Part 47 (1/2)
”I might compromise on stock,” he said. ”I could follow the same occupation as her father, and with better success. Neither he nor his men get the best results from horses. They don't understand them, especially the breeds they are attempting to handle. Most Arab hors.e.m.e.n are tent dwellers. They travel from one oasis to another with their stock. At night their herds are gathered around them as children. As children they love them, pet them, feed them. Each is named for a divinity, a planet or a famous ruler, and the understanding between master and beast is perfect. Honestly, Little Sister, I think you have got to believe in the G.o.d of Israel, in order to say the right word to an Arabian horse; and I know you must believe in the G.o.d of love. A beast of that breed, jerked, kicked, and scolded is a fine horse ruined. If I owned half the stock Mr. Pryor has over there, I could put it in such shape for market that I could get twice from it what his men will.”
”Are Thomas and James rough with the horses?”
”'Like master, like man,'” quoted Laddie. ”They are! They are foolish with the Kentucky strain, and fools with the Arab; and yet, that combination beats the world. But I must get on with the P.C. job.”
He slid from the fence, took a drink from his water jug, and pulled a handful of gra.s.s for each horse. As he stood feeding them, I almost fell from the top rail.
”Laddie!” I whispered. ”Look! Mr. Pryor is halfway across the field on Ranger.”
”So?” said Laddie. ”Now I wonder----”
”Shall I go?”
”No indeed!” said Laddie. ”Stay right where you are. It can't be anything of much importance.”
At first it didn't seem to be. They talked about the weather, the soil, the team. Laddie scooped a handful of black earth, and holding it out, told Mr. Pryor all about how good it was, and why, and he seemed interested. Then they talked about everything; until if he had been Jacob Hood, he would have gone away. But just at the time when I expected him to start, he looked at Laddie straight and hard.
”I missed you Sabbath evening,” he said.
Then I looked at him. He had changed, some way. He seemed more human, more like our folks, less cold and stern.
”I sincerely hope it was unanimous,” said Laddie.
Mr. Pryor had to laugh.
”It was a majority, at any rate.”
Laddie stared dazed. You see that was kind of a joke. An easy one, because I caught it; but we were not accustomed to expecting a jest from Mr. Pryor. Not one of us dreamed there was a joke between his hat crown and his boot soles. Then Laddie laughed; but he sobered quickly.
”I'm mighty sorry if Mrs. Pryor missed me,” he said. ”I thought of her. I have grown to be her devoted slave, and I hoped she liked me.”
”You put it mildly,” said Mr. Pryor. ”Since you didn't come when she expected you, we've had the worst time with her that we have had since we reached this da--ah--er--um--this country.”
”Could you make any suggestion?” asked Laddie.
”I could! I would suggest that you act like the sensible fellow I know you to be, and come as usual, at your accustomed times.”
”But I'm forbidden, man!” cried Laddie.
Ugh! Such awful things as Mr. Pryor said.
”Forbidden!” he cried. ”Is a man's roof his own, or is it not? While I live, I propose to be the head of my family. I invite you! I ask you! Mrs. Pryor and I want you! What more is necessary?”
”TWO things,” said Laddie, just as serenely. ”That Miss Pryor wants me, and that I want to come.”
”D'ye mean to tell me that you DON'T want to come, eh? After the fight you put up to force your way in!”
Laddie studied the sky, a whimsy smile on his lips.
”Now wasn't that a good fight?” he inquired. ”I'm mighty proud of it!
But not now, or ever, do I wish to enter your house again, if Miss Pryor doesn't want, and welcome me.”