The Cattle-Baron's Daughter Part 55

"Boys," said Clavering, "are you going to be beaten by Larry again?"

There was a trampling of hoofs as some of the cow-boys edged their horses closer, and the murmurs grew louder; but Cheyne flung up one hand.

"Another word, and I'll arrest you, Mr. Clavering," he said. "Sling those rifles, all of you! I have another troop with horses picketed behind the bluff."

There was sudden silence until the Sheriff spoke. "Boys," he said, "don't be blamed fools when it isn't any use. Larry has come out on top again.

But I don't know that I am sorry I have done with him and the cattle-men."

The men made no further sign of hostility, and Cheyne turned to the Sheriff. "Thank you," he said. "Now, I have to inform you that this district is under martial law, and I have been entrusted, within limits, with jurisdiction. If you and Mr. Clavering have any offences to urge against Grant, I shall be pleased to hear you. In that case you can tell your men to picket their horses, and follow me to our bivouac."

The two men dismounted, and while Hetty sat trembling amidst the birches talked for half an hour in Cheyne's tent. Then, Clavering, who saw that they were gaining little, lost his head, and stood up white with anger.

"We are wasting time," he said. "Still, I warn you that the State will hold you responsible if you turn that man loose again. Our wishes can still command a certain attention in high places."

Cheyne smiled coldly. "I shall be quite prepared to account for whatever I do. The State, I fancy, is not to be dictated to by the cattle-men's committees. It is, of course, no affair of mine, but I can't help thinking that it will prove a trifle unfortunate for one or two of you that, when you asked for more cavalry, you were listened to."

"Well," said the Sheriff dejectedly, "I quite fancy it will be; but I'm not going to worry. The cattle-men made it blamed unpleasant for me. What was I superseded for, any way?"

"Incapacity and corruption, I believe," Cheyne said drily.

Clavering stood still a moment, with an unpleasant look in his eyes, but the Sheriff, who seemed the least disconcerted, touched his arm.

"You come along before you do something you will be sorry for," he said.

"I'm not anxious for any unnecessary trouble, and it would have been considerably more sensible if I had stood in with the homestead-boys."

They went away, and Cheyne led Larry, who had been confronted with them, back to where Hetty was sitting.

"I understand the men left your father behind, some distance back," he said. "He was more fatigued than the rest and his horse went lame. Your husband's case will have consideration, but I scarcely fancy he need have any great apprehension, and I must try to make you comfortable in the meanwhile."

Hetty glanced up at him with her eyes shining and quivering lips. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Larry, I am so tired."

Cheyne called an orderly, and ten minutes later led her to a tent. "Your husband placed you in my charge, and I must ask for obedience," he said.

"You will eat and drink what you see there, and then go to sleep. I will take good care of Mr. Grant."

He drew Larry away and sat talking with him for a while, then bade an orderly find him a waterproof sheet and rug. Larry was asleep within ten minutes, and the moon was shining above the bluff when he awakened and moved to the tent where Hetty lay. Drawing back the canvas, he crept in softly and dropped almost reverently on one knee beside her. He could hear her faint, restful breathing, and the little hand he felt for was pleasantly cool. As he stooped and touched her forehead with his lips, the fingers closed a trifle on his own, and the girl moved in her sleep.

"Larry," she said drowsily, "Larry, dear!"

Grant drew his hand away very softly, and went out with his heart throbbing furiously, to find Cheyne waiting in the vicinity. His face showed plain in the moonlight, and it was quietly grave; but Grant once more saw the expression in it that had astonished him. Now, however, he understood it, and Cheyne knew that he did so. They stood quite still a moment, looking into each other's eyes.

"Mrs. Grant is resting well?" Cheyne asked.

"Yes," said Larry. "I owe a good deal to you."

It did not express what they felt, but they understood each other, and Cheyne smiled a little. "You need not thank me yet. Your case will require consideration, and if the new Sheriff urges his predecessor's charge, I shall pa.s.s it on. In the meantime I have sent to Windsor for a buggy, in which you can take Mrs. Grant away to-morrow."

It was early next morning when the buggy arrived, and Cheyne, who ordered two troopers to lead the hired horses, had a hasty breakfast served. When the plates had been removed he turned to Hetty with a smile.

"I have decided to release your husband--on condition that he drives straight back to his homestead and stays there with you," he said. "The State has undertaken to keep order and give every man what he is ent.i.tled to now; and if we find Mr. Grant has a finger in any further trouble, I shall blame you."

He handed Hetty into the buggy, pa.s.sed the reins to Larry, and stood alone looking after them as they drove away. Hetty turned to her husband, with a blush in her cheek.

"Larry," she said softly, "I have something to tell you."

Grant checked her with a smile. "I have guessed it already; and it means a new responsibility."

"I don't understand," said Hetty.

Again the little twinkle showed in Larry's eyes. "Well," he said quietly, "that you should have taken me when you had men of his kind to choose from means a good deal. I wouldn't like you to find out that you had been mistaken, Hetty."

x.x.xI

TORRANCE RIDES AWAY

It was late at night, and Miss Schuyler, sitting alone in Hetty's room, found the time pa.s.s very heavily. She had raised her voice in warning when the cow-boys mounted the night Grant had ridden away with Hetty, and had seen the fugitives vanish into the darkness, but since then she had had no news of them, for while Breckenridge had arrived at Cedar the next day, in custody of two mounted men, n.o.body would tell him what had really happened. Her first impulse had been to ask for an escort to the depot and take the cars for New York, but she was intensely anxious to discover whether Hetty had evaded pursuit, and her pride forbade her slipping away without announcing her intention to Torrance, who had not yet come back to the Range. She felt that something was due to him, especially as she had not regained the house unnoticed when the pursuit commenced.

Rising, she moved restlessly up and down the room; but that in no way lessened the suspense, and sitting down again she resolutely took up a book, but she listened instead of reading it. There was, however, no sound from the prairie, and the house seemed exasperatingly still.

"You will have to shake this nervousness off or you will make a fool of yourself before that man," she muttered.

She felt that she had sat there a very long while, though the clock showed that scarcely an hour had pa.s.sed, when at last there was a rattle of wheels and a trampling of hoofs outside. The great door opened, and after that there was an apparently interminable silence, until Hetty's maid came in.

"If it is convenient, Mr. Torrance would like to speak to you," she said.

Flora Schuyler rose and followed the girl down the corridor; but her heart beat faster than usual when the door of Torrance's room closed behind her.

The stove was no longer lighted, and Torrance stood beside the hearth, which was littered with half-consumed papers, and Miss Schuyler, who knew his precision in dress, noticed that he still wore the bespattered garments he had ridden in. But it was the grimness of his face, and the weariness in his pose, which seized her attention and aroused a curious sympathy for him. He glanced at her sharply, with stern, dark eyes.

"I have to thank you for coming, but I am going to talk plainly," he said.

"You connived at the meetings between my daughter and the rascally adventurer who has married her?"

"They are married?" exclaimed Miss Schuyler in her eagerness, and the next moment felt the blood rise to her face as she realized that she had blundered in admitting any doubt upon the subject. "I mean, of course, that I wondered whether Mr. Grant could have arranged it so soon."

"You seem to attach a good deal of importance to the ceremony," Torrance said, with a bitter smile. "Marriage is quite easy in this country."

Miss Schuyler was not deficient in courage of one kind, and she looked at him steadily. "I came down to speak to you because it seemed your due,"

she said, "but I have no intention of listening to any jibes at my friends."

Torrance made her a little half-respectful and half-ironical inclination.

"Then will you be good enough to answer my question?"

"Though most of the few meetings were accidental, I went with Hetty intentionally on two occasions because it seemed fitting."

"It seemed fitting that a girl should betray her father to the man who wanted to ruin him, supply him with the dollars that helped him in his scheme, and, more than all, warn him of each move we made! Well, my standard is not very high, but the most cruel blow I have had to bear was the discovery that my daughter had fallen so far."

The hoa.r.s.eness of his voice, and the sight of the damp upon his forehead, had a calming effect upon Miss Schuyler. Her anger against the old man had given place to pity, for she decided that what had pa.s.sed would have excited most men's suspicions, and it was not in Hetty's defence alone she made an effort to undeceive him.