CHAPTER IV
AT THE EATING HOUSE
Doubleday drove the two women down from the ranch. At the Junctionthere were, besides the railroad eating house, a few houses and a fewstores, and almost as many saloons as at Sleepy Cat itself--the placebeing, Belle said, a shipping point both for cattle and for miners.
Kate was relieved to find her father's cottage, on a hill across therailroad track, quite livable-looking. It was, like all the otherhouses, one story and square, being divided into kitchen, dining-roomand two bedrooms. The interior, its shiny furniture covered with dust,was dreary enough, but Kate knew she could make the place presentable,and after the first few days in her new surroundings, began to recoverher high spirits. Her father had not yet said she was to stay; but shethought he liked her--Belle told her as much--and she set about makingher woman's hand felt. Her father took his meals at the eating-house,and the cottage had been indifferently cared for by old Henry, theeating-house porter. Kate, as a housekeeper, was a marked improvement,one that even so absorbed a man as her father could not but notice.
She naturally spent much time at the eating-house herself, becauseBelle, her sole acquaintance at the Junction, was there.
"How you going to like it out here?" demanded Belle, scrutinizing Katecritically, after she had known her a few months.
"I love it," was the prompt answer.
Belle seemed dismayed: "How about the alkali?" she asked, as if toconvict Kate of deceit.
Kate only nodded: "It's all right."
"And the sagebrush?"
"I like it."
"And the greasewood?"
"Why not?"
Belle had begun to like Kate's laugh: "Not going to get lonesome out inthis country?" Belle flung at her, as a gloomy clincher.
"Lonesome!" At this idea Kate laughed outright. "Do I look it?" shecried.
"Guess you like to horseback pretty well," muttered Belle, castingabout for a solution of so surprising an attitude and unable to findany other fault with her protegee.
"I'd rather ride than eat," declared Kate, youthfully exuberant.
"What about swimming?" inquired Belle, determined to fasten discontenton her.
"I hate swimming."
"Well," grumbled her companion, defeated at every point, "Barb's gotplenty of horses." Kate did not like to hear her father called Barb,but Belle would not call him anything else.
Back of the cottage, Doubleday had a small barn, where Henry--anex-cowboy--looked after Doubleday's driving horses. And the very firstpledge from her father that she was to be tolerated in the strangehousehold she had invaded in this far-away country, came to Kate whenhe sent down for her use two saddle ponies. The fleeting suspicion ofloneliness that she would not confess even to herself, all vanishedwhen the ponies came: She could then ride to and from the ranch. Andwhen Henry failed to appear, Kate took care of her pets herself. Afterher father told her they were really hers, she would hardly let Henryhimself lay a hand on them.
When the evenings grew tedious she would go down for supper with Belleand sit with her in the small alcove off the office, where the twocould see and hear without being seen; and Belle's stories had no end.
The only feature of her situation that would not improve was herfather's aloofness. He seemed to try at times to thaw out but hepersistently congealed again. One evening he got in late from theranch, cold and wet, complaining of rheumatism. The driver went onwith the team to Sleepy Cat and Doubleday told Kate he would stay allnight. She had a good fire in the grate and made her father a toddy.
He sat with her before the fire late and talked for the first timeabout his affairs, which seemed mostly money troubles.
Next morning he could hardly get out of bed, but he was set on going tothe ranch and Kate helped him to dress and got him a good breakfast,with a cup of strong coffee. He softened enough to let her go up tothe ranch with him. She had already coaxed from him the furniture forthe spare room so she might spend the night there occasionally. VanHorn had promised to teach her sometime how to use a rifle and to takeher out after antelope and Kate was keen for going. The next day herfather brought her the rifle from Sleepy Cat.
They drove out in the evening, but the minute they reached theranch-house, Kate perceived something was up. Van Horn greeted herwith a good deal of freedom, Kate thought--but apologized for hurryingaway after she had shown him her new rifle--with the hint that they hadbigger game in sight just then, and after a long talk with her fatherand much preparation he and Stone rode off, two of the men from thebunk-house with them. Her father plainly let Kate see that he himselfhad no intention of entertaining her. He was outside most of the timeand Kelly, the cook, being the only man to talk to, Kate inself-defense went to bed.
During the night she was awakened by voices. Van Horn and Stone wereback and they were talking to her father in the living-room. Katethought at first some accident had happened. Van Horn, eager, pleasedand rapid in utterance, did much of the talking, Stone breaking in nowand again with a few words in harsh nasal tones--harsher tonight thanusual. Her father seemed only to ask a question once in a while. Katetried not to eavesdrop, but she could not occasionally help hearingwords about wire, which Van Horn was sure somebody would never find.The men had apparently been somewhere and done something. The clink ofglasses indicated drinking, and there was much cursing of something orsomebody. Then the talk got loud and her father hushed it up and theparty went to bed.
There seemed something furtive and secret about the incident that Katecould not fathom. Why should honest men get together in the dead ofnight to exult and curse and drink? She composed herself to sleepagain; these were simply things she did not understand. She thoughtshe did not want to understand them, but even after she got back to theJunction she wondered why her father should be mixed up in them.
Meantime she spent a week of delight at the ranch, mostly on horseback,learning the Western horse and Western riding.
After her outing, Doubleday took Kate down to the Junction. He went onto Sleepy Cat, but that night he came back ill. In the morning he wasnot able to get up.
Kate telephoned, as he directed, to Sleepy Cat, for Doctor Carpy.
The doctor, when he came, looked Kate over with interest. He was asmooth-faced, powerfully-built man, rough-looking and rough in speech,but he knew his business. It was an acute attack of rheumatism, hesaid, and he told Kate to keep her father in bed and to keep him quietand nurse him.
"He's so active," said Kate regretfully. "He seems to be on the go allthe time."
"Damn him!" exclaimed Carpy with blunt emphasis. "He's nervous all thetime--that's what's the matter. He's got too many irons in the fire."
Kate swallowed her astonishment at so extraordinary a medical outburst.She reminded herself she was really out West.
Belle, when Kate saw her the following morning at the eating-house,said much the same thing and added in her coldly philosophic way, "Ireckon the banks have got him. And say, Kate, here's a telegram justcome for your father."
Kate took the despatch up to the cottage. It was from Van Horn atMedicine Bend, and it so upset her father that she was sorry she hadhad to deliver it. After an interval, unpleasant both for the disabledman and his nurse, Kate ventured to ask whether there was not somethingshe could do. There was not. Litigation against him, long dormant--heexplained between twinges--had been revived, papers issued and a UnitedStates deputy marshal was on the way to serve him. "I thought," hegrowled, "the thing was dead. But nothing against me ever dies. Ifit'd gone past today it would 'a' been outlawed. You'll have to sendsome telegrams for me."
He gave her the substance of them and of a letter he wantedwritten--all of which she carefully took down. Then putting on herhat, she hastened to the eating-house to send the telegrams.
It was well past noon. At the lunch-counter desk Kate copied themessages on telegraph blanks, took them up to the operator and camedownstairs to write the letter for her father.
While she was doing this, the two o'clock Medicine Bend train pulledin. It was the big through train of the day, the train that Belle hadsaid must bring the dreaded summons server from Medicine Bend, if hecame that day at all. But Kate, absorbed in her letter writing, hadforgotten all about this unpleasantness when something--she was neverable to say just what--recalled her to herself. She became all at onceconscious that she was writing a letter, and at the same time consciousthat she was no longer alone in the little room.
Laramie Holds the Range Page 4