CHAPTER XXI
A week sufficed to put the ranchers' ditches and dams in condition totake care of water; but at the end of that time there was little waterto take care of. It was being diverted into the company's ditch system.Their ditches were running full, emptying upon lands on which scarcelya pretence of cultivation was being made, while the actual farmers,just when they needed it most, had barely sufficient water for theirdomestic purposes, for stock, and for their small gardens. There wasnone for the main crops in the fields.
Naturally the crops suffered, the grain most of all. A series of hot,dry winds came. With water they would have done little or no damage;without it the leaves curled, shrivelled, and turned pale, starving forlack of moisture. And the peculiarly galling feature of it was that thewater which would have meant so much was practically running to waste.
In spite of these troubles Casey managed to devote time to his guests.His projected excursion to the foothills was abandoned, but he andClyde rode almost daily. He had reserved his little gray mare, Dolly,for her use, and she was becoming, if not expert, at least confident inthe saddle.
She grew to love the long evenings, the soft twilights, the warm, sweetscent of the grasses, and the great stillness broken only by anoccasional word and the beat of willing hoofs. On these evening ridesshe allowed her imagination to run riot. It pleased her to pretend thatshe and Casey were the only inhabitants of the land--an Eve and Adam ofthe West, pioneers of a remote civilization. All day she looked forwardto this hour or two; at night, in her bed, she lived them over,recreating each mile, each word, each little thing--how the great owlhad sailed ghostly across their path, the gray shape of a coyote fadinginto the dusk, the young broods of grouse hiding in the grass.
Occasionally she undertook to analyze her feelings toward Casey Dunne,but the result was indefinite. She enjoyed his companionship, lookedforward to it, remembered his words, his tricks of manner and speech.But these things, she told herself, were not conclusive.
His sentiments she had no means of judging. He was forever doing littlethings to please her; but then he did as much for others. At times hewas confidential; but he seldom talked of himself, his confidencestaking the form of allowing her to share his private viewpoint,revealing to some extent his mental processes. But he had never saidone word which indicated more than friendship. Clyde saw little ofSheila McCrae. The latter had ridden over once or twice to see, as shesaid, how Casey was treating them. On these occasions Clyde experienceda recurrence of latent hostility. Sheila took no pains whatever withher appearance. She came in a worn riding costume, plain, serviceable,workmanlike; and she talked water and crops and stock with Casey andMcHale, avoiding more feminine topics. If there was any understandingbetween her and Casey it did not appear to Clyde. But it was thisunreasoning hostility more than anything else which made Clyde doubtherself. Was it, she wondered, in reality jealousy?
She put the thought from her indignantly, but it refused to bebanished. She even catalogued her attractions, comparing them with theother girl's. The balance was in her favour; but in the end she feltashamed of herself. Why should she do this? She found no satisfactoryreply.
After a week of the water famine she saw a change in her host. He wasmore silent, thoughtful. Often when they rode together he had nothingto say, staring at the horizon with narrowed eyes.
"Do you ever tell anybody your troubles?" she asked abruptly oneevening. They were riding slowly homeward, and the silence had beenespecially marked.
"Not very often," Casey replied. "People I've met have usually hadenough of their own. They didn't want to hear mine."
"Well, I haven't many troubles, and I'd like to share yours, if I may.I suppose it's this water question."
"Why, yes," he admitted. "It's getting to be a mighty hard thing toswallow--and look pleasant."
"I know." She nodded sympathetically. "You feel helpless."
"Not that exactly. The difficulty is to know just what to do--whetherto do anything or not. The boys are very hostile. It wouldn't take muchto start them."
"In what direction?"
"In any that would give action. They'd like nothing better than openwar."
She exclaimed at the words. "Surely there's no possibility of that?"
"More than a possibility," he returned gravely. "Water is a necessityto us. The people who have taken it do not require it. They haveestablished what is practically an armed camp. Also they have broughtin a number of hard citizens--what are known as 'gunmen'--to overaweus. These patrol their ditch system, and warn us to keep away from it.It is guarded at every important point. Not satisfied with this, someof these fellows have been apparently looking for trouble in town andelsewhere. One of these fine days they will get it."
He shook his head forebodingly. They topped a rise as he spoke. Belowthem lay the line of the company's main canal. As they rode down to ita man on a horse seemed to appear from nowhere in particular, and cametoward them. As he drew nearer Casey recognized the man Cross.
Cross raised his hat in acknowledgment of Clyde's presence. But hiswords to Casey were very much to the point.
"You got notice to keep off this property," said he.
"Well?" said Casey.
"Do it," said Cross. "Hike--meanin' _you_, understand, and not thelady. She's plumb welcome to ride where she likes. I savvy your game,Dunne. You ain't got nerve enough to ride out here alone, and you bringa woman with you to play safe."
Casey paled with anger beneath his tan. "Mr. Cross," he said quietly,"that goes--because the lady is with me. But I rather think one of uswill stay in this country a long time."
"Cheap bluff," Cross sneered. "You ain't goin' to prospect round theseditches, linin' them up for powder. Come here alone, and I'll make youeat the sights off of my gun."
Casey laughed softly--with him most dangerous of signs.
"Mr. Cross, you really amuse me. I won't argue the point just now.Later, perhaps. Good evening."
Clyde had listened in amazement. Once more she had experienced thesensation of standing on the brink of tragedy. Once more it had failedto occur.
"And that's one of the gunmen," said Casey. "That's what we have beenputting up with. I think it will have to stop."
"Don't get into any trouble," she begged. "Promise me you won't. Whatdo you care what men like that say?"
"I'm partly human," he replied grimly. "I can stand as much as mostmen, but there are some things I won't stand. I'm not going to climb atree for any man. However, I won't crowd things with Cross, though Iknow plenty of men that would, on that provocation. I'm all for peaceand a quiet life. You won't think I'm afraid, I hope."
"Certainly not," she said indignantly. "You don't give me much of yourconfidence, but I know you better than to think such a thing. I wishyou would tell me more of what is going on. Let me be your friend, andnot merely your guest. Talk to me as you would to--Miss McCrae."
It was the first time she had spoken to him of Sheila. It was herchallenge. She would be on the same footing.
"Sheila's different," he replied. "Sheila's one of us. I've known herfor years. She's a good deal like a sister."
"Oh," she said, "a _sister_?"
To have saved her immortal soul she could not have kept the note ofsceptical interrogation from the word. He laughed.
"Yes, a sister. Why, great Scott! you didn't think I was in love withher, did you, just because I call her by her first name? I thinkeverything of her, but not in that way. She's a thousand times too goodfor me. Besides, she knows me too well. That's usually fatal tosentiment. That's why no man is a hero to his wife."
"How do you know he isn't? Kitty Wade simply worships her husband."
"Maybe. But I'll bet his pedestal isn't nearly so high as it was beforethey were married. When you marry, Miss Burnaby"--he smiled at herfrankly--"you will occupy the pedestal yourself."
"Doesn't your rule work both ways?" she laughed.
"I won't admit it--to you, anyway."
"Why not--to m
e?"
"Because Wade tells me no man can be forced to incriminate himself," hereplied.
Clyde glanced at him swiftly, flushing in the dusk. But she did notpress for an explanation. She was satisfied. She was no longer jealousof Sheila McCrae.
When they arrived at the ranch Dunne took the horses to the stables.Clyde, entering the house, found Wade alone, deep in newspapers, theaccumulation of a week which he had just received. There was a packageof letters for Clyde.
"Look here, Clyde," said the lawyer. "Here's a funny thing." He held anewspaper open at the market page. "This Western Airline stock is asjumpy as a fever chart. For a while it went down and down and down,away below what I should think to be its intrinsic value. There was arumour of a passed dividend. Nothing definite--merely a rumour. Thencame another rumour of an application for a charter for a competingline. Both these stories seem to have brought out considerable stock.There was heavy selling. Likely the traders went short. I'll bet someof them were nipped, too, for the market went up without warning--yes,by George! bounced like a rubber ball."
Clyde looked up from a letter which enclosed a formal-lookingstatement. "What would send it up?"
"Buyers in excess of sellers--in other words, demand in excess ofsupply," Wade responded. "That's on the face of it. Probably not half adozen men know the inside. Orders may have been issued to support thestock--that is, to buy all offered in order to keep the price fromdeclining farther. It's hard to say, at this distance. It's possiblethat the depressing rumours may have originated with the very men whoare now supporting the stock."
"Why should they do that?"
"To buy more cheaply shares which would be offered in consequence. It'sfunny, though," he continued, opening another paper. "Now, here's alater date--let's see--yes, here we are. The market opened five pointshigher than it closed on the preceding day, and it closed ten pointsabove that opening. Holy Moses! do you know what that means?"
"Demand in excess of supply."
"Demand! Supply!" Wade echoed contemptuously. "Economics be hanged! Itmeans a fight for Western Air. It means that somebody is willing to paya fancy price for shares. Why? Because a few shares one way or theother mean the ownership of the road, the dictation of its policy.There's no other explanation. I wonder who----"
"Look at this," said Clyde. She handed him a telegram. He read:
Sell nothing whatever until you hear from me. Instruct Bradley & Gauss.
JIM.
Wade's lips puckered in a noiseless whistle. He did not need to be toldthat "Jim" was Clyde's uncle, wily old Jim Hess, of the Hess System. Itwas he who was out gunning for York and Western Air, and he had thereputation of getting what he went after. What his tactics had beenWade could only surmise. But the antics of the stock were proof that hewas in earnest.
"Well," he queried, "what do you know about this, young lady? Have youbeen holding out on me?"
"I haven't much information," she replied. "Bradley & Gauss are mybrokers. They have been buying Western Air for me as it was offered.There's their statement. Uncle Jim told me to buy it--said that itought to be worth as much as Hess System some day."
"Heavens! What a tip!" Wade exclaimed. "This will be good news forCasey."
"I don't want him to know."
"Why not?"
"Well, he--he--that is, he might be disappointed. Uncle Jim may not getcontrol. If he does he'll treat everybody fairly, of course. I don'twant to raise false hopes."
"Considerate of you," said Wade, "not to say ingenious."
She flushed angrily for a moment, and then laughed.
"It's all the reason you'll get. Be a good friend, do. Promise! Alsoyou are to say nothing to Kitty."
"Afraid of being jollied?"
"Mr. Wade, you are impertinent!" But her eyes laughed at him.
"I'll keep your dark secret," said Wade. "It will be a joke on Kitty!"
And so Casey Dunne was left in ignorance.