Overland Red: A Romance of the Moonstone Cañon Trail

by Henry Herbert Knibbs

  CHAPTER XVII

  GUESTS

  A month had passed since the rescue of the blunder colt. The air waswarm and clear, the sky intensely blue. Moonstone Canon grew fragrantwith budding flowers. The little lizards came from their winter crevicesand clung to the sun-warmed stones. A covey of young quail flutteredalong the hillside under the stately surveillance of the mother bird.Wild cats prowled boldly on the southern slopes. Cotton-tails huddledbeneath the greasewood brush and nibbled at the grasses. The canonstream ran clear again now that the storm-washed silt had settled. Onthe peaks the high winds were cold and cutting, but on the slopes and inthe valleys the earth was moist and warm.

  Louise, humming a song, rode slowly along the Moonstone Canon Trail. Atthe "double turn" in the canon, where dwelt Echo and her myrmidons,Louise rode more slowly.

  "Dreaming Fance, the cobbler's son, took his tools and laces, Wrought her shoes of scarlet dye, shoes as pale as snow. They shall lead her wild-rose feet all the faery paces, Danced along the road of love, the road such feet should go."

  She sang slowly, pausing after each line that the echoes might not blur.

  "Danced along ... along ... the road ... of love, the road ... oflove ... of love," sang the echoes.

  Louise smiled dreamily. Then the clatter of Boyar's shod hoofs rang andreechoed, finally to hush in the gravel of the ford beyond.

  Why Louise thought of Collie just then, it would be difficult toimagine. Still, she had, ever since his night's vigil with the blundercolt, caught herself noting little details associated with him and hiswork. He brushed his teeth. Not all of the other men did. He did notchew tobacco. Despite his lack of early training, he was naturally neat.He disliked filth instinctively. His bits, spurs, and trappings shone.He had learned to shoe his string of ponies--an art that is fastbecoming lost among present-day cowmen. With little comment but faithfulzeal he copied Brand Williams. This, of course, flattered the taciturncowman, who unobtrusively arranged Collie's work so that it might bringthe younger man before the notice of Walter Stone, and incidentallyLouise. Of course, Louise was not aware of this.

  The girl no longer sang as she rode, but dreamed, with unseeing eyes onthe trail ahead--dreamed such dreams as one may put aside easily until,perchance, the dream converges toward reality which cannot be so lightlyput aside.

  Brand Williams had his own ideas of romance; ideas pretty well submergedin the deeps of hardy experience, but existing, nevertheless, and asimmovable as the bed of the sea. He badgered Collie whenever he chancedto have seen him with the Rose Girl, and smiling inwardly at the youngman's indignation, he would straightway arrange that Collie should rideto town, for, say, a few pounds of staples wanted in a hurry, when heknew that the buckboard would be going to town on the morrow, and alsothat there were plenty of staples in the storeroom.

  Something of the kind was afoot, or rather a-saddle, as Louise rode downthe Moonstone Trail, for beyond the turn and the rippling ford she saw alithe, blue-shirted figure that she knew.

  Louise would not have admitted even to herself that she urged Boyar.Nevertheless the reins tightened and slackened gently. Boyar swung intohis easy lope. It pleased the girl that Collie, turning in his saddle atthe sound of hoofs, waved a salute, but did not check his horse. He hadnever presumed on her frank friendship and "taken things for granted."He kept his place always. He was polite, a little reticent, and verymuch in love with Louise. Louise did not pretend to herself that shewas not aware of it. She was all the more pleased that Collie should actso admirably. She had loaned him books, some of which he had readfaithfully and intelligently. In secret he had kissed her name writtenon the flyleaf of each of them. He really rather adored Louise thanloved her, and he builded well, for his adoration (unintimate asadoration must ever be until perchance it touches earth and istranslated into love) was of that blithe and inspiriting quality thatlifts a man above his natural self and shapes the lips to song and theheart to unselfish service. He knew himself to be good-looking and notaltogether a barbarian. No morbid hopelessness clouded his broadhorizon. He knew himself and cherished his strength and his optimism. Heate slowly, which is no insignificant item on the credit side of the bigbook of Success.

  Collie lifted his broad-brimmed hat as Louise rode up. His face wasflushed. His lips were smiling, but his dark eyes were steady and grave.

  "'Morning, Collie! Boyar is just bound to lope. He never can bear to havea horse ahead of him."

  "He don't have to, very often," said Collie.

  "Of course, there are Kentucky saddle-horses that could beat him. Butthey are not cow-ponies."

  "No. And they couldn't beat him if they had to do his work in thehills. About a week of the trails would kill a thoroughbred."

  "Boyar is very conceited, aren't you, Boy?" And she patted the sleekarch of his neck.

  "I don't blame him," said Collie, his eyes twinkling.

  "Going all the way to town?" asked Louise.

  "Yes. Brand wants some things from the store."

  "I'm going to the station. We expect a telegram from some friends. Maybethey'll be there themselves. I hope not, though. They said they werecoming to-morrow, but would telegraph if they started sooner. We wouldhave to get Price's team and buckboard--and I'd be ashamed to ridebehind his horses, especially with my--my friend from the East."

  "Boyar and this here buckskin colt would make a pretty fair team,"ventured Collie, smiling to himself.

  "To drive? Heavens, Collie, no! They've neither of them been inharness."

  "I was just imagining," said Collie.

  "Of course!" exclaimed Louise, laughing. "I understand. Why, I must belate. There's the train for the north just leaving the station. Iexpected to be there in case the Marshalls did come to-day. But theysaid they'd telegraph."

  "I can see three folks on the platform," said Collie. "One is theagent; see his cap shine? Then there's a man and a woman."

  "If it's Anne, she'll never forgive me. She's so--formal about things.It can't be the Marshalls, though."

  "We can ride," suggested Collie. And the two ponies leaped forward. Alittle trail of dust followed them across the valley.

  At the station Louise found her guests, young Dr. Marshall and his wife;also the telegram announcing the day they would arrive.

  "I'm sorry," began Louise; but the Marshalls silenced her with hearty"Oh, pshaws!" and "No matters!" with an incidental hug from Anne.

  "Why, you have changed so, Anne!" exclaimed Louise. "What _have_ youbeen doing? You used to be so terribly formal, and now you're actuallyhugging me in public!"

  "The 'public' has just departed, Miss Lacharme, with your pony, Ibelieve. He rides well--the tall dark chap that came with you."

  "Oh, Collie. He's gone for the buckboard, of course. Stupid of me not todrive down. We really didn't expect you until to-morrow, but you'llforgive us all, won't you? You can see now how telegrams are handled atthese stations."

  Anne Marshall, a brown-eyed, rather stately and pleasingly slender girl,smiled and shook her head. "I don't know. I may, if you will promise tointroduce me to that fascinating young cowboy that rode away with yourhorse. I used to dream of such men."

  Young Dr. Marshall coughed. The girls laughed.

  "Oh, Collie?" said Louise. "Of course, you will meet him. He's ourright-hand man. Uncle Walter says he couldn't get along without him andAunty Eleanor just thinks he is perfect."

  "And Louise?" queried Anne Marshall.

  "Same," said Louise non-committally. "I don't see why he took Boyar withhim to the store, though."

  * * * * *

  The Marshalls and Louise paced slowly up and down the station platform,chatting about the East and Louise's last visit there, before Anne wasmarried. Presently they were interrupted by a wild clatter of hoofs andthe grind and screech of a hastily applied brake. The borrowedbuckboard, strong, light, two-seated, and built for service, had arriveddramatically. Collie leaned back, the reins wrapped round his wrists,and his f
oot pressing the brake home. In the harness stood, or rathergyrated, Boyar and Collie's own pony Apache. It is enough to say thatneither of them had ever been in harness before. The ponies were tryingto get rid of the appended vehicle through any possible means. Louisegasped.

  "Price's team is out--over to the Oro Ranch. I knew you wanted a team ina hurry--" said Collie.

  "It looks quite like a team in a hurry," commented Dr. Marshall. "Yourman is a good driver?"

  "Splendid!" said Louise. "Come on, Anne. You always said you wanted toride behind some real Western horses. Here they are."

  "Why, this is just--just--bully!" whispered the stately Anne Marshall."And isn't he a striking figure?"

  "Yes," assented Louise, who was just the least bit uncertain as to theoutcome of Collie's hasty assembling of untutored harness material. "Itis just 'bully.' Where in the world did you unearth that word, Anne?"