章节正文
the corral fences. And on the little windows of the barn
projected bobbing heads of bays and blacks and sorrels. When the
two men entered the immensebarnyard, from all around the din
increased. This welcome, however, was not seconded by the several
men and boys who vanished on sight.
Venters and Lassiter were turning toward the house when Jane
appeared in the lane leading a horse. In riding-skirt and blouse
she seemed to have lost some of her statuesque proportions, and
looked more like a girl rider than the mistress of Withersteen.
She was brightly smiling, and her greeting was warmly cordial.
"Good news," she announced. "I've been to the village. All is
quiet. I expected--I don't know what. But there's no excitement.
And Tull has ridden out on his way to Glaze."
"Tull gone?" inquired Venters, with surprise. He was wondering
what could have taken Tull away. Was it to avoid another meeting
with Lassiter that he went? Could it have any connection with the
probable nearness of Oldring and his gang?
"Gone, yes, thank goodness," replied Jane. "Now I'll have peace
for a while. Lassiter, I want you to see my horses. You are a
rider, and you must be a judge of horseflesh. Some of mine have
Arabian blood. My father got his best strain in Nevada from
Indians who claimed their horses were bred down from the original
stock left by the Spaniards."
"Well, ma'am, the one you've been ridin' takes my eye," said
Lassiter, as he walked round the racy, clean-limbed, and
fine-pointed roan.
"Where are the boys?" she asked, looking about. "Jerd, Paul,
where are you? Here, bring out the horses."
Lee sound of dropping bars inside the barn was the signal for the
horses to jerk their heads in the windows, to snort and stamp.
Then they came pounding out of the door, a file of thoroughbreds,
to plunge about the barnyard, heads and tails up, manes flying.
They halted afar off, squared away to look, came slowly forward
with whinnies for their mistress, and doubtful snorts for the
strangers and their horses.
"Come--come--come," called Jane, holding out her hands. "Why,
Bells-- Wrangle, where are your manners? Come, Black Star--come,
Night. Ah, you beauties! My racers of the sage!"
Only two came up to her; those she called Night and Black Star.
Venters never looked at them without delight. The first was soft
dead black, the other glittering black, and they were perfectly
matched in size, both being high and long-bodied, wide through
the shoulders, with lithe, powerful legs. That they were a
woman's pets showed in the gloss of skin, the fineness of mane.
It showed, too, in the light of big eyes and the gentle reach of
eagerness.
"I never seen their like," was Lassiter's encomium, "an' in my
day I've seen a sight of horses. Now, ma'am, if you was wantin'
to make a long an' fast ride across the sage--say to
elope--"
Lassiter ended there with dry humor, yet behind that was meaning.
Jane blushed and made arch eyes at him.
"Take care, Lassiter, I might think that a proposal," she
replied, gaily. "It's dangerous to propose elopement to a Mormon
woman. Well, I was expecting you. Now will be a good hour to show
you Milly Erne's grave. The day-riders have gone, and the
night-riders haven't come in. Bern, what do you make of that?
Need I worry? You know I have to be made to worry."
"Well, it's not usual for the night shift to ride in so late,"
replied Venters, slowly, and his glance sought Lassiter's.
"Cattle are usually quiet after dark. Still, I've known even a
coyote to stampede your white herd."
"I refuse to borrow trouble. Come," said Jane.
They mounted, and, with Jane in the lead, rode down the lane,
and, turning off into a cattle trail, proceeded westward.
Venters's dogs trotted behind them. On this side of the ranch the
outlook was different from that on the other; the immediate
foreground was rough and the sage more rugged and less colorful;
there were no dark-blue lines of canyons to hold the eye, nor any
uprearing rock walls. It was a long roll and slope into gray
obscurity. Soon Jane left the trail and rode into the sage, and
presently she dismounted and threw her bridle. The men did
likewise. Then, on foot, they followed her, coming out at length
on the rim of a low escarpment. She passed by several little
ridges of earth to halt before a faintly defined mound. It lay in
the shade of a sweeping sage-brush close to the edge of the
promontory; and a rider could have jumped his horse over it
without recognizing a grave.
"Here!"
She looked sad as she spoke, but she offered no explanation for
the neglect of an unmarked, uncared-for grave. There was a little
bunch of pale, sweet lavender daisies, doubtless planted there by
Jane.
"I only come here to remember and to pray," she said. "But I
leave no trail!"
A grave in the sage! How lonely this resting-place of Milly Erne!
The cottonwoods or the alfalfa fields were not in sight, nor was
there any rock or ridge or cedar to lend contrast to the
monotony. Gray slopes, tinging the purple, barren and wild, with
the wind waving the sage, swept away to the dim
horizon.
Lassiter looked at the grave and then out into space. At that
moment he seemed a figure of bronze.
Jane touched Venters's arm and led him back to the horses.
"Bern!" cried Jane, when they were out of hearing. "Suppose
Lassiter were Milly's husband--the father of that little girl
lost so long ago!"
"It might be, Jane. Let us ride on. If he wants to see us again
he'll come."
So they mounted and rode out to the cattle trail and began to
climb. From the height of the ridge, where they had started down,
Venters looked back. He did not see Lassiter, but his glance,
drawn irresistibly farther out on the gradual slope, caught sight
of a moving cloud of dust.
"Hello, a rider!"
"Yes, I see," said Jane.
"That fellow's riding hard. Jane, there's something wrong."
"Oh yes, there must be....How he rides!"
The horse disappeared in the sage, and then puffs of dust marked
his course.
"He's short-cut on us--he's making straight for the corrals."
Venters and Jane galloped their steeds and reined in at the
turning of the lane. This lane led down to the right of the
grove. Suddenly into its lower entrance flashed a bay horse. Then
Venters caught the fast rhythmic beat of pounding hoofs. Soon his
keen eye recognized the swing of the rider in his saddle.
"It's Judkins, your Gentile rider!" he cried. "Jane, when Judkins
rides like that it means hell!"
CHAPTER IV. DECEPTION PASS
The rider thundered up and almost threw his foam-flecked horse in
the sudden stop. He was a giant form, and with fearless eyes.
"Judkins, you're all bloody!" cried Jane, in affright. "Oh,
you've been shot!"
"Nothin' much Miss Withersteen. I got a nick in the shoulder. I'm
some wet an' the hoss's been throwin' lather, so all this ain't
blood."
"What's up?" queried Venters, sharply.
"Rustlers sloped off with the red herd."
"Where are my riders?" demanded Jane.
"Miss Withersteen, I was alone all night with the herd. At
daylight this mornin' the rustlers rode down. They began to shoot
at me on sight. They chased me hard an' far, burnin' powder all
the time, but I got away."
"Jud, they meant to kill you," declared Venters.
"Now I wonder," returned Judkins. "They wanted me bad. An' it
ain't regular for rustlers to waste time chasin' one rider."
"Thank heaven you got away," said Jane. "But my riders--where are
they?"
"I don't know. The night-riders weren't there last night when I
rode down, en' this mornin' I met no day-riders."
"Judkins! Bern, they've been set upon--killed by Oldring's men!"
"I don't think so," replied Venters, decidedly. "Jane, your
riders haven't gone out in the sage."
"Bern, what do you mean?" Jane Withersteen turned deathly pale.
"You remember what I said about the unseen hand?"
"Oh!...Impossible!"
"I hope so. But I fear--" Venters finished, with a shake of his
head.
"Bern, you're bitter; but that's only natural. We'll wait to see
what's happened to my riders. Judkins, come to the house with me.
Your wound must be attended to."
"Jane, I'll find out where Oldring drives the herd," vowed
Venters.
"No, no! Bern, don't risk it now--when the rustlers are in such
shooting mood."
"I'm going. Jud, how many cattle in that red herd?"
"Twenty-five hundred head."
"Whew! What on earth can Oldring do with so many cattle? Why, a
hundred head is a big steal. I've got to find out."
"Don't go," implored Jane.
"Bern, you want a hoss thet can run. Miss Withersteen, if it's
not too bold of me to advise, make him take a fast hoss or don't
let him go."
"Yes, yes, Judkins. He must ride a horse that can't be caught.
Which one--Black Star--Night?"
"Jane, I won't take either," said Venters, emphatically. "I
wouldn't risk losing one of your favorites."
"Wrangle, then?"
"Thet's the hoss," replied Judkins. "Wrangle can outrun Black
Star an' Night. You'd never believe it, Miss Withersteen, but I
know. Wrangle's the biggest en' fastest hoss on the sage."
"Oh no, Wrangle can't beat Black Star. But, Bern, take Wrangle if
you will go. Ask Jerd for anything you need. Oh, be watchful
careful.... God speed you."
She clasped his hand, turned quickly away, and went down a lane
with the rider.
Venters rode to the barn, and, leaping off, shouted for Jerd. The
boy came running. Venters sent him for meat, bread, and dried
fruits, to be packed in saddlebags. His own horse he turned loose
into the nearest corral. Then he went for Wrangle. The giant
sorrel had earned his name for a trait the opposite of
amiability. He came readily out of the barn, but once in the yard
he broke from Venters, and plunged about with ears laid back.
Venters had to rope him, and then he kicked down a section of
fence, stood on his hind legs, crashed down and fought the rope.
Jerd returned to lend a hand.
"Wrangle don't git enough work," said Jerd, as the big saddle
went on. "He's unruly when he's corralled, an' wants to run. Wait
till he smells the sage!"
"Jerd, this horse is an iron-jawed devil. I never straddled him
but once. Run? Say, he's swift as wind!"
When Venters's boot touched the stirrup the sorrel bolted, giving
him the rider's flying mount. The swing of this fiery horse
recalled to Venters days that were not really long past, when he
rode into the sage as the leader of Jane Withersteen's riders.
Wrangle pulled hard on a tight rein. He galloped out of the lane,
down the shady border of the grove, and hauled up at the
watering-trough, where he pranced and champed his bit. Venters
got off and filled his canteen while the horse drank. The dogs,
Ring and Whitie, came trotting up for their drink. Then Venters
remounted and turned Wrangle toward the sage.
projected bobbing heads of bays and blacks and sorrels. When the
two men entered the immensebarnyard, from all around the din
increased. This welcome, however, was not seconded by the several
men and boys who vanished on sight.
Venters and Lassiter were turning toward the house when Jane
appeared in the lane leading a horse. In riding-skirt and blouse
she seemed to have lost some of her statuesque proportions, and
looked more like a girl rider than the mistress of Withersteen.
She was brightly smiling, and her greeting was warmly cordial.
"Good news," she announced. "I've been to the village. All is
quiet. I expected--I don't know what. But there's no excitement.
And Tull has ridden out on his way to Glaze."
"Tull gone?" inquired Venters, with surprise. He was wondering
what could have taken Tull away. Was it to avoid another meeting
with Lassiter that he went? Could it have any connection with the
probable nearness of Oldring and his gang?
"Gone, yes, thank goodness," replied Jane. "Now I'll have peace
for a while. Lassiter, I want you to see my horses. You are a
rider, and you must be a judge of horseflesh. Some of mine have
Arabian blood. My father got his best strain in Nevada from
Indians who claimed their horses were bred down from the original
stock left by the Spaniards."
"Well, ma'am, the one you've been ridin' takes my eye," said
Lassiter, as he walked round the racy, clean-limbed, and
fine-pointed roan.
"Where are the boys?" she asked, looking about. "Jerd, Paul,
where are you? Here, bring out the horses."
Lee sound of dropping bars inside the barn was the signal for the
horses to jerk their heads in the windows, to snort and stamp.
Then they came pounding out of the door, a file of thoroughbreds,
to plunge about the barnyard, heads and tails up, manes flying.
They halted afar off, squared away to look, came slowly forward
with whinnies for their mistress, and doubtful snorts for the
strangers and their horses.
"Come--come--come," called Jane, holding out her hands. "Why,
Bells-- Wrangle, where are your manners? Come, Black Star--come,
Night. Ah, you beauties! My racers of the sage!"
Only two came up to her; those she called Night and Black Star.
Venters never looked at them without delight. The first was soft
dead black, the other glittering black, and they were perfectly
matched in size, both being high and long-bodied, wide through
the shoulders, with lithe, powerful legs. That they were a
woman's pets showed in the gloss of skin, the fineness of mane.
It showed, too, in the light of big eyes and the gentle reach of
eagerness.
"I never seen their like," was Lassiter's encomium, "an' in my
day I've seen a sight of horses. Now, ma'am, if you was wantin'
to make a long an' fast ride across the sage--say to
elope--"
Lassiter ended there with dry humor, yet behind that was meaning.
Jane blushed and made arch eyes at him.
"Take care, Lassiter, I might think that a proposal," she
replied, gaily. "It's dangerous to propose elopement to a Mormon
woman. Well, I was expecting you. Now will be a good hour to show
you Milly Erne's grave. The day-riders have gone, and the
night-riders haven't come in. Bern, what do you make of that?
Need I worry? You know I have to be made to worry."
"Well, it's not usual for the night shift to ride in so late,"
replied Venters, slowly, and his glance sought Lassiter's.
"Cattle are usually quiet after dark. Still, I've known even a
coyote to stampede your white herd."
"I refuse to borrow trouble. Come," said Jane.
They mounted, and, with Jane in the lead, rode down the lane,
and, turning off into a cattle trail, proceeded westward.
Venters's dogs trotted behind them. On this side of the ranch the
outlook was different from that on the other; the immediate
foreground was rough and the sage more rugged and less colorful;
there were no dark-blue lines of canyons to hold the eye, nor any
uprearing rock walls. It was a long roll and slope into gray
obscurity. Soon Jane left the trail and rode into the sage, and
presently she dismounted and threw her bridle. The men did
likewise. Then, on foot, they followed her, coming out at length
on the rim of a low escarpment. She passed by several little
ridges of earth to halt before a faintly defined mound. It lay in
the shade of a sweeping sage-brush close to the edge of the
promontory; and a rider could have jumped his horse over it
without recognizing a grave.
"Here!"
She looked sad as she spoke, but she offered no explanation for
the neglect of an unmarked, uncared-for grave. There was a little
bunch of pale, sweet lavender daisies, doubtless planted there by
Jane.
"I only come here to remember and to pray," she said. "But I
leave no trail!"
A grave in the sage! How lonely this resting-place of Milly Erne!
The cottonwoods or the alfalfa fields were not in sight, nor was
there any rock or ridge or cedar to lend contrast to the
monotony. Gray slopes, tinging the purple, barren and wild, with
the wind waving the sage, swept away to the dim
horizon.
Lassiter looked at the grave and then out into space. At that
moment he seemed a figure of bronze.
Jane touched Venters's arm and led him back to the horses.
"Bern!" cried Jane, when they were out of hearing. "Suppose
Lassiter were Milly's husband--the father of that little girl
lost so long ago!"
"It might be, Jane. Let us ride on. If he wants to see us again
he'll come."
So they mounted and rode out to the cattle trail and began to
climb. From the height of the ridge, where they had started down,
Venters looked back. He did not see Lassiter, but his glance,
drawn irresistibly farther out on the gradual slope, caught sight
of a moving cloud of dust.
"Hello, a rider!"
"Yes, I see," said Jane.
"That fellow's riding hard. Jane, there's something wrong."
"Oh yes, there must be....How he rides!"
The horse disappeared in the sage, and then puffs of dust marked
his course.
"He's short-cut on us--he's making straight for the corrals."
Venters and Jane galloped their steeds and reined in at the
turning of the lane. This lane led down to the right of the
grove. Suddenly into its lower entrance flashed a bay horse. Then
Venters caught the fast rhythmic beat of pounding hoofs. Soon his
keen eye recognized the swing of the rider in his saddle.
"It's Judkins, your Gentile rider!" he cried. "Jane, when Judkins
rides like that it means hell!"
CHAPTER IV. DECEPTION PASS
The rider thundered up and almost threw his foam-flecked horse in
the sudden stop. He was a giant form, and with fearless eyes.
"Judkins, you're all bloody!" cried Jane, in affright. "Oh,
you've been shot!"
"Nothin' much Miss Withersteen. I got a nick in the shoulder. I'm
some wet an' the hoss's been throwin' lather, so all this ain't
blood."
"What's up?" queried Venters, sharply.
"Rustlers sloped off with the red herd."
"Where are my riders?" demanded Jane.
"Miss Withersteen, I was alone all night with the herd. At
daylight this mornin' the rustlers rode down. They began to shoot
at me on sight. They chased me hard an' far, burnin' powder all
the time, but I got away."
"Jud, they meant to kill you," declared Venters.
"Now I wonder," returned Judkins. "They wanted me bad. An' it
ain't regular for rustlers to waste time chasin' one rider."
"Thank heaven you got away," said Jane. "But my riders--where are
they?"
"I don't know. The night-riders weren't there last night when I
rode down, en' this mornin' I met no day-riders."
"Judkins! Bern, they've been set upon--killed by Oldring's men!"
"I don't think so," replied Venters, decidedly. "Jane, your
riders haven't gone out in the sage."
"Bern, what do you mean?" Jane Withersteen turned deathly pale.
"You remember what I said about the unseen hand?"
"Oh!...Impossible!"
"I hope so. But I fear--" Venters finished, with a shake of his
head.
"Bern, you're bitter; but that's only natural. We'll wait to see
what's happened to my riders. Judkins, come to the house with me.
Your wound must be attended to."
"Jane, I'll find out where Oldring drives the herd," vowed
Venters.
"No, no! Bern, don't risk it now--when the rustlers are in such
shooting mood."
"I'm going. Jud, how many cattle in that red herd?"
"Twenty-five hundred head."
"Whew! What on earth can Oldring do with so many cattle? Why, a
hundred head is a big steal. I've got to find out."
"Don't go," implored Jane.
"Bern, you want a hoss thet can run. Miss Withersteen, if it's
not too bold of me to advise, make him take a fast hoss or don't
let him go."
"Yes, yes, Judkins. He must ride a horse that can't be caught.
Which one--Black Star--Night?"
"Jane, I won't take either," said Venters, emphatically. "I
wouldn't risk losing one of your favorites."
"Wrangle, then?"
"Thet's the hoss," replied Judkins. "Wrangle can outrun Black
Star an' Night. You'd never believe it, Miss Withersteen, but I
know. Wrangle's the biggest en' fastest hoss on the sage."
"Oh no, Wrangle can't beat Black Star. But, Bern, take Wrangle if
you will go. Ask Jerd for anything you need. Oh, be watchful
careful.... God speed you."
She clasped his hand, turned quickly away, and went down a lane
with the rider.
Venters rode to the barn, and, leaping off, shouted for Jerd. The
boy came running. Venters sent him for meat, bread, and dried
fruits, to be packed in saddlebags. His own horse he turned loose
into the nearest corral. Then he went for Wrangle. The giant
sorrel had earned his name for a trait the opposite of
amiability. He came readily out of the barn, but once in the yard
he broke from Venters, and plunged about with ears laid back.
Venters had to rope him, and then he kicked down a section of
fence, stood on his hind legs, crashed down and fought the rope.
Jerd returned to lend a hand.
"Wrangle don't git enough work," said Jerd, as the big saddle
went on. "He's unruly when he's corralled, an' wants to run. Wait
till he smells the sage!"
"Jerd, this horse is an iron-jawed devil. I never straddled him
but once. Run? Say, he's swift as wind!"
When Venters's boot touched the stirrup the sorrel bolted, giving
him the rider's flying mount. The swing of this fiery horse
recalled to Venters days that were not really long past, when he
rode into the sage as the leader of Jane Withersteen's riders.
Wrangle pulled hard on a tight rein. He galloped out of the lane,
down the shady border of the grove, and hauled up at the
watering-trough, where he pranced and champed his bit. Venters
got off and filled his canteen while the horse drank. The dogs,
Ring and Whitie, came trotting up for their drink. Then Venters
remounted and turned Wrangle toward the sage.
- immense [i´mens]
a.广大的，无限的 (初中英语单词) - welcome [´welkəm] a.受欢迎的；可喜的 (初中英语单词)
- mistress [´mistris] n.女主人；情妇；女能手 (初中英语单词)
- connection [kə´nekʃən] n.联系；关系；联运 (初中英语单词)
- plunge [plʌndʒ] v.插进 n.投入；冲击 (初中英语单词)
- explanation [,eksplə´neiʃən] n.解释；说明；辩解 (初中英语单词)
- neglect [ni´glekt] vt.&n.疏忽；忽视；忽略 (初中英语单词)
- doubtless [´dautlis] ad.无疑地；大概，多半 (初中英语单词)
- lonely [´ləunli] a.孤独的；无人烟的 (初中英语单词)
- contrast [´kɔntrɑ:st] n.对比 v.使对比(照) (初中英语单词)
- purple [´pə:pl] n.紫色 a.紫(红)的 (初中英语单词)
- barren [´bærən] a.贫瘠的；不生育的 (初中英语单词)
- height [hait] n.高度；顶点；卓越 (初中英语单词)
- advise [əd´vaiz] vt.忠告；建议；通知 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- readily [´redili] ad.乐意地；容易地 (初中英语单词)
- brightly [´braitli] ad.明亮地；聪明地 (高中英语单词)
- strain [strein] vt.拉紧 vi.拖 n.张力 (高中英语单词)
- nevada [ne´vɑ:də] n.内华达 (高中英语单词)
- doubtful [´dautful] a.怀疑的，可疑的 (高中英语单词)
- rugged [´rʌgid] a.不平的；粗犷的 (高中英语单词)
- bridle [´braidl] n.(马)笼头；束缚 (高中英语单词)
- faintly [´feintli] ad.微弱地，软弱无力的 (高中英语单词)
- sweeping [´swi:piŋ] a.掠过的 n.扫除；清除 (高中英语单词)
- lavender [´lævində] n.熏衣草；淡紫色 (高中英语单词)
- hearing [´hiəriŋ] n.听力；听证会；审讯 (高中英语单词)
- gradual [´grædʒuəl] a.逐渐的 (高中英语单词)
- fearless [´fiələs] a.不怕的，无畏的 (高中英语单词)
- decidedly [di´saididli] ad.坚决地，果断地 (高中英语单词)
- unseen [,ʌn´si:n] a.未看见的 (高中英语单词)
- ridden [´ridn] ride 的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- affright [ə´frait] vt.&n.恐吓，恐惧 (英语四级单词)
- stirrup [´stirəp] n.马蹬；镫形具 (英语四级单词)
- barnyard [´bɑ:njɑ:d] n.仓前空前 (英语六级单词)
- holding [´həuldiŋ] n.保持，固定，存储 (英语六级单词)
- wrangle [´ræŋgəl] v.争论，口角，争吵 (英语六级单词)
- fineness [´fainnis] n.美好；细微；优雅 (英语六级单词)
- alfalfa [æl´fælfə] n.苜蓿 (英语六级单词)
- deception [di´sepʃən] n.欺骗，诈骗；骗术 (英语六级单词)
- emphatically [im´fætikəli] ad.强调地；断然地 (英语六级单词)
- outrun [aut´rʌn] vt.追过；逃脱 (英语六级单词)
- unruly [ʌn´ru:li] a.不守规则的 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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