Pollock Hampton, Foreman-at-Large, came and went on the ranch, carrying
orders, taking always a keen interest in whatever work fell to hand, an
interest of a fresh kind, in that it was born of a growing
understanding. The men grew to like him; Bud Lee tactfully sought to
acquaint him with many ranch matters which would prove of value to him.
Carson, however, grown nervous over the new method in stock-raising
still in its experimental stage, was given to take any suggestion from
Hampton in the light of a personal affront.
"Damn him," he growled deep in his throat when Hampton had ridden out
with word to shift one of the herds into a fresh pasture, an act on
which Carson had already decided, "some day I'll just take him between
my thum' an' finger an' anni-hilate him."
The greater bulk of the stock had been steadily shifted higher in the
hills. The hogs grazed on the slopes at the north of the Lower End;
cattle and horses had been pushed eastward to the little valleys in the
mountains about the lake. Even the plateau, where the old cabin stood,
was now stocked with Lee's prize string of horses. Then, one day
Hampton came galloping through the herds of shorthorns, seeking Carson.
"Crowd them down to the Lower End again," he shouted above the din.
"Cut out the scrawny ones and haze the rest into the pens."
Carson's steel-blue eyes snapped, his teeth showed like a dog's.
"Drunk?" he sneered. "What's eating you?"
"Do as you're told," retorted Hampton hotly. "Those are orders from
headquarters and it's up to you to obey them. Get me?"
"If ever I do get you, sonny," grunted Carson, "there won't be enough
of you left for the dawgs to quarrel over. Orders or no orders, I
ain't going to do no such fool thing."
Hampton reined his horse in closer, staring frowningly at the old
cattleman. The purplish color of rage mounted in Carson's tanned
cheeks.
"You'll do what you're told or go get your time," he announced tersely.
"We've got an order for five hundred beef cows and we're selling
immediately."
Carson's jaw dropped.
"What?" he demanded, not quite believing his ears. "Say that again,
will you?"
"I said it once," retorted Hampton. "Now get busy."
"Who are we selling to? I ain't heard about it."
"An oversight, my dear Mr. Carson," laughed Hampton, his own anger
risen. "Quite an oversight that you were not consulted. We are
selling to Doan, Rockwell & Haight. Ever heard of them?"
"Who says we're selling?"
"I say so. And, if you've got to have all the news, Miss Sanford says
so."
"She does, does she? Hm-m. First I knew of it. What figger?"
"Really, does that concern you? If the price suits me and Miss
Sanford, who own the stock, does it in any way affect you? I don't
want to quarrel with you, Carson, and I do appreciate that you are a
good man in your way. But just because you have worked here a long
time, don't make the mistake of thinking that you own the ranch."
With that he whirled his horse, and was gone. Carson, with puckered
brows, stared after him.
But orders were orders, and Carson though the heart was sore, barked
out his commands to his herders to turn the cattle back toward the
lower fields. He had been converted to the new way, he had grown to
dream of the fat prices his cow brutes would fetch in the winter
market, he knew that prices now were rock-bottom low, that Doan,
Rockwell & Haight were close buyers who before now had cut the throat
of the Blue Lake ranch in sacrifice sales when Bayne Trevors ran the
outfit.
"We're standing to lose thousan's an' thousan's of dollars," he told
himself in disgust. "All we've spent on irrigation an' fences an'
silos an' ditches, all gone to heck in a han'-basket. Not counting
thousan's of more dollars lost in selling at what we can get this time
of year. It makes me sick, damn throwin'-up sick."
Riding down a long, winding trail, out through a patch of chaparral
into a rocky gorge, Hampton turned east again toward the higher
plateau. Taking the roundabout way which led from the far side of the
lake and along the flank of the mountain to the table-land, he came to
a scattering band of horses and Tommy Burkitt.
"Where's Lee?" called Hampton.
Burkitt grinned at him by way of greeting, and then pointed across the
plateau to a ravine leading to a still higher, smaller, shut-in valley.
Hampton galloped on and a quarter of an hour later came up with Lee.
The horse foreman was sitting still in his saddle, his eyes taking
stock of a fresh bit of pasture into which he planned turning his
horses a little later. It was one of a dozen small meadows on the
mountain creeks where the cañon walls widened out into an oval-shaped
valley, less than a half-mile long, where there was much rich grass.
"Hello, Hampton," called Lee pleasantly. "What's the word?"
The perspiration streaming down Hampton's face had in no way dampened
his ardor.
"Big doings," he cried warmly. "We're cutting loose, Bud, at last and
piling up the shining ducats! You're to gather up a hundred of the
most likely cayuses you've got and shove them down to the Lower End.
We're selling pretty heavily to Doan, Rockwell & Haight."
A new flicker came into Lee's eyes. Then they went hard as polished
agate.
"I didn't quite get you, Hampton," he said softly. "You say we're
selling a hundred horses? Now?"
Hampton nodded, understanding nothing of what lay in Lee's heart.
"On the jump, just as fast as we can get them on the run," he said
triumphantly. "Judith wanted me to tell you."
"I see," answered Lee slowly.
His eyes left Hampton's flushed face and went to the distant cliffs.
It was no way of Bud's to hide his eyes from a man, and yet now he did
hide them. He did not want Hampton to see what they showed so plainly,
in spite of his attempt to master his emotion. He was hurt. Long ago
he had offended Judith, and she had waited until now to repay his rude
insult with this cool little slap in the face. She had not consulted
him, she had not mentioned a sale to him, and now she sent Hampton and
did not even come to him with a word of explanation. It was quite as
if she had said:
"You are just a servant of mine, like the rest, Bud Lee, and I treat
you accordingly."
Until Judith had come, there had been nothing that this man loved as he
did his work among his horses. He watched them as day after day they
grew into clean-blooded perfection; he appraised their values; he saw
personally to their education, helping each one of them individually to
become the true representative of the proudest species of animal life.
Had he turned his eye now to the herd down yonder he could have seen
the animal he had selected for a brood-mare next year, the
three-year-old destined to draw all eyes as he stepped daintily among
the best of the single-footers in Golden Gate Park, the rich red bay
gelding that he would mate for a splendid carriage team. . . . Oh, he
knew them all like human friends, planned the future for each, the sale
of each would be no sorrow but rather a triumph of success. And now,
to see them lumped and sold to Doan, Rockwell & Haight--even that hurt.
But most of all did Judith's treatment of him cut, cut deep.
"You're a fool, Bud Lee," he told himself softly. "Oh, God, what a
fool!"
"The buyers will be here the first thing to-morrow," said Hampton.
"Judith says we're to have everything ready for them."
"I'll not keep her waiting," answered Lee quietly. And with a quick
touch of the spur he whirled his horse and left Hampton abruptly, going
straight to the plateau.
"Round 'em up, Tommy," he said sharply. "Every damned hoof of them:
They go back to the corrals."
Though quick questions surged up in Tommy's brain, none of them was
asked just yet, for he had seen the look on Lee's face.
It was early in the afternoon when Hampton carried his messages to
Carson and Lee. It was after dark when Lee, his work done, his heart
still sore and heavy, came into the men's bunk-house. It was very
still, though close to a dozen men were in the room. Lee's eyes found
Carson and he guessed the reason for the silence. Carson was in a
towering rage that flamed red-hot in his eyes; under the spell of his
dominating emotion, the men sat and stared at him.
"Well, what's wrong?" asked Lee coolly from the door.
"Good goddlemighty!" growled Carson snappishly. "You stan' there an'
ask what's the matter. If they's anything that ain't the matter an'
you'll spell its name to me I'll put in with you. The whole outfit's
going to pot, an' I, for one, don't care how soon it goes."
"Rather a nice way for a cattle foreman to talk about his ranch, isn't
it?" asked Lee colorlessly.
"Cattle foreman?" sniffed Carson with further expletives. "Now will
you stan' on your two feet an' explain to me how in blue blazes a man
can be a cattle foreman when there ain't no cattle!"
"So that's it, is it? I didn't know how close you were selling off----"
"Don't say _me_ selling! Why, I got silage to run my cow brutes all
winter, what with the dry feed in them cañons----"
Lee didn't hear the rest. It had been his intention to come in and
smoke with the boys, and perhaps play a game of whist. Anything to
keep from thinking. But now, moving on impulse, he turned and left the
shack, going swiftly up the knoll to the ranch-house.
Just stepping into the courtyard soft under the moon, tinkling with the
play of the fountains, stirred his heart to quicker beating. He had
not set foot here for over two months, not since that night which he
knew he should forget and yet to whose memory he clung desperately.
This was the first time in many a long week that he had gone out of his
way to seek Judith. And now words which Judith herself had spoken to
him one day were now at least a part of the cause sending him to speak
with her. She had said that he was loyal, that she needed loyal men.
He still took her wage, he was still a Blue Lake ranch-hand, he still
owed her his loyalty, though it came from a sore heart.
If she were hard driven in some way which she had not seen fit to
confide to him, if she were forced to make this tremendous sale, if she
were mad or had at last lost her nerve, frightened at the thought of
the heavy sums of money to be raised at the end of the winter, well,
then it still could do no harm for him to speak his mind to her.
Hampton had told him the price which the horses were to bring; it was
pitifully small and Lee meant to tell her so, to tell her further that
he would guarantee an enormous gain over it if she gave him time. He
would be doing his part though she called him meddler for his pains.
Marcia Langworthy, hidden in a big chair on the veranda, watched him
approach with interest, though Lee was unconscious of her presence. He
had lifted a hand to rap at the door when she called to him, saying:
"Good evening, Mr. Mysterious Lee. Have you forgotten me?"
Though he had pretty well forgotten her, it was not necessary to tell
her that he had. He came toward her, putting out his hand.
"Good evening, Miss Langworthy," he said cordially. "I haven't seen
much of you this time, have I? Two reasons, you know: busy all day and
half the night, for one thing, and for another, Hampton has monopolized
you, hasn't he?"
Marcia laughed softly.
"To a man your size the second reason is absurd. . . . Will you sit
down? You see, I am taking it for granted that you come here to see
me. Unless," and her eyes twinkled brightly up at him, "you were
surreptitiously calling on Mrs. Simpson?"
"I'd love to talk with you," he assured her. "But, as I've just
hinted, my work here has got into the habit of running away with me
into the night. I really came up for a word with Miss Sanford."
"Oh, didn't you know?" asked Marcia. "Judith isn't here."
"Isn't here?" He frowned. "No, I didn't know. I haven't seen much of
her lately and didn't know her plans. Where is she?"
"In San Francisco. Her lawyers sent for her, you know. Something
about a tangle in her father's business. Funny you hadn't heard; she
left Saturday night."
Saturday? This was Tuesday evening. Judith had been away three full
days. Lee, thinking hurriedly, thought that he saw now the explanation
of Judith's ordering a sale like this. Her lawyers had found what
Marcia called a "tangle" in Luke Sanford's affairs; there had been an
insistent call for a large sum of money to straighten it out, and
Judith had accepted the only solution.
Still, it didn't seem like Judith to sell like this at a figure so
ridiculously low. Doan, Rockwell & Haight were not the only buyers on
the coast. Lee himself could get more for the horses if he had two
days' time to look around; the cattle were worth a great deal more than
they were being sold for, even with the market down.
"Did she have an idea what the trouble was before she left?" he asked
finally.
"Why," said Marcia, "I don't know. You see, she slipped out late
Saturday night after we'd all gone to bed. There was a message for her
over the telephone; she got up, dressed, saddled her own horse and rode
into Rocky Bend alone, just leaving a note for me that she might be
gone a week or two."
Just why he experienced a sense of uneasiness even then, Lee did not
know. It was like Judith to act swiftly when need be; to go alone and
on the spur of the minute to catch her train; to slip out quietly
without disturbing her guest.
"You have heard from her since?" he demanded abruptly.
"Not a word," said Marcia. "She doesn't like letter-writing and so I
haven't expected to hear from her."
Lee chatted with her for a moment, then claiming work still to be done,
turned to go back down the knoll. A new thought upon him, he once more
came to Marcia's side.
"I expect I'd better see Hampton," he said. "Do you know where he is?"
"Where he has been every night since Judith left," laughed Marcia.
"He's old Mr. Business Man these days. In the office."
There Lee found him. Hampton, his hair ruffled, Judith's table
littered with market reports, and many sheets of paper covered with
untidy figures, looked up at Lee's entrance.
"Hello, Bud," he said, reaching for cigarette and match. "Got
everything ready for to-morrow?"
"Why didn't you tell me Miss Sanford had gone away?" was Lee's sharp
rejoinder. Hampton flushed.
"Devil take those two eyes of yours, Bud," he said testily. "They've
got a way of boring through a man until he feels like they were
scorching the furniture behind him. Well, I'll tell you. While Judith
is away I am running this outfit. And if the men think I'm coming
straight from her with an order they obey it. If they get the notion
she isn't here, they're apt to ask questions. That's why."
"This sale to Doan, Rockwell & Haight," said Lee quickly. "You didn't
cook that up, did you, Hampton?"
"Lord, no!" cried Hampton. From its place on a file he took a yellow
slip of paper, tossing it to Lee. "She sent me that this morning."
It was a Western Union telegram, saying briefly:
POLLOCK HAMPTON,
Blue Lake Ranch.
Am forced to sell heavily. Sending Doan, Rockwell & Haight Wednesday
morning, one hundred horses; as many beef cattle as Carson can round
up. Accept terms made in their letter to you last week.