Luke Allan

“ Isabel had refused to leave to her any of the care of their rooms, but Mary Aikens, as hostess, never omitted that morning visit to see that nothing was lacking for their comfort—perhaps, too, to dream a little over the wonderful thing that had happened that summer to the H-Lazy Z, the lonely ranch where never before in her time had another woman set foot. In Isabel's kindly eyes and sympathetic silences she read what one woman can tell another without the perils of speech. ”

“ The sound galvanised more startling life into the group of cowboys. Those at the fire dropped their branding irons and rushed for their horses, and the two at the corrals were in their saddles as the howl ceased.
Stamford tumbled down the slope and raced for Hobbles. As he clambered into the saddle he realised with a gasp how hopeless flight was. Even with such a short start he had confidence that Hobbles could hold her own in the dark—but he couldn't at such a speed. Fifty yards convinced him of it—fifty yards of giving Hobbles her head and concentrating on the horn in front. ”

“ When they dashed through the narrow exit to Toronto Street the fun was on.
Dakota struck straight for the Provincial opposite—a brilliant idea that staggered them all.
Now, the front door of the Provincial was attainable only by climbing fourteen steep steps and crossing a deep verandah. The height enabled loungers to expectorate in comfort over the railing to the sidewalk without inconveniencing themselves, and to some extent discouraged the visits of the too heavily loaded, who naturally gravitated to the more accessible bar door, situated lower down the street and on the street level. ”

“ He always knew beforehand when he would not sleep. Even as a youngster the aftermath of indigestible luxuries, nightmare, was heralded before he closed his eyes by a feeling of oppression. To-night he longed for Imp's watchful ears at the foot of his bed. Outside, the world was dominated by the hideous yelping of the coyotes. To Stamford they were a symbol of Red Deer mysteries: though hundreds of them by day lurked within the horizon, they were seldom visible; at night, when only their eyes could see, they filled the darkness with raucous clamour. ”

“ A herd of cattle was browsing in the succulent grass. To the east the cliff sloped away behind the obtruding crags. There undoubtedly was the entrance. And with his field-glasses Stamford picked out on the lower ledge a rude shack that, to the bare eye, merged in the general greyness of the background.
Nothing else of life could he find, though the valley was only a few hundred yards from him. Then where were the dogs? And where were dogs must be humans. ”

“ A man burst from the prairies above, far ahead of him, leaped to the cover of the upper rocks, and in one swift glance swept the cliff below. With scarcely an instant's pause he dropped into a crevice, and Stamford could see him working a perilous but rapid descent with back and hands and knees. Reaching a ledge, he began to leap downward from rock to rock like a goat, swinging himself by his arms, unhesitating, sure-footed. ”

“ Out in the stable Pink Eye was as weary as his master.
Mary Aikens went into the streets, and in the post office heard the latest gossip—a new case of cattle-thieving off toward Irvine. For hours she walked up and down the streets with a terrible ache at her heart.
That night her husband sent her to a show in the "opera house," while he broke loose up in the Toronto Street den and lined the pockets of the usual sharpers on the look-out for reckless fools. Through a wretched performance she sat without grasping even its general idea, miserable, lonely, trembling with indecision. ”

“ Two hundred yards from the house—Dakota Fraley had insisted on the distance—the cook-house, bunk-house, stables and corrals began, and spread out over the eastern end of the valley in conventional disarray, the bottom corral touching the rough beach that there lined the river. Dakota had no stomach for skirts about the place, especially the kind he imagined his wild master would bring. In that he failed to understand Cockney.
Before the ranch-house door Dakota met his partner retreating from Mary's tears. Behind the foreman two or three cowboys lounged in the open doorway. ”

“ He lifted himself to the top of a rock and stood looking across the valley at the cattle, ignoring the canine protest. Then, as if startled, he leaped out of sight and did not reappear. The barks rumbled away to grunts and growls, and presently the dogs returned to the lower level.
Stamford was still watching with fascination their slinking muscular movements, when one of them raised his head to the top of the cliff and growled, and in a moment both were filling the valley with their disturbing din. ”

“ A few, including the Mounted Police, knew something of Dakota's past, but in a country where a man's present is all that matters, the story that might have been told died from lack of interest. In a general way it was common knowledge that Dakota had drifted over from the States, a born cow-puncher, broncho-buster, and prairie-man; and at his heels had come a motley assortment of kindred spirits whom Dakota had rounded up as his outfit at the H-Lazy Z. No one could say that the results in cold cash had not justified him. ”

“ Two women scurried in a panic for a locked door, screamed, and turned blanched faces to the terror. Dakota raised his arm, shouted, and on the instant every mouth closed, every finger was held. With doffed Stetsons, guns pointing to the sky, a band of dare-devil cow-punchers trotted meekly past the terrified women, bowing as they went, and twenty yards beyond broke loose with redoubled vigour.
At the corner of Main Street every eye flicked across the tracks to the barracks, but things seemed lifeless there. ”

“ He winked at Stamford and his wife.
West exploded in a typical volley of Western oaths. Cockney waved a finger at him.
"Oh, fie, West! And before ladies! Mary, that's not part of his duties. It's only an accomplishment that has gained him more notoriety than his official capacity. He wants to give the impression of guarding the Great West from cattle-thieving and rustling." He pointed to West's flaming face. "That's not anger. West never gets mad. It's shame at losing control before ladies." ”

“ Stamford's blood ran tingling to his scalp. Every muscle was tense against the inclination to shut the awful thing from his ears. And as the howl pulsed through the listening night, a second joined it. Taking a deep breath, Stamford bounded from the bed.
He knew that cry. It was the night-baying of huge dogs gone wild on the trail, of such dogs as he had never seen. Shivering before the window, he listened. They were running swiftly across the prairie above the house, drawing nearer and nearer, their clamour shutting everything else from Stamford's mind. ”

“ Mary Aikens had seen nothing of the incident—her eyes were too wet. With a dead weight at her heart she sank her head in her arms on the table and let the tears flow.
Cockney came on her that way and softly retreated, drawing the door gently behind him. After a few noisy crunches among the gravel and a preliminary kick to the outside step, he took a long breath and entered. She was darning then, her head held low. He passed quickly through to the bedroom door, but there he stopped, and, without turning, stood with his hand on the knob. Then he disappeared. ”

“ Cockney Aikens hated the Mounted Police. In all his life nothing had so roused the depths of hatred usually dormant in his big body. If one came within sight he swore beneath his breath—or aloud, according to the company. He thought and spoke the worst of them, and his unqualified dislike was unwilling to accord them any credit, would grant no conceivable purpose they fulfilled. On the trail he passed them without so much as nodding, and the very few patrols that wandered at long intervals to the vicinity of the H-Lazy Z avoided the sullen hospitality of its owner. ”

“ Almost instantly the gates at the bottom of the gangways opened and two lines of steers from the crowded, white-fenced pens rushed up the slope to the open doors of the cars.
The lounging cowboys sprang to life. Throwing themselves in excited abandon on their bronchos behind the station, they tore across the tracks and disappeared in the folds of the prairie, shouting, cracking their quirts, laughing taunts at each other, to reappear a few minutes later, little less noisy, behind a small herd of galloping cattle headed for the emptying outer stockades. ”

“ One little step forward she took.
"Amos," she said, and in the tone was the indulgence of a mother, though the man was years her senior, "Amos, don't you think you two had better meet? This is my brother Professor Amos Bulkeley, of the Smithsonian Institute," she said, turning to Stamford.
Her brother swept his big frame about with the cheeriest of smiles and extended his hand.
"You're the local editor, I suppose," he said, in a gentle voice. "We've come to you for help—naturally. Appealing to a newspaper for help is a habit we all have, from politicians up to ordinary burglars." ”

“ Down the river trail, and thence along the edge of the rough beach rock below the corrals, the skeleton buggy bounced eastward to the only ford west of the Double Bar-O. The one consolation to the injured pride of the smaller man was that his companion insisted on letting him drive. Stamford had always considered his accomplishments with the reins as born of necessity rather than of experience, but the Professor frankly refused to expose himself to his own driving. ”

“ The dull thud of hoofs and the rattle of wheels drew them both to the door. A buckboard was coming drunkenly down the eastern trail, its horses, under the direction of an inexpert—or drunken—driver, uncertain of what was expected of them. The smallest deviation from the beaten track meant that one horse was mounting the ridge and the other the prairie at the side, the wheels following them in jerks from the deep ruts in the black loam worn by the unanimous track of every previous vehicle and horse. ”

“ Stamford failed to see how any one on the fence, except at the gangways, could see more of the cattle than their backs.
Cockney Aikens watched Dakota thoughtfully as the latter pulled himself to the other gangway. Then he climbed to his old perch on the roof and lay on his elbow without lighting his cigarette. And Mary Aikens watched her husband.
"Poor West!" sympathised Stamford. "He leads a dog's life. I can feel for small men." ”

“ It was Bean Slade, emerging hastily from the interior of the shack, who returned it, as Pink Eye and his mate tore along the indistinct eastern trail over the edge of the prairie above.
"Hoorah!" shouted Dakota, when the moving speck had vanished over the ridge.
"Hoorah!" responded a half-dozen voices; and the Dude and Alkali seized each other for a musicless dance.
"Dassent leave her t'yore tender mercies, Dakota, ole sport," chaffed Alkali. "Yo're a reg'lar lady-killer, that's what yo are." ”

“ When a girl's friends write month after month of home magnificence that radiates largely round the conventional "carriage and pair" that is the dream of schoolgirls, a whole ranch of horses and cattle looks like the earmarks of a fairy prince, especially when they belong to such a stunning big chap as Jim Aikens. ”

“ Without moving his feet, Cockney's great fist shot out and caught the side of Dakota's head. As his back struck the prairie the cowboy reached for his gun, but Cockney was on him with a bound, wrenching one gun from his hand and another from a loose pocket in his chaps. With one hand he lifted Dakota to his feet and released him.
"I don't like the way you speak of my wife," he thundered.
Dakota, helpless and a little cowed without his guns, glared his fury.
"It's as good as you treat her," he snarled. ”

“ When the cowboys ran amok in town, he was a tenderfoot red-coat who envied the town policeman his monopoly.
There is little inherently bad about the cowboy. Normally he is fairer, more gallant and honest than the ruck of Westerners who have gone West with their eyes blinded by dollars. Often a shocking cold-bloodedness marks his revenge or anger, but it is usually frank and fair, according to his lights, a development of the hard life he lives.
Out there on the prairie no house is locked. ”

“ Stamford darted to Bean's lifeless body. Leaning the rifle on the rock he took as careful aim as he knew how at the running cattle, but missed. He repeated the failure. Then, reckless of exposure, he carried the rifle to Cockney. Lifting the heavy man to his side, he thrust the rifle before him and held it against the rock. Cockney's face twisted in pain, but he placed his eye to the stock, held his breath, and pulled the trigger.
A steer leaped, stumbled, and those behind trod over it. A second time a steer fell. Cockney sank back. ”