The Forfeit

by Ridgwell Cullum

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE CALL TO ORRVILLE

  The windows were wide open. Voices from within the parlor reached Nan.She was waiting on the veranda. Waiting for the long council ofmen-folk to reach its conclusion. She had elected to remain outside.She knew that the future well-being of the Obar Ranch was beingconsidered by men whose sole regard that well-being was. And somehowthe woman in her demanded that in all the vital affairs of life it wasthe will of the men-folk which should rule.

  But her self-denial was strained to breaking as the interminableminutes grew, and, at last, she abandoned her principles to her woman'scuriosity, and slipped into the room. She knew well enough that noneof those present would resent her intrusion. And, anyway, it was hardto stand by when her whole interest was absorbed in the decisions to bearrived at.

  She passed round the room and took up a position on the arm of herfather's chair. No one spoke to her. Scarcely an eye turned in herdirection. And something of the impressiveness of it all caught thegirl's imagination.

  There was the dear familiar room with its simple furnishing, and itspoignant associations. It was part of her life. It was certainly partof her father's and Jeff's. Then there was the warm sunlight pouringin through the open windows. It lit the tanned, strong faces of themen, and searched the weak spots in their toil-worn equipment. Therewas not a weak face among them. And Nan felt comfort in the thoughtthat theirs was the decision.

  The face of Jay Pendick, their own headman, with its small, alert darkeyes reflected the intentness of his mind. His capacity had been triedover and over again in his long years of service. Then Lal Hobhouse,the best-hated man on the countryside for his ruthless genius inobtaining work from those under him, and the driving force of Jeff'sside of the partnership. Her father, wise and silent, except for hisheavy breathing. And lastly Jeff, full of a hard determination to beatthe game in which he was engaged.

  So keen was the interest of the gathering that Bud alone was smoking.But then Bud regarded tobacco as a necessary adjunct to soundness ofjudgment.

  He slipped an arm about Nan's waist as she took up her position at hisside.

  Jeff was seated at the centre table, a position strongly reminiscent tothe girl of a smaller gathering some four years back, when he hadoccupied the position of leadership in the enterprise which had hadsuch successful results for them all. Jay was poised upon the edge ofa small chair which suggested immediate peril under his forceful andscarcely elegant methods when discussing the doings of rustlers, andimparting his opinion upon all and sundry of their class. Laldisdained all parlor attitude. He was squatting against the edge ofthe table without the least consideration for its somewhat triflingpowers of endurance. But Jeff was talking, and Nan's whole attentionwas swiftly caught and held by the man whose words and actions were atall times irresistible to her.

  He was talking slowly and clearly with that shadow of a drawl which washis way when his decision was arrived at.

  "Say, it's as clear as don't matter we're up against an experienced andorganized proposition," he said. "I don't guess this is any kind ofscallawag outfit of toughs which just get around and duff a bunch, andhit the trail for safety till the froth they've raised dies down again.It's Orrville repeating itself." He paused thoughtfully. His eyeswere regarding the table before him. When he raised them again theywere full of a peculiar light which shone in Bud's direction. "Ther'sfeatures in the game carry a parallel to that play, and I guess theypoint the fact that the fellers of that gang who got away at theirround-up have got around this region now, and figure to carry on thesame play right here. You'll get that, Bud--sure." Bud nodded."Well, it's up to us," Jeff went on, as though the other's agreementhad left his course of action clear. "Maybe ther's States Marshallsaround, and a pretty bunch of deputies lying behind Sheriff HankKillick, but there never was an official gang these folk couldn't beata mile. Guess they're not duffing the private property of HankKillick, or any of his boys. We best get busy our own way, which isthe way Dug McFarlane took nearly five years to dream out."

  His blue eyes had grown colder and harder while he talked. There was abite, too, in the manner in which he referred to the doings in Orrvilleof four years ago. There was a curious curl to his firm lips, which,to Nan's mind, suggested a painful smile. And she disliked it. Shedisliked his whole manner, which, just now, was none of the Jeff shehad always known. Bud read deeper. And that which he read carried himback to an unforgettable scene in the Cathills, when a twin stoodgazing upon its other half, hanging by the neck dead under the shade ofa wide-spreading tree.

  "It's up to us to set up a reward, Bud," Jeff went on, in the samepassionless fashion. "A big reward. We've got to make it so someamateur Judas is ready to sell his friends. It'll cost us a piece, butit's the way to fix things. And anyway it's going to be worth it,sure. I allow we'll need to hand out the story of reward good. It'sgot to reach this gang itself. An' if I guess right, and there'stoughs from Orrville way running this lay-out, why, they aren't li'bleto have forgotten what happened that time. We'll break the gang,or--we'll get 'em."

  There was something unrelenting, and even vicious, in the manner inwhich he gripped the pencil in his hand and dug the pointed lead andcrushed it against the surface of the table. Nan drew a deep sigh ofrelief as he finished speaking, and turned gladly as her father removedhis pipe and cleared his throat.

  "An' the reward. How much?" he questioned.

  The answer flashed back at him like the slash of a knife.

  "Ten thousand dollars!"

  In that answer Jeff's voice was unrecognizable to Nan. His wholeexpression, too, seemed to have undergone some subtle change. She satgroping for the meaning of it all, and somehow regretted she had notremained out on the veranda.

  Bud inclined his head and replaced his pipe in corner of his mouth.

  "It goes," he declared. Then he lumbered out of his chair. "Thatall?" he inquired. And by his manner and tone Nan knew that he, too,had been affected by the things which had troubled her.

  "Not quite."

  Jeff turned on his own foreman. He had lost none his intensity.

  "That reward goes," he said sharply. "Get the exact amount. Tenthousand dollars. Not a cent more or less. Hand it out everywhere.Meanwhile I'll see to it the notices are printed, and we'll have 'emset up wherever the eyes of these scum are likely to get peekingaround." Then he emitted a sound like a laugh, but there was no mirthin his eyes. Nor in his manner. "We'll locate the best trees for ahanging, and we'll set 'em up there."

  Nan moved over to an open window as the two headmen took theirdeparture. Bud had taken up a position against the cold iron stove.Jeff alone retained his seat, during the few silent moments whichfollowed.

  With the departure of the men, however, he looked up from a letter hehad withdrawn from his pocket.

  "Say, Bud," he said without emotion, "guess the Presidency of theWestern Union's going to claim me right away. I'll need to makeOrrville right off."

  "Orrville?" Bud's eyes were sharply scrutinizing.

  "Sure." Jeff's indifference was obviously assumed. Nan's questioningeyes passed uncertainly from Jeff to her father. There was somethingbetween these two she did not understand. Orrville? It was when hehad been speaking of Orrville all that intensity of bitterness had beenso apparent in Jeff. She received no enlightenment, however.

  "What's the play at--Orrville?"

  Bud's question had a suggestion of anxiety in it.

  Jeff rose from his chair. He passed one hand wearily across his browand smoothed back his lank fair hair.

  "Oh, it's just arbitration," he said. "The parties agree to take mydecision in some grazing rights instead of handing good dollars over tothe law. It's Dug. Dug McFarlane, and a feller called Peters. Petersfiggers he's got rights on Dug's land, and--well, Dug just guesses hehasn't."

  "When are you starting?" Nan inquired, from her place at the window.

  "I'll need to get
off early to-morrow." Jeff's eyes were on the girl.The change in them had become pronounced. Warmth had replacedfrigidity, and the smile in them was real now. "It's tough on top ofmy home-coming, eh, Nan? Maybe Evie'll feel lonesome too--when I tellher. Still, these things are part of the game, and I can't weaken on'em. It's these toughs around I'm worrying 'll scare her. I was kindof wondering if you'd----"

  "You don't need to worry a thing." Nan's smile was full of a staunchreassurance. And her readiness came with a spontaneity which hadnothing to do with Jeff's wife. It was the result of her delight andpride in this man himself who was called upon, and looked to, forleadership, in this little world of theirs.

  "You'll----"

  "I'll handle things here for you, Jeff." Nan gave him no chance tomake his appeal. "Elvine shall be as safe as we can make her. She cancome right over here till you get back, or I'll sleep at your place.It shall be just as she feels. She shan't be lonesome, and I guess myDaddy an' me we're equal to any crowd of rustlers."

  The genuineness, even enthusiasm of the girl was quite transparent.Nor was the man insensible to it. For all his preoccupation herealized something of his debt to these people, to Nan. It was a debthe had never attempted to pay, and now its rapid mounting made evenultimate payment seem doubtful.

  "You're pretty good to me, Nan," was all he trusted himself to say.

  Nan shook her head in smiling denial.

  "Women need to help each other in--these parts."

  But Jeff did not accept her excuse.

  "Maybe that's so," he said thoughtfully. "But it don't alter things alittle bit. I'd just like to feel I deserved it. But I don't andcan't feel that way. Some day----" He laughed and made a helplessgesture. "But why talk? It's too easy, and it's mighty cheap anyway.I----"

  But Nan was pointing out of the window. She welcomed a suddendiversion.

  "It's Elvine coming right along over." Then, as Jeff craned forward:"Say, she's a dandy horsewoman. Get a look at her. Gracious, shemight have been born in the saddle."

  But Jeff had not waited. He was out on the veranda to greet his wifeas she came. And just for one instant Nan caught a glimpse of thelight in his eyes which the sight of Elvine had conjured. All thecoldness she had witnessed that morning, all the merciless purpose,even the simple friendliness he had displayed toward her. These weregone. Their place had been taken by a light of passionate regard forthe woman who had yielded herself to him. For a moment it seemed as ifher own emotions must stifle her. But the next she was within the roomagain, her eyes merrily dancing, talking to the parent she adored.

  "Say, you Daddy of mine," she said, almost boisterously, "haven't youwork to be done, the same as I have? Shame on you for dallying. Shameon us both. Come right along, sir. Come right along at once." Then,as he moved toward the window, "No, no, you dear blundering Daddy, notthat way! That's reserved. The back door for us, sure. Come along."

  And the great Bud permitted himself to be hustled from the room throughthe kitchen way.

  Nan's effort was only partially successful. In a few moments thefugitives were urgently recalled to hear the news of the disaster atSpruce Crossing, which Elvine had brought with her. And during thediscussion which followed Nan was forced to stand by while the handsomewoman who had supplanted her occupied the centre of attention.

  Somehow the news which held the others, drawing forth hot condemnationfrom Bud, and the bitter comment of Jeff, for once left Nan cold.Somehow it seemed so small a thing compared with that other disasterwhich was always with her. Her whole attention was held by Jeff andhis wife. Not a detail of expression or emotion, as the swift wordsflowed between them, was lost upon her. And the exquisite pain of itall was excruciating.

  The great love of the man was so apparent. There was a moment, even,just as Jeff and Elvine were about to take their departure, when Nancould have almost cried out. It had followed upon an expression ofElvine's dislike and fear of the man who conveyed the news to her.

  Jeff took up her complaint in no half-hearted fashion, and, somehow,the injustice of his attitude and his obvious thought for his wifealone brought the girl's hot resentment very near the surface.

  "Yes," he said. "He's a tough, sure. I've kept him on because he'sone of the brightest cow-hands east of the mountains. But you'reright, Evie. And I can't stand for you being scared by the 'hands' onmy ranch. I'll have to get rid of him." Then, as he sat in the saddlewith Elvine on her pony at his side, he had taken in Nan and her fatherin a smiling, comprehensive glance. "I guess Evie's some sport actingthe way she's done," he declared with a lover's pride. "I allow we oweher a heap of thanks, eh, Bud?"

  Bud nodded.

  "We're mighty grateful, ma'am," he declared, heartily in his formalway. "Guess we all thank you, sure." Then he turned to Jeff moredirectly. "I'll get busy right away. That'll leave you free to getright on doping out that reward notice this afternoon, an' generallyfixing things before you make the trail to-morrow morning."

  Then they had taken their departure. And with their going Nan hastilyreturned to the parlor.

  Bud followed her almost on the instant. He had moved with incredibleswiftness, which is often the way of heavy men under stress of feeling.Already the tears were gathering in the girl's eyes when his words fellupon her ears.

  "Say, little gal," he said, with a deep note of sympathy in hisrumbling tones, "we're bein' hit up pretty bad since Jeff bro't herback home. Maybe we're feelin' 'bout as foolish as we're lookin'. Butwe're goin' to beat the game--sure, eh? We're goin' to beat it becausewe're built that way, an'--we got the grit to do it."

  * * * * * *

  The horses were walking leisurely over the summer grass. The house wasless than two miles distant. There was no immediate hurry. Besides,Elvine was reading the letter which Jeff had handed her in reply to herinquiry as to the contemplated journey which Bud had mentioned.

  Jeff was observing her closely as she read. There were no doubts inhis mind. He was not even seeking the effect of the letter. He wasdwelling with a lover's delight upon the picture she made.

  Nor was his approval extravagant. Any one must have admitted thejustice of it. Nan had admitted it when she beheld her in a prairiesaddle, on a prairie pony, with only the wide wealth of grass-land forher setting. Elvine in the saddle suggested a single identity betweenhorse and rider. Her riding suit was expensively simple, and cut asonly such suits can be cut. The figure beneath it was displayed to itsfullest advantage. There was no studied pose. Just the perfection ofhorsemanship which demands an intimate freedom at all times. Then herdark head under her carefully adjusted prairie hat. The shining massesof hair, obvious in their wealth even under careful dressing. Thesoftly healthy cheeks, and the perfect profile as she pored over theletter in her hand.

  Presently Elvine looked up. She did not turn at once to the husband ather side. Her gaze was directed ahead. It ignored the scene ofundulating plain, and the distant ramparts of wooded hills. It sawnothing but the images in her own brain, and the conjured thoughts of atroubled heart and conscience.

  "You see it's important," Jeff said, with a feeling that the news inthe letter had caused disappointment.

  "I s'pose it is."

  There was a curious lack of interest in the woman manner. Her tone waslistless.

  "I'm afraid I'll have to go." The man felt he was apologizing, and itseemed absurd that apology should be required. Then he reminded her."You see, these things come with my work as President. It's prettygood if you think. Guess I'll only be from home one night."

  "You _must_ go--I s'pose?"

  The man's eyes widened.

  "Sure."

  "But it seems unfair you should be put to all this for nothing."

  Jeff shook his head.

  "Why, I don't guess it's any worry. Besides, it's an honor. You see,Evie, I'm out all I know to set up a big position for you. And it'sthese calls as President of the
Western Union are going to fix thingsthe way I'd have them."

  His eyes had somehow become serious. There was even a lack of hisrecent warmth in them. He had not expected any protest from his wife.A shade of disappointment at his going perhaps. But that was all.

  "You're at the call of anybody around to settle disputes?"

  "Only where the interests of cattle-raising are affected."

  Elvine handed him back the letter. She did not turn to him. A curiousset to her lips warned Jeff that in some way his contemplated journeywas adversely affecting her. Nor was it merely the disappointment hehad been prepared for. He felt there was need to say more, though theneed of it was obscure. It had never been his way to appeal, but heresigned himself to the reflection that his life had been entirelychanged by his marriage. He was no longer responsible only to himself.With an effort he flung aside an inclination to resentment.

  "Say, Evie," he cried, "it's a bit tough on you having to leave youeven for a day just as we've got back to home. It's that way with me,too. I just don't fancy going a small bit. But I daren't refuse DugMcFarlane. He's one of the biggest men around, and I'll need all thefriends I can round up. There's another thing. I've got it back of mymind later on to form a Trust amongst the growers, and Dug's a mostimportant concern in such a scheme. I'd be crazy to refuse. Why, Ijust couldn't refuse anyway. You're going to help me, dear, aren'tyou? I've talked to Bud and Nan, and fixed things so you won't belonesome. Nan's promised to sleep in the house with you, so you shan'tfeel that way. Or you could go over to her. It's just one night,that's all."

  It may have been his obvious sincerity, it may have been that thewoman's objections were really the result of disappointment only. Atany rate a distinct change came over her, and she turned to him with asmile.

  "I'm just too selfish, Jeff," she cried. "But--but it did seemhard--at first. Go? Of course you must go. And you're not to worryabout me. Nor is Nan. I wouldn't have her come over for me foranything, and I'm not going to sleep out of my home, either. Youneedn't be scared I'll be lonesome. I've got all this beautiful worldaround me, and all your interests. And rustlers? Why, I'm not scaredof the worst rustlers living."

  A delighted sense of gratitude replaced Jeff's every other feeling.

  "Say," he cried, with a sudden vehemence, "you've good grit, Evie.You're a bully soul. You're the sort would set a man crazy to corralthe world, and set it at your feet. I'll get right back quick. Iwon't wait an hour more than I need."

  Elvine's decision had been forced upon her, but once having taken itshe threw something more into her words than the mere encouragementthat seemed necessary.

  "No," she declared, her eyes shining. "You're not even to hurry back.Get right through with your work, or any schemes you have to arrangewhile you're there, before you think of me." Then her voice softenedto a great tenderness. "I want you to win through in everything youundertake, Jeff. I don't care now for a thing else in the world. Youdo believe that, don't you? Oh, Jeff, I want you always to believethat. Whatever may come in our life together, I want you always toknow I love you better--better than the whole world, and your--yourhappiness is just my happiness. Without your happiness I can never behappy. It was selfishness made me demur at first. You believe that,don't you? I have always been very, very selfish. It was nothingelse. You don't think there was anything else, do you? I sort of feelI'd always have you in my sight, near me. I'm happy then, because Ifeel nothing can ever come between us. When you're away, I don't know,but it sort of seems as if shadows grow up threatening me. I felt thatway this morning. I felt that way when I read your letter. But thesethings just shan't be. I love you with all that's in me, and--you loveme. Nothing shall ever come between us. Say that's so, Jeff.Nothing. Nothing."

  The man responded with all a lover's impetuosity. He gave her to thefull that reassurance of which she stood in need. But for all hissincerity it was as useless as if it had been left unspoken.

  The letter from Dug McFarlane at Orrville, the recognition of her bythe man Sikkem Bruce, had warned Elvine that the sands of her time ofhappiness were running out. She felt she knew that a gape of despairwas already yawning at her feet.