THE GIRL
Red Sullivan, having secured both horses, started with Mason to the
house. As they neared the porch they heard the girl talking in a tone
of reproof to Scotty. He was twirling his hat like an awkward school
boy. Red stopped Mason and whispered:
“Jack, if you want to hear a man get called down right and proper,
listen. That’s her father on the porch,” he added.
Mason drew back and watched the scene with keen amusement.
“Scotty!” the girl was saying, “you have been drinking, I’m ashamed of
you, and of all times when you should have kept sober. What will this
gentleman from New York think of us?” she demanded imperiously.
Suddenly catching sight of Mason she turned swiftly and entered the
house. Red was fairly exploding with laughter at Scotty’s
discomfiture.
“Come on, Jack,” he said with a grin. “I’ll make you acquainted with
Mr. Walters.”
Scotty had started for the corral. As he was passing them Red could
not restrain from a sly dig.
“Guess I was right on that call down stuff, eh?”
Scotty scowled and strode past him without a word.
Red introduced Mason to the owner of the ranch. Mr. Walters was a tall
and powerfully built man with a face tanned and wrinkled from long
exposure to sun and wind.
“So, you are Mason’s boy, eh?” he said, shaking hands with a vise-like
grip. “Glad to meet you. Used to know your dad years ago back East.
Hope you will like this country, great air and will do you all kinds
of good.”
Mason took to him on the instant, for all of his bluff ways.
“Jack, come into the house; no, wait a minute and I’ll make you
acquainted with my daughter. Josephine,” he called in a stentorian
voice.
“Yes, coming, Daddy,” came the answer in bell-like tones. Suddenly the
girl appeared at the door. Mason gave a start of surprise. When he
first saw her on the porch with her father she was dressed in riding
habit, but now she wore a dress of some fluffy creation such as the
girls of his acquaintance wore back East. It was a delicate shade of
blue and matched her hair which was a golden brown. Her eyes were of a
grayish blue.
Taken by surprise, he could only stammer through the introduction
which her father made. The girl was quick to see his distress and
said:
“Daddy, you show Mr. Mason to his room while mother and I see about
supper.”
“You must be about famished,” she added, turning to Mason with an arch
smile.
He had recovered his composure to some extent by this time, saying, “I
am somewhat hungry, Miss Walters, and accept your invitation to supper
with pleasure.”
The girl hastily withdrew to help her mother in the kitchen.
“She’s a thoroughbred,” declared her father, gazing after her fondly.
While being conducted to his room, Mason attempted to show Mr. Walters
the letter of introduction which his father had given him, but the
ranch owner wouldn’t consider it.
“Guess I know your father well enough to recognize his son.”
After a wash and a change of clothes, Mason felt refreshed. Making his
way downstairs he was presented to Mrs. Walters. It was a merry party
that gathered around the supper table. Red, having been invited, told
some stories with such droll wit that he kept Mason laughing
throughout the meal. The girl was an interested listener and
occasionally put in a word. She appeared anxious to make the Easterner
feel at home. After supper the party sat on the porch while the ranch
owner entertained his guest with tales of life on the range.
A little later the ranch owner excused himself, saying he was getting
old and must retire early to bed. The girl coaxed her mother to remain
up a little longer and soon the three were talking on general
subjects. The open-hearted hospitality of these Western people was
pleasing to Mason, and that night after retiring to his room, he
confessed to himself that he was beginning to look upon his new career
with growing favor.
The next morning he awoke to find the sun streaming in his window, and
hearing sounds of activity below, he dressed hastily. Going downstairs
he was greeted with a cheery good morning from Mrs. Walters who was
busily preparing the morning meal.
“Breakfast will be ready in about half an hour, and you can look
around a bit if you wish,” she announced.
“Josephine is outdoors somewhere,” she added.
Mason nodded pleasantly and started for a walk to the corral. As he
turned the corner of the house he came across a sight that filled him
with amusement. It was the girl; she was romping with a great St.
Bernard dog.
Quickening his pace, he soon came up to her.
“Good morning, Miss Walters,” he said, his eyes twinkling.
The girl looked up quickly, exclaiming,
“Oh, it’s you, Sir New Yorker. Well, I wish to make a bargain with
you. You may call me Josephine and I’ll call you Jack.”
“That goes,” he agreed, falling in with her humor.
The girl was fondling her dog again and Mason murmured softly,
“Love me, love my dog.”
“What did you say?” the girl asked, looking up brightly.
He smiled and shook his head.
“Well, it was something about a dog,” she declared.
“You must be great friends with my dog. His name is Rover. Shake hands
with the gentleman, Rover.”
The dog offered a huge paw, which Mason shook in solemn friendship.
“There,” declared the girl gaily, “you now have a friend for life.”
“What I would like to know,” he questioned, “is where all the cowboys
keep themselves?”
“Oh,” the girl answered. “I supposed that Red or Scotty had shown you
the bunk-house. It is that building you see just beyond the corral.
All the boys sleep there. Come, let’s go in to breakfast.”
After the meal the girl motioned for Mason to follow her. When they
were outside she said:
“Daddy is down to the bunk-house. I have ordered Scotty to saddle
Fleet and a horse for you; then we are going to see Dad, and I’ll have
him introduce you to the boys.”
“Did you beat Scotty in yesterday?” he asked.
“Did I?” Josephine tossed her head proudly. “Outside of Bud Anderson’s
horse, there isn’t one on the range that can overtake Fleet.”
“Who is Bud Anderson?” he queried, getting interested.
“Why, didn’t you know?” she asked in surprise. “Bud Anderson! he’s the
foreman of our ranch, and Sheriff of this County. He taught me how to
shoot and ride. I have known him ever since I can remember.”
“I do remember of Red telling about a foreman and Sheriff but he
didn’t mention his name,” he answered vaguely.
“Here comes Scotty with our horses,” the girl cried, clapping her
hands with glee.
Mason was a little stiff from being in the saddle the day before.
“I’m afraid I’ll prove a poor rider if I have to keep up with you,
Miss Josephine,” he said dismally.
The girl gave him a swift look.
“We are going to have a nice little ride and I am going to teach you
how to ride fast and shoot,” she declared with fine assurance.
Mason noticed for the first time that she carried in her belt a small
Colt’s revolver. Scotty had come up with the horses and after greeting
him they mounted and rode slowly to the bunk-house.
“Some of the boys are riding the range, Jack,” she explained as they
dismounted at the door.
Putting a whistle to her lips she blew a long shrill note.
“Coming,” called a voice from within.
The door flew open and the ranch owner appeared.
“Daddy,” the girl began before he could speak, “I would like you to
make Jack acquainted with the boys.”
“Jack, eh,” he said with a grin, winking at Mason.
The girl blushed and glanced reprovingly at her father.
The ranch owner stepped inside and called briskly,
“Tumble out here, boys, I want to make you acquainted with a friend of
mine from New York.”
The men were soon lined up, and the ranch owner starting with the
largest one of the lot, said, “Jack, this is my assistant foreman,
Joe Turner.”
Then he named them in turn. Mason shook hands heartily with them all,
but when he came to Carlo and Powers he took an instant dislike to
them. Carlo had squinting eyes and his hand had a cold snaky feeling.
Mason drew back in disgust and could hardly repress a shiver down his
back.
The girl broke the tension by saying,
“Daddy, Jack and I are going to take a little ride.”
“Don’t make him tired of you the first day,” he warned her, nudging
Mason in the ribs.
“That’s not nice of you, Daddy,” she called back to him as they rode
off.
Mason noticed that Powers had a sneer on his face as Josephine rode
past him, and it increased his dislike for the man. They had gotten
well out of sight of the ranch buildings when the girl again spoke,
“Jack, I am going to take you over some of our range land and in
return you must tell me about New York and your folks. Also, may I
ask, why did you get so confused when Daddy introduced me last night?”
“Why,” he countered, “did you rush into the house when you caught
sight of me?”
“I didn’t want you to hear me calling Scotty down,” she replied
demurely, “but you have not answered my question.”
“I was surprised to see you in such a pretty dress.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, her eyes opening wide, “do you think we are
barbarians out here and don’t know how to dress?”
“No,” he answered lamely, “but I was pleasantly surprised with you.”
Josephine rode in silence.
“I don’t know if I am to take that for a compliment or not,” she said
at last.
“I am sure I meant it for a compliment,” he interposed hastily.
“You have a ready tongue,” she laughed, “but be careful you don’t slip
up.”
“How is it that I didn’t see this Bud Anderson you tell about?” he
asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, he’s away on business for Dad; we expect him back most any time
now.”
They were riding at an easy canter and had covered about fifteen
miles. Mason was gradually getting over his lameness of the day
before. The air was bracing and spicy with the smell of sage brush.
Far off down the valley he could see cattle grazing. It was his first
view of a large herd. In the distance he could see the mountains with
their lofty peaks looming up in majestic splendor. The grandeur of it
all filled him with awe.
Josephine broke his reverie by saying, “Oh, I hope you will like it
out here. Look! off there to the West is Devil’s Gap.”
“Devil’s Gap,” he repeated.
“Yes, come, we’ll ride out that way and I’ll tell you about it.”
Putting the spurs to his horse he tried to keep up with her.
“I am afraid you’re going too fast for me,” he called after her
ruefully.
A silvery laugh floated back to him as she checked her horse to a
slower pace. Her eyes were sparkling with mischief as he rode up to
her.
“Forgive me, Sir Jack,” she said. “I forgot you are not used to the
saddle.”
He looked keenly at her.
“I must appear an awful big dub in your eyes,” he said slowly.
He was thinking of the poor comparison he would make if Bud Anderson
was along. A severe look came into Josephine’s face.
“If you think I feel that way,” she said gravely, “we’ll go back to
the ranch.”
He laughed boyishly.
“Let’s not quarrel, you said we would ride out to this Devil’s Gap and
you promised to tell me the story of it.”
“Please set the pace, but not too fast,” he added with mock
seriousness.
“I said we would ride out that way,” Josephine corrected him. She was
smiling now.
“Here’s a girl I can’t fathom,” admitted Mason to himself.
“I am waiting to hear that story, Josephine,” he said, coming back to
the subject.
“Devil’s Gap,” she began, “is an opening in that ridge of mountains
you see ahead of us. It leads up a winding trail to a plateau that
joins another ridge. About a year ago a band of lawless outlaws and
ex-cowboys had been operating around these parts. They were led by a
desperado named Banty Hayes; he’s a cousin to the man who owns the
Ricker ranch. It touches our boundary line where you saw our cattle
grazing——”
“Yes,” cut in Mason, “Red told me about this man Ricker. He says your
foreman thinks he is running your cattle over the line. He also spoke
about Powers trying to get fresh with you.”
“I wouldn’t put it past Powers to steal Dad’s cattle,” the girl
resumed, “and as for Tom Powers, he is a sneak. But I am getting away
from my story. This gang numbered about six members and they had been
terrorizing the miners and ranch owners for miles around. The last
hold-up they pulled off was at the little station four miles south of
Trader’s Post. They held up the midnight through train, and ordered
the express messenger to open the safe. He refused and they shot and
killed him. It caused great excitement among the cattlemen, and the
Railroad Company offered a large reward for their capture.
“A posse was hastily organized with Big Joe Turner leading them. Bud
Anderson was away on business at the time. Daddy wired him to come
home at once. When he arrived, Buck Miller had just ridden in with the
news that they had trailed the gang to Devil’s Gap.
“Bud buckled on his guns and with Miller they beat it for the Gap.
When they arrived at the foothills, Scotty and Red had received bullet
wounds and were in a killing mood.
“Banty Hayes had always boasted that he and his men could hold off a
regiment of men, once they had gained the plateau. They had made it a
sort of a rendezvous in the past, but no one had been able to round
them up.
“Bud led Scotty and Red with the rest of the posse up the Gap trail.
It was a hot fight while it lasted. They forced the outlaws to the top
where they made a stand. Bud and Red and Scotty charged them, their
guns spitting a stream of lead. Banty Hayes was down with a bullet
through his head.
“The rest of the gang seeing their leader fall, surrendered. One of
the band told Joe Turner that they had intended to hold the posse off
until night and make their escape.
“Most all of Bud’s men had been hit, but Joe said the outlaws were
nervous for they never dreamed that Bud would dare to follow them up
to the plateau. So that is the reason there is bad blood between Bud
Anderson and Ricker,” the girl concluded.
They had turned and were riding the back trail. On the way home Mason
told the girl about New York and his sister Ethel.
Josephine was all attention when he explained why he came to leave
home, and how his father had made him a proposition to stay a year on
her father’s ranch.
“Do you think you can be good out here?” the girl asked mischievously.
“Yes, I think I can, with you for company,” he replied, smiling.
The girl looked him straight in the eyes.
“We are going to be great friends,” she said with a rare smile. “You
must invite your mother and sister out here.”
“I certainly will, and I am going to send for my ninety horse-power
car.”
“Oh, that will be fine,” the girl cried with enthusiasm. “I am just
crazy about riding fast. You must teach me how to drive. We will have
great fun with it. We have a negro cook and the boys call him Smoke,
he is so black. Bud took him on a trip to Chicago last summer and to
show Smoke a good time he hired a high powered car and told the
chauffeur to drive the limit.
“Well, Smoke never got over raving about that ride. Bud said his eyes
fairly popped out of his head and he was scared stiff. When he got
back home he told the boys in the mess room that Bud would never ‘get
him in one of them go-devils again’!”
Mason laughed heartily at her narrative.
The girl touched him on the shoulder and pointed in the direction
where he had seen the cattle grazing. He made out a horseman coming
their way.
“That’s Tex,” she said, “one of our boys, I can tell by the way he
rides.”
The rider halted and waited for them to come up. Mason noticed the
cowboy took his hat off when the girl spoke to him.
“Tex, this is Jack Mason from New York,” she said, introducing the
Easterner.
“How de do?” he jerked out in an offhand manner, “just rode in from
the boundary line. Sort of keeping an eye on the Ricker gang,” he
added, addressing his conversation to the girl.
“What’s the matter, Tex, have they been kicking up any trouble?” she
queried in an anxious voice.
“Don’t exactly know,” he snapped out, “they have been acting mighty
queer since them two punchers joined our outfit. Joe gave me orders to
keep watch of them.”
Tex was a tall lanky cowboy and extremely nervous. He had a peculiar
habit of pulling his belt up to the last notch and letting it out
again while talking. Mason sized him up as a hard man to handle at
close quarters.
The girl shrugged her shoulders.
“I know who you mean, Tex,” the girl said, “Powers and Carlo.”
He nodded grimly.
“Never mind, Tex. I guess Bud can take care of them. You ride in with
us, we will tire Jack out with all our troubles.”
“I reckon I could take care of them if I get half a chance,” declared
Tex with a grunt.
He had hitched his belt up until it seemed to Mason that his waist was
small as a bean pole, started ahead, riding his horse like one born to
the saddle.
The girl rode close to Mason, keeping up an easy conversation. He was
surprised at her knowledge of all things in general.
“Some day,” she was saying, “we will ride out to the boundary line and
I will show you the Ricker ranch. It is a fine place and they have as
much range as Daddy has. They have a girl working for them, too. She
is Spanish and a beauty, that is, if you like a brunette.” Josephine
was half laughing, and watching him out of the corner of her eyes.
“I can tell better after I have seen her,” he replied, evasively.