CHAPTER 6. ON THE SNOW-TRAIL
Aline had passed into the house, moved by an instinct which shrank frompublicity in the inevitable personal meeting between her and herhusband. Now, Harley, with the cavalier nod of dismissal, which only amultimillionaire can afford, followed her and closed the door. Apassionate rush of blood swept Ridgway's face. He saw red as he stoodthere with eyes burning into that door which had been shut in his face.The nails of his clenched fingers bit into his palms, and his musclesgathered themselves tensely. He had been cast aside, barred from thewoman he loved by this septuagenarian, as carelessly as if he had noclaim.
And it came home to him that now he had no claim, none before the lawand society. They had walked in Arcadia where shepherds pipe. They hadtaken life for granted as do the creatures of the woods, forgetful ofthe edicts of a world that had seemed far and remote. But that worldhad obtruded itself and shattered their dream. In the person of SimonHarley it had shut the door which was to separate him and her. Hithertohe had taken from life what he had wanted, but already he was grapplingwith the blind fear of a fate for once too strong for him.
"Well, I'm damned if it isn't Waring Ridgway," called a mellow voicefrom across the gulch.
The man named turned, and gradually the set lines of his jaw relaxed.
"I didn't notice it was you, Sam. Better bring the horses across thisside of that fringe of aspens."
The dismounted horseman followed directions and brought the flounderinghorses through, and after leaving them in the cleared place whereRidgway had cut his firewood he strolled leisurely forward to meet themine-owner. He was a youngish man, broad of shoulder and slender ofwaist, a trifle bowed in the legs from much riding, but with an elasticsufficiency that promised him the man for an emergency, a pledge whichhis steady steel-blue eyes, with the humorous lines about the corners,served to make more valuable. His apparel suggested the carelessefficiency of the cow-man, from the high-heeled boots into which werethrust his corduroys to the broad-brimmed white Stetson set on hissunreddened wavy hair. A man's man, one would vote him at first sight,and subsequent impressions would not contradict the first.
"Didn't know you were down in this neck of woods, Waring," he saidpleasantly, as they shook hands.
An onlooker might have noticed that both of them gripped hands heartilyand looked each other squarely in the eye.
"I came down on business and got caught in the blizzard on my way back.Came on her freezing in the machine and brought her here along with me.I had my eye on that slide. The snow up there didn't look good to me,and the grub was about out, anyhow, so I was heading for the C B Ranchwhen I sighted you."
"Golden luck for her. I knew it was a chance in a million that she wasstill alive, but Harley wanted to take it. Say, that old fellow's madeof steel wire. Two of my boys are plugging along a mile or two behindus, but he stayed right with the game to a finish--and himseventy-three, mind you, and a New Yorker at that. The old boy rideslike he was born in a saddle," said Sam Yesler with enthusiasm.
"I never said he was a quitter," conceded Ridgway ungraciously.
"You're right he ain't. And say, but he's fond of his wife. Soon as hestruck the ranch the old man butted out again into the blizzard to gether--slipped out before we knew it. The boys rounded him up wanderinground the big pasture, and none too soon neither. All the time we hadto keep herd on him to keep him from taking another whirl at it. He waslike a crazy man to tackle it, though he must a-known it was suicide.Funny how a man takes a shine to a woman and thinks the sun rises andsets by her. Far, as I have been able to make out women are much of asameness, though I ain't setting up for a judge. Like as not this womandon't care a hand's turn for him."
"Why should she? He bought her with his millions, I suppose. What righthas an old man like that with one foot in the grave to pick out a childand marry her? I tell you, Sam, there's something ghastly about it."
"Oh, well, I reckon when she sold herself she knew what she wasgetting. It's about an even thing--six of one and half a dozen of theother. There must be something rotten about a woman who will do a thingof that sort."
"Wait till you've seen her before passing judgment. And after you haveyou'll apologize if you're a white man for thinking such a thing abouther," the miner said hotly.
Yesler looked at his friend in amiable surprise. "I don't reckon weneed to quarrel about Simon Harley's matrimonial affairs, do we?" helaughed.
"Not unless you want to say any harm of that lamb."
A glitter of mischief gleamed from the cattleman's eyes. "MeaningHarley, Waring?"
"You know who I mean. I tell you she's an angel from heaven, pure asthe driven snow."
"And I tell you that I'll take your word for it without quarreling withyou," was the goodhumored retort. "What's up, anyhow? I never saw youso touchy before. You're a regular pepper-box."
The rescuers had brought food with them, and the party ate lunch beforestarting back. The cow-punchers of the C B had now joined them, both ofthem, as well as their horses, very tired with the heavy travel.
"This here Marathon race business through three-foot snow ain't forinvalids like me and Husky," one of them said cheerfully, with hismouth full of sandwich. "We're also rans, and don't even show forplace."
Yet though two of them had, temporarily at least, been rescued fromimminent danger, and success beyond their expectations had met theothers, it was a silent party. A blanket of depression seemed to restupon it, which the good stories of Yesler and the genial nonsense ofhis man, Chinn, were unable to lift. Three of them, at least, werebrooding over what the morning had brought forth, and trying to realizewhat it might mean for them.
"We'd best be going, I expect," said Yesler at last. "We've got a rightheavy bit of work cut out for us, and the horses are through feeding.We can't get started any too soon for me."
Ridgway nodded silently. He knew that the stockman was dubious, as hehimself was, about being able to make the return trip in safety. Thehorses were tired; so, too, were the men who had broken the heavy trailfor so many miles, with the exception of Sam himself, who seemed builtof whipcord and elastic. They would be greatly encumbered by the woman,for she would certainly give out during the journey. The one point intheir favor was that they could follow a trail which had already beentrodden down.
Simon Harley helped his wife into the boy's saddle on the back of theanimal they had led, but his inexperience had to give way to Yesler'sskill in fitting the stirrups to the proper length for her feet. ToRidgway, who had held himself aloof during this preparation, thestockman now turned with a wave of his hand toward his horse.
"You ride, Waring."
"No, I'm fresh."
"All right. We'll take turns."
Ridgway led the party across the gulch, following the trail that hadbeen swept by the slide. The cowboys followed him, next came Harley,his wife, and in the rear the cattleman. They descended the draw, andpresently dipped over rolling ground to the plain beyond. Theprocession plowed steadily forward mile after mile, the pomesfloundering through drifts after the man ahead.
Chinn, who had watched him breasting the soft heavy blanket that lay onthe ground so deep and hemmed them in, turned to his companion.
"On the way coming I told you, Husky, we had the best man in Montana atour head. We got that beat now to a fare-you-well. We got the two bestin this party, by crickey."
"He's got the guts, all right, but there ain't nothing on two legs cankeep it up much longer," replied the other. "If you want to know, I'mabout all in myself."
"Here, too," grunted the other. "And so's the bronc."
It was not, however, until dusk was beginning to fall that the leaderstopped. Yesler's voice brought him up short in his tracks.
"Hold on, Waring. The lady's down."
Ridgway strode back past the exhausted cowboys and Harley, the latterso beaten with fatigue that he could scarce cling to the pommel of hissaddle.
"I saw it coming. She's been done for a long time, but she hu
ng on likea thoroughbred," explained Yesler from the snow-bank where Aline hadfallen.
He had her in his arms and was trying to get at a flask of whisky inhis hip-pocket.
"All right. I'll take care of her, Sam. You go ahead with your horseand break trail. I don't like the way this wind is rising. It's wipingout the path you made when you broke through. How far's the ranch now?"
"Close to five miles."
Both men had lowered their voices almost to a whisper.
"It's going to be a near thing, Sam. Your men are played out. Harleywill never make it without help. From now on every mile will be worsethan the last."
Yesler nodded quietly. "Some one has got to go ahead for help. That'sthe only way."
"It will have to be you, of course. You know the road best and can getback quickest. Better take her pony. It's the fittest."
The owner of the C B hesitated an instant before he answered. He wasthe last man in the world to desert a comrade that was down, but hiscommon sense told him his friend had spoken wisely. The only chance forthe party was to get help to it from the ranch.
"All right. If anybody plays out beside her try to keep him going. Ifit comes to a showdown leave him for me to pick up. Don't let him stopthe whole outfit."
"Sure. Better leave me that bottle of whisky. So-long."
"You're going to ride, I reckon?"
"Yes. I'll have to."
"Get up on my horse and I'll give her to you. That's right Well, I'llsee you later."
And with that the stockman was gone. For long they could see him,plunging slowly forward through the drifts, getting always smaller andsmaller, till distance and the growing darkness swallowed him.
Presently the girl in Ridgway's arms opened her eyes.
"I heard what you and he said," she told him quietly.
"About what?" he smiled down into the white face that looked up intohis.
"You know. About our danger. I'm not afraid, not the least little bit."
"You needn't be. We're coming through, all right. Sam will make it tothe ranch. He's a man in a million."
"I don't mean that. I'm not afraid, anyway, whether we do or not."
"Why?" he asked, his heart beating wildly.
"I don't know, but I'm not," she murmured with drowsy content.
But he knew if she did not. Her fear had passed because he was there,holding her in his arms, fighting to the last ounce of power in him forher life. She felt he would never leave her, and that, if it came tothe worst, she would pass from life with him close to her. Again heknew that wild exultant beat of blood no woman before this one had everstirred in him.
Harley was the first to give up. He lurched forward and slipped fromthe saddle to the snow, and could not be cursed into rising. The manbehind dismounted, put down his burden, and dragged the old man to hisfeet.
"Here! This won't do. You've got to stick it out."
"I can't. I've reached my limit." Then testily: "'Are not my days few?Cease then, and let me alone,'" he added wearily, with his everreadytag of Scripture.
The instant the other's hold on him relaxed the old man sank back.Ridgway dragged him up and cuffed him like a troublesome child. He knewthis was no time for reasoning.
"Are you going to lie down and quit, you old loafer? I tell you theranch is only a mile or two. Here, get into the saddle."
By sheer strength the younger man hoisted him into the seat. He wasvery tired himself, but the vital sap of youth in him still ran strongin his blood. For a few yards farther they pushed on before Harley sliddown again and his horse stopped.
Ridgway passed him by, guiding his bronco in a half-circle through thesnow.
"I'll send back help for you," he promised.
"It will be too late, but save her--save her," the old man begged.
"I will," called back the other between set teeth.
Chinn was the next to drop out, and after him the one he called Husky.Both their horses had been abandoned a mile or two back, too exhaustedto continue. Each of them Ridgway urged to stick to the trail and comeon as fast as they could.
He knew the horse he was riding could not much longer keep going withthe double weight, and when at length its strength gave out completelyhe went on afoot, carrying her in his arms as on that eventful nightwhen he had saved her from the blizzard.
It was so the rescue-party found him, still staggering forward with herlike a man in a sleep, flesh and blood and muscles all protestantagainst the cruelty of his indomitable will that urged them on in spiteof themselves. In a dream he heard Yesler's cheery voice, gave up hisburden to one of the rescuers, and found himself being lifted to afresh horse. From this dream he awakened to find himself before thegreat fire of the living-room of the ranch-house, wakened from it onlylong enough to know that somebody was undressing him and helping himinto bed.
Nature, with her instinct for renewing life, saw to it that Ridgwayslept round the clock. He arose fit for anything. His body, hard asnails, suffered no reaction from the terrific strain he had put uponit, and he went down to his breakfast with an appetite ravenous forwhatever good things Yesler's Chinese cook might have prepared for him.
He found his host already at work on a juicy steak.
"Mornin'," nodded that gentleman. "Hope you feel as good as you look."
"I'm all right, barring a little stiffness in my muscles. I'll feelgood as the wheat when I've got outside of the twin steak to that oneyou have."
Yesler touched a bell, whereupon a soft-footed Oriental appeared,turned almond eyes on his proprietor, took orders and padded silentlyback to his kingdom--the kitchen. Almost immediately he reappeared witha bowl of oatmeal and a pitcher of cream.
"Go to it, Waring."
His host waved him the freedom of the diningroom, and Ridgway fell to.Never before had food tasted so good. He had been too sleepy to eatlast night, but now he made amends. The steak, the muffins, the coffee,were all beyond praise, and when he came to the buckwheat hot cakes,sandwiched with butter and drenched with real maple syrup, hissatisfied soul rose up and called Hop Lee blessed. When he hadfinished, Sam capped the climax by shoving toward him his case ofHavanas.
Ridgway's eyes glistened. "I haven't smoked for days," he explained,and after the smoke had begun to rise, he added: "Ask what you will,even to the half of my kingdom, it's yours."
"Or half of the Consolidated's," amended his friend with twinkling eyes.
"Even so, Sam," returned the other equably. "And now, tell me how youmanaged to round us all up safely."
"You've heard, then, that we got the whole party in time?"
"Yes, I've been talking with one of your enthusiastic riders that wentout with you after us. He's been flimflammed into believing you thegreatest man in the United States. Tell me how you do it."
"Nick's a good boy, but I reckon he didn't tell you quite all that."
"Didn't he? You should have heard him reel off your praises by theyard. I got the whole story of how you headed the relief-party afteryou had reached the ranch more dead than alive."
"Then, if you've got it, I don't need to tell you. I WAS a bit worriedabout the old man. He was pretty far gone when we reached him, but hepulled through all right. He's still sleeping like a top."
"Is he?" His guest's hard gaze came round to meet his. "And the lady?Do you know how she stood it?"
"My sister says she was pretty badly played out, but all she needs isrest. Nell put her in her own bed, and she, too, has been doing nothingbut sleep."
Ridgway smoked out his cigar in silence then tossed it into thefireplace as he rose briskly.
"I want to talk to Mesa over the phone, Sam."
"Can't do it. The wires are down. This storm played the deuce withthem."
"The devil! I'll have to get through myself then."
"Forget business for a day or two, Waring, and take it easy up here,"counseled his host.
"Can't do it. I have to make arrangements to welcome Simon Harley toMesa. The truth is, Sam, that there
are several things that won't wait.I've got to frame them up my way. Can you get me through to therailroad in time to catch the Limited?"
"I think so. The road has been traveled for two or three days. If youreally must go. I hate to have you streak off like this."
"I'd like to stay, Sam, but I can't. For one thing, there's thatsenatorial fight coming on. Now that Harley's on the ground in person,I'll have to look after my fences pretty close. He's a good fighter,and he'll be out to win."
"After what you've done for him. Don't you think that will make adifference, Waring?"
His friend laughed without mirth. "What have I done for him? I left himin the snow to die, and while a good many thousand other people wouldbless me for it, probably he has a different point of view."
"I was thinking of what you did for his wife."
"You've said it exactly. I did it for her, not for him. I'll acceptnothing from Harley on that account. He is outside of the friendshipbetween her and me, and he can't jimmy his way in."
Yesler shrugged his shoulders. "All right. I'll order a rig hitched foryou and drive you over myself. I want to talk over this senatorialfight anyhow. The way things look now it's going to be the rottenestsession of the legislature we've ever had. Sometimes I'm sick of beingmixed up in the thing, but I got myself elected to help straighten outthings, and I'm certainly going to try."
"That's right, Sam. With a few good fighters like you we can win out.Anything to beat the Consolidated."
"Anything to keep our politics decent," corrected the other. "I've gotnothing against the Consolidated, but I won't lie down and let it orany other private concern hog-tie this State--not if I can help it,anyhow."
Behind wary eyes Ridgway studied him. He was wondering how far this manwould go as his tool. Sam Yesler held a unique position in the State.His influence was commanding among the sturdy old-time populationrepresented by the non-mining interests of the smaller towns and openplains. He must be won at all hazards to lend it in the impending fightagainst Harley. The mine-owner knew that no thought of personal gainwould move him. He must be made to feel that it was for the good of theState that the Consolidated be routed. Ridgway resolved to make him seeit that way.
Ridgway of Montana (Story of To-Day, in Which the Hero Is Also the Villain) Page 6