Ridgwell Cullum

“ He was right now, he knew. The hills about him were growing in height and ruggedness. The corrals were only a few miles on, and Sunset was racing down the track as if he were aware of the threatening danger to the girl whom he had so often carried on his back. But even if he were he was utterly unprepared for the furious thrashing of his present rider's heels which came as they were approaching one great shaggy hill to the south of them, in answer to a thin, high-pitched shrill for "Help!"
Gordon heard and understood. He had been right, after all, and a terrible panic and fury assailed him. ”

“ Gordon found himself looking into the girl's serious eyes.
"You—don't think me—a—fool?" he cried incredulously.
Hazel had no longer any inclination to laugh. A great emotion suddenly surged through her heart, and her pretty oval face was set flushing.
"When a woman owes a man what I owe you, if he were the greatest fool in the world to others, to that woman he becomes all that is great and fine, and—and—oh, just everything she can think good of him. But you—you are not a fool, or anything approaching it. I don't care what you have done in our affairs—for me, whatever it is, it is right. ”

“ Gordon nodded.
"And here's to the confusion of graft and grafters."
All three drank and set their glasses down.
"Graft?" said Mallinsbee thoughtfully. Then he shrugged his massive shoulders and laughed. "It's not a heap of use blaming grafters for their graft. They can't help it, any more than you can help scrappin' when a feller hits your wad on the crook. Graft—why, I just hate to think of the ways of graft. But you can't get through life without it; anyway, not life on this earth. I used to think graft a specialty of this country, but guess I was wrong. ”

“ The perfumed air filled lungs and nostrils with a beatific joy in living, and the darkened splendor of the crowding hills inspired a reverence in the human heart so profound, that it left scarce a place for the smallness of mundane hopes and yearnings. The splendor, the breadth of beauty sank into the human soul and left the spirit straining at its earthly bonds, and gazing with longing towards the infinite power which ordered its existence.
For ten miles of the journey from the old ranch-house Hazel rode under the sublime influence of feelings so inspired. ”

“ Hazel went on. "Still, it's pretty hard to lose your faith in human nature that way."
"Lose? Who said 'lose'?" cried the man, with a cordial laugh. "Not I. If I suddenly found it 'honest,' why, I'd hate to go on living. Human nature's got to be just as it is. Honesty lies in Nature. That's the honesty that folks talk about and dream about. It isn't practicable in human life. Dishonesty is the leavening that makes honesty, in the abstract, palatable. Say, think of it—if we were all honest like idealists talk of. What would we have worth living for? ”

“ You've hit it, sir, when fortunes are just going to start right into full growth with all the impetus of virgin soil. Snake's Fall, sir, is about to become the greatest proposition in the Western States, as a sure thing for soaking dollars into it. And here, sir, standing right at your elbow, is the courage, enterprise and intellect that's made it that way. Mr. Silas Mallinsbee is the father of this city, sir; he's more—he's the creator of it. ”

“ She knew she loved them, and her variations of mood were inspired by the cruelly farcical atmosphere of the position surrounding them both. She was angry with Gordon, bitterly angry at one moment, at the next she reveled in the exquisite impudence of his daring. At one moment her woman's tender pity went out to the big-hearted man who had been submitted to such indignities by his own son and herself, and all those concerned in the conspiracy, and, at the next, she found herself smiling at the humor of his attitude towards his persecutors. ”

“ Hazel Mallinsbee checked her inclination to laugh again. Her eyes were gazing ahead at the little frame house, and they grew wistfully serious.
"It isn't the land," she said simply. "The scrap, and cheat, and rob, and graft, are right. But it's the fight for fortune. Fortune?" she smiled. "Fortune means everything to a modern man. To some women, too, but not quite in the way it does to a man. You see, in olden days competition took a different form. I don't know if, in spite of what folks say about the savagery of old times, they weren't more honest and wholesome than they are now. ”

“ Mike Callahan was seated on a small chair his elbows resting upon his parted knees, and his chin supported upon the knuckles of his locked fingers. His eyes were intently fixed upon the desk, behind which Gordon was frowning over a sheet of paper, upon which the scratching of his pen made itself distinctly audible in the silence. Peter McSwain, the fourth conspirator, was still suffering from a fictitious heat, and was comfortably, but wakefully, snoring under its influence, with a sort of nasal ticking noise which harmoniously blended with the scratching of Gordon's pen. ”

“ D'you know, if you were to ask me just to pass the salt at supper it would sound to me like the taste of ice-cream?"
Hazel looked round at the earnest face with a swift sidelong glance. Then her laughter would no longer be denied.
"Would it?" she cried.
"Say, don't laugh at a feller. I'm in great trouble," Gordon went on quickly.
"Trouble?"
"Sure. Wouldn't you be if you'd bust up a man's scheme the same as I have, and if the only person in the world whose opinion you cared for can't help but think you all sorts of a fool?"
Hazel's smile had become very, very tender. ”

“ Mallinsbee, we don't need to worry with the summer," Gordon cried. "Summer generally fixes things right for itself. Meanwhile we'll just make the winter as easy as we can. You've given your little girl to me, and she's all you care for in the world. Well, that's a trust that demands all the best I can give. I won't fail you. I won't fail her. And you, Dad, I won't fail you."
"Good boy," said the millionaire, with a glow of pride. "I just know it, and—I know it for Mr. Mallinsbee and Hazel, too, if they don't know it for themselves. ”

“ Human nature's got to beat someone. Life is just one incessant rivalry. Well, in old times it took the form of bloodshed and war, when men counted with pride the tally of their victories. Now we point with pride to our civilization, and gaze back in pity upon our benighted forefathers. Instead of bloodshed, killing, fighting, massacring and all the old bad habits of those who came before us, we point our civilization by lying, cheating, robbing and grafting."
Gordon smiled.
"Put that way it sounds as though the old folks were first-class saints compared with us. ”

“ Gordon had propounded his beliefs to a man of great capacity whose convictions were opposed. Opportunity had served the younger man, who now intended to drive his point home ruthlessly, with a deep, kindly humor lying behind his every act. She could imagine, though she had never seen James Carbhoy, these two men, big and strong and kindly, sitting opposite each other, smoking luxuriously when it was all over, discussing the whole situation in the friendliest possible spirit. ”

“ His whole future—— But he would have spent six months at Hazel's side, working upon something that was obviously very dear to her brave and loyal heart. What more could a man desire?
He felt his great muscles thrill with a mighty sense of restrained effort. Was there any thought in the world so inspiring as that which had the support of the most wonderful creature he had ever met for its inspiration? He thought not. His pulses stirred at the bare idea of being Hazel Mallinsbee's companion all those weeks and months. ”

“ Then came the dénouement. It was at the finish of the meal that Hazel launched her bombshell. Slosson, in a long, coarse disquisition upon ranching, had been displaying his most perfect ignorance and conceit. He finished up with the definite statement that ranching was done, "busted." He knew. He had seen. There was nothing in it. Only in grain or mixed farming. He had had wide experience on the prairie, and you couldn't teach him a thing.
"You must let me show you how fallible is your opinion," said Hazel, with more politeness of language than intent. ”

“ We must equip ourselves, Harding. We must mortify the flesh. We must readjust our focus, and outrage all our more delicate susceptibilities. We must reduce ourselves to the requirements of the five-cent-cigar man, and turn a happy, smiling world into a dark and drear struggle for existence. See to it, good Harding, see to it."
The man withdrew, puzzled. Used as he was to Gordon's vagaries, the thought of his master dining off two hideous club sandwiches and a bottle of domestic lager made his staunch stomach positively turn. ”

“ Cleverness don't mean wisdom, and—vice versa. For instance, loafing idly down a main street six inches deep in a dust that would shame a blizzard when the wind blows, with a blazing sun scorching the marrow of the spine till it's ready to be spread out on toast, escorted by an army of disgusting flies moving in massed formation, and not knowing better than to drive your soul to perdition through the channel of extreme bad language, don't suggest cleverness. Yet there may surely be a deal of wisdom in it if it only keeps you from doing something a heap more foolish. ”

“ Each is fighting for his own. How far is a son justified in emptying an automatic pistol into his father's food depot, when that mistaken parent guesses he's yearning to storm his son's stronghold of commercial enterprise? How far is that father justified in doping his son's liquor, so he won't lie awake at nights planning to roll him for his wad next morning? Take a daughter and her momma. Most mothers act as though they had to live all their lives with their daughters' husbands. And most daughters act as though they preferred their mommas should. ”

“ Then when a mush-headed dreamer starts right out to walk the straight line of life it's a million to one chance he'll break his fool neck, or do some other positively ridiculous stunt that's liable to terminate what ought to have been a promising career. I submit, from the foregoing arguments, the straight line of ethical virtue is just a vision, a dream, an hallucination, a nightmare. It's one of those things the whole world loves to sit around on Sundays and yarn about, and just as many folks would hate to practice, anyway. ”

“ The faint ticking of the bracket clock on the wall suddenly became like the blows of a hammer.
"I—I don't think I——"
Young Gordon broke off. His merry eyes had suddenly become troubled. The crisis was becoming acute.
For some moments the millionaire smoked on luxuriously. Then he removed his cigar and cleared his throat.
"I'm not going to shout. That's not my way," he said in his easy, deliberate fashion. "Guess folks have got to be young, and the younger they're young—why, the better. I was young, and—got over it. You're going to get over it. I figure to help you that way. ”

“ Then a twinkling smile grew, and the clouds dispersed.
"Isn't that just a man? Where's your enthusiasm? Where's your joy of life? Where's your romance, and—and spirit of hope?"
A great pretense of reproach lay in her rapid questions.
"Oh, they're all somewhere lying around, I guess," returned Gordon simply. "Those things are all right, sure. But—but it's a mighty tough proposition worrying that way on—on an empty stomach. It seems to me that's just one of life's mistakes. There ought to be a law in Congress that a feller isn't allowed to—to think till he's had his morning coffee. ”

“ Gordon grinned and shook his head, while Hazel waited—not without some apprehension. His father's smile gave way to a quaint expression of awe at such negligence.
"I'd say she'd be pleased, of course," the millionaire said, without conviction. "It's a mercy not always bestowed on a boy to get a wife like—Hazel. Your mother's a mighty good woman, Gordon, and I'll allow she's got her ways about things. But she's good, and I guess she'll just take to Hazel right away." ”

“ Had Gordon only realized it this was the very sign he should have looked for in such a man. James Carbhoy loved his son as few men regard their offspring, but he wanted his son to be something more than a mere object of his affection. He wanted him to be an object upon which he could bestow all the enormous pride of a self-made man. He wanted to feel that exquisite thrill of triumph resulting to his vanity, that Gordon was his son—the son of his father. ”

“ I thought I could teach my father all there was to know about bluff. You see, I'd forgotten he'd lived thirty-three more years than I had. Bluff? Why, I'd never heard of it as he knew it. The result is I've got to make one hundred thousand dollars in six months or forfeit my legitimate future." Then he added with the gayest, most buoyant laugh, "Say, it's a terrible thing to think of. It's dead serious. It's as serious as an inter-university ball game."
The lurking smile had returned to Mallinsbee's eyes, and Hazel frankly joined in Gordon's laugh. ”

“ Gordon's eyes shot a whimsical smile across at Hazel's father.
"I'd hate to have any other, Mr. Mallinsbee," he said. "Maybe I know how you're feeling about it. But I tell you right here, if my father knew I had this opportunity and didn't take it, he'd turn his face to the wall and never own me as his son again. You're reckoning that for a son to do his father down sort of puts that son on a level with David Slosson or any other low down tough. Maybe it does. But I just think my father the bulliest feller on earth, and I love him mighty hard. ”

“ Within half an hour one of the ranch hands brought the two horses to the veranda. Hazel's mare, keen-eyed, alert and full of life, was a picture for the eye of a horseman. The other horse, shy and wild-eyed, was a picture also, but a picture of quite a different type.
Hazel glanced keenly round the saddle of the youngster. Then she approached Slosson, who was stroking his black mustache pensively on the veranda, and looked up at him with her sweetest smile.
"Shall I get on him first?" she inquired. "Maybe he'll cat jump some. He's pretty lifey. I'd hate him to pitch you." ”

“ Hazel sat herself upon the edge of his desk, and flicked the rawhide quirt against the leg of her top boot. Her prairie hat was thrust back from her forehead, and her pretty tanned face was turned in a smiling inquiry upon Gordon.
"What is it?" she asked, with that new alertness the man had come to regard as a part of her nature, second only to her delightful camaraderie.
He smiled back into her merry eyes.
"I'm wondering why two men bent on a joint purpose can't see the same thing in the same light." ”

“ Hazel blushed. Nor did she know why. Gordon, watching her, sat entranced.
"Sure. Most everybody reckons I'm just a—a bit of an athlete—that's all. My sister Gracie never gets tired of telling me what an all-sorts-of-fool I am."
"How old is your—Gracie?"
"Thirteen."
"That makes a diff'rence."
"Oh, she doesn't get it all her own way," laughed Gordon. "I hide her chocolates. That makes her mad. She's a passion for candy. But the old dad is a bully feller. He's all sorts of a sportsman, and he guesses that the best day in his life will be the one in which he finds I'm not a fool." ”

“ She wondered how much she would find him like Gordon. No, she thought softly, he could never be really like Gordon. That was impossible. A multi-millionaire could never have his son's frank enthusiasm for life in all its turns and twistings of moral impulse. Gordon faced life with a defiant "don't care." ”

“ Hazel gazed admiringly at the portrait of the man who claimed Gordon as his son. For the moment she forgot the purpose in hand.
"Isn't he just splendid?" she exclaimed. "You're—you're the image of him. Why, say, it seems the unkindest thing ever to—to play him up."
Gordon laughed.
"Don't worry that way. We're going to give him the time of his life." Then he glanced swiftly about him, and noted the emptiness of the depot. "I guess Peter's keeping the folks busy. He's a bright feller. I surely guess he's working overtime. Now you get things fixed right, Hazel. The train's coming along." ”

“ If Gordon beheld it, it is doubtful if he read it aright. For himself, a great joy that he had been of service in her protection pervaded him. Just now, for him, all life centered round Hazel Mallinsbee and her well-being.
"You brought nothing on," he said, his eyes smiling tenderly round at her. "He's a disease that would overtake any girl." Then he began to laugh, with the intention of dispelling all her regrets. "Say, he's just one of life's experiences, and experience is generally unpleasant. ”

“ I couldn't get angry with you," he proceeded, with a suppressed excitement that added to his father's smile; "but I tell you right here I'll not stand for it from you or anybody. My only crime is spending your money, which you have always encouraged me to do. From my university days to now my whole leisure has been given up to athletics. A man can't live immorally and win the contests I have won. I don't need to name them. Boxing, sculling, running, baseball, swimming. You know that. Any sane man knows that. ”

“ But Mallinsbee smiled into the fiery eyes of the young giant and shook his head, while Hazel looked on at the brewing storm with inscrutable eyes of amusement.
"There's no free hand for anybody in this thing, Gordon, boy," said Mallinsbee slowly. "And I don't guess there's any crematoriums or undertakers' corporation around Snake's Fall. Anyway, Hip-Lee wouldn't do a thing if you asked him to bury a white man."
"White man?" snorted Gordon furiously.
"Remember you're—fighting for my daddy as well as yourself, Mr. Van Henslaer," said Hazel earnestly. ”

“ Hazel's eyes were slyly watching him. She shook her head.
"That's not it," she smiled back. "You don't know my daddy. He might say that, but there's a whole lot of other thoughts stumbling around in his funny old head. If he wants you he thinks you can do more than hit hard."
The humor of it all got hold of Gordon.
"Good," he cried, with one of his whole-hearted laughs. "Now I'll let you into a secret. This is a great secret. One of those secrets a feller generally hangs on tight to because he's half ashamed of it. I can do more than hit hard!" ”

“ Then the road gangs at work. The carpenters at the sidewalks. The surveyors. The teams and wagons. Above all, that depot being built with all expedition by—your father." She laughed happily and clapped her hands. "It's all growing every day. A mushroom town. And you—you have made that money your great father dared you to make. Dared you—you, and you have made it out of him! Oh, dear! the humor of it is enough to make a cat laugh. Here you, by sheer audacity and roguery, have held up a railroad and coolly played the highwayman on your own father!"
Gordon shook his head. ”