THE WHITE WASTE
Warden and Singleton had been in Willets on the day the storm broke.
They had ridden into town early, and when they saw the low-flying clouds
sweeping down from the north Singleton grinned maliciously, with a
significance that Warden could not mistake.
"Warden, it's goin' to storm," he said.
Warden glanced at the other, understandingly.
"Looks a whole lot like it, Singleton. And we can be more comfortable at
the Two Diamond than in town."
"Right," grinned Singleton. "An' we'd better hit the breeze right now,
for she's comin' fast."
As they mounted their horses in front of the building that contained
Warden's office, the latter looked sharply at Singleton.
"Givens and Link ought to be busy by now. You say your men reported that
the Circle L men stocked Number One line camp yesterday?"
"She's stocked!" laughed Singleton; "Tulerosa an' Denver brought word.
An' the herd was on the big level north of the camp. They'll head
straight for that break because they'll hit it before they hit the
basin. An' Givens an' Link will send 'em through, to hell--an' then
some. An' them damn fools, Davies an' Harris, is layin' in the back
room of the Wolf, paralyzed by that forty-rod that Big Jim Lafflin has
been slippin' over the bar to 'em. They won't know they're alive until
this time tomorrow, an' then they'll be so scared that they'll just keep
right on hittin' the forty-rod for fair! I reckon we've got Lawler
goin', now, the damn maverick!"
Warden and Singleton rode fast, but the storm caught them. Midway on the
ten-mile stretch of plain between Willets and the Two Diamond they
turned their backs to the white smother and sent their horses racing
headlong away from the storm.
"She's a humdinger!" yelled Singleton to Warden as the wind shrieked and
howled about them. "If Givens an' Link git them cattle started they'll
drift clear into Mexico. Three thousand! I reckon that'll set the damn
fool back some!"
The two men had only five miles to ride when the storm struck, and
Singleton was experienced. And yet when they rode into the Two Diamond
stable and dismounted, both men were breathless and tired; their legs
and arms stiff with cold and their faces raw and blue from the bitter
wind that had swirled around them.
"Another five miles of that an' we wouldn't be as active as we are now!"
said Singleton, grimly. "She's got a worse bite than any wind I ever
seen!"
Warden's hands were so cold he could not remove the saddle from his
horse. A Two Diamond man performed that service for him, and for
Singleton. While Warden and Singleton were stamping their feet in an
effort to restore circulation, the Two Diamond man called to them from
the far end of the stable:
"You run into Miss Della?"
Warden wheeled toward the man. "What do you mean, Lefty? What about Miss
Della? Isn't she at the ranchhouse?"
"She rode away about three hours ago--on that big roan of hers. Went to
town, most likely. She didn't say. I reckoned that if she _had_ gone to
town, you'd have run into her."
Warden ran stiffly to the ranchhouse, where he came upon Aunt Hannah in
the kitchen.
"Where's Della?" he demanded, excitedly.
The woman looked at Warden in mild surprise.
"Why, didn't she come with you, Mr. Warden? She told me she intended
to." And then her face blanched at the wild excitement Warden betrayed.
"She isn't with you--you didn't meet her? Oh, she'll be frozen to death
in this terrible storm!"
"Damn you!" cursed Warden, gripping the woman's arm until she cried out
in pain; "didn't I tell you not to let her go alone--anywhere?"
He released the woman and plunged out, running blindly back to the
stable. He collided with Singleton at the stable door. His face was
ghastly, his eyes bulging.
"Della's gone, Singleton!" he gasped. "She went to town. For God's sake,
get those saddles on again! We've got to go back!"
"Warden, it can't be done," said Singleton in a low voice; "you'd freeze
to death before you went a mile. There ain't any man can face that
storm an' live. Man," he added when Warden made a violent gesture of
impatience; "use your reason. We've just come five miles, with the wind
at our backs--an' we're half froze. Lefty just told me that Miss Della
left about three hours ago. If that's the case she's likely in town,
snug an' warm, somewheres. We'd ought to have nosed around a little
before we left, but we didn't, an' mebbe she rode right by your place,
thinkin' to stop in on the way back. You left early, you know. Anyway,
Warden, if she's in town she'll stay there till the storm is over--snug
an' warm. And if she didn't go to town there wouldn't be no use lookin'
for her. Why, man, look out there! you can't see your hand before you!"
Warden raged insanely, stalking back and forth through the stable; and
finally to the ranchhouse again, where he bitterly arraigned Aunt
Hannah. But in the end he stayed in the ranchhouse, close beside a
window, out of which he watched until the night came to shut off his
view of the great, white world.
Over at the Circle L ranchhouse were other anxious watchers--men whose
steady eyes held a haunting gleam of worry, and whose rugged faces grew
grim and long as the days passed and the storm did not abate. From their
bunkhouse they watched, day and night, for the end; their horses ready,
heavy clothing at hand for a plunge into the white waste that stretched
on all sides of them. Had they known which way Lawler had gone when he
left the Circle L they would have searched for him despite the frigid
danger that gripped the world. But Lawler had gone, leaving no word;
and there was nothing the men could do.
Through a window in the Circle L ranchhouse anxious eyes peered
also--those of a gray-haired woman with a kindly, gentle face into
which, as the long days passed, came lines that had not been there
before. And yet in the watching eyes was a gleam of hope--of calm
confidence in the big son who was somewhere in the white waste--a
conviction that he was safe, that he would survive and return to her.