Read The Cattle-Baron's Daughter Page 7


  VII

  LARRY PROVES INTRACTABLE

  It was some little time after her arrival at Cedar Range when MissTorrance, who took Flora Schuyler with her, rode out across the prairie.There were a good many things she desired to investigate personally, and,though a somewhat independent young woman, she was glad that theopportunity of informing Torrance of her intention was not afforded her,since he had ridden off somewhere earlier in the day. It also happenedthat although the days were growing colder she arrayed herselffastidiously in a long, light skirt, which she had not worn since she leftCedar, and which with the white hat that matched it became her better thanthe conventional riding attire. Miss Schuyler naturally noticed this.

  "Is it a garden party we are going to?" she asked.

  Hetty laughed. "We may meet some of our neighbours, and after staying withyou all that while in New York I don't want to go back on you. I had thething specially made in Chicago for riding in."

  Miss Schuyler was not quite satisfied, but she made no further comment,and there was much to occupy her attention. The bleached plain was brightwith sunshine and rolled back into the distance under an arch of cloudlessblue, while the crisp, clear air stirred her blood like an elixir. Theyswept up a rise and down it, the colour mantling in their faces, over thelong hollow, and up a slope again, until, as the white grass rolled behindher, Flora Schuyler yielded to the exhilaration of swift motion, and,flinging off the constraint of the city, rejoiced in the springy rush ofthe mettlesome beast beneath her. Streaming white levels, the blue of thesliding sky, the kiss of the wind on her hot cheek, and the roar of hoofs,all reacted upon her until she laughed aloud when she hurled her half-wildbroncho down a slope.

  "This is surely the finest country in the world," she said.

  The words were blown behind her, but Hetty caught some of them, and, whenat last she drew bridle where a rise ran steep and seamed withbadger-holes against the sky, nodded with a little air of pride.

  "Oh, yes, and it's ours. All of it," she said. "Worth fighting for, isn'tit?"

  Flora Schuyler laughed a little, but she shook her head. "It's a pity onecouldn't leave that out. You would stay here with your men folk if therewas trouble?"

  Hetty looked at her with a little flash in her eyes. "Why, of course! It'sour country. We made it, and I'd go around in rags and groom the boys'horses if it would help them to whip out the men who want to take it fromus."

  Flora Schuyler smiled a trifle drily. "The trouble is that when we fallout, one is apt to find as good Americans as we are, and sometimes the menwe like the most, standing in with the opposition. It has happened quiteoften since the war."

  Hetty shook her bridle impatiently. "Then, of course, one would not likethem any longer," she said.

  Nothing more was said until they crossed the ridge above them, when Hettypulled her horse up. Across the wide levels before her advanced a line ofdusty teams, the sunlight twinkling on the great breaker ploughs theyhauled, while the black loam rolled in softly gleaming waves behind them.They came on with slow precision, and in the forefront rolled a greatmachine that seamed and rent the prairie into triple furrows.

  "What are they doing there? Do they belong to you?" asked Miss Schuyler.

  The flush the wind had brought there turned to a deeper crimson in Hetty'susually colourless face. "To us!" she said, and her voice had a thrill ofscorn. "They're homesteaders. Ride down. I want to see who's leadingthem."

  She led the way with one little gloved hand clenched on the dainty switchshe held; but before she reached the foremost team the man who pulled itup sprang down from the driving-seat of the big machine. A tall wirefence, with a notice attached to it, barred his way. The other ploughsstopped behind him, somebody brought an axe, and Hetty set her lips whenthe glistening blade whirled high and fell. Thrice it flashed in thesunlight, swung by sinewy arms, and then, as the fence went down, a low,half-articulate cry rose from the waiting men. It was not exultant, butthere was in it the suggestion of a steadfast purpose.

  Hetty sat still and looked at them, a little sparkle in her dark eyes, anda crimson spot in either cheek, while the laces that hung from her neckacross the bodice of the white dress rose and fell. It occurred to FloraSchuyler that she had never seen her companion look half so well, and shewaited with strained expectancy for what should follow, realizing, withthe dramatic instinct most women have, who the man with the axe must be.He turned slowly, straightening his back and stood for a moment erect andstatuesque, with the blue shirt open at his bronzed neck and the great axegleaming in his hand; and Hetty gasped. Miss Schuyler's surmise wasverified, for it was Larry Grant.

  "Larry," said her companion, and her voice had a curious ring, "what areyou doing here?"

  The man, who appeared to ignore the question, swung off his wide hat."Aren't you and Miss Schuyler rather far from home?" he asked.

  Flora Schuyler understood him when, glancing round, she noticed the figureof a mounted man forced up against the skyline here and there. Hetty,however, had evidently not seen them.

  "I want an answer, please," she said.

  "Well," said Larry gravely, "I was cutting down that fence."

  "Why were you cutting it down?" persisted Miss Torrance.

  "It was in the way."

  "Of what?"

  Grant turned and pointed to the men, sturdy toilers starved out of bleakDakota and axe-men farmers from the forests of Michigan. "Of these, andthe rest who are coming by and by," he said. "Still, I don't want to gointo that; and you seem angry. You haven't offered to shake hands with me,Hetty."

  Miss Torrance sat very still, one hand on the switch, and another on thebridle, looking at him with a little scornful smile on her lips. Then sheglanced at the prairie beyond the severed fence.

  "That land belongs to my friends," she said.

  Grant's face grew a trifle wistful, but his voice was grave. "They havehad the use of it, but it belongs to the United States, and other peoplehave the right to farm there now. Still, that needn't make any troublebetween you and me."

  "No?" said the girl, with a curious hardness in her inflection; but herface softened suddenly. "Larry, while you only talked we didn't mind; butno one fancied you would have done this. Yes, I'm angry with you. I havebeen home 'most a month, and you never rode over to see me; while now youwant to talk politics."

  Grant smiled a trifle wearily. "I would sooner talk about anything else;and if you ask him, your father will tell you why I have not been to therange. I don't want to make you angry, Hetty."

  "Then you will give up this foolishness and make friends with us again,"said the girl, very graciously. "It can't come to anything, Larry, and youare one of us. You couldn't want to take away our land and give it to thisrabble?"

  Hetty was wholly bewitching, as even Flora Schuyler, who fancied sheunderstood the grimness in the man's face, felt just then. He, however,looked away across the prairie, and the movement had its significance toone of the company, who, having less at stake, was the more observant.When he turned again, however, he seemed to stand very straight.

  "I'm afraid I can't," he said.

  "No?" said Hetty, still graciously. "Not even when I ask you?"

  Grant shook his head. "They have my word, and you wouldn't like me to goback upon what I feel is right," he said.

  Hetty laughed. "If you will think a little, you can't help seeing that youare very wrong."

  Again the little weary smile crept into Grant's face. "One naturallythinks a good deal before starting in with this kind of thing, and I haveto go through. I can't stop now, even to please you. But can't we still befriends?"

  For a moment there was astonishment in the girl's face, then it flushed,and as her lips hardened and every line in her slight figure seemed togrow rigid, she reminded Miss Schuyler of the autocrat of Cedar Range.

  "You ask me that?" she said. "You, an American, turning Dutchmen and thesebush-choppers loose upon the people you belong to. Can't you see what theanswer must be?"

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p; Grant did apparently, for he mutely bent his head; but there was a shoutjust then, and when one of the vedettes on the skyline suddenly movedforward he seized Miss Torrance's bridle and wheeled her horse.

  "Ride back to the Range," he said sharply, "as straight as you can. Tellyour father that you met me. Let your horse go, Miss Schuyler."

  As he spoke he brought his hand down upon the beast's flank and it wentforward with a bound. The one Flora Schuyler rode flung up its head, andin another moment they were sweeping at a gallop across the prairie. Amile had been left behind before Hetty could pull her half-broken horseup; but the struggle that taxed every sinew had been beneficial, and shelaughed a trifle breathlessly.

  "I'm afraid I lost my temper; and I'm angry yet," she said. "It's thefirst time Larry wouldn't do what I asked him, and it was mean of him tosend us off like that, just when one wanted to put on all one's dignity."

  Miss Schuyler appeared thoughtful. "I fancy he did it because it wasnecessary. Didn't it strike you that you were hurting him? That is a goodman and an honest one, though, of course, he may be mistaken."

  "He must be," said Hetty. "Now I used to think ever so much of Larry, andthat is why I got angry with him. It isn't nice to feel one has beenfooled. How can he be good when he wants to take our land from us?"

  Flora Schuyler laughed. "You are quite delightful, Hetty, now and then.You have read a little, and been taught history. Can't you remember any?"

  "Oh yes," said Hetty, with a little thoughtful nod. "Still, the men whomade the trouble in those old days were usually buried before anyone wasquite sure whether they were right or not. Try to put yourself in myplace. What would you do?"

  There was a somewhat curious look in Miss Schuyler's blue eyes. "I thinkif I had known a man like that one as long as you have done, I shouldbelieve in him--whatever he did."

  "Well," said Hetty gravely, "if you had, just as long as you couldremember, seen your father and his friends taking no pleasure, but workingevery day, and putting most of every dollar they made back into the ranch,you would find it quite difficult to believe that the man who meant totake it from them now they were getting old and wanted to rest and enjoywhat they had worked for was doing good."

  Flora Schuyler nodded. "Yes," she said, "I would. It's quite an oldtrouble. There are two ways of looking at everything, and other folks havehad to worry over them right back to the beginning."

  Then she suddenly tightened her grasp on the bridle, for the ringing of arifle rose, sharp and portentous, from beyond the rise. The colour fadedin her cheek, and Hetty leaned forward a trifle in her saddle, with lipsslightly parted, as though in strained expectancy. No sound now reachedthem from beyond the low, white ridge that hemmed in their vision but afaint drumming of hoofs. Then Flora Schuyler answered the question in hercompanion's eyes.

  "I think it was only a warning," she said.

  She wheeled her horse and they rode on slowly, hearing nothing further,until the Range rose from behind the big birch bluff. Torrance hadreturned when they reached it, and Hetty found him in his office room.

  "I met Larry on the prairie, and of course I talked to him," she said. "Iasked him why he had not been to the Range, and he seemed to think itwould be better if he did not come."

  Torrance smiled drily. "Then I guess he showed quite commendable taste aswell as good sense. You are still decided not to go back to New York,Hetty?"

  "Yes," said the girl, with a little resolute nod. "You see, I can't helpbeing young and just a little good-looking, but I'm Miss Torrance of Cedarall the time."

  Torrance's face was usually grim, but it grew a trifle softer then."Hetty," he said, "they taught you a good many things I never heard of atthat Boston school, but I'm not sure you know that all trade and industryis built upon just this fact: what a man has made and worked hard for ishis own. Would anyone put up houses or raise cattle if he thought hisneighbours could take them from him? Now there's going to be trouble overthat question here, and, though it isn't likely, your father may be beatendown. He may have to do things that wouldn't seem quite nice to a daintyyoung woman, and folks may denounce him; but it's quite plain that if youstay here you will have to stand in with somebody."

  The girl, who was touched by the unusual tenderness in his eyes, sat downupon the table, and slipped an arm about his neck.

  "Who would I stand in with but you?" she said. "We'll whip the rustlersout of the country, and, whether it sounds nice at the time or not, youcouldn't do anything but the square thing."

  Torrance kissed her gravely, but he sighed and his face grew stern againwhen she slipped out of the room.

  "There will not be many who will come through this trouble with handsquite clean," he said.

  It was during the afternoon, and Torrance had driven off again, when, asthe two girls were sitting in the little room which was set apart forthem, a horseman rode up to the Range, and Flora Schuyler, who was nearestthe window, drew back the curtain.

  "That man should sit on horseback always," she said; "he's quite apicture."

  Hetty nodded. "Yes," she said. "Still, you told me you didn't like him.It's Clavering. Now, I wonder what he put those things on for--he doesn'twear them very often--and whether he knew my father wasn't here."

  Clavering would probably have attracted the attention of most young womenjust then, for he had dressed himself in the fashion the prairiestockriders were addicted to, as he did occasionally, perhaps because heknew it suited him. He had artistic perceptions, and could adapt himselfharmoniously to his surroundings, and he knew Hetty's appreciation of thepicturesque. His sallow face showed clean cut almost to femininerefinement under the wide hat, and the blue shirt which clung about himdisplayed his slender symmetry. It was, however, not made of flannel, butapparently of silk, and the embroidered deerskin jacket which showed thesquareness of his shoulders, was not only daintily wrought, but hadevidently cost a good many dollars. His loose trousers and silver spurswere made in Mexican fashion: but the boldness of the dark eyes, and thepride that revealed itself in the very pose of the man, redeemed him fromany taint of vanity.

  He sat still until a hired man came up, then swung himself from thesaddle, and in another few moments had entered the room with his wide hatin his hand.

  "You find us alone," said Hetty. "Are you astonished?"

  "I am content," said Clavering. "Why do you ask me?"

  "Well," said Hetty naively, "I fancied you must have seen my father on theprairie, and could have stopped him if you had wanted to."

  There was a little flash in Clavering's dark eyes that was very eloquent."The fact is, I did. Still, I was afraid he would want to take me alongwith him."

  Hetty laughed. "I am growing up," she said. "Three years ago you wouldn'thave wasted those speeches on me. Well, you can sit down and talk toFlora."

  Clavering did as he was bidden. "It's a time-honoured question," he said."How do you like this country?"

  "There's something in its bigness that gets hold of one," said MissSchuyler. "One feels free out here on these wide levels in the wind andsun."

  Clavering nodded, and Flora Schuyler fancied from his alertness that hehad been waiting for an opportunity. "It would be wise to enjoy it whileyou can," he said. "In another year or two the freedom may be gone, andthe prairie shut off in little squares by wire fences. Then one will bepermitted to ride along a trail between rows of squalid homesteads flankedby piles of old boots and provision-cans. We will have exchanged thestockrider for the slouching farmer with a swarm of unkempt children and aslatternly, scolding wife then."

  "You believe that will come about?" asked Miss Schuyler, giving him thelead she felt he was waiting for.

  Clavering looked thoughtful. "It would never come if we stood loyallytogether, but--and it is painful to admit it--one or two of our peopleseem quite willing to destroy their friends to gain cheap popularity bytruckling to the rabble. Of course, we could spare those men quite well,but they know our weak points, and can do a good deal of harm by bet
rayingthem."

  "Now," said Hetty, with a sparkle in her eyes, "you know quite well thatif some of them are mistaken they will do nothing mean. Can't they havetheir notions and be straight men?"

  "It is quite difficult to believe it," said Clavering. "I will tell youwhat one or two of them did. There was trouble down at Gordon's placefifty miles west, and his cow-boys whipped off a band of Dutchmen whowanted to pull his fences down. Well, they came back a night or two laterwith a mob of Americans, and laid hands on the homestead. We are proud ofthe respect we pay women in this country, Miss Schuyler, but that nightMrs. Gordon's and her daughters' rooms were broken into, and the girlsturned out on the prairie. It was raining, and I believe they were noteven allowed to provide themselves with suitable clothing. Of course,nothing of that kind could happen here, or I would not have told you."

  Hetty's voice was curiously quiet as she asked, "Was nothing done toprovoke them?"

  "Yes," said Clavering, with a dry smile, "Gordon shot one of them; but isit astonishing? What would you expect of an American if a horde of rabblewho held nothing sacred poured into his house at night? Oh, yes, he shotone of them, and would have given them the magazine, only that somebodyfelled him with an axe. The Dutchman was only grazed, but Gordon is lyingsenseless still."

  There was an impressive silence, and the man sat still with the veins onhis forehead a trifle swollen and a glow in his eyes. His story was alsoaccurate, so far as it went; but he had, with a purpose, not told thewhole of it.

  "You are sure there were Americans among them?" asked Hetty, veryquietly.

  "They were led by Americans. You know one or two of them."

  "No," said Hetty, almost fiercely. "I don't know. But Larry wasn'tthere?"

  Clavering shook his head, but there was a curious incisiveness in histone. "Still, we found out that his committee was consulted andcountenanced the affair."

  "Then Larry wasn't at the meeting," said Miss Torrance. "He couldn't havebeen."

  Clavering made her a little and very graceful inclination. "One wouldrespect such faith as yours."

  Miss Schuyler, who was a young woman of some penetration, deftly changedthe topic, and Clavering came near to pleasing her, but he did not quitesucceed, before he took his departure. Then Hetty glanced inquiringly ather companion.

  Flora Schuyler nodded. "I know just what you mean, and I was mistaken."

  "Yes?" said Hetty. "Then you like him?"

  Miss Schuyler shook her head. "No. I fancied he was clever, and he didn'tcome up to my expectations. You see, he was too obvious."

  "About Larry?"

  "Yes. Are you not just a little inconsistent, Hetty?"

  Miss Torrance laughed. "I don't know," she said. "I am, of course, quiteangry with Larry, but nobody else has a right to abuse him."

  Flora Schuyler said nothing further, and while she sat in thoughtfulsilence Clavering walked down the hall with Hetty's maid. He was awell-favoured man, and the girl was vain. She blushed when he looked downon her with a trace of admiration in his smile.

  "You like the prairie?" he said.

  She admitted that she was pleased with what she had seen of it, andClavering's assumed admiration became bolder.

  "Well, it's a good country, and different from the East," he said. "Thereare a good many more dollars to be picked up here, and pretty women arequite scarce. They usually get married right off to a rancher. Now I guessyou came out to better yourself. It takes quite a long time to get richdown East."

  The girl blushed again, and when she informed him that she had a crippledsister who was a charge on the family, Clavering smiled as he drew on aleather glove.

  "You'll find you have struck the right place," he said. "Now I wonder ifyou could fix a pin or something in this button shank. It's coming off,you see."

  The girl did it, and when he went out found a bill lying on the tablewhere he had been standing. The value of it somewhat astonished her, butafter a little deliberation she put it in her pocket.

  "If he doesn't ask for it when he comes back I'll know he meant me to keepit," she said.