Hope Hathaway: A Story of Western Ranch Life

by Frances Parker

  CHAPTER XXIII

  "It is a long road," observed Mrs. Van Rensselaer. "I had no idea it wasso far. So these are the foot-hills of the mountains. Is this Harrisplace very much farther?"

  "'Bout five mile straight up in the mountains," replied her companion.

  "Then," said the lady decisively, "I am going to stop here at thisspring, get a drink, and rest awhile; I'm about half dead!"

  Jim McCullen made no reply, but good-naturedly headed his horse toward atiny stream that trickled down a coulee near by. Mrs. Van Rensselaerfollowed, heaving a tired sigh of relief, as she slipped down upon themoist, flower-dotted meadows beside the stream.

  "Oh, this is an awful undertaking," she declared, wetting herhandkerchief in the water and carefully wiping her forehead.

  "I thought you was pretty brave to venture it," replied old Jim, from ashort distance below, where he was watering the horses. "It's a hot dayand a dry wind. I told you just how it'd be."

  "I suppose it is some comfort to you to refer to that fact, but itdoesn't make me any the less tired or cross. Yes, I'm cross, Mr.McCullen. It has been downright rude of Hope to stay away like this allsummer. Of course it's possible she may have her reasons for that, but_I_ never put in such a pokey time before in all my life! I couldn't goback to New York without seeing her, and then Sydney told me that if Iwent up there I might be able to coax her to leave the place. But she'sbeen there so long now--a couple of months, isn't it?--that I can't seewhat difference it would make if she stayed a little longer. I did wantto see her, though, before I went home, so I decided I'd undertake thisjourney. What about this protegee of hers--this German girl she's takento raise? Sydney said she was a pretty little thing with hair the colorof mine," shaking back her fluff of fair hair, "and eyes like a 'deepblue lake.' That's all I could get out of him--'eyes like a deep bluelake!' That settles it! When a fellow begins to rhapsody over eyes likea deep blue lake, it's a good sign he's cast his anchor right there.Well, it'll be a good thing for Sydney."

  "She's a right smart young lady," remarked McCullen. "Hope thinks asight of her. She can ride a little, but she ain't goin' to learn toshoot worth a cent. Hand ain't steady 'nough. They ain't many wimmen inthe world can shoot like Hope, though! She beats 'em all!"

  "You ought to be awfully proud to think you taught her."

  "Proud!" said old Jim, his voice deep with emotion; "I reckon I'm proudof her in every way--not just because she can shoot. They ain't no onelike her! I couldn't think no more of her if she was my own, ma'am."

  "It must be nice to feel that way toward someone," mused the lady, fromthe grass. "She thinks everything of you, too. It seems natural for somepeople to take a kindly, loving interest in almost everyone. There areonly two people I have ever known toward whom I have felt in anythingapproaching that manner. Hope and Larry O'Hara. I have often fanciedthey would make an ideal couple." Jim McCullen shook his headdoubtfully, but Mrs. Van Rensselaer, unnoticing, continued: "And evenLarry deserted the ranch. He's been gone for two weeks. It's about timeI came to look everyone up!" She pinned back the fluffy hair from herface, adjusted her hat, unclasped a tiny mirror and powder puff from herwrist, and carefully dusted every portion of her pretty face.

  McCullen, who had witnessed the operation several times before along theroad that day, ceased to stare in wonderment, and very politely lookedacross the rolling hills in the opposite direction. It never occurred toClarice Van Rensselaer that anyone could have found amusement in theproceedings. In fact, she never thought of it at all, but dabbed thepowder puff quite mechanically from force of habit.

  After laughing to himself and giving her time enough to complete hertoilet, he led her horse up, remarking:

  "We'd better be movin', er like enough we won't get there till afterdark."

  Mrs. Van Rensselaer sighed, regained her feet, and suffered herself tobe helped to the saddle.

  "I reckon you won't find O'Hara up there," remarked Jim McCullen sometime later. "Two evenings ago he rode over on Fox Creek, there on thereservation, where them soldiers are out practicin'. Lieutenant Harveycome over to camp an' he rode back with him, bein's he was acquainted.It ain't more'n eight mile from camp. Mebby you could ride over there ifyou wanted." This suggestion was offered with the faintest smile beneathhis gray mustache. "It's a mighty fine chance to see them soldiersdrillin' 'round the hills, playin' at sham battles and the like."

  "It would probably be a pleasing sight to see them," replied Clarice VanRensselaer, "but I prefer an easy chair with plenty of cushionsinstead."

  "I don't like to discourage you, but I don't reckon you'll find manycushions where you're goin'," said old Jim.

  "How much farther is it?" demanded the lady.

  "Oh, not very fur, 'bout three mile, er a little further," replied hercompanion; thereupon Mrs. Van Rensselaer rode on for some time inscornful, silent resignation.

  When they reached the Harris ranch they found groups of men loungingabout everywhere.

  It looked as though most of the inhabitants of the mountains hadcongregated there on this especial evening. Mrs. Van Rensselaer gaspedin astonishment, and even McCullen, used as he was to seeing mengathered about the place, looked surprised and wondered what had beengoing on to bring such a crowd.

  Mrs. Van Rensselaer gathered her skirts closely about her, as if in fearthey would brush against some of the rough-looking men that moved backfrom the path as McCullen led her to the house. A couple of pigs chasedby a yellow pup ran past her, then an Indian woman opened wide the mainentrance of the abode and shooed out some squawking chickens, which flewstraight at the visitor. Mrs. Van Rensselaer hesitated in dismay, andturned a white, startled face to McCullen.

  "This ain't nothin' at all," he assured her. "Go right on in. I reckonwe'll find Miss Hope to home."

  She drew back still farther. "You go first," she implored fearfully.

  McCullen smiled, and picked his way into the house, followed closely byhis companion, who clung to his coat.

  Reaching the interior he seated Mrs. Van Rensselaer upon a bench, andwent in search of the Indian woman, who had disappeared at the firstsight of the visitors.

  "She's out," he announced, returning after a moment. "They say she andthe little German girl went out on their horses some time ago. I supposeyou'll have to wait here till she gets back. You ain't afraid, be you?"

  "Do you mean that I'll have to wait here _alone_?" she inquired,frightened.

  "I'll stay around fer a spell," said McCullen kindly. "There ain'tnothing to get nervous about." He opened the door of an adjoining roomand beckoned to a breed girl, who was lulling a child to sleep in anIndian hammock. "Come in and keep this lady company. She's come to seeMiss Hathaway," he said. The girl entered the room shyly--reluctantly.Jim McCullen pulled his hat over his eyes and turned to the door. "I'lllook about a bit an' see if she's comin'," he said, then went out of thehouse.

  The girl was shy, and stood awkwardly in the doorway with downcast eyes,not daring to look up at the visitor. Clarice fancied herself too tiredto talk, so sat on the bench and leaned back against the white-washedlogs. Quiet pervaded until a pig poked open the door and lookedinquisitively into the room.

  "Oh, drive that animal out!" exclaimed Clarice, "he's coming straight atme!"

  The girl gave the pig a poke that sent it grunting away, then closed thedoor and placed a box before it to keep it shut.

  "Will you kindly take me to Miss Hathaway's apartment?" asked Mrs. VanRensselaer.

  The breed girl looked bewildered. "_To where?_" she asked.

  "To her room," requested the lady, less politely. "I suppose she has aroom in this place, has she not? I should like to rest for a fewmoments."

  "It's right there," said the girl shortly, pointing at a door.

  "Right there!" exclaimed Mrs. Van Rensselaer crossly. "Why didn't youtell me so before?"

  Clarice opened the door and gasped in wonder. A vision of Hope's room atthe ranch, with all its dainty accessories, came before her, and
shethought of the girl's love of luxury and comfort. Everything was cleanhere, she assured herself with another glance around--spotlessly cleanand neat, which could not be said of the room she had just left. Therewas a bed, a chair, a box and some boards covered with cheese-cloth,that served as a dressing table. Not a picture adorned the wall or anornament of any description was to be seen.

  Mrs. Van Rensselaer walked all around the little room to satisfy herselfthat she had missed nothing. Some newspapers were fastened to the wallupon one side, and over them hung a few garments, which in turn werecarefully covered by a thin shawl, with a view, no doubt, to keep outthe dust. That was probably an idea of the German girl's, thoughtClarice, and rightly, too, for to Louisa also was due the well scrubbedboards of the floor, the shining window panes, and the general neatnesswhich pervaded the poor chamber.

  Mrs. Van Rensselaer seated herself upon a box and gazed long andearnestly at her reflection in a small hand mirror which hung over thedressing table.

  "You haven't the features of a fool," she remarked to herself, "butyou've added two new wrinkles by this tom-foolery to-day, and you oughtto be satisfied by this time that you're not fit to take care ofyourself! But I suppose it's satisfying to know you're doing missionarywork. Missionary work, indeed, for a girl who hasn't as much sense forstaying in this place as you have for coming! By the time you get homeyou'll have two more wrinkles, and it'll take a month to get back yourgood looks again! Well, you always were foolish!"

  So saying she turned away from the mirror and looked longingly at thebed. Just then her eyes became fastened, wide and terrified, upon thehead of a small gray animal protruding from the corner of the floorbehind the bed. She watched it, spell-bound by fear, as it drew its fatbody through a hole in the floor and ran across the room. Suddenly witha terrible shriek she threw herself upon the bed. The pack-rat ran backto its hole and made its exit without loss of time, but Clarice sobbedaloud in hysterical fear. Suddenly the door was thrown open, and aweather-browned, dark-haired girl knelt beside the bed and took thefrightened woman in her arms.