Racially mixed people -- Fiction; Western stories; Wyoming -- Fiction
And there were the children. Through all her frantic search for things
in the house, Judith remembered that she must step softly and not waken
the children. With each turn of the screw, as her numbed consciousness
rallied and responded afresh to the hideous realization of this thing,
there came no release from the tyrannous hold of petty detail. She
remembered that she must be back at noon to hold post-office, and there
would be the endless comedy to be played once more with her cavaliers.
They must never suspect from word or look of hers. And there was the
dance to-night at the Benton ranch—she hid her face in her hands. Ah,
no, she could not do this thing! And yet they must not suspect. She
must contrive to give the impression that Jim had cheated the rope.
Yes, she must go and dance, and, if need be, dance with his very
murderers. Jim’s children were to have the “clean start” that he
intended, and they would have to get it here. There was no money for an
exodus and a beginning elsewhere.
Alida still crouched beside the long, even tarpaulin roll that Judith
had prepared with hands that knew not what they did. But now Judith
gently roused her and put in her hand a spade; already she herself had
begun. But Alida stared at it dully, as if she did not understand. Then
Judith pointed to something black that had begun to wheel in the sky,
wheel, and with each circular swoop come closer to the roll of
tarpaulin. Then Alida knew, and, taking the spade, she and Judith began
to dig the grave.
XX.
The Ball
The dance in the Benton ranch was the great social event of the
midsummer season. The Bentons had begun to give dances in the days of
plenty, when the cattle industry had been at its dizziest height; and
they had continued to give dances through all the depressing
fluctuations of the trade, perhaps in much the same spirit as one
whistles in the dark to keep up his courage. Thus, though cattle fell
and continued to fall in the scale of prices till the end no man dared
surmise, the Benton “boys”—they were two brothers, aged respectively
forty-five and fifty years—continued to hold out facilities to dance
and be merry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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