"Lass, I'm beginnin' to see how big an' fine you are," replied
Belllounds, with strong feeling. "An' it's worryin' me.... My neighbors
hev always accused me of seein' only my son. Only Buster Jack! I was
blind an' deaf as to him!... Wal, I'm not so damn blind as I used to be.
The scales are droppin' off my ole eyes.... But I've got one hope left
as far as Jack's concerned. Thet's marryin' him to you. An' I'm
stickin' to it."
"So will I stick to it, dad," she replied. "I'll go through with October
first!"
Columbine broke off, vouchsafing no more, and soon left the
breakfast-table, to take up the work she had laid out to do. And she
accomplished it, though many times her hands dropped idle and her eyes
peered out of her window at the drab slides of the old mountain.
Later, when she went out to ride, she saw the cowboy Lem working in the
blacksmith shop.
"Wal, Miss Collie, air you-all still hangin' round this hyar ranch?" he
asked, with welcoming smile.
"Lem, I'm almost ashamed now to face my good friends, I've neglected
them so long," she replied.
"Aw, now, what're friends fer but to go to?... You're lookin' pale, I
reckon. More like thet thar flower I see so much on the hills."
"Lem, I want to ride Pronto. Do you think he's all right, now?"
"I reckon some movin' round will do Pronto good. He's eatin' his haid
off."
The cowboy went with her to the pasture gate and whistled Pronto up. The
mustang came trotting, evidently none the worse for his injuries, and
eager to resume the old climbs with his mistress. Lem saddled him,
paying particular attention to the cinch.
"Reckon we'd better not cinch him tight," said Lem. "You jest be careful
an' remember your saddle's loose."
"All right, Lem," replied Columbine, as she mounted. "Where are the boys
this morning?"
"Blud an' Jim air repairin' fence up the crick."
"And where's Ben?"
"Ben? Oh, you mean Wade. Wal, I 'ain't seen him since yestidday. He was
skinnin' a lion then, over hyar on the ridge. Thet was in the mawnin'. I
reckon he's around, fer I seen some of the hounds."
"Then, Lem--you haven't heard about the fight yesterday between Jack and
Wilson Moore?"
Lem straightened up quickly. "Nope, I 'ain't heerd a word."
"Well, they fought, all right," said Columbine, hurriedly. "I saw it. I
was the only one there. Wilson was badly used up before dad and Ben got
there. Ben drove off with him."
"But, Miss Collie, how'd it come off? I seen Wils the other day. Was up
to his homestead. An' the boy jest manages to rustle round on a crutch.
He couldn't fight."
"That was just it. Jack saw his opportunity, and he forced Wilson to
fight--accused him of stealing. Wils tried to avoid trouble. Then Jack
jumped him. Wilson fought and held his own until Jack began to kick his
injured foot. Then Wilson fainted and--and Jack beat him."
Lem dropped his head, evidently to hide his expression. "Wal, dog-gone
me!" he ejaculated. "Thet's too bad."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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