CHAPTER V
LOVE VS. BUSINESS
On Sunday afternoon Ruth, Masten, Aunt Martha, and Uncle Jepson weresitting on the front porch of the Flying W ranchhouse. Ruth was readingand thinking--thinking most of the time, the book lying open in her lap.Masten was smoking a cigar--one of the many that he had brought withhim--and which he selfishly kept exclusively for his own use. Mastenseemed to be doing a great deal of thinking, too, for he was silentduring long periods, reclining easily in a big rocker, well-groomed andimmaculate as usual, looking decidedly out of place in this country,where extravagant personal adornment was considered an indication ofeffeminacy.
Yet it was this immaculateness that had attracted Ruth to Masten in thefirst place when a year and a half before she had met him at a party inPoughkeepsie. Fresh from a big city near by, he had outshone the countrygallants at the party as he had outshone the cowboys that Ruth had seensince coming to the Flying W. His courtship had been gallant, too; he hadquite captivated her, and after their engagement--which had been a rathermatter-of-fact affair--she had not found it possible to refuse himpermission to accompany her to the West.
"Have you visited your neighbor yet, Ruth?" Masten inquired at last.
"Neighbor!" Ruth showed astonishment by letting her book close and losingher place. "Why, I didn't know we had a neighbor nearer than the DiamondH!"
Masten's lips curled. Her reference to the Diamond H recalled unpleasantmemories.
"A nester," he said, and then added after a pause--"and his daughter.Only two miles from here, across the river. There's a trail, through abreak in the canyon, leading to their ranch on the other side of theriver. The man's name is Catherson--Abe Catherson. Chavis tells me he wassomething of a bother to your uncle, because of his propensity to stealFlying W cattle. He's an old savage."
"And the daughter?" inquired Ruth, her eyes alight with interest.
"Half wild, bare-footed, ragged. She's pretty, though."
"How old is she, Willard?"
"A mere child. Fifteen, I should judge."
"I shall visit them tomorrow," declared Ruth.
"Sakes alive! Half wild? I should think she would be--living in thatwilderness!" said Aunt Martha, looking up from her knitting, over thetops of her glasses.
"Everything is wild in this country," said Masten, a slight sneer in hisvoice. "The people are repulsive, in dress, manner, and speech." Hedelicately flecked some cigar ash from a coat sleeve.
Uncle Jepson wrinkled his nose belligerently. He sniffed in eloquentpreparation for speech, but Aunt Martha averted the imminent clash bysaying sharply:
"Jep, you hop in there and get that ball of yarn off the dining-roomtable!"
So potent is habit that Uncle Jepson started to obey automatically, Ruthinterjected a word, speaking to Masten, and Uncle Jepson's opportunitywas lost.
Silence reigned again until Ruth, who was facing the Calamity Trail,suddenly exclaimed:
"Some one is coming!"
During the silence she had again been thinking of Rex Randerson, andseeing the figure on the trail she had leaped to the conclusion that itwas he. Her face had flushed. Masten noticed it, for he looked narrowlyat her and, though he said nothing, there was that in his eyes which toldhe had divined what was in her mind.
It was not Randerson, however, but Vickers, who was coming. They allrecognized him when he came closer, and they watched him with thatpeculiar concertedness which seizes upon an expectant company, until hedismounted at the corral gates and came toward them.
Plainly there was something on Vickers' mind, for he smiled mechanicallyas he stepped upon the porch and looked at them.
"Well, I'm back," he said. He looked at Ruth. "There's somethin' I'd liketo say to you. It's business. If you'd rather hear it private--"
"I think there is nothing--" she began.
"Well," he said, "I've got to leave here."
Ruth's face grew long. Uncle Jepson gagged on a mouthful of smoke. AuntMartha ceased knitting. Masten alone seemed unmoved, but an elated gleamwas in his eyes.
"Isn't that a rather sudden decision, Mr. Vickers?" questioned Ruth aftera silence.
"Well, mebbe it is, to you," said Vickers, with some embarrassment. "Butthe fact is, I've been thinkin' of goin' for a long time--about a year tobe exact. I was goin' before your uncle died, but I kept holdin' onbecause he wanted me to. You see, ma'am, I've got a mother back East.She's been poorly for quite a while now, an' has been wantin' me to come.I've been puttin' it off, but it's got to the point where it can't be putoff any longer. I got a letter from her doctor the other day, an' he saysthat she can't last a heap longer. So--I'm goin'."
"That's too bad," sympathized Ruth. "You ought to go, and go quickly."
"I'm aimin' to, ma'am. But I've got to tell you somethin' before I go. Mean' your uncle was pretty thick; he trusted me a heap."
"Yes," said Ruth; "he told me that he liked and trusted you."
"Well, you'll understand then. A couple of months before he cashed in, wewas talkin' of him goin'. He knowed it, ma'am. We was talkin' about theranch. He knowed I wanted to leave. 'What'll I do for a range boss whenyou're gone?' he asked me. 'I won't go till you ain't here any more,' Itells him. An' he grinned. 'I'm goin' to leave the Flyin' W to my niece,Ruth Harkness of Poughkeepsie,' he says. 'I'd like her to stay an' runit--if she likes it here. You'll be gone then, an' who in Sam Hill willbe range boss then?' I told him I didn't have no thoughts on the subject,an' he continues: 'Rex Randerson, Vickers--he'll be range boss. Do youunderstand? If you was to pull your freight right now, Rex Randersonwould be range boss as soon as I could get word over to him. An' ifyou've got any say-so after I'm gone, an' Ruth wants to keep the ranch,you tell her that--that Bill Harkness wants Rex Randerson to be rangeboss after Wes Vickers don't want it any more.' That's what he said,ma'am; them's his very words."
Ruth looked at Masten. He was staring stonily out into the plains. Ruth'scheeks reddened, for she felt that she knew his thoughts. But still,Randerson hadn't really used him ill at the river, and besides, he hadapologized, and it seemed to her that that should end the incident. Also,she still felt rather resentful toward Masten for his attitude toward TomChavis after she had complained. And also, lurking deep in herunsophisticated mind was a most feminine impulse to sting Masten tojealousy. She looked up to meet Vickers' gaze, fixed curiously upon her.
"Could you recommend this man--Randerson?" she asked.
"Why, ma'am, he's got the best reputation of any man in these parts!"
"But is he efficient?"
"Meanin' does he know his business? Well, I reckon. He's got the besthead for range work of any man in the country! He's square, ma'am. An'there ain't no man monkeyin' with him. I've knowed him for five years,an' I ain't ever knowed him to do a crooked trick, exceptin'"--and herehe scratched his head and grinned reminiscently--"when he gets the devilin him which he does occasionally, ma'am--an' goes to jokin', ma'am. Butthey're mostly harmless jokes, ma'am; he's never hurt nobody, bad. But hegot a level head--a heap leveler than a lot of folks that--"
"I think Tom Chavis would make a good range boss, Ruth," said Masten. Hedid not look at her, and his words were expressionless.
"Mister man," said Vickers evenly, "what do you know about Tom Chavis?"
Masten looked quickly at Vickers, and as quickly looked away, his faceslowly reddening.
"He's foreman now, isn't he?" he said. "It seems that Harkness trustedhim that much."
"There's a first time for every man to go wrong, Mister," said Vickers.
Masten's voice was almost a sneer.
"Why don't you tell Chavis that?"
"I've told him, Mister--to his face." Vickers' own face was growing darkwith wrath.
"You were range boss after Harkness' death," persisted Masten. "Whydidn't you discharge Chavis?"
"I'm askin' the new boss for permission to do it now," declared Vickers."It'll be a good wind-up for my stay
here."
"We shall keep Chavis for the present," said Ruth. "However," she addedfirmly, "he shall not be range boss. I do not like him."
Vickers grinned silent applause. And again Uncle Jepson had trouble withhis pipe. Aunt Martha worked her knitting needles a little faster.Masten's face paled, and the hand that held the cigar quickly clenched,so that smoking embers fell to the porch floor. Whatever his feelings,however, he retained his self-control.
"Of course, it is your affair, Ruth," he said. "I beg your pardon foroffering the suggestion."
But he left them shortly afterward, lighting a fresh cigar and walkingtoward the bunkhouse, which was deserted, for Chavis and Pickett had goneto a distant part of the range.
Thus Masten did not see Vickers, when a little later he came out on theporch with his war-bag. He said good-bye to Aunt Martha and Uncle Jepson,and then he took Ruth's hand and held it long.
"You'll never go a heap wrong when you use your own judgment, girl," hesaid. "I'm ridin' over to the Diamond H to tell Randerson about his newjob. Don't make no mistake, girl. Rex Randerson is square. An' if anytrouble comes sneakin' around you, take it to Rex; he'll stick on theright side till hell freezes over."
"I am Ruth Harkness, the new owner of the Flying W"]