Bruce of the Circle A Part 18

Weyl shrugged his shoulders.

"The individuals, the parties concerned, are the only ones who know that."

"When they do know, when they don't give up even then? What are you goin' to do 'bout that?"

The other man shook his head sadly.

"There are many things that you and I--that society--must do, Bruce, my son. It's up to us to change our att.i.tude, to change our way of looking at human relations, to pull off the bandages that are blinding our eyes and see the true G.o.d. Other things besides marriage demand that unerring sight, too....'

"But what I'm gettin' at," broke in the other, pulling him back to the question of matrimony, "is, what are you goin' to do, when you know G.o.d ain't ridin' with a couple, when it's a sin for 'em to be together, but when th' man holds to his wife like I'd hold to a cow with my brand on her, an' when th' woman--maybe--hangs to him 'cause she thinks th' Lord _has_ had somethin' to do with it."

"In that case, if she thinks of the Father's connection as an affair of the past, she must know it is no longer holy; someone should open her eyes, someone who is unselfish, who has a perspective, who is willing to be patient and help her, to suffer with her, if need be."

"You wouldn't recommend that a party who sort of hankered to wring th'

husband's neck an' who thought the wife was 'bout th' finest thing G.o.d ever put breath into, start out to tackle th' job, would you?"

Weyl rubbed his chin in thoughtful consideration; then replied slowly:

"No, it is our duty to give the blind sight; we can only do that by knowing that our motives are holy when we undertake the job. That is the first and only matter to consider. Beyond motives, we cannot judge men and women....

"My bishop would drop dead before me, Bruce, if he heard that."

The other was silent a moment; then he said, slowly, "I wish some of us miser'ble sinners could be so open minded as some of you G.o.d fearin', h.e.l.l-preachin' church goers!"

After a long interval, in which their discussion rambled over a score of topics, Bayard left.

"If you ever get near th' Circle A in that chariot of fire, I hope she goes up in smoke, so you'll have to stay a while!" he said. "An' I hope M's. Weyl's with you when it happens."

"Your wishes for bad luck are only offset by the hope that sometime we can come and spend some days with you, my friend!" laughed the minister as they shook hands.

Ann and Nora had returned when Bruce reached the Manzanita House and in the former's room a few moments later, after he had reported on Lytton's slow gaining of strength, Bayard said to her,

"Do you believe what I tell you, ma'am?"

She looked at him as though she did not get his meaning, but saw he was in earnest and replied,

"I've never doubted a thing you've told me."

"Then I want you to believe one more thing I'm goin' to tell you, an' I don't want you to ask me any questions about it, cause I'm so hogtied--that is, situated, ma'am--that I can't answer any. I just want to tell you never to let your husband go back to th' Sunset mine."

"Never to _let_ him? Why, when he's himself again that's where his work will be--"

"I can't help that, ma'am. All I can say is, not to let him. It means more to you than anybody can think who don't know th' ways of men in a country like this. Just remember that, an' believe that, will you?"

"You want him to give up everything?"

"All I want, ma'am, is for you to say you'll never let him go there."

Finally, she unwillingly, uncomprehendingly, agreed to do all she could to prevent Ned's return to the mining camp.

"Then, that's all, for now," Bayard announced, dryly, and went from the room.

Their hands had not touched; there had been no word, no glance suggestive of the emotional outburst which characterized their last meeting, and, when he was gone, the woman, with all her conscience, felt a keen disappointment.

CHAPTER XI

THE STORY OF ABE

True to her promise to Bruce, Nora had taken Ann in hand. She proposed that they ride together the day after the man had suggested such a kindness and the step was met most enthusiastically by the eastern woman, for it promised her relief from the anxiety provoked by mere waiting.

"I know nothing about this, so you'll have to tell me everything, Nora,"

she said as, in a new riding skirt, she settled herself in the saddle and felt her horse move under her.

"I don't know much either," the girl replied, fussing with her blouse front. "I was learnt to ride by a fine teacher, but I was so busy learnin' 'bout him that I didn't pay much attention to what he said."

She looked up shyly, yet her mouth was set in determination and she forced herself to meet Ann Lytton's gaze, to will to be kind to her ...

because Bruce had asked it. Her thinly veiled declaration of interest in Bayard was not made without guile. It was a timid expression of her claim to a free field. Perhaps, beneath all her sense of having failed in the big ambition of her life, was a hope. This eastern woman was married. Nora knew Bruce, knew his close adherence to his own code of morals, and she believed that something possibly might come to pa.s.s, some circ.u.mstance might arise which would take Ann out of their lives before the control that Bayard had built about his natural impulses could be broken down. That would leave her alone with the rancher, to wors.h.i.+p him from a distance, to find a great solace in the fact that though he refused to be her lover no other woman was more intimately in his life. That hope prompted her mild insinuation of a right of priority.

Ann caught something of the subtle enmity which Nora could not wholly cover by her outward kindness. She had heard Nora's and Bruce's names a.s.sociated about the hotel, and when, on speaking of Bayard, she saw her companion become more shy, felt her unconscious hostility increase perceptibly, she deduced the reason. With her conclusion came a feeling of resentment and with a decided shock Ann realized that she was prompted to be somewhat jealous of this daughter of the west. Indignant at herself for what she believed was a mean weakness she resolved to refrain from talking of Bruce to Nora for the sake of the girl's peace of mind, although she could not help wondering just how far the affair between the waitress and her own extraordinary lover had gone.

Keeping off the subject was difficult, for the two were so far apart, their viewpoints so widely removed, that they had little or no matter on which to converse, aside from Yavapai and its people; and of the community Bayard was the outstanding feature for them both.

"How long have you been here, Nora?" Ann asked.

"Three years; ever since Bruce got me my job."

There you were!

"Do you like it here?"

"Well, folks have showed me a good time; Bruce especially."

Again the talk was stalled.

"Were you born out here?"

"Yes; that's why I ain't got much education ... except what Bruce gave me."

Once more; everything on which they could converse went directly back to Bayard and, finally, Ann abandoned the attempt to avoid the embarra.s.sing subject and plunged resolutely into it, hoping to dissipate the intangible barrier that was between them.

"Tell me about Bruce," she said. "He brought you here, he educated you; he must have been very kind to you. He must be unusual,"--looking at the other girl to detect, if she could, any misgiving sign.

Nora stared straight ahead.