Wrangling Dudes
"That is a very dangerous statement to make unless you have proof,"
Connie replied gravely.
"Jim Barrows' bank roll is proof enough for me," the foreman answered
gruffly. "He knew you were carrying the prize money home with you,
didn't he?"
"Yes," admitted Connie reluctantly.
"And where was he last night? No one saw him in town. He came back to
the ranch about four o'clock this morning. His horse was just about done
up."
"The idea sounds ridiculous to me," Connie said scoffingly. "I think
you're inclined to be entirely too suspicious, Mr. Blakeman."
"All right," retorted the foreman with a shrug. "I knew you wouldn't
believe me. But don't say later that I didn't warn you."
After Blakeman had walked away, Connie stood for a long while gazing off
toward the distant mountains. She knew perfectly well that the foreman
bore Jim Barrows a grudge and would enjoy seeing him involved in
trouble. For that reason she largely discounted his words.
Yet the accusation he had made served to arouse a certain distrust in
her mind. Little things which had seemed insignificant before now took
on greater importance.
It was true, as Blakeman had said, that Jim Barrows knew she intended to
carry the rodeo prize money on her person. His sudden acquisition of a
bank roll did seem rather strange. She was almost sure the man had been
without funds when he first came to Rainbow Ranch.
As Connie mulled the matter over in her mind, she saw Jim Barrows emerge
from the bunk house and walk toward the barn. She was tempted to summon
him, but could not quite bring herself to do it.
"The idea is ridiculous!" she told herself again. "I'll not think any
more about it."
But Connie found that it was not easy to dismiss the matter from her
mind. She caught herself studying the cowboy and pondering Forest
Blakeman's words.
Late afternoon brought a message from Mr. Postil in the form of a
telegram sent out from Red Gulch.
"Expect three more guests Monday," it read. "W. P. Grimes, son Cecil,
and daughter Helena, arriving with me."
Connie scarcely knew whether to feel elated or dismayed. But at least
the message served to shake her from the lethargy into which she had
fallen.
She promptly set Marie to work cleaning and preparing the guest
chambers. The rooms were pleasant enough but they were barren. There
were so many things needed--curtains, rugs and linen.
"I'm going to town now to buy supplies," Connie told the servant. "I'll
just have to get credit, that's all. And I'll try to find another woman
to help you."
At the dry goods store in Red Gulch, the girl made her selections. As
the owner wrapped up the package, he remarked casually:
"Well, so you're going into the dude business?"
"Only in a very small way."
"Reckon the fever's struck everyone around here," the storekeeper went
on. "Hear your neighbor's going to try it too."
"My neighbor?"
"Sure, Pop Bradshaw. He's fixing up the ranch and planning on quite a
number of city folks spending the summer there. They say he's going to
build a swimming pool."
"Things like that cost money," Connie said gravely. "I didn't know Pop
had it to spend."
"Oh, he's just the front so they say. I hear that the banker is behind
the deal."
The news filled Connie with deep resentment. It seemed unjust to her
that the bank, while refusing to grant an extension to her loan, would
risk a large amount in trying to develop Pop Bradshaw's run-down ranch.
She was offended, too, because Enid had told her nothing about the
proposed plan.
"Sometimes I feel as if I haven't a true friend in this community,"
Connie thought bitterly. "As for Mr. Haynes, I believe he deliberately
planned to get my ranch. And the worst is that he'll undoubtedly
succeed!"
Back at Rainbow Ranch the girl called Lefty and Jim Barrows to tell them
about their new duties.
"In the morning you must be on hand to greet the guests when they
arrive," she declared. "I'll appoint you two to keep them happy and
satisfied. And now we may as well take a ride over your route."
"Route?" demanded Lefty. "Are we supposed to run a milk wagon too?"
"It's this way," explained Connie. "The guests probably will wish to
ride. Either you or Jim must escort them, and I'd like to have you give
an interesting little talk about the different places of interest."
"Jim here is the one to do that," Lefty insisted. "He's the handsome boy
and he has style. He could give the ladies a lot of good poses a-settin'
on his steed and a-pointin' off dreamy-like into space."
"You'll make a good stage cowboy yourself when you get used to the
idea," Connie laughed. "Come on, let's ride up to the lake."
The three riders passed along a narrow trail which led through a dense
wood of cedar trees. The path soon became steep and narrow, causing the
horses to labor as they climbed single file toward the summit. Upon
reaching the top of the hill, Connie dismounted, and throwing the reins
to the ground, said to her companions:
"This is Lover's Leap."
"It's what?" demanded Lefty incredulously.
"It used to be Conner's Lake but from now on we're calling it Lover's
Leap," Connie chuckled. "Didn't you ever hear the story about how a
beautiful Indian princess jumped off here and lost her life when her
beloved warrior married another squaw?"
A grin spread over Lefty's face.
"Oh, sure, I get the idea," he said. "Atmosphere."
"The lake doesn't really need any build-up," Connie declared. "Our
guests will not find a more beautiful spot anywhere in New Mexico."
As she spoke, Connie moved nearer the edge of the cliff. The opposite
side of the hill top sheered off into a perpendicular wall of rock
nearly sixty feet high. At the base of the declivity was a small pool of
deep blue water. Beyond, the hill sloped gently away into the wooded
valley.
"I'd be careful, Miss," warned Jim Barrows uneasily. "It must be seventy
feet down to that lake."
"Not quite so far," replied Connie, moving back from the cliff. "But
it's a long drop."
After viewing the scene for a few minutes the three riders mounted again
and rode down to a fork in the trail.
"This path leads to the cliff dwellings," Connie explained for Jim
Barrow's benefit. "There are two trails, but for an inexperienced rider
this one is best."
"Alkali was telling me about those cliff ruins," Jim Barrows remarked.
"Your father discovered them years ago, didn't he?"
"Yes, and they're in an almost perfect state of preservation. Dad had
some excavation done and cut away brush. If you've never been over we
might go now. I could spend hours there."
"I've seen Blakeman over this way a lot," Barrows commented as they
started down the trail. "I reckon he's interested in such things."
"Not that I ever heard," laughed Connie. "Blakeman's hobbies aren't so
very cultural, I fear."
"He was probably over this way lookin' for a stray cow," Lefty
contributed.
The trail wound down into the valley and then ascended at a steep angle.
A little farther on, Connie halted her horse so that Jim Barrows might
view the cliff dwellings from this particular point.
"Of course you know the cliff people were widely distributed throughout
the Southwest in prehistoric times," she remarked. "The most noted of
their ruins are at Mesa Verde, the national park, but I think ours are
just as interesting if they're not so large."
"What was the idea of building their homes up under the lip of the
cliff?" the cowboy asked.
"Oh, that was for protection against their enemies," Connie explained.
"Then too, it gave them shelter from the cold. As we go farther you'll
find that the cliff dwellers used many devices to guard the entrances of
their homes."
"It takes an acrobat to get to the place," Lefty added. "On the other
trail you have to go through a narrow tunnel."
"This route is much easier," Connie said, "but we'll do a little fancy
climbing."
She urged her horse on again and for a time they rode single file,
circling the cliffs as they ascended higher. Presently, tying their
steeds to a tree, they continued afoot.
By means of a knotted rope, Connie swung herself down to the lower level
of the cliff.
"The old cliff dwellers didn't need ladders to get up and down as we
do," she told Barrows, pointing out toe holds which had been chipped in
the rock. "They climbed like flies."
The three companions now stood on a shelf of rock and earth. Back
beneath the lip of the cliff were visible the geometrical ruins of
square granaries, round towers and oblong rooms cut with tiny windows
and doors. Connie told Barrows that seven different families once had
occupied the site.
"How do you know?" he inquired curiously.
"Why, by the number of kivas," she declared. "Here, I'll show you what I
mean."
She pointed out a deep, circular hole in the earth which had been roofed
over. It was large enough to have held perhaps twenty or thirty people.
"A kiva such as this was used for ceremonial purposes only," she
explained, "but each little tribe or family had its own. There is a
great deal of lore connected with them but I'll not bore you with that.
Would you like to go down into it?"
"How would I get out again?" he inquired.
"Oh, one of the other kivas has a ladder. Dad put it in years ago."
"Let's take a look at it then," Barrows agreed.
Connie crossed over to another kiva which had been hidden from view by a
high wall.
"Why, where is the ladder?" she asked in surprise.
"Looks like someone has swiped it," Lefty declared peering down into the
dark opening. "I'll have to make another before our dude season gets in
full swing."
"We could let you down on a rope if you'd like to see the inside,"
Connie offered. "But there's nothing down there."
"I'll not bother this time," the man returned. "It's getting late
anyway."
"Yes," agreed Connie, quickly, "we really should be getting back to the
ranch."
They retraced their way, finding themselves winded by the time they
reached the horses.
"It's funny about that ladder," Lefty muttered as they started down the
trail. "I'd like to know who swiped it."
Presently they swung back into the path leading from Lover's Leap and
Connie pointed out a site which would be excellent for picnics.
"You've really given a lot of thought to this dude ranch business,
haven't you?" Jim Barrows asked soberly.
"Yes," Connie acknowledged; "it seems to me we have wonderful
attractions here. A dude ranch has been one of my dreams. A silly one,
I'm afraid."
To hide her emotion, she quickly rode on down the trail. Presently she
reined in to indicate a large cliff across the ravine. At this hour of
sunset it was a shimmering wall of color.
"Echo Cliff," she said softly. "Be sure to point it out to our dudes."
"Say, you sure have picked up a lot of fancy names," Lefty complained
good naturedly.
"They are the names I gave these places when I was a child. I was a
great one to pretend, you know."
"Will the rock really echo?" asked Jim.
"Listen!" commanded Connie.
Cupping her hands to her mouth she gave a long, clear cry which came
back not once but several times.
"Say, that's a real echo!" Lefty exclaimed. "In all the years I been
workin' here I never knew you could get an echo like that."
"Maybe I'll be able to teach you a few things about this ranch," Connie
laughed. "I know and love every rock and stone here."
"If you lose the place," said Lefty, "it will be a rotten shame."
No sooner were the words spoken than he regretted them. Connie's smile
faded and a tired look came over her face.
"Yes," she replied.
And then, pulling her jacket more closely about her throat, she added:
"It's getting chilly. Let's be going home."