Ben Blair: The Story of a PlainsmanLillibridge, Will
General
Ben Blair: The Story of a Plainsman
Lillibridge, Will
Cowboys -- Fiction; Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Western stories
Scarcely a minute passed before the boy returned. He had another bridle
in his hand and a fresh pan of oats. As before, he started to pass
without a word, but Rankin halted him. "What's the matter with your
clothes, Ben?" he queried.
The lad looked at his questioner. "Horse threw me, sir."
"And what are you going to do now?"
"Going to try to ride him again, sir."
Rankin paused, his face growing momentarily more severe.
"Ben," he said at last, "did Mr. Baker hire you to break his horses? If
I were you I'd put those things away and ask his pardon."
The boy looked from one man to the other uncertainly. Obviously, this
phase of the matter had not occurred to him. Obviously, too, the point
of view must be correct, for both Rankin and Scotty were solemn as the
grave. The lad shot out toward the pasture a glance that spoke volumes;
then he turned to Baker.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he said.
Scotty caught his cue. "Granted--this time," he answered.
A half-hour later, Rankin and Ben, the latter carefully washed, the
rents in his trousers temporarily repaired, were ready to go home. Not
until the very last moment did Florence appear; then, her face a bit
flushed, she came out to the buckboard.
"Good-bye," she said simply. There was a moment's pause; then, with a
deepening color, she turned to Ben Blair. "Come again soon," she added
in a low tone.
CHAPTER VII
THE SANITY OF THE WILD
Summer, tan-colored, musical with note of katydid and cicada, and the
constant purr of the south wind, was upon the prairie country. Under the
eternal law of necessity,--the necessity of sunburnt, stunted
grass,--the boundaries of the range extended far in every direction. The
herds bearing the Box R brand no longer fed in one body, but scattered
far and wide. Often for a week at a time the men did not sleep under
cover. Morning and night, when a semblance of dew was upon the blighted
grass, the cattle grazed. The life was primitive and natural almost
beyond belief in a world of artificial civilization; but it was
independent, care-free, and healthy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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