CHAPTER IX
THE DANGER LINE
Though Champ Lee had business in Mesa next day that would not be denied,he was singularly loath to leave the ranch. He wanted to stay close toMelissy until the denouement of the hunt for the stage robber. On theother hand, it was well known that his contest with Morse for the MonteCristo was up for a hearing. To stay at home would have been a confessionof his anxiety that he did not want to make. But it was only afterrepeated charges to his daughter to call him up by telephone immediatelyif anything happened that he could bring himself to ride away.
He was scarcely out of sight when a Mexican vaquero rode in with theinformation that old Antonio, on his way to the post at Three Pines with asecond drove of sheep, had twisted his ankle badly about fifteen milesfrom the ranch. After trying in vain to pick up a herder at Mesa bytelephone, Melissy was driven to the only feasible course left her, tomake the drive herself in place of Antonio. There were fifteen hundredsheep in the bunch, and they must be taken care of at once by somebodycompetent for the task. She knew she could handle them, for it had amusedher to take charge of a herd often for an hour or two at a time. The longstretch over the desert would be wearisome and monotonous, but she had theslim, muscular tenacity of a half-grown boy. It did not matter what shewanted to do. The thing to which she came back always was that the sheepmust be taken care of.
She left directions with Jim for taking care of the place, changed to akhaki skirt and jacket, slapped a saddle on her bronco, and disappearedacross country among the undulations of the sandhills. A tenderfoot wouldhave been hopelessly lost in the sameness of these hills and washes, butMelissy knew them as a city dweller does his streets. Straight as an arrowshe went to her mark. The tinkle of distant sheep-bells greeted her aftersome hours' travel, and soon the low, ceaseless bleating of the herd.
The girl found Antonio propped against a pinon tree, solacing himselfphilosophically with cigarettes. He was surprised to see her, but madeonly a slight objection to her taking his place. His ankle was paining hima good deal, and he was very glad to get the chance to pull himself to hersaddle and ride back to the ranch.
A few quick words sent the dog Colin out among the sheep, by nowscattered far and wide over the hill. They presently came pouring towardher, diverged westward, and massed at the base of a butte rising from adry arroyo. The journey had begun, and hour after hour it continuedthrough the hot day, always in a cloud of dust flung up by the sheep,sometimes through the heavy sand of a wash, often over slopes of shale,not seldom through thick cactus beds that shredded her skirt and tore likefierce, sharp fingers at her legging-protected ankles. The great graydesert still stretched before her to the horizon's edge, and still sheflung the miles behind her with the long, rhythmic stride that was herbirthright from the hills. A strong man, unused to it, would have beenstaggering with stiff fatigue, but this slender girl held the trail withlight grace, her weight still carried springily on her small ankles.
Once she rested for a few minutes, flinging herself down into the sand atlength, her head thrown back from the full brown throat so that she couldgaze into the unstained sky of blue. Presently the claims of this planetmade themselves heard, for she, too, was elemental and a creature ofinstinct. The earth was awake and palpitating with life, the low,indefatigable life of creeping things and vegetation persisting even inthis waste of rock and sand.
But she could not rest long, for Diablo canyon must be reached before dark.The sheep would be very thirsty by the time they arrived, and she couldnot risk letting them tear down the precipitous edge among the sharp rocksin the dark. Already over the sand stretches a peculiar liquid glow wasflooding, so that the whole desert seemed afire. The burning sun hadslipped behind a saddle of the purple peaks, leaving a brilliant horizonof many mingled shades.
It was as she came forward to the canyon's edge in this luminous dusk thatMelissy became aware of a distant figure on horseback, silhouetted for amoment against the skyline. One glance was all she got of it, for she wasvery busy with the sheep, working them leisurely toward the black chasmthat seemed to yawn for them. High rock walls girt the canyon, gigantic andbottomless in the gloom. A dizzy trail zigzagged back and forth to thepool below, and along this she and the collie skilfully sent the eager,thirsty animals.
The mass of the sheep were still huddled on the edge of the ravine whenthere came the thud of horses' hoofs and the crack of revolvers,accompanied by hoarse, triumphant yells and cries. Melissy knew instantlywhat it was--the attack of cattlemen upon her defenseless flock. They hadwaited until the sheep were on the edge of the precipice, and now theywere going to drive the poor creatures down upon the rocks two hundredfeet below. Her heart leaped to her throat, but scarce more quickly thanshe upon a huge boulder bordering the trail.
"Back! Keep back!" she heard herself crying, and even as she spoke abullet whistled through the rim of her felt hat.
Standing there boldly, unconscious of danger, the wind draped and definedthe long lines of her figure like those of the Winged Victory.
The foremost rider galloped past, waving his sombrero and shooting intothe frightened mass in front of him. Within a dozen feet of her he turnedhis revolver upon the girl, then, with an oath of recognition, dragged hispony back upon its haunches. Another horse slithered into it, and athird.
"It's 'Lissie Lee!" a voice cried in astonishment; and another, with astartled oath, "You're right, Bob!"
The first rider gave his pony the spur, swung it from the trail in ahalf-circle which brought it back at the very edge of the ravine, andblocked the forward pour of terror-stricken sheep. Twice his revolver rangout. The girl's heart stood still, for the man was Norris, and it seemedfor an instant as if he must be swept over the precipice by the stampede.The leaders braced themselves to stop, but were slowly pushed forwardtoward the edge. One of the other riders had by this time joined thedaring cowpuncher, and together they stemmed the tide. The pressure on thetrail relaxed and the sheep began to mill around and around.
It was many minutes before they were sufficiently quieted to trust uponthe trail again, but at last the men got them safely to the bottom, withthe exception of two or three killed in the descent.
Her responsibility for the safety of the sheep gone, the girl began tocrawl down the dark trail. She could not see a yard in front of her, andat each step the path seemed to end in a gulf of darkness. She could notbe sure she was on the trail at all, and her nerve was shaken by theexperience through which she had just passed. Presently she stopped andwaited, for the first time in her life definitely and physically afraid.She stood there trembling, a long, long time it seemed to her, surroundedby the impenetrable blackness of night.
Then a voice came to her.
"Melissy!"
She answered, and the voice came slowly nearer.
"You're off the trail," it told her presently, just before a human figuredefined itself in the gloom.
"I'm afraid," she sobbed.
A strong hand came from nowhere and caught hers. An arm slipped around herwaist.
"Don't be afraid, little girl. I'll see no harm comes to you," the mansaid to her with a quick, fierce tenderness.
The comfort of his support was unspeakable. It stole into her heart likewater to the roots of thirsty plants. To feel her head against hisshoulder, to know he held her tight, meant safety and life. He had toldher not to be afraid, and she was so no longer.
"You shot at me," she murmured in reproach.
"I didn't know. We thought it was Bellamy's herd. But it's true, Godforgive me! I did."
There was in his voice the warm throb of emotion, and in his eyessomething she had never seen before in those of any human being. Likestars they were, swimming in light, glowing with the exultation of thetriumph he was living. She was a splendid young animal, untaught of life,generous, passionate, tempestuous, and as her pliant, supple body layagainst his some sex instinct old as creation stirred potently within her.She had found her mate. It came to her as innocently as th
e same impulsecomes to the doe when the spring freshets are seeking the river, and asinnocently her lips met his in their first kiss of surrender. Somethingirradiated her, softened her, warmed her. Was it love? She did not know,but as yet she was still happy in the glow of it.
Slowly, hand in hand, they worked back to the trail and down it to thebottom of the canyon. The soft velvet night enwrapped them. It shut themfrom the world and left them one to one. From the meeting palms strangeelectric currents tingled through the girl and flushed her to an ecstasyof emotion.
A camp fire was already burning cheerfully when they reached the base ofthe descent. A man came forward to meet them. He glanced curiously at thegirl after she came within the circle of light. Her eyes were shining asfrom some inner glow, and she was warm with a soft color that vitalizedher beauty. Then his gaze passed to take in with narrowed lids hercompanion.
"I see you found her," he said dryly.
"Yes, I found her, Bob."
He answered the spirit of Farnum's words rather than the letter of them,nor could he keep out of his bearing and his handsome face the exultationthat betrayed success.
"H'mp!" Farnum turned from him and addressed the girl: "I suppose Norrishas explained our mistake and eaten crow for all of us, Miss Lee. I don'tsee how come we to make such a blame' fool mistake. It was gitting dark,and we took your skirt for a greaser's blanket. It's ce'tainly on us."
"Yes, he has explained."
"Well, there won't any amount of explaining square the thing. We might 'a'done you a terrible injury, Miss Lee. It was gilt-edged luck for us thatyou thought to jump on that rock and holler."
"I was thinking of the sheep," she said.
"Well, you saved them, and I'm right glad of it. We ain't got any use forMary's little trotter, but your father's square about his. He keeps themherded up on his own range. We may not like it, but we ce'tainly aren'tgoing to the length of attackin' his herd." Farnum's gaze took in herslender girlishness, and he voiced the question in his mind. "How in timedo you happen to be sheep-herding all by your lone a thousand miles fromnowhere, Miss Lee?"
She explained the circumstances after she had moved forward to warmherself by the fire. For already night was bringing a chill breeze withit. The man cooking the coffee looked up and nodded pleasantly, continuinghis work. Norris dragged up a couple of saddle blankets and spread them onthe ground for her to sit upon.
"You don't have to do a thing but boss this outfit," he told her with hisgay smile. "You're queen of the range to-night, and we're your herders oryour punchers, whichever you want to call us. To-morrow morning two of usare going to drive these sheep on to the trading post for you, and theother one is going to see you safe back home. It's all arranged."
They were as good as his word. She could not move from her place to helpherself. It was their pleasure to wait upon her as if she had really beena queen and they her subjects. Melissy was very tired, but she enjoyedtheir deference greatly. She was still young enough to find delight in thefact that three young and more or less good-looking men were vying witheach other to anticipate her needs.
Like them, she ate and drank ravenously of the sandwiches and the strongcoffee, though before the meal was over she found herself noddingdrowsily. The tactful courtesy of these rough fellows was perfect. Theygot the best they had for her of their blankets, dragged a pinon root tofeed the glowing coals, and with cheerful farewells of "_Buenos Noches_"retired around a bend in the canyon and lit another fire for themselves.
The girl snuggled down into the warmth of the blankets and stretched herweary limbs in delicious rest. She did not mean to go to sleep for a longtime. She had much to think about. So she looked up the black sheer canyonwalls to the deep blue, starry sky above, and relived her day in memory.
A strange excitement tingled through her, born of shame and shyness andfear, and of something else she did not understand, something which hadlain banked in her nature like a fire since childhood and now threw forthits first flame of heat. What did it mean, that passionate fierceness withwhich her lips had clung to his? She liked him, of course, but surelyliking would not explain the pulse that her first kiss had sent leapingthrough her blood like wine. Did she love him?
Then why did she distrust him? Why was there fear in her sober secondthought of him? Had she done wrong? For the moment all her maiden defenseshad been wiped out and he had ridden roughshod over her reserves. Butsomewhere in her a bell of warning was ringing. The poignant sting of sexappeal had come home to her for the first time. Wherefore in this frankchild of the wilderness had been born a shy shame, a vague trembling forherself that marked a change. At sunrise she had been still treading gaylythe primrose path of childhood; at sunset she had entered upon herheritage of womanhood.
The sun had climbed high and was peering down the walls of the gulch whenshe awoke. She did not at once realize where she was, but came presentlyto a blinking consciousness of her surroundings. The rock wall on one sidewas still shadowed, while the painted side of the other was warm with thelight which poured upon it. The Gothic spires, the Moorish domes, theweird and mysterious caves, which last night had given more than a touchof awe to her majestic bedchamber, now looked a good deal less like theruins of mediaeval castles and the homes of elfin sprites and gnomes.
"_Buenos dios, muchacha,_" a voice called cheerfully to her.
She did not need to turn to know to whom it belonged. Among a thousand shewould have recognized its tone of vibrant warmth.
"_Buenos,_" she answered, and, rising hurriedly, she fled to rearrange herhair and dress.
It was nearly a quarter of an hour later that she reappeared, her thickcoils of ebon-hued tresses shining in the sun, her skirt smoothed to hersatisfaction, and the effects of feminine touches otherwise visible uponher fresh, cool person.
"Breakfast is served," Norris sang out.
"Dinner would be nearer it," she laughed. "Why in the world didn't youboys waken me? What time is it, anyhow?"
"It's not very late--a little past noon maybe. You were all tired out withyour tramp yesterday. I didn't see why you shouldn't have your sleepout."
He was pouring a cup of black coffee for her from the smoky pot, and shelooked around expectantly for the others. Simultaneously she rememberedthat she had not heard the bleating of the sheep.
"Where are the others--Mr. Farnum and Sam? And have you the sheep allgagged?" she laughed.
He gave her that odd look of smoldering eyes behind half-shut lids.
"The boys have gone on to finish the drive for you. They started beforesun-up this morning. I'm elected to see you back home safely."
"But----"
Her protest died unspoken. She could not very well frame it in words, andbefore his bold, possessive eyes the girl's long, dark lashes wavered tothe cheeks into which the hot blood was beating. Nevertheless, the feelingexisted that she wished one of the others had stayed instead of him. Itwas born, no doubt, partly of the wave of shyness running through her,but partly too of instinctive maidenly resistance to something in hislook, in the assurance of his manner, that seemed to claim too much. Lastnight he had taken her by storm and at advantage. Something of shamestirred in her that he had found her so easy a conquest, something too ofa new vague fear of herself. She resented the fact that he could so moveher, even though she still felt the charm of his personal presence. Shemeant to hold herself in abeyance, to make sure of herself and of himbefore she went further.
But the cowpuncher had no intention of letting her regain so fully controlof her emotions. Experience of more than one young woman had taught himthat scruples were likely to assert themselves after reflection, and hepurposed giving her no time for that to-day.
He did not count in vain upon the intimacy of companionship forced uponthem by the circumstances, nor upon the skill with which he knew how tomake the most of his manifold attractions. His role was that of thecomrade, gay with good spirits and warm with friendliness, solicitous ofher needs, but not oppressively so. If her glimp
se of him at breakfast hadgiven the girl a vague alarm, she laughed her fears away later before hisopen good humor.
There had been a time when he had been a part of that big world "back inthe States," peopled so generously by her unfettered imagination. He knewhow to talk, and entertainingly, of books and people, of events andplaces he had known. She had not knowledge enough of life to doubt hisstories, nor did she resent it that he spoke of this her native sectionwith the slighting manner of one who patronized it with his presence.Though she loved passionately her Arizona, she guessed its crudeness, andher fancy magnified the wonders of that southern civilization from whichit was so far cut off.
Farnum had left his horse for the girl, and after breakfast the cowpunchersaddled the broncos and brought them up. Melissy had washed the dishes,filled his canteen, and packed the saddle bags. Soon they were off,climbing slowly the trail that led up the canyon wall. She saw the carcassof a dead sheep lying on the rocks half way down the cliff, and had spokenof it before she could stop herself.
"What is that? Isn't it----?"
"Looks to me like a boulder," lied her escort unblushingly. There was nouse, he judged, in recalling unpleasant memories.
Nor did she long remember. The dry, exhilarating sunshine and the sting ofgentle, wide-swept breezes, the pleasure of swift motion and the ring ofthat exultingly boyish voice beside her, combined to call the youth in herto rejoice. Firm in the saddle she rode, as graceful a picture of piquantgirlhood as could be conceived, thrilling to the silent voices of thedesert. They traveled in a sunlit sea of space, under a sky of blue, inwhich tenuous cloud lakes floated. Once they came on a small bunch of hillcattle which went flying like deer into the covert of a draw. Arattlesnake above a prairie dog's hole slid into the mesquit. A swiftwatched them from the top of a smooth rock, motionless so long as theycould see. She loved it all, this immense, deserted world of space filledwith its multitudinous dwellers.
They unsaddled at Dead Cow Creek, hobbled the ponies, and ate supper.Norris seemed in no hurry to resaddle. He lay stretched carelessly at fulllength, his eyes upon her with veiled admiration. She sat upright, hergaze on the sunset with its splashes of topaz and crimson and saffron,watching the tints soften and mellow as dusk fell. Every minute nowbrought its swift quota of changing beauty. A violet haze enveloped thepurple mountains, and in the crotch of the hills swam a lake of indigo.The raw, untempered glare of the sun was giving place to a limitless pourof silvery moonlight.
Her eyes were full of the soft loveliness of the hour when she turned themupon her companion. He answered promptly her unspoken question.
"You bet it is! A night for the gods--or for lovers."
He said it in a murmur, his eyes full on hers, and his look wrenched herfrom her mood. The mask of comradeship was gone. He looked at herhungrily, as might a lover to whom all spiritual heights were denied.
Her sooty lashes fell before this sinister spirit she had evoked, but wereraised instantly at the sound of him drawing his body toward her.Inevitably there was a good deal of the young animal in her superblyhealthy body. She had been close to nature all day, the riotous passion ofspring flowing free in her as in the warm earth herself. But the magic ofthe mystic hills had lifted her beyond the merely personal. Some sense ofgrossness in him for the first time seared across her brain. She startedup, and her face told him she had taken alarm.
"We must be going," she cried.
He got to his feet. "No hurry, sweetheart."
The look in his face startled her. It was new to her in her experience ofmen. Never before had she met elemental lust.
"You're near enough," she cautioned sharply.
He cursed softly his maladroitness.
"I was nearer last night, honey," he reminded her.
"Last night isn't to-night."
He hesitated. Should he rush her defenses, bury her protests in kisses? Orshould he talk her out of this harsh mood? Last night she had been his.There were moments during the day when she had responded to him as amusical instrument does to skilled fingers. But for the moment his powerover her was gone. And he was impatient of delay.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked roughly.
"We'll start at once."
"No."
"Yes."
Frightened though she was, her gaze held steadily to his. It was the sameinstinct in her that makes one look a dangerous wild beast straight in theeye.
"What's got into you?" he demanded sullenly.
"I'm going home."
"After a while."
"Now."
"I reckon not just yet. It's my say-so."
"Don't you dare stop me."
The passion in him warred with prudence. He temporized. "Why, honey! I'mthe man that loves you."
She would not see his outstretched hands.
"Then saddle my horse."
"By God, no! You're going to listen to me."
His anger ripped out unexpectedly, even to him. Whatever fear she felt,the girl crushed down. He must not know her heart was drowned in terror.
"I'll listen after we've started."
He cursed her fickleness. "What's ailin' you, girl? I ain't a man to beput off this way."
"Don't forget you're in Arizona," she warned.
He understood what she meant. In the ranch country no man could withimpunity insult a woman.
Standing defiantly before him, her pliant form very straight, theunderlying blood beating softly under the golden brown of her cheeks, oneof the thick braids of her heavy, blue-black hair falling across thebreast that rose and fell a little fast, she was no less than a challengeof Nature to him. He looked into a mobile face as daring and as passionateas his own, warm with the life of innocent youth, and the dark bloodmantled his face.
"Saddle the horses," she commanded.
"When I get good and ready."
"Now."
"No, ma'am. We're going to have a talk first."
She walked across to the place where her pony grazed, slipped on thebridle, and brought the animal back to the saddle. Norris watched herfitting the blankets and tightening the cinch without a word, his facegrowing blacker every moment. Before she could start he strode forward andcaught the rein.
"I've got something to say to you," he told her rudely. "You're not goingnow. So that's all about it."
Her lips tightened. "Let go of my horse."
"We'll talk first."
"Do you think you can force me to stay here?"
"You're going to hear what I've got to say."
"You bully!"
"I'll tell what I know--Miss Hold-up."
"Tell it!" she cried.
He laughed harshly, his narrowed eyes watching her closely. "If you throwme down now, I'll ce'tainly tell it. Be reasonable, girl."
"Let go my rein!"
"I've had enough of this. Tumble off that horse, or I'll pull you off."
Her dark eyes flashed scorn of him. "You coward! Do you think I'm afraidof you? Stand back!"
The man looked long at her, his teeth set; then caught at her stronglittle wrist. With a quick wrench she freed it, her eyes glowing like livecoals.
"You dare!" she panted.
Her quirt rose and fell, the lash burning his wrist like a band of fire.With a furious oath he dropped his hand from the rein. Like a flash shewas off, had dug her heels home, and was galloping into the moonlightrecklessly as fast as she could send forward her pony. Stark terror hadher by the throat. The fear of him flooded her whole being. Not till thedrumming hoofs had carried her far did other emotions move her.
She was furious with him, and with herself for having been imposed upon byhim. His beauty, his grace, his debonair manner--they were all hateful toher now. She had thought him a god among men, and he was of common clay.It was her vanity that was wounded, not her heart. She scourged herselfbecause she had been so easily deceived, because she had let herselfbecome a victim of his good looks and his impudence. For that she had lethim kiss her--yes, and had returned his
kiss--she was heartilycontemptuous of herself. Always she had held herself with an instinctivepride, but in her passion of abandonment the tears confessed now that thispride had been humbled to the dust.
This gusty weather of the spirit, now of chastened pride and now of bitteranger, carried her even through the group of live-oaks which looked downupon the silent houses of the ranch, lying in a sea of splendid moon-beat.She was so much less confident of herself than usual that she made up hermind to tell her father the whole story of the hold-up and of what thisman had threatened.
This resolution comforted her, and it was with something approachingcalmness that she rode past the corral fence and swung from the saddle infront of the house.
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