"Well, if you'll down it quick and come on."
With feelings that had hovered between gratification at Gordon's
sobriety and regret for his own, Sliver drank, bade the girl "Adios,"
and mounted again. Standing in the doorway, her glance followed them,
enwrapping Gordon's upright figure with its dark caress. Just as they
crossed the stream at the foot of the path, her face lit with sudden
remembrance. Turning at her call they saw her coming at a breathless
run.
"Kain't bear the parting," Sliver interpreted the action.
But his grin faded as he listened to her voluble talk. "She says that
four strange Mexicans stayed here last night. They didn't belong to this
country, an' they questioned her closely about the different haciendas.
They were 'specially curious about our horses. Us being gringos an' her
Mex, they naturally concluded she'd be ag'in us, and they would have
been right but for the fancy she's taken to you. So they opened right
up; asked all about the mountain pastures an' whether we kep' a close
guard. She says they was heading for there. While I go after 'em, you
ride like the mill tails o' hell an' bring out Bull an' Jake."
That crude but strong expression accurately described Gordon's progress
homeward. While his beast scrambled like a cat up one side of the
ravine, slid like a four-footed avalanche down the other, and streaked
like a shooting star up and down the long earth rolls, he learned more
of horsemanship than during all his previous years. Lee, who saw him
coming from the upper gallery above the _patio_, nodded her approval.
Such haste, of course, had but one interpretation--raiders; and by the
time Gordon dashed into the compound she was already mounted and a fresh
beast waiting for him.
"They are up in the Cañon del Norte," she answered his inquiry for Bull
and Jake. "Come on!"
"You are surely not thinking of--"
Before he could finish, however, she shot under the gate arch; was off
at a speed that kept him galloping his hardest to keep her in sight. Not
until she slowed down on the rough trail that led into the cañon, within
sight of Bull and Jake, who had just roped a foal for branding, did he
catch her. But it was just as well, for that which he would have said
came with more authority from the lips of Bull.
"All right, Missy. There's on'y four, so you don't need to be skeered.
You kin go right back home with Gordon an' leave us to take keer of
them."
"Indeed I won't!" she exclaimed, hotly. "I'm going, too! I am! I am!"
She cut off his remonstrance. "I am! I am! _I am!_"
It was the first time their wills had clashed. Bull glanced at Jake, who
shook his head--not that he required support or intended to waste time
in fruitless argument. "You mean that?" His glance, grave with stern
disapproval, came back to Lee.
It hurt her. But though her lips quivered, she answered, doggedly: "I
do! I _won't_ go back."
"Very well. We've no time to waste. Ride on while I cut this foal
loose." But as she obeyed, with one flick of the wrist he roped her
above the elbows from behind. Then, in spite of angry protests that
ended in tears, he cinched her little feet from stirrup to stirrup.
"Now take her home." Handing the lead rope to Gordon, he leaped into the
saddle and galloped after Jake.
Till they disappeared, Lee looked after, wavering between anger and
tears. Tears won. Bowing her fair head, she wept unreservedly for fully
a minute. Realizing then that she was gaining nothing but swollen eyes
and a red nose, she stopped crying and turned to Gordon with a little
laugh.
"Isn't this ridiculous? Please untie me."
But now she found herself gazing into the sullen face of a young man
who, through her, had been cut out of a real fight. He shook his head.
"You _won't_?"
"No."
"Why?"
"You'd go after them."
They looked at each other. Her eyes were now gleaming brightly above two
red spots; but he met their gaze with stubborn obstinacy.
"You mean to say that you are going to take me home tied up like a veal
calf?"
He nodded.
Biting her lips, she looked at him again. "Do you realize, sir, that you
never set eyes on me till a week ago?"
"Sure!"
"Also that you are my hired man?"
He nodded again.
"Very well, you're fired! Now untie this rope, then get off my land!"
But even this was turned against her. "I don't have to. I'm no longer
your servant. I'll get off your land, yes--after I've delivered you at
your home."
If looks could kill, to use that hackneyed but still expressive term, he
would have died there and then. But they don't, and, masking his own
disappointment with a hypocritically cheerful whistle, he turned his
beast and rode down the cañon, towing her behind.
It was dreadfully humiliating, and, being a girl, she cried some
more--this time for sheer anger. But soon her tears dried and she fell
into deep musing. Soon a small smile restored its softness to her mouth.
Her voice, seductively pleasant, mingled with the tramp of hoofs. "Won't
you _please_ untie me? The rope is hurting my arms."
He stopped, pulled her horse up alongside, and as he began to fumble
with the ropes she turned her head so that he could not see her smile.
It was transmuted into a flash of fury when, finding the rope a little
loose, he drew it tighter.
"I thought you were a gentleman!" she shot it viciously at his back as
he rode on. "Gentlemen don't tie up ladies!"
"Ladies don't fire men for obeying orders. You needn't think I'm
enjoying this. Just because you shoved in where you were not wanted, I
have to go back."
She did not like that, either. What girl would? Once more she bit her
lip, yet, for all her anger, a touch of respect mingled with her
resentment. Concerned principally with his own disappointment, he rode
on without looking back and so missed the little persistent wriggles by
which she gradually freed one hand. Soon she was able, by leaning
forward, to reach and draw her saddle _machete_. Indeed, she worked with
such caution that he got his first warning when, with one slash, she cut
the rope between them. By the time he had swung his beast around she was
going like the wind back up the cañon.
Her mocking laughter came floating back.