The Cattle-Baron's Daughter Part 49

"You don't know?" she said. "Then I'll tell you. Because there is n.o.body like Larry, and never will be. Because I love him better than I ever fancied I could love anybody, and--though it's 'most wonderful--he has loved me and waited ever so patiently. Now they are all against him, I'm going to him. Flo, they have 'most made me hate them, the people I belong to, and I think if I was a man I could kill Clavering."

Flora Schuyler sat very still a moment, but it was fortunate she retained her composure whatever she may have felt, for Hetty was in a mood for any rashness. Stretching out her hand, she drew the girl down beside her with a forceful gentleness.

"Hetty," she said, "I think I know how such a man as Larry is would feel, and you want him to be proud of you. Well, there are things that neither he nor you could do, and you must listen to me quietly."

She reasoned with the girl for a while until Hetty shook the pa.s.sion from her.

"Of course you are right, Flo," she said, and her voice was even. "If he could bear all that, I can be patient too. Larry has had ever so many hard things to do, but it is only because it would not be fair to him I'm not going to him now. Flo, you will not leave me until the trouble's through?"

Miss Schuyler turned and kissed her, and then, rising quietly, went out of the room. She had shown Hetty her duty to Larry, which she felt would be more convincing just then than an exposition of what she owed her father, and had reasons for desiring solitude to grapple with affairs of her own.

What she had done had cost her an effort, but Flora Schuyler was fond of Hetty and recognized the obligation of the bond she was contracting when she made a friend.

Some minutes had pa.s.sed when Hetty rose and took down her writing-case from a shelf. She could at least communicate with Larry, for the maid, who had more than one admirer among the cow-boys, had found a means by which letters could be conveyed; but the girl could not command her thoughts, and written sympathy seemed so poor and cold a thing. Two letters were written and flung into the stove, for Flora Schuyler's counsel was bearing fruit; and she had commenced two more when there was a tapping at the door. Hetty looked up with a little flash in her eyes, and swept the papers into the writing-case as Clavering came in. Then she rose, and stood looking at him very coldly.

It was an especially unfortunate moment for the man to approach her in, and, though he did not know why it should be so, he recognized it; but there were reasons that made any further procrastination distinctly unadvisable.

"There is something I have been wanting to tell you for a long time, Hetty," he said.

"It would be better for you to wait a little longer," the girl said chillingly. "I don't feel inclined to listen to anything to-night."

"The trouble," said Clavering, who spoke the truth, "is that I can't. It has hurt me to keep silent as long as I have done already."

He saw the hardening of Hetty's lips, and knew that he had blundered; but he was committed now, and could only obey when she said, with a gesture of weariness "Then go on."

The abrupt command would probably have disconcerted most men and effectually spoiled the appeal they meant to make, and Clavering's face flushed as he recognized its ludicrous aspect. Still, he could not withdraw then, and he made the best of a difficult position with a certain gracefulness which might, under different circ.u.mstances, have secured him a modic.u.m of consideration. As it was, however, Hetty's anger left her almost white, and there was a light he did not care to see in her eyes when she turned towards him.

"I am glad you have told me this," she said. "Since nothing else would convince you, it will enable me to talk plainly; I don't consider it an honour--not in the least. Can't you see that it is wholly and altogether out of the question that I should ever think in that way of you?"

Clavering gasped, and the darker colour that was in his cheek showed in his forehead too. Hetty reminded him very much of her father, then--and he had witnessed one or two displays of the cattle-baron's temper.

"I admit that I have a good many shortcomings, but, since you ask, I must confess that I don't quite understand why my respectful offer should rouse your indignation."

"No?" said Hetty coldly, with the vindictive sparkle still in her eyes.

"Then aren't you very foolish?"

Clavering smiled, though it was not easy. "Well," he said, "I was evidently too audacious; but you have not told me yet why the proposal I ventured to make should appear quite preposterous."

"I think," said Hetty, "it would be considerably nicer for you if I didn't. I can, however, tell you this--I would never, under any circ.u.mstances, marry you."

Clavering bent his head, and took himself away with the best grace he could, while Hetty, who, perhaps because she had been under a heavy strain, became suddenly sensible of a most illogical desire to laugh, afterwards admitted that he really accomplished it becomingly. But the laughter that would have been a relief to her did not come, and after toying in a purposeless fas.h.i.+on with her writing-case, she rose and slipped out of the room, unfortunately leaving it open.

A few minutes later Clavering met the maid in the corridor that led to Torrance's room, and the girl, who saw his face, and may have guessed what had brought the anger into his eyes, stopped a moment. It is also probable that, being a young woman with quick perceptions, she had guessed with some correctness how far his regard for Hetty went.

"You don't seem pleased to-night," she said.

"No?" said Clavering, with a little laugh which rang hollow. "Well, I should be. It is quite a while since I had a talk with you."

"Pshaw!" said the girl, who failed to blush, though she wished to, watching him covertly. "Now, I wonder if what I'm going to tell you will make you more angry still. Suppose you heard Miss Torrance had been sending letters to Larry Grant?"

"I don't know that I should believe it," said Clavering, as unconcernedly as he could.

"Well, she has," the girl said. "What is more, she has been going out to meet him in the Cedar Bluff."

Clavering's face betrayed him, and for a moment the girl, who saw his lips set, was almost afraid. He contrived, however, to make a light answer, and was about to ask a question when a door creaked. The next moment Torrance came out into the corridor, and Clavering's opportunity vanished with the maid. Torrance, who had evidently not seen her, kept him talking for a while.

In the meanwhile, the girl contrived an excuse for entering the room where she was quite aware Hetty and Clavering had met. She did not find her mistress, but, as it happened, noticed the writing-case, and, having a stake in affairs, opened it. Inside she found two sheets of paper, and after considering the probabilities of detection appropriated one of them on which was written, "Larry dear."

She had, however, no intention of showing it to Clavering just then, but, deciding that such a paper might be worth a good many dollars to the person who knew how to make use of it, she slipped it into her pocket, and went out into the hall, where she saw him talking to Torrance. As she watched they shook hands, and Clavering swung himself on to the back of a horse somebody led up to the door. It was two or three weeks before he came back again, and was led straight to the room where Torrance and some of his neighbours were sitting. Clavering took his place among the rest, and watched the faces that showed amidst the blue cigar-smoke. Some were intent and eager, a few very grim, but the stamp of care was on all of them save that of Torrance, who sat immobile and expressionless at the head of the table. Allonby was speaking somewhat dejectedly.

"It seems to me that we have only gone round," he said. "It has cost us more dollars than any of us care to reckon, and I for one am tolerably near the end of my tether."

"So are the homestead-boys. We can last them out, and we have got to,"

said somebody.

Allonby raised his hand with a little hopeless gesture. "I'm not quite sure; but what I want to show you is that we have come back to the place we started from. When we first met here we decided that it was advisable to put down Larry Grant, and though we have not accomplished it yet, it seems to me more necessary than ever just now."

"I don't understand you," said one of the younger men. "Larry's boys have broken loose from him, and he can't worry anybody much alone."

Torrance glanced at Allonby with a sardonic twinkle in his eyes. "That sounds very like sense," he said.

"Well," said Allonby drily, "it isn't, and I think you know it at least as well as I do. It is because the boys have broken out we want to get our thumb on Larry."

There was a little murmur of bewilderment, for men were present that night who had not attended many meetings of the district committee.

"You will have to make it plainer," somebody said.

Allonby glanced at Torrance, who nodded, and then went on. "Now, I know that what I am going to tell you does not sound nice, and a year ago I would have had unpleasant thoughts of the man who suggested any course of that kind to me; but we have got to go under or pull down the enemy. The legislature are beginning to look at things with the homesteaders' eyes, and what we want is popular sympathy. We lost a good chance of getting it over the stock-train. Larry was too clever for us again, and that brings me to the point which should be quite plain. The homestead-boys have lost their heads and will cut their own throats if they are let alone. They are ripe for ranch-burning and firing on the cavalry, and once they start the State will have to step in and whip them out for us."

"But where does Larry come in?" asked somebody.

"That," said Clavering, "is quite easy. So long as Larry is loose he will have a following, and somehow he will hear of and stop their wildest moves. As most of you know, I don't like him; but Larry is not a fool."

"To be quite plain, we are to cut out the restraining influence, and give the rabble a free hand to let loose anarchy," said one man. "Then, you can strike me off the roll. That is a kind of meanness that wouldn't suit me!"

There were murmurs of approval from one or two of the company, but Torrance checked them. "Gentlemen," he said, "we must win or be beaten and get no mercy. You can't draw back, and the first step is to put Larry down. If the State had backed us we would have made an end of the trouble, and it is most square and fitting they should have the whipping of the rabble forced upon them now. Are we cavalry troopers or a Sheriff's posse, to do their work for them, and be kicked by way of thanks? They would not nip the trouble when they could, and we'll sit tight and watch them try to crush it when it's 'most too big for them."

Again there was a murmur, of grim approval this time; but one of the objectors rose with an ironical smile.

"You have made a very poor show at catching Larry so far," he said. "Are you quite sure the thing is within your ability?"

"I guess it is," said Torrance sharply. "He is living at his homestead, and we need not be afraid of a hundred men with rifles coming to take him from us now."

"He has a few neighbours who believe in him," one of the men said. "They are not rabble, but level-headed Americans, with the hardest kind of grit in them. It wouldn't suit us to be whipped again."

Clavering stood up, with his eyes fixed on Torrance. "I agree with our leader--it can be done. In fact, I quite believe we can lay our hands on Larry alone," he said. "Can I have a word with you, Mr. Torrance?"

Torrance nodded, and, leaving Allonby speaking, led Clavering into an adjoining room. "Sit down, and get through as quick as you can," he said.