INASMUCH
While the Clayton party were journeying from Clifton, John Harding was
on guard, vigilant, watchful. In the Post Office that morning, he
chanced to hear some one repeat a boast Lord Kelwin had made in regard
to Carla Earle, whom he had heretofore treated with patronizing
condescension.
John Harding returned to Clayton Ranch, and invented excuses to be
about the house, saying, as he went off to do some chores, that if
they needed him, just to call him, adding that he'd be within hearing.
Carla and Edith joked a little about his solicitude, and went about
their daily tasks, planning surprises for the hungry company, on their
return that night. Carla seemed happier this day than usual, and began
to make a soft music in her throat like the warbling of a bird. She
had been alone in the room for some time, when she heard a step. She
stopped warbling when she recognized the voice of Lord Kelwin, whom
she instinctively feared.
He had entered the house unannounced, and now walked into the dining
room.
"Aha, my beauty!" he said, stepping toward her. "Aha, my bird! Caught
at last!"
She saw that he was intoxicated.
"So you are alone at last, bird."
He flung himself between her and the door. Something in his face
filled her with disgust and alarm. He kept coming towards her,
uttering words of insolent familiarity, and she kept backing away.
Finally he lunged forward, grasped her by the arm, and tried to hold
her. Evidently, he had not counted on opposition from her; and when he
found his will thwarted, all the beast in him seemed roused. He struck
her in the mouth, calling her vile names as he did so. In an instant,
her shrieks of terror went ringing through the house. They brought
Edith, in sudden alarm, and John Harding. The latter, recognizing the
situation at a glance, sprang forward, and clutched the Irishman by
the throat.
"Let her go," he said, "you blankety blanked coward. Let her go, I
say!" As he spoke, he gripped Kelwin's throat tightly, shaking him as
if he were a rat. Then he grew dangerously white.
The visitor, enraged at this unexpected interference, grew violent. He
turned upon Jack Harding, and drew his gun; but Jack, sober and alert,
knocked the gun from his hand; and, closing with him, dealt terrific
blows in his face. All the brute in the drunken man roused. The sober
man had the advantage. The struggle lasted but a few moments, though
it seemed an eternity to the frightened girls. Finally, Jack Harding
placed his knees on Kelwin's chest and arms, his hand on his throat,
choking him until he gasped for mercy. Then the cowboy let him rise.
As soon as he was free, he began to curse Carla Earle. Jack Harding
promptly knocked him down. Partly sobered, the man rose, and staggered
from the room.
Carla stood trembling, her face white with fear.
Harding saw her distress, and said with unusual gentleness:
"Don't ye care, Miss Carla. 'Tain't so, anyway. He lied. He'll pay for
it."
"Oh, don't meddle with him, I beg you," she said with sudden alarm.
"He might shoot you."
"Shoot? Let him. But he can't insult any decent woman, while I'm near
to protect her. Mark that."
Carla turned to resume her duties, but fell in a limp heap on the
floor. Then Edith and Jack Harding worked to bring her to. At last her
eyes opened. She looked around, dazed, bewildered. When she realized
what had happened, she asked:
"Has that dreadful man gone?"
On being assured that he was at a safe distance, she tried to rise,
but her knees gave way, and she sank to the floor again.
So Jack and Edith prepared the evening meal, and waited. At last they
heard the sound of the returning carriage, and, a few moments later,
welcomed the party at the gate.
When John Clayton heard what had happened, he seemed dumfounded.
"How dared he? How dared he?" he repeated, indignantly.
But Kenneth's mouth set hard, and it did not augur well for Lord
Kelwin.
For one thing, all were thankful during the ensuing weeks,--the Irish
nobleman no longer came to Clayton Ranch, socially, or otherwise. He
managed to keep himself in the background, and was seldom heard of
save as he figured in some drunken brawl. But Jack Harding, who
understood him best of all, and who knew the venom of his tongue,
hounded him day by day. And there grew up in Lord Kelwin's mind a
deepening fear and hate of Jack Harding.