XVII
"ONCE A FOOL--ALWAYS A FOOL"
Though, under the surface, life upon Blue Lake ranch was sufficientlytense, the remaining days of June frivoled by as bright and bonny asthe little meadow-blues flirting with the field-flowers.
Since from the very first the ranch had been short-handed, the hoursfrom dawn to dusk were filled with activity. Carson, who, true toJudith's expectations, had brought back some new ideas from his fewdays at the experimental farm--ideas not to be admitted by Carson,however--bought a hundred young steers from a neighboring overstockedrange. In the lower corrals the new milking-machines were workingsmoothly, only a few of the older cows refusing to have anything to dowith them.
Tripp had succeeded in locating and getting back some of the men whohad worked long under Luke Sanford and whom Trevors had discharged. Itwas a joy to see the familiar faces of Sunny Harper, Johnny Hodge, BingKelley, Tod Bruce. The alfalfa acreage was extended, a little morethan doubled. Plans were made for an abundance of dry fodder to be fedwith the lush silage during the coming lean months. Bud Lee broke hisstring of horses, and with Tommy Burkitt and one other dependable manbegan perfecting their education, with an eye turned toward aprofitable sale in January.
Quinnion, perforce, was left undisturbed upon the sheep-ranch whitherEmmet Sawyer had followed him. Against Bud Lee's word that he had hada hand at the trouble at the old cabin were the combined oaths of twoof the sheepmen that he had been with them at the time.
Hampton's guests, who had planned for a month at the ranch, stayed on.But they would be leaving at the end of June. That is, Farris andRogers positively; the Langworthys, perhaps. The major was contenthere, and to stay always and always, would be an unbounded joy--ofcourse, with little runs to the city for the opera season and forshopping trips, and a great, jolly house-party now and then.
The only fly in Marcia's ointment was Hampton himself. She confessedas much to Judith. She liked him, oh, ever so much! But was thatlove? She yearned for a man who would thrill her through and through,and Hampton didn't always do that. Just after his heroic capture ofthe terrible Shorty, Marcia was thrilled to her heart's content. Butthere were other days when Hampton was just Pollock Hampton. If itcould only be arranged so that she could stay on and on, with no day ofreckoning to come, no matrimonial ventures on the horizon . . .
"That's simple, my dear," Judith smiled at her. "When you get throughbeing Pollock Hampton's guest, you can be mine for a while."
Hampton was now a great puzzle to Mrs. Langworthy, and even an objectof her secret displeasure. Not that that displeasure ever went to thelimit of changing Mrs. Langworthy's plans. But she longed for theright to talk to him as a mother should. For, seeking to emulate thosewhom he so unstintedly admired, Bud Lee and Carson and the rest of thehard-handed, quick-eyed men in the service of the ranch, Hampton was nolonger the careless, frankly inefficient youth who had escorted hisguests here. He went for days at a time unshaven, having other mattersto think of; he came to the table bringing with him the aroma of thestables. He wore a pair of trousers as cylindrical in the leg as astove-pipe; over them he wore a pair of cheap blue overalls, with theproper six-inch turn-up at the bottom to show the stovepipe trousersunderneath. The overalls got soiled, then dirty, then disgracefullyblotched with wagon grease and picturesque stains, and Hampton made noapologies for them.
Twice he left the ranch, once to be gone overnight, intending that itshould be a mystery where he went. But, since he rode the north trailwhich led to the Western Lumber camp, no one doubted that he had goneto see Bayne Trevors, in whom he still stoutly believed.
Between the 15th and the memorable 30th of June, Bud Lee saw little ofJudith Sanford. She was here, there, everywhere; busy, preoccupied.Marcia he talked with twice; once when they rode together whileHampton, racing recklessly down a rocky slope for a shot at a deer gota fall, a sore shoulder and made his debut in certain new swear-words;once when all of the guests, with the exception of Farris, who waspainting the portrait of the stallion, Nightshade, and the major, whohad "letters to write," came out to watch the horse-breaking. Thistime, introduced to Mrs. Langworthy, Lee got for his bow a remarkablycold stare. Others might forget, here in the open, the distinctionbetween people of the better class and their servants--not Mrs.Langworthy, if you please.
Having created his imaginary woman, Lee was ripe to fall in love withher when she came. He had thrilled to the touch of Judith's hand thatnight in the cabin; his thoughts, many and many a day, centred aboutthe superbly alive beauty that was Judith's. The fact disturbed himvaguely. The thought that he was very deeply interested in her in thegood old way between man and maid, never entered his stubborn head.She was as far removed from his ideal woman as the furthermost star inthe infinite firmament. Perhaps it was this very disquiet within him,caused by Judith, which now turned his thoughts to Marcia.
"That's the sort of woman," he told himself stoutly. "A man's woman;his other self, not just a pardner; the necessary other side of him,not just the same side in a different way."
Marcia had little, feminine ways of helplessness which turnedflatteringly to the strength of the other sex. Judith asked no man toaid her in mounting her horse; Marcia coquettishly slipped a daintilyslippered foot into a man's palm, rising because of his strength.
Now, when his thoughts went to Judith, Bud Lee turned them dexterouslyto Marcia, making his comparisons, shaping them to fit into his pettheory. When, days passing, he did not see Judith, he told himselfthat he was going to miss Marcia when she left. When one day he cameunexpectedly upon Judith and with lips and eyes she flashed her readysmile at him, he felt that odd stir in his blood. What a pity that agirl like her, who might have been anything, elected to do a man'swork! When, again unexpectedly, he came another day upon Marcia ridingwith Hampton, there was no quick stirring of the pulses, and hecontented himself with the thought: "Now, that is the sort of woman. Aman's woman! His other self . . ." and so on.
When Judith planned a little party to mark the departure of Marcia onthe 30th of June--it wasn't definitely decided that the Langworthyswere leaving then, but at least Farris and Rogers were--the reasonsactuating her were rather more complex than Judith herself fullyrealized or would have admitted. She liked Marcia; she wanted to do atleast this much for her. Living-room, dining-room, music-room,library--they would all be cleared of the larger pieces of furniture,the double-doors thrown open. The string band from Rocky Bend wouldcome. Judith would send out invitations to the nicer people there andto the ranches hereabout. She would have a barbecue, there would beraces and the usual holiday games, then the dance. Marcia would knownothing of it until the last day, when her eager enthusiasm would sendher a-flutter to her dressing-room.
Unanalyzed, it was simplicity itself, this giving a farewell party toMarcia. Under analysis, it was a different matter. The boys at theranch would be invited, and of course most of them would come. Bud Leewould come. Judith would see to that, even if he should hesitate.
Bud Lee had always been so self-possessed, had so coolly found herlacking, that, piqued a little, Judith longed for the opportunity toplace him in an atmosphere where a little of his calm self-possessionmight be snatched from him. If she could embarrass him, if she couldsee the red rise under his tanned skin, she would be giving Mr. Lee alesson good for his soul.
"I've got powerful little use for an affair like that," said Leecoolly, when she told him. "Thank you, Miss Sanford, but I don't thinkI'll come."
Judith shrugged her shoulders as though it did not in the least matterto her.
"I'm giving it for Marcia," she said. "Do you think it would be quitenice to her to stay away? I am afraid that she will be hurt."
Not Judith's words, but the look in her eyes changed Lee's intentions.
"If it's for Miss Langworthy," he said quietly, "I'll come."
The day came and Bud Lee began to regret that he had given his promiseto go to Marcia's dance. All day he was tac
iturn, aloof, avoiding notonly the visitors from Rocky Bend and the other ranches, but his ownfellows as well. He took no part in the races, was missing when theblazing trenches and smell of broiling meat told that the barbecue wasin progress. He worked with his horses as he had worked yesterday, ashe would work to-morrow. With the dusk he went, not to the men'squarters, but to the old cabin at the Upper End.
Again and again that day he had thought of that look in Judith's eyeswhen she had asked him to come for Marcia's sake. What the devil didshe mean by it? He didn't know exactly, but he did know that in itsown vague way it irritated him. Her eyes had laughed at him, they hadteased, they had told him that Judith herself wasn't wasting a singlethought upon Mr. Bud Lee, but that she had noticed his obvious interestin Miss Langworthy.
"Damn it," muttered Lee. "I won't go."
But he had said that he would go, and in little things as in big oneshe was scrupulous. He would go, just to dance with Marcia and showMiss Judith a thing or two. He felt unreasonably like taking MissJudith across his knee and spanking her. And he did have a curiosityto see just what Judith would look like in a real party-dress.
"Poor little wild Indian," he grumbled. "She's got the making of awonder in her, and she doesn't even know it. What's worse, doesn'tcare."
He sat with a dead cigarette between his fingers, staring at thewind-blown flame of his coal-oil lamp. Judith was doing this as shedid everything that she set her two hands on, thoroughly and with herwhole heart and soul. In that lay the key to her character. There wasno half-way with her. When she gave, it was open-handedly, with noreservation; where she loved or hated, it was unreservedly; if she gavea dance it would be a dance for the countryside to remember.
Yesterday Hampton had wondered, grinning, what he'd look like in adress-suit again. Hadn't had a thing on here of late but his war togs.Whereby he called attention to his turned-up overalls, soft shirt,battered hat, and flapping vest with the tobacco-tag hanging out.
Bud Lee turned down the wick of his lamp, which had been smoking, andsat staring at it another five minutes.
"By thunder," he said softly to himself. "I'll do it."
He shoved the bunk away from its place in the corner, opened atrap-door in the floor and, lamp in hand, went down into the cabin'scellar. Here was a long pine box, hooped with tin bands for shipping,its lid securely nailed on. He set down his lamp and with shirt-sleevewiped off some of the accumulation of dust and spider-web. A card withthe words, "David Burrill Lee, Rocky Bend," tacked to it made itsappearance. Lee shook his head and attacked the lid.
"It's like digging out a dead man," he muttered. "Well, we'll bury himagain to-morrow."
It was a box of odds and ends. Clothing, a few books, a pack ofphotographs, an ornate bridle, a pair of gold-chased spurs, a couple ofhats, gloves, no end of the varied articles which might have gonehastily into such a receptacle as this from the hurried packing in abachelor's apartments.
Bud Lee, with a dress-suit and the articles it demands, even to tie anddancing-shoes, went back into the room above.
"Like Hampton," he mused, looking at the things in his hands, "I wonderwhat it'll feel like to get back into these! I'm a fool." He laughedshortly and set to work to improvise a flat-iron to take the worstwrinkles out of the cloth. "Once a fool, always a fool. You can't getaway from it."
It was settled. He was going to Marcia's party. He insisted uponcalling it in his mind, "Marcia's party." And he was wondering, as heshaved, how Judith was going to look.