CHAPTER 3. AN INVITATION GIVEN AND ACCEPTED
And already she had met him. Not only met him, but saved him from thejust vengeance about to fall upon him. She had not yet seen her ownranch, had not spoken to a single one of her employees, for it hadbeen a part of her plan to drop in unexpected and examine the situationbefore her foreman had a chance to put his best foot forward. So shehad started alone from Gimlet Butte that morning in her machine, and hadcome almost in sight of the Lazy D ranch houses when the battle in thecoulee invited her to take a hand.
She had acted on generous impulse, and the unforeseen result had been tosave this desperado from justice. But the worst of it was that she couldnot find it in her heart to regret it. Granted that he was a villain,double-dyed and beyond hope, yet he was the home of such courage, suchvirility, that her unconsenting admiration went out in spite of herself.He was, at any rate, a MAN, square-jawed, resolute, implacable. In thesinuous trail of his life might lie arson, robbery, murder, but he stillheld to that dynamic spark of self-respect that is akin to the divine.Nor was it possible to believe that those unblinking gray eyes, withthe capability of a latent sadness of despair in them, expressed a soulentirely without nobility. He had a certain gallant ease, a certainattractive candor, that did not consist with villainy unadulterated.
It was characteristic even of her impulsiveness that Helen Messitercurbed the swift condemnation that leaped to her lips when she knewthat the man sitting beside her was the notorious bandit of the Shoshonefastnesses. She was not in the least afraid. A sure instinct told her hewas not the kind of a man of whom a woman need have fear so long asher own anchor held fast. In good time she meant to let him haveher unvarnished opinion of him, but she did not mean it to be anunconsidered one. Wherefore she drove the machine forward toward thecamelbacked peak he had indicated, her eyes straight before her, a frowncorrugating her forehead.
For him, having made his dramatic announcement, he seemed content forthe present with silence. He leaned back in the car and appreciated herwith a coolness that just missed impudence. Certainly her appearanceproclaimed her very much worth while. To dwell on the long lines of hersupple young body, the exquisite throat and chin curve, was a pleasurewith a thrill to it. As a physical creation, a mere innocent younganimal, he thought her perfect; attuned to a fine harmony of graceand color. But it was the animating vitality of her, the lightness ofmotion, the fire and sparkle of expression that gave her the captivatingcharm she possessed.
They were two miles nearer the camel-backed peak before he broke thesilence.
"Beats a bronco for getting over the ground. Think I'll have to getone," he mused aloud.
"With the money you took from the Ayr bank?" she flashed.
"I might drive off some of your cows and sell them," he countered,promptly. "About how much will they hold me up for a machine like this?"
"This is only a runabout. You can get one for twelve or fourteen hundreddollars of anybody's money."
"Of yours?" he laughed.
"I haven't that much with me. If you'll come over and hold up the ranchperhaps we might raise it among us," she jeered.
His mirth was genuine. "But right now I couldn't get more than how muchoff y'u?"
"Sixty-three dollars is all I have with me, and I couldn't give youmore--NOT EVEN IF YOU PUT RED HOT IRONS BETWEEN MY FINGERS." She gave itto him straight, her blue eyes fixed steadily on him.
Yet she was not prepared for the effect of her words. The last thing shehad expected was to see the blood wash out of his bronzed face, to seehis sensitive nostrils twitch with pain. He made her feel as if she hadinsulted him, as if she had been needlessly cruel. And because of it shehardened her heart. Why should she spare him the mention of it? He hadnot hesitated at the shameless deed itself. Why should she shrink beforethat wounded look that leaped to his fine eyes in that flash of timebefore he hardened them to steel?
"You did it--didn't you?" she demanded.
"That's what they say." His gaze met her defiantly.
"And it is true, isn't it?"
"Oh, anything is true of a man that herds sheep," he returned, bitterly.
"If that is true it would not be possible for you to understand how muchI despise you."
"Thank you," he retorted, ironically.
"I don't understand at all. I don't see how you can be the man theysay you are. Before I met you it was easy to understand. But somehow--Idon't know--you don't LOOK like a villain." She found herself strangelyvoicing the deep hope of her heart. It was surely impossible to look athim and believe him guilty of the things of which, he was accused. Andyet he offered no denial, suggested no defense.
Her troubled eyes went over his thin, sunbaked face with its touch,of bitterness, and she did not find it possible to dismiss the subjectwithout giving him a chance to set himself right.
"You can't be as bad as they say. You are not, are you?" she asked,naively.
"What do y'u think?" he responded, coolly.
She flushed angrily at what she accepted as his insolence. "A man of anydecency would have jumped at the chance to explain."
"But if there is nothing to explain?"
"You are then guilty."
Their eyes met, and neither of them quailed.
"If I pleaded not guilty would y'u believe me?"
She hesitated. "I don't know. How could I when it is known by everybody?And yet--"
He smiled. "Why should I trouble y'u, then, with explanations? I reckonwe'll let it go at guilty."
"Is that all you can say for yourself?"
He seemed to hang in doubt an instant, then shook his head and refusedthe opening.
"I expect if we changed the subject I could say a good deal for y'u," hedrawled. "I never saw anything pluckier than the way y'u flew down fromthe mesa and conducted the cutting-out expedition. Y'u sure drilledthrough your punchers like a streak of lightning."
"I didn't know who you were," she explained, proudly.
"Would it have made any difference if y'u had?"
Again the angry flush touched her cheeks. "Not a bit. I would have savedyou in order to have you properly hanged later," she cut back promptly.
He shook his head gayly. "I'm ce'tainly going to disappoint y'u some.Your enterprising punchers may collect me yet, but not alive, I reckon."
"I'll give them strict orders to bring you in alive."
"Did you ever want the moon when y'u was a little kid?" he asked.
"We'll see, Mr. Outlaw Bannister."
He laughed softly, in the quiet, indolent fashion that would have beenpleasant if it had not been at her. "It's right kind of you to take somuch interest in me. I'd most be willing to oblige by letting your boysrope me to renew this acquaintance, ma'am." Then, "I get out here MissMessiter," he added.
She stopped on the instant. Plainly she could not get rid of him toosoon. "Haven't you forgot one thing?" she asked, ironically.
"Yes, ma'am. To thank you proper for what y'u did for me." He limpedgingerly down from the car and stood with his hand on one of the tires."I have been trying to think how to say it right; but I guess I'll haveto give it up. All is that if I ever get a chance to even the score--"
She waved his thanks aside impatiently "I didn't mean that. You haveforgotten to take my purse."
His gravity was broken on the instant, and his laughter was certainlydelightfully fresh. "I clean forgot, but I expect I'll drop over to theranch for it some day."
"We'll try to make to make you welcome, Mr. Bannister."
"Don't put yourself out at all. I'll take pot-luck when I come."
"How many of you may we expect?" she asked, defiantly.
"Oh, I allow to come alone."
"You'll very likely forget."
"No, ma'am, I don't know so many ladies that I'm liable to such anoversight.
"I have heard a different story. But if you do remember to come,and will let us know when you expect to honor the Lazy D, I'll havemessengers sent to meet you."
H
e perfectly understood her to mean leaden ones, and the humorous gleamin his eye sparkled in appreciation of her spirit. "I don't want allthat fuss made over me. I reckon I'll drop in unexpected," he said.
She nodded curtly. "Good-bye. Hope your ankle won't trouble you verymuch."
"Thank y'u, ma'am. I reckon it won't. Good-bye, Miss Messiter."
Out of the tail of her eye she saw him bowing like an Italian operasinger, as impudently insouciant, as gracefully graceless as any stagevillain in her memory. Once again she saw him, when her machine sweptround a curve and she could look back without seeming to do so, limpingacross through the sage brush toward a little hillock near the road. Andas she looked the bare, curly head was inclined toward her in anotherlow, mocking bow. He was certainly the gallantest vagabond unhanged.