THE RANCH AT 
 THE WOLVERINE 
 
 B.M. BOWER,
 
 THE RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE
 
 It was a long pistol shot and he was afraid that he might miss. 
 FRONTISPIECE. See Page 205.
 
 THE RANCH AT 
 THE WOLVERINE 
 
 By B. M BOWER 
 
 Author of "The Lonesome Land," Etc. 
 
 With Frontispiece by 
 DOUGLAS DUER 
 
 A. L, BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS 
 
 114-120 East Twenty-third Street - New York 
 
 Published by Arrangement with Little, Brown and Company
 
 Copyright, 191}, 
 BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPAHY. 
 
 A II rights reserved
 
 URL 
 SRLF 
 
 4 1737 
 
 i. 
 
 ii. 
 
 in. 
 
 IV. 
 
 v. 
 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IX. 
 
 X. 
 
 XI. 
 
 XII. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 XV. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 LET Us START AT THE BEGINNING ... 1 
 
 A STORM AND A STRANGER 21 
 
 A BOOK, A BANNOCK, AND A BED ... 32 
 " OLD DAME FORTUNE'S USED ME FOR A FOOT- 
 BALL" 46 
 
 MARTHY BURIES HER DEAD AND GREETS HER 
 
 NEPHEW 59 
 
 A MATTER OP TWELVE MONTHS OR So . . 7S 
 
 WARD HUNTS WOLVES 97 
 
 HELP FOR THE Cow BUSINESS . . . .111 
 WHEN EMOTIONS ARE BOTTLED . . . .120 
 
 THIS PAL BUSINESS 133 
 
 WAS IT THE DOG? . 150 
 
 THE LITTLE DEVILS OF 'DOUBT .... 
 THE CORRAL IN THE CANYON .... 
 
 EACH IN His OWN TRAIL 
 
 " You WON'T GET ME AGAIN " . 
 
 " I'M GOING TO TAKE You OUT AND HANG 
 
 You" 
 
 "So -LONG, BUCK!" 
 
 FORTUNE KICKS AGAIN 
 
 THE BRAVE BUCKAROO 
 
 " WE BEEN SORRY FOR You " . . 
 v 
 
 164 
 180 
 194 
 20i
 
 VI 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 XXI. SEVEN LEAN KINE 
 
 XXII. THE BILLY OF HER . 
 
 XXIII. BILLY LOUISE GETS A SURPRISE 
 
 XXIV. THE HOOKIN' - COUGH MAN . 
 XXV. THE WOLF JOKB .... 
 
 XXVI. "HM-MM!" . . . . 
 
 XXVII. MARTHY ...... 
 
 XXVUI. ALL RIGHT AND COMFY 
 
 PAGE 
 
 266 
 275 
 286 
 293 
 306 
 316 
 327 
 342
 
 The Ranch at the Wolverine 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 LET US START AT THE BEGINNING 
 
 FOUR trail-worn oxen, their necks bowed to the 
 yoke of patient servitude, should really begin 
 this story. But to follow the trail they made would 
 take several chapters which you certainly would skip 
 unless you like to hear the tale of how the wilderness 
 was tamed and can thrill at the stern history of those 
 who did the taming while they fought to keep their 
 stomachs fairly well filled with food a,nd their hard- 
 muscled bodies fit for the fray. 
 
 There was a woman, low-browed, uncombed, harsh of 
 voice and speech and nature, who drove the four oxen 
 forward over lava rock and rough prairie and the 
 scanty sage. I might tell you a great deal about Marthy, 
 who plodded stolidly across the desert and the low-lying 
 hills along the Blackfoot; and of her weak-souled, shift- 
 less husband whom she called Jase, when she did not 
 call him worse. 
 
 They were the pioneers whose lurching wagon first 
 forded the singing Wolverine stream just where it 
 greens the tiny valley and then slips between huge lava- 
 rock ledges to join the larger stream. Jase would have 
 stopped there and called home the sheltered little green
 
 2 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 spot in the gray barrenness. But Marthy went on, up 
 the farther hill and across the upland, another full 
 day's journey with the sweating oxen. 
 
 They camped that night on another little, singing 
 stream, in another little valley, which was not so level 
 or so green or so wholly pleasing to the eye. And that 
 night two of the oxen, impelled by a surer instinct 
 than their human owners, strayed away down a narrow, 
 winding gorge and so discovered the Cove and feasted 
 upon its rich grasses. It was Marthy who went after 
 them and who recognized the little, hidden Eden as 
 the place of her dreams supposing she ever had 
 dreams. So Marthy and Jase and the four oxen took 
 possession, and with much labor and many hard years 
 for the woman, and with the same number of years 
 and as little labor as he could manage on the man's 
 part, they tamed the Cove and made it a beauty spot 
 in that wild land. A beauty spot, though their lives 
 held nothing but treadmill toil and harsh words and a 
 mental horizon narrowed almost to the limits of the 
 grim, gray, rock wall that surrounded them. 
 
 Another sturdy-souled couple came afterwards and 
 saw the Wolverine and made for themselves a home 
 upon its banks. And in the rough little log cabin was 
 born the girl-child I want you to meet; a girl-child 
 when she should have been a boy to meet her father's 
 need and great desire; a girl-child whose very name 
 was a compromise between the parents. For they 
 called her Billy for sake of the boy her father wanted, 
 and Louise for the girl her mother had longed for to 
 lighten that terrible loneliness which the far frontier 
 brings to the women who brave its stem emptiness.
 
 START AT THE BEGINNING 3 
 
 Do you like children? In other words, are you 
 human? Then I want you to meet -Billy Louise when 
 she was ten and had lived all her life among the rocks 
 and the sage and the stunted cedars and huge, gray hills 
 of Idaho. Meet her with her pin'k sunbonnet hanging 
 down the Back of her neck and her big eyes taking in 
 the squalidness of Marthy's crude kitchen in the Cove, 
 and her terrible directness of speech hitting squarely 
 the things she saw that were different from her own 
 immaculate home. Of course, if you don't care for 
 children, you may skip a chapter and meet her later 
 when she was eighteen but I really wish you would 
 consent to know her at ten. 
 
 " Mommie makes cookies with a raising in the mid- 
 dle. She gives me two sometimes when the Bill of me 
 has been workin' like the deuce with dad ; one for 
 Billy and one for Louise. When I 'ni twelve, Mommie 's 
 goin' to let the Louise of me make cookies all myself 
 and put a raising on top. I '11 put two on top of one 
 and bring it over for you, Marthy. And " Billy 
 Louise was terribly outspoken at times "I '11 put 
 four raisings on another one for Jase, 'cause he don't 
 have any nice times with you. Don't you ever make 
 cookies with raisings on 'em, Marthy ? I 'm hungry as 
 a coyote and I ain't used to eating just bread and 
 the kinda butter you have. Mom says you don't work 
 it enough. She says you are too scared of water, and 
 the buttermilk ain't all worked out, so that 's why it 
 tastes so funny. Does Jase like that kind of butter, 
 Marthy?" 
 
 " If your mother had to do the outside work as well
 
 4 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 as the inside, mebbe she would n't work her butter so 
 awful much, either. I dunno whether Jase likes it or 
 not. He eats it," Marthy stated grimly. 
 
 Billy Louise sighed. " Well, of course he 's awful 
 lazy. Daddy says so. I guess I won't put but one 
 raising on Jase's cookie when I'm twelve. Has Jase 
 gone fishing again, Marthy ? " 
 
 A gleam of satisfaction brightened Marthy 's hard, 
 blue eyes, " No, he ain't. He 's in the root suller. 
 You want some bread and some nice, new honey, Billy 
 Louise? I jest took it outa the hive this morning. 
 When you go home, I '11 send some to your maw if you 
 can carry it." 
 
 " Sure ! I can carry anything that 's good. If you 
 put it on thick, so I can't taste the bread, I '11 eat it. 
 Say, you like me, don't you, Marthy ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Marthy, turning her back on the slim, 
 wide-eyed girl, " I like yuh, Billy Louise." 
 
 " You sound like you wish you did n't," Billy Louise 
 remarked. Even at ten Billy Louise was keenly sen- 
 sitive to tones and glances and that intangible thing 
 we call atmosphere. " Are you sorry you like me ? " 
 
 " No-o, I ain't sorry. A person 's got to like some- 
 thing that 's alive and human, or " Marthy was 
 clumsy with words, and she was always coming to the 
 barrier between her powers of expression and the 
 thoughts that were prisoned and dumb. " Here 's your 
 bread 'n' honey." 
 
 " What makes you sound that way, Marthy ? You 
 sound like you had tears inside, and they could n't get 
 out your eyes. Are you sad? Did you ever have a 
 little girl, Marthy?"
 
 " What makes you ask that ? " Marthy sat heavily 
 down upon a box beside the rough kitchen table and 
 looked at Billy Louise queerly, as if she were half 
 afraid of her. 
 
 " I dunno but that 's the way mommie sounds 
 when she says something about angel-brother. Did 
 you ever " 
 
 " Billy Louise, I 'm going to tell you this oncet, and 
 then I don't want you to ast me any more questions, 
 nor talk about it. You 're the queerest young one I 
 ever seen, but you don't hurt folks on purpose I 've 
 learnt that much about yuh." Marthy half rose from 
 the box, and with her dingy, patched apron shooed an 
 investigative hen out of the doorway. She knew that 
 Billy Louise was regarding her fixedly over the huge, 
 uneven slice of bread and honey, and she felt vaguely 
 that a child's grave, inquiring eyes may be the hardest 
 of all eyes to meet. 
 
 " I never meant " 
 
 " I know yuh never, Billy Louise. Kow don't tell your 
 maw this. Long ago long before your maw ever found 
 you, or your paw ever found your ranch on the Wolver- 
 ine, I had a little girl, 'bout like you. She was a purty 
 child her hair was like silk, and her eyes was blue, 
 and we was Mormons, and we lived down clost to 
 Salt Lake. And I seen so much misery amongst the 
 women-folks you can't understand that, but mebby 
 you will when you grow up. Anyway, when little 
 Minervy kep' growin' purtyer and sweeter, I couldn't 
 stand it to think of her growin' up and bein' a Mormon's 
 wife. I seen so many purty girls . . . So I made up my 
 mind we 'd move away off somewheree, where Minervy
 
 6 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 could grow up jest as sweet and purty as she was a 
 mind to, and not have to suffer fer her sweetness and 
 her purtyness. When you grow up, Billy Louise, 
 you '11 know what I mean. So me and Jase packed 
 up we kinda had to do it on the sly, on account uh 
 the bishops and we struck out with a four-ox team. 
 
 " We kep' a-goin' and kep' a-goin', fer I was scared 
 to settle too clost. I seen how they keep spreadin' out 
 all the time, and I wanted to git so fur away they 
 would n't ketch up. And we got into bad country, 
 where there wasn't no water skurcely. We swung too 
 fur north, and got into the desert back there. And 
 over next them three buttes little Minervy took sick. 
 We tried to git outa the desert we headed over this 
 way. But before we got to Snake river she died, and 
 I had to leave 'er buried back there. We come on. I 
 hated the church worse than ever, and I wanted 
 to git clear away from 'em. Why, Billy Louise, we 
 camped one night by the Wolverine, right about where 
 your paw 's got his big corral ! We did n't stay there, 
 because it was an Injun camping-ground then, and they 
 was n't no use getting mixed up in no fuss, first thing. 
 In them days the Injuns wasn't so peaceable as they 
 be now. So we come on here and settled in the Cove. 
 
 " And so I like yuh," said Marthy, in a tone that 
 was half defiance, "because I can't help likin' yuh. 
 You 're growin' up sweet and purty, jest like I wanted 
 my little Minervy to grow up. In some ways you re- 
 mind me of her, only she was quieter and did n't take 
 so much notice of things a young one ain't s'posed to 
 notice. Now l^don't want you askin' no more questions 
 about her, 'cause I ain't going to talk about it ag*in;
 
 START AT THE BEGINNING 7 
 
 and if yuh pester me, I ''11 send yuh home and tell your 
 maw to keep yuh there. If you're the nice girl I 
 think yuh be, you '11 be good to Marthy and not talk 
 about " 
 
 Billy Louise opened her eyes still wider, and licked 
 the honey off one whole corner of the slice without 
 really tasting anything. Marthy's square, uncompro- 
 mising chin was actually quivering. Billy Louise was 
 stricken dumb by the spectacle. She wanted to go and 
 put her arms around Marthy's neck and kiss her; only 
 Marthy's neck had a hairy mole, and there was no part 
 of her face which looked in the least degree kissable. 
 Still, Billy Louise felt herself all hot inside with re- 
 morse and sympathy and affection. Physical contact 
 being impossible. because of her fastidious instincts, and 
 speech upon the subject being so sternly forbidden, 
 Billy Louise continued to lick honey and stare in fas- 
 cinated silence. 
 
 " I '11 wash the dishes for you, Marthy," she offered 
 irrelevantly at last, as a supreme sacrifice upon the 
 altar of sympathy. When that failed to stop the slow 
 procession of tears that was traveling down the furrows 
 of Marthy's cheeks, she added ingratiatingly: " I '11 put 
 six raisings on the cookie I 'in going to make for you.'' 
 
 Whereupon Marthy did an unprecedented, an utterly 
 amazing thing. She got up and gathered Billy Louise 
 into her arms so unexpectedly that Billy Louise in- 
 advertently buried her nose in the honey she had not 
 yet licked off the bread. Marthy held her close pressed 
 to her big, flabby bosom and wept into her hair in a 
 queer, whimpering way that somehow made Billy 
 Louise think of a hurt do<j. It was onlv for a minute
 
 8 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 that Marthy did this; she stopped almost as suddenly 
 as she began and went outside, wiping her eyes and 
 her nose impartially upon her dirty apron. 
 
 Billy Louise sat paralyzed with the mixture of un- 
 usual emotions that assailed her. She was exceedingly 
 sticky and uncomfortable from honey and tears, and 
 she shivered with repugnance at the odor of Marthy '9 
 unbathed person. She was astonished at the outburst 
 from phlegmatic Marthy Meilkc, and her pity was now 
 alloyed with her promise to wash all those dirty dishes. 
 Billy Louise felt that she had been a trifle hasty in 
 making promises. There was not a drop of water in 
 the house nor a bit of wood, and Billy Louise knew 
 perfectly well that the dishpan would have a greasy, 
 unpleasant feeling under her fastidious little fingers. 
 
 She sighed heavily. " Well, I s'pose I might just as 
 well get to work at 'em," she said aloud, as was her 
 habit being a child who had no playmates. " I hate 
 to dread a thing I hate." 
 
 She looked at the messy slice of sour bread and 
 threw it out to the speckled hen that had returned and 
 was standing with one foot lifted tentatively ready 
 for a forward step if the fates seemed kind and was 
 regarding Billy Louise fixedly with one yellow eye. 
 " Take it and go ! " cried the donor, impatient of the 
 scrutiny. She picked up the wooden pail and went 
 down to the creek behind the house, by a pathway bor- 
 dered thickly with budding rosebushes and tall lilacs. 
 
 Billy Louise first of all washed her face slowly and 
 
 with a methodic thoroughness which characterized her 
 
 - having lived for ten full years with no realization 
 
 of hours and minutes as a measure for her actions.
 
 START AT THE BEGINNING 9 
 
 She dried her face quite as deliberately upon her 
 starched calico apron. Then she spent a few minutes 
 trying to catch a baby trout in her cupped palms. 
 Never had Billy Louise succeeded in catching a baby 
 trout in her hands ; therefore she never tired of trying. 
 Now, however, that rash promise nagged at her and 
 would not let her enjoy the game as completely as 
 usual. She took the wooden pail, and squatting on her 
 heels in the wet sand, waited until a small school swam 
 incautiously close to the bank, and scooped suddenly, 
 with a great splash. She caught three tiny, speckled 
 fish the length of her little finger, and she let the half- 
 full pail rest in the shallow stream, while she watched 
 the fry swimming excitedly round and round within. 
 
 There was no great fun in that. Billy Louise could 
 catch baby trout in a pail at home, from the waters of 
 the Wolverine, whenever she liked. Many a time she 
 had kept them in a big bottle until she tired of watching 
 them, or they died because she forgot to change the 
 water often enough. She could not get even a languid 
 enjoyment out of them now, because she could not for 
 a minute forget that she had promised to wash Marthy's 
 dishes and Marthy always had so many dirty dishes ! 
 And Marthy's dishpan was so greasy! Billy Louise 
 gave a little shudder when she thought of it. 
 
 " I wish her little girl had n't died," she said, her 
 mind swinging from effect back to cause. " I could 
 play with her. And she'd wash the dishes herself. 
 I 'm going to name my new little pig Minervy. I wish 
 she had n't died. I 'd show her my little pig, if 
 Marthy 'd let her come over to our place. We could 
 both ride on old Badger; Minervy could ride behind
 
 10 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 me, and we 'd go places together." Billy Louise medi- 
 tatively stirred up the baby trout with a forefinger. 
 " We 'd go up the canyon and have the caves for our 
 play-houses. Minervy could have the secret cave away 
 up the hill, and I 'd have the other one across from it ; 
 and we 'd have flags and wigwag messages like daddy 
 tells about in the war. And we 'd play the rabbits are 
 Injuns, and the coyotes are big-Injun-chiefs sneaking 
 down to see if the forts are watching. And whichever 
 seen a coyote first would wigwag to the other one . . ." 
 A baby trout, taking advantage of the pail tipping in 
 the current, gave a flip over the edge and interrupted 
 Billy Louise's fancies. She gave the pail a tilt and 
 spilled out the other two fish. Then she filled it as 
 full as she could carry and started back to pay the 
 price of her sympathy. 
 
 " I don't see what Minervy had to go and die for! " 
 she complained, dodging a low-hanging branch of bloom- 
 laden lilac. " She could wash the dishes and I 'd wipe 
 'em and I s'pose there ain't a clean dish-towel in the 
 house, either ! Marthy 's an awful slack housekeeper." 
 
 Billy Louise, being a young person with a conscience 
 of a sort washed the dishes, since she had given 
 her word to do it. The dishpan was even more un- 
 pleasant than experience had foretold for her; and of 
 Marthy 's somewhat meager supply there seemed not one 
 clean dish in the house. The sympathy of Billy Louise 
 therefore waned rapidly; rather, it turned in upon 
 itself. So that by the time she felt morally free to 
 spend the rest of the afternoon as she pleased, she was 
 not at all sorry for Marthy for having lost Minervy; 
 instead, she was sorry for herself for having been be-
 
 START AT THE BEGINNING 11 
 
 trayed into rashness and for being deprived of a play- 
 mate. 
 
 " I don't s'pose Marthy doctored her right, at- all," 
 she considered pitilessly, as she returned down the lilac- 
 bordered path. " If she had, I guess she would n't 
 have died. I '11 bet she never gave her a speck of sage 
 tea, like mommie always does when I 'm sick only' 
 I ain't ever, thank goodness. I 'm just going to ask 
 Jase if Marthy did." 
 
 On the way to the root cellar, which was dug into 
 the creek-bank well above high-water mark, Billy 
 Louise debated within herself the ethics of speaking to 
 Jase upon a forbidden subject. Jase had been Mi- 
 nervy's father, and therefore knew of her existence, so 
 that mentioning Minervy to him could not in any sense 
 be betraying a secret. She wondered if Jase felt badly 
 about it, as Marthy seemed to do. On the heels of that 
 came the determination to test his emotional capacity. 
 
 At the root cellar her attention was diverted. The 
 cellar door was fastened on the outside, with the iron 
 hasp used to protect the store of vegetables from the 
 weather. Jase must be gone. She was turning away 
 when she heard him clear his throat with that peculiar 
 little hacking, rasping noise which sounded exactly as 
 one would expect a Jase to sound. Billy Louise puck- 
 ered her eyebrows, pressed her lips together under- 
 standingly and disapprovingly and opened the 
 door. 
 
 Jase, humped over a heap of sprouting potatoes, 
 blinked up apathetically into the sudden flood of sweet, 
 spring air and sunshine. " Why, hello, Billy Louise," 
 he mumbled, his eyes brightening a bit.
 
 12 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 ! " Say, you was locked in here ! " Billy Louise faced 
 him puzzled. " Did you know you was locked in ? " 
 
 " Yes-s, I knowed it. Marthy, she locked the door." 
 Jase reached out a bony hand covered with carrot- 
 colored hairs and picked up a shriveling potato with 
 long, sickly sprouts proclaiming life's persistence in 
 perpetuating itself under adverse circumstances. He 
 broke off the sprouts with a wipe of his dirty palm and 
 threw the potato into a heap in the corner. 
 
 " What for ? " Billy Louise demanded, watching 
 Jase reach languidly out for another potato. 
 
 " She seen me diggin' bait," Jase said tonelessly. 
 " I did think some of ketchin' a mess of fish before I 
 went to sproutin' p'tatoes, but Marthy she don't take no 
 int'rest in nothin' but work." 
 
 " Are the fish biting good ? " Billy Louise glanced 
 toward the wider stream, where it showed through a 
 gap in the alders. 
 
 " Yes-s, purty good now. I caught a nice mess the 
 other day; but Marthy, she don't favor my goin' 
 fishin'." The lean hands of Jase moved slowly at his 
 task. Billy Louise, watching him, wondered why he 
 did not hurry a little and finish sooner. Still, she could 
 not remember ever seeing Jase hurry at anything, and 
 the Cove with its occupants was one of het very earliest 
 memories. 
 
 " Say, I '11 dig some more bait, and then we '11 go 
 fishing ; shall we ? " 
 
 "I dunno as I better " Jase's hand hovered 
 aimlessly over the potato pile. " I got quite a lot 
 sprouted, though and mebby " 
 
 " I '11 lock you in till I get the bait dug," suggested
 
 START AT THE BEGINNING 13 
 
 Billy Louise craftily. " And you work fast ; and then 
 I'll let you out, and we'll lock the door agin, so 
 Marthy '11 think you 're in there yet." 
 
 " You 're sure smart to think up things," Jase ad- 
 mired, smiling loose-lipped behind his scraggly beard, 
 that was fading with the years. " I dunno but what 
 it 'd serve Marthy right. She ain't got no call to lock 
 the door on me. She hates like sin t' see me with a 
 fish-pole in m' hand but she 's always et her share 
 uh the messes I ketch. She ain't a reasonable woman, 
 Marthy ain't. You git the bait. I '11 show Marthy 
 who 's boss in this Cove ! " 
 
 He might have encouraged himself into defying 
 Marthy to her face, in another five minutes of com- 
 plaining. But the cellar door closed upon him with a 
 slam. Billy Louise was not interested in his opinion 
 of Marthy; with her, opinions were valueless if not 
 accompanied by action. 
 
 " I never thought to ask him about Minervy," oc- 
 curred to her while she was relentlessly dragging pale, 
 fleshly fishworms from the loose black soil of Marthy's 
 onion bed. " But I know she was mean to Minervy. 
 She 's awful mean to Jase locking him up in the 
 root cellar just 'cause he wanted to go fishing. If I 
 was Jase I would n't sprout a single old potato for her. 
 My goodness, but she '11 be mad when she opens the 
 cellar door and Jase ain't in there ; I guess I '11 go 
 home early, before Marthy finds it out." 
 
 She really meant to do that, but the fish were hun- 
 gry fish that day, and the joy of having a companion 
 to exclaim with her over every hard tug even though 
 that companion was only Jase enticed her to stay
 
 14 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 on and on, until a whiff of frying pork on the breeze 
 that swept down the Cove warned Billy Louise of the 
 near approach of supper-time. 
 
 " I guess inebby I might as well go back to the 
 suller," Jase remarked, his defiance weakening as he 
 climbed the bank. " You come and lock the door agin, 
 Billy Louise, and Marthy won't know I ain't been there 
 all the time. She '11 think you caught the fish." He 
 looked at her with a weak leer of conscious cunning. 
 
 Billy Louise, groping vaguely for the sunbonnet that 
 was dangling between her straight shoulder-blades, 
 stared at him with wide eyes that held disillusionment 
 and with it a contempt all the keener because it was the 
 contempt of a child, whose judgment is merciless. 
 
 " I should thing you 'd be ashamed ! " she said at 
 last, forgetting that the idea had been born in her own 
 brain. " Cowards do things and then sneak about it. 
 Daddy says so. I don't care if Marthy is mad 'cause I 
 let you out, and I don't care if she knows we went 
 fishing. I thought you wanted Marthy to see she ain't 
 so smart, locking you up in the cellar. I ain't going to 
 bake you a single cookie with raisings on it, like I was 
 going to." 
 
 " Marthy 's got a sharp tongue in 'er head," Jase 
 wavered, his eyes shifting from Billy Louise's uncom- 
 promising stare. 
 
 " Daddy says when you do a thing that 's mean, do 
 it and take your medicine," Billy Louise retorted. 
 " The boy of me that belongs to dad ain't a sneak, Jase 
 Meilke. And," she added loftily, "the girl of me that 
 belongs to mommie is a perfeck lady. Good day, Mr. 
 Meilke. Thank you for a pleasant time fishing."
 
 START AT THE BEGINNING 15 
 
 Whereupon the perfect lady part switched short 
 skirts up the path and held a tousled head high with 
 disdain, 
 
 Jase, thus deserted, went shambling back to the cel- 
 lar and fell to sprouting potatoes with what might al- 
 most be termed industry. 
 
 It pained Jase later to discover that Marthy was 
 not interested in the open door, but in the very small 
 heap of potatoes which he had " sprouted " that after- 
 noon. There was other work to be done in the Cove, 
 and there were but two pairs of hands to do it; that 
 one pair was slow and shiftless and inefficient was bit- 
 terly accepted by Marthy, who worked from sunrise 
 until dark to make up for the shirking of those other 
 hands. 
 
 It was the trail experience over again, and it was an 
 experience that dragged through the years without 
 change or betterment. Marthy wanted to " get ahead." 
 Jase wanted to sit in the sun with his knees drawn up,, 
 just I don't know what, but I suppose he called it 
 thinking. When he felt unusually energetic, he liked 
 to dangle an impaled worm over a trout pool. Theo- 
 retically he also wanted to get ahead and to have a fine 
 ranch and lots of cattle and a comfortable home. He 
 would plan these things sometimes in an expansive mood, 
 whereupon Marthy would stare at him with her hard, 
 contemptuous look until Jase trailed off into mum- 
 bling complaints into his beard. He was not as able- 
 bodied as she thought he was, he would say, with vague 
 solemnity. Some uh these days Marthy 'd see how she 
 had driven him beyond his strength. 
 
 When one is a Marthy, however, with ambitions and
 
 16 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 a tireless energy and the persistence of a beaver, and 
 when one listens to vague mutterings for many hard 
 laboring years, one grows accustomed to the complain- 
 ings and fails to see certain warning symptoms of which 
 even the complainer is only vaguely aware. 
 
 She kept on working through the years, and as far 
 as was humanly possible she kept Jase working. She 
 did not soften, except toward Billy Louise, who rode 
 sometimes over from her father's ranch on the Wolver- 
 ine to the flowery delights of the Cove. The place was 
 a perfect jungle of sweetness, seven months of each 
 year ; for Marthy owned and indulged a love of beauty, 
 even if she could not realize her dream of prosperity. 
 Wherever was space in the house-yard for a flower or 
 a fruit tree or a berry bush, Marthy planted one or the 
 other. You could not see the cabin from April until 
 the leaves fell in late October, except in a fragmentary 
 way as you walked around it. You went in at a gate 
 of pickets which Marthy herself had split and nailed 
 in place ; you followed a narrow, winding path through 
 the sweet jungle and if you were tall, you stooped 
 now and then to pass under an apple branch. And 
 unless you looked up at the black, lava-rock rim of the 
 bluff which cupped this Eden incongruously, you would 
 forget that just over the brim lay parched plain and 
 barren mountain. 
 
 When Billy Louise was twelve, she had other am- 
 bitions than the making of cookies with " raisings " on 
 them. She wanted to do something big, though she was 
 hazy as to the particular nature of that big something. 
 She tried to talk it over with Marthy, but Marthy could 
 not seem to think beyond the Cove, except that now and
 
 START AT THE BEGINNING 17 
 
 then Billy Louise would suspect that her mind did 
 travel to the desert and Minervy's grave. Marthy's 
 hair was growing streaked with yellowish gray, though 
 it never grew less unkempt and dusty 'looking. Her 
 eyes were harder, if anything, except when they rested 
 on Billy Lfluise. 
 
 When she was thirteen, Billy Louise rode over with 
 a loaf of bread she had baked all by herself, and she 
 put this problem to Marthy: 
 
 " I 've been thinking I 'd go ahead and write poetry, 
 Marthy a whole book of it with pictures. But I do 
 love to make bread and people have to eat bread. 
 Which would you be, Marthy ; a poet, or a cook \ " 
 
 Marthy looked at her a minute, lent her attention 
 briefly to the question, and gave what she considered 
 good advice. 
 
 " You learn how to cook, Billy Louise. Yuh don't 
 want to go and get notions. Your maw ain't healthy, 
 and your paw likes good grub. Po'try is all foolish- 
 ness; there ain't any money in it." 
 
 "Walter Scott paid his debts writing poetry," said 
 Billy Louise argumentatively. She had just read all 
 about Walter Scott in a magazine which a passing cow- 
 boy had given her; perhaps that had something to do 
 with her new ambition. 
 
 " Mebby he did and mebby he did n't. I 'd like to see 
 our debts paid off with po'try. It 'd have to be worth 
 a hull lot more 'n what I 'd give for it." 
 
 " Oh. Have you got debts too, Marthy ? " Billy 
 Louise at thirteen was still ready with sympathy. 
 " Daddy 's got lots and piles of 'em. He bought some 
 cattle and now he talks to mommie all the time about
 
 18 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 debts. Mommie wants me to go to Boise to school, 
 next winter, to Aunt Sarah's. And daddy says there 's 
 debts to pay. I did n't know you had any, Marthy." 
 
 "Well, I have got. We bought some cattle, too 
 and they ain't done 's well 's they might. If I had a 
 man that was any good on earth, I could put up more 
 hay. But I can't git nothing outa Jase but whines. 
 Your paw oughta send you to school, Billy Louise, even 
 if he has got debts. 1 7 d 'a' sent " 
 
 She stopped there, but Billy Louise knew how she 
 finished the sentence mentally. She would have sent 
 Minervy to school. 
 
 " Your paw ain't got any right to keep you outa 
 school," Marthy went on aggressively. " Debts er no 
 debts, he'd see't you got schoolin' if he was the 
 right kinda man." 
 
 " Daddy is the right kinda man. He ain't like Jase. 
 He says he wishes he could, but he don't know where 
 the money 's coming from." 
 
 " How much 's it goin' to take ? " asked Marthy 
 heavily. 
 
 " Oh, piles." Billy Louise spoke airily to hide her 
 pride in the importance of the subject. " Fifty dollars, 
 I guess. I 've got to have some new clothes, mommie 
 says. I 'd like a blue dress." 
 
 " And your paw can't raise fifty dollars ? " Marthy's 
 tone was plainly belligerent. 
 
 " Got to pay interest," said Billy Louise importantly. 
 
 Marthy said not another word about debts or the 
 duties of parents. What she did was more to the point, 
 however, for she hitched the mules to a rattly old buck- 
 board next day and drove over to the MacDonald ranch
 
 START AT THE BEGINNING 19 
 
 on the Wolverine. She carried fifty dollars in her 
 pocket and that was practically all the money Marthy 
 possessed, and had been saved for the debts that har- 
 assed her. She gave the money to Billy Louise's 
 mother and said that it was a present for Billy Louise, 
 and meant for " school money." She said that she 
 had n't any girl of her own to spend the money on, 
 and that Billy Louise was a good girl and a smart irirl, 
 and she wanted to do a little something toward her 
 schooling. 
 
 A woman will sacrifice "more pride than you would 
 believe, if she sees a way toward helping her children 
 to an education. Mrs. MacDonald took the money, and 
 she promised secrecy with a feeling of relief that 
 Marthy wished it. She was astonished to find that 
 Marthy had any feelings not directly connected with 
 work or the shortcomings of Jase, but she never sus- 
 pected that Marthy had made any sacrifice for Billy 
 Louise. 
 
 So Billy Louisje went away to school and never knew 
 whose money had made it possible to go, and Marthy 
 worked harder and drove Jase more relentlessly to make 
 up that fifty dollars. She never mentioned the matter 
 to anyone. The next year it was the same; when, in 
 August, she questioned Billy Louise clumsily upon 
 the subject of finances, and learned that " daddy " still 
 talked about debts and interest and did n't know where 
 the money was coming from, she drove over again with 
 money for the " schooling." And again she extracted a 
 promise of silence. 
 
 She did this for four years, and not a soul knew 
 that it cost her anything in the way of extra work and
 
 20 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 extra harassment of mind. She bought more cattle 
 and cut more hay and went deeper into debt; for as 
 Billy Louise grew older and prettier and more accus- 
 tomed to the ways of town, she needed more money, and 
 the August gift grew proportionately larger. The 
 mother was thankful beyond the point of questioning. 
 An August without Marthy and Marthy's gift of money 
 would have been a tragedy; and so selfish is mother- 
 love sometimes that she would have accepted the gift 
 even if she had known what it cost the giver. 
 
 At eighteen, then, Billy Louise knew some things 
 not taught by the wide plains and the wild hills around 
 her. She was not spoiled by her little learning, which 
 was a good thing. And when her father died tragically 
 beneath ari overturned load of poles from the mountain 
 at the head of the canyon, Billy Louise came home. 
 The Billy of her tried to take his place, and the Louise 
 of her attempted to take care of her mother, who was 
 unfitted both by nature and habit to take care of her- 
 self. Which was, after all, a rather big thing for any- 
 one, to attempt.
 
 CHAPTER H 
 
 A STOBM AND A STRANGER 
 
 JASE began to complain of having "all-gone" 
 feelings during the winter after Billy Louise came 
 home and took up the whole burden of the Wolverine 
 ranch. He complained to Billy Louise, when she rode 
 over one clear, sunny day in January; he said that he 
 was getting old which was perfectly true and that 
 he was not as able-bodied as he might be, and didn't 
 expect to last much longer. Billy Louise spoke of it 
 to Marthy, and Marthy snorted. 
 
 " He 's able-bodied enough at mealtimes, I notice/' 
 she retorted. " I 've heard that tune ever since I 
 knowed him ; he can't fool me ! " 
 
 " Xot about the all-goneness, have you?" Billy 
 Louise was preparing to wipe the dishes for Marthy. 
 " I know he always had ' cricks ' in different parts of 
 his anatomy, but I never heard about his feeling all- 
 gone, before. That sounds mysterious, don't you 
 think?" 
 
 " No ; and he never had nothin' the matter with his 
 anatomy, neither ; his anatomy 's just as sound as mine. 
 Jase was born lazy, is all ails him." 
 
 " But, Marthy, have n't you noticed he does n't look 
 as well as he used to? He has a sort of gray look, 
 don't you think? And his eyes are so puffy under- 
 neath, lately."
 
 22 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " No, I ain't noticed nothing wrong with him that 
 ain't always heen wrong." Marthy spoke grudgingly, 
 as if she resented even the possibility of Jase's having 
 a real ailment. " He 's feelin' his years, mebby. But 
 he ain't no call to ; Jase ain't but three years older 'n 
 I be, and I ain't but fifty-nine last birthday. And I 've 
 worked and slaved here in this Cove fer twenty-seven 
 years, now; what it is I've made it. Jase ain't ever 
 done a hand's turn that he was n't obliged to do. I 've 
 chopped wood, and I 've built corrals and dug ditches, 
 and Jase has puttered around and whined that he 
 was n't able-bodied enough to do no heavy lifting. 
 That there orchard out there I planted and packed 
 water in buckets to it till I got the ditch through. 
 Them corrals down next the river I built. I dug the 
 post-holes, and Jase set the posts in and held 'em steady 
 while I tamped the dirt! In winter I've hauled hay 
 and fed the cattle; and Jase, he packed a bucket uh 
 slop, mebby, to the pigs ! If he ain't as able-bodied as 
 I be, it 's because he ain't done nothing to git strong on. 
 He can't come around me now with that all-gone feeling 
 uh his; I know Jase Meilke like a book." 
 
 There was more that she said about Jase. Standing 
 there, a squat, unkempt woman with a seamed, leathery 
 face and hard eyes now quite faded to gray, she told 
 Billy Louise a good deal of the bitterness of the years 
 behind; years of hardship and of slavish toil and no 
 love to lighten it. She spoke again of Minervy, and 
 the name brought back to Billy Louise poignant mem- 
 ories of her own lonely childhood and of her " pretend " 
 playmate. 
 
 Half shyly, because she was still sometimes touched
 
 A STORM AND A STRANGER 23 
 
 with the inarticulateness of youth, Billy Louise told 
 Marthy a little of that playmate. " Why, do you know, 
 every time I rode old Badger anywhere, after that day 
 you told me about Minervy, I used to pretend that 
 Minervy rode behind me. I used to talk to her by 
 the hour and take her places. And up our canyon is 
 a cave that I used to play was Minervy's cave. I had 
 another one, and I used to go over and visit Minervy. 
 And I had another pretend playmate a boy and 
 we used to have adventures. It 's a queer place ; I just 
 found that cave by accident. I don't believe there 's 
 another person in the country who knows it 's there at 
 all. Well, that 's Minervy's cave to me yet. And, 
 Marthy " Billy Louise giggled a little and eyed the 
 old woman with a sidelong look that would have set 
 a young man's blood a- jump '' I hope you won't be 
 mad; I was just a kid, and I did n't know any better. 
 But just to show you how much I thought: I had a 
 little pig, and I named it Minervy, after you told me 
 about her. And mommie told me that was no name 
 for it ; it was it was n't a girl pig, mommie said. 
 So I called it Man-ervy, as the next best thing." She 
 gave Marthy another wasted glance from the corners 
 of her eyes. " Oh, Marthy ! " she cried remorsefully, 
 setting down the gravy bowl that she might pat Marthy 
 on her fat, age-rounded shoulder. " What a little beast 
 I am ! I should n't have told that ; but honest, I thought 
 it was an honor. I I just worshiped that pig ! " 
 
 Jase maundered in at that moment, and Marthy, 
 catching up a corner of her dirty apron Billy Louise 
 could not remember ever seeing Marthy in a perfectly 
 clean dress or apron wiped away what traces of
 
 24 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 emotion her weathered face could reveal. Also, she 
 turned and glared at Jase with what Billy Louise con- 
 sidered a perfectly uncalled-for animosity. In reality, 
 Marthy was covertly looking for visible symptoms of 
 the all-goneness. She shut her harsh lips together 
 tightly at what she saw ; Jase certainly was puffy under 
 his watery, pink-rimmed eyes, and the withered cheeks 
 above his thin graying beard really did have a pasty, 
 gray look. 
 
 " D' you turn them calves out into the corral ? " she 
 demanded, her voice harder because of her secret un- 
 easiness. 
 
 " I was goin' to, but the wind 's changed into the 
 north, 'n' I thought mebby you would n't want 'em out." 
 Jase turned back aimlessly to the door. His voice was 
 getting cracked and husky, and the deprecating note 
 dominated pathetically all that he said. " You '11 have 
 to face the wind goin' home," he said to Billy Louise. 
 " More 'n likely you '11 be facin' snow, too. Looks bad, 
 off that way." 
 
 " You go on and turn them calves out ! " Marthy 
 commanded him harshly. " Billy Louise ain't goin' 
 home if it storms ; I sh'd think you 'd know enough to 
 know that." 
 
 " Oh, but I '11 have to go, anyway," the girl inter- 
 rupted. " Mommie can't be there alone ; she 'd worry 
 herself to death if I didn't show up by dark. She 
 worries about every little thing since daddy died. I 
 ought to have gone before or I ought n't to have come. 
 But she was worrying about you, Marthy ; she had n't 
 seen or heard of you for a month, and she was afraid 
 you might be sick or something. Why don't you gvt
 
 A STORM AND A STRANGER 25 
 
 someone to stay with you? I think you ought to." 
 She looked toward the door, which Jase had closed upon 
 his departure. " If Jase should get sick, or any- 
 thing " 
 
 " Jase ain't goin' to git sick," Marthy retorted 
 glumly. !i Yuh don't want to let him worry yuh, Billy 
 Louise. If I 'd worried every time he yowled around 
 about being sick, I 'd be dead or crazy by now. I 
 dunno but maybe I '11 have somebody to help with the 
 work, though," she added, after a pause during which 
 she had swiped the dish-rag around the sides of the 
 pan once or twice, and had opened the door and thrown 
 the water out beyond the doorstep like the sloven she 
 was. " I got a nephew that wants to come out. He 's 
 been in a bank, but he 's quit and wants to git on to 
 a ranch. I dunno but I '11 have him come, in the 
 spring." 
 
 " Do," urged Billy Louise, perfectly unconscious of 
 the potentialities of the future. " I hate to think of 
 you two down here alone. I don't suppose anyone 
 ever comes down here, except me and that isn't 
 often." 
 
 " Nobody 's got any call to come down," said Marthy 
 stolidly. " They sure ain't going to come for our 
 comp'ny and there ain't nothing else to bring 'em." 
 
 " Well, there are n't many to come, you know," 
 laughed Billy Louise, shaking out the dish towel and 
 spreading it over two nails, as she did at home. " I 'm 
 your nearest neighbor, and I 're got six miles to ride 
 against the wind, at that. I think I 'd better start. 
 We've got a halfbreed doing chores for us, but the has 
 to be looked after or he neglects things. I '11 not get
 
 26 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 another chance to come very soon, I 'm afraid ; mommie 
 hates to have me ride around much in the winter. You 
 send for that nephew right away, why don't you, 
 Marthy ? " It was like Billy Louise to mix command 
 and entreaty together. V Eeally, I don't think Jase 
 looks a bit well." 
 
 " A good strong steepin' of sage '11 fix him ull ^ight, 
 only he ain't sick, as I see. You take this shawi." 
 
 Billy Louise refused the shawl and ran down the 
 twisted path fringed with long, reaching fingers of 
 the bare berry bushes. At the stable she stopped for 
 an aimless dialogue with Jase and then rode away, 
 past the orchard whose leafless branches gave glimpses 
 of the low, sod-roofed cabin, with Marthy standing 
 rather disconsolately on the rough doorstep watching 
 her go. 
 
 Absently she let down the bars in the narrowest 
 place in the gorge and lifted them into their rude 
 sockets after she had led her horse through. All through 
 the years since Marthy had gone down that rocky gash 
 in search of Buck and Bawley, no human being had 
 entered or left the Cove save through that narrow 
 opening. The tingle of romance which swept always 
 the nerves of the girl when she rode that way fastened 
 upon her now. She wished the Cove belonged to her; 
 she thought she would like to live in a place like that, 
 with warlike Indians all around and that gorge to 
 guard day and night. She wished she had been Marthy, 
 discovering that place and taming it, little by little, 
 in solitary achievement the sweeter because it had 
 been hard. 
 
 " It 's a bigger thing," said Billy Louise aloud to
 
 A STORM AND A STRANGER 27 
 
 her horse, " to make a home here in this wilderness, 
 than to write the greatest poem in the world or paint 
 the greatest picture or anything. I wish . . " 
 
 Blue was climbing steadily out of the gorge, twitch- 
 ing an ear backward with flattering attention when his 
 lady spoke. He held it so for a minute, waiting for 
 that sonte~.ce to be finished, perhaps; for he was wise- 
 beyond his kind was Blue. But his lady was star- 
 ing at the rock wall they were passing then, where the 
 winds and the cold and heat had carved jutting ledges 
 into the crude form of cabbages; though Billy Louise 
 preferred to call them roses. Always they struck her 
 with a new wonder, as if she saw them for the first 
 time. Blue went on, calmly stepping over this rock 
 and around that as if it were the simplest thing in 
 the world to find sure footing and carry his lady 
 smoothly up that trail. He threw up his head so 
 suddenly that Billy Louise was startled out of her aim- 
 less dreamings, and pointed nose and ears toward the 
 little creek-bottom above, where Marthy had lighted her 
 camp-fire long and long ago. 
 
 A few steps farther, and Blue stopped short in the 
 trail to look and listen. Billy Louise could see the 
 nervous twitchings of his muscles under the skin of 
 neck and shoulders, and she smiled to herself. Nothing 
 could ever come upon her unaware when she rode alone, 
 so long as she rode Blue. A hunting dog was not more 
 keenly alive to his surroundings. 
 
 " Go on, Blue," she commanded after a minute. " If 
 it 's a bear or anything like that, you can make a run 
 for it ; if it 's a wolf, I '11 shoot it. You need n't stand 
 here all night, anyway."
 
 Blue went on, out from behind the willow growth 
 that hid the open. He returned to his calm, picking a 
 smooth trail through the scattered rocks and tiny wash- 
 outs. It was the girl's turn to stare and speculate. 
 She did not know this horseman who sat negligently 
 in the saddle and looked up at the cedar-grown bluff 
 beyond, while his horse stood knee-deep in the little 
 stream. She did not know him; and there were not 
 so many travelers in the land that strangers were a 
 matter of indifference. 
 
 Blue welcomed the horse with a democratic nicker 
 and went forward briskly. And the rider turned his 
 head, eyed the girl sharply as she came up, and nodded 
 a cursory greeting. His horse lifted its head to look, 
 decided that it wanted another swallow or two, and 
 lowered its muzzle again to the water. 
 
 Billy Louise could not form any opinion of the 
 man's age or personality, for he was encased in a wolf- 
 skin coat which covered him completely from hatbrim 
 to ankles. She got an impression of a thin, dark face, 
 and a sharp glance from eyes that seemed dark also. 
 There was a thin, high nose, and beyond that Billy 
 Louise did not look. If she had, the mouth must cer- 
 tainly have reassured her somewhat. 
 
 Blue stepped nonchalantly down into the stream 
 Reside the strange horse and went across without stop- 
 ping to drink. The strange horse moved on also, as if 
 that were the natural thing to do which it was, 
 since chance sent them traveling the same trail. Billy 
 Louise set her teeth together with the queer little 
 vicious click that had always been her habit when she
 
 A STORM AND A STRANGER 29 
 
 felt thwarted and constrained to yield to circumstances, 
 and straightened herself in the saddle. 
 
 " Looks like a storm," the fur-coated one observed, 
 with a perfectly transparent attempt to lighten the 
 awkwardness. 
 
 Billy Louise tilted her chin upward and gazed at 
 the gray sweep of clouds moving sullenly toward the" 
 mountains at her back. She glanced at the man and 
 caught him looking intently at her face. 
 
 He did not look away immediately, as he should 
 have done, and Billy Louise felt a little heat-wave of 
 embarrassment, emphasized by resentment. 
 
 " Are you going far ? " he queried in the same tone 
 he had employed before. 
 
 " Six miles," she answered shortly, though she tried 
 to be decently civil. 
 
 " I 've about eighteen," he said. " Looks like we '11 
 both get caught out in a blizzard." 
 
 Certainly, he had a pleasant enough voice and 
 after all it was not his fault that he happened to be at 
 the crossing when she rode out of the gorge. Billy 
 Louise, in common justice, laid aside her resentment 
 and looked at him with a hint of a smile at the corners 
 of her lips. 
 
 " That 's what we have to expect when we travel in 
 this country in the winter," she replied. " Eighteen 
 miles will take you long after dark." 
 
 " Well, I was sort of figuring on putting up at some 
 ranch, if it got too bad. There 's a ranch somewhere 
 ahead, on the Wolverine, is n't there ? " 
 
 " Yes." Billy 'Louise bit her lip ; but hospitality 
 is an unwritten law of the West a law not to be
 
 30 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 lightly broken. " That 's where I live. We '11 be glad 
 to have you stop there, of course." 
 
 The stranger must have felt and admired the un- 
 conscious dignity of her tone and words, for he thanked 
 her simply and refrained from looking too intently at 
 her face. 
 
 Fine siftings of snow, like meal flung down from a 
 gigantic sieve, swept into their faces as they rode on. 
 The man turned his face toward her after a long 
 silence. She was riding with bowed head and face 
 half turned from him and the wind alike. 
 
 " You 'd better ride on ahead and get in out of this," 
 he said curtly. " Your horse is fresh. It 's going 
 to be worse and more of it, before long; this cayuse of 
 mine has had thirty miles or so of rough going." 
 , " I think I 'd better wait for you," she said primly. 
 " There are bad places where the trail goes close to 
 the bluff, and the lava rock will be slippery with this 
 snow. And it 's getting dark so fast that a stranger 
 might go over." 
 
 " If that 's the case, the sooner you are past the bad 
 places the better. I 'm all right. You drift along." 
 
 Billy Louise speculated briefly upon the note of 
 calm authority in his voice. He did not know, evi- 
 dently, that she was more accustomed to giving com- 
 mands than to obeying them ; her lips gave a little 
 quirk of amusement at his mistake. 
 
 " You go on. I don't want a guide." He tilted 
 his head peremptorily toward the blurred trail ahead. 
 
 Billy Louise laughed a little. She did not feel in 
 the least embarrassed now. " Do you never get what 
 you don't want ? " she asked him mildly. " I 'd a lot
 
 A STORM AND A STRANGER 31 
 
 rather lead you past those places than have you go 
 over the edge," she said, " because nobody could get 
 you up, or even go down and bury you decently. It 
 would n't be a bit nice. It 's much simpler to keep 
 you on tO." 
 
 He said something, but Billy Louise could not hear 
 what it was ; she suspected him of swearing. She rode~ 
 on in silence. 
 
 " Blue 's a dandy horse on bad trails and in the 
 dark," she observed companionably at last. " He sim- 
 ply can't lose his footing or his way." 
 
 "Yes? That's nice." 
 
 Billy Louise felt like putting out her tongue at him, 
 for the cool remoteness of his tone. It would serve him 
 right to ride on and let him break his neck over the 
 bluff if he wanted to. She shut her teeth together and 
 turned her face away from him. 
 
 So, in silence and with no very good feeling between 
 them, they went precariously down the steep hill (the 
 hill up which Marthy and the oxen and Jase had toiled 
 so laboriously, twenty-seven years before) and across 
 the tiny flat to where the cabin window winked a wel- 
 come at them through the storm.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 A BOOK, A BANNOCK, AND A BED 
 
 BLUE led the way straight to the low, dirt-roofed 
 stable of logs and stopped with his nose against 
 the closed door. Billy Louise herself was deceived by 
 the whirl of snow and would have missed the stable 
 entirely if the leadership had been hers. She patted 
 Blue gratefully on the shoulder when she unsaddled 
 him. She groped with her fingers for the wooden peg 
 in the wall where the saddle should hang, failed to 
 find it, and so laid the saddle down against the logs 
 and covered it with the blanket. 
 
 " Just turn your horse in loose," she directed the 
 man shortly. " Blue won't fight, and I think the 
 rest of the horses are in the other part. And come on 
 to the house." 
 
 It pleased her a little to see that he obeyed her with- 
 out protest; but she was not so pleased at his silence, 
 and she led the way rather indignantly toward the wink- 
 ing eye which was the cabin's window. 
 
 At the sound of their feet on the wide doorstep, her 
 mother pulled open the door and stood fair in the 
 light, looking out with the anxious look which had 
 lived so long in her face that it had lines of its own 
 chiseled deep in her forehead and at the sides of her 
 mouth. 
 
 " Is that you, Billy Louise ? Oh, ain't Peter Howling
 
 BOOK, BANNOCK, AND BED 33 
 
 Dog with you ? What makes you so terrible late, Billy 
 Louise? Come right in, stranger. I don't know your 
 name, but I don't need to know it. A storm like this 
 is all the interduction a fellow needs, I guess." * She 
 smiled, at that. She had a nice smile, with a little re- 
 semblance to Billy Louise, except that the worried, in- 
 quiring look never left her eyes; as if she had once 
 waited long for bad news, and had met everyone with 
 anxious, eager questioning, and her eyes had never 
 changed afterwards. Billy Louise glanced at her with 
 her calm, measuring look, making the contrast very 
 sharp between the two. 
 
 " What about Peter ? " she asked. " Is n't he here ? " 
 
 " No, and he ain't been since an hour or so after you 
 left. He saddled up and rode off down the river to 
 the reservation, I reckon." 
 
 " Then the chores are n't done, I suppose." Billy 
 Louise went over and took a lantern down from its 
 nail, turning up the wick so that she could light it with 
 the candle. " Go up to the fire and thaw out," she 
 invited the man. " We '11 have supper in a few min- 
 utes." 
 
 Instead he reached out and took the lantern from 
 her as soon as she had lighted it. " You go to the fire 
 yourself," he said. " I '11 do what 's necessary out- 
 side." 
 
 " Why-y " Billy Louise, her fingers still clinging 
 to the lantern, looked up at him. He was staring down 
 at her with that intent look she had objected to on the 
 trail, but she saw his mouth, and the little smile that 
 hid just back of his lips. She smiled back without know- 
 ing it. " I '11 have to go along, anyway. There are cows 
 
 A
 
 34 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 to milk and you could n't very well find the cow-stable 
 alone." 
 
 "Think not?" 
 
 Billy Louise had been perfectly furious at that tone, 
 out on the trail. Now that she could see his lips and 
 their little twitching to keep back the smile, she did 
 not mind the tone at all. She had turned away to get 
 the milk pails, and now she gave him a sidelong look, 
 of the kind that had been utterly wasted upon Marthy. 
 The man met it and immediately turned his atten- 
 tion to the lantern wick, which needed nice adjustment 
 before its blaze quite pleased him ; he was not a Marthy 
 to receive such a look unmoved. 
 
 Together they went out again into the storm they 
 had left so eagerly. Billy Louise showed him where 
 was the pitchfork and the hay, and then did the milking 
 while he piled full the mangers. After that they weni 
 together and turned the shivering work horses into the 
 stable from the corral where they huddled, rumps to 
 the storm; and the man lifted great forkfuls of hay 
 and carried it into their stalls, while Billy Louise held 
 the lantern high over her head like a western Liberty. 
 They did not talk much, except when there was need 
 for speech; but they were beginning to feel a little 
 glow of companionship by the time they were ready 
 to fight their way against the blizzard to the house, 
 Billy Louise going before with the lantern, while the 
 man followed close behind, carrying the two pails of 
 milk that was already freezing in little crystals to the 
 tin. 
 
 " Did yotf get everything done ? You must be half 
 froze and starved into the bar^in." Mrs. Mac-
 
 BOOK, BANNOCK, AND BED 35 
 
 Donald, as is the way of some women who know the 
 weight of isolation, had a habit of talking with a nerv- 
 ous haste at times, and of relapsing into long, brooding 
 silences afterwards. She talked now, while she pulled 
 a pan of hot, brown biscuits from the oven, poured 
 the tea, and turned crisp, browned potatoes out of a 
 frying-pan into a deep, white bowl. She wondered, 
 over and over, why Peter Howling Dog had left and 
 why he did not return. She said that was the way, 
 when you depended on Indians for anything. She did 
 wish there was a white man to be had. She asked after 
 Marthy and Jase and gave Billy Louise no opportunity 
 to tell her anything. 
 
 Billy Louise glanced often at the man, who did not 
 look in the least as she had fancied, except that he 
 really did have a high nose and terribly keen eyes with 
 something behind the keenness that baffled her. And 
 his mouth was pleasant, especially when that smile hid 
 just behind his lips; also, she liked his hair, which 
 was thick and brown, with hints of red in it here and 
 there, and a strong inclination to curl where it was 
 longest. She had known he was tall when he stepped 
 into the light of the door; now she saw that he was 
 slim to the point of leanness, with square shoulders and 
 a nervous quickness when he moved. His fingers were 
 never idle; when he was not eating, he rolled bits of 
 biscuit into tiny, soggy balls beside his plate, or played 
 a soft tattoo with his fork. 
 
 " I did n't quite catch your name, mister," her 
 mother said finally. " But take another biscuit, any- 
 way." 
 
 " Warren is my name," returned the man, with that
 
 36 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 hidden smile because she had rfever before given him 
 any opportunity to tell it. " Ward Warren. I 've get 
 a claim over on Mill Creek." 
 
 Billy Louise gave a little gasp and distractedly 
 poured two spoons of sugar in her tea, although she 
 hated it sweetened. 
 
 I 've got to tell you why, even at the price of digres- 
 sion. Long ago, when Billy Louise was twelve or so, 
 and lived largely in a dream world of her own with 
 Minervy for her " pretend " playmate, she had one day 
 chanced upon a paragraph in a paper that had come 
 from town wrapped around a package of matches. It 
 was all about Ward Warren. The name caught her 
 fancy, and the text of the paragraph seized upon her 
 imagination. Until school filled her mind with other 
 things, she had built adventures without end in which 
 Ward Warren was the central figure. Up the canyon 
 at the caves, she sometimes pretended that Ward 
 Warren had abducted Minervy and that she must lead 
 the rescue. Sometimes, when she rode in the hills, 
 Ward Warren abducted her and led her into strange 
 places where she tried to shiver in honest dread. Often 
 and often, however, Ward Warren was a fugitive who 
 came to her for help; then she would take him to 
 Minervy's cave and hide him, perhaps; or she would 
 mount her horse and lead him, by devious ways, to 
 safety, and upon some hilltop from which she could 
 point out the route he must follow, she would bid him 
 a touching adieu and beseech him, in the impossible 
 language of some old romancer, to go and lead a 
 blameless life. Sitting there at the table opposite him, 
 stirring the sugar heedlessly into her tea, one favorite
 
 BOOK, BANNOCK, AND BED 37 
 
 exhortation returned from her dream-world, clear as 
 if she had just spoken it aloud. " Go, and sin no 
 more; and if perchance you will in some distant far 
 land send me a kind thought, that will be reward 
 enough for what I have done this day. Farewell, 
 Ward Warren Kismet." 
 
 The lips of Billy Louise smiled and stopped just 
 short of laughter, and she looked across at Ward 
 Warren as if she expected him to laugh also at that 
 frightfully virtuous though stilted adieu. She found 
 him looking straight at her in that intent fashion that 
 seemed as if he would see through and all around her 
 and her thoughts. He was not smiling at all. His 
 mouth was pulled into a certain bitter understanding; 
 indeed, he looked exactly as if Billy Louise had dealt 
 him a deliberate affront which he could neither parry 
 nor fling back at her, but must endure with what stoi- 
 cism he might 
 
 Billy Louise blushed guiltily, took an unpremedi- 
 tated swallow of tea, and grimaced over the sickish 
 sweetness of it. She got up and emptied the tea into 
 the slop bucket, and loitered over the refilling of the 
 cup so that when she returned to the table she was at 
 least outwardly calm. She felt another quick, keen 
 glance from across the table, but she helped herself 
 composedly to the cream and listened to her mother 
 with flattering attention. 
 
 " Jase has got all-gone feelings now, mommie," she 
 remarked irrelevantly during a brief pause and re- 
 lapsed into silence again. She knew that was good for 
 at least five minutes of straight monologue, with her 
 mother in that talking mood. She finished her supper
 
 38 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 while Warren listened abstractedly to a complete 
 biography of the Meilkes and learned all about Marthy's 
 energy and Jase's shiftlessness. 
 
 " Ward Warren ! " Billy Louise was saying to her- 
 self. " Did you ever in your life it 's exactly as if 
 Minervy should come to life and walk in. Ward War- 
 ren ! There could n't possibly be two Ward Warrens ; 
 it 's such an odd name. Well ! " 
 
 Then she went mentally over that paragraph. She 
 wished she did not remember every single word of it, 
 but she did. And she was afraid to look at him after 
 that. And she wanted to, dreadfully. She felt as 
 though he belonged to her. Why, he was her old play- 
 mate ! And she had saved his life hundreds of times, 
 at immense risks to herself; and he had always been 
 her devoted slave afterwards, and never failed to ap- 
 pear at the precise moment when she was beset by 
 Indians or robbers or something, and in dire need. 
 The blood he had shed in her behalf! At that point 
 Billy Louise startled herself and the others by sud- 
 denly laughing out loud at the memory of one time 
 when Ward Warren had killed enough Indians to fill 
 a deep washout so that he might carry her across to 
 the other side! 
 
 " Is there anything funny about Jase Meilke dying, 
 Billy Louise?" her mother asked her in a perfectly 
 shocked tone. 
 
 " No I was thinking of something else." She 
 glanced at the man eyeing her so distrustfully from 
 across the table and gurgled again. It was terribly 
 silly, but she simply could not help seeing Ward War- 
 ren calmly filling that washout with dead Indians so
 
 BOOK, BANNOCK, AND BED 39 
 
 that he might carry her across it in his arms. The 
 more she tried to forget that, the funnier it became. 
 She ended by leaving the table and retiring precipi- 
 tately to her own tiny room in the lean-to where she 
 buried her face as deep as it would go in a puffy pillow 
 of wild duck feathers. 
 
 He, poor devil, could not be expected to know just 
 what had amused her so; he did know that it some- 
 how concerned himself, however. He took up his posi- 
 tion mentally behind the wall of aloofness which 
 stood between himself and an unfriendly world, and 
 when Billy Louise came out later to help with the 
 dishes, he was sitting absorbed in a book. 
 
 Billy Louise got out her algebra and a slate and be- 
 gan to ponder the problem of a much-handicapped goat's 
 feeding-ground. Ward Warren read and read and 
 read and never looked up from the pages. Never in 
 her life had she seen a man read as he read ; hungrily, 
 as a starved man eats ; rapidly, his eyes traveling like 
 a shuttle across the page; down, down flip a leaf 
 quickly and let the shuttle-glance go on. Billy Louise 
 let her slate, with the goat problem unsolved, lie in 
 her lap while she watched him. When she finally be- 
 came curious enough to decipher the name of the 
 book she had three or four in that dull, brown bind- 
 ing and saw that he was reading The Ring and ihe 
 Book, she felt stunned. She read Browning just as she 
 drank sage tea; it was supposed to be good for her. 
 Her English teacher had given her that book. She 
 never would have believed that any living human could 
 read it as Ward Warren was reading it now; avidly, 
 absorbedly, lost to his surroundings to her own pres-
 
 40 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 ence, if you please ! Billy Louise glanced at her mother. 
 That lady, having discovered that her guest's gloves 
 needed mending, was working over them with pieces 
 of Indian-tanned buckskin and beeswaxed thread, the 
 picture of domestic content. 
 
 Billy Louise sighed. She shifted her chair. She 
 got up and put a heavy chunk of wood on the fire and 
 glanced over her shoulder at the man to see if he were 
 going to take the hint and offer to help. She came 
 back and stood close to him while she selected, with 
 great deliberation, a book from the shelf beside his 
 head. And Ward Warren, perfectly normal and not 
 over twenty-five or so, pushed his chair out of her 
 way with a purely mechanical movement, and read 
 and read, and actually was too absorbed to feel her near- 
 ness. And he really was reading The Ring and the 
 Book; Billy Louise was rude enough to look over his 
 shoulder to make sure of that. She gave up, then, and 
 though she picked a book at random from the shelf, 
 she did not attempt to read it. She went to her room 
 and made it readj for their guest, and after that she 
 went to bed in her mother's room ; and she thought and 
 thought and did a lot of wondering about Life and 
 about Ward Warren. She heard him go to bed, after 
 a long while, and she wondered if he had finished the 
 book first. 
 
 The next morning the blizzard raged so that he 
 stayed as a matter of course. Peter Howling Dog had 
 not returned, so Warren did the chores and would not 
 let Billy Louise help with anything. He filled the 
 wood-box, piled great chunks of wood by the fireplace, 
 and saw that the water-pails were full to the icy brims.
 
 BOOK, BANNOCK, AND BED 41 
 
 lie talked a little, and Billy Louise discovered that he 
 was quick to see a joke, and that he simply could not 
 be caught napping, but had always a retort ready for 
 her. That was true until after dinner, when he picked 
 up a book again. When that happened, he was dead to 
 , orld bounded by the coulee walls, and he did not 
 show any symptoms of consciousness until he had* 
 reached the last page, just when the light was growing 
 Jim and blurring the lines so that he must hold the 
 pages within six inches of his eyes. He closed the 
 book with a long breath, placed it accurately upon the 
 .shelf where it had stood since Billy Louise came home 
 from school, and picked up his hat and gloves. It was 
 time to wade out through the snow and feed the stock 
 and bring in more wood. 
 
 " I wish we could get him to stay all winter, instead 
 of tliat Peter Howling Dog," Mrs. MacDonald said 
 anxiously, after he had gone out. " I just know Peter 's 
 off drinking. I don't think he 's a safe man to Have 
 around, Billy Louise. I did n't when you hired him. 
 I have n't felt easy a minute with him on the place. 
 I wish you 'd hire Mr. Warren, Billy Louise. He 's 
 nice and quiet " 
 
 " And he 's got a ranch of his own. He does n't 
 strike me as a man who wants a job milking two cows 
 and carrying slop to the pigs, mommie." 
 
 " Well, I 'd feel a lot easier if we had him instead 
 of that breed ; only we ain't even got the breed, half 
 the time. This is the third time he 's disappeared, in 
 the two months we 've had him. I really think you 
 ought to speak to Mr. Warren, Billy Louise." 
 
 " Speak to him yourself. You 're the one that wants
 
 42 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 him," Billy Louise answered somewhat sharply. She 
 adored her mother; but if she had to run the ranch, 
 she did wish her mother would not interfere and give 
 advice just at the wrong time. 
 
 " Well, you need n't be cross about it ; you know 
 yourself that Peter can't be depended on a minute. 
 There he went off yesterday and never fed the pigs 
 their noon slop, and I had to carry it out myself. And 
 my lumbago has bothered me ever since, just like it 
 was going to give me another spell. You can't be here 
 all the time, Billy Louise leastways you ain't; and 
 Peter " 
 
 " Oh, good gracious, mommie ! I told you to hire 
 the man if you want him. Only Ward Warren 
 isn't " 
 
 Ward Warren pushed open the door and looked from 
 one to the other, his eyes two question marks. " Is n't 
 what ? " he asked and shut the door behind him with 
 the air of one who is ready for anything. 
 
 " Is n't the kind of man who wants to hire out to do 
 chores," Billy Louise finished and looked at him 
 straight. " Are you ? Mommie wants to hire you." 
 
 " Oh. Well, I was just about to ask for the job, 
 anyway." He laughed, and the distrust left his eyes. 
 " As a matter of fact, I was going over to Jim Larson's 
 to hang out for the rest of the winter and get away 
 from the lonesomeness of the hills. The old Turk 's a 
 pretty good friend of mine. But it looks to me as if 
 you two needed something around that looks like a man 
 a heap more than Jim does. I know Peter Howling 
 Dog to a f are-you-well ; you '11 be all to the good if he 
 forgets to come back. So if you '11 stake me to a meal
 
 BOOK, BANNOCK, AND BED 43 
 
 now and then, and a place to sleep, I '11 be glad to see 
 you through the winter or until you get some white 
 man to take my place." He took up the two water- 
 pails and waited, glancing from one to the other with 
 that repressed smile which Billy Louise was beginning 
 to look for in his face. 
 
 Now that matters had approached the point of de- 
 cision, her mother stood looking at her helplessly, 
 waiting for her to speak. Billy Louise drew herself 
 up primly and ended by contradicting the action. She 
 gave him the sidelong glance which he was least pre- 
 pared to withstand though in justice to Billy Louise, 
 she was absolutely unconscious of its general effective- 
 ness and twisted her lips whimsically. 
 
 " We '11 stake you to a book, a bannock, and a bed 
 if you want to stay, Mr. Warren," she said quite soberly. 
 " Also to a pitchfork and an axe, if you like, and 
 regular wages." 
 
 His eyes went to her and steadied there with the 
 intent expression in them. " Thanks. Cut out the 
 wages, and I '11 take the offer just as it stands," he 
 told her and pulled his hat farther down on his head. 
 " She 's going to be one stormy night, lay-dees," he 
 added in quite another tone, on his way to the door. 
 " Five o'clock by the town clock, and al-11 's well ! " 
 This last in still another tone, as he pushed out against 
 the swooping wind and pulled the door shut with a 
 slam. They heard him whistling a shrill, rollicking 
 air on his way to the creek ; at least, it sounded rollick- 
 ing, the way he whistled it. 
 
 " That 's The Old Chisholm Trail he 's whistling," 
 Billy Louise observed under her breath, smiling remi-
 
 44 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 niscently. " The very song I used to pretend he always 
 sang when he came down the canyon to rescue Minervy 
 and me ! But of course I knew all the time he 's a 
 cowboy; it said so " 
 
 The whistling broke and he began to sing at the top 
 of a clear, strong-lunged voice, that old, old trail song 
 beloved of punchers the West over : 
 
 " Oh, it 's cloudy in the West and a-lookin' like rain, 
 And my damned old slicker 's in the wagon again, 
 Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a, youpy-a, 
 Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a! " 
 
 " What did you say, Billy Louise ? I 'm sure it 's a 
 comfort to have him here, and you see he was glad and 
 willing " 
 
 But Billy Louise was holding the door open half an 
 inch, listening and slipping back into the child-world 
 wherein Ward Warren came singing down the canyon 
 to rescue her and Minervy. The words came gustily 
 from the creek down the slope: 
 
 " No chaps, no slicker, and a-pourin' down rain, 
 And I swear by the Lord I '11 never night-herd again, 
 Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a, youpy-a, 
 Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a! 
 
 " Feet in the stirrups and seat in the saddle, 
 I hung and rattled with them long-horn cattle, 
 Coma ti yi " 
 
 " Do shut the door, Billy Louise ! What you want to 
 stand there like that for ? And the wind freezing every- 
 thing inside ! I can feel a terrible draught on my feet 
 and ankles, and you know what that leads to." 
 
 So Billy Louise closed the door and laid another
 
 BOOK, BANNOCK, AND BED 45 
 
 alder root on the coals in the fireplace, the while her 
 mind was given over to dreamy speculations, and the 
 words of that old trail song ran on in her mejnory 
 though she could 110 longer hear him singing. Her 
 mother talked on about Peter and the storm and this 
 man who had ridden straight from the land of day- 
 dreams to her door, but the girl was not listening. 
 
 " Now ain't you relieved, yourself, that he 's going 
 to stay?" 
 
 Billy Louise, kneeling on the hearth and staring 
 abstractedly into the fire, came back with a jerk to 
 reality. The little smile that had been in her eyes 
 and on her lips fled back with the dreams that had 
 brought it. She gave her shoulders an impatient 
 twitch and got up. 
 
 " Oh I guess he '11 be more agreeable to have 
 around than Peter," she admitted taciturnly; which 
 was as close to her real opinion of the man as a mere 
 mother might hope to come.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 WARD WARREN sat before the fireplace with 
 a cigarette long gone cold in his fingers and 
 stared into the blaze until the blaze died to bright- 
 glowing coals, and the coals filmed and shrank down 
 into the bed of ashes. Billy Louise had spoken to him 
 twice, and he had not answered. She had swept all 
 around him, and he had shifted his feet out of her 
 way, and later his chair, like a man in his sleep who 
 turns from an unaccustomed light or draws the covers 
 over shoulders growing chilled, without any real con- 
 sciousness of what he does. Billy Louise put away the 
 broom, hung the dustpan on its nail behind the door, and 
 stood looking at Ward curiously and with some resent- 
 ment; this was not the first time he had gone into fits 
 of abstraction as deep as his absorption in the books 
 lie read so hungrily. He had been at the Wolverine a 
 month, and they were pretty well acquainted by now 
 and inclined to friendliness when Ward threw off his 
 moodiness and his air of holding himself ready for 
 some affront which he seemed to expect. But for all 
 that the distrust never quite left his eyes, and there 
 were times like this when he was absolutely oblivious 
 to her presence. 
 
 Billy Louise suddenly lost patience. She stooped 
 and picked up a bit of bark the size of her thumb and
 
 " USED FOR A FOOTBALL " 47 
 
 threw it at Ward, with a little, vexed twist of her lips. 
 She had a fine accuracy of aim she hit him on the 
 nape of the neck, just where his hair came down in a 
 queer little curly " cow-lick " in the middle. 
 
 Ward jumped up and whirled, and when he faced 
 Billy Louise he had a gun gripped in the fingers that 
 had held the cigarette so loosely. In his eyes was the 
 glare which a man turns upon his deadliest enemy, per- 
 haps, but seldom indeed upon a girl. So they faced 
 each other, while Billy Louise backed against the wall 
 and took two sharp breaths. 
 
 Ward relaxed; a shamed flush reddened his whole 
 face. He shoved the gun back inside the belt of his 
 trousers Billy Louise had never dreamed that he 
 carried any weapon save his haughty aloofness of man- 
 ner and with a little snort of self-disgust dropped 
 back into the chair. N He did not stare again into the 
 fire, however; he folded his arms upon the high chair- 
 back and laid his face down upon them, like a woman 
 who is hurt to the point of tears and yet will not weep. 
 His booted feet were thrust toward the dying coals, his 
 whole attitude spoke of utter desolation of a loneli- 
 ness beyond words. 
 
 Billy Louise set her teeth hard together to keep back 
 the tears of sympathy. Suffering of any sort always 
 wrung the tender heart of her. But suffering like this 
 never in her life had she seen anything like it. She 
 had seen her father angry, discouraged, morose. She 
 had seen men fight. She had soothed her mother's 
 grief, which expressed itself in tears and lamentations. 
 But this hidden hurt, this stoical suffering that she had 
 seen often and often in Ward's eyes and that sent his
 
 48 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 head down now upon his arms She went to him and 
 laid her two hands on his shoulders without even think- 
 ing that this was the first time she had ever touched 
 him. 
 
 " Don't ! " she said, half whispering so that she would 
 not waken her mother, in bed with an attack of lum- 
 bago. "I I did n't know. Ward, listen to me ! 
 Whatever it is, can't you tell me? You I'm your 
 friend. Don't look as if you you had n't a friend 
 on earth ! " 
 
 Still he did not move or give any sign that he heard. 
 Billy Louise had no thought of coquetry. Her heart 
 ached with pity and a longing to help him. She slid 
 one hand up and pinched his ear, just as she would 
 playfully tweak the ear of a child. 
 
 " Ward, you must n't. I Ve seen you think and 
 think and look as if you had n't a friend on earth. 
 You must n't. I suppose you Ve got loffc of friends 
 who 'd stand by you through anything. Anyway, 
 you Ve got me, and I understand all about it." 
 She whispered those last words, and her heart thumped 
 heavily with trepidation after she had spoken. 
 
 Ward raised his head, caught one of her hands and 
 held it fast while he looked deep into her eyes. He 
 was searching, questioning, measuring, and he was 
 doing it without uttering a word. The plummet dropped 
 straight into the clear, sweet depths of her soul. If it 
 did not reach the bottom, he was satisfied with the 
 soundings he took. He drew a deep breath and gave 
 her hand a little squeeze and let it go. 
 
 " Did I scare you ? I 'm sorry," he said, speaking 
 in a hushed tone because of the woman in the next
 
 " USED FOR A FOOTBALL " 49 
 
 room. " I was thinking about a man I may meet some 
 day ; and if I do meet him, the chances are I '11 kill 
 him. I did n't I forgot where I was " He 
 threw out a hand in a gesture that amply completed 
 explanation and apology and fumbled in his pocket for 
 tobacco and papers. Abstractedly he began the making 
 of a cigarette. 
 
 Billy Louise put wood on the fire, pulled up a squar2, 
 calico-padded stool, and sat down. She waited, and 
 she had the wisdom to wait in complete silence. 
 
 Ward leaned forward with a twig in his hand, got 
 it ablaze, and lighted his cigarette. He did not look 
 at Billy Louise until he had taken a whiff or two. 
 Then he stared at her for a full minute, and ended by 
 flipping the charred twig playfully into her lap, and 
 laughing a little because she jumped. 
 
 " What made you catch your breath when I told my 
 name that night I came ( " he asked quizzically, but 
 with a tensity behind the lightness of his tone and be- 
 hind the little smile in his eyes as well. " Where had 
 you ever heard of me before ? " 
 
 Billy Louise gasped again, sent a lightning-thought 
 into the future, and answered more casually than she 
 had hoped she could. 
 
 ;< When I was a kid I ran across the name some- 
 where and I used it to play with " 
 
 " Yes ? " 
 
 '* You know I was always making believe differ- 
 ent things. I never had anyone to play with in my 
 life, so I had a pretend-girl, named Minervy. And I 
 had you. I used to have you rescue us from Indians 
 and things; but mostly you were a road-agent or a
 
 50 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 robber, and when you were n't holding me or Minervy 
 for ransom, I was generally leading you over some most 
 ungodly trails, saving you from posses and things. I 
 used," said Billy Louise, forcing a laugh, " to have 
 some wild old times with you, believe me! So when 
 you told your name, why it was just like you 
 know ; it was exactly like having a doll come to life ! " 
 
 He eyed her fixedly until she tingled with nervous- 
 ness. 
 
 " Yes and what about understanding all about 
 it 2 Do you ? " He drew in his under lip, let it go, 
 and drew it again between his teeth, while he frowned 
 at her thoughtfully. " Do you understand all about 
 it ? " he insisted, leaning toward her and never once 
 taking that boring gaze from her face. 
 
 "I well, I do some of it anyway." Billy 
 Louise lifted a hand spasmodically to her throat. 
 This was digging deeper into the agonies of life than 
 she had ever gone before. " What was in the paper," 
 she whispered later, as if his eyes were drawing it 
 from her by force. 
 
 " What was that ? What did it say ? " 
 
 "I I what difference does it make, what it 
 said ? " Billy Louise turned imploring eyes upon him. 
 Her breath was coming fast and uneven. " It does n't 
 matter to me in the least. It did n't say much. 
 I can't tell exactly " She was growing white 
 around the mouth. The horror of being compelled to 
 say, out loud and to him! 
 
 " I did n't know there was a woman in the world 
 like you," Ward said irrelevantly and looked into the 
 fire. " I thought women were just soft things a man
 
 " USED FOR A FOOTBALL " 51 
 
 had to take care of and carry along through life, a 
 dead weight when they were n't worse. I never knew 
 a woman could be a friend the kind of friend a man 
 can be." He threw his cigarette into the fire and 
 watched the paper shrivel swiftly and the tobacco turn 
 into a thin/ blue smoke-spiral. 
 
 " Life 's a queer thing," he said, taking a different 
 angle. " I started out with big notions about the 
 things I'd do. Maybe I started wrong, but for a kid 
 with nobody to point the trail for him, I don't think 
 I did so worse till old Dame Fortune spotted me in 
 the crowd and proceeded to use me for a football." He 
 leaned an elbow on one knee and stared hard at a burn- 
 ing brand that was getting ready to fall and send up a 
 stream of sparks. Then he turned his head quite unex- 
 pectedly and looked at Billy Louise. " What was it 
 you read ? " he asked abruptly. 
 
 "I don't like to say it," she whispered un- 
 steadily. 
 
 " Well, you need n't. I '11 say it for you, when I 
 come to it. There 7 s a lot before that." 
 
 Ward Warren had never before opened his soul to 
 any human; not completely. Perhaps, sitting that 
 evening in the deepening dusk, with the firelight light- 
 ing swiftly the brooding face of the girl and afterward 
 veiling it softly with shadows, perhaps even then there 
 were desolate places in his life which his words did 
 not touch. But so much as a man may put into words, 
 Ward told her ; more, a great deal more, than he would 
 ever tell to any other woman as long as he lived. More 
 perhaps than he would ever tell to any man. And in 
 it all there was no word of love. It was of what lay
 
 52 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 behind him that he talked. The low, even murmur 
 of his voice was broken by long, brooding silences, when 
 the two stared into the shifting flames and saw there the 
 things his words had conjured. Sometimes the eyes of 
 Billy Louise were soft with sympathy. Sometimes 
 they were wide and held the light of horror. Once, 
 with a small sob that had no tears, she reached out and 
 clutched his arm. " Oh, don't ! " she gasped. " Don't 
 go on telling I I can't bear to listen to that ! " 
 
 " It is n't nice for a woman to listen to, I guess/* 
 Ward gritted. " I know it was hell to stand, but 
 He was silent so long after that, and his eyes grew so 
 intent and so somber while he stared, that Billy Louise 
 pulled at his sleeve to recall him. 
 
 " Skip that part and tell me " 
 
 Ward took up the story and told her much; more 
 than she had ever dreamed could be. I can't repeat 
 any of it; what he said was for Billy Louise to know 
 and none other. 
 
 It was late when she finally rose from the stool 
 and lighted the lamp because her mother woke and 
 called to her. Ward went out to turn the horses into 
 the stable and fasten the door. He should have shel- 
 tered them two hours before. Billy Louise should long 
 ago have made tea and toast for her mother, for that 
 matter. But when life's big, bitter problems confront 
 one, little things are usually forgotten. 
 
 They came back to everyday realities, though the 
 spell which Ward's impulsive unburdening had woven 
 still wrapped them in that close companionship of com- 
 plete understanding. They played checkers for an 
 hour or so and then went to bed. Billy Louise lay in
 
 " USED FOR A FOOTBALL " 53 
 
 a waking nightmare because of all the hard things 
 she had heard about life. Ward stared up into the 
 dark and could not lose himself in sleep, because he had 
 opened the door upon the evil places in his memory 
 and let out all the trooping devils that lived there. 
 
 After that, though there was never any word of love 
 between them, Billy Louise, with the sure instinct of 
 a woman innately pure, watched unobtrusively for 
 signs of those fits of bitter brooding; watched and drove 
 them off with various weapons of her own. Sometimes 
 she cheerfully declared that she was bored to death, and 
 was n't Ward just dying for a game of " rob casino " ? 
 Sometimes she simply teased him into retaliation. Fre- 
 quently she insisted that he repeat the things he had 
 learned by heart, of poetry or humorous prose, for his 
 memory was almost uncanny in its tenacity. She dis- 
 covered quite early, and by accident, that she had only 
 to shake her head in a certain way and declaim : " Ali, 
 Tarn, noo, Tarn, thou 'It get thy faring In hell they '11 
 roast thee like a herring," she had only to say that 
 to make him laugh and repeat the whole of Tarn 
 O'Shanter's Ride with a perfectly devilish zest for 
 poor Tarn's misfortunes, and an accent which made her 
 suspect who were his ancestors. 
 
 Billy Louise meant only to wean him from his bitter- 
 ness against Life, and to convince him, by a somewhat 
 roundabout method since at heart she was scared to 
 death of his aloofness, that he was not " old lady For- 
 tune's football " as he sometimes pessimistically de- 
 clared. At thirteen she had mixed him with her 
 dreams and led him by difficult trails to safety from 
 the imaginary enemies that pursued him. At nineteen
 
 54 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 she unconsciously mixed him with her life and led 
 nim more surely than in her dreams, and by a far 
 more difficult trail, had she only known it safe away 
 from the devils of memory and a distrust of life that 
 pursued him more relentlessly than any human foe. 
 
 She only meant to wean him from pessimism and 
 rebuild within him a healthy appetite for life. If she 
 did more than that, she did not know it then ; for Ward 
 Warren had learned, along with other hard lessons, the 
 art of keeping his thoughts locked safely away, and of 
 using his face as a mask to hide even the doorway to 
 his real self. Only his eyes turned traitors sometimes 
 when he looked at Billy Louise; though she, being a 
 somewhat self-centered young person, never quite read 
 what they tried to betray. 
 
 She took him up the canyon and showed him her 
 cave and Minervy's. And she had the doubtful satis- 
 faction of seeing him doubled over the saddle-horn in a 
 paroxysm of laughter when she led him to the historical 
 washout and recounted the feat of the dead Indians 
 with which he had made a safe passing for her. 
 
 " Well, they did it in history," she defended at last, 
 her cheeks redder than was perfectly normal. " I read 
 about it at Waterloo when the Duke of Welling- 
 ton was n't it ? You need n't laugh as if it could n't, 
 be done. It was that sunken-road business put it into 
 my head in the first place; and I think you ought to 
 feel flattered." 
 
 " I do," gasped Ward, wiping his eyes. " Say, I was 
 some bandit, was n't I, William Louisa ? " 
 
 Billy Louise looked at him sidewise. " No, yon 
 weren't any bandit at all then. You were a kind
 
 " USED FOR A FOOTBALL " 55 
 
 scout, that time. I was here, all surrounded by In- 
 dians and saying the Lord's prayer with my hair all 
 down my back like mommie's Rock of Ages picture 
 will you shut up laughing ? and you came riding up 
 that draw over there on a big, black horse named Sul- 
 tan (You need n't snort ; I still think Sultan 's a dandy 
 name for a horse!). And you hollered to me to get 
 behind that rock, over there. And I quit at * Forgive 
 us our debts ' daddy always had so many ! and 
 hiked for the rock. And you commenced shooting 
 Oh, I 'm not going to tell you a single other pretend ! " 
 She sulked then, which was quite as diverting as the 
 most hair-raising " pretend " she had ever told him and 
 held Ward's attention unflaggingly until they were 
 half way home. 
 
 " Sing the Chisholm Trail/' she commanded, when 
 her temper was sunshiny again. This had been a par- 
 ticularly moody day for Ward, and Billy Louise felt 
 that extra effort was required to rout the memory-devils. 
 " Daddy knew a little of it, and old Jake Summers 
 used to sing more, but I never did hear it all." 
 
 " Ladies don't, as a general thing," Ward replied, 
 biting his lips. 
 
 ''Why? I know there's about forty verses, and 
 some of them are kind of sweary ones; but go ahead 
 and sing it. I don't mind damn now and then." 
 
 This sublime innocence was also diverting, even to a 
 man haunted by the devils of memory. Ward's lips 
 twitched, and a flush warmed his cheek-bones at the 
 mere thought of singing it all in her presence. " I '11 
 sing all of Sam Bass, if you like," he temporized, with 
 a grin.
 
 56 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " Oh, I hate Sam Bass! We had a Dutchman work- 
 ing for us when I was just a kid, and he was forever 
 bawling out: ' Sa-am Pass was porn in Injiaay, it was-s 
 hiss natiff ho-o-ome ! ' 
 
 Billy Louise was a pretty good mimic. She had 
 Ward doubled over the horn again and shouting so 
 that the canyon walls roared echoes for three full min- 
 utes. " I 've always wanted to hear the Chisholm Trail. 
 I know how it was sung from Mexico north on the old 
 cattle-trails, and how every ambitious puncher who had 
 enough imagination and could make a rhyme, added a 
 verse or so, till it 's really a a classic of the cow- 
 camps." 
 
 " Ye-es it sure is all that." Ward eyed her fur- 
 tively. 
 
 " And with that memory of yours, I simply know 
 that you can sing every single word of it," Billy Louise 
 went on pitilessly and innocently. " You 're a cow- 
 puncher yourself, and you must have heard it all, at 
 one time and another; and I don't believe you ever 
 forgot a thing in your life." She caught her breath 
 there, conscience-stricken, and added hastily and im- 
 periously, "So go on begin at the beginning and 
 sing it all. I '11 keep tab and see if you sing forty 
 verses." And she prompted coaxingly: 
 
 " Come along, boys, and listen to my tale, 
 I '11 tell you of my troubles on the old Chisholm trail, 
 Coma ti yi " 
 
 and nodded her head approvingly when Ward took up 
 the ditty where she left off and sang it with the rol- 
 licking enthusiasm which only a man who has soothed
 
 " USED FOR A FOOTBALL " 57 
 
 restless cattle on a stormy night can put into the dog- 
 gerel. 
 
 lie did not sing the whole forty verses, for good and 
 sufficient reasons best known to punchers themselves. 
 But, with swift, shamed skipping of certain lines and 
 some hasty revisions, he actually did sing thirty, and 
 Billy Louise was so engrossed that she forgot to count- 
 them and never suspected the omissions; for some of 
 the verses were quite " sweary " enough to account for 
 his hesitation. 
 
 The singing of those thirty verses brought a remi- 
 niscent mood upon the singer. For the rest of the way, 
 which they rode at a walk, Ward sat very much upon 
 one side of the saddle, with his body facing Billy Louise 
 and his foot dangling free of the stirrup, and told her 
 tales of trail-herds, and the cow-camps, and of funny 
 things that had happened on the range. His "I re- 
 member one time " opened the door to a more fascinat- 
 ing world than Billy Louise's dream-world, because this 
 other world was real. 
 
 So, from pure accident, she hit upon the most effec- 
 tive of all weapons with which to fight the nfemory- 
 devils. She led Ward to remembering the pleasanter 
 parts of his past life and to telling her of them. 
 
 When spring came at last, and he rode regretfully 
 back to his claim on Mill Creek, he was not at all the 
 morose Ward Warren who had ridden down to the 
 Wolverine that stormy night in January. The distrust 
 had left his eyes, and that guarded remoteness was 
 gone from his manner. He thought and he planned as 
 other men thought and planned, and looked into the 
 future eagerly, and dreamed dreams of his own ; dreams
 
 58 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE. 
 
 that brought the hidden smile often to his lips and 
 his eyes. 
 
 Still, the thing those dreams were built upon was 
 yet locked tight in his heart, and not even Billy Louise, 
 whose instinct was so keen and so sure in all things else, 
 knew anything of them or of the bright-hued hope they 
 were built upon. Fortune's football was making ready 
 to fight desperately to become captain of the game, that 
 he might be something more to Billy Louise.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 MAETHY BURIES HER DEAD AND GREETS HER NEPHEW - 
 
 JASE did not move or give his customary, querulous 
 grunt when Marthy nudged him at daylight, one 
 morning in mid-April. Marthy gave another poke with 
 her elbow and lay still, numbed by a sudden dread. 
 She moved cautiously out of the bed and half across 
 the cramped room before she turned her head toward 
 him. Then she stood still and looked and looked, her 
 hard face growing each moment more pinched and 
 stony and gray. 
 
 <ase had died while the coyotes were yapping their 
 dawn-song up on the rim of the Cove. He lay rigid 
 under the coarse, gray blanket, the flesh of his face 
 drawn close to the bones, his skimpy, gray beard tilted 
 upward. 
 
 Marthy 's jaw set into a harsher outline than ever. 
 She dressed with slow, heavy movements and went out 
 and fed the stock. In stolid calm she did the milking 
 and turned out the cows into the pasture. She gath- 
 ered an apron full of chips and started a fire, just as 
 she had done every morning for twenty-nine years, and 
 she put the coffee-pot on the greasy stove and boiled 
 the brew of yesterday which was also her habit. 
 
 She sat for some time with her- head leaning upon 
 her grimj hand and stared unseeingly out upon a
 
 60 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 peach-tree in full bloom, and at a pair of busy robins 
 who had chosen a convenient crotch for their nest. 
 Finally she rose stiffly, as if she had grown older 
 within the last hour, and went outside to the place 
 where she had been mending the irrigating ditch the 
 day before; she knocked the wet sand off the shovel 
 she had left sticking in the soft bank and went out of 
 the yard and up the slope toward the rock wall. 
 
 On a tiny, level place above the main ditch and just 
 under the wall, Marthy began to dig, setting her broad, 
 flat foot uncompromisingly upon the shoulder of the 
 shovel and sending it deep into the yellow soil. She 
 worked slowly and methodically and steadily, just as 
 she did everything else. When she had dug down as 
 deep as she could and still manage to climb out, and 
 had the hole wide enough and long enough, she got 
 awkwardly to the grassy surface and sat for a long while 
 upon a rock, staring dumbly at the gaunt, brown hills 
 across the river. 
 
 She returned to the cabin at last, and with the 
 manner of one who dreads doing what must be done, 
 she went in where Jase lay stiff and cold under the 
 blankets. 
 
 Early that afternoon, Marthy went staggering up the 
 slope, wheeling Jase's body before her on the creaky, 
 Lome-made wheelbarrow. In the same harsh, primitive 
 manner in which they both had lived, Marthy buried 
 her dead. And though in life she had given him few 
 words save in command or upbraiding, with never a 
 hint of love to sweeten the days for either, yet she 
 went whimpering away from that grave. She broke off 
 three branches of precious peach blossoms and carried
 
 MARTHY BURIES HER DEAD 61 
 
 them up the slope. She stuck them upright in the 
 lumpy soil over Jase's head and stood there a long 
 while with tear-streaked face, staring down at the grave 
 and at the nodding pink blossoms. 
 
 tf 
 
 Billy Louise rode singing down the rocky trail 
 through the deep, narrow gorge, to where the hawthorn^ 
 and choke-cherries hid the opening to the cove. Just 
 on the edge of the thickest fringe, she pulled up and 
 broke off tender branches of cherry bloom, then went 
 on, still singing softly to herself because the air was 
 sweet with spring odors, the sunshine lay a fresh 
 yellow upon the land, and because the joy of life was 
 in her blood and, like the birds, she had no other means 
 of expression at hand. Blue's feet sank to the fet- 
 locks in the rich, black soil of the little meadow that 
 lay smooth to the tumbling sweep of the river behind 
 its own little willow fringe. His ears perked forward, 
 his eyes rolling watchfully for strange sights and 
 sounds, he stepped softly forward, ready to wheel at 
 the slightest alarm and gallop back up the gorge to 
 more familiar ground. It was long since Billy Louise 
 had turned his head down the rocky trail, and Blue 
 liked little the gloom of the gorge and the sudden change 
 to soft, black soil that stopped just short of being boggy 
 in the wet places. Where the trail led into a marshy 
 crossing of the big, irrigating ditch that brought the 
 stream from far up the gorge to water meadow and 
 orchard, Blue halted and cast a look of disapproval 
 back at his rider. Billy Louise stopped singing and 
 laughed at him. 
 
 " I guess you can go where a cow can go, you silly
 
 62 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 thing. Mud 's a heap easier than lava rock, if you 
 only knew it, Blue. Get along with you." 
 
 Blue lowered his head, snuffed suspiciously at the 
 water-filled tracks, and would have turned back. Mud 
 he despised instinctively, since he had nearly mired on 
 the creek bank when he was a sucking colt. 
 
 " Blue ! Get across that ditch, or I '11 beat you to 
 death ! " The voice of Billy Louise was soft with a 
 caressing note at the end, so that the threat did not 
 sound very savage, after all. She sniffed at the branch 
 of cherry blossoms and reined the horse back to face 
 the ditch. And Blue, who had a will of his own, 
 snorted and wheeled, this time in frank rebellion against 
 her command. 
 
 " Oh, will you ? Well, you '11 cross that ditch, you 
 know, sooner or later so you might just as well 
 Blue reared and whirled again, plunging two rods back 
 toward the cherry thicket. 
 
 Billy Louise set her teeth against her lower lip, slid 
 her rawhide quirt from slim wrist to firm hand-grip, 
 and proceeded to match Blue's obstinacy with her own ; 
 and since the obstinacy of Billy Louise was stronger 
 and finer and backed by a surer understanding of the 
 thing she was fighting against, Blue presently lifted 
 himself, leaped the ditch in one clean jump, and 
 snorted when he sank nearly to his knees in the soft, 
 black soil beyond. 
 
 From there to the pink drift of peach bloom against 
 the dull brown of the bluff, Blue galloped angrily, leav- 
 ing deep, black prints in the soft green of the meaddw. 
 So they came headlong upon Marthy, just as she was
 
 MARTHY BURIES HER DEAD 63 
 
 knocking the yellow clay of the grave from her irrigat- 
 ing shovel against the pole fence of her pig-pen. 
 
 u Why, Marthj ! " Once before in her life 'Billy 
 Louise had seen Marthy's chin quivering like that, and 
 big, slow tears sliding down the network of lines on 
 Marthy's leather/ cheeks. With a painful slump her 
 spirits went heavy with her sympathy. " Marthy ! " 
 
 She knew without a word of explanation just what 
 had happened. From Marthy's bent shoulders sfye 
 knew, and from her tear-stained face, and from the yel- 
 low soil clinging still to the shovel in her hand. The 
 Avide eyes of Billy Louise sent seeking glances up the 
 slope where the soil was yellow; went to the long, raw 
 ridge under the wall, with the peach blossoms standing 
 pitifully awry upon the western end. Her eyes filled 
 with tears. " Oh, Marthy ! When was it ? " 
 
 " In the night, sometime, I guess." Marthy's voice 
 had a harsh huskiness. " He was gone when I 
 woke up. Well he 's better off than I be. I dunno 
 what woulda become of him if I 'd went first." There, 
 at last, was a note of tenderness, stifled though it was 
 and fleeting. " Git down, Billy Louise, and come in. 
 I been kinda lookin' for yuh to come, ever sence the 
 weather opened up. How 's your maw ? " 
 
 Spoken sympathy was absolutely impossible in the 
 face of that stoical acceptance of life's harsh law. 
 Marthy turned toward the gate, taking the shovel and 
 the wheelbarrow in with her. Billy Louise glanced 
 furtively at the raw, yellow ridge under the rock wall 
 and rode on to the stable. She pulled off the saddle 
 and bridle and turned Blue into the corral before she 
 went slowly and somewhat reluctantly to the
 
 64 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 cabin, squat, old, and unkempt like its mistress, but 
 buried deep in the renewed sweetness of bloom-time. 
 
 " The fruit 's comin' on early this year," said Marthy 
 from the doorway, her hands on her hips. " They 's 
 goin' to be lots of it, too, if we don't git a killin' frost." 
 So she closed the conversational door upon her sorrow 
 and pointed the way to trivial, every-day things. 
 
 " What are you going to do now, Marthy ? " Billy 
 Louise was perfectly capable of opening a conversational 
 door, even when it had been closed decisively in her 
 face. " You can't get on here alone, you know. Did 
 you send for that nephew ? If you have n't, you must 
 hire somebody till " 
 
 " He 's comin'. That letter you sent over last month 
 was from him. I dunno when he '11 git here ; he 's liable 
 to come most any time. I ain't going to hire nobody. 
 I kin git along alone. I might as well of been alone ' 
 Even harsh Marthy hesitated and did not finish the 
 sentence that would have put a slight upon her dead. 
 
 " I '11 stay to-night, anyway," said Billy Louise. 
 " Just a week ago I hired John Pringle and that little 
 breed wife of his for the summer. I could n't afford 
 it," she added, with a small sigh, " but Ward had to go 
 back to his claim, and mommie needs someone in the 
 house. She has n't been a bit well, all winter. And 
 I 've turned all the stock out for the summer and have 
 to do a lot of riding on them ; it 's that or let them 
 scatter all over the country and then have to hire a 
 rep for every round-up. I can't afford that, I have n't 
 got cattle enough to pay; and I like to ride, anyway. 
 I've got them pretty well located along the creek, up 
 at the head of the canyons. The grass is coming on
 
 MARTHY BURIES HER DEAD 65 
 
 fine, so they don't stray much. Are you going to turn 
 your cattle out, Marthy ? I see you have n't yet." 
 
 " No, I ain't yit. I dunno. I was going to sell 'em 
 down to jest what the pasture '11 keep. I 'm gittin' too 
 old to look^ after 'em. But I dunno When Charlie 
 gits here, mebby " 
 
 " Oh, is that the nephew ? I did n't know his name."" 
 Billy Louise was talking aimlessly to keep her thoughts 
 away from the pitifulness of the sordid little tragedy in 
 this beauty-spot and to drive that blank, apathetic look 
 from Marthy's hard eyes. 
 
 " Charlie Fox, his name is. I hope he turns out a 
 good worker. I 've never had a chance to git ahead any ; 
 but if Charlie '11 jest take holt, I '11 mebby git some 
 comfort outa life yit." 
 
 " He ought to, I 'm sure. And everyone thinks 
 you 've done awfully well, Marthy. What can I do 
 now? Wash the dishes and straighten things up, I 
 guess." 
 
 " You need n't do nothin' you ain't a mind to do, 
 Billy Louise. I don't want you to think you got to slop 
 around washin' my dirty dishes. I 'm goin' on down 
 into the medder and work on a ditch I 'm puttin' in. 
 You jest do what you 're a mind to." She picked 
 up the shovel and went off down the jungly path, her- 
 self the ugliest object in the Cove, where she had 
 created so much beauty. 
 
 Again the sympathetic soul of Billy Louise had be- 
 trayed her into performing an extremely disagreeable 
 task. Shudderingly she looked into the unpleasant 
 bedroom, and comprehending all of the sordidness of 
 the tragedy, spent half an hour with her teeth set hard
 
 66 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 together while she dragged out dingy blankets and hung 
 them over the fence under a voluptuous plum-tree. The 
 next hour was so disagreeably employed that she won- 
 dered afterward how even her sympathy could have 
 driven her to the things she did. She carried more 
 water, after she had scrubbed that bedroom, and opened 
 the window with the aid of the hammer, and set the 
 tea-kettle on to heat the dish-water. Then, because her 
 mind was full of poor, dead Jase, she took the branches 
 of wild cherry and hawthorn blossoms she had gathered 
 coming down the gorge and went up the slope to lay 
 them on his grave. 
 
 She sat down on the rock where Marthy had rested 
 after digging the grave, and with her chin in her two 
 cupped palms, stared out across the river at the heaped 
 bluffs and down at the pink-and-white patch of fruit- 
 trees. She was trying, as the young will always try, 
 to solve the riddle of life ; and she was baffled and un- 
 happy because she could not find any answer at all that 
 pleased both her ideals and her reason. And then she 
 heard a man's voice lifted up in riotous song, and she 
 turned her head toward the opening of the gorge and 
 listened, her eyes brightening while she waited. 
 
 " Foot in the stirrup and hand on the horn, 
 Best damn cowboy ever was born, 
 Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a, youpy-a, 
 Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a! " 
 
 Billy Louise, with her chin still in her palms, smiled 
 and hummed the tune under her breath ; that shows how 
 quickly we throw off the burdens of our neighbors. 
 " Wonder what he 's doing down here ? " she asked her- 
 self, and smiled again.
 
 MARTHY BURIES HER DEAD 67 
 
 " I '11 sell my outfit soon as I can, 
 I won't punch cattle for no damn* man, 
 Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a, youpy-a, 
 Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a! 
 
 " I 'm goin' back to town to draw my money, 
 I 'm'going back to town, to see my honey, 
 Coma ti yi " 
 
 Ward came into sight through the little meadow, rid- 
 ing slowly, with both hands clasped over the horn of the 
 saddle, his hat tilted back on his head, and his whole 
 attitude one of absolute content with life. He saw 
 Billy Louise almost as soon as she glimpsed him and 
 she had been watching that bit of road quite closely. He 
 flipped the reins to one side and turned from the trail 
 to ride straight up the slope to where she was. 
 
 Billy Louise, with a self-reproachful glance at the 
 grave, ran down the slope to meet him an unexpected 
 welcome which made Ward's heart leap in his chest. 
 
 " Oh, Ward, for heaven's sake don't be singing that 
 come-all-ye at the top of your voice, like that. Don't 
 you " 
 
 " K~ow I was given to understand that you liked that 
 same come-all-ye. Have you been educating your musi- 
 cal taste in the last week, Miss William Louisa ? " 
 Ward stopped his horse before her, and with his hands 
 still clasped over the saddle-horn, looked down at her 
 with that hidden smile and something else. 
 
 <; Xo, I have n't. I don't have to educate myself to 
 the point wJiere I know the Chisholm Trail isn't a 
 proper kind of funeral hymn, Ward Warren." Billy 
 Louise glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice 
 instinctively, as we all do when death has come close 
 and stopped. " Jase died last night ; that 's his grave
 
 68 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 up there. Is n't it perfectly pitiful ? Poor old Marthy 
 was here all solitary alone with him. And Ward ! 
 She dug that grave her own self, and took him up and 
 buried him and, Ward ! She she wheeled him up 
 in the wheelbarrow! She had to, of course. Shp 
 could n't carry him. But is n't it awful ? " Her hands 
 were up, patting and smoothing the neck of his horse, 
 and her face was bent to hide the tears that stood in 
 her eyes, and the quiver of her mouth. 
 
 Ward drew in his lip, bit it, and let it go. He was 
 a man, and he had seen much of tragedy and trouble ; 
 also, he did not know Marthy or Jase. His chief 
 emotion was one of resentment against anything that 
 brought tears to Billy Louise ; she had not hidden them 
 from him ; they were the first and most important ele- 
 ment in that day's happenings, so far as he was con- 
 cerned. He leaned and flipped the end of his reins 
 lightly down on her bare head. 
 
 " William Louisa, if you cry about it, I '11 do 
 something shocking, most likely. Yes, it 's awful ; a 
 whole lot of life is awful. But it 's done, and Mrs. 
 Martha appears to be a woman with a whole lot of grit, 
 so the chances are she '11 carry her load like a man. 
 She '11 be horribly lonesome, down here ! They lived 
 alone, did n't they ? " 
 
 " Yes, and they did n't seem to love each other much." 
 Billy Louise was not one to gloss over hard facts, even 
 in the face of that grave." " Marthy was always kicking 
 about him, and he about her. But all the same they 
 belonged together; they had lived together more years 
 than we are old. And she 's going to miss him awfully." 
 
 Several minutes they stood there, talking, while Billy
 
 MARTHY BURIES HER DEAD 69 
 
 Louise patted the horse absently, and Ward looked down 
 at her and did not miss one little light or shadow in her 
 face. He had been alone a whole week, thinking o'f her, 
 remember, and his eyes were hungry to the point of 
 starvation. - 
 
 " You saw mommie, of course ; you came from 
 home ? " 
 
 " No, I did not. I got as far as the creek and saw 
 Blue's tracks coming down; so I just sort of trailed 
 along, seeing it was mommie's daughter I felt most 
 like talking to." 
 
 " Mommie's daughter " laughed a little and in- 
 stinctively made a change in the subject. She did not 
 see anything strange in the fact that Ward had observed 
 and recognized Blue's tracks coming into the gorge. 
 She would have observed and recognized instantly the 
 tracks made by his horse, anywhere. Those things come 
 natural to one who has lived much in the open; and 
 there is a certain individuality in the hoof-prints of 
 a horse, as any plainsman can testify. 
 
 " I 've got to go in and wash the dishes," she said, 
 stepping back from him. " Of course nothing was done 
 in the cabin, and I 've been doing a little house-cleaning. 
 I guess the dish-water is hot by this time if it has n't 
 all boiled away." 
 
 Ward, as a matter of course, tied his horse to the 
 fence and went into the cabin with her. He also asked 
 her to stake him to a dish-towel, which she did after a 
 good deal of rummaging. He stood with his hat on the 
 back of his head, a cigarette between his lips, and wiped 
 the dishes with much apparent enjoyment. He objected 
 strongly to Billy Louise's assertion that she meant to
 
 70 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 scrub the floor, but when he found her quite obdurate, 
 he changed his method without in the least degree yield- 
 ing his point, though for diplomatic reasons he ap- 
 peared to yield. 
 
 He carried water from the creek and filled the tea- 
 kettle, the big iron pot, and both pails. Then, when 
 Billy Louise had turned her back upon him, while she 
 looked in a dark corner for the mop, he suddenly seized 
 her under the arms and lifted her upon the table; and 
 before she had finished her astonished gaspings, he 
 caught up a pail of water and sloshed it upon the floor 
 under her. Then he grinned in his triumph. 
 
 " William Louisa, i ' yja get your feet wet, your 
 mommie will take a club to you," he reminded her 
 sternly. Whereupon he took the broom and proceeded 
 to give that floor a real man's scrubbing, refusing to 
 quarrel with Billy Louise, who scolded like a cross old 
 woman from the table except when she simply had 
 to stop and laugh heartily at his violent method f 
 cleaning. 
 
 Ward sloshed and swept and scrubbed. He dug into 
 the corners with a grim thoroughness that won reluctant 
 approbation from the young woman on the table with 
 her feet tucked under her, and he made her forget poor 
 old Jase up on the hillside. He scrubbed viciously be- 
 hind the door until the water was little better than a 
 thin, black mud. 
 
 " You want to come up to my claim some time," he 
 said, looking over his shoulder while he rested a minute. 
 " I '11 show you how a man keeps house, William Louisa. 
 Once a week I pile my two stools on the table, put the 
 cat up on the bunk and she looks just about as com-
 
 MARTHY BURIES HER DEAD 71 
 
 fortable and happy as mommie's daughter looks right 
 now and get busy with the broom and good creek 
 water." He resettled his hat on the back of his 'head 
 and went to work again. " Mill Creek goes dry down 
 below, on the days when little Wardie cleans his cabin/' 
 he assured her gravely, and damming up a muddy pool 
 with the broom, he yanked open the door and swept 
 out the water with a perfectly unnecessary flourish, 
 just because he happened to be in a very exuberant 
 mood. 
 
 Billy Louise gave a squeal of consternation and 
 then sat absolutely still, staring round-eyed through the 
 doorway. Ward stepped back even his composure 
 was slightly jarred and twisted his lips amusedly. 
 
 " Hello," he said, after a few blank seconds. " You 
 missed some of it, did n't you ? " His tone was mildly 
 commiserating. " Will you come in ? " 
 
 " N-o-o, thank you, I don't believe I will." The 
 speaker looked in, however, saw Billy Louise perched 
 upon the table, and took off his hat. He was well 
 plastered with dirty water that ran down and left 
 streaks of mud behind. " I must have gotten off the 
 road," he said. " I 'm looking for Mr. Jason Meilke's 
 ranch." 
 
 Billy Louise tucked her feet farther under her skirts 
 and continued to stare dumbly. Ward, glancing at her 
 from the corner of his eyes, stepped considerately be- 
 tween her and the stranger so that his broad shoulders 
 quite hid her from the man's curious stare. 
 
 " You Ve struck the right place," he said calmly. 
 " This is it." He picked up another pail of water and 
 sloshed it upon the wet floor to rinse off the mud.
 
 72 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " Is ah Mrs. Meilke in ? " One could not 
 accuse the young man of craning, but he certainly did 
 try to get another glimpse of the person on the table 
 and failed because of Ward. 
 
 " She 'a down in the meadow," Billy Louise mur- 
 mured. 
 
 " She 'a down in the meadow," Ward repeated to 
 the bespattered young man. " You just go down past 
 the stable and follow on down " he waved a hand 
 vaguely before he took up the broom again. " You '11 
 find her, all right," he added encouragingly 
 
 " Oh, Ward ! That must be Marthy's nephew. 
 What will he think?" 
 
 " Does it matter such ah a deuce of a lot what 
 he thinks ? " Ward went on with his interrupted 
 scrubbing. 
 
 " His name is Charlie Fox, and he 's been to col- 
 lege and he worked in a bank," Billy Louise went on 
 nervously. " He 's going to live here with Marthy 
 and run the ranch. What must he have thought ! To 
 have you sweep all that dirty water on him 
 
 " Oh, not all ! " Ward corrected cheerfully. " Quite 
 a lot missed him." 
 
 Billy Louise giggled. " What does he look like, 
 Ward ? You stood squarely in the way, so I " 
 
 " He looked," said Ward dispassionately, " like a 
 pretty mad young man with nose, eyes, and a mouth, 
 and a mole in front of his left ear." 
 
 " He was real polite," said Billy Louise reprovingly, 
 " and his voice is nice." 
 
 " Yes ? I mind-read a heap of cussing. The po- 
 liteness was all on top." Ward chuckled and swept
 
 MARTHY BURIES HER DEAD 73 
 
 more water outside. " I expect you saved me a lick- 
 ing that time, Miss William the Conqueror." 
 
 "Can you think of any more names to call- me, 
 besides my own, I wonder ? " Billy Louise leaned 
 and inspected the floor like a chicken preparing to hop 
 off its roost." 
 
 " Heaps more." The glow in Ward's eyes was dan- 
 gerous to their calm friendship. " Want to hear 
 them?" 
 
 " No, I don't. I want to get off this table before 
 that college youth comes back to be shocked silly again. 
 I want to see if he 's really got a mole in front of 
 his ear ! " 
 
 " You know what inquisitiveness did to old lady Lot, 
 don't you ? However " He lifted her in his arms, 
 and set her down outside the door. " There, Wil- 
 hemina ; trot along and see the nice young man." 
 
 Billy Louise sat down on the wheelbarrow, remem- 
 bered its latest service, and got up hastily. " I won't 
 go a step," she asserted positively. 
 
 Ward had not wanted her to go. He gave her a 
 smile and finished off his scrubbing with the mop, which 
 he handled with quite surprising skill for a young 
 man who seemed more at home in the saddle than any- 
 where else. 
 
 " I 'm awfully glad he came, anyway." Billy Louise 
 pulled down a budded lilac branch and sniffed at it. 
 " I won't have to stay all night, now. I was going 
 to." 
 
 " In that case, the young man is welcome as a gold 
 mine. Here they come he and Mrs. Martha. You '11 
 have to introduce me, Bill-the-Conk ; I have never met
 
 74 RANCH* AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 the lady." Ward hastily returned the mop to its corner, 
 rolled down his sleeves, and picked up his gloves. Then 
 he stepped outside and waited beside Billy Louise, look- 
 ing not in the least like a man who has just wiped a 
 lot of dishes and scrubbed a floor. 
 
 The nephew, striding along behind Marthy and show- 
 ing head and shoulders above her, seemed not to resent 
 any little mischance, such as muddy water flirted upon 
 him from a broom. He grinned reminiscently as he 
 came up, shook hands with the two of them, and did 
 not let his glance dwell too long or too often upon Billy 
 Louise, nor too briefly upon Ward. 
 
 " You Ve got a splendid place here, Aunt Martha," 
 he told the old woman appreciatively. " I 'd no idea 
 there was such a little beauty-spot down here. This 
 is even more picturesque than that homey-looking ranch 
 we passed a few miles back, down in that little val- 
 ley. I was hoping that was your ranch when I first 
 saw it ; and when I found it was n't, I came near stop- 
 ping, anyway. I 'm glad I resisted the temptation, 
 now. This is worth coming a long way to see." 
 
 " I ain't never had a chance to do all I wanted to 
 with it," said Marthy, with the first hint of apology 
 Billy Louise had ever heard from her. " I only had 
 one pair" of hands to work with " 
 
 " We '11 fix that part. Don't you worry a minute. 
 You 're going to sit in a rocking-chair and give or- 
 ders, from now on. And if I can't make good here, 
 I ought to be booted all the way up that spooky gorge. 
 Is n't that right ? " He turned to Warren with a cer- 
 tain air of appraisement behind the unmistakable cor- 
 diality of his voice.
 
 MARTHY BURIES HER DEAD 73 
 
 '' A man ought to make good here, all right," Ward 
 agreed neutrally. " It 's a fine place." 
 
 " It ain't as fine as I 'd like to see it," began Marthy 
 depreciatingly. 
 
 " As you will see it, let 's say if that does n't sound 
 too conceited from a tenderfoot," supplemented the 
 nephew, and laid his hand upon her shoulder with. a 
 gentle little pat. " Folks, I don't want to seem too 
 exuberantly sure of myself, but " he waved a care- 
 fully-kept hand eloquently at the luxuriance around 
 him, " I 'm all fussed up over this place, honest. 
 I thought I was coming to a shack in the middle of 
 the sage-brush ; I was primed to buckle down and make 
 good even in the desert. And bumping into this sort 
 of thing without warning has gone to my alleged brain 
 a bit. What I don't know about ranching would fill 
 a library ; but there 's this much, anyway. There won't 
 be any more ditch-digging for a certain game little lady 
 in this Cove." He gave the shoulder another pat, and 
 he smiled down at her in a way that made Billy Louise 
 blink. And Marthy, who had probably never before 
 been called a game little lady, came near breaking 
 down and crying before them all. 
 
 When Ward went to the stable after Blue, half an 
 hour later, Charlie Fox went with him. His manner 
 when they were alone was different ; not so exuberantly 
 cheerful more frank and practical. 
 
 " Honest, it floored me completely to see what that 
 poor old woman has been up against down here," he 
 told Warren, stuffing tobacco into a silver-rimmed, briar 
 pipe while Ward saddled Blue. " I don't know a hell 
 of a lot about this ranch game; but if that old lady
 
 76 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 can put it across, I guess I can wobble along some- 
 how. Too bad the old man cashed in just now; but 
 Aunt Martha as good as told me he was n't much force, 
 so maybe I can play a lone hand here as easy as I 
 could have done with him. Live near here ? " 
 
 " Fifteen miles or so." Ward was not in his most 
 expansive mood, chiefly for the reason that this man was 
 a stranger, and of strangers he was inclined to fight 
 shy. 
 
 " Oh, well it might have been fifty. I know how 
 you fellows measure distances out here. I 'm likely 
 to need a little coaching, now and then, if I live up to 
 what I just now told the old lady." 
 
 " From all I know of her, you won't need to go out 
 of the Cove for advice." 
 
 " Well, that 's right, judging from the looks of things. 
 A woman that can go up against a proposition like she 
 did to-day and handle it alone, is no mental weakling; 
 to say nothing of the way this ranch looks. All right, 
 Warren ; I '11 make out alone, I reckon." 
 
 Afterwards, when Ward thought it over, he remem- 
 bered gratefully that Charlie Fox had refrained from 
 attempting any discussion of Billy Louise or from ask- 
 ing any questions even remotely personal. He knew 
 enough about men to appreciate the tactful silences of 
 the stranger, and when Billy Louise, on the way home, 
 predicted that the nephew was going to be a success, 
 Ward did not feel like qualifying the verdict. 
 
 " He 's going to be a godsend to the old lady," he 
 said. " He seems to have his sights raised to making 
 things come easier for her from now on." 
 
 " Well, she certainly deserves it. For a college young
 
 77 
 
 man the ordinary, smart young man who comes out 
 here to astonish the natives he 's almost human. I 
 was so afraid that Marthy 'd get him out here and 
 then discover he waa a perfect nuisance. So many 
 men are."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 X 
 
 A MATTER OF TWELVE MONTHS OB SO 
 
 OUT in the wide spaces, where homes are but scat- 
 tered oases in the general emptiness, life does 
 not move uniformly, so far as it concerns incidents or 
 acquaintanceships. A man or a ranch may experience 
 complete isolation, and the unbroken monotony which 
 sometimes accompanies it, for a month at a time. Sum- 
 mer work or winter storm may be the barrier tem- 
 porarily raised, and life resolves itself into a succes- 
 sion of days and nights unbroken by outside influences. 
 They leave their mark upon humans these periods 
 of isolation. For better, for worse, the man changes 
 slowly with the months; he grows more bovine in his 
 phlegmatic acceptance of his environment, or he becomes 
 restless and fired with a surplus energy of ambition, 
 or he falls to dreaming dreams ; whatever angle he takes, 
 he changes, imperceptibly perhaps, but inevitably. 
 
 Then the monotony is broken and sometimes with vio- 
 lence. Incident rushes in upon the heels of incident, 
 and life becomes as tumultuous as the many moods of 
 nature when it has a wide, open land for a play- 
 ground. 
 
 That is why, perhaps, so much of western life is 
 painted with broad strokes and raw colors. You are 
 given the crowded action, the unleashing of emotions 
 and temperaments that have smoldered long under the
 
 TWELVE MONTHS OR SO 79 
 
 blanket of solitary living. You are shown an effect 
 without being given the cause of that effect. You pro- 
 nounce the West wild, and you never think of the long 
 winters that bred in silence and brooding solitude those 
 storm-periods which seem so primitively savage ; of the 
 days wherein each nature is thrown upon its own re- 
 sources, with nothing to feed upon but itself and its 
 own personal interests. And so characters change, and 
 one wonders why. 
 
 There was Billy Louise, with her hands and her mind 
 full of the problems her father had died still trying to 
 solve. She did not in the least realize that she was 
 attempting anything out of the ordinary when she took 
 a half-developed ranch in the middle of a land almost 
 as wild as it had been when the Indians wandered over 
 it unmolested, a few cattle and horses and a bundle 
 of debts to make her head swim, and set herself the 
 problem of increasing the number of cattle and elimi- 
 nating the debts, and of wresting prosperity out of a 
 condition of picturesquely haphazard poverty. She 
 went about it with the pathetic confidence of youth and 
 ignorance, ^he rode up and down the canyons and over 
 the higher, grassier ridges, to watch the cattle on their 
 summer range and keep them from straying. She went 
 with John Pringle after posts and helped him fence 
 certain fertile slopes and hollows for winter grazing. 
 She drove the rickety old mower through the waving 
 grass along the creek bottons and hummed little, con- 
 tented tunes while she watched the grass sway and fall 
 evenly when the sickle shuttled through. She put on 
 her gymnasium bloomers and drove 'the hay wagon, and 
 felt only a pleasurable thrill of excitement when John
 
 80 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Pringle inadvertently pitched an indignant rattlesnake 
 up to, her with a forkful of hay. She killed the snake 
 with her pitchfork and pinched off the rattles, proud 
 of their size and number. 
 
 When she sold seven fat, three-year-old steers that 
 fall, and paid a note twice renewed, managing besides 
 to buy the winter supply of " grub " and a sewing- 
 machine and a set of silver teaspoons for her mother, 
 oh, but she was proud ! 
 
 Ward rode down to the ranch that night, and Billy 
 Louise showed him the note with its red stamp, oblong 
 and imposing and slightly blurred on the " paid " side. 
 Ward was almost as proud as she, if looks and tones 
 went for anything, and he helped Billy Louise a good 
 deal by telling her just how much she ought to pay 
 for the yearlings old Johnson, over on Snake River, 
 had for sale. Also he told her how much hay it would 
 take to winter them though she knew that already 
 and just what percentage of profit she might expect 
 from a given number in a given period of time. 
 
 He spoke of his own work and plans, as well. He was 
 going into cattle, also, as fast as possible, he said. In 
 a few years the sheep would probably come in and 
 crowd them out, but in the meantime there was money 
 in cattle and the more cattle, the more money. He 
 was going to work for wages till the winter set in. He 
 did n't know when he would see Billy Louise, he said, 
 but he would stop on his way back. 
 
 To them that short visit was something more than 
 an incident. It gave Ward new stuff for "his dreams 
 and new fuel for the fire of ambition. To Billy Louise 
 it also furnished new dream material. She rode the
 
 TWELVE MONTHS OR SO 81 
 
 hills and saw in fancy whole herds of cattle where now 
 wandered scattered animals. She dreamed of the time 
 when Ward and Charlie Fox and she would pool their 
 interests and run a wagon of their own, and gather their 
 stock from wide ranges. She was foolish, in that ; but 
 that is what she liked to dream. 
 
 Mentioning Charlie Fox calls to mind the 'fact that 
 he was changing more than any of them. Billy Louise 
 did not" see him very often, but when she did it was 
 with a deepening impression of his unflagging tender- 
 ness to Marthy a tenderness 'that manifested itself 
 in many little, unassuming thoughtf ulnesses and of 
 his good-humor and his energy and several other quali- 
 ties which one must admire. 
 
 " Mommie, that nephew goes at everything just as if 
 it were a game," she said after one visit. " You know 
 what that cabin has always been: dark and dirty and 
 not a comfortable chair to sit down in, or a book or 
 magazine or anything ? Well, I 'm just going to take 
 you over there some day and let you see the difference. 
 He 's cut two more windows and built on an addition 
 with a porch, if you please. And he has a bookcase 
 he made himself, just stuffed with books and maga- 
 zines. And he made Marthy a rocking-chair, mommie, 
 and she wears a white apron, and has her hair 
 combed, and sits and rocks! Honest to goodness, you 
 would n't think she was the same woman." 
 
 " Marthy always seemed to me more like a man than 
 a woman," said her mother. " She did n't have noth- 
 ing domestic in her whole make-up, far as I could see. 
 Her cooking " 
 
 " Well, mommie, Marthy cooks real well now.
 
 82 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Charlie praises up her bread, and she takes lots of pains 
 with it. And she just fusses with her flowers and lets 
 him run the ranch; and, mommie, she just worships, 
 Charlie ! The way she sits and looks at him when he 's 
 talking you can see she almost says prayers to him. 
 She does let her dishpan stay greasy I don't suppose 
 you can change a person completely but everything 
 is lots cleaner than it used to be before Charlie came. 
 He 's going to buy more cattle, too, he says. Young 
 stock, mostly. He says there 's no sense in anybody be- 
 ing poor, in such a country as this. He says he in- 
 tends to make Marthy rich; Aunt Martha, he calls her. 
 I 'm certainly going to take you over to see her, mom- 
 mie, the very first nice day when I don't have a million 
 other things to do." Billy Louise sighed and pushed 
 her hair back impatiently. " I wish I were a man and 
 as smart as Charlie Fox," she added, with the plaintive 
 note that now sometimes crept into her voice When 
 she realized of a sudden how great a load she was 
 carrying. 
 
 " A man can get out and do things. And a woman 
 why, even Ward seems to think it 's perfectly wonder- 
 ful, mommie, that we don't just about starve, with me 
 running the ranch! I know he does. Every time I 
 do a thing right or pay off a note or anything, he looks 
 as if " 
 
 " T would n't be a mite surprised, Billy Louise," said 
 her mother, with a flash of amused comprehension, " if 
 you kinda misread Ward sometimes. Them eyes of 
 his are pretty keen, and they see a whole lot ; but they 
 ain't easy to read, for all that. I guess Ward don't 
 think it 's anything surprising that you 're getting along
 
 TWELVE MONTHS OR SO 83 
 
 so well, Billy Louise. I surmise he knows you 're a 
 better manager than a lot of men are." 
 
 " I 'm not the manager Charlie Fox is, though." 
 Billy Louise was frankly envious. 
 
 " He did n't have any more to do with- than. 
 I 've got, and he 's accomplished a lot more. And, 
 besides, he started in green at the whole business." 
 She rested her chin in her cupped palms and stared 
 disconsolately at the high-piled hills behind which the 
 sun was setting gloriously. " He 's going to pipe 
 water into the house, mommie," she observed, after a 
 silence. " I wish " 
 
 " Well, he 's welcome. I don't want no water piped 
 in here, Billy Louise, and tastin' of the pipe. I 'd 
 rather carry it and have it sweet and fresh. Don't 
 you go worrying because you can't do everything Charlie 
 Fox does. Likely as not he 's pilin' up the debts in- 
 stead of payin' 'em off as you 're doing." 
 
 " I don't know ; I don't believe he is, though. I think 
 he 's just managing right and making every dollar count. 
 He got calves from Seabeck, up the river, cheaper than 
 I did from Johnson, mommie. He rode all over the 
 country and looked up range conditions and prices. He 
 did n't say so, but he made me feel foolish because I 
 just bought the first ones I saw, without waiting to 
 look around first. But Ward said it was a good buy, 
 and he ought to know ; only, the fact remains that Char- 
 lie has done better. I guess it is n't experience that 
 counts, altogether. Charlie Fox has got brains ! " 
 
 " Land alive ! I guess he ain't the only one, Billy 
 Louise. You 're doing better than your father done, 
 and he was n't any Jase Meilke kind of a man, but a
 
 84 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 good, hard worker always. You don't want to get all 
 outa conceit with yourself just because Charlie Fox 
 is gitting along all right. I don't know as it 's so won- 
 derful. Marthy was always forehanded, and she made 
 money there and never spent any to speak of. Though 
 I should n't carry the idea she 's stingy, after the way 
 she " 
 
 If Billy Louise had not been so absorbed with her 
 own discontent, she might have wondered at her 
 mother's sudden silence. But she did not even notice 
 it. She was comparing two young men and measuring 
 them with certain standards of her own, and she was 
 not quite satisfied with the result. She had seen Charlie 
 Fox spring up with a perfectly natural courtesy and 
 hand Marthy a chair when she entered the room where 
 he had been discussing books with Billy Louise. She 
 had seen him stand beside his own chair until Marthy 
 was seated and then had heard him deftly turn the 
 conversation into a channel wherein Marthy had also 
 an interest. Parlor politeness and something more ; 
 something infinitely finer and better than mere obe- 
 dience to certain conventional rules. 
 
 She had seen that and more, and she had a vivid pic- 
 ture of Ward, sitting absorbed in a book which he never 
 afterwards mentioned, and letting her or her mother 
 lift heavy pieces of wood upon the fire within arm's 
 reach of him ; sitting with his hat tilted back upon his 
 head and a cigarette gone cold in his fingers, and per- 
 haps not replying at all when he was spoken to. She 
 had never considered him uncouth or rude ; he was Ward 
 Warren, and these were certain individual traits which 
 he possessed and which seemed a part of him. She
 
 TWELVE MONTHS OR SO 85 
 
 had sensed dimly that some natures are too big and 
 too strong for petty rules of deportment, and that Ward 
 might sit all day in the house with his hat on his head 
 and still be a gentleman of the finer sort. And yet, 
 now that Charlie Fox had come and presented an ex- 
 ample of th,e world's standard, Billy Louise could not, 
 for the life of her, help wishing that Ward was differ- 
 ent. And there were other things; things which Billy 
 Louise was ashamed to recognize as influencing her 
 in any way, and yet which did influence her. For 
 instance, Ward lived to himself and for himself, and 
 not always wisely or well. He was arrogant in his 
 opinions Billy Louise had rather admired what she 
 had called his strength, but it had become arrogance 
 now and his scorn was swift and keen for blunder- 
 ings. And there was Charlie, always thinking and plan- 
 ning for Marthy and putting her wishes first; want- 
 ing to make sure that he himself had not blundered, 
 and with a conservative estimate of himself that was 
 refreshingly modest. And 
 
 " Ain't that Ward coming, Billy Louise ? Seems to 
 me it looks like him the way he rides." 
 
 Billy Louise started guiltily and looked up toward 
 the trail, now piled deep with shadows. It was Ward, 
 all right, and his voice, lifted in a good-humored shout, 
 brought Billy Louise to her feet and sent her down 
 the slope to the stable, where he had stopped as a 
 matter of course. 
 
 When he turned and smiled at her through the dusk 
 and said, " 'Lo, Bill," in a voice that was like a spoken 
 kiss, a certain young woman hated herself for a weak- 
 souled traitor and mentally called Charlie Fox a popin-
 
 86 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 jay, which was merely shifting injustice to another 
 resting-place. 
 
 " Are you plumb tickled to death to see me, Wil- 
 liam " 
 
 " Oh, no; but I guess I can stand it ! " 
 
 A smile to go with both sentences, and a strong un- 
 dercurrent of something unnamed in their tones whc 
 wanted the pasteurized milk and distilled water of a 
 perfectly polite form of greeting? Not Billy Louise, 
 if one might judge from that young woman's face and 
 voice and manner. Not Ward, though he was perfectly 
 unconscious of having been weighed or measured 
 or judged by any standard at all. 
 
 And yet, when Charlie Fox rode down to the Wol- 
 verine a week or so later, tied his horse under the shed, 
 and came up to the cabin as though he knew of no 
 better place in all the world ; when he greeted mommie 
 as though she were something precious in his sight, 
 and talked with her about the things she was most 
 interested in, and actually made her feel as if he were 
 immensely interested also, Billy Louise simply could 
 not help admiring him and liking him for his frank 
 good-nature and his kindness. She had never before 
 met a man just like Charlie Fox, though she had known 
 many who were what Ward once called " parlor-broke." 
 She felt when she was with him that he had a strength 
 to match Ward's strength ; only, this strength was tamed 
 and trained and smoothed so that it did not obtrude 
 upon one's notice. It was not every young man who 
 would come out into the wilderness and roughen his 
 hands on an irrigating shovel and live a cramped, lonely 
 life, for the sake of a harsh, illiterate old woman like
 
 TWELVE MONTHS OR SO 87 
 
 Marthy Meilke. She did not believe Ward would do 
 that. He would have to feel some tie stronger than 
 the one between Marthy and her nephew before he would 
 change his life and his own plans for anyone. 
 
 It was not mntil Charlie was leaving that he gave 
 Billy Louise a hint that his errand was not yet ac- 
 complished. She walked down with him to where his 
 horse was tred and so gave him a chance to speak what 
 was in his mind. 
 
 " You know, I hate to mention little worries before 
 your mother," he said. " Those pathetic eyes of hers 
 make me ashamed to bother her with a thing. But I 
 am worried, Miss Louise. I came over to ask you 
 if you 've seeia anything of four calves of ours. I 
 know you ride a good deal, through the hills. They 
 disappeared a week ago, and I can't find any trace 
 of them. I 've been looking all through the hills, but 
 I can't locate them." 
 
 Billy Louise had not seen them, either, and she 
 begged for particulars. " I don't see how they could 
 get away from your Cove," she said, " unless your bars 
 were down." 
 
 " The bars were all right. It was last Friday, I 
 think. I 'm not sure. They were in the little meadow 
 above the house, you see. I was away that night, and 
 Aunt Martha is a little hard of hearing. She would n't 
 hear anything unless there were considerable noise. I 
 came home the next forenoon I was over to Seabeck's 
 and the bars were in place then. Aunt Martha had not 
 been up the gorge, nor had anyone come to the ranch 
 while I was gone. So you see, Miss Louise, here 's a 
 very pretty mystery ! "
 
 88 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 He laughed, but Billy Louise saw by his eyes that 
 he did not laugh very deeply, and that he was really 
 worried. " I must have made a mistake and bought 
 mountain sheep instead of calves," he said and laughed 
 again. " They could n't have gone through those bars 
 or over them; and I did have a spark of intelligence 
 and looked along the river for tracks, you know. They 
 had not been near the river, which has soft banks along 
 there. They watered from the little creek that comes 
 down the gorge. Miss Louise, do you have flying cat- 
 tle in Idaho ? " 
 
 " You think they were driven off, don't you ? " Billy 
 Louise asked a question with the words, and made a 
 statement of it with her tone, which was a trick of 
 hers. 
 
 Charlie Fox shook his head, but his eyes did not com- 
 plete the denial. " Miss Louise, I 'd wor every other 
 theory to death before I 'd admit that possibility ! I 
 don't know all of my neighbors 'so very well, but I 
 should hesitate a long, long time " 
 
 " It need n't have been a neighbor. There are lots 
 of strange men passing through the country. Did you 
 look for tracks ? " 
 
 "I did not. I did n't want to admit that possi- 
 bility. I decline to admit it now." The chin of Charlie 
 Fox squared perceptibly, so that Billie Louise caught 
 a faint resemblance to Marthy in his face. u I saw a 
 man accused of a theft once," he said. ' The evi- 
 dence was or seemed absolutely unassailable. And 
 afterward he was exonerated completely; it was just 
 a horrible mistake. But he left school under a cloud. 
 His life was ruined by the blunder. I 'd have to know
 
 TWELVE MONTHS OR SO 89 
 
 absolutely before I 'd accuse anyone of stealing those 
 calves, Miss Louise. I 'd have to see them in a man's 
 corral, with his brand on them I believe that 's the 
 way it 's done, out here and even then " 
 
 " Where have you looked ? " There were reasons why 
 this particular subject was painful to Billy Louise. 
 " And are you sure they did n't get out of that pas- 
 ture and wander on down the Cove, among all those 
 willows ? It 's a perfect jungle, away down. Are you 
 sure they aren't with the rest of the cattle? I don't 
 see how they could leave the Cove, unless they were 
 driven out." She caught a twinkle of amusement in 
 his eyes and stopped short. Of course, a mere girl 
 should not take it for granted that a man had failed to 
 do all that might be done. And Billy Louise had a 
 swift conviction that she would never think of talking 
 like this to Ward. She flushed a little ; and still, Charlie 
 Fox was a tenderfoot. She was justified in asking those 
 questions, and in her heart she knew it. 
 
 " Yes, I thought of that strange as it may seem." 
 Charlie's voice was unoffended. On the contrary, he 
 seemed glad that she took so keen an interest in his 
 affairs. " It has been a week, you know, since they 
 flew the coop. I did hunt every foot of that Cove, 
 twice over. I drove every hoof of stock up and cor- 
 raled them, and made sure these four were not in the 
 herd. Then I hunted through every inch of that wil- 
 low jungle and all along the bluff and the river; Miss 
 Louise, I put in three days at it, from sunrise till 
 it was too dark to see. Then I began riding outside. 
 There isn't a trace of them anywhere. I had just 
 bought them from Seabeck, you know. I drove them
 
 90 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 home, and because they were tired, and so was I, I just 
 left them in that upper meadow as I came down the 
 gorge. I had n't branded them yet. I I know I 've 
 made an awful botch of the thing, Miss Louise," lie 
 confessed, turning toward her with an honest distress 
 and a self-flaying humility in his eyes that wiped from 
 Billy Louise's mind any incipient tendency toward con- 
 tempt. " But you see I 'm green at this ranch game. 
 And I never dreamed those calves were n't perfectly 
 safe in there. The fence was new and strong; I built 
 it new this fall, you know. And the bars are abso- 
 lutely bars to any stock larger than a rabbit. Of 
 course," he added, with a deprecating note, " four 
 calves are only four calves. But it 's the sense of 
 failure that gets me hardest, Miss Louise. Aunt Martha 
 trusted me to take care of things. Her confidence in 
 me fairly takes my nerve. And losing four fine, big 
 heifer calves at one whack is no way to get rich; is 
 it, Miss Louise ? " He laughed, and again the laugh 
 did not go deep, or reach his eyes. 
 
 " I hate to bother you with this, and I don't want 
 you to think I have come whining for sympathy," he 
 said, after a minute of moody silence. " But seeing 
 they were not branded yet with our brand I 
 thought perhaps you had run across them and paid no 
 attention, thinking they belonged to Seabeck." 
 
 Billy Louise smiled a little to herself. If he had 
 not been quite so " green at the ranch game," he would 
 have mentioned brands at first, as the most important 
 point, instead of tacking on the information casually 
 after ten minutes of other less vital details. 
 
 " Were they vented ? " she asked, suppressing the
 
 TWELVE MONTHS OR SO 91 
 
 smile so that it was merely a twitch of the lips which 
 might mean anything. 
 
 "I yes, I think they were. That 's what you call 
 it when the former owner puts his brand in a different 
 place to show that his ownership has ceased, isjn't it? 
 Seabeck puts his brand upside down " 
 
 " I know Seabeck's vent," Billy Louise cut in. There 
 was no need of letting such a fine fellow display more 
 ignorance on the subject. " And I should have no- 
 ticed it if I had seen four calves vented fresh and not 
 rebranded. Why in the world did n't you stick your 
 brand on at the same time ? " Billy Louise was losing 
 patience with his greenness. 
 
 " I did n't have my branding iron with me," Charlie 
 answered humbly. " I have done that before, when I 
 bought those other cows and calves. I " 
 
 " You 'd better pack your iron, next time," she re- 
 torted. " If you can't get a little bunch of calves 
 ten miles without losing them " 
 
 " But you must understand, I did ! I took them 
 home and turned them into the Cove. I know I 'm 
 an awful chump at this. There are things that I can 
 do," he declared whimsically, " or I should want to 
 kick myself to death. I can ladle out money the year 
 round through a bank wicket and not be shy a cent 
 at the end of the year. And I can strike out man after 
 man when I 'm in good form ; why, I 've pitched 
 whole games and never walked a man! And I can 
 but what 's the use ? I can't drive the cows up from 
 pasture, it seems, without losing all the milk. And 
 I can make a little, gray-eyed girl out here in the 
 sagebrush look upon me with pitying contempt for my
 
 92 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 asinine ignorance. Hang it, why does a fellow have 
 to learn fresh lessons for everything he undertakes ? 
 Why can't there be a universal course that fits one for 
 every trade ? " 
 
 " There is," said Billy Louise dryly. " You take 
 that in the School of Experience, don't you ? " 
 
 He laughed ruefully. " Horatio ! It certainly does 
 cost something, though. I 've certainly paid enough 
 
 " In worry, maybe. The calves may not be abso- 
 lutely lost, you know. Why, I lost a big steer last 
 spring and never found him till I was going to sell 
 a few head. Then he turned up, the biggest and fat- 
 test one in the bunch. You can't tell; they get them- 
 selves in queer places sometimes. I '11 come over to- 
 morrow, if I can, and take a look at that pasture and 
 all around. And I '11 keep a good looko.ut for the 
 calves." 
 
 Many men would have objected to the unconscious 
 patronage of her tone. That Charlie Fox did not, but 
 accepted the spirit of helpfulness in her words, lifted 
 him out of the small-natured class. 
 
 " It 's awfully good of you," he said. " You know 
 a lot more about the bovine nature than I do, for all 
 I put in every spare minute studying the subject. I 'm 
 taking four different stock journals now, Miss Louise. 
 I '11 bet I know a lot more about the different strains 
 of various breeds than you do, Miss Cattle-queen. But 
 I 'm beginning to see that we only know what we learn 
 by experience. I 've a new book on the subject of 
 heredity of the cattle. I 'm going home and see if Sea- 
 beck has n't stumbled upon a strain that can be traced 
 back to your native mountain sheep."
 
 TWELVE MONTHS OR SO 93 
 
 Billy Louise laughed and said good-by, and stood 
 leaning over the gate watching him as he zigzagged 
 up the hill, stopping his horse often to breathe. The 
 wagon road took a round-about course, longer and less 
 steep. At the top, just before he rounded a huge pim- 
 ple on the face of the bluff, he stopped and looked 
 down, saw her standing there, and waved his hat. His 
 horse stood sidewise upon the trail for easier foot- 
 ing, and the man's head and shoulders were silhouetted 
 sharply against the deep, clear blue of the sky. Billy 
 Louise felt a little, unnamed thrill as she stared up 
 at him. Her lips curved into tenderness. Clean, frank, 
 easy-natured he was, as she had come to know him. It 
 was like coming into a sunny spot to be with him. And 
 then she sighed, with that vague feeling of dissatis- 
 faction with herself. She felt crude and awkward and 
 dull of wit. Her mother, Marthy, Ward all the per- 
 sons she knew were crude and awkward and ignorant 
 beside Charlie Fox. And she had had the temerity, 
 the insufferable effrontery, to criticize him and patron- 
 ize him over those four calves! 
 
 " He can strike out three men in succession," she 
 murmured. " And he pitched whole games and never 
 walked a man." She gave him a final wave of the 
 hand, as he turned to climb on out of sight. " And I 
 don't even know what he was talking about though I 
 think it was baseball. And I was awfully snippy about 
 those calves he lost." 
 
 She began to wonder, then, about those calves. 
 Vented and not rebranded, they would be easy game for 
 any man who first got his own brand on them. She 
 meant to get a description of them when she saw Char-
 
 94 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 lie again it was like his innocence to forget the most 
 essential details ! and she meant to keep her eyes 
 open. If Charlie were right about the calves not be- 
 ing anywhere in the Cove, then they had been driven 
 out of it, stolen. Billy Louise turned dejectedly away 
 from the fence and went down to a shady nook by 
 the creek, where she had always liked to do her wor- 
 rying and hard thinking. 
 
 She stooped and tried to catch a baby trout in her 
 cupped palms, just as she used to try when she was 
 a child. If those four calves were stolen, then there 
 was a " rustler " in the country. And if there were, 
 then no one's stock was safe. The deduction was ter- 
 ribly simple and as exact as the smallest sum in addi- 
 tion. And Billy Louise could not afford to pay toll to 
 a rustler out of her forty-seven head of cattle. 
 
 The next day she rode early to the Cove and learned 
 some things from Marthy which she had not gleaned 
 from Charlie. She learned that two of the calves were 
 a deep red, except for a wide, white strip on the nose 
 of one and white hind feet on the other; that another 
 was spotted on the hindquarters, and that the fourth 
 was white, with large, red blotches. She had known 
 cattle all her life. She would know these, if she saw 
 them anywhere. 
 
 She also discovered for herself that they could not 
 have broken out of that pasture, and that the river 
 bank was impassable, because of high, thick bushes and 
 miry mud in the open spaces. She had a fight with 
 Blue over these latter places and demonstrated beyond 
 doubt that they were miry, by getting him in to the 
 knees in spite of his violent objections. They left deep
 
 TWELVE MONTHS OR SO 95 
 
 tracks behind them when they got out. The calves had 
 not gone investigating the bank, for there was not a 
 trace anywhere. And the bluff was absolutely unscal- 
 able. Billy Louise herself would have felt doubtful of 
 climbing out that way. The gray rim-rock stood 
 straight and high at the top, with never a crevice, so 
 far as she could see. And the gorge was barred, so 
 that it was impossible to go that way without lifting 
 heavy poles out of deep sockets and sliding them to one 
 side. 
 
 " I 've got an idea about a gate here," Charlie con- 
 fided suddenly. " There won't be any more mysteries 
 like this. I 'm going to fix a swinging gate in place 
 of these bars, Miss Louise. I shall have it swing up- 
 hill, like this ; and I '11 have a weight arranged so that 
 it will always close itself, if one is careless enough to 
 ride on and leave it open. I have it all worked out 
 in my alleged brain. I shall do it right away, too. 
 Aunt Marthy is rather nervous about this gorge, now. 
 Every evening she walks up here herself to make sure 
 the bars are closed." 
 
 " You may as well make up your mind to it," said 
 Billy Louise irrelevantly, in a tone of absolute cer- 
 tainty. " Those calves were driven out of the gorge. 
 That means stolen. You need n't accuse anyone in par- 
 ticular; I don't suppose you could. But they were 
 stolen." 
 
 Charlie frowned and glanced up speculatively at the 
 bluff's rim. 
 
 " Oh, your mountain-sheep theory is no good," Billy 
 Louise giggled. " I doubt if a lizard, even, would try 
 to leave the Cove over the bluff." Which certainly was
 
 96 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 a sweeping statement, when you consider a lizard's 
 habits. " A mountain sheep could n't, anyway." 
 
 " They 're hummers to climb " 
 
 " But calves are not, Mr. Fox ! Not like that. You 
 know yourself they were stolen ; why not admit it ? " 
 
 " Would that do any good bring them back ? " he 
 countered, looking up at her. 
 
 " N-o, but I do hate to see a person deliberately shut 
 his eyes in front of a fact. We may as well admit to 
 ourselves that there is a rustler in the country. Then 
 we can look out for him." 
 
 Charlie's eyes had the troubled look. " I hate to 
 think that. Aunt Martha insists that is what we are 
 up against, but " 
 
 " Well, she knows more about it than you do, believe 
 me. If you '11 let down the bars, Mr. Fox, I '11 hit 
 the trail. And if I find out anything, I '11 let you 
 know at once." 
 
 When she rode over the bleak upland she caught her- 
 self wishing that she might talk the thing over with 
 Ward. He would know just what ought to be done. 
 But winter was coming, and she would drive her stock 
 down into the fields she had ready. They would be 
 safe there, surely. Still, she wished Ward would come. 
 She wanted to talk it over with a man who understood 
 and who knew more about such things than she did.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 WARD HUNTS WOLVES 
 
 THE fate of the four heifer calves became per- 
 manently wrapped in the blank fog of mystery. 
 Billy Louise watched for them when she rode out in 
 the hills, and spent a good deal of time heretofore given 
 over to dreaming in trying to solve the riddle of their 
 disappearance. Charlie Fox insisted upon keeping to 
 the theory that they had merely strayed. Marthy grum- 
 bled sometimes over the loss, and Ward well, AVard 
 did not put in an appearance again that fall or winter 
 and so did not hear of the incident. 
 
 November brought a long, tiresome storm of snow 
 and sleet and chill winds, which even the beasts would 
 not face, except when they were forced. After that 
 there were days of chilly sunlight, nights of black frost, 
 and more wind and rain and snow. Each little ranch 
 oasis withdrew into itself and settled down to pass the 
 winter in physical comfort and mental isolation. Even 
 Billy Louise seldom rode abroad unless she was com- 
 pelled to, which was not often. The stage which passed 
 through the Wolverine basin twice a week left scanty 
 mail in the starch-box which Billy Louise had herself 
 nailed to a post nearest the trail. Now and then a 
 chance traveler pulled thankfully out of the trail, 
 stopped for a warm dinner or a bed, and afterwards 
 went his way. But from October until the hills were
 
 98 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 green, there was never a sight of Ward, and Billy Louise 
 changed her mood and her opinion of him three or four 
 times a week. 
 
 Ward, as a matter of fact, had a very good reason 
 for his absence. He was working for a rancher over 
 on the other side of the mountains, and when he got 
 leave of absence, it was merely that he might ride to 
 his claim and sleep there a night in compliance with 
 the law, and see that nothing was disturbed. He was 
 earning forty dollars a month, which he could not af- 
 ford to jeopardize by any prolonged absence; and he 
 was to take part of his pay in cows. Also, he had made 
 arrangements to keep his few head of stock with the 
 rancher's for a nominal sum, which barely saved Ward 
 from the humiliation of feeling that the man was giv- 
 ing him something for nothing. Junkins, the rancher, 
 was a good fellow, and he had a fair sense of values. 
 He knew that he could pay Ward these wages and let 
 him winter his stock there I believe Ward bad seven 
 or eight head at that time and still make a fair profit 
 on his labor. For Ward stuck to his work, and he- 
 worked fast, with the drive of his nervous energy and 
 the impatience he always felt toward any obstacle. Jun- 
 kins considered privately that Ward was giving him 
 the work of two men, while he had the appetite of one. 
 -So that it was to his interest to induce Ward to stay 
 until ?pring opened and gave him plenty to do on his 
 own claim ; and such was Ward's anxiety to acquire 
 some property and a certain financial security, that he 
 put behind him the temptation to ride down to the 
 Wolverine until he was once more his own master. He 
 had sold his time to Junkins. He would not pilfer the
 
 WARD HUNTS WOLVES 99 
 
 hours it would take to ride twenty miles and back again, 
 even to see Billy Louise; which proves that he was no 
 moral weakling, whatever else he might be. 
 
 Then, in April, he left Junkins and drove home a 
 nice little bunch of ten cows and a two-year-old and two 
 yearlings. One of the cows had a week-old calf, and 
 there would be more before long. Ward sang the whole 
 of Cliisholm Trail at the top of his voice^^s he drifted 
 the cattle slowly up the long hill to the top of the 
 divide, from where he could look down over lower hills 
 into his own little creek-bottom. 
 
 " With my knees in the saddle and my seat in the sky, 
 I '11 quit punching cows in the sweet by-and-by," 
 
 he finished exuberantly and promised himself that he 
 would ride down to the Wolverine the very next day 
 " and see how the folks came through the winter." He 
 wanted to tell William Louisa that he was some cow- 
 man himself, these days. He thought he had made a 
 pretty good showing in the last twelve months ; for when 
 he first met her, at the Cedar Creek ford, he had n't 
 owned a hoof except the four which belonged to Rattler, 
 his horse. He thought that maybe, if the play came 
 right and he did n't lose his nerve, he might tell Wil- 
 liam Louisa something else ! It seemed to him that he 
 had earned the right now. 
 
 He rode three miles oblivious to his surroundings, 
 while he went carefully over his acquaintance no, his 
 friendship with Billy Louise and tried to guess what 
 she would say when he told her what he had wanted to 
 tell her for a year; what he had been hungry to tell 
 her. Sometimes he smiled a little, and sometimes he
 
 100 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 looked gloomy. He ended by hurrying the cattle down 
 the canyon so that he might ride on to the Wolverine 
 that night. It would be tough on Rattler, but then, 
 what 's a range cayuse made for, anyway ? Rattler had 
 had a snap, all winter ; he could stand a hard deal once, 
 for a change. It would do the old skate good to lift 
 himself over fifty miles once more. 
 
 Whether it did Rattler any good or not, it put new 
 heart into Ward to ride down the bluff and see the 
 wink of the cabin window once more. He smiled sud- 
 denly to himself, threw back his shoulders, and lifted 
 up his voice in the doggerel that had come to be a sort 
 of bond between the two. 
 
 " I 'm on my best horse and a-comin' on the run, 
 Best blamed cowboy that ever pulled a gun," 
 
 he shouted gleefully. A yellow square opened in the 
 cabin's side, and a figure stood outlined against the 
 shining background. Ward laughed happily. 
 
 " Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a, youpy-a," he sang up- 
 roariously. 
 
 Billy Louise turned her head toward the interior 
 of the cabin and then left the light and merged into the 
 darkness without. Ward risked a broken neck and 
 went down the last bit of slope as if he were trying 
 to head a steer. By the time he galloped up to the gate, 
 Billy Louise was leaning over it. He could see her 
 form dimly there. 
 
 " 'Lo, Bill," he said softly and slid out of the saddle 
 and went up to her. " How you was, already ? " Again 
 his voice was like a kiss. 
 
 " 'Lo, Ward!" (in a tone that returned the kiss).
 
 WARD HUNTS WOLVES 101 
 
 " Don't know whether the stopping 's good to-night or 
 not. We 've quit taking in tramps. Where the dick- 
 ens have you been for the last ten years ? " And that, 
 on top of a firm conviction in Billy's Louise's mind 
 that she did not care whether Ward ever crossed her 
 trail again, and that when he did, he would have to do 
 a lot of explaining before she would thaw to anything 
 approaching friendliness. Oh, well, we all change our 
 minds sometimes. 
 
 " I felt like it was twenty," Ward affirmed. " Ho 
 I get any supper, William? I like to have ridden my 
 horse to a standstill getting here to-night; know that? 
 I hope you appreciate the fact." 
 
 " It 's a wonder you would n't have started a lit- 
 tle sooner, then," Billy Louise retorted. " Along about 
 Christmas, for instance." 
 
 " Was n't my fault I did n't, William. Think I Ve 
 got nothing to do but chase around the country calling 
 on young ladies ? I 've been a wage slave, Bill-Loo. 
 Come on while I put up my horse. Poor devil, I drove 
 cattle from Junkins' place with him, and they were n't 
 what you could call trail-broke, either. And then I 
 came on down here. I 've been in the . saddle since 
 daylight, young lady ; and Rattler 's been under it." 
 
 " Well, I 'm very sure that it is not my fault," Billy 
 Louise disclaimed, as she walked beside him to the 
 stable. 
 
 " I 'm not so sure of that ! I might produce some 
 pretty strong evidence that the last twenty miles is 
 your fault. Say, you did n't know I 've gone into the 
 cow business myself, did you, William ? I Ve been 
 working like one son-of-a-gun all fall and winter, and
 
 102 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 I 'm in the cattle-king class to the extent of twelve 
 head. I knew you were crazy to hear the glad tidings, 
 so I tried to kill off a horse to get here and tell you. 
 You and me '11 be running a wagon and full crew in 
 another year, don't you reckon? And send reps over 
 into Wyoming and around, to look after our interests ! " 
 He laughed at himself with a perfect understanding 
 of his own insignificance as a cattle-owner, and Billy 
 Louise laughed with him, though not at him, for it 
 seemed to her that Ward had done well, considering 
 his small opportunities. 
 
 To be sure, in these days when civilization travels 
 by million-dollar milestones, and the hero of a ten- 
 dollar story scorns any enterprise which requires less 
 than five figures to name its profits, Ward and Billy 
 Louise and Charlie Fox and all their neighbors 
 do not amount to much. But it is a fact that real 
 men and women in the real world beyond the horizon 
 work hard and fight real battles for a very small suc- 
 cess compared with Big Interests and the modern story- 
 man. And I 'm telling you of some real people in 
 a real world out in the sagebrush country, where not 
 even a story hero may consistently become a million- 
 aire in ten chapters. There is no millionaire material 
 in the sagebrush country, you know, unless it is planted 
 there by the Big Interests; and the Big Interests do 
 not plant in barren soil. So if twelve head of cattle 
 look too trifling to mention, I can't help it. Ward 
 worked mighty hard for those few animals, and saved 
 and schemed, and denied himself much pleasure. There- 
 fore, he did as well as any man under the circumstances 
 could do and be honest.
 
 WARD HUNTS WOLVES 103 
 
 Pie did not do so very well when it came to telling 
 Billy Louise something. Twice during his visit he 
 had to admit to himself that the play came right 
 to tell her. And both times Ward shied like a horse 
 in the moonlight. For all that he sang about half the 
 way home, the next day, and for the rest of the way 
 he built castles; which proves that his visit ha'd not 
 been disappointing. 
 
 He rode out into the pasture where his cattle were 
 grazing and sat looking at them while he smoked a 
 cigarette. And while he smoked, that small herd grew 
 and multiplied before the eyes of his imagination, until 
 he needed a full crew of riders to take care of them. 
 He shipped a trainload of beef to Chicago before he 
 threw away the cigarette stub, and he laughed to him- 
 self when he rode back to the log cabin in the grove 
 of quaking aspens. 
 
 " I 'm getting my money's worth out of that bunch, 
 just in the fun of planning ahead/' he realized, while 
 he whittled shavings from the edge of a cracker-box 
 to start his supper fire. " A few cows and calves make 
 the best day-dream material I 've struck yet ; wish I 
 had more of the same. I 'd make old Dame Fortune 
 put a different brand on me, pronto. She could spell 
 it with an F, but it would n't be football. If the cards 
 fall right," he mused, when the fire was hot and crack- 
 ling, and he was slicing bacon with his pocket-knife, 
 " I '11 get the best of her yet. And " His coffee- 
 pail boiled over and interrupted him. He burned his 
 fingers before he slid the pail to a cooler spot, and 
 after that he thought of the joys of having a certain
 
 104 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 gray-eyed girl for his housekeeper, and for a time he 
 forgot about his newly acquired herd. 
 
 And then his day-dreams received a severer jolt, and 
 one more lasting. He began to realize something that 
 he had always known: that there is something more to 
 the cattle business than branding the calves and sell- 
 ing the beef. 
 
 When the first calf went to dull the hunger of the 
 wolves that howled o'nights among the rocks and stunted 
 pines on Bannock Butte, Ward swore a good deal and 
 resolved to ride with his rifle tied on the saddle here- 
 after. Also, he went back immediately, got a little 
 fat, blue bottle of strychnine, and returned and " salted " 
 the small remnant of the carcass. It was no part of his 
 dreams to have the profit chewed off his little herd 
 by wolves. 
 
 When the second calf was pulled down in spite of 
 the mother's defense, within half a mile of his cabin, 
 Ward postponed a trip he had meant to make to the 
 Wolverine and went out on the trail of the wolves. In 
 the loose soil of the lower ridge he tracked them easily 
 and rode at a shuffling trot along the cow-trail they 
 had followed, his eyes keen for some further sign of 
 them. He guessed that there would be at least one 
 den farther up in the gulch that opened out ahead, and 
 if he could find it and get the pups well, the bounty 
 on one litter would even his loss, even if he were not 
 lucky enough to get one of the old ones. He had a 
 shovel tied to the saddle under his left leg, to use in 
 case he found a den. 
 
 So, planning a crusade against these enemies to his 
 enterprise, he picked his way slowly up the side of
 
 WARD HUNTS WOLVES 105 
 
 the deep gully that had a little stream wandering 
 through rocks at the bottom. His eyes, that Billy 
 Louise had found so quick and keen, noted every little 
 jutting shelf of rock, every badger hole, every bush. 
 It looked like a good place for dens of wolf or coyote. 
 And with the sun shining down warm on his shoul- 
 ders, and the meadow larks singing from swaying, 
 weeds, and rabbits scuttling away through the rocks 
 now and then, Ward began to forget the ill-luck that 
 had brought him out and to enjoy the hunt for its own 
 sake. 
 
 Farther along there were so many places that would 
 bear investigation that he left Rattler on a level spot, 
 and with his rifle and six-shooter, went forward on 
 foot, climbing over ledges of rock, forcing his way 
 through green-budded, wild-rose bushes or sliding down 
 loose, gravelly slopes. 
 
 One place a tiny cave under a huge bowlder 
 looked promising. There were wolf tracks going in 
 and out, plenty of them. But there were no bones or 
 offal anywhere around, and Ward decided that it was 
 not a family residence, but that the wolves had per- 
 haps invaded the nest of some other animal. He went 
 on hopefully. That side of the gulch was cobwebbed 
 with tracks. 
 
 Then, quite accidentally, he glanced across to the 
 far side, his eyes attracted to something which had 
 moved. He could see nothing at first, though from the 
 corner of his eye he had ^certainly caught a flicker of 
 movement over there. Yellow sand, gray rocks and 
 bushes, and above a curlew circling, with long beak 
 outstretched before, and long, red legs stretched out
 
 106 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 behind. He almost believed he had but caught the 
 swift passing of a cloud shadow over there and was on 
 the point of climbing farther up his own slope, to where 
 a yawning hole in the hill showed signs of being pawed 
 and trampled. Then an outline slowly defined itself 
 among a jumble of rocks ; head, sloping back, two points 
 for ears. It might be a rock, but it began to look more 
 and more like a wolf sitting up on its haunches watch- 
 ing him fixedly. 
 
 Even while Ward lifted his rifle and got the ivory 
 bead snugly fitted into the notch of the rear sight with 
 his eye, he would not have bet two-bits that he was 
 aiming at an animal. He pulled the trigger with a 
 steady crooking of his forefinger and the whole gulch 
 clamored with the noise. The object over there leaped 
 high, came down heavily, and rolled ten feet down the 
 hill to another level, where it bounded three or four 
 times convulsively, slid a few feet farther, and lay 
 still behind a bush. 
 
 " Got you that time, you old Turk, if you did nearly 
 fool me playing you were part of the scenery." Ward 
 slid recklessly down to the bottom, sought a narrow 
 place, jumped the creek, and climbed exultantly to 
 where the wolf lay twisted on its back, its eyes half 
 open and glazed, its jaws parted in a sardonic grin. 
 Ward grinned also as he looked at it. He gave the 
 carcass a poke with his boot-toe and glanced up the 
 hill toward the rocks. 
 
 " Maybe you were playing lookout for the bunch," 
 he said, " and then again, maybe jou ain't hooked up 
 with a family ; though from the looks, you ain't weaned 
 your pups yet till just now." Leaving the wolf where
 
 WARD HUNTS WOLVES 107 
 
 she lay, he climbed to the rocks where he had first 
 seen her. They lay high piled, but he could see day- 
 light through every open space and so knew there was 
 no den. The base rested solidly on the yellow earth. 
 
 Ward stood and looked at the slope below. To the 
 right and half-way down was a ten-foot ledge, and be- 
 low that outcropped a steep bank of earth. He could 
 not see what lay immediately below, but while he was 
 still staring, a pointed, gray nose topped by pert, gray 
 ears poked cautiously over the bank, hovered there 
 sniffing, and dropped back out of sight. 
 
 " You little son-of-a-gun ! " he exclaimed and dug in 
 his heels on the sharp descent. " I Ve got you right 
 where I want you, now." 
 
 The den was tunneled into the earth just over an- 
 other ledge, which underlay the bank there, and gave 
 a sheer drop of ten or fifteen feet to the slope below, 
 where a thick fringe of blossoming cherry bushes grew 
 close and hid the ledge so completely that the den had 
 been perfectly concealed from across the gulch. It 
 was a case where the shovel was needed. Ward 
 " flagged " the den by throwing his coat down before 
 the opening and went back to where Rattler waited. 
 He was jubilant over his good luck. With an average 
 litter of pups, and the old wolf besides, the bounty 
 would make those two calves the most profitable ani- 
 mals in the bunch, reckoned on the basis of money in- 
 vested in them. 
 
 With the shovel he enlarged the tunnel, and between 
 strokes he heard the whimpering of the pups. The 
 sound sobered his face to a pitying determination. Poor 
 little devils, it was not their fault that they were born
 
 108 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 to be a menace rather than a help to mankind. He was 
 sorry for their terror, while he dug back to where they 
 huddled against the farthest wall of their nest. He 
 worked fast that he might the sooner end their discom- 
 fort, and his forehead was puckered into a frown at 
 the harsh law of life that it must preserve its exist- 
 ence at the expense of some other life. Yet he dug 
 back and back, burrowing into the bank toward the 
 whimpering. It was farther than he had thought, but 
 the soil was a loose sand and gravel, and he made good 
 headway. 
 
 Then, laying down his shovel, he reached into a hys- 
 terical squirm of soft hair and sharp little teeth that 
 snapped at his gloved hand. One by one he hauled 
 them out, whining, biting, struggling like the little sav- 
 ages they were. One by one he sent them into oblivion 
 with a sharp tap of the shovel. There were eight, just 
 big enough to make little, investigative trips outside 
 the den when all was quiet. Ward was glad he had 
 found them and wiped them out of existence, but it 
 had not been pleasant work. 
 
 He wiped the perspiration off his face with his hand- 
 kerchief, pushed his hat to the back of his head, and 
 sat down on the ledge beside the pile of dirt he had 
 thrown out. He felt the need of a smoke, after all 
 that exertion. 
 
 It was while he was smoking and resting that he 
 first became conscious of the pile of dirt as something 
 more than the obstacle between himself and the wolf- 
 pups. He blew a little cloud of smoke from his mouth, 
 leaned and lifted a handful of sand, picked something 
 out of it, and looked at it intently. He said " Humph ! "
 
 WARD HUNTS WOLVES 109 
 
 skeptically. Then he turned his head and stared at 
 the ledge above and to the right of him, twisted half 
 around and scanned the steep slope immediately above 
 the earth bank, and then looked at the gulch beneath 
 him. He took his cigarette from his lips, said, " Well, 
 I '11 be darned ! " and put it back again. With his fore- 
 finger he turned over a small, rusty lump the size of 
 a pea, wiped it upon his sleeve, and bent over it eagerly, 
 holding it so that the light struck it revealingly. His 
 face glowed. Save the want of tenderness in his eyes, 
 he looked as though Billy Louise stood before him ; the 
 same guarded gladness, the same intent eagerness. 
 
 Ward sprawled over that pile of gravel and sand 
 and searched with his fingers, as young girls search 
 a thick bank of clover for the magic four leaves. He 
 found one other small lump that he kept, but beyond 
 that his search was barren of result. Still, that glow 
 remained in his face. Finally he roused himself as 
 though he realized that he was behaving foolishly. He 
 made himself another cigarette and smoked it fast, 
 keeping pace with his shuttling thoughts. And by the 
 time the paper tube was burned down to an inch-long 
 stub, he had won back his manner of imperturbable 
 calm; only his eyes betrayed a hidden excitement. 
 
 " Looks like there 's money in wolves," he said aloud 
 and laughed a little. " Old Lady Fortune, you want 
 to watch out, or I 'm liable to get the best of you yet ! 
 Looks like I Ve got a hand to draw to, now. Youp- 
 ee-ee I " His forced imperturbability exploded in the 
 yell, and after that he moved briskly. 
 
 " I've got to play safe on this," he warned himself, 
 while he scalped the last of the pups. " No use getting
 
 110 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 rattled. If she 's good as she looks, she 's fine. She '11 
 help boost my little bunch of cattle, and that 's all I 
 want. I ain't going to go hog-wild over it, like so 
 many do." 
 
 He went over and skinned the mother wolf, and with 
 the pelts in a strong-smelling bundle, returned to the 
 sand pile and filled his neckerchief as full as he could 
 tie it. Then he went down into the gulch, jumped the 
 creek with his load and got a foot wet where his 
 boot leaked along the sole and climbed hurriedly up 
 to where Rattler waited and dozed in the sunshine, 
 with the reins dropped to the ground. 
 
 Rattler objected to those fresh wolf-skins, and Ward 
 lifted a disciplinary boot-toe to his ribs. His mood 
 did not accept patiently any unnecessary delay in get- 
 ting home, and he succeeded in making Rattler aware 
 of his mood. Rattler laid back his ears and took the 
 trail in long, rabbit-jumps for spite, risking his own 
 and his master's bones unchecked and unchided. The 
 pace pleased Ward, and to the risk he gave no thought. 
 He was reconstructing his air-castles on broader lines 
 and smiling now and then to himself.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 HELP FOR THE COW BUSINESS 
 
 HE had no goldpan of his own, since this was not 
 a mining country, and his ambition had run in 
 a different channel. He, therefore, took the tin wash- 
 basin down to the cre^k and dumped the sand into it. 
 Then, squatting on his boot-heels at the edge of the 
 stream, he filled the basin with water and rocked it 
 gently with a rotary motion that proved him no novice 
 at the work. His eyes were sharper and more intent 
 in their gaze than Billy Louise had ever seen them, 
 and, though his movements were unhurried, they were 
 full of eagerness held in leash. 
 
 Several times he refilled the basin, and the amount 
 of sand grew less and less, until there remained only 
 a few spoonfuls of coarse gravel and a sediment that 
 clung to the bottom of the basin and moved sluggishly 
 around and around. He picked out the tiny pebbles 
 one by one and threw them in the creek. He peered 
 sharply at a small bit and held it in his fingers, while 
 he bent his face close to the pan, his eyes two gimlets 
 boring into the contents. 
 
 He got up stiffly, backed, and sat down upon the low 
 bank with his feet far apart and his shoulders bent, 
 while he stared at the little bit of mineral in his 
 fingers. 
 
 " Coarse gold, and not such a hell of a lot," he pro-
 
 112 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 nounced to himself with careful impartiality. " But 
 it 's pay dirt, and if there 's enough of it, it '11 help 
 a lot at this end of the cow business." He sat there 
 a long time, thinking and planning and holding him- 
 self sternly to cold reality, rejecting every possibility 
 that had the slightest symptom of being an air-castle. 
 He did not intend to let this thing turn his head or be- 
 tray him into any foolishness whatsoever. He was 
 going to look at the thing cold-bloodedly and put his 
 imagination in cold storage for the present. 
 
 His first impulse to ride straight to ihe Wolverine 
 and show Billy Louise these three tiny nuggets he 
 rejected as a bit of foolishness. He was perfectly will- 
 ing to trust Billy Louise with any secret he possessed, 
 but he knew that he would be feeding her imagination 
 with dangerous fuel. She would begin dreaming and 
 building castles and prospecting for herself, very likely ; 
 and that trail led oftenest to black disappointment. If 
 he made good, he would tell her when he told her 
 something else. And if the whole thing were just a 
 fluke, a stray deposit of a little gold that did not amount 
 to anything, then it would be best for her to know 
 nothing about it. Ward felt in himself, at that mo- 
 ment, the keen foretaste of bitter disappointment which 
 would follow such a certainty. He did not want Billy 
 Louise exposed to that pain. 
 
 He would tell her about the wolves, of course. It 
 was pretty hard not to tell her everything that con- 
 cerned himself, but the streak of native reticence in 
 his nature had been strengthened by the vicissitudes 
 of the life he had lived. While Billy Louise had found 
 the sole weak point which made that reticence scarcely
 
 HELP FOR THE COW BUSINESS 113 
 
 a barrier to full confidence, still he knew that he would 
 keep this from her if he made up his mind to it. 
 
 He would not tell anybody. He raised his head 
 and looked at the hills where his cattle would feed, 
 and pictured it cluttered with gold-hunters, greedy, un- 
 desirable interlopers doomed to disappointment- in the 
 long run. Ward had seen the gold fever sweep through 
 a community and spoil life for the weak ones who took 
 to chasing the will-o'-the-wisp of sudden wealth. Tramps 
 of the pick-and-pan brigade they should not come 
 swarming into these hills on any wild-goose chase, if 
 he could help it. And he could and should. This 
 was not, properly speaking, a gold country. He knew 
 it. The rock formations did not point to any great 
 deposit of the mineral, and if he had found one, it 
 was a fluke, an accident. He resolved that his first 
 consideration should be the keeping of his secret for 
 the mental well-being of his fellows. 
 
 Ward did not put it quite so altruistically. His 
 thoughts formed into sentences. 
 
 " This is cattle country. If men want to hunt gold, 
 they can do their hunting somewhere else. They can't 
 go digging up the whole blamed country just on the 
 chance of finding another pocket like this one. I 'm 
 in the cattle business myself. If I find any gold, it '11 
 go into cattle and stay there; and there won't be any 
 long-haired freaks pestering around here if I can help 
 it, and I reckon maybe I can, all right. 
 
 " I 'd sure like to talk it over with Billy, but what 
 she don't know won't worry her ; and I don't know yet 
 what I 've gone up against. Maybe old Dame For- 
 tune 's just played another joke on me played me
 
 114 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 for a fool again. I '11 take a chance, but I won't give 
 that little girl down below there anything to spoil her 
 sleep." 
 
 Ward's memory was like glue, and while it , held 
 things he would give much to forget, still it served 
 him well. He had ridden past a tiny, partly caved-in 
 dugout, months ago, where some wandering prospector 
 had camped while he braved the barrenness of the hills 
 and streams hereabout. Ward had dismounted and 
 glanced into the cavelike hut. ISTow, after he had eaten 
 a few mouthfuls of dinner, he rode straight over to 
 that dugout and got the goldpan he remembered to 
 have seen there. It was not in the best condition, of 
 course. It was battered and bent, but it would do for 
 the present. 
 
 By the time he reached the wolf den, the sun was 
 nearing the western rim of hills, but Ward had time 
 to examine the locality more carefully than he had 
 done at first and to wash a couple of pans of gravel. 
 The test elated him perceptibly; for while there did 
 not seem to be the makings of a millionaire in that 
 gravel bank, he judged roughly that he could make a 
 plumber's wages if he worked hard enough and that 
 looked pretty good to a fellow who had worked all his 
 life for forty dollars a month. " Two-bits a pan, just 
 about," he put it to himself. " And I '11 have to pack 
 the dirt down here to the creek ; but I '11 dig a nice 
 little bunch of cattle out of that gravel bank before 
 snow flies, or I miss my guess a mile." 
 
 As nearly as he could figure, he had chanced upon 
 a split channel. For ages, he judged, the water had 
 run upon that ledge, leaving the streak of gravel and
 
 HELP FOR THE COW BUSINESS 115 
 
 what little gold it had carried down from the mountains. 
 Then some freshet had worn over the edge of the break 
 in the rock until the ledge and its deposit was left high 
 and dry on the side of the gulch, while the creek flowed 
 through the gully it had formed below. It might not 
 be the correct explanation, but it satisfied Ward and 
 encouraged him to believe that the streak of pay gravel 
 lay along the ledge within easy reach. 
 
 He tried to trace the ledge up and down the gulch 
 and to estimate the probable extent of that pay streak. 
 Then he gave it up in self-defense. " I 've got to watch 
 my dodgers," he admonished himself, " or I '11 go plumb 
 loco and imagine I 'm a millionaire. I '11 pan what 
 I can get at and let it go at that. And I Ve got to 
 count what gold shows up in the sack and no more. 
 Good Lord ! I can't afford to make a fool of myself 
 at this stage of the game ! I 've got to sit right down 
 on my imagination and stick to hard-boiled facts." 
 
 He went home in a very good humor with himself 
 and the world, for all that. So far as he could see, 
 the thing that had been bothering him was settled most 
 satisfactorily. He had wanted to spend the summer 
 on his claim, making improvements and watching over 
 his cattle. There was fence to build and some hay 
 to cut; and he would like to build another room on to 
 the cabin. "Ward had certain fastidious instincts, and 
 he rebelled inwardly at eating, sleeping, and cooking 
 all in one small room. But he had not been able to 
 solve the problem of earning a living while he did all 
 this to say nothing of buying supplies. And he 
 really needed a team and tools, if he meant to put up 
 any hay.
 
 116 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Now, with that pay gravel within reach, and the gold 
 running twenty-five cents to the pan, and the occa- 
 sional tiny nuggets jumping up the yield now and then, 
 he could go ahead and do the things he wanted to do. 
 And he could dream about having a certain gray-eyed 
 girl for his wife, without calling himself names after- 
 ward. 
 
 So he set to work the next morning in dead earnest 
 with pick, shovel, and pan, to make the most of his 
 little find. He shoveled the dirt and gravel into a 
 gunny sack, threw the sack as far as he could over 
 the ledge at the end, where it was not hidden and clut- 
 tered with the cherry-trees and service berries below, 
 and when it stopped rolling, he carried it the rest 
 of the way. Then he panned it in the little creek, 
 watching like a hawk for nuggets and the finer gold. 
 It was back-breaking work, and he felt that he earned 
 every cent he got. But the cents were there, in good 
 gold, and he was perfectly willing to work for what 
 he received in this world. 
 
 After a couple of weeks he stopped long enough to 
 make a hurried trip to Hardup, a little town forty 
 miles farther up in the hills. In the little bank there 
 he exchanged his gold harvest for coin of the realm, 
 and he was well satisfied with the result. It was not 
 a fortune, nor was he likely to find one in the hills. 
 But he bought a team, wagon, and harness with the 
 money, and he had enough left over for a /two-months' 
 grubstake and plenty of Durham and papers and a few 
 magazines. That left him just enough silver to pay 
 Rattler's bill at the livery stable. Nothing startling, 
 but still not bad that wolf-den find.
 
 HELP FOR THE COW BUSINESS 117 
 
 He had a lot of trouble getting his wagon to his 
 claim, but by judicious driving and the liberal use 
 of a log-chain for a rough lock, he managed to land the 
 whole outfit in the little flat before the cabin without 
 any mishap. After that he settled down to work the 
 thing systematically. 
 
 One day he would pan the sandy gravel, and the next 
 day he would rest his back digging post-holes or some- 
 thing comparatively easy. He worked from daybreak 
 until it was too dark to see, and he never left his claim- 
 except when he went to wash gold up in the gulch. 
 The world moved on, and he neither knew nor cared 
 how it moved; for the time being his world had nar- 
 rowed amazingly. If Billy Louise had not been down 
 there in that other world, he would scarcely have given 
 it a thought, so absorbed was he in the delightful task 
 of putting a good, solid foundation under his favorite 
 air-castle. That fascinated him, held him to his work 
 in spite of his hunger to see her and talk with her and 
 watch the changing lights in her eyes and the fleeting 
 expressions of her face. 
 
 Some day he hoped he would have her with him 
 always. He put it stronger than that: Some day he 
 would have her with him, there in that little valley he 
 had chosen ; riding with him over those hills that smiled 
 and seemed to stand there waiting for their invasions, 
 with the echoes ready to fling back his exultant voice 
 when he called to her or sang for her or laughed at 
 her; ready to imitate enviously her voice when she 
 laughed back at him. He wanted that day to come 
 soon, and so with days and hours and minutes he be- 
 came a miser and would not spend them in the luxury
 
 118 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 of a visit to her. It seemed to him that his longing 
 for her measured itself hy the enormous appetite he 
 had for work, that summer. 
 
 Week followed week as he followed that thin, fluc- 
 tuating streak of pay gravel along the ledge. Some- 
 times it was rich enough to set the pulse pounding in 
 his temples ; sometimes it was so poor that he was dis- 
 gusted to the point of abandoning the work. But every 
 day he worked, it yielded him something though 
 there was a week when he averaged ahout fifty cents a 
 day and lived with a scowl on his face and lie kept 
 at it. 
 
 He went out in June and bought a mower and rake 
 and then spent precious days getting them into his val- 
 ley. There was no road, you see, and he was compelled 
 to haul them in a wagon, through country where na- 
 ture never meant four wheels to- pass. He hired a man 
 for a month one of those migratory individuals who 
 works for a week or a month in one place and then 
 wanders on till his money is spent and he drove that 
 man as relentlessly as he drove himself. Together 
 they accomplished much, while the goldpan lay hid- 
 den under a buck brush and Ward's waking moments 
 were filled with an uneasy sense of wasted time. Still, 
 it was for the good of his ranch and his cattle and his 
 air-castle that he toiled in the gulch, and it was neces- 
 sary that he should put up what hay he could. There 
 would be calves to feed next winter, he hoped; and 
 when the hardest storms came, his horse would need a 
 little. The rest of the stock would have to rustle ; and 
 that was why he had chosen this nook among the hills, 
 where the wind would sweep the high slopes bare of
 
 HELP FOR THE COW BUSINESS 119 
 
 snow, and the gulches would give shelter with their 
 heavy thickets of quaking aspens and willow and alder. 
 
 He was thankful when the creek bottom was shaved 
 clean of grass, and the stack beside his corral was of a 
 satisfying length and height. The summer had been 
 kind to the grass-growth, and his hay crop was larger 
 than he had expected. A few days had remained of 
 the month, and Ward had used them to extend his fence 
 so as to give more pasturage to his calves in mild 
 weather. After that he paid the man, directed him 
 to the nearest point on the stage road, and breathed 
 thanks that he was alone again, and could go back to 
 his plan of digging a nice little bunch of cattle out of 
 that bank before snow flew.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 WHEW EMOTIONS ARE BOTTLED 
 
 ONE day, when the sun was warm and the breeze 
 that filtered down the gorge was pleasantly cool, 
 Ward straightened his aching back, waded out to dry 
 ground, and sat down to rest a few minutes and make 
 a smoke. His interest in the work had oozed steadily 
 since sunrise, and left nothing but the back-breaking 
 toil. He had found a nugget the size of a hazelnut in 
 the second pan that morning, so it was not discourage- 
 ment that had made his monotonous movements grow 
 slow and reluctant. Until he had smoked half the 
 cigarette, he himself did not know what it was that 
 ailed him. Then he flung up his head quite sud- 
 denly and gave a snort of understanding. 
 
 " Hang the gold ! I 'm going visiting for a change." 
 He concealed the goldpan and his pick, shovel, and 
 sacks in the clump of service berries and chokeberries 
 that grew at the foot of the ledge and hid from view 
 the bank where he dug out his pay dirt. That did not 
 take more than two or three minutes, and he made 
 them up after he had swung into the saddle on the 
 farther hillside. It was not a good trail, and except 
 for his first exultant ride home that way, he had rid- 
 den it at a walk. Now he made Rattler trot where 
 loping was too risky; and so he came clattering down 
 the steep trail into the little flat beside his cabin. He
 
 EMOTIONS BOTTLED 121 
 
 would have something to eat, and feed Rattler a lit- 
 tle hay, and then ride on to the Wolverine. And now 
 that he had yielded to his hunger to see the one person 
 in the world for whom he felt any tenderness, he grudged 
 every minute that separated him from her. He loos- 
 ened the cinch with one or two yanks and left the saddle 
 on Rattler, to save time. He turned him loose in the 
 hay corral with the bridle off, rather than spend the 
 extra minutes it would take to put him in a stall and 
 carry him a forkful of hay. He thought he would not- 
 bother to start a fire and boil coffee ; he would eat 
 the sour-dough bread and fried rabbit hams he had 
 taken with him for lunch, and he would start down 
 the creek in half an hour. He imagined himself an 
 extremely sensible young man and considerate of his 
 horse's comfort, to give him thirty precious minutes in 
 which to eat hay. It was not absolutely necessary ; Rat- 
 tler could travel forty miles instead of twenty without 
 another mouthful, so far as that was concerned. Ward 
 was simply behaving in a perfectly normal manner 
 and was not letting his feelings get the better of him 
 in the slightest degree. As to his impromptu vacation, 
 he was certainly entitled to it ; he ought to have taken 
 one long ago, he told himself virtuously. He had panned 
 dirt all day, the Fourth of July ; that was last week> he 
 believed. And he had not made more than two dol- 
 lars, either. No, he was not behaving foolishly at all. 
 He had himself well in hand. 
 
 Then he flung open the door f his cabin and went 
 white with sheer astonishment. 
 
 " 'Lo, Ward ! " Billy Louise had been standing be- 
 hind the door, and she jumped out at him, laughing,
 
 122 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 just as if she were ten years old instead of nearly 
 twenty. 
 
 Ward tried to say, " 'Lo, Bill," in return, but the 
 words would not come. His lips trembled too much, 
 and his voice was pinched out in his throat. His mind 
 refused to tell him what he ought to do; but his arms 
 did not wait upon his paralyzed mental processes. They 
 shot out of their own accord, caught Billy Louise, and 
 brought her close against his pounding heart. Ward 
 was startled and a little shocked at what he had done, 
 but he held her closer and closer, until Billy Louise 
 was gasping from -something more than surprise. 
 
 Next, Ward's lips joined the mutiny against his rea- 
 son, and laid themselves upon the parted, panting lips 
 of Billy Louise, as though that was where they be- 
 longed. 
 
 Billy Louise had probably not expected anything 
 like that, though of a truth one can never safely guess 
 at what is in the mind of a girl. She tried to pull 
 herself free, and when she could make no impression 
 upon the grip of those arms they had been growing 
 muscles of iron manipulating that goldpan, remem- 
 ber ! she very sensibly yielded to necessity and stood 
 still. 
 
 " Stop, Ward ! You I you have n't any right 
 to " 
 
 " Well, give me the right, then." Ward managed to 
 find voice enough to make the demand, and then he 
 kissed her many times before he attempted to say an- 
 other word. Lord, but he had been hungry for her, 
 these last three months! 
 
 " You '11 give me the right, won't you, Wilhemina ? "
 
 EMOTIONS BOTTLED 123 
 
 he murmured against her ear, brushing a lock of hair 
 away with his lips. " You know you belong to me, 
 don't you? And I belong to you body and soul. 
 You know that, don't you ? I 've known it ever since 
 the world was made. I knew it when God said, ' Let 
 there be light,' and there was light. You were it" 
 
 " You sill-y thing." Billy Louise did not seem to 
 know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. " What do 
 you think you 're talking about, anyway ? " 
 
 " About the way the world was made." Ward loos- 
 ened his clasp a little and looked down deep into her 
 eyes. " My world, I mean." He bent and kissed her 
 again, gravely and very, very tenderly. " Oh, Wil- 
 hemina, you know " he waited, gazing down with 
 that intent look which had a new softness behind it 
 " you know there 's nothing in this world but you. As 
 far as I 'm concerned, there isn't. There never will 
 be." 
 
 Billy Louise reached up her hands to his shoulders 
 and tried to give him a shake. " Is that why you 've 
 stuck yourself in these hills for three whole months and 
 never come near ? You fibber ! " 
 
 " That 's why, lady-girl. I 've been sticking here, 
 working like one son-of-a-gun for you. So I could 
 have you sooner." He lifted his bent head and looked 
 around the little cabin like a man who has just wak- 
 ened to his surroundings. " I knocked off work a 
 little while ago, and I was going to see you. I could n't 
 stand it any longer. And here you iss ! " he went on, 
 giving her shoulders a little squeeze. " A straight case 
 of ' two souls with but a single thought,' don't you 
 reckon ? "
 
 124 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Billy Louise, by a visible effort, brought the situa- 
 tion down to earth. She twisted herself free and went 
 over to the stove and saved a frying-pan of potatoes 
 from burning to a crisp. 
 
 " I don't know about your soul/' she said, glancing 
 back at him. " I happen to have two or three thoughts 
 in mine. One is that I 'm half starved. The second 
 is that you're not acting a bit nice, under the cir- 
 cumstances ; no perfectly polite young man makes love 
 to a girl when she is supposedly helpless and under 
 his protection." She stopped there to wrinkle her nose 
 at him and twist her mouth humorously. " The third 
 thought is that if you don't behave, I shall go straight 
 home and never be nice to you again. And," she added, 
 getting back of the coffee-pot which looked new 
 " the rest of my soul is one great big blob of ques- 
 tion-marks. If you can eat and talk at the same time, 
 you may tell me what this frantic industry is all about. 
 If you can't, I '11 have to wait till after dinner ; not 
 even my curiosity is going to punish my poor tummy 
 any longer." She pulled a pan of biscuits from the 
 oven, lifted them out one at a time with dainty little 
 nabs because they were hot, and stole a glance now 
 and then at Ward from under her eyebrows. 
 
 Ward stood and looked at her until the food was 
 all on the table. He was breathing unnaturally, and 
 his jaws were set hard together. When she pushed a 
 box up to the table and sat down upon it, and rested 
 her elbows on the oilcloth and looked straight at him 
 with her chin nested in her two palms, he drew a long 
 breath, hunched his shoulders with some mental sur- 
 render, and grinned wryly.
 
 EMOTIONS BOTTLED 125 
 
 " So be it," he yielded, throwing his hat upon the 
 bunk. " I kinda overplayed my hand, anyway. I 
 most humblj ask your pardon ! " He bowed farcically 
 and took up the wash-basin from its bench just outside 
 the door. 
 
 " You see, William Louisa," he went on quizzically, 
 when he had seated himself opposite her and was help- 
 ing himself to the potatoes, " when a young lady in- 
 vades strange territory, and hides behind strange doors, 
 and jumps out at an unsuspecting but terribly well- 
 meaning young man, she 's apt to get a surprise. When 
 emotions are bottled " 
 
 " Never mind the bottled emotions. I 'd like some 
 potatoes, if you don't want them all. I see you have n't 
 the faintest idea how to treat a guest. Charlie Pox 
 would have died before he would help himself and 
 set down the dish away out of my reach. You could 
 stick pins into him till he howled, but you could n't 
 make him be rude to a lady." 
 
 " I 'd sure like to," muttered Ward ambiguously and 
 handed her every bit of food within his reach. 
 
 " You can talk and eat at the same time, I see. 
 So tell me what you 've been doing all this while." 
 Billy Louise spoke lightly, even flippantly, but her eyes 
 were making lore to him shyly, whether she knew it 
 or not. 
 
 " Working," answered Ward promptly and briefly. 
 He was thinking at the rate of a million thoughts a 
 minute, it seemed to him, and he was afraid to let 
 go of himself and say what he thought. One thing 
 he knew beyond all doubt, and that was that he must 
 be careful or he would see his air-castle blow up in
 
 126 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 small fragments and come down a hopeless ruin. He 
 needed time to think, and Billy Louise was not giv- 
 ing him even a minute. So he clutched at two deci- 
 sions which instinct told him might help him win to 
 safety: He would not make love, and he would not 
 tell Billy Louise about the gold. 
 
 " Working ! Well, so have I. But working at what ? 
 Did you hire out to Junkins again ? I thought you said 
 you would n't till fall." Billy Louise was watching 
 Ward rather closely, perhaps to see how far she might 
 trust his recovered inscrutability. " Why don't you 
 show some human inquisitiveness about my being 
 here ? " she asked irrelevantly, just as Ward was hast- 
 ily choosing how he would answer her without saying 
 too much. 
 
 " It would n't be polite to be inquisitive about a 
 lady, would it ? " Ward retorted, thankful for the change 
 of subject. 
 
 " N-no but, then, you never bother about being 
 just polite ! Charlie Fox would " 
 
 " Charlie Fox would think you came to see him," 
 Ward asserted uncharitably. " My head is n't swelled 
 to that extent. Why did you come, anyway ? " 
 
 " To see you." Billy Louise lost her nerve when 
 she saw the light leap into his eyes. " To see whether 
 you were dead or not," she revised hastily, " so mom- 
 mie would stop worrying about you. Mommie has 
 pestered the life out of me for the last month, think- 
 ing you might be sick or hurt or something. So I 
 was riding up this way, anyway, and ' 
 
 " I see I '11 have to ride down and prove to mommie 
 that I 'm very much alive. I 'm sure glad to know that
 
 EMOTIONS BOTTLED 127 
 
 somebody takes an interest in me as if I were a real 
 human." Ward's eyes watched furtively her face, but 
 Billy Louise refused even to nibble at the bait. 
 
 " Why didn't you come before, then ? You know 
 mommie likes to have you." 
 
 " How about mommie's child ? " Ward's look was 
 dangerous to his good resolutions. 
 
 " Listen here, Ward." Billy Louise took refuge 
 behind her terrible frankness. " If you make love, I 
 won't like you half as well. Don't you know that 
 all the time when I used to play with my pretend Ward 
 Warren, he he never made love ? " A dimple tried 
 to show itself in her cheek and was sent about its busi- 
 ness with a twist of her lips. " My pretend Ward 
 was lovely; he liked me to pieces, but he never came 
 right out and said so. He he skated around the sub- 
 ject " Billy Louise illustrated the skating process 
 by drawing her forefinger in a wide circle around her 
 cup. " He made love with his eyes and he kissed 
 me with his voice but he never spoiled it with 
 words." 
 
 Ward grunted a word that sounded like " dam- 
 chump." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind ! " Billy Louise flew to the 
 defense of her " pretend." " He knew just exactly how 
 a girl likes to be made love to. And, anyway, you 've 
 been doing the selfsame thing yourself, Ward War- 
 ren, till just now. And " 
 
 "Oh, have I?" 
 
 " Yes, you have. And I might have known better 
 than to to startle you. You always, eternally, do 
 something nobody 'd ever dream of your doing. The
 
 128 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 first time, when I threw that chip, you pulled a gun 
 on ine " The voice of Billy Louise squeezed down 
 to a wisp of a whisper. Her eyes were remorseful. 
 " Oh, Ward, I did n't mean to to " 
 
 " It 's all right. I 've got it coming." It was as 
 if a mask had dropped before Ward's features. Even 
 his eyes looked strange and hard in that face of set 
 muscles, though the thin, bitter lips and quivering 
 nostrils showed that there was feeling behind it all. 
 " I see where you 're right, William. You need n't be 
 afraid; I won't make love again." 
 
 Billy Louise looked as though she wanted to beat 
 something herself, most likely. She stared as they 
 stare who watch from the dock while a loved one slips 
 farther and farther away on a voyage from which 
 there may be no return; only Billy Louise was not 
 one to watch and do nothing else. 
 
 "Now, Ward, don't be silly." The fright in her 
 voice was overlaid with a sharpened tenderness. " You 
 know perfectly well I did n't mean that. You 're only 
 proving that in the human problem you 're raised 
 to Stop looking- darning-needles at that coffee-pot 
 and listen here ! " Billy Louise leaned over the table 
 and caught at his nearest hand, which was a closed 
 fist. With her own little fingers digging persistently 
 :nto the tensed muscles, she pried the fist open. 
 " Ward, behave yourself, or I '11 go straight home ! " 
 She held his straightened fingers in her own and drew 
 a sharp breath because they lay inert dead things 
 so far as any response came to her clasp; the first and 
 middle fingers yellowed a little from cigarettes, the 
 nails soft and pink from much immersion in water.
 
 EMOTIONS BOTTLED 129 
 
 A tale they told, if Billy Louise had been paying 
 attention. 
 
 " Ward, you certainly are the limit ! You know 
 as well as I do that that does n't make a particle of 
 difference. If I had been a boy instead of a girl, and 
 had bucked the world for a living, I 'd probably have 
 done worse ; and, anyway, it does n't matter ! " Her 
 voice rose as if she were growing desperate. "I 
 I like you to pieces, Ward, and I 'd I 'd rather 
 marry you than anyone else. But I don't want to 
 think about that for a long while. I don't want to 
 be engaged, or or any different than the way we Ve 
 been. It was good to be just pals. It was like my 
 pretend Ward. I I always wanted him to love 
 me, but I wouldn't play that he told me, Ward. 
 Oh, don't you see ? " She shut her teeth hard together, 
 because if she had n't she would have been crying in 
 another ten seconds. 
 
 " I see." Ward spoke dully, evenly, and he still 
 stared at the coffee-pot with that gimlet gaze of his 
 that made Billy Louise want to scream. " I see a 
 whole lot that I 'd been shutting my eyes to. Why don't 
 you feel insulted " 
 
 " Ward Warren, if you 're going to act like a 
 a " I suspect that Billy Louise, in her desperation, 
 was tempted to use a swear word, but she resisted the 
 temptation. She got up and went around to him, hesi- 
 tated while she looked down at his set face, drew a long 
 breath, and blinked back some tears of self-reproach 
 because of the devils of memory she had unwittingly 
 turned loose to jibe at this man. 
 
 "This is why," she said softly; and leaning, she
 
 130 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 pressed her lips down upon his bitter ones and let 
 them lie there for a dozen heart-beats. 
 
 Ward's face relaxed, and his eyes went to hers with 
 the hungry tenderness she had seen so often there. He 
 leaned his head against her and threw up an arm to 
 clasp her close. He did not say a word. 
 
 " After I have kissed a man," said Billy Louise, 
 struggling back to her old whimsical manner, " it won't 
 be a bit polite for him to have any doubts of my feel- 
 ings toward him, or my belief in him, or his belief in 
 himself." Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, 
 just where the wave was the most pronounced. 
 
 She had drawn the poison. Now she set herself to 
 restore a perfectly normal atmosphere. 
 
 " He 's going to be just exactly the same good pal 
 he was before," she went on, speaking softly. " And 
 he ? s going to bring some water so I can wash the 
 dishes, and then bring Blue so I can go home, and he 
 is n't going to say a single thing more about any- 
 thing that matters two whoops." 
 
 Ward's clasp tightened and then grew loose. He 
 drew a long breath and let her go. 
 
 " You do like me a little bit, don't you ? " His 
 eyes were like the eyes of the damned asking for 
 water. 
 
 " I like you two little bits." Billy Louise took his 
 face between her two palms and smiled down at him 
 bravely, with the pure candor that was a part of her. 
 " But I don't want us to be anything but pals ; not 
 for a long while. It 's so good, just being friends. 
 And once we get away from that point, we can't go 
 back to it again, ever. And I 'm sure it 's good enough
 
 EMOTIONS BOTTLED 131 
 
 to be worth while making it last as long as we can. 
 So now " 
 
 " It 's going to be quite a contract, Wilhemina." 
 Ward still looked at her with his heart in his eyes. 
 
 " Oh, no, it won't ! You 've had lots of practice," 
 Billy Louise assured him confidently and began putting 
 the few dishes in a neat little pile. " And, anyway, 
 you are perfectly able to handle any kind of a con- 
 tract. All you need do is make up your mind. And 
 that 's made up already. So the next thing on the 
 programme is to bring a bucket of water. Did you 
 notice anything different about your cabin? I 
 thought you bragged to me about being such a good 
 housekeeper ! Why, you had n't swept the floor, even, 
 since goodness knows when. And I 've made up a 
 bundle of your dirty shirts and things that I found 
 under the bed, and I 'm going to take them home and 
 let Phrebe wash them. She can do them this evening 
 and have them ready for you to bring back to-morrow. 
 When I was a kid and went to see Marthy and Jase, 
 I used to promise them cookies with ' raisings ' in the 
 middle. I thought there was nothing better in the 
 world. I was just thinking I '11 maybe bake you 
 some cookies with raisings on top, to bring home. You 
 don't seem to waste much time cooking stuff. Bacon 
 and beans, and potatoes and sour-dough bread: that 
 seems to be your regular bill of fare. And tomatoes 
 for Sunday, I reckon ; I saw some empty cans outside. 
 Don't you ever feel like coming down to the ranch and 
 getting a square meal ? " 
 
 " Oh, you William the Conqueror ! " Ward stood 
 with the water bucket in his hand, and looked at her
 
 132 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 with that smile hidden just behind his lips and his 
 eyes. " You sure sahe how to make things come your 
 way, don't you ? " He started for the door, stopped 
 with his toes over the threshold, and looked back at 
 her. " If I knew how to get what I want, as easily 
 as you do," he said, "we'd be married and keeping 
 house before to-morrow night ! " He laughed grimly 
 at the start she gave. " As it is, you 're the doctor, 
 I William Louisa. We remain mere friends ! " With 
 that he went off to the creek. 
 
 He was gone at least four times as long as was 
 necessary, but he came back whistling, and he did t 
 make love to her except with his eyes.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THIS PAL BUSINESS 
 
 "TTDU'VE s ot q uite a lot of hav P ut U P> J see >" 
 
 X Billy Louise remarked, when they were leaving. 
 
 " Sure. I told you I 've been working." Ward's 
 tone was cheerful to the point of exuberance. He felt 
 as though he could work day and night now, with the 
 memory of Billy Louise's lips upon his own. 
 
 " You never put up that hay alone," she told him 
 bluntly, " and you need n't try to make me believe you 
 did. I know better." 
 
 " How do you know ? " Ward glanced over his 
 shoulder at the stack, then humorously at her. He 
 recognized the futility of trying to fool Billy Louise, 
 but he was in the mood to tease her. 
 
 " Humph ! I 've helped stack hay myself, if you 
 please. I can tell a one-man stack when I see it. Who 
 did you get to help ? Junkins ? " 
 
 " No, a half-baked hobo I ran across. I had him 
 here a month." 
 
 " Oh ! Are those your horses down there ? They 
 can't be." Last April, Billy Louise had been very 
 well informed as to Ward's resources. She was evi- 
 dently trying to match her knowledge of their well- 
 defined limitations with what she saw now of pros- 
 perity in its first stages.
 
 134 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " They are, though. A dandy span of mares. I gt 
 a bargain there." 
 
 Billy Louise pondered a minute. " Ward, yon 
 are n't going into debt, are you ? " Her tone was anx- 
 ious. " It 's so beastly hard to get out, once you 're 
 in!" 
 
 " I don't owe anybody a red cent, William Louisa. 
 Honest." 
 
 " Well, but " Billy Louise looked at him from 
 under puckered brows. 
 
 Ward laughed oddly. " I 've been working, Wil- 
 liam. Last spring I hunted wolves for awhile ; old 
 ones and dens. They 'd killed a couple of calves for 
 me, and I got out after them. I made good at it ; 
 the bounty counts up pretty fast, you know." 
 
 " Yes-s, it does." Billy Louise bit her lips thought- 
 fully, turned and looked back at the haystack, at the 
 long line of new, wire fence, and at the two heavy- 
 set mares feeding contentedly along the creek. " There 
 must be money in wolves," she remarked evenly. 
 
 " There is. At least, I made good money hunting 
 them." The smile was hiding behind Ward's lips again 
 and threatening to come boldly to the surface. " They 
 have n't bothered you any, I hope ? " 
 
 " No," said Billy Louise, " they haven't. I guess 
 they must be all up your way." 
 
 For the life of him Ward could not tell to a cer- 
 tainty whether there was sarcasm in her tone or whether 
 she spoke in perfect innocence. The shrewdest of us 
 deceive ourselves sometimes. Ward might have known 
 he could not fool Billy Louise, who had careworn ex- 
 perience of the cost of ranch improvements and could
 
 THIS PAL BUSINESS 135 
 
 figure almost the exact number of wolf-bounties it would 
 take to pay for what he had put into his claim. Still, 
 he was right in thinking she would not quiz him be- 
 yond a certain point. She seemed to have reached that 
 point quite suddenly, for she did not say another word 
 about Ward's affairs. 
 
 '* What all 's been happening in the world, anyway ? " 
 he asked, when they had exhausted some very trivial 
 subjects. " Your world, I mean. Anything new or 
 startling taken place ? " 
 
 " Not a thing. Marthy was down last week and 
 spent the day with us. I never saw anybody change 
 as much as she has. She looks almost neat, these days. 
 And she can't talk about anything but Charlie and how 
 well he 's doing. She lets him do most of the man- 
 aging, I think. And he had some money left to him, 
 this spring, and has put it into cattle. He bought quite 
 a lot of mixed stock from Seabeck and some from 
 Winters and kelson, Marthy says. I passed some of 
 his cattle coming up." 
 
 " Going to have a rival in the business, am I ? " 
 Ward laughed. " I was figuring on being the only thriv- 
 ing young cattle-king in this neck of the woods, my- 
 self." 
 
 " Well, Charlie 's in a fair way to beat you to it. 
 I wish," sighed Billy Louise, " some kind person would 
 leave me a bunch of money. Don't you? Cattle are 
 coming up a little all the time. I 'd like to own a 
 lot more than I do." 
 
 " Well, we " Ward stopped and reconsidered. 
 " If wolfing continues to pay like it has done," he said, 
 with a twitch of the lips, " I intend to stick my little
 
 136 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Y 6 monogram on a few more cowhides before snow 
 flies, William. And when you 've had enough of this 
 friend business " 
 
 " Oh, by that time we '11 all be rich ! " Billy Louise 
 declared lightly, and for a wonder Ward 'was -wise 
 enough to let that close the subject. 
 
 " We 're getting neighbors down below, too," she b- 
 served later. " I did n't tell you that. Down the river 
 a few miles. The country is settling up all the time," 
 she sighed. " Pretty soon there won't be any more 
 wilderness left. I like it up where you Ve located. 
 That will stay wild forever, won't it? They can't 
 plant spuds on those hills, anyway. 
 
 " And did you hear, Ward ? Seabeck and some 
 of the others hare been losing stock, they say. You 
 know Marthy lost four calves last fall, by some means. 
 Charlie Fox was terribly worried about it, though it 
 was his own fault, and well, I thought at the time 
 someone had taken them, and I think so still. And 
 just the other day one of Seabeck's men stopped at 
 the ranch, and he told me they 're shy some cows 
 and calves. They can't imagine what went with them, 
 and they 're lying low and not saying anything much 
 about it. You haven't heard or seen anything, hare 
 you, Ward?" 
 
 " I 've stuck so close to the hills I have n't heard 
 or seen anything," Ward affirmed. " It 's amazing, 
 the way the days slip by when a fellow 's busy all the 
 time. Except for two trips out the other way, to 
 Hardup, I have n't been three miles from my claim 
 all spring." 
 
 " Hardup ! That 's where the bank was robbed, a few
 
 THIS PAL BUSINESS 137 
 
 weeks ago, is n't it ? The stage-driver told me about 
 it." 
 
 " I don't know ; I had n't heard anything about it. 
 I have n't been there for a month and more," said Ward 
 easily. " Nearer two months, come to think of it. I 
 was there after a mower and rake and some wire." 
 
 " Oh ! " Billy Louise glanced at him sidelong and 
 added several more wolves to the number she had men- 
 tally put down to Ward's credit. 
 
 Ward twisted in the saddle so that he faced her, 
 and his eyes were dancing with mischief. " Honest, 
 William, I 'm not wading into debt. Every cent I 've 
 put into that place this summer I made hunting wolves. 
 That 's a fact, Wilhemina." 
 
 " I wish you 'd tell me how, so I can do it, too," 
 Billy Louise sighed, convinced by his tone and flat 
 statement, yet feeling certain there was some " catch " 
 to it, after all. It was exactly like a riddle that sounds 
 perfectly plain and simple to the ears, and to the rea- 
 son utterly impossible. 
 
 " Well, I will when you 're through playing pals," 
 he assured her cruelly. Ward did not know women 
 rery well, but he believed curiosity to be one of the 
 strongest traits in the sex. " That 's a bargain, Wil- 
 liam Louisa, and I '11 shake hands on it if you like. 
 When you 've had enough of this just-friend business, 
 I '11 show you how I dig dollars outa wolf-dens." He 
 grinned at the puzzled face of her. It was a riddle, 
 and he had practically put the answer before her, and 
 still she could not see it. There was a little streak 
 of devilment in Ward, and happiness was uncovering 
 the streak.
 
 138 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " I never said I was crazy to know," Billy Louise 
 squelched him promptly. " Not that crazy, anyway. 
 'I '11 live quite as long without knowing, I reckon." 
 
 She almost won her point because Ward did not 
 know women very well. He hesitated, gave her a quick, 
 questioning glance, and actually opened his lips to tell 
 her all about it. He got as far as, " Oh, well, I sup- 
 pose I '11 have to " when Billy Louise saw a rattle- 
 snake in the trail ahead and spurred up to kill it with 
 her rope. She really was crazy to know the answer 
 to the riddle, but a rattlesnake will interrupt anything 
 from a proposal of marriage to a murder. 
 
 Ward's fingers had gone into the pocket in his shirt 
 where the nugget he had found that morning was sag- 
 ging the cloth a little. He had been on the point of 
 giving it to Billy Louise, but he let it stay where it 
 was and instead took down his own rope to get after 
 the snake, that had crawled under a bush and there 
 showed a disposition to fight. And since Blue was 
 no fonder of rattlesnakes -than he was of mud, Billy 
 Louise could not bring him close enough for a direct 
 blow. 
 
 " Get back, and I '11 show you why I named this 
 cayuse Battler," Ward shouted. " I '11 bet I 've killed 
 five hundred snakes with him " 
 
 " Almost as many as you have wolves ! " Billy Louise 
 snapped back at him and so lost her point just when she 
 had practically gained it. Ward certainly would not 
 tell her, after that stab. 
 
 Rattler perked his ears forward toward the strident 
 buzzing which once heard is never forgotten, and which 
 is never heard without a tensing of nerves. He sighted
 
 THIS PAL BUSINESS 139 
 
 the snake, coiled and ready for war in the small shade 
 of a rabbit-bush. He circled the spot warily, his head 
 turned sidewise, and his eyes fixed upon the flattened, 
 ugly head with its thread of a darting tongue. 
 
 Ward pulled his gun, " threw down " on the snake, 
 and cut off its head with a bullet. 
 
 " I could have done that myself," Billy Louise as- 
 serted jealously. 
 
 "Well, I forgot. Next time I'll let you do the 
 shooting. I was going to show you how Rattler helps. 
 He '11 circle around just right so I can make one swing: 
 of the rope do. But Mr. Snake stuck too close to 
 that rabbit brush; and I was afraid if I drove him 
 out of there with my rope, he 'd get under those rocks. 
 I 'm sorry, Wilhemina. I did n't think." 
 
 " Oh, I can get all the snake-shooting I want, any 
 time." Billy Louise laughed good-humoredly. " I 
 wish you 'd give Blue a few lessons the old sin- 
 ner!" 
 
 " Not on your life, I won't." Ward leaned from 
 the saddle, picked up the snake by the tail, pinched 
 off the rattles, and dropped the repulsive thing to the 
 ground with a slight shiver of relief. He gave the 
 rattles to Billy Louise. " I 'm glad Blue does feel 
 a wholesome respect for rattlers ; he '11 take better care 
 of himself and his mistress. With me it doesn't 
 matter." 
 
 " Oh does n't it ? " asked Billy Louise, and there 
 was that in her tone that made Ward's heart give a 
 flop. " There 's some of Marthy's cattle right ahead," 
 she added hurriedly, seizing the first trifle with which 
 to neutralize the effect of that tone.
 
 140 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " MK monogram," said Ward absently, reading the 
 brand mechanically, as is the habit of your true range 
 man. " Pretty fresh, too. Must have just bought 
 them." 
 
 " He got them a month or so ago," said Billy Louise. 
 " Marthy says " 
 
 " A month ? " Ward turned and gave the cow near- 
 est him a keener look. " Pretty good condition," he 
 observed, quite idly. " Say, William, when these hills 
 get filled up with Y6es and big Ds, all these other 
 scrub critters will have to hunt new range, won't 
 they?" 
 
 " It will be a long while before the big Ds crowd out 
 so much as a crippled calf," Billy Louise answered 
 pessimistically. " I lost two nice heifers, a week or so 
 ago. They broke through the upper fence into the 
 alfalfa and started to fill up, of course. They were 
 dead when I found them." 
 
 " Next time I cash in my wolf " Ward started to 
 promise, but she cut him short. 
 
 " Do you mind if we stop at the Cove, Ward ? Mom- 
 mie wanted me to stop and get some currants. Marthy 
 says they 're ripe, and she has more than she knows 
 what to do with." 
 
 " I don't mind if you 're dead sure it 's the cur- 
 rants." 
 
 " You certainly are in a pestering mood to-day," 
 Billy Louise protested, laughing. " You can't jump 
 any game on that trail, smarty. Charlie Fox is a 
 perfectly lovely young man, but he 's got a girl in 
 Wyoming. The stage-driver says there 's never been 
 a trip in that he did n't take a letter from the Cove
 
 THIS PAL BUSINESS 141 
 
 box to Miss Gertrude M. Shannon, Elk Valley, Wyo- 
 ming. So you need n't try " 
 
 " Nice, mouthy stage-driver," Ward commented. 
 " Foxy ought to land on him a few times and see if 
 he'd take the hint." 
 
 " Well, I knew it before he told me. Marthy said 
 last winter that Charlie 's engaged. He 's trying to 
 get prosperous enough to marry her and bring her out 
 to the Cove; it will be his when Marthy dies, any- 
 way. I must say Charlie 's a hustler, all right. He 
 keeps a man all the time now, since he bought more 
 cattle. Peter Howling Dog 's working for him. Char- 
 lie 's tried to range-herd his cattle so he and Peter can 
 gather them alone; and he offered to look after mine, 
 too, so I won't have so much riding to do this hot 
 weather. He 's awfully nice, Ward, really. I don't care 
 if he is a rah-rah boy. And he is n't a bit in love with 
 me." 
 
 " Is it possible," grinned Ward, " that any human 
 man can come out West and not fall in love with the 
 Prairie Flower " 
 
 " Ward Warren, do you want me to " 
 
 " But it 's breaking all the rules of romance, Bill- 
 the-Conk ! " Ward persisted. " No story-sharp would 
 ever stand for a thing like that. Don't you know that 
 the nice young man from college always takes notice 
 in the second chapter, says ( By Jove ! What a little 
 beauty ! ' in the third, and from there on till the wind-up 
 spends most of his time running around in circles be- 
 cause the beautiful flower of the rancho gives him the 
 bad eye ? " He twisted sidewise in the saddle, took 
 a half-hitch with the reins around the saddle-horn, and
 
 142 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 proceeded to manufacture a cigarette while he went 
 on with the burlesque. 
 
 " It opened out according to Hoyle, a year ago, Wil- 
 liam. Nice young man comes west. Finds Flower of 
 the Eancho first rattle of the box, with brave young 
 buckaroo riding herd on her to beat four of a kind. 
 Looks like there 's no chance for our young hero. Brave 
 buckaroo has to hie him forth to toil, however " 
 Ward paused long enough to light up, and afterwards 
 blow out the match carefully before dropping it in 
 the trail, " at the humble sum of forty dollars per 
 month. That leaves our young hero on the job tem- 
 porarily. Stick in a few chapters of heart-burnings 
 on the part of the brave buckaroo " 
 
 " Oh, yes, no doubt ! " from Billy Louise, who was 
 trying not to giggle. 
 
 " Oh, he had 'em, far as that goes. Brave buckaroo 
 had heart-burnings enough for a Laura Jean Libbey 
 romance. All according to Hoyle. Young hero 
 Say, Bill, what 's the matter with that gazabo, anyway ? 
 Has n't he got good eyesight, or what ? Can't the 
 chump see he 's overlooking a bet when " 
 
 " Oh, you make me sick ! " Billy Louise slashed at 
 a ripening branch of service berries with her quirt and 
 scared Blue so that he lunged against the romancer. 
 " You men seem to think the girl has nothing to say 
 about it ! You think we just sit and smile and wait 
 for somebody to snap his fingers, and we jump at him ! 
 You " 
 
 " Did n't I say there would be several chapters where 
 the haughty beauty keeps our young hero running around 
 in circles, and the brave buckaroo can't figure out
 
 THIS PAL BUSINESS 143 
 
 whether he ought to buy a ring or more shells for his 
 six-gun ? " 
 
 " With the inference that she flops into his arms in 
 the last chapter and hides her maidenly blushes against 
 the pocket where he keeps his sack of Bull Durham 
 and papers " 
 
 " Oh, you Bill-the-Conk ! It would be the brave 
 buckaroo in the last chapter then, would it ? " Ward 
 leaned close, swift tenderness putting the teasing twin- 
 kle to flight from his eyes. " Our young hero smokes 
 a briar, Wilhemina-mine ! " 
 
 " We-el don't skip ! " cried Billy Louise, backing 
 away from him with more blushes than any girl could 
 hope to hide behind a coat of tan. " There 's lots of 
 chapters before the last. And you 've got to read them 
 straight through and no fair skipping ! " 
 
 " Wilhemina-mine ! " Ward repeated the newly in- 
 vented appellation, which seemed to approach satisfac- 
 torily close to the line of forbidden endearments. 
 
 " Oh, for pity's sake ! I never knew you to act so." 
 Billy Louise scowled unconvincingly at him from a safe 
 distance. 
 
 " I never was kissed before," blurted Ward fool- 
 hardily, kicking Rattler closer. 
 
 " Well, if that 's what ails you, I '11 see it does n't 
 happen again," retorted Billy Louise squelchingly, and 
 Ward's self-assurance was not great enough to lift him 
 over the barrier of that rebuff. 
 
 They came upon Charlie Fox sitting on his horse 
 beside the crude mail-box, reading avidly a letter of 
 many crisp, close-written pages. Billy Louise flashed 
 Ward an I-told-you-so glance.
 
 144 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " Why, how do you do ? " Charlie came out of cloud- 
 land with a start and turned to them cordially, while he 
 hastily folded the letter. " Going down into the Cove 1 
 That 's good. I was just up after the mail. How 
 are things up your way, Warren ? " 
 
 " Fine as silk." Ward's eyes swung briefly toward 
 what he considered the chief bit of fineness. 
 
 " That 's good. Trail 's a little narrow for three, 
 is n't it ? I '11 ride ahead and open the gate." 
 
 " They 've got a new gate down here," said Billy 
 Louise trivially. " I forgot that important bit of 
 news." 
 
 " Well, it is important to us Covers," smiled Char- 
 lie, glancing back at them. " No more bars to be left 
 down accidentally. This gate shuts itself, in case 
 someone forgets." 
 
 " And you have n't lost any more cattle, have you ? " 
 The question was a statement, after Billy Louise's 
 habit. 
 
 " Not out of the Cove, at any rate. I can't speak 
 so positively as to the outside stock of course." 
 
 " You 've missed some ? " Billy Louise never per- 
 mitted a tone to slip past her without tagging it im- 
 mediately with plain English. Charlie's tone had said 
 something to which his words made no reference. 
 
 " I don't like to say that, Miss Louise. Very likely 
 they have stray drifted, I mean back toward their 
 home ranch. Peter and I can't keep cases very closely, 
 of course." 
 
 Billy Louise shifted uneasily in the saddle and 
 pulled her eyebrows together. " If you think you 've 
 lost some cattle, for heaven's sake why don't you say
 
 THIS PAL BUSINESS 145 
 
 so!" (Ward smiled to himself at her tone.) "If 
 there 's anything I hate, it 's hinting and never com- 
 ing right out with anything. Have you lost any ? " 
 
 Charlie turned with a hand on the cantle and faced 
 her with polite reproach. " Peter says we have," he 
 admitted, with very evident reluctance. " I hardly 
 think so myself. I 'd have to count them. I know, 
 of course, how many we 've bought in the last year." 
 
 " Well, Peter knows more about it than you do," 
 Billy Louise told him bluntly. " If he has missed any, 
 they 're probably gone." 
 
 " I was in hopes you would be on my side, Miss 
 Louise." Charlie smiled deprecatingly. " I 've argued 
 with Aunt Martha and Peter until But I did n't 
 know you were a confirmed pessimist as well ! " 
 
 " You did n't neglect to put your brand on them, 
 did you ? " asked Billy Louise cruelly. 
 
 Charlie flushed under the sunburn. " Really, Miss 
 Louise, you 've no mercy on a tenderfoot, have you ? " 
 he protested. " No, they are all branded, really they 
 are. Peter and Aunt Martha saw to that," he con- 
 fessed naively. 
 
 " It seems queer," said Billy Louise, thinking aloud. 
 " Ward, there certainly is rustling going on around 
 here; and no one seems to know a thing beyond the 
 mere fact that they 're losing cattle. Seabeck has lost 
 some " 
 
 " Oh, are you sure ? " Charlie's eyes widened per- 
 ceptibly. " I had n't heard that. By Jove ! It sort 
 of makes a fellow feel shaky about going into cattle 
 very strong, does n't it ? It it knocks off the profits 
 like the very deuce, to keep losing one here and there."
 
 146 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " A fellow has to figure on a certain percentage of 
 loss," said Ward. " This the new gate ? " 
 
 " Yes." Charlie seemed relieved by the diversion. 
 " Just merely a gate, as you see ; but we Covers are 
 proud of every little improvement. Aunt Martha comes 
 up here every day, I verily believe, just to look at it 
 and admire it. The poor old soul never had any con- 
 veniences that she could n't make herself, you know, 
 and she thinks this is great stuff. I put this padlock 
 on it so she can lock herself in, nights when I 'm away. 
 She feels better with the gate locked. And then I Ve 
 got a dog that 's as good as a company of soldiers him- 
 self. If either of you happen down here when there 's 
 no one about, you will have to introduce yourselves to 
 Cerberus so named because he guards the gates 
 not the gate to Hades, please remember. Surbus, Aunt 
 Martha calls him, which is good Idahoese and seems 
 to please him as well as any other. Just speak to him 
 by name Surbus if you like and he will be all 
 right, I think." He held open the gate for them to 
 ride through and gave them a comradely look and 
 smile as they passed. 
 
 Ward took in the details of the heavy gate that 
 barred the gorge. He did not know that he betrayed 
 the fact even to the sharp eyes of Billy Louise, but 
 he could not quite bring himself to the point of meet- 
 ing Charlie Fox anywhere near half-way in his over- 
 tures for friendship. 
 
 " The weight is so heavy that the gate shuts and 
 latches itself, you see," Charlie went on, mounting on 
 the inside of the barrier and following cheerfully after 
 them. " But that does n't satisfy Aunt Martha. She
 
 THIS PAL BUSINESS 147 
 
 and Surbus make a special pilgrimage up here every 
 night." 
 
 " She must be pretty nervous." Ward could not 
 quite see why such precautions were necessary in a 
 country where no man locked his door against the 
 world. 
 
 " Well, she is, though you would n't suspect it, would 
 you? When one thinks of the life she has lived, and 
 how she pioneered in here when the country was straight 
 wilderness, and all that. Of course, I did n't know 
 her before Uncle Jason died do you think she has 
 changed since, Miss Louise ? " 
 
 " Lots," Billy Louise assured him briefly. She was 
 wondering why Ward was so stiff and unnatural with 
 Charlie Fox. 
 
 " I think myself that the shock of losing him must 
 have made the difference in her. There 's Surbus ; 
 how 's that for a voice ? And he 's just as blood- 
 thirsty as he sounds, too. I 'd hate to have him tackle 
 me in the gorge, on a dark night. He's too savage, 
 though it 's only with strangers, and we don't see 
 many of them. He almost ate Peter up, when he first 
 came. And he gave you quite a scare last spring, 
 did n't he, Miss Louise ? " 
 
 " He came within an ace of getting his head shot 
 off," Billy Louise qualified laconically. " Marthy 
 came out just in the nick of time. I absolutely refuse 
 to be chewed up by any dog; and I don't care who 
 he belongs to." 
 
 " Same here, William," approved Ward. 
 
 Charlie laughed. " I see Surbus is not going to be 
 popular with the neighbors," he said easily. " I do
 
 148 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 feel very apologetic over him. But Martliy wanted me 
 to get a dog, and so when a fellow offered me this 
 one, I took him; and as Surbus happened to take a 
 fancy to me, I did n't realize what a savage brute he 
 is, till he tackled Peter and then Miss Louise." 
 
 " Well, Miss Louise was perfectly able to defend 
 herself, so you need n't feel apologetic about that," said 
 Billy Louise a trifle sharply. She hated Surbus, and 
 she was quite open in her hatred. " If he ever comes 
 at me again, and nobody calls him off, I shall shoot 
 him." It was not a threat, as she spoke it, but a plain 
 statement of a fact. " You 'd better serve notice too, 
 Ward. He 's a nasty beast, and he 'd just as. soon kill 
 a person as not. He was going to jump for my throat. 
 He was crouched, just ready to spring and I had 
 my gun out when Marthy saw us and gave a yell 
 fit to wake the dead. Surbus did n't jump, and I did n't 
 shoot. That 's how close he came to being a dead 
 dog." 
 
 She glanced at Ward and then furtively at Charlie 
 Fox. If expression meant anything, Surbus was yet 
 in danger of paying for that assault. She caught Ward's 
 truculent eye, smiled, and shook her head at him. 
 " We 're pretty fair friends now," she said. " At 
 least, we don't try to kill each other whenever we meet. 
 ' Armed neutrality ' fits our case fine." 
 
 " I think I '11 volunteer under your flag," said Ward. 
 " I '11 leave Cerberus alone as long as he leaves me and 
 my friends alone. But I 'd advise him not to start 
 anything." 
 
 " That 's all Surbus or anyone else can ask. Come 
 on, old fellow ! Pardon me," he added to his compan-
 
 THIS PAL BUSINESS 149 
 
 ions and rode past them to meet the great, heavy- 
 jowled dog. " Be still, Surbus. We 're all friends, 
 here." 
 
 The dog lifted a non-committal glance to Ward's 
 face, growled deep in his chest, and dropped behind, 
 nosing the tracks of Blue and Rattler as if he would 
 identify them and fix them in his memory for future 
 use. 
 
 Ward had never seen the Cove in summer. He looked 
 about him curiously, struck by the atmosphere of quiet 
 plenty. Over the crude fence hung fruit-laden branches 
 from the jungle within. There was a smell of ripening 
 plums in the air, and the hum of bees. Somewhere 
 in the orchard a wild canary was singing. If he could 
 live down here, he thought, with Billy Louise and none 
 other near, he would ask no odds of the world or of 
 heaven. He glanced at Charlie Fox enviously. Well, 
 he had a fairly well-sheltered place of his own, up 
 there in the hills. He could set out fruit and plants 
 and things and have a little Eden of his own; though 
 of course it could n't be like this place, sheltered as 
 it was from harsh winds by that high rock wall, and 
 soaking in sunshine all day long. Still, he could 
 fix his place up a lot, with a little time and thought 
 and a good deal of hard work. 
 
 He looked at Billy Louise and saw how the beauty 
 of the place appealed to her, and right there he de- 
 cided to study horticulture so that he could raise plums 
 and apples and hollyhocks and things.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 WAS IT THE DOG? 
 
 * ' r I lHAT old dame down there thinks a lot of you, 
 JL William." Ward had closed the gate and was 
 preparing to remount. 
 
 " Well, is there any reason why she should n't ? " 
 The tone of Billj Louise was not far from petulant. 
 
 " Not a reason. What 'a molla, Bill ? " 
 
 " Nothing that I know of." Billy Louise lifted 
 her eyes to the rock cabbages on the cliff above them 
 and tried to speak convincingly. 
 
 " Yes, there is. Something 's gone wrong. Can't 
 you tell a pal, Wilhemina ? " 
 
 There was no resisting that tone. Billj Louise looked 
 at him, and though she still frowned, her eyes light- 
 ened a little. 
 
 " No, I can't tell a pal or anybody else. I don't 
 know. Something 's different, down there. I don't 
 know what it is, and I don't like it." She thought a 
 minute and then smiled with that little twist of the 
 lips Ward liked so much. " Maybe it 's the dog," she 
 guessed. " I never see his ugly mug that I don't feel 
 like taking a shot at him. I like dogs, too, as a gen- 
 eral thing. He 's got a wicked heart ! I know he has. 
 He 'd like nothing better than to take a chunk out 
 of me." 
 
 " I '11 go back and kill him ; shall I, Bill Loo ? "
 
 WAS IT THE DOG? 151 
 
 " No. Some day maybe I '11 get a chance at him my- 
 self. I Ve warned Marthy, so " 
 
 " Are you dead sure it 's the dog ? " Ward looked 
 at her with that keenness of glance which was hard 
 to meet if one wanted to keep a secret from him. 
 
 " Why? " Billj Louise's tone did not invite further 
 questioning. 
 
 " Oh, nothing ! I just wondered." 
 
 " You don't like Charlie ; anybody can see that." 
 
 " Yes ? Foxy 's a real nice young man." 
 
 " But you don't like him. You never do like any- 
 body " 
 
 " No ? " Ward's smile dared her to persist in the 
 accusation. " In that case I 've no business to be fool- 
 ing around here when there 's work to be done. That 
 Cove down there has roused a heap of brand-new wants 
 in me, Wilhemma. Gotta have an orchard up on Mill 
 Creek, lady-fair. Gotta have a flower garden and things 
 that climb all over the house and smell nice. Gotta 
 have four times as much meadow as I 've got now, and 
 a house full of books and pictures and things, and more 
 cattle and horses, and a yellow canary in a yellow cage 
 singing his head off out on the porch. Gotta work 
 like one son-of-a-gun, Wilhemina, to get all those things 
 and get 'em quick, so I can stand some show of get- 
 ting what I really do want." 
 
 " Well, am I keeping you ? " Billy Louise was cer- 
 tainly in a villainous mood. 
 
 " You are," Ward affirmed quite calmly. " Only for 
 you, I 'd be hustling like the mischief right this min- 
 ute along the get-rich trail. Say, Bill, I don't believe 
 it 's the dog! " He looked at her with the smile hiding
 
 152 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 just behind his lips and his eyes. And behind the 
 smile, if one's insight were keen enough to see it, 
 was a troubled anxiety. He shifted the pail of cur- 
 rants to the other arm and spoke again : 
 
 " What is it, Wilhemina ? Something 's bothering 
 you. Can't you tell a fellow what it is ? " 
 
 " To, I can't." Billy Louise spoke crossly. " I 've 
 got a headache. I 've been riding ever since this morn- 
 ing, and I should think that 's reason enough. I wish 
 to goodness you 'd let me alone. Go on back to work, 
 if you 're so crazy about working ; I 'm sure I don't want 
 to hinder you in any of your get-rich-quick schemes ! " 
 She shut her teeth together with a click, jerked Blue 
 angrily into the trail when he had merely stepped 
 out of it to avoid a rock, and managed to make him 
 as conscious of her mood as was Ward. 
 
 Ward eyed her unobtrusively with his face set 
 straight ahead. He glanced down at the pail of cur- 
 rants, which was heavy, and at the trail, which was 
 long and lonely. He twisted his lips in brief sar- 
 casm for he had a temper of his own and rode 
 on with his neck set very stiff and his eyes a trifle 
 harder than they had ever been before when Billy Louise 
 rode alongside. He did not turn off at the ford and 
 Billy Louise betrayed by a quick glance at him that 
 she had half expected him to desert her there but 
 crossed it beside her and rode on up the hill. 
 
 He had made up his mind that he would not speak 
 to her again until she wiped out, by apology or a 
 change of manner, that last offensive remark of hers. 
 He hoped she realized that he was only going with 
 her to carry the currants, and he hoped she realized
 
 WAS IT THE DOG? 153 
 
 also that, if she had been any other person who had 
 spoken to him like that, he would have dumped the cur- 
 rants on the ground and ridden off and left her to her 
 own devices. 
 
 He did not once speak to Billy Louise on the way 
 to the Wolverine; but his silence changed gradually 
 from stubbornness to pure abstraction, as they rode 
 leisurely along the dusty trail with the sunset glow- 
 ing before them. He almost forgot the actual pres- 
 ence of Billy Louise, and he did actually forget her 
 mood. He was planning just how and where he should 
 plant his orchard, and he was mentally building an 
 addition to the cabin and screening a porch wide enough 
 to hang a hammock inside, and he was seeing Billy 
 Louise luxuriously swinging in that hammock while 
 he sat close, and smoked and teased and gloried in 
 his possession of her companionship. 
 
 His thoughts shuttled to his little mine, though he 
 seldom dignified it by that title. He speculated upon 
 the amount of gold he might yet hope to wash out 
 of that gravel streak, though he had held himself sternly 
 back from such mental indulgence all the spring. He 
 felt that he was going to need every grain of gold he 
 could glean. He wanted his wife he glowed at the 
 mere thinking of that name to have the nicest little 
 home in the country. He decided that it would be 
 pleasanter than the Cove, all things considered ; he had 
 a fine view of the rugged hills from his cabin, and he 
 imagined the Cove must be pretty hot during the days, 
 with that high rock wall shutting off the wind and 
 reflecting the sun. His own place was sheltered, but
 
 154 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 still it was not set down in the bottom of a well. She 
 had liked it. She had said . . . 
 
 They rode over the crest of the bluff and down the 
 steep trail into the Wolverine. However cloudy the 
 atmosphere between the two, the ride had seemed short 
 so short that Ward felt the jar of surprise when 
 he looked down and saw the cabin below them. He 
 glanced at Billy Louise, guessed from her somber face 
 that the villainous mood still held her, and sighed a 
 little. He was not deeply concerned by her mood. He 
 understood her too well to descend into any slough 
 of despondence because she was, cross. Then he re- 
 membered the reason she had given the reason he had 
 not believed at the time. They were down by the gate, 
 then. 
 
 " Head still ache, William ? " he asked, in the tone 
 which he could make a fair substitute for a caress. 
 
 " Yes," said Billy Louise, and did not look at him. 
 
 Ward was inwardly skeptical, but he did not tell 
 her so. He swung off his horse, set down the pail 
 of currants, and took Blue by the bridle. 
 
 " You go on in. I '11 unsaddle," he commanded her 
 quietly. And Billy Louise, after a perceptible hesita- 
 tion, obeyed him without looking at him or speaking 
 a word. 
 
 If Ward resented her manner, which was unrea- 
 sonably uppish, he could not have chosen a more ef- 
 fective revenge. He talked with Mrs. MacDonald all 
 through supper and paid no attention to Billy Louise. 
 After supper he spied a fairly fresh Boise paper, and 
 underneath that lay the Butte Miner. That discovery 
 settled the evening, so far as he was concerned. If
 
 WAS IT THE DOG? 155 
 
 he and Billy Louise had been on the best of terms, it 
 is doubtful if she could have dragged his attention 
 from those papers. 
 
 Several times Billy Louise looked at him as though 
 she meditated going over and snatching them away 
 from him, but she resisted the temptation and con- 
 tinued to behave as a nice young woman should behave 
 toward a guest. She left him sitting inside by the 
 lamp, which her mother had lighted for his especial 
 convenience, and went out and sat on the doorstep and 
 stared at the dusky line of hills and at the Big Dip- 
 per. She was trying to think out the tangle of tiny, 
 threadlike mysteries that had enmeshed her thoughts 
 and tightened her nerves until she could not speak a 
 decent word to anyone. 
 
 She felt that the lives of those around her were weav- 
 ing puzzle-patterns, and that she must guess the puz- 
 zles. And she felt as though part of the patterns had 
 been left out, so that there were ragged points thrust- 
 ing themselves upon her notice points that did not 
 point to anything. 
 
 She sat with her elbows on her knees and her chin 
 in her cupped palms, and scowled at the Big Dipper 
 as if it held the answer away up there beyond her 
 reach. Where did Ward get the money to do all the 
 things he had done, this spring and sumrrter? If he 
 expected her to believe that wolf story ! 
 
 What became of the cattle that had disappeared, by 
 twos and threes and sometimes more, in the last few 
 months? Was there a gang of thieves operating in 
 the country, and where did they stay ? 
 
 Why had Ward hinted that she did not like Charlie
 
 156 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Fox, and why did n't he himself like Charlie ? Why 
 had she felt that weight of depression creep over her 
 when they were leaving the Cove ? Why ? Why ? 
 
 Billy Louise tried to bring her cold, common sense 
 to the front. She had found it a most effective remedy 
 for most moods. Now it assured her impatiently that 
 every question save one had heen born in her own 
 super-sensitive self. That one definite question was 
 the first one she had tried to answer. It kept asking 
 itself, over and over, until in desperation Billy Louise 
 went to bed and tried to forget it in sleep. 
 
 Somewhere about midnight she had heard the 
 clock strike eleven a long while ago she scared her 
 mother by sitting up suddenly in bed and exclaiming 
 relievedly : " Oh, I know ; it 's some new poison ! He 
 poisons them ! " 
 
 " Wake up ! For the land's sake, what are you 
 dreaming about ? " Her mother shook her agitatedly 
 by the arm. " Billy Louise ! W T ake up ! " 
 
 " All right, rnommie." Billy Louise lay down and 
 snuggled the light blanket over her shoulders. She 
 had been awake and thinking, thinking till she thought 
 she never could stop, but she did not tell mommie that. 
 She went to sleep and dreamed about poisoned wolves 
 till it is a wonder she did not have a real nightmare. 
 The question was answered, and for the time being 
 the answer satisfied her. 
 
 Ward was surely an unusual type of young man. 
 He did not seem to remember, the next morning, that 
 there had been any outbreak of bottled emotions on 
 his part the day before, or any ill-temper on the part 
 of Billy Louise, or anything at all out of the ordinary.
 
 WAS' IT THE DOG? 157 
 
 Billy Louise had prepared herself to apologize 
 in some roundabout manner which would effect a recon- 
 ciliation without hurting her pride too much and she 
 was rather chagrined to discover that Ward seemed 
 neither to expect or to want any apology. 
 
 " Sorry I gotta go, William," he volunteered whim- 
 sically soon after breakfast. " But I gotta dig. Say, 
 Wilhemina, if I stay away long enough, will you come 
 after me again ? " 
 
 " A wise man," said Billy Louise evasively, " may 
 do a foolish thing once, but only a fool does it twice." 
 
 " I don't believe it 's the dog." Ward shook his head 
 at her in mock meditation. " It would n't last over- 
 night, if it was just the dog." He looked at her with 
 the hidden smile. " Are you sure " 
 
 " I 'm sure you know how to pester a person ! " The 
 lips of Billy Louise twisted humorously. " Lots of 
 things bother me, and you ought to help me out in- 
 stead of making it worse." She walked beside him 
 down to the corral where Rattler was waiting, sad- 
 dled and bridled for the homeward journey. 
 
 " Well, tell a fellow what they are. Of course, 
 if it 's the dog " 
 
 " Ward Warren, you 're awful ! It is n't the dog. 
 Well, it is, but there are heaps of other things I want 
 to know, that I don't know. And you don't seem to 
 care about any single one of them." 
 
 Ward leaned up against the fence and tilted his hat 
 to shade his eyes from the sun. " Name a few of them, 
 William Louisa. ~Not even a brave young buckaroo 
 can be expected to mind-read a girl. If he could " 
 
 " Well, is it poison you use ? " Billy Louise thought
 
 158 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 it best to change Ward's trend of thought immediately. 
 " Last night it just came to me all at once that you 
 must have found some poison besides strychnine ' : 
 
 " Eh ? Oh, I see ! " He managed a rather provoking 
 slur on the last word. " No, William/* His eyes twin- 
 kled at her. " It is n't poison. What 's the other thing 
 you want to know ? " 
 
 Billy Louise frowned, hesitated, and, accepting the 
 rebuff, went on to the next question: 
 
 " What went with Seabeck's cattle, and Marthy and 
 Charlie's, and all the others that have disappeared? 
 You don't seem to care at all that there seems to be 
 rustling going on around here." 
 
 Ward gave her a quick look. His tone changed a 
 bit: 
 
 " I don't know that there is any. I never yet lived 
 in a cow-country where there was n't more or less talk 
 of rustling. You don't want to take gossip like that 
 too seriously. Anything more ? " 
 
 Billy Louise glanced at him surreptitiously and 
 looked away again. Then she tried to go on as casually 
 as she had begun. 
 
 " Well, there 's something about the Cove. I don't 
 believe Marthy 's happy. I could n't quite get hold of 
 the thing yesterday that gave me the blues but it 's 
 Marthy. She 's grieving, or something. She 's dif- 
 ferent. She 's changed more since last winter than 
 she 's changed since I can remember. You noticed 
 something at least you spoke about her coming up 
 the gorge " 
 
 " I said she thinks a lot of you, Wilhemina." Ward's 
 tone and manner were natural again, " I noticed her
 
 WAS IT THE DOG? 159 
 
 looking at you when you did n't know it. She thinks 
 a heap of you, I should say, and she 's worrying about 
 something. Maybe she 'd rather have you in the Cove 
 than Miss Gertrude M. Shannon. Don't you reckon 
 an old lady that has had her own way all her life kind 
 of dreads the advent of a brand-new bride in her 
 domain ? " 
 
 " Why, of course ! Poor old thing ! I never thought 
 of that. And here you hit the nail on the head just 
 with a chance thought. That shows what it means to 
 be a brave young buckaroo, with heaps and piles "of 
 brains ! " She laughed at him, but behind her ban- 
 tering was a new respect for Ward's astuteness. " Go 
 on. Tell me why you don't like Charlie Fox, or why 
 you refuse to admit how nice and kind he is and " 
 
 " But I don't refuse " 
 
 " Well, I put it stupidly, of course, but you know 
 what I mean. Tell me your candid opinion of him." 
 
 " I have n't any." Ward smoked imperturbably for 
 a minute, so that Billy Louise began to think he would 
 not tell her what she wanted to know. Ward could 
 be absolutely, maddeningly dumb on some subjects, as 
 she had reason to know. But he continued, quite 
 frankly for him: 
 
 " Has it ever struck you, William Jane, that after 
 all Foxy is not sacrificing such a hell of a lot ? " He 
 bit his lip because of the word he had let slip, but since 
 Billy Louise took no notice^ he went on : " He 's got a 
 pretty good thing, down there, if you stop to think. The 
 old lady won't live always, and she 's managed to build 
 up a pretty fine ranch. It stands Foxy in hand to 
 be good to her, don't you think ? He '11 have a pretty
 
 ISO RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 fine stake out of it. Far as I know, he 's all right. I 
 merely fail to see where he 's got a right to wear any 
 halo on his manly brow. He 's got a good hand in the 
 game, and he 's playing it a heap better than lots 
 of men would. Dot 's all, Wilhemina." He turned 
 to her as if he would dismiss the subject. " Don't run 
 off with the notion that 1 'm out after the heart's blood 
 of our young hee-ro. I like him all right far as he 
 goes. I like him a heap better," he owned frankly, 
 " since I glommed him devouring that letter from Miss 
 Gertrude M. Shannon. 
 
 " Don't you want to ride a ways with me ? " His 
 eyes made love while he waited for her to speak. 
 "Don't?" (When she shook her head.) "You're 
 a pretty mean young person sometimes, are n't you ? 
 Wha 's molla ? Did I give you more mood than I wiped 
 off the slate ? " 
 
 " I don't know. You say a sentence or two, and it 's 
 like slashing a knife into a curtain. You show all 
 kinds of things that were nicely covered before." Billy 
 Louise spoke gloomily. " I '11 see Marthy as a poor 
 old lady waiting to be saddled with a boss, from now 
 on. And Charlie Fox just simply working for his own 
 interests and " 
 
 "Now, William!" 
 
 " Oh, I can see it myself, now." 
 
 " Well, what if he is ? We 're all of us working for 
 our own interests, are n't we ? " He saw the gloom 
 still deep in her eyes and flung out both hands impa- 
 tiently. " All right, all right ! I '11 plead the cause 
 of our young hee-ro, then. What would old Marthy 
 do without him ? He 's made her more comfortable
 
 WAS IT THE DOG? 161 
 
 than she ever was in her life, probably. I noticed 
 a big difference in the cabin, yesterday. And he 's do- 
 ing the work, and taking the responsibility, and making 
 the ranch more valuable even put a wire on the gate, 
 that rings a bell at the house, so she '11 know when com- 
 pany 's coming, and can get the kitchen swept. He 's 
 done a lot " 
 
 " For himself ! " In her disillusionment Billy Louise 
 went too far the other way. " And the cabin is more 
 comfortable for that girl when he brings her there to 
 run over Marthy ! " 
 
 " Well, what of it ? You don't expect him to put 
 in his time for nothing, do you ? In the last analysis 
 we 're all self-centered brutes, Wilhemina. We 're think- 
 ing once for the other fellow and twice for ourselves, 
 always. I 'm working and scheming day and night 
 to get a stake so I can have what means happiness 
 to me. Marthy 's letting Foxy have full swing in the 
 Cove, because that gives her an easier life than she 's 
 ever had. If she did n't want him there, she 'd mighty 
 quick shoo him up the gorge, or I don't know the old 
 lady. We 're all selfish." 
 
 " I think it 's a horrid world ! " rebelled the youth- 
 ful ideals of Billy Louise. " I wish you would n't say 
 you 're just thinking of yourself " 
 
 " I 'm human," he pointed out. " I want my hap- 
 piness. So do you, for that matter. We all want to 
 get all we can out of life." 
 
 " And at the other fellow's expense ! " 
 
 " Oh, not necessarily. Some of us want the other 
 fellow to be just as happy as we are." His look pointed 
 the meaning for him.
 
 162 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " I don't care ; I think it 's mean of Charlie Fox to 
 bring " 
 
 " May he not. The chances are the young lady will 
 take to housework like a bear-cuh to a syrup keg, and 
 old Marthy will potter around with her flowers and be 
 perfectly happy with the two of them. Cheer up, Bill 
 Loo ! Lemme have a smile, anyway, before I go. And 
 I wish," he added quizzically, " you 'd spare me some 
 of that sympathy you 've got going to waste. I 'm a 
 poor lonesome devil working away to get a stake, and 
 you know why. I don't have nobody to give me a kind 
 word, and I don't have no fun nor nothing, nohow. 
 Come on and ride a mile or two ! " 
 
 " I have to help mommie," said Billy Louise, which 
 was not true. 
 
 " Well, if you won't, darn it, don't ! " Ward reached 
 down, caught her hand, and squeezed it, taking a chance 
 on being seen. " Gotta go, Wilhemina-mine. Adios. I 
 won't stay away so long next time." He turned away 
 to his horse, stuck his foot in the stirrup, and went 
 up into the saddle without any apparent effort. Then 
 he swung Rattler close to where she stood beside the 
 gate. 
 
 " Sure you want to be just pals, Wilhemina-mine ? " 
 he asked, bending close to her. 
 
 " Of course I 'm sure," said Billy Louise quickly 
 a. shade too quickly. 
 
 Ward looked at her intently and shrugged his shoul- 
 ders. " All right," he said, in the tone which made 
 plain his opinion of her decision. " You 're the 
 doctor." 
 
 Billy Louise watched him up the hill and out of sight
 
 WAS IT THE DOG? 163 
 
 over the top. When he was gone, she caught Blue and 
 saddled him; then, with her gun buckled around her 
 hips and her rope coiled beside the saddle-fork, she rode 
 dismally up the canyon.
 
 CHAPTER XH 
 
 THE LITTLE DEVILS OF DOUBT 
 
 WOLVERINE canyon, with the sun shining down 
 aslant into its depths, was a picturesque gash 
 in the hills, wild enough in all conscience, but to the 
 normal person not in the least degree gloomy. The jut- 
 ting crags were sunlit and warm. The cherry thickets 
 whispered in a light breeze and sheltered birds that 
 sang in perfect content. The service berries were rip- 
 ening and hung heavy-laden branches down over the 
 trail to tempt a rider into loitering. The creek leaped 
 over rocks, slid thin blades of swift current between 
 the higher bowlders, and crept stealthily down into shady 
 pools, where speckled trout lay motionless except for the 
 gently-moving tail and fins that held them stationary in 
 some deeper shadow. Not a gloomy place, surely, when 
 the peace of a sunny morning laid its spell upon the 
 land. 
 
 Billy Louise, however, did not respond to the can- 
 yon's enticements. She brooded over her own discour- 
 agements and the tantalizing little puzzles which some- 
 how would not lend themselves to any convincing solu- 
 tion. She was in that condition of nervous depression 
 where she saw her finest cows dead of bloat in the alfalfa 
 meadows and how would she pay that machinery note, 
 then? She saw John Pringle calling unexpectedly and 
 insistently for his " time " and where would she find
 
 LITTLE DEVILS OF DOUBT 165 
 
 another man whom she could trust out of her sight? 
 John Pringle was slow, and he was stupid and growled 
 at poor Phoabe till Billy Louise wanted to shake him, 
 but he was " steady," and that one virtue covers many 
 a man's faults and keeps him drawing wages regularly. 
 
 Her mother had been more and more inclined to 
 worry as the hot weather came on; lately her anxiety 
 over small things had rather gotten upon the nerves of 
 Billy Louise. She felt ill-used and down-hearted and 
 as if nothing mattered much, anyway. She passed her 
 cave with a mere glance and scowl for the memories 
 of golden days in her lonely childhood that clung around 
 it. She passed Minervy's cave, and her lips quivered 
 with self-pity because that childhood was gone, and 
 she must not waste time or energy upon romantic " pre- 
 tends," but must measure haystacks and allow so much 
 for " settling," and then add and multiply and divide 
 all over two sheets of tablet paper to find out how much 
 hay she had to winter the stock on. She must hold 
 herself rigidly to facts, and tend fences and watch irri- 
 gating ditches, and pay interest on notes three or four 
 years old, and ride the hills and work her way through 
 rocky canyons, keeping watch over the cattle that meant 
 so much. She had meant to talk over things with Ward 
 and ask his advice about certain details that required 
 experienced judgment. But Ward had precipitated her 
 thoughts into strange channels and so had unconsciously 
 thwarted her counsel-seeking intentions. She had 
 wanted to talk things over with Marthy, and Marthy had 
 also unconsciously prevented her doing so and had filled 
 Billy Louise with uneasiness and doubt which in no 
 way concerned herself.
 
 166 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 These doubt* persisted, arid so did the tantalizing 
 little puzzles. They weaned Billy Louise's thoughts 
 from her own ranch worries and nagged at her with 
 the persistence of a swarm of buffalo gnats. 
 
 " Well, if he does n't use poison, for goodness' sake, 
 what does he use ? " she asked indignantly aloud, after 
 a period of deep thought. " I don't see why he wants 
 to be so terribly secretive. He might be human enough 
 to tell a person what he means. I 'm sure I 'd tell him, 
 all right. I don't believe it 's wolves at all. I don't 
 see how and still I don't believe Ward would 
 really lie to me." 
 
 She was in this particularly dissatisfied mood when 
 she rode out of the canyon at its upper end, where 
 the hills folded softly down into grassy valleys where 
 her cattle loved best to graze. Since the grass had 
 started in the spring, she had kept her little herd up 
 here among the lower hills; and by riding along the 
 higher ridges every day or so and turning back a wan- 
 dering animal now and then, she had held them in a 
 comparatively small area, where they would be easily 
 gathered in the fall. A few head of Seabeck's stock 
 had wandered in amongst hers, and some of Marthy's. 
 And there was a big, roan steer that bore the brand 
 of Johnson, orer on Snake River. Billy Louise knew 
 them all, a a housewife knows her flock of chickens, 
 and if she missed seeing certain leaders in the scat- 
 tered groups, she rode until she found them. Two old 
 cows and one big, red steer that seemed always to have 
 a following wore bells that tinkled pleasant little sounds 
 in the alder thickets along the creek, as she passed by. 
 
 She rode up the long ridge which gave her a wide
 
 LITTLE DEVILS OF DOUBT 167 
 
 view of the surrounding hills and stopped Blue, while 
 ghe stared moodily at the familiar, shadow-splotched 
 expanse of high-piled ridges, with deep green valleys 
 and deeper-hued canyons between. She loved them, 
 every one; but to-day they failed to steep her senses in 
 that deep content with life which only the great out- 
 doors can give to one who has learned how satisfying 
 is the draught and how soothing. 
 
 Far over to the eastward a black dot moved up a 
 green slope and slid out of sight beyond. That might 
 be Ward, taking a short-cut across the hill to his claim 
 beyond the pine-dotted ridge that looked purple in the 
 distance. Billy Louise sighed with a vague disquiet 
 and turned to look away to the north, where the jum- 
 ble of high hills grew more rugged, with the valleys 
 narrower and deeper. 
 
 Here came two other dots, larger and more clearly 
 defined as horsemen. From mere objects that stood 
 higher than any animal and moved with a purposeful 
 directness, they presently became men who rode with 
 the easy swing of habit which has become a second 
 nature. They must have seen her sitting still upon 
 her horse in the midst of that high, sunny plateau, for 
 they turned and rode up the slope toward her. 
 
 Billy Louise waited, too depressed to wonder greatly 
 who they were. Seabeck riders, probably; and so they 
 proved. At least one of them was a Seabeck man 
 Floyd Carson, who had talked with her at her own gate 
 and had told her of the suspected cattlerstealing. The 
 other man was a stranger whom Floyd introduced as 
 Mr. Birken. 
 
 They had been " prowling around," according to
 
 168 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Floyd, trying to see what they could see. Floyd was 
 one of these round-faced, round-eyed, young fellows 
 who does not believe much in secrecy and therefore talks 
 freely whenever and wherever he dares. He said that 
 Seaheck had turned them loose to keep cases and see 
 if they couldn't pick up the trail of these rustlers who 
 were trying to get rich off a running iron and a long 
 rope. (If you are of the West, you know what that 
 means; and if you are not, you ought to guess that 
 it means stealing cattle and let it go at that.) It was 
 not until he had talked for ten minutes or so that 
 Billy Louise became more than mildly interested in 
 the conversation. 
 
 " Say, Miss MacDonald," Floyd asked, by way of 
 beginning a new paragraph, " how about that fellow 
 over on Mill Creek? He worked for you folks a year 
 or so ago, did n't he ? What does he do ? " 
 
 " He has a ranch," said Billy Louise with careful 
 calm. " He 's been working on it this summer, I be- 
 lieve." 
 
 " Uh-huh we were over there this morning. Them 
 Y6 cattle up above his place are his, I reckon ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Billy Louise. " He 's been putting his 
 wages into cattle for a year or so. He worked for 
 Junkins last winter. Why ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing, I guess ! Only he 's the only stranger 
 in the country, and his prosperity ain't accounted 
 for " 
 
 "Oh, but it is!" laughed Billy Louise. "I only 
 wish I had half as clear a ticket. When he is n't work- 
 ing out, he 's wolfing ; and every dollar he gets hold of he 
 puts into that ranch. We 've known him a long time.
 
 LITTLE DEVILS OF DOUBT 169 
 
 He does n't blow his money, you see, like most fel- 
 lows do." 
 
 Floyd found occasion to have a slight argument with 
 his horse, just then. He happened to be one of the 
 " most " fellows, and the occasion of his last " blow- 
 out " was fresh in his mind. 
 
 " Well, of course, if you know he 's all straight, 
 that settles it. But it sure seems queer " 
 
 " That fellow is straight as a string. Don't you sup- 
 pose it 's some gang over on the river, Floyd ? I 'd lopk 
 around over there, I believe, and try to get a line on 
 the unaccountables. There 's a lot of new settlers come 
 in, just in the last year or two, and there might be 
 some tough ones scattered through the bunch. Better 
 see if there has been any cattle shipped or driven through 
 that way, don't you think ? " 
 
 " We can try," Floyd assented without eagerness. 
 " But as near as we can figure, it 's too much of a 
 drib-drab proposition for that. A cow and calf here 
 and there, and so on. We got wind of it first when 
 we went out to bring in a gentle cow that the deacon 
 wanted on the ranch. We knew where she was, only 
 she was n't there when we went after her. We hunted 
 the hills for a week and couldn't find a sign of her 
 or her calf. And she had stuck down in the creek bot- 
 tom all the spring, so it looked kinda funny." He 
 twisted in the saddle and looked back at the pine- 
 clotted ridge. 
 
 " There 's a Y6 calf up there that 's a dead ringer for 
 the one we 've been hunting," he observed. " But it 's 
 running with a cow that carries Junkins' old brand, 
 so " He looked apologetically into the calm eyes of
 
 170 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Billy Louise. " Of course, I don't mean to say there 's 
 anything wrong up there," he hastily assured her. " But 
 that 's the reason I thought I 'd ask you about that 
 fellow." 
 
 " Oh, it 's perfectly right to make sure of every- 
 body," smiled Billy Louise. " I 'd do the same thing 
 myself. But you '11 find everything 's all straight up 
 there. We know all about him, and how and where he 
 got his few head of stock, and everything. But of 
 course you could ask Junkins, if you have any 
 doubt " 
 
 " Oh, we '11 take your word for it. I just wanted 
 to know ; he 's a stranger to our outfit. I 've seen him 
 a few times ; what 's his name ? Us boys call him 
 Noisy. It 's like pulling a wisdom tooth to get any 
 kinda talk out of him." 
 
 " He is awful quiet," assented Billy Louise carelessly. 
 " But he 's real steady to work." 
 
 " Them quiet fellows generally are," put in Mr. Bir- 
 ken. " You run stock in here too, do you, Miss Mac- 
 Donald?" 
 
 " The big Ds," answered Billy Louise and smiled 
 faintly. " I 've been range-herding them back here in 
 these foothills this summer. Do you want to' look 
 through the bunch ? " 
 
 Mr. Birkin blushed. "Oh, no, not at all! I was 
 wondering if you had lost any." 
 
 " Nobody would rustle cattle from a lady, I hope ? 
 At any rate, I have n't missed any yet. The folks down 
 in the Cove have, though." 
 
 " Yes, I heard they had. That breed rode over 
 to see if he could get a line on them. It 's hard luck ;
 
 LITTLE DEVILS OF DOUBT 171 
 
 that Charlie Fox seems a fine, hard-working boy, don't 
 you think ? " 
 
 " Yes-s," said Billy Louise shyly, " he seems real 
 nice." She looked away and bit her lip self-consciously 
 as she spoke. 
 
 The two men swallowed the bait like a hungry fish. 
 They glanced at each other and winked knowingly. 
 Billy Louise saw them from the tail of her downcast eye, 
 and permitted herself a little sigh of relief. They 
 would be the more ready now to accept at its face value 
 her statement concerning Ward, unless they credited - 
 her with the feat of being in love with the two men 
 at the same time. 
 
 " Well, I 'm sorry Charlie Fox has been tapped off, 
 too. He 's a mighty fine chap," declared Floyd with 
 transparent heartiness, his round eyes dwelling curi- 
 ously upon the face of Billy Louise. 
 
 " Yes, I must be going," said that young woman 
 self-consciously. " I 've quite a circle to ride yet. I 
 hope you locate the rustlers, and if there 's anything 
 I can do if I see or hear anything that seems to be 
 a clew I '11 let you know right away. I 've been 
 keeping my eyes open for some trace of them, and 
 so has Char Mr. Fox." Then she blushed and told 
 them good-by very hastily and loped off up the ridge. 
 
 " Bark up that tree for awhile, you two ! " she said, 
 with a twist of her lips, when she was well away from 
 them. " You you darned idiots ! To go prowling 
 around Ward's place, just as if Ward '11 take a shot 
 at them if he catches them nosing through his stock ! " 
 She scowled at a big D cow that thrust her head out of 
 an alder thicket and sent Blue in after her. Frowning,
 
 172 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 she watched the animal go lumbering down the hill 
 toward the Wolverine. " Just because he 's a stranger 
 and does n't mix with people, and minds his own busi- 
 ness and is trying to get a start, they 're suspicious 
 as if a man has no right to Well, I think I man- 
 aged to head them off, anyway." 
 
 Her satisfaction lasted while she rode to the next 
 ridge. Then the little devils of doubt came a-swarming 
 and a-whispering. She had said she knew all about 
 Ward; well, she did, to a greater extent than others 
 knew. But she wondered if she did not know too 
 much, or if she knew enough. There were some 
 things 
 
 She turned, upon the crest of the ridge, and looked 
 away toward the pine-dotted height locally known as 
 the Big Hill, beyond which Ward's claim lay snug- 
 gled out of sight in its little valley. " I 've a good mind 
 to ride over there right now, and make him tell me,' 7 
 she said to herself. She stopped Blue and sat there 
 undecided, while the wind lifted a lock of hair and 
 flipped it across her cheek. " If he cares like he says 
 he cares he '11 tell me," she 'murmured. " I don't 
 believe it 's wolves. And of course it is n't what 
 those fellows seemed to think. But - where did he 
 get the money for all that ? " She sighed distressfully. 
 " I hate to ask him ; he 'd think I did n't trust him, 
 and I do. I do trust him ! " There was the little head- 
 devil of doubt, and she fought him fiercely. "I do ! 
 I do ! " She thrust the declaration of faith like a sword 
 through the doubt-devil that clung and whispered. 
 " Dear Ward ! I do trust you ! " She blinked back tears 
 and bit her lips to stop their quivering. " But, darn
 
 LITTLE DEVILS OF DOUBT 173 
 
 it, I don't see why you did n't tell me ! " There it was : 
 a perfectly human, woman-resentment toward a nagging 
 mystery. 
 
 She headed Blue down the slope and as straight 
 for the Big Hill as she could go. She would go and 
 make Ward tell her what he had been doing; not that 
 she had any doubt herself that it was perfectly all -right, 
 whatever it was, but she felt that she had a right to 
 demand facts, so that she could feel more sure of her 
 ground. And there would be more questions; Billy 
 Louise was bright enough to see thus far into the 
 future. Unless the rustlers were caught, there would 
 be questions asked about this silent stranger who kept 
 his trail apart from his fellows and whose prosperity 
 was out of proportion with his opportunities. Why, 
 even Billy Louise herself had been curious over that 
 prosperity, without being in the slightest degree suspi- 
 cious. Other people had not her faith in him; and 
 they were not blind. They would wonder 
 
 There was no trail that way, and the ridges were 
 steep and the canyons circuitous. But Blue was a good 
 horse, with plenty of stamina and much experience. 
 He carried his lady safely, and he carried her willingly. 
 Even her impatience could find no fault with the man- 
 ner in which he climbed steep pitches, slid down slopes 
 as steep, jumped narrow washouts, and picked his way 
 through thickets of quaking aspens or over wide 
 stretches of shale rock and lava beds. He was wet to 
 his ears when finally he shuffled into WarcL's trail up 
 the creek bottom; but he breathed evenly, and he car- 
 ried his head high and perked his ears knowingly for- 
 ward when the corral and havstack came into view
 
 174 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 around a sharp bend. He splashed both front feet into 
 the creek just before the cabin and stopped to drink 
 while Billy Louise stared at the silent place. 
 
 By the tracks along the creek trail she knew that 
 Ward had come home, and she urged Blue across the 
 ford and up the bank to the cabin. She slid off and 
 went in boldly to hide her inward embarrassment and 
 she found nothing but emptiness there. 
 
 Billy Louise did not take long to investigate. The 
 coffee-pot was still warm on the stove when she laid 
 her palm against it, and she immediately poured herself 
 a cup of coffee. A plate and a cup on the table indi- 
 cated that Ward had eaten a hurried meal and had not 
 taken time to clear away the litter. Billy Louise ate 
 what was left, and mechanically she washed the dishes 
 and made everything neat before she went down to look 
 for Rattler. She had thought that Ward was out some- 
 where about the place and would return very soon, 
 probably. Blue she had left standing in plain sight 
 before the cabin, so that Ward would see him and know 
 she was there a fact which she regretted. 
 
 While she was washing dishes and sweeping, she had 
 been trying to think of some excuse for her presence 
 there. It was going to be awkward, her coming there 
 on his heels, one might say. She remembered for the 
 first time her statement that she had to help mommie and 
 so could not take the time to ride even a mile with him ! 
 Being a young person whose chief amusement had al- 
 ways been her " pretends," she began unconsciously 
 building an imaginary conversation between them, like 
 this: 
 
 Ward would come out of the stable or somewhere
 
 LITTLE DEVILS OF DOUBT 175 
 
 see Blue and hurry up to the house. Billy Louise 
 would be standing with her back to him, putting the 
 dishes into neat little piles in the cupboard perhaps; 
 anyway, doing something like that. Ward would stop 
 in the doorway and say well, there were several pos- 
 sible greetings, but Billy Louise chose his " 'Lo, Bill ! " 
 as being the most probable. And then he would" come 
 up and take her in his arms. (Oh, she was human, 
 and she was a woman, and she was twenty. And Ward 
 had established a precedent, remember, and Billy Louise 
 had not objected to any great extent.) And and 
 (I 'm going to tell on Billy Louise. She wiped a knife 
 for at least fire minutes without knowing what she was 
 doing, and she stared at a sunny spot on the floor where 
 a sunbeam came in through a crack in the wall, and she 
 smiled absently, and her cheeks were quite a bit redder 
 than usual.) 
 
 " I did n't expect to see you here, Wilhemina-mine." 
 " Oh, I was just riding around, and I came over to 
 see how you dig dollars out of wolf-dens. You said 
 you 'd show me." 
 
 The trouble with the conversation began right there. 
 Ward would be sure to remind her of the condition he 
 had made, to tell her how he dug dollars out of wolf- 
 dens when she was through with wanting to be just 
 friends. That put it up to Billy Louise to say she 
 would be engaged and marry him ; and Billy Louise 
 was not ready to say that or be that Her woman- 
 soul hung back from that decisive point She would 
 not shut the door upon her freedom and her girlish 
 dreams and her ideals and all those evanescent bub- 
 bles which we try to carry with us into maturity. Billy
 
 176 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Louise did not put it that way, of course. She only 
 reiterated again and again : " I like you, but I don't 
 want to marry anybody. I don't want to be engaged." 
 
 Well, that would probably settle Ward's telling her 
 about digging dollars out of wolf-dens or anything else. 
 He had a wide streak of stubbornness; no one could 
 see the set of his chin when he was in a certain mood 
 and doubt that. Billy Louise began to wish she had 
 not come. She began to feel quite certain that Ward 
 would be surprised and disgusted when he found her 
 there, and would look at her with that faint curl of 
 the lip and that fainter lift of the nostril above it, 
 which made her go hot all over with the scorn in them. 
 She had seen him look that way once or twice, and 
 in spite of herself she began to picture his face with 
 that expression. 
 
 Billy Louise was on the point of riding away a good 
 deal more hastily than she had come, in the hope that 
 Ward would not discover her there. Then her own 
 stubbornness came uppermost, and she told herself that 
 she had a perfect right to ride wherever she pleased, 
 and that if Ward did n't like it, he could do the other 
 thing. 
 
 She went to the door and stood looking out for a 
 minute, wondering where he was. She turned back 
 and stared around the room, which somehow held the 
 imprint of his personality in spite of its rough 
 simplicity. 
 
 There was a little window behind the bunk, and be- 
 side that a shelf filled with books and smoking mate- 
 rial and matches. She knew by the very arrangement 
 of that shelf and window that Ward liked to lie there
 
 LITTLE DEVILS OF DOUBT 177 
 
 on the bunk and read while the light lasted. Well, he 
 was not there now, at any rate. She went over and 
 looked at the titles of the books, though she had ex- 
 amined them with interest only yesterday. There was 
 Burns ; and she knew why it was he could repeat Tam 
 O'Shanter so readily with never a moment's hesitation. 
 There were two volumes of Scott Lady of the- Lake 
 and other poems, much thumbed and with a cigarette 
 burn on the front cover, and Eenilworth. There were 
 several books of Kipling's, mostly verses, and beside it 
 Morgan's Ancient Society, with the corners broken, and 
 a fine-print volume of Shakespeare's plays. Then there 
 was a pile of magazines and beyond them a stack of 
 books whose subjects varied from Balzac to strange, 
 scientific-sounding names. At the other end of the 
 shelf, within easy reach from one lying upon the bunk, 
 was a cigar-box full of smoking tobacco, a half-dozen 
 books of cigarette papers, and several blocks of the small, 
 evil-smelling matches which men of the outdoors carry 
 for their compact form and slow, steady blaze. 
 
 At the head of the bed hung a flour-sack half full 
 of some hard, lumpy stuff which Billy Louise had not 
 noticed before. She felt the bag tentatively, could not 
 guess its contents, and finally took it down and untied 
 it. Within were irregular scraps and strips of stuff 
 hard as bone a puzzle still to one unfamiliar with 
 the frontier. Billy Louise pulled out a little piece, nib- 
 bled a corner, and pronounced, " M-mm ! Jerky ! I 'm 
 going to swipe some of that," which she proceeded to 
 do, to the extent of filling her pocket. For to those 
 who have learned to like it, jerked venison is quite as 
 desirable as milk chocolate or any other nibbly tid-bit.
 
 178 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 The opposite wall had sacks of flour stacked against 
 it, and boxes of staple canned goods, such as corn and 
 tomatoes and milk and peaches. A box of canned 
 peaches stood at the head of the bed, and upon that 
 a case of tomatoes. Ward used them for a table and 
 set the lantern there when he wanted to read in bed. 
 " He 's got a pretty good supply of grub," was the ver- 
 dict of Billy Louise, sizing up the assortment while 
 she nibbled at the piece of jerky. " I wonder where 
 he is, anyway ? " And a moment later : " He ought n't 
 to hang his best clothes up like that ; they '11 be all wrin- 
 kled when he wants to put them on." 
 
 She went over and disposed of the best clothes to 
 her liking, and shook out the dust. She had to own 
 to herself that for a bachelor Ward was very orderly, 
 though he did let his trousers hang down over the flour- 
 sacks in a way to whiten their hems. She hung them 
 in- a different place. 
 
 But where was Ward? Billy Louise bethought her 
 that Blue deserved something to eat after that hard ride, 
 and led him down to the stable. There was no sign 
 of Battler, and Billy Louise wondered anew at Ward's 
 absence. It did not seem consistent with his haste to 
 leave the Wolverine and his frequent assertion that 
 he must get to work. From the stable door she could look 
 over practically the whole creek-bottom within his fence, 
 and she could see the broad sweep of the hills on either 
 side. On her way back to the cabin, she tried to track 
 Rattler, but there were several stock-trails leading in 
 different directions, and the soil was too dry to leave 
 any distinguishing marks. 
 
 She waited for an hour or two, sitting in the door-
 
 LITTLE DEVILS OF DOUBT 179 
 
 way, nibbling jerky and trying to read a mazagine. 
 Then she found a stub of pencil, tore out an advertising 
 page which had a wide margin, wrote : " I don't think 
 you 're a bit nice. Why don't you stay home when a 
 fellow comes to see you ? " This she folded neatly 
 and put in the cigar-box of tobacco over Ward's pillow. 
 It never once occurred to her that Ward, when he found 
 the note, would believe she had placed it there the day 
 before, and would never guess by its text that she had 
 made a second trip to his claim. 
 
 She resaddled Blue and rode away more depressed 
 than ever, because her depression was now mixed with 
 a disappointment keener than she would have cared 
 to acknowledge, even to herself.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE CORKAL, IN THE CANYON 
 
 WHEKE the creek trail crossed the Big Hill and 
 then swung to the left that it might follow the 
 easy slopes of Cedar Creek, Blue turned off to the 
 right of his own accord, as if he took it for granted 
 that his lady would return the way she had come. His 
 lady had not thought anything about it, but after a 
 brief hesitation she decided that Blue should have his 
 way; after all, it would simplify her explanations of 
 the long ride if she came home by way of the canyon. 
 She could say that she had ridden farther out into 
 the hills than usual, which was true enough. 
 
 Billy Louise did not own such a breeder of blues as 
 a lazy liver, her nerves were in fine working order, and 
 her digestion was perfect; and it is a well-known fact 
 that a trouble must be born of reality rather than imagi- 
 nation, if it would ride far behind the cantle. Billy 
 Louise was late, and already the shadows lay like long 
 draperies upon the hills she faced: long, purple cloaks 
 ruffed with golden yellow and patterned with indigo 
 patches, which were the pines, and splotches of dark 
 green, which were the thickets of alder and quaking 
 aspens. She could n't feel depressed for very long, and 
 before she had climbed over the first rugged ridge that 
 reached out like a crooked finger into the narrow val- 
 ley, she was humming under her breath and riding
 
 THE CORRAL IN THE CANYON 181 
 
 with the reins dropped loose upon Blue's neck, so that 
 he went where the way pleased him best. Before she 
 was down that ridge and beginning to climb the next, 
 she was singing softly a song her mother had taught 
 her long ago, when she was seven or so : 
 
 "The years creep slowly by, Lorena, 
 The snow is on the grass again; 
 The sun 'a low down the sky, Lorena " 
 
 Blue gathered himself together and jumped a wash- 
 out three feet across and goodness knows how deep and 
 jarred that melancholy melody quite out of Billy 
 Louise's mind. When she had settled herself again to 
 the slow climb, she broke out with what she called 
 Ward's Come-all-ye, and with a twinkle of eye and both 
 dimples showing deep, went on with a very slight in- 
 terruption in her singing. 
 
 " ' Oh, a ten-dollar hoss and a forty-dollar saddle ' 
 that 's you Blue. You don't amount to nothing nohow, 
 doing jackrabbit stunts like that when I 'm not look- 
 ing! 'Coma ti yi youpy, youpy-a.' ' She watched 
 a cloud shadow sweep like a great bird over a sunny 
 slope and murmured while she watched : " Cloud-boats 
 sailing sunny seas is that original, or have I cribbed 
 it from some honest-to-goodness poet? Blue, if fate 
 had n't made a cowpuncher of me, I 'd be chewing up 
 lead-pencils trying to find a rhyme for alfalfa, maybe. 
 And where would you be, you old skate ? If the Louise 
 of me had been developed at the expense of the Billy 
 of me, and I 'd taken to making battenburg doilies with 
 butterflies in the corners, and embroidering corset covers 
 till I put my eyes out, and writing poetry on Sundays 
 when mommie would n't let me sew. I wonder if
 
 182 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Ward Maybe he 'd have liked me better if I 'd lived 
 up to the Louise and cut out the Billy part. I 'd be 
 horns, right now, asking mommie whether I should use 
 soda or baking-powder to make my muffins with Oh, 
 gracious ! " She leaned over and caught a handful of 
 Blue's slatey mane and tousled it, till he laid his ears 
 flat on his head and flipped his nose around to show 
 her that his teeth were bared to the gums. Billy Louise 
 laughed and gave another yank. 
 
 " You wish I were an embroidering young lady, do 
 you ? Aw, where would you be, if you did n't have me 
 to devil the life out of you ? Well, why don't you take 
 a chunk out of me, then? Don't be an old bluffer, 
 Blue. If you want to eat me, why, go to it ; only you 
 don't. You 're just a-bluffing. You like to be tousled 
 and you know it ; else why do you tag me all over the 
 place when I don't want you ? Huh ? That 's to pay 
 you back for jumping that washout when I was n't 
 looking." A twitch of the mane here brought Blue's 
 head around again with all his teeth showing. " And 
 this is for jarring that lovely, weepy song out of me. 
 You know you hate it; you always do lay back your 
 ears when I sing that, but oh, all right when I 
 sing, then. But you 've got to stand for it. I Ve been 
 an indigo bag all day long, and I 'm going to sing if 
 I want to. Fate made me a lady cowpunch instead of 
 a poet-ess, and you can't stop me from singing when I 
 feel it in my system." 
 
 She began again with the " Ten-dollar hoss and forty- 
 dollar saddle," and sang as much of the old trail song 
 as she had ever heard and could remember, substituting 
 milder expletires now and then and laughing at herself
 
 THE CORRAL IN THE CANYON 183 
 
 for doing it, because a self-confessed " lady cowpunch " 
 is after all hedged about by certain limitations in the 
 matter of both speech and conduct She did not sing 
 it all, but she sang enough to last over a mile of rough 
 going, and she did not have to repeat many verses to 
 do it. 
 
 Blue, because she still left the reins loose, chose his 
 own trail, which was easier than that which they had 
 taken in the forenoon, but more roundabout. Billy 
 Louise, observing how he avoided rocky patches and 
 went considerably out of his way to keep his feet on 
 soft soil, stopped in the middle of a " Coma ti yi " to 
 ask him solicitously if he were getting tender-footed; 
 and promised him a few days off, in the pasture. There- 
 after she encouraged the roundabout progress, even 
 though she knew it would keep them in the hills until 
 dusk; for she was foolishly careful of Blue, however 
 much she might tease him and call him names. 
 
 Quite suddenly, just at sundown, her cheerful jour- 
 neying was interrupted in a most unexpected manner. 
 She was dreaming along a flat-bottomed canyon, looking 
 for an easy way across, when Blue threw up his head, 
 listened with his ears thrust forward, and sniffed with 
 widened nostrils. From his manner, almost anything 
 might lie ahead of them. And because certain of the 
 possibilities would call for quick action if any of them 
 became a certainty, Billy Louise twisted her gun-belt 
 around so that her six-shooter swung within easy reach 
 of her hand. With her fingers she made sure that 
 the gun was loose in its holster and kicked Blue mildly 
 as a hint to go on and see what it was all about. 
 
 Blue went forward, stepping easily on the soft side-
 
 184 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 hill. In rough country, whatever you want to see is 
 nearly always around a sharp bend; you read it so in 
 the stories and books of travels, and when you ride out 
 in the hills, you find it so in reality. Billy Louise rode 
 for three or four minutes before she received any inkling 
 of what lay ahead, though Blue's behavior during that 
 interval had served to reassure her somewhat. He was 
 interested still in what lay just out of sight beyond a 
 shoulder of the hill, but he did not appear to be in 
 the least alarmed. Therefore, Billy Louise knew it 
 couldn't be a bear, at any rate. 
 
 They came to the point of the hill's shoulder, and 
 Billy Louise tightened the reins instinctively while she 
 stared at what lay revealed beneath. The head of the 
 gulch was blocked with a corral small, high, hidden 
 from view on all sides save where she stood, by the 
 jagged walls of rock and heavy aspen thickets beyond. 
 
 The corral was but the setting for what Billy Louise 
 stared at so unbelievingly. A horseman had ridden out 
 of the corral just as she came into sight, had turned 
 a sharp corner, and had disappeared by riding up the 
 same slope she occupied, but farther along, and in a 
 shallow depression which hid him completely after that 
 one brief glimpse. 
 
 Of course, the gulch was dusky with deep shadows, 
 and she had had only a glimpse. But the horse was 
 a dark bay, and the rider was slim and tall and wore 
 a gray hat. The heart of Billy Louise paused a mo- 
 ment from its steady beating and then sank heavily 
 under a great weight. She was range-born and range- 
 bred. She had sat wide-eyed on her daddy's knees and 
 heard him tell of losses in cattle and horses and of cor-
 
 THE CORRAL IN THE CANYON 185 
 
 rals found hidden away in strange places and of un- 
 known riders who disappeared mysteriously into the 
 hills. She had heard of these things ; they were a part 
 of the stage setting for wild dramas of the West. 
 
 With a white line showing around her close-pressed 
 lips and a horror in her wide-eyed glance, she rode 
 quietly along the side of the bluff toward where she 
 had seen the horseman disappear. He was riding a 
 dark bay, and he wore a gray hat and dark coat, and 
 he was slim and tall. Billy Louise made a sound that 
 was close to a groan and set her teeth hard together 
 afterwards. 
 
 She reached the hillside just above the corral. There 
 were cattle down there, moving uneasily about in the 
 shadows. Of the horseman there was of course no sign ; 
 just the corral, and a few restless cattle shut inside, 
 and on the hilltops a soft, rose-violet glow, and in 
 the sky beyond a blend of purple and deep crimson to 
 show where the sun had been. Close beside her as 
 she stood looking down a little, gray bird twittered 
 wistfully. 
 
 Billy Louise took a deep breath and rode on, angling 
 slightly up the bluff, so that she could cross at the head 
 of the gulch. It was very quiet, very peaceful, and 
 wildly beautiful, this jumble of hills and deep-gashed 
 canyons. But Billy Louise felt as though something 
 precious had died. She should have gone down and 
 investigated and turned those cattle loose; that is, if 
 she dared. Well, she dared ; it was not fear that held 
 her to the upper slopes. She did not want to know 
 what brand they bore or whether an iron had beared 
 fresh marks.
 
 186 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " Oh, God ! " she said once aloud ; and there was a 
 prayer and a protest, a curse and a question all in those 
 two words. 
 
 So trouble trouble that sickened her ver y soul and 
 choked her into dumbness and squeezed her heart so 
 that the ache of it was agony came and rode with her 
 through the brooding dusk of the canyons and over the 
 brighter hilltops. 
 
 Billy Louise did not remember anything much about 
 that ride, except that she was glad the way was long. 
 Blue carried her steadily on and on and needed no 
 guiding, and though Wolverine canyon was black dark 
 in most places, she liked it so. 
 
 John Pringle was standing by the gate waiting for 
 her, which was unusual, if Billy Louise had been nor- 
 mal enough to notice it. He came forward and took 
 Blue by the bridle when she dismounted, which was 
 still more unusual, for Billy Louise always cared for 
 her own horse both from habit and preference. 
 
 " Yor mommie, she 's sick," he announced stolidly. 
 " She 's worry you maybe hurt yoreself. Yo better go, 
 maybe." 
 
 Billy Louise did not answer, but ran up the path to 
 the cabin. " Oh, has everything got to happen all at 
 once ? " she cried aloud, protesting against the implaca- 
 bleness of misfortune. 
 
 " Yor mommie 's sick," Phoebe announced in a whis- 
 per. " She 's crazy 'cause you been so long. She 's aw- 
 ful bad, I guess." 
 
 Billy Louise said nothing, but went in where her 
 mother lay moaning, her face white and turned to the 
 ceiling. Billy Louise herself had pulled up her re-
 
 THE CORRAL IN THE CANYON 187 
 
 serves of strength and cheerfulness, and the fingers she 
 laid on her mother's forehead were cool and steady. 
 
 " Poor old mommie ! Is it that nasty lumbago 
 again ? " she asked caressingly and did not permit the 
 tiniest shade of anxiety to spoil the reassurance of her 
 presence. " I went farther than usual, and Blue 's 
 pretty tender, so I eased him along, and I 'm fearfully 
 late. I suppose you 've been having all kinds of dis- 
 asters happening to me." She was passing her fingers 
 soothingly over her mother's forehead while she ex* 
 plained, and she saw that her mother did not moan so 
 much as when she came into the room. 
 
 " Of course I worried. I wish you would n't take 
 them long rides. Oh, I guess it 's lumbago mostly 
 but seems like it ain't, either. The pain seems to be 
 mostly in my side." She stirred restlessly and moaned 
 again. 
 
 " What 's Phoebe been doing for it ? You don't seem 
 to have any fever, mommie and that 's a good thing. 
 I '11 go fix you one of those dandy spice poultices. Had 
 any supper, mommie ? " 
 
 " Oh, I could n't eat. Phoebe made a hop poultice, 
 but it 's awful soppy." 
 
 " Well, never mind. Your dear daughter is on the 
 job now. She '11 have you all comfy in just about two 
 minutes. Head ache, mum ? All right. I '11 just shake 
 up your pilly and bring you such a dandy spice poultice 
 I expect you '11 want to eat it ! " Billy Louise's voice 
 was soft and had a broody sweetness when she wished 
 it so, that soothed more than medicine. Her mother's 
 eyes closed wearily while the girl talked; the muscles 
 of her face relaxed a little from their look of pain.
 
 188 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Billy Louise bent and laid her lips lightly on her moth- 
 er's cheek. "Poor old mommie! I 'd have come home 
 a-running if I 'd known she was sick and had to have 
 nasty, soppy stuff." 
 
 In the kitchen a very different Billy Louise meas- 
 ured spices, and asked a question now and then in a 
 whisper, and breathed with a repressed unevenness which 
 betrayed the strain she was under. 
 
 " Tell John to saddle up and go for the doctor, 
 Phoebe, and don't let mommie know, whatever you do. 
 This is n't her lumbago at all. I don't know what it 
 is. I wonder if a hot turpentine cloth would n't be 
 better than this ? I 've a good mind to try it ; her eyes 
 are glassy with fever, and her skin is cold as a fish. 
 You tell John to hurry up. He can ride Boxer. Tell 
 him I want him to get a doctor here by to-morrow noon 
 if he has to kill his horse doing it." 
 
 " Is she that bad ? " Phrebe's black eyes glistened 
 with consternation. " She 's groaned all day and shook 
 her head like this all time." 
 
 " Oh, stop looking like that ! ~N"o wonder she 's sick, 
 if you've stood over her with that kind of a face on 
 you. You look as if someone were dead in the house ! " 
 
 " I 'm skeered of sick folks. Honest, it gives me 
 shivers." 
 
 " Well, keep out then. Make some fresh tea, Phcebe 
 or no, make some good, strong coffee. I '11 need it, 
 if I 'm up all night. Make it strong, Phrebe. Hurry, 
 and " She stopped short and ran into the bed- 
 room, called there by her mother's cry of pain. 
 
 That night took its toll of Billy Louise and left a 
 seared place in her memory. It was a night of snap-
 
 THE CORRAL IN THE CANYON 189 
 
 ping fire in the cook-stove that hot water might be al- 
 ways ready ; of tireless struggle with the pain that came 
 and tortured, retired sullenly from Billy Louise's stub- 
 born fighting with poultices and turpentine cloths and 
 every homely remedy she had ever heard of, and came 
 again just when she thought she had won the fight. 
 
 There was no time to give thought to the trouble 
 that had ridden home with her, though its presence was 
 like a black shadow behind her while she worked and 
 went to and fro between bedroom and kitchen, and 
 fought that tearing pain. 
 
 She met the dawn hollow-eyed and so tired she could 
 not worry very much about anything. Her mother 
 slept uneasily to prove that the battle had not gone alto- 
 gether against the girl who had fought the night 
 through. She had her reward in full measure when the 
 doctor came, in the heat of noon, and after terrible 
 minutes of suspense for Billy Louise while he counted 
 pulse and took temperature and studied symptoms, told 
 her that she had done well, and that she and her homely 
 poultices had held back tragedy from that house. 
 
 Billy Louise lay down upon the couch out on the 
 back porch and slept heavily for three hours, while 
 Phrebe and the doctor watched over her mother. 
 
 She woke with a start. She had been dreaming, 
 and the dream had taken from her cheeks what little 
 color her night vigil had left. She had dreamed that 5 
 Ward was in danger, that men were hunting him for 
 what he had done at that corral. The corral seemed 
 the center of a fight between Ward and the men. She 
 dreamed that he came to her, and that she must hide 
 him away and save him. But though she took him to
 
 190 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Minervy's cave, which was secret enough for her pur- 
 pose, yet she could not feel that he was safe, even there. 
 There was something some menace. 
 
 Billy Louise went softly into the house, tiptoed to 
 the door of her mother's room, and saw that she lay 
 quiet, with her eyes closed. Beside the window the 
 doctor sat with his spectacles far down toward the 
 end of his nose, reading a pale-green pamphlet that he 
 must have brought in his pocket. Phoehe was down by 
 the creek, washing clothes in the shade of a willow- 
 clump. 
 
 She went into her own room, still walking on her 
 toes. In her trunk was a blue plush box of the kind 
 that is given to one at Christmas. It was faded, and 
 the clasp was showing brassy at the edges. Sitting upon 
 her bed with the box in her lap, Billy Louise pawed 
 hastily in the jumble of keepsakes it held: an eagle's 
 claw which she meant sometime to have mounted for 
 a brooch; three or four arrowheads of the shiny, black 
 stuff which the Indians were said to have brought from 
 Yellowstone Park; a knot of green ribbon which she 
 had worn to a St. Patrick's Day dance in Boise; rat- 
 tlesnake rattles of all sizes ; several folded clippings 
 verses that had caught her fancy and had been put 
 away and forgotten ; an amber bead she had found once. 
 She turned the box upside down in her lap and shook 
 it. It must be there the thing she sought ; the thing 
 that had troubled her most in her dream; the thing 
 that was a menace while it existed. It was at the very 
 bottom of the box, caught in a corner. She took it 
 out with fingers that trembled, crumpled it into a little 
 ball so that she could not read what it said, straight-
 
 THE CORRAL IN THE CANYON 191 
 
 ened it immediately, and read it reluctantly from the 
 beginning to the end where the last word was clipped 
 short with hasty scissors. A paragraph cut from a news- 
 paper, it was; yellow and frayed from contact with 
 other objects, telling of things 
 
 Billy Louise bit her lips until they hurt, but she 
 could not keep back the tears that came hot and stinging 
 while she read. She slid the little heap of odds and 
 ends to the middle of the bed, crushed the clipping into, 
 her palm, and went out stealthily into the immaculate 
 kitchen. As if she were being spied upon, she went 
 cautiously to the stove, lifted a lid, and dropped the 
 clipping in where the wood blazed the brightest. She 
 watched it flare and become nothing not even a pinch 
 of ashes; the clipping was not very large. When it 
 was gone, she put the lid back and went tiptoeing to the 
 door. Then she ran. 
 
 Phoebe was down by the creek, so Billy Louise went 
 to the stable, through that and on beyond, still run- 
 ning. Farther down was a grassy nook on, beyond 
 the road. She went there and hid behind the willows, 
 where she could cry and no one be the wiser. But 
 she could not cry the ache out of her heart, nor the 
 rebellion against the hurt that life had given her. If 
 she could only have burned memory when she burned 
 that clipping! She could still believe and be happy, 
 if only she could forget the things it said. 
 
 Phosbe called her, after a long while had passed. 
 Billy Louise bathed her face in the 'cold water of the 
 Wolverine, used her handkerchief for a towel, and went 
 back to take up the duties life had laid upon her. The 
 doctor's team was hitched to the light buggy he drove,
 
 192 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 and the doctor was standing in the doorway with his 
 square medicine-case in his hand, waiting to give her a 
 few final directions before he left. 
 
 He was like so many doctors ; he seemed to be afraid 
 to tell the whole truth about his patient. He stuck to 
 evasive optimism and then neutralized the reassurances 
 he uttered by emphasizing the necessity of being noti- 
 fied if Mrs. MacDonald showed any symptoms of an- 
 other attack. 
 
 " Don't wait," he told Billy Louise gravely. " Send 
 for me at once if she complains of that pain again, 
 or appears " 
 
 " But what is it ? " Billy Louise would not be put 
 off by any vagueness. 
 
 The doctor told Billy Louise in terms that carried 
 no meaning whatever to her mind. She gathered merely 
 that it was rather serious if it persisted whatever 
 it was and that she must not leave her mommie for 
 many hours at a time, because she might have another 
 attack at any time. The doctor told her, however, 
 in plain English that mommie was well over this attack 
 whatever it was and that she need only be kept 
 quiet for a few days and given the medicine what- 
 ever that was that he had left. 
 
 " It does seem as if everything is all muffled up in 
 mystery ! " she complained, when he drove away. " I 
 can fight anything I can see, but when I Ve got to go 
 blindfolded " She brushed her fingers across her 
 eyes and glanced hurriedly into the little looking-glass 
 that hung beside the door. " Yes, mommie, just a min- 
 ute," she called cheerfully. 
 
 She ran into her own room, grabbed a can of talcum,
 
 THE CORRAL IN THE CANYON 193 
 
 and did not wait to see whether she applied it evenly 
 to her telltale eyelids, but dabbed at them on the way 
 to her mother's room. 
 
 " Doctor says you 're all right, mommie ; only you 
 must n't go digging post-holes or shoveling hay for 
 awhile." 
 
 " !No, I guess not I " Her mother responded uncon- 
 sciously to the stimulation of Billy Louise's tone. " I 
 could n't dig holes with a teaspoon, I 'm that weak and 
 useless. Did he say what it was, Billy Louise ? " The 
 sick are always so curious about their illnesses I 
 
 " Oh, your lumbago got to scrapping with your liver. 
 I forget the name he gave it, but it 's nothing to worry 
 about." Billy Louise had imagination, remember. 
 
 " I guess he 'd think it was something to worry 
 about, if he had it," her mother retorted fretfully, but 
 reassured nevertheless by the casual manner of Billy 
 Louise. " I believe I could eat a little mite of toast 
 and drink some tea," she added tentatively. 
 
 " And an egg poached soft if you want it,* mom. 
 Phoebe just brought in the eggs." Billy Louise went 
 out humming unconcernedly under her breath as if she 
 had not a care beyond the proper toasting of the bread 
 and brewing of the tea. 
 
 One need not go to war or voyage to the far corners 
 of the earth to find the stuff heroes are made of.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 EACH IN HIS OWN TRAIL 
 
 SINCE nothing in this world is absolutely immutable 
 the human emotions least of all, perhaps 
 Billy Louise did not hold changeless her broken faith 
 in Ward. She saw it broken into fragments before the 
 evidence of her own eyes, and the fragments ground 
 to dust beneath the weight of what she knew of his past 
 things he had told her himself. So she thought there 
 was no more faith in him, and her heart went empty and 
 aching through the next few days. 
 
 But, since Billy Louise was human, and a woman 
 not altogether because she was twenty ! she stopped, 
 after awhile, gathered carefully the dust of her dead 
 faith, and, like God, she began to create. First she 
 fashioned doubts of her doubt. How did she know 
 she had not made a mistake, there at that corral ? Other 
 men wore gray hats and rode dark bay horses; other 
 men were slim and tall and she had only had a 
 glimpse after all, and the light was deceptive down 
 there in the shadows. When that first doubt was 
 molded, and she had breathed into it the breath of life 
 so that it stood sturdily before her, she took heart and 
 created reasons, a whole company of them, to tell her 
 why she ought to give Ward the benefit of the doubt. 
 She remembered what Charlie Fox had said about cir-
 
 EACH IN HIS OWN TRAIL 195 
 
 cumstantial evidence. She would not make the mis- 
 take he had made. 
 
 So she spent other days and long, wakeful nights. 
 And since it seemed impossible to bring her faith to 
 life again just as it had been, with the glamor pf ro- 
 mance and the sweetness of pity and the strength of her 
 own innocence to make it a beautiful faith indeed, she 
 used all her innocence and all her pity and a little of 
 romance and created something even sweeter than her 
 untried faith had been. She had a new element to 
 strengthen it. She knew that she loved Ward ; she had 
 learned that from the hurt it had given her to lose 
 her faith in him. 
 
 That was the record of the inner Billy Louise which 
 no one ever saw. The Billy Louise which her little 
 world knew went her way unchanged, except in small 
 details that escaped the notice of those nearest her. A 
 look in her eyes, for one thing ; a hurt, questioning look 
 that was sometimes rebellious as well ; a droop of her 
 mouth, also, when she was off her guard; a sad, tired 
 little droop that told of the weight of responsibility and 
 worry she was carrying. 
 
 Ward observed both, the minute he saw her on the 
 trail. He had come across country on the chance that 
 she might be riding out that way, and he had come 
 upon her unawares while she and Blue were staring 
 out over the desert from the height they had attained 
 in the hills. 
 
 " 'Lo, Bill ! " he said, when he was quite close, and 
 held himself ready to meet whatever mood she might 
 present. 
 
 She turned her head quickly and looked at him, and
 
 196 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 the hurt look was still in her eyes, the droop still showed 
 at her lips. And Ward knew they had been there 
 before she saw him. 
 
 " Wha 's molla, Bill ? " he asked, in the tone that was 
 calculated to invite an unburdening of her troubles. 
 
 " Oh, nothing in particular. Mommie 's been awfully 
 sick, and I 'm always worried when I 'm away from 
 the ranch, for fear she '11 have another spell while I 'in 
 gone. The doctor said she might have, any time. Were 
 you headed for our place? If you are, come on; I 
 was just starting back. I don't dare be away any 
 longer." If that were a real unburdening, Ward was 
 an unreasonable young man. Billy Louise looked at 
 him again, and this time her eyes were clear and 
 friendly. 
 
 Ward was not satisfied, for all the surface seemed 
 smooth enough. He was too sensitive not to feel a 
 difference, and he was too innocent of any wrongdoing 
 or thinking to guess what was the matter. Guilt is a 
 good barometer of personal atmosphere, and Ward had 
 none of it. The worst of him she had known for more 
 than a year; he had told her himself, and she had 
 healed the hurt almost of the past by her firm 
 belief in him and by her friendship. Could you expect 
 Ward to guess that she had seen her faith in him die 
 a violent death no longer than two weeks ago? Such 
 a possibility never occurred to him. 
 
 For all that, he felt there was a difference somewhere. 
 It chilled his eagerness a little, and it blanketed his 
 enthusiasm so that he did not tell her the things he 
 had meant to tell. He had ridden over with another 
 nugget in his pocket a nugget the size of an almond.
 
 EACH IN HIS OWN TRAIL 197 
 
 He had come to give it to Billy Louise and to tell her 
 how and where he had found it. 
 
 It is too bad that he changed his mind again and kept 
 that lump of gold in his pocket. It would have ex- 
 plained so much, if he had given it to Billy Louise to 
 put in her blue plush treasure box. It would even have 
 brought to life that first faith in him. She might have 
 told him one never can foresee the lengths to which 
 a woman's confessional mood will carry her about that 
 corral hidden in the canyon, and of her sickening cer- 
 tainty that she had seen him ride stealthily away from 
 it. If she had, he would have convinced her that she 
 was mistaken, and that he had that afternoon been 
 washing gold a good ten miles from there, until it was 
 too dark for him to work. 
 
 He took the nugget back home, and he took it sooner 
 than he had intended to return. He also carried back 
 a fit of the blues which seemed to have attacked him 
 without cause or pretext, since he had not quarreled 
 with Billy Louise, and had been warmly welcomed by 
 " mommie." Poor mommie was looking white and frail, 
 and her temples were too distinctly veined with purple. 
 Ward told himself that it was no wonder his Wilhemina 
 acted strained and unnatural. He meant to work harder 
 than ever and get his stake so that he could go and make 
 her give him the right to take care of her. 
 
 He began to figure the cost of commuting his home- 
 stead right away, so that he would not have to " hold 
 it down " for another three years. Maybe she would 
 not want to bring her mother so far off the main road. 
 In that case, he would go down and put that Wolverine 
 place in shape. He had no squeamishness about living
 
 198 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 on her ranch instead of his own, if she wanted it that 
 way. He meant to be better " hooked up " financially 
 than she was and have more cattle, when he put the 
 gold ring on her finger. Then he would do whatever 
 she wanted him to do, and he would not have to crucify 
 his pride doing it. 
 
 You see, they could not have quarreled, since Ward 
 carried castles as well as the blues. In fact, their part- 
 ing had given Ward an uneven pulse for a mile, for 
 Billy Louise had gone with him as usual as far as the 
 corral, when he started home. And when Ward had 
 picked up his reins and turned to put his toe in the 
 stirrup, Billy Louise had come close to his very 
 shoulder. Ward had turned his face toward her, and 
 Billy Louise Billy Louise had impulsively taken his 
 head between her two hands, had looked deep into his 
 eyes, and then had kissed him wistfully on the lips. 
 Then she had turned and fled up the path, waving him 
 away up the trail. And though Ward never guessed 
 that to her that kiss was a penitent vow of loyalty to 
 their friendship and a slap in the face of the doubt- 
 devils that still pursued her weaker moments, it set 
 him planning harder than ever for that stake he must 
 win before he dared urge her further toward matri- 
 mony. 
 
 It 's a wonder that the kiss did not wipe out com- 
 pletely the somber mdbd that held him. That it did 
 not, but served merely to tangle his thoughts in a most 
 hopeless manner, perhaps proves how greatly the inner 
 life of Billy Louise had changed her in those two weeks. 
 
 She changed still more in the next two months, how- 
 ever. There was the strain of her mother's precarious
 
 EACH IN HIS OWN TRAIL 199 
 
 health which kept Billy Louise always on the alert and 
 always trying to hide her fears. She must be quick 
 to detect the^ first symptoms of a return attack of the 
 illness, and she must not let her mother suspect that 
 there was danger of a return. That much the doctor 
 had made plain to her. 
 
 Besides that, there was an undercurrent of gossip 
 and rumors of cattle stealing, whenever a man stopped 
 at the ranch. It worried Billy Louise, in spite of her- 
 rebuilt belief in Ward. Doubt would seize her some- 
 times in spite of herself, and she did not see Ward 
 often enough to let his personality fight those doubts. 
 She saw him just once in the next two months, and then 
 only for an hour or so. 
 
 A man rode up one night and stayed with them until 
 morning, after the open-handed custom of the range- 
 land. Billy Louise did not talk with him very much. 
 He had shifty eyes and a coarse, loose-lipped mouth and 
 a thick neck, and, girl-like, she took a violent dislike 
 to him. But John Pringle told her afterwards that 
 he was Buck Olney, the new stock inspector, and that 
 he was prowling around to see if he could find out any- 
 thing. 
 
 Billy Louise worried a good deal, after that. Once 
 she rode out early with the intention of going to Ward's 
 claim to warn him. But three miles of saner thought 
 changed her purpose: she dared not leave her mother 
 all day, for one thing; and for another, she could 
 scarcely warn Ward without letting him see that she 
 felt he needed warning; and even Billy Louise shrank 
 from what might follow. 
 
 The stock inspector stopped again, on his way back
 
 200 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 to the railroad. Billy Louise was so anxious that she 
 smothered her dislike and treated him nicely, which 
 thawed the man to an alarming amiability. She ques- 
 tioned him artfully trust Billy Louise for that ! - 
 and she decided that the stock inspector was either a 
 very poor detective or a very good actor. He did not, 
 for instance, mention any corral hidden in a blind can- 
 yon away back in the hills, and Billy Louise did not 
 mention it, either. He had not found any worked 
 brands, he said. And he did not appear to know any- 
 thing further about Ward than the mere fact of his 
 existence. 
 
 " There 's a fellow holding down a claim, away over 
 on Mill Creek," he had remarked. " I '11 look him up 
 when I come back, though Seabeck says he 's all right." 
 
 " Ward is all right," asserted Billy Louise, rather 
 unwisely. 
 
 " Have n't a doubt of it. I thought maybe he might 
 have seen something that might give us a clew." Per- 
 haps the stock inspector was wiser than she gave him 
 credit for being. He did not at any rate pursue the 
 subject any farther, until he found an opportunity to 
 talk to Mrs. MacDonald herself. Then he artfully 
 mentioned the fellow on Mill Creek, and because she did 
 not know any reason for caution, he got all the infor- 
 mation he wanted, and more, for mommie was in one 
 of her garrulous humors. 
 
 He went away in a thoughtful mood, and I may as 
 well tell you why. Do you remember that evening when 
 Ward sat before the fire thinking so intently of a man 
 that he pulled a gun on Billy Louise when she startled 
 him? Well, this stock inspector was the man. And
 
 EACH IN HIS OWN TRAIL 201 
 
 this man went away from the Wolverine thinking of 
 Ward quite as intently as Ward sometimes thought of 
 him. If Billy Louise had thrown a chip and hit the 
 stock inspector on the back of the neck, it is very likely 
 that he would have pulled a gun, also. I 've an idea 
 that Billy Louise might have done something more than 
 throw a chip at him if she had known who he was; 
 but she did not know, and she slept the sounder for 
 her ignorance. 
 
 After that the days drifted quietly for a month and 
 grew nippier at each end and lazier in the middle; 
 which meant that the short summer was over, and 
 that fall was getting ready to paint the wooded slopes 
 with her gayest colors, and that one must prepare for 
 the siege of winter. 
 
 It was some time in the latter part of September that 
 Billy Louise got up in the middle of a frosty night 
 because she heard her mother moaning. That was 
 the beginning. She sent John off before daylight for 
 the doctor, and before the next night she stood with 
 her lips pressed together and watched the doctor count 
 mommie's pulse and take mommie's temperature, and 
 drew in her breath hardly when she saw how long he 
 studied the thermometer afterwards. 
 
 There was a month or so of going to and fro on 
 her toes and of watching the clock with a mind to 
 medicine-giving. There were nights and nights and 
 nights when the cabin window winked like a star fallen 
 into the coulee, from dusk to red dawn. Ward rode 
 over once, stayed all night, and went home in a silent 
 rage because he could not do a thing. 
 
 There was a week of fluctuating hope, and a time
 
 202 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 when the doctor said mommie must go to a hospital - 
 Boise, since she had friends there. And there was a 
 terrible, nerve-racking journey to the railroad. And 
 when Ward rode next to the Wolverine ranch, there was 
 no Billy Louise to taunt or tempt him. John Pringle 
 and Phcebe told him in brief, stolid sentences of the 
 later developments and gave him a meal and offered 
 him a bed, which he declined. 
 
 When the suspense became maddening, after that, 
 he would ride down to the Wolverine for news. And 
 the news was monotonously scant. Phoebe could read 
 and write, after a fashion, and Billy Louise sent her 
 a letter now and then, saying that mommie was about 
 the same, and that she wanted John to do certain things 
 about the ranch. She could not leave mommie, she 
 said. Ward gathered that she would not. 
 
 Once when he was at the ranch, he wrote a letter to 
 Billy Louise, and told her that he would come to Boise 
 if there was anything he could do, and begged her 
 to let him know if she needed any money. Beyond 
 that he worked and worked, and tried to crowd the lone- 
 someness out of his days and the hunger from his 
 dreams, with complete bone-weariness. He did not 
 expect an answer to his letter at least he told him- 
 self that he did not but one day Phoebe gave him 
 a thin little letter more precious in his eyes than the 
 biggest nugget he had found. 
 
 Billy Louise did not write much; she explained that 
 she could only scribble a line or two while mommie 
 slept. Mommie was about the same. She did not think 
 there was anything Ward could do, and she thanked 
 him for offering to help. There was nothing, she said
 
 EACH IN HIS OWN TRAIL 203 
 
 pathetically, that anybody could do; even the doctors 
 did not seem able to do much, except tell her lies and 
 charge her for them. No, she did not need any money, 
 " thank you just the same, Ward." That was about 
 all. It did not sound in the least like Billy Louise. 
 
 Ward answered the note then and there, and called 
 her Wilhemina-mine which was an awkward name 
 to write and cost him five minutes of cogitation over 
 the spelling. But he wanted it down on paper where 
 she could see it and remember how it sounded when 
 he said it, even if it did look queer. Farther along he 
 started to call her Bill Loo, but rubbed it out and sub- 
 stituted Lady Girl (with capitals). Altogether he did 
 better than he knew, for he made Billy Louise cry 
 when she read it, and he made her say " Dear Ward ! " 
 under her breath, and remember how his hair waved over 
 his left temple, and how he looked when that smile hid 
 just behind his lips and his eyes. And he made her 
 forget that she had lost faith in him. She needed to 
 cry, and she needed to remember and also to forget 
 some things; for life was a hard, dull drab in Boise, 
 with nothing to lighten it, save a vicarious hope that 
 did not comfort. 
 
 Billy Louise was not stupid. She saw through the 
 vagueness of the doctors ; and besides, she was so hungry 
 for her hills that she felt like beating the doctors with 
 her fists, because they did nothing to make her mom- 
 mie well enough to go home. She grew to hate the 
 nurse and her neutral cheerfulness. 
 
 That is how the fall passed for Billy Louise, and 
 the early part of the winter.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 ONE day late in the fall, Ward was riding the hills 
 off to the north and west of his claim, looking 
 at the condition of the range there and keeping an 
 eye out for Y6 cattle. He had bought another dozen 
 head of mixed stock, over toward Hardup, and they 
 were not yet past the point of straying off their new 
 range. So, having keen eyes and the incentive to use 
 them, he paid attention to stock tracks in the soft places, 
 and he saw everything within the sweep of his vision; 
 and, since the day was clear and fine, his range of 
 vision, when he reached a high point, extended to the 
 Three Buttes away out in the desert. 
 
 By sheer accident he rode up to the canyon where the 
 little corral lay hidden at the end, and looked down. 
 And since he rode up at an angle different from the 
 one Billy Louise had taken, the corral was directly 
 beneath him so directly, in fact, that half of it was 
 hidden from sight. He saw that there were cattle within 
 it, however, and two men at work there. And by chance 
 he lifted his eyes and saw the nose of a horse beyond 
 a jutting ledge sixty yards or so away, and the crown 
 of a hat showing just above the ledge; a lookout, he 
 judged instantly, and pulled Rattler behind the rock 
 he had been at some pains to ride around. 
 
 Ward was a cowpuncher. He knew the tricks of
 
 'YOU WON'T GET ME AGAIN' 205 
 
 the trade so well that he did not wonder what was 
 going on down there. He knew. He was tempted *o 
 do as Billy Louise had done ride on and pass up 
 knowledge which might be disagreeable; for Ward was 
 not one to spy upon his fellows, and the man whom he 
 would betray into the hands of a sheriff must be guilty 
 of a most heinous crime. That was his code: To let 
 every fellow have a chance to work out his own salva- 
 tion or damnation as he might choose. I don't sup^ 
 pose there was anything he hated worse than an in- 
 former. 
 
 He got behind the rock, since he had no great desire 
 to be shot, and he discovered that his view of the corral 
 was much plainer than from where he had first seen 
 it. He looked behind him for an easy retreat to the 
 skyline, and then b'efore he turned to ride away, he 
 glanced down again curiously. 
 
 A man walked out into the center of the corral and 
 stood there in the revealing sunlight. Ward's eyes bored 
 like gimlets through the space that divided them. In- 
 stinctively his hand went to the gun on his hip. It 
 was a long pistol shot, and he was afraid he might 
 miss; for Ward was not a wizard with a gun, much 
 as I should like to misrepresent him as a dead shot. 
 He was human, just like yourself. He could shoot 
 pretty well, a great deal better than lots of men who 
 do more boasting than he ever did, but he frequently 
 missed. He measured the distance with his mind while 
 the man stood there talking to someone unseen. To 
 look at Ward's face, you would have sworn that the 
 man was doomed; but something held Ward's finger 
 from crooking on the trigger; the man had his back
 
 206 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 turned squarely toward the gun. Ward waited. The 
 man did not move. He waited another minute, and 
 then he opened his lips to shout. And when his lips 
 parted for the call that would bring the fellow facing 
 him, Ward's tricky brain snapped before his eyes the 
 face of Billy Louise. 
 
 He lowered the gun. He could not shoot when he 
 knew that the bullet would split a gulf between himself 
 and the girl a gulf that would separate him forever 
 from that future where stood his air castles. Billy 
 Louise had talked to him very seriously one day about 
 this very possibility. She had made him see that shoot- 
 ing this man would be the worst thing he could pos- 
 sibly do. 
 
 He let down the hammer with his thumb, slid the 
 gun back into its holster, and dismounted, with a glance 
 toward the place where the lookout was stationed. He 
 was sure he had not been seen, and so he crouched 
 behind a splinter of rock and watched. He had no plan, 
 but his instinct impelled him to closely watch Buck 
 Olney. 
 
 Another man came into view, down there in the cor- 
 ral. He also stood plainly revealed, and Ward gave 
 a little snort of contemptuous surprise when he rec- 
 ognized him. After that he studied the situation with 
 scowling brows. This other man either upset his con- 
 clusions or complicated his manner of dealing with 
 Buck Olney. Ward would not have hesitated one sec- 
 ond about putting the sheriff on the trail of Buck, but 
 if the second man were implicated, he could not betray 
 one without betraying the other. And if the busi- 
 ness down there in the corral were lawful, then he
 
 ' YOU WON'T GET ME AGAIN ' 207 
 
 must think of some other means. At any rate, the 
 thing to do now was to make sure. 
 
 The two in the corral came out and closed the gate 
 behind them, and the first man kicked apart the em- 
 bers of a small fire and afterward busied himself with 
 the ground either looking for tracks or covering them 
 up. They came a little way along the side of the bluff, 
 mounted, and rode up toward where the lookout waited. 
 And one of them rode a dark bay, and was slim and 
 tall, and wore a gray hat. 
 
 Ward glanced at Rattler standing half asleep with 
 reins dropped to the ground. He reached out, took 
 the reins, and led the horse farther down under the 
 shelter of the ledge. Rattler pricked up his ears at 
 the sound of those other riders, but he did not show 
 enough interest to nicker a greeting; he was always a 
 self-centered beast and was content to go his way alone, 
 like his master. 
 
 Ward stood up, where he could see the rim of the 
 bluff over the ledge of lava rock. He might get a closer 
 view and see who was the lookout, and he might be 
 seen; for that contingency he kept his fingers close 
 to his gun. He heard their scrambling progress. Now 
 and then one of the horses sent a little rock bounding 
 down into the canyon, whereat the cattle in the corral 
 moved restlessly around the small inclosure. 
 
 They came closer, after they had gained the top. 
 Ward, leaning against the dull-gray rock before him, 
 heard the murmur of their voices. Once he caught 
 the unmistakable tones of the man he would like to 
 kill. " I '11 keep cases and git him." Plotting against 
 some poor devil, as usual, Ward thought, and wondered
 
 208 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 if the man knew he lived in this part of the country; 
 if he did, it might easily be 
 
 " I '11 keep cases some myself, you damned reptile," 
 he muttered under his breath. " You won't get me 
 again, if that 's what you 've got in mind." 
 
 They went on, and presently Ward was looking at 
 their backs as they rode over the ridge. He stood for 
 some time staring after them with what Billy Louise 
 called his gimlet look. He was breathing shortly from 
 the pressure he had put upon his self-control, and he 
 was thinking thinking. 
 
 The silence came creeping in on the heels of the 
 faint, interrupted sound of their voices. Ward took a 
 long breath, discovered that he was gripping his gun 
 as though his life depended on hanging to it, and rubbed 
 his numbed fingers absently. After a minute or so, 
 he mounted and rode down to the corral. 
 
 Five dry cows and two steers snorted at his ap- 
 proach and crowded against the farther rails. Ward 
 gave Rattler a touch of the spurs, rode close to the 
 fence, and stood in his stirrups while he studied the 
 bunch. 
 
 " Hell ! " he said, when the inspection was over, and 
 dropped back into the saddle while ne gazed unsee- 
 ingly at the canyon wall. It was a very real hell 
 that his mind saw ; a hell made by men, wherein other 
 men must dwell in torment because of their sins or 
 the sins of their fellows. 
 
 Seabeck's brand was a big V, a bad brand to own, 
 since it favors revision at the hands of the unscrupu- 
 lous. These cattle were Seabeck cattle, and their brand 
 had been altered. For the right slant of the V had
 
 ' YOU WON'T GET ME AGAIN ' 209 
 
 been extended a little and curled into a 6, so that in time 
 the brand would stand casual inspection as a Y6 mono- 
 gram Ward's own brand. The work was crude 
 purposefully crude. The V had not been reburned 
 enough to make it look fresh, and the newly seared 6 
 had been added with a malevolent pressure that would 
 make it stand out a fresh brand for a long time in 
 case of a delay in the proceedings, as Ward knew per- 
 fectly well. 
 
 So he sat there and looked over the fence and saw 
 himself a convicted " rustler." There was the evidence, 
 all ready to damn him utterly before a jury. They 
 would be turned loose on the range near his claim, 
 and they would be found before the scabs had haired 
 over. It was a good time for rustling; round-ups were 
 over for the winter, and the weather would confine 
 range-riding to absolute necessity. 
 
 Of course, the work was coarse so coarse as to 
 reflect against his intelligence; but when brands are 
 worked over and the culprit has been caught, the law 
 is not too careful to give the prisoner credit for brains. 
 
 Ward stared at the altered brands and wondered 
 what he had best do. He bethought him that perhaps 
 it would be as well to put a little scenery between him- 
 self and that particular locality, and he started back 
 up the hill. Once he pulled up as if he would go back, 
 but he thought better of it. It was out of the question 
 to turn those cattle loose. He could not kill them and 
 dispose of the bodies not when there were seven of 
 them. He might go down and blotch the brands so 
 that they would not read anything at all. He had 
 thought of that before and decided against it. That
 
 210 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 would put those three on their guard and would prob- 
 ably not benefit him in the long run. They could work 
 the brands on other cattle. 
 
 He hunched forward in the saddle and let Rattler 
 choose his own trail up the hill. Though he did not 
 know it, trouble had caught Billy Louise in that same 
 place, and had sent her forward with drooping shoul- 
 ders and a mind so absorbed that she gave no atten- 
 tion to her horse; but that is merely a trifling coin- 
 cidence. The thing he had to decide was far more com- 
 plicated than Billy Louise's problem. 
 
 Should he go straight to Seabeck and tell him what 
 he had found out? He did not know Seabeck, except 
 as he had met him once or twice on the trail and ex- 
 changed trivial greetings and a few words about the 
 weather. Besides, Seabeck would very soon find out 
 
 There it stood at his shoulder, grinning at him malevo- 
 lently his past. It tied his hands. Buck Olney 
 he could deal with single-handed ; for Olney had the fear 
 of him that is born of a guilty conscience. He could 
 send Buck " over the road " whenever he chose to tell 
 some things he knew; he could do it without any com- 
 punctions, too. Buck Olney, the stock inspector, de- 
 served no mercy at Ward's hands ; and would get none, 
 if ever they met where Ward would have a chance at 
 him. 
 
 Olney he could deal with, alone. But with the evi- 
 dence of those rebranded cattle, and the testimony of 
 two men, together with the damning testimony of his 
 past! Ward lifted his head and stared heavily at the 
 pine slope before him. He could not go to Seabeck 
 and tell him anything. In the black hour of that ride,
 
 YOU WON'T GET ME AGAIN ' 211 
 
 he could not think of anything that he could do that 
 would save him. 
 
 And then quite suddenly, in his desperation, he de- 
 cided upon something. He laughed hardly, turned 
 Rattler back from the homeward trail, and returned to 
 the corral in the canyon. " They started this game, 
 and they 've put it up to me," he told himself grimly, 
 " and they need n't squeal if they burn their own 
 fingers." 
 
 He hurried, for he had some work ahead of him, and 
 the sun was sliding past the noon mark already. He 
 reached the corral and went about what he had to do 
 as if he were working for wages and wanted to give 
 good measure. 
 
 First, he rebuilt the little fire just outside the corral 
 where the cattle could not trample it, but where one 
 might thrust a branding iron into its midst from be- 
 tween the rails. When it was going properly, he 
 searched certain likely hiding-places and found an iron 
 still warm from previous service. He thrust it in to 
 heat, 4ed Rattler into the corral, and closed the gate 
 securely behind him. Then he mounted, took down 
 his rope and widened the loop, while his angry eyes 
 singled out the animal he wanted first. 
 
 Ward was not an adept with a " running iron " ; he 
 was honest, whatever men might say of him. But he 
 know how to tie down an animal, and he sacrificed 
 part of his lariat to get the short rope he needed to 
 tip their feet together. He worked fast no telling 
 what minute someone might come and catch him 
 and he did his work well, far better and neater than 
 had his predecessors.
 
 212 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 When he left that corral, he smiled. Before he 
 had ridden very far up the bluff, he stopped, looked 
 down at the long-suffering cattle, and smiled again sar- 
 donically. One could read their brands easily from 
 where he sat on his horse. They were not blotched; 
 they were very distinct. But they were not Y6s within 
 that corral. There were other brands which might 
 be made of a Y6 monogram, by the judicious addition 
 of a mark here and a mark there. 
 
 " There, damn yuh : chew on that awhile ! " he apos- 
 trophized the absent three. He turned away and rode 
 back once more toward home. 
 
 Kattler turned naturally into the trail which ran 
 up the creek to the ranch, but Ward immediately turned 
 him out of it. " We are n't going to overlook any bets, 
 old-timer," he said grimly and crossed the creek at a 
 point where it was too rocky to leave any hoof-prints 
 behind them. He rode up the lower point of the ridge 
 beyond and followed the crest of it on the side away 
 from the valley. When he reached a point nearly op- 
 posite his cabin, he dismounted, unbuckled his spurs, 
 and slipped their chains over the saddle-horn. Then 
 he went forward afoot to reconnoitre. He was careful 
 to avoid rock or gravelly patches and to walk always 
 on the soft grass which muffled his steps. 
 
 In. this wise he made his way to the top of the ridge, 
 where he could look down upon the cabin and stable 
 and corrals and see also the creek trail for a good 
 quarter of a mile. The little valley lay quiet. His 
 team fed undisturbed by the creek not far from the 
 corral, which reassured Ward more than anything. 
 Still, he waited until he had made reasonably sure
 
 ' YOU WON'T GET ME AGAIN ' 213 
 
 that the bluff held no watcher concealed before he went 
 back to where Rattler waited patiently. 
 
 " I guess they did n't plan to stir things up till they 
 got those critters planted where they wanted them," 
 he mused, while he rode down the bluff to his cabin. 
 " But when they visit that bunch of stock again, I 
 reckon things will begin to tighten ! " 
 
 He was wary of exposing himself too much to view 
 from the bluff while he did his chores that night, and 
 he kept Rattler in the stable. Also, he slept very 
 little, and before daybreak he was up and away. He 
 had a rolled army blanket tied behind the saddle, a 
 sack of grub and a frying-pan and a bucket for coffee. 
 But he did not go any farther than the wolf-den, and he 
 spent a couple of hours removing as well as he could 
 any suspicious traces of having dug anything more 
 than wolf pups from the bank on the ledge.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 GOING TO TAKE YOU OUT AND HANG YOU " 
 
 TTTF. trouble with a man like Buck Olney is that 
 you can never be sure of his method, except that 
 it will be underhand and calculated to eliminate as 
 much as possible any risk to himself. Ward, casting 
 back into his memory he had known Buck Olney 
 very well, once upon a time, and in his unsuspecting 
 youth had counted him a friend tried to guess how 
 Buck would proceed when he went down to that corral 
 and found how those brands had been retouched. 
 
 " He '11 be running around in circles for awhile, all 
 right," he deduced with an air of certainty. " Blotched 
 brands he 'd know was my work ; and he could have 
 put it on me, too, with a good yarn about trailing me 
 so close I got cold feet. As it is " Ward smoked 
 two cigarettes and scowled at the scenery. As it was, 
 he did not know just what Buck Olney would do, ex- 
 cept " If he makes a guess I did that, he '11 know 
 I 'm wise to the whole plant. And he '11 get me, sure, 
 providing I stand with my back to him long enough ! " 
 Ward had his back to a high ledge, at that moment, 
 so that he did not experience any impulse to look 
 behind him. 
 
 " Buck don't want to drag me up before a jury," 
 he reasoned further. " He 'd a heap rather pack me
 
 " I 'M GOI^G TO TAKE YOU ' 215 
 
 in all wrapped up in a tarp, and say how he 'd canght 
 me with the goods, and I resisted arrest." 
 
 The assurance he felt as to what Buck Olney would 
 do did not particularly frighten Ward, even if he did 
 neglect to go to bed in his cabin during the next few 
 days. That was common sense, born of his knowledge 
 of the man he was dealing with. He went to the cabin 
 warily, just often enough to give it an air of occupancy. 
 He frequently sat upon some hilltop and watched a lazy 
 thread of smoke weave upward from his rusty stovepipe, 
 but he slept out under the stars rolled in his heavy 
 blanket, and he never crossed a ridge if he could make 
 his way through a hollow. It is not always cowardice 
 which makes a man extremely careful not to fall into 
 the hands of his enemy. There is a small matter of 
 pride involved. Ward would have died almost any 
 death rather than give Buck Olney the satisfaction 
 of " getting " him. For a few days he was cautious as 
 an Indian on the war trail, and then his patience fraz- 
 zled out under the strain. 
 
 At sunrise one morning, after a night of shivering 
 in his blanket, he hunched his shoulders in disgust of 
 his caution. If Buck Olney wanted anything of him, 
 he was certainly taking his time about coming after 
 it. Ward rubbed his fingers over his stubbly jaw, 
 and the uncomfortable prickling was the last small de- 
 tail of discomfort that decided him. He was going 
 to have a shave and a decent cup of coffee and eat off 
 his own table, or know the reason why, he promised 
 himself while he slapped the saddle on Rattler. 
 
 He was camped in a sheltered little hollow in the 
 hills, where the grass was good and there was a spring.
 
 216 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 It was a mile and more to his claim, straight across 
 the upland, and it was his habit to leave Rattler there 
 and walk over to the ridge, where he could watch his 
 claim; frequently, as I have said, he stole down be- 
 fore daylight and lighted a fire in the stove, just to 
 make it look as if he lived there. There was a risk 
 in that, of course, granting that the stock inspector 
 was the kind to lie in wait for him. 
 
 Ward rode to the ridge, with his blanket rolled and 
 tied behind the cantle. His frying-pan hung behind 
 his leg, and his rifle lay across the saddle in front of 
 him. He was going home boldly enough and recklessly 
 enough, but he was by no means disposed to walk de- 
 liberately into a trap. He kept his eye peeled, as he 
 would have expressed it. Also, he left Rattler just 
 under the crest of the ridge, took off his spurs, and 
 with his rifle in his hands went forward afoot, as he 
 had done every time he had approached his cabin since 
 the day he found the corral and the cattle in the 
 canyon. 
 
 In this wise he looked down the steep slope with the 
 sun throwing the shadow of his head and shoulders be- 
 fore him. The cabin window blinked cheerfully in 
 the sunlight. His span of mares were coming up from 
 the meadow in the faint hope of getting a break- 
 fast of oats, perhaps. The place looked peaceful enough 
 and cozily desirable to a man who has slept out for 
 four nights late in the fall ; but a glance was all Ward 
 gave to it. 
 
 His eyes searched the bluff below him and upon either 
 side. Of a sudden they sharpened. He brought his 
 rifle forward with an involuntary motion of the arms.
 
 " I 'M GOING TO TAKE YOU ' 217 
 
 He stood so for a breath or two, looking down the hill. 
 Then he went forward stealthily, on his toes ; swiftly, 
 too, so that presently he was close enough to see the car- 
 buncle scar on the neck of the man crouched behind 
 a rock and watching the cabin as a cat watches a* mouse- 
 hole. A rifle lay across the rock before the man, the 
 muzzle pointing downward. At that distance, and from 
 a dead rest, it would be strange if he should miss any 
 object he shot at. He had what gamblers call a cinch, 
 or he would have had, if the man he watched for had not 
 been standing directly behind him, with rifle-sights in 
 a line with the scar on the back of his thick neck. 
 
 " Throw up your hands ! " Ward called sharply, 
 when his first flare of rage had cooled to steady 
 purpose. 
 
 Buck Olney jumped as though a yellow-jacket had 
 stung him. He turned a startled face over his shoul- 
 der and jerked the rifle up from the rock. Ward raised 
 his sights a little and plugged a round, black-rimmed 
 hole through Buck's hat crown. 
 
 " Throw up your hands, I told you ! " he said, while 
 the hills opposite were still flinging back the sound of 
 the shot, and came closer. 
 
 Buck grunted an oath, dropped the rifle so suddenly 
 that it clattered on the rock, and lifted his hands high 
 in the quiet sunlight. 
 
 . " Get up from there and go on down to the shack 
 and keep your hands up. And remember all the rea- 
 sons I 've got for wanting to see you make a crooked 
 move, so I '11 have an excuse to shoot." Ward came 
 still closer as he spoke. He was wishing he had 
 brought his rope along. He did not feel quite easy in
 
 218 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 his mind while Buck Olney's hands were free. He 
 kept thinking of what Billy Louise had said to him 
 about shooting this man, and it was the first time 
 since he had known her that he disliked the thought of 
 her. 
 
 Buck got up awkwardly and went stumbling down 
 the steep slope, with his hands trembling in the air 
 upon either side of his head. From their nervous quiv- 
 ering it was evident that hi^s memory was good, and 
 that it was working upon the subject which Ward had 
 suggested to him. He did not give Ward the weakest 
 imitation of an excuse to shoot. And so the two of 
 them came presently down upon the level and passed 
 around the cabin to the door, with no more than ten 
 feet of space between them so inexorably had Ward 
 crowded close upon the other's stumbling progress. 
 
 " Hold on a minute ! " 
 
 Buck stopped as still as though he had gone against 
 a rock wall. 
 
 Ward came closer, and Buck flinched away from 
 the feel of the rifle muzzle between his shoulder blades. 
 Ward reached out a cautious hand and pulled the six- 
 shooter from its scabbard at Buck's right hip. 
 
 " Got a knife ? You always used to go heeled with 
 one. Speak up and don't lie about it." 
 
 " Inside my coat," grunted Buck, and Ward's lip 
 curled while he reached around the man's bulky body 
 and found the knife in its leather sheath. Evidently 
 Buck was still remembering with disquieting exactness 
 what reasons Ward might have for wanting to kill 
 him. 
 
 " Take down your left hand and open the door."
 
 " I 'M GOING TO TAKE YOU ' 219 
 
 Buck did so and put his hand up again without 
 being told. 
 
 " Now go in and stand with your face to the wall." 
 With the rifle muzzle, Ward indicated which wall. He 
 noticed how Buck's fingers groped and trembled against 
 the wall, just under the eaves, and his lip curled again 
 in the expression which Billy Louise so hated to see. 
 
 Ward had chosen the spot where he could reach easily 
 a small coil of rope. He kept the rifle pressing Buck's 
 shoulders until he had shifted the knife into one hand, 
 leaned, and laid its blade against Buck's cheek. 
 
 " Feel that ? I '11 jab it clear through you if you 
 give me a chance. Drop your hands down behind you." 
 He spent a busy minute with the rope before he pushed 
 Buck Olney roughly toward a chair. 
 
 Buck sat down, and Ward did a little more rope- 
 work. 
 
 " Say, Ward, you 're making a big mistake if you " 
 
 " Shut up ! " snapped Ward. " Can't you see I 'm 
 standing all I can stand, just with the sight of you? 
 Don't pile it on too thick by letting me hear you talk. 
 I heard you once too often as it is." 
 
 Buck Olney caught his breath and sat very still. His 
 eyes followed Ward as the eyes of a caged animal fol- 
 low its keeper. 
 
 Ward tried to ignore his presence completely while 
 he lighted a fire and fried bacon and made coffee, but 
 the hard set of his jaw and the cold intentness of his 
 eyes proved how conscious he was of Buck's presence. 
 He tried to eat just to show how calm he was, but the 
 bread and bacon choked him. He could feel every 
 nerve in his body quiver with the hatred he felt for
 
 220 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 the man, and the bitterness which the sight of him 
 called up out of the past. He drank four cups of cof- 
 fee, black and sweetened at random, which steadied 
 him a little. That he did not offer Buck food or drink 
 showed how intense was his hatred; as a rule, your 
 true range man is hospitable even to his enemies. 
 
 He rose and inspected the ropes to make sure that 
 they were proof against twisting, straining muscles, 
 and took an extra turn or two with the loose end, just 
 to make doubly sure of the man's helplessness. 
 
 " Where did you leave your horse ? " he asked him 
 curtly, when he was through. 
 
 Buck told him, his eyes searching Ward's face for 
 mercy or at least for some clew to his fate and 
 dulling with disappointment because he could read 
 nothing there but loathing. 
 
 Without speaking again, Ward went out and closed 
 the door firmly behind him. He felt relieved to be 
 away from Buck's presence. As he climbed the bluff 
 and mentally relived the last hour, he wondered how he 
 had kept from shooting Buck as soon as he saw him. 
 Still, that would have defeated his main*purpose, which 
 was to make Buck suffer. He was afraid he could not 
 make Buck suffer as Buck had made him suffer, because 
 there were obstacles in the path of a perfect retribution. 
 
 Ward was not cruel by nature; at least he was not 
 more cruel than the rest of us; but as he went after 
 Rattler and Buck's horse, it pleased him to know that 
 Buck Olney was tied hand and foot in his cabin, and 
 that he was sick with dread of what the future held 
 for him. 
 
 Ward was gone an hour. He did not hurry; there
 
 " I 'M GOING TO TAKE YOU ' 221 
 
 was no need. Buck could not get away, and a little 
 suspense would do him good. 
 
 Buck's face was pasty when Ward opened the door. 
 His eyes were a bit glassy. And from the congested 
 appearance of his hands, Ward judged that" he had 
 tested to the full his helplessness in his bonds. Ward 
 looked at him a minute and got out the makings of a 
 smoke. His mood had changed in his absence. He 
 no longer wanted absolute silence between them; in- 
 stead, he showed symptoms of wanting to talk. 
 
 " If I turn you loose, Buck, what will you do ? " he 
 asked at last, in a curious tone. 
 
 " If you Ward, I '11 prove I 'm a friend to yuh in 
 spite of the idea you 've got that I ain't. I never done 
 nothing " 
 
 " No, of course not." Ward's lip curled. " That 
 was my mistake, maybe. You always used to say you 
 were my friend, when " 
 
 " And that 'a the God's truth, Ward ! " Buck's face 
 was becoming flushed with his eagerness. " I done 
 everything I could for you, Ward, but the way the 
 cards laid I could n't " 
 
 " Get me hanged. I know ; you sure tried hard 
 enough ! " Ward puffed hard at his cigarette, and the 
 lips that held it trembled a little. Otherwise he seemed 
 perfectly cool and calm. 
 
 " Say, Ward, them lawyers lied to you." 
 
 " Oh, cut it out, Buck. I 've seen you wriggle 
 through a snake-hole before. I believe you 're my 
 friend, just the way you 've always been." 
 
 " That 's right, Ward, and I can prove it." 
 
 Ward snorted. " You proved it, old-timer, when you
 
 222 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 laid up there behind a rock with your sights on this 
 shack, ready to get me when I came out. I sabe now 
 how it happened Jim McGuire was found face down 
 in the spring behind his shack, with a bullet hole in 
 his back, that time. You were his friend, too ! " 
 
 "Ward, I " 
 
 " Shut up. I just wanted to see if you 'd changed 
 any in the last seven years. You have n't, unless it 's 
 for the worse. You 've got to the end of the trail, 
 old-timer. When you went laying for me, you fixed 
 yourself a-plenty. Do you want to know what I 'm 
 going to do to you ? " 
 
 " Ward, you would n't dare shoot me ! With the 
 record you 've got, you would n't stand " 
 
 " Who gave it to me, huh ? Oh, I heap sabe ; you 've 
 left word with your pardners that you were coming up 
 here to arrest me single-handed. They will give the 
 alarm, if you don't show up ; and I '11 go on the dodge 
 and get caught and " Ward threw away his cigarette 
 and took a step toward his captive; a step so ominous 
 that Buck squirmed in his bonds. 
 
 " Well, you can rest easy on one point. I 'm not 
 going to shoot you." Ward stood still and watched the 
 light of hope flare in the eyes of his enemy. " I 'm 
 going to wash the dishes and take a shave and then 
 I 'm going to take you out somewhere and hang you." 
 
 " My God, Ward! You you " 
 
 " I told you, seven years ago," went on Ward stead- 
 ily, " that I 'd see you hung before I was through with 
 you. Kemember? By rights you ought to hang by 
 the heels, over a slow fire ! You 're about as low a 
 specimen of humanity as I ever saw or heard of. You
 
 " I 'M GOING TO TAKE YOU " 223 
 
 know what you did for me, Buck. And you know what 
 I told you would happen ; well, it 's going to come off 
 according to the programme. 
 
 " I did think of running you in and giving you a 
 taste of hell yourself. But, as usual, you 've gone and 
 tangled up a couple of fellows that never dicf me any 
 particular harm and I don't want to hand them any- 
 thing if I can help it. So I '11 just string you up 
 after awhile, when I get around to it and leave a 
 note saying who you are, and that you 're the head push 
 in this rustling business-, and that you helped spend 
 the money that Hardup bank lost awhile back; and 
 that you 're one of the gazabos " 
 
 " You can't prove it ! You " 
 
 " I don't have to prove it. The authorities will do 
 all that when they get the tip I '11 give them. And 
 you, being hung up on a limb somewhere, can't very 
 well give your pardners the double-cross ; so they '11 
 have a fighting chance to make their getaway. 
 
 " Xow, I 'm through talking to you. What I say 
 goes. You can talk if you want to, Buck ; but I 'm 
 going to carve a steak out of you every time you open 
 your mouth." He pulled Buck's own knife out of its 
 sheath and laid it convenient to his hand, and he looked 
 as if he would do any cruel thing he threatened. 
 
 He relighted the fire, which had gone out long ago, 
 and set the dish-pan on the stove with water to heat. 
 He remade his bunk, spreading on the army blanket 
 which he to#k from the saddle on Rattler. He swept 
 the floor as neatly as any woman could have done it 
 and laid the two wolf-skins down in their places where 
 they did duty as rugs. He washed and wiped his few
 
 224 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 dishes, keeping Buck's knife always within reach and 
 sending an inquiring glance toward Buck whenever that 
 unhappy man made the slightest movement, though 
 truth to tell, Buck did not make many. He brought 
 two pails of water and set them on the bench inside, 
 and in the meantime he had cooked a mess of prunes 
 and set them in. a bowl on the window-sill beside his 
 bunk, where the air was coolest. He stropped his razor 
 painstakingly and shaved himself in leisurely fashion 
 and sent an occasional glance toward his prisoner from 
 the looking-glass, which made Buck swallow hard at 
 his Adam's apple. 
 
 And Buck, during all this time, never once opened 
 his lips, except to lick his tongue across them, and never 
 once took his eyes off Ward. 
 
 " I 've sure put the fear of the Lord into you, have n't 
 I, Buck ? " Ward observed maliciously, wiping a blob 
 of hairy lather upon a page torn from an old Sears- 
 Roebuck catalogue. " I was kinda hoping you had 
 more nerve. I wanted to get a whack at you, just to 
 prove I 'm not joshing." 
 
 Buck swallowed again, but he made no reply. 
 
 Ward washed his face in a basin of steaming water, 
 got a can of talcum out of the dish cupboard, and took 
 the soap-shine off his cheeks and chin. He combed his 
 hair before the little mirror trying unavailingly to 
 take the wave out of it with water, and leaving it more 
 crinkly over his temples than it had been in the first 
 place and retied the four-in-hand under the soft 
 collar of his shirt. 
 
 " I wish you 'd talk, Buck," he said, turning toward 
 the other. He looked very boyish and almost hand-
 
 " I 'M GOING TO TAKE YOU " 225 
 
 some, except for the expression of his eyes, which gave 
 Buck the shivers, and the set of his lips, which was 
 cruel. " I've read how the Chinks hand out what they 
 call the death-of-a-thousand-cuts ; I was thinking I 'd 
 like to try it out on you. But oh, well, this is Fri- 
 day. It may as well go as a hanging." He made a 
 poor job of his calm irony, but Buck was not in the 
 mental condition to be critical. 
 
 The main facts were sufficiently ominous to offset 
 Ward's attempt at facetiousness. Indeed, the very 
 weakness of the attempt was in itself ominous. Ward 
 might try to be coldly malevolent, but the light that 
 burned in his eyes, and the rage that tightened his lips, 
 gave the lie to his forced composure. 
 
 He went out and led up the horses to the door. He 
 came back and started to untie Buck Olney's feet, 
 then bethought him of the statement he had promised 
 to write. He got a magazine and tore out the fron- 
 tispiece which, oddly enough, was a somber picture 
 of Death hovering with outstretched wings over a bat- 
 tlefield and wrote several lines in pencil on the back 
 of it, where the paper was smooth and white. 
 
 " How 's that ? " he asked, holding up the paper so 
 that Buck could read what he had written. " I ain't 
 in the mood to sit down and write a whole book, so 
 I had to boil down your pedigree. But that will do the 
 business all right, don't you think ? " 
 
 Buck read with staring eyes, looked into Ward's face, 
 and opened his lips for protest or pleading. Then he 
 followed Ward's glance to the knife on the table and 
 shut his mouth with a snap. Ward laughed grimly, 
 picked up the knife, and ran his thumb lightly over
 
 226 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 the edge to test its keenness. " Put a fresh edge on 
 it for me, huh ? " he commented. " Well, we may as 
 well get started, I reckon. I 'm getting almighty sick 
 of seeing you around." 
 
 He loosened the rope that bound Buck to the chair 
 and stood scowling down at him, drawing in a corner 
 of his lip and biting it thoughtfully. Then he took his 
 revolver and held it in his left hand, while with his 
 right he undid the rope which bound Buck's hands. 
 
 " Stick your hands out in front of you," he com- 
 manded. " You '11 have to ride a ways ; there is n't any 
 gallows tree in walking distance." 
 
 " For God's sake, Ward ! " Buck's voice was hoarse. 
 The plea came out of its own accord. He held his 
 hands before him, however, and he made no attempt 
 to get out of the chair. He knew Ward could shoot 
 all right with his left hand, you see. He had watched 
 him practice on tin cans, long ago when the two were 
 friends. 
 
 " You know what I told you," Ward reminded him 
 grimly and took up the knife with a deadly air that 
 made the other suck in his breath. " Hold still ! I 'm 
 liable to cut your throat if I make a mislick." 
 
 Really, it was the way he did it that made it ter- 
 rible. The thing itself was nothing. He merely drew 
 the back of the blade down alongside Buck's ear, and 
 permitted the point to scratch through the skin barely 
 enough to let out a thin trickle of blood. A pin would 
 have hurt worse. But Buck groaned and believed he 
 had lost an ear. He breathed in gasps, but did not say 
 a word. 
 
 " Go ahead ; talk all you want to, Buck," Ward in-
 
 ' I 'M GOING TO TAKE YOU " 227 
 
 vited, and wiped the knife-blade on Buck's shoulder 
 before he returned the weapon to its sheath in his 
 inside coat pocket. 
 
 Buck flinched from the touch and set his teeth. 
 
 Ward tied his hands before him and told him to get 
 up and go out to his horse. Buck obeyed with abject 
 submissiveness, and Ward's lip curled again as he 
 walked behind him to the door. He had not the slight- 
 est twinge of pity for the man. He was gloatingly glad 
 that he could make him suffer, and he inwardly cursed 
 his own humanity for being so merciful. He ought 
 to have cut Buck's ear off slick and clean instead of 
 making a bluff at it, he told himself disgustedly. Buck 
 deserved it and more. 
 
 He helped Buck into the saddle, took the short rope 
 in his hands, and hobbled Buck's feet under the horse, 
 grasped the bridle-reins, and mounted Rattler. With- 
 out a word he set off up the rough trail toward Hardup, 
 leading Buck's horse behind him.
 
 CHAPTEK XVII 
 
 * SO-I/ONG, BUCK ! " 
 
 want to tel1 
 
 you need n't jolly yourself into thinking your 
 death will be avenged. It won't. You noticed what 
 I wrote ; and there is n't a scrap of my writing any- 
 where in the country to catch me up " Ward's 
 thoughts went to Billy Louise, who had some very good 
 samples, and he stopped suddenly. He was trying 
 not to think of Billj Louise, to-day. " Also, when 
 somebody happens to ride this way and sees you, I 
 won't be anywhen* around." 
 
 " This is the tree/' he added, stopping under a cot- 
 tonwood that flung a big branch out over the narrow 
 cow-trail they were traveling. " The chances are friend 
 Floyd will be ambling around this way in a day or 
 two," he said hearteningly. " He can tend to the last 
 sad rites and take charge of your horse. He 's liable 
 to be sore when he reads your pedigree, but I don't 
 reckon that will mak a great deal of difference. You '11 
 get buried, all right, Buck." 
 
 Ward dismounted with a most businesslike man- 
 ner and untied Buck Olney's rope from the saddle. " I 
 can't spare mine," he explained laconically. He had 
 some trouble in fashioning a hangman's noose. He had 
 not had muck practice, he remarked to Buck after the 
 first attempt
 
 " SO-LONG, BUCK! " 229 
 
 " How do you do it, Buck t You know more about 
 these things than I do," he taunted. " You 've helped 
 hang lots of poor devils that will be glad to meet yuh 
 in hell to-day." 
 
 Buck Olney moistened his dry lips. Ward glanced 
 at his face and looked quickly away. Staring, abject 
 terror is not nice to look upon, even though the man 
 is your worst enemy and is suffering justly for his 
 sins. Ward's fingers fumbled the rope as though his 
 determination were weakening. Then he remembered 
 some things, hunched his shoulders, impatient of the 
 merciful impulse, and began the knot again. An old 
 prospector had shown him once how it was done. 
 
 " Of course, a plain slip-knot would do the business 
 all right," he said. " But I '11 try and give you the 
 genuine thing, same as you gave the other fellows." 
 
 " Ward, for God's sake, let me go ! " 
 
 Ward started. He did not know that a man's voica 
 could change so much in so short a time. He never 
 would have recognized the tones as coming from Buck 
 Olney's loose, complacent lips. 
 
 " Ward, I '11 never I 'H leare the country I '11 
 go to South America, or Australia, or " 
 
 " You '11 go to hell, Buck," Ward cut in inexorably. 
 " You 've got your ticket." 
 
 " I '11 own up to everything. 1 11 tell you where 
 some of the money's cached we got in that Hardup deal, 
 Ward. There 's enough to put you Easy Street. I '11 
 tell you who helped " 
 
 "You'd better not," advised Ward harshly, "or 
 I '11 make hanging a relief to you. I know pretty 
 well, right now, all you could tell. And if I wanted
 
 230 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 to send your pardners up, I would n't need your help. 
 It 's partly to give them a chance that I 'm sending you 
 out this way, myself. I don't call this murder, Buck. 
 I 'm saving the State a lot of time and trouble, that 's 
 all ; and your pardners the black eye they 'd get for 
 throwing in with you. I heap sabe who was the head 
 push. You got them in to take whatever dropped, so 
 you could get off slick and clean, just as you 've done 
 before, you you " 
 
 Buck Olney got it then, hot from the fires of Ward's 
 wrath. A man does not brood over treachery and wrong 
 and a blackened future for years, without storing up 
 a good many things that he means to say to the friend 
 who has played him false. Ward had been a happy-go- 
 lucky young fellow who had faith in men and in him- 
 self and in his future. He had lived through black, 
 hopeless days and weeks and months, because of this 
 man who tried now to buy mercy with the faith of his 
 partners. 
 
 Ward stood up and let the rope trail forgotten from 
 his hands while he told Buck Olney all the things he 
 had brooded over in bitterness. He had meant to keep 
 it all down, but it was another instance of bottled emo- 
 tions, and Buck, with his offer of a fresh bit of treach- 
 ery, had pulled the cork. Ward trembled a little while 
 he talked, and his face grew paler and paler as he 
 dug deep into the blackest part of the past, until when 
 he finished he was a tanned white. He was shaking at 
 the last; shaking so that he staggered to the tree and 
 leaned against it weakly, while he fumbled for tobacco 
 and papers. 
 
 In the saddle Buck sat all hunched together as if
 
 " SO-LONG, BUCK! " 231 
 
 Ward had lashed him with rawhide instead of with 
 stinging words. The muscles of his face twitched spas- 
 modically. His eyes were growing bloodshot. 
 
 Ward spilled two papers of tobacco before he got a 
 cigarette rolled and lighted. He wondered a little at 
 the physical reaction from his outburst, but he won- 
 dered more at Buck Olney sitting alive and unhurt on 
 the horse before him a Seabeck horse which Ward 
 had seen Floyd Carson riding once or twice. He won- 
 dered what Floyd would do if he saw Buck now and 
 the use to which the horse was being put. 
 
 Ward finished the cigarette, rolled another, and 
 smoked that also before he could put his hand out 
 before him and hold it reasonably steady. When he 
 felt fairly sure of himself again, he lifted his hat to 
 wipe off the sweat of his anger, gave a big sigh, and 
 returned to the tying of the hangman's noose. 
 
 When he finally had it fixed the way he wanted it, 
 he went close and flung the noose over Buck Olney's 
 head. He could not trust himself to speak just then. 
 He cast an inquiring glance upward, took Buck's horse 
 by the bridle, and led him forward a few steps so that 
 Buck was directly under the overhanging limb. Then, 
 with the coil of Buck's rope in his hand, he turned back 
 and squirmed up the tree-trunk until he had reached 
 the limb. He crawled out until he was over Buck's 
 bullet-punctured hat-crown, sliced off what rope he 
 did not need, and flung it to the ground. He saw Buck 
 wince as the rope went past him. The pinto horse shied 
 out of position. 
 
 " Take the reins and bring him back here ! " Ward 
 called shortly, and gave a twitch of the rope as a hint.
 
 232 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Mechanically Buck obeyed. He did not know that 
 the rope was not yet tied to the limb. 
 
 Ward tied the rope securely, leaving enough slack 
 to keep Buck from choking prematurely. He fussed a 
 minute longer, with his lip curled into a grin of sar- 
 donic humor. Then he crawled back to the trunk of 
 the tree and slid down carefully so that he would not 
 frighten the pinto. 
 
 He went up and took the hobble off Buck Olney's 
 feet, felt in the seam of his coat-lapel, and pulled out 
 four pins, with which he fastened Buck's " pedigree " 
 between Buck's shrinking shoulder-blades. Then he 
 stood off and surveyed his work critically before he 
 went over to Rattler, who stood dozing in the sun- 
 shine. 
 
 " Sorry I can't stay to see you off," he told Buck 
 maliciously. " I 're decided to let you go alone and 
 take your own time about starting. As long as that 
 cayuse stands where he is, you 're safe as a church. 
 And you 've got the reins ; you can kick off any time 
 you feel like it. Sabe ? " He studied Buck's horror- 
 marked face pitilessly. 
 
 " You 've got about one chance in a million that you 
 can make that pinto stand there till someone comes 
 along," he pointed out impartially. " I 'm willing to 
 give you that chance, such as it is. And if you 're lucky 
 enough to win out on it well, I 'd advise you to do 
 some going ! South America is about as close as you '11 
 be safe. Folks around here are going to know all about 
 you, old-timer, whether they get to read what 's on your 
 back or not. 
 
 " And, on the other hand, it 's a million-to-one shot
 
 " SO-LONG, BUCK! " 233 
 
 you '11 land where your ticket reads. I 'd hate to gam- 
 ble on that horse standing in one spot for two or three 
 days, would n't you ? " He wheeled Rattler unob- 
 trusively, his eye on the pinto. " I hope he doji't try 
 to follow," he said. " I want you to have a little time 
 to think about the things I said to you. Well, so-long." 
 
 Ward rode back the way he had come, glancing fre- 
 quently over his shoulder at Buck, slumped in the sad- 
 dle with a paper pinned to his back like a fire-warning 
 on a tree, and his own grass rope noosed about his neck 
 and connecting him with the cottonwood limb six feet 
 above his hat crown. 
 
 Ward had not ridden a hundred yards before he 
 heard Buck Olney scream hysterically for help. He 
 grinned sourly with his eyebrows pinched together and 
 that hard, strained look in his eyes still. " Let him 
 holler awhile ! " he gritted. " Do him good, damn 
 him ! " 
 
 TJntil distance and the intervening hills set a wall 
 of silence between, Ward heard Buck screaming in fear 
 of death, screaming until he was so hoarse he could 
 only whisper ; screaming because he had not seen Ward 
 take his knife and slice the rope upon the limb so that 
 it would not have held the weight of a rabbit.
 
 s 
 CHAPTER XVIH 
 
 FORTUNE KICKS AGAIN 
 
 IT was past noon when Ward rode down the steep 
 slope to the creek bank just above his cabin. He 
 was sunk deep in that mental depression which so often 
 follows close upon the heels of a great outburst of pas- 
 sion. Mechanically he twitched the reins and sent Rat- 
 tler down the last shelf of bank and he did not look 
 up to see just where he was. Rattler was a well-trained 
 horse, since he was Ward's. He obeyed the rein signal 
 and stepped off a two-foot bank into a nest of loose- 
 piled rocks that slid treacherously under his feet. Sure- 
 footed though he was, he stumbled and fell ; and it was 
 sheer instinct that took Ward's feet from the stirrups 
 in time. 
 
 Ward sprawled among the rocks, dazed. The shock 
 of the fall took him out of his fit of abstraction, and 
 he pulled away from Rattler as the horse scrambled up 
 and stood shaking before him. He tried to scramble up 
 also. .- . . 
 
 Ward sat and stared stupidly at his left leg where, 
 midway between his knee and his foot, it turned out at 
 an unnatural angle. He thought resentfully that he 
 had had enough trouble for once, without having a 
 broken leg on top of it all. 
 
 " Now this is one hell of a fix !" he stated dispas-
 
 FORTUNE KICKS AGAIN 235 
 
 sionately, when pain had in a measure cooled his first 
 anger. He looked around him like a man who is taking 
 stock of his resources. He was not far from the cabin. 
 He could get there by crawling. But what then? 
 
 Ward looked at Rattler, standing docilely within 
 reach of his hand. He considered getting on if he 
 could, and riding well, the nearest place was fifteen 
 miles. And that was a good, long way from a doctor. 
 He glanced again at the cabin and tried to study .the 
 situation impersonally. If it were some other fellow, 
 now, what would Ward advise him to do under the 
 circumstances ? 
 
 He reached down and felt his leg gingerly. So far 
 as he could tell, it was a straight, simple break 
 snapped short off against a rock, he judged. He shook 
 his head over the thought of riding fifteen miles with 
 those broken bones grinding their edges together. And 
 still, what else could he do? 
 
 He reached out, took the reins, and led Rattler a step 
 nearer, so that he could grasp the stirrup. With his 
 voice he held the horse quiet while he pulled himself up- 
 right upon his good leg. Then, with pain-hurried, 
 jerky movements, he pulled off the saddle, glanced 
 around him, and flung it behind a buck-brush. He 
 slipped off the bridle, flung that after the saddle, and 
 gave Rattler a slap on the rump. The horse moved 
 away, and Ward stared after him with set lips. " Any- 
 way, you can look after yourself," he said and bal- 
 anced upon his right leg while he swung around and 
 faced the cabin. It was not far to a man with two 
 sound legs. A hundred yards, perhaps. 
 
 Ward crawled there on his hands and one knee, drag-
 
 236 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 ging the broken leg after him. It was not a nice ex- 
 perience, but it served one good purpose: It wiped 
 from his mind all thought of that black past wherein 
 Buck had figured so shamefully. He had enough to 
 think of with his present plight, without worrying over 
 the past. 
 
 In half an hour or so Ward rested his arms upon 
 his own doorstep and dropped his perspiring face upon 
 them. He lay there a long while, in a dead faint. 
 
 After awhile he moved, lifted his head, and looked 
 about him dully at first and then with a certain stoical 
 acceptance of his plight. He looked into the immediate 
 future and tried to forecast its demands upon his 
 strength and to prepare for them. He crawled farther 
 up on the step, reached the latch, and opened the door. 
 He crawled in, pulled himself up by the foot of his 
 bunk, and sat down weakly with his head in his hands. 
 Like a hurt animal, he had obeyed his instinct and had 
 crawled home. What next? 
 
 If Ward had been a weaker man, he would have 
 answered that question speedily with his gun. He did 
 think of it contemptuously as an easy way out. If he 
 had never met Billy Louise, he might possibly have 
 chosen that way. But Ward had changed much in 
 the past two years, and at the worst he had never been 
 a coward. His hurt was sending waves of nausea over 
 him, so that he could not concentrate his mind upon 
 anything. Then he thought of the bottle of whisky 
 he kept in his bunk for emergencies. Ward was not 
 a man who drank for pleasure, but he had the Western 
 man's faith in a good jolt of whisky when he felt a cold 
 coming on or a pain in his stomach or anything like
 
 FORTUNE KICKS AGAIN 237 
 
 that. He always kept a bottle on hand. A quart lasted 
 him a long time. 
 
 He felt along the footboard of the bunk till his fin- 
 gers touched the bottle, drew it out from its hiding- 
 place he hid it because stray callers would have made 
 short work of it and, placing the uncorked bottle to 
 his trembling lips, swallowed twice. 
 
 He was steadier now, and the sickness left him like 
 fog before a stiff breeze. His eyes went slowly around 
 the cabin, measuring his resources, and his needs and 
 limitations. He pulled his one chair toward him the 
 chair which Buck Olney had occupied so unwillingly 
 and placed his left knee upon it. It hurt terribly, but 
 the whisky had steadied him so that he could bear 
 the pain. He managed to reach the cupboard where 
 he kept his dishes, and took down a bottle of liniment 
 and a box of carbolized vaseline which he happened 
 to have. He was near the two big, zinc water pails 
 which he had filled that morning just to show Buck 
 Olney how cool he was over his capture, and he be- 
 thought him that water was going to be precious in 
 the next few weeks. 
 
 He lifted down one pail and swung it forward as 
 far as he could, and set it on the floor ahead of him. 
 Then he swung the other pail beside it. Painfully he 
 hitched his chair alongside, lifted the pails and set 
 them forward again. He did that twice and got them 
 beside his bunk. He went back and inspected the tea- 
 kettle, found it half full, and carried that also beside 
 the bunk. Then he took another drink of whisky and 
 rested awhile. 
 
 Bandages! Well, there was a new flour-sack hang-
 
 238 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 ing on a nail. He stood up, leaned and got it, and while 
 he was standing, he reached for the cigar-box where 
 he kept his bachelor sewing outfit; two spools of very 
 coarse thread, some large-eyed needles to carry it, an 
 assortment of buttons, and a pair of scissors. He cut 
 the flour-sack into strips and sewed the strips together ; 
 his stitches were neater than you might think. 
 
 When the bandage was long enough, he rolled it as 
 he had seen doctors do, and fished some pins out of 
 the cigar-box and laid them where he could get his 
 fingers on them quickly. He stood up again, reached 
 across to a box of canned milk, and pried off the lid. 
 " I 'm liable to need you, too," he muttered to the rows 
 of cans, and pulled the box close. He took Buck 
 Olney's knife and whittled some very creditable splints 
 from the thin boards, and rummaged in his " warbag " 
 under the bunk for handkerchiefs with which to wrap 
 the splints. 
 
 When he had done all that he could do to prepare 
 for the long siege of pain and helplessness ahead of 
 him, he moved along the bunk until he was sitting near 
 the head of it with his broken leg extended before him, 
 and took a last look to make sure that everything was 
 ready. He felt nis gun at his hip, removed belt and 
 all, and threw it back upon the bed. Then he turned 
 his head and stared, frowning, at the black butt where 
 it protruded from the holster suggestively ready to his 
 hand. He reached out and took the gun, turned it 
 over, and hesitated. !N~o telling what insane impulse 
 fever might bring upon him and still no telling 
 what Buck Olney might do when he discovered that 
 he was not in any immediate danger of hanging.
 
 FORTUNE KICKS AGAIN 239 
 
 If Buck came back to have it out with him, he 
 would certainly need that gun. He knew Buck; a 
 broken leg would n't save him. On the other hand, 
 if the fever of his hurt hit him hard enough " Oh, 
 fiddlesticks! " he told himself at last. " If I -get crazy 
 enough for that, the gun won't cut much ice one way 
 or the other. There are other ways of bumping off - 
 So he tucked the gun under the mattress at the head 
 of his bed where he could put his hand upon it if the 
 need came. 
 
 Then he removed his boots by the simple method of 
 slitting the legs with Buck's knife, bared his broken 
 leg in the same manner, swallowed again from the bot- 
 tle, braced himself mentally and physically, gritted 
 his teeth, and went doggedly to work. 
 
 A man never knows just how much he can endure 
 or what he can do until he is making his last stand 
 in the fight for self-preservation. Ward had no mind 
 to lie there and die of blood-poisoning, for instance; 
 and broken bones do not set themselves. So, sweating 
 and swearing with the agony of it, he set his leg and 
 bound the splints in place, and thanked the Lord it 
 was a straight, clean break and that the flesh was not 
 torn. 
 
 Then he dropped back upon the bed and did n't care 
 whether he lived or not. 
 
 Followed days of fever, - through which Ward lived 
 crazily and lost count of the hours as they passed. 
 Days when he needed good nursing, and did not get 
 so much as a drink of water, except through pain and 
 effort. Hours when he cursed Buck Olney and thought 
 he had him bound to the chair in the cabin. Hours
 
 240 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 when he watched for him, gun in hand, through the 
 window beside the bunk. 
 
 It was while he was staring glassy-eyed through the 
 window that his attention wandered to the big, white 
 bowl of stewed prunes. They looked good, with their 
 shiny, succulent plumpness standing up like little wrin- 
 kled islands in the small sea of brown juice. Ward 
 reached out with his left hand he was gripping the 
 gun in his right, ready for Buck when he showed up 
 and picked a prune out of the dish. It was his first 
 morsel of food since the morning when he had tried 
 to eat his breakfast while Buck Olney stared at him 
 with the furtive malevolence of a trapped animal. That 
 was three days ago. The prune tasted even better than 
 it looked. Ward picked out another and another. 
 
 He forgot his feverish hallucination that Buck Olney 
 was waiting outside there until he caught Ward off his 
 guard. He lay back on his pillow, his fingers relaxed 
 upon the gun. He closed his eyes and lay quiet. Per- 
 haps he slept a little. 
 
 When he opened his eyes he was in the dark. The 
 window was a transparent black square sprinkled with 
 stars. Ward watched them awhile. He thought of 
 Billy Louise; he would like to know how her mother 
 was getting along and how much longer they expected 
 to stay in Boise. He thought of the times she had 
 kissed him twice, and of her own accord. She would 
 not have done it, either time, if he had asked her; he 
 knew her well enough for that. She must be left free 
 to obey the impulses of that big, brave heart of hers. 
 A girl with a smaller soul and one less fine would have 
 blushed and simpered and acted the fool generally at
 
 the mere thought of kissing a man of her own accord. 
 Billy Louise had been tender as Christ Himself, and 
 as sweet and pure. Was there another girl like her 
 in the world? Ward looked at the stars and smiled. 
 There was never such another, he told himself. And 
 she " liked him to pieces " ; she had said so. Ward 
 laughed a little in spite of his throbbing leg." " Some 
 other girl would have said, ' Ward, I lo-ove you,' " he 
 grinned. " Wilhemina is different." 
 
 He lay there looking up at the stars and thinking, 
 thinking. Once his lips moved. He was saying 
 " Wilhemina-mine " softly to himself. His eyes, ' shin- 
 ing in the starlight, were very tender. After a long 
 while he fell asleep, still thinking of her. A late moon 
 came up and touched his face and showed it thin and 
 sunken-eyed, yet with the little smile hidden behind his 
 lips, for he was dreaming of Billy Louise. 
 
 Some time after daylight Ward woke and wanted a 
 cigarette, which was a sign that he was feeling a little 
 more like himself. He was feverish still, and the beat- 
 ing pain in his leg was. maddening. But his brain 
 was clear of fever-fog. He smoked a little of the 
 cigarette he made from the supply on the shelf behind 
 the bunk, and after that he looked about him for some- 
 thing to eat. 
 
 He had made a final trip to Hardup two weeks be- 
 fore, and had brought back supplies for the winter. 
 And because his pay streak of gravel-bank had yielded 
 a fair harvest, he had not stinted himself on the things 
 he liked to eat. He lay looking over the piled boxes 
 against the farther wall, and wondered if he could reach 
 the box of crackers and drag it up beside the bunk. He
 
 was weak, and to move his leg was agony. Well, there 
 was the dish of prunes on the window-sill. 
 
 Ward ate a dozen or so but he wanted the crack- 
 ers. He leaned as far as he could from the bed, and 
 the box was still two feet from his outstretched fingers. 
 He lay and considered how he might bring the box 
 within reach. 
 
 At the head of the bunk stood the case of peaches 
 and beneath that the case of canned tomatoes, the two 
 forming a stand for his lantern. He eyed them thought- 
 fully, chewing a corner of his underlip. He did not 
 want peaches or tomatoes just then; he wanted those 
 soda-crackers. 
 
 He took Buck Olney's knife he was finding it a 
 most useful souvenir of the encounter ! and pried off 
 a board from the peach box. Two nails stuck out 
 through each end of the board. He leaned again from 
 the bed, reached out with the board, and caught the 
 nails in a crack on the upper edge of the cracker-box. 
 He dragged the box toward him until it caught against 
 a ridge in the rough board floor, when the nails bent 
 outward and slipped away from the crack. Ward lay 
 back, exhausted with the effort he had made and tor- 
 mented with the pain in his leg. 
 
 After awhile he took the piece of board and managed 
 to slide it under the box, lifting a corner of it over 
 the ridge. That was hard work, harder than you would 
 believe unless you tried it yourself after lying three 
 days fasting, with a broken leg and a fever. He had 
 to rest again before he took the other end of the board, 
 that had the good nails, and pulled the box up beside 
 the bunk.
 
 FORTUNE KICKS AGAIN 243 
 
 In a few minutes he made another effort and pried 
 part of the cover off the cracker-box with the knife. 
 Then he pulled out half a dozen crackers and ate them, 
 drank half a dipper of water, and felt better. 
 
 In an hour or so he believed he could stand it to fix 
 up his leg a little. There was one splint that was poorly 
 wrapped, or something. It felt as though it were dig- 
 ging slivers into his leg, and he could n't stand it any 
 longer. 
 
 He pulled himself up until he was sitting with his 
 back against the wall at the head of his bunk and 
 smoked a cigarette before he went any farther. Then 
 he unwrapped the bandage carefully, removed the splint 
 that hurt the worst, and gently massaged the crease in 
 the bruised, swollen flesh where the narrow board had 
 pressed so cruelly. 
 
 The crease itched horribly, and it was too sore to 
 scratch. Ward cussed it and then got the carbolized 
 vaseline and rubbed that on, wincing at the pain of 
 his lightest touch. He did not hurry; he had all the 
 time there was, and it was a relief to get the bandage 
 off his leg for awhile. You may be sure he was very 
 careful not to move those broken bones a hair's breadth ! 
 
 He rubbed on the vaseline, fearing the liniment would 
 blister and increase his discomfort, and replaced splint 
 and bandage. He was terribly tired afterwards and 
 lay in a half stupor for a long while. He realized keenly 
 that he had a tough pull ahead of him, unless someone 
 chanced to ride that way and so discovered his plight ; 
 which was so unlikely that he did not build any hope? 
 upon it. 
 
 He had held himself aloof from the men of the
 
 244 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 country. He knew the Seabeck riders by sight ; he had 
 talked a little with Floyd Carson two or three times, 
 and had met Seabeck himself. He knew Charlie Fox 
 in a purely casual way, as has been related ; and Peter 
 Howling Dog the same. 
 
 None of these men were likely to ride out of their 
 way to see him. And now that his mind worked ra- 
 tionally, he had no fear of Buck Olney's vengeful 
 return. Buck Olney, he guessed shrewdly, was ex- 
 tremely busy just now, putting as many miles as pos- 
 sible between himself and that part of Idaho. Unless 
 Billy Louise should come or send for him, he would 
 in all probability lie alone there until he was able to 
 walk. Ward did not try to comfort himself with any 
 delusions of hope. 
 
 As the days passed, he settled himself grimly to the 
 business of getting through the ordeal as comfortably 
 as possible. He had food within his reach, and a scant 
 supply of water. He worked out the question of diet 
 and of using his resources to the best advantage. He 
 had nothing else to do, and his alert mind seized upon 
 the situation and brought it down to a fine system. 
 
 For instance, he did not open a can of fruit until 
 the prunes were gone. Then he emptied a can of toma- 
 toes into the bowl as a safeguard against ptomaine 
 poisoning from the tin, and set the empty can on the 
 floor. During the warm part of each day he slid open 
 the window by his bunk and lay with the fresh air fan- 
 ning his face and lifting the hair from his aching 
 temples. 
 
 He tried to eat regularly and to make the fruit juice 
 save his water supply. Sometimes he chewed jerked
 
 FORTUNE KICKS AGAIN 245 
 
 venison from the bag over his head, but not very often ; 
 the salt in the meat made him drink too much. On 
 the whole, his diet was healthful and in a measure satis- 
 fying. He did not suffer from the want of ajiy real 
 necessity, at any rate. He smoked a good many cig- 
 arettes, but he was wise enough to leave the bottle of 
 whisky alone after that first terrible time when it 
 helped him through a severe ordeal. 
 
 He had his few books within reach. He read a good 
 deal, to keep from thinking too much, and he tried 
 to meet the days with philosophic calm. He might 
 easily be a great deal worse off than he was, he fre- 
 quently reminded himself. For instance, if he had 
 been able to build another room on to his cabin, his 
 bunk and his food supply would have been so widely 
 separated as to cause him much hardship. There were, 
 he admittecf to himself, certain advantages in living in 
 one small room. He could lie in bed and reach nearly 
 everything he really needed. 
 
 But he was lonesome. So lonesome that there were 
 times when life looked absolutely worthless; when the 
 blue devils made him their plaything, and he saw Billy 
 Louise looking scornfully upon him and loving some 
 other man better; when he saw his name blackened by 
 the suspicion that he was a rustler preying upon his 
 neighbors' cattle; when he saw Buck Olney laughing 
 in derision of his mercy and fixing fresh evidence 
 against him to confound him utterly. 
 
 He had all those moods, and they left their own lines 
 upon his face. But he had one thing to hearten him, 
 and that was the steady progress of his broken leg 
 toward recovery. A long, tedious process it was, of
 
 246 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 necessity; but as nearly as he could judge, the bone 
 was knitting together and would be straight and strong 
 again, if he did not try to hurry it too much. He 
 tried to keep count of the weeks as they passed. When 
 the days slid behind him until he feared he could not 
 remember, he cut a little notch on the window-sill each 
 morning with Buck's knife, with every seventh day a 
 longer and deeper notch than the others to mark the 
 weeks. The first three days had been so hazy that he 
 thought them only two and marked them so; but that 
 put him only one day out of his reckoning. 
 
 He lay there and saw snow slither past his window, 
 driven by a whooping wind. It worried him to know 
 that his calves were unsheltered and unfed while his 
 long stack of hay stood untouched unless the cattle 
 broke down his fence and reached it. He hoped they 
 would; but he was a thorough workman, and in his 
 heart he knew that fence would stand. 
 
 He saw cold rains and sleet. Then there were days 
 when he shivered under his blankets and would have 
 given much for a cup of hot coffee; days when the 
 water froze in the pails beside the bed what little 
 water was left and he chipped off pieces of ice and 
 sucked them to quench his thirst. Days when the to- 
 matoes and peaches were frozen in the cans, so that 
 he chewed jerked venison and ate crackers rather than 
 chill his stomach with the icy stuff. 
 
 Day by day the little notches and the longer ones 
 reached farther and farther along the window-sill, until 
 Ward began to foresee the time when he must start 
 a new row. Day by day his cheek-bones grew more 
 clearly defined, his eyes bigger and more wistful. Day
 
 FORTUNE KICKS AGAIN 247 
 
 by day his knuckles stood up sharper when he closed 
 his hands, and day by day Mature worked upon his hurt, 
 knitting the bones together. 
 
 But, though he was lean to the point of being skinny, 
 his eyes were clear, and what little flesh he had was 
 healthy flesh. Though he was lonesome and hungry 
 for action and for sight of Billy Louise, his mind had 
 not grown morbid. He learned more of the Bobbie 
 Burns verses, and he could repeat The Rhyme of the 
 Three Sealers in his sleep, and most of The Lady of 
 the Lake. He used to lie and sing at the top of his voice, 
 sometimes : The Chisholm Trail unexpurgated 
 and Sam Bass and that doleful ditty about the Lone 
 Prairie, and quaint old Scottish songs he had heard his 
 mother sing, long and long ago. His leg would heal 
 of itself if he let it alone long enough, he reminded 
 himself often. His mind he must watch carefully, if 
 he would keep it healthy. He knew that, and each day 
 had its own little battle-ground. Sometimes he won, and 
 sometimes the fight went against him as is the way 
 with the world.
 
 CHAPTEE XIX 
 
 THE BBAVE BUCKAROO 
 
 " BOISE, IDAHO, December 23. 
 " BRAVE BUCKAEOO, 
 
 " I wonder if you ever in your whole life got a Christ- 
 mas present ? I Ve been cultivating the Louise of me, 
 and here are the first fruits of my endeavor; I guess 
 that 's the way they say it. I Ve spent so much time 
 sitting by mommie when she 's asleep, and I get tired 
 of reading all the time, so a nurse in this ward - 
 mommie has a room to herself of course, but not a spe- 
 cial nurse, because I can do a lot of the little things 
 well, the nurse taught me how to hemstitch. So I got 
 some silk and made some nice, soft neckerchiefs one 
 for you and one for me. 
 
 " This one I made last. I did n't want your eagle 
 eyes seeing all the bobbly stitches on the first one. I 
 hope you like it, Ward. Every stitch stands for 
 a thought of the hills and our good times. I Ve brought 
 Minervy back to life, and I try to play my old pre- 
 tends sometimes. But they always break up into pieces. 
 I 'm not a kid now, you see. And life is a lot dif- 
 ferent when you get out into it, is n't it ? 
 
 " Mommie does n't seem to get much better. I 'm 
 worried about her. She seems to have let go, some- 
 how. She never talks about the ranch much, or even
 
 THE BRAVE BUCKAROO 249 
 
 worries about whether Phoebe is keeping the windows 
 washed. She talks about when she was a little girl, 
 and about when she and daddy were first married. It 
 gets on my nerves to see how she has slipped out of 
 every-day life. The nurse says that 's common, though, 
 in sickness. She says I could go home and look after 
 things for a week or so just as well as not. She says 
 mommie would be all right. But I hate to leave her. 
 
 " I 'm awfully homesick for a good old ride on Blue. 
 I miss him terribly. Have you seen anything of the 
 Cove folks lately ? Seems like I 'm clear out of the 
 world. I hate town, anyway, and a hospital is the 
 limit for dismalness. Even the Louise of me is get- 
 ting, ready to do something awful if I have to stay much 
 longer. Mommie sleeps most of the time. I believe 
 they dope her with something. She does n't have that 
 awful pain so bad. So I don't have anything to do but 
 sit around and read and sew and wait for her to wake 
 up and want something. 
 
 " Pal, the Billy of me is at the exploding point ! I 
 believe I '11 wind up by getting out in the corridor some 
 day and shooting holes in all the steam radiators ! Did 
 you ever live with one, Ward ? Nasty, sizzly things ; 
 they drive me wild. I 'd give the best cow in the bunch 
 for just one hour in front of our old stone fireplace 
 and see the sparks go up the chimney, and hear the 
 coyotes. Honest to goodness, I 'd rather hear a coyote 
 howl than any music on earth unless maybe it was 
 you singing a ten-dollar hoss an' a forty:dollar saddle. 
 I 'd like to hear that old trail song once more. I sure 
 would, Ward. I 'd like to hear it, coming down old 
 Wolverine canyon. Oh, I just can't stand it much
 
 250 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 longer. I 'm liable to wrap mommie in a blanket and 
 crawl out the window, some night, and hit the trail 
 for home. I believe I could cure her quicker right 
 on the ranch. I wish I 'd never brought her here ; I 
 believe it 's just a scheme of the doctors to get money 
 out of us. I know my poultices did just as much good 
 as their old dope does. 
 
 " And this is Christmas, almost. I wonder what 
 you '11 be doing. Say, Ward, if you want to be a per- 
 fect jewel of a man, send me some of that jerky you 've 
 got hanging at the head of your bunk. I swiped some, 
 that last time I was there. It would taste mighty good 
 to me now, after all these hospital slops. 
 
 " And write me a nice, long letter, won't you ? That 's 
 a good buckaroo. I 've got to stop mommie is be- 
 ginning to wake up, and it 's time for the doctor to 
 come in and read the chart and look wise and say: 
 1 Well, how are we to-day ? Pretty bright, eh ? ' I 'd 
 like to kick him clear across the corridor that is, the 
 Billy of me would. And believe me, the Billy of me 
 is sure going to break out, some of these days! 
 
 " I hope you like the neckerchief. I want you to 
 wear it ; if I come home and find it has n't been washed 
 a couple of times, there '11 be something doing ! Don't 
 rub soap on it, kid. Make a warm lathery suds and 
 wash it. And don't wave it by the corners till it dries. 
 Hang it up somewhere. You '11 have my stitches look- 
 ing worse frazzled than my temper. 
 
 " Well, a merry Christmas, Pal-o'-mine and here 's 
 hoping you and mommie and I will be eating turkey 
 together at the Wolverine when next Christmas comes, 
 JSummy-num! Wouldn't that taste good, though?
 
 THE BRAVE BUCKAROO 251 
 
 " Now remember and write a whole tablet full to 
 " WILLIAM LOUISA, 
 
 " WlLHEMINA, 
 
 " BILL-LOO, 
 
 " BlLL-THE-CoNK, 
 
 " BILLY LOUISE, 
 
 " FLOWER OF THE RANCII-OH." 
 
 Phoebe put that letter on the mantel over the fireplace, 
 the day after Christmas. Frequently she felt its puffy 
 softness and its crackly crispness acd wondered dully 
 what Billy Louise had sent to Ward. 
 
 Billy Louise refrained from expecting any reply un- 
 til after New Year's. Then she began to look for a 
 letter, and when the days passed and brought her no 
 word, her moods changed oftener than the weather. 
 
 Ward's literary eiforts, along about that time, con- 
 sisted of cutting notches in the window-sill beside his 
 bunk. 
 
 On the day when the stage-driver gave Billy Louise's 
 letter to Phoebe, Ward cut a deeper, wider notch, think- 
 ing that day was Christmas. Under the notch he 
 scratched a word with the point of his knife. It had 
 four letters, and it told eloquently of the state of mind 
 he was in. 
 
 It was the day after that when Seabeck and one of 
 his men rode up the creek and out into the field where 
 Ward's cattle grazed apathetically on the little grass 
 tufts that stuck up out of the snow. Ward was read- 
 ing, and so did not see them until he raised himself up 
 to make a cigarette and saw them going straight across 
 the coulee by the line fence to the farther hills. He
 
 252 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 opened the window and shouted after them, but the 
 wind was blowing keen from that direction, and they 
 did not hear him. 
 
 Seabeck had been studying brands and counting, and 
 he was telling Floyd Carson that everything was straight 
 as a string. 
 
 " He must be out working this winter. I should 
 think he 'd stay home and feed these calves. The cows 
 are looking pretty thin. I guess he is n't much of a 
 stock hand ; these nesters are n't, as a general thing, 
 and if it 's, as Junkins says, and he puts all he makes 
 into this place, he 's likely hard up. Mighty nice little 
 ranch he 's got. Well, let 's work over the divide and 
 back that way. I did n't think we 'd find anything 
 here." 
 
 They turned and angled up the steep hillside, and 
 Ward watched them glumly. He thought he knew why 
 they were prowling around the place, but it seemed to 
 him that they might have stretched their curiosity a 
 little farther and investigated the cabin. He did not 
 know that the snow of a week ago was banked over 
 the doorstep with a sharp, crusty combing at the top, 
 to prove that the door had not been opened for some 
 time. Nor did he know that the two had ridden past 
 the cabin on the other side of the creek and had seen 
 how deserted the place looked ; had ridden to the stable, 
 noted there the unmistakable and permanent air of 
 emptiness, and had gone on. 
 
 Floyd Carson alone might have prowled through both 
 buildings, but Seabeck was a slow-going man of sober 
 justice. He would not invade the premises of another 
 farther than he thought it necessary. He had heard
 
 THE BRAVE BUCKAROO 253 
 
 whispers that the fellow on Mill Creek might bear in- 
 vestigation, and he had investigated. There was not 
 a shadow of evidence that the Y6 cattle had been got- 
 ten dishonestly. Therefore, Seabeck rode away and did 
 not look into the snow-banked cabin, as another man 
 might have done; and Ward missed his one chance of 
 getting help from the outside. 
 
 Of course, he was doing pretty well as it was ; but he 
 would have welcomed the chance to talk to someone. 
 Taciturn as Ward was with men, he had enough of his 
 own company for once. And he would have asked them 
 to make him a cup of coffee and warm up the cabin 
 once more. Little comforts of that sort he missed ter- 
 ribly. If the room had not been so clammy cold, he 
 could have sat up part of the time, now. As it was, 
 he stayed in bed to keep warm; and even so he had 
 been compelled to drag the two wolf-skins off the floor 
 and upon the bed to keep from shivering through the 
 coldest nights and days. ' 
 
 One day he did crawl out of bed and try to get over 
 to the stove to start a fire. But he was so N weak that 
 he gave it up and crawled back again, telling himself 
 that it was not worth the effort. 
 
 The letter with the silk neckerchief inside gath- 
 ered dust upon the mantel, down at the Wolverine. 
 When the postmark was more than two weeks old, an- 
 other letter came, and Phoebe laid it on the fat one 
 with fingers that trembled a little. Phosbe had a letter 
 of her own, that day* Both were thin, and the ad- 
 dresses were more scrawly than usual. Phoebe's Indian 
 instinct warned her that something was amiss. 
 
 This was Ward's letter :
 
 254 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " Oh, God, Ward, mommie's dead. She died last 
 night. I thought she was asleep till the nurse came in 
 at five o'clock. I 'm all alone and I don't know what 
 to do. I wish you could come, but if you don't get 
 this right away, I '11 see you at the ranch. I 'm com- 
 ing home as soon as I can. Oh, Ward, I hate life and 
 God and everything. BILLY LOUISE." 
 
 " Please Ward, stay at the ranch till I come. I want 
 to see you. I feel as if you 're the only friend I 've 
 got left, now mommie 's gone. She looked so peaceful 
 when they took her away and so strange. I did n't 
 belong to her any more. I felt as if I did n't know 
 her at all and there is such an awful gap in my 
 life maybe you '11 understand. You always do." 
 
 The day that letter was written, Ward drew a plan 
 of the house he meant to build some day, with a wide 
 porch on the front, where a hammock would swing com- 
 fortably. He figured upon lumber and shingles and 
 rock foundation, and mortar for a big, deep fireplace. 
 He managed to put in the whole forenoon planning and 
 making estimates, and he was so cheerful afterwards 
 that he whistled and sang, and later he tied a piece of 
 jerky on the end of a string and teased a fat field- 
 mouse, whose hunger made him venturesome. Ward 
 would throw the jerky as far as the string would per- 
 mit and wait till 'the mouse came out to nibble at it; 
 then he would pull the meat closer and closer to the 
 bed and laugh at the very evident perturbation of the 
 mouse. For the time being he was a boy indulging his 
 love of teasing something. 
 
 And while Ward played with that mouse, Billy
 
 THE BRAVE BUCKAROO 255 
 
 Louise was longing for his comforting presence while 
 she faced alone one of the bitterest things in life 
 which is death. He had no presentiment of her need 
 of him, which was just as well, since he was abso- 
 lutely powerless to help her.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 BILLY LOUISE, having arrived unexpectedly on 
 the stage, pulled off her fur-lined mittens and put 
 her chilled hands before the snapping blaze in the fire- 
 place. Her eyes were tired and sunken, and her mouth 
 drooped pitifully at the corners, but aside from that 
 she did not seem much changed from the girl who had 
 left the ranch two months and more before. 
 
 " I '11 take a cup of tea, Phoebe, but I 'm not a bit 
 hungry," she said. " I ate just before I left town. 
 How have you been, Phoebe ? " 
 
 " We been fine. We been so sorry for you " 
 
 " Never mind that now, Phoebe. I 'd rather not talk 
 about it. Has anybody been here lately ? " 
 
 " Charlie Fox, he come las' week mebby week be- 
 fore las'. Marthy, she got rheumatis in her knee. 
 Charlie, he say she been pr*etty bad one night. I guess 
 she 's better now. I tol' I wash for her if he brings 
 me clo'es, but he says he wash them clo'es hisself. I 
 guess Charlie pretty good to that old lady. He 's awful 
 p'lite, that feller is." 
 
 " Yes, he is. I '11 go up and see her when I get 
 rested a little. I feel tired to death, somehow; maybe 
 it 's the drive. The road is terribly rough, and it 
 was awful tiresome on the train. Has Ward been 
 around lately ? "
 
 ' WE BEEN SORRY FOR YOU " 257 
 
 " Ward, he ain't been here for long time. I guess 
 mebbe it 's been six weeks I ain't seen him. Las' 
 time he was here he wrote that letter. He ain't come 
 no more. You let me drag this couch up to the fire, 
 and you lay down and rest yo'self. I '11 put on more 
 wood. Seems like this is awful cold winter. We had 
 six little pigs come, and four of 'em froze. John, 
 he brung 'em in by the fire, but it 's no good ; they _die, 
 anyway." 
 
 Billy Louise dropped apathetically upon the couch 
 after Phoebe had helped her pull off her coat. She did 
 not feel as though anything mattered much, but she must 
 go on with life, no matter how purposeless it seemed. 
 To live awhile and work and struggle and know the 
 pain of disappointment and weariness, and then to die : 
 she did not see what use there was in struggling. But 
 one had to go on just the same. She had borrowed 
 money for mommie's sickness, and she would have to 
 repay it ; apd it was all so purposeless ! 
 
 " How are the cattle wintering ? " She forced her- 
 self to make some show of interest in things. 
 
 " The cattle, they 're doing all right. One heifer, 
 she got blackleg and die, but the rest they 're all right. 
 John, he could n't find all ; two or three, they 're gone. 
 He says mebby them rustlers got 'em. He looked good 
 as he could." 
 
 " Are has there been any more trouble about losing 
 stock ? " Billy Louise shut her hand into a fist, but she 
 spoke in the same tired tone as before. 
 
 " I dunno. Seabeck, he told John they don't catch 
 nobody yet. That inspector, he come by long time ago. 
 I guess he stopped with Seabeck. He ain't come back
 
 258 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 yet. I dunno where he 's gone. Seabeck, he did n't say 
 nothing to John about him, I guess. Maybe he went 
 out the other way." 
 
 "I did you do what I told you, Phoebe, about 
 mommie's things ? " 
 
 For once Phoebe did not answer garrulously. " Yes, 
 I done it," she said softly. " The boxes is in the shed 
 when you want 'em." 
 
 " All right, Phoebe. Is the tea ready ? " 
 
 While she sipped creamy tea from a solid-silver 
 teaspoon which had been a part of mommie's wedding- 
 set, Billy Louise looked around the familiar room for 
 which she had hungered so in those deadly, monotonous 
 weeks at the hospital. The fire snapped in its stone 
 recess, and the cheerful warmth of it comforted her 
 body and in a measure soothed her spirit. She was 
 chilled to the bones with facing that bitter east wind 
 for hours, and she had not seen a fireplace in all the 
 time she had been away. 
 
 But the place was empty, with no mommie fussing 
 about, worrying over little things, gently garrulous. If 
 mommie had come back well, she would have asked 
 Phoebe about everything in the house and out of it. 
 There would have been a housewifely accounting going 
 on at this minute. Phoebe would be apologetic over 
 those grimy windows, instead of merely sympathetic 
 over the sorrow in the house. Billy Louise wondered 
 wherein she lacked. For the life of her she could 
 not feel that it mattered whether the windows were 
 clean or dirty ; life was drab and cheerless outside them, 
 anyway. 
 
 Billy Louise in the last few months had tried to
 
 " WE BEEN SORRY FOR YOU " 259 
 
 picture herself alone, with mommie gone. Her imagi- 
 nation was too alive and saw too clearly the possibili- 
 ties for her never to have dwelt upon this very crisis 
 in her life. But whenever she had tried to think what 
 it would be like, she had always pictured Ward beside 
 her, shielding her from dreary details and lightening 
 her burden with his whimsical gentleness. She had 
 felt sure that Ward would ride down every week for 
 news of her, and she had expected to find him there 
 waiting for her, after that last letter. Whatever could 
 be the matter? Had he left the country? 
 
 Billy Louise's faith had compromised definitely with 
 her doubts of him. Guilty or innocent, she would be 
 his friend always; that was the condition her faith 
 had laid down challengingly before her doubts. But 
 unless he were innocent and proved it to her, she would 
 never marry him, no matter how much she loved him. 
 That was the concession her faith had made to her 
 doubts. 
 
 Billy Louise had a wise little brain, for all she ideal- 
 ized life and her surroundings out of all proportion 
 to reality. She told herself that if she married Ward 
 with her doubts alive, her misery would be far greater 
 than if she gave him up, except as a friend. Of course, 
 her ideals stepped in there with an impracticable com- 
 promise. She brought back the Ward Warren of her 
 " pretend " life. She dreamed of him as a mutely 
 adoring friend who stood and worshiped her from afar, 
 and because of his sins could not cross the. line of 
 friendship. 
 
 If he were a rustler, she would shield him and save 
 him, if that were possible. He would love her always
 
 260 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Billy Louise could not conceive of Ward transferring 
 his affections to another less exacting woman and he 
 would be grateful for her friendship. She could build 
 long, lovely scenes where friendliness was put to the 
 front bravely, while love hid behind the mask and only 
 peeped out through the eyes now and then. She did 
 not, of course, plan all this in sober reason; she just 
 dreamed it with her eyes open. 
 
 It had been in such a spirit that she had written to 
 Ward; 'though he would undoubtedly have read love 
 into the lines and so have been encouraged in the plan- 
 ning of that house with the wide porch in front ! She 
 had dreamed all the way home of seeing Ward at the 
 end of the journey. Perhaps he would come out and 
 help her down from the stage, when it stopped at the 
 gate, and call her Bill-Loo never once had Ward 
 spoken her name as others spoke it, but always with 
 a twist of his own which made it different, stamped 
 with his own individuality and he would walk be- 
 side her to the house and comfort her with his eyes, 
 and never mention mommie till she herself opened the 
 way to her grief. Then he would call her Wilhemina- 
 mine in that kissing way he had 
 
 Someone came upon the doorstep and stood there for 
 a moment, stamping snow off his feet. Billy Louise 
 caught her breath and waited, her eyes veiled with her 
 lashes and shining expectantly. A little color came 
 into her cheeks. Ward had been delayed somehow, but 
 he was ^ coming now because she needed him and he 
 wanted her 
 
 It was only John Pringle, heavy-bodied, heavy- 
 minded, who came in and squeaked the door shut
 
 " WE BEEN SORRY FOR YOU ' 261 
 
 behind him. Billy Louise gave him a glance and 
 dropped her head back on the red cushion. " Hello, 
 John ! " she greeted tonelessly. 
 
 John grinned, embarrassed between his pleasure at 
 seeing Billy Louise and his pity for her trouble. His 
 white teeth showed a little under his scraggy, breath- 
 frosted mustache. 
 
 " Hello ! You got back, hey ? She 's purty cold 
 again. Seems like it 's goin' storm some more." He 
 pulled off his mittens and. tugged at the ice dangling 
 at the corners of his lips. " You come on stage, hey ? 
 I bet you freeze." He went over and stood with his 
 back to the fire, his leathery brown hands clasped be- 
 hind him, his face still undecided as to the most suit- 
 able emotion to reveal. " Well, how you like town, 
 hey? No good, I guess. You got plenty trouble now. 
 Phoebe and me, we stick by you long as you want 
 us to." 
 
 " I know you will, John." Billy Louise bit her lips 
 against a sudden impulse to tears. It was not Ward, 
 but the crude sympathy of this old halfbreed was more 
 to her than all the expensive flowers that had been 
 stacked upon mommie's coffin. She had felt terribly 
 alone in Boise. But her chilled soul was beginning to 
 feel the warmth of friendship in these two half-savage 
 servants. Even without Ward, her home-coming was 
 not absolutely cheerless, after all. 
 
 " Well, we make out to keep things going," John 
 announced pridefully. " We got leetle bad luck, not 
 much. One heifer, she die blackleg. Four pigs, 
 they froze leetle fellers. I save the rest, all right. 
 Ole Mooley, she goin' have a calf purty queeck now. I
 
 262 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 got her in leetle shed by hog-pen. Looks like it storm, 
 all right" 
 
 " Felt like it, too." Billy Louise made an effort 
 to get back into the old channels of thought. " We '11 
 milk old Mooley, John; I feel as if I could live on 
 cream and milk for the next five years. You ought 
 to see the watery stuff they call milk in Boise ! Star 
 must be pretty near dry now, is n't she ? " 
 
 " Purty near." John's voice was beginning to ooze 
 the comfort that warmth was giving his big body. 
 " She give two quart, mebby. Spot, she give leetle 
 more. I got that white hog fat. I kill him any time 
 now you say." 
 
 " If it does n't storm, you might kill him to-morrow 
 or next day, John. I '11 take a roast up to Marthy 
 when I go. I '11 go in a day or two." She glanced 
 toward the kitchen end of the long room. Phoebe was 
 busy in the pantry with the door shut. " Have you 
 seen or heard anything of Ward lately ? " she asked 
 carelessly. 
 
 " No. I ain't seen Ward for long time. I thought 
 mebbe he be down long time ago. He ain't come." 
 John shifted a little farther from the blaze and stood 
 teetering comfortably upon the balls of his feet, like a 
 bear. " Mebbe he 's gone out other way to work." 
 
 " Did he say anything ? " 
 
 " No, he don't say nothin' las' time he come. 
 That 's " John rolled his black eyes seekingly at 
 the farther wall while he counted mentally the weeks. 
 " I guess that mus' be fo' or five weeks now. Charlie 
 Fox, he come las' week." 
 
 " John, you better kill a chicken for Billy Louise.
 
 ' WE BEEX SORRY FOR YOU ' 263 
 
 I bet she ain't had no chicken since she 's gone." Phoebe 
 came from the pantry with her hands all flour. " You 
 go now. That young speckled rooster be good, 
 mebby. He's fat. He's fightin' all the chickens, anj- 
 way." 
 
 " All right. I kill him." John answered with re- 
 markable docility. Usually he growled at poor Phoebe 
 and objected to everything she suggested. 
 
 His ready compliance touched Billy Louise more 
 than anything since her return. She felt anew the 
 warm comfort of their sympathy. If only Ward had 
 been there also! She got up from the couch and went 
 to the window where she could look across at the bleak 
 hilltop. She stood there for some minutes looking 
 out wistfully, hoping that she would see him ride into 
 view at the top of the steep trail. After awhile she 
 went back and curled up on the wide old couch and 
 stared abstractedly into the fire. 
 
 John had gone out after the young speckled rooster 
 that fought the other chickens and must now do his part 
 toward salving the hurt and cheering the home-coming 
 of Billy Louise. John returned, mumbled with Phoebe 
 at the far end of the room, and went out again. Phoebe 
 worked silently and briskly, rattling pans now and then 
 and lifting the stove lids to put in more wood. Billy 
 Louise heard the sounds but dimly. The fire was filled 
 with pictures; her thoughts were wandering here and 
 there, bridging the gap between the past and the misty 
 future. After awhile the savory odor of the young 
 speckled rooster, that had fought all the other chickens 
 but was now stewing in a mottled blue-and-white gran- 
 ite pan, smote her nostrils and won her thoughts from
 
 dreaming. She sat up and pushed back her hair like 
 one just waking from sleep. 
 
 " I '11 set the table, Phoebe, when you 're ready," she 
 said, and her voice sounded less strained and tired. 
 " That chicken sure does smell good ! " She rose and 
 busied herself about the room, setting things in order 
 upon the reading-table and the shelves. Phoebe was 
 good as gold, but her housekeeping was a trifle sketchy. 
 
 " Ward, he borried some books las' time," Phoebe 
 remarked, lifting the lid of the stew kettle and letting 
 out a cloud of delicious-smelling steam. " I dunno 
 what they was. He said he 'd bring 'em back nex' time 
 he come." 
 
 " Oh, all right," said Billy Louise, and smiled a 
 little. Even so slight a thing as borrowed books made 
 another link between them. For a girl who means 
 to be a mere friend to a man, Billy Louise harbored 
 some rather dangerous emotions. 
 
 She picked up the two letters she had written Ward, 
 brushed off the dust, and eyed them hesitatingly. It 
 certainly was queer that Ward had not ridden down 
 for some word from her. She hesitated, then threw 
 the thin letter into the fire. Its message was no longer 
 of urgent, poignant need. Billy Louise drew a long- 
 breath when the grief-laden lines crumbled quickly and 
 went flying up the wide throat of the chimney. The 
 other letter she pinched between her thumbs and fin- 
 gers. She smiled a little to herself. Ward would like 
 to get that. She had a swift vision of him standing 
 over there by the window and reading it with those 
 swift, shuttling glances, holding the handkerchief 
 squeezed up in his hand the while. She remembered
 
 ' WE BEEN SORRY FOR YOU " 265 
 
 how she had begun it " Brave Buckaroo " and her 
 cheeks turned pink. He should have it when he came. 
 Something had kept him away. He would come just 
 as soon as he could. She laid the letter back upon 
 the mantel and set a china cow on it to keep it safe 
 there. Then she turned brightly and began to set the 
 table for Phoebe and John and herself, and came near 
 setting a fourth place for Ward, she was so sure he 
 would come as soon as he could. Mommie used to 
 say that if you set a place for a person, that person 
 would come and eat with you, in spirit if not in reality. 
 Phoebe glanced at her pityingly when she saw her 
 hesitating, with the fourth plate in her hands. Phoebe 
 thought that Billy Louise had unconsciously brought 
 it for mommie. Phoebe did not know that love is 
 stronger even than grief; for at that moment Billy 
 Louise was not thinking of mommie at all.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 SEVEN LEAN KINE 
 
 ND you looked good, all up above here ? " Billy 
 Louise held Blue firmly to a curved-neck, cir-~ 
 cling stand, while she had a last word with John before 
 she went off on one of her long rides. 
 
 " All up in the hills, and round over by Cedar Creek, 
 and "all over." John's mittened gesture was even more 
 sweeping than his statement. " I guess mebby them 
 rustlers git 'em." 
 
 " Well, I 'm going up to the Cove. I may not be 
 back before dark, so don't worry if I 'm . late. Maybe 
 I '11 look along the river. I know one place where I 
 believe cattle can get down to the bottom, if they 're 
 crazy enough to try it. You didn't look there, did 
 you?" 
 
 " No, I never looked down there. I know they can't 
 git down nohow." 
 
 " Well, all right ; maybe they can't." Billy Louise 
 slackened the reins, and Blue went off with short, 
 stiff-legged jumps. It had been a long time since he 
 had felt the weight of his lady, and his mood now 
 was exuberant, especially so, since the morning was 
 clear, with a nip of frost to tingle the skin and the 
 glow of the sun to promise falsely the nearness of 
 spring. The hill trail steadied him a little, though
 
 SEVEN LEAN KINE 267 
 
 he went up the steepest pitch with rabbit- jumps and 
 teetered on his toes the rest of the way. 
 
 Billy Louise laughed a little, leaned, and grabbed a 
 handful of slatey mane. " Oh, you Blue-dog!" she 
 said, for that was his full name. " Life is livable, 
 after all, as long as a fellow has got you and can 
 ride. You good-for-nothing old ten-dollar hoss ! I 
 wonder would it be wicked to sing? What do you 
 think, Blue ? You 'd sing, I know, at the top of your 
 voice, if you could. Say, Blue! Don't you wish you 
 were a donkey, so you could stick out your neck and 
 go Fee-ee-haw! Fee-ee-haw? Try it once. I believe 
 you could. It 's that or a run, one or the other. You '11 
 bust, if you don't do something. I know you ! " 
 
 At last on the high level, seeing Blue could not bray 
 his joy to the world, Billy Louise let him go. She 
 needed some outlet, herself, after those horrible, dull 
 weeks weighted with tragedy. She had been raised on 
 horseback, almost; and for two terrible months she 
 had not been in the saddle. And there is nothing 
 like the air of the Idaho hills to stir one's blood and 
 send it singing. 
 
 Through the sagebrush and rocks, weaving in and 
 out, slacking speed a little while he went down into 
 deep gullies, thundering up the other side, and racing 
 away over the level again, went Blue. And with him, 
 laughing, tingling with new life, growing pinker- 
 cheeked every minute, went Billy Louise. Her mother's 
 death did not oppress her then. She thought of her 
 as she raced, but she thought of her with a little, tender 
 smile. Her mother was resting peacefully, and there
 
 268 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 was no more pain or worry for the little, pale, frail 
 woman who had lived her life and gone her way. 
 
 " Dear old mommie ! " said Billy Louise under her 
 breath. " Your kid is almost as happy as you are, 
 right now. Don't be shocked, there 's a dear, or think 
 I 'm going to break my neck. Blue and I have just 
 simply got to work off steam. You, Blue ! " She leaned 
 another inch forward. 
 
 Blue threw up his head, lifted his heels, and ran 
 like a scared jackrabbit over the uneven ground. They 
 were not keeping to the trail at all; trails were too 
 tame for them in that mood. They ran along the rim- 
 rock at the last, where Billy Louise could glance down, 
 now and then, at the river sliding like a bright-blue rib- 
 bon with icy edges through the gray, snow-spotted hills. 
 
 " Hold on, Blue ! " Billy Louise pulled up on the 
 reins. " Quit it, you old devil ! A mile ought to 
 be enough for once, I should think. There 's cattle 
 down there in that bottom, sure as you live. And we, 
 my dear sir, are going down there and take a look at 
 them." She managed to pull Blue down to stiff-legged 
 jumps and then to a walk. Finally she stopped him, 
 so that she could the better take in her surroundings 
 and the possibilities of getting down. 
 
 In the country it is as in the cities. One forms 
 habits of journeying. One becomes perfectly familiar 
 with every hill and every little hollow in certain direc- 
 tions, while some other, closer part remains practically 
 unexplored. Billy Louise had always loved the Wol- 
 verine canyon, and its brother, Jones canyon, which 
 branched off from the first. As a child she had ex- 
 plored every foot of both, and had ridden the hills
 
 SEVEN LEAN KINE 269 
 
 beyond. As a young woman she had kept to the old 
 playground. Her cattle ranged at the head of the 
 canyons. 
 
 The river bottoms came as near being unknown ter- 
 ritory as she could have found within forty miles of 
 her home. For one thing, the river bottom was nar- 
 row, except where was the Cove, and pinched in places 
 till there seemed no way of passing from one to .an- 
 other. Little pockets there were, tucked away under the 
 rocky bluff with its collar of " rim-rock " above. One 
 might climb down afoot, but Billy Louise was true to 
 her range breeding; she never went anywhere afoot if 
 she could possibly get there on a horse. And down there 
 by the river she never had happened to find it neces- 
 sary to go, either afoot or a-horseback. Still, if cattle 
 could get down there 
 
 " I guess we '11 have to ride back a way," she said, 
 after a brief inspection, during* which Blue stood so 
 close to the rim that Billy Louise must have had a clear 
 head to feel no tremor of nerves or dizziness. 
 
 She turned and rode slowly back along the edge, 
 looking for the place where she 'believed cattle could 
 get down if they were crazy enough to try. 
 
 " Don't look very encouraging, does it, Blue ? " Billy 
 Louise stared doubtfully at the place, leaning and peer- 
 ing over the rim. " What d 'ye think ? Reckon we can 
 make it ? " 
 
 Blue had caught sight of the moving specks far down 
 next the river and up the stream half a mile or more. 
 He was a cow-horse to the bone. He knew those far- 
 off specks for cattle, and he knew that his lady would 
 like a closer look at them. That 's what cattle were
 
 270 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 made for: to haze out of brush and rocks and gullies 
 and drive somewhere. So far as Blue knew, cattle were 
 a game. You hunted them out of ungodly places, and 
 the game was to make them go somewhere else against 
 their wishes. He prided himself on being able to play 
 that game, no matter what were the odds against him. 
 
 Now he tilted his head a little and looked down at 
 the bluff beneath him. The game was beginning. He 
 must get down that bluff and overtake those specks and 
 drive them somewhere. He glanced up and down the 
 bluff to see if a better trail offered. Billy Louise 
 laughed understandingly. 
 
 " It 's this or nothing, Blue. Looks pretty fierce, all 
 right, does n't it ? Of course, if you 're going to make 
 a perfect lady get off and walk " 
 
 Blue snuffed at the ledge with his neck craned. The 
 rim-rock had crumbled and sunk low into the bluff, 
 like a too rich pie-crust when the oven is not quite hot 
 enough. From a ten- or fifteen-foot wall it shrunk 
 here to a three-foot ledge. And below the rocks and 
 bowlders were not actually piled on top of one another ; 
 there were clear spaces where a wary, wise, old cow- 
 horse might possibly pick his way. 
 
 Blue chose his trail and crumpled at the knees with 
 his hoofs on the very edge of the ledge; went down 
 with a cat-jump and landed with all four feet planted 
 close together. He had no mind to go on sliding in 
 spite of himself, and the bluff was certainly steep 
 enough to excuse a bungle. 
 
 " So far so good." Billy Louise glanced ruefully 
 back at the ledge. " We 're down ; but how the deuce 
 do you reckon we '11 get up again ? "
 
 SEVEN LEAN KINE 271 
 
 Blue was not worrying about that part. He went 
 on, picking his way carefully among the bowlders, with 
 his nose close to earth, setting his hindlegs stiffly and 
 tobogganing down loose, shale slopes. Billy Louise 
 sat easily in the saddle and enjoyed it all. She was 
 making up in big doses for the drab dullness of those 
 hospital weeks. She ought to walk down the bluff, 
 for this was dangerous play; but she craved danger ^as 
 an antidote to that shut-in life of petty rules and regu- 
 lations. 
 
 It was with a distinct air of triumph that Blue 
 reached the bottom, even though he slid the last forty 
 feet on his haunches and landed belly-deep in a soft 
 snow-bank. It was with triumph to match his perky 
 ears that Billy Louise leaned and slapped him on the 
 neck. " "We made it ! " she cried, " and I did n't have 
 to walk a step, did I, Blue ? You 're there with the 
 goods, all right ! " 
 
 Blue scrambled out of the bank to firm footing on 
 the ripened grass of the bottom, and with a toss of his 
 head set off in a swinging lope, swerving now and 
 then to avoid a badger hole or a half-sunken rock. They 
 had done something new, those two; they had reached 
 a place where neither had ever been before, and Blue 
 acted as if he knew it and gloried in the escapade quite 
 as much as did his lady. 
 
 The cattle spied them and went trotting away up the 
 river, and Blue quickened his stride a little and fol- 
 lowed after. Billy Louise left the reins loose upon his 
 neck. Blue could handle cattle alone quite as skillfully 
 as with a rider, if he chose. 
 
 The cattle dodged into a fringe of bushes close to
 
 272 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 the river and disappeared, which was queer, since the 
 bluff curved in close to the bank at that point. Blue 
 pricked up his ears and went clattering after, slowed 
 a little at the willow-fringe, stuck his nose straight 
 out before him, and went in confidently. The cattle 
 were just ahead. He could smell them, and his listen- 
 ing ears caught their heavy breathing. It was very 
 rocky there in the willows, and he must pick his way 
 with much care. But when he crashed through on the 
 far side, and Billy Louise straightened from leaning 
 low along his neck to avoid the stinging branches, the 
 cattle gave a snort and went lumbering away, still fol- 
 lowing the river. 
 
 This was another small, grassy bottom. Blue went 
 galloping after them, indignant that they should even 
 attempt to elude him. They were making for the head of 
 that pocket, and Billy Louise twitched the reins sugges- 
 tively. Blue obeyed the hint, which proved that the hu- 
 man brain is greater in strategy than is brute instinct, and 
 raced in an angle from the fleeing cattle. Billy Louise 
 leaned and called to him sharply for more speed ; called 
 for it and got it. They jumped a washout that the 
 cattle went into and out of with great lunges, farther 
 down toward its mouth. They gained a little there, 
 and by a burst of hard running they gained more on 
 the level beyond. 
 
 The cattle began to swerve away from them, closer 
 to the river. Blue pulled ahead a little, swerving also, 
 and as Billy Louise tightened the reins, he slowed and 
 circled them craftily until they huddled on the steep 
 bank, uncertain which way to go. Billy Louise pulled 
 Blue down to a walk as she drew near and eyed the
 
 SEVEN LEAN KINE 273 
 
 cattle sharply. They did not look like any of hers, 
 after all. There were five dry cows and two steers. 
 
 One of the steers stood broadside to Billy Louise. 
 The brand stared out from his dingy red side, the 
 most conspicuous thing about him. Billy Louise caught 
 her breath. There was no faintest line that failed to 
 drive its message into her range-trained brain. She 
 stared and stared. Blue looked around at her inquir- 
 ingly, reproachfully. Billy Louise sent him slowly for- 
 ward and stirred up the huddled little bunch. She read 
 the brand on each one; read the story they shouted at 
 her, of bungling theft. She could not believe it. Yet 
 she did believe it, and she went hot with anger and dis- 
 appointment and contempt. She sat and thought for 
 a minute or two, scowling at the cattle, while she 
 decided what to do. 
 
 Finally she swung Blue on the down-stream side and 
 shouted the range cattle-cry. The animals turned awk- 
 wardly and went upstream, as they had been going 
 before Billy Louise stopped them. Blue followed watch- 
 fully after, content with the game he was playing. 
 Where the bluffs drew close again to the river, the 
 cattle climbed to a narrow, shelving trail through the 
 rocks and went on in single file, picking their way 
 carefully along the bluff. Below them it fell sheer to 
 the river; above them it rose steeply, a blackened jum- 
 ble, save where the snow of the last storm lay drifted. 
 
 Billy Louise had never known there was a trail up 
 this gorge. She eyed it critically and saw where bowl- 
 ders had been moved here and there to make its .passage 
 possible. Her lips were set close together and they 
 still bore the imprint of her contempt.
 
 274 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 She thought of Ward. Mentally she abased herself 
 before him because of her doubts. How had she dared 
 think him a thief? Her brave buckaroo! And she 
 had dared think he would steal cattle! Her very re- 
 morse was a whip to lash her anger against the guilty. 
 She hurried the cattle along the dangerous trail, im- 
 patient of their cautious pace. 
 
 When finally they clattered down to the level again, 
 it was to plunge into willow thickets whose branches 
 reached out to sweep her from the saddle. Blue went 
 carefully, stopping now and then at a word from his 
 lady, to wait while she put a larger, more stubborn 
 branch out of her way. She could not see just where 
 she was going, but she knew that she was close upon 
 the cattle, and that they seemed familiar with the trail. 
 Jsow and then she caught sight of a rough-haired rump 
 and switching tail in the thicket before her. Then 
 the whip-like branches would swing close, and she could 
 see nothing but their gray tangle reaching high above 
 her head. She could hear the crackling progress of the 
 cattle close ahead, and the gurgling clamor of the river 
 farther away to her right. But she could not see the 
 bluff for the close-standing willows, and she did not 
 know whether it was near or far to its encircling wall. 
 
 Then, just as she was beginning to think the willows 
 would never end, she came quite suddenly out into the 
 open, and Blue lifted himself and jumped a dry ditch. 
 The cattle were before her, shambling along the fenced 
 border of a meadow.
 
 CHAPTEK XXII 
 
 THB BILLY OF HEB 
 
 SINCE she had closed up on the cattle and had read 
 on their sides the shameful story of theft, Billy 
 Louise had known that she would eventually come out 
 at the lower end of the Cove ; and that in spite of the 
 fact that the Cove was not supposed to have any egress 
 save through the gorge. What surprised her was the 
 short distance; she had not realized that the bluff and 
 the upland formed a wide curve, and that she had cut 
 the distance almost in half by riding next the river. 
 
 She seemed in no doubt as to what she would do when 
 she arrived. Billy Louise was not much given to in- 
 decision at any time. She drove the cattle into the 
 corral farthest from the house, rode on to the stable, 
 and stopped Blue with his nose against the fence there 
 and with his reins dragging. Then, tight-lipped still, 
 she walked determinedly along the path to the gate that 
 led through the berry-jungle to the cabin. 
 
 She opened the gate and stepped through, closing 
 it after her. She had not gone twenty feet when there 
 was a rush from the nearest thicket, and Surbus, his 
 hair ruffed out along his neck, growled and made a 
 leap at her with bared fangs. 
 
 Billy Louise had forgotten about Surbus. She 
 jumped back, startled, and the dog missed landing.
 
 276 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 When he sprang again he met a thirty-eight calibre 
 bullet from Billy Louise's gun and dropped back. It 
 had been a snap shot, without any particular aiming; 
 Billy Louise retreated a few steps farther, watching 
 the dog suspiciously. He gathered himself slowly and 
 prepared to spring at her again. This time Billy Louise, 
 being on the watch for such a move, aimed carefully 
 before she fired. Surbus dropped again, limply a 
 good dog forever more. 
 
 Billy Louise heard a shrill whistle and the sound of 
 feet running. She waited, gun in hand, ready for what- 
 ever might come. 
 
 " Hey ! Charlie ! Somebody 's come ; the bell, she 
 don't reeng." Peter Howling Dog, a pistol in his hand, 
 came running down the path from the cabin. He saw 
 Billy Louise and stopped abruptly, his mouth half 
 open. 
 
 From a shed near the stable came Charlie, also run- 
 ning. Billy Louise waited beside the gate. He did 
 not see her until he was close, for a tangled gooseberry 
 bush stood between them. 
 
 " What was it, Peter ? Somebody in the Cove ? Or 
 was it you " 
 
 " ~No, it was n't Peter ; it was me." Billy Louise 
 informed him calmly and ungrammatically. " I shot 
 Surbus, that 's all." 
 
 " Oh ! Why, Miss Louise, you nearly gave me heart 
 failure ! How are you ? I thought " 
 
 " You thought somebody had gotten into the Cove 
 without your knowing it. Well, someone did. I rode 
 up from below, along the river." 
 
 " Oh er did you ? Pretty rough going, was n't
 
 THE BILLY OF HER 277 
 
 it? I didn't think it could be done. Come in; Aunt 
 Martha will be " 
 
 " I don't think she '11 be overjoyed to see me." Billy 
 Louise stood still beside the gooseberry bush, and she 
 had forgotten to put away her gun. " I drove up those 
 cattle you had down below. You 're awfully care- 
 less, Charlie ! I should think Peter or Marthy would 
 have told you better. When a man steals cattle by 
 working over the brands, it 's very bad form to keep 
 them right on his ranch in plain sight. It is n't done 
 by the best people, you know." Her voice stung with 
 the contempt she managed to put into it. And though 
 she smiled, it was such a smile as one seldom saw 
 upon the face of Billy Louise. 
 
 "What's all this? Worked brands! Why, Miss 
 Louise, I I would n't know how to " 
 
 " I know. You did an awful punk job. A person 
 could tell in the dark it was the work of a greenhorn. 
 Why did n't you let Peter do it, or Marthy ? You could 
 have done a better job than that, could n't you, 
 Marthy?" 
 
 Poor old Marthy, with her rheumatic knees and a 
 gray hardness in her leathery face, had come down 
 the path and stood squarely before Billy Louise, her 
 hands knuckling her flabby hips, her hair blowing in 
 gray, straggling wisps about her bullet head. 
 
 " Better than what ? Come in, Billy Louise. I 'm 
 right glad to see ye back and lookin' so well, even if 
 yuh do 'pear to be in one of your tantrums. How 's 
 yer maw ? " 
 
 Billy Louise gasped and went white. " Mommie 's 
 dead," she said. " She died the ninth." She drew anr
 
 278 
 
 other gasping breath, pulled herself together, and went 
 on before the others could begin the set speeches of 
 sympathy which the announcement seemed to demand. 
 
 " Never mind about that, now. I 'm talking about 
 those Seabeck cattle you folks stole. I was telling 
 Charlie how horribly careless he is, Marthy. Did you 
 know he let them drift down the river? And a blind 
 man could tell a mile off the brands have been worked ! " 
 Billy Louise's tone was positively venomous in its con- 
 tempt. " Why did n't you make Charlie practise on a 
 cowhide for awhile first ? " she asked Marthy cuttingly. 
 
 Marthy ignored the sarcasm. Perhaps it did not 
 penetrate her stolid mind at all. " Charlie never 
 worked any brands, Billy Louise," she stated with her 
 glum directness. 
 
 " Oh, I beg his pardon, I J m sure ! Did you ? " 
 
 " No, I never done such a thing, neither. I don't 
 know what you 're talkin' about." 
 
 "Well, who did, then?" Billy Louise faced the 
 old woman pitilessly. 
 
 " I d'no." Marthy lifted her hand and made a futile 
 effort to tuck in a few of the longest wisps of hair. 
 
 " Well, of all the " The stern gray eyes of Billy 
 Louise flew wide open at the effrontery of the words. 
 If they expected her to believe that ! 
 
 " That 's it, Miss Louise. That 's the point we 'd 
 like to settle, ourselves. I know it sounds outrageous, 
 but it 's a fact. Peter and I found those cattle up in 
 the hills, with our brand worked over the V. On my 
 word of honor, not one of us knows who did it." 
 
 " But you 've got them down here " 
 
 "Well ' Charlie threw out a hand helplessly.
 
 THE BILLY OF HER 279 
 
 His eyes met hers with appealing frankness. " We 
 could n't rub out the brands ; what else could we do ? 
 I figured that somebody else would see them if we left 
 them out in the hills, and it might be rather hard to 
 convince a man; you see, we can't even convince you! 
 But, so help me, not one of us branded those cattle, Miss 
 Louise. I believe that whoever has been rustling stock 
 around here deliberately tried to fix evidence against 
 us. I 'm a stranger in the country, and I don't know 
 the game very well ; I 'm an easy mark ! " 
 
 " Yes, you 're that, all right enough ! " Billy Louise 
 spoke with blunt disfavor, but her contemptuous cer- 
 tainty of his guilt was plainly wavering. " To go and 
 bring stolen cattle right down here " 
 
 " It seemed to me they 'd be safer here than any- 
 where else," Charlie observed naively. " Nobody ever 
 comes down here, unknown to us. I had it sized up 
 that the fellow who worked those brands would never 
 dream we 'd bring the stock right into the Cove. Why, 
 Miss Louise, even I would know better than to put our 
 brand on top of Seabeck's and expect it to pass in- 
 spection. If I wanted to steal cattle, I would n't go at 
 it that way ! " 
 
 Billy Louise glanced uncertainly at him and then at 
 Marthy, facing her grimly. She did not know what 
 to think, and she showed it. 
 
 " How do you mean the real rustlers ? " She be- 
 gan hesitatingly; and hesitation was not by any means 
 a mental habit with Billy Louise. 
 
 " I mean just what I said." Charlie's manner was 
 becoming more natural, more confident. " I 've been 
 riding through the hills a good deal, and I 've seen a
 
 280 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 few things. And I 've an idea the fellow got a little 
 uneasy." He saw her wince a little at the word " fel- 
 low," and he went on, with an impulsive burst of con- 
 fidence. " Miss Louise, have you ever, in your riding 
 around up above Jones Canyon, in all those deep little 
 gulches, have you ever seen anything of a corral, up 
 there?" 
 
 Billy Louise held herself rigidly from starting at this. 
 She bit her lips so that it hurt. " Whereabouts is it ? " 
 she asked, without looking at him. And then : " I 
 thought you would go to any length before you would 
 accuse anybody." 
 
 " I would. But when they deliberately try to hand 
 me the blame and I 'm not accusing anybody any- 
 body in particular, am I? The corral is at the head 
 of a steep little canyon or gulch, back in the hills where 
 all these bigger canyons head. Some time when you 're 
 riding up that way, you keep an eye out for it. That," 
 he added grimly, " is where Peter and I ran across 
 these cattle ; right near that corral." 
 
 The heart of Billy Louise went heavy in her chest. 
 Was it possible? Doubts are harder to kill than cats 
 or snakes. You think they 're done for, and here they 
 come again, crowding close so that one can see noth- 
 ing else. 
 
 " Have you any idea at all, who it is ? " She 
 forced the words out of her dry throat. She lifted her 
 head defiantly and looked at him full, trying to read 
 the truth from his eyes and his mouth. 
 
 Charlie Fox met her look, and in his eyes she read 
 pity yes, pity for her. " If I have," he said, with 
 an air of gently deliberate evasion, " I '11 wait till I
 
 THE BILLY OF HER 281 
 
 am dead sure before I name the man. I 'm not at all 
 sure I 'd do it even then, Miss Louise ; not unless I 
 was forced to do it in self-defense. That 's one reason 
 why I brought the cattle down here. I did n't want 
 to be placed in a position where I should be compelled 
 to fight back." 
 
 Billy Louise ran her gloved fingers, down the barrel 
 of her gun, and stuck the weapon back in its holster. 
 " I killed Surbus, Marthy," she said dully. " I had 
 to. He came at me." 
 
 Marthy turned heavily toward the spot which Billy 
 Louise indicated with her downward glance. She had 
 not seen the dog lying there half hidden by a berry 
 bush. Marthy gave a grunt of dismay and went over 
 to where Surbus lay huddled. Her hard old face 
 worked with emotion. 
 
 " You shot him, did yuh ? " Marthy's voice was 
 harsh with reproach. " What did he do to yuh, that 
 you had to go t' work and shoot him ? He warn't your 
 dog, he was mine ! I must say you 're gittin' high-an'- 
 mighty, Billy Louise, comin' here shootin' my dog and 
 accusin' Charlie and me to our faces uh bein' thieves. 
 And your maw not cold in 'er grave y.it! I must say 
 you 're gitting too high-an'-mighty fer old Marthy. And 
 me payin' fer your schoolin' and never gitting so much 
 as a thankye fer it, and scrimpin' and savin' to make 
 a lady out of yuh. And here you come in a tantrum, 
 callin' me a thief right in my face! You knowed all 
 along who worked them brands. If yuh don't, I kin 
 mighty quick tell ye " 
 
 " Now, Aunt Martha, never mind scolding Billy 
 Louise; you know you think as much of her as you do
 
 282 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 of me, and that 's throwing a big bouquet at myself ! " 
 Charlie went up and laid his arm caressingly over th 
 old woman's shoulder. " You don't want to let this 
 upset you, Aunt Martha. Surbus was a mean-tempered 
 brute with strangers. You know that. I don't blame 
 Miss Louise in the least. She was frightened when 
 he came at her, and she had n't presence of mind 
 enough to see he was only bluffing and would n't 
 hurt " 
 
 " Bluffing, was he ? " Billy Louise roused herself 
 to meet this covert attack upon her courage. " So are 
 you bluffing. And so is Marthy, when she says she 
 paid for my " She stopped, confronting an accus- 
 ing memory of mommie's mysterious silence about the 
 school money, and her own passing curiosity which had 
 never been satisfied. " Even if she did, I don't know 
 why she need throw it up to me now. I never asked 
 her for money. Nobody ever did. And that has noth- 
 ing to do with Surbus, anyway. He 's a nasty, mean 
 brute that ought to have been killed long ago. I 'm 
 not a bit sorry. I 'm glad I did kill him." 
 " Yes, I know yuh be. You 're hard as " 
 " I would n't. talk about hardness, if I were you, 
 Marthy ! What are you, right now and always ? 
 Was I to blame for thinking those cattle had been 
 stolen ? They 're in the Cove, with your brand on. 
 And unless you pay Seabeck for them, you 're stealing 
 them if you keep them. It doesn't matter who put 
 the brand on ; you 're keeping the cattle. What do you 
 call that, I 'd like to know ? They 're down here in 
 the big corral now. If you mean to do what 's square, 
 you '11 take them up to Seabeck's and explain "
 
 THE BILLY OF HER 283 
 
 " Explain who it was ran our brand on ? " Charlie's 
 voice was silk over iron. " I 'm afraid if I were forced 
 into explanations, I 'd have to tell all I know, Miss 
 Louise. Do you advise that really ? " 
 
 " I don't advise anything." Baffled and angry and 
 hurt to the very soul of her, Billy Louise opened the 
 gate and went out. " It strikes me you Cove folks 
 are not wanting advice these days, or needing it. If 
 you know anything to tell, for heaven's sake don't hold 
 back on my account ! It 's nothing to me, one way 
 or the other. I 'm no rustler, and no friend of rustlers, 
 if that 's what you 're hinting at." She left them with 
 a proud lift to her chin and a very straight back, went 
 to Blue, and mounted him mechanically. Billy Louise 
 was " seeing red " just then. She rode back past the 
 gate, the three were still standing there close together, 
 talking. Billy Louise swung round in the saddle so 
 that she faced them. 
 
 " You need n't worry, Marthy, about that school- 
 money," she called out angrily. " I '11 take your word 
 for it and pay you back every cent, with legal rate of 
 interest. And I 'm darned glad I did shoot Surbus ! " 
 
 " Oh, say, Miss Louise ! " Charlie called placatingly. 
 " Please don't go away feeling " 
 
 " You go to the devil ! " Billy Louise flung back 
 
 at him and touched Blue with her heel. " I hope that 
 
 shocked some of the politeness out of him, anyway," 
 
 she added grimly to herself. " Oh, I hate everything 
 
 - Ward and God and all ! I hate life I hate it ! " 
 
 She pulled Blue down to a walk and rode slowly for 
 a couple of rods, fighting against the reaction that crept 
 inexorably over her anger, chilling it and making it
 
 284 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 seem weak and unworthy. With a sudden impulse 
 born of her stern instincts of justice, she jerked Blue 
 around and galloped back. Charlie had disappeared, 
 and Peter Howling Dog was walking sullenly toward 
 the corraled cattle. Marthy was going slowly up the 
 path to the cabin, looking old and bent and broken- 
 spirited because of her bowed shoulders and stiff, rheu- 
 matic gait, but harsh and unyielding as to her face. 
 Billy Louise stopped by the fence and called to her. 
 Marthy turned, stared at her sourly, and stood where 
 she was. 
 
 " Wall, what d'yuh want now ? " she asked uncom- 
 promisingly. 
 
 Billy Louise fought back an answering antagonism. 
 She must be just; she could not blame Marthy for 
 feeling hard toward her. She had insulted them hor- 
 ribly and killed Marthy's dog. 
 
 " I want to tell you I 'm sorry I was so mean, 
 Marthy," she said bravely. " I have n't any excuse to 
 make for it; only you must see yourself what a shock 
 it would be to a person to find those cattle down here. 
 But I know you 're honest, and so is Charlie. And I 
 know you '11 do what 's right. I 'm sorry I told Char- 
 lie to go to the devil, and I 'm sorry I shot your dog, 
 Marthy." 
 
 Apologies did not come easily to Billy Louise. She 
 wheeled then and rode away at a furious gallop, be- 
 fore Marthy could do more than open her grim lips 
 for reply.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 BILLY LOUISE GETS A SUBPBISE 
 
 FRIGHTENED, worried, sick at heart because 
 her crowding doubts and suspicions had suddenly 
 developed into black certainty just when she had thought 
 them dead forever, Billy Louise rode up the narrow, 
 rocky gorge. She had come to have a vague compre- 
 hension of the temptation Ward must have felt. She 
 had come to accept pityingly the possibility that the 
 canker of old influences had eaten more deeply than 
 appeared on the surface. She had set herself stanchly 
 beside him as his friend, who would help him win 
 back his self-respect. She felt sure that he must suffer 
 terribly with that keen, analytical mind of his, when 
 he stopped to think at all. He had no warped ethics 
 wherewith to ease his conscience. She knew his ideas 
 of right and wrong were as uncompromising as her own, 
 and if he stole cattle, he did it with his eyes wide open 
 to the wrong he was doing. And yet 
 
 " That 's bad enough, but to try and fasten evidence 
 on someone else ! " Billy Louise gritted her teeth over 
 the treachery of it. She believed he had done that 
 very thing. How could she help it ? She had seen the 
 corral and had seen Ward ride away from it in the 
 dusk of evening; or she believed she had seen him, 
 which was the same thing. She knew that Ward's pros- 
 perity was out of proportion with his visible resources.
 
 286 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 And she knew what lay behind him. Was his version 
 of the past after all the correct one! Might not the 
 paragraph she had burned been nothing more than the 
 truth ? 
 
 Billy Louise fought for him; fought with her stern, 
 youthful judgment which was so uncompromising. It 
 takes years of close contact with life to give one a sure 
 understanding of human weakness and human endeavor. 
 
 At the ford, when Blue would have crossed and taken 
 the trail home, Billy Louise reined him impulsively 
 the other way. Until that instant she had not intended 
 to seek Ward, but once her fingers had twitched the 
 reins against Blue's neck, she did not hesitate; she 
 did not even argue with herself. She just glanced up 
 at the sun, saw that it was not yet noon so much may 
 happen in two or three hours ! and sent Blue up the 
 hill at a lope. 
 
 She did not know what she would do or what she 
 would say when she saw Ward. She knew that she was 
 full of bitterness and disappointment and chagrin. She 
 had accused innocent persons of a crime. Ward had 
 placed her in that position and compelled her to recant 
 and apologize. She had offended Marthy beyond for- 
 giveness and Charlie Fox. Her face burned with 
 shame when she remembered the things she had said 
 to them. Ward was the cause of that humiliation ; and 
 Ward was going to know exactly what she thought of 
 him ; beyond that she did not go. 
 
 The two mares fed dispiritedly at the lowest corner 
 of the field, their hair rough with exposure to the win- 
 ter winds and the storms, their ribs showing. With 
 all the hay he had put up. Ward might at least keep
 
 BILLY LOUISE SURPRISED '287 
 
 his horses in better shape, Billy Louise censured, as 
 she passed them by. A few head of cows and calves 
 wandered aimlessly among the thinnest fringe of wil- 
 lows along the creek; they showed more ribs than did 
 the mares. Billy Louise pulled her lips tight. They 
 did not look as though they had been fed a forkful 
 of hay all winter ; your true range man or woman gets 
 to know these things instinctively. 
 
 Farther along, Billy Louise heard a welcoming nicker 
 and turned her head. Here came Rattler, thin-flanked 
 and rough-coated, trotting down a shallow gulley to 
 meet Blue. The two horses chummed together when- 
 ever Ward was at the Wolverine. Billy Louise pulled 
 up and waited till Rattler reached her. He and Blue 
 rubbed noses, and Blue laid back his ears and shook 
 his head with teeth bared, in playful pretense of 
 anger. Rattler kicked up his heels in disdain at the 
 threat and trotted alongside them. 
 
 Billy Louise rode with puckered eyebrows. Ward 
 might neglect his stock, but he would never neglect 
 Rattler like this. And he must be at home, since here 
 was his horse. Or else . . . 
 
 She struck Blue suddenly with her rein-ends and 
 went clattering up the trail where the snow lay in 
 shaded, crusty patches rimmed with dirt. The trail 
 was untracked save by the loose stock. Where was 
 Ward ? What had happened to him ? She looked again 
 at Rattler. There was no sign of recent saddle-marks 
 along his side, no telltale imprint of the cinch under 
 his belly. Where was Ward ? 
 
 Blind, unreasoning terror filled Billy Louise. She 
 struck Blue again and plunged into the icy creek-
 
 288 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 crossing near the stable. She stopped there just long 
 enough to see how empty and desolate it was, and 
 how the horses and cattle had huddled against its shel- 
 tering wall out of the biting winds ; and how the door 
 was shut and fastened so that they could not get in. 
 She opened it and looked in, and shut it again. Then 
 she turned and ran, white-faced, to the cabin. Where 
 was Ward? What had happened to Ward? Thief 
 or honest man, treacherous or true what had hap- 
 pened to him? 
 
 Billy Louise saw the doorstep banked over with old, 
 crusted snow. Her heart gave a jump and stopped 
 still. She felt her knees shake under her. Her face 
 seemed to pinch together, the flesh clinging close to 
 the bones. Her whole being seemed to contract with 
 the deadly fear that gripped her. It was like that chill 
 morning when she had crept out of her cot and gone 
 over to mommie's bed and had lifted mommie's hand 
 that was hanging down. . . . 
 
 She came to herself; she was running up the creek, 
 away from the cabin. Running and stumbling over 
 rocks, and getting tripped with her riding-skirt. She 
 stopped, as soon as she realized what she was doing; 
 she stopped and stood with her hands pressed hard 
 against each side of her face, forcing herself to calm- 
 ness again or at least to sanity. She had to go back. 
 She told herself so, many times. " You 've got to go 
 back ! " she repeated, as if to a second person. " You 
 can't be such a fool ; you 've got to go back. And you 've 
 got to go inside. You 've got to do it." 
 
 So Billy Louise went back to the cabin, slowly, with 
 shaking legs and a heart that fluttered and stopped,
 
 BILLY LOUISE SURPRISED 289 
 
 fluttered and jumped and stopped, and made her stag- 
 ger as she walked. She reached the doorstep and stood 
 there with her palms pressing hard against her cheeks 
 again. " You 've got to do it. You 've got to ! " she 
 whispered to herself commandingly. 
 
 She never doubted that Ward was inside. She 
 thought she would find him dead dead and horrible, 
 perhaps. No other solution seemed to fit the circum- 
 stances. He was in there, dead. He had been dead 
 for some time, because there were no saddle-marks on 
 Rattler, and because the snow was crusted over the door- 
 step with never a mark to break its smooth roundness. 
 She had to go in. She was the person who must find 
 him and do what she could. She must do it, because 
 he was Ward her Ward. 
 
 It took courage to open that door, but Billy Louise 
 had courage enough to open it, and to step inside and 
 close the door after her. She did not look at any- 
 thing in the cabin while she did it, though. She kept 
 her eyelids down so that she only saw the floor directly 
 in front of the door. She had a sense of relief that 
 it looked perfectly natural, though dusty. 
 
 " Throw up your hands ! " came hoarsely from the 
 bunk. Billy Louise gasped and pulled her gun, and 
 dropped crouching to the floor. Also she looked up. 
 She had not recognized that voice, and while she had 
 never except in imagination faced an emergency like 
 this, she had played robbers and rescues too often not 
 to have formed a mental habit to fit the situation. What 
 she did she had done many, .many times in her " pre- 
 tend " world, sitting somewhere dreaming. 
 
 From her crouching position she looked into Ward's
 
 290 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 fever-wild eyes. He was sitting up in the bunk, and 
 he was pointing his big forty-five at her relentlessly. 
 "Get up from there!" he ordered sternly. "Don't 
 try any game like that on me, Buck Olney! Get up 
 and go over and sit in that chair. I 've got a few 
 things to say to you." 
 
 Billy Louise somehow grasped the truth, up to a 
 certain point. Ward was sick ; so sick he did n't know 
 her. She thought she would better humor him. She 
 got up and went and sat in the chair as he directed. 
 
 Ward, keeping the gun pointing her way, sneered 
 at her in a way that made the soul of Billy Louise 
 crimple. She faced him big-eyed, too amazed at the 
 change in him to feel any fear that he would harm her. 
 He had whiskers two inches long. She would n't have 
 known him except for his hair and that was terribly 
 tousled ; and his eyes, though they were wild and angry. 
 His voice was hoarse, and while he glared at her, he 
 coughed with a hard, croupy resonance. 
 
 " So you came back, did yuh ? " he asked grimly at 
 last. " Well, you did n't get a chance to plug me in the 
 back. How long did you lay up there on the bluff 
 this time, waiting to catch me when I was n't looking ? 
 I 've been wishing I 'd left that rope so it would have 
 hung you, you damned ! " (Billy Louise lis- 
 tened round-eyed to certain man-sized epithets strange 
 to her ears.) 
 
 " I suppose you and Foxy and that halfbreed have 
 been fixing up some more evidence, huh ? You figure 
 that I can't catch 'em this time and work the brands 
 over, so they '11 stand Y6es, and I '11 get railroaded to 
 the pen. Well, you 've overplayed your hand, old-timer.
 
 BILLY LOUISE SURPRISED 291 
 
 I let you fellows down easy, last time. I don't reckon 
 Foxy objected much to those few I turned back to him, 
 and I don't reckon you did any kicking when you found 
 I 'd cut the rope so it would n't hold your rotten carcass. 
 You can't let well enough alone, though. You thought 
 you 'd raise me, did you ? You thought you 'd come 
 back and try another whack at me behind my back. 
 You knew damned well I was n't the kind of man that 
 would jump the country. You knew you 'd find me right 
 here, attending to my business like I 've always done. 
 
 " But you 've overplayed your hand. This time I 'm 
 going to get you and Foxy and the breed along with 
 you. It was a damned, rotten trick, running Y6es over 
 Seabeck's brand. If I had n't caught you in the act, 
 you 'd have planted them cattle where all hell could n't 
 have saved me when they were found. If I had n't 
 caught you at it and run MK monograms over the whole 
 cheese, I 'd have been up against it for fair. So now 
 you 're going to get what 's coming -to yuh. I won't 
 take any chances on your not trying it again. I 'm 
 going to protect myself right. 
 
 " You throw that gun on the bed." (Billy Louise 
 did so, her eyes still upon Ward's flushed face.) " Now, 
 get down that tablet from the shelf. Here's a pencil." 
 He drew one from under his pillow and tossed it to- 
 ward her. " Now you write the truth about all this 
 rustling. It 's a bigger thing than shows right in this 
 neighborhood. I know that. And I know too that Foxy 
 has been pulling down some- on the side. He never 
 paid for all the stock that 's running around vented 
 and rebranded MK. I 've got that sized up. Pretty 
 smooth trick, too; a heap better than working brands.
 
 292 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 He ought to have been satisfied with that but a crook 
 never is satisfied. I knew he was n't the tenderfoot he 
 tried to make out, and when I saw some of his stock 
 and that gate fixed to ring a bell when it was opened, 
 I knew he was a crook. But he made a big mistake 
 when he threw in with you, you 
 
 " I want you to write down the truth about that 
 Hardup deal ; who was in with you. I know, all right, 
 but I want it down on paper. And I want to know 
 how long Foxy 's been in with you, and who 's working 
 the game on the outside. Get busy ; write it all down. 
 I '11 give you all the time you need ; don't leave out 
 anything. Dates and all, I want the whole graft. 
 Don't try to get away. I 've got this gun loaded to 
 the guards, and you know I 'm aching for an ex- 
 cuse " He stopped and coughed again, hoarsely, 
 rackingly. Then he lay quiet, except for his rasping 
 breath and watched. 
 
 Billy Louise, with the tablet on her trembling knees, 
 pretended to write. From under her lashes she watched 
 Ward curiously. She saw his attention waver, saw his 
 eyes wander aimlessly about the room. She sat very 
 still and waited, making scrawly marks that had no 
 meaning at all. She saw Ward's fingers loosen on 
 the revolver, saw his head turn wearily on the pillow. 
 He was staring out through the window at the brilliant 
 blue of the sky with the dazzling white clouds drifting 
 like bits of cotton to the northward. He had forgotten 
 her.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 THE HOOKIN'-COUGH MAN 
 
 BILLY LOUISE waited another minute or two, 
 weighing the possibilities. She saw Ward's fin-~ 
 gers drop away from the gun, but they remained close 
 enough for a dangerously quick gripping of it again, 
 if the whim seized him. Still surely to goodness, 
 Ward would never get crazy enough to hurt her ! Per- 
 haps her feminine assurance of her hold on him, more 
 than her courage, kept her nerves fairly steady. She 
 bit the pencil absently, watching him. 
 
 Ward turned his head restlessly on the pillow and 
 coughed again. Billy Louise got up quietly, went close 
 to the bed, and laid her hand on his forehead. His head 
 was hot, and the veins were swollen and throbbing on 
 his temples. 
 
 " Brave Buckaroo got a headache ? " she queried 
 softly, stroking his temples soothingly. " Got the 
 hookin'-cough, too. Get every measly thing he can think 
 of. Even got a grouch against the Flower of the 
 Ranch-oh ! " Her voice was crooningly soft and sweet, 
 as if she were murmuring over a sleepy baby. 
 
 Ward closed his eyes, opened them, and looked up 
 into her .face. One hand came up uncertainly and caught 
 her fingers closely. " Wilhemina-mine ! " he said, in his 
 hoarse voice. His eyes cleared to sanity under her 
 touch.
 
 294 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Billy Louise drew a small sigh of relief and reached 
 unobtrusively with her free hand for the gun. She slid 
 it down away from his fingers, and when he still paid 
 no attention, she picked it up quite openly and laid 
 it against the footboard. Ward did not say anything. 
 He seemed altogether occupied with the amazing reality 
 of her presence. He clung to her fingers and looked 
 at her with that intent stare of his, as if he were trying 
 to hold her there by the sheer power of his will. 
 
 " Well, how am I going to doctor you and feed you 
 and make you all comfy, with one hand ? "' asked Billy 
 Louise with quavering flippancy. 
 
 "Kiss me!" 
 
 " Ah might catch the hookin'-cough," bantered 
 Billy Louise, leaning a bit closer. 
 
 "Kiss me!" 
 
 " Oh, well, I s'pose sick folks have to be humored." 
 Billy Louise leaned closer still. " Mighty few kissy 
 places left," she observed with the same shaky flippancy, 
 a minute later. " Say, Ward, you look for all the 
 world like old Sourdough Williams ! " Sourdough Wil- 
 liams, it may be remarked, was a particularly hairy and 
 unkempt individual who lived a more or less nomadic 
 life in the hills, trapping. 
 
 " You look like " Ward groped foggily for a 
 simile. Angel was altogether too commonplace. 
 
 " Like the lady who 's going to get busy right now, 
 making you well. What have you been doing to your- 
 self? Never mind; I don't want you talking your- 
 self crazy again. Do you know you tried to shoot me 
 up when I came in? And you made me start in to 
 write a record of my sins. But that 's all right, see-
 
 THE HOOKIX'-COUGH MAN 295 
 
 ing you 've got the hookin'-cough, I '11 forgive you this 
 once. Lie still and let go my hand. I want to put 
 a wet cloth on your head." 
 
 " Did I " 
 
 " You did ; and then some. Forget it. You Ve got 
 a terrible cold ; and from the looks of things, you 've 
 had it for about six months." Her eyes went com- 
 prehensively about that end of the cabin, with the de- 
 pleted cracker-box, the half-emptied boxes of peaches 
 and tomatoes, and the buckets that were all but empty 
 of water. She was shocked at the pitiful evidence of 
 long helplessness. She did not quite understand. Surely 
 Ward's cold had not kept him in bed so long. 
 
 " Well, this is no time for mirth or laughter," she said 
 briskly, to hide how close she was to hysteria, " since 
 it looks very much like ' the morning after.' First, 
 we 've got to tackle that fever of yours." She picked 
 up a water-pail and started for the door. As she passed 
 the foot of the bunk, she confiscated the two revolvers 
 and took them outside with her. She had no desire 
 to be mistaken again for Buck Olney. 
 
 When she came back, Ward's eyes were wild again, 
 and he started up in bed and glared at her. Billy Louise 
 laughed at him and told him to lie down like a nice 
 buckaroo, and Ward, recalled to himself by her voice, 
 obeyed. She got the wash-basin and a towel and pre- 
 pared to bathe his head. He wanted a drink. And 
 when she held a cup to his lips and saw how greedily 
 he drank, a little sob broke unexpectedly from her lips. 
 She gritted her teeth after it and forced a laugh. 
 
 " You 're sure a hard drinker," she bantered and 
 wet her handkerchief to lay on his brow.
 
 296 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " That 's the first decent drink I Ve had for a month," 
 he told her, dropping back to the pillow, refreshed to 
 the point of clear thinking. " Old Lady Fortune 's still 
 playing football with me, William. I've been laid 
 up with a broken leg for about six weeks. And when 
 I got gay and thought I could handle myself again, I 
 put myself ou-t of business for awhile, and caught this 
 cold before I came to and crawled back into bed. I 'm 
 sure glad you showed up, old girl. I was get- 
 ting up against it for fair." He coughed. 
 
 " Looks like it." Billy Louise held herself rigidly 
 back from any emotional expression. She could not 
 afford to " go to pieces " now. She tried to think just 
 what a trained nurse would do, in such a case. Her 
 hospital experience would be of some use here, she 
 told herself. She remembered reading somewhere that 
 no experience is valueless, if one only applies the knowl- 
 edge gained. 
 
 " First," she said cheerfully, " the patient must be 
 kept quiet and cheerful. So don't go jumping up and 
 down on your broken leg, Ward Warren ; the nurse for- 
 bids it. And smile, if it kills you." 
 
 Ward grinned appreciatively. Sick as he was, he 
 realized the gameness of Billy Louise; what he failed 
 to realize was the gameness of himself. " I 'm a pretty 
 worthless specimen, right now," he said apologetically. 
 " But I 'm yours to command, Bill-the-Conk. You 're 
 the doctor." 
 
 " Nope, I 'm the cook, right now. I Ve got a hunch. 
 How would you like a cup of tea, patient ? " 
 
 " I 'd rather have coffee Doctor William." 
 
 " Tea, you mean. I '11 have it ready in ten minutes."
 
 THE HOOKIN'-COUGH MAN 297 
 
 Then she weakened before his imploring eyes. " You 
 really ought n't to drink coffee, with that fever, Ward. 
 But, maybe if I don't make it very strong and put 
 in lots of cream We '11 take a chance, buckaroo ! " 
 
 Ward watched her as intently as if his life depended 
 on her speed. He had lain in that bunk for nearly six 
 weeks with the coffee-pot sitting in plain sight on the 
 back of the stove, twelve feet or so from his reach, 
 and with the can of coffee standing in plain sight on 
 the rough board shelf against the wall by the window. 
 And he had craved coffee almost as badly as a drunkard 
 craves whisky. 
 
 The sound of the fire snapping in the stove was like 
 music to him. Later, the smell of the coffee coming 
 briskly to the boiling-point made his mouth water with 
 desire. And when Billy Louise jabbed two little slits 
 in a cream can with the point of a butcher knife and 
 poured a thin stream of canned milk into a big, white 
 granite cup, Ward's eyes turned traitor to his love for 
 the girl and dwelt hungrily upon the swift movements 
 of her hands. 
 
 " How much sugar, patient ? " Billy Louise turned 
 toward him with the tomato-can sugar-bowl in her 
 hands. 
 
 " None. I want to taste the coffee, this trip." 
 
 " Oh, all right ! It 's the worst thing you could think 
 of, but that 's the way with a patient. Patients always 
 want what they must n't have." 
 
 " Sure get it, too." Ward spoke between long, 
 satisfying gulps. " How 's your other patient, Wil- 
 hemina ? How 's mommie ? " 
 
 " Oh, Ward ! She 's dead mommie 's dead ! "
 
 298 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Billy Louise broke down unexpectedly and completely. 
 She went down on her knees beside the bed and cried 
 as she had not cried since she looked the last time 
 at mommie's still face, held in that terrifying calm. 
 She cried until Ward's excited mutterings warned her 
 that she must pull herself together. She did, some- 
 how, in spite of her sorrow and her worry and that 
 day's succession of emotional shocks. She did it be- 
 cause Ward was sick very sick, she was afraid 
 and there was so much that she must do for him. 
 
 " You be s-still," she commanded brokenly, fighting 
 for her former safe cheerfulness. " I 'm all right. Pity 
 yourself, if you Ve got to pity somebody. I can 
 stand my trouble. I have n't got any broken leg and 
 hookin'-cough." She managed a laugh then and 
 took Ward's hand from her hair and laid it down on 
 the blankets. " Now we won't talk about things any 
 more. You 've got to have something done for that 
 cold on your lungs." She rose and stood looking down 
 at him with puckered eyebrows. 
 
 " Mommie would say you ought to have a good sweat," 
 she decided. " Got any ginger ? " 
 
 " I dunno. I guess not," Ward muttered con- 
 fusedly. 
 
 " Well, I '11 go out and find some sage, then, and 
 give you sage tea. That 's another cure-all. Say, Ward, 
 I saw Rattler down the creek. He 's looking fine and 
 dandy. He came whinnying down out of that draw, 
 to meet us; just tickled to death to see somebody." 
 
 " Don't blame him," croaked Ward. " It 's enough 
 to tickle anybody." Her voice seemed to steady his 
 straying fancies. " How 're the cattle looking ? "
 
 THE HOOKIN'-COUGH MAN 299 
 
 " Just fine," lied Billy Louise. " You 're the skin- 
 niest thing I 've seen on the ranch. Now do you think 
 you can keep your senses, while I go and pick some 
 nice, good meddy off a sage bush ? " 
 
 " I guess so." Ward spoke drowsily. " Give me 
 some more coffee and I can." 
 
 " Oh, you 're the pesteringest patient ! I told you 
 coffee is n't good for what ails you, but I suppose " 
 She poured him another cup of coffee, weakened it with 
 hot water, and let him drink it straight. After all, per- 
 haps the hot drink would induce the perspiration that 
 would break the fever. She pulled up the wolf-skins and 
 the extra blankets he had tossed aside in his feverish 
 restlessness and covered him to his chin. 
 
 " If you don't move till I come back," she promised, 
 " I '11 maybe give you another cup after you 've filled 
 up on sage tea." With that qualified hope to cheer him, 
 she left him. 
 
 She did not spend all her time picking sage twigs. 
 A bush grew at the corner of the cabin within easy 
 reach. She went first down to the stable and led Blue 
 inside and unsaddled him. Rattler was standing near, 
 and she tried to lead him in also, but he fled from 
 her approach. She found the pitchfork and managed 
 to scratch a few forkfuls of hay down from a corner 
 of the stack; enough to fill a manger for Blue and to 
 leave a little heap beside the stable for Rattler. 
 
 When she was leaving the stable to return to the 
 house, however, she changed her plan a little. She went 
 back, carried the small pile of hay into the stable, and 
 filled another manger. Then she took down the wire 
 gate of the hay corral and laid it flat alongside the
 
 300 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 fence. Rattler would go in to the stack, and she would 
 shut him in. That would simplify the catching of him 
 when he was needed. She would find something in 
 which to carry water to him, if he was too frisky to 
 lead to the creek. Billy Louise was no coward with 
 horses, but she recognized certain fixed limitations in 
 the management of a snuffy brute like Rattler. He 
 was not like Blue, whom she could bully and tease 
 and coax. Rattler was distinctly a man's saddle-horse. 
 Billy Louise had never done more than pat his shoul- 
 der after. he was caught and saddled and, therefore, 
 prepared for handling. She foresaw some perturbation 
 of spirit in regard to Rattler. 
 
 Ward was lying quiet when she went in, except that 
 he was waving her handkerchief to and fro by the cor- 
 ners to cool it. Billy Louise took it from him, wet it 
 again with cold water, and scolded him for getting his 
 arms from under the covers. That, she said, was no 
 nice way for a hookin'-cough man to do. 
 
 Ward meekly submitted to being covered to his eyes. 
 Then he wriggled his chin free and demanded that she 
 kiss him. Ward was fairly drunk with happiness be- 
 cause she was there, in the cabin. The dreary weeks 
 behind him were a nightmare to be forgotten. His Wil- 
 hemina-mine was there, and she liked him to pieces. 
 Though she had not affirmed it with words, her eyes 
 when she looked at him told him so ; and she had kissed 
 him when he asked her to. He wanted her to repeat 
 the ecstasy. 
 
 " Ward Warren, you 're a perfectly awful hookin'- 
 cough man ! There. 'Now that 's going to be the very 
 last one Oh, Ward, it is n't ! " She knelt and curved
 
 THE HOOKIN'-COUGH MAN 301 
 
 an arm around his face and kissed him again and yet 
 again. " I do love you, Ward. I 've been a weak- 
 kneed, horrid thing, and I 'm ashamed to the middle 
 of my bones. You 're my own brave buckaroo always 
 always ! You Ve done what no other man would do, 
 and you don't whine about it ; and I 've been weak and 
 - horrid ; and I '11 have to love you about a million 
 years before I can quit feeling ashamed." She kissed 
 him again with a passion of remorse for her doubts of 
 him. 
 
 " Are you through being pals, Wilhemina ? " Ward 
 broke rules and freed an arm, so that he could hold 
 her closer. 
 
 " No, I 'm just beginning. Just beginning right. 
 I 'm your pal for keeps. But " 
 
 " I love you for keeps, lady mine." Ward stifled 
 another cough. " When are you going to marry 
 me?" 
 
 " Oh, when you get over the hookin'-cough, I s'pose." 
 Once more Billy Louise, for the good of her patient, 
 forced herself into safe flippancy that was not flip- 
 pant at all, but merely a tender pretense. 
 
 " Now it 's up to you to show me whether you are 
 in any hurry at all to get well," she said. " Keep your 
 hands under the covers while I make some tea. That 
 fever of yours has got to be stopped immediately to 
 once." 
 
 She went over and busied herself about the stove, 
 never once looking toward the bed, though she must 
 have felt Ward's eyes worshiping her. She was ter- 
 ribly worried about Ward; so worried that she put 
 everything else into the background of her mind and
 
 302 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 set herself sternly to the need of breaking the fever 
 and lessening the evident congestion in his lungs. 
 
 She hunted through the cupboards and found a bot- 
 tle of turpentine; syrupy and yellowed with age, but 
 pungent with strength. She found some lard in a small 
 bucket and melted half a teacupful. Then she tore 
 up a woolen undershirt she found hanging on a nail 
 and bore relentlessly down upon him. 
 
 " You gotta be greased all over your lungs," she an- 
 nounced with a matter-of-factness that cost her some- 
 thing; for Billy Louise's innate modesty was only just 
 topped by her good sense. 
 
 Ward submitted without protest while she bared his 
 chest as white as her own and applied the warm 
 mixture with a smoothly vigorous palm. " That '11 fix 
 the hookin'-cough," she said, as she spread the warm 
 layers of woolen cloth smoothly from shoulder to shoul- 
 der. " How does it feel ? " 
 
 " Great," he assured her succinctly, and wisely omit- 
 ted any love-making. 
 
 " Will your game leg let you turn over ? Because 
 there 's some dope left, and it ought to go between your 
 shoulders." 
 
 " The game leg ought to stand more than, that," he 
 told her, turning slowly. " If I had n'l got this cold 
 tacked onto me, I 'd have been trying to walk on it 
 by now." 
 
 " Better give it time since you Ve been game 
 enough to lie here all this while and take care of it. 
 I don't believe I 'd have had nerve enough for that, 
 Ward." She poured turpentine and lard into her palm, 
 readied inside his collar arid rubbed it on his shoul-
 
 THE HOOKIN'-COUGH MAN 303 
 
 ders. " Good thing you had plenty of grub handy. 
 But it must hare been awful ! " 
 
 " It was pretty damned lonesome," he admitted lacon- 
 ically, and that was as far as his complainings went. 
 
 Billy Louise then poured the water off the sage leaves 
 she had been brewing in a tin basin, carefully fished out 
 a stem or two, and made Ward drink every bitter drop. 
 Then she covered him to the eyes and hardened her 
 heart against his discomfort, while she kept the hand- 
 kerchief cool on his head and between times swept the 
 floor with a carefully dampened broom and wiped the 
 dust off things and restored the room to its most cheer- 
 ful atmosphere of livableness. 
 
 " Wan' a drink," mumbled Ward, with a blanket over 
 his mouth and a raveled thread tickling his nose so 
 that he squirmed. 
 
 Billy Louise went over and laid her fingers on his 
 neck. " I can't tell whether it 's grease or perspira- 
 tion," she said, laughing a little. " What are you 
 squinting up your nose for? Surely to goodness you 
 don't mind that little, harmless raveling? If you 
 would n't go on breathing, it would n't wiggle around 
 so much ! " Nevertheless, she plucked the tormenting 
 thread and threw it on the floor. 
 
 " Gimme drink," Ward mumbled again. 
 
 " There 's more sage tea " 
 
 "Waugh!" 
 
 " I suppose that means you are n't crazy about sage 
 
 tea ! Well, I might give you a teenty-weenty speck more 
 
 of coffee. You can't have water yet, you know. You Ve 
 
 you 've got to sweat like a nigger in a cotton patch 
 
 first." (Billy Louise could talk very nicely when she
 
 wanted to do so. The Billy of her could also be hu- 
 manly inelegant when she felt like it, as you see.) 
 
 Ward grunted something and afterwards signified that 
 he would take the coffee and call it square. 
 
 The next time she went near him, he was wrinkling 
 his lean nose because beads of perspiration were stand- 
 ing there and slipping occasionally down to his cheeks. 
 
 " Fine ! You 're two niggers in a cotton patch now," 
 she announced cheeringly. " And Mr. Hookin'-cough 
 will have to hunt another home, I reckon. You were n't 
 half as hoarse when you swore that last time." 
 
 It was physically impossible for Ward to blush, since 
 he was already the color of a boiled beet ; but he looked 
 guilty when she uncovered the rest of his face and 
 wiped off the gathered moisture. " I did n't think 
 you 'd hear," he grinned embarrassedly. 
 
 " I was listening for it, buckaroo. I 'd have been 
 scared to pieces if you had n't cussed a little. I 'd 
 have thought sure you were going to die. A man," 
 she added sententiously, " always has a chance as long 
 as he 's able to swear. It 's like a horse wiggling his 
 ears." 
 
 The comparison reminded her that she intended to 
 shut Kattler in the hay corral ; she dried Ward's hands 
 hastily, pulled the wolf-skins off the bed, and com- 
 manded him to keep covered until she came back. She 
 ran down bareheaded to the stable, saw Rattler indus- 
 triously boring his nose into the stack, and put up the 
 gate. 
 
 When she went into the cabin again, Ward gave a 
 start and opened his eyes like one who has been dozing. 
 Billv Louise smiled with gratification. He was better.
 
 THE HOOKIN'-COUGH MAN 305 
 
 She knew he was better. She did not speak, but went 
 over to the stove and pretended to be busy there, though 
 she was careful to make no noise. When she turned 
 finally and glanced toward the bed, Ward was asleep. 
 
 Billy Louise took a deep breath, tiptoed over" to the 
 bench beside the table, sat down, and pillowed her head 
 on her folded arms. She wanted to cry, and she needed 
 to think, and she was deadly, deadly tired.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE WOLF JOKE 
 
 BILLY LOUISE stayed all night. She was afraid 
 to leave Ward until his cold was safely better, 
 and there was no one living near enough to summon; 
 no one whom she wanted to summon, in fact, however 
 close they might have been. She spent most of the 
 night curled comfortably on the wolf-skins beside the 
 stove, with a sack of flour for a pillow and Ward's fur 
 coat for covering. Ward slept more unbrokenly than 
 he had done for a long time, while Billy Louise lay 
 cuddled under the smelly fur and thought and thought. 
 
 In ,the morning, if Ward were well enough, she meant 
 to ask him about those cattle he had mentioned when 
 he thought her Buck Olney. They were the same ones 
 which she had seen in the Cove, she knew. Ward had 
 told enough to prove that. He had, in fact, told nearly 
 all she needed to know except the mystery of his 
 prosperity. He had not mentioned that, and Billy 
 Louise was more curious than ever about his " wolf 
 hunting." 
 
 At sunrise she rebuilt the fire and made fresh coffee 
 and a stew from the pieces of jerky she had soaked over- 
 night for the purpose. She wanted eggs, and bread 
 for toast, and fresh cream; but she did not have them, 
 and so she managed a very creditable breakfast for her 
 patient without these desirables.
 
 THE WOLF JOKE 807 
 
 " Say, that 's great. A fellow does n't appreciate 
 coffee and warm food until he 's eaten out of cans and 
 boxes for a month or so. You 're a great little lady, 
 Wilhemina. I wish you 'd happened along sooner 
 about six weeks sooner. I 'd have got some pleasure 
 out of my broken leg then, maybe." 
 
 " Was it did Buck Olney break it ? " Billy Louise 
 knew he had not, but she had been waiting for a chance 
 to open the subject. 
 
 " No. I broke it myself, pulling Rattler off a bank 
 into some rocks. I believe I could walk on it, doctor, 
 if you could rustle me something to use for crutches. 
 That 's what held me in bed so long. Reckon you could 
 manufacture a pair for me ? " His eyes made love. 
 " You 've done everything else." He caught her hand 
 and kissed the palm of it. " Can't the Billy part turn 
 carpenter ? " 
 
 " I '11 see. Say, Ward, do you think you could shave 
 off those whiskers if I got everything ready for you ? I 
 don't like you to look like old Sourdough. Or maybe 
 I could do it. I I used to shave daddy 's neck, some- 
 times." 
 
 Ward ran his fingers thoughtfully over his hairy 
 cheeks. " I expect I do look like a prehistoric ancestor. 
 I '11 see what I can do about it. I set my own leg ; I 
 guess I can shave myself. You 're a great doctor, Wil- 
 hemina. You knocked that cold up to a peak, all right. 
 But I don't believe you 'd better tackle barbering, 
 my dear girl." 
 
 Billy Louise pouted her lips at him. She could af- 
 ford to pout now: Ward was so like himself that she 
 did not worry over him at all. She also felt that she
 
 308 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 could afford to badger him into telling her some of 
 the things she wanted to know. 
 
 " Where did you hang Buck ? " she asked naively. 
 
 " Huh ? " Ward's eyes bored into hers with his in- 
 tent look, trying to read her thoughts. 
 
 " Where was it you hanged Buck Olney? " 
 
 " Nowhere. I put the fear of the Lord into him, 
 that 's all. How did you hear about it ? " 
 
 " From you." Billy Louise was maddeningly calm. 
 " You told me all about it yesterday. And about those 
 cattle in the corral up here. I found them yesterday 
 myself, Ward only it seems a month ago ! down 
 in the Cove." 
 
 "Did you?" 
 
 " Yes, and .1 drove them up to the corral and read 
 the riot act to Marthy and Charlie Fox " 
 
 " Huh ! What did they say ? " 
 
 " Oh, they denied it, of course ! What are we going 
 to do about it, Ward ? " 
 
 " Nothing, I guess. What did you want to do ? " 
 
 " I don't know. I don't want to hurt them, and I 
 don't want them to hurt anyone else. Do you know 
 Seabeck ? He 's an awfully square old fellow. I be- 
 lieve " An idea formed vaguely in the back of 
 Billy Louise 's mind. " I believe I could persuade 
 him " 
 
 " I believe you could persuade the devil himself, if 
 you took a notion to try," Ward affirmed sincerely, when 
 she hesitated. " What do you want to persuade him 
 into?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing, I guess ! How do you feel, Ward ? 
 We 've got to stick to the job of getting you fit to leave
 
 THE WOLF JOKE 309 
 
 here and go on down to the ranch with me. When do 
 you think you could manage to ride ? " 
 
 Ward looked longingly out of the window, just as he 
 had been looking for six weeks. " I think I could man- 
 age it now," he said doggedly, because of his- great 
 longing. " I set my own leg " 
 
 " Yes, and I 'm willing to admit you 're a wonder, 
 and have gotten the stoics beaten at their own game. 
 Still, there 's a limit to what the human body will stand. 
 I 'rn going down to tend the horses, and if you think 
 you can walk without hurting your leg, I '11 hunt some 
 forked sticks for crutches. We '11 see how you make out 
 with them, first, before we talk about riding twenty 
 miles on horseback. Besides, you'd catch more cold 
 if you went out to-day." 
 
 While she talked, her plans took definite shape in the 
 back of her mind. She took Buck Olney's knife that 
 was lying on the window-sill and went in search of 
 crutches among the willows along the creek. Forked 
 sticks were plentiful enough, but it was not so easy to 
 find two that would support even so skinny a man as 
 Ward. She compromised by cutting four that seemed 
 suitable and binding them together in couples. 
 
 When she went in with her makeshifts, Ward was sit- 
 ting upon the side of the bunk, clothed and in his right 
 mind but pitifully wobbly and ashamed of his weak- 
 ness. 
 
 " You should n't have tried to get up yet," she 
 scolded. " Do you want to be worse, so I '11 have to 
 cure you all over again ? " Then, woman-like, she pro- 
 ceeded to annul the effect by petting and sympathy. 
 
 It was while she was sitting in the one chair, padding
 
 310 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 the sticks crudely enough but effectively, that Ward, 
 gazing at her with the light of love in his eyes, thought 
 of something he had meant to tell her. 
 
 " Oh, by the way, I 've got something for you, Wil- 
 hemina," he said. " Put down that thing and come 
 over here. I want to shave before I take a try at walk- 
 ing, anyway. See here, lady-mine. How would you 
 like these strung on a gold chain ? " 
 
 From under his pillow he drew out a tobacco sack 
 and emptied the contents into her palm. " Those are 
 your Christmas present, Bill-Loo. Like 'em ? " 
 
 " Do I ! " Billy Louise held up the biggest one and 
 stared at it round-eyed. " Gold nuggets ! Where in 
 the world " 
 
 " That 's what I 'm going to tell you now you 're 
 through being just pals. Oh, I 'd have told you, any- 
 way, I reckon, only the play never came right, after 
 that first little squabble we had over it." He put an 
 arm around her, pulled her down beside him, and rubbed 
 his bristly chin over her hair. " That 's the wolf joke, 
 William. I did make a lot of money wolfing on the 
 square. I dug out a den of pups and struck a little 
 pocket of pretty rich gravel. I Ve been busy panning 
 it out all the time I could spare, till the creek froze 
 up." 
 
 " You found a gold mine ? " Billy Louise gasped. 
 " Why, whoever would have thought " 
 
 " Oh, I would n't call it a gold mine, exactly," he 
 hastened to assure her, before her imagination dazzled 
 her. " There is n't enough of it. It 's just a pocket. 
 I Ve cleaned up about eighteen hundred dollars, this 
 summer, besides these nuggets. Maybe more. Ana
 
 THE WOLF JOKE 311 
 
 there 's some left yet. I found both ends of the streak ; 
 it lies along a ledge on the side of a gully. I could n't 
 find anything except in that one streak of gravel; and 
 when that 's gone she 's done, as near as I can figure. 
 But it is n't all gone yet, lady mine. There 's e'nough 
 left to pay the preacher, anyway. That big fellow 
 I found along toward the last, just before I quit work- 
 ing." He kissed her gravely. " Poor old girl ! She 's 
 dead game, all right, and she 's kind of had the cards 
 stacked against her from the start. But things are 
 going to come easier from now on, if I 'm any prophet. 
 It 's too bad " 
 
 Billy Louise read his thought. 
 
 " Mommie looked so peaceful, Ward. At the last, 
 I mean. If I could have waked her up, I don't believe 
 I 'd have had the heart to do it. She never was very 
 happy ; you know that. She could n't seem to see the 
 happiness in little things. So many are like that. And 
 she looked happier at the last than I ever saw her 
 look before. So I 'm happier, too since yester- 
 day." 
 
 " Are you ? " Ward dropped his face against her 
 hair and held it there for a minute. It was not his 
 cold altogether that had made his voice break hoarsely 
 over those two words. 
 
 " Do you know " Billy Louise was lifting the nug- 
 gets one after the other and letting them drop to her 
 lap " happiness is like gold, Ward. We Ve got to 
 pan it out of life ourselves. If we try to steal it from 
 someone else, we pay the penalty, don't you think ? And 
 so many go looking and looking for great big chunks 
 of it all all whatever they do to it." She laughed
 
 312 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 a little at her ignorance of the technical process. " You 
 see what I mean, don't you ? We get a streak of gravel ; 
 that 's life. And we can pan out happiness if we try - 
 little nuggets and sometimes just colors but it keeps 
 us hoping and working." 
 
 " Doctor of philosophy ! " Ward kissed her hair. 
 " You 're a great little girl, all right. And I 'm the 
 buckaroo that has struck a mighty rich streak of pay 
 dirt in life, Wilhemina. I 'm panning out happiness 
 millions to the pan right now." 
 
 Billy Louise, attacked with a spasm of shyness, went 
 abruptly back to padding the makeshift crutches and 
 changed the subject. 
 
 " I 'm going home, soon as I fix you comfy," she said. 
 
 Whereupon Ward protested most strenuously and 
 did not look in the least like a man who has just an- 
 nounced himself a millionaire in happiness. 
 
 " What for ? " he demanded, after he had exhausted 
 himself to no purpose in telling her that she should 
 not leave the cabin until he could go along. 
 
 " I want eggs for you, you ungrateful beast. And 
 some bread for toast. And I want to tell Phoebe 
 and John where I am." 
 
 " You think those Injuns are going to hurt them- 
 selves worrying? I don't want any eggs and toast. 
 I 've managed all right on crackers and jerky for six 
 weeks, so I guess I can stand it a few hours longer. 
 Still, if you 're crazy to go " He dropped back on 
 the pillow and turned his face. away. 
 
 Billy Louise worked silently until she had made the 
 crutches as soft on top as she could. Then she hunted 
 for Ward's razor and shaving-cup and after one or two
 
 THE WOLF JOKE 313 
 
 failures through using too much water she man- 
 aged to make a cup of very nice lather. 
 
 " !N"ow, buckaroo, don't be a sulky kid," she said, 
 firmly as she could. " You know it 's hard enough for 
 me to go off and leave you here like this. But, as you 
 say, you 've managed to get along for six weeks with- 
 out me, so " 
 
 " Sure. I could do it again, I reckon." Ward turned 
 a gloomy pair of eyes upon her. " What 's the rush f 
 Do you think it is n't proper " 
 
 " It 's always proper to do what is right and help- 
 ful and kind," said Billy Louise with dignity, because 
 she had made up her mind and was trying not to 
 weaken. " I 've lived in this country all my life, and 
 I guess my reputation will stand this little strain," she 
 went on lightly, " even if anyone finds it out. I Ve 
 got to go, that 's all. Those people in the Cove " 
 It was eloquent of her stern justice that she could not 
 bring herself to speak them by name. 
 
 " You are n't going to turn them over to the sheriff, 
 are you, William ? Good Lord, girl \ If I can " 
 
 " Your lather is getting cold," Billy Louise said 
 evenly. " I ought to have known better than mention 
 the subject at all. I 'm going to do what 's right. I 
 believe I have some faint idea of right and wrong, 
 Ward Warren. And I 'm not going to do anything 
 that I don't feel is right, or anything that I '11 be 
 sorry for. You might trust me, I think. It's early 
 
 yet " 
 
 " You '11 come back before night, won't you ? " From 
 his tone, Ward had yielded the point and was minded 
 to yield with what graciousness he could command. It
 
 314 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 had occurred to him that he was behaving like a self- 
 ish booby. Billy Louise should not call him weak-kneed, 
 whatever happened. 
 
 " No, I don't think I can, Ward. I might send 
 John." 
 
 " You need n't bother. I don't want John." 
 
 " Well, I don't suppose he would be much comfort. 
 I '11 make a pot of coffee, Ward, and I '11 fill the lan- 
 tern and fix it so you can heat a cup when you want 
 to ; how will that be ? " She brightened a little at the 
 idea. " And I '11 fix your lungs up again before I go 
 and bake some nice, hot biscuits and put here, and but- 
 ter, and fix you just as comfy as possible. Or, if you 
 can manage to get around with the crutches, all the 
 better. I '11 leave things so you won't have to go out- 
 side for a thing. 
 
 " And, Ward " she bent over him anxiously 
 " I 'm going because I must. For all our sakes I 
 must go right away. And I '11 come back to-morrow 
 just as early as I can get here. So if you are real 
 good, and take care of your cold, and get a little strong 
 about walking, you can go back with me. And to- 
 morrow night you can sit in daddy's chair before the 
 fireplace, and we '11 have chicken and ' 
 
 " All right all right ! " Ward laughed suddenly. 
 " Will you give me a lump of sugar and let me look 
 at all the pitty pittys in the album ? Oh, you William 
 the Conqueror ! " He caught her close, when he saw 
 that he had hurt her feelings a little, and held her a 
 minute. " When I get two good legs under me, Wil- 
 hemina," he promised softly, " I 'm going to stake my- 
 self to the job of taking care of you. Your cheeks are
 
 THE WOLF JOKE 315 
 
 pretty thin, little lady-girl. Damn the luck, any- 
 way!" 
 
 " Here 's the lather. I 'm going down and saddle up," 
 said Billy Louise. " When I come back, we '11 see how 
 the crutches work." 
 
 " Oh, say ! " Ward called after her. " My saddle 's 
 behind a buck bush up along the trail where the bank 
 is cut straight. I forgot about that. And would you 
 mind bringing the looking-glass, William? How the 
 deuce do you think a man 's going to shave without 
 a glass? And that old paper to wipe the lather on, 
 while you 're at it. I see the Billy of you has n't got 
 to the shaving-point yet, at any rate ! " 
 
 Billy Louise took down the glass and flung it on 
 the bed, threw the newspaper after it, and departed 
 with her chin in the % air to find his saddle and bridle 
 and carry them to the stable. 
 
 Ward, sitting up in bed, stared at the closed door 
 remorsefully. W T hen he was convinced that she did not 
 intend to return even for the last word which is so 
 tempting to a woman, he reached for the glass, held 
 it up, and looked within. 
 
 " Sufferin' saddle blankets ! " he grunted and dropped 
 the glass. " And she could kiss a mug like that ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 "HM-MM!" 
 
 FLOYD CARSON was a somewhat phlegmatic 
 young man, but he swore an astonished oath when 
 he saw Billy Louise galloping along the lane that led 
 nowhere except to the womanless abode of Samuel Sea- 
 beck. He walked very fast to the stable, which was 
 the first logical stopping-place, and so he met Billy 
 Louise before she had time to dismount, even suppos- 
 ing she intended to do so. 
 
 " Hello, Floyd ! Is Mr. Seabeck at home ? " Billy 
 Louise was not one to waste time in the superfluities 
 of speech when she had anything on her mind. 
 
 " Sure. Get off, and I '11 put up your horse. We 're 
 just through eatin', but our grub carpenter will rustle 
 something for yuh, all right." 
 
 " No, I can't stop this time. I 'm not hungry, any- 
 way. Just give a yell for Mr. Seabeck, will you? I 
 want to see him a minute." 
 
 Floyd eyed her uncertainly, decided that Billy Louise 
 was not in the mood to yield to persuasion, and tact- 
 fully hurried off to find Seabeek without shouting for 
 him lest he bring others also, who were evidently not 
 wanted at all. He took it that Billy Louise felt some 
 diffidence about visiting a strictly bachelor outfit, and 
 he set himself to relieve her of any embarrassment. 
 
 Presently Seabeck himself came from the dirt-roofed,
 
 "HM-MM!" 317 
 
 rambling cabin which was his home and strode down 
 the path, buttoning his coat as he came. Floyd's face 
 showed for a minute in the doorway before he effaced 
 himself completely, and not another man was in sight 
 anywhere. Billy Louise was grateful to circumstance; 
 she had dreaded this visit, though not for the reason 
 Floyd Carson believed. 
 
 " How de do, Miss MacDonald ? Pretty nice day, 
 but I 'm afraid it 's a weather-breeder. The wind 's try- 
 ing to change, I notice." 
 
 " Yes, and so I must n't stop. Could you ride part 
 way home with me, Mr. Seabeck ? I want to talk 
 with you about something. And I can't stop a min- 
 ute. I must get home." 
 
 " Why, certainly, I '11 go. If you '11 wait just a min- 
 ute while I saddle up or if you 'd rather ride on, I '11 
 overtake you." 
 
 " I '11 ride on, I think. Blue hates standing around, 
 and he 's a little warm, too. You 're awfully good, Mr. 
 Seabeck " 
 
 " Oh, not at all ! " Seabeck stubbed his toe on the 
 stable doorsill in his confusion at the praise. " I '11 be 
 right along, soon as I can slap a saddle on." He disap- 
 peared, and Billy Louise turned and loped slowly down 
 the lane. 
 
 So far, so good. Billy Louise tried to believe that 
 it was all going to be as plain sailing as this fortuitous 
 beginning, but she was aware of a nervous fluttering 
 in her throat while she waited, and she knew that she 
 positively dreaded hearing Seabeck gallop up behind 
 her on the frozen trail. " Why will people do things 
 that make a lot of trouble for others ? " she cried out
 
 318 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 petulantly. And then she heard the steady pluck, 
 pluckety-pluck of Seabeck's horse, and twisted her lips 
 with a whimsical acceptance of the part she had set 
 herself to play. She might smash things, she told 
 herself, but at the worst it would be only a premature 
 smash. " Come, Bill," she adjured herself, pretending 
 it was what Ward would have said, had he looked into 
 her mind. " Be a Bill-the-Conk and a good one ! 
 Shove in your chips and play for all there is in it." 
 
 " You must have some lightning method of saddling, 
 Mr. Seabeck," she smiled over her shoulder at him when 
 he came up. 
 
 " We learn to do things quick when we 've handled 
 cattle a few years," he admitted. He had a diffident 
 manner of receiving compliments which pleased Billy 
 Louise and gave her confidence a needed brace. She 
 was not a skilled coquette; she was too honest and too 
 straightforward for that. Still, nature places certain 
 weapons in the hands of a woman, and instinct shows 
 her how to use them. Seabeck, from his very unac- 
 customedness to women, seemed to her particularly 
 pliable. Billy Louise took her courage in both hands 
 and went straight to the point. 
 
 " Mr. Seabeck, I 've always heard that you 're an 
 awfully square man," she said. " Daddy seemed to 
 think that you could be depended on in any kind of a 
 pinch. I hope it 's true. I 'm banking a lot on your 
 squareness to-day." 
 
 " Why, I don't know about my being any better than 
 my neighbors," he said, with a twinkle of humor in 
 his eyes, which were a bright, unvarying blue. " But 
 you can bank on my doing anything I can for you, Miss
 
 "HM-MM!" 319 
 
 MacDonald. I think I could be even better than 
 square to help a plucky little girl who " 
 
 " I don't mean just the ordinary squareness," Billy 
 Louise put in quietly. " I mean bigness, too ; a big- 
 ness that will make a man be more than square ; .a big- 
 ness that will let him see all around a thing and judge 
 it from a bigger viewpoint than mere justice " 
 
 " Hm-mm if you could trust me enough to " 
 
 " I 'm going to, Mr. Seabeck. I 'm going to take it 
 for granted you 're bigger than your own squareness. 
 And if you 're not if you 're just a selfish, weak, 
 letter-perfect, honest man, I '11 feel like thrashing 
 you." Without a doubt that was the Billy of her 
 which spoke. 
 
 " I '11 take the thrashing if you think I need it," 
 he promised, looking at her with something more than 
 admiration. " What have you done, Miss MacDonald ? 
 If I can help you hide the body " 
 
 " There ! " Billy Louise dared to wrinkle her nose 
 at him and I don't know which of her did it. " I 
 knew you 'd play up like a good sport. But what if it 
 is n't a body ? What if what if you found some 
 of your cattle with with a big D run over your 
 brand ? " She had a perfectly white line around her 
 mouth and nostrils then, but she faced him squarely. 
 
 " Hm-mm ! " Seabeck gave her a quick, sidewise 
 glance and pulled thoughtfully at the graying whiskers 
 that pointed his chin. " I would have been glad to 
 lend you money, or help you in any way." 
 
 " Yes, I know." Billy Louise snapped her reins im- 
 patiently. " But what would you do about the 
 cattle ? "
 
 320 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " What could I do ? What would you want me to 
 do? I should do whatever would help you. I 
 would " 
 
 " Wpuld you be as ready to help somebody else ? 
 Somebody I thought a lot of ? " 
 
 Seabeck, evidently, saw light. He cleared his throat 
 and spat gravely into a bush. " I see you don't trust 
 me, after all," he said. 
 
 " I do. I 've got to ; I mean, I 'd have to whether I 
 did or not. It 's like this, Mr. Seabeck. It is n't the 
 big D brand ; of course you knew it could n't be. But 
 it isn't yours, either. Someone was tempted and was 
 weak. They 're sorry now. They want to do the right 
 thing, and it rests with you whether they can do it. 
 You can shut them up in jail if you like; you have 
 a perfect right to do it. Some men would do that 
 and be able to sleep after it, I suppose. But I be- 
 lieve you 're bigger than that. I believe you 're big 
 enough to see that if a person goes wrong and then 
 sees the mistake and wants to pull back into the straight 
 trail, a man even the one who has been wronged 
 would be committing a moral crime to prevent it. To 
 take a person who wants to make a fresh, honest start, 
 and shut that person up amongst criminals and brand 
 him as a criminal, seems to me a worse wrong than to 
 steal a few head of cattle; don't you think so, Mr. 
 Seabeck?" 
 
 What Mr. Seabeck thought did not immediately ap- 
 pear in speech. He was pulling a little harder at his 
 whiskers and staring at the ears of his horse. 
 
 " That would depend on the person," he said at last. 
 " Some men are born criminals."
 
 "HM-MM!" 321 
 
 " Oh, we are n't talking about that kind of a man. 
 Surely to goodness you don't call Charlie Fox a born 
 criminal, or Marthy Meilke ? " 
 
 " Charlie Fox ! Is that the person you mean, who 
 has been " 
 
 " Yes, it is ! And he is horribly sorry, and so is 
 Marthy, and they '11 pay you for the cattle. And if 
 you do anything mean about it, it will simply kill poor 
 old Marthy. You could n't send her to the pen, Mr. 
 Seabeck. Think how she 's worked there in the Cove ; 
 and Charlie has worked like a perfect slave; and he 
 was trying to get a start so he could get mar- 
 ried " 
 
 " Hm-mm ! " Eumors had reached Seabeck, thanks 
 to Billy Louise's dropped lashes upon a certain occa- 
 sion, which caused him to believe he saw further 
 light. 
 
 " And if you 're going to be horrid " 
 
 " Will the lady he wants to marry give him an- 
 other chance ? " 
 
 " Don't you think she ought to if she 1-loves him ? " 
 Billy Louise studied the skyline upon the side farthest 
 from Seabeck. 
 
 '" You say he wants to pay for the cattle and " 
 
 " He '11 do anything he can to make amends," said 
 Billy Louise, with conviction. a He '11 take his medi- 
 cine and go to jail if you insist," she added sorrow- 
 fully. " It will ruin his whole life, of course, and 
 break a couple of women's hearts, but " 
 
 " It 's a bad thing, a mighty bad thing, when a man 
 tries to get ahead too fast." 
 
 " It 's a good thing when he learns the lesson with-
 
 322 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 out having to pay for it with his whole future," Billy 
 Louise amended the statement. 
 
 Seabeck smiled a little behind his fingers that kept 
 tugging at his whiskers. , 
 
 " Did Charlie Fox send Miss Portia " 
 
 " He does n't know I had any intention of coming/' 
 Billy Louise assured him quickly and with perfect 
 truth. " They '11 both be awfully surprised when they 
 find it out " which was also perfectly true " and 
 when they see you ride up, they '11 think you Ve got 
 the sheriff at your back. I have n't a doubt they " 
 
 " There are a few points I 'd like to clear up, if you 
 can help me," Seabeck interrupted. " All this rustling 
 that has been going on for the past year and a half: 
 are Fox and the Meilke woman mixed up in that? I 
 want," he said, " to help the young man and her. 
 But if they have been operating on a large scale, I 'm 
 afraid " 
 
 " I believe Charlie must have been influenced in some 
 ways by bad acquaintances," Billy Louise answered 
 more steadily than she felt. " But his rustling 
 has been of a petty kind. I won't apologize for him, 
 Mr. Seabeck. I think it 's perfectly awful, what he 
 has done. But I think it would be more awful still 
 not to give him a chance. The other rustling is some 
 outside gang, I 'm sure. If Charlie was mixed up 
 with them, it 's very slightly just enough to damn 
 him utterly if he were arrested and tried. He is n't a 
 natural criminal. He 's just weak. And he 's learned 
 his lesson. It 's up to you, Mr. Seabeck, to say whether 
 he shall have a chance to profit by the lesson. And 
 there 's poor old Marthy in it, too. She just worships
 
 "HM-MM!" 323 
 
 Charlie and would do anything even steal for 
 him." 
 
 Seabeck meditated for a mile, and Billy Louise 
 watched him uneasily from the tail of her eye. To 
 tell the plain truth, she was in a panic of fear at what 
 she had done. It had looked so simple and so prac- 
 ticable when she had planned it; and now when the 
 words were out and the knowledge had reached Sea- 
 beck and was beyond her control, she could not think 
 of any good reason for telling him. 
 
 Last night, when she lay curled up by the stove un- 
 der * Ward's wolf-skin coat, this seemed the only pos- 
 sible way out: To tell Seabeck and trust to his kind- 
 ness and generosity to refrain from pushing the case. 
 To have Charlie Fox give back what he had stolen 
 or pay for it anything that would satisfy Seabeck's 
 sense of justice and let him start honestly. She 
 had thought that Seabeck would be merciful, if she 
 told him in the right way; but now, when she stole 
 a glance at his bent, brooding face, she was fright- 
 ened. He did not look merciful, but stern and angry. 
 She remembered then that stealing cattle is the one 
 crime a cattleman finds it hard to forgive. 
 
 Billy Louise might have spared herself some mental 
 anguish if she could have known that Seabeck was 
 brooding over the wonder of a woman's love that par- 
 dons and condones a man's sins. He was wishing that 
 such a love as Billy Louise's had come to him, and 
 ho was wondering how a man could be tempted to go 
 wrong when such a girl loved him. He was laboring 
 under a misapprehension, of course. Billy Louise had 
 permitted him to misunderstand her interest in the
 
 324 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 matter. If he had known that she was pleading solely 
 for Marthy poor, avaricious, gray, old Marthy 
 perhaps his mercy would have been less tinged with 
 that smoldering resentment which was directed not o 
 much at the wrongdoer, as at fate which had cheated 
 him. 
 
 "I'm glad you came and told me this," he said at 
 last. " Very glad, indeed, Miss MacDonald. Certain 
 steps have been taken lately to push this wipe out 
 this rustling and general lawlessness, and if you had 
 not told me, I 'm afraid the mills of justice would 
 have ground your friends. Of course the law would 
 be merciful to Mrs. Meilke. No jury would send an 
 old woman like that By the way, that breed they 
 have had working for them he is in the deal, too; 1 
 take it." 
 
 " Yes, of course. They had to have someone to help. 
 Marthy can't do any riding." Billy Louise spoke with 
 a dreary apathy that betrayed how the reaction had set 
 in. " She stayed in the Cove, in case anyone came 
 prowling down there. It seems there 's a wire fastened 
 to the gate, and it rings a bell down at the house 
 somewhere when the gate is opened. And besides that 
 she had a dog that would tackle strangers. I don't 
 believe," she went on, after a little silence, il that 
 Marthy would have turned dishonest for herself. She 
 was grasping, and all she cared for was getting ahead. 
 It sort of grew on her, after the years of trying 
 to dig a bare living out of the ground. I can un- 
 derstand that; and I can see how she would go to any 
 length almost for Charlie. But " 
 
 " Well, let 's not think any more about them until
 
 "HM-MM!" 325 
 
 we have to." There was a certain crude attempt at 
 soothing her anxieties. " You J ve trusted me, Miss Mac- 
 Donald. I '11 try and not disappoint you in the mat- 
 ter, though, unless they are quite separate from the 
 gang which is being run down, it may be hard -to pro- 
 tect them. Do you know whether any other cow- 
 man has suffered from their mm-mm haste to get 
 rich?" 
 
 " I don't think there 's anyone but you," Billy Louise 
 replied lifelessly. 
 
 " Hm-mm do you know, Miss MacDonald, whether 
 there was any intimacy between your friends and 
 the man we had for stock inspector, Mr. Olney ? " 
 
 "I can't say, as to that." Billy Louise, you see, 
 did not know much about details, but the little she did 
 know made her hedge. 
 
 " There 's a queer story about Olney. You know he 
 has left the country, don't you ? It seems he rode very 
 hurriedly up to the depot at Wilmer to take the train. 
 Just as he stepped on, a fellow who knew him by sight 
 noticed a piece of paper pinned on the back of his coat. 
 He jerked it loose. It was a m-m very peculiar 
 document for a man to be wearing on his back." Sea- 
 beck pulled at his whiskers, but it was not the pulling 
 which quirked the corners of his lips. " The man said 
 Olney seemed greatly upset over something and had 
 evidently forgotten the paper until he felt it being pulled 
 loose. He said Olney looked back then, and he was 
 the color of a pork-rind. The train was pulling out. 
 The man took the paper over to a saloon and let sev- 
 eral others read it. They mm-mm decided that 
 it should be placed in the hands of the authorities.
 
 326 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Have m-m your friends ever mentioned the 
 matter to you ? " 
 
 " No," said Billy Louise, and her eyes were wide. 
 
 " Hm-mm ! We must discover, if we can, Miss Mac- 
 Donald, whether they are in any way implicated with 
 this man Olney. I believe that this is at present more 
 important than the recovery of any m-m cattle of 
 mine which they may have appropriated." 
 
 Billy Louise looked at him for a minute. " Mr. 
 Seabeck, you 're awfully dear about this ! " she told 
 him. " I have n't been as square as you ; and I 've 
 been Listen here, Mr. Seabeck ! I don't love Char- 
 lie Fox a bit. I love somebody else, and I 'm going 
 to marry him. He 's so square, I 'd hate to have him 
 think I even let you believe something that was n't true. 
 It 's Marthy I 'm thinking of, Mr. Seabeck. I was 
 afraid you would n't let Charlie off just for her sake, 
 but I thought maybe if you just thought I wanted 
 you to do it for mine, why, maybe with two women 
 to be sorry for, you 'd kind of " 
 
 "Hm-mm!." Seabeck sent her a keen, blue, twin- 
 kling glance that made Billy Louise turn hot all over 
 with shame and penitence. " Hm-mm ! " he said again 
 if one can call that a saying and pulled at his" gray- 
 ing whiskers. " Hm-mmm ! "
 
 CHAPTEE XXVII 
 
 MAETHY 
 
 BILLY LOUISE led the way down the gorge, 
 'through the meadow, and along the orchard to the 
 little gate. The Cove seemed empty and rather forlorn, 
 with the wind creeping up the river and rattling the 
 dry branches of the naked fruit trees. Not much more 
 than twenty-four hours had slid into the past since 
 Billy Louise had galloped away from the place, yet 
 she felt vaguely that life had taken a big stride here 
 since she last saw it. Nothing was changed, though, 
 as far as she could see. A few cattle fed in the meadow 
 next the river, a fattening hog lifted himself from his 
 bed of straw and grunted at them as they passed. A 
 few chickens were hunting fishworms in the thawed 
 places of the garden, and a yellow cat ran creepingly 
 along the top rail of the nearest corral, crouched there 
 with digging claws and pounced down into a flock of 
 snowbirds. A drift of dead apple leaves stirred un- 
 easily beside the footpath through the berry bushes. 
 Billy Louise started nervously and glanced over her 
 shoulder at Seabeck. For some reason she wanted the 
 comfort of his presence. She waited until he came 
 up to her tall, straight like a soldier, and silent as 
 the Cove itself. 
 
 " I 'm scared," said Billy Louise. She did not
 
 328 RANCH AT HE WOLVERINE 
 
 smile either when she said it. "I hate empty-feeling 
 places. I'm afraid of emptiness." 
 
 " Yet you are always riding alone in the hills." Sea- 
 beck looked down at her with a puzzled expression in 
 his eyes. 
 
 " The hills are n't empty," she told him impatiently. 
 " They 're just big and quiet. This is " She flung 
 out a hand and did not try to find a word for what 
 she felt. 
 
 " Shall I go first ? I thought you would rather 
 
 " I would." Billy Louise pulled herself together, 
 angry at her sudden impulse to run, as she had run 
 from Ward's quiet cabin. She remembered that un- 
 reasoning panic was it really only yesterday ? and 
 went steadily up the path and across the little ditch 
 which Marthy had dug. Why must sordid trouble 
 and dull misery hang over a beauty-spot like this ? $he 
 thought resentfully. 
 
 She stopped for a minute on the doorstep, hesitat- 
 ing before she opened the door. Behind her, Seabeck 
 drew close as if he would shield her from something; 
 perhaps he, too, felt the deadly quiet and emptiness of* 
 the place. 
 
 Billy Louise opened the door and stepped into the 
 kitchen. She stopped and stood still, so that her slim 
 figure would have hidden the interior from the eyes 
 of Seabeck had he not been so tall. As it was, she barred 
 his way so that he must stand on the step outside. 
 
 By the kitchen table, with her elbows on the soiled 
 oilcloth, sat Marthy. Her uncombed hair hung in 
 wisps about her head ; her hard old face was lined and 
 gray, her hard eyes dull with brooding. Billy Louise,
 
 MARTHY 329 
 
 staring at her from the doorway, knew that Marthy had 
 been sitting like that for a long, long time. 
 
 She went over to her diffidently. Hesitatingly she 
 laid her gauntleted hand on Marthy 's stooped shoul- 
 der. She did not say anything. Marthy did not move 
 under her touch, except to turn her dull glance upon 
 Seabeck, standing there on the doorstep. 
 
 " C'm in," she said stolidly. " What 'd yuh come 
 ferf" 
 
 " Miss MacDonald will perhaps explain " 
 
 " She ain't got nothin' to explain," said hard old 
 Marthy with grim finality. " I '11 do what explaining 
 to be done. C'm in. Don't stand there like a stump. 
 And shut the door. It 's cold as a barn here, any- 
 way." 
 
 " Oh, Marthy ! " cried Billy Louise, with the sound 
 of tears in her voice. 
 
 " Don't oh Marthy me," said the harsh voice flatly. 
 " I don't want no Marthyin' nor no sympathy. Well, 
 old man, you 're here to colleck, I s'pose. Take what 's 
 in sight ; 'tain't none of it yourn, far 's I know, but 
 anything you claim you kin have, fer all me. I 've lived 
 honest all my days an' worked fer what I got. I 've 
 harbored thieves in my old age and trusted them that 
 wa' n't fit to/ be trusted. I Ve allus paid my debts, Sea- 
 beck. I 'm willin' to pay now fer bein' a fool." 
 
 " W-where 's Charlie ? " Billy Louise leaned and 
 whispered the question. 
 
 " I d' no, and I don't care. He 's pulled out him 
 an' that breed. I '11 have t' pay yuh for seven growed 
 cattle I never seen till yist'day, Seabeck. You can set 
 yer own price on 'em. I ain't sure, but I 've got an
 
 330 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 idee they was shot las' night an' dumped in the river. 
 You c'n set yer price. I 've got rheumatiz so bad I 
 could n't go V put a stop to nothin' but 
 
 " Oh, Marthy ! " Billy Louise was shivering and 
 crying now. " Marthy ! Don't be so so hard. It 
 was all Charlie " 
 
 " Yes," said Marthy harshly, " it was all Charlie. 
 He was a thief, an' I was sech a simple-minded old fool 
 I never knowed what he was. I let him go ahead, an' 
 I set in the house with a white apurn tied on me an' 
 thought I was havin' an easy time. I set here and let 
 him rob my neighbors that I ain't never harmed er 
 cheated out of a cent, and soon 's he thought he was 
 found out, he left ole Marthy to look after herself. 
 Never so much as fed the hogs or done the milkin' 
 first ! Looky here, Seabeck ! You '11 git paid back, 
 an' I '11 take your figgers fer what I owe, but if you 
 git after Charlie, I '11 kill yuh. You let 'im go. 
 I 'm the one he hurt most and I ain't goin' " She 
 laid her frowsy old head on her arms, like one who is 
 utterly crushed and dumb. 
 
 " Oh, Marthy ! " Billy Louise knelt and threw her 
 arms around Marthy's shoulders. 
 
 " You 've got to come and lie down, Marthy," said 
 Billy Louise, after a long, unbroken silence. 
 
 " Mr. Seabeck, if you '11 start a fire. I '11 make some 
 tea for her. Come, Marthy just to please me. Do 
 it for Billy Louise, Marthy." 
 
 The old woman rose stiffly, and with a feebleness that 
 seemed utterly foreign to her usual energy, permitted 
 Billy Louise to lead her from the kitchen. In the sit- 
 ting-room that Charlie had built and furnished for her,
 
 MARTHY 331 
 
 Marthy lay and stared around her with that same dull 
 apathy she had shown from the first. Only once did 
 she manifest any real emotion, and that was when Billy 
 Louise came in with some tea and toast. 
 
 " You take all them books outa them shelves an' burn 
 'em up," she commanded. " An' you take them two 
 pictures off'n that shelf, of him an' her, an' bring 
 'em t' me." 
 
 Billy Louise set the toast and tea down on a chair and 
 brought the pictures. She did not say a word, but she 
 looked a little scared and her eyes were very big, just 
 as they had been when Ward mistook her for Buck Olney 
 and so let her see into another one of the dark places 
 of life. It seemed to Billy Louise that she was being 
 compelled to look into a good many dark places, lately. 
 
 Marthy took the two photographs and looked at the 
 first with hatred. " The Jezebel ! She won't git to run 
 it over ole Marthy," she muttered with sullen triumph 
 and twisted the cardboard spitefully in her gnarled old 
 fingers. " She can't come here an' take all I 've got 
 an' never give me a thankye for it. I 'm shet uh her, 
 anyway." She twisted again and yet again, till the pic- 
 ture was a handful of ragged scraps of cardboard. Then 
 she raised herself to an elbow and flung the frag- 
 ments far from her and lay down again with glum 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Her fingers touched the other picture, which had slid 
 to the couch. Mechanically she picked it up and held 
 it so that the light from the window struck it full. 
 This was Charlie's face Charlie with the falsely 
 frank smile in his eyes, and with his lips curved as 
 they did when he was just going to say, " IsTow, Aunt
 
 332 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Martha ! " in tender protest against her too eager 
 industry. 
 
 Marthy's chin began to quiver while she looked. Her 
 lips sagged with the pull of her aching heart. For the 
 third time in her life Billy Louise saw big, slow tears 
 gather in Marthy's hard blue eyes and slide down the 
 leathery seams in her cheeks. Billy Louise looked, 
 found her vision blurring with her own tears, and 
 turned and tiptoed from the room. 
 
 Seabeck was gone somewhere on his horse. Billy 
 Louise guessed shrewdly that he was down in the 
 meadows, looking over the cattle and trying to estimate 
 the extent of the thievery. She put Blue in the stable 
 and fed him, with that half -mechanical habit of attend- 
 ing to the needs of one's mount which becomes second 
 nature to the range-bred. She would not go on to the 
 [Wolverine; that needed no decision; she accepted it 
 at once as a fact. Marthy needed her now more than 
 anyone. More even than Ward, though Billy Louise 
 hated to think of him up there alone and practically 
 helpless. But Marthy must have her to-night. Marthy 
 was facing her bitterest sorrow since Minervy died, and 
 Marthy was old. Ward, Billy Louise reminded herself 
 sternly, was not old, and he was facing happiness 
 so far as he or anyone knew. She wanted very much 
 to be with Ward, but she could not delude her con- 
 science into believing that he needed her more than did 
 Marthy. 
 
 Seabeck returned after awhile, and Billy Louise, who 
 was watching from the doorway, met him at the little 
 gate as he was coming up to the house. 
 
 " Well, how bad is it, Mr. Seabeck ? " she asked
 
 MARTHY 333 
 
 sharply, just because she felt the imperative need 
 of facts she who had struggled so long in the quick- 
 sands of suspicion and doubts and fears and suspense. 
 
 " Hmm-mm how bad is it in the house ? " he 
 countered. " The real crime has been committed there, 
 it seems to me. A few head of cattle, more or less, 
 don't count for much against the broken heart of an 
 Id woman." 
 
 " Oh ! " Billy Louise, her hands clenched upon the 
 gate, stared up wide-eyed into his face. And this was 
 the real Seabeck, whom she had known impersonally all 
 her life! This was the real man of him, whom she 
 had never known; a flawless diamond of a soul behind 
 those bright blue eyes and that pointed, graying beard ; 
 poet, philosopher, gentleman to the bone. " Oh! You 
 saw that, too ! And they 're your cattle that were 
 stolen ! You saw it oh, you 're you 're " 
 
 " Hmm-mm a human being, I hope, Miss MacDon- 
 ald, as well as a mere cattleman. How is the old lady ? " 
 
 " Crying," said Billy Louise, with brief directness. 
 " Crying over the picture of that swine. Think of 
 his running off and leaving her here all alone and 
 not even doing the chores first ! " (Here, you must 
 know, was broken an unwritten law of the ranch.) 
 " And Marthy 's got rheumatism, too, so she can hardly 
 walk " 
 
 " I '11 attend to the chores, Miss MacDonald." Sea- 
 beck's lips quirked under the fingers that pulled at his 
 whiskers. " You say over his picture ? " 
 
 " Yes, over his picture ! " Billy Louise spoke with a 
 suppressed fury. " With that honest look in his eyes 
 oh, I could kill him!"
 
 334 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " Hmm-mm it does seem a pity that one can't. 
 But if she can cry " 
 
 " I see. You believe too that tears are a necessary 
 kind of weakness for a woman, like smoking tobacco 
 is for a man or swearing. Well, I can just tell you, 
 Mr. Seabeck, that some tears pull the very soul 
 out of a person ; they 're the red-hot pinchers of the 
 torture-chamber of life, Mr. Seabeck. Every single, 
 slow tear that Marthy sheds right now is taking that 
 much away from her life. Why, she she idolized 
 that that devil. She had n't much that was lovable in 
 poor old Jarse ; he was just her husband ; he was n't even 
 a real man. And she never had any children to love, 
 except a little girl that died. And she 's worked here 
 and scrimped and saved till she got just fairly com- 
 fortable, and then Charlie Fox came and patted her on 
 the back and called her a game little lady, and poor 
 old Marthy just poured out all the love and all the 
 trust she had in her, on him ! And she 's old, and she 
 had starved all her life for a little love a little affec- 
 tion and a few kind words. I don't suppose Jase kissed 
 her once in twenty years ; I could n't imagine him get- 
 ting up steam enough to kiss anybody! And Charlie 
 petted her and did little things for her that nobody- 
 had ever done in her life. It meant a whole lot to 
 Marthy to have a man take the water bucket away from 
 her and give her a little hug and tell her she must n't 
 think of carrying water ; oh, you 're a man, and I don't 
 suppose you can realize ; I did n't myself, till lately - 
 Billy Louise blushed and then twisted her lips, wonder- 
 ing if love had taught her all this. 
 
 " And so Marthy just leaned more and more on him
 
 MARTHY 335 
 
 and let him take care of her and pet her; land she 
 never once dreamed he was doing anything crooked. I 
 thought she did, I know, Mr. Seabeck. I thought she 
 was in it, too ; but I see now that Marthy has been liv- 
 ing the woman in her, these last two years ; she 'd never 
 had a chance before. And now to have him to know he 's 
 just a common thief and to have him go off and leave 
 her Mr. Seabeck, I 'd be willing to bet all I 've got 
 that Marthy would have forgiven his stealing cattle, if 
 he had just stayed. She 'd have done anything on earth 
 for him ; and the bigger the sacrifice she made for him, 
 the more she would have loved him; women are like 
 that. But to have him go off and leave her and 
 not bother his head about what happened to her, just 
 so he got out of it Mr. Seabeck, that 's going to kill 
 Marthy. It 's going to kill her by inches." 
 
 "I see," he assented, looking thoughtfully at the 
 flushed face and big, shining eyes of Billy Louise. (I 
 wonder if Seabeck was not thinking how he had known 
 Billy Louise impersonally all her life and yet had never 
 met the real Billy Louise until to-day!) 
 
 " And yet," she added bitterly, " she 's going to pro- 
 tect him if it takes every cent she 's managed to rake 
 together these last thirty years. You heard what she 
 told you. She said she 'd kill you if you hurt Charlie. 
 She 'd try it, too." 
 
 " Hmm-mm, yes ! My life has been threatened sev- 
 eral times to-day." Seabeck looked at her with eyes 
 a-twinkle, and Billy Louise blushed to the crown of her 
 Stetson hat. " Do you think, Miss MacDonald, she 
 would feel like talking business for a few minutes ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; if she 's like me, she '11 want to get the
 
 336 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 agony over with." Billy Louise turned with a twitch 
 of the shoulders. She felt chilled, somehow. She had 
 not quite expected that Seabeck would want to talk 
 about his stolen stock at all. She had rather taken 
 it for granted that he would let that subject lie quiet 
 for awhile. Oh, well, he was a cattleman, after all. 
 
 Marthy did not attempt to rise when Seabeck followed 
 Billy Louise into the sitting-room. She caught up her 
 apron and wiped her eyes and her nose, however, and 
 she also slid Charlie's picture under the cheap cushion. 
 After that she faced Seabeck with harsh composure 
 and waited for the settlement. 
 
 " Hm-mm ! I have been looking over the cattle," he 
 began, sitting on the edge of a chair and turning his 
 black hat absently round and round by the brim. " You 
 inm-mm you tell me there were seven head of 
 grown stock " 
 
 " That they shot and throwed in the river, with the 
 brands cut out," interpolated Marthy stolidly. " I 
 heard 'em say that 's how they would git rid of 'em, 
 an' I heard 'em shootin' down there." 
 
 " Hmm-mm, yes ! Do you know just what " 
 
 " Five dry cows 'n' two steers long two-year-oles, 
 I j edged 'em to be." Marthy was certainly prompt 
 enough and explicit enough. And her lips were grim, 
 and her faded blue eyes hard and steady upon the face 
 of Seabeck. 
 
 " Hmm-mm yes ! I find also," he went on in 
 his somewhat precise voice that had earned him the 
 nickname of " Deacon " among his punchers, " that 
 there are more young stock vented and rebranded than 
 I er sold your nephew. Fourteen head, to be ex-
 
 MARTHY 33? 
 
 act. With the cattle you tell me which were mm-m 
 disposed of last night, that would make twenty-one 
 head of stock for which mm-mm I take it you are 
 willing to pay." 
 
 " I ain't got the money now," Marthy stated, too 
 apathetic to be either defiant or placating. " You c'n 
 fix up the papers t' suit yerself. I '11 sign anything 
 yuh want." 
 
 " Hmm-mm yes ! A note covering the amount, 
 with legal rate of interest, will be quite satisfactory, 
 Mrs. Meilke. I shall make a lump sum at the going 
 price for mixed stock. If you have a blank note, I " 
 
 " You kin look in that desk over there," permitted 
 Marthy. " If yuh don't find any there, there ain't none 
 nowhere." 
 
 Seabeck did not find any blank notes. He found an 
 eloquent confusion of jumbled letters and accounts and 
 papers, and guessed that the owner had done some hasty 
 sorting and straightening of his affairs. He sighed, 
 and his blue eyes hardened for a minute. Then Billy 
 Louise moved from the door and went over to kneel 
 comfortingly beside Marthy, and Seabeck looked at 
 the two and sighed again, though his eyes were no 
 longer stern. He pulled a sheet of paper toward him 
 and wrote steadily in a prim, upright chirography that 
 had never a flourish anywhere, but carefully crossed 
 t's and carefully dotted i's and punctuation marks of 
 beautiful exactness. 
 
 " You will please sign here, Mrs. Meilke," he said 
 calmly, coming over to them with the sheet of paper 
 laid smoothly upon a last-year's best-seller and with 
 Charlie's fountain pen in his other hand. " And if
 
 338 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 Miss MacDonald will also sign, as an endorser, I think 
 I can safely do away with any mortgage or other legal 
 security." 
 
 Billy Louise stood up and gave him one look which 
 Seabeck did not appreciate, because he did not see it. 
 
 " I 'd ruther give a mortgage," Marthy said uneasily, 
 sitting up suddenly and looking from one to the other. 
 " I don't want Billy Louise to git tangled up in my 
 troubles. She 's got plenty of her own. Her maw 's just 
 died, Mr. Seabeck. And I '11 bet there was a hospital 
 'n' doctor's bill bigger 'n this cattle note, to be paid. I 
 don't want to pile on " 
 
 " Now, Marthy, you be still. I 'm perfectly willing 
 to sign this note with you. If it will satisfy Mr. Sea- 
 beck, I 'm sure it 's the very least we can do or 
 expect." Billy Louise, bless her heart, was trying very 
 hard to be grateful to Seabeck in spite of the slump 
 he had suffered in her estimation. 
 
 " Well, I '11 want your written word that yuh won't 
 prosycute Charlie nor help nobody else prosycute him," 
 stipulated Marthy, with sudden shrewdness. " If me 'n 
 Billy Louise signs this note, we '11 pay it ; and we want 
 some pertection from you, fer Charlie." 
 
 " Hmm-mm I see ! " He turned and went back 
 to the littered desk and wrote carefully again upon an- 
 other sheet of paper. " I think this will be quite satis- 
 factory," he said, and handed the paper to Marthy. 
 
 " Git my specs, Billy Louise off 'n the shelf over 
 there," she said, and read the paper laboriously, her 
 lips forming the letters of every word which contained 
 more than one syllable. Marthy, remember, was a 
 plainswoman born and bred.
 
 MARTHY 339 
 
 " I guess that '11 do," she pronounced at last, push- 
 ing the spectacles up on her lined forehead. " You read 
 it, Billy Louise, 'n' see what yuh think." 
 
 " I think it 's all right, Marthy," said Billy Louise, 
 after she had read the document twice. " It 's a bill of 
 sale; and it also wipes the slate clean of any pos- 
 sible I think Mr. Seabeck is very c-clever." 
 
 Whereupon Marthy signed the note, with a splut-^ 
 tering of the abused pen in her stiffened old fingers and 
 a great twisting of her grim mouth as she formed the 
 capitals. Then Billy Louise wrote her name with a 
 fine, schoolgirl ease and a little curl on the end of the 
 last d. Seabeck took the paper from the tips of Billy 
 Louise's supercilious fingers, returned with it to the 
 desk for a blotter, hunted an envelope, folded the note 
 carefully, and laid it away inside. 
 
 " I believe that is all, Mrs. Meilke. I hope you will 
 suffer no further uneasiness on account of your 
 nephew." 
 
 " I 'm liable t' suffer some gittin' that five hundred 
 
 dollars paid up," Marthy returned with some acerbity. 
 
 1 " I 'm much obleeged to yuh, Mr. Seabeck, fer bein' 
 
 so easy on us. If yuh had n't drug Billy Louise into 
 
 it, I 'd say yer too good to be human." 
 
 " Hmm-mm not at all," Seabeck stammered depre- 
 catingly and left the room with what haste his natural 
 dignity would permit. 
 
 That ended the Seabeck part of the whole sordid af- 
 fair, except that he remained for another hour, doing 
 chores and making everything snug for the night. Also 
 he filled the kitchen woodbox as high as he could pile 
 the sticks and brought water to last overnight since
 
 Charlie 's plan to pipe water into the cabin had re- 
 mained a beautiful plan and nothing more. Billy 
 Louise thanked Seabeck, when he was ready to go. 
 
 " I knew you were square, and you 're really big- 
 souled, too. I '11 remember it always, Mr. Seabeck." 
 
 " Will you ? " Seabeck looked down at her, with his 
 hand upon the latch. " Even if you are put in a posi- 
 tion where you must pay that note you will still - 
 Hm-mm! I see. Before I go, Miss MacDonald, I 
 should like your permission to send a man down here 
 to look after things." 
 
 " No, you must n't." Billy Louise spoke with prompt 
 decision. " Marthy might think you were you see, 
 it would n't do. I '11 see about getting a man. If you 
 will take this note up and leave it in the mail-box for 
 me, John Pringle will come up to-morrow. We '11 man- 
 age all right." 
 
 " You 're quite right. But, Miss MacDonald, there 
 is something else. I er should like to give you a 
 little wedding gift, since you honored me with the 
 news of your approaching mm-m marriage. As an 
 old neighbor, and one of your most sincere admirers, 
 who would feel greatly honored by your friendship, I 
 should like to have you accept this " He held 
 something out to Billy Louise and pulled open the door 
 for instant escape. " Good night, Miss MacDonald. I 
 think it will storm." Then he was gone, hurrying down 
 the narrow path with long strides, his tall figure bent 
 to the wind, his coat flapping around his lean legs. 
 
 Billy Louise closed the door and her half-open mouth 
 and let down her lifted eyelids. Standing with her 
 back against the wall, she turned that something
 
 MARTHY 341 
 
 an enyelepe over twice, then tore off the end and 
 pulled out the contents. It was the note she and Marthy 
 had signed no longer than an hour ago, and written 
 large across the face of it were the words : " Paid, Sam- 
 uel Seabeck." 
 
 " The old darling ! " said Billy Louise under 
 her breath and went straight in to show it to Marthy.
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIII 
 
 % 
 
 ALL SIGHT AND COMFY 
 
 SEABECK was a fine weather prophet, for that 
 time at least. It did storm that night and the 
 next day and the next ; a howling, tearing blizzard that 
 carried the snow so far and so fast that it almost wore 
 it out; so that when the spasm was over, the land lay 
 bleaker and raggeder than ever, with hard-packed drifts 
 in all the hollows and bare ground between. Of course 
 it was out of the question for Billy Louise to leave 
 the Cove while the storm lasted, so she took care of 
 Marthy and the pigs and chickens and cows, and be- 
 tween whiles she tormented herself with direful pictures 
 of Ward up there alone on Mill Creek. Sometimes she 
 saw him raving in fever and wanting a drink which he 
 could not get, so that thirst tortured him; then calling 
 for her, when she could not come. Sometimes she saw 
 him trying to hobble somewhere on those crutches, and 
 falling exhausted breaking more bones, perhaps; or 
 catching more cold, or something. She was a most 
 distressed Billy Louise, believe me, and she wished a 
 hundred times a day that she had stayed with Ward ; 
 she wished that, in spite of Marthy's need of her. She 
 was terribly sorry for Marthy; but Marthy had not 
 broken any leg, and besides, she was not in love with 
 Marthy. 
 
 On the second day John Pringle battled through the
 
 ALL RIGHT AND COMFY 343 
 
 V 
 
 storm to see what Billy Louise would have him do. 
 And Billy Louise gave him instructions about finding 
 a man and sending him up to the Cove at once, and 
 looking after tke Wolverine ranch until she eame 1 and 
 having Phoebe send up some clothes for her. She felt 
 better when she had set the wheels in motion again, 
 and as she stood in the door and watched John's broad, 
 stolid back out of sight on his homeward journey, she. 
 made up her mind that she would start at daylight for 
 Mill Creek, and she did n't care whether it stormed 
 or not. She simply would not leave Ward there alone 
 any longer. She almost wished that she had told Sea- 
 beck about Ward; he would have sent a man over to 
 look after him. But she was selfish, and she wanted 
 Ward to herself; so she had not so much as mentioned 
 his name to Seabeck. 
 
 She milked tke two cows by lantern light, next morn- 
 ing; and the pigs did not seem to want to leave their 
 nests when she poured their breakfast into the trough 
 by the wavering light she carried. She made coffee 
 for Marthy and took it to her in bed, and told her that 
 she would leave plenty of wood and kindling, and that 
 Marthy must sleep as long as she could and not worry 
 about a single, living thing. She said she must get 
 an early start, because it might be " bad going " and 
 she meant to bring Ward back with her if he were able 
 to travel at all. 
 
 " I can't be in two places at once, Marthy, so if you 
 don't mind, I '11 bring him down here where I can look 
 after the two of you at the same time. You '11 let me, 
 won't you ! Or else," she added hopefully, " I '11 take 
 you both down home. Would you rather "
 
 344 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " I 'd ruther stay here where I b'long," said Marthy 
 dully. " But I don't want you should go t' any trouble 
 about me, Billy Louise. I 've rustled fer m'self all 
 my life, and I guess I kin yit. If it wa'n't fer my rheu- 
 matiz, I 'd ask no odds of anybody. I ain't goin' t' 
 leave, anyway. Charlie might come back, er ' 
 
 " Well, you need n't leave." Billy Louise told her- 
 self that she was not disappointed, because she had not 
 hoped to persuade Marthy to leave the Cove. " You 
 don't mind if I bring Ward down here, do you, 
 Marthy ?" 
 
 " No, I don't mind nothin' you kin do," said Marthy 
 in the same dull tone, pouring her saucer full of cof- 
 fee and spilling some on her pillow, because her hands 
 were not as steady as they used to be. " He kin sleep 
 in Charlie's room, if yuh want he should." She took 
 two big swallows that emptied the saucer, handed the 
 dish to Billy Louise, and lay down again. " I don't 
 seem to care about nothin'," she remarked tonelessly. 
 " I 'd jest as soon die as live. I wisht you 'd send word 
 to Seabeck I want t' see him, Billy Louise. Oh, it 
 ain't about Charlie," she aded harshly. " He V shet 
 uh me, and I 'm shet uh him. I got some other busi- 
 ness with Seabeck. Tell him to bring a couple uh men 
 along with him." 
 
 " Is there any hurry, Marthy ? " Billy Louise stood 
 holding the cup and saucer in her two hands, and stared 
 down anxiously at the lined old face on the pillow. A 
 faint, red glow was in the sky, and the lamp-light 
 dimmed with the coming of day. " You don't feel - 
 badly, do you, Marthy ? " 
 
 " Me ? No. Why should I feel bad ? But I want
 
 ALL RIGHT AND COMFY 345 
 
 t' see Seabeck and a couple of his men, jest as quick 
 as you kin git word to 'em." 
 
 " Which ones ? " Billy Louise was plainly puzzled. 
 Was Marthy going to make him take those cattle back ? 
 It was like her. Billy Louise did not blame her for 
 feeling that way, either. If she had had the money, 
 she would have paid him herself for the cattle. 
 
 " It don't matter which ones. You send 'im word, 
 Billy Louise, like the good girl yuh always have been. 
 You 've always kind a took the place of my Minervy to 
 me, Billy Louise ; and I won't bother yuh much longer." 
 
 " Oh, of course I will ! The stage will go up this 
 forenoon. I '11 send a note to Seabeck. It won't be 
 any bother at all. What shall I say ? Just that you 
 want to see him ? " 
 
 " I kin write it m' self, I guess, if you '11 bring me a 
 pencil and paper. I can't seem t' git used to a pen. I 
 kin write all I want t' say." 
 
 Billy Louise let it go at that. She brought the paper 
 and pencil and went after Blue, while Marthy, sitting 
 up in bed, wrote her note. Billy Louise was eager to 
 start; and I don't think anyone should blame her if 
 she hurried Marthy a little, and if her parting words 
 were few, and her manner slightly abstracted. She 
 knew just how Marthy was feeling or thought she 
 did ; and she was simply wild with anxiety over 
 Ward. 
 
 Blue discovered before she was out of the gorge that 
 his lady was wild over something. Never had she come 
 so near to being a merciless rider as on that nippy morn- 
 ing. There were drifts: Blue went through them in 
 great lunges. There were steep hills : but there was no
 
 346 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 stopping at the top to breathe awhile and admire the 
 view. Billy Louise rode with an eye upon the climbing 
 sun, and with her mind busy adding up miles and 
 minutes. 
 
 She rode up the creek trail at a long lope, and she 
 pulled up at the stable and slid off Blue, who was 
 wet to his ears and moving every rib when he breathed. 
 (Blue was a good horse, with plenty of speed and stam- 
 ina, but Billy Louise had given him all he wanted, 
 that morning.) She went straight to a corner of the 
 hay corral and stopped with her hands clutching the top 
 wire. 
 
 " Ward Warren, for heaven's sake, what are you do- 
 ing ? " You could n't have told from her tone that she 
 had been crying, a mile back, from sheer anxiety, or 
 that she " loved him to pieces." She sounded as if 
 she did not love him at all and was merely disgusted 
 with his actions. 
 
 " I 'm trying to sink my loop on this damned buzzard- 
 head of a horse," Ward retorted glumly. " I 've been 
 trying for about an hour," he added, grinning a little 
 at his own plight. 
 
 " Well, it 's a lucky thing for you he won't let you," 
 Billy Louise informed him sternly, stooping to crawl 
 under the bottom wire. " You 've got about as much 
 sense as " She did not say what. " Give me that 
 rope, and you take yourself and your crutches out of 
 the corral, Mr. Smarty. I just had a hunch you could n't 
 be trusted to behave yourself." 
 
 " Brave Buckaroo got lonesome," Ward said, look- 
 ing at her with eyes alight, as he hobbled slowly to- 
 ward her. " You '11 have to open the gate for me,
 
 ALL RIGHT AND COMFY 347 
 
 William. Rattler '11 make a break for the open if he 
 sees a crack as wide as your little finger." 
 
 By then he was near enough to reach out an arm and 
 pull her close to him. " Oh, William girl, I 'm sure 
 glad to see you once more. I got scared. I thought 
 maybe I just dreamed you were here; so I tackled " 
 
 " You tackled more than you could handle," Billy 
 Louise finished with her lips close to his. " You 
 have n't got any sense at all. You might have known 
 I 'd come the very first minute I could." 
 
 " I know I know." 
 
 " And you ought to know you must n't try to ride 
 Rattler, Ward. What if he 'd pitch with you ? " 
 
 " In that case, I 'd pile up, I reckon. Say, William, 
 a broken leg does take a hell of a time to get well. But 
 all the same, I '11 top old Rattler, all right. I 'd top 
 anything rather than spend another night in that jail." 
 
 " You '11 ride Blue," Billy Louise told him calmly. 
 " I 'm going to ride Rattler myself." 
 
 " Yes, you are not ! " 
 
 " Do you mean to say I can't ? Do you think " 
 
 " Oh, I guess you can, all right, but " 
 
 " Well, if I can, I 'm going to. If you think I can't 
 handle a measly old skate like that " 
 
 " He 's been running out for nearly two months, Wil- 
 hemina " 
 
 " And look at his ribs! If you '11 just kindly go in 
 the house while I saddle " 
 
 " I '11 kindly stay right here, lady-girl. You don't 
 know Rattler " 
 
 " And you don't know Billy Louise MacDonald." 
 She wrinkled her nose at him and turned back to un-
 
 saddle Blue. " I really did n't intend to go back right 
 now," she said, " but seeing you 've got your heart set 
 on it, I suppose we might as well." Then she added: 
 " We 're only going as far as the Cove, anyway ; and 
 I really ought to hurry back to look after Marthy. 
 Charlie Fox and Peter pulled out and left her there 
 all solitary alone. I Ve been staying with her since 
 I left here. I told her we 'd be down there, and stay 
 till further notice." 
 
 Billy Louise did not give Ward much opportunity 
 for argument. He was too awkward with his crutches 
 to keep up with her, and she managed to be on the 
 move most of the time. 
 
 I may as well admit that she was horribly afraid 
 of Rattler, and horribly afraid that he and Ward would 
 find it out. She did not hurry much. She took plenty 
 of time to put Ward's saddle on Blue, and when she 
 finally took her rope and went in after Rattler, who 
 was regarding her from the corner of the stack where 
 he might run either way, she wished that Ward was 
 elsewhere and she did not much care where. 
 
 But Ward was anxious, and he stayed where he was 
 by the corner of the stable and swore in violent under- 
 tones because he was condemned to look on while his 
 Wilhemina took long chances on getting hurt. Not a 
 move of hers escaped his fear-sharpened eyes, while 
 she went carelessly close to Rattler, and then, with a 
 quick flip, landed the loop neatly over his head. Ward 
 would have felt less pleased if he had known how her 
 heart was thumping. He saw only the whimsical twist 
 of her lips and thought that she was enjoying a dis- 
 tinctly feminine sense of triumph at her success.
 
 ALL RIGHT AND COMFY 349 
 
 Billy Louise led Rattler boldly up to where lay her 
 saddle and Ward's bridle. She hoped she did not 
 look scared, but she was wondering all the time what 
 Rattler would do when she " piled on " ; pile her off, 
 probably, her pessimism told her, for Billy Louise was 
 no lady broncho-fighter, for all she rode so well on 
 horses that she knew. There is a difference. 
 
 " Sure you want to tackle him, lady-girl ? " Ward 
 asked her, after he had himself attended to the bridling 
 since Rattler was touchy about the head. " Of 
 course, he is n't bad, when you know him ; but he 's 
 liable to be pretty snuffy after running out so long. And 
 he never had a woman on him. You better let me ride 
 him." 
 
 " Don't be silly. You could n't even mount him, with 
 that game leg. And besides, don't you see I 've been 
 wanting an excuse to ride Rattler ever since I knew 
 you? You must have a very poor opinion of my 
 riding." 
 
 " Oh, if you put it that way " Ward yielded, 
 just as she knew he would. " I have n't a doubt but 
 what you can handle him if you take a notion. Only 
 if you got hurt " 
 
 " But I won't." Billy Louise braced her courage 
 with a smile and picked up the saddle blanket. But 
 Ward took it from her and hobbled close enough to ad- 
 just it. 
 
 " He knows me," he explained meaningly. " Bet- 
 ter let me saddle up. He don't know but what I can 
 cave a rib or two in, if he don't behave. Just hand 
 me the saddle, William, please." 
 
 " You 're only trying to scare me out," Billy Louise
 
 350 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 accused him, with a vast relief well hidden. " I 'm not 
 a bit afraid of him." 
 
 " All right ; that '11 help some." He steadied him- 
 self by the horse 's twitching shoulder while he reached 
 carefully for the cinch. " I guess I 'm more scared 
 than you are." 
 
 " I know you are. I 've taken too many tumbles to 
 let the prospect of another one worry me, anyway. 
 Why, Blue ditched me himself, three different times 
 when I first began to ride him. And even yet the old 
 devil would like to, once in a while." Billy Louise 
 was actually talking herself rapidly into a feeling of 
 confidence. 
 
 She needed it. When she had helped Ward upon 
 Blue and that was not easy, either, considering that 
 he only had one leg fit to stand on and had gone 
 to the cabin for her bag of nuggets and Ward's roll of 
 money which he had forgotten, and had exhausted every 
 other excuse for delay, she picked up Rattler's reins 
 and wound her fingers in his mane, and took hold of 
 the stirrup as nonchalantly as if she were mounting 
 Blue. 
 
 She went up at the instant when Rattler jumped 
 sidewise from her. She got partly into the saddle, 
 clung there for a few harrowing seconds, and then went 
 'over his head and plump into a snowdrift beside the 
 stable. 
 
 " Good God ! " groaned Ward and went white and 
 weak as he watched. 
 
 " Good gracious ! " grumbled Billy Louise, righting 
 herself and digging snow out of her collar and sleeves. 
 " Stop your laughing, Ward Warren ! " (Ward was
 
 ALL RIGHT AND COMFY 351 
 
 not laughing, and she knew it.) " I '11 ride that ornery 
 cayuse, just to show him I can. You Rattler, I '11 fix 
 you for that ! " She turned to Ward and twisted her 
 lips at him. " I see now why you named him that," 
 she said. " Because he rattles your teeth loose." 
 
 " You keep off him ! " Ward shouted sternly. 
 
 " You keep still ! " Billy Louise shouted back at him. 
 " We 're going to find out right now who 's boss." 
 
 Whether she referred to Rattler or to his master she 
 did not stipulate ; perhaps she meant both of them. At 
 any rate, she caught the horse again and mounted, a 
 great deal more cautiously than she had at first, in 
 spite of Ward's threats and entreaties. She got fairly 
 into the saddle and stayed there with the help of the 
 horn and the luck that had thus far carried her through 
 almost anything she undertook. She was not a bit 
 ashamed of " pulling leather." 
 
 " Now we 're all right and comfy," she announced 
 breathlessly, when the first fight was over and Rattler, 
 like his master, had yielded to the inevitable. " And 
 we know who 's boss, and we 're all of us squindiciously 
 happy, because we 're headed for home. Are n't we, 
 buckaroo ? " 
 
 " I suppose so," Ward mumbled doubtingly, for a 
 moment eyeing her sidelong. He was not quite over 
 his scare yet. 
 
 " And say, buckaroo ! " Billy Louise reined close, 
 so that she could reach out and pinch his arm a little 
 bit. " Soon as your leg is all well, and you 're every 
 speck over the hookin'-cough, why you can be the 
 boss ! " 
 
 "Can I?"
 
 352 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 " Honest, you can. I 've " Billy Louise had the 
 grace to blush a little "I 've always thought I 'd 
 love to have somebody bully me and boss me and 'buse 
 me. And I " Her lips twitched a little. " I think 
 you can qualify. What was that you said just as I was 
 getting on the second time ? I was too busy to listen, 
 but " 
 
 " But what ? I don't remember that I said anything." 
 Ward got hold of her free hand and held it tight. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you did ! It was sweary, too." 
 
 "W&s it?" 
 
 " Yes, it was. You sweared at Flower of the 
 Eanch-oh." 
 
 Billy Louise stopped at that, since Ward refused to 
 be baited. She sensed that there were bigger things 
 than a " sweary " sentence in the forefront of her bucka- 
 roo's mind. She waited. 
 
 They came to the gate, and Billy Louise freed her 
 hand from his clasp and dismounted, since it was a 
 wire gate and could not be opened on horseback. She 
 closed it after him, looked to her cinch, tightened it 
 a little, patted Eattler forgivingly on the neck, caught 
 the horn with one hand and the stirrup with the other, 
 and went up quite like a man, while Ward watched 
 her intently. 
 
 " l In sooth, I know not why you are so sa-ad,' " mur- 
 mured Billy Louise, when she swung alongside in the 
 trail. 
 
 Ward caught her hand again and did not let go ; so 
 they rode hand in hand down the narrow valley. 
 
 " I was wondering " he hesitated, drawing in a 
 corner of his lip, biting it, and letting it go. " Wil-
 
 ALL RIGHT AND COMFY 353 
 
 hemina, if old Lady Fortune takes a notion to give me 
 another kick or two, just when life looks so good to 
 me " 
 
 " Why, we '11 kick back just as hard as she does," 
 threatened Billy Louise courageously. " Don't let hap- 
 piness get on your nerves, Ward." 
 
 " If I was n't crippled, it would n't. But whea a 
 man 's down and out, he thinks a lot. The last three 
 days, I 've lived a whole lifetime, lady-girl. Everything 
 seems to be coming my way, all at once. And I 'm 
 afraid; what if I can't make good? If I can't make 
 you happy " he squeezed her fingers so that Billy 
 Louise had to grit her teeth to keep from interrupting 
 him " or if anything should happen to you Lord ! 
 I I never knew what it was to be crazy scared till I 
 saw you fall off Kattler. I " 
 
 " You 've got nerves, buckaroo. You Ve been shut 
 up there alone so long you see things all distorted. 
 We 're going to be happy, because we '11 be together, 
 and we 've so much to do and so much to think of. You 
 must realize, Ward, that we 've got three places to take 
 care of, and you and me and poor old Marthy. She 
 has n't anybody, Ward, but us. And she 's changed so 
 got so old just in the last few days. I never knew 
 a person could change so much in such a little while. 
 She 's just let go all holds and kind of sagged down, 
 mentally and physically. W 7 e '11 have to take care of 
 her, Ward, as long as she lives. That 's why I 'm tak- 
 ing you there so we can look after her. She won't 
 leave the Cove. I I was hoping," she added shyly, 
 " that we could sit in front of our own fireplace, Ward, 
 and have nice cozy evenings; but: well, there always
 
 354 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 seems to be something for me to do for somebody, 
 Ward." 
 
 " Oh, you Wilhemina ! " Ward slipped his arm 
 around her, to the disgust of Rattler and Blue, and 
 made shift to kiss her twice. " Long as you live, you '11 
 aways be doing something for somebody ; that 's the 
 way you 're made. And nobody 's been doing things 
 for you ; but if the Lord lets me live, that 's going to 
 be my job from now on." 
 
 He said a great deal more, of course. They had 
 nearly fifteen miles to go, and they rode at a walk; 
 and a man and a maid can say a good deal at such 
 a time. But I don't think they would like to have 
 it all repeated. Their thoughts ranged far: back over 
 the past and far into the future, and clung close to 
 the miracle of love that had brought them together. 
 There is one thing which Billy Louise, even in her most 
 self-revealing mood, did not tell Ward, and that is her 
 doubts of him. Never once did he dream that she had 
 suspected him and wrung her heart because of her sus- 
 picions and in that I think she was wise and kind. 
 
 They found Seabeck and Floyd Carson and another 
 cowboy at the Cove, just preparing to leave. Marthy, 
 it transpired, had wanted to make her will, so that 
 Billy Louise would have the Cove when Marthy was 
 done with it. Billy Louise cried a little and argued 
 a good deal, but Marthy had not lost all her stubborn- 
 ness, and the will stood unchanged. 
 
 When Ward understood all of the circumstances, he 
 hobbled into the kitchen and signaled Seabeck to fol- 
 low him ; and there he counted out five hundred dol-
 
 ALL RIGHT AND COMFY 355 
 
 lars from his last gold-harvest and with a few crisp 
 sentences compelled Seabeck to accept the money. (At 
 that, Seabeck stood a loser by Charlie's thievery, but no 
 one knew it save himself, since he never mentioned the 
 matter.) 
 
 Billy Louise and Ward were married just as soon 
 as Ward was able to make the trip to the county-seat, 
 which was just as soon as he could walk comfortably 
 with a cane. 
 
 They stayed the winter in the Cove, and a part of 
 the spring. Then they buried grim, gray old Marthy 
 up on the side hill near Jase, where she had asked them 
 to lay her work-worn body when she was gone. 
 
 They were very busy and very happy and pretty 
 prosperous with their three ranches and what gold Ward 
 washed out of the gravel-bank while they were living 
 up on Mill Creek, so that he could prove up on his 
 claim. They never heard of Charlie Fox again, or 
 of Buck Olney and they never wanted to. 
 
 If you should some time ride through a certain por- 
 tion of Idaho, you may find the tiny valley of the Wol- 
 verine and the decaying cabins which prove how im- 
 possible it is for a couple to live in three places at once. 
 If you should be so fortunate as to meet Billy Louise, 
 she might take you through the canyon and point out 
 to you her cave and Minervy's. It is possible that she 
 might also show you the washout which always made 
 her and Ward laugh when they passed it. And if you 
 ride up over the hill and along the upland and down 
 another hill, you cannot fail to find the entrance to the 
 Cove ; and perhaps you will like to ride down the gorge 
 and see the little Eden hidden away there. You may
 
 356 RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE 
 
 even ride as far as Mill Creek; but you will be told, 
 very likely, that no one ever found any gold there. And 
 if you should meet them, give my regards to Billy 
 Louise and Ward who never calls himself a football 
 these days. 
 
 THE END
 
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