章节正文
with his leather wrist-bands shining from use, and his boots worn
through on the stirrup side, he looked the rider of riders. He
wore two guns and carried a Winchester.
Jane greeted him with surprise and warmth, set meat and bread and
drink before him; and called Lassiter out to see him. The men
exchanged glances, and the meaning of Lassiter's keen inquiry and
Judkins's bold reply, both unspoken, was not lost upon Jane.
"Where's your hoss?" asked Lassiter, aloud.
"Left him down the slope," answered Judkins. "I footed it in a
ways, an' slept last night in the sage. I went to the place you
told me you 'moss always slept, but didn't strike you."
"I moved up some, near the spring, an' now I go there nights."
"Judkins--the white herd?" queried Jane, hurriedly.
"Miss Withersteen, I make proud to say I've not lost a steer. Fer
a good while after thet stampede Lassiter milled we hed no
trouble. Why, even the sage dogs left us. But it's begun
agin--thet flashin' of lights over ridge tips, an' queer puffin'
of smoke, en' then at night strange whistles en' noises. But the
herd's acted magnificent. An' my boys, say, Miss Withersteen,
they're only kids, but I ask no better riders. I got the laugh in
the village fer takin' them out. They're a wild lot, an' you know
boys hev more nerve than grown men, because they don't know what
danger is.
"I'm not denyin' there's danger. But they glory in it, an' mebbe
I like it myself--anyway, we'll stick. We're goin' to drive the
herd on the far side of the first break of Deception Pass.
There's a great round valley over there, an' no ridges or piles
of rocks to aid these stampeders. The rains are due. We'll hev
plenty of water fer a while. An' we can hold thet herd from
anybody except Oldrin'. I come in fer supplies. I'll pack a
couple of burros an' drive out after dark to-night."
"Judkins, take what you want from the store-room. Lassiter will
help you. I--I can't thank you enough...but--wait."
Jane went to the room that had once been her father's, and from a
secret chamber in the thick stone wall she took a bag of gold,
and, carrying it back to the court, she gave it to the rider.
"There, Judkins, and understand that I regard it as little for
your loyalty. Give what is fair to your boys, and keep the rest.
Hide it. Perhaps that would be wisest."
"Oh...Miss Withersteen!" ejaculated the rider. "I couldn't earn
so much in--in ten years. It's not right--I oughtn't take it."
"Judkins, you know I'm a rich woman. I tell you I've few faithful
friends. I've fallen upon evil days. God only knows what will
become of me and mine! So take the gold."
She smiled in understanding of his speechlessgratitude, and left
him with Lassiter. Presently she heard him speaking low at first,
then in louder accents emphasized by the thumping of his rifle on
the stones.
"As infernal a job as even you, Lassiter, ever heerd of."
"Why, son," was Lassiter's reply, "this breakin' of Miss
Withersteen may seem bad to you, but it ain't bad--yet. Some of
these wall-eyed fellers who look jest as if they was walkin' in
the shadow of Christ himself, right down the sunny road, now they
can think of things en' do things that are really hell-bent."
Jane covered her ears and ran to her own room, and there like
caged lioness she paced to and fro till the coming of little Fay
reversed her dark thoughts.
The following day, a warm and muggy one threatening rain awhile
Jane was resting in the court, a horseman clattered through he
grove and up to the hitching-rack. He leaped off and approached
Jane with the manner of a man determined to execute difficult
mission, yet fearful of its reception. In the gaunt, wiry figure
and the lean, brown face Jane recognized one of her Mormon
riders, Blake. It was he of whom Judkins had long since spoken.
Of all the riders ever in her employ Blake owed her the most, and
as he stepped before her, removing his hat and making manly
efforts to subdue his emotion, he showed that he remembered.
"Miss Withersteen, mother's dead," he said.
"Oh--Blake!" exclaimed Jane, and she could say no more.
"She died free from pain in the end, and she's buried--resting at
last, thank God!...I've come to ride for you again, if you'll
have me. Don't think I mentioned mother to get your sympathy.
When she was living and your riders quit, I had to also. I was
afraid of what might be done- -said to her....Miss Withersteen,
we can't talk of--of what's going on now--"
"Blake, do you know?"
"I know a great deal. You understand, my lips are shut. But
without explanation or excuse I offer my services. I'm a
Mormon--I hope a good one. But--there are some things!...It's no
use, Miss Withersteen, I can't say any more--what I'd like to.
But will you take me back?"
"Blake!...You know what it means?"
"I don't care. I'm sick of--of--I'll show you a Mormon who'll be
true to you!"
"But, Blake--how terribly you might suffer for that!"
"Maybe. Aren't you suffering now?"
"God knows indeed I am!"
"Miss Withersteen, it's a liberty on my part to speak so, but I
know you pretty well--know you'll never give in. I wouldn't if I
were you. And I--I must--Something makes me tell you the worst is
yet to come. That's all. I absolutely can't say more. Will you
take me back--let me ride for you--show everybody what I
mean?"
"Blake, it makes me happy to hear you. How my riders hurt me when
they quit!" Jane felt the hot tears well to her eyes and splash
down upon her hands. "I thought so much of them--tried so hard to
be good to them. And not one was true. You've made it easy to
forgive. Perhaps many of them really feel as you do, but dare not
return to me. Still, Blake, I hesitate to take you back. Yet I
want you so much."
"Do it, then. If you're going to make your life a lesson to
Mormon women, let me make mine a lesson to the men. Right is
right. I believe in you, and here's my life to prove it."
"You hint it may mean your life!" said Jane, breathless" target="_blank" title="a.屏息的">breathless and low.
"We won't speak of that. I want to come back. I want to do what
every rider aches in his secret heart to do for you....Miss
Withersteen, I hoped it'd not be necessary to tell you that my
mother on her deathbed told me to have courage. She knew how the
thing galled me--she told me to come back....Will you take me?"
"God bless you, Blake! Yes, I'll take you back. And will
you--will you accept gold from me?"
"Miss Withersteen!"
"I just gave Judkins a bag of gold. I'll give you one. If you
will not take it you must not come back. You might ride for me a
few months-- weeks--days till the storm breaks. Then you'd have
nothing, and be in disgrace with your people. We'll forearm you
against poverty, and me against endless regret. I'll give you
gold which you can hide--till some future time."
"Well, if it pleases you," replied Blake. "But you know I never
thought of pay. Now, Miss Withersteen, one thing more. I want to
see this man Lassiter. Is he here?"
"Yes, but, Blake--what--Need you see him? Why?" asked Jane,
instantly worried. "I can speak to him--tell him about you."
"That won't do. I want to--I've got to tell him myself. Where is
he?"
"Lassiter is with Mrs. Larkin. She is ill. I'll call him,"
answered Jane, and going to the door she softly called for the
rider. A faint, musicaljingle preceded his step--then his tall
form crossed the threshold.
"Lassiter, here's Blake, an old rider of mine. He has come back
to me and he wishes to speak to you."
Blake's brown face turned exceedingly pale.
"Yes, I had to speak to you," he said, swiftly. "My name's Blake.
I'm a Mormon and a rider. Lately I quit Miss Withersteen. I've
come to beg her to take me back. Now I don't know you; but I
know--what you are. So I've this to say to your face. It would
never occur to this woman to imagine--let alone suspect me to be
a spy. She couldn't think it might just be a low plot to come
here and shoot you in the back. Jane Withersteen hasn't that kind
of a mind....Well, I've not come for that. I want to help her--to
pull a bridle along with Judkins and--and you. The thing is--do
you believe me?"
"I reckon I do," replied Lassiter. How this slow, cool speech
contrasted with Blake's hot, impulsive words! "You might have
saved some of your breath. See here, Blake, cinch this in your
mind. Lassiter has met some square Mormons! An'
mebbe--"
"Blake," interrupted Jane, nervouslyanxious to terminate a
colloquy that she perceived was an ordeal for him. "Go at once
and fetch me a report of my horses."
"Miss Withersteen!...You mean the big drove--down in the
sage-cleared fields?"
"Of course," replied Jane. "My horses are all there, except the
blooded stock I keep here."
"Haven't you heard--then?"
"Heard? No! What's happened to them?"
"They're gone, Miss Withersteen, gone these ten days past. Dorn
told me, and I rode down to see for myself."
"Lassiter--did you know?" asked Jane, whirling to him.
"I reckon so....But what was the use to tell you?"
It was Lassiter turning away his face and Blake studying the
stone flags at his feet that brought Jane to the understanding of
what she betrayed. She strovedesperately, but she could not rise
immediately from such a blow.
"My horses! My horses! What's become of them?"
"Dorn said the riders report another drive by Oldring....And I
trailed the horses miles down the slope toward Deception Pass."
"My red herd's gone! My horses gone! The white herd will go next.
I can stand that. But if I lost Black Star and Night, it would be
like parting with my own flesh and blood. Lassiter--Blake--am I
in danger of losing my racers?"
"A rustler--or--or anybody stealin' hosses of yours would most of
all want the blacks," said Lassiter. His evasive reply was
affirmative enough. The other rider nodded gloomy
acquiescence.
"Oh! Oh!" Jane Withersteen choked, with violent utterance.
"Let me take charge of the blacks?" asked Blake. "One more rider
won't be any great help to Judkins. But I might hold Black Star
and Night, if you put such store on their value."
"Value! Blake, I love my racers. Besides, there's another reason
why I mustn't lose them. You go to the stables. Go with Jerd
every day when he runs the horses, and don't let them out of your
sight. If you would please me--win my gratitude, guard my black
racers."
When Blake had mounted and ridden out of the court Lassiter
regarded Jane with the smile that was becoming rarer as the days
sped by.
"'Pears to me, as Blake says, you do put some store on them
hosses. Now I ain't gainsayin' that the Arabians are the
handsomest hosses I ever seen. But Bells can beat Night, an' run
neck en' neck with Black Star."
"Lassiter, don't tease me now. I'm miserable--sick. Bells is
fast, but he can't stay with the blacks, and you know it. Only
Wrangle can do that."
"I'll bet that big raw-boned brute can more'n show his heels to
your black racers. Jane, out there in the sage, on a long chase,
Wrangle could kill your favorites."
"No, no," replied Jane, impatiently. "Lassiter, why do you say
that so often? I know you've teased me at times, and I believe
it's only kindness. You're always trying to keep my mind off
worry. But you mean more by this repeated mention of my racers?"
through on the stirrup side, he looked the rider of riders. He
wore two guns and carried a Winchester.
Jane greeted him with surprise and warmth, set meat and bread and
drink before him; and called Lassiter out to see him. The men
exchanged glances, and the meaning of Lassiter's keen inquiry and
Judkins's bold reply, both unspoken, was not lost upon Jane.
"Where's your hoss?" asked Lassiter, aloud.
"Left him down the slope," answered Judkins. "I footed it in a
ways, an' slept last night in the sage. I went to the place you
told me you 'moss always slept, but didn't strike you."
"I moved up some, near the spring, an' now I go there nights."
"Judkins--the white herd?" queried Jane, hurriedly.
"Miss Withersteen, I make proud to say I've not lost a steer. Fer
a good while after thet stampede Lassiter milled we hed no
trouble. Why, even the sage dogs left us. But it's begun
agin--thet flashin' of lights over ridge tips, an' queer puffin'
of smoke, en' then at night strange whistles en' noises. But the
herd's acted magnificent. An' my boys, say, Miss Withersteen,
they're only kids, but I ask no better riders. I got the laugh in
the village fer takin' them out. They're a wild lot, an' you know
boys hev more nerve than grown men, because they don't know what
danger is.
"I'm not denyin' there's danger. But they glory in it, an' mebbe
I like it myself--anyway, we'll stick. We're goin' to drive the
herd on the far side of the first break of Deception Pass.
There's a great round valley over there, an' no ridges or piles
of rocks to aid these stampeders. The rains are due. We'll hev
plenty of water fer a while. An' we can hold thet herd from
anybody except Oldrin'. I come in fer supplies. I'll pack a
couple of burros an' drive out after dark to-night."
"Judkins, take what you want from the store-room. Lassiter will
help you. I--I can't thank you enough...but--wait."
Jane went to the room that had once been her father's, and from a
secret chamber in the thick stone wall she took a bag of gold,
and, carrying it back to the court, she gave it to the rider.
"There, Judkins, and understand that I regard it as little for
your loyalty. Give what is fair to your boys, and keep the rest.
Hide it. Perhaps that would be wisest."
"Oh...Miss Withersteen!" ejaculated the rider. "I couldn't earn
so much in--in ten years. It's not right--I oughtn't take it."
"Judkins, you know I'm a rich woman. I tell you I've few faithful
friends. I've fallen upon evil days. God only knows what will
become of me and mine! So take the gold."
She smiled in understanding of his speechlessgratitude, and left
him with Lassiter. Presently she heard him speaking low at first,
then in louder accents emphasized by the thumping of his rifle on
the stones.
"As infernal a job as even you, Lassiter, ever heerd of."
"Why, son," was Lassiter's reply, "this breakin' of Miss
Withersteen may seem bad to you, but it ain't bad--yet. Some of
these wall-eyed fellers who look jest as if they was walkin' in
the shadow of Christ himself, right down the sunny road, now they
can think of things en' do things that are really hell-bent."
Jane covered her ears and ran to her own room, and there like
caged lioness she paced to and fro till the coming of little Fay
reversed her dark thoughts.
The following day, a warm and muggy one threatening rain awhile
Jane was resting in the court, a horseman clattered through he
grove and up to the hitching-rack. He leaped off and approached
Jane with the manner of a man determined to execute difficult
mission, yet fearful of its reception. In the gaunt, wiry figure
and the lean, brown face Jane recognized one of her Mormon
riders, Blake. It was he of whom Judkins had long since spoken.
Of all the riders ever in her employ Blake owed her the most, and
as he stepped before her, removing his hat and making manly
efforts to subdue his emotion, he showed that he remembered.
"Miss Withersteen, mother's dead," he said.
"Oh--Blake!" exclaimed Jane, and she could say no more.
"She died free from pain in the end, and she's buried--resting at
last, thank God!...I've come to ride for you again, if you'll
have me. Don't think I mentioned mother to get your sympathy.
When she was living and your riders quit, I had to also. I was
afraid of what might be done- -said to her....Miss Withersteen,
we can't talk of--of what's going on now--"
"Blake, do you know?"
"I know a great deal. You understand, my lips are shut. But
without explanation or excuse I offer my services. I'm a
Mormon--I hope a good one. But--there are some things!...It's no
use, Miss Withersteen, I can't say any more--what I'd like to.
But will you take me back?"
"Blake!...You know what it means?"
"I don't care. I'm sick of--of--I'll show you a Mormon who'll be
true to you!"
"But, Blake--how terribly you might suffer for that!"
"Maybe. Aren't you suffering now?"
"God knows indeed I am!"
"Miss Withersteen, it's a liberty on my part to speak so, but I
know you pretty well--know you'll never give in. I wouldn't if I
were you. And I--I must--Something makes me tell you the worst is
yet to come. That's all. I absolutely can't say more. Will you
take me back--let me ride for you--show everybody what I
mean?"
"Blake, it makes me happy to hear you. How my riders hurt me when
they quit!" Jane felt the hot tears well to her eyes and splash
down upon her hands. "I thought so much of them--tried so hard to
be good to them. And not one was true. You've made it easy to
forgive. Perhaps many of them really feel as you do, but dare not
return to me. Still, Blake, I hesitate to take you back. Yet I
want you so much."
"Do it, then. If you're going to make your life a lesson to
Mormon women, let me make mine a lesson to the men. Right is
right. I believe in you, and here's my life to prove it."
"You hint it may mean your life!" said Jane, breathless" target="_blank" title="a.屏息的">breathless and low.
"We won't speak of that. I want to come back. I want to do what
every rider aches in his secret heart to do for you....Miss
Withersteen, I hoped it'd not be necessary to tell you that my
mother on her deathbed told me to have courage. She knew how the
thing galled me--she told me to come back....Will you take me?"
"God bless you, Blake! Yes, I'll take you back. And will
you--will you accept gold from me?"
"Miss Withersteen!"
"I just gave Judkins a bag of gold. I'll give you one. If you
will not take it you must not come back. You might ride for me a
few months-- weeks--days till the storm breaks. Then you'd have
nothing, and be in disgrace with your people. We'll forearm you
against poverty, and me against endless regret. I'll give you
gold which you can hide--till some future time."
"Well, if it pleases you," replied Blake. "But you know I never
thought of pay. Now, Miss Withersteen, one thing more. I want to
see this man Lassiter. Is he here?"
"Yes, but, Blake--what--Need you see him? Why?" asked Jane,
instantly worried. "I can speak to him--tell him about you."
"That won't do. I want to--I've got to tell him myself. Where is
he?"
"Lassiter is with Mrs. Larkin. She is ill. I'll call him,"
answered Jane, and going to the door she softly called for the
rider. A faint, musicaljingle preceded his step--then his tall
form crossed the threshold.
"Lassiter, here's Blake, an old rider of mine. He has come back
to me and he wishes to speak to you."
Blake's brown face turned exceedingly pale.
"Yes, I had to speak to you," he said, swiftly. "My name's Blake.
I'm a Mormon and a rider. Lately I quit Miss Withersteen. I've
come to beg her to take me back. Now I don't know you; but I
know--what you are. So I've this to say to your face. It would
never occur to this woman to imagine--let alone suspect me to be
a spy. She couldn't think it might just be a low plot to come
here and shoot you in the back. Jane Withersteen hasn't that kind
of a mind....Well, I've not come for that. I want to help her--to
pull a bridle along with Judkins and--and you. The thing is--do
you believe me?"
"I reckon I do," replied Lassiter. How this slow, cool speech
contrasted with Blake's hot, impulsive words! "You might have
saved some of your breath. See here, Blake, cinch this in your
mind. Lassiter has met some square Mormons! An'
mebbe--"
"Blake," interrupted Jane, nervouslyanxious to terminate a
colloquy that she perceived was an ordeal for him. "Go at once
and fetch me a report of my horses."
"Miss Withersteen!...You mean the big drove--down in the
sage-cleared fields?"
"Of course," replied Jane. "My horses are all there, except the
blooded stock I keep here."
"Haven't you heard--then?"
"Heard? No! What's happened to them?"
"They're gone, Miss Withersteen, gone these ten days past. Dorn
told me, and I rode down to see for myself."
"Lassiter--did you know?" asked Jane, whirling to him.
"I reckon so....But what was the use to tell you?"
It was Lassiter turning away his face and Blake studying the
stone flags at his feet that brought Jane to the understanding of
what she betrayed. She strovedesperately, but she could not rise
immediately from such a blow.
"My horses! My horses! What's become of them?"
"Dorn said the riders report another drive by Oldring....And I
trailed the horses miles down the slope toward Deception Pass."
"My red herd's gone! My horses gone! The white herd will go next.
I can stand that. But if I lost Black Star and Night, it would be
like parting with my own flesh and blood. Lassiter--Blake--am I
in danger of losing my racers?"
"A rustler--or--or anybody stealin' hosses of yours would most of
all want the blacks," said Lassiter. His evasive reply was
affirmative enough. The other rider nodded gloomy
acquiescence.
"Oh! Oh!" Jane Withersteen choked, with violent utterance.
"Let me take charge of the blacks?" asked Blake. "One more rider
won't be any great help to Judkins. But I might hold Black Star
and Night, if you put such store on their value."
"Value! Blake, I love my racers. Besides, there's another reason
why I mustn't lose them. You go to the stables. Go with Jerd
every day when he runs the horses, and don't let them out of your
sight. If you would please me--win my gratitude, guard my black
racers."
When Blake had mounted and ridden out of the court Lassiter
regarded Jane with the smile that was becoming rarer as the days
sped by.
"'Pears to me, as Blake says, you do put some store on them
hosses. Now I ain't gainsayin' that the Arabians are the
handsomest hosses I ever seen. But Bells can beat Night, an' run
neck en' neck with Black Star."
"Lassiter, don't tease me now. I'm miserable--sick. Bells is
fast, but he can't stay with the blacks, and you know it. Only
Wrangle can do that."
"I'll bet that big raw-boned brute can more'n show his heels to
your black racers. Jane, out there in the sage, on a long chase,
Wrangle could kill your favorites."
"No, no," replied Jane, impatiently. "Lassiter, why do you say
that so often? I know you've teased me at times, and I believe
it's only kindness. You're always trying to keep my mind off
worry. But you mean more by this repeated mention of my racers?"
- warmth [wɔ:mθ]
n.温暖；热情；激动 (初中英语单词) - inquiry [in´kwaiəri] n.询问；质询；调查 (初中英语单词)
- magnificent [mæg´nifisənt] a.壮丽的；豪华的 (初中英语单词)
- valley [´væli] n.谷；河谷；流域 (初中英语单词)
- gratitude [´grætitju:d] n.感激，感谢 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- christ [kraist] n.基督 int.天啊! (初中英语单词)
- execute [´eksikju:t] vt.执行；表演；演奏 (初中英语单词)
- fearful [´fiəfəl] a.可怕的；担心的 (初中英语单词)
- emotion [i´məuʃən] n.感情；情绪；激动 (初中英语单词)
- explanation [,eksplə´neiʃən] n.解释；说明；辩解 (初中英语单词)
- terribly [´terəbli] ad.可怕地 (初中英语单词)
- suffering [´sʌfəriŋ] n.痛苦；灾害 (初中英语单词)
- absolutely [´æbsəlu:tli] ad.绝对地；确实 (初中英语单词)
- hesitate [´heziteit] vi.犹豫，踌躇 (初中英语单词)
- disgrace [dis´greis] n.耻辱 vt.玷辱；贬黜 (初中英语单词)
- poverty [´pɔvəti] n.贫穷(乏，瘠)；不足 (初中英语单词)
- softly [´sɔftli] ad.软化地；柔和地 (初中英语单词)
- musical [´mju:zikəl] a.音乐的；悦耳的 (初中英语单词)
- swiftly [´swiftli] ad.迅速地，敏捷地 (初中英语单词)
- lately [´leitli] ad.近来，不久前 (初中英语单词)
- suspect [´sʌspekt, sə´spekt] v.怀疑；觉得 n.嫌疑犯 (初中英语单词)
- reckon [´rekən] v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词)
- breath [breθ] n.呼吸；气息 (初中英语单词)
- anxious [´æŋkʃəs] a.担忧的；渴望的 (初中英语单词)
- violent [´vaiələnt] a.强暴的；猛烈的 (初中英语单词)
- charge [tʃɑ:dʒ] v.收费；冲锋 n.费用 (初中英语单词)
- chamber [´tʃeimbə] n.房间；议院；会议室 (高中英语单词)
- loyalty [´lɔiəlti] n.忠诚；忠心；忠实 (高中英语单词)
- horseman [´hɔ:smən] n.骑手，马术师 (高中英语单词)
- reception [ri´sepʃən] n.接待；欢迎；招待会 (高中英语单词)
- subdue [səb´dju:] vt.征服；克制；减弱 (高中英语单词)
- breathless [´breθlis] a.屏息的 (高中英语单词)
- exceedingly [ik´si:diŋli] ad.非常地，极度地 (高中英语单词)
- bridle [´braidl] n.(马)笼头；束缚 (高中英语单词)
- strove [strəuv] strive的过去式 (高中英语单词)
- desperately [´despəritli] ad.绝望地；拼命地 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- stirrup [´stirəp] n.马蹬；镫形具 (英语四级单词)
- speechless [´spi:tʃləs] a.说不出话的 (英语四级单词)
- jingle [´dʒiŋgəl] v.(使)叮当响 (英语四级单词)
- nervously [´nə:vəsli] ad.神经质地；胆怯地 (英语四级单词)
- terminate [´tə:mineit] v.终止，结束 (英语四级单词)
- parting [´pɑ:tiŋ] a.&n.分离(的) (英语四级单词)
- ridden [´ridn] ride 的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- impatiently [im´peiʃəntli] ad.不耐烦地，急躁地 (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- deception [di´sepʃən] n.欺骗，诈骗；骗术 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- infernal [in´fə:nəl] a.地狱的，恶魔似的 (英语六级单词)
- impulsive [im´pʌlsiv] a.易冲动的 (英语六级单词)
- ordeal [ɔ:´di:l] n.严峻考验；折磨 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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