Prairie Flowers
Page 12
CHAPTER XI
AT THE MOUTH OF THE COULEE
The girl's eyes flashed a swift glance into his, and once more raised tothe bandage that encircled his head, then, very abruptly, she turned herback toward him, and busied herself at the stove. A plate of sizzlingbacon and a steaming cup of coffee were whisked onto the table and, asthe cowboy seated himself, she made up a neat flat package ofsandwiches.
As Tex washed down the bacon and bread with swallows of scalding coffee,she slipped into an adjoining room and closed the door. Just as hefinished she reappeared, booted and spurred, clad in a short ridingskirt of corduroy, her hands encased in gauntleted gloves, and a Stetsonset firmly upon the black coiled braids. A silk scarf of a peculiarburnt orange hue was knotted loosely about her neck.
Never in the world, thought the man as his eyes rested for a moment uponthe soft, full throat that rose from the open collar of her shirt, hadthere been such absolute perfection of womanhood; and his glancefollowed the lithe, swift movements with which she caught up the packageof lunch and stepped to the door. "I'm going with you," she announced."Father's up at the lambing camp, and I've fed all the little beasties."A lamb tumbled awkwardly about her legs and she cuffed it playfully.
As the Texan followed her to the corral, his thoughts flashed to AliceEndicott lying as he had left her beside the river--flashed backward tothe moment of their first meeting, to the wild trip through the badlands, to their parting a year ago when she had left him to become thebride of his rival, to the moment she had appeared as an apparition backthere in the saloon, and to the incidents of their wild adventure on theflat-boat. Only last night, it was--and it seemed ages ago.
Thoughts of her made him strangely uncomfortable, and he swore softlyunder his breath, as his glance rested upon the girl who had stooped torelease a rope from a saddle that lay beside the corral gate. She coiledit deftly, and stepping into the enclosure, flipped the noose over thehead of a roman-nosed roan. The Texan stared. There had been no whirlingof the rope, only a swift, sure throw, and the loop fastened itselfabout the horse's throat close under his chin. The cowboy stepped torelieve her of the rope, but she motioned him to the other animal, agentle looking bay mare. "I'll ride Blue, you take the mare," she said.
He surveyed the roan dubiously: "He looks snorty. You better let mehandle him."
She shook her head: "No, I've ridden him before. Really, I'm quite atwister. You can help saddle him, though."
The saddling proved to be no easy task. The animal fought the bit, andshied and jumped out from under blanket a half-dozen times before theyfinally succeeded in cinching him up. Then, Tex saddled the mare, andled both horses through the gate. Outside the corral, the girl reachedfor the roan's reins but the man shook his head. "I'll ride him, youtake the bay."
The girl stared at him while the slow red mounted to her cheeks. Therewas a note of defiance in her tone as she answered: "I tell you I amgoing to ride him. I've ridden him, and I'll show him that I can ridehim again."
The Texan smiled: "Sure, I know you can ride him--I knew that when I sawyou catch him up. But, what's the use? He's got a bad eye. What's theuse of you takin' a chance?"
The girl hesitated just a moment: "You're in no condition to ride him,you're hurt, and all tired out----"
The cowboy interrupted her with a laugh: "I ain't hurt to speak of, an'since I got that coffee inside me, I'm good for all day an' then some."
"Whose horse is Blue? And what right have you to tell me I can't ridehim?"
"Whose horse he is, don't make any difference. An' if I ain't got theright to tell you not to ride him, I'll take the right."
"Well, of all the nerve! Anybody would think you owned the earth!"
The Texan regarded her gravely: "Not much of it, I don't. But, I'm goin'to own more----"
"More than the earth!" she mocked.
"Yes--a whole heap more than the earth," he answered, as his steady greyeyes stared straight into her own stormy, blue-black ones. Then, withouta word, he extended the reins of the mare, and without a word, the girltook them and mounted.
As the cowboy swung into the saddle, the blue roan tried to sink hishead, but the man held him up short, and after two or three half-heartedjumps the animal contented himself with sidling restlessly, and tonguingthe bit until white, lathery foam dripped from his lips.
As the girl watched the animal the resentment died from her eyes:"That's the littlest fuss I ever saw Blue kick up," she announced.
The Texan smiled: "He's on his good behaviour this mornin'."
"He saw it was no use," she replied, quickly. "Horses have got lots ofcommon sense."
The two headed up the little used trail that led upward to the bench byway of a shallow coulee. When they gained the top the man pointed towardthe west: "The coulee we're hittin' for is just beyond that little buttethat sets out there alone," he explained. "We better circle away fromthe river a little. The coulees won't be so deep back aways, an' I'vegot to catch up that cayuse. He hit straight back, an' the way histracks looked, he sure was foggin' it."
They rode side by side at a sharp trot, the Texan now and then casting aglance of approval at the girl who rode on a loose rein "glued to theleather." A wide alkali bed lay before them, and the pace slowed to awalk. "Your partner," began the girl, breaking the silence that hadfallen upon them, "maybe he will wake up and start out to find you."
The Texan glanced at her sharply: Was it his own imagination, or had thegirl laid a significant emphasis upon the "He." Her eyes did not meethis squarely, but seemed focussed upon the edge of the bandage. He shookhis head: "I reckon not," he replied shortly.
"But, even if he did, we could easily pick up his trail," persisted thegirl.
"Dead easy." The man was battling with an impulse to tell the girl thathis companion upon the river was a woman. The whole thing was soabsurdly simple--but was it? Somehow, he could not bring himself to tellthis girl--she might not understand--she might think--with an effort hedismissed the matter from his mind. She'll find out soon enough when weget there. He knew without looking at her that the girl's eyes were uponhim. "Heavy goin'," he observed, abruptly.
"Yes."
Another long silence, this time broken by the Texan: "I don't get youquite," he said, "you're different from--from most women."
"How, different?"
"Why--altogether different. You don't dress like--like a nester'sgirl--nor talk like one, neither."
The girl's lips smiled, but the man could see that the blue-black eyesremained sombre: "I've been East at school. I've only been home amonth."
"Learn how to rope a horse, back East? An' how to ride? It's a cinch younever learnt it in a month."
"Oh, I've always known that. I learned it when I was a little bit of agirl--mostly from the boys at the Y Bar."
"The Y Bar?"
"Yes, we used to live over on Big Box Elder, below the Y Bar home ranch.Father ran sheep there, and Mr. Colston bought him out. He could havesqueezed him out, just as well--but he bought him out and he paid him agood price--that's his way."
The Texan nodded. "Yes, that would be his way."
"That was four years ago, and father sent me off to school. I didn'twant to go a bit, but father promised mother when she died--I was just alittle tike, then--and he promised her that he would give me the besteducation he could afford. Father's a Scotchman," she continued after amoment of silence, "he's sometimes hard to understand, but he alwayskeeps his word. I'm afraid he really spent more than he can afford,because--he moved over here while I was away and--it isn't _near_ asnice as the old outfit. I hate it, here!"
The Texan glanced up in surprise at the vehemence of her last words:"Why do you hate it?" he asked. "Looks to me like a likelylocation--plenty range--plenty water----"
"We're--we're too close to the bad lands."
The man swept the country with a glance: "Looks like there ought to beplenty room. Must be five or six miles of range between you an' the badlands. Looks to me like they l
ay just right for you. Keeps other outfitsfrom crowdin'."
"Oh, it isn't the range! You talk just like father does. Any place isgood enough to live in if there's plenty of range--range andwater--water and range--those two things are all that make life worthliving!"
The man was surprised at the bitterness of her voice. The blue-blackeyes were flashing dangerous lights.
"Well, he can build a bigger house," he blundered.
"It isn't the house, either. The little cabin's just as cozy as it canbe, and I love it! It's the neighbours!"
"Neighbours?"
"Yes, neighbours! I don't mean the nesters--they're little outfits likeours. They're in the same fix we are in. But the horse-thieves and thecriminals that are hiding out in the bad lands. There's a sort ofunderstanding--they leave the money here, and father brings out theirsupplies and things from town. In return, they keep their hands off ourstock."
"Well, there's no harm in that. The poor devils have got to eat, an'they don't dare to show up in town."
"Oh, I suppose so," answered the girl, wearily, as though the subjectwere an old one, covering the same old ground. "But, if I had my way,they'd all be in jail where they belong. I hate 'em!"
"An' you thought I was one of 'em?" grinned the man.
She nodded: "Of course I did--for a minute. I thought you're wanting toborrow a horse was just the flimsiest kind of an excuse to steal one."
"You don't know, yet--for sure."
The girl laughed: "Oh, yes I do. I didn't think you were, when I toldyou that this was McWhorter's ranch. The name didn't mean anything toyou, and if you were a horse-thief, it would have meant 'hands off.'Then, to make sure, I asked you what Mr. Colston's chief worry was? Yousee if you were a horse-thief you might know Y Bar, but you'd hardlyknow him well enough to know about how he fusses over that little baldspot."
Tex laughed: "Little bald spot just about reaches his ears now. Top ofhis head looks like a sheep range."
"There you go," flashed the girl, "you mighty cattlemen always pokingfun at the sheep. We can't help it if the sheep eat the grass short.They've got just as much right to eat as the cattle have--and a gooddeal better right than your old horse-thieves that you all stick upfor!"
The Texan regarded her with twinkling eyes: "First thing we know, we'llbe startin' a brand new sheep an' cattle war, an' most likely we'd bothget exterminated."
Janet laughed, and as the horses plodded across the sodden range withthe man slightly in advance, she watched him out of the corner of hereye. "He's got a sense of humour," she thought, "and, he's, somehow,different from most cowboys--and, he's the best looking thing." Then hereyes strayed to the bandage about his head and her brows drew into apuzzled frown.
They had dipped down into a wide coulee, and the Texan jerked his horseto a stand, swung to the ground, and leaned over to examine some tracksin the mud.
"Are they fresh?" asked the girl. "Is it your horse?"
A moment of silence followed, while the man studied the tracks. Then helooked up: "Yes," he answered, "it's his tracks, all right. An' there'sanother horse with him. They're headin' for the bad lands." He swunginto the saddle and started down the coulee at a gallop, with the baymare pounding along in his wake.
The little plateau where he had left Alice Endicott was deserted!Throwing himself from the saddle, the Texan carefully examined theground. Here also, were the tracks of the two horses he had seen fartherup the coulee, and mingled with the horse tracks were the tracks ofhigh-heeled boots. The man faced the girl who still sat her bay mare,and pointed to the tracks on the ground. "Someone's be'n here," he said,in a low, tense voice.
"Maybe your partner woke up and caught his horse, or maybe those areyour own tracks----"
The man made a swift gesture of dissent: "Well, then," uttered the girlin a tone of conviction, "that horrible Purdy has been along here----"
"Purdy!" The word exploded from the Texan's lips like the report of agun. He took a step toward her and she saw that his eyes stared widewith horror.
"Yes," she answered, with a shudder, "I loathe him. He was at the ranchthis morning before you came--wanted to see father----"
A low groan from the lips of the Texan interrupted her. With a handpressed tightly to his brow, he was staggering toward his horse.