CHAPTER 16. HUNTING BIG GAME
In point of fact, Denver's occupation at that moment was precisely whatthey had guessed it to be. He was sitting beside Nora Darling in thegrand stand, explaining to her the fine points of "roping." Mr. BobAustin, commonly known as "Texas," was meanwhile trying to make himselfagreeable to Helen Messiter. Truth to tell, both young women listenedwith divided interest to their admirers. Both of them had heard thestory of the night, and each of them had tucked away in her corsage ascribbled note she wanted to get back to her room and read again. Thatthe pursuit was still on everybody knew, and those on the inside wereaware that the "King," masquerading under the name of Jack Holloway, wasthe active power behind the sheriff stimulating the chase.
It was after the roping had begun, and Austin had been called away totake his turn, that the outlaw chief sauntered along the aisle of thegrand stand to the box in which was seated the mistress of the Lazy D.
"Beautiful mo'ning, isn't it? Delightfully crisp and clear," he said byway of introduction, stopping at her box.
She understood the subtle jeer in his manner, and her fine courage roseto meet it. There was a daring light in her eye, a buoyant challenge inher voice as she answered:
"It is a splendid morning. I'm not surprised you are enjoying it."
"Did I say I was enjoying it?" He laughed as he lifted the bar, cameinto her box and took a seat.
"Of course not. How careless of me! I had forgotten you were in mourningfor a deceased friend."
His dark eyes flashed. "I'll not mourn for him long. He was a mightytrifling fellow, anyhow. Soon as I catch and hang his murderers I'llquit wearing black."
"You may wear out several suits before then," she hit back.
"Don't y'u believe it; when I want a thing I don't quit till it's done."
She met his gaze, and the impact of eyes seemed to shock her physically.The wickedness in him threatened, gloated, dominated. She shivered inthe warm sunlight, and would not have had him know it for worlds.
"Dear me! How confident you talk. Aren't you sometimes disappointed?"
"Temporarily. But when I want a thing I take it in the end."
She knew he was serving notice on her that he meant to win her; andagain the little spinal shiver raced over her. She could not look at hissardonic, evil face without fear, and she could not look away withoutbeing aware of his eyes possessing her. What was the use of courageagainst such a creature as this?
"Yes, I understand you take a good deal that isn't yours," she retortedcarelessly, her eyes on the arena.
"I make it mine when I take it," he answered coolly, admiring thegameness which she wore as a suit of chain armor against his thrusts.
"Isn't it a little dangerous sometimes?" her even voice countered. "Whenyou take what belongs to others you run a risk, don't you?"
"That's part of the rules. Except for that I shouldn't like it so well.I hunt big game, and the bigger the game the more risk. That's why y'uguessed right when y'u said I was enjoying the mo'ning."
"Meaning--your cousin?"
"Well, no. I wasn't thinking of him, though he's some sizable. But I'mhunting bigger game than he is, and I expect to bag it."
She let her scornful eyes drift slowly over him. "I might pretend tomisunderstand you. But I won't. You may have your answer now. I am notafraid of you, for since you are a bully you must be a coward. I saw arattlesnake last week in the hills. It reminded me of some one I haveseen. I'll leave you to guess who."
Her answer drew blood. The black tide raced under the swarthy tan of hisface. He leaned forward till his beady eyes were close to her defiantones. "Y'u have forgotten one thing, Miss Messiter. A rattlesnake cansting. I ask nothing of you. Can't I break your heart without yourloving me? You're only a woman--and not the first I have broken, byGod--"
His slim, lithe body was leaning forward so that it cut off others, andleft them to all intents alone. At a touch of her fingers the handbag inher lap flew open and a little ivory-hilted revolver lay in her hand.
"You may break me, but you'll never bend me an inch."
He looked at the little gun and laughed ironically. "Sho! If y'u shouldhit me with that and I should find it out I might get mad at y'u."
"Did I say it was for you?" she said coldly; and again the shock ofjoined eyes ended in drawn battle.
"Have y'u the nerve?" He looked her over, so dainty and so resolute, sosilken strong; and he knew he had his answer.
His smoldering eyes burned with desire to snatch her to him and rideaway into the hills. For he was a man who lived in his sensations. Hehad won many women to their hurt, but it was the joy of conflict thatmade the pursuit worth while to him; and this young woman, who could sodelightfully bubble with little laughs ready to spill over and was yetpossessed of a spirit so finely superior to the tenderness of her soft,round, maidenly curves, allured him mightily to the attack.
She dropped the revolver back into the bag and shut the clasp with aclick, "And now I think, Mr. Bannister, that I'll not detain you anylonger. We understand each other sufficiently."
He rose with a laugh that mocked. "I expaict to spend quite a bit oftime understanding y'u one of these days. In the meantime this is to ourbetter acquaintance."
Deliberately, without the least haste, he stooped and kissed her beforeshe could rally from the staggering surprise of the intention she readin his eyes too late to elude. Then, with the coolest bravado in theworld, he turned on his heel and strolled away.
Angry sapphires gleamed at him from under the long, brown lashes. Shewas furious, aghast, daunted. By the merest chance she was sitting in acorner of the box, so screened from observation that none could see. Butthe insolence of him, the reckless defiance of all standards of society,shook her even while it enraged her. He had put forth his claim likea braggart, but he had made good with an audacity superb in itseffrontery. How she hated him! How she feared him! The thoughts werewoven inseparably in her mind. Mephisto himself could not have impressedhimself more imperatively than this strutting, heartless master artistin vice.
She saw him again presently down in the arena, for it was his turn toshow his skill at roping. Texas had done well; very well, indeed. He hadmade the throw and tie in thirty-seven seconds, which was two secondsfaster than the record of the previous year. But she knew instinctively,as her fascinated eyes watched the outlaw preparing for the feat, thathe was going to win. He would use his success as a weapon againsther; as a means of showing her that he always succeeded in whatever heundertook. So she interpreted he look he flung her as he waited at thechute for the wild hill steer to be driven into the arena. It takes agood man physically to make a successful roper. He must be possessedof nerve, skill and endurance far out of the ordinary. He must bequick-eyed, strong-handed, nimble of foot, expert of hand and built likea wildcat. So Denver explained to the two young women in the box, andthe one behind him admitted reluctantly that she long, lean, suppleCentaur waiting impassively at the gateway fitted the specifications.
Out flashed the rough-coated hill steer, wild and fleet as a hare,thin and leggy, with muscles of whipcord. Down went the flag, and thestopwatches began to tick off the seconds. Like an arrow the outlaw'spony shot forward, a lariat circling round and round the rider's head.At every leap the cow pony lessened the gap as it pounded forward on theheels of the flying steer.
The loop swept forward and dropped over the horns of the animal. Thepony, with the perfect craft of long practice, swerved to one side witha rush. The dragging rope swung up against the running steer's legs,grew suddenly taut. Down went the steer's head, and next moment its feetwere swept from under it as it went heavily to the ground. Man and horsewere perfect in their team work. As the supple rider slid from the backof the pony it ran to the end of the rope and braced itself to keep theanimal from rising. Bannister leaped on the steer, tie-rope in hand.Swiftly his deft hands passed to and fro, making the necessary loops andknots. Then his hands went into the air. The steer was hog-tied.
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bsp; For a few seconds the judges consulted together. "Twenty-nine seconds,"announced their spokesman, and at the words a great cheer went up.Bannister had made his tie in record time.
Impudently the scoundrel sauntered up to the grand stand, bowedelaborately to Miss Messiter, and perched himself on the fence, where hemight be the observed of all observers. It was curious, she thought,how his vanity walked hand in hand with so much power and force. He wasreally extraordinarily strong, but no debutante's self-sufficiency couldhave excelled his. He was so frankly an egotist that it ceased to be aweakness.
Back in her room at the hotel an hour later Helen paced up and downunder a nervous strain foreign to her temperament. She was afraid; forthe first time in her life definitely afraid. This man pitted againsther had deliberately divorced his life from morality. In him lay noappeal to any conscience court of last resort. But the terror of thiswas not for herself principally, but for her flying lover. With hisindubitable power, backed by the unpopularity of the sheepman in thiscattle country, the King of the Bighorn could destroy his cousin ifhe set himself to do so. Of this she was convinced, and her convictioncarried a certainty that he had the will as well as the means. If hehad lacked anything in motive she herself had supplied one. For she wasafraid that this villain had read her heart.
And as her hand went fluttering to her heart she found small comfortin the paper lying next it that only a few hours before had brought herjoy. For at any moment a messenger might come in to tell her that thewriter of it had been captured and was to be dealt with summarily infrontier fashion. At best her lover and her friend were but fugitivesfrom justice. Against them were arrayed not only the ruffian followersof their enemy, but also the lawfully constituted authorities of thecounty. Even if they should escape to-day the net would tighten on them,and they would eventually be captured.
For the third time since coming to Wyoming Helen found refuge in tears.
Wyoming: A Story of the Outdoor West Page 15