Part 13 (1/2)
From time to time she sent for one of her men and quizzed him rigidly on some phase of the work with which he was particularly familiar, never satisfied until she had learned all that he could teach her.
Every evening Hepburn sat with her and discussed ranch affairs at length, Jane forcing him into argument to defend his statements.
While with the girl Dad maintained his paternal, patronizing att.i.tude, yet he was not content, as was evident from the moroseness which he displayed before the men. He had been stripped of initiative until his authority was reduced to executing orders; this, despite the fact that Jane depended on him for most of her information.
Beck watched the foreman's att.i.tude carefully. Hepburn was chagrined, yet dogged, as though staying on and accepting the situation for definite purpose. It had been decided after Jane had argued away Hepburn's objections that Beck was to have a free hand with the horses, gathering the saddle stock and getting it in shape for the summer's work, breaking young horses, watching the mares and colts. This made it unnecessary for Beck to look to the older man for detailed orders and delayed the clashes which were bound to come between them.
Jane's approach to her responsibilities was considered admirable by the men, but it occasioned little comment. Their judgment of her was still suspended; that is, with the exception of Two-Bits. Her first look had won him without reservation.
”She's smart!” he declared at frequent intervals. ”She's the smartest girl I've ever seen ... an' the loveliest!” The last with a drop in the voice which provoked laughter.
Once he said to Beck:
”My gosh, Tommy, how'd you like to have wife like her?”
The other smiled cryptically.
”Now you're gettin' into a profound subject,” he said. ”It ain't wise to pick out a wife like you'd pick out a horse. There ain't much can fool a man who knows horses when he looks one over careful-like, but there's a lot about women that you can't know by lookin' 'em over and watching 'em step.”
He was watching Jane ”step” and though he still was the first to listen when others spoke of her qualities his manner toward her was the least flattering of any.
After she had ridden the sorrel twice, each time accompanied by Beck or Hepburn she sent Two-Bits to saddle him.
”What you doing with that horse?” Beck asked, looking up from the hoof of a colt which he pared gently to reveal some hidden infection.
”She wants him to ride,” the cowboy explained.
”Goin' alone?”
”Guess so.”
”Then take that saddle off and put it on the little pinto.”
”But she said to--”
”Makes no difference. You take it off or I'll make you look like two bits, Mex!”
On finding her order miscarried Jane demanded explanation.
”Tommy, he told me,” Two-Bits said, uneasily.
”But I ordered the sorrel--”
”And I told Two-Bits to give you this paint, ma'am,” Beck said, the foot of the colt still between his knees.
”And why?”--with a show of spirit.
”Because you ain't up to him yet and he ain't down to you. If somebody was with you, it'd be different. You can't ride him alone, ma'am.”
She gave her head an indignant toss and was about to demand the execution of her plan but he turned back to his work, talking gently to the animal. Then with a grudgingly resigned sigh she walked toward the pinto, for there was something about Beck that precluded argument.