The Cattle-Baron's Daughter

by Harold Bindloss

  XXX

  LARRY'S WEDDING DAY

  Hetty was married in haste, without benefit of clergy, while several men,with resolute faces, kept watch outside the judge's door, and two who weremounted sat gazing across the prairie on a rise outside the town. Afterthe declarations were made and signed, the judge turned to Hetty, whostood smiling bravely, though her eyes were a trifle misty, by Larry'sside.

  "Now I have something to tell your husband, Mrs. Grant," he said. "Youwill have to spare him for about five minutes."

  Hetty's lips quivered, for she recognized the gravity of his tone, and itwas not astonishing that for a moment or two she turned her face aside.She had endeavoured to look forward hopefully and banish regrets; but theprosaic sordidness of the little dusty office, and the absence of anythingthat might have imparted significance or dignity to the hurried ceremony,had not been without their effect. She had seen other weddings in New Yorkas well as in the cattle country, and knew what pomp and festivities wouldhave attended hers had she married with her father's goodwill. After all,it was the greatest day in most women's lives, and she felt theunseemliness of the rite that had made her and Larry man and wife. Still,the fact remained, and, brushing her misgivings away, she glanced up ather husband.

  "It must concern us both now," she said. "May I hear?"

  "Well," said the judge, who looked a trifle embarrassed, "I guess you areright, and Larry would have to tell you; but it's not a pleasant task tome. It is just this--we can't keep you and your husband any longer in thistown."

  "Are you against us, too?" Hetty asked, with a flash in her eyes. "I amnot afraid."

  The judge made her a little respectful inclination. "You are Torrance ofCedar's daughter, and everyone knows the kind of grit there is in thatfamily. While I knew the cattle-men would raise a good deal ofunpleasantness when I married you, I did it out of friendliness for Larry;but it is my duty to uphold the law, and I can't have your husband'sfriends and your father's cow-boys making trouble here."

  "Larry," said the girl tremulously, "we must go on again."

  Grant's face grew stern. "No," he said. "You shall stay here in spite ofthem until you feel fit to ride for the railroad."

  Just then a man came in. "Battersly saw Torrance with the Sheriff andClavering and quite a band of cow-boys ride by the trail forks an hourago," he said. "They were heading for Hamlin's, but they'd make this placein two hours when they didn't find Larry there."

  There was an impressive silence. Hetty shuddered, and the fear in her eyeswas unmistakable when she laid her hand on her husband's arm.

  "We must go," she said. "It would be too horrible if you should meethim."

  "Mrs. Grant is right," said the storekeeper. "We know Torrance of Cedar,and if you stayed here, Larry, you and she might be sorry all your lives.Now, you could, by riding hard, make Canada to-morrow."

  Grant stifled a groan, and though his face was grim his voice wascompassionate as he turned to Hetty.

  "Are you very tired?" he said gently. "It must be the saddle again."

  Hetty said nothing, but she pressed his arm, and her eyes shone mistilywhen they went out together. Half an hour later they rode out of the town,and Grant turned to her when the clustering houses dipped behind a billowyrise, and they were once more alone in the empty prairie, with their facestowards Canada.

  "I am 'most ashamed to look at you, but you will forgive me, little girl,"he said. "There are brighter days before us than your wedding one, and byand by I hope you will not be sorry you have borne so much for me."

  Hetty's lips quivered a little, but the pride of the cattle-barons shonein her eyes. "I have nothing to forgive and am only very tired," she said."I shall never be sorry while you are kind to me, and I would have riddento Canada if I had known that it would have killed me. The one thing I amafraid of is that you and he should meet."

  They rode on, speaking but seldom as the leagues went by, for Grant hadmuch to think of and Hetty was very weary. Indeed, she swayed unevenly inher saddle, while the long, billowy levels shining in the sunlight rolledback, as it were, interminably to them, and now and then only savedherself from a fall by a clutch at the bridle. There were times when adrowsiness that would scarcely be shaken off crept upon her, and sheroused herself with a strenuous effort and a horrible fear at her heart,knowing that if her strength failed her the blood of husband or fathermight be upon her head.

  The sky was blue above them, the white sod warm below, and alreadychequered here and there with green; and, advancing in long battalion,crane and goose and mallard came up from the south to follow the suntowards the Pole. The iron winter had fled before it, and all naturesmiled; but Hetty, who had often swept the prairie at a wild gallop, withher blood responding to the thrill of reawakening life that was ineverything, rode with a set white face and drooping head, and Larrygroaned as he glanced at her.

  Late in the afternoon they dismounted, and Hetty lay with her head uponhis shoulder while they rested amidst the grass. The provisions thestorekeeper had given them were scattered about, but Hetty had tastednothing, and Grant had only forced himself to swallow a few mouthfuls withdifficulty. He had thrown an arm about her, and she lay with eyes closed,motionless.

  Suddenly he raised his head and looked about him. Save for the sighing ofthe warm wind, the prairie was very still, and a low, white rise cut offfrom sight the leagues they had left behind, but, though a man from thecities would have heard nothing at all, Larry, straining his ears tolisten, heard a sound just audible creep out of the silence. For a momenthe sat rigid and intent, wondering if it was made by a flight of cranes;but he could see no dusky stain on the blue beyond the rise, and hisfingers closed upon the rifle as the sound grew plainer. It rose and fellwith a staccato rhythm in it, and he recognized the beat of hoofs.Turning, he gently touched the girl.

  "Hetty, you must rouse yourself," he said, with a pitiful quiver in hisvoice.

  The girl slowly lifted her head, and glanced about her in a half-dazedfashion. Then, with an effort, she drew one foot under her, and again thefear shadowed her face.

  "Oh," she said, "they're coming! Lift me, dear."

  Larry gently raised her to her feet, but it was a minute or two before shecould stand upright, and the man's face was haggard when he lifted her tothe saddle.

  "I think the end has come," he said. "You can ride no farther."

  Hetty swayed a little; but she clutched the bridle, and a faint sparkleshowed in her half-closed eyes.

  "They want to take you from me. We will go on until we drop," she said.

  Larry got into the saddle, though he did not know how he accomplished it,and looked ahead anxiously as he shook the bridle. Away on the rim of theprairie there was a dusky smear, and he knew it was a birch-bluff, whichwould, if they could reach it, afford them shelter. In the open he wouldbe at the cow-boys' mercy; but a desperate man might at least check someof the pursuers among the trees, and he was not sure that Torrance, whoseyears must tell, would be among them. There was a very faint hope yet.

  They went on at a gallop, though the horses obtained at Windsor werealready jaded, and very slowly the bluff grew higher. Glancing over hisshoulder, Grant saw a few moving objects straggle across the crest of therise. They seemed to grow plainer while he watched them, and more appearedbehind.

  "We will make the bluff before them," he said hoarsely. "Ride!"

  He drove his heels home; but the beast he rode was flagging fast when,knowing how Torrance's cow-boys were mounted, he glanced behind again. Hecould see them distinctly now, straggling, with wide hats bent by the windand jackets fluttering, across the prairie. Here and there a rifle-barrelglinted, and the beat of their horses' hoofs reached him plainly. One,riding furiously a few lengths ahead of the foremost, he guessed wasClavering, and he fancied he recognized the Sheriff in another; but hecould not discern Torrance anywhere. He turned his eyes ahead and watchedthe bluff rise higher, though the white levels seemed to flit back to himwith an exasperating slowness. Beyon
d it a faint grey smear rose towardsthe blue; but the jaded horse demanded most of his attention, for the sodwas slippery here and there where the snow had lain in a hollow, and thebeast stumbled now and then.

  Still, the birches were drawing nearer, and Hetty holding ahead of him,though the roar of hoofs behind him told that the pursuers were coming upfast. He was not certain yet that he could reach the trees before theycame upon him, and was clawing with one hand at his rifle when Hetty criedout faintly:

  "There are more of them in front."

  Grant set his lips as a band of horsemen swung out of the shadows of thebluff. His eyes caught and recognized the glint of sunlight on metal; butin another moment his heart leaped, for through the drumming of theirhoofs there came the musical jingle of steel, and he saw the men weredressed in blue uniform. He swung up his hat exultantly, and his voicereached the girl, hoarse and strained with relief.

  "We are through. They are United States cavalry!"

  The horsemen came on at a trot, until Grant and the girl rode up to them.Then, they pulled up, and when Grant had helped Hetty down their officer,who wheeled his horse, sat gazing at them curiously. Grant did not at oncerecognize him, but Hetty gasped.

  "Larry," she said faintly, "it's Jack Cheyne."

  Grant drew her hand within his arm, and walked slowly forward past thewondering troopers. Then he raised his broad hat.

  "I claim your protection for my wife, Captain Cheyne," he said.

  Cheyne sat very still a moment, looking down on him with a strainedexpression in his face; and Grant, who saw it, glanced at Hetty. She wasleaning heavily upon him, her garments spattered with mire, but he couldnot see her eyes. Then Cheyne nodded gravely.

  "Mrs. Grant can count upon it," he said. "Those men were chasing you?"

  "Yes," said Grant. "One of them is the Sheriff. I believe he intends toarrest me."

  "Sheriff Slocane?"

  "Yes. I shall resist capture by him; but I heard that the civil law wouldbe suspended in this district, and if that has been done, I will givemyself up to you."

  Cheyne nodded again. "Give one of the boys your rifle, and step back withMrs. Grant in the meanwhile. You are on parole."

  He said something sharply, and there was a trample of hoofs and jingle ofsteel as the troopers swung into changed formation. They sat still as thecattle-men rode up, and when Clavering reined his horse in a few lengthsaway from them Cheyne acknowledged his salute.

  "We have come after a notorious disturber of this district who has, Inotice, taken refuge with you," he said. "I must ask you to give him up."

  "I'm sorry," said Cheyne firmly. "It can't be done just yet."

  Clavering glanced at the men behind him--and there were a good many ofthem, all without fear, and irresponsible; then he looked at the littlehandful of troopers, and Cheyne's face hardened as he saw the insolentsignificance of his glance.

  "Hadn't you better think it over? The boys are a little difficult to holdin hand, and we can't go back without our man," he said.

  Cheyne eyed him steadily. "Mr. Grant has given himself up to me. If thereis any charge against him it shall be gone into. In the meanwhile, drawyour men off and dismount if you wish to talk to me."

  Clavering sat perfectly still, with an ironical smile on his lips. "Bewise, and don't thrust yourself into this affair, which does not concernyou, or you may regret it," he said. "Here is a gentleman who willconvince you."

  He backed his horse as another man rode forward and with an assumption ofimportance addressed Cheyne. "Now," he said, "we don't want anyunpleasantness, but I have come for the person of Larry Grant, and I meanto take him."

  "Will you tell me who I have the honour of addressing?" said Cheyne.

  "Sheriff Slocane. I have a warrant for Larry Grant, and you will put me toany inconvenience in carrying it out at your peril."

  Cheyne smiled drily. "Then, as it is evidently some days since you lefthome, I am afraid I have bad news for you. You are superseded, Mr.Slocane."

  The Sheriff's face flushed darkly, Clavering's grew set, and there was anangry murmur from the men behind them.

  "Boys," said Clavering, "are you going to be beaten by Larry again?"

  There was a trampling of hoofs as some of the cow-boys edged their horsescloser, and the murmurs grew louder; but Cheyne flung up one hand.

  "Another word, and I'll arrest you, Mr. Clavering," he said. "Sling thoserifles, all of you! I have another troop with horses picketed behind thebluff."

  There was sudden silence until the Sheriff spoke. "Boys," he said, "don'tbe blamed fools when it isn't any use. Larry has come out on top again.But I don't know that I am sorry I have done with him and thecattle-men."

  The men made no further sign of hostility, and Cheyne turned to theSheriff. "Thank you," he said. "Now, I have to inform you that thisdistrict is under martial law, and I have been entrusted, within limits,with jurisdiction. If you and Mr. Clavering have any offences to urgeagainst Grant, I shall be pleased to hear you. In that case you can tellyour men to picket their horses, and follow me to our bivouac."

  The two men dismounted, and while Hetty sat trembling amidst the birchestalked for half an hour in Cheyne's tent. Then, Clavering, who saw thatthey were gaining little, lost his head, and stood up white with anger.

  "We are wasting time," he said. "Still, I warn you that the State willhold you responsible if you turn that man loose again. Our wishes canstill command a certain attention in high places."

  Cheyne smiled coldly. "I shall be quite prepared to account for whatever Ido. The State, I fancy, is not to be dictated to by the cattle-men'scommittees. It is, of course, no affair of mine, but I can't help thinkingthat it will prove a trifle unfortunate for one or two of you that, whenyou asked for more cavalry, you were listened to."

  "Well," said the Sheriff dejectedly, "I quite fancy it will be; but I'mnot going to worry. The cattle-men made it blamed unpleasant for me. Whatwas I superseded for, any way?"

  "Incapacity and corruption, I believe," Cheyne said drily.

  Clavering stood still a moment, with an unpleasant look in his eyes, butthe Sheriff, who seemed the least disconcerted, touched his arm.

  "You come along before you do something you will be sorry for," he said."I'm not anxious for any unnecessary trouble, and it would have beenconsiderably more sensible if I had stood in with the homestead-boys."

  They went away, and Cheyne led Larry, who had been confronted with them,back to where Hetty was sitting.

  "I understand the men left your father behind, some distance back," hesaid. "He was more fatigued than the rest and his horse went lame. Yourhusband's case will have consideration, but I scarcely fancy he need haveany great apprehension, and I must try to make you comfortable in themeanwhile."

  Hetty glanced up at him with her eyes shining and quivering lips. "Thankyou," she said quietly. "Larry, I am so tired."

  Cheyne called an orderly, and ten minutes later led her to a tent. "Yourhusband placed you in my charge, and I must ask for obedience," he said."You will eat and drink what you see there, and then go to sleep. I willtake good care of Mr. Grant."

  He drew Larry away and sat talking with him for a while, then bade anorderly find him a waterproof sheet and rug. Larry was asleep within tenminutes, and the moon was shining above the bluff when he awakened andmoved to the tent where Hetty lay. Drawing back the canvas, he crept insoftly and dropped almost reverently on one knee beside her. He could hearher faint, restful breathing, and the little hand he felt for waspleasantly cool. As he stooped and touched her forehead with his lips, thefingers closed a trifle on his own, and the girl moved in her sleep."Larry," she said drowsily, "Larry, dear!"

  Grant drew his hand away very softly, and went out with his heartthrobbing furiously, to find Cheyne waiting in the vicinity. His faceshowed plain in the moonlight, and it was quietly grave; but Grant oncemore saw the expression in it that had astonished him. Now, however, heunderstood it, and Cheyne knew that he did so. They stood quite
still amoment, looking into each other's eyes.

  "Mrs. Grant is resting well?" Cheyne asked.

  "Yes," said Larry. "I owe a good deal to you."

  It did not express what they felt, but they understood each other, andCheyne smiled a little. "You need not thank me yet. Your case will requireconsideration, and if the new Sheriff urges his predecessor's charge, Ishall pass it on. In the meantime I have sent to Windsor for a buggy, inwhich you can take Mrs. Grant away to-morrow."

  It was early next morning when the buggy arrived, and Cheyne, who orderedtwo troopers to lead the hired horses, had a hasty breakfast served. Whenthe plates had been removed he turned to Hetty with a smile.

  "I have decided to release your husband--on condition that he drivesstraight back to his homestead and stays there with you," he said. "TheState has undertaken to keep order and give every man what he is entitledto now; and if we find Mr. Grant has a finger in any further trouble, Ishall blame you."

  He handed Hetty into the buggy, passed the reins to Larry, and stood alonelooking after them as they drove away. Hetty turned to her husband, with ablush in her cheek.

  "Larry," she said softly, "I have something to tell you."

  Grant checked her with a smile. "I have guessed it already; and it means anew responsibility."

  "I don't understand," said Hetty.

  Again the little twinkle showed in Larry's eyes. "Well," he said quietly,"that you should have taken me when you had men of his kind to choose frommeans a good deal. I wouldn't like you to find out that you had beenmistaken, Hetty."