The Song of the Wolf Part 17

"There was too much burned last year," said Dougla.s.s grimly; "we'll try to put it to better use this time. I wonder what's become of him." It was the first reference he had made to Matlock for many weeks. Red spat indifferently.

"Pulled hes freight fer good, I reckon. Mont Butler told me he saw him in Laramie two weeks afteh yuh broke jail." Both men chuckled reminiscently. "He were full o' talk, as usual, but I reckon thet hes blowin' won't cause no cyclones in these yeah pahts. I feel real bad to think thet he didn't stop long enough to say goo'by to me thet night."

As they rode slowly in to lunch, warned by the blowing of a horn in the hands of the impatient Abbie, Dougla.s.s was unusually taciturn. As they unbridled their horses in the barn he said suddenly:

"Red, I'm going to take my vacation to-morrow; will be gone for a month.

Day after to-morrow Mr. and Miss Carter will be at Tin Cup--got a letter from him last week. I want you to go and meet them. Better take the extra wagon for their luggage, as well as the buckboard and Miss Carter's roan; she wants to ride in. The buckboard is for Carter and a woman friend they are bringing with them. Of course you will be in charge while I'm gone. I'm going prospecting and I'll stake you in if I find a gold mine." He said it as a matter of course; these two had become inseparable in most things.

Red grunted suspiciously; he was evidently not so well pleased with prospective riches as he logically should have been.

"Yuh are sh.o.r.e yuh ain't goin' to try an' develop a lead mine in somebody's haid oveh to Laramie?" His tone was almost peevish.

Dougla.s.s gave him a rea.s.suring thump amids.h.i.+ps. "Not this trip, old man.

I am going over to the head of the Roaring Fork to trace up some float I found there two years ago. I'd like mighty well to have you come along, but we both can't leave at the same time, you know."

"It's very rich float," he said that night as they sat discussing final arrangements. "If I ever find that lead, Red, our working days are over.

How'd you like to be a bloated bond-holder, eh, old-timer?"

Red grinned skeptically. "I'm from Texas. Yuh've got ter put it in mah hand."

"But in case we should strike it?" insisted the other with amused curiosity.

Red hung his belt and scabbard on the peg above his bunk; then he hung his sombrero over them, taking considerable time to their satisfactory disposal. But his head was thrown well back and his reply was almost a challenge in its curt incisiveness:

"Then I reckon I wouldn't have to baig what ribbons I took a fancy to."

Dougla.s.s's eyes narrowed to mere slits and he breathed very softly; then his brows unbent again, and he laughed cynically. "That isn't very complimentary to--to wearers of the ribbons, Red. Do you really think money can buy that kind of thing?"

"No, I reckon it wouldn't in her case," said McVey slowly, "but it would give a man thu right to sit in thu game." Then he raised his head proudly, sincerity, truth and resolution glowing in every lineament of his strong, bronzed face: "I love her," he said simply, "an' some day, when I've got thu right to, I'm goin' ter tell her so. An' now that I've been fool enough to let yuh fo'ce my hand, I wan't yuh to know that I only ask a faih field an' no favohs. To h.e.l.l with yuh mine."

He flung angrily out of the house, his spurs clinking as he went. For quite a time Dougla.s.s sat in statuesque silence; then he, too, went out into the night, wending his way to the office, where he wrote far into the wee sma' hours. Finally he dismounted his fountain pen and reread carefully the longer of the four doc.u.ments on which he had been engaged.

They were respectively a complete report of the stewards.h.i.+p, a receipt for one thousand dollars covering his four months' salary (he took that sum in cash from the little safe), a short letter to Mr. Carter, and his resignation. He sealed them all in one envelope, which he addressed and confided to Abbie's care for prompt delivery to Carter on his arrival.

Then he went back to the bunkhouse and in ten minutes was fast asleep.

As he pulled out in the morning Red noted that the horses which he rode and packed were Dougla.s.s's private property. Just before mounting he said, holding McVey's fist in a cordial grip, his other hand upon the brawny shoulder:

"Red, I have decided to make my vacation a permanent one. I am not coming back. You are in full charge now and naturally will be retained in that capacity. You are a square, straight, _white_ man, and I am leaving you a free field. I wish you luck." He rode away, McVey watching him out of sight with wonder and consternation written all over his honest face.

Over at Tin Cup he tarried long enough to bait and rest his horses and bid his friends good-by, confiding to them the scant information that he was tired of ranch work and was going to try his luck at mining. He made all kinds of exaggerated promises to little Eulalie as she clung to him sobbingly, and solemnly pledged himself to kill a bear for Bud, who wanted the hide to make a pair of _chaparejos_.

He remained over night in town, leaving rather late the next day. The animals were fresh and the going good, nevertheless he did not get so far away but what the sweet face of Grace Carter glowed almost life-size in the field of his powerful prism binoculars as she sprang expectantly out of the stage and looked eagerly around with a keen disappointment growing in her eyes as McVey and Abbie alone appeared to welcome her.

He saw her shake hands cordially with the former and a sneer disfigured his mouth; but it involuntarily dissipated as she was buried in the hug of the old woman who was patting her on the shoulder and crying for joy.

He suddenly changed the focus of the gla.s.s as another face came in view; Robert Carter was a.s.sisting a woman to alight and as she reached terra firma the declining sun rays irradiated her face sharply. The man licked his lips nastily: "h.e.l.l!" he muttered with a fierce regret, "why didn't I know that this was coming? Guess I've overlooked the best bet of my life." And that, with Ken Dougla.s.s, was a sin.

He watched them get under way for the ranch, and followed them with his gla.s.s until the distance swallowed them up. He had a broadside view for nearly the whole distance, as their course lay at nearly right angles to his line of vision. Occasionally he looked at the equestrienne on the prancing roan, but for the greater part of the time the lenses were centered on the face and form of the woman in the buckboard.

For the first time in his life Red McVey had dodged a direct issue when Carter had asked him why Dougla.s.s had not met them in person. In response to that question he had equivocally replied that Dougla.s.s had gone away on his vacation and had delegated the duty to him. He was devoutly glad that he was not forced into particulars and avoided any embarra.s.sing questions by devoting himself a.s.siduously to the baggage.

When he opened the envelope which Abbie handed to him after supper, Carter's irritation pa.s.sed all bounds. With a forced politeness he excused himself to his guest and went into the office, where he was shortly joined by his sister, who intuitively surmised that something was wrong. He almost thrust the letter into her hand, asking angrily:

"What the devil is the meaning of all this?"

She scanned the page hurriedly, her face paling as she read. It was very short, but concise:

"DEAR MR. CARTER:--

"In leaving your service I desire to thank you for the many courtesies enjoyed at your hands, and for the flattering confidence you have ever reposed in me. Enclosed please find a full statement of a.s.sets and liabilities which I ask you will confirm at your earliest convenience. I have done my best and I trust that my services have been satisfactory.

"Mr. McVey is perfectly competent to a.s.sume full management of the outfit and I sincerely hope that you will consider him favorably in that connection; he is absolutely honest and dependable, and is, besides, by far the best cowman of my acquaintance. I am recommending him without either his knowledge or consent.

"I have paid myself out of the funds in hand; please find voucher inclosed.

"Wis.h.i.+ng the C-- unbounded prosperity, and yourself the happiness and good fortune you deserve,

Yours very respectfully,

"KENNETH M. DOUGLa.s.s."

Never a word as to his underlying reasons; not an intimation of his future plans and purposes, not even a conventional word of farewell to her. She laid the letter quietly on the table.

"Really, Robert, your question is astonis.h.i.+ng," she said in cold asperity to his reiterated demand. "How could I possibly know of the reasons actuating Mr. Dougla.s.s? He has never taken me into his confidence and so I am more in the dark than you, his professed best friend, should logically be. Of course I share your regret at losing so valuable an employe; but a.s.suredly I am not responsible for it in any way."

Then she swept out haughtily to the entertainment of her guest, leaving him standing there furious and altogether unconvinced. He went over to the bunkhouse to interrogate McVey, but could get no enlightenment from that taciturn individual, who really knew nothing of Dougla.s.s's motives.

So the next morning he made a virtue of necessity and offered the position to Red, who accepted it without comment, merely observing: "I'll try to please yuh."

On leaving her brother, Grace went straight to Mrs. Brevoort with no little embarra.s.sment in her manner. She realized now that both she and Robert had talked a great deal about their recalcitrant manager and she was at a loss how to explain the anomalous situation. But she went the best possible way about it, straight to the point.

"I am afraid that your proposed conquest of all the cowboys on the ranch will have to be deferred in at least one particular instance, Connie,"

she said with a fine attempt at humorous condolence; "the most eligible one, our manager, Mr. Dougla.s.s, having severed his connection with the C Bar, so Bobbie informs me. I am genuinely sorry, for he was 'the n.o.blest Roman of them all'!"

It was cleverly done; so cleverly, in fact, that Constance Brevoort was completely nonplused, astute as she was. Long ago she had arrived at a conclusion not borne out by the seeming indifference of her hostess, who was placidly smiling at the regal beauty in the cozy armchair before the cheerful pinon fire. Under the cover of a pretended pout she watched Grace sharply.

"I have not learned the particulars yet," continued Grace airily, "but I rather suspect that he got forewarned somehow and has beaten a masterly retreat while yet in possession of all his faculties. Seriously, dear, I am sorry that you did not meet him; he is a very attractive man and a forceful one. I am dubious of the outcome of a pa.s.sage between you and him, despite your proficiency in the gentle game of hearts." She was laughing quite naturally now, if a little bitterly; there is much said in jest that is meant in earnest.

Constance somehow detected the false note but gave no sign. She looked up languidly. "Really, I am getting interested. Maybe it is only a pleasure deferred. Is he handsome, this Sir Galahad of yours?" There was a covert malice in the question that failed of its intent, for Grace said steadily:

"Not handsome in the common acceptance of the term, perhaps, but the manliest man I have ever seen."

"And you have seen so many," murmured the other comprehensively. "He interests me more than ever. Is he irrevocably lost to me?"

"That," said Grace truthfully, "I cannot say. It's a small world, you know, and strange things come to pa.s.s." She gave a little retrospective pat to the head of Buffo, lying in her lap. "And some beautiful things pa.s.s for ever." The antelope licked her cheek sympathetically as the last sentence was breathed softly in his ear. Constance Brevoort, unhearing that last piteous cry, smiled confidently.

"It will come to pa.s.s, without question. And then--who knows."

Carter entering at this juncture, the conversation was diverted to other topics. Later that night as Mrs. Brevoort divested herself of the surface paraphernalia of the s.e.x, she smiled approvingly at the revelations of the long cheval mirror in her dressing-room.

She was a handsome young matron of thirty, a perfect specimen of the southern type of brunette, with black eyes and hair, and creamy skin.