JUDY SPEAKS OUT
“Hello, little gal!” cried Bindloss, coming forward with extended
hand and smiling face.
“Hello! Why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”
“Why, Judy, don’t you know them?”
“No, but I’m goin’ to in ’bout a minute,” answered Judy, who shook
hands and commented on each member of the Overland party as Joe
Bindloss introduced her. “Some knock-down, ain’t it?” grinned Judy
after the introductions had been finished. “My Pap says you folks
ain’t no great scratch an’ that you ain’t here for no good. Pap says
that Old Joe Bindloss better build a corral ’bout his cattle or
he’ll lose ’em with all these new folks roamin’ ’round in the hills.
Be you a fine lady, or ain’t you?” demanded the mountain girl,
fixing her eyes on Elfreda Briggs. J. Elfreda flushed under the
scrutiny.
“No. I am just a plain, ordinary woman, a bachelor girl and—”
“In other words, an old maid, Miss Hornby,” Emma Dean explained.
“Cut the ‘Miss.’ My name’s Judy. What’s your handle?”
“Emma.”
“All right, Emma. Now the rest of you give me your handles, then
we’ll be down to cases,” whereupon the Overlanders dutifully gave
her their given names. “My gosh! What a lot of highfalutin’ names. I
should think they would keep you folks awake nights.”
The Overlanders laughed heartily and Judy joined in the laugh,
though with little idea what she was laughing at. The mountain girl
had, in her lifetime, seen but few persons who did not belong to
desert or mountain, and these bright-eyed girls were a revelation to
her, because, as she expressed it, “most all that kind is stuck up.”
If Judy was interested in her new acquaintances, they surely were
even more attracted to her. She was a splendid type, her dark,
handsome face unspoiled by the strenuous outdoor life she led, and
her figure possessing lines that would have been the envy of any
woman. Judy was only nineteen, so she said, but she looked more.
That she could ride, the Overlanders had the evidence of their own
eyes, and that she could shoot, was to be inferred from the
business-like looking revolver that swung at her hip.
“Not all are ‘stuck up,’” differed Grace laughingly. “We are not. If
we were we probably should not be here, roughing it, when we might
be at home taking our ease and getting fat.”
“Judy, you mustn’t take too seriously what Grace says. Remember, she
and Nora are here with their husbands, both old married women, here
because their husbands want to live part of the year in the open.
That’s the way women do when they love their husbands,” volunteered
Elfreda.
“A-huh! What are you doin’ here, then?”
“Because I love the open and love my friends who also enjoy it.”
“What’s love?” flung back the mountain girl.
“Why—I—I—Perhaps you had better ask Emma. Old maids are not
supposed to be authorities on that subject,” answered Miss Briggs,
her color rising.
“Love? Why, Judy, love is the most wonderful thing in the world,”
cried Emma dramatically, as Judy turned to her inquiringly. Emma’s
eyes were rolling and she registered extreme emotion, greatly to the
amusement of her companions.
“My gosh! Ain’t goin’ to have a fit, be ye?” exclaimed Judy, whereat
the Overland Riders shouted.
“Have you ever been in love?” interjected Nora.
“I don’t know, Nora. Once I seen a fellow in a play in a tent over
at Carrago, and he was some man, believe me. I jest sat there and
looked at him and my heart got so wiggly that I couldn’t do nothin’
with it at all. But thet wan’t nothin’ to what happened later in the
day when I met him on the street. He seen me lookin’ at him an’
smiled an’ bobbed his hat to me. My gosh! I near fainted. I sure
thought I was goin’ to die right there. Never had no such feelin’ in
all my life.”
“Yes?” urged the girls, doing their best to keep from laughing.
“Did you get acquainted with him?” asked Grace.
“No. I didn’t dast. My Pap was with me, but I went home and cried.
Can you beat it?”
“Oh, my dear, you _were_ in love. You surely _were_,” cried Emma.
“Was I?” wondered the mountain girl. “Was you ever that way, Emma?”
“Ever? Oh, help!” murmured Miss Briggs. “Judy, she is even making
love to these fine cowboys. Doesn’t that make you jealous?”
“Jealous? Of them rough-necks? Wal, I reckon not. I don’t reckon on
that kind of critter. I want a real man, I want to fly, to see
what’s on t’other side of them mountain ranges. I want to be a real
lady an’ know ’bout things. My gosh, how I want to be like that!
It’s right in here!” cried Judy, clapping a hand over her heart. “I
want to so much that it aches, it hurts like as if a rattler had
given me a jab there. I tried poulticin’ but it wan’t no good. Pap
said it was what I needed, but it wan’t, and here I am. What do you
reckon I ought to do?” finished Judy, passing a quick hand over her
eyes.
The Overlanders did not laugh. There was a tragic note in the voice
of the mountain girl that stirred their sympathies and moved them.
Grace slipped an arm about her.
“Judy, I wish you might come with us while we are riding the ranges.
Perhaps we might teach you things that would make you more contented
with your life,” said Grace, her voice full of sympathy. “Would you
like to do that?”
“Like it? I’d be so dum tickled that I couldn’t hold myself.”
“Then why not come?” urged Nora.
“I don’t dast. Pap would take it out of me right smart.”
“You don’t mean he would punish you—that he would lay hands on
you?” begged Elfreda.
“Him wallop me? Wal, I reckon not! I ain’t packin’ no gun for
nothin’.”
“Judy!” cried Nora. “You mustn’t say such things. Why not let us ask
your father to let you go with us?”
“Ask _him_?” Judy shook her head with emphasis. “You folks keep away
from Pap if you know what’s good for you. Pap’s got a grouch on most
of the time, and he ain’t particular ’bout who knows it. You keep
away from Pap, ’cause he don’t set much store by this here outfit.
He reckons as you ain’t got no business here, an’ if you come
foolin’ round he’ll chase you out. Would you go?” she demanded
abruptly.
“It has been tried on us on other occasions, but up to the present
time we have never gone until we were quite ready to do so,”
answered Miss Briggs.
“I wondered what you’d do, when I dreamed somethin’ ’bout you last
night—”
“Dreamed? Do you dream, Judy?” cried Emma, her face full of sudden
interest.
“I reckon I do. I dreamed ’bout that actor feller for a month.”
“Oh, isn’t that adorable!” bubbled Emma. “The imponderable quality
is working in you. Listen, dear. When you have another dream, you
come straight to me and I’ll make a psychoanalysis of it and tell
you what it means.”
“My gosh! If I could talk like that I’d be a real lady, wouldn’t I?
Where you goin’ from here?”
“We don’t know. All depends upon how my husband gets along with his
wounds. He was shot in a fight with the men who, we believe, stole
our ponies, but we hope that he will be able to ride in a short
time,” answered Nora.
“Ain’t that too bad? Gosh! If a fellow hurt my man I reckon I’d do
some shootin’ for myself,” observed Judy. “Who do you think rustled
them ponies?”
Tom Gray said they did not know, but that they proposed to find out,
and asked her if she or her father had any suspicion as to who the
rustlers were. Judy shook her head.
“I don’t know nothin’. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.
Say, Emma, what’s that word you got off jest now?”
“Imponderable,” intoned Stacy gloomily.
“I didn’t ask you, Mr. Fatty. Write it down, Emma, and I’ll try it
on Pap. I’ll bet there’ll be some fun. Wal, I reckon I’ll be hittin’
the trail for home. So long, Tom. Hippy, I hopes your laig gets
better right smart,” she called to the Overlander on the porch.
“’Bye, girls.”
“Come again soon, and as often as you can,” urged Grace.
“Sure I will. Mebby I can’t get back today, but I’ll try. Say, Emma,
I’m goin’ to practice that word on Butte. That’s my mustang. If he
stands for it I reckon Pap can,” finished Judy, starting slowly
towards her pony, arms linked with Grace and Elfreda. “Butte’s got a
temper somethin’ like Pap’s. I reckon he got it from Pap, too. Let’s
see. What’s that word? Im—impond’ble. All right. Jest watch me.”
Judy swung lightly into her saddle.
“G’wan, you impond’ble, dad-busted cayuse,” she shouted, touching
the animal lightly with a spur.
Butte responded instantly. Uttering a grunt, both hind heels went
into the air before Judy had succeeded in getting her feet into the
stirrups.
The mountain girl made a quick reach for the swinging stirrups and
missed, whereupon the mustang leaped clear of the ground, coming
down stiffly on all four feet, head down with hind quarters shooting
into the air. Judy was catapulted over his head and landed on her
back with a whack that should have knocked all the breath out of
her.
Tom Gray made a quick spring for the pony’s head and grabbed the
bridle. The pony fought him, but a firm grip on the animal’s nose
shut off his breathing and subdued him in a moment.
The girls ran to Judy just as she sat up. Judy was a little dazed,
but she grinned.
“Oh, you poor girl! You’re hurt,” cried Nora.
“Mebby I be, but I reckon the ground is hurt worse. Anyhow what
happened to me an’ the ground ain’t a flea-bite to what’s goin’ to
happen to Butte afore we gets home. Say, Emma! I don’t reckon as
I’ll say that word to Pap all of a sudden. I’m too dad-busted sore
now to have another fight on my hands tonight, and I’ll be sorer by
the time I gets home. I’m goin’ to ride him this time.”
Judy again flung herself into the saddle, and this time both feet
caught the stirrups. The mustang instantly threw himself into
another buck. The spur dug into him harder and harder and Judy’s
whip came down on his flank again and again. A leap carried them
clear of the Overland party, and for the next few moments they were
treated to the most spirited exhibition of horsemanship that they
had ever seen. Old Bindloss was shaking with laughter, and the
cowpunchers were howling with delight and firing their six-shooters
into the air.
“She’s got him!” cried Emma. “Oh, I wish I could ride like that.
There she comes!”
Judy, who was by now a full quarter of a mile out in the valley, had
whirled and was driving straight at them. On she came, the pony’s
efforts to unseat its rider growing less and less, as its speed
increased.
“Whoo—pe-e-e-e!” yelled Judy in her shrill, high-pitched voice as
she reached the Overlanders, and turning, tore off down the valley
where she was soon lost to sight in a cloud of dust.