CHAPTER III
OLD PASTIMES
One Saturday afternoon several days later Jacqueline Kent, escaping fromher family, rode alone down to the great ranch house a mile or more fromthe Rainbow lodge. She had not had an opportunity to visit the ranchhouse since her arrival at her former home. Yet as a young girl shealways had enjoyed slipping off to the big ranch house unaccompanied bythe other Ranch Girls and usually without Jim Colter's knowledge orconsent. In the ranch house lived the ranchmen, or the cowboys wholooked after the livestock on the great place.
To-day as Jack rode up to the house only three or four of the ranchmenwere visible and they were standing on the rough log porch smoking andtalking to one another.
But the four sombreros were immediately lifted, and one of the men cameforward.
"Glad to see you, Lady Kent. Is there any order you wish to give, or anymessage? Sorry the greater number of the fellows are not here atpresent. This is Saturday afternoon, you see, and a half holiday. Theyare off entertaining themselves, but we'll have the laugh on them whenwe tell them that we have had a visit from you."
The Wyoming cowboy spoke with a courtesy and self-possession Jack hadoften seen lacking among more distinguished persons. However, perhaps"distinguished" is not the proper adjective, since her present companionpossessed, stored inside his kit, among the personal treasures in hisrough, pine-wood chamber a Distinguished Service Medal presented him bythe United States Government and a Croix de Guerre, the gift of agrateful France.
Jack shook her head.
"No, I haven't a message or an order. I merely wanted to see the oldranch house and be introduced to the men. But don't call me Lady Kent. Iam Mrs. Kent; now that I have returned to my own country a title strikesme as an absurdity. It is hard enough to remember, these days, that I amnot Jacqueline Ralston; the ranch is so like it used to be when I was ayoung girl. I am sorry not to find the other men, as I rode over thisafternoon knowing it was Saturday and hoping I might meet them. May I beintroduced to the three men who are here, if they don't mind?"
Jack spoke with a mixture of shyness and friendliness entirely naturalto her, but in the present circumstances, perhaps unusual.
The man to whom she was speaking was John Simmons, one of the assistantmanagers of the Rainbow ranch to whom Jim Colter had introduced hershortly after her arrival at her old home.
At a summons from him, the three other men rushed forward as if onlyawaiting the opportunity, and leaning from her horse, holding the bridlein her left hand, Jack shook hands cordially with her new acquaintances.
"More sport this, ma'am, than lassoing a wild colt!" one of the cowboysdrawled, as Jack smiled upon him. His three companions, after firstshouting with laughter, proceeded to frown upon the young fellow. He wasonly a boy not yet twenty-one, from the Kentucky mountains, whonevertheless had served with the American Expeditionary Forces in Francefor eighteen months.
"But are the men practicing lassoing this afternoon? If they are,please do take me to see what is going on. Is there to be a contest?"Jack inquired. "I used to know something about the business myself, longago when I was a girl. I have even tried using the lasso, although I wasnever a great success according to Jim Colter, who did his best to teachme."
"If you'll wait until we get our horses," John Simmons replied.
A few moments later Jack and her four masculine companions weregalloping toward one of the farther boundaries of the Rainbow ranch.
After half an hour's steady riding they came upon from twenty to thirtyyoung ranchmen gathered about an open stretch of country. A third of themen were employees of the Rainbow ranch, the others were fromneighboring places.
The men were grouped together, some of them on horseback, others atpresent afoot. Not far away were a dozen western ponies still unbrokeneither for riding or driving, but captured and brought to thisparticular spot. Firmly tethered to stakes, they were now pawing theearth, tossing their pretty heads in the air and kicking and bucking ifany one approached.
If the men were astonished by the appearance of Jacqueline Kent upon thescene, they were sufficiently polite to make no mention of the fact. Ifthey exchanged glances of surprise or whispered comments, Jack was toolittle self-conscious and too interested in the spectacle before her andwhat was about to take place to consider her own position.
Apart from the group, facing a broad, flat prairie field were two of theranchmen, a few yards separating them. Over their right arms hung theirlong lariats, coils of rope with a slip noose at the end.
A pony unloosed at a given signal would make a plunge for liberty. Thenthe two men with the lassos would be after him. The pony has a fairstart in open field, and the race for freedom lies before him.
In her eager interest, scarcely realizing what she was doing, Jack madeher way to the front line of the group of spectators, the men giving wayto her partly from amusement and partly from courtesy. The larger numberof them had no personal acquaintance with her, yet she was well enoughknown by reputation. One of the owners of the famous Rainbow ranch,herself a Ranch girl until her marriage to an Englishman, the fact thatsince her husband's death Jacqueline Ralston Kent had returned home withthe avowed intention of resuming her American citizenship was alreadybecome a subject for gossip, for approval or disapproval among herneighbors.
Staring at her secretly when the chance offered, there was in allprobability the usual difference of opinion concerning her among theonlookers. But with one fact they would all have agreed: Lady Kent, orMrs. Kent, as she was said to prefer being called, looked younger thanany one who had heard her history could have thought possible.
In truth, this afternoon, in her usual informal fashion, Jack waswearing an old corduroy riding habit which she had left behind her atthe Rainbow lodge several years before upon the occasion of her previousvisit home. It was of dust color, plainly made with a long, closefitting coat and divided skirt. Her riding boots and gloves, however,were of the softest and most beautiful English manufacture; her hat ofbrown felt, with a broad brim.
This afternoon Jack's cheeks were a deep rose color, her eyes wereglowing, her full red lips were parted from excitement and pleasure asshe watched.
Away toward the outermost bounds rushed the little untamed colt, hispursuers close on his track. Then a long rope swung through the air,coil on coil unloosed, rose beautiful as bubbles afloat, with the nooseready to capture and bring the pony to a standstill.
The first man is unsuccessful and the bystanders raise a shout ofderision. This changes to applause when the second man slips his nooseeasily over the pony and gently draws it until the four protesting feetare held fast.
Then the pony is brought back, again tied to its stake and a secondcontest begins anew.
There was no cruelty in this sport, only a test of courage and skill,since sooner or later the wild ponies must be captured and tamed andtaught to do their portion of the world's work.
Had she forgotten how exhilarating, how thrilling the lassoing was? Jackfelt her heart pounding, her blood coursing more swiftly in her veins asshe half stood in her saddle waving her applause at each victory.
"I suppose I should not dare attempt to find if I have altogether lostmy skill?" she asked of her companion, the assistant manager of theRainbow ranch, who had managed to keep near her all afternoon. "Would itbore the men dreadfully to have me take part, do you think? Of course Iought not to be willing to disgrace myself before so many people."
As a matter of fact, Jack was talking to herself, arguing with her owndesire, as well as asking the advice of her companion.
"I don't know. Do you realize that if one is out of practice roping is afairly dangerous sport, Mrs. Kent? I don't think I would undertake it,"John Simmons protested.
But Jack found an unexpected ally.
Without her being aware of it, the young Kentuckian whom she had met forthe first time at the ranch house a short while before, had remained asfaithful an escort as the assistant manager of the ranch, and a moredevoted one, s
ince John Simmons regarded the protection of Mrs. Kentunder the present circumstances as his duty, while with Billy Prestonthere was no question of duty but of pleasure.
"You don't mean you've got the nerve to git into the present game, Mrs.Kent?" he queried, his manner perfectly respectful, in spite of theoddity of his speech. "I've been ridin' all my days, was pretty nighborn on a horse, anyhow used to hang on when I couldn't 'a' been more'ntwo or three years old, 'cause there wasn't no other way of gittin' upor down our hills in them days. But this here lassoing game, I'm not onto _it_ yet. Seems like it would be kind of worth while to see you goafter one of them colts and rope her and lead her in same as one of themen. I can't come to believe a woman could ever manage it."
"Maybe I could not," Jack answered, but both her interest and vanitywere stimulated. It was a curious fact that she had so little personalvanity in most things, and yet like a boy had a boy's ambition if not aboy's vanity with regard to outdoor pastimes.
Disappearing a moment, Billy Preston rode up again soon after with oneof the other ranchmen, who happened to be in charge of the afternoon'scontest.
"If you would like to try your hand, Mrs. Kent, and are not afraid ofgetting into trouble, why of course there is no objection. Any one ofthe fellows will be glad of the chance to ride beside you and give youthe first throw."
Jack laughed, hesitated and weakened. As a matter of fact, she shouldhave known better than to make an exhibition of herself before a groupof strange young men; her instinct, her experience, her judgment, shouldhave taught her better. They did whisper their protest, it was Jack'sfault that she did not heed them, this being her particular failure inlife that she could not see that things which were not intrinsicallywrong in themselves were oftentimes wrong when done at the wrong timeand in the wrong place.
"You don't think I would be too great a bore? Then may I borrow someone's horse? My own is not accustomed to the lassoing."
A short time after, actually unconscious of the unconventionality of herbehavior, Jacqueline Kent with the lariat swung over her arm, before anaudience of perhaps thirty or more amused and absorbed spectators, wasawaiting the moment to ride forward.
The soft prairie winds blew against her face, bringing their familiarfragrances, the circle of mountains far away on the dim horizons hadtheir summits crowned with snow. About her, whinnying and neighing,their slender nostrils quivering with interest in the sport, were thewestern horses she had loved almost as she loved people from the timeshe was little more than a baby. As for her audience, Jack really gaveit scarcely any thought so keyed was she to the business in hand. Hadshe altogether forgotten her past prowess? A moment before she had notbeen entirely truthful, for she had possessed an unusual skill in everyphase of western riding as a young girl, and especially skilful in whatshe was about to undertake.
Yet at present the rope hung slack on her arm with an odd feeling ofunfamiliarity. An instant later Jack flung it in the air, saw it coiland uncoil, heard the singing noise it made, and then drew it back intoplace, feeling an added confidence.
The following instant she was after the pony, her companion riding a fewfeet behind her, but making no effort with his own lasso.
Jack had asked for no quarter, yet was to be afforded every chance. Onceher rope rose, sailed forward and then dropped slack to the ground, thepony cantering on ahead undisturbed, and uncaptured.
In her accustomed fashion laughing at her own failure, Jack settled morefirmly to her task, spurring her horse ahead.
A second time her rope shot forward and now the pony crumpled and wentdown upon its forelegs, Jack drawing the lasso and holding it until hercompanion took the rope from her hand.
Then she turned to ride back to her former place.
Now Jack felt herself blushing warmly and for the first time becameaware of her conspicuous position.
Her audience was laughing and shouting their surprised applause, hatswere being waved in the air. There in front of the others and on foot,Jack beheld Jim Colter, and only a few times in her life could sherecall having seen his face reveal such an expression of disapproval.
"Making an exhibition of yourself, Jack?" he asked after she haddismounted and stood beside him. Then he turned to one of his ownranchmen. "Will you bring Mrs. Kent's horse back to the Rainbow lodge?She will drive home with me."
Led away as if she were a disgraced school-girl, Jack suffered a numberof conflicting emotions--anger, rebellion, embarrassment, andrepentance and some amusement. Surely the time had arrived when herformer guardian should recognize that she was a woman and not a child.Then Jack appreciated that she should have recognized the fact herselfand not made an exhibition of herself as Jim had just said.
"You won't tell the family what I have done, will you, please, Jim?"Jack asked when they were a safe distance away. "I know I have behavedbadly and I suppose it does no good to say that I never appreciated thefact until I had the first look at your face. I hate to have you angry,Jim."
"You will be the talk of the countryside, Jacqueline Kent, and who knowswhere else?" Jim Colter answered. "It's incredible that you did notrealize this. In less than an hour it will be on every tongue that LadyKent has returned to Wyoming to seek the society of the cowboys andranchmen and to engage in their rough sports, and please remember italso will be reported that she seeks their companionship with no otherwomen present. Fine beginning, Jack."
"You are pretty hateful, Jim. I thought you used to tell me not to mindidle gossip."
"I did, Jack, but not when the gossip was justified by your behavior. Asfor my keeping your recent act a secret from the rest of the family, itis not possible. Frieda and Professor Russell, Olive and CaptainMacDonnell, and your former acquaintance, Peter Stevens, are in themotor car waiting for you, unfortunately so near as to be aware of yourproceedings. We motored over to Laramie this afternoon and asked Stevensif he knew what steps you should take in order to resume your Americancitizenship. He was not altogether sure and explained he thought itwould be wiser to look the question up. As he was free for the eveningFrieda invited him to motor to the ranch with us and meet you again.Finding you had gone down to the ranch house, we went in search of you.Ching Lee, who is the present cook at the ranch house, informed me youhad ridden over here with Simmons, which was in itself sufficientlyunconventional, Jack, without the unexpected addition I saw when I leftthe motor and came to look for you."
"Good gracious, Frieda will never let me hear the last of this!" Jackexclaimed. "It is rather too much to have an old acquaintance likePeter Stevens, who never liked or approved of me even in my youth, asanother witness to my discomfiture. Perhaps you would prefer I return toEngland after all, Jim! Can't you forgive me before I join the others;I'll have sufficient disapproval to endure then without yours. I wonderif I dare face Frieda. I'll never make a mistake like this again."
But for once Jim Colter refused to yield to Jack's pleading, being moredeeply disturbed by her action because of its consequent reaction uponher than he had been in some time past. Beautiful, young and daring,with unusual wealth, perhaps it might be wiser if Jack should marryagain, hard as it would be for him to give her up a second time.