CHAPTER XVIII
ANOTHER PEACE OFFERING
Dade's prediction that the corral would be completed the next day wasfulfilled. It was a large enclosure, covering several acres, for inthe Lazy Y's prosperous days there had been a great many cattle to carefor, and a roomy corral is a convenience always arranged for by anexperienced cattleman. But it yawned emptily for more than a weekfollowing its completion.
During that time there had been little to do. Dade and Malcolm hadpassed several days tinkering at the stable and the bunkhouse; Bob, atCalumet's suggestion, was engaged in the humane task of erecting akennel for the new dog--which had grown large and ungainly, thoughstill retaining the admiration of his owner; and Calumet spent much ofhis time roaming around the country on Blackleg.
"Killin' time," he told Dade.
But it was plain to Dade, as it was to Betty, who had spoken but littleto him in a week, that Calumet was filled with speculation andimpatience over the temporary inaction. The work of repairing thebuildings was all done. There was nothing now to do except to awaitthe appearance of some cattle. The repair work had all been done tothat end, and it was inevitable that Betty must be considering somearrangement for the procuring of cattle, but for a week she had saidnothing and Calumet did not question her.
But on the Monday morning following the period of inaction, Calumetnoted at the breakfast table that Betty seemed unusually eager to havethe meal over. As he was leaving the table she told him she wanted tospeak to him after her housework was done, and he went outside, wherehe lingered, watching Dade and Malcolm and Bob.
About an hour or so later Betty came out. Calumet was standing at thecorral fence near the stable when she stepped down from the porch, andhe gave a gasp of astonishment and then stood perfectly still, lookingat her.
For the Betty that he saw was not the Betty he had grown accustomed toseeing. Not once during the time he had been at the Lazy Y had he seenher except in a house dress and her appearance now was in the nature ofa transformation.
Her appearance now was in the nature of atransformation.]
She was arrayed in a riding habit of brown corduroy which consisted ofa divided skirt--a "doubled-barreled" one in the sarcastic phraseologyof the male cowpuncher, who affects to despise such an article offeminine apparel--a brown woolen blouse with a low collar, above whichshe had sensibly tied a neckerchief to keep the sun and sand fromblistering her neck; and a black felt hat with a wide brim. On herhands were a pair of silver-spangled leather gauntlets; encasing herfeet were a pair of high-topped, high-heeled riding boots, ornamentedwith a pair of long-roweled Mexican spurs, mounted with silver. Shewas carrying a saddle which was also bedecked and bespangled withsilver.
Illumination came instantly to Calumet. These things--the saddle, theriding habit, the spurs--were material possessions that connected herwith the past. They were her personal belongings, kept and treasuredfrom the more prosperous days of her earlier life.
At the first look he had felt a mean impulse to ridicule her because ofthem, but this impulse was succeeded instantly by a queer feeling ofpity for her, and he kept silent.
But even had he ridiculed her, his ridicule would have been merely amask behind which he could have hidden his surprise and admiration, forthough her riding habit suggested things effete and eastern, which arealways to be condemned on general principles, it certainly did fit herwell, was becoming, neat, and in it she made a figure whose attractionswere not to be denied.
She knew how to wear her clothes, too, he noted that instantly. Shewas at home in them; she graced them, gave them a subtle hint ofquality that carried far and sank deep. As she came toward him heobserved that her cheeks were a trifle flushed, her eyes a littlebrighter than usual, but for all that she was at ease and natural.
She stopped in front of him and smiled.
"Do you mind going over to the Diamond K with me this morning?" sheasked.
"What for?" he said gruffly, reddening as he thought she might see theadmiration which was slumbering in his eyes.
"To buy some cattle," she returned. "Kelton, of the Diamond K, hasn'tbeen fortunate this season. Little Darby has been dry nearly all ofthe time and there has been little good grass on his range. In thefirst place, he had too much stock, even if conditions were right. Ihave heard that Kelton offered to pay the Taggarts for the use of partof their grass, but they have never been friends and the Taggartswanted to charge him an outrageous price for the privilege. Therefore,Kelton is anxious to get rid of some of his stock. We need cattle andwe can get them from him at a reasonable figure. He has some whiteHerefords that I would like to get."
He cleared his throat and hesitated, frowning.
"Why don't you take Dade--or Malcolm?" he suggested.
She looked straight at him. "Don't be priggish," she said. "Dade andMalcolm have nothing to do with the running of this ranch. I want youto go with me, because I am going to buy some cattle and I want you toconfirm the deal."
He laughed. "Do you reckon you need to go at all?" he said. "I figureto know cattle some myself, an' I wouldn't let Kelton hornswoggle me."
She straightened, her chin lifting a little. "Well," she said slowly,"if that is the way you feel, I presume I shall have to go alone. Ihad thought, though, that the prospective owner of the Lazy Y mighthave enough interest in his property to put aside his likes anddislikes long enough to care for his own interests. Also," she added,"where I came from, no man would be ungentlemanly enough to refuse toaccompany a lady anywhere she might ask him to go."
The flush on his face grew. But he refused to become disconcerted. "Ireckon to be as much of a gentleman as any Texas guy," he said. "But Iexpect, though," he added; "to prove that to you I'll have to trailalong after you."
"Of course," she said, the corners of her mouth dimpling a little.
He went down to the corral, roped the most gentle and best appearingone of the two horses he had bought in Lazette, caught up his ownhorse, Blackleg, and brought them to the stable, where he saddled andbridled them. Before putting the bridle on her horse, however, hefound an opportunity to work off part of the resentment which hadaccumulated in him over her reference to his conduct.
After adjusting the saddle, paying particular attention to the cinches,he straightened and looked at her.
"Do you reckon to have a bridle that belongs to that right prettysaddle an' suit of yourn?" he asked.
She cast a swift glance about her and blushed. "Oh," she said; "I haveforgotten it! It is in my room!"
"I reckon I'd get it if I was thinkin' of goin' ridin'," he said."Some folks seem to think that when you're ridin' a horse a bridle isright handy."
"Well," she said, smiling at him as she went out the stable door; "ithas been a long time since I have had these things on, and perhaps Iwas a little nervous."
At this reference to her past the pulse of pity which he had felt forher before again shot over him. He had seen a quick sadness in hereyes, lurking behind the smile.
"I reckon you've been stayin' in the house too much," he said gruffly.
She hesitated, going out of the door, to look back at him, astonishmentand something more subtle glinting her eyes. He saw it and frowned.
"It's twelve miles to the Diamond K," he suggested; "an' twelve back.If you're figgerin' on ridin' that distance an' takin' time between tolook at any cattle mebbe you'd better get a move on."
She was out of the door before he had ceased speaking and in anincredibly short time was back, a little breathless, her face flushedas though she had been running.
He put the bridle on her horse, led it out, and condescended to holdthe stirrup for her, a service which she acknowledged with a flashingsmile that brought a reluctant grin to his face.
Then, swinging into his own saddle, he urged Blackleg after her, forshe had not waited for him, riding down past the ranchhouse and outinto the little stretch of plain that reached to the river.
They rode steadily, tal
king little, for Calumet deliberately kept aconsiderable distance between them, thus showing her that thoughcourtesy had forced him to accompany her it could not demand that heshould also become a mark at which she could direct conversation.
It was noon when they came in sight of the Diamond K ranch buildings.They were on a wide plain near the river and what grass there was wassun-scorched and rustled dryly under the tread of their horses' hoofs.Then Calumet added a word to the few that he had already spoken duringthe ride.
"I reckon Kelton must have been loco to try to raise cattle in aGod-forsaken hole like this," he said with a sneer.
"That he was foolish enough to do so will result to our advantage," shereplied.
"Meanin' what?"
"That we will be able to buy what cattle we want more cheaply than wewould were Kelton's range what it should be," she returned, watchinghis face.
He looked at her vindictively. "You're one of them kind of humans thatlike to take advantage of a man's misfortune," he said.
"That is all in the viewpoint," she defended. "I didn't bringmisfortune to Kelton. And I consider that in buying his cattle I amdoing him a favor. I am not gloating over the opportunity--it ismerely business."
"Why didn't you offer Kelton the Lazy Y range?" he said with a twistinggrin.
She could not keep the triumph out of her voice. "I did," sheanswered. "He wouldn't take it because he didn't like you--doesn'tlike you. He told me that he knew you when you were a boy and youweren't exactly his style."
Thus eliminated as a conversationalist, and defeated in his effort tocast discredit upon her, Calumet maintained a sneering silence.
But when they rode up to the Diamond K ranchhouse, he flung a partingword at her.
"I reckon you can go an' talk cattle to your man, Kelton," he said."I'm afraid that if he goes gassin' to me I'll smash his face in."
He rode back to the horse corral, which they had passed, to look againat a horse inside which had attracted his attention.
The animal was glossy black except for a little patch of white abovethe right fore-fetlock; he was tall, rangy, clean-limbed,high-spirited, and as Calumet sat in the saddle near the corral gatewatching him he trotted impudently up to the bars and looked him over.Then, after a moment, satisfying his curiosity, he wheeled, slashed atthe gate with both hoofs, and with a snort, that in the horse languagemight have meant contempt or derision, cavorted away.
Calumet's admiring glance followed him. He sat in the saddle for halfan hour, eyeing the horse critically, and at the end of that time,noting that Betty had returned to the ranchhouse with Kelton, probablyhaving looked at some of the stock she had come to see--Calumet hadobserved on his approach that the cattle corral was well filled withwhite Herefords--he wheeled Blackleg and rode over to them.
"Mr. Kelton has offered me four hundred head of cattle at a reasonablefigure," Betty told him on his approach. "All that remains is for youto confirm it."
"I reckon you're the boss," said Calumet. He looked at Kelton, andevidently his fear that he would "smash" the tatter's face hadvanished--perhaps in a desire to possess the black horse, which hadseized him.
"I reckon you ain't sellin' that black horse?" he said.
"Cheap," said Kelton quickly.
"How cheap?"
"Fifty dollars."
"I reckon he's my horse," said Calumet. "The boss of the Lazy Y willpay for him when she hands you the coin for your cattle." Hescrutinized Kelton's face closely, having caught a note in his voicewhich had interested him. "Why you wantin' to get rid of the black?"he questioned.
"He ain't been rode," said Kelton; "he won't be rode. You can back outof that sale now, if you like. But I'm tellin' you the gospel truth.There ain't no man in the Territory can ride him. Miskell, my regularbronc-buster, is the slickest man that ever forked a horse, an' he'slayin' down in the bunkhouse right now, nursin' a leg which that blackdevil busted last week. An' men is worth more to me than horses rightnow. I reckon," he finished, eyeing Calumet with a certainvindictiveness, which had undoubtedly lasted over from his acquaintancewith the latter in the old days; "that you ain't a heap smart atbreakin' broncs, an' you won't want the black now."
"I'm reckonin' on ridin' him back to the Lazy Y," said Calumet.
Kelton grinned incredulously, and Betty looked swiftly at Calumet. Foran instant she had half feared that this declaration had been made in aspirit of bravado, and she was prepared to be disagreeably disappointedin Calumet. She told herself when she saw his face, however, that sheought to have known better, for whatever his other shortcomings she hadnever heard him boast.
And that he was not boasting now was plainly evident, both to her andKelton. His declaration had been merely a calm announcement of adeliberate purpose. He was as natural now as he had been all along.She saw Kelton's expression change--saw the incredulity go out of it,observed his face whiten a little.
But his former vindictiveness remained. "I reckon if you want to be adamn fool I ain't interferin'. But I've warned you, an' it's yourfuneral."
Calumet did not reply, contenting himself with grinning. He swung downfrom Blackleg, removed the saddle and bridle from the animal, andholding the latter by the forelock turned to Betty.
"I'd like you to ride Blackleg home. He's your horse now. Kelton willlend you a halter to lead that skate you're on. While he's gettin' thehalter I'll put your saddle on Blackleg--if you'll get off."
Betty dismounted and the change was made. She had admiredBlackleg--she was in love with him now that he belonged to her, but shewas afflicted with a sudden speechlessness over the abruptness withwhich he had made the gift. She wanted to thank him, but she felt itwas not time. Besides, he had not waited for her thanks. He hadplaced the halter on the horse she had ridden to the Diamond K, hadlooked on saturninely while Kelton had helped her into the saddle, andhad then carried his own saddle to a point near the outside of thecorral fence, laying the bridle beside it. Then he uncoiled thebraided hair lariat that hung at the pommel of the saddle and walked tothe corral gate.
With a little pulse of joy over her possession of the splendid animalunder her, and an impulse of curiosity, she urged him to the corralfence and sat in the saddle, a little white of face, watching Calumet.
The black horse was alone in the corral and as Calumet entered andclosed the gate behind him, not fastening it, the black came toward himwith mincing steps, its ears laid back.
Calumet continued to approach him. The black backed away slowly untilCalumet was within fifty feet of him--it seemed to Betty that the horseknew from previous experience the length of a rope--and then with asnort of defiance it wheeled and raced to the opposite end of thecorral.
"Watch the gate!" called Calumet to Kelton.
He continued to approach the black. The beast retreated along thefence, stepping high, watching Calumet over its shoulder. Plainly, itdivined Calumet's intention--which was to crowd it into a corner--andwhen almost there it halted suddenly, made a feint to pass to Calumet'sleft, wheeled just as suddenly and plunged back to his right.
The ruse did not work. Calumet had been holding his rope low, withseeming carelessness, but as the black whipped past he gave the rope aquick flirt. Like a sudden snake it darted sinuously out, the loopopened, rose, settled around the black's neck, tightened; the end inCalumet's hand was flipped in a half hitch around a snubbing postnearby, and the black tumbled headlong into the dust of the corral,striking with a force that brought a grunt from him.
For an instant he lay still. And in that instant Calumet was at hisside. While advancing toward the black, he had taken off hisneckerchief, and now he deftly knotted it around the black's head,covering its eyes. A moment later he was leading it, unprotesting, outof the corral gate.
He halted near the fence and looked at Betty, who was watchingcritically, though with a tenseness in her attitude that brought afugitive smile to Calumet's lips.
"I reckon you'd better move a way an' give this here
animal plenty ofroom," he said. "If he's as much horse as Kelton says he is he'll wanta heap of it."
He waited until in obedience to his suggestion Betty had withdrawn to asafe distance toward the ranchhouse. Then with Kelton holding theblack's head he placed the saddle on, then the bridle, working with asure swiftness that brought an admiring glint into Betty's eyes. Thenhe deliberately coiled his rope and fastened it to the pommel of thesaddle, taking extra care with it. This done he turned with a coldgrin to Kelton, nodding his head shortly.
Kelton pulled the neckerchief from the black's eyes, let go of itshead, and scurried to the top of the corral fence. Before he couldreach it Calumet had vaulted into the saddle, and before the blackcould realize what had happened, his feet were in the stirrups.
For an instant the Black stood, its legs trembling, the muscles underits glossy coat quivering, its ears laid flat, its nostrils distended,its mouth open, its eyes wild and bloodshot. Then, tensed formovement, but uncertain, waiting a brief instant before yielding to thethousand impulses that flashed over him, he felt the rowels ofCalumet's spurs as they were driven viciously into his sides.
He sprang wildly upward, screaming with the sudden pain, and came down,his legs asprawl, surprised, enraged, outraged. Alighting, heinstantly lunged--forward, sideways, with an eccentric movement whichhe felt must dislodge the tormentor on his back. It was futile,attended with punishment, for again the sharp spurs sank in, werejammed into his sides, held there--rolling, biting points of steel thathurt him terribly.
He halted for a moment, to gather his wits and his strength, for hisformer experiences with this strange type of creature who clung sotenaciously to his back had taught him that he must use all his craft,all his strength, to dislodge him. To his relief, the spurs ceased tobite. But he was not misled. There was that moment near the corralfence when he had not moved, but still the spurs had sunk in anyway.He would make certain this time that the creature with the spurs wouldnot have another opportunity to use them. And, gathering himself for asupreme effort, he lunged again, shunting himself off toward a stretchof plain back of the ranchhouse, bounding like a ball, his back arched,his head between his forelegs, coming down from each rise with hishoofs bunched so that they might have all landed in a dinner plate.
It was fruitless. Calumet remained unshaken, tenacious as ever. Theblack caught his breath again, and for the next five minutes practicedhis whole category of tricks, and in addition some that he invented inthe stress of the time.
To Betty, watching from her distance, it seemed that he must certainlyunseat Calumet. She had watched bucking horses before, but never hadher interest in the antics of one been so intense; never had she beenso desperately eager for a rider's victory; never had she felt sobreathlessly fearful of one's defeat. For, glancing from the cornersof her eyes at Kelton, she saw a scornful, mocking smile on his face.He was wishing, hoping, that the black would throw Calumet.
At the risk of danger from the black's hoofs she urged Blackleg forwardto a more advantageous position. As she brought him to a halt, sheheard Kelton beside her.
"Some sunfisher, that black," he remarked.
She turned on him fiercely. "Keep still, can't you!" she said.
Kelton reddened; she did not see his face though, for she was watchingCalumet and the black.
The outlaw had not ceased his efforts. On the contrary, it appearedthat he was just beginning to warm to his work. Screaming with rageand hate he sprang forward at a dead run, propelling himself with thespeed of a bullet for a hundred yards, only to come to a dizzying,terrifying stop; standing on his hind legs; pawing furiously at the airwith his forehoofs; tearing impotently at the bit with his teeth,slashing with terrific force in the fury of his endeavor.
Calumet's hat had come off during the first series of bucks. The grinthat had been on his face when he had got into the saddle back near thecorral fence was gone, had been superseded by a grimness that Bettycould see even from the distance from which she watched. He was arider though, she saw that--had seen it from the first. She had seenmany cowboy breakers of wild horses; she knew the confident bearing ofthem; the quickness with which they adjusted their muscles to theeccentric movements of the horse under them, anticipating their everyaction, so far as anyone was able to anticipate the actions of arage-maddened demon who has only one desire, to kill or maim its rider,and she knew that Calumet was an expert. He was cool, first of all, inspite of his grimness; he kept his temper, he was absolutely withoutfear; he was implacable, inexorable in his determination to conquer.Somehow the battle between horse and man, as it raged up and downbefore her, sometimes shifting to the far end of the level, sometimescoming so near that she could see the expression of Calumet's faceplainly, seemed to be a contest between kindred spirits. The analogy,perhaps, might not have been perceived by anyone less intimatelyacquainted with Calumet, or by anyone who understood a horse less, butshe saw it, and knowing Calumet's innate savagery, his primalstubbornness, his passions, the naked soul of the man, she began tofeel that the black was waging a hopeless struggle. He could never winunless some accident happened.
And they were very near her when it seemed that an accident did happen.
The black, his tongue now hanging out, the foam that issued from hismouth flecked with blood; his sides in a lather; his flanks moist andtorn from the cruel spur-points: seemed to be losing his cunning and tobe trusting entirely to his strength and yielding to his rage. Shecould hear his breath coming shrilly as he tore past her; the whites ofhis eyes white no longer, but red with the murder lust. It seemed toher that he must divine that defeat was imminent, and in a transport ofdespair he was determined to stake all on a last reckless move.
As he flashed past her she looked at Calumet also. His face was pale;there was a splotch of blood on his lips which told of an internalhemorrhage brought on by the terrific jarring that he had received, butin his eyes was an expression of unalterable resolve; the grim, cold,immutable calm of purpose. Oh, he would win, she knew. Nothing butdeath could defeat him. That was his nature--his character. There wasno alternative. He saw none, would admit none. He found time, as hewent past her, to grin at her, and the grin, though a trifle wan,contained much of its old mockery and contempt of her judgment of him.
The black raced on for a hundred yards, and what ensued might have beenan accident, or it might have been the deliberate result of the black'slatest trick. He came to a sudden stop, rose on his hind legs andthrew himself backward, toppling, rigid, upon his back to the ground.
As he rose for the fall Calumet slipped out of the saddle and leapedsideways to escape being crushed. He succeeded in this effort, but ashe leaped the spur on his right heel caught in the hollow of theblack's hip near the flank, the foot refused to come free, it caught,jammed, and Calumet fell heavily beside the horse, luckily a little toone side, so that the black lay prone beside him.
Betty's scream was sharp and shrill. But no one heard it--at leastKelton seemed not to hear, for he was watching Calumet, his eyes wide,his face white; nor did Calumet seem to hear, for he was sitting on theground, trying to work his foot out of the stirrup. Twice, as heworked with the foot, Betty saw the black strike at him with its hoofs,and once a hoof missed his head by the narrowest of margins.
But the foot was free at last, and Calumet rose. He still held thereins in his hands, and now, as he got to his feet, he jerked out thequirt that he wore at his waist and lashed the black, vigorously,savagely.
The beast rose, snorting with rage and pain, still unsubdued. His hindlegs had not yet straightened when Calumet was again in the saddle.The black screamed, with a voice almost human in its shrillness, andleaped despairingly forward, shaking its head from side to side asCalumet drove the spurs deep into its sides. It ran another hundredyards, half-heartedly, the spring gone out of its stride; then wheeledand came back, bucking doggedly, clumsily, to a point within fifty feetof where Betty sat on Blackleg. Then, as it bucked again, it came downwith i
ts forelegs unjointed, and rolled over on its side, withCalumet's right leg beneath it.
The black was tired and lay with its neck outstretched on the ground,breathing heavily, its sides heaving. Calumet also, was not averse toa rest and had straightened and lay, an arm under his head, waiting.
Betty smiled, for though he appeared to be in a position which mightresult in a crushed leg or foot, she knew that he was in no danger,because the heavy ox-bow stirrup afforded protection for his foot,while the wide seat of the saddle kept the upper part of his leg frominjury. She had seen the cowboys roll under their horses in thismanner many times, deliberately--it saved them the strenuous work ofalighting and remounting. They had done it, too, for the opportunityit afforded them to rest and to hurl impolite verbiage at their horses.
But Calumet was silent. She rode a little closer to him, to look athim, and when his eyes met hers; she saw that his spirit was in no waytouched; that his job of subduing the black was not yet finished andthat he purposed to finish it.
"We're goin' in a minute," he said to her, his voice a little husky."I'd thank you to bring my hat. I don't reckon you'll be able to keepup with us, but I reckon you'll excuse me for runnin' away from you."
He had scarcely finished speaking before the black struggled to rise.Calumet helped him by keeping a loose rein and lifting his own body.And when the black swung over and got to its feet, Calumet settledfirmly into the saddle and instantly jammed his spurs home into itsflanks. The black reared, snorted, came down and began to rundesperately across the level, desiring nothing so much now as to do thebidding of the will which he had discovered to be superior to his own.
Betty watched in silence as horse and rider went over the level,traveling in a dust cloud, and when they began to fade she turned toKelton. The latter was crestfallen, glum.
"Shucks," he said; "if I'd have thought he'd break the black devil hewouldn't have got him for twice fifty dollars. He's sure a slick,don't-give-a-damn buster."
Betty smiled mysteriously and went to look for Calumet's hat. Then,riding Blackleg and leading the other horse, she went toward the Lazy Y.
It was dusk when she arrived, to be greeted by Dade and Bob. She sawthe black horse in the corral and she knew that Calumet had won thevictory, for the black's head dropped dejectedly and she had never seenan animal that seemed less spirited. It did not surprise her to findthat Calumet looked tired, and when she came down stairs from changingher dress and got supper for them all, she did not mention the incidentof the breaking of the black. Nor would he talk, though she wasintensely curious as to the motive which had prompted him to make her apresent of Blackleg. Was it an indication that he was feeling morefriendly to her, or had he merely grown tired of Blackleg?
The answer came to her late that night, after Calumet had retired.Betty and Dade were in the kitchen; Malcolm and Bob were in thesitting-room. Betty had taken Dade into her confidence and had relatedto him the happenings of the day--so far as she could withoutacquainting him with the state of her feelings toward Calumet.
"So he can ride some?" commented Dade, after she had told him about theblack. "I reckon he'd bust that horse or break his neck. But he wasin bad shape when he rode in--almost fell out of the saddle, an'staggered scandalous when he walked. All in. Didn't make a whimper,though. Clear grit. He grinned at me when he turned the black intothe corral.
"'Does that cayuse look busted?' he said.
"I allowed he had that appearance, an' he laughed.
"'I've give Betty Blackleg,' he said. 'I've got tired of him.'"
Betty's disappointment showed in her eyes; she had suspected thatCalumet had had another reason. She had hoped--
"I reckon, though, that that wasn't his real reason," continued Dade;"he wasn't showin' all of his hand there."
"What makes you think that?" asked Betty, trying not to blush.
"Well," said Dade, "I was walkin' round the stable a while ago, justnosin' around without any purpose, an' walkin' slow. When I got to thecorner, not makin' any noise, I saw Calumet standin' in front of thestable door, talkin'. There was nobody around him--nothin' butBlackleg, an' so I reckon he was talkin' to Blackleg. Sure enough hewas. He puts his head up against Blackleg's head, an' he said, softan' low, kinda:
"'Blackleg,' he said; 'I've give you away. I hated like poison to doit, but I reckon Betty'll look a heap better on you than she does onthat skate she rode today. Damn that black devil!' he said, 'Iwouldn't have took the job of breakin' him for any other woman in theworld.'
"I come away then," concluded Dade; "for somehow I didn't want him toknow there was anybody around to hear him."
Betty got up quickly and went out on the porch. She stood there,looking out into the darkness for a long, long time, and presently Dadegrew tired of waiting for her and went to his room.
The Boss of the Lazy Y Page 18
