CHAPTER V
A DUEL OF ENDURANCE
When the storm broke over the Quarter Circle KT the Ramblin' Kid wastwenty miles away following the Gold Dust maverick. Old Heck's surmisethat he had gone in search of the outlaw filly was but half correct. Itwas not with the definite purpose of trying for the renegade mare thathe had mounted Captain Jack and headed him toward the Narrows at themoment Carolyn June Dixon and Ophelia Cobb arrived at the ranch. Nor wasit to escape meeting the women. Their coming meant nothing to theRamblin' Kid.
He simply wanted to be alone.
The ride with Parker and the boys to the North Springs meant talk. TheRamblin' Kid did not want to talk. He wanted to be with his thoughts,his horse and silence.
Should he happen on to the maverick he might give her a run. Since herfirst appearance on the Kiowa, the Ramblin' Kid had seen her many times.More than once, from a distance, he had watched the mare, getting a lineon her habits. Sooner or later he expected to test Captain Jack'sendurance and skill against the filly's speed and cunning. Withoutsuccess other riders of the Kiowa had tried to corral the outlaw or getwithin roping throw of her shapely head. So far she had proved herselffaster and more clever than any horse ridden against her. The Ramblin'Kid believed Captain Jack was master of the beautiful mare, that in abattle of nerve and muscle and wind the roan stallion could run herdown. Some day he would prove it.
At the Narrows the trail forked. One branch turned sharply to the rightand followed a coulee out on to the divide between the Cimarron and thelower Una de Gata; the other swung toward the river, slipped into it,crossed the stream, and was lost in the sand-hills beyond.
The broncho, of his own will, at the prongs of the road wheeled up thecoulee and climbed out on the level bench south of the Cimarron. Ahalf-dozen miles away Sentinel Mountain rose abruptly out of the plain.Toward the lone butte Captain Jack turned. He knew the place. On thenorth slope there was a tiny spring, fenced with wire to keep the stockfrom trampling it into a bog; near by was a duster of pinon trees; belowthe seep in the narrow gorge was a thin strip of willows. It was afavorite rendezvous sought by the Ramblin' Kid when in moods such as nowpossessed him. Silently he rode to the group of pinons and dismounted.
The Ramblin' Kid stretched himself under the trees while Captain Jackdrank at the little water course. Then, with his bridle off, thebroncho fed contentedly on the bunch grass along the hillside. After atime Captain Jack quit feeding and came into the shade of the pinons.The Ramblin' Kid, flat on his back, stared through the scant foliage ofthe trees into the sky--overcast now with a dim haze, forerunner of thestorm gathering above the Costejo peaks. Thousands of feet in the air abuzzard, merely a black speck, without motion of wings, wheeled ingreat, lazy, ever-widening circles.
As the sun dropped into the cloud bank in the west a band of mares andcolts came from that direction and rounded a spur of Sentinel Mountain.At their heads was the most beautiful horse ever seen on the Kiowarange.
In color a coppery, almost golden, chestnut sorrel; flaxen mane andtail, verging on creamy white; short-coupled in the back and withwithers that marked the runner; belly smooth and round; legs trim andneat as an antelope's and muscled like a panther's; head small, carriedproudly erect and eyes full and wonderfully clear and brown.
"Th' filly!" the Ramblin' Kid breathed, "with a bunch of Tony Malush'sAnchor Bar mares and colts!"
Captain Jack saw the range horses and lifted his head.
"Psst!" the Ramblin' Kid hissed and the neigh was stopped.
The rangers moved toward the east and over the crest of a ridge aquarter of a mile away. On the flat beyond the rise they stopped, thecolts immediately teasing the mares to suck. The filly withdrew a shortdistance from the herd and stood alert and watchful.
For half an hour the Ramblin' Kid studied the Gold Dust maverick.
He looked at the clouds climbing higher and higher in the west, thenlong and thoughtfully at Captain Jack.
"Let's get her, Boy!" he murmured; "let's go an' get her!"
His mind made up, the Ramblin' Kid slipped the bridle again on CaptainJack, removed the saddle and with the blanket wiped the sweat from thebroncho's back, smoothed the blanket, reset the saddle, carefullytightened front and rear cinches and mounting the little stallion guidedhim slowly down the ravine in the direction of the horses on the flat. Ahundred yards away the mares and colts, alarmed by the suddenhalf-whinny, half-snort, from the filly, discovered the approachinghorse and rider.
Instantly the wild horses crowded closely together and galloped towardthe Una de Gata. Captain Jack leaped into a run, rushing them. Themaverick wheeled quickly and dashed away to the south alone.
"Her pet trick!" the Ramblin' Kid muttered as he headed Captain Jackafter the nimble creature. "She absodamnedlutely will not bunch--seemsto know a crowd means a corral, a rope and at last a rider on hershapely back!"
For two miles it was a race. The Ramblin' Kid held Captain Jack to asteady run a couple of hundred yards in the rear of the speeding mare.At last he pulled the stallion down to a trot. The Gold Dust maverickanswered by running another fifty yards and then herself settling intothe slower stride. "Like I thought," the Ramblin' Kid said to himself,"it's a case of wear her out--a case of seasoned old muscle againstspeedy young heels!"
It became a duel of endurance between Captain Jack, wiry, toughened andfully matured, with heavier muscles, and the nimble, lighter-footed GoldDust mare.
At dark they were on the edge of the Arroyo Grande and Captain Jack hadclosed the distance between them until less than a hundred yards wasbetween the heels of the filly and the head of the stallion behind her.She turned east along the arroyo, followed it a mile, seeking acrossing, then doubled straight north toward the Cimarron. Captain Jackhung to her trail like a hound. In the blackness that preceded the stormshe could not lose him. With almost uncanny sureness he picked herout--following, following, never giving the maverick a moment's rest.Yet it seemed that the distance she kept ahead was measured, so alertand watchful was she always. Both were dripping with sweat. Try as hewould, it seemed impossible for Captain Jack to win those few yardsthat would put the filly in reach of the rope the Ramblin' Kid heldready to cast until the inky darkness made it impossible to risk athrow.
The mare splashed into the Cimarron.
A dazzling zigzag flash of lightning, the first of the storm, and theRamblin' Kid saw the filly struggling in the yellow wind-whippedcurrent. A moment later and Captain Jack was swimming close behind her.On the north side of the river the mare yielded to the drive of thetempest and turned east down the stream. A rocky gorge running at rightangles toward the north offered shelter from the lashing wind and rain.Up the ravine the maverick headed. A rush of muddy water down the canyonsent pursued and pursuer slipping and sliding and climbing for safetyhigh up on the brush-covered, torrent-swept hillside. The constant blazeand tremble of lightning illumined the whole range. A wolf, terrified bythe storm, seeking cover, crouched in the shelter of a black rock-cliff.The Ramblin' Kid saw the creature. His hand instinctively slipped underhis slicker and gripped the gun at his hip.
"Hell! what's th' use of killin' just to kill?" he murmured. His hold onthe gun relaxed. A bolt of lightning slivered the rock above the wolf;there was an acrid odor of burning hair. The next flash showed the wolfstretched dead twenty feet below the cliff. "Well, I'll be damned!" theRamblin' Kid whispered as he bowed his head before the gale, "that wasfunny! Guess God himself figured it was time for that poor cuss to die!"
In the last quarter of the night, at the North Springs, when the stormhad spent itself and the white moon looked down on a drenched andflood-washed earth, the 'Ramblin' Kid dropped his rope over the head ofthe Gold Dust maverick--barely twenty feet ahead of the horse herode--conquered by the superior nerve, muscle and endurance of CaptainJack, still the greatest outlaw the Kiowa range had ever known!
The touch of the rope fired the filly to a supreme effort; she lungedforward; Captain Jack set himself for the shock--he
threw her cold, fulllength, in the soft mud; instantly the little stallion sprang forward togive the mare slack, she came to her feet, squealing piteously, andplunged desperately ahead--again Captain Jack braced himself for the jarand put her down, "It's hell, Little Girl," the Ramblin' Kid said with acatch in his throat; "but you've got to learn!" The third time themaverick tested the rope and the third time Captain Jack threw her in ahelpless heap. That time when she got to her feet she stood trembling inevery muscle until Captain Jack came up to her side and the Ramblin' Kidreached out and laid his hand on the beautiful mane. She had learned.Never again would the wonderful creature tighten a rope on her neck.
Trailing the filly, the Ramblin' Kid forced her back toward theCimarron, into its raging flood, multiplied a hundredfold by thetorrential rain of the night; side by side she and Captain Jack swam thestream, and in the gray dawn, while the Quarter Circle KT still slept,he turned the mare and Captain Jack into the circular corral. He removedthe saddle from Captain Jack, took the rope from the filly's neck, threwthe horses some hay and on the dry ground under the shed by the corral,lay down and went to sleep.
For fourteen hours, without rest, the Ramblin' Kid had ridden.
The sun was up when Sing Pete electrified the Quarter Circle KT intolife and action by the jangle of the iron triangle sending out thebreakfast call.
Old Heck stepped to the door of the bunk-house and looked out across thevalley. The Cimarron roared sullenly beyond the meadow. The lower fieldwas a lake of muddy water, backed up from the gorge below. He glancedtoward the circular corral.
"What th'--Who left horses up last night?" he asked of the cowboysdressing sleepily inside the bunk-house.
"Nobody," Parker answered for the group.
Skinny Rawlins came to the door. "It's Captain Jack," he said, "and--anddarned if th' Ramblin' Kid ain't got the filly!"
"Aw, he couldn't have caught her last night," Bert Lilly said.
"Well, she's there," Skinny retorted, "somebody's corraled her--that'scertain!"
Hurriedly dressing, the cowboys crowded out of the bunk-house and downto the circular corral. The Gold Dust maverick leaped to the center ofthe enclosure as the group drew near and stood with head up, eyesflashing and nostrils quivering, a perfect picture of defiance and fear.The swim across the river had washed the mud from her mane and sides andshe was as clean as if she had been brushed.
"Lord, she's a beauty!" Chuck Slithers exclaimed.
"Sure is--be hell to ride, though!" Bert commented. "Wonder where theRamblin' Kid is--"
"S-h-hh! Yonder he is," Charley Saunders said, observing the figureunder the shed, "--asleep. Come on away and let him rest!"
"Breakfast's ready anyhow," Old Heck added.
"And Skinny ain't shaved or powdered his face yet--" Chuck laughed;"these lovers ought to fix themselves up better!"
"Shut up, you blamed idiot, ain't you got no respect?" Parker said asthey turned toward the house.
"Listen at Parker, he's one of them, too," Chuck continued; "this is hisday to be a sweetheart to the widow!"
"I'd rather have Skinny's job," Bert said with a snicker, "I'd be afraidof Ophelia--"
"Why?"
"She acts too gentle to start with"--"
"Give her time," Charley suggested, "she'll bu'st loose when she getsbetter acquainted!"
"Her and Old Heck got pretty well introduced last night, holding handsthe way they did, and--"
"Dry up," Old Heck interposed with a foolish grin, "and come on tobreakfast!"
Carolyn June and Ophelia were charmingly fresh and interesting in daintyblue and lavender morning gowns. A bowl of roses, plucked by Opheliafrom the crimson rambler by the south window, rested in the center ofthe table. The cowboys saw the flowers and exchanged glances. Old Heckand Skinny blushed.
Carolyn June noticed the vacant place at her right.
"Th' Ramblin' Kid ain't up yet," Skinny volunteered.
"Then the storm did drive him to shelter, after all?" Carolyn June askedwith the barest trace of contempt in her voice.
"I wouldn't hardly say that," Bert Lilly remarked, holding his cup forSing Pete to fill with coffee; "--he brought in the Gold Dust maverick."
"Yes," Chuck said with mock gravity, "it was quite an undertaking--hesprinkled salt on her tail--"
"How clever!" Ophelia exclaimed, looking interested, "and is that theway they catch--mavericks?" stumbling over the unusual word.
"Chuck's joking," Parker said; "he always was foolish--"
"Uncle Josiah," Carolyn June asked suddenly, "can you take Ophelia toEagle Butte to-day?"
"I--Parker can," Old Heck answered, "if he can drive the car. Stillthere are probably some pretty bad washouts--"
Ophelia looked quickly at Old Heck, interested by the note she detectedin his voice.
"I--I--got some work to do," he continued, "if you could wait tillto-morrow"--addressing the widow--"I could more than likely go myself--"
"I guess I can handle the car all right," Parker said, lookingsignificantly at Old Heck; "the roads will be dried up in a littlewhile."
"It's Parker's day anyhow and he don't want to miss--" Chuck started tosay.
"After breakfast," Old Heck interrupted, scowling at the cowboy, "Chuckand Pedro had better both ride-line on the upper pasture. The cattleprobably went against the fence in the storm last night and knocked offa lot of wire. Of course, Skinny will have to stay here," he added, "andthe rest of us, except Parker, ought to look after the fences in theeast bottoms--from the looks of the river this morning a lot of postsand wire must be washed out."
"Whoever gets up the saddle horses had better catch them in the pasturecorral," Parker declared, "it won't do to turn them in with that wildfilly and Captain Jack."
"I think I shall go see that wonderful filly," Carolyn June said asthey left the table, "she may be the particular broncho I will want toride--"
"Not much," Old Heck objected, "these outlaws ain't exactly the kind ofhorses for women to fool with. You can use Old Blue. He's gentle."
"Did I tell you I wanted a 'gentle horse'?" Carolyn June asked with abit of impatience.
"No, but I figured that was the kind you'd need on account of beingraised back east--"
"Well, I am going to see the Gold Dust maverick," Carolyn June said withemphasis, "and if she suits me I'll--I'll ride her!"
"I'll go with you," Skinny offered as Carolyn June stepped from thekitchen door and started toward the circular corral.
"Never mind!" she spoke shortly, "--you can go catch 'Old Blue'and"--with scorn in her voice--"if he's able to walk, maybe it will besafe for me to ride him to the end of the lane and back--Ugh! 'OldBlue!' The very name sounds as if he was dead!"
"Old Blue's a good horse," Skinny protested, "--we work him on the hayderrick--"
But Carolyn June was gone, walking rapidly across the open ground in thedirection of the corral in which the Ramblin' Kid had turned CaptainJack and the Gold Dust filly.
"Jumpin' eats!" Bert exclaimed as the cowboys started toward the stable,"didn't the young one show her teeth sudden?"
"Skinny's going to have his hands full if he don't look out," CharleySaunders remarked sagely. "Still that kind ain't as dangerous as theones that act plumb gentle like the widow has acted so far."
"Any female is treacherous," Chuck observed grimly. "They're just likecinch-binders--you can't tell when they're going to rare up and fallover backwards!"
"I'll bet Ophelia turns out to be a W.C.T.U. or something," Bertpredicted solemnly.
"If she does it's all off with the Quarter Circle KT, because Parker andOld Heck are both in love already," Charley said as they rounded thecorner of the barn.
Carolyn June gave a gasp of admiration as she stepped up to the circularcorral and saw the Gold Dust maverick closely.
"Oh, you beauty! You adorable beauty!" she breathed.
Captain Jack and the filly were near the fence next to the shed. CarolynJune passed in between the low building and the
corral to be closer tothe horses. The sky was cloudless and a wonderful liquid blue; the sunglistened on the rich, golden, brown sides of the mare and made her coatshine like delicate satin. When Captain Jack and the filly saw CarolynJune they stood for a moment as rigid as though cast in bronze, headsheld high, eyes fixed curiously yet without fear on the slender girlishfigure.
Captain Jack took a step forward in a half-challenging way. Themaverick stood perfectly still.
"You beauty," the girl repeated, "you wonderful golden beauty! You aregoing to be my horse--I'm going to ride you--_just you_--"
"You'll get you're neck broke if you do!" a voice, deliberate and ofpeculiar softness, said behind her.
Carolyn June turned, startled, toward the shed from where the voice hadcome. She knew, even before she looked, that the speaker was theRamblin' Kid. Evidently he had just awakened. He had not risen and stilllay stretched on the ground, his head resting on the saddle he had usedfor a pillow. Carolyn June could not help wondering how long he had beenlying there studying her back. The thought confused her. In spite of herefforts at self-control a slow flush crept over her cheeks. The Ramblin'Kid saw it and the faintest hint of a smile showed on his lips--or wasthe suggestion of amusement in the twinkling glance of his eyes? CarolynJune could not tell. The subtlety and queerly humble impudence of itfilled her with anger.
While she looked into his eyes Carolyn June appraised the physicalappearance of the Ramblin' Kid. Certainly he was not handsome, sprawlingthere in his rough clothing. She knew his age was somewhere near herown, perhaps he was a year, surely no more than that, older thanherself. Yet there was an expression about the face that suggested muchexperience, a sort of settled maturity and seriousness. His mouth,Carolyn June thought, showed a trace of cruelty--or was it onlyfirmness? The teeth were good. If he stood up her own eyes would have toangle upward a trifle to look into his and if hers were brown theRamblin' Kid's were positively black--yes, she would say, a brutal,unfathomable black, penetrating and hard. His cheeks were smooth andalmost sallow they were so dark, and she could tell there was not anounce of flesh save tough sinewy muscle on his body. He was fullydressed except for the white weather-beaten Stetson lying beside thesaddle and the chaps and spurs kicked off and tossed with the bridle andrope near by on the ground. A dark woolen shirt open at the throat, blueoveralls faded and somewhat dingy, black calfskin boots on a pair offeet that could not have been larger than sixes, comprised his attire.
So this was the Ramblin' Kid, Carolyn June thought. Someway she hadpictured him a blue-eyed, yellow-haired sort of composite SkinnyRawlins, Chuck, Bert Lilly, Charley Saunders all in one and with theface of a boy in the teens!
He was different. She wondered, and almost laughed at the absurdthought, if he was bow-legged. A glance at the straight limbs stretchedin repose on the ground dispelled the doubt.
The suddenness with which the Ramblin' Kid had spoken and the tone heused, Carolyn June thought, was utterly unfair. She felt as if she hadbeen ambushed. How could she know he was sleeping under the shed? Whywasn't he in the bunk-house where he belonged? Her own embarrassmentmade her cross. She wanted to say "damn!" and stamp her foot or throwsomething at him, lying there so completely self-possessed! Instead, shelooked steadily into the eyes of the Ramblin' Kid. Someway as she lookedthey seemed not so unkind, more sorrowful they were, on closer scrutiny,than cruel. She started to speak, her cheeks began to burn--
Without a word she turned and walked rapidly toward the house.
As she moved away Carolyn June felt something snap at her knee. She didnot stop. Reaching down she gathered the soft folds of the loose gownabout her and hurried away from the corral.
"God!" the Ramblin' Kid whispered as he straightened up, "she's builtlike th' Gold Dust maverick--an' just as game! They was made for eachother."
He went to the corral and leaned against the fence, studying the fillythoughtfully, while Captain Jack with a friendly whinny came and nosedat the fingers thrust through the bars. After a time the mare cautiouslymoved up beside the roan stallion and stretched her own velvety muzzletoward the hand the Ramblin' Kid held out.
"You want to be loved, too, you little devil!" the Ramblin' Kid laughedgently, "--you thought I was mean last night, didn't you?"
For a while he fooled with the horses, then started toward the kitchen.A few steps from where Carolyn June had been standing he glanced down ata broad pink satin elastic band lying on the ground. It had beenfastened with a silver butterfly clasp. The clasp was broken. TheRamblin' Kid stooped and picked it up.
"I'll be--!" he chuckled as he fingered, almost reverently, the daintything, "it's a--a--darned pretty little jigger!"
Smiling whimsically the Ramblin' Kid slipped his find in his pocket andsought Sing Pete to tease him for a bite of breakfast.
The Ramblin' Kid Page 5
