The Ramblin' Kid Part 17

"I doubt if th' Ramblin' Kid will let you ride the filly," Parker said, "he's funny that way--"

"I think he will," Carolyn June interposed. "I'll steal her if no other way!"

"Maybe he will, but it's doubtful," Parker continued, "but Old Heck is aiming to get you a saddle. He spoke about it this morning when we were getting the car out to go to town--"

"Dear old uncle," Carolyn June said warmly, "I love him already--don't you, Ophelia?"

Parker colored and looked quickly, with a worried expression on his face, at the widow. She flushed also.

"That's personal, my dear," she answered, "and rather abrupt!"

Parker went out to put the Clagstone "Six" in the garage.

"Carolyn June," Ophelia said when they were alone, "I have made a discovery--"

"It is?" questioningly.

"That western Texas is the 'quickest' country in the world!" the widow answered.

"Please explain," Carolyn June said, "although," demurely, with certain memories fresh in her mind, "I fancy I can almost guess--"

"Yesterday," Ophelia continued rather breathlessly, "we arrived at the Quarter Circle KT; last night at the supper table I met Mr. Parker for the first time; ten minutes later he kicked me--accidentally, I think--on the shins; I saw him again at breakfast this morning; to-day we drove to Eagle b.u.t.te and this afternoon"--she paused and then with a quick, nervous laugh finished--"he asked me to marry him!"

"Good lord," Carolyn June gasped, "that is--'p.r.o.nto'--as these cowboys say! 'Quick' with a vengeance! There must be something in this western air that makes them do it!"

"It was all I could do this morning to keep Skinny from--" she started to say, then shifted again to the subject of Parker. "Did he know that you are--"

"National Organizer for the 'Movement,'" Ophelia filled in. "Yes, I had already confessed. I told him as we were driving to town--and the other--the shock--came just after we crossed the bridge when we were returning home!"

"He is a bold, dangerous man!" Carolyn June exclaimed, in mock seriousness, "trying to get ahead of Uncle Josiah!"

"I inferred as much," the widow explained; "he told me that to-morrow would be your uncle's 'day'--whatever he meant by that; the next he, Mr.

Parker himself, would be 'around' again. 'Unless Old Heck took some fool notion or other;' before long he would be away on the beef hunt and one can never tell what might happen while one is gone and, well, that's the way he felt about it, so he just said it--"

"And you?"

"Naturally was completely surprised, entirely non-committal, and made no definite agreement!" Ophelia laughed softly.

CHAPTER IX

OLD HECK'S STRATEGY

It was late when Old Heck and the cowboys returned to the ranch. The runaway cattle had been overtaken on the sand-hills beyond the North Springs and it took the entire afternoon to bunch them and work the restless animals back to the Quarter Circle KT, into the big pasture, and repair the fence so it was safe to leave them for the night.

Ophelia, Carolyn June and Parker were in the front room when Old Heck and the hungry cowboys clattered, long after dark, into the kitchen for the supper Sing Pete had kept warm for them.

After the meal Skinny went into the room where Parker and the women were. Old Heck followed and talked for a few moments with Parker about the affairs of the ranch, then joined the cowboys at the bunk-house where they had gone directly after leaving the table. On Skinny's bed Parker had tossed a bundle.

"What in thunder do you reckon Skinny's been buying, now?" Chuck questioned as he picked up the package and examined it curiously.

"Blamed if it don't feel like a shirt."

"I'll bet that's what it is," Bert said with a laugh as Old Heck stepped inside the door, "the darn fool has gone and got him a white shirt--"

"Who has?" Old Heck asked, hearing only the latter part of Bert's remark.

"Skinny," Charley answered for Bert, "he's fixing up to make love in style--"

"Aw, the blamed idiot," Old Heck grunted, then glancing over toward Parker's bed: "--Did you notice whether Parker got him one, too, or not?"

Before the question was answered Parker and Skinny appeared at the bunk-house door.

"What's the matter?" Chuck said, still holding the bundle in his hand, "--ain't it too early for lovers to bu'st up for the night? Or did the widow and Carolyn June blow out the lights on you--"

"Forget it, you danged fool!" Skinny said crossly. "Can't you ever get over your dog-goned craziness? They was just tired and went to bed. Give me that package, it's mine and private!" reaching for the bundle.

Chuck, with a laugh, threw it at him. It landed on the Ramblin' Kid's bunk where the latter was lying, his clothing still on, his eyes staring straight up while he smoked a cigarette.

"When are you going to ride the Gold Dust maverick?" Skinny asked as he picked up the package.

For a moment the Ramblin' Kid did not answer. Then, without changing his position, replied:

"I don't know as I'll ever ride her. Maybe I'll turn her loose again on th' range."

"What did you catch her for?" Bert queried. "Don't you want her?"

"I caught her, 'cause I wanted to," the Ramblin' Kid answered, "but that ain't no sign I intend to keep her. h.e.l.l, what's the use?" he finished indifferently.

"If you want to sell her," Old Heck said, "I'll buy her."

"She ain't for sale," the Ramblin' Kid answered shortly, "not to anybody."

"She would be a thunderin' sight better off if she was used."

"Would she?" the Ramblin' Kid questioned dully. "I ain't so sure about that."

"Of course she would," Old Heck insisted, "she'd be fed regular and--"

"An' be mauled around by some darned human!" the Ramblin' Kid interrupted with sudden vehemence. "If I was a horse," he continued, speaking pa.s.sionately while his black eyes burned with the spirit of rebellion, "I'd rather be a short-gra.s.s cay-use nippin' th' scatterin'

feed on th' north hills an' be free to snort an' raise h.e.l.l when I blamed please than have my belly stuffed with alfalfa hay three times a day an' have to gnaw th' iron of some d.a.m.ned man's bit in my mouth or carry his saddle on my back!"

Silence followed the outburst.

Old Heck and the cowboys knew the Ramblin' Kid was in one of his "moods," and experience had taught them that at such times argument was neither discreet nor safe. The thing they did not know was that his heart was torn by memory of the agony of Old Blue in the quicksand and his mind tortured by the picture of dumb suffering a bullet from his own gun had, that morning, mercifully ended.