The Branding Iron

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by Katharine Newlin Burt


  CHAPTER III

  JANE

  After that night, there began a sort of persecution, skillfullyconducted by Jasper and Betty, against the ferocity of Jane. It was apersecution impossible to imagine in any other setting, even the socialsimplicity of Lazy-Y found itself a trifle amused. For Jasper, thestately Jewish figure, would carry pails of water for Jane from thewell to the kitchen, would help her in the vegetable garden, and tostraighten out her recalcitrant stove-pipe; Betty would put on an aprona mile too large, to wash dishes and shell peas. She would sit on thekitchen table swinging her long, childlike legs and chatter amiably.Jasper talked, too, to the virago, talked delightfully, about horsesand dogs,--he had a charming gift of humorous observation,--talkedabout hunting and big-game shooting, about trapping, about travel, and,at last, about plays. Undoubtedly Jane listened. Sometimes she laughed.Once in a while she ejaculated, musically, "Well!" Occasionally sheswore.

  One afternoon he met her riding home from an errand to a neighboringranch, and, turning his horse, rode with her. In worn corduroy skirt,flannel shirt, and gray sombrero, she looked like a handsome, haggardboy, and, that afternoon, there was a certain unusual wistfulness inher eyes, and her mouth had relaxed a little from its bitterness.Perhaps it was the beauty of a clear, keen summer day; without doubt,also, she was touched by the courteous pleasure of his greeting and byhis giving up his ride in order to accompany her. She even unbent fromher silence and, for the first time, really talked to him. And shespoke, too, in a new manner, using her beautiful voice with beautifulcarefulness. It was like a master-musician who, after a long illness,takes up his beloved instrument and tentatively tests his shakenpowers. Jasper had much ado to keep his surprise to himself, for therough ranch girl could speak pure enough English if she would.

  "You and your wife are leaving soon?" she asked him, and, when henodded, she gave a sigh. "I'll be missing you," she said, throwingaway her _brusquerie_ like a rag with which she was done. "You've beencompany for me. You've made use of lots of patience and courage, but Ihave really liked it. I've not got the ways of being sociable and Idon't know that I want ever to get them. I am not seeking for friends.There isn't another person on the ranch that would dare talk to me asyou and Mrs. Morena have talked. They don't know anything about mehere and I don't mean that they should know." She paused, then gaveway to an impulse of confidence. "One of the boys asked me to marryhim. He came and shouted it through the window and I caught him with apan of water." She sighed. "I don't know rightly if he meant it for ajoke or not, but the laugh wasn't on me."

  Jasper controlled his laughter, then saw the dry humor of her eyes andlips and let out his mirth.

  "Why, sir," said Jane, "you'd be surprised at the foolishness of men.Sometimes it seems that, just for pure contrariness, they want tomarry her that least wants them about. The day I came tramping intothis valley, I stopped for food at the ranch of an old bachelor downyonder at the ford. And he invited me to be his wife while I wasdrinking a glass of water from his well. He told me how much money hehad and said he'd start my stove for me winter mornings. There's agood husband! And he was sure kind to me even when I told him 'no.' 'Twas that same evening that the boy from Lazy-Y rode in and claimed mefor a cook. Mr. Yarnall is a trusting man. He took me and didn't askany questions. I told him I was 'Jane' and that I wasn't planning tolet him know more. He hasn't asked me another question since. He's agentleman, I figure it, and he's kind of quiet himself about what hewas before he came to this country. He's a man of fifty and he haslots back of him only he's taken a fresh start." She sighed, "Folkslike you and Betty seem awfully open-hearted. It's living in cities, Isuppose, where every one knows every one else so well."

  This astonishing picture of the candid simplicity of New York's sociallife absorbed Jasper's attention for some time.

  "Wouldn't you like to live in a city, Jane?"

  She laughed her short, boyish "Hoo!" "It isn't what I would like, Mr.Morena," she said. "Why, I'd like to see the world. I would like to bethat fellow who was condemned to wander all over the earth and neverto die. He was a Jew, too, wasn't he?"

  Jasper flushed. People were not in the habit of making directreference to his nationality, and, being an Israelite who had earlycut himself off with dislike from his own people and cultivated thesociety of Gentiles, "a man without a country," he was acutelysensitive.

  "The Wandering Jew? Yes. Where did you ever hear of him?"

  "I read his story," she answered absently; "an awful long one, butinteresting, about lots of people, by Eugene Sue."

  Jasper's lips fell apart and he stared. She had spoken unwittingly andhe could see that she was not thinking of him, that she was far away,staring beyond her horse's head into the broad, sunset-brightenedwest.

  "Where were you schooled?" he asked her.

  He had brought her back and her face stiffened. She gave him astartled, almost angry look, dug her heels into her horse and brokeinto a gallop; nor could he win from her another word.

  A few days before he left, he took Yarnall into his confidence. Atfirst the rancher would do nothing but laugh. "Jane on the boards!That's a notion!" followed by explosion after explosion of mirth. TheJew waited, patient, pliant, smiling, and then enumerated his reasons.He talked to Yarnall for an hour, at the end of which time, Yarnall,his eyes still twinkling, sent for Jane.

  The two men sat in a log-walled room, known as the office. Yarnall'sbig desk crowded a stove. There was no other furniture except shelvesand a box seat beneath a window. Jasper sat on the end of the desk,swinging his slim, well-booted leg; Yarnall, stocky, gray, shabby,weather-beaten, leaned back in his wicker chair. The door which Jasperfaced was directly behind Yarnall. When Jane opened it, he turned.

  The girl looked grim and a little pale. She was evidently frightened.This summons from Yarnall suggested dismissal or reproof. She camearound to face him and stood there, looking fierce and graceful, herhead lowered, staring gloomily at him from under her brows. To Jaspershe gave not so much as a glance.

  "Well, Jane, I fancy I shall have to let you go," said Yarnall. He wasnot above tormenting the wild-cat. Female ferocity always excites theteasing boy in a man. "You're getting too ambitious for us. You see,once these rich New Yorkers take you up, you're no more use to a plainranchman like me."

  "What are you drivin' at?" asked Jane.

  "Do let me explain it to her, Yarnall!" Jasper snapped his elasticfingers, color had risen to his face, and he looked annoyed. "MissJane, won't you sit down?"

  Jane turned her deep, indignant eyes upon him. "Are you and your wifethe rich New Yorkers he says are takin' me up?"

  "No, no. He's joking. This is a serious business. It's of vitalimportance to me and it ought to be of vital importance to you. Pleasedo sit down!"

  Jane took a long step back and sat down on the settle under the long,horizontal window. She folded her hands on her knee and looked up atMorena. She had transferred her attention completely to him. Yarnallwatched them. He was an Englishman of much experience and this pictureof the skillful, cultivated, handsome Jew angling deftly for thegaunt, young savage diverted him hugely. He screwed up his eyes to geta picture of it.

  "I am a producer and manager of plays," said Jasper, "which means thatI take a play written by a more gifted man and arrange it for thestage. Have you ever seen a play?"

  "No, sir."

  "But you have some idea what they are?"

  "Yes. I have read them. Shakespeare wrote quite a lot of that kind oftalking pieces, didn't he?"

  Jasper was less surprised than Yarnall. "At present I have a play onmy hands which is a very brilliant and promising piece of work, butwhich I have been unable to produce for lack of a heroine. There isn'tan actress on my list that can take the part and do it justice. Now,Miss Jane, I believe that with some training you could take it toperfection. My wife and I would like to take you to New York, payingall your expenses, of course, and put you into training at once. Itwould take a year's hard work to get you fitted for the
part. Thennext fall we could bring out the play and I think I can promise yousuccess and fame and wealth in no small measure. I don't know you verywell; I don't know whether or not you are ambitious; but I do knowthat every woman must love beauty and ease and knowledge andexperience. For what else," he smiled, "did Eve eat the apple? Allthese you can have if you will let us take you East. Of course, if Ifind you cannot take this part, I will hold myself accountable foryou. I will not let you be a loser in any way by the experiment. Withyour beauty"--Yarnall fell back in his chair and gaped from theexcited speaker to the silent listener--"and your extraordinary voice,and your magnetism, you must be especially fitted for a career of somekind. I promise to find you your career."

  Every drop of blood had fallen from Jane's face and the rough hands onher knee were locked together.

  "What part," she asked in a quick, low voice, "is this that you thinkI could learn to do?"

  Jasper changed his position. He came nearer and spoke more rapidly."It is the story of a girl, a savage girl, whom a man takes up andtrains. He trains her as a professional might train a lioness. It is apassion with him to break spirits and shape them to his will. Hetrains her with coaxing and lashing--not actual lashing, though Ibelieve in one place he does come near to beating her--and he gets herbroken so that she lies at his feet and eats out of his hand. Allthis, you understand, while he's an exile from his own world. Then, inthe second act,--that is the second part of the play,--he takes histamed lioness back to civilization. They go to London and there thewoman does his training infinite credit. She is extraordinarilybeautiful; she is civilized, successful, courted. Her eccentricitiesonly add to her charm. So it goes on very prettily for a while. Thenhe makes a mistake. He blunders very badly. He gives his lioness causefor jealousy and--to come to the point--she flies at his throat. Yousee, he hadn't really tamed her. She was under the skin, a lioness, abeast, at heart."

  Jasper had been absorbed in the plot and had not noticed Jane, butYarnall for several minutes had been leaning forward, his handstightened on the arms of his chair. The instant Jasper stopped he heldup his hand.

  "Quiet, Jane," he said softly as a man might speak to a plunginghorse. "Steady!"

  Jane got to her feet. She was very white. She put up her hand andpressed the back of it against her forehead and from under this handshe looked at the two men with eyes of such astonished pain and beautyas they could never forget.

  "Yes," she said presently; "that's something I _could_ do."

  At once Jasper hastened to retrieve his error. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'vebeen horribly clumsy. Do forgive me. Do let me explain. I didn't meanthat you were a wild--"

  She let the hand fall and held it up to stop his speech. "I'm nottaking offense, Mr. Morena," she said. "You say you arrange plays andthat you have been seeking for some one to play that girl, thatlioness-girl who wasn't rightly tamed, though the man had done hisworst to break her?"

  Jasper nodded with a puzzled, anxious air. For all his skill andsubtlety, he could not interpret her tone.

  "And you think I'm beautiful?"

  "My dear child, I know you are," said he. "You try to disguise it. AndI know that in many other ways you disguise yourself. I think you makea great mistake. Your work is hard and rough--"

  She smiled. "I'm not complaining of my work," she said. "It's roughand so am I. Oh, yes, I'm real, true rough. I was born to roughnessand raised to it. I'm not anything I don't seem, Mr. Morena. I've hadrough travel all my days, only--only--" She sat down again, twistingher hands painfully in her apron and bending her face down from thesight of the two men. The line of her long, bent neck was a beautifulthing to see. She spoke low and rapidly, holding down her emotion,though she could not control all the exquisite modulations of hervoice. "There's only one part of my travel that I want to forget andthat's the one smooth bit. And it's hateful to me and you've beenreminding me of it. I must tell you now that I'd rather be burnt by awhite-hot iron"--here she gave him a wide and horrified look like achild who speaks of some dreadful remembered punishment--"than do thatthing you've asked of me. I hate everything you've been telling meabout. I don't want to be beautiful. I don't want any one to betelling me such things. I don't want to be any different from what Iam now. This is my real self. It is. I hate beauty. I hate it. I'm notgood enough to love it. Beauty and learning and--and music--"

  Her head had been bending lower and lower, her voice rocking under itsweight of restrained anguish. On the word "music" she dropped her headto her knees and was silent.

  "I can't talk no more," she said, after a moment, and she stood up andran out of the room.

  "I'll be d----d!" swore Yarnall.

  But Jasper stood, his face pale, smiting one hand into the other.

  "I feel that I, at least, deserve to be," he said.

 

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