The Winning of Barbara Worth

by Harold Bell Wright

  CHAPTER VII.

  DON'T YOU LIKE MY DESERT, MR. HOLMES?

  After his noon-day meal, Willard Holmes, following the example ofothers, sought the shade of the arcade in front of the hotel. Helpinghimself to a chair and moving a little away from the general company,he sat enjoying his cigar, musing on the novelty of his surroundingsand reviewing his impressions of the last few hours.

  It was natural that he should make comparisons--that he should see menand things in the light of the only men and things he had ever known.Abe Lee he measured by the standing of his own school-trainedengineering friends, demanding that the desert-born and desert-trainedsurveyor exhibit all the hall-marks of Boston. He might as consistentlyhave demanded that the flood of sunlight that fell in such blindingglory upon the new world before him should shine as through thesmoke-grimed city atmosphere of New York. One was no more impossiblethan the other. Jefferson Worth he compared with the college anduniversity friends of his father--with Mr. Greenfield and the NewYork-bred business men of his class, demanding that the western pioneerbanker show the same characteristics that distinguished the culturedcapitalists whose great-great-grandfathers were pioneers. Rubio City hesaw in the light of those eastern cities that were founded in the dayswhen men knew not that there was any world west of the Alleghanies.

  Turning his head now and then to look over the typical groups that satin the shade of the arcade, dressed--or undressed--with all the easyfreedom of a land too young as yet to have conventions, he recalled hisfavorite hotels in his home cities and smiled to think what wouldhappen if some of these roughly clad individuals were to appear thereamong the guests. He did not know yet that some of these roughly cladindividuals were as much at home in those same favorite hotels as washe himself. Likewise as he watched the passing citizens in the streethe recalled the scene from the windows of his club at home--a famousclub on a famous avenue.

  That young woman, for instance, with her khaki divided skirt, widesombrero, fringed gauntlets and the big western saddle coming there ona horse whose feet seemed scarcely to touch the ground as he plungedand pranced impatiently along, springing side-wise, with arched neckand pointed ears, at every object that could possibly be made intosomething frightful by his playful fancy! What a sensation she wouldcreate at home! By Jove! but she could ride, though. He watched withadmiring eyes the strong, graceful figure that sat the high-strung,uncertain horse as easily and unconsciously as any one of his womenfriends at home would rest in a comfortable chair.

  As the horsewoman drew nearer he fell to wondering what she was like.Could she talk, for instance, of anything but the homely details of herown rough life? He shrugged his shoulders as he fancied her crudeattempts at conversation, her uncouth language and raw expressions. Thegirl turned her horse toward the hotel entrance. As she drew stillnearer he saw that she was not pretty. Her mouth was too large, herface too strong, her skin too tanned by the sun and wind.

  At the sidewalk the girl swung from the saddle lightly, and throwingthe bridle reins over the horse's head with a movement that brought outthe beautiful lines of her figure, she turned her back upon the pawing,restless animal with as little concern as though she had delivered himto a correctly uniformed groom. No she was not pretty; shewas--magnificent. The adjective forced itself upon him.

  All along the arcade people were smiling in greeting, the men liftingtheir hats. Two cowboys in high-heeled boots and "chaps" paused inpassing. "That new hawss of yours is sure some hawss, Miss Barbara,"said one admiringly, sombrero in hand.

  The girl smiled and Holmes saw the flash of her perfect teeth. "Oh,he'll do, Bob, when I've worked him down a little."

  She passed into the hotel, followed by the eyes of every man in sightincluding the engineer, who had noted with surprise the purity andrichness of her voice.

  The New York man had turned and was watching a company of Indiansfarther down the street when that voice close beside him said: "I begyour pardon. Is this Mr. Holmes?"

  He turned quickly, rising to his feet.

  She smiled at his astonished look. "The clerk pointed you out to me. Iam Barbara Worth. You met father at the bank this morning. Texas Joeand Pat told me about your being here and I could scarcely wait to seeyou. I'm afraid you must have thought them a little rough last nightbut really it's only their fun. They're as good as gold."

  As she stood now close to him--the red blood glowing under the softbrown of her cheeks--Willard Holmes felt her rich personality asdistinctly as one senses the presence of the ocean, the atmosphere ofthe woods or the air of meadows and fields. But by all his conventionalgods, this was the unconventional limit! that this girl, the daughterof a banker, should openly seek out a total stranger to introduceherself to him on the public street before a crowd of hotel loungers!And the way she spoke of those rough men in the saloon, one would thinkthey were her intimate friends.

  He managed to say: "Really, I am delighted, Miss Worth. May I escortyou to the hotel parlor?"

  She looked at him curiously. "Oh, no indeed! It is much nicer out herein the arcade, don't you think? But you may bring another chair."Dumbly he obeyed, feeling that every eye was on him and flushing withembarrassment for her.

  "When Texas and Pat told me that you were one of the engineers goingout with The King's Basin party I could scarcely wait to see you. Itmakes it all seem so real, you know--your coming all the way out herefrom New York. I have dreamed so much about the reclamation of TheKing's Basin Desert; and you see I consider all civil engineers mypersonal friends."

  "Indeed," he said. It is always safely correct to say "indeed" as hesaid it, particularly when you have nothing else to say.

  She regarded him doubtfully with an open, straight-forward look whichwas somewhat disconcerting. She was so unconscious of the strength ofher splendid womanhood and he felt her presence so vividly.

  "I suppose you must find everything out here very strange," she saidslowly. "Father says this is your first visit to the West and of courseit _can't_ be like your part of the country."

  "It is all very interesting," he murmured. This also was sane and safe.

  "I know that Abe is very busy and father never leaves the bank excepton business, so there is no one but me to look after you"--shesmiled--"that is--no one of our King's Basin people."

  Willard Holmes was of that type of corporation servant who recognizesno interests but the financial interests of the capital employing him.His services as a civil engineer belonged wholly to those who boughtthem for their own profit. Barbara's innocent words aroused him. Whatthe deuce did she mean by "our King's Basin people"? Greenfield and hisfriends thought that _they_ were The King's Basin people. In theinterests of his employers he must look into this.

  "But I don't ride, you know."]

  "It is very kind of you, I am sure," he said with a little more warmth."To tell the truth I _was_ feeling a bit strange, you know."

  "I'm sure you must be nearly dead with lonesomeness. Wouldn't you liketo go for a ride? I would so like to show you my Desert."

  "_Her_ Desert!" he mentally observed. Indeed he must look into this.Fully alert now he answered heartily: "I should be delighted, I'm sure.You are more than kind. When could we go?"

  "Right now," she said quickly. "Here comes Pablo Garcia. I'll send himfor another horse." She called to the passing Mexican: "Here Pablo."

  The young fellow came to her quickly and stood, sombrero in hand, hisdark eyes shining with pride at the recognition. In Spanish shedirected him to fetch a horse for the Senor.

  "Si, Senorita." With a low bow the Mexican turned to obey.

  The eastern man, not understanding the words, but awakening suddenly tothe meaning of the action, broke forth with--"Here, wait a minute."

  "Wait," repeated Barbara in Spanish. Pablo paused.

  "You are sending him for a horse and saddle?" asked Holmes.

  "Yes; it will take only a few minutes."

  "But I don't ride, you know."

  "You don't ride?" The girl looke
d at him in blank amazement. "I don'tthink I ever saw a man before who didn't ride."

  He laughed indulgently. Something in her voice and manner touched hissense of humor. "I'm very sorry. I know I ought to," he said in mockhumility.

  "Oh, well; we can drive. I'll have Pablo bring a rig." She explainedwhat she wanted to the Mexican in his native tongue, and this time hemounted her horse and rode away.

  When the man returned a little later with a span of restless, half-wildbroncos hitched to a light buggy, the girl stepped into the vehicle andtook the reins as a matter of course. With a low chuckle of amusementthe engineer took his place at her left. He was beginning really toenjoy the situation. Shying and plunging the team demanded all ofBarbara's attention but she managed to steal a look at her silentcompanion now and then, as if expecting him to show signs ofnervousness. Willard Holmes, on his part, was wrapped in silentadmiration of her strength and skill.

  "They'll cool down in a little while," the girl volunteered, as if toreassure her guest, after a particularly wild break on the part of thehorses. But on the extreme edge of town, where the wagon road runsclosest to the railroad track, a passing switch engine proved too muchfor the excited team. In a moment the frightened animals were runningtoward the Mesa at full speed. With all her strength Barbara struggledto regain control, but her arms were a woman's arms and the horses,quick to recognize their advantage, put back their ears and ran thefaster in mad defiance.

  The girl was not frightened; she was annoyed. "I--I'm afraid they arerunning away," she gasped at last.

  To her surprise a hearty laugh was the only answer to her confession.She shot a quick glance over her left shoulder. Her companion wasleaning back in his seat, his merry face expressing the keenestenjoyment.

  Then the girl felt a big hard shoulder pressing against her; longpowerful arms stretched over hers; and two masterful hands closed onthe reins above her cramped fingers. She relinquished her hold andshrank back out of the way with a sigh of relief and--yes, a look ofadmiration as the horses, with a few wild leaps and ineffectualattempts to run again, settled down to a more rational gait.

  "My!" she gasped, at the exhibition of the engineer's strength, "Ibelieve you could pull their front feet off the ground."

  Her companion was still smiling.

  "Why didn't you tell me you could drive?" she demanded.

  He chuckled maliciously, for he had understood her reason for takingthe reins at the start and he had not been insensible of the meaning ofher glances at the beginning of the ride. "You didn't ask me, andbesides I enjoyed seeing you handle them."

  "But you told me you couldn't _ride_," she said reproachfully.

  "I can't," he returned. "That is I never did; not as you people in thiscountry ride." Then he laughed again. "Confess now. Didn't you expectme to jump, back there?"

  "I shall confess nothing," she retorted, sharply. "And hereafter Ishall take nothing for granted."

  On the high ground near the foot of the hill at the canyon's mouth sheasked him to turn around and stop. Willard Holmes had been too muchoccupied with the team and the girl to notice the landscape; and nowthat wonderful view of the Mesa, The King's Basin and the mountainsburst upon him without warning. No sane man could be insensible of thegrandeur of that scene. The man, whose eyes had looked only uponeastern landscapes that bore in every square foot of their limitedrange the evidence of man's presence, was silent--awe-stricken beforethe mighty expanse of desert that lay as it was fashioned by thecreative forces that formed the world. Turning at last from theglorious, ever-changing scenes, wrought in colors of gold and rose andlilac and purple and blue, to the girl whose eyes were fixedquestioningly upon him, he said in a low voice: "Is it always likethis?"

  Barbara nodded. "Always like that, but always changing. It is never thesame, but always the same. Like--like life itself. Do you understand?"

  He turned again to the scene in silent wonder.

  "Do you like my Desert?" she asked, after a little time had passed.

  His mind caught at the expression. "Do you mean to say that that is TheKing's Basin--that we are going _there_ to work?"

  "Why, of course." She laughed uneasily. "Don't you like it?"

  "Like it?" he repeated. "But is there anyone living out there?"

  She was amazed at his words. "Living there? Of course not. But you aregoing to make it so that thousands and thousands can live there--youand the others. Don't you understand?" Her voice expressed a shade ofimpatience.

  "I'm afraid I did not realize," he answered slowly.

  "That's just it!" she cried, thoroughly aroused now and speakingpassionately. "That's just the trouble with you eastern men; you don'trealize. For years the dear old Seer and a few others have been tryingto make you see what a work there is to do out here, and you won't evenlook up from your little old truck patches to give them intelligentattention. You think this King's Basin is big? Why, the Seer says thatif every foot of that land was under cultivation it wouldn't be a posybed beside what there is to do in the West. I suppose you must havedone some great things in your profession, Mr. Holmes, or thosecapitalists wouldn't have sent you out here; but you can't have doneanything that will mean to the world what the reclamation of The King'sBasin Desert will mean one hundred years from now, because this work isgoing to make the people realize, don't you see?"

  The young engineer's face flushed under her words, and as he watchedher strong face glowing with enthusiasm for the Seer's dream, he feltthe sweet power of her personality sweep over him as he felt the breezefrom off the desert. He was held as though by some magic spell--not bythe lure of her splendid womanhood, but by that and somethingelse--something that was like the country of which she spoke sopassionately. And he remembered wondering if this girl could talk!

  He relieved the tense strain of the situation by holding out the reinsand saying, with a whimsical smile:

  "Here, you can drive."

  She caught his meaning and smiled in acknowledgment. "Thank you, but Idon't want to drive. That's really the man's part, you know. Isuppose," she added, "that you think me bold and mannish and coarse andeverything else that a girl ought not to be, but I"--she turned awayher face and her voice trembled--"but you can't understand, Mr. Holmes,what this desert means to me."

  "Perhaps I don't understand," he said seriously. "But I am sure ofthis: somewhere back of every really great work that has ever beenaccomplished in any age there has been a woman like you."

  Then they drove back to the hotel where she left him and drove to thebarn herself. A few minutes later he saw her pass again, riding her ownquick-stepping horse.

  During the two weeks that followed before the Seer's return, while AbeLee was busy getting ready for the work in Barbara's Desert, WillardHolmes and the girl were often together. The man from New York admittedsomewhat proudly, Barbara thought--as if the very confession somehowestablished the superiority of the East--that he was shockinglyignorant of all things Western. But apparently overlooking the subtleassumption in the manner of his confession, she laughingly undertookhis education. For one thing he must learn to ride.

  "Really," he demurred, "I don't think I care for that particularamusement. I have never taken it up at home, you know, but of course ifit is the thing to do, why--"

  "Amusement!" she laughed. "Riding isn't an amusement; it's a necessity.The horse is our street car and railroad and steamboat. Where you thinkcity blocks and squares we think miles; and where you think miles wethink hundreds of miles. Two legs are not enough in this country, so wedouble the number and go on four. You'll find yourself wishing foreight before you get back from The King's Basin."

  So, at her bidding, Texas Joe secured a horse for him and almost everyafternoon the two were in their saddles. And every night over hisevening cigar at the hotel the engineer found himself reviewing theincidents and conversations of the ride; forced to wonder at some newand unexpected revelation of the mind and character of this westerngirl who was so interested in the reclamation work an
d so unconsciousof her womanly power. He came quickly to look forward to their hourstogether and to plan and carry out many conversational experiments.Invariably he had his reward.

  One afternoon he tried skillfully to shape the conversation to the endthat he might tell her--quite without ostentation--of the proud historyand social position of his family and of his own rank in the uppereastern world.

  She humored him patiently, helping him out with questions and artless,admiring exclamations and comments, until he was quite sure that shewas properly impressed. Then she said, in a tone of honest sympathy:"But you mustn't let all this worry you, you know."

  "Worry me?" he echoed in amazement.

  She nodded seriously, but with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Yes, Ican understand that it must be hard for a man to do his workhandicapped as you are but no one away out here will count it againstyou. Every man here has a chance no matter what his past has been. Yousee, we don't care what a man has been or what his fathers were; weaccept him for what he is and value him for what he can do. So all youneed to do is to forget and go straight ahead with your work and you'lleasily live it down. Only, of course," she added gently, "I wouldn'tadvise you to tell _everybody_ what you have told me. Some might notunderstand."

  He retorted warmly: "Of course you cannot understand our point of view.Everything is so new and raw out here that you have no socialstandards."

  "New and raw?" She laughed again. "Why, Mr. Holmes, you are the onlynew thing in this country. Do you see that man over there?"

  They were riding south on the road that follows the river and shepointed to an Indian who sat idly in the shade of his pole and mud hut.

  "What's the matter with him?" asked the engineer.

  "Nothing. Only he, too, has ancestors. Ages and ages before yourforefathers knew that this continent existed, that man's people livedin a city not far from here--a city with laws, customs, religions,social standards--yes, and civil engineers, for you can easily tracethe lines of their canals, in which they brought water from the riverand carried it through a tunnel in the mountains to irrigate theirland, just as you modern engineers are planning to do. The Seer and Irode over there once and he told me about it. I'll show you, if youlike. _New_! Why the West was ages old before the East was discovered!The Seer says that if Columbus had come first to the western coast NewEngland to-day would still be an uninhabitable, howling wilderness."

  "But I don't see what all this has to do with social standards," hesaid, nettled at her reply.

  "Simply this. If a man's position in life is to be fixed by the age ofhis family or the number of years that they have occupied a certainsection of the country, then that Indian is your superior. Hisancestors lived here long before yours settled in New England."

  "But we are proud of our ancestors because of what they were and whatthey accomplished. We have a right to be. Think of what the world owesthem!"

  "Oh, I must have misunderstood you. You seemed to place so muchemphasis on their having come over in the Mayflower. They _were_grand--those brave old pioneers. I am proud of them too for what theywere. And did they have social positions by which they fixed a man'splace in life, I wonder?"

  "Of course they could not have had a society with the wealth andculture that we have now. The country was all new--something like theWest is to-day, I suppose."

  She laughed aloud. "And you are proud of them! How fine! Isn't itsplendid to think that in two or three hundred years, when the West hasbeen civilized and the Desert reclaimed as your pioneer forefatherscivilized and reclaimed the East, when wealth and culture have come, aman's social standing will be determined by his relation to _us_ andpeople will be proud of what _we_ are doing? After all, Mr. Holmes, theonly difference between the East and the West seems to be that you_have_ ancestors and that we are _going to be_ ancestors. You look backto what has been; we look forward to what will be. You are proud andtake rank because of what your forefathers did; we are proud and takerank because of what we are doing. And we are doing exactly what theydid! Honestly now, which would you rather--worship an ancestor or be anancestor worshipped?"

  When they had laughed together over this he said: "I am beginning tounderstand, Miss Worth, that the ideal American, whom we are alwayshearing about but never meet, must be a Westerner; he couldn't possiblybe of the East, could he?" His words were almost a sneer.

  "The ideal American is neither Eastern nor Western in the way you mean,Mr. Holmes. He is both."

  "Indeed? You admit that we of the East could give him something, then?"

  "You could give him all that your forefathers have given you."

  "And what could the West give him?"

  She looked at him steadily a moment before answering slowly: "I thinkyou will have to find that out for yourself."

  He was taken a little aback by her answer. It sounded as though shewished to end the conversation. But her talk had stirred him strongly,though he tried to hide this under cover of a cynical tone. He saidtriumphantly: "But you see, after all, you admit that one is notaltogether hopeless because he happens to come of a good family!"

  "Certainly I admit it!" she cried, "but don't you see what I mean?Ancestors are to be counted as a valuable asset, but not as workingcapital."

  As she spoke she turned toward him again with that steady look, and theman felt the strange, mysterious power of her personality, thechallenging lure of her young womanhood--that and more. What was itback of those steady eyes that called to him, inspired him, that almostfrightened him; that made him feel as Barbara herself felt in thepresence of the Desert.

  There was no trace of cynicism in his voice now, nor any hint of asneer on his face, as Willard Holmes straightened unconsciously in hissaddle.

  "By George!" he said, "it's good to hear you say those things. Nobodytalks that way nowadays. I suppose our great-great-grandmothers did,though."

  She colored with pleasure, but answered lightly: "That puts me a longways behind the times, doesn't it?"

  "Or a long way ahead," he offered.

  In the meantime, while the education of Willard Holmes progressed, theparty that was to make the first survey in Barbara's Desert was beingformed and equipped under the direction of Abe Lee. Horses, mules,wagons, camp outfits and supplies, with Indian and Mexican laborers,teamsters of several nationalities and here and there a Chinese cook,were assembled. Toward the last from every part of the great Westcountry came the surveyors and engineers--sunburned, khaki-clad menmost of them, toughened by their out-of-doors life, overflowing withhealth and good spirits. They hailed one another joyously and greetedAbe with extravagant delight, overwhelming him with questions. For theword had gone out that the Seer, beloved by all the tribe, and hislieutenant, almost equally beloved, were making "big medicine" in TheKing's Basin Desert. Not a man of them would have exchanged his chanceto go for a crown and scepter.

  The eastern engineer met these hardened professional brotherscordially. He listened to their reminiscences of life and work inmountain, plain and desert with interest, discovering to his surprisethat most of them were eastern born and bred, with technical trainingin the schools with which he was familiar. But their almost boyishenthusiasm over the work ahead, their admiration for the Chief and forAbe Lee he viewed with cold indifference.

  With all his duties Abe found frequent opportunity to report toBarbara, for the girl's interest in every detail of the preparationswas never failing. Her friends protested that they never saw her now attheir little social affairs, for she was always off somewhere with someengineer, and that when they did chance to catch her alone she wouldtalk of nothing but that horrid King's Basin country.

  Every evening, early after supper, the surveyor would slip away fromhis companions at the hotel to spend an hour on the veranda at thebanker's home talking in his straightforward way with Barbara and herfather, of the work that was so dear to the heart of the girl. Andbecause it was his work and in the nature of a report to one who, hefelt, had in some subtle way authority to hear, Abe tal
ked with afreedom that would have astonished many of his friends who thought theyknew him best.

  Three times while Abe was there Willard Holmes appeared, and each time,at the engineer's presence, the surveyor's painful diffidence becameapparent and he soon--with some stammering excuse--left.

  The last time this happened Barbara walked down to the gate with thepainfully embarrassed surveyor. Everything was in readiness for thecoming of the Chief, who would arrive the next day, and the followingmorning the expedition would start for the field.

  "Buenos noches, hermano--Good night, brother," called Barbara, as thetall surveyor walked away down the street.

  "Buenos noches," came the answer.

  Willard Holmes heard and frowned. "You seem to be very fond of Spanish,Miss Worth," he said, when the girl came back to the porch. "I noticeyou use it so often with our long friend there."

  Barbara laughed at his evident displeasure. "The language seems tobelong so to this country. To me its colors are all soft and warm likethe colors of the Desert. I never thought of it before, but I suppose Iuse it so often with Abe because he, too, seems to belong to thiscountry."

  The engineer looked at her curiously. "I don't think I quite see theconnection. You mean that he has Spanish blood?"

  "Not at all," said Barbara quickly. "But he is desert-born anddesert-trained. He has the same patient stillness, the same naturalbigness and the same unconquerable hardness."

  "Oh, but you say the desert is not unconquerable; that it will besubdued. Your analogy is at fault."

  "No, Mr. Holmes, it is you who do not understand. There is somethingabout this country that will always remain as it is now. Abe Lee islike that. Whatever changes may come, he will always be Abe Lee of theDesert."

  "Your views are really poetical and your character analyses veryclever, Miss Worth, but after all men are men wherever you find them.Human nature is the same the world over."

  "Oh, I'm sure that is so, Mr. Holmes. I know there must be many westernmen in the east, only they haven't found themselves yet."

  He laughed heartily as he rose to go. "Will you ever bid me good nightin your language of the desert?" he asked.

  "Perhaps, when you have learned that language," she said with ananswering smile.

  "By George, I shall try to learn it," he answered.

  "Oh, I wish you would," came the earnest answer. "I know you could."

  And again the engineer felt strongly, back of her words, that unvoicedappeal. As he went down the street he knew that she did not refer tothe Spanish tongue when she wished him to learn the language of herDesert.

  Alone in her room that night Barbara's mind was too active for sleepand she sat for a long time by the open window, looking out into thevast silent world under the still stars.

  Until she introduced herself to Willard Holmes, Barbara had never knowneastern people. Tourists she had seen and, at rare intervals, met in acasual way. But they had always examined her with such frankly curiouseyes that she had felt like some strange animal on exhibition and hadrepaid their interest with all the indifference she could command.Occasionally also she had been introduced to eastern business men, whomshe chanced upon talking with her father in the bank, but they hadturned quickly away to the matters of their world after the usualpolite nothings demanded by the introduction. The home-land and life ofWillard Holmes were as foreign to her as her land and life were strangeto him.

  So it happened in this instance also that in the education of theeastern engineer the teacher learned quite as much as the pupil.

  The traits that stood out so prominently in the western men whomBarbara knew and so much admired were, in Willard Holmes, buried deeplyunder the habits and customs of the life and thought of the world towhich he belonged--buried so deeply that the man himself scarcelyrealized that they were there and so was led to wonder at himself whenhis blood tingled with some strong presentation of this western girl'sviews.

  But Barbara knew. Beneath the conventionalities of his class the girlfelt the man a powerful character, with all the latent strength of hisnation-building ancestors. She wanted him--as she put it to herself--towake up. Would he? Would he learn the language of her Desert? Shebelieved that he would, even as she believed in the reclamation of TheKing's Basin lands.

  And she was glad--glad that the Seer and Abe and Tex and Pat and herfather--the men who had brought her out of the Desert--were going nowback into that land of death to save that land itself from itself.And--she whispered it softly under the stars--she was glad--glad thatWillard Holmes had come to go with them--to learn the language of herland.