by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER VIII
"I Wish You'd Quit Believing in Me!"
A distant screaming roused Ford from his bitter mood of introspection.He raised his head and listened, his heavy-lidded eyes staring blanklyat the wall opposite, before he sprang off the bunk, pulled on hisboots, and rushed from the room. Outside, he hesitated long enough todiscover which direction he must take to reach the woman who wasscreaming inarticulately, her voice vibrant with sheer terror. The soundcame from the little, brown cottage that seemed trying modestly to hidebehind a dispirited row of young cottonwoods across a deep, narrowgully, and he ran headlong toward it. He crossed the plank footbridge ina couple of long leaps, vaulted over the gate which barred his way, andso reached the house just as a woman whom he knew must be Mason's"Kate," jerked open the door and screamed "Chester!" almost in hisface. Behind her rolled a puff of slaty blue smoke.
Ford pushed past her in the doorway without speaking; the smoke told itsown urgent tale and made words superfluous. She turned and followed him,choking over the pungent smoke.
"Oh, where's Chester?" she wailed. "The whole garret's on fire--and Ican't carry Phenie--and she's asleep and can't walk anyway!" She rushedhalf across the room and stopped, pointing toward a closed door, withFord at her heels.
"She's in there!" she cried tragically. "Save her, quick--and I'll findChester. You'd think, with all the men there are on this ranch, there'dbe some one around--oh, and my new piano!"
She ran out of the house, scolding hysterically because the men weregone, and Ford laughed a little as he went to the door she hadindicated. When his fingers touched the knob, it turned fumblingly underanother hand than his own; the door opened, and he confronted the girlwhom he had tried to befriend the day before. She had evidently justgotten out of bed, and into a flimsy blue kimono, which she was holdingtogether at the throat with one hand, while with the other she steadiedherself against the wall. She stared blankly into his eyes, and her facewas very white indeed, with her hair falling thickly upon either side intwo braids which reached to her hips.
Ford gave her one quick, startled glance, said "Come on," quitebrusquely, and gathered her into his arms with as little sentiment as hewould have bestowed upon the piano. His eyes smarted with the smoke,which blinded him so that he bumped into chairs on his way to the door.Outside he stopped, and looked down at the girl, wondering what heshould do with her. Since Kate had stated emphatically that she couldnot walk, it seemed scarcely merciful to deposit her on the ground andleave her to her own devices. She had closed her eyes, and she lookedunpleasantly like a corpse; and there was an insistent crackling up inthe roof, which warned Ford that there was little time for the weighingof fine points. He was about to lay her on the bare ground, for want ofa better place, when he glimpsed Mose running heavily across thebridge, and went hurriedly to meet him.
"Here! You take her down and put her in one of the bunks, Mose," hecommanded, when Mose confronted him, panting a good deal because of histwo hundred and fifty pounds of excess fat and a pair ofdown-at-the-heel slippers which hampered his movements appreciably. Moselooked at the girl and then at his two hands.
"I can't take her," he lamented. "I got m'hands full of aigs!"
Ford's reply was a sweep of the girl's inert figure against Mose'soutstretched hands, which freed them effectually of their burden ofeggs. "You darned chump, what's eggs in a case like this?" he criedsharply, and forced the girl into his arms. "You take her and put her ona bunk. I've got to put out that fire!"
So Mose, a reluctant knight and an awkward one, carried the girl to thebunk-house, and left Ford free to save the house if he could.Fortunately the fire had started in a barrel of old clothing which hadstood too close to the stovepipe, and while the smoke was stifling, theflames were as yet purely local. And, more fortunately still, that dayhappened to be Mrs. Mason's wash-day and two tubs of water stood in thekitchen, close to the narrow stairway which led into the loft. Three orfour pails of water and some quick work in running up and down thestairs was all that was needed. Ford, standing in the low, unfinishedloft, looked at the rafter which was burnt half through, and wiped hisperspiring face with his coat sleeve.
"Lordy me!" he observed aloud, "I sure didn't come any too soon!"
"Oh, it's all out! I don't know how I ever shall thank you in thisworld! With Phenie in bed with a sprained ankle so she couldn't walk,and the men all gone, I was just wild! I--why--" Kate, standing upon thestairs so that she could look into the loft, stopped suddenly and staredat Ford with some astonishment. Plainly, she had but then discoveredthat he was a stranger--and it was quite as plain that she was takingstock of his blackened eyes and other bruises, and that with thesheltered woman's usual tendency to exaggerate the disfigurements.
"That's all right; I don't need any thanks." Ford, seeing no other wayof escape, approached her steadily, the empty bucket swinging in hishand. "The fire's all out, so there's nothing more I can do here, Iguess."
"Oh, but you'll have to bring Josephine back!" Kate's eyes met hisstraightforward glance reluctantly, and not without reason; for Ford haddark, greenish purple areas in the region of his eyes, a skinned cheek,and a swollen lip; his chin was scratched and there was a bruise on hisforehead where, on the night of his marriage, he had hit the floorviolently under the impact of two or three struggling male humans.Although they were five days old--six, some of them--these diversbattle-signs were perfectly visible, not to say conspicuous; so thatKate Mason was perhaps justified in her perfectly apparent diffidence inlooking at him. So do we turn our eyes self-consciously away from acripple, lest we give offense by gazing upon his misfortune.
"_I_ can't carry her, and she can't walk--her ankle is spraineddreadfully. So if you'll bring her back to the house, I'll be ever somuch--"
"Certainly; I'll bring her back right away." Ford came down the stairsso swiftly that she retreated in haste before him, and once down he didnot linger; indeed, he almost ran from the house and from herembarrassed gratitude. On the way to the bunk-house it occurred to himthat it might be no easy matter, now, for Mason to conceal Ford'sidentity and his sins. From the way in which she had stared wincingly athis battered countenance, he realized that she did, indeed, have ideals.Ford grinned to himself, wondering if Ches didn't have to do his smokingaltogether in the bunk-house; he judged her to be just the woman to wagea war on tobacco, and swearing, and muddy boots, and drinking out ofone's saucer, and all other weaknesses peculiar to the male of ourspecies. He was inclined to pity Ches, in spite of his mentalacknowledgment that she was a very nice woman indeed; and he was halfinclined to tell Mason when he saw him that he'd have to look furtherfor a foreman.
He found the girl lying upon a bunk just inside the door, still withclosed eyes and that corpse-like look in her face. He was guilty ofhoping that she would remain in that oblivious state for at least fiveminutes longer, but the hope was short-lived; for when he lifted hercarefully in his arms, her eyes flew open and stared up at him intently.
Ford shut his lips grimly and tried not to mind that unwinking gazewhile he carried her out and up the path, across the little bridge andon to the house, and deposited her gently upon her own bed. He had notspoken a word, nor had she. So he left her thankfully to Kate's tearfulministrations and hurried from the room.
"Lordy me!" he sighed, as he closed the door upon them and went back tothe bunk-house, which he entered with a sigh of relief. One tribute hepaid her, and one only: the tribute of feeling perturbed over herpresence, and of going hot all over at the memory of her steady stareinto his face. She was a queer girl, he told himself; but then, so faras he had discovered, all women were queer; the only difference beingthat some women were more so than others.
He sat down on the bunk where she had lain, and speedily forgot the girland the incident in facing the problem of that foremanship. He could notget away from the conviction that he was not to be trusted. He did nottrust himself, and there was no reason why any man who knew him at allshould trust him. Ches Mason was a g
ood fellow; he meant well, Forddecided, but he simply did not realize what he was up against. He meant,therefore, to enlighten him further, and go his way. He was almost sorrythat he had come.
Mason, when Ford confronted him later at the corral and bluntly statedhis view of the matter, heard him through without a word, and did notlaugh the issue out of the way, as he had been inclined to do before.
"I'll be all right for a month, maybe," Ford finished, "and that's aslong as I can bank on myself. I tell you straight, Ches, it won't work.You may think you're hiring the same fellow that came out of the Northwith you--but you aren't. Why, damn it, there ain't a man I know thatwouldn't give you the laugh if they knew the offer you've made me! Theywould, that's a fact. They'd laugh at you. You're all right, Ches, but Iwon't stand for a deal like that. I can't make good."
Mason waited until he was through. Then he came closer and put bothhands on Ford's shoulders, so that they stood face to face, and helooked straight into Ford's discolored eyes with his own shining alittle behind their encircling wrinkles.
"You can make good!" he said calmly. "I know it. All you need is achance to pull up. Seeing you won't give yourself one, I'm giving it toyou. You'll do for me what you won't do for yourself, Ford--and ifthere's a yellow streak in you, I never got a glimpse of it; and theyellow will sure come to the surface of a man when he's bucking aproposition like you and me bucked for two months. You didn't lay downon that job, and you were just a kid, you might say. Gosh, Ford, I'dbank on you any old time--put you on your mettle, and I would! You canmake good here--and damn it, you will!"
"I wish I was as sure of that as you seem to be," Ford muttereduneasily, and turned away. Mason's easy chuckle followed him, and Fordswung about and faced him again.
"I haven't made any cast-iron promise--"
"Did I ask you to make any?" Mason's voice sharpened.
"But--Lordy me, Ches! How do you know I--"
"I know. That's enough."
"But--maybe I don't want the darned job. I never said--"
Mason was studying him, as a man studies the moods of an untamed horse."I didn't think you'd dodge," he drawled, and the blood surgedansweringly to Ford's cheeks. "You do want it."
"If I should happen to get jagged up in good shape, about the firstthing I'd do would be to lick the stuffing out of you for being such asimple-minded cuss," Ford prophesied grimly, as one who knows wellwhereof he speaks.
"Ye-es--but you won't get jagged."
"Oh, Lord! I wish you'd quit believing in me! You used to have somesense," Ford grumbled. But he reached out and clenched his fingers uponMason's arm so tight that Mason set his teeth, and he looked at himlong, as if there was much that he would like to put into words andcould not. "Say! You're white clear down to your toes, Ches," he saidfinally, and walked away hurriedly with his hat jerked low over hiseyes.
Mason looked after him as long as he was in sight, and afterwards tookoff his hat, and wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead. "Gosh!"he whispered fervently. "That was nip and tuck--but I got him, thank theLord!" Whereupon he blew his nose violently, and went up to his supperwith his hands in his pockets and his humorous lips pursed into awhistle.
Before long he was back, chuckling to himself as he bore down upon Fordin the corral, where he was industriously rubbing Rambler's sprainedshoulder with liniment.
"The wife says you've got to come up to the house," he announcedgleefully. "You've gone and done the heroic again, and she wants to dosomething to show her gratitude."
"You go back and tell your wife that I'm a bold, bad man and I won'tcome." Ford, to prove his sincerity, sat down upon the stout mangerthere, and crossed his legs with an air of finality.
"I did tell her," Mason confessed sheepishly. "She wanted to know whoyou was, and I told her before I thought. And she wanted to know whatwas the matter with your face, 'poor fellow,' and I told her that,too--as near as I knew it. I told her," he stated sweepingly, "thatyou'd been on a big jamboree and had licked fourteen men hand-running.There ain't," he confided with a twinkle, "any use at all in trying tokeep a secret from your wife; not," he qualified, "from a wife likeKate! So she knows the whole darned thing, and she's sore as the deucebecause I didn't bring you up to the house right away when you came. Shethinks you're sufferin' from them wounds and she's going to doctor 'em.That's the way with a woman--you never can tell what angle she's goingto look at a thing from. You're the man that packed me down out of theWrangel mountains on your back, and that's enough for her--dang it, Katethinks a lot of me! Besides, you done the heroic this afternoon. You'vegot to come."
"There ain't anything heroic in sloshing a few buckets of water on abarrel of burning rags," Ford belittled, seeking in his pockets for hiscigarette papers.
"How about rescuing a lady?" Mason twitted. "You come along. I want youup there myself. Gosh! I want somebody I can talk to about somethingbesides dresses and the proper way to cure sprained ankles, and whetherthe grocer sent out the right brand of canned peaches. Women are allright--but a man wants some one around to talk to. You ain't married!"
"Oh. Ain't I?" Ford snorted. "And what if I ain't?"
"Say, there's a mighty nice girl staying with us; the one you rescued.She's laid up now--got bucked off, or fell off, or something yesterday,and hurt her foot--but she's a peach, all right. You'll--"
"I know the lady," Ford cut in dryly. "I met her yesterday, and wecommenced hating each other as soon as we got in talking distance. Shesent me to catch her horse, and then she pulled out before I got back.She's a peach, all right!"
"Oh. You're the fellow!" Mason regarded him attentively. "Now, I don'tbelieve she said a word to Kate about that, and she must have known whoit was packed her out of the house. I wonder why she didn't say anythingabout it to Kate! But she wasn't to blame for leaving you out there,honest she wasn't. I went out to hunt her up--Kate got kinda worriedabout her--and she told me about you, and we did wait a little while.But it was getting cold, and she was hurt pretty bad and getting kindawobbly, so I put her on my horse and brought her home. But she left anote for you, and I sent a man back after you with a horse. He come backand said he couldn't locate you. So we thought you'd gone to some otherranch." He stopped and looked quizzically at Ford. "So you're the man!And you're both here for the winter--at least, Kate says she's going tokeep her all winter. Gosh! This is getting romantic!"
"Don't you believe it!" Ford urged emphatically. "I don't want to bumpinto her again; a little of her company will last me a long while!"
"Oh, you won't meet Jo to-night; Josephine, her name is. She's in bed,and will be for a week or so, most likely. You've just got to come,Ford. Kate'll be down here after you herself, if I go back withoutyou--and she'll give me the dickens into the bargain. I want you to getacquainted with my kid--Buddy. He's down in the river field with theboys, but he'll be back directly. Greatest kid you ever saw, Ford! Onlyseven, and he can ride like a son-of-a-gun, and wears chaps and spurs,and can sling a loop pretty good, for a little kid! Come on!"
"Wel-ll, all right--but Lordy me! I do hate to, Ches, and that's a fact.Women I'm plumb scared of. I never met one in my life that didn't handme a package of trouble so big I couldn't see around it. Why--" He shuthis teeth upon the impulse to confide to Mason his matrimonialmischance.
"These two won't. My wife's the real goods, once you get to know her; alittle fussy, maybe, over some things--most all women are. But she's allright, you bet. And Josephine's the proper stuff too. A little abrupt,maybe--"
"Abrupt!" Ford echoed, and laughed over the word. "Yes, she is what youmight call a little--abrupt!"