CHAPTER V
THE FIRST LESSON
Shortly after daybreak the following morning Calumet turned over on hisback, stretched lazily and opened his eyes. When a recollection of theevents of the previous night forced themselves into his consciousnesshe scowled and sat erect, listening. From beyond the closeddining-room door came sundry sounds which told him that the Claytonswere already astir. He heard the rattle of dishes, and the appetizingaroma of fried bacon filtered through the crevices in the battered doorand assailed his nostrils.
He scowled again as he rose and stood looking down at his saddle. Whenbeginning his homeward journey he had supplied himself with sodabiscuit and jerked beef, but he had consumed the last of his food atnoon the day before and the scent of the frying bacon aroused him tothe realization that he was ravenously hungry. As he meditated uponthe situation the scowl on his face changed to an appreciative grin.Now that he had decided to stay here he did not purpose to go hungrywhen there was food around.
Shouldering his saddle he left the office and proceeded to the stable,in which he had placed his pony the night before. He fed the animalfrom a pitiful supply of grain in a bin, and after slamming the door ofthe stable viciously, sneering at it as it resisted, he stalked to theranchhouse.
There was a tin basin on a bench just outside the kitchen door. Hepoured it half full of water from a pail that sat on the porch floor,and washed his hands and face, noting, while engaged in his task, aclean towel hanging from a roller on the wall of the ranchhouse. Whiledrying his face he heard voices from within, subdued, anxious.Completing his ablutions he stepped to the screen door, threw it openand stood on the threshold.
In the center of the kitchen stood a table covered with a white clothon which were dishes filled with food from which arose promising odors.Beside a window in the opposite wall of the kitchen stood MalcolmClayton. He was facing Calumet, and apparently had recovered from theencounter of the night before. But when he looked at Calumet hecringed as though in fear. Betty stood beside the table, facingCalumet also. But there was no fear in her attitude. She was erect,her hands resting on her hips, and when Calumet hesitated on thethreshold she looked at him with a scornful half smile. Yielding tothe satanic humor which had received its birth the night before when hehad made his decision to remain at the Lazy Y, he returned Betty'ssmile with a derisive grin, walked to the table, pulled out a chair,and seated himself.
It was a deliberate and premeditated infringement of the proprieties,and Calumet anticipated a storm of protest from Betty. But when helooked brazenly at her he saw her regarding him with a direct,disdainful gaze. He understood. She was surprised and indignant overthe action, possibly shocked over his cool assumption, but she was notgoing to lose her composure.
"Well," he said, keenly enjoying the situation and determined totorment her further, "set down. I reckon we'll grub."
"Thank you," she mocked, with quick sarcasm; "I was wondering whetheryou would ask us. Grandpa," she added, turning to Malcolm, "won't youjoin us? Mr. Marston has been so polite and thoughtful that wecertainly ought not to refuse his invitation."
She drew out a chair for Malcolm and stood beside it while he shuffledforward and hesitatingly slipped into it, watching Calumet furtively.Then she moved quietly and gracefully to another chair, directlyopposite Calumet.
Her sarcasm had no perceptible effect on Calumet. Inwardly he wasintensely satisfied. His action in seating himself at the tablewithout invitation angered Betty, as he had intended it should.
"Some shocked, eh?" he said, helping himself to some bacon and friedpotatoes, and passing them to her when he had finished with them.
"Shocked?" she returned calmly, unconcernedly supplying herself withfood from the dishes she had taken from him, "Oh, my, no. You see,from what your father told me about you, I rather expected you to be abrute."
"Aw, Betty," came Malcolm's voice, raised in mild remonstrance; "youhadn't ought to--"
"If you please, grandpa," Betty interrupted him, and he subsided andglanced anxiously at Calumet, into whose face had come a dash of darkcolor. He swallowed a mouthful of bacon before he answered Betty.
"Then you ain't disappointed," he sneered.
She rested her hands on the table beside her plate, the knife and forkpoised, and regarded him with a frank gaze.
"No, I am not disappointed. You quite meet my expectations. In fact,"she went on, "I thought you would be much worse than you are. So far,if we except your attack on grandfather, you haven't exhibited anyvicious traits. You are vain, though, and conceited, and like to bullypeople. But those are faults that can be corrected."
Calumet had to look twice at her before he could be certain that shewas not mocking him.
"I reckon you're goin' to correct them?" he said, then.
She took a sip of coffee and placed the cup delicately down before sheanswered.
"Of course--if you are to stay here."
"How?" His lips were in an incredulous sneer.
"By showing you that you can't be conceited around me, and that youcan't bully me. I suppose," she went on, leaning her elbows on thetable and supporting her chin with her hands while she looked straightat him, "that when you came in here and took a seat without beinginvited, you imagined you were impressing some one with yourimportance. But you were not; you were merely acting the part of avulgar boor. Or perhaps you had a vague idea that you were going to doas you please."
He placed his knife and fork down and looked at her. Her manner wasirritating; her quiet, direct glances disconcerted him. He could notfail to see that he had signally failed in his effort to disturb her.In fact, it became very plain to him as he watched her that she wasserenely conscious of her power over him, as a teacher is conscious ofher authority over an unruly pupil, and that, like a teacher, she wasquietly determined to be the victor.
The thought angered Calumet. There was in his mind a desire to humbleher, to crush her, to break her spirit, to drag her down to his ownlevel where he could fight her with his own weapons. He wanted tohumiliate her, wanted to gloat over her, wanted above all to have heracknowledge his superiority, his authority, over her. Had he been ableto do this at their first meeting he would have been satisfied; if hewere able to do it now he would be pleased.
"It's none of your business what I thought," he said, leaning over thetable and leering at her. "I'm goin' to run things to suit myself, an'if you an' your grandpap an' your brother don't like my style you canpull your freight, pronto. I'm goin' to boss this ranch. Do you getme?"
She seemed amused. "The Lazy Y," she said slowly, her eyes gleaming,"has need of something besides a boss. You have observed, I suppose,that it is slightly run down. Your father purposely neglected it.Considerable money and work will be required to place it in conditionwhere it can be bossed at all. I haven't any doubt," she added,surveying him critically, "that you will be able to supply thenecessary labor. But what about the money? Are you well supplied withthat?"
"Meaning to hint about the money the old man left, I reckon?"
"Of course. Understand that I have control of that, and you won't geta cent unless in my opinion you deserve it."
He glared savagely at her.
"Of course," she went on calmly, though there was triumph in her voice,"you can force us to leave the ranch. But I suspect that you won't tryto do that, because if you did you would never get the money. I shouldgo directly over to Las Vegas and petition to have your claim annulled.Then at the end of the year the money would be mine."
He stiffened with impotent rage as he took up his knife and fork againand resumed eating. He was disagreeably conscious that she held theadvantage, for assuredly he had no intention of driving her from theranch or of leaving it himself until he got his hands on the money.Besides, he thought he saw back of her unconcern over his probablecourse of action a secret desire for him to leave or to drive her away,and in the perversity of his heart he decided that both must stay.Something
might occur to reveal the whereabouts of the money, or hecould watch her, reasonably certain that one day her woman's curiositywould lead her to its hiding place. Plainly, in any event, he mustbide his time. Though his decision to defer action was taken, hisresentment did not abate; he could not conquer the deep rage in hisheart against her because of her interference in his affairs, and whenhe suddenly looked up to see her watching him with a calm smile he madea grimace of hatred at her.
"I'll make you show your hand, you sufferin' fool!" he said. "If youwas a man I'd make you tell me right now where that corn is, or I'dguzzle you till your tongue stuck out a yard. As it is, I reckon I'vegot to wait until you get damn good an' ready; got to wait until ameasly, sneakin' woman--"
Her laugh interrupted him--low, disdainful, mocking.
"I think I know what you are going to say. You are going to tell mehow I wormed my way into the good graces of your father and coaxed himto make me his beneficiary. It is your intention to be mean, to insultme, to try to bully me." Her eyes flashed as she leaned a littletoward him. "Understand," she said; "your bluster won't have theslightest effect on me. I am not afraid of you. So swear and curse toyour heart's content. As for bossing the ranch," she went on, hervoice suddenly one of cold mockery, "what is there to boss? Somedilapidated buildings! Of course you may boss those, because theycan't object. But you can't boss me, nor grandfather, nor Bob--becausewe won't let you!"
She walked away from the table and went to a door that led to anotherroom, standing in the opening and looking back at Calumet, who stillsat at the table, speechless with surprise.
"Go out and begin your bossing!" she jeered. "Very likely thebuildings will begin to dance around at your bidding. With youradmirable persuasive powers you ought to be able to do wonders withthem in the matter of repairs. Try it, at least. But if they refuseto be repaired at your mere word, and you think something moresubstantial is needed, then come to me--perhaps I may help you."
She bowed mockingly and vanished into the other room, closing the doorbehind her, leaving Calumet glaring into his plate.
For a moment there was a painful silence, which Malcolm broke byclearing his throat, his gaze on the tablecloth.
"Sometimes I think Betty's a little fresh," he said, apologetically."She's sorta sudden-like. She hadn't ought to--"
He looked up to see a malevolent scowl on Calumet's face, and he duckedby the narrowest of margins the heavy plate that flew from Calumet'shand. The plate struck the wall and was shattered to atoms. Malcolmcrouched, in deadly fear of other missiles, but Calumet did not deignto notice him further, stalking out of the room and slamming the doorbehind him.
The Boss of the Lazy Y Page 5