The Forfeit Part 41

"The Obar's struck a mighty bad patch, Nan," he said abruptly. "Ef things kep hittin' their present gait, why, I don't jest see wher'

we're to strike bottom. The pinch ain't yet, but you can't never kick out a prop without shakin' the whole darned buildin' mighty bad. An'

that's how the Obar's fixed. Ther's a mighty big punch gone plumb out o' Jeff's fight, an', well, I guess we're needin' all our punch to fix the things crowdin' around us."

"You mean the rustlers?" Nan drove to the heart things without hesitation.

"Sure. Them an'--other things."

The girl nodded. She knew the other things without asking.

"Jeff's in a heap of--trouble," she said with a sigh.

"An' looks like carryin' us along with him--ef we ain't watchin'

around."

"We've always kind of leaned on Jeff."

"Most folks are ready to lean, Nan. It sort o' saves 'em a deal of trouble."

"Yes. Till you kick the prop away."

"Sure. Our prop's been kicked away, an' we've jest got to git right up on to our hind legs an'--git busy. The leanin' racket's played out fer us. We got to hand Jeff a prop now, an' see it don't git kicked away.

See?"

For some moments the girl's gaze searched straight ahead of her down the valley. And into her eyes there grew a gentle light of enthusiasm.

Suddenly she turned upon the great figure on its horse beside her.

"We've stood up on our own years, Daddy--before Jeff came along. We can stand now, can't we? I guess we're not going to fail Jeff now he's in trouble. Jeff's been all for us. We're going to be all for him.

He needs us, Daddy, and--I'm glad in a way. Say, my heart nigh breaks every time I peek into his poor sad an' troubled face. Jeff's just beating his soul dead. And if the Obar gets wrong, it'll sure be the end of everything for him. It mustn't, Daddy. Things mustn't go wrong. 'Deed they mustn't. It's up to us. You must show me how, Daddy. You're wise to it all. You're strong. You know. Show me.

Put me wise, an' I'll--take Jeff's place."

The girl's words came full of a pa.s.sionate sincerity. There were no half measures in this child of the prairie. Her love was given, a wealth of generous feeling and loyal self-sacrifice. Her father read with a rare understanding. And in his big heart, so rough, so warm, he cursed with every forceful epithet of his vocabulary the folly of the man he had marked out for a son.

"We'll make good, or--bust," he said, with a warmth that almost matched the girl's.

Then he pointed ahead where the hollow opened out, and a large clump of trees marked dividing ways.

"I guessed you'd best see this. It's one o' them notions o' Jeff's.

That play ain't worth a cent."

"Ah!"

They rode up to the bluff in silence. And after a moment's search Bud drew rein before a heavy tree trunk, to which was secured a printed sheet. He pointed at it, and, for a while, neither spoke. Nan was taking in the disfigurements with which it was covered, and she read the words written across it in bold but illiterate characters:

"We're wise to her. She don't git no second chanst."

The rest of the disfigurings were mischievous, and of almost indecent character.

"Does Jeff know?" Nan's question was almost a whisper.

"I ain't told him."

Bud's reply was one of doubt.

"He--he ought to be told."

Then Bud suddenly abandoned the restraint he had been exercising.

"Oh ----! Ther' ain't no use. He can't do a thing. He wouldn't do a thing. I tell you we're jest suckin'-kids in this racket. We got to lie around crazy enough to fancy we're goin' to git the drop on these b.u.ms. What a country! What a cuss of a lay-out wher' you got to set around watching a darnation gang o' toughs whittlin' away your work till they got you beat to a mush. Here, I'm goin' to start right in.

I'm goin' to get around Calthorpe. The sheriff's got to git busy, an'

earn his monthly pay check. We'll hev to raise vigilantes. I tell you they'll break us else. Ef Jeff can't see, why, he'll hev to be made to. Blast their louse-bound souls to h.e.l.l!"

And Nan welcomed the outburst. Rough, coa.r.s.e, violent. It did not matter. What mattered to her was the purpose. The purpose which she hoped and prayed would help Jeff. She had no thought for themselves.

Their end of the enterprise never came into her considerations. She was thinking of Jeff. Solely of Jeff--the man she loved better than her life.

The change in Elvine was no less marked than it was in Jeff. But it was a change in a wholly different direction. She was deeply subdued, even submissive in her att.i.tude. But now after the first crisis and its accompanying pain, a general relief was apparent. A relief which anything but indicated the hopelessness which had at the first overwhelmed her. She was not hopeless. Therein lay the key of the matter.

From the time when she had pa.s.sed through those moments of frenzied despair, after Jeff's return from Orrville, her decision had been taken with lightning celerity. Her back was to the wall, and she meant to fight for all she yearned, desired, by every art she possessed. She knew nothing of the reason which had made her husband return to her.

It was sufficient that he had done so. It gave her the vague, wild hope she needed, and with all her might she intended to set herself to the task of winning back her position in his regard.

She was not logical. Had she been, she must have accepted the alternative of freedom offered her, and, on a liberal allowance, betaken herself to some selfish, worldly life which might have appealed to her. No, she was not logical. Had she been, she would never have loved this man as she now knew better than ever she loved him. She was not logical, but she had courage. It was the same courage which had driven her to fight for that which she had desired years ago. She was going to fight now. And again it was for selfish motives. Only this time they took the form of the love of the man she had married.

She set to work from the very start. Her attractions she knew were great. Jeff must be made to realize them. He must be made to realize all a woman could mean in this life which was theirs. She would un.o.btrusively study his interests to the last degree. His position in the ranching world would give her ample scope in this. Then there was the work of the ranch. Here her earlier experiences would help her materially.

So she laid for herself a deliberate campaign. Always counting that his lightest command was her law, and nothing must be permitted to display her desire to break down the barrier he had set up between them.

Two days of deep consideration showed her her course. And once having marked it out she set about following it.

Her house was her first care. It must be ordered as no other house of its kind was ordered. She thought of every expressed wish of his during their brief engagement and honeymoon, and sorted it into its place in scheme.

Then came her place in the work of the range. This was more difficult to take at once by reason of lack of precedent. But by tactful watchfulness she felt it could be accomplished. Her first step must be to impress on Lal Hobhouse her intention, and, in this, even sooner than she had dared to hope, she managed to secure a footing. Once her mind was set to achieve a purpose her capacity was beyond all question, and in these troublous times of rustlers the foreman was more than content to welcome her aid.

Throughout these days she rarely obtruded herself upon the man she desired most in the world. He might almost have been non-existent.

The rare moments in which he spoke to her were met with a cool reserve on her part, which left nothing to be desired, and gave no opportunity for the reopening of those matters which had brought about the position. Indeed, Elvine had more than reason to be satisfied with her work.

She felt at last that the worst was over, and now it remained for her to win back, step by step, the lost ground, until she had restored herself to her position. It could be done. It should be done, she told herself. She admitted no crime against him. Then where was the justice of it? Anyway, that fierce dread was off her mind. She knew the worst now. She no longer stood on the brink of an abyss of doubt----

She was in her bedroom considering these things. It was a golden evening and the setting sun was s.h.i.+ning athwart her windows. Quite suddenly the simple sewing in her fingers dropped upon her lap, and her startled eyes turned upon the wide view of the valley bathed in the perfect evening light.

Was she no longer standing upon that brink? The question flashed through her mind as she remembered an incident until then completely lost in the greater issues. It was the threat of that scrawled note which had been flung in at that very window. She even remembered the sensation of the blow which had awakened her on the night of torture during which she had waited for Jeff's return from Orrville.

She sprang to her feet. Every other thought was swept from her mind.

And, for a moment, fresh panic stirred her veins. The words of that message. They were unforgettable.

"You sold the lives of men for a price. You had your way then. We're goin' to have our way now. You'll pay for that deal the only way we know."