The Winning of Barbara Worth

by Harold Bell Wright

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  ABE LEE'S RIDE TO SAVE JEFFERSON WORTH.

  The evening that Jefferson Worth spent in the San Felipe hotel lobby,apparently absorbed in his paper while Greenfield, Holmes andCartwright with their New York friends were enjoying their dinner,Barbara and her court had their anxious supper together in the Worthhome.

  The night that followed was one of wakeful readiness on the part of themen who guarded the Worth property. But the strikers seemed content tocurse and threaten. Breakfast the next morning, in spite of Barbara'sefforts at cheerfulness, was a gloomy meal. Worn with their anxiousvigil the men ate in silence, save when they forced themselves torespond to their young hostess's attempts at conversation. They knewthat another day of idleness would fit the striking laborers forreckless action.

  When the meal was over Barbara insisted that they must get some sleep.They protested, but she argued rightly that there was nothing else thatthey could do and that they must keep themselves fit for a possibleneed of their strength later. So she brought comforts and blankets fora bed on the floor in the little sitting room and, drawing the shades,announced that she would take her sewing to the front porch while theyslept.

  Three hours passed and a boy arrived from the telegraph office with amessage addressed to Abe Lee. Speaking in low tones that the tired menwithin might not be disturbed, Barbara said that she would hand themessage to Mr. Lee, who was in the house, and signed her name in thebook. Then as the boy went down the walk the young woman, withtrembling fingers, tore open the yellow envelope.

  The message read: "Money to-day by wire from Tenth National Bank, NewYork. Pay men and go on with work. I leave for home to-night ten-thirty.

  Jefferson Worth."

  Barbara and her Desert had won against the Company through WillardHolmes, but Barbara did not know that.

  Behind her, as she stood with the yellow slip in her hand, the sittingroom door opened softly and turning she saw Abe standing on thethreshold. The alert surveyor had been aroused by the coming of themessenger. Even before she spoke her face told him the good news.

  Abe went at once to notify the strikers that they would receive theirpay on the morrow without fail. To several of the leaders he exhibitedthe telegram with Mr. Worth's instructions: "Pay men and go on withwork," and they in turn verified to their countrymen the good news. Asthe word went around, the dark scowling faces were lighted withsatisfaction and pleased anticipation, curses and threats were silencedin laughter and merry talk. In a short hour or two the little army ofstriking laborers that had for days been in a mood for any violencebecame a good natured crowd bent on enjoying to the full their shortholiday.

  Barbara insisted on serving dinner for her three friends, and with thestrike practically settled and the weary strain of the situationremoved the four made the meal a jolly one. When they could eat no morethey still sat idling at the table, reluctant to break the spell oftheir companionship.

  Texas Joe, leaning back in his chair, with his slow smile drawled in aninconsequential way: "I reckon, now that the financial obsequies of Mr.Jefferson Worth has been indefinitely postponed owin' to the corpserefusin' to perform, that Company bunch will wear mournin' because saidfuneral didn't come off as per schedule. Them roosters are sure ahumorous lot."

  "Of course they will be sorry, Uncle Tex," said Barbara. "It's GoodBusiness, you know, to want your competitor to fail."

  The old plainsman shook his head. "I sure don't sabe this financierin'game, honey, but I'm stakin' my pile on your dad just the same."

  "Well," said Pat, "we're all glad on Mr. Worth's account, av course,that ut's over as aisy as ut is. But for mesilf, av ut was all the sameto him an' to ye Barbara, I'd be wishin' the danged greasers 'd kape ona shtrikin' so long as ye wud lave me put my fate under yer table."

  They all laughed at Pat's sentiments, which the other two men endorsedmost heartily. Then the surveyor with his two helpers went up town.

  Stopping at the bank and showing the cashier his message from Mr.Worth, Abe asked if he had heard from New York.

  Before answering, the man picked up a telegram from his desk andscanned it thoughtfully. "No," said Greenfield's cashier, as if againsthis will; "we have heard nothing to-day."

  Just before the close of banking hours the surveyor again called at thebank. "Any news from New York yet?"

  "Yes. We had their wire just after you left."

  "Well?" asked Abe impatiently. "Isn't it all right?"

  "It's all right, Mr. Lee, except that we were forced to answer that wecould not handle the business."

  The surveyor searched his pockets for tobacco and cigarette papers. "Ithink you'd better explain, Mr. Williams."

  Again the cashier hesitated, turning thoughtfully to the telegram onhis desk. Then he said reluctantly: "It is Mr. Greenfield's orders,Lee."

  With a cloud of smoke from Abe's lips came the question: "And the otherbanks in the Basin?"

  "You would only waste your time."

  "Thanks, Williams. Adios."

  Abe Lee walked slowly out of the building. Moving aimlessly down thestreet, unseeing and unheeding, he ran fairly into Pat and Texas, whowere talking with a rancher from the South Central District.

  The voice of the Irishman aroused him. "Fwhat the hell! Is ut dhrunk yeare?" Then, as he caught a good look at the surveyor's face--"For thelove av Gawd, fwhat's wrong wid ye, lad?"

  The rancher also was looking at him curiously. Abe gained control ofhimself instantly with an apologetic laugh. "Excuse me, Pat. I wasthinking about the work and didn't see you. There's a little matterthat I want to take up with you this afternoon. I'll be too busy for itto-morrow."

  The rancher, with another word or two, turned away. Then Abe, in a lowtone, exclaimed: "Let's get away from the crowd quick, where we cantalk."

  They started down the street and instinctively their feet turned towardJefferson Worth's home instead of toward the office. As they went Abeexplained the situation. Pat cursed the bank and James Greenfield andthe Company with no light weight curses.

  "Hell will sure be a-poppin' when them greasers don't get their paychecks, as we've been promisin' them," drawled Texas Joe, shaking hishead mournfully. "For regular unexpectedness this here financierin'business gets me plumb locoed. What will you do, Abe? Greenfield suretakes this trick, don't he?"

  They had reached the gate of the Worth home and had paused as peoplesometimes will when engaged in conversation of absorbing interest.Before Abe could answer Texas, Barbara, who sat on the porch, calledlaughingly: "What's the matter with you men? Are you hungry again? Whydon't you come in?"

  In consternation the three looked blankly at each other. Pat growledanother curse under his breath. Texas shook his head doubtfully. Abegroaned: "She'll have to know, boys."

  Slowly they went up the walk and Barbara, as they drew near, did notneed words to tell her that something seriously wrong had happened.

  When Abe had explained it in as few words as possible she said: "But itwill only be for a few days."

  "A few days will be too late," said Abe bluntly. "We have promisedthese greasers and Indians that we will pay to-morrow without fail.When we don't pay, on top of all the trouble we have had, noexplanation will stand. They'll go on the warpath sure. If they werewhite men it would be different."

  "Well, why don't you telegraph father and let him bring the money orsend it by express from San Felipe?"

  "But he couldn't get the cash started before to-morrow afternoon. Thenit would have to go around by the city and wouldn't get here untilthree days later. Williams didn't tell me, you see, until he knew thatthe San Felipe bank would be closed before I could, get a messagethrough."

  They sat in troubled silence--Pat in sullen rage, Texas squatting onhis heels cow-boy fashion, Abe pulling at a cigarette, Barbara leaningforward in her chair. Three hours before they had been so merry becausethe trouble was over; now they faced a situation many times moreperilous than before.

  With a quick gesture of decision
Abe tossed aside his cigarette. "Tex,where is that buckskin horse of yours?"

  "In Clark's stable. Want him?"

  "Yes. Give him a good feed and bring him here as soon as he is ready.Bring one feed and a canteen, and while the horse is eating go aroundto my room and get my gun."

  Without a question the old plainsman left the group and walked swiftlyaway.

  Barbara puzzled for a moment then asked: "Are you sending Tex to SanFelipe for the money, Abe?"

  "I am going myself. Tex will be needed here. He's worth three of me atthis end of the game. To-day is Wednesday. That buckskin will make itto San Felipe in twenty-six hours. That will be to-morrow evening. Ifyour father can have the money ready I should be back here by Fridaynight."

  While speaking he was tearing a leaf from his note book. Quickly hewrote a message to Jefferson Worth. "Pat, take this to the telegraphoffice and make them rush it. It must catch Mr. Worth before he leavesat ten-thirty to-night."

  Barbara sprang to her feet. "Oh, please let me go. Let me do something."

  Abe handed her the slip of paper with a smile. "If you don't mind Iwill take a nap in your father's room. And will you ask Ynez to have abite to eat ready for me with a sandwich or two that I can slip into mypocket. Pat, you stay here and don't let anyone disturb me untilfive-thirty. Then call me sure. Tex will be here with the horse by thattime." With the last word he disappeared into the house.

  When Pat called him he was sleeping soundly. Barbara had sent thetelegram and with her own hands prepared his supper and a lunch. Whilehe ate, the surveyor gave brief instructions to his two helpers.

  Then Barbara went with him to the gate where the buckskin horse, one ofthat tough, wiry, half-wild breed native to the western plains, waited,head down with bridle reins hanging to the ground. As Abe tightened thecinch and took his spurs from the saddle horn, the girl went closer tohis side. "I wish you did not have to go," she said as he stooped toput on a spur.

  He straightened up and looked at her. The brown eyes regarded himseriously. "Why, Barbara! you are not afraid? Texas and Pat will behere."

  "It's not myself, Abe; it's you," she answered. "You have had such ahard time since this trouble began and now this long, lonely ride. Iwish there was some other way."

  Stooping quickly so that she might not see his face he adjusted theother spur with trembling fingers.

  "I shall think of you every minute, Abe," said the young woman softly.

  The strap of the spur required several ineffectual efforts before theman could fasten it on the steel button. At length it was on and,rising again, he threw the bridle reins over the horse's head, holdingthem in his left hand on the animal's neck. Barbara came still closerand with her finger traced the design carved on the heavy Mexicansaddle. "You will be careful, won't you, Abe?"

  The hand on the horse's neck tightened on the reins as the surveyorlooked straight into the young woman's eyes a moment as if searchingfor something that he knew was not there. Then he held out his freehand, saying in Spanish with a smile: "Adios, sister."

  Giving him her hand she answered in the same soft musical tongue:"Adios, my brother."

  Turning he put his foot in the stirrup and, with the easy gracefulswing of the western horseman, he mounted and the buckskin, as hisrider lifted the bridle reins, struck at once into the long lazy lopeof his kind.

  Leisurely Abe Lee rode along the main street of the little town. Thestrikers, idling in front of the stores, leaning against the buildingsor awning posts, squatting on their heels on the sidewalks, or sittingin rows on the curbing, saw him pass without interest. If they thoughtanything it was that the superintendent was going to Kingston on somebusiness or other for their employer, Senor Worth, or that to-morrowthe man on the buckskin horse would give them the slips of paper thatthey would take to the senor at the bank, who would give them theirmoney.

  Still riding leisurely, Abe left behind the town that Jefferson Worthhad built in the barren desert and passed the newly improved ranches onthe outskirts. Without hurry, even checking his horse to a shufflingfox-trot at times, he reached Kingston.

  From the window of his office in the Company building Mr. Burk saw thehorseman as he passed, and the Company manager, who was paid forthinking, shifted his cigar to one corner of his mouth and, tilting hishead, grew thoughtful while the buckskin horse carried his rider out ofKingston toward the south.

  Reaching the old San Felipe trail the surveyor swung his horse to thewest and, leaving behind all that man had so far wrought in La Palma dela Mano de Dios, rode straight toward the mountain wall that in grimbarrenness and forbidding solitude had stood sentinel through theunnumbered ages, shutting out from the land of death the world of lifethat lay on the other side. As that mighty wall had from the beginningturned back every moisture-laden cloud from the thirsty, starving land,so it seemed now to impose itself as an impassable barrier against theman who rode to save the work of Jefferson Worth.

  The buckskin horse, as if realizing that this was no jaunt of ten ortwenty miles, held to his steady, machine-like lope that measured thedistance of each swing with the accurate regularity of a pendulum;while the lean, loose body of his rider, resting easily in the saddle,yielded without resistance to the horse's every movement so that thoselaboring muscles, working so smoothly under the yellow hide, might notbe called upon to adjust themselves to the sudden strain of unexpectedchanges in balance. Mile after mile of the dun plain slipped away underthose apparently slow-measuring hoofs at surprising speed. Now andthen, at the slightest signal from Abe, the gait was changed from alope to that easy shuffling fox-trot that lifted the dust in a greatyellow cloud.

  Straight ahead the rider saw the sun go slowly down behind the mountainwall. He watched the purple shadows that he knew were canyons deepen,and the blue that he knew to be shoulders and spurs and points changeand darken until every detail was lost in the slate gray mass, whileagainst the light that lingered in the west every tooth, knob and peakof the sky-line showed a sharp, clean-cut silhouette. He saw the colorsof the desert fade and melt as the dark mantle of the night was drawnquietly over the plain. He heard the night voices of the desertawakening and sensed the soft breathing of the lonely land. And in hisnostrils was the indescribable odor of the ancient sea-bed that, foruncounted thousands of years, had lain under a blazing sun andscorching wind and mistless nights, knowing no touch of human life savethe passing presence of those who dared to follow that one thin trail.

  And always with that dogged regularity the sandy miles were beingmeasured by those steady hoofs. At Wolf Wells, as the last faint tingeof light went out of the sky beyond the black mass of No Man'sMountains, Abe drew rein for the first time. Dismounting, he slippedthe bit from the horse's mouth and the animal plunged his nose deepinto the refreshing water. The buckskin, with the blood of his wildancestors strong in his veins, was no dainty, tenderly-nourishedaristocrat that needed to be rested, cooled and blanketed before hecould slake his thirst. Without pausing he drank his fill and then,lifting his head, drew one long, deep breath of satisfaction and stoodready.

  In the dark Abe felt his saddle girths, then ran his hand over themoist warm neck and slapped the strong hips approvingly. "Good boy,Buck! Good old boy!" Without thought of further rest they wenton--on--and on, without pause or cheek save the occasional change ingait from the swinging lope to the shuffling fox-trot, until theyreached the line of the ancient beach, and the buckskin, with headdown, labored heavily up the steep grade to the Mesa.

  It was at this point, years before, that the four men and the boy hadstopped to look away over the awe-inspiring scenes of wide sky,measureless plain, rolling sand hills, dream lakes and ever-changingseas of color, all hidden now in the blackness of the night.

  In the dark, hall-like Devil's Canyon the sound of the horse's feetechoed and re-echoed sharply from the rock walls, while the darknesswas so thick that Abe could not see the animal's head.

  At Mountain Spring, where travelers into the desert always filled theirwater barr
els, Abe stopped again. It was a little past midnight.Loosing the saddle girth and removing the bridle, the surveyor let hishorse drink and, taking a sack with his one feed of rolled barley, hedeftly converted it into a rude nose-bag by cutting a strip in eachside two-thirds the length of the sack and tying it over the horse'shead. After eating his own lunch the surveyor stretched himself outflat on his back on the ground with every muscle relaxed. The sound ofthe horse munching his feed ceased; the animal's head dropped lower,and he too--wise in the wisdom of the open country--relaxed his musclesand rested.

  For an hour they remained there, then again the bridle was adjusted,the saddle girths tightened, and they went on. But the gait was not someasured now nor the pace so steady, for they were well into themountains, climbing toward the summit. But still there was no pause forbreath, no relief for the straining muscles of the horse or for theweary aching body of the rider.

  Crossing over the summit at last they were on the long western slope ofthe range with much better going, and the buckskin again carried hisrider swiftly on while the thud and ring of the iron-shod hoofs on therock-strewn road aroused the echoes in the dark and lonely hills.

  Hour after hour of the long night passed with no sound to break thesilence save the sound of the horse's feet, the rattle of bridlechains, the clink of spur or the creak of saddle leather. And when thegray of the morning came they were in the foot hills. Behind them themountains--a bare and forbidding wall on the desert side--lifted ridgeupon ridge with the green of pine on the heights, oak on the slopes andbenches, and sycamore in the lower canyons. Streams of bright watertumbled merrily down their clean rocky courses or rested in quiet poolsin the cold shadows. Before them spread the beautiful Coast country,sloping with many a dip and hollow and rolling ridge and rounding hillwestward to the sea.

  At the first ranch house they stopped. A short hour's rest withbreakfast for man and horse, and they were away again. For dinner Abedrew rein in a beautiful little village in the heart of the richfarming country and at four o'clock, from the summit of a low hill, hesaw the ocean, with the smoke of San Felipe dark against the blue ofsky and water. There were yet three hours of riding. The tired manstraightened himself in the saddle, the horse felt the motion andresponded with a slight quickening of the movements of those wonderfulmuscles that still worked so steadily and smoothly under the buckskincoat. The animal seemed to realize with the man that the end of thejourney was in sight. Yet it would take another hour and another ofthat steady, measured lope and the easy shuffling fox-trot.

  The sun was dipping downward now toward the ocean's rim, and sea andsky were a blaze of glorious light; while on that dazzling backgroundsail and mast and roof and steeple were painted black with edges ofyellow flame. The horse, with the dogged, determined spirit of hisbreed, was drawing upon the last of his strength--the strength that hadbrought them so many miles without faltering. But still he answeredgamely to the lifting of the reins with that measured, swinging lope.

  But as he watched the sun go down, Abe Lee forgot his weariness, forgothis aching muscles and stiffened limbs. He remembered only that milesaway in the little desert town there was a mob of striking Mexicans andIndian laborers who, disappointed and enraged at not receiving theirpromised pay, would be ready now for any deed that promised to satisfytheir blind desire for vengeance. He knew that no explanations would beaccepted. No plea for patience would be heard. They could notunderstand. In their eyes they had been tricked, fooled, cheated,defrauded of their just dues. They knew no better way to redress theirwrongs than the primitive way--to destroy, to injure, perhaps to kill.And Barbara--Barbara was there. If only they would let that one nightpass! If only Tex and Pat and the little handful of white men couldhold them off a few more hours until he could get back.

  Until he could get back! But what if Jefferson Worth had not receivedthe telegram before he left San Felipe? What if there should be a stillfurther delay in getting the money?

  Through the lighted streets of the harbor city the buckskin and hisrider finally made their way. A policeman, looking suspiciously at thedust-begrimed, sweat-caked, trembling horse that stood with legs bracedwide and drooping head, and at the haggard-faced rider, directed thesurveyor to the hotel a block away, and then stood watching them asthey moved slowly toward the end of the ride.