Part 38 (1/2)

Next day, we circled the peak and got up to the spot we had picked out. We could see the clump o' trees plain enough; and along about three in the afternoon, we saw the woman come up the path, walkin'

slow an' actin' weary. She had two big dogs with her, and whenever she'd stop to rest a bit, she'd pet 'em. ”Well,” sez The, ”things has changed a heap when ol' Ty Jones stands for havin' his dogs patted.”

We couldn't get a good view of her face from where we were, but we could get a fine view o' the ranch buildin's. The' didn't seem to be much work on hand, and we saw eight or ten men foolin' around an'

pretendin' to do ch.o.r.es. The recognized the two Greasers he had been ridin' with the day he had pulled on Horace, and one or two others; but most of 'em was strangers to him. He said the Greasers were about the most devilish speciments he had ever herded with-an' Ty's whole outfit was made up o' fellers who had qualified to wear hemp.

Horace was keen to go on down to her an' get a good look; but me an'

The took the bits in our teeth at this. We knew what those dogs were like, an' refused pointblank to go a peg unless he could think up a good enough excuse for us to give to Ty Jones-and we wouldn't let Horace go down alone.

”The best plan I can see,” sez I, pointin' to a cl.u.s.ter o' big rocks down the slope to the left, ”is to circle back to those rocks. We can see her face plain from there when she comes back the path.”

After examinin' this plan we decided it was the best; but when we went after our hosses, Horace's had broke his reins an' gone back through the hills. By the time me an' The had rounded him up, it was too late, so we had to wait till next day.

Next day I left the other two at our first look-out and rode on to the new one. As soon as she came in sight, I waved my hat to 'em and they sneaked down to the bunch o' rocks. I rode back an' left my hoss with theirs, an' then joined 'em.

She didn't come into view till after five o'clock. When she reached the edge of the ravine an' started down, she paused an' looked off into the valley with her face in plain view. Horace looked at it through his gla.s.ses, gave a start, and then handed the gla.s.ses to The.

”Have you ever seen any one who looked like her?” sez he.

The looked and broke out into a regular expression. ”That's the original of the photograph I had,” sez he.

”That's the Friar's girl, sure as the sky's above us,” sez Horace.

I grabbed the gla.s.s and took a look. She did look like the picture, but older and more careworn. Some way I had allus thought o' the Friar's girl as bein' young and full of high spirits, with her head thrown back an' her eyes dancin'; but just as I looked through the gla.s.ses, she pressed her hands to her head, and her face was wrinkled with pain. She was better lookin' than common, but most unhappy.

”That devil, Ty Jones, is mean to her!” I growled between my teeth.

”Dogs or no dogs, I'm goin' down to have a talk with her,” sez Horace.

He started to get up, but I pulled him back to the ground. I had kept my eyes on her, and had seen the two dogs turn their heads down the ravine, and her own head turn with a jerk, as though some one had called to her. Horace looked through the gla.s.ses again, and said he could see her lips move as though talkin' to some one, and then she went down into the ravine. We couldn't see the bottom of the ravine from where we were, nor we couldn't see the ranch buildin's; so we hustled back through some washes to our look-out, and reached it just as she and Ty came out at the bottom.

They were walkin' side by side, but Horace, who was lookin' through the gla.s.ses, said they seemed to be quarrelin'. ”It's moonlight to-night,” sez Horace, ”and I'm goin' to sneak down and try to see her.”

We argued again' it all we could, but he stood firm; so all we could do was to sit there and wait for the lights to go out in the bunk-house. As she was a reader, we figured 'at she'd be the last one to turn in; normal habits an' appet.i.tes not havin' much effect on book-readers.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

JUSTICE UNDELAYED

Human emotions are like clocks: some of 'em will run longer 'n others; but they'll all run down unless they're wound up again every so often.

Even fear will only run so long, as several late-lamented bullies have been forced to learn just before they pa.s.sed over the Great Divide.

After you've scared a feller as bad as he can get, it is well enough to let him alone. If you keep on addin' horror onto horror, his fear is likely to run down; and the chances are 'at he'll get irritated, and slaughter ya.

I don't know whether or not patience can rightly be called an emotion; but anyway, mine runs down a little easier 'n airy other o' my faculties, and sittin' up in the chill an' waitin' for a lot o'

festive fools to go to bed, allus was just the sort o' thing to disgust me. Those Cross-branders didn't seem to have any more use for shut-eye that night than a convention o' owls. Some of 'em rode off at dusk, but more of 'em arrived, and they held some sort of high jinks in the bunk-house, till I began to talk back at myself loud enough for all to hear. It was full moon an' we could see dogs loafin' an'

fightin' down at the ranch, the light in the new cabin was the first to go out, an' for the life of me, I couldn't see where we had a single pair to stay on; but Horace seemed to acc.u.mulate obstinacy with every breath he drew. The sided with me, but criticizin' Horace went again' his religion, so he didn't make any more uproar than a gnat fight.

Finally I calmed down until I could stretch each word out a full breath an' sez in my doviest voice: ”Horace, will you kindly tell me what in h.e.l.l you intend to do?”

He studied the situation careful, and took all the time he needed to do it. ”I'm goin' back to camp,” sez he. ”To-morrow night they'll be sleepy, and we'll have the whole place to ourselves.”