Part 56 (1/2)
”Yes, ma'am. I'm takin' orders from you.”
”But you mustn't wait for me to tell you. Just be yourself, and then I know you will never be ashamed of anything you do. I must go now.
Good-bye, Lorry.”
She gave her hand, and he drew her to him. But she turned her face away as he bent his head above her.
”No; not now, Lorry. I--can't. Please don't.”
”I--guess you're right. I reckon you showed me just where I stand. Yes, you're plumb right about it, Dorothy. But I'm comin' back--”
”I'll wait for you,” she said softly.
He turned briskly to the ponies. The pack-horses plodded up the trail as he mounted Gray Leg and rode over to her.
She reached up and patted Gray Leg's nose. ”Good-bye, everybody!” she chirruped. And she kissed Gray Leg's nose.
Back in the ranges, far from the Big Spring, Lorry made his camp that night. As he hobbled the horses he talked to them affectionately after his manner when alone with them.
”And you, you old trail-hitter,” he said to Gray Leg, ”I reckon you think you're some ladies' man, don't you? Well, you got a right to be proud. Step along there, and 'tend to your grazin' and don't go to rubbin' noses with the other horses. You're a fool if you do.”
CHAPTER x.x.xII
_Politics_
The week following Lorry's departure the Westons left for the East. As for Dorothy, she confessed to herself that she was not sorry. While Alice had been unusually nice to every one, Dorothy felt that Alice was forcing herself to appear natural and happy. Mrs. Weston knew this, and wondered what the cause could be. Mrs. Weston had found Dorothy delightful and Bronson interesting, but she had been so long in the West that its novelty had worn thin. She did not regret it when they s.h.i.+pped their machine from Stacey and took the Overland for New York.
A few days after they had gone, Bud Shoop rode up to the Blue Mesa. It was evident that he wanted to talk with Bronson, so Dorothy coaxed Bondsman to her favorite tree, and sat stroking his s.h.a.ggy head as she read from a new book that Shoop had brought with the mail.
The genial Bud was in a fix. Perhaps Bronson, who had been a newspaper man and knew something about politics, could help him out. Bronson disclaimed any special keenness of political intelligence, but said he would be glad to do anything he could for Shoop.
”It's like this,” Bud began, seating himself on the edge of the veranda; ”John Torrance, who was supervisor before you came in, got me this job and put it up to me to stick. Now, I like John, and I figure John ain't scared of me. But here's where I lose the trail. A ole friend, the biggest s.h.i.+pper of sheep in this State, goes and gets it into his head that they's a State Senator over there drawin' down pay that ought to come to me. Recollec', I said he was a sheepman--and I been for the longhorns all my days. And he's got the nerve to tell me that all the sheepmen in this here county are strong for me if I run for the job. If I didn't know him like I know this here right hand, I would say he was gettin' hardenin' of the brain in his ole aige. But he's a long ways from havin' his head examined yet.
”Then along comes a representative of the Cattlemen's a.s.sociation and says they want me to run for State Senator. Then along comes a committee of hay-t.o.s.s.e.rs from up around St. Johns and says, polite, that they are waitin' my pleasure in the matter of framin' up their ticket for senatorial candidate from this mesa country. They say that the present enc.u.mbrance in the senatorial chair is such a dog-gone thief that he steals from hisself just to keep in practice. I don't say so. 'Course, if I can get to a chair that looks big and easy, without stompin' on anybody--why, I'm like to set down. But if I can't, I figure to set where I be.
”Now, this here war talk is gettin' folks excited. And ridin'
excitement down the trail of politics is like tryin' to ride white lightnin' bareback. It's like to leave you so your friends can't tell what you looked like. And somebody that ain't got brains enough to plug the hole in a watch-key has been talkin' around that Bud Shoop is a fighter, with a record for gettin' what he goes after. And that this same Bud Shoop is as honest as the day is long. Now, I've seen some mighty short days when I was tradin' hosses. And then this here stingin'
lizard goes to work and digs up my deputy number over to Sterling and sets the papers to printin' as how it was me, with the help of a few parties whose names are of no special int'rest, settled that strike.”
”So you were at Sterling?”
”Uh-uh. Between you and me, I was. And it wa'n't what you'd call a girl's school for boys, neither. But that's done. What I'm gettin' at is: If I resign here, after givin' my word to Torrance to stick, it looks like I been playin' with one hand under the table. The papers will lie like h.e.l.l boostin' me, and if I don't lie like h.e.l.l, boostin'
myself, folks'll think I'm a liar, anyhow. Now, takin' such folks one at a time, out back of the store, mebby, where they ain't no wimmin-folks, I reckon I could make 'em think different. But I can't lick the county.
I ain't no angel. I never found that tellin' the truth kep' me awake nights. And I sleep pretty good. Now, I writ to Torrance, tellin' him just how things was headed. What do you think he writ back?”
”Why, he told you to go ahead and win, didn't he?”
”Yep. And he said that it was apparent that the State needed my services more than the Service did. That's somethin' like a train with a engine on each end. You don't know which way it's headed.”