Frances Parker

“ Livingston drove along and took her up to see her Fritz's grave," she explained.
"Now then, my girl, you look out for Louisa! There's nothing like consoling grief to bring two hearts close together. How did you ever come to allow him to carry her away up there and do the consolation act? You'll sure lose him now! I thought you had more diplomacy!"
She laughed a little.
"Unless a man loved me with every atom of his being, with his whole life, I couldn't feel the least attraction for him in that way," she said. "That is the way I have planned for the one man to love, my ideal man, Syd. ”

“ Late one afternoon during the following week Livingston drove up to Harris' ranch and helped from his buggy a small, fair-haired girl who looked with wonderment at the squalid log buildings, the squealing, scurrying pigs and children, and the usual group of roughly dressed men waiting for their supper. The pain in her eyes deepened, and she clasped Livingston's arm like a frightened child.
"O, mein Freund, I fear!" she cried, drawing back.
"Come," he urged gently. "There is nothing to fear. You must trust me, for I am indeed your friend, little girl. ”

“ They all felt the grief of the German girl, and each showed his sympathy in a different manner. Sydney talked, often in an aimless, senseless way, but obviously to divert the unhappy girl. Hope filled each pause, concluded every description with rich drollery and mimicry, while Livingston's quiet attentiveness betokened the deepest compassion. Even William gave her many smiles and made numerous witty remarks, which were wholly lost upon her.
"You're in a very bad crowd of people, Miss Louisa," said Sydney. "But after awhile you'll be so much like us that you won't notice how bad we are!" ”

“ It was a ride for their lives. Ten miles at night over a rough country, through tangled underbrush, and deep matted grass, across stony creek bottoms and rocky hills, ever onward toward Fox Creek at the speed of the wind.
Time and again the horses stumbled to their knees, but the riders might have been a part of them, so securely did they keep their seats. The pinto began to lag, at which the girl stopped for an instant, rode behind, and lashed it furiously with her strong quirt. Then for a time it kept up with the thoroughbred, but could not long continue the speed. ”

“ Look at Clarice—she never knew a moment's happiness until Henry Van Rensselaer died! Yes, I think marriage settles a girl all right! What terrible mismated failures on every hand! It's simply appalling, Jim! I've never yet known one perfectly happy couple, and how any girl who sees this condition about her, everywhere, can dream her own ideal love dream, picture her ideal man, and plan and believe in an ideal life, while she herself is surrounded by such pitiful object-lessons, is a wonder! ”

“ The girl recoiled from the frenzied woman, shutting out the sight with her hands and moving backward step by step until she leaned against the smooth logs of the building. There the foolishness of her sudden fright presented itself. Should the grimaces of a weazened old squaw frighten her into a fit, or should she pick up the bony thing and throw her over the top of the tepee? An impulse to do the latter came over her—then to her fancy she could hear the crashing of brittle bones. What she did do, however, was to take her hands away from her eyes and look at the old witch fearlessly. ”

“ Civilization was coming surely. What though his lands extended beyond his good eyesight, were not these interlopers squatting on every mile of creek in the surrounding country? The open range would some time be a thing of the past. That green ridge of mountains to the west,—his mountains, his and the Indians, where he had enjoyed unmolested reign for many years,—were they not filling them as bees fill a hive, so filling them with their offensive bands of sheep and small cow-ranches that his cattle had all they could do to obtain a footing? ”

“ When she had dragged herself up the mountain side, hope and fear alternately filling her heart, and hastening her footsteps, a sudden weakness came over her as she saw on the summit the stalwart figure of Livingston. Then it seemed to her that the night had been a mere dream, or at least ridiculous. How could such a strong, brave-looking man require a girl's assistance? It was preposterous! She seemed to shrink into herself, in a little cuddled heap among the rocks. ”

“ You and I together in a little world of our own! How I love you, my girl, love you! I may not have the right to this much happiness, but there is no moral law that man or God has made to prevent a man from saying to the woman he loves, 'I love you!' Are you—do you care that I have said it?"
"You must not—tell me again," she said, in a voice so forced that it seemed to belong to some other person. Then she turned abruptly and led her horse past him, up the bank of the creek, to Louisa waiting before the tent. ”

“ I'd think it would make a girl feel nervous."
"But not Hope," replied Carter. "She's used to it; besides she's not like other girls. She's as fearless as a lion. You can't scare her. If she was a little more timid I wouldn't think about worrying over her, but she's so blame self-reliant! She knows she's as quick as chain lightning, and she's chockful of confidence. For my own part, I wish she'd never learned to shoot a gun."
"It strikes me she's pretty able to take care of herself," said O'Hara. ”

“ Hope found herself among too many rough characters to feel safe without a gun concealed beneath her blouse or jacket, yet rough as the men were, they treated this quiet-faced girl with the utmost respect, perhaps fearing her. Her reputation as a phenomenal shot was not far-fetched, and had reached the remotest corners of the country. She had played with a gun as a baby, had been allowed to use one when a wee child, and had grown up with the passion for firearms strong within her. ”

“ Don't you know we are the very pulse of the world! I had an idea you were taking to it pretty well. You are certainly making a tremendous hit. Even mamma smiles upon you in the most affectionate manner, and is proud for once of her offspring. You are simply gorgeous, Hope—a perfect queen!"
The girl's eyes darkened, her face flushed. "A queen," she retorted. "A queen! Clarice, did you ever sit upon a throne and feel the world slipping out from under you? A woman is never a queen, except to the one man. But you are mistaken, Clarice. I simply cannot adapt myself to this life. ”

“ Hope, upon her knees in the brush, clasped her hands to her throat to stifle a cry.
"Now drive his damn'd sheep into the gulch!" commanded a gruff voice.
Following the pain, a fierce light came into the girl's eyes. Over tightly closed teeth her lips parted dryly. Instinctively the breed boys crept behind her, leaving her upon one knee before the heap of brush. A man leaped into the corral among the stupid sheep, and as he leaped a bullet passed through his hand. ”

“ The boy dug his heels into the pinto's sides, starting off on a bound. She watched him, absent-mindedly, until he disappeared over the hill-top, then she rode away at a lively canter toward the sheep-man's ranch.
A horseman came rapidly toward her before she reached Livingston's gate. It was a slender, boyish figure, who sat his horse with remarkable ease and grace. The girl frowned savagely when she saw him, but only for an instant. He waved his hat above his dark head and called to her from the distance. ”

“ Livingston's been to supper, too, so this is just for the ladies."
"You're a good boy," murmured the girl, taking off her hat and pushing back the mass of dark hair from her forehead. "We'll soon show you our appreciation."
"I guess we'd better light up, it's getting dark a little earlier nowadays," he said, leaving Louisa's side to light the lanterns, which soon flooded the tent with soft radiance.
"I like the twilight," said Clarice to Livingston. "But then I like lots of light, too. Some people can talk best in the dark, but I have to see to talk." ”

“ Poor faithful Fritz! Scarcely more than a boy, yet possessing a man's courage and a man's heart!" He looked up at the girl's face, and was amazed at her indifference. Then he spoke to the men: "Go back and get a wagon and my saddle horse. I will stay here until you return. Leave one of the lanterns."
They hurried away, while the man continued to kneel by the side of the dead herder. Hope watched him, wondering at his depth of feeling. Finally she asked: "Was he some relative of yours?"
"No, only one of my herders—Fritz, a bright, good German boy. Why did you ask, Miss Hathaway?" ”

“ You might as well be in New York for everything except the climate. This is great—this little gulch here and these fresh, sweet tents; but horrors, that place back there! Isn't there any way to go around it when we go back to the ranch, Mr. Livingston? I don't want even to catch sight of it. I never saw such a lot of looking men in all my life!"
They all laughed at the look of abject horror which she put upon her face—all with the exception of Hope, who sat silently in the shadow of Louisa and Sydney. ”

“ A few minutes later, when they had arranged the small, barren room somewhat more comfortably, Hope Hathaway, attired in her dress of Indian make, joined the Harris girls at their frugal meal. Her dark hair was parted in the center and hung in two long braids down her back. That, combined with the beaded dress, fringed properly, her black eyes, and quiet expressionless face, made a very picturesque representation of an Indian girl. Truly she was one of them. The breed girls must have thought something of the same, for they became at their ease, talking very much as girls talk the world over. ”

“ The girl pointed down the dwindling foot-hills to something small and white in the distance.
"See, there are the tents—a mile away. The soldiers—two troops of them—out on a pleasure trip. I will go on—you take your time, and go back with the men."
"I want to go with you," declared the boy, half crying.
"No," said the girl coaxingly. "You must be their guide, and lead them to the ledge of rocks by the sheep-shed. Think how fine it will be to be a real soldier." Then appalled by a new thought: "Oh, but if you should get tired and couldn't lead them there, how would they ever find the place? ”

“ Shooting was a gift with her, perfected by daily practice. In one of her rooms at the ranch the girl had such a collection of firearms as would have filled the heart of many an old connoisseur with longing. It was her one passion, perhaps not a more ex [Pg 44] pensive one than most women possess; yet, for a girl, unique. Her father gratified her in this, just as other fathers gratify their girls in their desire for music, art, fine clothes, or all, as the case may be. But the things that most girls love so well had small place in the life of Hope Hathaway. ”

“ In the cool of evening, between dark and moonrise, the time when night is blackest, and shadows hang like a pall over mountain top and crag, a small group of men might have been seen lounging before old Mother White Blanket's tepee, absorbing the genial warmth that came from her camp-fire, over which the old squaw hovered close. ”

“ While the surgeon bent over Livingston the girl stood close by, against the rocks, quiet as the stone itself.
"A bad shoulder wound," he commented at length. "A little of your flask, O'Hara, and he'll be all right. Why, he's quite conscious! How do you feel? You're all right, my boy! A shattered shoulder isn't going to bother you any, is it? Not much!"
The girl moved closer.
"Is he alive and conscious? Will he live?" she asked. ”

“ It is not yourself—your dear self, at all, but the very devil that has taken possession of you. Sydney, are you sure there isn't something the matter with your brain? Do you realize how awful it seems? Doesn't it make you feel ashamed of yourself when you think of all the sweetness of our past life? ”

“ Of course, I knew you had no hand in that shooting at the corral, had you, Hope?" he asked in a somewhat anxious voice.
"A ridiculous idea for that old squaw to get in her head," replied the girl, leaning in a weary fashion back upon the rock.
Whatever suspicion Livingston had entertained vanished for the moment.
"I am glad," he said. "I don't know exactly why, but I am glad that it isn't so. I shouldn't like to think that you had done such a thing—for me."
"The moon takes a long time to set, don't you think?" she remarked. "It must be almost time for daylight." ”

“ Livingston, that we are comparative strangers."
"I am sorry, then, that you remember it," he replied. "It never seemed to me that we were strangers, Miss Hathaway. I do not think so now. There is something, I know not what, that draws people to each other in this country. It does not take weeks or months or years to form a friendship here. Two people meet, they speak, look into one another's eyes, then they are friends, comrades—or nothing, as it sometimes happens. They decide quickly here, not hampered by stiff conventionalities. It is instinct guides. Are you different from your countrymen?" ”