The Cattle-Baron's Daughter
V
HETTY COMES HOME
It was an afternoon of the Indian summer, sunny and cool, and the maplesabout the Schuyler villa flamed gold and crimson against a sky of softestblue, when Hetty Torrance sat reflectively silent on the lawn. FloraSchuyler sat near her, with a book upside down upon her knee.
"You have been worrying about something the last few weeks," she said.
"Is that quite unusual?" asked Hetty. "Haven't a good many folks to worryall the time?"
Flora Schuyler smiled. "Just finding it out, Hetty? Well, I have noticed achange, and it began the day you waited for us at the depot. And it wasn'tbecause of Jake Cheyne."
"No," said Hetty reflectively. "I suppose it should have been. Have youheard from him since he went away?"
"Lily Cheyne had a letter with some photographs, and she showed it to me.It's a desolate place in the sage bush he's living in, and there's not awhite man, except the boys he can't talk to, within miles of him, whilefrom the picture I saw of his adobe room I scarcely think folks would haveit down here to keep hogs in. Jake Cheyne was fastidious, too, and therewas a forced cheerfulness about his letter which had its meaning, though,of course, he never mentioned you."
Hetty flushed a trifle. "Flo, I'm sorry. Still, you can't blame me."
"No," said Miss Schuyler, "though there was a time when I wished I could.You can't help being pretty, but it ought to make you careful when you seeanother of them going that way again."
Hetty made a little impatient gesture. "If there ever is another, he'll bepulled up quite sharp. You don't think their foolishness, which spoilseverything, is any pleasure to me. It's too humiliating. Can't one befriends with a nice man without falling in love with him?"
"Well," said Miss Schuyler drily, "it depends a good deal on how you'remade; but it's generally risky for one or the other. Still, perhaps youmight, for I have a fancy there's something short in you. Now, I'm goingto ask you a question. Is it thinking of the other man that has made yourestless? I mean the one we saw at the depot?"
Hetty laughed outright. "Larry? Why, as I tried to tell you, he has alwaysbeen just like a cousin or a brother to me, and doesn't want anything buthis horses and cattle and his books on political economy. Larry's quitehappy with his ranching, and his dreams of the new America. Of course,they'll never come to anything; but when you can start him talking they'requite nice to listen to."
Flora Schuyler shook her head. "I wouldn't be too sure. That man is inearnest, and the dreams of an earnest American have a way of coming true.You have known him a long while, and I've only seen him once, but that manwill do more than talk if he ever has the opportunity. He has the quietgrit one finds in the best of us--not the kind that make the speeches--andsome Englishmen, in him. You can see it in his eyes."
"Then," said Hetty, with a little laugh, "come back with me to Cedar, andif you're good you shall have him. It isn't everybody I'd give Larry to."
There was a trace of indignation in Flora Schuyler's face. "I fancy hewould not appreciate your generosity, and there's a good deal you have gotto find out, Hetty," she said drily. "It may hurt you when you do. But youhaven't told me yet what has been worrying you."
"No," said Hetty, with a little wistful smile. "Well, I'm going to. It'shard to own to, but I'm a failure. I fancied I could make everybody listento my singing, and I would come here. Well, I came, and found out that myvoice would never bring me fame, and for a time it hurt me horribly.Still, I couldn't go back just then, and when you and your mother pressedme I stayed. I knew what you expected, and I disappointed you. Perhaps Iwas too fastidious, but there were none of them that really pleased me.Then I began to see that I was only spoiling nicer girls' chances andtrying the patience of everybody."
"Hetty!" said Flora Schuyler, but Miss Torrance checked her.
"Wait until I'm through. Then it became plain to me that while I'd beenwasting my time here the work I was meant for was waiting at Cedar. Theold man who gave me everything is very lonely there, and he and Larry havebeen toiling on while I flung 'most what a ranch would cost away onlessons and dresses and fripperies, which will never be any good to me.Still, I'm an American, too, and now, when there's trouble coming, I'mgoing back to the place I belong to."
"You are doing the right thing now," said Flora Schuyler.
Hetty smiled somewhat mirthlessly. "Well," she said, "because it's hard, Iguess I am; but there's one thing would make it easier. You will come andstay with me. You don't know how much I want you; and New York in winterdoesn't suit you. You're pale already. Come and try our clear, dry cold."
Eventually Miss Schuyler promised, and Hetty rose. "Then it's fixed," shesaid. "I'll write the old man a dutiful letter now, while I feel likedoing it well."
The letter was duly written, and, as it happened, reached Torrance as hesat alone one evening in his great bare room at Cedar Range. Among thepapers on the table in front of him were letters from the cattle-men'scommittees, which had sprung into existence every here and there, andTorrance apparently did not find them reassuring, for there was care inhis face. It had become evident that the big ranchers' rights were mostlytraditional, and already, in scattered detachments, the vanguard of thehomesteaders' host was filing in. Here and there they had made theirfooting good; more often, by means not wholly constitutional, theiroutposts had been driven in; but it was noticeable that Torrance and hisneighbours still believed them no more than detachments, and had not heardthe footsteps of the rest. Three years' residence in that land had changedthe aliens into American citizens, but a lifetime of prosperity couldscarcely efface the bitterness they had brought with them from the east,while some, in spite of their crude socialistic aspirations, were drilledmen who had herded the imperial legions like driven cattle into Sedan.More of native birth, helots of the cities, and hired hands of the plains,were also turning desiring eyes upon the wide spaces of the cattlecountry, where there was room for all.
Torrance opened his letter and smiled somewhat drily. It was affectionateand not without its faint pathos, for Hetty had been stirred when shewrote; but the grim old widower felt no great desire for the gentleattentions of a dutiful daughter just then.
"We shall be at Cedar soon after you get this," he read among the rest. "Iknow if I had told you earlier you would have protested you didn't wantme, just because you foolishly fancied I should be lonely at the Range;but I have been very selfish, and you must have been horribly lonely too;and one of the nicest girls you ever saw is coming to amuse you. You can'thelp liking Flo. Of course I had to bring a maid; but you will have tomake the best of us, because you couldn't stop us now if you wanted to."
It was noticeable that Torrance took the pains to confirm this fact byreference to a railroad schedule, and, finding it incontrovertible, shookhis head.
"Three of them," he said.
Then he sat still with the letter in his hand, while a trace of tendernesscrept into his face, which, however, grew grave again, until there was atapping at the door, and Clavering came in.
"You seem a trifle worried, sir, and if you're busy I needn't keep youlong," he said. "I just wanted to hand you a cheque for the subscriptionyou paid for me."
"Sit down," said Torrance. "Where did you get the dollars from?"
Clavering appeared almost uneasy for a moment, but he laughed. "I've beenthinning out my cattle."
"That's not a policy I approve of just now. We'll have the rabble downupon us as soon as we show any sign of weakening."
Clavering made a little deprecatory gesture. "It wasn't a question ofpolicy. I had to have the dollars. Still, you haven't told me if you haveheard anything unpleasant from the other committees."
Torrance appeared thoughtful. He suspected that Clavering's ranch wasembarrassed, and the explanation was plausible.
"No," he said. "It was something else. Hetty is on her way home, and sheis bringing another young woman and a maid with her. They will be herebefore I can stop them. Still, I could, if it was necessary, send themba
ck."
Clavering did not answer for a moment, though Torrance saw the faint gleamin his dark eyes, and watched him narrowly. Then he said, "You will find achange in Miss Torrance, sir. She has grown into a beautiful young woman,and has, I fancy, been taught to think for herself in the city; you couldnot expect her to come back as she left the prairie. And if anything hasinduced her to decide that her place is here, she will probably stay."
"You're not quite plain. What could induce her?"
Clavering smiled, though he saw that the shot had told. "It wasastonishing that Miss Torrance did not honour me with her confidence. Asense of duty, perhaps, although one notices that the motives of youngwomen are usually a trifle involved. It, however, appears to me that ifMiss Torrance makes up her mind to stay, we are still quite capable ofguarding our women from anxiety or molestation."
"Yes," said Torrance grimly. "Of course. Still, we may have to do thingswe would sooner they didn't hear about or see. Well, you have some news?"
Clavering nodded. "I was in at the railroad, and fifty Dakota men came inon the cars. I went round to the hotel with the committee, and, though itcost some dollars to fix the thing, they wouldn't take them in. The boys,who got kind of savage, found a pole and drove the door in, but we turnedthe Sheriff, who had already sworn some of us in, loose on them. Four orfive men were nastily clubbed, and one of James's boys was shot throughthe arm, while I have a fancy that the citizens would have stood in withthe other crowd; but seeing they were not going to get anything to eatthere, they held up a store, and as we told the man who kept it how theirfriends had sacked Regent, he fired at them. The consequence is that theSheriff has some of them in jail, and the rest are camped down on theprairie. We hold the town."
"Through the Sheriff?"
Clavering laughed. "He'll earn his pay. Has it struck you that thiscampaign is going to cost us a good deal? Allonby hasn't much left in handalready."
"Oh, yes," said the older man, with a little grim smile. "If it's wantedI'll throw my last dollar in. Beaten now and we're beaten for ever. Wehave got to win."
Clavering said nothing further, though he realized, perhaps more clearlythan his leader, that it was only by the downfall of the cattle-men thesmall farmer could establish himself, and, when he had handed a cheque toTorrance, went out.
It was three days later when Hetty Torrance rose from her seat in a bigvestibule car as the long train slackened speed outside a little Westernstation. She laughed as she swept her glance round the car.
"Look at it, Flo," she said; "gilding and velvet and nickel, all quite inkeeping with the luxury of the East. You are environed by civilizationstill; but once you step off the platform there will be a difference."
Flora Schuyler, who noticed the little flush in her companion's face,glanced out of the dusty window, for the interior of the gently-rockingcar, with its lavish decoration and upholstery, was not new to her, andthe first thing that caught her eye was the miscellaneous deposit ofrubbish, old boots, and discarded clothing, amidst the willows that slowlyflitted by. Then she saw a towering water-tank, wooden houses that rosethrough a haze of blowing dust, hideous in their unadornment, against acrystalline sky, and a row of close-packed stock-cars which announced thatthey were in the station.
It seemed to be thronged with the populace, and there was a murmur,apparently of disappointed expectancy, when, as the cars stopped, thethree women alone appeared on the platform. Then there was a shout for theconductor, and somebody said, "You've no rustlers aboard for us?"
"No," said the grinning official who leaned out from the door of thebaggage-car. "The next crowd are waiting until they can buy rifles to whipyou with."
Hoarse laughter followed, and somebody said, "Boys, your friends aren'tcoming. You can take your band home again."
Then out of the clamour came the roll of a drum, and, clear and musical,the ringing of bugles blown by men who had marched with Grant and Shermanwhen they were young. The effect was stirring, and a cheer went up, forthere were other men present in whom the spirit which, underlyingimmediate issues, had roused the North to arms was living yet; but itbroke off into laughter when, one by one, discordant instruments andbeaten pans joined in. The din, however, ceased suddenly, when somebodysaid, "Hadn't you better let up, boys, or Torrance will figure you sentthe band for him?"
Miss Schuyler appeared a trifle bewildered, the maid frightened; butHetty's cheeks were glowing.
"Flo," she said, "aren't you glad you came? The boys are taking the trail.We'll show you how we stir the prairie up by and by!"
Miss Schuyler was very doubtful as to whether the prospect afforded herany pleasure; but just then a grey-haired man, dressed immaculately inwhite shirt and city clothes, kissed her companion, and then, taking offhis hat, handed her down from the platform with ceremonious courtesy. Hehad a grim, forceful face, with pride and command in it, and MissSchuyler, who felt half afraid of him then, never quite overcame thefeeling. She noticed, however, that he paid equal attention to theterrified maid.
"It would be a duty to do our best for any of Hetty's friends who havebeen so kind to her in the city, but in this case it's going to be aprivilege, too," he said. "Well, you will be tired, and they have a mealwaiting you at the hotel. This place is a little noisy to-day, but we'llstart on the first stage of your journey when you're ready."
He gave Miss Schuyler his arm, and moved towards the thickest of thecrowd, which, though apparently slightly hostile, made way for him. Hereand there a man drove his fellows back, and one, catching up a looseplank, laid it down for the party to cross the rail switches on. Torranceturned to thank him, but the man swept his hat off with a laugh.
"I wouldn't worry; it wasn't for you," he said. "It's a long while sincewe've seen anything so pretty as Miss Torrance and the other one."
Flora Schuyler flushed a little, but Hetty turned to the speaker with asparkle in her eyes.
"Now," she said, "that was 'most worth a dollar, and if I didn't know whatkind of man you were, I'd give it you. But what about Clarkson's Lou?"
There was a laugh from the assembly, and the man appeared embarrassed.
"Well," he said slowly, "she went off with Jo."
Miss Torrance nodded sympathetically. "Still, if she knew no better thanthat, I wouldn't worry. Jo had a cast in his eye."
The crowd laughed again, and Flora Schuyler glanced at her companion withsome astonishment as she asked, "Do you always talk to them that way?"
"Of course," said Hetty. "They're our boys--grown right here. Aren't theysplendid?"
Miss Schuyler once more appeared dubious, and made no answer; but shenoticed that the man now preceded them, and raised his hand when they cameup with the band, which had apparently halted to indulge in retort orbadinage with some of those who followed them.
"Hold on a few minutes, boys, and down with that flag," he said.
Then a tawdry banner was lowered suddenly between two poles, but notbefore Miss Torrance had seen part of the blazoned legend. Its unvarnishedforcefulness brought a flush to her companion's cheek.
"Dad," she asked more gravely, "what is it all about?"
Torrance laughed a little. "That," he said, "is a tolerably big question.It would take quite a long while to answer it."
They had a street to traverse, and Hetty saw that it was filled withlittle knots of men, some of whom stared at her father, though as shepassed their hats came off. Miss Schuyler, on her part, noticed that mostof the stores were shut, and felt that she had left New York a long waybehind as she glanced at the bare wooden houses cracked by frost and sun,rickety plank walks, whirling wisps of dust, and groups of men, splendidin their lean, muscular symmetry and picturesque apparel. There was aboldness in their carriage, and a grace that approached the statuesque inevery poise. Still, she started when they passed one wooden building whereblue-shirted figures with rifles stood motionless in the verandah.
"The jail," said Torrance, quietly. "The Sheriff has one or two rioterssafe inside there."
>
They found an indifferent meal ready at the wooden hotel, and when theydescended in riding dress a wagon with their baggage was waiting outsidethe door, while a few mounted men with wide hats and bandoliers came upwith three saddle-horses. Torrance bestowed the maid in the light wagon,and, when the two girls were mounted, swung himself into the saddle. Then,as they trotted down the unpaved street, Hetty glanced at him and pointedto the dusty horsemen.
"What are the boys for?" she asked.
Torrance smiled grimly. "I told you we had our troubles. It seemed betterto bring them, in case we had any difficulty with Larry's friends."
"Larry's friends?" asked Hetty, almost indignantly.
Torrance nodded. "Yes," he said. "You have seen a few of them. They werecarrying the flag with the inscription at the depot."
Hetty asked nothing further, but Flora Schuyler noticed the little flashin her eyes, and as they crossed the railroad track the clear notes of thebugles rose again and were followed by a tramp of feet. Glancing overtheir shoulders the girls could see men moving in a body, with the flagthey carried tossing amidst the dust. They were coming on in open fours,and when the bugles ceased deep voices sent a marching song ringing acrossthe wooden town.
Hetty's eyes sparkled; the stockriders seemed to swing more lightly intheir saddles, and Flora Schuyler felt a little quiver run through her.Something that jingling rhythm and the simple words expressed butinarticulately stirred her blood, as she remembered that in her nation'slast great struggle the long battalions had limped on, ragged andfootsore, singing that song.
"Listen," said Hetty, while the colour crept into her face. "Oh, I knowit's scarcely music, and the crudest verse; but it served its purpose, andis there any nation on earth could put more swing and spirit into thegrandest theme?"
Torrance smiled somewhat drily, but there was a curious expression in hisface. "Some of those men are drawing their pension, but they're not withus," he said. "It's only because we have sent in all the boys we can sparethat the Sheriff, who has their partners in his jail, can hold the town."
A somewhat impressive silence followed this, and Flora Schuyler glanced atHetty when they rode out into the white prairie with two dusty men withbandoliers on either flank.