United States -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"If he has double-crossed me," returned the older man, "I'm in no shape
to handle him just now. He never came back to meet you till he'd turned
the herd over to an accomplice. In any case, I lose on this trick."
"But he didn't know you were going to meet up with a bull!"
"No, but he was going to keep us away from the corral, somehow. You
remember he said he'd come back to get us to help him bring in some
steers. Of course, you and he might be in cahoots on this, but Scott's
tricky so I'm giving you some of the benefits of the doubt." Charleton
turned in his saddle to favor Douglas with a suspicious stare.
"I didn't double-cross you, Charleton," said Douglas, not without a
simple dignity that may or may not have impressed his mentor. At any
rate, Charleton made no reply.
Douglas was entirely deflated. He drooped dejectedly in the saddle,
guiding the stiff and weary Moose without interest. His wonderful
expedition by which he was to establish his standing as a man with his
father and Judith had ended in ignominy. He watched Charleton's painfully
rigid back but he did not dare to speak to him until they were nearly
home. As they neared the edge of the first line, the ground became
tapestried with lilies, yellow, white and crimson. Tree-trunks turned
blue against the blue skies that belled over the valley. As they
descended, the Forest Reserve lifted gradually, a black green sea beyond
the burning brown level of the ranches. But Douglas was in no frame of
mind either to seek or to see beauty. He had a guilty sense that
Charleton believed that he had failed him, and finally he summoned
courage to call, "Doggone it, Charleton! I wanted to put it over, don't
you suppose?"
Charleton did not answer, and when they crossed the canyon back of
Rodman's, Douglas, hurt and resentful, turned the Moose onto the home
trail. He had gone almost beyond hailing distance before Charleton
called, "Come down and see me soon, old cattle rustler!"
Instantly Doug's spirits soared. He waved his hand with a grin and put
the Moose to a trot.
It was supper time when he clanked into the kitchen. His father and
mother were at the table.
"You're early, Doug!" exclaimed John.
Doug nodded. "Where's Judith?"
"Keeping that mysterious date of hers. Maud, of course! She won't be home
till late. I hope it's not with Inez. You look tired, Doug."
"I am. Jude makes me sick. She's harder to watch than a boy!"
John laughed enigmatically and went out to finish his chores. Shortly,
Douglas followed him and told the story of the miscarried adventure.
"I told Charleton not to let Scott in on it," exclaimed John. "Serves him
right. I sure got the laugh on Charleton this time."
"He's awful sore! Acts kind of suspicious of me," said Douglas ruefully.
"A guy like Charleton don't even trust himself." John pitched down a
forkful of hay. "Have you any idea what Maud and Jude are up to?"
"No, sir. Are you worried about her?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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