Justin Wingate, Ranchman

by John Harvey Whitson

  CHAPTER IV

  SIBYL

  One day there came, across the level lands, a wave of horsemen andhounds in a rabbit hunt, the baying of the dogs breaking sharply onthe peaceful calm of the valley. Justin rushed from the house when heheard the clamor. Clayton followed more slowly, and looked across thevalley from his doorway. The flutter of skirts told him that some ofthe saddles bore women. He frowned. This slaughter of rabbits wasparticularly distasteful to him, though he knew that the few farmerson the low land by the stream would welcome it, if the horses and dogsdid not cut up the cultivated fields.

  Big gray jack rabbits, routed from their coverts, were bobbing on inadvance of the baying hounds and galloping riders. More rabbits wereseen to start up, bouncing out of bunches of grass or scattered clumpsof sage. Following behind, driven at a lively gait, came a mule team,drawing a light spring wagon into which the slain rabbits were thrown.

  The extended line had advanced in a big semicircle; and the endsbending in, the chase drew on toward the solitary home of the solitarydoctor. Justin was filled with excitement. The lust of killing, whichseems to be in the racial blood, stirred strongly within him, and wasonly held in partial leash by certain teachings and admonitions wellhammered in by his instructor. Suddenly, quite carried away, he swunghis hat and yelled:

  "Mary is on one of those horses! See her, out there on the right side,on the white horse! She must have been at the station and joined themwhen they started."

  Clayton drew back from the doorway without a glance at the form ofMary Jasper borne onward with flying leaps. A rush of disgust shookhim, so that he did not care to look longer. But Justin remainedoutside, swinging his hat and whooping at intervals, quite taken outof himself.

  Then a louder clamor, and a cry from Justin, drew Clayton to the dooragain. One of the rabbits was approaching the house, springing on withindescribable swiftness, yet unable either by running or dodging toshake off the pursuit of the lithe-limbed, baying creatures that cleftthe air behind it. Two of the foremost of the hounds were in chase ofthis rabbit, one twenty yards in advance of the other. Pushed hard,the rabbit crouched and dodged again with such celerity that thehound, whose open mouth at the instant was almost closing on it, wasthrown headlong in a frantic effort to stop and turn as quickly as therabbit itself. The second hound rushed at it, and the change ofdirection flung the fleeing rabbit upon the bit of trampled grass infront of the open door in which Clayton stood.

  It saw the opening, and in desperation darted into it as into a cave,whisking past Clayton's legs. The hound came close after, yelpingfiendishly. With an exclamation that sounded like an oath, Claytonkicked at it; but the hound almost overthrew him, leaped into thehouse, and he heard the rabbit's death cry, and a crunching of bonesas the dog's ponderous jaws closed on its quivering body.

  Then Clayton heard a pounding of hoofs, and with eyes blazingwrathfully he looked up, and saw the original of the photograph whichhe had hurled into the fire and then had drawn out and treasured as ifhe could not bear to part with it. The blood receded from his face,leaving it livid and ghastly.

  "Sibyl!" he exclaimed.

  "The woman sitting there on her chafing horse staredback at him"]

  The woman drew up her horse in front of the door through which the doghad darted. She saw the man, and her clutch of the rein tightened.Clayton looked up at her, and, standing in the doorway, while the dog,having completed its bloody work panted out past him with furioushaste, he put his strong right hand against the side of the door, witha faltering motion, as if he felt the need of aid to sustain him fromfalling.

  The woman sitting there on her chafing horse stared back at him, whilethe clamor of the hounds broke over them. Her face had flushed morethan even the excitement of the chase warranted; yet he knew she wasmarvellously beautiful, as he looked at her full rounded throat andchin, at her olive cheeks in which dimples nestled, and into her greatdark eyes, that held now a surprised light. Her hair was as dark asher eyes, and even though much hidden beneath her riding hat, it wasstill a crown of glory. Clayton saw only enough of the blue ridinghabit to know that it became her; his eyes were drawn to her face.

  "Are you living here?" she asked in astonishment, giving a glance atthe small house.

  "Yes," he answered huskily. "I thought it as good a place as any, andout of the world; but it seems you found your way here. And Death cameriding with you, as usual."

  "Curtis, you're always ridiculous when you say foolish things! I'vebeen wondering where you were. You don't intend to return to Denver?"

  "No."

  "Not even if I wanted you to?"

  She looked at him with her fascinating unfathomable eyes, noting hismanly presence, his clear-cut dark features, and the stiff, awkwardleft arm. As she did so the color flamed back into his face.

  "No! Not unless--"

  "Unless I would consent to be as poky as you are!"

  "No, not that. I shouldn't expect you to take an interest in thethings I do. You never did, but I didn't care for that."

  He stopped as if in hesitation and stood trembling.

  "Well, I'm glad I've found where you're living. I suppose your postoffice address is the town over there by the side of the mountain,where the station is? I shall have something to send you by mail byand by."

  "Yes, my mail comes to the station post office."

  He still trembled and appeared to hesitate.

  "It's queer, how I happened to find you here, isn't it? I have anacquaintance in that little town, and she invited me down the otherday. Some other strangers to the place chanced to be there, and thisrabbit hunt was gotten up for our entertainment."

  "A queer form of entertainment!" he observed, with caustic emphasis.

  "To you I suppose it isn't anything short of murder?"

  "It's strange to me how any one can find pleasure in it."

  "I suppose that is as one looks at it. But I must be going. I don'tcare to have people see us talking too long together. I'm glad,though, that I found you."

  "Good bye!" he said, his lips bloodless again.

  She pulled her horse sharply about, and in another moment wasgalloping on in the hunt, leaving him standing in the doorway staringafter her. He stood thus until the clamor of the dogs sounded faintand she became a mere swaying speck, then he turned back into thehouse. Justin came in at his heels. He had seen the woman andrecognized the pictured face of the photograph.

  "Take the rabbit out and bury it somewhere, Justin," said Claytonwearily.

  Then he passed on into his study and closed the door behind him.

  A few days later the mail carrier brought him a Denver newspaper ofancient date with ink lines drawn round a divorce notice. The paperhad been sent to his address by Sibyl. Clayton read the marked noticecarefully, and thrusting the paper into the stove touched a lightedmatch to it.