CHAPTER VI
YOU'RE A BRUTE
Carolyn June went directly to her room when she reached the house. Shewished to investigate the feeling of looseness at her knee. The satinband that belonged there was gone. She felt her cheeks grow hot.Doubtless she had lost it at the corral--the Ramblin' Kid would pick itup! The thought tormented her. Once more she wanted to swear vigorouslyand with extreme earnestness. Instead she--laughed! It was all soabsurd. The strange interest this rough cowboy inspired in her; theconfusion she felt when he had spoken to her--no man among all theclever, carefully groomed, ultra-sophisticated suitors she had left inHartville ever stirred her emotions as had the Ramblin' Kid with a fewdrawling words and one long look from his black, inscrutable eyes. Thatlook! She had the feeling, someway, that her whole soul was naked beforeit. She was almost afraid of him. It was silly! She detestedhim--or--anyway, he needed punishment! No, he wasn't worth it! He wasonly an ignorant rider of the range--why trouble at all about him?
Quickly changing her dress for a riding suit of khaki--the skirtsensibly divided--and the morning slippers for stout, tan, laced boots,she stepped into the front room. Ophelia was in her own room dressing togo to town. Carolyn June heard voices in the kitchen. Sing Pete's shrillchatter mingled with an occasional slow word from the Ramblin' Kid.Thought of the garter she had lost flashed into her mind. Perhaps thecowboy had not found it. She would run out to the corral and see.Passing quickly out the front way Carolyn June hastened again toward thecircular corral. Old Heck and Parker were at the garage getting the carready for the drive to Eagle Butte; Pedro and Chuck were riding acrossthe valley toward the upper pasture. The other cowboys saddled theirhorses near the barn.
As she walked, Carolyn June scanned the ground. At the corral she lookedcarefully where she had been standing. Her search was fruitless. Shesmiled queerly. Again she glanced at the Gold Dust maverick.
"You darling," she whispered, "I am going to have you--I am--Iabsolutely am!"
Turning, her eyes rested on the saddle, chaps and riding gear lying inthe shed where the Ramblin' Kid had slept. Carolyn June stepped close tothe outfit.
"I have a notion to--to spit on you!" she said vehemently, "or kick--"but she didn't finish the sentence. One tan shoe had been drawn back asif to be swung viciously at the inoffensive pile of riding gear; itpaused, suspended, then gently, almost caressingly, pushed the leatherchaps which suddenly seemed to Carolyn June to look limp and worn andpathetically tired.
As Carolyn June returned to the house Parker drove the car around to thefront; Old Heck joined the cowboys, already mounting their bronchos, andwith them rode down the lane in the direction of the lower field. Skinnycame out of the barn, leading Pie Face and Old Blue. He left the horsesstanding and at the back-yard gate overtook Carolyn June. As theystepped inside the yard the Ramblin' Kid appeared at the kitchen door.
"There's the Ramblin' Kid now," Skinny said as they approached. "Hello,Kid," he continued, "I see you got the filly--Excuse me, I guess youfolks ain't acquainted."
Haltingly he introduced them.
Without the flicker of an eyelid the Ramblin' Kid looked into the eyesof Carolyn June. He had seen her coming from the corral and guessedcorrectly the reason for her second visit to the enclosure. Indeed atthat moment his hand was in his pocket toying with the delicate souvenirfor which she had gone to search. Yet his face was utterly withoutemotion as he lifted his hat and stood aside, acknowledging with formalwords the introduction. "It's sure a surprisin' day an' pleasant--" hefinished, emphasizing "surprisin'" and "pleasant" till Carolyn Junecould have sworn there was a veiled taunt in the words he spoke.
She was equally calm. Smiling sweetly and with not a hint of a previousmeeting she said: "I think I have heard of the Ramblin' Kid." Pausing amoment: "It's always peaceful after a storm!" she added enigmatically.And the Ramblin' Kid, as Skinny and the girl passed around to the frontof the house, knew that Carolyn June had hurled a lance!
"A natural born heart-breaker," he said to himself as he went toward thebunk-house, "a genuine, full-grown vampire, part intentional an' partbecause it's in her--but she's a pure-bred--" He grew pensive andsilent, a look of gentleness came to his face, followed quickly by anexpression of extreme humility. "Oh, hell," he exclaimed aloud, "what'sth' use!" Entering the building the Ramblin' Kid seated himself at thetable at the end of the room. He pulled the pink satin elastic from hispocket and gazed at it, rubbing the soft fabric tenderly with the end ofhis thumb. His eyes lighted suddenly with anger and contempt. He threwthe band violently across the room into a corner. "I wasn't raised toassociate with luxuries like that!" he exclaimed with mingled bitternessand scorn, "--a damned ign'rant cow-puncher dreamin' dreams about anangel!" he finished with a harsh laugh. For a while he sat silent,gazing down at the table. Then he got up, went over and lifted thegarter from where it had fallen and replaced it in his pocket. "Oh,well," he chuckled less bitterly and whimsically added, "--any idiot cansmile at th' mornin' star even if th' darned thing is beyond his reach!Besides, she don't need to ever know--" Leaving the bunk-house he wenttoward the circular corral.
Parker climbed from the car and entered the house, asking if Ophelia wasready.
"In just a moment!" the widow called from her room.
"What are you and me going to do?" Skinny asked Carolyn June as theystepped on to the porch, "take a ride?"
"On 'Old Blue'?" Carolyn June questioned scornfully, then, withresignation, as they went inside the house: "Oh, well--I suppose, aftera while. I have some letters to write now," and she entered her roomleaving Skinny standing perplexed by her varying moods. He lookedfoolishly at Parker a moment. Going to the graphophone he put on arecord--
"_I'm forever blowing bubbles, pretty bubbles in the air_!"
wailed disconsolately through the house.
"Good heavens," Carolyn June called, "do you blow bubbles this early inthe morning?"
"Don't you like it?" Skinny asked soberly. "I thought that was a prettygood tune."
"I'm crazy about it!" Carolyn June answered sarcastically. "There andthen, but not here and now--"
"Where and when?" Skinny queried innocently.
"In the valley of the moon at the end of a perfect day!" she laughedback. "--Forgive me, I couldn't help it!"
"What does she mean?" Skinny asked Parker in a whisper. "Is she makingfun of me?"
"No, you blamed fool," Parker replied, "she feels good and is justjoking--"
Skinny brightened up immediately.
"That's a good one," he called to Carolyn June with a snicker; "I neverthought of it before!"
A ripple of laughter came from Carolyn June's room.
"Really, I don't mind," she said; "play _Bubbles_ as much as you like--Ithink it's rather soothing, but truly I must write my letters now soOphelia can take them to town."
Half an hour later Ophelia appeared dressed for the drive to EagleButte. Carolyn June and Skinny went out on the front porch and watchedthe widow and Parker climb into the Clagstone "Six." As Parker startedthe engine Skinny suddenly called to him. Parker sat with his foot onthe clutch while Skinny hurried out to the car.
"What do you want?" he asked impatiently, "We've got to be going!"
"Lean over here," Skinny said, his face flushing scarlet, "I want totell you something."
"Well?"
"Stop at the Golden Rule and get me a white shirt size number fifteenand--a purple necktie if they've got any!" Skinny whispered.
Ophelia heard and choked back a laugh.
"Thunderation, he's plumb locoed!" Parker exclaimed, as he jammed theclutch into gear and the car sprang forward.
"Don't forget it, Parker," Skinny called earnestly, "I actually needit!"
Carolyn June and Skinny stood on the porch and watched the car climb thegrade and out on to the bench. The storm of the night before had washedthe earth clean and cooled the air. A faint after-breeze fanned thetree-tops. The Costejo peaks stood out, with stereoscopical clearness,against a cloudle
ss sky. The day was a challenge to one who loved theopen.
"You may saddle 'Old Blue,'" Carolyn June said to Skinny. "--I'll see ifI can 'stick on him' long enough to ride as far as the river!"
"He's already saddled," Skinny replied, "him and Old Pie Face both."
"Man, dear," she cried in mock misunderstanding, "you surely are notexpecting me to ride the two of them at once!"
"No," he answered meekly, "Old Pie Face is my horse, I'm going to ridehim and go with you."
"Indeed!" she exclaimed, then laughing mischievously. "Oh,certainly--that's a good one--I hadn't thought of it before!"
"Don't you want me to go?" Skinny asked doubtfully.
"Surely. I should be utterly unhappy if you didn't--I'll get my hat."
"Blamed if I can figure her out," Skinny said to himself as Carolyn Juneran lightly into the house. "She keeps a feller freezing to death andburning up all at once--sort of in heaven and hell both mixed together."
A white, medium-brimmed felt hat was set jauntily on the fluffy brownhair when she reappeared. Skinny's heart leaped hungrily. Carolyn Junewas a picture of perfect physical fitness. The cowboy silently wonderedhow long he could keep from making "a complete, triple-expansion, darnedfool of himself!"
"I'm glad you want me to go," he said, renewing the conversation as theystarted around the house, "because I wanted to and, well, anyhow it's myjob--"
"What do you mean 'your job'?" Carblyn June asked quickly.
Skinny was stricken silent. He realized he was on dangerous ground. Hewasn't sure it would be wise to tell her what he meant. Someway he feltCarolyn June would resent it if she knew he was drawing wages foracting the lover to her. It seemed wholly impossible for him, just atthat moment, to explain that, although Old Heck was paying him tendollars a month extra salary to court, temporarily, his attractiveniece, he, Skinny Rawlins, would personally be overjoyed to reverse theorder and give his entire income, adding a bonus as well, for theprivilege of continuing indefinitely and of his own choice the more thanpleasant employment. Yet this was the literal truth, so quickly had hissusceptible heart yielded to the charms of the girl. But he dared nottry to tell her. He knew the words would not come and if they did hewould probably choke on them and she, not believing the truth, woulddetest him. Skinny had heard of men who courted girls of wealth to wintheir money and with sincere contempt he despised these degenerates ofhis sex. Now, suddenly, he felt that he himself was in their class. Thethought made him sick, actually caused his stomach to quiver with a sortof nausea.
"Skinny Rawlins," Carolyn June said sternly, stopping and lookingstraight at the confused and mentally tortured cowboy, "tell me--anddon't lie--what you meant when you said to go with me was 'your job!'"
Skinny raised his eyes; in them was piteous appeal.
"I meant--I--" he hesitated.
"Tell me the truth," she ordered relentlessly, "or I'll--I'll--dosomething awful!"
"I meant it was my job--" suddenly inspired, he blurted out, "to rideOld Pie Face. He's--he's dangerous and has to be rode every so often tokeep him from getting worse and to-day's the day to ride him!"
"Skinny," Carolyn June spoke gently, "I feel sorry for you. I want tolike you and I'm disappointed. It breaks my heart to say it but you area liar--you're just a common double dashed liar--like Uncle Josiah waswhen he sent that telegram saying there was smallpox at the QuarterCircle KT--"
"Am I?" Skinny asked humbly.
"You are," she retorted impatiently, "and you know it--"
"Do I?" as if dazed.
"You do, and did all the time--"
"Did I?" he felt like a parrot.
"You did!" Carolyn June snapped. "Good heavens," she continued, "why domen think they have to lie to women? Common sense and experience oughtto teach them they can never fool them long--I hoped out here in the bigWest I would find one man who wouldn't lie--"
"Th' Ramblin' Kid won't," Skinny said as if suddenly struck by a brightthought, "--he wouldn't lie to you!"
Carolyn June laughed scornfully.
"Oh, yes he would," she declared, "all of them do--every last one ofthe poor frail"--contemptuously--"turtles!"
"But th' Ramblin' Kid wouldn't," Skinny persisted; "he won't lie toanybody."
"Not even to a woman?" she questioned incredulously.
"No," he answered positively, "I'm sure he wouldn't."
"And why wouldn't he?" she asked.
"Well," Skinny replied, "for one thing he don't give a darn. Th'Ramblin' Kid don't care what anybody, man, woman or anything else thinksabout him or whether they like what he says or not so there ain't anyuse of him lying. Maybe he wouldn't tell what was in his mind unless youasked him, but if you did ask him he'd say what it was whether hethought it satisfied you or not. He's funny that way. He just naturallydon't seem to be built for telling lies and he wouldn't do it--"
"Oh, Skinny, poor simple Skinny!" Carolyn June laughed. "You don't knowmen--men when they're dealing with women! Through all the unnamed yearsof my life I've never found one man who was absolutely truthful whentalking with a 'female.' They think they have to lie to women. They doit either to keep from hurting them--or else they do it intentionallyfor the purpose of hurting them, one or the other! And they are sostupid! No man can hide anything long from a woman--"
Reaching over she jerked a spray of tiny roses from the rambler at thewindow near which they were standing; tapping the blossoms against herlips, beginning to smile whimsically, she continued: "Why, I can almostread your own thoughts right now! If I wanted to I could tell you moreabout what is in your mind than you yourself could tell--"
"Could you?" Skinny said, a guilty look coming in his eyes.
"For one thing," Carolyn June went on, ignoring the inane question, "youare in love--"
"I ain't!" the over-hasty denial slipped from his lips unintentionally.
"Lie!" she laughed, "you can't help telling 'em, can you? And you arethinking--" She paused while her eyes rested demurely on the roses inher hand.
"What am I thinking?" Skinny asked breathlessly.
Before she could reply an agonized spitting, yowling and hissing,accompanied by the rattle of tin, came from behind the kitchen. "What'sthat?" Carolyn June cried half frightened at the instant a yellow housecat, his head fastened in an old tomato can, came bouncing backward,clawing and scratching, from around the corner.
"Gee whiz!" Skinny exclaimed, "it's that darned cat again--Sing Petegoes and dabs butter in the bottoms of the cans and the fool cat stickshis head in trying to lick it out and gets fastened. It looks like theblamed idiot would learn sometime. It's what I call a rotten jokeanyhow!"
Sing Pete appeared at the kitchen door cackling with fiendish joy at thesuccess of his ruse.
Carolyn June stared, apparently stricken dumb by the antics of thestruggling animal.
"Sun-fish! Go to it--you poor deluded son-of-sorrow!" The Ramblin' Kid,who, unnoticed by Carolyn June and Skinny, at that moment had come fromthe corral and stood leaning against the fence, chuckled half pityingly,yet making no move toward the creature.
"Catch him and take it off," Carolyn June cried, "it's hurting him!"
Skinny started toward the rapidly gyrating jumble of claws, can and cat.
"I will if the darn' thing'll hold still a minute!" he said.
Carolyn June looked at the Ramblin' Kid, still leaning against the fencewatching the cat's contortions.
"Why don't you help him?" she asked impatiently. "Skinny can't do italone--can't you see it's choking?"
"No, he's not choking," the Ramblin' Kid replied without moving fromwhere he stood, "--he's sufferin' some, but he ain't chokin'. He's gotquite a lot of wind yet an' is gettin' some valuable experience. Thatcat's what I call a genuine acrobat!" he mused as the terrifiedcreature leaped frantically in the air and somersaulted backward,striking and clawing desperately to free itself of the can tightlywedged on its head.
Carolyn June was accustomed to obedience from men creatures. TheRamblin' Ki
d's indifference to her request, together with his apparentcruelty in refusing to aid in relieving the cat from its torturingdilemma, angered and piqued the girl.
"Help Skinny take it off, I tell you!" she repeated, "haven't you aspark of sympathy--"
The Ramblin' Kid resented her tone and detected as well the note ofwounded pride. Instinctively he felt that at that instant the cat, withCarolyn June, had become a secondary consideration.
"Well, some, I reckon," he answered, speaking deliberately, "generally alittle, but right now darned little for that old yaller cat. I figurehe's a plumb free moral agent," he continued as if speaking to himself;"he got his head in that can on his own hook an' it's up to him to getit out or let it stay in _this time_, just as he pleases--"
"But Sing Pete put butter in the can!" Carolyn June said, arguing.
"He's done it before," the Ramblin' Kid answered with a glance at theChinese cook still gleefully enjoying the results of his cruel joke. "Hewon't no more. But that don't make no difference," he laughed, "th'darn' cat hadn't ought to have yielded to temptation!"
"You're a brute!" she exclaimed passionately, "--an ignorant, savage,stupid brute--" The harsh words sprang from the lips of Carolyn Junebefore she thought. The Ramblin' Kid flinched involuntarily as if he hadbeen struck full in the face. A look came in his eyes that almost madeher regret what she had said.
"I reckon I am," he replied, gazing steadily at her without feeling orresentment and speaking slowly, "yes, I'm an 'ign'rant, savage, stupidbrute,'" deliberately accenting each word as he repeated the stingingphrase, "--but--what's the use?" he finished with a mirthless laugh."Anyhow," he added, glancing again at the cat and Skinny's futileefforts to catch it, "I ain't interferin' this time, at least, with thatdamned cat!"
Carolyn June knew she had hurt with her unintentionally cruel words. Foran instant there was a humane impulse to temper their severity.
"I--I--didn't--" she started to say, but the Ramblin' Kid had turnedand, ignoring the cat, Skinny and herself, was leaning on the fence withhis back to her, looking off across the valley, apparently lost inthought. She did not finish the sentence.
The cat bucked its way to the fence. As it went under the wire the cancaught on a barb of the lower strand. Jerking furiously, the animalfreed itself from the can, leaving splotches of hair and hide on theragged edges of tin. Still spitting and clawing, with its tail standingout like an enormous yellow plume, it dashed toward the barn, eager toput distance between itself and the thing that had been torturing it.
"Gosh a'mighty," Skinny said, sweating with the exertion and theexcitement of trying to catch the cat, "it'll be noon before we getstarted for that ride!"
"We'll go now," Carolyn June answered, "--before some other horriblething occurs."
"We're going over to the river and maybe out on the sand-hills a ways,"Skinny casually remarked to the Ramblin' Kid as Carolyn June and hepassed through the gate. "Oh, yes," he added, "Chuck said tell you hetook your rope--there was a weak spot in his and he didn't get it fixedyesterday!"
The Ramblin' Kid did not answer.
Skinny had been wrong about the Ramblin' Kid not caring what any onethought of him. He was supersensitive of his roughness, his lack ofeducation and conscious crudeness, and the words of Carolyn June werestill in his mind. When Skinny and the girl were going toward theirhorses the Ramblin' Kid turned and entered the gate. Sing Pete was stillat the kitchen door.
The Ramblin' Kid stepped up to him.
"You damned yellow heathen," he said in a level voice, "if you ever playthat trick on that cat again th' Quarter Circle KT will be shy a cookan' your ghost'll be headin' pronto for China!"
Without waiting for a reply he went back to the gate and watched Skinnyand Carolyn June ride down the lane. The deftness and skill with whichthe girl handled the horse she rode forced a smile of admiration to thelips of the Ramblin' Kid. She sat close in the saddle and a glanceshowed she was a born master of horses. "She's a wonder," he said tohimself, "a teetotal wonder--" A shade of melancholy passed over hisface. "An ign'rant, savage, stupid brute!" he murmured bitterly, "well,I reckon she was right--Hell!" he exclaimed aloud, "I wonder ifSkinny'll remember about that upper crossin' bein' dang'rous withquicksand after the rain--Guess he did," he finished as the two ridersturned to the right toward the lower and more distant river ford anddisappeared among the willows and cottonwood trees that fringed theCimarron.
The Ramblin' Kid Page 6