CHAPTER VII
THE FRENCHES AGAIN
That spring Angus kept three teams going steadily on plows and diskswhile the high winds dried the soil to a powder, raising dust cloudsthat choked and blinded, so that they came in black and gritty to ashower bath of Angus' invention. He had accomplished this by a primitivewater wheel operated by the swift water of the irrigation ditch back ofthe house. The water was always cold, and invigorated accordingly. Butit was icy in the morning. Rennie tried it once and gave it up, whilebig Gus scornfully refused to experiment with a morning bath.
"It'll brace you up," Turkey urged.
"Vatter ent brace nobody," Gus replied with contempt. "Dees all-overvash by mornin' ban no good. Ay ent need him. It ent make me dirty tosleep."
But the dust vanished with the spring rains, and the grain sprouted inthe drills. One day the fields lay bare and bald and blank; and thenext, as it seemed, they were covered with a film of tender green. Thenall hands began to clear and repair the irrigation ditches, so that whendry weather came the fields should have water in plenty.
So the early summer came and with it Jean's holidays. Her return, Angusrecognized, necessitated some preparation.
"She'll have a fit when she sees the house," he told Turkey.
"What's the matter with it?" that young man asked.
"She'll find plenty the matter with it," Angus predicted apprehensively."We'd better clean up a little."
"Well, maybe we had," Turkey admitted.
They gave the house what they considered a thorough cleaning, whichconsisted in sweeping where it seemed necessary, and removing some ofthe pot-black from kitchen utensils which Jean had never set down on thefire. Angus eyed the rusty-red kitchen range, which Jean had kept blackand shining.
"I wonder if we hadn't better give that a touch of polish," he said."Where is the polish, anyway?"
"Search me," Turkey replied. "I've never seen any. What's the use? Itcooks all right."
They could not find Jean's polish, and experimented with black harnessdressing. But the smoke when the fire was lit drove them out of thehouse, and they let it go.
Angus drove into town to meet Jean behind a pair of slashing,upstanding, bright-bay three-year-olds, of which he was very proud. Jeanhad never seen them in harness--indeed they had been harnessed less thana dozen times--and he anticipated her pleasure in them, for she lovedhorses. He put up and fed the colts at the livery stable, had hisdinner, made some purchases, and as it was nearly time for the riversteamer on which Jean would arrive, turned toward the stable to hitchup.
As he turned a corner he met Garland, Blake French, and several otheryoung men. Apparently they were out on a time, for none of them wereentirely steady upon their legs. Blake French, however, was much theworst.
In the years that had passed the French family had not changed theirhabits. The ranch was still a hang-out for every waster in the country.But the young men were away a great deal in the summer and fall,following the various local races. They had two or three good horses,and seemed to find the sport profitable. Also they had achieved a ratherunenviable notoriety. They had all been mixed up more or less in variousrows, but somehow these matters had been hushed up. Nobody desired toincur the enmity of a family which was supposed to have money, and oneway and another a good deal of influence.
Angus would have passed, but Garland stopped him, asking him to come andhave a drink. Angus refused civilly, and Blake sneered.
"It won't cost you anything," he said thickly.
"I don't drink," Angus said shortly.
"Do you do anything?" Blake sneered. "Do you have any fun at all?"
"What I have is my own business," Angus returned, his temper beginningto ruffle.
Blake French, his brow lowering, caught him by the lapel of the coat."Are you telling me to mind my own business?" he demanded.
"That will be plenty of that sort of thing," Angus told him. "Let go,now, and don't pull me about."
But Blake, being surly and quarrelsome even when sober, gave the lapel asavage jerk, and reached out with his other hand. Angus caught hiswrist, and brought a stiffened forearm across his throat. At the samemoment he stepped forward, crooked his right leg behind Blake's leftknee and threw his full weight against him. Blake went down hard, butwas up in an instant and made a staggering rush. Angus dodged.
"Take care of him, you!" he said to Garland. "I don't want to hit him."
Blake's friends closed in on him, and Angus made his escape. He was gladto get clear so easily, for he had no mind to be mixed up in a fight onthe street. He hooked up the colts and drove down to the landing,hearing as he did so the deep bellow of the river steamer's whistle.When he got the colts tied and went out on the wharf the boat hadalready docked. Behind a group of passengers a girl was bending over acouple of grips. Her back was toward Angus, and never doubting that itwas Jean, he reached down with one hand for a grip, while he slipped hisother arm around her waist.
"Hello, old girl!" he said. But to his utter amazement, as she snappederect in the crook of his arm, it was not Jean at all. This girl wastaller, black of hair and blue of eye. For a moment he did not recognizeher, and then he knew her for Kathleen French, whom he had not seen formore than a year. "Oh," he said blankly, "it's you!"
"I think so," she said dryly. "I can stand without being held, thanks."
Angus dropped his arm from her waist, blushing.
"I thought you were Jean. I'm awfully sorry."
Kathleen French's dark blue eyes looked him up and down, and to hisrelief she seemed more amused than angry.
"But your sister wasn't on the boat. It's nice to be welcomed bysomebody." She frowned, glancing down the wharf. "Have you seen any ofmy brothers? Somebody should be here to meet me."
"Blake is in town. I haven't seen any of the other boys."
"Then why isn't Blake here?" she demanded.
"I don't know," Angus returned. "It's not my fault, is it?"
"No, of course not. He was to be here--or somebody was--and drive meout. I suppose I'll have to go somewhere and wait his pleasure. Where ishe, do you know?"
"Why--" Angus began doubtfully, and stopped.
"Look here," said Kathleen French, "has Blake been drinking?"
"I think he could drive all right."
"Pig! Brute!" Blake's sister ejaculated viciously. "He couldn't keepsober, even to meet me. Didn't think I mattered, I suppose. I'll showhim. Able to drive, is he? Well, he isn't able to drive me. I'll get alivery rig."
"I will drive you out."
"That's good of you. But it's out of your way."
"It will do the colts good--take the edge off them. But I don't knowwhat to do about Jean. She was to have come on this boat."
"She must have missed it. Likely she will be on the next."
This seemed probable. As there was nothing to be done about it, Anguswent for Kathleen's trunk. He wheeled it on a truck to the rig, pickedit up and deposited it in the wagon back of the seat without apparenteffort. As the trunk went up Kathleen French's eyes widened a little. Heturned to her.
"The step is broken and if you climb in the mud will get on your dress,"he said. "I had better lift you over the wheel, if you don't mind."
"Of course I don't mind."
He lifted her up as one holds a child aloft to see a passing parade,until her feet set on top of the wheel. As she seated herself sheglanced at him with a queer expression of puzzlement. He unhitched thecolts, gathered up the lines and came up over the wheel beside her. Ashe dropped into the seat the team got away with a plunge and they wenttownward with slack tugs, the reins and Angus' arms pulling the load.
"They're a little frisky," he said. "They'll be all right when they getout of town."
"You don't think I'm afraid, do you?" she said.
"No, I guess you are not nervous of horses."
Angus hoped they would see nothing of Blake. But as they clattered upthe main street, the colts dancing and fighting the bits and Angusholding
them with a double wrap and talking to them steadily to quietthem, Blake and his companions were crossing from one side to the other.He recognized Angus and his sister, and probably remembered that he wasto meet her. With the memory of his recent encounter surging in hisfogged brain he lurched out into the roadway and called on Angus tostop; and as the latter did not do so, he made an unsteady rush for thecolts' heads.
Just then Angus could not have stopped the colts if he had wished to,and he did not wish it. He knew that if Blake got hold of them it meanta wrangle on the street, and so he loosed a wrap and clicked a sharpcommand. The colts went into their collars with a bound.
As they did so Kathleen French reached swiftly across and plucked thewhip from its socket on the dash. Angus had time for just one glance.The nigh forewheel was just grazing Blake, so that he jumped back. Hisflushed, scowling face was upturned, his mouth open in imprecation. Thenwith a vicious swish and crack the lash of the blacksnake curled downover his head and shoulders, and he went out of sight.
Angus was too fully occupied with the colts to look back. They missed awagon and a buggy by inches merely, and were a mile out of town beforehe was able to pull them down to an ordinary gait; and he was in nosweet temper at them, at Blake, and even at Blake's sister; for thatyoung lady's swishing cut with the whip had put the finishing touch tothe colts' nerves.
Kathleen herself had not uttered a word, nor had she grasped the seatrail, even when in danger of collision. Now she sat upright, an angrycolor in her cheeks, her mouth set in a straight line, and the whipstill in her hand. She met Angus' eyes with a defiant stare.
"Well?" she said.
"I didn't say anything."
"You're thinking a lot, though."
"Am I?"
"Yes, you are! And don't you say a word of it to me. I can't stand it."
"I am not going to say anything," Angus told her, and stared ahead overthe colts' ears, in which companionable fashion they drove for nearlytwo miles. Then he felt her hand on his arm.
"I'm sorry, Angus. I was utterly rude. Let it go, won't you?"
"Of course," he assented. "I wasn't any too polite myself. The teamnearly got away from me."
"And then you think I shouldn't have taken the whip to Blake."
"You might have taken an ax to him for all I'd care," Angus admitted.
"Hello!" she said. "Have you had any trouble with Blake?"
"No real trouble." He told her what had occurred.
"Well, I'm glad I used the whip," she commented. "He won't be proud ofit--before his friends. Wait till I see the boys! A nice lot, sendingBlake--Blake!--to meet me." Her teeth clicked over the words. "Isuppose," she went on bitterly after a pause, "there's a black sheep inevery family. But in some families--What do you think of our family?"
Angus stared at her. He had never thought much about the Frenches, whowere outside his orbit. Being young, one side of him had at times enviedtheir easy life; but another side of him held for them the grim, bitterscorn of the worker for the idler and waster. These things, however,were far below the surface.
"I don't know your family very well," he said.
She did not press the question.
"That is so. Angus--I hope you don't mind being called that, any morethan I mind being called by my first name--we've known each other foryears, but not very well. Perhaps we'll know each other better. I'm homefor good. I'm supposed to be a young lady, now."
"Are you?" said Angus. She laughed.
"My education--polite and otherwise--is finished. That is what I mean. Iam now prepared to settle down to the serious business of life--of ayoung woman's life."
"And what is that?"
"If you don't know I won't tell you. Never mind about me. Tell me aboutyourself."
"Myself? Oh, I've just been living on the ranch."
She considered him gravely, and he stared back. Whatever she saw, hefound her decidedly good to look upon, not only because of her eyes andhair and clear, satiny skin, but because of the lithe, clean-run shapeof her, which he admired as he would that of a horse, or an athlete's intraining. She broke the silence abruptly.
"Do you know what my trunk weighs?"
He glanced back at it, shaking his head. "No. It's riding all rightthere."
"Do you know what I weigh?"
"Perhaps a hundred and thirty."
"Ten pounds more. And the trunk weighs more than two hundred."
"Well, what about it?" Angus asked, puzzled.
"What about it? Are you in the habit of picking up trunks like that asif they were meat platters, and girls as if they were babies? I waswatching you, and you didn't even breathe hard."
"Oh, is that it?" Angus laughed. "That's nothing. Any of your brotherscould handle that trunk."
"Gavin could, of course. But he's very strong."
"Well?" said Angus, smiling at her.
"Why, yes, you must be. But I've always thought of you as a boy. And Isuppose you've thought of me as a gawky, long-legged girl."
"I haven't thought of you at all," Angus told her.
"Now I know I'm going to like you," she laughed. "I don't know aman--except my brothers, who of course don't count--who would have toldme that."
Angus flushed, but stuck to his guns.
"Well, why should I think of you?"
"No reason. You don't know much about girls, do you?"
"Not a thing. I have had no time for them."
"And no use for them!"
"I did not say that."
"But you looked it, Angus. I'll never forget the look of relief on yourface years ago when we appeared to take poor, little lost Faith Wintonoff your hands--and off your pony. And yet she liked you. She speaksstill of how good and kind you were to her, though you frightened her atfirst."
"She must be thinking of Jean's doughnuts," Angus grinned. "I hadforgotten all about it. Where is she now?"
"I don't know. She and her father were in Italy when I heard from herlast."
"She would be grown up," Angus deduced. "I wonder if I would know her?"
But the French ranch hove in sight, its big two-story house and maze ofstables in a setting of uncared-for fields, which Angus never sawwithout something akin to pain. A chorus of dogs greeted the sound ofwheels, and half a dozen of them shot around the corner of the house.
Angus liked dogs, but not when he was driving colts. But just as theybegan to dance and the nigh bay had lashed out with a vicious hoof,Gavin French came around the corner, and at his command the dogs shrankas if he had laid a whip across them. Just then Gavin was wearing ridingbreeches, moccasins, and a flannel shirt wide open at the throat andstagged off at the sleeves, so that the bronzed column of his neck andthe full sweep of his long, splendidly muscled arms were revealed. Hestrode softly, cat-footed, gripping with his toes, and the smoke of theshort pipe which was his inseparable companion, drifted behind him.
"Hello, Kit!" he said, and nodded to Angus. "Where is Blake? He went foryou."
"Blake's drunk," Kathleen replied.
"Drunk, is he?" Gavin said without surprise.
"And you're a nice bunch of brothers to send him! Couldn't one of youhave come?"
"Oh, well, he was going, anyway," said Gavin carelessly. "Did you seehim?"
"Yes, I saw him. He tried to stop Angus' team on the main street, and Islashed him back with the whip."
"You little devil!" said her brother, but with a certain admiration inhis voice. "But that's pretty hard medicine, Kit!"
"And what sort of medicine is it for me to have a drunken blackguard ofa brother run out on the street to hold up the rig I'm driving in?" sheflared. "I'm entitled to ordinary respect; even if I am a sister, andBlake and all of you had better understand it now."
"Pshaw!" said Gavin. "The trouble with you, Kit, is that you've got awire edge. You're set on a hair-trigger."
"And the trouble with Blake and the whole lot of you is that you've runwild," she retorted. "You've got so that you don't care for anything oranybody. You
're practically savages. But I can tell you, you'll remembersome of the ordinary usages of civilization now I'm home."
"And a sweet temper you've come back in!" said Gavin. He lifted hissister down over the wheel and reached for the trunk.
"It's heavy, Gan," she said, with a glance at Angus.
"Is it?" said Gavin, gripping the handles. He lifted it without apparenteffort, and set it on his right shoulder. "I may be able to staggeralong with it," he told her ironically. "Would you like me to carry you,too?"
"You can't!"
"Can't I?" laughed the blond giant. "Have you any money left to bet onthat?"
"Five dollars that you can't carry me and the trunk--upstairs and to myroom."
"My five," said her brother. "Come here." With the trunk on his shoulderhe bent his knees till he squatted low on the balls of his feet. "Nowsit on my shoulder and put your right arm around my neck. Give me yourleft hand. All set?"
"All set."
Angus watched with interest, doubtful if he could do it. But slowly,steadily, without shake or tremor the knees of the big man began tostraighten, and his shoulders topped by girl and trunk to rise, until hestood upright. Upright he hitched to get a better balance, and strodeoff for the house as easily as Angus himself would have carried a sackof oats. Kathleen looked back at him and laughed.
"Good-by, Angus. Thank you ever so much--and come and see me."
The last thing Angus saw as he wheeled the colts for home, was theburdened bulk of Gavin French stooping for the doorway.
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