The Land of Strong Men Part 32

"I tell you, Willoughby," Gerald French was saying, "you are quite mistaken. Nothing of the sort happened.

"I saw it," Willoughby maintained doggedly.

"You are a guest," said Gerald, "but don't abuse your privileges."

"I am aware of my obligations as a guest," Willoughby retorted, "but they do not include allowing myself to be rooked at cards."

Instantly Gerald struck him hard across the mouth and Willoughby lashed back. Another guest sought to interfere. Young Larry pushed him back.

"Keep out!" he said. "Mind your own business."

"Keep your hands off me!" the other returned, and caught at his arm.

Larry pinned him, and somebody else tried to pull him loose. Larry came loose with remarkable alacrity, and did so hitting with both hands.

Gavin, pus.h.i.+ng forward, was caught by two men. Instantly a rough-house started.

Angus sat where he was, taking no part. He saw Chetwood plunge into the fray and go back from a straight punch. Gavin shook off three men as a bear shakes clear of a worrying pack, and as he did so another man who had caught up a chair, swung it at his head. The big man partially dodged the blow, wrenched the chair away and brandished it high. As he did so he emitted a short, deep roar of anger.

Fearing that somebody might be seriously hurt, Angus decided to interfere. He leaped forward and caught the chair as it poised for a moment aloft.

"Don't do that," he said. Gavin's ordinarily cold eyes were blazing.

"Keep out of this," he said. "It's nothing to you." As he spoke he tried to wrench the chair free; but Angus' grip held. Letting go himself, the big man clinched him.

Angus felt himself caught in a tremendous grip; but the wrench and heave that followed did not pluck him from his footing. He locked his long arms around Gavin, and the arch of his back and the sinews of his braced legs held against him.

Suddenly Gavin gave ground, swung and tripped with the heel. Angus felt himself going, but he took his man with him. They rolled over and over.

By this time Angus had lost all his indifference. For the first time since his full strength came upon him, he was putting it all forth against a man as strong or stronger than himself. And then he became aware that n.o.body else was fighting. Gavin's grip loosened.

"Let go, Mackay," he said. "Cut it out now."

Then Angus saw Kathleen. She had slipped on some clinging thing of blue and lace, and her hair in its night braids hung to her waist. Her face was pale and her eyes stormy with anger.

"Well," she said, "_gentlemen_!"

She accented the word with bitter irony. Her eyes swept over them disdainfully, resting for a moment on Angus.

"All right, Kit," Gavin said. "You can go back to roost."

"If you're quite through!" she said. "Otherwise I'll stay."

"Oh, we're through," Gavin a.s.sured her.

Without another word Kathleen left the room. Behind her there was utter silence for a moment. Then with one accord the guests moved toward the door. Gavin halted them.

"No," he said, "you can't go till this blizzard blows out. Don't be d.a.m.ned fools just because we've had a row. Mackay will tell you what it's like outside. Now we'll leave you alone, because you probably want it that way." He turned to Angus who stood apart from the rest, and lowered his voice. "You're a good, skook.u.m man, Mackay. I half wish Kathleen hadn't b.u.t.ted in."

"So do I," Angus returned. The big man smiled.

"No hard feelings on my part," he said. "I'd just like to see which of us was the better man. I never hooked up with anybody as husky as you.

You're not like these blighters." His eyes rested on his guests with utter contempt. "You were right in catching that chair. I might have hurt somebody. Thanks. Good night."

Left alone, Angus after telling the others that in his opinion it would be folly to venture out before daylight, established himself in his corner, where Chetwood presently joined him.

"Pleasant evening, what?" he observed. He grinned.

"I didn't know you were back."

"Just got in the other night, and intended to look you up to-morrow."

"Do it, anyway."

"I wanted to ask you if you could do with another man on your ranch?"

"Not till spring."

"Wages secondary object. Primary one a Christian home for an honest but inexperienced young man whose funds are not what they should be."

"Who is he?"

"His full name is Eustace William Fitzroy Chetwood. But he would answer to 'Bill.'"

"You?" Angus exclaimed. "You're joking."

"Not a bit of it. I have the best of reasons for asking. Tell you about them some time. To-night is my last night of the gay life. Thought I might win a little money, but instead of that I lost. I am an applicant for work."

"You're welcome. I can't pay much, but the meals come regularly."

"That's very good of you," Chetwood acknowledged. "I'll move my traps out to-morrow."

CHAPTER XIX

INTRODUCING MRS. FOLEY

That spring, as soon as the frost was out of the ground, Angus did his promised work for Faith Winton, while a couple of carpenters ran up a cottage, stable and outbuilding. With this extra work, Angus was more than busy. The Frenches did nothing to help. They seemed to regard the girl's actions as folly of which the sooner she was cured the better.

"I am getting a companion, an old friend of mine," Faith told Angus one day as the cottage neared completion. "It may be cowardly, but I don't want to live here alone."

"Of course it would be lonesome," he agreed. "It will be nice for you to have a girl friend."

She stared at him for a moment and laughed. "Oh, very nice. We'll move in some time next week."

A week pa.s.sed and another, and Angus, though he had heard that the new ranch was occupied, had had no opportunity to visit it. Then one evening he saddled Chief and rode over.