Wyoming: A Story of the Outdoor West

  CHAPTER 5. THE DANCE AT FRASER'S

  "Heard tell yet of the dance over to Fraser's?"

  He was a young man of a brick red countenance and he wore loosely roundhis neck the best polka dot silk handkerchief that could be bought inGimlet Butte, also such gala attire as was usually reserved only forevents of importance. Sitting his horse carelessly in the plainsman'sindolent fashion, he asked his question of McWilliams in front of theLazy D bunkhouse.

  "Nope. When does the shindig come off?"

  "Friday night. Big thing. Y'u want to be there. All y'u lads."

  "Mebbe some of us will ride over."

  He of the polka dot kerchief did not appear quite satisfied. His glancewandered toward the house, as it had been doing occasionally since themoment of his arrival.

  "Y'u bet this dance is ace high, Mac. Fancy costumes and masks. Y'u canrent the costumes over to Slauson's for three per. Texas, he's going tocall the dances. Music from Gimlet Butte. Y'u want to get it tucked awayin your thinker that this dance ain't on the order of culls. No, sirree,it's cornfed."

  "Glad to hear of it. I'll cipher out somehow to be there, Slim."

  Slim's glance took in the ranchhouse again. He had ridden twenty-threemiles out of his way to catch a glimpse of the newly arrived mistress ofthe Lazy D, the report of whose good looks and adventures had traveledhand in hand through many canons even to the heart of the Tetons. It hadbeen on Skunk Creek that he had heard of her three days before, and nowhe had come to verify the tongue of rumor, to see her quite casually, ofcourse, and do his own appraising. It began to look as if he were goingto have to ride off without a glimpse of her.

  He nodded toward the house, turning a shade more purple than his nativecholeric hue. "Y'u want to bring your boss with y'u, Mac. We beenhearing a right smart lot about her and the boys would admire tohave her present. It's going to be strictly according to Hoyle--norough-house plays go, y'understand."

  "I'll speak to her about it." Mac's deep amusement did not reach thesurface. He was quite well aware that Slim was playing for time and thathe was too bashful to plump out the desire that was in him. "Great theway cows are jumpin', ain't it?"

  "Sure. Well, I'll be movin' along to Slauson's. I just drapped in on myway. Thought mebbe y'u hadn't heard tell of the dance."

  "Much obliged. Was it for old man Slauson y'u dug up all them togs,Slim? He'll ce'tainly admire to see y'u in that silk tablecloth y'u gotround your neck."

  Slim's purple deepened again. "Y'u go to grass, Mac. I don't aim to asky'u to be my valley yet awhile."

  "C'rect. I was just wondering do all the Triangle Bar boys ride therange so handsome?"

  "Don't y'u worry about the Triangle Bar boys," advised the embarrassedSlim, gathering up his bridle reins.

  With one more reluctant glance in the direction of the house he rodeaway. When he reached the corral he looked back again. His gaze showedhim the boyish foreman doubled up with laughter; also the sweep of awhite skirt descending from the piazza.

  "Now, ain't that hoodooed luck?" the aggrieved rider of the Triangle Baroutfit demanded of himself, "I made my getaway about three shakes toosoon, by gum!"

  Her foreman was in the throes of mirth when Helen Messiter reached him.

  "Include me in the joke," she suggested.

  "Oh, I was just thinkin'," he explained inadequately.

  "Does it always take you that way?"

  "About these boys that drop in so frequent on business these days. Funnyhow fond they're getting of the Lazy D. There was that stock detectivehappened in yesterday to show how anxious he was about your cows. Thenthe two Willow Creek riders that wanted a job punching for y'u, not tomention mention the Shoshone miner and the storekeeper from Gimlet Butteand Soapy Sothern and--"

  "Still I don't quite see the joke."

  "It ain't any joke with them. Serious business, ma'am."

  "What happened to start you on this line?"

  "The lad riding down the road on that piebald pinto. He come twentymiles out of his way, plumb dressed for a wedding, all to give me aninvite to a dance at Fraser's. Y'u would call that real thoughtful ofhim, I expect."

  She gayly sparkled. "A real ranch dance--the kind you have been tellingme about. Are Ida and I invited?"

  "Invited? Slim hinted at a lynching if I came without y'u."

  She laughed softly, merry eyes flashing swiftly at him. "How gallant youWesterners are, even though you do turn it into burlesque."

  His young laugh echoed hers. "Burlesque nothing. My life wouldn't beworth a thing if I went alone. Honest, I wouldn't dare."

  "Since the ranch can't afford to lose its foreman Ida and I will goalong," she promised. "That is, if it is considered proper here."

  "Proper. Good gracious, ma'am! Every lady for thirty miles round will bethere, from six months old to eighty odd years. It wouldn't be PROPER tostay at home."

  The foreman drove her to Fraser's in a surrey with Ida Henderson and oneof the Lazy D punchers on the back seat. The drive was over twenty-fivemiles, but in that silent starry night every mile was a delight. Part ofthe way led through a beautiful canon, along the rocky mountain road ofwhich the young man guided the rig with unerring skill. Beyond the gorgethe country debouched into a grassy park that fell away from their feetfor miles. It was in this basin that the Fraser ranch lay.

  The strains of the fiddle and the thumping of feet could be heard asthey drove up. Already the rooms seemed to be pretty well filled, asHelen noticed when they entered. Three sets were on the floor for aquadrille and the house shook with the energy of the dancers. On benchesagainst the walls were seated the spectators, and on one of them stoodTexas calling the dance.

  "Alemane left. Right hand t'yer pardner and grand right and left.Ev-v-rybody swing," chanted the caller.

  A dozen rough young fellows were clustered near the front door,apparently afraid to venture farther lest their escape be cut off.Through these McWilliams pushed a way for his charges, the cowboysfalling back respectfully at once when they discovered the presence ofMiss Messiter.

  In the bedroom where she left her wraps the mistress of the Lazy D founda dozen or more infants and several of their mothers. In the kitchenwere still other women and babies, some of the former very old and ofthe latter very young. A few of the babies were asleep, but most of themwere still very much alive to this scene of unwonted hilarity in theiryoung lives.

  As soon as she emerged into the general publicity of the dancing roomher foreman pounced upon Helen and led her to a place in the head setthat was making up. The floor was rough, the music jerky and uncertain,the quadrilling an exhibition of joyous and awkward abandon; but itspicturesque lack of convention appealed to the girl from Michigan. Itrather startled her to be swung so vigorously, but a glance about theroom showed that these humorous-eyed Westerners were merely living up tothe duty of the hour as they understood it.

  At the close of the quadrille Helen found herself being introducedto "Mr. Robins," alias Slim, who drew one of his feet back in anembarrassed bow.

  "I enjoy to meet y'u, ma'am," he assured her, and supplemented this witha request for the next dance, after which he fell into silence that waspainful in its intensity.

  Nearly all the dances were squares, as few of those present understoodthe intricacies of the waltz and two-step. Hence it happened that theproficient McWilliams secured three round dances with his mistress.

  It was during the lunch of sandwiches, cake and coffee that Helenperceived an addition to the company. The affair had been advertiseda costume ball, but most of those present had construed this veryliberally. She herself, to be sure, had come as Mary Queen of Scots,Mac was arrayed in the scarlet tunic and tight-fitting breeches of theNorthwest Mounted Police, and perhaps eight or ten others had madesome attempt at representing some one other than they were. She now sawanother, apparently a new arrival, standing in the doorway negligently.A glance told her that he was made up for a road agent and that hisrevolvers and mask were a part of the necessary costum
ing.

  Slowly his gaze circled the room and came round to her. His eyes werehard as diamonds and as flashing, so that the impact of their meetinglooks seemed to shock her physically. He was a tall man, swarthy ofhue, and he carried himself with a light ease that looked silken strong.Something in the bearing was familiar yet not quite familiar either. Itseemed to suggest a resemblance to somebody she knew. And in the nextthought she knew that the somebody was Ned Bannister.

  The man spoke to Fraser, just then passing with a cup of coffee, andHelen saw the two men approach. The stranger was coming to be formallyintroduced.

  "Shake hands with Mr. Holloway, Miss Messiter. He's from up in the hillcountry and he rode to our frolic. Y'u've got three guesses to figureout what he's made up as."

  "One will be quite enough, I think," she answered coldly.

  Fraser departed on his destination with the coffee and the newcomer satdown on the bench beside her.

  "One's enough, is it?" he drawled smilingly.

  "Quite, but I'm surprised so few came in costume. Why didn't you? But Isuppose you had your reasons."

  "Didn't I? I'm supposed to be a bad man from the hills."

  She swept him casually with an indifferent glance. "And isn't that whatyou are in real life?"

  His sharp scrutiny chiseled into her. "What's that?"

  "You won't mind if I forget and call you Mr. Bannister instead of Mr.Holloway?"

  She thought his counterfeit astonishment perfect.

  "So I'm Ned Bannister, am I?"

  Their eyes clashed.

  "Aren't you?"

  She felt sure of it, and yet there was a lurking doubt. For there wasin his manner something indescribably more sinister than she had feltin him on that occasion when she had saved his life. Then a debonairrecklessness had been the outstanding note, but now there was somethingribald and wicked in him.

  "Since y'u put it as a question, common politeness demands an answer.Ned Bannister is my name."

  "You are the terror of this country?"

  "I shan't be a terror to y'u, ma'am, if I can help it," he smiled.

  "But you are the man they call the king?"

  "I have that honor."

  "HONOR?"

  At the sharp scorn of her accent he laughed.

  "Do you mean that you are proud of your villainy?" she demanded.

  "Y'u've ce'tainly got the teacher habit of asking questions," he repliedwith a laugh that was a sneer.

  A shadow fell across them and a voice said quietly, "She didn't wait toask any when she saved your life down in the coulee back of the Lazy D."

  The shadow was Jim McWilliams's, and its owner looked down at the manbeside the girl with steady, hostile eyes.

  "Is this your put in, sir?" the other flashed back.

  "Yes, seh, it is. The boys don't quite like seeing your hardware soprominent at a social gathering. In this community guns don't come intothe house at a ranch dance. I'm a committee to mention the subject andto collect your thirty-eights if y'u agree with us."

  "And if I don't agree with you?"

  "There's all outdoors ready to receive y'u, seh. It would be a pity tostay in the one spot where your welcome's wore thin."

  "Still I may choose to stay."

  "Ce'tainly, but if y'u decide that way y'u better step out on the porchand talk it over with us where there ain't ladies present."

  "Isn't this a costume dance? What's the matter with my guns? I'm anoutlaw, ain't I?"

  "I don't know whether y'u are or not, seh. If y'u say y'u are we'reready to take your word. The guns have to be shucked if y'u stay here.They might go off accidental and scare the ladies."

  The man rose blackly. "I'll remember this. If y'u knew who y'u weregetting so gay with--"

  "I can guess, Mr. Holloway, the kind of an outfit y'u freight with, andI expect I could put a handle to another name for you."

  "By God, if y'u dare to say--"

  "I don't dare, especially among so many ladies," came McWilliams'sjaunty answer.

  The eyes of the two men gripped, after which Holloway swung on his heeland swaggered defiantly out of the house.

  Presently there came the sound of a pony's feet galloping down theroad. It had not yet died away when Texas announced that the supperintermission was over.

  "Pardners for a quadrille. Ladies' choice."

  The dance was on again full swing. The fiddlers were tuning up andcouples gathering for a quadrille. Denver came to claim Miss Messiterfor a partner. Apparently even the existence of the vanished Hollowaywas forgotten. But Helen remembered it, and pondered over the affairlong after daylight had come and brought with it an end to thefestivities.