by Grey, Zane
He can't see through a millstone with a hole in it.--Oh, don't misunderstand me. Herrick is a fine chap, generous, friendly, not the least stuck-up. But Utah is no place for an English gentleman and sportsman, any more than it is a fit place for his sister."
"That is for us to decide," she returned, coldly. "It is less disturbing than what you say against me having my fling. I shall ride, anywhere and everywhere. I've always ridden. I'd go mad not to get on a horse in this glorious country."
"I've done my best. I've told you," he said, curtly, as if he were also addressing his conscience.
"I thank you, Mr. Wall," she said, quick to catch the change in him. "No doubt you Western folk regard Bernie as eccentric. And I'm bound to admit his ranching idea--ripping as it is to us--must appear new and strange to you. So I'll compromise. If it's really dangerous for me to ride about alone, I will take you with me.
Not, however, that I'd be afraid to go alone. Then I would be perfectly safe, would I not?"
Wall flicked the reins.
"Look, Miss Herrick. We're on top at last. There's your country.
The black snow-capped mountains are the Henrys. We go through that gap--a pass--to Star Ranch. That purple space to the left--with the lines and streaks--that's the desert. Magnify its everything by ten thousand."
"Ah-h-h!" she had cried out, breathlessly.
Jim halted the horses and gazed himself, trying to see with this stranger's eyes. Her silence, after that one outbreak, was amply eloquent. But he got no satisfaction out of his own gazing. He had an instinctive desire to get on a horse and ride off alone into this wilderness. He had more--a presagement that it would not be long until the open wasteland claimed him again. For him the bursting of one of the Henry peaks in volcanic eruption would be no more startling than what would accrue from the advent of this white- faced, golden-haired woman.
Jim anticipated, presently, an outburst from Miss Herrick, but it was not forthcoming. He drove down the hill, and again put the blacks to keen gait on a level road, this time a straight white line across a longer valley. The warm sun had begun its descent from the zenith. Jim calculated that he would beat the time he had declared, and reach Star Ranch before sundown. Only one more hill to climb and that was the Pass, which was comparatively short on this side. He wished he could fly. The sister of Bernie Herrick had an unaccountable effect upon Jim. Bernie! The name suited Herrick, as that of Helen suited this girl. It was a fatal name for a pearly-skinned, blue-eyed, golden-haired beauty. Vague legend stirred in Jim Wall's memory.
Fast as he drove, it was yet not fast enough to escape from himself. Then when the wind tore off Miss Herrick's bonnet, he had to stop the iron-jawed blacks--no slight task--and get out and walk back. But the change seemed to soothe him somehow. He strode back with the flimsy headgear. Far from prepared was he, however, for sight of Miss Herrick bareheaded.
"Thank you," she said. "Too bad to make you get out and walk. But you drove so terribly fast. It's a wonder my clothes didn't follow my hat."
Jim made a light reply, he knew not what. To him the wonder was-- flashing like a flame from the darkness of his mind--that he did not turn the team off the road and drive down into the wilderness, never to let the gaze of another man rest upon this destroying woman.
In an hour more he had crossed the valley and again addressed a slope, where the slow gait of the horses gave Miss Herrick further opportunity to talk. He both dreaded and longed to hear that rich voice, so different from the few women's voices he recalled. But she surprised him again, this time by silence. She had been overpoweringly struck by the two hours' riding toward that gorgeous region of color and upheaval. Not until they got to the top of the Pass, when Jim pointed down the Star Ranch Valley, did she awaken out of her trance. Then during the hour and a half it took to reach the ranch Jim answered queries and explained what this and that was which caught her eye. Such wholly objective conversation was easy for Jim, and the time flew by.
When he drove past Heeseman's camp all that worthy outfit were at supper. The road passed within fifty feet of their chuck-wagon.
"What a ruffianly crew!" murmured Miss Herrick. "Who, pray, are these men?"
"Part of the outfit your brother hired to protect his cattle from rustlers," replied Jim. "Funny thing about that is they are rustlers themselves."
"Deliciously funny, though hardly so for Bernie. Does he know it?"
"Not to my knowledge. Heeseman--the leader of that gang--came on his own recommendation and got the job."
"I'll have the fun of telling Bernie. . . . Oh, what's that? . . .
What an enormous barn! All yellow. And a new one going up. Logs and logs--Look at the horses! I want to stop."
"No, Miss Herrick," he replied, grimly. "I'll drive you home safely or die in the attempt. . . . Don't look at this tall man we're coming to."
"Which?" she asked, laughingly.
"The one standing fartherest out," replied Jim. "He's got on a black sombrero. . . . Don't look at him. That's Hank Hays. . . .
Miss Herrick, drop your veil."
She obeyed, unobtrusively, though her silvery laugh pealed out.
"You are teasing, of course. But I must reward your effort to entertain me."
Jim drove by Hays, who stood apart from a group of cowboys. He had the stiff, alert posture of a watching jack rabbit that imagined itself unseen. If he noticed Jim at all, it was totally oblivious to Jim. But Wall's glance, never so strained, pierced the shadow under Hays' dark sombrero rim to the strange eyes below. They were not pale now. Jim's hand clenched tight on the reins. He became preoccupied with the nucleus of the first deadly thought toward Hays.
"Hank Hays. Who is he?" Miss Herrick was saying.
"Another of your brother's vigilantes."
"Uh!--How he stared! But it wasn't that which struck me most. In India I've seen cobras rise and poise, ready to strike. And your Mr. Hays looked for all the world like a giant ring cobra with a black sombrero on its head. Wasn't that silly of me?"
"Not silly. An instinct. Self-preservation," returned Jim, sternly.
She passed that by, but only perhaps because she caught sight of the ranch-house up the slope. Here her enthusiasm was unbounded.
Herrick stood on the porch steps with his dogs. He wore high boots and a red coat. He waved.
Presently Jim reined in the sweating horses before the steps. He was most curious to see the meeting between brother and sister.
She stood up.
"Bernie, old top, here I am," she said, gaily.
"Yes, here you are, Helen," he replied, and stepped out to help her alight. "Did you have a nice trip?"
"Ripping--from Grand Junction in."
They did not embrace or even shake hands. Jim decided that when it came to intimate feelings, these English either did not have them or else they hid them. Jim, coming to himself, leaped out and began removing the bags. Barnes, whom he had totally forgotten, jumped out on the other side.
"Barnes, carry the bags in. Jim, hurry the blacks down. They're hot. You must have pushed them."
"Yes, sir. Stage was late, but we made up for it."
"Helen, where's that Wells Fargo package?" queried Herrick.
"Here in my satchel. Oh, Bernie, it's good to get home--if this can be home."
"Come in and take off that veil," he said, and with his arm in hers led her upon the porch.
Jim let Barnes take the team, while he crossed the bench and made his way down the steep, rocky declivity to Hays' cabin. Happy Jack was whistling about the fire, knocking pans and otherwise indicating the proximity of supper.
"Howdy, Jack! What's tricks for today?" asked Jim.
"Glad you're back, Jim," declared the cook, cordially. "Anyone'd have thunk you was goin' to dish the outfit--judgin' from Hays.
He's been like a hound on a leash. Smoky rode in today full of ginger, news an' a roll of long green that'd have choked a cow.
But even thet didn't ease the boss."
"What ailed him, Jack?" inquired Jim, not without impatience.
"Dinged if I know. It had to do with your goin' to Grand, a darned sight more than Smoky's."
Heavy footfalls outside attested to the return of Hays. Without more comment Jim stood up and away from the table, to face the door. Hays entered, not the genial Hays of other days, yet it was hard to define the change, unless it consisted in a gloomy, restless force behind his stride. Smoky followed him in, agreeable by contrast.
"Hullo! Here you air. I waited at the barn," said Hays, gruffly.
"Howdy, boss! I took a short cut down," replied Jim, with a nod to Smoky.
"I seen Barnes an' had a word with him. So your trip come off all right? You shore made them blacks step."
"It wasn't as pleasant a drive as you'd imagine," returned Jim, darkly.
"Haw!--You must be one of them woman-haters. . . . Outside of thet side of it, what happened to jar you?"
"Nothing to concern you or your outfit. Smoky saw me yesterday before I got a line on him. He ducked off the road. At Grand Junction nobody paid any more attention to me than I'd expect."
"Ahuh. Thet's good," replied Hays, and going over to the pack beside his bed he rummaged about to return with a packet, which he slapped down upon the table.
"There you air, Jim. On our first deal."
The packet unrolled and spread out--greenbacks of large denomination.
"What's this for?" queried Jim, blankly.
"Quick action. Thet's how we work. Your share. Smoky fetched it."
Jim did not care to give the impression that he was unused to this sort of thing. Straddling the bench, he sat down to run through the bills.
"Five thousand six hundred," he said, as if to himself, and he slipped the money inside his pocket. "Much obliged, Smoky. Now I'll be able to sit in in a little game of draw."
"Jim, ain't you got any news atall?" inquired Hays, searchingly.
"A feller with your ears an' eyes shore would pick up somethin'."
"Miss Herrick fetched a Wells Fargo package to her brother," rejoined Jim, slowly yielding to what he felt was due himself as an ally of this robber.
"Then it's come," said Hays, cracking his hands. "Herrick was expectin' money last stage."
"Yes," returned Jim, indifferently.
"Boys, set down an' fall in," called out Happy Jack.
As usual, supper was not a conversational matter. Hays' outfit always ate as if they were facing starvation. It was a habit of riders, engendered by the fact of being always on the move. After supper Smoky was the first to break silence.
"Boss, now Wall is back, you can make up your mind about what I'd like to do."
"Jim, listen to this. Smoky an' the other fellers, except Brad, want to make a clean sweep with this next drive. What you think?"
"Clean Herrick out?" asked Jim.
"Thet's the idee."
Jim pondered a moment. His mind answered that in a flash, but he considered it wise not to be precipitous.
"It'd be harder work, but save time, and perhaps our bacon as well.
These cowboys are going to find out pretty soon that the cattle have thinned out. If Smoky drives a couple thousand more it'll be sure to be found out, sooner or later."
"See thar, boss. Wall sees it just as I do. There's plenty of water along the road an' feed enough. Let's make it one big drive."
"Meanin' for me an' Jim an' Happy to fall in with you?" queried Hays, tersely.
"Shore, onless you think thet ain't so good."
"Wal, it'd mean leavin' Star Ranch sudden," cogitated the robber chief.
"Shore. An' thet's good."
"But I don't want to pull out of here sudden," declared Hays.
"Why not, if we git away with ten thousand head?" queried Smoky, astounded.
"Thet ten thousand won't close the deal I'm on."
"What've you up your sleeve, Hank?"
"Thet's my business. Yours is drivin' cattle."
"You mean to rob the Englisher? Fer Gawd's sake, Hank, don't be a hawg!"
"Hays, if you'll excuse me I'm thinking Smoky talks sense," interposed Jim, quietly.
"Wal, I'm listenin', but I reckon you can't change me," returned Hays.
"If we put it to a vote, Hank, you wouldn't be nowhere. I don't want to buck ag'in' you. But you're way off on this. . . .
Listen. I had the gall to tip Hadley off thet he'd better run up to Salt Lake an' get a big lot of cash. He took the hunch. Said he'd go an' thet he'd guarantee buyin' us out, every damn hoof."
"Thet's all right. It's good figgerin'. Only I see no call for rush."
"But we do. We're all on edge fer it. Brad thinks it wise. He doesn't like this English deal, anyway. An' now Jim Wall backs us up."
Hays knocked the bowl of his unsmoked pipe on the table, and he arose, gaunt and virile, to stalk up and down the room, plainly a victim of conflicting tides of feeling. But indecision did not last long. His gesture, abrupt and passionate, not only indicated the men who opposed him, but infinitely more.
"My mind's made up. We'll stick to our first idee. You fellers make drive after drive, goin' slow. . . . Thet'll give me time--"
"Ahuh. So you'll risk goin' ag'in' the whole outfit," interrupted Smoky, with a curious gaze at his superior.
"Wal, hell, yes, if you put it thet way," replied Hays, and he stalked out.
"No help fer it, men," said Smoky, presently. "Somethin's got into the boss. Reckon I'll hit the trail fer camp. Didn't intend to leave till mornin'. But it's jest as well. Jim, don't you want to come along?"
"I'd like to, at that. But how'd Hays take it?"
"He'd swear you was double-crossin' him. I hope to Gawd he doesn't do the double-crossin'."
"Smoky, will you start that second drive tomorrow?" asked Wall.
"I'll lay it up to my outfit. Wal, so long. See you soon, one way or another."
He went out. Jim heard a few sharp words pass between Smoky and Hays, and then silence. Happy Jack looked at Jim, shaking his head dubiously. Jim waited awhile, hoping that Hays would return, but as he did not, Jim went to bed. For once he hated to be alone in the dark and quiet. In his inmost heart he realized that he was tremendously upset by the advent of this Herrick girl.
Next day he went back to work on the new barn. A subtle change in Hank Hays augmented his suspicion of that individual. Jim let him alone. He did not require much more to satisfy himself about Hank Hays.
While Jim worked with the cowboys he watched, and he had the eyes of a hawk. Herrick was around as usual, interested in every detail of the building. Hays had gone off with the cowboys across the valley to put them upon some job there, which no doubt was a ruse to keep them away from Limestone Springs, where most of the stock grazed. He did not see Hays until supper. And the day had ended without one glimpse of Helen Herrick. Jim measured the incredible fact of his desire to see her by the poignancy of his disappointment.
Then he cursed himself for a fool. His mood changed as subtly as had Hays', with the result that he and the moody leader made poor company.
This night Jim deliberately set himself to study the robber near at hand and to watch him from a distance. At table and round the fire Hays apparently made some effort to be his former self. But the effort betrayed constraint. And out in the dark, when Hays imagined no one saw his actions, he seemed a hounded man. What was on his mind? What further plot was he hatching? Could it be possible that intent to rob Herrick of money, and any valuables procurable, could obsess him to this extent? After all, Jim did not know Hays well. He had to give him the benefit of a doubt.
At breakfast the following morning Hays surprised Jim.
"Was the Herrick girl out yesterday?" he inquired.
"Didn't see her," replied Jim, setting down his cup.
"You didn't say what kind of a looker she was. An' the other night she had her face hid by some contraption. Might as wal wore a mask. I seen her hair, though. Like sunflower! An' she shore has a shape."
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"Oh, that!" laughed Jim. "I forgot or didn't think you were interested. She's a washed-out, pink-and-white thing. No blood.
Consumptive or anemic, I reckon."
"Consumptive! With thet breast?" rejoined Hays, scornfully. "Wal, I'd like to see her once before our deal's off here."
"Are you thinking better of Smoky's idea?"
"Not of thet. But I'm worryin' about him."
Hays had his wish fulfilled next day. He was at work on the new barn, on the far side from where Jim was occupied, when Miss Herrick came down with her brother. Jim stared as if his eyes deceived him. An English riding-habit was known to him only from pictures. She looked queenly. Jim did not look at her face.
Besides, he wanted most to see the effect upon Hank Hays. That worthy's hawk-like head was erect, but Jim could not see the tell- tale eyes. Hays stood transfixed, then, suddenly, in strange gesture, as of finality, he flung down the tool he had been using.
Was that his satisfaction having seen this wonderful girl? Was it hail and farewell to such beauty as might once only come under the gaze of a man of his class? Most certainly it was repudiation of something.
Herrick and his sister walked toward Jim's side of the barn. They talked. Jim heard that laugh again. He seemed to be bewitched.
Then she approached.
"Good morning," she said. "So you are a carpenter as well as a vigilante?"
Jim doffed his sombrero and stood up straight. His gun struck the scantling with a perceptible little thud. She could not help noticing that and it gave her pause.
"I'm not at my best with THIS kind of hammer," replied Jim, with a smile, after greeting them.
"Apropos of that, Bernie told me how you shoot bob--no, jack rabbits from the saddle," she said, admiringly. "I want to see you do that. And I want to learn how. Will you show me?"
"I'd be pleased, Miss Herrick," he returned. "But I can't guarantee you'll hit any of them."
"I may surprise you. Tomorrow, then, you will ride with me?"
"I'm at your service," replied Jim, hearing his voice as something far off.
"Wall, you'll oblige me by riding with my sister when it suits her," said Herrick. "By Jove! I can't live on the back of a horse, and I don't want her to ride alone."
