the Hash-Knife Outfit (1985) Page 5

  "Thank God I--I had the--courage to come," she said, speaking a thought aloud. "I--I never knew how--good Jim was!"

  That established a character Jim regretted he hardly deserved, and one to which he felt he must live up.

  "Glory, I've got a little confession to make, myself," he said, with a happy laugh. "Not that I've actually fallen by the wayside. But I've gone back on the East. And I'm--"

  "Wait," she interrupted, sitting up to dry her eyes. "I haven't told all--and what seems the worst to me."

  "Gosh!" ejaculated Jim, with a sinking sensation in his chest. "Perhaps you'd better not tell me more."

  "Jim, I met Ed Darnell in the station at St. Louis," went on Glory, hastily, as if eager to impart what seemed important. "Quite by accident. I had to change trains there and wait five hours. And it was my bad luck to run into him first thing... Well, he raved. He made a thousand excuses... The liar! The thief!... I absolutely refused to have any more to do with him. Yet I was scared stiff at him. He had some queer power over me. But I had sense enough to realise I despised him. Then he threatened me--swore he'd follow me. And Jim--that's exactly what he'll do. He knew, of course, about Uncle Jim, the rich ranchman. Mother gabbed a lot. At first she was fascinated by Ed. I didn't tell him where I was going, but he could find out easily. And he'll come. I saw it in his eyes... And that'd be dreadful."

  "Let him come," replied Jim, grimly. "I hope he does. It would be a bad move for Mr. Darnell."

  "What would you do?" queried Gloriana, with all a woman's curiosity.

  "Glory, you're out West now. It'll take you some time to realise it... I'd impress that fact upon Mr. Darnell pretty pronto. And if it wasn't enough, I'd tell Curly Prentiss."

  "That wonderful-looking cowboy!" exclaimed Gloriana. "He seemed so kind and nice. He wouldn't hurt anyone."

  Jim laughed outright. Gloriana would be the tenderfoot of all tenderfeet who ever struck Arizona.

  "Glory, I'm engaged," he blurted out suddenly, with a gulp.

  "Jim Traft You've kept up that catty Sue Henderson," exclaimed Glory, incredulously.

  At first Jim could not connect any of his Missouri attachments of bygone days with that particular name. When he did he laughed, not only at Glory's absurd guess, but at the actual realisation. Ten times ten months might have elapsed since he left home.

  "No, Glory. My girl is a real Westerner," he replied.

  "Real Westerner? What do you mean by that? Uncle Jim was born in the East. He couldn't be Western."

  "He's pretty much so, as you will discover. Molly was born in Arizona. She's about eighteen. Twice in her life she has been to Flagerstown, and that is the extent of her travels. She lives down in the Cibeque, one of the wildest valleys in Arozona."

  "Molly--Molly what?" queried Glory, her white smooth brow wrinkling, and her fine eyes dilating and changing, as she bent them upon Jim.

  "Molly Dunn. Isn't it pretty?" rejoined Jim, warming to his subject. He had need to.

  "Rather. But fdort of common, like Jones or Brown. Is she pretty?"

  "Glory, I reckon there's only one prettier girl in the world, and that's you."

  It was a subtle and beautiful compliment, but somehow lost upon Gloriana May.

  "You were always getting a case on some girl--back home. It never lasted long," said his sister, reflectively.

  "This will last."

  "How about her family?" came the inevitable interrogation.

  "Arizona backwoods. And that's as blue-blooded as the skies out here," replied Jim, rising to the issue. "Her father was ruined by a range feud between cattlemen and sheepmen. Her mother has been a hardworking pioneer. You will learn what that means. Molly has one brother. Slinger Dunn. I don't know his first name. But the Slinger comes from his quickness and use with a gun. He has killed several men--and shot up I don't know how many."

  "Desperado?" gasped Gloriana.

  "Of course an Easterner would call him that. I did at first. But now he's just Slinger to me--and the very salt of the earth."

  Dismay, consternation, and sincere regret succeeded one another on Gloriana's expressive face.

  "Dad called me the black sheep of our family," she said. "But I'm afraid there are two... It'll kill Mother... Jim, they have no idea whatever of all this. Dad brags to his friends about you. How you are in charge of his brother's big cattle ranch. Nothing of this--this you tell me--ever crept into your letters. I know them by heart."

  "That's true, Glory. I left out the real stuff which was making me over. And besides, it all sort of bunched just lately... Look here." Jim unbuttoned his flannel shirt at the neck, and pulled his collar back to expose a big angry scar at his breast.

  "My heavens! what's that?" she queried, fearfully.

  "My dear sister, that's a bullet hole," he replied, not without pride.

  "You were shot?"

  "I should smile."

  "My God!--Jim, this is awful! You might have been killed."

  "Shore I might. I darn near was. I lay in the woods two days with that wound. Alone!"

  "And you can smile about it!" she ejaculated, her eyes dark with awe and fading terror.

  "It helped make a man of me."

  "Some desperado shot you?"

  "Yes, one of the real bad ones."

  "Oh, Jim," she cried. "I hope--I pray you--you didn't kill him."

  "It turned out I didn't, Glory--which was darn lucky. But at the time I'd have shot him to bits with great pleasure."

  "This terrible West has ruined you. Mother always said it would. And Dad would only laugh."

  "Nope, Glory. You've got it wrong. I'm not ruined by a long shot. And I hope you've sense and intelligence enough left to see it."

  "Jim. I've nothing left," she replied. "You're wild, strange to me--sort of cool and indifferent like that Prentiss fellow. I'm just terribly sorry this West has made you rough--crude. I know I'll hate it."

  "Glory, you just misunderstand," rejoined Jim, patiently. "It'll jar you at first--more than it did me. You were always a sensitive, high-strung thing. And your trouble has only made you worse. But please give the West and me the benefit of a doubt, before you condemn. Wait, Glory. I swear you will gain by that. Not have any regrets! Not hurt any of these Westerners."

  But he saw that he made no impression on her. He had shocked her, and it nettled him. She had quite forgotten already how kindly he had taken her dereliction.

  "Where is this Molly Dunn?" asked Gloriana, curiosity strong.

  "She's here."

  "In this house?"

  "Yes. She and her mother. I fetched them up from the Cibeque. Molly is going to school. It's great--and a little pathetic--the way she goes to study. Poor kid.--she had so little chance to learn... I expect to marry her in the spring, if I can persuade her."

  "Persuade her!" echoed Gloriana, with a wonderful flash of eyes. "I dare say that will be extremely difficult."

  "It probably will be," replied Jim, coolly. "Especially after she meets you. But Uncle Jim adores her and he's keen to see me married."

  "Well, I deserve it," mused Gloriana. "What?"

  "A dose of my own medicine."

  "Glory, I don't want to lose patience with you," said Jim, slowly, trying to keep his temper. "I can understand you, for I felt a little like you do when I landed out here... Now listen. I'm glad you've come to me. I'm sorry you've made mistakes and suffered through them. But they are really nothing. I predict the West will cure them in less than a year. You won't know yourself. You could not be dragged back to Missouri."

  Gloriana shook her beautiful head in doubt and sorrow.

  "If you only hadn't engaged yourself to this backwoods girl!" she said, mournfully. "But she saved my life," declared Jim, hotly. "She fought a fellow--one of those desperadoes you mentioned--fought him like a wild cat--bit him--hung on him with her teeth to keep him from murdering me as I sat tied hand and foot...saved my life until her brother Slinger got there to kill Jocelyn."

  "The wretch!"
exclaimed Gloriana, in passion and horror. Her face was white as alabaster and her eyes great dark gulfs of changing brilliance. "Did this Slinger Dunn really kill him?"

  "You bet he did. And two other desperadoes. They shot Slinger all up. He's in the hospital at Flag. I'll take you in to see him."

  "Wonderful!" breathed Gloriana, for the moment thrilled out of her disgust and horror. "But, Jim, why all this bloody murdering? I thought you worked on a cattle range."

  "I do. That's the trouble," said Jim, and forthwith launched into brief narrative of the drift fence and subsequent events which led up to his capture by the Cibeque gang, of Hack Jocelyn's arrival with Molly, who had consented to sacrifice herself to save Jim, of Jocelyn's treachery and how Molly fought to keep him from killing Jim until Slinger got there.

  When Jim concluded, there was ample evidence that Gloriana did not lack heart and soul, though they were glossed over by restraint and sophistication. This reassured Jim in his stubborn hope that Gloriana was undeveloped and needed only the hard and wholesome contacts she was sure to get in Arizona.

  "But, Jim, you can't marry a girl who bites like a little beast, no more than I could the brother who kills men," was Gloriana's grave reply.

  "I can't--can't I?" retorted Jim, goaded at the regurgitation of a forgotten phase of the Traft boy he had once been. "Well, I am going to marry her, and I'll think myself the luckiest fellow on earth."

  Plainly she thought he was out of his head or that Arizona had broken down his sense of values. But she did not voice either conviction.

  "Gloriana, I think I'd better take you in to meet Uncle Jim--and the Dunns," concluded Jim.

  "Yes, since it has to be," she replied, soberly. "Give me time to make myself presentable. Come back for me in fifteen minutes."

  "Sure. I'm curious to see what you call presentable," said Jim, and went out whistling. Nevertheless, his heart was heavy as he proceeded down the hall toward the living-room.

  Chapter SIX

  Jim found his uncle alone in the living-room. "Hey!" he said, "when are you going to trot my niece in?"

  "Pretty soon. She was tired and wants to clean up after the long ride."

  "How is she, Jim?" he asked, anxiously.

  "White and thin. Looks wonderful, though. You could have knocked me over with a feather, Uncle."

  "Wal, I reckon I'm plumb ready for mine."

  At this juncture Molly and her mother came in, and it was certain Jim had never seen Molly so pretty, so simply and becomingly attired. He did not see how Gloriana could help admiring her.

  "Oh, Jim, did your sister come?" she asked, eagerly.

  "You bet. Curly and the boys were there with me. It was a circus."

  "I shore reckon," agreed Molly, her eyes round and bright. She was excited, trembling a little.

  "I'll fetch Glory in pronto."

  Jim went out and thoughtfully wended his way to the west wing of the huge ranch-house. In a certain sense this event was a thrilling and happy one, but in the main it was shadowed by misgivings. He tapped at Gloriana's door, and at her call he entered.

  He stared. Was this lovely white creature Gloriana Traft? She wore a pale-blue dress, without sleeves, and cut somewhat low. She was slender, but there was not an ungraceful line about her. And she had a little colour in her cheeks, whether from excitement or from artificial means Jim could not tell.

  "Glory, if you let the boys see you in that rig we can't go on ranching," he said, with grave admiration.

  "Why not?" she asked, not knowing how to take him.

  "Because this place would beat the Pleasant Valley War all hollow. You just look like--like some beautiful sweet flower."

  His genuine praise brought more colour to her cheeks. "Thank you, Jim. It's nice to hear I look well. But this dress is nothing. I've some new ones and I'll have to wear them, even if your ranching can't go on... Guess I'd better put my coat around me. That hall was like Greenland's icy mountains."

  "This house is a big old barn. But the living-room is comfortable," said Jim as he replaced the screen before the fire.

  "Jim, if I catch cold again it'll be the end of little Glory."

  "Don't talk nonsense. This is a beginning for you, Glory," he replied, warmly, and he kissed her. Gloriana caught his hand and clung to it. Her action and the sudden flash of her face toward him gave Jim a clue to something he had not before guessed. Glory might resemble a proud, cold, aloof young princess, but she really was unconsciously hungering for love, kindness, sympathy. By that Jim judged how she had been hurt, and through it he divined he could win her.. Right there Jim decided on the attitude he would adopt with his sister.

  "Jim, my failure and disgrace do not alter the fact that I represent your family out here," she said, as they went out.

  The remark rather flustered Jim. He was not used to complexity, and he could find no words in which to reply. He hurried her down the hall to the living-room, and opened the door for her to enter. When he followed and closed it Gloriana had let her coat fall to the floor and was advancing quickly to meet the rancher.

  "Oh, Uncle Jim, I know you," she said, happily as if she had expected not to.

  "Wal--wal! So you're my niece Gloriana?" he replied, heartily, yet with incredulity. "I remember a big-eyed little girl back there in Missouri. But you can't be her."

  "Yes, I am, Uncle. I've merely grown up... I'm so glad to see you again." She gave him her hands and kissed him.

  "Wal, it can't be, but if you say so I'll have to believe," he said, quaintly. "I reckon I'm powerful pleased to have you come West... Gloriana, meet some friends of ours--Arizona folks from down country... Mrs. Dunn and her daughter Molly."

  "Gloriana, I'm shore happy to welcome you heah," said Molly, with simple sweet warmth. She was tremendously impressed--Jim had never seen her so pale--but there was no confusion for her in this meeting. Her eyes had a shining, earnest light. Jim could not have asked more. She was true to Molly Dunn. She was Western. She had stuff in her. Never in her life had she been subject to such an intense and penetrating look as Gloriana gave her. Jim's heart leaped to his throat. Was Glory going to turn out a terrible snob?

  "Molly Dunn! I'm glad to meet you," replied Gloriana, cordially, and she was quick to accept the shy advance of the Western girl. She met Molly's kiss halfway. Jim almost emitted audibly a repressed breath of relief. But he was not sanguine. Gloriana appeared the epitome of perfect breeding, and she was too fine to let the Western girl outdo her in being thoroughbred. Yet heart and soul were wanting. And Jim thought that if he felt it Molly must have, too.

  Uncle Jim beamed upon Gloriana and then upon Molly, and lastly upon his constrained nephew.

  "Jim, shore there's such a thing as luck," he said. "I reckon I didn't believe so once. But look there. An' think of your havin' a sister an' a sweetheart like them."

  It was a simple warm tribute from a lonely old bachelor who had given his heart to Molly and now shared it with Gloriana. But the compliment brought a blush to Gloriana's pale cheek and broke Molly's composure.

  "Wal, I don't know aboot it, as Curly would say," drawled Jim, far from feeling like Curly. "A man can have enough luck to kill him."

  This unexpected sally from him made the girls laugh and eased the situation. All took seats except Molly, who stood beside Gloriana's chair, plainly fascinated. It gave Jim a pang to see that Molly had already fallen in love with his sister. If Gloriana would only give the Western girl the smallest kind of a chance!

  Thereupon followed a half-hour of pleasant conversation, mostly for Gloriana's edification, and received by her with undisguised enthusiasm. Then she said she was very tired and begged to be excused.

  "Jim, take me back to my Indian wigwam. I'd never find it," she begged, and bade the others good-night.

  When back in Gloriana's room Jim stirred the fire and put on a few fresh sticks of wood.

  "Well?" he queried, presently, rising to face his sister, and he was quite conscious of the gruffness
of his voice.

  To Jim's surprise she placed a hand on each of his shoulders.

  "Jim, your Western girl is distractingly pretty, sweet as a wild flower, honest and good as gold--and far braver than I could have been. I saw what you couldn't see. Probably it was harder for her to meet me than that Hack fellow she--she bit to save your life. I'm your family, so to speak."

  "Thanks, Glory," replied Jim, somewhat huskily. "I--I was afraid--"

  "I'd not like her? Jim, I don't blame you for loving her. I did like her... But--and there's the rub--she is illiterate. She comes from an illiterate family. She's only a very common little person--and certainly not fit to be the wife of James Traft."

  "That's your Eastern point of view," returned Jim. "It might--though I don't admit it--be right if we were back home. But we're out West. I love the West. It has made me a man. It is now my home. I worship this 'common little person', as you call her. I think she is farthest removed from that. She's strong and true and big, and crude like this great raw West. And as I've thrown in my fortunes here I consider myself lucky to win such a girl... All of which, Glory, dear, is aside from the fact that but for her I'd be dead... But for Molly you wouldn't have had any brother to come to!"

  "Don't think me ungrateful," she rejoined, in hurried, shuddering earnestness. "I am...and indeed you talk like a man. I admire and respect you. But I had to tell you the ethics of it. I wouldn't be a Traft if I failed to tell you."

  "Then--you're not against us?" queried Jim, hopefully.

  "Jim, I disapprove. But it would be absurd for me to oppose. I have come to you for help--for a home--to find my chance in life, if there be one. Besides, I like Molly... The trouble will come not from me, but from her. Can't you see it? I don't think I ever was subjected to such study. Yet no trace of jealousy or bitterness! She was just being a woman seeing you, your family, your position through me. I saw fear in her eyes as she bade me good-night. That fear was not of me, or that I might come between you. It was a fear of realisation, of love. She ought not to marry you because she is Molly Dunn of the Cibeque! And, Jim, if she's really as strong and fine as it seems she is, she will not marry you."