by Harold Titus
CHAPTER XXI
RENUNCIATION
It looked like trouble and there was trouble.
Beck, with the Reverend, Curtis and two of the ranch hands precededJane to the Hole at dawn and when she rode down the trail she saw themon their horses, forming a little group well away from the nester'scabin.
Her cattle were there and the fenced area was fringed with them as theymoved back and forth, sniffing at the water they wanted, which theyneeded and which, though just on the other side of the wire strands,might as well have been days away. Inside the fence grazed Cole's herdwith plenty to eat and drink.
Tom's face was troubled as he rode to meet the girl.
"It's serious," he said. "There's enough of your stock down here toruin you, ma'am, unless we get 'em out to water."
"Let's take them out, then!"
He shook his head skeptically.
"They're in bad shape. They're crazy wild and we haven't got enough menhere to shove 'em up the trail. It's an awful job with quiet cattlebecause they have to go in single file and there's no drivin' 'em. Idon't dare risk taking these through the Gap and around to water theother way. Why, Jane, that's forty miles!
"It'll be another day before we can get the boys back to help get 'emout and it looks like a heavy loss at best unless we get water. There'sonly one way to get it and that's to persuade Cole or his daughter thatwe'd ought to have it."
"They must have water!" she cried. "It's inhuman not to give it tothem!" She watched a big steer going past at a rapid walk, eyes brightand protruding as in fright; he bawled hoarsely for drink. "Why, Tom,people can't refuse water to beasts that need it."
"See! There's Cole and Bobby now,"--pointing toward the cabin. "Come.I'll buy water if necessary."
She spurred her horse and Beck followed at a gallop. When he cameabreast he looked curiously at her face. Her jaw was tight and her eyesdark with determination. This was her fight and she was thoroughlyaroused to it. She asked no advice, she showed no hesitation; she wentforward with all confidence, certain that in this cause which involvednot only the loss of property but the suffering of dumb creatures shecould have her way.
A hundred yards from the cabin a steer thrust his head through the wirestrands and shoved, heedless of barbs, tantalized by the smell ofwater. Cole shouted with his weak voice and picked up a stick and rantoward the animal, brandishing his cudgel.
Bobby stood watching the riders approach.
"I've come to see you again," Jane said in brief preface. "This time itis an urgent matter." She dismounted and faced the other girl. "Mycattle are here and they need drink very badly. You have all the water.Will you let them through your fence? As soon as they can be moved wewill take them out and they will bother you no more."
Bobby eyed her with loathing but it was not as she had been on theirprevious encounter, for about her manner was something more concrete,as though she cherished a definite grudge this time.
"Is your memory so bad that you don't recollect what I told youbefore?" she asked slowly. "I told you once to keep away from us; Itell you that again. This is our range now; your stock ain't got anyrights here."
"I'll grant you that I have no right to ask. I did what I could to keepmy cattle out of here. The man I set to guard the Gap was shot down;that is why they are here this morning; that is why I must have yourwater, because it is the only water available.
"I am willing to pay. This means very much to me. Won't you name aprice, give me water? I am asking it as a favor and will be willing topay for that favor."
"Favor!"
The girl shot the word out harshly.
"Favor! You're a sweet one to come askin' _me_ for a favor!"
A fever of rage rose in her face and her brows gathered threateningly.
"Nothin' we've got is for sale to you! I wouldn't help you if I couldsave your outfit by liftin' my hand ... an' if I was starvin' for thatyou'd give me in pay!"
Jane was nonplussed. Bobby's breast rose and fell quickly and her whiteteeth gleamed behind drawn lips. She was the catamount, ready to fight!
"But think of these cattle! They're suffering--"
"Cattle! You ask me to think of cattle because they're suffering andyou'd make human beings suffer from worse things than thirst!"
"I don't understand you. What have I done that would make peoplesuffer?"
"I s'pose you don't know?"--jeeringly. "I s'pose you don't _want_to know in front of him,"--with a flirt of her quirt to indicate Beck."I wouldn't either if I was in your place, you--sneak!"
"Sneak?" Jane repeated, stung to open resentment. "Sneak?"
"Yes, sneak. You'd run us out of this country if you could, but youcan't. You'd take my man if you could ... but you can't!"--through shutteeth.
"Your man?"--looking at the girl and then at Beck in bewilderment."Your--"
"Yes, my man! Oh, don't think I don't know. I saw it all. I saw one ofyour hands take him to your home last night. I followed him, I watchedthrough your window. I seen you beg with him and plead with him. I knowwhat you want....
"Why, he's told me everything, from th' first! You got him to followyou out here, you got mad at him and threw him out of your house once.Now you want him back. You want him back. I suppose while he,"--tiltingher head toward Tom--"is away on round-up! You want him back whenyou've got everything you want and he's all I got, all I ever had!"
Tears sprang into her eyes and her voice came trembling throughtrembling lips. Jane, swept by confusion, sought words and found none.It was preposterous! And yet the very accusation degraded her. Drawninto a quarrel over a man, and such a man!
"You'd take this claim, if you could, when you've got more land thananybody around here. You'd take my man when you've got lots of othersyourself. You _must_ have lots like you got lots of other things.Maybe you think that by takin' him you can drive me out and get theclaim that way. Maybe that's your reason, you ... you...." She seemedto search in vain for an expletive that would convey her contempt.
"But you misunderstand! You're all wrong."
"Wrong, am I? Wrong, when you put your arms around his neck and putyour face close to his an' make him look at you an' beg him to dothings for your sake. I watched through your window last night. I heardthose words, 'For my sake.' You said 'em. I suppose that's wrong, isit? I--"
"But it wasn't that! It wasn't what you think it--"
"I s'pose you thought he wouldn't tell me, but he did. He won't comeback to you. You couldn't get him away from me!"--in triumph.
Her manner was so assured, she was so convinced of the truth ofHilton's version of last night's encounter that Jane Hunter was at aloss for argument. Impulsively she turned to look at Beck, as forsuggestion, and what she saw there stripped her of ability to fightback. His face was as devoid of expression as a countenance can be, buthis eyes challenged, accused, bore down upon her, demanding that sheexplain!
He _demanded_ that she explain!
He suspected her! He gave credence to Bobby's accusation. He could dothat!
A word, even a gesture, would have cleared the situation but his lookstruck her inarticulate, immobile. She had been so confident ofherself, of his trust; and now he had grasped upon this monstrouscharge and held her to answer.
"You with your fine notions, your money, your city ways!" the othertaunted. "You, with all you've got, would take the only thing I've got,the only thing I've ever had!
"An' now you come, askin' favors. Favors from me! Why, all I'll do foryou is to run you out of this country. I've heard what they call mehere: the catamount. I'll show you how the catamount can scratch andbite!"
It swept over Jane that she must reply, that she must say some word inher defense, that she must say it now ... _now_ ... that in thissecond of time her fate swung in balance, that bitter thoughexplanation might be she must make it, for Beck was listening, Beck waswatching, Beck was doubting!
And, as she would have spoken, lamely, but with enough clarity toabsolve her from suspicion, Bobby stepped clo
ser.
"You take your men an' light out!" she snapped. "You keep your men outof here an' your cattle away from this fence. Th' first steer thatbreaks through 'll get shot down, th' first man that tries to help 'emthrough will find that he needs help himself. I hate you!" she cried."I hate you worse 'n I hate a snake an' I'll treat you like a snakefrom now on.
"You carry that idea home with you an' you carry this ... as firstpayment, to bind the bargain!"
With a quick, sharp swing of her arm, she whipped her quirt through theair and it wrapped about Jane's soft throat with a vicious snap.
She stepped back with a choking cry, hiding her face. She heard Beck'sshort, "That'll do!" in a strange, unnatural voice, as though histhroat were dry. She heard the Catamount's contemptuous sniff and herhard, "Clear out!"
She found herself in her saddle again, riding beside Beck as they movedtoward the other HC riders, who, dismounted and seated on the ground,had not witnessed the dramatic parley and its humiliating climax. Shewas confronted by a situation which clearly spelled disaster for herranch unless solved and solved quickly but that did not matter now.
She had been whipped, as the man who had insulted Bobby Cole had beenwhipped. Had been drawn into a brawl! And, far worse, she had foundthat the man toward whom she had toiled from the Jane Hunter that hadbeen to the Jane Hunter she had one day dreamed she might be, haddoubted her!
He was talking haltingly, something about bringing more men to shovethe cattle up into the Coyote Creek country, but even through herconfusion she realized that his thoughts were not finding words, thathe was forcing himself to talk of those things. Her heart wanted to cryout, to tell him that he had misunderstood, that her encounter withHilton was not occasioned by the motive Bobby Cole had suspected. Theold Jane Hunter would have done so, but with her new strength had comeanother thing, until that hour hidden: it was pride, a pride which wasas noble as her love, which would permit no cavail, which would notstoop to conquer!
She fought it down, striving for clarified thought, feeling for theword, the brief sentence which would explain away Beck's suspicion andleave that pride uninjured, for there must be such a way. And while shefought, blinded by tears and confused by humiliation, the moment ofopportunity passed. Beck left her.
They were with the others, who grouped about her foreman, and he said:
"I was going to send one of you men to bring a dozen of the boys fromthe wagon to help save this stuff, if we can, but I've changed mymind,"--with a bitter significance which they did not catch. "I'm goin'myself. Curtis, you're in charge. Keep your head. Keep the cattle frombreakin' his fence because they'll shoot 'em down an' if they startshooting cattle there'll be a lot of us get shot."
He started away at a gallop without so much as a look at Jane.Impulsively she called his name and spurred her sorrel after him. Heset his horse on his haunches, wheeled and waited for her, face white,those eyes so dark, so accusing. That look checked the words that wereon her lips as effectively as a blow on the mouth and he spoke first asshe halted beside him:
"You did send for him, I take it? You didn't deny that."
He was hard, cruel, brows gathered, and the storm within him stung thatpride of hers further, roused it to newer life.
"Yes, I sent for him," she managed to say, "but Tom, won't--"
"That's all that's necessary then," he said, and was gone.
She sat on her horse watching him ride across the flat for the steeptrail that led out of the Hole and she felt that all the sweetness, allthe worth-while quality of her life was riding hard behind thatstraight figure. A bitterness rose in her heart, a rebellion. He wouldnot listen to her and she had tried to speak!
Jane did not consider that this was but one evidence of the greatnessof the love of such a man, of the sacredness with which he treasuredit; all she saw was the distrust, unbelief, and after a time she rodeslowly on, watching him become a fleck on the face of the mountain,seeing him finally disappear over the rim, out of her life, it seemed.
* * * * *
With leaden heart she entered her house and sat heavily in the chairbefore the desk. An envelope was there, addressed to her in Beck'scoarse hand. She tore it open with unsteady fingers.
The little gold locket which had been warmed first by her heart, thenby Beck's, which had been her talisman for months, slipped into herpalm. With tear-dimmed eyes she looked at it and then turned to theletter, reading:
"It is likely that you need your luck worse than I do so I am returningyour gift. I would go away from your outfit now but if I did they wouldsay that they drove me out as they have said they would do. Myreputation is all I have left now and I would like to keep that becausea man must have something.
"I did not want to love you in the first place as you may recall but Iguess I was pretty weak for a man. I told you once that there werethings I did not understand about you and I guess the way you thinkabout men is one of them. I wanted to drive him out of the country andyou would not let me. I waited a long time today for you to deny whatthe Cole girl said and you did not do it. I was pretty mad when I leftyou but I realize now it is all my fault. I took a chance which is notthe way to do and now I am paying for it. Well, I am able to pay.
"I hope you will not answer this and will not try to talk to me againunless on business. I do not blame you. I blame myself but I do notwant to talk about it. I will take good care of your cattle and yourmen because that is my job. I will run these men out of this countryand then if I am able to resign I will.
"Respectfully, "TOM BECK."
She put down the letter, feeling queerly numb. She experienced noparticular resentment because she could well see how her failure tospeak at the proper moment had condemned her in Beck's eyes; hersensation was of one who has failed in a crisis. Bobby Cole haddominated her, had swept her off her feet, had given her thatdepressing feeling of inferiority again and before her lover's eyes; ithad shaken her assurance, made her question the strength of which shehad been so certain in the last weeks! It was that which hurt her farmore than the stinging welt about her throat where the lash had bittenher flesh.
She inquired for Two-Bits, learning that the doctor had left him withthe assurance that his recovery would not be unduly delayed. She ateher dinner abstractedly. In all she did she moved as one who is onlypartly alive; a portion of her body, even, seemed insensate, while hermind was dead. A dull ache pervaded her, an emptiness, for somethingvastly important was gone and she was without resource to call it back.
The Reverend came and went, taking beds on pack horses and when Janesaw him departing she laughed rather weakly to herself.
It was so simple! There was the agency which could bridge this chasmand while so doing could save the pride which was creating the conflictwithin her.
The Reverend knew her motive in sending for Hilton. He could and wouldmake Beck aware of what had transpired. She even thought of writing Toma note, something as follows:
"I am terribly hurt but in a way it is of my own doing. I have just onething to request: Ask the Reverend how Dick Hilton came to be here."
But she had no one to send with it and Beck would be back on the morrowwith the men to move the thirst tortured cattle. Besides, there must beanother way than the despatch of such a message. That was too cold andformal. It would bring him humbly to her but she knew how he wouldsuffer when his pride was hurt; and such a thing would do no less thanhurt his pride. She would make it as easy as possible.
A let-down came and she cried and when she slept that night her dreamswere not distressing.
