Caroline Lockhart

“ The celebration of San Juan's day began long before daylight, and the Montejos were out by lantern-light killing the goats under Nan's window; men, women, and children shrieking with laughter at the struggles of the dying animals.
By the time the sun rose, the drinking and feasting was well under way. At ten o'clock the songs and laughter were boisterous, but still good-natured. All the village and its guests in gala-day attire were flocking toward the plaza. ”

“ It was the one topic of conversation in dobes which nestled in lonely bosques, and tumble-down huts huddling in sun-baked arroyos, while it is no exaggeration to say that the whole of Las Rubertas was aquiver.
They chortled at the thought that a gringo was paying for their pleasure; for, like other inferior races, the low-caste Mexicans invariably mistake generosity for weakness, and Nan, in thinking to buy immunity from their thieving, was reckoning upon persons who as a class are devoid of gratitude. ”

“ Spiser's ideals were no higher than himself, and Spiser was merely a crafty, masterful brute.
Nan's clear eyes, her air of good breeding, her manner with its mixture of girlish candor and reserve, her conversation and dress, which bore every earmark of education and refinement, conveyed nothing to him beyond the fact that an unusual and uncommonly attractive young woman had arrived within his field of activities ready to walk into a properly constructed web. ”

“ To a man, the boarders cast furtive glances at Nan and grinned sheepishly.
"That cyanide what you passes over the bar makes a man sleep as if he was dead," came the retort finally from a rash youth at whom every one stared for daring to raise his voice above a whisper.
"Ling," shouted the landlord, "quit your millin' around and git here with this lady's grub." He spoke to a panic-stricken Chinaman. Then, clearing his throat and inhaling a breath which placed a strain upon his shirt-studs, he inquired:
"What might I call your name. Miss? My name is Poth—Fritz Poth." ”

“ Bob shook his head.
"No; I don't believe it. Ben is honest. It's either a mistake or a conspiracy."
"It's dreadful—to be arrested—in jail! It sounds so disgraceful—and common. You read about people who commit arson and bigamy and murder, but somehow it doesn't seem real to you—you would never meet such people in a thousand years—and then when you really know somebody that's been arrested and put in jail why, it seems too terribly shocking for words, even when he's innocent."
"It's not a pleasant thing for you to be mixed up in, Nan," he answered gravely. ”

“ I'm a bad lot! I'm all the erring daughters since the world began, rolled into one. And the queer part of it is, the more they oppose me, the more determined I am to carry out my program.
"I know I'm heartless, disobedient, ungrateful, a serpent they've warmed in their bosoms, and it doesn't budge me. I'm going to do what I want to do just once in my life if I never do it again. Ever since I was born I've been doing mostly what some one else wanted me to do. Now I'm going to do what I want to do, if I hang for it!"
"You'll only get a life sentence, Nan, women are seldom hanged." ”

“ The girl was dressed in divided skirts of faded black calico, and her shirt-waist parted company with her skirt-band untidily. Her gaudy, flowered hat was awry and Nan gave her only a passing glance. Her eyes remained upon the man who rode by her side.
He sat his horse with the cowboy's careless grace, half slouching over the horn of his Gallup saddle, his broad shoulders swaying with the motion of the horse, while the confidence of physical strength showed in every line and movement. ”

“ The floor-manager of a baile is supreme, and to ignore his commands is a serious breach of etiquette, if not an insult.
But who could ignore Ignacio Bojarques? Certainly no unattached woman in Las Rubertas could be indifferent to this dashing beau. With his oiled and scented hair, a row of perfect teeth flashing beneath a fascinating mustache, a pair of bold and roving eyes, dapper grace and a genius for meeting all social exigencies, Ignacio Bojarques was the last man to lurk bashfully in the shadow of obscurity. ”

“ Bob's horse was all but unmanageable.
"It gets me." Ben still searched the cañon walls with his eyes.
Then Edith's raw-boned cayuse squealed.
"Good God!" Ben's voice made his listeners blood run cold.
A sullen, unceasing roar reached their ears. Faint it was, but growing louder even in the second that they listened.
"It's water! A cloudburst! For God's sake, give 'em the spurs—it's comin' down the cañon!" Ben struck Nan's horse with his rein's end. "You've got to ride for your life, girl!" ”

“ Nan, and I hope you will be happy!"
"Bob!" She laid her hand upon his arm.
"Don't pity me. Nan. This disappointment has come to many a better man than I am. You've been frank and fair with me. I bear you no resentment. There is no bitterness toward you in my heart—nothing but love." ”

“ Swarthy Mexicans, lean, oily-haired, showed their white teeth frequently as they whispered together. Brawny miners and grizzled prospectors, the more dapper merchants of the town, the few women of Hopedale in antique fashions, and innumerable small boys dangling their thin legs from the window-sills made up the audience.
While Nan flashed occasional surreptitious glances at the foreman of the L.X. outfit, its manager in the seat behind her was studying her piquant profile with fascinated intentness. ”

“ The grating of the brake upon the cart-wheel brought a group of cowpunchers to the door of the bunk-house to quite frankly stare as Spiser drove past the door to the square white cottage across the road on the bank of the stream.
"How are you, boys?" he said briefly, and they responded with equal brevity:
"How are you?"
Nowhere did Spiser's appearance seem to evoke enthusiasm. Nan was not thinking of this, but of the startled, even shocked look in Ben Evans's eyes when they rested upon her in recognition. There was no mistaking the surprise and disappointment they held. ”

“ The Mexican plied the quirt, and still the horse refused, while Bojarques in his fright screamed at it like a hysterical woman.
Without warning the bank caved beneath the horse's feet, and horse and rider sank with a splash to rise again in the swirling flood.
"Look at him—the crazy fool—he thinks he can swim it!" There was a certain compassion in the cowboys' faces, for the horse that was struggling gallantly in the yellow flood. It could as easily have breasted a cloudburst.
"If its head goes under once, they're gone; that water's more'n half sand." ”

“ It was a hymn she had learned—the longest in the hymn-book—nine verses and doleful—about death, and worms—but she caroled it like a bird—a flashing yellow-bird—with her eyes dancing and her mouth dimpling at the corners, as though death and worms were the most joyful and joyous things in all the world when one was wearing gold beads and shimmering silk. ”

“ That sparkle Spiser liked leaped into her eyes.
"What—no wine?"
Nan replied coldly:
"No wine."
The cook glanced at her oddly as he placed platters upon the table.
"I'm sure you'll change your mind," Spiser replied, unruffled. "I always keep a little out here on the ranch for celebrations," he added. "Clarence, fill Miss Galbraith's glass."
This time Nan's eyes flashed unmistakably.
"Positively not," and she lifted her small hand in a decided negative.
Spiser shrugged his shoulders.
"Suit yourself. That'll be all, Clarence, we won't want anything more to-night." ”

“ As Nan's horse ambled easily through the soft sand of the road leading into the square, she saw its sides lined with the old men, the women and the children of the village, and all the country round, while every youth who owned or could borrow a horse was a dashing caballero. ”

“ Gallagher, squatting on her heels on the shady side of the house, was not nearly so indifferent to the discomforts of the Blakely home with its riotous little Blakelys, as she appeared, for she found an opportunity to say to Nan:
"I think it is better that we ride to Las Rubertas—seven miles—because here, señorita"—she rolled her eyes with something of droll humor in their depths—"there are too many niños. You will not sleep very well, perhaps." ”

“ The effort of shouting brought on a paroxysm of coughing, violent, tearing, racking his thin chest and swelling the veins in his temples.
"He's a lunger! put him out!" Voice after voice took up the brutal yell of protest. "No lungers wanted! Get off! Get out!" Then a turnip hit him full and hard in his sunken chest.
Involuntarily Nan sprang to her feet, and not knowing what she did, turned and faced the audience behind her, with her eyes flashing and her small, red mouth curved in scorn. ”

“ It seemed to Nan that Spiser quailed before the woman's gaze.
"Look out, be careful!" His tone was a threat, but Nan detected the bravado in it and she was sure that in some way her strange protector held the whip-hand. And he was married—this was the secret, or a part of it, which explained Mrs. Gallagher's power. She knew his past, his wife—poor soul! Nan looked at him with curling lips.
"You talk too much for the good of your health, mujer," Spiser stooped for his hat, which he had placed under the bench. ”

“ All that day as she searched the arroyos and the thickets for the missing cattle, the thought of her mother's foolish love-charm returned persistently until a half-formed purpose grew in her mind to try on Ben the charm of the heart of the wild dove which, if it did no good, at least would do no harm. ”

“ Ben, who had ridden to Las Rubertas prideful and elated over his ambitious venture, rode back to the Longhorn bosque crestfallen by Nan's disapproval, while Nan, in her sensitive pride, all but writhed as she tried to imagine Bob's opinion of Ben.
It could be nothing less than the mild contempt a man like Bob would feel for an inferior when that person acted as such. She was ashamed for Ben, and fearful that Bob would see her shame. ”

“ Poth's disparaging voice in the doorway caused Nan to lift her eyes from the magazine she was reading in the shade of the Cottonwood, which had become her favorite seat during the week that had elapsed since her arrival in Hopedale, to look at a prairie schooner drawn by a thin gray horse and a little mule which was crawling up the street. The wagon had been mended often with baling wire and the harness was a patch-work of ropes, chains, and leather straps. ”

“ A plank across two stout whisky-barrels, made a satisfactory desk and, what with a short ax-handle for a gavel, a pitcher and glass, together with the armful of imposing volumes which the judge laid upon it, the furnishings, though novel, seemed complete.
The judge sniffed as he sat down. He looked at the whisky-barrels—they had long been empty; then he reached for the pitcher and regarded its contents long and steadfastly before he applied its side to his lips.
"Ah-h-h!" It was not known in Hopedale that the judge derived such satisfaction from a cooling drink of water. ”

“ Nan made a curtsy in appreciation of his compliment.
"You think," she asked archly, "that the Señorita Perfecta Torres will be only a dingy moth beside me?"
"She'll look like a horse-fly," Ben returned heartily, "alongside a butterfly."
Edith was silent. Her small moment of triumph was already a thing of the past. Ben never had told her that she looked like a flaming cactus flower in spring, or likened her to a butterfly.
All Las Rubertas was assembled in the rear of the Señor Apedaca's long dobe store building when Nan, Edith, Ben and Mrs. Gallagher arrived. ”

“ The Mexicans frowned perceptibly, but the faces of their women lighted with covert smiles of welcome. The socially gifted floor-manager advanced with expressions of pleasure, which his eyes belied, and requested them with velvet firmness to lay their so large six-shooters in the woodbox until such time as he, the floor-manager, should, with so great regret, see them depart.
The cowboys' looked at one another uncertainly, suspicion written on each face.
"I feels kind of necked without my gun," demurred Joe Brindell.
"Naked!" declared the cook, "'tain't modest, I says." ”

“ It was inconceivable to Bob that a girl like Nan could be seriously attached to Ben who, in spite of his many admirable qualities, lacked fineness. He had stubbornly refused to admit, in the face of the evidence to the contrary, that her interest in the cowboy was more than a caprice, an ephemeral fancy to which a girl of Nan's temperament might be subject, but at last he was convinced of its sincerity. Mésalliances were occurring everyday to confound society. ”

“ They drew their horses to the roadside, huddling close to let the cowboys pass if they would, and fight if they must. The only one among them who was in no doubt as to what he should do was Bojarques. With the first hoof-beat he promptly turned and ran.
The cowboys thundered by, passing the Mexicans grouped by the roadside without a glance, for they knew well enough whose horse kicked up the dust ahead.
Ignacio had no need to look over his shoulder to know that they were gaining. He rode far over his horse's neck, sick with fear. ”

“ In the end I gave in and went down to the Jersey coast where the mosquitoes at least fight according to the rules of civilized warfare, and gave myself up to the sensation of being hopelessly in love. I see plainly that I am a weak character and a poor Worm."
"It's good of you, Bob," said Nan gratefully, "to be so terribly decent about this outbreak of mine. It's comforting to find some one who can take it philosophically. It's made an awful row at home. I'm regarded as little short of a criminal—the wild 'un' of the flock.
"I am tremendously fond of my family, individually. They are dears. ”

“ Once more Ben Evans fixed upon Nan his frank stare of admiration as he and his supporters tramped past on their way out, and again Nan felt that curious quaver of excitement when their eyes met. The foreman of the L.X. outfit attracted her more than she cared to admit, and she wanted to know him with an eagerness of which she was ashamed. ”

“ And they are not good to you, Rosario—the Fuentes—your mother's people?"
"Like the dogs, I get what is left."
"Do they whip you, Rosario?"
"Sí, sí, but it is not that."
"What, then?"
"I have no tunica—what you call dress—to wear, and to-morrow afternoon is the las' day of school."
"And that is a very important day!"
"O, sí, sí, señorita!" Rosario's eyes grew big with the importance of it. "All the people come to hear the lessons and to see us speak the piece from the platform. ”