The Uphill Climb

by B. M. Bower

  CHAPTER IX

  Impressions

  Josephine waited languidly while Kate chose a second-best cushion fromthe couch and, lifting the bandaged foot as gently as might be, placedit, with many little pats and pulls, under the afflicted member.Josephine screwed her lips into a soundless expression of pain, smiledafterwards when Kate glanced at her commiseratingly, and pulled a long,dark-brown braid forward over her chest.

  "Do you want tea, Phenie?--or would you rather have chocolate to-day? Ican make chocolate just as easy as not; I think I shall, anyway. Buddyis so fond of it and--"

  "Is that man here yet?" Josephine's tone carried the full weight of herdislike of him.

  "I don't know why you call him 'that man,' the way you do," Katecomplained, turning her mind from the momentous decision between teaand chocolate. "Ford's simply fine! Chester thinks there's no one likehim; and Buddy just tags him around everywhere. You can always,"asserted Kate, with the positiveness of the person who acceptsunquestioningly the beliefs of others, living by faith rather thanreason, "depend upon the likes and dislikes of children and dogs, youknow."

  "Has the swelling gone out of his eyes?" Josephine inquired pointedly,with the irrelevance which seemed habitual to her and Kate when theyconversed.

  "Phenie, I don't think it's kind of you to harp on that. Yes, it has, ifyou want to know. He's positively handsome--or will be when the--whenhis nose heals perfectly. And I don't think that's anything one shouldhold against Ford; it seems narrow, dear."

  "The skinned place?" Josephine's tone was perfectly innocent, and herfingers were busy with the wide, black bow which becomingly tied the endof the braid.

  "Phenie! If you hadn't a sprained ankle, and weren't such a dear inevery other respect, I'd shake you! It isn't fair. Because Ford waspounced upon by a lot of men--sixteen, Chester told me--"

  "I suppose he counted the dead after the battle, and told Chestruthfully--"

  "Phenie, that sounds catty! When you get down on a man, you're perfectlyunmerciful, and Ford doesn't deserve it. You shouldn't judge men by thenarrow, Eastern standards. I know it's awful for a man to drink andfight. But Ford wasn't altogether to blame. They got him to drinkingand," she went on with her voice lowered to the pitch at which women arewont to relate horrid, immoral things, "--I wouldn't be surprised ifthey put something in it! Such things are done; I've heard of men beingdrugged and robbed and all sorts of things. And I'm just as much of anadvocate for temperance as you are, Phenie--and I think Ford was justright to fight those men. There are," she declared wisely,"circumstances where it's perfectly just and right for a man to fight. Ican imagine circumstances under which Chester would be justified infighting--"

  "In case sixteen men should hold his nose and pour drugged whisky downhis throat?" Phenie inquired mildly, curling the end of her braid over aslim forefinger.

  Mrs. Kate made an inarticulate sound which might almost be termed asnort, and walked from the room with her head well up and a manner whichsilently made plain to the onlooker that she might say many things whichwould effectually crush her opponent, but was magnanimously refrainingfrom doing so.

  Josephine did not even pay her the tribute of looking at her; she had atthat moment heard a step upon the porch, and she was leaning to one sideso that she might see who was coming into the dining-room. As ithappened, it was Mason himself. Miss Josephine immediately lost interestin the arrival and took to tracing with her finger the outline of aJapanese lady with a startling coiffure and an immense bow upon herspine, who was simpering at a lotus bed on Josephine's kimono. She didnot look up until some one stepped upon the porch again.

  This time it was Ford, and he stopped and painstakingly removed the lastbit of soil from his boot-soles upon the iron scraper which was attachedto one end of the top step; when that duty had been performed, he paidfurther tribute to the immaculate house he was about to enter, by wipinghis feet upon a mat placed with mathematical precision upon the porch,at the head of the steps. Josephine watched the ceremonial, and studiedFord's profile, and did not lay her head back upon the cushion behindher until he disappeared into the dining-room. Then she stared at acolored-crayon portrait of Buddy which hung on the wall opposite, andher eyes were the eyes of one who sees into the past.

  Buddy, when he opened the door and projected himself into the room,startled her into a little exclamation.

  "Dad says he'll carry you out to the table and you can have a whole sideto yourself," he announced without preface. "They'll just pick up yourchair, and pack chair and all in, and set you down as ee-asy--do youwant to eat out there with us?"

  Josephine hesitated for two seconds. "All right," she consented then, ina supremely indifferent tone which was of course quite wasted on Buddy,who immediately disappeared with a whoop.

  "Come on, dad--she says yes, all right, she'll come," he announcedgleefully. Buddy was Josephine's devoted admirer, at this point in theirrather brief acquaintance; which, according to his mother's well-knowntheory, was convincing proof of her intrinsic worth--Mrs. Kate havingfrequently strengthened her championship of Ford to his detractor, MissJosephine, by pointing out that Buddy was fond of him.

  Josephine spent the brief interval in tucking back locks of hair and inrearranging the folds of her long, Japanese kimono, and managed to fallinto a languidly indifferent attitude by the time Chester opened thedoor. Behind him came Ford; Miss Josephine moved her lips and tilted herhead in a perfunctory greeting, and afterward gave him no moreattention than if he had been a Pullman porter assisting with hersuitcases. For the matter of that, she gave quite as much attention asshe received from him--and Mason's lips twitched betrayingly at thespectacle.

  Through dinner they seemed mutually agreed upon ignoring each other asmuch as was politely possible, which caused Mason to watch them withamusement, and afterwards relieve his feelings by talking about them toKate in the kitchen.

  "Gosh! Jo and Ford are sure putting up a good bluff," he chuckled, whilehe selected the freshest dish towel from the rack behind the pantrydoor. "They'd be sticking out their tongues at each other if they wastwenty years younger; pity they ain't, too; it would be a relief to 'emboth!"

  "Phenie provokes me almost past endurance!" Mrs. Kate complained,burying two plump forearms in a dishpan of sudsy hot water, and bringingup a handful of silver. "It's because Ford had been fighting when hecame here, and she knows he has been slightly addicted to liquor. Shelooks down on him, and I don't think it's fair. If a man wants toreform, I believe in helping him instead of pushing him father down."(Mrs. Kate had certain little peculiarities of speech; one was anitalicized delivery, and another was the omission of an r now and then.She always said "father" when she really meant "farther.") "There's alot that one can do to help. I believe in showing trust and confidencein a man, when he's trying to live down past mistakes. I think it wasjust fine of you to make him foreman here! If Phenie would only be niceto him, instead of turning up her nose the way she does! You seeyourself how she treats Ford, and I just think it's a shame! I thinkhe's just splendid!"

  "She don't treat him any worse than he does her," observed Mason, justto the core. "Seems to me, if I was single, and a girl as pretty asJo--"

  "Well, I'm glad Ford has got spunk enough not to care," Mrs. Kateinterposed hastily. "Phenie's pretty, of course--but it takes more thanthat to attract a man like Ford. You can't expect him to like her whenshe won't look at him, hardly; it makes me feel terribly, because he'ssure to think it's because he--I've tried to make her see that it isn'tright to condemn a man because he has made one mistake. He ought to beencouraged, instead of being made to feel that he is a--an outcast,practically. And--"

  "Jo don't like Ford, because she's stuck on Dick," stated a shrill,positive young voice behind them, and Mrs. Kate turned sharply upon heroffspring. "They was waving hands to each other just now, through thewindow. I seen 'em," Buddy finished complacently. "Dick was down fixingthe bridge, and--"

  "Buddy, you run right out and play! You must not listen to ol
der peopleand try to talk about some-thing you don't understand."

  "Aw, I understand them two being stuck on each other," Buddy maintainedloftily. "And I seen Dick--"

  "Chase yourself outdoors, like your mother said; and don't butt in on--"

  "Chester!" reproved Mrs. Kate, waving Buddy out of the kitchen. "Howcan you expect the child to learn good English, when you talk to himlike that? Run along, Buddy, and play like a good boy." She gave him alittle cake to accelerate his departure and to turn his mind fromfurther argument, and after he was gone she swung the discussion toBuddy and his growing tendency toward grappling with problems beyond hisseven years. Also, she pointed out the necessity for choosing one'slanguage carefully in his presence.

  Mason, therefore, finished wiping the dishes almost in silence, and leftthe house as soon as he was through, with the feeling that women werenot by nature intended to be really companionable. He had, for instance,been struck with the humorous side of Ford and Josephine's perfectlyridiculous antipathy, and had lingered in the kitchen because of ahalf-conscious impulse to enjoy the joke with some one. And Mrs. Katehad not taken the view-point which appealed to him, but had beenself-consciously virtuous in her determination to lend Ford a helpinghand, and resentful because Josephine failed to feel also the urge ofuplifting mankind.

  Mason, poor man, was vaguely nettled; he did not see that Ford neededany settlement-worker encouragement. If he was let alone, and his moralregeneration forgotten, and he himself treated just like any other man,Mason felt that Ford would thereby have all the encouragement he needed.Ford was once more plainly content with life, and was taking it intwenty-four-hour doses again; healthful doses, these, and different inevery respect from those days spent in the sordid round of ill-living intown; nor did he flay his soul with doubts lest he should disappointthis man who trusted him so rashly and so implicitly. Ford was busy atwork which appealed to the best of him. He was thrown into companionshipwith men who perforce lived cleanly and naturally, and with Ches Mason,who was his friend. At meals he sometimes gave thought to Mrs. Kate, andfrequently to Josephine. The first he admired impersonally for herhousewifely skill, and smiled at secretly for her purely feminineoutlook upon life and her positive views upon subjects of which she knewnot half the alphabet. He had discovered that Mason did indeed refrainfrom smoking in the house because she discountenanced tobacco; and sinceshe had a talent for making a man uncomfortably aware of her disapprovalby certain wordless manifestations of scorn for his weaknesses, Fordalso took to throwing away his cigarette before he crossed the bridge onhis way to her domain. He did not, however, go so far as Ches, who kepthis tobacco, pipe, and cigarette papers in the stable, and was alwaysborrowing "the makings" from his men.

  Ford also followed Mason's example in sterilizing his vocabularywhenever he crossed that boundary between the masculine and feminineelement on the ranch, the bridge. Mrs. Kate did not approve of slang.Ford found himself carefully eliminating from his speech certaingrammatical inaccuracies in her presence, and would not so much as splitan infinitive if he remembered in time. It was trying, to be sure. Fordthanked God that he still retained a smattering of the rules he hadreluctantly memorized in school, and that he was not married (at least,not uncomfortably so), and that he was not compelled to do more than eathis meals in the house. Mrs. Kate was a nice woman; Ford would tell anyman so in perfect sincerity. He even considered her nice looking, withher smooth, brown hair which was never disordered, her fine, clear skin,her white teeth, her clear blue eyes, and her immaculate shirt-waists.But she was not a comfortable woman to be with; an ordinary humanwearied of adjusting his speech, his manners, and his morals to herstandard of propriety. Ford, quietly studying matrimony from thewell-ordered example before him, began to congratulate himself upon notbeing able to locate his own wife--since accident had afflicted him withone. When he stopped, during these first busy days at the Double Cross,to think deeply or seriously upon the mysterious entanglement he hadfallen into, he was inclined to the opinion that he had had a narrowescape. The woman might have remained in Sunset--and Ford flinched atthe thought.

  As to Josephine, Ford's thoughts dwelt with her oftener than they didwith Mrs. Kate. The thought of her roused a certain resentment whichbordered closely upon dislike. Still, she piqued his interest; for aweek she was invisible to him, yet her presence in the house created atangible atmosphere which he felt but could not explain. His first sightof her--beyond a fleeting glimpse once or twice through the window--hadbeen that day when he had helped Mason carry her and her big chair intothe dining-room. The brief contact had left with him a vision of thedelicate parting in her soft, brown hair, and of long, thick lasheswhich curled daintily up from the shadow they made on her cheeks. He didnot remember ever having seen a woman with such eyelashes. They impelledhim to glance at her oftener than he would otherwise have done, and towonder, now and then, if they did not make her eyes seem darker thanthey really were. He thought it strange that he had not noticed herlashes that day when he carried her from the house and back again--untilhe remembered that at first his haste had been extreme, and that whenhe took her from the bunk-house she had stared at him so that he wouldnot look at her.

  He did not know that Ches Mason was observant of his rather frequentglances at her during the meal, and he would have resented Mason'sdiagnosis of that particular symptom of interest. Ford would, if put tothe question, have maintained quite sincerely that he was perfectlyindifferent to Josephine, but that she did have remarkable eyelashes,and a man couldn't help looking at them.

  After all, Ford's interest was centered chiefly upon his work. They weregoing to start the wagons out again to gather the calves for weaning,and he was absorbed in the endless details which fall upon the shouldersof the foreman. Even the fascination of a woman's beauty did not followhim much beyond the bridge.

  Mason, hurrying from the feminine atmosphere at the house, found himseriously discussing with Buddy the diet and general care of Rambler,who had been moved into a roomy box stall for shelter. Buddy was tohave the privilege of filling the manger with hay every morning afterbreakfast, and every evening just before supper. Upon Buddy alsodevolved the duty of keeping his drinking tub filled with clean water;and Buddy was making himself as tall as possible during the conference,and was crossing his heart solemnly while he promised, wide-eyed, tokeep away from Rambler's heels.

  "I never knew him to kick, or offer to; but you stay out of the stall,anyway. You can fill his tub through that hole in the wall. And you letWalt rub him down good every day--you see that he does it, Bud! And whenhe gets well, I'll let you ride him, maybe. Anyway, I leave him in yourcare, old-timer. And it's a privilege I wouldn't give every man. I thinka heap of this horse." He turned at the sound of footsteps, and loweredan eyelid slowly for Mason's benefit. "Bud's going to have charge ofRambler while we're gone," he explained seriously. "I want to be surehe's in good hands."

  The two men watched Buddy's departure for the house, and grinned overthe manifest struggle between his haste to tell his mother and Jo, andhis sense of importance over the trust.

  "A kid of your own makes up for a whole lot," Mason observedabstractedly, reaching up to the narrow shelf where he kept his tobacco."I wish I had two or three more; they give a man something to work for,and look ahead and plan for."

  Ford, studying his face with narrowed eyelids, was more than everthankful that he was not hampered by matrimony.