Laramie Holds the Range

  CHAPTER VII

  THE CLOSE OF THE DAY

  They rode straight home. On the way Dick went lame and both dismountedto examine him. "This will make you miss your train," she suggested,hypocritically.

  He had Dick's foot up. His comment on the remark was very like therest of his comments. "Not this," he said--and without looking up.

  "Do you mean to say you've missed it anyway?" asked Kate.

  "What does the sun say?"

  She bit her lip: "Too bad," she exclaimed, looking across the distancethat still lay between them and the Junction.

  "I don't see anything wrong with his foot," he announced, completinghis inspection. "I think he wrenched himself."

  He said no more till they started again. And then resumed in his oddway just where they had left off talking: "I've been trying to figureout why you wanted me to miss the train." She looked at him insurprise. "I think you did want me to," he continued. "But I can'tfigure out why."

  She protested, but not with too many words. She felt sure he was noteasily to be deceived. In any case, however, he was unflinchinglyamiable.

  After they got back to the Junction the totally unexpected happened.They dismounted and she went into the lunch room. Her victim pursuedan examination of Dick's leg. An early supper was being served in thedining-room to a freight train crew. Two of the Doubleday cowboys fromthe ranch came into the lunch-room from the front door. Kate, at thedesk, was making ready to manage her own escape from the scene. Thesmaller cowboy, walking in last, looked back curiously at her ridingcompanion as he stood with Dick's hoof on his knee. The man slouchedup to the counter: "Wouldn't that kill you?" muttered the smaller manto his partner.

  "What do you mean?" demanded the other.

  The first speaker hitched his thumb guardedly over his shoulder: "Knowwho that is out there?"

  "No, I don't--who is he?"

  Kate's ears were wide open: "None other," continued the man, pulling aface, "than the well-known Jim Laramie himself." His partner checkedhim and the two, talking in low tones, walked into the dining-room.

  Kate could not at first believe her ears; then she felt that the cowboymust know what he was talking about.

  Worst of all, Laramie, at that moment--before she could think ofcollecting herself--walked in through the open door. He came directlyto the counter. She hardly attempted to hide her consternation: "Areyou Jim Laramie?" she burst out in her excitement.

  It must have been the manner of her words rather than the wordsthemselves that startled him. For just an instant the curtain lifted;a flash of anger shot from his eyes; it was drawn again at once: "Is myreputation over here as bad as that?" he asked.

  Kate was dumb. Try as she would, she could not think of a thing tosay; the recollection of her reckless ride overwhelmed her. "What'shappened?" he continued with a little irritation. "If you weren'tafraid of me when you didn't know my name, why be afraid now?"

  She stammered something, some apology, which he received, she afterwardthought, coldly: "I'm running up to the house now to change," she wenton hurriedly, "but I must thank you for----"

  What on earth was she to thank him for? He helped her out: "Before yougo," he interrupted, sitting up on the counter stool nearest her andlooking at her without paying the slightest attention to hermeaningless words, "before you go, tell me your name."

  Oddly enough, by just speaking he restored order to her faculties. Shelooked straight at him: "You guessed that this morning," she saidfrankly.

  "Kate?"

  She nodded.

  "That's queer," he mused. "It must've been pure accident. I heardthat the man I came to round up today had a girl named Kate, so Isuppose that was the first name came into my head. Kate, what else?"

  "Suppose," she suggested gravely, "we keep the rest for the next time."

  "For our next ride?"

  She looked just away from his persistent eyes: "Perhaps."

  "Will your name," he went on, "surprise me as much as my name surprisedyou?"

  "Who knows?" she retorted, and speaking she started for the front door.

  "Stop." He stepped in front of her just enough to bar her way. Therewas a tinge of command in his voice and manner quite new. Halted, butnot pleased, she waited for him to go on: "You'll come back, won't you?"

  "I'll try to."

  "I want to listen," he added coolly, "to the worst story you ever heardabout Jim Laramie."

  "I don't pay much attention to cowboy stories."

  He certainly paid no attention to her words: "Will you come back?" hepersisted.

  "I will if I can," she said, confusedly.

  He was just enough in front of her to detain her: "Say you will."

  It was somewhat between command and entreaty. Old Henry at the side ofthe platform was just mounting the dun horse. Kate was gettingpanicky: "Very well," she answered, "I'll come back."

  The moment she got to the cottage she locked the front door and drewall the shades. And every mouthful of the cold supper she ate with herfather lodged in her throat. To him she dared not say a word. Once inthe evening the door bell rang and some man asked for Barb Doubleday.He made a few inquiries when Henry answered that Doubleday was not intown, but he did not ask for Kate. She felt curious tremors, listeningto the low voice. But Laramie--for it was he--presently turned fromthe door and she heard his footsteps crunching down the gravel path tothe street.

  In the morning Henry told her a man had lingered around the lunch roomuntil the lights were put out at ten o'clock. By that time he musthave known every pine knot in the varnished ceiling. When peaceablyput out of the room by the night man he had walked out on the platformto the post where the horses had stood and looked long across thetracks toward Doubleday's cottage on the hill. No lights were burningin the cottage. He turned to walk toward it. But as he stepped intothe street the whistle of the eastbound Overland train sounded in thehills to the west. Evidently this changed his mind, for he retracedhis steps and entered the waiting-room, walked to the ticket window andbought a ticket for Sleepy Cat. He waited until the train pulled inand loitered on the platform till it was ready to pull out, speaking tono one. When the conductor finally gave the starting signal the manlooked for the last time around toward the lunch room door. Everythingwas dark.

  He caught the hand rail of the last open sleeper and swung up on thestep. There he stood looking down the platform and across the streetwhile the train drew slowly out. Then turning to go into the car heuttered only one word to himself--and that a mild one: "Gypped!"

  But, even then, had Kate heard it she would have been frightened.