CHAPTER XXVI
THE OTHER WOMAN
At the door of the cabin Jennie greeted her caller effusively. AliceEndicott, who had insisted upon dressing, had finished her breakfast andwas sitting propped up among the pillows on the bed.
"This is Janet McWhorter, our neighbour," introduced Jennie, taking thegirl by the hand and leading her to the side of the bed, "an' this isMrs.--Mrs.--why, do you know I can't call your married name to save me.I never seen yer husban'--an' he's always spoke of in these parts as'the pilgrim.'"
"Endicott," smiled Alice, as her glance noted with swift approval thegirl's riding boots, her corduroy skirt, her grey flannel shirt, thescarf of burnt orange, and the roll-brim Stetson--noted, too, thesix-gun and the belt of yellow cartridges. Each well-appointed detailbespoke the girl of the open range. But the Eastern woman perceivedinstantly that the gliding grace of her walk was never acquired in thesaddle, nor were the well modulated tones of the full, throaty voicewith which she acknowledged the introduction, a product of the cattlerange.
"I am very glad to meet you--Mrs. Endicott." Their hands met, and asAlice looked into the girl's eyes, she wondered at the peculiar glancethat flashed from their blue-black depths. It was not exactly a glanceof hate, but rather of veiled antagonism, of distrust--almost ofcontempt. Alice's own eyes had been frankly friendly, but as theyencountered the look, they fell before the blue-black eyes, and sheturned appealingly toward Jennie. But the woman did not notice. Shechattered on:
"Ontil yesterday, I ain't seen Mrs. Endicott sence that night, it's ayear back, when Tex Benton brung you to the hotel in Wolf River an'wanted the room--" Janet McWhorter sat down abruptly in a chair besidethe table and became suddenly interested in fingering the rims of thecartridges in her belt. Jennie continued: "An' I jest give him a goodblessin', 'cause I don't trust no cowpuncher--or didn't then--ontil heexplained how it was. An' then he went away, an' Old Bat come an' tuckyou off, an' we heard afterwards how you an' Bat, an' the pilgrim an'Tex hit down through the bad lands an' crossed the river, an' you an'the pilgrim was married in Timber City----"
Alice gave a little cry: "Oh, and he's there now! Worrying his heartout! He don't know where I am nor what's become of me! Oh, I've got togo to him! I've got to get word to him, somehow!"
Janet McWhorter looked up quickly, the blue-black eyes resting in franksurprise on the woman's face. Her husband! Why should she be soconcerned about her husband? Must get back to him! Was she tired of theTexan already? Had her experience with Purdy taken the romance out ofthe adventure? Or, was the concern assumed for the benefit of herhearers? No. The girl decided the concern was not assumed--it was a veryreal concern--and there were real tears in the woman's eyes.
Jennie sought to soothe her: "There you go again, deary. We'll git youback to him as soon as ever we can. But there ain't no way with theriver where it's at. But, tell us how come Purdy to have you tied up,an' what's Tex Benton got to do with it--an' your man in Timber City? Ibe'n most bustin' to hear about it."
"Oh, it all happened so suddenly--I hardly know myself. It seems likesome horrid dream--some fantastic nightmare. We came to Timber City, Winand I, to be there on our anniversary. Win is going to buy a ranch, andwhile he was talking business I rode out on the trail a little way, andwhen I returned it was dark, and there was a crowd of men in front ofthe saloon and they were shooting. And one of them told me there was aman inside--a Texan. Somehow, I just knew it was Tex--our Tex--the onewe came to know so well and to love a year ago. So I told them to stopshooting and I would go in and try to straighten things out. Tex hadbeen drinking a little and he was obstinate. He had defied the marshalto arrest him and he absolutely refused to submit to arrest. I don'tblame him much. The marshal is a fool and he thought, or pretended tothink, that Tex was some terrible desperado, and he intended to hold himin jail indefinitely until he could look up his record.
"Tex managed to get out of the building and he jumped onto a horse anddashed right through the crowd, sending them sprawling in alldirections. As he started down the trail they began to shoot at him, andmen began to mount horses to ride after him. I knew they would killhim--and what had he done? Nothing! Except shoot a few bottles andthings and break some windows--and they would have killed him for that!
"I knew they wouldn't dare shoot me, so before they could get onto theirhorses, I swung into the trail behind him so they would have to stopshooting. On and on I dashed through the darkness. At first I could hearthe sounds of pursuit, yells and curses and shots, but my horse wasfaster than theirs and the sounds died away. He had almost reached theriver when I overtook him. His horse had gone lame and we barely madethe ferry-boat ahead of the mob. He tried to send me back as he led hishorse onto the ferry--but I knew that the moment he shoved off fromshore those fiends would kill him--he wouldn't have had a chance. Sobefore he could prevent me, I followed him onto the boat and cut therope that held it and we drifted out into the river--but the men on thebank didn't dare to shoot. He would have put back then if he could, butthe current was too strong and it carried us farther and farther fromshore.
"Then a great tree drifted down against us, and to save the boat frombeing swamped, Tex seized the ax and hacked the cable in two. The treehit his head and knocked him senseless for a time. I bandaged it thebest I could by the light of the lightning flashes, and we drifted on,fighting the flood and the trees. The boat sprang a leak and we bailedand bailed, and the next thing I knew he was shaking me, and day wasjust breaking, and we were close to shore. And he tied the rope to thesaddle of my horse and made him jump overboard and we followed. That'sthe last I remember--jumping into the water--until I awoke, it must havebeen hours later, to find myself tied--and I got loose, and saw LongBill Kearney beside the river, and I flew back to the horses, and justas I was about to escape, there stood that unspeakable Purdy, grinningat me." Alice paused and pressed her hands to her eyes as if to keep outthe sight, "And, oh, the things he told me--the awful things--thethreats--the promises--that were worse than the threats. I must havelost consciousness again--for the next thing I remember--I was here inthis room, and you were bending over me."
The two listeners had sat spellbound by the narrative and at itsconclusion, Janet McWhorter leaned forward and took one of Alice'shands in both of hers. And when Alice looked again into the girl's eyeslifted to her own, she read something akin to adoration in their depths.
The girl's lips moved: "And you did that--risked yourlife--everything--to save his life--to keep him from being shot!"
"It wasn't anything," protested Alice. "It was the least I could do. Herisked his life for ours--Win's and mine--last year--and--why, I lovethat boy--like a sister. I never had a brother and--I need one."
"And maybe he needs--a sister," murmured Janet softly. And at the wordsAlice Endicott glanced swiftly into the girl's face, and her eyes glowedsuddenly with the light of great understanding. Her own troubles wereforgotten, and into her heart welled a mighty gladness. She pressed thehands that held her own.
"Do you know him?" she whispered.
The girl nodded: "Yes--a little. He borrowed one of our horses--and Irode with him when he went back to get you and bring you to the ranch.And I rode to the edge of the bad lands with him when he took Purdy'strail. And then he sent me back."
"Then, he _is_ safe! Oh, I'm glad--glad! Purdy told me he had drowned,but I didn't believe him. I knew he would come to my rescue." She pausedand her face clouded, "but, now, I am safe and he is in danger. Purdymay kill him----"
"Don't you go frettin' about that, deary," broke in Jennie. "If they'sany killin' to be done between them two, Tex'll do it. Purdy's a gunmanall right, but he'll never git Tex. Tex is the best man--an' Purdy knowsit--an' his kind ain't never no good when they're buffaloed."
"But, he might shoot him from ambush!"
"He better do it all to one shot, then. 'Cause, believe me, Tex, he'llhit the ground a-shootin'! An' now you two make yerselves to home whileI run out an' tell Joe--I'm just a-bustin' to te
ll him an' he'll want toknow."
As the woman hurried toward the stable, Alice patted the girl's hands."He's splendid," she whispered, "splendid!" Janet's eyes did not meethers, and she continued, softly: "He's just a boy--impulsive, lovable.And yet, at times he's so very much a man. And there doesn't seem to beanything he can't do. Always, no matter what the emergency, he does theright thing at the right time. And he has another side--once when Iventured to say that Corot would have loved to paint a certain sunset wewere watching, he quietly informed me that Corot could not have paintedit--could not have got into the feel of it--and I knew that he wasright."
"He gets drunk," said the girl, without raising her eyes, "I could hatea man that gets drunk."
"I didn't say he is a saint. But I happen to know that when he makes uphis mind not to drink, no power on earth can make him take even asingle drink."
"He wouldn't drink at the ranch--I offered him a drink because I thoughthe needed one--and he did--but he refused it."
"Do you know why?"
The girl shook her head.
"Because he promised me he wouldn't take a drink until after he hadtalked with my husband. Win wants to see him on business. Wants topersuade him to keep the place he's held for a year, as foreman of the YBar. Win is going to buy the Y Bar."
"The Y Bar!"
"Yes, do you know the Y Bar?"
The girl nodded slowly: "I was born there, and lived there the most ofmy life. Dad moved over here onto Red Sand while I was away at school.The Y Bar is--is like home to me."
"Mr. Colston says he's the best foreman he ever had. You should hear himspeak of him--of his taming a great wild stallion they call the RedKing----"
"The Red King!" cried Janet, her eyes wide with excitement, "I know theRed King--I've seen him often on the range. He's the most wonderfulhorse in the world. They said nobody could ride him. Once or twice mentried it--and the Red King killed them. And, did Tex ride him?"
Alice nodded: "Yes, he rode him--tamed him so the great wild horsewould come when he whistled. But he wouldn't brand him. And then, onenight, he leaped onto his back without saddle or bridle and rode himstraight out onto the open range--and turned him loose!"
The girl's eyes were shining: "Oh, I'm glad--glad! Wait till you see theRed King, and you will be glad, too. He's the embodiment of everythingthat's wild, and free, and strong. I should hate to think ofhim--branded--labouring under the saddle like a common cow-horse."
"That's just what the Texan thought--so he turned him out onto the rangeagain. It was a great big thing to do--and it was done in a great bigway--by a man with a great big poetic soul." There was a long silenceduring which the little clock ticked incessantly, Alice spoke again,more to herself than to the girl: "What Tex needs is some strongincentive, something worth while, something to work for, to direct hismarvellous energy toward--he needs someone to love, and who will lovehim. What he needs is not a sister--it's a wife."
"Why didn't you marry him, then?" flashed the girl.
Alice smiled: "He never asked me," she answered, "and I couldn't havemarried him, if he had. Because, really, I've always loved Win--foryears and years."
"Maybe he won't ask--anyone else, either. If he asks me, I won't marryhim. I won't marry anybody!" She concluded with a defiant toss of thehead.
"I certainly shouldn't either, if I felt that way. And if he should askyou, you stick to it, or you will spoil my plans----"
"Your--plans?" questioned the girl.
"Yes, I've got the grandest scheme. I haven't told a soul. When we getsettled on the Y Bar I'm going to send for a friend of mine--she's aperfectly beautiful girl, and she's just as adorable as she isbeautiful. And I'm going to make her come and pay us a long visit. I'm agreat believer in propinquity, and especially out here----"
Janet sniffed audibly: "She'd probably get lost the first thing----"
"That's it, exactly!" cried Alice enthusiastically. "That's just whatI'm counting on--and who would find her? Why Tex, of course! There youhave it--all the ingredients of a first-class romance. Beautiful maidenlost on the range--forlorn, homesick, wretched, scared. Enterhero--rescues maiden--if I could only work in a villain of somekind--but maybe one will turn up. Anyway, even without a villain it'salmost sure to work--don't you think?"
Alice repressed a desire to smile as she noted the girl's flushed face,"I--I think it's perfectly horrid! It's a--what do they call it? Aregular frame-up! Suppose he don't love the girl? Suppose he don't wantto marry her?"
Alice laughed: "Well, then you may rest assured he won't marry her! Hewon't marry anyone he don't want to, and as the Irish say, 'by the sametoken,' when he finds the girl he wants to marry, he'll marry her. If Iwere a girl and he wanted to marry me, and I didn't want to marry him,I'd jump onto a horse and I'd ride and ride and ride till I got clearout of the cattle country."
Janet stood up and drew on her gloves. "Well, I must be going. It'snearly noon. Good-bye. Glad to have met you, I'm sure."
"Good-bye," called Alice, as the girl stepped from the door, "and whenwe get settled at the Y Bar, do come over and see us--make us a nicelong visit. Please!"
"Thank you, so much! I certainly shall--come to see you at the Y Bar."
Alice Endicott smiled as she watched the girl stamp away toward thecorral.
Declining the pressing invitation of both Jennie and Cinnabar Joe tostay for dinner, Janet mounted and rode across the creek.
"Well, I never!" exclaimed Jennie, as she watched her out of sight, "sheacted like she's mad! An' here I thought them two would hit it off fine.Ain't that jest like women? I'm one myself, but--Gee, they're funny!"
Out on the bench Janet spurred the bay mare into a run and headedstraight for the bad lands. A jack-rabbit jumped from his bed almostunder her horse's hoofs, and a half-dozen antelope raised their headsand gazed at her for a moment before scampering off, their white tailslooking for all the world like great bunches of down bobbing over theprairie--but Janet saw none of these. In her mind's eye was the pictureof a slenderly built cowboy who sat his horse close beside hers, whosegloved hand slipped from her sleeve and gripped her fingers in a strongfirm clasp. His hat rested upon the edge of a bandage that was boundtightly about his head--a bandage bordered with tatting. His lips movedand he was speaking to her, "For God's sake, don't hinder--help!" Hisfine eyes, drawn with worry and pain, looked straight into hers--and intheir depths she read--"Oh, I'm coming--Tex!" she cried aloud, "I mustfind him--I must! If he knows she's safe--maybe he will--will stophunting for Purdy! Oh, if anything should--happen to him--now!"
"Little fool of an Eastern girl!" she exploded, a few miles farther on."If she did come out here and get lost and if he did find her, andif--she'd never make him happy, even if he did marry her! But that Mrs.Endicott--I like her." She pulled up abruptly upon the very edge of thebad lands and gazed out over the pink and black and purple waste. Herbrow drew into a puzzled frown. "I wonder," she whispered, "I wonder ifshe _did_ know I was just crazy about her Texan?" And, with the questionunanswered, she touched the bay mare with her spurs and headed her downa long black ridge that extended far into the bad lands.
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