CHAPTER IV
A MEMORY OF THE RIDER
A quiet satisfaction shone from Ruth's eyes when, accompanied by AuntMartha and Uncle Jepson, she completed her inspection of the ranchhouse.
"It isn't all that could be desired," she told Aunt Martha, "but it isbetter than I expected."
"It's comfortable, dearie," mildly smiled Aunt Martha.
"An' big enough for a feller to stretch his legs in," added Uncle Jepson.He was sitting in a big chair at one of the front windows of thesitting-room, having already adjusted himself to his new surroundings,and was smoking a short briar pipe and looking out of the window at thebunkhouse, in front of which stood Pickett, Chavis, and Masten, talkingand laughing.
While Ruth and her relatives had been inspecting one of the upstairsrooms, she had heard the men bringing the baggage in, had heard themclumping up the stairs and setting the trunks down. Then they went out,and a little later, peering from one of the windows upstairs, Ruth hadseen Masten and the other two walking toward the stable. They weretalking pleasantly; their liking for each other seemed to be mutual. Ruthwas delighted, but Uncle Jepson had frowned several times when looking atthem.
"I cal'late them two critters'll bear a heap of watchin'," he said now."They don't look honest."
"Jep," said Aunt Martha before Ruth could speak, "you're alwayscriticising folks."
"It's in their faces drat 'em," insisted Uncle Jepson. He turned avindictive eye on his niece. "If I'd have been fifty year younger I'dhave give that Chavis a durn good thrashin' for sayin' what he did to youabout pretty gals. Durn his hide, anyhow! That there Wil--"
"I felt that way myself, at first," smiled Ruth. "Afterwards, though, Ifelt differently. I suppose they were glad to see the new owner. Perhapsthey haven't seen a lady in a long time."
"There's ways of showin' gladness," contended Uncle Jepson. "I cal'lateif I wanted to compliment a girl, I wouldn't look at her like I wanted tocarry her off to the mountains."
"Jep, they're only cowboys--they don't know any different," remonstratedAunt Martha.
"They don't, eh?" sniffed Uncle Jepson. "I cal'late that feller, RexRanderson, is some different, ain't he? There's a gentleman, Ruth. Youdidn't see him makin' no ox-eyes. An' I'll bet you wouldn't ketch himgettin' thick with them two plug-uglies out there!"
Ruth turned away, smiling tolerantly, after having caught a glimpse ofAunt Martha's brows, uplifted in resignation. She was as fully aware ofUncle Jepson's dislike of Willard Masten as she was of Uncle Jepson'stestiness and of his habit of speaking his thoughts without reservation.
Also, she had always avoided opposing him. It did not seem to be worthwhile. He had been left destitute, except for the little farm back nearPoughkeepsie which he had sold at her request to accompany her here, andshe felt that habits of thought and speech are firmly fixed atsixty-nine, and argument cannot shake them.
That first day at the ranchhouse was the beginning of a new existence forRuth. Bound for years by the narrow restrictions and conventionality ofthe Poughkeepsie countryside, she found the spaciousness and newness ofthis life inviting and satisfying. Here there seemed to be no limit,either to the space or to the flights that one's soul might take, and inthe solemn grandeur of the open she felt the omnipotence of God and thespell of nature.
She had plenty of time after the first day to hold communion with theCreator. Masten was rarely near her. His acquaintance with Pickett andChavis seemed destined to develop into friendship. He rode much withthem--"looking over the range," he told her--and only in the evening didhe find time to devote to her.
Wes Vickers returned from Red Rock on the morning following Ruth'sarrival. Apparently, in spite of Randerson's prediction, Vickers did notget drunk in town. Through him Ruth learned much about the Flying W. Hegave her the fruit of his experience, and he had been with the Flying Was range boss for nearly five years.
Vickers was forty. His hair was gray at the temples; he was slightlystoop-shouldered from years in the saddle, and his legs were bowed fromthe same cause. He was the driving force of the Flying W. Ruth's unclehad written her to that effect the year before during his illness,stating that without Vickers' help he would be compelled to sell theranch. The truth of this statement dawned upon Ruth very soon after heracquaintance with Vickers. He was argus-eyed, omnipresent. It seemed thathe never slept. Mornings when she would arise with the dawn she wouldfind Vickers gone to visit some distant part of the range. She was seldomawake at night when he returned.
He had said little to her regarding the men. "They 'tend to business,"was his invariable response when she sought to question him. "It's apretty wild life," he told her when one day about two weeks after hercoming she had pressed him; "an' the boys just can't help kickin' overthe traces once in a while."
"Chavis and Pickett good men?" she asked.
"You saw anything to show you they ain't?" he said, with a queer look ather.
"Why, no," she returned. But her cheeks reddened.
He looked at her with a peculiar squint. "Seems like Masten runnin' withthem shows that they ain't nothin' wrong with them," he said.
She had no reply to make to this, but she was vaguely disturbed over theexpression in Vickers' eyes; that look seemed to indicate that her ownfirst impression of the two men, and Uncle Jepson's later condemnation ofthem, might be correct. However, they did not bother her, and she feltcertain that Masten could care for himself.
With Masten absent with Chavis and Pickett nearly every day, Ruth hadmuch time to herself. The river attracted her, and she rode to it manytimes, on a slant-eyed pony that Vickers had selected for her, and whichhad been gentled by a young cowpuncher brought in from an outlying campsolely for that purpose by the range boss. The young puncher had beenreluctant to come, and he was equally reluctant to go.
"This here cayuse," he said to Vickers, when the latter instructed him toreturn to his outfit, saying that Miss Ruth thought she could now ridethe pony without trouble, "is got a heap of devilment in him, yet--whichought to come out."
"Miss Ruth's got a fellow," said the range boss, in seeming irrelevance.But the young puncher sneered a malignant denial and rode away to hiscamp.
There were fourteen other men employed by the Flying W. Ruth met them atvarious times. Invariably they were looking for strays. They seemed--someof them--content to look at her; others, bolder, manufactured ingenuouspretexts to talk; but--all were gentlemen.
She arose one morning during the third week of her stay at the ranch, tobe greeted by one of those perfect days that late spring brings. It hadbeen dry for a week, with a hint of receding chill in the air, and thecomfort of a wrap was still felt. But on this morning the sun was showinghis power, and a balmy south breeze that entered her window was burdenedwith the aroma of sage, strong and delicious. She got out of bed andlooked out of the window. It was a changed world. Summer had comeovernight. No morning in the East had ever made her feel quite like this.
Out on the front porch later in the morning, with Chavis and Pickettstanding near, she asked Masten to ride with her.
He seemed annoyed, but spoke persuasively.
"Put it off a day, won't you, Ruth? There's a good girl. I've promised togo to Lazette with the boys this morning, and I don't want to disappointthem." Then, seeing the disappointment in her eyes, he added: "Where didyou want to ride?"
"Why," she said, hoping that, after all, he might change his mind, "I'monly going to the box canyon, down the river. There's such a prettystretch of timber there."
He smiled indulgently. "I'll try to meet you there, this afternoon aboutthree, if I can make it. But don't wait longer." He turned his back toher and presently went away with Chavis and Pickett.
She stood for a little time, watching them as they mounted down near thecorral gate and rode away, and then she turned and observed Uncle Jepsonstanding near a corner of the house, smoking, and watching her. Sheforced a smile and went into the house.
A little after noon she saddled her pony and rode away toward the river.She had decided that perhaps Masten might keep his appointment in spiteof the obvious insincerity that had been expressed on his face duringtheir talk.
It was fully five miles to the grove at the head of the box canyon, andshe made a leisurely ride of it, so that it must have been nearly twoo'clock when she dismounted and hitched the pony to a tree. Seatingherself on a flat rock near the canyon edge, she settled herself to wait.
It seemed a long time. Twice after half-past two she looked at her watch,impatiently. At three she looked again; and, disappointed, she was aboutto rise to go to her pony, when she heard the rapid drumming of hoofsnear her.
With leaping heart and flushed face she turned her back to the directionfrom which the sounds seemed to come and waited listening, trying toappear unconcerned. She would make him believe she had not heard him. Hedid care, after all, enough to part with his companions--for her sake.She had misjudged him, and she was sincerely repentant. And when sheheard his pony come to a halt near her she had to clench her hands tokeep from turning to face him.
She heard him dismount, heard the rustle and crackling of twigs under hisfeet as he approached, and then, feeling that it would be futile todissemble further, she turned, a smile on her lips.
Standing within five feet of her, grinning with amusement, was TomChavis. Curiously enough, despite her former fear of the man she did notfear him now, and after the first shock of surprise she looked at himcomposedly, for she half suspected that Masten had sent him, fearing thatshe _would_ wait in spite of his admonition not to do so. She got up andfaced Chavis.
"Mr. Masten couldn't come, I suppose?" she said.
"That's right," he said, looking at her oddly; "he couldn't come. Yousee, he's sort of taken a shine to a biscuit shooter in Crogan's, over inLazette, an' he couldn't very well break away."
"A biscuit shooter!" she said, uncomprehendingly.
"Sure. I reckon that back East you'd call her a waitress, or somethin'. Iain't admirin' his taste none. She ain't nowheres near as good-lookin' asyou."
Her first emotion was one of sickening, maddening jealousy. It made herphysically weak, and she trembled as she fought it down. But thesensation passed and, though she felt that her face was hot and flushed,the cold calm of righteous resentment was slowly seizing her.
"Did Mr. Masten send you here to tell me this?" she asked icily.
"Why, no. I did it on my own hook. I knowed you'd be waitin'--I heard youmakin' the date with Willard, this mornin'. An' I figgered that what wasfair for one was fair for another. So I sneaked away from Willard an'come here. I've taken quite a shine to you, ma'am; you've sure got mesome flustered. An' I reckon--" here he took a step toward her andgrinned significantly "that I'll make a rattlin' good substitute forWillard."
She struck at him, blindly, savagely. She felt her open hand strike hischeek, heard him curse, and then, in a daze she was running toward herpony. She did not turn, but furiously raced the animal across the plainstoward the ranchhouse.
She was calmer when she reached the house, but went directly to her room,where she changed her clothes and sat for a long time at one of thewindows, looking toward the river--and toward Lazette.
Downstairs, Uncle Jepson, who from a window of the bunkhouse had seen hercome in, had followed her into the house, to remark grumblingly to AuntMartha:
"Willard didn't meet her, drat him!"
Ruth passed a miserable night, thinking over Chavis' words. The man mighthave been lying. Obviously, common fairness demanded that she tell Mastenof the circumstance. On one thing she was determined: that Chavis shouldleave the ranch, whether he had lied to her or not. She would haveinstructed Vickers to attend to that, but Vickers had gone again to RedRock on business, and would not return for two or three days. She wouldwait until Vickers returned to discharge Chavis, but she must tell Mastenof the insult, for she yearned to see Chavis punished.
She waited until after breakfast the following morning, and then sheinduced Masten to walk with her, under pretext of examining the flowerbeds. Reaching them, she faced him fairly.
"Willard," she said, her lips white and stiff, "there must be nodouble-dealing between you and me. Tom Chavis told me yesterday that youare interested in a waitress in Lazette. Is that true?"
He started, flushed darkly, and then smiled blandly.
"Tom Chavis is romancing, my dear. If there is a waitress in Lazette Ihave not seen her." He seized her by the shoulders and spoke earnestly."I am interested in Ruth Harkness, my dear. You surely don't believe sucha story, do you, Ruth?"
He looked at her so frankly that her jealousy took wings, and she blushedand lowered her eyes. She raised them again, almost instantly, however;they were glowing vindictively.
"Tom Chavis came to the box canyon at three yesterday afternoon," shesaid firmly. "He insulted me. I want you to discharge him; Vickers is nothere to do it. And I do not want to see him again."
He pressed his lips together and avoided her gaze, and a slow red stoleinto his face. Then he laughed mirthlessly.
"Tom Chavis is a valuable man here, Ruth," he said. "If the insult wasone that can be overlooked, you would do well to let the matter rest. Butbe assured that I shall have a talk with Chavis, and you may believe thathe will not repeat the offense." He patted her shoulder. "In themeantime," he said, with a hurt expression in his eyes, "do have somefaith in me."
Reassured, convinced that she had done him an injustice in believing Chavis,she passed the remainder of the day in comparative light-heartedness.But when the awesome darkness of the West settled over the country, anddeep, stirring thoughts came to her on her pillow, she found herselfthinking of the rider of the river. He grew very vivid in her thoughts,and she found herself wondering,--remembering the stern manliness of hisface,--whether he, listening to the story of Chavis' insult from her lips,would have sought to find excuses for her insulter.