The first time Lance Gardley met Rosa Rogers riding with Archie
Forsythe he thought little of it. He knew the girl by sight, because he
knew her father in a business way. That she was very young and one of
Margaret's pupils was all he knew about her. For the young man he had
conceived a strong dislike, but as there was no reason whatever for it
he put it out of his mind as quickly as possible.
The second time he met them it was toward evening and they were so
wholly absorbed in each other's society that they did not see him until
he was close upon them. Forsythe looked up with a frown and a quick hand
to his hip, where gleamed a weapon.
He scarcely returned the slight salute given by Gardley, and the two
young people touched up their horses and were soon out of sight in the
mesquite. But something in the frightened look of the girl's eyes caused
Gardley to turn and look after the two.
Where could they be going at that hour of the evening? It was not a
trail usually chosen for rides. It was lonely and unfrequented, and led
out of the way of travelers. Gardley himself had been a far errand for
Jasper Kemp, and had taken this short trail back because it cut off
several miles and he was weary. Also, he was anxious to stop in Ashland
and leave Mom Wallis's request that Margaret would spend the next
Sabbath at the camp and see the new curtains. He was thinking what he
should say to her when he saw her in a little while now, and this
interruption to his thoughts was unwelcome. Nevertheless, he could not
get away from that frightened look in the girl's eyes. Where could they
have been going? That fellow was a new-comer in the region; perhaps he
had lost his way. Perhaps he did not know that the road he was taking
the girl led into a region of outlaws, and that the only habitation
along the way was a cabin belonging to an old woman of weird reputation,
where wild orgies were sometimes celebrated, and where men went who
loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.
Twice Gardley turned in his saddle and scanned the desert. The sky was
darkening, and one or two pale stars were impatiently shadowing forth
their presence. And now he could see the two riders again. They had come
up out of the mesquite to the top of the mesa, and were outlined against
the sky sharply. They were still on the trail to old Ouida's cabin!
With a quick jerk Gardley reined in his horse and wheeled about,
watching the riders for a moment; and then, setting spurs to his beast,
he was off down the trail after them on one of his wild, reckless rides.
Down through the mesquite he plunged, through the darkening grove, out,
and up to the top of the mesa. He had lost sight of his quarry for the
time, but now he could see them again riding more slowly in the valley
below, their horses close together, and even as he watched the sky took
on its wide night look and the stars blazed forth.
Suddenly Gardley turned sharply from the trail and made a detour through
a grove of trees, riding with reckless speed, his head down to escape
low branches; and in a minute or two he came with unerring instinct back
to the trail some distance ahead of Forsythe and Rosa. Then he wheeled
his horse and stopped stock-still, awaiting their coming.
By this time the great full moon was risen and, strangely enough, was at
Gardley's back, making a silhouette of man and horse as the two riders
came on toward him.
They rode out from the cover of the grove, and there he was across their
path. Rosa gave a scream, drawing nearer her companion, and her horse
swerved and reared; but Gardley's black stood like an image carved in
ebony against the silver of the moon, and Gardley's quiet voice was in
strong contrast to the quick, unguarded exclamation of Forsythe, as he
sharply drew rein and put his hand hastily to his hip for his weapon.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Forsythe"--Gardley had an excellent memory for
names--"but I thought you might not be aware, being a new-comer in these
parts, that the trail you are taking leads to a place where ladies do
not like to go."
"Really! You don't say so!" answered the young man, insolently. "It is
very kind of you, I'm sure, but you might have saved yourself the
trouble. I know perfectly where I am going, and so does the lady, and
we choose to go this way. Move out of the way, please. You are detaining
us."
But Gardley did not move out of the way. "I am sure the lady does not
know where she is going," he said, firmly. "I am sure that she does not
know that it is a place of bad reputation, even in this unconventional
land. At least, if she knows, I am sure that _her father_ does not know,
and I am well acquainted with her father."
"Get out of the way, sir," said Forsythe, hotly. "It certainly is none
of your business, anyway, whoever knows what. Get out of the way or I
shall shoot. This lady and I intend to ride where we please."
"Then I shall have to say you _cannot_," said Gardley; and his voice
still had that calm that made his opponent think him easy to conquer.
"Just how do you propose to stop us?" sneered Forsythe, pulling out his
pistol.
"This way," said Gardley, lifting a tiny silver whistle to his lips and
sending forth a peculiar, shrilling blast. "And this way," went on
Gardley, calmly lifting both hands and showing a weapon in each,
wherewith he covered the two.
Rosa screamed and covered her face with her hands, cowering in her
saddle.
Forsythe lifted his weapon, but looked around nervously. "Dead men tell
no tales," he said, angrily.
"It depends upon the man," said Gardley, meaningly, "especially if he
were found on this road. I fancy a few tales could be told if you
happened to be the man. Turn your horses around at once and take this
lady back to her home. My men are not far off, and if you do not wish
the whole story to be known among your friends and hers you would better
make haste."
Forsythe dropped his weapon and obeyed. He decidedly did not wish his
escapade to be known among his friends. There were financial reasons why
he did not care to have it come to the ears of his brother-in-law just
now.
Silently in the moonlight the little procession took its way down the
trail, the girl and the man side by side, their captor close behind, and
when the girl summoned courage to glance fearsomely behind her she saw
three more men riding like three grim shadows yet behind. They had
fallen into the trail so quietly that she had not heard them when they
came. They were Jasper Kemp, Long Bill, and Big Jim. They had been out
for other purposes, but without question followed the call of the
signal.
It was a long ride back to Rogers's ranch, and Forsythe glanced
nervously behind now and then. It seemed to him that the company was
growing larger all the time. He half expected to see a regiment each
time he turned. He tried hurrying his horse, but when he did so the
followers were just as close without any seeming effort. He tried to
laugh it all off.
Once he turned and tried to placate Gardley with a few shakily jovial
words:
"Look here, old fellow, aren't you the man I met on the trail the day
Miss Earle went over to the fort? I guess you've made a mistake in your
calculations. I was merely out on a pleasure ride with Miss Rogers. We
weren't going anywhere in particular, you know. Miss Rogers chose this
way, and I wanted to please her. No man likes to have his pleasure
interfered with, you know. I guess you didn't recognize me?"
"I recognized you," said Gardley. "It would be well for you to be
careful where you ride with ladies, especially at night. The matter,
however, is one that you would better settle with Mr. Rogers. My duty
will be done when I have put it into his hands."
"Now, my good fellow," said Forsythe, patronizingly, "you surely don't
intend to make a great fuss about this and go telling tales to Mr.
Rogers about a trifling matter--"
"I intend to do my duty, Mr. Forsythe," said Gardley; and Forsythe
noticed that the young man still held his weapons. "I was set this night
to guard Mr. Rogers's property. That I did not expect his daughter would
be a part of the evening's guarding has nothing to do with the matter. I
shall certainly put the matter into Mr. Rogers's hands."
Rosa began to cry softly.
"Well, if you want to be a fool, of course," laughed Forsythe,
disagreeably; "but you will soon see Mr. Rogers will accept my
explanation."
"That is for Mr. Rogers to decide," answered Gardley, and said no more.
The reflections of Forsythe during the rest of that silent ride were not
pleasant, and Rosa's intermittent crying did not tend to make him more
comfortable.
The silent procession at last turned in at the great ranch gate and rode
up to the house. Just as they stopped and the door of the house swung
open, letting out a flood of light, Rosa leaned toward Gardley and
whispered:
"Please, Mr. Gardley, don't tell papa. I'll do _anything_ in the world
for you if you won't tell papa."
He looked at the pretty, pitiful child in the moonlight. "I'm sorry,
Miss Rosa," he said, firmly. "But you don't understand. I must do my
duty."
"Then I shall hate you!" she hissed. "Do you hear? I shall _hate_ you
forever, and you don't know what that means. It means I'll take my
_revenge_ on you and on _everybody you like_."
He looked at her half pityingly as he swung off his horse and went up
the steps to meet Mr. Rogers, who had come out and was standing on the
top step of the ranch-house in the square of light that flickered from a
great fire on the hearth of the wide fireplace. He was looking from one
to another of the silent group, and as his eyes rested on his daughter
he said, sternly:
"Why, Rosa, what does this mean? You told me you were going to bed with
a headache!"
Gardley drew his employer aside and told what had happened in a few
low-toned sentences; and then stepped down and back into the shadow, his
horse by his side, the three men from the camp grouped behind him. He
had the delicacy to withdraw after his duty was done.
Mr. Rogers, his face stern with sudden anger and alarm, stepped down and
stood beside his daughter. "Rosa, you may get down and go into the house
to your own room. I will talk with you later," he said. And then to the
young man, "You, sir, will step into my office. I wish to have a plain
talk with you."
A half-hour later Forsythe came out of the Rogers house and mounted his
horse, while Mr. Rogers stood silently and watched him.
"I will bid you good evening, sir," he said, formally, as the young man
mounted his horse and silently rode away. His back had a defiant look in
the moonlight as he passed the group of men in the shadow; but they did
not turn to watch him.
"That will be all to-night, Gardley, and I thank you very much," called
the clear voice of Mr. Rogers from his front steps.
The four men mounted their horses silently and rode down a little
distance behind the young man, who wondered in his heart just how much
or how little Gardley had told Rosa's father.
The interview to which young Forsythe had just been subjected had been
chastening in character, of a kind to baffle curiosity concerning the
father's knowledge of details, and to discourage any further romantic
rides with Miss Rosa. It had been left in abeyance whether or not the
Temples should be made acquainted with the episode, dependent upon the
future conduct of both young people. It had not been satisfactory from
Forsythe's point of view; that is, he had not been so easily able to
disabuse the father's mind of suspicion, nor to establish his own
guileless character as he had hoped; and some of the remarks Rogers made
led Forsythe to think that the father understood just how unpleasant it
might become for him if his brother-in-law found out about the
escapade.
This is why Archie Forsythe feared Lance Gardley, although there was
nothing in the least triumphant about the set of that young man's
shoulders as he rode away in the moonlight on the trail toward Ashland.
And this is how it came about that Rosa Rogers hated Lance Gardley,
handsome and daring though he was; and because of him hated her teacher,
Margaret Earle.
An hour later Lance Gardley stood in the little dim Tanner parlor,
talking to Margaret.
"You look tired," said the girl, compassionately, as she saw the haggard
shadows on the young face, showing in spite of the light of pleasure in
his eyes. "You look _very_ tired. What in the world have you been
doing?"
"I went out to catch cattle-thieves," he said, with a sigh, "but I found
there were other kinds of thieves abroad. It's all in the day's work.
I'm not tired now." And he smiled at her with beautiful reverence.
Margaret, as she watched him, could not help thinking that the lines in
his face had softened and strengthened since she had first seen him, and
her eyes let him know that she was glad he had come.
"And so you will really come to us, and it isn't going to be asking too
much?" he said, wistfully. "You can't think what it's going to be to the
men--to _us_! And Mom Wallis is so excited she can hardly get her work
done. If you had said no I would be almost afraid to go back." He
laughed, but she could see there was deep earnestness under his tone.
"Indeed I will come," said Margaret. "I'm just looking forward to it.
I'm going to bring Mom Wallis a new bonnet like one I made for mother;
and I'm going to teach her how to make corn gems and steamed apple
dumplings. I'm bringing some songs and some music for the violin; and
I've got something for you to help me do, too, if you will?"
He smiled tenderly down on her. What a wonderful girl she was, to be
willing to come out to the old shack among a lot of rough men and one
uncultured old woman and make them happy, when she was fit for the
finest in the land!
"You're _wonderful_!" he said, taking her hand with a quick pressure for
good-by. "You make every one want to do his best."
He hurried out to his horse and rode away in the moonlight. Margaret
went up to her "mountain window" and watched him far out on the trail,
her heart swelling with an unnamed gladness over his last words.
"Oh, God, keep him, and help him to make good!" she prayed.