Part 52 (1/2)

”I'll tell you about it to-morrow on the way over.”

”Where is he?”

”At Kate Prentice's--at headquarters.”

Mrs. Taylor stiffened.

”I shouldn't care to go there, Clarence.” Seeing that his face clouded, she added: ”Of course, if your heart is set upon it--the woman wouldn't construe it as a 'call' and return it, would she?”

”I hardly think so,” replied Teeters dryly.

As a result of this conversation, the following morning Kate saw Teeters driving up Bitter Creek with a second person on the seat beside him. She had just come down from Burnt Basin and was not in too good a humor.

Bowers, who was staying with Mullendore, came out of the wagon when he heard her and asked:

”How was it lookin'?”

”The spring was trampled to a bog,” she said in an exasperated voice, ”and the range is covered with bare spots where that dry-farmer has salted his cattle. I'll throw two bands of sheep in there, and when I take 'em off there won't be roots enough left to grow gra.s.s for five years. If it's fight he wants, I'll give him all he's looking for.” Her brow cleared as she added:

”Teeters is coming up the road and bringing some one with him.” She nodded towards the wagon, ”How is he?”

”I doubt if he lasts the day out.”

Kate frowned when she recognized Mrs. Taylor. They pa.s.sed occasionally on the road to Prouty, but always without speaking. Kate never had forgiven the affront at the Prouty House, while Mrs. Taylor preserved her uncompromising att.i.tude towards ”rough characters.”

Mrs. Taylor looked like a grenadier in a long snuff-brown coat and jaunty sailor hat as she descended from the buckboard without using the step. The benign cow-like complacency of her face always had irritated Kate, and now, as she advanced with the air of a great lady slumming, Kate felt herself tingling.

”How do you do, my dear?” She extended a large hand with a brown cotton glove upon it.

Kate's hand remained at her side, as she said coldly:

”How do you do, Mrs. Taylor?”

Mrs. Taylor's manner said that it was the gracious act of an unsullied woman extending a hand to a fallen sister when she laid her brown cotton paw upon Kate's arm and quavered pityingly:

”You po-oo-or soul!”

”You stupid woman!” Kate's eyes at the moment looked like steel points emitting sparks.

Mrs. Taylor drew herself up haughtily and was about to retort, but thought better of it. Instead, she declared with n.o.ble magnanimity:

”I am not angery. I have not been angery in thirty years. You are very rude, but I can rise above it and forgive you, because I realize you've had no raising.”

”I hope,” said Kate hotly, ”that you realize also that you are not here by my invitation.”

Mrs. Taylor looked as if she was not only about to forget that she was a saint but a lady, while Teeters had a sensation of being rent by feline claws.

It seemed like a direct intervention of Providence when Bowers hung out of the door of the wagon and called excitedly:

”I believe he's goin'!”