The Texan: A Story of the Cattle CountryHendryx, James B. (James Beardsley)
General
The Texan: A Story of the Cattle Country
Hendryx, James B. (James Beardsley)
Texas -- Fiction; Western stories
Shivering with cold, the Texan raised himself to a sitting posture.
"Where's Bat?" he asked. "An' why ain't he onsaddled those horses, an'
built a fire? I'm froze stiff."
"Bat has gone to--to find Winthrop," answered the girl, with a painful
catch in her voice. "He wouldn't wait, and I had no matches, and yours
were all wet, and I couldn't loosen the cinches."
Tex passed his hand over his forehead, as if trying to remember, and
his fingers prodded tenderly at his jaw. "I recollect bein' in the
water, an' the pilgrim was there, an' we were scrappin' an' he punched
me in the jaw. He carries a whallop up his sleeve like the kick of a
mule. But what we was scrappin' about, an' where he is now, an' how I
come here, is somethin' I don't savvy."
Step by step the girl detailed what had happened while the Texan
listened in silence. "And now," she concluded, "he's gone. Just
when--" her voice broke and once more she buried her face in her arms.
Tex saw that she was sobbing silently. He felt for his "makings" and
drew from his pocket a little sack of soggy tobacco and some wet
papers. He returned them to his pocket and rose to his feet.
"You're cold," he said softly. "There's dry matches in the pack. I'll
make a fire an' get those wet saddles off the horses."
Alice did not look up and the man busied himself with the pack. A few
minutes later she felt his fingers upon her shoulder. He pointed
toward a fire that crackled cheerfully from the depths of a bull pine
thicket. "I fixed you up a shelter tent and spread your blankets. The
tarp kep' 'em tolerable dry. Go over there an' get off those clothes.
You must be wet through--nothin' short of a divin' suit would have kep'
that rain out!"
"But----"
He forestalled the objection. "There won't be any one to bother you.
I'm goin' down the creek."
The girl noticed that his horse, saddled with Endicott's saddle stood
close behind her.
"I didn't mean that!" she exclaimed. "But you are cold--chilled to the
bone. You need the fire more than I do."
The man shook his head: "I'll be goin' now," he said. "You'd better
make you some coffee."
"You're going to--to----"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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