[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Lassiter is with Mrs. Larkin. She is ill. I ll call him, answered Jane, and
going to the door she softly called for the rider. A faint, musical jingle
preceded his step then his tall form crossed the threshold.
Lassiter, here s Blake, an old rider of mine. He has come back to me and he
wishes to speak to you.
Blake s brown face turned exceedingly pale.
Yes, I had to speak to you, he said, swiftly. My name s Blake. I m a
Mormon and a rider. Lately I quit Miss Withersteen. I ve come to beg her to
take me back. Now I don t know you; but I know what you are. So I ve this to
say to your face. It would never occur to this woman to imagine let alone
suspect me to be a spy. She couldn t think it might just be a low plot to come
here and shoot you in the back. Jane Withersteen hasn t that kind of a mind&
Well, I ve not come for that. I want to help her to pull a bridle along with
Judkins and and you. The thing is do you believe me?
I reckon I do, replied Lassiter. How this slow, cool speech contrasted with
Blake s hot, impulsive words! You might have saved some of your breath. See
here, Blake, cinch this in your mind. Lassiter has met some square Mormons!
An mebbe
Blake, interrupted Jane, nervously anxious to terminate a colloquy that she
perceived was an ordeal for him. Go at once and fetch me a report of my
horses.
Miss Withersteen! & You mean the big drove down in the sage-cleared
fields?
Of course, replied Jane. My horses are all there, except the blooded stock
I keep here.
Haven t you heard then?
Heard? No! What s happened to them?
They re gone, Miss Withersteen, gone these ten days past. Dorn told me, and
I rode down to see for myself.
Lassiter did you know? asked Jane, whirling to him.
I reckon so& But what was the use to tell you?
It was Lassiter turning away his face and Blake studying the stone flags at
his feet that brought Jane to the understanding of what she betrayed. She
strove desperately, but she could not rise immediately from such a blow.
My horses! My horses! What s become of them?
Dorn said the riders report another drive by Oldring& And I trailed the
horses miles down the slope toward Deception Pass.
My red herd s gone! My horses gone! The white herd will go next. I can stand
that. But if I lost Black Star and Night, it would be like parting with my own
flesh and blood. Lassiter Blake am I in danger of losing my racers?
A rustler or or anybody stealin hosses of yours would most of all want
Page 94
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
the blacks, said Lassiter. His evasive reply was affirmative enough. The
other rider nodded gloomy acquiescence.
Oh! Oh! Jane Withersteen choked, with violent utterance.
Let me take charge of the blacks? asked Blake. One more rider won t be any
great help to Judkins. But I might hold Black Star and Night, if you put such
store on their value.
Value! Blake, I love my racers. Besides, there s another reason why I
mustn t lose them. You go to the stables. Go with Jerd every day when he runs
the horses, and don t let them out of your sight. If you would please me win
my gratitude, guard my black racers.
When Blake had mounted and ridden out of the court Lassiter regarded Jane
with the smile that was becoming rarer as the days sped by.
Pears to me, as Blake says, you do put some store on them hosses. Now I
ain t gainsayin that the Arabians are the handsomest hosses I ever seen. But
Bells can beat Night, an run neck an neck with Black Star.
Lassiter, don t tease me now. I m miserable sick. Bells is fast, but he
can t stay with the blacks, and you know it. Only Wrangle can do that.
I ll bet that big raw-boned brute can more n show his heels to your black
racers. Jane, out there in the sage, on a long chase, Wrangle could kill your
favorites.
No, no, replied Jane, impatiently. Lassiter, why do you say that so often?
I know you ve teased me at times, and I believe it s only kindness. You re
always trying to keep my mind off worry. But you mean more by this repeated
mention of my racers?
I reckon so. Lassiter paused, and for the thousandth time in her presence
moved his black sombrero round and round, as if counting the silver pieces on
the band. Well, Jane, I ve sort of read a little that s passin in your
mind.
You think I might fly from my home from Cottonwoods from the Utah
border?
I reckon. An if you ever do an get away with the blacks I wouldn t like to
see Wrangle left here on the sage. Wrangle could catch you. I know Venters had
him. But you can never tell. Mebbe he hasn t got him now& Besides things are
happenin , an somethin of the same queer nature might have happened to
Venters.
God knows you re right! & Poor Bern, how long he s gone! In my trouble I ve
been forgetting him. But, Lassiter, I ve little fear for him. I ve heard my
riders say he s as keen as a wolf&
As to your reading my thoughts well, your suggestion makes an actual
thought of what was only one of my dreams. I believe I dreamed of flying from
this wild borderland, Lassiter. I ve strange dreams. I m not always practical
and thinking of my many duties, as you said once. For instance if I dared
if I dared I d ask you to saddle the blacks and ride away with me and hide
me.
Jane!
Page 95
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
The rider s sunburnt face turned white. A few times Jane had seen Lassiter s
cool calm broken when he had met little Fay, when he had learned how and why
he had come to love both child and mistress, when he had stood beside Milly
Erne s grave. But one and all they could not be considered in the light of his
present agitation. Not only did Lassiter turn white not only did he grow
tense, not only did he lose his coolness, but also he suddenly, violently,
hungrily took her into his arms and crushed her to his breast.
Lassiter! cried Jane, trembling. It was an action for which she took sole
blame. Instantly, as if dazed, weakened, he released her. Forgive me! went
on Jane. I m always forgetting your your feelings. I thought of you as my
faithful friend. I m always making you out more than human& only, let me say
I meant that about riding away. I m wretched, sick of this this Oh,
something bitter and black grows on my heart!
Jane, the hell of it, he replied, with deep intake of breath, is you
can t ride away. Mebbe realizin it accounts for my grabbin you that way,
as much as the crazy boy s rapture your words gave me. I don t understand
myself& But the hell of this game is you can t ride away.
Lassiter! & What on earth do you mean? I m an absolutely free woman.
You ain t absolutely anythin of the kind& I reckon I ve got to tell you!
Tell me all. It s uncertainty that makes me a coward. It s faith and hope
blind love, if you will, that makes me miserable. Every day I awake believing
still believing. The day grows, and with it doubts, fears, and that black
bat hate that bites hotter and hotter into my heart. Then comes night I pray
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]