Skyrider Read online

  CHAPTER TWO

  ONE FIGHT, TWO QUARRELS, AND A RIDDLE

  Rolling R ranch lies down near the border of Mexico--near as distancesare counted in Arizona. Possibly a hawk could make it in one flightstraight across that jagged, sandy, spiney waste of scenery which thechance traveler visions the moment you mention southern Arizona, but ifyou wanted to ride to the Border from the Rolling R corrals, you wouldfind the trip a half-day proposition. As to the exact location, nevermind about that.

  The Selmer Stock Company had other ranches where they raised otheranimals, but the Rolling R raised horses almost exclusively, the fewhundred head of cattle not being counted as a real ranch industry, butrather an incidental by-product. Rolling R Ranch was the place SuddenSelmer called home, although there was a bungalow out in the WilshireDistrict in Los Angeles about which Sudden would grumble when the taxnotice came in his mail. There was a big touring car in the garage on theback of the lot, and there was a colored couple who lived in two rooms ofthe bungalow for sake of the fire insurance and as a precaution againstthieves, and to keep the lawn watered and clipped and the dust off thefurniture. They admitted that they had a snap, for they were seldomdisturbed in their leisurely caretaking routine save in the winter. EvenMary V always tired of the place after a month or two in it, and wouldpack her trunk and "hit the trail" for the Rolling R.

  Speaking of Mary V, you would know that a girl with modern upbringinglived a good deal at the ranch. You could tell by the low, green bungalowwith wide, screened porches and light cream trim, that was almost anexact reproduction of the bungalow in Los Angeles. A man and woman whohave lived long together on a ranch like the Rolling R would have gone onliving contentedly in the adobe house which was now abandoned to the soleoccupancy of the boys. It is the young lady of the family who demandsup-to-date housing.

  So the bungalow stood there in the glaring sun, surrounded by a scrap oflawn which the Arizona winds whipped and buffeted with sand and wind allsummer, and vines which the wind tousled into discouragement. And fiftyyards away squatted the old adobe house in the sand, with a tree at eachfront corner and a narrow porch extending from one to the other.

  Beyond the adobe, toward the sheltering bluff, a clutter of low sheds,round-pole corrals, a modern barn of fair size, and beside it a squarecorral of planks and stout, new posts, continued the tale of how progresswas joggling the elbow of picturesqueness. Sudden's father had built theadobe and the oldest sheds and corrals, when he took all the land hecould lawfully hold under government claims. Later he had bought more;and Sudden, growing up and falling heir to it all, had added tract aftertract by purchase and lease and whatever other devices a good politicianmay be able to command.

  Sudden's father had been a simple man, content to run his ranch alongthe lines of least resistance, and to take what prosperity came to himin the natural course of events. Sudden had organized a Company, hadcommercialized his legacy, had "married money," and had made money. Farto the north and to the east and west ran the lines of other greatranches, where sheep were handled in great, blatting bands and yieldeda fortune in wool. There were hills where Selmer cattle were wild asdeer--cattle that never heard the whistle of a locomotive until they weretrailed down to the railroad to market.

  These made the money for Selmer and his Company. But it was the RollingR, where the profits were smaller, that stood closest to Sudden's heart.There was not so much money in horses as there was in sheep; Suddenadmitted it readily enough. But he hated sheep; hated the sound of themand the smell of them and the insipid, questioning faces of them. Andhe loved horses; loved the big-jointed, wabbly legged colts and theround-bodied, anxious mothers; loved the grade geldings and fillies andthe registered stock that he kept close to home in fenced pastures; lovedthe broom-tail bronks that ranged far afield and came in a dust cloudmoiling up from their staccato hoof beats, circled by hoarse, shoutingriders seen vaguely through the cloud.

  There was a thrill in watching a corral full of wild horses milling roundand round, dodging the whispering ropes that writhed here and thereoverhead to settle and draw tight over some unlucky head. There was athrill in the taming--more thrills than dollars, for until the waroverseas brought eager buyers, the net profits of the horse ranch wouldscarcely have paid for Mary V's clothes and school and what she demurelyset down as "recreation."

  But Sudden loved it, and Mary V loved it, and Mary V's mother lovedwhatever they loved. So the Rolling R was home. And that is why theRolling R boys looked upon Mary V with unglamoured eyes, being thoroughlyaccustomed to the sight of her and to the sharp tongue of her and to thefrequent discomfort of having her about.

  They liked her, of course. They would have fought for her if ever theneed of fighting came, just as they would have fought for anything elsein their outfit. But they took her very calmly and as a matter of course,and were not inclined to that worshipful bearing which romancers wouldhave us accept as the inevitable attitude of cowboys toward the daughterof the rancho.

  Wherefore Johnny Jewel was not committing any heinous act of treason whenhe walked past Mary V with stiffened spine and head averted. Johnny wasmad at the whole outfit, and that included Mary V. Indeed, his angerparticularly included Mary V. A young man who has finished high schooland one year at a university, and who reads technical books rather thanfiction and has ambitions for something much higher than his presentcalling,--oh, very much higher!--would naturally object to being calleda witless wight.

  Johnny objected. He had cussed Aleck for repeating the epithet in thebunk house, and he had tried to lick Bud Norris, and had failed. Heblamed Mary V for his skinned knuckles and the cut on his lip, and forall his other troubles. Johnny did not know about the coat, though he hadit on; and if he had known, I doubt whether it would have softened hismood. He was a terribly incensed young man.

  Mary V had let her steps lag a little, knowing that Johnny must overtakeher presently unless he turned short around and went the other way, whichwould not be like Johnny. She had meant to say something that would leadthe conversation gently toward the verses, and then she meant to saysomething else about the difficulty of making two lines rhyme, and thenecessity of using perfectly idiotic words--such as wight. Mary V wasdisgusted with the boys for the way they had acted. She meant to tellJohnny that she thought his verses were very clever, and that she, too,was keen for flying. And would he like to borrow a late magazine she hadin the house, that had an article about the growth of the "game"? MaryV did not know that she would have sounded rather patronizing. Her girlfriends in Los Angeles had filled her head with romantic ideas aboutcowboys, especially her father's cowboys. They had taken it so forgranted that the Rolling R boys must simply worship the ground she walkedon, that Mary V had unconsciously come to believe that adoration was herbirthright.

  And then Johnny stepped out of the trail and passed her as though shehad been a cactus or a rock that he must walk around! Mary V went hotall over, with rage before her wits came back. Johnny had not gone tenfeet ahead of her when she was humming softly to herself a little,old-fashioned tune. And the tune was "Auld Lang Syne."

  Johnny whirled in the trail and faced her, hard-eyed.

  "You're trying to play smart Aleck, too, are yuh?" he demanded. "Whydon't yuh sing the words that's in your mind? Why don't you _try_ to singyour own ideas of poetry? You know as much about writing poetry as I doabout tatting! 'Worry'! 'surrey'! Or did you mean that it should be read'wawry,' 'sorry'?"

  A fine way to talk to the Flower of the Rancho! Mary V looked as thoughshe wanted to slap Johnny Jewel's smooth, boyish face.

  "Of course, you're qualified to teach me," she retorted. "Such doggerel!You ought to send it to the comic papers. Really, Mr. Jewel, I have reada good deal of amateurish, childish attempts at poetry--in the infantclass at school. But never in all my life--"

  "Oh, well, if you ever get out of the infant class, Miss Selmer, you maylearn a few rudimentary rules of metrical composition. I apologize forcriticising your efforts. It is not so bad--for
infant class work." Hesaid that, standing there in the very coat which she had mended for him!

  Mary V turned white; also she wished that _she_ had thought of mentioningthe "rudimentary rules of metrical composition" instead of infantclasses. She smiled as disagreeably as was possible to such humanlykissable lips as hers.

  "No, is it?" she agreed sweetly. "Witless wight was rather good, Ithought. Wight fits you so well."

  "Oh, that!" Johnny turned defensively to a tolerant condescension. "Thatwasn't so bad, if it hadn't shown on the face of it that it was justdragged in to make a rhyme. Do you know what wight means, Miss Selmer?"

  Mary V was inwardly shaken. She had always believed that wight was asynonym for dunce, but now that he put the question to her in that tone,she was not positive. Her angry eyes faltered a little.

  "I see you don't--of course. Used as a noun--you know what a noun is,don't you? It means the name of anything. Wight means a person--anycreature. Originally it meant a fairy, a supernatural being. As anadjective it means brave, valiant, strong or powerful. Or, it used tomean clever."

  "Oh, _you_! I hate the sight of you, you great bully!" Mary V ducked pasthim and ran.

  "I'll help you look it up in the dictionary if you don't know how,"Johnny called after her maliciously, not at all minding the epithetshe had hurled at him. He went on more cheerfully, telling himselfunchivalrously that he had got Mary V's goat, all right. He began towhistle under his breath, until he discovered that he was whistling "AuldLang Syne," and was mentally fitting to the tune the words: "_Before Idie, I'll ride the sky. I'll part the clouds like foam!_"

  He stopped whistling then, but the words went on repeating themselvesover and over in his mind. "And by gosh, I will too," he stateddefiantly. "I'll show 'em, the darned mutts! They can yawp and chortleand call me Skyrider as if it was a joke. That's as much as they know,the ignorant boobs. Why, they couldn't tell an aileron from an elevatorif it was to save their lives!--and still they think I'm crazy and don'tknow anything. Why, darn 'em, they'll _pay money_ some day to see me fly!Boy, I'd like to circle over this ranch at about three or four thousandfeet, and then do a loop or two and volplane right down _at_ 'em! Gosh,they'd be hunting holes to crawl into before I was through with 'em! Iwill, too--"

  Johnny went off into a pet daydream and was almost happy for a littlewhile. Some day the Rolling R boys would be telling with pride how theyused to know Johnny Jewel, the wonderful birdman that had his picture inall the papers and was getting thousands of dollars for exhibitionflights. Tex, Aleck, Bud, Bill--Mary V, too, gol darn her!--would goaround bragging just because they used to know him! And right then he'dsure play even for some of the insults they were handing him now.

  "Mary V Selmer? Let's see--the name sounds familiar, somehow. O-oh! Youmean that little red-headed ranch girl from Arizona? Oh-h, yes! Well,give her a free pass--but I mustn't be bothered personally with her. Thegirl's all right, but no training, no manners. Hick stuff; no class, youunderstand. But give her a good seat, where she can view the getaway."

  Tex, Aleck, Bud, and Bill--little Curley was all right; Curley could havea job as watchman at the hangar. But the rest of the bunch could goggleat him from a distance and be darned to them. Old Sudden too. He'd bekind of nice to old Sudden--nice in an offhand, indifferent kind of way.But Mary V could get down on her _knees_, and he wouldn't be nice to her.He should say not!

  So dreamed Johnny Jewel, all the way to the mail box out by the mainroad, and nearly all the way back again. But then his ears were assailedwith lugubrious singing:

  "An' dlead the Great Bear ho-o-ome, An' dlead the Great Bear hoo-me, I'll brand each star with the Rollin' R, An-n dlead the Great Bear home!"

  That was Bud's contribution.

  "Aw, for gosh sake, _shut up_!" yelled Johnny, his temper rising again.

  From the bungalow, when he passed it on his way to the bunk house, camethe measured thump-thump of a piano playing the same old tune with astress meant to mock him and madden him.

  "Then if she'll smile I'll stop awhile, And kiss her snow-white hand."

  That was Mary V, singing at the top of her voice, and Johnny walkedstiff-backed down the path. He wanted to turn and repeat to Mary V whathe had shouted to Bud, but he refrained, though not from any chivalry,I am sorry to say. Johnny feared that it would be playing into her handtoo much if he took that much notice of her. He wouldn't give her thesatisfaction of knowing he heard her.

  "It would be grand to kiss 'er hand, Her-rr snow-white hand if I had the sand,"

  Bud finished unctuously, adjusting the tune to fit the words.

  Johnny swore, flung open the low door of the bunk house, went in, andslammed it shut after him, and began to pack his personal belongings.Presently Tex came in, warbling like a lovesick crow:

  "I'll cir-cle high 's if pass-in' by, Then vol-lup bank-an' la-a-and--"

  "So will this la-and," Johnny said viciously and threw one of his newriding boots straight at the warbler. "For gosh sake, lay off thatstuff!"

  Tex caught the boot dexterously without interrupting his song, exceptthat he forgot the words and sang ta-da-da-da to the end of the verse.

  "Po'try was wrote to be read," he replied sententiously when he hadfinished. "And tunes was made to be sung. And yo' all oughta be proud todeath at the way yo' all made a hit with yore po'try. It beats what MaryV wrote, Skyrider. If yo' all want to know my honest opinion, Mary V'splumb sore because yo' all made up po'try about Venus instid of abouther." He sat down on a corner of the littered table and began to roll acigarette, jerking his head towards the bungalow and lowering one eyelidslowly. "Girls, I'm plumb next to 'em, Skyrider. I growed up with four of'em. Mary V loves that there Venus stuff, and kissin' her snow-whitehand, same as a cat loves snow. Jealous--that's what's bitin' Mary V."

  Johnny was sorting letters, mostly circulars and "follow up" lettersfrom various aviation schools. He looked up suspiciously at Tex, but Texmanifested none of the symptoms of sly "kidding." Tex was smokingmeditatively and gazing absently at Johnny's suitcase.

  "Yo' all ain't quittin'?" Tex roused himself to ask. "Not over a littlejosh? Say, you're layin' yoreself wide open to more of the same. Yo' allwants to take it the way it's meant, Skyrider. Listen here, boy, if yo'all wants to git away from the ranch right now, why don't yo' all speakfor to stay at Sinkhole camp? Yo' all could have mo' time to write po'tryan' study up on flyin' machines, down there. And Pete, he's aimin' toquit the first. He don't like it down there."

  Johnny dropped the letters back into his suitcase and sat down on theside of his bed to smoke. His was not the nature to hold a grudge, andTex seemed to be friendly. Still, his youthful dignity had been very muchhurt, and by Tex as much as the other boys. He gave him a superciliousglance.

  "I don't know where you get the idea that I'm a quitter," he saidpettishly. "First I knew that a bunch of rough-necks could kid me outof a job. Go down to Sinkhole yourself, if you're so anxious about thatcamp. Furthermore," he added stiffly, "it's nobody's business but minewhat I write or study, or where I write and study. So don't set theretrying to look wise, Tex--telling me what to do and how to do it. Youcan't put anything over on me; your work is too raw. Al-to-gether tooraw!"

  He glanced sidewise at a circular letter he had dropped, picked it upand began reading it slowly, one eye squinted against the smoke of hiscigarette, his manner that of supreme indifference to Tex and all hiskind. Johnny could be very, very indifferent when he chose.

  He did not really believe that Tex was trying to put anything over onhim; he just said that to show Tex he didn't give a darn one way or theother. But Tex seemed to take it seriously, and glowered at Johnny fromunder his black eyebrows that had a hawklike arch.

  "What yo' all think I'm trying to put over? Hey? What yo' all mean bythat statement?"

  Johnny looked up, one eye still squinted against the smoke. The othershowed surprise back of the indifference. "You there yet?" he wanted toknow. "What's the big idea? Gone to roost for t
he night?"

  Tex leaned toward him, waggling one finger at Johnny. The outer end ofhis eyebrows were twitching--a sign of anger in Tex, as Johnny knew well.

  "What yo' all got up yore sleeve--saying my work is raw! What yo' allaimin' at? That's what I'm roostin' here to learn."

  Johnny fanned away the smoke and gave a little chuckle meant toexasperate Tex, which it did.

  "I guess the roosting's going to be pretty good," he said. "You bettersend cookee word to bring your meals to yuh, Tex. Because if you roostthere till I tell yuh, you'll be roosting a good long while!" He got upand lounged out, his hands in his pockets, his well-shaped head carriedat a provocative tilt. He heard Tex swear under his breath and muttersomething about making the darned little runt come through yet, whereatJohnny grinned maliciously.

  Halfway to the corral, however, Johnny's steps slowed as though he werewalking straight up to a wall. The wall was there, but it was mental, andit was his mind that halted before it, astonished.

  What had touched Tex off so suddenly when Johnny had flung out thatmeaningless taunt? Meaningless to Johnny--but how about Tex?

  "Gosh! He took it like a guilty conscience," said Johnny. "What thehorn-toad has Tex been doin'?"