CHAPTER XI
A DANCE AND A RIDE
Old Heck and Parker returned from Eagle Butte before noon. Parkerclimbed silently from the Clagstone "Six" and lifting out a new saddlewent toward the stable. Old Heck carried another--a beautiful thing,artistically scrolled, the horn and stirrups silver trimmed--and laid iton the front porch as Carolyn June, Ophelia and Skinny stepped out ofthe big room.
"It's yours," he said to Carolyn June.
"Oh, you darling old uncle!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around hisneck and giving a tight squeeze while she kissed him full on the mouth.
He reddened. "I ain't so darned old!" he laughed as he withdrew from herembrace and, glancing up, caught sight of Skinny in the immaculateshirt. "My Gawd!" he whispered under his breath.
Parker immediately saddled a horse and rode away to join the cowboys attheir work. Lunches for the party had been taken with them when theyleft the ranch in the morning. During the trip to Eagle Butte Old Heckand his foreman had talked but little. There was a feeling of restraintbetween Parker and him that made each hesitate to start a conversationthat would be almost certain to work around to a discussion ofOphelia--a subject uppermost in the minds of both.
At noon the Ramblin' Kid came to the house for dinner.
He and Skinny occupied their usual places. He looked once at Skinny'sshirt, murmured softly and in a tone of infinite disgust and pity,"Hell!" then ate his food in silence. During the meal Carolyn Juneignored him, but smiled tenderly and often at Skinny. Old Heck and thewidow, at the far end of the table, carried on a low-voiced dialogue.
During the afternoon the Ramblin' Kid remained away from the house. Acouple of times, glancing out of the window, Carolyn June saw him at thecircular corral petting and caressing Captain Jack or the Gold Dustmaverick.
When Sing Pete hammered the iron triangle announcing supper Parker andthe cowboys had returned, the hides from the dead steers had beenunloaded and the men were ready for the meal.
As Carolyn June and Ophelia went into the kitchen they exchanged a lookof understanding. Skinny lagged behind Old Heck. He dreaded the shock ofthe white shirt on the other cowboys. When he stepped into the room hisface flamed scarlet and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. Heexpected merciless, sarcastic chiding--thinly veiled but cruel. He wasdisappointed. The cowboys looked at him for a moment, exchanged winks,then sat silently and solemnly down to the table. The presence of thewomen had saved, for the time being, the suffering Skinny.
Carolyn June distributed tender words and velvety looks impartiallyamong the younger cowboys, while Ophelia alternated sweet nothingsbetween Parker and Old Heck, with an occasional sidelong glance atCharley that brought a heightened color to his sun-browned cheeks.
Chuck sighed dolefully.
"Why so sad?" Carolyn June asked gently, looking with melting sympathyat the pensive cowboy.
"I--I--was just thinking of a--a--funeral I saw once!" he answered,gazing steadily and with pretended awe at Skinny's white shirt. "Somecolors always remind me of funerals or--or--weddings!" he explained.
A suppressed snicker circled the table.
"Don't be down-hearted," Carolyn June laughed, "it may not go that far.
"Uncle Josiah," she added suddenly, "Ophelia and I have a wonderfulsurprise for you and the boys."
Old Heck looked at her without replying while he awaited an explanation.
"We are going to give a dance!" Carolyn June went on.
"A dance?" he repeated incredulously, "when--"
"To-night--in the front room," she hastened to explain, "not a bigdance--just a little one for you and the boys. The graphophone willfurnish music, there are some good one-step and waltz records--Skinnyand I were playing them this afternoon--and every blessed cowboy on theQuarter Circle KT must be there!"
A short silence followed her words, then a chorus of "We'll be there!"greeted her.
"In an hour," Carolyn June said, smiling sweetly at the cowboys, as theyleft the kitchen, "everybody be back at the house. We'll fix the roomand have it ready--don't any one bother to 'dress up,'" she added as anafterthought.
"Old Heck's niece acts kind of stampedish, don't she?" Bert remarked asParker and the cowboys filed out of the back-yard gate toward thebunk-house.
"Yes," Charley answered. "I'm going to shave."
"So am I," said Chuck, as they hurried in the direction of theirsleeping quarters.
"Me, too," laughed Bert. "Gee, didn't Skinny shine in that shirt?" asthey disappeared inside the building and there was a rush to hunt outrazors, brushes and other toilet necessities or clean handkerchiefs andties.
The Ramblin' Kid alone seemed uninterested. He dropped down on his bedand idly watched the others prepare for the evening's diversion.
"Ain't you going?" Chuck asked him, noticing his indifference.
A short, half-cynical laugh with "Oh, maybe I'll go set on the porchan' listen to th' music!" was the answer.
When Parker and the cowboys reappeared at the house it was plain thatall had disobeyed Carolyn June's injunction not to "dress up." Each hadpaid tribute in some way, by a smooth-scraped face, a dean shirt, a tieor something, to the vanity of his own heart and the desire for the goodopinion of either Carolyn June or the widow.
Both women noticed it. They exchanged glances while Carolyn June softlywhispered to Ophelia: "Stir them up--it's coming to them!"
The widow smiled understandingly.
Old Heck fidgeted uncomfortably. The situation was entirely beyond hiscontrol. By right he and Ophelia ought to be sitting there quietlymaking love, while Skinny and Carolyn June, in another corner of theroom or out on the porch, were doing the same thing. He would just haveto await developments.
Parker was elated. Carolyn June's proposal had broken up Old Heck'sevening alone with the widow. Perhaps--the thought thrilled the foreman--Ophelia herself had planned it!
"Skinny can keep the graphophone working," Carolyn June laughed. "Put ona one-step first," she said as he rather grudgingly went to the cornerand started the music. "Come on, Bert, we'll dance this one," she criedmerrily, as she stepped up to the blushing cowboy and put her hand, witha tender little pressure, on his arm. "It's 'ladies' night,' youknow--Ophelia, pick your pardner!"
"Aw--don't you reckon you ought to choose one of the others first?"Bert, considerably embarrassed by the sudden attention, mumbled as hemoved with pretended reluctance but secret eagerness out on to thefloor.
"I know who I want to dance with!" Carolyn June whispered significantlywith another squeeze of his arm while her warm breath fanned his cheek.
For a moment Ophelia stood as if undecided while Old Heck and Parkereach tried by their looks to register unconcern, their hearts meanwhileleaping with uncertain expectancy and hope. Suddenly turning from bothand going up to Charley, she said softly and with well-feigned shyness:
"I--I--please, won't you dance this one with me?"
"With the most exceeding pleasure!" Charley replied gallantly, arisingand reaching out his hands.
Parker and Old Heck gulped their astonishment and disappointment--eachswallowing as if he had something in his throat that would not godown--and glared savagely at each other.
Skinny next put on a waltz record. Carolyn June and Chuck swung throughits dreamy rhythm while her hair brushed the cowboy's neck and her eyes,half closed, looked alluringly into his. "I--I--could do thisforever--with you!" she breathed, accenting the last word and makingChuck want to yell for joy.
At the beginning of the waltz Ophelia paused a moment before Old Heck,glanced demurely at Parker, took a step toward the latter, turnedquickly to the first and flooding him with a look of tenderness held outher hands while she spoke the simple entreaty:
"Please!"
Old Heck leaped to his feet, hitched nervously at the belt of histrousers, ran his fingers around the inside of his collar, and, with alook of triumph at Parker, led the widow through the dance. Shepermitted her body to relax and lean against her partner, dancing
withan abandon that not only fired the emotions of Old Heck to fever heat,but was as well like dippers of oil on the flame of the foreman'sjealousy.
Parker gritted his teeth and followed Old Heck with a look that meantnothing less than the desire to kill!
As Ophelia and Old Heck, and Carolyn June with Chuck circled the roomSkinny leaned weakly against the graphophone. He was torturedagonizingly by the strange action of Carolyn June. He was her lover, herofficial, absolute lover! Why did she want to go and get things allmixed up like this? It wasn't fair. The other boys were not supposed tomake love to her! They had elected him to do it and he was gettingalong all right till she thought of having this blamed fool dance. Hebegan to doubt the efficacy of the white shirt and frequently drew oneof the loose, baggy sleeves--rapidly losing their snowyspotlessness--across his face to rid himself of beads of perspiration.
The waltz was followed by another one-step and Ophelia granted thisfavor to Parker while Old Heck sat and swore steadily under hisbreath--regretful that he had not sent the foreman and the cowboys outon the beef hunt a week ago!
Outside, the Ramblin' Kid half-reclined on the edge of the porch. With acigarette between his teeth, a sneering smile on his lips, he watched,through the open door, the group within. He was convinced now thatCarolyn June was utterly frivolous. She danced and flirted with Bert,Chuck, Charley--and even Pedro--one after the other and occasionallyParker. Poor Skinny alone was neglected. She seemed to have forgottenthat he existed save when, from time to time, she suggested that he putthis or that record on the graphophone. To each of the cowboys shewhispered tender little sentiments, gave soulful looks and insinuatingsmiles--all but caressed them openly. Ophelia did like things to OldHeck, Parker and Charley.
In very truth it was a "slaughter."
It was hot. After an hour Carolyn June stepped out on the porch for abreath of air while Skinny sought in the cabinet for a record she hadasked him to play. The Ramblin' Kid straightened up as she came out ofthe door. He was disgusted, angry, heart-sickened. He had seen enoughand was starting to leave.
Carolyn June had noticed the absence of the Ramblin' Kid. She hadbelieved, all evening, he was on the porch and that was the real reasonshe had come outside. She saw him. "Oh, is--is--that you, Ramblin'Kid?" she exclaimed as if surprised, and went quickly to where, at thesound of her voice, he had paused.
He did not answer. The light shone full on his face and he knew that sheknew--and had known before she spoke--that he was there. His eyes werefilled with a look queerly blending scorn, loathing, pity and pain.
"Why--why--don't you come in and dance?" she asked lightly, not certainof his mood.
"I don't want to," he replied coldly: "anyhow--" he added with a sneerand a brutal laugh as he slowly moved away in the darkness, "when Idecide to _hug_ I'll hug in private!"
Carolyn June started almost as though he had struck her. The taunt wasan insult! A flood of anger swept over her. "The brute!" she whisperedpassionately and with utter contempt in her voice. She stood a moment.Suddenly she remembered the reckless abandon with which she had beendancing and flirting with the cowboys inside the house. Her face flamedscarlet. She looked out into the blackness toward the circular corral.Her expression changed and a pitying smile crossed her lips: "PoorRamblin' Kid--he just--does not understand!" she murmured and steppedback into the house.
As the Ramblin' Kid passed through the back-yard gate he mutteredsavagely under his breath: "Playin' with their hearts like marbles--th'damned fools!" He paused a moment and added, as though tired, "Oh, well,I reckon she thinks she has to do it--it's her breed--she was raisedthat way I guess!"
The snuffling sound of a horse blowing hay-powder or other dust from itsnostrils came from the direction of the circular corral. The Ramblin'Kid stopped in his walk and turning went thoughtfully through thedarkness toward where Captain Jack and the Gold Dust maverick werequietly feeding. He leaned against the bars of the corral and looked atthe shadowy forms of the two horses standing a little distance away.Captain Jack quit eating and came to the fence.
"God! Little Horse"--the Ramblin' Kid spoke tensely and withoutrepression--"why can't humans be as decent an' honest as you?"
The black dome of night was studded with innumerable stars that gleamedlike points of silver sprinkled over a canopy of somber velvet someinfinite hand had flung, in a great arch, from rim to rim of a sleepingworld. The call of a night bird shrilled softly from the cottonwoodtrees along the Cimarron. A hint of a breeze swung idly from the westand rustled the leaves in the tops of the poplars in front of the house.Faintly as a distant echo came the wailing strains of a waltz, driftingout from the lighted windows and the open door of the room where CarolynJune and Ophelia, in a spirit of sport and for revenge, juggled thehearts of men afraid of nothing in all the world but the look in aWoman's eyes.
The music tortured the soul of the Ramblin' Kid. It breathed theunfathomable strife of life--of love, longing, hope, despair--almost,yet subtly, elusively, would not tell the eternal "Why?" of all things.
Not heeding time, he stood and listened. The crunching sound made by theGold Dust maverick, munching at the pile of hay on the ground in thecorral, blended with and seemed a queer accompaniment to the melody thatcame from the scene of revelry up at the house.
The orange disk of a late-rising moon showed above the rim of thesand-hills at the lower end of the valley. The Ramblin' Kid watchedit--until it grew into a rounded plate of burnished, glistening silver.The Gold Dust maverick was suddenly flooded with a glare of light as themoonbeams poured over the top of the shed and streamed through the barsof the circular corral. The filly lifted her head.
An impulse to ride--ride--ride, to get away from it all--far out on thewide unpeopled plains where there was nothing above but God, and theunmeasured depths of His heavens, and nothing beneath but the earth andthe rhythmic beat of his horse's feet, came over the Ramblin' Kid. Men,and the works of men--their passions, their strifes, theirfoolishness--and women--women who played with love--he wanted to forget,to leave miles and miles behind.
He started to open the gate, thinking to saddle Captain Jack and obeythe impulse of the moment. Carolyn June's words, spoken of the Gold Dustmaverick: "It would be fun to see her run!" and uttered lightly and in aspirit of coquetry that morning when she teased him to enter the outlawfilly in the race against the Thunderbolt horse from the Vermejo, cameto his mind. The selfishness of the plea maddened him. She cared nothingfor the price in effort--the straining muscles, the panting breath--theagony the beautiful mare must pay to defeat the black wonder from theother part of the range. She wanted only to see the maverick run--tocoax him to yield and run the filly merely to please the cheap vanity ofher sex! No doubt also she counted on entertainment when, to-morrow, hewould ride the outlaw for the first time. It would be a kind ofshow--the battle for mastery between himself and the high-bred untamedmare. The whole bunch--Old Heck, Parker, Ophelia, Carolyn June, thecowboys--yes, even that damned Chink--unquestionably would be crowdedabout the corral to watch the fear and pain of the maverick as shelearned her first hard lesson of servitude to man! They would laugh ather frenzied efforts to throw him.
He would fool them. He would ride the filly to-night!
He went to the shed, slipped his legs into the worn leather chaps, tooksaddle, bridle, blanket and rope and returned to the corral.
Stepping inside he closed the gate behind him.
Captain Jack came to him and nosed at his shoulder.
"No, Little Man," the Ramblin' Kid said gently, "this ain't your turn.You can go with us though, if you want to!" he laughed.
The Gold Dust maverick stood, half-afraid, at the other side of thecorral. She had not yet wholly conquered her dread of him. She did not,however, offer to fight as she had done that morning when Skinny enteredthe enclosure.
The Ramblin' Kid spoke to the filly and, as she began to move shylyaway, with one toss threw the loop over her head. The instant the marefelt the rope she stopped and stood trembl
ing a moment, then camestraight up to him. She was "rope-wise." The experience at the NorthSprings the night he caught her, and when she had, three separate times,been cruelly thrown by this same rope; had taught the Gold Dust maverickthe power that lay in those pliant strands.
She flinched from the touch of the blanket. The Ramblin' Kid workedeasily, carefully, but in absolute confidence, with her. As hecautiously saddled the mare he talked in a low, drawling monotone,uttering endearing phrases and occasionally slipping a lump of sugar--asupply of which he had got that night from the kitchen--into her mouth.She ate it ravenously.
"Darn, Little One," he laughed, "you sure have got a sweet tooth--yougobble that sugar like an Indian squaw eatin' choc'late candy!"
At last the mare was saddled. Still holding to the rope, the Ramblin'Kid, without trying to get the filly to follow, moved over and openedthe gate, giving it a push and swinging it wide. During the performancethe Gold Dust maverick stood perfectly still, save for a constantchewing at the iron bit between her teeth.
The Ramblin' Kid went quietly up to her, coiling the slack of the ropeas he advanced. Without bothering to tighten the reins, but watchingclosely the look in the maverick's big brown eyes and the nervoustwitching of her ears, he laid one hand on the withers of the outlaw,with the other he grasped the horn of the saddle and slipping his footin the stirrup swung quickly and lightly on to her back.
For the space of a deep breath the maverick crouched, grew tense inevery muscle, slowly arched her back, gathered herself together for agreat effort.
A quiet smile curled the lips of the Ramblin' Kid as he looked down onthe curving neck of the beautiful creature.
With a tremendous leap the Gold Dust maverick sprang high into the air,lunging forward while all her hoofs were off the ground. Her forefeetcame down across the back of Captain Jack--she had all but cleared thelittle roan. The shock almost threw the stallion to the ground. As hesurged from under her the filly slid and sprawled on her shoulder andside. Instantly she was on her feet, the Ramblin' Kid still in thesaddle. His spurs had not touched the mare--instead he had been carefulnot to let their steel points so much as ruffle the golden-chestnut hairof her belly or flank. Only when the outlaw fell had he thrown forwardhis right leg and hooked the sharp rowels into the strong fiber of theforward cinch. With the left hand he loosely held the reins, giving themaverick her head--the other hand he brushed with a caressing upwardmovement along her glossy neck.
Twice the Gold Dust maverick circled the corral, plunging, bucking"side-winding," desperately--her nose between her knees, squealingpitifully--as she tried vainly to rid herself of the weight of theRamblin' Kid.
"Go to it, Baby Girl, go to it!" he chuckled; "you've got to learn!Sooner or later you'll find out it can't be done!" He rode limply,loosely, low in the saddle, and while he made no effort to urge thefilly into greater frenzy he did not try in any way to prevent herbucking her hardest in, the futile attempts to hurl him off her back.
The second time the outlaw mare came to the gate she whirled and dashedthrough the opening, out of the corral, across the open space, past thecorner of the front-yard fence and along the road that led up to thebench and toward Eagle Butte. Captain Jack trotted around the corralonce, then followed at a long, swinging gallop.
The noise of the filly bucking inside the corral reached the ears of thedancers in the big room at the house.
"What in thunderation's that commotion?" Old Heck exclaimed, startingup--he and Ophelia had just finished a two-step and Skinny was windingthe graphophone to play his favorite, the alluring _La Paloma_.
There was an instant's pause, then a rush for the door.
Carolyn June reached the porch just in time to see the Gold Dustmaverick "hitting the breeze"--careering madly, wildly pitching as sheran past the opening in front of the house and up the road out on thebench. It was almost as though a phantom horse and rider had passedbefore her sight.
"Lord! Look at them go!" Charley cried admiringly.
At first the girl had not recognized the outlaw mare or her rider.
"Who--what--is it?" she asked Chuck, who was standing beside her.
Bert answered for Chuck. "It's that darn-fool Ramblin' Kid--he's ridingthe Gold Dust maverick!" he said. "Ain't that just like the blamedidiot--to go and ride that filly to-night?"
"Aw, he's liable to do anything," Charley commented, "he's--"
Before the sentence was finished the beautiful mare and her apparentlycareless rider, with Captain Jack a hundred yards behind, disappearedover the brink of the bench and in the silence that followed the groupon the porch heard only the distant thudding of hoofs beating an everfainter tattoo through the calm, moonlit night.
Carolyn June went back into the house with conflicting emotions surgingthrough her heart. She believed she knew why the Ramblin' Kid hadelected to ride the outlaw filly to-night. But her thoughts she kept toherself.
For an hour longer the dance continued. But not with the spirit ofearlier in the evening. The interruption took something of the eagernessto punish Old Heck, Parker and the cowboys, out of the heart of CarolynJune. A bit of doubt that the role she and Ophelia were playing wasworthy of true womanhood crept into her mind.
When the widow and Carolyn June were alone Ophelia laughed.
"Whew!" she exclaimed, "that was a strenuous party! I've danced till myfeet ache! Do you think our little 'counterplot' was a success?"
"Entirely!" Carolyn June replied with an uncertain chuckle. "UncleJosiah, Parker and Charley will dream dreams about you and fight duelsin their sleep to-night!"
"I think the others--" the widow started to say, then pausing, finished:"Wasn't it queer the Ramblin' Kid decided to ride that outlaw horseto-night instead of coming to the house to dance?"
"Oh, I don't know," Carolyn June answered indifferently.
"I guess it's as Charley says," Ophelia remarked: "'You can't tell whatth' Ramblin' Kid's liable to do'--"
"I suppose not," Carolyn June replied wearily as she went into her room."Good night!"
"Good night!" Ophelia echoed.