Justin Wingate, Ranchman

by John Harvey Whitson

  CHAPTER I

  COWARDICE AND HEROISM

  Though Justin Wingate was no longer connected with the Davison ranchhe was not the less concerned when he beheld the sudden flare of flamenear the head of the canon and the cloud of smoke which now concealedit. A fire starting there in the tall grass and sedge might destroymuch of the Davison range, and would endanger the unharvested cropsand the homes of the valley farmers. Forest fires were ravaging themountains, and for days the air had been filled with a haze of smokethrough which the sun shone like a ball of copper. The drought of latesummer had made mountain and mesa a tinder box. Hence Justin turnedfrom the trail and rode rapidly toward the fire.

  There had been many changes in Paradise Valley; but except that it hadgrown more bitter with the passage of time, there had been none in theattitude of the farmers and cattlemen toward each other. WilliamSanders was still vindictively hostile to the people of the ranch, andthey disliked him with equal intensity of feeling. As for Justin, hehad developed rather than changed. He was stronger mentally andphysically, better poised, more self-reliant and resourceful. He hadcome to maturity.

  He was on his way to Borden's ranch, with some medicines for one ofClayton's patients there. The distance was long, and he had a pair ofblankets and a slicker tied together in a roll behind his saddle. LucyDavison was in the town, making a call on an acquaintance, and he wasjourneying by the valley trail, hoping to meet her, or see her, as hepassed that way. But thoughts of Lucy fled when he saw that fire. Ashe rode toward it and passed through the strong gate into the fencedland, he wondered uneasily if any plum gatherers were in the sand-plumthickets by the canon.

  Justin had not proceeded far when he heard a pounding of hoofs, andlooking back he beheld Steve Harkness riding toward him at top speed.He drew rein to let Harkness approach.

  "Seen Pearl and Helen anywhere?" Harkness bellowed at him.

  Helen was the child of Steve and Pearl Harkness, and was now nearlytwo years old.

  "No," said Justin, thinking of the plum bushes. "Are they out thisway?"

  "I dunno where they air; but they said at the house Pearl come thisway with Helen. That was more'n an hour ago. They was on horseback,she carryin' Helen in front of her; and she had a tin bucket. So shemust have been goin' after plums. That fire made me worried about'em."

  He rode on toward the plum bushes, and Justin followed him, throughthe smoke that now filled the air and obscured the sun. Harkness'shorse was the speedier, and he disappeared quickly. As he vanished,Ben Davison dashed out of the smoke and rode across the mesa. In theroar and crackle of the fire Justin heard Harkness shout at Ben, buthe could not distinguish the words. Justin called to Ben, repeatingwhat he believed had been Harkness's question, asking if he had seenPearl and Helen; but Ben did not hear him, or did not wish to answer.He rode right on, as if frightened. And indeed that fire, whichpursued him even as he fled, was not a thing to be regarded lightly.Yet Justin wondered at Ben's action, his wonder changing tobewilderment when he saw that a woman's saddle was on the horse Benrode.

  A horrible suspicion was forced upon him. He knew that Ben haddeteriorated; had become little better than a loafer about the storesof the little town, consorting with Clem Arkwright and kindredspirits. Arkwright had also changed for the worse. He had lost hisposition as justice-of-the-peace, and was now often seedy and muchgiven to drinking. He was said to be an inveterate gambler, gaining anuncertain livelihood by the gambler's arts. Ben Davison was neverseedy. Whether he obtained his money from Davison or secured it inother ways Justin did not know, but Ben was always well dressed andhad an air of prosperity.

  Ben was again the candidate of the ranch interests for thelegislature. Lemuel Fogg, also representing the ranch interests, hadsecured for himself a nomination to the state senate; for whichpurpose he had become temporarily a resident of the town of Cliveden,some miles away, where he had established a branch of his Denverstore.

  Justin's desire for justice made him put aside the conclusion almostinevitably forced upon him by that sight of Ben Davison riding wildlyaway from the fire in a woman's saddle.

  Following Harkness toward the plum thickets, where the roar of thefire was loudest, he heard a woman's scream. It was off at one side,away from the fire. Justin pulled his horse about and galloped towardthe fire through the pall of smoke. In a few moments he beheld theplump form of Pearl Harkness. Helen was not with her. Seeing Justin,she ran toward him, screaming frantically.

  "Helen! Helen!"

  Justin stopped his horse.

  "What is it? Where is she?"

  "Oh, I don't know, I don't know! I've lost her! She was right here awhile ago. The fire started, and I left her to get the horse; but thehorse was gone, and when I tried to find her I couldn't, the smoke wasso thick. I must have got turned round." She started on again, wildly."Helen! Helen!"

  "Can you stay here just a minute? I'll find her, and I'll bring her toyou. Stay right here. The fire can't get here for at least tenminutes. Stay right here."

  He feared to leave her, yet felt that he must if he hoped to save thechild. Pearl Harkness seemed not to hear him. Calling the name of herchild she ran on, in an agony of apprehension, choking and gasping.Lifted high above her by his horse, Justin found breathing difficult.His mind was in a puzzled whirl, when he heard the fog-horn bellow ofHarkness's heavy voice. Pearl heard it also, and ran toward Harknesswith hysterical cries. Justin rode after her. Harkness appeared out ofthe smoke like a spectre, his horse at a dead run. When he saw Pearlhe drew rein and jumped to the ground.

  "Helen! Helen!" she screamed at him, stretching out her hands.

  Then, before either Harkness or Justin could reach her, she pitchedforward, overcome by excitement and the thick smoke. Harkness liftedher in his strong arms, clinging to his bridle rein as he did so. Thebronchos were snorting and uneasy.

  "I've got to git her out of here," said Harkness, with tendersolicitude. "Where's Helen?"

  "She must be right here somewhere; over that way, your wife said. I'llfind her."

  Harkness glared at the smoke.

  "Yes, find her, and find her quick! That fire will be right on top ofthis place in another minute."

  He swung Pearl toward the saddle. Justin assisted him to hoist theheavy woman to the back of the horse, and held her there while hemounted. Harkness took the limp form in his arms.

  "We ain't got any time to lose!" he gasped. "Find Helen! For God'ssake, save Helen! It will kill Pearl, and me too, if you don't. Thefire is right here. For God's sake, save her; I know you'll do it ifanybody can."

  Justin was in the saddle.

  "Save your wife!" he cried. "Save your wife! I'll find Helen! I'llfind her!"

  "You've got to find her! Don't stop till you find her! I reckon I'dbetter help you look for her."

  He could not abandon Helen; and holding his wife in his arms he rodetoward the fire.

  "Save your wife!" Justin shouted to him.

  He was already moving off, forcing the broncho toward the point wherethe smoke lay heaviest. Again he shouted to Harkness, begging him tosave his wife. Then a moving wall of smoke swept between them.

  "Helen! Helen!" Justin began to call, circling swiftly about the spotwhere Pearl Harkness believed she had left her child.

  The heat and smoke were becoming unbearable.

  "I must find her!" was his thought, as he recalled Pearl's hystericalscreams and the anguished face of Steve Harkness.

  Then, as if in a fire-framed picture, he saw her, well up toward thehead of the canon, whither she had fled in a panic of fright. Thestrong upward pull of the heated air, lifting the smoke for aninstant, revealed her, clad in her short dress of striped calico, heryellow head bare.

  As the flames flared thus on high, their angry red blending andtangling with the thick black smoke on the rim of the canon, Justin'sbroncho became almost unmanageable. He struck it now, pounding hisfist against its body, kicking it mercilessly, and jerking like amadman at the sharp bit. Fighting with the s
cared broncho, he drove ittoward the child.

  She heard him call to her; and seeing him, she began to run towardhim. She stumbled and fell, and rose crying. Her small face wassmeared with soot and tears, with charred plum leaves and with sand.All about her, as the flames and the smoke lifted and fell under theforce of the wind, flakes of soot, plum leaves, and burning grass,floated and flew. It was a wonder to Justin that her striped dress wasnot already ablaze. In a few moments he was at her side.

  "I want my mamma!" she wailed, as he leaped down by her. "Where is mymamma?"

  She pushed back the tangle of yellow hair that the wind tumbled intoher face, and coughed violently. Her chubby hands were stained withtears and soot. She doubled one of them and gouged it into her eyes.

  "I want my mamma!"

  "I will take you to her," Justin promised, as he tore the blankets andslicker from behind the saddle.

  One of the blankets he wrapped about her; the other he threw over hisshoulders and secured in place with a pin. The slicker he cast away,fearing its coating of oil would make it inflammable. Having donethis, he clambered into the saddle, with the child in his arms.

  But the fire had been as busy. A long red prong thrown in thedirection of the ranch buildings had widened and was drawing backtoward the canon. It lapped across the open grassy space toward whichhe rode before he could gallop a dozen rods, thus hemming them in.

  As Justin dashed furiously at this wall of flame, he drew the hood ofthe blanket well over his head; and while still holding the childclosely wrapped, and clinging to the rein, he sought protection forhis hands in the folds of the blanket. There was no protection for thehorse. Yet he drove it to the plunge, which it took with blind andmaddened energy.

  The fire flashed about him and roared like a furnace. The flesh of hishands and face cried out in pain and seemed to crisp under the lash ofthat whip of flame. Giddy and reeling, he set his teeth hard andgouged his booted heels furiously into the broncho's flanks. Theblanket seemed to be burning about his head.

  For a few brief moments after that he was but half conscious; then hefelt the broncho fall under him, and was pitched from the saddle. Hestaggered to his feet, still holding the child. His blanket had beentorn aside by the fall; and he saw that he had broken through thecordon of flame, and that the fire was behind him. The broncho layquivering where it had dropped, having run to the last gasp. He couldnot have recognized it. Its hair was burnt off, and blood gushed fromits nostrils.

  Helen seemed to be uninjured, though she cried lustily. Still resolvedto save her from the fire, Justin began to stagger with her across theunburned grass. As he did so he heard a shout, followed by gallopinghoofs. He saw the horsemen dimly as they rode toward him, and he ranin their direction. As he thus ran on he fell.

  When he came to himself he was on a horse in front of some one whoclasped him firmly about the body. Horses' feet were rustling noisilyover the grass. The sky was black with smoke; its taste was in hismouth, it cut his lungs and pinched his quivering nostrils. His faceand eyes; his hands, his whole body, throbbed with the smarting painof fire.

  "You're still all right, air ye?"

  It was the voice of Dicky Carroll, one of the cowboys.

  It was Dicky's arms that held him, and he was on Dicky's horse. Hedrew himself up, looked about, and saw Steve Harkness galloping atDicky's side with Helen in his arms.

  "He's got to be made all right if he ain't," he heard Harkness shout."He's too gamy to be let die!"