Out of the Depths: A Romance of Reclamation

  CHAPTER XI

  SELF-DEFENSE

  Nothing more was said about the trip to town until late Wednesdayevening. As Knowles slammed shut his book and the young men rose towithdraw to the bunkhouse, he asked Gowan casually: "Got those harnesshawsses in the corral?"

  "Brought 'em in this afternoon. Greased the buckboard and overhauledthe harness. Everything's in shape," answered the puncher.

  Knowles merely nodded. Yet in the morning, immediately after the usualearly breakfast, Gowan went up to the corral and returned driving alively pair of broncos to the old buckboard. Ashton happened to comearound the house as Knowles stepped from the front door. The cowmanwas followed by his daughter, attired in a new riding habit and afashionable hat with a veil.

  "You're just in time, Lafe," said Knowles. "Saddle a couple of hawssesand follow Chuckie to town. I misdoubt that seat is cramped for three,and a baby to boot."

  "But I--it looks quite wide to me," said Ashton, flushing and drawingback.

  "You know the size of Blake and his lady--I don't," replied thecowman. "Just the same, I want you to go along with Chuckie. There'snot a puncher in this section would harm her, drunk or sober; but thefellows that come in and go out on the railroad are sometimes anothersort."

  "Of course I--if necessary," stammered Ashton. "Yet may I ask you toexcuse me? In the event of trouble, Mr. Gowan, you know--"

  "Great snakes!" called Gowan from the buckboard. "Needn't ask _me_ togo, twice!"

  "Can't spare you today," said Knowles, his keen eyes fixed on Ashtonin unconcealed amazement.

  It was inconceivable. For the first time in his career as an employe,the tenderfoot was attempting to evade a duty,--a duty that compriseda fifty-mile ride in company with Miss Isobel Knowles!

  The girl looked at Ashton with a perfect composure that betrayed notrace of her feelings.

  "I'm sure there's no reason whatever why Lafe should go, if he doesnot wish to," she remarked. "Any of my hawsses will lead to thebuckboard."

  "He's going to town with you," said Knowles, his jaw setting hard withstubborn determination.

  "Why, of course, Mr. Knowles, if you really think it necessary,"reluctantly acquiesced Ashton. He put his hand into his pocket,shrugged, and asked in a hesitating manner: "May I request--I haveonly a small amount left from that five dollars. If you consider thereare any wages owing me--Going to town, you know."

  "Lord!" said the cowman. "So that's what you stuck on. 'Fraid ofrunning out of change with a lady along. Here's the balance of yourfirst month's wages, and more, if you want it."

  He drew out a fat wallet and began counting out banknotes.

  "Oh, no, not so many," said Ashton. "I wish only what you consider asowing to me now."

  "You'll take an even hundred," ordered Knowles, forcing the money onhim. "A man doesn't feel just right in town unless he's well heeled.Only don't show more than a ten at a time in the saloon."

  "You have chosen me to act as your daughter's escort," repliedAshton.

  Quick to catch the inference of his remark, Isobel flashed him a lookof approval, but called banteringly as she darted out to thebuckboard: "Better move, if you expect to get near enough to escortme, this side of Stockchute."

  Gowan sprang down to hand her into the buckboard. She took the reinsfrom him and spoke to the fidgetting broncos. They plunged forward andstarted off on a lope. Ashton perceived that she did not intend towait for him. He caught Gowan's look of mingled exultance and envy,and dashed for the corral. Rocket was outside, but at his call trottedto meet him, whinnying for his morning's lump of sugar. Ashton flungon saddle and bridle, and slipped inside the corral to rope his ownpony. Haste made him miss the two first throws. At last he noosed thepony, and slapped on the girl's saddle and bridle.

  As he raced off, pounding the pony with his rope to keep him alongsideRocket, Knowles waved to him from the house. He had saddled up in lessthan twice the time that Gowan could have done it,--which was a recordfor a tenderfoot. He waved back, but his look was heavy despite theexcitement of the pursuit.

  He expected to overtake Isobel in a few minutes. This he could havedone had he been able to give Rocket free rein. But he had to holdback for the slower-gaited pony. Also, the girl had more of a startthan he had at first realized, and she did her best to hold thehandicap. Hitched to the light buckboard, her young broncos could haverun a good part of the way to Stockchute. She was far out on the flatbefore she at last tired of the wild bumping over ruts and sagebrushroots, and pulled her horses down to a walk.

  "I could have kept ahead clear across to the hills," she flung back athim as he galloped up.

  "You shouldn't have been so reckless!" he reproached. "Every momentI've been dreading to see you bounced out."

  "That's the fun of it," she declared, her cheeks aglow and eyessparkling with delight.

  "But the road is so rough!" he protested. "Wouldn't it be easier foryou to ride my pony? He's like a rocking-chair."

  "No," she refused. But she smiled, by no means ill pleased at hissolicitude for her comfort. She halted the broncos, and saidcordially: "Tie the saddle hawsses to the back rail, and pile in. Wemay as well be sociable."

  He hastened to accept the invitation. She moved over to the left sideof the seat and relinquished the lines to him. With most young ladiesthis would have been a matter-of-course proceeding; from soaccomplished a horsewoman it was a tactful compliment. He appreciatedit at its full value, and his mood lightened. They rattled gaylyalong, on across the flats, up and down among the pinyon clad hills,and through the sage and greasewood of the valleys.

  He had thought the country a desolate wilderness; but now it seemeda Garden of Eden. Never had the girl's loveliness been moreintoxicating, never had her manner to him been more charming andgracious. He could not resist the infection of her high spirits. Forthe greater part of the trip he gave himself over to the delight ofher merry eyes and dimpling, rosy cheeks, her adorable blushes andgay repartee.

  All earthly journeys and joys have an ending. The buckboard creaked upover the round of the last and highest hill, and they came in sight ofthe little shack town down across the broad valley. Though five milesaway, every house, every telegraph pole, even the thin lines of therailroad rails appeared through the dry clear air as distinct as aminiature painting. Miles beyond, on the far side of the valley,uprose the huge bulk of Split Peak, with its white-mantled shouldersand craggy twin peaks.

  But neither Ashton nor Isobel exclaimed on this magnificent view ofvalley and peak. Each fell silent and gazed soberly down at the dozenscattered shacks that marked the end of their outward trip. Rapidlythe gravity of Ashton's face deepened to gloom and from gloom todejection. The horses would have broken into a lope on the down grade.He held them to a walk.

  Chancing to gaze about and see his face, the girl started from herbright-eyed daydream. "Why, Lafe! what is it?" she inquired. "You lookas you did the other day, when you brought the mail."

  "It's--everything!" he muttered.

  "As what?" she queried.

  He shrugged hopelessly, hesitated, and drew out the roll of billsforced on him by Knowles. "Tell me, please, just how much of this ismine, at your father's usual rate of wages, and deducting the realvalue of that calf."

  "Why, I can't just say, offhand," she replied. "But why should you--"

  "I shall tell you as soon as--but first--" He drew out his watch."This cost me two hundred and fifty dollars. It is the only thing Ihave worth trading. Would you take it in exchange for Rocket and thebalance of this hundred dollars over and above what is due me?"

  "Why--no, of course, I wouldn't think of such a thing. It would beabsurd, cheating yourself that way. Anyhow, Rocket is your horse toride, as long as you wish to."

  "But I would like him for my own. How about trading him for my ponyand the wages due me?"

  "Well, that wouldn't be an unfair bargain. Your hawss is the best cowpony of the two."

  "It is very kind of you to agree, Miss Chuckie! Here is all th
emoney; and here is the watch. I wish you to accept it from me asa--memento."

  "Mr. Ashton!" she exclaimed, indignantly widening the space betweenthem as much as the seat would permit.

  "Please!" he begged. "Don't you understand? I am going away."

  "Going away?" she echoed.

  "Yes."

  "But--why?"

  "Because he is coming."

  "Mr. Blake?"

  "Yes. I cannot stay after he--"

  "But why not? Has he injured you? Are you afraid of him?"

  "No. I'm afraid that you--" Ashton's voice sank to a whisper--"thatyou will believe what he--what they will say against me."

  "Oh!" she commented, her expression shifting swiftly from sympatheticconcern to doubt.

  He caught the change in her look and tone, and flushed darkly.

  "There are sometimes two sides to a story," he muttered.

  "Tell me your side now," she suggested, with her usual directness.

  His eyes fell before her clear honest gaze. His flush deepened. Hehung his head, biting his twisted lip. After several moments he beganto speak in a hesitating broken murmur:

  "I've always been--wild. But I graduated from Tech.--not at the footof my class. My father--always busy piling up millions--never a wordor thought for me, except when I overspent my allowance. I was ina--fast set. My father--threatened me. I had to make good. I took aposition in old Leslie's office--Genevieve's father. I--"

  He paused, licked his lips, hesitated, and abruptly went on again,this time speaking with almost glib facility: "There was an engineers'contest for a projected bridge over Michamac Strait. I started to drawplans, that I might enter the contest, but I did not finish in time.The plans of the other engineers were all rejected. I continued towork on mine. After the contest I happened to pick up a piece of tornplan out of the office wastebasket, and it gave me a suggestion how toimprove the central span of my bridge."

  "Yes?" asked the girl, her interest deepening.

  He again licked his lips, hesitated, and continued: "There was noname on that torn plan--nothing to indicate to whom it had belonged.So I used it--that is, the suggestion I got from it, and was awardedthe bridge on my plans. This made me the Resident Engineer of thebridge, and I had it almost completed when this man Blake came backfrom Africa after Genevieve, and claimed that I had--had stolen hisplans of the bridge. It seems they were lost in Mr. Leslie's office.He claimed he had handed them in to me for the contest. But so hadall the other contestants, and their plans were not lost. It may havebeen that one of the doorkeepers tore his plans up, out ofrevenge. Blake was a very rough brute of a fellow at that time. Hequarreled with the doorkeeper because the man would not admit himto see Mr. Leslie--threatened to smash him. Afterwards he accusedMr. Leslie of stealing his plans."

  "Oh, no, no! he couldn't have done that! He can't be that kind of aman!" protested Isobel.

  "It's true! Even he will not deny it. Old Leslie thought himcrazy--then. It was different when he came back and accused me! He hadbeen shipwrecked with Genevieve. They were alone together all thoseweeks, and so one can--" Ashton checked himself. "No, you must notthink--He saved her. When they came back he claimed the bridge as hisown--those lost plans."

  "His plans? So that was it! And you--?"

  "Of course they believed him. What was my word against his withGenevieve and Leslie. Leslie's consulting engineer was an old pal ofBlake's. So of course I--I'll say though that Blake agreed to put itthat I had only borrowed his idea of the central span."

  "That was generous of him, if he really believed--"

  "Did he?--did Genevieve? Do they believe it now? You see why I must goaway."

  "I don't any such thing," rejoined the girl.

  "You don't?" he exclaimed. "When they are coming here, believing Idid it! They must believe it, all of them! And my father--after allthis time--They agreed not to tell him. Yet he has found out. Thatletter, up at the waterhole--it was from his lawyers. He had cut meoff--branded me as an outcast."

  "Without waiting to hear your side--without asking you to explain? Howunjust! how unfair!" cried Isobel.

  Ashton winced. "I--I told you I--my record was against me. But I washis son--he had no right to brand me as a--a thief! My valet read theletter. He must have told the guide--the scoundrels!"

  Tears of chagrin gathered in the young man's dark eyes. He bit his lipuntil the blood ran.

  "O-o-oh!" sighed the girl. "It's all been frightfully unjust! Youhaven't had fair play! I shall tell Mr. Blake."

  "No, not him!--not him!" Ashton's voice was almost shrill. "All I wishis to slip away, before they see me."

  "You don't mean, run away?" she said, quietly placing her littlegauntlet-gloved hand on his arm. "You're not going to run away,Lafe."

  "What else?" he asked, his eyes dark with bitter despair. "Would youhave me return, to be booted off the range when they tell yourfather?"

  "Just wait and see," she replied, gazing at him with a reassuringsmile. "You've proved yourself a right smart puncher--for atenderfoot. You're in the West, the good old-style West, where it's aman's present record that counts; not what he has been or what he hasdone. No, you're not going to run. You're going to face it out--andgoing to stay to learn your new profession of puncher and--_man_!"

  "But they will not wish to associate with me."

  "Yes, they will," she predicted. "I shall see to that."

  He took heart a little from her cheery, positive assurance. "Well, ifyou insist, I shall not go until they show--"

  "They'll not recognize you at first. That will give me a chance tospeak before they can say anything disagreeable. I'm sure Mr. Blakewill understand."

  "But--Genevieve?"

  "If she married him when he was as rough as you say, and if he agreesto let bygones be bygones, you need have no fear of Mrs. Blake. Onlybe sure to go into raptures over the baby. Tell her it's the perfectimage of its father."

  "What if it isn't?" objected Ashton gloomily.

  She dimpled. "One must allow for the difference in age; and there'salways some resemblance--each must have a mouth and eyes and ears anda nose."

  He caught himself on the verge of laughter. Her eyes were fixed uponhim, pure and honest and dancing with mirth. A sudden flood ofcrimson swept up his face from his bristly, tanned chin to his whiteforehead. He averted his gaze from hers.

  "You're _good_!" he choked out. "I don't deserve--But I can't go--whenyou tell me to stay!"

  "Of course you can't," she lightly rejoined. "Look! There's the traincoming. Push on the lines!"