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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f4d1014 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67370 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67370) diff --git a/old/67370-0.txt b/old/67370-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 095a86a..0000000 --- a/old/67370-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1606 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of From Missouri, by Zane Grey - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: From Missouri - -Author: Zane Grey - -Illustrators: Frank Street - Oscar Howard - -Release Date: February 10, 2022 [eBook #67370] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark. This file was produced from - images generously made available by The Internet Archive. - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM MISSOURI *** - - - From Missouri - - A Compelling Novelette of Far Western - Life Complete in this Issue - - by Zane Grey - - Paintings by Frank Street - Drawings by Oscar Howard - -[Illustration: “The fact is, this heah ranch is a different place -since you came,” went on Texas.] - -With jingling spurs a tall cowboy stalked out of the post-office to -confront his three comrades crossing the wide street from the saloon -opposite. “Look heah,” he said, shoving a letter under their noses. -“Which one of you long-horns has wrote her again?” - -From a gay, careless trio his listeners suddenly grew blank, then -intensely curious. They stared at the handwriting on the letter. “Tex, -I’m a son-of-a-gun if it ain’t from Missouri!” ejaculated Andy Smith, -his lean, red face bursting into a smile. - -“It shore is,” declared Nevada. - -“From Missouri!” echoed Panhandle Ames. - -“Wal?” queried Tex, almost with a snort. - -The three cowboys jerked up to look from Tex to one another, and then -back at Tex. - -“It’s from _her_,” went on Tex, his voice hushing on the pronoun. “You -all know thet handwritin’. Now how aboot this deal? We swore none of -us would write again to this heah schoolmarm. Some one of you has -double-crossed the outfit.” Loud and unified protestations of -innocence emanated from his comrades. But it was evident Tex did not -trust them, and that they did not trust him or each other. “Say, -boys,” said Panhandle, suddenly. “I see Beady in there lookin’ darn -sharp at us. Let’s get off in the woods somewhere.” - -“Back to the bar,” replied Nevada. “I reckon we’ll all need -stimulants.” - -“Beady!” ejaculated Tex, as they turned across the street. “He could -be to blame as much as any of us.” - -“Shore. It’d be more like Beady,” replied Nevada. “But Tex, yore mind -ain’t workin’. Our lady friend from Missouri has wrote before without -gettin’ any letter from us.” - -“How do we know thet?” demanded Tex, suspiciously. “Shore the boss’ -typewriter is a puzzle, but it could hide tracks. Savvy, pards?” - -“Gee, Tex, you need a drink,” returned Panhandle, peevishly. - -They entered the saloon and strode to the bar, where from all -appearances Tex was not the only one to seek artificial strength. Then -they repaired to a corner, where they took seats and stared at the -letter Tex threw down before them. “From Missouri, all right,” averred -Panhandle, studying the postmark. “Kansas City, Missouri.” - -“It’s her writin’,” added Nevada, in awe. “Shore I’d know thet out of -a million letters.” - -“Ain’t you goin’ to read it to us?” queried Andy Smith. - -“Mister Frank Owens,” replied Tex, reading from the address on the -letter. “Springer’s Ranch. Beacon, Arizona.... Boys, this heah Frank -Owens is all of us.” - -“Huh! Mebbe he’s a darn sight more,” added Andy. - -“Looks like a low-down trick we’re to blame for,” resumed Tex, -seriously shaking his hawk-like head. “Heah we reads in a Kansas City -paper aboot a school teacher wantin’ a job out in dry Arizonie. An’ we -ups an’ writes her an’ gets her ararin’ to come. Then when she writes -and tells us she’s _not over forty_—then we quits like yellow coyotes. -An’ we four anyhow shook hands on never writin’ her again. Wal, -somebody did, an’ I reckon you-all think me as big a liar as I think -you. But thet ain’t the point. Heah’s another letter to Mister Owens -an’ I’ll bet my saddle it means trouble. Shore I’m plumb afraid to -read it.” - -“Say, give it to me,” demanded Andy. “I ain’t afraid of any woman.” - -Tex snatched the letter out of Andy’s hand. “Cowboy, you’re too poor -educated to read letters from ladies,” observed Tex. “Gimme a knife, -somebody ... Say, it’s all perfumed.” - -Tex impressively spread out the letter and read laboriously: - - Kansas City, Mo., - June 15. - Dear Mr. Owens: - - Your last letter has explained away much that was vague and - perplexing in your other letters. It has inspired me with hope - and anticipation. I shall not take time now to express my thanks, - but hasten to get ready to go West. I shall leave tomorrow and - arrive at Beacon on June 19, at 4:30 P.M. You see I have studied - the time-table. - - Yours very truly, - Jane Stacey. - -Profound silence followed Tex’s perusal of the letter. The cowboys -were struck dumb. But suddenly Nevada exploded: “My Gawd, fellars, -today’s the nineteenth!” - -“Wal, Springer needs a schoolmarm at the ranch,” finally spoke up the -practical Andy. “There’s half a dozen kids growin’ up without any -schoolin’, not to talk about other ranches. I heard the boss say this -hisself.” - -“Who the mischief did it?” demanded Tex, in a rage with himself and -his accomplices. - -“What’s the sense in hollerin’ aboot thet now?” returned Nevada. “It’s -done. She’s comin’. She’ll be on the Limited. Reckon we’ve got five -hours. It ain’t enough. What’ll we _do_?” - -“I can get awful drunk in thet time,” contributed Panhandle, -nonchalantly. - -“Ahuh! An’ leave it all to us,” retorted Tex, scornfully. “But we got -to stand pat on this heah deal. Don’t you know this is Saturday an’ -thet Springer will be in town?” - -“Aw, confound it! We’re all goin’ to get fired,” declared Panhandle. -“Serves us right for listenin’ to you, Tex. We can all gamble this -trick hatched in your head.” - -“Not my haid more’n yours or anybody,” returned Tex, hotly. - -“Say, you locoed cow-punchers,” interposed Nevada. “What’ll we do?” - -“We’ll have to tell Springer.” - -“But Tex, the boss’d never believe us about not follerin’ the letters -up. He’ll fire the whole outfit.” - -“But he’ll have to be told somethin’,” returned Panhandle stoutly. - -“Shore he will,” went on Tex. “I’ve an idea. It’s too late now to turn -this poor schoolmarm back. An’ somebody’ll have to meet her. -Somebody’s got to borrow a buckboard an’ drive her out to the ranch.” - -“Excuse me!” replied Andy. And Panhandle and Nevada echoed him. - -“I’ll ride over on my hoss, an’ see you all meet the lady,” added -Andy. - -Tex had lost his scowl, but he did not look as if he favorably -regarded Andy’s idea. “Hang it all!” he burst out, hotly. “Can’t some -of you gents look at it from her side of the fence? Nice fix for any -woman, I say. Somebody ought to get it good for this mess. If I ever -find out—” - -“Go on with your grand idea,” interposed Nevada. - -“You all come with me. I’ll get a buckboard. I’ll meet the lady an’ do -the talkin’. I’ll let her down easy. An’ if I cain’t head her back to -Missouri we’ll fetch her out to the ranch an’ then leave it up to -Springer. Only we won’t tell her or him or anybody who’s the real -Frank Owens.” - -“Tex, that ain’t so plumb bad,” declared Andy, admiringly. “What _I_ -want to know is who’s goin’ to do the talkin’ to the boss?” queried -Panhandle. “It mightn’t be so hard to explain now. But after drivin’ -up to the ranch with a woman! You all know Springer’s shy. Young an’ -rich, like he is, an’ a bachelor—he’s been fussed over so he’s plumb -afraid of girls. An’ here you’re fetchin’ a middle-aged schoolmarm -who’s romantic an’ mushy! Shucks! .... I say send her home on the next -train.” - -“Pan, you’re wise on hosses an’ cattle, but you don’t know human -nature, an’ you’re daid wrong about the boss,” rejoined Tex. “We’re in -a bad fix, I’ll admit. But I lean more to fetchin’ the lady up than -sendin’ her back. Somebody down Beacon way would get wise. Mebbe the -schoolmarm might talk. She’d shore have cause. An’ suppose Springer -hears aboot it—that some of us or all of us played a low-down trick on -a woman. He’d be madder at that than if we fetched her up. Likely -he’ll try to make amends. The boss may be shy on girls but he’s the -squarest man in Arizonie. My idea is we’ll deny any of us is Frank -Owens, an’ we’ll meet Miss—Miss—what was that there name? ... Miss -Jane Stacey and fetch her up to the ranch, an’ let _her_ do the -talkin’ to Springer.” - -During the next several hours, while Tex searched the town for a -buckboard and team he could borrow, the other cowboys wandered from -the saloon to the post-office and back again, and then to the store, -the restaurant and all around. The town had gradually filled up with -Saturday visitors. “Boys, there’s the boss,” suddenly broke out Andy, -pointing; and he ducked into the nearest doorway, which happened to be -that of another saloon. It was half full of cowboys, ranchers, -Mexicans, tobacco smoke and noise. Andy’s companions had rushed -pell-mell after him; and not until they all got inside did they -realize that this saloon was a rendezvous for cowboys decidedly not on -friendly terms with Springer’s outfit. Nevada was the only one of the -trio who took the situation nonchalantly. - -“Wal, we’re in, an’ what the mischief do we care for Beady Jones, an’ -his outfit?” remarked Nevada, quite loud enough to be heard by others -beside his friends. - -Naturally they lined up at the bar, and this was not a good thing for -young men who had an important engagement and who must preserve -sobriety. - -After several rounds of drinks they began to whisper and snicker over -the possibility of Tex meeting the boss. - -“If only it doesn’t come off until Tex gets our forty-year-old -schoolmarm from Missourie with him in the buckboard!” exclaimed -Panhandle, in huge glee. - -“Shore. Tex, the handsome galoot, is most to blame for this mess,” -added Nevada. “Thet cowboy won’t be above makin’ love to Jane, if he -thinks we’re not around. But, fellars, we want to be there.” - -“Wouldn’t miss seein’ the boss meet Tex for a million!” said Andy. - -Presently a tall, striking-looking cowboy, with dark face and small -bright eyes like black beads, detached himself from a group of noisy -companions, and confronted the trio, more particularly Nevada. “Howdy, -men,” he greeted them, “what you-all doin’ in here?” - -He was coolly impertinent, and his action and query noticeably stilled -the room. Andy and Panhandle leaned back against the bar. They had -been in such situations before and knew who would do the talking for -them. “Howdy, Jones,” replied Nevada, coolly and carelessly. “We -happened to bust in here by accident. Reckon we’re usually more -particular what kind of company we mix with.” - -“Ahuh! Springer’s outfit is shore a stuck-up one,” sneered Jones, in a -loud tone. “So stuck-up they won’t even ride around drift-fences.” - -Nevada slightly changed his position. “Beady, I’ve had a couple of -drinks an’ ain’t very clear-headed,” drawled Nevada. “Would you mind -talkin’ so I can understand you?” - -“Bah! You savvy all right,” declared Jones, sarcastically. “I’m -tellin’ you straight what I’ve been layin’ to tell your yaller-headed -Texas pard.” - -“Now you’re speakin’ English, Beady. Tex an’ me are pards, shore. An’ -I’ll take it kind of you to get this talk out of your system. You seem -to be chock full.” - -“You bet I’m full an’ I’m goin’ to bust,” shouted Jones, whose temper -evidently could not abide the slow, cool speech with which he had been -answered. - -“Wal, before you bust, explain what you mean by Springer’s outfit not -ridin’ around drift-fences.” - -“Easy. You just cut through wire-fences,” retorted Jones. - -“Beady, I hate to call you a low-down liar, but that’s what you are.” - -“You’re another,” yelled Jones. “I seen your Texas Jack cut our -drift-fence.” Nevada struck out with remarkable swiftness and force. -He knocked Jones over upon a card-table, with which he crashed to the -floor. Jones was so stunned that he did not recover before some of his -comrades rushed to him, and helped him up. Then, black in the face and -cursing savagely, he jerked for his gun. He got it out, but before he -could level it, two of his friends seized him, and wrestled with him, -talking in earnest alarm. But Jones fought them. - -“You blame fool,” finally yelled one of them. “He’s not packin’ a gun. -It’d be murder.” - -That brought Jones to his senses, though certainly not to calmness. -“Mister Nevada—next time you hit town you’d better come heeled,” he -hissed between his teeth. - -“Shore. An’ thet’ll be bad for you, Beady,” replied Nevada, curtly. -Panhandle and Andy drew Nevada out to the street, where they burst -into mingled excitement and anger. Their swift strides gravitated -toward the saloon across from the post-office. When they emerged -sometime later they were arm in arm, and far from steady on their -feet. They paraded up the one main street of Beacon, not in the least -conspicuous on a Saturday afternoon. As they were neither hilarious -nor dangerous, nobody paid any particular attention to them. Springer, -their boss, met them, gazed at them casually, and passed without sign -of recognition. If he had studied the boys closely he might have -received an impression that they were hugging a secret, as well as -each other. In due time the trio presented themselves at the railroad -station. Tex was there, nervously striding up and down the platform, -now and then looking at his watch. The afternoon train was nearly due. -At the hitching-rail below the platform stood a new buckboard and a -rather spirited team of horses. - -The boys, coming across the wide square, encountered this evidence of -Tex’s extremity, and struck a posture before it. “Livery shable -outfit, by gosh,” said Andy. - -“Thish here Tex spendin’ his money royal,” agreed Nevada. - -Then Tex espied them. He stared. Suddenly he jumped straight up. -Striding to the edge of the platform, with face as red as a beet, he -began to curse them. “Whash masher, ole pard?” asked Andy, who -appeared a little less stable than his comrades. - -Tex’s reply was another volley of expressive profanity. And he ended -with: “—you—all yellow quitters to get drunk an’ leave me in the -lurch. But you gotta get away from heah. I shore won’t have you about -when thet train comes.” - -“Tex, yore boss is in town lookin’ for you,” said Nevada. - -“Tex, he jest ambled past us like we wasn’t gennelmen,” added -Panhandle. “Never sheen us atall.” - -“No wonder, you drunken cow-punchers,” declared Tex, in disgust. “Now -I tell you to clear out of heah.” - -“But pard, we just want shee you meet our Jane from Missouri,” replied -Andy. - -Just then a shrill whistle announced the train. “You can sneak off -now,” he went on, “an’ leave me to face the music. I always knew I was -the only gentleman in Springer’s outfit.” - -The three cowboys did not act upon Tex’s sarcastic suggestion, but -they hung back, looking at once excited and sheepish and hugely -delighted. The long gray dusty train pulled into the station and -stopped. There was only one passenger for Springer—a woman—and she -alighted from the coach near where the cowboys stood waiting. She wore -a long linen coat and a brown veil that completely hid her face. She -was not tall and she was much too slight for the heavy valise the -porter handed to her. - -Tex strode grandly toward her. “Miss—Miss Stacey, ma’am?” he asked, -removing his sombrero. - -“Yes,” she replied. “Are you Mr. Owens?” - -Evidently the voice was not what Tex had expected and it disconcerted -him. “No ma’am I—I’m not Mister Owens,” he said. “Please let me take -your bag ... I’m Tex Dillon, one of Springer’s cowboys. An’ I’ve come -to meet you—an’ fetch you out to the ranch.” - -“Thank you, but I—I expected to be met by Mr. Owens,” she replied. - -“Ma’am, there’s been a mistake—I’ve got to tell you—there ain’t any -Mister Owens,” blurted out Tex, manfully. - -“Oh!” she said, with a little start. - -“You see, it was this way,” went on the confused cowboy. “One of -Springer’s cowboys—not _me_—wrote them letters to you, signin’ his -name Owens. There ain’t no such named cowboy in this county. Your last -letter—an’ here it is—fell into my hands—all by accident. Ma’am, it -sure was. I took my three friends heah—I took them into my confidence. -An’ we all came down to meet you.” She moved her head and evidently -looked at the strange trio of cowboys Tex had pointed out as his -friends. They came forward then, but not eagerly, and they still held -to each other. Their condition, not to consider their immense -excitement, could not have been lost even upon a tenderfoot from -Missouri. - -“Please return my—my letter,” she said, turning again to Tex, and she -put out a small gloved hand to take it from him. “Then—there is no Mr. -Frank Owens?” - -“No Ma’am, there isn’t,” replied Tex miserably, and waited for her to -speak. - -“Is there—no—no truth in his—is there no school teacher wanted here?” -she faltered. - -“I think so, Ma’am,” he replied. “Springer said he needed one. That’s -what started the advertisement an’ the letters to you. You can see the -boss an’—an’ explain. I’m sure it will be all right. He’s the grandest -fellow. He won’t stand for no joke on a poor old schoolmarm.” In his -bewilderment Tex had spoken his thoughts, and that last slip made him -look more miserable than ever, and made the boys appear ready to -burst. - -“‘Poor old schoolmarm!’” echoed Miss Stacey. “Perhaps the deceit has -not been wholly on one side.” Whereupon she swept aside the enveloping -veil to reveal a pale and pretty face. She was young. She had clear -gray eyes and a sweet, sensitive mouth. Little curls of chestnut hair -straggled from under her veil. And she had tiny freckles. - -Tex stared at this apparition. “But you—you—the letter says she wasn’t -over forty,” he ejaculated. - -“She’s not,” rejoined Miss Stacey, curtly. - -Then there were visible and remarkable indications of a transformation -in the attitude of the cowboy. But the approach of a stranger suddenly -seemed to paralyze him. This fellow was very tall. He strolled up to -them. He was booted and spurred. He had halted before the group and -looked expectantly from the boys to the young woman and back again. -But on the moment the four cowboys appeared dumb. “Are—are you Mr. -Springer?” asked Miss Stacey. - -“Yes,” he replied, and he took off his sombrero. He had a dark, frank -face and keen eyes. - -“I am Jane Stacey,” she explained hurriedly. “I’m a school teacher. I -answered an advertisement. And I’ve come from Missouri because of -letters I received from a Mr. Frank Owens, of Springer’s Ranch. This -young man met me. He has not been very—explicit. I gather that there -is no Mr. Owens—that I’m the victim of a cowboy joke ... But he said -that Mr. Springer won’t stand for a joke on a poor old schoolmarm.” - -“I sure am glad to meet you, Miss Stacey,” responded the rancher, with -the easy western courtesy that must have been comforting to her. -“Please let me see the letters.” She opened a hand-bag, and searching -in it presently held out several letters. Springer never even glanced -at his stricken cowboys. He took the letters. - -“No, not that one,” said Miss Stacey, blushing scarlet. “That’s one I -wrote to Mr. Owens, but didn’t mail. It’s—hardly necessary to read -that.” While Springer read the others she looked at him. Presently he -asked for the letter she had taken back. Miss Stacey hesitated, then -refused. He looked cool, serious, business-like. Then his keen eyes -swept over the four cowboys. - -“Tex, are you Mister Frank Owens?” he queried sharply. - -“I—shore—ain’t,” gasped Tex. - -Springer asked each of the other boys the same question and received -decidedly maudlin but negative answers. Then he turned again to the -girl. “Miss Stacey, I regret to say that you are indeed the victim of -a low-down cowboy trick,” he said. “I’d apologize for such heathen if -I knew how. All I can say is I’m sorry.” - -“Then—then there isn’t any school to teach—any place for me—out here?” -she asked, and there were tears in her eyes. - -“That’s another matter,” he replied, with a winning smile. “Of course -there’s a place for you. I’ve wanted a school teacher for a long time. -Some of the men out at the ranch have kids an’ they sure need a -teacher.” - -“Oh, I’m—so glad,” she murmured, in great relief. “I was afraid I’d -have to go—all the way back. You see I’m not so strong as I used to -be—and my doctor advised a change of climate—dry western air. I can’t -go back now.” - -“You don’t look sick,” he said, with the keen eyes on her. “You look -very well to me.” - -“Oh, indeed, I’m not very strong,” she returned, quickly. “But I must -confess I wasn’t altogether truthful about my age.” - -“I was wondering about that,” he said, gravely. There seemed just a -glint of a twinkle in his eye. “Not over forty.” - -Again she blushed and this time with confusion. “It wasn’t altogether -a lie. I was afraid to mention I was only—young. And I wanted to get -the position so much ... I’m a good—a competent teacher, unless the -scholars are too grown-up.” - -“The scholars you’ll have at my ranch are children,” he replied. -“Well, we’d better be starting if we are to get there before dark. -It’s a long ride. Is this all your baggage?” - -Springer led her over to the buckboard and helped her in, then stowed -the valise under the back seat. “Here, let me put this robe over you,” -he said. “It’ll be dusty. And when we’get up on the ridge it’s cold.” -At this juncture Tex came to life and he started forward. But Andy and -Nevada and Panhandle stood motionless, staring at the fresh and now -flushed face of the young school teacher. Tex untied the halter of the -spirited team and they began to prance. He gathered up the reins as if -about to mount the buckboard. - -“I’ve got all the supplies an’ the mail, Mr. Springer,” he said, -cheerfully, “an’ I can be startin’ at once.” - -“I’ll drive Miss Stacey,” replied Springer, dryly. - -Tex looked blank for a moment. Then Miss Stacey’s clear gray eyes -seemed to embarrass him. A tinge of red came into his tanned cheek. -“Tex, you can ride my horse home,” said the rancher. - -“That wild stallion of yours!” expostulated the cowboy. “Now Mr. -Springer. I shore am afraid of him.” This from the best horseman on -the whole range! - -Apparently the rancher took Tex seriously. - -“He sure is wild, Tex, and I know you’re a poor hand with a horse. If -he throws you, why you’ll have your own horse.” Miss Stacey turned -away her eyes. There was a hint of a smile on her lips. Springer got -in beside her and, taking the reins without another glance at his -discomfited cowboys, he drove away. - - * * * * * - -A few weeks altered many things at Springer’s Ranch. - -There was a marvelous change in the dress and deportment of cowboys -off duty. There were some clean and happy and interested children. -There was a rather taciturn and lonely young rancher who was given to -thoughtful dreams and whose keen eyes watched the little adobe -schoolhouse under the cottonwoods. And in Jane Stacey’s face a rich -bloom and tan had begun to warm out the paleness. It was not often -that Jane left the schoolhouse without meeting one of Springer’s -cowboys. She met Tex most frequently and, according to Andy, that fact -was because Tex was foreman and could send the boys off to the ends of -the range. And this afternoon Jane encountered the foreman. He was -clean-shaven, bright and eager, a superb figure. Tex had been lucky -enough to have a gun with him one day when a rattlesnake frightened -the school teacher and he had shot the reptile. Miss Stacey had leaned -against him in her fright; she had been grateful; she had admired his -wonderful skill with a gun and had murmured that a woman always would -be safe with such a man. Thereafter Tex packed his gun unmindful of -the ridicule of his rivals. “Miss Stacey, come, for a little ride, -won’t you?” he asked, eagerly. - -The cowboys had already taught her how to handle a horse and to ride; -and if all they said of her appearance and accomplishment were true -she was indeed worth watching. “I’m sorry,” replied Jane. “I promised -Nevada I’d ride with him today.” - -“I reckon Nevada is miles an’ miles up the valley by now,” replied -Tex. “He won’t be back till long after dark.” - -“But he made an engagement with me,” protested the school mistress. - -“An’ shore he has to work. He’s ridin’ for Springer, an’ I’m foreman -of this ranch,” said Tex. - -“You sent him off on some long chase,” averred Jane severely. “Now -didn’t you? Tell me the truth.” - -“I shore did. He comes crowin’ down to the bunk-house—about how he’s -goin’ to ride with you an’ how we-all are not in the runnin’. I says, -‘Nevada, I reckon there’s a steer mired in the sand up in Cedar Wash. -You ride up there an’ pull him out.’” - -“And then what did he say?” inquired Jane, curiously. - -“Why, Miss Stacey, shore I hate to tell you. I didn’t think he was -so—so bad. He just used the most awful language as was ever heard on -this heah ranch. Then he rode off.” - -“But _was_ there a steer mired up in the Wash?” - -“I reckon so,” replied Tex, rather shamefacedly. “Most always is one.” - -Jane let scornful eyes rest upon the foreman. “That was a mean trick,” -she said. - -“There’s been worse done to me by him, an’ all of them. An’ all’s fair -in love an’ war.... Will you ride with me?” - -“No. I think I’ll ride off alone up Cedar Wash and help Nevada find -that mired steer.” - -“Miss Stacey, you’re shore not goin’ to ride off alone. Savvy that?” - -“Who’ll keep me from it?” demanded Jane, with spirit. - -“I will. Or any of the boys, for thet matter. Springer’s orders.” Jane -started with surprise and then blushed rosy red. Tex, also, appeared -confused at his disclosure. “Miss Stacey, I oughtn’t have said that. -It slipped out. The boss said we needn’t tell you, but you were to be -watched an’ taken care of. It’s a wild range. You could get lost or -thrown from a horse.” - -“Mr. Springer is very kind and thoughtful,” murmured Jane. - -“The fact is, this heah ranch is a different place since you came,” -went on Tex as if emboldened. “An’ this beatin’ around the bush -doesn’t suit me. All the boys have lost their haids over you.” - -“Indeed? How flattering,” replied Jane, with just a hint of mockery. -She was fond of all her admirers, but there were four of them she had -not yet forgiven. - -The tall foreman was not without spirit. - -“It’s true all right, as you’ll find out pretty quick,” he replied. -“If you had any eyes you’d see that cattle raisin’ on this heah ranch -is about to halt till somethin’ is decided. Why, even Springer himself -is sweet on you.” - -“How dare you!” flashed Jane, suddenly aghast. - -“I ain’t afraid to tell the truth,” declared Tex, stoutly. “He is. The -boys all say so. He’s grouchier than ever. He’s jealous. He watches -you—” - -“Suppose I told him you had dared to say such things?” interrupted -Jane, trembling on the verge of strange emotion. - -“Why, he’d be tickled to death. He hasn’t got nerve enough to tell you -himself.” - -This cowboy, like all his comrades, was hopeless. She was about to -attempt to change the conversation when Tex took her into his arms. -She struggled—and fought with all her might. But he succeeded in -kissing her cheek and then the tip of her ear. Finally she broke away -from him. “Now—” she panted. “You’ve done it—you’ve insulted me. Now -I’ll never ride with you again—even speak to you.” - -“Shore I didn’t insult you,” replied Tex. “Jane—won’t you marry me?” - -“No.” - -“Won’t you be my sweetheart—till you care enough to—to—” - -“No.” - -“But, Jane, you’ll forgive me, an’ be good friends again?” - -“Never!” Jane did not mean all she said. She had come to understand -these men of the ranges—their loneliness—their hunger for love. But in -spite of her sympathy and affection she needed sometimes to be cold -and severe. - -“Jane, you owe me a good deal—more than you’ve any idea,” said Tex, -seriously. “You’d never have been here but for me,” he said, solemnly. - -Jane could only stare at him. - -“I meant to tell you long ago. But I shore didn’t have nerve. Jane, -I—I was that there letter writin’ fellar. I wrote them letters you -got. I am Frank Owens.” - -“No!” exclaimed Jane. She was startled. That matter of Frank Owens had -never been cleared up. It had ceased to rankle within her breast, but -it had never been forgotten. She looked up earnestly into the big -fellow’s face. It was like a mask. But she saw through it. He was -lying. He was brazen. Almost she thought she saw a laugh deep in his -eyes. - -“I shore am thet lucky man who found you a job when you was sick an’ -needed a change ... An’ thet you’ve grown so pretty an’ so well you -owe all to me.” - -“Tex, if you really were Frank Owens, _that_ would make a great -difference. I owe him everything. I would—but I don’t believe you are -he.” - -“It’s a sure honest gospel fact,” declared Tex. “I hope to die if it -ain’t!” - -Jane shook her head sadly at his monstrous prevarication. “I don’t -believe you,” she said, and left him standing there. - -It might have been mere coincidence that during the next few days both -Nevada and Panhandle waylaid and conveyed to her intelligence by -divers and pathetic arguments the astounding fact that each was Mr. -Frank Owens. More likely, however, was it the unerring instinct of -lovers who had sensed the importance and significance of this -mysterious correspondent’s part in bringing health and happiness into -Jane Stacey’s life. She listened to them with anger and sadness and -amusement at their deceit, and she had the same answer for both: “I -don’t believe you.” - -And through these machinations of the cowboys, Jane had begun to have -vague and sweet and disturbing suspicions of her own as to the real -identity of that mysterious cowboy, Frank Owens. Andy had originality -as well as daring. He would have completely deceived Jane if she had -not happened, by the merest accident, to discover the relation between -him and certain love letters she had begun to find in her desk. She -was deceived at first, for the typewriting of these was precisely like -that in the letters by Frank Owens. She had been suddenly aware of a -wild start of rapture. That had given place to a shameful, open-eyed -realization of the serious condition of her own heart. But she -happened to discover in Andy the writer of these missives, and her -dream was shattered, if not forgotten. Andy certainly would not carry -love letters to her that he did not write. He had merely learned to -use the same typewriter, and at opportune times he had slipped the -letters into her desk. Jane now began to have her own little aching, -haunting secret which was so hard to put out of her mind. Every letter -and every hint of Frank Owens made her remember. Therefore she decided -to put a check to Andy’s sly double-dealing. She addressed a note to -him and wrote: “Dear Andy:—That day at the train when you thought I -was a poor old schoolmarm you swore you were not Frank Owens. Now you -swear you are! If you were a man who knew what truth is you’d have a -chance. But now—No! You are a monster of iniquity. I don’t believe -you.” She left the note in plain sight where she always found his -letters in her desk. The next morning the note was gone. And so was -Andy. She did not see him for three days. - - * * * * * - -It came about that a dance was to be held at Beacon during the late -summer. Jane was wild to go. But it developed that she could not -accept the escort of any one of her cowboy admirers without alienating -the others. And she began to see the visions of this wonderful dance -fade away when Springer accosted her. “Who’s the lucky cowboy to take -you to our dance?” - -“He’s as mysterious and doubtful as Mr. Frank Owens,” replied Jane. - -“You don’t mean you haven’t been asked to go?” - -“They’ve all asked me. That’s the trouble.” - -“I see. But you mustn’t miss it. It’d be pleasant for you to meet some -of the ranchers and their wives. Suppose you go with me?” - -“Oh, Mr. Springer, I—I’d be delighted,” replied Jane. - -“Thank you. Then it’s settled. I must be in town all that day on -cattle business—next Friday. I’ll ask the Hartwells to stop here for -you, an’ drive you in.” He seemed gravely, kindly interested as -always, yet there was something in his eyes that interfered with the -regular beating of Jane’s heart. - -Jane spent much of the remaining leisure hours on a gown to wear at -this dance which promised so much. The Hartwells turned out to be nice -people whose little girl was one of Jane’s pupils. On the drive -townward, through the crisp fall gloaming, while listening to the -chatter of the children, and the talk of the elder Hartwells’, she -could not help wondering what Springer would think of her in the new -gown. - -They arrived late. “Reckon it’s just as well for you an’ the -children,” said Mrs. Hartwell to Jane. “These dances last from seven -to seven.” - -“Well, I am a tenderfoot from Missouri. But that’s not going to keep -me from having a wonderful time.” - -“You will, dear, unless the cowboys fight over you, which is likely. -But at least there won’t be any shootin’. My husband an’ Springer are -both on the committee an’ they won’t admit any gun-totin’ cowpuncher.” -Here Jane had concrete evidence of something she had begun to suspect. -These careless, love-making cowboys might be dangerous. - -Jane’s first sight of that dance hall astonished her. It was a big -barn-like room, roughly raftered and sided, decorated enough with -colored bunting to take away the bareness. The volume of sound amazed -her. Music and trample of boots, gay laughter, deep voices of men, all -seemed to merge into a loud hum. A swaying, wheeling horde of dancers -circled past her. No more time, then, was accorded her to clarify the -spectacle, for Springer suddenly confronted her. If Jane needed -assurance of what she had dreamed of and hoped for she had it in his -frank admiration. “Sure it’s somethin’ fine for Bill Springer to have -the prettiest girl here,” he said. - -“Thank you—but, Mr. Springer—I sadly fear you were a cowboy before you -became a rancher,” she replied archly. - -“Sure I was. An’ that you may find out,” he laughed. “Of course, I -could never come up to—say—Frank Owens. But let’s dance. I shall have -little enough of you in this outfit.” - -So he swung her into the circle of dancers. Jane found him easy to -dance with, though he was far from expert. Jane felt strange and -uncertain with him. Then soon she became aware of the cessation of hum -and movement. - -“Sure that was the best dance I ever had,” said Springer, with -something of radiance in his dark face. “An’ now I must lose you to -this outfit comin’.” Manifestly he meant his cowboys Tex, Nevada, -Panhandle and Andy, who presented themselves four abreast, shiny of -hair and face. - -“Good luck,” he whispered. “If you get into trouble let me know.” - -What he meant quickly dawned upon Jane. Right then it began. She saw -there was absolutely no use in trying to avoid or refuse these young -men. The wisest and safest course was to surrender, which she did. -“Boys, don’t all talk at once. I can dance with only one of you at a -time. So I’ll take you in alphabetical order. I’m a poor old -schoolmarm from Missouri. It’ll be Andy, Nevada, Panhandle and Tex.” - -Despite their protests she held rigidly to this rule. Each one of the -cowboys took shameless advantage of his opportunity. Outrageously as -they all hugged her, Tex was the worst offender. She tried to stop -dancing, but he carried her along as if she had been a child. He was -rapt, and yet there seemed an imp of mischief in him. - -“Tex—how dare—you!” panted Jane, when at last the dance ended. “You -ought to be—ashamed. I’ll not dance with you again.” - -“Aw, now,” he pleaded. - -“I won’t, Tex, so there. You’re no gentleman.” - -“Ahuh!” he ejaculated, drawing himself up stiffly. “All right, I’ll go -out an’ get drunk, an’ when I come back I’ll clean out this heah -hall.” - -“Tex! Don’t go,” she called, hurriedly, as he started to stride away. -“I’ll take that back. I will give you another dance—if you promise -to—to behave.” Thus she got rid of him, and was carried off by Mrs. -Hartwell to be introduced to ranchers and their wives, to girls and -their escorts. Her next partner was a tall, handsome cowboy named -Jones. She did not know quite what to make of him. He talked all the -time. He was witty and engaging, and he had a most subtly flattering -tongue. Jane could not fail to grasp that he might even be worse than -Tex, but at least he did not make love to her with physical violence. -She enjoyed that dance and admitted the singular, forceful charm about -this man. Jones demanded, rather than begged, for another dance, and -though she laughingly explained her predicament in regard to partners, -he said he would come after her anyhow. Then followed several dances -with new partners, between which Jane became more than ever the centre -of attraction. It all went to her head like wine. She was having a -perfectly wonderful time. Jones claimed her again, in fact whirled her -out on the floor; and it seemed then that the irresistible rush of the -dances was similar to her sensations. Twice again before the supper -hour at midnight she found herself dancing with Jones. How he managed -it she did not know. He just took her, carried her off by storm. Jane -did not awaken to this unpardonable conduct of hers until she -discovered that a little while before she had promised Tex his second -dance, and then she had given it to Jones. - -[Illustration: Twice again ... she found herself dancing with -Jones.... He just took her, carried her off by storm.] - -Then came the supper hour. It was a gala occasion, for which, -evidently, the children had heroically kept awake. Jane enjoyed the -children immensely. She sat with the numerous Hartwells, all of whom -were most kindly attentive to her. Jane wondered why Mr. Springer did -not put in an appearance, but considered his absence due to numerous -duties. When the supper hour ended Jane caught sight of Andy. - -“Andy, please find Tex for me. I owe him a dance, and I’ll give him -the very first, unless Mr. Springer comes for it.” - -Andy regarded her with an aloofness totally new to her. “Wal, I’ll -tell him. But I reckon Tex ain’t presentable just now. An’ all of us -are through dancin’ tonight. There’s been a little fight.” - -“Oh, no!” cried Jane. “Who?” - -“Wal, when you cut Tex’s dance for Beady Jones, you sure put our -outfit in bad,” replied Andy coldly. “At thet, there wouldn’t have -been anythin’ come of it here if Beady Jones hadn’t got to shootin’ -off his chin. Tex slapped his face an’ thet sure started a fight. -Beady licked Tex, too, I’m sorry to say. Wal, we had a dickens of a -time keepin’ Nevada out of it. But we kept them apart till Springer -come out. An’ what the boss said to thet outfit was sure aplenty. -Beady Jones kept talkin’ back, nasty like—you know he was once foreman -for us—till Springer got good an’ mad. An’ he said: ‘Jones, I fired -you once because you was a little too slick for our outfit, an’ I’ll -tell you this, if it comes to a pinch I’ll give you the blamest -thrashin’ any smart-aleck cowboy ever got.’ You can bet that shut -Beady Jones’ loud mouth.” - -After that rather lengthy speech, Andy left her unceremoniously -standing there alone. Jane looked for Springer, hoping yet fearing he -would come to her. But he did not. She had another uninterrupted dizzy -round of dancing until her strength failed. At four o’clock she was -scarcely able to walk. Her pretty dress was torn and mussed; her -slippers were worn ragged. And her feet were dead. From that time she -sat with Mrs. Hartwell looking on, and trying to keep awake. - -At length the exodus began. Jane went out with the Hartwells, to be -received by Springer, who was decidedly cool to Jane. All through the -long ride out to the ranch he never addressed her. Springer’s sister, -and the matronly housekeeper were waiting for them, with cheery -welcome, and invitation to a hot breakfast. - -Presently Jane found herself momentarily alone with the rancher. “Miss -Stacey,” he said, in a voice she had never heard, “your flirtin’ with -Beady Jones made trouble for the Springer outfit.” - -“_Mr. Springer!_” she exclaimed, her head going up. - -“Excuse me,” he returned, in cutting, dry tone that recalled Tex. -Indeed, this westerner was a cowboy, the same as those who rode for -him, only a little older, and therefore more reserved and careful of -speech. “If it wasn’t that—then you sure were much taken with Mr. -Beady Jones.” - -“If that was anybody’s business it might have appeared so,” she -retorted, tingling all over with some feeling she could not control. -“He was a splendid dancer. He did not maul me like a bear. I really -had a chance to breathe during my dances with him. Then, too, he could -talk.” - -Springer bowed with dignity. His dark face paled. It dawned upon Jane -that there was something intense in the moment. She began to repent of -her hasty pride. - -“Thanks,” he said. “Please excuse my impertinence. I see you have -found your Mr. Frank Owens in this cowboy Jones, an’ it sure is not my -place to say any more.” - -“But—but—Mr.—Springer—” faltered Jane, quite unstrung by that amazing -speech. The rancher, however, bowed again and left her. Jane felt too -miserable and weary for anything but rest. - -About mid-afternoon Jane awakened greatly refreshed and relieved, and -strangely repentant. She dressed prettily and went out into the -courtyard, and naturally, as always, gravitated toward the corrals and -barns. Springer appeared, in company with a rancher Jane did not know. -She expected Springer to stop her for a few pleasant words as was his -wont. This time, however, he merely touched his sombrero and passed -on. - -Then she went on down the lane, very thoughtful. Jane’s sharp eyes -caught sight of the boys before they espied her. And when she looked -up again every lithe back was turned. - -She went back to her room, meaning to read or sew, or do school work. -But instead she cried. - -Next day was Sunday. Heretofore every Sunday had been a full day for -Jane. This one bade fair to be empty. - -Her attention was attracted by sight of a superb horseman riding up -the lane to the ranch-house. He seemed familiar, but she could not -place him. What a picture he made as he dismounted, slick and shiny, -booted and spurred, to doff his huge sombrero! Jane heard him ask for -Miss Stacey. Then she recognized him. Beady Jones! She was at once -horrified, and something else she could not name. She remembered now -he had asked if he might call Sunday and she had certainly not -refused. But for him to come after the fight with Tex and the bitter -scene with Springer! What manner of man was this cowboy Jones? He -certainly did not lack courage. But more to the point—what idea had he -of her? Jane rose to the occasion. She had let herself in for this, -and she would see it through. She would let Springer see she indeed -had taken Beady Jones for Mr. Frank Owens. - -To that end Jane made her way down the porch to greet her cowboy -visitor. She made herself charming and gracious, and carried off the -embarrassing situation—for Springer was present—as if it were -perfectly natural. And she led Jones to one of the rustic benches down -the porch. - -Manifest, indeed, was it that young Jones felt he had made a conquest. -He was the most forceful and bold person Jane had ever met. Soon he -waxed ardent. Jane was accustomed to the sentimental talk of cowboys, -but this fellow was neither amusing nor interesting. He was dangerous. -When Jane pulled her hand, by main force, free from his, and said she -was not accustomed to allow men such privileges, he grinned at her. -“Sure, sweetheart, you have missed a heap of fun,” he said. “An’ I -reckon I’ll have to break you in.” - -Jane could not feel insulted at this brazen lout, but she certainly -raged at herself. Her instant impulse was to excuse herself and -abruptly leave him. But Springer was close by. She had caught his -dark, wondering, covert glances. And the cowboys were at the other end -of the long porch. Jane feared another fight. She had brought this -upon herself, and she must stick it out. The ensuing hour was an -increasing torment. At last it seemed she could not bear the false -situation any longer. And when Jones again importuned her to meet him -out on horseback she stooped to deception to end the interview. She -really did not concentrate her attention on his plan or take stock of -what she agreed to, but she got rid of him with ease and dignity -before Springer. After that she did not have the courage to stay out -and face them. Jane stole off to the darkness and loneliness of her -room. - - * * * * * - -The school teaching went on just the same, and the cowboys thawed out -and Springer returned somewhat to his kindliness, but Jane missed -something from her work and in them. At heart she grieved. Would it -ever be the same again? - -There came a day when Jane rode off alone towards the hills. She -forgot the risk and the admonitions of the cowboys. She wanted to be -alone to think. Her happiness had sustained a subtle change. Her work, -the children, the friends she had made, even the horse she loved, were -no longer all-sufficient. Something had come over her. It was late -fall, but the sun was warm that afternoon. Before her lay the valley -range, and beyond it the foothills rose, and above them loomed the -dark beckoning mountains. - -She rode fast until her horse was hot and she was out of breath. Then -she slowed down and for the first time she looked back toward the -ranch. It was a long way off—ten miles—a mere green spot in the gray. -And there was a horseman coming. As usual, some one of the cowboys had -observed her, let her think she had slipped away, and was now -following her. Today it angered Jane. She wanted to be alone. She -could take care of herself. And as was unusual with her, she used her -quirt on the horse. He broke into a gallop. She did not look back -again for a long time. When she did it was to discover that the -horseman had not only gained, but was now quite close to her. Jane -looked hard, but she could not recognize the rider. Once she imagined -it was Tex and again Andy. - -[Illustration: Jane looked hard, but she could not recognize the -rider. Once she imagined it was Tex and again Andy. It did not make -any difference.] - -Jane rode the longest and fastest race she had ever ridden. She -reached the low foothills and, without heeding the fact that she would -at once become lost, she entered the cedars and began to climb. At -times her horse had to walk and then she heard her pursuer breaking -through the cedars. He had to trail her by her horse’s tracks, and so -she was able to keep in the lead. It was not long until Jane realized -she was lost, but she did not care. She rode up and down and around -for an hour, until she was thoroughly tired out, and then up on top of -a foothill she reined in her horse and waited to give this pursuer a -piece of her mind. - -What was her amaze, when she heard a thud of hoofs and cracking of -branches in the opposite direction from which she expected her -pursuer, to see a rider emerge from the cedars and trot his horse -toward her. Jane needed only a second glance to recognize Beady Jones. -Suddenly she knew that he was not the pursuer she had been so angrily -aware of. Jones’ horse was white. That checked her mounting anger. - -Jones rode straight at her, and as he came close Jane saw his bold, -dark face and gleaming eyes. “Howdy, sweetheart,” sang out Jones, in -his cool devil-may-care way. “Reckon it took you a long time to meet -me as you promised.” - -“I didn’t ride out to meet you, Mr. Jones,” replied Jane, spiritedly. -“I know I agreed to something or other, but even then I didn’t mean -it.” - -“Yes, I had a hunch you was playin’ with me,” he returned, darkly. - -He reached out a long gloved hand and grasped her arm. “What do you -mean, sir?” demanded Jane, trying to wrench free. - -“Sure I mean a lot,” he said, grimly. “You stood for the love-makin’ -of that Springer outfit. Now you’re goin’ to get a taste of somethin’ -not so mushy.” - -“Let go of me—you—you ruffian!” cried Jane, struggling fiercely. She -was both furious and terrified. - -“Shucks! Your fightin’ will only make it interestin’. Come here, you -deceitful little cat.” And he lifted her out of her saddle over in -front of him. Jones’ horse, that had been frightened and plunging, ran -away into the cedars. Then Jones proceeded to embrace Jane. She -managed to keep her mouth from contact with his, but he kissed her -face and neck, kisses that seemed to pollute her. - -“Jane, I’m ridin’ out of this country for good,” he said. “An’ I’ve -just been waitin’ for this chance. You bet you’ll remember Beady -Jones.” - -Jane realized that Jones would stop at nothing. Frantically she fought -to get away from him, and to pitch herself to the ground. She -screamed. She beat and tore at him. She scratched his face till the -blood flowed. And as her struggles increased with her fright, she -gradually slipped down between him and the pommel of his saddle, with -head hanging down on one side and her feet on the other. This was -awkward and painful, but infinitely preferable to being crushed in his -arms. He was riding off with her as if she had been an empty sack. -Suddenly Jane’s hands, while trying to hold on to something to lessen -the severe jolt of her position, came in contact with Jones’ gun. Dare -she draw it and shoot him? Then all at once her ears filled with the -tearing gallop of another horse. Inverted as she was, she was able to -see and recognize Springer ride right at Jones and yell piercingly. -Next she felt Jones’ hard jerk at his gun. But, Jane had hold of it, -and suddenly she had her little hands like steel. The fierce energy -with which Jones wrestled to draw his gun threw Jane from the saddle. -And when she dropped clear of the horse the gun came with her. - -“Hands up, Beady!” she heard Springer call out, as she lay momentarily -face down in the dust. Then she struggled to her knees, and crawled to -get away from proximity to the horses. She still clung to the heavy -gun. And when, breathless and almost collapsing, she fell back on the -ground she saw Jones with his hands above his head and Springer on -foot with levelled gun. - -“Sit tight, cowboy,” ordered the rancher, in a hard tone. “It’ll take -mighty little to make me bore you.” - -Then, while still covering Jones, evidently ready for any sudden move, -Springer spoke again. “Jane, did you come out to meet this cowboy?” he -asked. - -“Oh, no! How can you ask that?” cried Jane, almost sobbing. - -“She’s a liar, boss,” spoke up Jones, coolly. “She let me make love to -her. An’ she agreed to ride out an’ meet me. Wal, it sure took her a -spell, an’ when she did come she was shy on the love-makin’. I was -packin’ her off to scare some sense into her when you rode in.” - -“Beady, I know your way with women. You can save your breath, for I’ve -a hunch you’re goin’ to need it.” - -“Mr. Springer,” faltered Jane, getting to her knees. “I—I was -foolishly taken with this cowboy—at first. Then—that Sunday after the -dance when he called on me at the ranch—I saw through him then. I -heartily despised him. To get rid of him I did say I’d meet him. But I -never meant to. Then I forgot it. Today I rode for the first time. I -saw some one following me and thought it must be Tex or one of the -boys. Finally I waited and presently Jones rode up to me ... And Mr. -Springer he—he grabbed me off my horse—and handled me most -brutally—shamefully. I fought him with all my might, but what could I -do?” - -Springer’s face changed markedly during Jane’s long explanation. Then -he threw his gun on the ground in front of Jane. “Jones, I’m goin’ to -beat you half to death,” he said grimly, and, leaping at the cowboy, -he jerked him out of the saddle sprawling on the ground. Next Springer -threw aside his sombrero, his vest, his spurs. But he kept on his -gloves. The cowboy rose to one knee, and he measured the distance -between him and Springer, and then the gun on the ground. Suddenly he -sprang toward it. But Springer intercepted him with a powerful kick -that tripped Jones and laid him flat. - -“Jones, you’re sure about as low-down as they come,” he said, in dark -scorn. “I’ve got to be satisfied with beatin’ you when I ought to kill -you.” - -“Ahuh! Wal, boss, it ain’t any safe bet thet you can beat me,” -returned Jones, sullenly, as he got up. As they rushed together Jane -had wit enough to pick up the gun, and then with it and Jones’, to get -back to a safe distance. She wanted to run away out of sight. But she -could neither do that nor keep her fascinated gaze from the -combatants. Even in her distraught condition she could see that the -cowboy, fierce and active and strong as he was, could not hold his own -with Springer. They fought over all the open space, and crashed into -the cedars and out again. The time came when Jones was on the ground -as much as he was erect. Bloody, dishevelled, beaten, he kept on -trying to stem the onslaught of blows. - -Suddenly he broke off a dead branch of cedar, and brandishing it -rushed at the rancher. Jane uttered a cry, closed her eyes and sank -down. She heard fierce imprecations and sodden blows. When at length -she opened her eyes in terror, fearing something dreadful, she saw -Springer erect, wiping his face, and Jones lying prone on the ground. - -Then Jane saw him go to his horse, untie a canteen from the saddle, -remove his bloody gloves and wash his face with a wet scarf. Next he -poured some water on Jones’ face. “Come on, Jane,” he called. “Reckon -it’s all over.” - -He tied the bridle of Jones’ horse to a cedar, and leading his own -animal turned to meet Jane. “I want to compliment you on gettin’ that -cowboy’s gun,” he said, warmly. “But for that they’d sure have been -somethin’ bad. I’d have had to kill him, Jane.... Here, give me the -guns.... You poor little tenderfoot from Missouri. No, not tenderfoot -any longer. You became a westerner today.” - -His face was bruised and cut, his dress dirty and bloody, but he did -not appear the worse for that fight. Jane found her legs scarcely able -to support her, and she had apparently lost her voice. “Let me put you -on my saddle till we find your horse,” he said, and lifted her lightly -as a feather to a seat crosswise. Then he walked with a hand on the -bridle. - -Jane saw him examining the ground, evidently searching for horse -tracks. “Ha! here we are.” And he led off in another direction through -the cedars. Soon Jane espied her horse, calmly nibbling at the -bleached grass. In a few moments she was back in her own saddle, -beginning to recover somewhat from her distress. But she divined that -as fast as she recovered from one set of emotions she was going to be -tormented by another. “There’s a good cold spring down here in the -rocks,” remarked Springer. “I think you need a drink, an’ so do I.” - -They rode down the sunny cedar slopes, into a shady ravine, and up to -some mossy cliffs from which a spring gushed. - -Jane was now in the throes of thrilling, bewildering conjectures and -fears. Why had Springer followed her? Why had he not sent one of the -cowboys? Why did she feel so afraid and foolish? He had always been -courteous and kind and thoughtful, at least until she had offended so -egregiously. And here he was now. He had fought for her. Would she -ever forget? Her heart began to pound. And when he dismounted to take -her off her horse she knew it was to see a scarlet and tell-tale face, -“Mr. Springer, I—I thought you were Tex—or somebody,” she said. - -He laughed as he took off his sombrero. His face was warm, and the -cuts were still bleeeding a little. “You sure can ride,” he replied. -“And that’s a good little pony.” - -He loosened the cinches on the horses. “Won’t you walk around a -little? It’ll rest you. We are fifteen miles from home.” - -“So far?” Then presently he lifted her up and stood beside her with a -hand on her horse. He looked up frankly into her face. The keen eyes -were softer than usual. He seemed so fine and strong and splendid. She -was afraid of her eyes and looked away. “When the boys found you were -gone they all saddled up to find you,” he said. “But I asked them if -they didn’t think the boss ought to have one chance. So they let me -come.” - -Something terrible happened to Jane’s heart just then. She was -overwhelmed by a strange happiness that she must hide, but could not. -It seemed there was a long silence. She felt Springer there, but she -could not look at him. “Do you like it out here in the west?” he -asked, presently. - -“Oh, I love it! I’ll never want to leave it,” she replied, -impulsively. - -“I reckon I’m glad to hear that.” Then there fell another silence. He -pressed closer to her and seemed now to be leaning on the horse. She -wondered if he heard the weird knocking of her heart against her side. - -“Will you be my wife an’ stay here always?” he asked, simply. “I’m in -love with you. I’ve been lonely since my mother died.... You’ll sure -have to marry some one of us. Because, as Tex says, if you don’t, -ranchin’ can’t go on much longer. These boys don’t seem to get -anywhere with you. Have I any chance—Jane—?” - -He possessed himself of her gloved hand and gave her a gentle pull. -Jane knew it was gentle because she scarcely felt it. Yet it had -irresistible power. She was swayed by that gentle pull. She was -slipping sidewise in her saddle. She was sliding into his arms. A -little later he smiled up at her and said: “Jane, they call me Bill -for short. Same as they call me Boss. But my two front names are Frank -Owens.” - -“Oh!” cried Jane, startled. “Then you—you—” - -“Yes, I’m the guilty one,” he replied happily. “It happened this way. -My bedroom, you know, is next to my office. I often heard the boys -poundin’ the typewriter. I had a hunch they were up to some trick. So -I spied upon them—heard about Frank Owens an’ the letters to the -little schoolmarm. At Beacon I got the postmistress to give me your -address. An’ of course I intercepted some of your letters. It sure has -turned out great.” - -“I—I don’t know about you or those terrible cowboys,” replied Jane, -dubiously. “How did _they_ happen on the name Frank Owens?” - -“Sure that’s a stumper. I reckon they put a job up on me.” - -“Frank—tell me—did _you_ write the—the love letters?” she asked, -appealingly. “There were two kinds of letters. That’s what I could -never understand.” - -“Jane, I reckon I did,” he confessed. “Somethin’ about your little -notes just won me. Does that make it all right?” - -“Yes, Frank, I reckon it does,” she returned, leaning down to kiss -him. - -“Let’s ride back home an’ tell the boys,” said Springer, gayly. “The -joke’s sure on them. I’ve corralled the little schoolmarm from -Missouri.” - - -[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the August 1926 issue -of McCalls magazine.] - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM MISSOURI *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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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="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: From Missouri</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Zane Grey</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrators: Frank Street</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em;'>Oscar Howard</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 10, 2022 [eBook #67370]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark. This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive.</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM MISSOURI ***</div> -<div class='ce'> -<h1 style='margin-bottom:0.7em;'>From Missouri </h1> -<div style='font-size:0.9em;font-style:italic;'>A Compelling Novelette of Far Western</div> -<div style='font-size:0.9em;margin-bottom:0.7em;font-style:italic;'>Life Complete in this Issue </div> -<div style='margin-bottom:0.5em;'>by Zane Grey </div> -<div style='font-size:0.8em;'>Paintings by Frank Street</div> -<div style='font-size:0.8em;'>Drawings by Oscar Howard</div> -</div> -<div id='i001' class='mt01 mb01 wi001'> - <img src='images/illus-001.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' /> -<p class='caption'>“The fact is, this heah ranch is a different place since you came,” went on Texas.</p> -</div> -<p>With jingling spurs a tall cowboy stalked out of the post-office to -confront his three comrades crossing the wide street from the saloon -opposite. “Look heah,” he said, shoving a letter under their noses. -“Which one of you long-horns has wrote her again?”</p> - -<p>From a gay, careless trio his listeners suddenly grew blank, then -intensely curious. They stared at the handwriting on the letter. “Tex, -I’m a son-of-a-gun if it ain’t from Missouri!” ejaculated Andy Smith, -his lean, red face bursting into a smile.</p> - -<p>“It shore is,” declared Nevada.</p> - -<p>“From Missouri!” echoed Panhandle Ames.</p> - -<p>“Wal?” queried Tex, almost with a snort.</p> - -<p>The three cowboys jerked up to look from Tex to one another, and then -back at Tex.</p> - -<p>“It’s from <i>her</i>,” went on Tex, his voice hushing on the pronoun. “You -all know thet handwritin’. Now how aboot this deal? We swore none of -us would write again to this heah schoolmarm. Some one of you has -double-crossed the outfit.” Loud and unified protestations of -innocence emanated from his comrades. But it was evident Tex did not -trust them, and that they did not trust him or each other. “Say, -boys,” said Panhandle, suddenly. “I see Beady in there lookin’ darn -sharp at us. Let’s get off in the woods somewhere.”</p> - -<p>“Back to the bar,” replied Nevada. “I reckon we’ll all need -stimulants.”</p> - -<p>“Beady!” ejaculated Tex, as they turned across the street. “He could -be to blame as much as any of us.”</p> - -<p>“Shore. It’d be more like Beady,” replied Nevada. “But Tex, yore mind -ain’t workin’. Our lady friend from Missouri has wrote before without -gettin’ any letter from us.”</p> - -<p>“How do we know thet?” demanded Tex, suspiciously. “Shore the boss’ -typewriter is a puzzle, but it could hide tracks. Savvy, pards?”</p> - -<p>“Gee, Tex, you need a drink,” returned Panhandle, peevishly.</p> - -<p>They entered the saloon and strode to the bar, where from all -appearances Tex was not the only one to seek artificial strength. Then -they repaired to a corner, where they took seats and stared at the -letter Tex threw down before them. “From Missouri, all right,” averred -Panhandle, studying the postmark. “Kansas City, Missouri.”</p> - -<p>“It’s her writin’,” added Nevada, in awe. “Shore I’d know thet out of -a million letters.”</p> - -<p>“Ain’t you goin’ to read it to us?” queried Andy Smith.</p> - -<p>“Mister Frank Owens,” replied Tex, reading from the address on the -letter. “Springer’s Ranch. Beacon, Arizona.... Boys, this heah Frank -Owens is all of us.”</p> - -<p>“Huh! Mebbe he’s a darn sight more,” added Andy.</p> - -<p>“Looks like a low-down trick we’re to blame for,” resumed Tex, -seriously shaking his hawk-like head. “Heah we reads in a Kansas City -paper aboot a school teacher wantin’ a job out in dry Arizonie. An’ we -ups an’ writes her an’ gets her ararin’ to come. Then when she writes -and tells us she’s <i>not over forty</i>—then we quits like yellow coyotes. -An’ we four anyhow shook hands on never writin’ her again. Wal, -somebody did, an’ I reckon you-all think me as big a liar as I think -you. But thet ain’t the point. Heah’s another letter to Mister Owens -an’ I’ll bet my saddle it means trouble. Shore I’m plumb afraid to -read it.”</p> - -<p>“Say, give it to me,” demanded Andy. “I ain’t afraid of any woman.”</p> - -<p>Tex snatched the letter out of Andy’s hand. “Cowboy, you’re too poor -educated to read letters from ladies,” observed Tex. “Gimme a knife, -somebody ... Say, it’s all perfumed.”</p> - -<p>Tex impressively spread out the letter and read laboriously:</p> - -<blockquote> -<div style='text-align:right'>Kansas City, Mo.,</div> -<div style='text-align:right; margin-right:4em;'>June 15.</div> - -<p style='text-indent:0'>Dear Mr. Owens:</p> - -<p>Your last letter has explained away much that was vague and perplexing in -your other letters. It has inspired me with hope and anticipation. I shall -not take time now to express my thanks, but hasten to get ready to go -West. I shall leave tomorrow and arrive at Beacon on June 19, at 4:30 -P. M. You see I have studied the time-table.</p> - -<div style='text-align:right;'>Yours very truly,</div> -<div style='text-align:right; margin-right:1em;'>Jane Stacey.</div> -</blockquote> -<p>Profound silence followed Tex’s perusal of the letter. The cowboys -were struck dumb. But suddenly Nevada exploded: “My Gawd, fellars, -today’s the nineteenth!”</p> - -<p>“Wal, Springer needs a schoolmarm at the ranch,” finally spoke up the -practical Andy. “There’s half a dozen kids growin’ up without any -schoolin’, not to talk about other ranches. I heard the boss say this -hisself.”</p> - -<p>“Who the mischief did it?” demanded Tex, in a rage with himself and -his accomplices.</p> - -<p>“What’s the sense in hollerin’ aboot thet now?” returned Nevada. “It’s -done. She’s comin’. She’ll be on the Limited. Reckon we’ve got five -hours. It ain’t enough. What’ll we <i>do</i>?”</p> - -<p>“I can get awful drunk in thet time,” contributed Panhandle, -nonchalantly.</p> - -<p>“Ahuh! An’ leave it all to us,” retorted Tex, scornfully. “But we got -to stand pat on this heah deal. Don’t you know this is Saturday an’ -thet Springer will be in town?”</p> - -<p>“Aw, confound it! We’re all goin’ to get fired,” declared Panhandle. -“Serves us right for listenin’ to you, Tex. We can all gamble this -trick hatched in your head.”</p> - -<p>“Not my haid more’n yours or anybody,” returned Tex, hotly.</p> - -<p>“Say, you locoed cow-punchers,” interposed Nevada. “What’ll we do?”</p> - -<p>“We’ll have to tell Springer.”</p> - -<p>“But Tex, the boss’d never believe us about not follerin’ the letters -up. He’ll fire the whole outfit.”</p> - -<p>“But he’ll have to be told somethin’,” returned Panhandle stoutly.</p> - -<p>“Shore he will,” went on Tex. “I’ve an idea. It’s too late now to turn -this poor schoolmarm back. An’ somebody’ll have to meet her. -Somebody’s got to borrow a buckboard an’ drive her out to the ranch.”</p> - -<p>“Excuse me!” replied Andy. And Panhandle and Nevada echoed him.</p> - -<p>“I’ll ride over on my hoss, an’ see you all meet the lady,” added -Andy.</p> - -<p>Tex had lost his scowl, but he did not look as if he favorably -regarded Andy’s idea. “Hang it all!” he burst out, hotly. “Can’t some -of you gents look at it from her side of the fence? Nice fix for any -woman, I say. Somebody ought to get it good for this mess. If I ever -find out—”</p> - -<p>“Go on with your grand idea,” interposed Nevada.</p> - -<p>“You all come with me. I’ll get a buckboard. I’ll meet the lady an’ do -the talkin’. I’ll let her down easy. An’ if I cain’t head her back to -Missouri we’ll fetch her out to the ranch an’ then leave it up to -Springer. Only we won’t tell her or him or anybody who’s the real -Frank Owens.”</p> - -<p>“Tex, that ain’t so plumb bad,” declared Andy, admiringly. “What <i>I</i> -want to know is who’s goin’ to do the talkin’ to the boss?” queried -Panhandle. “It mightn’t be so hard to explain now. But after drivin’ -up to the ranch with a woman! You all know Springer’s shy. Young an’ -rich, like he is, an’ a bachelor—he’s been fussed over so he’s plumb -afraid of girls. An’ here you’re fetchin’ a middle-aged schoolmarm -who’s romantic an’ mushy! Shucks! .... I say send her home on the next -train.”</p> - -<p>“Pan, you’re wise on hosses an’ cattle, but you don’t know human -nature, an’ you’re daid wrong about the boss,” rejoined Tex. “We’re in -a bad fix, I’ll admit. But I lean more to fetchin’ the lady up than -sendin’ her back. Somebody down Beacon way would get wise. Mebbe the -schoolmarm might talk. She’d shore have cause. An’ suppose Springer -hears aboot it—that some of us or all of us played a low-down trick on -a woman. He’d be madder at that than if we fetched her up. Likely -he’ll try to make amends. The boss may be shy on girls but he’s the -squarest man in Arizonie. My idea is we’ll deny any of us is Frank -Owens, an’ we’ll meet Miss—Miss—what was that there name? ... Miss -Jane Stacey and fetch her up to the ranch, an’ let <i>her</i> do the -talkin’ to Springer.”</p> - -<p>During the next several hours, while Tex searched the town for a -buckboard and team he could borrow, the other cowboys wandered from -the saloon to the post-office and back again, and then to the store, -the restaurant and all around. The town had gradually filled up with -Saturday visitors. “Boys, there’s the boss,” suddenly broke out Andy, -pointing; and he ducked into the nearest doorway, which happened to be -that of another saloon. It was half full of cowboys, ranchers, -Mexicans, tobacco smoke and noise. Andy’s companions had rushed -pell-mell after him; and not until they all got inside did they -realize that this saloon was a rendezvous for cowboys decidedly not on -friendly terms with Springer’s outfit. Nevada was the only one of the -trio who took the situation nonchalantly.</p> - -<p>“Wal, we’re in, an’ what the mischief do we care for Beady Jones, an’ -his outfit?” remarked Nevada, quite loud enough to be heard by others -beside his friends.</p> - -<p>Naturally they lined up at the bar, and this was not a good thing for -young men who had an important engagement and who must preserve -sobriety.</p> - -<p>After several rounds of drinks they began to whisper and snicker over -the possibility of Tex meeting the boss.</p> - -<p>“If only it doesn’t come off until Tex gets our forty-year-old -schoolmarm from Missourie with him in the buckboard!” exclaimed -Panhandle, in huge glee.</p> - -<p>“Shore. Tex, the handsome galoot, is most to blame for this mess,” -added Nevada. “Thet cowboy won’t be above makin’ love to Jane, if he -thinks we’re not around. But, fellars, we want to be there.”</p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t miss seein’ the boss meet Tex for a million!” said Andy.</p> - -<p>Presently a tall, striking-looking cowboy, with dark face and small -bright eyes like black beads, detached himself from a group of noisy -companions, and confronted the trio, more particularly Nevada. “Howdy, -men,” he greeted them, “what you-all doin’ in here?”</p> - -<p>He was coolly impertinent, and his action and query noticeably stilled -the room. Andy and Panhandle leaned back against the bar. They had -been in such situations before and knew who would do the talking for -them. “Howdy, Jones,” replied Nevada, coolly and carelessly. “We -happened to bust in here by accident. Reckon we’re usually more -particular what kind of company we mix with.”</p> - -<p>“Ahuh! Springer’s outfit is shore a stuck-up one,” sneered Jones, in a -loud tone. “So stuck-up they won’t even ride around drift-fences.”</p> - -<p>Nevada slightly changed his position. “Beady, I’ve had a couple of -drinks an’ ain’t very clear-headed,” drawled Nevada. “Would you mind -talkin’ so I can understand you?”</p> - -<p>“Bah! You savvy all right,” declared Jones, sarcastically. “I’m -tellin’ you straight what I’ve been layin’ to tell your yaller-headed -Texas pard.”</p> - -<p>“Now you’re speakin’ English, Beady. Tex an’ me are pards, shore. An’ -I’ll take it kind of you to get this talk out of your system. You seem -to be chock full.”</p> - -<p>“You bet I’m full an’ I’m goin’ to bust,” shouted Jones, whose temper -evidently could not abide the slow, cool speech with which he had been -answered.</p> - -<p>“Wal, before you bust, explain what you mean by Springer’s outfit not -ridin’ around drift-fences.”</p> - -<p>“Easy. You just cut through wire-fences,” retorted Jones.</p> - -<p>“Beady, I hate to call you a low-down liar, but that’s what you are.”</p> - -<p>“You’re another,” yelled Jones. “I seen your Texas Jack cut our -drift-fence.” Nevada struck out with remarkable swiftness and force. -He knocked Jones over upon a card-table, with which he crashed to the -floor. Jones was so stunned that he did not recover before some of his -comrades rushed to him, and helped him up. Then, black in the face and -cursing savagely, he jerked for his gun. He got it out, but before he -could level it, two of his friends seized him, and wrestled with him, -talking in earnest alarm. But Jones fought them.</p> - -<p>“You blame fool,” finally yelled one of them. “He’s not packin’ a gun. -It’d be murder.”</p> - -<p>That brought Jones to his senses, though certainly not to calmness. -“Mister Nevada—next time you hit town you’d better come heeled,” he -hissed between his teeth.</p> - -<p>“Shore. An’ thet’ll be bad for you, Beady,” replied Nevada, curtly. -Panhandle and Andy drew Nevada out to the street, where they burst -into mingled excitement and anger. Their swift strides gravitated -toward the saloon across from the post-office. When they emerged -sometime later they were arm in arm, and far from steady on their -feet. They paraded up the one main street of Beacon, not in the least -conspicuous on a Saturday afternoon. As they were neither hilarious -nor dangerous, nobody paid any particular attention to them. Springer, -their boss, met them, gazed at them casually, and passed without sign -of recognition. If he had studied the boys closely he might have -received an impression that they were hugging a secret, as well as -each other. In due time the trio presented themselves at the railroad -station. Tex was there, nervously striding up and down the platform, -now and then looking at his watch. The afternoon train was nearly due. -At the hitching-rail below the platform stood a new buckboard and a -rather spirited team of horses.</p> - -<p>The boys, coming across the wide square, encountered this evidence of -Tex’s extremity, and struck a posture before it. “Livery shable -outfit, by gosh,” said Andy.</p> - -<p>“Thish here Tex spendin’ his money royal,” agreed Nevada.</p> - -<p>Then Tex espied them. He stared. Suddenly he jumped straight up. -Striding to the edge of the platform, with face as red as a beet, he -began to curse them. “Whash masher, ole pard?” asked Andy, who -appeared a little less stable than his comrades.</p> - -<p>Tex’s reply was another volley of expressive profanity. And he ended -with: “—you—all yellow quitters to get drunk an’ leave me in the -lurch. But you gotta get away from heah. I shore won’t have you about -when thet train comes.”</p> - -<p>“Tex, yore boss is in town lookin’ for you,” said Nevada.</p> - -<p>“Tex, he jest ambled past us like we wasn’t gennelmen,” added -Panhandle. “Never sheen us atall.”</p> - -<p>“No wonder, you drunken cow-punchers,” declared Tex, in disgust. “Now -I tell you to clear out of heah.”</p> - -<p>“But pard, we just want shee you meet our Jane from Missouri,” replied -Andy.</p> - -<p>Just then a shrill whistle announced the train. “You can sneak off -now,” he went on, “an’ leave me to face the music. I always knew I was -the only gentleman in Springer’s outfit.”</p> - -<p>The three cowboys did not act upon Tex’s sarcastic suggestion, but -they hung back, looking at once excited and sheepish and hugely -delighted. The long gray dusty train pulled into the station and -stopped. There was only one passenger for Springer—a woman—and she -alighted from the coach near where the cowboys stood waiting. She wore -a long linen coat and a brown veil that completely hid her face. She -was not tall and she was much too slight for the heavy valise the -porter handed to her.</p> - -<p>Tex strode grandly toward her. “Miss—Miss Stacey, ma’am?” he asked, -removing his sombrero.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she replied. “Are you Mr. Owens?”</p> - -<p>Evidently the voice was not what Tex had expected and it disconcerted -him. “No ma’am I—I’m not Mister Owens,” he said. “Please let me take -your bag ... I’m Tex Dillon, one of Springer’s cowboys. An’ I’ve come -to meet you—an’ fetch you out to the ranch.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, but I—I expected to be met by Mr. Owens,” she replied.</p> - -<p>“Ma’am, there’s been a mistake—I’ve got to tell you—there ain’t any -Mister Owens,” blurted out Tex, manfully.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she said, with a little start.</p> - -<p>“You see, it was this way,” went on the confused cowboy. “One of -Springer’s cowboys—not <i>me</i>—wrote them letters to you, signin’ his -name Owens. There ain’t no such named cowboy in this county. Your last -letter—an’ here it is—fell into my hands—all by accident. Ma’am, it -sure was. I took my three friends heah—I took them into my confidence. -An’ we all came down to meet you.” She moved her head and evidently -looked at the strange trio of cowboys Tex had pointed out as his -friends. They came forward then, but not eagerly, and they still held -to each other. Their condition, not to consider their immense -excitement, could not have been lost even upon a tenderfoot from -Missouri.</p> - -<p>“Please return my—my letter,” she said, turning again to Tex, and she -put out a small gloved hand to take it from him. “Then—there is no Mr. -Frank Owens?”</p> - -<p>“No Ma’am, there isn’t,” replied Tex miserably, and waited for her to -speak.</p> - -<p>“Is there—no—no truth in his—is there no school teacher wanted here?” -she faltered.</p> - -<p>“I think so, Ma’am,” he replied. “Springer said he needed one. That’s -what started the advertisement an’ the letters to you. You can see the -boss an’—an’ explain. I’m sure it will be all right. He’s the grandest -fellow. He won’t stand for no joke on a poor old schoolmarm.” In his -bewilderment Tex had spoken his thoughts, and that last slip made him -look more miserable than ever, and made the boys appear ready to -burst.</p> - -<p>“‘Poor old schoolmarm!’” echoed Miss Stacey. “Perhaps the deceit has -not been wholly on one side.” Whereupon she swept aside the enveloping -veil to reveal a pale and pretty face. She was young. She had clear -gray eyes and a sweet, sensitive mouth. Little curls of chestnut hair -straggled from under her veil. And she had tiny freckles.</p> - -<p>Tex stared at this apparition. “But you—you—the letter says she wasn’t -over forty,” he ejaculated.</p> - -<p>“She’s not,” rejoined Miss Stacey, curtly.</p> - -<p>Then there were visible and remarkable indications of a transformation -in the attitude of the cowboy. But the approach of a stranger suddenly -seemed to paralyze him. This fellow was very tall. He strolled up to -them. He was booted and spurred. He had halted before the group and -looked expectantly from the boys to the young woman and back again. -But on the moment the four cowboys appeared dumb. “Are—are you Mr. -Springer?” asked Miss Stacey.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he replied, and he took off his sombrero. He had a dark, frank -face and keen eyes.</p> - -<p>“I am Jane Stacey,” she explained hurriedly. “I’m a school teacher. I -answered an advertisement. And I’ve come from Missouri because of -letters I received from a Mr. Frank Owens, of Springer’s Ranch. This -young man met me. He has not been very—explicit. I gather that there -is no Mr. Owens—that I’m the victim of a cowboy joke ... But he said -that Mr. Springer won’t stand for a joke on a poor old schoolmarm.”</p> - -<p>“I sure am glad to meet you, Miss Stacey,” responded the rancher, with -the easy western courtesy that must have been comforting to her. -“Please let me see the letters.” She opened a hand-bag, and searching -in it presently held out several letters. Springer never even glanced -at his stricken cowboys. He took the letters.</p> - -<p>“No, not that one,” said Miss Stacey, blushing scarlet. “That’s one I -wrote to Mr. Owens, but didn’t mail. It’s—hardly necessary to read -that.” While Springer read the others she looked at him. Presently he -asked for the letter she had taken back. Miss Stacey hesitated, then -refused. He looked cool, serious, business-like. Then his keen eyes -swept over the four cowboys.</p> - -<p>“Tex, are you Mister Frank Owens?” he queried sharply.</p> - -<p>“I—shore—ain’t,” gasped Tex.</p> - -<p>Springer asked each of the other boys the same question and received -decidedly maudlin but negative answers. Then he turned again to the -girl. “Miss Stacey, I regret to say that you are indeed the victim of -a low-down cowboy trick,” he said. “I’d apologize for such heathen if -I knew how. All I can say is I’m sorry.”</p> - -<p>“Then—then there isn’t any school to teach—any place for me—out here?” -she asked, and there were tears in her eyes.</p> - -<p>“That’s another matter,” he replied, with a winning smile. “Of course -there’s a place for you. I’ve wanted a school teacher for a long time. -Some of the men out at the ranch have kids an’ they sure need a -teacher.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m—so glad,” she murmured, in great relief. “I was afraid I’d -have to go—all the way back. You see I’m not so strong as I used to -be—and my doctor advised a change of climate—dry western air. I can’t -go back now.”</p> - -<p>“You don’t look sick,” he said, with the keen eyes on her. “You look -very well to me.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, indeed, I’m not very strong,” she returned, quickly. “But I must -confess I wasn’t altogether truthful about my age.”</p> - -<p>“I was wondering about that,” he said, gravely. There seemed just a -glint of a twinkle in his eye. “Not over forty.”</p> - -<p>Again she blushed and this time with confusion. “It wasn’t altogether -a lie. I was afraid to mention I was only—young. And I wanted to get -the position so much ... I’m a good—a competent teacher, unless the -scholars are too grown-up.”</p> - -<p>“The scholars you’ll have at my ranch are children,” he replied. -“Well, we’d better be starting if we are to get there before dark. -It’s a long ride. Is this all your baggage?”</p> - -<p>Springer led her over to the buckboard and helped her in, then stowed -the valise under the back seat. “Here, let me put this robe over you,” -he said. “It’ll be dusty. And when we’get up on the ridge it’s cold.” -At this juncture Tex came to life and he started forward. But Andy and -Nevada and Panhandle stood motionless, staring at the fresh and now -flushed face of the young school teacher. Tex untied the halter of the -spirited team and they began to prance. He gathered up the reins as if -about to mount the buckboard.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got all the supplies an’ the mail, Mr. Springer,” he said, -cheerfully, “an’ I can be startin’ at once.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll drive Miss Stacey,” replied Springer, dryly.</p> - -<p>Tex looked blank for a moment. Then Miss Stacey’s clear gray eyes -seemed to embarrass him. A tinge of red came into his tanned cheek. -“Tex, you can ride my horse home,” said the rancher.</p> - -<p>“That wild stallion of yours!” expostulated the cowboy. “Now Mr. -Springer. I shore am afraid of him.” This from the best horseman on -the whole range!</p> - -<p>Apparently the rancher took Tex seriously.</p> - -<p>“He sure is wild, Tex, and I know you’re a poor hand with a horse. If -he throws you, why you’ll have your own horse.” Miss Stacey turned -away her eyes. There was a hint of a smile on her lips. Springer got -in beside her and, taking the reins without another glance at his -discomfited cowboys, he drove away.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>A few weeks altered many things at Springer’s Ranch.</p> - -<p>There was a marvelous change in the dress and deportment of cowboys -off duty. There were some clean and happy and interested children. -There was a rather taciturn and lonely young rancher who was given to -thoughtful dreams and whose keen eyes watched the little adobe -schoolhouse under the cottonwoods. And in Jane Stacey’s face a rich -bloom and tan had begun to warm out the paleness. It was not often -that Jane left the schoolhouse without meeting one of Springer’s -cowboys. She met Tex most frequently and, according to Andy, that fact -was because Tex was foreman and could send the boys off to the ends of -the range. And this afternoon Jane encountered the foreman. He was -clean-shaven, bright and eager, a superb figure. Tex had been lucky -enough to have a gun with him one day when a rattlesnake frightened -the school teacher and he had shot the reptile. Miss Stacey had leaned -against him in her fright; she had been grateful; she had admired his -wonderful skill with a gun and had murmured that a woman always would -be safe with such a man. Thereafter Tex packed his gun unmindful of -the ridicule of his rivals. “Miss Stacey, come, for a little ride, -won’t you?” he asked, eagerly.</p> - -<p>The cowboys had already taught her how to handle a horse and to ride; -and if all they said of her appearance and accomplishment were true -she was indeed worth watching. “I’m sorry,” replied Jane. “I promised -Nevada I’d ride with him today.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon Nevada is miles an’ miles up the valley by now,” replied -Tex. “He won’t be back till long after dark.”</p> - -<p>“But he made an engagement with me,” protested the school mistress.</p> - -<p>“An’ shore he has to work. He’s ridin’ for Springer, an’ I’m foreman -of this ranch,” said Tex.</p> - -<p>“You sent him off on some long chase,” averred Jane severely. “Now -didn’t you? Tell me the truth.”</p> - -<p>“I shore did. He comes crowin’ down to the bunk-house—about how he’s -goin’ to ride with you an’ how we-all are not in the runnin’. I says, -‘Nevada, I reckon there’s a steer mired in the sand up in Cedar Wash. -You ride up there an’ pull him out.’”</p> - -<p>“And then what did he say?” inquired Jane, curiously.</p> - -<p>“Why, Miss Stacey, shore I hate to tell you. I didn’t think he was -so—so bad. He just used the most awful language as was ever heard on -this heah ranch. Then he rode off.”</p> - -<p>“But <i>was</i> there a steer mired up in the Wash?”</p> - -<p>“I reckon so,” replied Tex, rather shamefacedly. “Most always is one.”</p> - -<p>Jane let scornful eyes rest upon the foreman. “That was a mean trick,” -she said.</p> - -<p>“There’s been worse done to me by him, an’ all of them. An’ all’s fair -in love an’ war.... Will you ride with me?”</p> - -<p>“No. I think I’ll ride off alone up Cedar Wash and help Nevada find -that mired steer.”</p> - -<p>“Miss Stacey, you’re shore not goin’ to ride off alone. Savvy that?”</p> - -<p>“Who’ll keep me from it?” demanded Jane, with spirit.</p> - -<p>“I will. Or any of the boys, for thet matter. Springer’s orders.” Jane -started with surprise and then blushed rosy red. Tex, also, appeared -confused at his disclosure. “Miss Stacey, I oughtn’t have said that. -It slipped out. The boss said we needn’t tell you, but you were to be -watched an’ taken care of. It’s a wild range. You could get lost or -thrown from a horse.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Springer is very kind and thoughtful,” murmured Jane.</p> - -<p>“The fact is, this heah ranch is a different place since you came,” -went on Tex as if emboldened. “An’ this beatin’ around the bush -doesn’t suit me. All the boys have lost their haids over you.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed? How flattering,” replied Jane, with just a hint of mockery. -She was fond of all her admirers, but there were four of them she had -not yet forgiven.</p> - -<p>The tall foreman was not without spirit.</p> - -<p>“It’s true all right, as you’ll find out pretty quick,” he replied. -“If you had any eyes you’d see that cattle raisin’ on this heah ranch -is about to halt till somethin’ is decided. Why, even Springer himself -is sweet on you.”</p> - -<p>“How dare you!” flashed Jane, suddenly aghast.</p> - -<p>“I ain’t afraid to tell the truth,” declared Tex, stoutly. “He is. The -boys all say so. He’s grouchier than ever. He’s jealous. He watches -you—”</p> - -<p>“Suppose I told him you had dared to say such things?” interrupted -Jane, trembling on the verge of strange emotion.</p> - -<p>“Why, he’d be tickled to death. He hasn’t got nerve enough to tell you -himself.”</p> - -<p>This cowboy, like all his comrades, was hopeless. She was about to -attempt to change the conversation when Tex took her into his arms. -She struggled—and fought with all her might. But he succeeded in -kissing her cheek and then the tip of her ear. Finally she broke away -from him. “Now—” she panted. “You’ve done it—you’ve insulted me. Now -I’ll never ride with you again—even speak to you.”</p> - -<p>“Shore I didn’t insult you,” replied Tex. “Jane—won’t you marry me?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“Won’t you be my sweetheart—till you care enough to—to—”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“But, Jane, you’ll forgive me, an’ be good friends again?”</p> - -<p>“Never!” Jane did not mean all she said. She had come to understand -these men of the ranges—their loneliness—their hunger for love. But in -spite of her sympathy and affection she needed sometimes to be cold -and severe.</p> - -<p>“Jane, you owe me a good deal—more than you’ve any idea,” said Tex, -seriously. “You’d never have been here but for me,” he said, solemnly.</p> - -<p>Jane could only stare at him.</p> - -<p>“I meant to tell you long ago. But I shore didn’t have nerve. Jane, -I—I was that there letter writin’ fellar. I wrote them letters you -got. I am Frank Owens.”</p> - -<p>“No!” exclaimed Jane. She was startled. That matter of Frank Owens had -never been cleared up. It had ceased to rankle within her breast, but -it had never been forgotten. She looked up earnestly into the big -fellow’s face. It was like a mask. But she saw through it. He was -lying. He was brazen. Almost she thought she saw a laugh deep in his -eyes.</p> - -<p>“I shore am thet lucky man who found you a job when you was sick an’ -needed a change ... An’ thet you’ve grown so pretty an’ so well you -owe all to me.”</p> - -<p>“Tex, if you really were Frank Owens, <i>that</i> would make a great -difference. I owe him everything. I would—but I don’t believe you are -he.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a sure honest gospel fact,” declared Tex. “I hope to die if it -ain’t!”</p> - -<p>Jane shook her head sadly at his monstrous prevarication. “I don’t -believe you,” she said, and left him standing there.</p> - -<p>It might have been mere coincidence that during the next few days both -Nevada and Panhandle waylaid and conveyed to her intelligence by -divers and pathetic arguments the astounding fact that each was Mr. -Frank Owens. More likely, however, was it the unerring instinct of -lovers who had sensed the importance and significance of this -mysterious correspondent’s part in bringing health and happiness into -Jane Stacey’s life. She listened to them with anger and sadness and -amusement at their deceit, and she had the same answer for both: “I -don’t believe you.”</p> - -<p>And through these machinations of the cowboys, Jane had begun to have -vague and sweet and disturbing suspicions of her own as to the real -identity of that mysterious cowboy, Frank Owens. Andy had originality -as well as daring. He would have completely deceived Jane if she had -not happened, by the merest accident, to discover the relation between -him and certain love letters she had begun to find in her desk. She -was deceived at first, for the typewriting of these was precisely like -that in the letters by Frank Owens. She had been suddenly aware of a -wild start of rapture. That had given place to a shameful, open-eyed -realization of the serious condition of her own heart. But she -happened to discover in Andy the writer of these missives, and her -dream was shattered, if not forgotten. Andy certainly would not carry -love letters to her that he did not write. He had merely learned to -use the same typewriter, and at opportune times he had slipped the -letters into her desk. Jane now began to have her own little aching, -haunting secret which was so hard to put out of her mind. Every letter -and every hint of Frank Owens made her remember. Therefore she decided -to put a check to Andy’s sly double-dealing. She addressed a note to -him and wrote: “Dear Andy:—That day at the train when you thought I -was a poor old schoolmarm you swore you were not Frank Owens. Now you -swear you are! If you were a man who knew what truth is you’d have a -chance. But now—No! You are a monster of iniquity. I don’t believe -you.” She left the note in plain sight where she always found his -letters in her desk. The next morning the note was gone. And so was -Andy. She did not see him for three days.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>It came about that a dance was to be held at Beacon during the late -summer. Jane was wild to go. But it developed that she could not -accept the escort of any one of her cowboy admirers without alienating -the others. And she began to see the visions of this wonderful dance -fade away when Springer accosted her. “Who’s the lucky cowboy to take -you to our dance?”</p> - -<p>“He’s as mysterious and doubtful as Mr. Frank Owens,” replied Jane.</p> - -<p>“You don’t mean you haven’t been asked to go?”</p> - -<p>“They’ve all asked me. That’s the trouble.”</p> - -<p>“I see. But you mustn’t miss it. It’d be pleasant for you to meet some -of the ranchers and their wives. Suppose you go with me?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Mr. Springer, I—I’d be delighted,” replied Jane.</p> - -<p>“Thank you. Then it’s settled. I must be in town all that day on -cattle business—next Friday. I’ll ask the Hartwells to stop here for -you, an’ drive you in.” He seemed gravely, kindly interested as -always, yet there was something in his eyes that interfered with the -regular beating of Jane’s heart.</p> - -<p>Jane spent much of the remaining leisure hours on a gown to wear at -this dance which promised so much. The Hartwells turned out to be nice -people whose little girl was one of Jane’s pupils. On the drive -townward, through the crisp fall gloaming, while listening to the -chatter of the children, and the talk of the elder Hartwells’, she -could not help wondering what Springer would think of her in the new -gown.</p> - -<p>They arrived late. “Reckon it’s just as well for you an’ the -children,” said Mrs. Hartwell to Jane. “These dances last from seven -to seven.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I am a tenderfoot from Missouri. But that’s not going to keep -me from having a wonderful time.”</p> - -<p>“You will, dear, unless the cowboys fight over you, which is likely. -But at least there won’t be any shootin’. My husband an’ Springer are -both on the committee an’ they won’t admit any gun-totin’ cowpuncher.” -Here Jane had concrete evidence of something she had begun to suspect. -These careless, love-making cowboys might be dangerous.</p> - -<p>Jane’s first sight of that dance hall astonished her. It was a big -barn-like room, roughly raftered and sided, decorated enough with -colored bunting to take away the bareness. The volume of sound amazed -her. Music and trample of boots, gay laughter, deep voices of men, all -seemed to merge into a loud hum. A swaying, wheeling horde of dancers -circled past her. No more time, then, was accorded her to clarify the -spectacle, for Springer suddenly confronted her. If Jane needed -assurance of what she had dreamed of and hoped for she had it in his -frank admiration. “Sure it’s somethin’ fine for Bill Springer to have -the prettiest girl here,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Thank you—but, Mr. Springer—I sadly fear you were a cowboy before you -became a rancher,” she replied archly.</p> - -<p>“Sure I was. An’ that you may find out,” he laughed. “Of course, I -could never come up to—say—Frank Owens. But let’s dance. I shall have -little enough of you in this outfit.”</p> - -<p>So he swung her into the circle of dancers. Jane found him easy to -dance with, though he was far from expert. Jane felt strange and -uncertain with him. Then soon she became aware of the cessation of hum -and movement.</p> - -<p>“Sure that was the best dance I ever had,” said Springer, with -something of radiance in his dark face. “An’ now I must lose you to -this outfit comin’.” Manifestly he meant his cowboys Tex, Nevada, -Panhandle and Andy, who presented themselves four abreast, shiny of -hair and face.</p> - -<p>“Good luck,” he whispered. “If you get into trouble let me know.”</p> - -<p>What he meant quickly dawned upon Jane. Right then it began. She saw -there was absolutely no use in trying to avoid or refuse these young -men. The wisest and safest course was to surrender, which she did. -“Boys, don’t all talk at once. I can dance with only one of you at a -time. So I’ll take you in alphabetical order. I’m a poor old -schoolmarm from Missouri. It’ll be Andy, Nevada, Panhandle and Tex.”</p> - -<p>Despite their protests she held rigidly to this rule. Each one of the -cowboys took shameless advantage of his opportunity. Outrageously as -they all hugged her, Tex was the worst offender. She tried to stop -dancing, but he carried her along as if she had been a child. He was -rapt, and yet there seemed an imp of mischief in him.</p> - -<p>“Tex—how dare—you!” panted Jane, when at last the dance ended. “You -ought to be—ashamed. I’ll not dance with you again.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, now,” he pleaded.</p> - -<p>“I won’t, Tex, so there. You’re no gentleman.”</p> - -<p>“Ahuh!” he ejaculated, drawing himself up stiffly. “All right, I’ll go -out an’ get drunk, an’ when I come back I’ll clean out this heah -hall.”</p> - -<p>“Tex! Don’t go,” she called, hurriedly, as he started to stride away. -“I’ll take that back. I will give you another dance—if you promise -to—to behave.” Thus she got rid of him, and was carried off by Mrs. -Hartwell to be introduced to ranchers and their wives, to girls and -their escorts. Her next partner was a tall, handsome cowboy named -Jones. She did not know quite what to make of him. He talked all the -time. He was witty and engaging, and he had a most subtly flattering -tongue. Jane could not fail to grasp that he might even be worse than -Tex, but at least he did not make love to her with physical violence. -She enjoyed that dance and admitted the singular, forceful charm about -this man. Jones demanded, rather than begged, for another dance, and -though she laughingly explained her predicament in regard to partners, -he said he would come after her anyhow. Then followed several dances -with new partners, between which Jane became more than ever the centre -of attraction. It all went to her head like wine. She was having a -perfectly wonderful time. Jones claimed her again, in fact whirled her -out on the floor; and it seemed then that the irresistible rush of the -dances was similar to her sensations. Twice again before the supper -hour at midnight she found herself dancing with Jones. How he managed -it she did not know. He just took her, carried her off by storm. Jane -did not awaken to this unpardonable conduct of hers until she -discovered that a little while before she had promised Tex his second -dance, and then she had given it to Jones.</p> - -<div id='i002' class='mt01 mb01 wi002'> - <img src='images/illus-003.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' /> -<p class='caption'>Twice again ... she found herself dancing with Jones.... He just took her, carried her off by storm.</p> -</div> -<p>Then came the supper hour. It was a gala occasion, for which, -evidently, the children had heroically kept awake. Jane enjoyed the -children immensely. She sat with the numerous Hartwells, all of whom -were most kindly attentive to her. Jane wondered why Mr. Springer did -not put in an appearance, but considered his absence due to numerous -duties. When the supper hour ended Jane caught sight of Andy.</p> - -<p>“Andy, please find Tex for me. I owe him a dance, and I’ll give him -the very first, unless Mr. Springer comes for it.”</p> - -<p>Andy regarded her with an aloofness totally new to her. “Wal, I’ll -tell him. But I reckon Tex ain’t presentable just now. An’ all of us -are through dancin’ tonight. There’s been a little fight.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no!” cried Jane. “Who?”</p> - -<p>“Wal, when you cut Tex’s dance for Beady Jones, you sure put our -outfit in bad,” replied Andy coldly. “At thet, there wouldn’t have -been anythin’ come of it here if Beady Jones hadn’t got to shootin’ -off his chin. Tex slapped his face an’ thet sure started a fight. -Beady licked Tex, too, I’m sorry to say. Wal, we had a dickens of a -time keepin’ Nevada out of it. But we kept them apart till Springer -come out. An’ what the boss said to thet outfit was sure aplenty. -Beady Jones kept talkin’ back, nasty like—you know he was once foreman -for us—till Springer got good an’ mad. An’ he said: ‘Jones, I fired -you once because you was a little too slick for our outfit, an’ I’ll -tell you this, if it comes to a pinch I’ll give you the blamest -thrashin’ any smart-aleck cowboy ever got.’ You can bet that shut -Beady Jones’ loud mouth.”</p> - -<p>After that rather lengthy speech, Andy left her unceremoniously -standing there alone. Jane looked for Springer, hoping yet fearing he -would come to her. But he did not. She had another uninterrupted dizzy -round of dancing until her strength failed. At four o’clock she was -scarcely able to walk. Her pretty dress was torn and mussed; her -slippers were worn ragged. And her feet were dead. From that time she -sat with Mrs. Hartwell looking on, and trying to keep awake.</p> - -<p>At length the exodus began. Jane went out with the Hartwells, to be -received by Springer, who was decidedly cool to Jane. All through the -long ride out to the ranch he never addressed her. Springer’s sister, -and the matronly housekeeper were waiting for them, with cheery -welcome, and invitation to a hot breakfast.</p> - -<p>Presently Jane found herself momentarily alone with the rancher. “Miss -Stacey,” he said, in a voice she had never heard, “your flirtin’ with -Beady Jones made trouble for the Springer outfit.”</p> - -<p>“<i>Mr. Springer!</i>” she exclaimed, her head going up.</p> - -<p>“Excuse me,” he returned, in cutting, dry tone that recalled Tex. -Indeed, this westerner was a cowboy, the same as those who rode for -him, only a little older, and therefore more reserved and careful of -speech. “If it wasn’t that—then you sure were much taken with Mr. -Beady Jones.”</p> - -<p>“If that was anybody’s business it might have appeared so,” she -retorted, tingling all over with some feeling she could not control. -“He was a splendid dancer. He did not maul me like a bear. I really -had a chance to breathe during my dances with him. Then, too, he could -talk.”</p> - -<p>Springer bowed with dignity. His dark face paled. It dawned upon Jane -that there was something intense in the moment. She began to repent of -her hasty pride.</p> - -<p>“Thanks,” he said. “Please excuse my impertinence. I see you have -found your Mr. Frank Owens in this cowboy Jones, an’ it sure is not my -place to say any more.”</p> - -<p>“But—but—Mr.—Springer—” faltered Jane, quite unstrung by that amazing -speech. The rancher, however, bowed again and left her. Jane felt too -miserable and weary for anything but rest.</p> - -<p>About mid-afternoon Jane awakened greatly refreshed and relieved, and -strangely repentant. She dressed prettily and went out into the -courtyard, and naturally, as always, gravitated toward the corrals and -barns. Springer appeared, in company with a rancher Jane did not know. -She expected Springer to stop her for a few pleasant words as was his -wont. This time, however, he merely touched his sombrero and passed -on.</p> - -<p>Then she went on down the lane, very thoughtful. Jane’s sharp eyes -caught sight of the boys before they espied her. And when she looked -up again every lithe back was turned.</p> - -<p>She went back to her room, meaning to read or sew, or do school work. -But instead she cried.</p> - -<p>Next day was Sunday. Heretofore every Sunday had been a full day for -Jane. This one bade fair to be empty.</p> - -<p>Her attention was attracted by sight of a superb horseman riding up -the lane to the ranch-house. He seemed familiar, but she could not -place him. What a picture he made as he dismounted, slick and shiny, -booted and spurred, to doff his huge sombrero! Jane heard him ask for -Miss Stacey. Then she recognized him. Beady Jones! She was at once -horrified, and something else she could not name. She remembered now -he had asked if he might call Sunday and she had certainly not -refused. But for him to come after the fight with Tex and the bitter -scene with Springer! What manner of man was this cowboy Jones? He -certainly did not lack courage. But more to the point—what idea had he -of her? Jane rose to the occasion. She had let herself in for this, -and she would see it through. She would let Springer see she indeed -had taken Beady Jones for Mr. Frank Owens.</p> - -<p>To that end Jane made her way down the porch to greet her cowboy -visitor. She made herself charming and gracious, and carried off the -embarrassing situation—for Springer was present—as if it were -perfectly natural. And she led Jones to one of the rustic benches down -the porch.</p> - -<p>Manifest, indeed, was it that young Jones felt he had made a conquest. -He was the most forceful and bold person Jane had ever met. Soon he -waxed ardent. Jane was accustomed to the sentimental talk of cowboys, -but this fellow was neither amusing nor interesting. He was dangerous. -When Jane pulled her hand, by main force, free from his, and said she -was not accustomed to allow men such privileges, he grinned at her. -“Sure, sweetheart, you have missed a heap of fun,” he said. “An’ I -reckon I’ll have to break you in.”</p> - -<p>Jane could not feel insulted at this brazen lout, but she certainly -raged at herself. Her instant impulse was to excuse herself and -abruptly leave him. But Springer was close by. She had caught his -dark, wondering, covert glances. And the cowboys were at the other end -of the long porch. Jane feared another fight. She had brought this -upon herself, and she must stick it out. The ensuing hour was an -increasing torment. At last it seemed she could not bear the false -situation any longer. And when Jones again importuned her to meet him -out on horseback she stooped to deception to end the interview. She -really did not concentrate her attention on his plan or take stock of -what she agreed to, but she got rid of him with ease and dignity -before Springer. After that she did not have the courage to stay out -and face them. Jane stole off to the darkness and loneliness of her -room.</p> - -<div style='height:1em;'></div> -<p>The school teaching went on just the same, and the cowboys thawed out -and Springer returned somewhat to his kindliness, but Jane missed -something from her work and in them. At heart she grieved. Would it -ever be the same again?</p> - -<p>There came a day when Jane rode off alone towards the hills. She -forgot the risk and the admonitions of the cowboys. She wanted to be -alone to think. Her happiness had sustained a subtle change. Her work, -the children, the friends she had made, even the horse she loved, were -no longer all-sufficient. Something had come over her. It was late -fall, but the sun was warm that afternoon. Before her lay the valley -range, and beyond it the foothills rose, and above them loomed the -dark beckoning mountains.</p> - -<p>She rode fast until her horse was hot and she was out of breath. Then -she slowed down and for the first time she looked back toward the -ranch. It was a long way off—ten miles—a mere green spot in the gray. -And there was a horseman coming. As usual, some one of the cowboys had -observed her, let her think she had slipped away, and was now -following her. Today it angered Jane. She wanted to be alone. She -could take care of herself. And as was unusual with her, she used her -quirt on the horse. He broke into a gallop. She did not look back -again for a long time. When she did it was to discover that the -horseman had not only gained, but was now quite close to her. Jane -looked hard, but she could not recognize the rider. Once she imagined -it was Tex and again Andy.</p> - -<div id='i003' class='mt01 mb01 wi003'> - <img src='images/illus-002.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' /> -<p class='caption'>Jane looked hard, but she could not recognize the rider. Once she imagined it was Tex and again Andy. It did not make any difference.</p> -</div> -<p>Jane rode the longest and fastest race she had ever ridden. She -reached the low foothills and, without heeding the fact that she would -at once become lost, she entered the cedars and began to climb. At -times her horse had to walk and then she heard her pursuer breaking -through the cedars. He had to trail her by her horse’s tracks, and so -she was able to keep in the lead. It was not long until Jane realized -she was lost, but she did not care. She rode up and down and around -for an hour, until she was thoroughly tired out, and then up on top of -a foothill she reined in her horse and waited to give this pursuer a -piece of her mind.</p> - -<p>What was her amaze, when she heard a thud of hoofs and cracking of -branches in the opposite direction from which she expected her -pursuer, to see a rider emerge from the cedars and trot his horse -toward her. Jane needed only a second glance to recognize Beady Jones. -Suddenly she knew that he was not the pursuer she had been so angrily -aware of. Jones’ horse was white. That checked her mounting anger.</p> - -<p>Jones rode straight at her, and as he came close Jane saw his bold, -dark face and gleaming eyes. “Howdy, sweetheart,” sang out Jones, in -his cool devil-may-care way. “Reckon it took you a long time to meet -me as you promised.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t ride out to meet you, Mr. Jones,” replied Jane, spiritedly. -“I know I agreed to something or other, but even then I didn’t mean -it.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I had a hunch you was playin’ with me,” he returned, darkly.</p> - -<p>He reached out a long gloved hand and grasped her arm. “What do you -mean, sir?” demanded Jane, trying to wrench free.</p> - -<p>“Sure I mean a lot,” he said, grimly. “You stood for the love-makin’ -of that Springer outfit. Now you’re goin’ to get a taste of somethin’ -not so mushy.”</p> - -<p>“Let go of me—you—you ruffian!” cried Jane, struggling fiercely. She -was both furious and terrified.</p> - -<p>“Shucks! Your fightin’ will only make it interestin’. Come here, you -deceitful little cat.” And he lifted her out of her saddle over in -front of him. Jones’ horse, that had been frightened and plunging, ran -away into the cedars. Then Jones proceeded to embrace Jane. She -managed to keep her mouth from contact with his, but he kissed her -face and neck, kisses that seemed to pollute her.</p> - -<p>“Jane, I’m ridin’ out of this country for good,” he said. “An’ I’ve -just been waitin’ for this chance. You bet you’ll remember Beady -Jones.”</p> - -<p>Jane realized that Jones would stop at nothing. Frantically she fought -to get away from him, and to pitch herself to the ground. She -screamed. She beat and tore at him. She scratched his face till the -blood flowed. And as her struggles increased with her fright, she -gradually slipped down between him and the pommel of his saddle, with -head hanging down on one side and her feet on the other. This was -awkward and painful, but infinitely preferable to being crushed in his -arms. He was riding off with her as if she had been an empty sack. -Suddenly Jane’s hands, while trying to hold on to something to lessen -the severe jolt of her position, came in contact with Jones’ gun. Dare -she draw it and shoot him? Then all at once her ears filled with the -tearing gallop of another horse. Inverted as she was, she was able to -see and recognize Springer ride right at Jones and yell piercingly. -Next she felt Jones’ hard jerk at his gun. But, Jane had hold of it, -and suddenly she had her little hands like steel. The fierce energy -with which Jones wrestled to draw his gun threw Jane from the saddle. -And when she dropped clear of the horse the gun came with her.</p> - -<p>“Hands up, Beady!” she heard Springer call out, as she lay momentarily -face down in the dust. Then she struggled to her knees, and crawled to -get away from proximity to the horses. She still clung to the heavy -gun. And when, breathless and almost collapsing, she fell back on the -ground she saw Jones with his hands above his head and Springer on -foot with levelled gun.</p> - -<p>“Sit tight, cowboy,” ordered the rancher, in a hard tone. “It’ll take -mighty little to make me bore you.”</p> - -<p>Then, while still covering Jones, evidently ready for any sudden move, -Springer spoke again. “Jane, did you come out to meet this cowboy?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no! How can you ask that?” cried Jane, almost sobbing.</p> - -<p>“She’s a liar, boss,” spoke up Jones, coolly. “She let me make love to -her. An’ she agreed to ride out an’ meet me. Wal, it sure took her a -spell, an’ when she did come she was shy on the love-makin’. I was -packin’ her off to scare some sense into her when you rode in.”</p> - -<p>“Beady, I know your way with women. You can save your breath, for I’ve -a hunch you’re goin’ to need it.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Springer,” faltered Jane, getting to her knees. “I—I was -foolishly taken with this cowboy—at first. Then—that Sunday after the -dance when he called on me at the ranch—I saw through him then. I -heartily despised him. To get rid of him I did say I’d meet him. But I -never meant to. Then I forgot it. Today I rode for the first time. I -saw some one following me and thought it must be Tex or one of the -boys. Finally I waited and presently Jones rode up to me ... And Mr. -Springer he—he grabbed me off my horse—and handled me most -brutally—shamefully. I fought him with all my might, but what could I -do?”</p> - -<p>Springer’s face changed markedly during Jane’s long explanation. Then -he threw his gun on the ground in front of Jane. “Jones, I’m goin’ to -beat you half to death,” he said grimly, and, leaping at the cowboy, -he jerked him out of the saddle sprawling on the ground. Next Springer -threw aside his sombrero, his vest, his spurs. But he kept on his -gloves. The cowboy rose to one knee, and he measured the distance -between him and Springer, and then the gun on the ground. Suddenly he -sprang toward it. But Springer intercepted him with a powerful kick -that tripped Jones and laid him flat.</p> - -<p>“Jones, you’re sure about as low-down as they come,” he said, in dark -scorn. “I’ve got to be satisfied with beatin’ you when I ought to kill -you.”</p> - -<p>“Ahuh! Wal, boss, it ain’t any safe bet thet you can beat me,” -returned Jones, sullenly, as he got up. As they rushed together Jane -had wit enough to pick up the gun, and then with it and Jones’, to get -back to a safe distance. She wanted to run away out of sight. But she -could neither do that nor keep her fascinated gaze from the -combatants. Even in her distraught condition she could see that the -cowboy, fierce and active and strong as he was, could not hold his own -with Springer. They fought over all the open space, and crashed into -the cedars and out again. The time came when Jones was on the ground -as much as he was erect. Bloody, dishevelled, beaten, he kept on -trying to stem the onslaught of blows.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he broke off a dead branch of cedar, and brandishing it -rushed at the rancher. Jane uttered a cry, closed her eyes and sank -down. She heard fierce imprecations and sodden blows. When at length -she opened her eyes in terror, fearing something dreadful, she saw -Springer erect, wiping his face, and Jones lying prone on the ground.</p> - -<p>Then Jane saw him go to his horse, untie a canteen from the saddle, -remove his bloody gloves and wash his face with a wet scarf. Next he -poured some water on Jones’ face. “Come on, Jane,” he called. “Reckon -it’s all over.”</p> - -<p>He tied the bridle of Jones’ horse to a cedar, and leading his own -animal turned to meet Jane. “I want to compliment you on gettin’ that -cowboy’s gun,” he said, warmly. “But for that they’d sure have been -somethin’ bad. I’d have had to kill him, Jane.... Here, give me the -guns.... You poor little tenderfoot from Missouri. No, not tenderfoot -any longer. You became a westerner today.”</p> - -<p>His face was bruised and cut, his dress dirty and bloody, but he did -not appear the worse for that fight. Jane found her legs scarcely able -to support her, and she had apparently lost her voice. “Let me put you -on my saddle till we find your horse,” he said, and lifted her lightly -as a feather to a seat crosswise. Then he walked with a hand on the -bridle.</p> - -<p>Jane saw him examining the ground, evidently searching for horse -tracks. “Ha! here we are.” And he led off in another direction through -the cedars. Soon Jane espied her horse, calmly nibbling at the -bleached grass. In a few moments she was back in her own saddle, -beginning to recover somewhat from her distress. But she divined that -as fast as she recovered from one set of emotions she was going to be -tormented by another. “There’s a good cold spring down here in the -rocks,” remarked Springer. “I think you need a drink, an’ so do I.”</p> - -<p>They rode down the sunny cedar slopes, into a shady ravine, and up to -some mossy cliffs from which a spring gushed.</p> - -<p>Jane was now in the throes of thrilling, bewildering conjectures and -fears. Why had Springer followed her? Why had he not sent one of the -cowboys? Why did she feel so afraid and foolish? He had always been -courteous and kind and thoughtful, at least until she had offended so -egregiously. And here he was now. He had fought for her. Would she -ever forget? Her heart began to pound. And when he dismounted to take -her off her horse she knew it was to see a scarlet and tell-tale face, -“Mr. Springer, I—I thought you were Tex—or somebody,” she said.</p> - -<p>He laughed as he took off his sombrero. His face was warm, and the -cuts were still bleeeding a little. “You sure can ride,” he replied. -“And that’s a good little pony.”</p> - -<p>He loosened the cinches on the horses. “Won’t you walk around a -little? It’ll rest you. We are fifteen miles from home.”</p> - -<p>“So far?” Then presently he lifted her up and stood beside her with a -hand on her horse. He looked up frankly into her face. The keen eyes -were softer than usual. He seemed so fine and strong and splendid. She -was afraid of her eyes and looked away. “When the boys found you were -gone they all saddled up to find you,” he said. “But I asked them if -they didn’t think the boss ought to have one chance. So they let me -come.”</p> - -<p>Something terrible happened to Jane’s heart just then. She was -overwhelmed by a strange happiness that she must hide, but could not. -It seemed there was a long silence. She felt Springer there, but she -could not look at him. “Do you like it out here in the west?” he -asked, presently.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I love it! I’ll never want to leave it,” she replied, -impulsively.</p> - -<p>“I reckon I’m glad to hear that.” Then there fell another silence. He -pressed closer to her and seemed now to be leaning on the horse. She -wondered if he heard the weird knocking of her heart against her side.</p> - -<p>“Will you be my wife an’ stay here always?” he asked, simply. “I’m in -love with you. I’ve been lonely since my mother died.... You’ll sure -have to marry some one of us. Because, as Tex says, if you don’t, -ranchin’ can’t go on much longer. These boys don’t seem to get -anywhere with you. Have I any chance—Jane—?”</p> - -<p>He possessed himself of her gloved hand and gave her a gentle pull. -Jane knew it was gentle because she scarcely felt it. Yet it had -irresistible power. She was swayed by that gentle pull. She was -slipping sidewise in her saddle. She was sliding into his arms. A -little later he smiled up at her and said: “Jane, they call me Bill -for short. Same as they call me Boss. But my two front names are Frank -Owens.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” cried Jane, startled. “Then you—you—”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I’m the guilty one,” he replied happily. “It happened this way. -My bedroom, you know, is next to my office. I often heard the boys -poundin’ the typewriter. I had a hunch they were up to some trick. So -I spied upon them—heard about Frank Owens an’ the letters to the -little schoolmarm. At Beacon I got the postmistress to give me your -address. An’ of course I intercepted some of your letters. It sure has -turned out great.”</p> - -<p>“I—I don’t know about you or those terrible cowboys,” replied Jane, -dubiously. “How did <i>they</i> happen on the name Frank Owens?”</p> - -<p>“Sure that’s a stumper. I reckon they put a job up on me.”</p> - -<p>“Frank—tell me—did <i>you</i> write the—the love letters?” she asked, -appealingly. “There were two kinds of letters. That’s what I could -never understand.”</p> - -<p>“Jane, I reckon I did,” he confessed. “Somethin’ about your little -notes just won me. Does that make it all right?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Frank, I reckon it does,” she returned, leaning down to kiss -him.</p> - -<p>“Let’s ride back home an’ tell the boys,” said Springer, gayly. “The -joke’s sure on them. I’ve corralled the little schoolmarm from -Missouri.”</p> - -<div class='tn'> - <p style='text-indent:0'>Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in - the August 1926 issue of <i>McCalls</i> magazine.</p> -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM MISSOURI ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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