Rim o' the World Page 3

  CHAPTER THREE

  MARY HOPE DOUGLAS APPEARS

  Devil's Tooth ridge, which gave the Lorrigan ranch its name, wasreally a narrow hogback with a huge rock spire at one end. Crudely itresembled a lower jaw bone with one lone tooth remaining. Threehundred feet and more the ridge upthrust its barren crest, and thewagon road from the ranch crawled up over it in many switchbacks andsharp turns, using a mile and a half in the climbing. They called itthe "dug road." Which meant that teams and scrapers and dynamite andmuch toil had been necessary in the making, distinguishing it frommost Black Rim roads, which followed the line of least resistanceuntil many passings had worn a definite trail; whereupon that trailbecame an established thoroughfare legalized by custom and not to belightly changed for another.

  Over in the next valley, beyond Devil's Tooth ridge, AlexanderDouglas had made a ranch for himself and his family. Aleck Douglas wasas Scotch as his name. He shaved his long upper lip, so that itlooked longer and more uncompromising than was necessary even tomatch the Aleck Douglas disposition. His hair was wiry and stood upfrom a forehead that might be called beetling. His eyebrows were heavyand came so near to meeting that Mary Hope used to wish that shedared lay one small finger between father's eyebrows, just to see ifthere would be room. His eyes were as close together as his thinbeak of a nose would permit, and his ears were long and narrow and setflat against his head. He was tall and he was lank and he was honestto his last bristling hair. He did not swear--though he could witherone with vituperative epithets--and he did not smoke and he did notdrink--er--save a wee nip of Scotch "whusky" to break up a cold,which frequently threatened his hardy frame. He was harshlyreligious, and had there been a church in the Black Rim country youwould have seen Aleck Douglas drive early to its door every Sundaymorn, and sit straight-backed in a front pew and stare hard at theminister through the longest of sermons,--providing, of course, thatchurch and minister were good Presbyterian.

  He loved the dollars, how he did love his dollars! He loved hiscattle, because they represented dollars. He nursed them, dollars andanimals alike, and to lose one wrung the heart of him.

  His wife was a meek little thing in his presence, as the wives of suchmen as Aleck Douglas usually are. She also was rigidly honest,dogmatically religious and frugal and hard-working and intolerant ofthe sins of others.

  Early she taught Mary Hope that beyond Devil's Tooth ridge lived thosewicked Lorrigans, whose souls were bartered to the devil and whoseevil ways were a stench in the nostrils of God. Mary Hope used towonder if God turned up his nose when there was a stench in hisnostrils,--for instance, when Belle Lorrigan hurtled past with herbronks and her buckboard and her yellow hair flying. Mary Hopewondered, too, what the Lorrigan boys had got from the devil inexchange for their souls. Some magic, perhaps, that would protect themfrom death and accident. Yet that seemed not true, for Al Lorriganbroke his leg, one spring round-up. The devil ought to have saved hishorse from falling down with him, if the devil had Al Lorrigan'ssoul.

  That had happened when Mary Hope was twelve and Al Lorrigan waseighteen. She heard her father tell her mother about it; and herfather had set his whiskered lip against his long, shaven upper lipalmost with a smack.

  "They'll come to a bad end, all of them," he declared sententiously."Violent deaths had all the Lorrigans before them--all save Tom, andthe Lord but stays his hand for a time from that man. The wicked shallflourish as a green bay tree."

  "Father, how can a tree be green and then bay too!" Mary Hopeventured to inquire. "Is it just a Bible tree, or does it flourishsomewhere really?"

  Aleck Douglas hid his month behind his palm and coughed. "'Tis not baylike a horse, child. 'Tis not the color that I'm speaking of."

  "That painted Jezebel, Belle Lorrigan, drove past the house to-daywithin a stone's throw," Mrs. Douglas informed her husband. "I wush,Aleck, that ye would fence me a yard to keep the huzzy from drivingover my very doorstep. She had that youngest brat of hers in the seatwith her--that Lance. And as they went past on the keen gallop--andthe horses both in a lather of sweat--the boy impudently shook hisfist at me where I was glancing from my window. And his mother lookitand laughed, the Jezebel!"

  "Mother, Lance only waved his hand."

  "And why should Lance be waving his hand when he should pass thehouse? Did he think that a Douglas would come so low as to wave at aLorrigan?"

  Mary Hope ducked her sleek little pig-tailed head outside the door andshooed vehemently at a dingy black hen that happened to be passing.Mary Hope knew that a Douglas had stooped so low as to wave back atLance Lorrigan, but it seemed unwise to tell her mother so.

  When Mary Hope was permitted to have a gentle old cow-pony of her own,she rode as often as she dared to Devil's Tooth ridge. By short cutsdown certain washes which the trail avoided with many winding detours,she could lope to the foot of the ridge in forty minutes by the oldalarm clock which she carried one day in her arms to time the trip.She could climb by another shortcut trail, to the Devil's Tooth intwenty minutes. She could come down in fifteen, she discovered. In athree-hour ride she could reach the-Devil's Tooth, spend a whole hourlooking down upon the ranch house of the wicked Lorrigans, and ridehome again. And by choosing the short cuts she practically eliminatedthe chance of being observed.

  If she could see Belle go tearing down the trail with her bronks andher buckboard she would be horrifiedly happy. The painted Jezebelfascinated Mary Hope, who had read all about that wicked woman in theBible, and had shivered in secret at her terrible fate. Belle Lorriganmight never be eaten by dogs, since dogs are few in cattleland and arekept strictly at home, but if Mary Hope's mother was any trueprophetess, the painted Jezebel's final doom would be quite ashorrible.

  At the infrequent parties which the Douglas household countenanced,--suchas Christmas trees and Fourth of July picnics, Mary Hope would sit andstare fixedly at Belle Lorrigan and wonder if all painted Jezebelswere beautiful and happy and smiling. If so, why was unadorned virtueto be commended? Mary tried not to wish that her hair was yellow and hungin curls, and that she had even white teeth and could sing and dance sowonderfully that everything stopped and every one looked and listenedfrom the minute she began until she stopped.

  More than anything else in her starved young life, Mary Hope wanted tosee the inside of the Lorrigan house. The painted Jezebel had a realpiano, and she could play it, people said. She played ungodly songs,but Mary Hope had a venturesome spirit. She wanted to see aninstrument of the devil, hear the painted Jezebel play on it and singher ungodly songs.

  One day when she had ridden to the top of the Devil's Tooth a great,daring plan came to her. She wanted to ride down there--a half miledown the bluff, a mile and a half by the road--but she would neverdare take that trail deliberately. Her father might hear of it, or hermother. Nor could she ask the Lorrigans not to tell of her visit. Butif her horse ran away with her and took her down the ridge, she couldask them to please not tell her father, because if he knew that herhorse ran away he would not let her ride again. It seemed to Mary Hopethat all the Lorrigans would sympathize with her dilemma. They wouldprobably ask her into the house. She would see the piano, and shecould ask the painted Jezebel to play on it. That would be onlypolite. It did seem a shame that a girl thirteen years old, going onfourteen, should never have seen or heard a piano. Mary Hope looked atthe sun and made breathless calculation. Having just arrived at theDevil's Tooth, she had an hour to spend. And if she took the steep,winding trail that the Lorrigans rode, the trail where old manLorrigan's horse had fallen down with him, she could be at the housein a very few minutes.

  "Ye look little enough like a runaway horse, ye wind-broken, spavinedold crow-bait, you!" she criticized Rab as he stood half asleep in thesun. "I shall have to tell a lee about you, and for that God maywither the tongue of me. I shall say that a rattler buzzed beneathyour nose--though perhaps I should say it was behind ye, Rab, elsethey will wonder that ye didna run away home. If ye could but lift anear and roll the eye of you, wild-like, pe
rhaps they will believe me.But I dinna ken--I wouldna believe it mesel!"

  Rab waggled an ear when she mounted, switched his tail pettishly whenshe struck him with the quirt, reluctantly obeyed the rein, and sethis feet on the first steep pitch of the Devil's Tooth trail. Old ashe was, Rab had never gone down that trail and he chose his footingcircumspectly. It was no place for a runaway, as Mary Hope speedilydiscovered when she had descended the first dip and entered the cleftwhich the Lorrigans called the Slide.

  A slide it was, and down it Rab slid on his rump. An old watercourse,with sheer rock walls that formed the base of the Tooth itself. Hadthere been room Mary Hope would have turned back. But the cleft was sonarrow that a pack horse must be adept at squeezing past protuberancesand gauging the width of its pack if it would travel the trail. Asharp turn presently showed her the end of the cleft, and they emergedthankfully upon a sage-grown shelf along which the trail proceededmore gently.

  Then came another cleft, with great boulders at the end, which a horsemust negotiate carefully if he would not break a leg or two. It washere that old Tom Lorrigan had died under his horse before help camethat way. But Rab had covered many rough trails, and he picked his wayover the boulders safely,--though not as a runaway horse should havetraveled.

  After that there came a treacherous bit of shale, across which MaryHope thought it best to lead her runaway steed which refused for atime to venture farther. Being a Douglas she was obstinate. Beingobstinate, she would not turn back, especially since the trail wouldbe even worse in the climbing than it was in the descent. Rab, sherealized worriedly, could not slide up that narrow, rock-bottomedcleft down which he had coasted so readily.

  "They must be devil horses that ride this way, Rab," she sighed whenshe had remounted on the lower margin of the shale. "And the Lorrigansna doot have magic. But I dinna think that even they could run awaydown it."

  She struck Rab sharply with the quirt and dug in her heels. If Rab wasto run it must be immediately, for the level valley lay just below andthe Lorrigan house was around the next point of the hill.

  Rab would not run. He stopped abruptly and kicked with both feet. MaryHope struck him again, a little harder, and Rab kicked again, moreviciously. The trail was much better for kicking than for running, butMary Hope would not accept the compromise, and at last Rab yielded tothe extent of loping cautiously down the last steep declivity. When hereached level ground he laid back his ears and galloped as fast as hisstiffened shoulders would let him. So Mary Hope very nearly achieved adashing pace as she neared the corrals of the wicked Lorrigans.

  "Well! Yuh traveling, or just goin' somewhere?" A young voice yelledat her as she went past the stable.

  "My horse--is--he rinned away wi' me!" screamed Mary Hope, herpigtails snapping as Rab slowed up and stopped.

  "He rinned away wi' you? When? You musta been purty young for ridingwhen _that_ horse rinned away!" Lance came toward her, grinning andslapping his hat against his fringed chaps before he set it upon hishead; an uncommonly handsome head, by the way, with the Lorrigan'sdark eyes and hair and his mother's provocative mouth. "Well, seeingyour horse ain't going to rin no further, you might as well git downand stay awhile."

  "I will not. I didna come to visit, if you please."

  Mary Hope's cheeks were hot but confusion could not break her Scotchspirit.

  "Want to borrow something?" Lance stood looking at her with muchenjoyment. A girl in short skirts was fair game for any one's teasing,especially when she blushed as easily as did Mary Hope. "Want toborrow a horse that will rin away wi' you."

  "Lance, you devil, get out and leave the girl alone. I'm ashamed ofyou! Haven't you got any manners at all?--after all the willows andthe good powder I've wasted on you! Get back to that pasture fencebefore I take a club to you for such acting!"

  Before Belle's wrath Lance retreated, and Mary Hope found the courageto wrinkle her nose at him when he glanced her way. "He rinned away tosave himself a whupping," she commented, and made sure that he heardit, and hoped that he would realize that she spoke "Scotchy" just forhis special benefit.

  "All right for you, Belle Lorrigan!" Lance called back, retaliatingfor Mary Hope's grimace by a kiss thrown brazenly in the expectationof seeing her face grow redder; which it did immediately. "Careful ofthat horse--he might rinned away again!"

  "That'll do for you, young man!" Whereupon Belle picked up a smallstone and threw it with such accurate aim that Lance's hat went off."Good thing for you that I haven't got a gun on me, or I'd dust yourheels for you!" Then she turned to Mary Hope, who was listening withtitillating horror to the painted Jezebel's unorthodox method ofreproving her offspring. "Get right down, honey, and come in and rest.And don't mind Lance; he's an awful tease, especially when he likes aperson. Tie your horse to the fence--or turn him in the corral, ifhe'll let you catch him again."

  "I--I don't believe I could stop. I--I only came by because I--myhorse--" Mary Hope stammered and blushed so red that her freckles wereinvisible. After all, it was very hard to tell a lie, she discovered.

  "There's something I like about this horse," said Belle, running herplump white hand down the nose of Rab. "He's neighborly, anyway. Hebrought you here against your will, I can see that. And now he's herehe sort of takes it for granted you'll be friendly and stop a while.Don't you think you ought to be as friendly as your horse, honey?"

  "I--I am friendly. I--I always wished I could come and see you. Butmother--mother doesna visit much among the neighbors; she--she'salways busy."

  "I don't visit much, myself," said Belle dryly. "But that ain't sayingI can't be friendly. Come on in, and we'll have some lemonade."

  Sheer astonishment brought Mary Hope down from her horse. All her lifeshe had taken it for granted that lemonade was sacred to the Fourth ofJuly picnics, just as oranges grew for Christmas trees only. Shefollowed Belle dumbly into the house, and once inside she remaineddumb with awe at what seemed to her to be the highest pinnacle ofgrandeur.

  There was the piano with a fringed scarf draped upon its top, andpictures in frames standing upon the scarf in orderly rows. There weremany sheets of music,--and never a hymn book. There were great chairswith deep upholstery which Mary observed with amazement was not redplush, nor even blue plush, yet which appealed to her instincts forbeauty. There was no center table with fringed spread and family albumand a Bible and a conch shell. Instead there was a long table before awindow--a table littered with all sorts of things: a box of revolvercartridges, a rifle laid down in the middle of scattered newspapers,a bottle of oil, more music, a banjo, a fruit jar that did duty as avase for wild flowers, a half-finished, braided quirt and four silverdollars lying where they had been carelessly flung down. To Mary Hope,reared in a household where dollars were precious things, that lastitem was the most amazing of all. The Lorrigans must be rich,--as richas they were wicked. She thrilled anew at her own daring.

  Belle brought lemonade, wonderful lemonade, with an egg beaten toyellow froth and added the last minute. Mary Hope sipped and marveled.After that, Belle played on the piano and sang songs which Mary Hopehad never heard before and which she thought must be the songs theangels sang in Heaven, although there was nothing to suggest harps orhallelujahs. Love songs they were, mostly. The sun slipped around andshone through a window on Belle's head, so that her yellow hairglistened like fine threads of gold. Mary Hope watched it dreamily andwondered how a Jezebel could be so beautiful and so good.

  "You'd better run along home now, honey," Belle said at last when shehad finished her eighth song. "I'd love to have you stay allnight--but I reckon there'd be trouble. Your dad ain't any too mild,I've heard. But I hope you won't wait until your horse runs away withyou again. I want you to come real soon. And come early so you canstay longer. I'll teach you to play the piano, honey. You ought tolearn, seeing you love it so."

  That night Mary Hope dreamed of playing strange, complex compositionson a piano which Lance Lorrigan had given her. The next morning andfor many days after she still
dreamed of playing entrancing strainsupon a piano, and of Lance Lorrigan who had thrown her a kiss. Bellehad said that Lance always teased a person he liked, and in that oneremark lay the stuff of many dreams.