by Zane Grey
“Say, Eburne, reckon you needn’t point thet cocked rifle so close to me,” declared the man on the log, querulously. “It makes me nervous. An’ I haven’t done nuthin’.”
“That’s so, Thad,” spoke up Nels. “He tried to make Dyott see sense.”
Whereupon Eburne, still keeping one eye on the man in question, took out his knife and cut the ropes that bound Nels, and then those on Tine. Both cowboys got up, red in the face, stretching themselves and rubbing out the kinks in sundry places.
“Thad, you sure cracked Dyott one on his thick nut,” declared Nels with satisfaction as he viewed the prostrate form. Then he walked over for a closer look. Dyott was not unconscious, though he appeared stunned.
Tine came over to have his say, which was not overelegant in form or content. Meanwhile Sue had freed Patricia from her bonds and led the bewildered girl to the doorstep and seated her there.
Eburne handed his rifle to Nels. “Keep an eye on these men till I see what’s best to do,” he said. Then, with a quickening of his pulse, he strode over to the doorstep.
“Are you—all right?” he asked haltingly, under the restraint of an unfamiliar emotion. Patricia’s head with its dark, rippling masses of hairy somewhat disheveled, lay against Sue’s shoulder. Faint blue veins quivered under the clear whiteness of her skin; her eyes were a singularly dark hazel as they looked up into the face of the tall ranger.
“Yes, thank you,” she replied.
“Patricia, this is Thad Eburne, the ranger I told you about,” said Sue. “Thad, this’s Miss Clay from New York.”
“Mr. Eburne, it’s no exaggeration to say I was happy to meet you —a moment ago,” murmured Patricia, suddenly smiling.
“I’m happy to meet you, Miss Clay, but I am sorry you have had such a rough time of it over here on our side of the river. Still, I suspect men like Dyott can be found most anyplace.” He found her grave, penetrating gaze most unaccountably hard to meet.
“Thad, hadn’t we better get away from heah before the others come back?” queried Sue. “They must have chased me.”
“Indeed, yes,” declared Eburne quickly. “You girls have had more than enough. Do you feel up to a short ride, Miss Clay?” he asked.
Patricia rose rather unsteadily to her feet, with Sue helping.
“I’m fine,” she replied frankly. “Let’s go where I never have to set eyes on that vile ruffian again.”
“Thad, you shore gave him a wallop,” said Sue, and with a grimace she took a quick glance at Dyott. “Reckon he’s got a haid of wood.”
“Nels, where’s your outfit?” queried Eburne, turning to the cowboys.
“Over here a ways in the woods,” replied Nels, handing back the rifle. “I left our cook with the grub an’ pack-mules. Tine an’ me fetched our beds over.”
“Get them and come along,” said Thad, and then turned to the man on the log. “You tell Dyott if I run into him again on this preserve I’ll arrest him and put him in jail. Not in Utah, but in Flagstaff! One of these girls has several influential friends down there.”
“Sure will, Eburne. An’ if you want to know, I’m trailin’ back across the line.”
Sue was leading Patricia out into the park, and Thad joined them.
“Patricia, it was bad,” Sue was saying, talking fast and cheerfully. “But it might have been worse. Suppose I hadn’t run into Thad! That brute was mad clear through…. Well, anyway, it’s over. And after a few days, when you forget it, you’ll have just as wonderful a time as we expected. I shore think you were a thoroughbred not to go down and out completely. Heah with those men, and the cowboys hawg-tied! Oh, but Nels is mad. He’ll shore kill that Dyott if he ever meets him alone.”
Sue glanced nervously back over her shoulder. Thad turned to see Tine staggering across the park with his bed roll on his shoulder and Nels coming out of the cabin.
“They’re both coming,” said Thad.
“Sue, it took four of those men to tie up your friend,” remarked Patricia.
“Which one?” asked Sue.
“Why, Nels. Dyott pointed a big revolver at both boys. Tine kept quiet, but Nels fought. They had all they could do to conquer him.”
“Nels shore used to fight for fun and for exercise when he was in a good humor. And when he was drinking—oh, he was terrible.”
Thad stole a sidelong glance at Miss Clay. Yes, she was quite tall, her head coming above his shoulder. A slight color was flushing her white cheeks. What long, dark eyelashes! From this side view her eyes appeared almost purple.
“Look at my wrists, where he tied me,” she said suddenly, extending her hands. There were red and blue marks around the slender white wrists. “Oh, I forgot my gloves. He has them.”
“Who? Dyott? I’ll go back and get them,” returned Thad.
“Don’t, I beg of you,” she cried, turning to him. “I have others, I couldn’t wear those again.”
“I’ll go anyhow,” said Thad and, wheeling, he strode back across the park. He passed Tine, but Nels threw down his bed roll and joined him.
“Reckon I want to be in on anythin’ now I’m not hawg-tied,” he explained.
Dyott was sitting up while his ally tried to stanch the blood from a wound in his scalp.
“Dyott, I want the gloves that belong to the young lady,” demanded Thad.
“They’re stickin’ in my coat pocket, over thar,” returned Dyott, pointing. And after Thad had secured the gloves, he added, “Eburne, I’m goin’ to carry your mark. So I won’t forget you.”
“Is that a threat, Dyott?” queried Thad.
“Take it any way you like.”
Thad glanced down at the brutal blood-stained face and thought better of the remark that was about to pass his lips.
“Dyott, take a hunch from me. Don’t let these selfish cattlemen force or bribe you into deals they’d never have to suffer for if you got caught.”
With that, Thad dragged the aggressive Nels away.
“Say, Thad, you’re a queer cuss,” drawled the cowboy. “Bust a man’s head an’ then talk kind to him!”
“Nels, I sort of got an idea that old rustler was being imposed upon and I felt sorry for him. Sure he ought to have been shot for mistreating the young ladies. But such men in these days don’t always get their just deserts. If it’s found out I cracked his head, I’ll have trouble.”
“Wal, it’s a cinch Dyott won’t blab.”
They caught up with Tine and then joined the girls. Thad tendered the gloves to their owner, who received them with reluctant thanks. Presently Thad espied the El Tovar horses and mules
“Little, shake with Thad Eburne, ranger,” said Nels. “An’ then rustle some grub. If I’m near starved, what must Miss Clay an’ Sue be? They haven’t had a bite since yesterday noon.”
“Patricia, you sit right heah,” Sue was saying. “I’ll fetch some water and a towel. I’ll bathe your face and brush your hair. Then, with a bite to eat and a few hours sleep—”
“Excuse me, Sue,” interrupted Thad. “Suppose we get farther away from Dyott and his gang. I don’t trust them.”
“Shore I never thought of that,” replied Sue. “We’d be nervous heah.”
“Miss Clay, do you think you can stand another short stretch in the saddle?” inquired Thad.
“I think so,” she replied, smiling at him. “I’d certainly rather make the effort than stay here.”
“Well, we’ll go then, as soon as you’ve had a little rest and something to eat,” replied Thad. “Meanwhile I’ll get my horse and return the one Sue rode. Then we’ll ride over to my cabin. It’s isolated and not far from the rim. I’m sure you’ll enjoy camping there a while.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT SEEMED to Patricia that the ranger’s “short stretch” to his cabin was very long indeed. Yet, despite the fact that she swayed in her saddle, she felt a strange pleasure in the ride. Already the terror she had experienced during the past few hours had passed completely from her mi
nd. A sense of peace and confidence filled her spirit. How much the magnificent figure of the ranger, tall, lithe, with his keen, dark, lean face, up there as the head of the party, had to do with her feeling of well-being she did not know. Now and then he looked back at her with solicitude in his gaze.
Eburne and Tine were riding in front with Little and the pack-mules. Sue rode beside Patricia, keeping close watch on her, with a hand ever ready. Nels acted in a way rather unusual for him. Patricia became aware that the cowboy could not keep away from Sue. He watched her all the time with faithful doglike eyes of devotion. It was impossible that Sue did not notice this, yet she gave not the slightest sign. She kept on trying to amuse and interest Patricia, doing everything she could to keep the eastern girl’s mind off the distressing experience she had just gone through.
“Sue, I’m all right,” said Patricia at length. “I’m not worrying and I shall not fall off my horse. You ride ahead with Nels. You make me feel so—so helpless.”
“But you’re so pale, Miss Clay. I’m afraid you had more of a shock than you think. Anyway, Thad told me to stick close to you,” Sue replied, “and I’m obeying orders.”
“Never mind what he said. And don’t call me Miss Clay. You’ve called me Patricia several times. I liked it.”
“That will be dandy,” said Sue shyly. “This mawnin’ I do feel as if I’ve known you a long time. When people get out this way in the open they soon grow close together or far apart. Shore there’s nothing like a hard camping trip to show what’s in a person. And I feel aboot you just like Thad Eburne does.”
“How is that?” asked Patricia, with a curiosity she could not disguise.
“He said, ‘Sue, she’s shore game and sweet. It was a rotten deal for a girl new to the West. This experience has taken more out of her than she realizes. You keep close watch over her. It’d only embarrass her if I did.’”
“That was nice of him,” murmured Patricia, flushing. “But I don’t think very highly of myself. Last night if I had not been clumsy and confused we’d have escaped. That would have been just fun for a western girl like you. And this morning I was terribly frightened.”
“Maybe you’ll not believe it, but I was too,” admitted Sue. “You see, how could I tell what had happened to you? When we saw Dyott going for you, and you tied helpless to that tree, you were enough to scare anyone. I’ve never seen Thad so mad.”
“How did I look?” queried Patricia.
“Shore if I’d been a man it’d have been all day with me,” drawled Sue.
“You’ve said something like that before. I gather you mean to be flattering. But you’re not too explicit. How did I look? Sue, please allow for a little natural vanity.”
“Oh, so that’s it,” laughed Sue, “Well, if you’d try for a million years you shore couldn’t make yourself look more appealing. Patricia, you were white as death. Your eyes were something to see: proud, defiant, and despairing. You’d have fallen but for that sapling where you were tied. And your body quivered all over. Reckon Thad was looking for Dyott and missed all I saw. But if he did see you I’ll bet his heart is plumb gone forever.”
“Sue Warren, I did not ask for quite so much—information or deduction,” replied Patricia confusedly. “I begin to fear you are a little—well, a confirmed scallawag if not a tease. No wonder poor Nels lives in perpetual torment.”
“Patricia, I’d love to tease you if I dared,” said Sue with sweet earnestness. “I’m western, you know, and blunt, and perhaps I seem crude to you. But I don’t lie and I do hit things plumb on the haid.”
“You may tease me all you like,” returned Patricia. “But I’m not teasing when I say that you are the bravest girl I’ve ever known. I wish I could ever be half as game. Now go ride with Nels. Let me try to take care of myself.”
“That cowboy is shore queer this morning,” declared Sue dubiously as she gazed ahead at the rider, usually so easy and graceful in the saddle, but who now kept turning sidewise to look at Sue.
“Sue, I can hit things on the head, too,” said Patricia. “I’d say that our experience has humiliated and awakened him. He must feel to blame. He must be furious with himself because he did not prevent the incident or rescue us from it. That was just bad luck. And then when you defied the men and rode off for help—he’ll never get over that.”
“Why not, Patricia?” inquired Sue with slow-dawning smile.
“He liked you before, but now he adores you,” replied Patricia quickly.
“You like Nels, don’t you, and you’re on his side?” said Sue soberly, her eyes glinting with fun. “Reckon that is going to be bad for me. Shore I’ll find it hard to hold out against you both.”
“Sue, why not consider the possibility of not holding out?” asked Patricia. “I’ve known many men and have met hundreds more. This boy seems to be true-blue.”
“Shore he is, right now,” cried Sue bitterly. “But will it last?”
“I’m sure it will, if you make it last.”
Now there were tears in Sue’s eyes and she seemed to be fighting hard to control herself. Patricia divined that the girl wanted and needed sympathy, yet could not bring herself to the point of confession. Despite the unusual situation and the dawning of what portended to be a lasting friendship, the time had been too short for a real exchange of their innermost thoughts.
“Sue, come to me when you’re ready. Now go give Nels a chance to excuse himself for what he feels to be his shortcomings in regard to last night’s adventure.”
She saw Sue spur her horse up beside Nels’s. Soon they were talking earnestly. Then Sue laughed, and Nels looked glumly at his hands. The Texas girl wasn’t giving her admirer too easy a time of relieving what was weighing on his conscience.
But Patricia’s mind soon drifted from them to the grandeur of the scenery through which they were passing. Her tired body did not prevent her from delighting in the wildness and beauty of the forest. They were riding gradually upgrade, through a sunlit, golden-rayed, shadow-barred woodland, inhabited by herds of grazing deer. Most of the graceful creatures stood and watched the cavalcade. Others bounded away or slipped into green thickets. It was no longer a lonely forest. The pines and spruces towered magnificently, spreading gnarled brown branches and spear-pointed silver tips to mingle with each other high above the trail. White banks of snow gleamed in the thick coverts. The air was cool, yet the sun shone hot. And everywhere the perfume of the forest, thick, piny, sweet, and dry, hung like incense between earth and sky.
It was noon when the party arrived at the ranger’s cabin, a small one-room structure of logs, picturesquely located at the foot of a sunny slope above which the great monarchs of the forest towered.
“May I help you off?” asked Eburne, who was at her side before Patricia could swing a leg out of her stirrup. He led the two girls up onto the porch and into the cabin. It was lighted by a door and two windows and it was clean and neat, with red-blanketed bed built of stout aspen poles, a big stone fireplace, rude and smoke-blackened, and a comfortable home-made chair. The peeled log walls were adorned with bleached antlers and some of the biggest pine cones Patricia had ever seen.
“Well, Thad Eburne,” burst out Sue, “you shameless old bachelor housekeeper! How dare you keep a place as spick-and-span, as nice and cosy as this? Shore you defy woman! Beware! Some girl will rope you in and revenge our sex by messing up this dandy place.”
“No such luck for me, Sue,” laughed Eburne, evidently pleased with her compliment. Yet there was a touch of seriousness in his voice. “You and Miss Clay take this cabin. We men will live outdoors. I think it would be a good idea if you young ladies would lie down and sleep for an hour or two.”
“We shore will. I’m daid on my feet,” rejoined Sue heartily.
Eburne went out, saying he would unpack and bring in their bags.
“Patricia, what do you think of this little old cabin in the woods?” asked Sue.
“It’s a revelation to me,” sighed Patri
cia as she sank on the bed and gazed around the room.
“Me too. But don’t get the impression that all western cabins are alike, or ever were like this one. I was born in one, Patricia! I’ve been in many pioneer cabins. You could live in them, eat and sleep, keep warm and dry. But this one is shore different. Why, heah’s a lamp. Books! Magazines! Maps!”
“Sue, your deer stalker does not need a wife,” murmured Patricia with a smile, as she gratefully laid her head back upon the red coverlet.
“Looks that way,” replied Sue meditatively. “But there’s shore many a woman who needs a man like him. Patricia, I’m going to pull off your boots and cover you with a blanket. Then I’ll crawl in beside you.”
To Patricia, Sue’s last words seemed to come from far away. She was sinking into sweet rest when heavy steps roused her. It was the ranger entering to deposit the bags. She tried to open her eyes, but the lids were too heavy. She heard him whisper and Sue’s whispered answer. Then again she drifted away, relaxing in oblivion.
Days had passed, how many Patricia never knew or cared. They flowed by like so many endless, dreamy, golden eons, filled with many activities, many excursions into the purple depths of the canyon, many hours of sitting thoughtfully looking out upon a beautiful world from some point of vantage. A sweet lassitude seemed to fill her spirit. Never, since childhood, had life seemed so uncomplicated, so enchanting. Day after day the sun rose in a cloudless sky and went down in golden and mauve sunsets.
She and Sue with Eburne and the cowboys had roamed the forest and ridden the rim, descended and climbed and explored, watched the troops of deer and listened to the barking squirrels.
The adventures shared and the unplanned freedom of those days meant much to her, but even more precious were the many lonely walks and vigils with the ranger, sometimes through the forest in the rich, thick golden light of morning, but mostly along the wild craggy rim, in the solemn hours of noonday or when the afternoon began to wane, at sunset and dusk, or in the black night before the white moon soared overhead, blanching the canyon into silver mist; and in the dim gray dawn when all that world was saddest and loneliest, or when the sun rose, bursting red, blazing fire, heralding the day and the world and life and love.