Mr. Postil's Offer
Connie rushed forward and snatched the child up in her arms. With the
riders bearing down upon her, she dived head foremost, rolling over and
over at the side of the track. The horses thundered past, and were lost
in a cloud of dust.
The crowd, thrilled by Connie's act of bravery, surged forward. In vain
the guards sought to keep the arena clear. Friendly hands seized Connie
and the child, lifting them to their feet.
The little girl was crying piteously, but more from fright than because
she had been hurt. Her only injury was a slight bruise on her arm.
"Are you all right, Baby?" Connie asked.
"You threw me down in the dirt," the little girl said accusingly. "Just
look at my pretty dress! I'm not a baby either!"
"Of course you're not," agreed Connie soothingly. "What is your name?"
Just at that moment a stout gentleman came hurrying up. He caught the
child in his arms, hugging her tightly. Without saying a word he brushed
the child's disheveled hair out of her eyes and mopped the dirt from her
face with his handkerchief.
"I don't believe she's hurt, sir," declared Connie. "Only shaken up a
bit."
The old gentleman seemed too shocked by the accident to make any reply.
Connie started to move away.
"No, wait, please," he requested. "You saved my granddaughter's life. I
must talk with you."
"Anyone would have done the same, sir," Connie responded, smiling. "I
just happened to be close to the fence."
"I saw it all," the old man declared. "You risked your life to save the
child. It was magnificent."
"Oh, hardly that," said Connie, flushing with embarrassment.
"I didn't know Doris had wandered away until I saw her on the track,"
the old gentleman went on. "I was stunned--paralyzed for I thought
surely she would be killed. The child is all I have in the world."
"I quite understand," Connie murmured.
"I haven't told you my name," the man said offering an engraved card. "I
am James Postil."
Connie, after introducing herself, glanced at the card, noticing that it
bore a New York address. She remarked that Mr. Postil was a long way
from home.
"Yes, I am spending my vacation in the Southwest," he explained. "My
granddaughter and I came out here to live at one of these dude ranches
for a few weeks."
"I hope you found a nice place and that you're having an enjoyable
time," Connie said pleasantly.
"It hasn't turned out that way yet. I was looking for a nice, quiet
ranch where Doris could run wild and grow healthy and strong. Perhaps
you've heard of Silverhorn Ranch?"
"Oh, yes," nodded Connie, "only it isn't really a ranch at all. Don't
you find it more on the order of a big tourist hotel?"
"That's it exactly! Something going on from morning to night. I've made
up my mind to move out. But you're not interested in my difficulties.
Tell me about yourself."
"There is really nothing to tell," said Connie evasively.
"You are too modest, I fear," smiled the old gentleman. "I remember you
now. You are the young lady who won the bronco riding contest. Come,
let's go somewhere away from the crowd. I'd like to talk with you."
By this time Connie had gathered that James Postil was a man of
considerable wealth, and she half suspected that he meant to offer her
money for saving his grandchild. Of course she would refuse.
Mr. Postil seemed to sense the girl's attitude, for he led up to the
subject very gradually. First he told her more about himself. The head
of a large manufacturing company in the east, he found himself at
sixty-eight, lonely and alone in the world save for his one grandchild.
"I've done my best to raise her up right," he told Connie, "but Doris
has been too much under the care of a governess. That's why I cut loose
this summer and brought her out here. I thought I'd try to give her a
little personal looking-after. So far the idea hasn't turned out very
well."
"You'll probably find a more satisfactory place to stay than Silverhorn
Ranch, Mr. Postil. I can understand that it wouldn't be suitable for
Doris at all."
"Here I am, talking about myself again," declared Mr. Postil. "I've not
given you an opportunity to tell me a thing about yourself."
Connie had not meant to reveal any of her personal troubles, but she
found the old gentleman a most sympathetic listener. He interposed a
question here and there and before she knew it he had learned the entire
story of her financial difficulties.
"I don't believe you need to worry any more," Mr. Postil said briskly.
"How much is your bank loan?"
"Oh, I didn't mean----"
"I know you didn't, young lady," smiled Mr. Postil, "but it happens that
I owe you a great debt for saving the life of my grandchild. Doris means
more to me than anything in the world. Now I'll be only too happy to
give you enough money----"
"Oh, no," broke in Connie. "I couldn't take a penny."
"Call it a loan then."
Connie was sorely tempted but she shook her head.
"I really think I'll be able to weather the storm unaided," she
insisted. "With the seven hundred and fifty dollars I won today, I'll
fix the ranch up a bit and advertise for summer boarders. Then if the
bank learns I am going ahead in a profitable way, my note may be
extended."
Mr. Postil asked Connie many questions about Rainbow Ranch. With no
conscious attempt to exaggerate she described the wonderful fishing
streams and the lake.
"We have an extra special attraction, too," she added. "The ruins of
ancient cliff dwellings. My father discovered them in the canyon years
ago, and experts say they are in as fine a state of preservation as any
ruins in the Southwest."
"Why, you have everything at your ranch," declared Mr. Postil
enthusiastically. "I've been trying to find just such a place. How about
taking Doris and me as your first paying guests?"
"Why, I'd like to have you," Connie stammered, "only the ranch house
isn't fixed up. The food would be plain and there wouldn't be any
frills."
"That's exactly what I want," Mr. Postil insisted. "I'll tell you what
I'll do. I'll finish out the week at Silverhorn, then Monday morning
I'll come to your place, and I may be able to round up a few other
guests for you. Here's a couple weeks' board and room money in advance."
The old gentleman handed her two bills.
"Why, you've given me a hundred dollars!" Connie protested. "I can't
accept that much."
"Take it, take it," Mr. Postil urged carelessly. "I'm a very cranky old
man and require a lot of service. You'll find it will be worth that much
to keep me."
Connie was quite overcome by her good fortune. She tried to thank Mr.
Postil for his generosity.
"I'm doing myself the service," he declared. "I'll get busy right away
and see if I can't locate those friends of mine. If I have any luck I'll
send you word."
"But you've not even seen the ranch," Connie protested. "You may not
like it at all."
"I have no worry on that score," said Mr. Postil confidently.
After he and Doris had walked away, Connie stood for several minutes
with the money held tightly in her hand. It did not seem possible that
so many wonderful things could have happened in one day. Yet it was
true.
"I can't help but succeed if Mr. Postil brings his rich friends to the
ranch," she thought excitedly. "But I'll need to hire extra household
help and redecorate the bedrooms. Oh, I have a million things I must
do."
Connie wandered about the rodeo ground searching for Alkali or Lefty.
She felt she had to tell someone about her good fortune, but apparently
both cowboys had drifted away from the arena.
Finally she gave up the search, and presenting her check at the rodeo
office, received cash in the amount of seven hundred and fifty dollars.
Connie pinned the bills together and fastened the roll inside her shirt
pocket.
It was after six o'clock by the time she rode Silvertail out of the
grounds. The streets still swarmed with people and Red Gulch would be a
lively place until the small hours of the morning. But Connie was eager
to get back home.
The sky in the west glowed rosy pink and slowly darkened. On either side
of the lonely road the limestone cliffs were a blaze of reflected color.
Connie rode slowly, enjoying the twilight.
As she cantered along she made her plans. With eight hundred and fifty
dollars she could remodel the ranch house, hire another Mexican woman to
help Marie, and still have money left. With even a few paying guests she
soon would have all her debts paid.
Connie whistled a gay little tune. For the first time since she had
returned home from the East, she felt entirely happy.
The sun dropped below the horizon line and the distant mountains seemed
to cast their dark shadow over the earth. A chill wind sprang up,
rustling the ragged branches of the gnarled cedars.
Connie shivered and drew her jacket more closely about her. She could
feel the cold numbing her fingers.
Rainbow Ranch was still many miles away. The narrow road wound and
twisted as it steadily climbed toward Eagle Pass. Just ahead was a short
tunnel bored in the rock. As they approached it, Silvertail quivered and
pricked up his ears.
"What's the matter, old boy?" Connie asked softly.
She thought someone might be approaching from the opposite direction but
she heard no one. It had grown so dark that she could not see far ahead.
Yet for some reason Connie shared Silvertail's uneasiness.
She rode into the tunnel. As the walls closed in about her, she glanced
nervously over her shoulder. It was as if she could feel a presence. Yet
of course there could be no one in the tunnel.
Connie breathed easier as she saw a circle of light ahead. The tunnel
had not been longer than fifty feet yet it had seemed six times that
length.
Connie relaxed in the saddle, and just at that moment, as she emerged
from the tunnel, she heard a horse nicker from the bushes at the side of
the road.
Before she could turn her head to look, a man rode out in front of her,
deliberately blocking the way. A blue bandana handkerchief had been
pulled high over his mouth, and a revolver dangled carelessly from his
hand.
"Pass over the money," he said in a low, grim voice. "And don't try any
tricks!"