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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Eagle's Heart, by Hamlin Garland
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Eagle's Heart
+
+Author: Hamlin Garland
+
+Release Date: April 29, 2007 [EBook #21255]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EAGLE'S HEART ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: HE DREW REIN AND LOOKED AT THE GREAT RANGE TO
+THE SOUTHEAST.]
+
+THE EAGLE'S HEART
+
+HAMLIN GARLAND
+SUNSET EDITION
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+NEW YORK AND LONDON
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY HAMLIN GARLAND
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+CONTENTS
+
+PART I
+
+    I.--HIS YOUTH                                     1
+   II.--HIS LOVE AFFAIRS                             11
+  III.--THE YOUNG EAGLE STRIKES                      23
+   IV.--THE TRIAL                                    35
+    V.--THE EAGLE'S EYES GROW DIM                    51
+   VI.--THE CAGE OPENS                               72
+  VII.--ON THE WING                                  83
+ VIII.--THE UPWARD TRAIL                             96
+   IX.--WAR ON THE CANNON BALL                      123
+    X.--THE YOUNG EAGLE MOUNTS                      143
+   XI.--ON THE ROUND-UP                             157
+
+PART II
+
+  XII.--THE YOUNG EAGLE FLUTTERS THE DOVE-COTE      175
+ XIII.--THE YOUNG EAGLE DREAMS OF A MATE            199
+  XIV.--THE YOUNG EAGLE RETURNS TO HIS EYRIE        220
+
+PART III
+
+   XV.--THE EAGLE COMPLETES HIS CIRCLE              233
+  XVI.--AGAIN ON THE ROUND-UP                       250
+ XVII.--MOSE RETURNS TO WAGON WHEEL                 265
+XVIII.--THE EAGLE GUARDS THE SHEEP                  283
+  XIX.--THE EAGLE ADVENTURES INTO STRANGE LANDS     316
+   XX.--A DARK DAY WITH A GLOWING SUNSET            339
+  XXI.--CONCLUSION                                  363
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+THE EAGLE'S HEART
+
+PART I
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+HIS YOUTH
+
+
+Harold was about ten years of age when his father, the Rev. Mr. Excell,
+took the pastorate of the First Church in Rock River. Many of the people
+in his first congregation remarked upon "the handsome lad." The clear
+brown of his face, his big yellow-brown eyes, his slender hands, and the
+grace of his movements gave him distinction quite aside from that
+arising from his connection with the minister.
+
+Rev. John Excell was a personable man himself. He was tall and broad
+shouldered, with abundant brown hair and beard, and a winning smile. His
+eyes were dark and introspective, but they could glow like sunlit topaz,
+or grow dim with tears, as his congregation had opportunity to observe
+during this first sermon--but they were essentially sad eyes.
+
+Mrs. Excell, a colorless little woman who retained only the dim outline
+of her girlhood's beauty, sat gracelessly in her pew, but her
+stepdaughter, Maud, by her side, was carrying to early maturity a dainty
+grace united with something strong and fine drawn from her father. She
+had his proud lift of the head.
+
+"What a fine family!" whispered the women from pew to pew under cover of
+the creaking fans.
+
+In the midst of the first sermon, a boy seated in front of Harold gave a
+shrill whoop of agony and glared back at the minister's son with
+distorted face, and only the prompt action on the part of both mothers
+prevented a clamorous encounter over the pew. Harold had stuck the head
+of a pin in the toe of his boot and jabbed his neighbor in the calf of
+the leg. It was an old trick, but it served well.
+
+The minister did not interrupt his reading, but a deep flush of hot
+blood arose to his face, and the lids of his eyes dropped to shut out
+the searching gaze of his parishioners, as well as to close in a red
+glare of anger. From that moment Harold was known as "that preacher's
+boy," the intention being to convey by significant inflections and a
+meaning smile that he filled the usual description of a minister's
+graceless son.
+
+Harold soon became renowned in his own world. He had no hard-fought
+battles, though he had scores of quarrels, for he scared his opponents
+by the suddenness and the intensity of his rage, which was fairly
+demoniacal in fury.
+
+"You touch me and I'll _kill you_," he said in a low voice to the fat
+boy whose leg he had jabbed, and his bloodless face and blazing eyes
+caused the boy to leap frenziedly away. He carried a big knife, his
+playmates discovered, and no one, not even youths grown to man's
+stature, cared to attempt violence with him. One lad, struck with a
+stone from his cunning right hand, was carried home in a carriage.
+Another, being thrown by one convulsive effort, fell upon his arm,
+breaking it at the elbow. In less than a week every boy in Rock River
+knew something of Harry Excell's furious temper, and had learned that it
+was safer to be friend than enemy to him.
+
+He had his partisans, too, for his was a singularly attractive nature
+when not enraged. He was a hearty, buoyant playmate, and a good scholar
+five days out of six, but he demanded a certain consideration at all
+times. An accidental harm he bore easily, but an intentional
+injury--that was flame to powder.
+
+The teachers in the public school each had him in turn, as he ran
+rapidly up the grades. They all admired him unreservedly, but most of
+them were afraid of him, so that he received no more decisive check than
+at home. He was subject to no will but his own.
+
+The principal was a kind and scholarly old man, who could make a boy cry
+with remorse and shame by his Christlike gentleness, and Harold also
+wept in his presence, but that did not prevent him from fairly knocking
+out the brains of the next boy who annoyed him. In his furious, fickle
+way he often defended his chums or smaller boys, so that it was not easy
+to condemn him entirely.
+
+There were rumors from the first Monday after Harold's pin-sticking
+exploit that the minister had "lively sessions" with his boy. The old
+sexton privately declared that he heard muffled curses and shrieks and
+the sound of blows rising from the cellar of the parsonage--but this
+story was hushed on his lips. The boy admittedly needed thrashing, but
+the deacons of the church would rather not have it known that the
+minister used the rod himself.
+
+The rumors of the preacher's stern measures softened the judgment of
+some of the townspeople, who shifted some of the blame of the son to the
+shoulders of the sire. Harry called his father "the minister," and
+seemed to have no regard for him beyond a certain respect for his
+physical strength. When boys came by and raised the swimming sign he
+replied, "Wait till I ask 'the minister.'" This was considered "queer"
+in him.
+
+He ignored his stepmother completely, but tormented his sister Maud in a
+thousand impish ways. He disarranged her neatly combed hair. He threw
+mud on her dress and put carriage grease on her white stockings on
+picnic day. He called her "chiny-thing," in allusion to her pretty round
+cheeks and clear complexion, and yet he loved her and would instantly
+fight for her, and no one else dared tease her or utter a word to annoy
+her. She was fourteen years of age when Mr. Excell came to town, and at
+sixteen considered herself a young lady. As suitors began to gather
+about her, they each had a vigorous trial to undergo with Harold; it was
+indeed equivalent to running the gantlet. Maud was always in terror of
+him on the evenings when she had callers.
+
+One day he threw a handful of small garter snakes into the parlor where
+his sister sat with young Mr. Norton. Maud sprang to a chair screaming
+wildly, while her suitor caught the snakes and threw them from the
+window just as the minister's tall form darkened the doorway.
+
+"What is the matter?" he asked.
+
+Maud, eager to shield Harry, said: "Oh, nothing much, papa--only one of
+Harry's jokes."
+
+"Tell me," said the minister to the young man, who, with a painful smile
+on his face, stammeringly replied:
+
+"Harry thought he'd scare me, that's all. It didn't amount to much."
+
+"I insist on knowing the truth, Mr. Norton," the minister sternly
+insisted.
+
+As Norton described the boy's action, Mr. Excell's face paled and his
+lips set close. His eyes became terrible to meet, and the beaded sweat
+of his furious anger stood thick on his face. "Thank you," he said with
+ominous calmness, and turning without another word, went to his study.
+
+His wife, stealing up, found the door locked and her husband walking the
+floor like a roused tiger. White and shaking with a sort of awe, Mrs.
+Excell ran down to the kitchen where Harold crouched and said:
+
+"Harold, dear, you'd better go out to Mr. Burns' right away."
+
+Harold understood perfectly what she meant and fled. For hours neither
+Mrs. Excell nor Maud spoke above a whisper. When the minister came down
+to tea he made no comment on Harry's absence. He had worn out his
+white-hot rage, but was not yet in full control of himself.
+
+He remained silent, and kept his eyes on his plate during the meal.
+
+The last time he had punished Harold the scene narrowly escaped a tragic
+ending. When the struggle ended Harold lay on the floor, choked into
+insensibility.
+
+When he had become calm and Harold was sleeping naturally in his own
+bed, the father knelt at his wife's knee and prayed God for grace to
+bear his burden, and said:
+
+"Mary, keep us apart when we are angry. He is like me: he has my
+fiendish temper. No matter what I say or do, keep us apart till I am
+calm. By God's grace I will never touch his flesh again in anger."
+
+Nevertheless he dared not trust himself to refer to the battles which
+shamed them all. The boy was deeply repentant, but uttered no word of
+it. And so they grew ever more silent and vengeful in their intercourse.
+
+Harold early developed remarkable skill with horses, and once rode in
+the races at the County Fair, to the scandal of the First Church. He not
+only won the race, but was at once offered a great deal of money to go
+with the victor to other races. To his plea the father, with deep-laid
+diplomacy, replied:
+
+"Very well; study hard this year and next year you may go." But the boy
+was just at the age to take on weight rapidly, and by the end of the
+year was too heavy, and the owner of the horse refused to repeat his
+offer. Harold did not fail to remark how he had been cheated, but said
+nothing more of his wish to be a jockey.
+
+He was also fond of firearms, and during his boyhood his father tried in
+every way to keep weapons from him, and a box in his study contained a
+contraband collection of his son's weapons. There was a certain pathos
+in this little arsenal, for it gave evidence of considerable labor on
+the boy's part, and expressed much of buoyant hope and restless energy.
+
+There were a half-dozen Fourth of July pistols, as many cannons for
+crackers, and three attempts at real guns intended to explode powder and
+throw a bullet. Some of them were "toggled up" with twine, and one or
+two had handles rudely carved out of wood. Two of them were genuine
+revolvers which he had managed to earn by working in the harvest field
+on the Burns' farm.
+
+From his fifteenth year he was never without a shotgun and revolver. The
+shotgun was allowed, but the revolver was still contraband and kept
+carefully concealed. On Fourth of July he always helped to fire the
+anvil and fireworks, for he was deft and sure and quite at home with
+explosives. He had acquired great skill with both gun and pistol as
+early as his thirteenth year, and his feats of marksmanship came now and
+then to the ears of his father.
+
+The father and son were in open warfare. Harold submitted to every
+command outwardly, but inwardly vowed to break all restraint which he
+considered useless or unjust.
+
+His great ambition was to acquire a "mustang pony," for all the
+adventurous spirits of the dime novels he had known carried revolvers
+and rode mustangs. He did not read much, but when he did it was always
+some tale of fighting. He was too restless and active to continue at a
+book of his own accord for any length of time, but he listened
+delightedly to any one who consented to read for him. When his sister
+Maud wished to do him a great favor and to enjoy his company (for she
+loved him dearly) she read Daredevil Dan, or some similar story, while
+he lay out on his stomach in the grass under the trees, with restless
+feet swinging like pendulums. At such times his face was beautiful with
+longing, and his eyes became dark and dreamy. "I'm going there, Beauty,"
+he would say as Maud rolled out the word _Colorado_ or _Brazos_. "I'm
+going there. I won't stay here and rot. I'll go, you'll see, and I'll
+have a big herd of cattle, too."
+
+His gentlest moments were those spent with his sister in the fields or
+under the trees. As he grew older he became curiously tender and
+watchful of her. It pleased him to go ahead of her through the woods, to
+pilot the way, and to help her over ditches or fences. He loved to lead
+her into dense thickets and to look around and say: "There, isn't this
+wild, though? You couldn't find your way out if it wasn't for me, could
+you?" And she, to carry out the spirit of the story, always shuddered
+and said, "Don't leave me to perish here."
+
+Once, as he lay with his head in the grass, he suddenly said: "Can't you
+hear the Colorado roar?"
+
+The wind was sweeping over the trees, and Maud, eager to keep him in
+this gentle mood, cried: "I hear it; it is a wonderful river, isn't it?"
+
+He did not speak again for a moment.
+
+"Oh, I want to be where there is nobody west of me," he said, a look of
+singular beauty on his face. "Don't you?"
+
+"N--no, I don't," answered Maud. "But, then, I'm a girl, you know; we're
+afraid of wild things, most of us."
+
+"Dot Burland isn't."
+
+"Oh, she only pretends; she wants you to think she's brave."
+
+"That's a lie." He said it so savagely that Maud hastened to apologize.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+HIS LOVE AFFAIRS
+
+
+Naturally a lad of this temper had his loves. He made no secret of them,
+and all the young people in the town knew his sweethearts and the
+precise time when his passion changed its course. If a girl pleased him
+he courted her with the utmost directness, but he was by no
+interpretation a love-sick youth. His likings were more in the nature of
+proprietary comradeship, and were expressed without caresses or ordinary
+words of endearment.
+
+His courtship amounted to service. He waited about to meet and help his
+love, he hastened to defend her and to guide her; and if the favored one
+knew her rôle she humored his fancies, permitting him to aid her in
+finding her way across a weedy pasture lot or over a tiny little brook
+which he was pleased to call a torrent. A smile of derision was fatal.
+He would not submit to ridicule or joking. At the first jocular word his
+hands clinched and his eyes flamed with anger. His was not a face of
+laughter; for the most part it was serious in expression, and his eyes
+were rapt with dreams of great deeds.
+
+He had one mate to whom he talked freely, and him he chose often to be
+his companion in the woods or on the prairies. This was John Burns, son
+of a farmer who lived near the town. Harry spent nearly every Saturday
+and Sunday during the summer months on the Burns farm. He helped Jack
+during haying and harvest, and when their tasks were done the two boys
+wandered away to the bank of the river and there, under some great
+basswood tree on delicious sward, they lay and talked of wild animals
+and Indians and the West. At this time the great chieftains of the
+Sioux, Sitting Bull and Gall, were becoming famous to the world, and the
+first reports of the findings of gold in the Black Hills were being
+made. A commission appointed by President Grant had made a treaty with
+the Sioux wherein Sitting Bull was told, "If you go to this new
+reservation and leave Dakota to the settlers, you shall be unmolested so
+long as grass grows and water runs."
+
+But the very guard sent in to protect this commission reported "gold in
+the grass roots," and the insatiate greed of the white man broke all
+bounds--the treaty was ignored, and Sitting Bull, the last chieftain of
+the Sioux, calling his people together, withdrew deeper into the
+wilderness of Wyoming. The soldiers were sent on the trail, and the
+press teemed for months with news of battles and speeches and campaigns.
+
+All these exciting events Harry and his friend Jack read and discussed
+hotly. Jack was eager to own a mine. "I'd like to pick up a nugget," he
+said, but Harold was not interested. "I don't care to mine; I'd like to
+be with General Custer. I'd like to be one of the scouts. I'd like to
+have a coat like that." He pointed at one of the pictures wherein two or
+three men in fringed buckskin shirts and wide hats were galloping across
+a rocky plain.
+
+Many times as the two boys met to talk over these alluring matters the
+little town and the dusty lanes became exceedingly tame and commonplace.
+
+Harold's eyes glowed with passion as he talked to his sweetheart of
+these wild scenes, and she listened because he was so alluring as he lay
+at her feet, pouring out a vivid recital of his plans.
+
+"I'm not going to stay here much longer," he said; "it's too dull. I
+can't stand much more school. If it wasn't for you I'd run away right
+now."
+
+Dot only smiled back at him and laid her hand on his hair. She was his
+latest sweetheart. He loved her for her vivid color, her abundant and
+beautiful hair, and also because she was a sympathetic listener. She, on
+her part, enjoyed the sound of his eager voice and the glow of his deep
+brown eyes. They were both pupils in the little seminary in the town,
+and he saw her every day walking to and from the recitation halls. He
+often carried her books for her, and in many other little ways insisted
+on serving her.
+
+Almost without definable reason the "Wild West" came to be a land of
+wonder, lit as by some magical light. Its cañons, _arroyos_, and
+mesquite, its bronchos, cowboys, Indians, and scouts filled the boy's
+mind with thoughts of daring, not much unlike the fancies of a boy in
+the days of knight errantry.
+
+Of the Indians he held mixed opinions. At times he thought of them as a
+noble race, at others--when he dreamed of fame--he wished to kill a
+great many of them and be very famous. Most of the books he read were
+based upon the slaughter of the "redskins," and yet at heart he wished
+to be one of them and to taste the wild joy of their poetic life, filled
+with hunting and warfare. Sitting Bull, Chief Gall, Rain-in-the-Face,
+Spotted Tail, Star-in-the-Brow, and Black Buffalo became wonder-working
+names in his mind. Every line in the newspapers which related to the
+life of the cowboys or Indians he read and remembered, for his plan was
+to become a part of it as soon as he had money enough to start.
+
+There were those who would have contributed five dollars each to send
+him, for he was considered a dangerous influence among the village boys.
+If a window were broken by hoodlums at night it was counted against the
+minister's son. If a melon patch were raided and the fruit scattered and
+broken, Harold was considered the ringleader. Of the judgments of their
+elders the rough lads were well aware, and they took pains that no word
+of theirs should shift blame from Harold's shoulders to their own. By
+hints and sly remarks they fixed unalterably in the minds of their
+fathers and mothers the conception that Harold was a desperately bad and
+reckless boy. In his strength, skill, and courage they really believed,
+and being afraid of him, they told stories of his exploits, even among
+themselves, which bordered on the marvelous.
+
+In reality he was not a leader of these raids. His temperament was not
+of that kind. He did not care to assume direction of an expedition
+because it carried too much trouble and some responsibility. His mind
+was wayward and liable to shift to some other thing at any moment;
+besides, mischief for its own sake did not appeal to him. The real
+leaders were the two sons of the village shoemaker. They were
+under-sized, weazened, shrewd, sly little scamps, and appeared not to
+have the resolution of chickadees, but had a singular genius for getting
+others into trouble. They knew how to handle spirits like Harold. They
+dared him to do evil deeds, taunted him (as openly as they felt it safe
+to do) with cowardice, and so spurred him to attempt some trifling
+depredation merely as a piece of adventure. Almost invariably when they
+touched him on this nerve Harold responded with a rush, and when
+discovery came was nearly always among the culprits taken and branded,
+for his pride would not permit him to sneak and run. So it fell out that
+time after time he was found among the grape stealers or the melon
+raiders, and escaped prosecution only because the men of the town laid
+it to "boyish deviltry" and not to any deliberate intent to commit a
+crime.
+
+After his daughter married Mr. Excell made another effort to win the
+love of his son and failed. Harold cared nothing for his father's
+scholarship or oratorical powers, and never went to church after he was
+sixteen, but he sometimes boasted of his father among the boys.
+
+"If father wasn't a minister, he'd be one of the strongest men in this
+town," he said once to Jack. "Look at his shoulders. His arms are hard,
+too. Of course he can't show his muscle, but I tell you he can box and
+swing dumb-bells."
+
+If the father had known it, in the direction of athletics lay the road
+to the son's heart, but the members of the First Church were not
+sufficiently advanced to approve of a muscular minister, and so Mr.
+Excell kept silent on such subjects, and swung his dumb-bells in
+private. As a matter of fact, he had been a good hunter in his youth in
+Michigan, and might have won his son's love by tales of the wood, but he
+did not.
+
+For the most part, Harold ignored his father's occasional moments of
+tenderness, and spent the larger part of his time with his sister or at
+the Burns' farm.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Burns saw all that was manly and good in the boy, and they
+stoutly defended him on all occasions.
+
+"The boy is put upon," Mrs. Burns always argued. "A quieter, more
+peaceabler boy I never knew, except my own Jack. They're good, helpful
+boys, both of 'em, and I don't care what anybody says."
+
+Jack, being slower of thought and limb, worshiped his chum, whose
+alertness and resource humbled him, though he was much the better
+scholar in all routine work. He read more than Harold, but Harold seized
+upon the facts and transmitted them instantly into something vivid and
+dramatic. He assumed all leadership in the hunting, and upon Jack fell
+all the drudgery. He always did the reading, also, while Harold listened
+and dreamed with eyes that seemed to look across miles of peaks. His was
+the eagle's heart; wild reaches allured him. Minute beauties of garden
+or flower were not for him. The groves along the river had long since
+lost their charm because he knew their limits--they no longer appealed
+to his imagination.
+
+A hundred times he said: "Come, let's go West and kill buffalo.
+To-morrow we will see the snow on Pike's Peak." The wild country was so
+near, its pressure day by day molded his mind. He had no care or thought
+of cities or the East. He dreamed of the plains and horses and herds of
+buffalo and troops of Indians filing down the distant slopes. Every poem
+of the range, every word which carried flavor of the wild country, every
+picture of a hunter remained in his mind.
+
+The feel of a gun in his hands gave him the keenest delight, and to
+stalk geese in a pond or crows in the cornfield enabled him to imagine
+the joy of hunting the bear and the buffalo. He had the hunter's
+patience, and was capable of creeping on his knees in the mud for hours
+in the attempt to kill a duck. He could imitate almost all the birds and
+animals he knew. His whistle would call the mother grouse to him. He
+could stop the whooping of cranes in their steady flight, and his
+honking deceived the wary geese. When complimented for his skill in
+hunting he scornfully said:
+
+"Oh, that's nothing. Anyone can kill small game; but buffaloes and
+grizzlies--they are the boys."
+
+During the winter of his sixteenth year a brother of Mr. Burns returned
+from Kansas, which was then a strange and far-off land, and from him
+Harold drew vast streams of talk. The boy was insatiate when the plains
+were under discussion. From this veritable cattleman he secured many new
+words. With great joy he listened while Mr. Burns spoke of _cinches_,
+ropes, corrals, _buttes_, _arroyos_ and other Spanish-Mexican words
+which the boys had observed in their dime novels, but which they had
+never before heard anyone use in common speech. Mr. Burns alluded to an
+_aparejo_ or an _arroyo_ as casually as Jack would say "singletree" or
+"furrow," and his stories brought the distant plains country very near.
+
+Harold sought opportunity to say: "Mr. Burns, take me back with you; I
+wish you would."
+
+The cattleman looked at him. "Can you ride a horse?"
+
+Jack spoke up: "You bet he can, Uncle. He rode in the races."
+
+Burns smiled as a king might upon a young knight seeking an errant.
+
+"Well, if your folks don't object, when you get done with school, and
+Jack's mother says _he_ can come, you make a break for Abilene; we'll
+see what I can do with you on the 'long trail.'"
+
+Harold took this offer very seriously, much more so than Mr. Burns
+intended he should do, although he was pleased with the boy.
+
+Harold well knew that his father and mother would not consent, and very
+naturally said nothing to them about his plan, but thereafter he laid by
+every cent of money he could earn, until his thrift became a source of
+comment. To Jack he talked for hours of the journey they were to make.
+Jack, unimaginative and engrossed with his studies at the seminary, took
+the whole matter very calmly. It seemed a long way off at best, and his
+studies were pleasant and needed his whole mind. Harold was thrown back
+upon the company of his sweetheart, who was the only one else to whom he
+could talk freely.
+
+Dot, indolent, smiling creature of cozy corners that she was, listened
+without emotion, while Harold, with eyes ablaze, with visions of the
+great, splendid plains, said: "I'm going West sure. I'm tired of school;
+I'm going to Kansas, and I'm going to be a great cattle king in a few
+years, Dot, and then I'll come back and get you, and we'll go live on
+the banks of a big river, and we'll have plenty of horses, and go riding
+and hunting antelope every day. How will you like that?"
+
+Her unresponsiveness hurt him, and he said: "You don't seem to care
+whether I go or not."
+
+She turned and looked at him vacantly, still smiling, and he saw that
+she had not heard a single word of his passionate speech. He sprang up,
+hot with anger and pain.
+
+"If you don't care to listen to me you needn't," he said, speaking
+through his clinched teeth.
+
+She smiled, showing her little white teeth prettily. "Now, don't get
+mad, Harry; I was thinking of something else. Please tell me again."
+
+"I won't. I'm done with you." A big lump arose in his throat and he
+turned away to hide tears of mortified pride. He could not have put it
+into words, but he perceived the painful truth. Dot had considered him a
+boy all along, and had only half listened to his stories and plans in
+the past, deceiving him for some purpose of her own. She was a smiling,
+careless hypocrite.
+
+"You've lied to me," he said, turning and speaking with the bluntness of
+a boy without subtlety of speech. "I never'll speak to you again;
+good-by."
+
+Dot kept swinging her foot. "Good-by," she said in her sweet,
+soft-breathing voice.
+
+He walked away slowly, but his heart was hot with rage and wounded
+pride, and every time he thought of the tone in which she said
+"Good-by," his flesh quivered. He was seventeen, and considered himself
+a man; she was eighteen, and thought him only a boy. She had never
+listened to him, that he now understood. Maud had been right. Dot had
+only pretended, and now for some reason she ceased to pretend.
+
+There was just one comfort in all this: it made it easier for him to go
+to the sunset country, and his wounded heart healed a little at the
+thought of riding a horse behind a roaring herd of buffaloes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE YOUNG EAGLE STRIKES
+
+
+A farming village like Rock River is one of the quietest, most humdrum
+communities in the world till some sudden upheaval of primitive passion
+reveals the tiger, the ram, and the wolf which decent and orderly
+procedure has hidden. Cases of murder arise from the dead level of
+everyday village routine like volcanic mountain peaks in the midst of a
+flowering plain.
+
+The citizens of Rock River were amazed and horrified one Monday morning
+to learn that Dot Burland had eloped with the clerk in the principal
+bank in the town, a married man and the leader of the choir in the First
+Church. Some of the people when they heard of it, said: "I do not
+believe it," and when they were convinced, the tears came to their eyes.
+"She was such a pretty girl, and think of Mrs. Willard--and then
+Sam--who would have supposed Sam Willard could do such a thing."
+
+To most of the citizens it was drama; it broke the tedious monotony of
+everyday life; it was more productive of interesting conversation than a
+case of embezzlement or the burning of the county courthouse. There were
+those who smiled while they said: "Too bad, too bad! Any p'ticlers?"
+
+Some of the women recalled their dislike of the lazy, pink-and-white
+creature whom they had often seen loitering on the streets or lying day
+after day in a hammock reading "domestic novels." The young girls drew
+together and conveyed the news in whispers. It seemed to overturn the
+whole social world so far as they knew it, and some of them hastened to
+disclaim any friendship with "the dreadful thing."
+
+Of course the related persons came into the talk. "Poor Mrs. Willard and
+Harry Excell!" Yes, there was Harry; for a moment, for the first time,
+he was regarded with pity. "What will he do? He must take it very hard."
+
+At about eleven o'clock, just as the discussion had reached this
+secondary stage, where new particulars were necessary, a youth, pale and
+breathless, with his right hand convulsively clasping his bloody
+shoulder, rushed into the central drug store and fell to the floor with
+inarticulate cries of fear and pain. Out of his mouth at last came an
+astonishing charge of murderous assault on the part of Harold Excell.
+His wounds were dressed and the authorities notified to arrest his
+assailant.
+
+When the officers found Harold he was pacing up and down the narrow
+alley where the encounter had taken place. He was white as the dead, and
+his eyes were ablaze under his knitted brows.
+
+"Well, what do you want of me?" he demanded, as the officer rushed up
+and laid hands upon him.
+
+"You've killed Clint Slocum," replied the constable, drawing a pair of
+handcuffs from his pocket.
+
+"Oh, drop those things!" replied Harold; "I'm not going to run; you
+never knew me to run."
+
+Half ashamed, the constable replaced the irons in his pocket and seized
+his prisoner by the arm. Harold walked along quietly, but his face was
+terrible to see, especially in one so young. In every street excited
+men, women, and children were running to see him pass. He had suddenly
+become alien and far separated from them all. He perceived them as if
+through a lurid smoke cloud.
+
+On most of these faces lay a smile, a ghastly, excited, pleased grin,
+which enraged him more than any curse would have done. He had suddenly
+become their dramatic entertainment. The constable gripped him tighter
+and the sheriff, running up, seized his other arm.
+
+Harold shook himself free. "Let me alone! I'm going along all right."
+
+The officers only held him the closer, and his rage broke bounds. He
+struggled till his captors swayed about on the walk, and the little boys
+screamed with laughter to see the slender youth shake the big men.
+
+In the midst of this struggle a tall man, without hat or coat and
+wearing slippers, came running down the walk with great strides. His
+voice rang deep and clear:
+
+"_Let the boy alone!_"
+
+It was the minister. With one sweep of his right hand he tore the hands
+of the sheriff from the boy's arms; the gesture was bearlike in power.
+"What's the meaning of all this, Mr. Sawyer?" he said, addressing the
+sheriff.
+
+"Your boy has killed a man."
+
+"You lie!"
+
+"It's true--anyhow, he has stabbed Clint Slocum. He ain't dead, but he's
+hurt bad."
+
+"Is that true, Harold?"
+
+Harold did not lift his sullen glance. "He struck me with a whip."
+
+There was a silence, during which the minister choked with emotion and
+his lips moved as if in silent prayer. Then he turned. "Free the boy's
+arm. I'll guarantee he will not try to escape. No son of mine will run
+to escape punishment--leave him to me."
+
+The constable, being a member of the minister's congregation and a
+profound admirer of his pastor, fell back. The sheriff took a place by
+his side, and the father and son walked on toward the jail. After a few
+moments the minister began to speak in a low voice:
+
+"My son, you have reached a momentous point in your life's history. Much
+depends on the words you use. I will not tell you to conceal the truth,
+but you need not incriminate yourself--that is the law"--his voice was
+almost inaudible, but Harold heard it. "If Slocum dies--oh, my God! My
+God!"
+
+His voice failed him utterly, but he walked erect and martial, the sun
+blazing on his white forehead, his hands clinched at his sides. There
+were many of his parishioners in the streets, and several of the women
+broke into bitter weeping as he passed, and many of the men imprecated
+the boy who was bringing white lines of sorrow into his father's hair.
+"This is the logical end of his lawless bringing up," said one.
+
+The father went on: "Tell me, my boy--tell me the truth--did you strike
+to kill? Was murder in your heart?"
+
+Harold did not reply. The minister laid a broad, gentle hand on his
+son's shoulder. "Tell me, Harold."
+
+"No; I struck to hurt him. He was striking me; I struck back," the boy
+sullenly answered.
+
+The father sighed with relief. "I believe you, Harold. He is older and
+stronger, too: that will count in your favor."
+
+They reached the jail yard gate, and there, in the face of a crowd of
+curious people, the minister bowed his proud head and put his arm about
+his son and kissed his hair. Then, with tears upon his face, he
+addressed the sheriff:
+
+"Mr. Sheriff, I resign my boy to your care. Remember, he is but a lad,
+and he is my only son. Deal gently with him.--Harold, submit to the law
+and all will end well. I will bring mother and Maud to see you at once."
+
+As the gate closed on his son the minister drew a deep breath, and a cry
+of bitter agony broke from his clinched lips: "O God, O God! My son is
+lost!"
+
+The story of the encounter, even as it dribbled forth from Slocum,
+developed extenuating circumstances. Slocum was man grown, a big,
+muscular fellow, rather given to bullying. A heavy carriage whip was
+found lying in the alley, and this also supported Harold's story to his
+father. As told by Slocum, the struggle took place just where the alley
+from behind the parsonage came out upon the cross street.
+
+"I was leading a horse," said Slocum, "and I met Harry, and we got to
+talking, and something I said made him mad, and he jerked out his knife
+and jumped at me. The horse got scared and yanked me around, and just
+then Harry got his knife into me. I saw he was in for my life and I
+threw down the whip and run, the blood a-spurting out o' me, hot as
+b'ilin' water. I was scared, I admit that. I thought he'd opened a big
+artery in me, and I guess he did."
+
+When this story, amplified and made dramatic, reached the ears of the
+minister, he said: "That is Clinton's side of the case. My son must have
+been provoked beyond his control. Wait till we hear his story."
+
+But the shadow of the prison was on Harold's face, and he sullenly
+refused to make any statement, even to his sister, who had more
+influence over him than Mrs. Excell.
+
+A singular and sinister change came over him as the days passed. He
+became silent and secretive and suspicious, and the sheriff spoke to Mr.
+Excell about it. "I don't understand that boy of yours. He seems to be
+in training for a contest of some kind. He's quiet enough in daytime, or
+when I'm around, but when he thinks he's alone, he races up and down
+like a lynx, and jumps and turns handsprings, and all sorts of things.
+The only person he asks to see is young Burns. I can't fathom him."
+
+The father lowered his eyes. He knew well that Harry did not ask for
+him.
+
+"If it wasn't for these suspicious actions, doctor, I'd let him have the
+full run of the jail yard, but I dassent let him have any liberties.
+Why, he can go up the side of the cells like a squirrel! He'd go over
+our wall like a cat--no doubt of it."
+
+The minister spoke with some effort. "I think you misread my son. He is
+not one to flee from punishment. He has some other idea in his mind."
+
+To Jack Burns alone, plain, plodding, and slow, Harold showed a smiling
+face. He met him with a boyish word--"Hello, Jack! how goes it?"--and
+was eager to talk. He reached out and touched him with his hands
+wistfully. "I'm glad you've come. You're the only friend I've got now,
+Jack." This was one of the morbid fancies jail life had developed; he
+thought everybody had turned against him. "Now, I want to tell you
+something--we're chums, and you mustn't give me away. These fools think
+I'm going to try to escape, but I ain't. You see, they can't hang me for
+stabbing that coward, but they'll shut me up for a year or two, and
+I've got to keep healthy, don't you see? When I get out o' this I strike
+for the West, don't you see? And I've got to be able to do a day's work.
+Look at this arm." He stripped his strong white arm for inspection.
+
+In the midst of the excitement attending Harold's arrest, Dot's
+elopement was temporarily diminished in value, but some shrewd gossip
+connected the two events and said: "I believe Clint gibed Harry Excell
+about Dot--I just believe that's what the fight was about."
+
+This being repeated, not as an opinion but as the inside facts in the
+case, sentiment turned swiftly in Harold's favor. Clinton was shrewd
+enough to say very little about the quarrel. "I was just givin' him a
+little guff, and he up and lit into me with a big claspknife." Such was
+his story constantly repeated.
+
+Fortunately for Harold, the case came to trial early in the autumn
+session. It was the most dramatic event of the year, and it was
+seriously suggested that it would be a good thing to hold the trial in
+the opera house in order that all the townspeople should be able to
+enjoy it. A cynical young editor made a counter suggestion: "I move we
+charge one dollar per ticket and apply the funds to buying a fire
+engine." Naturally, the judge of the district went the calm way of the
+law, regardless of the town's ferment of interest in the case.
+
+The county attorney appeared for the prosecution, and old Judge Brown
+and young Bradley Talcott defended Harold.
+
+Bradley knew Harold very well and the boy had a high regard for him.
+Lawyer Brown believed the boy to be a restless and dangerous spirit, but
+he said to Bradley:
+
+"I've no doubt the boy was provoked by Clint, who is a worthless bully,
+but we must face the fact that young Excell bears a bad name. He has
+been in trouble a great many times, and the prosecution will make much
+of that. Our business is to show the extent of the provocation, and
+secondly, to disprove, so far as we can, the popular conception of the
+youth. I can get nothing out of him which will aid in his defense. He
+refuses to talk. Unless we can wring the truth out of Slocum on the
+stand it will go hard with the boy. I wish you'd see what you can do."
+
+Bradley went down to see Harold, and the two spent a couple of hours
+together. Bradley talked to him in plain and simple words, without any
+assumption. His voice was kind and sincere, and Harold nearly wept under
+its music, but he added very little to Bradley's knowledge of the
+situation.
+
+"He struck me with the whip, and then I--I can't remember much about
+it, my mind was a kind of a red blur," Harold said at last desperately.
+
+"Why did he strike you with the whip?"
+
+"I told him he was a black-hearted liar."
+
+"What made you say that to him?" persevered Bradley.
+
+"Because that's what he was."
+
+"Did he say something to you which you resented?"
+
+"Yes--he did."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+Right there Harold closed his lips and Bradley took another tack.
+
+"Harry, I want you to tell me something. Did you have anything to do
+with killing Brownlow's dog?"
+
+"No," replied Harold disdainfully.
+
+"Did you have any hand in the raid on Brownlow's orchard a week later?"
+
+"No; I was at home."
+
+"Did your folks see you during the evening?"
+
+"No; I was with Jack up in the attic, reading."
+
+"You've taken a hand in _some_ of these things--raids--haven't you?"
+
+"Yes, but I never tried to destroy things. It was all in fun."
+
+"I understand. Well, now, Harold, you've got a worse name than belongs
+to you, and I wish you'd just tell me the whole truth about this fight,
+and we will do what we can to help you."
+
+Harold's face grew sullen. "I don't care what they do with me. They're
+all down on me anyway," he slowly said, and Bradley arose and went out
+with a feeling of discouragement.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE TRIAL
+
+
+The day of his trial came as a welcome change to Harold. He had no fear
+of punishment and he hated delay. Every day before his sentence began
+was a loss of time--kept him just that much longer from the alluring
+lands to the West. His father called often to see him, but the boy
+remained inexorably silent in all these meetings, and the minister went
+away white with pain. Even to his sister Harold was abrupt and harsh,
+but Jack's devotion produced in him the most exalted emotion, and he
+turned upon his loyal chum the whole force of his affectionate nature.
+He did not look up to Jack; he loved him more as a man loves his younger
+brother, and yet even to him he would not utter the words young Slocum
+had flung at him. Lawyer Talcott had asked young Burns to get at this if
+possible, for purpose of defense, but it was not possible.
+
+The court met on the first Tuesday in September. The day was windless
+and warm, and as Harold walked across the yard with the sheriff he
+looked around at the maple leaves, just touched with crimson and gold
+and russet, and his heart ached with desire to be free. The scent of the
+open air made his nostrils quiver like those of a deer.
+
+Jack met them on the path--eager to share his hero's trouble.
+
+"Please, sheriff, let me walk with Harry."
+
+"Fall in behind," the sheriff gruffly replied; and so out of all the
+town people Jack alone associated himself with the prisoner. Up the
+stairs whereon he had romped when a lad, Harold climbed spiritlessly, a
+boy no longer.
+
+The halls were lined with faces, everyone as familiar as the scarred and
+scratched wall of the court room, and yet all were now alien--no one
+recognized him by a frank and friendly nod, and he moved past his old
+companions with sullen and rigid face. His father met him at the door
+and walked beside him down the aisle to a seat.
+
+The benches were crowded, and every foot of standing space was soon
+filled. The members of the First Church were present in mass to see the
+minister enter, pale and haggard with the disgrace of his son.
+
+The judge, an untidy old man of great ability and probity, was in his
+seat, looking out absently over the spectators. "The next case" to him
+was _only_ a case. He had grown gray in dealing with infractions of the
+law, and though kindly disposed he had grown indifferent--use had dulled
+his sympathies. His beard, yellow with tobacco stain, was still
+venerable, and his voice, deep and melodious, was impressive and
+commanding.
+
+He was disposed to cut short all useless forms, and soon brought the
+case to vital questions. Naturally, the prosecution made a great deal of
+Harold's bad character, drawing from ready witnesses the story of his
+misdeeds. To do this was easy, for the current set that way, and those
+who had only _thought_ Harold a bad boy now _knew_ that he was concerned
+in all the mischief of the village.
+
+In rebuttal, Mr. Talcott drew out contradictory statements from these
+witnesses, and proved several alibis at points where Harold had been
+accused. He produced Jack Burns and several others to prove that Harold
+liked fun, but that he was not inclined to lead in any of the mischief
+of the town--in fact, that he had not the quality of leadership.
+
+He pushed young Burns hard to get him to say that he knew the words of
+insult which Slocum had used. "I think he used some girl's name," he
+finally admitted.
+
+"I object," shouted the prosecution, as if touched on a hidden spring.
+
+"Go on," said the judge to Talcott. He had become interested in the case
+at last.
+
+When the lawyer for the prosecution cross-examined young Burns he became
+terrible. He leaned across the table and shook his lean, big-jointed
+finger in Jack's face. "We don't want what you _think_, sir; we want
+what you know. Do you _know_ that Slocum brought a girl's name into
+this?"
+
+"No, sir, I don't," replied Jack, red and perspiring.
+
+"That's all!" cried the attorney, leaning back in his chair with
+dramatic complacency.
+
+Others of Harold's companions were brow-beaten into declaring that he
+led them into all kinds of raids, and when Talcott tried to stem this
+tide by objection, the prosecution rose to say that the testimony was
+competent; that it was designed to show the dangerous character of the
+prisoner. "He is no gentle and guileless youth, y'r Honor, but a
+reckless young devil, given to violence. No one will go further than I
+in admiration of the Reverend Mr. Excell, but the fact of the son's
+lawless life can not be gainsaid."
+
+Slocum repeated his story on the stand and was unshaken by Bradley's
+cross-examination. Suddenly the defense said: "Stand, please."
+
+Slocum arose--a powerful, full-grown man.
+
+Bradley nodded at Harold. "Stand also."
+
+"I object," shrieked the prosecution.
+
+"State the objection," said the judge.
+
+"Keep your position," said Bradley sternly. "I want the jury to compare
+you."
+
+As the prisoner and the witness faced each other the court room
+blossomed with smiles. Harold looked very pale and delicate beside the
+coarse, muscular hostler, who turned red and looked foolish.
+
+Ultimately the judge sustained the objection, but the work was done. A
+dramatic contrast had been drawn, and the jury perceived the
+pusillanimity of Slocum's story. This was the position of the defense.
+Harold was a boy, the hostler had insulted him, had indeed struck him
+with a whip. Mad with rage, and realizing the greater strength of his
+assailant, the prisoner had drawn a knife.
+
+In rebuttal, the prosecution made much of Harold's fierce words. He
+meant to kill. He was a dangerous boy. "Speaking with due reverence for
+his parents," the lawyer said, "the boy has been a scourge. Again and
+again he has threatened his playmates with death. These facts must
+stand. The State is willing to admit the disparity of strength, so
+artfully set forth by the defense, but it must not be forgotten that the
+boy was known to carry deadly weapons, and that he was subject to blind
+rages. It was not, therefore, so much a question of punishing the boy as
+of checking his assaults upon society. To properly punish him here would
+have a most salutary effect upon his action in future. The jury must
+consider the case without sentiment."
+
+Old Brown arose after the State had finished. Everyone knew his power
+before a jury, and the room was painfully silent as he walked with
+stately tread to a spittoon and cleared his mouth of a big wad of
+tobacco. He was the old-fashioned lawyer, formal, deliberate; and though
+everybody enjoyed Bradley Talcott's powerful speech, they looked for
+drama from Brown. The judge waited patiently while the famous old lawyer
+played his introductory part. At last, after silently pacing to and fro
+for a full minute, he turned, and began in a hard, dry, nasal voice.
+
+"Your Honor, I'm not so sure of the reforming effect of a penitentiary.
+I question the salutary quality of herding this delicate and
+high-spirited youth with the hardened criminals of the State." His
+strident, monotonous tone, and the cynical inflections of his voice made
+the spectators shiver with emotion as under the power of a great actor.
+He paced before the judge twice before speaking again. "Your Honor,
+there is more in this case than has yet appeared. Everyone in this room
+knows that the elopement of Dorothy Burland is at the bottom of this
+affair, everyone but yourself, judge. This lad was the accepted
+sweetheart of that wayward miss. This man Slocum is one of the rough,
+loud-spoken men of the village, schooled in vice and fisticuffery. You
+can well imagine, gentlemen of the jury," he turned to them abruptly,
+"you can well imagine the kind of a greeting this town loafer would give
+this high-spirited boy on that morning after the night when his
+_inamorata_ disappeared with a married man. The boy has in him somewhat
+of the knight of the old time, your Honor; he has never opened his lips
+in dispraise of his faithless love. He has refused to repeat the
+insulting words of his assailant. He stands to-day at a turning point of
+his life, gentlemen of the jury, and it depends on you whether he goes
+downward or upward. He has had his faith in women shaken: don't let him
+lose faith in law and earthly justice." His first gesture was on the
+word "downward," and it was superb.
+
+Again he paused, and when he looked up again a twinkle was in his eyes
+and his voice was softer. "As for all this chicken roasting and melon
+lifting, you well know the spirit that is in that; we all had a hand in
+such business once, every man Jack of us. The boy is no more culpable
+now than you were then. Moreover, Excell has had too much of the
+mischief of the town laid on his shoulders--more than he deserves. 'Give
+a dog a bad name and every dead sheep is laid at the door of his
+kennel.'
+
+"However, I don't intend to review the case, y'r Honor. My colleague has
+made the main and vital points entirely clear; I intend merely to add a
+word here and there. I want you to take another look at that pale,
+handsome, poetic youth and then at that burly bully, and consider the
+folly, the idiocy, and the cowardice of the charge brought against our
+client." He waited while the contrast which his dramatic utterance made
+enormously effective was being felt; then, in a deep, melodious voice,
+touched with sadness, he addressed the judge:
+
+"And to you, your Honor, I want to say we are old men. You on the bench
+and I here in the forum have faced each other many times. I have
+defended many criminals, as it was my duty to do, and you have punished
+many who deserved their sentences. I have seen innocent men unable to
+prove their freedom from guilt, and I have known men who are grossly
+criminal, because of lack of evidence--these things are beyond our
+cure. We are old, your Honor: we must soon give place to younger men. We
+can not afford to leave bench and bar with the stain of injustice on our
+garments. We can not afford to start this boy on the road to hell at
+seventeen years of age."
+
+He stopped as abruptly as he had begun, and the room was silent for a
+long time after he had taken his seat. To Harold it seemed as though he
+and all the people of the room were dead--that only his brain was alive.
+Then Mrs. Excell burst into sobbing. The judge looked away into space,
+his dim eyes seeing nothing that was near, his face an impassive mask of
+colorless flesh. The old lawyer's words had stirred his blood, sluggish
+and cold with age, but his brain absorbed the larger part of his roused
+vitality, and when he spoke his voice had an unwontedly flat and dry
+sound.
+
+"The question for you to decide," he said, instructing the jury, "is
+whether the boy struck the blow in self-defense, or whether he assaulted
+with intent to do great bodily injury. The fact that he was provoked by
+a man older and stronger than himself naturally militates in his favor,
+but the next question is upon the boy's previous character. Did he carry
+deadly weapons? Is he at heart dangerous to his fellows? His youth
+should be in mind, but it should also be remembered that he is a lad of
+high intellectual power, older than most men of his age. I will not
+dwell upon the case; you have heard the testimony; the verdict is in
+your keeping."
+
+During all this period of severe mental strain Mr. Excell sat beside
+Lawyer Brown, motionless as a statue, save when now and again he leaned
+forward to whisper a suggestion. He did not look at his son, and Harold
+seldom looked at him. Jack Burns sat as near the prisoner as the sheriff
+would permit, and his homely, good face, and the face of the judge were
+to Harold the only spots of light in the otherwise dark room. Outside
+the voices of children could be heard and the sound of the rising wind
+in the rustling trees. Once a breeze sent a shower of yellow and crimson
+leaves fluttering in at the open window, and the boy's heart swelled
+high in his throat, and he bowed his head and sobbed. Those leaves
+represented the splendor of the open spaces to him. They were like
+messages from the crimson sunsets of the golden West, and his heart
+thrilled at the sight of them.
+
+It was long after twelve o'clock, and an adjournment for dinner was
+ordered. Harold was about to be led away when his father came to him and
+said:
+
+"Harold, would you like to have your mother and me go to dinner with
+you?"
+
+With that same unrelenting, stubborn frown on his face the boy replied:
+"No--let me alone."
+
+A hot flush swept over the preacher's face. "Very well," he said, and
+turned away, his lips twitching.
+
+The jury was not long out. They were ready to report at three o'clock.
+Every seat was filled as before. The lawyers came in, picking their
+teeth or smoking. The ladies were in Sunday dress, the young men were
+accompanied by their girls, as if the trial were a dramatic
+entertainment. Those who failed of regaining their seats were much
+annoyed; others, more thrifty, had hired boys to keep their places for
+them during the noon hour, and others, still more determined, having
+brought lunches, had remained in their seats throughout the
+intermission, and were serene and satisfied.
+
+Harold was brought back to his seat looking less haggard. He was not
+afraid of sentence; on the contrary he longed to have the suspense end.
+
+"I don't care what they do with me if they don't use up too much of my
+life," he said to Jack. "I'll pound rock or live in a dungeon if it will
+only shorten my sentence. I hate to think of losing time. Oh, if I had
+only gone last year!"
+
+The Reverend Excell came in, looming high above the crowd, his face
+still white and set. He paid no heed to his parishioners, but made his
+way to the side of Lawyer Brown. The judge mounted his bench and the
+court room came to order instantly.
+
+"Is the jury ready to report on the case of the State _vs._ Excell?" he
+asked in a low voice. He was informed that they were agreed. After the
+jury had taken their seats he said blandly, mechanically: "Gentlemen, we
+are ready for your verdict."
+
+Harold knew the foreman very well. He was a carpenter and joiner in
+whose shop he had often played--a big, bluff, good-hearted man whom any
+public speaking appalled, and who stammered badly as he read from a
+little slip of paper: "Guilty of assault with intent to commit great
+bodily injury, but recommended to the mercy of the judge." Then, with
+one hand in his breeches pocket, he added: "Be easy on him, judge; I
+believe I'd 'a' done the same."
+
+The spectators tittered at his abrupt change of tone, and some of the
+young people applauded. He sat down very hot and red.
+
+The judge did not smile or frown; his expressionless face seemed more
+like a mask than ever. When he began to speak it was as though he were
+reading something writ in huge letters on a distant wall.
+
+"The Court is quite sensible of the extenuating circumstances attending
+this sad case, but there are far-reaching considerations which the Court
+can not forget. Here is a youth of good family, who elects to take up a
+life filled with mischief from the start. Discipline has been lacking.
+Here, at last, he so far oversteps the law that he appears before a
+jury. It seems to the Court necessary, for this young man's own good,
+that he feel the harsh hand of the law. According to the evidence
+adduced here to-day, he has been for years beyond the control of his
+parents, and must now know the inflexible purpose of law. I have in mind
+all that can be said in his favor: his youth, the disparity of age and
+physical power between himself and his accuser, the provocation, and the
+possession of the whip by the accuser--but all these are more than
+counterbalanced by the record of mischief and violence which stands
+against the prisoner."
+
+There was a solemn pause, and the judge sternly said: "Prisoner, stand
+up." Harold arose. "For an assault committed upon the person of one
+Clinton Slocum, I now sentence you, Harold Excell, to one year in the
+penitentiary, and may you there learn to respect the life and property
+of your fellow-citizens."
+
+"Judge! I beg----" The tall form of Mr. Excell arose, seeking to speak.
+
+The judge motioned him to silence.
+
+Brown interposed: "I hope the court will not refuse to hear the father
+of the prisoner. It would be scant justice if----"
+
+Mr. Excell's voice arose, harsh, stern, and quick. He spoke like the big
+man he was, firm and decided. Harold looked up at him in surprise.
+
+"I claim the right to be heard; will the Court refuse me the privilege
+of a word?" His voice was a challenge. "I am known in this community.
+For seven years as a minister of the Gospel I have lived among these
+citizens. My son is about to be condemned to State's prison, and before
+he goes I want to make a statement here before him and before the judge
+and before the world. I understand this boy better than any of you,
+better than the mother who bore him, for I have given him the
+disposition which he bears. I have had from my youth the same murderous
+rages: I have them yet. I love my son, your Honor, and I would take him
+in my arms if I could, but he has too much of my own spirit. He
+literally can not meet me as an affectionate son, for I sacrificed his
+good-will by harsh measures while he was yet a babe. I make this
+confession in order that the Court may understand my relation to my son.
+He was born with my own temper mingled with the poetic nature of his
+mother. While he was yet a lad I beat him till he was discolored by
+bruises. Twice I would have killed him only for the intervention of my
+wife. I have tried to live down my infirmity, your Honor, and I have at
+last secured control of myself, and I believe this boy will do the same,
+but do not send him to be an associate with criminals. My God! do not
+treat him as I would not do, even in my worst moments. Give him a chance
+to reform outside State's prison. Don't fix on him that stain. I will
+not say send me--that would be foolish trickery--but I beg you to make
+some other disposition of this boy of mine. If he goes to the
+penitentiary I shall strip from my shoulders the dress of the clergyman
+and go with him, to be near to aid and comfort him during the term of
+his sentence. Let the father in you speak for me, judge. Be merciful, as
+we all hope for mercy on the great day, for Jesus' sake."
+
+The judge looked out over the audience of weeping women and his face
+warmed into life. He turned to the minister, who still stood before him
+with hand outstretched, and when he spoke his voice was softened and his
+eyes kindly.
+
+"The Court has listened to the words of the father with peculiar
+interest. The Court _is_ a father, and has been at a loss to understand
+the relations existing between father and son in this case. The Court
+thinks he understands them better now. As counsel for the defense has
+said, I am an old man, soon to leave my seat upon the bench, and I do
+not intend to let foolish pride or dry legal formalities stand between
+me and the doing of justice. The jury has decided that the boy is
+guilty, but has recommended him to the mercy of the Court. The plea of
+the father has enlightened the Court on one or two most vital points.
+Nothing is further from the mind of the Court than the desire to do
+injury to a handsome and talented boy. Believing that the father and son
+are about to become more closely united, the Court here transmutes the
+sentence to one hundred dollars fine and six months in the county jail.
+This will make it possible for the son and father to meet often, and the
+father can continue his duties to the church. This the Court decides
+upon as the final disposition of the accused. The case is closed. Call
+the next case."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE EAGLE'S EYES GROW DIM
+
+
+The county jail in Cedar County was a plain, brick structure set in the
+midst of the Court House Square. Connected with it was the official
+residence of the sheriff, and brick walks ran diagonally from corner to
+corner for the convenience of citizens. Over these walks magnificent
+maples flung gorgeous banners in autumn, and it was a favorite promenade
+for the young people of the town at all seasons, even in winter.
+
+At times when the jail was filled with disorderly inmates these innocent
+lovers could hear the wild yells and see the insulting gestures of the
+men at the windows, but ordinarily the grounds were quiet and peaceful.
+The robins nested in the maples, the squirrels scampered from tree to
+tree, and little children tumbled about on the grass, unmindful of the
+sullen captives within the walls.
+
+For seven years Harold himself had played about this yard, hearing the
+wild voices of the prisoners and seeing men come and go in irons. Over
+these walks he had loitered with Dot--now he was one of those who clawed
+at the window bars like monkeys in a cage in order to look out at the
+sunshine of the world. The jail pallor was already on his face and a
+savage look was in his eyes. He refused to see anyone but Jack, who came
+often and whose coming saved him from despair.
+
+In one respect the county jail was worse, than the State's prison; it
+had nothing for its captives to do. They ate, amused themselves as best
+they could through the long day, and slept. Most of them brooded, like
+Harold, on the sunshine lost to them, and paced their cells like wild
+animals. It had, however, the advantage of giving to each man a separate
+bed at night, though during the day they occupied a common corridor.
+Some of them sang indecent songs and cursed their fellows for their
+stupidity, and fights were not uncommon.
+
+The jailer was inclined to allow Harold more liberty after his trial,
+but the boy said: "I'm not asking any favors from you. I'm working out a
+sentence."
+
+He continued his systematic exercise, eating regularly and with care in
+order that he should keep his health. He spent several hours each day
+leaping up the stairway which led from the lower cells to the upper, and
+his limbs were like bundles of steel rods. He could spring from the
+floor, catch the hand rail of the runway above, and swing himself with a
+single effort to the upper cells. Every possible combination of strength
+and agility which the slender variety of means allowed he used, and not
+one of all the prisoners cared to try muscular conclusions with him.
+Occasionally a new prisoner would experiment, but those who held over
+knew better than to "bother the kid." When a rash and doubting man tried
+it, he repented it in cotton cloth and arnica.
+
+The only way in which Harold could be enticed into the residence part of
+the jail was by sending Jack to call upon him.
+
+At such times the jailer gave him plenty of time, and Harold poured
+forth his latest plans in a swift torrent. He talked of nothing but the
+West. "My sentence will be out in April," he said; "just the right time
+to go. You must make all arrangements for me, old man. You take my money
+and get these things for me. I want a six-shooter, the best you can
+find, the kind they use out on the plains, and a belt and ammunition. I
+want a valise--a good strong one; and I want you to put all my clothes
+in it--I mean my underclothes--I won't need cuffs and collars and such
+knickknacks out there. I shall never enter father's door again. Then I
+want you to be on the lookout for a chance to drive cattle for somebody
+going West. We'll find chances enough, and we'll strike for Abilene and
+your uncle's place. I haven't money enough to carry me out there on the
+train. Oh! won't it be good fun when we have a good horse apiece and go
+riding across the plains herding the longhorns! That's life, that is! If
+I'd only gone last year, out where the buffalo and the antelope are!"
+
+At such times the eagle's heart in the youth could scarcely endure the
+pale, cold light of the prison. For an hour after one of these talks
+with Jack he tore around his cell like a crazed wolf, till his weary
+muscles absorbed the ache in his heart.
+
+During the winter the Young Men's Christian Association of the town
+organized what they called a Prison Rescue Band, which held services in
+the jail each Sunday afternoon. They were a great bore to Harold, who
+knew the members of the band and disliked most of them. He considered
+them "a little off their nut"--that is to say, fanatic. He kept his cell
+closely, and the devoted ones seldom caught a glimpse of him, though he
+was the chief object of their care. They sang Pull for the Shore, Trust
+it all with Jesus, and other well-worn Moody and Sankey hymns, and the
+leader prayed resoundingly, and then, one by one, the others made
+little talks to the prison walls. There was seldom a face to be seen.
+Muttered curses occasionally rumbled from the cells where the prisoners
+were trying to sleep.
+
+But the leader was a shrewd young man, and not many Sundays after his
+initial attempt the prisoners were amazed to hear female voices joining
+in the songs. Heads appeared at every door to see the girls, who stood
+timidly behind the men and sang (in quavering voices) the songs that
+persuaded to grace.
+
+Some of these girlish messengers of mercy Harold knew, but others were
+strange to him. The seminary was in session again and new pupils had
+entered. For the most part they were colorless and plain, and the
+prisoners ceased to show themselves during the singing. Harold lay on
+his iron bed dreaming of the wild lands whose mountains he could see
+shining through his prison walls. Jack had purchased for him some
+photographs of the Rocky Mountains, and when he desired to forget his
+surroundings he had but to look on the seamless dome of Sierra Blanca or
+the San Francisco peaks, or at the image of the limpid waters of
+Trapper's Lake, and like the conjurer's magic crystal sphere, it cured
+him of all his mental maladies, set him free and a-horse.
+
+But one Sabbath afternoon he heard a new voice, a girl's voice, so sweet
+and tender and true he could not forbear to look out upon the singer.
+She was small and looked very pale under the white light of the high
+windows. She was singing alone, a wonderful thing in itself, and in her
+eyes was neither fear nor maidenly shrinking; she was indeed thrillingly
+absorbed and self-forgetful. There was something singular and arresting
+in the poise of her head. Her eyes seemed to look through and beyond the
+prison walls, far into some finer, purer land than any earthly feet had
+trod, and her song had a touch of genuine poetry in it:
+
+    "If I were a voice, a persuasive voice,
+    That could travel the whole earth through,
+    I would fly on the wings of the morning light
+    And speak to men with a gentle might
+    And tell them to be true--
+    If I were a voice."
+
+The heart of the boy expanded. Music and poetry and love were waked in
+him by the voice of this singing girl. To others she was merely simple
+and sweet; to him she was a messenger. The vibrant, wistful cadence of
+her voice when she uttered the words "And tell them to be true," dropped
+down into the boy's sullen and lonely heart. He did not look at her, but
+all the week he wondered about her. He thought of her almost
+constantly, and the words she sang lay in his ears, soothing and healing
+like some subtle Oriental balm. "On the wings of the morning light" was
+one haunting phrase--the other was, "And tell them to be true."
+
+The other prisoners had been touched. Only one or two ventured coarse
+remarks about her, and they were speedily silenced by their neighbors.
+Harold was eager to seek Jack in order to learn the girl's name, but
+Jack was at home, sick of a cold, and did not visit him during the week.
+
+On the following Sunday she did not come, and the singing seemed
+suddenly a bitter mockery to Harold, who sought to solace himself with
+his pictures. The second week wore away and Jack came, but by that time
+the image of the girl had taken such aloofness of position in Harold's
+mind that he dared not ask about her, even of his loyal chum.
+
+At last she came again, and when she had finished singing Not half has
+ever been told, some prisoner started hand clapping, and a volley of
+applause made the cells resound. The girl started in dismay, and then,
+as she understood the meaning of this noise, a beautiful flush swept
+over her face and she shrank swiftly into shadow.
+
+But a man from an upper cell bawled: "Sing The Voice, miss! sing The
+Voice!"
+
+The leader of the band said: "Sing for them, Miss Yardwell."
+
+Again she sang If I were a Voice, and out of the cells the prisoners
+crept, one by one, and at last Harold. She did not see him till she had
+finished the last verse, and then he stood so close to her he could have
+touched her, and his solemn dark eyes burned so strangely into her face
+that she shrank away from him in awe and terror. She knew him--no one
+else but the minister's son could be so handsome and so refined of
+feature.
+
+"You're that voice, miss," one of the men called out.
+
+"That's right," replied the others in chorus.
+
+The girl was abashed, but the belief that she was leading these sinners
+to a merciful Saviour exalted her and she sang again. Harold crept as
+near as he could--so near he could see her large gray eyes, into which
+the light fell as into a mountain lake. Every man there perceived the
+girl's divine purity of purpose. She was stainless as a summer cloud--a
+passionless, serene child, with the religious impulse strong within her.
+She could not have been more than seventeen years of age, and yet so
+dignified and composed was her attitude she seemed a mature woman. She
+was not large, but she was by no means slight, and though colorless, her
+pallor was not that of ill health.
+
+Her body resembled that of a sturdy child, straight in the back, wide in
+the waist, and meager of bosom.
+
+Her voice and her eyes subdued the beast in the men. An indefinable
+personal quality ran through her utterance, a sadness, a sympathy, and
+an intuitive comprehension of the sin of the world unusual in one so
+young. She had been carefully reared: that was evident in every gesture
+and utterance. Her dress was a studiously plain gray gown, not without a
+little girlish ornament at the neck and bosom. Every detail of her
+lovely personality entered Harold's mind and remained there. He had
+hardly reached the analytic stage in matters of this kind, but he knew
+very well that this girl was like her song; she could die but never
+deceive. He wondered what her first name could be; no girl like that
+would be called "Dot" or "Cad." It ought to be Lily or Marguerite. He
+was glad to hear one of the girls call her Mary.
+
+He gazed at her almost without ceasing, but as the other convicts did
+the same he was not observably devoted, and whenever she raised her big,
+clear eyes toward him both shrank, he from a sense of unworthiness, she
+from the instinctive fear of men which a young girl of her type has
+deep-planted within her. She studied him shyly when she dared, and after
+the first song sang only for him. She prayed for him when the Band
+knelt on the stone floor, and at night in her room she plead for him
+before God.
+
+The boy was smitten with a sudden sense of his crime, not in the way of
+a repentant sinner, but as one who loves a sweet and gentle woman. All
+that his father's preaching and precept could not do, all that the
+judge, jury, and prison could not do, this slip of a girl did with a
+glance of her big gray eyes and the tremor of her voice in song. All his
+misdeeds arose up suddenly as a wall between him and the girl singer.
+His hard heart melted. The ugly lines went out of his face and it grew
+boyish once more, but sadder than ever.
+
+His was not a nature to rest inactive. He poured out a hundred questions
+to Jack who could not answer half a dozen of them. "Who is she? Where
+does she live? Do you know her? Is she a good scholar? Does she go to
+church? I hope she don't talk religion. Does she go to parties? Does she
+dance?"
+
+Jack replied as well as he was able. "She's a queer kind of a girl. She
+don't dance or go to parties at all. She's an awful fine scholar. She
+sings in the choir. Most of the boys are afraid to speak to her, she's
+so distant. She just says 'Yes,' or 'No,' when you ask her anything.
+She's religious--goes to prayer meeting and Sunday school. About a dozen
+boys go to prayer meeting just because she goes and sings. Her folks
+live in Waverly, but she boards with her aunt, Mrs. Brown. Now, that's
+all I can tell you about her. She's in some of my classes, but I dassent
+talk to her."
+
+"Jack, she's the best and grandest girl I ever saw. I'm going to write
+to her."
+
+Jack wistfully replied: "I wish you was out o' here, old man."
+
+Harold became suddenly optimistic. "Never you mind, Jack. It won't be
+long till I am. I'm going to write to her to-day. You get a pencil and
+paper for me quick."
+
+Jack's admiration of Harold was too great to admit of any question of
+his design. He would have said no one else was worthy to tie Mary's
+shoe, for he, too, worshiped her--but afar off. He was one of those whom
+women recognize only as gentle and useful beings, plain and unobtrusive.
+
+He brought the pad and pencil and sat by while the letter was written.
+Harold's was not a nature of finedrawn distinctions; he wrote as he
+fought, swift and determined, and the letter was soon finished, read,
+and approved by Jack.
+
+"Now, don't you let anybody see you give that to her," Harold said in
+parting.
+
+"Trust me," Jack stanchly replied, and both felt that here was business
+of greatest importance. Jack proceeded at once to walk on the street
+which led past Mary's boarding place, and hung about the corner, in the
+hope of meeting Mary on her return from school. He knew very exactly her
+hours of recitation and at last she came, her arms filled with books,
+moving with such stately step she seemed a woman, tall and sedate. She
+perceived Jack waiting, but was not alarmed, for she comprehended
+something of his goodness and timidity.
+
+He took off his cap with awkward formality. "Miss Yardwell, may I speak
+with you a moment?"
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Burns," she replied, quite as formally as he.
+
+He fell into step with her and walked on.
+
+"You know--my chum--" he began, breathing hard, "my chum, Harry Excell,
+is in jail. You see, he had a fight with a great big chap, Clint Slocum,
+and Clint struck Harry with a whip. Of course Harry couldn't stand that
+and he cut Clint with his knife; of course he had to do it, for you see
+Clint was big as two of him and he'd just badgered the life out of Harry
+for a month, and so they jugged Harry, and he's there--in jail--and I
+suppose you've seen him; he's a fine-looking chap, dark hair, well
+built. He's a dandy ball player and skates bully; I wish you could see
+him shoot. We're going out West together when he gets out o' jail. Well,
+he saw you and he liked you, and he wrote you a letter and wanted me to
+hand it to you when no one was looking. Here it is: hide it, quick."
+
+She took the letter, mechanically moved to do so by his imperative voice
+and action, and slipped it into her algebra. When she turned to speak
+Jack was gone, and she walked on, flushed with excitement, her breath
+shortened and quickened. She had a fair share of woman's love of romance
+and of letters, and she hurried a little in order that she might the
+sooner read the message of the dark-eyed, pale boy in the jail.
+
+It was well she did not meet Mrs. Brown as she entered, for the limpid
+gray of her eyes was clouded with emotion. She climbed the stairs to her
+room and quickly opened the note. It began abruptly:
+
+    "DEAR FRIEND: It is mighty good of you to come and sing to us poor
+    cusses in jail. I hope you'll come every Sunday. I like you. You
+    are the best girl I ever saw. Don't go to my father's church, he
+    ain't good enough to preach to you. I like you and I don't want
+    you to think I'm a hard case. I used up Clint Slocum because I had
+    to. He had hectored me about enough. He said some mean things about
+    me and some one else, and I soaked him once with my fist. He struck
+    me with the whip and downed me, then a kind of a cloud came into my
+    mind and I guess I soaked him with my knife, too. Anyhow they
+    jugged me for it. I don't care, I'd do it again. I'd cut his head
+    off if he said anything about you. Well, now I'm in here and I'm
+    sorry because I don't want you to think I'm a tough. I've done a
+    whole lot of things I had not ought to have done, but I never meant
+    to do anyone any harm.
+
+    "Now, I'm going West when I get out. I'm going into the cattle
+    business on the great plains, and I'm going to be a rich man, and
+    then I'm going to come back. I hope you won't get married before
+    that time for I'll have something to say to you. If you run across
+    any pictures of the mountains or the plains I wisht you'd send them
+    on to me. Next to you I like the life in the plains better than
+    anything.
+
+    "I hope you'll come every Sunday till I get out. Yours respec'fly,
+
+    "HAROLD EXCELL.
+
+    "Jack will give this to you. Jack is my chum; I'd trust him with my
+    life. He's all wool."
+
+The girl sat a long time with the letter in her hand. She was but a
+child, after all, and the lad's words alarmed and burdened her, for the
+meaning of the letter was plain. It was a message of love and
+admiration, and though it contained no subtleties, it came from one who
+was in jail, and she had been taught to regard people in jail as lost
+souls, aliens with whom it was dangerous to hold any intercourse, save
+in prayer and Scripture. The handsome boy with the sad face had appealed
+to her very deeply, and she bore him in her thoughts a great deal; but
+now he came in a new guise--as a lover, bold, outspoken, and persuasive.
+
+"What shall I do? Shall I tell Aunt Lida?" she asked herself, and ended
+by kneeling down and praying to Jesus to give the young man a new heart.
+
+In this fashion the courtship went on. No one knew of it but Jack, for
+Mary could not bring herself to confide in anyone, not even her mother,
+it all seemed too strange and beautiful. It was God's grace working
+through her, and her devoutness was not without its human mixture of
+girlish pride and exaltation. She worshiped him in her natural moments,
+and in her moments of religious fervor she prayed for him with
+impersonal anguish as for a lost soul. She did not consider him a
+criminal, but she thought him Godless and rebellious toward his
+Saviour.
+
+She wrote him quaint, formal little notes, which began abruptly, "My
+Friend." They contained much matter which was hortatory, but at times
+she became girlish and very charming. Gradually she dropped the tone
+which she had caught from revivalists and wrote of her studies and of
+the doings of each member of the class, and all other subjects which a
+young girl finds valuable material of conversation. She was just
+becoming acquainted with Victor Hugo and his resounding, antithetic
+phrases, and his humanitarian outcries filled her mind with commotion.
+Her heart swelled high with resolution to do something to help the world
+in general and Harold in particular.
+
+She was not one in whom passion ruled; the intellectual dominated the
+passional in her, and, besides, she was only a child. She was by no
+means as mature as Harold, although about the same age. Naturally
+reverent, she had been raised in a family where religious observances
+never remitted; where grace was always spoken. In this home her looks
+were seldom alluded to in any way, and vanity was not in her. She had
+her lovelinesses; her hair was long and fair, her eyes were beautiful,
+and her skin was of exquisite purity, like her eyes. Her charm lay in
+her modesty and quaint dignity, her grave and gentle gaze, and in her
+glorious voice.
+
+The Reverend Excell was pleased to hear that his son was bearing
+confinement very well, and made another effort to see him. Simply
+because Mary wished it, Harold consented to see his father, and they
+held a long conversation, at least the father talked and the boy
+listened. In effect, the minister said:
+
+"My son, I have forfeited your good will--that I know--but I think you
+do me an injustice. I know you think I am a liar and a hypocrite because
+you have seen me in rages and because I have profaned God in your
+presence. My boy, let me tell you, in every man there are two natures.
+When one is uppermost, actions impossible to the other nature become
+easy. You will know this, you should know it now, for in you there is
+the same murderous madman that is in me. You must fight him down. I love
+you, my son," he said, and his voice was deep and tremulous, "and it
+hurts me to have you stand aloof from me. I have tried to do my duty. I
+have almost succeeded in putting my worst self under my feet, and I
+think if you were to come to understand me you would not be so hard
+toward me. It is not a little thing to me that you, my only son, turn
+your face away from me. On the day of your trial I thought we came
+nearer to an understanding than in many years."
+
+Harold felt the justice of his father's plea and his heart swelled with
+emotion, but something arose up between his heart and his lips and he
+remained silent.
+
+Mr. Excell bent his great, handsome head and plead as a lover pleads,
+but the pale lad, with bitter and sullen mien, listened in silence. At
+last the father ended; there was a pause.
+
+"I want you to come home when your term ends," he said. "Will you
+promise that?"
+
+Harold said, "No, I can't do that. I'm going out West."
+
+"I shall not prevent you, my son, but I want you to come and take your
+place at the table just once. There is a special reason for this. Will
+you come for a single day?"
+
+Harold forced himself to answer, "Yes."
+
+Mr. Excell raised his head.
+
+"Let us shake hands over your promise, my boy."
+
+Harold arose and they shook hands. The father's eyes were wet with
+tears. "I can't afford to forfeit your good opinion," Mr. Excell went
+on, "especially now when you are leaving me, perhaps forever. I think
+you are right in going. There is no chance for you here; perhaps out
+there in the great West you may get a start. Of my shortcomings as a
+father you know, and I suppose you can never love me as a son should,
+but I think you will see some day that I am not a hypocrite, and that I
+failed as a father more through neglect and passion than through any
+deliberate injustice."
+
+The boy struggled for words to express himself; at last he burst forth:
+"I don't blame you at all, only let me go where I can do something worth
+while: you bother me so."
+
+The minister dropped his son's hand and a look of the deepest sadness
+came over his face. He had failed--Harold was farther away from him than
+ever. He turned and went out without another word.
+
+That he had hurt his father Harold knew, but in exactly what other way
+he could have acted he could not tell. The overanxiety on the father's
+part irritated the boy. Had he been less morbid, less self-accusing, he
+would have won. Harold passionately loved strength and decision,
+especially in a big man like his father, who looked like a soldier and a
+man of action, and who ought not to cry like a woman. If only he would
+act all the time as he did when he threw the sheriff across the walk
+that day on the street. "I wish he'd stop preaching and go to work at
+something," he said to Jack. The psychology of the father's attitude
+toward him was incomprehensible. He could get along very well without a
+father; why could not his father get along without him? He hated all
+this fuss, anyway. It only made him feel sorry and perplexed, and he
+wished sincerely that his father would let him alone.
+
+Jack brought a letter from Mary which troubled him.
+
+"I am going home in March, a week before the term ends. Mother
+isn't very well, and just as soon as I can I must go. If I do, you
+must not forget me."
+
+    Of course he wrote in reply, saying:
+
+    "Don't you go till I see you. You must come in and see
+    me. Can't you come in when Jack does, he knows all about us,
+    COME SURE. I can't go without a good-by kiss. Don't you go
+    back on me now.  Come."
+
+"I'm afraid to come," she replied, "people would find out
+ everything and talk. Besides you mustn't kiss me. We are not
+ regularly engaged, and so it would not be right."
+
+    "We'll be engaged in about two minutes if you'll meet me with
+    Jack," he replied. "You're the best girl in the world and I'm
+    going to marry you when I get rich enough to come back and
+    build you a house to be in, I'm going out where the cattle
+    are thick as grasshoppers, and I'm going to be a cattle king
+    and then you can be a cattle queen and ride around with me on
+    our ranch, that's what they call a farm out there. Now,
+    you're my girl and you must wait for me to come back. Don't
+    you get impatient, sometimes a chap has a hard time just to
+    get a start, after that it's easy. Jack will go with me, he
+    will be my friend and share everything.
+
+    "Now you come and call me sweetheart and I'll call you angel,
+    for that's what you are. Get to be a great singer, and go
+    about the country singing to make men like me good, you can
+    do it, only don't let them fall in love with you, they do
+    that too just the way I did, but don't let 'em do it for you
+    are mine. You're my sweetheart. From your sweetheart,
+
+    "HARRY EXCELL, Cattle King."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE CAGE OPENS
+
+
+Before Harold's day of freedom came Mary was called home by a telegram
+from her father. She longed to see Harold before she left, but she was
+too much hurried to seek out Jack, the loyal go-between, and dared not
+send a letter by any other hands. She went away without sending him a
+word of good-by.
+
+So it happened that the last week of Harold's captivity was spent in
+loneliness and bitter sorrow, and even when Jack came he brought very
+little information concerning Mary's flight, and Harold was bitter and
+accusing.
+
+"Why didn't she write to me? Why didn't she come to see me?"
+
+Jack pleaded for her as well as he was able. "She hadn't time, maybe."
+
+Harold refused to accept this explanation. "If she had cared for me,
+she'd have sent me word--she could take time for that."
+
+No letter came in the days which followed, and at last he put her out of
+his heart and turned his face to the sunset land which now called to
+the sad heart within him with imperious voice. Out there he could forget
+all his hurts.
+
+On the morning when the jailer opened the door for him to leave the iron
+corridor in which he had spent so many months, his father met him, and
+the white face of the boy made the father's heart contract. Harold's
+cheeks were plump and boyish, but there was a look in his face which
+made him seem a youth of twenty.
+
+The family stood in the jailer's parlor to receive him, and he submitted
+to their caresses with cold dignity. His manner plainly expressed this
+feeling: "You are all strangers to me." But he turned to Jack and
+gripped his hand hard. "Now for the plains!"
+
+Side by side the father and son passed out into the sunshine. The boy
+drew an audible breath, as if in sudden, keen pain. Around him lay the
+bare, brown earth of March. The sun was warm and a subtle odor of lately
+uncovered sward was in the air. The wind, soft, warm, and steady, blew
+from the west. Here and there a patch of grass, faintly green, showed
+where sullen snow banks had lately lain. And the sky! Filled with clouds
+almost as fleecy and as white as June, the sky covered him, and when he
+raised his eyes to it he saw a triangular flock of geese sweeping to
+the northwest, serene and apparently effortless.
+
+He could not speak--did not wish to hear any speech but that of Nature,
+and the father seemed to comprehend his son's mood, for he, too, walked
+in silence.
+
+The people of the village knew that Harold was to return to freedom that
+day, and with one excuse or another they came to the doors to see him
+pass. Some of them were genuinely sympathetic, and bowed and smiled,
+intending to say, "Let by-gones be by-gones," but to their greetings
+Harold remained blankly unresponsive. Jack would gladly have walked with
+Harold, but out of consideration for the father fell into step behind.
+
+The girls--some of them--had the grace to weep when they saw Harold's
+sad face. Others tittered and said: "Ain't he awful pale." For the most
+part, the citizens considered his punishment sufficient, and were
+disposed to give him another chance. To them, Harold, by his manner,
+intended to reply: "I don't want any favors. I won't accept any chance
+from you. I despise you and I don't want to see you again."
+
+He looked upon the earth and the sky rather than upon the faces of his
+fellows. His natural love of Nature had been intensified by his
+captivity, while a bitter contempt and suspicion of all men and women
+had grown up in his mind. He entered his father's house with reluctance
+and loathing.
+
+The day was one of preparation. Jack had carried out, so far as he well
+could, the captive's wishes. His gun, his clothing, and his valise were
+ready for him, and Mrs. Excell had washed and ironed all his linen with
+scrupulous care. His sister Maud had made a little "housewife" for him,
+and filled it with buttons and needles and thread, a gift he did not
+value, even from her.
+
+"I'm going out West to herd cattle, not to cobble trousers," he said
+contemptuously.
+
+Jack had a report to make. "Harry, I've found a chance for you," he said
+when they were alone. "There was a man moving to Colorado here on
+Saturday. He said he could use you, but of course I had to tell him you
+couldn't go for a few days. He's just about to Roseville now. I'll tell
+you what you do. You get on the train and go to Roseville--I'll let you
+have the money--and you strike him when he comes through. His name is
+Pratt. He's a tall old chap, talks queer. Of course he may have a hand
+now, but anyway you must get out o' here. He wouldn't take you if he
+knew you'd been in jail."
+
+"Aren't you going?" asked Harold sharply.
+
+Jack looked uneasy. "Not now, Harry. You see, I want to graduate, I'm so
+near through. It wouldn't do to quit now. I'll stay till fall. I'll get
+to Uncle John's place about the time you do."
+
+Harold said no more, but his face darkened with disappointment.
+
+The call to dinner brought them all together once more, and the
+minister's grace became a short prayer for the safety of his son, broken
+again and again by the weakness of his own voice and by the sobs of Maud
+and Mrs. Excell. Harold sat with rigid face, fixed in a frown. The meal
+proceeded in sad silence, for each member of the family felt that Harold
+was leaving them never to return.
+
+Jack's plan was determined upon, and after dinner he went to hitch up
+his horse to take Harry out to the farm. The family sat in painful
+suspense for a few moments after Jack went out, and then Mr. Excell
+said:
+
+"My son, we have never been friends, and the time is past when I can
+expect to win your love and confidence, but I hope you will not go away
+with any bitterness in your heart toward me." He waited a moment for his
+son to speak, but Harold continued silent, which again confused and
+pained the father, but he went on: "In proof of what I say I want to
+offer you some money to buy a horse and saddle when you need them."
+
+"I don't need any money," said Harold, a little touched by the affection
+in his father's voice. "I can earn all the money I need."
+
+"Perhaps so, but a little money might be useful at the start. You will
+need a horse if you herd cattle."
+
+"I'll get my own horse--you'll need all you can earn," said Harold in
+reply.
+
+Mr. Excell's tone changed. "What makes you say that, Harold? What do you
+mean?"
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean anything in particular."
+
+"Have you heard of the faction which is growing up in the church against
+me?"
+
+Harold hesitated. "Yes--but I wasn't thinking of that particularly." He
+betrayed a little interest. "What's the matter with 'em?"
+
+"There has been an element in the church hostile to me from the first,
+and during your trial and sentence these persons have used every effort
+to spread a feeling against me. How wide it is I can not tell, but I
+know it is strong. It may end my work here, for I will not cringe to
+them. They will find me iron."
+
+Harold's heart warmed suddenly. Without knowing it the father had again
+struck the right note to win his son. "That's right," the boy said,
+"don't let 'em tramp on you."
+
+A lump arose in the minister's throat. There was something very sweet in
+Harold's sympathy. His eyes smiled, even while they were dim with tears.
+He held out his hand and Harold took it.
+
+"Well, now, my son, it's time for you to start. Don't you worry about
+me. I am a fighter when I am aroused."
+
+Harold smiled back into his face, and so it was that the two men parted,
+for the father, in a flash of insight, understood that no more than this
+could be gained; but his heart was lighter than it had been for many
+months as he saw his son ride away from his door.
+
+"Write often, Harold," he called after them.
+
+"All right. You let me know how the fight comes out. If they whip you,
+come out West," was Harold's reply; then he turned in his seat. "Drive
+ahead, Jack; there's no one now but your folks for whom I care."
+
+As they drove out along the muddy lanes the hearts of the two boys
+became very tender. Harold, filled with exaltation by every familiar
+thing--by the flights of ground sparrows, by the patches of green grass,
+by the smell of the wind, by the infrequent boom of the prairie
+chickens--talked incessantly.
+
+"What makes me maddest," he broke out, "is to think they've cheated me
+out of seeing one fall and one winter. I didn't see the geese fly
+south, and now here they are all going north again. Some time I mean to
+find out where they go to." He took off his hat. "This wind will mighty
+soon take the white out o' me, won't it?" He was very gay. He slapped
+his chum on the shoulder and shouted with excitement. "We must keep
+going, old man, till we strike the buffalo. They are the sign of wild
+country that _is_ wild. I want to get where there ain't any fences."
+
+Jack smiled sadly in reply. Harold knew he listened and so talked on. "I
+must work up a big case of sunburn before I strike Mr. Pratt for a job.
+Did he have extra horses?"
+
+"'Bout a dozen. His girl was driving the cattle, but he said----"
+
+"Girl? What kind of a girl?"
+
+"Oh, a kind of a tomboy, freckled--chews gum and says 'darn it!' That
+kind of a girl."
+
+Harold's face darkened. "I don't like the idea of that girl. She might
+have heard something, and then it would go hard with me."
+
+"Don't you worry. The Pratts ain't the kind of people that read
+newspapers; they didn't stop here but a day, anyhow."
+
+The sight of Mr. Burns and his wife at the gate moved Harold deeply.
+Mrs. Burns came hurrying out: "You blessed boy! Get right down and let
+me hug you," and as he leaped down she put her arms around him as if he
+were her own son, and Harold's eyes smarted with tears.
+
+"I declare," said Mr. Burns, "you look like a fightin' cock; must feed
+you well down there?"
+
+No note of doubt, hesitation, concealment, or shame was in their
+greetings and the boy knew it. They all sat around the kitchen, and
+chatted and laughed as if no ill thing had ever happened to him. Burns
+uttered the only doubtful word when he said: "I don't know about this
+running away from things here. I'd be inclined to stay here and fight it
+out."
+
+"But it isn't running away, Dad," said Jack. "Harry has always wanted to
+go West and now is the first time he has really had the chance."
+
+"That's so," admitted the father. "Still, I'm sorry to see him look like
+he was running away."
+
+Mrs. Burns was determined to feed Harry into complete torpor. She put up
+enough food in a basket to last him to San Francisco at the shortest.
+Even when the boys had entered the buggy she ordered them to wait while
+she brought out some sweet melon pickles in a jar to add to the
+collection.
+
+"Well, now, good-by," said Harold, reaching down his hand to Mrs.
+Burns, who seized it in both hers.
+
+"You poor thing, don't let the Indians scalp ye."
+
+"No danger o' that," he called back.
+
+"Be good to yourself," shouted Burns, and the buggy rolled through the
+gate into the west as the red sun was setting and the prairie cocks were
+crowing.
+
+The boys talked their plans all over again while the strong young horse
+spattered through the mud. Slowly the night fell, and as they rode under
+the branches of the oaks, Jack took courage to say:
+
+"I wish Miss Yardwell had been here, Harry."
+
+"It's no use talking about her; she don't care two straws for me; if she
+had she would have written to me, at least."
+
+"Her mother may have been dying."
+
+"Even that needn't keep her from letting me know or sending some word.
+She didn't care for me--she was just trying to convert me."
+
+"She wasn't the kind of a girl who flirts. By jinks! You should see her
+look right through the boys that used to try to walk home with her after
+prayer meeting. They never tried it a second time. She's a wonder that
+way. One strange thing about her, she never acts like other girls. You
+know what I mean? She's different. She's going to be a singer, and
+travel around giving concerts--she told me so once."
+
+Harold was disposed to be fair. "I don't want anybody to feel sorry for
+me. I suppose she felt that way, and tried to help me." Here he paused
+and his voice changed. "But when I'm a cattle king out West and can buy
+her the best home in Des Moines--maybe she won't pity me so much.
+Anyhow, there's nothing left for me but to emigrate. There's no use
+stayin' around here. Out there is the place for me now."
+
+Jack put Harold down at the station and turned over to him all the money
+he had in the world. Harold took it, saying:
+
+"Now you'll get this back with interest, old man. I need it now, but I
+won't six months from now. I'm going to strike a job before long--don't
+you worry."
+
+Their good-by was awkward and constrained, and Harold felt the parting
+more keenly than he dared to show. Jack rode away crying--a brother
+could not have been more troubled. It seemed that the bitterness of
+death was in this good-by.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+ON THE WING
+
+
+When Harold arose the next morning his cheeks were still red with the
+touch of the wind and sun and he looked like a college student just
+entering upon a vacation. His grace and dignity of bearing set him apart
+from the rough workmen with whom he ate, and he did not exchange a
+single word with anyone but the landlord. As soon as breakfast was over
+he went out into the town.
+
+Roseville had only one street, and it was not difficult to learn that
+Pratt had not yet appeared upon the scene. It was essentially a prairie
+village; no tree broke the smooth horizon line. A great many emigrants
+were in motion, and their white-topped wagons suggested the sails of
+minute craft on the broad ocean as they came slowly up the curve to the
+East and fell away down the slope to the West. To all of these Harold
+applied during the days that followed, but received no offer which
+seemed to promise so well as that of Mr. Pratt, so he waited. At last
+he came, a tall, sandy-bearded fellow, who walked beside a four-horse
+team drawing two covered wagons tandem. Behind him straggled a bunch of
+bony cattle and some horses, herded by a girl and a small boy. The girl
+rode a mettlesome little pony, sitting sidewise on a man's saddle.
+
+"Wal--I d'n know," the old man replied in answer to Harold's question.
+"I did 'low fer to get some help, but Jinnie she said she'd bring 'em
+along fer fifty cents a day, an' she's boss, stranger. If she's sick o'
+the job, why, I'll make out with ye. Jinnie, come here."
+
+Jinnie rode up, eyeing the stranger sharply. "What's up, Dad?"
+
+"Here's another young fellow after your job."
+
+"Well, if he'll work cheap he can have it," replied the girl promptly.
+"I don't admire to ride in this mud any longer."
+
+Pratt smiled. "I reckon that lets you in, stranger, ef we can come to
+terms. We ain't got any money to throw away, but we'll do the best we
+kin."
+
+"I'll tell you what you do. You turn that pony and saddle over to me
+when we get through, and I'll call it square."
+
+"Well, I reckon you won't," said the girl, throwing back her sunbonnet
+as if in challenge. "That's my pony, and nobody gets him without blood,
+and don't you forget it, sonny."
+
+She was a large-featured girl, so blonde as to be straw-colored, even to
+the lashes of her eyes, but her teeth were very white, and her lips a
+vivid pink. She had her father's humorous smile, and though her words
+were bluff, her eyes betrayed that she liked Harold at once.
+
+Harold smiled back at her. "Well, I'll take the next best, that roan
+there."
+
+The boy burst into wild clamor: "Not by a darn sight, you don't. That's
+my horse, an' no sucker like you ain't goin' to ride him, nuther."
+
+"Why don't _you_ ride him?" asked Harold.
+
+The boy looked foolish. "I'm goin' to, some day."
+
+"He can't," said the girl, "and I don't think you can."
+
+Pratt grinned. "Wal, you see how it is, youngster, you an' me has got to
+get down to a money basis. Them young uns claim all my stawk."
+
+Harold said: "Pay me what you can," and Pratt replied: "Wal, throw your
+duds into that hind wagon. We've got to camp somewhere 'fore them durn
+critters eat up all the fences."
+
+As Harold was helping to unhitch the team the girl came around and
+studied him with care.
+
+"Say, what's your name?"
+
+"Moses," he instantly replied.
+
+"Moses what?"
+
+"Oh, let it go at Mose."
+
+"Hain't you got no other name?"
+
+"I did have but the wind blew it away."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+"Moses N. Hardluck."
+
+"You're terrible cute, ain't you?"
+
+"Not so very, or I wouldn't be working for my board."
+
+"You hain't never killed yourself with hard work, by the looks o' them
+hands."
+
+"Oh, I've been going to school."
+
+"A'huh! I thought you had. You talk pretty hifalutin' fer a real workin'
+man. I tell ye what I think--you're a rich man's son, and you've run
+away."
+
+"Come, gal, get that coffee bilin'," called the mother. Mrs. Pratt was a
+wizened little woman, so humped by labor and chills and fever that she
+seemed deformed. Her querulousness was not so much ill-natured as
+plaintive.
+
+"He _says_ his name is Mose Hardluck," Harold heard the girl say, and
+that ended all further inquiry. He became simply "Mose" to them.
+
+There was a satisfying charm to the business of camping out which now
+came to be the regular order of living to him. By day the cattle, thin
+and poor, crawled along patiently, waiting for feeding time to come,
+catching at such bunches of dry grass as came within their reach, and at
+their heels rode Harold on an old black mare, his clear voice urging the
+herd forward. At noon and again at night Pratt halted the wagons beside
+the road and while the women got supper or dinner Harold helped Pratt
+take care of the stock, which he was obliged to feed. "I started a
+little airly," he said at least a score of times in the first week. "But
+I wanted to get a good start agin grass come."
+
+Harold was naturally handy at camping, and his ready and skillful hands
+became very valuable around the camp fire. He was quick and cheerful,
+and apparently tireless, and before the end of the week Jennie said:
+
+"Say, Mose, you can ride my horse if you want to."
+
+"Much obliged, but I guess I'll hang on to the black mare."
+
+At this point Dannie, not to be outdone, chirped shrilly: "You can break
+my horse if you want to."
+
+So a few days later Harold, with intent to check the girl in her growing
+friendliness, as well as to please himself, replied: "I guess I'll break
+Dan's colt."
+
+He began by caressing the horse at every opportunity, leaning against
+him, or putting one arm over his back, to let him feel the weight of his
+body. At last he leaped softly up and hung partly over his back.
+Naturally the colt shied and reared, but Harold dropped off instantly
+and renewed his petting and soothing. It was not long before the pony
+allowed him to mount, and nothing remained but to teach him to endure
+the saddle and the bridle. This was done by belting him and checking him
+to a pad strapped upon his back. He struggled fiercely to rid himself of
+these fetters. He leaped in the air, fell, rolled over, backing and
+wheeling around and around till Dan grew dizzy watching him.
+
+A bystander once said: "Why don't you climb onto him and stay with him
+till he gets sick o' pitchin'; that's what a broncho buster would do."
+
+"Because I don't want him 'busted'; I want him taught that I'm his
+friend," said Harold.
+
+In the end "Jack," as Harold called the roan, walked up to his master
+and rubbed his nose against his shoulder. Harold then stripped away the
+bridle and pad at once, and when he put them on next day Jack winced,
+but did not plunge, and Harold mounted him. A day or two later the colt
+worked under the saddle like an old horse. Thereafter it was a matter
+of making him a horse of finished education. He was taught not to trot,
+but to go directly from the walk to the "lope." He acquired a swift walk
+and a sort of running trot--that is, he trotted behind and rose in front
+with a wolflike action of the fore feet. He was guided by the touch of
+the rein on the neck or by the pressure of his rider's knee on his
+shoulder.
+
+He was taught to stand without hitching and to allow his rider to mount
+on either side. This was a trick which Harold learned of a man who had
+been with the Indians. "You see," he said, "an Injun can't afford to
+have a horse that will only let him climb on from the nigh side, he has
+to get there in a hurry sometimes, and any side at all will do him."
+
+It was well that Jack was trained early, for as they drew out on the
+open prairie and the feed became better the horses and cattle were less
+easy to drive. Each day the interest grew. The land became wilder and
+the sky brighter. The grass came on swiftly, and crocuses and dandelions
+broke from the sod on the sunny side of smooth hills. The cranes, with
+their splendid challenging cries, swept in wide circles through the sky.
+Ducks and geese moved by in myriads, straight on, delaying not. Foxes
+barked on the hills at sunset, and the splendid chorus of the prairie
+chickens thickened day by day.
+
+It was magnificent, and Harold was happy. True, it was not all play.
+There were muddy roads to plod through and treacherous sloughs to cross.
+There were nights when camp had to be pitched in rain, and mornings when
+he was obliged to rise stiff and sore to find the cattle strayed away
+and everything wet and grimy. But the sunshine soon warmed his back and
+dried up the mud under his feet. Each day the way grew drier and the
+flowers more abundant. Each day signs of the wild life thickened.
+Antlers of elk, horns of the buffalo, crates of bones set around shallow
+water holes, and especially the ever-thickening game trails furrowing
+the hills filled the boy's heart with delight. This was the kind of life
+he wished to see. They were now beyond towns, and only occasionally
+small settlements relieved the houseless rolling plains. Soon the
+Missouri, that storied and muddy old stream, would offer itself to view.
+
+"Mose" was now indispensable to the Pratt "outfit." He built fires, shot
+game, herded the cattle, greased the wagons, curried horses, and mended
+harness. He never complained and never grew sullen. Although he talked
+but little, the family were fond of him, but considered him a "singular
+critter." He had lost his pallor. His skin was a clear brown, and being
+dressed in rough clothing, wide hat, and gauntlet gloves, he made a bold
+and dashing herder, showing just the right kind of wear and tear.
+Occasionally, when a chance to earn a few dollars offered, Pratt camped
+and took a job, and Harold shared in the wages.
+
+He spent a great deal of his pocket money in buying cartridges for his
+revolver. He shot at everything which offered a taking mark, and became
+so expert that Dan bowed down before him, and Mrs. Pratt considered him
+dangerous.
+
+"It ain't natural fer to be so durned sure-pop on game," she said one
+day. "Doggone it, I'd want 'o miss 'em once in a while just fer to be
+aigged on fer to try again. First you know, you'll be obliged fer to
+shoot standin' on your haid like these yere champin' shooters that go
+'round the kentry givin' shows, you shorely will, Mose."
+
+Mose only laughed. "I want to be just as good a shot as anybody," he
+said, turning to Pratt.
+
+"You'll be it ef you don't wear out your gun a-doin' of it," replied the
+boss.
+
+These were splendid days. Each sundown they camped nearer to the land of
+the buffalo, and when the work was done and the supper eaten, Mose took
+his pipe and his gun and walked away to some ridge, there to sit while
+the yellow light faded out of the sky. He was as happy as one of his
+restless nature could properly hope to be, but sometimes when he thought
+of Mary his heart ached a little; he forgot her only when his
+imagination set wing into the sunset sky.
+
+One other thing troubled him a little. Rude, plain Jennie was in love
+with him. Daily intercourse with a youngster half as attractive as Mose
+would have had the same effect upon her, for she was at that age when
+propinquity makes sentiment inevitable. She could scarcely keep her eyes
+from him during hours in camp, and on the drive she rode with him four
+times as long as he wished for. She bothered him, and yet she was so
+good and generous he could not rebuff her; he could only endure.
+
+She had one accomplishment: she could ride like a Sioux, either astride
+or womanwise, with a saddle or without, and many a race they had as the
+roads grew firm and dry. She was scrawny and flat-chested, but agile as
+a boy when occasion demanded. She was fearless, too, of man or beast,
+and once when her father became crazy with liquor (which was his
+weakness) she went with Mose to bring him from a saloon, where he stood
+boasting of his powers as a fighter with the bowie knife.
+
+As they entered Jennie walked straight up to him: "Dad, you come home.
+Come right out o' yere."
+
+He looked at her for a moment until his benumbed brain took in her words
+and all their meaning; then he said: "All right, Jinnie, just wait a
+second till I have another horn with these yer gents----"
+
+"Horn nawthin," she said in reply, and seized him by the arm. "You come
+along."
+
+He submitted without a struggle, and on the way out grew plaintive.
+"Jinnie, gal," he kept saying, "I'm liable to get dry before mornin', I
+shore am; ef you'd only jest let me had one more gill----"
+
+"Oh, shet up, Dad. Ef you git dry I'll bring the hull crick in fer ye to
+drink," was her scornful reply.
+
+After he was safe in bed Jennie came over to the wagon where Mose was
+smoking.
+
+"Men are the blamedest fools," she began abruptly; "'pears like they
+ain't got the sense of a grayback louse, leastways some of 'em. Now,
+there's dad, filled up on stuff they call whisky out yer, and
+consequence is he can't eat any grub for two days or more. Doggone it,
+it makes me huffy, it plum does. Mam has put up with it fer twenty
+years, which is just twenty more than I'd stand it, and don't you forget
+it. When I marry a man it will be a man with sense 'nough not to pizen
+hisself on rot-gut whisky."
+
+Without waiting for a reply she turned away and went to bed in the
+bottom of the hinder wagon. Mose smoked his pipe out and rolled himself
+in his blanket near the smoldering camp fire.
+
+Pratt was feeble and very long faced and repentant at breakfast. His
+appetite was gone. Mrs. Pratt said nothing, but pressed him to eat.
+"Come, Paw, a gill or two o' cawfee will do ye good," she said. "Cawfee
+is a great heatoner," she said to Mose. "When I'm so misorified of a
+moarnin' I can't eat a mossel o' bacon or pork, I kin take a gill o'
+cawfee an' it shore helps me much."
+
+Pratt looked around sheepishly. "I do reckon I made a plum ejot of
+myself last night."
+
+"As ush'll," snapped Jennie. "You wanted to go slicin' every man in
+sight up, just fer to show you could swing a bowie knife when you was on
+airth the first time."
+
+"Now that's the quare thing, Mose; a peacebbler man than me don't live;
+Jinnie says I couldn't lick a hearty bedbug, but when I git red liquor
+into my insides I'm a terror to near neighbours, so they say. I can't
+well remember just what do take place 'long towards the fo'th drink."
+
+"Durn lucky you can't. You'd never hole up your head again. A plummer
+fool you never see," said Jennie, determined to drive his shame home to
+him.
+
+Pratt sighed, understood perfectly the meaning of all this vituperation.
+"Well, Mam, we'll try again. I think I'm doin' pretty good when I go two
+munce, don't you?"
+
+"It's more'n that, Paw," said Mrs. Pratt, eager to encourage him at the
+right moment. "It's sixty-four days. You gained four days on it this
+time."
+
+Pratt straightened up and smiled. "That so, Mam? Wal, that shorely is a
+big gain."
+
+He took Mose aside after breakfast and solemnly said:
+
+"Wimern-folk is a heap better'n men-folks. Now, me or you couldn't stand
+in wimern-folks what they put up with in men-folks. 'Pears like they air
+finer built, someway." After a pause he said with great earnestness:
+"Don't you drink red liquor, Mose; it shore makes a man no account."
+
+"Don't you worry, Cap. I'm not drinkin' liquor of any color."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE UPWARD TRAIL
+
+
+Once across the Missouri the trail began to mount. "Here is the true
+buffalo country," thought Mose, as they came to the treeless hills of
+the Great Muddy Water. On these smooth buttes Indian sentinels had
+stood, morning and evening, through a thousand years, to signal the
+movement of the wild herds, and from other distant hills columns of
+smoke by day, or the flare of signal fires at night, had warned the
+chieftains of the approach of enemies. Down these grassy gulches, around
+these sugar-loaf mesas, the giant brown cattle of the plains had crawled
+in long, dark, knobby lines. On the green bottoms they had mated and fed
+and fought in thousands, roaring like lions, their huge hoofs flinging
+the alkaline earth in showers above their heads, their tongues curling,
+their tails waving like banners.
+
+Mose was already deeply learned in all these dramas. All that he had
+ever heard or read of the wild country remained in his mind. He cared
+nothing about the towns or the fame of cities, but these deep-worn
+trails of shaggy beasts filled him with joy. Their histories were more
+to him than were the wars of Cyrus and Hannibal. He questioned all the
+men he met, and their wisdom became his.
+
+Slowly the movers wound their way up the broad, sandy river which came
+from the wilder spaces of the West. The prairie was gone. The tiger
+lily, the sweet Williams, the pinks, together with the luxuriant
+meadows and the bobolinks, were left behind. In their stead, a
+limitless, upward shelving plain outspread, covered with a short, surly,
+hairlike grass and certain sturdy, resinous plants supporting flowers of
+an unpleasant odor, sticky and weedy. Bristling cacti bulged from the
+sod; small Quaker-gray sparrows and larks were the only birds. In the
+swales blue joint grew rank. The only trees were cottonwoods and cutleaf
+willow, scattered scantily along the elbows in the river.
+
+At last they came to the home of the prairie dog and the antelope--the
+buffalo could not be far away! So wide was the earth, so all-embracing
+the sky, they seemed to blend at the horizon line, and lakes of water
+sprang into view, filling a swale in the sod--mystic and beautiful, only
+to vanish like cloud shadows.
+
+The cattle country was soon at hand. Cowboys in sombreros and
+long-heeled boots, with kerchiefs knotted about their necks, careered
+on swift ponies in and out of the little towns or met the newcomers on
+the river road. They rode in a fashion new to Mose, with toes pointed
+straight down, the weight of their bodies a little on one side. They
+skimmed the ground like swallows, forcing their ponies mercilessly.
+Their saddles were very heavy, with high pommels and leather-covered
+stirrups, and Mose determined to have one at once. Some of them carried
+rifles under their legs in a long holster.
+
+Realizing that those were the real "cow-punchers," the youth studied
+their outfits as keenly as a country girl scrutinizes the new gown of a
+visiting city cousin. He changed his manner of riding (which was more
+nearly that of the cavalry) to theirs. He slung a red kerchief around
+his neck, and bought a pair of "chaps," a sort of fringed leather
+leggings. He had been wearing his pistol at his side, he now slewed it
+around to his hip. He purchased also a pair of high-heeled boots and a
+"rope" (no one called it a "lariat"), and began to acquire the
+technicalities of the range. A horse that reared and leaped to fling its
+rider was said to "pitch." Any firearm was a "gun," and any bull, steer,
+or heifer, a "cow." In a few days all these distinctions had been
+mastered, and only the closest observer was able to "cut out" Mose as a
+"tenderfoot."
+
+Pratt was bound for his brother's ranch on the Big Sandy River, and so
+pushed on steadily, although it was evident that he was not looked upon
+with favor. He had reached a section of country where the cattlemen eyed
+his small outfit with contempt and suspicion. He came under the head of
+a "nester," or "truck farmer," who was likely to fence in the river
+somewhere and homestead some land. He was another menace to the range,
+and was to be discouraged. The mutter of war was soon heard.
+
+One day a couple of whisky-heated cowboys rode furiously up behind Mose
+and called out:
+
+"Where in h--l ye think ye're goin', you dam cow milker?"
+
+Mose was angry on the instant and sullenly said: "None of your
+business."
+
+After threatening to blow his liver into bits they rode on and repeated
+their question to Pratt, who significantly replied: "I'm a-goin' to the
+mouth o' the Cannon Ball ef I don't miss it. Any objection?"
+
+"You bet we have, you rowdy baggage puller. You better keep out o' here;
+the climate's purty severe."
+
+Pratt smiled grimly. "I'm usen to that, boys," he replied, and the
+cowboys rode on, cursing him for a fool.
+
+At last, late in July, the mouth of the Cannon Ball was reached. One
+afternoon they cut across a peninsular body of high land and came in
+sight of a wide green flat (between two sluggish, percolating streams)
+whereon a cluster of gray log buildings stood.
+
+"I reckon that's Jake's," said Pratt as they halted to let the horses
+breathe. A minute, zig-zag line of deep green disclosed the course of
+the Cannon Ball, deep sunk in the gravelly soil as it came down to join
+the Big Sandy. All about stood domed and pyramidal and hawk-headed
+buttes. On the river bank huge old cottonwoods, worn and leaning,
+offered the only shadow in a land flooded with vehement, devouring
+light. The long journey was at an end.
+
+Daniel raised a peculiar halloo, which brought a horseman hurrying out
+to meet him. The brother had not forgotten their boyish signal. He rode
+up swiftly and slid from his horse without speaking.
+
+Jake resembled his brother in appearance, but his face was sterner and
+his eyes keener. He had been made a bold, determined man by the pressure
+of harsher circumstances. He shook his brother by the hand in
+self-contained fashion.
+
+"Wal, Dan'l, I'm right glad you got h'yer safe. I reckon this is Miss
+Jinnie--she's a right hearty girl, ain't she? Mrs. Pratt, I'm heartily
+glad to see ye. This yer little man must be the tit-man. What's your
+name, sonny?"
+
+"Dan. H. Pratt," piped the boy.
+
+"Ah--hah! Wal, sir, I reckon you'll make a right smart of a cowboy yet.
+What's this?" he said, turning to Mose. "This ain't no son-in-law, I
+reckon!"
+
+At this question all laughed, Jennie most immoderately of all.
+
+"Not yit, Uncle Jake."
+
+Mose turned red, being much more embarrassed than Jennie. He was indeed
+enraged, for it hurt his pride to be counted a suitor of this ungainly
+and ignorant girl. Right there he resolved to flee at the first
+opportunity. Distressful days were at hand.
+
+"You've been a long time gettin' here, Dan."
+
+"Wal, we've had some bad luck. Mam was sick for a spell, and then we had
+to lay by an' airn a little money once in a while. I'm glad I'm
+here--'peared like we'd wear the hoofs off'n our stawk purty soon." Jake
+sobered down first. "Wal, now I reckon you best unhook right h'yer for a
+day or two till we get a minute to look around and see where we're at."
+So, clucking to the tired horses the train entered upon its last half
+mile of a long journey.
+
+Jake's wife, a somber and very reticent woman, with a slender figure and
+a girlish head, met them at the door of the cabin. Her features were
+unusually small for a woman of her height, and, as she shook hands
+silently, Mose looked into her sad dark eyes and liked her very much.
+She had no children; the two in which she had once taken a mother's joy
+slept in two little mounds on the hill just above the house. She seemed
+glad of the coming of her sister-in-law, though she did not stop to say
+so, but returned to the house to hurry supper forward.
+
+After the meal was eaten the brothers lit their pipes and sauntered out
+to the stables, where they sat down for a long talk. Mose followed them
+silently and sat near to listen.
+
+"Now, Dan'l," Jake began, "I'm mighty glad you've come and brought this
+yer young feller. We need ye both bad! It's like this"--he paused and
+looked around; "I don't want the wimern folks to hear," he explained.
+"Times is goin' to be lively here, shore. They's a big fight on 'twixt
+us truck farmers and the cattle ranchers. You see, the cattlemen has had
+the free range so long they naturally 'low they own it, and they have
+the nerve to tell us fellers to keep off. They explain smooth enough
+that they ain't got nawthin' agin me pussonally--you understand--only
+they 'low me settlin' h'yer will bring others, which is shore about
+right, fer h'yer you be, kit an' caboodle. Now you comin' in will set
+things a-whoopin', an' it ain't no Sunday-school picnic we're a-facin'.
+We're goin' to plant some o' these men before this is settled. The hull
+cattle business is built up on robbing the Government. I've said so, an'
+they're down on me already."
+
+As Jake talked the night fell, and the boy's hair began to stir. A wolf
+was "yapping" on a swell, and a far-off heron was uttering his booming
+cry. Over the ridges, which cut sharply into the fleckless dull-yellow
+sky, lay unknown lands out of which almost any variety of fierce
+marauder might ride. Surely this was the wild country of which he had
+read, where men could talk so glibly of murder and violent death.
+
+"When I moved in here three years ago," continued Jake, "they met me and
+told me to get out. I told 'em I weren't takin' a back track that year.
+One night they rode down a-whoopin' and a-shoutin', and I natcherly
+poked my gun out'n the winder and handed out a few to 'em--an' they rode
+off. Next year quite a little squad o' truck farmers moved into the bend
+just below, an' we got together and talked it over and agreed to stand
+by. We planted two more o' them, and they got one on us. They control
+the courts, and so we have got to fight. They've got a judge that suits
+'em now, and this year will be hot--it will, sure."
+
+Dan'l Pratt smoked for a full minute before he said: "You didn't write
+nothin' of this, Jake."
+
+Jake grinned. "I didn't want to disappoint you, Dan. I knew your heart
+was set on comin'."
+
+"Wal, I didn't 'low fer to hunt up no furss," Dan slowly said; "but the
+feller that tramps on me is liable to sickness."
+
+Jake chuckled. "I know that, Dan; but how about this young feller?"
+
+"He's all right. He kin shoot like a circus feller, and I reckon he'll
+stay right by."
+
+Mose, with big heart, said, "You bet I will."
+
+"That's the talk. Well, now, let's go to bed. I've sent word to
+Jennison--he's our captain--and to-morrow we'll settle you on the mouth
+o' the creek, just above here. It's a monstrous fine piece o' ground; I
+know you'll like it."
+
+Mose slept very little that night. He found himself holding his breath
+in order to be sure that the clamor of a coyote was not a cowboy signal
+of attack. There was something vastly convincing in Jake Pratt's quiet
+drawl as he set forth the cause for war.
+
+Early the next morning, Jennison, the leader of the settlers, came
+riding into the yard. He was tall, grim lipped and curt spoken. He had
+been a captain in the Union Army of Volunteers, and was plainly a man of
+inflexible purpose and resolution.
+
+"How d'e do, gentlemen?" he called pleasantly, as he reined in his
+foaming broncho. "Nice day."
+
+"Mighty purty. Light off, cap'n, an' shake hands with my brother Dan'l."
+
+Jennison dismounted calmly and easily, dropping the rein over the head
+of his wild broncho, and after shaking hands all around, said:
+
+"Well, neighbor, I'm right glad to see ye. Jake, your brother, has been
+savin' up a homestead for ye--and I reckon he's told you that a mighty
+purty fight goes with it. You see it's this way: The man that has the
+water has the grass and the circle, for by fencing in the river here
+controls the grass for twenty miles. They can range the whole country;
+nobody else can touch 'em. Williams, of the Circle Bar, controls the
+river for twenty miles here, and has fenced it in. Of course he has no
+legal right to more than a section or two of it--all the rest is a
+steal--the V. T. outfit joins him on the West, and so on. They all
+stand to keep out settlement--any kind--and they'll make a fight on
+you--the thing for you to do is move right in on the flat Jake has
+picked out for you, and meet all comers."
+
+To this Pratt said: "'Pears to me, captain, that I'd better see if I
+can't make some peaceabler arrangement."
+
+"We've tried all peaceable means," replied Jennison impatiently. "The
+fact is, the whole cattle business as now constituted is a steal. It
+rests on a monopoly of Government land. It's got to go. Settlement is
+creeping in and these big ranges which these 'cattle kings' have held,
+must be free. There is a war due between the sheepmen and the cattlemen,
+too, and our lay is to side in with the sheepmen. They are mainly
+Mexicans, but their fight is our feast."
+
+As day advanced men came riding in from the Cannon Ball and from far
+below on the Big Sandy, and under Jennison's leadership the wires of the
+Williams fence were cut and Daniel Pratt moved to the creek flat just
+above his brother's ranch. Axes rang in the cottonwoods, and when
+darkness came, the building of a rude, farmlike cabin went on by the
+light of big fires. Mose, in the thick of it, was a-quiver with
+excitement. The secrecy, the haste, the glory of flaring fires, the
+almost silent swarming of black figures filled his heart to the brim
+with exultation. He was satisfied, rapt with it as one in the presence
+of heroic music.
+
+But the stars paled before the dawn. The coyotes changed their barking
+to a solemn wail as though day came to rob them of some irredeemable
+joy. A belated prairie cock began to boom, and then tired, sleepy, and
+grimy, the men sat down to breakfast at Jacob Pratt's house. The deed
+had been done. Daniel had entered the lion's den.
+
+"Now," said Jennison grimly, "we'll just camp down here in Jake's barn
+to sleep, and if you need any help, let us know."
+
+The Pratts continued their work, and by noon a habitable shack was ready
+for Mrs. Pratt and the children. In the afternoon Mose and Daniel slept
+for a few hours while Jake kept watch. The day ended peacefully, but
+Jennison and one or two others remained to see the newcomer through a
+second night.
+
+They sat around a fire not far from the cabin and talked quietly of the
+most exciting things. The question of Indian outbreaks came up and
+Jennison said: "We won't have any more trouble with the Indians. The
+Regulars has broken their backs. They can't do anything now but die."
+
+"They hated to give up this land here," said a small, dark man. "I used
+to hear 'em talk it a whole lot. They made out a case."
+
+"Hank lived with 'em four years," Jennison explained to Daniel Pratt.
+
+"The Indians are a good deal better than we give 'em credit for bein',"
+said another man. "I lived next 'em in Minnesota and I never had no
+trouble."
+
+Jennison said decisively: "Oh, I guess if you treat 'em right they treat
+you right. Ain't that their way, Hank?"
+
+"Well, you see it's like this," said the hairy little man; "they're kind
+o' suspicious nacherly of the white man--they can't understand what he
+says, and they don't get his drift always. They make mistakes that way,
+but they mean all right. Of course they have young plug-uglies amongst
+'em jest the same as 'mongst any other c'munity, but the majority of 'em
+druther be peaceful with their neighbors. What makes 'em wildest is
+seein' the buffalo killed off. It's like you havin' your water right cut
+off."
+
+As the talk went on, Mose squatted there silently receiving instruction.
+His eyes burned through the dusk as he listened to the dark little man
+who spoke with a note of authority and decision in his voice. His words
+conveyed to Mose a conception of the Indian new to him. These "red
+devils" were people. In this man's talk they were husbands and fathers,
+and sons, and brothers. They loved these lands for which the cattlemen
+and sheepmen were now about to battle, and they had been dispossessed by
+the power of the United States Army, not by law and justice. A desire to
+know more of them, to see them in their homes, to understand their way
+of thinking, sprang up in the boy's brain.
+
+He edged over close to the plainsman and, in a pause in the talk,
+whispered to him: "I want you to tell me more about the Indians."
+
+The other man turned quickly and said: "Boy, they're my friends. In a
+show-down I'm on their side; my father was a half-breed."
+
+The night passed quietly and nearly all the men went home, leaving the
+Pratts to meet the storm alone, but Jennison had a final word. "You send
+your boy to yon butte, and wave a hat any time during the day and we'll
+come, side arms ready. I'll keep an eye on the butte all day and come up
+and see you to-night. Don't let 'em get the drop on ye."
+
+It was not until the third day that Williams, riding the line in person,
+came upon the new settler. He sat upon his horse and swore. His face was
+dark with passion, but after a few minutes' pause he drew rein and rode
+away.
+
+"Another butter maker," he said to his men as he slipped from the
+saddle at his own door, "some ten miles up the river."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Next to Pratt's. I reckon it's that brother o' his he's been talking
+about. They cut my wires and squatted on the Rosebud flat."
+
+"Give the word and we'll run 'em out," said one of his men. "Every
+son-of-a-gun of 'em."
+
+Williams shook his head. "No, that won't do. W've got to go slow in
+rippin' these squatters out o' their holes. They anchor right down to
+the roots of the tree of life. I reckon we've got to let 'em creep in;
+we'll scare 'em all we can before they settle, but when they settle
+we've got to go around 'em. If the man was a stranger we might do
+something, but Jake Pratt don't bluff--besides, boys, I've got worse
+news for you."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"A couple of Mexicans with five thousand sheep crossed Lizard Creek
+yesterday."
+
+The boys leaped to their feet, variously crying out: "Oh, come off! It
+can't be true."
+
+"It is true--I saw 'em myself," insisted Williams.
+
+"Well, that means war. Does the V. T. outfit know it?"
+
+"I don't think so. We've got to stand together now, or we'll be overrun
+with sheep. The truck farmers are a small matter compared to these
+cursed greasers."
+
+"I guess we'd better send word up the river, hadn't we?" asked his
+partner.
+
+"Yes, we want to let the whole county know it."
+
+Cheyenne County was an enormous expanse of hilly plain, if the two words
+may be used together. Low heights of sharp ascent, pyramid-shaped
+buttes, and wide benches (cut here and there by small creek valleys)
+made up its surface, which, broadly considered, was only the vast,
+treeless, slowly-rising eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains. At long
+distances, on the flat, sandy river, groups of squat and squalid ranch
+buildings huddled as if to escape the wind. For years it has been a
+superb range for cattle, and up till the coming of the first settlements
+on the Cannon Ball, it had been parceled out among a few big firms, who
+cut Government timber, dug Government stone, and pastured on Government
+grass. When the wolves took a few ponies, the ranchers seized the
+opportunity to make furious outcry and bring in the Government troops to
+keep the Indians in awe, and so possessed the land in serenity. Nothing
+could be more perfect, more commodious.
+
+But for several years before the coming of the Pratts certain other
+ominous events were taking place. Over the mountains from the West, or
+up the slope from New Mexico, enormous herds of small, greasy sheep
+began to appear. They were "walking" for better pasture, and where they
+went they destroyed the grasses and poisoned the ground with foul odors.
+Cattle and horses would not touch any grass which had been even touched
+by these ill-smelling woolly creatures. There had been ill-feeling
+between sheepmen and cattlemen from the first, but as water became
+scarcer and the range more fully stocked, bitterness developed into
+hatred and warfare. Sheep herders were considered outcasts, and of no
+social account. To kill one was by some considered a kindness, for it
+ended the misery of a man who would go crazy watching the shifting,
+crawling maggots anyway. It was bad enough to be a cow milker, but to be
+a sheep herder was living death.
+
+These herds thickened from year to year. They followed the feed, were
+clipped once, sometimes twice, and then were headed back to winter in
+the south, dying in myriads on the way--only to reappear augmented in
+numbers the succeeding year. They were worthless as mutton, and at first
+were never shipped, but as the flocks were graded up, the best were
+culled and sent to Eastern markets. They menaced the cattlemen in the
+West and South, while the rancher made slow but inexorable advance on
+the East. As the cattleman came to understand this his face grew dark
+and sullen, but thus far no herd had entered the Big Sandy Range, though
+Williams feared their coming and was ready to do battle.
+
+At the precise time that Daniel Pratt was entering Cheyenne County from
+the East, a Mexican sheepman was moving toward the Cannon Ball from the
+Southwest, walking behind ten thousand sheep, leaving a dusty, bare and
+stinking trail behind him. Williams' report drew the attention of the
+cattlemen, and the Pratts were for the time forgotten.
+
+A few days after Daniel's assault on the fences of the big ranch, a
+conference of cattlemen met and appointed a committee to wait upon the
+owner of the approaching flock of sheep. The Pratts heard of this, and,
+for reasons of their own, determined to be present. Mose, eager to see
+the outcome of these exciting movements, accompanied the Pratts on their
+ride over the hills.
+
+They found the man and his herders encamped on the bank of a little
+stream in a smooth and beautiful valley. He had a covered wagon and a
+small tent, and a team of hobbled horses was feeding near. Before the
+farmers had time to cross the stream the cattlemen came in sight, riding
+rapidly, and the Pratts waited for them to come up. As they halted on
+the opposite bank of the stream the sheep owner came out of his tent
+with a rifle in his arm and advanced calmly to meet them.
+
+"Good evening, gentlemen," he called pleasantly, but the slant of his
+chin was significant. He was a tall, thin man with a long beard. He wore
+an ordinary sombrero, with wide, stiff brim, a gray shirt, and loose,
+gray trousers. At his belt, and significantly in front and buttoned
+down, hung two splendid revolvers. Aside from these weapons, he looked
+like a clergyman camping for the summer.
+
+Hitching their horses to the stunted willow and cottonwood trees, the
+committee approached the tent, and Williams, of Circle Bar, became
+spokesman: "We have come," he said, "to make a statement. We are
+peaceably disposed, but would like to state our side of the case. The
+range into which you are walking your sheep is already overstocked with
+cattle and horses, and we are going to suffer, for you know very well
+cattle will not follow sheep. The coming of your flock is likely to
+bring others, and we can't stand it. We have come to ask you to keep off
+our range. We have been to big expense to build sheds and fences, and we
+can't afford to have sheep thrown in on us."
+
+To this the sheepman made calm reply. He said: "Gentlemen, all that you
+have said is true, but it does not interest me. This land belongs as
+much to me as to you. By law you can hold only one quarter section each
+by squatters' right. That right I shall respect, but no more. I shall
+drive my sheep anywhere on grounds not actually occupied by your feeding
+cattle. Neither you nor I have much more time to do this kind of thing.
+The small settler is coming westward. Until he comes I propose to have
+my share of Government grass."
+
+The meeting grew stormy. Williams, of Circle Bar, counselled moderation.
+Others were for beginning war at once. "If this man is looking for
+trouble he can easily find it," one of them said.
+
+The sheepman grimly replied: "I have the reputation in my country of
+taking care of myself." He drew a revolver and laid it affectionately in
+the hollow of his folded left arm. "I have two of these, and in a mix-up
+with me, somebody generally gets hurt."
+
+There was deadly serenity in the stranger's utterance, and the cowboys
+allowed themselves to be persuaded into peace measures, though some went
+so far as to handle guns also. They withdrew for a conference, and Jake
+said: "Stranger, we're with you in this fight; we're truck farmers at
+the mouth o' the Cannon Ball. My name is Pratt."
+
+The sheepman smiled pleasantly. "Mighty glad to know you, Mr. Pratt. My
+name is Delmar."
+
+"This is my brother Dan," said Jake, "and this is his herder."
+
+When Mose took the small, firm hand of the sheepman and looked into his
+face he liked him, and the stranger returned his liking. "Your fight is
+mine, gentlemen," he said. "These cattlemen are holding back settlement
+for their own selfish purposes."
+
+Williams, returning at this point, began speaking, but with effort, and
+without looking at Delmar. "We don't want any fuss, so I want to make
+this proposition. You take the north side of the Cannon Ball above the
+main trail, and we'll keep the south side and all the grass up to the
+trail. That'll give you range enough for your herd and will save
+trouble. We've had all the trouble we want. I don't want any gun-work
+myself."
+
+To this the stranger said: "Very well. I'll go look at the ground. If it
+will support my sheep I'll keep them on it. I claim to be a reasonable
+man also, and I've had troubles in my time, and now with a family
+growing up on my hands I'm just as anxious to live peaceable with my
+fellow-citizens as any man, but I want to say to you that I'm a mean man
+when you try to drive me."
+
+Thereupon he shook hands with Williams and several others of the older
+men. After most of the cattlemen had ridden away, Jake said, "Well, now,
+we'll be glad to see you over at our shack at the mouth o' the Cannon
+Ball." He held out his hand and the sheepman shook it heartily. As he
+was saying good-by the sheep owner's eyes dwelt keenly on Mose.
+"Youngster, you're a good ways from home and mother."
+
+Mose blushed, as became a youth, and said: "I'm camping in my hat these
+days."
+
+The sheepman smiled. "So am I, but I've got a wife and two daughters
+back in Santy Fay. Come and see me. I like your build. Well, gentlemen,
+just call on me at any time you need me. I'll see that my sheep don't
+trouble you."
+
+"All right; you do the same," replied the Pratts.
+
+"You fellows hold the winning hand," said Delmar; "the small rancher
+will sure wipe the sheepman out in time. I've got sense enough to see
+that. You can't fight the progress of events. Youngster, you belong to
+the winning side," he ended, turning to Mose, "but it's the unpopular
+side just now."
+
+All this was epic business into which to plunge a boy of eighteen whose
+hot blood tingled with electric fire at sight of a weapon in the hands
+of roused and resolute men. He redoubled his revolver practice, and
+through Daniel's gossip and especially through the boasting of Jennie,
+his skill with the revolver soon became known to Delmar, who invited him
+to visit him for a trial of skill. "I used to shoot a little myself," he
+said; "come over and we'll try conclusions."
+
+Out of this friendly contest the youth emerged very humble. The old
+sheepman dazzled him with his cunning. He shot equally well from either
+hand. He could walk by a tree, wheel suddenly, and fire both revolvers
+over his shoulders, putting the two bullets within an inch of each
+other. "That's for use when a man is sneaking onto you from behind," he
+explained. "I never used it but once, but it saved my life." He could
+fire two shots before Mose could get his pistol from his holster. "A gun
+is of no use, youngster, unless you can get it into action before the
+other man. Sling your holster in front and tie it down when you're going
+to war, and never let a man come to close quarters with you. The secret
+of success is to be just a half second ahead of the other man. It saves
+blood, too."
+
+His hands were quick and sure as the rattlesnake's black, forked tongue.
+He seemed not to aim--he appeared to shoot from his fist rather than
+from the extended weapon, and when he had finished Mose said:
+
+"I'm much obliged, Mr. Delmar; I see I didn't know the a b c's--but you
+try me again in six months."
+
+The sheepman smiled. "You've got the stuff in you, youngster. If you
+ever get in a serious place, and I'm in reaching distance, let me know
+and I'll open a way out for you. Meanwhile, I can make use of you as you
+are. I need another man. My Mexicans are no company for me. Come over
+and help me; I'll pay you well and you can have the same fare that I eat
+myself. I get lonesome as the old boy."
+
+Thus it came about that Mose, without realizing it, became that
+despised, forlorn thing, a sheep herder. He made a serious social
+mistake when he "lined up" with the truck farmers, the tenderfeet and
+the "greaser" sheep herders, and cut out "a great gob of trouble" for
+himself in Cheyenne County.
+
+He admired Delmar most fervidly, and liked him. There was a quality in
+his speech which appealed to the eagle's heart in the boy. The Pratts no
+longer interested him; they had settled down into farmers. They had
+nothing for him to do but plow and dig roots, for which he had no love.
+He had not ridden into this wild and splendid country to bend his back
+over a spade. One day he accepted Delmar's offer and rode home to get
+his few little trinkets and to say good-by.
+
+Another reason why he had accepted Delmar's offer lay in the growing
+annoyance of Jennie's courtship. She made no effort to conceal her
+growing passion. She put herself in his way and laid hands on him with
+unblushing frankness. Her love chatter wearied him beyond measure, and
+he became cruelly short and evasive. Her speech grew sillier as she lost
+her tomboy interests, and Mose avoided her studiously.
+
+That night as he rode up Daniel was at the barn. To him Mose repeated
+Delmar's offer.
+
+Pratt at once said: "I don't blame ye fer pullin' out, Mose. I done the
+best I could, considerin'. Co'se I can't begin fer to pay ye the wages
+Delmar can, but be keerful; trouble is comin', shore pop, and I'd hate
+to have ye killed, on the wimmen's account. They 'pear to think more o'
+you than they do o' me."
+
+Jennie's eyes filled with tears when Mose told her of his new job. She
+looked very sad and wistful and more interesting than ever before in her
+life as she came out to say good-by.
+
+"Well, Mose, I reckon you're goin' for good?"
+
+"Not so very far," he said, in generous wish to ease her over the
+parting.
+
+"You'll come 'round once in a while, won't ye?"
+
+"Why, sure! It's only twenty miles over to the camp."
+
+"Come over Sundays, an' we'll have potpie and soda biscuits fer ye," she
+said, with a feminine reliance on the power of food.
+
+"All right," he replied with a smile, and abruptly galloped away.
+
+His heart was light with the freedom of his new condition. He considered
+himself a man now. His wages were definite, and no distinction was drawn
+between him and Delmar himself. Besides, the immense flock of sheep
+interested him at first.
+
+His duties were simple. By day he helped to guide the sheep gently to
+their feeding and in their search for water; by night he took his turn
+at guarding from wolves. His sleep was broken often, even when not on
+guard. They were such timid folk, these sheep; their fears passed easily
+into destructive precipitances.
+
+But the night watch had its joys. As the sunlight died out of the sky
+and the blazing stars filled the deep blue air above his head, the
+world grew mysterious and majestic, as well as menacing. The wolves
+clamored from the buttes, which arose on all sides like domes of a
+sleeping city. Crickets cried in the grass, drowsily, and out of the
+dimness and dusk something vast, like a passion too great for words,
+fell upon the boy. He turned his face to the unknown West. There the
+wild creatures dwelt; there were the beings who knew nothing of books or
+towns and toil. There life was governed by the ways of the wind, the
+curve of the streams, the height of the trees--there--just over the edge
+of the plain, the mountains dwelt, waiting for him.
+
+Then his heart ached like that of a young eagle looking from his natal
+rock into the dim valley, miles below. At such times the youth knew he
+had not yet reached the land his heart desired. All this was only
+resting by the way.
+
+At such times, too, in spite of all, he thought of Mary and of Jack;
+they alone formed his attachments to the East. All else was valueless.
+To have had them with him in this land would have put his heart entirely
+at rest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+WAR ON THE CANNON BALL
+
+
+The autumn was very dry, and as the feed grew short on his side of the
+Cannon Ball, Delmar said to his boss herder, "Drive the herd over the
+trail, keeping as close to the boundary as you can. The valley through
+which the road runs will keep us till November, I reckon."
+
+Of this Mose knew nothing, and when he saw the sheep drifting across the
+line he set forth to turn them. The herder shouted, "Hold on, Mose; let
+'em go."
+
+Mose did as he was ordered, but looked around nervously, expecting a
+charge of cattlemen. Delmar laughed. "Don't worry; they won't make any
+trouble."
+
+A couple of days later a squad of cowboys came riding furiously over the
+hill. "See here!" they called to Mose, "you turn that stinkin' river of
+sheep back over the line."
+
+Mose shouted a reply: "I'm not the boss; go talk to him. And, say! you'd
+better change your tune when you whistle into his ear."
+
+"Oh, hell!" said one contemptuously. "It's that tenderfoot of Pratt's."
+They rode to the older herder, who laughed at them. "Settle with the
+'old man,'" he said. "I'm under orders to feed these sheep and I'm goin'
+to do it."
+
+"You take them sheep back on your range or you won't have any to feed,"
+said one of the cowboys.
+
+The herder blew a whiff from his lips as if blowing away thistle down.
+"Run away, little ones, you disturb my siesta."
+
+With blistering curses on him and his sheep, the cowboys rode to the top
+of the hill, and there, turning, fired twice at the herder, wounding him
+in the arm. The Mexican returned the fire, but to no effect.
+
+When Mose reported this, Delmar's eyebrows drew down over his hawklike
+eyes. "That's all right," he said ominously. "If they want war they'll
+get it."
+
+A few days later he rode over toward the Circle Bar Ranch house. On the
+way he overtook Williams, riding along alone. Williams did not hear
+Delmar till he called sharply, "Throw up your hands."
+
+Williams quickly complied. "Don't shoot--for God's sake!" he called,
+with his hands quivering above his head. He had heard of Delmar's skill
+with weapons.
+
+"Mr. Williams," Delmar began with sinister formality, "your men have
+been shooting my herders."
+
+"Not by my orders, Mr. Delmar; I never sanction----"
+
+"See here, Williams, you are responsible for your cowboys, just as I am
+for my Mexicans. It's low-down business for you to shoot my men who are
+working for me at fifteen dollars a month. I'm the responsible
+party--I'm the man to kill. I want to say right here that I hold you
+accountable, and if your men maim one of my herders or open fire on 'em
+again I'll hunt you down and kill you like a wolf. Now ride on, and if
+you look back before you top that divide I'll put a bullet through you.
+Good-day."
+
+Williams rode away furiously and was not curious at all; he topped the
+divide without stopping. Delmar smiled grimly as he wheeled his horse
+and started homeward.
+
+On the same day, as Mose was lying on the point of a grassy mesa,
+watching the sheep swarming about a water hole in the valley below, he
+saw a cloud of dust rising far up to the north. While he wondered, he
+heard a wild, rumbling, trampling sound. Could it be a herd of buffalo?
+His blood thrilled with the hope of it. His sheep were forgotten as the
+roar increased and wild yells came faintly to his ears. As he jerked
+his revolver from its holder, around the end of the mesa a herd of wild
+horses swept, swift as antelope, with tails streaming, with eyes
+flashing, and behind them, urging them on, whooping, yelling, shooting,
+came a band of cowboys, their arms flopping, their kerchiefs streaming.
+
+A gasping shout arose from below. "The sheep! the sheep!" Mose turned
+and saw the other herders rushing for their horses. He realized then the
+danger to the flock. The horses were sweeping like a railway train
+straight down upon the gray, dusty, hot river of woolly flesh. Mose
+shuddered with horror and pity--a moment later and the drove, led by a
+powerful and vicious brown mare, drove like a wedge straight into the
+helpless herd, and, leaping, plunging, kicking, stumbling, the powerful
+and swift little bronchos crossed, careering on down the valley, leaving
+hundreds of dead, wounded, and mangled sheep in their path. The cowboys
+swept on after them with exultant whooping, firing their revolvers at
+the Mexican herders, who stood in a daze over their torn and mangled
+herd.
+
+When Mose recovered from his stupefaction, his own horse was galloping
+in circles, his picket rope dragging, and the boss herder was swearing
+with a belated malignity which was ludicrous. He swept together into
+one steady outpour all the native and alien oaths he had ever heard in a
+long and eventful career among profane persons. When Mose recovered his
+horse and rode up to him, Jose was still swearing. He was walking among
+the wounded sheep, shooting those which he considered helplessly
+injured. His mouth was dry, his voice husky, and on his lips foam lay in
+yellow flecks. He ceased to imprecate only when, by repetition, his
+oaths became too inexpressive to be worth while.
+
+Mose's heart was boyishly tender for any animal, and to see the gentle
+creatures mangled, writhing and tumbling, uttering most piteous cries,
+touched him so deeply that he wept. He had no inclination to swear until
+afterward, when the full knowledge that it was a trick and not an
+accident came to him. He started at once for the camp to carry the black
+news.
+
+Delmar did not swear when Mose told him what had happened. He saddled
+his horse, and, buckling his revolvers about him said, "Come on,
+youngster; I'm going over to see about this."
+
+Mose felt the blood of his heart thicken and grow cold. There was a
+deadly resolution in Delmar's deliberate action. Prevision of a bloody
+fray filled the boy's mind, but he could not retreat. He could not let
+his boss go alone into an enemy's country; therefore he rode silently
+after.
+
+Delmar galloped steadily on toward the Circle Bar Ranch house. Mile
+after mile was traversed at steady gallop till the powerful little
+ponies streamed with salty sweat. At last Delmar drew rein and allowed
+Mose to ride by his side.
+
+"You needn't be alarmed," he said in a kindly tone; "these hounds won't
+shoot; they're going to evade it, but I shall hold 'em to it--trust me,
+my boy."
+
+As they topped a ridge and looked down into Willow Creek, where the
+Ranch house stood, several horsemen could be seen riding in from the
+opposite side, and quite a group of men waited Delmar's approach, and
+every man was armed. Each face wore a look of constraint, though one man
+advanced hospitably. "Good afternoon, gentlemen; ride your horses right
+into the corral, and the boys'll take the saddles off."
+
+"Where is Williams?" asked Delmar as he slid from his horse.
+
+"Gone to town; anything I can do for you? I'm his boss."
+
+"You tell Mr. Williams," said Delmar, with menacing calm, "I came to
+tell him that a drove of horses belonging partly to you and partly to
+Hartley, of The Horseshoe, were stampeded through my sheep yesterday,
+killing over two hundred of them."
+
+Conrad replied softly: "I know, I know! I just heard of it. Too bad! but
+you understand how it is. Herds get going that way, and you can't stop
+'em nor head 'em off."
+
+"Your men didn't try to head 'em off."
+
+"How about that, boys?" inquired Conrad, turning to the younger men.
+
+A long, freckled, grinning ape stepped forward.
+
+"Well, it was this way: we was a-tryin' to head the herd off, and we
+didn't see the sheep till we was right into 'em----"
+
+"That's a lie!" said Mose. "You drove the horses right down the valley
+into the sheep. I saw you do it."
+
+"You call me a liar and I'll blow your heart out," shouted the cowboy,
+dropping his hand to his revolver.
+
+"Halt!" said Delmar. "Easy now, you young cockalorum. It ain't useful to
+start shooting where Andrew Delmar is."
+
+Conrad spoke sharply: "Jim, shut up." Turning to Mose, "Where did it
+happen?"
+
+"In Boulder Creek, just south of the road."
+
+Conrad turned to Delmar in mock surprise. "_South_ of the road! Your
+sheep must o' strayed over the line, Mr. Delmar. As they was on our
+side of the range I don't see that I can do anything for you. If they'd
+been on the north side----"
+
+"That'll do," interrupted Delmar. "I told you that so long as the north
+side fed my sheep I would keep them there to accommodate your stockmen.
+I give notice now that I shall feed where I please, and I shall be with
+my sheep night and day, and the next man that crosses my sheep will
+leave his bones in the grass with the dead sheep, and likely a horse or
+two besides." He stepped toward Conrad. "Williams has had his warning; I
+give you yours. I hold you responsible for every shot fired at my men.
+If one of my men is shot I'll kill you and Williams at sight. Good-day."
+
+"What'll _we_ do?" called one of the cowboys.
+
+Delmar turned, and his eyes took on a wild glare.
+
+"I'll send you to hell so quick you won't be able to open your mouth.
+Throw up your hands!" The man's hands went up. "Why, I'd ear-mark ye and
+slit each nostril for a leather button----"
+
+Conrad strove for peace. "Be easy on him, Delmar; he's a crazy fool,
+anyway; he don't know you."
+
+"He will after this," said Delmar. "I'll trouble you, Mr. Conrad, to
+collect all the guns from your men." Mose drew his revolver. "My boy
+here is handy too. I don't care to be shot in the back as I ride away.
+Drop your guns, every scab of ye!"
+
+"I'll be d----d if I do."
+
+"Drop it!" snapped out Delmar, and the tone of his voice was terrible to
+hear. Mose's heart stopped beating; he held his breath, expecting the
+shooting to begin.
+
+Conrad was white with fear as he said: "Give 'em up, boys. He's a
+desperate man. Don't shoot, you fools!"
+
+One by one, with a certain amount of bluster on the part of two, the
+cowboys dropped their guns, and Delmar said: "Gather 'em in, Mose."
+
+Mose leaped from his horse and gathered the weapons up. Delmar thrust
+the revolvers into his pockets, and handed one Winchester to Mose.
+
+"You'll find your guns on that rise beside yon rock," said Delmar, "and
+when we meet again, it will be Merry War. Good-day!"
+
+An angry man knows no line of moderation. Delmar, having declared war,
+carried it to the door of the enemy. Accompanying the sheep himself, he
+drove them into the fairest feeding-places beside the clearest streams.
+He spared no pains to irritate the cattlemen, and Mose, who alone of
+all the outsiders realized to the full his terrible skill with weapons,
+looked forward with profound dread to the fight which was sure to
+follow.
+
+He dreaded the encounter for another reason. He had no definite plan of
+action to follow in his own case. A dozen times a day he said to
+himself: "Am I a coward?" His stomach failed him, and he ate so
+sparingly that it was commented upon by the more hardened men. He was
+the greater troubled because a letter from Jack came during this stormy
+time, wherein occurred this paragraph: "Mary came back to the autumn
+term. Her mother is dead, and she looks very pale and sad. She asked
+where you were and said: 'Please tell him that I hope he will come home
+safe, and that I am sorry I could not see him before he went away.'"
+
+All the bitterness in his heart long stored up against her passed away
+in a moment, and sitting there on the wide plain, under the burning sun,
+he closed his eyes in order to see once more, in the cold gray light of
+the prison, that pale, grave girl with the glorious eyes. He saw her,
+too, as Jack saw her, her gravity turned into sadness, her pallor into
+the paleness of grief and ill health. He admitted now that no reason
+existed why she should write to him while her mother lay dying. All
+cause for hardness of heart was passed away. The tears came to his eyes
+and he longed for the sight of her face. For a moment the boy's wild
+heart grew tender.
+
+He wrote her a letter that night, and it ran as well as he could hope
+for, as he re-read it next day on his way to the post office twenty
+miles away.
+
+    "DEAR MARY: Jack has just sent me a long letter and has told
+    me what you said. I hope you will forgive me. I thought you
+    didn't want to see me or write to me. I didn't know your
+    mother was sick. I thought you ought to have written to me,
+    but, of course, I understand now. I hope you will write in
+    answer to this and send your picture to me. You see I never
+    saw you in daylight and I'm afraid I'll forget how you look.
+
+    "Well, I'm out in the wild country, but it ain't what I
+    want. I don't like it here. The cowboys are all the time
+    rowin'. There ain't much game here neither. I kill an
+    antelope once in a while, or a deer down on the bottoms, but
+    I haven't seen a bear or a buffalo yet. I want to go to the
+    mountains now. This country is too tame for me. They say you
+    can see the Rockies from a place about one hundred miles from
+    here. Some day I'm going to ride over there and take a
+    look. I haven't seen any Indians yet. We are likely to have
+    shooting soon.
+
+    "If you write, address to Running Bear, Cheyenne County, and
+    I'll get it. I'll go down again in two weeks. Since Jack
+    wrote I want to see you awful bad, but of course it can't be
+    done, so write me a long letter.
+
+                                    "Yours respectfully,
+                                                    "HAROLD EXCELL.
+
+    "Address your letter to Mose Harding, they don't know my real
+    name out here. I'll try to keep out of trouble."
+
+He arrived in Running Bear just at dusk, and went straight to the post
+office, which was in an ill-smelling grocery. Nothing more forlornly
+disreputable than "the Beast" (as the cowboys called the town) existed
+in the State. It was built on the low flat of the Big Sandy, and was
+composed of log huts (beginning already to rot at the corners) and
+unpainted shanties of pine, gray as granite, under wind and sun. There
+were two "hotels," where for "two bits" one could secure a dish of
+evil-smelling ham and eggs and some fried potatoes, and there were six
+saloons, where one could secure equally evil-minded whisky at ten cents
+a glass. A couple of rude groceries completed the necessary equipment
+of a "cow-town."
+
+There was no allurement to vice in such a place as this so far as Mose
+was concerned, but a bunch of cowboys had just ridden in for "a good
+time," and to reach the post office he was forced to pass them. They
+studied him narrowly in the dusk, and one fellow said:
+
+"That's Delmar's sheep herder; let's have some fun with him. Let's
+convert him."
+
+"Oh, let him alone; he's only a kid."
+
+"Kid! He's big as he'll ever be. I'm goin' to string him a few when he
+comes out."
+
+Mose's breath was very short as he posted his letter, for trouble was in
+the air. He tried his revolvers to see that they were free in their
+holsters, and wiped the sweat from his hands and face with his big
+bandanna. He entered into conversation with the storekeeper, hoping the
+belligerent gang would ride away. They had no such intention, but went
+into a saloon next door to drink, keeping watch for Mose. One of them, a
+slim, consumptive-chested man, grew drunk first. He was entirely
+harmless when sober, and served as the butt of all jokes, but the evil
+liquor paralyzed the small knot of gray matter over his eyes and set
+loose his irresponsible lower centers. He threw his hat on the ground
+and defied the world in a voice absurdly large and strenuous.
+
+His thin arms swung aimlessly, and his roaring voice had no more heart
+in it than the blare of a tin horn. His eyes wandered from face to face
+in the circle of his grinning companions who egged him on.
+
+His insane, reeling capers vastly amused them. One or two, almost as
+drunk as he, occasionally wrestled with him, and they rolled in the dust
+like dirty bear cubs. They were helpless so far as physical struggle
+went, but, unfortunately, shooting was a second nature to them, and
+their hands were deadly.
+
+As Mose came out to mount his horse the crowd saw him, and one vicious
+voice called out:
+
+"Here, Bill, here's a sheep walker can do you up."
+
+The crowd whooped with keen delight, and streaming over, surrounded
+Mose, who stood at bay not far from his horse in the darkness--a sudden
+numbness in his limbs.
+
+"What do you want o' me?" he asked. "I've nothing to do with you." He
+knew that this crowd would have no mercy on him and his heart almost
+failed him.
+
+"Here's a man wants to lick you," replied one of the herders.
+
+The drunken man was calling somewhere in the crowd, "Where is he? Lemme
+get at him." The ring opened and he reeled through and up to Mose, who
+was standing ominously quiet beside his horse. Bill seized him by the
+collar and said: "You want 'o fight?"
+
+"No," said Mose, too angry at the crowd to humor the drunken fool. "You
+take him away or he'll get hurt."
+
+"Oh, he will, will he?"
+
+"Go for him, Bill," yelled the crowd in glee.
+
+The drunken fool gave Mose a tug. "Come 'ere!" he said with an oath.
+
+"Let go o' me," said Mose, his heart swelling with wrath.
+
+The drunken one aimlessly cuffed him. Then the blood-red film dropped
+over the young eagle's eyes. He struck out and his assailant went down.
+Then his revolvers began to speak and the crowd fell back. They rolled,
+leaped, or crawled to shelter, and when the bloody mist cleared away
+from his brain, Mose found himself in his saddle, his swift pony
+galloping hard up the street, with pistols cracking behind him. His
+blood was still hot with the murderous rage which had blinded his eyes.
+He did not know whether he had begun to shoot first or not, he did not
+know whether he had killed any of the ruffians or not, but he had a
+smarting wound in the shoulder, from which he could feel the wet, warm
+blood trickling down.
+
+Once he drew his horse to a walk, and half turned him to go back and
+face the mob, which he could hear shouting behind him, but the thought
+of his wound, and the fear that his horse had also been hit, led him to
+ride on. He made a detour on the plain, and entered a ravine which
+concealed him from the town, and there alighted to feel of his horse's
+limbs, fearing each moment to come upon a wound, but he was unhurt, and
+as the blood had ceased to flow from his own wound, the youth swung into
+his saddle and made off into the darkness.
+
+He heard no sound of his pursuers, but, nevertheless, rode on rapidly,
+keeping the west wind in his face and watching sharply for fences. At
+length he found his way back to the river trail and the horse galloped
+steadily homeward. As he rode the boy grew very sad and discouraged. He
+had again given away to the spirit of murder. Again he had intended to
+kill, and he seemed to see two falling figures; one, the man he had
+smitten with his fist, the other one whose revolver was flashing fire as
+he fell.
+
+Then he thought of Mary and the sad look in her eyes when she should
+hear of his fighting again. She would not be able to get at the true
+story. She would not know that these men attacked him first and that he
+fought in self-defense. He thought of his father, also, with a certain
+tenderness, remembering how he had stood by him in his trial. "Who will
+stand by me now?" he asked himself, and the thought of the Pratts helped
+him. Delmar, he felt sure, would defend him, but he knew the customs of
+the cattle country too well to think the matter ended there. He must
+hereafter shoot or be shot. If these men met him again he must disable
+them instantly or die. "Hadn't I better just keep right on riding?" he
+kept asking some sense within him, but decided at last to return to
+Delmar.
+
+It was deep night when he reached the camp, and his horse was covered
+with foam. Delmar was sitting by the camp fire as he came in from the
+dark.
+
+"Hello, boy, what's up?"
+
+Mose told him the whole story in a few incoherent phrases. The old man
+examined and dressed his wound, but remained curiously silent throughout
+the story. At last he said: "See here, my lad; let me tell you, this is
+serious business. I don't mean this scratch of a bullet--don't you be
+uneasy about that; but this whole row is mine. They haven't any grudge
+against you, but you're a sheep herder for me, and that is bad business
+just now. If you've killed a man they'll come a-rippin' up here about
+daylight with a warrant. You can't get justice in this country. You'll
+face a cowboy jury and it'll go hard with you. There's just one thing to
+do: you've got to git right close to where the west winds come from and
+do it quick. Throw the saddles on Bone and Rusty, and we'll hit the
+trail. I know a man who'll take care of you."
+
+He whistled a signal and one of the herders came in: "Send Pablo here,"
+he said. "Now, roll up any little trinkets that you want to take with
+you," he said a few minutes later as they were saddling the two
+bronchos. "You can't afford to stay here and face this thing; I had no
+business to set you on the wrong side. I knew better all the time, but I
+liked you, and----"
+
+The herder came in. "Pablo, I'm going across country on a little
+business. If anybody comes asking for me or Mose here, say you don't
+know where we went, but that you expect us back about noon. Be ready to
+shoot to-day; some of these cowboys may try to stampede you again while
+I'm gone."
+
+"You better stay and look after the sheep," began Mose as they started
+away, "you can't afford----"
+
+"Oh, to hell with the sheep. I got you into this scrape and I'll see you
+out of it."
+
+As they galloped away, leading Mose's worn pony, Delmar continued:
+"You're too young to start in as a killer. You've got somebody back in
+the States who thinks you're out here making a man of yourself, and I
+like you too well to see you done up by these dirty cow-country lawyers.
+I'm going to quit the country myself after this fall shipment, and I
+want you to come down my way some time. You better stay up here till
+spring."
+
+They rode steadily till daylight, and then Delmar said: "Now I think
+you're perfectly safe, for this reason: These cusses know you came into
+the country with Pratt, and they'll likely ride over and search the
+Cannon Ball settlement. I'll ride around that way and detain 'em awhile
+and make 'em think you're hiding out, while you make tracks for upper
+country. You keep this river trail. Don't ride too hard, as if you was
+runnin' away, but keep a steady gait, and give your horse one hour out
+o' four to feed. Here's a little snack: don't waste time, but slide
+along without sleeping as long as you can.
+
+"You'll come in sight of the mountains about noon, and you'll see a big
+bunch o' snowpeaks off to the left. Make straight for that, and after
+you go about one day bear sharp to the left, begin to inquire for Bob
+Reynolds on the Arickaree--everybody knows Bob. Just give him this note
+and tell him the whole business; he'll look out for you. Now, good-by,
+boy. I'm sorry--but my intentions were good."
+
+Mose opened his heart at last. "I don't like to desert you this way, Mr.
+Delmar," he said; "it ain't right; I'd rather stay and fight it out."
+
+"I won't have it," replied Delmar.
+
+"You're going to have a lot of trouble."
+
+"Don't you worry about me, and don't you feel streaked about pulling
+your freight. You started wrong on the Cannon Ball. Bob will put you
+right. The cattlemen will rule there for some years yet, and you keep on
+their side. Now, good-by, lad, and take care of yourself."
+
+Mose's voice trembled as he took Delmar's hand and said: "Good-by, Mr.
+Delmar, I'm awfully obliged to you."
+
+"That's all right--now git."
+
+Mose, once more on his own horse, galloped off to the West, his heart
+big with love for his stern benefactor. Delmar sat on his horse and
+watched the boy till he was diminished to a minute spot on the dim
+swells of the plain. Then he wiped a little moisture from his eye with
+the back of his brown, small hand, and turned his horse's head to the
+East.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE YOUNG EAGLE MOUNTS
+
+
+After the momentary sorrow of parting from his good friend, Delmar, the
+youth's heart began to expand with joy. He lifted his arms and shook
+them as the young eagle exults. He was alone on the wide swells of plain
+enacting a part of the wild life of which he had read, and for which he
+had longed. He was riding a swift horse straight toward the mystic
+mountains of the West, leaving behind him the miserable wars of the
+sheep herders and the cattlemen. Every leap of his sturdy pony carried
+him deeper into the storied land and farther from the tumult and shame
+of the night at Running Bear.
+
+He was not one to morbidly analyze, not even to feel remorse. He put the
+past behind him easily. Before him small grasshoppers arose in clapping,
+buzzing clouds. Prairie dogs squeaked and frisked and dived needlessly
+into their dens. Hawks sailed like kites in the glorious, golden, hazy
+air, and on the firm sod the feet of his pony steadily drummed. Once a
+band of antelope crossed a swale, running in silence, jerkily, like a
+train of some singular automatons, moved by sudden, uneven impulses of
+power. The deep-worn buffalo trails seemed so fresh the boy's heart
+quickened with the thought that he might by chance come suddenly upon a
+stray bunch of them feeding in some deep swale.
+
+He had passed beyond fences, and his course was still substantially
+westward. His eyes constantly searched the misty purple-blue horizon for
+a first glimpse of the mountains, though he knew he could not possibly
+come in sight of them so soon. He rode steadily till the sun was
+overhead, when he stopped to let the pony rest and feed. He had a scanty
+lunch in his pocket, which he ate without water. Saddling up an hour or
+two later he continued his steady onward "shack" toward the West.
+
+Once or twice he passed in sight of cattle ranches, but he rode on
+without stopping, though he was hungry and weary. Once he met a couple
+of cowboys who reined out and rode by, one on either side of him, to see
+what brands were on his horse. He was sufficiently waywise to know what
+this meant. The riders remained studiously polite in their inquiries:
+
+"Where ye from, stranger?"
+
+"Upper Cannon Ball."
+
+"Eh--hah. How's the feed there this year?"
+
+"Pretty good."
+
+"Where ye aimin' at now, if it's a fair question?"
+
+"Bob Reynolds' ranch."
+
+"He's over on the head water of the South Fork, ain't he?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, it's a good piece yet. So long," they said in change of manner.
+
+"So long."
+
+They rode away, still filled with curiosity concerning the boy whose
+horse plainly showed hard riding. "He shore wants to git there," said
+one to the other.
+
+Late in the afternoon the youth pulled in his horse and studied with the
+closest care a big cloud looming in the sky. All day snowy thunderheads
+had been emerging into view near the horizon, blooming like gigantic
+roses out of the deep purple of the sky, but this particular cloud had
+not changed its sharp, clean-cut outline for an hour, and, as he looked,
+a veil of vapor suddenly drifted away from it, and Mose's heart leaped
+with exultation, as though a woman's hand had been laid on his shoulder.
+That cloud-like form was a mountain! It could be nothing else, for while
+all around it other domes shifted line and mass, this one remained
+constant, riding through the mist as the moon endures in the midst of
+the flying vapor of the night.
+
+Thereafter he rode with his eyes on that sunlit mass. The land grew
+wilder. Sharp hills broke the smooth expanses, and on these hills groves
+of dwarf pine appeared in irregular clumps like herds of cattle. He
+began to look for a camping place, for he was very tired. For an hour he
+led his spent horse, still moving toward the far-off shining peak, which
+glowed long after darkness had fallen on the plains. At last it grew too
+dim to guide him farther, and slipping the saddle from his horse, he
+turned him loose to feed upon the bunch grass.
+
+As the light faded from the sky so the exultation and sense of freedom
+went out of the boy's heart. His mind went back to the struggle in the
+street. He felt no remorse, no pity for the drunken fools, but he was
+angry and discouraged and disgusted with himself. He had ended in
+failure and in flight where he should have won success and respect. He
+did not directly accuse himself; he had done as well as he could; he
+blamed "things," and said to himself, "it's my luck," by which he meant
+to express a profound feeling of dejection and weakness as of one in the
+grasp of inimical powers. By the working of unfriendly forces he was
+lying there under the pines, hungry, tired, chilled, and lone as a wolf.
+Jack was far away, Mary lost forever to him, and the officers of the law
+again on his trail. It was a time to make a boy a man, a bitter and
+revengeful man.
+
+The night grew chill, and he was forced to walk up and down, wrapped in
+his saddle blanket to keep warm. Fuel was scarce, and his small fire
+sufficed only to warm him in minute sections, and hunger had thinned his
+blood. He was tired and sleepy, too, but dared not lie down for fear of
+being chilled. It would not do to be ill here alone in this land.
+
+It was the loneliest night he had ever known in his life. On the hills
+near by the coyotes kept up ventriloquistic clamor, and from far off the
+bawling of great bulls and the bleating of the calves brought news of a
+huge herd of cattle, but these sounds only made his solitary vigil the
+more impressive. The sleepy chirp of the crickets and the sound of his
+horse nipping the grass, calmly careless of the wolves, were the only
+aids to sleep; all else had the effect to keep his tense nerves
+vibrating. As the cold intensified, the crickets ceased to cry, and the
+pony, having filled his stomach, turned tail to the wind and humped his
+back in drowse. At last, no friendly sounds were left in all the world,
+and shivering, sore, and sullen, the youth faced the east waiting for
+the dawn.
+
+As the first faint light came into the east he turned his face to the
+west, anxiously waiting till the beautiful mountain should blossom from
+the dark. At last it came stealing forth, timid, delicate, blushing like
+a bride from nuptial chamber, ethereal as an angel's wing, persistent as
+a glacial wall. As it broadened and bloomed, the boy threw off his
+depression like a garment. Briskly saddling his shivery but well-fed
+horse he set off, keeping more and more to the left, as his instructions
+ran. But no matter in which direction he rode, his eyes were on the
+mountain. "There is where I end," was his constantly repeated thought.
+It would have been easy for him to have turned aside.
+
+Shortly after sunrise he came upon a ranch set deep in a gully and
+sheltered by piñons. Smoke was curling from the stovepipe, but no other
+sign of life could be detected. He rode directly up to the door, being
+now too hungry and cold to pass by food and shelter, no matter what
+should follow.
+
+A couple of cowboys, armed and armored, came out lazily but with menace
+in their glances.
+
+"Good morning," said Mose.
+
+"Howdy, stranger, howdy," they repeated with instant heartiness. "Git
+off your hoss and come in."
+
+"Thanks, I believe I will. Can you tell me which-a-way is Bob Reynolds'
+ranch?" he asked.
+
+Both men broke into grins. "Well, you've putt' nigh hit it right hyer.
+This is one o' his 'line camps.' The ranch house is about ten miles
+furder on--but slide off and eat a few."
+
+One man took his horse while the other showed him into a big room where
+a huge stack of coals on a rude hearth gave out a cheerful heat. It was
+an ordinary slab shack with three rooms. A slatternly woman was busy
+cooking breakfast in a little lean-to at the back of the larger room, a
+child was wailing in a crib, and before the fire two big, wolfish dogs
+were sleeping. They arose slowly to sniff lazily at Mose's garments, and
+then returned to their drowse before the fire.
+
+"Stranger, you look putt' nigh beat out," said the man who acted as
+host; "you look pale around the gills."
+
+"I am," said Mose; "I got off my course last night, and had to make down
+under a piñon. I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday noon."
+
+"Wal, we'll have some taters and sow-belly in a giff or two. Want 'o
+wash?"
+
+Mose gladly took advantage of the opportunity to clean the dust and
+grime from his skin, though his head was dizzy with hunger. The food was
+bacon, eggs, and potatoes, but it was fairly well cooked, and he ate
+with great satisfaction.
+
+The men were very much interested in him, and tried to get at the heart
+of his relation to Reynolds, but he evaded them. They were lanky
+Missourians, types already familiar to him, and he did not care to make
+confidants of them. The woman was a graceless figure, a silent household
+drudge, sullenly sad, and gaunt, and sickly.
+
+Mose offered to pay for his breakfast, but the boss waved it aside and
+said: "Oh, that's all right; we don't see enough people pass to charge,
+for a breakfast. Besides, we're part o' the Reynolds' outfit, anyway."
+
+As Mose swung into the saddle his heart was light. Away to the south a
+long low cloud of smoke hung. "What is that?" he asked.
+
+"That's the bull-gine on the Great Western; we got two railroads now."
+
+"Which is two too many," said the other man. "First you know the cattle
+business will be wiped out o' 'Rickaree County just as it is bein' wiped
+out in Cheyenne and Runnin' Bear. Nesters and cow milkers are comin'
+in, and will be buildin' fences yet."
+
+"Not in my day," said the host.
+
+"Well, so long," said Mose, and rode away.
+
+The Reynolds' ranch house was built close beside a small creek which had
+cut deep into the bottom of a narrow valley between two piñon-covered
+hills. It squat in the valley like a tortoise, but was much more
+comfortable than most ranch houses of the county. It was surrounded by
+long sheds and circular corrals of pine logs, and looked to be what it
+was, a den in which to seek shelter. A blacksmith's forge was sending up
+a shower of sparks as Mose rode through the gate and up to the main
+stable.
+
+A long-bearded old man tinkering at some repairs to a plow nodded at the
+youth without speaking.
+
+"Is Mr. Reynolds at home?" asked Mose.
+
+"No, but he'll be here in a second--jest rode over the hill to look at a
+sick colt. Git off an' make yuself comfortable."
+
+Mose slipped off his horse and stood watching the queer old fellow as he
+squinted and hammered upon a piece of iron, chewing furiously meanwhile
+at his tobacco. It was plain his skill was severely taxed by the
+complexity of the task in hand.
+
+As he stood waiting Mose saw a pretty young woman come out of the house
+and take a babe from the ground with matronly impatience of the dirt
+upon its dress.
+
+The old man followed the direction of the young man's eyes and mumbled:
+"Old man's girl.... Her child."
+
+Mose asked no questions, but it gave a new and powerful interest to the
+graceful figure of the girl.
+
+Occasionally the old man lifted his eyes toward the ridge, as if looking
+for some one, and at last said, "Old man--comin'."
+
+A horseman came into view on the ridge, sitting his horse with the grace
+and ease of one who lives in the saddle. As he zig-zagged down the steep
+bank, his pony, a vicious and powerful roan "grade," was on its haunches
+half the time, sliding, leaping, trotting. The rider, a smallish man,
+with a brown beard, was dressed in plain clothing, much the worse for
+wind and sun. He seemed not to observe the steepness and roughness of
+the trail.
+
+As he rode up and slipped from his horse Mose felt much drawn to him,
+for his was a kindly and sad face. His voice, as he spoke, was low and
+soft, only his eyes, keen and searching, betrayed the resolute
+plainsman.
+
+"Howdy, stranger?" he said in Southern fashion. "Glad to see you, sir."
+
+Mose presented his note from Delmar.
+
+"From old Delmar, eh? How did you leave him? In good health and spirits,
+I hope."
+
+He spoke in the rhythmical way of Tennesseans, emphasizing the auxiliary
+verbs beyond their usual value. After reading the letter he extended his
+hand. "I am very glad to meet you, sir. I am indeed. Bill, take care of
+Mr.----" He paused, and looked at the latter.
+
+"Mose--Mose Harding," interpolated Mose.
+
+"Put in Harding's horse. Come right in, Mr. Harding; I reckon dinner is
+in process of simmering by this time."
+
+"Call me Mose," said the youth. "That's what Delmar called me."
+
+Reynolds smiled. "Very good, sir; Mose it shall be."
+
+They entered the front door into the low-ceiled, small sitting room
+where a young girl was sitting sewing, with a babe at her feet.
+
+"My daughter, Mrs. Craig," said Reynolds gently. "Daughter, this young
+man is Mr. Mose Harding, who comes from my old friend Delmar. He is
+going to stay with us for a time. Sit down, Mose, and make yourself at
+home."
+
+The girl blushed painfully, and Mose flushed sympathetically. He could
+not understand the mystery, and ignored her confusion as far as
+possible. The room was shabby and well worn. A rag carpet covered the
+floor. The white plastered walls had pictures cut from newspapers and
+magazines pinned upon them to break the monotony. The floor was littered
+also with toys, clothing, and tools, which the baby had pulled about,
+but the room wrought powerfully upon the boy's heart, giving him the
+first real touch of homesickness he had felt since leaving the Burns'
+farm that bright March day, now so far away it seemed that it was deep
+in the past. For a few moments he could not speak, and the girl was
+equally silent. She gathered up the baby's clothes and playthings, and
+passed into another room, leaving the young man alone.
+
+His heart was very tender with memories. He thought of Mary and of his
+sister Maud, and his throat ached. The wings of the young eagle were
+weary, and here was safety and rest, he felt that intuitively, and when
+Reynolds returned with his wife, a pleasant-featured woman of large
+frame, tears were in the boy's eyes.
+
+Mrs. Reynolds wiped her fingers on her apron and shook hands with him
+cordially. "I s'pose you're hungry as a wolf. Wal, I'll hurry up dinner.
+Mebbe you'd like a biscuit?"
+
+Mose professed to be able to wait, and at last convinced the hospitable
+soul. "Wal, I'll hurry things up a little," she said as she went out.
+Reynolds, as he took a seat, said: "Delmar writes that you just got
+mixed up in some kind o' fuss down there. I reckon you had better tell
+me how it was."
+
+Mose was glad to unburden his heart. As the story proceeded, Reynolds
+sat silently looking at the stove hearth, glancing at the youth only now
+and again as he reached some dramatic point. The girl came back into the
+room, and as she listened, her timidity grew less painful. The boy's
+troubles made a bond of sympathy between them, and at last Mose found
+himself telling his story to her. Her beautiful brown eyes grew very
+deep and tender as he described his flight, his hunger, and his
+weariness.
+
+When he ended, she drew a sigh of sympathetic relief, and Reynolds said:
+"Mm! you have no certain knowledge, I reckon, whether you killed your
+man or not?"
+
+"I can't remember. It was dark. We fired a dozen shots. I am afraid I
+hit; I am too handy with the revolver to miss."
+
+"Mm, so Delmar says. Well, you're out of the State, and I have no belief
+they will take the trouble to look you up. Anyhow, I reckon you better
+stay with us till we see how the fuss ends. You certainly are a likely
+young rider, an' I can use you right hyere till you feel like goin'
+farther."
+
+A wave of grateful emotion rushed over the boy, blinding his eyes with
+tears, and before he could speak to thank his benefactor, dinner was
+called. The girl perceived the tears in his eyes, and as they went out
+to dinner she looked at him with a comradeship born of the knowledge
+that he, too, had suffered.
+
+He returned her glance with one equally frank and friendly, and all
+through the meal he addressed himself to her more often than to her
+parents. She was of the most gentle, and patient, and yielding type. Her
+beautiful lips and eyes expressed only sweetness and feminine charm, and
+her body, though thin and bent, was of girlish slimness.
+
+Reynolds warmed to the boy wondrously. As they arose from the table he
+said:
+
+"We'll ride over to the round-up to-morrow, and I'll introduce you to
+the cow boss, and you can go right into the mess. I'll turn my horse
+over to you; I'm getting mighty near too old to enjoy rustlin' cattle
+together, and I'll just naturally let you take my place."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+ON THE ROUND-UP
+
+
+Mose was awakened next morning by the whirring of the coffee mill, a
+vigorous and cheerful sound. Mrs. Reynolds and Cora were busily
+preparing breakfast, and their housewifely movements about the kitchen
+below gave the boy a singular pleasure. The smell of meat in the pan
+rose to his nostrils, and the cooing laughter of the baby added a final
+strand in a homely skein of noises. No household so homelike and secure
+had opened to him since he said good-by to his foster parents in Rock
+River.
+
+He dressed and hurried down and out to the barn. Frost lay white on the
+grass, cattle were bawling somewhere in the distance. The smoke of the
+kitchen went up into the sky straight as a poplar tree. The beautiful
+plain, hushed and rapt, lay waiting for the sun.
+
+As he entered the stable, Mose found Reynolds looking carefully at Jack.
+"That looks a gentle horse; I can't see a mean thing about him. I don't
+reckon he's a cow hoss, is he?"
+
+"No, I don't suppose he is a regular cow horse, but he'll soon learn."
+
+"I must trade you outen that hoss. I certainly am 'blieged to do so. I'm
+growin' old, boy. I don't take the pleasu' in a broncho that I once did.
+I certainly am tired of hosses I can't touch with my hand. Fo' fo'ty
+yeahs I have handled these locoed hosses--they ah all locoed in my
+judgment--and I am plum tired of such. I shall send to Missouri aw
+Tennessee and get me a hoss I can trust. Meanwhile, you leave me yo'
+hoss an' take my bald-face pinto there; he is the fastest hoss on the
+range an' a plum devil, but that won't mattah to you, for you ah young
+an' frisky."
+
+Mose hated to yield up his gentle and faithful horse even for a short
+time, but could not decently refuse. He shifted his saddle to the pinto
+with Reynolds' help.
+
+"Whoa, there, Wild Cat," called the rancher, as the wicked eyes began to
+roll. "He'll get usen to ye after a day or two," he said reassuringly.
+
+Mose's horsemanship was on trial, and though nervous and white, he led
+the pinto out and prepared to mount.
+
+"If he wants to gambol a little, just let him go, only keep his head
+up," said Reynolds with careless glance.
+
+Cora came out of the house and stood looking on, while Mose tightened
+the cinch again, and grasping the pommel with both hands put his toe in
+the stirrup. The pinto leaped away sidewise, swift as a cat, but before
+he could fairly get into motion Mose was astride, with both feet in the
+stirrups. With a series of savage sidewise bounds, the horse made off at
+a tearing pace, thrusting his head upon the bit in the hope to jerk his
+rider out of his seat. Failing of this he began to leap like a sheep.
+Just as he was about to let up on this Mose sank the rowels into him
+with a wild yell, and hotly lashed him from side to side with the end of
+his rope. For a few rods the horse continued to leap with stiffened legs
+and upraised back, then abandoned all tricks and ran up the hill like a
+scared antelope.
+
+When Reynolds caught up with his new "hand" he smiled and said: "I
+reckon you can be trusted to look out fo' yo'sef," and the heart of the
+youth glowed with pleasure.
+
+Again he felt the majesty and splendor of the life into which he had
+penetrated. The measureless plain, dimpled and wrinkled, swept downward
+toward the flaming eastern sky unmarked of man. To the west, cut close
+across their snow tops by the plain's edge, three enormous and
+snow-armored peaks arose, the sunlight already glittering on the thin,
+new-fallen snows.
+
+Coyotes, still at vigil on the hills, slid out of sight at the coming of
+the horsemen. The prairie dogs peered sleepily from their burrows.
+Cattle in scattered bands snuffed and stared or started away hulking,
+yet swift, the bulls sullen and ferocious, the calves wild as deer.
+There were no fences, no furrows, no wagon tracks, no sign of sheep. It
+was the cow country in very truth.
+
+On the way Reynolds said very little. Occasionally as they drew their
+ponies to a walk he remarked upon the kindliness of the horse, and said,
+"I hope you'll like my horse as well as I like youah's."
+
+It was nearly twelve o'clock when they topped a treeless ridge and came
+in sight of the round-up. Below them, in the midst of a wide, grassy
+river flat, stood several tents and a covered wagon. Nearby lay a strong
+circular corral of poplar logs filled with steers. At some distance from
+the corral a dense mass of slowly revolving cattle moved, surrounded by
+watching horsemen. Down from the hills and up the valley came other
+horsemen, hurrying forward irregular bands of cows and calves. A small
+fire near the corral was sending up a pale strand of smoke, and at the
+tail of the wagon a stovepipe, emitting a darker column, told that
+dinner was in preparation. Over the scene the cloudless September sky
+arched. Dust arose under the heels of the herds, and the bawling roar of
+bulls, the call of agonized cows, and the answering bleat of calves
+formed the base of the shrill whoopings and laughter of the men. Nothing
+could be wilder, more stirring, more picturesque, except a camp of Sioux
+or Cheyennes in the days of the buffalo.
+
+In a few minutes Mose was in the midst of the turmoil. Everyone greeted
+Reynolds with affection, and he replied in the stately phrases which had
+made him famous, "How do you do, gentlemen. I certainly am glad to see
+you enjoyin' this fine fall day. Captain Charlesworth, allow me to
+present my young friend, Moses Harding."
+
+Captain Charlesworth, a tall man with a squint eye and a humorous
+glance, came up to shake hands as Mose slipped from his broncho.
+
+Reynolds went on: "Captain Charlesworth is cow boss, an' will see that
+you earn yo' bo'd. Cap'n, this young man comes from my good friend,
+Cap'n Delmar, of Sante Fe. You know Delmar?"
+
+"I should think so," said the boss. "It seems this youngster kin ride,
+seem's he's on Wild Cat."
+
+Reynolds smiled: "I reckon you can consider him both able and willin',
+captain."
+
+"Well, slip off an' eat. I'll take care o' the cayuses."
+
+On the ground, scattered among the tents, and in the shade of the cook
+wagon, were some twenty or thirty herders. For the most part they were
+slender, bronzed, and active, of twenty-five or thirty, with broad white
+hats (faded and flapping in the brim), gray or blue woolen shirts (once
+gay with red lacing), and dark pantaloons, tucked into tall boots with
+long heels. Spurs jingled at the heels of their tall boots, and most of
+them wore bandannas of silk or cotton looped gracefully about their
+necks. A few of the younger ones wore a sort of rude outside trouser of
+leather called "chaps," and each of them carried a revolver slung at the
+hip. They were superb examples of adaptation to environment, alert,
+bold, and graceful of movement.
+
+A relay of them were already at dinner, with a tin plate full of "grub"
+and a big tin cup steaming with coffee before each man. They sat almost
+anywhere to eat, on saddles, wagon tongues--any convenient place. Some
+of them, more orderly, were squatted along a sort of table made of
+folded blankets piled through the center of a tent. Here Reynolds took a
+seat, and Mose followed, shrinking a little from the keen scrutiny of
+the men. The fact that Reynolds vouched for him, however, was
+introduction, and the cook made a place for him readily enough, and
+brought him a plate and a cup.
+
+"Boys," said Reynolds, "this young feller is just come to town. His name
+is Mose Harding, and he can ride a hoss all right, all right. He's
+a-goin' to make a hand here in my place; treat him fair."
+
+There was a moment's awkward pause, and then Mose said: "I'm going to
+try to do my share."
+
+As he had time to look around he began to individualize the men. One of
+the first to catch his eye was an Indian who sat near the door of the
+tent. He was dressed like the other men, but was evidently a full-blood.
+His skin was very dark, not at all red or copper colored, and Mose
+inferred that he was a Ute. His eyes were fixed on Mose with intent
+scrutiny, and when the boy smiled the Indian's teeth gleamed white in
+ready good nature, and they were friends at once. The talk was all about
+the work on hand, the tussles with steers, the number of unbranded
+calves, the queries concerning shipment, etc.
+
+Dinner was soon over, and "Charley," as the cow boss was called by his
+men, walked out with Mose toward the corral. "Kin ye rope?" he asked.
+
+"No, not for a cent."
+
+"Let him hold the herd foh a day or two," suggested Reynolds. "Give him
+time to work in."
+
+"All right, s'pose you look after him this afternoon."
+
+Together Reynolds and Mose rode out toward the slowly "milling" herd, a
+hungry, hot, and restless mob of broadhorns, which required careful
+treatment. As he approached, the dull roar of their movement, their
+snuffling and moaning, thrilled the boy. He saw the gleaming, clashing
+horns of the great animals uplift and mass and change, and it seemed to
+him there were acres and acres of them.
+
+Reynolds called out to two sweating, dusty, hoarse young fellows: "Go to
+grub, boys."
+
+Without a word they wheeled their horses and silently withdrew, while
+Reynolds became as instantly active.
+
+His voice arose to a shout: "Now, lively, Mose, keep an eye on the herd,
+and if any cow starts to break out--lively now--turn him in."
+
+A big bay steer, lifting his head, suddenly started to leave the herd.
+Mose spurred his horse straight at him with a yell, and turned him
+back.
+
+"That's right," shouted Reynolds.
+
+Mose understood more of it than Reynolds realized. He took his place in
+the cordon, and aided in the work with very few blunders. The work was
+twofold in character. Fat cattle were to be cut out of the herd for
+shipment, unbranded calves were to be branded, and strays tallied and
+thrown back to their own feeding grounds. Into the crush of great,
+dusty, steaming bodies, among tossing, cruel, curving horns the men rode
+to "cut out" the beeves and to rope the calves. It was a furious scene,
+yet there was less excitement than Mose at first imagined. Occasionally,
+as a roper returned, he paused on the edge of the herd long enough to
+"eat" a piece of tobacco and pass a quiet word with a fellow, then
+spurring his horse, re-entered the herd again. No matter how swift his
+action, his eyes were quiet.
+
+It was hard work; dusty, hot, and dangerous also. To be unhorsed in that
+struggling mass meant serious injury if not death. The youth was glad of
+heart to think that he was not required to enter the herd.
+
+That night, when the horse herd came tearing down the mesa, Reynolds
+said: "Now, Mose, you fall heir to my shift of horses, too. Let me show
+them to you. Each man has four extra horses. That wall-eyed roan is
+mine, so is the sorrel mare with the star face. That big all-over bay,
+the finest hoss in the whole outfit, is mine, too, but he is unbroken.
+He shore is a hard problem. I'll give him to you, if you can break him,
+or I'll trade him for your Jack."
+
+"I'll do it," cried Mose, catching his breath in excitement as he
+studied the splendid beast. His lithe, tigerlike body glittered in the
+sun, though his uplifted head bore a tangled, dusty mat of mane. He was
+neglected, wary, and unkempt, but he was magnificent. Every movement of
+his powerful limbs made the boy ache to be his master.
+
+Thus Mose took his place among the cowboys. He started right, socially,
+this time. No one knew that he had been a sheep herder but Reynolds, and
+Reynolds did not lay it up against him. He was the equal of any of them
+in general horsemanship, they admitted that at the end of the second
+day, though he was not so successful in handling cattle as they thought
+he should be. It was the sense of inefficiency in these matters which
+led him to give an exhibition of his skill with the revolver one evening
+when the chance offered. He shot from his horse in all conceivable
+positions, at all kinds of marks, and with all degrees of speed, till
+one of the boys, accustomed to good shooting, said:
+
+"You kin jest about shoot."
+
+"That's right," said the cow boss; "I'd hate to have him get a grutch
+agin me."
+
+Mose warmed with pardonable pride. He was taking high place in their
+ranks, and was entirely happy during these pleasant autumn days. On his
+swift and wise little ponies he tore across the sod in pursuit of swift
+steers, or came rattling down a hillside, hot at the heels of a
+wild-eyed cow and calf, followed by a cataract of pebbles. Each day he
+bestrode his saddle till his bones cried out for weariness, and his
+stomach, walls ground together for want of food, but when he sat among
+his fellows to eat with keenest pleasure the beef and beans of the pot
+wrestler's providing, he was content. He had no time to think of Jack or
+Mary except on the nights when he took his trick at watching the night
+herd. Then, sometimes in the crisp and fragrant dusk, with millions of
+stars blazing overhead, he experienced a sweet and powerful longing for
+a glimpse of the beautiful girlish face which had lightened his days and
+nights in prison.
+
+The herders were rough, hearty souls, for the most part, often obscene
+and rowdy as they sat and sang around the camp fire. Mose had never
+been a rude boy; on the contrary, he had always spoken in rather
+elevated diction, due, no doubt, to the influence of his father, whose
+speech was always serious and well ordered. Therefore, when the songs
+became coarse he walked away and smoked his pipe alone, or talked with
+Jim the Ute, whose serious and dignified silence was in vivid contrast.
+
+Some way, coarse speech and ribald song brought up, by the power of
+contrast, the pure, sweet faces of Mary and his sister Maud. Two or
+three times in his boyhood he had come near to slaying pert lads who had
+dared to utter coarse words in his sister's presence. There was in him
+too much of the essence of the highest chivalry to permit such things.
+
+It happened, therefore, that he spent much time with "Ute Jim," who was
+a simple and loyal soul, thoughtful, and possessing a sense of humor
+withal. Mose took great pleasure in sitting beside the camp fire with
+this son of the plains, while he talked of the wild and splendid life of
+the days before the white man came. His speech was broken, but Mose
+pieced it out by means of the sign language, so graceful, so dignified,
+and so dramatic, that he was seized with the fervid wish to acquire a
+knowledge of it. This he soon did, and thereafter they might be seen at
+any time of day signaling from side to side of the herd, the Indian
+smiling and shaking his head when the youth made a mistake.
+
+Jim believed in his new friend, and when questions brought out the
+history of the dispossession of his people he grew very sorrowful. His
+round cheeks became rigid and his eyes were turned away. "Injun no like
+fight white man all time. Injun gotta fight. White man crowd Injun back,
+back, no game, no rain, no corn. Injun heap like rivers, trees, all
+same--white man no like 'um, go on hot plain, no trees, no mountains, no
+game."
+
+But he threw off these somber moods quickly, and resumed his stories of
+himself, of long trips to the snowpeaks, which he seemed to regard in
+the light of highest daring. The high mountains were not merely far from
+the land of his people; they were mythic places inhabited by monstrous
+animals that could change from beast to fowl, and talk--great, conjuring
+creatures, whose powers were infinite in scope. As the red man struggled
+forward in his story, attempting to define these conceptions, the heart
+of the prairie youth swelled with a poignant sense of drawing near a
+great mystery. The conviction of Jim's faith for the moment made him
+more than half believe in the powers of the mountain people. Day by day
+his longing for the "high country" grew.
+
+At the first favorable moment he turned to the task of subduing the
+splendid bay horse for which he had traded his gentle Jack. One Sunday,
+when he had a few hours off, Mose went to Alf, the chief "roper," and
+asked him to help him catch "Kintuck," as Reynolds called the bay.
+
+"All right," said Alf; "I'll tie him up in a jiffy."
+
+"Can you get him without marking him all up?"
+
+"I don't believe it. He's going to thrash around like h--l a-blazin';
+we'll have to choke him down."
+
+Mose shook his head. "I can't stand that. I s'pose it'll skin his
+fetlocks if you get him by the feet."
+
+"Oh, it may, may not; depends on how he struggles."
+
+Mose refused to allow his shining, proud-necked stallion to be roped and
+thrown, and asked the boys to help drive him into a strong corral,
+together with five or six other horses. This was done, and stripping
+himself as for a race, Mose entered the coral and began walking rapidly
+round and round, following the excited animals. Hour after hour he kept
+this steady, circling walk, till the other horses were weary, till
+Kintuck ceased to snort, till the blaze of excitement passed out of his
+eyes, till he walked with a wondering backward glance, as if to ask:
+"Two-legged creature, why do you so persistently follow me?"
+
+The cowboys jeered at first, but after a time they began to marvel at
+the dogged walk of the youth. They gathered about the walls of the
+corral and laid bets on the outcome. At the end of the third hour
+Kintuck walked with a mechanical air, all the fire and fury gone out of
+him. He began to allow his pursuer to approach him closely, almost near
+enough to be touched. At the end of the four hours he allowed Mose to
+lay his hand on his nose, and Mose petted him and went to dinner. Odds
+stood in Mose's favor as he returned to the corral. He was covered with
+dust and sweat, but he was confident. He began to speak to the horse in
+a gentle, firm voice. At times the stallion faced him with head lifted,
+a singular look in his eyes, as though he meditated leaping upon his
+captor. At first Mose took no notice of these actions, did not slacken
+his pace, but continued to press the bay on and on. At last he began to
+approach the horse with his hand lifted, looking him in the eyes and
+speaking to him. Snorting as if with terror, the splendid animal faced
+him again and again, only to wheel at the last moment.
+
+The cowboys were profanely contemptuous. "Think of taking all that
+trouble."
+
+"Rope him, and put a saddle on him and bust him," they called
+resoundingly.
+
+Mose kept on steadily. At last, when all the other horses had been
+turned loose, Kintuck, trembling, and with a curious stare in his eyes,
+again allowed Mose to lay his hand on his nose. He shrank away, but did
+not wheel. It was sunset, and the horse was not merely bewildered, he
+was physically tired. The touch of his master's hand over his eyes
+seemed to subjugate him, to take away his will. When Mose turned to walk
+away the horse followed him as though drawn by some magnetic force, and
+the herders looked at each other in amazement. Thereafter he had but to
+be accustomed to the bridle and saddle, and to be taught the duties of a
+cow horse. He had come to love his master.
+
+This exploit increased the fame of "Dandy Mose," as the cowboys came to
+call him, because of the nature of his dress. He was bronzed now, and a
+very creditable brown mustache added to the maturity of his face. He was
+gaunt with hard riding, and somber and reticent in manner, so that he
+seemed to be much older than his years. Before the beef round-up was
+ended, he could rope a steer fairly well, could cut out or hold the
+herd as well as the best, and in pistol practice he had no equal.
+
+He was well pleased with himself. He loved the swift riding, the night
+watches, the voices of wolves, the turmoil of the camp, the rush of the
+wild wide-horned herd, and the pounding roar of the relay horses as they
+came flying into camp of a morning. It all suited well with the leaping
+blood of his heart and the restless vigor of his limbs. He thought of
+his old home very little--even Mary was receding into the mist of
+distance.
+
+When the beef herd was ready to be driven to the shipping point,
+Reynolds asked him if he wished to go. He shook his head. "No, I'll stay
+here." He did not say so, but he was still a little afraid of being
+called to account for his actions in Running Bear. He saw the herd move
+off with regret, for he would have enjoyed the ride exceedingly. He
+cared little for the town, though he would have liked the opportunity to
+make some purchases. He returned to the Reynolds ranch to spend the
+autumn and the winter in such duties as the stock required.
+
+As the great peaks to the west grew whiter and whiter, looming ever
+larger at dawn, the heart of the boy grew restless. The dark cañons
+allured him, the stream babbled strange stories to him--tales of the
+rocky spaces from which it came--until the boy dreamed of great white
+doors that opened on wondrous green parks.
+
+One morning when Cora called the men to breakfast Mose and Jim did not
+respond. A scrawl from Mose said: "We've gone to the mountains. I'll be
+back in the spring. Keep my outfit for me, and don't worry."
+
+
+
+
+PART II
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE YOUNG EAGLE FLUTTERS THE DOVE-COTE
+
+
+The little town of Marmion was built on the high, grassy, parklike bank
+of the Cedar River; at least, the main part of the residences and stores
+stood on the upper level, while below, beside the roaring water, only a
+couple of mills and some miserable shacks straggled along a road which
+ran close to the sheer walls of water-worn limestone.
+
+The town was considered "picturesque" by citizens of the smaller farm
+villages standing bleakly where the prairie lanes intersected. To be
+able to live in Marmion was held to be eminent good fortune by the
+people roundabout, and the notion was worth working for. "If things turn
+out well we will buy a lot in Marmion and build a house there," husbands
+occasionally said to their wives and daughters, to console them for the
+mud, or dirt, or heat, or cold of the farm life. One by one some of
+those who had come into the country early, and whose land had grown
+steadily in value as population increased, were able to rent their farms
+to advantage and "move into town." Thus the streets gradually lengthened
+out into the lanes, and brick blocks slowly replaced the battlemented
+wooden stores of earlier frontier construction.
+
+To Harold Excell, fresh from the wide spaces of the plains, the town
+appeared smothered in leaves, and the air was oppressively stagnant. He
+came into the railway station early one July morning, tired and dusty,
+with a ride of two days and a night in an ordinary coach. As he walked
+slowly up the street toward the center of the sleeping village, the odor
+of ripe grain and the familiar smell of poplar and maple trees went to
+his heart. His blood leaped with remembered joys. Under such trees, in
+the midst of such fragrance, he had once walked with his sister and with
+Jack. His heart swelled with the thought of the Burns' farm, and the
+hearty greeting they would give him could he but ride up to the door.
+
+And Mary! How would she seem to him now? Four years was a long time at
+that period of a girl's life, but he was certain he would recognize her.
+He had not written to her of his coming, for he wished to announce
+himself. There were elements of adventure and surprise in the plan which
+pleased him. He had not heard from her for nearly a year, and that
+troubled him a little; perhaps she had moved away or was married. The
+thought of losing her made him shiver with sudden doubt of the good
+sense of his action. Anyhow, he would soon know.
+
+The clerk of the principal hotel was sleeping on a cot behind the
+counter, and Mose considerately decided not to wake him. Taking a seat
+by the window, he resumed his thinking, while the morning light
+infiltrated the sky. He was only twenty-two years of age, but in his own
+thought he had left boyhood far behind. As a matter of fact he looked to
+be five years older than he was. His face was set in lines indicating
+resolution and daring, his drooping mustache hid the boyish curves of
+his lips, and he carried himself with a singular grace, self-confident,
+decisive, but not assertive. The swing of his shoulders had charm, and
+he walked well. The cowboy's painful hobble had not yet been fastened
+upon him.
+
+Sitting there waiting the dawn, his face became tired, somber, almost
+haggard, with self-accusing thought. He was not yet a cattle king, he
+was, in fact, still a cowboy. The time had gone by when a hired hand
+could easily acquire a bunch of cattle and start in for himself--and
+yet, though he had little beyond his saddle and a couple of horses, he
+was in Marmion to look upon the face of the girl who had helped him to
+keep "square" and clean in a land where dishonesty and vice were common
+as sage brush. He had sworn never to set foot in Rock River again, and
+no one but Jack knew of his visit to Marmion.
+
+Now that he was actually in the town where Mary lived he was puzzled to
+know how to proceed. He had wit enough to know that in Marmion a girl
+could not receive visits from a strange young man and escape the fire of
+infuriate gossip. He feared to expose her to such comment, and yet,
+having traveled six hundred miles to see her, he was not to be deterred
+by any other considerations, especially by any affecting himself.
+
+He knew something, but not all, of the evil fame his name conveyed to
+the citizens in his native state. As "Harry Excell, _alias_ Black Mose,"
+he had figured in the great newspapers of Chicago, and Denver, and
+Omaha. Imaginative and secretly admiring young reporters had heaped
+alliterative words together to characterize his daring, his skill as a
+marksman and horseman, and had also darkly hinted of his part in
+desperate stage and railway robbery in the Farther West. To all this--up
+to the time of his return--Harold had replied, "These chaps must earn a
+living some way, I reckon." He was said to have shot down six men in
+his first "scrimmage." "No one presumes to any impertinent inquiries
+when 'Black Mose' rides into town."
+
+Another enterprising newspaper youth had worked out the secret history
+of "Black Mose": "He began his career of crime early; at sixteen years
+of age he served in State's prison for knifing a rival back in the
+States." This report enabled the Rock River Call to identify Harold
+Excell with "Black Mose," to the pain and humiliation of Pastor Excell.
+
+Harold paid very little heed to all this till his longing to see Mary
+grew intolerable--even now, waiting for the Sabbath day to dawn, he did
+not fully realize the black shadow which streamed from his name and his
+supposititious violences. He divined enough of it to know that he must
+remain unknown to others, and he registered as "M. Harding, Omaha."
+
+He was somewhat startled to find himself without appetite, and pushing
+away his tough steak and fried potatoes, he arose and returned to the
+street. The problem before him required delicacy of handling, and he was
+not one to assume a tactful manner. The closer he came to the meeting
+the more difficult it became. He must see her without causing comment,
+and without Jack's aid he saw no way of doing it. He had written to
+Jack, asking him to meet him, and so he waited.
+
+He was a perilously notable figure in spite of his neat black suit and
+quiet ways. His wide hat sat upon his head with a negligence which
+stopped short of swagger, and his coat revealed the splendid lines of
+his muscular shoulders. He had grown to a physical manhood which had the
+leopard's lithe grace and the lion's gravity. His dimpled and
+clean-shaven chin was strong, and the line of his lips firm. His eyes
+were steady and penetrating, giving an impression of reticence. His
+hands were slender and brown, and soft in the palms as those of a girl.
+The citizens marveled over him as he moved slowly through the streets,
+thinking himself quite indistinguishable among the other young men in
+dark suits and linen collars.
+
+Waiting was most difficult, and to remain indoors was impossible, so he
+walked steadily about the town. As he returned from the river road for
+the fifth time, the bells began to ring for church, filling him with
+other memories of his youth, of his father and his pulpit, and brought
+to his mind also the sudden recollection of one of Jack's letters,
+wherein he mentioned Mary's singing in the choir. If she were at home
+she would be singing yet, he argued, and set forth definitely to find
+her.
+
+To inquire was out of the question--so he started in at the largest
+church with intent to make the rounds. After waiting till the choir was
+about to begin the first hymn, he slipped in and took a seat near the
+door, his heart beating loudly and his breath much quickened.
+
+The interior was so familiar, it seemed for the moment to be his
+father's church in Rock River. The odors, sounds, movements were quite
+the same. The same deaf old men, led by determined, sturdy old women,
+were going up the aisle to the front pews. The pretty girls, taking
+their seats in the middle pews (where their new hats could be enjoyed by
+the young men at the rear) became Dot, and Alice, and Nettie--and for
+the moment the cowboy was very boyish and tender. The choir assembling
+above the pulpit made him shiver with emotion. "Perhaps one of them will
+be Mary and I won't know her," he said to himself. "I will know her
+voice," he added.
+
+But, as the soprano took her place, his heart ceased to pound--she was
+small, and dark, and thin. He arose and slipped out to continue his
+search.
+
+They were singing as he entered the next chapel, and it required but a
+moment's listening to convince himself that Mary was not there. The
+third church was a small stone building of odd structure, and while he
+hesitated before its door, a woman's voice took up a solo strain,
+powerful, exultant, and so piercingly sweet that the plainsman shivered
+as if with sudden cold. Around him the softly moving maples threw
+dappling shadows on the walk. The birds in the orchards, the insects in
+the grass, the clouds overhead seemed somehow involved in the poetry and
+joy of that song. The wild heart of the young trailer became like that
+of a child, made sweet and tender by the sovereign power of a voice.
+
+He did not move till the clear melody sank into the harmony of the
+organ, then, with bent head and limbs unwontedly infirm, he entered the
+lovely little audience room. He stumbled into the first seat in the
+corner, his eyes piercing the colored dusk which lay between him and the
+singer. It was Mary, and it seemed to him that she had become a
+princess, sitting upon a throne. Accustomed to see only the slatternly
+women of the cow towns, or the thin, hard-worked, and poorly-dressed
+wives and daughters of the ranchers, he humbled himself before the
+beauty and dignity and refinement of this young singer.
+
+She was a mature woman, full-bosomed, grave of feature, introspective of
+glance. Her graceful hat, her daintily gloved hands, her tasteful dress,
+impressed the cowboy with a feeling that all art and poetry and
+refinement were represented by her. For the moment his own serenity and
+self-command were shaken. He cowered in his seat like a dust-covered
+plowman in a parlor, and when Mary looked in his direction his breath
+quickened and he shrank. He was not yet ready to have her recognize him.
+
+The preacher, a handsome and scholarly young fellow, arose to speak, and
+Harold was interested in him at once. The service had nothing of the
+old-time chant or drawl or drone. In calm, unhesitating speech the young
+man proceeded, from a text of Hebrew scripture, to argue points of right
+and wrong among men, and to urge upon his congregation right thinking
+and right action. He used a great many of the technical phrases of
+carpenters and stonemasons and sailors. He showed familiarity also with
+the phrases of the cattle country. Several times a low laugh rippled
+over his congregation as he uttered some peculiarly apt phrase or made
+use of some witty illustration. To the cowboy this sort of preaching
+came with surprise. He thought: "The boys would kieto to this chap all
+right." He was not eager to have them listen to Mary singing.
+
+Sitting there amid the little audience of thoughtful people, his brain
+filled with new conceptions of the world and of human life. Nothing was
+clearly defined in the tumult of opposing pictures. At one moment he
+thought of his sister and his family, but before he could imagine her
+home or decide on how to see her, a picture of his father, or Jack, or
+the peaceful Burns' farm came whirling like another cloud before his
+brain, and all the time his eyes searched Mary's calm and beautiful
+face. He saw her smile, too, when the preacher made a telling
+application of a story. How would she receive him after so many years?
+She had not answered his last letter; perhaps she was married. Again the
+chilly wind from the cañon of doubt blew upon him. If she was, why that
+ended it. He would go back to the mountains and never return.
+
+The minister finished at last and Mary arose again to sing. She was
+taller, Harold perceived, and more matronly in all ways. As she sang,
+the lonely soul of the plainsman was moved to an ecstasy which filled
+his throat and made his eyes misty with tears. He thought of his days in
+the gray prison, and of this girlish voice singing like an angel to
+comfort him. She did not seem to be singing to him now. She sang as a
+bird sings out of abounding health and happiness, and as she sang, the
+mountains retreated into vast distances. The rush of the cattle on the
+drive was fainter than the sigh of the wind, and the fluting of the Ute
+lover was of another world. For the moment he felt the majesty and the
+irrevocableness of human life.
+
+He stood in a shadowed corner at the close of the service and watched
+her come down the aisle. As she drew near his breath left him, and the
+desire to lay his hand on her arm became so intense that his fingers
+locked upon the back of his pew--but he let her pass. She glanced at him
+casually, then turned to smile at some word of the preacher walking just
+behind her. Her passing was like music, and the fragrance of her
+garments was sweeter than any mountain flower. The grace of her walk,
+the exquisite fairness of her skin subdued him, who acknowledged no
+master and no mistress. She walked on out into the Sabbath sunshine and
+he followed, only to see her turn up the sidewalk close to the shoulder
+of the handsome young minister.
+
+The lonely youth walked back to his hotel with manner so changed his
+mountain companions would have marveled at it. A visit which had seemed
+so simple on the Arickaree became each moment more complicated in
+civilization. The refined young minister with the brown pointed beard,
+so kindly and thoughtful and wholesome of manner, was a new sort of man
+to such as Harold Excell. He feared no rivalry among the youth of the
+village, but this scholar----
+
+Jack met him at the hotel--faithful old Jack, whose freckled face
+beamed, and whose spectacled eyes were dim with gladness. They shook
+hands again and again, crying out confused phrases. "Old man, how are
+you?" "I'm all right, how are you?" "You look it." "Where'd you find the
+red whiskers?" "They came in a box." "Your mustache is a wonder."
+
+Ultimately they took seats and looked at each other narrowly and
+quietly. Then Harold said, "I'm Mr. Harding here."
+
+Jack replied: "I understand. Your father knows, too. He wants to come up
+and see you. I said I'd wire, shall I?"
+
+"Of course--if he wants to see me--but I want to talk to you first. I've
+seen Mary!"
+
+"Have you? How did you manage?"
+
+"I trailed her. Went to all the churches in town. She sings in a little
+stone church over here."
+
+"I know. I've been up here to see her once or twice myself."
+
+Harold seized him by the arm. "See here, Jack--I must talk with her. How
+can I manage it without doing her harm?"
+
+"That's the question. If these people should connect you with 'Black
+Mose' they'd form a procession behind you. Harry, you don't know, you
+can't imagine the stories they've got up about you. They've made you
+into a regular Oklahoma Billy the Kid and train robber. The first great
+spread was that fight you had at Running Bear, that got into the Omaha
+papers in three solid columns about six months after it happened. Of
+course I knew all about it from your letters--no one had laid it to you
+then, but now everybody knows you are 'Black Mose,' and if you should be
+recognized you couldn't see Mary without doing her an awful lot of harm.
+You must be careful."
+
+"I know all that," replied Harold gloomily. "But you must arrange for me
+to see her right away, this afternoon or to-night."
+
+"I'll manage it. They know me here and I can call on her and take a
+friend, an old classmate, you see, without attracting much
+attention--but it isn't safe for you to stay here long, somebody is
+dead-sure to identify you. They've had two or three pictures of you
+going around that really looked like you, and then your father coming up
+may let the secret out. We must be careful. I'll call on Mary
+immediately after dinner and tell her you are here."
+
+"Is she married? Some way she seemed like a married woman."
+
+"No, she's not married, but the young preacher you heard this morning
+is after her, they say, and he's a mighty nice chap."
+
+There was no more laughter on the gentle, red-bearded face of young
+Burns. Had Harold glanced at him sharply at that moment, he would have
+seen a tremor in Jack's lips and a singular shadow in his eyes. His
+voice indeed did affect Harold, though he took it to be sympathetic
+sadness only.
+
+Jack brightened up suddenly. "I can't really believe it is you, Harry.
+You've grown so big and burly, and you look so old." He smiled. "I wish
+I could see some of that shooting they all tell about, but that _would_
+let the cat out."
+
+Harold could not be drawn off to discuss such matters.
+
+"Come out to the ranch and I'll show you. But how are we to meet father?
+If he is seen talking with me it may start people off----"
+
+"I'll tell you. We'll have him come up and join you on the train and go
+down to Rock River together. I don't mean for you to get off, you can
+keep right on. Now, you mustn't wear that broad hat; you wear a
+grape-box straw hat while you're here. Take mine and I'll wear a cap."
+
+He took charge of Harold's affairs with ready and tactful hand. He was
+eager to hear his story, but Harold refused to talk on any other
+subject than Mary. At dinner he sat in gloomy silence, disregarding his
+friend's pleasant, low-voiced gossip concerning old friends in Rock
+River.
+
+After Jack left the hotel Harold went to his room and took a look at
+himself in the glass. He was concerned to see of what manner of man he
+really was. He was not well-satisfied with himself; his face and hands
+were too brown and leathery, and when he thought of his failure as a
+rancher his brow darkened. He was as far from being a cattle king as
+when he wrote that boyish letter four years before, and he had sense
+enough to know that a girl of Mary's grace and charm does not lack for
+suitors. "Probably she is engaged or married," he thought. Life seemed a
+confusion and weariness at the moment.
+
+As soon as he heard Jack on the stairs he hurried to meet him.
+
+"What luck? Have you seen her?"
+
+Jack closed the door before replying, "Yes."
+
+"What did she say?"
+
+"She turned a little paler and just sat still for a minute or two. You
+know she isn't much of a talker. Then she said, 'Was he at church
+to-day?' I said 'Yes'; then she said, 'I think I saw him. I saw a
+stranger and was attracted by his face, but of course I never thought
+it could be Harold.' She was completely helpless for a while, but as I
+talked she began to see her way. She finally said, 'He has come a long
+way and I must see him. I _must_ talk with him, but people must not know
+who he is.' I told her we were going to be very careful for her sake."
+
+"That's right, we must," Harold interrupted.
+
+"She didn't seem scared about herself. 'It won't harm me,' she said,
+'but father is hard to manage when anything displeases him. We must be
+careful on Harold's account.'"
+
+Harold's throat again contracted with emotion. "She never thinks of
+herself; that's her way."
+
+"Now we've just got to walk boldly up the walk, the two of us together,
+and call on her. I'll introduce you to her father or she will; he knows
+me. We will talk about our school days while the old gentleman is
+around. He will drift away after a time, naturally. If he doesn't I'll
+take him out for a walk."
+
+This they did. Made less of a cowboy by Jack's straw hat, Harold went
+forth on a trail whose course was not well-defined in his mind, though
+now that Jack had arranged details so deftly that Mary was not in danger
+of being put to shame, his native courage and resolution came back to
+him. In the full springtide of his powerful manhood Mary's name and face
+had come at last to stand for everything worth having in the world, and
+like a bold gambler he was staking all he had on a single whirl of the
+wheel.
+
+Their meeting was so self-contained that only a close observer could
+have detected the tension. Mary was no more given to externalizing her
+emotions than he. She met him with a pale, sweet, dignified mask of
+face. She put out her hand, and said, "I am glad to see you, Mr.
+Harding," but his eyes burned down into hers with such intensity that
+she turned to escape his glance. "Father, you know Mr. Burns, and this
+is his friend, Mr. Harding, whom I used to know."
+
+Jack came gallantly to the rescue. He talked crops, politics, weather,
+church affairs, and mining. He chattered and laughed in a way which
+would have amazed Harold had he not been much preoccupied. He was
+unprepared for the change in Mary. He had carried her in his mind all
+these years as a little slip of a maiden, wrapt in expression, somber of
+mood, something half angel and half child, and always she walked in a
+gray half light, never in the sun. Now here she faced him, a dignified
+woman, with deep, serene eyes, and he could not comprehend how the pale
+girl had become the magnetic, self-contained woman. He was thrown into
+doubt and confusion, but so far from showing this he sat in absolute
+silence, gazing at her with eyes which made her shiver with emotion.
+
+Talk was purposeless and commonplace at first, a painful waiting.
+Suddenly they missed Jack and the father. They were alone and free to
+speak their most important words. Harold seized upon the opportunity
+with most disconcerting directness.
+
+"I've come for you, Mary," he said, as if he had not hitherto uttered a
+word, and his voice aroused some mysterious vibration within her bosom.
+"I'm not a cattle king; I have nothing but two horses, a couple of guns,
+and a saddle--but all the same, here I am. I got lonesome for you, and
+at last I took the back trail to find out whether you had forgot me or
+not."
+
+His pause seemed to require an answer and her lips were dry as she said
+in a low voice, "No, I did not forget, but I thought you had forgotten
+_me_."
+
+"A man don't forget such a girl as you are, Mary. You were in my mind
+all the time. Your singing did more for me than anything else. I've
+tried to keep out of trouble for your sake. I haven't succeeded very
+well as you know--but most of the stories about me are lies. I've only
+had two fights and they were both in self-defense and I don't think I
+killed anybody. I never know exactly what I'm doing when I get into a
+scrap. But I've kept out of the way of it on your account. I never go
+after a man. It's pretty hard not to shoot out there where men go on the
+rampage so often. It's easier, now than it used to be, for they are
+afraid of me."
+
+He seemed to come to a halt in that direction, and after a moment's
+pause took a new start. "I saw you at church to-day, and I saw you walk
+off with the minister, and that gave me a sudden jolt. It seemed to me
+you--liked him mighty well----"
+
+She was sitting in silence and apparent calmness, but she flushed and
+her lips set close together. It was evident that no half-explanations
+would suffice this soul of the mountain land.
+
+He arose finally and stood for an instant looking at her with piercing
+intentness. His deep excitement had forced him to physical action.
+
+"I could see he was the man for you, not me. Right there I felt like
+quitting. I went back to my hotel doing more thinking to the square
+minute than ever before in my life, I reckon. I ought to have pulled out
+for the mountains right then, but you see, I had caught a glimpse of
+you again, and I couldn't. The smell of your dress----" he paused a
+moment. "You are the finest girl God ever made and I just couldn't go
+without seeing you, at least once more."
+
+He was tense, almost rigid with the stress of his sudden passion. She
+remained silent with eyes fixed upon him, musing and somber. She was
+slower to utter emotion than he, and could not speak even when he had
+finished.
+
+He began to walk up and down just before her, his brows moodily knitted.
+"I'm not fit to ask a girl like you to marry me, I know that. I've
+served time in jail, and I'm under indictment by the courts this very
+minute in two States. I'm no good on earth but to rope cattle. I can't
+bring myself to farm or sell goods back here, and if I could you
+oughtn't to have anything to do with me--but all the same you're worth
+more to me than anything else. I don't suppose there has been an hour of
+my life since I met you first that I haven't thought of you. I dreamed
+of you--when I'm riding at night--I try to think----"
+
+He stopped abruptly and caught up her left hand. "You've got a ring on
+your finger--is that from the minister?"
+
+Her eyes fled from his and she said, "Yes."
+
+He dropped her hand. "I don't blame you any. I've made a failure of it."
+His tone was that of a bankrupt at fifty. "I don't know enough to write
+a letter--I'm only a rough, tough fool. I thought you'd be thinking of
+me just the way I was thinking of you, and there was nothing to write
+about because I wasn't getting ahead as I expected. So I kept waiting
+till something turned up to encourage me. Nothing did, and now I'm paid
+for it."
+
+His voice had a quality which made her weep. She tried to think of some
+words of comfort but could not. She was indeed too deeply concerned with
+her own contending emotions. There was marvelous appeal in this
+powerful, bronzed, undisciplined youth. His lack of tact and gallantry,
+his disconcerting directness of look and speech shook her, troubled her,
+and rendered her weak. She was but a year younger than he, and her life
+had been almost as simple exteriorly, but at center she was of far finer
+development. She had always been introspective, and she had grown
+self-analytic. She knew that the touch of this young desperado's hand
+had changed her relation toward the world. As he talked she listened
+without formulating a reply.
+
+When at last she began to speak she hesitated and her sentences were
+broken. "I am very sorry--but you see I had not heard from you for a
+long time--it would be impossible--for me to live on the plains so far
+away--even if--even if I had not promised Mr. King----"
+
+"Well, that ends it," he said harshly, and his voice brought tears
+again. "I go back to my cow punching, the only business I know. As you
+say, the cow country is no place for a girl like you. It's a mighty hard
+place for women of any kind, and you ... Besides, you're a singer, you
+can't afford to go with me. It's all a part of my luck. Things have gone
+against me from the start."
+
+He paused to get a secure hold on his voice. "Well, now, I'm going, but
+I don't want you to forget me; don't pray for me, just _sing_ for me.
+I'll hear you, and it'll help keep me out of mischief. Will you do
+that?"
+
+"Yes--if you--if it will help----"
+
+Jack's voice, unusually loud, interrupted her, and when the father
+entered, there was little outward sign of the passionate drama just
+enacted.
+
+"Won't you sing for us, Mary?" asked Jack a few minutes later.
+
+Mary looked at Harold significantly and arose to comply. Harold sat with
+head propped on his palm and eyes fixed immovably upon her face while
+she sang, If I Were a Voice. The voice was stronger, sweeter, and the
+phrasing was more mature, but it was after all the same soul singing
+through the prison gloom, straight to his heart. She charged the words
+with a special, intimate, tender meaning. She conveyed to him the
+message she dared not speak, "Be true in spite of all. My heart is sore
+for you, let me comfort you."
+
+He, on his part, realized that one who could sing like that had a wider
+mission in the world than to accompany a cowboy to the bleak plains of
+the West. To comfort him was a small part of her work in the world. It
+was her mission to go on singing solace and pleasure to thousands all
+over the nation.
+
+When she had finished he arose and offered his hand with a singular
+calmness which moved the girl more deeply than any word he had said.
+"When you sing that song, think of me, sometimes, will you?"
+
+"Yes--always," she replied.
+
+"Good-by," he said abruptly. Dropping her-hand, he went out without
+speaking another word.
+
+Jack, taking her hand in parting, found it cold and nerveless.
+
+"May I see you again before we go?" he asked.
+
+Her eyes lighted a little and her hand tightened in his. "Yes--I want to
+speak with you," she said, and ended in a whisper, "about him."
+
+Jack overtook Harold but remained silent. When they reached their room,
+Harold dropped into a chair like one exhausted by a fierce race.
+
+"This ends it, Jack, I'll never set foot in the States again; from this
+time on I keep to the mountains."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE YOUNG EAGLE DREAMS OF A MATE
+
+
+As the young men sat at supper that night a note was handed to Jack by
+the clerk. Upon opening it he found a smaller envelope addressed to "Mr.
+Harding." Harold took it, but did not open it, though it promised well,
+being quite thick with leaves. Jack read his note at a glance and passed
+it across the table. It was simple:
+
+    "DEAR MR. BURNS: Won't you please see that the inclosed note
+    reaches Harold. I wish you could persuade him to come and see me
+    once more before he goes. I shall expect to see _you_ anyhow.
+    Father does not suspect anything out of the ordinary as yet, and
+    it will be quite safe.
+
+                                    "Your friend,
+                                              "MARY YARDWELL."
+
+As soon as he decently could Harold went to his room and opened the
+important letter. In it the reticent-girl had uttered herself with
+unusual freedom. It was a long letter, and its writer must have gone to
+its composition at once after the door had closed upon her visitors. It
+began abruptly, too:
+
+    "DEAR FRIEND: My heart aches for you. From the time I first
+    saw you in the jail I have carried your face in my mind. I
+    can't quite analyze my feeling for you now. You are so
+    different from the boy I knew. I think I am a little afraid
+    of you, you scare me a little.  You are of another world, a
+    strange world of which I would like to hear. I have a woman's
+    curiosity, I can't let you go away until you tell me all your
+    story. I would like to say something on my own side
+    also. Can't you come and see me once more? My father is going
+    to be away at his farm all day to-morrow, can't you come with
+    Mr.  Burns and take dinner with me and tell me all about
+    yourself--your life is so strange.
+
+    "There will be no one there (I mean at dinner) but Mr. Burns
+    and you, and we can talk freely. Does being 'under
+    indictment' mean that you are in danger of arrest? I want to
+    understand all about that. You can't know how strange and
+    exciting all these things are to me. My life is so humdrum
+    here. You come into it like a great mountain wind. You take
+    my words away as well as my breath. I am not like most women,
+    words are not easy to me even when I write, though I write
+    better than I talk--I think.
+
+    "Mr. King asked me to be his wife some months ago, and I
+    promised to do so, but that is no reason why we should not be
+    good friends.  You have been too much in my life to go out of
+    it altogether, though I had given up seeing you again, and
+    then we always think of our friends as we last saw them, we
+    can't imagine their development. Don't you find this so? You
+    said you found me changed.
+
+    "I have little to tell you about myself. I graduated and then
+    I spent one winter in Chicago to continue my music studies. I
+    am teaching here summers to get pin money. It is so quiet
+    here one grows to think all the world very far away, and the
+    wild things among which you have lived and worked are almost
+    unimaginable even when the newspapers describe them with the
+    greatest minuteness.
+
+    "This letter is very rambling, I know, but I am writing as
+    rapidly as I can, for I want to send it to you before you
+    take the train.  Please come to see me to-morrow. To-night I
+    sing in the song service at the church. I hope you will be
+    there. The more I think about your story the more eager to
+    listen I become. There must be some basis of stirring deeds
+    for all the tales they tell of you.  My friends say I have a
+    touch of the literary poison in my veins; anyhow I like a
+    story above all things, and to hear the hero tell his own
+    adventures will be the keenest delight.
+
+    "I am sorry I could not do more to make things easier for you
+    to-day, but I come of men and women who are silent when they
+    mean most. I am never facile of speech and to-day I was
+    dumb. Perhaps if we meet on a clear understanding we will get
+    along better. Come, anyhow, and let me know you as you
+    are. Perhaps I have never really known you, perhaps I only
+    imagined you.
+
+                                    "Your friend,
+                                              "MARY YARDWELL.
+
+    "P.S. The reason for the postscript is that I have re-read
+    the foregoing letter and find it unsatisfactory in everything
+    except the expression of my wish to see you. I had meant to
+    say so much and I have said so little. I am afraid now that I
+    shall not see you at all, so I add my promise. I shall always
+    remember you and I _will_ think of you when I sing, and I
+    will sing If I Were a Voice every Sunday for you, especially
+    when I am all alone, and I'll send it out to you by thought
+    waves. You shall never fail of the best wishes of
+
+                                              "MARY YARDWELL."
+
+Not being trained in psychologic subtleties, Harold took this letter to
+mean only what it said. He was not as profoundly moved by it as he would
+have been could he have read beneath the lines the tumult he had
+produced in the tranquil life of its writer. One skilled in perception
+of a woman's moods could have detected a sense of weakness, or
+irresolution, or longing in a girl whose nature had not yet been tried
+by conflicting emotions.
+
+Jack perceived something of this when Harold gave him the letter to
+read. His admiration of Harold's grace and power, his love for every
+gesture and every lineament of his boyish hero, made it possible for him
+to understand how deeply Mary had been moved when brought face to face
+with a handsome and powerful man who loved as lions love. He handed the
+letter back with a smile: "I think you'd better stay over and see her."
+
+"I intend to," replied Harold; "wire father to come up."
+
+"Let's go walk. We may happen by the church where she sings," suggested
+Jack.
+
+It was a very beautiful hour of the day. The west was filled with cool,
+purple-gray clouds, and a fresh wind had swept away all memory of the
+heat of the day. Insects filled the air with quavering song. Children
+were romping on the lawns. Lovers sauntered by in pairs or swung under
+the trees in hammocks. Old people sat reading or listlessly talking
+beside their cottage doors. A few carriages were astir. It was a day of
+rest and peace and love-making to this busy little community. The mills
+were still and even the water seemed to run less swiftly, only the
+fishes below the dam had cause to regret the day's release from toil,
+for on every rock a fisherman was poised.
+
+The tension being a little relieved, Harold was able to listen to Jack's
+news of Rock River. His father was still preaching in the First Church,
+but several influential men had split off and were actively antagonizing
+the majority of the congregation. The fight was at its bitterest. Maud
+had now three children, and her husband was doing well in hardware. This
+old schoolmate was married, that one was dead, many had moved West.
+Bradley Talcott was running for State Legislator. Radbourn was in
+Washington.
+
+Talking on quietly the two young men walked out of the village into a
+lane bordered with Lombardy poplars. Harold threw himself down on the
+grass beneath them and said:
+
+"Now I can imagine I am back on the old farm. Tell me all about your
+folks."
+
+"Oh, they're just the same. They don't change much. Father scraped some
+money together and built a new bedroom on the west side. Mother calls it
+'the boys' room.' By 'boys' they mean you and me. They expect us to
+sleep there when you come back on a visit. They'll be terribly
+disappointed at not seeing you. Mother seems to think as much of you as
+she does of me."
+
+There was charm in the thought of the Burns' farm and Mrs. Burns coming
+and going about the big kitchen stove, the smell of wholesome cooking
+about her clothing, and for the moment the desperado's brain became as a
+child's. There was sadness in the thought that he never again could see
+his loyal friends or the old walks and lanes.
+
+Jack aroused him and they walked briskly back toward the little church
+which they found already quite filled with young people. The choir,
+including Mary, smiled at the audience and at each other, for the spirit
+of the little church was humanly cheerful.
+
+The strangers found seats in a corner pew together with a pale young man
+and a very pretty little girl. Jack was not imaginative, but he could
+not help thinking of the commotion which would follow if those around
+him should learn that "Black Mose" was at that moment seated among them.
+Mary, seeing the dark, stern face of the plainsman, had some such
+thought also. There was something gloriously unfettered, compelling, and
+powerful in his presence. He made the other young men appear commonplace
+and feeble in her eyes, and threw the minister into pale relief,
+emphasizing his serenity, his scholarship, and his security of position.
+
+Harold gave close attention to the young minister, who, as Mary's lover,
+became important. As a man of action he put a low valuation on a mere
+scholar, but King was by no means contemptible physically. Jack also
+perceived the charm of such a man to Mary, and acknowledged the good
+sense of her choice. King could give her a pleasant home among people
+she liked, while Harold could only ask her to go to the wild country, to
+a log ranch in a cottonwood gulch, there to live month after month
+without seeing a woman or a child.
+
+A bitter and desperate melancholy fell upon the plainsman. What was the
+use? Such a woman was not for him. He had only the pleasure of the wild
+country. He would go back to his horses, his guns, and the hills, and
+never again come under the disturbing influence of this beautiful
+singer. She was not of his world; her smiles were not for him. When the
+others arose in song he remained seated, his sullen face set toward the
+floor, denying himself the pleasure of even seeing Mary's face as she
+sang.
+
+Her voice arose above the chorus, guiding, directing, uplifting the less
+confident ones. When she sang she was certain of herself, powerful,
+self-contained. That night she sang with such power and sweetness that
+the minister turned and smiled upon her at the end. He spoke over the
+low railing which separated them: "You surpass yourself to-night."
+
+Looking across the heads of the audience as they began to take seats
+Harold saw this smile and action, and his face darkened again.
+
+For her solo Mary selected one which expressed in simple words the
+capabilities each humble soul had for doing good. If one could not storm
+the stars in song one could bathe a weary brow. If one could not write a
+mighty poem one could speak a word of cheer to the toiler by the way.
+
+It was all poor stuff enough, but the singer filled it with significance
+and appeal. At the moment it seemed as if such things were really worth
+doing. Each word came from her lips as though it had never been uttered
+by human lips before, so simple, so musical, so finely enunciated, so
+well valued was it. To Harold, so long separated from any approach to
+womanly art, it appealed with enormous power. He was not only
+sensitive, he was just come to the passion and impressionability of
+full-blooded young manhood. Powers converged upon him, and simple and
+direct as he was, the effects were confusion and deepest dejection. He
+heard nothing but Mary's voice, saw nothing but her radiant beauty. To
+him she was more wonderful than any words could express.
+
+At the end of the singing he refused to wait till she came down the
+aisle, but hurried out into the open air away from the crowd. As Jack
+caught up with him he said: "You go to bed; I've got to take a run out
+into the country or I can't sleep at all. Father will be up in the
+morning, I suppose. I'll get off in the six o'clock train to-morrow
+night."
+
+Jack said nothing, not even in assent, and Mose set off up the lane with
+more of mental torment than had ever been his experience before.
+Hitherto all had been simple. He loved horses, the wild things, the
+trail, the mountains, the ranch duties, and the perfect freedom of a man
+of action. Since the door of his prison opened to allow him to escape
+into the West he had encountered no doubts, had endured no remorse, and
+had felt but little fear. All that he did was forthright, manly,
+single-purposed, and unhesitating.
+
+Now all seemed changed. His horses, his guns, the joys of free spaces,
+were met by a counter allurement which was the voice of a woman. Strong
+as he was, stern as he looked, he was still a boy in certain ways, and
+this mental tumult, so new and strange to him, wearied him almost to
+tears. It was a fatigue, an ache which he could not shake off, and when
+he returned to the hotel he had settled nothing and was ready to flee
+from it all without one backward look. However, he slept soundlier than
+he thought himself capable of doing.
+
+He was awakened early by Jack: "Harry, your father is here, and very
+anxious to see you."
+
+Mose arose slowly and reluctantly. He had nothing to say to his father,
+and dreaded the interview, which he feared would be unpleasantly
+emotional. The father met him with face pale and hands trembling with
+emotion. "My son, my son!" he whispered. Mose stood silently wondering
+why his father should make so much fuss over him.
+
+Mr. Excell soon recovered his self-command, and his voice cleared. "I
+had almost given up seeing you, Harold. I recognize you with
+difficulty--you have changed much. You seem well and strong--almost as
+tall as I was at your age."
+
+"I hold my own," said Harold, and they all sat down more at ease. "I got
+into rough gangs out there, but I reckon they got as good as they
+sent."
+
+"I suppose the newspapers have greatly exaggerated about your
+conflicts?"
+
+Harold was a little disposed to shock his father. "Oh, yes, I don't
+think I really killed as many men as they tell about; I don't know that
+I killed any."
+
+"I hope you did not lightly resort to the use of deadly weapons," said
+Mr. Excell sadly.
+
+"It was kill or be killed," said Harold grimly. "It was like shooting a
+pack of howling wolves. I made up my mind to be just one shot ahead of
+anybody. There are certain counties out there where the name 'Black
+Mose' means something."
+
+"I'm sorry for that, my son. I hope you don't drink?"
+
+"Don't you worry about that. I can't afford to drink, and if I could I
+wouldn't. Oh, I take a glass of beer with the boys once in a while on a
+hot day, but it's my lay to keep sober. A drunken man is a soft mark."
+He changed the subject: "Seems to me you're a good deal grayer."
+
+Mr. Excell ran his fingers through the tumbled heap of his grizzled
+hair. "Yes; things are troubling me a little. The McPhails are fighting
+me in the church, and intend to throw me out and ruin me if they can,
+but I shall fight them till the bitter end. I am not to be whipped out
+like a dog."
+
+"That's the talk! Don't let 'em run you out. I got run out of Cheyenne,
+but I'll never run again. I was only a kid then. After you throw 'em
+down, come out West and round up the cowboys. They won't play any
+underhanded games on you, and mebbe you can do them some
+good--especially on gambling. They are sure enough idiots about cards."
+
+They went down to breakfast together, but did not sit together.
+
+Jack and Harold talked in low voices about Mr. Excell.
+
+"The old man looks pretty well run down, don't he?" said Harold.
+
+"He worries a whole lot about you."
+
+"He needn't to. When does he go back?"
+
+"He wants to stay all day--just as long as he can."
+
+"He'd better pull right out on that ten o'clock train. His being here is
+sure to give me away sooner or later."
+
+It was hard for the father to say good-by. He had a feeling that it was
+the last time he should ever see him, and his face was gray with
+suffering as he faced his son for the last time. Harold became not
+merely unresponsive, he grew harsher of voice each moment. His father's
+tremulous and repeated words seemed to him foolish and absurd--and also
+inconsiderate. After he was gone he burst out in wrath.
+
+"Why can't he act like a man? I don't want anybody to snivel over me.
+Suppose I _am_ to be shot this fall, what of it?"
+
+This disgust and bitterness prepared him, strange to say, for his call
+upon Mary. He entered the house, master of himself and the situation.
+His nerves were like steel, and his stern face did not quiver in its
+minutest muscle, though she met him in most gracious mood, dressed as
+for conquest and very beautiful.
+
+"I'm so glad you stayed over," she said. "I have been so eager to hear
+all about your life out there." She led the way to the little parlor
+once more and drew a chair near him.
+
+"Well," he began, "it isn't exactly the kind of life your Mr. King
+leads."
+
+There was a vengeful sneer in his voice which Mary felt as if he had
+struck her, but she said gently:
+
+"I suppose our life does seem very tame to you now."
+
+"It's sure death. I couldn't stand it for a year; I'd rot."
+
+Mary was aware that some sinister change had come over him, and she
+paused to study him keenly. The tremulous quality of his voice and
+action had passed away. He was hard, stern, self-contained, and she
+(without being a coquette) determined that his mood should give way to
+hers. He set himself hard against the charm of her lovely presence and
+the dainty room. Mary ceased to smile, but her brows remained level.
+
+"You men seem to think that all women are fond only of the quiet things,
+but it isn't true. We like the big deeds in the open air, too. I'd like
+to see a cattle ranch and take a look at a 'round-up,' though I don't
+know exactly what that means."
+
+"Well, we're not on the round-up all the time," he said, relaxing a
+little. "It's pretty quiet part of the time; that is, quiet for our
+country. But then, you're always on a horse and you're out in the air on
+the plains with the mountains in sight. There's a lot of hard work about
+it, too, and it's lonesome sometimes when your're ridin' the lines, but
+I like it. When it gets a little too tame for me I hit the trail for the
+mountains with an Indian. The Ogallalahs are my friends, and I'm going
+to spend the winter with them and then go into the West Elk country. I'm
+due to kill a grizzly this year and some mountain sheep." He was started
+now, and Mary had only to listen. "Before I stop, I'm going to know all
+there is to know of the Rocky Mountains. With ol' Kintuck and my
+Winchester I'm goin' to hit the sunset trail and hit it hard. There's
+nothing to keep me now," he said with a sudden glance at her. "It don't
+matter where I turn up or pitch camp. I reckon I'd better not try to be
+a cattle king." He smiled bitterly and pitilessly at the poor figure he
+cut. "I reckon I'm a kind of a mounted hobo from this on."
+
+"But your father and sister----"
+
+"Oh, she isn't worryin' any about me; I haven't had a letter from her
+for two years. All I've got now is Jack, and he'd be no earthly good on
+the trail. He'd sure lose his glasses in a fight, and then he couldn't
+tell a grizzly from a two-year-old cow. So you see, there's nothing to
+hinder me from going anywhere. I'm footloose. I want to spend one summer
+in the Flat Top country. Ute Jim tells me it's fine. Then I want to go
+into the Wind River Mountains for elk. Old Talfeather, chief of the
+Ogallalahs, has promised to take me into the Big Horn Range. After that
+I'm going down into the southwest, down through the Uncompagre country.
+Reynolds says they're the biggest yet, and I'm going to keep right down
+into the Navajo reservation. I've got a bid from old Silver Arrow, and
+then I'm going to Walpi and see the Mokis dance. They say they carry
+live rattlesnakes in their mouths. I don't believe it: I'm going to see.
+Then I swing 'round to the Grand Cañon of the Colorado. They say that's
+the sorriest gash in the ground that ever happened. Reynolds gave me a
+letter to old Hance; he's the man that watches to see that no one
+carries the hole away. Then I'm going to take a turn over the Mohave
+desert into Southern California. I'm due at the Yosemite Valley about a
+year from next fall. I'll come back over the divide by way of Salt
+Lake."
+
+He was on his feet, and his eyes were glowing. He seemed to have
+forgotten all women in the sweep of his imaginative journey.
+
+"Oh, that will be grand! How will you do it?"
+
+"On old Kintuck, if his legs don't wear off."
+
+"How will you live?"
+
+"Forage where I can. Turn to and help on a 'round-up,' or 'drive' where
+I can--shoot and fish--oh, I'll make it if it takes ten years."
+
+"Then what?" Mary asked, with a curious intonation.
+
+"Then I'll start for the Northwest," he replied after a little
+hesitation--"if I live. Of course the chances are I'll turn up my toes
+somewhere on the trail. A man is liable to make a miss-lick somewhere,
+but that's all in the game. A man had better die on the trail than in a
+dead furrow."
+
+Mary looked at him with dreaming eyes. His strange moods filled her with
+new and powerful emotions. The charm of the wild life he depicted
+appealed to her as well as to him. It was all a fearsome venture, but
+after all it was glorious. The placid round of her own life seemed for
+the moment intolerably commonplace. There was epic largeness in the
+circuit of the plainsman's daring plans. The wonders of Nature which he
+catalogued loomed large in the misty knowledge she held of the West. She
+cried out:
+
+"Oh, I wish I could see those wonderful scenes!"
+
+He turned swiftly: "You can; I'll take you."
+
+She shrank back. "Oh, no! I didn't mean that--I meant--some time----"
+
+His face darkened. "In a sleeping car, I reckon. That time'll never
+come."
+
+Then a silence fell on them. Harold knew that his plans could not be
+carried out with a woman for companion--and he had sense enough to know
+that Mary's words were born of a momentary enthusiasm. When he spoke it
+was with characteristic blunt honesty.
+
+"No; right here our trails fork, Mary. Ever since I saw you in the jail
+the first time, you've been worth more to me than anything else in the
+world, but I can see now that things never can go right with you and me.
+I couldn't live back here, and you couldn't live with me out there. I'm
+a kind of an outlaw, anyway. I made up my mind last night that I'd hit
+the trail alone. I won't even ask Jack to go with me. There's something
+in me here"--he laid his hand on his breast--"that kind o' chimes in
+with the wind in the piñons and the yap of the ky-ote. The rooster and
+the church bells are too tame for me. That's all there is about it.
+Maybe when I get old and feeble in the knees I'll feel like pitchin' a
+permanent camp, but just now I don't; I want to be on the move. If I had
+a nice ranch, and you, I might settle down now, but then you couldn't
+stand even a ranch with nearest neighbors ten miles away." He turned to
+take his hat. "I wanted to see you--I didn't plan for anything
+else--I've seen you and so----"
+
+"Oh, you're not going now!" she cried. "You haven't told me your story."
+
+"Oh, yes, I have; all that you'd care to hear. It don't amount to much,
+except the murder charges, and they are wrong. It wasn't my fault. They
+crowded me too hard, and I had to defend myself. What is a man to do
+when it's kill or be killed? That's all over and past, anyway. From this
+time on I camp high. The roosters and church bells are getting too thick
+on the Arickaree."
+
+He crushed his hat in his hand as he turned to her, and tears were in
+her eyes as she said:
+
+"Please don't go; I expected you to stay to dinner with me."
+
+"The quicker I get out o' here the better," he replied hoarsely, and she
+saw that he was trembling. "What's the good of it? I'm out of it."
+
+She looked up at him in silence, her mind filled with the confused
+struggle between her passion and her reason. He allured her, this grave
+and stern outlaw, appealing to some primitive longing within her.
+
+"I hate to see you go," she said slowly. "But--I--suppose it is best. I
+don't like to have you forget me--I shall not forget you, and I will
+sing for you every Sunday afternoon, and no matter where you are, in a
+deep cañon, or anywhere, or among the Indians, you just stop and listen
+and think of me, and maybe you'll hear my voice."
+
+Tears were in her eyes as she spoke, and he took a man's advantage of
+her emotion.
+
+"Perhaps if I come back--if I make a strike somewhere--if you'd say
+so----"
+
+She shook her head sadly but conclusively. "No, no, I can't promise
+anything."
+
+"All right--that settles it. Good-by."
+
+And she had nothing better to say than just "Good-by, good-by."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE YOUNG EAGLE RETURNS TO HIS EYRIE
+
+
+It was good to face the West again. The wild heart of the youth flung
+off all doubt, all regret. Not for him were the quiet joys of village
+life. No lane or street could measure his flight. His were the gleaming,
+immeasurable walls of the Sangre de Cristo range, his the grassy
+mountain parks and the silent cañons, and the peaks. "To hell with the
+East, and all it owns," was his mood, and in that mood he renounced all
+claim to Mary.
+
+He sat with meditative head against the windowpane, listless as a caged
+and sullen eagle, but his soul was far ahead, swooping above the swells
+that cut into the murky sky. His eyes studied every rod of soil as he
+retraced his way up that great wind-swept slope, noting every change in
+vegetation or settlement. Five years before he had crept like a lizard;
+now he was rushing straight on like the homing eagle who sees his home
+crag gleam in the setting sun.
+
+The cactus looked up at him with spiney face. The first prairie dog
+sitting erect uttered a greeting to which he smiled. The first mirage
+filled his heart with a rush of memories of wild rides, and the grease
+wood recalled a hundred odorous camp fires. He was getting home.
+
+The people at the stations grew more unkempt, untamed. The broad hats
+and long mustaches of the men proclaimed the cow country at last. It
+seemed as though he might at any moment recognize some of them. At a
+certain risk to himself he got off the train at one or two points to
+talk with the boys. As it grew dark he took advantage of every wait to
+stretch his legs and enjoy the fresh air, so different in its clarity
+and crisp dryness from the leaf-burdened, mist-filled atmosphere of
+Marmion. He lifted his eyes to the West with longing too great for
+words, eager to see the great peaks peer above the plain's rim.
+
+The night was far spent when the brakeman called the name of the little
+town in which he had left his outfit, and he rose up stiff and sore from
+his cramped position.
+
+Kintuck, restless from long confinement in a stall, chuckled with joy
+when his master entered and called to him. It was still dark, but that
+mattered little to such as Mose. He flung the saddle on and cinched it
+tight. He rolled his extra clothes in his blanket and tied it behind
+his saddle, and then, with one hand on his pommel, he said to the
+hostler, moved by a bitter recklessness of mind:
+
+"Well, that squares us, stranger. If anybody asks you which-a-way 'Black
+Mose' rode jist say ye didn't notice." A leap, a rush of hoofs, and the
+darkness had eaten both horse and man.
+
+It was a long ride, and as he rode the dawn came over the plains, swift,
+silent, majestic with color. His blood warmed in his limbs and his head
+lifted. He was at home in the wild once more, all ties were cut between
+him and the East. Mary was not for him. Maud had grown indifferent, Jack
+would never come West, and Mr. and Mrs. Burns were merely cheery
+memories. There was nothing now to look backward upon--nothing to check
+his career as hunter and explorer. All that he had done up to this
+moment was but careful preparation for great journeys. He resolved to
+fling himself into unknown trails--to know the mountains as no other man
+knew them.
+
+Again he rode down into the valley of the Arickaree, and as the boys
+came rolling out with cordial shouts of welcome, his eyes smarted a
+little. He slipped from his horse and shook hands all around, and ended
+by snatching Pink and pressing her soft cheek against his
+lips--something he had never done before.
+
+They bustled to get his breakfast, while Reynolds took care of Kintuck.
+Cora, blushing prettily as she set the table for him, said: "We're
+mighty glad to see you back, Mose. Daddy said you'd never turn up again,
+but I held out you would."
+
+"Oh, I couldn't stay away from Kintuck and little Pink," he replied.
+
+"How'd they feed ye back there?" inquired Mrs. Reynolds.
+
+"Oh, fair to middlin'--but, of course, they couldn't cook like Ma
+Reynolds."
+
+"Oh, you go hark!" cried Mrs. Reynolds, vastly delighted. "They've got
+so much more to do with."
+
+It was good to sit there in the familiar kitchen and watch these simple,
+hearty women working with joy to feed him. His heart was very tender,
+and he answered most of their questions with unusual spirit, fending
+off, however, any reference to old sweethearts. His talk was all of
+absorbing interest to the women. They were hungry to know how people
+were living and dressing back there. It was so sweet and fine to be able
+to return to the East--and Mrs. Reynolds hoped to do so before she died.
+Cora drew from Mose the information that the lawns were beautifully
+green in Marmion, and that all kinds of flowers were in blossom, and
+that the birds were singing in the maples. Even his meagre descriptions
+brought back to the girl the green freshness of June.
+
+"Oh, I'm so tired of these bare hills," she said wistfully. "I wish I
+could go East again, back to our old home in Missouri."
+
+"I wish now I'd stayed here and sent you," said Mose.
+
+She turned in surprise. "Why so, Mose?"
+
+"Because I had so little fun out of it, while to you it would have been
+a picnic."
+
+"You're mighty good, Mose," was all she said in reply, but her eyes
+lingered upon his face, which seemed handsomer than ever before, for it
+was softened by his love, his good friends, and the cheerful home.
+
+In the days that followed Cora took on new youth and beauty. Her head
+lifted, and the swell of her bosom had more of pride and grace than ever
+before in her life. She no longer shrank from the gaze of men, even of
+strangers, for Mose seemed her lover and protector. Before his visit to
+the East she had doubted, but now she let her starved heart feed on
+dreams of him.
+
+Mose had little time to give to her, for (at his own request) Reynolds
+was making the highest use of his power. "I want to earn every cent I
+can for the next three months," Mose explained, and he often did double
+duty. He was very expert now with the rope and could throw and tie a
+steer with the best of the men. His muscles seemed never to tire nor his
+nerves to fail him. Rain, all-night rides, sleeping on the ground
+beneath frosty blankets, nothing seemed to trouble him. He was never
+cheery, but he was never sullen.
+
+One day in November he rode up to the home ranch leading a mule with a
+pack saddle fully rigged.
+
+"What are you doing with that mule?" asked Reynolds as he came out of
+the house, followed by Pink.
+
+"I'm going to pack him."
+
+"Pack him? What do you mean?"
+
+"I'm going to hit 'the long trail.'"
+
+Cora came hurrying forward. "Good evening, Mose."
+
+"Good evening, Cory. How's my little Pink?"
+
+"What did you say about hittin' the trail, Mose?"
+
+"Now I reckon you'll give an account of yourself," said Reynolds with a
+wink.
+
+Mose was anxious to avoid an emotional moment; he cautiously replied:
+"Oh, I'm off on a little hunting excursion; don't get excited about it.
+I'm hungry as a coyote; can I eat?"
+
+Cora was silenced but not convinced, and after supper, when the old
+people withdrew from the kitchen, she returned to the subject again.
+
+"How long are you going to be gone this time?"
+
+Mose saw the storm coming, but would not lie to avoid it.
+
+"I don't know; mebbe all winter."
+
+She dropped into a chair facing him, white and still. When she spoke her
+voice was a wail. "O Mose! I can't live here all winter without you."
+
+"Oh, yes, you can; you've got Pink and the old folks."
+
+"But I want _you_! I'll die here without you, Mose. I can't endure it."
+
+His face darkened. "You'd better forget me; I'm a hoodoo, Cory; nobody
+is ever in luck when I'm around. I make everybody miserable."
+
+"I was never really happy till you come," she softly replied.
+
+"There are a lot of better men than I am jest a-hone'in to marry you,"
+he interrupted her to say.
+
+"I don't want them--I don't want anybody but you, and now you go off and
+leave me----"
+
+The situation was beyond any subtlety of the man, and he sat in silence
+while she wept. When he could command himself he said:
+
+"I'm mighty sorry, Cory, but I reckon the best way out of it is to just
+take myself off in the hills where I can't interfere with any one's fun
+but my own. Seems to me I'm fated to make trouble all along the line,
+and I'm going to pull out where there's nobody but wolves and grizzlies,
+and fight it out with them."
+
+She was filled with a new terror: "What do you mean? I don't believe you
+intend to come back at all!" She looked at him piteously, the tears on
+her cheeks.
+
+"Oh, yes, I'll round the circle some time."
+
+She flung herself down on the chair arm and sobbed unrestrainedly.
+"Don't go--please!"
+
+Mose felt a sudden touch of the same disgust which came upon him in the
+presence of his father's enforcing affection. He arose. "Now, Cory, see
+here; don't you waste any time on me. I'm no good under the sun. I like
+you and I like Pinkie, but I don't want you to cry over me. I ain't
+worth it. Now that's the God's truth. I'm a black hoodoo, and you'll
+never prosper till I skip; I'm not fit to marry any woman."
+
+Singularly enough, this gave the girl almost instant comfort, and she
+lifted her head and dried her eyes, and before he left she smiled a
+little, though her face was haggard and tear stained.
+
+Mose was up early and had his packs ready and Kintuck saddled when Mrs.
+Reynolds called him to breakfast. Cora's pale face and piteous eyes
+moved him more deeply than her sobbing the night before, but there was a
+certain inexorable fixedness in his resolution, and he did not falter.
+At bottom the deciding cause was Mary. She had passed out of his life,
+but no other woman could take her place--therefore he was ready to cut
+loose from all things feminine.
+
+"Well, Mose, I'm sorry to see you go, I certainly am so," said Reynolds.
+"_But_, you ah you' own master. All I can say is, this old ranch is
+open to you, and shall be so long as we stay hyer--though I am mighty
+uncertain how long we shall be able to hold out agin this new land-boom.
+You had better not stay away too long, or you may miss us. I reckon we
+ah all to be driven to the mountains very soon."
+
+"I may be back in the spring. I'm likely to need money, and be obliged
+to come back to you for a job."
+
+On this tiny crumb of comfort Cora's hungry heart seized greedily. The
+little pink-cheeked one helped out the sad meal. She knew nothing of the
+long trail upon which her hero was about to set foot, and took
+possession of the conversation by telling of a little antelope which
+one of the cowboys had brought her.
+
+The mule was packed and Mose was about to say good-by. The sun was still
+low in the eastern sky. Frost was on the grass, but the air was crisp
+and pleasant. All the family stood beside him as he packed his outfit on
+the mule and threw over it the diamond hitch. As he straightened up he
+turned to the waiting ones and said: "Do you see that gap in the range?"
+
+They all looked where he pointed. Down in the West, but lighted into
+unearthly splendor by the morning light, arose the great range of snowy
+peaks. In the midst of this impassable wall a purple notch could be
+seen.
+
+"Ever sence I've been here," said Mose, with singular emotion, "I've
+looked away at that range and I've been waiting my chance to see what
+that cañon is like. There runs my trail--good-by."
+
+He shook hands hastily with Cora, heartily with Mrs. Reynolds, and
+kissed Pink, who said: "Bring me a little bear or a fox."
+
+"All right, honey, you shall have a grizzly."
+
+He swung into the saddle. "Here I hit the trail for yon blue notch and
+the land where the sun goes down. So long."
+
+"Take care o' yourself, boy."
+
+"Come back soon," called Cora, and covered her face with her shawl in a
+world-old gesture of grief.
+
+In the days that followed she thought of him as she saw him last, a
+minute fleck on the plain. She thought of him when the rains fell, and
+prayed that he might not fall ill of fever or be whelmed by a stream. He
+seemed so little and weak when measured against that mighty and
+merciless wall of snow. Then when the cold white storms came and the
+plain was hid in the fury of wind and sleet, she shuddered and thought
+of him camped beside a rock, cold and hungry. She thought of him lying
+with a broken leg, helpless, while his faithful beasts pawed the ground
+and whinnied their distress. She spoke of these things once or twice,
+but her father merely smiled.
+
+"Mose can take care of himself, daughter, don't you worry."
+
+Months passed before they had a letter from him, and when it came it
+bore the postmark of Durango.
+
+    "DEAR FRIENDS: I should a-written before, but the fact is I
+    hate to write and then I've been on the move all the time. I
+    struck through the gap and angled down to Taos, a Pueblo
+    Indian town, where I stayed for a while--then went on down
+    the Valley to Sante Fee.  Then I hunted up Delmar. He was
+    glad to see me, but he looks old. He had a hell of a time
+    after I left. It wasn't the way the papers had it--but he won
+    out all right. He sold his sheep and quit. He said he got
+    tired of shooting men. I stayed with him--he's got a nice
+    family--two girls--and then I struck out into the Pueblo
+    country.  These little brown chaps interest me but they're a
+    different breed o' cats from the Ogallalahs. Everybody talks
+    about the Snake Dance at Moki, so I'm angling out that
+    way. I'm going to do a little cow punchin' for a man in
+    Apache County and go on to the Dance. I'm going through the
+    Navajoe reservation. I stand in with them. They've heard of
+    me some way--through the Utes I reckon."
+
+The accounts of the Snake Dance contained mention of "Black Mose," who
+kept a band of toughs from interfering with the dance. His wonderful
+marksmanship was spoken of. He did not write till he reached Flagstaff.
+His letter was very brief. "I'm going into the Grand Cañon for a few
+days, then I go to work on a ranch south of here for the winter. In the
+spring I'm going over the range into California."
+
+When they heard of him next he was deputy marshal of a mining town, and
+the Denver papers contained long despatches about his work in clearing
+the town of desperadoes. After that they lost track of him
+altogether--but Cora never gave him up. "He'll round the big circle one
+o' these days--and when he does he'll find us all waiting, won't he,
+pet?" and she drew little Pink close to her hungry heart.
+
+
+
+
+PART III
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE EAGLE COMPLETES HIS CIRCLE
+
+
+All days were Sunday in the great mining camp of Wagon Wheel, so far as
+legal enactment ran, but on Saturday night, in following ancient habit,
+the men came out of their prospect holes on the high, grassy hills, or
+threw down the pick in their "overland tunnels," or deep shafts and
+rabbitlike burrows, and came to camp to buy provisions, to get their
+mail, and to look upon, if not to share, the vice and tumult of the
+town.
+
+The streets were filled from curb to curb with thousands of men in
+mud-stained coats and stout-laced boots. They stood in the gutters and
+in the middle of the street to talk (in subdued voices) of their claims.
+There was little noise. The slowly-moving streams of shoppers or
+amusement seekers gave out no sudden shouting. A deep murmur filled the
+air, but no angry curse was heard, no whooping. In a land where the
+revolver is readier than the fist men are wary of quarrel, careful of
+abuse, and studiously regardful of others.
+
+There were those who sought vice, and it was easily found. The saloons
+were packed with thirsty souls, and from every third door issued the
+click of dice and whiz of whirling balls in games of chance.
+
+Every hotel barroom swarmed with persuasive salesmen bearing lumps of
+ore with which to entice unwary capital. All the talk was of
+"pay-streaks," "leads," "float," "whins," and "up-raises," while in the
+midst of it, battling to save souls, the zealous Salvation Army band
+paraded to and fro with frenzied beating of drums. Around and through
+all this, listening with confused ears, gazing with wide, solemn eyes,
+were hundreds of young men from the middle East, farmers' sons, cowboys,
+mountaineers, and miners. To them it was an awesome city, this lurid
+camp, a wonder and an allurement to dissipation.
+
+To Mose, fresh from the long trail, it was irritating and wearying. He
+stood at the door of a saloon, superbly unconscious of his physical
+beauty, a somber dream in his eyes, a statuesque quality in his pose. He
+wore the wide hat of the West, but his neat, dark coat, though badly
+wrinkled, was well cut, and his crimson tie and dark blue shirt were
+handsomely decorative. His face was older, sterner, and sadder than
+when he faced Mary three years before. No trace of boyhood was in his
+manner. Seven years of life on the long trail and among the mountain
+peaks had taught him silence, self-restraint, and had also deepened his
+native melancholy. He had ridden into Wagon Wheel from the West, eager
+to see the great mining camp whose fame had filled the world.
+
+As he stood so, with the light of the setting sun in his face, the
+melancholy of a tiger in his eyes, a woman in an open barouche rode by.
+Her roving glance lighted upon his figure and rested there. "Wait!" she
+called to her driver, and from the shadow of her silken parasol she
+studied the young man's absorbed and motionless figure. He on his part
+perceived only a handsomely dressed woman looking out over the crowd.
+The carriage interested him more than the woman. It was a magnificent
+vehicle, the finest he had ever seen, and he wondered how it happened to
+be there on the mountain top.
+
+A small man with a large head stepped from the crowd and greeted the
+woman with a military salute. In answer to a question, the small man
+turned and glanced toward Mose. The woman bowed and drove on, and Mose
+walked slowly up the street, lonely and irresolute. At the door of a
+gambling house he halted and looked in. A young lad and an old man were
+seated together at a roulette table, and around them a ring of excited
+and amused spectators stood. Mose entered and took a place in the
+circle. The boy wore a look of excitement quite painful to see, and he
+placed his red and white chips with nervous, blundering, and ineffectual
+gestures, whereas the older man smiled benignly over his glasses and
+placed his single dollar chip each time with humorous decision. Each
+time he won. "This is for a new hat," he said, and the next time, "This
+is for a box at the theater." The boy, with his gains in the circle of
+his left arm, was desperately absorbed. No smile, no jest was possible
+to him.
+
+Mose felt a hand on his shoulder, and turning, found himself face to
+face with the small man who had touched his hat to the woman in the
+carriage. The stranger's countenance was stern in its outlines, and his
+military cut of beard added to his grimness, but his eyes were
+surrounded by fine lines of good humour.
+
+"Stranger, I'd like a word with you."
+
+Mose followed him to a corner, supposing him to be a man with mines to
+sell, or possibly a confidence man.
+
+"Stranger, where you from?"
+
+"From the Snake country," replied Mose.
+
+"What's your little game here?"
+
+Mose was angered at his tone. "None of your business."
+
+The older man flushed, and the laugh went out of his eyes. "I'll make it
+my business," he said grimly. "I've seen you somewhere before, but I
+can't place you. You want to get out o' town to-night; you're here for
+no man's good--you've got a 'graft.'"
+
+Mose struck him with the flat of his left hand, and, swift as a
+rattlesnake's stroke, covered him with his revolver. "Wait right where
+you are," he said, and the man became rigid. "I came here as peaceable
+as any man," Mose went on, "but I don't intend to be ridden out of town
+by a jackass like you."
+
+The other man remained calm. "If you'll kindly let me unbutton my coat,
+I'll show you my star; I'm the city marshal."
+
+"Be quiet," commanded Mose; "put up your hands!"
+
+Mose was aware of an outcry, then a silence, then a rush.
+
+From beneath his coat, quick as a flash of light from a mirror, he drew
+a second revolver. His eyes flashed around the room. For a moment all
+was silent, then a voice called, "What's all this, Haney?"
+
+"Keep them quiet," said Mose, still menacing the officer.
+
+"Boys, keep back," pleaded the marshal.
+
+"The man that starts this ball rolling will be sorry," said Mose,
+searching the crowd with sinister eyes. "If you're the marshal, order
+these men back to the other end of the room."
+
+"Boys, get back," commanded the marshal. With shuffling feet the crowd
+retreated. "Shut the door, somebody, and keep the crowd out."
+
+The doors were shut, and the room became as silent as a tomb.
+
+"Now," said Mose, "is it war or peace?"
+
+"Peace," said the marshal.
+
+"All right." Mose dropped the point of his revolver.
+
+The marshal breathed easier. "Stranger, you're a little the swiftest man
+I've met since harvest; would you mind telling me your name?"
+
+"Not a bit. My friends call me Mose Harding."
+
+"'Black Mose'!" exclaimed the marshal, and a mutter of low words and a
+laugh broke from the listening crowd. Haney reached out his hand. "I
+hope you won't lay it up against me." Mose shook his hand and the
+marshal went on: "To tell the honest truth, I thought you were one of
+Lightfoot's gang. I couldn't place you. Of course I see now--I have your
+picture at the office--the drinks are on me." He turned with a smile to
+the crowd: "Come, boys--irrigate and get done with it. It's a horse on
+me, sure."
+
+Taking the mildest liquor at the bar, Mose drank to further friendly
+relations, while the marshal continued to apologize. "You see, we've
+been overrun with 'rollers' and 'skin-game' men, and lately three
+expresses have been held up by Lightfoot's gang, and so I've been facing
+up every suspicious immigrant. I've had to do it--in your case I was too
+brash--I'll admit that--but come, let's get away from the mob. Come over
+to my office, I want to talk with you."
+
+Mose was glad to escape the curious eyes of the throng. While his life
+was in the balance, he saw and heard everything hostile, nothing
+more--now, he perceived the crowd to be disgustingly inquisitive. Their
+winks, and grins, and muttered words annoyed him.
+
+"Open the door--much obliged, Kelly," said the marshal to the man who
+kept the door. Kelly was a powerfully built man, dressed like a miner,
+in broad hat, loose gray shirt, and laced boots, and Mose admiringly
+studied him.
+
+"This is not 'Rocky Mountain Kelly'?" he asked.
+
+Kelly smiled. "The same; 'Old Man Kelly' they call me now."
+
+Mose put out his hand. "I'm glad to know ye. I've heard Tom Gavin speak
+of you."
+
+Kelly shook heartily. "Oh! do ye know Tom? He's a rare lump of a b'y, is
+Tom. We've seen great times together on the plains and on the hills.
+It's all gone now. It's tame as a garden since the buffalo went; they've
+made it another world, b'y."
+
+"Come along, Kelly, and we'll have it out at my office."
+
+As the three went out into the street they confronted a close-packed
+throng. The word had passed along that the marshal was being "done," and
+now, singularly silent, the miners waited the opening of the door.
+
+The marshal called from the doorstep: "It's all right. Don't block the
+street. Break away, boys, break away." The crowd opened to let them
+pass, fixing curious eyes upon Mose.
+
+As the three men crossed the street the woman in the carriage came
+driving slowly along. Kelly and the marshal saluted gallantly, but Mose
+did not even bow.
+
+She leaned from her carriage and called:
+
+"What's that I hear, marshal, about your getting shot?"
+
+"All a mistake, Madam. I thought I recognized this young man and was
+politely ordering him out of town when he pulled his gun and nailed me
+to the cross."
+
+The woman turned a smiling face toward Mose. "He must be a wonder.
+Introduce me, please."
+
+"Certain sure! This is Mrs. Raimon, Mose; 'Princess Raimon,' this is my
+friend, Mose Harding, otherwise known as 'Black Mose.'"
+
+"Black Mose!" she cried; "are _you_ that terrible man?"
+
+She reached out her little gloved hand, and as Mose took it her eyes
+searched his face. "I think we are going to be friends." Her voice was
+affectedly musical as she added: "Come and see me, won't you?"
+
+She did not wait for his reply, but drove on with a sudden assumption of
+reserve which became her very well.
+
+The three men walked on in silence. At last, with a curious look at
+Kelly, the marshal said, "Young man, you're in luck. Anything you want
+in town is yours now. How about it, Kelly?"
+
+"That's the thrue word of it."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Mose.
+
+"Just this--what the princess asks for she generally gets. She's taken a
+fancy to you, and if you're keen as I think you are, you'll call on her
+without much delay."
+
+"Who is she? How does she happen to be here?"
+
+"She came out here with her husband--and stays for love of men and
+mines, I reckon. Anyhow, she always has a man hangin' on, and has
+managed to secure some of the best mines in the camp. She works 'em,
+too. She's a pretty high roller, as they call 'em back in the States,
+but she helps the poor, and pays her debts like a man, and it's no call
+o' mine to pass judgment on her."
+
+The marshal's office was an old log shanty, one of the first to be built
+on the trail, and passing through the big front room in which two or
+three men were lounging, the marshal led his guests to his inner office
+and sleeping room. A fire was blazing in a big stone fireplace. Skins
+and dingy blankets were scattered about, and on the mantle stood a
+bottle and some dirty glasses.
+
+"Sit down, gentlemen," said the marshal, "and have some liquor."
+
+After they were served and cigars lighted, the marshal began:
+
+"Mose, I want you to serve as my deputy."
+
+Mose was taken by surprise and did not speak for a few moments. The
+marshal went on:
+
+"I don't know that you're after a job, but I'm sure I need you. There's
+no use hemming and hawing--I've made a cussed fool of myself this
+evenin', and the boys are just about going to drink up my salary for me
+this coming week. I can't afford _not_ to have you my deputy because you
+unlimbered your gun a grain of a second before me--beat me at my own
+trick. I need you--now what do you say?"
+
+Mose took time to reply. "I sure need a job for the winter," he
+admitted, "but I don't believe I want to do this."
+
+The marshal urged him to accept. "I'll call in the newspaper men and let
+them tell the whole story of your life, and of our little jamboree
+to-day--they'll fix up a yarn that'll paralyze the hold-up gang.
+Together we'll swoop down on the town. I've been planning a clean-out
+for some weeks, and I need you to help me turn 'em loose."
+
+Mose arose. "I guess not; I'm trying to keep clear of gun-play these
+days. I've never hunted that kind of thing, and I won't start in on a
+game that's sure to give me trouble."
+
+The marshal argued. "Set down; listen; that's the point exactly. The
+minute the boys know who you are we won't _need_ to shoot. That's the
+reason I want you--the reporters will prepare the way. Wherever we go
+the 'bad men' will scatter."
+
+But Mose was inexorable. "No, I can't do it. I took just such a job
+once--I don't want another."
+
+Haney was deeply disappointed, but shook hands pleasantly. "Well,
+good-night; drop in any time."
+
+Mose went out into the street once more. He was hungry, and so turned in
+at the principal hotel in the city for a "good square meal." An Italian
+playing the violin and his boy accompanying him on the harp, made up a
+little orchestra. Some palms in pots, six mirrors set between the
+windows, together with tall, very new, oak chairs gave the dining room a
+magnificence which abashed the bold heart of the trailer for a moment.
+
+However, his was not a nature to show timidity, and taking a seat he
+calmly spread his damp napkin on his knee and gave his order to the
+colored waiter (the Palace Hotel had the only two colored waiters in
+Wagon Wheel) with such grace as he could command after long years upon
+the trail.
+
+As he lifted his eyes he became aware of "the princess" seated at
+another table and facing him. She seemed older than when he saw her in
+the carriage. Her face was high-colored, and her hair a red-brown. Her
+eyes were half closed, and her mouth drooped at the corners. Her chin,
+supported on her left hand, glittering with jewels, was pushed forward
+aggressively, and she listened with indifference to the talk of her
+companion, a dark, smooth-featured man, with a bitter and menacing
+smile.
+
+Mose was oppressed by her glance. She seemed to be looking at him from
+the shadow as a tigress might glare from her den, and he ate awkwardly,
+and his food tasted dry and bitter. Ultimately he became angry. Why
+should this woman, or any woman, stare at him like that? He would have
+understood her better had she smiled at him--he was not without
+experience of that sort, but this unwavering glance puzzled and annoyed
+him.
+
+Putting her companion aside with a single gesture, the princess arose
+and came over to Mose's table and reached her hand to him. She smiled
+radiantly of a sudden, and said, "How do you do, Mr. Harding; I didn't
+recognize you at first."
+
+Mose took her hand but did not invite her to join him. However, she
+needed no invitation, and taking a seat opposite, leaned her elbows on
+the table and looked at him with eyes more inscrutable than
+ever--despite their nearness. They were a mottled yellow and brown, he
+noticed, unusual and interesting eyes, but by contrast with the clear
+deeps of Mary's eyes they seemed like those of some beautiful wild
+beast. He could not penetrate a thousandth part of a hair line beyond
+the exterior shine of her glance. The woman's soul was in the
+unfathomable shadow beneath.
+
+"I know all about you," she said. "I read a long article about you in
+the papers some months ago. You stood off a lot of bogus game wardens
+who were going to butcher some Shoshonees. I liked that. The article
+said you killed a couple of them. I hope you did."
+
+Mose was very short. "I don't think any of them died at my hands, but
+they deserved it, sure enough."
+
+She smiled again. "After seeing you on the street, I went home and
+looked up that slip--I saved it, you see. I've wanted to see you for a
+long time. You've had a wonderful life for one so young. This article
+raked up a whole lot of stuff about you--said you were the son of a
+preacher--is that so?"
+
+"Yes, that part of it was true."
+
+"Same old story, isn't it? I'm the daughter of a college
+professor--sectarian college at that." She smiled a moment, then became
+as suddenly grave. "I like men. I like men who face danger and think
+nothing of it. The article said you came West when a mere boy and got
+mixed up in some funny business on the plains and had to take a sneak to
+the mountains. What have you been doing since? I wish you'd tell me the
+whole story. Come to my house; it's just around the corner."
+
+As she talked, her voice became more subtly pleasing, and the lines of
+her mouth took on a touch of girlish grace.
+
+"I haven't time to do that," Mose said, "and besides, my story don't
+amount to much. You don't want to believe all they say of me. I've just
+knocked around a little like a thousand other fellows, that's all. I
+pull out to-night. I'm looking up an old friend down here on a ranch."
+
+She saw her mistake. "All right," she said, and smiled radiantly. "But
+come some other time, won't you?" She was so winning, so frank and
+kindly that Mose experienced a sudden revulsion of feeling. A powerful
+charm came from her superb physique, her radiant color, and from her
+beautiful, flexile lips and sound white teeth. He hesitated, and she
+pressed her advantage.
+
+"You needn't be afraid of me. The boys often drop in to see me of an
+evening. If I can be of any use to you, let me know. I'll tell you what
+you do. You take supper with me here to-morrow night. What say?"
+
+Mose looked across at the scowling face of the woman's companion and
+said hesitatingly:
+
+"Well, I'll see. If I have time--maybe I will."
+
+She smiled again and impulsively reached her hand to him, and as he took
+it he was nearly won by her friendliness. This she did not know, and he
+was able to go out into the street alone. He could not but observe that
+the attendants treated him with added respect by reason of his
+acquaintance with the wealthiest and most powerful woman in the camp.
+She had made his loneliness very keen and hard to bear.
+
+As he walked down the street he thought of Mary--she seemed to be a
+sister to the distant, calm and glorious moon just launching into the
+sky above the serrate wall of snowy peaks to the East. There was a
+powerful appeal in the vivid and changeful woman he had just met, for
+her like had never touched his life before.
+
+As he climbed back up the hill toward the corral where he had left his
+horse, he was filled with a wordless disgust of the town and its people.
+The night was still and cool, almost frosty. The air so clear and so
+rare filled his lungs with wholesomely sweet and reanimating breath. His
+head cleared, and his heart grew regular in its beating. The moon was
+sailing in mid-ocean, between the Great Divide and the Christo Range,
+cold and sharp of outline as a boat of silver. Lizard Head to the south
+loomed up ethereal as a cloud, so high it seemed to crash among the
+stars. The youth drew a deep breath and said: "To hell with the town."
+
+Kintuck whinnied caressingly as he heard his master's voice. After
+putting some grain before the horse, Mose rolled himself in his blanket
+and went to sleep with only a passing thought of the princess, her
+luxurious home, and her radiant and inscrutable personality.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+AGAIN ON THE ROUND-UP
+
+
+It was good to hear again the bawling of the bulls and the shouts of the
+cowboys, and to see the swirling herd and the flying, guarding, checking
+horsemen. Mose, wearied, weather-beaten, and somber-visaged, looked down
+upon the scene with musing eyes. The action was quite like that on the
+Arickaree; the setting alone was different. Here the valley was a wide,
+deliciously green bowl, with knobby hills, pine-covered and abrupt,
+rising on all sides. Farther back great snow-covered peaks rose to
+enormous heights. In the center of this superb basin the camps were
+pitched, and the roping and branding went on like the action of a
+prodigious drama. The sun, setting in orange-colored clouds, brought out
+the velvet green of the sward with marvelous radiance. The tents gleamed
+in the midst of the valley like flakes of pearl.
+
+The heart of the wanderer warmed within him, and with a feeling that he
+was almost home he called to his pack horse "Hy-ak-boy!" and started
+down the hill. As he drew near the herd he noted the great changes which
+had come over the cattle. They were now nearly all grades of Hereford or
+Holstein. They were larger of body, heavier of limb, and less active
+than the range cattle of the plains, but were sufficiently speedy to
+make handling them a fine art.
+
+As he drew near the camp a musical shout arose, and Reynolds spurred his
+horse out to meet him. "It's Mose!" he shouted. "Boy, I'm glad to see
+ye, I certainly am. Shake hearty. Where ye from?"
+
+"The Wind River."
+
+"What have you been doing up there?"
+
+"Oh, knocking around with some Shoshones on a hunting trip."
+
+"Well, by mighty, I certainly am glad to see ye. You look thin as a
+spring steer."
+
+"My looks don't deceive me then. My two sides are rubbin' together. How
+are the folks?"
+
+"They ah very well, thank you. Cora and Pink will certainly go plumb
+crazy when they see you a-comin'."
+
+"Where's your house?"
+
+"Just over that divide--but slip your packs off. Old Kintuck looks well;
+I knew him when you topped the hill."
+
+"Yes, he's still with me, and considerable of a horse yet."
+
+They drew up to the door of one of the main tents and slipped the
+saddles from the weary horses.
+
+"Do ye hobble?"
+
+"No--they stay with me," said Mose, slapping Kintuck. "Go on, boy,
+here's grass worth while for ye."
+
+"By mighty, Mose!" said Reynolds, looking at the trailer tenderly, "it
+certainly is good for sore eyes to see ye. I didn't know but you'd got
+mixed up an' done for in some of them squabbles. I heard the State
+authorities had gone out to round up that band of reds you was with."
+
+"We did have one brush with the sheriff and some game wardens, but I
+stood him off while my friends made tracks for the reservation. The
+sheriff was for fight, but I argued him out of it. It looked like hot
+weather for a while."
+
+While they were talking the cook set up a couple of precarious benches
+and laid a wide board thereon. Mose remarked it.
+
+"A table! Seems to me that's a little hifalutin'."
+
+"So it is, but times are changing."
+
+"I reckon the range on the Arickaree is about wiped out."
+
+"Yes. We had a couple of years with rain a-plenty, and that brought a
+boom in settlement; everything along the river was homesteaded, and so I
+retreated--the range was overstocked anyhow. This time I climbed high. I
+reckon I'm all right now while I live. They can't raise co'n in this
+high country, and not much of anything but grass. They won't bother us
+no mo'. It's a good cattle country, but a mighty tough range to ride, as
+you'll find. I thought I knew what rough riding was, but when it comes
+to racin' over these granite knobs, I'm jest a little too old. I'm
+getting heavy, too, you notice."
+
+"_Grub-pile! All down for grub!_" yelled the cook, and the boys came
+trooping in. They were all strangers, but not strange to Mose. They
+conformed to types he already knew. Some were young lads, and the word
+having passed around that "Black Mose" was in camp, they approached with
+awe. The man whose sinister fame had spread throughout three States was
+a very great personage to them.
+
+"Did you come by way of Wagon Wheel?" inquired a tall youth whom the
+others called "Brindle Bill."
+
+"Yes; camped there one night."
+
+"Ain't it a caution to yaller snakes? Must be nigh onto fifteen thousand
+people there now. The hills is plumb measly with prospect holes, and
+you can't look at a rock f'r less'n a thousand dollars. It shore is the
+craziest town that ever went anywhere."
+
+"Bill's got the fever," said another. "He just about wears hisself out
+a-pickin' up and a-totein' 'round likely lookin' rocks. Seems like he
+was lookin' fer gold mines 'stid o' cattle most of the time."
+
+"You're just in time for the turnament, Mose."
+
+"For the how-many?"
+
+"The turnament and bullfight. Joe Grassie has been gettin' up a
+bullfight and a kind of a show. He 'lows to bring up some regular
+fighters from Mexico and have a real, sure-'nough bullfight. Then he's
+offered a prize of fifty dollars for the best roper, and fifty dollars
+for the best shooter."
+
+"I didn't happen to hear of it, but I'm due to take that fifty; I need
+it," said Mose.
+
+"He 'lows to have some races--pony races and broncho busting."
+
+"When does it come off?" asked Mose with interest.
+
+"On the fourth."
+
+"I'll be there."
+
+After supper was over Reynolds said: "Are you too tired to ride over to
+the ranch?"
+
+"Oh, no! I'm all right now."
+
+"Well, I'll just naturally throw the saddles on a couple of bronchos and
+we'll go see the folks."
+
+Mose felt a warm glow around his heart as he trotted away beside
+Reynolds across the smooth sod. His affection for the Reynolds family
+was scarcely second to his boyish love for Mr. and Mrs. Burns.
+
+It was dark before they came in sight of the light in the narrow valley
+of the Mink. "There's the camp," said Reynolds. "No, I didn't build it;
+it's an old ranch; in fact, I bought the whole outfit."
+
+Mrs. Reynolds had not changed at all in the three years, but Cora had
+grown handsomer and seemed much less timid, though she blushed vividly
+as Mose shook her hand.
+
+"I'm glad to see you back," she said.
+
+Moved by an unusual emotion, Mose replied: "You haven't pined away any."
+
+"Pined!" exclaimed her mother. "Well, I should say not. You should see
+her when Jim Haynes----"
+
+"Mother!" called the girl sharply, and Pink, now a beautiful child of
+eight, came opportunely into the room and drew the conversation to
+herself.
+
+As Mose, with Pink at his knee, sat watching the two women moving about
+the table, a half-formed resolution arose in his brain. He was weary of
+wandering, weary of loneliness. This comfortable, homely room, this
+tender little form in his arms, made an appeal to him which was as
+powerful as it was unexpected. He had lived so long in his blanket, with
+only Kintuck for company, that at this moment it seemed as if these were
+the best things to do--to stay with Reynolds, to make Cora happy, and to
+rest. He had seen all phases of wild life and had carried out his plans
+to see the wonders of America. He had crossed the Painted Desert and
+camped beside the Colorado in the greatest cañon in the world. He had
+watched the Mokis while they danced with live rattlesnakes held between
+their lips. He had explored the cliff-dwellings of the Navajo country
+and had looked upon the sea of peaks which tumbles away in measureless
+majesty from Uncompahgre's eagle-crested dome. He had peered into the
+boiling springs of the Yellowstone, and had lifted his eyes to the white
+Tetons whose feet are set in a mystic lake, around which the loons laugh
+all the summer long. He knew the chiefs of a dozen tribes and was a
+welcome guest among them. In his own mind he was no longer young--his
+youth was passing, perhaps the time had come to settle down.
+
+Cora turned suddenly from the table, where she stood arranging the
+plates and knives and forks with a pleasant bustle, and said:
+
+"O Mose! we've got two or three letters for you. We've had 'em ever so
+long--I don't suppose they will be of much good to you now. I'll get
+them for you."
+
+"They look old," he said as he took them from her hand. "They look as if
+they'd been through the war." The first was from his father, the second
+from Jack, and the third in a woman's hand--could only be Mary's. He
+stared at it--almost afraid to open it in the presence of the family. He
+read the one from his father first, because he conceived it less
+important, and because he feared the other.
+
+    "MY DEAR SON: I am writing to you through Jack, although he
+    does not feel sure we can reach you. I want to let you know
+    of the death of Mrs. Excell. She died very suddenly of acute
+    pneumonia. She was always careless of her footwear and went
+    out in the snow to hang out some linen without her rubber
+    shoes. We did everything that could be done but she only
+    lived six days after the exposure. Life is very hard for me
+    now. I write also to say that as I am now alone and in bad
+    health I shall accept a call to Sweetwater Springs, Colorado,
+    for two reasons. One is that my health may be regained, and
+    for the reason, also, my dear son, that I may be nearer
+    you. If this reaches you and you can come to see me I hope
+    you will do so.  I am lonely now and I long for you. The
+    parish is small and the pay meager, but that will not matter
+    if I can see you occasionally.  Maud and her little family
+    are well. I go to my new church in April.
+
+                                        "Your father,
+                                                  "SAMUEL EXCELL."
+
+For a moment this letter made Mose feel his father's loneliness, and had
+he not held in his hand two other and more important letters he would
+have replied with greater tenderness than ever before in his life.
+
+"Well, Mose, set up," said Mrs. Reynolds; "letters'll keep."
+
+He was distracted all through the meal in spite of the incessant
+questioning of his good friends. They were determined to uncover every
+act of his long years of wandering.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I've been hungry and cold, but I always looked after my
+horse, and so, when I struck a cow country I could whirl in and earn
+some money. It don't take much to keep me when I'm on the trail."
+
+"What's the good of seein' so much?" asked Mrs. Reynolds.
+
+He smiled a slow, musing smile. "Oh, I don't know. The more you see the
+more you want to see. Just now I feel like taking a little rest."
+
+Cora smiled at him. "I wish you would. You look like a starved cat--you
+ought'o let us feed you up for a while."
+
+"Spoil me for the trail," he said, but his eyes conveyed a message of
+gratitude for her sympathy, and she flushed again.
+
+After supper Mrs. Reynolds said: "Now if you want to read your letters
+by yourself, you can." She opened a door and he looked in.
+
+"A bed! I haven't slept in a bed for two years."
+
+"Well, it won't kill ye, not for one night, I reckon," she said.
+
+He looked around the little room, at the dainty lace curtains tied with
+little bows of ribbon, at the pictures and lambrequins, and it filled
+his heart with a sudden stress of longing. It made him remember the
+pretty parlor in which Mary had received him four years before, and he
+opened her letter with a tremor in his hands. It was dated the Christmas
+day of the year of his visit; it was more than three years belated, but
+he read it as if it were written the day before, and it moved him quite
+as powerfully.
+
+    "MY DEAR FRIEND: The impulse to write to you has grown
+    stronger day by day since you left. Your wonderful life and
+    your words appealed to my imagination with such power that I
+    have been unable to put them out of my mind. Without
+    intending to do so you have filled me with a great desire to
+    see the West which is able to make you forget your family and
+    friends and calls you on long journeys. I have sung for you
+    every Sunday as I promised to do. Your friend Jack called to
+    see me last night and we had a long talk about you.  He is to
+    write you also and gave me your probable address. You said
+    you were not a good writer but I wish you would let me know
+    where you are and what you are doing, for I feel a deep
+    interest in you, although I can not make myself believe that
+    you are not the Harold Excell I saw in Rock River. In reality
+    you are not he, any more than I am the little prig who sang
+    those songs to save your soul!  However, I was not so bad as
+    I seemed even then, for I wanted you to admire my voice.
+
+    "I hope this Christmas day finds you in a warm and sheltered
+    place.  It would be a great comfort to me if I could know you
+    were not cold and hungry. Jack brought me a beautiful
+    present--a set of George Eliot. I ought not to have accepted
+    it but he seemed so sure it would please me I had not the
+    heart to refuse. I would send something to you only I can't
+    feel sure of reaching you, and neither does Jack.
+
+    "It may be of interest to you to know that Mr. King the
+    pastor, in whose church I sang, has resigned his pastorate to
+    go abroad for a year. His successor is a man with a family--I
+    don't see how he will manage to live on the salary. Mr. King
+    had independent means and was a bachelor."
+
+Right there the youth stopped. Something told him that he had reached
+the heart of the woman's message. King had resigned to go abroad. Why?
+The tone of the letter was studiedly cold. Why? There were a few more
+lines to say that Jack was coming in to eat Christmas dinner with her
+and that she would sing If I Were a Voice. He was not super-subtle and
+yet something in this letter made his throat fill and his head a little
+_dizzy_. If it did not mean that she had broken with King, then truth
+could not be conveyed in lines of black ink.
+
+He tore open Jack's letter. It was short and to the point.
+
+    "DEAR HARRY: If you can get away come back to Marmion and see
+    Mary again. She wants to see you _bad_. I don't know what has
+    happened but I _think_ she has given King his walking
+    papers--and all on account of you. _I know it._ It can't be
+    anybody else. She talked of you the entire evening. O man!
+    but she was beautiful. She sang for me but her mind was away
+    in the mountains. I could see that. It was her interest in
+    you made her so nice to me. Now that's the God's truth. Come
+    back and get her.
+
+                                    "Yours in haste,
+                                              "JACK."
+
+Mose tingled with the sudden joy of it. Jack's letter, so unlike his
+usual calm, was convincing. He sprang up, a smile on his face, his eyes
+shining with happiness, his blood surging through his heart, and then he
+remembered the letters were three years old! The gray cloud settled down
+upon him--his limbs grew cold, and the light went out of his eyes.
+
+Three years! While he was camping in the Grand Cañon with the lizards
+and skunks she was waiting to hear from him. While he sat in the shade
+of the walls of Walpi, surrounded by hungry dogs and pot-bellied
+children, she was singing for him and wondering whether her letter had
+ever reached him. Three years! A thousand things could happen in three
+years. She may have died!--a cold shudder touched him--she might tire of
+waiting and marry some one else--or she might have gone away to the
+East, that unknown and dangerous jungle of cities.
+
+He sprang up again. "I will go to see her!" he said to himself. Then he
+remembered. His horse was worn, he had no money and no suitable
+clothing. Then he thought: "I will write." It did not occur to him to
+telegraph, for he had never done such a thing in his life.
+
+He walked out into the sitting-room, his letters in his hands.
+
+"How far do you call it to Wagon Wheel?"
+
+"About thirty miles, and all up hill."
+
+"Will you loan me one of your bronchos?"
+
+"Certain sure, my boy."
+
+"I want to ride up there and send a couple of letters."
+
+"Better wait till morning," said Reynolds. "Your letters have waited
+three years--I reckon they'll keep over night."
+
+"That's so," said Mose with a smile.
+
+Sleep came to him swiftly, in spite of his letters, for he was very
+tired, but he found the room close and oppressive when he arose in the
+morning. The women were already preparing breakfast and Reynolds sat by
+the fire pulling on his boots.
+
+As they were walking out to the barn Reynolds plucked him by the sleeve
+and said:
+
+"I reckon I've lost my chance to kill Craig."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"A Mexican took the job off my hands." His face expressed a sort of
+gloomy dissatisfaction. Then without looking at Mose he went on: "That's
+one reason daughter looks so pert. She's free of that skunk's clutches
+now--and can hold up her head. She's free to marry a decent man."
+
+Mose was silent. Mary's letter had thrust itself between his lips and
+Cora's shapely head, and all thought of marriage with her was gone.
+
+As they galloped up to the camp the boys were at work finishing the last
+bunch of calves. The camp wagon was packed and ready to start across the
+divide, but the cook flourished a newspaper and came running up.
+
+"Here you are, posted like a circus."
+
+Mose took the paper, and on the front page read in big letters:
+
+                             BLACK MOSE!
+                         Mysterious as Ever.
+                      The Celebrated Dead Shot.
+             Visits Wagon Wheel, and Swiftly Disappears.
+
+"Damn 'em!" said Mose, "can't they let me alone? Seems like they can't
+rest till they crowd me into trouble."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+MOSE RETURNS TO WAGON WHEEL
+
+
+As Mose threw the rope over the bald-faced pinto the boys all chuckled
+and drew near, for they knew the character of the horse. Reynolds had
+said, "Take your pick o' the bunch," and Mose, with the eye of a
+horseman, had roped the pinto because of his size, depth of chest, and
+splendid limbs.
+
+As he was leading his captive out of the bunch the cook said to Mose,
+"Better not take that pinto; he's mean as a hornet."
+
+"Is his wind all right?"
+
+"He's one o' the best horses on the range, all right, but he shore is
+mean all the way through. He always pitches at the start like he was
+fair crazy."
+
+"Does he go when he gets through?" asked Mose of Reynolds.
+
+"Yes, he's a good traveler."
+
+"I don't want to be delayed, that's all. If he'll go, I'll stay by him."
+
+The boys nudged elbows while Mose threw the saddle on the cringing
+brute and cinched it till the pinto, full of suffering, drew great,
+quiet gulps of breath and groaned. Swift, practiced, relentless, Mose
+dragged at the latigo till the wide hair web embedded itself in the
+pony's hide. Having coiled the rope neatly out of the way, while the
+broncho stood with drooping head but with a dull red flame in his eyes,
+Mose flung the rein over the pony's head. Then pinto woke up. With a
+mighty sidewise bound he attempted to leave his rider, but Mose,
+studiedly imperturbable, with left hand holding the reins and right hand
+grasping the pommel, went with him as if that were the ordinary way of
+mounting. Immense power was in the stiff-legged leaping of the beast.
+His body seemed a ball of coiled steel springs. His "watch-eye" rolled
+in frenzy. It seemed he wished to beat his head against his rider's face
+and kill him. He rushed away with a rearing, jerking motion, in a series
+of jarring bounds, snapping his rider like the lash of a whip, then
+stopped suddenly, poised on his fore feet, with devilish intent to
+discharge Mose over his head. With the spurs set deep into the quivering
+painted hide of his mount Mose began plying the quirt like a flail. The
+boys cheered and yelled with delight. It was one of their chief
+recreations, this battle with a pitching broncho.
+
+Suddenly the desperate beast paused and, rearing recklessly high in the
+air, fell backward hoping to crush his rider under his saddle. In the
+instant, while he towered, poised in the air, Mose shook his right foot
+free of the stirrup and swung to the left and alighted on his feet,
+while the fallen horse, stunned by his own fall, lay for an instant,
+groaning and coughing. Under the sting of the quirt, he scrambled to his
+feet only to find his inexorable rider again on his back, with merciless
+spurs set deep in the quick of his quivering sides. With a despairing
+squeal he set off in a low, swift, sidewise gallop, and for nearly an
+hour drummed along the trail, up hill and down, the foam mingling with
+the yellow dust on his heaving flanks.
+
+When the broncho's hot anger had cooled, Mose gave him his head, and
+fell to thinking upon the future. He had been more than eight years in
+the range and on the trail and all he owned in the world was a saddle, a
+gun, a rope, and a horse. The sight of Cora, the caressing of little
+Pink, and Mary's letter had roused in him a longing for a wife and a
+shanty of his own.
+
+The grass was getting sere, there was new-fallen snow on Lizard Head,
+and winter was coming. He had the animal's instinct to den up, to seek
+winter quarters. Certain ties other than those of Mary's love combined
+to draw him back to Marmion for the winter. If he could only shake off
+his burdening notoriety and go back to see her--to ask her
+advice--perhaps she could aid him. But to _sneak_ back again--to crawl
+about in dark corners--that was impossible.
+
+He was no longer the frank and boyish lover of adventure. Life troubled
+him now, conduct was become less simple, actions each day less easily
+determined. These women now made him ponder. Cora, who was accustomed to
+the range and whose interests were his own in many ways, the princess,
+whose money and influence could get him something to do in Wagon Wheel,
+and Mary, whose very name made him shudder with remembered
+adoration--each one now made him think. Mary, of all the group, was most
+certainly unfitted to share his mode of life, and yet the thought of her
+made the others impossible to him.
+
+The marshal saw him ride up the street and throw himself from his horse
+before the post office and hastened toward him with his hand extended.
+"Hello! Mose, I've got a telegram for you from Sweetwater."
+
+Mose took it without a word and opened it. It was from his father: "Wait
+for me in Wagon Wheel. I am coming."
+
+The marshal was grinning. "Did you see the write-up in yesterday's
+Mother Lode?"
+
+"Yes--I saw it, and cussed you for it."
+
+"I knowd you would, but I couldn't help it. Billy, the editor, got hold
+of me and pumped the whole story out of me before I knew it. I don't
+think it does you any harm."
+
+"It didn't do me any good," replied Mose shortly.
+
+"Say, the princess wants to see you. She's on the street somewhere now,
+looking for you."
+
+"Where's the telegraph office?" he abruptly asked.
+
+The telegram from his father had put the idea into his head to
+communicate in that way with Mary and Jack.
+
+The marshal led the way to a stage office wherein stood a counter and a
+row of clicking machines.
+
+"What is the cost of a telegram to Marmion, Iowa?" asked Mose.
+
+"One dollar, ten words. Each ad----"
+
+Mose thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out all his money, a
+handful of small change. His face grew bitter, his last dollar was
+broken into bits.
+
+"Make it night rates for sixty," said the operator. "Be delivered
+to-morrow morning."
+
+"Go ahead," said Mose, and set to work to compose a message. The
+marshal, with unexpected delicacy, sauntered out into the street.
+
+Now that he was actually face to face with the problem of answering
+Mary's letter in ten words the youth's hand refused to write, and he
+stood looking at the yellow slip of paper with an intensity that was
+comical to the clerk. Plainly this cowboy was not accustomed to
+telegraphing.
+
+Mose felt the waiting presence of the clerk and said:
+
+"Can I set down here and think it over?"
+
+"Why sure, take a seat at that table over there."
+
+Under the pressure of his emotion Mose wrote "Dear Mary" and stopped.
+The chap at the other end of the line would read that and comment on it.
+He struck that out. Then it occurred to him that if he signed it "Harry"
+_this_ operator would marvel, and if he signed "Mose" the other end of
+the line would wonder. He rose, crushing the paper in his hand, and went
+out into the street. There was only one way--to write.
+
+This he did standing at the ink-bespattered shelf which served as
+writing desk in the post office.
+
+    "DEAR MARY: I have just received your letter. It's a little
+    late but perhaps it ain't too late. Anyhow, I'm banking on
+    this finding you just the same as when you wrote. I wish I
+    could visit you again but I'm afraid I couldn't do it a
+    second time without being recognized, but write to me at
+    once, and, if you say come, I'll come. I am poorer than I was
+    four years ago, but I've been on the trail, I know the
+    mountains now. There's no other place for me, but I get
+    lonesome sometimes when I think of you. I'm no good at
+    writing letters--can't write as well as I could when I was
+    twenty, so don't mind my short letter, but if I could see
+    you! Write at once and I'll borrow or steal enough money to
+    pay my way to you--I don't expect to ever see you out here in
+    the West."
+
+While still pondering over his letter he heard the rustle of a woman's
+dress and turned to face the princess, in magnificent attire, her gloved
+hand extended toward him, her face radiant with pleasure.
+
+"Why, my dear boy, where have you been?"
+
+Mose shook hands, his letter to Mary (still unsealed) in his left hand.
+"Been down on the range," he mumbled in profound embarrassment.
+
+She assumed a girlish part. "But you _promised_ to come and see me."
+
+He turned away to seal his letter and she studied him with admiring
+eyes. He was so interesting in his boyish confusion--graceful in spite
+of his irrelevant movements, for he was as supple, as properly poised,
+and as sinewy as a panther.
+
+"You're a great boy," she said to him when he came back. "I like you, I
+want to do something for you. Get into my carriage, and let me tell you
+of some plans."
+
+He looked down at his faded woolen shirt and lifted his hand to his
+greasy sombrero. "Oh, no! I can't do that."
+
+She laughed. "You ought to be able to stand it if I can. I'd be rather
+proud of having 'Black Mose' in my carriage."
+
+"I guess not," he said. There was a cadence in these three words to
+which she bowed her head. She surrendered her notion quickly.
+
+"Come down to the Palace with me."
+
+"All right, I'll do that," he replied without interest.
+
+"Meet me there in half an hour."
+
+"All right."
+
+"Good-by till then."
+
+He did not reply but took her extended hand, while the young fellow in
+the postal cage grinned with profound appreciation. After the princess
+went out this clerk said, "Pard, you've struck it rich."
+
+Mose turned and his eyebrows lowered dangerously. "Keep to your letter
+punchin', young feller, and you'll enjoy better health."
+
+Those who happened to be standing in the room held their breath, for in
+that menacing, steady glare they recognized battle.
+
+The clerk gasped and stammered, "I didn't mean anything."
+
+"That's all right. You're lately from the East, or you wouldn't get gay
+with strangers in this country. See if there is any mail for Mose
+Harding--or Harry Excell."
+
+"Sorry, sir--nothing for Mr. Harding, nothing for Mr. Excell."
+
+Mose turned back to the desk and scrawled a short letter to Jack Burns
+asking him to let him know at once where Mary was, and whether it would
+be safe for him to visit her.
+
+As he went out in the street to mount his horse the marshal met him
+again, and Mose, irritated and hungry, said sharply:
+
+"See here, pardner, you act most cussedly like a man keeping watch on
+me."
+
+The marshal hastened to say, "Nothing of the kind. I like you, that's
+all. I want to talk with you--in fact I'm under orders from the princess
+to help you get a job if you want one. I've got an offer now. The
+Express Company want you to act as guard between here and Cañon City.
+Pay is one hundred dollars a month, ammunition furnished."
+
+Mose threw out his hand. "I'll do it--take it all back."
+
+The marshal shook hands without resentment, considering the apology
+ample, and together they sauntered down the street.
+
+"Now, pardner, let me tell you how I size up the princess. She's a
+good-hearted woman as ever lived, but she's a little off color with the
+women who run the church socials here. She's a rippin' good business
+woman, and her luck beats h--l. Why last week she bought a feller's
+claim in fer ten thousand dollars and yesterday they tapped a vein of
+eighty dollar ore, runnin' three feet wide. She don't haff to live
+here--she's worth a half million dollars--but she likes mining and she
+likes men. She knows how to handle 'em too--as you'll find out. She's
+hail-fellow with us all--but I tell ye she's got to like a feller all
+through before he sees the inside of her parlor. She's stuck on you.
+We're good friends--she come to call on my wife yesterday, and she
+talked about you pretty much the hull time. I never saw her worse bent
+up over a man. I believe she'd marry you, Mose, I do."
+
+"Takes two for a bargain of that kind," said Mose.
+
+The marshal turned. "But, my boy, that means making you a half owner of
+all she has--why that last mine may go to a million within six months."
+
+"That's all right," Mose replied, feeling the intended good will of the
+older man. "But I expect to find or earn my own money. I can't marry a
+woman fifteen years older'n I am for her money. It ain't right and it
+ain't decent, and you'll oblige me by shutting up all such talk."
+
+The sheriff humbly sighed. "She is a good deal older, that's a fact--but
+she's took care of herself. Still, as you say, it's none o' my business.
+If she can't persuade you, I can't. Come in, and I'll introduce you to
+the managers of the National----"
+
+"Can't now, I will later."
+
+"All right, so long! Come in any time."
+
+Mose stepped into a barber shop to brush up a little, for he had
+acquired a higher estimate of the princess, and when he entered the
+dining room of the Palace he made a handsome figure. Whatever he wore
+acquired distinction from his beauty. His hat, no matter how stained,
+possessed charm. His dark shirt displayed the splendid shape of his
+shoulders, and his cartridge belt slanted across his hip at just the
+right angle.
+
+The woman waiting for him smiled with an exultant glint in her
+half-concealed eyes.
+
+"Sit there," she commanded, pointing at a chair. "Two beers," she said
+to the waiter.
+
+Mose took the chair opposite and looked at her smilelessly. He waited
+for her to move.
+
+"Ever been East--Chicago, Washington?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Want to go?"
+
+"No."
+
+She smiled again. "Know anything about mining?"
+
+"Not a thing."
+
+She looked at him with a musing, admiring glance. "I've got a big cattle
+ranch--will you superintend it for me?"
+
+"Where is it?"
+
+She laughed and stammered a little. "Well--I mean I've been thinking of
+buying one. I'm kind o' tired of these mining towns; I believe I'd like
+to live on a ranch, with you to superintend it."
+
+His face darkened again, and she hastened to say, "The cattle business
+is going to boom again soon. They're all dropping out of it fast, but
+_now_ is the time to get in and buy."
+
+The beer came and interrupted her. "Here's to good luck," she said. They
+drank, and as she daintily touched her lips with her handkerchief she
+lifted her eyes to him again--strange eyes with lovely green and yellow
+and pink lights in them not unlike some semi-precious stones.
+
+"You don't like me," she said. "Why won't you let me help you?"
+
+"You want a square-toed answer?" he asked grimly, looking her steadily
+in the eyes.
+
+She paled a little. "Yes."
+
+"There is a girl in Iowa--I make it my business to work for her."
+
+Her eyes fell and her right hand slowly turned the mug around and
+around. When she looked up she seemed older and her eyes were sadder.
+"That need make no difference."
+
+"But it does," he said slowly. "It makes all the difference there is."
+
+She became suddenly very humble. "You misunderstand me--I mean, I'll
+help you both. How do you expect to live?"
+
+His eyes fell now. He flushed and shifted uneasily in his chair. "I
+don't know." Then he unbent a little in saying, "That's what's bothering
+me right now."
+
+She pursued her advantage. "If you marry you've got to quit all this
+trail business."
+
+"Dead sure thing! And that scares me too. I don't know how I'd stand
+being tied down to a stake."
+
+She laid a hand on his arm. "Now see here, Mose, you let me help you.
+You know all about cattle and the trail, you can shoot and throw a
+rope, but you're a babe at lots of other things. You've got to get to
+work at something, settle right down, and dig up some dust. Now isn't
+that so?"
+
+"I reckon that's the size of it."
+
+It was singular how friendly she now seemed in his eyes. There was
+something so frank and gentle in her voice (though her eyes remained
+sinister) that he began almost to trust her.
+
+"Well, now, I tell you what you can do. You take the job I got for you
+with the Express Company and I'll look around and corral something else
+for you."
+
+He could not refuse to take her hand upon this compact. Then she said
+with an attempt to be careless, "Have you a picture of this girl? I'd
+like to see how she looks."
+
+His face darkened again. "No," he said shortly, "I never had one of
+her."
+
+She recognized his unwillingness to say more.
+
+"Well, good-by, come and see me."
+
+He parted from her with a sense of having been unnecessarily harsh with
+a woman who wished to be his good friend.
+
+He was hungry and that made him think of his horse which he returned to
+at once. After watering and feeding his tired beast he turned in at a
+coffeehouse and bought a lunch--not being able to afford a meal.
+Everywhere he went men pointed a timid or admiring thumb at him. They
+were unobtrusive about it, but it annoyed him at the moment. His mind
+was too entirely filled with perplexities to welcome strangers'
+greetings. "I _must_ earn some money," was the thought which brought
+with it each time the offer of the Express Company. He determined each
+time to take it although it involved riding the same trail over and over
+again, which made him shudder to think of. But it was three times the
+pay of a cowboy and a single month of it would enable him to make his
+trip to the East.
+
+After his luncheon he turned in at the office and sullenly accepted the
+job. "You're just the man we need," said the manager. "We've had two or
+three hold-ups here, but with you on the seat I shall feel entirely at
+ease. Marshal Haney has recommended you--and I know your record as a
+daring man. Can you go out to-morrow morning?"
+
+"Quicker the better."
+
+"I'd like to have you sleep here in the office. I'll see that you have a
+good bed."
+
+"Anywhere."
+
+After Mose went out the manager winked at the marshal and said:
+
+"It's a good thing to have him retained on our side. He'd make a bad man
+on the hold-up side."
+
+"Sure thing!" replied Haney.
+
+While loitering on a street corner still busy with his problems Mose saw
+a tall man on a fine black horse coming down the street. The rider
+slouched in his saddle like a tired man but with the grace of a true
+horseman. On his bushy head sat a wide soft hat creased in the middle.
+His suit was brown corduroy.
+
+Mose thought, "If that bushy head was not so white I should say it was
+father's. It _is_ father!"
+
+He let him pass, staring in astonishment at the transformation in the
+minister. "Well, well! the old man has woke up. He looks the real thing,
+sure."
+
+A drum struck up suddenly and the broncho (never too tired to shy) gave
+a frenzied leap. The rider went with him, reins in hand, heels set well
+in, knees grasping the saddle.
+
+Mose smiled with genuine pleasure. "I didn't know he could ride like
+that," and he turned to follow with a genuine interest.
+
+He came up to Mr. Excell just as the marshal stepped out of the crowd
+and accosted him. For the first time in his life Mose was moved to joke
+his father.
+
+"Marshal, that man is a dangerous character. I know him; put him out."
+
+The father turned and a smile lit his darkly tanned face. "Harry----"
+
+Mose made a swift sign, "Old man, how are ye?" The minister's manner
+pleased his son. He grasped his father's hand with a heartiness that
+checked speech for the moment, then he said, "I was looking for you.
+Where you from?"
+
+"I've got a summer camp between here and the Springs. I saw the notice
+of you in yesterday's paper. I've been watching the newspapers for a
+long time, hoping to get some word of you. I seized the first chance and
+came on."
+
+Mose turned. "Marshal, I'll vouch for this man; he's an old neighbor of
+mine."
+
+Mr. Excell slipped to the ground and Mose took the rein on his arm.
+"Come, let's put the horse with mine." They walked away, elbow to elbow.
+A wonderful change had swept over Mr. Excell. He was brown, alert, and
+vigorous--but more than all, his eyes were keen and cheerful and his
+smile ready and manly.
+
+"You're looking well," said the son.
+
+"I _am well_. Since I struck the high altitudes I'm a new man. I don't
+wonder you love this life."
+
+"Are you preaching?"
+
+"Yes, I speak once a week in the Springs. I ride down the trail from my
+cabin and back again the same day. The fact is I stayed in Rock River
+till I was nearly broken. I lost my health, and became morbid, trying to
+preach to the needs of the old men and women of my congregation. Now I
+am free. I am back to the wild country. Of course, so long as my wife
+lived I couldn't break away, but now I have no one but myself and my
+needs are small. I am happier than I have been for years."
+
+As they walked and talked together the two men approached an
+understanding. Mr. Excell felt sure of his son's interest, for the first
+time in many years, and avoided all terms of affection. In his return to
+the more primitive, bolder life he unconsciously left behind him all the
+"soft phrases" which had disgusted his son. He struck the right note
+almost without knowing it, and the son, precisely as he perceived in his
+father a return to rugged manliness, opened his hand to him.
+
+Together they took care of the horse, together they walked the streets.
+They sat at supper together and the father's joy was very great when at
+night they camped together and Mose so far unbent as to tell of his
+adventures. He did not confide his feeling for Mary--his love was far
+too deep for that. A strange woman had reached it by craft, a father's
+affection failed of it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE EAGLE GUARDS THE SHEEP
+
+
+Mose did not enter upon his duties as guard with joy. It seemed like
+small business and not exactly creditable employment for a trailer and
+cow puncher. It was in his judgment a foolish expenditure of money; but
+as there was nothing better to do and his need of funds was imperative,
+he accepted it.
+
+The papers made a great deal of it, complimenting the company upon its
+shrewdness, and freely predicted that no more hold-ups would take place
+along that route. Mose rode out of town on the seat with the driver, a
+Winchester between his knees and a belt of cartridges for both rifle and
+revolvers showing beneath his coat. He left the stable each morning at
+four A. M. and rode to the halfway house, where he slept over night,
+returning the following day. From the halfway house to the Springs there
+were settlers and less danger.
+
+He was conscious of being an object of curious inquiry. Meeting stage
+coaches was equivalent to being fired at by fifty pistols. Low words
+echoed from lip to lip: "Black Mose," "bad man," "graveyard of his own,"
+"good fellow when sober," etc. Sometimes, irritated and reckless, he
+lived up to his sinister reputation, and when some Eastern gentleman in
+brown corduroy timidly approached to say, "Fine weather," Mose turned
+upon him a baleful glare under which the questioner shriveled, to the
+delight of the driver, who vastly admired the new guard.
+
+At times he was unnecessarily savage. Well-meaning men who knew nothing
+about him, except that he was a guard, were rebuffed in quite the same
+way. He was indeed becoming self-conscious, as if on exhibition,
+somehow--and this feeling deepened as the days passed, for nothing
+happened. No lurking forms showed in the shadow of the pines. No voice
+called "Halt!" It became more and more like a stage play.
+
+He was much disturbed by Jack's letter which was waiting for him one
+night when he returned to Wagon Wheel.
+
+    "DEAR HARRY: I went up to see Mary a few weeks ago and found
+    she had gone to Chicago. Her father died over a year ago and
+    she decided soon after to go to the city and go on with her
+    music.  She's in some conservatory there. I don't know which
+    one. I tried hard to keep her on my own account but she
+    wouldn't listen to me.  Well, yes, she listened but she shook
+    her head. She dropped King soon after your visit--whether you
+    had anything to do with that or not I don't know--I think you
+    did, but as you didn't write she gave you up as a bad
+    job. She always used to talk of you and wonder where you
+    were, and every time I called she used to sing If I Were a
+    Voice. She never _said_ she was singing it for you, but there
+    were tears in her eyes--and in mine, too, old man. You
+    oughtn't to be throwing yourself away in that wild,
+    God-forsaken country. We discussed you most of the time. Once
+    in a while she'd see a little note in the paper about you,
+    and cut it out and send it to me. I did the same. We heard of
+    you at Flagstaff, Arizona. Then that row you had with the
+    Mormons was the next we knew, but we couldn't write. She said
+    it was pretty tough to hear of you only in some scrape, but I
+    told her your side hadn't been heard from and that gave her a
+    lot of comfort. The set-to you had about the Indians' right
+    to hunt pleased us both. That was a straight case. She said
+    it was like a knight of the olden time.
+
+    "She was uneasy about you, and once she said, 'I wish I could
+    reach him. That rough life terrifies me. He's in constant
+    danger.' I think she was afraid you'd take to drinking, and I
+    own up, old man, that worries _me_. If you only had somebody
+    to look after you--somebody to work for--like I have. I'm
+    going to be married in September. You know her--only she was
+    a little girl when you lived here. Her name is Lily
+    Blanchard.
+
+    "I wish I could help you about Mary. I'm going to write to
+    one or two parties who may know her address. If she's in
+    Chicago you could visit her without any trouble. They
+    wouldn't get on to you there at all. If you go, be sure and
+    come this way. Your father went to Denver from here--have you
+    heard from him?"
+
+There was deep commotion in the trailer's brain that night. The hope he
+had was too sacredly sweet to put into words--the hope that she still
+thought of him and longed for him. If Jack were right, then she had
+waited and watched for him through all those years of wandering, while
+he, bitter and unrelenting, and believing that she was King's wife, had
+refused to listen for her voice on Sunday evenings. If she had kept her
+promise, then on the trail, in cañons dark and deathly still, on the
+moonlit sand of the Painted Desert, on the high divides of the Needle
+Range, her thought had been winged toward him in song--and he had not
+listened.
+
+His thought turned now, for the first time, toward the great city, which
+was to him a savage jungle of unknown things, a web of wire, a maze of
+streets, a swirling flood of human beings, of interest now merely and
+solely because Mary had gone to live therein. "I'm due to make another
+trip East," he said to himself with a grim straightening of the lips.
+
+It was mighty serious business. To take Kintuck and hit the trail for
+the Kalispels over a thousand miles of mountain and plain, was simple,
+but to thrust himself amid the mad rush of a great city made his bold
+heart quail. Money was a minor consideration in the hills, but in the
+city it was a matter of life and death. Money he must now have, and as
+he could not borrow or steal it, it must be earned. In a month his wages
+would amount to one hundred dollars, but that was too slow. He saw no
+other way, however, so set his teeth and prepared to go on with the
+"fool business" of guarding the treasure wagon of the Express Company.
+
+His mind reverted often to the cowboy tournament which was about to come
+off, after hanging fire for a month, during which Grassi wrestled with
+the problem of how to hold a bullfight in opposition to the laws of the
+State. "If I could whirl in and catch one of those purses," thought
+Mose, "I could leave at the end of August. If I don't I must hang on
+till the first of October."
+
+He determined to enter for the roping contest and for the cowboy race
+and the revolver practice. Marshal Haney was delighted. "I'll attend to
+the business, but the entrance fees will be about twenty dollars."
+
+This staggered Mose. It meant an expenditure of nearly one fourth his
+month's pay in entrance fees, not to speak of the expense of keeping
+Kintuck, for the old horse had to go into training and be grain-fed as
+well. However, he was too confident of winning to hesitate. He drew on
+his wages, and took a day off to fetch Kintuck, whom he found fat and
+hearty and very dirty.
+
+The boys at the Reynolds ranch were willing to bet on Mose, and every
+soul determined to be there. Cora said quietly: "I know you'll win."
+
+"Well, I don't expect to sweep the board, but I'll get a lunch while the
+rest are getting a full meal," he replied, and returned to his duties.
+
+The weather did not change for the tournament. Each morning the sun
+arose flashing with white, undimmed fire. At ten o'clock great dazzling
+white clouds developed from hidden places behind huge peaks, and as they
+expanded each let fall a veil of shimmering white storms that were hail
+on the heights and sleet on the paths in the valleys. These clouds
+passed swiftly, the sun came out, the dandelions shone vividly through
+their coverlet of snow, the eaves dripped, the air was like March, and
+the sunsets like November.
+
+Naturally, Sunday was the day fixed upon for the tournament, and early
+on that day miners in clean check shirts and bright new blue overalls
+began to stream away up the road which led to the race track, some two
+miles away, on the only level ground for a hundred miles. Swift horses
+hitched to light open buggies whirled along, loaded down with men.
+Horsemen galloped down the slopes in squadrons--and such
+horsemen!--cowboys from "Lost Park" and "the Animas." Prospectors like
+Casey and Kelly who were quite as much at home on a horse as with a pick
+in a ditch, and men like Marshal Haney and Grassi, who were all-round
+plainsmen, and by that same token born horsemen. Haney and Kelly rode
+with Reynolds and Mose, while Cora and Mrs. Reynolds followed in a rusty
+buggy drawn by a fleabitten gray cow pony, sedate with age.
+
+Kintuck was as alert as a four-year-old. His rest had filled him to
+bursting with ambition to do and to serve. His muscles played under his
+shining skin like those of a trained athlete. Obedient to the lightest
+touch or word of his master, with ears in restless motion, he curvetted
+like a racer under the wire.
+
+"Wouldn't know that horse was twelve years old, would you, gentlemen?"
+said Reynolds. "Well, so he is, and he has covered fifteen thousand
+miles o' trail."
+
+Mose was at his best. With vivid tie flowing from the collar of his blue
+shirt, with a new hat properly crushed in on the crown in four places,
+with shining revolver at his hip, and his rope coiled at his right knee,
+he sat his splendid horse, haughty and impassive of countenance,
+responding to the greetings of the crowd only with a slight nod or a
+wave of the hand.
+
+It seemed to him that the population of the whole State--at least its
+men--was assembled within the big stockade. There were a few women--just
+enough to add decorum to the crowd. They were for the most part the
+wives or sisters or sweethearts of those who were to contest for prizes,
+but as Mose rode around the course he passed "the princess" sitting in
+her shining barouche and waving a handkerchief. He pretended not to see
+her, though it gave him pleasure to think that the most
+brilliantly-dressed woman on the grounds took such interest in him.
+Another man would have ridden up to her carriage, but Mose kept on
+steadily to the judge's stand, where he found a group of cowboys
+discussing the programme with Haney, the marshal of the day.
+
+Mose already knew his dangerous rival--a powerful and handsome fellow
+called Denver Dan, whose face was not unlike his own. His nose was
+straight and strong, his chin finely modeled, and his head graceful, but
+he was heavier, and a persistent flush on his nose and in his eyelids
+betrayed the effects of liquor. His hands were small and graceful and he
+wore his hat with a certain attractive insolence, but his mouth was
+cruel and his eyes menacing. When in liquor he was known to be
+ferocious. He was mounted on a superbly pointed grade broncho, and all
+his hangings were of costly Mexican workmanship and betrayed use.
+
+"The first thing is a 'packing contest,'" read Haney.
+
+"Oh, to h----l with that, I'm no packer," growled Dan.
+
+"I try that," said Mose; "I let nothing get away to-day."
+
+"Entrance fee one dollar."
+
+"Here you are." Mose tossed a dollar.
+
+"Then 'roping and holding contest.'"
+
+"Now you're talking my business," exclaimed Dan.
+
+"There are others," said Mose.
+
+Dan turned a contemptuous look on the speaker--but changed his
+expression as he met Mose's eyes.
+
+"Howdy, Mose?"
+
+"So's to sit a horse," Mose replied in a tone which cut. He was not used
+to being patronized by men of Dan's set.
+
+The crowd perceived the growing rivalry between the two men and winked
+joyously at each other.
+
+At last all was arranged. The spectators were assembled on the rude
+seats. The wind, sweet, clear, and cool, came over the smooth grassy
+slopes to the west, while to the east, gorgeous as sunlit marble, rose
+the great snowy peaks with huge cumulus clouds--apparently standing on
+edge--peeping over their shoulders from behind. Mose observed them and
+mentally calculated that it would not shower till three in the
+afternoon.
+
+In the track before the judge's stand six piles of "truck," each pile
+precisely like the others, lay in a row. Each consisted of a sack of
+flour, a bundle of bacon, a bag of beans, a box, a camp stove, a pick, a
+shovel, and a tent. These were to be packed, covered with a mantle, and
+caught by "the diamond hitch."
+
+Mose laid aside hat and coat, and as the six pack horses approached,
+seized the one intended for him. Catching the saddle blanket up by the
+corners, he shook it straight, folded it once, twice--and threw it to
+the horse. The sawbuck followed it, the cinch flying high so that it
+should go clear. A tug, a grunt from the horse, and the saddle was on.
+Unwinding the sling ropes, he made his loops, and end-packed the box.
+Against it he put both flour and beans. Folding the tent square he laid
+it between. On this he set the stove, and packing the smaller bags
+around it, threw on the mantle. As he laid the hitch and began to go
+around the pack, the crowd began to cheer:
+
+"Go it, Mose!"
+
+"He's been there before."
+
+"Well, I guess," said another.
+
+Mose set his foot to the pack and "pinched" the hitch in front. Nothing
+remained now but the pick, shovel, and coffee can. The tools he crowded
+under the ropes on either side, tied the cans under the pack at the back
+and called Kintuck, "Come on, boy." The old horse with shining eyes drew
+near. Catching his mane, Mose swung to the saddle, Kintuck nipped the
+laden cayuse, and they were off while the next best man was still
+worrying over the hitch.
+
+"Nine dollars to the good on that transaction," muttered Mose, as the
+marshal handed him a ten dollar gold piece.
+
+"The next exercise on the programme," announced Haney, "will be the
+roping contest. The crowd will please be as quiet as possible while this
+is going on. Bring on your cows."
+
+Down the track in a cloud of dust came a bunch of cattle of all shapes
+and sizes. They came snuffing and bawling, urged on by a band of
+cowboys, while a cordon of older men down the track stopped and held
+them before the judge's stand.
+
+"First exercise--'rope and hold,'" called the marshal. "Denver Dan comes
+first."
+
+Dan spurred into the arena, his rope swinging gracefully in his supple
+up-raised wrist.
+
+"Which one you want?" he asked.
+
+"The line-back yearling," called Haney.
+
+With careless cast Dan picked up both hind feet of the calf--his horse
+set his hoofs and held the bawling brute.
+
+"All right," called the judge. The rope was slackened and the calf
+leaped up. Dan then successively picked up any foot designated by the
+marshal. "Left hind foot! Right fore foot!" and so on with almost
+unerring accuracy. His horse, calm and swift, obeyed every word and
+every shift of his rider's body. The crowd cheered, and those who came
+after added nothing to the contest.
+
+Mose rode into the inclosure with impassive face. He could only
+duplicate the deeds of those who had gone before so long as his work was
+governed by the marshal--but when, as in the case of others, he was free
+to "put on frills," he did so. Tackling the heaviest and wildest steer,
+he dropped his rope over one horn and caught up one foot, then taking a
+loose turn about his pommel he spoke to Kintuck. The steer reached the
+end of the rope with terrible force. It seemed as if the saddle must
+give way--but the strain was cunningly met, and the brute tumbled and
+laid flat with a wild bawl. While Kintuck held him Mose took a cigar
+from his pocket, bit the end off, struck a match and puffed carelessly
+and lazily. It was an old trick, but well done, and the spectators
+cheered heartily.
+
+After a few casts of almost equal brilliancy, Mose leaped to the ground
+with the rope in his hand, and while Kintuck looked on curiously, he
+began a series of movements which one of Delmar's Mexicans had taught
+him. With the noose spread wide he kept it whirling in the air as if it
+were a hoop. He threw it into the air and sprang through it, he lowered
+it to the ground, and leaping into it, flung it far above his head. In
+his hand this inert thing developed snakelike action. It took on loops
+and scallops and retained them, apparently in defiance of all known laws
+of physics--controlled and governed by the easy, almost imperceptible
+motions of his steel-like wrist.
+
+"Forty-five dollars more to the good," said Mose grimly as the decision
+came in his favor.
+
+"See here--going to take all the prizes?" asked one of the judges.
+
+"So long as you keep to my line of business," replied he.
+
+The races came next. Kintuck took first money on the straightaway dash,
+but lost on the long race around the pole. It nearly broke his heart,
+but he came in second to Denver Dan's sorrel twice in succession.
+
+Mose patted the old horse and said: "Never mind, old boy, you pulled in
+forty dollars more for me."
+
+Reynolds had tears in his eyes as he came up.
+
+"The old hoss cain't compete on the long stretches. He's like a
+middle-aged man--all right for a short dash--but the youngsters have the
+best wind--they get him on the mile course."
+
+In the trained pony contest the old horse redeemed himself. He knelt at
+command, laid out flat while Mose crouched behind, and at the word "Up!"
+sprang to his feet and waited--then with his master clinging to his
+mane he ran in a circle or turned to right or left at signal. All the
+tricks which the cavalry had taught their horses, Mose, in years on the
+trail, had taught Kintuck. He galloped on three legs and waltzed like a
+circus horse. He seemed to know exactly what his master said to him.
+
+A man with a big red beard came up to Mose as he rode off the track and
+said:
+
+"What'll you take for that horse?"
+
+Mose gave him a savage glance. "He ain't for sale."
+
+The broncho-busting contest Mose declined.
+
+"How's that?" inquired Haney, who hated to see his favorite "gig back"
+at a point where his courage could be tested.
+
+"I've busted all the bronchos for fun I'm going to," Mose replied.
+
+Dan called in a sneering tone: "Bring on your varmints. I'm not dodgin'
+mean cayuses to-day."
+
+Mose could not explain that for Mary's sake he was avoiding all danger.
+There was risk in the contest and he knew it, and he couldn't afford to
+take it.
+
+"That's all right!" he sullenly replied. "I'll be with you later in the
+game."
+
+A wall-eyed roan pony, looking dull and stupid, was led before the
+stand. Saddled and bridled he stood dozing while the crowd hooted with
+derision.
+
+"Don't make no mistake!" shouted Haney; "he's the meanest critter on the
+upper fork."
+
+A young lad named Jimmy Kincaid first tackled the job, and as he ran
+alongside and tried the cinch, the roan dropped an ear back--the ear
+toward Jimmy, and the knowing ones giggled with glee. "He's wakin'up!
+Look out, Jim!"
+
+The lad gathered the reins in his left hand, seized the pommel with his
+right, and then the roan disclosed his true nature. He was an old rebel.
+He did not waste his energies on common means. He plunged at once into
+the most complicated, furious, and effective bucking he could devise,
+almost without moving out of his tracks--and when the boy, stunned and
+bleeding at the nose, sprawled in the dust, the roan moved away a few
+steps and dozed, panting and tense, apparently neither angry nor
+frightened.
+
+One of the Reynolds gang tried him next and "stayed with him" till he
+threw himself. When he arose the rider failed to secure his stirrups and
+was thrown after having sat the beast superbly. The miners were warming
+to the old roan. Many of them had never seen a pitching broncho before,
+and their delight led to loud whoops and jovial outcries.
+
+"Bully boy, roan! Shake 'em off!"
+
+Denver Dan tried him next and sat him, haughtily contemptuous, till he
+stopped, quivering with fatigue and reeking with sweat.
+
+"Oh, well!" yelled a big miner, "that ain't a fair shake for the pony;
+you should have took him when he was fresh." And the crowd sustained him
+in it.
+
+"Here comes one that is fresh," called the marshal, and into the arena
+came a wicked-eyed, superbly-fashioned black roan horse, plainly wild
+and unbroken, led by two cowboys, one on either side.
+
+Joe Grassi shook a handfull of bills down at the crowd. "Here's a
+hundred dollars to the man who'll set that pony three minutes by the
+watch."
+
+"This is no place to tackle such a brute as that," said Reynolds.
+
+Mose was looking straight ahead with a musing look in his eyes.
+
+Denver Dan walked out. "I need that hundred dollars; nail it to a post
+for a few minutes, will ye?"
+
+This was no tricky old cow pony, but a natively vicious, powerful, and
+cunning young horse. While the cowboys held him Dan threw off his coat
+and hat and bound a bandanna over the bronchos's head and pulled it down
+over his eyes. Laying the saddle on swiftly, but gently, he cinched it
+strongly. With determined and vigorous movement, he thrust the bit into
+his mouth.
+
+"Slack away!" he called to the ropers. The horse, nearly dead for lack
+of breath, drew a deep sigh.
+
+Haney called out: "Stand clear, everybody, clear the road!"
+
+And casting one rope to the ground, Dan swung into the saddle.
+
+For just an instant the horse crouched low and waited--then shot into
+the air with a tigerish bound and fell stiff-legged. Again and again he
+flung his head down, humped his back, and sprang into the air grunting
+and squealing with rage and fear. Dan sat him, but the punishment made
+him swear. Suddenly the horse dropped and rolled, hoping to catch his
+rider unawares. Dan escaped by stepping to the ground, but he was white,
+and the blood was oozing slowly from his nose. As the brute arose, Dan
+was in the saddle. With two or three tremendous bounds, the horse flung
+himself into the air like a high-vaulting acrobat, landing so near the
+fence that Dan, swerving far to the left, was unseated, and sprawled low
+in the dust while the squealing broncho went down the track bucking and
+lashing out with undiminished vigor.
+
+Dan staggered to his feet, stunned and bleeding. He swore most terrible
+oaths that he would ride that wall-eyed brute if it took a year.
+
+"You've had your turn. It was a fair fight," called Kelly.
+
+"Who's the next ambitious man?" shouted Haney.
+
+"I don't want no truck with that," said the cowboys among themselves.
+
+"Not in a place like this," said Jimmy. "A feller's liable to get mashed
+agin a fence."
+
+Mose stood with hands gripping a post, his eyes thoughtful. Suddenly he
+threw off his coat.
+
+"I'll try him," he said.
+
+"Oh, I don't think you'd better; it'll bung you all up," cautioned
+Reynolds.
+
+Mose said in a low voice: "I'm good for him, and I need that money."
+
+"Let him breathe awhile," called the crowd as the broncho was brought
+back, lariated as before. "Give him a show for his life."
+
+Mose muttered to Reynolds: "He's due to bolt, and I'm going to quirt him
+a-plenty."
+
+The spectators, tense with joy, filled the air with advice and warning.
+"Don't let him get started. Keep him away from the fence."
+
+Mose wore a set and serious look as he approached the frenzied beast.
+There was danger in this trick--a broken leg or collar bone might make
+his foolhardiness costly. In his mind's eye he could foresee the
+broncho's action. He had escaped down the track once, and would do the
+same again after a few desperate bounds--nevertheless Mose dreaded the
+terrible concussion of those stiff-legged leapings.
+
+Standing beside the animal's shoulder he slipped off the ropes and swung
+to the saddle. The beast went off as before, with three or four terrible
+buck jumps, but Mose plied the quirt with wild shouting, and suddenly,
+abandoning his pitching, the horse set off at a tearing pace around the
+track. For nearly half way he ran steadily--then began once more to hump
+his back and leap into the air.
+
+"He's down!" yelled some one.
+
+"No, he's up again--and Mose is there," said Haney.
+
+The crowd, not to be cheated of their fun, raced across the oval where
+the battle was still going on.
+
+The princess was white with anxiety and ordered her coachman to "Get
+there quick as God'll let ye." When she came in sight the horse was
+tearing at Mose's foot with his teeth.
+
+"Time's up!" called Haney.
+
+"Make it ten," said Mose, whose blood was hot.
+
+The beast dropped and rolled, but arose again under the sting of the
+quirt and renewed his frenzied attack. As Mose roweled him he kicked
+with both hind feet as if to tear the cinch from his belly. He reared on
+his toes and fell backward. He rushed with ferocious cunning against the
+corral, forcing his rider to stand in the opposite stirrup, then bucked,
+keeping so close to the fence that Mose was forced to hang to his mane
+and fight him from tearing his flesh with his savage teeth. Twice he
+went down and rolled over, but when he arose Mose was on his back. Twice
+he flung himself to the earth, and the second time he broke the bridle
+rein, but Mose, catching one piece, kept his head up while he roweled
+him till the blood dripped in the dust.
+
+At last, after fifteen minutes of struggle, the broncho again made off
+around the track at a rapid run. As he came opposite the judge's stand
+Mose swung him around in a circle and leaped to the ground, leaving the
+horse to gallop down the track. Dusty, and quivering with fatigue, Mose
+walked across the track and took up his coat.
+
+"You earned your money, Mose," said Grassi, as he handed out the roll of
+bills.
+
+"I'll think so to-morrow morning, I reckon," replied Mose, and his walk
+showed dizziness and weakness.
+
+"You've had the easy end of it," said Dan. "You should have took him
+when I did, when he was fresh."
+
+"You didn't stay on him long enough to weaken him any," said Mose in
+offensive reply, and Dan did not care to push the controversy any
+further.
+
+"That spoils my shooting now," Mose said to Haney. "I couldn't hit the
+side of a mule."
+
+"Oh, you'll stiddy up after dinner."
+
+"Good boy!" called the crisp voice of Mrs. Raimon. "Come here, I want to
+talk with you."
+
+He could not decently refuse to go to the side of her carriage. She had
+with her a plain woman, slightly younger than herself, who passed for
+her niece. The two men who came with them were in the judge's stand.
+
+Leaning over, she spoke with sudden intensity. "My God! you mustn't take
+such risks--I'm all of a quiver. You're too good a man to be killed by a
+miserable bucking broncho. Don't do it again, for my sake--if that don't
+count, for _her_ sake."
+
+And he in sudden joy and confidence replied: "That's just why I did it;
+for her sake."
+
+Her eyes set in sudden alarm. "What do you mean?"
+
+"You'll know in a day or two. I'm going to quit my job."
+
+"I know," she said with a quick indrawn breath, "you're going away.
+Who's that girl I saw you talking with to-day? Is that the one?"
+
+He laughed at her for the first time. "Not by a thousand miles."
+
+"What do you mean by that? Does she live in Chicago?"
+
+He ceased to laugh and grew a little darker of brow, and she quietly
+added: "That's none o' my business, you'd like to say. All right--say it
+isn't. But won't you get in and go down to dinner with me? I want to
+honor the champion--the Ivanhoe of the tournament."
+
+He shook his head. "No, I've promised to picnic with some old friends of
+mine."
+
+"That girl over there?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, just as you say, but you must eat with me to-night, will you?
+Come now, what do you say?"
+
+With a half promise Mose walked away toward the Reynolds' carriage--not
+without regret, for there was charm in the princess, both in her own
+handsome person and because she suggested a singular world of which he
+knew nothing. She allured and repelled at the same time.
+
+Beside the buggy Cora and Mrs. Reynolds had spread a substantial lunch,
+and in such humble company the victor of the tournament ate his dinner,
+while Dan and the rest galloped off to a saloon.
+
+"I don't know what I can do with the gun," he said in reply to a
+question from Cora. "My nerves are still on the jump; I guess I'll keep
+out of the contest--it would hurt my reputation to miss." He turned to
+Reynolds: "Capt'n, I want you to get me a chance to punch cattle on a
+car down to Chicago."
+
+Reynolds looked surprised. "What fur do you want to go to Chicago, Mose?
+I never have knew you to mention hit befo'."
+
+Mose felt his skin growing red. "Well, I just thought I'd like to take a
+turn in the States and see the elephant."
+
+"You'll see the hull circus if you go to Chicago," said Mrs. Reynolds.
+"They say it's a terrible wicked place."
+
+"I don't suppose it's any worse than Wagon Wheel, ma," said Cora.
+
+"Yes, but it's so much bigger."
+
+"Well, mother," said Reynolds, "a bear is bigger than a ho'net, but the
+ho'net can give him points and beat him, suah thing."
+
+Mose was rather glad of this diversion, for when Reynolds spoke again it
+was to say: "I reckon I can fix it for you. When do you want it?"
+
+"Right off, this week."
+
+"Be gone long?"
+
+Cora waited anxiously for his answer, and his hesitation and uncertainty
+of tone made her heart grow heavy.
+
+"Oh, no--only a short trip, I reckon. Got to get back before my money
+gives out."
+
+He did not intend to enter the revolver contest, but it offered so easy
+to his hand that he went in and won hands down. His arm was lame, but
+his nerves, not fevered by whisky, swiftly recovered tone. He was
+careful, however, not to go beyond the limits of the contest as he
+should have done had his arm possessed all of its proper cunning. He had
+no real competitor but Dan, who had been drinking steadily all day and
+was unfitted for his work. Mose lost nothing in the trial.
+
+That night he put into his pocket one hundred and twenty dollars as the
+result of his day's work, and immediately asked to be released of his
+duties as guard.
+
+The manager of the Express Company said: "I'm sorry you're leaving us,
+and I hope you'll return to us soon. I'll hold the place open for you,
+if you say so."
+
+This Mose refused. "I don't like it," he said. "I don't think I earn the
+money. Hire a good driver and he'll have no trouble. You don't need
+me."
+
+Mindful of his promise to eat dinner with the princess, he said to
+Reynolds: "Don't wait for me. Go on--I'll overtake you at Twelve Mile
+Creek."
+
+The princess had not lost sight of him for a single moment, and the
+instant he departed from his friends she drove up. "You are to come to
+my house to-night, remember."
+
+"I must overtake my folks; I can't stay long," he said lamely.
+
+Her power was augmented by her home. He had expected pictures and fine
+carpets and a piano and they were there, but there was a great deal
+more. He perceived a richness of effect which he could not have
+formulated better than to say, "It was all _fine_." He had expected
+things to be costly and gay of color, but this mysterious fitness of
+everything was a marvel to one like himself, used only to the meager
+ornaments of the homes in Rock River, or the threadbare poverty of the
+ranches and the squalid hotels of the cow country. The house was a large
+new frame building, not so much different from other houses with respect
+to exterior, but as he entered the door he took off his hat to it as he
+used to do as a lad in the home of Banker Brooks, deacon in his father's
+church.
+
+His was a sensitive soul, eye and ear were both acute. He perceived,
+without accounting for it, that the walls and hangings were
+complementary in color, that the furniture matched the carpet, and that
+the pictures on the wall were unusually good. They were not all
+highly-colored, naked subjects, as he had been led to expect. His
+respect for Mrs. Raimon rose, for he remembered that Mary's home, while
+just as different from this as Mary was different from Mrs. Raimon, had,
+after all, something in common--both were beautiful to him, though
+Mary's home was sweeter, daintier, and homelier. He was in the midst of
+an analysis of these subtleties when Mrs. Raimon (as he now determined
+to call her) returned from changing her dress.
+
+He was amazed at the change in her. She wore a dark gray gown with
+almost no ornament, and looked smaller, older, and paler, but
+incomparably more winning and womanly than she had ever seemed before.
+She appeared to be serious and her voice was gentle and winning.
+
+"Well, boy, here you are--under my roof. Not such an awful den after
+all, is it?" she said with a smile.
+
+"Beats a holler log in a snowstorm," he replied, looking about the room.
+"Must have shipped all this truck from the States, it never was built
+out here--it would take me a couple of months to earn a whole outfit
+like this, wouldn't it?"
+
+She remained serious. "Mose, I want to tell you----"
+
+"Wait a minute," he interrupted; "let's start fair. My name is Harold
+Excell, and I'm going to call you Mrs. Raimon."
+
+She thrust out her hand. "Good boy!" He could see she was profoundly
+pleased. Indeed she could not at once resume. At last she said: "I was
+going to say, Harold, that you can't earn a home trailin' around over
+these mountains year after year with a band of Indians."
+
+He became thoughtful. "I reckon you're right about that. I'm wasting
+time; I've got to picket old Kintuck somewhere and go to work if I----"
+
+He stopped abruptly and she smiled mournfully. "You needn't hesitate;
+tell me all about it."
+
+He sat in silence--a silence that at last became a rebuke. She arose.
+"Well, suppose we go out to supper; we can talk all the better there."
+
+He felt out of place and self-conscious, but he gave little outward sign
+of it as he took his seat at the table opposite her. For reasons of her
+own she emphasized the domestic side of her life and fairly awed the
+stern youth by her womanly dignity and grace. The little table was set
+for two, with pretty dishes. Liquor had no place on the cover, but a
+shining tea-pot, brought in by a smiling negress, was placed at her
+right hand. Her talk for a time was of the tea, the food, his taste as
+to sugar and other things pertaining to her duties as hostess. All his
+lurid imaginings of her faded into the wind, and a thousand new and old
+conceptions of wife and home and peaceful middle age came thronging like
+sober-colored birds. If she were playing a game it was well done and
+successful. Mose fell often into silence and deep thought.
+
+She respected his introspection, and busying herself with the service
+and with low-voiced orders to the waitress, left him free for a time.
+
+Suddenly she turned. "You mustn't judge me by what people say outside.
+Judge me by what I am to you. I don't claim to be a Sunday-school
+teacher, but I average up pretty well, after all. I appear to a
+disadvantage. When Raimon died I took hold of his business out here and
+I've made it pay. I have a talent for business, and I like it. I've got
+enough to be silly with if I want to, but I intend to take care of
+myself--and I may even marry again. I can see you're deeply involved in
+a love affair, Mose, and I honestly want to help you--but I shan't say
+another word about it--only remember, when you need help you come to
+Martha Jane Williams Raimon. How is that for a name? It's mine; my
+father was Lawrence Todd Williams, Professor of Paleontology at Blank
+College. Raimon was an actor of the tenth rate--the kind that play
+leading business in the candlestick circuit. Naturally Doctor Todd
+objected to an actor as a son-in-law. I eloped. Launt was a good fellow,
+and we had a happy honeymoon, but he lost his health and came out here
+and invested in a mine. That brought me. I was always lucky, and we
+struck it--but the poor fellow didn't live long enough to enjoy it. You
+know all," she ended with a curious forced lightness of utterance.
+
+After another characteristic silence, Mose said slowly: "Anyhow, I want
+you to understand that I'm much obliged for your good will; I'm not
+worth a cuss at putting things in a smooth way; I think I'm getting
+worse every day, but you've been my friend, and--and there's no discount
+on my words when I tell you you've made me feel ashamed of myself
+to-day. From this time on, I take no other man's judgment of a woman.
+You know my life--all there is that would interest you. I don't know how
+to talk to a woman--any kind of a woman--but no matter what I say, I
+don't mean to do anybody any harm. I'm getting a good deal like an
+Indian--I talk to make known what's on my mind. Since I was seventeen
+years of age I've let girls pretty well alone. The kind I meet alongside
+the trail don't interest me. When I was a boy I was glib enough, but I
+know a whole lot less now than I did then--that is about some things.
+What I started to say is this: I'm mighty much obliged for what you've
+done for me here--but I'm going to pull out to-night----"
+
+"Not for good?" she said.
+
+"Well--that's beyond me. All I know is I hit the longest and wildest
+trail I ever entered. Where it comes out at I don't know. But I shan't
+forget you; you've been a good friend to me."
+
+Her voice faltered a little as she said: "I wish you'd write to me and
+let me know how you are?"
+
+"Oh, don't expect that of me. I chew my tongue like a ten-year-old kid
+when I write. I never was any good at it, and I'm clear out of it now.
+The chances are I'll round up in the mountains again; I can't see how
+I'd make a living anywhere else. If I come back this way I'll let you
+know."
+
+Neither of them was eating now, and the tension was great. She knew that
+no artifice could keep him, and he was aware of her emotion and was
+eager to escape.
+
+He pushed back his chair at last, and she arose and came toward him and
+took his hand, standing so close to him that her bosom almost touched
+his shoulder.
+
+"I hate to see you go!" she said, and the passionate tremor in her voice
+moved him very deeply. "You've brought back my interest in simple
+things--and life seems worth while when I'm with you."
+
+He shook her hand and then dropped it. "Well, so long."
+
+"So long!" she said, and added, with another attempt at brightness, "and
+don't stay away too long, and don't fail to let me know when you make
+the circuit."
+
+As he mounted his horse he remembered that there was another good-by to
+speak, and that was to Cora.
+
+"I wish these women would let a man go without saying good-by at all,"
+he thought in irritation, but the patter of Kintuck's feet set his
+thought in other directions. As he topped the divide, he drew rein and
+looked at the great range to the southeast, lit by the dull red light of
+the sun, which had long since set to the settlers in the valley. His
+heart was for a moment divided. The joys of the trail--the care-free
+life--perhaps after all the family life was not for him. Perhaps he was
+chasing a mirage. He was on the divide of his life. On one side were the
+mountains, the camps, the cattle, the wild animals--on the other the
+plains, the cities, and Mary.
+
+The thought of Mary went deep. It took hold of the foundations of his
+thinking and decided him. Shuddering with the pain and despair of his
+love he lifted rein and rode down into the deep shadow of the long cañon
+through which roared the swift waters of the North Fork on their long
+journey to the east and south. Thereafter he had no uncertainties. Like
+the water of the cañon he had but to go downward to the plain.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE EAGLE ADVENTURES INTO STRANGE LANDS
+
+
+It can not be said that the Black Eagle of the Rocky Mountains
+approached civilization in any heroic disguise. At its best,
+accompanying a cattle train is not epic in its largeness. To prod cattle
+by means of a long pole, to pull out smothered sheep, are not in
+themselves degrading deeds, but they are not picturesque in quality.
+They smell of the shambles, not of the hills.
+
+Day by day the train slid down the shining threads of track like a long
+string of rectangular green and brown and yellow beads. The caboose was
+filled with cattlemen and their assistants, who smoked, talked politics,
+told stories, and slept at all hours of the day, whenever a spare
+segment of bench offered. Those who were awake saw everything and
+commented on everything in sight. To some the main questions were when
+and where they were to get dinner or secure a drink. The train, being a
+"through freight," ran almost as steadily as a passenger train, and the
+thirsty souls became quite depressed or savage at times by lack of
+opportunities to "wet their whistles."
+
+Mose was singularly silent, for he was reliving his boyish life on the
+plains and noting the changes which had taken place. The towns had grown
+gray with the bleach of the weather. Farms had multiplied and fences cut
+the range into pasture lands. As the mountains sank beneath the level
+horizon line his heart sank with them. Every hour of travel to the East
+was to him dangerous, disheartening. On the second day he was ready to
+leap from the caboose and wave it good-by; but he did not--he merely sat
+on the back platform and watched the track. He felt as if he were in one
+of those aerial buckets which descend like eagles from the mines in the
+Marshall Basin; the engine appeared to proceed eastward of its own
+weight, impossible to check or turn back.
+
+The uncertainty of finding Mary in the millions of the city weakened his
+resolution, but as he was aboard, and as the train slid while he
+pondered, descending, remorselessly, he determined to "stay with it" as
+he would with a bucking broncho.
+
+Kansas City with its big depot sheds filled with clangor and swarming
+with emigrants gave him a foretaste of Chicago. Two of his companions
+proceeded to get drunk and became so offensive that he was forced to
+cuff them into quiet. This depressed him also--he had no other defense
+but his hands. His revolvers were put away in his valise where they
+could not be reached in a hurry. Reynolds had said to him, "Now, Mose,
+you're going into a country where they settle things with fists, so
+leave your guns at home. Keep cool and don't mix in where there's no
+call to mix in. If a man gives you lip--walk off and leave him--don't
+hunt your guns."
+
+Mose had also purchased a "hard" hat and shaved off his mustache in
+Cañon City, and Reynolds himself would not have known him as he
+sauntered about the station room. Every time he lifted his fingers to
+his mustache he experienced a shock, and coming before a big mirror over
+the fireplace he stared with amazement--so boyish and so sorrowful did
+he appear to himself. It seemed as though he were playing a part.
+
+As the train drew out of the town, night was falling and the East grew
+mysterious as the thitherward side of the river of death. Familiar
+things were being left behind. Uncertainties thickened like the
+darkness. All night long the engine hooted and howled and jarred along
+through the deep darkness, and every time the train stopped the cattle
+and sheep were inspected. Lanterns held aloft disclosed cattle being
+trampled to death and sheep smothering. Wild shouting, oaths, broke
+forth accompanied by thumpings, and the rumbling and creaking of cars as
+the cattle surged to and fro, and at the end, circles of fire--lanterns
+signaling "Go ahead"--caused a wild rush for the caboose.
+
+Morning brought to light a land of small farms, with cattle in minute
+pastures, surrounded by stacks of hay and grain, plowed fields,
+threshing crews, and teams plodding to and fro on dusty roads. The
+plainsman was gone, the prairie farmer filled the landscape. Towns
+thickened and grew larger. At noon the freight lay at a siding to let
+the express trains come in at a populous city, and in the wait Mose
+found time to pace the platform. The people were better dressed, the
+cowboy hat was absent, and nearly everybody wore not merely a coat but a
+vest and linen collar. Some lovely girls looking crisp as columbines or
+plains' poppies looked at him from the doors of the parlor cars. They
+suggested Mary to him, of course, and made him realize how far he was
+getting from the range.
+
+These dainty girls looked and acted like some of those he had seen in
+Cañon City and the Springs. They walked with the same step and held
+their dresses the same way. That must be the fashion, he thought. The
+men of the town were less solemn than plainsmen, they smiled oftener
+and they joked more easily. Mose wondered how so many of them made a
+living in one place. He heard one girl say to another, "Yes--but he's
+awful sad looking, don't you think so?" and it was some minutes before
+he began to understand that they were talking about him. Then he wished
+he knew what else they had said.
+
+There was little chance to see the towns for the train whirled through
+them with furious jangle of bell and whiz of steam--or else drew up in
+the freight yard a long way out from the station. When night fell on
+this, the third day, they were nearing the Great River and all the
+cattlemen were lamenting the fact. Those who had been over the line
+before said:
+
+"Too bad, fellers! You'd ought to see the Mississippi, she's a loo-loo.
+The bridge, too, is worth seein'."
+
+During the evening there was a serious talk about hotels and the
+amusements to be had. One faction, led by McCleary, of Currant Creek,
+stood for the "Drovers' Home." "It's right out near the stockyards an'
+it's a good place. Dollar a day covers everything, unless you want a big
+room, which is a quarter extra. Grub is all right--and some darn nice
+girls waitin' on the table, too."
+
+But Thompson who owned the sheep was contemptuous. "I want to be in
+town; I don't go to Chicago to live out in the stockyards; I want to be
+where things go by. I ante my valise at the Grand Palace or the New
+Merchants'; the best is good enough for me."
+
+McCleary looked a little put down. "Well, that's all right for a man who
+can afford it. I've got a big family and I wouldn't feel right to be
+blowing in two or three dollars a day just for style."
+
+"Wherever the girls are thickest, there's where you'll find me," said
+one of the young fellows.
+
+"That's me," said another.
+
+Thompson smiled with a superior air. "You fellers'll bring up down on
+South Clark Street before you end. Some choice dive on the levee is
+gappin' for you. Now, mind you, I won't bail you out. You go into the
+game with your eyes open," he said, and his banter was highly pleasing
+to the accused ones.
+
+McCleary turned to Harold, whom he knew only as "Hank," and said:
+
+"Hank, you ain't sayin' a word; what're your plans?"
+
+"I'll stay with you as long as you need me."
+
+"All right; I'll take care o' you then."
+
+Night fell before they came in sight of the city. They were woefully
+behindhand and everything delayed them. After a hundred hesitations
+succeeded by fierce forward dashes, after switching this way and that,
+they came to a final halt in a jungle of freight cars, a chaos of
+mysterious activities, and a dense, hot, steaming atmosphere that
+oppressed and sickened the men from the mountains. Lanterns sparkled and
+looped and circled, and fierce cries arose. Engines snorted in sullen
+labor, charging to and fro, aimlessly it appeared. And all around cattle
+were bawling, sheep were pleading for release, and swine lifted their
+piercing protests against imprisonment.
+
+"Here we are, in Chicago!" said McCleary, who always entered the city on
+that side. "Now, fellers, watch out for yourselves. Keep your hands on
+your wallets and don't blow out the electric light."
+
+"Oh, you go to hell," was their jocular reply.
+
+"We're no spring chickens."
+
+"You go up against this town, my boys, and you'll think you're just out
+o' the shell."
+
+Mose said nothing. He had the indifferent air of a man who had been
+often to the great metropolis and knew exactly what he wished to do.
+
+It was after twelve o'clock when the crowd of noisy cattlemen tramped
+into the Drovers' Home, glad of a safe ending of their trip. They were
+all boisterous and all of them were liquorous except Harold, who drank
+little and remained silent and uncommunicative. He had been most
+efficient in all ways and McCleary was grateful and filled with
+admiration of him. He had taken him without knowing who he was, merely
+because Reynolds requested it, but he now said:
+
+"Hank, you're a jim-dandy; I want you. When you've had your spree here,
+you come back with me and I'll do the right thing by ye."
+
+Harold thanked him in offhand phrase and went early to bed.
+
+He had not slept in a hotel bed since the night in Marmion when Jack was
+with him, and the wonderful charm and mystery and passion of those two
+days, so intimately wrought in with passionate memories of Mary, came
+back upon him now, keeping him awake till nearly dawn. He arose late and
+yet found only McCleary at breakfast; the other men had remained so long
+in the barroom that sleep and drunkenness came together.
+
+After breakfast Harold wandered out into the street. To his left a
+hundred towers of dull gray smoke rose, and prodigious buildings set in
+empty spaces were like the cliffs of red stone in the Quirino. Beyond,
+great roofs thickened in the haze, farther on in that way lay Chicago,
+and somewhere in that welter, that tumult, that terror of the unknown,
+lived Mary.
+
+With McCleary he took a car that galloped like a broncho, and started
+for the very heart of the mystery. As the crowds thickened, as the cars
+they met grew more heavily laden, McCleary said:
+
+"My God! Where are they all goin'? How do they all make a livin'?"
+
+"That beats me," said Harold. "Seems as if they eat up all the grub in
+the world."
+
+The older man sighed. "Well, I reckon they know what they're doin', but
+I'd hate to take my chances among 'em."
+
+If any man had told Harold before he started that he would grow
+irresolute and weak in the presence of the city he would have bitterly
+resented it, but now the mass and weight of things hitherto unimagined
+appalled and bewildered him.
+
+A profound melancholy settled over his heart as the smoke and gray light
+of the metropolis closed in over his head. For half a day he did little
+more than wander up and down Clark Street. His ears, acute as a hound's,
+took hold of every sound and attempted to identify it, just as his eyes
+seized and tried to understand the forms and faces of the swarming
+pavements. He felt his weakness as never before and it made him sullen
+and irritable. He acknowledged also the folly of thrusting himself into
+such a world, and had it not been for a certain tenacity of purpose
+which was beyond his will, he would have returned with his companions at
+the end of their riotous week.
+
+Up till the day of their going he had made no effort to find Mary but
+had merely loitered in the streets in the daytime, and at night had
+visited the cheap theaters, not knowing the good from the bad. The city
+grew each day more vast and more hateful to him. The mere thought of
+being forced to earn a living in such a mad tumult made him shudder. The
+day that McCleary started West Harold went to see him off, and after
+they had shaken hands for the last time, Harold went to the ticket
+window and handed in his return coupon to the agent, saying, "I'd like
+to have you put that aside for me; I don't want to run any chances of
+losing it."
+
+The agent smiled knowingly. "All right, what name?"
+
+"Excell, 'XL,' that's my brand."
+
+"All right, she's right here any time you want her--inside of the thirty
+days--time runs out on the fifteenth."
+
+"I savvy," said Harold as he turned away.
+
+He disposed his money about his person in four or five small wads, and
+so fortified, faced the city. To lose his little fund would be like
+having his pack mule give out in the desert, and he took every
+precaution against such a calamity.
+
+Nothing of this uncertainty and inner weakness appeared in his outward
+actions, however. No one accused him of looking like an "easy mark" or
+"a soft thing." The line of his lips and the lower of his strongly
+marked eyebrows made strangers slow of approach. He was never awkward,
+he could not be so any more than could a fox or a puma, but he was
+restless, irresolute, brooding, and gloomy.
+
+He moved down to the Occidental Grand, where he was able to secure a
+room on the top floor for fifty cents per day. His meals he picked up
+wherever he chanced to be when feeling hungry. When weary with his
+wanderings he often returned to his seat on the sidewalk before the
+hotel and watched the people pass, finding in this a melancholy
+pleasure.
+
+One evening the night clerk, a brisk young fellow, took a seat beside
+him. "This is a great corner for the girls all right. A feller can just
+about take his pick here along about eight. They're after a ticket to
+the theater and a supper. If a feller only has a few seemolleons to
+spare he can have a life worth livin'."
+
+Mose turned a curious glance upon him. "If you wanted to find a party
+in this town how would you go at it?"
+
+"Well, I'd try the directory first go-off. If I didn't find him there
+I'd write to some of his folks, if I knew any of 'em, and get a clew. If
+I didn't succeed then I'd try the police. What's his name?"
+
+Harold ignored this query.
+
+"Where could I try this directory?"
+
+"There's one right in there on the desk."
+
+"That big book?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I didn't know what that was. I thought it was a dictionary."
+
+The clerk shrieked with merriment. "The dictionary! Well, say, where
+have you been raised?"
+
+"On the range."
+
+"You mean cowboy?"
+
+"Yes; we don't need directories out there. Does that book tell where
+everybody lives?"
+
+"Well no, but most everybody shows up in it somewhere," replied the
+clerk quite soberly. It had not occurred to him that anybody could live
+outside a directory.
+
+Harold got up and went to the book which he turned over slowly, looking
+at the names. "I don't see that this helps a man much," he said to the
+clerk who came in to help him. "Here is Henry Coleman lives at 2201
+Exeter Street. Now how is a man going to find that street?"
+
+"Ask a policeman," replied the clerk, much interested. "You're not used
+to towns?"
+
+"Not much. I can cross a mountain range easier than I can find one of
+these streets."
+
+Under the clerk's supervision Harold found the Yardwells, Thomas and
+James, but Mary's name did not appear. He turned to conservatories and
+located three or four, and having made out a slip of information set
+forth. The first one he found to be situated up several flights of
+stairs and was closed; so was the second. The third was in a brilliantly
+lighted building which towered high above the street. On the eighth
+floor in a small office a young girl with severe cast of countenance
+(and hair parted on one side) looked up from her writing and coldly
+inquired:
+
+"Is there anything I can do for you?"
+
+"Is there a girl named Mary Yardwell in your school?" he asked with some
+effort, feeling a hot flush in his cheek--a sensation new to him.
+
+"I don't think so, I'll look," replied the girl with business civility.
+She thumbed a book to see and at length replied, "No, sir, there is
+not."
+
+"Much obliged."
+
+"Not at all," replied the girl calmly, resuming her work.
+
+Harold went down the steps to avoid the elevator. The next place was
+oppressive with its grandeur. A tremendous wall, cold and dark (except
+for a single row of lighted windows), loomed high overhead. In the
+center of an arched opening in this wall a white hot globe flamed,
+lighting into still more dazzling cleanliness a broad flight of marble
+steps which led by a half turn to unknown regions above. Young people
+were crowding into the elevator, girls in dainty costumes predominating.
+They seemed wondrously flowerlike and birdlike to the plainsman, and
+brought back his school days at the seminary, and the time when he was
+at ease with young people like this. He had gone far from them
+now--their happy faces made him sad.
+
+He walked up the stairway, four flights, and came to a long hall, which
+rustled and rippled and sparkled with flights of young girls--eager,
+vivid, excited, and care-free. A few men moved about like dull-coated
+robins surrounded by orioles and canary birds.
+
+A bland old man with clean-shaven mouth seemed to be the proper source
+of information, and to him Harold stepped with his question.
+
+The old man smiled. "Miss Yardwell? Yes--she is one of our most valued
+pupils. Certainly--Willy!" he called to a small boy who carried a
+livery of startling newness, "go tell Miss Yardwell a gentleman would
+like to see her."
+
+"I suppose you are from her country home?" said the old gentleman, who
+imagined a romance in this relation of a powerful and handsome young man
+to Miss Yardwell.
+
+"I am," Harold replied briefly.
+
+"Take a seat--she will be here presently."
+
+Harold took the offered seat with a sick, faint feeling at the pit of
+his stomach. The long-hoped-for event was at hand. It seemed impossible
+that Mary could be there--that she was about to stand before him. His
+mind was filled with the things he had arranged to say to her, but they
+were now in confused mass, circling and circling like the wrack of a
+boat in a river's whirlpool.
+
+He knew her far down the hall--he recognized the poise of her head and
+her walk, which had always been very fine and dignified. As she
+approached, the radiance of her dress, her beauty, scared him. She
+looked at him once and then at the clerk as if to say, "Is this the
+man?"
+
+Then Harold arose and said, "Well, Mary, here I am."
+
+For an instant she looked at him, and then a light leaped into her eyes.
+
+"Why, Harold Excell!----" she stopped abruptly as he caught her
+outstretched hands, and she remembered the sinister association of the
+name. "Why, why, I didn't know you. Where do you come from?" Her face
+was flushed, her eyes eager, searching, restless. "Come in here," she
+said abruptly, and before he had time to reply, she led him to a little
+anteroom with a cushioned wall seat, and they took seats side by side.
+
+"It is impossible!" she said, still staring at him, her bosom pulsating
+with her quickened breath. "It is not you--it can't be you," she
+whispered, "Black Mose sitting here--with me--in Chicago. You're in
+danger."
+
+"I don't feel that way."
+
+He smiled for the first time, and his fine teeth shining from his
+handsome mouth led her to say:
+
+"Your big mustaches are gone--that's the reason I didn't know you at
+once--I don't believe I like you so well----"
+
+"They'll grow again," he said; "I'm in disguise." He smiled again as if
+in a joke.
+
+Again the thought of who he really was flamed through her mind. "What a
+life you lead! How do you happen to be here? I never expected to see you
+in a city--you don't fit into a city."
+
+"I'm here because you are," he replied, and the simplicity of his reply
+moved her deeply. "I came as soon as I got your letter," he went on.
+
+"My letter! I've written only one letter, that was soon after your visit
+to Marmion."
+
+"That's the one I mean. I got it nearly four years after you wrote it. I
+hope you haven't changed since that letter."
+
+"I'm older," she said evasively. "My father died a little over a year
+ago."
+
+"I know, Jack wrote me."
+
+"Why didn't you get my letter sooner?"
+
+"I was on the trail."
+
+"On the trail! You are always on the trail. Oh, the wild life you lead!
+I saw notices of you once or twice--always in some trouble." She looked
+at him smilingly but there was sadness in her smile.
+
+"It's no fault of mine," he exclaimed. "I can't stand by and see some
+poor Indian or Chinaman bullied--and besides the papers always
+exaggerate everything I do. You mustn't condemn me till you hear my side
+of these scrapes."
+
+"I don't condemn you at all but it makes me sad," she slowly replied.
+"You are wasting your life out there in the wild country--oh, isn't it
+strange that we should sit here? My mind is so busy with the wonder of
+it I can't talk straight. I had given up ever seeing you again----"
+
+"You're not married?" he asked with startling bluntness.
+
+She colored hotly. "No."
+
+"Are you engaged?"
+
+"No," she replied faintly.
+
+"Then you're mine!" he said with a clutch upon her wrist, a masterful
+intensity of passion in his eyes.
+
+"Don't--please don't!" she said, "they will see you."
+
+"I don't care if they do!" he exultingly said; then his face darkened.
+"But perhaps you are ashamed of me?"
+
+"Oh, no, no--only----"
+
+"I couldn't blame you if you were," he said bitterly. "I'm only a poor
+devil of a mountaineer, not fit to sit here beside you."
+
+"Tell me about yourself," she hastened to say. "What have you been doing
+all these years?" She was determined to turn him from his savage
+arraignment of himself.
+
+"It won't amount to much in your eyes. It isn't worth as much to me as I
+thought it was going to be. When I found King had your promise--I hit
+the trail and I didn't care where it led, so it didn't double on itself.
+I didn't want to see or hear anything of you again. What became of
+King? Why did you turn him loose?"
+
+Her eyelids fell to shut out his gaze. "Well--after your visit I
+couldn't find courage to fulfill my promise--and so I asked him to
+release me--and he did--he was very kind."
+
+"He couldn't do anything else."
+
+"Go on with your story," she said hurriedly.
+
+As they sat thus in the corner of the little sitting room, the pupils
+and guests of the institution came and went from the cloak rooms, eyeing
+the intent couple with smiling and curious glances. Who could that dark,
+handsome young man be who held Miss Yardwell with his glittering eyes?
+The girls found something very interesting in his bronzed skin and in
+the big black hat which he held in his hands.
+
+On his part Harold did not care--he scarcely noticed these figures.
+Their whispers were as unimportant as the sound of aspen leaves, their
+footfalls as little to be heeded as those of rabbits on the pine needles
+of his camp. Before him sat the one human being in the world who could
+command him and she was absorbed in interest of his story. He grew to a
+tense, swift, eager narration as he went on. It pleased him to see her
+glow with interest and enthusiasm over the sights and sounds of the wild
+country. At last he ended.
+
+"And so--I feel as though I could settle down--if I only had you. The
+trail got lonesome that last year--I didn't suppose it would--but it
+did. After three years of it I was glad to get back to my old friends,
+the Reynolds. I thought of you every day--but I didn't listen to hear
+you sing, because I thought you were King's wife--I didn't want to hear
+about you ever--but that's all past now--I am here and you are here.
+Will you go back to the mountains with me this time?"
+
+She looked away. "Come and see me to-morrow, I must think of this. It is
+so hard to decide--our lives are so different----" She arose abruptly.
+"I must go now. Come into the concert, I'm going to sing." She glanced
+at him in a sad, half-smiling way. "I can't sing If I Were a Voice for
+you, but perhaps you'll like my aria better."
+
+As they walked along the corridor together they formed a singularly
+handsome couple. He was clad in a well-worn but neat black suit, which
+he wore with grace. His big-rimmed black hat was crushed in his left
+hand. Mary was in pale blue which became her well, and on her softly
+rounded face a thoughtful smile rested. She always walked with uncommon
+dignity, and the eyes of many young men followed her. There was
+something about her companion not quite analyzable to her city
+friends--something alien and savage and admirable.
+
+Entering the hall they found it well filled, but Mary secured a seat
+near the side door for Harold, and with a smile said, "I may not see you
+till to-morrow. Here is my address. Come up early. At three. I want a
+long talk with you."
+
+Left to himself the plainsman looked around the hall which seemed a
+splendid and spacious one to him. It was filled with ladies in beautiful
+costumes, and with men in clawhammer coats. He had seen pictures of
+evening suits in the newspapers but never before had he been privileged
+to behold live men in them. The men seemed pale and puny for the most
+part. He had never before seen ladies in low-necked dresses and one just
+before him seemed shamelessly naked, and he gazed at her in
+astonishment. He was glad Mary had more modesty.
+
+The concert interested him but did not move him. The songs were
+brilliant but without meaning. He waited with fierce impatience for Mary
+to come on, and during this wait he did an inordinate amount of
+thinking. A hundred new conceptions came into his besieged
+brain--engaging but by no means confusing him. He perceived that Mary
+was already as much a part of this high-colored life as she had been of
+the life of Marmion, quite at ease, certain of herself, and the cañon
+between them widened swiftly. She was infinitely further away from him
+than before. His cause now entirely hopeless, he had no right to ask any
+such sacrifice of her--even if she were ready to make it.
+
+As she stepped out upon the stage in the glare of the light, she seemed
+as far from him as the roseate crown of snow on Sierra Blanca, and he
+shivered with a sort of awe. Her singing moved him less than her
+delicate beauty--but her voice and the pretty way she had of lifting her
+chin thrilled him just as when he sat in the little church at Marmion.
+The flowerlike texture of her skin and the exquisite grace of her hands
+plunged him into gloom.
+
+He did not join in the generous applause which followed--he wondered if
+she would sing If I Were a Voice for him. He felt a numbness creeping
+over his limbs and he drew his breath like one in pain. Mary looked pale
+as a lily as she returned and stood waiting for the applause to die
+away. Then out over the tense audience, straight toward him, soared her
+voice quivering with emotion--she dared to sing the old song for him.
+
+Suddenly all sense of material things passed from the wild heart of the
+plainsman. He saw only the singer who stood in the center of a white
+flame. A soft humming roar was in his ears like the falling of rain
+drops on the leaves of maple trees. He remembered the pale little girl
+in the prison--this was not Mary--but she had the voice and the spirit
+of Mary----
+
+Then the song stopped! The singer went away--the white light went with
+her and the yellow glare of lamps came back. He heard the passionate
+applause--he saw Mary reappear and bow, a sad smile on her face--a smile
+which he alone could understand--her heart was full of pity for him.
+Then once more she withdrew, and staggering like one suffering from
+vertigo--the eagle-hearted youth went out of the hall and down the
+polished stairway like an outcast soul, descending from paradise into
+hell.
+
+That radiant singer was not for such as Black Mose.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+A DARK DAY WITH A GLOWING SUNSET
+
+
+The clerk at the station window was not the kindly young man who had
+received Harold's ticket for safe keeping. He knew nothing of it and
+poked around for several minutes before finding it. After glancing
+keenly at its date he threw it down and brusquely said:
+
+"Time's out on this, my friend."
+
+Harold looked at him sharply. "Oh, no, that can't be; it's a thirty-day
+trip."
+
+The agent grew irritable. "I know it is; it was good to the fifteenth;
+this is the seventeenth; the ticket is worthless."
+
+Harold took up the slip of paper and stared at it in bewilderment. The
+agent was right; he had overstayed the limit and was without five
+dollars in his pocket. He turned weak with a sudden sense of his
+helplessness and the desolation of his surroundings. He was like a man
+whose horse fails him on a desert. Taking a seat on a bench in a dark
+corner of the waiting room he gave himself up to a study of the
+situation. To be alone in the Needle Range was nothing to worry about,
+but to be alone and without money in a city scared him.
+
+For two hours he sat there, his thoughts milling like a herd of restless
+cattle, turning aimlessly around and around in their tracks. He had
+foolishly neglected his opportunity to escape, and the mountains became
+each moment more beautiful as they swiftly receded into unattainable
+distance. He had expected to be riding back into the safe and splendid
+plains country, back to friends and familiar things, and had trusted to
+the joy of his return to soften the despair of his second failure to
+take Mary back with him.
+
+It was a sorrowful thing to see the young eagle in somber dream, the man
+of unhesitating action becoming introspective. Floods of intent business
+men, gay young girls, and grizzled old farmers in groups of twos and
+threes, streamed by, dimly shadowed in his reflective eyes. All these
+people had purpose and reward in their lives; he alone was a stray, a
+tramp, with no one but old Kintuck to draw him to any particular spot or
+keep him there.
+
+"I am outside of everything," he bitterly thought. "There is nothing for
+me."
+
+Yes, there was Cora and there was little Pink--and then he thought of
+Mrs. Raimon, whose wealth and serenity of temper had a greater appeal
+than ever before. He knew perfectly well that a single word from him
+would bring her and her money to his rescue at once. But something arose
+in him which made the utterance of such a word impossible. As for Cora
+and the little one, they brought up a different emotion, and the thought
+of them at last aroused him to action.
+
+"I'll get something to do and earn money enough to go back on," he
+finally said to himself; "that's all I'm fit for, just to work by the
+day for some other man; that's my size. I've failed in everything else
+I've ever undertaken. I've no business to interfere with a girl like
+Mary. She's too high class for a hobo like me; even if I had a ranch it
+would be playing it low down on a singer like her to ask her to go out
+there. It's no use; I'm worse than a failure--I'm in a hole, and the
+first thing I've got to do is to earn money enough to get out of it."
+
+He was ashamed to go back to the little hotel to which he had said
+good-by with so much relief. It was too expensive for him, anyhow, and
+so he set to work to find one near by which came within his changed
+condition. He secured lodging at last in an old wooden shack on a side
+street not far from the station, where rooms could be had for twenty
+cents a night--in advance. It was a wretched place, filled with
+cockroaches and other insects, but it was at least a hole in which he
+could den up for a few nights when sleep overcame him. Thus fortified,
+he wandered forth into the city, which was becoming each moment more
+remorseless and more menacing in his eyes.
+
+Almost without knowing it, he found himself walking the broad pavement
+before the musical college wherein he found Mary. He had no definite
+hope of seeing her again, but that doorway was the one spot of light in
+all the weltering black chaos of the city, which now threatened him with
+hunger and cold. The awe and terror he felt were such as a city dweller
+would feel if left alone in a wild swamp filled with strange beasts and
+reptiles.
+
+After an hour's aimless walking to and fro, he returned to his bed each
+night, still revolving every conceivable plan for earning money. His
+thought turned naturally to the handling of cattle at the stockyards,
+and one morning he set forth on his quest, only to meet with a great
+surprise. He found all the world changed to him when it became known
+that he was looking for a job. When he said to the office boys, "I want
+to see the man who has charge of hiring the hands," they told him to
+wait a while in a tone of voice which he had never before encountered.
+His blood flamed hot in an instant over their calm insolence. Eventually
+he found his way into a room where a surly fat man sat writing. He
+looked up over his shoulder and snarled out:
+
+"Well, what is it? What do you want?"
+
+Harold controlled himself and replied: "I want to get a job; I'm a
+cattleman from Colorado, and I'd like----"
+
+"I don't care where you're from; we've got all the men we want. See Mr.
+White, don't come bothering me."
+
+Harold put his hand on the man's shoulder with the gesture of an angry
+leopard, and a yellow glare filled his eyes, from which the brutal boss
+shrank as if from a flame.
+
+With a powerful effort he pulled himself up short and said: "Treat the
+next cattleman that comes your way a little more decent or you'll get a
+part of your lung carried away. Good day."
+
+He walked out with the old familiar numbness in his body and the red
+flashes wavering before his eyes. His brain was in tumult. The free man
+of the mountain had come in contact with "the tyrant of labor," and it
+was well for the big beast that Harold was for the moment without his
+gun.
+
+Going back to his room he took out his revolver and loaded every
+chamber. In the set of his lips was menace to the next employer who
+dared to insult and degrade him.
+
+In the days that followed he wandered over the city, with eyes that took
+note of every group of workmen. He could not bring himself to go back to
+the stockyards, there was danger of his becoming a murderer if he did;
+and as he approached the various bosses of the gangs of men in the
+street, he found himself again and again without the resolution to touch
+his hat and ask for a job. Once or twice he saw others quite as brutally
+rebuffed as he had been, and it was only by turning away that he kept
+himself from taking a hand in an encounter. Once or twice, when the
+overseer happened to be a decent and sociable fellow, Harold, edging
+near, caught his eye and was able to address him on terms of equality;
+but in each case the talk which followed brought out the fact that men
+were swarming for every place; indeed Harold could see this for himself.
+Ultimately he fell into the ranks of poor, shivering, hollow-cheeked
+fellows who stood around wistfully watching the excavation of cellars or
+hanging with pathetic intentness above the handling of great iron beams
+or pile drivers.
+
+Work came to be a wonderful thing to possess. To put hand to a beam or a
+shovel seemed now a most desirable favor, for it meant not only warm
+food and security and shelter, but in his case it promised a return to
+the mountains which came each hour to seem the one desirable and
+splendid country in the world--so secure, so joyous, so shining, his
+heart ached with wistful love of it.
+
+Each night he walked over to the Lake shore, past the college and up the
+viaduct, till he could look out over the mysterious, dim expanse of
+water. It reminded him of the plains, and helped him with its lonely
+sweep and its serene majesty of reflected stars. At night he dreamed of
+the cattle and of his old companions on the trail; once he was riding
+with Talfeather and his band in the West Elk Mountains; once he was
+riding up the looping, splendid incline of the Trout Lake Trail, seeing
+the clouds gather around old Lizard Head. At other times he was back at
+the Reynolds ranch taking supper while the cattle bawled, and through
+the open door the light of the setting sun fell.
+
+He had written to Reynolds, asking him to buy his saddle and bridle (he
+couldn't bring himself to sell Kintuck) and each day he hoped for a
+reply. He had not stated his urgent need of money, but Reynolds would
+know. One by one every little trinket which he possessed went to pay his
+landlord for his room. He had a small nugget, which he had carried as a
+good-luck pocket-piece for many months; this he sold, and at last his
+revolvers went, and then he seemed helpless.
+
+No word from Reynolds came, and the worst of it was, if the money did
+come it would not now be enough to carry him back. If he had been able
+to put it with the money from his nugget and revolvers it would at least
+have taken him to Denver. But now it was too late.
+
+At last there came a day when he was at his last resource. He could find
+no work to do in the streets, and so, setting his teeth on his pride, he
+once more sought the stockyards and "Mr. White." It was a cold, rainy
+day, and he walked the entire distance. Weak as he was from insufficient
+food, bad air, and his depression, he could not afford to spend one cent
+for car fare.
+
+White turned out to be a very decent fellow, who knew nothing whatever
+of Harold's encounter with the other man. He had no work for him,
+however. He seemed genuinely regretful, and said:
+
+"As a matter of fact, I'm laying off men just now; you see the rush is
+pretty well over with."
+
+Harold went over to the Great Western Hotel and hung about the barroom,
+hoping to meet some one he knew, even though there was a certain risk of
+being recognized as Black Mose. Swarms of cattlemen filled the hotel,
+but they were mainly from Texas and Oklahoma, and no familiar face met
+his searching eyes. He was now so desperately homesick that he meditated
+striking one of these prosperous-looking fellows for a pass back to the
+cattle country. But each time his pride stood in the way. It would be
+necessary to tell his story and yet conceal his name--which was a very
+difficult thing to do even if he had had nothing to cover up.
+
+Late in the evening, faint with hunger, he started for his wretched bunk
+as a starving wolf returns, after an unsuccessful hunt, to his cold and
+cheerless den. His money was again reduced to a few coppers, and for a
+week he had allowed himself only a small roll three times a day. "My
+God! if I was only among the In-jins," he said savagely; "_they_
+wouldn't see a man starve, not while they had a sliver of meat to share
+with him; but these Easterners don't care; I'm no more to them than a
+snake or a horned toad."
+
+The knowledge that Mary's heart would bleed with sorrow if she knew of
+his condition nerved him to make another desperate trial. "I'll try
+again to-morrow," he said through his set teeth.
+
+On the way home his curious fatalism took a sudden turn, and a feeling
+that Reynolds' letter surely awaited him made his heart glow. It was
+impossible that he should actually be without a cent of money, and the
+thought filled his brain with an irrational exaltation which made him
+forget the slime in which his feet slipped. He planned to start on the
+limited train. "I'll go as far from this cursed hole of a city as I
+can," he said; "I'll get out where men don't eat each other to keep
+alive. He'll certainly send me twenty dollars. The silver on the bridle
+is worth that alone. Mebbe he'll understand I'm broke, and send me
+fifty."
+
+He became so sure of this at last that he stepped into a saloon and
+bought a big glass of brandy to ward off a chill which he felt coming
+upon him, and helped himself to a lunch at the counter. When he arose
+his limbs felt weak and a singular numbness had spread over his whole
+body. He had never been drunk in his life--but he knew the brandy had
+produced this effect.
+
+"I shouldn't have taken it on an empty stomach," he muttered to himself
+as he dragged his heavy limbs out of the door.
+
+When he came fairly to his senses again he was lying in his little room
+and the slatternly chambermaid was looking in at him.
+
+"You aind seek alretty?" she asked.
+
+"Go away," he said with a scowl; "you've bothered me too much."
+
+"You peen trinken--aind it. Chim help you up de stairs last nide."
+
+"What time is it?" he asked, with an effort to recall where he had been.
+
+"Tweluf o'clock," she replied, still looking at him keenly, genuinely
+concerned about him.
+
+"Go away. I must get up." As she went toward the door he sat up for a
+moment, but a terrible throbbing pain just back of his eyes threw him
+back upon his pillow as if he had met the blow of a fist. "Oh, I'm used
+up--I can't do it," he groaned, pressing his palms to his temples. "I'm
+burning up with fever."
+
+The girl came back. "Dat's vat I tought. You dond look ride. Your mudder
+vouldn't known you since you gome here. Pedder you send for your folks
+alretty."
+
+"Oh, go out--let me alone. Yes, I'll do it. I'll get up soon."
+
+When the girl returned with the proprietor of the hotel Harold was far
+past rational speech. He was pounding furiously on the door, shouting,
+"Let me out!" When they tried to open the door they found it locked. The
+proprietor, a burly German, set his weight against it and tore the lock
+off.
+
+Harold was dangerously quiet as he said: "You'd better let me out o'
+here. Them greasers are stampeding the cattle. It's a little trick of
+theirs."
+
+"Dot's all right; you go back to bed; I'll look out for dot greaser
+pisness," said the landlord, who thought him drunk.
+
+"You let me out or I'll break you in two," the determined man replied,
+and a tremendous struggle took place.
+
+Ultimately Harold was vanquished, and Schmidt, piling his huge bulk on
+the worn-out body of the young man, held him until his notion changed.
+
+"Did you ever have a tree burn up in your head?" he asked.
+
+"Pring a policeman," whispered Schmidt to the girl, "and a doctor. De
+man is grazy mit fevers; he aindt trunk."
+
+When the officer came in Harold looked at him with sternly steady eyes.
+"See here, cap, don't you try any funny business with me. I won't stand
+it; I'll shoot with you for dollars or doughnuts."
+
+"What's the matter--jim-jams?" asked the officer indifferently.
+
+"No," replied Schmidt, "I tondt pelief it--he's got some fever onto
+him."
+
+The policeman felt his pulse. "He's certainly hot enough. Who is he?"
+
+"Hank Jones."
+
+"That's a lie--I'm 'Black Mose,'" said Harold.
+
+The policeman smiled. "'Black Mose' was killed in San Juan last summer."
+
+Harold received this news gravely. "Sorry for him, but I'm the man.
+You'll find my name on my revolver, the big one--not the little one. I'm
+all the 'Black Mose' there is. If you'll give me a chance I'll rope a
+steer with you for blood or whisky; I'm thirsty."
+
+"Well now," said the policeman, "you be quiet till the doctor comes, and
+I'll go through your valise." After a hasty examination he said: "Damned
+little here, and no revolvers of any kind. Does he eat here?"
+
+"No, he only hires this room."
+
+"Mebbe he don't eat anywhere; he looks to me like a hungry man."
+
+"Dot's what I think," said the maid. "I'll go pring him some soup."
+
+The prisoner calmly said: "Too late now; my stomach is all dried up."
+
+"Haven't you any folks?" the policeman asked.
+
+Harold seemed to pause for thought. "I believe I have, but I can't
+think. Mary could tell you."
+
+"Who's Mary?"
+
+"What's that to you. Bring me some water--I'm burning dry."
+
+"Now keep quiet," said the policeman; "you're sick as a horse."
+
+When the doctor came the policeman turned Harold over to him. "This is a
+case for St. Luke's Hospital, I guess," he said as he went out.
+
+The doctor briskly administered a narcotic as being the easiest and
+simplest way to handle a patient who seemed friendless and penniless.
+"The man is simply delirious with fever. He looks like a man emaciated
+from lack of food. What do you know about him?"
+
+The landlord confessed he knew but little.
+
+The doctor resumed: "Of course you can't attend to him here. I'll inform
+the hospital authorities at once. Meanwhile, communicate with his
+friends if you can. He'll be all right for the present."
+
+This valuable man was hardly gone before a lively young fellow with a
+smoothly shaven, smiling face slipped in. He went through every pocket
+of Harold's clothing, and found a torn envelope with the name "Excell"
+written on it, and a small photo of a little girl with the words, "To
+Mose from Cora." The young man's smile became a chuckle as he saw these
+things, and he said to himself: "Nothing here to identify him, eh?"
+Then to the landlord he said; "I'm from The Star office. If anything new
+turns up I wish you'd call up Harriman, that's me, and let me in on it."
+
+The hospital authorities were not informed, or paid no attention to the
+summons, and Harold was left to the care of the chambermaid, who did her
+poor best to serve him.
+
+The Star next morning contained two columns of closely printed matter
+under the caption, "Black Mose, the Famous Dead Shot, Dying in a West
+Side Hotel. After Years of Adventure on the Trail, the Famous Desperado
+Succumbs to Old John Barley Corn." The article recounted all the deeds
+which had been ascribed to Harold and added a few entirely new ones. His
+marvelous skill with the revolver was referred to, and his defense of
+the red men and others in distress was touched upon so eloquently that
+the dying man was lifted to a romantic height of hardihood and
+gallantry. A fancy picture of him took nearly a quarter of a page and
+was surrounded by a corona of revolvers each spouting flame.
+
+Mrs. Raimon seated at breakfast in the lofty dining room of her hotel,
+languidly unfolded The Star, gave one glance, and opened the paper so
+quickly and nervously her cup and saucer fell to the floor.
+
+"My God! Can that be true? I must see him." As she read the article she
+carried on a rapid thinking. "How can I find him? I must see that
+reporter; he will know." She was a woman of decision. She arose quickly
+and returned to her room. "Call a carriage for me, quick!" she said to
+the bell boy who answered to her call. "No name is given to the hotel,
+but The Star will know. Good Heavens! if he should die!" Her florid face
+was set and white as she took her seat in the cab. "To The Star
+office--quick!" she said to the driver, and there was command in the
+slam of the door.
+
+To the city editor she abruptly said: "I want to find the man who wrote
+this article on 'Black Mose.' I want to find the hotel where he is."
+
+The editor was enormously interested at once. "Harriman is on the night
+force and at home how, but I'll see what I can do." By punching various
+bells and speaking into mysteriously ramifying tubes he was finally able
+to say: "The man is at a little hotel just across the river. I think it
+is called the St. Nicholas. It isn't a nice place; you'd better take
+some one with you. Mind you, I don't vouch for the truth of that
+article; the boy may be mistaken about it."
+
+Mrs. Raimon turned on her heel and vanished. She had her information and
+acted upon it. She was never finer than when she knelt at Harold's
+bedside and laid her hand gently on his forehead. She could not speak
+for a moment, and when her eyes cleared of their tears and she felt the
+wide, dry eyes of the man searching her, a spasm of pain contracted her
+heart.
+
+"He don't know me!" she cried to the slatternly maid, who stood watching
+the scene with deep sympathy.
+
+Harold spoke petulantly: "Go away and tell Mary I want her. It costs too
+much for her to sing, or else she'd come. These people won't let me get
+up, but Reynolds will be here soon and then something will rip wide
+open. They took my guns and my saddle. If I had old Kintuck here I could
+ride to Mary. She said she'd sing for me every Sunday. Look here, I want
+ice on my head. This pillow has been heated. I don't want a hot
+pillow--and I don't want my arms covered. Say, I wish you'd send word to
+old Jack. I don't know where he is, but he'd come--so will Reynolds.
+These policemen will have a hot time keeping me here after they come.
+It's too low here, I must take Mary away--it's healthier in the
+mountains. It ain't so hot----"
+
+Out of this stream of loosely uttered words the princess caught and held
+little more than the names "Jack" and "Mary."
+
+"Who is Jack?" she softly asked.
+
+Harold laughed. "Don't you know old freckle-faced Jack? Why, I'd know
+Jack in the dark of a cave. He's my friend--my old chum. He didn't
+forget me when they sent me to jail. Neither did Mary. She sung for me."
+
+"Can't you tell me Mary's name?"
+
+"Why, it's just Mary, Mary Yardwell."
+
+"Where does she live?"
+
+"Oh, don't bother me," he replied irritably. "What do you want to know
+for?"
+
+The princess softly persisted, and he said: "She lives in the East. In
+Chicago. It's too far off to find her. It takes five days to get down
+there on a cattle train, and then you have to look her up in a
+directory, and then trail her down. I couldn't find her."
+
+The princess took down Mary's name and sent a messenger to try to find
+the address of this woman who was more to the delirious man than all the
+rest of the world.
+
+As he tossed and muttered she took possession of the house. "Is this the
+worst room you have? Get the best bed in the house ready. I want this
+man to have the cleanest room you have. Hurry! Telephone to the Western
+Palace and ask Doctor Sanborn to come at once--tell him Mrs. Raimon
+wants him."
+
+Under her vigorous action one of the larger rooms was cleared out and
+made ready, and when the doctor came Harold was moved, under his
+personal supervision. "I shall stay here till he is out of danger," she
+said to the doctor as he was leaving, "and please ask my maid to go out
+and get some clean bed linen and bring it down here at once--and tell
+her to send Mr. Doris here, won't you?"
+
+The doctor promised to attend to these matters at once.
+
+She sat by the bedside of the sufferer bathing his hands and face as if
+he were a child, talking to him gently with a mother's grave cadences.
+He was now too weak to resist any command, and took his medicine at a
+gulp like a young robin.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Late in the afternoon as Mrs. Raimon returned from an errand to the
+street she was amazed to find a tall and handsome girl sitting beside
+the sick man's bed holding his two cold white hands in both of hers.
+There was a singular and thrilling serenity in the stranger's face--a
+composure that was exaltation, while Harold, with half-closed eyelids,
+lay as if in awe, gazing up into the woman's face.
+
+Mrs. Raimon waited until Harold's eyes closed like a sleepy child's and
+the watcher arose--then she drew near and timidly asked:
+
+"Are you Mary?"
+
+"Yes," was the simple reply.
+
+The elder woman's voice trembled. "I am glad you've come. He has called
+for you incessantly. You must let me help you--I am Mrs. Raimon, of
+Wagon Wheel--I knew him there."
+
+Mary understood the woman's humble attitude, but she did not encourage a
+caress. She coldly replied: "I shall be very grateful. He is very ill,
+and I shall not leave him till his friends come."
+
+She thought immediately of Jack, and sent a telegram saying: "Harold is
+here ill--come at once." She did not know where to reach Mr. Excell, so
+could only wait to consult Jack.
+
+Mrs. Raimon remained with her and was so unobtrusively ready to do good
+that Mary's heart softened toward her--though she did not like her
+florid beauty and her display of jewels.
+
+A telegram from Jack came during the evening: "Do all you can for
+Harold. Will reach him to-night."
+
+He came in at eleven o'clock, his face knotted into anxious lines. They
+smoothed out as his eyes fell upon Mary, who met him in the hall.
+
+"Oh, I'm glad to see you here," he said brokenly. "How is he--is there
+any hope?"
+
+In his presence Mary's composure gave way. "O Jack! If he should die
+now----" She laid her head against his sturdy shoulder and for a moment
+shook with nervous weakness. Almost before he could speak she recovered
+herself. "He only knew me for a few moments. He's delirious again. The
+doctor is with him--oh, I can't bear to hear him rave! It is awful! He
+calls for me, and yet does not know me. O Jack, it makes my heart ache
+so, he is so weak! He came to see me--and then went away--I didn't know
+where he had gone. And all the time he was starving here. O God! It
+would be too dreadful--if he should die!"
+
+"We won't let him die!" he stoutly replied. "I'm going in to see him."
+
+Together they went in. The doctor, intently studying his patient, sat
+motionless and silent. He was a young man with a serious face, but his
+movements were quick, silent, and full of decision. He looked up and
+made a motion, stopping them where they were.
+
+Out of a low mutter at last Harold's words grew distinct: "I don't
+care--but the water is cold as ice--I wouldn't put a cayuse into it--let
+alone Kintuck. Should be a bridge here somewhere."
+
+"Oh, he's on the trail again!" said Mary. "Harold, don't you know me?"
+She bent over to him again and put forth the utmost intensity of her
+will to recall him. "I am here, Harold, don't you see me?"
+
+His head ceased to roll and he looked at her with eyes that made her
+heart grow sick--then a slow, faint smile came to his lips. "Yes--I know
+you, Mary--but the river is between us, and it's swift and cold, and
+Kintuck is thin and hungry--I can't cross now!"
+
+"Doctor," said Jack, as the physician was leaving, "what are the
+chances?"
+
+The doctor's voice carried conviction: "Oh, he'll pull through--he has
+one of the finest bodies I ever saw." He smiled. "He'll cross the river
+all right--and land on our side."
+
+Two days later Mr. Excell, big and brown, his brow also knotted with
+anxiety, entered the room, and fell on his knees and threw his long arm
+over the helpless figure beneath the coverlet. "Harry! My boy, do you
+know me?"
+
+Harold looked up at him with big staring eyes and slowly put out his
+hand. "Sure thing! And I'm not dead yet, father. I'll soon be all right.
+I've got Mary with me. She can cure me--if the doctor can't."
+
+He spoke slowly, but there was will behind the voice. His wasted face
+had a gentleness that was most moving to the father. He could not look
+at the pitiful wreck of his once proud and fearless boy without weeping,
+and being mindful of Harold's prejudice against sentiment, he left the
+room to regain his composure. To Mary Mr. Excell said: "I don't know
+you--but you are a noble woman. I give you a father's gratitude. Won't
+you tell me who you are?"
+
+"I am Mary Yardwell," she replied in her peculiarly succinct speech. "My
+home was in Marmion, but I attended school in your village. I sang in
+your church for a little while."
+
+His face lighted up. "I remember you--a pale, serious little girl. Did
+you know my son there?"
+
+She looked away for a moment. "I sang for him--when he was in jail," she
+replied. "I belonged to the Rescue Band."
+
+A shadow fell again upon the father's face.
+
+"I did not know it," he said, feeling something mysterious
+here--something which lay outside his grasp. "Have you seen him
+meanwhile? I suppose you must have done so."
+
+"Once, in Marmion, some four years ago."
+
+"Ah! Now I understand his visit to Marmion," said Mr. Excell, with a
+sudden smile. "I thought he came to see Jack and me. He really came to
+see you. Am I right?"
+
+"Yes," she replied. "He wanted me to go back with him, but
+I--I--couldn't do so."
+
+"I know--I know," he replied hastily. "He had no right to ask it of
+you--poor boy."
+
+"It seems now as though I had no right to refuse. I might have helped
+him. If he should die now there would be an incurable ache here"--she
+lifted her hand to her throat; "so long as I lived I should not forgive
+myself."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+CONCLUSION
+
+
+As he crawled slowly back to life and clear thinking, Harold's wild
+heart was filled with a peace and serenity of emotion such as it had not
+known since childhood. He was like a boy in a careless dream,
+forecasting nothing, remembering nothing, content to see Mary come and
+go about the room, glad of the sound of her skirts, thrilling under the
+gentle pressure of her hand.
+
+She, on her part, could not realize any part of his dark fame as she
+smiled down into his big yellow-brown eyes which were as pathetic and
+wistful as those of a gentle animal.
+
+Mrs. Raimon spoke of this. "I saw 'Black Mose' as he stood in the
+streets of Wagon Wheel, the most famous dead-shot in the State. I can't
+realize that this is the same man. He's gentle as a babe now; he was as
+terrible and as beautiful as a tiger then."
+
+Reynolds sent fifty dollars with an apology for the delay and Mr. Excell
+offered his slender purse, but Mrs. Raimon said: "I'll attend to this
+matter of expense. Let me do that little for him--please!" And he gave
+way, knowing her great wealth.
+
+But all these things began at last to trouble the proud heart of the
+sick man, and as he grew stronger his hours of quiet joy began to be
+broken by disquieting calculations of his indebtedness to Mrs. Raimon as
+well as to Mary and Jack. He wished to be free of all obligations, even
+gratitude. He insisted on his father's return to his pastorate--which he
+did at the end of the week.
+
+Meanwhile Mary and Jack conspired for the Eagle's good. Together they
+planned to remove him to some fairer quarter of the city. Together they
+read and discussed the letters which poured in upon them from theatrical
+managers, Wild West shows, music halls, and other similar enterprises,
+and from romantic girls and shrewd photographers, and every other
+conceivable kind of crank. The offers of the music halls Jack was
+inclined to consider worth while. "He'd be a great success there, or as
+a dead-shot in a Wild West show. They pay pretty well, too."
+
+"I don't believe he'd care to do anything like that," Mary quietly
+replied.
+
+They both found that he cared to do nothing which involved his remaining
+in the East. As his eyes grew brighter, his longing for the West came
+back. He lifted his arms above his quilts with the action of the eaglet
+who meditates leaping from the home ledge. It was a sorrowful thing to
+see this powerful young animal made thin and white and weak by fever,
+but his spirit was indomitable.
+
+"He must be moved to the West before he will fully recover," said the
+doctor, and to this Mrs. Raimon replied:
+
+"Very well, doctor. You name the day when it is safe and we'll go. I'll
+have a special car, if necessary, but first of all he must go to a good
+hotel. Can't he be moved now?"
+
+Outwardly Mary acknowledged all the kindness of this rich and powerful
+woman, but inwardly she resented her intimacy. Drawing all her little
+store of ready money she quietly began paying off the bills. When all
+was settled she took a seat beside Harold one day when they were alone
+and laying one strong, warm hand on his thin, white arm, she said:
+
+"Harold, the doctor says you can be moved from here, and so--you must
+give me the right to take you home with me."
+
+There was a piercing pathos in his wan smile as he replied, "All right,
+you're the boss. It's a pretty hard come down, though. I thought once
+I'd come back after you in a private car. If you stand by me I may be a
+cattle king yet. There's a whole lot of fight in me still--you watch me
+and see."
+
+The next day he was moved to a private hotel on the north side, and Mary
+breathed a sigh of deep relief as she saw him sink back into his soft
+bed in a clean and sunny room. He, with a touch of his old fire, said:
+"This sure beats a holler log, but all the same I'll be glad to see the
+time when I can camp on my saddle again."
+
+Mary only smiled and patted him like a mother caressing a babe. "I'll
+hate to have you go and leave me--now."
+
+"No danger of that, Mary. We camp down on the same blanket from this
+on."
+
+Mr. Excell came on to marry them, but Jack sent his best wishes by mail;
+he could not quite bring himself to see Mary give herself away--even to
+his hero.
+
+Mrs. Raimon took her defeat with most touching grace. "You're right,"
+she said. "He's yours--I know that perfectly well, but you must let me
+help him to make a start. It won't hurt him, and it'll please me. I have
+a ranch, I have mines, I could give him something to do till he got on
+his feet again, if you'd let me, and I hope you won't deny me a pleasure
+that will carry no obligation with it."
+
+She was powerfully moved as she went in to say good-by to him. He was
+sitting in a chair, but looked very pale and weak. She said: "Mose,
+you're in luck; you've got a woman who'll do you good. She's loyal and
+she's strong, and there's nothing further for me to do--unless you let
+me help you. See here, why not let me help you get a start; what do you
+say?"
+
+Harold felt the deep sincerity of the woman's regard and he said simply:
+
+"All right; let me know what you find, and I'll talk it over with Mary."
+
+She seized his thin hand in both hers and pressed it hard, the tears
+creeping down her cheeks. "You're a good boy, Mose; you're the kind that
+are good to women in ways they don't like, sometimes. I hope you'll
+forget the worst of me and remember only the best. I don't think she
+knows anything about me; if she hears anything, tell her the truth, but
+say I was better than women think."
+
+One day about ten days later a bulky letter came, addressed to "Mose
+Excell." It was from Mrs. Raimon, but contained a letter from Reynolds,
+who wrote:
+
+    "Yesterday a young Cheyenne came ridin' in here inquirin' for
+    you.  I told him you was in Chicago, sick. He brought a
+    message from old Talfeather who is gettin' scared about the
+    cattlemen. He says they're crowdin' onto his reservation, and
+    he wants you to come and help him. He wants you to talk with
+    them and to go to Washington and see the Great Father. He
+    sent this medicine and said it was to draw you to him. He
+    said he was blind and his heart was heavy because he feared
+    trouble. I went up to Wagon Wheel and saw the princess, who
+    has a big pull. She said she'd write you. Kintuck is well but
+    getting lazy."
+
+Mrs. Raimon wrote excitedly:
+
+    "DEAR FRIEND: Here is work for you to do. The agent at Sand
+    Lake has asked to be relieved and I have written Senator
+    Miller to have you appointed. He thought the idea
+    excellent. We both believe your presence will quiet the
+    cattlemen as well as Talfeather and his band. Will you
+    accept?"
+
+As Harold read, his body uplifted and his eyes grew stern. "See here,
+Mary, what do you think of this?" and he read the letter and explained
+the situation. She, too, became tense with interest, but, being a woman
+who thought before she spoke, she remained silent.
+
+Harold, after a moment, arose from his chair, gaunt and unsteady as he
+was. "That's what I'm fitted for, Mary. That solves my problem. I know
+these cattlemen, they know me. I am the white chief of Talfeather's
+people. If you can stand it to live there with me, Mary, I will go. We
+can do good; the women need some one like you to teach 'em to do
+things."
+
+Mary's altruistic nature began to glow. "Do you think so, Harold? Could
+I be of use?"
+
+"Of use? Why, Mary, those poor squaws and their children need you worse
+than they need a God. I know, for I've lived among 'em."
+
+"Then I will go," she said, and out of the gray cloud the sun broke and
+shone from the west across the great lonely plains.
+
+Again "Black Mose" rode up the almost invisible ascent toward the Rocky
+Mountains. Again he saw the mighty snow peaks loom over the faintly
+green swells of the plain, but this time he left nothing behind. The
+aching hunger was gone out of his heart for beside him Mary sat, eager
+as he to see the wondrous mountain land whose trails to her were script
+of epic tales, and whose peaks were monuments to great dead beasts and
+mysterious peoples long since swept away by the ruthless march of the
+white men.
+
+If she had doubts or hesitations she concealed them, for hers was a
+nature fitted for such sacrifice as this--and besides, each day
+increased her love for the singular and daring soul of Harold Excell.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Eagle's Heart, by Hamlin Garland
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Eagle's Heart, by Hamlin Garland.
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Eagle's Heart, by Hamlin Garland
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Eagle's Heart
+
+Author: Hamlin Garland
+
+Release Date: April 29, 2007 [EBook #21255]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EAGLE'S HEART ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class='figcenter' style='width: 400px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'>
+<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
+<span class='caption'>HE DREW REIN AND LOOKED AT THE GREAT RANGE TO THE SOUTHEAST.</span>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<table style="margin: auto; border: black 1px solid; width: 400px;" summary=""><tr><td>
+<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 220%; margin-top: 30px;">THE</p>
+<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 220%; margin-bottom: 60px;">EAGLE&#8217;S HEART</p>
+<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 120%; letter-spacing: .1em;">HAMLIN GARLAND</p>
+<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 100%; margin-bottom: 100px;">SUNSET EDITION</p>
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center;"><img src="images/illus-emb.png" alt="" style="margin-bottom: 100px;" /></div>
+<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 110%;">HARPER &amp; BROTHERS</p>
+<p class="titlepage" style="font-size: 90%; margin-bottom: 40px;">NEW YORK AND LONDON</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<p style="text-align: center; font-size: smaller;">COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY HAMLIN GARLAND</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<h2 class="toc"><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>Contents</h2>
+
+<div style="font-variant: small-caps">
+<table border="0" width="500" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto">
+<col style="width:15%;" />
+<col style="width:5%;"  />
+<col style="width:70%;" />
+<col style="width:10%;" />
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="4" align="center"><br />PART I</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">I</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">His youth</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#HIS_YOUTH">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">II</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">His love affairs</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#HIS_LOVE_AFFAIRS">11</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">III</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The young eagle strikes</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_STRIKES">23</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">IV</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The trial</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_TRIAL">35</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">V</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The eagle's eyes grow dim</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_EAGLES_EYES_GROW_DIM">51</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">VI</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The cage opens</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_CAGE_OPENS">72</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">VII</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">On the wing</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#ON_THE_WING">83</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">VIII</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The upward trail</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_UPWARD_TRAIL">96</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">IX</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">War on the Cannon Ball</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#WAR_ON_THE_CANNON_BALL">123</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">X</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The young eagle mounts</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_MOUNTS">143</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">XI</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">On the round-up</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#ON_THE_ROUND-UP">157</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="4" align="center"><br />PART II</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">XII</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The young eagle flutters the dove-cote</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_FLUTTERS_THE_DOVE-COTE">175</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">XIII</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The young eagle dreams of a mate</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_DREAMS_OF_A_MATE">199</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">XIV</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The young eagle returns to his eyrie</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_RETURNS_TO_HIS_EYRIE">220</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="4" align="center"><br />PART III</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">XV</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The eagle completes his circle</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_EAGLE_COMPLETES_HIS_CIRCLE">233</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">XVI</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">Again on the round-up</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#AGAIN_ON_THE_ROUND-UP">250</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">XVII</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">Mose returns to Wagon Wheel</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#MOSE_RETURNS_TO_WAGON_WHEEL">265</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">XVIII</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The eagle guards the sheep</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_EAGLE_GUARDS_THE_SHEEP">283</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">XIX</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">The eagle adventures into strange lands</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#THE_EAGLE_ADVENTURES_INTO_STRANGE_LANDS">316</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">XX</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">A dark day with a glowing sunset</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#A_DARK_DAY_WITH_A_GLOWING_SUNSET">339</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td valign="top" align="right">XXI</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td valign="top" align="left">Conclusion</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CONCLUSION">363</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<h2><a class="pagenum" title="1" name="page_1" id="page_1"></a>THE EAGLE&#8217;S HEART</h2>
+<h2>PART I</h2>
+
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="HIS_YOUTH" id="HIS_YOUTH"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER I</h2>
+<h3>HIS YOUTH</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Harold was about ten years of age when his father, the Rev. Mr. Excell,
+took the pastorate of the First Church in Rock River. Many of the people
+in his first congregation remarked upon "the handsome lad." The clear
+brown of his face, his big yellow-brown eyes, his slender hands, and the
+grace of his movements gave him distinction quite aside from that
+arising from his connection with the minister.</p>
+
+<p>Rev. John Excell was a personable man himself. He was tall and broad
+shouldered, with abundant brown hair and beard, and a winning smile. His
+eyes were dark and introspective, but they could glow like sunlit topaz,
+or grow dim with tears, as his congregation had opportunity to observe
+during this first sermon&mdash;but they were essentially sad eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Excell, a colorless little woman
+<a class="pagenum" title="2" name="page_2" id="page_2"></a>
+who retained only the dim outline
+of her girlhood's beauty, sat gracelessly in her pew, but her
+stepdaughter, Maud, by her side, was carrying to early maturity a dainty
+grace united with something strong and fine drawn from her father. She
+had his proud lift of the head.</p>
+
+<p>"What a fine family!" whispered the women from pew to pew under cover of
+the creaking fans.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of the first sermon, a boy seated in front of Harold gave a
+shrill whoop of agony and glared back at the minister's son with
+distorted face, and only the prompt action on the part of both mothers
+prevented a clamorous encounter over the pew. Harold had stuck the head
+of a pin in the toe of his boot and jabbed his neighbor in the calf of
+the leg. It was an old trick, but it served well.</p>
+
+<p>The minister did not interrupt his reading, but a deep flush of hot
+blood arose to his face, and the lids of his eyes dropped to shut out
+the searching gaze of his parishioners, as well as to close in a red
+glare of anger. From that moment Harold was known as "that preacher's
+boy," the intention being to convey by significant inflections and a
+meaning smile that he filled the usual description of a minister's
+graceless son.</p>
+
+<p>Harold soon became renowned in his own world. He had no hard-fought
+battles, though he had scores of quarrels, for he scared his opponents
+by the suddenness and the intensity of his rage, which was fairly
+demoniacal in fury.</p>
+
+<p>"You touch me and I'll <i>kill you</i>," he said in a low voice to the fat
+boy whose leg he had jabbed, and his bloodless fac<a class="pagenum" title="3" name="page_3" id="page_3"></a>e and blazing eyes
+caused the boy to leap frenziedly away. He carried a big knife, his
+playmates discovered, and no one, not even youths grown to man's
+stature, cared to attempt violence with him. One lad, struck with a
+stone from his cunning right hand, was carried home in a carriage.
+Another, being thrown by one convulsive effort, fell upon his arm,
+breaking it at the elbow. In less than a week every boy in Rock River
+knew something of Harry Excell's furious temper, and had learned that it
+was safer to be friend than enemy to him.</p>
+
+<p>He had his partisans, too, for his was a singularly attractive nature
+when not enraged. He was a hearty, buoyant playmate, and a good scholar
+five days out of six, but he demanded a certain consideration at all
+times. An accidental harm he bore easily, but an intentional
+injury&mdash;that was flame to powder.</p>
+
+<p>The teachers in the public school each had him in turn, as he ran
+rapidly up the grades. They all admired him unreservedly, but most of
+them were afraid of him, so that he received no more decisive check than
+at home. He was subject to no will but his own.</p>
+
+<p>The principal was a kind and scholarly old man, who could make a boy cry
+with remorse and shame by his Christlike gentleness, and Harold also
+wept in his presence, but that did not prevent him from fairly knocking
+out the brains of the next boy who ann<a class="pagenum" title="4" name="page_4" id="page_4"></a>oyed him. In his furious, fickle
+way he often defended his chums or smaller boys, so that it was not easy
+to condemn him entirely.</p>
+
+<p>There were rumors from the first Monday after Harold's pin-sticking
+exploit that the minister had "lively sessions" with his boy. The old
+sexton privately declared that he heard muffled curses and shrieks and
+the sound of blows rising from the cellar of the parsonage&mdash;but this
+story was hushed on his lips. The boy admittedly needed thrashing, but
+the deacons of the church would rather not have it known that the
+minister used the rod himself.</p>
+
+<p>The rumors of the preacher's stern measures softened the judgment of
+some of the townspeople, who shifted some of the blame of the son to the
+shoulders of the sire. Harry called his father "the minister," and
+seemed to have no regard for him beyond a certain respect for his
+physical strength. When boys came by and raised the swimming sign he
+replied, "Wait till I ask 'the minister.'" This was considered "queer"
+in him.</p>
+
+<p>He ignored his stepmother completely, but tormented his sister Maud in a
+thousand impish ways. He disarranged her neatly combed hair. He threw
+mud on her dress and put carriage grease on her white stockings on
+picnic day. He called her "chiny-thing," in allusion to her pretty<a class="pagenum" title="5" name="page_5" id="page_5"></a> round
+cheeks and clear complexion, and yet he loved her and would instantly
+fight for her, and no one else dared tease her or utter a word to annoy
+her. She was fourteen years of age when Mr. Excell came to town, and at
+sixteen considered herself a young lady. As suitors began to gather
+about her, they each had a vigorous trial to undergo with Harold; it was
+indeed equivalent to running the gantlet. Maud was always in terror of
+him on the evenings when she had callers.</p>
+
+<p>One day he threw a handful of small garter snakes into the parlor where
+his sister sat with young Mr. Norton. Maud sprang to a chair screaming
+wildly, while her suitor caught the snakes and threw them from the
+window just as the minister's tall form darkened the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the matter?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Maud, eager to shield Harry, said: "Oh, nothing much, papa&mdash;only one of
+Harry's jokes."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me," said the minister to the young man, who, with a painful smile
+on his face, stammeringly replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Harry thought he'd scare me, that's all. It didn't amount to much."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="6" name="page_6" id="page_6"></a></p>
+<p>"I insist on knowing the truth, Mr. Norton," the minister sternly
+insisted.</p>
+
+<p>As Norton described the boy's action, Mr. Excell's face paled and his
+lips set close. His eyes became terrible to meet, and the beaded sweat
+of his furious anger stood thick on his face. "Thank you," he said with
+ominous calmness, and turning without another word, went to his study.</p>
+
+<p>His wife, stealing up, found the door locked and her husband walking the
+floor like a roused tiger. White and shaking with a sort of awe, Mrs.
+Excell ran down to the kitchen where Harold crouched and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Harold, dear, you'd better go out to Mr. Burns' right away."</p>
+
+<p>Harold understood perfectly what she meant and fled. For hours neither
+Mrs. Excell nor Maud spoke above a whisper. When the minister came down
+to tea he made no comment on Harry's absence. He had worn out his
+white-hot rage, but was not yet in full control of himself.</p>
+
+<p>He remained silent, and kept his eyes on his plate during the meal.</p>
+
+<p>The last time he had punished Harold the scene narrowly escaped a tragic
+ending. When the struggle ended Harold <a class="pagenum" title="7" name="page_7" id="page_7"></a>lay on the floor, choked into
+insensibility.</p>
+
+<p>When he had become calm and Harold was sleeping naturally in his own
+bed, the father knelt at his wife's knee and prayed God for grace to
+bear his burden, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Mary, keep us apart when we are angry. He is like me: he has my
+fiendish temper. No matter what I say or do, keep us apart till I am
+calm. By God's grace I will never touch his flesh again in anger."</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless he dared not trust himself to refer to the battles which
+shamed them all. The boy was deeply repentant, but uttered no word of
+it. And so they grew ever more silent and vengeful in their intercourse.</p>
+
+<p>Harold early developed remarkable skill with horses, and once rode in
+the races at the County Fair, to the scandal of the First Church. He not
+only won the race, but was at once offered a great deal of money to go
+with the victor to other races. To his plea the father, with deep-laid
+diplomacy, replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; study hard this year and next year you may go." But the boy
+was just at the age to take on weight rapidly, and by the end of the
+year was too heavy, and the owner of the horse refused to repeat his
+offer. Harold did not fail to remark how he had been cheated, but said
+nothing more of his wish to be a jockey.<a class="pagenum" title="8" name="page_8" id="page_8"></a></p>
+
+<p>He was also fond of firearms, and during his boyhood his father tried in
+every way to keep weapons from him, and a box in his study contained a
+contraband collection of his son's weapons. There was a certain pathos
+in this little arsenal, for it gave evidence of considerable labor on
+the boy's part, and expressed much of buoyant hope and restless energy.</p>
+
+<p>There were a half-dozen Fourth of July pistols, as many cannons for
+crackers, and three attempts at real guns intended to explode powder and
+throw a bullet. Some of them were "toggled up" with twine, and one or
+two had handles rudely carved out of wood. Two of them were genuine
+revolvers which he had managed to earn by working in the harvest field
+on the Burns' farm.</p>
+
+<p>From his fifteenth year he was never without a shotgun and revolver. The
+shotgun was allowed, but the revolver was still contraband and kept
+carefully concealed. On Fourth of July he always helped to fire the
+anvil and fireworks, for he was deft and sure and quite at home with
+explosives. He had acquired great skill with both gun and pistol as
+early as his thirteenth year, and his feats of marksmanship came now and
+then to the ears of his father.</p>
+
+<p>The father and son were in open warfare. Harold submitted to every
+command outwardly, but inwardly vowed to break all restraint which he
+considered useless or unjust.</p>
+
+<p>His great a<a class="pagenum" title="9" name="page_9" id="page_9"></a>mbition was to acquire a "mustang pony," for all the
+adventurous spirits of the dime novels he had known carried revolvers
+and rode mustangs. He did not read much, but when he did it was always
+some tale of fighting. He was too restless and active to continue at a
+book of his own accord for any length of time, but he listened
+delightedly to any one who consented to read for him. When his sister
+Maud wished to do him a great favor and to enjoy his company (for she
+loved him dearly) she read Daredevil Dan, or some similar story, while
+he lay out on his stomach in the grass under the trees, with restless
+feet swinging like pendulums. At such times his face was beautiful with
+longing, and his eyes became dark and dreamy. "I'm going there, Beauty,"
+he would say as Maud rolled out the word <i>Colorado</i> or <i>Brazos</i>. "I'm
+going there. I won't stay here and rot. I'll go, you'll see, and I'll
+have a big herd of cattle, too."</p>
+
+<p>His gentlest moments were those spent with his sister in the fields or
+under the trees. As he grew older he became curiously tender and
+watchful of her. It pleased him to go ahead of her through the woods, to
+pilot the way, and to help her over ditches or fences. He loved to lead
+her into dense thickets and to look around and say: "There, isn't this
+wild, though? You couldn't find your way out if it wasn't for me, could
+you?" And she, to carry out the spirit of the story, always shuddered
+and said, "Don't leave me to peri<a class="pagenum" title="10" name="page_10" id="page_10"></a>sh here."</p>
+
+<p>Once, as he lay with his head in the grass, he suddenly said: "Can't you
+hear the Colorado roar?"</p>
+
+<p>The wind was sweeping over the trees, and Maud, eager to keep him in
+this gentle mood, cried: "I hear it; it is a wonderful river, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>He did not speak again for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I want to be where there is nobody west of me," he said, a look of
+singular beauty on his face. "Don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"N&mdash;no, I don't," answered Maud. "But, then, I'm a girl, you know; we're
+afraid of wild things, most of us."</p>
+
+<p>"Dot Burland isn't."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, she only pretends; she wants you to think she's brave."</p>
+
+<p>"That's a lie." He said it so savagely that Maud hastened to apologize.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="11" name="page_11" id="page_11"></a>
+<a name="HIS_LOVE_AFFAIRS" id="HIS_LOVE_AFFAIRS"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER II</h2>
+<h3>HIS LOVE AFFAIRS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Naturally a lad of this temper had his loves. He made no secret of them,
+and all the young people in the town knew his sweethearts and the
+precise time when his passion changed its course. If a girl pleased him
+he courted her with the utmost directness, but he was by no
+interpretation a love-sick youth. His likings were more in the nature of
+proprietary comradeship, and were expressed without caresses or ordinary
+words of endearment.</p>
+
+<p>His courtship amounted to service. He waited about to meet and help his
+love, he hastened to defend her and to guide her; and if the favored one
+knew her r&ocirc;le she humored his fancies, permitting him to aid her in
+finding her way across a weedy pasture lot or over a tiny little brook
+which he was pleased to call a torrent. A smile of derision was fatal.
+He would not submit to ridicule or joking. At the first jocular word his
+hands clinched and his eyes flamed with anger. His was not a face of
+laughter; for the most part it was serious in expression, and his eyes
+were rapt with dreams of great deeds.</p>
+
+<p>He had one mate to whom he talked freely, and him he chose often to be
+his companion in the woods or on the prairies. This was John Burns, son
+of a farmer who lived near the town. Harry spent nearly every Saturday<a class="pagenum" title="12" name="page_12" id="page_12"></a>
+and Sunday during the summer months on the Burns farm. He helped Jack
+during haying and harvest, and when their tasks were done the two boys
+wandered away to the bank of the river and there, under some great
+basswood tree on delicious sward, they lay and talked of wild animals
+and Indians and the West. At this time the great chieftains of the
+Sioux, Sitting Bull and Gall, were becoming famous to the world, and the
+first reports of the findings of gold in the Black Hills were being
+made. A commission appointed by President Grant had made a treaty with
+the Sioux wherein Sitting Bull was told, "If you go to this new
+reservation and leave Dakota to the settlers, you shall be unmolested so
+long as grass grows and water runs."</p>
+
+<p>But the very guard sent in to protect this commission reported "gold in
+the grass roots," and the insatiate greed of the white man broke all
+bounds&mdash;the treaty was ignored, and Sitting Bull, the last chieftain of
+the Sioux, calling his people together, withdrew deeper into the
+wilderness of Wyoming. The soldiers were sent on the trail, and the
+press teemed for months with news of battles and speeches and campaigns.</p>
+
+<p>All these exciting events Harry and his friend Jack read and discussed
+hotly. Jack was eager to own a mine. "I'd like to pick up a nugget," he
+said, but Harold was not interested. "I don't care to mine; I'd like to
+be with General Custer. I'd like to be one of the scouts. I'd like to
+have a coat like that." He pointed at one of the pictures wherein two or
+three men<a class="pagenum" title="13" name="page_13" id="page_13"></a> in fringed buckskin shirts and wide hats were galloping across
+a rocky plain.</p>
+
+<p>Many times as the two boys met to talk over these alluring matters the
+little town and the dusty lanes became exceedingly tame and commonplace.</p>
+
+<p>Harold's eyes glowed with passion as he talked to his sweetheart of
+these wild scenes, and she listened because he was so alluring as he lay
+at her feet, pouring out a vivid recital of his plans.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to stay here much longer," he said; "it's too dull. I
+can't stand much more school. If it wasn't for you I'd run away right
+now."</p>
+
+<p>Dot only smiled back at him and laid her hand on his hair. She was his
+latest sweetheart. He loved her for her vivid color, her abundant and
+beautiful hair, and also because she was a sympathetic listener. She, on
+her part, enjoyed the sound of his eager voice and the glow of his deep
+brown eyes. They were both pupils in the little seminary in the town,
+and he saw her every day walking to and from the recitation halls. He
+often carried her books for her, and in many other little ways insisted
+on serving her.<a class="pagenum" title="14" name="page_14" id="page_14"></a></p>
+
+<p>Almost without definable reason the "Wild West" came to be a land of
+wonder, lit as by some magical light. Its ca&ntilde;ons, <i>arroyos</i>, and
+mesquite, its bronchos, cowboys, Indians, and scouts filled the boy's
+mind with thoughts of daring, not much unlike the fancies of a boy in
+the days of knight errantry.</p>
+
+<p>Of the Indians he held mixed opinions. At times he thought of them as a
+noble race, at others&mdash;when he dreamed of fame&mdash;he wished to kill a
+great many of them and be very famous. Most of the books he read were
+based upon the slaughter of the "redskins," and yet at heart he wished
+to be one of them and to taste the wild joy of their poetic life, filled
+with hunting and warfare. Sitting Bull, Chief Gall, Rain-in-the-Face,
+Spotted Tail, Star-in-the-Brow, and Black Buffalo became wonder-working
+names in his mind. Every line in the newspapers which related to the
+life of the cowboys or Indians he read and remembered, for his plan was
+to become a part of it as soon as he had money enough to start.</p>
+
+<p>There were those who would have contributed five dollars each to send
+him, for he was considered a dangerous influence among the village boys.
+If a window were broken by hoodlums at night it was counted against the
+minister's son. If a melon patch were raided and the fruit scattered and
+broken, Harold was considered the ringle<a class="pagenum" title="15" name="page_15" id="page_15"></a>ader. Of the judgments of their
+elders the rough lads were well aware, and they took pains that no word
+of theirs should shift blame from Harold's shoulders to their own. By
+hints and sly remarks they fixed unalterably in the minds of their
+fathers and mothers the conception that Harold was a desperately bad and
+reckless boy. In his strength, skill, and courage they really believed,
+and being afraid of him, they told stories of his exploits, even among
+themselves, which bordered on the marvelous.</p>
+
+<p>In reality he was not a leader of these raids. His temperament was not
+of that kind. He did not care to assume direction of an expedition
+because it carried too much trouble and some responsibility. His mind
+was wayward and liable to shift to some other thing at any moment;
+besides, mischief for its own sake did not appeal to him. The real
+leaders were the two sons of the village shoemaker. They were
+under-sized, weazened, shrewd, sly little scamps, and appeared not to
+have the resolution of chickadees, but had a singular genius for getting
+others into trouble. They knew how to handle spirits like Harold. They
+dared him to do evil deeds, taunted him (as openly as they felt it safe
+to do) with cowardice, and so spurred him to attempt some trifling
+depredation merely as a piece of adventure. Almost invariably when they
+touched him on this nerve Harold responded with a rush, and when
+disco<a class="pagenum" title="16" name="page_16" id="page_16"></a>very came was nearly always among the culprits taken and branded,
+for his pride would not permit him to sneak and run. So it fell out that
+time after time he was found among the grape stealers or the melon
+raiders, and escaped prosecution only because the men of the town laid
+it to "boyish deviltry" and not to any deliberate intent to commit a
+crime.</p>
+
+<p>After his daughter married Mr. Excell made another effort to win the
+love of his son and failed. Harold cared nothing for his father's
+scholarship or oratorical powers, and never went to church after he was
+sixteen, but he sometimes boasted of his father among the boys.</p>
+
+<p>"If father wasn't a minister, he'd be one of the strongest men in this
+town," he said once to Jack. "Look at his shoulders. His arms are hard,
+too. Of course he can't show his muscle, but I tell you he can box and
+swing dumb-bells."</p>
+
+<p>If the father had known it, in the direction of athletics lay the road
+to the son's heart, but the members of the First Church were not
+sufficiently advanced to approve of a muscular minister, and so Mr.
+Excell kept<a class="pagenum" title="17" name="page_17" id="page_17"></a> silent on such subjects, and swung his dumb-bells in
+private. As a matter of fact, he had been a good hunter in his youth in
+Michigan, and might have won his son's love by tales of the wood, but he
+did not.</p>
+
+<p>For the most part, Harold ignored his father's occasional moments of
+tenderness, and spent the larger part of his time with his sister or at
+the Burns' farm.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Burns saw all that was manly and good in the boy, and they
+stoutly defended him on all occasions.</p>
+
+<p>"The boy is put upon," Mrs. Burns always argued. "A quieter, more
+peaceabler boy I never knew, except my own Jack. They're good, helpful
+boys, both of 'em, and I don't care what anybody says."</p>
+
+<p>Jack, being slower of thought and limb, worshiped his chum, whose
+alertness and resource humbled him, though he was much the better
+scholar in all routine work. He read more than Harold, but Harold seized
+upon the facts and transmitted them instantly into something vivid and
+dramatic. He assumed all leadership in the hunting, and upon Ja<a class="pagenum" title="18" name="page_18" id="page_18"></a>ck fell
+all the drudgery. He always did the reading, also, while Harold listened
+and dreamed with eyes that seemed to look across miles of peaks. His was
+the eagle's heart; wild reaches allured him. Minute beauties of garden
+or flower were not for him. The groves along the river had long since
+lost their charm because he knew their limits&mdash;they no longer appealed
+to his imagination.</p>
+
+<p>A hundred times he said: "Come, let's go West and kill buffalo.
+To-morrow we will see the snow on Pike's Peak." The wild country was so
+near, its pressure day by day molded his mind. He had no care or thought
+of cities or the East. He dreamed of the plains and horses and herds of
+buffalo and troops of Indians filing down the distant slopes. Every poem
+of the range, every word which carried flavor of the wild country, every
+picture of a hunter remained in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>The feel of a gun in his hands gave him the keenest delight, and to
+stalk geese in a pond or crows in the cornfield enabled him to imagine
+the joy of hunting the bear and the buffalo. He had the hunter's
+patience, and was capable of creeping on his knees in the mud for hours
+in the attempt to kill a duck. He could imitate almost all the birds and
+animals he knew. His whistle would call the mother grouse to him. He
+could stop the whooping of cranes in their steady flight, and his
+honking deceived the wary geese. When complimented for his skill in
+hunting he scornfully said:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's nothing. Anyone can kill sm<a class="pagenum" title="19" name="page_19" id="page_19"></a>all game; but buffaloes and
+grizzlies&mdash;they are the boys."</p>
+
+<p>During the winter of his sixteenth year a brother of Mr. Burns returned
+from Kansas, which was then a strange and far-off land, and from him
+Harold drew vast streams of talk. The boy was insatiate when the plains
+were under discussion. From this veritable cattleman he secured many new
+words. With great joy he listened while Mr. Burns spoke of <i>cinches</i>,
+ropes, corrals, <i>buttes</i>, <i>arroyos</i> and other Spanish-Mexican words
+which the boys had observed in their dime novels, but which they had
+never before heard anyone use in common speech. Mr. Burns alluded to an
+<i>aparejo</i> or an <i>arroyo</i> as casually as Jack would say "singletree" or
+"furrow," and his stories brought the distant plains country very near.</p>
+
+<p>Harold sought opportunity to say: "Mr. Burns, take me back with you; I
+wish you would."</p>
+
+<p>The cattleman looked at him. "Can you ride a horse?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack spoke up: "You bet he can, Uncle. He rode in the races."</p>
+
+<p>Burns smiled as a kin<a class="pagenum" title="20" name="page_20" id="page_20"></a>g might upon a young knight seeking an errant.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if your folks don't object, when you get done with school, and
+Jack's mother says <i>he</i> can come, you make a break for Abilene; we'll
+see what I can do with you on the 'long trail.'"</p>
+
+<p>Harold took this offer very seriously, much more so than Mr. Burns
+intended he should do, although he was pleased with the boy.</p>
+
+<p>Harold well knew that his father and mother would not consent, and very
+naturally said nothing to them about his plan, but thereafter he laid by
+every cent of money he could earn, until his thrift became a source of
+comment. To Jack he talked for hours of the journey they were to make.
+Jack, unimaginative and engrossed with his studies at the seminary, took
+the whole matter very calmly. It seemed a long way off at best, and his
+studies were pleasant and needed his whole mind. Harold was thrown back
+upon the company of his sweetheart, who was the only one else to whom he
+could talk freely.</p>
+
+<p>Dot, indolent, smiling creature of cozy corners that she was, listened
+without emotion, while Harold, with eyes ablaze, with visions of the<a class="pagenum" title="21" name="page_21" id="page_21"></a>
+great, splendid plains, said: "I'm going West sure. I'm tired of school;
+I'm going to Kansas, and I'm going to be a great cattle king in a few
+years, Dot, and then I'll come back and get you, and we'll go live on
+the banks of a big river, and we'll have plenty of horses, and go riding
+and hunting antelope every day. How will you like that?"</p>
+
+<p>Her unresponsiveness hurt him, and he said: "You don't seem to care
+whether I go or not."</p>
+
+<p>She turned and looked at him vacantly, still smiling, and he saw that
+she had not heard a single word of his passionate speech. He sprang up,
+hot with anger and pain.</p>
+
+<p>"If you don't care to listen to me you needn't," he said, speaking
+through his clinched teeth.</p>
+
+<p>She smiled, showing her little white teeth prettily. "Now, don't get
+mad, Harry; I was thinking of something else. Please tell me again."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't. I'm done with you." A big lump arose in his throat and he
+turned away to hide tears of mortified pride. He could not have put it
+into words, but he perceived the painful truth. Dot had considered him a
+boy all along, and had only half listened to his stories and plans in
+the past, deceiving him for some purpose of her own. She was a smiling,
+careless hypocrite.<a class="pagenum" title="22" name="page_22" id="page_22"></a></p>
+
+<p>"You've lied to me," he said, turning and speaking with the bluntness of
+a boy without subtlety of speech. "I never'll speak to you again;
+good-by."</p>
+
+<p>Dot kept swinging her foot. "Good-by," she said in her sweet,
+soft-breathing voice.</p>
+
+<p>He walked away slowly, but his heart was hot with rage and wounded
+pride, and every time he thought of the tone in which she said
+"Good-by," his flesh quivered. He was seventeen, and considered himself
+a man; she was eighteen, and thought him only a boy. She had never
+listened to him, that he now understood. Maud had been right. Dot had
+only pretended, and now for some reason she ceased to pretend.</p>
+
+<p>There was just one comfort in all this: it made it easier for him to go
+to the sunset country, and his wounded heart healed a little at the
+thought of riding a horse behind a roaring herd of buffaloes.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="23" name="page_23" id="page_23"></a>
+<a name="THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_STRIKES" id="THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_STRIKES"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER III</h2>
+<h3>THE YOUNG EAGLE STRIKES</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>A farming village like Rock River is one of the quietest, most humdrum
+communities in the world till some sudden upheaval of primitive passion
+reveals the tiger, the ram, and the wolf which decent and orderly
+procedure has hidden. Cases of murder arise from the dead level of
+everyday village routine like volcanic mountain peaks in the midst of a
+flowering plain.</p>
+
+<p>The citizens of Rock River were amazed and horrified one Monday morning
+to learn that Dot Burland had eloped with the clerk in the principal
+bank in the town, a married man and the leader of the choir in the First
+Church. Some of the people when they heard of it, said: "I do not
+believe it," and when they were convinced, the tears came to their eyes.
+"She was such a pretty girl, and think of Mrs. Willard&mdash;and then
+Sam&mdash;who would have supposed Sam Willard could do such a thing."</p>
+
+<p>To most of the citizens it was drama; it broke the tedious monotony of
+everyday life; it was more productive of interesting conversation than a
+case of embezzlement or the burning of the county courthouse. There were
+those who smiled while they said: "Too bad, too bad! Any p'ticlers?"</p>
+
+<p>Some of the women recalled their dislike of the lazy, pink-an<a class="pagenum" title="24" name="page_24" id="page_24"></a>d-white
+creature whom they had often seen loitering on the streets or lying day
+after day in a hammock reading "domestic novels." The young girls drew
+together and conveyed the news in whispers. It seemed to overturn the
+whole social world so far as they knew it, and some of them hastened to
+disclaim any friendship with "the dreadful thing."</p>
+
+<p>Of course the related persons came into the talk. "Poor Mrs. Willard and
+Harry Excell!" Yes, there was Harry; for a moment, for the first time,
+he was regarded with pity. "What will he do? He must take it very hard."</p>
+
+<p>At about eleven o'clock, just as the discussion had reached this
+secondary stage, where new particulars were necessary, a youth, pale and
+breathless, with his right hand convulsively clasping his bloody
+shoulder, rushed into the central drug store and fell to the floor with
+inarticulate cries of fear and pain. Out of his mouth at last came an
+astonishing charge of murderous assault on the part of Harold Excell.
+His wounds were dressed and the authorities notified to arrest his
+assailant.</p>
+
+<p>When the officers found Harold he was pacing up and down the narrow
+alley where the encounter had taken place. He was white as the dead, and
+his eyes were ablaze under his knitted brows.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what do you want of me?" he demanded, as the officer rushed up
+and laid hands upon him.<a class="pagenum" title="25" name="page_25" id="page_25"></a></p>
+
+<p>"You've killed Clint Slocum," replied the constable, drawing a pair of
+handcuffs from his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, drop those things!" replied Harold; "I'm not going to run; you
+never knew me to run."</p>
+
+<p>Half ashamed, the constable replaced the irons in his pocket and seized
+his prisoner by the arm. Harold walked along quietly, but his face was
+terrible to see, especially in one so young. In every street excited
+men, women, and children were running to see him pass. He had suddenly
+become alien and far separated from them all. He perceived them as if
+through a lurid smoke cloud.</p>
+
+<p>On most of these faces lay a smile, a ghastly, excited, pleased grin,
+which enraged him more than any curse would have done. He had suddenly
+become their dramatic entertainment. The constable gripped him tighter
+and the sheriff, running up, seized his other arm.</p>
+
+<p>Harold shook himself free. "Let me alone! I'm going along all right."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="26" name="page_26" id="page_26"></a></p>
+<p>The officers only held him the closer, and his rage broke bounds. He
+struggled till his captors swayed about on the walk, and the little boys
+screamed with laughter to see the slender youth shake the big men.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of this struggle a tall man, without hat or coat and
+wearing slippers, came running down the walk with great strides. His
+voice rang deep and clear:</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Let the boy alone!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>It was the minister. With one sweep of his right hand he tore the hands
+of the sheriff from the boy's arms; the gesture was bearlike in power.
+"What's the meaning of all this, Mr. Sawyer?" he said, addressing the
+sheriff.</p>
+
+<p>"Your boy has killed a man."</p>
+
+<p>"You lie!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's true&mdash;anyhow, he has stabbed Clint Slocum. He ain't dead, but he's
+hurt bad."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that true, Harold?"</p>
+
+<p>Harold did not lift his sullen glance. "He struck me with a whip."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="27" name="page_27" id="page_27"></a></p>
+<p>There was a silence, during which the minister choked with emotion and
+his lips moved as if in silent prayer. Then he turned. "Free the boy's
+arm. I'll guarantee he will not try to escape. No son of mine will run
+to escape punishment&mdash;leave him to me."</p>
+
+<p>The constable, being a member of the minister's congregation and a
+profound admirer of his pastor, fell back. The sheriff took a place by
+his side, and the father and son walked on toward the jail. After a few
+moments the minister began to speak in a low voice:</p>
+
+<p>"My son, you have reached a momentous point in your life's history. Much
+depends on the words you use. I will not tell you to conceal the truth,
+but you need not incriminate yourself&mdash;that is the law"&mdash;his voice was
+almost inaudible, but Harold heard it. "If Slocum dies&mdash;oh, my God! My
+God!"</p>
+
+<p>His voice failed him utterly, but he walked erect and martial, the sun
+blazing on his white forehead, his hands clinched at his sides. There
+were many of his parishioners in the streets, and several of the women
+broke into bitter weeping as he passed, and many of the men imprecated
+the boy who was bringing white lines of sorrow into his father's hair.
+"This is the logical end of his lawless bringing up," said one.</p>
+
+<p>The father went on: "Tell me, my boy&mdash;tell me the truth&mdash;did you strike
+to kill? Was murder in your heart?"</p>
+
+<p>Harold did not reply. The minister laid a broad, gentle hand on his
+son's shoulder. "Tell me, Harold."</p>
+
+<p>"No; I struck to hurt him. He was striking me; I struck back," the boy
+sullenly answered.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="28" name="page_28" id="page_28"></a></p>
+<p>The father sighed with relief. "I believe you, Harold. He is older and
+stronger, too: that will count in your favor."</p>
+
+<p>They reached the jail yard gate, and there, in the face of a crowd of
+curious people, the minister bowed his proud head and put his arm about
+his son and kissed his hair. Then, with tears upon his face, he
+addressed the sheriff:</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Sheriff, I resign my boy to your care. Remember, he is but a lad,
+and he is my only son. Deal gently with him.&mdash;Harold, submit to the law
+and all will end well. I will bring mother and Maud to see you at once."</p>
+
+<p>As the gate closed on his son the minister drew a deep breath, and a cry
+of bitter agony broke from his clinched lips: "O God, O God! My son is
+lost!"</p>
+
+<p>The story of the encounter, even as it dribbled forth from Slocum,
+developed extenuating circumstances. Slocum was man grown, a big,
+muscular fellow, rather given to bullying. A heavy carriage whip was
+found lying in the alley, and this also supported Harold's story to his
+father. As told by Slocum, the struggle took place just where the alley
+from behind the parsonage came out upon the cross street.</p>
+
+<p>"I was leading a horse," said Slocum, "and I met Harry, and we got to
+talking, and something I said made him ma<a class="pagenum" title="29" name="page_29" id="page_29"></a>d, and he jerked out his knife
+and jumped at me. The horse got scared and yanked me around, and just
+then Harry got his knife into me. I saw he was in for my life and I
+threw down the whip and run, the blood a-spurting out o' me, hot as
+b'ilin' water. I was scared, I admit that. I thought he'd opened a big
+artery in me, and I guess he did."</p>
+
+<p>When this story, amplified and made dramatic, reached the ears of the
+minister, he said: "That is Clinton's side of the case. My son must have
+been provoked beyond his control. Wait till we hear his story."</p>
+
+<p>But the shadow of the prison was on Harold's face, and he sullenly
+refused to make any statement, even to his sister, who had more
+influence over him than Mrs. Excell.</p>
+
+<p>A singular and sinister change came over him as the days passed. He
+became silent and secretive and suspicious, and the sheriff spoke to Mr.
+Excell about it. "I don't understand that boy of yours. He seems to be
+in training for a contest of some kind. He's quiet enough in daytime, or
+when I'm around, but when he thinks he's alone, he races up and down
+like a lynx, and jumps and turns handsprings, and all sorts of things.
+The only person he asks to see is young Burns. I can't fathom him."</p>
+
+<p>The father lowered his eyes. He knew well that Harry did not ask for
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"If it wasn't for these suspicious actions, <a class="pagenum" title="30" name="page_30" id="page_30"></a>doctor, I'd let him have the
+full run of the jail yard, but I dassent let him have any liberties.
+Why, he can go up the side of the cells like a squirrel! He'd go over
+our wall like a cat&mdash;no doubt of it."</p>
+
+<p>The minister spoke with some effort. "I think you misread my son. He is
+not one to flee from punishment. He has some other idea in his mind."</p>
+
+<p>To Jack Burns alone, plain, plodding, and slow, Harold showed a smiling
+face. He met him with a boyish word&mdash;"Hello, Jack! how goes it?"&mdash;and
+was eager to talk. He reached out and touched him with his hands
+wistfully. "I'm glad you've come. You're the only friend I've got now,
+Jack." This was one of the morbid fancies jail life had developed; he
+thought everybody had turned against him. "Now, I want to tell you
+something&mdash;we're chums, and you mustn't give me away. These fools think
+I'm going to try to escape, but I ain't. You see, they can't hang me for
+stabbing that coward, but they'll shut me up for a year or two, and
+I've got to keep healthy, don't you see? When I get out o' this I strike
+for the West, don't you see? And I've got to be able to do a day's work.
+Look at this arm." He stripped his strong white arm for inspection.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of the excitement attending Harold's arrest, Dot's
+elopement was temporarily diminished in value, but some shrewd gossip
+connected the two events and<a class="pagenum" title="31" name="page_31" id="page_31"></a> said: "I believe Clint gibed Harry Excell
+about Dot&mdash;I just believe that's what the fight was about."</p>
+
+<p>This being repeated, not as an opinion but as the inside facts in the
+case, sentiment turned swiftly in Harold's favor. Clinton was shrewd
+enough to say very little about the quarrel. "I was just givin' him a
+little guff, and he up and lit into me with a big claspknife." Such was
+his story constantly repeated.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately for Harold, the case came to trial early in the autumn
+session. It was the most dramatic event of the year, and it was
+seriously suggested that it would be a good thing to hold the trial in
+the opera house in order that all the townspeople should be able to
+enjoy it. A cynical young editor made a counter suggestion: "I move we
+charge one dollar per ticket and apply the funds to buying a fire
+engine." Naturally, the judge of the district went the calm way of the
+law, regardless of the town's ferment of interest in the case.</p>
+
+<p>The county attorney appeared for the prosecution, and old Judge Brown
+and young Bradley Talcott defended Harold.</p>
+
+<p>Bradley knew Harold very well and the boy had a high regard for him.
+Lawyer Brown believed the boy to be a restless and dangerous spirit, but
+he said to Bradley:<a class="pagenum" title="32" name="page_32" id="page_32"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I've no doubt the boy was provoked by Clint, who is a worthless bully,
+but we must face the fact that young Excell bears a bad name. He has
+been in trouble a great many times, and the prosecution will make much
+of that. Our business is to show the extent of the provocation, and
+secondly, to disprove, so far as we can, the popular conception of the
+youth. I can get nothing out of him which will aid in his defense. He
+refuses to talk. Unless we can wring the truth out of Slocum on the
+stand it will go hard with the boy. I wish you'd see what you can do."</p>
+
+<p>Bradley went down to see Harold, and the two spent a couple of hours
+together. Bradley talked to him in plain and simple words, without any
+assumption. His voice was kind and sincere, and Harold nearly wept under
+its music, but he added very little to Bradley's knowledge of the
+situation.</p>
+
+<p>"He struck me with the whip, and then I&mdash;I can't remember much about
+it, my mind was a kind of a red blur," Harold said at last desperately.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did he strike you with the whip?"</p>
+
+<p>"I told him he was a black-hearted liar."<a class="pagenum" title="33" name="page_33" id="page_33"></a></p>
+
+<p>"What made you say that to him?" persevered Bradley.</p>
+
+<p>"Because that's what he was."</p>
+
+<p>"Did he say something to you which you resented?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;he did."</p>
+
+<p>"What was it?"</p>
+
+<p>Right there Harold closed his lips and Bradley took another tack.</p>
+
+<p>"Harry, I want you to tell me something. Did you have anything to do
+with killing Brownlow's dog?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied Harold disdainfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you have any hand in the raid on Brownlow's orchard a week later?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I was at home."</p>
+
+<p>"Did your folks see you during the evening?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I was with Jack up in the attic, reading."<a class="pagenum" title="34" name="page_34" id="page_34"></a></p>
+
+<p>"You've taken a hand in <i>some</i> of these things&mdash;raids&mdash;haven't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but I never tried to destroy things. It was all in fun."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand. Well, now, Harold, you've got a worse name than belongs
+to you, and I wish you'd just tell me the whole truth about this fight,
+and we will do what we can to help you."</p>
+
+<p>Harold's face grew sullen. "I don't care what they do with me. They're
+all down on me anyway," he slowly said, and Bradley arose and went out
+with a feeling of discouragement.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="35" name="page_35" id="page_35"></a>
+<a name="THE_TRIAL" id="THE_TRIAL"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+<h3>THE TRIAL</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The day of his trial came as a welcome change to Harold. He had no fear
+of punishment and he hated delay. Every day before his sentence began
+was a loss of time&mdash;kept him just that much longer from the alluring
+lands to the West. His father called often to see him, but the boy
+remained inexorably silent in all these meetings, and the minister went
+away white with pain. Even to his sister Harold was abrupt and harsh,
+but Jack's devotion produced in him the most exalted emotion, and he
+turned upon his loyal chum the whole force of his affectionate nature.
+He did not look up to Jack; he loved him more as a man loves his younger
+brother, and yet even to him he would not utter the words young Slocum
+had flung at him. Lawyer Talcott had asked young Burns to get at this if
+possible, for purpose of defense, but it was not possible.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="36" name="page_36" id="page_36"></a></p>
+<p>The court met on the first Tuesday in September. The day was windless
+and warm, and as Harold walked across the yard with the sheriff he
+looked around at the maple leaves, just touched with crimson and gold
+and russet, and his heart ached with desire to be free. The scent of the
+open air made his nostrils quiver like those of a deer.</p>
+
+<p>Jack met them on the path&mdash;eager to share his hero's trouble.</p>
+
+<p>"Please, sheriff, let me walk with Harry."</p>
+
+<p>"Fall in behind," the sheriff gruffly replied; and so out of all the
+town people Jack alone associated himself with the prisoner. Up the
+stairs whereon he had romped when a lad, Harold climbed spiritlessly, a
+boy no longer.</p>
+
+<p>The halls were lined with faces, everyone as familiar as the scarred and
+scratched wall of the court room, and yet all were now alien&mdash;no one
+recognized him by a frank and friendly nod, and he moved past his old
+companions with sullen and rigid face. His father met him at the door
+and walked beside him down the aisle to a seat.</p>
+
+<p>The benches were crowded, and every foot of standing space was soon
+filled. The members of the First Church were present in mass to see the
+minister enter, pale and haggard with the disgrace of his son.</p>
+
+<p>The judge, an untidy old man of great ability and probity, was in his
+seat, looking out absently over the spectators. "The next case" to him
+was <i>only</i> a case. He had grown gray in dealing with infractions of the
+law, and though kindly disposed he had grown indifferent&mdash;use had dulled
+his sympathies. His beard, yellow with tobacco stain, was still
+venerable, and his voice, deep and melodious, was impressive and
+commanding.<a class="pagenum" title="37" name="page_37" id="page_37"></a></p>
+
+<p>He was disposed to cut short all useless forms, and soon brought the
+case to vital questions. Naturally, the prosecution made a great deal of
+Harold's bad character, drawing from ready witnesses the story of his
+misdeeds. To do this was easy, for the current set that way, and those
+who had only <i>thought</i> Harold a bad boy now <i>knew</i> that he was concerned
+in all the mischief of the village.</p>
+
+<p>In rebuttal, Mr. Talcott drew out contradictory statements from these
+witnesses, and proved several alibis at points where Harold had been
+accused. He produced Jack Burns and several others to prove that Harold
+liked fun, but that he was not inclined to lead in any of the mischief
+of the town&mdash;in fact, that he had not the quality of leadership.</p>
+
+<p>He pushed young Burns hard to get him to say that he knew the words of
+insult which Slocum had used. "I think he used some girl's name," he
+finally admitted.</p>
+
+<p>"I object," shouted the prosecution, as if touched on a hidden spring.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on," said the judge to Talcott. He had become interested in the case
+at last.</p>
+
+<p>When the lawyer for the prosecution cross-examined young Burns he became
+terrible. He leaned across<a class="pagenum" title="38" name="page_38" id="page_38"></a> the table and shook his lean, big-jointed
+finger in Jack's face. "We don't want what you <i>think</i>, sir; we want
+what you know. Do you <i>know</i> that Slocum brought a girl's name into
+this?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir, I don't," replied Jack, red and perspiring.</p>
+
+<p>"That's all!" cried the attorney, leaning back in his chair with
+dramatic complacency.</p>
+
+<p>Others of Harold's companions were brow-beaten into declaring that he
+led them into all kinds of raids, and when Talcott tried to stem this
+tide by objection, the prosecution rose to say that the testimony was
+competent; that it was designed to show the dangerous character of the
+prisoner. "He is no gentle and guileless youth, y'r Honor, but a
+reckless young devil, given to violence. No one will go further than I
+in admiration of the Reverend Mr. Excell, but the fact of the son's
+lawless life can not be gainsaid."</p>
+
+<p>Slocum repeated his story on the stand and was unshaken by Bradley's
+cross-examination. Suddenly the defense said: "Stand, please."</p>
+
+<p>Slocum arose&mdash;a p<a class="pagenum" title="39" name="page_39" id="page_39"></a>owerful, full-grown man.</p>
+
+<p>Bradley nodded at Harold. "Stand also."</p>
+
+<p>"I object," shrieked the prosecution.</p>
+
+<p>"State the objection," said the judge.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep your position," said Bradley sternly. "I want the jury to compare
+you."</p>
+
+<p>As the prisoner and the witness faced each other the court room
+blossomed with smiles. Harold looked very pale and delicate beside the
+coarse, muscular hostler, who turned red and looked foolish.</p>
+
+<p>Ultimately the judge sustained the objection, but the work was done. A
+dramatic contrast had been drawn, and the jury perceived the
+pusillanimity of Slocum's story. This was the position of the defense.
+Harold was a boy, the hostler had insulted him, had indeed struck him
+with a whip. Mad with rage, and realizing the greater strength of his
+assailant, the prisoner had drawn a knife.</p>
+
+<p>In rebuttal, the prosecution made much of Harold's fierce words. He
+meant to kill. He was a dangerous boy. "Speaking with due reverence for
+his parents," the lawyer said, "the boy has been a scourge. Again and
+again he has threatened his playmates with death. These facts must
+stand. The State is willing to admit the disparity of strength, so
+artfully set forth by the defense, but it must not be forgotten that the
+boy was known to c<a class="pagenum" title="40" name="page_40" id="page_40"></a>arry deadly weapons, and that he was subject to blind
+rages. It was not, therefore, so much a question of punishing the boy as
+of checking his assaults upon society. To properly punish him here would
+have a most salutary effect upon his action in future. The jury must
+consider the case without sentiment."</p>
+
+<p>Old Brown arose after the State had finished. Everyone knew his power
+before a jury, and the room was painfully silent as he walked with
+stately tread to a spittoon and cleared his mouth of a big wad of
+tobacco. He was the old-fashioned lawyer, formal, deliberate; and though
+everybody enjoyed Bradley Talcott's powerful speech, they looked for
+drama from Brown. The judge waited patiently while the famous old lawyer
+played his introductory part. At last, after silently pacing to and fro
+for a full minute, he turned, and began in a hard, dry, nasal voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Your Honor, I'm not so sure of the reforming effect of a penitentiary.
+I question the salutary quality of herding this delicate and
+high-spirited youth with the hardened criminals of the State." His
+strident, monotonous tone, and the cynical inflections of his voice made
+the spectators shiver with emotion as under the power of a great actor.
+He paced before the judge twice before speaking again. "Your Honor,
+there is more in this case than has yet appeared. Everyone in this room
+knows that the elopement of Dorothy Burland is at the bottom of this
+affair, everyone but yourself, judge. This lad was the accepted
+sweetheart of that wayward miss. This man Slocum is one of the rough,
+loud-spoken men of the village, schooled in vice and fisticuffery. You
+can well imagine, gentlemen of the jury," he turned to them abruptly,
+"you can well imagine the kind of a greeting this town loafer would give
+this high-spirited boy on that morni<a class="pagenum" title="41" name="page_41" id="page_41"></a>ng after the night when his
+<i>inamorata</i> disappeared with a married man. The boy has in him somewhat
+of the knight of the old time, your Honor; he has never opened his lips
+in dispraise of his faithless love. He has refused to repeat the
+insulting words of his assailant. He stands to-day at a turning point of
+his life, gentlemen of the jury, and it depends on you whether he goes
+downward or upward. He has had his faith in women shaken: don't let him
+lose faith in law and earthly justice." His first gesture was on the
+word "downward," and it was superb.</p>
+
+<p>Again he paused, and when he looked up again a twinkle was in his eyes
+and his voice was softer. "As for all this chicken roasting and melon
+lifting, you well know the spirit that is in that; we all had a hand in
+such business once, every man Jack of us. The boy is no more culpable
+now than you were then. Moreover, Excell has had too much of the
+mischief of the town laid on his shoulders&mdash;more than he deserves. 'Give
+a dog a bad name and every dead sheep is laid at the door of his
+kennel.'</p>
+
+<p>&#34;However, I don't intend to review the case, y'r Honor. My colleague has
+made the main and vital points entirely clear; I intend merely to add a
+word here and <a class="pagenum" title="42" name="page_42" id="page_42"></a>there. I want you to take another look at that pale,
+handsome, poetic youth and then at that burly bully, and consider the
+folly, the idiocy, and the cowardice of the charge brought against our
+client." He waited while the contrast which his dramatic utterance made
+enormously effective was being felt; then, in a deep, melodious voice,
+touched with sadness, he addressed the judge:</p>
+
+<p>"And to you, your Honor, I want to say we are old men. You on the bench
+and I here in the forum have faced each other many times. I have
+defended many criminals, as it was my duty to do, and you have punished
+many who deserved their sentences. I have seen innocent men unable to
+prove their freedom from guilt, and I have known men who are grossly
+criminal, because of lack of evidence&mdash;these things are beyond our
+cure. We are old, your Honor: we must soon give place to younger men. We
+can not afford to leave bench and bar with the stain of injustice on our
+garments. We can not afford to start this boy on the road to hell at
+seventeen years of age."</p>
+
+<p>He stopped as abruptly as he had begun, and the room was silent for a
+long time after he had taken his seat. To Harold it seemed as though he
+and all the p<a class="pagenum" title="43" name="page_43" id="page_43"></a>eople of the room were dead&mdash;that only his brain was alive.
+Then Mrs. Excell burst into sobbing. The judge looked away into space,
+his dim eyes seeing nothing that was near, his face an impassive mask of
+colorless flesh. The old lawyer's words had stirred his blood, sluggish
+and cold with age, but his brain absorbed the larger part of his roused
+vitality, and when he spoke his voice had an unwontedly flat and dry
+sound.</p>
+
+<p>"The question for you to decide," he said, instructing the jury, "is
+whether the boy struck the blow in self-defense, or whether he assaulted
+with intent to do great bodily injury. The fact that he was provoked by
+a man older and stronger than himself naturally militates in his favor,
+but the next question is upon the boy's previous character. Did he carry
+deadly weapons? Is he at heart dangerous to his fellows? His youth
+should be in mind, but it should also be remembered that he is a lad of
+high intellectual power, older than most men of his age. I will not
+dwell upon the case; you have heard the testimony; the verdict is in
+your keeping."</p>
+
+<p>During all this period of severe mental strain Mr. Excell sat beside
+Lawyer Brown, motionless as a statue, save when now and again he leaned
+forward to whisper a suggestion. He did not look at his son, and Harold
+seldom lo<a class="pagenum" title="44" name="page_44" id="page_44"></a>oked at him. Jack Burns sat as near the prisoner as the sheriff
+would permit, and his homely, good face, and the face of the judge were
+to Harold the only spots of light in the otherwise dark room. Outside
+the voices of children could be heard and the sound of the rising wind
+in the rustling trees. Once a breeze sent a shower of yellow and crimson
+leaves fluttering in at the open window, and the boy's heart swelled
+high in his throat, and he bowed his head and sobbed. Those leaves
+represented the splendor of the open spaces to him. They were like
+messages from the crimson sunsets of the golden West, and his heart
+thrilled at the sight of them.</p>
+
+<p>It was long after twelve o'clock, and an adjournment for dinner was
+ordered. Harold was about to be led away when his father came to him and
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"Harold, would you like to have your mother and me go to dinner with
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>With that same unrelenting, stubborn frown on his face the boy replied:
+"No&mdash;let me alone."</p>
+
+<p>A hot flush swept over the preacher's face. "Very well,"<a class="pagenum" title="45" name="page_45" id="page_45"></a> he said, and
+turned away, his lips twitching.</p>
+
+<p>The jury was not long out. They were ready to report at three o'clock.
+Every seat was filled as before. The lawyers came in, picking their
+teeth or smoking. The ladies were in Sunday dress, the young men were
+accompanied by their girls, as if the trial were a dramatic
+entertainment. Those who failed of regaining their seats were much
+annoyed; others, more thrifty, had hired boys to keep their places for
+them during the noon hour, and others, still more determined, having
+brought lunches, had remained in their seats throughout the
+intermission, and were serene and satisfied.</p>
+
+<p>Harold was brought back to his seat looking less haggard. He was not
+afraid of sentence; on the contrary he longed to have the suspense end.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care what they do with me if they don't use up too much of my
+life," he said to Jack. "I'll pound rock or live in a dungeon if it will
+only shorten my sentence. I hate to think of losing time. Oh, if I had
+only gone last year!"</p>
+
+<p>The Reverend Excell came in, looming high above the crowd, his face
+still<a class="pagenum" title="46" name="page_46" id="page_46"></a> white and set. He paid no heed to his parishioners, but made his
+way to the side of Lawyer Brown. The judge mounted his bench and the
+court room came to order instantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Is the jury ready to report on the case of the State <i>vs.</i> Excell?" he
+asked in a low voice. He was informed that they were agreed. After the
+jury had taken their seats he said blandly, mechanically: "Gentlemen, we
+are ready for your verdict."</p>
+
+<p>Harold knew the foreman very well. He was a carpenter and joiner in
+whose shop he had often played&mdash;a big, bluff, good-hearted man whom any
+public speaking appalled, and who stammered badly as he read from a
+little slip of paper: "Guilty of assault with intent to commit great
+bodily injury, but recommended to the mercy of the judge." Then, with
+one hand in his breeches pocket, he added: "Be easy on him, judge; I
+believe I'd 'a' done the same."</p>
+
+<p>The spectators tittered at his abrupt change of tone, and some of the
+young people applauded. He sat down very hot and red.</p>
+
+<p>The judge did not smile or frown; his expressionless face seemed more
+like a mask than ever. When he began to speak it was as though he were
+reading something writ in huge letters on a distant wall.</p>
+
+<p>"The Court is quite sensible of the extenuating circumstances attending
+this sad case, but there are far-reaching considerations which the Court
+can not forget. Here is a youth of <a class="pagenum" title="47" name="page_47" id="page_47"></a>good family, who elects to take up a
+life filled with mischief from the start. Discipline has been lacking.
+Here, at last, he so far oversteps the law that he appears before a
+jury. It seems to the Court necessary, for this young man's own good,
+that he feel the harsh hand of the law. According to the evidence
+adduced here to-day, he has been for years beyond the control of his
+parents, and must now know the inflexible purpose of law. I have in mind
+all that can be said in his favor: his youth, the disparity of age and
+physical power between himself and his accuser, the provocation, and the
+possession of the whip by the accuser&mdash;but all these are more than
+counterbalanced by the record of mischief and violence which stands
+against the prisoner."</p>
+
+<p>There was a solemn pause, and the judge sternly said: "Prisoner, stand
+up." Harold arose. "For an assault committed upon the person of one
+Clinton Slocum, I now sentence you, Harold Excell, to one year in the
+penitentiary, and may you there learn to respect the life and property
+of your fellow-citizens."</p>
+
+<p>"Judge! I beg&mdash;&mdash;" The tall form of Mr. Excell arose, seeking to speak.</p>
+
+<p>The judge motioned him to silence.</p>
+
+<p>Brown interposed: "I hope the court will not refuse to hear the father
+of the prisoner. It would be scant justice if&mdash;&mdash;"<a class="pagenum" title="48" name="page_48" id="page_48"></a></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Excell's voice arose, harsh, stern, and quick. He spoke like the big
+man he was, firm and decided. Harold looked up at him in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"I claim the right to be heard; will the Court refuse me the privilege
+of a word?" His voice was a challenge. "I am known in this community.
+For seven years as a minister of the Gospel I have lived among these
+citizens. My son is about to be condemned to State's prison, and before
+he goes I want to make a statement here before him and before the judge
+and before the world. I understand this boy better than any of you,
+better than the mother who bore him, for I have given him the
+disposition which he bears. I have had from my youth the same murderous
+rages: I have them yet. I love my son, your Honor, and I would take him
+in my arms if I could, but he has too much of my own spirit. He
+literally can not meet me as an affectionate son, for I sacrificed his
+good-will by harsh measures while he was yet a babe. I make this
+confession in order that the Court may understand my relation to my son.
+He was born with my own temper mingled with the poetic nature of his
+mother. While he was yet a lad I beat him till he was discolored by
+bruises. Twice I would have killed him only for the intervention of my
+wife. I have tried to live down my infirmity, your Honor, and I have at
+last secured <a class="pagenum" title="49" name="page_49" id="page_49"></a>control of myself, and I believe this boy will do the same,
+but do not send him to be an associate with criminals. My God! do not
+treat him as I would not do, even in my worst moments. Give him a chance
+to reform outside State's prison. Don't fix on him that stain. I will
+not say send me&mdash;that would be foolish trickery&mdash;but I beg you to make
+some other disposition of this boy of mine. If he goes to the
+penitentiary I shall strip from my shoulders the dress of the clergyman
+and go with him, to be near to aid and comfort him during the term of
+his sentence. Let the father in you speak for me, judge. Be merciful, as
+we all hope for mercy on the great day, for Jesus' sake."</p>
+
+<p>The judge looked out over the audience of weeping women and his face
+warmed into life. He turned to the minister, who still stood before him
+with hand outstretched, and when he spoke his voice was softened and his
+eyes kindly.</p>
+
+<p>"The Court has listened to the words of the father with peculiar
+interest. The Court <i>is</i> a father, and has been at a loss to understand
+the relations existing between father and son in this case. The Court
+thinks he understands them better now. As counsel for the defense has
+said, I am an old man, soon to leave my seat upon the bench, and I do
+not intend to let foolish pride or dry legal formalities stand between
+me and the doing of justice. The jury has decided that the boy is
+guilty, but has recommended him to the mercy of the Court. The plea of
+the father<a class="pagenum" title="50" name="page_50" id="page_50"></a>
+has enlightened the Court on one or two most vital points.
+Nothing is further from the mind of the Court than the desire to do
+injury to a handsome and talented boy. Believing that the father and son
+are about to become more closely united, the Court here transmutes the
+sentence to one hundred dollars fine and six months in the county jail.
+This will make it possible for the son and father to meet often, and the
+father can continue his duties to the church. This the Court decides
+upon as the final disposition of the accused. The case is closed. Call
+the next case."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="51" name="page_51" id="page_51"></a>
+<a name="THE_EAGLES_EYES_GROW_DIM" id="THE_EAGLES_EYES_GROW_DIM"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER V</h2>
+<h3>THE EAGLE'S EYES GROW DIM</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The county jail in Cedar County was a plain, brick structure set in the
+midst of the Court House Square. Connected with it was the official
+residence of the sheriff, and brick walks ran diagonally from corner to
+corner for the convenience of citizens. Over these walks magnificent
+maples flung gorgeous banners in autumn, and it was a favorite promenade
+for the young people of the town at all seasons, even in winter.</p>
+
+<p>At times when the jail was filled with disorderly inmates these innocent
+lovers could hear the wild yells and see the insulting gestures of the
+men at the windows, but ordinarily the grounds were quiet and peaceful.
+The robins nested in the maples, the squirrels scampered from tree to
+tree, and little children tumbled about on the grass, unmindful of the
+sullen captives within the walls.</p>
+
+<p>For seven years Harold himself had played about this yard, hearing the
+wild voices of the prisoners and seeing men come and go in irons.
+<a class="pagenum" title="52" name="page_52" id="page_52"></a>
+Over these walks he had loitered with Dot&mdash;now he was one of those who clawed
+at the window bars like monkeys in a cage in order to look out at the
+sunshine of the world. The jail pallor was already on his face and a
+savage look was in his eyes. He refused to see anyone but Jack, who came
+often and whose coming saved him from despair.</p>
+
+<p>In one respect the county jail was worse, than the State's prison; it
+had nothing for its captives to do. They ate, amused themselves as best
+they could through the long day, and slept. Most of them brooded, like
+Harold, on the sunshine lost to them, and paced their cells like wild
+animals. It had, however, the advantage of giving to each man a separate
+bed at night, though during the day they occupied a common corridor.
+Some of them sang indecent songs and cursed their fellows for their
+stupidity, and fights were not uncommon.</p>
+
+<p>The jailer was inclined to allow Harold more liberty after his trial,
+but the boy said: "I'm not asking any favors from you. I'm working out a
+sentence."</p>
+
+<p>He continued his systematic exercise, eating regularly and with care in
+order that he should keep his health. He spent several hours each day
+leaping up the stairway which led from the lower cells to the upper, and
+his limbs were like bundles of steel rods. He could spring from the
+floor, catch the hand rail of the runway above, and swing himself with a
+single effort to the upper cells. Every possible combination of strength
+and agility which the slender variety of means allowed he used, and not
+one of all the prisoners cared to try muscular conclusions with him.
+Occasionally a new prisoner would experiment, but those who held over
+knew better than to "bother the kid." When a rash and doubting man tried
+it, he repented it in cotton cloth and arnica.<a class="pagenum" title="53" name="page_53" id="page_53"></a></p>
+
+<p>The only way in which Harold could be enticed into the residence part of
+the jail was by sending Jack to call upon him.</p>
+
+<p>At such times the jailer gave him plenty of time, and Harold poured
+forth his latest plans in a swift torrent. He talked of nothing but the
+West. "My sentence will be out in April," he said; "just the right time
+to go. You must make all arrangements for me, old man. You take my money
+and get these things for me. I want a six-shooter, the best you can
+find, the kind they use out on the plains, and a belt and ammunition. I
+want a valise&mdash;a good strong one; and I want you to put all my clothes
+in it&mdash;I mean my underclothes&mdash;I won't need cuffs and collars and such
+knickknacks out there. I shall never enter father's door again. Then I
+want you to be on the lookout for a chance to drive cattle for somebody
+going West. We'll find chances enough, and we'll strike for Abilene and
+your uncle's place. I haven't money enough to carry me out there on the
+train. Oh! won't it be good fun when we have a good horse apiece and go
+riding across the plains herding the longhorns! That's life, that is! If
+I'd only gone last year, out where the buffalo and the antelope are!"</p>
+
+<p>At such times the eagle's heart in the youth could scarcely endure the
+pale, cold light of the prison. For an hour after one of these talks
+with Jack he t<a class="pagenum" title="54" name="page_54" id="page_54"></a>ore around his cell like a crazed wolf, till his weary
+muscles absorbed the ache in his heart.</p>
+
+<p>During the winter the Young Men's Christian Association of the town
+organized what they called a Prison Rescue Band, which held services in
+the jail each Sunday afternoon. They were a great bore to Harold, who
+knew the members of the band and disliked most of them. He considered
+them "a little off their nut"&mdash;that is to say, fanatic. He kept his cell
+closely, and the devoted ones seldom caught a glimpse of him, though he
+was the chief object of their care. They sang Pull for the Shore, Trust
+it all with Jesus, and other well-worn Moody and Sankey hymns, and the
+leader prayed resoundingly, and then, one by one, the others made
+little talks to the prison walls. There was seldom a face to be seen.
+Muttered curses occasionally rumbled from the cells where the prisoners
+were trying to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>But the leader was a shrewd young man, and not many Sundays after his
+initial attempt the prisoners were amazed to hear female voices joining
+in the songs. Heads appeared at every door to see the girls, who stood
+timidly behind the men and sang (in quavering voices) the songs that
+persuaded to grace.<a class="pagenum" title="55" name="page_55" id="page_55"></a></p>
+
+<p>Some of these girlish messengers of mercy Harold knew, but others were
+strange to him. The seminary was in session again and new pupils had
+entered. For the most part they were colorless and plain, and the
+prisoners ceased to show themselves during the singing. Harold lay on
+his iron bed dreaming of the wild lands whose mountains he could see
+shining through his prison walls. Jack had purchased for him some
+photographs of the Rocky Mountains, and when he desired to forget his
+surroundings he had but to look on the seamless dome of Sierra Blanca or
+the San Francisco peaks, or at the image of the limpid waters of
+Trapper's Lake, and like the conjurer's magic crystal sphere, it cured
+him of all his mental maladies, set him free and a-horse.</p>
+
+<p>But one Sabbath afternoon he heard a new voice, a girl's voice, so sweet
+and tender and true he could not forbear to look out upon the singer.
+She was small and looked very pale under the white light of the high
+windows. She was singing alone, a wonderful thing in itself, and in her
+eyes was neither fear nor maidenly shrinking; she was indeed thrillingly
+absorbed and self-forgetful. There was something singular and arresting
+in the poise of her head. Her eyes seemed to look through and beyond the
+prison walls, far into some<a class="pagenum" title="56" name="page_56" id="page_56"></a> finer, purer land than any earthly feet had
+trod, and her song had a touch of genuine poetry in it:</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 2em;">"If I were a voice, a persuasive voice,<br />
+That could travel the whole earth through,<br />
+I would fly on the wings of the morning light<br />
+And speak to men with a gentle might<br />
+And tell them to be true&mdash;<br />
+If I were a voice."</p>
+
+<p>The heart of the boy expanded. Music and poetry and love were waked in
+him by the voice of this singing girl. To others she was merely simple
+and sweet; to him she was a messenger. The vibrant, wistful cadence of
+her voice when she uttered the words "And tell them to be true," dropped
+down into the boy's sullen and lonely heart. He did not look at her, but
+all the week he wondered about her. He thought of her almost
+constantly, and the words she sang lay in his ears, soothing and healing
+like some subtle Oriental balm. "On the wings of the morning light" was
+one haunting phrase&mdash;the other was, "And tell them to be true."</p>
+
+<p>The other prisoners had been touched. Only one or two ventured coarse
+remarks about her, and they were speedily silenced by the<a class="pagenum" title="57" name="page_57" id="page_57"></a>ir neighbors.
+Harold was eager to seek Jack in order to learn the girl's name, but
+Jack was at home, sick of a cold, and did not visit him during the week.</p>
+
+<p>On the following Sunday she did not come, and the singing seemed
+suddenly a bitter mockery to Harold, who sought to solace himself with
+his pictures. The second week wore away and Jack came, but by that time
+the image of the girl had taken such aloofness of position in Harold's
+mind that he dared not ask about her, even of his loyal chum.</p>
+
+<p>At last she came again, and when she had finished singing Not half has
+ever been told, some prisoner started hand clapping, and a volley of
+applause made the cells resound. The girl started in dismay, and then,
+as she understood the meaning of this noise, a beautiful flush swept
+over her face and she shrank swiftly into shadow.</p>
+
+<p>But a man from an upper cell bawled: "Sing The Voice, miss! sing The
+Voice!"</p>
+
+<p>The leader of the band said: "Sing for them, Miss Yardwell."</p>
+
+<p>Again she sang If I were a Voice, and out of the cells the prisoners
+crept, one by one, and at last Harold. She did not see him till she had
+finished the last verse, and then he stood so close to her he could have
+touched her, and his solemn dark eyes burned so strangely into her face
+that she shrank away from him in awe and terror. She knew him&mdash;no one
+else but the minister's son could be so handsome <a class="pagenum" title="58" name="page_58" id="page_58"></a>and so refined of
+feature.</p>
+
+<p>"You're that voice, miss," one of the men called out.</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," replied the others in chorus.</p>
+
+<p>The girl was abashed, but the belief that she was leading these sinners
+to a merciful Saviour exalted her and she sang again. Harold crept as
+near as he could&mdash;so near he could see her large gray eyes, into which
+the light fell as into a mountain lake. Every man there perceived the
+girl's divine purity of purpose. She was stainless as a summer cloud&mdash;a
+passionless, serene child, with the religious impulse strong within her.
+She could not have been more than seventeen years of age, and yet so
+dignified and composed was her attitude she seemed a mature woman. She
+was not large, but she was by no means slight, and though colorless, her
+pallor was not that of ill health.</p>
+
+<p>Her body resembled that of a sturdy child, straight in the back, wide in
+the waist, and meager of bosom.</p>
+
+<p>Her voice and her eyes subdued the beast in the men. An indefinable
+personal quality ran through her utterance, a sadness, a sympathy, and
+an intu<a class="pagenum" title="59" name="page_59" id="page_59"></a>itive comprehension of the sin of the world unusual in one so
+young. She had been carefully reared: that was evident in every gesture
+and utterance. Her dress was a studiously plain gray gown, not without a
+little girlish ornament at the neck and bosom. Every detail of her
+lovely personality entered Harold's mind and remained there. He had
+hardly reached the analytic stage in matters of this kind, but he knew
+very well that this girl was like her song; she could die but never
+deceive. He wondered what her first name could be; no girl like that
+would be called "Dot" or "Cad." It ought to be Lily or Marguerite. He
+was glad to hear one of the girls call her Mary.</p>
+
+<p>He gazed at her almost without ceasing, but as the other convicts did
+the same he was not observably devoted, and whenever she raised her big,
+clear eyes toward him both shrank, he from a sense of unworthiness, she
+from the instinctive fear of men which a young girl of her type has
+deep-planted within her. She studied him shyly when she dared, and after
+the first song sang only for him. She prayed for him when the Band
+knelt on the stone floor, and at night in her room she plead for him
+before God.</p>
+
+<p>The boy was smitten with a sudden sense of his crime, not in the way of
+a repentant sinner, but as one who loves a sweet and gentle woman. All
+that his father's preaching and precept could not do, all that the
+judge, jury, and prison could not do, this slip of a girl did with a
+glance of her big gray eyes and the tremor of her voice in song. All his
+misdeeds arose up suddenly as a wa<a class="pagenum" title="60" name="page_60" id="page_60"></a>ll between him and the girl singer.
+His hard heart melted. The ugly lines went out of his face and it grew
+boyish once more, but sadder than ever.</p>
+
+<p>His was not a nature to rest inactive. He poured out a hundred questions
+to Jack who could not answer half a dozen of them. "Who is she? Where
+does she live? Do you know her? Is she a good scholar? Does she go to
+church? I hope she don't talk religion. Does she go to parties? Does she
+dance?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack replied as well as he was able. "She's a queer kind of a girl. She
+don't dance or go to parties at all. She's an awful fine scholar. She
+sings in the choir. Most of the boys are afraid to speak to her, she's
+so distant. She just says 'Yes,' or 'No,' when you ask her anything.
+She's religious&mdash;goes to prayer meeting and Sunday school. About a dozen
+boys go to prayer meeting just because she goes and sings. Her folks
+live in Waverly, but she boards with her aunt, Mrs. Brown. Now, that's
+all I can tell you about her. She's in some of my classes, but I dassent
+talk to her."</p>
+
+<p>"Jack, she's the best and grandest girl I ever saw. I'm going to write
+to her."</p>
+
+<p>Jack wist<a class="pagenum" title="61" name="page_61" id="page_61"></a>fully replied: "I wish you was out o' here, old man."</p>
+
+<p>Harold became suddenly optimistic. "Never you mind, Jack. It won't be
+long till I am. I'm going to write to her to-day. You get a pencil and
+paper for me quick."</p>
+
+<p>Jack's admiration of Harold was too great to admit of any question of
+his design. He would have said no one else was worthy to tie Mary's
+shoe, for he, too, worshiped her&mdash;but afar off. He was one of those whom
+women recognize only as gentle and useful beings, plain and unobtrusive.</p>
+
+<p>He brought the pad and pencil and sat by while the letter was written.
+Harold's was not a nature of finedrawn distinctions; he wrote as he
+fought, swift and determined, and the letter was soon finished, read,
+and approved by Jack.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, don't you let anybody see you give that to her," Harold said in
+parting.</p>
+
+<p>"Trust me," Jack stanchly replied, and both felt that here was business
+of greatest importance. Jack proceeded at once to walk on the street
+which led past Mary's boarding place, and hung about the corner, in the
+hope of meeting Mary on her return from school. He knew very exactly<a class="pagenum" title="62" name="page_62" id="page_62"></a> her
+hours of recitation and at last she came, her arms filled with books,
+moving with such stately step she seemed a woman, tall and sedate. She
+perceived Jack waiting, but was not alarmed, for she comprehended
+something of his goodness and timidity.</p>
+
+<p>He took off his cap with awkward formality. "Miss Yardwell, may I speak
+with you a moment?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, Mr. Burns," she replied, quite as formally as he.</p>
+
+<p>He fell into step with her and walked on.</p>
+
+<p>"You know&mdash;my chum&mdash;" he began, breathing hard, "my chum, Harry Excell,
+is in jail. You see, he had a fight with a great big chap, Clint Slocum,
+and Clint struck Harry with a whip. Of course Harry couldn't stand that
+and he cut Clint with his knife; of course he had to do it, for you see
+Clint was big as two of him and he'd just badgered the life out of Harry
+for a month, and so they jugged Harry, and he's there&mdash;in jail&mdash;and I
+suppose you've seen him; he's a fine-looking chap, dark hair, well
+built. He's a dandy ball player and skates bully; I wish you could see
+him shoot. We're going out West together when he gets out o' jail. Well,
+he saw you and he liked you, and he wrote you a letter and wanted me to
+hand it to you when no one was looking. Here it is: hide it, quick."</p>
+
+<p>She took the letter, mechanically moved to do so by his imperative voice
+and action, and slipped it into her algebra. When she turned to speak
+Jack was<a class="pagenum" title="63" name="page_63" id="page_63"></a> gone, and she walked on, flushed with excitement, her breath
+shortened and quickened. She had a fair share of woman's love of romance
+and of letters, and she hurried a little in order that she might the
+sooner read the message of the dark-eyed, pale boy in the jail.</p>
+
+<p>It was well she did not meet Mrs. Brown as she entered, for the limpid
+gray of her eyes was clouded with emotion. She climbed the stairs to her
+room and quickly opened the note. It began abruptly:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>"DEAR FRIEND: It is mighty good of you to come and sing to us poor
+cusses in jail. I hope you'll come every Sunday. I like you. You
+are the best girl I ever saw. Don't go to my father's church, he
+ain't good enough to preach to you. I like you and I don't want
+you to think I'm a hard case. I used up Clint Slocum because I had
+to. He had hectored me about enough. He said some mean things about
+me and some one else, and I soaked him once with my fist. He struck
+me with the whip and downed me, then a kind of a cloud came into my
+mind and I guess I soaked him with my knife, too. Anyhow they
+jugged me for it. I don't care, I'd do it again. I'd cut his head
+off if he said anything about you. Well, now I'm in here and I'm
+sorry because I don't want you to think I'm a tough. I've done a
+whole lot of things I had not ought to have done, but I never meant
+to do anyone any harm.</p>
+
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="64" name="page_64" id="page_64"></a>
+&#34;Now, I'm going West when I get out. I'm going into the cattle
+business on the great plains, and I'm going to be a rich man, and
+then I'm going to come back. I hope you won't get married before
+that time for I'll have something to say to you. If you run across
+any pictures of the mountains or the plains I wisht you'd send them
+on to me. Next to you I like the life in the plains better than
+anything.</p>
+
+<p>&#34;I hope you'll come every Sunday till I get out. Yours respec'fly,</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right">&#34;HAROLD EXCELL.</p>
+
+<p>&#34;Jack will give this to you. Jack is my chum; I'd trust him with my
+life. He's all wool."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The girl sat a long time with the letter in her hand. She was but a
+child, after all, and the lad's words alarmed and burdened her, for the
+meaning of the letter was plain. It was a message of love and
+admiration, and though it contained no subtleties, it came from one who
+was in jail, and she had been taught to regard people in jail as lost
+souls, aliens with whom it was dangerous to hold any intercourse, save
+in prayer and Scripture. The handsome boy with the sad face had appealed
+to <a class="pagenum" title="65" name="page_65" id="page_65"></a>her very deeply, and she bore him in her thoughts a great deal; but
+now he came in a new guise&mdash;as a lover, bold, outspoken, and persuasive.</p>
+
+<p>"What shall I do? Shall I tell Aunt Lida?" she asked herself, and ended
+by kneeling down and praying to Jesus to give the young man a new heart.</p>
+
+<p>In this fashion the courtship went on. No one knew of it but Jack, for
+Mary could not bring herself to confide in anyone, not even her mother,
+it all seemed too strange and beautiful. It was God's grace working
+through her, and her devoutness was not without its human mixture of
+girlish pride and exaltation. She worshiped him in her natural moments,
+and in her moments of religious fervor she prayed for him with
+impersonal anguish as for a lost soul. She did not consider him a
+criminal, but she thought him Godless and rebellious toward his
+Saviour.</p>
+
+<p>She wrote him quaint, formal little notes, which began abruptly, "My
+Friend." They contained much matter which was hortatory, but at times
+she became girlish and very charming. Gradually she dropped the tone
+which she had caught from revivalists and wrote of her studies and of
+the doings of each member of the class, and all other subjects which a
+young girl finds valuable material of conversation. She was just
+becoming acquainted with Victor Hugo and his resounding, antithetic
+phrases, and his humanitarian outcries filled her mind with commotion.
+Her heart swelled high with resolution to do something to help the world
+in<a class="pagenum" title="66" name="page_66" id="page_66"></a> general and Harold in particular.</p>
+
+<p>She was not one in whom passion ruled; the intellectual dominated the
+passional in her, and, besides, she was only a child. She was by no
+means as mature as Harold, although about the same age. Naturally
+reverent, she had been raised in a family where religious observances
+never remitted; where grace was always spoken. In this home her looks
+were seldom alluded to in any way, and vanity was not in her. She had
+her lovelinesses; her hair was long and fair, her eyes were beautiful,
+and her skin was of exquisite purity, like her eyes. Her charm lay in
+her modesty and quaint dignity, her grave and gentle gaze, and in her
+glorious voice.</p>
+
+<p>The Reverend Excell was pleased to hear that his son was bearing
+confinement very well, and made another effort to see him. Simply
+because Mary wished it, Harold consented to see his father, and they
+held a long conversation, at least the father talked and the boy
+listened. In effect, the minister said:</p>
+
+<p>"My son, I have forfeited your good will&mdash;that I know&mdash;but I think you
+do me an injustice. I know you think I am a liar and a hypocrite because
+you have seen me in rages and because I have profaned God in your
+presence. My boy,<a class="pagenum" title="67" name="page_67" id="page_67"></a> let me tell you, in every man there are two natures.
+When one is uppermost, actions impossible to the other nature become
+easy. You will know this, you should know it now, for in you there is
+the same murderous madman that is in me. You must fight him down. I love
+you, my son," he said, and his voice was deep and tremulous, "and it
+hurts me to have you stand aloof from me. I have tried to do my duty. I
+have almost succeeded in putting my worst self under my feet, and I
+think if you were to come to understand me you would not be so hard
+toward me. It is not a little thing to me that you, my only son, turn
+your face away from me. On the day of your trial I thought we came
+nearer to an understanding than in many years."</p>
+
+<p>Harold felt the justice of his father's plea and his heart swelled with
+emotion, but something arose up between his heart and his lips and he
+remained silent.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Excell bent his great, handsome head and plead as a lover pleads,
+but the pale lad, with bitter and sullen mien, listened in silence. At
+last the father ended; there was a pause.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to come home when your term ends," he said. "Will you
+promise that?"</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="68" name="page_68" id="page_68"></a>
+Harold said, "No, I can't do that. I'm going out West."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall not prevent you, my son, but I want you to come and take your
+place at the table just once. There is a special reason for this. Will
+you come for a single day?"</p>
+
+<p>Harold forced himself to answer, "Yes."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Excell raised his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us shake hands over your promise, my boy."</p>
+
+<p>Harold arose and they shook hands. The father's eyes were wet with
+tears. "I can't afford to forfeit your good opinion," Mr. Excell went
+on, "especially now when you are leaving me, perhaps forever. I think
+you are right in going. There is no chance for you here; perhaps out
+there in the great West you may get a start. Of my shortcomings as a
+father you know, and I suppose you can never love me as a son should,
+but I think you will see some day that I am not a hypocrite, and that I
+failed as a father more through neglect and passion than through any
+deliberate injustice."<a class="pagenum" title="69" name="page_69" id="page_69"></a></p>
+
+<p>The boy struggled for words to express himself; at last he burst forth:
+"I don't blame you at all, only let me go where I can do something worth
+while: you bother me so."</p>
+
+<p>The minister dropped his son's hand and a look of the deepest sadness
+came over his face. He had failed&mdash;Harold was farther away from him than
+ever. He turned and went out without another word.</p>
+
+<p>That he had hurt his father Harold knew, but in exactly what other way
+he could have acted he could not tell. The overanxiety on the father's
+part irritated the boy. Had he been less morbid, less self-accusing, he
+would have won. Harold passionately loved strength and decision,
+especially in a big man like his father, who looked like a soldier and a
+man of action, and who ought not to cry like a woman. If only he would
+act all the time as he did when he threw the sheriff across the walk
+that day on the street. "I wish he'd stop preaching and go to work at
+something," he said to Jack. The psychology of the father's attitude
+toward him was incomprehensible. He could get along very well without a
+father; why could not his father get along without him? He hated all
+this fuss, anyway. It only made him feel sorry and perplexed, and he
+wished sincerely that his father would let him alone.</p>
+
+<p>Jack brought a letter from Mary which troubled him.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">"I am going home in March, a week before the term ends. Mother
+isn't very well, and just as soon as I can I must go. If I do, you
+must not forget me."</p>
+
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="70" name="page_70" id="page_70"></a>Of
+course he wrote in reply, saying:</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">"Don't you go till I see you. You must come in and see
+me. Can't you come in when Jack does, he knows all about us,
+COME SURE. I can't go without a good-by kiss. Don't you go
+back on me now. Come."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid to come," she replied, "people would find out
+everything and talk. Besides you mustn't kiss me. We are not
+regularly engaged, and so it would not be right."</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">"We'll be engaged in about two minutes if you'll meet me with
+Jack," he replied. "You're the best girl in the world and I'm
+going to marry you when I get rich enough to come back and
+build you a house to be in, I'm going out where the cattle
+are thick as grasshoppers, and I'm going to be a cattle king
+and then you can be a cattle queen and ride around with me on
+our ranch, that's what they call a farm out there. Now,
+you're my girl and you must wait for me to come back. Don't
+you get impatient, sometimes a chap has a hard time just to
+get a start, after that it's easy. Jack will go with me, he
+will be my friend and share everything.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><a class="pagenum" title="71" name="page_71" id="page_71"></a>
+"Now you come and call me sweetheart and I'll call you angel,
+for that's what you are. Get to be a great singer, and go
+about the country singing to make men like me good, you can
+do it, only don't let them fall in love with you, they do
+that too just the way I did, but don't let 'em do it for you
+are mine. You're my sweetheart. From your sweetheart,</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: right; margin-right: 6%;">"HARRY EXCELL, Cattle King."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="72" name="page_72" id="page_72"></a>
+<a name="THE_CAGE_OPENS" id="THE_CAGE_OPENS"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+<h3>THE CAGE OPENS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Before Harold's day of freedom came Mary was called home by a telegram
+from her father. She longed to see Harold before she left, but she was
+too much hurried to seek out Jack, the loyal go-between, and dared not
+send a letter by any other hands. She went away without sending him a
+word of good-by.</p>
+
+<p>So it happened that the last week of Harold's captivity was spent in
+loneliness and bitter sorrow, and even when Jack came he brought very
+little information concerning Mary's flight, and Harold was bitter and
+accusing.</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't she write to me? Why didn't she come to see me?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack pleaded for her as well as he was able. "She hadn't time, maybe."</p>
+
+<p>Harold refused to accept this explanation. "If she had cared for me,
+she'd have sent me word&mdash;she could take time for that."</p>
+
+<p>No letter came in the days which followed, and at last he put her out of
+<a class="pagenum" title="73" name="page_73" id="page_73"></a>
+his heart and turned his face to the sunset land which now called to
+the sad heart within him with imperious voice. Out there he could forget
+all his hurts.</p>
+
+<p>On the morning when the jailer opened the door for him to leave the iron
+corridor in which he had spent so many months, his father met him, and
+the white face of the boy made the father's heart contract. Harold's
+cheeks were plump and boyish, but there was a look in his face which
+made him seem a youth of twenty.</p>
+
+<p>The family stood in the jailer's parlor to receive him, and he submitted
+to their caresses with cold dignity. His manner plainly expressed this
+feeling: "You are all strangers to me." But he turned to Jack and
+gripped his hand hard. "Now for the plains!"</p>
+
+<p>Side by side the father and son passed out into the sunshine. The boy
+drew an audible breath, as if in sudden, keen pain. Around him lay the
+bare, brown earth of March. The sun was warm and a subtle odor of lately
+uncovered sward was in the air. The wind, soft, warm, and steady, blew
+from the west. Here and there a patch of grass, faintly green, showed
+where sullen snow banks had lately lain. And the sky! Filled with clouds
+almost as fleecy and as white as June, the sky covered him, and when he
+raised his eyes to it he saw a triangular flock of geese sweeping to
+the northwest, serene and apparently effortless.</p>
+
+<p>He could not speak&mdash;did not wish to hear any speech but that of Nature,
+and the father seemed to comprehend his son's mood, for he, too, walked
+in silence.</p>
+
+<p>The people of the village knew that Harold was to return to freedom that
+day, and with one excuse or another they came to the doors to see him
+pass. Some of them were genuinely sympathetic, and bowed and smiled,
+intending to say, "Let by-gones be by-gones," but to their greetings
+Harold remained blankly unresponsive. Jack would gladly have walked with
+Harold, but out of consideration for the father fell into step behind.</p>
+
+<p>The girls&mdash;some of them&mdash;had the grace to weep when they saw Harold's
+sad face. Others tittered and said: "Ain't he awful pale." For the most
+part, the citizens considered his punishment sufficient, and were
+disposed to give him<a class="pagenum" title="74" name="page_74" id="page_74"></a> another chance. To them, Harold, by his manner,
+intended to reply: "I don't want any favors. I won't accept any chance
+from you. I despise you and I don't want to see you again."</p>
+
+<p>He looked upon the earth and the sky rather than upon the faces of his
+fellows. His natural love of Nature had been intensified by his
+captivity, while a bitter contempt and suspicion of all men and women
+had grown up in his mind. He entered his father's house with reluctance
+and loathing.</p>
+
+<p>The day was one of preparation. Jack had carried out, so far as he well
+could, the captive's wishes. His gun, his clothing, and his valise were
+ready for him, and Mrs. Excell had washed and ironed all his linen with
+scrupulous care. His sister Maud had made a little "housewife" for him,
+and filled it with buttons and needles and thread, a gift he did not
+value, even from her.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going out West to herd cattle, not to cobble trousers," he said
+contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>Jack had a report to make. "Harry, I've found a chance for you," he said
+when they were alone. "There was a man moving to Colorado here on
+Saturday. He said he could use you, but of course I had <a class="pagenum" title="75" name="page_75" id="page_75"></a>to tell him you
+couldn't go for a few days. He's just about to Roseville now. I'll tell
+you what you do. You get on the train and go to Roseville&mdash;I'll let you
+have the money&mdash;and you strike him when he comes through. His name is
+Pratt. He's a tall old chap, talks queer. Of course he may have a hand
+now, but anyway you must get out o' here. He wouldn't take you if he
+knew you'd been in jail."</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you going?" asked Harold sharply.</p>
+
+<p>Jack looked uneasy. "Not now, Harry. You see, I want to graduate, I'm so
+near through. It wouldn't do to quit now. I'll stay till fall. I'll get
+to Uncle John's place about the time you do."</p>
+
+<p>Harold said no more, but his face darkened with disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>The call to dinner brought them all together once more, and the
+minister's grace became a short prayer for the safety of his son, broken
+again and again by the weakness of his own voice and by the sobs of Maud
+and Mrs. Excell. Harold sat with rigid face, fixed in a frown. The meal
+proceeded in sad silence, for each member of the family felt that Harold
+was leaving them never to return.</p>
+
+<p>Jack's plan was determined upon, and after dinner h<a class="pagenum" title="76" name="page_76" id="page_76"></a>e went to hitch up
+his horse to take Harry out to the farm. The family sat in painful
+suspense for a few moments after Jack went out, and then Mr. Excell
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"My son, we have never been friends, and the time is past when I can
+expect to win your love and confidence, but I hope you will not go away
+with any bitterness in your heart toward me." He waited a moment for his
+son to speak, but Harold continued silent, which again confused and
+pained the father, but he went on: "In proof of what I say I want to
+offer you some money to buy a horse and saddle when you need them."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't need any money," said Harold, a little touched by the affection
+in his father's voice. "I can earn all the money I need."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps so, but a little money might be useful at the start. You will
+need a horse if you herd cattle."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll get my own horse&mdash;you'll need all you can earn," said Harold in
+reply.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Excell's tone changed. "What makes you say that, Harold? What do you
+mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I didn't mean anything in particular<a class="pagenum" title="77" name="page_77" id="page_77"></a>."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you heard of the faction which is growing up in the church against
+me?"</p>
+
+<p>Harold hesitated. "Yes&mdash;but I wasn't thinking of that particularly." He
+betrayed a little interest. "What's the matter with 'em?"</p>
+
+<p>"There has been an element in the church hostile to me from the first,
+and during your trial and sentence these persons have used every effort
+to spread a feeling against me. How wide it is I can not tell, but I
+know it is strong. It may end my work here, for I will not cringe to
+them. They will find me iron."</p>
+
+<p>Harold's heart warmed suddenly. Without knowing it the father had again
+struck the right note to win his son. "That's right," the boy said,
+"don't let 'em tramp on you."</p>
+
+<p>A lump arose in the minister's throat. There was something very sweet in
+Harold's sympathy. His eyes smiled, even while they were dim with tears.
+He held out his hand and Harold took it.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now, my son, it's time for you to start. Don't you worry about
+me. I am a fighter when I am aroused."</p>
+
+<p>Harol<a class="pagenum" title="78" name="page_78" id="page_78"></a>d smiled back into his face, and so it was that the two men parted,
+for the father, in a flash of insight, understood that no more than this
+could be gained; but his heart was lighter than it had been for many
+months as he saw his son ride away from his door.</p>
+
+<p>"Write often, Harold," he called after them.</p>
+
+<p>"All right. You let me know how the fight comes out. If they whip you,
+come out West," was Harold's reply; then he turned in his seat. "Drive
+ahead, Jack; there's no one now but your folks for whom I care."</p>
+
+<p>As they drove out along the muddy lanes the hearts of the two boys
+became very tender. Harold, filled with exaltation by every familiar
+thing&mdash;by the flights of ground sparrows, by the patches of green grass,
+by the smell of the wind, by the infrequent boom of the prairie
+chickens&mdash;talked incessantly.</p>
+
+<p>"What makes me maddest," he broke out, "is to think they've cheated me
+out of seeing one fall and one winter. I didn't see the geese fly
+south, and now here they are all going north again. Some time I mean to
+find out where they go to." He took off his hat. "This wind will mighty
+soon take the white out o' me, won't it?" He was very gay. He slapped
+his chum on the shoulder and shouted with excitement. "We must keep
+going, old man, till we strike the buffalo. They are the sign of wild
+country that <i>is</i> wild. I want to get where there ain't any fences."</p>
+
+<p>Jack smiled sadly in reply. Harold knew he listened and so talked on. "I
+must work up a big case of sunburn before I strike Mr. Pratt for a job.
+Did he have extra horses?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Bout a dozen. His girl was <a class="pagenum" title="79" name="page_79" id="page_79"></a>driving the cattle, but he said&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Girl? What kind of a girl?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, a kind of a tomboy, freckled&mdash;chews gum and says 'darn it!' That
+kind of a girl."</p>
+
+<p>Harold's face darkened. "I don't like the idea of that girl. She might
+have heard something, and then it would go hard with me."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you worry. The Pratts ain't the kind of people that read
+newspapers; they didn't stop here but a day, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>The sight of Mr. Burns and his wife at the gate moved Harold deeply.
+Mrs. Burns came hurrying out: "You blessed boy! Get right down and let
+me hug you," and as he leaped down she put her arms around him as if he
+were her own son, and Harold's eyes smarted with tears.</p>
+
+<p>"I declare," said Mr. Burns, "you look like a fightin' cock; must feed
+you well down there?"</p>
+
+<p>No note of doubt, hesitation, concealment, or shame was in their
+greetings and the boy knew it. They all sat around the kitchen, and
+chatted and laughed as if no ill thing had ever happened to him. Burns
+uttered the only doubtful word when he said: "I don't know about this
+running away from things here. I'd be inclined to stay here and fight it
+out."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="80" name="page_80" id="page_80"></a></p>
+<p>"But it isn't running away, Dad," said Jack. "Harry has always wanted to
+go West and now is the first time he has really had the chance."</p>
+
+<p>"That's so," admitted the father. "Still, I'm sorry to see him look like
+he was running away."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Burns was determined to feed Harry into complete torpor. She put up
+enough food in a basket to last him to San Francisco at the shortest.
+Even when the boys had entered the buggy she ordered them to wait while
+she brought out some sweet melon pickles in a jar to add to the
+collection.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now, good-by," said Harold, reaching down his hand to Mrs.
+Burns, who seized it in both hers.</p>
+
+<p>"You poor thing, don't let the Indians scalp ye."</p>
+
+<p>"No danger o' that," he called back.</p>
+
+<p>"Be good to yourself," shouted Burns, and the buggy rolled through the
+gate into the west as the red sun was setting and the prairie cocks were
+crowing.</p>
+
+<p>The boys talked their plans all over again while the strong young horse
+spattered through the mud. Slowly the night fell, and as they rode under
+the branches of the oaks, Jack took courage to say:<a class="pagenum" title="81" name="page_81" id="page_81"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I wish Miss Yardwell had been here, Harry."</p>
+
+<p>"It's no use talking about her; she don't care two straws for me; if she
+had she would have written to me, at least."</p>
+
+<p>"Her mother may have been dying."</p>
+
+<p>"Even that needn't keep her from letting me know or sending some word.
+She didn't care for me&mdash;she was just trying to convert me."</p>
+
+<p>"She wasn't the kind of a girl who flirts. By jinks! You should see her
+look right through the boys that used to try to walk home with her after
+prayer meeting. They never tried it a second time. She's a wonder that
+way. One strange thing about her, she never acts like other girls. You
+know what I mean? She's different. She's going to be a singer, and
+travel around giving concerts&mdash;she told me so once."</p>
+
+<p>Harold was disposed to be fair. "I don't want anybody to feel sorry for
+me. I suppose she felt that way, and tried to help me." Here he paused
+and his voice changed. "But when I'm a cattle king out West and can buy
+her the best home in Des Moines&mdash;maybe she won't pity me so much.
+Anyhow, there's nothing left for me but to emigrate. There's no use
+stayin' around here. Out there is the place for me now."</p>
+
+<p>Jack put Harold down at the station and tur<a class="pagenum" title="82" name="page_82" id="page_82"></a>ned over to him all the money
+he had in the world. Harold took it, saying:</p>
+
+<p>"Now you'll get this back with interest, old man. I need it now, but I
+won't six months from now. I'm going to strike a job before long&mdash;don't
+you worry."</p>
+
+<p>Their good-by was awkward and constrained, and Harold felt the parting
+more keenly than he dared to show. Jack rode away crying&mdash;a brother
+could not have been more troubled. It seemed that the bitterness of
+death was in this good-by.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="83" name="page_83" id="page_83"></a>
+<a name="ON_THE_WING" id="ON_THE_WING"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+<h3>ON THE WING</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>When Harold arose the next morning his cheeks were still red with the
+touch of the wind and sun and he looked like a college student just
+entering upon a vacation. His grace and dignity of bearing set him apart
+from the rough workmen with whom he ate, and he did not exchange a
+single word with anyone but the landlord. As soon as breakfast was over
+he went out into the town.</p>
+
+<p>Roseville had only one street, and it was not difficult to learn that
+Pratt had not yet appeared upon the scene. It was essentially a prairie
+village; no tree broke the smooth horizon line. A great many emigrants
+were in motion, and their white-topped wagons suggested the sails of
+minute craft on the broad ocean as they came slowly up the curve to the
+East and fell away down the slope to the West. To all of these Harold
+applied during the days that followed, but received no offer which
+seemed to promise so well as that of Mr. Pratt, so he waited. At last
+he came, a tall, sandy-bearded fellow, who walked beside a four-horse
+team drawing two covered wagons tandem. Behind him straggled a bunch of
+bony cattle and some horses, herded by a girl and a small boy. The girl
+rode a mettlesome little pony, sitting sidewise on a man's saddle.</p>
+
+<p>"Wal&mdash;I d'n know," the old man replied in answer to Harold's question.
+"I did 'low fer to get some help, but Jinnie she said she'd bring 'em
+along fer fifty cents a day, an' she's boss, stranger. If she's sick o'
+the job, why, I'll make out with ye. Jinnie, come here."</p>
+
+<p>Jinnie rode up, eyeing the stranger sharply. "What's up, Dad?"</p>
+
+<p>"Here's another young fellow after your job."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if he'll work cheap<a class="pagenum" title="84" name="page_84" id="page_84"></a> he can have it," replied the girl promptly.
+"I don't admire to ride in this mud any longer."</p>
+
+<p>Pratt smiled. "I reckon that lets you in, stranger, ef we can come to
+terms. We ain't got any money to throw away, but we'll do the best we
+kin."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what you do. You turn that pony and saddle over to me
+when we get through, and I'll call it square."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I reckon you won't," said the girl, throwing back her sunbonnet
+as if in challenge. "That's my pony, and nobody gets him without blood,
+and don't you forget it, sonny."</p>
+
+<p>She was a large-featured girl, so blonde as to be straw-colored, even to
+the lashes of her eyes, but her teeth were very white, and her lips a
+vivid pink. She had her father's humorous smile, and though her words
+were bluff, her eyes betrayed that she liked Harold at once.</p>
+
+<p>Harold smiled back at her. "Well, I'll take the next best, that roan
+there."</p>
+
+<p>The boy burst into wild clamor: "Not by a darn sight, you don't. That's
+my horse, an' no sucker like you ain't goin' to ride him, nuther."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="85" name="page_85" id="page_85"></a></p>
+<p>"Why don't <i>you</i> ride him?" asked Harold.</p>
+
+<p>The boy looked foolish. "I'm goin' to, some day."</p>
+
+<p>"He can't," said the girl, "and I don't think you can."</p>
+
+<p>Pratt grinned. "Wal, you see how it is, youngster, you an' me has got to
+get down to a money basis. Them young uns claim all my stawk."</p>
+
+<p>Harold said: "Pay me what you can," and Pratt replied: "Wal, throw your
+duds into that hind wagon. We've got to camp somewhere 'fore them durn
+critters eat up all the fences."</p>
+
+<p>As Harold was helping to unhitch the team the girl came around and
+studied him with care.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, what's your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Moses," he instantly replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Moses what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, let it go at Mose."</p>
+
+<p>"Hain't you got no other name?"</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="86" name="page_86" id="page_86"></a></p>
+<p>"I did have but the wind blew it away."</p>
+
+<p>"What was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Moses N. Hardluck."</p>
+
+<p>"You're terrible cute, ain't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not so very, or I wouldn't be working for my board."</p>
+
+<p>"You hain't never killed yourself with hard work, by the looks o' them
+hands."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I've been going to school."</p>
+
+<p>"A'huh! I thought you had. You talk pretty hifalutin' fer a real workin'
+man. I tell ye what I think&mdash;you're a rich man's son, and you've run
+away."</p>
+
+<p>"Come, gal, get that coffee bilin'," called the mother. Mrs. Pratt was a
+wizened little woman, so humped by labor and chills and fever that she
+seemed deformed. Her querulousness was not so much ill-natured as
+plaintive.</p>
+
+<p>"He <i>says</i> his name is Mose Hardluck," Harold heard the girl say, and
+that ended all further inquiry. He became simply "Mose" to them.</p>
+
+<p>There was a satisfying charm to the business of camping out which now
+came to be the regular order of living to him. By day the cattle, thin
+and poor, crawled along <a class="pagenum" title="87" name="page_87" id="page_87"></a>patiently, waiting for feeding time to come,
+catching at such bunches of dry grass as came within their reach, and at
+their heels rode Harold on an old black mare, his clear voice urging the
+herd forward. At noon and again at night Pratt halted the wagons beside
+the road and while the women got supper or dinner Harold helped Pratt
+take care of the stock, which he was obliged to feed. "I started a
+little airly," he said at least a score of times in the first week. "But
+I wanted to get a good start agin grass come."</p>
+
+<p>Harold was naturally handy at camping, and his ready and skillful hands
+became very valuable around the camp fire. He was quick and cheerful,
+and apparently tireless, and before the end of the week Jennie said:</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Mose, you can ride my horse if you want to."</p>
+
+<p>"Much obliged, but I guess I'll hang on to the black mare."</p>
+
+<p>At this point Dannie, not to be outdone, chirped shrilly: "You can break
+my horse if you want to."</p>
+
+<p>So a few days later Harold, with intent to check the girl in her growing
+friendliness, as well as to please himself, replied: "I guess I'll break
+Dan's colt."</p>
+
+<p>He began by caressing the horse at every opportunity, leaning against
+him, or putting one arm over his back, to let him feel the weight of his
+body. At last he leaped softly up and hung partly over his back.
+Naturally the colt shied and reared, but Harold dropped off instantly
+and renewed his petting and soothing. It was not long before the pony
+allowed him to mount, and nothing remained but to teach him to endure
+the saddle and the bridle. This was done by belting him and checking him
+to a pad strapped upon his back. He struggled fiercely to rid himself of
+these fetters. He leaped in the air, fell, rolled over, backing and
+wheeling around and around till Dan grew dizzy watching him.</p>
+
+<p>A bystander once said: "Why don't you climb onto him and stay with him
+till he gets sick o' pitchin'; that's what a broncho buster would do."</p>
+
+<p>"Because I don't want him 'busted'; I want him taught that I'm hi<a class="pagenum" title="88" name="page_88" id="page_88"></a>s
+friend," said Harold.</p>
+
+<p>In the end "Jack," as Harold called the roan, walked up to his master
+and rubbed his nose against his shoulder. Harold then stripped away the
+bridle and pad at once, and when he put them on next day Jack winced,
+but did not plunge, and Harold mounted him. A day or two later the colt
+worked under the saddle like an old horse. Thereafter it was a matter
+of making him a horse of finished education. He was taught not to trot,
+but to go directly from the walk to the "lope." He acquired a swift walk
+and a sort of running trot&mdash;that is, he trotted behind and rose in front
+with a wolflike action of the fore feet. He was guided by the touch of
+the rein on the neck or by the pressure of his rider's knee on his
+shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>He was taught to stand without hitching and to allow his rider to mount
+on either side. This was a trick which Harold learned of a man who had
+been with the Indians. "You see," he said, "an Injun can't afford to
+have a horse that will only let him climb on from the nigh side, he has
+to get there in a hurry sometimes, and any side at all will do him."</p>
+
+<p>It was well that Jack was trained early, for as they drew out on the
+open prairie and the feed became better the horses and cattle were less
+easy to drive. Each day the interest grew. The land became wilder and
+the sky brighter. The grass came on swiftly, and crocuses and dandelions
+broke from the sod on the sunny side of <a class="pagenum" title="89" name="page_89" id="page_89"></a>smooth hills. The cranes, with
+their splendid challenging cries, swept in wide circles through the sky.
+Ducks and geese moved by in myriads, straight on, delaying not. Foxes
+barked on the hills at sunset, and the splendid chorus of the prairie
+chickens thickened day by day.</p>
+
+<p>It was magnificent, and Harold was happy. True, it was not all play.
+There were muddy roads to plod through and treacherous sloughs to cross.
+There were nights when camp had to be pitched in rain, and mornings when
+he was obliged to rise stiff and sore to find the cattle strayed away
+and everything wet and grimy. But the sunshine soon warmed his back and
+dried up the mud under his feet. Each day the way grew drier and the
+flowers more abundant. Each day signs of the wild life thickened.
+Antlers of elk, horns of the buffalo, crates of bones set around shallow
+water holes, and especially the ever-thickening game trails furrowing
+the hills filled the boy's heart with delight. This was the kind of life
+he wished to see. They were now beyond towns, and only occasionally
+small settlements relieved the houseless rolling plains. Soon the
+Missouri, that storied and muddy old stream, would offer itself to view.</p>
+
+<p>"Mose" was now indispensable to the Pratt "outfit." He built fires, shot
+game, herded the cattle, gre<a class="pagenum" title="90" name="page_90" id="page_90"></a>ased the wagons, curried horses, and mended
+harness. He never complained and never grew sullen. Although he talked
+but little, the family were fond of him, but considered him a "singular
+critter." He had lost his pallor. His skin was a clear brown, and being
+dressed in rough clothing, wide hat, and gauntlet gloves, he made a bold
+and dashing herder, showing just the right kind of wear and tear.
+Occasionally, when a chance to earn a few dollars offered, Pratt camped
+and took a job, and Harold shared in the wages.</p>
+
+<p>He spent a great deal of his pocket money in buying cartridges for his
+revolver. He shot at everything which offered a taking mark, and became
+so expert that Dan bowed down before him, and Mrs. Pratt considered him
+dangerous.</p>
+
+<p>"It ain't natural fer to be so durned sure-pop on game," she said one
+day. "Doggone it, I'd want 'o miss 'em once in a while just fer to be
+aigged on fer to try again. First you know, you'll be obliged fer to
+shoot standin' on your haid like these yere champin' shooters that go
+'round the kentry givin' shows, you shorely will, Mose."</p>
+
+<p>Mose only laughed. "I want to be just as good a shot as anybody," he
+said, turning to Pratt.<a class="pagenum" title="91" name="page_91" id="page_91"></a></p>
+
+<p>"You'll be it ef you don't wear out your gun a-doin' of it," replied the
+boss.</p>
+
+<p>These were splendid days. Each sundown they camped nearer to the land of
+the buffalo, and when the work was done and the supper eaten, Mose took
+his pipe and his gun and walked away to some ridge, there to sit while
+the yellow light faded out of the sky. He was as happy as one of his
+restless nature could properly hope to be, but sometimes when he thought
+of Mary his heart ached a little; he forgot her only when his
+imagination set wing into the sunset sky.</p>
+
+<p>One other thing troubled him a little. Rude, plain Jennie was in love
+with him. Daily intercourse with a youngster half as attractive as Mose
+would have had the same effect upon her, for she was at that age when
+propinquity makes sentiment inevitable. She could scarcely keep her eyes
+from him during hours in camp, and on the drive she rode with him four
+times as long as he wished for. She bothered him, and yet she was so
+good and generous he could not rebuff her; he could only endure.</p>
+
+<p>She had one accomplishment: she c<a class="pagenum" title="92" name="page_92" id="page_92"></a>ould ride like a Sioux, either astride
+or womanwise, with a saddle or without, and many a race they had as the
+roads grew firm and dry. She was scrawny and flat-chested, but agile as
+a boy when occasion demanded. She was fearless, too, of man or beast,
+and once when her father became crazy with liquor (which was his
+weakness) she went with Mose to bring him from a saloon, where he stood
+boasting of his powers as a fighter with the bowie knife.</p>
+
+<p>As they entered Jennie walked straight up to him: "Dad, you come home.
+Come right out o' yere."</p>
+
+<p>He looked at her for a moment until his benumbed brain took in her words
+and all their meaning; then he said: "All right, Jinnie, just wait a
+second till I have another horn with these yer gents&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Horn nawthin," she said in reply, and seized him by the arm. "You come
+along."</p>
+
+<p>He submitted without a struggle, and on the way out grew plaintive.
+"Jinnie, gal," he kept saying, "I'm liable to get dry before mornin', I
+shore am; ef you'd only jest let me had one more gill&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, shet up, Dad. Ef you git dry I'll bring the hull crick in fer ye to
+drink," was her scornful reply.</p>
+
+<p>After he was safe in bed<a class="pagenum" title="93" name="page_93" id="page_93"></a> Jennie came over to the wagon where Mose was
+smoking.</p>
+
+<p>"Men are the blamedest fools," she began abruptly; "'pears like they
+ain't got the sense of a grayback louse, leastways some of 'em. Now,
+there's dad, filled up on stuff they call whisky out yer, and
+consequence is he can't eat any grub for two days or more. Doggone it,
+it makes me huffy, it plum does. Mam has put up with it fer twenty
+years, which is just twenty more than I'd stand it, and don't you forget
+it. When I marry a man it will be a man with sense 'nough not to pizen
+hisself on rot-gut whisky."</p>
+
+<p>Without waiting for a reply she turned away and went to bed in the
+bottom of the hinder wagon. Mose smoked his pipe out and rolled himself
+in his blanket near the smoldering camp fire.</p>
+
+<p>Pratt was feeble and very long faced and repentant at breakfast. His
+appetite was gone. Mrs. Pratt said nothing, but pressed him to eat.
+"Come, Paw, a gill or two o' cawfee will do ye good," she said. "Cawfee
+is a great heatoner," she said to Mose. "When I'm so misorified of a
+moarnin' I can't eat a mossel o' bacon or pork, I kin tak<a class="pagenum" title="94" name="page_94" id="page_94"></a>e a gill o'
+cawfee an' it shore helps me much."</p>
+
+<p>Pratt looked around sheepishly. "I do reckon I made a plum ejot of
+myself last night."</p>
+
+<p>"As ush'll," snapped Jennie. "You wanted to go slicin' every man in
+sight up, just fer to show you could swing a bowie knife when you was on
+airth the first time."</p>
+
+<p>"Now that's the quare thing, Mose; a peacebbler man than me don't live;
+Jinnie says I couldn't lick a hearty bedbug, but when I git red liquor
+into my insides I'm a terror to near neighbours, so they say. I can't
+well remember just what do take place 'long towards the fo'th drink."</p>
+
+<p>"Durn lucky you can't. You'd never hole up your head again. A plummer
+fool you never see," said Jennie, determined to drive his shame home to
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Pratt sighed, understood perfectly the meaning of all this vituperation.
+"Well, Mam, we'll try again. I think I'm doin' pretty good when I go two
+munce, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's more'n that, Paw," said Mrs. Pratt, eager to encourage him at the
+right moment. "It's sixty-four days. You gained four days on it this
+time."</p>
+
+<p>Pratt straightened up and smiled. "That so, Mam? Wal, that shorely is a
+big<a class="pagenum" title="95" name="page_95" id="page_95"></a> gain."</p>
+
+<p>He took Mose aside after breakfast and solemnly said:</p>
+
+<p>"Wimern-folk is a heap better'n men-folks. Now, me or you couldn't stand
+in wimern-folks what they put up with in men-folks. 'Pears like they air
+finer built, someway." After a pause he said with great earnestness:
+"Don't you drink red liquor, Mose; it shore makes a man no account."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you worry, Cap. I'm not drinkin' liquor of any color."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="96" name="page_96" id="page_96"></a>
+<a name="THE_UPWARD_TRAIL" id="THE_UPWARD_TRAIL"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+<h3>THE UPWARD TRAIL</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Once across the Missouri the trail began to mount. "Here is the true
+buffalo country," thought Mose, as they came to the treeless hills of
+the Great Muddy Water. On these smooth buttes Indian sentinels had
+stood, morning and evening, through a thousand years, to signal the
+movement of the wild herds, and from other distant hills columns of
+smoke by day, or the flare of signal fires at night, had warned the
+chieftains of the approach of enemies. Down these grassy gulches, around
+these sugar-loaf mesas, the giant brown cattle of the plains had crawled
+in long, dark, knobby lines. On the green bottoms they had mated and fed
+and fought in thousands, roaring like lions, their huge hoofs flinging
+the alkaline earth in showers above their heads, their tongues curling,
+their tails waving like banners.</p>
+
+<p>Mose was already deeply learned in all these dramas. All that he had
+ever heard or read of the wild country remained in his mind. He cared
+nothing about the towns or the fame of cities, but these deep-worn
+trails of shaggy beasts filled him with joy. Their histories were more
+to him than were the wars of Cyrus and Hannibal. He questioned all the
+men he met, and their wisdom became his.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the movers wound their way up the broad, sandy river which came
+from the wilder spaces of the West. The prairie was gone. The tiger
+lily, the sweet Williams, the pinks, together with the luxuriant
+meadows and the bobolinks, were left behind. In their stead, a
+limitless, upward shelving plain outspread, covered with a short, surly,
+hairlike grass and certain sturdy, resinous plants supporting flowers of
+an unpleasant odor, sticky and weedy. Bristling cacti bulged from the
+sod; small Quaker-gray sparrows and larks were the only birds. In the
+swales blue joint grew rank. The only trees were cottonwoods and cutleaf
+willow, scattered scantily along the elbows in the river.<a class="pagenum" title="97" name="page_97" id="page_97"></a></p>
+
+<p>At last they came to the home of the prairie dog and the antelope&mdash;the
+buffalo could not be far away! So wide was the earth, so all-embracing
+the sky, they seemed to blend at the horizon line, and lakes of water
+sprang into view, filling a swale in the sod&mdash;mystic and beautiful, only
+to vanish like cloud shadows.</p>
+
+<p>The cattle country was soon at hand. Cowboys in sombreros and
+long-heeled boots, with kerchiefs knotted about their necks, careered
+on swift ponies in and out of the little towns or met the newcomers on
+the river road. They rode in a fashion new to Mose, with toes pointed
+straight down, the weight of their bodies a little on one side. They
+skimmed the ground like swallows, forcing their ponies mercilessly.
+Their saddles were very heavy, with high pommels and leather-covered
+stirrups, and Mose determined to have one at once. Some of them carried
+rifles under their legs in a long holster.</p>
+
+<p>Realizing that those were the real "cow-punchers," the youth studied
+their outfits as keenly as a country girl scrutinizes the new gown of a
+visiting city cousin. He changed his manner of riding (which was more
+nearly that of the cavalry) to theirs. He slung a red kerchief around
+his neck, and bought a pair of "chaps," a sort of fringed leather
+leggings. He had been wearing his pistol at his side, he now slewed it
+around to his hip. He purchased also a pair of high-heeled boots and a
+"rope" (no one called it a "lariat"), <a class="pagenum" title="98" name="page_98" id="page_98"></a>and began to acquire the
+technicalities of the range. A horse that reared and leaped to fling its
+rider was said to "pitch." Any firearm was a "gun," and any bull, steer,
+or heifer, a "cow." In a few days all these distinctions had been
+mastered, and only the closest observer was able to "cut out" Mose as a
+"tenderfoot."</p>
+
+<p>Pratt was bound for his brother's ranch on the Big Sandy River, and so
+pushed on steadily, although it was evident that he was not looked upon
+with favor. He had reached a section of country where the cattlemen eyed
+his small outfit with contempt and suspicion. He came under the head of
+a "nester," or "truck farmer," who was likely to fence in the river
+somewhere and homestead some land. He was another menace to the range,
+and was to be discouraged. The mutter of war was soon heard.</p>
+
+<p>One day a couple of whisky-heated cowboys rode furiously up behind Mose
+and called out:</p>
+
+<p>"Where in h&mdash;l ye think ye're goin', you dam cow milker?"</p>
+
+<p>Mose was angry on the instant and sullenly said: "None of your
+business."</p>
+
+<p>After threatening to bl<a class="pagenum" title="99" name="page_99" id="page_99"></a>ow his liver into bits they rode on and repeated
+their question to Pratt, who significantly replied: "I'm a-goin' to the
+mouth o' the Cannon Ball ef I don't miss it. Any objection?"</p>
+
+<p>"You bet we have, you rowdy baggage puller. You better keep out o' here;
+the climate's purty severe."</p>
+
+<p>Pratt smiled grimly. "I'm usen to that, boys," he replied, and the
+cowboys rode on, cursing him for a fool.</p>
+
+<p>At last, late in July, the mouth of the Cannon Ball was reached. One
+afternoon they cut across a peninsular body of high land and came in
+sight of a wide green flat (between two sluggish, percolating streams)
+whereon a cluster of gray log buildings stood.</p>
+
+<p>"I reckon that's Jake's," said Pratt as they halted to let the horses
+breathe. A minute, zig-zag line of deep green disclosed the course of
+the Cannon Ball, deep sunk in the gravelly soil as it came down to join
+the Big Sandy. All about stood domed and pyramidal and hawk-headed
+buttes. On the river bank huge old cottonwoods, worn and leaning,
+offered the only s<a class="pagenum" title="100" name="page_100" id="page_100"></a>hadow in a land flooded with vehement, devouring
+light. The long journey was at an end.</p>
+
+<p>Daniel raised a peculiar halloo, which brought a horseman hurrying out
+to meet him. The brother had not forgotten their boyish signal. He rode
+up swiftly and slid from his horse without speaking.</p>
+
+<p>Jake resembled his brother in appearance, but his face was sterner and
+his eyes keener. He had been made a bold, determined man by the pressure
+of harsher circumstances. He shook his brother by the hand in
+self-contained fashion.</p>
+
+<p>"Wal, Dan'l, I'm right glad you got h'yer safe. I reckon this is Miss
+Jinnie&mdash;she's a right hearty girl, ain't she? Mrs. Pratt, I'm heartily
+glad to see ye. This yer little man must be the tit-man. What's your
+name, sonny?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dan. H. Pratt," piped the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah&mdash;hah! Wal, sir, I reckon you'll make a right smart of a cowboy yet.
+What's this?" he said, turning to Mose. "This ain't no son-in-law, I
+reckon!"</p>
+
+<p>At this question all laughed, Jennie most immoderately of all.</p>
+
+<p>"Not yit, Uncle Jake."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="101" name="page_101" id="page_101"></a></p>
+<p>Mose turned red, being much more embarrassed than Jennie. He was indeed
+enraged, for it hurt his pride to be counted a suitor of this ungainly
+and ignorant girl. Right there he resolved to flee at the first
+opportunity. Distressful days were at hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You've been a long time gettin' here, Dan."</p>
+
+<p>"Wal, we've had some bad luck. Mam was sick for a spell, and then we had
+to lay by an' airn a little money once in a while. I'm glad I'm
+here&mdash;'peared like we'd wear the hoofs off'n our stawk purty soon." Jake
+sobered down first. "Wal, now I reckon you best unhook right h'yer for a
+day or two till we get a minute to look around and see where we're at."
+So, clucking to the tired horses the train entered upon its last half
+mile of a long journey.</p>
+
+<p>Jake's wife, a somber and very reticent woman, with a slender figure and
+a girlish head, met them at the door of the cabin. Her features were
+unusually small for a woman of her height, and, as she shook hands
+silently, Mose looked into her sad dark eyes and liked her very much.
+She had no children; the two in which she had once taken a mother's joy
+slept in two little mounds on the hill just above the house. She seemed
+glad of the coming of her sister-in-law, though she did not stop to say
+so, but returned to the house to hurry supper forward.</p>
+
+<p>After the meal was eaten the brothers lit<a class="pagenum" title="102" name="page_102" id="page_102"></a> their pipes and sauntered out
+to the stables, where they sat down for a long talk. Mose followed them
+silently and sat near to listen.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Dan'l," Jake began, "I'm mighty glad you've come and brought this
+yer young feller. We need ye both bad! It's like this"&mdash;he paused and
+looked around; "I don't want the wimern folks to hear," he explained.
+"Times is goin' to be lively here, shore. They's a big fight on 'twixt
+us truck farmers and the cattle ranchers. You see, the cattlemen has had
+the free range so long they naturally 'low they own it, and they have
+the nerve to tell us fellers to keep off. They explain smooth enough
+that they ain't got nawthin' agin me pussonally&mdash;you understand&mdash;only
+they 'low me settlin' h'yer will bring others, which is shore about
+right, fer h'yer you be, kit an' caboodle. Now you comin' in will set
+things a-whoopin', an' it ain't no Sunday-school picnic we're a-facin'.
+We're goin' to plant some o' these men before this is settled. The hull
+cattle business is built up on robbing the Government. I've said so, an'
+they're down on me already."</p>
+
+<p>As Jake talked the night fell, and the boy's hair began to stir. A wolf
+was "yapping" on a swell, and a far-off heron was uttering his booming
+cry. Over the ridges, which cut sharply into the fleckless dull-yellow
+sky, lay unknown lands out of which almost any variety of fierce
+marauder might ride. Surely this was the wild country of which he had
+read, where men could talk so glibly of murder and violent death.</p>
+
+<p>"When I moved in here three years ago," continued Jake, "they met me and
+tol<a class="pagenum" title="103" name="page_103" id="page_103"></a>d me to get out. I told 'em I weren't takin' a back track that year.
+One night they rode down a-whoopin' and a-shoutin', and I natcherly
+poked my gun out'n the winder and handed out a few to 'em&mdash;an' they rode
+off. Next year quite a little squad o' truck farmers moved into the bend
+just below, an' we got together and talked it over and agreed to stand
+by. We planted two more o' them, and they got one on us. They control
+the courts, and so we have got to fight. They've got a judge that suits
+'em now, and this year will be hot&mdash;it will, sure."</p>
+
+<p>Dan'l Pratt smoked for a full minute before he said: "You didn't write
+nothin' of this, Jake."</p>
+
+<p>Jake grinned. "I didn't want to disappoint you, Dan. I knew your heart
+was set on comin'."</p>
+
+<p>"Wal, I didn't 'low fer to hunt up no furss," Dan slowly said; "but the
+feller that tramps on me is liable to sickness."</p>
+
+<p>Jake chuckled. "I know that, Dan; but how about this young feller?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's all right. He kin shoot like a circus feller, and I reckon he'll
+stay right by."</p>
+
+<p>Mose<a class="pagenum" title="104" name="page_104" id="page_104"></a>, with big heart, said, "You bet I will."</p>
+
+<p>"That's the talk. Well, now, let's go to bed. I've sent word to
+Jennison&mdash;he's our captain&mdash;and to-morrow we'll settle you on the mouth
+o' the creek, just above here. It's a monstrous fine piece o' ground; I
+know you'll like it."</p>
+
+<p>Mose slept very little that night. He found himself holding his breath
+in order to be sure that the clamor of a coyote was not a cowboy signal
+of attack. There was something vastly convincing in Jake Pratt's quiet
+drawl as he set forth the cause for war.</p>
+
+<p>Early the next morning, Jennison, the leader of the settlers, came
+riding into the yard. He was tall, grim lipped and curt spoken. He had
+been a captain in the Union Army of Volunteers, and was plainly a man of
+inflexible purpose and resolution.</p>
+
+<p>"How d'e do, gentlemen?" he called pleasantly, as he reined in his
+foaming broncho. "Nice day."</p>
+
+<p>"Mighty purty. Light off, cap'n, an' shake hands with my brother Dan'l."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="105" name="page_105" id="page_105"></a></p>
+<p>Jennison dismounted calmly and easily, dropping the rein over the head
+of his wild broncho, and after shaking hands all around, said:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, neighbor, I'm right glad to see ye. Jake, your brother, has been
+savin' up a homestead for ye&mdash;and I reckon he's told you that a mighty
+purty fight goes with it. You see it's this way: The man that has the
+water has the grass and the circle, for by fencing in the river here
+controls the grass for twenty miles. They can range the whole country;
+nobody else can touch 'em. Williams, of the Circle Bar, controls the
+river for twenty miles here, and has fenced it in. Of course he has no
+legal right to more than a section or two of it&mdash;all the rest is a
+steal&mdash;the V. T. outfit joins him on the West, and so on. They all
+stand to keep out settlement&mdash;any kind&mdash;and they'll make a fight on
+you&mdash;the thing for you to do is move right in on the flat Jake has
+picked out for you, and meet all comers."</p>
+
+<p>To this Pratt said: "'Pears to me, captain, that I'd better see if I
+can't make some peaceabler arrangement."</p>
+
+<p>"We've tried all peaceable means," replied Jennison impatiently. "The
+fact is, the whole cattle business as now constituted is a steal. It
+rests on a monopoly of Government land. It's got to go. Settlement is
+creeping in and these big ranges which these 'cattle kings' have held,
+must be free. There is a war due between the sheepmen and the cattlemen,
+too, and our lay is to side in with the sheepmen. They are mainly
+Mexicans, but their fight is our feast."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="106" name="page_106" id="page_106"></a></p>
+<p>As day advanced men came riding in from the Cannon Ball and from far
+below on the Big Sandy, and under Jennison's leadership the wires of the
+Williams fence were cut and Daniel Pratt moved to the creek flat just
+above his brother's ranch. Axes rang in the cottonwoods, and when
+darkness came, the building of a rude, farmlike cabin went on by the
+light of big fires. Mose, in the thick of it, was a-quiver with
+excitement. The secrecy, the haste, the glory of flaring fires, the
+almost silent swarming of black figures filled his heart to the brim
+with exultation. He was satisfied, rapt with it as one in the presence
+of heroic music.</p>
+
+<p>But the stars paled before the dawn. The coyotes changed their barking
+to a solemn wail as though day came to rob them of some irredeemable
+joy. A belated prairie cock began to boom, and then tired, sleepy, and
+grimy, the men sat down to breakfast at Jacob Pratt's house. The deed
+had been done. Daniel had entered the lion's den.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said Jennison grimly, "we'll just camp down here in Jake's barn
+to sleep, and if you need any help, let us know."</p>
+
+<p>The Pratts continued their work, and by noon a habitable shack was ready
+for Mrs. Pratt and the children. In the afternoon Mose and Daniel slept
+for a few hours while Jake kept watch. The day ended peacefully, but
+Jennison and one or two others remained to see the ne<a class="pagenum" title="107" name="page_107" id="page_107"></a>wcomer through a
+second night.</p>
+
+<p>They sat around a fire not far from the cabin and talked quietly of the
+most exciting things. The question of Indian outbreaks came up and
+Jennison said: "We won't have any more trouble with the Indians. The
+Regulars has broken their backs. They can't do anything now but die."</p>
+
+<p>"They hated to give up this land here," said a small, dark man. "I used
+to hear 'em talk it a whole lot. They made out a case."</p>
+
+<p>"Hank lived with 'em four years," Jennison explained to Daniel Pratt.</p>
+
+<p>"The Indians are a good deal better than we give 'em credit for bein',"
+said another man. "I lived next 'em in Minnesota and I never had no
+trouble."</p>
+
+<p>Jennison said decisively: "Oh, I guess if you treat 'em right they treat
+you right. Ain't that their way, Hank?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you see it's like this," said the hairy little man; "they're kind
+o' suspicious nacherly of the white man&mdash;they can't understand what he
+says, and they don't get his drift always. They make mistakes that way,
+but they mean all right. Of cou<a class="pagenum" title="108" name="page_108" id="page_108"></a>rse they have young plug-uglies amongst
+'em jest the same as 'mongst any other c'munity, but the majority of 'em
+druther be peaceful with their neighbors. What makes 'em wildest is
+seein' the buffalo killed off. It's like you havin' your water right cut
+off."</p>
+
+<p>As the talk went on, Mose squatted there silently receiving instruction.
+His eyes burned through the dusk as he listened to the dark little man
+who spoke with a note of authority and decision in his voice. His words
+conveyed to Mose a conception of the Indian new to him. These "red
+devils" were people. In this man's talk they were husbands and fathers,
+and sons, and brothers. They loved these lands for which the cattlemen
+and sheepmen were now about to battle, and they had been dispossessed by
+the power of the United States Army, not by law and justice. A desire to
+know more of them, to see them in their homes, to understand their way
+of thinking, sprang up in the boy's brain.</p>
+
+<p>He edged over close to the plainsman and, in a pause in the talk,
+whispered to him: "I want you to tell me more about the Indians."</p>
+
+<p>The other man turned quickly and said: "Boy, they're my friends. In a
+show-down I'm on their side; my father was a half-breed."</p>
+
+<p>The night passed quietly and nearly all the men went home, leaving the
+Pratts to meet the storm alone, but Jennison<a class="pagenum" title="109" name="page_109" id="page_109"></a> had a final word. "You send
+your boy to yon butte, and wave a hat any time during the day and we'll
+come, side arms ready. I'll keep an eye on the butte all day and come up
+and see you to-night. Don't let 'em get the drop on ye."</p>
+
+<p>It was not until the third day that Williams, riding the line in person,
+came upon the new settler. He sat upon his horse and swore. His face was
+dark with passion, but after a few minutes' pause he drew rein and rode
+away.</p>
+
+<p>"Another butter maker," he said to his men as he slipped from the
+saddle at his own door, "some ten miles up the river."</p>
+
+<p>"Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"Next to Pratt's. I reckon it's that brother o' his he's been talking
+about. They cut my wires and squatted on the Rosebud flat."</p>
+
+<p>"Give the word and we'll run 'em out," said one of his men. "Every
+son-of-a-gun of 'em."</p>
+
+<p>Williams shook his head. "No, that won't do. W've got to go slow in
+rippin' these squatters out o' their holes. They anchor right down to
+the roots of the tree of life. I reckon we've got to let 'em creep in;
+we'll scare 'em all we can before they settle, but when they settle
+we've got to go around 'em. If the<a class="pagenum" title="110" name="page_110" id="page_110"></a> man was a stranger we might do
+something, but Jake Pratt don't bluff&mdash;besides, boys, I've got worse
+news for you."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that?"</p>
+
+<p>"A couple of Mexicans with five thousand sheep crossed Lizard Creek
+yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>The boys leaped to their feet, variously crying out: "Oh, come off! It
+can't be true."</p>
+
+<p>"It is true&mdash;I saw 'em myself," insisted Williams.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that means war. Does the V. T. outfit know it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think so. We've got to stand together now, or we'll be overrun
+with sheep. The truck farmers are a small matter compared to these
+cursed greasers."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess we'd better send word up the river, hadn't we?" asked his
+partner.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we want to let the whole county know it."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="111" name="page_111" id="page_111"></a></p>
+<p>Cheyenne County was an enormous expanse of hilly plain, if the two words
+may be used together. Low heights of sharp ascent, pyramid-shaped
+buttes, and wide benches (cut here and there by small creek valleys)
+made up its surface, which, broadly considered, was only the vast,
+treeless, slowly-rising eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains. At long
+distances, on the flat, sandy river, groups of squat and squalid ranch
+buildings huddled as if to escape the wind. For years it has been a
+superb range for cattle, and up till the coming of the first settlements
+on the Cannon Ball, it had been parceled out among a few big firms, who
+cut Government timber, dug Government stone, and pastured on Government
+grass. When the wolves took a few ponies, the ranchers seized the
+opportunity to make furious outcry and bring in the Government troops to
+keep the Indians in awe, and so possessed the land in serenity. Nothing
+could be more perfect, more commodious.</p>
+
+<p>But for several years before the coming of the Pratts certain other
+ominous events were taking place. Over the mountains from the West, or
+up the slope from New Mexico, enormous herds of small, greasy sheep
+began to appear. They were "walking" for better pasture, and where they
+went they destroyed the grasses and poisoned the ground with foul odors.
+Cattle and horses would not touch any grass which had been even touched
+by these ill-smelling woolly creatures. There had been ill-feeling
+between sheepmen and cattlemen from the first, but as water became
+scarcer and the range more fully stocked, bitterness developed into
+hatred and warfare. Sheep herders were considered outcasts, and of no
+social account. To kill one was by some considered a kindness, for it
+ended the misery of a man who would go crazy watching the shifting,
+crawling maggots anyway. It was bad enough to be a cow milker, but to be
+a sheep herder was living death.</p>
+
+<p>These herds thickened from year to year. They followed the feed, were
+clipped once, s<a class="pagenum" title="112" name="page_112" id="page_112"></a>ometimes twice, and then were headed back to winter in
+the south, dying in myriads on the way&mdash;only to reappear augmented in
+numbers the succeeding year. They were worthless as mutton, and at first
+were never shipped, but as the flocks were graded up, the best were
+culled and sent to Eastern markets. They menaced the cattlemen in the
+West and South, while the rancher made slow but inexorable advance on
+the East. As the cattleman came to understand this his face grew dark
+and sullen, but thus far no herd had entered the Big Sandy Range, though
+Williams feared their coming and was ready to do battle.</p>
+
+<p>At the precise time that Daniel Pratt was entering Cheyenne County from
+the East, a Mexican sheepman was moving toward the Cannon Ball from the
+Southwest, walking behind ten thousand sheep, leaving a dusty, bare and
+stinking trail behind him. Williams' report drew the attention of the
+cattlemen, and the Pratts were for the time forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>A few days after Daniel's assault on the fences of the big ranch, a
+conference of cattlemen met and appointed a committee to wait upon the
+owner of the approaching flock of sheep. The Pratts heard of this, and,
+for reasons of their own, determined to be present. Mose, eager to see
+the outcome of these exciting movements, accompanied the Pratts on their
+ride over the hills.</p>
+
+<p>They found the man and his herders encamped on the bank of a little
+stream in a smooth <a class="pagenum" title="113" name="page_113" id="page_113"></a>and beautiful valley. He had a covered wagon and a
+small tent, and a team of hobbled horses was feeding near. Before the
+farmers had time to cross the stream the cattlemen came in sight, riding
+rapidly, and the Pratts waited for them to come up. As they halted on
+the opposite bank of the stream the sheep owner came out of his tent
+with a rifle in his arm and advanced calmly to meet them.</p>
+
+<p>"Good evening, gentlemen," he called pleasantly, but the slant of his
+chin was significant. He was a tall, thin man with a long beard. He wore
+an ordinary sombrero, with wide, stiff brim, a gray shirt, and loose,
+gray trousers. At his belt, and significantly in front and buttoned
+down, hung two splendid revolvers. Aside from these weapons, he looked
+like a clergyman camping for the summer.</p>
+
+<p>Hitching their horses to the stunted willow and cottonwood trees, the
+committee approached the tent, and Williams, of Circle Bar, became
+spokesman: "We have come," he said, "to make a statement. We are
+peaceably disposed, but would like to state our side of the case. The
+range into which you are walking your sheep is already overstocked with
+cattle and horses, and we are going to suffer, for you know very well
+cattle will not follow sheep. The comi<a class="pagenum" title="114" name="page_114" id="page_114"></a>ng of your flock is likely to
+bring others, and we can't stand it. We have come to ask you to keep off
+our range. We have been to big expense to build sheds and fences, and we
+can't afford to have sheep thrown in on us."</p>
+
+<p>To this the sheepman made calm reply. He said: "Gentlemen, all that you
+have said is true, but it does not interest me. This land belongs as
+much to me as to you. By law you can hold only one quarter section each
+by squatters' right. That right I shall respect, but no more. I shall
+drive my sheep anywhere on grounds not actually occupied by your feeding
+cattle. Neither you nor I have much more time to do this kind of thing.
+The small settler is coming westward. Until he comes I propose to have
+my share of Government grass."</p>
+
+<p>The meeting grew stormy. Williams, of Circle Bar, counselled moderation.
+Others were for beginning war at once. "If this man is looking for
+trouble he can easily find it," one of them said.</p>
+
+<p>The sheepman grimly replied: "I have the reputation in my country of
+taking care of myself." He drew a revolver and laid it affectionately in
+the hollow of his folded left arm. "I have two of these, and in a mix-up
+with me, somebody generally gets hurt."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="115" name="page_115" id="page_115"></a></p>
+<p>There was deadly serenity in the stranger's utterance, and the cowboys
+allowed themselves to be persuaded into peace measures, though some went
+so far as to handle guns also. They withdrew for a conference, and Jake
+said: "Stranger, we're with you in this fight; we're truck farmers at
+the mouth o' the Cannon Ball. My name is Pratt."</p>
+
+<p>The sheepman smiled pleasantly. "Mighty glad to know you, Mr. Pratt. My
+name is Delmar."</p>
+
+<p>"This is my brother Dan," said Jake, "and this is his herder."</p>
+
+<p>When Mose took the small, firm hand of the sheepman and looked into his
+face he liked him, and the stranger returned his liking. "Your fight is
+mine, gentlemen," he said. "These cattlemen are holding back settlement
+for their own selfish purposes."</p>
+
+<p>Williams, returning at this point, began speaking, but with effort, and
+without looking at Delmar. "We don't want any fuss, so I want to make
+this proposition. You take the north side of the Cannon Ball above the
+main trail, and we'll keep the south side an<a class="pagenum" title="116" name="page_116" id="page_116"></a>d all the grass up to the
+trail. That'll give you range enough for your herd and will save
+trouble. We've had all the trouble we want. I don't want any gun-work
+myself."</p>
+
+<p>To this the stranger said: "Very well. I'll go look at the ground. If it
+will support my sheep I'll keep them on it. I claim to be a reasonable
+man also, and I've had troubles in my time, and now with a family
+growing up on my hands I'm just as anxious to live peaceable with my
+fellow-citizens as any man, but I want to say to you that I'm a mean man
+when you try to drive me."</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon he shook hands with Williams and several others of the older
+men. After most of the cattlemen had ridden away, Jake said, "Well, now,
+we'll be glad to see you over at our shack at the mouth o' the Cannon
+Ball." He held out his hand and the sheepman shook it heartily. As he
+was saying good-by the sheep owner's eyes dwelt keenly on Mose.
+"Youngster, you're a good ways from home and mother."</p>
+
+<p>Mose blushed, as became a youth, and said: "I'm camping in my hat these
+days."</p>
+
+<p>The sheepman smiled. "So am I, but I've got a wife and two daughters
+back in Santy Fay. Come and see me. I like your buil<a class="pagenum" title="117" name="page_117" id="page_117"></a>d. Well, gentlemen,
+just call on me at any time you need me. I'll see that my sheep don't
+trouble you."</p>
+
+<p>"All right; you do the same," replied the Pratts.</p>
+
+<p>"You fellows hold the winning hand," said Delmar; "the small rancher
+will sure wipe the sheepman out in time. I've got sense enough to see
+that. You can't fight the progress of events. Youngster, you belong to
+the winning side," he ended, turning to Mose, "but it's the unpopular
+side just now."</p>
+
+<p>All this was epic business into which to plunge a boy of eighteen whose
+hot blood tingled with electric fire at sight of a weapon in the hands
+of roused and resolute men. He redoubled his revolver practice, and
+through Daniel's gossip and especially through the boasting of Jennie,
+his skill with the revolver soon became known to Delmar, who invited him
+to visit him for a trial of skill. "I used to shoot a little myself," he
+said; "come over and we'll try conclusions."</p>
+
+<p>Out of this friendly contest the youth emerged very humble. The old
+sheepman dazzled him with his cunning. He shot equally well from either
+hand. He could walk by a tree, wheel suddenly, and fire both revolvers
+over his shoulders, putting the two bullets within an inch of each
+other. "That's for use when a man is sneaking onto you from behin<a class="pagenum" title="118" name="page_118" id="page_118"></a>d," he
+explained. "I never used it but once, but it saved my life." He could
+fire two shots before Mose could get his pistol from his holster. "A gun
+is of no use, youngster, unless you can get it into action before the
+other man. Sling your holster in front and tie it down when you're going
+to war, and never let a man come to close quarters with you. The secret
+of success is to be just a half second ahead of the other man. It saves
+blood, too."</p>
+
+<p>His hands were quick and sure as the rattlesnake's black, forked tongue.
+He seemed not to aim&mdash;he appeared to shoot from his fist rather than
+from the extended weapon, and when he had finished Mose said:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm much obliged, Mr. Delmar; I see I didn't know the a b c's&mdash;but you
+try me again in six months."</p>
+
+<p>The sheepman smiled. "You've got the stuff in you, youngster. If you
+ever get in a serious place, and I'm in reaching distance, let me know
+and I'll open a way out for you. Meanwhile, I can make use of you as you
+are. I need another man. My Mexicans are no company for me. Come over
+and help me; I'll pay you well and you can have the same fare that I eat
+myself. I get lonesome as the old boy."</p>
+
+<p>Thus it came about that Mose, without realizing it, became that
+despised, forlorn thing, a sheep herder. He made a serious social
+mistake when he<a class="pagenum" title="119" name="page_119" id="page_119"></a> "lined up" with the truck farmers, the tenderfeet and
+the "greaser" sheep herders, and cut out "a great gob of trouble" for
+himself in Cheyenne County.</p>
+
+<p>He admired Delmar most fervidly, and liked him. There was a quality in
+his speech which appealed to the eagle's heart in the boy. The Pratts no
+longer interested him; they had settled down into farmers. They had
+nothing for him to do but plow and dig roots, for which he had no love.
+He had not ridden into this wild and splendid country to bend his back
+over a spade. One day he accepted Delmar's offer and rode home to get
+his few little trinkets and to say good-by.</p>
+
+<p>Another reason why he had accepted Delmar's offer lay in the growing
+annoyance of Jennie's courtship. She made no effort to conceal her
+growing passion. She put herself in his way and laid hands on him with
+unblushing frankness. Her love chatter wearied him beyond measure, and
+he became cruelly short and evasive. Her speech grew sillier as she lost
+her tomboy interests, and Mose avoided her studiously.</p>
+
+<p>That night as he rode up Daniel was at the barn. To him Mose repeated
+Delmar's offer.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="120" name="page_120" id="page_120"></a></p>
+<p>Pratt at once said: "I don't blame ye fer pullin' out, Mose. I done the
+best I could, considerin'. Co'se I can't begin fer to pay ye the wages
+Delmar can, but be keerful; trouble is comin', shore pop, and I'd hate
+to have ye killed, on the wimmen's account. They 'pear to think more o'
+you than they do o' me."</p>
+
+<p>Jennie's eyes filled with tears when Mose told her of his new job. She
+looked very sad and wistful and more interesting than ever before in her
+life as she came out to say good-by.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Mose, I reckon you're goin' for good?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not so very far," he said, in generous wish to ease her over the
+parting.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll come 'round once in a while, won't ye?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, sure! It's only twenty miles over to the camp."</p>
+
+<p>"Come over Sundays, an' we'll have potpie and soda biscuits fer ye," she
+said, with a feminine reliance on the power of food.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," he replied with a smile, and abruptly galloped away.</p>
+
+<p>His heart w<a class="pagenum" title="121" name="page_121" id="page_121"></a>as light with the freedom of his new condition. He considered
+himself a man now. His wages were definite, and no distinction was drawn
+between him and Delmar himself. Besides, the immense flock of sheep
+interested him at first.</p>
+
+<p>His duties were simple. By day he helped to guide the sheep gently to
+their feeding and in their search for water; by night he took his turn
+at guarding from wolves. His sleep was broken often, even when not on
+guard. They were such timid folk, these sheep; their fears passed easily
+into destructive precipitances.</p>
+
+<p>But the night watch had its joys. As the sunlight died out of the sky
+and the blazing stars filled the deep blue air above his head, the
+world grew mysterious and majestic, as well as menacing. The wolves
+clamored from the buttes, which arose on all sides like domes of a
+sleeping city. Crickets cried in the grass, drowsily, and out of the
+dimness and dusk something vast, like a passion too great for words,
+fell upon the boy. He turned his face to the unknown West. There the
+wild creatures dwelt; there were the beings who knew nothing of books or
+towns and toil. There life was governed by the ways of the wind, the
+curve of the streams, the height of the trees&mdash;there&mdash;just over the edge
+of the plain, the mountains dwelt, waiting for him.</p>
+
+<p>Then his heart ached like that of a <a class="pagenum" title="122" name="page_122" id="page_122"></a>young eagle looking from his natal
+rock into the dim valley, miles below. At such times the youth knew he
+had not yet reached the land his heart desired. All this was only
+resting by the way.</p>
+
+<p>At such times, too, in spite of all, he thought of Mary and of Jack;
+they alone formed his attachments to the East. All else was valueless.
+To have had them with him in this land would have put his heart entirely
+at rest.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="123" name="page_123" id="page_123"></a>
+<a name="WAR_ON_THE_CANNON_BALL" id="WAR_ON_THE_CANNON_BALL"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+<h3>WAR ON THE CANNON BALL</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The autumn was very dry, and as the feed grew short on his side of the
+Cannon Ball, Delmar said to his boss herder, "Drive the herd over the
+trail, keeping as close to the boundary as you can. The valley through
+which the road runs will keep us till November, I reckon."</p>
+
+<p>Of this Mose knew nothing, and when he saw the sheep drifting across the
+line he set forth to turn them. The herder shouted, "Hold on, Mose; let
+'em go."</p>
+
+<p>Mose did as he was ordered, but looked around nervously, expecting a
+charge of cattlemen. Delmar laughed. "Don't worry; they won't make any
+trouble."</p>
+
+<p>A couple of days later a squad of cowboys came riding furiously over the
+hill. "See here!" they called to Mose, "you turn that stinkin' river of
+sheep back over the line."</p>
+
+<p>Mose shouted a reply: "I'm not the boss; go talk to him. And, say! you'd
+better change your tune when you whistle into his ear."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, hell!" said one contemptuously. "It's that tenderfoot of Pratt's."
+They rode to the older herder, who laughed at them. "Settle with the
+'old man,'" he said. "I'm under orders to feed these sheep and I'm goin'
+to do it."</p>
+
+<p>"You take them sheep back on your range or you won't have any to feed,"
+said one of the cowboys.</p>
+
+<p>The herder blew a whiff from his lips as if blowing away thistle down.
+"Run awa<a class="pagenum" title="124" name="page_124" id="page_124"></a>y, little ones, you disturb my siesta."</p>
+
+<p>With blistering curses on him and his sheep, the cowboys rode to the top
+of the hill, and there, turning, fired twice at the herder, wounding him
+in the arm. The Mexican returned the fire, but to no effect.</p>
+
+<p>When Mose reported this, Delmar's eyebrows drew down over his hawklike
+eyes. "That's all right," he said ominously. "If they want war they'll
+get it."</p>
+
+<p>A few days later he rode over toward the Circle Bar Ranch house. On the
+way he overtook Williams, riding along alone. Williams did not hear
+Delmar till he called sharply, "Throw up your hands."</p>
+
+<p>Williams quickly complied. "Don't shoot&mdash;for God's sake!" he called,
+with his hands quivering above his head. He had heard of Delmar's skill
+with weapons.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Williams," Delmar began with sinister formality, "your men have
+been shooting my herders."</p>
+
+<p>"Not by my orders, Mr. Delmar; I never sanction&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"See here, Williams, you are responsible for your cowboys, just as I am
+for my Mexicans. It's low-down business for you to shoot my men who are
+working for me at fifteen dollars a month. I'm the responsible
+party&mdash;I'm the man to kill. I want to say right here that I hold you
+accountable, and if your men maim one of my herders or open fire on 'em
+again I'll hunt you down and kill you like a wolf. Now <a class="pagenum" title="125" name="page_125" id="page_125"></a>ride on, and if
+you look back before you top that divide I'll put a bullet through you.
+Good-day."</p>
+
+<p>Williams rode away furiously and was not curious at all; he topped the
+divide without stopping. Delmar smiled grimly as he wheeled his horse
+and started homeward.</p>
+
+<p>On the same day, as Mose was lying on the point of a grassy mesa,
+watching the sheep swarming about a water hole in the valley below, he
+saw a cloud of dust rising far up to the north. While he wondered, he
+heard a wild, rumbling, trampling sound. Could it be a herd of buffalo?
+His blood thrilled with the hope of it. His sheep were forgotten as the
+roar increased and wild yells came faintly to his ears. As he jerked
+his revolver from its holder, around the end of the mesa a herd of wild
+horses swept, swift as antelope, with tails streaming, with eyes
+flashing, and behind them, urging them on, whooping, yelling, shooting,
+came a band of cowboys, their arms flopping, their kerchiefs streaming.</p>
+
+<p>A gasping shout arose from below. "The sheep! the sheep!" Mose turned
+and saw the other herders rushing for their horses. He realized then the
+danger to the flock. The horses were sweeping like a railway train
+straight down upon the gray, dusty, hot river of woolly flesh. Mose
+shuddered with horror and pity&mdash;a moment later and the drove, led by a
+powerful and vicious brown mare, drove like a wedge straight into the
+helpless herd, and, leaping, plunging, kicking, stumbling, the powerful
+and swift little bronchos crossed, careering on down the valley, leaving
+hundreds of d<a class="pagenum" title="126" name="page_126" id="page_126"></a>ead, wounded, and mangled sheep in their path. The cowboys
+swept on after them with exultant whooping, firing their revolvers at
+the Mexican herders, who stood in a daze over their torn and mangled
+herd.</p>
+
+<p>When Mose recovered from his stupefaction, his own horse was galloping
+in circles, his picket rope dragging, and the boss herder was swearing
+with a belated malignity which was ludicrous. He swept together into
+one steady outpour all the native and alien oaths he had ever heard in a
+long and eventful career among profane persons. When Mose recovered his
+horse and rode up to him, Jose was still swearing. He was walking among
+the wounded sheep, shooting those which he considered helplessly
+injured. His mouth was dry, his voice husky, and on his lips foam lay in
+yellow flecks. He ceased to imprecate only when, by repetition, his
+oaths became too inexpressive to be worth while.</p>
+
+<p>Mose's heart was boyishly tender for any animal, and to see the gentle
+creatures mangled, writhing and tumbling, uttering most piteous cries,
+touched him so deeply that he wept. He had no inclination to swear until
+afterward, when the full knowledge that it was a trick and not an
+accident came to him. He started at once for the camp to carry the black
+news.</p>
+
+<p>Delmar did not swear when Mose told him what had happened. He saddled
+his horse, and, buckling his revolvers about him said, "Come on,
+youngster; I'm<a class="pagenum" title="127" name="page_127" id="page_127"></a> going over to see about this."</p>
+
+<p>Mose felt the blood of his heart thicken and grow cold. There was a
+deadly resolution in Delmar's deliberate action. Prevision of a bloody
+fray filled the boy's mind, but he could not retreat. He could not let
+his boss go alone into an enemy's country; therefore he rode silently
+after.</p>
+
+<p>Delmar galloped steadily on toward the Circle Bar Ranch house. Mile
+after mile was traversed at steady gallop till the powerful little
+ponies streamed with salty sweat. At last Delmar drew rein and allowed
+Mose to ride by his side.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't be alarmed," he said in a kindly tone; "these hounds won't
+shoot; they're going to evade it, but I shall hold 'em to it&mdash;trust me,
+my boy."</p>
+
+<p>As they topped a ridge and looked down into Willow Creek, where the
+Ranch house stood, several horsemen could be seen riding in from the
+opposite side, and quite a group of men waited Delmar's approach, and
+every man was armed. Each face wore a look of constraint, though one man
+advanced hospitably. "Good afternoon, gentlem<a class="pagenum" title="128" name="page_128" id="page_128"></a>en; ride your horses right
+into the corral, and the boys'll take the saddles off."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Williams?" asked Delmar as he slid from his horse.</p>
+
+<p>"Gone to town; anything I can do for you? I'm his boss."</p>
+
+<p>"You tell Mr. Williams," said Delmar, with menacing calm, "I came to
+tell him that a drove of horses belonging partly to you and partly to
+Hartley, of The Horseshoe, were stampeded through my sheep yesterday,
+killing over two hundred of them."</p>
+
+<p>Conrad replied softly: "I know, I know! I just heard of it. Too bad! but
+you understand how it is. Herds get going that way, and you can't stop
+'em nor head 'em off."</p>
+
+<p>"Your men didn't try to head 'em off."</p>
+
+<p>"How about that, boys?" inquired Conrad, turning to the younger men.</p>
+
+<p>A long, freckled, grinning ape stepped forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it was this way: we was a-tryin' to head the herd off, and we
+didn't see the sh<a class="pagenum" title="129" name="page_129" id="page_129"></a>eep till we was right into 'em&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That's a lie!" said Mose. "You drove the horses right down the valley
+into the sheep. I saw you do it."</p>
+
+<p>"You call me a liar and I'll blow your heart out," shouted the cowboy,
+dropping his hand to his revolver.</p>
+
+<p>"Halt!" said Delmar. "Easy now, you young cockalorum. It ain't useful to
+start shooting where Andrew Delmar is."</p>
+
+<p>Conrad spoke sharply: "Jim, shut up." Turning to Mose, "Where did it
+happen?"</p>
+
+<p>"In Boulder Creek, just south of the road."</p>
+
+<p>Conrad turned to Delmar in mock surprise. "<i>South</i> of the road! Your
+sheep must o' strayed over the line, Mr. Delmar. As they was on our
+side of the range I don't see that I can do anything for you. If they'd
+been on the north side&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That'll do," interrupted Delmar. "I told you that so long as the north
+side fed my sheep I would keep them there to accommodate your stockmen.
+I give notice now that I shall feed where I please, and I shall be with
+my sheep night and day, and the next man that crosses my sheep will<a class="pagenum" title="130" name="page_130" id="page_130"></a>
+leave his bones in the grass with the dead sheep, and likely a horse or
+two besides." He stepped toward Conrad. "Williams has had his warning; I
+give you yours. I hold you responsible for every shot fired at my men.
+If one of my men is shot I'll kill you and Williams at sight. Good-day."</p>
+
+<p>"What'll <i>we</i> do?" called one of the cowboys.</p>
+
+<p>Delmar turned, and his eyes took on a wild glare.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll send you to hell so quick you won't be able to open your mouth.
+Throw up your hands!" The man's hands went up. "Why, I'd ear-mark ye and
+slit each nostril for a leather button&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Conrad strove for peace. "Be easy on him, Delmar; he's a crazy fool,
+anyway; he don't know you."</p>
+
+<p>"He will after this," said Delmar. "I'll trouble you, Mr. Conrad, to
+collect all the guns from your men." Mose drew his revolver. "My boy
+here is handy too. I don't care to be shot in the back as I ride away.
+Drop your guns, every scab of ye!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be d&mdash;&mdash;d if I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Drop it!" snapped out Delmar, and the tone of his voice was terrible to
+hear. Mose's heart stopped beating; he held his breath, expecting the
+shooting to begin.</p>
+
+<p>Conrad was white with fear as he said: "Give 'em up, boys. He's a
+desperate man. Don't shoot, you fools!"</p>
+
+<p>One by one, with a certain amount of bluster on the part of two, the
+cowboys dropped their<a class="pagenum" title="131" name="page_131" id="page_131"></a> guns, and Delmar said: "Gather 'em in, Mose."</p>
+
+<p>Mose leaped from his horse and gathered the weapons up. Delmar thrust
+the revolvers into his pockets, and handed one Winchester to Mose.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll find your guns on that rise beside yon rock," said Delmar, "and
+when we meet again, it will be Merry War. Good-day!"</p>
+
+<p>An angry man knows no line of moderation. Delmar, having declared war,
+carried it to the door of the enemy. Accompanying the sheep himself, he
+drove them into the fairest feeding-places beside the clearest streams.
+He spared no pains to irritate the cattlemen, and Mose, who alone of
+all the outsiders realized to the full his terrible skill with weapons,
+looked forward with profound dread to the fight which was sure to
+follow.</p>
+
+<p>He dreaded the encounter for another reason. He had no definite plan of
+action to follow in his own case. A dozen times a day he said to
+himself: "Am I a coward?" His stomach failed him, and he ate so
+sparingly that it was commented upon by the more hardened men. He was
+the greater troubled because a letter from Jack came during this stormy
+time, wherein occurred this paragraph: "Mary came back to the autumn
+term. Her mother is dead, a<a class="pagenum" title="132" name="page_132" id="page_132"></a>nd she looks very pale and sad. She asked
+where you were and said: 'Please tell him that I hope he will come home
+safe, and that I am sorry I could not see him before he went away.'"</p>
+
+<p>All the bitterness in his heart long stored up against her passed away
+in a moment, and sitting there on the wide plain, under the burning sun,
+he closed his eyes in order to see once more, in the cold gray light of
+the prison, that pale, grave girl with the glorious eyes. He saw her,
+too, as Jack saw her, her gravity turned into sadness, her pallor into
+the paleness of grief and ill health. He admitted now that no reason
+existed why she should write to him while her mother lay dying. All
+cause for hardness of heart was passed away. The tears came to his eyes
+and he longed for the sight of her face. For a moment the boy's wild
+heart grew tender.</p>
+
+<p>He wrote her a letter that night, and it ran as well as he could hope
+for, as he re-read it next day on his way to the post office twenty
+miles away.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>"DEAR MARY: Jack has just sent me a long letter and has told
+me what you said. I hope you will forgive me. I thought you
+didn't want to see me or write to me. I didn't know your
+mother was sick. I thought you ought to have written to me,
+but, of course, I understand now. I hope you will write in
+answer to this and send your picture to me. You see I never
+saw you in daylight and I'm afraid I'll forget how you look.</p>
+
+<p>&#34;Well, I'm out in the wild country, but it ain't what I
+<a class="pagenum" title="133" name="page_133" id="page_133"></a>want.
+I don't like it here. The cowboys are all the time
+rowin'. There ain't much game here neither. I kill an
+antelope once in a while, or a deer down on the bottoms, but
+I haven't seen a bear or a buffalo yet. I want to go to the
+mountains now. This country is too tame for me. They say you
+can see the Rockies from a place about one hundred miles from
+here. Some day I'm going to ride over there and take a
+look. I haven't seen any Indians yet. We are likely to have
+shooting soon.</p>
+
+<p>&#34;If you write, address to Running Bear, Cheyenne County, and
+I'll get it. I'll go down again in two weeks. Since Jack
+wrote I want to see you awful bad, but of course it can't be
+done, so write me a long letter.</p>
+
+<p style="text-align:right; margin-right:10%;">&#34;Yours respectfully,</p>
+<p style="text-align:right; margin-top: -0.75em;">&#34;HAROLD EXCELL.</p>
+
+<p>&#34;Address your letter to Mose Harding, they don't know my real
+name out here. I'll try to keep out of trouble."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>He arrived in Running Bear just at dusk, and <a class="pagenum" title="134" name="page_134" id="page_134"></a>went straight to the post
+office, which was in an ill-smelling grocery. Nothing more forlornly
+disreputable than "the Beast" (as the cowboys called the town) existed
+in the State. It was built on the low flat of the Big Sandy, and was
+composed of log huts (beginning already to rot at the corners) and
+unpainted shanties of pine, gray as granite, under wind and sun. There
+were two "hotels," where for "two bits" one could secure a dish of
+evil-smelling ham and eggs and some fried potatoes, and there were six
+saloons, where one could secure equally evil-minded whisky at ten cents
+a glass. A couple of rude groceries completed the necessary equipment
+of a "cow-town."</p>
+
+<p>There was no allurement to vice in such a place as this so far as Mose
+was concerned, but a bunch of cowboys had just ridden in for "a good
+time," and to reach the post office he was forced to pass them. They
+studied him narrowly in the dusk, and one fellow said:</p>
+
+<p>"That's Delmar's sheep herder; let's have some fun with him. Let's
+convert him."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, let him alone; he's only a kid."</p>
+
+<p>"Kid! He's big as he'll ever be. I'm g<a class="pagenum" title="135" name="page_135" id="page_135"></a>oin' to string him a few when he
+comes out."</p>
+
+<p>Mose's breath was very short as he posted his letter, for trouble was in
+the air. He tried his revolvers to see that they were free in their
+holsters, and wiped the sweat from his hands and face with his big
+bandanna. He entered into conversation with the storekeeper, hoping the
+belligerent gang would ride away. They had no such intention, but went
+into a saloon next door to drink, keeping watch for Mose. One of them, a
+slim, consumptive-chested man, grew drunk first. He was entirely
+harmless when sober, and served as the butt of all jokes, but the evil
+liquor paralyzed the small knot of gray matter over his eyes and set
+loose his irresponsible lower centers. He threw his hat on the ground
+and defied the world in a voice absurdly large and strenuous.</p>
+
+<p>His thin arms swung aimlessly, and his roaring voice had no more heart
+in it than the blare of a tin horn. His eyes wandered from face to face
+in the circle of his grinning companions who egged him on.</p>
+
+<p>His insane, reeling capers vastly amused them. One or two, almost as
+drunk as he, occasionally wrestled with him, and they rolled in the dust
+like dirty bear cubs. They were helpless so far as physical struggle
+went, but, unfortunately, shooting was a second nature to them, and
+their hands were deadly.</p>
+
+<p>As Mose came out <a class="pagenum" title="136" name="page_136" id="page_136"></a>to mount his horse the crowd saw him, and one vicious
+voice called out:</p>
+
+<p>"Here, Bill, here's a sheep walker can do you up."</p>
+
+<p>The crowd whooped with keen delight, and streaming over, surrounded
+Mose, who stood at bay not far from his horse in the darkness&mdash;a sudden
+numbness in his limbs.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want o' me?" he asked. "I've nothing to do with you." He
+knew that this crowd would have no mercy on him and his heart almost
+failed him.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's a man wants to lick you," replied one of the herders.</p>
+
+<p>The drunken man was calling somewhere in the crowd, "Where is he? Lemme
+get at him." The ring opened and he reeled through and up to Mose, who
+was standing ominously quiet beside his horse. Bill seized him by the
+collar and said: "You want 'o fight?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Mose, too angry at the crowd to humor the drunken fool. "You
+take him away or he'll get hurt."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he will, will he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Go for him, Bill," yelled the crowd in glee.<a class="pagenum" title="137" name="page_137" id="page_137"></a></p>
+
+<p>The drunken fool gave Mose a tug. "Come 'ere!" he said with an oath.</p>
+
+<p>"Let go o' me," said Mose, his heart swelling with wrath.</p>
+
+<p>The drunken one aimlessly cuffed him. Then the blood-red film dropped
+over the young eagle's eyes. He struck out and his assailant went down.
+Then his revolvers began to speak and the crowd fell back. They rolled,
+leaped, or crawled to shelter, and when the bloody mist cleared away
+from his brain, Mose found himself in his saddle, his swift pony
+galloping hard up the street, with pistols cracking behind him. His
+blood was still hot with the murderous rage which had blinded his eyes.
+He did not know whether he had begun to shoot first or not, he did not
+know whether he had killed any of the ruffians or not, but he had a
+smarting wound in the shoulder, from which he could feel the wet, warm
+blood trickling down.</p>
+
+<p>Once he drew his horse to a walk, and half turned him to go back and
+face the mob, which he could hear shouting behind him, but the thought
+of his wound, and the fear that his horse had also been hit, led him to
+ride on. He made a detour on the plain, and entered a ravine which
+concealed him from the town, and there alighted to feel of his horse's
+limbs, fearing each moment to come upon a wound, but he was unhurt, and
+as the blood had ceased to flow from his own wound, the youth swung into
+his saddle and made off into the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>He heard no sound of his pursuers, but, nevertheless, rode on rapidly,
+keeping the west wind in his face and wa<a class="pagenum" title="138" name="page_138" id="page_138"></a>tching sharply for fences. At
+length he found his way back to the river trail and the horse galloped
+steadily homeward. As he rode the boy grew very sad and discouraged. He
+had again given away to the spirit of murder. Again he had intended to
+kill, and he seemed to see two falling figures; one, the man he had
+smitten with his fist, the other one whose revolver was flashing fire as
+he fell.</p>
+
+<p>Then he thought of Mary and the sad look in her eyes when she should
+hear of his fighting again. She would not be able to get at the true
+story. She would not know that these men attacked him first and that he
+fought in self-defense. He thought of his father, also, with a certain
+tenderness, remembering how he had stood by him in his trial. "Who will
+stand by me now?" he asked himself, and the thought of the Pratts helped
+him. Delmar, he felt sure, would defend him, but he knew the customs of
+the cattle country too well to think the matter ended there. He must
+hereafter shoot or be shot. If these men met him again he must disable
+them instantly or die. "Hadn't I better just keep right on riding?" he
+kept asking some sense within him, but decided at last to return to
+Delmar.</p>
+
+<p>It was deep night when he reached the camp, and his horse was covered
+with foam. Delmar was sitting by the camp fire as he came in from the
+dark.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, boy, what's up?"<a class="pagenum" title="139" name="page_139" id="page_139"></a></p>
+
+<p>Mose told him the whole story in a few incoherent phrases. The old man
+examined and dressed his wound, but remained curiously silent throughout
+the story. At last he said: "See here, my lad; let me tell you, this is
+serious business. I don't mean this scratch of a bullet&mdash;don't you be
+uneasy about that; but this whole row is mine. They haven't any grudge
+against you, but you're a sheep herder for me, and that is bad business
+just now. If you've killed a man they'll come a-rippin' up here about
+daylight with a warrant. You can't get justice in this country. You'll
+face a cowboy jury and it'll go hard with you. There's just one thing to
+do: you've got to git right close to where the west winds come from and
+do it quick. Throw the saddles on Bone and Rusty, and we'll hit the
+trail. I know a man who'll take care of you."</p>
+
+<p>He whistled a signal and one of the herders came in: "Send Pablo here,"
+he said. "Now, roll up any little trinkets that you want to take with
+you," he said a few minutes later as they were saddling the two
+bronchos. "You can't afford to stay here and face this thing; I had no
+business to set you on the wrong side. I knew better all the time, but I
+liked you, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The herder came in. "Pablo, I'm going across country on a little
+business. If anybody comes asking for me or Mose <a class="pagenum" title="140" name="page_140" id="page_140"></a>here, say you don't
+know where we went, but that you expect us back about noon. Be ready to
+shoot to-day; some of these cowboys may try to stampede you again while
+I'm gone."</p>
+
+<p>"You better stay and look after the sheep," began Mose as they started
+away, "you can't afford&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, to hell with the sheep. I got you into this scrape and I'll see you
+out of it."</p>
+
+<p>As they galloped away, leading Mose's worn pony, Delmar continued:
+"You're too young to start in as a killer. You've got somebody back in
+the States who thinks you're out here making a man of yourself, and I
+like you too well to see you done up by these dirty cow-country lawyers.
+I'm going to quit the country myself after this fall shipment, and I
+want you to come down my way some time. You better stay up here till
+spring."</p>
+
+<p>They rode steadily till daylight, and then Delmar said: "Now I think
+you're perfectly safe, for this reason: These cusses know you came into
+the country with Pratt, and they'll likely ride over and search the
+Cannon Ball settlement. I'll ride around that way and detain 'em awhile
+and make 'em think <a class="pagenum" title="141" name="page_141" id="page_141"></a>you're hiding out, while you make tracks for upper
+country. You keep this river trail. Don't ride too hard, as if you was
+runnin' away, but keep a steady gait, and give your horse one hour out
+o' four to feed. Here's a little snack: don't waste time, but slide
+along without sleeping as long as you can.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll come in sight of the mountains about noon, and you'll see a big
+bunch o' snowpeaks off to the left. Make straight for that, and after
+you go about one day bear sharp to the left, begin to inquire for Bob
+Reynolds on the Arickaree&mdash;everybody knows Bob. Just give him this note
+and tell him the whole business; he'll look out for you. Now, good-by,
+boy. I'm sorry&mdash;but my intentions were good."</p>
+
+<p>Mose opened his heart at last. "I don't like to desert you this way, Mr.
+Delmar," he said; "it ain't right; I'd rather stay and fight it out."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't have it," replied Delmar.</p>
+
+<p>"You're going to have a lot of trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you worry about me, and don't you feel streaked about pulling
+your freight. You started wrong on the Cannon Ball. Bob will put you
+right. The cattlemen will rule there for some years yet, and you keep on
+their side. Now, good-by, lad, and take care of yourself."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="142" name="page_142" id="page_142"></a></p>
+<p>Mose's voice trembled as he took Delmar's hand and said: "Good-by, Mr.
+Delmar, I'm awfully obliged to you."</p>
+
+<p>"That's all right&mdash;now git."</p>
+
+<p>Mose, once more on his own horse, galloped off to the West, his heart
+big with love for his stern benefactor. Delmar sat on his horse and
+watched the boy till he was diminished to a minute spot on the dim
+swells of the plain. Then he wiped a little moisture from his eye with
+the back of his brown, small hand, and turned his horse's head to the
+East.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="143" name="page_143" id="page_143"></a>
+<a name="THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_MOUNTS" id="THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_MOUNTS"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER X</h2>
+<h3>THE YOUNG EAGLE MOUNTS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>After the momentary sorrow of parting from his good friend, Delmar, the
+youth's heart began to expand with joy. He lifted his arms and shook
+them as the young eagle exults. He was alone on the wide swells of plain
+enacting a part of the wild life of which he had read, and for which he
+had longed. He was riding a swift horse straight toward the mystic
+mountains of the West, leaving behind him the miserable wars of the
+sheep herders and the cattlemen. Every leap of his sturdy pony carried
+him deeper into the storied land and farther from the tumult and shame
+of the night at Running Bear.</p>
+
+<p>He was not one to morbidly analyze, not even to feel remorse. He put the
+past behind him easily. Before him small grasshoppers arose in clapping,
+buzzing clouds. Prairie dogs squeaked and frisked and dived needlessly
+into their dens. Hawks sailed like kites in the glorious, golden, hazy
+air, and on the firm sod the feet of his pony steadily drummed. Once a
+band of antelope crossed a swale, running in silence, jerkily, like a
+train of some singular automatons, moved by sudden, uneven impulses of
+power. The deep-worn buffalo trails seemed so fresh the boy's heart
+quickened with the thought that he might by chance come suddenly upon a
+stray bunch of them feeding in some deep swale.</p>
+
+<p>He had passed beyond fences, and his course was still substantially
+westward. His eyes constantly searched the misty purple-blue horizon for
+a first glimpse of the mountains, though he knew he could not possibly
+come in sight of them so soon. He rode steadily till the sun was
+overhead, when he stopped to let the pony rest and feed. He had a scanty
+lunch in his pocket, which he ate without water. Saddling up an hour or
+two later he continued his steady onward "shack" toward the West.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="144" name="page_144" id="page_144"></a></p>
+<p>Once or twice he passed in sight of cattle ranches, but he rode on
+without stopping, though he was hungry and weary. Once he met a couple
+of cowboys who reined out and rode by, one on either side of him, to see
+what brands were on his horse. He was sufficiently waywise to know what
+this meant. The riders remained studiously polite in their inquiries:</p>
+
+<p>"Where ye from, stranger?"</p>
+
+<p>"Upper Cannon Ball."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh&mdash;hah. How's the feed there this year?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty good."</p>
+
+<p>"Where ye aimin' at now, if it's a fair question?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bob Reynolds' ranch."</p>
+
+<p>"He's over on the head water of the South Fork, ain't he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's a good piece yet. So long," they said in change of manner.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="145" name="page_145" id="page_145"></a></p>
+<p>"So long."</p>
+
+<p>They rode away, still filled with curiosity concerning the boy whose
+horse plainly showed hard riding. "He shore wants to git there," said
+one to the other.</p>
+
+<p>Late in the afternoon the youth pulled in his horse and studied with the
+closest care a big cloud looming in the sky. All day snowy thunderheads
+had been emerging into view near the horizon, blooming like gigantic
+roses out of the deep purple of the sky, but this particular cloud had
+not changed its sharp, clean-cut outline for an hour, and, as he looked,
+a veil of vapor suddenly drifted away from it, and Mose's heart leaped
+with exultation, as though a woman's hand had been laid on his shoulder.
+That cloud-like form was a mountain! It could be nothing else, for while
+all around it other domes shifted line and mass, this one remained
+constant, riding through the mist as the moon endures in the midst of
+the flying vapor of the night.</p>
+
+<p>Thereafter he rode with his eyes on that sunlit mass. The land grew
+wilder. Sharp hills broke the smooth expanses, and on these hills groves
+of dwarf pine appeared in irregular clumps like herds of cattle. He
+began to look for a camping place, for he was very tired. For an hour he
+led his spent horse,<a class="pagenum" title="146" name="page_146" id="page_146"></a> still moving toward the far-off shining peak, which
+glowed long after darkness had fallen on the plains. At last it grew too
+dim to guide him farther, and slipping the saddle from his horse, he
+turned him loose to feed upon the bunch grass.</p>
+
+<p>As the light faded from the sky so the exultation and sense of freedom
+went out of the boy's heart. His mind went back to the struggle in the
+street. He felt no remorse, no pity for the drunken fools, but he was
+angry and discouraged and disgusted with himself. He had ended in
+failure and in flight where he should have won success and respect. He
+did not directly accuse himself; he had done as well as he could; he
+blamed "things," and said to himself, "it's my luck," by which he meant
+to express a profound feeling of dejection and weakness as of one in the
+grasp of inimical powers. By the working of unfriendly forces he was
+lying there under the pines, hungry, tired, chilled, and lone as a wolf.
+Jack was far away, Mary lost forever to him, and the officers of the law
+again on his trail. It was a time to make a boy a man, a bitter and
+revengeful man.</p>
+
+<p>The night grew chill, and he was forced to walk up and down, wrapped in
+his saddle blanket to keep warm. Fuel was scarce, and his small fire
+sufficed only to warm him in minute sections, and hunger had thinned his
+blood. He was tired and sleepy, too, but dared not lie down for fear of
+being chilled. It would not do to be ill here alone in this land.</p>
+
+<p>It was the loneliest night he had ever known in his life. On the hills
+near by the coyotes kept up ventriloquistic clamor, and from far off the
+bawling of great bulls and the bleating of the calves brought news of a
+huge herd of cattle, but these sounds only made his solitary vigil the
+more impressive. The sleepy chirp of the crickets and the sound of his
+horse nipping the grass, calmly c<a class="pagenum" title="147" name="page_147" id="page_147"></a>areless of the wolves, were the only
+aids to sleep; all else had the effect to keep his tense nerves
+vibrating. As the cold intensified, the crickets ceased to cry, and the
+pony, having filled his stomach, turned tail to the wind and humped his
+back in drowse. At last, no friendly sounds were left in all the world,
+and shivering, sore, and sullen, the youth faced the east waiting for
+the dawn.</p>
+
+<p>As the first faint light came into the east he turned his face to the
+west, anxiously waiting till the beautiful mountain should blossom from
+the dark. At last it came stealing forth, timid, delicate, blushing like
+a bride from nuptial chamber, ethereal as an angel's wing, persistent as
+a glacial wall. As it broadened and bloomed, the boy threw off his
+depression like a garment. Briskly saddling his shivery but well-fed
+horse he set off, keeping more and more to the left, as his instructions
+ran. But no matter in which direction he rode, his eyes were on the
+mountain. "There is where I end," was his constantly repeated thought.
+It would have been easy for him to have turned aside.</p>
+
+<p>Shortly after sunrise he came upon a ranch set deep in a gully and
+sheltered by pi&ntilde;ons. Smoke was curling from the stovepipe, but no other
+sign of life could be detected. He rode dir<a class="pagenum" title="148" name="page_148" id="page_148"></a>ectly up to the door, being
+now too hungry and cold to pass by food and shelter, no matter what
+should follow.</p>
+
+<p>A couple of cowboys, armed and armored, came out lazily but with menace
+in their glances.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning," said Mose.</p>
+
+<p>"Howdy, stranger, howdy," they repeated with instant heartiness. "Git
+off your hoss and come in."</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks, I believe I will. Can you tell me which-a-way is Bob Reynolds'
+ranch?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Both men broke into grins. "Well, you've putt' nigh hit it right hyer.
+This is one o' his 'line camps.' The ranch house is about ten miles
+furder on&mdash;but slide off and eat a few."</p>
+
+<p>One man took his horse while the other showed him into a big room where
+a huge stack of coals on a rude hearth gave out a cheerful heat. It was
+an ordinary slab shack with three rooms. A slatternly woman was busy
+cooking breakf<a class="pagenum" title="149" name="page_149" id="page_149"></a>ast in a little lean-to at the back of the larger room, a
+child was wailing in a crib, and before the fire two big, wolfish dogs
+were sleeping. They arose slowly to sniff lazily at Mose's garments, and
+then returned to their drowse before the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"Stranger, you look putt' nigh beat out," said the man who acted as
+host; "you look pale around the gills."</p>
+
+<p>"I am," said Mose; "I got off my course last night, and had to make down
+under a pi&ntilde;on. I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday noon."</p>
+
+<p>"Wal, we'll have some taters and sow-belly in a giff or two. Want 'o
+wash?"</p>
+
+<p>Mose gladly took advantage of the opportunity to clean the dust and
+grime from his skin, though his head was dizzy with hunger. The food was
+bacon, eggs, and potatoes, but it was fairly well cooked, and he ate
+with great satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>The men were very much interested in him, and tried to get at the heart
+of his relation to Reynolds, but he evaded them. They were lanky
+Missourians, types already familiar to him, and he did not care to make
+confidants of them. The woman was a graceless figure, a silent household
+drudge, sullenly sad, and gaunt, and sickly.</p>
+
+<p>Mose offered to pay for his breakfast, <a class="pagenum" title="150" name="page_150" id="page_150"></a>but the boss waved it aside and
+said: "Oh, that's all right; we don't see enough people pass to charge,
+for a breakfast. Besides, we're part o' the Reynolds' outfit, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>As Mose swung into the saddle his heart was light. Away to the south a
+long low cloud of smoke hung. "What is that?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the bull-gine on the Great Western; we got two railroads now."</p>
+
+<p>"Which is two too many," said the other man. "First you know the cattle
+business will be wiped out o' 'Rickaree County just as it is bein' wiped
+out in Cheyenne and Runnin' Bear. Nesters and cow milkers are comin'
+in, and will be buildin' fences yet."</p>
+
+<p>"Not in my day," said the host.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, so long," said Mose, and rode away.</p>
+
+<p>The Reynolds' ranch house was built close beside a small creek which had
+cut deep into the bottom of a narrow valley between two pi&ntilde;on-covered
+hills. It squat in the valley like a tortoise, but was much more
+comfortable than most ranch houses of the county. It was surrounded by
+long sheds and circular corrals of pine logs, and looked to be what it
+was, a den in which to seek shelter. A blacksmith's forge was sending up
+a shower of sparks as Mose rode through the gate and up to the main
+stable<a class="pagenum" title="151" name="page_151" id="page_151"></a>.</p>
+
+<p>A long-bearded old man tinkering at some repairs to a plow nodded at the
+youth without speaking.</p>
+
+<p>"Is Mr. Reynolds at home?" asked Mose.</p>
+
+<p>"No, but he'll be here in a second&mdash;jest rode over the hill to look at a
+sick colt. Git off an' make yuself comfortable."</p>
+
+<p>Mose slipped off his horse and stood watching the queer old fellow as he
+squinted and hammered upon a piece of iron, chewing furiously meanwhile
+at his tobacco. It was plain his skill was severely taxed by the
+complexity of the task in hand.</p>
+
+<p>As he stood waiting Mose saw a pretty young woman come out of the house
+and take a babe from the ground with matronly impatience of the dirt
+upon its dress.</p>
+
+<p>The old man followed the direction of the young man's eyes and mumbled:
+"Old man's girl.... Her child."</p>
+
+<p>Mose asked no questions, but it gave a new and powerful interest to the
+graceful figure of the girl.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="152" name="page_152" id="page_152"></a></p>
+<p>Occasionally the old man lifted his eyes toward the ridge, as if looking
+for some one, and at last said, "Old man&mdash;comin'."</p>
+
+<p>A horseman came into view on the ridge, sitting his horse with the grace
+and ease of one who lives in the saddle. As he zig-zagged down the steep
+bank, his pony, a vicious and powerful roan "grade," was on its haunches
+half the time, sliding, leaping, trotting. The rider, a smallish man,
+with a brown beard, was dressed in plain clothing, much the worse for
+wind and sun. He seemed not to observe the steepness and roughness of
+the trail.</p>
+
+<p>As he rode up and slipped from his horse Mose felt much drawn to him,
+for his was a kindly and sad face. His voice, as he spoke, was low and
+soft, only his eyes, keen and searching, betrayed the resolute
+plainsman.</p>
+
+<p>"Howdy, stranger?" he said in Southern fashion. "Glad to see you, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Mose presented his note from Delmar.</p>
+
+<p>"From old Delmar, eh? How did you leave him? In good health and spirits,
+I hope."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in the rhythmical way of Tennesseans, emphasizing the auxiliary
+verbs beyond their usual value. After reading the letter he extended his
+hand. "I am very glad to meet you, sir. I am indeed. Bill, take care of
+Mr.&mdash;&mdash;" He paused, and looked at the latter.</p>
+
+<p>"Mose&mdash;Mose Harding," interpolated Mo<a class="pagenum" title="153" name="page_153" id="page_153"></a>se.</p>
+
+<p>"Put in Harding's horse. Come right in, Mr. Harding; I reckon dinner is
+in process of simmering by this time."</p>
+
+<p>"Call me Mose," said the youth. "That's what Delmar called me."</p>
+
+<p>Reynolds smiled. "Very good, sir; Mose it shall be."</p>
+
+<p>They entered the front door into the low-ceiled, small sitting room
+where a young girl was sitting sewing, with a babe at her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"My daughter, Mrs. Craig," said Reynolds gently. "Daughter, this young
+man is Mr. Mose Harding, who comes from my old friend Delmar. He is
+going to stay with us for a time. Sit down, Mose, and make yourself at
+home."</p>
+
+<p>The girl blushed painfully, and Mose flushed sympathetically. He could
+not understand the mystery, and ignored her confusion as far as
+possible. The room was shabby and well worn. A rag carpet covered the
+floor. The white plastered walls had pictures cut from newspapers and
+magazines pinned upon them to break the monotony. The floor was littered
+also with toys, clothing, and tools, which the baby had pulled about,
+but the room wrought powerfully upon the boy's heart, giving him the
+first real touch of homesickness he had felt since leaving the Burns'
+farm that bright March day, now so far away it seemed that it was deep
+in the past. For a few moments he could not speak, and the girl was<a class="pagenum" title="154" name="page_154" id="page_154"></a>
+equally silent. She gathered up the baby's clothes and playthings, and
+passed into another room, leaving the young man alone.</p>
+
+<p>His heart was very tender with memories. He thought of Mary and of his
+sister Maud, and his throat ached. The wings of the young eagle were
+weary, and here was safety and rest, he felt that intuitively, and when
+Reynolds returned with his wife, a pleasant-featured woman of large
+frame, tears were in the boy's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Reynolds wiped her fingers on her apron and shook hands with him
+cordially. "I s'pose you're hungry as a wolf. Wal, I'll hurry up dinner.
+Mebbe you'd like a biscuit?"</p>
+
+<p>Mose professed to be able to wait, and at last convinced the hospitable
+soul. "Wal, I'll hurry things up a little," she said as she went out.
+Reynolds, as he took a seat, said: "Delmar writes that you just got
+mixed up in some kind o' fuss down there. I reckon you had better tell
+me how it was."</p>
+
+<p>Mose was glad to unburden his heart. As the story proceeded, Reynolds
+sat silently looking at the stove hearth, glancing at the youth only now
+and again as he reached some dramatic point. The girl came back into the
+room, and as she listened, her timidity grew less painful. The boy's
+troubles made a bond of sympathy between them, and at last Mose found
+himself telling his story to her. Her beautiful brown eyes grew very
+deep and tender as he described his flight, his hunger, and his
+weariness.</p>
+
+<p>When he ended, she drew a sigh of sympathetic relief, and Reynolds said:
+"Mm! you have no certain knowledge, I reckon, whether you killed your
+man or not?"<a class="pagenum" title="155" name="page_155" id="page_155"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I can't remember. It was dark. We fired a dozen shots. I am afraid I
+hit; I am too handy with the revolver to miss."</p>
+
+<p>"Mm, so Delmar says. Well, you're out of the State, and I have no belief
+they will take the trouble to look you up. Anyhow, I reckon you better
+stay with us till we see how the fuss ends. You certainly are a likely
+young rider, an' I can use you right hyere till you feel like goin'
+farther."</p>
+
+<p>A wave of grateful emotion rushed over the boy, blinding his eyes with
+tears, and before he could speak to thank his benefactor, dinner was
+called. The girl perceived the tears in his eyes, and as they went out
+to dinner she looked at him with a comradeship born of the knowledge
+that he, too, had suffered.</p>
+
+<p>He returned her glance with one equally frank and friendly, and all
+through the meal he addressed himself to her more often than to her
+parents. She was of the most gentle, and patient, and yielding type. Her
+beautiful lips and eyes expressed only sweetness and feminine charm, and
+her body, though thin and bent, was of girlish slimness.</p>
+
+<p>Reynolds warmed to the boy wondrously. As <a class="pagenum" title="156" name="page_156" id="page_156"></a>they arose from the table he
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"We'll ride over to the round-up to-morrow, and I'll introduce you to
+the cow boss, and you can go right into the mess. I'll turn my horse
+over to you; I'm getting mighty near too old to enjoy rustlin' cattle
+together, and I'll just naturally let you take my place."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="157" name="page_157" id="page_157"></a>
+<a name="ON_THE_ROUND-UP" id="ON_THE_ROUND-UP"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+<h3>ON THE ROUND-UP</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mose was awakened next morning by the whirring of the coffee mill, a
+vigorous and cheerful sound. Mrs. Reynolds and Cora were busily
+preparing breakfast, and their housewifely movements about the kitchen
+below gave the boy a singular pleasure. The smell of meat in the pan
+rose to his nostrils, and the cooing laughter of the baby added a final
+strand in a homely skein of noises. No household so homelike and secure
+had opened to him since he said good-by to his foster parents in Rock
+River.</p>
+
+<p>He dressed and hurried down and out to the barn. Frost lay white on the
+grass, cattle were bawling somewhere in the distance. The smoke of the
+kitchen went up into the sky straight as a poplar tree. The beautiful
+plain, hushed and rapt, lay waiting for the sun.</p>
+
+<p>As he entered the stable, Mose found Reynolds looking carefully at Jack.
+"That looks a gentle horse; I can't see a mean thing about him. I don't
+reckon he's a cow hoss, is he?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I don't suppose he is a regular cow horse, but he'll soon learn."</p>
+
+<p>"I must trade you outen that hoss. I certainly am 'blieged to do so. I'm
+growin' old, boy. I don't take the pleasu' in a broncho that I once did.
+I certainly am tired of hosses I can't touch with my hand. Fo' fo'ty
+yeahs I have handled these locoed hosses&mdash;they ah all locoed in my
+judgment&mdash;and I am plum tired of such. I shall send to Missouri aw
+Tennessee and get me a hoss I can trust. Meanwhile, you leave me yo'
+hoss an' take my bald-face pinto there; he is the fastest hoss on the
+range an' a plum devil, but that won't mattah to you, for you ah young
+an' frisky."<a class="pagenum" title="158" name="page_158" id="page_158"></a></p>
+
+<p>Mose hated to yield up his gentle and faithful horse even for a short
+time, but could not decently refuse. He shifted his saddle to the pinto
+with Reynolds' help.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoa, there, Wild Cat," called the rancher, as the wicked eyes began to
+roll. "He'll get usen to ye after a day or two," he said reassuringly.</p>
+
+<p>Mose's horsemanship was on trial, and though nervous and white, he led
+the pinto out and prepared to mount.</p>
+
+<p>"If he wants to gambol a little, just let him go, only keep his head
+up," said Reynolds with careless glance.</p>
+
+<p>Cora came out of the house and stood looking on, while Mose tightened
+the cinch again, and grasping the pommel with both hands put his toe in
+the stirrup. The pinto leaped away sidewise, swift as a cat, but before
+he could fairly get into motion Mose was astride, with both feet in the
+stirrups. With a series of savage sidewise bounds, the horse made off at
+a tearing pace, thrusting his head upon the bit in the hope to jerk his
+rider out of his seat. Failing of this he began to leap like a sheep.
+Just as he was about to let up on this Mose sank the rowels into him
+with a wild yell, and hotly lashed him from side to side with the end of
+his rope. For a few rods the horse continued to leap with stiffened legs
+and upraised back, then abandoned all tricks and ran<a class="pagenum" title="159" name="page_159" id="page_159"></a> up the hill like a
+scared antelope.</p>
+
+<p>When Reynolds caught up with his new "hand" he smiled and said: "I
+reckon you can be trusted to look out fo' yo'sef," and the heart of the
+youth glowed with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>Again he felt the majesty and splendor of the life into which he had
+penetrated. The measureless plain, dimpled and wrinkled, swept downward
+toward the flaming eastern sky unmarked of man. To the west, cut close
+across their snow tops by the plain's edge, three enormous and
+snow-armored peaks arose, the sunlight already glittering on the thin,
+new-fallen snows.</p>
+
+<p>Coyotes, still at vigil on the hills, slid out of sight at the coming of
+the horsemen. The prairie dogs peered sleepily from their burrows.
+Cattle in scattered bands snuffed and stared or started away hulking,
+yet swift, the bulls sullen and ferocious, the calves wild as deer.
+There were no fences, no furrows, no wagon tracks, no sign of sheep. It
+was the cow country in very truth.</p>
+
+<p>On the way Reynolds said very little. Occasionally as they drew their
+ponies to a walk he remarked upon the kindliness of the horse, and said,
+"I hope you'll like my horse as well as I like youah's."</p>
+
+<p>It was nearly twelve o'clock when they topped<a class="pagenum" title="160" name="page_160" id="page_160"></a> a treeless ridge and came
+in sight of the round-up. Below them, in the midst of a wide, grassy
+river flat, stood several tents and a covered wagon. Nearby lay a strong
+circular corral of poplar logs filled with steers. At some distance from
+the corral a dense mass of slowly revolving cattle moved, surrounded by
+watching horsemen. Down from the hills and up the valley came other
+horsemen, hurrying forward irregular bands of cows and calves. A small
+fire near the corral was sending up a pale strand of smoke, and at the
+tail of the wagon a stovepipe, emitting a darker column, told that
+dinner was in preparation. Over the scene the cloudless September sky
+arched. Dust arose under the heels of the herds, and the bawling roar of
+bulls, the call of agonized cows, and the answering bleat of calves
+formed the base of the shrill whoopings and laughter of the men. Nothing
+could be wilder, more stirring, more picturesque, except a camp of Sioux
+or Cheyennes in the days of the buffalo.</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes Mose was in the midst of the turmoil. Everyone greeted
+Reynolds with affection, and he replied in the stately phrases which had
+made him famous, "How do you do, gentlemen. I certainly am glad to see
+you enjoyin' this fine fall day. Captain Charlesworth, allow me to
+present my young friend, Moses Harding."</p>
+
+<p>Captain Charlesworth, a tall man with a squint eye and a humorous
+glance, came<a class="pagenum" title="161" name="page_161" id="page_161"></a> up to shake hands as Mose slipped from his broncho.</p>
+
+<p>Reynolds went on: "Captain Charlesworth is cow boss, an' will see that
+you earn yo' bo'd. Cap'n, this young man comes from my good friend,
+Cap'n Delmar, of Sante Fe. You know Delmar?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should think so," said the boss. "It seems this youngster kin ride,
+seem's he's on Wild Cat."</p>
+
+<p>Reynolds smiled: "I reckon you can consider him both able and willin',
+captain."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, slip off an' eat. I'll take care o' the cayuses."</p>
+
+<p>On the ground, scattered among the tents, and in the shade of the cook
+wagon, were some twenty or thirty herders. For the most part they were
+slender, bronzed, and active, of twenty-five or thirty, with broad white
+hats (faded and flapping in the brim), gray or blue woolen shirts (once
+gay with red lacing), and dark pantaloons, tucked into tall boots with
+long heels. Spurs jingled at the heels of their tall boots, and most of
+them wore bandannas of silk or cotton looped gracefully about their
+necks. A few of the younger ones wore a sort of rude outside trouser of
+leather c<a class="pagenum" title="162" name="page_162" id="page_162"></a>alled "chaps," and each of them carried a revolver slung at the
+hip. They were superb examples of adaptation to environment, alert,
+bold, and graceful of movement.</p>
+
+<p>A relay of them were already at dinner, with a tin plate full of "grub"
+and a big tin cup steaming with coffee before each man. They sat almost
+anywhere to eat, on saddles, wagon tongues&mdash;any convenient place. Some
+of them, more orderly, were squatted along a sort of table made of
+folded blankets piled through the center of a tent. Here Reynolds took a
+seat, and Mose followed, shrinking a little from the keen scrutiny of
+the men. The fact that Reynolds vouched for him, however, was
+introduction, and the cook made a place for him readily enough, and
+brought him a plate and a cup.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys," said Reynolds, "this young feller is just come to town. His name
+is Mose Harding, and he can ride a hoss all right, all right. He's
+a-goin' to make a hand here in my place; treat him fair."</p>
+
+<p>There was a moment's awkward pause, and then Mose said: "I'm going to
+try to do my share."</p>
+
+<p>As he had time to look around he began to individualize the men. One of
+the first to catch his eye was an India<a class="pagenum" title="163" name="page_163" id="page_163"></a>n who sat near the door of the
+tent. He was dressed like the other men, but was evidently a full-blood.
+His skin was very dark, not at all red or copper colored, and Mose
+inferred that he was a Ute. His eyes were fixed on Mose with intent
+scrutiny, and when the boy smiled the Indian's teeth gleamed white in
+ready good nature, and they were friends at once. The talk was all about
+the work on hand, the tussles with steers, the number of unbranded
+calves, the queries concerning shipment, etc.</p>
+
+<p>Dinner was soon over, and "Charley," as the cow boss was called by his
+men, walked out with Mose toward the corral. "Kin ye rope?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not for a cent."</p>
+
+<p>"Let him hold the herd foh a day or two," suggested Reynolds. "Give him
+time to work in."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, s'pose you look after him this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>Together Reynolds and Mose rode out toward the slowly "milling" herd, a
+hungry, hot, and restless mob of broadhorns, which required careful
+treatment. As he approached, the dull roar of their movement, their
+snuffling and moaning, thrilled the boy. He saw the gleaming, clashing
+horns of the great animals uplift and mass and chang<a class="pagenum" title="164" name="page_164" id="page_164"></a>e, and it seemed to
+him there were acres and acres of them.</p>
+
+<p>Reynolds called out to two sweating, dusty, hoarse young fellows: "Go to
+grub, boys."</p>
+
+<p>Without a word they wheeled their horses and silently withdrew, while
+Reynolds became as instantly active.</p>
+
+<p>His voice arose to a shout: "Now, lively, Mose, keep an eye on the herd,
+and if any cow starts to break out&mdash;lively now&mdash;turn him in."</p>
+
+<p>A big bay steer, lifting his head, suddenly started to leave the herd.
+Mose spurred his horse straight at him with a yell, and turned him
+back.</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," shouted Reynolds.</p>
+
+<p>Mose understood more of it than Reynolds realized. He took his place in
+the cordon, and aided in the work with very few blunders. The work was
+twofold in character. Fat cattle were to be cut out of the herd for
+shipment, unbranded calves were to be branded, and strays tallied and
+thrown back to their own feeding grounds. Into the crush of great,
+dusty, steaming bodies, among tossing, cruel, curving horns the men rode
+to "cut out" the beeves and to rope the cal<a class="pagenum" title="165" name="page_165" id="page_165"></a>ves. It was a furious scene,
+yet there was less excitement than Mose at first imagined. Occasionally,
+as a roper returned, he paused on the edge of the herd long enough to
+"eat" a piece of tobacco and pass a quiet word with a fellow, then
+spurring his horse, re-entered the herd again. No matter how swift his
+action, his eyes were quiet.</p>
+
+<p>It was hard work; dusty, hot, and dangerous also. To be unhorsed in that
+struggling mass meant serious injury if not death. The youth was glad of
+heart to think that he was not required to enter the herd.</p>
+
+<p>That night, when the horse herd came tearing down the mesa, Reynolds
+said: "Now, Mose, you fall heir to my shift of horses, too. Let me show
+them to you. Each man has four extra horses. That wall-eyed roan is
+mine, so is the sorrel mare with the star face. That big all-over bay,
+the finest hoss in the whole outfit, is mine, too, but he is unbroken.
+He shore is a hard problem. I'll give him to you, if you can break him,
+or I'll trade him for your Jack."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do it," cried Mose, catching his breath in excitement as he
+studied the splendid beast. His lithe, tigerlike body glittered in the
+sun, though his uplifted head bore a tangled, dusty mat of mane. He was
+neglected, wary, and unkempt, but he was magnificent. Every movement of
+his powerful limbs made the boy ache to be his master.</p>
+
+<p>Thus Mose took his place among the cowboys. He started right, socially,
+this time. No one knew that he had been a sheep herder but Reynolds, and
+Reynolds did not<a class="pagenum" title="166" name="page_166" id="page_166"></a> lay it up against him. He was the equal of any of them
+in general horsemanship, they admitted that at the end of the second
+day, though he was not so successful in handling cattle as they thought
+he should be. It was the sense of inefficiency in these matters which
+led him to give an exhibition of his skill with the revolver one evening
+when the chance offered. He shot from his horse in all conceivable
+positions, at all kinds of marks, and with all degrees of speed, till
+one of the boys, accustomed to good shooting, said:</p>
+
+<p>"You kin jest about shoot."</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," said the cow boss; "I'd hate to have him get a grutch
+agin me."</p>
+
+<p>Mose warmed with pardonable pride. He was taking high place in their
+ranks, and was entirely happy during these pleasant autumn days. On his
+swift and wise little ponies he tore across the sod in pursuit of swift
+steers, or came rattling down a hillside, hot at the heels of a
+wild-eyed cow and calf, followed by a cataract of pebbles. Each day he
+bestrode his saddle till his bones cried out for weariness, and his
+stomach, walls ground together for want of food, but when he sat among
+his fellows to eat with keenest pleasure the beef and beans of the pot
+wrestler's providing, he was content. He had no time to think of Jack or
+Mary except on the nights when he took his trick at watchin<a class="pagenum" title="167" name="page_167" id="page_167"></a>g the night
+herd. Then, sometimes in the crisp and fragrant dusk, with millions of
+stars blazing overhead, he experienced a sweet and powerful longing for
+a glimpse of the beautiful girlish face which had lightened his days and
+nights in prison.</p>
+
+<p>The herders were rough, hearty souls, for the most part, often obscene
+and rowdy as they sat and sang around the camp fire. Mose had never
+been a rude boy; on the contrary, he had always spoken in rather
+elevated diction, due, no doubt, to the influence of his father, whose
+speech was always serious and well ordered. Therefore, when the songs
+became coarse he walked away and smoked his pipe alone, or talked with
+Jim the Ute, whose serious and dignified silence was in vivid contrast.</p>
+
+<p>Some way, coarse speech and ribald song brought up, by the power of
+contrast, the pure, sweet faces of Mary and his sister Maud. Two or
+three times in his boyhood he had come near to slaying pert lads who had
+dared to utter coarse words in his sister's presence. There was in him
+too much of the essence of the highest chivalry to permit such things.</p>
+
+<p>It happened, therefore, that he spent much time with "Ute Jim," who was
+a simple and loyal soul, thoughtful, <a class="pagenum" title="168" name="page_168" id="page_168"></a>and possessing a sense of humor
+withal. Mose took great pleasure in sitting beside the camp fire with
+this son of the plains, while he talked of the wild and splendid life of
+the days before the white man came. His speech was broken, but Mose
+pieced it out by means of the sign language, so graceful, so dignified,
+and so dramatic, that he was seized with the fervid wish to acquire a
+knowledge of it. This he soon did, and thereafter they might be seen at
+any time of day signaling from side to side of the herd, the Indian
+smiling and shaking his head when the youth made a mistake.</p>
+
+<p>Jim believed in his new friend, and when questions brought out the
+history of the dispossession of his people he grew very sorrowful. His
+round cheeks became rigid and his eyes were turned away. "Injun no like
+fight white man all time. Injun gotta fight. White man crowd Injun back,
+back, no game, no rain, no corn. Injun heap like rivers, trees, all
+same&mdash;white man no like 'um, go on hot plain, no trees, no mountains, no
+game."</p>
+
+<p>But he threw off these somber moods quickly, and resumed his stories of
+himself, of long trips to the snowpeaks, which he seemed to regard in
+the light of highest daring. The high mountains were not merely far from
+the land of his people; they were mythic places inhabited by monstrous
+animals that could change from beast to fowl, and talk&mdash;great, conjuring
+creatures, whose powers were infinite in scope. As the red man struggled
+forward in his story, attempting to define these conceptions,<a class="pagenum" title="169" name="page_169" id="page_169"></a> the heart
+of the prairie youth swelled with a poignant sense of drawing near a
+great mystery. The conviction of Jim's faith for the moment made him
+more than half believe in the powers of the mountain people. Day by day
+his longing for the "high country" grew.</p>
+
+<p>At the first favorable moment he turned to the task of subduing the
+splendid bay horse for which he had traded his gentle Jack. One Sunday,
+when he had a few hours off, Mose went to Alf, the chief "roper," and
+asked him to help him catch "Kintuck," as Reynolds called the bay.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," said Alf; "I'll tie him up in a jiffy."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you get him without marking him all up?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe it. He's going to thrash around like h&mdash;l a-blazin';
+we'll have to choke him down."</p>
+
+<p>Mose shook his head. "I can't stand that. I s'pose it'll skin his
+fetlocks if you get him by the feet."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it may, may not; depends on how h<a class="pagenum" title="170" name="page_170" id="page_170"></a>e struggles."</p>
+
+<p>Mose refused to allow his shining, proud-necked stallion to be roped and
+thrown, and asked the boys to help drive him into a strong corral,
+together with five or six other horses. This was done, and stripping
+himself as for a race, Mose entered the coral and began walking rapidly
+round and round, following the excited animals. Hour after hour he kept
+this steady, circling walk, till the other horses were weary, till
+Kintuck ceased to snort, till the blaze of excitement passed out of his
+eyes, till he walked with a wondering backward glance, as if to ask:
+"Two-legged creature, why do you so persistently follow me?"</p>
+
+<p>The cowboys jeered at first, but after a time they began to marvel at
+the dogged walk of the youth. They gathered about the walls of the
+corral and laid bets on the outcome. At the end of the third hour
+Kintuck walked with a mechanical air, all the fire and fury gone out of
+him. He began to allow his pursuer to approach him closely, almost near
+enough to be touched. At the end of the four hours he allowed Mose to
+lay his hand on his nose, and Mose petted him and went to dinner. Odds
+stood in Mose's favor as he returned to the corral. He was covered with
+dust and sweat, but he was confident. He began to speak to the horse in
+a gentle, firm voice. At times the stall<a class="pagenum" title="171" name="page_171" id="page_171"></a>ion faced him with head lifted,
+a singular look in his eyes, as though he meditated leaping upon his
+captor. At first Mose took no notice of these actions, did not slacken
+his pace, but continued to press the bay on and on. At last he began to
+approach the horse with his hand lifted, looking him in the eyes and
+speaking to him. Snorting as if with terror, the splendid animal faced
+him again and again, only to wheel at the last moment.</p>
+
+<p>The cowboys were profanely contemptuous. "Think of taking all that
+trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"Rope him, and put a saddle on him and bust him," they called
+resoundingly.</p>
+
+<p>Mose kept on steadily. At last, when all the other horses had been
+turned loose, Kintuck, trembling, and with a curious stare in his eyes,
+again allowed Mose to lay his hand on his nose. He shrank away, but did
+not wheel. It was sunset, and the horse was not merely bewildered, he
+was physically tired. The touch of his master's hand over his eyes
+seemed to subjugate him, to take away his will. When Mose turned to walk
+away the horse followed him as though drawn by some magnetic force, and
+the herders looked at each other in amazement. Thereafter he had but to
+be accustomed to the bridle and saddle, and to be taught the duties of a
+cow horse. He had come to love his master.</p>
+
+<p>This exploit increased the fame of "Dandy Mose," as t<a class="pagenum" title="172" name="page_172" id="page_172"></a>he cowboys came to
+call him, because of the nature of his dress. He was bronzed now, and a
+very creditable brown mustache added to the maturity of his face. He was
+gaunt with hard riding, and somber and reticent in manner, so that he
+seemed to be much older than his years. Before the beef round-up was
+ended, he could rope a steer fairly well, could cut out or hold the
+herd as well as the best, and in pistol practice he had no equal.</p>
+
+<p>He was well pleased with himself. He loved the swift riding, the night
+watches, the voices of wolves, the turmoil of the camp, the rush of the
+wild wide-horned herd, and the pounding roar of the relay horses as they
+came flying into camp of a morning. It all suited well with the leaping
+blood of his heart and the restless vigor of his limbs. He thought of
+his old home very little&mdash;even Mary was receding into the mist of
+distance.</p>
+
+<p>When the beef herd was ready to be driven to the shipping point,
+Reynolds asked him if he wished to go. He shook his head. "No, I'll stay
+here." He did not say so, but he was still a little afraid of being
+called to account for his actions in Running Bear. He <a class="pagenum" title="173" name="page_173" id="page_173"></a>saw the herd move
+off with regret, for he would have enjoyed the ride exceedingly. He
+cared little for the town, though he would have liked the opportunity to
+make some purchases. He returned to the Reynolds ranch to spend the
+autumn and the winter in such duties as the stock required.</p>
+
+<p>As the great peaks to the west grew whiter and whiter, looming ever
+larger at dawn, the heart of the boy grew restless. The dark ca&ntilde;ons
+allured him, the stream babbled strange stories to him&mdash;tales of the
+rocky spaces from which it came&mdash;until the boy dreamed of great white
+doors that opened on wondrous green parks.</p>
+
+<p>One morning when Cora called the men to breakfast Mose and Jim did not
+respond. A scrawl from Mose said: "We've gone to the mountains. I'll be<a class="pagenum" title="174" name="page_174" id="page_174"></a>
+back in the spring. Keep my outfit for me, and don't worry."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<h2><a class="pagenum" title="175" name="page_175" id="page_175"></a><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a>PART II</h2>
+
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+
+<a name="THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_FLUTTERS_THE_DOVE-COTE" id="THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_FLUTTERS_THE_DOVE-COTE"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+<h3>THE YOUNG EAGLE FLUTTERS THE DOVE-COTE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The little town of Marmion was built on the high, grassy, parklike bank
+of the Cedar River; at least, the main part of the residences and stores
+stood on the upper level, while below, beside the roaring water, only a
+couple of mills and some miserable shacks straggled along a road which
+ran close to the sheer walls of water-worn limestone.</p>
+
+<p>The town was considered "picturesque" by citizens of the smaller farm
+villages standing bleakly where the prairie lanes intersected. To be
+able to live in Marmion was held to be eminent good fortune by the
+people roundabout, and the notion was worth working for. "If things turn
+out well we will buy a lot in Marmion and build a house there," husbands
+occasionally said to their wives and daughters, to console them for the
+<a class="pagenum" title="176" name="page_176" id="page_176"></a>
+mud, or dirt, or heat, or cold of the farm life. One by one some of
+those who had come into the country early, and whose land had grown
+steadily in value as population increased, were able to rent their farms
+to advantage and "move into town." Thus the streets gradually lengthened
+out into the lanes, and brick blocks slowly replaced the battlemented
+wooden stores of earlier frontier construction.</p>
+
+<p>To Harold Excell, fresh from the wide spaces of the plains, the town
+appeared smothered in leaves, and the air was oppressively stagnant. He
+came into the railway station early one July morning, tired and dusty,
+with a ride of two days and a night in an ordinary coach. As he walked
+slowly up the street toward the center of the sleeping village, the odor
+of ripe grain and the familiar smell of poplar and maple trees went to
+his heart. His blood leaped with remembered joys. Under such trees, in
+the midst of such fragrance, he had once walked with his sis<a class="pagenum" title="177" name="page_177" id="page_177"></a>ter and with
+Jack. His heart swelled with the thought of the Burns' farm, and the
+hearty greeting they would give him could he but ride up to the door.</p>
+
+<p>And Mary! How would she seem to him now? Four years was a long time at
+that period of a girl's life, but he was certain he would recognize her.
+He had not written to her of his coming, for he wished to announce
+himself. There were elements of adventure and surprise in the plan which
+pleased him. He had not heard from her for nearly a year, and that
+troubled him a little; perhaps she had moved away or was married. The
+thought of losing her made him shiver with sudden doubt of the good
+sense of his action. Anyhow, he would soon know.</p>
+
+<p>The clerk of the principal hotel was sleeping on a cot behind the
+counter, and Mose considerately decided not to wake him. Taking a seat
+by the window, he resumed his thinking, while the morning light
+infiltrated the sky. He was only twenty-two years of age, but in his own
+thought he had left boyhood far behind. As a matter of fact he looked to
+be five years older than he was. His face was set in lines indicating
+resolution and daring, his drooping mustache hid the boyish curves of
+his lips, and he carried himself with a singular grace, self-confident,
+decisive, but not assertive. The swing of his shoulders had charm, and
+he walked well. The cowboy's painful hobble had not yet been fastened
+upon him.</p>
+
+<p>Sitting there waiting the dawn, his face became tire<a class="pagenum" title="178" name="page_178" id="page_178"></a>d, somber, almost
+haggard, with self-accusing thought. He was not yet a cattle king, he
+was, in fact, still a cowboy. The time had gone by when a hired hand
+could easily acquire a bunch of cattle and start in for himself&mdash;and
+yet, though he had little beyond his saddle and a couple of horses, he
+was in Marmion to look upon the face of the girl who had helped him to
+keep "square" and clean in a land where dishonesty and vice were common
+as sage brush. He had sworn never to set foot in Rock River again, and
+no one but Jack knew of his visit to Marmion.</p>
+
+<p>Now that he was actually in the town where Mary lived he was puzzled to
+know how to proceed. He had wit enough to know that in Marmion a girl
+could not receive visits from a strange young man and escape the fire of
+infuriate gossip. He feared to expose her to such comment, and yet,
+having traveled six hundred miles to see her, he was not to be deterred
+by any other considerations, especially by any affecting himself.</p>
+
+<p>He knew something, but not all, of the evil fame his name conveyed to
+the citizens in his native state. As "Harry Excell, <i>alias</i> Black Mose,"
+he had figured in the great newspapers of Chicago, and Denver, and
+Omaha. Imaginative and secretly admiring young reporters had heaped
+alliterative words together t<a class="pagenum" title="179" name="page_179" id="page_179"></a>o characterize his daring, his skill as a
+marksman and horseman, and had also darkly hinted of his part in
+desperate stage and railway robbery in the Farther West. To all this&mdash;up
+to the time of his return&mdash;Harold had replied, "These chaps must earn a
+living some way, I reckon." He was said to have shot down six men in
+his first "scrimmage." "No one presumes to any impertinent inquiries
+when 'Black Mose' rides into town."</p>
+
+<p>Another enterprising newspaper youth had worked out the secret history
+of "Black Mose": "He began his career of crime early; at sixteen years
+of age he served in State's prison for knifing a rival back in the
+States." This report enabled the Rock River Call to identify Harold
+Excell with "Black Mose," to the pain and humiliation of Pastor Excell.</p>
+
+<p>Harold paid very little heed to all this till his longing to see Mary
+grew intolerable&mdash;even now, waiting for the Sabbath day to dawn, he did
+not fully realize the black shadow which streamed from his name and his
+supposititious violences. He divined enough of it to know that he must
+remain unknown to others, and he registered as "M. Harding, Omaha."</p>
+
+<p>He was somewhat startled to find himself without appetite, and pushing
+away his tough steak and fried potatoes, he arose and returned to the
+street. The probl<a class="pagenum" title="180" name="page_180" id="page_180"></a>em before him required delicacy of handling, and he was
+not one to assume a tactful manner. The closer he came to the meeting
+the more difficult it became. He must see her without causing comment,
+and without Jack's aid he saw no way of doing it. He had written to
+Jack, asking him to meet him, and so he waited.</p>
+
+<p>He was a perilously notable figure in spite of his neat black suit and
+quiet ways. His wide hat sat upon his head with a negligence which
+stopped short of swagger, and his coat revealed the splendid lines of
+his muscular shoulders. He had grown to a physical manhood which had the
+leopard's lithe grace and the lion's gravity. His dimpled and
+clean-shaven chin was strong, and the line of his lips firm. His eyes
+were steady and penetrating, giving an impression of reticence. His
+hands were slender and brown, and soft in the palms as those of a girl.
+The citizens marveled over him as he moved slowly through the streets,
+thinking himself quite indistinguishable among the other young men in
+dark suits and linen collars.</p>
+
+<p>Waiting was most difficult, and to remain indoors was impossible, so he
+walked steadily about the town. As he returned from the river road for
+the fifth time, the bells bega<a class="pagenum" title="181" name="page_181" id="page_181"></a>n to ring for church, filling him with
+other memories of his youth, of his father and his pulpit, and brought
+to his mind also the sudden recollection of one of Jack's letters,
+wherein he mentioned Mary's singing in the choir. If she were at home
+she would be singing yet, he argued, and set forth definitely to find
+her.</p>
+
+<p>To inquire was out of the question&mdash;so he started in at the largest
+church with intent to make the rounds. After waiting till the choir was
+about to begin the first hymn, he slipped in and took a seat near the
+door, his heart beating loudly and his breath much quickened.</p>
+
+<p>The interior was so familiar, it seemed for the moment to be his
+father's church in Rock River. The odors, sounds, movements were quite
+the same. The same deaf old men, led by determined, sturdy old women,
+were going up the aisle to the front pews. The pretty girls, taking
+their seats in the middle pews (where their new hats could be enjoyed by
+the young men at the rear) became Dot, and Alice, and Nettie&mdash;and for
+the moment the cowboy was very boyish and tender. The choir assembling
+above the pulpit made him shiver with emotion. "Perhaps one of them will
+be Mary and I won't know her," he said to himself. "I will know her
+voice," he added.<a class="pagenum" title="182" name="page_182" id="page_182"></a></p>
+
+<p>But, as the soprano took her place, his heart ceased to pound&mdash;she was
+small, and dark, and thin. He arose and slipped out to continue his
+search.</p>
+
+<p>They were singing as he entered the next chapel, and it required but a
+moment's listening to convince himself that Mary was not there. The
+third church was a small stone building of odd structure, and while he
+hesitated before its door, a woman's voice took up a solo strain,
+powerful, exultant, and so piercingly sweet that the plainsman shivered
+as if with sudden cold. Around him the softly moving maples threw
+dappling shadows on the walk. The birds in the orchards, the insects in
+the grass, the clouds overhead seemed somehow involved in the poetry and
+joy of that song. The wild heart of the young trailer became like that
+of a child, made sweet and tender by the sovereign power of a voice.</p>
+
+<p>He did not move till the clear melody sank into the harmony of the
+organ, then, with bent head and limbs unwontedly infirm, he entered the
+lovely little audience room. He stumbled into the first seat in the
+corner, his eyes piercing the colored dusk which lay between him and the
+singer. It was Mary, and it seemed to him that she had become a
+prin<a class="pagenum" title="183" name="page_183" id="page_183"></a>cess, sitting upon a throne. Accustomed to see only the slatternly
+women of the cow towns, or the thin, hard-worked, and poorly-dressed
+wives and daughters of the ranchers, he humbled himself before the
+beauty and dignity and refinement of this young singer.</p>
+
+<p>She was a mature woman, full-bosomed, grave of feature, introspective of
+glance. Her graceful hat, her daintily gloved hands, her tasteful dress,
+impressed the cowboy with a feeling that all art and poetry and
+refinement were represented by her. For the moment his own serenity and
+self-command were shaken. He cowered in his seat like a dust-covered
+plowman in a parlor, and when Mary looked in his direction his breath
+quickened and he shrank. He was not yet ready to have her recognize him.</p>
+
+<p>The preacher, a handsome and scholarly young fellow, arose to speak, and
+Harold was interested in him at once. The service had nothing of the
+old-time chant or drawl or drone. In calm, unhesitating speech the young
+man proceeded, from a text of Hebrew scripture, to argue points of right
+and wrong among men, and to urge upon his congregation right thinking
+and right action. He used a great many of the technical phrases of
+carpenters and stonemasons and sailors. He showed familiarity also with
+the phrases of the cattle country. Several times a low laugh rippled
+over his congregation as he uttered some peculiarly apt phrase or made
+use of some witty illustration. To the cowboy this sort of preaching
+came with surprise. He thought: "The boys would kieto to this chap all
+right." He was not eager to have them list<a class="pagenum" title="184" name="page_184" id="page_184"></a>en to Mary singing.</p>
+
+<p>Sitting there amid the little audience of thoughtful people, his brain
+filled with new conceptions of the world and of human life. Nothing was
+clearly defined in the tumult of opposing pictures. At one moment he
+thought of his sister and his family, but before he could imagine her
+home or decide on how to see her, a picture of his father, or Jack, or
+the peaceful Burns' farm came whirling like another cloud before his
+brain, and all the time his eyes searched Mary's calm and beautiful
+face. He saw her smile, too, when the preacher made a telling
+application of a story. How would she receive him after so many years?
+She had not answered his last letter; perhaps she was married. Again the
+chilly wind from the ca&ntilde;on of doubt blew upon him. If she was, why that
+ended it. He would go back to the mountains and never return.</p>
+
+<p>The minister finished at last and Mary arose again to sing. She was
+taller, Harold perceived, and more matronly in all ways. As she sang,
+the lonely soul of the plainsman was moved to an ecstasy which filled
+his throat and made his eyes misty with tears. He thought of his days in
+the gray prison, and of this girlish voice singing like an angel to
+comfort him. She did not seem to be singing to him now. She sang as a
+bird sings out of abounding health <a class="pagenum" title="185" name="page_185" id="page_185"></a>and happiness, and as she sang, the
+mountains retreated into vast distances. The rush of the cattle on the
+drive was fainter than the sigh of the wind, and the fluting of the Ute
+lover was of another world. For the moment he felt the majesty and the
+irrevocableness of human life.</p>
+
+<p>He stood in a shadowed corner at the close of the service and watched
+her come down the aisle. As she drew near his breath left him, and the
+desire to lay his hand on her arm became so intense that his fingers
+locked upon the back of his pew&mdash;but he let her pass. She glanced at him
+casually, then turned to smile at some word of the preacher walking just
+behind her. Her passing was like music, and the fragrance of her
+garments was sweeter than any mountain flower. The grace of her walk,
+the exquisite fairness of her skin subdued him, who acknowledged no
+master and no mistress. She walked on out into the Sabbath sunshine and
+he followed, only to see her turn up the sidewalk close to the shoulder
+of the handsome young minister.</p>
+
+<p>The lonely youth walked back to his hotel with manner so changed his
+mountain companions would have marveled at it. A visit which had seemed
+so simple on the Arickaree became each moment more complicated in<a class="pagenum" title="186" name="page_186" id="page_186"></a>
+civilization. The refined young minister with the brown pointed beard,
+so kindly and thoughtful and wholesome of manner, was a new sort of man
+to such as Harold Excell. He feared no rivalry among the youth of the
+village, but this scholar&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Jack met him at the hotel&mdash;faithful old Jack, whose freckled face
+beamed, and whose spectacled eyes were dim with gladness. They shook
+hands again and again, crying out confused phrases. "Old man, how are
+you?" "I'm all right, how are you?" "You look it." "Where'd you find the
+red whiskers?" "They came in a box." "Your mustache is a wonder."</p>
+
+<p>Ultimately they took seats and looked at each other narrowly and
+quietly. Then Harold said, "I'm Mr. Harding here."</p>
+
+<p>Jack replied: "I understand. Your father knows, too. He wants to come up
+and see you. I said I'd wire, shall I?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course&mdash;if he wants to see me&mdash;but I want to talk to you first. I've
+seen Mary!"</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="187" name="page_187" id="page_187"></a></p>
+<p>"Have you? How did you manage?"</p>
+
+<p>"I trailed her. Went to all the churches in town. She sings in a little
+stone church over here."</p>
+
+<p>"I know. I've been up here to see her once or twice myself."</p>
+
+<p>Harold seized him by the arm. "See here, Jack&mdash;I must talk with her. How
+can I manage it without doing her harm?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's the question. If these people should connect you with 'Black
+Mose' they'd form a procession behind you. Harry, you don't know, you
+can't imagine the stories they've got up about you. They've made you
+into a regular Oklahoma Billy the Kid and train robber. The first great
+spread was that fight you had at Running Bear, that got into the Omaha
+papers in three solid columns about six months after it happened. Of
+course I knew all about it from your letters&mdash;no one had laid it to you
+then, but now everybody knows you are 'Black Mose,' and if you should be
+recognized you couldn't see Mary without doing her an awful lot of harm.
+You must be careful."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="188" name="page_188" id="page_188"></a></p>
+<p>"I know all that," replied Harold gloomily. "But you must arrange for me
+to see her right away, this afternoon or to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll manage it. They know me here and I can call on her and take a
+friend, an old classmate, you see, without attracting much
+attention&mdash;but it isn't safe for you to stay here long, somebody is
+dead-sure to identify you. They've had two or three pictures of you
+going around that really looked like you, and then your father coming up
+may let the secret out. We must be careful. I'll call on Mary
+immediately after dinner and tell her you are here."</p>
+
+<p>"Is she married? Some way she seemed like a married woman."</p>
+
+<p>"No, she's not married, but the young preacher you heard this morning
+is after her, they say, and he's a mighty nice chap."</p>
+
+<p>There was no more laughter on the gentle, red-bearded face of young
+Burns. Had Harold glanced at him sharply at that moment, he would have
+seen a tremor in Jack's lips and a singular shadow in his eyes. His
+voice indeed did affect Harold, though he took it to be sympathetic
+sadness only.</p>
+
+<p>Jack brightened up suddenly. "I can't really believe it is you, Harry.
+You've grown so big and burly, and you look so old." He smiled. "I wish
+I could see some of that shooting they all tell about, but that <i>would</i>
+let the cat out."</p>
+
+<p>Harold could not be drawn off to discuss such matters.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="189" name="page_189" id="page_189"></a></p>
+<p>"Come out to the ranch and I'll show you. But how are we to meet father?
+If he is seen talking with me it may start people off&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you. We'll have him come up and join you on the train and go
+down to Rock River together. I don't mean for you to get off, you can
+keep right on. Now, you mustn't wear that broad hat; you wear a
+grape-box straw hat while you're here. Take mine and I'll wear a cap."</p>
+
+<p>He took charge of Harold's affairs with ready and tactful hand. He was
+eager to hear his story, but Harold refused to talk on any other
+subject than Mary. At dinner he sat in gloomy silence, disregarding his
+friend's pleasant, low-voiced gossip concerning old friends in Rock
+River.</p>
+
+<p>After Jack left the hotel Harold went to his room and took a look at
+himself in the glass. He was concerned to see of what manner of man he
+really was. He was not well-satisfied with himself; his face and hands
+were too brown and leathery, and when he thought of his failure as a
+rancher his brow darkened. He was as far from being a cattle king as
+when he wrote that boyish letter four years before, and he had sense
+enough to know that a girl of Mary's grace and charm does not lack for
+suitors. "Probably she is engaged or married," he thought. Life seemed a
+confusion and weariness at the moment<a class="pagenum" title="190" name="page_190" id="page_190"></a>.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he heard Jack on the stairs he hurried to meet him.</p>
+
+<p>"What luck? Have you seen her?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack closed the door before replying, "Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"What did she say?"</p>
+
+<p>"She turned a little paler and just sat still for a minute or two. You
+know she isn't much of a talker. Then she said, 'Was he at church
+to-day?' I said 'Yes'; then she said, 'I think I saw him. I saw a
+stranger and was attracted by his face, but of course I never thought
+it could be Harold.' She was completely helpless for a while, but as I
+talked she began to see her way. She finally said, 'He has come a long
+way and I must see him. I <i>must</i> talk with him, but people must not know
+who he is.' I told her we were going to be very careful for her sake."</p>
+
+<p>"That's right, we must," Harold interrupted.</p>
+
+<p>"She didn't seem scared about herself. 'It won't harm me,' she said,
+'but father is hard to manage when anything displeases him. We must be
+careful on Harold's account.'"</p>
+
+<p>Harold's thro<a class="pagenum" title="191" name="page_191" id="page_191"></a>at again contracted with emotion. "She never thinks of
+herself; that's her way."</p>
+
+<p>"Now we've just got to walk boldly up the walk, the two of us together,
+and call on her. I'll introduce you to her father or she will; he knows
+me. We will talk about our school days while the old gentleman is
+around. He will drift away after a time, naturally. If he doesn't I'll
+take him out for a walk."</p>
+
+<p>This they did. Made less of a cowboy by Jack's straw hat, Harold went
+forth on a trail whose course was not well-defined in his mind, though
+now that Jack had arranged details so deftly that Mary was not in danger
+of being put to shame, his native courage and resolution came back to
+him. In the full springtide of his powerful manhood Mary's name and face
+had come at last to stand for everything worth having in the world, and
+like a bold gambler he was staking all he had on a single whirl of the
+wheel.</p>
+
+<p>Their meeting was so self-contained that only a close observer could
+have detected the tension. Mary was no more given to externalizing her
+emotions than he. She met him with a pale, sweet, dignified mask of
+face. She put out her hand, and said, "I am glad to see you, Mr.
+Harding," but his eyes burned down into hers with such intensity that
+she turned to escape his glance. "Father, you know Mr. Burns, and this
+is his friend, Mr. Harding, whom I used to know."</p>
+
+<p>Jack came gallantly to the<a class="pagenum" title="192" name="page_192" id="page_192"></a> rescue. He talked crops, politics, weather,
+church affairs, and mining. He chattered and laughed in a way which
+would have amazed Harold had he not been much preoccupied. He was
+unprepared for the change in Mary. He had carried her in his mind all
+these years as a little slip of a maiden, wrapt in expression, somber of
+mood, something half angel and half child, and always she walked in a
+gray half light, never in the sun. Now here she faced him, a dignified
+woman, with deep, serene eyes, and he could not comprehend how the pale
+girl had become the magnetic, self-contained woman. He was thrown into
+doubt and confusion, but so far from showing this he sat in absolute
+silence, gazing at her with eyes which made her shiver with emotion.</p>
+
+<p>Talk was purposeless and commonplace at first, a painful waiting.
+Suddenly they missed Jack and the father. They were alone and free to
+speak their most important words. Harold seized upon the opportunity
+with most disconcerting directness.</p>
+
+<p>"I've come for you, Mary," he said, as if he had not hitherto uttered a
+word, and his voice aroused some mysterious vibration within her bosom.
+"I'm not a cattle king; I have nothing but two horses, a couple of guns,
+and a saddle&mdash;but all the same, here I am. I got lonesome for you, and
+at last I took the back trail to find out whether you had forgot me or
+not."</p>
+
+<p>His pause se<a class="pagenum" title="193" name="page_193" id="page_193"></a>emed to require an answer and her lips were dry as she said
+in a low voice, "No, I did not forget, but I thought you had forgotten
+<i>me</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"A man don't forget such a girl as you are, Mary. You were in my mind
+all the time. Your singing did more for me than anything else. I've
+tried to keep out of trouble for your sake. I haven't succeeded very
+well as you know&mdash;but most of the stories about me are lies. I've only
+had two fights and they were both in self-defense and I don't think I
+killed anybody. I never know exactly what I'm doing when I get into a
+scrap. But I've kept out of the way of it on your account. I never go
+after a man. It's pretty hard not to shoot out there where men go on the
+rampage so often. It's easier, now than it used to be, for they are
+afraid of me."</p>
+
+<p>He seemed to come to a halt in that direction, and after a moment's
+pause took a new start. "I saw you at church to-day, and I saw you walk
+off with the minister, and that gave me a sudden jolt. It seemed to me
+you&mdash;liked him mighty well&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She was sitting in silence and apparent calmness, but she flushed and
+her lips set close together. It was evident that no half-e<a class="pagenum" title="194" name="page_194" id="page_194"></a>xplanations
+would suffice this soul of the mountain land.</p>
+
+<p>He arose finally and stood for an instant looking at her with piercing
+intentness. His deep excitement had forced him to physical action.</p>
+
+<p>"I could see he was the man for you, not me. Right there I felt like
+quitting. I went back to my hotel doing more thinking to the square
+minute than ever before in my life, I reckon. I ought to have pulled out
+for the mountains right then, but you see, I had caught a glimpse of
+you again, and I couldn't. The smell of your dress&mdash;&mdash;" he paused a
+moment. "You are the finest girl God ever made and I just couldn't go
+without seeing you, at least once more."</p>
+
+<p>He was tense, almost rigid with the stress of his sudden passion. She
+remained silent with eyes fixed upon him, musing and somber. She was
+slower to utter emotion than he, and could not speak even when he had
+finished.</p>
+
+<p>He began to walk up and down just before her, his brows moodily knitted.
+"I'm not fit to ask a girl like you to marry me, I know that. I've
+served time in jail, and I'm under indictment by the courts this very
+minute in two States. I'm no good on earth but to rope cattle. I can't
+bring myself to farm or sell goods back here, and if I could you
+oughtn't to have anything to do with me&mdash;but all the same yo<a class="pagenum" title="195" name="page_195" id="page_195"></a>u're worth
+more to me than anything else. I don't suppose there has been an hour of
+my life since I met you first that I haven't thought of you. I dreamed
+of you&mdash;when I'm riding at night&mdash;I try to think&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped abruptly and caught up her left hand. "You've got a ring on
+your finger&mdash;is that from the minister?"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes fled from his and she said, "Yes."</p>
+
+<p>He dropped her hand. "I don't blame you any. I've made a failure of it."
+His tone was that of a bankrupt at fifty. "I don't know enough to write
+a letter&mdash;I'm only a rough, tough fool. I thought you'd be thinking of
+me just the way I was thinking of you, and there was nothing to write
+about because I wasn't getting ahead as I expected. So I kept waiting
+till something turned up to encourage me. Nothing did, and now I'm paid
+for it."</p>
+
+<p>His voice had a quality which made her weep. She tried to think of some
+words of comfort but could not. She was indeed too deeply concerned with
+her own contending emotions. There was marvelous appeal in this
+powerful, bronzed, undisciplined youth. His lack of tact and gallantry,
+his disconcerting directness of look and speech shook her, troubled her,
+and rendered her weak. She was but a year younger than he, and he<a class="pagenum" title="196" name="page_196" id="page_196"></a>r life
+had been almost as simple exteriorly, but at center she was of far finer
+development. She had always been introspective, and she had grown
+self-analytic. She knew that the touch of this young desperado's hand
+had changed her relation toward the world. As he talked she listened
+without formulating a reply.</p>
+
+<p>When at last she began to speak she hesitated and her sentences were
+broken. "I am very sorry&mdash;but you see I had not heard from you for a
+long time&mdash;it would be impossible&mdash;for me to live on the plains so far
+away&mdash;even if&mdash;even if I had not promised Mr. King&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that ends it," he said harshly, and his voice brought tears
+again. "I go back to my cow punching, the only business I know. As you
+say, the cow country is no place for a girl like you. It's a mighty hard
+place for women of any kind, and you ... Besides, you're a singer, you
+can't afford to go with me. It's all a part of my luck. Things have gone
+against me from the start."</p>
+
+<p>He paused to get a secure hold on his voice. "Well, now, I'm going, but
+I don't want you to forget me; don't pray for me, just <i>sing</i> for me.
+I'll hear you, and it'll help keep me out of mischief. Will you do
+that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;if you&mdash;if it will help&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Jack's v<a class="pagenum" title="197" name="page_197" id="page_197"></a>oice, unusually loud, interrupted her, and when the father
+entered, there was little outward sign of the passionate drama just
+enacted.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't you sing for us, Mary?" asked Jack a few minutes later.</p>
+
+<p>Mary looked at Harold significantly and arose to comply. Harold sat with
+head propped on his palm and eyes fixed immovably upon her face while
+she sang, If I Were a Voice. The voice was stronger, sweeter, and the
+phrasing was more mature, but it was after all the same soul singing
+through the prison gloom, straight to his heart. She charged the words
+with a special, intimate, tender meaning. She conveyed to him the
+message she dared not speak, "Be true in spite of all. My heart is sore
+for you, let me comfort you."</p>
+
+<p>He, on his part, realized that one who could sing like that had a wider
+mission in the world than to accompany a cowboy to the bleak plains of
+the West. To comfort him was a small part of her work in the world. It
+was her mission to go on singing solace and pleasure to thousands all
+over the nation.</p>
+
+<p>When she had finished he arose and offere<a class="pagenum" title="198" name="page_198" id="page_198"></a>d his hand with a singular
+calmness which moved the girl more deeply than any word he had said.
+"When you sing that song, think of me, sometimes, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;always," she replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by," he said abruptly. Dropping her-hand, he went out without
+speaking another word.</p>
+
+<p>Jack, taking her hand in parting, found it cold and nerveless.</p>
+
+<p>"May I see you again before we go?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes lighted a little and her hand tightened in his. "Yes&mdash;I want to
+speak with you," she said, and ended in a whisper, "about him."</p>
+
+<p>Jack overtook Harold but remained silent. When they reached their room,
+Harold dropped into a chair like one exhausted by a fierce race.</p>
+
+<p>"This ends it, Jack, I'll never set foot in the States again; from this
+time on I keep to the mountains."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="199" name="page_199" id="page_199"></a><a name="THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_DREAMS_OF_A_MATE" id="THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_DREAMS_OF_A_MATE"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+<h3>THE YOUNG EAGLE DREAMS OF A MATE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>As the young men sat at supper that night a note was handed to Jack by
+the clerk. Upon opening it he found a smaller envelope addressed to "Mr.
+Harding." Harold took it, but did not open it, though it promised well,
+being quite thick with leaves. Jack read his note at a glance and passed
+it across the table. It was simple:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>"DEAR MR. BURNS: Won't you please see that the inclosed note
+reaches Harold. I wish you could persuade him to come and see me
+once more before he goes. I shall expect to see <i>you</i> anyhow.
+Father does not suspect anything out of the ordinary as yet, and
+it will be quite safe.</p>
+
+<p style="text-align:right; margin-right:10%;">&#34;Your friend,</p>
+<p style="text-align:right; margin-top: -0.75em;">&#34;MARY YARDWELL.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="200" name="page_200" id="page_200"></a>As
+soon as he decently could Harold went to his room and opened the
+important letter. In it the reticent-girl had uttered herself with
+unusual freedom. It was a long letter, and its writer must have gone to
+its composition at once after the door had closed upon her visitors. It
+began abruptly, too:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>"DEAR FRIEND: My heart aches for you. From the time I first
+saw you in the jail I have carried your face in my mind. I
+can't quite analyze my feeling for you now. You are so
+different
+from the boy I knew. I think I am a little afraid
+of you, you scare me a little.&nbsp; You are of another world, a
+strange world of which I would like to hear. I have a woman's
+curiosity, I can't let you go away until you tell me all your
+<a class="pagenum" title="201" name="page_201" id="page_201"></a>story.
+I would like to say something on my own side
+also. Can't you come and see me once more? My father is going
+to be away at his farm all day to-morrow, can't you come with
+Mr.&nbsp; Burns and take dinner with me and tell me all about
+yourself&mdash;your life is so strange.</p>
+
+<p>"There will be no one there (I mean at dinner) but Mr. Burns
+and you, and we can talk freely. Does being 'under
+indictment' mean that you are in danger of arrest? I want to
+understand all about that. You can't know how strange and
+exciting all these things are to me. My life is so humdrum
+here. You come into it like a great mountain wind. You take
+my words away as well as my breath. I am not like most women,
+words are not easy to me even when I write, though I write
+better than I talk&mdash;I think.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. King asked me to be his wife some months ago, and I
+promised to do so, but that is no reason why we should not be
+good friends.&nbsp; You have been too much in my life to go out of
+it altogether, though I had given up seeing you again, and
+then we always think of our friends as we last saw them, we
+can't imagine their development. Don't you find this so? You
+said you found me changed.</p>
+
+<p>"I have little to tell you about myself. I graduated and then
+I spent one winter in Chicago to continue my music studies. I
+am teaching here summers to get pin money. It is so quiet
+here one grows to think all the world very far away, and the
+wild things among which you have lived and worked are almost
+unimaginable even when the newspapers describe them with the
+greatest minuteness.</p>
+
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="202" name="page_202" id="page_202"></a>
+"This letter is very rambling, I know, but I am writing as
+rapidly as I can, for I want to send it to you before you
+take the train.&nbsp; Please come to see me to-morrow. To-night I
+sing in the song service at the church. I hope you will be
+there. The more I think about your story the more eager to
+listen I become. There must be some basis of stirring deeds
+for all the tales they tell of you.&nbsp; My friends say I have a
+touch of the literary poison in my veins; anyhow I like a
+story above all things, and to hear the hero tell his own
+adventures will be the keenest delight.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry I could not do more to make things easier for you
+to-day, but I come of men and women who are silent when they
+mean most. I am never facile of speech and to-day I was
+dumb. Perhaps if we meet on a clear understanding we will get
+along better. Come, anyhow, and let me know you as you
+are. Perhaps I have never really known you, perhaps I only
+imagined you.</p>
+
+<p style="text-align:right; margin-right:10%;">&#34;Your friend,</p>
+<p style="text-align:right; margin-top: -0.75em;">&#34;MARY YARDWELL.</p>
+
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="203" name="page_203" id="page_203"></a>
+"P.S. The reason for the postscript is that I have re-read
+the foregoing letter and find it unsatisfactory in everything
+except the expression of my wish to see you. I had meant to
+say so much and I have said so little. I am afraid now that I
+shall not see you at all, so I add my promise. I shall always
+remember you and I <i>will</i> think of you when I sing, and I
+will sing If I Were a Voice every Sunday for you, especially
+when I am all alone, and I'll send it out to you by thought
+waves. You shall never fail of the best wishes of</p>
+
+<p style="text-align:right;">&#34;MARY YARDWELL.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Not being trained in psychologic subtleties, Harold took this letter to
+mean only what it said. He was not as profoundly moved by it as he would
+have been could he have read beneath the lines the tumult he had
+produced in the tranquil life of its writer. One skilled in perception
+of a woman's moods could have detected a sense of weakness, or
+irresolution, or longing in a girl whose nature had not yet been tried
+by conflicting emotions.</p>
+
+<p>Jack perceived something of this when Harold gave him the letter to
+read. His admiration of Harold's grace and power, his love for every
+gesture and every lineament of his boyis<a class="pagenum" title="204" name="page_204" id="page_204"></a>h hero, made it possible for him
+to understand how deeply Mary had been moved when brought face to face
+with a handsome and powerful man who loved as lions love. He handed the
+letter back with a smile: "I think you'd better stay over and see her."</p>
+
+<p>"I intend to," replied Harold; "wire father to come up."</p>
+
+<p>"Let's go walk. We may happen by the church where she sings," suggested
+Jack.</p>
+
+<p>It was a very beautiful hour of the day. The west was filled with cool,
+purple-gray clouds, and a fresh wind had swept away all memory of the
+heat of the day. Insects filled the air with quavering song. Children
+were romping on the lawns. Lovers sauntered by in pairs or swung under
+the trees in hammocks. Old people sat reading or listlessly talking
+beside their cottage doors. A few carriages were astir. It was a day of
+rest and peace and love-making to this busy little community. The mills
+were still and even the water seemed to run less swiftly, only the
+fishes below the dam had cause to regret the day's release from toil,
+for on every rock a fisherman was poised.</p>
+
+<p>The tension being a little relieved, Harold was able to listen to Jack's
+news of Rock River. His father was still preaching in the First Church,
+but several influential men had split off and were actively antagonizing
+the majority of the congregation. The fight was at its bitterest. Maud
+had now three children, and her husband was doing well in hardware. This
+old schoolmate was married, that one was dead, many had moved West.
+Br<a class="pagenum" title="205" name="page_205" id="page_205"></a>adley Talcott was running for State Legislator. Radbourn was in
+Washington.</p>
+
+<p>Talking on quietly the two young men walked out of the village into a
+lane bordered with Lombardy poplars. Harold threw himself down on the
+grass beneath them and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Now I can imagine I am back on the old farm. Tell me all about your
+folks."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they're just the same. They don't change much. Father scraped some
+money together and built a new bedroom on the west side. Mother calls it
+'the boys' room.' By 'boys' they mean you and me. They expect us to
+sleep there when you come back on a visit. They'll be terribly
+disappointed at not seeing you. Mother seems to think as much of you as
+she does of me."</p>
+
+<p>There was charm in the thought of the Burns' farm and Mrs. Burns coming
+and going about the big kitchen stove, the smell of wholesome cooking
+about her clothing, and for the moment the desperado's brain became as a
+child's. There was sadness in the thought that he never again could see
+his loyal friends or the old walks and lanes.</p>
+
+<p>Jack aroused him and they walked briskly back toward the little church
+which they found already quite filled with young people. The choir,
+including Mary, smi<a class="pagenum" title="206" name="page_206" id="page_206"></a>led at the audience and at each other, for the spirit
+of the little church was humanly cheerful.</p>
+
+<p>The strangers found seats in a corner pew together with a pale young man
+and a very pretty little girl. Jack was not imaginative, but he could
+not help thinking of the commotion which would follow if those around
+him should learn that "Black Mose" was at that moment seated among them.
+Mary, seeing the dark, stern face of the plainsman, had some such
+thought also. There was something gloriously unfettered, compelling, and
+powerful in his presence. He made the other young men appear commonplace
+and feeble in her eyes, and threw the minister into pale relief,
+emphasizing his serenity, his scholarship, and his security of position.</p>
+
+<p>Harold gave close attention to the young minister, who, as Mary's lover,
+became important. As a man of action he put a low valuation on a mere
+scholar, but King was by no means contemptible physically. Jack also
+perceived the charm of such a man to Mary, and acknowledged the good
+sense of her choice. King could give her a pleasant home among people
+she liked, while Harold could only ask her to go to the wild country, to
+a log ranch in a cottonwood gulch, there to live month after month
+without seeing a woman or a child.</p>
+
+<p>A bitter and desperate melancholy fell upon the plainsman. What was the
+use? Such a woman was not for him. He had only the pleasure of the wild
+country. He would go back to his horse<a class="pagenum" title="207" name="page_207" id="page_207"></a>s, his guns, and the hills, and
+never again come under the disturbing influence of this beautiful
+singer. She was not of his world; her smiles were not for him. When the
+others arose in song he remained seated, his sullen face set toward the
+floor, denying himself the pleasure of even seeing Mary's face as she
+sang.</p>
+
+<p>Her voice arose above the chorus, guiding, directing, uplifting the less
+confident ones. When she sang she was certain of herself, powerful,
+self-contained. That night she sang with such power and sweetness that
+the minister turned and smiled upon her at the end. He spoke over the
+low railing which separated them: "You surpass yourself to-night."</p>
+
+<p>Looking across the heads of the audience as they began to take seats
+Harold saw this smile and action, and his face darkened again.</p>
+
+<p>For her solo Mary selected one which expressed in simple words the
+capabilities each humble soul had for doing good. If one could not storm
+the stars in song one could bathe a weary brow. If one could not write a
+mighty poem one could speak a word of cheer to the toiler by the way.</p>
+
+<p>It was all poor stuff enough, but the singer filled it with significance
+and appeal. At the moment it seem<a class="pagenum" title="208" name="page_208" id="page_208"></a>ed as if such things were really worth
+doing. Each word came from her lips as though it had never been uttered
+by human lips before, so simple, so musical, so finely enunciated, so
+well valued was it. To Harold, so long separated from any approach to
+womanly art, it appealed with enormous power. He was not only
+sensitive, he was just come to the passion and impressionability of
+full-blooded young manhood. Powers converged upon him, and simple and
+direct as he was, the effects were confusion and deepest dejection. He
+heard nothing but Mary's voice, saw nothing but her radiant beauty. To
+him she was more wonderful than any words could express.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of the singing he refused to wait till she came down the
+aisle, but hurried out into the open air away from the crowd. As Jack
+caught up with him he said: "You go to bed; I've got to take a run out
+into the country or I can't sleep at all. Father will be up in the
+morning, I suppose. I'll get off in the six o'clock train to-morrow
+night."</p>
+
+<p>Jack said nothing, not even in assent, and Mose set off up the lane with
+more of mental torment than had ever been his experience before.
+Hitherto all had been simple. He loved horses, the wild <a class="pagenum" title="209" name="page_209" id="page_209"></a>things, the
+trail, the mountains, the ranch duties, and the perfect freedom of a man
+of action. Since the door of his prison opened to allow him to escape
+into the West he had encountered no doubts, had endured no remorse, and
+had felt but little fear. All that he did was forthright, manly,
+single-purposed, and unhesitating.</p>
+
+<p>Now all seemed changed. His horses, his guns, the joys of free spaces,
+were met by a counter allurement which was the voice of a woman. Strong
+as he was, stern as he looked, he was still a boy in certain ways, and
+this mental tumult, so new and strange to him, wearied him almost to
+tears. It was a fatigue, an ache which he could not shake off, and when
+he returned to the hotel he had settled nothing and was ready to flee
+from it all without one backward look. However, he slept soundlier than
+he thought himself capable of doing.</p>
+
+<p>He was awakened early by Jack: "Harry, your father is here, and very
+anxious to see you."</p>
+
+<p>Mose arose slowly and reluctantly. He had nothing to say to his father,
+and dreaded the interview, which he feared would be unpleasantly
+emotional. The father met him with face pale and hands trembling with
+emotion. "My son, my son!" he whispered. Mose stood silently wondering
+why his father should make so much fuss over him.<a class="pagenum" title="210" name="page_210" id="page_210"></a></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Excell soon recovered his self-command, and his voice cleared. "I
+had almost given up seeing you, Harold. I recognize you with
+difficulty&mdash;you have changed much. You seem well and strong&mdash;almost as
+tall as I was at your age."</p>
+
+<p>"I hold my own," said Harold, and they all sat down more at ease. "I got
+into rough gangs out there, but I reckon they got as good as they
+sent."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose the newspapers have greatly exaggerated about your
+conflicts?"</p>
+
+<p>Harold was a little disposed to shock his father. "Oh, yes, I don't
+think I really killed as many men as they tell about; I don't know that
+I killed any."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you did not lightly resort to the use of deadly weapons," said
+Mr. Excell sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"It was kill or be killed," said Harold grimly. "It was like shooting a
+pack of howling wolves. I made up my mind to be just one shot ahead of
+anybody. There are certain counties out<a class="pagenum" title="211" name="page_211" id="page_211"></a> there where the name 'Black
+Mose' means something."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry for that, my son. I hope you don't drink?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you worry about that. I can't afford to drink, and if I could I
+wouldn't. Oh, I take a glass of beer with the boys once in a while on a
+hot day, but it's my lay to keep sober. A drunken man is a soft mark."
+He changed the subject: "Seems to me you're a good deal grayer."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Excell ran his fingers through the tumbled heap of his grizzled
+hair. "Yes; things are troubling me a little. The McPhails are fighting
+me in the church, and intend to throw me out and ruin me if they can,
+but I shall fight them till the bitter end. I am not to be whipped out
+like a dog."</p>
+
+<p>"That's the talk! Don't let 'em run you out. I got run out of Cheyenne,
+but I'll never run again. I was only a kid then. After you throw 'em
+down, come out West and round up the cowboys. They won't play any
+underhanded games on you, and mebbe you can do them some
+good&mdash;especially on gambling. They are sure enough idiots about cards."</p>
+
+<p>They went down to breakfast together, but did not sit together.</p>
+
+<p>Jack and H<a class="pagenum" title="212" name="page_212" id="page_212"></a>arold talked in low voices about Mr. Excell.</p>
+
+<p>"The old man looks pretty well run down, don't he?" said Harold.</p>
+
+<p>"He worries a whole lot about you."</p>
+
+<p>"He needn't to. When does he go back?"</p>
+
+<p>"He wants to stay all day&mdash;just as long as he can."</p>
+
+<p>"He'd better pull right out on that ten o'clock train. His being here is
+sure to give me away sooner or later."</p>
+
+<p>It was hard for the father to say good-by. He had a feeling that it was
+the last time he should ever see him, and his face was gray with
+suffering as he faced his son for the last time. Harold became not
+merely unresponsive, he grew harsher of voice each moment. His father's
+tremulous and repeated words seemed to him foolish and absurd&mdash;and also
+inconsiderate. After he was gone he burst out in wrath.</p>
+
+<p>"Why can't he act like a man? I don't want anybody to snivel over me.
+Suppose I <i>am</i> to be shot this fall, what of it?"</p>
+
+<p>This disgust and bitterness prepared him, strange to say, for his call
+upon Mary. He entered the house, master of himself and the situation.
+His nerves were like steel, and his stern face did not quiver in its
+minutest muscle, though she met him in most gracious mood, dressed as
+for conquest and very beautiful.<a class="pagenum" title="213" name="page_213" id="page_213"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I'm so glad you stayed over," she said. "I have been so eager to hear
+all about your life out there." She led the way to the little parlor
+once more and drew a chair near him.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," he began, "it isn't exactly the kind of life your Mr. King
+leads."</p>
+
+<p>There was a vengeful sneer in his voice which Mary felt as if he had
+struck her, but she said gently:</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose our life does seem very tame to you now."</p>
+
+<p>"It's sure death. I couldn't stand it for a year; I'd rot."</p>
+
+<p>Mary was aware that some sinister change had come over him, and she
+paused to study him keenly. The tremulous quality of his voice and
+action had passed away. He was hard, stern, self-contained, and she
+(without being a coquette) determined that his mood should give way to
+hers. He set himself hard against the charm of her lovely presence and
+the dainty room. Mary ceased to smile, but her brows remained level.</p>
+
+<p>"You men seem to think that all women are fond only of the quiet things,
+but it isn't true. We like the big deeds in the open air, too. I'd like
+to see a cattle ranch and take a look at a 'round-up,' though I don't
+know exactly what that means."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we're not on the<a class="pagenum" title="214" name="page_214" id="page_214"></a> round-up all the time," he said, relaxing a
+little. "It's pretty quiet part of the time; that is, quiet for our
+country. But then, you're always on a horse and you're out in the air on
+the plains with the mountains in sight. There's a lot of hard work about
+it, too, and it's lonesome sometimes when your're ridin' the lines, but
+I like it. When it gets a little too tame for me I hit the trail for the
+mountains with an Indian. The Ogallalahs are my friends, and I'm going
+to spend the winter with them and then go into the West Elk country. I'm
+due to kill a grizzly this year and some mountain sheep." He was started
+now, and Mary had only to listen. "Before I stop, I'm going to know all
+there is to know of the Rocky Mountains. With ol' Kintuck and my
+Winchester I'm goin' to hit the sunset trail and hit it hard. There's
+nothing to keep me now," he said with a sudden glance at her. "It don't
+matter where I turn up or pitch camp. I reckon I'd better not try to be
+a cattle king." He smiled bitterly and pitilessly at the poor figure he
+cut. "I reckon I'm a kind of a mounted hobo from this on."</p>
+
+<p>"But your father and sister&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, she isn't worryin' any about me; I haven't had a letter from her
+for two years. All I've got now is Jack, and he'd be no earthly good on
+the trail. He'd sure lose his glasses in a fight, and then he couldn't
+tell a grizzly from a two-year-old cow. So you see, there's nothing to
+hinder me from going anywhere. I'm footloose. I want to spend one summer
+in the Flat Top country. Ute Jim tells me it's fine. Then I want to go
+into the Wind River Mountains for elk. Old Talfeather, chief of the
+Ogallalahs, has promised to take me into the Big Horn Range. After that
+I'm going down into the southwest, down through the Uncompagre country.
+Reynolds says they'<a class="pagenum" title="215" name="page_215" id="page_215"></a>re the biggest yet, and I'm going to keep right down
+into the Navajo reservation. I've got a bid from old Silver Arrow, and
+then I'm going to Walpi and see the Mokis dance. They say they carry
+live rattlesnakes in their mouths. I don't believe it: I'm going to see.
+Then I swing 'round to the Grand Ca&ntilde;on of the Colorado. They say that's
+the sorriest gash in the ground that ever happened. Reynolds gave me a
+letter to old Hance; he's the man that watches to see that no one
+carries the hole away. Then I'm going to take a turn over the Mohave
+desert into Southern California. I'm due at the Yosemite Valley about a
+year from next fall. I'll come back over the divide by way of Salt
+Lake."</p>
+
+<p>He was on his feet, and his eyes were glowing. He seemed to have
+forgotten all women in the sweep of his imaginative journey.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that will be grand! How will you do it?"</p>
+
+<p>"On old Kintuck, if his legs don't wear off."</p>
+
+<p>"How will you live?"</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="216" name="page_216" id="page_216"></a></p>
+<p>"Forage where I can. Turn to and help on a 'round-up,' or 'drive' where
+I can&mdash;shoot and fish&mdash;oh, I'll make it if it takes ten years."</p>
+
+<p>"Then what?" Mary asked, with a curious intonation.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll start for the Northwest," he replied after a little
+hesitation&mdash;"if I live. Of course the chances are I'll turn up my toes
+somewhere on the trail. A man is liable to make a miss-lick somewhere,
+but that's all in the game. A man had better die on the trail than in a
+dead furrow."</p>
+
+<p>Mary looked at him with dreaming eyes. His strange moods filled her with
+new and powerful emotions. The charm of the wild life he depicted
+appealed to her as well as to him. It was all a fearsome venture, but
+after all it was glorious. The placid round of her own life seemed for
+the moment intolerably commonplace. There was epic largeness in the
+circuit of the plainsman's daring plans. The wonders of Nature which he
+catalogued loomed large in the misty knowledge she held of the West. She
+cried out:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I wish I could see those wonde<a class="pagenum" title="217" name="page_217" id="page_217"></a>rful scenes!"</p>
+
+<p>He turned swiftly: "You can; I'll take you."</p>
+
+<p>She shrank back. "Oh, no! I didn't mean that&mdash;I meant&mdash;some time&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>His face darkened. "In a sleeping car, I reckon. That time'll never
+come."</p>
+
+<p>Then a silence fell on them. Harold knew that his plans could not be
+carried out with a woman for companion&mdash;and he had sense enough to know
+that Mary's words were born of a momentary enthusiasm. When he spoke it
+was with characteristic blunt honesty.</p>
+
+<p>"No; right here our trails fork, Mary. Ever since I saw you in the jail
+the first time, you've been worth more to me than anything else in the
+world, but I can see now that things never can go right with you and me.
+I couldn't live back here, and you couldn't live with me out there. I'm
+a kind of an outlaw, anyway. I made up my mind last night that I'd hit
+the trail alone. I won't even ask Jack to go with me. There's something
+in me here"&mdash;he laid his hand on his breast&mdash;"that kind o' chimes in
+with the wind in the pi&ntilde;ons and the yap of the ky-ote. The rooster and
+the church bells are too tame for me. That's all there is about it.
+Maybe when I get old and feeble in the knees I'll feel like pitchin' a
+permanent camp, but just now I don't; I want to be on the move. If I had
+a nice ranch, and you, I might settle down now, but then you couldn't
+stand even a ranch with nearest neighbors ten mil<a class="pagenum" title="218" name="page_218" id="page_218"></a>es away." He turned to
+take his hat. "I wanted to see you&mdash;I didn't plan for anything
+else&mdash;I've seen you and so&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you're not going now!" she cried. "You haven't told me your story."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I have; all that you'd care to hear. It don't amount to much,
+except the murder charges, and they are wrong. It wasn't my fault. They
+crowded me too hard, and I had to defend myself. What is a man to do
+when it's kill or be killed? That's all over and past, anyway. From this
+time on I camp high. The roosters and church bells are getting too thick
+on the Arickaree."</p>
+
+<p>He crushed his hat in his hand as he turned to her, and tears were in
+her eyes as she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't go; I expected you to stay to dinner with me."</p>
+
+<p>"The quicker I get out o' here the better," he replied hoarsely, and she
+saw that he was trembling. "What's the good of it? I'm out of it."</p>
+
+<p>She looked up at him in silence, her mind filled with the confused
+struggle between her passion and her reason. He allured her, this grave
+and stern outlaw, appealing to some primitive longing within her.</p>
+
+<p>"I hate to see you go," she said slowly.
+<a class="pagenum" title="219" name="page_219" id="page_219"></a>"But&mdash;I&mdash;suppose it is best. I
+don't like to have you forget me&mdash;I shall not forget you, and I will
+sing for you every Sunday afternoon, and no matter where you are, in a
+deep ca&ntilde;on, or anywhere, or among the Indians, you just stop and listen
+and think of me, and maybe you'll hear my voice."</p>
+
+<p>Tears were in her eyes as she spoke, and he took a man's advantage of
+her emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps if I come back&mdash;if I make a strike somewhere&mdash;if you'd say
+so&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head sadly but conclusively. "No, no, I can't promise
+anything."</p>
+
+<p>"All right&mdash;that settles it. Good-by."</p>
+
+<p>And she had nothing better to say than just "Good-by, good-by."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="220" name="page_220" id="page_220"></a>
+<a name="THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_RETURNS_TO_HIS_EYRIE" id="THE_YOUNG_EAGLE_RETURNS_TO_HIS_EYRIE"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+<h3>THE YOUNG EAGLE RETURNS TO HIS EYRIE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was good to face the West again. The wild heart of the youth flung
+off all doubt, all regret. Not for him were the quiet joys of village
+life. No lane or street could measure his flight. His were the gleaming,
+immeasurable walls of the Sangre de Cristo range, his the grassy
+mountain parks and the silent ca&ntilde;ons, and the peaks. "To hell with the
+East, and all it owns," was his mood, and in that mood he renounced all
+claim to Mary.</p>
+
+<p>He sat with meditative head against the windowpane, listless as a caged
+and sullen eagle, but his soul was far ahead, swooping above the swells
+that cut into the murky sky. His eyes studied every rod of soil as he
+retraced his way up that great wind-swept slope, noting every change in
+vegetation or settlement. Five years before he had crept like a lizard;
+now he was rushing straight on like the homing eagle who sees his home
+crag gleam in the setting sun.</p>
+
+<p>The cactus looked up at him with spiney face. The first prairie dog
+sitting erect uttered a greeting to which he smiled. The first mirage
+filled his heart with a rush of memories of wild rides, and the grease
+wood recalled a hundred odorous camp fires. He was getting home.</p>
+
+<p>The people at the stations grew more unkempt, untamed. The broad hats
+and long mustaches of the men proclaimed the cow country at last. It
+seemed as though he might at any moment recognize some of them. At a
+certain risk to himself he got off the train at one or two points to
+talk with the boys. As it grew dark he took advantage of every wait to
+stretch his legs and enjoy the fresh air, so different in its clarity
+and crisp dryness from the leaf-burdened, mist-filled atmosphere of
+Marmion. He lifted his eyes to the West with longing too great for
+words, eager to see the great peaks peer above the plain's rim.<a class="pagenum" title="221" name="page_221" id="page_221"></a></p>
+
+<p>The night was far spent when the brakeman called the name of the little
+town in which he had left his outfit, and he rose up stiff and sore from
+his cramped position.</p>
+
+<p>Kintuck, restless from long confinement in a stall, chuckled with joy
+when his master entered and called to him. It was still dark, but that
+mattered little to such as Mose. He flung the saddle on and cinched it
+tight. He rolled his extra clothes in his blanket and tied it behind
+his saddle, and then, with one hand on his pommel, he said to the
+hostler, moved by a bitter recklessness of mind:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that squares us, stranger. If anybody asks you which-a-way 'Black
+Mose' rode jist say ye didn't notice." A leap, a rush of hoofs, and the
+darkness had eaten both horse and man.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long ride, and as he rode the dawn came over the plains, swift,
+silent, majestic with color. His blood warmed in his limbs and his head
+lifted. He was at home in the wild once more, all ties were cut between
+him and the East. Mary was not for him. Maud had grown indifferent, Jack
+would never come West, and Mr. and Mrs. Burns were merely cheery
+memories. There was nothing now to look backward upon&mdash;nothing to check
+his career as hunter and explorer. All that he had done up to this
+moment was but careful preparation for great journeys. He resolved to
+fling himself into unknown trails&mdash;to know the mountains as no other man
+knew them.<a class="pagenum" title="222" name="page_222" id="page_222"></a></p>
+
+<p>Again he rode down into the valley of the Arickaree, and as the boys
+came rolling out with cordial shouts of welcome, his eyes smarted a
+little. He slipped from his horse and shook hands all around, and ended
+by snatching Pink and pressing her soft cheek against his
+lips&mdash;something he had never done before.</p>
+
+<p>They bustled to get his breakfast, while Reynolds took care of Kintuck.
+Cora, blushing prettily as she set the table for him, said: "We're
+mighty glad to see you back, Mose. Daddy said you'd never turn up again,
+but I held out you would."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I couldn't stay away from Kintuck and little Pink," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"How'd they feed ye back there?" inquired Mrs. Reynolds.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, fair to middlin'&mdash;but, of course, they couldn't cook like Ma
+Reynolds."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you go hark!" cried Mrs. Reynolds, vastly delighted. "They've got
+so much more to do with."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="223" name="page_223" id="page_223"></a></p>
+<p>It was good to sit there in the familiar kitchen and watch these simple,
+hearty women working with joy to feed him. His heart was very tender,
+and he answered most of their questions with unusual spirit, fending
+off, however, any reference to old sweethearts. His talk was all of
+absorbing interest to the women. They were hungry to know how people
+were living and dressing back there. It was so sweet and fine to be able
+to return to the East&mdash;and Mrs. Reynolds hoped to do so before she died.
+Cora drew from Mose the information that the lawns were beautifully
+green in Marmion, and that all kinds of flowers were in blossom, and
+that the birds were singing in the maples. Even his meagre descriptions
+brought back to the girl the green freshness of June.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm so tired of these bare hills," she said wistfully. "I wish I
+could go East again, back to our old home in Missouri."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish now I'd stayed here and sent you," said Mose.</p>
+
+<p>She turned in surprise. "Why so, Mose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because I had so little fun out of it, while to you it would have been
+a picnic."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="224" name="page_224" id="page_224"></a></p>
+<p>"You're mighty good, Mose," was all she said in reply, but her eyes
+lingered upon his face, which seemed handsomer than ever before, for it
+was softened by his love, his good friends, and the cheerful home.</p>
+
+<p>In the days that followed Cora took on new youth and beauty. Her head
+lifted, and the swell of her bosom had more of pride and grace than ever
+before in her life. She no longer shrank from the gaze of men, even of
+strangers, for Mose seemed her lover and protector. Before his visit to
+the East she had doubted, but now she let her starved heart feed on
+dreams of him.</p>
+
+<p>Mose had little time to give to her, for (at his own request) Reynolds
+was making the highest use of his power. "I want to earn every cent I
+can for the next three months," Mose explained, and he often did double
+duty. He was very expert now with the rope and could throw and tie a
+steer with the best of the men. His muscles seemed never to tire nor his
+nerves to fail him. Rain, all-night rides, sleeping on the ground
+beneath frosty blankets, nothing seemed to trouble him. He was never
+cheery, but he was never sullen.</p>
+
+<p>One day in November he rode up to the home ranch leading a mule with a
+pack saddle fully rigged.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing with that mule?" asked Reynolds as he came out of
+the house, followed by Pink.<a class="pagenum" title="225" name="page_225" id="page_225"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to pack him."</p>
+
+<p>"Pack him? What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to hit 'the long trail.'"</p>
+
+<p>Cora came hurrying forward. "Good evening, Mose."</p>
+
+<p>"Good evening, Cory. How's my little Pink?"</p>
+
+<p>"What did you say about hittin' the trail, Mose?"</p>
+
+<p>"Now I reckon you'll give an account of yourself," said Reynolds with a
+wink.</p>
+
+<p>Mose was anxious to avoid an emotional moment; he cautiously replied:
+"Oh, I'm off on a little hunting excursion; don't get excited about it.
+I'm hungry as a coyote; can I eat?"</p>
+
+<p>Cora was silenced but not convinced, and after supper, when the old
+people withdrew from the kitchen, she returned to the subject again.</p>
+
+<p>"How long are you going to be gone this time?"</p>
+
+<p>Mose saw the storm coming, but would not lie to avoid it.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="226" name="page_226" id="page_226"></a></p>
+<p>"I don't know; mebbe all winter."</p>
+
+<p>She dropped into a chair facing him, white and still. When she spoke her
+voice was a wail. "O Mose! I can't live here all winter without you."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, you can; you've got Pink and the old folks."</p>
+
+<p>"But I want <i>you</i>! I'll die here without you, Mose. I can't endure it."</p>
+
+<p>His face darkened. "You'd better forget me; I'm a hoodoo, Cory; nobody
+is ever in luck when I'm around. I make everybody miserable."</p>
+
+<p>"I was never really happy till you come," she softly replied.</p>
+
+<p>"There are a lot of better men than I am jest a-hone'in to marry you,"
+he interrupted her to say.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want them&mdash;I don't want anybody but you, and now you go off and
+leave me&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The situation was beyond any subtlety of the man, and he sat in silence
+while she wept. When he could command himself he said:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm mighty sorry, Cory, but I reckon the best way out of it is to just
+take myself off in the hills where I can't interfere with any one's fun
+but my own. Seems to me I'm fated to make trouble all along the line,
+and I'm going to pull out where there's nobody but wolves and grizzlies,
+and fight it out with them."</p>
+
+<p>She was filled wi<a class="pagenum" title="227" name="page_227" id="page_227"></a>th a new terror: "What do you mean? I don't believe you
+intend to come back at all!" She looked at him piteously, the tears on
+her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I'll round the circle some time."</p>
+
+<p>She flung herself down on the chair arm and sobbed unrestrainedly.
+"Don't go&mdash;please!"</p>
+
+<p>Mose felt a sudden touch of the same disgust which came upon him in the
+presence of his father's enforcing affection. He arose. "Now, Cory, see
+here; don't you waste any time on me. I'm no good under the sun. I like
+you and I like Pinkie, but I don't want you to cry over me. I ain't
+worth it. Now that's the God's truth. I'm a black hoodoo, and you'll
+never prosper till I skip; I'm not fit to marry any woman."</p>
+
+<p>Singularly enough, this gave the girl almost instant comfort, and she
+lifted her head and dried her eyes, and before he left she smiled a
+little, though her face was haggard and tear stained.</p>
+
+<p>Mose was up early and had his packs ready and Kintuck saddled when Mrs.
+Reynolds called him to breakfast. Cora's pale face and piteous eyes
+moved him more deeply than her sobbing the night before, but there was a
+certain inexorable fixedness in his resolution, and he did not falter.
+At bottom the deciding cause was Mary. She had passed out of his life,
+but no other woman could take her place&mdash;therefore he was ready to cut
+loose from all things feminine.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Mose, <a class="pagenum" title="228" name="page_228" id="page_228"></a>I'm sorry to see you go, I certainly am so," said Reynolds.
+"<i>But</i>, you ah you' own master. All I can say is, this old ranch is
+open to you, and shall be so long as we stay hyer&mdash;though I am mighty
+uncertain how long we shall be able to hold out agin this new land-boom.
+You had better not stay away too long, or you may miss us. I reckon we
+ah all to be driven to the mountains very soon."</p>
+
+<p>"I may be back in the spring. I'm likely to need money, and be obliged
+to come back to you for a job."</p>
+
+<p>On this tiny crumb of comfort Cora's hungry heart seized greedily. The
+little pink-cheeked one helped out the sad meal. She knew nothing of the
+long trail upon which her hero was about to set foot, and took
+possession of the conversation by telling of a little antelope which
+one of the cowboys had brought her.</p>
+
+<p>The mule was packed and Mose was about to say good-by. The sun was still
+low in the eastern sky. Frost was on the grass, but the air was crisp
+and pleasant. All the family stood beside him as he packed his outfit on
+the mule and threw over it the diamond hitch. As he straightened up he
+turned to the waiting ones and said: "Do you see that gap in the range?"</p>
+
+<p>They all looked where he pointed. Down in the West, but lighted into
+unearthly splendor by the morning light, arose the great range of snowy
+peaks. In the midst of this impassable wall a purple notch could be
+seen.</p>
+
+<p>"Ever sence I've been here," said Mose, with singular emotion, "I've
+looked away at that range<a class="pagenum" title="229" name="page_229" id="page_229"></a> and I've been waiting my chance to see what
+that ca&ntilde;on is like. There runs my trail&mdash;good-by."</p>
+
+<p>He shook hands hastily with Cora, heartily with Mrs. Reynolds, and
+kissed Pink, who said: "Bring me a little bear or a fox."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, honey, you shall have a grizzly."</p>
+
+<p>He swung into the saddle. "Here I hit the trail for yon blue notch and
+the land where the sun goes down. So long."</p>
+
+<p>"Take care o' yourself, boy."</p>
+
+<p>"Come back soon," called Cora, and covered her face with her shawl in a
+world-old gesture of grief.</p>
+
+<p>In the days that followed she thought of him as she saw him last, a
+minute fleck on the plain. She thought of him when the rains fell, and
+prayed that he might not fall ill of fever or be whelmed by a stream. He
+seemed so little and weak when measured against that mighty and
+merciless wall of snow. Then when the cold white storms came and the
+plain was hid in the fury of wind and sleet, she shuddered and thought
+of him camped beside a rock, cold and hungry. She thought of him lying
+with a broken leg, helpless, while his faithful beasts pawed the ground
+and whinnied their distress. S<a class="pagenum" title="230" name="page_230" id="page_230"></a>he spoke of these things once or twice,
+but her father merely smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Mose can take care of himself, daughter, don't you worry."</p>
+
+<p>Months passed before they had a letter from him, and when it came it
+bore the postmark of Durango.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>"DEAR FRIENDS: I should a-written before, but the fact is I
+hate to write and then I've been on the move all the time. I
+struck through the gap and angled down to Taos, a Pueblo
+Indian town, where I stayed for a while&mdash;then went on down
+the Valley to Sante Fee.&nbsp; Then I hunted up Delmar. He was
+glad to see me, but he looks old. He had a hell of a time
+after I left. It wasn't the way the papers had it&mdash;but he won
+out all right. He sold his sheep and quit. He said he got
+tired of shooting men. I stayed with him&mdash;he's got a nice
+family&mdash;two girls&mdash;and then I struck out into the Pueblo
+country.&nbsp; These little brown chaps interest me but they're a
+different breed o' cats from the Ogallalahs. Everybody talks
+about the Snake Dance at Moki, so I'm angling out that
+way. I'm going to do a little cow punchin' for a man in
+Apache County and go on to the Dance. I'm going through the
+Navajoe reservation. I stand in with them. They've heard of
+me some way&mdash;through the Utes I reckon."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The accounts of the Snake Dance contained mention of "Black Mose," who
+kept a band of toughs from interfering with the dance. His wonderful
+marksmanship was spoken of. He did not wri<a class="pagenum" title="231" name="page_231" id="page_231"></a>te till he reached Flagstaff.
+His letter was very brief. "I'm going into the Grand Ca&ntilde;on for a few
+days, then I go to work on a ranch south of here for the winter. In the
+spring I'm going over the range into California."</p>
+
+<p>When they heard of him next he was deputy marshal of a mining town, and
+the Denver papers contained long despatches about his work in clearing
+the town of desperadoes. After that they lost track of him
+altogether&mdash;but Cora never gave him up. "He'll round the big circle one
+o' these days&mdash;and when he does he'll find us all waiting, won't he,
+pet?" and she drew little Pink close to her hungry heart.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+
+<h2><a class="pagenum" title="233" name="page_233" id="page_233"></a><a name="PART_III" id="PART_III"></a>PART III</h2>
+
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="THE_EAGLE_COMPLETES_HIS_CIRCLE" id="THE_EAGLE_COMPLETES_HIS_CIRCLE"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+<h3>THE EAGLE COMPLETES HIS CIRCLE</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>All days were Sunday in the great mining camp of Wagon Wheel, so far as
+legal enactment ran, but on Saturday night, in following ancient habit,
+the men came out of their prospect holes on the high, grassy hills, or
+threw down the pick in their "overland tunnels," or deep shafts and
+rabbitlike burrows, and came to camp to buy provisions, to get their
+mail, and to look upon, if not to share, the vice and tumult of the
+<a class="pagenum" title="234" name="page_234" id="page_234"></a>
+town.</p>
+
+<p>The streets were filled from curb to curb with thousands of men in
+mud-stained coats and stout-laced boots. They stood in the gutters and
+in the middle of the street to talk (in subdued voices) of their claims.
+There was little noise. The slowly-moving streams of shoppers or
+amusement seekers gave out no sudden shouting. A deep murmur filled the
+air, but no angry curse was heard, no whooping. In a land where the
+revolver is readier than the fist men are wary of quarrel, careful of
+abuse, and studiously regardful of others.</p>
+
+<p>There were those who sought vice, and it was easily found. The saloons
+were packed with thirsty souls, and from every third door issued the
+click of dice and whiz of whirling balls in games of chance.</p>
+
+<p>Every hotel barroom swarmed with persuasive salesmen bearing lumps of
+ore with which to entice unwary capital. All the talk was of
+"pay-streaks," "leads," "float," "whins," and "up-raises," while in the
+midst of it, battling to save souls, the zealous Salvation Army band
+paraded to and fro with frenzied beating of drums. Around and through
+all this, listening with confused ears, gazing with wide, solemn eyes,
+were hundreds of young men from the middle East, farmers'<a class="pagenum" title="235" name="page_235" id="page_235"></a> sons, cowboys,
+mountaineers, and miners. To them it was an awesome city, this lurid
+camp, a wonder and an allurement to dissipation.</p>
+
+<p>To Mose, fresh from the long trail, it was irritating and wearying. He
+stood at the door of a saloon, superbly unconscious of his physical
+beauty, a somber dream in his eyes, a statuesque quality in his pose. He
+wore the wide hat of the West, but his neat, dark coat, though badly
+wrinkled, was well cut, and his crimson tie and dark blue shirt were
+handsomely decorative. His face was older, sterner, and sadder than
+when he faced Mary three years before. No trace of boyhood was in his
+manner. Seven years of life on the long trail and among the mountain
+peaks had taught him silence, self-restraint, and had also deepened his
+native melancholy. He had ridden into Wagon Wheel from the West, eager
+to see the great mining camp whose fame had filled the world.</p>
+
+<p>As he stood so, with the light of the setting sun in his face, the
+melancholy of a tiger in his eyes, a woman in an open barouche rode by.
+Her roving glance lighted upon his figure and rested there. "Wait!" she
+called to her driver, and from the shadow of her silken parasol she
+studied the young man's absorbed and motionless figure. He on his part
+perceived only a handsomely dressed woman looking out over the crowd.
+The carriage interested him more than the woman. It was a magnificent
+vehicle, the finest he had ever seen, and he wondered how it happened to
+be there on the mountain top.</p>
+
+<p>A small man with a large head stepped from the crowd and greeted the
+woman with a military salute. In answer to a question, the small man
+turned and glanced toward Mose. The woman bowed and drove on, and Mose
+walked slowly up the street, lonely a<a class="pagenum" title="236" name="page_236" id="page_236"></a>nd irresolute. At the door of a
+gambling house he halted and looked in. A young lad and an old man were
+seated together at a roulette table, and around them a ring of excited
+and amused spectators stood. Mose entered and took a place in the
+circle. The boy wore a look of excitement quite painful to see, and he
+placed his red and white chips with nervous, blundering, and ineffectual
+gestures, whereas the older man smiled benignly over his glasses and
+placed his single dollar chip each time with humorous decision. Each
+time he won. "This is for a new hat," he said, and the next time, "This
+is for a box at the theater." The boy, with his gains in the circle of
+his left arm, was desperately absorbed. No smile, no jest was possible
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>Mose felt a hand on his shoulder, and turning, found himself face to
+face with the small man who had touched his hat to the woman in the
+carriage. The stranger's countenance was stern in its outlines, and his
+military cut of beard added to his grimness, but his eyes were
+surrounded by fine lines of good humour.</p>
+
+<p>"Stranger, I'd like a word with you."</p>
+
+<p>Mose followed him to a corner, supposing him to be a man with mines to
+sell, or possibly a co<a class="pagenum" title="237" name="page_237" id="page_237"></a>nfidence man.</p>
+
+<p>"Stranger, where you from?"</p>
+
+<p>"From the Snake country," replied Mose.</p>
+
+<p>"What's your little game here?"</p>
+
+<p>Mose was angered at his tone. "None of your business."</p>
+
+<p>The older man flushed, and the laugh went out of his eyes. "I'll make it
+my business," he said grimly. "I've seen you somewhere before, but I
+can't place you. You want to get out o' town to-night; you're here for
+no man's good&mdash;you've got a 'graft.'"</p>
+
+<p>Mose struck him with the flat of his left hand, and, swift as a
+rattlesnake's stroke, covered him with his revolver. "Wait right where
+you are," he said, and the man became rigid. "I came here as peaceable
+as any man," Mose went on, "but I don't intend to be ridden out of town
+by a jackass like you."</p>
+
+<p>The other man remained calm.<a class="pagenum" title="238" name="page_238" id="page_238"></a> "If you'll kindly let me unbutton my coat,
+I'll show you my star; I'm the city marshal."</p>
+
+<p>"Be quiet," commanded Mose; "put up your hands!"</p>
+
+<p>Mose was aware of an outcry, then a silence, then a rush.</p>
+
+<p>From beneath his coat, quick as a flash of light from a mirror, he drew
+a second revolver. His eyes flashed around the room. For a moment all
+was silent, then a voice called, "What's all this, Haney?"</p>
+
+<p>"Keep them quiet," said Mose, still menacing the officer.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys, keep back," pleaded the marshal.</p>
+
+<p>"The man that starts this ball rolling will be sorry," said Mose,
+searching the crowd with sinister eyes. "If you're the marshal, order
+these men back to the other end of the room."</p>
+
+<p>"Boys, get back," commanded the marshal. With shuffling feet the crowd
+retreated. "Shut the door, somebody, and keep the crowd out."</p>
+
+<p>The doors were shut, and the room became as silent as a tomb.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said Mose, "is it war or peace?"</p>
+
+<p>"Peace," said the marshal.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="239" name="page_239" id="page_239"></a></p>
+<p>"All right." Mose dropped the point of his revolver.</p>
+
+<p>The marshal breathed easier. "Stranger, you're a little the swiftest man
+I've met since harvest; would you mind telling me your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit. My friends call me Mose Harding."</p>
+
+<p>"'Black Mose'!" exclaimed the marshal, and a mutter of low words and a
+laugh broke from the listening crowd. Haney reached out his hand. "I
+hope you won't lay it up against me." Mose shook his hand and the
+marshal went on: "To tell the honest truth, I thought you were one of
+Lightfoot's gang. I couldn't place you. Of course I see now&mdash;I have your
+picture at the office&mdash;the drinks are on me." He turned with a smile to
+the crowd: "Come, boys&mdash;irrigate and get done with it. It's a horse on
+me, sure."</p>
+
+<p>Taking the mildest liquor at the bar, Mose drank to further friendly
+relations, while the marshal continued to apologize. "You see, we've
+been overrun with 'rollers' and 'skin-game' men, and lately three
+expresses have been held up by Lightfoot's gang, and so I've been facing
+up every suspicious immigrant. I've had to do it&mdash;in your case I was too
+brash&mdash;I'll admit that&mdash;but come, let's get away from the mob. Come over
+to my office, I want to talk with you."</p>
+
+<p>Mose was glad to escape the curious eyes of the throng. While his life
+was in the balance, he saw and heard everything hostile, <a class="pagenum" title="240" name="page_240" id="page_240"></a>nothing
+more&mdash;now, he perceived the crowd to be disgustingly inquisitive. Their
+winks, and grins, and muttered words annoyed him.</p>
+
+<p>"Open the door&mdash;much obliged, Kelly," said the marshal to the man who
+kept the door. Kelly was a powerfully built man, dressed like a miner,
+in broad hat, loose gray shirt, and laced boots, and Mose admiringly
+studied him.</p>
+
+<p>"This is not 'Rocky Mountain Kelly'?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Kelly smiled. "The same; 'Old Man Kelly' they call me now."</p>
+
+<p>Mose put out his hand. "I'm glad to know ye. I've heard Tom Gavin speak
+of you."</p>
+
+<p>Kelly shook heartily. "Oh! do ye know Tom? He's a rare lump of a b'y, is
+Tom. We've seen great times together on the plains and on the hills.
+It's all gone now. It's tame as a garden since the buffalo went; they've
+made it another world, b'y."</p>
+
+<p>"Come along, Kelly, and we'll have it out at my office."</p>
+
+<p>As the three went out into the street they confronted a close-packed
+throng. The word had passed along that the marshal was being "done," and
+now, singularly silent, the miners waited the opening of the door.</p>
+
+<p>The marshal called from the doorstep: "It's all right. Don't block the
+street. Break away, boys, break away." The crowd opened to let them
+pass, fixing curious eyes upon Mose.<a class="pagenum" title="241" name="page_241" id="page_241"></a></p>
+
+<p>As the three men crossed the street the woman in the carriage came
+driving slowly along. Kelly and the marshal saluted gallantly, but Mose
+did not even bow.</p>
+
+<p>She leaned from her carriage and called:</p>
+
+<p>"What's that I hear, marshal, about your getting shot?"</p>
+
+<p>"All a mistake, Madam. I thought I recognized this young man and was
+politely ordering him out of town when he pulled his gun and nailed me
+to the cross."</p>
+
+<p>The woman turned a smiling face toward Mose. "He must be a wonder.
+Introduce me, please."</p>
+
+<p>"Certain sure! This is Mrs. Raimon, Mose; 'Princess Raimon,' this is my
+friend, Mose Harding, otherwise known as 'Black Mose.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Black Mose!" she cried; "are <i>you</i> that terrible man?"</p>
+
+<p>She reached out her little gloved hand, and as Mose took it her eyes
+searched his face. "I think we are going to be friends." Her voice was
+affectedly musical as she added: "Come and see me, won't yo<a class="pagenum" title="242" name="page_242" id="page_242"></a>u?"</p>
+
+<p>She did not wait for his reply, but drove on with a sudden assumption of
+reserve which became her very well.</p>
+
+<p>The three men walked on in silence. At last, with a curious look at
+Kelly, the marshal said, "Young man, you're in luck. Anything you want
+in town is yours now. How about it, Kelly?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's the thrue word of it."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" asked Mose.</p>
+
+<p>"Just this&mdash;what the princess asks for she generally gets. She's taken a
+fancy to you, and if you're keen as I think you are, you'll call on her
+without much delay."</p>
+
+<p>"Who is she? How does she happen to be here?"</p>
+
+<p>"She came out here with her husband&mdash;and stays for love of men and
+mines, I reckon. Anyhow, she always has a man hangin' on, and has
+managed to secure some of the best mines in the camp. She works 'em,
+too. She's a pretty high roller, as they call 'em back in the States,
+but she helps the poor, and pays her debts like a man, and it's no call
+o' mine to pass judgment on her."</p>
+
+<p>The marshal's office was an old log shanty, one of the first to be built
+on the trail, and passing through the big front room in which two or
+three men were lounging, the marshal led his guests to his inner office
+and sleeping room<a class="pagenum" title="243" name="page_243" id="page_243"></a>. A fire was blazing in a big stone fireplace. Skins
+and dingy blankets were scattered about, and on the mantle stood a
+bottle and some dirty glasses.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down, gentlemen," said the marshal, "and have some liquor."</p>
+
+<p>After they were served and cigars lighted, the marshal began:</p>
+
+<p>"Mose, I want you to serve as my deputy."</p>
+
+<p>Mose was taken by surprise and did not speak for a few moments. The
+marshal went on:</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know that you're after a job, but I'm sure I need you. There's
+no use hemming and hawing&mdash;I've made a cussed fool of myself this
+evenin', and the boys are just about going to drink up my salary for me
+this coming week. I can't afford <i>not</i> to have you my deputy because you
+unlimbered your gun a grain of a second before me&mdash;beat me at my own
+trick. I need you&mdash;now what do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>Mose took time to reply. "I sure need a job for the winter," he
+admitted, "but I don't believe I want to do this."</p>
+
+<p>The marshal urged him to accept. "I'll call in the newspaper men and let
+them tell the whole story of your life, and of our little jamboree
+to-day&mdash;they'll fix up a yarn that'll paralyze the hold-up gang.
+Together we'll swoop down on the town. I've been planning a clean-out
+for some weeks, and I need you to help me turn 'em loose."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="244" name="page_244" id="page_244"></a></p>
+<p>Mose arose. "I guess not; I'm trying to keep clear of gun-play these
+days. I've never hunted that kind of thing, and I won't start in on a
+game that's sure to give me trouble."</p>
+
+<p>The marshal argued. "Set down; listen; that's the point exactly. The
+minute the boys know who you are we won't <i>need</i> to shoot. That's the
+reason I want you&mdash;the reporters will prepare the way. Wherever we go
+the 'bad men' will scatter."</p>
+
+<p>But Mose was inexorable. "No, I can't do it. I took just such a job
+once&mdash;I don't want another."</p>
+
+<p>Haney was deeply disappointed, but shook hands pleasantly. "Well,
+good-night; drop in any time."</p>
+
+<p>Mose went out into the street once more. He was hungry, and so turned in
+at the principal hotel in the city for a "good square meal." An Italian
+playing the violin and his boy accompanying him on the harp, made up a
+little orchestra. Some palms in pots, six mirrors set between the
+windows, together with tall, very new, oak chairs gave the dining room a
+magnificence which abashed the bold heart of the trailer for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>However, his was not a nature to show timidity, and taking a seat he
+calmly spread his damp napkin on his knee and gave his order to the
+colored waiter (the Palace Hotel had the only two colored waiters in
+Wagon Wheel) with such grace as he could command after long years upon
+the trail.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="245" name="page_245" id="page_245"></a></p>
+<p>As he lifted his eyes he became aware of "the princess" seated at
+another table and facing him. She seemed older than when he saw her in
+the carriage. Her face was high-colored, and her hair a red-brown. Her
+eyes were half closed, and her mouth drooped at the corners. Her chin,
+supported on her left hand, glittering with jewels, was pushed forward
+aggressively, and she listened with indifference to the talk of her
+companion, a dark, smooth-featured man, with a bitter and menacing
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>Mose was oppressed by her glance. She seemed to be looking at him from
+the shadow as a tigress might glare from her den, and he ate awkwardly,
+and his food tasted dry and bitter. Ultimately he became angry. Why
+should this woman, or any woman, stare at him like that? He would have
+understood her better had she smiled at him&mdash;he was not without
+experience of that sort, but this unwavering glance puzzled and annoyed
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Putting her companion aside with a single gesture, the princess arose
+and came over to Mose's table and reached her hand to him. She smiled
+radiantly of a sudden, and said, "How do you do, Mr. Harding; I didn't
+recognize you at first."</p>
+
+<p>Mose took her hand but did not invite her to join him. However, she
+needed no invitation, and taking a seat <a class="pagenum" title="246" name="page_246" id="page_246"></a>opposite, leaned her elbows on
+the table and looked at him with eyes more inscrutable than
+ever&mdash;despite their nearness. They were a mottled yellow and brown, he
+noticed, unusual and interesting eyes, but by contrast with the clear
+deeps of Mary's eyes they seemed like those of some beautiful wild
+beast. He could not penetrate a thousandth part of a hair line beyond
+the exterior shine of her glance. The woman's soul was in the
+unfathomable shadow beneath.</p>
+
+<p>"I know all about you," she said. "I read a long article about you in
+the papers some months ago. You stood off a lot of bogus game wardens
+who were going to butcher some Shoshonees. I liked that. The article
+said you killed a couple of them. I hope you did."</p>
+
+<p>Mose was very short. "I don't think any of them died at my hands, but
+they deserved it, sure enough."</p>
+
+<p>She smiled again. "After seeing you on the street, I went home and
+looked up that slip&mdash;I saved it, you see. I've wanted to see you for a
+long time. You've had a wonderful life for one so young. This article
+raked up a whole lot of stuff about you&mdash;said you were the son of a
+preacher&mdash;is that so?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that part of it was true."<a class="pagenum" title="247" name="page_247" id="page_247"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Same old story, isn't it? I'm the daughter of a college
+professor&mdash;sectarian college at that." She smiled a moment, then became
+as suddenly grave. "I like men. I like men who face danger and think
+nothing of it. The article said you came West when a mere boy and got
+mixed up in some funny business on the plains and had to take a sneak to
+the mountains. What have you been doing since? I wish you'd tell me the
+whole story. Come to my house; it's just around the corner."</p>
+
+<p>As she talked, her voice became more subtly pleasing, and the lines of
+her mouth took on a touch of girlish grace.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't time to do that," Mose said, "and besides, my story don't
+amount to much. You don't want to believe all they say of me. I've just
+knocked around a little like a thousand other fellows, that's all. I
+pull out to-night. I'm looking up an old friend down here on a ranch."</p>
+
+<p>She saw her mistake. "All right," she said, and smiled radiantly. "But
+come some other time, won't you?" She was so winning, so frank and
+kindly that Mose experienced a sudden revulsion of feeling. A powerful
+charm came from her superb physique, her radiant color, and from her
+beautiful, flexile lips and sound white teeth. He hesitated, and she
+pressed her advantage.<a class="pagenum" title="248" name="page_248" id="page_248"></a></p>
+
+<p>"You needn't be afraid of me. The boys often drop in to see me of an
+evening. If I can be of any use to you, let me know. I'll tell you what
+you do. You take supper with me here to-morrow night. What say?"</p>
+
+<p>Mose looked across at the scowling face of the woman's companion and
+said hesitatingly:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll see. If I have time&mdash;maybe I will."</p>
+
+<p>She smiled again and impulsively reached her hand to him, and as he took
+it he was nearly won by her friendliness. This she did not know, and he
+was able to go out into the street alone. He could not but observe that
+the attendants treated him with added respect by reason of his
+acquaintance with the wealthiest and most powerful woman in the camp.
+She had made his loneliness very keen and hard to bear.</p>
+
+<p>As he walked down the street he thought of Mary&mdash;she seemed to be a
+sister to the distant, calm and glorious moon just launching into the
+sky above the serrate wall of snowy peaks to the East. There was a
+powerful appeal in the vivid and changeful woman he had just met, for
+her like had never touched his life before.</p>
+
+<p>As he climbed back up the hill toward the corral where he had left his
+horse, he was filled with a wordless disgust of the town and its people.
+The night was still and <a class="pagenum" title="249" name="page_249" id="page_249"></a>cool, almost frosty. The air so clear and so
+rare filled his lungs with wholesomely sweet and reanimating breath. His
+head cleared, and his heart grew regular in its beating. The moon was
+sailing in mid-ocean, between the Great Divide and the Christo Range,
+cold and sharp of outline as a boat of silver. Lizard Head to the south
+loomed up ethereal as a cloud, so high it seemed to crash among the
+stars. The youth drew a deep breath and said: "To hell with the town."</p>
+
+<p>Kintuck whinnied caressingly as he heard his master's voice. After
+putting some grain before the horse, Mose rolled himself in his blanket
+and went to sleep with only a passing thought of the princess, her
+luxurious home, and her radiant and inscrutable personality.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="250" name="page_250" id="page_250"></a>
+<a name="AGAIN_ON_THE_ROUND-UP" id="AGAIN_ON_THE_ROUND-UP"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+<h3>AGAIN ON THE ROUND-UP</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was good to hear again the bawling of the bulls and the shouts of the
+cowboys, and to see the swirling herd and the flying, guarding, checking
+horsemen. Mose, wearied, weather-beaten, and somber-visaged, looked down
+upon the scene with musing eyes. The action was quite like that on the
+Arickaree; the setting alone was different. Here the valley was a wide,
+deliciously green bowl, with knobby hills, pine-covered and abrupt,
+rising on all sides. Farther back great snow-covered peaks rose to
+enormous heights. In the center of this superb basin the camps were
+pitched, and the roping and branding went on like the action of a
+prodigious drama. The sun, setting in orange-colored clouds, brought out
+the velvet green of the sward with marvelous radiance. The tents gleamed
+in the midst of the valley like flakes of pearl.</p>
+
+<p>The heart of the wanderer warmed within him, and with a feeling that he
+was almost home he called to his pack horse "Hy-ak-boy!" and started
+down the hill. As he drew near the herd he noted the great changes which
+had come over the cattle. They were now nearly all grades of Hereford or
+Holstein. They were larger of body, heavier of limb, and less active
+than the range cattle of the plains, but were sufficiently speedy to
+make handling them a fine art.</p>
+
+<p>As he drew near the camp a musical shout arose, and Reynolds spurred his
+horse out to meet him. "It's Mose!" he shouted. "Boy, I'm glad to see
+ye, I certainly am. Shake hearty. Where ye from?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Wind River."</p>
+
+<p>"What have you been doing up there?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, knocking around with some Shoshones on a hunting trip."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, by mighty, I certainly am glad to see ye. You look thin as a
+spring steer."<a class="pagenum" title="251" name="page_251" id="page_251"></a></p>
+
+<p>"My looks don't deceive me then. My two sides are rubbin' together. How
+are the folks?"</p>
+
+<p>"They ah very well, thank you. Cora and Pink will certainly go plumb
+crazy when they see you a-comin'."</p>
+
+<p>"Where's your house?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just over that divide&mdash;but slip your packs off. Old Kintuck looks well;
+I knew him when you topped the hill."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he's still with me, and considerable of a horse yet."</p>
+
+<p>They drew up to the door of one of the main tents and slipped the
+saddles from the weary horses.</p>
+
+<p>"Do ye hobble?"</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;they stay with me," said Mose, slapping Kintuck. "Go on, boy,
+here's grass worth while for ye."</p>
+
+<p>"By mighty, Mose!" said Reynolds, looking at the trailer tenderly, "it
+certainly is go<a class="pagenum" title="252" name="page_252" id="page_252"></a>od for sore eyes to see ye. I didn't know but you'd got
+mixed up an' done for in some of them squabbles. I heard the State
+authorities had gone out to round up that band of reds you was with."</p>
+
+<p>"We did have one brush with the sheriff and some game wardens, but I
+stood him off while my friends made tracks for the reservation. The
+sheriff was for fight, but I argued him out of it. It looked like hot
+weather for a while."</p>
+
+<p>While they were talking the cook set up a couple of precarious benches
+and laid a wide board thereon. Mose remarked it.</p>
+
+<p>"A table! Seems to me that's a little hifalutin'."</p>
+
+<p>"So it is, but times are changing."</p>
+
+<p>"I reckon the range on the Arickaree is about wiped out."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. We had a couple of years with rain a-plenty, and that brought a
+boom in settlement; everything along the river was homesteaded, and so I
+retreated&mdash;the range was overstocked anyhow. This time I climbed high. I
+reckon I'm all right now while I live. They can't raise co'n in this
+high country, and not much of anything but grass. They won't bother us
+no mo'. It's a good cattle country, but a mighty tough range to ride, as
+you'll find. I thought I knew what rough riding was, but when it comes
+to racin' over these granite knobs, I'm jest a little too old. I'm
+getting heavy, too, you notice."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Grub-pile! All down for grub!</i>" yelled the cook, and the boys came
+trooping in. They were all strangers,<a class="pagenum" title="253" name="page_253" id="page_253"></a> but not strange to Mose. They
+conformed to types he already knew. Some were young lads, and the word
+having passed around that "Black Mose" was in camp, they approached with
+awe. The man whose sinister fame had spread throughout three States was
+a very great personage to them.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you come by way of Wagon Wheel?" inquired a tall youth whom the
+others called "Brindle Bill."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; camped there one night."</p>
+
+<p>"Ain't it a caution to yaller snakes? Must be nigh onto fifteen thousand
+people there now. The hills is plumb measly with prospect holes, and
+you can't look at a rock f'r less'n a thousand dollars. It shore is the
+craziest town that ever went anywhere."</p>
+
+<p>"Bill's got the fever," said another. "He just about wears hisself out
+a-pickin' up and a-totein' 'round likely lookin' rocks. Seems like he
+was lookin' fer gold mines 'stid o' cattle most of the time."</p>
+
+<p>"You're just in time for the turnament, Mose."</p>
+
+<p>"For the how-many?"</p>
+
+<p>"The turnament and bullfight. Joe Grassie has been gettin' up a
+bullfight and a kind of a show. He 'lows to bring up some regular
+fighters from Mexico and have a real, sure-'nough bullfight. Then he's
+offered a prize of fifty dollars for the best roper, and fifty dollars
+for the best shooter."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="254" name="page_254" id="page_254"></a></p>
+<p>"I didn't happen to hear of it, but I'm due to take that fifty; I need
+it," said Mose.</p>
+
+<p>"He 'lows to have some races&mdash;pony races and broncho busting."</p>
+
+<p>"When does it come off?" asked Mose with interest.</p>
+
+<p>"On the fourth."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be there."</p>
+
+<p>After supper was over Reynolds said: "Are you too tired to ride over to
+the ranch?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no! I'm all right now."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll just naturally throw the saddles on a couple of bronchos and
+we'll go see the folks."</p>
+
+<p>Mose felt a warm glow around his heart as he trotted away beside
+Reynolds across the smooth sod. His affection for the Reynolds family
+was scarcely second to his boyish love for Mr. and Mrs. Burns.</p>
+
+<p>It was dark before they came in sight of the light in the narrow valley
+of the Mink. "There's the camp," said Reynolds. "No, I didn't bu<a class="pagenum" title="255" name="page_255" id="page_255"></a>ild it;
+it's an old ranch; in fact, I bought the whole outfit."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Reynolds had not changed at all in the three years, but Cora had
+grown handsomer and seemed much less timid, though she blushed vividly
+as Mose shook her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad to see you back," she said.</p>
+
+<p>Moved by an unusual emotion, Mose replied: "You haven't pined away any."</p>
+
+<p>"Pined!" exclaimed her mother. "Well, I should say not. You should see
+her when Jim Haynes&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Mother!" called the girl sharply, and Pink, now a beautiful child of
+eight, came opportunely into the room and drew the conversation to
+herself.</p>
+
+<p>As Mose, with Pink at his knee, sat watching the two women moving about
+the table, a half-formed resolution arose in his brain. He was weary of
+wandering, weary of loneliness. This comfortable, homely room, this
+tender little form in his arms, made an appeal to him which was as
+powerful as it was unexpected. He had lived so long in his blanket, with
+only Kintuck for company, that at this moment it seemed as if these were
+the best things to do&mdash;to stay with Reynolds, to make Cora happy, and to
+rest. He had seen all phases of wild life and had carried out his plans
+to see the wonders of America. He had crossed the Painted Desert and
+camped beside the Colorado in the greatest ca&ntilde;on in the world. He had
+watched the Mokis while they danced with live rattlesnakes held between
+their lips. He had explored the cliff-dwellings of the Navajo country
+and had looked upon the sea of peaks which tumbles away in measureless
+majesty from Uncompahgre's eagle-crested dome. He had peered into the
+boiling springs of the Yello<a class="pagenum" title="256" name="page_256" id="page_256"></a>wstone, and had lifted his eyes to the white
+Tetons whose feet are set in a mystic lake, around which the loons laugh
+all the summer long. He knew the chiefs of a dozen tribes and was a
+welcome guest among them. In his own mind he was no longer young&mdash;his
+youth was passing, perhaps the time had come to settle down.</p>
+
+<p>Cora turned suddenly from the table, where she stood arranging the
+plates and knives and forks with a pleasant bustle, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"O Mose! we've got two or three letters for you. We've had 'em ever so
+long&mdash;I don't suppose they will be of much good to you now. I'll get
+them for you."</p>
+
+<p>"They look old," he said as he took them from her hand. "They look as if
+they'd been through the war." The first was from his father, the second
+from Jack, and the third in a woman's hand&mdash;could only be Mary's. He
+stared at it&mdash;almost afraid to open it in the presence of the family. He
+read the one from his father first, because he conceived it less
+important, and because he feared the other.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>"MY DEAR SON: I am writing to you through Jack, although he
+does not feel sure we can reach you. I want to let you know
+of the death of Mrs. Excell. She died very suddenly of acute
+pneumonia. She was always careless of her footwear and went
+out in the snow to hang out some linen without her rubber
+shoes. We did everything that could be done but she only
+lived six days after the exposure. Life is very hard for me
+now. I write also to say that as I am now alone and in bad
+health I shall accept a call to Sweetwater Springs, Colorado,
+<a class="pagenum" title="257" name="page_257" id="page_257"></a>for
+two reasons. One is that my health may be regained, and
+for the reason, also, my dear son, that I may be nearer
+you. If this reaches you and you can come to see me I hope
+you will do so.&nbsp; I am lonely now and I long for you. The
+parish is small and the pay meager, but that will not matter
+if I can see you occasionally.&nbsp; Maud and her little family
+are well. I go to my new church in April.</p>
+
+<p style="text-align:right; margin-right:10%;">&#34;Your father,</p>
+<p style="text-align:right; margin-top: -0.75em;">&#34;SAMUEL EXCELL&#34;.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>For a moment this letter made Mose feel his father's loneliness, and had
+he not held in his hand two other and more important letters he would
+have replied with greater tenderness than ever before in his life.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Mose, set up," said Mrs. Reynolds; "letters'll keep."</p>
+
+<p>He was distracted all through the meal in spite of the incessant
+questioning of his good friends. They were determined to uncover every
+act of his long years of wandering.<a class="pagenum" title="258" name="page_258" id="page_258"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he said, "I've been hungry and cold, but I always looked after my
+horse, and so, when I struck a cow country I could whirl in and earn
+some money. It don't take much to keep me when I'm on the trail."</p>
+
+<p>"What's the good of seein' so much?" asked Mrs. Reynolds.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled a slow, musing smile. "Oh, I don't know. The more you see the
+more you want to see. Just now I feel like taking a little rest."</p>
+
+<p>Cora smiled at him. "I wish you would. You look like a starved cat&mdash;you
+ought'o let us feed you up for a while."</p>
+
+<p>"Spoil me for the trail," he said, but his eyes conveyed a message of
+gratitude for her sympathy, and she flushed again.</p>
+
+<p>After supper Mrs. Reynolds said: "Now if you want to read your letters
+by yourself, you can." She opened a door and he looked in.</p>
+
+<p>"A bed! I haven't slept in a bed for two years."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it won't kill ye, not for one night, I reckon," she said.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="259" name="page_259" id="page_259"></a></p>
+<p>He looked around the little room, at the dainty lace curtains tied with
+little bows of ribbon, at the pictures and lambrequins, and it filled
+his heart with a sudden stress of longing. It made him remember the
+pretty parlor in which Mary had received him four years before, and he
+opened her letter with a tremor in his hands. It was dated the Christmas
+day of the year of his visit; it was more than three years belated, but
+he read it as if it were written the day before, and it moved him quite
+as powerfully.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>"MY DEAR FRIEND: The impulse to write to you has grown
+stronger day by day since you left. Your wonderful life and
+your words appealed to my imagination with such power that I
+have been unable to put them out of my mind. Without
+intending to do so you have filled me with a great desire to
+see the West which is able to make you forget your family and
+friends and calls you on long journeys. I have sung for you
+every Sunday as I promised to do. Your friend Jack called to
+see me last night and we had a long talk about you.&nbsp; He is to
+write you also and gave me your probable address. You said
+you were not a good writer but I wish you would let me know
+where you are and what you are doing, for I feel a deep
+interest in you, although I can not make myself believe that
+you are not the Harold Excell I saw in Rock River. In reality
+you are not he, any more than I am the little prig who sang
+those songs to save your soul!&nbsp; However, I was not so bad as
+I seemed even then, for I wanted you to admire my voice.</p>
+
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="260" name="page_260" id="page_260"></a>
+"I hope this Christmas day finds you in a warm and sheltered
+place.&nbsp; It would be a great comfort to me if I could know you
+were not cold and hungry. Jack brought me a beautiful
+present&mdash;a set of George Eliot. I ought not to have accepted
+it but he seemed so sure it would please me I had not the
+heart to refuse. I would send something to you only I can't
+feel sure of reaching you, and neither does Jack.</p>
+
+<p>"It may be of interest to you to know that Mr. King the
+pastor, in whose church I sang, has resigned his pastorate to
+go abroad for a year. His successor is a man with a family&mdash;I
+don't see how he will manage to live on the salary. Mr. King
+had independent means and was a bachelor."</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Right there the youth stopped. Something told him that he had reached
+the heart of the woman's message. King had resigned to go abroad. Why?
+The tone of the letter was studiedly cold. Why? There were a few more
+lines to say that Jack was coming in to eat Christmas dinner with her
+and that she would sing If I Were a Voice. He was not super-subtle and
+yet something in this letter made his throat fill and his head a little
+<i>dizzy</i>. If it did not mean that she had broken with King, then truth
+could not be conveyed in lines of black ink.</p>
+
+<p>He tore open Jack's letter. It was short and to the point.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="261" name="page_261" id="page_261"></a>
+"DEAR HARRY: If you can get away come back to Marmion and see
+Mary again. She wants to see you <i>bad</i>. I don't know what has
+happened but I <i>think</i> she has given King his walking
+papers&mdash;and all on account of you. <i>I know it.</i> It can't be
+anybody else. She talked of you the entire evening. O man!
+but she was beautiful. She sang for me but her mind was away
+in the mountains. I could see that. It was her interest in
+you made her so nice to me. Now that's the God's truth. Come
+back and get her.</p>
+
+<p style="text-align:right; margin-right:10%;">&#34;Yours in haste,</p>
+<p style="text-align:right; margin-top: -0.75em;">&#34;JACK&#34;.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mose tingled with the sudden joy of it. Jack's letter, so unlike his
+usual calm, was convincing. He sprang up, a smile on his face, his eyes
+shining with happiness, his blood surging through his heart, and then he
+remembered the letters were three years old! The gray cloud settled down
+upon him&mdash;his limbs grew cold, and the light went out of his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Three years! While he was camping in the Grand Ca&ntilde;on with the lizards
+and skunks she was waiting to hear from him. While he sat in the shade
+of the walls of Walpi, surrounded by hungry dogs and pot-bellied
+children, she was singing for him and wondering whether her letter had
+ever <a class="pagenum" title="262" name="page_262" id="page_262"></a>reached him. Three years! A thousand things could happen in three
+years. She may have died!&mdash;a cold shudder touched him&mdash;she might tire of
+waiting and marry some one else&mdash;or she might have gone away to the
+East, that unknown and dangerous jungle of cities.</p>
+
+<p>He sprang up again. "I will go to see her!" he said to himself. Then he
+remembered. His horse was worn, he had no money and no suitable
+clothing. Then he thought: "I will write." It did not occur to him to
+telegraph, for he had never done such a thing in his life.</p>
+
+<p>He walked out into the sitting-room, his letters in his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"How far do you call it to Wagon Wheel?"</p>
+
+<p>"About thirty miles, and all up hill."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you loan me one of your bronchos?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certain sure, my boy."</p>
+
+<p>"I want to ride up there and send a couple of letters."</p>
+
+<p>"Better wait till morning," said Reynolds. "Your letters have waited
+three years&mdash;I reckon they'll keep over night."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="263" name="page_263" id="page_263"></a></p>
+<p>"That's so," said Mose with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>Sleep came to him swiftly, in spite of his letters, for he was very
+tired, but he found the room close and oppressive when he arose in the
+morning. The women were already preparing breakfast and Reynolds sat by
+the fire pulling on his boots.</p>
+
+<p>As they were walking out to the barn Reynolds plucked him by the sleeve
+and said:</p>
+
+<p>"I reckon I've lost my chance to kill Craig."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"A Mexican took the job off my hands." His face expressed a sort of
+gloomy dissatisfaction. Then without looking at Mose he went on: "That's
+one reason daughter looks so pert. She's free of that skunk's clutches
+now&mdash;and can hold up her head. She's free to marry a decent man."</p>
+
+<p>Mose was silent. Mary's letter had thrust itself between his lips and
+Cora's shapely head, and all thought of marriage with her was gone.</p>
+
+<p>As they galloped up to the camp the boys were at work finishing the last
+bunch of calves. The camp wagon was packed and ready to start across the
+divide, but the cook f<a class="pagenum" title="264" name="page_264" id="page_264"></a>lourished a newspaper and came running up.</p>
+
+<p>"Here you are, posted like a circus."</p>
+
+<p>Mose took the paper, and on the front page read in big letters:</p>
+
+<p style="text-align: center">BLACK MOSE!<br />
+Mysterious as Ever.<br />
+The Celebrated Dead Shot.<br />
+Visits Wagon Wheel, and Swiftly Disappears.</p>
+
+<p>"Damn 'em!" said Mose, "can't they let me alone? Seems like they can't
+rest till they crowd me into trouble."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="265" name="page_265" id="page_265"></a>
+<a name="MOSE_RETURNS_TO_WAGON_WHEEL" id="MOSE_RETURNS_TO_WAGON_WHEEL"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+<h3>MOSE RETURNS TO WAGON WHEEL</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>As Mose threw the rope over the bald-faced pinto the boys all chuckled
+and drew near, for they knew the character of the horse. Reynolds had
+said, "Take your pick o' the bunch," and Mose, with the eye of a
+horseman, had roped the pinto because of his size, depth of chest, and
+splendid limbs.</p>
+
+<p>As he was leading his captive out of the bunch the cook said to Mose,
+"Better not take that pinto; he's mean as a hornet."</p>
+
+<p>"Is his wind all right?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's one o' the best horses on the range, all right, but he shore is
+mean all the way through. He always pitches at the start like he was
+fair crazy."</p>
+
+<p>"Does he go when he gets through?" asked Mose of Reynolds.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he's a good traveler."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to be delayed, that's all. If he'll go, I'll stay by him."</p>
+
+<p>The boys nudged elbows while Mose threw the saddle on the cringing
+<a class="pagenum" title="266" name="page_266" id="page_266"></a>
+brute and cinched it till the pinto, full of suffering, drew great,
+quiet gulps of breath and groaned. Swift, practiced, relentless, Mose
+dragged at the latigo till the wide hair web embedded itself in the
+pony's hide. Having coiled the rope neatly out of the way, while the
+broncho stood with drooping head but with a dull red flame in his eyes,
+Mose flung the rein over the pony's head. Then pinto woke up. With a
+mighty sidewise bound he attempted to leave his rider, but Mose,
+studiedly imperturbable, with left hand holding the reins and right hand
+grasping the pommel, went with him as if that were the ordinary way of
+mounting. Immense power was in the stiff-legged leaping of the beast.
+His body seemed a ball of coiled steel springs. His "watch-eye" rolled
+in frenzy. It seemed he wished to beat his head against his rider's face
+and kill him. He rushed away with a rearing, jerking motion, in a series
+of jarring bounds, snapping his rider like the lash of a whip, then
+stopped suddenly, poised on his fore feet, with devilish intent to
+discharge Mose over his head. With the spurs set deep into the quivering
+painted hide of his mount Mose began plying the quirt like a flail. The
+boys cheered and yelled with delight. <a class="pagenum" title="267" name="page_267" id="page_267"></a>It was one of their chief
+recreations, this battle with a pitching broncho.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the desperate beast paused and, rearing recklessly high in the
+air, fell backward hoping to crush his rider under his saddle. In the
+instant, while he towered, poised in the air, Mose shook his right foot
+free of the stirrup and swung to the left and alighted on his feet,
+while the fallen horse, stunned by his own fall, lay for an instant,
+groaning and coughing. Under the sting of the quirt, he scrambled to his
+feet only to find his inexorable rider again on his back, with merciless
+spurs set deep in the quick of his quivering sides. With a despairing
+squeal he set off in a low, swift, sidewise gallop, and for nearly an
+hour drummed along the trail, up hill and down, the foam mingling with
+the yellow dust on his heaving flanks.</p>
+
+<p>When the broncho's hot anger had cooled, Mose gave him his head, and
+fell to thinking upon the future. He had been more than eight years in
+the range and on the trail and all he owned in the world was a saddle, a
+gun, a rope, and a horse. The sight of Cora, the caressing of little
+Pink, and Mary's letter had roused in him a longing for a wife and a
+shanty of his own.</p>
+
+<p>The grass was getting sere, there was new-fallen snow on Lizard Head,
+and winter was coming. He had the animal's instinct to den up, to seek
+winter quarters. Certain ties other than those of Mary's love combined
+to draw him back to Marmion for the winter. If he could only shake off
+his burdening notoriety and go back to see her&mdash;to ask her
+advice&mdash;perhaps she could aid him. But to <i>sneak</i> back again&mdash;to crawl
+about in dark corners&mdash;that was impossible.</p>
+
+<p>He was no longer the frank and boyish lover of adventure. Life troubled
+him now, conduct was become less simple<a class="pagenum" title="268" name="page_268" id="page_268"></a>, actions each day less easily
+determined. These women now made him ponder. Cora, who was accustomed to
+the range and whose interests were his own in many ways, the princess,
+whose money and influence could get him something to do in Wagon Wheel,
+and Mary, whose very name made him shudder with remembered
+adoration&mdash;each one now made him think. Mary, of all the group, was most
+certainly unfitted to share his mode of life, and yet the thought of her
+made the others impossible to him.</p>
+
+<p>The marshal saw him ride up the street and throw himself from his horse
+before the post office and hastened toward him with his hand extended.
+"Hello! Mose, I've got a telegram for you from Sweetwater."</p>
+
+<p>Mose took it without a word and opened it. It was from his father: "Wait
+for me in Wagon Wheel. I am coming."</p>
+
+<p>The marshal was grinning. "Did you see the write-up in yesterday's
+Mother Lode?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;I saw it, and cussed you for it."<a class="pagenum" title="269" name="page_269" id="page_269"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I knowd you would, but I couldn't help it. Billy, the editor, got hold
+of me and pumped the whole story out of me before I knew it. I don't
+think it does you any harm."</p>
+
+<p>"It didn't do me any good," replied Mose shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, the princess wants to see you. She's on the street somewhere now,
+looking for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Where's the telegraph office?" he abruptly asked.</p>
+
+<p>The telegram from his father had put the idea into his head to
+communicate in that way with Mary and Jack.</p>
+
+<p>The marshal led the way to a stage office wherein stood a counter and a
+row of clicking machines.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the cost of a telegram to Marmion, Iowa?" asked Mose.</p>
+
+<p>"One dollar, ten words. Each ad&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mose thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out all his money, a
+handful of <a class="pagenum" title="270" name="page_270" id="page_270"></a>small change. His face grew bitter, his last dollar was
+broken into bits.</p>
+
+<p>"Make it night rates for sixty," said the operator. "Be delivered
+to-morrow morning."</p>
+
+<p>"Go ahead," said Mose, and set to work to compose a message. The
+marshal, with unexpected delicacy, sauntered out into the street.</p>
+
+<p>Now that he was actually face to face with the problem of answering
+Mary's letter in ten words the youth's hand refused to write, and he
+stood looking at the yellow slip of paper with an intensity that was
+comical to the clerk. Plainly this cowboy was not accustomed to
+telegraphing.</p>
+
+<p>Mose felt the waiting presence of the clerk and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Can I set down here and think it over?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why sure, take a seat at that table over there."</p>
+
+<p>Under the pressure of his emotion Mose wrote "Dear Mary" and stopped.
+The chap at the other end of the line would read that and comment on it.
+He struck tha<a class="pagenum" title="271" name="page_271" id="page_271"></a>t out. Then it occurred to him that if he signed it "Harry"
+<i>this</i> operator would marvel, and if he signed "Mose" the other end of
+the line would wonder. He rose, crushing the paper in his hand, and went
+out into the street. There was only one way&mdash;to write.</p>
+
+<p>This he did standing at the ink-bespattered shelf which served as
+writing desk in the post office.</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">"DEAR MARY: I have just received your letter. It's a little
+late but perhaps it ain't too late. Anyhow, I'm banking on
+this finding you just the same as when you wrote. I wish I
+could visit you again but I'm afraid I couldn't do it a
+second time without being recognized, but write to me at
+once, and, if you say come, I'll come. I am poorer than I was
+four years ago, but I've been on the trail, I know the
+mountains now. There's no other place for me, but I get
+lonesome sometimes when I think of you. I'm no good at
+writing letters&mdash;can't write as well as I could when I was
+twenty, so don't mind my short letter, but if I could see
+you! Write at once and I'll borrow or steal enough money to
+pay my way to you&mdash;I don't expect to ever see you out here in
+the West."</p>
+
+<p>While still pondering over his letter he heard the rustle of a woman's
+dress and turned to face the princess, in magnificent attire, her gloved
+hand extended toward him, her face radiant with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, my dear boy, where have you been?"</p>
+
+<p>Mose shook hands, his letter to Mary (still unsealed) in his left hand.
+"Been down on the range," he mumbled in profound embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>She assumed a girlish part. "But you <i>promised</i> to come and see me."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="272" name="page_272" id="page_272"></a></p>
+<p>He turned away to seal his letter and she studied him with admiring
+eyes. He was so interesting in his boyish confusion&mdash;graceful in spite
+of his irrelevant movements, for he was as supple, as properly poised,
+and as sinewy as a panther.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a great boy," she said to him when he came back. "I like you, I
+want to do something for you. Get into my carriage, and let me tell you
+of some plans."</p>
+
+<p>He looked down at his faded woolen shirt and lifted his hand to his
+greasy sombrero. "Oh, no! I can't do that."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed. "You ought to be able to stand it if I can. I'd be rather
+proud of having 'Black Mose' in my carriage."</p>
+
+<p>"I guess not," he said. There was a cadence in these three words to
+which she bowed her head. She surrendered her notion quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"Come down to the Palace with me."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, I'll do that," he replied without interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Meet me there in half an hour."</p>
+
+<p>"All right."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-by<a class="pagenum" title="273" name="page_273" id="page_273"></a> till then."</p>
+
+<p>He did not reply but took her extended hand, while the young fellow in
+the postal cage grinned with profound appreciation. After the princess
+went out this clerk said, "Pard, you've struck it rich."</p>
+
+<p>Mose turned and his eyebrows lowered dangerously. "Keep to your letter
+punchin', young feller, and you'll enjoy better health."</p>
+
+<p>Those who happened to be standing in the room held their breath, for in
+that menacing, steady glare they recognized battle.</p>
+
+<p>The clerk gasped and stammered, "I didn't mean anything."</p>
+
+<p>"That's all right. You're lately from the East, or you wouldn't get gay
+with strangers in this country. See if there is any mail for Mose
+Harding&mdash;or Harry Excell."</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry, sir&mdash;nothing for Mr. Harding, nothing for Mr. Excell."</p>
+
+<p>Mose turned back to the desk and scrawled a short letter to Jack Burns
+asking him to let him know at once where Mary was, and whether it would
+be safe for him to visit her.</p>
+
+<p>As he went out in the stree<a class="pagenum" title="274" name="page_274" id="page_274"></a>t to mount his horse the marshal met him
+again, and Mose, irritated and hungry, said sharply:</p>
+
+<p>"See here, pardner, you act most cussedly like a man keeping watch on
+me."</p>
+
+<p>The marshal hastened to say, "Nothing of the kind. I like you, that's
+all. I want to talk with you&mdash;in fact I'm under orders from the princess
+to help you get a job if you want one. I've got an offer now. The
+Express Company want you to act as guard between here and Ca&ntilde;on City.
+Pay is one hundred dollars a month, ammunition furnished."</p>
+
+<p>Mose threw out his hand. "I'll do it&mdash;take it all back."</p>
+
+<p>The marshal shook hands without resentment, considering the apology
+ample, and together they sauntered down the street.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, pardner, let me tell you how I size up the princess. She's a
+good-hearted woman as ever lived, but she's a little off color with the
+women who run the church socials here. She's a rippin' good business
+woman, and her luck beats h&mdash;l. Why last week she bought a feller's
+claim in fer ten thousand dollars and yesterday they tapped a vein of
+eighty dollar ore, runnin' three feet wide. She don't haff to live
+here&mdash;she's worth a half million dollars&mdash;but she likes mining and she
+likes men. She knows how to handle 'em too&mdash;as you'll find out. She's
+hail-fellow with us all&mdash;but I tell ye she's got to like a feller all
+through before he sees the inside of her parlor. She's stuck on you.
+We're good friends&mdash;she come to call on my wife yesterday, and she
+talked about you pretty much the hull time. I never saw her worse bent
+up over a man. I believe she'd marry you, Mose, I do."</p>
+
+<p>"Takes two for a bargain of that kind," said Mose<a class="pagenum" title="275" name="page_275" id="page_275"></a>.</p>
+
+<p>The marshal turned. "But, my boy, that means making you a half owner of
+all she has&mdash;why that last mine may go to a million within six months."</p>
+
+<p>"That's all right," Mose replied, feeling the intended good will of the
+older man. "But I expect to find or earn my own money. I can't marry a
+woman fifteen years older'n I am for her money. It ain't right and it
+ain't decent, and you'll oblige me by shutting up all such talk."</p>
+
+<p>The sheriff humbly sighed. "She is a good deal older, that's a fact&mdash;but
+she's took care of herself. Still, as you say, it's none o' my business.
+If she can't persuade you, I can't. Come in, and I'll introduce you to
+the managers of the National&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Can't now, I will later."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, so long! Come in any time."</p>
+
+<p>Mose stepped into a barber shop to brush up a little, for he had
+acquired a higher estimate of the princess, and when he entered the
+dining room of the Palace he made a handsome figure. Whatever he wore
+acquired distinction from his beauty. His hat, no matter how stained,
+possessed charm. His dark shirt displayed the splendid shape of his
+shoulders, and his cartridge belt slanted across his hip at just the
+right angle.</p>
+
+<p>The woman waiting for him smiled with an exultant glint i<a class="pagenum" title="276" name="page_276" id="page_276"></a>n her
+half-concealed eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit there," she commanded, pointing at a chair. "Two beers," she said
+to the waiter.</p>
+
+<p>Mose took the chair opposite and looked at her smilelessly. He waited
+for her to move.</p>
+
+<p>"Ever been East&mdash;Chicago, Washington?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Want to go?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>She smiled again. "Know anything about mining?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a thing."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him with a musing, admiring glance. "I've got a big cattle
+ranch&mdash;will you superintend it for me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Where is it?"<a class="pagenum" title="277" name="page_277" id="page_277"></a></p>
+
+<p>She laughed and stammered a little. "Well&mdash;I mean I've been thinking of
+buying one. I'm kind o' tired of these mining towns; I believe I'd like
+to live on a ranch, with you to superintend it."</p>
+
+<p>His face darkened again, and she hastened to say, "The cattle business
+is going to boom again soon. They're all dropping out of it fast, but
+<i>now</i> is the time to get in and buy."</p>
+
+<p>The beer came and interrupted her. "Here's to good luck," she said. They
+drank, and as she daintily touched her lips with her handkerchief she
+lifted her eyes to him again&mdash;strange eyes with lovely green and yellow
+and pink lights in them not unlike some semi-precious stones.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't like me," she said. "Why won't you let me help you?"</p>
+
+<p>"You want a square-toed answer?" he asked grimly, looking her steadily
+in the eyes.</p>
+
+<p>She paled a little. "Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"There is a girl in Iowa&mdash;I make it my business to work for her."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes fell and her right hand slowly turned the mug around and
+around. When she looked up she seemed older and her eyes were sadder.
+"That need make no d<a class="pagenum" title="278" name="page_278" id="page_278"></a>ifference."</p>
+
+<p>"But it does," he said slowly. "It makes all the difference there is."</p>
+
+<p>She became suddenly very humble. "You misunderstand me&mdash;I mean, I'll
+help you both. How do you expect to live?"</p>
+
+<p>His eyes fell now. He flushed and shifted uneasily in his chair. "I
+don't know." Then he unbent a little in saying, "That's what's bothering
+me right now."</p>
+
+<p>She pursued her advantage. "If you marry you've got to quit all this
+trail business."</p>
+
+<p>"Dead sure thing! And that scares me too. I don't know how I'd stand
+being tied down to a stake."</p>
+
+<p>She laid a hand on his arm. "Now see here, Mose, you let me help you.
+You know all about cattle and the trail, you can shoot and throw a
+rope, but you're a babe at lots of other things. You've got to get to
+work at something, settle right down, and dig up some dust. Now isn't
+that so?"</p>
+
+<p>"I reckon that's the size of it."</p>
+
+<p>It was singular how friendly she now seemed in his eyes. There was
+something so frank and gentle in her voice (though her eyes remained
+sinister) that he began almost to trust her.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now, I tell you what you can do. You take the job I got for you
+with the Express Company and I'll look around and corral something else
+for you."</p>
+
+<p>He could not refuse to take her hand upon this compact. Then she said
+with an attempt to be careless, "Have you a picture of this girl? I'd
+like to see how she looks."<a class="pagenum" title="279" name="page_279" id="page_279"></a></p>
+
+<p>His face darkened again. "No," he said shortly, "I never had one of
+her."</p>
+
+<p>She recognized his unwillingness to say more.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, good-by, come and see me."</p>
+
+<p>He parted from her with a sense of having been unnecessarily harsh with
+a woman who wished to be his good friend.</p>
+
+<p>He was hungry and that made him think of his horse which he returned to
+at once. After watering and feeding his tired beast he turned in at a
+coffeehouse and bought a lunch&mdash;not being able to afford a meal.
+Everywhere he went men pointed a timid or admiring thumb at him. They
+were unobtrusive about it, but it annoyed him at the moment. His mind
+was too entirely filled with perplexities to welcome strangers'
+greetings. "I <i>must</i> earn some money," was the thought which brought
+with it each time the offer of the Express Company. He determined each
+time to take it although it involved riding the same trail over and over
+again, which made him shudder to think of. But it was three times the
+pay of a cowboy and a single month of it would enable him to make his
+trip to the East.</p>
+
+<p>After his luncheon he turned in at the office and sullenly accepted the
+job. "You're just the man we need," said the manager. "We've had two or
+three hold-ups here, but with you on the seat I shall feel entirely at
+ease. Marshal Haney has recommended you&mdash;and I know your record as a
+daring man. Can you go out to-morrow morning?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quicker the better."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="280" name="page_280" id="page_280"></a></p>
+<p>"I'd like to have you sleep here in the office. I'll see that you have a
+good bed."</p>
+
+<p>"Anywhere."</p>
+
+<p>After Mose went out the manager winked at the marshal and said:</p>
+
+<p>"It's a good thing to have him retained on our side. He'd make a bad man
+on the hold-up side."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure thing!" replied Haney.</p>
+
+<p>While loitering on a street corner still busy with his problems Mose saw
+a tall man on a fine black horse coming down the street. The rider
+slouched in his saddle like a tired man but with the grace of a true
+horseman. On his bushy head sat a wide soft hat creased in the middle.
+His suit was brown corduroy.</p>
+
+<p>Mose thought, "If that bushy head was not so white I should say it was
+father's. It <i>is</i> father!"</p>
+
+<p>He let him pass, staring in astonishment at the transformation in the
+minister. "Well, well! the old man has woke up. He looks the real thing,
+sure."</p>
+
+<p>A drum struck up suddenly and the broncho (never too tired to shy) gave
+a frenzied leap. The rider went with him, reins in hand, heels set well
+in, knees grasping the saddle.</p>
+
+<p>Mose smiled with genuine pleasure. "I didn't know he could ride <a class="pagenum" title="281" name="page_281" id="page_281"></a>like
+that," and he turned to follow with a genuine interest.</p>
+
+<p>He came up to Mr. Excell just as the marshal stepped out of the crowd
+and accosted him. For the first time in his life Mose was moved to joke
+his father.</p>
+
+<p>"Marshal, that man is a dangerous character. I know him; put him out."</p>
+
+<p>The father turned and a smile lit his darkly tanned face. "Harry&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mose made a swift sign, "Old man, how are ye?" The minister's manner
+pleased his son. He grasped his father's hand with a heartiness that
+checked speech for the moment, then he said, "I was looking for you.
+Where you from?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've got a summer camp between here and the Springs. I saw the notice
+of you in yesterday's paper. I've been watching the newspapers for a
+long time, hoping to get some word of you. I seized the first chance and
+came on."</p>
+
+<p>Mose turned. "Marshal, I'll vouch for this man; he's an old neighbor of
+mine."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Excell slipped to the ground and Mose took the rein on his arm.
+"Come, let's put the horse with mine." They walked away, elbow <a class="pagenum" title="282" name="page_282" id="page_282"></a>to elbow.
+A wonderful change had swept over Mr. Excell. He was brown, alert, and
+vigorous&mdash;but more than all, his eyes were keen and cheerful and his
+smile ready and manly.</p>
+
+<p>"You're looking well," said the son.</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>am well</i>. Since I struck the high altitudes I'm a new man. I don't
+wonder you love this life."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you preaching?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I speak once a week in the Springs. I ride down the trail from my
+cabin and back again the same day. The fact is I stayed in Rock River
+till I was nearly broken. I lost my health, and became morbid, trying to
+preach to the needs of the old men and women of my congregation. Now I
+am free. I am back to the wild country. Of course, so long as my wife
+lived I couldn't break away, but now I have no one but myself and my
+needs are small. I am happier than I have been for years."</p>
+
+<p>As they walked and talked together the two men approached an
+understanding. Mr. Excell felt sure of his son's interest, for the first
+time in many years, and avoided all terms of affection. In his return to
+the more primitive, bolder life he unconsciously left behind him all the
+"soft phrases" which had disgusted his son. He struck the right note
+almost without knowing it, and the son, precisely as he perceived in his
+father a return to rugged manliness, opened his hand to him.</p>
+
+<p>Together they took care of the horse, together they walked the streets.
+They sat at supper together and the father's joy was very great when at
+night they camped together and Mose so far unbent as to tell of his
+adventures. He did not confide his feeling for Mary&mdash;his love was far
+too deep for that. A strange woman had reached it by craft, a father's
+affection failed of it.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="283" name="page_283" id="page_283"></a>
+<a name="THE_EAGLE_GUARDS_THE_SHEEP" id="THE_EAGLE_GUARDS_THE_SHEEP"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+<h3>THE EAGLE GUARDS THE SHEEP</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mose did not enter upon his duties as guard with joy. It seemed like
+small business and not exactly creditable employment for a trailer and
+cow puncher. It was in his judgment a foolish expenditure of money; but
+as there was nothing better to do and his need of funds was imperative,
+he accepted it.</p>
+
+<p>The papers made a great deal of it, complimenting the company upon its
+shrewdness, and freely predicted that no more hold-ups would take place
+along that route. Mose rode out of town on the seat with the driver, a
+Winchester between his knees and a belt of cartridges for both rifle and
+revolvers showing beneath his coat. He left the stable each morning at
+four A. M. and rode to the halfway house, where he slept over night,
+returning the following day. From the halfway house to the Springs there
+were settlers and less danger.</p>
+
+<p>He was conscious of being an object of curious inquiry. Meeting stage
+coaches was equivalent to being fired at by fifty pistols. Low words
+<a class="pagenum" title="284" name="page_284" id="page_284"></a>
+echoed from lip to lip: "Black Mose," "bad man," "graveyard of his own,"
+"good fellow when sober," etc. Sometimes, irritated and reckless, he
+lived up to his sinister reputation, and when some Eastern gentleman in
+brown corduroy timidly approached to say, "Fine weather," Mose turned
+upon him a baleful glare under which the questioner shriveled, to the
+delight of the driver, who vastly admired the new guard.</p>
+
+<p>At times he was unnecessarily savage. Well-meaning men who knew nothing
+about him, except that he was a guard, were rebuffed in quite the same
+way. He was indeed becoming self-conscious, as if on exhibition,
+somehow&mdash;and this feeling deepened as the days passed, for nothing
+happened. No lurking forms showed in the shadow of the pines. No voice
+called "Halt!" It became more and more like a stage play.</p>
+
+<p>He was much disturbed by Jack's letter which was waiting for him one
+night when he returned to Wagon Wheel.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>"DEAR HARRY: I went up to see Mary a few weeks ago and found
+she had gone to Chicago. Her father died over a year ago and
+she decided soon after to go to the city and go on with her
+music.&nbsp; She's in some conservatory there. I don't know which
+one. I tried hard to keep her on my own account but she
+<a class="pagenum" title="285" name="page_285" id="page_285"></a>wouldn't listen
+to me. Well, yes, she listened but she shook
+her head. She dropped King soon after your visit&mdash;whether you
+had anything to do with that or not I don't know&mdash;I think you
+did, but as you didn't write she gave you up as a bad
+job. She always used to talk of you and wonder where you
+were, and every time I called she used to sing If I Were a
+Voice. She never <i>said</i> she was singing it for you, but there
+were tears in her eyes&mdash;and in mine, too, old man. You
+oughtn't to be throwing yourself away in that wild,
+God-forsaken country. We discussed you most of the time. Once
+in a while she'd see a little note in the paper about you,
+and cut it out and send it to me. I did the same. We heard of
+you at Flagstaff, Arizona. Then that row you had with the
+Mormons was the next we knew, but we couldn't write. She said
+it was pretty tough to hear of you only in some scrape, but I
+told her your side hadn't been heard from and that gave her a
+lot of comfort. The set-to you had about the Indians' right
+to hunt pleased us both. That was a straight case. She said
+it was like a knight of the olden time.</p>
+
+<p>"She was uneasy about you, and once she said, 'I wish I could
+reach him. That rough life terrifies me. He's in constant
+danger.' I think she was afraid you'd take to drinking, and I
+own up, old man, that worries <i>me</i>. If you only had somebody
+to look after you&mdash;somebody to work for&mdash;like I have. I'm
+going to be married in September. You know her&mdash;only she was
+<a class="pagenum" title="286" name="page_286" id="page_286"></a>a
+little girl when you lived here. Her name is Lily Blanchard.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could help you about Mary. I'm going to write to
+one or two parties who may know her address. If she's in
+Chicago you could visit her without any trouble. They
+wouldn't get on to you there at all. If you go, be sure and
+come this way. Your father went to Denver from here&mdash;have you
+heard from him?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>There was deep commotion in the trailer's brain that night. The hope he
+had was too sacredly sweet to put into words&mdash;the hope that she still
+thought of him and longed for him. If Jack were right, then she had
+waited and watched for him through all those years of wandering, while
+he, bitter and unrelenting, and believing that she was King's wife, had
+refused to listen for her voice on Sunday evenings. If she had kept her
+promise, then on the trail, in ca&ntilde;ons dark and deathly still, on the
+moonlit sand of the Painted Desert, on the high divides of the Needle
+Range, her thought had been winged toward him in song&mdash;and he had not
+listened.</p>
+
+<p>His thought turned now, for the first time, to<a class="pagenum" title="287" name="page_287" id="page_287"></a>ward the great city, which
+was to him a savage jungle of unknown things, a web of wire, a maze of
+streets, a swirling flood of human beings, of interest now merely and
+solely because Mary had gone to live therein. "I'm due to make another
+trip East," he said to himself with a grim straightening of the lips.</p>
+
+<p>It was mighty serious business. To take Kintuck and hit the trail for
+the Kalispels over a thousand miles of mountain and plain, was simple,
+but to thrust himself amid the mad rush of a great city made his bold
+heart quail. Money was a minor consideration in the hills, but in the
+city it was a matter of life and death. Money he must now have, and as
+he could not borrow or steal it, it must be earned. In a month his wages
+would amount to one hundred dollars, but that was too slow. He saw no
+other way, however, so set his teeth and prepared to go on with the
+"fool business" of guarding the treasure wagon of the Express Company.</p>
+
+<p>His mind reverted often to the cowboy tournament which was about to come
+off, after hanging fire for a month, during which Grassi wrestled with
+the problem of how to hold a bullfight in opposition to the laws of the
+State. "If I could whirl in and catch one of those purses," thought
+Mose, "I could leave at the end of August. If I don't I must hang on
+till the first of October."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="288" name="page_288" id="page_288"></a></p>
+<p>He determined to enter for the roping contest and for the cowboy race
+and the revolver practice. Marshal Haney was delighted. "I'll attend to
+the business, but the entrance fees will be about twenty dollars."</p>
+
+<p>This staggered Mose. It meant an expenditure of nearly one fourth his
+month's pay in entrance fees, not to speak of the expense of keeping
+Kintuck, for the old horse had to go into training and be grain-fed as
+well. However, he was too confident of winning to hesitate. He drew on
+his wages, and took a day off to fetch Kintuck, whom he found fat and
+hearty and very dirty.</p>
+
+<p>The boys at the Reynolds ranch were willing to bet on Mose, and every
+soul determined to be there. Cora said quietly: "I know you'll win."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't expect to sweep the board, but I'll get a lunch while the
+rest are getting a full meal," he replied, and returned to his duties.</p>
+
+<p>The weather did not change for the tournament. Each morning the sun
+arose flashing with white, undimmed fire. At ten o'clock great dazzling
+white clouds developed from hidden places behind huge peaks, and as they
+expanded each let fall a veil of shimmering white storms that <a class="pagenum" title="289" name="page_289" id="page_289"></a>were hail
+on the heights and sleet on the paths in the valleys. These clouds
+passed swiftly, the sun came out, the dandelions shone vividly through
+their coverlet of snow, the eaves dripped, the air was like March, and
+the sunsets like November.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally, Sunday was the day fixed upon for the tournament, and early
+on that day miners in clean check shirts and bright new blue overalls
+began to stream away up the road which led to the race track, some two
+miles away, on the only level ground for a hundred miles. Swift horses
+hitched to light open buggies whirled along, loaded down with men.
+Horsemen galloped down the slopes in squadrons&mdash;and such
+horsemen!&mdash;cowboys from "Lost Park" and "the Animas." Prospectors like
+Casey and Kelly who were quite as much at home on a horse as with a pick
+in a ditch, and men like Marshal Haney and Grassi, who were all-round
+plainsmen, and by that same token born horsemen. Haney and Kelly rode
+with Reynolds and Mose, while Cora and Mrs. Reynolds followed in a rusty
+buggy drawn by a fleabitten gray cow pony, sedate with age.</p>
+
+<p>Kintuck was as alert as a four-year-old. His rest had filled him to
+bursting with ambition to do and to serve. His muscles played under his
+shining skin like those of a trained athlete. Obedient to the lightest
+touch or word of his master, with ears in restless motion, he curvetted
+like a ra<a class="pagenum" title="290" name="page_290" id="page_290"></a>cer under the wire.</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't know that horse was twelve years old, would you, gentlemen?"
+said Reynolds. "Well, so he is, and he has covered fifteen thousand
+miles o' trail."</p>
+
+<p>Mose was at his best. With vivid tie flowing from the collar of his blue
+shirt, with a new hat properly crushed in on the crown in four places,
+with shining revolver at his hip, and his rope coiled at his right knee,
+he sat his splendid horse, haughty and impassive of countenance,
+responding to the greetings of the crowd only with a slight nod or a
+wave of the hand.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to him that the population of the whole State&mdash;at least its
+men&mdash;was assembled within the big stockade. There were a few women&mdash;just
+enough to add decorum to the crowd. They were for the most part the
+wives or sisters or sweethearts of those who were to contest for prizes,
+but as Mose rode around the course he passed "the princess" sitting in
+her shining barouche and waving a handkerchief. He pretended not to see
+her, though it gave him pleasure to think that the most
+brilliantly-dressed woman on the grounds took such interest in him.
+Another man would have ridden up to her carriage, but Mose kept on
+steadily to the judge's stand, where he found a group of cowboys
+discussing the programme with Haney, the marshal of the day.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="291" name="page_291" id="page_291"></a></p>
+<p>Mose already knew his dangerous rival&mdash;a powerful and handsome fellow
+called Denver Dan, whose face was not unlike his own. His nose was
+straight and strong, his chin finely modeled, and his head graceful, but
+he was heavier, and a persistent flush on his nose and in his eyelids
+betrayed the effects of liquor. His hands were small and graceful and he
+wore his hat with a certain attractive insolence, but his mouth was
+cruel and his eyes menacing. When in liquor he was known to be
+ferocious. He was mounted on a superbly pointed grade broncho, and all
+his hangings were of costly Mexican workmanship and betrayed use.</p>
+
+<p>"The first thing is a 'packing contest,'" read Haney.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, to h&mdash;&mdash;l with that, I'm no packer," growled Dan.</p>
+
+<p>"I try that," said Mose; "I let nothing get away to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Entrance fee one dollar."</p>
+
+<p>"Here you are." Mose tossed a dollar.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="292" name="page_292" id="page_292"></a></p>
+<p>"Then 'roping and holding contest.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Now you're talking my business," exclaimed Dan.</p>
+
+<p>"There are others," said Mose.</p>
+
+<p>Dan turned a contemptuous look on the speaker&mdash;but changed his
+expression as he met Mose's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Howdy, Mose?"</p>
+
+<p>"So's to sit a horse," Mose replied in a tone which cut. He was not used
+to being patronized by men of Dan's set.</p>
+
+<p>The crowd perceived the growing rivalry between the two men and winked
+joyously at each other.</p>
+
+<p>At last all was arranged. The spectators were assembled on the rude
+seats. The wind, sweet, clear, and cool, came over the smooth grassy
+slopes to the west, while to the east, gorgeous as sunlit marble, rose
+the great snowy peaks with huge cumulus clouds&mdash;apparently standing on
+edge&mdash;peeping over their shoulders from behind. Mose observed them and
+mentally calculated that it would not shower till three in the
+afternoon.<a class="pagenum" title="293" name="page_293" id="page_293"></a></p>
+
+<p>In the track before the judge's stand six piles of "truck," each pile
+precisely like the others, lay in a row. Each consisted of a sack of
+flour, a bundle of bacon, a bag of beans, a box, a camp stove, a pick, a
+shovel, and a tent. These were to be packed, covered with a mantle, and
+caught by "the diamond hitch."</p>
+
+<p>Mose laid aside hat and coat, and as the six pack horses approached,
+seized the one intended for him. Catching the saddle blanket up by the
+corners, he shook it straight, folded it once, twice&mdash;and threw it to
+the horse. The sawbuck followed it, the cinch flying high so that it
+should go clear. A tug, a grunt from the horse, and the saddle was on.
+Unwinding the sling ropes, he made his loops, and end-packed the box.
+Against it he put both flour and beans. Folding the tent square he laid
+it between. On this he set the stove, and packing the smaller bags
+around it, threw on the mantle. As he laid the hitch and began to go
+around the pack, the crowd began to cheer:</p>
+
+<p>"Go it, Mose!"</p>
+
+<p>"He's been there before."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I guess," said another.</p>
+
+<p>Mose set his foot to the pack and "pinched" the hitch in front. Nothing
+remained now but the pick, shovel, and coffee ca<a class="pagenum" title="294" name="page_294" id="page_294"></a>n. The tools he crowded
+under the ropes on either side, tied the cans under the pack at the back
+and called Kintuck, "Come on, boy." The old horse with shining eyes drew
+near. Catching his mane, Mose swung to the saddle, Kintuck nipped the
+laden cayuse, and they were off while the next best man was still
+worrying over the hitch.</p>
+
+<p>"Nine dollars to the good on that transaction," muttered Mose, as the
+marshal handed him a ten dollar gold piece.</p>
+
+<p>"The next exercise on the programme," announced Haney, "will be the
+roping contest. The crowd will please be as quiet as possible while this
+is going on. Bring on your cows."</p>
+
+<p>Down the track in a cloud of dust came a bunch of cattle of all shapes
+and sizes. They came snuffing and bawling, urged on by a band of
+cowboys, while a cordon of older men down the track stopped and held
+them before the judge's stand.</p>
+
+<p>"First exercise&mdash;'rope and hold,'" called the marshal. "Denver Dan comes
+first."</p>
+
+<p>Dan spurred into the arena, his rope swinging gracefully in his supple
+up-raised wrist.</p>
+
+<p>"Which one you want?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"The line-back yearling," called Haney.</p>
+
+<p>With careless cast Dan picked up both hind f<a class="pagenum" title="295" name="page_295" id="page_295"></a>eet of the calf&mdash;his horse
+set his hoofs and held the bawling brute.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," called the judge. The rope was slackened and the calf
+leaped up. Dan then successively picked up any foot designated by the
+marshal. "Left hind foot! Right fore foot!" and so on with almost
+unerring accuracy. His horse, calm and swift, obeyed every word and
+every shift of his rider's body. The crowd cheered, and those who came
+after added nothing to the contest.</p>
+
+<p>Mose rode into the inclosure with impassive face. He could only
+duplicate the deeds of those who had gone before so long as his work was
+governed by the marshal&mdash;but when, as in the case of others, he was free
+to "put on frills," he did so. Tackling the heaviest and wildest steer,
+he dropped his rope over one horn and caught up one foot, then taking a
+loose turn about his pommel he spoke to Kintuck. The steer reached the
+end of the rope with terrible force. It seemed as if the saddle must
+give way&mdash;but the strain was cunningly met, and the brute tumbled and
+laid flat with a wild bawl. While Kintuck held him Mose took a cigar
+from his pocket, bit the end off, struck a match and puffed carelessly
+and lazily. It was an old trick, but well done, and the spectators
+cheered heartily.</p>
+
+<p>After a few casts of almost equal brilliancy, Mose leaped to the ground
+with the rope in his hand, and while Kintuck looked on curiously, he
+began a series of movements which one of Delmar<a class="pagenum" title="296" name="page_296" id="page_296"></a>'s Mexicans had taught
+him. With the noose spread wide he kept it whirling in the air as if it
+were a hoop. He threw it into the air and sprang through it, he lowered
+it to the ground, and leaping into it, flung it far above his head. In
+his hand this inert thing developed snakelike action. It took on loops
+and scallops and retained them, apparently in defiance of all known laws
+of physics&mdash;controlled and governed by the easy, almost imperceptible
+motions of his steel-like wrist.</p>
+
+<p>"Forty-five dollars more to the good," said Mose grimly as the decision
+came in his favor.</p>
+
+<p>"See here&mdash;going to take all the prizes?" asked one of the judges.</p>
+
+<p>"So long as you keep to my line of business," replied he.</p>
+
+<p>The races came next. Kintuck took first money on the straightaway dash,
+but lost on the long race around the pole. It nearly broke his heart,
+but he came in second to Denver Dan's sorrel twice in succession.</p>
+
+<p>Mose patted the old horse and said: "Never mind, old boy, you pulled in
+forty dollars more for me."</p>
+
+<p>Reynolds had tears in his eyes as he came up.</p>
+
+<p>"The old hoss cain't compete on the long stretches. He's like a
+middle-aged man&mdash;all right for a short dash&mdash;but the youngsters have the
+best wind&mdash;they get him on the mile course."</p>
+
+<p>In the trained pony contest the old <a class="pagenum" title="297" name="page_297" id="page_297"></a>horse redeemed himself. He knelt at
+command, laid out flat while Mose crouched behind, and at the word "Up!"
+sprang to his feet and waited&mdash;then with his master clinging to his
+mane he ran in a circle or turned to right or left at signal. All the
+tricks which the cavalry had taught their horses, Mose, in years on the
+trail, had taught Kintuck. He galloped on three legs and waltzed like a
+circus horse. He seemed to know exactly what his master said to him.</p>
+
+<p>A man with a big red beard came up to Mose as he rode off the track and
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"What'll you take for that horse?"</p>
+
+<p>Mose gave him a savage glance. "He ain't for sale."</p>
+
+<p>The broncho-busting contest Mose declined.</p>
+
+<p>"How's that?" inquired Haney, who hated to see his favorite "gig back"
+at a point where his courage could be tested.</p>
+
+<p>"I've busted all the bronchos for fun I'm going to," Mose replied.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="298" name="page_298" id="page_298"></a></p>
+<p>Dan called in a sneering tone: "Bring on your varmints. I'm not dodgin'
+mean cayuses to-day."</p>
+
+<p>Mose could not explain that for Mary's sake he was avoiding all danger.
+There was risk in the contest and he knew it, and he couldn't afford to
+take it.</p>
+
+<p>"That's all right!" he sullenly replied. "I'll be with you later in the
+game."</p>
+
+<p>A wall-eyed roan pony, looking dull and stupid, was led before the
+stand. Saddled and bridled he stood dozing while the crowd hooted with
+derision.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't make no mistake!" shouted Haney; "he's the meanest critter on the
+upper fork."</p>
+
+<p>A young lad named Jimmy Kincaid first tackled the job, and as he ran
+alongside and tried the cinch, the roan dropped an ear back&mdash;the ear
+toward Jimmy, and the knowing ones giggled with glee. "He's wakin'up!
+Look out, Jim!"</p>
+
+<p>The lad gathered the reins in his left hand, seized the pommel with his
+right, and then the roan disclosed his true nature. He was an old rebel.
+He did not waste his energies on common means. He plunged at once into
+the most complicated, furious, and effective bucking he could devise,
+almost without moving out of his tracks&mdash;and when the boy, stunned and
+bleeding at the nose, sprawled in t<a class="pagenum" title="299" name="page_299" id="page_299"></a>he dust, the roan moved away a few
+steps and dozed, panting and tense, apparently neither angry nor
+frightened.</p>
+
+<p>One of the Reynolds gang tried him next and "stayed with him" till he
+threw himself. When he arose the rider failed to secure his stirrups and
+was thrown after having sat the beast superbly. The miners were warming
+to the old roan. Many of them had never seen a pitching broncho before,
+and their delight led to loud whoops and jovial outcries.</p>
+
+<p>"Bully boy, roan! Shake 'em off!"</p>
+
+<p>Denver Dan tried him next and sat him, haughtily contemptuous, till he
+stopped, quivering with fatigue and reeking with sweat.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, well!" yelled a big miner, "that ain't a fair shake for the pony;
+you should have took him when he was fresh." And the crowd sustained him
+in it.</p>
+
+<p>"Here comes one that is fresh," called the marshal, and into the arena
+came a wicked-eyed, superbly-fashioned black roan horse, plainly wild
+and unbroken, led by two cowboys, one on either side.</p>
+
+<p>Joe Grassi shook a handfull of bills down at the crowd. "Here's a
+hundred dollars to the man who'll set that pony three minutes by the
+watch."</p>
+
+<p>"This is no place to tackle such a brute as that," said Reynolds.</p>
+
+<p>Mose was looking straight ahead with a musing look in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Denver Dan walked <a class="pagenum" title="300" name="page_300" id="page_300"></a>out. "I need that hundred dollars; nail it to a post
+for a few minutes, will ye?"</p>
+
+<p>This was no tricky old cow pony, but a natively vicious, powerful, and
+cunning young horse. While the cowboys held him Dan threw off his coat
+and hat and bound a bandanna over the bronchos's head and pulled it down
+over his eyes. Laying the saddle on swiftly, but gently, he cinched it
+strongly. With determined and vigorous movement, he thrust the bit into
+his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Slack away!" he called to the ropers. The horse, nearly dead for lack
+of breath, drew a deep sigh.</p>
+
+<p>Haney called out: "Stand clear, everybody, clear the road!"</p>
+
+<p>And casting one rope to the ground, Dan swung into the saddle.</p>
+
+<p>For just an instant the horse crouched low and waited&mdash;then shot into
+the air with a tigerish bound and fell stiff-legged. Again and again he
+flung his head down, humped his back, and sprang into the air grunting
+and squealing with rage and fear. Dan sat him, but the punishment made
+him swear. Suddenly the horse dropped and rolled, hoping to catch his
+rider unawares. Dan escaped by stepping to the ground, but he was white,
+and the blood was oozing slowly from his nose. As the brute arose, Dan
+was in the saddle. With two or three tremendous bounds, the horse flung
+himself into the air like a high-vaulting acrobat, landing so near the
+fence that Dan, swerving far to t<a class="pagenum" title="301" name="page_301" id="page_301"></a>he left, was unseated, and sprawled low
+in the dust while the squealing broncho went down the track bucking and
+lashing out with undiminished vigor.</p>
+
+<p>Dan staggered to his feet, stunned and bleeding. He swore most terrible
+oaths that he would ride that wall-eyed brute if it took a year.</p>
+
+<p>"You've had your turn. It was a fair fight," called Kelly.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's the next ambitious man?" shouted Haney.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want no truck with that," said the cowboys among themselves.</p>
+
+<p>"Not in a place like this," said Jimmy. "A feller's liable to get mashed
+agin a fence."</p>
+
+<p>Mose stood with hands gripping a post, his eyes thoughtful. Suddenly he
+threw off his coat.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try him," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't think you'd better; it'll bung you all up," cautioned
+Reynolds.</p>
+
+<p>Mose said in a low voice: "I'm good for him, and I need that money."</p>
+
+<p>"Let him breathe awhile," called the crowd as the broncho was brought
+back, lariated as before. "Give him a show for his life.<a class="pagenum" title="302" name="page_302" id="page_302"></a>"</p>
+
+<p>Mose muttered to Reynolds: "He's due to bolt, and I'm going to quirt him
+a-plenty."</p>
+
+<p>The spectators, tense with joy, filled the air with advice and warning.
+"Don't let him get started. Keep him away from the fence."</p>
+
+<p>Mose wore a set and serious look as he approached the frenzied beast.
+There was danger in this trick&mdash;a broken leg or collar bone might make
+his foolhardiness costly. In his mind's eye he could foresee the
+broncho's action. He had escaped down the track once, and would do the
+same again after a few desperate bounds&mdash;nevertheless Mose dreaded the
+terrible concussion of those stiff-legged leapings.</p>
+
+<p>Standing beside the animal's shoulder he slipped off the ropes and swung
+to the saddle. The beast went off as before, with three or four terrible
+buck jumps, but Mose plied the quirt with wild shouting, and suddenly,
+abandoning his pitching, the horse set off at a tearing pace around the
+track. For nearly half way he ran steadily&mdash;then began once more to hump
+his back and leap into the air.</p>
+
+<p>"He's down!" yelled some one.</p>
+
+<p>"No, he's up again&mdash;and Mose is there," said Han<a class="pagenum" title="303" name="page_303" id="page_303"></a>ey.</p>
+
+<p>The crowd, not to be cheated of their fun, raced across the oval where
+the battle was still going on.</p>
+
+<p>The princess was white with anxiety and ordered her coachman to "Get
+there quick as God'll let ye." When she came in sight the horse was
+tearing at Mose's foot with his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"Time's up!" called Haney.</p>
+
+<p>"Make it ten," said Mose, whose blood was hot.</p>
+
+<p>The beast dropped and rolled, but arose again under the sting of the
+quirt and renewed his frenzied attack. As Mose roweled him he kicked
+with both hind feet as if to tear the cinch from his belly. He reared on
+his toes and fell backward. He rushed with ferocious cunning against the
+corral, forcing his rider to stand in the opposite stirrup, then bucked,
+keeping so close to the fence that Mose was forced to hang to his mane
+and fight him from tearing his flesh with his savage teeth. Twice he
+went down and rolled over, but when he arose Mose was on his back. Twice
+he flung himself to the earth, and the second time he broke the bridle
+rein, but Mose, catching one piece, kept his head up while he roweled
+him till the blood dripped in the dust.</p>
+
+<p>At last, after fifteen minutes of struggle, the broncho again made off
+around the track at a rapid run. As he came opposite the judge's stand
+Mose swung him around in a circle and leaped to the ground, leaving the
+horse to gallop down the track. Dusty, and quivering with fatigue, Mose
+walked across the track and took up his coat.</p>
+
+<p>"You earned your money, Mose," said Grassi, as he handed out the roll of
+bills.<a class="pagenum" title="304" name="page_304" id="page_304"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I'll think so to-morrow morning, I reckon," replied Mose, and his walk
+showed dizziness and weakness.</p>
+
+<p>"You've had the easy end of it," said Dan. "You should have took him
+when I did, when he was fresh."</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't stay on him long enough to weaken him any," said Mose in
+offensive reply, and Dan did not care to push the controversy any
+further.</p>
+
+<p>"That spoils my shooting now," Mose said to Haney. "I couldn't hit the
+side of a mule."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you'll stiddy up after dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"Good boy!" called the crisp voice of Mrs. Raimon. "Come here, I want to
+talk with you."</p>
+
+<p>He could not decently refuse to go to the side of her carriage. She had
+with her a plain woman, slightly younger than herself, who passed for
+her niece. The two men who came with them were in the judge's stand.</p>
+
+<p>Leaning over, she spoke with sudden intensity. "My God! you mustn't take
+such risks&mdash;I'm all of a quiver. You're too good a man to be killed by a
+miserable bucking broncho. Don't do it again, for my sake&mdash;if that don't
+count, for <i>her</i> sake."
+<a class="pagenum" title="305" name="page_305" id="page_305"></a>
+And he in sudden joy and confidence replied: "That's just why I did it;
+for her sake."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes set in sudden alarm. "What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"You'll know in a day or two. I'm going to quit my job."</p>
+
+<p>"I know," she said with a quick indrawn breath, "you're going away.
+Who's that girl I saw you talking with to-day? Is that the one?"</p>
+
+<p>He laughed at her for the first time. "Not by a thousand miles."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by that? Does she live in Chicago?"</p>
+
+<p>He ceased to laugh and grew a little darker of brow, and she quietly
+added: "That's none o' my business, you'd like to say. All right&mdash;say it
+isn't. But won't you get in and go down to dinner with me? I want to
+honor the champion&mdash;the Ivanhoe of the tournament."</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head. "No, I've promised to picnic with some old friends of
+mine."</p>
+
+<p>"That girl over there?"</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="306" name="page_306" id="page_306"></a></p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, just as you say, but you must eat with me to-night, will you?
+Come now, what do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>With a half promise Mose walked away toward the Reynolds' carriage&mdash;not
+without regret, for there was charm in the princess, both in her own
+handsome person and because she suggested a singular world of which he
+knew nothing. She allured and repelled at the same time.</p>
+
+<p>Beside the buggy Cora and Mrs. Reynolds had spread a substantial lunch,
+and in such humble company the victor of the tournament ate his dinner,
+while Dan and the rest galloped off to a saloon.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what I can do with the gun," he said in reply to a
+question from Cora. "My nerves are still on the jump; I guess I'll keep
+out of the contest&mdash;it would hurt my reputation to miss." He turned to
+Reynolds: "Capt'n, I want you to get me a chance to punch cattle on a
+car down to Chicago."</p>
+
+<p>Reynolds looked surprised. "What fur do you want to go to Chicago, Mose?
+I never have knew you to mention hit befo'."</p>
+
+<p>Mose felt his skin growing red. "Well, I just thought I'd like to take a
+turn in the States and see the elephant."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll see the hull circus if you go to Chicago," said Mrs. Reynolds.
+"They say it's a terrible wicked place."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="307" name="page_307" id="page_307"></a></p>
+<p>"I don't suppose it's any worse than Wagon Wheel, ma," said Cora.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but it's so much bigger."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, mother," said Reynolds, "a bear is bigger than a ho'net, but the
+ho'net can give him points and beat him, suah thing."</p>
+
+<p>Mose was rather glad of this diversion, for when Reynolds spoke again it
+was to say: "I reckon I can fix it for you. When do you want it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Right off, this week."</p>
+
+<p>"Be gone long?"</p>
+
+<p>Cora waited anxiously for his answer, and his hesitation and uncertainty
+of tone made her heart grow heavy.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no&mdash;only a short trip, I reckon. Got to get back before my money
+gives out."</p>
+
+<p>He did not intend to enter the revolver contest, but it offered so easy
+to his hand that he went in and won hands down. His arm was lame, but
+his nerves, not fevered by whisky, swiftly recovered tone. He was
+careful, however, not to go beyond the limits of the contest as he
+should have done had his arm possessed all of its proper cunning. He had
+no real competitor but Dan, who had been drinking steadily all day and
+was unfitted for his work. Mose lost nothing in the trial.</p>
+
+<p>That night he put into his pocket one hundred and twenty dollars as the
+result of his day's work, and immediately asked to be released <a class="pagenum" title="308" name="page_308" id="page_308"></a>of his
+duties as guard.</p>
+
+<p>The manager of the Express Company said: "I'm sorry you're leaving us,
+and I hope you'll return to us soon. I'll hold the place open for you,
+if you say so."</p>
+
+<p>This Mose refused. "I don't like it," he said. "I don't think I earn the
+money. Hire a good driver and he'll have no trouble. You don't need
+me."</p>
+
+<p>Mindful of his promise to eat dinner with the princess, he said to
+Reynolds: "Don't wait for me. Go on&mdash;I'll overtake you at Twelve Mile
+Creek."</p>
+
+<p>The princess had not lost sight of him for a single moment, and the
+instant he departed from his friends she drove up. "You are to come to
+my house to-night, remember."</p>
+
+<p>"I must overtake my folks; I can't stay long," he said lamely.</p>
+
+<p>Her power was augmented by her home. He had expected pictures and fine
+carpets and a piano and they were there, but there was a great deal
+more. He perceived a richness of effect which he could not have
+formulated better than to say, "It was all <i>fine</i>." He had expected
+things to be costly and gay of color, but this mysterious fitness of
+everything was a marvel to one like himself, used only to the meager
+ornaments of the homes in Rock River, or the threadbare poverty of the
+ranches and the squalid<a class="pagenum" title="309" name="page_309" id="page_309"></a> hotels of the cow country. The house was a large
+new frame building, not so much different from other houses with respect
+to exterior, but as he entered the door he took off his hat to it as he
+used to do as a lad in the home of Banker Brooks, deacon in his father's
+church.</p>
+
+<p>His was a sensitive soul, eye and ear were both acute. He perceived,
+without accounting for it, that the walls and hangings were
+complementary in color, that the furniture matched the carpet, and that
+the pictures on the wall were unusually good. They were not all
+highly-colored, naked subjects, as he had been led to expect. His
+respect for Mrs. Raimon rose, for he remembered that Mary's home, while
+just as different from this as Mary was different from Mrs. Raimon, had,
+after all, something in common&mdash;both were beautiful to him, though
+Mary's home was sweeter, daintier, and homelier. He was in the midst of
+an analysis of these subtleties when Mrs. Raimon (as he now determined
+to call her) returned from changing her dress.</p>
+
+<p>He was amazed at the change in her. She wore a dark gray gown with
+almost no ornament, and looked smaller, older, and paler, but
+incomparably more winning and womanly than she had ever seemed before.
+She appeared to be serious and her voice was gentle and winning.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, boy, here you are&mdash;under my roof. Not such an awful den after
+all, is it?" she said with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Beats a holler log in a snowstorm," he replied, looking about the room.
+"Must have shipped all this truck from the States, it never was built
+out <a class="pagenum" title="310" name="page_310" id="page_310"></a>here&mdash;it would take me a couple of months to earn a whole outfit
+like this, wouldn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>She remained serious. "Mose, I want to tell you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute," he interrupted; "let's start fair. My name is Harold
+Excell, and I'm going to call you Mrs. Raimon."</p>
+
+<p>She thrust out her hand. "Good boy!" He could see she was profoundly
+pleased. Indeed she could not at once resume. At last she said: "I was
+going to say, Harold, that you can't earn a home trailin' around over
+these mountains year after year with a band of Indians."</p>
+
+<p>He became thoughtful. "I reckon you're right about that. I'm wasting
+time; I've got to picket old Kintuck somewhere and go to work if I&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He stopped abruptly and she smiled mournfully. "You needn't hesitate;
+tell me all about it."</p>
+
+<p>He sat in silence&mdash;a silence that at last became a rebuke. She arose.
+"Well, suppose we go out to supper; we can talk all the better there."</p>
+
+<p>He felt out of place and self-conscious, but he gave little outward sign
+of it as he took his seat at the table opposite her. For reasons of her
+own she emphasized the domestic side of her life and fairly awed the
+stern youth by her womanly dignity and grace. The little table was set
+for two, with pret<a class="pagenum" title="311" name="page_311" id="page_311"></a>ty dishes. Liquor had no place on the cover, but a
+shining tea-pot, brought in by a smiling negress, was placed at her
+right hand. Her talk for a time was of the tea, the food, his taste as
+to sugar and other things pertaining to her duties as hostess. All his
+lurid imaginings of her faded into the wind, and a thousand new and old
+conceptions of wife and home and peaceful middle age came thronging like
+sober-colored birds. If she were playing a game it was well done and
+successful. Mose fell often into silence and deep thought.</p>
+
+<p>She respected his introspection, and busying herself with the service
+and with low-voiced orders to the waitress, left him free for a time.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly she turned. "You mustn't judge me by what people say outside.
+Judge me by what I am to you. I don't claim to be a Sunday-school
+teacher, but I average up pretty well, after all. I appear to a
+disadvantage. When Raimon died I took hold of his business out here and
+I've made it pay. I have a talent for business, and I like it. I've got
+enough to be silly with if I want to, but I intend to take care of
+myself&mdash;and I may even marry again. I can see you're deeply involved in
+a love affair, Mose, and I honestly want to help you&mdash;but I shan't say
+another word about it&mdash;only remember, when you need help you come to
+Martha Jane Williams Raimon. How is<a class="pagenum" title="312" name="page_312" id="page_312"></a> that for a name? It's mine; my
+father was Lawrence Todd Williams, Professor of Paleontology at Blank
+College. Raimon was an actor of the tenth rate&mdash;the kind that play
+leading business in the candlestick circuit. Naturally Doctor Todd
+objected to an actor as a son-in-law. I eloped. Launt was a good fellow,
+and we had a happy honeymoon, but he lost his health and came out here
+and invested in a mine. That brought me. I was always lucky, and we
+struck it&mdash;but the poor fellow didn't live long enough to enjoy it. You
+know all," she ended with a curious forced lightness of utterance.</p>
+
+<p>After another characteristic silence, Mose said slowly: "Anyhow, I want
+you to understand that I'm much obliged for your good will; I'm not
+worth a cuss at putting things in a smooth way; I think I'm getting
+worse every day, but you've been my friend, and&mdash;and there's no discount
+on my words when I tell you you've made me feel ashamed of myself
+to-day. From this time on, I take no other man's judgment of a woman.
+You know my life&mdash;all there is that would interest you. I don't know how
+to talk to a woman&mdash;any kind of a woman&mdash;but no matter what I say, I
+don't mean to do anybody any harm. I'm getting a good deal like an
+Indian&mdash;I talk to make known what's on my mind. Since I was seventeen
+years of age I've let girls pretty well alone. The kind I meet alongside
+the trail don't interest me. When I was a boy I was glib enough, but I
+know a whole lot less now than I did then&mdash;that is about some things.
+What I started to say is this: I'm mighty much obliged for what you've
+done for me here&mdash;but I'm going to pull out<a class="pagenum" title="313" name="page_313" id="page_313"></a> to-night&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Not for good?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;that's beyond me. All I know is I hit the longest and wildest
+trail I ever entered. Where it comes out at I don't know. But I shan't
+forget you; you've been a good friend to me."</p>
+
+<p>Her voice faltered a little as she said: "I wish you'd write to me and
+let me know how you are?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't expect that of me. I chew my tongue like a ten-year-old kid
+when I write. I never was any good at it, and I'm clear out of it now.
+The chances are I'll round up in the mountains again; I can't see how
+I'd make a living anywhere else. If I come back this way I'll let you
+know."</p>
+
+<p>Neither of them was eating now, and the tension was great. She knew that
+no artifice could keep him, and he was aware of her emotion and was
+eager to escape.</p>
+
+<p>He pushed back his c<a class="pagenum" title="314" name="page_314" id="page_314"></a>hair at last, and she arose and came toward him and
+took his hand, standing so close to him that her bosom almost touched
+his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"I hate to see you go!" she said, and the passionate tremor in her voice
+moved him very deeply. "You've brought back my interest in simple
+things&mdash;and life seems worth while when I'm with you."</p>
+
+<p>He shook her hand and then dropped it. "Well, so long."</p>
+
+<p>"So long!" she said, and added, with another attempt at brightness, "and
+don't stay away too long, and don't fail to let me know when you make
+the circuit."</p>
+
+<p>As he mounted his horse he remembered that there was another good-by to
+speak, and that was to Cora.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish these women would let a man go without saying good-by at all,"
+he thought in irritation, but the patter of Kintuck's feet set his
+thought in other directions. As he topped the d<a class="pagenum" title="315" name="page_315" id="page_315"></a>ivide, he drew rein and
+looked at the great range to the southeast, lit by the dull red light of
+the sun, which had long since set to the settlers in the valley. His
+heart was for a moment divided. The joys of the trail&mdash;the care-free
+life&mdash;perhaps after all the family life was not for him. Perhaps he was
+chasing a mirage. He was on the divide of his life. On one side were the
+mountains, the camps, the cattle, the wild animals&mdash;on the other the
+plains, the cities, and Mary.</p>
+
+<p>The thought of Mary went deep. It took hold of the foundations of his
+thinking and decided him. Shuddering with the pain and despair of his
+love he lifted rein and rode down into the deep shadow of the long ca&ntilde;on
+through which roared the swift waters of the North Fork on their long
+journey to the east and south. Thereafter he had no uncertainties. Like
+the water of the ca&ntilde;on he had but to go downward to the plain.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="316" name="page_316" id="page_316"></a>
+<a name="THE_EAGLE_ADVENTURES_INTO_STRANGE_LANDS" id="THE_EAGLE_ADVENTURES_INTO_STRANGE_LANDS"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+<h3>THE EAGLE ADVENTURES INTO STRANGE LANDS</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>It can not be said that the Black Eagle of the Rocky Mountains
+approached civilization in any heroic disguise. At its best,
+accompanying a cattle train is not epic in its largeness. To prod cattle
+by means of a long pole, to pull out smothered sheep, are not in
+themselves degrading deeds, but they are not picturesque in quality.
+They smell of the shambles, not of the hills.</p>
+
+<p>Day by day the train slid down the shining threads of track like a long
+string of rectangular green and brown and yellow beads. The caboose was
+filled with cattlemen and their assistants, who smoked, talked politics,
+told stories, and slept at all hours of the day, whenever a spare
+segment of bench offered. Those who were awake saw everything and
+commented on everything in sight. To some the main questions were when
+and where they were to get dinner or secure a drink. The train, being a
+"through freight," ran almost as steadily as a passenger train, and the
+thirsty souls became quite depressed or savage at times by lack of
+<a class="pagenum" title="317" name="page_317" id="page_317"></a>
+opportunities to "wet their whistles."</p>
+
+<p>Mose was singularly silent, for he was reliving his boyish life on the
+plains and noting the changes which had taken place. The towns had grown
+gray with the bleach of the weather. Farms had multiplied and fences cut
+the range into pasture lands. As the mountains sank beneath the level
+horizon line his heart sank with them. Every hour of travel to the East
+was to him dangerous, disheartening. On the second day he was ready to
+leap from the caboose and wave it good-by; but he did not&mdash;he merely sat
+on the back platform and watched the track. He felt as if he were in one
+of those aerial buckets which descend like eagles from the mines in the
+Marshall Basin; the engine appeared to proceed eastward of its own
+weight, impossible to check or turn back.</p>
+
+<p>The uncertainty of finding Mary in the millions of the city weakened his
+resolution, but as he was aboard, and as the train slid while he
+pondered, descending, remorselessly, he determined to "stay with it" as
+he would with a bucking broncho.</p>
+
+<p>Kansas City with its big depot sheds filled with clangor and swarming
+with emigrants gave him a foretaste of Chicago. Two of his companions
+proceeded to get drunk and became so offensive that he was for<a class="pagenum" title="318" name="page_318" id="page_318"></a>ced to
+cuff them into quiet. This depressed him also&mdash;he had no other defense
+but his hands. His revolvers were put away in his valise where they
+could not be reached in a hurry. Reynolds had said to him, "Now, Mose,
+you're going into a country where they settle things with fists, so
+leave your guns at home. Keep cool and don't mix in where there's no
+call to mix in. If a man gives you lip&mdash;walk off and leave him&mdash;don't
+hunt your guns."</p>
+
+<p>Mose had also purchased a "hard" hat and shaved off his mustache in
+Ca&ntilde;on City, and Reynolds himself would not have known him as he
+sauntered about the station room. Every time he lifted his fingers to
+his mustache he experienced a shock, and coming before a big mirror over
+the fireplace he stared with amazement&mdash;so boyish and so sorrowful did
+he appear to himself. It seemed as though he were playing a part.</p>
+
+<p>As the train drew out of the town, night was falling and the East grew
+mysterious as the thitherward side of the river of death. Familiar
+things were being left behind. Uncertainties thickened like the
+darkness. All night long the engine hooted and howled and jarred along
+through the deep darkness, and every time the train stopped the cattle
+and sheep were inspected. Lanterns held aloft disclosed cattle being
+trampled to death and sheep smothering. Wild shouting, oaths, broke
+forth accompanied by thumpings, and the rumbling and creaking of cars as
+the cattle surged to and fro, and at the end, circles of fire&mdash;lanterns
+signaling "Go ahead"<a class="pagenum" title="319" name="page_319" id="page_319"></a>&mdash;caused a wild rush for the caboose.</p>
+
+<p>Morning brought to light a land of small farms, with cattle in minute
+pastures, surrounded by stacks of hay and grain, plowed fields,
+threshing crews, and teams plodding to and fro on dusty roads. The
+plainsman was gone, the prairie farmer filled the landscape. Towns
+thickened and grew larger. At noon the freight lay at a siding to let
+the express trains come in at a populous city, and in the wait Mose
+found time to pace the platform. The people were better dressed, the
+cowboy hat was absent, and nearly everybody wore not merely a coat but a
+vest and linen collar. Some lovely girls looking crisp as columbines or
+plains' poppies looked at him from the doors of the parlor cars. They
+suggested Mary to him, of course, and made him realize how far he was
+getting from the range.</p>
+
+<p>These dainty girls looked and acted like some of those he had seen in
+Ca&ntilde;on City and the Springs. They walked with the same step and held
+their dresses the same way. That must be the fashion, he thought. The
+men of the town were less solemn than plainsmen, they smiled oftener
+and they joked more easily. Mose wondered how so many of them made a
+living in one place. He heard one girl say to another, "Yes&mdash;but he's
+awful sad looking, don't you think so?" and it was some minutes before
+he began to understand that they wer<a class="pagenum" title="320" name="page_320" id="page_320"></a>e talking about him. Then he wished
+he knew what else they had said.</p>
+
+<p>There was little chance to see the towns for the train whirled through
+them with furious jangle of bell and whiz of steam&mdash;or else drew up in
+the freight yard a long way out from the station. When night fell on
+this, the third day, they were nearing the Great River and all the
+cattlemen were lamenting the fact. Those who had been over the line
+before said:</p>
+
+<p>"Too bad, fellers! You'd ought to see the Mississippi, she's a loo-loo.
+The bridge, too, is worth seein'."</p>
+
+<p>During the evening there was a serious talk about hotels and the
+amusements to be had. One faction, led by McCleary, of Currant Creek,
+stood for the "Drovers' Home." "It's right out near the stockyards an'
+it's a good place. Dollar a day covers everything, unless you want a big
+room, which is a quarter extra. Grub is all right&mdash;and some darn nice
+girls waitin' on the table, too."</p>
+
+<p>But Thompson who owned the sheep was contemptuous. "I want to be in
+town; I don't go to Chica<a class="pagenum" title="321" name="page_321" id="page_321"></a>go to live out in the stockyards; I want to be
+where things go by. I ante my valise at the Grand Palace or the New
+Merchants'; the best is good enough for me."</p>
+
+<p>McCleary looked a little put down. "Well, that's all right for a man who
+can afford it. I've got a big family and I wouldn't feel right to be
+blowing in two or three dollars a day just for style."</p>
+
+<p>"Wherever the girls are thickest, there's where you'll find me," said
+one of the young fellows.</p>
+
+<p>"That's me," said another.</p>
+
+<p>Thompson smiled with a superior air. "You fellers'll bring up down on
+South Clark Street before you end. Some choice dive on the levee is
+gappin' for you. Now, mind you, I won't bail you out. You go into the
+game with your eyes open," he said, and his banter was highly pleasing
+to the accused ones.</p>
+
+<p>McCleary turned to Harold, whom he knew only as "Hank," and said:</p>
+
+<p>"Hank, you ain't sayin' a word; what're your plans?"</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="322" name="page_322" id="page_322"></a></p>
+<p>"I'll stay with you as long as you need me."</p>
+
+<p>"All right; I'll take care o' you then."</p>
+
+<p>Night fell before they came in sight of the city. They were woefully
+behindhand and everything delayed them. After a hundred hesitations
+succeeded by fierce forward dashes, after switching this way and that,
+they came to a final halt in a jungle of freight cars, a chaos of
+mysterious activities, and a dense, hot, steaming atmosphere that
+oppressed and sickened the men from the mountains. Lanterns sparkled and
+looped and circled, and fierce cries arose. Engines snorted in sullen
+labor, charging to and fro, aimlessly it appeared. And all around cattle
+were bawling, sheep were pleading for release, and swine lifted their
+piercing protests against imprisonment.</p>
+
+<p>"Here we are, in Chicago!" said McCleary, who always entered the city on
+that side. "Now, fellers, watch out for yourselves. Keep your hands on
+your wallets and don't blow out the electric light."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you go to hell," was their jocular reply.</p>
+
+<p>"We're no spring chickens."</p>
+
+<p>"You go up against this town, my boy<a class="pagenum" title="323" name="page_323" id="page_323"></a>s, and you'll think you're just out
+o' the shell."</p>
+
+<p>Mose said nothing. He had the indifferent air of a man who had been
+often to the great metropolis and knew exactly what he wished to do.</p>
+
+<p>It was after twelve o'clock when the crowd of noisy cattlemen tramped
+into the Drovers' Home, glad of a safe ending of their trip. They were
+all boisterous and all of them were liquorous except Harold, who drank
+little and remained silent and uncommunicative. He had been most
+efficient in all ways and McCleary was grateful and filled with
+admiration of him. He had taken him without knowing who he was, merely
+because Reynolds requested it, but he now said:</p>
+
+<p>"Hank, you're a jim-dandy; I want you. When you've had your spree here,
+you come back with me and I'll do the right thing by ye."</p>
+
+<p>Harold thanked him in offhand phrase and went early to bed.</p>
+
+<p>He had not slept in a hotel bed since the night in Marmion when Jack was
+with him, and the wonderful charm and mystery and passion of those two
+days, so intimately wrought in with passionate memories of Mary, came
+back upon him now, keeping him awake till nearly dawn. He arose late and
+yet found only McCleary at breakfast; the other men had remained so long
+in the barroom that sleep and drunkenness came together.</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast Harold wandered out into the street. To his left a
+hundred towers of dull gray smoke rose, and prodigious buildings set in
+empty spaces were like the cliffs of red stone in the Quirino. Beyond,
+great roofs th<a class="pagenum" title="324" name="page_324" id="page_324"></a>ickened in the haze, farther on in that way lay Chicago,
+and somewhere in that welter, that tumult, that terror of the unknown,
+lived Mary.</p>
+
+<p>With McCleary he took a car that galloped like a broncho, and started
+for the very heart of the mystery. As the crowds thickened, as the cars
+they met grew more heavily laden, McCleary said:</p>
+
+<p>"My God! Where are they all goin'? How do they all make a livin'?"</p>
+
+<p>"That beats me," said Harold. "Seems as if they eat up all the grub in
+the world."</p>
+
+<p>The older man sighed. "Well, I reckon they know what they're doin', but
+I'd hate to take my chances among 'em."</p>
+
+<p>If any man had told Harold before he started that he would grow
+irresolute and weak in the presence of the city he would have bitterly
+resented it, but now the mass and weight of things hitherto unimagined
+appalled and bewildered him.</p>
+
+<p>A profound melancholy settled over his heart as the smoke and gray light
+of the metropolis closed in over his head. For half a day he did little
+more than wander up and down Clark Street. His ears, acute as a hound's,
+took hold of every sound and attempted to identify it, just as his eyes
+seized and tried to understand the forms and faces of the swarmin<a class="pagenum" title="325" name="page_325" id="page_325"></a>g
+pavements. He felt his weakness as never before and it made him sullen
+and irritable. He acknowledged also the folly of thrusting himself into
+such a world, and had it not been for a certain tenacity of purpose
+which was beyond his will, he would have returned with his companions at
+the end of their riotous week.</p>
+
+<p>Up till the day of their going he had made no effort to find Mary but
+had merely loitered in the streets in the daytime, and at night had
+visited the cheap theaters, not knowing the good from the bad. The city
+grew each day more vast and more hateful to him. The mere thought of
+being forced to earn a living in such a mad tumult made him shudder. The
+day that McCleary started West Harold went to see him off, and after
+they had shaken hands for the last time, Harold went to the ticket
+window and handed in his return coupon to the agent, saying, "I'd like
+to have you put that aside for me; I don't want to run any chances of
+losing it."</p>
+
+<p>The agent smiled knowingly. "All right, what name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Excell, 'XL,' that's my brand."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, she's right here any time you want her&mdash;inside of the thirty
+day<a class="pagenum" title="326" name="page_326" id="page_326"></a>s&mdash;time runs out on the fifteenth."</p>
+
+<p>"I savvy," said Harold as he turned away.</p>
+
+<p>He disposed his money about his person in four or five small wads, and
+so fortified, faced the city. To lose his little fund would be like
+having his pack mule give out in the desert, and he took every
+precaution against such a calamity.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing of this uncertainty and inner weakness appeared in his outward
+actions, however. No one accused him of looking like an "easy mark" or
+"a soft thing." The line of his lips and the lower of his strongly
+marked eyebrows made strangers slow of approach. He was never awkward,
+he could not be so any more than could a fox or a puma, but he was
+restless, irresolute, brooding, and gloomy.</p>
+
+<p>He moved down to the Occidental Grand, where he was able to secure a
+room on the top floor for fifty cents per day. His meals he picked up
+wherever he chanced to be when feeling hungry. When weary with his
+wanderings he often returned to his seat on the sidewalk before the
+hotel and watched the people pass, finding in this a melancholy
+pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>One evening the night clerk, a brisk young fellow, took a seat beside
+him. "This is a great corner for the girls all right. A feller can just
+about take his pick here along about eight. They're after a<a class="pagenum" title="327" name="page_327" id="page_327"></a> ticket to
+the theater and a supper. If a feller only has a few seemolleons to
+spare he can have a life worth livin'."</p>
+
+<p>Mose turned a curious glance upon him. "If you wanted to find a party
+in this town how would you go at it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'd try the directory first go-off. If I didn't find him there
+I'd write to some of his folks, if I knew any of 'em, and get a clew. If
+I didn't succeed then I'd try the police. What's his name?"</p>
+
+<p>Harold ignored this query.</p>
+
+<p>"Where could I try this directory?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's one right in there on the desk."</p>
+
+<p>"That big book?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know what that was. I thought it was a dictionary."</p>
+
+<p>The clerk shrieked with merriment. "The dictionary! Well, say, where
+have you been raised?"</p>
+
+<p>"On the range."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="328" name="page_328" id="page_328"></a></p>
+<p>"You mean cowboy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; we don't need directories out there. Does that book tell where
+everybody lives?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well no, but most everybody shows up in it somewhere," replied the
+clerk quite soberly. It had not occurred to him that anybody could live
+outside a directory.</p>
+
+<p>Harold got up and went to the book which he turned over slowly, looking
+at the names. "I don't see that this helps a man much," he said to the
+clerk who came in to help him. "Here is Henry Coleman lives at 2201
+Exeter Street. Now how is a man going to find that street?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ask a policeman," replied the clerk, much interested. "You're not used
+to towns?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not much. I can cross a mountain range easier than I can find one of
+these streets."</p>
+
+<p>Under the clerk's supervision Harold found the Yardwells, Thomas and
+James, but Mary's name did not appear. He turned to conservatories and
+located three or four, and having made out a slip of information set
+forth. The first one he found to be situat<a class="pagenum" title="329" name="page_329" id="page_329"></a>ed up several flights of
+stairs and was closed; so was the second. The third was in a brilliantly
+lighted building which towered high above the street. On the eighth
+floor in a small office a young girl with severe cast of countenance
+(and hair parted on one side) looked up from her writing and coldly
+inquired:</p>
+
+<p>"Is there anything I can do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is there a girl named Mary Yardwell in your school?" he asked with some
+effort, feeling a hot flush in his cheek&mdash;a sensation new to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think so, I'll look," replied the girl with business civility.
+She thumbed a book to see and at length replied, "No, sir, there is
+not."</p>
+
+<p>"Much obliged."</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all," replied the girl calmly, resuming her work.</p>
+
+<p>Harold went down the steps to avoid the elevator. The next place was
+oppressive with its grandeur. A tremendous wall, cold and dark (except
+for a single row of lighted windows), loomed high overhead. In the
+center of an arched opening in this wall a white hot globe flamed,
+lighting into still more dazzling cleanliness a broad flight of marble
+steps which led by a half turn to unknown regions above. Young people
+were crowding into the elevator, girls in dainty costumes predominating.
+They seemed wondrously flowerlike and birdlike to the plainsman, and
+brought back his school days at the seminary, and the time when he was
+at ease with young people like this. He had gone far from them
+now&mdash;their happy faces made him sad.</p>
+
+<p>He walked up the stairway, four flights, and came to a long hall, which
+rustled and rippled and sparkled with flights of young girls&mdash;eager,
+vivid, excited, and care-free. A few men moved about like dull-coated
+robins surrounded by orioles and canary<a class="pagenum" title="330" name="page_330" id="page_330"></a> birds.</p>
+
+<p>A bland old man with clean-shaven mouth seemed to be the proper source
+of information, and to him Harold stepped with his question.</p>
+
+<p>The old man smiled. "Miss Yardwell? Yes&mdash;she is one of our most valued
+pupils. Certainly&mdash;Willy!" he called to a small boy who carried a
+livery of startling newness, "go tell Miss Yardwell a gentleman would
+like to see her."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose you are from her country home?" said the old gentleman, who
+imagined a romance in this relation of a powerful and handsome young man
+to Miss Yardwell.</p>
+
+<p>"I am," Harold replied briefly.</p>
+
+<p>"Take a seat&mdash;she will be here presently."</p>
+
+<p>Harold took the offered seat with a sick, faint feeling at the pit of
+his stomach. The long-hoped-for event was at hand. It seemed impossible
+that Mary could be there&mdash;that she was about to stand before him. His
+mind was filled with the things he had arranged to say to her, but they
+were now in confused mass, circling and circling like the wrack of a
+boat in a river's whirlpool.</p>
+
+<p>He knew her far down the hall&mdash;he recognized the poise of her head and
+her walk, which had always been very fine and dignified. As she
+approached, the radiance of her dress, her beauty, scared him. She
+looked at him o<a class="pagenum" title="331" name="page_331" id="page_331"></a>nce and then at the clerk as if to say, "Is this the
+man?"</p>
+
+<p>Then Harold arose and said, "Well, Mary, here I am."</p>
+
+<p>For an instant she looked at him, and then a light leaped into her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Harold Excell!&mdash;" she stopped abruptly as he caught her
+outstretched hands, and she remembered the sinister association of the
+name. "Why, why, I didn't know you. Where do you come from?" Her face
+was flushed, her eyes eager, searching, restless. "Come in here," she
+said abruptly, and before he had time to reply, she led him to a little
+anteroom with a cushioned wall seat, and they took seats side by side.</p>
+
+<p>"It is impossible!" she said, still staring at him, her bosom pulsating
+with her quickened breath. "It is not you&mdash;it can't be you," she
+whispered, "Black Mose sitting here&mdash;with me&mdash;in Chicago. You're in
+danger."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't feel that way."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled for the first time, and his fine teeth shining from his
+handsome mouth led her to say:</p>
+
+<p>"Your big mustaches are gone&mdash;that's the reason I didn't know you at
+once&mdash;I don't believe I li<a class="pagenum" title="332" name="page_332" id="page_332"></a>ke you so well&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"They'll grow again," he said; "I'm in disguise." He smiled again as if
+in a joke.</p>
+
+<p>Again the thought of who he really was flamed through her mind. "What a
+life you lead! How do you happen to be here? I never expected to see you
+in a city&mdash;you don't fit into a city."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm here because you are," he replied, and the simplicity of his reply
+moved her deeply. "I came as soon as I got your letter," he went on.</p>
+
+<p>"My letter! I've written only one letter, that was soon after your visit
+to Marmion."</p>
+
+<p>"That's the one I mean. I got it nearly four years after you wrote it. I
+hope you haven't changed since that letter."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm older," she said evasively. "My father died a little over a year
+ago."</p>
+
+<p>"I know, Jack wrote me."</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you get my letter sooner?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was on the trail."</p>
+
+<p>"On the trail! You are always on the trail. Oh, the wild life you lead!
+I saw notices of you once or twice&mdash;always in some trouble." She looked
+at him smilingly but there was sadnes<a class="pagenum" title="333" name="page_333" id="page_333"></a>s in her smile.</p>
+
+<p>"It's no fault of mine," he exclaimed. "I can't stand by and see some
+poor Indian or Chinaman bullied&mdash;and besides the papers always
+exaggerate everything I do. You mustn't condemn me till you hear my side
+of these scrapes."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't condemn you at all but it makes me sad," she slowly replied.
+"You are wasting your life out there in the wild country&mdash;oh, isn't it
+strange that we should sit here? My mind is so busy with the wonder of
+it I can't talk straight. I had given up ever seeing you again&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You're not married?" he asked with startling bluntness.</p>
+
+<p>She colored hotly. "No."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you engaged?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," she replied faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you're mine!" he said with a clutch upon her wrist, a masterful
+intensity of passion in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't&mdash;please don't!" she said, "they will see you."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care if they do!" he exultingly said; then his face darkened.
+"But perhaps you are ashamed of me?"</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="334" name="page_334" id="page_334"></a></p>
+<p>"Oh, no, no&mdash;only&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't blame you if you were," he said bitterly. "I'm only a poor
+devil of a mountaineer, not fit to sit here beside you."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me about yourself," she hastened to say. "What have you been doing
+all these years?" She was determined to turn him from his savage
+arraignment of himself.</p>
+
+<p>"It won't amount to much in your eyes. It isn't worth as much to me as I
+thought it was going to be. When I found King had your promise&mdash;I hit
+the trail and I didn't care where it led, so it didn't double on itself.
+I didn't want to see or hear anything of you again. What became of
+King? Why did you turn him loose?"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyelids fell to shut out his gaze. "Well&mdash;after your visit I
+couldn't find courage to fulfill my promise&mdash;and so I asked him to
+release me&mdash;and he did&mdash;he was very kind."</p>
+
+<p>"He couldn't do anything else."</p>
+
+<p>"Go on with your story," she said hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>As they sat thus in the corner of the little sitting room, the pupils
+and guests of the institution came and went from the cloak rooms, eyeing
+the intent couple with smiling and curious glances. Who could that dark,
+handsome young man be who held Miss Yardwell with his glittering eyes?
+The girls found something very interesting in his bronzed skin and in
+the big black hat which he held in his hands.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="335" name="page_335" id="page_335"></a></p>
+<p>On his part Harold did not care&mdash;he scarcely noticed these figures.
+Their whispers were as unimportant as the sound of aspen leaves, their
+footfalls as little to be heeded as those of rabbits on the pine needles
+of his camp. Before him sat the one human being in the world who could
+command him and she was absorbed in interest of his story. He grew to a
+tense, swift, eager narration as he went on. It pleased him to see her
+glow with interest and enthusiasm over the sights and sounds of the wild
+country. At last he ended.</p>
+
+<p>"And so&mdash;I feel as though I could settle down&mdash;if I only had you. The
+trail got lonesome that last year&mdash;I didn't suppose it would&mdash;but it
+did. After three years of it I was glad to get back to my old friends,
+the Reynolds. I thought of you every day&mdash;but I didn't listen to hear
+you sing, because I thought you were King's wife&mdash;I didn't want to hear
+about you ever&mdash;but that's all past now&mdash;I am here and you are here.
+Will you go back to the mountains with me this time?"</p>
+
+<p>She looked away. "Come and see me to-morrow, I must think of this. It is
+so hard to decide&mdash;our lives are so different&mdash;&mdash;" She arose abruptly.
+"I must go now. Come into the concert, I'm going to sing." She glanced
+at him in a sad, half-smiling way. "I can't sing If I Were a Voice for
+you, but perhaps you'll like my aria better."</p>
+
+<p>As they walked along the corridor together they formed a singularly
+handsome couple. He was clad in a well-worn but neat black suit, which
+he wore with grace. His big-rimmed black hat was crushed in his left
+hand. Mary was in pale blue which became her well, and on her softly
+rounded face a thoughtful smile rested. She always walked with uncommon
+dignity, and the eyes of many young men followed her. There was
+something about her companion not quite analyzable to he<a class="pagenum" title="336" name="page_336" id="page_336"></a>r city
+friends&mdash;something alien and savage and admirable.</p>
+
+<p>Entering the hall they found it well filled, but Mary secured a seat
+near the side door for Harold, and with a smile said, "I may not see you
+till to-morrow. Here is my address. Come up early. At three. I want a
+long talk with you."</p>
+
+<p>Left to himself the plainsman looked around the hall which seemed a
+splendid and spacious one to him. It was filled with ladies in beautiful
+costumes, and with men in clawhammer coats. He had seen pictures of
+evening suits in the newspapers but never before had he been privileged
+to behold live men in them. The men seemed pale and puny for the most
+part. He had never before seen ladies in low-necked dresses and one just
+before him seemed shamelessly naked, and he gazed at her in
+astonishment. He was glad Mary had more modesty.</p>
+
+<p>The concert interested him but did not move him. The songs were
+brilliant but without meaning. He waited with fierce impatience for Mary
+to come on, and during this wait he did an inordinate amount of
+thinking. A hundred new conceptions came into his besieged
+brain&mdash;engaging but by no means confusing him. He perceived that Mary
+was already as much a part of this high-colored life as she had been of
+the life of Marmion, quite at ease, certain of herself, and the ca&ntilde;on
+between them widened swiftly. She was infinitely further away from him
+than before. His cause now<a class="pagenum" title="337" name="page_337" id="page_337"></a> entirely hopeless, he had no right to ask any
+such sacrifice of her&mdash;even if she were ready to make it.</p>
+
+<p>As she stepped out upon the stage in the glare of the light, she seemed
+as far from him as the roseate crown of snow on Sierra Blanca, and he
+shivered with a sort of awe. Her singing moved him less than her
+delicate beauty&mdash;but her voice and the pretty way she had of lifting her
+chin thrilled him just as when he sat in the little church at Marmion.
+The flowerlike texture of her skin and the exquisite grace of her hands
+plunged him into gloom.</p>
+
+<p>He did not join in the generous applause which followed&mdash;he wondered if
+she would sing If I Were a Voice for him. He felt a numbness creeping
+over his limbs and he drew his breath like one in pain. Mary looked pale
+as a lily as she returned and stood waiting for the applause to die
+away. Then out over the tense audience, straight toward him, soared her
+voice quivering with emotion&mdash;she dared to sing the old song for him.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly all sense of material things passed from the wild heart of the
+plainsman. He saw only the singer who stood in the center of a white
+flame. A soft humming roar was in his ears like the falling of rain
+drops on the leaves of maple trees. He remembered the pale little girl
+in the prison&mdash;this was not Mary&mdash;but s<a class="pagenum" title="338" name="page_338" id="page_338"></a>he had the voice and the spirit
+of Mary&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Then the song stopped! The singer went away&mdash;the white light went with
+her and the yellow glare of lamps came back. He heard the passionate
+applause&mdash;he saw Mary reappear and bow, a sad smile on her face&mdash;a smile
+which he alone could understand&mdash;her heart was full of pity for him.
+Then once more she withdrew, and staggering like one suffering from
+vertigo&mdash;the eagle-hearted youth went out of the hall and down the
+polished stairway like an outcast soul, descending from paradise into
+hell.</p>
+
+<p>That radiant singer was not for such as Black Mose.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="339" name="page_339" id="page_339"></a>
+<a name="A_DARK_DAY_WITH_A_GLOWING_SUNSET" id="A_DARK_DAY_WITH_A_GLOWING_SUNSET"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+<h3>A DARK DAY WITH A GLOWING SUNSET</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The clerk at the station window was not the kindly young man who had
+received Harold's ticket for safe keeping. He knew nothing of it and
+poked around for several minutes before finding it. After glancing
+keenly at its date he threw it down and brusquely said:</p>
+
+<p>"Time's out on this, my friend."</p>
+
+<p>Harold looked at him sharply. "Oh, no, that can't be; it's a thirty-day
+trip."</p>
+
+<p>The agent grew irritable. "I know it is; it was good to the fifteenth;
+<a class="pagenum" title="340" name="page_340" id="page_340"></a>
+this is the seventeenth; the ticket is worthless."</p>
+
+<p>Harold took up the slip of paper and stared at it in bewilderment. The
+agent was right; he had overstayed the limit and was without five
+dollars in his pocket. He turned weak with a sudden sense of his
+helplessness and the desolation of his surroundings. He was like a man
+whose horse fails him on a desert. Taking a seat on a bench in a dark
+corner of the waiting room he gave himself up to a study of the
+situation. To be alone in the Needle Range was nothing to worry about,
+but to be alone and without money in a city scared him.</p>
+
+<p>For two hours he sat there, his thoughts milling like a herd of restless
+cattle, turning aimlessly around and around in their tracks. He had
+foolishly neglected his opportunity to escape, and the mountains became
+each moment more beautiful as they swiftly receded into unattainable
+distance. He had expected to be riding back into the safe and splendid
+plains country, back to friends and familiar things, and had trusted to
+the joy of his return to soften the despair of his second failure to
+take Mary back with him.</p>
+
+<p>It was a sorrowful thing to see the young eagle in somber dream, the man
+of unhesitating action becoming introspective. Floods of intent business
+men, gay young girls, and grizzled old farmers in groups of twos and
+threes, streamed by, dimly shadowed in his reflective eyes. All these
+people had purpose and reward in their lives; he alone was a stray, a
+tramp, with no one but old Kintuck to draw him to any particular spot or
+keep him there.<a class="pagenum" title="341" name="page_341" id="page_341"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I am outside of everything," he bitterly thought. "There is nothing for
+me."</p>
+
+<p>Yes, there was Cora and there was little Pink&mdash;and then he thought of
+Mrs. Raimon, whose wealth and serenity of temper had a greater appeal
+than ever before. He knew perfectly well that a single word from him
+would bring her and her money to his rescue at once. But something arose
+in him which made the utterance of such a word impossible. As for Cora
+and the little one, they brought up a different emotion, and the thought
+of them at last aroused him to action.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll get something to do and earn money enough to go back on," he
+finally said to himself; "that's all I'm fit for, just to work by the
+day for some other man; that's my size. I've failed in everything else
+I've ever undertaken. I've no business to interfere with a girl like
+Mary. She's too high class for a hobo like me; even if I had a ranch it
+would be playing it low down on a singer like her to ask her to go out
+there. It's no use; I'm worse than a failure&mdash;I'm in a hole, and the
+first thing I've got to do is to earn money enough to get out of it."</p>
+
+<p>He was ashamed to go back to the little hotel to which he had said
+good-by with so much relief. It was too expensive for him, anyhow, and
+so he set to work to find one near by which came within his changed
+condition. He secured lodging at last in an old wooden shack on a side
+street not far from the station, where rooms could be had for twenty
+cents a night&mdash;in advance. It was a wretched place, filled with
+cockroaches and other insects, but it was at least a hole in which he
+could den <a class="pagenum" title="342" name="page_342" id="page_342"></a>up for a few nights when sleep overcame him. Thus fortified,
+he wandered forth into the city, which was becoming each moment more
+remorseless and more menacing in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Almost without knowing it, he found himself walking the broad pavement
+before the musical college wherein he found Mary. He had no definite
+hope of seeing her again, but that doorway was the one spot of light in
+all the weltering black chaos of the city, which now threatened him with
+hunger and cold. The awe and terror he felt were such as a city dweller
+would feel if left alone in a wild swamp filled with strange beasts and
+reptiles.</p>
+
+<p>After an hour's aimless walking to and fro, he returned to his bed each
+night, still revolving every conceivable plan for earning money. His
+thought turned naturally to the handling of cattle at the stockyards,
+and one morning he set forth on his quest, only to meet with a great
+surprise. He found all the world changed to him when it became known
+that he was looking for a job. When he said to the office boys, "I want
+to see the man who has charge of hiring the hands," they told him to
+wait a while in a tone of voice which he had never before encountered.
+His blood flamed hot in an instant over their calm insolence. Eventually
+he found his way into a room where a surly fat man sat writing. He
+looked up over his shoulder and snarled out:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what is it?<a class="pagenum" title="343" name="page_343" id="page_343"></a> What do you want?"</p>
+
+<p>Harold controlled himself and replied: "I want to get a job; I'm a
+cattleman from Colorado, and I'd like&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't care where you're from; we've got all the men we want. See Mr.
+White, don't come bothering me."</p>
+
+<p>Harold put his hand on the man's shoulder with the gesture of an angry
+leopard, and a yellow glare filled his eyes, from which the brutal boss
+shrank as if from a flame.</p>
+
+<p>With a powerful effort he pulled himself up short and said: "Treat the
+next cattleman that comes your way a little more decent or you'll get a
+part of your lung carried away. Good day."</p>
+
+<p>He walked out with the old familiar numbness in his body and the red
+flashes wavering before his eyes. His brain was in tumult. The free man
+of the mountain had come in contact with "the tyrant of labor," and it
+was well for the big beast that Harold was for the moment without his
+gun.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="344" name="page_344" id="page_344"></a></p>
+<p>Going back to his room he took out his revolver and loaded every
+chamber. In the set of his lips was menace to the next employer who
+dared to insult and degrade him.</p>
+
+<p>In the days that followed he wandered over the city, with eyes that took
+note of every group of workmen. He could not bring himself to go back to
+the stockyards, there was danger of his becoming a murderer if he did;
+and as he approached the various bosses of the gangs of men in the
+street, he found himself again and again without the resolution to touch
+his hat and ask for a job. Once or twice he saw others quite as brutally
+rebuffed as he had been, and it was only by turning away that he kept
+himself from taking a hand in an encounter. Once or twice, when the
+overseer happened to be a decent and sociable fellow, Harold, edging
+near, caught his eye and was able to address him on terms of equality;
+but in each case the talk which followed brought out the fact that men
+were swarming for every place; indeed Harold could see this for himself.
+Ultimately he fell into the ranks of poor, shivering, hollow-cheeked
+fellows who stood around wistfully watching the excavation of cellars or
+hanging with pathetic intentness above the handling of great iron beams
+or pile drivers.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="345" name="page_345" id="page_345"></a></p>
+<p>Work came to be a wonderful thing to possess. To put hand to a beam or a
+shovel seemed now a most desirable favor, for it meant not only warm
+food and security and shelter, but in his case it promised a return to
+the mountains which came each hour to seem the one desirable and
+splendid country in the world&mdash;so secure, so joyous, so shining, his
+heart ached with wistful love of it.</p>
+
+<p>Each night he walked over to the Lake shore, past the college and up the
+viaduct, till he could look out over the mysterious, dim expanse of
+water. It reminded him of the plains, and helped him with its lonely
+sweep and its serene majesty of reflected stars. At night he dreamed of
+the cattle and of his old companions on the trail; once he was riding
+with Talfeather and his band in the West Elk Mountains; once he was
+riding up the looping, splendid incline of the Trout Lake Trail, seeing
+the clouds gather around old Lizard Head. At other times he was back at
+the Reynolds ranch taking supper while the cattle bawled, and through
+the open door the light of the setting sun fell.</p>
+
+<p>He had written to Reynolds, asking him to buy his saddle and bridle (he
+couldn't bring himself to sell Kintuck) and each day he hoped for a
+reply. He had not stated his urgent need of money, but Reynolds would
+know. One by one every little trinket which he possessed went to pay his
+landlord for his room. He had a small nugget, which he had carried as a
+good-luck pocket-piece for many months; this he sold, and at last his
+revolvers went, and then he seemed helpless.</p>
+
+<p>No word from Reynolds came, and the worst of it was, if the money did
+come it would not now <a class="pagenum" title="346" name="page_346" id="page_346"></a>be enough to carry him back. If he had been able
+to put it with the money from his nugget and revolvers it would at least
+have taken him to Denver. But now it was too late.</p>
+
+<p>At last there came a day when he was at his last resource. He could find
+no work to do in the streets, and so, setting his teeth on his pride, he
+once more sought the stockyards and "Mr. White." It was a cold, rainy
+day, and he walked the entire distance. Weak as he was from insufficient
+food, bad air, and his depression, he could not afford to spend one cent
+for car fare.</p>
+
+<p>White turned out to be a very decent fellow, who knew nothing whatever
+of Harold's encounter with the other man. He had no work for him,
+however. He seemed genuinely regretful, and said:</p>
+
+<p>"As a matter of fact, I'm laying off men just now; you see the rush is
+pretty well over with."</p>
+
+<p>Harold went over to the Great Western Hotel and hung about the barroom,
+hoping to meet some one he knew, even though there was a certain risk of
+being recognized as Black Mose. Swarms of cattlemen filled the hotel,
+but they were mainly from Texas and Oklahoma, and no familiar f<a class="pagenum" title="347" name="page_347" id="page_347"></a>ace met
+his searching eyes. He was now so desperately homesick that he meditated
+striking one of these prosperous-looking fellows for a pass back to the
+cattle country. But each time his pride stood in the way. It would be
+necessary to tell his story and yet conceal his name&mdash;which was a very
+difficult thing to do even if he had had nothing to cover up.</p>
+
+<p>Late in the evening, faint with hunger, he started for his wretched bunk
+as a starving wolf returns, after an unsuccessful hunt, to his cold and
+cheerless den. His money was again reduced to a few coppers, and for a
+week he had allowed himself only a small roll three times a day. "My
+God! if I was only among the In-jins," he said savagely; "<i>they</i>
+wouldn't see a man starve, not while they had a sliver of meat to share
+with him; but these Easterners don't care; I'm no more to them than a
+snake or a horned toad."</p>
+
+<p>The knowledge that Mary's heart would bleed with sorrow if she knew of
+his condition nerved him to make another desperate trial. "I'll try
+again to-morrow," he said through his set teeth.</p>
+
+<p>On the way home his curious fatalism took a sudden turn, and a feeling
+that Reynolds' letter surely awaited him made his heart glow. It was
+impossibl<a class="pagenum" title="348" name="page_348" id="page_348"></a>e that he should actually be without a cent of money, and the
+thought filled his brain with an irrational exaltation which made him
+forget the slime in which his feet slipped. He planned to start on the
+limited train. "I'll go as far from this cursed hole of a city as I
+can," he said; "I'll get out where men don't eat each other to keep
+alive. He'll certainly send me twenty dollars. The silver on the bridle
+is worth that alone. Mebbe he'll understand I'm broke, and send me
+fifty."</p>
+
+<p>He became so sure of this at last that he stepped into a saloon and
+bought a big glass of brandy to ward off a chill which he felt coming
+upon him, and helped himself to a lunch at the counter. When he arose
+his limbs felt weak and a singular numbness had spread over his whole
+body. He had never been drunk in his life&mdash;but he knew the brandy had
+produced this effect.</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't have taken it on an empty stomach," he muttered to himself
+as he dragged his heavy limbs out of the door.</p>
+
+<p>When he came fairly to his senses again he was lying in his little room
+and the slatternly chambermaid was looking in at him.</p>
+
+<p>"You aind seek alretty?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Go away," he said with a scowl; "you've bothered me too much."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="349" name="page_349" id="page_349"></a></p>
+<p>"You peen trinken&mdash;aind it. Chim help you up de stairs last nide."</p>
+
+<p>"What time is it?" he asked, with an effort to recall where he had been.</p>
+
+<p>"Tweluf o'clock," she replied, still looking at him keenly, genuinely
+concerned about him.</p>
+
+<p>"Go away. I must get up." As she went toward the door he sat up for a
+moment, but a terrible throbbing pain just back of his eyes threw him
+back upon his pillow as if he had met the blow of a fist. "Oh, I'm used
+up&mdash;I can't do it," he groaned, pressing his palms to his temples. "I'm
+burning up with fever."</p>
+
+<p>The girl came back. "Dat's vat I tought. You dond look ride. Your mudder
+vouldn't known you since you gome here. Pedder you send for your folks
+alretty."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, go out&mdash;let me alone. Yes, I'll do it. I'll get up soon."</p>
+
+<p>When the girl returned with the proprietor of the hotel Harold was far
+past rational speech. He was pounding furiously on the door, shoutin<a class="pagenum" title="350" name="page_350" id="page_350"></a>g,
+"Let me out!" When they tried to open the door they found it locked. The
+proprietor, a burly German, set his weight against it and tore the lock
+off.</p>
+
+<p>Harold was dangerously quiet as he said: "You'd better let me out o'
+here. Them greasers are stampeding the cattle. It's a little trick of
+theirs."</p>
+
+<p>"Dot's all right; you go back to bed; I'll look out for dot greaser
+pisness," said the landlord, who thought him drunk.</p>
+
+<p>"You let me out or I'll break you in two," the determined man replied,
+and a tremendous struggle took place.</p>
+
+<p>Ultimately Harold was vanquished, and Schmidt, piling his huge bulk on
+the worn-out body of the young man, held him until his notion changed.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you ever have a tree burn up in your head?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Pring a policeman," whispered Schmidt to the girl, "and a doctor. De
+man is grazy mit fevers; he aindt trunk."</p>
+
+<p>When the officer came in Harold looked at him with sternly steady eyes.
+"See here, cap, don't you try any funny business with me. I won't stand
+it; I'll shoot with you for dollars or doughnuts."<a class="pagenum" title="351" name="page_351" id="page_351"></a></p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter&mdash;jim-jams?" asked the officer indifferently.</p>
+
+<p>"No," replied Schmidt, "I tondt pelief it&mdash;he's got some fever onto
+him."</p>
+
+<p>The policeman felt his pulse. "He's certainly hot enough. Who is he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Hank Jones."</p>
+
+<p>"That's a lie&mdash;I'm 'Black Mose,'" said Harold.</p>
+
+<p>The policeman smiled. "'Black Mose' was killed in San Juan last summer."</p>
+
+<p>Harold received this news gravely. "Sorry for him, but I'm the man.
+You'll find my name on my revolver, the big one&mdash;not the little one. I'm
+all the 'Black Mose' there is. If you'll give me a chance I'll rope a
+steer with you for blood or whisky; I'm thirsty."</p>
+
+<p>"Well now," said the policeman, "you be quiet till the doctor comes, and
+I'll go through your valise." After a hasty examination he said: "Damned
+little here, and no revolvers of any kind. Does he eat here?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, he only hires this room."</p>
+
+<p>"Mebbe he don't eat anywhere; he looks to me like a hungry man."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="352" name="page_352" id="page_352"></a></p>
+<p>"Dot's what I think," said the maid. "I'll go pring him some soup."</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner calmly said: "Too late now; my stomach is all dried up."</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't you any folks?" the policeman asked.</p>
+
+<p>Harold seemed to pause for thought. "I believe I have, but I can't
+think. Mary could tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"Who's Mary?"</p>
+
+<p>"What's that to you. Bring me some water&mdash;I'm burning dry."</p>
+
+<p>"Now keep quiet," said the policeman; "you're sick as a horse."</p>
+
+<p>When the doctor came the policeman turned Harold over to him. "This is a
+case for St. Luke's Hospital, I guess," he said as he went out.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor briskly administered a narcotic as being the easiest and
+simplest way to handle a patient who seemed friendless and penniless.
+"The man is simply delirious with fever. He looks like a man emaciated
+from lack of food. What do you know about him?"</p>
+
+<p>The landlord confessed he knew but little.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor resumed: "Of course you can't attend to him here. I'll inform
+the hospital authorities at once. Meanwhile, communicate with his<a class="pagenum" title="353" name="page_353" id="page_353"></a>
+friends if you can. He'll be all right for the present."</p>
+
+<p>This valuable man was hardly gone before a lively young fellow with a
+smoothly shaven, smiling face slipped in. He went through every pocket
+of Harold's clothing, and found a torn envelope with the name "Excell"
+written on it, and a small photo of a little girl with the words, "To
+Mose from Cora." The young man's smile became a chuckle as he saw these
+things, and he said to himself: "Nothing here to identify him, eh?"
+Then to the landlord he said; "I'm from The Star office. If anything new
+turns up I wish you'd call up Harriman, that's me, and let me in on it."</p>
+
+<p>The hospital authorities were not informed, or paid no attention to the
+summons, and Harold was left to the care of the chambermaid, who did her
+poor best to serve him.</p>
+
+<p>The Star next morning contained two columns of closely printed matter
+under the caption, "Black Mose, the Famous Dead Shot, Dying in a West
+Side Hotel. After Years of Adventure on the Trail, the Famous Desperado
+Succumbs to Old John Barley Corn." The article recounted all the deeds
+which had been ascribed to Harold and added a few entirely new ones. His
+marvelous skill with the revolver was referred to, and his defense of
+the red men and others in distress was touched upon so eloquently that
+the dying man was lifted to a romantic height of hardihood and
+gallantry. A fancy picture of him took nearly a quarter of a page and
+was surrounded by a corona of revolvers each spouting flame.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Raimon seated at breakfast in the lofty dining room of her hotel,
+languidly unfolded The Star, gave one glance, and opened the paper so
+quickly and nervously her cup and saucer fell to the floor.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="354" name="page_354" id="page_354"></a></p>
+<p>"My God! Can that be true? I must see him." As she read the article she
+carried on a rapid thinking. "How can I find him? I must see that
+reporter; he will know." She was a woman of decision. She arose quickly
+and returned to her room. "Call a carriage for me, quick!" she said to
+the bell boy who answered to her call. "No name is given to the hotel,
+but The Star will know. Good Heavens! if he should die!" Her florid face
+was set and white as she took her seat in the cab. "To The Star
+office&mdash;quick!" she said to the driver, and there was command in the
+slam of the door.</p>
+
+<p>To the city editor she abruptly said: "I want to find the man who wrote
+this article on 'Black Mose.' I want to find the hotel where he is."</p>
+
+<p>The editor was enormously interested at once. "Harriman is on the night
+force and at home how, but I'll see what I can do." By punching various
+bells and speaking into mysteriously ramifying tubes he was finally able
+to say: "The man is at a little hotel just across the river. I think it
+is called the St. Nicholas. It isn't a nice place; you'd better take
+some one with you. Mind you, I don't vouch for the truth of that
+article; the boy may be mistaken about it."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Raimon turned on her heel and vanished. She had her information and
+acted upon it. She was never finer than when she knelt at Harold's
+bedside and laid her hand gently on his forehead. She could not speak
+for a moment, and when her eyes cleared of their tears and she<a class="pagenum" title="355" name="page_355" id="page_355"></a> felt the
+wide, dry eyes of the man searching her, a spasm of pain contracted her
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>"He don't know me!" she cried to the slatternly maid, who stood watching
+the scene with deep sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>Harold spoke petulantly: "Go away and tell Mary I want her. It costs too
+much for her to sing, or else she'd come. These people won't let me get
+up, but Reynolds will be here soon and then something will rip wide
+open. They took my guns and my saddle. If I had old Kintuck here I could
+ride to Mary. She said she'd sing for me every Sunday. Look here, I want
+ice on my head. This pillow has been heated. I don't want a hot
+pillow&mdash;and I don't want my arms covered. Say, I wish you'd send word to
+old Jack. I don't know where he is, but he'd come&mdash;so will Reynolds.
+These policemen will have a hot time keeping me here after they come.
+It's too low here, I must take Mary away&mdash;it's healthier in the
+mountains. It ain't so hot&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Out of this stream of loosely uttered words the princess caught and held
+little more than the names "Jack" and "Mary."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="356" name="page_356" id="page_356"></a></p>
+<p>"Who is Jack?" she softly asked.</p>
+
+<p>Harold laughed. "Don't you know old freckle-faced Jack? Why, I'd know
+Jack in the dark of a cave. He's my friend&mdash;my old chum. He didn't
+forget me when they sent me to jail. Neither did Mary. She sung for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you tell me Mary's name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it's just Mary, Mary Yardwell."</p>
+
+<p>"Where does she live?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, don't bother me," he replied irritably. "What do you want to know
+for?"</p>
+
+<p>The princess softly persisted, and he said: "She lives in the East. In
+Chicago. It's too far off to find her. It takes five days to get down
+there on a cattle train, and then you have to look her up in a
+directory, and then trail her down. I couldn't find her."</p>
+
+<p>The princess took down Mary's name and sent a messenger to try to find
+the address of this woman who was more to the delirious man than all the
+rest of the world.</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="357" name="page_357" id="page_357"></a></p>
+<p>As he tossed and muttered she took possession of the house. "Is this the
+worst room you have? Get the best bed in the house ready. I want this
+man to have the cleanest room you have. Hurry! Telephone to the Western
+Palace and ask Doctor Sanborn to come at once&mdash;tell him Mrs. Raimon
+wants him."</p>
+
+<p>Under her vigorous action one of the larger rooms was cleared out and
+made ready, and when the doctor came Harold was moved, under his
+personal supervision. "I shall stay here till he is out of danger," she
+said to the doctor as he was leaving, "and please ask my maid to go out
+and get some clean bed linen and bring it down here at once&mdash;and tell
+her to send Mr. Doris here, won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>The doctor promised to attend to these matters at once.</p>
+
+<p>She sat by the bedside of the sufferer bathing his hands and face as if
+he were a child, talking to him gently with a mother's grave cadences.
+He was now too weak to resist any command, and took his medicine at a
+gulp like a young robin.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Late in the afternoon as Mrs. Raimon returned from an errand to the
+street she was amazed to find a <a class="pagenum" title="358" name="page_358" id="page_358"></a>tall and handsome girl sitting beside
+the sick man's bed holding his two cold white hands in both of hers.
+There was a singular and thrilling serenity in the stranger's face&mdash;a
+composure that was exaltation, while Harold, with half-closed eyelids,
+lay as if in awe, gazing up into the woman's face.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Raimon waited until Harold's eyes closed like a sleepy child's and
+the watcher arose&mdash;then she drew near and timidly asked:</p>
+
+<p>"Are you Mary?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," was the simple reply.</p>
+
+<p>The elder woman's voice trembled. "I am glad you've come. He has called
+for you incessantly. You must let me help you&mdash;I am Mrs. Raimon, of
+Wagon Wheel&mdash;I knew him there."</p>
+
+<p>Mary understood the woman's humble attitude, but she did not encourage a
+caress. She coldly replied: "I shall be very grateful. He is very ill,
+and I shall not leave him till his friends come."</p>
+
+<p>She thought immediately of Jack, and sent a telegram saying: "Harold is
+here ill&mdash;come at once." She did not know where to reach Mr. Excell, so
+could only wait to consult Jack.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Raimon remained with her and was so unobtrusively ready to do good
+that Mary's heart softened toward her&mdash;though she did not like her
+florid beauty and her display of jewels.</p>
+
+<p>A telegram from Jack came during the evening: "Do all you can for
+Harold. Will reach him to-night."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="359" name="page_359" id="page_359"></a></p>
+<p>He came in at eleven o'clock, his face knotted into anxious lines. They
+smoothed out as his eyes fell upon Mary, who met him in the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm glad to see you here," he said brokenly. "How is he&mdash;is there
+any hope?"</p>
+
+<p>In his presence Mary's composure gave way. "O Jack! If he should die
+now&mdash;&mdash;" She laid her head against his sturdy shoulder and for a moment
+shook with nervous weakness. Almost before he could speak she recovered
+herself. "He only knew me for a few moments. He's delirious again. The
+doctor is with him&mdash;oh, I can't bear to hear him rave! It is awful! He
+calls for me, and yet does not know me. O Jack, it makes my heart ache
+so, he is so weak! He came to see me&mdash;and then went away&mdash;I didn't know
+where he had gone. And all the time he was starving here. O God! It
+would be too dreadful&mdash;if he should die!"</p>
+
+<p>"We won't let him die!" he stoutly replied. "I'm going in to see him."</p>
+
+<p>Together they went in. The doctor, intently studying his patient, sat
+motionless and silent. He was a young man with a serious face, but his
+movements were quick, silent, and full of decision. He looked up and
+made a motion, stopping them where they were.</p>
+
+<p>Out of a low mutter at last Harold's words grew distinct: "I don't
+care&mdash;but the water is cold as ice&mdash;I wouldn't put a cayuse into it&mdash;let
+alone Kintuck. Should be a bridge here somewhere."</p>
+<p><a class="pagenum" title="360" name="page_360" id="page_360"></a></p>
+<p>"Oh, he's on the trail again!" said Mary. "Harold, don't you know me?"
+She bent over to him again and put forth the utmost intensity of her
+will to recall him. "I am here, Harold, don't you see me?"</p>
+
+<p>His head ceased to roll and he looked at her with eyes that made her
+heart grow sick&mdash;then a slow, faint smile came to his lips. "Yes&mdash;I know
+you, Mary&mdash;but the river is between us, and it's swift and cold, and
+Kintuck is thin and hungry&mdash;I can't cross now!"</p>
+
+<p>"Doctor," said Jack, as the physician was leaving, "what are the
+chances?"</p>
+
+<p>The doctor's voice carried conviction: "Oh, he'll pull through&mdash;he has
+one of the finest bodies I ever saw." He smiled. "He'll cross the river
+all right&mdash;and land on our side."</p>
+
+<p>Two days later Mr. Excell, big and brown, his brow also knotted with
+anxiety, entered the room, and fell on his knees and threw his long arm
+over the helpless figure beneath the coverlet. "Harry! My boy, do you
+know me?"</p>
+
+<p>Harold looked up at him with big staring eyes and slowly put out his
+hand. "Sure thing! And I'm not dead yet, father. I'll soon be all right.
+I've got Mary with me. She can cure me&mdash;if the doctor can't."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke slowly, but there was will behind the voice. His wasted face
+had a gentleness that was most moving to the father. He could not look
+at the pitiful wreck of his once proud and fearless boy withou<a class="pagenum" title="361" name="page_361" id="page_361"></a>t weeping,
+and being mindful of Harold's prejudice against sentiment, he left the
+room to regain his composure. To Mary Mr. Excell said: "I don't know
+you&mdash;but you are a noble woman. I give you a father's gratitude. Won't
+you tell me who you are?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am Mary Yardwell," she replied in her peculiarly succinct speech. "My
+home was in Marmion, but I attended school in your village. I sang in
+your church for a little while."</p>
+
+<p>His face lighted up. "I remember you&mdash;a pale, serious little girl. Did
+you know my son there?"</p>
+
+<p>She looked away for a moment. "I sang for him&mdash;when he was in jail," she
+replied. "I belonged to the Rescue Band."</p>
+
+<p>A shadow fell again upon the father's face.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not know it," he said, feeling something mysterious
+here&mdash;something which lay outside his grasp. "Have you seen him
+meanwhile? I suppose you must have done so."</p>
+
+<p>"Once, in Marmion, some four years ago."<a class="pagenum" title="362" name="page_362" id="page_362"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Ah! Now I understand his visit to Marmion," said Mr. Excell, with a
+sudden smile. "I thought he came to see Jack and me. He really came to
+see you. Am I right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she replied. "He wanted me to go back with him, but
+I&mdash;I&mdash;couldn't do so."</p>
+
+<p>"I know&mdash;I know," he replied hastily. "He had no right to ask it of
+you&mdash;poor boy."</p>
+
+<p>"It seems now as though I had no right to refuse. I might have helped
+him. If he should die now there would be an incurable ache here"&mdash;she
+lifted her hand to her throat; "so long as I lived I should not forgive
+myself."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a class="pagenum" title="363" name="page_363" id="page_363"></a>
+<a name="CONCLUSION" id="CONCLUSION"></a>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+<h3>CONCLUSION</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>As he crawled slowly back to life and clear thinking, Harold's wild
+heart was filled with a peace and serenity of emotion such as it had not
+known since childhood. He was like a boy in a careless dream,
+forecasting nothing, remembering nothing, content to see Mary come and
+go about the room, glad of the sound of her skirts, thrilling under the
+gentle pressure of her hand.</p>
+
+<p>She, on her part, could not realize any part of his dark fame as she
+smiled down into his big yellow-brown eyes which were as pathetic and
+wistful as those of a gentle animal.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Raimon spoke of this. "I saw 'Black Mose' as he stood in the
+streets of Wagon Wheel, the most famous dead-shot in the State. I can't
+realize that this is the same man. He's gentle as a babe now; he was as
+terrible and as beautiful as a tiger then."</p>
+
+<p>Reynolds sent fifty dollars with an apology for the delay and Mr. Excell
+offered his slender purse, but Mrs. Raimon said: "I'll attend to this
+matter of expense. Let me do that little for him&mdash;please!" And he gave
+<a class="pagenum" title="364" name="page_364" id="page_364"></a>
+way, knowing her great wealth.</p>
+
+<p>But all these things began at last to trouble the proud heart of the
+sick man, and as he grew stronger his hours of quiet joy began to be
+broken by disquieting calculations of his indebtedness to Mrs. Raimon as
+well as to Mary and Jack. He wished to be free of all obligations, even
+gratitude. He insisted on his father's return to his pastorate&mdash;which he
+did at the end of the week.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Mary and Jack conspired for the Eagle's good. Together they
+planned to remove him to some fairer quarter of the city. Together they
+read and discussed the letters which poured in upon them from theatrical
+managers, Wild West shows, music halls, and other similar enterprises,
+and from romantic girls and shrewd photographers, and every other
+conceivable kind of crank. The offers of the music halls Jack was
+inclined to consider worth while. "He'd be a great success there, or as
+a dead-shot in a Wild West show. They pay pretty well, too."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't<a class="pagenum" title="365" name="page_365" id="page_365"></a> believe he'd care to do anything like that," Mary quietly
+replied.</p>
+
+<p>They both found that he cared to do nothing which involved his remaining
+in the East. As his eyes grew brighter, his longing for the West came
+back. He lifted his arms above his quilts with the action of the eaglet
+who meditates leaping from the home ledge. It was a sorrowful thing to
+see this powerful young animal made thin and white and weak by fever,
+but his spirit was indomitable.</p>
+
+<p>"He must be moved to the West before he will fully recover," said the
+doctor, and to this Mrs. Raimon replied:</p>
+
+<p>"Very well, doctor. You name the day when it is safe and we'll go. I'll
+have a special car, if necessary, but first of all he must go to a good
+hotel. Can't he be moved now?"</p>
+
+<p>Outwardly Mary acknowledged all the kindness of this rich and powerful
+woman, but inwardly she resented her intimacy. Drawing all her little
+store of ready money she quietly began paying off the bills. When all
+was settled she took a seat beside Harold one day when they were alone
+and laying one strong, warm hand on his thin, white arm, she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Harold, the doctor says you can be moved from here, and so&mdash;you must
+give me the right to take you home with me."</p>
+
+<p>There was a piercing pathos in his wan smile as he replied, "All right,
+you're the boss. It's a pretty hard come down, though. I thought<a class="pagenum" title="366" name="page_366" id="page_366"></a> once
+I'd come back after you in a private car. If you stand by me I may be a
+cattle king yet. There's a whole lot of fight in me still&mdash;you watch me
+and see."</p>
+
+<p>The next day he was moved to a private hotel on the north side, and Mary
+breathed a sigh of deep relief as she saw him sink back into his soft
+bed in a clean and sunny room. He, with a touch of his old fire, said:
+"This sure beats a holler log, but all the same I'll be glad to see the
+time when I can camp on my saddle again."</p>
+
+<p>Mary only smiled and patted him like a mother caressing a babe. "I'll
+hate to have you go and leave me&mdash;now."</p>
+
+<p>"No danger of that, Mary. We camp down on the same blanket from this
+on."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Excell came on to marry them, but Jack sent his best wishes by mail;
+he could not quite bring himself to see Mary give herself away&mdash;even to
+his hero.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Raimon took her defeat with most touching grace. "You're right,"
+she said. "He's yours&mdash;I know that perfectly well, but you must let me
+help him to make a start. It won't hurt him, and it'll please me. I have
+a ranch, I have mines, I could give him something to do till he <a class="pagenum" title="367" name="page_367" id="page_367"></a>got on
+his feet again, if you'd let me, and I hope you won't deny me a pleasure
+that will carry no obligation with it."</p>
+
+<p>She was powerfully moved as she went in to say good-by to him. He was
+sitting in a chair, but looked very pale and weak. She said: "Mose,
+you're in luck; you've got a woman who'll do you good. She's loyal and
+she's strong, and there's nothing further for me to do&mdash;unless you let
+me help you. See here, why not let me help you get a start; what do you
+say?"</p>
+
+<p>Harold felt the deep sincerity of the woman's regard and he said simply:</p>
+
+<p>"All right; let me know what you find, and I'll talk it over with Mary."</p>
+
+<p>She seized his thin hand in both hers and pressed it hard, the tears
+creeping down her cheeks. "You're a good boy, Mose; you're the kind that
+are good to women in ways they don't like, sometimes. I hope you'll
+forget the worst of me and remember only the best. I don't think she
+knows anything about me; if she hears anything, tell her the truth, but
+say I was better than women think."</p>
+
+<p>One day about ten days later a bulky letter came, addressed to "Mose
+Excell." It was from Mrs. Raimon, but contained a letter from Reynolds,
+who wrote:</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot"><a class="pagenum" title="368" name="page_368" id="page_368"></a>
+"Yesterday a young Cheyenne came ridin' in here inquirin' for
+you.&nbsp; I told him you was in Chicago, sick. He brought a
+message from old Talfeather who is gettin' scared about the
+cattlemen. He says they're crowdin' onto his reservation, and
+he wants you to come and help him. He wants you to talk with
+them and to go to Washington and see the Great Father. He
+sent this medicine and said it was to draw you to him. He
+said he was blind and his heart was heavy because he feared
+trouble. I went up to Wagon Wheel and saw the princess, who
+has a big pull. She said she'd write you. Kintuck is well but
+getting lazy."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Raimon wrote excitedly:</p>
+
+<p class="blockquot">"DEAR FRIEND: Here is work for you to do. The agent at Sand
+Lake has asked to be relieved and I have written Senator
+Miller to have you appointed. He thought the idea
+excellent. We both believe your presence will quiet the
+cattlemen as well as Talfeather and his band. Will you
+accept?"</p>
+
+<p>As Harold read, his body uplifted and his eyes grew stern. "See here,
+Mary, what do you think of this?" and he read the letter and explained
+the situation. She, too, became tense with interest, but, being a woman
+who thought before she spoke, she remained silent.</p>
+
+<p>Harold, after a mom<a class="pagenum" title="369" name="page_369" id="page_369"></a>ent, arose from his chair, gaunt and unsteady as he
+was. "That's what I'm fitted for, Mary. That solves my problem. I know
+these cattlemen, they know me. I am the white chief of Talfeather's
+people. If you can stand it to live there with me, Mary, I will go. We
+can do good; the women need some one like you to teach 'em to do
+things."</p>
+
+<p>Mary's altruistic nature began to glow. "Do you think so, Harold? Could
+I be of use?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of use? Why, Mary, those poor squaws and their children need you worse
+than they need a God. I know, for I've lived among 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I will go," she said, and out of the gray cloud the sun broke and
+shone from the west across the great lonely plains.</p>
+
+<p>Again "Black Mose" rode up the almost invisible ascent toward the Rocky
+Mountains. Again he saw the mighty snow peaks loom over the faintly
+green swells of the plain, but this time he left nothing behind. The
+aching hunger was gone out of his heart for beside him Mary sat, eager
+as he to see the wondrous mountain land whose trails to her were script
+of epic tales, and whose peaks were monuments to great dead beasts and
+mysterious peoples long since swept away by the ruthless march of the
+white men.</p>
+
+<p>If she had doubts or hesitations she concealed them, for hers was a
+nature fitted for such sacrifice as this&mdash;and besides, each day
+increased her love for the singular and daring soul of Harold Excell.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Eagle's Heart, by Hamlin Garland
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+</body>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Eagle's Heart, by Hamlin Garland
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Eagle's Heart
+
+Author: Hamlin Garland
+
+Release Date: April 29, 2007 [EBook #21255]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EAGLE'S HEART ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: HE DREW REIN AND LOOKED AT THE GREAT RANGE TO
+THE SOUTHEAST.]
+
+THE EAGLE'S HEART
+
+HAMLIN GARLAND
+SUNSET EDITION
+
+HARPER & BROTHERS
+NEW YORK AND LONDON
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY HAMLIN GARLAND
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+CONTENTS
+
+PART I
+
+    I.--HIS YOUTH                                     1
+   II.--HIS LOVE AFFAIRS                             11
+  III.--THE YOUNG EAGLE STRIKES                      23
+   IV.--THE TRIAL                                    35
+    V.--THE EAGLE'S EYES GROW DIM                    51
+   VI.--THE CAGE OPENS                               72
+  VII.--ON THE WING                                  83
+ VIII.--THE UPWARD TRAIL                             96
+   IX.--WAR ON THE CANNON BALL                      123
+    X.--THE YOUNG EAGLE MOUNTS                      143
+   XI.--ON THE ROUND-UP                             157
+
+PART II
+
+  XII.--THE YOUNG EAGLE FLUTTERS THE DOVE-COTE      175
+ XIII.--THE YOUNG EAGLE DREAMS OF A MATE            199
+  XIV.--THE YOUNG EAGLE RETURNS TO HIS EYRIE        220
+
+PART III
+
+   XV.--THE EAGLE COMPLETES HIS CIRCLE              233
+  XVI.--AGAIN ON THE ROUND-UP                       250
+ XVII.--MOSE RETURNS TO WAGON WHEEL                 265
+XVIII.--THE EAGLE GUARDS THE SHEEP                  283
+  XIX.--THE EAGLE ADVENTURES INTO STRANGE LANDS     316
+   XX.--A DARK DAY WITH A GLOWING SUNSET            339
+  XXI.--CONCLUSION                                  363
+
+------------------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+THE EAGLE'S HEART
+
+PART I
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+HIS YOUTH
+
+
+Harold was about ten years of age when his father, the Rev. Mr. Excell,
+took the pastorate of the First Church in Rock River. Many of the people
+in his first congregation remarked upon "the handsome lad." The clear
+brown of his face, his big yellow-brown eyes, his slender hands, and the
+grace of his movements gave him distinction quite aside from that
+arising from his connection with the minister.
+
+Rev. John Excell was a personable man himself. He was tall and broad
+shouldered, with abundant brown hair and beard, and a winning smile. His
+eyes were dark and introspective, but they could glow like sunlit topaz,
+or grow dim with tears, as his congregation had opportunity to observe
+during this first sermon--but they were essentially sad eyes.
+
+Mrs. Excell, a colorless little woman who retained only the dim outline
+of her girlhood's beauty, sat gracelessly in her pew, but her
+stepdaughter, Maud, by her side, was carrying to early maturity a dainty
+grace united with something strong and fine drawn from her father. She
+had his proud lift of the head.
+
+"What a fine family!" whispered the women from pew to pew under cover of
+the creaking fans.
+
+In the midst of the first sermon, a boy seated in front of Harold gave a
+shrill whoop of agony and glared back at the minister's son with
+distorted face, and only the prompt action on the part of both mothers
+prevented a clamorous encounter over the pew. Harold had stuck the head
+of a pin in the toe of his boot and jabbed his neighbor in the calf of
+the leg. It was an old trick, but it served well.
+
+The minister did not interrupt his reading, but a deep flush of hot
+blood arose to his face, and the lids of his eyes dropped to shut out
+the searching gaze of his parishioners, as well as to close in a red
+glare of anger. From that moment Harold was known as "that preacher's
+boy," the intention being to convey by significant inflections and a
+meaning smile that he filled the usual description of a minister's
+graceless son.
+
+Harold soon became renowned in his own world. He had no hard-fought
+battles, though he had scores of quarrels, for he scared his opponents
+by the suddenness and the intensity of his rage, which was fairly
+demoniacal in fury.
+
+"You touch me and I'll _kill you_," he said in a low voice to the fat
+boy whose leg he had jabbed, and his bloodless face and blazing eyes
+caused the boy to leap frenziedly away. He carried a big knife, his
+playmates discovered, and no one, not even youths grown to man's
+stature, cared to attempt violence with him. One lad, struck with a
+stone from his cunning right hand, was carried home in a carriage.
+Another, being thrown by one convulsive effort, fell upon his arm,
+breaking it at the elbow. In less than a week every boy in Rock River
+knew something of Harry Excell's furious temper, and had learned that it
+was safer to be friend than enemy to him.
+
+He had his partisans, too, for his was a singularly attractive nature
+when not enraged. He was a hearty, buoyant playmate, and a good scholar
+five days out of six, but he demanded a certain consideration at all
+times. An accidental harm he bore easily, but an intentional
+injury--that was flame to powder.
+
+The teachers in the public school each had him in turn, as he ran
+rapidly up the grades. They all admired him unreservedly, but most of
+them were afraid of him, so that he received no more decisive check than
+at home. He was subject to no will but his own.
+
+The principal was a kind and scholarly old man, who could make a boy cry
+with remorse and shame by his Christlike gentleness, and Harold also
+wept in his presence, but that did not prevent him from fairly knocking
+out the brains of the next boy who annoyed him. In his furious, fickle
+way he often defended his chums or smaller boys, so that it was not easy
+to condemn him entirely.
+
+There were rumors from the first Monday after Harold's pin-sticking
+exploit that the minister had "lively sessions" with his boy. The old
+sexton privately declared that he heard muffled curses and shrieks and
+the sound of blows rising from the cellar of the parsonage--but this
+story was hushed on his lips. The boy admittedly needed thrashing, but
+the deacons of the church would rather not have it known that the
+minister used the rod himself.
+
+The rumors of the preacher's stern measures softened the judgment of
+some of the townspeople, who shifted some of the blame of the son to the
+shoulders of the sire. Harry called his father "the minister," and
+seemed to have no regard for him beyond a certain respect for his
+physical strength. When boys came by and raised the swimming sign he
+replied, "Wait till I ask 'the minister.'" This was considered "queer"
+in him.
+
+He ignored his stepmother completely, but tormented his sister Maud in a
+thousand impish ways. He disarranged her neatly combed hair. He threw
+mud on her dress and put carriage grease on her white stockings on
+picnic day. He called her "chiny-thing," in allusion to her pretty round
+cheeks and clear complexion, and yet he loved her and would instantly
+fight for her, and no one else dared tease her or utter a word to annoy
+her. She was fourteen years of age when Mr. Excell came to town, and at
+sixteen considered herself a young lady. As suitors began to gather
+about her, they each had a vigorous trial to undergo with Harold; it was
+indeed equivalent to running the gantlet. Maud was always in terror of
+him on the evenings when she had callers.
+
+One day he threw a handful of small garter snakes into the parlor where
+his sister sat with young Mr. Norton. Maud sprang to a chair screaming
+wildly, while her suitor caught the snakes and threw them from the
+window just as the minister's tall form darkened the doorway.
+
+"What is the matter?" he asked.
+
+Maud, eager to shield Harry, said: "Oh, nothing much, papa--only one of
+Harry's jokes."
+
+"Tell me," said the minister to the young man, who, with a painful smile
+on his face, stammeringly replied:
+
+"Harry thought he'd scare me, that's all. It didn't amount to much."
+
+"I insist on knowing the truth, Mr. Norton," the minister sternly
+insisted.
+
+As Norton described the boy's action, Mr. Excell's face paled and his
+lips set close. His eyes became terrible to meet, and the beaded sweat
+of his furious anger stood thick on his face. "Thank you," he said with
+ominous calmness, and turning without another word, went to his study.
+
+His wife, stealing up, found the door locked and her husband walking the
+floor like a roused tiger. White and shaking with a sort of awe, Mrs.
+Excell ran down to the kitchen where Harold crouched and said:
+
+"Harold, dear, you'd better go out to Mr. Burns' right away."
+
+Harold understood perfectly what she meant and fled. For hours neither
+Mrs. Excell nor Maud spoke above a whisper. When the minister came down
+to tea he made no comment on Harry's absence. He had worn out his
+white-hot rage, but was not yet in full control of himself.
+
+He remained silent, and kept his eyes on his plate during the meal.
+
+The last time he had punished Harold the scene narrowly escaped a tragic
+ending. When the struggle ended Harold lay on the floor, choked into
+insensibility.
+
+When he had become calm and Harold was sleeping naturally in his own
+bed, the father knelt at his wife's knee and prayed God for grace to
+bear his burden, and said:
+
+"Mary, keep us apart when we are angry. He is like me: he has my
+fiendish temper. No matter what I say or do, keep us apart till I am
+calm. By God's grace I will never touch his flesh again in anger."
+
+Nevertheless he dared not trust himself to refer to the battles which
+shamed them all. The boy was deeply repentant, but uttered no word of
+it. And so they grew ever more silent and vengeful in their intercourse.
+
+Harold early developed remarkable skill with horses, and once rode in
+the races at the County Fair, to the scandal of the First Church. He not
+only won the race, but was at once offered a great deal of money to go
+with the victor to other races. To his plea the father, with deep-laid
+diplomacy, replied:
+
+"Very well; study hard this year and next year you may go." But the boy
+was just at the age to take on weight rapidly, and by the end of the
+year was too heavy, and the owner of the horse refused to repeat his
+offer. Harold did not fail to remark how he had been cheated, but said
+nothing more of his wish to be a jockey.
+
+He was also fond of firearms, and during his boyhood his father tried in
+every way to keep weapons from him, and a box in his study contained a
+contraband collection of his son's weapons. There was a certain pathos
+in this little arsenal, for it gave evidence of considerable labor on
+the boy's part, and expressed much of buoyant hope and restless energy.
+
+There were a half-dozen Fourth of July pistols, as many cannons for
+crackers, and three attempts at real guns intended to explode powder and
+throw a bullet. Some of them were "toggled up" with twine, and one or
+two had handles rudely carved out of wood. Two of them were genuine
+revolvers which he had managed to earn by working in the harvest field
+on the Burns' farm.
+
+From his fifteenth year he was never without a shotgun and revolver. The
+shotgun was allowed, but the revolver was still contraband and kept
+carefully concealed. On Fourth of July he always helped to fire the
+anvil and fireworks, for he was deft and sure and quite at home with
+explosives. He had acquired great skill with both gun and pistol as
+early as his thirteenth year, and his feats of marksmanship came now and
+then to the ears of his father.
+
+The father and son were in open warfare. Harold submitted to every
+command outwardly, but inwardly vowed to break all restraint which he
+considered useless or unjust.
+
+His great ambition was to acquire a "mustang pony," for all the
+adventurous spirits of the dime novels he had known carried revolvers
+and rode mustangs. He did not read much, but when he did it was always
+some tale of fighting. He was too restless and active to continue at a
+book of his own accord for any length of time, but he listened
+delightedly to any one who consented to read for him. When his sister
+Maud wished to do him a great favor and to enjoy his company (for she
+loved him dearly) she read Daredevil Dan, or some similar story, while
+he lay out on his stomach in the grass under the trees, with restless
+feet swinging like pendulums. At such times his face was beautiful with
+longing, and his eyes became dark and dreamy. "I'm going there, Beauty,"
+he would say as Maud rolled out the word _Colorado_ or _Brazos_. "I'm
+going there. I won't stay here and rot. I'll go, you'll see, and I'll
+have a big herd of cattle, too."
+
+His gentlest moments were those spent with his sister in the fields or
+under the trees. As he grew older he became curiously tender and
+watchful of her. It pleased him to go ahead of her through the woods, to
+pilot the way, and to help her over ditches or fences. He loved to lead
+her into dense thickets and to look around and say: "There, isn't this
+wild, though? You couldn't find your way out if it wasn't for me, could
+you?" And she, to carry out the spirit of the story, always shuddered
+and said, "Don't leave me to perish here."
+
+Once, as he lay with his head in the grass, he suddenly said: "Can't you
+hear the Colorado roar?"
+
+The wind was sweeping over the trees, and Maud, eager to keep him in
+this gentle mood, cried: "I hear it; it is a wonderful river, isn't it?"
+
+He did not speak again for a moment.
+
+"Oh, I want to be where there is nobody west of me," he said, a look of
+singular beauty on his face. "Don't you?"
+
+"N--no, I don't," answered Maud. "But, then, I'm a girl, you know; we're
+afraid of wild things, most of us."
+
+"Dot Burland isn't."
+
+"Oh, she only pretends; she wants you to think she's brave."
+
+"That's a lie." He said it so savagely that Maud hastened to apologize.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+HIS LOVE AFFAIRS
+
+
+Naturally a lad of this temper had his loves. He made no secret of them,
+and all the young people in the town knew his sweethearts and the
+precise time when his passion changed its course. If a girl pleased him
+he courted her with the utmost directness, but he was by no
+interpretation a love-sick youth. His likings were more in the nature of
+proprietary comradeship, and were expressed without caresses or ordinary
+words of endearment.
+
+His courtship amounted to service. He waited about to meet and help his
+love, he hastened to defend her and to guide her; and if the favored one
+knew her role she humored his fancies, permitting him to aid her in
+finding her way across a weedy pasture lot or over a tiny little brook
+which he was pleased to call a torrent. A smile of derision was fatal.
+He would not submit to ridicule or joking. At the first jocular word his
+hands clinched and his eyes flamed with anger. His was not a face of
+laughter; for the most part it was serious in expression, and his eyes
+were rapt with dreams of great deeds.
+
+He had one mate to whom he talked freely, and him he chose often to be
+his companion in the woods or on the prairies. This was John Burns, son
+of a farmer who lived near the town. Harry spent nearly every Saturday
+and Sunday during the summer months on the Burns farm. He helped Jack
+during haying and harvest, and when their tasks were done the two boys
+wandered away to the bank of the river and there, under some great
+basswood tree on delicious sward, they lay and talked of wild animals
+and Indians and the West. At this time the great chieftains of the
+Sioux, Sitting Bull and Gall, were becoming famous to the world, and the
+first reports of the findings of gold in the Black Hills were being
+made. A commission appointed by President Grant had made a treaty with
+the Sioux wherein Sitting Bull was told, "If you go to this new
+reservation and leave Dakota to the settlers, you shall be unmolested so
+long as grass grows and water runs."
+
+But the very guard sent in to protect this commission reported "gold in
+the grass roots," and the insatiate greed of the white man broke all
+bounds--the treaty was ignored, and Sitting Bull, the last chieftain of
+the Sioux, calling his people together, withdrew deeper into the
+wilderness of Wyoming. The soldiers were sent on the trail, and the
+press teemed for months with news of battles and speeches and campaigns.
+
+All these exciting events Harry and his friend Jack read and discussed
+hotly. Jack was eager to own a mine. "I'd like to pick up a nugget," he
+said, but Harold was not interested. "I don't care to mine; I'd like to
+be with General Custer. I'd like to be one of the scouts. I'd like to
+have a coat like that." He pointed at one of the pictures wherein two or
+three men in fringed buckskin shirts and wide hats were galloping across
+a rocky plain.
+
+Many times as the two boys met to talk over these alluring matters the
+little town and the dusty lanes became exceedingly tame and commonplace.
+
+Harold's eyes glowed with passion as he talked to his sweetheart of
+these wild scenes, and she listened because he was so alluring as he lay
+at her feet, pouring out a vivid recital of his plans.
+
+"I'm not going to stay here much longer," he said; "it's too dull. I
+can't stand much more school. If it wasn't for you I'd run away right
+now."
+
+Dot only smiled back at him and laid her hand on his hair. She was his
+latest sweetheart. He loved her for her vivid color, her abundant and
+beautiful hair, and also because she was a sympathetic listener. She, on
+her part, enjoyed the sound of his eager voice and the glow of his deep
+brown eyes. They were both pupils in the little seminary in the town,
+and he saw her every day walking to and from the recitation halls. He
+often carried her books for her, and in many other little ways insisted
+on serving her.
+
+Almost without definable reason the "Wild West" came to be a land of
+wonder, lit as by some magical light. Its canons, _arroyos_, and
+mesquite, its bronchos, cowboys, Indians, and scouts filled the boy's
+mind with thoughts of daring, not much unlike the fancies of a boy in
+the days of knight errantry.
+
+Of the Indians he held mixed opinions. At times he thought of them as a
+noble race, at others--when he dreamed of fame--he wished to kill a
+great many of them and be very famous. Most of the books he read were
+based upon the slaughter of the "redskins," and yet at heart he wished
+to be one of them and to taste the wild joy of their poetic life, filled
+with hunting and warfare. Sitting Bull, Chief Gall, Rain-in-the-Face,
+Spotted Tail, Star-in-the-Brow, and Black Buffalo became wonder-working
+names in his mind. Every line in the newspapers which related to the
+life of the cowboys or Indians he read and remembered, for his plan was
+to become a part of it as soon as he had money enough to start.
+
+There were those who would have contributed five dollars each to send
+him, for he was considered a dangerous influence among the village boys.
+If a window were broken by hoodlums at night it was counted against the
+minister's son. If a melon patch were raided and the fruit scattered and
+broken, Harold was considered the ringleader. Of the judgments of their
+elders the rough lads were well aware, and they took pains that no word
+of theirs should shift blame from Harold's shoulders to their own. By
+hints and sly remarks they fixed unalterably in the minds of their
+fathers and mothers the conception that Harold was a desperately bad and
+reckless boy. In his strength, skill, and courage they really believed,
+and being afraid of him, they told stories of his exploits, even among
+themselves, which bordered on the marvelous.
+
+In reality he was not a leader of these raids. His temperament was not
+of that kind. He did not care to assume direction of an expedition
+because it carried too much trouble and some responsibility. His mind
+was wayward and liable to shift to some other thing at any moment;
+besides, mischief for its own sake did not appeal to him. The real
+leaders were the two sons of the village shoemaker. They were
+under-sized, weazened, shrewd, sly little scamps, and appeared not to
+have the resolution of chickadees, but had a singular genius for getting
+others into trouble. They knew how to handle spirits like Harold. They
+dared him to do evil deeds, taunted him (as openly as they felt it safe
+to do) with cowardice, and so spurred him to attempt some trifling
+depredation merely as a piece of adventure. Almost invariably when they
+touched him on this nerve Harold responded with a rush, and when
+discovery came was nearly always among the culprits taken and branded,
+for his pride would not permit him to sneak and run. So it fell out that
+time after time he was found among the grape stealers or the melon
+raiders, and escaped prosecution only because the men of the town laid
+it to "boyish deviltry" and not to any deliberate intent to commit a
+crime.
+
+After his daughter married Mr. Excell made another effort to win the
+love of his son and failed. Harold cared nothing for his father's
+scholarship or oratorical powers, and never went to church after he was
+sixteen, but he sometimes boasted of his father among the boys.
+
+"If father wasn't a minister, he'd be one of the strongest men in this
+town," he said once to Jack. "Look at his shoulders. His arms are hard,
+too. Of course he can't show his muscle, but I tell you he can box and
+swing dumb-bells."
+
+If the father had known it, in the direction of athletics lay the road
+to the son's heart, but the members of the First Church were not
+sufficiently advanced to approve of a muscular minister, and so Mr.
+Excell kept silent on such subjects, and swung his dumb-bells in
+private. As a matter of fact, he had been a good hunter in his youth in
+Michigan, and might have won his son's love by tales of the wood, but he
+did not.
+
+For the most part, Harold ignored his father's occasional moments of
+tenderness, and spent the larger part of his time with his sister or at
+the Burns' farm.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Burns saw all that was manly and good in the boy, and they
+stoutly defended him on all occasions.
+
+"The boy is put upon," Mrs. Burns always argued. "A quieter, more
+peaceabler boy I never knew, except my own Jack. They're good, helpful
+boys, both of 'em, and I don't care what anybody says."
+
+Jack, being slower of thought and limb, worshiped his chum, whose
+alertness and resource humbled him, though he was much the better
+scholar in all routine work. He read more than Harold, but Harold seized
+upon the facts and transmitted them instantly into something vivid and
+dramatic. He assumed all leadership in the hunting, and upon Jack fell
+all the drudgery. He always did the reading, also, while Harold listened
+and dreamed with eyes that seemed to look across miles of peaks. His was
+the eagle's heart; wild reaches allured him. Minute beauties of garden
+or flower were not for him. The groves along the river had long since
+lost their charm because he knew their limits--they no longer appealed
+to his imagination.
+
+A hundred times he said: "Come, let's go West and kill buffalo.
+To-morrow we will see the snow on Pike's Peak." The wild country was so
+near, its pressure day by day molded his mind. He had no care or thought
+of cities or the East. He dreamed of the plains and horses and herds of
+buffalo and troops of Indians filing down the distant slopes. Every poem
+of the range, every word which carried flavor of the wild country, every
+picture of a hunter remained in his mind.
+
+The feel of a gun in his hands gave him the keenest delight, and to
+stalk geese in a pond or crows in the cornfield enabled him to imagine
+the joy of hunting the bear and the buffalo. He had the hunter's
+patience, and was capable of creeping on his knees in the mud for hours
+in the attempt to kill a duck. He could imitate almost all the birds and
+animals he knew. His whistle would call the mother grouse to him. He
+could stop the whooping of cranes in their steady flight, and his
+honking deceived the wary geese. When complimented for his skill in
+hunting he scornfully said:
+
+"Oh, that's nothing. Anyone can kill small game; but buffaloes and
+grizzlies--they are the boys."
+
+During the winter of his sixteenth year a brother of Mr. Burns returned
+from Kansas, which was then a strange and far-off land, and from him
+Harold drew vast streams of talk. The boy was insatiate when the plains
+were under discussion. From this veritable cattleman he secured many new
+words. With great joy he listened while Mr. Burns spoke of _cinches_,
+ropes, corrals, _buttes_, _arroyos_ and other Spanish-Mexican words
+which the boys had observed in their dime novels, but which they had
+never before heard anyone use in common speech. Mr. Burns alluded to an
+_aparejo_ or an _arroyo_ as casually as Jack would say "singletree" or
+"furrow," and his stories brought the distant plains country very near.
+
+Harold sought opportunity to say: "Mr. Burns, take me back with you; I
+wish you would."
+
+The cattleman looked at him. "Can you ride a horse?"
+
+Jack spoke up: "You bet he can, Uncle. He rode in the races."
+
+Burns smiled as a king might upon a young knight seeking an errant.
+
+"Well, if your folks don't object, when you get done with school, and
+Jack's mother says _he_ can come, you make a break for Abilene; we'll
+see what I can do with you on the 'long trail.'"
+
+Harold took this offer very seriously, much more so than Mr. Burns
+intended he should do, although he was pleased with the boy.
+
+Harold well knew that his father and mother would not consent, and very
+naturally said nothing to them about his plan, but thereafter he laid by
+every cent of money he could earn, until his thrift became a source of
+comment. To Jack he talked for hours of the journey they were to make.
+Jack, unimaginative and engrossed with his studies at the seminary, took
+the whole matter very calmly. It seemed a long way off at best, and his
+studies were pleasant and needed his whole mind. Harold was thrown back
+upon the company of his sweetheart, who was the only one else to whom he
+could talk freely.
+
+Dot, indolent, smiling creature of cozy corners that she was, listened
+without emotion, while Harold, with eyes ablaze, with visions of the
+great, splendid plains, said: "I'm going West sure. I'm tired of school;
+I'm going to Kansas, and I'm going to be a great cattle king in a few
+years, Dot, and then I'll come back and get you, and we'll go live on
+the banks of a big river, and we'll have plenty of horses, and go riding
+and hunting antelope every day. How will you like that?"
+
+Her unresponsiveness hurt him, and he said: "You don't seem to care
+whether I go or not."
+
+She turned and looked at him vacantly, still smiling, and he saw that
+she had not heard a single word of his passionate speech. He sprang up,
+hot with anger and pain.
+
+"If you don't care to listen to me you needn't," he said, speaking
+through his clinched teeth.
+
+She smiled, showing her little white teeth prettily. "Now, don't get
+mad, Harry; I was thinking of something else. Please tell me again."
+
+"I won't. I'm done with you." A big lump arose in his throat and he
+turned away to hide tears of mortified pride. He could not have put it
+into words, but he perceived the painful truth. Dot had considered him a
+boy all along, and had only half listened to his stories and plans in
+the past, deceiving him for some purpose of her own. She was a smiling,
+careless hypocrite.
+
+"You've lied to me," he said, turning and speaking with the bluntness of
+a boy without subtlety of speech. "I never'll speak to you again;
+good-by."
+
+Dot kept swinging her foot. "Good-by," she said in her sweet,
+soft-breathing voice.
+
+He walked away slowly, but his heart was hot with rage and wounded
+pride, and every time he thought of the tone in which she said
+"Good-by," his flesh quivered. He was seventeen, and considered himself
+a man; she was eighteen, and thought him only a boy. She had never
+listened to him, that he now understood. Maud had been right. Dot had
+only pretended, and now for some reason she ceased to pretend.
+
+There was just one comfort in all this: it made it easier for him to go
+to the sunset country, and his wounded heart healed a little at the
+thought of riding a horse behind a roaring herd of buffaloes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE YOUNG EAGLE STRIKES
+
+
+A farming village like Rock River is one of the quietest, most humdrum
+communities in the world till some sudden upheaval of primitive passion
+reveals the tiger, the ram, and the wolf which decent and orderly
+procedure has hidden. Cases of murder arise from the dead level of
+everyday village routine like volcanic mountain peaks in the midst of a
+flowering plain.
+
+The citizens of Rock River were amazed and horrified one Monday morning
+to learn that Dot Burland had eloped with the clerk in the principal
+bank in the town, a married man and the leader of the choir in the First
+Church. Some of the people when they heard of it, said: "I do not
+believe it," and when they were convinced, the tears came to their eyes.
+"She was such a pretty girl, and think of Mrs. Willard--and then
+Sam--who would have supposed Sam Willard could do such a thing."
+
+To most of the citizens it was drama; it broke the tedious monotony of
+everyday life; it was more productive of interesting conversation than a
+case of embezzlement or the burning of the county courthouse. There were
+those who smiled while they said: "Too bad, too bad! Any p'ticlers?"
+
+Some of the women recalled their dislike of the lazy, pink-and-white
+creature whom they had often seen loitering on the streets or lying day
+after day in a hammock reading "domestic novels." The young girls drew
+together and conveyed the news in whispers. It seemed to overturn the
+whole social world so far as they knew it, and some of them hastened to
+disclaim any friendship with "the dreadful thing."
+
+Of course the related persons came into the talk. "Poor Mrs. Willard and
+Harry Excell!" Yes, there was Harry; for a moment, for the first time,
+he was regarded with pity. "What will he do? He must take it very hard."
+
+At about eleven o'clock, just as the discussion had reached this
+secondary stage, where new particulars were necessary, a youth, pale and
+breathless, with his right hand convulsively clasping his bloody
+shoulder, rushed into the central drug store and fell to the floor with
+inarticulate cries of fear and pain. Out of his mouth at last came an
+astonishing charge of murderous assault on the part of Harold Excell.
+His wounds were dressed and the authorities notified to arrest his
+assailant.
+
+When the officers found Harold he was pacing up and down the narrow
+alley where the encounter had taken place. He was white as the dead, and
+his eyes were ablaze under his knitted brows.
+
+"Well, what do you want of me?" he demanded, as the officer rushed up
+and laid hands upon him.
+
+"You've killed Clint Slocum," replied the constable, drawing a pair of
+handcuffs from his pocket.
+
+"Oh, drop those things!" replied Harold; "I'm not going to run; you
+never knew me to run."
+
+Half ashamed, the constable replaced the irons in his pocket and seized
+his prisoner by the arm. Harold walked along quietly, but his face was
+terrible to see, especially in one so young. In every street excited
+men, women, and children were running to see him pass. He had suddenly
+become alien and far separated from them all. He perceived them as if
+through a lurid smoke cloud.
+
+On most of these faces lay a smile, a ghastly, excited, pleased grin,
+which enraged him more than any curse would have done. He had suddenly
+become their dramatic entertainment. The constable gripped him tighter
+and the sheriff, running up, seized his other arm.
+
+Harold shook himself free. "Let me alone! I'm going along all right."
+
+The officers only held him the closer, and his rage broke bounds. He
+struggled till his captors swayed about on the walk, and the little boys
+screamed with laughter to see the slender youth shake the big men.
+
+In the midst of this struggle a tall man, without hat or coat and
+wearing slippers, came running down the walk with great strides. His
+voice rang deep and clear:
+
+"_Let the boy alone!_"
+
+It was the minister. With one sweep of his right hand he tore the hands
+of the sheriff from the boy's arms; the gesture was bearlike in power.
+"What's the meaning of all this, Mr. Sawyer?" he said, addressing the
+sheriff.
+
+"Your boy has killed a man."
+
+"You lie!"
+
+"It's true--anyhow, he has stabbed Clint Slocum. He ain't dead, but he's
+hurt bad."
+
+"Is that true, Harold?"
+
+Harold did not lift his sullen glance. "He struck me with a whip."
+
+There was a silence, during which the minister choked with emotion and
+his lips moved as if in silent prayer. Then he turned. "Free the boy's
+arm. I'll guarantee he will not try to escape. No son of mine will run
+to escape punishment--leave him to me."
+
+The constable, being a member of the minister's congregation and a
+profound admirer of his pastor, fell back. The sheriff took a place by
+his side, and the father and son walked on toward the jail. After a few
+moments the minister began to speak in a low voice:
+
+"My son, you have reached a momentous point in your life's history. Much
+depends on the words you use. I will not tell you to conceal the truth,
+but you need not incriminate yourself--that is the law"--his voice was
+almost inaudible, but Harold heard it. "If Slocum dies--oh, my God! My
+God!"
+
+His voice failed him utterly, but he walked erect and martial, the sun
+blazing on his white forehead, his hands clinched at his sides. There
+were many of his parishioners in the streets, and several of the women
+broke into bitter weeping as he passed, and many of the men imprecated
+the boy who was bringing white lines of sorrow into his father's hair.
+"This is the logical end of his lawless bringing up," said one.
+
+The father went on: "Tell me, my boy--tell me the truth--did you strike
+to kill? Was murder in your heart?"
+
+Harold did not reply. The minister laid a broad, gentle hand on his
+son's shoulder. "Tell me, Harold."
+
+"No; I struck to hurt him. He was striking me; I struck back," the boy
+sullenly answered.
+
+The father sighed with relief. "I believe you, Harold. He is older and
+stronger, too: that will count in your favor."
+
+They reached the jail yard gate, and there, in the face of a crowd of
+curious people, the minister bowed his proud head and put his arm about
+his son and kissed his hair. Then, with tears upon his face, he
+addressed the sheriff:
+
+"Mr. Sheriff, I resign my boy to your care. Remember, he is but a lad,
+and he is my only son. Deal gently with him.--Harold, submit to the law
+and all will end well. I will bring mother and Maud to see you at once."
+
+As the gate closed on his son the minister drew a deep breath, and a cry
+of bitter agony broke from his clinched lips: "O God, O God! My son is
+lost!"
+
+The story of the encounter, even as it dribbled forth from Slocum,
+developed extenuating circumstances. Slocum was man grown, a big,
+muscular fellow, rather given to bullying. A heavy carriage whip was
+found lying in the alley, and this also supported Harold's story to his
+father. As told by Slocum, the struggle took place just where the alley
+from behind the parsonage came out upon the cross street.
+
+"I was leading a horse," said Slocum, "and I met Harry, and we got to
+talking, and something I said made him mad, and he jerked out his knife
+and jumped at me. The horse got scared and yanked me around, and just
+then Harry got his knife into me. I saw he was in for my life and I
+threw down the whip and run, the blood a-spurting out o' me, hot as
+b'ilin' water. I was scared, I admit that. I thought he'd opened a big
+artery in me, and I guess he did."
+
+When this story, amplified and made dramatic, reached the ears of the
+minister, he said: "That is Clinton's side of the case. My son must have
+been provoked beyond his control. Wait till we hear his story."
+
+But the shadow of the prison was on Harold's face, and he sullenly
+refused to make any statement, even to his sister, who had more
+influence over him than Mrs. Excell.
+
+A singular and sinister change came over him as the days passed. He
+became silent and secretive and suspicious, and the sheriff spoke to Mr.
+Excell about it. "I don't understand that boy of yours. He seems to be
+in training for a contest of some kind. He's quiet enough in daytime, or
+when I'm around, but when he thinks he's alone, he races up and down
+like a lynx, and jumps and turns handsprings, and all sorts of things.
+The only person he asks to see is young Burns. I can't fathom him."
+
+The father lowered his eyes. He knew well that Harry did not ask for
+him.
+
+"If it wasn't for these suspicious actions, doctor, I'd let him have the
+full run of the jail yard, but I dassent let him have any liberties.
+Why, he can go up the side of the cells like a squirrel! He'd go over
+our wall like a cat--no doubt of it."
+
+The minister spoke with some effort. "I think you misread my son. He is
+not one to flee from punishment. He has some other idea in his mind."
+
+To Jack Burns alone, plain, plodding, and slow, Harold showed a smiling
+face. He met him with a boyish word--"Hello, Jack! how goes it?"--and
+was eager to talk. He reached out and touched him with his hands
+wistfully. "I'm glad you've come. You're the only friend I've got now,
+Jack." This was one of the morbid fancies jail life had developed; he
+thought everybody had turned against him. "Now, I want to tell you
+something--we're chums, and you mustn't give me away. These fools think
+I'm going to try to escape, but I ain't. You see, they can't hang me for
+stabbing that coward, but they'll shut me up for a year or two, and
+I've got to keep healthy, don't you see? When I get out o' this I strike
+for the West, don't you see? And I've got to be able to do a day's work.
+Look at this arm." He stripped his strong white arm for inspection.
+
+In the midst of the excitement attending Harold's arrest, Dot's
+elopement was temporarily diminished in value, but some shrewd gossip
+connected the two events and said: "I believe Clint gibed Harry Excell
+about Dot--I just believe that's what the fight was about."
+
+This being repeated, not as an opinion but as the inside facts in the
+case, sentiment turned swiftly in Harold's favor. Clinton was shrewd
+enough to say very little about the quarrel. "I was just givin' him a
+little guff, and he up and lit into me with a big claspknife." Such was
+his story constantly repeated.
+
+Fortunately for Harold, the case came to trial early in the autumn
+session. It was the most dramatic event of the year, and it was
+seriously suggested that it would be a good thing to hold the trial in
+the opera house in order that all the townspeople should be able to
+enjoy it. A cynical young editor made a counter suggestion: "I move we
+charge one dollar per ticket and apply the funds to buying a fire
+engine." Naturally, the judge of the district went the calm way of the
+law, regardless of the town's ferment of interest in the case.
+
+The county attorney appeared for the prosecution, and old Judge Brown
+and young Bradley Talcott defended Harold.
+
+Bradley knew Harold very well and the boy had a high regard for him.
+Lawyer Brown believed the boy to be a restless and dangerous spirit, but
+he said to Bradley:
+
+"I've no doubt the boy was provoked by Clint, who is a worthless bully,
+but we must face the fact that young Excell bears a bad name. He has
+been in trouble a great many times, and the prosecution will make much
+of that. Our business is to show the extent of the provocation, and
+secondly, to disprove, so far as we can, the popular conception of the
+youth. I can get nothing out of him which will aid in his defense. He
+refuses to talk. Unless we can wring the truth out of Slocum on the
+stand it will go hard with the boy. I wish you'd see what you can do."
+
+Bradley went down to see Harold, and the two spent a couple of hours
+together. Bradley talked to him in plain and simple words, without any
+assumption. His voice was kind and sincere, and Harold nearly wept under
+its music, but he added very little to Bradley's knowledge of the
+situation.
+
+"He struck me with the whip, and then I--I can't remember much about
+it, my mind was a kind of a red blur," Harold said at last desperately.
+
+"Why did he strike you with the whip?"
+
+"I told him he was a black-hearted liar."
+
+"What made you say that to him?" persevered Bradley.
+
+"Because that's what he was."
+
+"Did he say something to you which you resented?"
+
+"Yes--he did."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+Right there Harold closed his lips and Bradley took another tack.
+
+"Harry, I want you to tell me something. Did you have anything to do
+with killing Brownlow's dog?"
+
+"No," replied Harold disdainfully.
+
+"Did you have any hand in the raid on Brownlow's orchard a week later?"
+
+"No; I was at home."
+
+"Did your folks see you during the evening?"
+
+"No; I was with Jack up in the attic, reading."
+
+"You've taken a hand in _some_ of these things--raids--haven't you?"
+
+"Yes, but I never tried to destroy things. It was all in fun."
+
+"I understand. Well, now, Harold, you've got a worse name than belongs
+to you, and I wish you'd just tell me the whole truth about this fight,
+and we will do what we can to help you."
+
+Harold's face grew sullen. "I don't care what they do with me. They're
+all down on me anyway," he slowly said, and Bradley arose and went out
+with a feeling of discouragement.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE TRIAL
+
+
+The day of his trial came as a welcome change to Harold. He had no fear
+of punishment and he hated delay. Every day before his sentence began
+was a loss of time--kept him just that much longer from the alluring
+lands to the West. His father called often to see him, but the boy
+remained inexorably silent in all these meetings, and the minister went
+away white with pain. Even to his sister Harold was abrupt and harsh,
+but Jack's devotion produced in him the most exalted emotion, and he
+turned upon his loyal chum the whole force of his affectionate nature.
+He did not look up to Jack; he loved him more as a man loves his younger
+brother, and yet even to him he would not utter the words young Slocum
+had flung at him. Lawyer Talcott had asked young Burns to get at this if
+possible, for purpose of defense, but it was not possible.
+
+The court met on the first Tuesday in September. The day was windless
+and warm, and as Harold walked across the yard with the sheriff he
+looked around at the maple leaves, just touched with crimson and gold
+and russet, and his heart ached with desire to be free. The scent of the
+open air made his nostrils quiver like those of a deer.
+
+Jack met them on the path--eager to share his hero's trouble.
+
+"Please, sheriff, let me walk with Harry."
+
+"Fall in behind," the sheriff gruffly replied; and so out of all the
+town people Jack alone associated himself with the prisoner. Up the
+stairs whereon he had romped when a lad, Harold climbed spiritlessly, a
+boy no longer.
+
+The halls were lined with faces, everyone as familiar as the scarred and
+scratched wall of the court room, and yet all were now alien--no one
+recognized him by a frank and friendly nod, and he moved past his old
+companions with sullen and rigid face. His father met him at the door
+and walked beside him down the aisle to a seat.
+
+The benches were crowded, and every foot of standing space was soon
+filled. The members of the First Church were present in mass to see the
+minister enter, pale and haggard with the disgrace of his son.
+
+The judge, an untidy old man of great ability and probity, was in his
+seat, looking out absently over the spectators. "The next case" to him
+was _only_ a case. He had grown gray in dealing with infractions of the
+law, and though kindly disposed he had grown indifferent--use had dulled
+his sympathies. His beard, yellow with tobacco stain, was still
+venerable, and his voice, deep and melodious, was impressive and
+commanding.
+
+He was disposed to cut short all useless forms, and soon brought the
+case to vital questions. Naturally, the prosecution made a great deal of
+Harold's bad character, drawing from ready witnesses the story of his
+misdeeds. To do this was easy, for the current set that way, and those
+who had only _thought_ Harold a bad boy now _knew_ that he was concerned
+in all the mischief of the village.
+
+In rebuttal, Mr. Talcott drew out contradictory statements from these
+witnesses, and proved several alibis at points where Harold had been
+accused. He produced Jack Burns and several others to prove that Harold
+liked fun, but that he was not inclined to lead in any of the mischief
+of the town--in fact, that he had not the quality of leadership.
+
+He pushed young Burns hard to get him to say that he knew the words of
+insult which Slocum had used. "I think he used some girl's name," he
+finally admitted.
+
+"I object," shouted the prosecution, as if touched on a hidden spring.
+
+"Go on," said the judge to Talcott. He had become interested in the case
+at last.
+
+When the lawyer for the prosecution cross-examined young Burns he became
+terrible. He leaned across the table and shook his lean, big-jointed
+finger in Jack's face. "We don't want what you _think_, sir; we want
+what you know. Do you _know_ that Slocum brought a girl's name into
+this?"
+
+"No, sir, I don't," replied Jack, red and perspiring.
+
+"That's all!" cried the attorney, leaning back in his chair with
+dramatic complacency.
+
+Others of Harold's companions were brow-beaten into declaring that he
+led them into all kinds of raids, and when Talcott tried to stem this
+tide by objection, the prosecution rose to say that the testimony was
+competent; that it was designed to show the dangerous character of the
+prisoner. "He is no gentle and guileless youth, y'r Honor, but a
+reckless young devil, given to violence. No one will go further than I
+in admiration of the Reverend Mr. Excell, but the fact of the son's
+lawless life can not be gainsaid."
+
+Slocum repeated his story on the stand and was unshaken by Bradley's
+cross-examination. Suddenly the defense said: "Stand, please."
+
+Slocum arose--a powerful, full-grown man.
+
+Bradley nodded at Harold. "Stand also."
+
+"I object," shrieked the prosecution.
+
+"State the objection," said the judge.
+
+"Keep your position," said Bradley sternly. "I want the jury to compare
+you."
+
+As the prisoner and the witness faced each other the court room
+blossomed with smiles. Harold looked very pale and delicate beside the
+coarse, muscular hostler, who turned red and looked foolish.
+
+Ultimately the judge sustained the objection, but the work was done. A
+dramatic contrast had been drawn, and the jury perceived the
+pusillanimity of Slocum's story. This was the position of the defense.
+Harold was a boy, the hostler had insulted him, had indeed struck him
+with a whip. Mad with rage, and realizing the greater strength of his
+assailant, the prisoner had drawn a knife.
+
+In rebuttal, the prosecution made much of Harold's fierce words. He
+meant to kill. He was a dangerous boy. "Speaking with due reverence for
+his parents," the lawyer said, "the boy has been a scourge. Again and
+again he has threatened his playmates with death. These facts must
+stand. The State is willing to admit the disparity of strength, so
+artfully set forth by the defense, but it must not be forgotten that the
+boy was known to carry deadly weapons, and that he was subject to blind
+rages. It was not, therefore, so much a question of punishing the boy as
+of checking his assaults upon society. To properly punish him here would
+have a most salutary effect upon his action in future. The jury must
+consider the case without sentiment."
+
+Old Brown arose after the State had finished. Everyone knew his power
+before a jury, and the room was painfully silent as he walked with
+stately tread to a spittoon and cleared his mouth of a big wad of
+tobacco. He was the old-fashioned lawyer, formal, deliberate; and though
+everybody enjoyed Bradley Talcott's powerful speech, they looked for
+drama from Brown. The judge waited patiently while the famous old lawyer
+played his introductory part. At last, after silently pacing to and fro
+for a full minute, he turned, and began in a hard, dry, nasal voice.
+
+"Your Honor, I'm not so sure of the reforming effect of a penitentiary.
+I question the salutary quality of herding this delicate and
+high-spirited youth with the hardened criminals of the State." His
+strident, monotonous tone, and the cynical inflections of his voice made
+the spectators shiver with emotion as under the power of a great actor.
+He paced before the judge twice before speaking again. "Your Honor,
+there is more in this case than has yet appeared. Everyone in this room
+knows that the elopement of Dorothy Burland is at the bottom of this
+affair, everyone but yourself, judge. This lad was the accepted
+sweetheart of that wayward miss. This man Slocum is one of the rough,
+loud-spoken men of the village, schooled in vice and fisticuffery. You
+can well imagine, gentlemen of the jury," he turned to them abruptly,
+"you can well imagine the kind of a greeting this town loafer would give
+this high-spirited boy on that morning after the night when his
+_inamorata_ disappeared with a married man. The boy has in him somewhat
+of the knight of the old time, your Honor; he has never opened his lips
+in dispraise of his faithless love. He has refused to repeat the
+insulting words of his assailant. He stands to-day at a turning point of
+his life, gentlemen of the jury, and it depends on you whether he goes
+downward or upward. He has had his faith in women shaken: don't let him
+lose faith in law and earthly justice." His first gesture was on the
+word "downward," and it was superb.
+
+Again he paused, and when he looked up again a twinkle was in his eyes
+and his voice was softer. "As for all this chicken roasting and melon
+lifting, you well know the spirit that is in that; we all had a hand in
+such business once, every man Jack of us. The boy is no more culpable
+now than you were then. Moreover, Excell has had too much of the
+mischief of the town laid on his shoulders--more than he deserves. 'Give
+a dog a bad name and every dead sheep is laid at the door of his
+kennel.'
+
+"However, I don't intend to review the case, y'r Honor. My colleague has
+made the main and vital points entirely clear; I intend merely to add a
+word here and there. I want you to take another look at that pale,
+handsome, poetic youth and then at that burly bully, and consider the
+folly, the idiocy, and the cowardice of the charge brought against our
+client." He waited while the contrast which his dramatic utterance made
+enormously effective was being felt; then, in a deep, melodious voice,
+touched with sadness, he addressed the judge:
+
+"And to you, your Honor, I want to say we are old men. You on the bench
+and I here in the forum have faced each other many times. I have
+defended many criminals, as it was my duty to do, and you have punished
+many who deserved their sentences. I have seen innocent men unable to
+prove their freedom from guilt, and I have known men who are grossly
+criminal, because of lack of evidence--these things are beyond our
+cure. We are old, your Honor: we must soon give place to younger men. We
+can not afford to leave bench and bar with the stain of injustice on our
+garments. We can not afford to start this boy on the road to hell at
+seventeen years of age."
+
+He stopped as abruptly as he had begun, and the room was silent for a
+long time after he had taken his seat. To Harold it seemed as though he
+and all the people of the room were dead--that only his brain was alive.
+Then Mrs. Excell burst into sobbing. The judge looked away into space,
+his dim eyes seeing nothing that was near, his face an impassive mask of
+colorless flesh. The old lawyer's words had stirred his blood, sluggish
+and cold with age, but his brain absorbed the larger part of his roused
+vitality, and when he spoke his voice had an unwontedly flat and dry
+sound.
+
+"The question for you to decide," he said, instructing the jury, "is
+whether the boy struck the blow in self-defense, or whether he assaulted
+with intent to do great bodily injury. The fact that he was provoked by
+a man older and stronger than himself naturally militates in his favor,
+but the next question is upon the boy's previous character. Did he carry
+deadly weapons? Is he at heart dangerous to his fellows? His youth
+should be in mind, but it should also be remembered that he is a lad of
+high intellectual power, older than most men of his age. I will not
+dwell upon the case; you have heard the testimony; the verdict is in
+your keeping."
+
+During all this period of severe mental strain Mr. Excell sat beside
+Lawyer Brown, motionless as a statue, save when now and again he leaned
+forward to whisper a suggestion. He did not look at his son, and Harold
+seldom looked at him. Jack Burns sat as near the prisoner as the sheriff
+would permit, and his homely, good face, and the face of the judge were
+to Harold the only spots of light in the otherwise dark room. Outside
+the voices of children could be heard and the sound of the rising wind
+in the rustling trees. Once a breeze sent a shower of yellow and crimson
+leaves fluttering in at the open window, and the boy's heart swelled
+high in his throat, and he bowed his head and sobbed. Those leaves
+represented the splendor of the open spaces to him. They were like
+messages from the crimson sunsets of the golden West, and his heart
+thrilled at the sight of them.
+
+It was long after twelve o'clock, and an adjournment for dinner was
+ordered. Harold was about to be led away when his father came to him and
+said:
+
+"Harold, would you like to have your mother and me go to dinner with
+you?"
+
+With that same unrelenting, stubborn frown on his face the boy replied:
+"No--let me alone."
+
+A hot flush swept over the preacher's face. "Very well," he said, and
+turned away, his lips twitching.
+
+The jury was not long out. They were ready to report at three o'clock.
+Every seat was filled as before. The lawyers came in, picking their
+teeth or smoking. The ladies were in Sunday dress, the young men were
+accompanied by their girls, as if the trial were a dramatic
+entertainment. Those who failed of regaining their seats were much
+annoyed; others, more thrifty, had hired boys to keep their places for
+them during the noon hour, and others, still more determined, having
+brought lunches, had remained in their seats throughout the
+intermission, and were serene and satisfied.
+
+Harold was brought back to his seat looking less haggard. He was not
+afraid of sentence; on the contrary he longed to have the suspense end.
+
+"I don't care what they do with me if they don't use up too much of my
+life," he said to Jack. "I'll pound rock or live in a dungeon if it will
+only shorten my sentence. I hate to think of losing time. Oh, if I had
+only gone last year!"
+
+The Reverend Excell came in, looming high above the crowd, his face
+still white and set. He paid no heed to his parishioners, but made his
+way to the side of Lawyer Brown. The judge mounted his bench and the
+court room came to order instantly.
+
+"Is the jury ready to report on the case of the State _vs._ Excell?" he
+asked in a low voice. He was informed that they were agreed. After the
+jury had taken their seats he said blandly, mechanically: "Gentlemen, we
+are ready for your verdict."
+
+Harold knew the foreman very well. He was a carpenter and joiner in
+whose shop he had often played--a big, bluff, good-hearted man whom any
+public speaking appalled, and who stammered badly as he read from a
+little slip of paper: "Guilty of assault with intent to commit great
+bodily injury, but recommended to the mercy of the judge." Then, with
+one hand in his breeches pocket, he added: "Be easy on him, judge; I
+believe I'd 'a' done the same."
+
+The spectators tittered at his abrupt change of tone, and some of the
+young people applauded. He sat down very hot and red.
+
+The judge did not smile or frown; his expressionless face seemed more
+like a mask than ever. When he began to speak it was as though he were
+reading something writ in huge letters on a distant wall.
+
+"The Court is quite sensible of the extenuating circumstances attending
+this sad case, but there are far-reaching considerations which the Court
+can not forget. Here is a youth of good family, who elects to take up a
+life filled with mischief from the start. Discipline has been lacking.
+Here, at last, he so far oversteps the law that he appears before a
+jury. It seems to the Court necessary, for this young man's own good,
+that he feel the harsh hand of the law. According to the evidence
+adduced here to-day, he has been for years beyond the control of his
+parents, and must now know the inflexible purpose of law. I have in mind
+all that can be said in his favor: his youth, the disparity of age and
+physical power between himself and his accuser, the provocation, and the
+possession of the whip by the accuser--but all these are more than
+counterbalanced by the record of mischief and violence which stands
+against the prisoner."
+
+There was a solemn pause, and the judge sternly said: "Prisoner, stand
+up." Harold arose. "For an assault committed upon the person of one
+Clinton Slocum, I now sentence you, Harold Excell, to one year in the
+penitentiary, and may you there learn to respect the life and property
+of your fellow-citizens."
+
+"Judge! I beg----" The tall form of Mr. Excell arose, seeking to speak.
+
+The judge motioned him to silence.
+
+Brown interposed: "I hope the court will not refuse to hear the father
+of the prisoner. It would be scant justice if----"
+
+Mr. Excell's voice arose, harsh, stern, and quick. He spoke like the big
+man he was, firm and decided. Harold looked up at him in surprise.
+
+"I claim the right to be heard; will the Court refuse me the privilege
+of a word?" His voice was a challenge. "I am known in this community.
+For seven years as a minister of the Gospel I have lived among these
+citizens. My son is about to be condemned to State's prison, and before
+he goes I want to make a statement here before him and before the judge
+and before the world. I understand this boy better than any of you,
+better than the mother who bore him, for I have given him the
+disposition which he bears. I have had from my youth the same murderous
+rages: I have them yet. I love my son, your Honor, and I would take him
+in my arms if I could, but he has too much of my own spirit. He
+literally can not meet me as an affectionate son, for I sacrificed his
+good-will by harsh measures while he was yet a babe. I make this
+confession in order that the Court may understand my relation to my son.
+He was born with my own temper mingled with the poetic nature of his
+mother. While he was yet a lad I beat him till he was discolored by
+bruises. Twice I would have killed him only for the intervention of my
+wife. I have tried to live down my infirmity, your Honor, and I have at
+last secured control of myself, and I believe this boy will do the same,
+but do not send him to be an associate with criminals. My God! do not
+treat him as I would not do, even in my worst moments. Give him a chance
+to reform outside State's prison. Don't fix on him that stain. I will
+not say send me--that would be foolish trickery--but I beg you to make
+some other disposition of this boy of mine. If he goes to the
+penitentiary I shall strip from my shoulders the dress of the clergyman
+and go with him, to be near to aid and comfort him during the term of
+his sentence. Let the father in you speak for me, judge. Be merciful, as
+we all hope for mercy on the great day, for Jesus' sake."
+
+The judge looked out over the audience of weeping women and his face
+warmed into life. He turned to the minister, who still stood before him
+with hand outstretched, and when he spoke his voice was softened and his
+eyes kindly.
+
+"The Court has listened to the words of the father with peculiar
+interest. The Court _is_ a father, and has been at a loss to understand
+the relations existing between father and son in this case. The Court
+thinks he understands them better now. As counsel for the defense has
+said, I am an old man, soon to leave my seat upon the bench, and I do
+not intend to let foolish pride or dry legal formalities stand between
+me and the doing of justice. The jury has decided that the boy is
+guilty, but has recommended him to the mercy of the Court. The plea of
+the father has enlightened the Court on one or two most vital points.
+Nothing is further from the mind of the Court than the desire to do
+injury to a handsome and talented boy. Believing that the father and son
+are about to become more closely united, the Court here transmutes the
+sentence to one hundred dollars fine and six months in the county jail.
+This will make it possible for the son and father to meet often, and the
+father can continue his duties to the church. This the Court decides
+upon as the final disposition of the accused. The case is closed. Call
+the next case."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE EAGLE'S EYES GROW DIM
+
+
+The county jail in Cedar County was a plain, brick structure set in the
+midst of the Court House Square. Connected with it was the official
+residence of the sheriff, and brick walks ran diagonally from corner to
+corner for the convenience of citizens. Over these walks magnificent
+maples flung gorgeous banners in autumn, and it was a favorite promenade
+for the young people of the town at all seasons, even in winter.
+
+At times when the jail was filled with disorderly inmates these innocent
+lovers could hear the wild yells and see the insulting gestures of the
+men at the windows, but ordinarily the grounds were quiet and peaceful.
+The robins nested in the maples, the squirrels scampered from tree to
+tree, and little children tumbled about on the grass, unmindful of the
+sullen captives within the walls.
+
+For seven years Harold himself had played about this yard, hearing the
+wild voices of the prisoners and seeing men come and go in irons. Over
+these walks he had loitered with Dot--now he was one of those who clawed
+at the window bars like monkeys in a cage in order to look out at the
+sunshine of the world. The jail pallor was already on his face and a
+savage look was in his eyes. He refused to see anyone but Jack, who came
+often and whose coming saved him from despair.
+
+In one respect the county jail was worse, than the State's prison; it
+had nothing for its captives to do. They ate, amused themselves as best
+they could through the long day, and slept. Most of them brooded, like
+Harold, on the sunshine lost to them, and paced their cells like wild
+animals. It had, however, the advantage of giving to each man a separate
+bed at night, though during the day they occupied a common corridor.
+Some of them sang indecent songs and cursed their fellows for their
+stupidity, and fights were not uncommon.
+
+The jailer was inclined to allow Harold more liberty after his trial,
+but the boy said: "I'm not asking any favors from you. I'm working out a
+sentence."
+
+He continued his systematic exercise, eating regularly and with care in
+order that he should keep his health. He spent several hours each day
+leaping up the stairway which led from the lower cells to the upper, and
+his limbs were like bundles of steel rods. He could spring from the
+floor, catch the hand rail of the runway above, and swing himself with a
+single effort to the upper cells. Every possible combination of strength
+and agility which the slender variety of means allowed he used, and not
+one of all the prisoners cared to try muscular conclusions with him.
+Occasionally a new prisoner would experiment, but those who held over
+knew better than to "bother the kid." When a rash and doubting man tried
+it, he repented it in cotton cloth and arnica.
+
+The only way in which Harold could be enticed into the residence part of
+the jail was by sending Jack to call upon him.
+
+At such times the jailer gave him plenty of time, and Harold poured
+forth his latest plans in a swift torrent. He talked of nothing but the
+West. "My sentence will be out in April," he said; "just the right time
+to go. You must make all arrangements for me, old man. You take my money
+and get these things for me. I want a six-shooter, the best you can
+find, the kind they use out on the plains, and a belt and ammunition. I
+want a valise--a good strong one; and I want you to put all my clothes
+in it--I mean my underclothes--I won't need cuffs and collars and such
+knickknacks out there. I shall never enter father's door again. Then I
+want you to be on the lookout for a chance to drive cattle for somebody
+going West. We'll find chances enough, and we'll strike for Abilene and
+your uncle's place. I haven't money enough to carry me out there on the
+train. Oh! won't it be good fun when we have a good horse apiece and go
+riding across the plains herding the longhorns! That's life, that is! If
+I'd only gone last year, out where the buffalo and the antelope are!"
+
+At such times the eagle's heart in the youth could scarcely endure the
+pale, cold light of the prison. For an hour after one of these talks
+with Jack he tore around his cell like a crazed wolf, till his weary
+muscles absorbed the ache in his heart.
+
+During the winter the Young Men's Christian Association of the town
+organized what they called a Prison Rescue Band, which held services in
+the jail each Sunday afternoon. They were a great bore to Harold, who
+knew the members of the band and disliked most of them. He considered
+them "a little off their nut"--that is to say, fanatic. He kept his cell
+closely, and the devoted ones seldom caught a glimpse of him, though he
+was the chief object of their care. They sang Pull for the Shore, Trust
+it all with Jesus, and other well-worn Moody and Sankey hymns, and the
+leader prayed resoundingly, and then, one by one, the others made
+little talks to the prison walls. There was seldom a face to be seen.
+Muttered curses occasionally rumbled from the cells where the prisoners
+were trying to sleep.
+
+But the leader was a shrewd young man, and not many Sundays after his
+initial attempt the prisoners were amazed to hear female voices joining
+in the songs. Heads appeared at every door to see the girls, who stood
+timidly behind the men and sang (in quavering voices) the songs that
+persuaded to grace.
+
+Some of these girlish messengers of mercy Harold knew, but others were
+strange to him. The seminary was in session again and new pupils had
+entered. For the most part they were colorless and plain, and the
+prisoners ceased to show themselves during the singing. Harold lay on
+his iron bed dreaming of the wild lands whose mountains he could see
+shining through his prison walls. Jack had purchased for him some
+photographs of the Rocky Mountains, and when he desired to forget his
+surroundings he had but to look on the seamless dome of Sierra Blanca or
+the San Francisco peaks, or at the image of the limpid waters of
+Trapper's Lake, and like the conjurer's magic crystal sphere, it cured
+him of all his mental maladies, set him free and a-horse.
+
+But one Sabbath afternoon he heard a new voice, a girl's voice, so sweet
+and tender and true he could not forbear to look out upon the singer.
+She was small and looked very pale under the white light of the high
+windows. She was singing alone, a wonderful thing in itself, and in her
+eyes was neither fear nor maidenly shrinking; she was indeed thrillingly
+absorbed and self-forgetful. There was something singular and arresting
+in the poise of her head. Her eyes seemed to look through and beyond the
+prison walls, far into some finer, purer land than any earthly feet had
+trod, and her song had a touch of genuine poetry in it:
+
+    "If I were a voice, a persuasive voice,
+    That could travel the whole earth through,
+    I would fly on the wings of the morning light
+    And speak to men with a gentle might
+    And tell them to be true--
+    If I were a voice."
+
+The heart of the boy expanded. Music and poetry and love were waked in
+him by the voice of this singing girl. To others she was merely simple
+and sweet; to him she was a messenger. The vibrant, wistful cadence of
+her voice when she uttered the words "And tell them to be true," dropped
+down into the boy's sullen and lonely heart. He did not look at her, but
+all the week he wondered about her. He thought of her almost
+constantly, and the words she sang lay in his ears, soothing and healing
+like some subtle Oriental balm. "On the wings of the morning light" was
+one haunting phrase--the other was, "And tell them to be true."
+
+The other prisoners had been touched. Only one or two ventured coarse
+remarks about her, and they were speedily silenced by their neighbors.
+Harold was eager to seek Jack in order to learn the girl's name, but
+Jack was at home, sick of a cold, and did not visit him during the week.
+
+On the following Sunday she did not come, and the singing seemed
+suddenly a bitter mockery to Harold, who sought to solace himself with
+his pictures. The second week wore away and Jack came, but by that time
+the image of the girl had taken such aloofness of position in Harold's
+mind that he dared not ask about her, even of his loyal chum.
+
+At last she came again, and when she had finished singing Not half has
+ever been told, some prisoner started hand clapping, and a volley of
+applause made the cells resound. The girl started in dismay, and then,
+as she understood the meaning of this noise, a beautiful flush swept
+over her face and she shrank swiftly into shadow.
+
+But a man from an upper cell bawled: "Sing The Voice, miss! sing The
+Voice!"
+
+The leader of the band said: "Sing for them, Miss Yardwell."
+
+Again she sang If I were a Voice, and out of the cells the prisoners
+crept, one by one, and at last Harold. She did not see him till she had
+finished the last verse, and then he stood so close to her he could have
+touched her, and his solemn dark eyes burned so strangely into her face
+that she shrank away from him in awe and terror. She knew him--no one
+else but the minister's son could be so handsome and so refined of
+feature.
+
+"You're that voice, miss," one of the men called out.
+
+"That's right," replied the others in chorus.
+
+The girl was abashed, but the belief that she was leading these sinners
+to a merciful Saviour exalted her and she sang again. Harold crept as
+near as he could--so near he could see her large gray eyes, into which
+the light fell as into a mountain lake. Every man there perceived the
+girl's divine purity of purpose. She was stainless as a summer cloud--a
+passionless, serene child, with the religious impulse strong within her.
+She could not have been more than seventeen years of age, and yet so
+dignified and composed was her attitude she seemed a mature woman. She
+was not large, but she was by no means slight, and though colorless, her
+pallor was not that of ill health.
+
+Her body resembled that of a sturdy child, straight in the back, wide in
+the waist, and meager of bosom.
+
+Her voice and her eyes subdued the beast in the men. An indefinable
+personal quality ran through her utterance, a sadness, a sympathy, and
+an intuitive comprehension of the sin of the world unusual in one so
+young. She had been carefully reared: that was evident in every gesture
+and utterance. Her dress was a studiously plain gray gown, not without a
+little girlish ornament at the neck and bosom. Every detail of her
+lovely personality entered Harold's mind and remained there. He had
+hardly reached the analytic stage in matters of this kind, but he knew
+very well that this girl was like her song; she could die but never
+deceive. He wondered what her first name could be; no girl like that
+would be called "Dot" or "Cad." It ought to be Lily or Marguerite. He
+was glad to hear one of the girls call her Mary.
+
+He gazed at her almost without ceasing, but as the other convicts did
+the same he was not observably devoted, and whenever she raised her big,
+clear eyes toward him both shrank, he from a sense of unworthiness, she
+from the instinctive fear of men which a young girl of her type has
+deep-planted within her. She studied him shyly when she dared, and after
+the first song sang only for him. She prayed for him when the Band
+knelt on the stone floor, and at night in her room she plead for him
+before God.
+
+The boy was smitten with a sudden sense of his crime, not in the way of
+a repentant sinner, but as one who loves a sweet and gentle woman. All
+that his father's preaching and precept could not do, all that the
+judge, jury, and prison could not do, this slip of a girl did with a
+glance of her big gray eyes and the tremor of her voice in song. All his
+misdeeds arose up suddenly as a wall between him and the girl singer.
+His hard heart melted. The ugly lines went out of his face and it grew
+boyish once more, but sadder than ever.
+
+His was not a nature to rest inactive. He poured out a hundred questions
+to Jack who could not answer half a dozen of them. "Who is she? Where
+does she live? Do you know her? Is she a good scholar? Does she go to
+church? I hope she don't talk religion. Does she go to parties? Does she
+dance?"
+
+Jack replied as well as he was able. "She's a queer kind of a girl. She
+don't dance or go to parties at all. She's an awful fine scholar. She
+sings in the choir. Most of the boys are afraid to speak to her, she's
+so distant. She just says 'Yes,' or 'No,' when you ask her anything.
+She's religious--goes to prayer meeting and Sunday school. About a dozen
+boys go to prayer meeting just because she goes and sings. Her folks
+live in Waverly, but she boards with her aunt, Mrs. Brown. Now, that's
+all I can tell you about her. She's in some of my classes, but I dassent
+talk to her."
+
+"Jack, she's the best and grandest girl I ever saw. I'm going to write
+to her."
+
+Jack wistfully replied: "I wish you was out o' here, old man."
+
+Harold became suddenly optimistic. "Never you mind, Jack. It won't be
+long till I am. I'm going to write to her to-day. You get a pencil and
+paper for me quick."
+
+Jack's admiration of Harold was too great to admit of any question of
+his design. He would have said no one else was worthy to tie Mary's
+shoe, for he, too, worshiped her--but afar off. He was one of those whom
+women recognize only as gentle and useful beings, plain and unobtrusive.
+
+He brought the pad and pencil and sat by while the letter was written.
+Harold's was not a nature of finedrawn distinctions; he wrote as he
+fought, swift and determined, and the letter was soon finished, read,
+and approved by Jack.
+
+"Now, don't you let anybody see you give that to her," Harold said in
+parting.
+
+"Trust me," Jack stanchly replied, and both felt that here was business
+of greatest importance. Jack proceeded at once to walk on the street
+which led past Mary's boarding place, and hung about the corner, in the
+hope of meeting Mary on her return from school. He knew very exactly her
+hours of recitation and at last she came, her arms filled with books,
+moving with such stately step she seemed a woman, tall and sedate. She
+perceived Jack waiting, but was not alarmed, for she comprehended
+something of his goodness and timidity.
+
+He took off his cap with awkward formality. "Miss Yardwell, may I speak
+with you a moment?"
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Burns," she replied, quite as formally as he.
+
+He fell into step with her and walked on.
+
+"You know--my chum--" he began, breathing hard, "my chum, Harry Excell,
+is in jail. You see, he had a fight with a great big chap, Clint Slocum,
+and Clint struck Harry with a whip. Of course Harry couldn't stand that
+and he cut Clint with his knife; of course he had to do it, for you see
+Clint was big as two of him and he'd just badgered the life out of Harry
+for a month, and so they jugged Harry, and he's there--in jail--and I
+suppose you've seen him; he's a fine-looking chap, dark hair, well
+built. He's a dandy ball player and skates bully; I wish you could see
+him shoot. We're going out West together when he gets out o' jail. Well,
+he saw you and he liked you, and he wrote you a letter and wanted me to
+hand it to you when no one was looking. Here it is: hide it, quick."
+
+She took the letter, mechanically moved to do so by his imperative voice
+and action, and slipped it into her algebra. When she turned to speak
+Jack was gone, and she walked on, flushed with excitement, her breath
+shortened and quickened. She had a fair share of woman's love of romance
+and of letters, and she hurried a little in order that she might the
+sooner read the message of the dark-eyed, pale boy in the jail.
+
+It was well she did not meet Mrs. Brown as she entered, for the limpid
+gray of her eyes was clouded with emotion. She climbed the stairs to her
+room and quickly opened the note. It began abruptly:
+
+    "DEAR FRIEND: It is mighty good of you to come and sing to us poor
+    cusses in jail. I hope you'll come every Sunday. I like you. You
+    are the best girl I ever saw. Don't go to my father's church, he
+    ain't good enough to preach to you. I like you and I don't want
+    you to think I'm a hard case. I used up Clint Slocum because I had
+    to. He had hectored me about enough. He said some mean things about
+    me and some one else, and I soaked him once with my fist. He struck
+    me with the whip and downed me, then a kind of a cloud came into my
+    mind and I guess I soaked him with my knife, too. Anyhow they
+    jugged me for it. I don't care, I'd do it again. I'd cut his head
+    off if he said anything about you. Well, now I'm in here and I'm
+    sorry because I don't want you to think I'm a tough. I've done a
+    whole lot of things I had not ought to have done, but I never meant
+    to do anyone any harm.
+
+    "Now, I'm going West when I get out. I'm going into the cattle
+    business on the great plains, and I'm going to be a rich man, and
+    then I'm going to come back. I hope you won't get married before
+    that time for I'll have something to say to you. If you run across
+    any pictures of the mountains or the plains I wisht you'd send them
+    on to me. Next to you I like the life in the plains better than
+    anything.
+
+    "I hope you'll come every Sunday till I get out. Yours respec'fly,
+
+    "HAROLD EXCELL.
+
+    "Jack will give this to you. Jack is my chum; I'd trust him with my
+    life. He's all wool."
+
+The girl sat a long time with the letter in her hand. She was but a
+child, after all, and the lad's words alarmed and burdened her, for the
+meaning of the letter was plain. It was a message of love and
+admiration, and though it contained no subtleties, it came from one who
+was in jail, and she had been taught to regard people in jail as lost
+souls, aliens with whom it was dangerous to hold any intercourse, save
+in prayer and Scripture. The handsome boy with the sad face had appealed
+to her very deeply, and she bore him in her thoughts a great deal; but
+now he came in a new guise--as a lover, bold, outspoken, and persuasive.
+
+"What shall I do? Shall I tell Aunt Lida?" she asked herself, and ended
+by kneeling down and praying to Jesus to give the young man a new heart.
+
+In this fashion the courtship went on. No one knew of it but Jack, for
+Mary could not bring herself to confide in anyone, not even her mother,
+it all seemed too strange and beautiful. It was God's grace working
+through her, and her devoutness was not without its human mixture of
+girlish pride and exaltation. She worshiped him in her natural moments,
+and in her moments of religious fervor she prayed for him with
+impersonal anguish as for a lost soul. She did not consider him a
+criminal, but she thought him Godless and rebellious toward his
+Saviour.
+
+She wrote him quaint, formal little notes, which began abruptly, "My
+Friend." They contained much matter which was hortatory, but at times
+she became girlish and very charming. Gradually she dropped the tone
+which she had caught from revivalists and wrote of her studies and of
+the doings of each member of the class, and all other subjects which a
+young girl finds valuable material of conversation. She was just
+becoming acquainted with Victor Hugo and his resounding, antithetic
+phrases, and his humanitarian outcries filled her mind with commotion.
+Her heart swelled high with resolution to do something to help the world
+in general and Harold in particular.
+
+She was not one in whom passion ruled; the intellectual dominated the
+passional in her, and, besides, she was only a child. She was by no
+means as mature as Harold, although about the same age. Naturally
+reverent, she had been raised in a family where religious observances
+never remitted; where grace was always spoken. In this home her looks
+were seldom alluded to in any way, and vanity was not in her. She had
+her lovelinesses; her hair was long and fair, her eyes were beautiful,
+and her skin was of exquisite purity, like her eyes. Her charm lay in
+her modesty and quaint dignity, her grave and gentle gaze, and in her
+glorious voice.
+
+The Reverend Excell was pleased to hear that his son was bearing
+confinement very well, and made another effort to see him. Simply
+because Mary wished it, Harold consented to see his father, and they
+held a long conversation, at least the father talked and the boy
+listened. In effect, the minister said:
+
+"My son, I have forfeited your good will--that I know--but I think you
+do me an injustice. I know you think I am a liar and a hypocrite because
+you have seen me in rages and because I have profaned God in your
+presence. My boy, let me tell you, in every man there are two natures.
+When one is uppermost, actions impossible to the other nature become
+easy. You will know this, you should know it now, for in you there is
+the same murderous madman that is in me. You must fight him down. I love
+you, my son," he said, and his voice was deep and tremulous, "and it
+hurts me to have you stand aloof from me. I have tried to do my duty. I
+have almost succeeded in putting my worst self under my feet, and I
+think if you were to come to understand me you would not be so hard
+toward me. It is not a little thing to me that you, my only son, turn
+your face away from me. On the day of your trial I thought we came
+nearer to an understanding than in many years."
+
+Harold felt the justice of his father's plea and his heart swelled with
+emotion, but something arose up between his heart and his lips and he
+remained silent.
+
+Mr. Excell bent his great, handsome head and plead as a lover pleads,
+but the pale lad, with bitter and sullen mien, listened in silence. At
+last the father ended; there was a pause.
+
+"I want you to come home when your term ends," he said. "Will you
+promise that?"
+
+Harold said, "No, I can't do that. I'm going out West."
+
+"I shall not prevent you, my son, but I want you to come and take your
+place at the table just once. There is a special reason for this. Will
+you come for a single day?"
+
+Harold forced himself to answer, "Yes."
+
+Mr. Excell raised his head.
+
+"Let us shake hands over your promise, my boy."
+
+Harold arose and they shook hands. The father's eyes were wet with
+tears. "I can't afford to forfeit your good opinion," Mr. Excell went
+on, "especially now when you are leaving me, perhaps forever. I think
+you are right in going. There is no chance for you here; perhaps out
+there in the great West you may get a start. Of my shortcomings as a
+father you know, and I suppose you can never love me as a son should,
+but I think you will see some day that I am not a hypocrite, and that I
+failed as a father more through neglect and passion than through any
+deliberate injustice."
+
+The boy struggled for words to express himself; at last he burst forth:
+"I don't blame you at all, only let me go where I can do something worth
+while: you bother me so."
+
+The minister dropped his son's hand and a look of the deepest sadness
+came over his face. He had failed--Harold was farther away from him than
+ever. He turned and went out without another word.
+
+That he had hurt his father Harold knew, but in exactly what other way
+he could have acted he could not tell. The overanxiety on the father's
+part irritated the boy. Had he been less morbid, less self-accusing, he
+would have won. Harold passionately loved strength and decision,
+especially in a big man like his father, who looked like a soldier and a
+man of action, and who ought not to cry like a woman. If only he would
+act all the time as he did when he threw the sheriff across the walk
+that day on the street. "I wish he'd stop preaching and go to work at
+something," he said to Jack. The psychology of the father's attitude
+toward him was incomprehensible. He could get along very well without a
+father; why could not his father get along without him? He hated all
+this fuss, anyway. It only made him feel sorry and perplexed, and he
+wished sincerely that his father would let him alone.
+
+Jack brought a letter from Mary which troubled him.
+
+"I am going home in March, a week before the term ends. Mother
+isn't very well, and just as soon as I can I must go. If I do, you
+must not forget me."
+
+    Of course he wrote in reply, saying:
+
+    "Don't you go till I see you. You must come in and see
+    me. Can't you come in when Jack does, he knows all about us,
+    COME SURE. I can't go without a good-by kiss. Don't you go
+    back on me now.  Come."
+
+"I'm afraid to come," she replied, "people would find out
+ everything and talk. Besides you mustn't kiss me. We are not
+ regularly engaged, and so it would not be right."
+
+    "We'll be engaged in about two minutes if you'll meet me with
+    Jack," he replied. "You're the best girl in the world and I'm
+    going to marry you when I get rich enough to come back and
+    build you a house to be in, I'm going out where the cattle
+    are thick as grasshoppers, and I'm going to be a cattle king
+    and then you can be a cattle queen and ride around with me on
+    our ranch, that's what they call a farm out there. Now,
+    you're my girl and you must wait for me to come back. Don't
+    you get impatient, sometimes a chap has a hard time just to
+    get a start, after that it's easy. Jack will go with me, he
+    will be my friend and share everything.
+
+    "Now you come and call me sweetheart and I'll call you angel,
+    for that's what you are. Get to be a great singer, and go
+    about the country singing to make men like me good, you can
+    do it, only don't let them fall in love with you, they do
+    that too just the way I did, but don't let 'em do it for you
+    are mine. You're my sweetheart. From your sweetheart,
+
+    "HARRY EXCELL, Cattle King."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE CAGE OPENS
+
+
+Before Harold's day of freedom came Mary was called home by a telegram
+from her father. She longed to see Harold before she left, but she was
+too much hurried to seek out Jack, the loyal go-between, and dared not
+send a letter by any other hands. She went away without sending him a
+word of good-by.
+
+So it happened that the last week of Harold's captivity was spent in
+loneliness and bitter sorrow, and even when Jack came he brought very
+little information concerning Mary's flight, and Harold was bitter and
+accusing.
+
+"Why didn't she write to me? Why didn't she come to see me?"
+
+Jack pleaded for her as well as he was able. "She hadn't time, maybe."
+
+Harold refused to accept this explanation. "If she had cared for me,
+she'd have sent me word--she could take time for that."
+
+No letter came in the days which followed, and at last he put her out of
+his heart and turned his face to the sunset land which now called to
+the sad heart within him with imperious voice. Out there he could forget
+all his hurts.
+
+On the morning when the jailer opened the door for him to leave the iron
+corridor in which he had spent so many months, his father met him, and
+the white face of the boy made the father's heart contract. Harold's
+cheeks were plump and boyish, but there was a look in his face which
+made him seem a youth of twenty.
+
+The family stood in the jailer's parlor to receive him, and he submitted
+to their caresses with cold dignity. His manner plainly expressed this
+feeling: "You are all strangers to me." But he turned to Jack and
+gripped his hand hard. "Now for the plains!"
+
+Side by side the father and son passed out into the sunshine. The boy
+drew an audible breath, as if in sudden, keen pain. Around him lay the
+bare, brown earth of March. The sun was warm and a subtle odor of lately
+uncovered sward was in the air. The wind, soft, warm, and steady, blew
+from the west. Here and there a patch of grass, faintly green, showed
+where sullen snow banks had lately lain. And the sky! Filled with clouds
+almost as fleecy and as white as June, the sky covered him, and when he
+raised his eyes to it he saw a triangular flock of geese sweeping to
+the northwest, serene and apparently effortless.
+
+He could not speak--did not wish to hear any speech but that of Nature,
+and the father seemed to comprehend his son's mood, for he, too, walked
+in silence.
+
+The people of the village knew that Harold was to return to freedom that
+day, and with one excuse or another they came to the doors to see him
+pass. Some of them were genuinely sympathetic, and bowed and smiled,
+intending to say, "Let by-gones be by-gones," but to their greetings
+Harold remained blankly unresponsive. Jack would gladly have walked with
+Harold, but out of consideration for the father fell into step behind.
+
+The girls--some of them--had the grace to weep when they saw Harold's
+sad face. Others tittered and said: "Ain't he awful pale." For the most
+part, the citizens considered his punishment sufficient, and were
+disposed to give him another chance. To them, Harold, by his manner,
+intended to reply: "I don't want any favors. I won't accept any chance
+from you. I despise you and I don't want to see you again."
+
+He looked upon the earth and the sky rather than upon the faces of his
+fellows. His natural love of Nature had been intensified by his
+captivity, while a bitter contempt and suspicion of all men and women
+had grown up in his mind. He entered his father's house with reluctance
+and loathing.
+
+The day was one of preparation. Jack had carried out, so far as he well
+could, the captive's wishes. His gun, his clothing, and his valise were
+ready for him, and Mrs. Excell had washed and ironed all his linen with
+scrupulous care. His sister Maud had made a little "housewife" for him,
+and filled it with buttons and needles and thread, a gift he did not
+value, even from her.
+
+"I'm going out West to herd cattle, not to cobble trousers," he said
+contemptuously.
+
+Jack had a report to make. "Harry, I've found a chance for you," he said
+when they were alone. "There was a man moving to Colorado here on
+Saturday. He said he could use you, but of course I had to tell him you
+couldn't go for a few days. He's just about to Roseville now. I'll tell
+you what you do. You get on the train and go to Roseville--I'll let you
+have the money--and you strike him when he comes through. His name is
+Pratt. He's a tall old chap, talks queer. Of course he may have a hand
+now, but anyway you must get out o' here. He wouldn't take you if he
+knew you'd been in jail."
+
+"Aren't you going?" asked Harold sharply.
+
+Jack looked uneasy. "Not now, Harry. You see, I want to graduate, I'm so
+near through. It wouldn't do to quit now. I'll stay till fall. I'll get
+to Uncle John's place about the time you do."
+
+Harold said no more, but his face darkened with disappointment.
+
+The call to dinner brought them all together once more, and the
+minister's grace became a short prayer for the safety of his son, broken
+again and again by the weakness of his own voice and by the sobs of Maud
+and Mrs. Excell. Harold sat with rigid face, fixed in a frown. The meal
+proceeded in sad silence, for each member of the family felt that Harold
+was leaving them never to return.
+
+Jack's plan was determined upon, and after dinner he went to hitch up
+his horse to take Harry out to the farm. The family sat in painful
+suspense for a few moments after Jack went out, and then Mr. Excell
+said:
+
+"My son, we have never been friends, and the time is past when I can
+expect to win your love and confidence, but I hope you will not go away
+with any bitterness in your heart toward me." He waited a moment for his
+son to speak, but Harold continued silent, which again confused and
+pained the father, but he went on: "In proof of what I say I want to
+offer you some money to buy a horse and saddle when you need them."
+
+"I don't need any money," said Harold, a little touched by the affection
+in his father's voice. "I can earn all the money I need."
+
+"Perhaps so, but a little money might be useful at the start. You will
+need a horse if you herd cattle."
+
+"I'll get my own horse--you'll need all you can earn," said Harold in
+reply.
+
+Mr. Excell's tone changed. "What makes you say that, Harold? What do you
+mean?"
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean anything in particular."
+
+"Have you heard of the faction which is growing up in the church against
+me?"
+
+Harold hesitated. "Yes--but I wasn't thinking of that particularly." He
+betrayed a little interest. "What's the matter with 'em?"
+
+"There has been an element in the church hostile to me from the first,
+and during your trial and sentence these persons have used every effort
+to spread a feeling against me. How wide it is I can not tell, but I
+know it is strong. It may end my work here, for I will not cringe to
+them. They will find me iron."
+
+Harold's heart warmed suddenly. Without knowing it the father had again
+struck the right note to win his son. "That's right," the boy said,
+"don't let 'em tramp on you."
+
+A lump arose in the minister's throat. There was something very sweet in
+Harold's sympathy. His eyes smiled, even while they were dim with tears.
+He held out his hand and Harold took it.
+
+"Well, now, my son, it's time for you to start. Don't you worry about
+me. I am a fighter when I am aroused."
+
+Harold smiled back into his face, and so it was that the two men parted,
+for the father, in a flash of insight, understood that no more than this
+could be gained; but his heart was lighter than it had been for many
+months as he saw his son ride away from his door.
+
+"Write often, Harold," he called after them.
+
+"All right. You let me know how the fight comes out. If they whip you,
+come out West," was Harold's reply; then he turned in his seat. "Drive
+ahead, Jack; there's no one now but your folks for whom I care."
+
+As they drove out along the muddy lanes the hearts of the two boys
+became very tender. Harold, filled with exaltation by every familiar
+thing--by the flights of ground sparrows, by the patches of green grass,
+by the smell of the wind, by the infrequent boom of the prairie
+chickens--talked incessantly.
+
+"What makes me maddest," he broke out, "is to think they've cheated me
+out of seeing one fall and one winter. I didn't see the geese fly
+south, and now here they are all going north again. Some time I mean to
+find out where they go to." He took off his hat. "This wind will mighty
+soon take the white out o' me, won't it?" He was very gay. He slapped
+his chum on the shoulder and shouted with excitement. "We must keep
+going, old man, till we strike the buffalo. They are the sign of wild
+country that _is_ wild. I want to get where there ain't any fences."
+
+Jack smiled sadly in reply. Harold knew he listened and so talked on. "I
+must work up a big case of sunburn before I strike Mr. Pratt for a job.
+Did he have extra horses?"
+
+"'Bout a dozen. His girl was driving the cattle, but he said----"
+
+"Girl? What kind of a girl?"
+
+"Oh, a kind of a tomboy, freckled--chews gum and says 'darn it!' That
+kind of a girl."
+
+Harold's face darkened. "I don't like the idea of that girl. She might
+have heard something, and then it would go hard with me."
+
+"Don't you worry. The Pratts ain't the kind of people that read
+newspapers; they didn't stop here but a day, anyhow."
+
+The sight of Mr. Burns and his wife at the gate moved Harold deeply.
+Mrs. Burns came hurrying out: "You blessed boy! Get right down and let
+me hug you," and as he leaped down she put her arms around him as if he
+were her own son, and Harold's eyes smarted with tears.
+
+"I declare," said Mr. Burns, "you look like a fightin' cock; must feed
+you well down there?"
+
+No note of doubt, hesitation, concealment, or shame was in their
+greetings and the boy knew it. They all sat around the kitchen, and
+chatted and laughed as if no ill thing had ever happened to him. Burns
+uttered the only doubtful word when he said: "I don't know about this
+running away from things here. I'd be inclined to stay here and fight it
+out."
+
+"But it isn't running away, Dad," said Jack. "Harry has always wanted to
+go West and now is the first time he has really had the chance."
+
+"That's so," admitted the father. "Still, I'm sorry to see him look like
+he was running away."
+
+Mrs. Burns was determined to feed Harry into complete torpor. She put up
+enough food in a basket to last him to San Francisco at the shortest.
+Even when the boys had entered the buggy she ordered them to wait while
+she brought out some sweet melon pickles in a jar to add to the
+collection.
+
+"Well, now, good-by," said Harold, reaching down his hand to Mrs.
+Burns, who seized it in both hers.
+
+"You poor thing, don't let the Indians scalp ye."
+
+"No danger o' that," he called back.
+
+"Be good to yourself," shouted Burns, and the buggy rolled through the
+gate into the west as the red sun was setting and the prairie cocks were
+crowing.
+
+The boys talked their plans all over again while the strong young horse
+spattered through the mud. Slowly the night fell, and as they rode under
+the branches of the oaks, Jack took courage to say:
+
+"I wish Miss Yardwell had been here, Harry."
+
+"It's no use talking about her; she don't care two straws for me; if she
+had she would have written to me, at least."
+
+"Her mother may have been dying."
+
+"Even that needn't keep her from letting me know or sending some word.
+She didn't care for me--she was just trying to convert me."
+
+"She wasn't the kind of a girl who flirts. By jinks! You should see her
+look right through the boys that used to try to walk home with her after
+prayer meeting. They never tried it a second time. She's a wonder that
+way. One strange thing about her, she never acts like other girls. You
+know what I mean? She's different. She's going to be a singer, and
+travel around giving concerts--she told me so once."
+
+Harold was disposed to be fair. "I don't want anybody to feel sorry for
+me. I suppose she felt that way, and tried to help me." Here he paused
+and his voice changed. "But when I'm a cattle king out West and can buy
+her the best home in Des Moines--maybe she won't pity me so much.
+Anyhow, there's nothing left for me but to emigrate. There's no use
+stayin' around here. Out there is the place for me now."
+
+Jack put Harold down at the station and turned over to him all the money
+he had in the world. Harold took it, saying:
+
+"Now you'll get this back with interest, old man. I need it now, but I
+won't six months from now. I'm going to strike a job before long--don't
+you worry."
+
+Their good-by was awkward and constrained, and Harold felt the parting
+more keenly than he dared to show. Jack rode away crying--a brother
+could not have been more troubled. It seemed that the bitterness of
+death was in this good-by.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+ON THE WING
+
+
+When Harold arose the next morning his cheeks were still red with the
+touch of the wind and sun and he looked like a college student just
+entering upon a vacation. His grace and dignity of bearing set him apart
+from the rough workmen with whom he ate, and he did not exchange a
+single word with anyone but the landlord. As soon as breakfast was over
+he went out into the town.
+
+Roseville had only one street, and it was not difficult to learn that
+Pratt had not yet appeared upon the scene. It was essentially a prairie
+village; no tree broke the smooth horizon line. A great many emigrants
+were in motion, and their white-topped wagons suggested the sails of
+minute craft on the broad ocean as they came slowly up the curve to the
+East and fell away down the slope to the West. To all of these Harold
+applied during the days that followed, but received no offer which
+seemed to promise so well as that of Mr. Pratt, so he waited. At last
+he came, a tall, sandy-bearded fellow, who walked beside a four-horse
+team drawing two covered wagons tandem. Behind him straggled a bunch of
+bony cattle and some horses, herded by a girl and a small boy. The girl
+rode a mettlesome little pony, sitting sidewise on a man's saddle.
+
+"Wal--I d'n know," the old man replied in answer to Harold's question.
+"I did 'low fer to get some help, but Jinnie she said she'd bring 'em
+along fer fifty cents a day, an' she's boss, stranger. If she's sick o'
+the job, why, I'll make out with ye. Jinnie, come here."
+
+Jinnie rode up, eyeing the stranger sharply. "What's up, Dad?"
+
+"Here's another young fellow after your job."
+
+"Well, if he'll work cheap he can have it," replied the girl promptly.
+"I don't admire to ride in this mud any longer."
+
+Pratt smiled. "I reckon that lets you in, stranger, ef we can come to
+terms. We ain't got any money to throw away, but we'll do the best we
+kin."
+
+"I'll tell you what you do. You turn that pony and saddle over to me
+when we get through, and I'll call it square."
+
+"Well, I reckon you won't," said the girl, throwing back her sunbonnet
+as if in challenge. "That's my pony, and nobody gets him without blood,
+and don't you forget it, sonny."
+
+She was a large-featured girl, so blonde as to be straw-colored, even to
+the lashes of her eyes, but her teeth were very white, and her lips a
+vivid pink. She had her father's humorous smile, and though her words
+were bluff, her eyes betrayed that she liked Harold at once.
+
+Harold smiled back at her. "Well, I'll take the next best, that roan
+there."
+
+The boy burst into wild clamor: "Not by a darn sight, you don't. That's
+my horse, an' no sucker like you ain't goin' to ride him, nuther."
+
+"Why don't _you_ ride him?" asked Harold.
+
+The boy looked foolish. "I'm goin' to, some day."
+
+"He can't," said the girl, "and I don't think you can."
+
+Pratt grinned. "Wal, you see how it is, youngster, you an' me has got to
+get down to a money basis. Them young uns claim all my stawk."
+
+Harold said: "Pay me what you can," and Pratt replied: "Wal, throw your
+duds into that hind wagon. We've got to camp somewhere 'fore them durn
+critters eat up all the fences."
+
+As Harold was helping to unhitch the team the girl came around and
+studied him with care.
+
+"Say, what's your name?"
+
+"Moses," he instantly replied.
+
+"Moses what?"
+
+"Oh, let it go at Mose."
+
+"Hain't you got no other name?"
+
+"I did have but the wind blew it away."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+"Moses N. Hardluck."
+
+"You're terrible cute, ain't you?"
+
+"Not so very, or I wouldn't be working for my board."
+
+"You hain't never killed yourself with hard work, by the looks o' them
+hands."
+
+"Oh, I've been going to school."
+
+"A'huh! I thought you had. You talk pretty hifalutin' fer a real workin'
+man. I tell ye what I think--you're a rich man's son, and you've run
+away."
+
+"Come, gal, get that coffee bilin'," called the mother. Mrs. Pratt was a
+wizened little woman, so humped by labor and chills and fever that she
+seemed deformed. Her querulousness was not so much ill-natured as
+plaintive.
+
+"He _says_ his name is Mose Hardluck," Harold heard the girl say, and
+that ended all further inquiry. He became simply "Mose" to them.
+
+There was a satisfying charm to the business of camping out which now
+came to be the regular order of living to him. By day the cattle, thin
+and poor, crawled along patiently, waiting for feeding time to come,
+catching at such bunches of dry grass as came within their reach, and at
+their heels rode Harold on an old black mare, his clear voice urging the
+herd forward. At noon and again at night Pratt halted the wagons beside
+the road and while the women got supper or dinner Harold helped Pratt
+take care of the stock, which he was obliged to feed. "I started a
+little airly," he said at least a score of times in the first week. "But
+I wanted to get a good start agin grass come."
+
+Harold was naturally handy at camping, and his ready and skillful hands
+became very valuable around the camp fire. He was quick and cheerful,
+and apparently tireless, and before the end of the week Jennie said:
+
+"Say, Mose, you can ride my horse if you want to."
+
+"Much obliged, but I guess I'll hang on to the black mare."
+
+At this point Dannie, not to be outdone, chirped shrilly: "You can break
+my horse if you want to."
+
+So a few days later Harold, with intent to check the girl in her growing
+friendliness, as well as to please himself, replied: "I guess I'll break
+Dan's colt."
+
+He began by caressing the horse at every opportunity, leaning against
+him, or putting one arm over his back, to let him feel the weight of his
+body. At last he leaped softly up and hung partly over his back.
+Naturally the colt shied and reared, but Harold dropped off instantly
+and renewed his petting and soothing. It was not long before the pony
+allowed him to mount, and nothing remained but to teach him to endure
+the saddle and the bridle. This was done by belting him and checking him
+to a pad strapped upon his back. He struggled fiercely to rid himself of
+these fetters. He leaped in the air, fell, rolled over, backing and
+wheeling around and around till Dan grew dizzy watching him.
+
+A bystander once said: "Why don't you climb onto him and stay with him
+till he gets sick o' pitchin'; that's what a broncho buster would do."
+
+"Because I don't want him 'busted'; I want him taught that I'm his
+friend," said Harold.
+
+In the end "Jack," as Harold called the roan, walked up to his master
+and rubbed his nose against his shoulder. Harold then stripped away the
+bridle and pad at once, and when he put them on next day Jack winced,
+but did not plunge, and Harold mounted him. A day or two later the colt
+worked under the saddle like an old horse. Thereafter it was a matter
+of making him a horse of finished education. He was taught not to trot,
+but to go directly from the walk to the "lope." He acquired a swift walk
+and a sort of running trot--that is, he trotted behind and rose in front
+with a wolflike action of the fore feet. He was guided by the touch of
+the rein on the neck or by the pressure of his rider's knee on his
+shoulder.
+
+He was taught to stand without hitching and to allow his rider to mount
+on either side. This was a trick which Harold learned of a man who had
+been with the Indians. "You see," he said, "an Injun can't afford to
+have a horse that will only let him climb on from the nigh side, he has
+to get there in a hurry sometimes, and any side at all will do him."
+
+It was well that Jack was trained early, for as they drew out on the
+open prairie and the feed became better the horses and cattle were less
+easy to drive. Each day the interest grew. The land became wilder and
+the sky brighter. The grass came on swiftly, and crocuses and dandelions
+broke from the sod on the sunny side of smooth hills. The cranes, with
+their splendid challenging cries, swept in wide circles through the sky.
+Ducks and geese moved by in myriads, straight on, delaying not. Foxes
+barked on the hills at sunset, and the splendid chorus of the prairie
+chickens thickened day by day.
+
+It was magnificent, and Harold was happy. True, it was not all play.
+There were muddy roads to plod through and treacherous sloughs to cross.
+There were nights when camp had to be pitched in rain, and mornings when
+he was obliged to rise stiff and sore to find the cattle strayed away
+and everything wet and grimy. But the sunshine soon warmed his back and
+dried up the mud under his feet. Each day the way grew drier and the
+flowers more abundant. Each day signs of the wild life thickened.
+Antlers of elk, horns of the buffalo, crates of bones set around shallow
+water holes, and especially the ever-thickening game trails furrowing
+the hills filled the boy's heart with delight. This was the kind of life
+he wished to see. They were now beyond towns, and only occasionally
+small settlements relieved the houseless rolling plains. Soon the
+Missouri, that storied and muddy old stream, would offer itself to view.
+
+"Mose" was now indispensable to the Pratt "outfit." He built fires, shot
+game, herded the cattle, greased the wagons, curried horses, and mended
+harness. He never complained and never grew sullen. Although he talked
+but little, the family were fond of him, but considered him a "singular
+critter." He had lost his pallor. His skin was a clear brown, and being
+dressed in rough clothing, wide hat, and gauntlet gloves, he made a bold
+and dashing herder, showing just the right kind of wear and tear.
+Occasionally, when a chance to earn a few dollars offered, Pratt camped
+and took a job, and Harold shared in the wages.
+
+He spent a great deal of his pocket money in buying cartridges for his
+revolver. He shot at everything which offered a taking mark, and became
+so expert that Dan bowed down before him, and Mrs. Pratt considered him
+dangerous.
+
+"It ain't natural fer to be so durned sure-pop on game," she said one
+day. "Doggone it, I'd want 'o miss 'em once in a while just fer to be
+aigged on fer to try again. First you know, you'll be obliged fer to
+shoot standin' on your haid like these yere champin' shooters that go
+'round the kentry givin' shows, you shorely will, Mose."
+
+Mose only laughed. "I want to be just as good a shot as anybody," he
+said, turning to Pratt.
+
+"You'll be it ef you don't wear out your gun a-doin' of it," replied the
+boss.
+
+These were splendid days. Each sundown they camped nearer to the land of
+the buffalo, and when the work was done and the supper eaten, Mose took
+his pipe and his gun and walked away to some ridge, there to sit while
+the yellow light faded out of the sky. He was as happy as one of his
+restless nature could properly hope to be, but sometimes when he thought
+of Mary his heart ached a little; he forgot her only when his
+imagination set wing into the sunset sky.
+
+One other thing troubled him a little. Rude, plain Jennie was in love
+with him. Daily intercourse with a youngster half as attractive as Mose
+would have had the same effect upon her, for she was at that age when
+propinquity makes sentiment inevitable. She could scarcely keep her eyes
+from him during hours in camp, and on the drive she rode with him four
+times as long as he wished for. She bothered him, and yet she was so
+good and generous he could not rebuff her; he could only endure.
+
+She had one accomplishment: she could ride like a Sioux, either astride
+or womanwise, with a saddle or without, and many a race they had as the
+roads grew firm and dry. She was scrawny and flat-chested, but agile as
+a boy when occasion demanded. She was fearless, too, of man or beast,
+and once when her father became crazy with liquor (which was his
+weakness) she went with Mose to bring him from a saloon, where he stood
+boasting of his powers as a fighter with the bowie knife.
+
+As they entered Jennie walked straight up to him: "Dad, you come home.
+Come right out o' yere."
+
+He looked at her for a moment until his benumbed brain took in her words
+and all their meaning; then he said: "All right, Jinnie, just wait a
+second till I have another horn with these yer gents----"
+
+"Horn nawthin," she said in reply, and seized him by the arm. "You come
+along."
+
+He submitted without a struggle, and on the way out grew plaintive.
+"Jinnie, gal," he kept saying, "I'm liable to get dry before mornin', I
+shore am; ef you'd only jest let me had one more gill----"
+
+"Oh, shet up, Dad. Ef you git dry I'll bring the hull crick in fer ye to
+drink," was her scornful reply.
+
+After he was safe in bed Jennie came over to the wagon where Mose was
+smoking.
+
+"Men are the blamedest fools," she began abruptly; "'pears like they
+ain't got the sense of a grayback louse, leastways some of 'em. Now,
+there's dad, filled up on stuff they call whisky out yer, and
+consequence is he can't eat any grub for two days or more. Doggone it,
+it makes me huffy, it plum does. Mam has put up with it fer twenty
+years, which is just twenty more than I'd stand it, and don't you forget
+it. When I marry a man it will be a man with sense 'nough not to pizen
+hisself on rot-gut whisky."
+
+Without waiting for a reply she turned away and went to bed in the
+bottom of the hinder wagon. Mose smoked his pipe out and rolled himself
+in his blanket near the smoldering camp fire.
+
+Pratt was feeble and very long faced and repentant at breakfast. His
+appetite was gone. Mrs. Pratt said nothing, but pressed him to eat.
+"Come, Paw, a gill or two o' cawfee will do ye good," she said. "Cawfee
+is a great heatoner," she said to Mose. "When I'm so misorified of a
+moarnin' I can't eat a mossel o' bacon or pork, I kin take a gill o'
+cawfee an' it shore helps me much."
+
+Pratt looked around sheepishly. "I do reckon I made a plum ejot of
+myself last night."
+
+"As ush'll," snapped Jennie. "You wanted to go slicin' every man in
+sight up, just fer to show you could swing a bowie knife when you was on
+airth the first time."
+
+"Now that's the quare thing, Mose; a peacebbler man than me don't live;
+Jinnie says I couldn't lick a hearty bedbug, but when I git red liquor
+into my insides I'm a terror to near neighbours, so they say. I can't
+well remember just what do take place 'long towards the fo'th drink."
+
+"Durn lucky you can't. You'd never hole up your head again. A plummer
+fool you never see," said Jennie, determined to drive his shame home to
+him.
+
+Pratt sighed, understood perfectly the meaning of all this vituperation.
+"Well, Mam, we'll try again. I think I'm doin' pretty good when I go two
+munce, don't you?"
+
+"It's more'n that, Paw," said Mrs. Pratt, eager to encourage him at the
+right moment. "It's sixty-four days. You gained four days on it this
+time."
+
+Pratt straightened up and smiled. "That so, Mam? Wal, that shorely is a
+big gain."
+
+He took Mose aside after breakfast and solemnly said:
+
+"Wimern-folk is a heap better'n men-folks. Now, me or you couldn't stand
+in wimern-folks what they put up with in men-folks. 'Pears like they air
+finer built, someway." After a pause he said with great earnestness:
+"Don't you drink red liquor, Mose; it shore makes a man no account."
+
+"Don't you worry, Cap. I'm not drinkin' liquor of any color."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE UPWARD TRAIL
+
+
+Once across the Missouri the trail began to mount. "Here is the true
+buffalo country," thought Mose, as they came to the treeless hills of
+the Great Muddy Water. On these smooth buttes Indian sentinels had
+stood, morning and evening, through a thousand years, to signal the
+movement of the wild herds, and from other distant hills columns of
+smoke by day, or the flare of signal fires at night, had warned the
+chieftains of the approach of enemies. Down these grassy gulches, around
+these sugar-loaf mesas, the giant brown cattle of the plains had crawled
+in long, dark, knobby lines. On the green bottoms they had mated and fed
+and fought in thousands, roaring like lions, their huge hoofs flinging
+the alkaline earth in showers above their heads, their tongues curling,
+their tails waving like banners.
+
+Mose was already deeply learned in all these dramas. All that he had
+ever heard or read of the wild country remained in his mind. He cared
+nothing about the towns or the fame of cities, but these deep-worn
+trails of shaggy beasts filled him with joy. Their histories were more
+to him than were the wars of Cyrus and Hannibal. He questioned all the
+men he met, and their wisdom became his.
+
+Slowly the movers wound their way up the broad, sandy river which came
+from the wilder spaces of the West. The prairie was gone. The tiger
+lily, the sweet Williams, the pinks, together with the luxuriant
+meadows and the bobolinks, were left behind. In their stead, a
+limitless, upward shelving plain outspread, covered with a short, surly,
+hairlike grass and certain sturdy, resinous plants supporting flowers of
+an unpleasant odor, sticky and weedy. Bristling cacti bulged from the
+sod; small Quaker-gray sparrows and larks were the only birds. In the
+swales blue joint grew rank. The only trees were cottonwoods and cutleaf
+willow, scattered scantily along the elbows in the river.
+
+At last they came to the home of the prairie dog and the antelope--the
+buffalo could not be far away! So wide was the earth, so all-embracing
+the sky, they seemed to blend at the horizon line, and lakes of water
+sprang into view, filling a swale in the sod--mystic and beautiful, only
+to vanish like cloud shadows.
+
+The cattle country was soon at hand. Cowboys in sombreros and
+long-heeled boots, with kerchiefs knotted about their necks, careered
+on swift ponies in and out of the little towns or met the newcomers on
+the river road. They rode in a fashion new to Mose, with toes pointed
+straight down, the weight of their bodies a little on one side. They
+skimmed the ground like swallows, forcing their ponies mercilessly.
+Their saddles were very heavy, with high pommels and leather-covered
+stirrups, and Mose determined to have one at once. Some of them carried
+rifles under their legs in a long holster.
+
+Realizing that those were the real "cow-punchers," the youth studied
+their outfits as keenly as a country girl scrutinizes the new gown of a
+visiting city cousin. He changed his manner of riding (which was more
+nearly that of the cavalry) to theirs. He slung a red kerchief around
+his neck, and bought a pair of "chaps," a sort of fringed leather
+leggings. He had been wearing his pistol at his side, he now slewed it
+around to his hip. He purchased also a pair of high-heeled boots and a
+"rope" (no one called it a "lariat"), and began to acquire the
+technicalities of the range. A horse that reared and leaped to fling its
+rider was said to "pitch." Any firearm was a "gun," and any bull, steer,
+or heifer, a "cow." In a few days all these distinctions had been
+mastered, and only the closest observer was able to "cut out" Mose as a
+"tenderfoot."
+
+Pratt was bound for his brother's ranch on the Big Sandy River, and so
+pushed on steadily, although it was evident that he was not looked upon
+with favor. He had reached a section of country where the cattlemen eyed
+his small outfit with contempt and suspicion. He came under the head of
+a "nester," or "truck farmer," who was likely to fence in the river
+somewhere and homestead some land. He was another menace to the range,
+and was to be discouraged. The mutter of war was soon heard.
+
+One day a couple of whisky-heated cowboys rode furiously up behind Mose
+and called out:
+
+"Where in h--l ye think ye're goin', you dam cow milker?"
+
+Mose was angry on the instant and sullenly said: "None of your
+business."
+
+After threatening to blow his liver into bits they rode on and repeated
+their question to Pratt, who significantly replied: "I'm a-goin' to the
+mouth o' the Cannon Ball ef I don't miss it. Any objection?"
+
+"You bet we have, you rowdy baggage puller. You better keep out o' here;
+the climate's purty severe."
+
+Pratt smiled grimly. "I'm usen to that, boys," he replied, and the
+cowboys rode on, cursing him for a fool.
+
+At last, late in July, the mouth of the Cannon Ball was reached. One
+afternoon they cut across a peninsular body of high land and came in
+sight of a wide green flat (between two sluggish, percolating streams)
+whereon a cluster of gray log buildings stood.
+
+"I reckon that's Jake's," said Pratt as they halted to let the horses
+breathe. A minute, zig-zag line of deep green disclosed the course of
+the Cannon Ball, deep sunk in the gravelly soil as it came down to join
+the Big Sandy. All about stood domed and pyramidal and hawk-headed
+buttes. On the river bank huge old cottonwoods, worn and leaning,
+offered the only shadow in a land flooded with vehement, devouring
+light. The long journey was at an end.
+
+Daniel raised a peculiar halloo, which brought a horseman hurrying out
+to meet him. The brother had not forgotten their boyish signal. He rode
+up swiftly and slid from his horse without speaking.
+
+Jake resembled his brother in appearance, but his face was sterner and
+his eyes keener. He had been made a bold, determined man by the pressure
+of harsher circumstances. He shook his brother by the hand in
+self-contained fashion.
+
+"Wal, Dan'l, I'm right glad you got h'yer safe. I reckon this is Miss
+Jinnie--she's a right hearty girl, ain't she? Mrs. Pratt, I'm heartily
+glad to see ye. This yer little man must be the tit-man. What's your
+name, sonny?"
+
+"Dan. H. Pratt," piped the boy.
+
+"Ah--hah! Wal, sir, I reckon you'll make a right smart of a cowboy yet.
+What's this?" he said, turning to Mose. "This ain't no son-in-law, I
+reckon!"
+
+At this question all laughed, Jennie most immoderately of all.
+
+"Not yit, Uncle Jake."
+
+Mose turned red, being much more embarrassed than Jennie. He was indeed
+enraged, for it hurt his pride to be counted a suitor of this ungainly
+and ignorant girl. Right there he resolved to flee at the first
+opportunity. Distressful days were at hand.
+
+"You've been a long time gettin' here, Dan."
+
+"Wal, we've had some bad luck. Mam was sick for a spell, and then we had
+to lay by an' airn a little money once in a while. I'm glad I'm
+here--'peared like we'd wear the hoofs off'n our stawk purty soon." Jake
+sobered down first. "Wal, now I reckon you best unhook right h'yer for a
+day or two till we get a minute to look around and see where we're at."
+So, clucking to the tired horses the train entered upon its last half
+mile of a long journey.
+
+Jake's wife, a somber and very reticent woman, with a slender figure and
+a girlish head, met them at the door of the cabin. Her features were
+unusually small for a woman of her height, and, as she shook hands
+silently, Mose looked into her sad dark eyes and liked her very much.
+She had no children; the two in which she had once taken a mother's joy
+slept in two little mounds on the hill just above the house. She seemed
+glad of the coming of her sister-in-law, though she did not stop to say
+so, but returned to the house to hurry supper forward.
+
+After the meal was eaten the brothers lit their pipes and sauntered out
+to the stables, where they sat down for a long talk. Mose followed them
+silently and sat near to listen.
+
+"Now, Dan'l," Jake began, "I'm mighty glad you've come and brought this
+yer young feller. We need ye both bad! It's like this"--he paused and
+looked around; "I don't want the wimern folks to hear," he explained.
+"Times is goin' to be lively here, shore. They's a big fight on 'twixt
+us truck farmers and the cattle ranchers. You see, the cattlemen has had
+the free range so long they naturally 'low they own it, and they have
+the nerve to tell us fellers to keep off. They explain smooth enough
+that they ain't got nawthin' agin me pussonally--you understand--only
+they 'low me settlin' h'yer will bring others, which is shore about
+right, fer h'yer you be, kit an' caboodle. Now you comin' in will set
+things a-whoopin', an' it ain't no Sunday-school picnic we're a-facin'.
+We're goin' to plant some o' these men before this is settled. The hull
+cattle business is built up on robbing the Government. I've said so, an'
+they're down on me already."
+
+As Jake talked the night fell, and the boy's hair began to stir. A wolf
+was "yapping" on a swell, and a far-off heron was uttering his booming
+cry. Over the ridges, which cut sharply into the fleckless dull-yellow
+sky, lay unknown lands out of which almost any variety of fierce
+marauder might ride. Surely this was the wild country of which he had
+read, where men could talk so glibly of murder and violent death.
+
+"When I moved in here three years ago," continued Jake, "they met me and
+told me to get out. I told 'em I weren't takin' a back track that year.
+One night they rode down a-whoopin' and a-shoutin', and I natcherly
+poked my gun out'n the winder and handed out a few to 'em--an' they rode
+off. Next year quite a little squad o' truck farmers moved into the bend
+just below, an' we got together and talked it over and agreed to stand
+by. We planted two more o' them, and they got one on us. They control
+the courts, and so we have got to fight. They've got a judge that suits
+'em now, and this year will be hot--it will, sure."
+
+Dan'l Pratt smoked for a full minute before he said: "You didn't write
+nothin' of this, Jake."
+
+Jake grinned. "I didn't want to disappoint you, Dan. I knew your heart
+was set on comin'."
+
+"Wal, I didn't 'low fer to hunt up no furss," Dan slowly said; "but the
+feller that tramps on me is liable to sickness."
+
+Jake chuckled. "I know that, Dan; but how about this young feller?"
+
+"He's all right. He kin shoot like a circus feller, and I reckon he'll
+stay right by."
+
+Mose, with big heart, said, "You bet I will."
+
+"That's the talk. Well, now, let's go to bed. I've sent word to
+Jennison--he's our captain--and to-morrow we'll settle you on the mouth
+o' the creek, just above here. It's a monstrous fine piece o' ground; I
+know you'll like it."
+
+Mose slept very little that night. He found himself holding his breath
+in order to be sure that the clamor of a coyote was not a cowboy signal
+of attack. There was something vastly convincing in Jake Pratt's quiet
+drawl as he set forth the cause for war.
+
+Early the next morning, Jennison, the leader of the settlers, came
+riding into the yard. He was tall, grim lipped and curt spoken. He had
+been a captain in the Union Army of Volunteers, and was plainly a man of
+inflexible purpose and resolution.
+
+"How d'e do, gentlemen?" he called pleasantly, as he reined in his
+foaming broncho. "Nice day."
+
+"Mighty purty. Light off, cap'n, an' shake hands with my brother Dan'l."
+
+Jennison dismounted calmly and easily, dropping the rein over the head
+of his wild broncho, and after shaking hands all around, said:
+
+"Well, neighbor, I'm right glad to see ye. Jake, your brother, has been
+savin' up a homestead for ye--and I reckon he's told you that a mighty
+purty fight goes with it. You see it's this way: The man that has the
+water has the grass and the circle, for by fencing in the river here
+controls the grass for twenty miles. They can range the whole country;
+nobody else can touch 'em. Williams, of the Circle Bar, controls the
+river for twenty miles here, and has fenced it in. Of course he has no
+legal right to more than a section or two of it--all the rest is a
+steal--the V. T. outfit joins him on the West, and so on. They all
+stand to keep out settlement--any kind--and they'll make a fight on
+you--the thing for you to do is move right in on the flat Jake has
+picked out for you, and meet all comers."
+
+To this Pratt said: "'Pears to me, captain, that I'd better see if I
+can't make some peaceabler arrangement."
+
+"We've tried all peaceable means," replied Jennison impatiently. "The
+fact is, the whole cattle business as now constituted is a steal. It
+rests on a monopoly of Government land. It's got to go. Settlement is
+creeping in and these big ranges which these 'cattle kings' have held,
+must be free. There is a war due between the sheepmen and the cattlemen,
+too, and our lay is to side in with the sheepmen. They are mainly
+Mexicans, but their fight is our feast."
+
+As day advanced men came riding in from the Cannon Ball and from far
+below on the Big Sandy, and under Jennison's leadership the wires of the
+Williams fence were cut and Daniel Pratt moved to the creek flat just
+above his brother's ranch. Axes rang in the cottonwoods, and when
+darkness came, the building of a rude, farmlike cabin went on by the
+light of big fires. Mose, in the thick of it, was a-quiver with
+excitement. The secrecy, the haste, the glory of flaring fires, the
+almost silent swarming of black figures filled his heart to the brim
+with exultation. He was satisfied, rapt with it as one in the presence
+of heroic music.
+
+But the stars paled before the dawn. The coyotes changed their barking
+to a solemn wail as though day came to rob them of some irredeemable
+joy. A belated prairie cock began to boom, and then tired, sleepy, and
+grimy, the men sat down to breakfast at Jacob Pratt's house. The deed
+had been done. Daniel had entered the lion's den.
+
+"Now," said Jennison grimly, "we'll just camp down here in Jake's barn
+to sleep, and if you need any help, let us know."
+
+The Pratts continued their work, and by noon a habitable shack was ready
+for Mrs. Pratt and the children. In the afternoon Mose and Daniel slept
+for a few hours while Jake kept watch. The day ended peacefully, but
+Jennison and one or two others remained to see the newcomer through a
+second night.
+
+They sat around a fire not far from the cabin and talked quietly of the
+most exciting things. The question of Indian outbreaks came up and
+Jennison said: "We won't have any more trouble with the Indians. The
+Regulars has broken their backs. They can't do anything now but die."
+
+"They hated to give up this land here," said a small, dark man. "I used
+to hear 'em talk it a whole lot. They made out a case."
+
+"Hank lived with 'em four years," Jennison explained to Daniel Pratt.
+
+"The Indians are a good deal better than we give 'em credit for bein',"
+said another man. "I lived next 'em in Minnesota and I never had no
+trouble."
+
+Jennison said decisively: "Oh, I guess if you treat 'em right they treat
+you right. Ain't that their way, Hank?"
+
+"Well, you see it's like this," said the hairy little man; "they're kind
+o' suspicious nacherly of the white man--they can't understand what he
+says, and they don't get his drift always. They make mistakes that way,
+but they mean all right. Of course they have young plug-uglies amongst
+'em jest the same as 'mongst any other c'munity, but the majority of 'em
+druther be peaceful with their neighbors. What makes 'em wildest is
+seein' the buffalo killed off. It's like you havin' your water right cut
+off."
+
+As the talk went on, Mose squatted there silently receiving instruction.
+His eyes burned through the dusk as he listened to the dark little man
+who spoke with a note of authority and decision in his voice. His words
+conveyed to Mose a conception of the Indian new to him. These "red
+devils" were people. In this man's talk they were husbands and fathers,
+and sons, and brothers. They loved these lands for which the cattlemen
+and sheepmen were now about to battle, and they had been dispossessed by
+the power of the United States Army, not by law and justice. A desire to
+know more of them, to see them in their homes, to understand their way
+of thinking, sprang up in the boy's brain.
+
+He edged over close to the plainsman and, in a pause in the talk,
+whispered to him: "I want you to tell me more about the Indians."
+
+The other man turned quickly and said: "Boy, they're my friends. In a
+show-down I'm on their side; my father was a half-breed."
+
+The night passed quietly and nearly all the men went home, leaving the
+Pratts to meet the storm alone, but Jennison had a final word. "You send
+your boy to yon butte, and wave a hat any time during the day and we'll
+come, side arms ready. I'll keep an eye on the butte all day and come up
+and see you to-night. Don't let 'em get the drop on ye."
+
+It was not until the third day that Williams, riding the line in person,
+came upon the new settler. He sat upon his horse and swore. His face was
+dark with passion, but after a few minutes' pause he drew rein and rode
+away.
+
+"Another butter maker," he said to his men as he slipped from the
+saddle at his own door, "some ten miles up the river."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Next to Pratt's. I reckon it's that brother o' his he's been talking
+about. They cut my wires and squatted on the Rosebud flat."
+
+"Give the word and we'll run 'em out," said one of his men. "Every
+son-of-a-gun of 'em."
+
+Williams shook his head. "No, that won't do. W've got to go slow in
+rippin' these squatters out o' their holes. They anchor right down to
+the roots of the tree of life. I reckon we've got to let 'em creep in;
+we'll scare 'em all we can before they settle, but when they settle
+we've got to go around 'em. If the man was a stranger we might do
+something, but Jake Pratt don't bluff--besides, boys, I've got worse
+news for you."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"A couple of Mexicans with five thousand sheep crossed Lizard Creek
+yesterday."
+
+The boys leaped to their feet, variously crying out: "Oh, come off! It
+can't be true."
+
+"It is true--I saw 'em myself," insisted Williams.
+
+"Well, that means war. Does the V. T. outfit know it?"
+
+"I don't think so. We've got to stand together now, or we'll be overrun
+with sheep. The truck farmers are a small matter compared to these
+cursed greasers."
+
+"I guess we'd better send word up the river, hadn't we?" asked his
+partner.
+
+"Yes, we want to let the whole county know it."
+
+Cheyenne County was an enormous expanse of hilly plain, if the two words
+may be used together. Low heights of sharp ascent, pyramid-shaped
+buttes, and wide benches (cut here and there by small creek valleys)
+made up its surface, which, broadly considered, was only the vast,
+treeless, slowly-rising eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains. At long
+distances, on the flat, sandy river, groups of squat and squalid ranch
+buildings huddled as if to escape the wind. For years it has been a
+superb range for cattle, and up till the coming of the first settlements
+on the Cannon Ball, it had been parceled out among a few big firms, who
+cut Government timber, dug Government stone, and pastured on Government
+grass. When the wolves took a few ponies, the ranchers seized the
+opportunity to make furious outcry and bring in the Government troops to
+keep the Indians in awe, and so possessed the land in serenity. Nothing
+could be more perfect, more commodious.
+
+But for several years before the coming of the Pratts certain other
+ominous events were taking place. Over the mountains from the West, or
+up the slope from New Mexico, enormous herds of small, greasy sheep
+began to appear. They were "walking" for better pasture, and where they
+went they destroyed the grasses and poisoned the ground with foul odors.
+Cattle and horses would not touch any grass which had been even touched
+by these ill-smelling woolly creatures. There had been ill-feeling
+between sheepmen and cattlemen from the first, but as water became
+scarcer and the range more fully stocked, bitterness developed into
+hatred and warfare. Sheep herders were considered outcasts, and of no
+social account. To kill one was by some considered a kindness, for it
+ended the misery of a man who would go crazy watching the shifting,
+crawling maggots anyway. It was bad enough to be a cow milker, but to be
+a sheep herder was living death.
+
+These herds thickened from year to year. They followed the feed, were
+clipped once, sometimes twice, and then were headed back to winter in
+the south, dying in myriads on the way--only to reappear augmented in
+numbers the succeeding year. They were worthless as mutton, and at first
+were never shipped, but as the flocks were graded up, the best were
+culled and sent to Eastern markets. They menaced the cattlemen in the
+West and South, while the rancher made slow but inexorable advance on
+the East. As the cattleman came to understand this his face grew dark
+and sullen, but thus far no herd had entered the Big Sandy Range, though
+Williams feared their coming and was ready to do battle.
+
+At the precise time that Daniel Pratt was entering Cheyenne County from
+the East, a Mexican sheepman was moving toward the Cannon Ball from the
+Southwest, walking behind ten thousand sheep, leaving a dusty, bare and
+stinking trail behind him. Williams' report drew the attention of the
+cattlemen, and the Pratts were for the time forgotten.
+
+A few days after Daniel's assault on the fences of the big ranch, a
+conference of cattlemen met and appointed a committee to wait upon the
+owner of the approaching flock of sheep. The Pratts heard of this, and,
+for reasons of their own, determined to be present. Mose, eager to see
+the outcome of these exciting movements, accompanied the Pratts on their
+ride over the hills.
+
+They found the man and his herders encamped on the bank of a little
+stream in a smooth and beautiful valley. He had a covered wagon and a
+small tent, and a team of hobbled horses was feeding near. Before the
+farmers had time to cross the stream the cattlemen came in sight, riding
+rapidly, and the Pratts waited for them to come up. As they halted on
+the opposite bank of the stream the sheep owner came out of his tent
+with a rifle in his arm and advanced calmly to meet them.
+
+"Good evening, gentlemen," he called pleasantly, but the slant of his
+chin was significant. He was a tall, thin man with a long beard. He wore
+an ordinary sombrero, with wide, stiff brim, a gray shirt, and loose,
+gray trousers. At his belt, and significantly in front and buttoned
+down, hung two splendid revolvers. Aside from these weapons, he looked
+like a clergyman camping for the summer.
+
+Hitching their horses to the stunted willow and cottonwood trees, the
+committee approached the tent, and Williams, of Circle Bar, became
+spokesman: "We have come," he said, "to make a statement. We are
+peaceably disposed, but would like to state our side of the case. The
+range into which you are walking your sheep is already overstocked with
+cattle and horses, and we are going to suffer, for you know very well
+cattle will not follow sheep. The coming of your flock is likely to
+bring others, and we can't stand it. We have come to ask you to keep off
+our range. We have been to big expense to build sheds and fences, and we
+can't afford to have sheep thrown in on us."
+
+To this the sheepman made calm reply. He said: "Gentlemen, all that you
+have said is true, but it does not interest me. This land belongs as
+much to me as to you. By law you can hold only one quarter section each
+by squatters' right. That right I shall respect, but no more. I shall
+drive my sheep anywhere on grounds not actually occupied by your feeding
+cattle. Neither you nor I have much more time to do this kind of thing.
+The small settler is coming westward. Until he comes I propose to have
+my share of Government grass."
+
+The meeting grew stormy. Williams, of Circle Bar, counselled moderation.
+Others were for beginning war at once. "If this man is looking for
+trouble he can easily find it," one of them said.
+
+The sheepman grimly replied: "I have the reputation in my country of
+taking care of myself." He drew a revolver and laid it affectionately in
+the hollow of his folded left arm. "I have two of these, and in a mix-up
+with me, somebody generally gets hurt."
+
+There was deadly serenity in the stranger's utterance, and the cowboys
+allowed themselves to be persuaded into peace measures, though some went
+so far as to handle guns also. They withdrew for a conference, and Jake
+said: "Stranger, we're with you in this fight; we're truck farmers at
+the mouth o' the Cannon Ball. My name is Pratt."
+
+The sheepman smiled pleasantly. "Mighty glad to know you, Mr. Pratt. My
+name is Delmar."
+
+"This is my brother Dan," said Jake, "and this is his herder."
+
+When Mose took the small, firm hand of the sheepman and looked into his
+face he liked him, and the stranger returned his liking. "Your fight is
+mine, gentlemen," he said. "These cattlemen are holding back settlement
+for their own selfish purposes."
+
+Williams, returning at this point, began speaking, but with effort, and
+without looking at Delmar. "We don't want any fuss, so I want to make
+this proposition. You take the north side of the Cannon Ball above the
+main trail, and we'll keep the south side and all the grass up to the
+trail. That'll give you range enough for your herd and will save
+trouble. We've had all the trouble we want. I don't want any gun-work
+myself."
+
+To this the stranger said: "Very well. I'll go look at the ground. If it
+will support my sheep I'll keep them on it. I claim to be a reasonable
+man also, and I've had troubles in my time, and now with a family
+growing up on my hands I'm just as anxious to live peaceable with my
+fellow-citizens as any man, but I want to say to you that I'm a mean man
+when you try to drive me."
+
+Thereupon he shook hands with Williams and several others of the older
+men. After most of the cattlemen had ridden away, Jake said, "Well, now,
+we'll be glad to see you over at our shack at the mouth o' the Cannon
+Ball." He held out his hand and the sheepman shook it heartily. As he
+was saying good-by the sheep owner's eyes dwelt keenly on Mose.
+"Youngster, you're a good ways from home and mother."
+
+Mose blushed, as became a youth, and said: "I'm camping in my hat these
+days."
+
+The sheepman smiled. "So am I, but I've got a wife and two daughters
+back in Santy Fay. Come and see me. I like your build. Well, gentlemen,
+just call on me at any time you need me. I'll see that my sheep don't
+trouble you."
+
+"All right; you do the same," replied the Pratts.
+
+"You fellows hold the winning hand," said Delmar; "the small rancher
+will sure wipe the sheepman out in time. I've got sense enough to see
+that. You can't fight the progress of events. Youngster, you belong to
+the winning side," he ended, turning to Mose, "but it's the unpopular
+side just now."
+
+All this was epic business into which to plunge a boy of eighteen whose
+hot blood tingled with electric fire at sight of a weapon in the hands
+of roused and resolute men. He redoubled his revolver practice, and
+through Daniel's gossip and especially through the boasting of Jennie,
+his skill with the revolver soon became known to Delmar, who invited him
+to visit him for a trial of skill. "I used to shoot a little myself," he
+said; "come over and we'll try conclusions."
+
+Out of this friendly contest the youth emerged very humble. The old
+sheepman dazzled him with his cunning. He shot equally well from either
+hand. He could walk by a tree, wheel suddenly, and fire both revolvers
+over his shoulders, putting the two bullets within an inch of each
+other. "That's for use when a man is sneaking onto you from behind," he
+explained. "I never used it but once, but it saved my life." He could
+fire two shots before Mose could get his pistol from his holster. "A gun
+is of no use, youngster, unless you can get it into action before the
+other man. Sling your holster in front and tie it down when you're going
+to war, and never let a man come to close quarters with you. The secret
+of success is to be just a half second ahead of the other man. It saves
+blood, too."
+
+His hands were quick and sure as the rattlesnake's black, forked tongue.
+He seemed not to aim--he appeared to shoot from his fist rather than
+from the extended weapon, and when he had finished Mose said:
+
+"I'm much obliged, Mr. Delmar; I see I didn't know the a b c's--but you
+try me again in six months."
+
+The sheepman smiled. "You've got the stuff in you, youngster. If you
+ever get in a serious place, and I'm in reaching distance, let me know
+and I'll open a way out for you. Meanwhile, I can make use of you as you
+are. I need another man. My Mexicans are no company for me. Come over
+and help me; I'll pay you well and you can have the same fare that I eat
+myself. I get lonesome as the old boy."
+
+Thus it came about that Mose, without realizing it, became that
+despised, forlorn thing, a sheep herder. He made a serious social
+mistake when he "lined up" with the truck farmers, the tenderfeet and
+the "greaser" sheep herders, and cut out "a great gob of trouble" for
+himself in Cheyenne County.
+
+He admired Delmar most fervidly, and liked him. There was a quality in
+his speech which appealed to the eagle's heart in the boy. The Pratts no
+longer interested him; they had settled down into farmers. They had
+nothing for him to do but plow and dig roots, for which he had no love.
+He had not ridden into this wild and splendid country to bend his back
+over a spade. One day he accepted Delmar's offer and rode home to get
+his few little trinkets and to say good-by.
+
+Another reason why he had accepted Delmar's offer lay in the growing
+annoyance of Jennie's courtship. She made no effort to conceal her
+growing passion. She put herself in his way and laid hands on him with
+unblushing frankness. Her love chatter wearied him beyond measure, and
+he became cruelly short and evasive. Her speech grew sillier as she lost
+her tomboy interests, and Mose avoided her studiously.
+
+That night as he rode up Daniel was at the barn. To him Mose repeated
+Delmar's offer.
+
+Pratt at once said: "I don't blame ye fer pullin' out, Mose. I done the
+best I could, considerin'. Co'se I can't begin fer to pay ye the wages
+Delmar can, but be keerful; trouble is comin', shore pop, and I'd hate
+to have ye killed, on the wimmen's account. They 'pear to think more o'
+you than they do o' me."
+
+Jennie's eyes filled with tears when Mose told her of his new job. She
+looked very sad and wistful and more interesting than ever before in her
+life as she came out to say good-by.
+
+"Well, Mose, I reckon you're goin' for good?"
+
+"Not so very far," he said, in generous wish to ease her over the
+parting.
+
+"You'll come 'round once in a while, won't ye?"
+
+"Why, sure! It's only twenty miles over to the camp."
+
+"Come over Sundays, an' we'll have potpie and soda biscuits fer ye," she
+said, with a feminine reliance on the power of food.
+
+"All right," he replied with a smile, and abruptly galloped away.
+
+His heart was light with the freedom of his new condition. He considered
+himself a man now. His wages were definite, and no distinction was drawn
+between him and Delmar himself. Besides, the immense flock of sheep
+interested him at first.
+
+His duties were simple. By day he helped to guide the sheep gently to
+their feeding and in their search for water; by night he took his turn
+at guarding from wolves. His sleep was broken often, even when not on
+guard. They were such timid folk, these sheep; their fears passed easily
+into destructive precipitances.
+
+But the night watch had its joys. As the sunlight died out of the sky
+and the blazing stars filled the deep blue air above his head, the
+world grew mysterious and majestic, as well as menacing. The wolves
+clamored from the buttes, which arose on all sides like domes of a
+sleeping city. Crickets cried in the grass, drowsily, and out of the
+dimness and dusk something vast, like a passion too great for words,
+fell upon the boy. He turned his face to the unknown West. There the
+wild creatures dwelt; there were the beings who knew nothing of books or
+towns and toil. There life was governed by the ways of the wind, the
+curve of the streams, the height of the trees--there--just over the edge
+of the plain, the mountains dwelt, waiting for him.
+
+Then his heart ached like that of a young eagle looking from his natal
+rock into the dim valley, miles below. At such times the youth knew he
+had not yet reached the land his heart desired. All this was only
+resting by the way.
+
+At such times, too, in spite of all, he thought of Mary and of Jack;
+they alone formed his attachments to the East. All else was valueless.
+To have had them with him in this land would have put his heart entirely
+at rest.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+WAR ON THE CANNON BALL
+
+
+The autumn was very dry, and as the feed grew short on his side of the
+Cannon Ball, Delmar said to his boss herder, "Drive the herd over the
+trail, keeping as close to the boundary as you can. The valley through
+which the road runs will keep us till November, I reckon."
+
+Of this Mose knew nothing, and when he saw the sheep drifting across the
+line he set forth to turn them. The herder shouted, "Hold on, Mose; let
+'em go."
+
+Mose did as he was ordered, but looked around nervously, expecting a
+charge of cattlemen. Delmar laughed. "Don't worry; they won't make any
+trouble."
+
+A couple of days later a squad of cowboys came riding furiously over the
+hill. "See here!" they called to Mose, "you turn that stinkin' river of
+sheep back over the line."
+
+Mose shouted a reply: "I'm not the boss; go talk to him. And, say! you'd
+better change your tune when you whistle into his ear."
+
+"Oh, hell!" said one contemptuously. "It's that tenderfoot of Pratt's."
+They rode to the older herder, who laughed at them. "Settle with the
+'old man,'" he said. "I'm under orders to feed these sheep and I'm goin'
+to do it."
+
+"You take them sheep back on your range or you won't have any to feed,"
+said one of the cowboys.
+
+The herder blew a whiff from his lips as if blowing away thistle down.
+"Run away, little ones, you disturb my siesta."
+
+With blistering curses on him and his sheep, the cowboys rode to the top
+of the hill, and there, turning, fired twice at the herder, wounding him
+in the arm. The Mexican returned the fire, but to no effect.
+
+When Mose reported this, Delmar's eyebrows drew down over his hawklike
+eyes. "That's all right," he said ominously. "If they want war they'll
+get it."
+
+A few days later he rode over toward the Circle Bar Ranch house. On the
+way he overtook Williams, riding along alone. Williams did not hear
+Delmar till he called sharply, "Throw up your hands."
+
+Williams quickly complied. "Don't shoot--for God's sake!" he called,
+with his hands quivering above his head. He had heard of Delmar's skill
+with weapons.
+
+"Mr. Williams," Delmar began with sinister formality, "your men have
+been shooting my herders."
+
+"Not by my orders, Mr. Delmar; I never sanction----"
+
+"See here, Williams, you are responsible for your cowboys, just as I am
+for my Mexicans. It's low-down business for you to shoot my men who are
+working for me at fifteen dollars a month. I'm the responsible
+party--I'm the man to kill. I want to say right here that I hold you
+accountable, and if your men maim one of my herders or open fire on 'em
+again I'll hunt you down and kill you like a wolf. Now ride on, and if
+you look back before you top that divide I'll put a bullet through you.
+Good-day."
+
+Williams rode away furiously and was not curious at all; he topped the
+divide without stopping. Delmar smiled grimly as he wheeled his horse
+and started homeward.
+
+On the same day, as Mose was lying on the point of a grassy mesa,
+watching the sheep swarming about a water hole in the valley below, he
+saw a cloud of dust rising far up to the north. While he wondered, he
+heard a wild, rumbling, trampling sound. Could it be a herd of buffalo?
+His blood thrilled with the hope of it. His sheep were forgotten as the
+roar increased and wild yells came faintly to his ears. As he jerked
+his revolver from its holder, around the end of the mesa a herd of wild
+horses swept, swift as antelope, with tails streaming, with eyes
+flashing, and behind them, urging them on, whooping, yelling, shooting,
+came a band of cowboys, their arms flopping, their kerchiefs streaming.
+
+A gasping shout arose from below. "The sheep! the sheep!" Mose turned
+and saw the other herders rushing for their horses. He realized then the
+danger to the flock. The horses were sweeping like a railway train
+straight down upon the gray, dusty, hot river of woolly flesh. Mose
+shuddered with horror and pity--a moment later and the drove, led by a
+powerful and vicious brown mare, drove like a wedge straight into the
+helpless herd, and, leaping, plunging, kicking, stumbling, the powerful
+and swift little bronchos crossed, careering on down the valley, leaving
+hundreds of dead, wounded, and mangled sheep in their path. The cowboys
+swept on after them with exultant whooping, firing their revolvers at
+the Mexican herders, who stood in a daze over their torn and mangled
+herd.
+
+When Mose recovered from his stupefaction, his own horse was galloping
+in circles, his picket rope dragging, and the boss herder was swearing
+with a belated malignity which was ludicrous. He swept together into
+one steady outpour all the native and alien oaths he had ever heard in a
+long and eventful career among profane persons. When Mose recovered his
+horse and rode up to him, Jose was still swearing. He was walking among
+the wounded sheep, shooting those which he considered helplessly
+injured. His mouth was dry, his voice husky, and on his lips foam lay in
+yellow flecks. He ceased to imprecate only when, by repetition, his
+oaths became too inexpressive to be worth while.
+
+Mose's heart was boyishly tender for any animal, and to see the gentle
+creatures mangled, writhing and tumbling, uttering most piteous cries,
+touched him so deeply that he wept. He had no inclination to swear until
+afterward, when the full knowledge that it was a trick and not an
+accident came to him. He started at once for the camp to carry the black
+news.
+
+Delmar did not swear when Mose told him what had happened. He saddled
+his horse, and, buckling his revolvers about him said, "Come on,
+youngster; I'm going over to see about this."
+
+Mose felt the blood of his heart thicken and grow cold. There was a
+deadly resolution in Delmar's deliberate action. Prevision of a bloody
+fray filled the boy's mind, but he could not retreat. He could not let
+his boss go alone into an enemy's country; therefore he rode silently
+after.
+
+Delmar galloped steadily on toward the Circle Bar Ranch house. Mile
+after mile was traversed at steady gallop till the powerful little
+ponies streamed with salty sweat. At last Delmar drew rein and allowed
+Mose to ride by his side.
+
+"You needn't be alarmed," he said in a kindly tone; "these hounds won't
+shoot; they're going to evade it, but I shall hold 'em to it--trust me,
+my boy."
+
+As they topped a ridge and looked down into Willow Creek, where the
+Ranch house stood, several horsemen could be seen riding in from the
+opposite side, and quite a group of men waited Delmar's approach, and
+every man was armed. Each face wore a look of constraint, though one man
+advanced hospitably. "Good afternoon, gentlemen; ride your horses right
+into the corral, and the boys'll take the saddles off."
+
+"Where is Williams?" asked Delmar as he slid from his horse.
+
+"Gone to town; anything I can do for you? I'm his boss."
+
+"You tell Mr. Williams," said Delmar, with menacing calm, "I came to
+tell him that a drove of horses belonging partly to you and partly to
+Hartley, of The Horseshoe, were stampeded through my sheep yesterday,
+killing over two hundred of them."
+
+Conrad replied softly: "I know, I know! I just heard of it. Too bad! but
+you understand how it is. Herds get going that way, and you can't stop
+'em nor head 'em off."
+
+"Your men didn't try to head 'em off."
+
+"How about that, boys?" inquired Conrad, turning to the younger men.
+
+A long, freckled, grinning ape stepped forward.
+
+"Well, it was this way: we was a-tryin' to head the herd off, and we
+didn't see the sheep till we was right into 'em----"
+
+"That's a lie!" said Mose. "You drove the horses right down the valley
+into the sheep. I saw you do it."
+
+"You call me a liar and I'll blow your heart out," shouted the cowboy,
+dropping his hand to his revolver.
+
+"Halt!" said Delmar. "Easy now, you young cockalorum. It ain't useful to
+start shooting where Andrew Delmar is."
+
+Conrad spoke sharply: "Jim, shut up." Turning to Mose, "Where did it
+happen?"
+
+"In Boulder Creek, just south of the road."
+
+Conrad turned to Delmar in mock surprise. "_South_ of the road! Your
+sheep must o' strayed over the line, Mr. Delmar. As they was on our
+side of the range I don't see that I can do anything for you. If they'd
+been on the north side----"
+
+"That'll do," interrupted Delmar. "I told you that so long as the north
+side fed my sheep I would keep them there to accommodate your stockmen.
+I give notice now that I shall feed where I please, and I shall be with
+my sheep night and day, and the next man that crosses my sheep will
+leave his bones in the grass with the dead sheep, and likely a horse or
+two besides." He stepped toward Conrad. "Williams has had his warning; I
+give you yours. I hold you responsible for every shot fired at my men.
+If one of my men is shot I'll kill you and Williams at sight. Good-day."
+
+"What'll _we_ do?" called one of the cowboys.
+
+Delmar turned, and his eyes took on a wild glare.
+
+"I'll send you to hell so quick you won't be able to open your mouth.
+Throw up your hands!" The man's hands went up. "Why, I'd ear-mark ye and
+slit each nostril for a leather button----"
+
+Conrad strove for peace. "Be easy on him, Delmar; he's a crazy fool,
+anyway; he don't know you."
+
+"He will after this," said Delmar. "I'll trouble you, Mr. Conrad, to
+collect all the guns from your men." Mose drew his revolver. "My boy
+here is handy too. I don't care to be shot in the back as I ride away.
+Drop your guns, every scab of ye!"
+
+"I'll be d----d if I do."
+
+"Drop it!" snapped out Delmar, and the tone of his voice was terrible to
+hear. Mose's heart stopped beating; he held his breath, expecting the
+shooting to begin.
+
+Conrad was white with fear as he said: "Give 'em up, boys. He's a
+desperate man. Don't shoot, you fools!"
+
+One by one, with a certain amount of bluster on the part of two, the
+cowboys dropped their guns, and Delmar said: "Gather 'em in, Mose."
+
+Mose leaped from his horse and gathered the weapons up. Delmar thrust
+the revolvers into his pockets, and handed one Winchester to Mose.
+
+"You'll find your guns on that rise beside yon rock," said Delmar, "and
+when we meet again, it will be Merry War. Good-day!"
+
+An angry man knows no line of moderation. Delmar, having declared war,
+carried it to the door of the enemy. Accompanying the sheep himself, he
+drove them into the fairest feeding-places beside the clearest streams.
+He spared no pains to irritate the cattlemen, and Mose, who alone of
+all the outsiders realized to the full his terrible skill with weapons,
+looked forward with profound dread to the fight which was sure to
+follow.
+
+He dreaded the encounter for another reason. He had no definite plan of
+action to follow in his own case. A dozen times a day he said to
+himself: "Am I a coward?" His stomach failed him, and he ate so
+sparingly that it was commented upon by the more hardened men. He was
+the greater troubled because a letter from Jack came during this stormy
+time, wherein occurred this paragraph: "Mary came back to the autumn
+term. Her mother is dead, and she looks very pale and sad. She asked
+where you were and said: 'Please tell him that I hope he will come home
+safe, and that I am sorry I could not see him before he went away.'"
+
+All the bitterness in his heart long stored up against her passed away
+in a moment, and sitting there on the wide plain, under the burning sun,
+he closed his eyes in order to see once more, in the cold gray light of
+the prison, that pale, grave girl with the glorious eyes. He saw her,
+too, as Jack saw her, her gravity turned into sadness, her pallor into
+the paleness of grief and ill health. He admitted now that no reason
+existed why she should write to him while her mother lay dying. All
+cause for hardness of heart was passed away. The tears came to his eyes
+and he longed for the sight of her face. For a moment the boy's wild
+heart grew tender.
+
+He wrote her a letter that night, and it ran as well as he could hope
+for, as he re-read it next day on his way to the post office twenty
+miles away.
+
+    "DEAR MARY: Jack has just sent me a long letter and has told
+    me what you said. I hope you will forgive me. I thought you
+    didn't want to see me or write to me. I didn't know your
+    mother was sick. I thought you ought to have written to me,
+    but, of course, I understand now. I hope you will write in
+    answer to this and send your picture to me. You see I never
+    saw you in daylight and I'm afraid I'll forget how you look.
+
+    "Well, I'm out in the wild country, but it ain't what I
+    want. I don't like it here. The cowboys are all the time
+    rowin'. There ain't much game here neither. I kill an
+    antelope once in a while, or a deer down on the bottoms, but
+    I haven't seen a bear or a buffalo yet. I want to go to the
+    mountains now. This country is too tame for me. They say you
+    can see the Rockies from a place about one hundred miles from
+    here. Some day I'm going to ride over there and take a
+    look. I haven't seen any Indians yet. We are likely to have
+    shooting soon.
+
+    "If you write, address to Running Bear, Cheyenne County, and
+    I'll get it. I'll go down again in two weeks. Since Jack
+    wrote I want to see you awful bad, but of course it can't be
+    done, so write me a long letter.
+
+                                    "Yours respectfully,
+                                                    "HAROLD EXCELL.
+
+    "Address your letter to Mose Harding, they don't know my real
+    name out here. I'll try to keep out of trouble."
+
+He arrived in Running Bear just at dusk, and went straight to the post
+office, which was in an ill-smelling grocery. Nothing more forlornly
+disreputable than "the Beast" (as the cowboys called the town) existed
+in the State. It was built on the low flat of the Big Sandy, and was
+composed of log huts (beginning already to rot at the corners) and
+unpainted shanties of pine, gray as granite, under wind and sun. There
+were two "hotels," where for "two bits" one could secure a dish of
+evil-smelling ham and eggs and some fried potatoes, and there were six
+saloons, where one could secure equally evil-minded whisky at ten cents
+a glass. A couple of rude groceries completed the necessary equipment
+of a "cow-town."
+
+There was no allurement to vice in such a place as this so far as Mose
+was concerned, but a bunch of cowboys had just ridden in for "a good
+time," and to reach the post office he was forced to pass them. They
+studied him narrowly in the dusk, and one fellow said:
+
+"That's Delmar's sheep herder; let's have some fun with him. Let's
+convert him."
+
+"Oh, let him alone; he's only a kid."
+
+"Kid! He's big as he'll ever be. I'm goin' to string him a few when he
+comes out."
+
+Mose's breath was very short as he posted his letter, for trouble was in
+the air. He tried his revolvers to see that they were free in their
+holsters, and wiped the sweat from his hands and face with his big
+bandanna. He entered into conversation with the storekeeper, hoping the
+belligerent gang would ride away. They had no such intention, but went
+into a saloon next door to drink, keeping watch for Mose. One of them, a
+slim, consumptive-chested man, grew drunk first. He was entirely
+harmless when sober, and served as the butt of all jokes, but the evil
+liquor paralyzed the small knot of gray matter over his eyes and set
+loose his irresponsible lower centers. He threw his hat on the ground
+and defied the world in a voice absurdly large and strenuous.
+
+His thin arms swung aimlessly, and his roaring voice had no more heart
+in it than the blare of a tin horn. His eyes wandered from face to face
+in the circle of his grinning companions who egged him on.
+
+His insane, reeling capers vastly amused them. One or two, almost as
+drunk as he, occasionally wrestled with him, and they rolled in the dust
+like dirty bear cubs. They were helpless so far as physical struggle
+went, but, unfortunately, shooting was a second nature to them, and
+their hands were deadly.
+
+As Mose came out to mount his horse the crowd saw him, and one vicious
+voice called out:
+
+"Here, Bill, here's a sheep walker can do you up."
+
+The crowd whooped with keen delight, and streaming over, surrounded
+Mose, who stood at bay not far from his horse in the darkness--a sudden
+numbness in his limbs.
+
+"What do you want o' me?" he asked. "I've nothing to do with you." He
+knew that this crowd would have no mercy on him and his heart almost
+failed him.
+
+"Here's a man wants to lick you," replied one of the herders.
+
+The drunken man was calling somewhere in the crowd, "Where is he? Lemme
+get at him." The ring opened and he reeled through and up to Mose, who
+was standing ominously quiet beside his horse. Bill seized him by the
+collar and said: "You want 'o fight?"
+
+"No," said Mose, too angry at the crowd to humor the drunken fool. "You
+take him away or he'll get hurt."
+
+"Oh, he will, will he?"
+
+"Go for him, Bill," yelled the crowd in glee.
+
+The drunken fool gave Mose a tug. "Come 'ere!" he said with an oath.
+
+"Let go o' me," said Mose, his heart swelling with wrath.
+
+The drunken one aimlessly cuffed him. Then the blood-red film dropped
+over the young eagle's eyes. He struck out and his assailant went down.
+Then his revolvers began to speak and the crowd fell back. They rolled,
+leaped, or crawled to shelter, and when the bloody mist cleared away
+from his brain, Mose found himself in his saddle, his swift pony
+galloping hard up the street, with pistols cracking behind him. His
+blood was still hot with the murderous rage which had blinded his eyes.
+He did not know whether he had begun to shoot first or not, he did not
+know whether he had killed any of the ruffians or not, but he had a
+smarting wound in the shoulder, from which he could feel the wet, warm
+blood trickling down.
+
+Once he drew his horse to a walk, and half turned him to go back and
+face the mob, which he could hear shouting behind him, but the thought
+of his wound, and the fear that his horse had also been hit, led him to
+ride on. He made a detour on the plain, and entered a ravine which
+concealed him from the town, and there alighted to feel of his horse's
+limbs, fearing each moment to come upon a wound, but he was unhurt, and
+as the blood had ceased to flow from his own wound, the youth swung into
+his saddle and made off into the darkness.
+
+He heard no sound of his pursuers, but, nevertheless, rode on rapidly,
+keeping the west wind in his face and watching sharply for fences. At
+length he found his way back to the river trail and the horse galloped
+steadily homeward. As he rode the boy grew very sad and discouraged. He
+had again given away to the spirit of murder. Again he had intended to
+kill, and he seemed to see two falling figures; one, the man he had
+smitten with his fist, the other one whose revolver was flashing fire as
+he fell.
+
+Then he thought of Mary and the sad look in her eyes when she should
+hear of his fighting again. She would not be able to get at the true
+story. She would not know that these men attacked him first and that he
+fought in self-defense. He thought of his father, also, with a certain
+tenderness, remembering how he had stood by him in his trial. "Who will
+stand by me now?" he asked himself, and the thought of the Pratts helped
+him. Delmar, he felt sure, would defend him, but he knew the customs of
+the cattle country too well to think the matter ended there. He must
+hereafter shoot or be shot. If these men met him again he must disable
+them instantly or die. "Hadn't I better just keep right on riding?" he
+kept asking some sense within him, but decided at last to return to
+Delmar.
+
+It was deep night when he reached the camp, and his horse was covered
+with foam. Delmar was sitting by the camp fire as he came in from the
+dark.
+
+"Hello, boy, what's up?"
+
+Mose told him the whole story in a few incoherent phrases. The old man
+examined and dressed his wound, but remained curiously silent throughout
+the story. At last he said: "See here, my lad; let me tell you, this is
+serious business. I don't mean this scratch of a bullet--don't you be
+uneasy about that; but this whole row is mine. They haven't any grudge
+against you, but you're a sheep herder for me, and that is bad business
+just now. If you've killed a man they'll come a-rippin' up here about
+daylight with a warrant. You can't get justice in this country. You'll
+face a cowboy jury and it'll go hard with you. There's just one thing to
+do: you've got to git right close to where the west winds come from and
+do it quick. Throw the saddles on Bone and Rusty, and we'll hit the
+trail. I know a man who'll take care of you."
+
+He whistled a signal and one of the herders came in: "Send Pablo here,"
+he said. "Now, roll up any little trinkets that you want to take with
+you," he said a few minutes later as they were saddling the two
+bronchos. "You can't afford to stay here and face this thing; I had no
+business to set you on the wrong side. I knew better all the time, but I
+liked you, and----"
+
+The herder came in. "Pablo, I'm going across country on a little
+business. If anybody comes asking for me or Mose here, say you don't
+know where we went, but that you expect us back about noon. Be ready to
+shoot to-day; some of these cowboys may try to stampede you again while
+I'm gone."
+
+"You better stay and look after the sheep," began Mose as they started
+away, "you can't afford----"
+
+"Oh, to hell with the sheep. I got you into this scrape and I'll see you
+out of it."
+
+As they galloped away, leading Mose's worn pony, Delmar continued:
+"You're too young to start in as a killer. You've got somebody back in
+the States who thinks you're out here making a man of yourself, and I
+like you too well to see you done up by these dirty cow-country lawyers.
+I'm going to quit the country myself after this fall shipment, and I
+want you to come down my way some time. You better stay up here till
+spring."
+
+They rode steadily till daylight, and then Delmar said: "Now I think
+you're perfectly safe, for this reason: These cusses know you came into
+the country with Pratt, and they'll likely ride over and search the
+Cannon Ball settlement. I'll ride around that way and detain 'em awhile
+and make 'em think you're hiding out, while you make tracks for upper
+country. You keep this river trail. Don't ride too hard, as if you was
+runnin' away, but keep a steady gait, and give your horse one hour out
+o' four to feed. Here's a little snack: don't waste time, but slide
+along without sleeping as long as you can.
+
+"You'll come in sight of the mountains about noon, and you'll see a big
+bunch o' snowpeaks off to the left. Make straight for that, and after
+you go about one day bear sharp to the left, begin to inquire for Bob
+Reynolds on the Arickaree--everybody knows Bob. Just give him this note
+and tell him the whole business; he'll look out for you. Now, good-by,
+boy. I'm sorry--but my intentions were good."
+
+Mose opened his heart at last. "I don't like to desert you this way, Mr.
+Delmar," he said; "it ain't right; I'd rather stay and fight it out."
+
+"I won't have it," replied Delmar.
+
+"You're going to have a lot of trouble."
+
+"Don't you worry about me, and don't you feel streaked about pulling
+your freight. You started wrong on the Cannon Ball. Bob will put you
+right. The cattlemen will rule there for some years yet, and you keep on
+their side. Now, good-by, lad, and take care of yourself."
+
+Mose's voice trembled as he took Delmar's hand and said: "Good-by, Mr.
+Delmar, I'm awfully obliged to you."
+
+"That's all right--now git."
+
+Mose, once more on his own horse, galloped off to the West, his heart
+big with love for his stern benefactor. Delmar sat on his horse and
+watched the boy till he was diminished to a minute spot on the dim
+swells of the plain. Then he wiped a little moisture from his eye with
+the back of his brown, small hand, and turned his horse's head to the
+East.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+THE YOUNG EAGLE MOUNTS
+
+
+After the momentary sorrow of parting from his good friend, Delmar, the
+youth's heart began to expand with joy. He lifted his arms and shook
+them as the young eagle exults. He was alone on the wide swells of plain
+enacting a part of the wild life of which he had read, and for which he
+had longed. He was riding a swift horse straight toward the mystic
+mountains of the West, leaving behind him the miserable wars of the
+sheep herders and the cattlemen. Every leap of his sturdy pony carried
+him deeper into the storied land and farther from the tumult and shame
+of the night at Running Bear.
+
+He was not one to morbidly analyze, not even to feel remorse. He put the
+past behind him easily. Before him small grasshoppers arose in clapping,
+buzzing clouds. Prairie dogs squeaked and frisked and dived needlessly
+into their dens. Hawks sailed like kites in the glorious, golden, hazy
+air, and on the firm sod the feet of his pony steadily drummed. Once a
+band of antelope crossed a swale, running in silence, jerkily, like a
+train of some singular automatons, moved by sudden, uneven impulses of
+power. The deep-worn buffalo trails seemed so fresh the boy's heart
+quickened with the thought that he might by chance come suddenly upon a
+stray bunch of them feeding in some deep swale.
+
+He had passed beyond fences, and his course was still substantially
+westward. His eyes constantly searched the misty purple-blue horizon for
+a first glimpse of the mountains, though he knew he could not possibly
+come in sight of them so soon. He rode steadily till the sun was
+overhead, when he stopped to let the pony rest and feed. He had a scanty
+lunch in his pocket, which he ate without water. Saddling up an hour or
+two later he continued his steady onward "shack" toward the West.
+
+Once or twice he passed in sight of cattle ranches, but he rode on
+without stopping, though he was hungry and weary. Once he met a couple
+of cowboys who reined out and rode by, one on either side of him, to see
+what brands were on his horse. He was sufficiently waywise to know what
+this meant. The riders remained studiously polite in their inquiries:
+
+"Where ye from, stranger?"
+
+"Upper Cannon Ball."
+
+"Eh--hah. How's the feed there this year?"
+
+"Pretty good."
+
+"Where ye aimin' at now, if it's a fair question?"
+
+"Bob Reynolds' ranch."
+
+"He's over on the head water of the South Fork, ain't he?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, it's a good piece yet. So long," they said in change of manner.
+
+"So long."
+
+They rode away, still filled with curiosity concerning the boy whose
+horse plainly showed hard riding. "He shore wants to git there," said
+one to the other.
+
+Late in the afternoon the youth pulled in his horse and studied with the
+closest care a big cloud looming in the sky. All day snowy thunderheads
+had been emerging into view near the horizon, blooming like gigantic
+roses out of the deep purple of the sky, but this particular cloud had
+not changed its sharp, clean-cut outline for an hour, and, as he looked,
+a veil of vapor suddenly drifted away from it, and Mose's heart leaped
+with exultation, as though a woman's hand had been laid on his shoulder.
+That cloud-like form was a mountain! It could be nothing else, for while
+all around it other domes shifted line and mass, this one remained
+constant, riding through the mist as the moon endures in the midst of
+the flying vapor of the night.
+
+Thereafter he rode with his eyes on that sunlit mass. The land grew
+wilder. Sharp hills broke the smooth expanses, and on these hills groves
+of dwarf pine appeared in irregular clumps like herds of cattle. He
+began to look for a camping place, for he was very tired. For an hour he
+led his spent horse, still moving toward the far-off shining peak, which
+glowed long after darkness had fallen on the plains. At last it grew too
+dim to guide him farther, and slipping the saddle from his horse, he
+turned him loose to feed upon the bunch grass.
+
+As the light faded from the sky so the exultation and sense of freedom
+went out of the boy's heart. His mind went back to the struggle in the
+street. He felt no remorse, no pity for the drunken fools, but he was
+angry and discouraged and disgusted with himself. He had ended in
+failure and in flight where he should have won success and respect. He
+did not directly accuse himself; he had done as well as he could; he
+blamed "things," and said to himself, "it's my luck," by which he meant
+to express a profound feeling of dejection and weakness as of one in the
+grasp of inimical powers. By the working of unfriendly forces he was
+lying there under the pines, hungry, tired, chilled, and lone as a wolf.
+Jack was far away, Mary lost forever to him, and the officers of the law
+again on his trail. It was a time to make a boy a man, a bitter and
+revengeful man.
+
+The night grew chill, and he was forced to walk up and down, wrapped in
+his saddle blanket to keep warm. Fuel was scarce, and his small fire
+sufficed only to warm him in minute sections, and hunger had thinned his
+blood. He was tired and sleepy, too, but dared not lie down for fear of
+being chilled. It would not do to be ill here alone in this land.
+
+It was the loneliest night he had ever known in his life. On the hills
+near by the coyotes kept up ventriloquistic clamor, and from far off the
+bawling of great bulls and the bleating of the calves brought news of a
+huge herd of cattle, but these sounds only made his solitary vigil the
+more impressive. The sleepy chirp of the crickets and the sound of his
+horse nipping the grass, calmly careless of the wolves, were the only
+aids to sleep; all else had the effect to keep his tense nerves
+vibrating. As the cold intensified, the crickets ceased to cry, and the
+pony, having filled his stomach, turned tail to the wind and humped his
+back in drowse. At last, no friendly sounds were left in all the world,
+and shivering, sore, and sullen, the youth faced the east waiting for
+the dawn.
+
+As the first faint light came into the east he turned his face to the
+west, anxiously waiting till the beautiful mountain should blossom from
+the dark. At last it came stealing forth, timid, delicate, blushing like
+a bride from nuptial chamber, ethereal as an angel's wing, persistent as
+a glacial wall. As it broadened and bloomed, the boy threw off his
+depression like a garment. Briskly saddling his shivery but well-fed
+horse he set off, keeping more and more to the left, as his instructions
+ran. But no matter in which direction he rode, his eyes were on the
+mountain. "There is where I end," was his constantly repeated thought.
+It would have been easy for him to have turned aside.
+
+Shortly after sunrise he came upon a ranch set deep in a gully and
+sheltered by pinons. Smoke was curling from the stovepipe, but no other
+sign of life could be detected. He rode directly up to the door, being
+now too hungry and cold to pass by food and shelter, no matter what
+should follow.
+
+A couple of cowboys, armed and armored, came out lazily but with menace
+in their glances.
+
+"Good morning," said Mose.
+
+"Howdy, stranger, howdy," they repeated with instant heartiness. "Git
+off your hoss and come in."
+
+"Thanks, I believe I will. Can you tell me which-a-way is Bob Reynolds'
+ranch?" he asked.
+
+Both men broke into grins. "Well, you've putt' nigh hit it right hyer.
+This is one o' his 'line camps.' The ranch house is about ten miles
+furder on--but slide off and eat a few."
+
+One man took his horse while the other showed him into a big room where
+a huge stack of coals on a rude hearth gave out a cheerful heat. It was
+an ordinary slab shack with three rooms. A slatternly woman was busy
+cooking breakfast in a little lean-to at the back of the larger room, a
+child was wailing in a crib, and before the fire two big, wolfish dogs
+were sleeping. They arose slowly to sniff lazily at Mose's garments, and
+then returned to their drowse before the fire.
+
+"Stranger, you look putt' nigh beat out," said the man who acted as
+host; "you look pale around the gills."
+
+"I am," said Mose; "I got off my course last night, and had to make down
+under a pinon. I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday noon."
+
+"Wal, we'll have some taters and sow-belly in a giff or two. Want 'o
+wash?"
+
+Mose gladly took advantage of the opportunity to clean the dust and
+grime from his skin, though his head was dizzy with hunger. The food was
+bacon, eggs, and potatoes, but it was fairly well cooked, and he ate
+with great satisfaction.
+
+The men were very much interested in him, and tried to get at the heart
+of his relation to Reynolds, but he evaded them. They were lanky
+Missourians, types already familiar to him, and he did not care to make
+confidants of them. The woman was a graceless figure, a silent household
+drudge, sullenly sad, and gaunt, and sickly.
+
+Mose offered to pay for his breakfast, but the boss waved it aside and
+said: "Oh, that's all right; we don't see enough people pass to charge,
+for a breakfast. Besides, we're part o' the Reynolds' outfit, anyway."
+
+As Mose swung into the saddle his heart was light. Away to the south a
+long low cloud of smoke hung. "What is that?" he asked.
+
+"That's the bull-gine on the Great Western; we got two railroads now."
+
+"Which is two too many," said the other man. "First you know the cattle
+business will be wiped out o' 'Rickaree County just as it is bein' wiped
+out in Cheyenne and Runnin' Bear. Nesters and cow milkers are comin'
+in, and will be buildin' fences yet."
+
+"Not in my day," said the host.
+
+"Well, so long," said Mose, and rode away.
+
+The Reynolds' ranch house was built close beside a small creek which had
+cut deep into the bottom of a narrow valley between two pinon-covered
+hills. It squat in the valley like a tortoise, but was much more
+comfortable than most ranch houses of the county. It was surrounded by
+long sheds and circular corrals of pine logs, and looked to be what it
+was, a den in which to seek shelter. A blacksmith's forge was sending up
+a shower of sparks as Mose rode through the gate and up to the main
+stable.
+
+A long-bearded old man tinkering at some repairs to a plow nodded at the
+youth without speaking.
+
+"Is Mr. Reynolds at home?" asked Mose.
+
+"No, but he'll be here in a second--jest rode over the hill to look at a
+sick colt. Git off an' make yuself comfortable."
+
+Mose slipped off his horse and stood watching the queer old fellow as he
+squinted and hammered upon a piece of iron, chewing furiously meanwhile
+at his tobacco. It was plain his skill was severely taxed by the
+complexity of the task in hand.
+
+As he stood waiting Mose saw a pretty young woman come out of the house
+and take a babe from the ground with matronly impatience of the dirt
+upon its dress.
+
+The old man followed the direction of the young man's eyes and mumbled:
+"Old man's girl.... Her child."
+
+Mose asked no questions, but it gave a new and powerful interest to the
+graceful figure of the girl.
+
+Occasionally the old man lifted his eyes toward the ridge, as if looking
+for some one, and at last said, "Old man--comin'."
+
+A horseman came into view on the ridge, sitting his horse with the grace
+and ease of one who lives in the saddle. As he zig-zagged down the steep
+bank, his pony, a vicious and powerful roan "grade," was on its haunches
+half the time, sliding, leaping, trotting. The rider, a smallish man,
+with a brown beard, was dressed in plain clothing, much the worse for
+wind and sun. He seemed not to observe the steepness and roughness of
+the trail.
+
+As he rode up and slipped from his horse Mose felt much drawn to him,
+for his was a kindly and sad face. His voice, as he spoke, was low and
+soft, only his eyes, keen and searching, betrayed the resolute
+plainsman.
+
+"Howdy, stranger?" he said in Southern fashion. "Glad to see you, sir."
+
+Mose presented his note from Delmar.
+
+"From old Delmar, eh? How did you leave him? In good health and spirits,
+I hope."
+
+He spoke in the rhythmical way of Tennesseans, emphasizing the auxiliary
+verbs beyond their usual value. After reading the letter he extended his
+hand. "I am very glad to meet you, sir. I am indeed. Bill, take care of
+Mr.----" He paused, and looked at the latter.
+
+"Mose--Mose Harding," interpolated Mose.
+
+"Put in Harding's horse. Come right in, Mr. Harding; I reckon dinner is
+in process of simmering by this time."
+
+"Call me Mose," said the youth. "That's what Delmar called me."
+
+Reynolds smiled. "Very good, sir; Mose it shall be."
+
+They entered the front door into the low-ceiled, small sitting room
+where a young girl was sitting sewing, with a babe at her feet.
+
+"My daughter, Mrs. Craig," said Reynolds gently. "Daughter, this young
+man is Mr. Mose Harding, who comes from my old friend Delmar. He is
+going to stay with us for a time. Sit down, Mose, and make yourself at
+home."
+
+The girl blushed painfully, and Mose flushed sympathetically. He could
+not understand the mystery, and ignored her confusion as far as
+possible. The room was shabby and well worn. A rag carpet covered the
+floor. The white plastered walls had pictures cut from newspapers and
+magazines pinned upon them to break the monotony. The floor was littered
+also with toys, clothing, and tools, which the baby had pulled about,
+but the room wrought powerfully upon the boy's heart, giving him the
+first real touch of homesickness he had felt since leaving the Burns'
+farm that bright March day, now so far away it seemed that it was deep
+in the past. For a few moments he could not speak, and the girl was
+equally silent. She gathered up the baby's clothes and playthings, and
+passed into another room, leaving the young man alone.
+
+His heart was very tender with memories. He thought of Mary and of his
+sister Maud, and his throat ached. The wings of the young eagle were
+weary, and here was safety and rest, he felt that intuitively, and when
+Reynolds returned with his wife, a pleasant-featured woman of large
+frame, tears were in the boy's eyes.
+
+Mrs. Reynolds wiped her fingers on her apron and shook hands with him
+cordially. "I s'pose you're hungry as a wolf. Wal, I'll hurry up dinner.
+Mebbe you'd like a biscuit?"
+
+Mose professed to be able to wait, and at last convinced the hospitable
+soul. "Wal, I'll hurry things up a little," she said as she went out.
+Reynolds, as he took a seat, said: "Delmar writes that you just got
+mixed up in some kind o' fuss down there. I reckon you had better tell
+me how it was."
+
+Mose was glad to unburden his heart. As the story proceeded, Reynolds
+sat silently looking at the stove hearth, glancing at the youth only now
+and again as he reached some dramatic point. The girl came back into the
+room, and as she listened, her timidity grew less painful. The boy's
+troubles made a bond of sympathy between them, and at last Mose found
+himself telling his story to her. Her beautiful brown eyes grew very
+deep and tender as he described his flight, his hunger, and his
+weariness.
+
+When he ended, she drew a sigh of sympathetic relief, and Reynolds said:
+"Mm! you have no certain knowledge, I reckon, whether you killed your
+man or not?"
+
+"I can't remember. It was dark. We fired a dozen shots. I am afraid I
+hit; I am too handy with the revolver to miss."
+
+"Mm, so Delmar says. Well, you're out of the State, and I have no belief
+they will take the trouble to look you up. Anyhow, I reckon you better
+stay with us till we see how the fuss ends. You certainly are a likely
+young rider, an' I can use you right hyere till you feel like goin'
+farther."
+
+A wave of grateful emotion rushed over the boy, blinding his eyes with
+tears, and before he could speak to thank his benefactor, dinner was
+called. The girl perceived the tears in his eyes, and as they went out
+to dinner she looked at him with a comradeship born of the knowledge
+that he, too, had suffered.
+
+He returned her glance with one equally frank and friendly, and all
+through the meal he addressed himself to her more often than to her
+parents. She was of the most gentle, and patient, and yielding type. Her
+beautiful lips and eyes expressed only sweetness and feminine charm, and
+her body, though thin and bent, was of girlish slimness.
+
+Reynolds warmed to the boy wondrously. As they arose from the table he
+said:
+
+"We'll ride over to the round-up to-morrow, and I'll introduce you to
+the cow boss, and you can go right into the mess. I'll turn my horse
+over to you; I'm getting mighty near too old to enjoy rustlin' cattle
+together, and I'll just naturally let you take my place."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+ON THE ROUND-UP
+
+
+Mose was awakened next morning by the whirring of the coffee mill, a
+vigorous and cheerful sound. Mrs. Reynolds and Cora were busily
+preparing breakfast, and their housewifely movements about the kitchen
+below gave the boy a singular pleasure. The smell of meat in the pan
+rose to his nostrils, and the cooing laughter of the baby added a final
+strand in a homely skein of noises. No household so homelike and secure
+had opened to him since he said good-by to his foster parents in Rock
+River.
+
+He dressed and hurried down and out to the barn. Frost lay white on the
+grass, cattle were bawling somewhere in the distance. The smoke of the
+kitchen went up into the sky straight as a poplar tree. The beautiful
+plain, hushed and rapt, lay waiting for the sun.
+
+As he entered the stable, Mose found Reynolds looking carefully at Jack.
+"That looks a gentle horse; I can't see a mean thing about him. I don't
+reckon he's a cow hoss, is he?"
+
+"No, I don't suppose he is a regular cow horse, but he'll soon learn."
+
+"I must trade you outen that hoss. I certainly am 'blieged to do so. I'm
+growin' old, boy. I don't take the pleasu' in a broncho that I once did.
+I certainly am tired of hosses I can't touch with my hand. Fo' fo'ty
+yeahs I have handled these locoed hosses--they ah all locoed in my
+judgment--and I am plum tired of such. I shall send to Missouri aw
+Tennessee and get me a hoss I can trust. Meanwhile, you leave me yo'
+hoss an' take my bald-face pinto there; he is the fastest hoss on the
+range an' a plum devil, but that won't mattah to you, for you ah young
+an' frisky."
+
+Mose hated to yield up his gentle and faithful horse even for a short
+time, but could not decently refuse. He shifted his saddle to the pinto
+with Reynolds' help.
+
+"Whoa, there, Wild Cat," called the rancher, as the wicked eyes began to
+roll. "He'll get usen to ye after a day or two," he said reassuringly.
+
+Mose's horsemanship was on trial, and though nervous and white, he led
+the pinto out and prepared to mount.
+
+"If he wants to gambol a little, just let him go, only keep his head
+up," said Reynolds with careless glance.
+
+Cora came out of the house and stood looking on, while Mose tightened
+the cinch again, and grasping the pommel with both hands put his toe in
+the stirrup. The pinto leaped away sidewise, swift as a cat, but before
+he could fairly get into motion Mose was astride, with both feet in the
+stirrups. With a series of savage sidewise bounds, the horse made off at
+a tearing pace, thrusting his head upon the bit in the hope to jerk his
+rider out of his seat. Failing of this he began to leap like a sheep.
+Just as he was about to let up on this Mose sank the rowels into him
+with a wild yell, and hotly lashed him from side to side with the end of
+his rope. For a few rods the horse continued to leap with stiffened legs
+and upraised back, then abandoned all tricks and ran up the hill like a
+scared antelope.
+
+When Reynolds caught up with his new "hand" he smiled and said: "I
+reckon you can be trusted to look out fo' yo'sef," and the heart of the
+youth glowed with pleasure.
+
+Again he felt the majesty and splendor of the life into which he had
+penetrated. The measureless plain, dimpled and wrinkled, swept downward
+toward the flaming eastern sky unmarked of man. To the west, cut close
+across their snow tops by the plain's edge, three enormous and
+snow-armored peaks arose, the sunlight already glittering on the thin,
+new-fallen snows.
+
+Coyotes, still at vigil on the hills, slid out of sight at the coming of
+the horsemen. The prairie dogs peered sleepily from their burrows.
+Cattle in scattered bands snuffed and stared or started away hulking,
+yet swift, the bulls sullen and ferocious, the calves wild as deer.
+There were no fences, no furrows, no wagon tracks, no sign of sheep. It
+was the cow country in very truth.
+
+On the way Reynolds said very little. Occasionally as they drew their
+ponies to a walk he remarked upon the kindliness of the horse, and said,
+"I hope you'll like my horse as well as I like youah's."
+
+It was nearly twelve o'clock when they topped a treeless ridge and came
+in sight of the round-up. Below them, in the midst of a wide, grassy
+river flat, stood several tents and a covered wagon. Nearby lay a strong
+circular corral of poplar logs filled with steers. At some distance from
+the corral a dense mass of slowly revolving cattle moved, surrounded by
+watching horsemen. Down from the hills and up the valley came other
+horsemen, hurrying forward irregular bands of cows and calves. A small
+fire near the corral was sending up a pale strand of smoke, and at the
+tail of the wagon a stovepipe, emitting a darker column, told that
+dinner was in preparation. Over the scene the cloudless September sky
+arched. Dust arose under the heels of the herds, and the bawling roar of
+bulls, the call of agonized cows, and the answering bleat of calves
+formed the base of the shrill whoopings and laughter of the men. Nothing
+could be wilder, more stirring, more picturesque, except a camp of Sioux
+or Cheyennes in the days of the buffalo.
+
+In a few minutes Mose was in the midst of the turmoil. Everyone greeted
+Reynolds with affection, and he replied in the stately phrases which had
+made him famous, "How do you do, gentlemen. I certainly am glad to see
+you enjoyin' this fine fall day. Captain Charlesworth, allow me to
+present my young friend, Moses Harding."
+
+Captain Charlesworth, a tall man with a squint eye and a humorous
+glance, came up to shake hands as Mose slipped from his broncho.
+
+Reynolds went on: "Captain Charlesworth is cow boss, an' will see that
+you earn yo' bo'd. Cap'n, this young man comes from my good friend,
+Cap'n Delmar, of Sante Fe. You know Delmar?"
+
+"I should think so," said the boss. "It seems this youngster kin ride,
+seem's he's on Wild Cat."
+
+Reynolds smiled: "I reckon you can consider him both able and willin',
+captain."
+
+"Well, slip off an' eat. I'll take care o' the cayuses."
+
+On the ground, scattered among the tents, and in the shade of the cook
+wagon, were some twenty or thirty herders. For the most part they were
+slender, bronzed, and active, of twenty-five or thirty, with broad white
+hats (faded and flapping in the brim), gray or blue woolen shirts (once
+gay with red lacing), and dark pantaloons, tucked into tall boots with
+long heels. Spurs jingled at the heels of their tall boots, and most of
+them wore bandannas of silk or cotton looped gracefully about their
+necks. A few of the younger ones wore a sort of rude outside trouser of
+leather called "chaps," and each of them carried a revolver slung at the
+hip. They were superb examples of adaptation to environment, alert,
+bold, and graceful of movement.
+
+A relay of them were already at dinner, with a tin plate full of "grub"
+and a big tin cup steaming with coffee before each man. They sat almost
+anywhere to eat, on saddles, wagon tongues--any convenient place. Some
+of them, more orderly, were squatted along a sort of table made of
+folded blankets piled through the center of a tent. Here Reynolds took a
+seat, and Mose followed, shrinking a little from the keen scrutiny of
+the men. The fact that Reynolds vouched for him, however, was
+introduction, and the cook made a place for him readily enough, and
+brought him a plate and a cup.
+
+"Boys," said Reynolds, "this young feller is just come to town. His name
+is Mose Harding, and he can ride a hoss all right, all right. He's
+a-goin' to make a hand here in my place; treat him fair."
+
+There was a moment's awkward pause, and then Mose said: "I'm going to
+try to do my share."
+
+As he had time to look around he began to individualize the men. One of
+the first to catch his eye was an Indian who sat near the door of the
+tent. He was dressed like the other men, but was evidently a full-blood.
+His skin was very dark, not at all red or copper colored, and Mose
+inferred that he was a Ute. His eyes were fixed on Mose with intent
+scrutiny, and when the boy smiled the Indian's teeth gleamed white in
+ready good nature, and they were friends at once. The talk was all about
+the work on hand, the tussles with steers, the number of unbranded
+calves, the queries concerning shipment, etc.
+
+Dinner was soon over, and "Charley," as the cow boss was called by his
+men, walked out with Mose toward the corral. "Kin ye rope?" he asked.
+
+"No, not for a cent."
+
+"Let him hold the herd foh a day or two," suggested Reynolds. "Give him
+time to work in."
+
+"All right, s'pose you look after him this afternoon."
+
+Together Reynolds and Mose rode out toward the slowly "milling" herd, a
+hungry, hot, and restless mob of broadhorns, which required careful
+treatment. As he approached, the dull roar of their movement, their
+snuffling and moaning, thrilled the boy. He saw the gleaming, clashing
+horns of the great animals uplift and mass and change, and it seemed to
+him there were acres and acres of them.
+
+Reynolds called out to two sweating, dusty, hoarse young fellows: "Go to
+grub, boys."
+
+Without a word they wheeled their horses and silently withdrew, while
+Reynolds became as instantly active.
+
+His voice arose to a shout: "Now, lively, Mose, keep an eye on the herd,
+and if any cow starts to break out--lively now--turn him in."
+
+A big bay steer, lifting his head, suddenly started to leave the herd.
+Mose spurred his horse straight at him with a yell, and turned him
+back.
+
+"That's right," shouted Reynolds.
+
+Mose understood more of it than Reynolds realized. He took his place in
+the cordon, and aided in the work with very few blunders. The work was
+twofold in character. Fat cattle were to be cut out of the herd for
+shipment, unbranded calves were to be branded, and strays tallied and
+thrown back to their own feeding grounds. Into the crush of great,
+dusty, steaming bodies, among tossing, cruel, curving horns the men rode
+to "cut out" the beeves and to rope the calves. It was a furious scene,
+yet there was less excitement than Mose at first imagined. Occasionally,
+as a roper returned, he paused on the edge of the herd long enough to
+"eat" a piece of tobacco and pass a quiet word with a fellow, then
+spurring his horse, re-entered the herd again. No matter how swift his
+action, his eyes were quiet.
+
+It was hard work; dusty, hot, and dangerous also. To be unhorsed in that
+struggling mass meant serious injury if not death. The youth was glad of
+heart to think that he was not required to enter the herd.
+
+That night, when the horse herd came tearing down the mesa, Reynolds
+said: "Now, Mose, you fall heir to my shift of horses, too. Let me show
+them to you. Each man has four extra horses. That wall-eyed roan is
+mine, so is the sorrel mare with the star face. That big all-over bay,
+the finest hoss in the whole outfit, is mine, too, but he is unbroken.
+He shore is a hard problem. I'll give him to you, if you can break him,
+or I'll trade him for your Jack."
+
+"I'll do it," cried Mose, catching his breath in excitement as he
+studied the splendid beast. His lithe, tigerlike body glittered in the
+sun, though his uplifted head bore a tangled, dusty mat of mane. He was
+neglected, wary, and unkempt, but he was magnificent. Every movement of
+his powerful limbs made the boy ache to be his master.
+
+Thus Mose took his place among the cowboys. He started right, socially,
+this time. No one knew that he had been a sheep herder but Reynolds, and
+Reynolds did not lay it up against him. He was the equal of any of them
+in general horsemanship, they admitted that at the end of the second
+day, though he was not so successful in handling cattle as they thought
+he should be. It was the sense of inefficiency in these matters which
+led him to give an exhibition of his skill with the revolver one evening
+when the chance offered. He shot from his horse in all conceivable
+positions, at all kinds of marks, and with all degrees of speed, till
+one of the boys, accustomed to good shooting, said:
+
+"You kin jest about shoot."
+
+"That's right," said the cow boss; "I'd hate to have him get a grutch
+agin me."
+
+Mose warmed with pardonable pride. He was taking high place in their
+ranks, and was entirely happy during these pleasant autumn days. On his
+swift and wise little ponies he tore across the sod in pursuit of swift
+steers, or came rattling down a hillside, hot at the heels of a
+wild-eyed cow and calf, followed by a cataract of pebbles. Each day he
+bestrode his saddle till his bones cried out for weariness, and his
+stomach, walls ground together for want of food, but when he sat among
+his fellows to eat with keenest pleasure the beef and beans of the pot
+wrestler's providing, he was content. He had no time to think of Jack or
+Mary except on the nights when he took his trick at watching the night
+herd. Then, sometimes in the crisp and fragrant dusk, with millions of
+stars blazing overhead, he experienced a sweet and powerful longing for
+a glimpse of the beautiful girlish face which had lightened his days and
+nights in prison.
+
+The herders were rough, hearty souls, for the most part, often obscene
+and rowdy as they sat and sang around the camp fire. Mose had never
+been a rude boy; on the contrary, he had always spoken in rather
+elevated diction, due, no doubt, to the influence of his father, whose
+speech was always serious and well ordered. Therefore, when the songs
+became coarse he walked away and smoked his pipe alone, or talked with
+Jim the Ute, whose serious and dignified silence was in vivid contrast.
+
+Some way, coarse speech and ribald song brought up, by the power of
+contrast, the pure, sweet faces of Mary and his sister Maud. Two or
+three times in his boyhood he had come near to slaying pert lads who had
+dared to utter coarse words in his sister's presence. There was in him
+too much of the essence of the highest chivalry to permit such things.
+
+It happened, therefore, that he spent much time with "Ute Jim," who was
+a simple and loyal soul, thoughtful, and possessing a sense of humor
+withal. Mose took great pleasure in sitting beside the camp fire with
+this son of the plains, while he talked of the wild and splendid life of
+the days before the white man came. His speech was broken, but Mose
+pieced it out by means of the sign language, so graceful, so dignified,
+and so dramatic, that he was seized with the fervid wish to acquire a
+knowledge of it. This he soon did, and thereafter they might be seen at
+any time of day signaling from side to side of the herd, the Indian
+smiling and shaking his head when the youth made a mistake.
+
+Jim believed in his new friend, and when questions brought out the
+history of the dispossession of his people he grew very sorrowful. His
+round cheeks became rigid and his eyes were turned away. "Injun no like
+fight white man all time. Injun gotta fight. White man crowd Injun back,
+back, no game, no rain, no corn. Injun heap like rivers, trees, all
+same--white man no like 'um, go on hot plain, no trees, no mountains, no
+game."
+
+But he threw off these somber moods quickly, and resumed his stories of
+himself, of long trips to the snowpeaks, which he seemed to regard in
+the light of highest daring. The high mountains were not merely far from
+the land of his people; they were mythic places inhabited by monstrous
+animals that could change from beast to fowl, and talk--great, conjuring
+creatures, whose powers were infinite in scope. As the red man struggled
+forward in his story, attempting to define these conceptions, the heart
+of the prairie youth swelled with a poignant sense of drawing near a
+great mystery. The conviction of Jim's faith for the moment made him
+more than half believe in the powers of the mountain people. Day by day
+his longing for the "high country" grew.
+
+At the first favorable moment he turned to the task of subduing the
+splendid bay horse for which he had traded his gentle Jack. One Sunday,
+when he had a few hours off, Mose went to Alf, the chief "roper," and
+asked him to help him catch "Kintuck," as Reynolds called the bay.
+
+"All right," said Alf; "I'll tie him up in a jiffy."
+
+"Can you get him without marking him all up?"
+
+"I don't believe it. He's going to thrash around like h--l a-blazin';
+we'll have to choke him down."
+
+Mose shook his head. "I can't stand that. I s'pose it'll skin his
+fetlocks if you get him by the feet."
+
+"Oh, it may, may not; depends on how he struggles."
+
+Mose refused to allow his shining, proud-necked stallion to be roped and
+thrown, and asked the boys to help drive him into a strong corral,
+together with five or six other horses. This was done, and stripping
+himself as for a race, Mose entered the coral and began walking rapidly
+round and round, following the excited animals. Hour after hour he kept
+this steady, circling walk, till the other horses were weary, till
+Kintuck ceased to snort, till the blaze of excitement passed out of his
+eyes, till he walked with a wondering backward glance, as if to ask:
+"Two-legged creature, why do you so persistently follow me?"
+
+The cowboys jeered at first, but after a time they began to marvel at
+the dogged walk of the youth. They gathered about the walls of the
+corral and laid bets on the outcome. At the end of the third hour
+Kintuck walked with a mechanical air, all the fire and fury gone out of
+him. He began to allow his pursuer to approach him closely, almost near
+enough to be touched. At the end of the four hours he allowed Mose to
+lay his hand on his nose, and Mose petted him and went to dinner. Odds
+stood in Mose's favor as he returned to the corral. He was covered with
+dust and sweat, but he was confident. He began to speak to the horse in
+a gentle, firm voice. At times the stallion faced him with head lifted,
+a singular look in his eyes, as though he meditated leaping upon his
+captor. At first Mose took no notice of these actions, did not slacken
+his pace, but continued to press the bay on and on. At last he began to
+approach the horse with his hand lifted, looking him in the eyes and
+speaking to him. Snorting as if with terror, the splendid animal faced
+him again and again, only to wheel at the last moment.
+
+The cowboys were profanely contemptuous. "Think of taking all that
+trouble."
+
+"Rope him, and put a saddle on him and bust him," they called
+resoundingly.
+
+Mose kept on steadily. At last, when all the other horses had been
+turned loose, Kintuck, trembling, and with a curious stare in his eyes,
+again allowed Mose to lay his hand on his nose. He shrank away, but did
+not wheel. It was sunset, and the horse was not merely bewildered, he
+was physically tired. The touch of his master's hand over his eyes
+seemed to subjugate him, to take away his will. When Mose turned to walk
+away the horse followed him as though drawn by some magnetic force, and
+the herders looked at each other in amazement. Thereafter he had but to
+be accustomed to the bridle and saddle, and to be taught the duties of a
+cow horse. He had come to love his master.
+
+This exploit increased the fame of "Dandy Mose," as the cowboys came to
+call him, because of the nature of his dress. He was bronzed now, and a
+very creditable brown mustache added to the maturity of his face. He was
+gaunt with hard riding, and somber and reticent in manner, so that he
+seemed to be much older than his years. Before the beef round-up was
+ended, he could rope a steer fairly well, could cut out or hold the
+herd as well as the best, and in pistol practice he had no equal.
+
+He was well pleased with himself. He loved the swift riding, the night
+watches, the voices of wolves, the turmoil of the camp, the rush of the
+wild wide-horned herd, and the pounding roar of the relay horses as they
+came flying into camp of a morning. It all suited well with the leaping
+blood of his heart and the restless vigor of his limbs. He thought of
+his old home very little--even Mary was receding into the mist of
+distance.
+
+When the beef herd was ready to be driven to the shipping point,
+Reynolds asked him if he wished to go. He shook his head. "No, I'll stay
+here." He did not say so, but he was still a little afraid of being
+called to account for his actions in Running Bear. He saw the herd move
+off with regret, for he would have enjoyed the ride exceedingly. He
+cared little for the town, though he would have liked the opportunity to
+make some purchases. He returned to the Reynolds ranch to spend the
+autumn and the winter in such duties as the stock required.
+
+As the great peaks to the west grew whiter and whiter, looming ever
+larger at dawn, the heart of the boy grew restless. The dark canons
+allured him, the stream babbled strange stories to him--tales of the
+rocky spaces from which it came--until the boy dreamed of great white
+doors that opened on wondrous green parks.
+
+One morning when Cora called the men to breakfast Mose and Jim did not
+respond. A scrawl from Mose said: "We've gone to the mountains. I'll be
+back in the spring. Keep my outfit for me, and don't worry."
+
+
+
+
+PART II
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+THE YOUNG EAGLE FLUTTERS THE DOVE-COTE
+
+
+The little town of Marmion was built on the high, grassy, parklike bank
+of the Cedar River; at least, the main part of the residences and stores
+stood on the upper level, while below, beside the roaring water, only a
+couple of mills and some miserable shacks straggled along a road which
+ran close to the sheer walls of water-worn limestone.
+
+The town was considered "picturesque" by citizens of the smaller farm
+villages standing bleakly where the prairie lanes intersected. To be
+able to live in Marmion was held to be eminent good fortune by the
+people roundabout, and the notion was worth working for. "If things turn
+out well we will buy a lot in Marmion and build a house there," husbands
+occasionally said to their wives and daughters, to console them for the
+mud, or dirt, or heat, or cold of the farm life. One by one some of
+those who had come into the country early, and whose land had grown
+steadily in value as population increased, were able to rent their farms
+to advantage and "move into town." Thus the streets gradually lengthened
+out into the lanes, and brick blocks slowly replaced the battlemented
+wooden stores of earlier frontier construction.
+
+To Harold Excell, fresh from the wide spaces of the plains, the town
+appeared smothered in leaves, and the air was oppressively stagnant. He
+came into the railway station early one July morning, tired and dusty,
+with a ride of two days and a night in an ordinary coach. As he walked
+slowly up the street toward the center of the sleeping village, the odor
+of ripe grain and the familiar smell of poplar and maple trees went to
+his heart. His blood leaped with remembered joys. Under such trees, in
+the midst of such fragrance, he had once walked with his sister and with
+Jack. His heart swelled with the thought of the Burns' farm, and the
+hearty greeting they would give him could he but ride up to the door.
+
+And Mary! How would she seem to him now? Four years was a long time at
+that period of a girl's life, but he was certain he would recognize her.
+He had not written to her of his coming, for he wished to announce
+himself. There were elements of adventure and surprise in the plan which
+pleased him. He had not heard from her for nearly a year, and that
+troubled him a little; perhaps she had moved away or was married. The
+thought of losing her made him shiver with sudden doubt of the good
+sense of his action. Anyhow, he would soon know.
+
+The clerk of the principal hotel was sleeping on a cot behind the
+counter, and Mose considerately decided not to wake him. Taking a seat
+by the window, he resumed his thinking, while the morning light
+infiltrated the sky. He was only twenty-two years of age, but in his own
+thought he had left boyhood far behind. As a matter of fact he looked to
+be five years older than he was. His face was set in lines indicating
+resolution and daring, his drooping mustache hid the boyish curves of
+his lips, and he carried himself with a singular grace, self-confident,
+decisive, but not assertive. The swing of his shoulders had charm, and
+he walked well. The cowboy's painful hobble had not yet been fastened
+upon him.
+
+Sitting there waiting the dawn, his face became tired, somber, almost
+haggard, with self-accusing thought. He was not yet a cattle king, he
+was, in fact, still a cowboy. The time had gone by when a hired hand
+could easily acquire a bunch of cattle and start in for himself--and
+yet, though he had little beyond his saddle and a couple of horses, he
+was in Marmion to look upon the face of the girl who had helped him to
+keep "square" and clean in a land where dishonesty and vice were common
+as sage brush. He had sworn never to set foot in Rock River again, and
+no one but Jack knew of his visit to Marmion.
+
+Now that he was actually in the town where Mary lived he was puzzled to
+know how to proceed. He had wit enough to know that in Marmion a girl
+could not receive visits from a strange young man and escape the fire of
+infuriate gossip. He feared to expose her to such comment, and yet,
+having traveled six hundred miles to see her, he was not to be deterred
+by any other considerations, especially by any affecting himself.
+
+He knew something, but not all, of the evil fame his name conveyed to
+the citizens in his native state. As "Harry Excell, _alias_ Black Mose,"
+he had figured in the great newspapers of Chicago, and Denver, and
+Omaha. Imaginative and secretly admiring young reporters had heaped
+alliterative words together to characterize his daring, his skill as a
+marksman and horseman, and had also darkly hinted of his part in
+desperate stage and railway robbery in the Farther West. To all this--up
+to the time of his return--Harold had replied, "These chaps must earn a
+living some way, I reckon." He was said to have shot down six men in
+his first "scrimmage." "No one presumes to any impertinent inquiries
+when 'Black Mose' rides into town."
+
+Another enterprising newspaper youth had worked out the secret history
+of "Black Mose": "He began his career of crime early; at sixteen years
+of age he served in State's prison for knifing a rival back in the
+States." This report enabled the Rock River Call to identify Harold
+Excell with "Black Mose," to the pain and humiliation of Pastor Excell.
+
+Harold paid very little heed to all this till his longing to see Mary
+grew intolerable--even now, waiting for the Sabbath day to dawn, he did
+not fully realize the black shadow which streamed from his name and his
+supposititious violences. He divined enough of it to know that he must
+remain unknown to others, and he registered as "M. Harding, Omaha."
+
+He was somewhat startled to find himself without appetite, and pushing
+away his tough steak and fried potatoes, he arose and returned to the
+street. The problem before him required delicacy of handling, and he was
+not one to assume a tactful manner. The closer he came to the meeting
+the more difficult it became. He must see her without causing comment,
+and without Jack's aid he saw no way of doing it. He had written to
+Jack, asking him to meet him, and so he waited.
+
+He was a perilously notable figure in spite of his neat black suit and
+quiet ways. His wide hat sat upon his head with a negligence which
+stopped short of swagger, and his coat revealed the splendid lines of
+his muscular shoulders. He had grown to a physical manhood which had the
+leopard's lithe grace and the lion's gravity. His dimpled and
+clean-shaven chin was strong, and the line of his lips firm. His eyes
+were steady and penetrating, giving an impression of reticence. His
+hands were slender and brown, and soft in the palms as those of a girl.
+The citizens marveled over him as he moved slowly through the streets,
+thinking himself quite indistinguishable among the other young men in
+dark suits and linen collars.
+
+Waiting was most difficult, and to remain indoors was impossible, so he
+walked steadily about the town. As he returned from the river road for
+the fifth time, the bells began to ring for church, filling him with
+other memories of his youth, of his father and his pulpit, and brought
+to his mind also the sudden recollection of one of Jack's letters,
+wherein he mentioned Mary's singing in the choir. If she were at home
+she would be singing yet, he argued, and set forth definitely to find
+her.
+
+To inquire was out of the question--so he started in at the largest
+church with intent to make the rounds. After waiting till the choir was
+about to begin the first hymn, he slipped in and took a seat near the
+door, his heart beating loudly and his breath much quickened.
+
+The interior was so familiar, it seemed for the moment to be his
+father's church in Rock River. The odors, sounds, movements were quite
+the same. The same deaf old men, led by determined, sturdy old women,
+were going up the aisle to the front pews. The pretty girls, taking
+their seats in the middle pews (where their new hats could be enjoyed by
+the young men at the rear) became Dot, and Alice, and Nettie--and for
+the moment the cowboy was very boyish and tender. The choir assembling
+above the pulpit made him shiver with emotion. "Perhaps one of them will
+be Mary and I won't know her," he said to himself. "I will know her
+voice," he added.
+
+But, as the soprano took her place, his heart ceased to pound--she was
+small, and dark, and thin. He arose and slipped out to continue his
+search.
+
+They were singing as he entered the next chapel, and it required but a
+moment's listening to convince himself that Mary was not there. The
+third church was a small stone building of odd structure, and while he
+hesitated before its door, a woman's voice took up a solo strain,
+powerful, exultant, and so piercingly sweet that the plainsman shivered
+as if with sudden cold. Around him the softly moving maples threw
+dappling shadows on the walk. The birds in the orchards, the insects in
+the grass, the clouds overhead seemed somehow involved in the poetry and
+joy of that song. The wild heart of the young trailer became like that
+of a child, made sweet and tender by the sovereign power of a voice.
+
+He did not move till the clear melody sank into the harmony of the
+organ, then, with bent head and limbs unwontedly infirm, he entered the
+lovely little audience room. He stumbled into the first seat in the
+corner, his eyes piercing the colored dusk which lay between him and the
+singer. It was Mary, and it seemed to him that she had become a
+princess, sitting upon a throne. Accustomed to see only the slatternly
+women of the cow towns, or the thin, hard-worked, and poorly-dressed
+wives and daughters of the ranchers, he humbled himself before the
+beauty and dignity and refinement of this young singer.
+
+She was a mature woman, full-bosomed, grave of feature, introspective of
+glance. Her graceful hat, her daintily gloved hands, her tasteful dress,
+impressed the cowboy with a feeling that all art and poetry and
+refinement were represented by her. For the moment his own serenity and
+self-command were shaken. He cowered in his seat like a dust-covered
+plowman in a parlor, and when Mary looked in his direction his breath
+quickened and he shrank. He was not yet ready to have her recognize him.
+
+The preacher, a handsome and scholarly young fellow, arose to speak, and
+Harold was interested in him at once. The service had nothing of the
+old-time chant or drawl or drone. In calm, unhesitating speech the young
+man proceeded, from a text of Hebrew scripture, to argue points of right
+and wrong among men, and to urge upon his congregation right thinking
+and right action. He used a great many of the technical phrases of
+carpenters and stonemasons and sailors. He showed familiarity also with
+the phrases of the cattle country. Several times a low laugh rippled
+over his congregation as he uttered some peculiarly apt phrase or made
+use of some witty illustration. To the cowboy this sort of preaching
+came with surprise. He thought: "The boys would kieto to this chap all
+right." He was not eager to have them listen to Mary singing.
+
+Sitting there amid the little audience of thoughtful people, his brain
+filled with new conceptions of the world and of human life. Nothing was
+clearly defined in the tumult of opposing pictures. At one moment he
+thought of his sister and his family, but before he could imagine her
+home or decide on how to see her, a picture of his father, or Jack, or
+the peaceful Burns' farm came whirling like another cloud before his
+brain, and all the time his eyes searched Mary's calm and beautiful
+face. He saw her smile, too, when the preacher made a telling
+application of a story. How would she receive him after so many years?
+She had not answered his last letter; perhaps she was married. Again the
+chilly wind from the canon of doubt blew upon him. If she was, why that
+ended it. He would go back to the mountains and never return.
+
+The minister finished at last and Mary arose again to sing. She was
+taller, Harold perceived, and more matronly in all ways. As she sang,
+the lonely soul of the plainsman was moved to an ecstasy which filled
+his throat and made his eyes misty with tears. He thought of his days in
+the gray prison, and of this girlish voice singing like an angel to
+comfort him. She did not seem to be singing to him now. She sang as a
+bird sings out of abounding health and happiness, and as she sang, the
+mountains retreated into vast distances. The rush of the cattle on the
+drive was fainter than the sigh of the wind, and the fluting of the Ute
+lover was of another world. For the moment he felt the majesty and the
+irrevocableness of human life.
+
+He stood in a shadowed corner at the close of the service and watched
+her come down the aisle. As she drew near his breath left him, and the
+desire to lay his hand on her arm became so intense that his fingers
+locked upon the back of his pew--but he let her pass. She glanced at him
+casually, then turned to smile at some word of the preacher walking just
+behind her. Her passing was like music, and the fragrance of her
+garments was sweeter than any mountain flower. The grace of her walk,
+the exquisite fairness of her skin subdued him, who acknowledged no
+master and no mistress. She walked on out into the Sabbath sunshine and
+he followed, only to see her turn up the sidewalk close to the shoulder
+of the handsome young minister.
+
+The lonely youth walked back to his hotel with manner so changed his
+mountain companions would have marveled at it. A visit which had seemed
+so simple on the Arickaree became each moment more complicated in
+civilization. The refined young minister with the brown pointed beard,
+so kindly and thoughtful and wholesome of manner, was a new sort of man
+to such as Harold Excell. He feared no rivalry among the youth of the
+village, but this scholar----
+
+Jack met him at the hotel--faithful old Jack, whose freckled face
+beamed, and whose spectacled eyes were dim with gladness. They shook
+hands again and again, crying out confused phrases. "Old man, how are
+you?" "I'm all right, how are you?" "You look it." "Where'd you find the
+red whiskers?" "They came in a box." "Your mustache is a wonder."
+
+Ultimately they took seats and looked at each other narrowly and
+quietly. Then Harold said, "I'm Mr. Harding here."
+
+Jack replied: "I understand. Your father knows, too. He wants to come up
+and see you. I said I'd wire, shall I?"
+
+"Of course--if he wants to see me--but I want to talk to you first. I've
+seen Mary!"
+
+"Have you? How did you manage?"
+
+"I trailed her. Went to all the churches in town. She sings in a little
+stone church over here."
+
+"I know. I've been up here to see her once or twice myself."
+
+Harold seized him by the arm. "See here, Jack--I must talk with her. How
+can I manage it without doing her harm?"
+
+"That's the question. If these people should connect you with 'Black
+Mose' they'd form a procession behind you. Harry, you don't know, you
+can't imagine the stories they've got up about you. They've made you
+into a regular Oklahoma Billy the Kid and train robber. The first great
+spread was that fight you had at Running Bear, that got into the Omaha
+papers in three solid columns about six months after it happened. Of
+course I knew all about it from your letters--no one had laid it to you
+then, but now everybody knows you are 'Black Mose,' and if you should be
+recognized you couldn't see Mary without doing her an awful lot of harm.
+You must be careful."
+
+"I know all that," replied Harold gloomily. "But you must arrange for me
+to see her right away, this afternoon or to-night."
+
+"I'll manage it. They know me here and I can call on her and take a
+friend, an old classmate, you see, without attracting much
+attention--but it isn't safe for you to stay here long, somebody is
+dead-sure to identify you. They've had two or three pictures of you
+going around that really looked like you, and then your father coming up
+may let the secret out. We must be careful. I'll call on Mary
+immediately after dinner and tell her you are here."
+
+"Is she married? Some way she seemed like a married woman."
+
+"No, she's not married, but the young preacher you heard this morning
+is after her, they say, and he's a mighty nice chap."
+
+There was no more laughter on the gentle, red-bearded face of young
+Burns. Had Harold glanced at him sharply at that moment, he would have
+seen a tremor in Jack's lips and a singular shadow in his eyes. His
+voice indeed did affect Harold, though he took it to be sympathetic
+sadness only.
+
+Jack brightened up suddenly. "I can't really believe it is you, Harry.
+You've grown so big and burly, and you look so old." He smiled. "I wish
+I could see some of that shooting they all tell about, but that _would_
+let the cat out."
+
+Harold could not be drawn off to discuss such matters.
+
+"Come out to the ranch and I'll show you. But how are we to meet father?
+If he is seen talking with me it may start people off----"
+
+"I'll tell you. We'll have him come up and join you on the train and go
+down to Rock River together. I don't mean for you to get off, you can
+keep right on. Now, you mustn't wear that broad hat; you wear a
+grape-box straw hat while you're here. Take mine and I'll wear a cap."
+
+He took charge of Harold's affairs with ready and tactful hand. He was
+eager to hear his story, but Harold refused to talk on any other
+subject than Mary. At dinner he sat in gloomy silence, disregarding his
+friend's pleasant, low-voiced gossip concerning old friends in Rock
+River.
+
+After Jack left the hotel Harold went to his room and took a look at
+himself in the glass. He was concerned to see of what manner of man he
+really was. He was not well-satisfied with himself; his face and hands
+were too brown and leathery, and when he thought of his failure as a
+rancher his brow darkened. He was as far from being a cattle king as
+when he wrote that boyish letter four years before, and he had sense
+enough to know that a girl of Mary's grace and charm does not lack for
+suitors. "Probably she is engaged or married," he thought. Life seemed a
+confusion and weariness at the moment.
+
+As soon as he heard Jack on the stairs he hurried to meet him.
+
+"What luck? Have you seen her?"
+
+Jack closed the door before replying, "Yes."
+
+"What did she say?"
+
+"She turned a little paler and just sat still for a minute or two. You
+know she isn't much of a talker. Then she said, 'Was he at church
+to-day?' I said 'Yes'; then she said, 'I think I saw him. I saw a
+stranger and was attracted by his face, but of course I never thought
+it could be Harold.' She was completely helpless for a while, but as I
+talked she began to see her way. She finally said, 'He has come a long
+way and I must see him. I _must_ talk with him, but people must not know
+who he is.' I told her we were going to be very careful for her sake."
+
+"That's right, we must," Harold interrupted.
+
+"She didn't seem scared about herself. 'It won't harm me,' she said,
+'but father is hard to manage when anything displeases him. We must be
+careful on Harold's account.'"
+
+Harold's throat again contracted with emotion. "She never thinks of
+herself; that's her way."
+
+"Now we've just got to walk boldly up the walk, the two of us together,
+and call on her. I'll introduce you to her father or she will; he knows
+me. We will talk about our school days while the old gentleman is
+around. He will drift away after a time, naturally. If he doesn't I'll
+take him out for a walk."
+
+This they did. Made less of a cowboy by Jack's straw hat, Harold went
+forth on a trail whose course was not well-defined in his mind, though
+now that Jack had arranged details so deftly that Mary was not in danger
+of being put to shame, his native courage and resolution came back to
+him. In the full springtide of his powerful manhood Mary's name and face
+had come at last to stand for everything worth having in the world, and
+like a bold gambler he was staking all he had on a single whirl of the
+wheel.
+
+Their meeting was so self-contained that only a close observer could
+have detected the tension. Mary was no more given to externalizing her
+emotions than he. She met him with a pale, sweet, dignified mask of
+face. She put out her hand, and said, "I am glad to see you, Mr.
+Harding," but his eyes burned down into hers with such intensity that
+she turned to escape his glance. "Father, you know Mr. Burns, and this
+is his friend, Mr. Harding, whom I used to know."
+
+Jack came gallantly to the rescue. He talked crops, politics, weather,
+church affairs, and mining. He chattered and laughed in a way which
+would have amazed Harold had he not been much preoccupied. He was
+unprepared for the change in Mary. He had carried her in his mind all
+these years as a little slip of a maiden, wrapt in expression, somber of
+mood, something half angel and half child, and always she walked in a
+gray half light, never in the sun. Now here she faced him, a dignified
+woman, with deep, serene eyes, and he could not comprehend how the pale
+girl had become the magnetic, self-contained woman. He was thrown into
+doubt and confusion, but so far from showing this he sat in absolute
+silence, gazing at her with eyes which made her shiver with emotion.
+
+Talk was purposeless and commonplace at first, a painful waiting.
+Suddenly they missed Jack and the father. They were alone and free to
+speak their most important words. Harold seized upon the opportunity
+with most disconcerting directness.
+
+"I've come for you, Mary," he said, as if he had not hitherto uttered a
+word, and his voice aroused some mysterious vibration within her bosom.
+"I'm not a cattle king; I have nothing but two horses, a couple of guns,
+and a saddle--but all the same, here I am. I got lonesome for you, and
+at last I took the back trail to find out whether you had forgot me or
+not."
+
+His pause seemed to require an answer and her lips were dry as she said
+in a low voice, "No, I did not forget, but I thought you had forgotten
+_me_."
+
+"A man don't forget such a girl as you are, Mary. You were in my mind
+all the time. Your singing did more for me than anything else. I've
+tried to keep out of trouble for your sake. I haven't succeeded very
+well as you know--but most of the stories about me are lies. I've only
+had two fights and they were both in self-defense and I don't think I
+killed anybody. I never know exactly what I'm doing when I get into a
+scrap. But I've kept out of the way of it on your account. I never go
+after a man. It's pretty hard not to shoot out there where men go on the
+rampage so often. It's easier, now than it used to be, for they are
+afraid of me."
+
+He seemed to come to a halt in that direction, and after a moment's
+pause took a new start. "I saw you at church to-day, and I saw you walk
+off with the minister, and that gave me a sudden jolt. It seemed to me
+you--liked him mighty well----"
+
+She was sitting in silence and apparent calmness, but she flushed and
+her lips set close together. It was evident that no half-explanations
+would suffice this soul of the mountain land.
+
+He arose finally and stood for an instant looking at her with piercing
+intentness. His deep excitement had forced him to physical action.
+
+"I could see he was the man for you, not me. Right there I felt like
+quitting. I went back to my hotel doing more thinking to the square
+minute than ever before in my life, I reckon. I ought to have pulled out
+for the mountains right then, but you see, I had caught a glimpse of
+you again, and I couldn't. The smell of your dress----" he paused a
+moment. "You are the finest girl God ever made and I just couldn't go
+without seeing you, at least once more."
+
+He was tense, almost rigid with the stress of his sudden passion. She
+remained silent with eyes fixed upon him, musing and somber. She was
+slower to utter emotion than he, and could not speak even when he had
+finished.
+
+He began to walk up and down just before her, his brows moodily knitted.
+"I'm not fit to ask a girl like you to marry me, I know that. I've
+served time in jail, and I'm under indictment by the courts this very
+minute in two States. I'm no good on earth but to rope cattle. I can't
+bring myself to farm or sell goods back here, and if I could you
+oughtn't to have anything to do with me--but all the same you're worth
+more to me than anything else. I don't suppose there has been an hour of
+my life since I met you first that I haven't thought of you. I dreamed
+of you--when I'm riding at night--I try to think----"
+
+He stopped abruptly and caught up her left hand. "You've got a ring on
+your finger--is that from the minister?"
+
+Her eyes fled from his and she said, "Yes."
+
+He dropped her hand. "I don't blame you any. I've made a failure of it."
+His tone was that of a bankrupt at fifty. "I don't know enough to write
+a letter--I'm only a rough, tough fool. I thought you'd be thinking of
+me just the way I was thinking of you, and there was nothing to write
+about because I wasn't getting ahead as I expected. So I kept waiting
+till something turned up to encourage me. Nothing did, and now I'm paid
+for it."
+
+His voice had a quality which made her weep. She tried to think of some
+words of comfort but could not. She was indeed too deeply concerned with
+her own contending emotions. There was marvelous appeal in this
+powerful, bronzed, undisciplined youth. His lack of tact and gallantry,
+his disconcerting directness of look and speech shook her, troubled her,
+and rendered her weak. She was but a year younger than he, and her life
+had been almost as simple exteriorly, but at center she was of far finer
+development. She had always been introspective, and she had grown
+self-analytic. She knew that the touch of this young desperado's hand
+had changed her relation toward the world. As he talked she listened
+without formulating a reply.
+
+When at last she began to speak she hesitated and her sentences were
+broken. "I am very sorry--but you see I had not heard from you for a
+long time--it would be impossible--for me to live on the plains so far
+away--even if--even if I had not promised Mr. King----"
+
+"Well, that ends it," he said harshly, and his voice brought tears
+again. "I go back to my cow punching, the only business I know. As you
+say, the cow country is no place for a girl like you. It's a mighty hard
+place for women of any kind, and you ... Besides, you're a singer, you
+can't afford to go with me. It's all a part of my luck. Things have gone
+against me from the start."
+
+He paused to get a secure hold on his voice. "Well, now, I'm going, but
+I don't want you to forget me; don't pray for me, just _sing_ for me.
+I'll hear you, and it'll help keep me out of mischief. Will you do
+that?"
+
+"Yes--if you--if it will help----"
+
+Jack's voice, unusually loud, interrupted her, and when the father
+entered, there was little outward sign of the passionate drama just
+enacted.
+
+"Won't you sing for us, Mary?" asked Jack a few minutes later.
+
+Mary looked at Harold significantly and arose to comply. Harold sat with
+head propped on his palm and eyes fixed immovably upon her face while
+she sang, If I Were a Voice. The voice was stronger, sweeter, and the
+phrasing was more mature, but it was after all the same soul singing
+through the prison gloom, straight to his heart. She charged the words
+with a special, intimate, tender meaning. She conveyed to him the
+message she dared not speak, "Be true in spite of all. My heart is sore
+for you, let me comfort you."
+
+He, on his part, realized that one who could sing like that had a wider
+mission in the world than to accompany a cowboy to the bleak plains of
+the West. To comfort him was a small part of her work in the world. It
+was her mission to go on singing solace and pleasure to thousands all
+over the nation.
+
+When she had finished he arose and offered his hand with a singular
+calmness which moved the girl more deeply than any word he had said.
+"When you sing that song, think of me, sometimes, will you?"
+
+"Yes--always," she replied.
+
+"Good-by," he said abruptly. Dropping her-hand, he went out without
+speaking another word.
+
+Jack, taking her hand in parting, found it cold and nerveless.
+
+"May I see you again before we go?" he asked.
+
+Her eyes lighted a little and her hand tightened in his. "Yes--I want to
+speak with you," she said, and ended in a whisper, "about him."
+
+Jack overtook Harold but remained silent. When they reached their room,
+Harold dropped into a chair like one exhausted by a fierce race.
+
+"This ends it, Jack, I'll never set foot in the States again; from this
+time on I keep to the mountains."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE YOUNG EAGLE DREAMS OF A MATE
+
+
+As the young men sat at supper that night a note was handed to Jack by
+the clerk. Upon opening it he found a smaller envelope addressed to "Mr.
+Harding." Harold took it, but did not open it, though it promised well,
+being quite thick with leaves. Jack read his note at a glance and passed
+it across the table. It was simple:
+
+    "DEAR MR. BURNS: Won't you please see that the inclosed note
+    reaches Harold. I wish you could persuade him to come and see me
+    once more before he goes. I shall expect to see _you_ anyhow.
+    Father does not suspect anything out of the ordinary as yet, and
+    it will be quite safe.
+
+                                    "Your friend,
+                                              "MARY YARDWELL."
+
+As soon as he decently could Harold went to his room and opened the
+important letter. In it the reticent-girl had uttered herself with
+unusual freedom. It was a long letter, and its writer must have gone to
+its composition at once after the door had closed upon her visitors. It
+began abruptly, too:
+
+    "DEAR FRIEND: My heart aches for you. From the time I first
+    saw you in the jail I have carried your face in my mind. I
+    can't quite analyze my feeling for you now. You are so
+    different from the boy I knew. I think I am a little afraid
+    of you, you scare me a little.  You are of another world, a
+    strange world of which I would like to hear. I have a woman's
+    curiosity, I can't let you go away until you tell me all your
+    story. I would like to say something on my own side
+    also. Can't you come and see me once more? My father is going
+    to be away at his farm all day to-morrow, can't you come with
+    Mr.  Burns and take dinner with me and tell me all about
+    yourself--your life is so strange.
+
+    "There will be no one there (I mean at dinner) but Mr. Burns
+    and you, and we can talk freely. Does being 'under
+    indictment' mean that you are in danger of arrest? I want to
+    understand all about that. You can't know how strange and
+    exciting all these things are to me. My life is so humdrum
+    here. You come into it like a great mountain wind. You take
+    my words away as well as my breath. I am not like most women,
+    words are not easy to me even when I write, though I write
+    better than I talk--I think.
+
+    "Mr. King asked me to be his wife some months ago, and I
+    promised to do so, but that is no reason why we should not be
+    good friends.  You have been too much in my life to go out of
+    it altogether, though I had given up seeing you again, and
+    then we always think of our friends as we last saw them, we
+    can't imagine their development. Don't you find this so? You
+    said you found me changed.
+
+    "I have little to tell you about myself. I graduated and then
+    I spent one winter in Chicago to continue my music studies. I
+    am teaching here summers to get pin money. It is so quiet
+    here one grows to think all the world very far away, and the
+    wild things among which you have lived and worked are almost
+    unimaginable even when the newspapers describe them with the
+    greatest minuteness.
+
+    "This letter is very rambling, I know, but I am writing as
+    rapidly as I can, for I want to send it to you before you
+    take the train.  Please come to see me to-morrow. To-night I
+    sing in the song service at the church. I hope you will be
+    there. The more I think about your story the more eager to
+    listen I become. There must be some basis of stirring deeds
+    for all the tales they tell of you.  My friends say I have a
+    touch of the literary poison in my veins; anyhow I like a
+    story above all things, and to hear the hero tell his own
+    adventures will be the keenest delight.
+
+    "I am sorry I could not do more to make things easier for you
+    to-day, but I come of men and women who are silent when they
+    mean most. I am never facile of speech and to-day I was
+    dumb. Perhaps if we meet on a clear understanding we will get
+    along better. Come, anyhow, and let me know you as you
+    are. Perhaps I have never really known you, perhaps I only
+    imagined you.
+
+                                    "Your friend,
+                                              "MARY YARDWELL.
+
+    "P.S. The reason for the postscript is that I have re-read
+    the foregoing letter and find it unsatisfactory in everything
+    except the expression of my wish to see you. I had meant to
+    say so much and I have said so little. I am afraid now that I
+    shall not see you at all, so I add my promise. I shall always
+    remember you and I _will_ think of you when I sing, and I
+    will sing If I Were a Voice every Sunday for you, especially
+    when I am all alone, and I'll send it out to you by thought
+    waves. You shall never fail of the best wishes of
+
+                                              "MARY YARDWELL."
+
+Not being trained in psychologic subtleties, Harold took this letter to
+mean only what it said. He was not as profoundly moved by it as he would
+have been could he have read beneath the lines the tumult he had
+produced in the tranquil life of its writer. One skilled in perception
+of a woman's moods could have detected a sense of weakness, or
+irresolution, or longing in a girl whose nature had not yet been tried
+by conflicting emotions.
+
+Jack perceived something of this when Harold gave him the letter to
+read. His admiration of Harold's grace and power, his love for every
+gesture and every lineament of his boyish hero, made it possible for him
+to understand how deeply Mary had been moved when brought face to face
+with a handsome and powerful man who loved as lions love. He handed the
+letter back with a smile: "I think you'd better stay over and see her."
+
+"I intend to," replied Harold; "wire father to come up."
+
+"Let's go walk. We may happen by the church where she sings," suggested
+Jack.
+
+It was a very beautiful hour of the day. The west was filled with cool,
+purple-gray clouds, and a fresh wind had swept away all memory of the
+heat of the day. Insects filled the air with quavering song. Children
+were romping on the lawns. Lovers sauntered by in pairs or swung under
+the trees in hammocks. Old people sat reading or listlessly talking
+beside their cottage doors. A few carriages were astir. It was a day of
+rest and peace and love-making to this busy little community. The mills
+were still and even the water seemed to run less swiftly, only the
+fishes below the dam had cause to regret the day's release from toil,
+for on every rock a fisherman was poised.
+
+The tension being a little relieved, Harold was able to listen to Jack's
+news of Rock River. His father was still preaching in the First Church,
+but several influential men had split off and were actively antagonizing
+the majority of the congregation. The fight was at its bitterest. Maud
+had now three children, and her husband was doing well in hardware. This
+old schoolmate was married, that one was dead, many had moved West.
+Bradley Talcott was running for State Legislator. Radbourn was in
+Washington.
+
+Talking on quietly the two young men walked out of the village into a
+lane bordered with Lombardy poplars. Harold threw himself down on the
+grass beneath them and said:
+
+"Now I can imagine I am back on the old farm. Tell me all about your
+folks."
+
+"Oh, they're just the same. They don't change much. Father scraped some
+money together and built a new bedroom on the west side. Mother calls it
+'the boys' room.' By 'boys' they mean you and me. They expect us to
+sleep there when you come back on a visit. They'll be terribly
+disappointed at not seeing you. Mother seems to think as much of you as
+she does of me."
+
+There was charm in the thought of the Burns' farm and Mrs. Burns coming
+and going about the big kitchen stove, the smell of wholesome cooking
+about her clothing, and for the moment the desperado's brain became as a
+child's. There was sadness in the thought that he never again could see
+his loyal friends or the old walks and lanes.
+
+Jack aroused him and they walked briskly back toward the little church
+which they found already quite filled with young people. The choir,
+including Mary, smiled at the audience and at each other, for the spirit
+of the little church was humanly cheerful.
+
+The strangers found seats in a corner pew together with a pale young man
+and a very pretty little girl. Jack was not imaginative, but he could
+not help thinking of the commotion which would follow if those around
+him should learn that "Black Mose" was at that moment seated among them.
+Mary, seeing the dark, stern face of the plainsman, had some such
+thought also. There was something gloriously unfettered, compelling, and
+powerful in his presence. He made the other young men appear commonplace
+and feeble in her eyes, and threw the minister into pale relief,
+emphasizing his serenity, his scholarship, and his security of position.
+
+Harold gave close attention to the young minister, who, as Mary's lover,
+became important. As a man of action he put a low valuation on a mere
+scholar, but King was by no means contemptible physically. Jack also
+perceived the charm of such a man to Mary, and acknowledged the good
+sense of her choice. King could give her a pleasant home among people
+she liked, while Harold could only ask her to go to the wild country, to
+a log ranch in a cottonwood gulch, there to live month after month
+without seeing a woman or a child.
+
+A bitter and desperate melancholy fell upon the plainsman. What was the
+use? Such a woman was not for him. He had only the pleasure of the wild
+country. He would go back to his horses, his guns, and the hills, and
+never again come under the disturbing influence of this beautiful
+singer. She was not of his world; her smiles were not for him. When the
+others arose in song he remained seated, his sullen face set toward the
+floor, denying himself the pleasure of even seeing Mary's face as she
+sang.
+
+Her voice arose above the chorus, guiding, directing, uplifting the less
+confident ones. When she sang she was certain of herself, powerful,
+self-contained. That night she sang with such power and sweetness that
+the minister turned and smiled upon her at the end. He spoke over the
+low railing which separated them: "You surpass yourself to-night."
+
+Looking across the heads of the audience as they began to take seats
+Harold saw this smile and action, and his face darkened again.
+
+For her solo Mary selected one which expressed in simple words the
+capabilities each humble soul had for doing good. If one could not storm
+the stars in song one could bathe a weary brow. If one could not write a
+mighty poem one could speak a word of cheer to the toiler by the way.
+
+It was all poor stuff enough, but the singer filled it with significance
+and appeal. At the moment it seemed as if such things were really worth
+doing. Each word came from her lips as though it had never been uttered
+by human lips before, so simple, so musical, so finely enunciated, so
+well valued was it. To Harold, so long separated from any approach to
+womanly art, it appealed with enormous power. He was not only
+sensitive, he was just come to the passion and impressionability of
+full-blooded young manhood. Powers converged upon him, and simple and
+direct as he was, the effects were confusion and deepest dejection. He
+heard nothing but Mary's voice, saw nothing but her radiant beauty. To
+him she was more wonderful than any words could express.
+
+At the end of the singing he refused to wait till she came down the
+aisle, but hurried out into the open air away from the crowd. As Jack
+caught up with him he said: "You go to bed; I've got to take a run out
+into the country or I can't sleep at all. Father will be up in the
+morning, I suppose. I'll get off in the six o'clock train to-morrow
+night."
+
+Jack said nothing, not even in assent, and Mose set off up the lane with
+more of mental torment than had ever been his experience before.
+Hitherto all had been simple. He loved horses, the wild things, the
+trail, the mountains, the ranch duties, and the perfect freedom of a man
+of action. Since the door of his prison opened to allow him to escape
+into the West he had encountered no doubts, had endured no remorse, and
+had felt but little fear. All that he did was forthright, manly,
+single-purposed, and unhesitating.
+
+Now all seemed changed. His horses, his guns, the joys of free spaces,
+were met by a counter allurement which was the voice of a woman. Strong
+as he was, stern as he looked, he was still a boy in certain ways, and
+this mental tumult, so new and strange to him, wearied him almost to
+tears. It was a fatigue, an ache which he could not shake off, and when
+he returned to the hotel he had settled nothing and was ready to flee
+from it all without one backward look. However, he slept soundlier than
+he thought himself capable of doing.
+
+He was awakened early by Jack: "Harry, your father is here, and very
+anxious to see you."
+
+Mose arose slowly and reluctantly. He had nothing to say to his father,
+and dreaded the interview, which he feared would be unpleasantly
+emotional. The father met him with face pale and hands trembling with
+emotion. "My son, my son!" he whispered. Mose stood silently wondering
+why his father should make so much fuss over him.
+
+Mr. Excell soon recovered his self-command, and his voice cleared. "I
+had almost given up seeing you, Harold. I recognize you with
+difficulty--you have changed much. You seem well and strong--almost as
+tall as I was at your age."
+
+"I hold my own," said Harold, and they all sat down more at ease. "I got
+into rough gangs out there, but I reckon they got as good as they
+sent."
+
+"I suppose the newspapers have greatly exaggerated about your
+conflicts?"
+
+Harold was a little disposed to shock his father. "Oh, yes, I don't
+think I really killed as many men as they tell about; I don't know that
+I killed any."
+
+"I hope you did not lightly resort to the use of deadly weapons," said
+Mr. Excell sadly.
+
+"It was kill or be killed," said Harold grimly. "It was like shooting a
+pack of howling wolves. I made up my mind to be just one shot ahead of
+anybody. There are certain counties out there where the name 'Black
+Mose' means something."
+
+"I'm sorry for that, my son. I hope you don't drink?"
+
+"Don't you worry about that. I can't afford to drink, and if I could I
+wouldn't. Oh, I take a glass of beer with the boys once in a while on a
+hot day, but it's my lay to keep sober. A drunken man is a soft mark."
+He changed the subject: "Seems to me you're a good deal grayer."
+
+Mr. Excell ran his fingers through the tumbled heap of his grizzled
+hair. "Yes; things are troubling me a little. The McPhails are fighting
+me in the church, and intend to throw me out and ruin me if they can,
+but I shall fight them till the bitter end. I am not to be whipped out
+like a dog."
+
+"That's the talk! Don't let 'em run you out. I got run out of Cheyenne,
+but I'll never run again. I was only a kid then. After you throw 'em
+down, come out West and round up the cowboys. They won't play any
+underhanded games on you, and mebbe you can do them some
+good--especially on gambling. They are sure enough idiots about cards."
+
+They went down to breakfast together, but did not sit together.
+
+Jack and Harold talked in low voices about Mr. Excell.
+
+"The old man looks pretty well run down, don't he?" said Harold.
+
+"He worries a whole lot about you."
+
+"He needn't to. When does he go back?"
+
+"He wants to stay all day--just as long as he can."
+
+"He'd better pull right out on that ten o'clock train. His being here is
+sure to give me away sooner or later."
+
+It was hard for the father to say good-by. He had a feeling that it was
+the last time he should ever see him, and his face was gray with
+suffering as he faced his son for the last time. Harold became not
+merely unresponsive, he grew harsher of voice each moment. His father's
+tremulous and repeated words seemed to him foolish and absurd--and also
+inconsiderate. After he was gone he burst out in wrath.
+
+"Why can't he act like a man? I don't want anybody to snivel over me.
+Suppose I _am_ to be shot this fall, what of it?"
+
+This disgust and bitterness prepared him, strange to say, for his call
+upon Mary. He entered the house, master of himself and the situation.
+His nerves were like steel, and his stern face did not quiver in its
+minutest muscle, though she met him in most gracious mood, dressed as
+for conquest and very beautiful.
+
+"I'm so glad you stayed over," she said. "I have been so eager to hear
+all about your life out there." She led the way to the little parlor
+once more and drew a chair near him.
+
+"Well," he began, "it isn't exactly the kind of life your Mr. King
+leads."
+
+There was a vengeful sneer in his voice which Mary felt as if he had
+struck her, but she said gently:
+
+"I suppose our life does seem very tame to you now."
+
+"It's sure death. I couldn't stand it for a year; I'd rot."
+
+Mary was aware that some sinister change had come over him, and she
+paused to study him keenly. The tremulous quality of his voice and
+action had passed away. He was hard, stern, self-contained, and she
+(without being a coquette) determined that his mood should give way to
+hers. He set himself hard against the charm of her lovely presence and
+the dainty room. Mary ceased to smile, but her brows remained level.
+
+"You men seem to think that all women are fond only of the quiet things,
+but it isn't true. We like the big deeds in the open air, too. I'd like
+to see a cattle ranch and take a look at a 'round-up,' though I don't
+know exactly what that means."
+
+"Well, we're not on the round-up all the time," he said, relaxing a
+little. "It's pretty quiet part of the time; that is, quiet for our
+country. But then, you're always on a horse and you're out in the air on
+the plains with the mountains in sight. There's a lot of hard work about
+it, too, and it's lonesome sometimes when your're ridin' the lines, but
+I like it. When it gets a little too tame for me I hit the trail for the
+mountains with an Indian. The Ogallalahs are my friends, and I'm going
+to spend the winter with them and then go into the West Elk country. I'm
+due to kill a grizzly this year and some mountain sheep." He was started
+now, and Mary had only to listen. "Before I stop, I'm going to know all
+there is to know of the Rocky Mountains. With ol' Kintuck and my
+Winchester I'm goin' to hit the sunset trail and hit it hard. There's
+nothing to keep me now," he said with a sudden glance at her. "It don't
+matter where I turn up or pitch camp. I reckon I'd better not try to be
+a cattle king." He smiled bitterly and pitilessly at the poor figure he
+cut. "I reckon I'm a kind of a mounted hobo from this on."
+
+"But your father and sister----"
+
+"Oh, she isn't worryin' any about me; I haven't had a letter from her
+for two years. All I've got now is Jack, and he'd be no earthly good on
+the trail. He'd sure lose his glasses in a fight, and then he couldn't
+tell a grizzly from a two-year-old cow. So you see, there's nothing to
+hinder me from going anywhere. I'm footloose. I want to spend one summer
+in the Flat Top country. Ute Jim tells me it's fine. Then I want to go
+into the Wind River Mountains for elk. Old Talfeather, chief of the
+Ogallalahs, has promised to take me into the Big Horn Range. After that
+I'm going down into the southwest, down through the Uncompagre country.
+Reynolds says they're the biggest yet, and I'm going to keep right down
+into the Navajo reservation. I've got a bid from old Silver Arrow, and
+then I'm going to Walpi and see the Mokis dance. They say they carry
+live rattlesnakes in their mouths. I don't believe it: I'm going to see.
+Then I swing 'round to the Grand Canon of the Colorado. They say that's
+the sorriest gash in the ground that ever happened. Reynolds gave me a
+letter to old Hance; he's the man that watches to see that no one
+carries the hole away. Then I'm going to take a turn over the Mohave
+desert into Southern California. I'm due at the Yosemite Valley about a
+year from next fall. I'll come back over the divide by way of Salt
+Lake."
+
+He was on his feet, and his eyes were glowing. He seemed to have
+forgotten all women in the sweep of his imaginative journey.
+
+"Oh, that will be grand! How will you do it?"
+
+"On old Kintuck, if his legs don't wear off."
+
+"How will you live?"
+
+"Forage where I can. Turn to and help on a 'round-up,' or 'drive' where
+I can--shoot and fish--oh, I'll make it if it takes ten years."
+
+"Then what?" Mary asked, with a curious intonation.
+
+"Then I'll start for the Northwest," he replied after a little
+hesitation--"if I live. Of course the chances are I'll turn up my toes
+somewhere on the trail. A man is liable to make a miss-lick somewhere,
+but that's all in the game. A man had better die on the trail than in a
+dead furrow."
+
+Mary looked at him with dreaming eyes. His strange moods filled her with
+new and powerful emotions. The charm of the wild life he depicted
+appealed to her as well as to him. It was all a fearsome venture, but
+after all it was glorious. The placid round of her own life seemed for
+the moment intolerably commonplace. There was epic largeness in the
+circuit of the plainsman's daring plans. The wonders of Nature which he
+catalogued loomed large in the misty knowledge she held of the West. She
+cried out:
+
+"Oh, I wish I could see those wonderful scenes!"
+
+He turned swiftly: "You can; I'll take you."
+
+She shrank back. "Oh, no! I didn't mean that--I meant--some time----"
+
+His face darkened. "In a sleeping car, I reckon. That time'll never
+come."
+
+Then a silence fell on them. Harold knew that his plans could not be
+carried out with a woman for companion--and he had sense enough to know
+that Mary's words were born of a momentary enthusiasm. When he spoke it
+was with characteristic blunt honesty.
+
+"No; right here our trails fork, Mary. Ever since I saw you in the jail
+the first time, you've been worth more to me than anything else in the
+world, but I can see now that things never can go right with you and me.
+I couldn't live back here, and you couldn't live with me out there. I'm
+a kind of an outlaw, anyway. I made up my mind last night that I'd hit
+the trail alone. I won't even ask Jack to go with me. There's something
+in me here"--he laid his hand on his breast--"that kind o' chimes in
+with the wind in the pinons and the yap of the ky-ote. The rooster and
+the church bells are too tame for me. That's all there is about it.
+Maybe when I get old and feeble in the knees I'll feel like pitchin' a
+permanent camp, but just now I don't; I want to be on the move. If I had
+a nice ranch, and you, I might settle down now, but then you couldn't
+stand even a ranch with nearest neighbors ten miles away." He turned to
+take his hat. "I wanted to see you--I didn't plan for anything
+else--I've seen you and so----"
+
+"Oh, you're not going now!" she cried. "You haven't told me your story."
+
+"Oh, yes, I have; all that you'd care to hear. It don't amount to much,
+except the murder charges, and they are wrong. It wasn't my fault. They
+crowded me too hard, and I had to defend myself. What is a man to do
+when it's kill or be killed? That's all over and past, anyway. From this
+time on I camp high. The roosters and church bells are getting too thick
+on the Arickaree."
+
+He crushed his hat in his hand as he turned to her, and tears were in
+her eyes as she said:
+
+"Please don't go; I expected you to stay to dinner with me."
+
+"The quicker I get out o' here the better," he replied hoarsely, and she
+saw that he was trembling. "What's the good of it? I'm out of it."
+
+She looked up at him in silence, her mind filled with the confused
+struggle between her passion and her reason. He allured her, this grave
+and stern outlaw, appealing to some primitive longing within her.
+
+"I hate to see you go," she said slowly. "But--I--suppose it is best. I
+don't like to have you forget me--I shall not forget you, and I will
+sing for you every Sunday afternoon, and no matter where you are, in a
+deep canon, or anywhere, or among the Indians, you just stop and listen
+and think of me, and maybe you'll hear my voice."
+
+Tears were in her eyes as she spoke, and he took a man's advantage of
+her emotion.
+
+"Perhaps if I come back--if I make a strike somewhere--if you'd say
+so----"
+
+She shook her head sadly but conclusively. "No, no, I can't promise
+anything."
+
+"All right--that settles it. Good-by."
+
+And she had nothing better to say than just "Good-by, good-by."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE YOUNG EAGLE RETURNS TO HIS EYRIE
+
+
+It was good to face the West again. The wild heart of the youth flung
+off all doubt, all regret. Not for him were the quiet joys of village
+life. No lane or street could measure his flight. His were the gleaming,
+immeasurable walls of the Sangre de Cristo range, his the grassy
+mountain parks and the silent canons, and the peaks. "To hell with the
+East, and all it owns," was his mood, and in that mood he renounced all
+claim to Mary.
+
+He sat with meditative head against the windowpane, listless as a caged
+and sullen eagle, but his soul was far ahead, swooping above the swells
+that cut into the murky sky. His eyes studied every rod of soil as he
+retraced his way up that great wind-swept slope, noting every change in
+vegetation or settlement. Five years before he had crept like a lizard;
+now he was rushing straight on like the homing eagle who sees his home
+crag gleam in the setting sun.
+
+The cactus looked up at him with spiney face. The first prairie dog
+sitting erect uttered a greeting to which he smiled. The first mirage
+filled his heart with a rush of memories of wild rides, and the grease
+wood recalled a hundred odorous camp fires. He was getting home.
+
+The people at the stations grew more unkempt, untamed. The broad hats
+and long mustaches of the men proclaimed the cow country at last. It
+seemed as though he might at any moment recognize some of them. At a
+certain risk to himself he got off the train at one or two points to
+talk with the boys. As it grew dark he took advantage of every wait to
+stretch his legs and enjoy the fresh air, so different in its clarity
+and crisp dryness from the leaf-burdened, mist-filled atmosphere of
+Marmion. He lifted his eyes to the West with longing too great for
+words, eager to see the great peaks peer above the plain's rim.
+
+The night was far spent when the brakeman called the name of the little
+town in which he had left his outfit, and he rose up stiff and sore from
+his cramped position.
+
+Kintuck, restless from long confinement in a stall, chuckled with joy
+when his master entered and called to him. It was still dark, but that
+mattered little to such as Mose. He flung the saddle on and cinched it
+tight. He rolled his extra clothes in his blanket and tied it behind
+his saddle, and then, with one hand on his pommel, he said to the
+hostler, moved by a bitter recklessness of mind:
+
+"Well, that squares us, stranger. If anybody asks you which-a-way 'Black
+Mose' rode jist say ye didn't notice." A leap, a rush of hoofs, and the
+darkness had eaten both horse and man.
+
+It was a long ride, and as he rode the dawn came over the plains, swift,
+silent, majestic with color. His blood warmed in his limbs and his head
+lifted. He was at home in the wild once more, all ties were cut between
+him and the East. Mary was not for him. Maud had grown indifferent, Jack
+would never come West, and Mr. and Mrs. Burns were merely cheery
+memories. There was nothing now to look backward upon--nothing to check
+his career as hunter and explorer. All that he had done up to this
+moment was but careful preparation for great journeys. He resolved to
+fling himself into unknown trails--to know the mountains as no other man
+knew them.
+
+Again he rode down into the valley of the Arickaree, and as the boys
+came rolling out with cordial shouts of welcome, his eyes smarted a
+little. He slipped from his horse and shook hands all around, and ended
+by snatching Pink and pressing her soft cheek against his
+lips--something he had never done before.
+
+They bustled to get his breakfast, while Reynolds took care of Kintuck.
+Cora, blushing prettily as she set the table for him, said: "We're
+mighty glad to see you back, Mose. Daddy said you'd never turn up again,
+but I held out you would."
+
+"Oh, I couldn't stay away from Kintuck and little Pink," he replied.
+
+"How'd they feed ye back there?" inquired Mrs. Reynolds.
+
+"Oh, fair to middlin'--but, of course, they couldn't cook like Ma
+Reynolds."
+
+"Oh, you go hark!" cried Mrs. Reynolds, vastly delighted. "They've got
+so much more to do with."
+
+It was good to sit there in the familiar kitchen and watch these simple,
+hearty women working with joy to feed him. His heart was very tender,
+and he answered most of their questions with unusual spirit, fending
+off, however, any reference to old sweethearts. His talk was all of
+absorbing interest to the women. They were hungry to know how people
+were living and dressing back there. It was so sweet and fine to be able
+to return to the East--and Mrs. Reynolds hoped to do so before she died.
+Cora drew from Mose the information that the lawns were beautifully
+green in Marmion, and that all kinds of flowers were in blossom, and
+that the birds were singing in the maples. Even his meagre descriptions
+brought back to the girl the green freshness of June.
+
+"Oh, I'm so tired of these bare hills," she said wistfully. "I wish I
+could go East again, back to our old home in Missouri."
+
+"I wish now I'd stayed here and sent you," said Mose.
+
+She turned in surprise. "Why so, Mose?"
+
+"Because I had so little fun out of it, while to you it would have been
+a picnic."
+
+"You're mighty good, Mose," was all she said in reply, but her eyes
+lingered upon his face, which seemed handsomer than ever before, for it
+was softened by his love, his good friends, and the cheerful home.
+
+In the days that followed Cora took on new youth and beauty. Her head
+lifted, and the swell of her bosom had more of pride and grace than ever
+before in her life. She no longer shrank from the gaze of men, even of
+strangers, for Mose seemed her lover and protector. Before his visit to
+the East she had doubted, but now she let her starved heart feed on
+dreams of him.
+
+Mose had little time to give to her, for (at his own request) Reynolds
+was making the highest use of his power. "I want to earn every cent I
+can for the next three months," Mose explained, and he often did double
+duty. He was very expert now with the rope and could throw and tie a
+steer with the best of the men. His muscles seemed never to tire nor his
+nerves to fail him. Rain, all-night rides, sleeping on the ground
+beneath frosty blankets, nothing seemed to trouble him. He was never
+cheery, but he was never sullen.
+
+One day in November he rode up to the home ranch leading a mule with a
+pack saddle fully rigged.
+
+"What are you doing with that mule?" asked Reynolds as he came out of
+the house, followed by Pink.
+
+"I'm going to pack him."
+
+"Pack him? What do you mean?"
+
+"I'm going to hit 'the long trail.'"
+
+Cora came hurrying forward. "Good evening, Mose."
+
+"Good evening, Cory. How's my little Pink?"
+
+"What did you say about hittin' the trail, Mose?"
+
+"Now I reckon you'll give an account of yourself," said Reynolds with a
+wink.
+
+Mose was anxious to avoid an emotional moment; he cautiously replied:
+"Oh, I'm off on a little hunting excursion; don't get excited about it.
+I'm hungry as a coyote; can I eat?"
+
+Cora was silenced but not convinced, and after supper, when the old
+people withdrew from the kitchen, she returned to the subject again.
+
+"How long are you going to be gone this time?"
+
+Mose saw the storm coming, but would not lie to avoid it.
+
+"I don't know; mebbe all winter."
+
+She dropped into a chair facing him, white and still. When she spoke her
+voice was a wail. "O Mose! I can't live here all winter without you."
+
+"Oh, yes, you can; you've got Pink and the old folks."
+
+"But I want _you_! I'll die here without you, Mose. I can't endure it."
+
+His face darkened. "You'd better forget me; I'm a hoodoo, Cory; nobody
+is ever in luck when I'm around. I make everybody miserable."
+
+"I was never really happy till you come," she softly replied.
+
+"There are a lot of better men than I am jest a-hone'in to marry you,"
+he interrupted her to say.
+
+"I don't want them--I don't want anybody but you, and now you go off and
+leave me----"
+
+The situation was beyond any subtlety of the man, and he sat in silence
+while she wept. When he could command himself he said:
+
+"I'm mighty sorry, Cory, but I reckon the best way out of it is to just
+take myself off in the hills where I can't interfere with any one's fun
+but my own. Seems to me I'm fated to make trouble all along the line,
+and I'm going to pull out where there's nobody but wolves and grizzlies,
+and fight it out with them."
+
+She was filled with a new terror: "What do you mean? I don't believe you
+intend to come back at all!" She looked at him piteously, the tears on
+her cheeks.
+
+"Oh, yes, I'll round the circle some time."
+
+She flung herself down on the chair arm and sobbed unrestrainedly.
+"Don't go--please!"
+
+Mose felt a sudden touch of the same disgust which came upon him in the
+presence of his father's enforcing affection. He arose. "Now, Cory, see
+here; don't you waste any time on me. I'm no good under the sun. I like
+you and I like Pinkie, but I don't want you to cry over me. I ain't
+worth it. Now that's the God's truth. I'm a black hoodoo, and you'll
+never prosper till I skip; I'm not fit to marry any woman."
+
+Singularly enough, this gave the girl almost instant comfort, and she
+lifted her head and dried her eyes, and before he left she smiled a
+little, though her face was haggard and tear stained.
+
+Mose was up early and had his packs ready and Kintuck saddled when Mrs.
+Reynolds called him to breakfast. Cora's pale face and piteous eyes
+moved him more deeply than her sobbing the night before, but there was a
+certain inexorable fixedness in his resolution, and he did not falter.
+At bottom the deciding cause was Mary. She had passed out of his life,
+but no other woman could take her place--therefore he was ready to cut
+loose from all things feminine.
+
+"Well, Mose, I'm sorry to see you go, I certainly am so," said Reynolds.
+"_But_, you ah you' own master. All I can say is, this old ranch is
+open to you, and shall be so long as we stay hyer--though I am mighty
+uncertain how long we shall be able to hold out agin this new land-boom.
+You had better not stay away too long, or you may miss us. I reckon we
+ah all to be driven to the mountains very soon."
+
+"I may be back in the spring. I'm likely to need money, and be obliged
+to come back to you for a job."
+
+On this tiny crumb of comfort Cora's hungry heart seized greedily. The
+little pink-cheeked one helped out the sad meal. She knew nothing of the
+long trail upon which her hero was about to set foot, and took
+possession of the conversation by telling of a little antelope which
+one of the cowboys had brought her.
+
+The mule was packed and Mose was about to say good-by. The sun was still
+low in the eastern sky. Frost was on the grass, but the air was crisp
+and pleasant. All the family stood beside him as he packed his outfit on
+the mule and threw over it the diamond hitch. As he straightened up he
+turned to the waiting ones and said: "Do you see that gap in the range?"
+
+They all looked where he pointed. Down in the West, but lighted into
+unearthly splendor by the morning light, arose the great range of snowy
+peaks. In the midst of this impassable wall a purple notch could be
+seen.
+
+"Ever sence I've been here," said Mose, with singular emotion, "I've
+looked away at that range and I've been waiting my chance to see what
+that canon is like. There runs my trail--good-by."
+
+He shook hands hastily with Cora, heartily with Mrs. Reynolds, and
+kissed Pink, who said: "Bring me a little bear or a fox."
+
+"All right, honey, you shall have a grizzly."
+
+He swung into the saddle. "Here I hit the trail for yon blue notch and
+the land where the sun goes down. So long."
+
+"Take care o' yourself, boy."
+
+"Come back soon," called Cora, and covered her face with her shawl in a
+world-old gesture of grief.
+
+In the days that followed she thought of him as she saw him last, a
+minute fleck on the plain. She thought of him when the rains fell, and
+prayed that he might not fall ill of fever or be whelmed by a stream. He
+seemed so little and weak when measured against that mighty and
+merciless wall of snow. Then when the cold white storms came and the
+plain was hid in the fury of wind and sleet, she shuddered and thought
+of him camped beside a rock, cold and hungry. She thought of him lying
+with a broken leg, helpless, while his faithful beasts pawed the ground
+and whinnied their distress. She spoke of these things once or twice,
+but her father merely smiled.
+
+"Mose can take care of himself, daughter, don't you worry."
+
+Months passed before they had a letter from him, and when it came it
+bore the postmark of Durango.
+
+    "DEAR FRIENDS: I should a-written before, but the fact is I
+    hate to write and then I've been on the move all the time. I
+    struck through the gap and angled down to Taos, a Pueblo
+    Indian town, where I stayed for a while--then went on down
+    the Valley to Sante Fee.  Then I hunted up Delmar. He was
+    glad to see me, but he looks old. He had a hell of a time
+    after I left. It wasn't the way the papers had it--but he won
+    out all right. He sold his sheep and quit. He said he got
+    tired of shooting men. I stayed with him--he's got a nice
+    family--two girls--and then I struck out into the Pueblo
+    country.  These little brown chaps interest me but they're a
+    different breed o' cats from the Ogallalahs. Everybody talks
+    about the Snake Dance at Moki, so I'm angling out that
+    way. I'm going to do a little cow punchin' for a man in
+    Apache County and go on to the Dance. I'm going through the
+    Navajoe reservation. I stand in with them. They've heard of
+    me some way--through the Utes I reckon."
+
+The accounts of the Snake Dance contained mention of "Black Mose," who
+kept a band of toughs from interfering with the dance. His wonderful
+marksmanship was spoken of. He did not write till he reached Flagstaff.
+His letter was very brief. "I'm going into the Grand Canon for a few
+days, then I go to work on a ranch south of here for the winter. In the
+spring I'm going over the range into California."
+
+When they heard of him next he was deputy marshal of a mining town, and
+the Denver papers contained long despatches about his work in clearing
+the town of desperadoes. After that they lost track of him
+altogether--but Cora never gave him up. "He'll round the big circle one
+o' these days--and when he does he'll find us all waiting, won't he,
+pet?" and she drew little Pink close to her hungry heart.
+
+
+
+
+PART III
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE EAGLE COMPLETES HIS CIRCLE
+
+
+All days were Sunday in the great mining camp of Wagon Wheel, so far as
+legal enactment ran, but on Saturday night, in following ancient habit,
+the men came out of their prospect holes on the high, grassy hills, or
+threw down the pick in their "overland tunnels," or deep shafts and
+rabbitlike burrows, and came to camp to buy provisions, to get their
+mail, and to look upon, if not to share, the vice and tumult of the
+town.
+
+The streets were filled from curb to curb with thousands of men in
+mud-stained coats and stout-laced boots. They stood in the gutters and
+in the middle of the street to talk (in subdued voices) of their claims.
+There was little noise. The slowly-moving streams of shoppers or
+amusement seekers gave out no sudden shouting. A deep murmur filled the
+air, but no angry curse was heard, no whooping. In a land where the
+revolver is readier than the fist men are wary of quarrel, careful of
+abuse, and studiously regardful of others.
+
+There were those who sought vice, and it was easily found. The saloons
+were packed with thirsty souls, and from every third door issued the
+click of dice and whiz of whirling balls in games of chance.
+
+Every hotel barroom swarmed with persuasive salesmen bearing lumps of
+ore with which to entice unwary capital. All the talk was of
+"pay-streaks," "leads," "float," "whins," and "up-raises," while in the
+midst of it, battling to save souls, the zealous Salvation Army band
+paraded to and fro with frenzied beating of drums. Around and through
+all this, listening with confused ears, gazing with wide, solemn eyes,
+were hundreds of young men from the middle East, farmers' sons, cowboys,
+mountaineers, and miners. To them it was an awesome city, this lurid
+camp, a wonder and an allurement to dissipation.
+
+To Mose, fresh from the long trail, it was irritating and wearying. He
+stood at the door of a saloon, superbly unconscious of his physical
+beauty, a somber dream in his eyes, a statuesque quality in his pose. He
+wore the wide hat of the West, but his neat, dark coat, though badly
+wrinkled, was well cut, and his crimson tie and dark blue shirt were
+handsomely decorative. His face was older, sterner, and sadder than
+when he faced Mary three years before. No trace of boyhood was in his
+manner. Seven years of life on the long trail and among the mountain
+peaks had taught him silence, self-restraint, and had also deepened his
+native melancholy. He had ridden into Wagon Wheel from the West, eager
+to see the great mining camp whose fame had filled the world.
+
+As he stood so, with the light of the setting sun in his face, the
+melancholy of a tiger in his eyes, a woman in an open barouche rode by.
+Her roving glance lighted upon his figure and rested there. "Wait!" she
+called to her driver, and from the shadow of her silken parasol she
+studied the young man's absorbed and motionless figure. He on his part
+perceived only a handsomely dressed woman looking out over the crowd.
+The carriage interested him more than the woman. It was a magnificent
+vehicle, the finest he had ever seen, and he wondered how it happened to
+be there on the mountain top.
+
+A small man with a large head stepped from the crowd and greeted the
+woman with a military salute. In answer to a question, the small man
+turned and glanced toward Mose. The woman bowed and drove on, and Mose
+walked slowly up the street, lonely and irresolute. At the door of a
+gambling house he halted and looked in. A young lad and an old man were
+seated together at a roulette table, and around them a ring of excited
+and amused spectators stood. Mose entered and took a place in the
+circle. The boy wore a look of excitement quite painful to see, and he
+placed his red and white chips with nervous, blundering, and ineffectual
+gestures, whereas the older man smiled benignly over his glasses and
+placed his single dollar chip each time with humorous decision. Each
+time he won. "This is for a new hat," he said, and the next time, "This
+is for a box at the theater." The boy, with his gains in the circle of
+his left arm, was desperately absorbed. No smile, no jest was possible
+to him.
+
+Mose felt a hand on his shoulder, and turning, found himself face to
+face with the small man who had touched his hat to the woman in the
+carriage. The stranger's countenance was stern in its outlines, and his
+military cut of beard added to his grimness, but his eyes were
+surrounded by fine lines of good humour.
+
+"Stranger, I'd like a word with you."
+
+Mose followed him to a corner, supposing him to be a man with mines to
+sell, or possibly a confidence man.
+
+"Stranger, where you from?"
+
+"From the Snake country," replied Mose.
+
+"What's your little game here?"
+
+Mose was angered at his tone. "None of your business."
+
+The older man flushed, and the laugh went out of his eyes. "I'll make it
+my business," he said grimly. "I've seen you somewhere before, but I
+can't place you. You want to get out o' town to-night; you're here for
+no man's good--you've got a 'graft.'"
+
+Mose struck him with the flat of his left hand, and, swift as a
+rattlesnake's stroke, covered him with his revolver. "Wait right where
+you are," he said, and the man became rigid. "I came here as peaceable
+as any man," Mose went on, "but I don't intend to be ridden out of town
+by a jackass like you."
+
+The other man remained calm. "If you'll kindly let me unbutton my coat,
+I'll show you my star; I'm the city marshal."
+
+"Be quiet," commanded Mose; "put up your hands!"
+
+Mose was aware of an outcry, then a silence, then a rush.
+
+From beneath his coat, quick as a flash of light from a mirror, he drew
+a second revolver. His eyes flashed around the room. For a moment all
+was silent, then a voice called, "What's all this, Haney?"
+
+"Keep them quiet," said Mose, still menacing the officer.
+
+"Boys, keep back," pleaded the marshal.
+
+"The man that starts this ball rolling will be sorry," said Mose,
+searching the crowd with sinister eyes. "If you're the marshal, order
+these men back to the other end of the room."
+
+"Boys, get back," commanded the marshal. With shuffling feet the crowd
+retreated. "Shut the door, somebody, and keep the crowd out."
+
+The doors were shut, and the room became as silent as a tomb.
+
+"Now," said Mose, "is it war or peace?"
+
+"Peace," said the marshal.
+
+"All right." Mose dropped the point of his revolver.
+
+The marshal breathed easier. "Stranger, you're a little the swiftest man
+I've met since harvest; would you mind telling me your name?"
+
+"Not a bit. My friends call me Mose Harding."
+
+"'Black Mose'!" exclaimed the marshal, and a mutter of low words and a
+laugh broke from the listening crowd. Haney reached out his hand. "I
+hope you won't lay it up against me." Mose shook his hand and the
+marshal went on: "To tell the honest truth, I thought you were one of
+Lightfoot's gang. I couldn't place you. Of course I see now--I have your
+picture at the office--the drinks are on me." He turned with a smile to
+the crowd: "Come, boys--irrigate and get done with it. It's a horse on
+me, sure."
+
+Taking the mildest liquor at the bar, Mose drank to further friendly
+relations, while the marshal continued to apologize. "You see, we've
+been overrun with 'rollers' and 'skin-game' men, and lately three
+expresses have been held up by Lightfoot's gang, and so I've been facing
+up every suspicious immigrant. I've had to do it--in your case I was too
+brash--I'll admit that--but come, let's get away from the mob. Come over
+to my office, I want to talk with you."
+
+Mose was glad to escape the curious eyes of the throng. While his life
+was in the balance, he saw and heard everything hostile, nothing
+more--now, he perceived the crowd to be disgustingly inquisitive. Their
+winks, and grins, and muttered words annoyed him.
+
+"Open the door--much obliged, Kelly," said the marshal to the man who
+kept the door. Kelly was a powerfully built man, dressed like a miner,
+in broad hat, loose gray shirt, and laced boots, and Mose admiringly
+studied him.
+
+"This is not 'Rocky Mountain Kelly'?" he asked.
+
+Kelly smiled. "The same; 'Old Man Kelly' they call me now."
+
+Mose put out his hand. "I'm glad to know ye. I've heard Tom Gavin speak
+of you."
+
+Kelly shook heartily. "Oh! do ye know Tom? He's a rare lump of a b'y, is
+Tom. We've seen great times together on the plains and on the hills.
+It's all gone now. It's tame as a garden since the buffalo went; they've
+made it another world, b'y."
+
+"Come along, Kelly, and we'll have it out at my office."
+
+As the three went out into the street they confronted a close-packed
+throng. The word had passed along that the marshal was being "done," and
+now, singularly silent, the miners waited the opening of the door.
+
+The marshal called from the doorstep: "It's all right. Don't block the
+street. Break away, boys, break away." The crowd opened to let them
+pass, fixing curious eyes upon Mose.
+
+As the three men crossed the street the woman in the carriage came
+driving slowly along. Kelly and the marshal saluted gallantly, but Mose
+did not even bow.
+
+She leaned from her carriage and called:
+
+"What's that I hear, marshal, about your getting shot?"
+
+"All a mistake, Madam. I thought I recognized this young man and was
+politely ordering him out of town when he pulled his gun and nailed me
+to the cross."
+
+The woman turned a smiling face toward Mose. "He must be a wonder.
+Introduce me, please."
+
+"Certain sure! This is Mrs. Raimon, Mose; 'Princess Raimon,' this is my
+friend, Mose Harding, otherwise known as 'Black Mose.'"
+
+"Black Mose!" she cried; "are _you_ that terrible man?"
+
+She reached out her little gloved hand, and as Mose took it her eyes
+searched his face. "I think we are going to be friends." Her voice was
+affectedly musical as she added: "Come and see me, won't you?"
+
+She did not wait for his reply, but drove on with a sudden assumption of
+reserve which became her very well.
+
+The three men walked on in silence. At last, with a curious look at
+Kelly, the marshal said, "Young man, you're in luck. Anything you want
+in town is yours now. How about it, Kelly?"
+
+"That's the thrue word of it."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Mose.
+
+"Just this--what the princess asks for she generally gets. She's taken a
+fancy to you, and if you're keen as I think you are, you'll call on her
+without much delay."
+
+"Who is she? How does she happen to be here?"
+
+"She came out here with her husband--and stays for love of men and
+mines, I reckon. Anyhow, she always has a man hangin' on, and has
+managed to secure some of the best mines in the camp. She works 'em,
+too. She's a pretty high roller, as they call 'em back in the States,
+but she helps the poor, and pays her debts like a man, and it's no call
+o' mine to pass judgment on her."
+
+The marshal's office was an old log shanty, one of the first to be built
+on the trail, and passing through the big front room in which two or
+three men were lounging, the marshal led his guests to his inner office
+and sleeping room. A fire was blazing in a big stone fireplace. Skins
+and dingy blankets were scattered about, and on the mantle stood a
+bottle and some dirty glasses.
+
+"Sit down, gentlemen," said the marshal, "and have some liquor."
+
+After they were served and cigars lighted, the marshal began:
+
+"Mose, I want you to serve as my deputy."
+
+Mose was taken by surprise and did not speak for a few moments. The
+marshal went on:
+
+"I don't know that you're after a job, but I'm sure I need you. There's
+no use hemming and hawing--I've made a cussed fool of myself this
+evenin', and the boys are just about going to drink up my salary for me
+this coming week. I can't afford _not_ to have you my deputy because you
+unlimbered your gun a grain of a second before me--beat me at my own
+trick. I need you--now what do you say?"
+
+Mose took time to reply. "I sure need a job for the winter," he
+admitted, "but I don't believe I want to do this."
+
+The marshal urged him to accept. "I'll call in the newspaper men and let
+them tell the whole story of your life, and of our little jamboree
+to-day--they'll fix up a yarn that'll paralyze the hold-up gang.
+Together we'll swoop down on the town. I've been planning a clean-out
+for some weeks, and I need you to help me turn 'em loose."
+
+Mose arose. "I guess not; I'm trying to keep clear of gun-play these
+days. I've never hunted that kind of thing, and I won't start in on a
+game that's sure to give me trouble."
+
+The marshal argued. "Set down; listen; that's the point exactly. The
+minute the boys know who you are we won't _need_ to shoot. That's the
+reason I want you--the reporters will prepare the way. Wherever we go
+the 'bad men' will scatter."
+
+But Mose was inexorable. "No, I can't do it. I took just such a job
+once--I don't want another."
+
+Haney was deeply disappointed, but shook hands pleasantly. "Well,
+good-night; drop in any time."
+
+Mose went out into the street once more. He was hungry, and so turned in
+at the principal hotel in the city for a "good square meal." An Italian
+playing the violin and his boy accompanying him on the harp, made up a
+little orchestra. Some palms in pots, six mirrors set between the
+windows, together with tall, very new, oak chairs gave the dining room a
+magnificence which abashed the bold heart of the trailer for a moment.
+
+However, his was not a nature to show timidity, and taking a seat he
+calmly spread his damp napkin on his knee and gave his order to the
+colored waiter (the Palace Hotel had the only two colored waiters in
+Wagon Wheel) with such grace as he could command after long years upon
+the trail.
+
+As he lifted his eyes he became aware of "the princess" seated at
+another table and facing him. She seemed older than when he saw her in
+the carriage. Her face was high-colored, and her hair a red-brown. Her
+eyes were half closed, and her mouth drooped at the corners. Her chin,
+supported on her left hand, glittering with jewels, was pushed forward
+aggressively, and she listened with indifference to the talk of her
+companion, a dark, smooth-featured man, with a bitter and menacing
+smile.
+
+Mose was oppressed by her glance. She seemed to be looking at him from
+the shadow as a tigress might glare from her den, and he ate awkwardly,
+and his food tasted dry and bitter. Ultimately he became angry. Why
+should this woman, or any woman, stare at him like that? He would have
+understood her better had she smiled at him--he was not without
+experience of that sort, but this unwavering glance puzzled and annoyed
+him.
+
+Putting her companion aside with a single gesture, the princess arose
+and came over to Mose's table and reached her hand to him. She smiled
+radiantly of a sudden, and said, "How do you do, Mr. Harding; I didn't
+recognize you at first."
+
+Mose took her hand but did not invite her to join him. However, she
+needed no invitation, and taking a seat opposite, leaned her elbows on
+the table and looked at him with eyes more inscrutable than
+ever--despite their nearness. They were a mottled yellow and brown, he
+noticed, unusual and interesting eyes, but by contrast with the clear
+deeps of Mary's eyes they seemed like those of some beautiful wild
+beast. He could not penetrate a thousandth part of a hair line beyond
+the exterior shine of her glance. The woman's soul was in the
+unfathomable shadow beneath.
+
+"I know all about you," she said. "I read a long article about you in
+the papers some months ago. You stood off a lot of bogus game wardens
+who were going to butcher some Shoshonees. I liked that. The article
+said you killed a couple of them. I hope you did."
+
+Mose was very short. "I don't think any of them died at my hands, but
+they deserved it, sure enough."
+
+She smiled again. "After seeing you on the street, I went home and
+looked up that slip--I saved it, you see. I've wanted to see you for a
+long time. You've had a wonderful life for one so young. This article
+raked up a whole lot of stuff about you--said you were the son of a
+preacher--is that so?"
+
+"Yes, that part of it was true."
+
+"Same old story, isn't it? I'm the daughter of a college
+professor--sectarian college at that." She smiled a moment, then became
+as suddenly grave. "I like men. I like men who face danger and think
+nothing of it. The article said you came West when a mere boy and got
+mixed up in some funny business on the plains and had to take a sneak to
+the mountains. What have you been doing since? I wish you'd tell me the
+whole story. Come to my house; it's just around the corner."
+
+As she talked, her voice became more subtly pleasing, and the lines of
+her mouth took on a touch of girlish grace.
+
+"I haven't time to do that," Mose said, "and besides, my story don't
+amount to much. You don't want to believe all they say of me. I've just
+knocked around a little like a thousand other fellows, that's all. I
+pull out to-night. I'm looking up an old friend down here on a ranch."
+
+She saw her mistake. "All right," she said, and smiled radiantly. "But
+come some other time, won't you?" She was so winning, so frank and
+kindly that Mose experienced a sudden revulsion of feeling. A powerful
+charm came from her superb physique, her radiant color, and from her
+beautiful, flexile lips and sound white teeth. He hesitated, and she
+pressed her advantage.
+
+"You needn't be afraid of me. The boys often drop in to see me of an
+evening. If I can be of any use to you, let me know. I'll tell you what
+you do. You take supper with me here to-morrow night. What say?"
+
+Mose looked across at the scowling face of the woman's companion and
+said hesitatingly:
+
+"Well, I'll see. If I have time--maybe I will."
+
+She smiled again and impulsively reached her hand to him, and as he took
+it he was nearly won by her friendliness. This she did not know, and he
+was able to go out into the street alone. He could not but observe that
+the attendants treated him with added respect by reason of his
+acquaintance with the wealthiest and most powerful woman in the camp.
+She had made his loneliness very keen and hard to bear.
+
+As he walked down the street he thought of Mary--she seemed to be a
+sister to the distant, calm and glorious moon just launching into the
+sky above the serrate wall of snowy peaks to the East. There was a
+powerful appeal in the vivid and changeful woman he had just met, for
+her like had never touched his life before.
+
+As he climbed back up the hill toward the corral where he had left his
+horse, he was filled with a wordless disgust of the town and its people.
+The night was still and cool, almost frosty. The air so clear and so
+rare filled his lungs with wholesomely sweet and reanimating breath. His
+head cleared, and his heart grew regular in its beating. The moon was
+sailing in mid-ocean, between the Great Divide and the Christo Range,
+cold and sharp of outline as a boat of silver. Lizard Head to the south
+loomed up ethereal as a cloud, so high it seemed to crash among the
+stars. The youth drew a deep breath and said: "To hell with the town."
+
+Kintuck whinnied caressingly as he heard his master's voice. After
+putting some grain before the horse, Mose rolled himself in his blanket
+and went to sleep with only a passing thought of the princess, her
+luxurious home, and her radiant and inscrutable personality.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+AGAIN ON THE ROUND-UP
+
+
+It was good to hear again the bawling of the bulls and the shouts of the
+cowboys, and to see the swirling herd and the flying, guarding, checking
+horsemen. Mose, wearied, weather-beaten, and somber-visaged, looked down
+upon the scene with musing eyes. The action was quite like that on the
+Arickaree; the setting alone was different. Here the valley was a wide,
+deliciously green bowl, with knobby hills, pine-covered and abrupt,
+rising on all sides. Farther back great snow-covered peaks rose to
+enormous heights. In the center of this superb basin the camps were
+pitched, and the roping and branding went on like the action of a
+prodigious drama. The sun, setting in orange-colored clouds, brought out
+the velvet green of the sward with marvelous radiance. The tents gleamed
+in the midst of the valley like flakes of pearl.
+
+The heart of the wanderer warmed within him, and with a feeling that he
+was almost home he called to his pack horse "Hy-ak-boy!" and started
+down the hill. As he drew near the herd he noted the great changes which
+had come over the cattle. They were now nearly all grades of Hereford or
+Holstein. They were larger of body, heavier of limb, and less active
+than the range cattle of the plains, but were sufficiently speedy to
+make handling them a fine art.
+
+As he drew near the camp a musical shout arose, and Reynolds spurred his
+horse out to meet him. "It's Mose!" he shouted. "Boy, I'm glad to see
+ye, I certainly am. Shake hearty. Where ye from?"
+
+"The Wind River."
+
+"What have you been doing up there?"
+
+"Oh, knocking around with some Shoshones on a hunting trip."
+
+"Well, by mighty, I certainly am glad to see ye. You look thin as a
+spring steer."
+
+"My looks don't deceive me then. My two sides are rubbin' together. How
+are the folks?"
+
+"They ah very well, thank you. Cora and Pink will certainly go plumb
+crazy when they see you a-comin'."
+
+"Where's your house?"
+
+"Just over that divide--but slip your packs off. Old Kintuck looks well;
+I knew him when you topped the hill."
+
+"Yes, he's still with me, and considerable of a horse yet."
+
+They drew up to the door of one of the main tents and slipped the
+saddles from the weary horses.
+
+"Do ye hobble?"
+
+"No--they stay with me," said Mose, slapping Kintuck. "Go on, boy,
+here's grass worth while for ye."
+
+"By mighty, Mose!" said Reynolds, looking at the trailer tenderly, "it
+certainly is good for sore eyes to see ye. I didn't know but you'd got
+mixed up an' done for in some of them squabbles. I heard the State
+authorities had gone out to round up that band of reds you was with."
+
+"We did have one brush with the sheriff and some game wardens, but I
+stood him off while my friends made tracks for the reservation. The
+sheriff was for fight, but I argued him out of it. It looked like hot
+weather for a while."
+
+While they were talking the cook set up a couple of precarious benches
+and laid a wide board thereon. Mose remarked it.
+
+"A table! Seems to me that's a little hifalutin'."
+
+"So it is, but times are changing."
+
+"I reckon the range on the Arickaree is about wiped out."
+
+"Yes. We had a couple of years with rain a-plenty, and that brought a
+boom in settlement; everything along the river was homesteaded, and so I
+retreated--the range was overstocked anyhow. This time I climbed high. I
+reckon I'm all right now while I live. They can't raise co'n in this
+high country, and not much of anything but grass. They won't bother us
+no mo'. It's a good cattle country, but a mighty tough range to ride, as
+you'll find. I thought I knew what rough riding was, but when it comes
+to racin' over these granite knobs, I'm jest a little too old. I'm
+getting heavy, too, you notice."
+
+"_Grub-pile! All down for grub!_" yelled the cook, and the boys came
+trooping in. They were all strangers, but not strange to Mose. They
+conformed to types he already knew. Some were young lads, and the word
+having passed around that "Black Mose" was in camp, they approached with
+awe. The man whose sinister fame had spread throughout three States was
+a very great personage to them.
+
+"Did you come by way of Wagon Wheel?" inquired a tall youth whom the
+others called "Brindle Bill."
+
+"Yes; camped there one night."
+
+"Ain't it a caution to yaller snakes? Must be nigh onto fifteen thousand
+people there now. The hills is plumb measly with prospect holes, and
+you can't look at a rock f'r less'n a thousand dollars. It shore is the
+craziest town that ever went anywhere."
+
+"Bill's got the fever," said another. "He just about wears hisself out
+a-pickin' up and a-totein' 'round likely lookin' rocks. Seems like he
+was lookin' fer gold mines 'stid o' cattle most of the time."
+
+"You're just in time for the turnament, Mose."
+
+"For the how-many?"
+
+"The turnament and bullfight. Joe Grassie has been gettin' up a
+bullfight and a kind of a show. He 'lows to bring up some regular
+fighters from Mexico and have a real, sure-'nough bullfight. Then he's
+offered a prize of fifty dollars for the best roper, and fifty dollars
+for the best shooter."
+
+"I didn't happen to hear of it, but I'm due to take that fifty; I need
+it," said Mose.
+
+"He 'lows to have some races--pony races and broncho busting."
+
+"When does it come off?" asked Mose with interest.
+
+"On the fourth."
+
+"I'll be there."
+
+After supper was over Reynolds said: "Are you too tired to ride over to
+the ranch?"
+
+"Oh, no! I'm all right now."
+
+"Well, I'll just naturally throw the saddles on a couple of bronchos and
+we'll go see the folks."
+
+Mose felt a warm glow around his heart as he trotted away beside
+Reynolds across the smooth sod. His affection for the Reynolds family
+was scarcely second to his boyish love for Mr. and Mrs. Burns.
+
+It was dark before they came in sight of the light in the narrow valley
+of the Mink. "There's the camp," said Reynolds. "No, I didn't build it;
+it's an old ranch; in fact, I bought the whole outfit."
+
+Mrs. Reynolds had not changed at all in the three years, but Cora had
+grown handsomer and seemed much less timid, though she blushed vividly
+as Mose shook her hand.
+
+"I'm glad to see you back," she said.
+
+Moved by an unusual emotion, Mose replied: "You haven't pined away any."
+
+"Pined!" exclaimed her mother. "Well, I should say not. You should see
+her when Jim Haynes----"
+
+"Mother!" called the girl sharply, and Pink, now a beautiful child of
+eight, came opportunely into the room and drew the conversation to
+herself.
+
+As Mose, with Pink at his knee, sat watching the two women moving about
+the table, a half-formed resolution arose in his brain. He was weary of
+wandering, weary of loneliness. This comfortable, homely room, this
+tender little form in his arms, made an appeal to him which was as
+powerful as it was unexpected. He had lived so long in his blanket, with
+only Kintuck for company, that at this moment it seemed as if these were
+the best things to do--to stay with Reynolds, to make Cora happy, and to
+rest. He had seen all phases of wild life and had carried out his plans
+to see the wonders of America. He had crossed the Painted Desert and
+camped beside the Colorado in the greatest canon in the world. He had
+watched the Mokis while they danced with live rattlesnakes held between
+their lips. He had explored the cliff-dwellings of the Navajo country
+and had looked upon the sea of peaks which tumbles away in measureless
+majesty from Uncompahgre's eagle-crested dome. He had peered into the
+boiling springs of the Yellowstone, and had lifted his eyes to the white
+Tetons whose feet are set in a mystic lake, around which the loons laugh
+all the summer long. He knew the chiefs of a dozen tribes and was a
+welcome guest among them. In his own mind he was no longer young--his
+youth was passing, perhaps the time had come to settle down.
+
+Cora turned suddenly from the table, where she stood arranging the
+plates and knives and forks with a pleasant bustle, and said:
+
+"O Mose! we've got two or three letters for you. We've had 'em ever so
+long--I don't suppose they will be of much good to you now. I'll get
+them for you."
+
+"They look old," he said as he took them from her hand. "They look as if
+they'd been through the war." The first was from his father, the second
+from Jack, and the third in a woman's hand--could only be Mary's. He
+stared at it--almost afraid to open it in the presence of the family. He
+read the one from his father first, because he conceived it less
+important, and because he feared the other.
+
+    "MY DEAR SON: I am writing to you through Jack, although he
+    does not feel sure we can reach you. I want to let you know
+    of the death of Mrs. Excell. She died very suddenly of acute
+    pneumonia. She was always careless of her footwear and went
+    out in the snow to hang out some linen without her rubber
+    shoes. We did everything that could be done but she only
+    lived six days after the exposure. Life is very hard for me
+    now. I write also to say that as I am now alone and in bad
+    health I shall accept a call to Sweetwater Springs, Colorado,
+    for two reasons. One is that my health may be regained, and
+    for the reason, also, my dear son, that I may be nearer
+    you. If this reaches you and you can come to see me I hope
+    you will do so.  I am lonely now and I long for you. The
+    parish is small and the pay meager, but that will not matter
+    if I can see you occasionally.  Maud and her little family
+    are well. I go to my new church in April.
+
+                                        "Your father,
+                                                  "SAMUEL EXCELL."
+
+For a moment this letter made Mose feel his father's loneliness, and had
+he not held in his hand two other and more important letters he would
+have replied with greater tenderness than ever before in his life.
+
+"Well, Mose, set up," said Mrs. Reynolds; "letters'll keep."
+
+He was distracted all through the meal in spite of the incessant
+questioning of his good friends. They were determined to uncover every
+act of his long years of wandering.
+
+"Yes," he said, "I've been hungry and cold, but I always looked after my
+horse, and so, when I struck a cow country I could whirl in and earn
+some money. It don't take much to keep me when I'm on the trail."
+
+"What's the good of seein' so much?" asked Mrs. Reynolds.
+
+He smiled a slow, musing smile. "Oh, I don't know. The more you see the
+more you want to see. Just now I feel like taking a little rest."
+
+Cora smiled at him. "I wish you would. You look like a starved cat--you
+ought'o let us feed you up for a while."
+
+"Spoil me for the trail," he said, but his eyes conveyed a message of
+gratitude for her sympathy, and she flushed again.
+
+After supper Mrs. Reynolds said: "Now if you want to read your letters
+by yourself, you can." She opened a door and he looked in.
+
+"A bed! I haven't slept in a bed for two years."
+
+"Well, it won't kill ye, not for one night, I reckon," she said.
+
+He looked around the little room, at the dainty lace curtains tied with
+little bows of ribbon, at the pictures and lambrequins, and it filled
+his heart with a sudden stress of longing. It made him remember the
+pretty parlor in which Mary had received him four years before, and he
+opened her letter with a tremor in his hands. It was dated the Christmas
+day of the year of his visit; it was more than three years belated, but
+he read it as if it were written the day before, and it moved him quite
+as powerfully.
+
+    "MY DEAR FRIEND: The impulse to write to you has grown
+    stronger day by day since you left. Your wonderful life and
+    your words appealed to my imagination with such power that I
+    have been unable to put them out of my mind. Without
+    intending to do so you have filled me with a great desire to
+    see the West which is able to make you forget your family and
+    friends and calls you on long journeys. I have sung for you
+    every Sunday as I promised to do. Your friend Jack called to
+    see me last night and we had a long talk about you.  He is to
+    write you also and gave me your probable address. You said
+    you were not a good writer but I wish you would let me know
+    where you are and what you are doing, for I feel a deep
+    interest in you, although I can not make myself believe that
+    you are not the Harold Excell I saw in Rock River. In reality
+    you are not he, any more than I am the little prig who sang
+    those songs to save your soul!  However, I was not so bad as
+    I seemed even then, for I wanted you to admire my voice.
+
+    "I hope this Christmas day finds you in a warm and sheltered
+    place.  It would be a great comfort to me if I could know you
+    were not cold and hungry. Jack brought me a beautiful
+    present--a set of George Eliot. I ought not to have accepted
+    it but he seemed so sure it would please me I had not the
+    heart to refuse. I would send something to you only I can't
+    feel sure of reaching you, and neither does Jack.
+
+    "It may be of interest to you to know that Mr. King the
+    pastor, in whose church I sang, has resigned his pastorate to
+    go abroad for a year. His successor is a man with a family--I
+    don't see how he will manage to live on the salary. Mr. King
+    had independent means and was a bachelor."
+
+Right there the youth stopped. Something told him that he had reached
+the heart of the woman's message. King had resigned to go abroad. Why?
+The tone of the letter was studiedly cold. Why? There were a few more
+lines to say that Jack was coming in to eat Christmas dinner with her
+and that she would sing If I Were a Voice. He was not super-subtle and
+yet something in this letter made his throat fill and his head a little
+_dizzy_. If it did not mean that she had broken with King, then truth
+could not be conveyed in lines of black ink.
+
+He tore open Jack's letter. It was short and to the point.
+
+    "DEAR HARRY: If you can get away come back to Marmion and see
+    Mary again. She wants to see you _bad_. I don't know what has
+    happened but I _think_ she has given King his walking
+    papers--and all on account of you. _I know it._ It can't be
+    anybody else. She talked of you the entire evening. O man!
+    but she was beautiful. She sang for me but her mind was away
+    in the mountains. I could see that. It was her interest in
+    you made her so nice to me. Now that's the God's truth. Come
+    back and get her.
+
+                                    "Yours in haste,
+                                              "JACK."
+
+Mose tingled with the sudden joy of it. Jack's letter, so unlike his
+usual calm, was convincing. He sprang up, a smile on his face, his eyes
+shining with happiness, his blood surging through his heart, and then he
+remembered the letters were three years old! The gray cloud settled down
+upon him--his limbs grew cold, and the light went out of his eyes.
+
+Three years! While he was camping in the Grand Canon with the lizards
+and skunks she was waiting to hear from him. While he sat in the shade
+of the walls of Walpi, surrounded by hungry dogs and pot-bellied
+children, she was singing for him and wondering whether her letter had
+ever reached him. Three years! A thousand things could happen in three
+years. She may have died!--a cold shudder touched him--she might tire of
+waiting and marry some one else--or she might have gone away to the
+East, that unknown and dangerous jungle of cities.
+
+He sprang up again. "I will go to see her!" he said to himself. Then he
+remembered. His horse was worn, he had no money and no suitable
+clothing. Then he thought: "I will write." It did not occur to him to
+telegraph, for he had never done such a thing in his life.
+
+He walked out into the sitting-room, his letters in his hands.
+
+"How far do you call it to Wagon Wheel?"
+
+"About thirty miles, and all up hill."
+
+"Will you loan me one of your bronchos?"
+
+"Certain sure, my boy."
+
+"I want to ride up there and send a couple of letters."
+
+"Better wait till morning," said Reynolds. "Your letters have waited
+three years--I reckon they'll keep over night."
+
+"That's so," said Mose with a smile.
+
+Sleep came to him swiftly, in spite of his letters, for he was very
+tired, but he found the room close and oppressive when he arose in the
+morning. The women were already preparing breakfast and Reynolds sat by
+the fire pulling on his boots.
+
+As they were walking out to the barn Reynolds plucked him by the sleeve
+and said:
+
+"I reckon I've lost my chance to kill Craig."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"A Mexican took the job off my hands." His face expressed a sort of
+gloomy dissatisfaction. Then without looking at Mose he went on: "That's
+one reason daughter looks so pert. She's free of that skunk's clutches
+now--and can hold up her head. She's free to marry a decent man."
+
+Mose was silent. Mary's letter had thrust itself between his lips and
+Cora's shapely head, and all thought of marriage with her was gone.
+
+As they galloped up to the camp the boys were at work finishing the last
+bunch of calves. The camp wagon was packed and ready to start across the
+divide, but the cook flourished a newspaper and came running up.
+
+"Here you are, posted like a circus."
+
+Mose took the paper, and on the front page read in big letters:
+
+                             BLACK MOSE!
+                         Mysterious as Ever.
+                      The Celebrated Dead Shot.
+             Visits Wagon Wheel, and Swiftly Disappears.
+
+"Damn 'em!" said Mose, "can't they let me alone? Seems like they can't
+rest till they crowd me into trouble."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+MOSE RETURNS TO WAGON WHEEL
+
+
+As Mose threw the rope over the bald-faced pinto the boys all chuckled
+and drew near, for they knew the character of the horse. Reynolds had
+said, "Take your pick o' the bunch," and Mose, with the eye of a
+horseman, had roped the pinto because of his size, depth of chest, and
+splendid limbs.
+
+As he was leading his captive out of the bunch the cook said to Mose,
+"Better not take that pinto; he's mean as a hornet."
+
+"Is his wind all right?"
+
+"He's one o' the best horses on the range, all right, but he shore is
+mean all the way through. He always pitches at the start like he was
+fair crazy."
+
+"Does he go when he gets through?" asked Mose of Reynolds.
+
+"Yes, he's a good traveler."
+
+"I don't want to be delayed, that's all. If he'll go, I'll stay by him."
+
+The boys nudged elbows while Mose threw the saddle on the cringing
+brute and cinched it till the pinto, full of suffering, drew great,
+quiet gulps of breath and groaned. Swift, practiced, relentless, Mose
+dragged at the latigo till the wide hair web embedded itself in the
+pony's hide. Having coiled the rope neatly out of the way, while the
+broncho stood with drooping head but with a dull red flame in his eyes,
+Mose flung the rein over the pony's head. Then pinto woke up. With a
+mighty sidewise bound he attempted to leave his rider, but Mose,
+studiedly imperturbable, with left hand holding the reins and right hand
+grasping the pommel, went with him as if that were the ordinary way of
+mounting. Immense power was in the stiff-legged leaping of the beast.
+His body seemed a ball of coiled steel springs. His "watch-eye" rolled
+in frenzy. It seemed he wished to beat his head against his rider's face
+and kill him. He rushed away with a rearing, jerking motion, in a series
+of jarring bounds, snapping his rider like the lash of a whip, then
+stopped suddenly, poised on his fore feet, with devilish intent to
+discharge Mose over his head. With the spurs set deep into the quivering
+painted hide of his mount Mose began plying the quirt like a flail. The
+boys cheered and yelled with delight. It was one of their chief
+recreations, this battle with a pitching broncho.
+
+Suddenly the desperate beast paused and, rearing recklessly high in the
+air, fell backward hoping to crush his rider under his saddle. In the
+instant, while he towered, poised in the air, Mose shook his right foot
+free of the stirrup and swung to the left and alighted on his feet,
+while the fallen horse, stunned by his own fall, lay for an instant,
+groaning and coughing. Under the sting of the quirt, he scrambled to his
+feet only to find his inexorable rider again on his back, with merciless
+spurs set deep in the quick of his quivering sides. With a despairing
+squeal he set off in a low, swift, sidewise gallop, and for nearly an
+hour drummed along the trail, up hill and down, the foam mingling with
+the yellow dust on his heaving flanks.
+
+When the broncho's hot anger had cooled, Mose gave him his head, and
+fell to thinking upon the future. He had been more than eight years in
+the range and on the trail and all he owned in the world was a saddle, a
+gun, a rope, and a horse. The sight of Cora, the caressing of little
+Pink, and Mary's letter had roused in him a longing for a wife and a
+shanty of his own.
+
+The grass was getting sere, there was new-fallen snow on Lizard Head,
+and winter was coming. He had the animal's instinct to den up, to seek
+winter quarters. Certain ties other than those of Mary's love combined
+to draw him back to Marmion for the winter. If he could only shake off
+his burdening notoriety and go back to see her--to ask her
+advice--perhaps she could aid him. But to _sneak_ back again--to crawl
+about in dark corners--that was impossible.
+
+He was no longer the frank and boyish lover of adventure. Life troubled
+him now, conduct was become less simple, actions each day less easily
+determined. These women now made him ponder. Cora, who was accustomed to
+the range and whose interests were his own in many ways, the princess,
+whose money and influence could get him something to do in Wagon Wheel,
+and Mary, whose very name made him shudder with remembered
+adoration--each one now made him think. Mary, of all the group, was most
+certainly unfitted to share his mode of life, and yet the thought of her
+made the others impossible to him.
+
+The marshal saw him ride up the street and throw himself from his horse
+before the post office and hastened toward him with his hand extended.
+"Hello! Mose, I've got a telegram for you from Sweetwater."
+
+Mose took it without a word and opened it. It was from his father: "Wait
+for me in Wagon Wheel. I am coming."
+
+The marshal was grinning. "Did you see the write-up in yesterday's
+Mother Lode?"
+
+"Yes--I saw it, and cussed you for it."
+
+"I knowd you would, but I couldn't help it. Billy, the editor, got hold
+of me and pumped the whole story out of me before I knew it. I don't
+think it does you any harm."
+
+"It didn't do me any good," replied Mose shortly.
+
+"Say, the princess wants to see you. She's on the street somewhere now,
+looking for you."
+
+"Where's the telegraph office?" he abruptly asked.
+
+The telegram from his father had put the idea into his head to
+communicate in that way with Mary and Jack.
+
+The marshal led the way to a stage office wherein stood a counter and a
+row of clicking machines.
+
+"What is the cost of a telegram to Marmion, Iowa?" asked Mose.
+
+"One dollar, ten words. Each ad----"
+
+Mose thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out all his money, a
+handful of small change. His face grew bitter, his last dollar was
+broken into bits.
+
+"Make it night rates for sixty," said the operator. "Be delivered
+to-morrow morning."
+
+"Go ahead," said Mose, and set to work to compose a message. The
+marshal, with unexpected delicacy, sauntered out into the street.
+
+Now that he was actually face to face with the problem of answering
+Mary's letter in ten words the youth's hand refused to write, and he
+stood looking at the yellow slip of paper with an intensity that was
+comical to the clerk. Plainly this cowboy was not accustomed to
+telegraphing.
+
+Mose felt the waiting presence of the clerk and said:
+
+"Can I set down here and think it over?"
+
+"Why sure, take a seat at that table over there."
+
+Under the pressure of his emotion Mose wrote "Dear Mary" and stopped.
+The chap at the other end of the line would read that and comment on it.
+He struck that out. Then it occurred to him that if he signed it "Harry"
+_this_ operator would marvel, and if he signed "Mose" the other end of
+the line would wonder. He rose, crushing the paper in his hand, and went
+out into the street. There was only one way--to write.
+
+This he did standing at the ink-bespattered shelf which served as
+writing desk in the post office.
+
+    "DEAR MARY: I have just received your letter. It's a little
+    late but perhaps it ain't too late. Anyhow, I'm banking on
+    this finding you just the same as when you wrote. I wish I
+    could visit you again but I'm afraid I couldn't do it a
+    second time without being recognized, but write to me at
+    once, and, if you say come, I'll come. I am poorer than I was
+    four years ago, but I've been on the trail, I know the
+    mountains now. There's no other place for me, but I get
+    lonesome sometimes when I think of you. I'm no good at
+    writing letters--can't write as well as I could when I was
+    twenty, so don't mind my short letter, but if I could see
+    you! Write at once and I'll borrow or steal enough money to
+    pay my way to you--I don't expect to ever see you out here in
+    the West."
+
+While still pondering over his letter he heard the rustle of a woman's
+dress and turned to face the princess, in magnificent attire, her gloved
+hand extended toward him, her face radiant with pleasure.
+
+"Why, my dear boy, where have you been?"
+
+Mose shook hands, his letter to Mary (still unsealed) in his left hand.
+"Been down on the range," he mumbled in profound embarrassment.
+
+She assumed a girlish part. "But you _promised_ to come and see me."
+
+He turned away to seal his letter and she studied him with admiring
+eyes. He was so interesting in his boyish confusion--graceful in spite
+of his irrelevant movements, for he was as supple, as properly poised,
+and as sinewy as a panther.
+
+"You're a great boy," she said to him when he came back. "I like you, I
+want to do something for you. Get into my carriage, and let me tell you
+of some plans."
+
+He looked down at his faded woolen shirt and lifted his hand to his
+greasy sombrero. "Oh, no! I can't do that."
+
+She laughed. "You ought to be able to stand it if I can. I'd be rather
+proud of having 'Black Mose' in my carriage."
+
+"I guess not," he said. There was a cadence in these three words to
+which she bowed her head. She surrendered her notion quickly.
+
+"Come down to the Palace with me."
+
+"All right, I'll do that," he replied without interest.
+
+"Meet me there in half an hour."
+
+"All right."
+
+"Good-by till then."
+
+He did not reply but took her extended hand, while the young fellow in
+the postal cage grinned with profound appreciation. After the princess
+went out this clerk said, "Pard, you've struck it rich."
+
+Mose turned and his eyebrows lowered dangerously. "Keep to your letter
+punchin', young feller, and you'll enjoy better health."
+
+Those who happened to be standing in the room held their breath, for in
+that menacing, steady glare they recognized battle.
+
+The clerk gasped and stammered, "I didn't mean anything."
+
+"That's all right. You're lately from the East, or you wouldn't get gay
+with strangers in this country. See if there is any mail for Mose
+Harding--or Harry Excell."
+
+"Sorry, sir--nothing for Mr. Harding, nothing for Mr. Excell."
+
+Mose turned back to the desk and scrawled a short letter to Jack Burns
+asking him to let him know at once where Mary was, and whether it would
+be safe for him to visit her.
+
+As he went out in the street to mount his horse the marshal met him
+again, and Mose, irritated and hungry, said sharply:
+
+"See here, pardner, you act most cussedly like a man keeping watch on
+me."
+
+The marshal hastened to say, "Nothing of the kind. I like you, that's
+all. I want to talk with you--in fact I'm under orders from the princess
+to help you get a job if you want one. I've got an offer now. The
+Express Company want you to act as guard between here and Canon City.
+Pay is one hundred dollars a month, ammunition furnished."
+
+Mose threw out his hand. "I'll do it--take it all back."
+
+The marshal shook hands without resentment, considering the apology
+ample, and together they sauntered down the street.
+
+"Now, pardner, let me tell you how I size up the princess. She's a
+good-hearted woman as ever lived, but she's a little off color with the
+women who run the church socials here. She's a rippin' good business
+woman, and her luck beats h--l. Why last week she bought a feller's
+claim in fer ten thousand dollars and yesterday they tapped a vein of
+eighty dollar ore, runnin' three feet wide. She don't haff to live
+here--she's worth a half million dollars--but she likes mining and she
+likes men. She knows how to handle 'em too--as you'll find out. She's
+hail-fellow with us all--but I tell ye she's got to like a feller all
+through before he sees the inside of her parlor. She's stuck on you.
+We're good friends--she come to call on my wife yesterday, and she
+talked about you pretty much the hull time. I never saw her worse bent
+up over a man. I believe she'd marry you, Mose, I do."
+
+"Takes two for a bargain of that kind," said Mose.
+
+The marshal turned. "But, my boy, that means making you a half owner of
+all she has--why that last mine may go to a million within six months."
+
+"That's all right," Mose replied, feeling the intended good will of the
+older man. "But I expect to find or earn my own money. I can't marry a
+woman fifteen years older'n I am for her money. It ain't right and it
+ain't decent, and you'll oblige me by shutting up all such talk."
+
+The sheriff humbly sighed. "She is a good deal older, that's a fact--but
+she's took care of herself. Still, as you say, it's none o' my business.
+If she can't persuade you, I can't. Come in, and I'll introduce you to
+the managers of the National----"
+
+"Can't now, I will later."
+
+"All right, so long! Come in any time."
+
+Mose stepped into a barber shop to brush up a little, for he had
+acquired a higher estimate of the princess, and when he entered the
+dining room of the Palace he made a handsome figure. Whatever he wore
+acquired distinction from his beauty. His hat, no matter how stained,
+possessed charm. His dark shirt displayed the splendid shape of his
+shoulders, and his cartridge belt slanted across his hip at just the
+right angle.
+
+The woman waiting for him smiled with an exultant glint in her
+half-concealed eyes.
+
+"Sit there," she commanded, pointing at a chair. "Two beers," she said
+to the waiter.
+
+Mose took the chair opposite and looked at her smilelessly. He waited
+for her to move.
+
+"Ever been East--Chicago, Washington?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Want to go?"
+
+"No."
+
+She smiled again. "Know anything about mining?"
+
+"Not a thing."
+
+She looked at him with a musing, admiring glance. "I've got a big cattle
+ranch--will you superintend it for me?"
+
+"Where is it?"
+
+She laughed and stammered a little. "Well--I mean I've been thinking of
+buying one. I'm kind o' tired of these mining towns; I believe I'd like
+to live on a ranch, with you to superintend it."
+
+His face darkened again, and she hastened to say, "The cattle business
+is going to boom again soon. They're all dropping out of it fast, but
+_now_ is the time to get in and buy."
+
+The beer came and interrupted her. "Here's to good luck," she said. They
+drank, and as she daintily touched her lips with her handkerchief she
+lifted her eyes to him again--strange eyes with lovely green and yellow
+and pink lights in them not unlike some semi-precious stones.
+
+"You don't like me," she said. "Why won't you let me help you?"
+
+"You want a square-toed answer?" he asked grimly, looking her steadily
+in the eyes.
+
+She paled a little. "Yes."
+
+"There is a girl in Iowa--I make it my business to work for her."
+
+Her eyes fell and her right hand slowly turned the mug around and
+around. When she looked up she seemed older and her eyes were sadder.
+"That need make no difference."
+
+"But it does," he said slowly. "It makes all the difference there is."
+
+She became suddenly very humble. "You misunderstand me--I mean, I'll
+help you both. How do you expect to live?"
+
+His eyes fell now. He flushed and shifted uneasily in his chair. "I
+don't know." Then he unbent a little in saying, "That's what's bothering
+me right now."
+
+She pursued her advantage. "If you marry you've got to quit all this
+trail business."
+
+"Dead sure thing! And that scares me too. I don't know how I'd stand
+being tied down to a stake."
+
+She laid a hand on his arm. "Now see here, Mose, you let me help you.
+You know all about cattle and the trail, you can shoot and throw a
+rope, but you're a babe at lots of other things. You've got to get to
+work at something, settle right down, and dig up some dust. Now isn't
+that so?"
+
+"I reckon that's the size of it."
+
+It was singular how friendly she now seemed in his eyes. There was
+something so frank and gentle in her voice (though her eyes remained
+sinister) that he began almost to trust her.
+
+"Well, now, I tell you what you can do. You take the job I got for you
+with the Express Company and I'll look around and corral something else
+for you."
+
+He could not refuse to take her hand upon this compact. Then she said
+with an attempt to be careless, "Have you a picture of this girl? I'd
+like to see how she looks."
+
+His face darkened again. "No," he said shortly, "I never had one of
+her."
+
+She recognized his unwillingness to say more.
+
+"Well, good-by, come and see me."
+
+He parted from her with a sense of having been unnecessarily harsh with
+a woman who wished to be his good friend.
+
+He was hungry and that made him think of his horse which he returned to
+at once. After watering and feeding his tired beast he turned in at a
+coffeehouse and bought a lunch--not being able to afford a meal.
+Everywhere he went men pointed a timid or admiring thumb at him. They
+were unobtrusive about it, but it annoyed him at the moment. His mind
+was too entirely filled with perplexities to welcome strangers'
+greetings. "I _must_ earn some money," was the thought which brought
+with it each time the offer of the Express Company. He determined each
+time to take it although it involved riding the same trail over and over
+again, which made him shudder to think of. But it was three times the
+pay of a cowboy and a single month of it would enable him to make his
+trip to the East.
+
+After his luncheon he turned in at the office and sullenly accepted the
+job. "You're just the man we need," said the manager. "We've had two or
+three hold-ups here, but with you on the seat I shall feel entirely at
+ease. Marshal Haney has recommended you--and I know your record as a
+daring man. Can you go out to-morrow morning?"
+
+"Quicker the better."
+
+"I'd like to have you sleep here in the office. I'll see that you have a
+good bed."
+
+"Anywhere."
+
+After Mose went out the manager winked at the marshal and said:
+
+"It's a good thing to have him retained on our side. He'd make a bad man
+on the hold-up side."
+
+"Sure thing!" replied Haney.
+
+While loitering on a street corner still busy with his problems Mose saw
+a tall man on a fine black horse coming down the street. The rider
+slouched in his saddle like a tired man but with the grace of a true
+horseman. On his bushy head sat a wide soft hat creased in the middle.
+His suit was brown corduroy.
+
+Mose thought, "If that bushy head was not so white I should say it was
+father's. It _is_ father!"
+
+He let him pass, staring in astonishment at the transformation in the
+minister. "Well, well! the old man has woke up. He looks the real thing,
+sure."
+
+A drum struck up suddenly and the broncho (never too tired to shy) gave
+a frenzied leap. The rider went with him, reins in hand, heels set well
+in, knees grasping the saddle.
+
+Mose smiled with genuine pleasure. "I didn't know he could ride like
+that," and he turned to follow with a genuine interest.
+
+He came up to Mr. Excell just as the marshal stepped out of the crowd
+and accosted him. For the first time in his life Mose was moved to joke
+his father.
+
+"Marshal, that man is a dangerous character. I know him; put him out."
+
+The father turned and a smile lit his darkly tanned face. "Harry----"
+
+Mose made a swift sign, "Old man, how are ye?" The minister's manner
+pleased his son. He grasped his father's hand with a heartiness that
+checked speech for the moment, then he said, "I was looking for you.
+Where you from?"
+
+"I've got a summer camp between here and the Springs. I saw the notice
+of you in yesterday's paper. I've been watching the newspapers for a
+long time, hoping to get some word of you. I seized the first chance and
+came on."
+
+Mose turned. "Marshal, I'll vouch for this man; he's an old neighbor of
+mine."
+
+Mr. Excell slipped to the ground and Mose took the rein on his arm.
+"Come, let's put the horse with mine." They walked away, elbow to elbow.
+A wonderful change had swept over Mr. Excell. He was brown, alert, and
+vigorous--but more than all, his eyes were keen and cheerful and his
+smile ready and manly.
+
+"You're looking well," said the son.
+
+"I _am well_. Since I struck the high altitudes I'm a new man. I don't
+wonder you love this life."
+
+"Are you preaching?"
+
+"Yes, I speak once a week in the Springs. I ride down the trail from my
+cabin and back again the same day. The fact is I stayed in Rock River
+till I was nearly broken. I lost my health, and became morbid, trying to
+preach to the needs of the old men and women of my congregation. Now I
+am free. I am back to the wild country. Of course, so long as my wife
+lived I couldn't break away, but now I have no one but myself and my
+needs are small. I am happier than I have been for years."
+
+As they walked and talked together the two men approached an
+understanding. Mr. Excell felt sure of his son's interest, for the first
+time in many years, and avoided all terms of affection. In his return to
+the more primitive, bolder life he unconsciously left behind him all the
+"soft phrases" which had disgusted his son. He struck the right note
+almost without knowing it, and the son, precisely as he perceived in his
+father a return to rugged manliness, opened his hand to him.
+
+Together they took care of the horse, together they walked the streets.
+They sat at supper together and the father's joy was very great when at
+night they camped together and Mose so far unbent as to tell of his
+adventures. He did not confide his feeling for Mary--his love was far
+too deep for that. A strange woman had reached it by craft, a father's
+affection failed of it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE EAGLE GUARDS THE SHEEP
+
+
+Mose did not enter upon his duties as guard with joy. It seemed like
+small business and not exactly creditable employment for a trailer and
+cow puncher. It was in his judgment a foolish expenditure of money; but
+as there was nothing better to do and his need of funds was imperative,
+he accepted it.
+
+The papers made a great deal of it, complimenting the company upon its
+shrewdness, and freely predicted that no more hold-ups would take place
+along that route. Mose rode out of town on the seat with the driver, a
+Winchester between his knees and a belt of cartridges for both rifle and
+revolvers showing beneath his coat. He left the stable each morning at
+four A. M. and rode to the halfway house, where he slept over night,
+returning the following day. From the halfway house to the Springs there
+were settlers and less danger.
+
+He was conscious of being an object of curious inquiry. Meeting stage
+coaches was equivalent to being fired at by fifty pistols. Low words
+echoed from lip to lip: "Black Mose," "bad man," "graveyard of his own,"
+"good fellow when sober," etc. Sometimes, irritated and reckless, he
+lived up to his sinister reputation, and when some Eastern gentleman in
+brown corduroy timidly approached to say, "Fine weather," Mose turned
+upon him a baleful glare under which the questioner shriveled, to the
+delight of the driver, who vastly admired the new guard.
+
+At times he was unnecessarily savage. Well-meaning men who knew nothing
+about him, except that he was a guard, were rebuffed in quite the same
+way. He was indeed becoming self-conscious, as if on exhibition,
+somehow--and this feeling deepened as the days passed, for nothing
+happened. No lurking forms showed in the shadow of the pines. No voice
+called "Halt!" It became more and more like a stage play.
+
+He was much disturbed by Jack's letter which was waiting for him one
+night when he returned to Wagon Wheel.
+
+    "DEAR HARRY: I went up to see Mary a few weeks ago and found
+    she had gone to Chicago. Her father died over a year ago and
+    she decided soon after to go to the city and go on with her
+    music.  She's in some conservatory there. I don't know which
+    one. I tried hard to keep her on my own account but she
+    wouldn't listen to me.  Well, yes, she listened but she shook
+    her head. She dropped King soon after your visit--whether you
+    had anything to do with that or not I don't know--I think you
+    did, but as you didn't write she gave you up as a bad
+    job. She always used to talk of you and wonder where you
+    were, and every time I called she used to sing If I Were a
+    Voice. She never _said_ she was singing it for you, but there
+    were tears in her eyes--and in mine, too, old man. You
+    oughtn't to be throwing yourself away in that wild,
+    God-forsaken country. We discussed you most of the time. Once
+    in a while she'd see a little note in the paper about you,
+    and cut it out and send it to me. I did the same. We heard of
+    you at Flagstaff, Arizona. Then that row you had with the
+    Mormons was the next we knew, but we couldn't write. She said
+    it was pretty tough to hear of you only in some scrape, but I
+    told her your side hadn't been heard from and that gave her a
+    lot of comfort. The set-to you had about the Indians' right
+    to hunt pleased us both. That was a straight case. She said
+    it was like a knight of the olden time.
+
+    "She was uneasy about you, and once she said, 'I wish I could
+    reach him. That rough life terrifies me. He's in constant
+    danger.' I think she was afraid you'd take to drinking, and I
+    own up, old man, that worries _me_. If you only had somebody
+    to look after you--somebody to work for--like I have. I'm
+    going to be married in September. You know her--only she was
+    a little girl when you lived here. Her name is Lily
+    Blanchard.
+
+    "I wish I could help you about Mary. I'm going to write to
+    one or two parties who may know her address. If she's in
+    Chicago you could visit her without any trouble. They
+    wouldn't get on to you there at all. If you go, be sure and
+    come this way. Your father went to Denver from here--have you
+    heard from him?"
+
+There was deep commotion in the trailer's brain that night. The hope he
+had was too sacredly sweet to put into words--the hope that she still
+thought of him and longed for him. If Jack were right, then she had
+waited and watched for him through all those years of wandering, while
+he, bitter and unrelenting, and believing that she was King's wife, had
+refused to listen for her voice on Sunday evenings. If she had kept her
+promise, then on the trail, in canons dark and deathly still, on the
+moonlit sand of the Painted Desert, on the high divides of the Needle
+Range, her thought had been winged toward him in song--and he had not
+listened.
+
+His thought turned now, for the first time, toward the great city, which
+was to him a savage jungle of unknown things, a web of wire, a maze of
+streets, a swirling flood of human beings, of interest now merely and
+solely because Mary had gone to live therein. "I'm due to make another
+trip East," he said to himself with a grim straightening of the lips.
+
+It was mighty serious business. To take Kintuck and hit the trail for
+the Kalispels over a thousand miles of mountain and plain, was simple,
+but to thrust himself amid the mad rush of a great city made his bold
+heart quail. Money was a minor consideration in the hills, but in the
+city it was a matter of life and death. Money he must now have, and as
+he could not borrow or steal it, it must be earned. In a month his wages
+would amount to one hundred dollars, but that was too slow. He saw no
+other way, however, so set his teeth and prepared to go on with the
+"fool business" of guarding the treasure wagon of the Express Company.
+
+His mind reverted often to the cowboy tournament which was about to come
+off, after hanging fire for a month, during which Grassi wrestled with
+the problem of how to hold a bullfight in opposition to the laws of the
+State. "If I could whirl in and catch one of those purses," thought
+Mose, "I could leave at the end of August. If I don't I must hang on
+till the first of October."
+
+He determined to enter for the roping contest and for the cowboy race
+and the revolver practice. Marshal Haney was delighted. "I'll attend to
+the business, but the entrance fees will be about twenty dollars."
+
+This staggered Mose. It meant an expenditure of nearly one fourth his
+month's pay in entrance fees, not to speak of the expense of keeping
+Kintuck, for the old horse had to go into training and be grain-fed as
+well. However, he was too confident of winning to hesitate. He drew on
+his wages, and took a day off to fetch Kintuck, whom he found fat and
+hearty and very dirty.
+
+The boys at the Reynolds ranch were willing to bet on Mose, and every
+soul determined to be there. Cora said quietly: "I know you'll win."
+
+"Well, I don't expect to sweep the board, but I'll get a lunch while the
+rest are getting a full meal," he replied, and returned to his duties.
+
+The weather did not change for the tournament. Each morning the sun
+arose flashing with white, undimmed fire. At ten o'clock great dazzling
+white clouds developed from hidden places behind huge peaks, and as they
+expanded each let fall a veil of shimmering white storms that were hail
+on the heights and sleet on the paths in the valleys. These clouds
+passed swiftly, the sun came out, the dandelions shone vividly through
+their coverlet of snow, the eaves dripped, the air was like March, and
+the sunsets like November.
+
+Naturally, Sunday was the day fixed upon for the tournament, and early
+on that day miners in clean check shirts and bright new blue overalls
+began to stream away up the road which led to the race track, some two
+miles away, on the only level ground for a hundred miles. Swift horses
+hitched to light open buggies whirled along, loaded down with men.
+Horsemen galloped down the slopes in squadrons--and such
+horsemen!--cowboys from "Lost Park" and "the Animas." Prospectors like
+Casey and Kelly who were quite as much at home on a horse as with a pick
+in a ditch, and men like Marshal Haney and Grassi, who were all-round
+plainsmen, and by that same token born horsemen. Haney and Kelly rode
+with Reynolds and Mose, while Cora and Mrs. Reynolds followed in a rusty
+buggy drawn by a fleabitten gray cow pony, sedate with age.
+
+Kintuck was as alert as a four-year-old. His rest had filled him to
+bursting with ambition to do and to serve. His muscles played under his
+shining skin like those of a trained athlete. Obedient to the lightest
+touch or word of his master, with ears in restless motion, he curvetted
+like a racer under the wire.
+
+"Wouldn't know that horse was twelve years old, would you, gentlemen?"
+said Reynolds. "Well, so he is, and he has covered fifteen thousand
+miles o' trail."
+
+Mose was at his best. With vivid tie flowing from the collar of his blue
+shirt, with a new hat properly crushed in on the crown in four places,
+with shining revolver at his hip, and his rope coiled at his right knee,
+he sat his splendid horse, haughty and impassive of countenance,
+responding to the greetings of the crowd only with a slight nod or a
+wave of the hand.
+
+It seemed to him that the population of the whole State--at least its
+men--was assembled within the big stockade. There were a few women--just
+enough to add decorum to the crowd. They were for the most part the
+wives or sisters or sweethearts of those who were to contest for prizes,
+but as Mose rode around the course he passed "the princess" sitting in
+her shining barouche and waving a handkerchief. He pretended not to see
+her, though it gave him pleasure to think that the most
+brilliantly-dressed woman on the grounds took such interest in him.
+Another man would have ridden up to her carriage, but Mose kept on
+steadily to the judge's stand, where he found a group of cowboys
+discussing the programme with Haney, the marshal of the day.
+
+Mose already knew his dangerous rival--a powerful and handsome fellow
+called Denver Dan, whose face was not unlike his own. His nose was
+straight and strong, his chin finely modeled, and his head graceful, but
+he was heavier, and a persistent flush on his nose and in his eyelids
+betrayed the effects of liquor. His hands were small and graceful and he
+wore his hat with a certain attractive insolence, but his mouth was
+cruel and his eyes menacing. When in liquor he was known to be
+ferocious. He was mounted on a superbly pointed grade broncho, and all
+his hangings were of costly Mexican workmanship and betrayed use.
+
+"The first thing is a 'packing contest,'" read Haney.
+
+"Oh, to h----l with that, I'm no packer," growled Dan.
+
+"I try that," said Mose; "I let nothing get away to-day."
+
+"Entrance fee one dollar."
+
+"Here you are." Mose tossed a dollar.
+
+"Then 'roping and holding contest.'"
+
+"Now you're talking my business," exclaimed Dan.
+
+"There are others," said Mose.
+
+Dan turned a contemptuous look on the speaker--but changed his
+expression as he met Mose's eyes.
+
+"Howdy, Mose?"
+
+"So's to sit a horse," Mose replied in a tone which cut. He was not used
+to being patronized by men of Dan's set.
+
+The crowd perceived the growing rivalry between the two men and winked
+joyously at each other.
+
+At last all was arranged. The spectators were assembled on the rude
+seats. The wind, sweet, clear, and cool, came over the smooth grassy
+slopes to the west, while to the east, gorgeous as sunlit marble, rose
+the great snowy peaks with huge cumulus clouds--apparently standing on
+edge--peeping over their shoulders from behind. Mose observed them and
+mentally calculated that it would not shower till three in the
+afternoon.
+
+In the track before the judge's stand six piles of "truck," each pile
+precisely like the others, lay in a row. Each consisted of a sack of
+flour, a bundle of bacon, a bag of beans, a box, a camp stove, a pick, a
+shovel, and a tent. These were to be packed, covered with a mantle, and
+caught by "the diamond hitch."
+
+Mose laid aside hat and coat, and as the six pack horses approached,
+seized the one intended for him. Catching the saddle blanket up by the
+corners, he shook it straight, folded it once, twice--and threw it to
+the horse. The sawbuck followed it, the cinch flying high so that it
+should go clear. A tug, a grunt from the horse, and the saddle was on.
+Unwinding the sling ropes, he made his loops, and end-packed the box.
+Against it he put both flour and beans. Folding the tent square he laid
+it between. On this he set the stove, and packing the smaller bags
+around it, threw on the mantle. As he laid the hitch and began to go
+around the pack, the crowd began to cheer:
+
+"Go it, Mose!"
+
+"He's been there before."
+
+"Well, I guess," said another.
+
+Mose set his foot to the pack and "pinched" the hitch in front. Nothing
+remained now but the pick, shovel, and coffee can. The tools he crowded
+under the ropes on either side, tied the cans under the pack at the back
+and called Kintuck, "Come on, boy." The old horse with shining eyes drew
+near. Catching his mane, Mose swung to the saddle, Kintuck nipped the
+laden cayuse, and they were off while the next best man was still
+worrying over the hitch.
+
+"Nine dollars to the good on that transaction," muttered Mose, as the
+marshal handed him a ten dollar gold piece.
+
+"The next exercise on the programme," announced Haney, "will be the
+roping contest. The crowd will please be as quiet as possible while this
+is going on. Bring on your cows."
+
+Down the track in a cloud of dust came a bunch of cattle of all shapes
+and sizes. They came snuffing and bawling, urged on by a band of
+cowboys, while a cordon of older men down the track stopped and held
+them before the judge's stand.
+
+"First exercise--'rope and hold,'" called the marshal. "Denver Dan comes
+first."
+
+Dan spurred into the arena, his rope swinging gracefully in his supple
+up-raised wrist.
+
+"Which one you want?" he asked.
+
+"The line-back yearling," called Haney.
+
+With careless cast Dan picked up both hind feet of the calf--his horse
+set his hoofs and held the bawling brute.
+
+"All right," called the judge. The rope was slackened and the calf
+leaped up. Dan then successively picked up any foot designated by the
+marshal. "Left hind foot! Right fore foot!" and so on with almost
+unerring accuracy. His horse, calm and swift, obeyed every word and
+every shift of his rider's body. The crowd cheered, and those who came
+after added nothing to the contest.
+
+Mose rode into the inclosure with impassive face. He could only
+duplicate the deeds of those who had gone before so long as his work was
+governed by the marshal--but when, as in the case of others, he was free
+to "put on frills," he did so. Tackling the heaviest and wildest steer,
+he dropped his rope over one horn and caught up one foot, then taking a
+loose turn about his pommel he spoke to Kintuck. The steer reached the
+end of the rope with terrible force. It seemed as if the saddle must
+give way--but the strain was cunningly met, and the brute tumbled and
+laid flat with a wild bawl. While Kintuck held him Mose took a cigar
+from his pocket, bit the end off, struck a match and puffed carelessly
+and lazily. It was an old trick, but well done, and the spectators
+cheered heartily.
+
+After a few casts of almost equal brilliancy, Mose leaped to the ground
+with the rope in his hand, and while Kintuck looked on curiously, he
+began a series of movements which one of Delmar's Mexicans had taught
+him. With the noose spread wide he kept it whirling in the air as if it
+were a hoop. He threw it into the air and sprang through it, he lowered
+it to the ground, and leaping into it, flung it far above his head. In
+his hand this inert thing developed snakelike action. It took on loops
+and scallops and retained them, apparently in defiance of all known laws
+of physics--controlled and governed by the easy, almost imperceptible
+motions of his steel-like wrist.
+
+"Forty-five dollars more to the good," said Mose grimly as the decision
+came in his favor.
+
+"See here--going to take all the prizes?" asked one of the judges.
+
+"So long as you keep to my line of business," replied he.
+
+The races came next. Kintuck took first money on the straightaway dash,
+but lost on the long race around the pole. It nearly broke his heart,
+but he came in second to Denver Dan's sorrel twice in succession.
+
+Mose patted the old horse and said: "Never mind, old boy, you pulled in
+forty dollars more for me."
+
+Reynolds had tears in his eyes as he came up.
+
+"The old hoss cain't compete on the long stretches. He's like a
+middle-aged man--all right for a short dash--but the youngsters have the
+best wind--they get him on the mile course."
+
+In the trained pony contest the old horse redeemed himself. He knelt at
+command, laid out flat while Mose crouched behind, and at the word "Up!"
+sprang to his feet and waited--then with his master clinging to his
+mane he ran in a circle or turned to right or left at signal. All the
+tricks which the cavalry had taught their horses, Mose, in years on the
+trail, had taught Kintuck. He galloped on three legs and waltzed like a
+circus horse. He seemed to know exactly what his master said to him.
+
+A man with a big red beard came up to Mose as he rode off the track and
+said:
+
+"What'll you take for that horse?"
+
+Mose gave him a savage glance. "He ain't for sale."
+
+The broncho-busting contest Mose declined.
+
+"How's that?" inquired Haney, who hated to see his favorite "gig back"
+at a point where his courage could be tested.
+
+"I've busted all the bronchos for fun I'm going to," Mose replied.
+
+Dan called in a sneering tone: "Bring on your varmints. I'm not dodgin'
+mean cayuses to-day."
+
+Mose could not explain that for Mary's sake he was avoiding all danger.
+There was risk in the contest and he knew it, and he couldn't afford to
+take it.
+
+"That's all right!" he sullenly replied. "I'll be with you later in the
+game."
+
+A wall-eyed roan pony, looking dull and stupid, was led before the
+stand. Saddled and bridled he stood dozing while the crowd hooted with
+derision.
+
+"Don't make no mistake!" shouted Haney; "he's the meanest critter on the
+upper fork."
+
+A young lad named Jimmy Kincaid first tackled the job, and as he ran
+alongside and tried the cinch, the roan dropped an ear back--the ear
+toward Jimmy, and the knowing ones giggled with glee. "He's wakin'up!
+Look out, Jim!"
+
+The lad gathered the reins in his left hand, seized the pommel with his
+right, and then the roan disclosed his true nature. He was an old rebel.
+He did not waste his energies on common means. He plunged at once into
+the most complicated, furious, and effective bucking he could devise,
+almost without moving out of his tracks--and when the boy, stunned and
+bleeding at the nose, sprawled in the dust, the roan moved away a few
+steps and dozed, panting and tense, apparently neither angry nor
+frightened.
+
+One of the Reynolds gang tried him next and "stayed with him" till he
+threw himself. When he arose the rider failed to secure his stirrups and
+was thrown after having sat the beast superbly. The miners were warming
+to the old roan. Many of them had never seen a pitching broncho before,
+and their delight led to loud whoops and jovial outcries.
+
+"Bully boy, roan! Shake 'em off!"
+
+Denver Dan tried him next and sat him, haughtily contemptuous, till he
+stopped, quivering with fatigue and reeking with sweat.
+
+"Oh, well!" yelled a big miner, "that ain't a fair shake for the pony;
+you should have took him when he was fresh." And the crowd sustained him
+in it.
+
+"Here comes one that is fresh," called the marshal, and into the arena
+came a wicked-eyed, superbly-fashioned black roan horse, plainly wild
+and unbroken, led by two cowboys, one on either side.
+
+Joe Grassi shook a handfull of bills down at the crowd. "Here's a
+hundred dollars to the man who'll set that pony three minutes by the
+watch."
+
+"This is no place to tackle such a brute as that," said Reynolds.
+
+Mose was looking straight ahead with a musing look in his eyes.
+
+Denver Dan walked out. "I need that hundred dollars; nail it to a post
+for a few minutes, will ye?"
+
+This was no tricky old cow pony, but a natively vicious, powerful, and
+cunning young horse. While the cowboys held him Dan threw off his coat
+and hat and bound a bandanna over the bronchos's head and pulled it down
+over his eyes. Laying the saddle on swiftly, but gently, he cinched it
+strongly. With determined and vigorous movement, he thrust the bit into
+his mouth.
+
+"Slack away!" he called to the ropers. The horse, nearly dead for lack
+of breath, drew a deep sigh.
+
+Haney called out: "Stand clear, everybody, clear the road!"
+
+And casting one rope to the ground, Dan swung into the saddle.
+
+For just an instant the horse crouched low and waited--then shot into
+the air with a tigerish bound and fell stiff-legged. Again and again he
+flung his head down, humped his back, and sprang into the air grunting
+and squealing with rage and fear. Dan sat him, but the punishment made
+him swear. Suddenly the horse dropped and rolled, hoping to catch his
+rider unawares. Dan escaped by stepping to the ground, but he was white,
+and the blood was oozing slowly from his nose. As the brute arose, Dan
+was in the saddle. With two or three tremendous bounds, the horse flung
+himself into the air like a high-vaulting acrobat, landing so near the
+fence that Dan, swerving far to the left, was unseated, and sprawled low
+in the dust while the squealing broncho went down the track bucking and
+lashing out with undiminished vigor.
+
+Dan staggered to his feet, stunned and bleeding. He swore most terrible
+oaths that he would ride that wall-eyed brute if it took a year.
+
+"You've had your turn. It was a fair fight," called Kelly.
+
+"Who's the next ambitious man?" shouted Haney.
+
+"I don't want no truck with that," said the cowboys among themselves.
+
+"Not in a place like this," said Jimmy. "A feller's liable to get mashed
+agin a fence."
+
+Mose stood with hands gripping a post, his eyes thoughtful. Suddenly he
+threw off his coat.
+
+"I'll try him," he said.
+
+"Oh, I don't think you'd better; it'll bung you all up," cautioned
+Reynolds.
+
+Mose said in a low voice: "I'm good for him, and I need that money."
+
+"Let him breathe awhile," called the crowd as the broncho was brought
+back, lariated as before. "Give him a show for his life."
+
+Mose muttered to Reynolds: "He's due to bolt, and I'm going to quirt him
+a-plenty."
+
+The spectators, tense with joy, filled the air with advice and warning.
+"Don't let him get started. Keep him away from the fence."
+
+Mose wore a set and serious look as he approached the frenzied beast.
+There was danger in this trick--a broken leg or collar bone might make
+his foolhardiness costly. In his mind's eye he could foresee the
+broncho's action. He had escaped down the track once, and would do the
+same again after a few desperate bounds--nevertheless Mose dreaded the
+terrible concussion of those stiff-legged leapings.
+
+Standing beside the animal's shoulder he slipped off the ropes and swung
+to the saddle. The beast went off as before, with three or four terrible
+buck jumps, but Mose plied the quirt with wild shouting, and suddenly,
+abandoning his pitching, the horse set off at a tearing pace around the
+track. For nearly half way he ran steadily--then began once more to hump
+his back and leap into the air.
+
+"He's down!" yelled some one.
+
+"No, he's up again--and Mose is there," said Haney.
+
+The crowd, not to be cheated of their fun, raced across the oval where
+the battle was still going on.
+
+The princess was white with anxiety and ordered her coachman to "Get
+there quick as God'll let ye." When she came in sight the horse was
+tearing at Mose's foot with his teeth.
+
+"Time's up!" called Haney.
+
+"Make it ten," said Mose, whose blood was hot.
+
+The beast dropped and rolled, but arose again under the sting of the
+quirt and renewed his frenzied attack. As Mose roweled him he kicked
+with both hind feet as if to tear the cinch from his belly. He reared on
+his toes and fell backward. He rushed with ferocious cunning against the
+corral, forcing his rider to stand in the opposite stirrup, then bucked,
+keeping so close to the fence that Mose was forced to hang to his mane
+and fight him from tearing his flesh with his savage teeth. Twice he
+went down and rolled over, but when he arose Mose was on his back. Twice
+he flung himself to the earth, and the second time he broke the bridle
+rein, but Mose, catching one piece, kept his head up while he roweled
+him till the blood dripped in the dust.
+
+At last, after fifteen minutes of struggle, the broncho again made off
+around the track at a rapid run. As he came opposite the judge's stand
+Mose swung him around in a circle and leaped to the ground, leaving the
+horse to gallop down the track. Dusty, and quivering with fatigue, Mose
+walked across the track and took up his coat.
+
+"You earned your money, Mose," said Grassi, as he handed out the roll of
+bills.
+
+"I'll think so to-morrow morning, I reckon," replied Mose, and his walk
+showed dizziness and weakness.
+
+"You've had the easy end of it," said Dan. "You should have took him
+when I did, when he was fresh."
+
+"You didn't stay on him long enough to weaken him any," said Mose in
+offensive reply, and Dan did not care to push the controversy any
+further.
+
+"That spoils my shooting now," Mose said to Haney. "I couldn't hit the
+side of a mule."
+
+"Oh, you'll stiddy up after dinner."
+
+"Good boy!" called the crisp voice of Mrs. Raimon. "Come here, I want to
+talk with you."
+
+He could not decently refuse to go to the side of her carriage. She had
+with her a plain woman, slightly younger than herself, who passed for
+her niece. The two men who came with them were in the judge's stand.
+
+Leaning over, she spoke with sudden intensity. "My God! you mustn't take
+such risks--I'm all of a quiver. You're too good a man to be killed by a
+miserable bucking broncho. Don't do it again, for my sake--if that don't
+count, for _her_ sake."
+
+And he in sudden joy and confidence replied: "That's just why I did it;
+for her sake."
+
+Her eyes set in sudden alarm. "What do you mean?"
+
+"You'll know in a day or two. I'm going to quit my job."
+
+"I know," she said with a quick indrawn breath, "you're going away.
+Who's that girl I saw you talking with to-day? Is that the one?"
+
+He laughed at her for the first time. "Not by a thousand miles."
+
+"What do you mean by that? Does she live in Chicago?"
+
+He ceased to laugh and grew a little darker of brow, and she quietly
+added: "That's none o' my business, you'd like to say. All right--say it
+isn't. But won't you get in and go down to dinner with me? I want to
+honor the champion--the Ivanhoe of the tournament."
+
+He shook his head. "No, I've promised to picnic with some old friends of
+mine."
+
+"That girl over there?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, just as you say, but you must eat with me to-night, will you?
+Come now, what do you say?"
+
+With a half promise Mose walked away toward the Reynolds' carriage--not
+without regret, for there was charm in the princess, both in her own
+handsome person and because she suggested a singular world of which he
+knew nothing. She allured and repelled at the same time.
+
+Beside the buggy Cora and Mrs. Reynolds had spread a substantial lunch,
+and in such humble company the victor of the tournament ate his dinner,
+while Dan and the rest galloped off to a saloon.
+
+"I don't know what I can do with the gun," he said in reply to a
+question from Cora. "My nerves are still on the jump; I guess I'll keep
+out of the contest--it would hurt my reputation to miss." He turned to
+Reynolds: "Capt'n, I want you to get me a chance to punch cattle on a
+car down to Chicago."
+
+Reynolds looked surprised. "What fur do you want to go to Chicago, Mose?
+I never have knew you to mention hit befo'."
+
+Mose felt his skin growing red. "Well, I just thought I'd like to take a
+turn in the States and see the elephant."
+
+"You'll see the hull circus if you go to Chicago," said Mrs. Reynolds.
+"They say it's a terrible wicked place."
+
+"I don't suppose it's any worse than Wagon Wheel, ma," said Cora.
+
+"Yes, but it's so much bigger."
+
+"Well, mother," said Reynolds, "a bear is bigger than a ho'net, but the
+ho'net can give him points and beat him, suah thing."
+
+Mose was rather glad of this diversion, for when Reynolds spoke again it
+was to say: "I reckon I can fix it for you. When do you want it?"
+
+"Right off, this week."
+
+"Be gone long?"
+
+Cora waited anxiously for his answer, and his hesitation and uncertainty
+of tone made her heart grow heavy.
+
+"Oh, no--only a short trip, I reckon. Got to get back before my money
+gives out."
+
+He did not intend to enter the revolver contest, but it offered so easy
+to his hand that he went in and won hands down. His arm was lame, but
+his nerves, not fevered by whisky, swiftly recovered tone. He was
+careful, however, not to go beyond the limits of the contest as he
+should have done had his arm possessed all of its proper cunning. He had
+no real competitor but Dan, who had been drinking steadily all day and
+was unfitted for his work. Mose lost nothing in the trial.
+
+That night he put into his pocket one hundred and twenty dollars as the
+result of his day's work, and immediately asked to be released of his
+duties as guard.
+
+The manager of the Express Company said: "I'm sorry you're leaving us,
+and I hope you'll return to us soon. I'll hold the place open for you,
+if you say so."
+
+This Mose refused. "I don't like it," he said. "I don't think I earn the
+money. Hire a good driver and he'll have no trouble. You don't need
+me."
+
+Mindful of his promise to eat dinner with the princess, he said to
+Reynolds: "Don't wait for me. Go on--I'll overtake you at Twelve Mile
+Creek."
+
+The princess had not lost sight of him for a single moment, and the
+instant he departed from his friends she drove up. "You are to come to
+my house to-night, remember."
+
+"I must overtake my folks; I can't stay long," he said lamely.
+
+Her power was augmented by her home. He had expected pictures and fine
+carpets and a piano and they were there, but there was a great deal
+more. He perceived a richness of effect which he could not have
+formulated better than to say, "It was all _fine_." He had expected
+things to be costly and gay of color, but this mysterious fitness of
+everything was a marvel to one like himself, used only to the meager
+ornaments of the homes in Rock River, or the threadbare poverty of the
+ranches and the squalid hotels of the cow country. The house was a large
+new frame building, not so much different from other houses with respect
+to exterior, but as he entered the door he took off his hat to it as he
+used to do as a lad in the home of Banker Brooks, deacon in his father's
+church.
+
+His was a sensitive soul, eye and ear were both acute. He perceived,
+without accounting for it, that the walls and hangings were
+complementary in color, that the furniture matched the carpet, and that
+the pictures on the wall were unusually good. They were not all
+highly-colored, naked subjects, as he had been led to expect. His
+respect for Mrs. Raimon rose, for he remembered that Mary's home, while
+just as different from this as Mary was different from Mrs. Raimon, had,
+after all, something in common--both were beautiful to him, though
+Mary's home was sweeter, daintier, and homelier. He was in the midst of
+an analysis of these subtleties when Mrs. Raimon (as he now determined
+to call her) returned from changing her dress.
+
+He was amazed at the change in her. She wore a dark gray gown with
+almost no ornament, and looked smaller, older, and paler, but
+incomparably more winning and womanly than she had ever seemed before.
+She appeared to be serious and her voice was gentle and winning.
+
+"Well, boy, here you are--under my roof. Not such an awful den after
+all, is it?" she said with a smile.
+
+"Beats a holler log in a snowstorm," he replied, looking about the room.
+"Must have shipped all this truck from the States, it never was built
+out here--it would take me a couple of months to earn a whole outfit
+like this, wouldn't it?"
+
+She remained serious. "Mose, I want to tell you----"
+
+"Wait a minute," he interrupted; "let's start fair. My name is Harold
+Excell, and I'm going to call you Mrs. Raimon."
+
+She thrust out her hand. "Good boy!" He could see she was profoundly
+pleased. Indeed she could not at once resume. At last she said: "I was
+going to say, Harold, that you can't earn a home trailin' around over
+these mountains year after year with a band of Indians."
+
+He became thoughtful. "I reckon you're right about that. I'm wasting
+time; I've got to picket old Kintuck somewhere and go to work if I----"
+
+He stopped abruptly and she smiled mournfully. "You needn't hesitate;
+tell me all about it."
+
+He sat in silence--a silence that at last became a rebuke. She arose.
+"Well, suppose we go out to supper; we can talk all the better there."
+
+He felt out of place and self-conscious, but he gave little outward sign
+of it as he took his seat at the table opposite her. For reasons of her
+own she emphasized the domestic side of her life and fairly awed the
+stern youth by her womanly dignity and grace. The little table was set
+for two, with pretty dishes. Liquor had no place on the cover, but a
+shining tea-pot, brought in by a smiling negress, was placed at her
+right hand. Her talk for a time was of the tea, the food, his taste as
+to sugar and other things pertaining to her duties as hostess. All his
+lurid imaginings of her faded into the wind, and a thousand new and old
+conceptions of wife and home and peaceful middle age came thronging like
+sober-colored birds. If she were playing a game it was well done and
+successful. Mose fell often into silence and deep thought.
+
+She respected his introspection, and busying herself with the service
+and with low-voiced orders to the waitress, left him free for a time.
+
+Suddenly she turned. "You mustn't judge me by what people say outside.
+Judge me by what I am to you. I don't claim to be a Sunday-school
+teacher, but I average up pretty well, after all. I appear to a
+disadvantage. When Raimon died I took hold of his business out here and
+I've made it pay. I have a talent for business, and I like it. I've got
+enough to be silly with if I want to, but I intend to take care of
+myself--and I may even marry again. I can see you're deeply involved in
+a love affair, Mose, and I honestly want to help you--but I shan't say
+another word about it--only remember, when you need help you come to
+Martha Jane Williams Raimon. How is that for a name? It's mine; my
+father was Lawrence Todd Williams, Professor of Paleontology at Blank
+College. Raimon was an actor of the tenth rate--the kind that play
+leading business in the candlestick circuit. Naturally Doctor Todd
+objected to an actor as a son-in-law. I eloped. Launt was a good fellow,
+and we had a happy honeymoon, but he lost his health and came out here
+and invested in a mine. That brought me. I was always lucky, and we
+struck it--but the poor fellow didn't live long enough to enjoy it. You
+know all," she ended with a curious forced lightness of utterance.
+
+After another characteristic silence, Mose said slowly: "Anyhow, I want
+you to understand that I'm much obliged for your good will; I'm not
+worth a cuss at putting things in a smooth way; I think I'm getting
+worse every day, but you've been my friend, and--and there's no discount
+on my words when I tell you you've made me feel ashamed of myself
+to-day. From this time on, I take no other man's judgment of a woman.
+You know my life--all there is that would interest you. I don't know how
+to talk to a woman--any kind of a woman--but no matter what I say, I
+don't mean to do anybody any harm. I'm getting a good deal like an
+Indian--I talk to make known what's on my mind. Since I was seventeen
+years of age I've let girls pretty well alone. The kind I meet alongside
+the trail don't interest me. When I was a boy I was glib enough, but I
+know a whole lot less now than I did then--that is about some things.
+What I started to say is this: I'm mighty much obliged for what you've
+done for me here--but I'm going to pull out to-night----"
+
+"Not for good?" she said.
+
+"Well--that's beyond me. All I know is I hit the longest and wildest
+trail I ever entered. Where it comes out at I don't know. But I shan't
+forget you; you've been a good friend to me."
+
+Her voice faltered a little as she said: "I wish you'd write to me and
+let me know how you are?"
+
+"Oh, don't expect that of me. I chew my tongue like a ten-year-old kid
+when I write. I never was any good at it, and I'm clear out of it now.
+The chances are I'll round up in the mountains again; I can't see how
+I'd make a living anywhere else. If I come back this way I'll let you
+know."
+
+Neither of them was eating now, and the tension was great. She knew that
+no artifice could keep him, and he was aware of her emotion and was
+eager to escape.
+
+He pushed back his chair at last, and she arose and came toward him and
+took his hand, standing so close to him that her bosom almost touched
+his shoulder.
+
+"I hate to see you go!" she said, and the passionate tremor in her voice
+moved him very deeply. "You've brought back my interest in simple
+things--and life seems worth while when I'm with you."
+
+He shook her hand and then dropped it. "Well, so long."
+
+"So long!" she said, and added, with another attempt at brightness, "and
+don't stay away too long, and don't fail to let me know when you make
+the circuit."
+
+As he mounted his horse he remembered that there was another good-by to
+speak, and that was to Cora.
+
+"I wish these women would let a man go without saying good-by at all,"
+he thought in irritation, but the patter of Kintuck's feet set his
+thought in other directions. As he topped the divide, he drew rein and
+looked at the great range to the southeast, lit by the dull red light of
+the sun, which had long since set to the settlers in the valley. His
+heart was for a moment divided. The joys of the trail--the care-free
+life--perhaps after all the family life was not for him. Perhaps he was
+chasing a mirage. He was on the divide of his life. On one side were the
+mountains, the camps, the cattle, the wild animals--on the other the
+plains, the cities, and Mary.
+
+The thought of Mary went deep. It took hold of the foundations of his
+thinking and decided him. Shuddering with the pain and despair of his
+love he lifted rein and rode down into the deep shadow of the long canon
+through which roared the swift waters of the North Fork on their long
+journey to the east and south. Thereafter he had no uncertainties. Like
+the water of the canon he had but to go downward to the plain.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE EAGLE ADVENTURES INTO STRANGE LANDS
+
+
+It can not be said that the Black Eagle of the Rocky Mountains
+approached civilization in any heroic disguise. At its best,
+accompanying a cattle train is not epic in its largeness. To prod cattle
+by means of a long pole, to pull out smothered sheep, are not in
+themselves degrading deeds, but they are not picturesque in quality.
+They smell of the shambles, not of the hills.
+
+Day by day the train slid down the shining threads of track like a long
+string of rectangular green and brown and yellow beads. The caboose was
+filled with cattlemen and their assistants, who smoked, talked politics,
+told stories, and slept at all hours of the day, whenever a spare
+segment of bench offered. Those who were awake saw everything and
+commented on everything in sight. To some the main questions were when
+and where they were to get dinner or secure a drink. The train, being a
+"through freight," ran almost as steadily as a passenger train, and the
+thirsty souls became quite depressed or savage at times by lack of
+opportunities to "wet their whistles."
+
+Mose was singularly silent, for he was reliving his boyish life on the
+plains and noting the changes which had taken place. The towns had grown
+gray with the bleach of the weather. Farms had multiplied and fences cut
+the range into pasture lands. As the mountains sank beneath the level
+horizon line his heart sank with them. Every hour of travel to the East
+was to him dangerous, disheartening. On the second day he was ready to
+leap from the caboose and wave it good-by; but he did not--he merely sat
+on the back platform and watched the track. He felt as if he were in one
+of those aerial buckets which descend like eagles from the mines in the
+Marshall Basin; the engine appeared to proceed eastward of its own
+weight, impossible to check or turn back.
+
+The uncertainty of finding Mary in the millions of the city weakened his
+resolution, but as he was aboard, and as the train slid while he
+pondered, descending, remorselessly, he determined to "stay with it" as
+he would with a bucking broncho.
+
+Kansas City with its big depot sheds filled with clangor and swarming
+with emigrants gave him a foretaste of Chicago. Two of his companions
+proceeded to get drunk and became so offensive that he was forced to
+cuff them into quiet. This depressed him also--he had no other defense
+but his hands. His revolvers were put away in his valise where they
+could not be reached in a hurry. Reynolds had said to him, "Now, Mose,
+you're going into a country where they settle things with fists, so
+leave your guns at home. Keep cool and don't mix in where there's no
+call to mix in. If a man gives you lip--walk off and leave him--don't
+hunt your guns."
+
+Mose had also purchased a "hard" hat and shaved off his mustache in
+Canon City, and Reynolds himself would not have known him as he
+sauntered about the station room. Every time he lifted his fingers to
+his mustache he experienced a shock, and coming before a big mirror over
+the fireplace he stared with amazement--so boyish and so sorrowful did
+he appear to himself. It seemed as though he were playing a part.
+
+As the train drew out of the town, night was falling and the East grew
+mysterious as the thitherward side of the river of death. Familiar
+things were being left behind. Uncertainties thickened like the
+darkness. All night long the engine hooted and howled and jarred along
+through the deep darkness, and every time the train stopped the cattle
+and sheep were inspected. Lanterns held aloft disclosed cattle being
+trampled to death and sheep smothering. Wild shouting, oaths, broke
+forth accompanied by thumpings, and the rumbling and creaking of cars as
+the cattle surged to and fro, and at the end, circles of fire--lanterns
+signaling "Go ahead"--caused a wild rush for the caboose.
+
+Morning brought to light a land of small farms, with cattle in minute
+pastures, surrounded by stacks of hay and grain, plowed fields,
+threshing crews, and teams plodding to and fro on dusty roads. The
+plainsman was gone, the prairie farmer filled the landscape. Towns
+thickened and grew larger. At noon the freight lay at a siding to let
+the express trains come in at a populous city, and in the wait Mose
+found time to pace the platform. The people were better dressed, the
+cowboy hat was absent, and nearly everybody wore not merely a coat but a
+vest and linen collar. Some lovely girls looking crisp as columbines or
+plains' poppies looked at him from the doors of the parlor cars. They
+suggested Mary to him, of course, and made him realize how far he was
+getting from the range.
+
+These dainty girls looked and acted like some of those he had seen in
+Canon City and the Springs. They walked with the same step and held
+their dresses the same way. That must be the fashion, he thought. The
+men of the town were less solemn than plainsmen, they smiled oftener
+and they joked more easily. Mose wondered how so many of them made a
+living in one place. He heard one girl say to another, "Yes--but he's
+awful sad looking, don't you think so?" and it was some minutes before
+he began to understand that they were talking about him. Then he wished
+he knew what else they had said.
+
+There was little chance to see the towns for the train whirled through
+them with furious jangle of bell and whiz of steam--or else drew up in
+the freight yard a long way out from the station. When night fell on
+this, the third day, they were nearing the Great River and all the
+cattlemen were lamenting the fact. Those who had been over the line
+before said:
+
+"Too bad, fellers! You'd ought to see the Mississippi, she's a loo-loo.
+The bridge, too, is worth seein'."
+
+During the evening there was a serious talk about hotels and the
+amusements to be had. One faction, led by McCleary, of Currant Creek,
+stood for the "Drovers' Home." "It's right out near the stockyards an'
+it's a good place. Dollar a day covers everything, unless you want a big
+room, which is a quarter extra. Grub is all right--and some darn nice
+girls waitin' on the table, too."
+
+But Thompson who owned the sheep was contemptuous. "I want to be in
+town; I don't go to Chicago to live out in the stockyards; I want to be
+where things go by. I ante my valise at the Grand Palace or the New
+Merchants'; the best is good enough for me."
+
+McCleary looked a little put down. "Well, that's all right for a man who
+can afford it. I've got a big family and I wouldn't feel right to be
+blowing in two or three dollars a day just for style."
+
+"Wherever the girls are thickest, there's where you'll find me," said
+one of the young fellows.
+
+"That's me," said another.
+
+Thompson smiled with a superior air. "You fellers'll bring up down on
+South Clark Street before you end. Some choice dive on the levee is
+gappin' for you. Now, mind you, I won't bail you out. You go into the
+game with your eyes open," he said, and his banter was highly pleasing
+to the accused ones.
+
+McCleary turned to Harold, whom he knew only as "Hank," and said:
+
+"Hank, you ain't sayin' a word; what're your plans?"
+
+"I'll stay with you as long as you need me."
+
+"All right; I'll take care o' you then."
+
+Night fell before they came in sight of the city. They were woefully
+behindhand and everything delayed them. After a hundred hesitations
+succeeded by fierce forward dashes, after switching this way and that,
+they came to a final halt in a jungle of freight cars, a chaos of
+mysterious activities, and a dense, hot, steaming atmosphere that
+oppressed and sickened the men from the mountains. Lanterns sparkled and
+looped and circled, and fierce cries arose. Engines snorted in sullen
+labor, charging to and fro, aimlessly it appeared. And all around cattle
+were bawling, sheep were pleading for release, and swine lifted their
+piercing protests against imprisonment.
+
+"Here we are, in Chicago!" said McCleary, who always entered the city on
+that side. "Now, fellers, watch out for yourselves. Keep your hands on
+your wallets and don't blow out the electric light."
+
+"Oh, you go to hell," was their jocular reply.
+
+"We're no spring chickens."
+
+"You go up against this town, my boys, and you'll think you're just out
+o' the shell."
+
+Mose said nothing. He had the indifferent air of a man who had been
+often to the great metropolis and knew exactly what he wished to do.
+
+It was after twelve o'clock when the crowd of noisy cattlemen tramped
+into the Drovers' Home, glad of a safe ending of their trip. They were
+all boisterous and all of them were liquorous except Harold, who drank
+little and remained silent and uncommunicative. He had been most
+efficient in all ways and McCleary was grateful and filled with
+admiration of him. He had taken him without knowing who he was, merely
+because Reynolds requested it, but he now said:
+
+"Hank, you're a jim-dandy; I want you. When you've had your spree here,
+you come back with me and I'll do the right thing by ye."
+
+Harold thanked him in offhand phrase and went early to bed.
+
+He had not slept in a hotel bed since the night in Marmion when Jack was
+with him, and the wonderful charm and mystery and passion of those two
+days, so intimately wrought in with passionate memories of Mary, came
+back upon him now, keeping him awake till nearly dawn. He arose late and
+yet found only McCleary at breakfast; the other men had remained so long
+in the barroom that sleep and drunkenness came together.
+
+After breakfast Harold wandered out into the street. To his left a
+hundred towers of dull gray smoke rose, and prodigious buildings set in
+empty spaces were like the cliffs of red stone in the Quirino. Beyond,
+great roofs thickened in the haze, farther on in that way lay Chicago,
+and somewhere in that welter, that tumult, that terror of the unknown,
+lived Mary.
+
+With McCleary he took a car that galloped like a broncho, and started
+for the very heart of the mystery. As the crowds thickened, as the cars
+they met grew more heavily laden, McCleary said:
+
+"My God! Where are they all goin'? How do they all make a livin'?"
+
+"That beats me," said Harold. "Seems as if they eat up all the grub in
+the world."
+
+The older man sighed. "Well, I reckon they know what they're doin', but
+I'd hate to take my chances among 'em."
+
+If any man had told Harold before he started that he would grow
+irresolute and weak in the presence of the city he would have bitterly
+resented it, but now the mass and weight of things hitherto unimagined
+appalled and bewildered him.
+
+A profound melancholy settled over his heart as the smoke and gray light
+of the metropolis closed in over his head. For half a day he did little
+more than wander up and down Clark Street. His ears, acute as a hound's,
+took hold of every sound and attempted to identify it, just as his eyes
+seized and tried to understand the forms and faces of the swarming
+pavements. He felt his weakness as never before and it made him sullen
+and irritable. He acknowledged also the folly of thrusting himself into
+such a world, and had it not been for a certain tenacity of purpose
+which was beyond his will, he would have returned with his companions at
+the end of their riotous week.
+
+Up till the day of their going he had made no effort to find Mary but
+had merely loitered in the streets in the daytime, and at night had
+visited the cheap theaters, not knowing the good from the bad. The city
+grew each day more vast and more hateful to him. The mere thought of
+being forced to earn a living in such a mad tumult made him shudder. The
+day that McCleary started West Harold went to see him off, and after
+they had shaken hands for the last time, Harold went to the ticket
+window and handed in his return coupon to the agent, saying, "I'd like
+to have you put that aside for me; I don't want to run any chances of
+losing it."
+
+The agent smiled knowingly. "All right, what name?"
+
+"Excell, 'XL,' that's my brand."
+
+"All right, she's right here any time you want her--inside of the thirty
+days--time runs out on the fifteenth."
+
+"I savvy," said Harold as he turned away.
+
+He disposed his money about his person in four or five small wads, and
+so fortified, faced the city. To lose his little fund would be like
+having his pack mule give out in the desert, and he took every
+precaution against such a calamity.
+
+Nothing of this uncertainty and inner weakness appeared in his outward
+actions, however. No one accused him of looking like an "easy mark" or
+"a soft thing." The line of his lips and the lower of his strongly
+marked eyebrows made strangers slow of approach. He was never awkward,
+he could not be so any more than could a fox or a puma, but he was
+restless, irresolute, brooding, and gloomy.
+
+He moved down to the Occidental Grand, where he was able to secure a
+room on the top floor for fifty cents per day. His meals he picked up
+wherever he chanced to be when feeling hungry. When weary with his
+wanderings he often returned to his seat on the sidewalk before the
+hotel and watched the people pass, finding in this a melancholy
+pleasure.
+
+One evening the night clerk, a brisk young fellow, took a seat beside
+him. "This is a great corner for the girls all right. A feller can just
+about take his pick here along about eight. They're after a ticket to
+the theater and a supper. If a feller only has a few seemolleons to
+spare he can have a life worth livin'."
+
+Mose turned a curious glance upon him. "If you wanted to find a party
+in this town how would you go at it?"
+
+"Well, I'd try the directory first go-off. If I didn't find him there
+I'd write to some of his folks, if I knew any of 'em, and get a clew. If
+I didn't succeed then I'd try the police. What's his name?"
+
+Harold ignored this query.
+
+"Where could I try this directory?"
+
+"There's one right in there on the desk."
+
+"That big book?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I didn't know what that was. I thought it was a dictionary."
+
+The clerk shrieked with merriment. "The dictionary! Well, say, where
+have you been raised?"
+
+"On the range."
+
+"You mean cowboy?"
+
+"Yes; we don't need directories out there. Does that book tell where
+everybody lives?"
+
+"Well no, but most everybody shows up in it somewhere," replied the
+clerk quite soberly. It had not occurred to him that anybody could live
+outside a directory.
+
+Harold got up and went to the book which he turned over slowly, looking
+at the names. "I don't see that this helps a man much," he said to the
+clerk who came in to help him. "Here is Henry Coleman lives at 2201
+Exeter Street. Now how is a man going to find that street?"
+
+"Ask a policeman," replied the clerk, much interested. "You're not used
+to towns?"
+
+"Not much. I can cross a mountain range easier than I can find one of
+these streets."
+
+Under the clerk's supervision Harold found the Yardwells, Thomas and
+James, but Mary's name did not appear. He turned to conservatories and
+located three or four, and having made out a slip of information set
+forth. The first one he found to be situated up several flights of
+stairs and was closed; so was the second. The third was in a brilliantly
+lighted building which towered high above the street. On the eighth
+floor in a small office a young girl with severe cast of countenance
+(and hair parted on one side) looked up from her writing and coldly
+inquired:
+
+"Is there anything I can do for you?"
+
+"Is there a girl named Mary Yardwell in your school?" he asked with some
+effort, feeling a hot flush in his cheek--a sensation new to him.
+
+"I don't think so, I'll look," replied the girl with business civility.
+She thumbed a book to see and at length replied, "No, sir, there is
+not."
+
+"Much obliged."
+
+"Not at all," replied the girl calmly, resuming her work.
+
+Harold went down the steps to avoid the elevator. The next place was
+oppressive with its grandeur. A tremendous wall, cold and dark (except
+for a single row of lighted windows), loomed high overhead. In the
+center of an arched opening in this wall a white hot globe flamed,
+lighting into still more dazzling cleanliness a broad flight of marble
+steps which led by a half turn to unknown regions above. Young people
+were crowding into the elevator, girls in dainty costumes predominating.
+They seemed wondrously flowerlike and birdlike to the plainsman, and
+brought back his school days at the seminary, and the time when he was
+at ease with young people like this. He had gone far from them
+now--their happy faces made him sad.
+
+He walked up the stairway, four flights, and came to a long hall, which
+rustled and rippled and sparkled with flights of young girls--eager,
+vivid, excited, and care-free. A few men moved about like dull-coated
+robins surrounded by orioles and canary birds.
+
+A bland old man with clean-shaven mouth seemed to be the proper source
+of information, and to him Harold stepped with his question.
+
+The old man smiled. "Miss Yardwell? Yes--she is one of our most valued
+pupils. Certainly--Willy!" he called to a small boy who carried a
+livery of startling newness, "go tell Miss Yardwell a gentleman would
+like to see her."
+
+"I suppose you are from her country home?" said the old gentleman, who
+imagined a romance in this relation of a powerful and handsome young man
+to Miss Yardwell.
+
+"I am," Harold replied briefly.
+
+"Take a seat--she will be here presently."
+
+Harold took the offered seat with a sick, faint feeling at the pit of
+his stomach. The long-hoped-for event was at hand. It seemed impossible
+that Mary could be there--that she was about to stand before him. His
+mind was filled with the things he had arranged to say to her, but they
+were now in confused mass, circling and circling like the wrack of a
+boat in a river's whirlpool.
+
+He knew her far down the hall--he recognized the poise of her head and
+her walk, which had always been very fine and dignified. As she
+approached, the radiance of her dress, her beauty, scared him. She
+looked at him once and then at the clerk as if to say, "Is this the
+man?"
+
+Then Harold arose and said, "Well, Mary, here I am."
+
+For an instant she looked at him, and then a light leaped into her eyes.
+
+"Why, Harold Excell!----" she stopped abruptly as he caught her
+outstretched hands, and she remembered the sinister association of the
+name. "Why, why, I didn't know you. Where do you come from?" Her face
+was flushed, her eyes eager, searching, restless. "Come in here," she
+said abruptly, and before he had time to reply, she led him to a little
+anteroom with a cushioned wall seat, and they took seats side by side.
+
+"It is impossible!" she said, still staring at him, her bosom pulsating
+with her quickened breath. "It is not you--it can't be you," she
+whispered, "Black Mose sitting here--with me--in Chicago. You're in
+danger."
+
+"I don't feel that way."
+
+He smiled for the first time, and his fine teeth shining from his
+handsome mouth led her to say:
+
+"Your big mustaches are gone--that's the reason I didn't know you at
+once--I don't believe I like you so well----"
+
+"They'll grow again," he said; "I'm in disguise." He smiled again as if
+in a joke.
+
+Again the thought of who he really was flamed through her mind. "What a
+life you lead! How do you happen to be here? I never expected to see you
+in a city--you don't fit into a city."
+
+"I'm here because you are," he replied, and the simplicity of his reply
+moved her deeply. "I came as soon as I got your letter," he went on.
+
+"My letter! I've written only one letter, that was soon after your visit
+to Marmion."
+
+"That's the one I mean. I got it nearly four years after you wrote it. I
+hope you haven't changed since that letter."
+
+"I'm older," she said evasively. "My father died a little over a year
+ago."
+
+"I know, Jack wrote me."
+
+"Why didn't you get my letter sooner?"
+
+"I was on the trail."
+
+"On the trail! You are always on the trail. Oh, the wild life you lead!
+I saw notices of you once or twice--always in some trouble." She looked
+at him smilingly but there was sadness in her smile.
+
+"It's no fault of mine," he exclaimed. "I can't stand by and see some
+poor Indian or Chinaman bullied--and besides the papers always
+exaggerate everything I do. You mustn't condemn me till you hear my side
+of these scrapes."
+
+"I don't condemn you at all but it makes me sad," she slowly replied.
+"You are wasting your life out there in the wild country--oh, isn't it
+strange that we should sit here? My mind is so busy with the wonder of
+it I can't talk straight. I had given up ever seeing you again----"
+
+"You're not married?" he asked with startling bluntness.
+
+She colored hotly. "No."
+
+"Are you engaged?"
+
+"No," she replied faintly.
+
+"Then you're mine!" he said with a clutch upon her wrist, a masterful
+intensity of passion in his eyes.
+
+"Don't--please don't!" she said, "they will see you."
+
+"I don't care if they do!" he exultingly said; then his face darkened.
+"But perhaps you are ashamed of me?"
+
+"Oh, no, no--only----"
+
+"I couldn't blame you if you were," he said bitterly. "I'm only a poor
+devil of a mountaineer, not fit to sit here beside you."
+
+"Tell me about yourself," she hastened to say. "What have you been doing
+all these years?" She was determined to turn him from his savage
+arraignment of himself.
+
+"It won't amount to much in your eyes. It isn't worth as much to me as I
+thought it was going to be. When I found King had your promise--I hit
+the trail and I didn't care where it led, so it didn't double on itself.
+I didn't want to see or hear anything of you again. What became of
+King? Why did you turn him loose?"
+
+Her eyelids fell to shut out his gaze. "Well--after your visit I
+couldn't find courage to fulfill my promise--and so I asked him to
+release me--and he did--he was very kind."
+
+"He couldn't do anything else."
+
+"Go on with your story," she said hurriedly.
+
+As they sat thus in the corner of the little sitting room, the pupils
+and guests of the institution came and went from the cloak rooms, eyeing
+the intent couple with smiling and curious glances. Who could that dark,
+handsome young man be who held Miss Yardwell with his glittering eyes?
+The girls found something very interesting in his bronzed skin and in
+the big black hat which he held in his hands.
+
+On his part Harold did not care--he scarcely noticed these figures.
+Their whispers were as unimportant as the sound of aspen leaves, their
+footfalls as little to be heeded as those of rabbits on the pine needles
+of his camp. Before him sat the one human being in the world who could
+command him and she was absorbed in interest of his story. He grew to a
+tense, swift, eager narration as he went on. It pleased him to see her
+glow with interest and enthusiasm over the sights and sounds of the wild
+country. At last he ended.
+
+"And so--I feel as though I could settle down--if I only had you. The
+trail got lonesome that last year--I didn't suppose it would--but it
+did. After three years of it I was glad to get back to my old friends,
+the Reynolds. I thought of you every day--but I didn't listen to hear
+you sing, because I thought you were King's wife--I didn't want to hear
+about you ever--but that's all past now--I am here and you are here.
+Will you go back to the mountains with me this time?"
+
+She looked away. "Come and see me to-morrow, I must think of this. It is
+so hard to decide--our lives are so different----" She arose abruptly.
+"I must go now. Come into the concert, I'm going to sing." She glanced
+at him in a sad, half-smiling way. "I can't sing If I Were a Voice for
+you, but perhaps you'll like my aria better."
+
+As they walked along the corridor together they formed a singularly
+handsome couple. He was clad in a well-worn but neat black suit, which
+he wore with grace. His big-rimmed black hat was crushed in his left
+hand. Mary was in pale blue which became her well, and on her softly
+rounded face a thoughtful smile rested. She always walked with uncommon
+dignity, and the eyes of many young men followed her. There was
+something about her companion not quite analyzable to her city
+friends--something alien and savage and admirable.
+
+Entering the hall they found it well filled, but Mary secured a seat
+near the side door for Harold, and with a smile said, "I may not see you
+till to-morrow. Here is my address. Come up early. At three. I want a
+long talk with you."
+
+Left to himself the plainsman looked around the hall which seemed a
+splendid and spacious one to him. It was filled with ladies in beautiful
+costumes, and with men in clawhammer coats. He had seen pictures of
+evening suits in the newspapers but never before had he been privileged
+to behold live men in them. The men seemed pale and puny for the most
+part. He had never before seen ladies in low-necked dresses and one just
+before him seemed shamelessly naked, and he gazed at her in
+astonishment. He was glad Mary had more modesty.
+
+The concert interested him but did not move him. The songs were
+brilliant but without meaning. He waited with fierce impatience for Mary
+to come on, and during this wait he did an inordinate amount of
+thinking. A hundred new conceptions came into his besieged
+brain--engaging but by no means confusing him. He perceived that Mary
+was already as much a part of this high-colored life as she had been of
+the life of Marmion, quite at ease, certain of herself, and the canon
+between them widened swiftly. She was infinitely further away from him
+than before. His cause now entirely hopeless, he had no right to ask any
+such sacrifice of her--even if she were ready to make it.
+
+As she stepped out upon the stage in the glare of the light, she seemed
+as far from him as the roseate crown of snow on Sierra Blanca, and he
+shivered with a sort of awe. Her singing moved him less than her
+delicate beauty--but her voice and the pretty way she had of lifting her
+chin thrilled him just as when he sat in the little church at Marmion.
+The flowerlike texture of her skin and the exquisite grace of her hands
+plunged him into gloom.
+
+He did not join in the generous applause which followed--he wondered if
+she would sing If I Were a Voice for him. He felt a numbness creeping
+over his limbs and he drew his breath like one in pain. Mary looked pale
+as a lily as she returned and stood waiting for the applause to die
+away. Then out over the tense audience, straight toward him, soared her
+voice quivering with emotion--she dared to sing the old song for him.
+
+Suddenly all sense of material things passed from the wild heart of the
+plainsman. He saw only the singer who stood in the center of a white
+flame. A soft humming roar was in his ears like the falling of rain
+drops on the leaves of maple trees. He remembered the pale little girl
+in the prison--this was not Mary--but she had the voice and the spirit
+of Mary----
+
+Then the song stopped! The singer went away--the white light went with
+her and the yellow glare of lamps came back. He heard the passionate
+applause--he saw Mary reappear and bow, a sad smile on her face--a smile
+which he alone could understand--her heart was full of pity for him.
+Then once more she withdrew, and staggering like one suffering from
+vertigo--the eagle-hearted youth went out of the hall and down the
+polished stairway like an outcast soul, descending from paradise into
+hell.
+
+That radiant singer was not for such as Black Mose.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+A DARK DAY WITH A GLOWING SUNSET
+
+
+The clerk at the station window was not the kindly young man who had
+received Harold's ticket for safe keeping. He knew nothing of it and
+poked around for several minutes before finding it. After glancing
+keenly at its date he threw it down and brusquely said:
+
+"Time's out on this, my friend."
+
+Harold looked at him sharply. "Oh, no, that can't be; it's a thirty-day
+trip."
+
+The agent grew irritable. "I know it is; it was good to the fifteenth;
+this is the seventeenth; the ticket is worthless."
+
+Harold took up the slip of paper and stared at it in bewilderment. The
+agent was right; he had overstayed the limit and was without five
+dollars in his pocket. He turned weak with a sudden sense of his
+helplessness and the desolation of his surroundings. He was like a man
+whose horse fails him on a desert. Taking a seat on a bench in a dark
+corner of the waiting room he gave himself up to a study of the
+situation. To be alone in the Needle Range was nothing to worry about,
+but to be alone and without money in a city scared him.
+
+For two hours he sat there, his thoughts milling like a herd of restless
+cattle, turning aimlessly around and around in their tracks. He had
+foolishly neglected his opportunity to escape, and the mountains became
+each moment more beautiful as they swiftly receded into unattainable
+distance. He had expected to be riding back into the safe and splendid
+plains country, back to friends and familiar things, and had trusted to
+the joy of his return to soften the despair of his second failure to
+take Mary back with him.
+
+It was a sorrowful thing to see the young eagle in somber dream, the man
+of unhesitating action becoming introspective. Floods of intent business
+men, gay young girls, and grizzled old farmers in groups of twos and
+threes, streamed by, dimly shadowed in his reflective eyes. All these
+people had purpose and reward in their lives; he alone was a stray, a
+tramp, with no one but old Kintuck to draw him to any particular spot or
+keep him there.
+
+"I am outside of everything," he bitterly thought. "There is nothing for
+me."
+
+Yes, there was Cora and there was little Pink--and then he thought of
+Mrs. Raimon, whose wealth and serenity of temper had a greater appeal
+than ever before. He knew perfectly well that a single word from him
+would bring her and her money to his rescue at once. But something arose
+in him which made the utterance of such a word impossible. As for Cora
+and the little one, they brought up a different emotion, and the thought
+of them at last aroused him to action.
+
+"I'll get something to do and earn money enough to go back on," he
+finally said to himself; "that's all I'm fit for, just to work by the
+day for some other man; that's my size. I've failed in everything else
+I've ever undertaken. I've no business to interfere with a girl like
+Mary. She's too high class for a hobo like me; even if I had a ranch it
+would be playing it low down on a singer like her to ask her to go out
+there. It's no use; I'm worse than a failure--I'm in a hole, and the
+first thing I've got to do is to earn money enough to get out of it."
+
+He was ashamed to go back to the little hotel to which he had said
+good-by with so much relief. It was too expensive for him, anyhow, and
+so he set to work to find one near by which came within his changed
+condition. He secured lodging at last in an old wooden shack on a side
+street not far from the station, where rooms could be had for twenty
+cents a night--in advance. It was a wretched place, filled with
+cockroaches and other insects, but it was at least a hole in which he
+could den up for a few nights when sleep overcame him. Thus fortified,
+he wandered forth into the city, which was becoming each moment more
+remorseless and more menacing in his eyes.
+
+Almost without knowing it, he found himself walking the broad pavement
+before the musical college wherein he found Mary. He had no definite
+hope of seeing her again, but that doorway was the one spot of light in
+all the weltering black chaos of the city, which now threatened him with
+hunger and cold. The awe and terror he felt were such as a city dweller
+would feel if left alone in a wild swamp filled with strange beasts and
+reptiles.
+
+After an hour's aimless walking to and fro, he returned to his bed each
+night, still revolving every conceivable plan for earning money. His
+thought turned naturally to the handling of cattle at the stockyards,
+and one morning he set forth on his quest, only to meet with a great
+surprise. He found all the world changed to him when it became known
+that he was looking for a job. When he said to the office boys, "I want
+to see the man who has charge of hiring the hands," they told him to
+wait a while in a tone of voice which he had never before encountered.
+His blood flamed hot in an instant over their calm insolence. Eventually
+he found his way into a room where a surly fat man sat writing. He
+looked up over his shoulder and snarled out:
+
+"Well, what is it? What do you want?"
+
+Harold controlled himself and replied: "I want to get a job; I'm a
+cattleman from Colorado, and I'd like----"
+
+"I don't care where you're from; we've got all the men we want. See Mr.
+White, don't come bothering me."
+
+Harold put his hand on the man's shoulder with the gesture of an angry
+leopard, and a yellow glare filled his eyes, from which the brutal boss
+shrank as if from a flame.
+
+With a powerful effort he pulled himself up short and said: "Treat the
+next cattleman that comes your way a little more decent or you'll get a
+part of your lung carried away. Good day."
+
+He walked out with the old familiar numbness in his body and the red
+flashes wavering before his eyes. His brain was in tumult. The free man
+of the mountain had come in contact with "the tyrant of labor," and it
+was well for the big beast that Harold was for the moment without his
+gun.
+
+Going back to his room he took out his revolver and loaded every
+chamber. In the set of his lips was menace to the next employer who
+dared to insult and degrade him.
+
+In the days that followed he wandered over the city, with eyes that took
+note of every group of workmen. He could not bring himself to go back to
+the stockyards, there was danger of his becoming a murderer if he did;
+and as he approached the various bosses of the gangs of men in the
+street, he found himself again and again without the resolution to touch
+his hat and ask for a job. Once or twice he saw others quite as brutally
+rebuffed as he had been, and it was only by turning away that he kept
+himself from taking a hand in an encounter. Once or twice, when the
+overseer happened to be a decent and sociable fellow, Harold, edging
+near, caught his eye and was able to address him on terms of equality;
+but in each case the talk which followed brought out the fact that men
+were swarming for every place; indeed Harold could see this for himself.
+Ultimately he fell into the ranks of poor, shivering, hollow-cheeked
+fellows who stood around wistfully watching the excavation of cellars or
+hanging with pathetic intentness above the handling of great iron beams
+or pile drivers.
+
+Work came to be a wonderful thing to possess. To put hand to a beam or a
+shovel seemed now a most desirable favor, for it meant not only warm
+food and security and shelter, but in his case it promised a return to
+the mountains which came each hour to seem the one desirable and
+splendid country in the world--so secure, so joyous, so shining, his
+heart ached with wistful love of it.
+
+Each night he walked over to the Lake shore, past the college and up the
+viaduct, till he could look out over the mysterious, dim expanse of
+water. It reminded him of the plains, and helped him with its lonely
+sweep and its serene majesty of reflected stars. At night he dreamed of
+the cattle and of his old companions on the trail; once he was riding
+with Talfeather and his band in the West Elk Mountains; once he was
+riding up the looping, splendid incline of the Trout Lake Trail, seeing
+the clouds gather around old Lizard Head. At other times he was back at
+the Reynolds ranch taking supper while the cattle bawled, and through
+the open door the light of the setting sun fell.
+
+He had written to Reynolds, asking him to buy his saddle and bridle (he
+couldn't bring himself to sell Kintuck) and each day he hoped for a
+reply. He had not stated his urgent need of money, but Reynolds would
+know. One by one every little trinket which he possessed went to pay his
+landlord for his room. He had a small nugget, which he had carried as a
+good-luck pocket-piece for many months; this he sold, and at last his
+revolvers went, and then he seemed helpless.
+
+No word from Reynolds came, and the worst of it was, if the money did
+come it would not now be enough to carry him back. If he had been able
+to put it with the money from his nugget and revolvers it would at least
+have taken him to Denver. But now it was too late.
+
+At last there came a day when he was at his last resource. He could find
+no work to do in the streets, and so, setting his teeth on his pride, he
+once more sought the stockyards and "Mr. White." It was a cold, rainy
+day, and he walked the entire distance. Weak as he was from insufficient
+food, bad air, and his depression, he could not afford to spend one cent
+for car fare.
+
+White turned out to be a very decent fellow, who knew nothing whatever
+of Harold's encounter with the other man. He had no work for him,
+however. He seemed genuinely regretful, and said:
+
+"As a matter of fact, I'm laying off men just now; you see the rush is
+pretty well over with."
+
+Harold went over to the Great Western Hotel and hung about the barroom,
+hoping to meet some one he knew, even though there was a certain risk of
+being recognized as Black Mose. Swarms of cattlemen filled the hotel,
+but they were mainly from Texas and Oklahoma, and no familiar face met
+his searching eyes. He was now so desperately homesick that he meditated
+striking one of these prosperous-looking fellows for a pass back to the
+cattle country. But each time his pride stood in the way. It would be
+necessary to tell his story and yet conceal his name--which was a very
+difficult thing to do even if he had had nothing to cover up.
+
+Late in the evening, faint with hunger, he started for his wretched bunk
+as a starving wolf returns, after an unsuccessful hunt, to his cold and
+cheerless den. His money was again reduced to a few coppers, and for a
+week he had allowed himself only a small roll three times a day. "My
+God! if I was only among the In-jins," he said savagely; "_they_
+wouldn't see a man starve, not while they had a sliver of meat to share
+with him; but these Easterners don't care; I'm no more to them than a
+snake or a horned toad."
+
+The knowledge that Mary's heart would bleed with sorrow if she knew of
+his condition nerved him to make another desperate trial. "I'll try
+again to-morrow," he said through his set teeth.
+
+On the way home his curious fatalism took a sudden turn, and a feeling
+that Reynolds' letter surely awaited him made his heart glow. It was
+impossible that he should actually be without a cent of money, and the
+thought filled his brain with an irrational exaltation which made him
+forget the slime in which his feet slipped. He planned to start on the
+limited train. "I'll go as far from this cursed hole of a city as I
+can," he said; "I'll get out where men don't eat each other to keep
+alive. He'll certainly send me twenty dollars. The silver on the bridle
+is worth that alone. Mebbe he'll understand I'm broke, and send me
+fifty."
+
+He became so sure of this at last that he stepped into a saloon and
+bought a big glass of brandy to ward off a chill which he felt coming
+upon him, and helped himself to a lunch at the counter. When he arose
+his limbs felt weak and a singular numbness had spread over his whole
+body. He had never been drunk in his life--but he knew the brandy had
+produced this effect.
+
+"I shouldn't have taken it on an empty stomach," he muttered to himself
+as he dragged his heavy limbs out of the door.
+
+When he came fairly to his senses again he was lying in his little room
+and the slatternly chambermaid was looking in at him.
+
+"You aind seek alretty?" she asked.
+
+"Go away," he said with a scowl; "you've bothered me too much."
+
+"You peen trinken--aind it. Chim help you up de stairs last nide."
+
+"What time is it?" he asked, with an effort to recall where he had been.
+
+"Tweluf o'clock," she replied, still looking at him keenly, genuinely
+concerned about him.
+
+"Go away. I must get up." As she went toward the door he sat up for a
+moment, but a terrible throbbing pain just back of his eyes threw him
+back upon his pillow as if he had met the blow of a fist. "Oh, I'm used
+up--I can't do it," he groaned, pressing his palms to his temples. "I'm
+burning up with fever."
+
+The girl came back. "Dat's vat I tought. You dond look ride. Your mudder
+vouldn't known you since you gome here. Pedder you send for your folks
+alretty."
+
+"Oh, go out--let me alone. Yes, I'll do it. I'll get up soon."
+
+When the girl returned with the proprietor of the hotel Harold was far
+past rational speech. He was pounding furiously on the door, shouting,
+"Let me out!" When they tried to open the door they found it locked. The
+proprietor, a burly German, set his weight against it and tore the lock
+off.
+
+Harold was dangerously quiet as he said: "You'd better let me out o'
+here. Them greasers are stampeding the cattle. It's a little trick of
+theirs."
+
+"Dot's all right; you go back to bed; I'll look out for dot greaser
+pisness," said the landlord, who thought him drunk.
+
+"You let me out or I'll break you in two," the determined man replied,
+and a tremendous struggle took place.
+
+Ultimately Harold was vanquished, and Schmidt, piling his huge bulk on
+the worn-out body of the young man, held him until his notion changed.
+
+"Did you ever have a tree burn up in your head?" he asked.
+
+"Pring a policeman," whispered Schmidt to the girl, "and a doctor. De
+man is grazy mit fevers; he aindt trunk."
+
+When the officer came in Harold looked at him with sternly steady eyes.
+"See here, cap, don't you try any funny business with me. I won't stand
+it; I'll shoot with you for dollars or doughnuts."
+
+"What's the matter--jim-jams?" asked the officer indifferently.
+
+"No," replied Schmidt, "I tondt pelief it--he's got some fever onto
+him."
+
+The policeman felt his pulse. "He's certainly hot enough. Who is he?"
+
+"Hank Jones."
+
+"That's a lie--I'm 'Black Mose,'" said Harold.
+
+The policeman smiled. "'Black Mose' was killed in San Juan last summer."
+
+Harold received this news gravely. "Sorry for him, but I'm the man.
+You'll find my name on my revolver, the big one--not the little one. I'm
+all the 'Black Mose' there is. If you'll give me a chance I'll rope a
+steer with you for blood or whisky; I'm thirsty."
+
+"Well now," said the policeman, "you be quiet till the doctor comes, and
+I'll go through your valise." After a hasty examination he said: "Damned
+little here, and no revolvers of any kind. Does he eat here?"
+
+"No, he only hires this room."
+
+"Mebbe he don't eat anywhere; he looks to me like a hungry man."
+
+"Dot's what I think," said the maid. "I'll go pring him some soup."
+
+The prisoner calmly said: "Too late now; my stomach is all dried up."
+
+"Haven't you any folks?" the policeman asked.
+
+Harold seemed to pause for thought. "I believe I have, but I can't
+think. Mary could tell you."
+
+"Who's Mary?"
+
+"What's that to you. Bring me some water--I'm burning dry."
+
+"Now keep quiet," said the policeman; "you're sick as a horse."
+
+When the doctor came the policeman turned Harold over to him. "This is a
+case for St. Luke's Hospital, I guess," he said as he went out.
+
+The doctor briskly administered a narcotic as being the easiest and
+simplest way to handle a patient who seemed friendless and penniless.
+"The man is simply delirious with fever. He looks like a man emaciated
+from lack of food. What do you know about him?"
+
+The landlord confessed he knew but little.
+
+The doctor resumed: "Of course you can't attend to him here. I'll inform
+the hospital authorities at once. Meanwhile, communicate with his
+friends if you can. He'll be all right for the present."
+
+This valuable man was hardly gone before a lively young fellow with a
+smoothly shaven, smiling face slipped in. He went through every pocket
+of Harold's clothing, and found a torn envelope with the name "Excell"
+written on it, and a small photo of a little girl with the words, "To
+Mose from Cora." The young man's smile became a chuckle as he saw these
+things, and he said to himself: "Nothing here to identify him, eh?"
+Then to the landlord he said; "I'm from The Star office. If anything new
+turns up I wish you'd call up Harriman, that's me, and let me in on it."
+
+The hospital authorities were not informed, or paid no attention to the
+summons, and Harold was left to the care of the chambermaid, who did her
+poor best to serve him.
+
+The Star next morning contained two columns of closely printed matter
+under the caption, "Black Mose, the Famous Dead Shot, Dying in a West
+Side Hotel. After Years of Adventure on the Trail, the Famous Desperado
+Succumbs to Old John Barley Corn." The article recounted all the deeds
+which had been ascribed to Harold and added a few entirely new ones. His
+marvelous skill with the revolver was referred to, and his defense of
+the red men and others in distress was touched upon so eloquently that
+the dying man was lifted to a romantic height of hardihood and
+gallantry. A fancy picture of him took nearly a quarter of a page and
+was surrounded by a corona of revolvers each spouting flame.
+
+Mrs. Raimon seated at breakfast in the lofty dining room of her hotel,
+languidly unfolded The Star, gave one glance, and opened the paper so
+quickly and nervously her cup and saucer fell to the floor.
+
+"My God! Can that be true? I must see him." As she read the article she
+carried on a rapid thinking. "How can I find him? I must see that
+reporter; he will know." She was a woman of decision. She arose quickly
+and returned to her room. "Call a carriage for me, quick!" she said to
+the bell boy who answered to her call. "No name is given to the hotel,
+but The Star will know. Good Heavens! if he should die!" Her florid face
+was set and white as she took her seat in the cab. "To The Star
+office--quick!" she said to the driver, and there was command in the
+slam of the door.
+
+To the city editor she abruptly said: "I want to find the man who wrote
+this article on 'Black Mose.' I want to find the hotel where he is."
+
+The editor was enormously interested at once. "Harriman is on the night
+force and at home how, but I'll see what I can do." By punching various
+bells and speaking into mysteriously ramifying tubes he was finally able
+to say: "The man is at a little hotel just across the river. I think it
+is called the St. Nicholas. It isn't a nice place; you'd better take
+some one with you. Mind you, I don't vouch for the truth of that
+article; the boy may be mistaken about it."
+
+Mrs. Raimon turned on her heel and vanished. She had her information and
+acted upon it. She was never finer than when she knelt at Harold's
+bedside and laid her hand gently on his forehead. She could not speak
+for a moment, and when her eyes cleared of their tears and she felt the
+wide, dry eyes of the man searching her, a spasm of pain contracted her
+heart.
+
+"He don't know me!" she cried to the slatternly maid, who stood watching
+the scene with deep sympathy.
+
+Harold spoke petulantly: "Go away and tell Mary I want her. It costs too
+much for her to sing, or else she'd come. These people won't let me get
+up, but Reynolds will be here soon and then something will rip wide
+open. They took my guns and my saddle. If I had old Kintuck here I could
+ride to Mary. She said she'd sing for me every Sunday. Look here, I want
+ice on my head. This pillow has been heated. I don't want a hot
+pillow--and I don't want my arms covered. Say, I wish you'd send word to
+old Jack. I don't know where he is, but he'd come--so will Reynolds.
+These policemen will have a hot time keeping me here after they come.
+It's too low here, I must take Mary away--it's healthier in the
+mountains. It ain't so hot----"
+
+Out of this stream of loosely uttered words the princess caught and held
+little more than the names "Jack" and "Mary."
+
+"Who is Jack?" she softly asked.
+
+Harold laughed. "Don't you know old freckle-faced Jack? Why, I'd know
+Jack in the dark of a cave. He's my friend--my old chum. He didn't
+forget me when they sent me to jail. Neither did Mary. She sung for me."
+
+"Can't you tell me Mary's name?"
+
+"Why, it's just Mary, Mary Yardwell."
+
+"Where does she live?"
+
+"Oh, don't bother me," he replied irritably. "What do you want to know
+for?"
+
+The princess softly persisted, and he said: "She lives in the East. In
+Chicago. It's too far off to find her. It takes five days to get down
+there on a cattle train, and then you have to look her up in a
+directory, and then trail her down. I couldn't find her."
+
+The princess took down Mary's name and sent a messenger to try to find
+the address of this woman who was more to the delirious man than all the
+rest of the world.
+
+As he tossed and muttered she took possession of the house. "Is this the
+worst room you have? Get the best bed in the house ready. I want this
+man to have the cleanest room you have. Hurry! Telephone to the Western
+Palace and ask Doctor Sanborn to come at once--tell him Mrs. Raimon
+wants him."
+
+Under her vigorous action one of the larger rooms was cleared out and
+made ready, and when the doctor came Harold was moved, under his
+personal supervision. "I shall stay here till he is out of danger," she
+said to the doctor as he was leaving, "and please ask my maid to go out
+and get some clean bed linen and bring it down here at once--and tell
+her to send Mr. Doris here, won't you?"
+
+The doctor promised to attend to these matters at once.
+
+She sat by the bedside of the sufferer bathing his hands and face as if
+he were a child, talking to him gently with a mother's grave cadences.
+He was now too weak to resist any command, and took his medicine at a
+gulp like a young robin.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Late in the afternoon as Mrs. Raimon returned from an errand to the
+street she was amazed to find a tall and handsome girl sitting beside
+the sick man's bed holding his two cold white hands in both of hers.
+There was a singular and thrilling serenity in the stranger's face--a
+composure that was exaltation, while Harold, with half-closed eyelids,
+lay as if in awe, gazing up into the woman's face.
+
+Mrs. Raimon waited until Harold's eyes closed like a sleepy child's and
+the watcher arose--then she drew near and timidly asked:
+
+"Are you Mary?"
+
+"Yes," was the simple reply.
+
+The elder woman's voice trembled. "I am glad you've come. He has called
+for you incessantly. You must let me help you--I am Mrs. Raimon, of
+Wagon Wheel--I knew him there."
+
+Mary understood the woman's humble attitude, but she did not encourage a
+caress. She coldly replied: "I shall be very grateful. He is very ill,
+and I shall not leave him till his friends come."
+
+She thought immediately of Jack, and sent a telegram saying: "Harold is
+here ill--come at once." She did not know where to reach Mr. Excell, so
+could only wait to consult Jack.
+
+Mrs. Raimon remained with her and was so unobtrusively ready to do good
+that Mary's heart softened toward her--though she did not like her
+florid beauty and her display of jewels.
+
+A telegram from Jack came during the evening: "Do all you can for
+Harold. Will reach him to-night."
+
+He came in at eleven o'clock, his face knotted into anxious lines. They
+smoothed out as his eyes fell upon Mary, who met him in the hall.
+
+"Oh, I'm glad to see you here," he said brokenly. "How is he--is there
+any hope?"
+
+In his presence Mary's composure gave way. "O Jack! If he should die
+now----" She laid her head against his sturdy shoulder and for a moment
+shook with nervous weakness. Almost before he could speak she recovered
+herself. "He only knew me for a few moments. He's delirious again. The
+doctor is with him--oh, I can't bear to hear him rave! It is awful! He
+calls for me, and yet does not know me. O Jack, it makes my heart ache
+so, he is so weak! He came to see me--and then went away--I didn't know
+where he had gone. And all the time he was starving here. O God! It
+would be too dreadful--if he should die!"
+
+"We won't let him die!" he stoutly replied. "I'm going in to see him."
+
+Together they went in. The doctor, intently studying his patient, sat
+motionless and silent. He was a young man with a serious face, but his
+movements were quick, silent, and full of decision. He looked up and
+made a motion, stopping them where they were.
+
+Out of a low mutter at last Harold's words grew distinct: "I don't
+care--but the water is cold as ice--I wouldn't put a cayuse into it--let
+alone Kintuck. Should be a bridge here somewhere."
+
+"Oh, he's on the trail again!" said Mary. "Harold, don't you know me?"
+She bent over to him again and put forth the utmost intensity of her
+will to recall him. "I am here, Harold, don't you see me?"
+
+His head ceased to roll and he looked at her with eyes that made her
+heart grow sick--then a slow, faint smile came to his lips. "Yes--I know
+you, Mary--but the river is between us, and it's swift and cold, and
+Kintuck is thin and hungry--I can't cross now!"
+
+"Doctor," said Jack, as the physician was leaving, "what are the
+chances?"
+
+The doctor's voice carried conviction: "Oh, he'll pull through--he has
+one of the finest bodies I ever saw." He smiled. "He'll cross the river
+all right--and land on our side."
+
+Two days later Mr. Excell, big and brown, his brow also knotted with
+anxiety, entered the room, and fell on his knees and threw his long arm
+over the helpless figure beneath the coverlet. "Harry! My boy, do you
+know me?"
+
+Harold looked up at him with big staring eyes and slowly put out his
+hand. "Sure thing! And I'm not dead yet, father. I'll soon be all right.
+I've got Mary with me. She can cure me--if the doctor can't."
+
+He spoke slowly, but there was will behind the voice. His wasted face
+had a gentleness that was most moving to the father. He could not look
+at the pitiful wreck of his once proud and fearless boy without weeping,
+and being mindful of Harold's prejudice against sentiment, he left the
+room to regain his composure. To Mary Mr. Excell said: "I don't know
+you--but you are a noble woman. I give you a father's gratitude. Won't
+you tell me who you are?"
+
+"I am Mary Yardwell," she replied in her peculiarly succinct speech. "My
+home was in Marmion, but I attended school in your village. I sang in
+your church for a little while."
+
+His face lighted up. "I remember you--a pale, serious little girl. Did
+you know my son there?"
+
+She looked away for a moment. "I sang for him--when he was in jail," she
+replied. "I belonged to the Rescue Band."
+
+A shadow fell again upon the father's face.
+
+"I did not know it," he said, feeling something mysterious
+here--something which lay outside his grasp. "Have you seen him
+meanwhile? I suppose you must have done so."
+
+"Once, in Marmion, some four years ago."
+
+"Ah! Now I understand his visit to Marmion," said Mr. Excell, with a
+sudden smile. "I thought he came to see Jack and me. He really came to
+see you. Am I right?"
+
+"Yes," she replied. "He wanted me to go back with him, but
+I--I--couldn't do so."
+
+"I know--I know," he replied hastily. "He had no right to ask it of
+you--poor boy."
+
+"It seems now as though I had no right to refuse. I might have helped
+him. If he should die now there would be an incurable ache here"--she
+lifted her hand to her throat; "so long as I lived I should not forgive
+myself."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+CONCLUSION
+
+
+As he crawled slowly back to life and clear thinking, Harold's wild
+heart was filled with a peace and serenity of emotion such as it had not
+known since childhood. He was like a boy in a careless dream,
+forecasting nothing, remembering nothing, content to see Mary come and
+go about the room, glad of the sound of her skirts, thrilling under the
+gentle pressure of her hand.
+
+She, on her part, could not realize any part of his dark fame as she
+smiled down into his big yellow-brown eyes which were as pathetic and
+wistful as those of a gentle animal.
+
+Mrs. Raimon spoke of this. "I saw 'Black Mose' as he stood in the
+streets of Wagon Wheel, the most famous dead-shot in the State. I can't
+realize that this is the same man. He's gentle as a babe now; he was as
+terrible and as beautiful as a tiger then."
+
+Reynolds sent fifty dollars with an apology for the delay and Mr. Excell
+offered his slender purse, but Mrs. Raimon said: "I'll attend to this
+matter of expense. Let me do that little for him--please!" And he gave
+way, knowing her great wealth.
+
+But all these things began at last to trouble the proud heart of the
+sick man, and as he grew stronger his hours of quiet joy began to be
+broken by disquieting calculations of his indebtedness to Mrs. Raimon as
+well as to Mary and Jack. He wished to be free of all obligations, even
+gratitude. He insisted on his father's return to his pastorate--which he
+did at the end of the week.
+
+Meanwhile Mary and Jack conspired for the Eagle's good. Together they
+planned to remove him to some fairer quarter of the city. Together they
+read and discussed the letters which poured in upon them from theatrical
+managers, Wild West shows, music halls, and other similar enterprises,
+and from romantic girls and shrewd photographers, and every other
+conceivable kind of crank. The offers of the music halls Jack was
+inclined to consider worth while. "He'd be a great success there, or as
+a dead-shot in a Wild West show. They pay pretty well, too."
+
+"I don't believe he'd care to do anything like that," Mary quietly
+replied.
+
+They both found that he cared to do nothing which involved his remaining
+in the East. As his eyes grew brighter, his longing for the West came
+back. He lifted his arms above his quilts with the action of the eaglet
+who meditates leaping from the home ledge. It was a sorrowful thing to
+see this powerful young animal made thin and white and weak by fever,
+but his spirit was indomitable.
+
+"He must be moved to the West before he will fully recover," said the
+doctor, and to this Mrs. Raimon replied:
+
+"Very well, doctor. You name the day when it is safe and we'll go. I'll
+have a special car, if necessary, but first of all he must go to a good
+hotel. Can't he be moved now?"
+
+Outwardly Mary acknowledged all the kindness of this rich and powerful
+woman, but inwardly she resented her intimacy. Drawing all her little
+store of ready money she quietly began paying off the bills. When all
+was settled she took a seat beside Harold one day when they were alone
+and laying one strong, warm hand on his thin, white arm, she said:
+
+"Harold, the doctor says you can be moved from here, and so--you must
+give me the right to take you home with me."
+
+There was a piercing pathos in his wan smile as he replied, "All right,
+you're the boss. It's a pretty hard come down, though. I thought once
+I'd come back after you in a private car. If you stand by me I may be a
+cattle king yet. There's a whole lot of fight in me still--you watch me
+and see."
+
+The next day he was moved to a private hotel on the north side, and Mary
+breathed a sigh of deep relief as she saw him sink back into his soft
+bed in a clean and sunny room. He, with a touch of his old fire, said:
+"This sure beats a holler log, but all the same I'll be glad to see the
+time when I can camp on my saddle again."
+
+Mary only smiled and patted him like a mother caressing a babe. "I'll
+hate to have you go and leave me--now."
+
+"No danger of that, Mary. We camp down on the same blanket from this
+on."
+
+Mr. Excell came on to marry them, but Jack sent his best wishes by mail;
+he could not quite bring himself to see Mary give herself away--even to
+his hero.
+
+Mrs. Raimon took her defeat with most touching grace. "You're right,"
+she said. "He's yours--I know that perfectly well, but you must let me
+help him to make a start. It won't hurt him, and it'll please me. I have
+a ranch, I have mines, I could give him something to do till he got on
+his feet again, if you'd let me, and I hope you won't deny me a pleasure
+that will carry no obligation with it."
+
+She was powerfully moved as she went in to say good-by to him. He was
+sitting in a chair, but looked very pale and weak. She said: "Mose,
+you're in luck; you've got a woman who'll do you good. She's loyal and
+she's strong, and there's nothing further for me to do--unless you let
+me help you. See here, why not let me help you get a start; what do you
+say?"
+
+Harold felt the deep sincerity of the woman's regard and he said simply:
+
+"All right; let me know what you find, and I'll talk it over with Mary."
+
+She seized his thin hand in both hers and pressed it hard, the tears
+creeping down her cheeks. "You're a good boy, Mose; you're the kind that
+are good to women in ways they don't like, sometimes. I hope you'll
+forget the worst of me and remember only the best. I don't think she
+knows anything about me; if she hears anything, tell her the truth, but
+say I was better than women think."
+
+One day about ten days later a bulky letter came, addressed to "Mose
+Excell." It was from Mrs. Raimon, but contained a letter from Reynolds,
+who wrote:
+
+    "Yesterday a young Cheyenne came ridin' in here inquirin' for
+    you.  I told him you was in Chicago, sick. He brought a
+    message from old Talfeather who is gettin' scared about the
+    cattlemen. He says they're crowdin' onto his reservation, and
+    he wants you to come and help him. He wants you to talk with
+    them and to go to Washington and see the Great Father. He
+    sent this medicine and said it was to draw you to him. He
+    said he was blind and his heart was heavy because he feared
+    trouble. I went up to Wagon Wheel and saw the princess, who
+    has a big pull. She said she'd write you. Kintuck is well but
+    getting lazy."
+
+Mrs. Raimon wrote excitedly:
+
+    "DEAR FRIEND: Here is work for you to do. The agent at Sand
+    Lake has asked to be relieved and I have written Senator
+    Miller to have you appointed. He thought the idea
+    excellent. We both believe your presence will quiet the
+    cattlemen as well as Talfeather and his band. Will you
+    accept?"
+
+As Harold read, his body uplifted and his eyes grew stern. "See here,
+Mary, what do you think of this?" and he read the letter and explained
+the situation. She, too, became tense with interest, but, being a woman
+who thought before she spoke, she remained silent.
+
+Harold, after a moment, arose from his chair, gaunt and unsteady as he
+was. "That's what I'm fitted for, Mary. That solves my problem. I know
+these cattlemen, they know me. I am the white chief of Talfeather's
+people. If you can stand it to live there with me, Mary, I will go. We
+can do good; the women need some one like you to teach 'em to do
+things."
+
+Mary's altruistic nature began to glow. "Do you think so, Harold? Could
+I be of use?"
+
+"Of use? Why, Mary, those poor squaws and their children need you worse
+than they need a God. I know, for I've lived among 'em."
+
+"Then I will go," she said, and out of the gray cloud the sun broke and
+shone from the west across the great lonely plains.
+
+Again "Black Mose" rode up the almost invisible ascent toward the Rocky
+Mountains. Again he saw the mighty snow peaks loom over the faintly
+green swells of the plain, but this time he left nothing behind. The
+aching hunger was gone out of his heart for beside him Mary sat, eager
+as he to see the wondrous mountain land whose trails to her were script
+of epic tales, and whose peaks were monuments to great dead beasts and
+mysterious peoples long since swept away by the ruthless march of the
+white men.
+
+If she had doubts or hesitations she concealed them, for hers was a
+nature fitted for such sacrifice as this--and besides, each day
+increased her love for the singular and daring soul of Harold Excell.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Eagle's Heart, by Hamlin Garland
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