Frances of the Ranges; Or, The Old Ranchman's Treasure

by Amy Bell Marlowe

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE CONTRAST

  "Frances!"

  Pratt Sanderson fairly shrieked the ranch girl's name. He could donothing to save Sue Latrop himself, nor could the other visitors fromAmarillo. Silent Sam and his men were too far away.

  If with anybody, it lay with Frances Rugley to save the Boston girl.Frances already had her rope circling her head and Molly was coming onthe jump!

  The wicked little black steer was almost upon the gangling Eastern horseere Frances stretched forward and let the loop go.

  Then she pulled back on Molly's bridle reins. The cow-pony began toslide, haunches down and forelegs stiffened. The loop dropped over thehead of the black steer.

  Had Blackwater been a heavier animal, he would have overborne Francesand her mount at the moment the rope became taut. For it was not a goodjob at all--that particular roping Frances was afterward ashamed of.

  To catch a big steer in full flight around the neck only is to courtalmost certain disaster; but Blackwater did not weigh more than ninehundred pounds.

  Nor was Molly directly behind him when Frances threw the lariat. Therope tautened from the side--and at the very instant the mad steercollided with Sue Latrop's mount.

  The wicked head of the steer banged against the horse's body, which gaveforth a hollow sound; the horse himself squealed, stumbled, and wentover with a crash.

  Fortunately Sue had known enough to loosen her foot from the stirrup. AsFrances lay back in her own saddle, and she and Molly held the blacksteer on his knees, Pratt drove his mount past the stumbling horse, andseized the Boston girl as she fell.

  She cleared her rolling mount with Pratt's help. Otherwise she wouldhave fallen under the heavy carcase of the horse and been seriouslyhurt.

  Blackwater had crashed to the ground so hard that he could notimmediately recover his footing. He kicked with a hind foot, and Francescaught the foot expertly in a loop, and so got the better of him rightthen and there. She held the brute helpless until Sam and his assistantsreached the spot.

  It was Pratt who had really done the spectacular thing. It looked asthough Sue Latrop owed her salvation to the young man.

  "Hurrah for Pratt!" yelled one of the other young fellows from the city,and most of the guests--both male and female--took up the cry. Pratt hadtumbled off his own grey pony with Sue in his arms.

  "You're re'lly a hero, Pratt! What a fine thing to do," the girl fromBoston gasped. "Fancy my being under that poor horse."

  The horse in question was struggling to his feet, practically unhurt,but undoubtedly in a chastened spirit. One of the boys from the brandingpen caught his bridle.

  Pratt objected to the praise being showered upon him. "Why, folks, Ididn't do much," he cried. "It was Frances. She stopped the steer!"

  "You saved my life, Pratt Sanderson," declared Sue Latrop. "Don't denyit."

  "Lots of good I could have done if that black beast had been able tokeep right on after your horse, Sue," laughed Pratt. "You ask Mr. SamHarding--or any of them."

  Sue's pretty face was marred by a frown, and she tossed her head. "Idon't need to ask them. Didn't you catch me as I fell?"

  "Oh, but, Sue----"

  "Of course," said the Boston girl, in a tone quite loud enough forFrances to hear, "those cowmen would back up their employer. They'd sayshe helped me. But I know whom to thank. You are too modest, Pratt."

  Pratt was silenced. He saw that it was useless to try to convince Suethat she was wrong. It was plain that the girl from Boston did not wishto feel beholden to Frances Rugley.

  So the young man dropped the subject. He ran after his own pony, andthen brought Sue's stubborn mount to her hand. Sue was beingcongratulated and made much of by her friends. None of them spoke toFrances.

  Pratt came over to the latter before she could ride away after thebawling steer. Blackwater was going to be branded this time if it tookthe whole force of the Bar-T to accomplish it!

  "Thank you, Frances, for what you did," the young man said, grasping herhand. "And Bill will thank you, too. He'll know that it was your workthat saved her; Mrs. Edwards isn't used to cattle and isn't to beblamed. I feel foolish to have them put it on me."

  Frances laughed. She would not show Pratt that this whole series ofincidents had hurt her deeply.

  "Don't make a mountain out of a mole-hill, Pratt," she said. "And youdid do a brave thing. That girl would have been hurt if you had notcaught her."

  "Oh, I don't know," he grumbled.

  "I reckon she thinks so, anyway," said Frances, her eyes twinkling. "Howdoes it feel to be a hero, Pratt?"

  Pratt blushed and turned away. "I don't want to wear any laurels thatare not honestly my own," he muttered.

  "But you don't object to Miss Boston's expression of gratitude, Pratt?"teased Frances.

  He made a little face at her as he went back to the ranchman's wife andher guests; without another word Frances spurred Molly in the otherdirection, and before Mrs. Bill Edwards could speak to her the girl ofthe ranges was far away.

  She headed for the West Run, where a large herd of the Bar-T cattlegrazed. Nor did she look back again to see what became of the group ofriders who were with Mrs. Edwards and Pratt.

  Frances had no heart for such company just then. Sue Latrop's manner hadreally hurt the Western girl. Perhaps Frances was easily wounded; butSue had plainly revealed her opinion of the ranchman's daughter.

  The contrast between them cut Frances to the quick. She keenly realizedhow she, herself, must appear in the company of the pretty Eastern girl.

  "Of course, Pratt, and Mrs. Edwards, and all of them, must see howsuperior she is to me," Frances thought, as Molly galloped away withher. "But just the same, I don't like that Sue Latrop a bit!"