Laramie Holds the Range

  CHAPTER XI

  A DUEL WITH KATE

  When the eating-house at the Junction was closed, Harry Tenison sentfor Belle and offered her the position of housekeeper at the MountainHouse. This Belle declined. She had long had in her head the idea oftaking a place and serving meals on her own hook, as she expressed it.Her instinct for independence, always strong, had not only preventedher getting married but made her restive under orders. She wasstubborn--her enemies called her abusive names and her best friendsadmitted that she was sometimes difficult. At Sleepy Cat she took acottage in lower Main Street. She had some furniture, and having alittle money saved and a little borrowed from McAlpin, Belle bought afew new pieces, including a folding bed secured at a bargain, andopened her doors for business. And whatever her faults of temperament,Belle could cook.

  Kitchen's barn was headquarters for the small ranchers from the northand for the Falling Wall men, and McAlpin soon had a trade seekingBelle's place. The cottage itself faced the side street, but a littleshop annex opened on Main. In this and in the cottage dining-roomBelle served her meals. Very soon, however, she made trouble forMcAlpin. It developed that she would not serve anybody she did notlike and as her fancy was capricious she gave most of McAlpin'sfollowing the cold shoulder. He spent much time in the beginning,hot-footing it, as Belle termed it, between the barn and the cottagetrying to straighten things out. In the end he gave over and toldBelle she could starve if she wanted to. Whereupon she said tartlythat she did want to; and McAlpin snatching off his baseball cap, as hedid when greatly moved, and twirling it in his hand asked for hismoney--which he failed to get.

  Yet one man among the hardy friends of the barn boss did find favor atthe cottage and he the last whom McAlpin would have picked for a likelyfavorite. This was Jim Laramie. Laramie soon became a regularcustomer of Belle's and his friends naturally followed him.

  The closing out of her father's interests at the Junction was withoutregret for Kate, since it sent her up to where she wanted to be--at theranch. For some time after establishing herself there she rarely cameinto Sleepy Cat. Then as the novelty wore off and small wants madethemselves felt, she rode oftener to town--mail and shopping andmarketing soon established for her a regular round and when she didride to Sleepy Cat she nearly always saw Belle; sometimes she lunchedwith her. Belle was a stickler in her home for neatness, even thoughthe cyclone might have been supposed to harden her to dust.

  More than this, Belle knew what was going on--she had the news.Little, in the daily round of the town and its wide territory, got bythe modest scrim curtains of Belle's place; she became Kate's reporter.Men would say this was the principal attraction for Kate, and that thecooking came second--not so. The real reason Belle got the gossip ofthe country was because her customers were men. Kate was probably theonly woman, certainly almost the only one, among her patrons. Belleexplained this by saying that none of the rest of the ranchwomen wouldspend their money for lunch. The truth really was that Belle did notlike women, anyway--Kate she tolerated because she did like her.

  It was the day after Tenison's big celebration that Kate rode into townfor the mail, and after some shopping walked down to Belle's for lunch.Belle was at the butcher shop across the street, telephoning. She camein after a moment.

  "It seems to me you spend a good deal of time with that butcher," saidKate, significantly.

  "Oh, no, he's got a club foot. Has Harry Van Horn been shining up toyou?"

  Kate was taken aback, but she had been to blame for giving Belle anopening and could only enter a confused denial.

  "The first serious symptom," said Belle, garrulously, "will be, he'llhave a headache; he'll ask for cold cloths on his forehead. When thatworks pretty well he'll tell you your hair is like his sister's andsome evening he'll ask you to take it down. He asked me one night totake mine down. I handed him my wig. Say! he was the most surprisedman in Sleepy Cat. I've been trying for an hour to get that rascallymilkman on the telephone--there's not a drop of cream in the house.Well, how are you? Was Tom Stone home when you left?"

  One question followed another. Kate had not only not seen the ranchforeman--she had not heard of the excitement of the night before. FromBelle she got the details of Stone's attempt to kill Laramie. Thestory lost nothing in Belle's hands. She had heard all versions andwas pretty good at story telling herself.

  "After McAlpin picked up Stone's gun Laramie told him to turn it overto Luke; and he told Luke not to give it back to Stone till thismorning--I guess they hid Stone last night." She wound up with anabusive fling at Doubleday's foreman. "What do you keep such a beastlycritter around for?" she asked, looking at Kate hard for an answer.

  Humiliated at the recital, Kate thought it time to say somethingherself: "Why do you ask me a question like that?"'

  Belle arched her eyebrows belligerently. "Why shouldn't I?" shedemanded. And bridling with further criticism of Stone and byimplication of those that employed him, she let fly again.

  Kate tried to ignore her outburst: "You know perfectly well," she saidfirmly, "I have nothing to say about the ranch or how it is run, or whoruns it. And I don't care to listen to any comments on that subject."

  "If you don't like my comments you needn't come here to listen tothem," retorted Belle, flaming.

  The two were standing at the cook stove.

  "While I am here," returned Kate with tart dignity, "please don't abuseme."

  "I say what I please to anybody if it's right," exclaimed Belle rudely.

  "You'll be ashamed of yourself when you cool off," Kate returned,pointing to the broiler: "You don't expect me to eat all that meat, doyou?"

  Belle answered with an offended dignity of her own: "I expect JimLaramie to eat the biggest part of it. And there he comes now!"

  The front door opened, in fact, while she was speaking; Kate stood withher back to it and though by turning she could have peeped through thecurtained archway, she would not have looked for a million dollars. IfBelle wanted her revenge she had it at that moment. Kate could notsink through the floor to escape, but how she wanted to! She did stepquickly aside hoping she had not been seen, and retired to the farthestcorner of the kitchen. Belle's mouth, before the stove, set grimly andwith her left hand she gave her wig the vicious punch she used whenwrought up. Kate motioned to her frantically. Belle regarded hercoldly but did come closer and Kate caught at her sleeve: "For heaven'ssake," she begged in a whisper, "don't let him know I'm here."

  Kate eyed her anxiously. Belle's face was hard, and quick, firm stepswere coming from the front door.

  "Hello, Belle!" was the greeting. Had they been Kate's death messagethe words could not have frightened her more. She knew, too well, thevoice.

  "You didn't get my message," were the next words flung through thearchway.

  "I got it," answered Belle, going forward and providentially stoppingLaramie before he reached the curtains.

  "Sit down right there," she added, pointing to a table at the rear ofthe lunch room. "I hurried all I could but that rascally milkmanhasn't been here yet and there's no cream for your coffee. Yourdinner's most ready though."

  She started back to the kitchen.

  "Not enough for two, is there?" asked Laramie.

  "Who's coming?" demanded Belle, stopping in her tracks.

  "Belle, you're suspicious as a cattleman. Nobody's coming, but I'mhungry."

  While he continued his banter she served him and attempted to serveKate behind the curtains. By persistent, almost despairing pantomime,Kate dissuaded her from this. But at that moment the front door openedagain, a brisk greeting was called out and a heavy tread crossed theuneven floor of the outer room.

  "John Lefever!" Laramie got up to welcome the big deputy marshal."Just in time. Take off your manners and sit down."

  A bubbling laugh greeted the sally: "Jim, I just can't do it."

  "Oh, yes, you'll eat with me. Where you from?"

  "Bear Dance; and Medici
ne Bend on the next train. Heard you were intown and dropped off for just one hour. Say, this is more like life'sfitful fever to set eyes on you. Heard you were threatened last nightwith appendicitis. How about it?" and John bubbled over again. In thenext breath he greeted Belle as gaily. Laramie asked for another plateand Lefever promptly resumed: "You look kind of down in the mouth, Jim.What's the matter with you?"

  "Nothing's the matter with me."

  Lefever shrugged his shoulders: "You're a kind of low-spirited Indian,anyway. What you doing up in the Falling Wall?"

  "Nothing."

  "Always nothing," repeated Lefever.

  "Better come up," suggested Laramie. "What are you doing?"

  Lefever's eyes expanded with cheer, but his voice choked with emotion:"Doing? Rusting!"

  "That doesn't sound much like 'life's fitful fever.'"

  John glared at his companion: "Life's fitful _fever_! Why, this isonly a passing flash! How about it when you can't raise even a normaltemperature? Fever? I haven't felt so much as a gentle perspirationfor months! The rust is eating into my finger tips," he declared withviolence. "I'm a fat man. A fat man must have action,"--his voicefell--"else he gets fatter. I've got to do something. Once or twiceI've come pretty near having to go to work."

  Laramie's expression may have been skeptical; at all events Johnpointed a corroborating finger at him: "You don't believe it! Just thesame," he added, moodily, "it's straight."

  "What's de Spain doing, John?"

  The tone of the answer bordered on the morose: "Running a nursery atMedicine Bend."

  "Trees?"

  "Trees!" John snortingly invoked the hottest place he could think of."Trees? Babies! Jim," he exclaimed, "I'm no family man--are you?"

  "You like Medicine Bend, don't you?"

  "Too many people there." John settled gloomily back. Then withwide-open eyes he started suddenly forward: "Give me a gun, Jim," hesaid wildly, "a gun and a horse."

  "And a north wind!" exclaimed Laramie.

  "And a high country," cried Lefever with flashing eyes, "a countrywhere you can't see a damned thing in any direction for a hundred andfifty miles!"

  Though talking vigorously he was eating, without protest from Laramie,everything in sight. Kate could not help listening; Lefever's highspirits were contagious.

  "Jim," came next between mouthfuls. "What was that story about youbeing up at the Junction the day I wanted you to serve those papers onold Barb Doubleday?"

  "I went up there that day because I had business of a different kindwith Barb."

  "About the wire ripping, yes. But I heard you got sewed up by a skirtand didn't talk wire to Barb at all."

  "No more of that, John."

  "What was there to it?"

  "I guess there was."

  "A ride or something--what?"

  "Something, John."

  "Thunder! It must have been the ride. I had a deputy marshalship alllined up for you if that hadn't happened. And believe me, boy, adeputy marshalship isn't lying around loose every day!"

  Kate listened keenly for Laramie's comment:

  "The ride was worth the price, John," was all he said.

  "Some skirt, eh?"

  Laramie squirmed and with an expletive protested:

  "Hang it, John----"

  "No matter, no matter. I'll get it all from Belle some day. And afteryou get through with your wire thieves we'll tell the story of yourbrief romance----"

  "Over my grave."

  "Right, Jim--over your grave."

  "John," Laramie ran on, "do you remember that song Tommie Meggeson usedto sing on the round-up--a pretty little thing. It had one good linein it: 'Death comes but once, and then, sometimes--too late.'"

  Belle appeared with a vegetable: "It won't keep you waiting an awfulwhile if things go on the way they're going now," she put in grimly.

  "That was a good song," mused Laramie, "a good old song." But he hearda slight sound in the kitchen and his eyes were turned toward thearchway.

  "Just the same that song won't keep you from getting killed," persistedBelle.

  "Even that would beat appendicitis clean to death, Belle," maintainedLaramie, still listening.

  "You've got lots of time," he added, as Lefever looked at his watch.

  "I haven't," exclaimed his companion. "I've got to send a message.Come over to the train."

  "I've got to write a couple of letters."

  "Come over to the station and write your letters."

  Laramie shook his head: "I couldn't even get to the station by oneo'clock. Every man in Main Street wants to talk about Tom Stone.You'd think I had a million friends among the cattlemen this morning."

  "I heard old Barb Doubleday is grinning like a hangman today."

  "If Belle's got some ink I'll write my letters right here."

  Kate's spirits, which had risen at the hope of being so luckily rid ofone who might prove troublesome, fell at his refusal to leave. Johnurged, but Laramie only asked Belle again for the ink. Lefever triedto coax Belle to go to the train with him. Belle would do almost anyfool thing--as John bluntly averred--but this time she must have hadpity on Kate and would not leave her unprotected. Lefever went hisway. From a shelf near where Kate, with clasped hands, sat in silenceBelle took paper and ink in to Laramie and began to clear the table.

  At this unlucky moment the front door was opened swiftly and a boy fromthe butcher shop stuck his head inside.

  "Miss Shockley," he called, "the milkman is on the 'phone now, if youwant him." Closing the door he ran back across the street. With asense of her wrongs keen upon her, Belle, forgetting her charge in thekitchen, hurried after him.

  Even then, Kate hoped that by keeping deathly still she might escape anunpleasant meeting. She never breathed more carefully in her life, yetshe was doomed. She heard Laramie's chair pushed back and heard hisfootsteps. She could not be sure which way he was walking, but shethought only of flight. As stealthily and rapidly as possible, shestarted for the back door. Without looking around she felt as if hehad come to the archway and was looking at her. With courage andresolve, she grasped the knob to open the door. It was locked. Shefumbled with the key. Behind her, silence. She locked and unlockedthe door more than once, and with a fast-dying hope, for the wretcheddoor would _not_ open. Flushed with annoyance, she turned around onlyto see Laramie standing precisely where she had imagined him.

  They faced each other. Kate could not have found a word to say had herlife depended on it. Laramie held in his left hand an ink bottle, inhis right a pen. He, too, seemed surprised but he recovered himself:"You are certainly unlucky with doors," he said. "If you'll tell mewhere Belle keeps her ink, I'll tell you how to open that," he addedcalmly.

  Kate stiffened and shrugged her shoulders the least bit: "I haven't anyidea where Belle keeps the ink," she replied, clearing her throat ofits huskiness.

  He pointed to beyond where she stood: "I think the ink supply is onthat shelf; she gave me an empty bottle. Should you mind handing meone with ink in it?"

  Kate turned to the shelf: "There seem to be two kinds here," she saidas coldly as possible.

  "Any bottle with a hole in the top will do," he suggested. "This one,"he held the bottle up in his hand and looked at it, "seems to have ahole top and bottom. Give me the blue ink, will you?"

  "I am sure I don't know which is which. Perhaps you had better helpyourself," Kate said icily.

  "Thank you. But I'll show you how to open the door first."

  "Don't trouble yourself."

  "No trouble at all." He walked to the door, explaining as he took holdof the knob: "The door wasn't locked, but the catch held the latch. Icould tell that from the way you handled it. You locked it,yourself----"

  Kate could not hide her resentment: "It wouldn't open when I first tookhold of it," she declared hastily. "I tried it before I touched thekey."

  "That's what I'm explaining. When you did take hold of the ke
y youlocked the door with the dead bolt and then you couldn't open it; soyou unlocked it and tried it again. After that you worked so fast Ilost track." He pointed to the back of the rim lock: "The catch wason." And pushing down the catch, he turned the knob and opened thedoor.

  Kate was thoroughly incensed: "You are doubtless better acquainted herethan I am."

  "To tell the truth, I have to be acquainted with rooms I go into. If_I_ ever tried to get through a door and failed, it might not bepleasant for me. And there's a board fence, six feet high, all aroundthis yard, so unless you're a good climber you couldn't have got outanyway."

  Kate felt she looked very silly, standing staring at him, and perhapslooking frightened--as she really was---for he went on as if he wereexplaining to a child: "I'm not permitted to tell you, but I'm goingto----"

  "Don't bother, please----"

  "Yes, I'd rather: There is a way to get out without climbing the fence;a loose board I'll show you sometime--but you must handle yourself fastto make your get-away."

  "I never expect," she said contemptuously, "to have to make a get-away."

  "Then I was wrong," he returned frankly, "for I kind of thought youwere trying to make one a minute ago."

  His composure irritated Kate: "You are very much mistaken," shedeclared with spirit in her words, for she saw--indeed knew--howpersistent he was. "I was only trying to leave for home quietly andquickly."

  His eyes were a study in silent laughter: "That's all I've ever claimedto be doing, any time in my life."

  "But I can just as well leave by the front door--which, perhaps,"retorted Kate, "you haven't always been able to do."

  "Before you go"--he was standing directly in the archway, so she had tolisten--"tell me about things at the Junction; I hear the lunch roomwas closed up a while ago."

  "It was. But"--Kate thought the time for explanation had come--"I wasnot working at the eating-house when you came in there. I am KateDoubleday and I wanted to save my father that day and I'm not a bitsorry for it."

  "I suppose, then, I ought to speak out, too. I was sure you were KateDoubleday soon after I got into the lunch-room that day and I'm not abit sorry for it. And I knew pretty soon you were trying to save yourfather. And I helped you."

  "Oh--" Kate suppressed an incredulous exclamation.

  "Believe it or not as you like, I helped you. And I'm not a bit sorryfor it. Though he is no friend of mine, you have been, from that dayon; and if you ever give me a chance I'll prove it. The worst thingyou did was to go back on your word----"

  "My word was not freely given," Kate was speaking furiously.

  "It shouldn't have been given at all, then. But it's all right. Willyou be friends with me?"

  "No man that speaks of my father as you spoke of him a moment ago canbe my friend."

  "It was Lefever spoke of your father. I couldn't shut him off. Ofcourse he didn't know you were here. I did know after I'd been hereawhile. I heard you whisper. That's why I asked for the ink--I had noletters to write. There's a lot of hard feeling in this country rightnow. Every man in it has his friends and enemies. You mustn't take itseriously when you hear hard words--I don't; and I hear plenty. Hadn'tyou and I better be friends to begin with, anyway?"

  "No," she exclaimed angrily. "Please let me pass."

  He stepped promptly aside: "I never dreamed of doing anything less."

  Kate started rapidly for the front door. Whom should she run into justas she opened it but Belle coming back from her wretched telephoningand with a bottle of cream! Kate inwardly blamed her for all hertrouble, and she was on edge, besides: "Where you going?" demandedBelle.

  "Home," answered Kate, shortly.

  "Home? You haven't had your lunch."

  "I don't want any."

  Belle caught Kate's arm: "Now you just hold on. What's the matter? Isit Laramie?" Belle must have read her face for she answered nothing,only tried to get away. "But, child!" she exclaimed. "Where's yourcoat--wait till I bring it--and your gloves!" Kate paused at the door.In a minute Belle came running back: "He's gone, absolutely. Thereisn't a soul anywhere about. Now you shan't go till you take a cup ofcoffee. Here's the cream--he left it at the wrong door, the stupid!"

  Kate could not get away. And Belle had told the truth: Laramie wasgone.