Following the Grass Read online

  “And God may give you further sign of His will. The drought is bringing suffering to all. Because of it, men who have been enemies must become friends. To live, they will have to ask help of each other. I—I do not despair, Joseph If you love me you will sacrifice your own ends. Not for me, but for these others. It is not too late. God will send you some sign if it is to be.”

  Joseph smiled faintly at her earnestness.

  “You hope for the impossible, Necia,” he said. “Would you build a wall between us?”

  “But if it should come?” she demanded. “If God should send you some sign?”

  Necia held out her hands beseechingly and Joseph, torn as he had never been, knew not how to answer. Whole minutes passed without a sound from him. The panorama of his life passed before his eyes. There could be no future without her. Come what may, he must not lose Necia Dorr. He knew she endowed him with qualities he did not possess. That any sign could come to him, he doubted. He was not an apostle. But if God should send him some sign?—some miracle?

  Necia watching him saw a shadow cross his face. She thought his eyes softened. His mouth lost its severity. His arms opened for her.

  “If it comes,” he said, the words dropping slowly from his lips. “If it does, I will accept it. I will not deny it.”

  With a cry of gladness she felt his arms embrace her. Her faith in him was more than sublime. She did not doubt that the Divine Providence would answer her prayer. In some way Joseph would receive God’s message.

  She was only dimly conscious of his repeated good-nights. She felt his lips brushing hers and then he was walking toward his fire. She stood and watched him as he strode away, Grimm strutting along behind him.

  A peace she had never known came to her.Joseph was so erect, so unafraid—going out to guard her! A strange warmth suffused her as she entered the dug-out. She stopped and glanced back through the window at him sitting beside the fire, gazing into its embers.

  Tears flooded her eyes as she turned away.Since childhood she had been dreaming her dreams alone. Her gentle nature had missed the companionship of a mother. TheCircle-Z functioned in a strictly man-world, and she had had to mold herself accordingly.

  Even so, she had been a softening influence on the lives of those hardy men who rode for her grandfather, but they would not have understood the tears which dimmed her eyes as she got to her knees. Nor would they have understood her prayer, for it was such an outpouring of soul as could come from only a girl whose heart had been starved, shut in.

  It was not for Necia to know that Joseph stirred uneasily beside his fire, the memory of her on him. He had no thought of sleep. Strangely, he started when even a jack-rabbit moved out in the sage, but if the night-sounds caused him alarm it was only because of Necia. The fact that he was there guarding her, watching over her as she slept, peering out into the darkness beyond the circle of his fire aroused in him quite the same feeling that possessed primordial man back in the dim beginning as he squatted before the cave in which his mate had sought shelter.

  He willed himself to put behind him any doubt of the future. Each day must be sufficient unto itself. The promise he had given Necia he would abide by, come what would. Any lingering doubt of this was stripped from him as he sat there.

  Grimm seemed to sense his thought and, ruffling his feathers, he drew his head in and clacked his tongue with the very effect of a short chuckle. Joseph glanced at him shrewdly.

  “Grimm,” he muttered, “I almost believe you read me. What have you to say?”

  The crow moved his eyes slowly and with a look of great wisdom began to walk around the fire. He stopped all of a sudden and without warning let out a shrill: “Ca-w-w-w !”

  Joseph snapped erect.Some one was coming! He could not question Grimm. He called a warning to Necia and backed away from the fire.

  Only one reason could bring a man up the mountain to-night. His jaws clicked at the thought. No man must come between Necia and him! Whatever the cost, there was no altering that.

  There, beneath the stars, he would fight his battle for her. Waiting,hands clenched, he assumed the rôle for which his God had created him—the defender of his mate!

  CHAPTER XIX.

  NIGHT FALLS.

  WHEN noontime passed without any sign of Necia, Thad and Angel had begun to ask questions, and as the afternoon wore away the old Basque became more and more reluctant to face Thad’s wrathful eyes. But the sight of him staring moodily across the desert at the mountain only infuriated the ranchman the more.

  “I shouldn’t never let her go,” he snapped, and glared at Angel daring him to deny his words. Getting no answer, he marched out and rang the ranch bell, ordering his horse to be saddled.

  “I ain’t goin’ to wait much longer,” he growled when he came back to the house. “If she ain’t here by dark, I’m a-goin’ up there to get her.”

  The Basque scowled and got up and went outside muttering to himself.He was fully as much alarmed as Thad, but his agitation sprang from a fear that was no part of the old cattleman’s anxiety. The question that obsessed Angel grew with the passing minutes, and when he heard Thad come to the door half an hour later, he turned to him excitedly.

  “It is five O’clock,” he exclaimed. “It is absurd to think it has taken her all this time to deliver our message. Do you suppose—that he has won her over?—that she has taken his side against us?”

  “Are you mad, man?” Thad screamed. “I know that girl. She’s nobody’s fool. They ain’t no turn-coats in my family.”

  “But he is no ordinary man,” Angel replied, truculently. “I have begun to feel that it is possible for him to do anything.”

  “Talk—talk—talk!” Thad shouted.

  “Yes—? Well, señor, I have seen him perform a miracle.”

  “What?—this dry spell?”

  “No! Yesterday he led—led, not drove—three hundred sheep from the ranger’s cabin on Powder Creek to my rancho. He had no dogs. It was hot. The pinguey grows thick along that trail, but not one of that flock ate it.

  “Yes, and he corralled them, bedded them down, in ten minutes. No one helped him. Those ewes licked his hand. They called for him when he went away.

  “And you—you have seen that coyote—a wild coyote, the breed we have always fought, the kind that has killed my sheep and pulled down your calves since we first came—you have seen him gentled, tamed, taught to herd flock.

  “And that crow—that horrible crow—he has made him wiser than either of us. You know I speak the truth.”

  “That don’t scare me,” Thad declared emphatically, deceiving himself in his anger. “You got somethin’ to fear him for; I ain’t. He’s just a man to me. It ain’t my way to tell folks where to head in, but you have been ridin’ herd on that boy, and on his maw before him, a long time. If you tremble now, that’s your business.

  “You came to me to help git rid of him. And we’ll do it; but if you want me to string along with you, don’t you put too much store in him tamin’ animals.

  “If you knew my girl as I do, you’d waste no time gabberin’ about him turnin’ her against me. I was pretty hard on her to-day, but she knows that’s my way—that I got to do a little rantin’ when folks try to cross me.”

  Angel was at no pains to conceal his contempt for his ally.

  “Why does she not return then?” he inquired cuttingly.

  “He’s got her held a prisoner, that’s why!” and Thad cursed violently. “He ain’t a-goin’ to move off without a fight. If you ain’t blind, you must see what he’s plannin’ to do. He’s a-gain’ to hold her over my head—the damn gospel shark! I reckon I’ll stop him short. He’ll find he’s dealin’ with a man that won’t be stopped by any side-show tricks. Soon as it gits dusk, I’m a-goin’ to steal up there—and I’m a-goin’ armed.”

  “But he will know you are coming. I will go with you—and we will go unarmed. We can not surprise him. The crow will warn him.”

  “Well, we’ll go,
crow or no crow, and we’ll go armed! My good name is at stake. No man’s ever had cause to question the wimmen of my family. God help him if he’s put a hand on her. I ain’t too old to use a gun.”

  “Yes, but guns are not popular to-day, my friend.”

  “If I was younger—if I was the man I used to be, there’d be no talk of guns. I’d go up there with my bare fists and git her.”

  “But you are old—and I am old—and this is a young man’s job."

  ” “There’s no denyin’ that,” Thad admitted. Angel had no desire to face Joseph, and he hastened to take advantage of what he thought might be wavering on Thad’s part.

  “You—have your men,” he prompted.

  “Hell! My men!” Thad exclaimed contemptuously. “They think he’s an apostle. What of your sons? Where’s Andres?”

  Angel hung his head.

  “He whipped Andres yesterday morning. That is why he came with Andres’s flock.”

  “That boy whipped Andres?” Thad demanded incredulously. “A man twice his size?”

  “It is no use to deny it,” Angel answered. “Andres could not walk.”

  “Well, it wa’n’t a fair fight, I’ll bet!” old Thad exclaimed. “It ain’t possible. I’ve seen Andres fight. God, if he was only here now. I know him; I bet he’s achin’ to git even. He’d be the one to go up Buckskin. He’d git Necia—where’s he at?”

  The Basque shook his head at the implied thought.

  “He is at the ranger’s cabin or nearby,” he said wearily.

  “I can git him,” Thad declared confidently. “My fencin’ gang is camped out between Heaton’s place and the stage-station on Powder Creek. They’s a ’phone to the station. Duval will send word to my men. They’ll git in touch with Andres. I’ll tell ’em to let him have a horse. He can git here in two hours.”

  “It will soon be night,” Angel demurred.

  “All the more reason that we shouldn’t stand here wastin’ time. You ain’t backin’ down, be yuh? You was anxious enough to have me send Necia up there. We’re a-goin to go through with this play now.”

  “I have not changed my mind,” Angel flashed back, his eyes snapping under Thad’s lashing.

  “Well, shall I git Andres?”

  “Yes—if he will come. This thing might as well be settled to-night. Tell him I said he should come.”

  Thad left Angel staring up at Buckskin, a gray blur in the deepening twilight, while he went in to telephone. The instrument was one of the old-fashioned kind on which it was necessary for the party calling to ring for central, and Thad spun the little handle savagely. The din brought Little Billy, the cook, to the dining-room door.

  “Sumthin’ wrong?” he demanded, with the privilege of a trusted man-at-arms.

  “If they ain’t, they’s a-goin’ to be if you ain’t out of here directly. What you standin’ there gabbin’ about?”

  “Miss Necia—”

  Thad slammed the receiver down.

  “Say!” he roared. “Don’t you be spillin’ that to the boys. You’ll have less hair than you got now and no job if you do. You git me?”

  Little Billy grinned. He understood the symptoms. Something was decidedly amiss. He nodded his answer.

  “Then git!” Thad shouted, turning back to the telephone.

  He had no trouble in getting in touch with his men, but the forty minutes which passed before he heard the bell ring, announcing that the Powder Creek station was calling, reduced him to a state bordering on nervous exhaustion. The word which he received cheered him. Andres had left the ranger’s cabin at noon on foot for the valley. He was going by way of Antelope Springs. That meant that he would be passing the Circle-Z ranch-house in the next hour.

  Thad ran out to tell Angel, but as he approached the old Basque he stopped suddenly, for Angel was staring wide-eyed at two spots of fire twinkling far up the side of Buckskin. Thad felt the man’s fingers tighten on his arm.

  “See!” he pointed. “Two fires—his and hers. Your granddaughter is not a prisoner.”

  Thad’s mouth popped open as he sensed the meaning of the twin fires. He swallowed deeply, a queer sound rumbling in his throat.

  “It is an act of Providence,” he mumbled, and Angel stared at him, at a loss to understand his meaning. “Andres left the ranger’s cabin at noon,” Thad went on then. “He’ll be here within the hour. Told Heaton he was comin’ to find him—Joseph! God!—he can’t come too soon.”

  CHAPTER XX.

  FATHER AND SON.

  ANDRES came in due time, and he was surprised to find his father awaiting him. The son’s face was still swollen and discolored from the beating he had received.

  Thad stared at him, reading in his appearance the true story of the man’s encounter with Joseph. The old cowman was still loath to admit the truth, but in the face of such evidence he could not deny it, and he pursed his lips nervously, his confidence in Andres’s ability to rescue Necia undeniably shaken.

  Angel spoke to his son in Basque, and Andres replied to him in the same tongue. Thad waited, thinking each was intent only on explaining his presence there, but as they ran on without any sign of consulting him, he exclaimed sharply:

  “That’s enough of that lingo. We’ll talk English, so I can git a word in.”

  “I was asking him about his trouble with the boy,” Angel said in an effort to appease Thad. “He says he was whipped fairly.”

  “How’d he do it?” Thad demanded. “You weigh nigh two hundred, Andres.”

  “I lose my head,” answered Andres. “But eet ees my fault. I was wrong. I should not make Felipe try to ride those horse. I bear no grudge, though.”

  Angel and Thad flashed a glance at each other.

  “Why I thought you was out to git him,” Thad exclaimed. “I called up the station an hour back. We was lookin’ for you. Heard you’d told Heaton you was comin’ back lookin’ for Joseph.”

  Thad had not yet explained his present interest in him, and Andres, remembering the past, answered sullenly:

  “Mebbe that ees so, señor.”

  “You ain’t any too certain about it, be yuh? You ain’t afraid of him?”

  Andres grinned in a way that made Thad draw back.

  “No,” he muttered, “I—understand heem.”

  “You understand him,” Thad repeated. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean—I know hee ees my friend,” Andres replied slowly, his face hardly less unlovely, for all that his eyes softened. “I have come to ask heem to take my hand.”

  “What?” Thad and Angel uttered the ejaculation as one man. Bewildered, momentarily crushed by what they had just heard, they dropped into their chairs, speech denied them. Could it be that this was their champion, the man for whom they had waited, the one who was to do their work this night—who was to drive Joseph away and restore Necia to her grandfather?

  Andres glanced from one to the other, not understanding their bafiled look. Anger began to surge in Thad and his face purpled, but Angel’s was the color of chalk.

  “Eet ees a surprise, eh?” the big man queried, not overly pleased with them.

  “You—you’re the man I sent for,” Thad managed to utter at last. “Bah!” and he accompanied the exclamation with a frightful curse. “My girl’s up there!” he roared. “My girl—hoodwinked by him—fooled by his fancy talk. You was to git her for me. She wouldn’t be there if your father hadn’t come with his palaver. He talked me into sendin’ her; anythin’ to git rid of that boy.”

  Thad raised his fist and shook it at Angel. “Look at him now—shakin’ as if he’d seen a ghost. And you—tellin’ me you’re a-goin’ to ask Joseph to forgive you! Say! Where do I git off?” Thad banged the table with his fist, his voice rising with rage. “Are you just a-goin’ to sit here?”

  Angel shook his head weakly.

  “It is as I told you,” he murmured; “First your girl, and now my son. One by one that boy wins them. You mocked me, but I spoke the truth. He’s in
league with the devil. I can feel him fastening on to me.”

  Angel got up, his hands working nervously. “I was against you this afternoon when you talked of going up there armed. Well, I won’t stop at anything now. He’s got to go. You let me talk to Andres. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  “Well, you’d better talk some sense into him,” Thad retorted. He got up and started to leave the room, but he came back and opened his safe. Andres had dropped into a chair beside the table. Thad went up to him, a stack of twenty dollar gold pieces in his hand.

  “I don’t know how many’s there,” he exclaimed. “I’ve got more if I need ’em. I drove Necia away from this house. I want her back before midnight—and no talk.” He spread the gold pieces in front of Andres. “Take ’em,” he muttered, “but you git Necia for me.”

  The big fellow’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the gold, but he made no effort to scoop them up, and as Thad left the room, Andres lifted the red cloth which covered the table and dropped it over the money as if desirous of removing the temptation. His father drew up a chair and studied him.

  “My son,” he began in Basque, “we are back to-night where we were twenty years ago. You have said you came to find this boy, to ask him to forgive you.”

  “That is true,” Andres answered, slouching further down in his chair.

  “No—no, Andres. It can not be. Do you know that he is the boy Kincaid said had died—that he is Joseph Gault?”

  “Joseph Gault?” Andres barely whispered the name. Instantly his mind flashed back to what the boy had said to him. A haggard look crept into his eyes. His father saw his mouth twitch.

  “There is no need of your answering,” said he. “You must know what he has come back to do.”

  “Dorr?” Andres breathed.

  “It is his chief reason. Dorr’s daughter is up there with him. He won her over. This man, Taylor, is blind. The girl is in love with that man. I saw it when they met here a week ago. The boy hopes to hurt me, too. I feel it wherever I turn, but I tremble more for you, Andres. Did he say nothing to you?”