The Texan Part 3

"You say you are not ready to many. You expect to marry, then, sometime?"

"I don't _expect_ to. I'm _going_ to."

"Will you marry me when you are ready?"

The girl laughed. "Yes, if I can't find the man I want, I think I shall. But he must be somewhere," she continued, after a pause during which her eyes centred upon the point where the two gleaming rails vanished into the distance. "He must be impractical, and human, and--and _elemental_. I'd rather be smashed to pieces in the Grand Canyon, than live for ever on the Erie Ca.n.a.l!"

"Aren't you rather unconventional in your tastes----?"

"If I'm not, I'm a total failure! I hate conventionality! And lines of least resistance! And practical things! It is the _men_ who are the real sticklers for convention. The same kind of men that follow the lines of least resistance and build their railroads along them--because it is practical!

"I don't see why you want to marry me!" she burst out resentfully.

"I'm not conventional, nor practical. And I'm not a line of least resistance!"

"But I love you. I have always loved you, and----"

The girl interrupted him with a quick little laugh, which held no trace of resentment. "Yes, yes, I know. I believe you do. And I'm glad because really, Winthrop, you're a dear. There are lots of things about you I admire. Your teeth, and eyes, and the way you wear your clothes. If you weren't so terribly conventional, so cut and dried, and matter of fact, and _safe_, I might fall really and truly in love with you. But--Oh, I don't know! Here I am, twenty-three. And I suppose I'm a little fool and have never grown up. I like to read stories about knights errant, and burglars, and fair ladies, and pirates, and mysterious dark oriental-looking men. And I like to go to places where everybody don't go--only Dad won't let me and---- Why just think!" she exclaimed in sudden wrath, "I've been in California for three months and I've ridden over the same trails everybody else has ridden over, and motored over the same roads and climbed the same mountains, and bathed at the same beach, and I've met everybody I ever knew in New York, just as I would have met them in Newport or Palm Beach or in Paris or Venice or Naples for that matter!"

"But why go off the beaten track where everything is arranged for your convenience? These people are experienced travellers. They know that by keeping to the conventional routes-----"

"Winthrop Adams Endicott, if you say that word again I'll shriek! Or I'll go in from this platform and not speak to you again--ever! You know very well that there isn't a traveller among them. They're just tourists--professional goers. They do the same things, and say the same things, and if they could think, they'd think the same things every place they go. And I don't want things arranged for my convenience--so there!"

Winthrop Adams Endicott lighted a cigarette, brushed some white dust from his sleeve, and smiled.

"If I were a man and loved a girl so very, very much I wouldn't just sit around and grin. I'd do something!"

"But, my dear Alice, what would you have me do? I'm not a knight errant, nor a burglar, nor a pirate, nor a dark mysterious oriental--I'm just a plain ordinary business man and----"

"Well, I'd do something--even if it was something awful like getting drunk or shooting somebody. Why, if you even had a past you wouldn't be so hopeless. I could love a man with a past. It would show at least, that he hadn't followed the line of the least resistance. The world is full of ca.n.a.ls--but there are only a few canyons. Look! I believe we're stopping! Oh, I hope it's a hold-up! What will you do if it is?" The train slowed to a standstill and Winthrop Adams Endicott leaned out and gazed along the line of the coaches.

"There is a little town here. Seems to be some commotion up ahead--quite a crowd. If I can get this blamed gate open we can go up and see what the trouble is."

"And if you can't get it open you can climb over and lift me down. I'm just dying to know what's the matter. And if you dare to say it wouldn't be conventional I'll--I'll jump!"

CHAPTER II

WOLF RIVER

A uniformed flagman, with his flag and a handful of torpedoes swung from the platform and started up the track.

"What's the trouble up in front?" asked the girl as Endicott a.s.sisted her to the ground.

"Cloud busted back in the mountains, an' washed out the trussle, an'

Second Seventy-six piled up in the river."

"Oh, a wreck?" she exclaimed. "Will we have time to go up and see it?"

"I'd say it's a wreck," grinned the trainman. "An' you've got all the time you want. We're a-goin' to pull in on the sidin' an' let the wrecker an' bridge crew at it. But even with 'em a-workin' from both ends it'll be tomorrow sometime 'fore they c'n get them box cars drug out an' a temp'ry trussle throw'd acrost."

"What town is this?"

"Town! Call it a town if you want to. It's Wolf River. It's a shippin' point fer cattle, but it hain't no more a town 'n what the crick's a river. The trussle that washed out crosses the crick just above where it empties into Milk River. I've railroaded through here goin' on three years an' I never seen no water in it to speak of before, an' mostly it's plumb dry."

The man sauntered slowly up the track as one who performs a merely nominal duty, and the girl turned to follow Endicott. "It would have been easier to walk through the train," he ventured, as he picked his way over the rough track ballast.

"Still seeking the line of least resistance," mocked the girl. "We can walk through a train any time. But we can't breathe air like this, and, see,--through that gap--the blue of the distant mountains!"

The man removed his hat and dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief.

"It's awfully hot, and I have managed to secrete a considerable portion of the railroad company's gravel in my shoes."

"Don't mind a little thing like that," retorted the girl sweetly.

"I've peeled the toes of both of mine. They look like they had scarlet fever."

Pa.s.sengers were alighting all along the train and hurrying forward to join those who crowded the scene of the wreck.

"It was a narrow escape for us," said Endicott as the two looked down upon the ma.s.s of broken cars about which the rapidly falling waters of the stream gurgled and swirled. "Had we not been running an hour late this train would in all probability, have plunged through the trestle."

"Was anybody hurt?" asked the girl. The train conductor nodded toward the heap of debris.

"No'm, the crew jumped. The fireman an' head brakeman broke a leg apiece, an' the rest got bunged up a little; but they wasn't no one hurt.

"I was just tellin' these folks," he continued, "that they'll be a train along on the other side in a couple of hours for to transfer the pa.s.sengers an' mail."

The girl turned to Endicott. "There isn't much to see here," she said.

"Let's look around. It's such a funny little town. I want to buy something at the store. And, there's a livery stable! Maybe we can hire horses and ride out where we can get a view of the mountains."

As the two turned toward the little cl.u.s.ter of frame buildings, a tall, horse-faced man clambered onto the pilot of the pa.s.senger locomotive and, removing his hat, proceeded to harangue the crowd. As they paused to listen Alice stared in fascination at the enormous Adam's apple that worked, piston-like above the neckband of the collarless shirt of vivid checks.

"Ladies an' gents," he began, with a comprehensive wave of the soft-brimmed hat. "Wolf River welcomes you in our town. An' while you're amongst us we aim to show you one an' all a good time. This here desastorious wreck may turn out to be a blessin' in disguise. As the Good Book says, it come at a most provincial time. Wolf River, ladies an' gents, is celebratin', this afternoon an' evenin', a event that marks an' epykak in our historious career: The openin' of the Wolf River Citizen's Bank, a reg'lar bonyfido bank with vaults, cashier, an'

a board of directors consistin' of her leadinist citizens, with the Honorable Mayor Maloney president, which I introdoose myself as.

"In concludin' I repeet that this here is ondoubtfully the luckiest wreck in the lives of any one of you, which it gives you a unpressagented chanct to see with your own eyes a hustlin' Western town that hain't ashamed to stand on her own legs an' lead the world along the trail to prosperity.

"Wolf River hain't a braggin' town, ladies an' gents, but I defy any one of you to name another town that's got more adjacent an' contigitus territory over which to grow onto. We freely admit they's a few onconsequential improvements which is possessed by some bigger an' more notorious cities such as sidewalks, sewers, street-gradin', an' lights that we hain't got yet. But Wolf River is a day an' night town, ladies an' gents, combinin' business with pleasure in just the right perportion, which it's plain to anyone that takes the trouble to investigate our shippin' corrals, four general stores, one _ho_tel, an'

seven saloons, all of which runs wide open twenty-four hours a day an'

is accommodated with faro, roulette, an' poker outfits fer the benefit of them that's so inclined to back their judgment with a little money.

"In concloodin' I'll say that owin' to the openin' of the bank about which I was tellin' you of, Wolf River is holdin' the followin'

programme which it's free to everyone to enter into or to look on at.

"They'll be a ropin' contest, in which some of our most notorious ropers will rope, throw, an' hog-tie a steer, in the least shortness of time. The prizes fer this here contest is: First prize, ten dollars, doneated by the directors of the bank fer which's openin' this celebration is held in honour of. Second prize, one pair of pants doneated by the Montana Mercantile Company. Third prize, one quart of bottle in bond whiskey doneated by our pop'lar townsman an' leadin'

citizen, Mr. Jake Grimshaw, proprietor of The Long Horn Saloon.

"The next contest is a buckin' contest, in which some of our most notorious riders will ride or get bucked offen some of our most fameous outlaw horses. The prizes fer this here contest is: First, a pair of angory chaps, doneated by the directors of the bank about which I have spoke of before. Second prize, a pair of spurs doneated by the Wolf River Tradin' Company. Third prize, a coffin that was ordered by Sam Long's wife from the Valley Outfittin' Company, when Sam had the apendiceetis of the stummick, an' fer which Sam refused to pay fer when he got well contrary to expectations.

"Both these here contests is open to ladies an' gents, both of which is invited to enter. They will also be hoss racin', fancy an' trick ridin', an' shootin', fer all of which sootable prizes has be'n pervided, as well as fer the best lookin' man an' the homliest lady an'