THE UNUSED PLATE
At sundown, when Parker and the cowboys rode in from the northern hills,
the Quarter Circle KT lay under a mantle of sullen, torturing heat. Not
a breath of air fanned the poplars, straight and motionless, in front of
the house. The sun buried itself in a solid wall of black that rose
above the Costejo peaks, hidden now in the shadow of the coming storm.
The horses were dripping with sweat--their coats as glossy and wet as if
they had swum the river. At the corral the animals wearily tossed their
heads, low hung with exhaustion, seeking to shift the sticky clutch of
head-stall or hackamore, while their riders dismounted and quickly
removed saddle and riding gear. Freed from their burdens the bronchos
dragged tired heels through the dust as they whirled and trotted
unsteadily away to the pasture, eager to roll and relax their aching
muscles.
"Holy cats, but it's hot!" Bert Lilly exclaimed as he slipped off his
chaps and started toward the house, leaving saddle and outfit lying
beside the gate of the corral.
"Better put them things in the shed," Parker advised, "looks like a
whale of a storm is coming."
"Reckon that's right," Bert answered, turning back and carrying his
riding gear into the shelter where the other cowboys already had taken
theirs.
"Wonder if them women come?" Chuck Slithers queried as they moved toward
the gate.
"More than likely--Bet Skinny and Old Heck have had a hell of a time
making love to 'em," Charley Saunders remarked.
"You want to be careful about cussin'," Parker warned. "It ain't polite
when women are around!"
"Listen at him!" Bert said with a laugh, "practising already--Parker is
getting polite--to-morrow is his day to be affectionate to the widow,
Ophelia--"
"Which is she, Parker," Charley asked soberly, "a grass or natural?"
"Shut up, you blamed fools, they're liable to hear you," Parker growled
angrily. "Anyhow, it ain't my fault they come!"
"Parker oughtn't to kick," Chuck chimed in, "look at poor old
Skinny--he's got a steady job lovin' the other one!"
"Darned if I wouldn't rather love both of them at once," Charley
observed, "than to take another ride like that was to-day. I'm kind of
anxious to see what they look like," he continued.
"Well, don't go and get excited at the supper table and eat your pie
with a spoon!" Chuck laughed.
"Aw, hell," Charley retorted, "I guess I know how to act--"
"Old Heck's going to buy some finger-bowls for you to wash your hands
in," Bert said scornfully, "him and Parker--"
"Shut up, I told you, you darned idiots," Parker snapped. "They're out
on the front porch and can hear you!"
"Be careful about your cussin'--" Bert mimicked with a snicker.
Notwithstanding their raillery every man in the group, including Pedro,
gave unusual care to scrubbing his face and smoothing his hair
preparatory to entering the kitchen for supper and where they would
meet, for the first time, Ophelia and Carolyn June.
Sing Pete glided out of the kitchen door and hammered the triangle
announcing the evening meal.
At the instant Parker and the cowboys filed into the kitchen from the
rear, Ophelia and Carolyn June, followed by Old Heck and Skinny Rawlins,
both looking sheepish and somewhat ashamed, stepped into the room from
the front.
All stood waiting and Old Heck, ill at ease and in a voice that
trembled, gave the party formal introduction:
"Missus Ophelia Cobb and Miss Carolyn June Dixon," motioning first at
the widow and then the girl, "Mister Parker, Mister Bert Lilly, Mister
Charley Saunders, Mister Chuck Slithers, Mister Pedro Valencia--"
indicating each in turn with his hand as he called the names, "--I
reckon you're already acquainted with Skinny!"
The cowboys mumbled greetings which Carolyn June and Ophelia graciously
acknowledged.
Sing Pete had laid two extra covers.
"You boys can take your regular places--all except you, Parker," Old
Heck said, "--you set at that side on this end," pointing to the seat at
the left next to the head of the table. "Carolyn June, you can set at
that end and Ophelia at this end--I'll set here," taking the seat at the
widow's right and directly across from Parker.
This placed Old Heck, Bert Lilly, Pedro and Skinny Rawlins on the right
of the table in the order named, Skinny sitting at the end on Carolyn's
left. On the opposite side sat Parker, Chuck Slithers and Charley. Next
to Charley, at the right of Carolyn June, and opposite Skinny, was a
vacant chair.
"Who is this for?" Carolyn June inquired, indicating the unoccupied
seat.
"That's th' Ramblin' Kid's place," Old Heck replied; "he may come in and
again he mayn't--"
"It was him you saw to-day," Skinny added, "riding down toward the
Narrows when we was coming from Eagle Butte."
"Do you know; where he went, Parker?" Old Heck asked.
"No. When we started over to the Springs he was here. Said he reckoned
we could get along without him and he wouldn't go--"
"He's just got one of them lonesome spells," Bert said, "and wanted to
get off by himself somewhere."
"He knowed we was going to have company, too," Chuck observed.
"More than likely that's why he went," Skinny suggested.
"Is he afraid of women?" Carolyn June laughed.
"Not particularly," Skinny replied; "he don't bother with them, that's
all."
"I think he went after that Gold Dust maverick," Charley said. "He'll
probably come in when he sees how it's going to storm--"
"He don't give a darn for storms," Bert declared. "--Pass them frijoles,
Pedro.--Remember that time it blowed the hay derrick down and he
wouldn't come to the house, just stayed out and watched the wind and
lightning?"
"He is funny that way," Charley admitted.
"Well, he'll never catch that mare," Parker said, "she's too--"
"Oh, I don't know," Chuck interrupted, "look how he has tamed Captain
Jack," referring to the Ramblin' Kid's own horse, one time a famous
renegade.
"How was that?" Carolyn June inquired carelessly.
"Captain Jack was an outlaw, too," Bert explained. "He run over on the
East Mesa on the Una de Gata. Charley and me and th' Ramblin' Kid got
him to going one day when there was some ranch mares in his bunch. One
of them was a hand-raised filly, was a pet and she was--well, pretty
hot! We worked them over the rim of the Mesa and into the canyon, it
was a box-gorge from where they hit it to its head, and at the upper end
there was a wing corral. The mare swung up the canyon towards the ranch
and--Jack wouldn't quit her! We was pounding right on their heels and
before he knowed it we had them penned--"
"That shows what happens when a he-thing goes locoed over a female
critter," Chuck whispered to Parker; "you and Old Heck want to watch
out!"
"Be careful, you danged fool!" Parker hissed as he kicked at Chuck's
shins under the table. Excited, he made a mistake in the foot he should
have used and viciously slammed his left toe against Ophelia's dainty
ankle.
The widow looked startled and suddenly sat up very straight in her
chair.
Parker realized his error, turned red, choked, leaned close to Chuck and
breathed hoarsely, "I'll kill you some day for that!"
"He sure went crazy when he found he was corraled," Charley said, "and
forgot all about the mare."
"He sure did," Bert continued, while Carolyn June listened intently,
"and was plumb wild to bu'st down the pen and be free again. Charley nor
me didn't want him and so th' Ramblin' Kid said he'd take him. Just then
Tony Malush--we was punchin' for him--come riding up and was going to
shoot Captain Jack on account of wanting to clean the range of the
outlaw stallions. He yanked out his gun and started to pull a drop on
old Jack's head. Th' Ramblin' Kid jerked his own forty-four and told
Tony he'd kill him if he shot the renegade broncho. Tony backed up, but
it made him sore and he fired th' Ramblin' Kid. The darned little cuss
set there a minute thinking, then slid off his horse, stripped him of
riding gear, flung saddle, blanket and bridle over the bars into the
corral. Before we knowed what he was aiming to do he climbed up and
dropped down inside, on foot, with just his rope, and faced that outlaw
battin' around trying to get outside--"
Carolyn June leaned forward on the table listening with breathless
interest. The others stopped eating and gave all their attention to the
story Bert was telling.
"Captain Jack saw him, stopped for just a second, sort of surprised,
then went right at th' Ramblin' Kid--head down, eyes blazin' like coals,
mouth wide open, ears laid back and strikin' with both front feet--"
"He was some wicked!" Charley ejaculated.
"He sure was," Bert went on. "Tony and Charley and me just set on our
horses stunned--thinkin' th' Kid had gone clean loco and was flirtin'
with certain and pronto death. As Captain Jack rushed him th' Ramblin'
Kid give a jump sideways, his rope went true, a quick run to the
snubbin' post and he throwed him dead! The broncho hit his feet, give a
squeal and come straight back! Th' Ramblin' Kid run once more, yankin'
like blazes to get the slack! That time when he went down--well, before
we realized it, th' Ramblin' Kid had him bridled and saddled and was
safe on deck--"
"I'm tellin' you too, Captain Jack went higher than a kite when he felt
the rowels in his flanks!" Charley interrupted.
"Th' Ramblin' Kid yelled for us to let him out," Bert continued.
"Charley and me flung down the bars to the corral and Captain Jack come
out sun-fishin' and hittin' the breeze like a streak of twisted
lightning! That was just before dinner in the forenoon. That afternoon
and night th' Ramblin' Kid rode the outlaw to the Hundred and
One--ninety miles away! We didn't see either of them any more for a
month and when they hit the Kiowa again Captain Jack was a regular baby
after th' Ramblin' Kid and would follow him around like a dog--"
"That's the way he's been ever since," Charley said, "them two are just
like sweethearts."
"Nobody else ever rides him--" Bert added.
"They can't," Chuck said. "He's a one-man horse and th' Ramblin' Kid is
the man. Captain Jack would die for th' Ramblin' Kid!"
"Yes, and kill any one else if he could!" Parker exclaimed.
"Has no one but--but the Ramblin' Kid"--Carolyn June hesitated queerly
over the name--"ever ridden him?"
"Never that we know of," Bert said; "several have tried it--the last
one was a fellow from down on the Chickasaw. Guess he was trying to
steal him. Anyway, we was all up at Eagle Butte and had left our horses
out in front of the Occidental Hotel while we was in the dining-room
eating our dinners. We got outside just in time to see the stranger hit
the ground and Captain Jack jump on him with all four feet doubled up in
a bunch--he's buried in that little graveyard you might have noticed on
the hill this side of the river bridge."
"Killed him?" Carolyn June gasped.
"Seemed like it." Bert answered, with a grin; "anyway, we buried him."
"What did the--the Ramblin' Kid do?" she asked.
"He just laughed kind of soft and scornful," Skinny said, "and got on
Captain Jack and rode away while we was picking the fellow up!"
During the rest of the meal Carolyn June's eyes looked frequently and
curiously at the unused plate at her right. She felt, some way, that an
affront had been shown her by the absence of the one for whom it was
laid. The other cowboys, it was quite evident to her intuitive woman's
mind, had looked forward with considerable eagerness to the arrival of
herself and Ophelia. The Ramblin' Kid, at the very moment almost of
their reaching the Quarter Circle KT, had deliberately mounted Captain
Jack and ridden away. It seemed like little less than an intentional
snub! In addition to the half-resentment she felt, there remained in
her mind an insistent and tormenting picture of the slender, subtle,
young rider swaying easily to the swing of Captain Jack as he galloped
down the valley earlier in the day.
Bert, Charley, Chuck, before the meal was finished cast frankly admiring
glances at Carolyn June and Skinny plainly was gaining confidence at a
rapid rate, while Pedro, silent throughout it all, kept, almost
constantly, his half-closed eyes fixed in a sidelong look at the girl at
the end of the table.
Attention and admiration, Carolyn June expected from men. They had
always been hers. She was beautiful and was conscious of it. Had the
cowboys of the Quarter Circle KT not registered appreciation of her
charms by their looks Carolyn June would have believed something was
wrong with her dress or the arrangement of her hair. Her eyes--she was
sure of them--without effort lured men to her feet.
"It's hotter than blue blazes in here," Old Heck said when all had
finished; "we'd better go out into the big room. Maybe Carolyn June will
play some on the piano."
"The boys and me will go on out on the porch," Parker said as they
reached the front room, speaking significantly to Old Heck, but in a
tone both Ophelia and Carolyn June heard. "We'll leave you and Skinny
with the ladies and not intrude--"
"You won't be intruding if you remain," Ophelia said brightly. "Carolyn
June and I are not partial at all and want you to feel that we enjoy
meeting you all."
"Yes, stay," Carolyn June added, somewhat reluctant that of the entire
group only one should be left to the wiles of her unconsciously
intentional coquetry; "there is plenty of room in here and it's cool--"
"We're much obliged," Bert said, "but we'd better do the way Parker
mentioned. Anyhow that was the agreement."
"Agreement?" Ophelia spoke with a questioning lift of her brows.
"Yes," Chuck said, evidently trying to relieve the embarrassment of Old
Heck, Parker and Skinny who looked daggers at Bert when he spoke of an
agreement, "Parker and Old Heck was to take turn about--"
"Bert meant," Parker interrupted hastily, "--he meant they--they had to
agree not to loaf in this room before Old Heck would give them jobs on
the Quarter Circle KT!"
"Yes," Old Heck added quickly, "that was the bargain on account
of--of--getting it mussed up and everything and making too much work for
Sing Pete to clean it up!"
Ophelia and Carolyn June looked curiously at each other as if they
suspected some secret that had to do with their presence at the Quarter
Circle KT.
Outside, the cowboys lounged on the porch or lay spread full length on
the grass smoking their cigarettes, and silent. Each was busy with
thoughts of his own. Carolyn June had been very impartial during the
evening meal, distributing her smiles and little attentions freely among
them all. Now she was sitting at the piano playing snatches of random
melodies as they came to her mind, while Skinny sat stiffly on a
high-backed chair at the corner of the instrument.
A drone of voices reached the ears of Parker and the cowboys as Old
Heck, skilfully led on by Ophelia, told about the ranch, the Kiowa range
and the traditions of western Texas.
"Can you play _La Paloma?_" Skinny asked as Carolyn June paused after
running over a dainty and vivacious one-step, memories of which made her
think of Hartville and the fashionable ballrooms where she had reigned
as princess at least if not as queen, and which seemed now very far
away.
"I'm afraid not--unless I have the music, but I'll try," she answered,
and her fingers again sought the keys.
The dreamy Mexican air drifted seductively out on the sultry motionless
night.
Bert looked through the window and saw Skinny lean back in his chair,
his eyes closed and an expression of supreme content stealing over his
face.
"Skinny's gone--he's surrendered," he said to Chuck, lying full length
on the porch at his side; "look at the poor cuss with his eyes shut and
grinning as if he was seeing visions of Paradise!"
"That combination would capture most anybody," Chuck answered. "I'm
starting to feel affectionate myself."
Bert didn't reply, Chuck having expressed too nearly his own swelling
emotions.
"Uncle Josiah!" Carolyn June called, suddenly whirling around on the
piano stool as she finished the last bars of _La Paloma_, "may I have a
horse?"
Old Heck, grown silent under the spell of the music, and, like Skinny,
sitting dreaming dreams that almost frightened him, started quickly.
"A--a what?" he asked.
"A horse--" she answered, "a broncho to ride!"
"Oh, uh--sure! Skinny, go get her one!" he replied confusedly.
"Not now," Carolyn June laughed, "to-morrow--any time, whenever I want
to use it!"
"Can you ride?" Skinny asked eagerly.
"Ever since I can remember," Carolyn June said, "daddy has kept
horses--I love 'em! Ophelia rides, too," she added.
"In automobiles--" Ophelia corrected.
"That's a good arrangement," Skinny said; "it will make everything work
out all right."
"I don't understand," Carolyn June said; "what arrangement?"
"We'd better be going to bed, Skinny," Old Heck interposed anxiously,
"it's getting late!"
"Guess we had," Skinny said reluctantly. "Gosh, it's warm to-night!"
"You can leave the door and windows open," Old Heck said to Ophelia and
Carolyn June as he and Skinny moved toward the door; "we don't have
burglars out here."
Parker and the cowboys straightened up when they heard Skinny and Old
Heck preparing to leave and went around the corner of the building
toward the bunk-house.
Ophelia and Carolyn June stepped out on the porch with Old Heck and
Skinny.
The air was oppressively still and hot. The black cloud bank that had
hung over the Costejo Mountains earlier in the evening now covered the
whole western half of the sky. Night sounds seemed almost stifled by the
suffocating heat. From the pasture below the stables the faint call of a
kill-deer suddenly shrilled out, followed by intense silence. No
lightning flash filled the wall-like blackness slowly creeping over the
earth from the west. A pale glow on the rim of the rolling hills across
the valley, herald of the moon not yet above the horizon, intensified
the pall beneath the approaching cloud. A sullen roar, throbbing
angrily, rising and falling in volume, could be heard coming out of the
depths of the storm.
"Acts like it's going to be a bad one," Old Heck observed, studying the
cloud they all were watching.
"Wicked," Skinny said, "one of them mutterin' kind until it breaks and
then all hell tears loose."
"If th' Ramblin' Kid is out in the sand-hills to-night he'll--"
A withering stream of fire poured from the cloud almost over their
heads; it was accompanied by a crashing peal of thunder that rocked the
earth under their feet and stopped the words on Old Heck's lips. The
flame lighted the whole valley. They had an instant's glimpse of a
writhing, overhanging curtain of dust and rain sweeping toward them. In
the glare they saw a giant cottonwood that stood alone in the meadow
west of the house reel and sway like a drunken thing and pitch to the
earth.
"It's here! It struck that tree!" Old Heck yelled. "Run for the
bunk-house, Skinny, maybe we can make it! You women go inside and shut
the door!"
Carolyn June and Ophelia sprang--were blown almost--inside the house and
slammed the door as another bolt fell, flooding the room with a blaze
that made the light from the lamp on the reading table seem faint and
dim. Old Heck and Skinny darted around the corner as the tempest pulled
and tugged at the buildings of the Quarter Circle KT.
For an hour Ophelia and Carolyn June sat and listened to the storm and
while it still raged went to bed.
Carolyn June fell asleep watching the incessant glare of the lightning
as flash after flash filled the room with light and illumined the world
outside, while the rain and wind lashed the trees in the garden near
her window. Above the tumult the words of Old Heck: "If the Ramblin' Kid
is out in the sand-hills to-night"--kept repeating themselves over and
over in her mind. Try as she would, she could not shut out the picture
of a slender young rider, alone, far out on the range in the storm-mad
night, unsheltered from the fury and wrath of the elements.