The Cattle-Baron's Daughter Part 14

"They have taken the homesteaders out. The Sheriff has backed down."

A roar followed that expressed approbation and disgust; it was evident that the sympathies of the citizens were divided. In the momentary silence Grant's voice rang out:

"Sling rifles! Keep your order and distance! Forward, boys!"

Again a hoa.r.s.e cry went up, but there was only applause in it now, for the crowd recognized the boldness of the command and opened out, pressing back against the houses as the little band rode forward. Their silence was impressive, but the leader knew his countrymen, for, while taunts and display would have courted an onset, n.o.body seemed anxious to obstruct the men who sat unconcernedly in their saddles, with the rifles which alone warranted their daring disdainfully slung behind them.

On they went past cl.u.s.ters of wondering citizens, shouting sympathizers, and silent cattle-men, until there was a hoot of derision, and, perhaps in the hope of provoking a conflict in which the rest would join, a knot of men pushed out into the street from the verandah of the wooden hotel.

Grant realized that a rash blow might unloose a storm of pa.s.sion and rouse to fury men who were already regretting their supineness.

"Keep your pace and distance!" he commanded.

Looking straight in front of them, shadowy and silent, the leading four rode on, and once more the crowd melted from in front of them. As the last of the band pa.s.sed through the opening that was made for them a man laughed as he turned in his saddle.

"We can't stay any longer, boys, but it wasn't your fault. It's a man you want for Sheriff," he said.

"No talking there! Gallop!" said Grant, and the hors.e.m.e.n flitted across the railroad track, and with a sinking thud of hoofs melted into the prairie. They had accomplished their purpose, and the cattle-men, going back disgustedly to remonstrate with the Sheriff, for a while failed to find him.

IX

THE PRISONER

The prairie was shining white in the moonlight with the first frost when Torrance, Hetty, and Miss Schuyler drove up to Allonby's ranch. They were late in arriving and found a company of neighbours already a.s.sembled in the big general room. It was panelled with cedar from the Pacific slope, and about the doors and windows were rich hangings of tapestry, but the dust was thick upon them and their beauty had been wasted by the moth.

Tarnished silver candlesticks and lamps which might have come from England a century ago, and a scarred piano littered with tattered music, were in keeping with the tapestry; for signs of taste were balanced by those of neglect, while here and there a roughly patched piece of furniture conveyed a plainer hint that dollars were scanty with Allonby. He was from the South, a spare, grey-haired man, with a stamp of old-fashioned dignity, and in his face a sadness not far removed from apathy and which, perhaps, accounted for the condition of his property.

His guests, among whom were a number of young men and women, were, however, apparently light-hearted, and had whiled away an hour or two with song and badinage. A little removed from them, in a corner with the great dusty curtain of a window behind her, sat Hetty Torrance with Allonby's nephew and daughter. Miss Allonby was pale and slight and silent; but her cousin united the vivacity of the Northerner with the distinction that is still common in the South, and--for he was very young--Hetty found a mischievous pleasure in noticing his almost too open admiration for Flora Schuyler, who sat close beside them. A girl was singing indifferently, and when she stopped, Miss Allonby raised her head as a rhythmical sound became audible through the closing chords of the piano.

"Somebody riding here in a hurry!" she said.

It was significant that the hum of voices which followed the music ceased as the drumming of hoofs grew louder; the women looked anxious and the men glanced at one another. Tidings brought in haste were usually of moment then. Torrance, however, stood up and smiled at the a.s.sembly.

"I guess some of those rascally rustlers have been driving off a steer again," he said. "Can't you sing us something, Clavering?"

Clavering understood him, and it was a rollicking ballad he trolled out with verve and spirit; but still, though none of the guests now showed it openly, the anxious suspense did not abate, and by and by Miss Allonby smiled at the lad beside her somewhat drily.

"Never mind the story, Chris. I guess we know the rest. That man is riding hard, and you are as anxious as any of us," she said.

A minute or two later there was a murmur of voices below, and Allonby went out. n.o.body appeared to notice this, but the hum of somewhat meaningless talk which followed and the strained look in one or two of the women's faces had its meaning. Every eye was turned towards the doorway until Allonby came back and spoke with Torrance apart. Then he smiled rea.s.suringly upon his guests.

"You will be pleased to hear that some of our comrades have laid hands upon one of the leaders in the attack upon the jail," he said. "They want to lodge him here until they can send for the Sheriff's posse, and of course I could only agree. Though the State seems bent on treating us somewhat meanly, we are, I believe, still loyal citizens, and I feel quite sure you will overlook any trifling inconvenience the arrival of the prisoner may cause you."

"Doesn't he put it just a little curiously?" suggested Flora Schuyler.

"Well," said Christopher Allonby, "it really isn't nice to have one of our few pleasant evenings spoiled by this kind of thing."

"You don't understand. I am quite pleased with your uncle, but there's something that amuses me in the idea of jailing one's adversary from patriotic duty."

Christopher Allonby smiled. "There's a good deal of human nature in most of us, and it's about time we got even with one or two of them."

"Find out about it, Chris," said Miss Allonby; "then come straight back and tell us."

The young man approached a group of his elders who were talking together, and returned by and by.

"It was done quite smartly," he said. "One of the homestead boys who had fallen out with Larry came over to us, and I fancy it was Clavering fixed the thing up with him. The boys didn't know he had deserted them, and the man he took the oats to believed in him."

"I can't remember you telling a tale so one could understand it, Chris,"

said Miss Allonby. "Why did he take the oats to him?"

The lad laughed. "They have their committees and executives, and when a man has to do anything they send a few grains of oats to him. One can't see much use in it, and we know 'most everything about them; but it makes the thing kind of impressive, and the rustler fancied our boy was square when he got them. He was to ride over alone and meet somebody from one of the other executives at night in a bluff. He went, and found a band of cattle-boys waiting for him. I believe he hadn't a show at all, for the man who went up to talk to him grabbed his rifle, but it seems he managed to damage one or two of them."

"You don't know who he is?" asked Miss Allonby; and Flora Schuyler noticed a sudden intentness in Hetty's eyes.

"No," said the lad, "but the boys will be here with him by and by, and I'm glad they made quite sure of him, any way."

Hetty's eyes sparkled. "You can't be proud of them! It wasn't very American."

"Well, we can't afford to be too particular, considering what we have at stake; though it might have sounded nicer if they had managed it differently. You don't sympathize with the homestead boys, Miss Torrance?"

"Of course not!" said Hetty, with a little impatient gesture. "Still, that kind of meanness does not appeal to me. Even the men we don't like would despise it. They rode into the town without a cartridge in their rifles, and took out their friends in spite of the Sheriff, while the crowd looked on."

"It was Larry Grant fixed that, and 'tisn't every day you can find a man like him. It 'most made me sick when I heard he had gone over to the rabble."

"You were a friend of his?" asked Flora Schuyler.

"Oh, yes;" and a little shadow crept into Allonby's face. "But, that's over now. When a man goes back on his own folks there's only one way of treating him, and it's not going to be nice for Larry if we can catch him.

We're in too tight a place to show the man who can hurt us most much consideration."

Hetty turned her head a moment, and then changed the subject, but not before Flora Schuyler noticed the little flush in her cheek. The music, laughter, and gay talk began again, and if anyone remembered that while they chased their cares away grim men who desired their downfall toiled and planned, no sign of the fact was visible.

Twenty minutes pa.s.sed, and then the thud of hoofs once more rose from the prairie. It swelled into a drumming that jarred harsh and portentous through the music, and Hetty's attention to the observations of her companions became visibly less marked. One by one the voices also seemed to sink, and it was evidently a relief to the listeners when a girl rose and closed the piano. Somebody made an effort to secure attention to a witty story, and there was general laughter, but it also ceased, and an impressive silence followed. Out of it came the jingle of bridles and trampling of hoofs, as the men outside pulled up, followed by voices in the hall, and once more Allonby went out.

"They're right under this window," said his nephew. "Slip quietly behind the curtains, and I think you can see them."

Flora Schuyler drew the tapestry back, the rest followed her and Christopher Allonby flung it behind them, so that it shut out the light.

In a moment or two their eyes had become accustomed to the change, and they saw a little group of mounted men close beneath. Two of them dismounted, and appeared to be speaking to some one at the door, but the rest sat with their rifles across their saddles and a prisoner in front of them. His hat was crushed and battered, his jacket rent, and Flora Schuyler fancied there was a red trickle down his cheek; but his face was turned partly away from the window, and he sat very still, apparently with his arms bound loosely at the wrists.

"All these to make sure of one man, and they have tied his hands!" she said.

Hetty noticed the ring in her companion's voice, and Allonby made a little deprecatory gesture.

"It's quite evident they had too much trouble getting him to take any chances of losing him," he said. "I wish the fellow would turn his head. I fancy I should know him."

A tremor ran through Hetty for she also felt she recognized that tattered figure. Then one of the hors.e.m.e.n seized the captive's bridle, and the man made a slight indignant gesture as the jerk flung off his hands. Flora Schuyler closed her fingers tight.