THE ROUND-UP.
JUST after dawn, Olive stole softly into Jack's and Jean's bedrooms.
Jean was asleep. But Jack's place was empty. On her pillow was a sheet
of paper addressed to "Miss Ruth Drew."
Olive alone of the group before the living-room fire in the evening just
past, had realized that Jack had no idea of giving up her intention.
Olive slipped quickly into her clothes, determined to follow her friend.
She was unusually timid, but she knew that Jack must not go alone among
the wild cattle and the strange men who gathered at the autumn round-up.
The girl had little knowledge of what a round-up was like but knew that
the Indians often went to it and camped about on the outskirts of the
plains to enjoy the racing and sports that usually closed the day's
work.
Jack must have had about a half hour's start of Olive. She rode as fast
as she could tear for the first few miles of the way, knowing that Jim
had started several hours before. Their cowboys had been off over the
plains for two days searching for their stray cattle and herding them
into the great open field selected for the round-up. There was no one to
follow her and Jack slowed down. Then her heart began to fail her the
least little bit, for she supposed everybody at the ranch would be
furious with her for her disobedience.
Jack heard another horse coming along the trail behind her. Her
repentance vanished, for she presumed Miss Drew had sent some one to
bring her ignominiously back home.
"Jack, Jack," Olive's gentle voice called. "Won't you please slow down a
little? Your horse is faster than mine and my poor beast is tired
already."
Jacqueline waited, but she stared at Olive reproachfully. "I did not
think you would come to try to make me go back home, Olive," Jack
exclaimed. "I thought you knew that when I said I intended to do a
thing, I would do it, in spite of all the Miss Ruth Drews and Mr. Jim
Colters in the world."
Olive knew that Jack was behaving abominably but she could not help
feeling the deepest admiration for her. To Olive, Jack's courage and
high spirit were glorious. Olive was so shy and frightened; she had
borne so much ill treatment from the time she was a little girl that her
nature was almost crushed and she could only contend with people when
she was driven to the last limit of patience. But when Olive made up her
mind to a step, she had the Indian's power of endurance.
"I only came to go along to the round-up with you, Jack," Olive replied
quietly.
Jack flushed. She was fairly sure of being able to bear her own burdens,
but she did hate getting other people into trouble. "You are awfully
sweet, Olive dear, but do go back home," Jack urged. "Jim and Cousin
Ruth will both be furiously angry with us and there is no reason why you
should have any of the blame. You know you will hate this old round-up
and be dreadfully frightened, and that you are only coming on my
account."
Olive shook her head. "Never mind, Jack," she answered, "I have come
with you now so I would have to get my share of the scolding and I am
not going to have you go to that place alone." Olive kept her horse just
behind Jack's and the two girls rode for a short time in silence. By
and by Jack sighed.
"What's the matter, Jack?" Olive asked quickly.
Jack laughed wickedly. "Oh, it is not that I have repented of my evil
deed, Olive," she returned. "It is only that I am so dreadfully hungry.
I sneaked off this morning without a bit of food. I know we can get some
lunch at the mess-wagons, or perhaps we may find some one we know at the
round-up. But the question with me is, how am I ever going to live until
then?"
Olive silently produced two rolls with slices of bacon between them.
"I stole them on my way to the stable," she announced happily. "I knew
you hadn't eaten anything and I didn't dare to wait."
The two girls ate their outdoor breakfast ravenously, for both were
enjoying their morning ride. It was cold, but they wore heavy sweaters
and corduroy riding skirts and besides, the swift ride had sent the warm
blood tingling through them. Jack was in brown and Olive in green, the
color Jack liked best for her. The sun had just risen and there was a
faint rose glow over the bare prairies, and in the distance the girls
spied a few coyotes racing along over the hard ground in search of their
breakfast, but for miles and miles there was no sign of human life.
Finally the girls rode up to a pair of tents set up within no great
distance of the plain chosen for the round-up. There was a fire near one
of them, but the girls saw no people about and decided that they must
have been used by the cowboys for their sleeping quarters at night.
Olive brought her pony closer to Jack's.
"Don't be nervous, Olive," said Jack reassuringly. "I expect the
round-up is a pretty wild business, but we won't go near enough to get
into trouble and you must be sure to stay close to me. I shall try to
see some one to ask about our cattle and then we will start right back
home. We will be sure to be at Rainbow Lodge by night."
Away off in the distance, the girls soon saw a great swirling cloud of
grey dust, rising over the yellow plain. They could distinguish an
enormous mass of moving objects and hear a far hollow roaring and
bellowing of men and animals. To the left, across a diagonal trail,
Jack saw a dark line of wagons at some distance from the round-up. She
knew they were the mess-wagons and carriages of the ranchmen, who came
over to superintend the branding of their cattle. If the ranchmen
happened to live near the scene of the round-up their wives and families
sometimes drove over to spend a few hours, but the women were careful
not to go near the frightened animals and returned home before night.
The two girls moved slowly along this trail.
Jack's eyes were dancing and her cheeks were glowing with excitement.
She dearly loved this typical western scene and its noise and savagery
did not frighten her. It was a part of the business of the cattlemen to
which she had always been accustomed. She was sorry of course that the
poor animals had to be burned with the brands of their owners, but since
the cattle ranged together through vast tracts of land, she knew of no
other way by which one ranchman could distinguish his cattle from
another's. Jack had been careful never to witness the branding, but she
had often seen the cowboys driving the herds across the plains.
But Olive did not feel so cheerful. The distant noise and the surging
crowd alarmed her. She wished that she and Jack were safe at home.
Coming at full speed down the trail toward them, the two girls spied two
cowboys wearing the full cowboy regalia, leather suits with fringed
trousers and immense sombrero hats, tied under their chins.
"Great Scott!" cried a familiar voice. "Here come Jack Ralston and her
Indian girl! What a place for a couple of girls to be alone!"
Jack's ears burned. She recognized Dan's tones but was not so much
abashed by meeting him, as she was by Frank Kent's astonished face. The
young English fellow's surprise was unmistakable.
"May I stay with you until your escort joins you, Miss Ralston?" Frank
asked immediately. "The men about here are pretty rough and if you
should happen to get too near the cattle it might be dangerous. I am
told they sometimes break out and start a stampede."
Jack kept her face turned away while Frank was speaking. She was
actually ashamed to return his friendly gaze. Frank had entirely
separated himself from Dan Norton, who was grinning scornfully at Olive
and Jack.
"Please don't worry about us, Mr. Kent," Jack said quietly. "We won't
get into danger. I don't exactly like to tell you, but we rode over to
the round-up by ourselves. You understand that we didn't mean to go near
the men or the cattle, but I thought we might find some one we knew near
the mess-wagons."
"Come on, Frank Kent," Dan Norton yelled impatiently. "Do you think I
have got time to waste while you talk to Jack Ralston all day? I told
Laura we would be back with them in half an hour. Hustle."
Frank Kent's face was no longer pale, as it had been when Jack had her
first meeting with him on the Ralston Ranch. It had been tanned and
reddened by his weeks in the sun and air of Wyoming, but that did not
account for the sudden color that flamed in it. "Be quiet, Dan, you
cad," he ordered sharply. "Go when you like, I shall stay with Miss
Ralston and her friend."
"I say, Miss Ralston," Frank suggested suddenly. "Mr. and Mrs. Simpson
are not very far away. They came over in their automobile, because Mrs.
Simpson thought maybe her sister and niece would like to see the cowboys
from the different ranches ride up to their work. Gee, they are
stunning-looking fellows, aren't they? I wish I were an artist, I would
like to paint them. Won't you come over to Mrs. Simpson with me? They
are well out of any danger and I know Mrs. Simpson would want you and
Miss Olive to join her."
An unregenerate twinkle returned to Jack's eyes. "To tell you the truth,
Mr. Kent, I would like awfully to go over and stay with Aunt Sallie.
Olive and I feel very strange here alone, but the fact is I deliberately
ran away from home to come to the round-up and Olive rode along to
protect me. I am ashamed to confess my sin to Mrs. Simpson."
"Nevertheless you had better come," Frank urged, and for once, Jack
yielded to another will.
It might have been wiser to have turned back home than to have faced
Aunt Sallie and her Eastern relatives, but Jack and Olive could not have
ridden to Rainbow Lodge without having something more to eat. Olive
already seemed exhausted. She was quite pale and scarcely lifted her
eyes. Jack knew that Olive hated to meet the members of the house party,
whom she had not seen since the time when she was rescued from being
Miss Laura Post's maid.
"Jack Ralston, the most unlikely place in the world is the most likely
place to find you," Mrs. Simpson exclaimed laughingly, as Frank and the
two newcomers rode up to her big touring car. "What in the world are you
girls doing here?"
"Shall I tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, Aunt Sallie?"
Jack demanded, smiling at Mrs. Simpson and bowing to Mrs. Post, Laura
and Mr. Simpson. Mrs. Post put up her lorgnettes, as though she were in
a box at the opera, to gaze at these extraordinary girls. Their clothes
were dusty and their hair showed the effects of their long, morning
ride, but turning, Mrs. Post beheld her beloved Laura swathed in a pale
pink motor veil and a long fur coat, and breathed a sigh of admiration
and relief. Surely her Laura was not in the least like these Western
tomboys!
Mrs. Simpson shrugged her handsome shoulders. "Well, you usually tell
the truth, whatever else you do and don't do, Jack," Mrs. Simpson
avowed. "I know you have run off, so just stay here and have lunch with
me."
Mrs. Simpson was talking to Jack, but she was really interested in
Olive. How the girl had changed, in the few weeks since she had seen
her: she had always been pretty, but she had lost her look of fear. Her
grace and quiet manner showed beyond a doubt that from some source she
had a heritage of gentle blood. Mr. and Mrs. Simpson shook hands with
Olive very kindly, but Mrs. Post and Laura utterly ignored her. Olive
showed no resentment, but Jack was exceedingly provoked.
The girls dismounted and climbed into the automobile. Now and then
groups of cowboys would pass by them, jingling their spurs and joking
with one another. Olive recognized a number of Indian boys, who had
lived in the Indian village, where she had been brought up. Among them,
she thought she saw old Laska's son and her supposed brother, Josef.
Mrs. Simpson was worried over Dan's return to their party. She and Mr.
Simpson, and indeed all the ranchmen in the neighborhood, now knew of
Mr. Daniel Norton's claim to the ownership of Rainbow Ranch, and his
efforts to get it away from the ranch girls. Most of the neighbors
deeply sympathized with the Ralston girls. Mrs. Simpson dreaded a
meeting between Jack and Dan. She knew they were open enemies and hated
each other very sincerely.
But when Dan joined them, Jack showed no trace of ill feeling. She had
thought matters over and decided that good manners compelled her to
behave as naturally as possible. She had no right to continue a quarrel,
when she and Dan were both guests.
Dan Norton was in no such humor. He was furious with Frank for having
brought Jack and Olive to Mrs. Simpson, and he was determined to get
even with Jack, if he possibly could, for Jim's treatment of him at
their last meeting.
Mrs. Simpson had an early lunch, since they meant to return to their
ranch in a short time. The tablecloth was spread out on the ground, and
unconsciously she placed Laura and Dan next Olive, who made no effort to
speak to them. But Dan whispered something to Laura, immediately they
got up and marching to the other end of the line of guests, sat down
directly opposite Jack and Frank.
Nobody had much to say. To save her life, Jack could not talk naturally
with Dan's sneering face across from her. Mr. and Mrs Simpson did their
best, but the luncheon party was a failure.
Dan was awaiting his opportunity.
"Jack," Mr. Simpson remarked innocently, "Jim Colter tells me that you
have recently been losing some of your cattle and young colts. He says
that they disappear from your ranch, and when they are seen again they
have the brand of another owner on them. That is a pretty bad business.
Have you any idea who is responsible for the trouble?"
Jack shook her head desperately. She was determined to say nothing that
could make any trouble. "No, Mr. Simpson, we don't know. That is, it
don't make any difference. Perhaps we are mistaken," she answered
lamely.
Mr. Simpson was puzzled by Jack's manner. There was an awkward silence.
Dan leaned over and whispered to Laura in a tone that could be
distinctly heard, not only by Jack and Frank, but by every member of the
small company. "I shouldn't think Jack Ralston would worry about losing
a few of her old cattle. She is going to lose something else pretty
soon, that is a good deal more important."
Laura snickered nervously. She caught sight of Jack's face.
Mrs. Simpson frowned and glanced hastily at Jack. Mr. Simpson's eyes
flashed and he too watched his young girl guest. Jack was distinctly
conscious that everybody in the party stared straight at her when Dan
ended his insulting speech.
Jack felt herself turn cold all over. Only her face was scorching hot.
Half a dozen angry retorts trembled on her lips. She started to speak,
but then she turned to Frank and said quietly. "Won't you tell me
something more about your home in England? I am awfully interested."
Mrs. Simpson breathed a sigh of relief. Only Laura seemed disappointed.
There was nothing she loved half so well as a scene and she fondly
believed Dan and Jack meant to treat her to one.
Ten minutes later, Jack went over to Mrs. Simpson. "Aunt Sallie, I think
Olive and I had better start back to the ranch now. You were awfully
good to give us our luncheon, but we ought to be at home by dark."
Mrs. Simpson caught Jack's hand. "You were a trump, Jack dear," she
whispered. "I would like to shake that red-headed boy if I had a chance
at him, but I believe somebody else will when you go."
Jack smiled, though her voice trembled a little. "I don't think Dan and
I ought to carry on our quarrels at your table, Aunt Sallie," she
answered. "But you know if he says anything like that to me again, I
should die if I didn't answer him back. So, good-bye."
Jacqueline bowed her farewells and she and Olive started toward their
ponies.
Frank Kent had a moment alone with Dan.
"Dan Norton, you have got to settle with me for that speech, you cub,"
he insisted, in a white passion of anger that startled his host.
Dan thought Frank too much of a gentleman to be willing to fight.
"All right," he rejoined calmly, "choose your own time."
Half way over to their horses, Frank joined Olive and Jack.
"I am going to ride back to your ranch with you, Miss Ralston," Frank
announced quietly.
Olive looked relieved, but Jack shook her head firmly.
"You are awfully good, Mr. Kent," Jack protested. "But really Olive and
I can go home perfectly well alone. We would rather not trouble you."
Frank assisted Olive on her broncho and then climbed into his own
saddle, Jack being already mounted.
"Mr. Simpson thinks I had better go home with you," Frank repeated
carelessly. "And I think you might let me act as an honorary escort,
because in case you don't I shall simply ride along behind you."