Busy days followed for Judith Sanford and for every man remaining upon
Blue Lake ranch. A score of men, including the milkers, Johnson, the
irrigation foreman and his crew of laborers, had quit work, going over
openly to Bayne Trevors at the Western Lumber camp. He had work there
for every man of them, and Judith was not the only one upon the ranch
who came to wonder how much money Trevors--or the lumber company--was
prepared to spend in fighting her. From the first day she found the
outfit short-handed.
Almost her first answer to Trevors's _coup_ was to telegraph San
Francisco for a Firth milking-machine, together with an expert sent out
by the Firth Company to install and superintend its working for the
first few days. At the same time she hired from one of the Sacramento
dairies a man who was to be foreman of her own dairy industry, a
capable fellow with an intimate practical knowledge of automatic
milkers. He, with a couple of strippers paid overtime wages managed
until the dairy crew could be builded up again. Her new foreman from
the first took the greater part of this burden off her shoulders.
Mrs. Simpson, the matron from Rocky Bend, arrived, true to her promise
and, motherly soul that she was, took a keen interest in Judith's
comforts and in caring for the big house, of which she immediately
waxed proud with an air of semiproprietorship. José, from the first,
bestowed upon the cheerful, bustling woman a black hatred born of his
thoroughgoing Latin jealousy. From this or that corner, appearing
unexpectedly, glaring darkly at her in a manner which ruffled her
placidity and suggested to her lively imagination terrible visions of
knives in one's back, he brought an actual thrill into Mrs. Simpson's
long days of routine.
Busy days also for Bud Lee, who had already begun the education of a
string of colts. Busy days for Doc Tripp who, unhampered, trusted,
aided at every turn by his employer, was from dawn until dark among the
ranch live stock, all but feeling pulse and taking temperature of
horses, cows, colts, calves, hogs, and mules. He stopped the calf
sickness; effected cures in every case excepting one. And the rest of
the stock he finally gave a clean bill of health.
Busy days for Carson. Painstakingly he estimated, to the head, the
number of cattle the pastures should be carrying, counting from long
experience upon the hard months to come from August until December;
estimating values; appearing at the week's end to suggest the purchase
of a herd of calves from the John Peters Dairy Company, to be had now
at a very attractive figure. And suggesting, almost insistently, upon
buying a certain Shorthorn bull worth twice the twelve hundred dollars
asked for him. Busy days for the foremen who had held over from the
management of Trevors or who had been taken on since. The first crop
of alfalfa, shot through with foxtails, must be cut without delay and
fed into the silos before the beards of the interloping growth could
harden. Busy days for the short-handed milking crew; busy days of
installing the new milking-machines.
Judith and Doc Tripp had sought to find some trace of the man who,
Judith insisted, had listened at the door in the hall. They had found
nothing. So that episode, as well as Trevors himself, was shoved aside
in their minds, in the stress of activity demanding attention
everywhere.
With Saturday came Pollock Hampton and his guests. Trevors had
misnamed him a fool, sweepingly mistaking youth, business inexperience
and a careless way, for lack of brains. Just a breezy young fellow,
likable, gay-hearted, keen for the joy of life, scarcely more than a
boy after all. One of those rare beings whose attitude toward his
fellow mortals was one of generous faith, who sought to see the best in
people, who had an outspoken admiration for efficiency in any form. He
came to the ranch prepared to like everything and everybody.
"Look here!" he exclaimed to Judith, before she had had time for more
than a sweeping appraisal of his friends. "Why didn't you tell me you
were up to a thing like this? Great Scott, Judith, you don't know what
you are tackling, do you? It's ripping of you; you're a sheer wonder
to tie into it; you've got no end of nerve. But running a ranch like
this--why, it's a big proposition for a thunderingly big man to swing."
"Is it?" smiled Judith.
Beyond that, the only answer he got from this brief conference was the
timely suggestion that his chief concern for the immediate present lay
in making his guests comfortable.
Accompanying young Hampton were "Major" Langworthy, a little short,
fat, bald gentleman, who, so far as the knowledge of his club members
went, had never been connected with any part of the army or navy,
unless one counted his congenial brigades of cocktail drinkers; Mrs.
Langworthy, his supercilious, uninteresting wife; Marcia, his languidly
graceful daughter, in whom Hampton gave certain signs of being
considerably interested; Marshal Rogers, the Oakland lawyer, and Frank
Farris, the artist. Also Marcia's maid and Hampton's Japanese valet,
Fujioki. In due course of time this representative of the Flowery
Kingdom grew to be great friends with José, the two forthwith suspected
by Mrs. Simpson of all sorts of dark plots and of a racial sympathy
which must be watched lest it produce "something terrible."
Pollock Hampton, holding a third of the shares of the big venture, with
his legitimate claim upon a third of the income, was of course a factor
which must be taken into account. Judith, knowing little of him,
sought to know more, watched him when he was talking, got his views
upon many matters that came up haphazard, and found that, while she
liked him, she would have been more than glad if he had not come to
still further complicate matters for her. For it was open and shut
that his interest and enthusiasm would demand a voice. She asked
frankly how long he planned to stay?
"I'm here for good," he answered cheerfully. His explanation followed
with a grin, quite as though he were telling her of some rare good
news: "Money's all gone, creditors are nuisances, there's no prospect
with you here of having you send me anything. What is left for me but
to stay?"
Judith suggested a monthly allowance. Hampton laughed good-humoredly.
"Pay me to keep me out of the way? There's nothing stirring, Judith.
Absolutely. I'm here to give a hand."
Judith had hopes, even yet, that a couple or weeks or a month at the
most, of life as it runs forty miles from a railroad would dampen and
finally extinguish his bright enthusiasm. But swiftly those hopes
died. This was his first visit to the mountains, and for a man sick of
the city's social round, every inch of the ranch, river and cliffs and
rolling hills had its compelling interest. Perhaps the thing which
Judith overlooked was the blood of his fathers. For before Pollock
Hampton, Sr., had made his money, he and his wife had been, like Luke
Sanford, pioneers. Now something in the mountains here called vaguely
to the soul of young Hampton and made him restless and stirred his
heart. He looked up at the sheer and mighty fall of rock behind the
ranchhouse and his face glowed; he leaned over the rail of a rustic
bridge and forgot Marcia, who was with him, as he watched the beauty of
the foam-flecked water. As he stood stock-still, looking on while Bud
Lee rode a bucking bronco, his eyes were bright and eager.
"Glory to be!" he exclaimed to the major, who had been coaxed away from
the buffet for a brief half-hour. "Watch that man ride! While I've
been learning to dance and play the piano these men have been doing
real things."
"Let's go have something," said the major hurriedly. For it did not
fit in with his and Mrs. Langworthy's plans to have Hampton risk his
neck at such pastimes--at least not yet.
It soon became obvious that long ago Hampton had given freely of his
admiration to Bayne Trevors. For Trevors had taken the time, his own
purpose in mind, to look in upon Hampton some months ago in San
Francisco. Further, he had created the impression which he sought to
make. An impression, by the way, not entirely erroneous.
"A great man!" cried Hampton warmly. "The only man I know big enough
to swing a job like this."
To himself he said that the chief good he could do at the outset was to
work to get Trevors back. With this in his mind and having had no full
account of Judith's manner of ejecting the general manager, he went
straight to her.
"Trevors is a friend of mine," he said lightly. "I'm going to ask him
over to meet my guests. No objection, is there?"
She looked at him keenly.
"Do as you please," was her cool answer. "I imagine he won't care to
come."
Launched upon his first business venture, Hampton went to the
telephone. That evening at table he surprised Judith not a little when
he said casually that Trevors had said he'd run over in a day or so, as
soon as he could find time.
"What's that?" he asked, breaking off.
For certainly Judith had started to speak. But now she merely shrugged
her shoulders and sat in silent thoughtfulness.
Mrs. Langworthy had no liking to bestow upon such as Judith. The girl,
she confided every night to the major, was unladylike, unwomanly,
_outré_, horsy, unthinkable, an insult to any woman into whose presence
she came. The major agreed monosyllabically or with silent nods for
the sake of peace. Personally he was rather inclined to fancy Judith's
uncorseted figure, to admire her red-blooded beauty, and he always
touched up the ends of his mustaches in her presence.
Judith, having early taken Mrs. Langworthy's measure, found an impish
joy in murdering the proprieties for her especial benefit. She said
"Damn" upon occasions when Mrs. Langworthy was there to hear; she rode
her horse at a gallop into the yard and right up to the veranda when
Mrs. Langworthy was there to see, swinging down as her mount jerked to
standstill, as "ladylike" about it all as a wild Comanche; at table she
talked of prize boars and sick calves and other kindred vulgar matters.
But the major admired her; Marcia, as days went by, proved to be a
sweet-tempered, somewhat timid, but highly good-natured, affectionate
creature generously offering her good-will; and Rogers, the lawyer, and
Farris, the artist, both of the sophisticated, self-sufficient type,
were little behind the major in interest.
During the last week of May, a rumor came to Judith's ears of which, at
first, she thought little. Carson, coming to her upon a bit of ranch
business, remarked dryly before taking his departure, that a report had
got around among his men--Poker Face had mentioned it to him--that Blue
Lake ranch was on its last legs; that it was even to be doubted, if the
men ever saw another pay-day before the whole affair went into a
receiver's hands. Judith laughed at him and told him not to worry.
"Me?" said Carson. "I'm not the worrying kind. But idees like that
ain't good to have floating around. A man won't do more'n half work
when he's wondering all the time if he's going to get his mazuma for
it."
But, when again the rumor came, this time telephoned up to her from the
Lower End by Doc Tripp, she frowned and wondered. And she was careful,
upon the thirtieth of May, to send Charlie Miller, the storekeeper,
into Rocky Bend for the monthly pay-roll money. She gave him her check
for one thousand dollars which, with what was in Charlie's safe at the
store and in her own here, would more than pay the monthly wages.
Charlie left for Rocky Bend in the afternoon, spending the night in
town to get the customary morning start for the ranch. The men were to
be paid at six o'clock.
Upon this same day Pollock Hampton told Judith that Bayne Trevors was
coming to the ranch to have dinner, spend the night and the following
day. Judith made no reply beyond favoring him with a quick look of
question. She had not believed that the man would come. What next?
The last day of May came, and true to his premise, Trevors was a guest
at the house from which, so short a time ago, he had been evicted. He
dined there that night, cool and self-confident, casually polite to
Judith, civil and courteous to the other guests, especially to Major
and Mrs. Langworthy and Marcia, leading conversations unobtrusively,
making himself liked. He watched a game of billiards, but refused to
play, saying carelessly that he had a stiff shoulder. He and Hampton
strolled out into the starlight and for some two or three hours walked
up and down, talking quietly.
"A gentleman!" cried Mrs. Langworthy with spirit. "It just shows that
a person can do out-doors work and not sink back into the barbarian!"
The morning after Trevors's arrival, Judith was up betimes and
breakfasted alone. Lunching early, noon found her in the office
expecting Charlie Miller. She was at work on the pay-roll book when
her telephone rang. It was Doc Tripp and there was suppressed
excitement in his voice.
"Bad news, Judy," he began. "It sure looks as though you were getting
your share."
"What is it, Doc?" she broke in sharply. "Tell me!"
"It's Charlie Miller. Hurt. No, not bad. Thrown off his horse, back
in Squaw Creek cañon. And--robbed."
Quickly he told all that had happened. Miller, hastening back with the
wage money, was riding through the narrow gorge when a man had sprung
out suddenly in front of him. Miller's horse, shying, swerving
unexpectedly, had thrown him. Before he could get to his feet the bag
of gold under his coat had been torn off, his revolver wrenched away
and the highwayman, his face masked with a red bandana handkerchief,
had run into the thick timber.
"Charlie just walked in, reeling like a drunken man," Tripp concluded.
"His fall and a rap over the head with a gun-butt have made him pretty
sick. I am sending out a posse of men from this end to try and get the
stick-up man. You'd better do the same up there."
For a moment Judith sat staring at the telephone dully. Robbed of a
thousand dollars, and in broad daylight! A thing like this had not
occurred on the Blue Lake for a dozen years.
"Bayne Trevors!" she gasped. For, suddenly, she thought that she
understood the significance of the rumor which had twice in a week come
to her. Perhaps, as Tripp himself had said, she was getting nerves.
Trevors himself was on the ranch right now. . . . Her two fists
clinched. Yes, Trevors was here with triple purpose: To curry favor
with Hampton against a possible need of it, to establish an alibi for
himself, to witness Judith's discomfiture, when at six o'clock she must
turn the men away with an excuse.