CHAPTER THREE
Katherine Glendon stood outside the door of the Circle Cross ranchhouse. On every side the view was blocked by the tall Galiuro Mountainsabove which loomed a sky of intense, glaring blue without a cloud tosoften it--a sky as hard and defiant as the mountains that stared backat it; a masculine sky--a masculine country.
For eight years she had called four crude adobe rooms home. Other womenhad attempted to live in the Hot Springs Canon. But the isolation wastoo oppressive, and one by one the squatters drifted away, leavingdeserted ranches to testify to their defeat, until only the Glendons andold Doctor King, three miles distant, remained.
The morning meal was over, and Juan led a saddled pony from the stableto a hitching-post in front of the house. A tall, heavily set manslouched out, and the Mexican paused to ask; "Shall I saddle my pony,senor?"
"Not now," Glendon replied. "I want you to mend the fence in the lowerpasture. When you get done you can follow me."
"Bueno, senor!" The man tied the pony and went back to the barn, andGlendon dropped on the steps of the porch, scowling at the ground.Accustomed to these spells of moodiness, his wife made no attempt torouse him, knowing it would only increase his surliness.
A child appeared at the side of the house; glanced quickly from the manto the woman and then, seeing his mother smile, made his way quietly toher side as she seated herself on the steps. He held a book in his hand,and as he leaned against her knee, with her arm about his shoulder,turned the pages slowly, looking at her occasionally but uttering noword.
The sound of hoofs on the road caused the three to start curiously, forit was not very often that a visitor passed the Circle Cross. Only on afew occasions during the past eight years had anyone except a cowboy ora prospector entered the house. Once Doctor King had ridden down atintervals, but Glendon's aggressive disposition made these callsunpleasant for all of them.
Katherine, knowing her husband was in one of his ugliest tempers, wassorry when she recognized the white-haired old doctor, who loped hisgrey pony up to the gate, smiling as he dismounted and slipped his reinsover the post.
"Hello, everybody!" he called cheerily. "A day like this makes a manglad to be alive, even if he is old enough to die."
Glendon stared at the ground, making no response. Doctor King, with acomprehensive look, passed him by and smilingly held out his hand toKatherine, who came down the steps while Donnie ran ahead of her,holding up his book.
"It's about Sir Galahad and the Holy Grail," the child began eagerly,"and there's a picture--"
"His mother is always filling his head with a lot of trash," growledGlendon, and the boy shrank back, the happy light dying from his littleface; but the doctor smiled down at him as he took the book and turnedover the pages.
"It's just the right kind of a story for Donnie to read," asserted theold man warmly. "This world would be a happier, better place it we allhad the strength to live up to our Vision."
Turning to Mrs. Glendon, he continued: "I can only say 'howdy andgood-bye' today. I'm on my way to see a couple of sick people on the SanPedro River, but will stop when I come back in three or four days. Bythe way," he said to Glendon, "when I was in town last week, there wasa telegram from Fort Apache to Fort Grant saying that old Geronimo andabout a hundred and twenty-five Chiricahua Apaches have jumped thereservation and the troops are out after them."
"Do you suppose there is any real danger?" asked Katherine, who hadlived too long in Arizona to be frightened at rumors.
"No one can count on an Apache. He's a twin-brother to Mark Twain'sjack-rabbit--'Here he comes--there he goes!' He knows that Army officersare tangled with red tape and unable to use their own judgment inpursuing him and takes advantage of that fact. However, you know thereis one safe place in Arizona and that is the Hot Springs; because theApaches are superstitious about the water. The house is safer than anyfortress for that reason. I've lived there twenty-five years and neverbeen bothered by them. Even Indians employed as Government scouts havethe fear, and will not camp within a mile of the Springs, I've been toldby officers and interpreters. I wish you folks lived a bit closer tome."
He rose as he spoke. "Well, I'll stop on my way back, Mrs. Glendon. It'shardly neighbourly, rushing off this way, but you know a doctor is nothis own master. Take my advice, young man," he added to Donnie, "neverbe a doctor, whatever you may do. Why, just think how ungrateful peopleare! You get them well, or try to help them, and when they see you theystick out their tongues at you!"
Donnie laughed, and King continued: "I don't believe those people on theSan Pedro would mind if I took time to give you a ride. You see, alittle bird told me that today was your birthday, and we haven't had aride for a long time."
Placing the book in his mother's hand, the boy hastened to the old greyhorse and was lifted up in front of the saddle. Doctor King mounted andslipped his arm about the little fellow as the pony started at an easylope down the road towards Hot Springs lying south of the Circle Crossin the opposite direction from the San Pedro River.
"So you are six years old today?" quizzed the Doctor. "Getting a big boynow, and it won't take many birthdays for you to be a man."
"Marmee gave me a book." Donnie spoke freely, now that he was not in thevicinity of his father. "She made a cake for me with white icing and sixlittle red candles; and Juan bought a mouthorgan for me when he was inWillcox, and he is going to show me how to play on it when Daddy isn'thome, so the noise won't make him nervous. Daddy is going to JacksonFlats, and Marmee and I are going to read the book tonight. We lit thecandles and cut the cake this morning, so Daddy and Juan could see itand have some in their lunch. I'll give you a piece of it when we getback home. It was awful pretty."
The doctor's hand reached over the boy's shoulder. "You can't guess whatI have in it," he challenged, and Donnie shook his head slowly.
"Open my hand, and findings shall be keepings," bade the old man.
After several futile attempts, the fingers relaxed and Donnie gave a cryof delight. It was a penknife with four bright blades--a real penknifelike those men carried--the first knife he had ever owned in his life.
"Oh!" the child's surprise could find no other word for a few seconds,as he surveyed his treasure; then he lifted his happy face. "I alwayskiss Marmee when she 'sprises me," he said shyly, "but Daddy says mendon't slobber."
The grey horse came to a halt and began nibbling contentedly at thebunch grass between the rocks. He was accustomed to these halts whenDonnie and the doctor rode and talked of many things. When one is youngin the world it is easy to clasp hands with those who are nearing theborder of another world. Together they see life in the same light. Youthhas not learned to place a false value on imitations and age has turnedfrom them in disgust. So the child and the old man understood eachother.
"Once upon a time, Donnie, many years ago, I had a little boy, and whenhe was six years old I gave him that knife, and when I gave it to him,he kissed me. Then, afterward, we made a wonderful boat with sails. WhenI come back from the River, you and I will make a boat like it to sailin the big pond at the Springs."
The child looked up, then his arms went about the neck of the old manand their lips met.
As the grey horse turned back toward the Circle Cross, Donnie was silentfor a few minutes, then asked, "Where is your little boy, now?"
King's face bent over the child's curls, his chin rested on his chest,his eyes were dim with recollection, as he answered gently, "He wentaway from me, Donnie."
"Did he die?"
"Yes; and that was when he gave his knife for them to give to me when Igot back home."
They neared the porch where Katherine stood talking earnestly to herhusband. Doctor King let the child slip from the saddle without himselfdismounting. Donnie ran to show his new gift.
"What a perfectly splendid knife!" exclaimed his mother, opening theblades. "Why! It has four blades!"
Gratified, the child turned uncertainly to his father, holding out theknife for his inspecti
on and approval. "See, Daddy!"
Glendon impatiently brushed away the hand and knife. Katherine's eyesdimmed with sudden tears at the crestfallen face of the boy and she heldout her hand again for the knife. King's eyes flashed angrily, and hechecked the horse he was riding away.
"Marmee, can't I give doctor a piece of my birthday cake?" begged thechild, and Katherine with hearty assent went into the house, followed bythe boy. In a few seconds they emerged, Donnie proudly bearing a bit ofcake crudely decorated with white icing and a tiny red candle that hadburnt low. No words had been exchanged between the two men in theinterval.
Doctor King regarded the cake with admiration; ate it and was loud inhis praise as the finest birthday cake he had ever tasted, and Donnie'sface lighted up once more.
Glendon paid no attention to this episode and moved to the hitching-postwhere his pony waited. He unfastened the tie-rope without uttering aword. Doctor King studied the sullen face.
"Which way are you going?" he asked pleasantly as Glendon swung on thepony and dug spurs into the animal's sides, yanking viciously at thecruel Spanish bit as the pony started.
"Jackson Flats," was the curt answer.
"Do you think it wise? This report is reliable."
"Back tomorrow afternoon."
"I'll ride as far as the forks of the trail with you," said King,ignoring the surliness of the other man and congratulating himself uponhaving an opportunity to broach a topic that had occupied his thoughtsfor many months.
Glendon's look was not inviting, but side by side, the two men rode intothe Hot Springs Canon toward the San Pedro River. The wagon roadterminated at the stable of the Circle Cross, and from there merged intoa narrow, rocky trail which twisted zig-zag at the bottom of the canyonfor five miles, then divided. One fork of the trail struck up the sideof the mountain and led to Jackson Flats, twenty odd miles distant; theother followed the bed of the dry creek to the San Pedro River, fifteenmiles away. In the rainy season the sandy canyon became a raging mountainstream that was impassable.
The two men carried on a perfunctory conversation at intervals, thedoctor trying to find a suitable opening that he might not antagonizethe other and so defeat his purpose; while Glendon, submerged in hismood, replied in monosyllables. King looked at the younger man indisgusted anger; but remembering the woman and child, restrained thebitter words that burned on his tongue.
"I wish it were not necessary for me to make this trip just now," thedoctor said, assuming a casual tone, "but I cannot put it off anylonger. I was thinking this morning, Glendon, that it might be wise tohave Mrs. Glendon and Donnie stay in Willcox until things are moresettled."
"If I kept them there till rumours of Apaches are settled, they wouldnever come home at all," retorted Glendon. "You know as well as I dothere is less danger when the Indians are reported off the reservationthan when it is supposed they are quiet. Besides, they will be in toomuch of a hurry just now, trying to get across the Mexican border beforethe Tenth Cavalry catches them. They won't be up to any deviltry for awhile."
King could not help acknowledging the truth in Glendon's words, but asense of uneasiness oppressed him.
They reached the parting of the trails. "So long!" muttered Glendon, butKing laid a detaining hand on his shoulder. Glendon turned his bloodshoteyes on the old man and hitched his shoulder from the wrinkled hand.
"Glendon, there's something I have wanted to say to you for a long time.I'm an old man, and being a doctor gives me many privileges, you know."
Glendon's lips tightened. He made no reply as he slouched in his saddle,slapping his leather 'chaps' with his quirt. King hesitated a second andthen went on speaking in his kindly voice.
"My life has been long, Glendon, and my trail has led over many roughplaces. I'm almost at the end of it now. When one looks back, one cansee more clearly. You are just starting life. It is easy to avoid theplaces where others have stumbled, if someone points them out. You havea splendid wife and a fine boy; the future holds many possibilities foryou--possibilities that I and many other men envy. Glendon, don't sellyour birthright for a mess of pottage."
The other man scowled, but was silent, and King hoped that his wordswere reaching the man's heart.
"Let me help you," pleaded the doctor eagerly. "I understand what astruggle it is to overcome one's self. Years ago I threw away mychances, and I know the cost. I saw friends avoid me, and I did notcare. My patients deserted me, because I was not to be relied upon; mywife and boy were taken from me while I was too drunk to know they weredead. My father pleaded with me and I cursed him. Then I became a tramp,drifting from place to place, my only ambition in life to get whiskey.The train crew threw me off a freight car one day and I wandered aroundin Arizona, penniless and friendless, until I was able to conquer myselfand find my lost manhood. Thirty years ago!" His head sunk and his voicetrembled as he added, "Nothing can ever give back the things I threwaway, nor can I undo the suffering I caused those who loved me best. Isaw the Vision, but had not the strength to follow it."
Glendon laughed sneeringly; "So, like most reformed characters, who havehad their own fling to their heart's content, you want to drag everyoneby the hair of the head into the particular straight and narrow path youselect for him. Thank you for your interesting sermon, King. I preferstumbling alone. I'm perfectly able to look out for myself. By your ownadmission I couldn't place much confidence in your assistance.Hereafter, mind your own business and keep away from me and my family!"He jerked his pony toward the upper trail, and kicked it with hisspurred heels. As it snorted and jumped, Glendon sawed its mouth withthe reins.
Doctor King watched this unnecessary brutality, then moved his ponybeside Glendon's. The man's eyes gleamed with fury, but the old man madeone more appeal.
"Glendon, think of your wife and boy, just a moment! You are crushingall the happiness from their lives. It is taking advantage of theirhelplessness. Only a coward would do that!"
King had said more than he intended; but now that he had spoken his truethoughts he gazed steadily into Glendon's bloodshot eyes. He did notflinch as Glendon wheeled his horse against the grey pony. Leaning overthe doctor, the other man volleyed a stream of oaths. The doctor's faceexpressed only pity. Glendon realized it, and his fury broke all bounds.He lifted the heavy leather whip that hung on his wrist and struckviciously at King's face. The grey pony leaped in fright, so the blowglanced to the old man's shoulder. Glendon raised the whip a secondtime, then let it fall by his side. There was no resentment in thedoctor's face, only infinite pity as he held out his hand.
"Glendon, I understand. I struck and cursed the man who tried to wakeme. It was my own father."
"You mind your own business after this," snarled Glendon. "I'm sick ofyour meddling, posing and preaching. I won't let you, Katherine, oranyone else dictate to me about what I shall do. Damn the whole bunch ofyou, anyhow!"
His pony scrambled up the steep trail under the sharp prods of the spursand the lashing of Glendon's whip. Doctor King looked after him, sadly.
"The same old road--each one stumbling over the same roughplaces--learning only from his own bruises and wounds. God pity thebroken hearts of those who commit no sin save loving."
The peculiar foreboding that had oppressed him all day, returned morestrongly. King wondered whether he had better retrace the trail and putoff his trip till tomorrow. Then, recalling that Juan was at the CircleCross with Katherine and Donnie, and that Glendon would return the nextevening, while Leon's sick baby needed sorely the doctor's care, hefinally headed the grey pony toward the San Pedro determined to make thetrip as quickly as possible.
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