by Grey, Zane
"Mr.--Rock!" she exclaimed, low-voiced and trembling. "Are you telling me you--you love me?"
"No, I'm not tellin' you that," he returned doggedly. "But I'm sure afraid somethin's terrible wrong. Miss Thiry, please--please don't make me go away."
"Could I make you do anything? How silly! But if you're manly enough to save me misery, you will go."
"That's hittin' hard. Suppose I get it into my mind that by stayin' I can save you more misery?"
"Mr. Rock!" she cried, shocked.
His sudden query had been a random shot, but it struck home.
Rock's heart leaped. He had to stifle a wild impulse. "Quien Sabe! I might," he returned, almost coldly. "Give me a day to think over whether I'll go or stay. I'll meet you tomorrow night and tell you."
"Tomorrow night. Here at this hour?" she returned, rising.
"Yes. Good night, Miss Preston."
"I'm very, very sorry--Good night."
Rock gave her one long look as she stood now in the moonlight. He would carry that picture in his heart of hearts all his days. Then he strode away, and when he turned she was still standing like a white statue.
Chapter 6
A bell awakened Rock from late slumbers. The sun was up, and as he peeped out over his blanket covering he saw the grass shine gold under the cedars.
Rock made short work of his breakfast, and hurried away down toward the corrals. At the barn-yard Rock found Al Preston leading in some horses; and one of his brothers was jacking up a hind wheel of a green wagon.
"Mornin' boss," drawled Al.
The other boy nodded at Rock.
"Are you Tom or Harry?" asked Rock, reminded of the twins.
"I'm Harry."
"All right, Harry, I'll know you tomorrow or bust. Where's Tom?"
"He left us to grease the wagon and went off after a horse for you."
"For my horse, Egypt?"
"No--I'm--sorry to say. Ash saddled him and rode of on him."
Rock for the moment succumbed to a silent fury. But seeing the grey-eyed brothers watching him curiously, he thought he had better explode naturally and wholesomely as might any cowboy. "-- -- -- --!" he yelled lustily. "He took my new white horse! And my saddle that I wouldn't lend to the King of England! Doggone! Boys, was it supposed to be a joke?"
"Take it as a joke. Or better be nice about it," added Harry. "That always stumps Ash. If he can't make you mad he lets up--for a while, anyway."
"Thanks, boys. I'll think it over," rejoined Rock.
While Rock and Al greased the wagon wheels, Harry hitched up, and by the time this task was done Tom rode in, leading a horse. It was a bay that instantly took Rock's eye.
"You boys rustle along. I'll catch up." When Rock rode around the barn he espied the wagon far ahead down the gentle slope. He moved on at a trot, his mind busy. He came to the forks of the road, and taking the left one he entered the cedars, climbed the ridge, and descended to a grassy open meadow, only, to mount another cedared ridge. It was not long until the sweet sage-wind became tainted. Rock rode up a sparsely cedared slope to a level bench, and soon came upon the site that had once been Slagle's ranch. The boys were halting before the several cabins. As Rock rode up, the stench unmistakably heralded a slaughter-house. Skins of cattle hung everywhere.
The horses were turned loose to graze, and Rock, with the three boys, set to work. It was no easy task for one man, or even two men, to fold a stiff hide and compress it into small space. But that was what they had to do.
Nevertheless, during this labour, and while joking with the brothers, Rock was bending all his keen faculties toward the end that he had determined upon. Nothing escaped his sharp eye. Toward late afternoon he happened to kick a piece of white substance, not stone, and of a colour markedly contrasting with the red earth, smelled it--tasted it. Quicklime! Rock put it in his pocket.
In due time Tom mounted the loaded wagon to drive home, while the other brothers rode off toward the woods, and Rock was left alone.
He took out the piece of quick, lime. It did not appear to be very old. After diligent search he found a smaller piece. Quicklime in any quantity there might be used to deaden the stench of decaying offal, blood and bones. Rock searched the cabins, sheds, bins without finding any more. None had ever been used upon the horrible pile that had accumulated in the hollow below the slaughter-house.
Manifestly the Prestons left the entrails and skeletons of their cattle there on the ground to rot. But they might have left something here that they wanted to destroy quickly. Hides! Cow hides they could not sell because they did not bear their brands!
All of a sudden, into Rock's searching mind there flashed memory of a deep well he had once helped to dig on these premises. Slagle wanted to get water close at hand. But they never struck water, and at 80 feet abandoned the effort.
Since that time brush had grown heavily all around the ranch-houses, but after some search Rock located the well. The edges had weathered, widening the mouth. He could not get right to the brink at this point. On the opposite side, however, opened a break in the brush. He was about to crash his way through the bushes, around to this opening, when his caution urged him not to leave a trail. Carefully he retracted his steps, worked around into a narrow path, in which he saw boot tracks.
Reaching the well, Rock peered down. He saw only the gravel sides and the black hole. He dropped a stone into it. No sound! Selecting a larger one he leaned over and let it fall. The hole certainly was deep. A low soft thud came to his taut ears.
"By gum! That well had a rock bottom." Rock cautiously stretched himself on the ground, and putting his head over the brink of the well he sniffed like a tracking hound. He caught a faint scent of something that was not earth or brush and certainly not rotting hides, and it was rotting cattle hides which he expected to smell.
Resting a moment, he tried again. This time he caught the scent strongly enough to recognize it. Quicklime! Rock sat up, suddenly sweating, though he felt a cold chill. He felt no doubt that down this well hundreds, perhaps thousands of cattle hides had been dropped--not one of which bore the Preston brand.
Rock crawled on hands and knees back along the edge of the path, making certain not to leave the slightest mark. He found another piece of quicklime, and several smaller pieces. When he got to the boot tracks he scrutinized them with the photographing eyes of a trailer of long experience. He cut twigs from the under side of a bush, and with minute care measured the length and breadth of the most clearly defined print. These twigs he stored in his pocket.
He retraced his steps back to the open, mounted, and rode quickly away.
Rock shaved and changed his clothes. He made sure, this evening, to be on hand before the first supper bell rang.
The moon appeared long in rising, and Rock both longingly and fearfully watched for the silver radiance over the rim. It came at last and found him unprepared. How could he bear to terrorize Thiry Preston by confessing his determination to stay?
At length he could no longer procrastinate. Skirting the edge of the pines, he circled the slope and soon found the great pine under which he had talked with Thiry the night before.
He heard her cabin door open. A broad light flared out into the gloom. Then Thiry appeared in the doorway, clearly defined. She wore white. Trueman's heart gave a leap and then seemed to stand still while she stood peering out into the night. She closed the door behind her--vanished. But Rock heard quick light footfalls. She was coming.
Presently her pale form grew more distinct. Rock saw her put out her hands, feeling for the tree or the bench. He reached up to take them.
"Oh!" she cried, evidently startled. "It's you, Mr. Rock. You're--late. I--I've been here twice," she said.
"I'm sorry, but it took courage to come at all," returned Rock.
"Didn't it, though? Mr. Rock, you--you are holding my hands. Please let go so I may sit down."
Rock, his own features in shadow, watched her and waited. The hour seemed to be
the most momentous of his life.
"Ash stole your horse?" she began tentatively.
"Reckon I wouldn't say stole. But he sure borrowed Egypt."
"I asked Al what you did when you found out Ash took your horse," went on Thiry.
"What did Al say?"
"He said you were thunderstruck. And you swore something terrible. Mr. Rock, you see, then--how impossible Ash is!"
"Nobody or nothin' is impossible."
"Dad says the man doesn't live who can stand Ash's meanness."
"Well, I'm livin' and maybe I can. You saw him this mornin'?"
"Yes. I was up early, helping Ma get breakfast. When the horses came up it wasn't light yet. I heard Dad jawing somebody. Then Range came in and told us. At the table I asked Ash why he'd stolen your horse and--what he meant--to do with him."
Here Thiry's speech grew husky. "Luce told me he'd called the boss Egypt, which was your pet name," said Ash. "That's why I took him an why I'm goin' to break a leg for him."
Only Rock's powerful hold upon himself, fortified by hours of preparation for anything, kept his anger within bounds. "All because I gave him your pretty name! Tough on the horse--and you were afraid to open your mouth! Much you love Egypt!"
"Wait a minute, will you;" she answered, not without anger. "I pitched into Ash Preston as never before in our lives. I--I don't know what all I called him. He took it--and, oh, he looked dreadful. But he never said a word. He got up, nearly overturning the table, jumped on the horse and was gone like a white streak."
"I stand corrected," replied Rock thickly. "I talk too quick I'm sure glad you had the nerve to call him. If you hadn't--Well, Thiry, I suppose you want to know what I'm goin' to do about this horse deal?"
"Worry over that has made me sick all day."
"When Ash gets back, I'll go up to him nice and pleasant. I'll say 'Look here, cowboy, if you want to borrow my horse, ask me for him.'"
"Suppose he comes back without Egypt?"
"Then I think I'd better pass it off as if nothin' had happened. I'd ask your' father. And if Egypt was crippled I'd go find him and end his misery."
Then followed a long silence.
"Mr. Rock, you--you were to tell me something tonight?" she began nervously.
"Thiry," said Rock, with deep feeling, "last night I almost gave in to you. It was terribly hard not to. But tonight I have hold of myself. You can't persuade me. I shall stay. I've thought all night and all day. Out of this torture has come two facts, which I believe as I do my own soul."
"What are they?" she asked.
"I believe I can serve you best by stayin' at Sunset Pass."
"And the other?"
"I love you."
She flung out her hands, protestingly, imploringly, and as if to ward off some incomprehensible peril. "Mr.--Rock!" she gasped. "You dare make love to me--when we've never been together an hour--when I'm insisting you leave my home!"
"I'd dare that, yes, under any circumstances," he retorted, coolly. "But as it happens, I'm not makin' love to you. I'm tellin' you a simple fact. I'm not likely to annoy you with it soon again. But I sort 'of welcome this chance to prove somethin' to myself. You'll hear gossip about me and my love affairs, which you can believe if you like. But I know now I never had a real one before.
"I shall leave you blissfully alone. I shall hardly be even polite if I see you at mealtime. Your brother Ash will soon see that there's one rider who's not mushy over you."
"To what end?" she went on sharply. "Is that to deceive Ash, so you can stay here?"
"Partly. But I'm bound to confess that it's to spare you."
"Oh, you're not going to spare me," she cried. "You'll not leave me alone. And even if you did Ash would believe it only a blind--that you were with me during his absence. It's a poor plan. Please give it up."
"No."
She began to twist her hands in her white gown. The idea that he had decided to stay at Sunset Pass held some singular dread for her. And while he weighed this in mind he watched her with penetrating gaze, steeling his heart against the tenderness that threatened to overwhelm him.
"Trueman Rock, I want you to leave Sunset Pass," she said, leaning to him. "Let's risk being discovered meeting at Wagontongue. You can get work anywhere. We'll take Mr. Winter into our confidence. We can meet in his office. Then I'll arrange to stay with Mrs. Winter all night when I come to town. You can meet me there, too. I will go to Wagontongue every week."
"Thiry, I ask you again--why do you want me to leave?"
"To keep you and Ash apart."
"Is that the only reason?"
"It's the--the big one," she replied with both voice and glance unsteady.
"But that won't keep Ask and me apart. He will come to town when you do. He'll watch you."
"I'll choose the time when he is away with Dad on the range."
"You would risk so much for me?"
"It's not for you, though I know I--I--will like you, if you let me. It's for Ash and Dad all of us."
"It's very sweet of you, Thiry," he said, with just enough satire to belie the portent of his words, "but very little to risk my life, for."
"No, Trueman, it may save your life."
"Hove long would you expect this sort of thing to go on? We couldn't keep it up forever, could we? And when it came to an end--and I worshipped you--what then?"
"I'd run the same risk as you."
"What of? Being killed?"
"No! No! No! You're tantalizing me. You know what I mean."
"Indeed I don't. Reckon some locoed cowboys would think you meant that you risked the danger of love."
"I mean just that, Mr. Trueman Rock," she blazed. "I'm human. And surely it is not beyond the bound of possibility for me to--to love someone. Especially if he sacrificed for me--proved himself a man.
"Thiry, are you offerin' such a hope to me?" he asked huskily.
"It's not hope, but a chance--only a chance--and all I can offer."
"But a chance--that means a lot," he went on, without remorse. "I could be with you alone?"
"Yes, as long as you wished."
"Could I make love to you?"
"How could I keep you--from it?"
"Would you let me kiss you?"
"Yes," she replied, calm.
"Would you kiss me--now--to seal the compact?" he went on, as mad in the ecstasy of the moment, as stern to convict her.
"You drive a hard bargain," she murmured bitterly. "I've never kissed any man save Ash and Dad---but I will kiss you." She stood up, took brave, but hesitating steps, until her knees pressed against his, and as she bent over, instinctively her hands went out. Rock saw them trembling. She was going through with it.
Rock seized her hands, and bending his head, he kissed, one and then the other. "Thiry," he whispered, "I would give almost my very life to have you kiss me. But not for this--I led you on. I wanted to see how far you would go. You poor, loving, blinded girl! What would you not sacrifice for this damned Ash Preston? I will stay here. You have no idea what a horrible temptation you gave me. To meet you often--to have you alone--to be able to kiss you! Thiry! I could make you love me--but so help me God, I wouldn't have your love at such sacrifice. I'll win it square and fair--or never. Now, I'll go, and I'll nor speak to you soon again. Trust me, Thiry. Good night."
He kissed her hands again and rushed away into the shadows.
Chapter 7
Four days passed, days full of hard labour for Rock, and pondering thought, and slow absorbing adaptation to the most difficult and strangest situation he had ever encountered. Early at breakfast and late at supper he saw Thiry and then only to exchange a greeting. He did not look to see if she looked at him, though curiosity and longing consumed him.
By doing most of the fence work he made himself more than solid with the three brothers. He let them ride off up into the timber to cut pine saplings and snake them down to the pasture, while he dug the post holes and built the fence.
On t
he fifth morning Al remarked, laconically: "We sure gotta hustle today, for Pa will be home."
"Why the particular hustle today, Al?" queried Rock.
"Pa has a way of slippin' up on us, an' it'd sure never do to be ketched loafin'. He wouldn't let us go to the rodeo and dance on the Fourth."
"I'd forgotten about that. Are all the folks goin'?"
"Pa and Ma ain't goin', but sure the rest of us Prestons are."
"Includin' Ash?" asked Rock.
"He never missed one yet that Thiry went to--leastways a dance. Allie and the kids will stop at Leslie's. Thiry said she was goin' to Winter's. Reckon you'll ride in with us?"
"I'll ask your dad," returned Rock, thoughtfully. It would be very much better, perhaps, for him to remain on the ranch. Yet the urge laid hold of him. He could take just a peep in at the dance to see Thiry in a party dress.
"Reckon, on second thought, I will go," he said to Al.
Late in the afternoon the brothers left off work and rode home. Rock went with them. While he was cleaning up for supper he heard the clip-clop of trotting horses, then rattle of wheels. With a start he went to the door. Scoot Preston was driving up on the seat of a big empty wagon. Two more wagons had topped the slope. Rock waited for riders to appear, and he was not disappointed. The burly form of the older Preston hove in sight, riding a roan and leading two saddle-horses. A little afterwards, sight of Ash on Egypt shot a quick stab through Rock. The next instant he relaxed. The white horse appeared tired, but none the worse for the absence.
"Aw!" exclaimed Trueman with relief. "Reckon I might as well go out and get it over."
But first he went inside. While pondering over how bests to meet this situation, he had buckled on his gun belt. Whereupon he strolled out leisurely. As he came in sight of the arriving Prestons, halfway between the cabins, Gage spied him, and with a start he wheeled about from the family, who were welcoming him to dismount like any cowboy, and hurried to intercept Rock. As he drew near, his deep grey eyes betrayed considerable anxiety. "Wal, Rock, how are you?" was his greeting, accompanied by extended, hand. "The boys say you all got on, fine. I'm sure glad."
