The Ranch at the Wolverine Read online

  CHAPTER VI

  A MATTER OF TWELVE MONTHS OR SO

  Out in the wide spaces, where homes are but scattered oases in thegeneral emptiness, life does not move uniformly, so far as it concernsincidents or acquaintanceships. A man or a ranch may experiencecomplete isolation, and the unbroken monotony which sometimesaccompanies it, for a month at a time. Summer work or winter storm maybe the barrier temporarily raised, and life resolves itself into asuccession of days and nights unbroken by outside influences. Theyleave their mark upon humans--these periods of isolation. For better,for worse, the man changes slowly with the months; he grows more bovinein his phlegmatic acceptance of his environment, or he becomes restlessand fired with a surplus energy of ambition, or he falls to dreamingdreams; whatever angle he takes, he changes, imperceptibly perhaps, butinevitably.

  Then the monotony is broken and sometimes with violence. Incidentrushes in upon the heels of incident, and life becomes as tumultuous asthe many moods of nature when it has a wide, open land for a playground.

  That is why, perhaps, so much of western life is painted with broadstrokes and raw colors. You are given the crowded action, theunleashing of emotions and temperaments that have smoldered long underthe blanket of solitary living. You are shown an effect without beinggiven the cause of that effect. You pronounce the West wild, and younever think of the long winters that bred in silence and broodingsolitude those storm-periods which seem so primitively savage; of thedays wherein each nature is thrown upon its own resources, with nothingto feed upon but itself and its own personal interests. And socharacters change, and one wonders why.

  There was Billy Louise, with her hands and her mind full of theproblems her father had died still trying to solve. She did not in theleast realize that she was attempting anything out of the ordinary whenshe took a half-developed ranch in the middle of a land almost as wildas it had been when the Indians wandered over it unmolested, a fewcattle and horses and a bundle of debts to make her head swim, and setherself the problem of increasing the number of cattle and eliminatingthe debts, and of wresting prosperity out of a condition ofpicturesquely haphazard poverty. She went about it with the patheticconfidence of youth and ignorance. She rode up and down the canyonsand over the higher, grassier ridges, to watch the cattle on theirsummer range and keep them from straying. She went with John Pringleafter posts and helped him fence certain fertile slopes and hollows forwinter grazing. She drove the rickety old mower through the wavinggrass along the creek bottom and hummed little, contented tunes whileshe watched the grass sway and fall evenly when the sickle shuttledthrough. She put on her gymnasium bloomers and drove the hay wagon,and felt only a pleasurable thrill of excitement when John Pringleinadvertently pitched an indignant rattlesnake up to her with a forkfulof hay. She killed the snake with her pitchfork and pinched off therattles, proud of their size and number.

  When she sold seven fat, three-year-old steers that fall and paid anote twice renewed, managing besides to buy the winter supply of "grub"and a sewing-machine and a set of silver teaspoons for her mother, oh,but she was proud!

  Ward rode down to the ranch that night, and Billy Louise showed him thenote with its red stamp, oblong and imposing and slightly blurred onthe "paid" side. Ward was almost as proud as she, if looks and toneswent for anything, and he helped Billy Louise a good deal by tellingher just how much she ought to pay for the yearlings old Johnson, overon Snake River, had for sale. Also he told her how much hay it wouldtake to winter them--though she knew that already--and just whatpercentage of profit she might expect from a given number in a givenperiod of time.

  He spoke of his own work and plans, as well. He was going into cattle,also, as fast as possible, he said. In a few years the sheep wouldprobably come in and crowd them out, but in the meantime there wasmoney in cattle--and the more cattle, the more money. He was going towork for wages till the winter set in. He didn't know when he wouldsee Billy Louise, he said, but he would stop on his way back.

  To them that short visit was something more than an incident. It gaveWard new stuff for his dreams and new fuel for the fire of ambition.To Billy Louise it also furnished new dream material. She rode thehills and saw in fancy whole herds of cattle where now wanderedscattered animals. She dreamed of the time when Ward and Charlie Foxand she would pool their interests and run a wagon of their own, andgather their stock from wide ranges. She was foolish, in that; butthat is what she liked to dream.

  Mentioning Charlie Fox calls to mind the fact that he was changing morethan any of them. Billy Louise did not see him very often, but whenshe did it was with a deepening impression of his unflagging tendernessto Marthy--a tenderness that manifested itself in many little,unassuming thoughtfulnesses--and of his good-humor and his energy andseveral other qualities which one must admire.

  "Mommie, that nephew goes at everything just as if it were a game," shesaid after one visit. "You know what that cabin has always been: darkand dirty and not a comfortable chair to sit down in, or a book ormagazine or anything? Well, I'm just going to take you over there someday and let you see the difference. He's cut two more windows andbuilt on an addition with a porch, if you please. And he has abookcase he made himself, just stuffed with books and magazines. Andhe made Marthy a rocking-chair, mommie, and--she wears a white apron,and has her hair combed, and sits and rocks! Honest to goodness, youwouldn't think she was the same woman."

  "Marthy always seemed to me more like a man than a woman," said hermother. "She didn't have nothing domestic in her whole make-up, far asI could see. Her cooking--"

  "Well, mommie, Marthy cooks real well now. Charlie praises up herbread, and she takes lots of pains with it. And she just fusses withher flowers and lets him run the ranch; and, mommie, she just worshipsCharlie! The way she sits and looks at him when he's talking--you cansee she almost says prayers to him. She does let her dishpan staygreasy--I don't suppose you can change a person completely--buteverything is lots cleaner than it used to be before Charlie came.He's going to buy more cattle, too, he says. Young stock, mostly. Hesays there's no sense in anybody being poor, in such a country as this.He says he intends to make Marthy rich; Aunt Martha, he calls her. I'mcertainly going to take you over to see her, mommie, the very firstnice day when I don't have a million other things to do." Billy Louisesighed and pushed her hair back impatiently. "I wish I were a man andas smart as Charlie Fox," she added, with the plaintive note that nowsometimes crept into her voice when she realized of a sudden how greata load she was carrying.

  "A man can get out and do things. And a woman--why, even Ward seems tothink it's perfectly wonderful, mommie, that we don't just aboutstarve, with me running the ranch! I know he does. Every time I do athing right or pay off a note or anything, he looks as if--"

  "I wouldn't be a mite surprised, Billy Louise," said her mother, with aflash of amused comprehension, "if you kinda misread Ward sometimes.Them eyes of his are pretty keen, and they see a whole lot; but theyain't easy to read, for all that. I guess Ward don't think it'sanything surprising that you're getting along so well, Billy Louise. Isurmise he knows you're a better manager than a lot of men are."

  "I'm not the manager Charlie Fox is, though." Billy Louise was franklyenvious.

  "He didn't have any more to do with than I've got, and he'saccomplished a lot more. And, besides, he started in green at thewhole business." She rested her chin in her cupped palms and stareddisconsolately at the high-piled hills behind which the sun was settinggloriously. "He's going to pipe water into the house, mommie," sheobserved, after a silence. "I wish--"

  "Well, he's welcome. I don't want no water piped in here, BillyLouise, and tastin' of the pipe. I'd rather carry it and have it sweetand fresh. Don't you go worrying because you can't do everythingCharlie Fox does. Likely as not he's pilin' up the debts instead ofpayin' 'em off as you're doing."

  "I don't know; I don't believe he is, though. I think he's justmanaging right and making every dollar cou
nt. He got calves fromSeabeck, up the river, cheaper than I did from Johnson, mommie. Herode all over the country and looked up range conditions and prices.He didn't say so, but he made me feel foolish because I just bought thefirst ones I saw, without waiting to look around first. But--Ward saidit was a good buy, and he ought to know; only, the fact remains thatCharlie has done better. I guess it isn't experience that counts,altogether. Charlie Fox has got brains!"

  "Land alive! I guess he ain't the only one, Billy Louise. You'redoing better than your father done, and he wasn't any Jase Meilke kindof a man, but a good, hard worker always. You don't want to get allouta conceit with yourself just because Charlie Fox is gitting alongall right. I don't know as it's so wonderful. Marthy was alwaysforehanded, and she made money there and never spent any to speak of.Though I shouldn't carry the idea she's stingy, after the way she--"

  If Billy Louise had not been so absorbed with her own discontent, shemight have wondered at her mother's sudden silence. But she did noteven notice it. She was comparing two young men and measuring themwith certain standards of her own, and she was not quite satisfied withthe result. She had seen Charlie Fox spring up with a perfectlynatural courtesy and hand Marthy a chair when she entered the roomwhere he had been discussing books with Billy Louise. She had seen himstand beside his own chair until Marthy was seated and then had heardhim deftly turn the conversation into a channel wherein Marthy had alsoan interest. Parlor politeness--and something more; somethinginfinitely finer and better than mere obedience to certain conventionalrules.

  She had seen that and more, and she had a vivid picture of Ward,sitting absorbed in a book which he never afterwards mentioned, andletting her or her mother lift heavy pieces of wood upon the firewithin arm's reach of him; sitting with his hat tilted back upon hishead and a cigarette gone cold in his fingers, and perhaps not replyingat all when he was spoken to. She had never considered him uncouth orrude; he was Ward Warren, and these were certain individual traitswhich he possessed and which seemed a part of him. She had senseddimly that some natures are too big and too strong for petty rules ofdeportment, and that Ward might sit all day in the house with his haton his head and still be a gentleman of the finer sort. And yet, nowthat Charlie Fox had come and presented an example of the world'sstandard, Billy Louise could not, for the life of her, help wishingthat Ward was different. And there were other things; things whichBilly Louise was ashamed to recognize as influencing her in any way,and yet which did influence her. For instance, Ward lived to himselfand for himself, and not always wisely or well. He was arrogant in hisopinions--Billy Louise had rather admired what she had called hisstrength, but it had become arrogance now--and his scorn was swift andkeen for blunderings. And there was Charlie, always thinking andplanning for Marthy and putting her wishes first; wanting to make surethat he himself had not blundered, and with a conservative estimate ofhimself that was refreshingly modest. And--

  "Ain't that Ward coming, Billy Louise? Seems to me it looks likehim--the way he rides."

  Billy Louise started guiltily and looked up toward the trail, now pileddeep with shadows. It was Ward, all right, and his voice, lifted in agood-humored shout, brought Billy Louise to her feet and sent her downthe slope to the stable, where he had stopped as a matter of course.

  When he turned and smiled at her through the dusk and said, "'Lo,Bill," in a voice that was like a spoken kiss, a certain young womanhated herself for a weak-souled traitor and mentally called Charlie Foxa popinjay, which was merely shifting injustice to anotherresting-place.

  "Are you plumb tickled to death to see me, William?"

  "Oh, no; but I guess I can stand it!"

  A smile to go with both sentences, and a strong undercurrent ofsomething unnamed in their tones--who wanted the pasteurized milk anddistilled water of a perfectly polite form of greeting? Not BillyLouise, if one might judge from that young woman's face and voice andmanner. Not Ward, though he was perfectly unconscious of having beenweighed or measured or judged by any standard at all.

  And yet, when Charlie Fox rode down to the Wolverine a week or solater, tied his horse under the shed, and came up to the cabin asthough he knew of no better place in all the world; when he greetedmommie as though she were something precious in his sight, and talkedwith her about the things she was most interested in, and actually madeher feel as if he were immensely interested also, Billy Louise simplycould not help admiring him and liking him for his frank good-natureand his kindness. She had never before met a man just like CharlieFox, though she had known many who were what Ward once called"parlor-broke." She felt when she was with him that he had a strengthto match Ward's strength; only, this strength was tamed and trained andsmoothed so that it did not obtrude upon one's notice. It was notevery young man who would come out into the wilderness and roughen hishands on an irrigating shovel and live a cramped, lonely life, for thesake of a harsh, illiterate old woman like Marthy Meilke. She did notbelieve Ward would do that. He would have to feel some tie strongerthan the one between Marthy and her nephew before he would change hislife and his own plans for anyone.

  It was not until Charlie was leaving that he gave Billy Louise a hintthat his errand was not yet accomplished. She walked down with him towhere his horse was tied and so gave him a chance to speak what was inhis mind.

  "You know, I hate to mention little worries before your mother," hesaid. "Those pathetic eyes of hers make me ashamed to bother her witha thing. But I am worried, Miss Louise. I came over to ask you ifyou've seen anything of four calves of ours. I know you ride a gooddeal, through the hills. They disappeared a week ago, and I can't findany trace of them. I've been looking all through the hills, but Ican't locate them."

  Billy Louise had not seen them, either, and she begged for particulars."I don't see how they could get away from your Cove," she said, "unlessyour bars were down."

  "The bars were all right. It was last Friday, I think. I'm not sure.They were in the little meadow above the house, you see. I was awaythat night, and Aunt Martha is a little hard of hearing. She wouldn'thear anything unless there were considerable noise. I came home thenext forenoon--I was over to Seabeck's--and the bars were in placethen. Aunt Martha had not been up the gorge, nor had anyone come tothe ranch while I was gone. So you see, Miss Louise, here's a verypretty mystery!"

  He laughed, but Billy Louise saw by his eyes that he did not laugh verydeeply, and that he was really worried. "I must have made a mistakeand bought mountain sheep instead of calves," he said and laughedagain. "They couldn't have gone through those bars or over them; and Idid have a spark of intelligence and looked along the river for tracks,you know. They had not been near the river, which has soft banks alongthere. They watered from the little creek that comes down the gorge.Miss Louise, do you have flying cattle in Idaho?"

  "You think they were driven off, don't you?" Billy Louise asked aquestion with the words, and made a statement of it with her tone,which was a trick of hers.

  Charlie Fox shook his head, but his eyes did not complete the denial."Miss Louise, I'd work every other theory to death before I'd admitthat possibility! I don't know all of my neighbors so very well, but Ishould hesitate a long, long time--"

  "It needn't have been a neighbor. There are lots of strange menpassing through the country. Did you look for tracks?"

  "I--did not. I didn't want to admit that possibility. I decline toadmit it now." The chin of Charlie Fox squared perceptibly, so thatBillie Louise caught a faint resemblance to Marthy in his face. "I sawa man accused of a theft once," he said. "The evidence was--orseemed--absolutely unassailable. And afterward he was exoneratedcompletely; it was just a horrible mistake. But he left school under acloud. His life was ruined by the blunder. I'd have to knowabsolutely before I'd accuse anyone of stealing those calves, MissLouise. I'd have to see them in a man's corral, with his brand onthem--I believe that's the way it's done, out here--and even then--"

  "Where have you looked?"
There were reasons why this particularsubject was painful to Billy Louise. "And are you sure they didn't getout of that pasture and wander on down the Cove, among all thosewillows? It's a perfect jungle, away down. Are you sure they aren'twith the rest of the cattle? I don't see how they could leave theCove, unless they were driven out." She caught a twinkle of amusementin his eyes and stopped short. Of course, a mere girl should not takeit for granted that a man had failed to do all that might be done. AndBilly Louise had a swift conviction that she would never think oftalking like this to Ward. She flushed a little; and still, CharlieFox was a tenderfoot. She was justified in asking those questions, andin her heart she knew it.

  "Yes, I thought of that--strange as it may seem." Charlie's voice wasunoffended. On the contrary, he seemed glad that she took so keen aninterest in his affairs. "It has been a week, you know, since theyflew the coop. I did hunt every foot of that Cove, twice over. Idrove every hoof of stock up and corraled them, and made sure thesefour were not in the herd. Then I hunted through every inch of thatwillow jungle and all along the bluff and the river; Miss Louise, I putin three days at it, from sunrise till it was too dark to see. Then Ibegan riding outside. There isn't a trace of them anywhere. I hadjust bought them from Seabeck, you know. I drove them home, andbecause they were tired, and so was I, I just left them in that uppermeadow as I came down the gorge. I hadn't branded them yet. I--I knowI've made an awful botch of the thing, Miss Louise," he confessed,turning toward her with an honest distress and a self-flaying humilityin his eyes that wiped from Billy Louise's mind any incipient tendencytoward contempt. "But you see I'm green at this ranch game. And Inever dreamed those calves weren't perfectly safe in there. The fencewas new and strong; I built it new this fall, you know. And the barsare absolutely bars to any stock larger than a rabbit. Of course," headded, with a deprecating note, "four calves are only four calves.But--it's the sense of failure that gets me hardest, Miss Louise. AuntMartha trusted me to take care of things. Her confidence in me fairlytakes my nerve. And losing four fine, big heifer calves at one whackis no way to get rich; is it, Miss Louise?" He laughed, and again thelaugh did not go deep, or reach his eyes.

  "I hate to bother you with this, and I don't want you to think I havecome whining for sympathy," he said, after a minute of moody silence."But seeing they were not branded yet--with our brand--I thoughtperhaps you had run across them and paid no attention, thinking theybelonged to Seabeck."

  Billy Louise smiled a little to herself. If he had not been quite so"green at the ranch game," he would have mentioned brands at first, asthe most important point, instead of tacking on the informationcasually after ten minutes of other less vital details.

  "Were they vented?" she asked, suppressing the smile so that it wasmerely a twitch of the lips which might mean anything.

  "I--yes, I think they were. That's what you call it when the formerowner puts his brand in a different place to show that his ownershiphas ceased, isn't it? Seabeck puts his brand upside down--"

  "I know Seabeck's vent," Billy Louise cut in. There was no need ofletting such a fine fellow display more ignorance on the subject. "AndI should have noticed it if I had seen four calves vented fresh and notrebranded. Why in the world didn't you stick your brand on at the sametime?" Billy Louise was losing patience with his greenness.

  "I didn't have my branding iron with me," Charlie answered humbly. "Ihave done that before, when I bought those other cows and calves. I--"

  "You'd better pack your iron, next time," she retorted. "If you can'tget a little bunch of calves ten miles without losing them--"

  "But you must understand, I did! I took them home and turned them intothe Cove. I know--I'm an awful chump at this. There are things that Ican do," he declared whimsically, "or I should want to kick myself todeath. I can ladle out money the year round through a bank wicket andnot be shy a cent at the end of the year. And I can strike out manafter man--when I'm in good form; why, I've pitched whole games andnever walked a man! And I can--but what's the use? I can't drive thecows up from pasture, it seems, without losing all the milk. And I canmake a little, gray-eyed girl out here in the sagebrush look upon mewith pitying contempt for my asinine ignorance. Hang it, why does afellow have to learn fresh lessons for everything he undertakes? Whycan't there be a universal course that fits one for every trade?"

  "There is," said Billy Louise dryly. "You take that in the School ofExperience, don't you?"

  He laughed ruefully. "Horatio! It certainly does cost something,though. I've certainly paid enough--"

  "In worry, maybe. The calves may not be absolutely lost, you know.Why, I lost a big steer last spring and never found him till I wasgoing to sell a few head. Then he turned up, the biggest and fattestone in the bunch. You can't tell; they get themselves in queer placessometimes. I'll come over to-morrow, if I can, and take a look at thatpasture and all around. And I'll keep a good lookout for the calves."

  Many men would have objected to the unconscious patronage of her tone.That Charlie Fox did not, but accepted the spirit of helpfulness in herwords, lifted him out of the small-natured class.

  "It's awfully good of you," he said. "You know a lot more about thebovine nature than I do, for all I put in every spare minute studyingthe subject. I'm taking four different stock journals now, MissLouise. I'll bet I know a lot more about the different strains ofvarious breeds than you do, Miss Cattle-queen. But I'm beginning tosee that we only know what we learn by experience. I've a new book onthe subject of heredity of the cattle. I'm going home and see ifSeabeck hasn't stumbled upon a strain that can be traced back to yournative mountain sheep."

  Billy Louise laughed and said good-by, and stood leaning over the gatewatching him as he zigzagged up the hill, stopping his horse often tobreathe. The wagon road took a round-about course, longer and lesssteep. At the top, just before he rounded a huge pimple on the face ofthe bluff, he stopped and looked down, saw her standing there, andwaved his hat. His horse stood sidewise upon the trail for easierfooting, and the man's head and shoulders were silhouetted sharplyagainst the deep, clear blue of the sky. Billy Louise felt a little,unnamed thrill as she stared up at him. Her lips curved intotenderness. Clean, frank, easy-natured he was, as she had come to knowhim. It was like coming into a sunny spot to be with him. And thenshe sighed, with that vague feeling of dissatisfaction with herself.She felt crude and awkward and dull of wit. Her mother, Marthy,Ward--all the persons she knew--were crude and awkward and ignorantbeside Charlie Fox. And she had had the temerity, the insufferableeffrontery, to criticize him and patronize him over those four calves!

  "He can strike out three men in succession," she murmured. "And hepitched whole games and never walked a man." She gave him a final waveof the hand, as he turned to climb on out of sight. "And I don't evenknow what he was talking about--though I think it was baseball. And Iwas awfully snippy about those calves he lost."

  She began to wonder, then, about those calves. Vented and notrebranded, they would be easy game for any man who first got his ownbrand on them. She meant to get a description of them when she sawCharlie again--it was like his innocence to forget the most essentialdetails!--and she meant to keep her eyes open. If Charlie were rightabout the calves not being anywhere in the Cove, then they had beendriven out of it, stolen. Billy Louise turned dejectedly away from thefence and went down to a shady nook by the creek, where she had alwaysliked to do her worrying and hard thinking.

  She stooped and tried to catch a baby trout in her cupped palms, justas she used to try when she was a child. If those four calves werestolen, then there was a "rustler" in the country. And if there were,then no one's stock was safe. The deduction was terribly simple and asexact as the smallest sum in addition. And Billy Louise could notafford to pay toll to a rustler out of her forty-seven head of cattle.

  The next day she rode early to the Cove and learned some things fromMarthy which she had not gleaned from Charlie.
She learned that two ofthe calves were a deep red, except for a wide, white strip on the noseof one and white hind feet on the other; that another was spotted onthe hindquarters, and that the fourth was white, with large, redblotches. She had known cattle all her life. She would know these, ifshe saw them anywhere.

  She also discovered for herself that they could not have broken out ofthat pasture, and that the river bank was impassable, because of high,thick bushes and miry mud in the open spaces. She had a fight withBlue over these latter places and demonstrated beyond doubt that theywere miry, by getting him in to the knees in spite of his violentobjections. They left deep tracks behind them when they got out. Thecalves had not gone investigating the bank, for there was not a traceanywhere. And the bluff was absolutely unscalable. Billy Louiseherself would have felt doubtful of climbing out that way. The grayrim-rock stood straight and high at the top, with never a crevice, sofar as she could see. And the gorge was barred, so that it wasimpossible to go that way without lifting heavy poles out of deepsockets and sliding them to one side.

  "I've got an idea about a gate here," Charlie confided suddenly."There won't be any more mysteries like this. I'm going to fix aswinging gate in place of these bars, Miss Louise. I shall have itswing uphill, like this; and I'll have a weight arranged so that itwill always close itself, if one is careless enough to ride on andleave it open. I have it all worked out in my alleged brain. I shalldo it right away, too. Aunt Marthy is rather nervous about this gorge,now. Every evening she walks up here herself to make sure the bars areclosed."

  "You may as well make up your mind to it," said Billy Louiseirrelevantly, in a tone of absolute certainty. "Those calves weredriven out of the gorge. That means stolen. You needn't accuse anyonein particular; I don't suppose you could. But they were stolen."

  Charlie frowned and glanced up speculatively at the bluff's rim.

  "Oh, your mountain-sheep theory is no good," Billy Louise giggled. "Idoubt if a lizard, even, would try to leave the Cove over the bluff."Which certainly was a sweeping statement, when you consider a lizard'shabits. "A mountain sheep couldn't, anyway."

  "They're hummers to climb--"

  "But calves are not, Mr. Fox! Not like that. You know yourself theywere stolen; why not admit it?"

  "Would that do any good--bring them back?" he countered, looking up ather.

  "N-o, but I do hate to see a person deliberately shut his eyes in frontof a fact. We may as well admit to ourselves that there is a rustlerin the country. Then we can look out for him."

  Charlie's eyes had the troubled look. "I hate to think that. AuntMartha insists that is what we are up against, but--"

  "Well, she knows more about it than you do, believe me. If you'll letdown the bars, Mr. Fox, I'll hit the trail. And if I find outanything, I'll let you know at once."

  When she rode over the bleak upland she caught herself wishing that shemight talk the thing over with Ward. He would know just what ought tobe done. But winter was coming, and she would drive her stock downinto the fields she had ready. They would be safe there, surely.Still, she wished Ward would come. She wanted to talk it over with aman who understood and who knew more about such things than she did.