Kate Boyles Bingham

“ The pleasant fragrance of new bread just from the oven, mixed with the faint, spicy odor of cinnamon rolls, floated into the cheerless sitting-room. Mary, idly watching Mother White through the open door as she bustled about in a wholesome-looking blue-checked gingham apron, longed with a childish intensity to be out where there were human warmth and companionship. It was such a weary struggle to keep cobwebs out of her head in that lonely, carpetless sitting-room, and to keep the pipe that reared itself above the squat stove, from changing into a cottonwood tree. ”

“ At that moment a tiny tongue of flame leaped up away to the front of them, gleaming in the darkness like a beacon light. Now there were two—they grew, spread, leaped heavenward in mad revel. Langford’s heart sank like lead. He groaned in an exceeding bitterness of spirit. The worst had happened. Would they be in time? These claim shanties burn like paper. And the girl! He doubted not that she had sustained her share of the good fight. She had fought like a man, she must die like a man,—would be the outlaw’s reasoning. ”

“ In less than ten minutes they were all mounted and ready, five of them, silent, full to the brim of reckless hardihood, prime for any adventure that would serve to break the monotony of their lives. More than that, every fibre of their being, when touched, would respond, a tuneful, sounding string of loyalty to the traditions of the Three Bars and to its young master. Each was fully armed. They asked no question. Yet there could be no doubt of a surprise when the time came for action. They were always prepared, these boys of the most popular ranch outfit west of the river. ”

“ Gordon my troubles,” said Mary, gravely. “I should not dream of intruding with such petty affairs while his big fight is on—his glorious fight. He will avenge my father. Nothing matters but that. He has enough to bear—without a woman’s trivial grievances.”
“But he would be glad to take that little trouble for you if he knew,” persisted Louise. She was feeling small and of little worth in the strength of Mary’s sweeping independence. She was hauntingly sure that in like circumstances she would be weak enough to take her trouble to—a man like Gordon, for instance. ”

“ They saw no one whom they knew, though men were still dodging out from unexpected places and hurrying down the street. It seemed impossible that the inconveniently built, diminutive prairie hotel could accommodate so many people. Louise found herself wondering where they had been packed away. The men, carelessly dressed as they were, their hair shaggy and unkempt, always with pistols in belt or hip-pocket or hand, made her shiver with dread. They looked so wild and weird and fierce in the dimly lighted hall. She clutched Mary’s arm nervously, but no thought of returning entered her mind. ”

“ Nemesis was as sure to follow at the hands of the fellowship of rustlers as ever it was at the hands of the Secret Tribunal of old.
Williston was chafing under his helplessness as the jaded pony climbed doggedly this last bluff. To the right of his path a hawk was fluttering frantically just above the reach of a basilisk-eyed rattlesnake, whose baneful charm the ill-advised bird was not able to resist.
“Devil take you, Battle Ax, but you’re slow,” muttered Williston, utterly indifferent to the outcome of this battle royal. ”

“ But this big, new country with its infinite possibilities—give it time—it would form men out of raw material and make over men mistakenly made when that was possible, or else show the dividing line so clearly that the goats might not herd with the sheep. Some day, it would be fit for women—like Louise. Not now. Much labor and sorrow must be lived through; there must be many mistakes, many experiments tried, there must be much sacrifice and much refining, and many must fall and lose in the race before its big destiny be worked out and it be fit for women—like Louise. ”

“ He wanted to ride off a strange, enervating dejection that had laid hold of him the moment his last testimony had gone in. It all seemed so pitifully inadequate—without Williston,—now that it was all in. Why had he undertaken it? It could only go for another defeat counted against him. Though what was one defeat more or less when there had been so many? It would be nothing new. Was he not pursuing merely the old beaten trail? Why should the thought weigh so heavily now? Can a man never attain to that higher—or lower, which is it?—altitude of strifeless, unregretful hardness? ”

“ The sorry day predicted for the cattle had come. The town was full of cattle. They hugged the south side of the buildings—standing in stolid patience with drooping heads. Never a structure in the whole town—house or store or barn or saloon—but was wind-break for some forlorn bunch huddled together, their faces always turned to the southeast, for the wind went that way. It was an odd sight. It was also a pitiful one. Hundreds had run with the wind from the higher range altitude, seeking the protection of the bluffs. The river only stopped the blind, onward impetus. ”

“ Louise tried to scream aloud. Her throat was parched. A sudden paralysis held her speechless. It was like a nightmare. She writhed and fought desperately to shake herself free of this dumb horror. The cold damp came out on her forehead. Afterward she remembered that she knew the man and that it was this knowledge that had caused her nightmare of horror to be so unspeakably dreadful. Now she was conscious only of the awfulness of not being able to cry out. If she could only awaken Mary! The man lifted his arm. ”

“ Paul Langford is on his trail. Give me two men like Langford and that anachronism—an honest man west of the river—Williston, and you can have the rest, sheriff and all.”
“Mr. Williston—he has been unfortunate, has he not? He is such a gentleman, and a scholar, surely.”
“Surely. He is one of the finest fellows I know. A man of the most sensitive honor. If such a thing can be, I should say he is too honest, for his own good. A man can be, you know. There is nothing in the world that cannot be overdone.” ”

“ One man, maybe, creeping up like some foul beast of prey to strike in the dark. Was he still lurking near, abiding another opportunity?
It took but a moment for Williston to have the rifles cocked and ready. Mary took her own from him with a hand that trembled ever so slightly.
“What will you do, father?” she asked, holding her rifle lovingly and thanking God in a swift, unformed thought for every rattlesnake or other noxious creature whose life she had put out while doing her man’s work of riding the range,—work which had given her not only a man’s courage but a man’s skill as well. ”

“ Having come so far, to refuse to go on seemed like turning back with her hand already on the plough, so with a stout heart she had wired Richard Gordon that she would go. But it was pretty hard now, to be sure, and pretty dreary, coming into Velpen knowing that she would see no one she knew in all the wide, wide world. The thought choked her and the impish demon, Loneliness, he of the smirk and horns and devil’s eyes, loomed leeringly before her again. ”

“ From their east window they could see the gleaming red splotches that were fires on the flat.
“What do you mean, Mary?” asked Louise, dreamily. She was thinking how much sterner Gordon grew every day. He still had a smile for his friends, but he always smiled under defeat. That is what hurt so. She had noticed that very evening at supper how gray his hair was getting at the temples. He had looked lonely and sad. Was it then all so hopeless?
“I mean, to make a living for myself,” Mary answered, earnestly. “There is no one in the world belonging to me now. ”

“ Could one be sure nothing had escaped one’s vigilance? Starlight was deceptive, and one’s eyes must needs shift to keep the mastery over their little horizon. It might well be that some one of those ghostly and hidden sentinels patrolling the lonely homestead had wormed himself past staring eyeballs, crawling, crawling, crawling; it might well be that at any moment a sudden light flaring up from some corner would tell the tale of the end.
Now and then could be heard the soft thud of a hoof as some one rode to execute an order. Occasionally, something moved out by the sheds. ”

“ One sees far on the plains, and two years out of civilization are not enough to make a girl forget the use of a mirror, even if it be but a broken sliver, propped up on a pine-board dressing table. She looked strangely grown-up despite her short, rough skirt and badly scuffed leather riding-leggings. Langford stared at her with a startled look of mingled admiration and astonishment. ”

“ Gordon repressed a rising oath, and cried out, “If you dare—,” but Lawson had already dared. His heavy step was upon Louise’s frail support. She thought shudderingly, intuitively, of the dark, swift, angry current under its thin veneer of ice—the current that was always hungry and ate islands and fertile fields in ravenous mouthfuls. She ran back to the end of her plank.
“Have no fear,” said the drunken man, blandly. He stepped to the bare ice at her side. “A man can’t walk pigeon-toed always,” he confided. “Besides, there’s not a particle of danger. ”

“ The astonished word burst from Gordon’s lips. “Williston! Is it really you?”
“None other, my dear Gordon! Sorry I startled you. I saw your light and heard your voice speaking to your horse, and as you were the very man I was on the point of seeking, I just naturally came forward, forgetting that my friends would very likely look upon me in the light of a ghost.”
“Williston! My dear fellow!” repeated Gordon again. “It is too good to be true,” he cried, leaping from his mare and extending both hands cordially. “Shake, old man! My, the feel of you is—bully. You are flesh and blood all right. ”

“ Until they took to the hills, the horses could scarcely lift their feet, so great would be the weight of the sticky black earth which clung in immense chunks to their hoofs. When they struck the hills, it was better and they pressed forward rapidly. Once only the sheriff had asserted that he had run across the famous outlaw. Black had resisted savagely and had escaped, sending back the bold taunt that he would never be taken alive. Such a message might mean death to some of the plucky posse now making for the old-time haunts of the desperado. ”

“ Amused tolerance is a powerful weapon on more fields than one where men war with their wits. It is a wise man who cultivates the art.
“We have chosen the right man,” whispered Langford to Mary. They had secured seats near the front and were of those who knew the game was being played.
“He is great,” returned Mary. If only her father could be there to help! The odds were fearful. Louise, sitting at her table within the bar, with faith in this man’s destiny sufficient to remove mountains, smiled down at her friends.
“Louise is an angel,” said Mary, affectionately. ”

“ When Paul hastened around to the front of the building, the crowd was nearly all in the street. The tension was relaxed. A dazed expression prevailed—brought to life by the suddenness with which the affair had developed to such interesting proportions and the quickness with which it had flattened out to nothing. For Sanderson had disappeared, completely, mysteriously, and in all the level landscape, there was no trace of him nor sign.
“See a balloon, Jim?” asked Langford, slapping him on the shoulder with the glimmer of a smile. “Well, your red-headed friend won’t be down in a parachute—yet. ”

“ The Boss never tolerated much along that line. He had drunk with some congenial cronies from the Circle E outfit complimentary to the future well-being and increasing wealth of this already well-known and flourishing cattle ranch. Of course he must drink a return compliment to the same rose-colored prosperity for the Three Bars, which he did and sighed for more. That made two, and two were the limit, and here was the limit overreached already; for there had always to be a last little comforter to keep him from nodding in his saddle. ”

“ Are we all weaklings?”
A faint, appreciative smile passed over Williston’s face. No, Langford did not look a weakling, neither had the professed humiliation lowered his proud head. Here was a man—a godlike type, with his sunny hair and his great strength. This was the man who had thrown not only the whole weight of his personal influence, which was much, but his whole-hearted and aggressive service as well, into the long and bitter campaign for county sovereignty, and had thus turned the scale in favor of the scarcely hoped-for victory over the puppet of the cattle rustlers. ”