Hope Hathaway: A Story of Western Ranch Life

by Frances Parker

  CHAPTER XX

  Larry O'Hara rode up to Sydney's camp late one afternoon, some two orthree weeks later, and finding the place deserted went in the cook-tentand made himself at home. It had been a long, hot, dusty ride fromHathaway's home-ranch. He had experienced some difficulty in finding theplace, and, having at length reached it, proceeded with his naturaladaptitude to settle himself for a prolonged stay.

  He was a great, handsome, prepossessing young fellow, overflowing withhigh spirits and good-nature. Though a natural born American, he wasstill a typical Irishman, retaining much of the brogue of his Irishparents, which, being more of an attraction in him than otherwise, henever took the trouble to overcome. All the girls were in love withLarry O'Hara, and he, in his great generosity of heart, knew it, andloved them in return.

  His affection for Hope Hathaway was something altogether different, anddated two or three years back when he first saw her skimming across theprairie on an apparently unmanageable horse. He proceeded to do thegallant act of rescuing a lady. For miles he ran the old cow-pony thathad been assigned him, in hot pursuit, and when he had from sheerexhaustion almost dropped to the ground she suddenly turned her horseabout and laughed in his face. It was an awkward situation. Theperspiration streamed from his forehead, his breath came in gasps. Shecontinued laughing. He mopped his face furiously, got control of hisbreath, and exclaimed in deep emotion:

  "Sure and is ridicule all I get when I have followed you for ten mileson this baist of a horse, to offer you a proposition of marriage?"

  Their friendship dated from that moment, and though Larry had renewedhis proposition of marriage every time he had seen her, yet there hadnever been a break in their comradeship.

  He looked about the well-appointed camp with a sigh of contentment. Thiswas something like living, he thought. His enforced confinement at theranch had been slow torture to him. He missed the presence of Hope andSydney, for to him they were the very spirit of the place, and he wasfilled with anxiety to get away from it and join them.

  After washing the dust from his face and hands he went through thecook's mess-box, then, having nothing else to do, laid down for a nap onone of the bunks in the second tent and was soon sleeping peacefully.

  He never knew just how long he slept, though he declared he had notclosed his eyes, when a whispered conversation outside the tent broughthim to his feet with a start. It was suspicious to say the least, and hetore madly at his roll of belongings in search of his revolver, which hefound in his hip-pocket, after he had scattered his clothes from one endof the tent to the other.

  It was not yet dark. The whispers came now from the opposite tent.O'Hara's fighting blood was up. He gloried in the situation. Here washis opportunity to hold up some thieving rascals. It was almost as goodas being a real desperado. It flashed upon him that they might be thereal article, but he would not turn coward. He would show them what oneman could do!

  He peered cautiously out of the tent. Two horses with rough-lookingsaddles stood at the edge of the brush not far away. Larry O'Hara wouldnot be afraid of two men.

  He moved cautiously up to the front of the cook-tent, and throwing openthe flap called out in thundering tones: "Throw up your hands, yethieving scoundrels, or I'll have your loives!"

  A pair of arms shot up near him like a flash, while a choking sound camefrom the farther side of the mess-box. Two startled, pie-be-grimed boysgazed in amazement into the barrel of Larry's gun, which he suddenlylowered, overcome with surprise as great as their own.

  "May heaven preserve us!" he cried. "I thought you were murderingthieves! But if it's only supper you're after, I'll take a hand in itmeself!"

  The soft-voiced twin recovered first.

  "Say, where'd you come from? I thought that was the cook sleepin' inthere an' we wasn't goin' to disturb him to get our supper. What're_you_ doin' 'round here, anyhow?"

  "I'm a special officer of the law, on the lookout for some dangerouscriminals," replied Larry. "But I see I've made a great mistake thistime. It's not kids I'm after! I'll just put this weapon back in mypocket to show that I'm friendly inclined. And now let's have somethingto eat. You boys must know the ins and outs of this place pretty well,for I couldn't find pie here when I came, or anything that looked loikepie. Where'd you make the raise?"

  The boys began to breathe easier, although an "officer of the law" wassomething of which they stood in mortal terror. Yet this particular"officer" seemed quite a jovial sort of a fellow, and they soon reachedthe conclusion that he would be a good one to "stand in" with. Thesoft-voiced twin sighed easily, and settled himself into a familiarposition at the table, remarking as he did so:

  "Oh, we're to home here! This camp belongs to a friend of ourn." Hepulled the pie toward him. "Here, Dave," he said to the other, who hadalso recovered from his surprise, "throw me a knife from over there. Ireckon I ain't a-goin' to eat this here pie with my fingers! An' get outsome plates for him an' you. No use waitin' for the cook to come in an'get our supper. Ain't no tellin' where he's gone."

  "You're a pretty cool kid," remarked O'Hara, helping himself to the pie."I'll take a piece of pie with you for company's sake, though I'minclined to wait for the cook of this establishment. A good, warm mealis more to my liking. Where do you fellows live?"

  "Over here a ways," replied Dan cautiously.

  "Know of any bad men that wants arresting?" continued O'Hara. "I'm inthe business at present."

  "I reckon I do," replied the boy, lowering his voice to a soft, sweettone. "There's a mighty dangerous character I can put you onto if you'llswear you'll never give me away."

  "I'll never breathe a word of it," declared O'Hara; "just point out yourman to me; I'll fix him for you!"

  "What'll you do to him?" asked Dan, in great earnestness. O'Haralaughed.

  "I'll do just whativer you say," he replied. "What's his crime?"

  "Well, I'll tell you," said the boy deliberately, while Dave listened inopen-mouthed wonderment. "He's a bad character, a tough one! He gitsdrunker'n a fool and thinks he runs the earth, an' he licks his childrenif they happen to open their heads! I never seen him steal no horses, erkill anyone, but he's a bad man, just the same, an' needs lockin' up for'bout six months!" Dave, finally comprehending his twin, jumped up anddown, waving his arms wildly above his head.

  "You bet you! Lock him up, that's the checker! Lock the old man in jail,an' we can do just as we want to!" he exclaimed.

  "But you know," said O'Hara impressively, his eyes twinkling withsuppressed merriment, "it's like this. There's a law that says if aman--a _family_ man--be sent to jail for anything less than cold-bloodedmurder, his intire family must go with him to look after him. Didn't youever hear of that new law? Now that would be a bad thing for his boys,poor things! It would be worse than the beating they get. But you justgive Larry O'Hara the tip, and the whole family'll get sent up!"

  "Not much you don't!" roared Dave to his twin, who for the instantseemed dumfounded by this piece of news from the "officer of the law."

  "I reckon," said the soft-voiced schemer after a quiet pause, "his boys'ud rather take the lickin's than get sent up, so you might as well lethim alone. You're sure there ain't no mistake 'bout that? Don't seemlike that's quite right."

  "Sure!" replied Larry, enjoying the situation to its full extent.

  "Well, I ain't," decided the boy finally. "I'm goin' to ask the teacher.Mebby you're loadin' us. You bet she'll know!"

  Larry O'Hara became suddenly awake to a new interest. "Where isshe--your teacher?" he inquired.

  "I dunno," answered the boy. "Mebby home."

  At this juncture the flap of the tent was pushed open and in bustled thelittle English cook.

  All three of the occupants started guiltily, while William looked fromhis visitors to the remnants of pie upon the table with someastonishment.

  "Well, Hi'll be blowed!" he ejaculated. Then noticing that O'Hara wasnot an ordinary specimen of Westerner, he changed his expression andbegan wagging his head, o
ffering excuses for his tardiness.

  "I had orders to get a warm bite at eight o'clock, so I went out 'untin'a bit on my own account. Did you come far, sir?"

  "All the way from Hathaway's ranch," replied Larry. "And the way I took,it couldn't have been a rod less than a hundred moiles. Sure, every bonein me body is complaining!"

  "Too bad, that," condoled William. "Hit's no easy road to find. I missedhit once, myself. I think I seen you about the ranch, didn't I? What'syer name?"

  "I'm O'Hara," he replied. "If you haven't seen me, you've heard aboutme, which amounts to the same thing. I'm glad to see you, my good man,for I began to suspect that everyone had deserted camp. I was just goingto question these young natives here, as to the whereabouts of theowners of this ranch, when you came in."

  The twins were sidling toward the front of the tent with a view to hastyretreat when the cook fixed his sharp little eyes upon them.

  "Ain't I good enough to yous but you must come an' clean out all mypastry when my back is turned? Hi'll overlook hit this time, if you getout an' chop me some wood. 'Urry up now an' get to work! for they'll allbe along directly!" The boys made their escape from the tent, while thecook continued: "They all went out 'untin' after some antelope, way upthere on the big mountain. They'll be in after a bit for a bite to heat,so if you'll excuse me, Hi'll start things goin'."

  The little cook put on his apron and hustled about, while O'Hara wentout and watched the boys break up some sticks of wood which they broughtfrom the nearby brush.

  "Here, give me the job," the young man finally remarked. "It belongs tome by rights for keeping you talking so long. If it hadn't been for meyou'd got away without being seen. Here, hand over your ax, and getalong home with you!"

  "Say, you're all right, if you do belong to the law," said Dave, gladlygiving up the ax. They speedily made their escape, and none too soon,for as they disappeared a group of riders came in sight on the oppositeside of the brush and soon surrounded the wood-chopper with hearty wordsof welcome.