What Uncle Jepson Heard
: The Range BossEvery detail of the killing of Jim Pickett remained vivid in Ruth's
recollection. She felt that she would never forget it. But her horror
gradually abated, and at the end of a week she was able to look at
Randerson without shuddering. During the week she had evaded him. And he,
divining the state of her feelings, kept away from the house as much as
possible.
Masten's demeanor on hearing of the insult that
Pickett had seemed that of a man who was lacking in courage: at the time
she had not been able to make it conform to her ideas of a man's duty to
the woman he had promised to marry--or to any woman. She had heard him
speak of reason in connection with the affair, as though there were no
such thing in the world as rage so justifiable as to make a man yearn to
inflict punishment upon another man who had attacked his woman. He had
looked upon the matter cold-bloodedly, and she had resented that. But now
that she had been avenged, she felt that she had been wrong. It had been
such a trivial thing, after all; the punishment seemed monstrous in
comparison with it. She had seen Pickett's movement when Randerson had
momentarily turned his back to him, but she had also seen Randerson's
retaliatory movement. She had known then, that Randerson had expected
Pickett's action, and that he had been prepared for it, and therefore it
seemed to her that in forcing the trouble Randerson had not only foreseen
the ending but had even courted it.
Remorse over her momentary doubt of Masten's motive in refusing to call
Pickett to account, afflicted her. He had been wiser than she; he had
traced the line that divided reason from the primitive passions--man from
beast. His only reference to the incident--a wordless one, which she felt
was sufficiently eloquent--came when one day, while they were standing
beside the corral fence, looking at the horses, they saw Randerson riding
in. Masten nodded toward him and shook his head slowly from side to side,
compressing his lips as he did so. And then, seeing her looking at him,
he smiled compassionately, as though to say that he regretted the killing
of Pickett as well as she.
She seized his arm impulsively.
"I was wrong, Willard," she said.
"Wrong, dear?" he said. "It wasn't your fault."
"But I thought--things about you that I shouldn't have thought. I felt
that you ought to have punished Pickett. I am glad, now, that you
didn't." She shuddered, and looked again at Randerson, just dismounting
at the bunkhouse, paying no attention to them.
"Then you wouldn't have me like him?" He indicated Randerson.
"No," she said.
He gave her shoulder a slight pressure, and turning his head, smiled
triumphantly.
Later, when they had walked to a far corner of the pasture, talking
confidentially and laughing a little, he halted and drew her close to
him.
"Ruth," he said, gently, "the world is going very well for you now. You
are settled here, you like it, and things are running smoothly. Why not
take a ride over to Lazette one of these days. There is a justice of the
peace over there. It won't need to be a formal affair, you know. Just on
the quiet--a sort of a lark. I have waited a long time," he coaxed.
She smiled at his earnestness. But that spark which he had tried in vain
to fan into flame still smoldered. She felt no responsive impulse; a
strange reluctance dragged at her.
"Wait, Willard," she said, "until after the fall round-up. There is no
hurry. We are sure of each other."
They went on toward the ranchhouse. When they passed the bunkhouse, and
through the open door saw Randerson and Uncle Jepson sitting on a bench
smoking, Ruth quickened her step, and Masten made a grimace of hatred.
* * * * *
Inside the bunkhouse, Uncle Jepson, who had been speaking, paused long
enough to wrinkle his nose at Masten. Randerson's expression did not
change; it was one of grave expectancy.
"You was sayin'--" he prompted, looking at Uncle Jepson.
"That the whole darned deal was a frame-up," declared Uncle Jepson. "I
was settin' in the messhouse along in the afternoon of the day of the
killin'--smokin' an' thinkin', but most of the time just settin', I
cal'late, when I heard Chavis an' Pickett talkin' low an' easy outside.
They was a crack in the wall, an' I plastered one ear up ag'in it, an'
took in all they was sayin'. First, they was talkin' about the bad
feelin' between you an' Pickett. Pickett said he wanted to 'git' you, an'
that Masten wanted to get you out of the way because of what you'd done
to him at Calamity. But I reckon that ain't the real reason; he's got
some idea that you an' Ruth--"
"Shucks," said Randerson impatiently.
"Anyway," grinned Uncle Jepson, "for some reason, he don't want you
hangin' around. Far as I could gather, Pickett wanted some excuse to have
you fire him, so's he could shoot you. He talked some to Masten about it,
an' Masten told him to tackle Ruth, but not to get too rough about it,
an' not to go too far."
"Great guns! The low-down, mean, sneakin'--" said Randerson. His eyes
were glowing; his words came with difficulty through his straightened
lips.
"Masten wouldn't take it up, he told Pickett," went on Uncle Jepson.
"He'd put it up to you. An' when you'd tackle Pickett about it, Pickett
would shoot you. If they was any chance for Chavis to help along, he'd do
it. But mostly, Pickett was to do the job. I cal'late that's about
all--except that I layed for you an' told you to look out."
"You heard this talk after--after Pickett had--"
"Of course," growled Uncle Jepson, a venomous flash in his eyes, slightly
reproachful.
"Sure--of course," agreed Randerson. He was grim-eyed; there was cold
contempt in the twist of his lips. He sat for a long time, silent,
staring out through the door, Uncle Jepson watching him, subdued by the
look in his eyes.
When he spoke at last, there was a cold, bitter humor in his voice.
"So that's Willard's measure!" he said. "He grades up like a side-winder
slidin' under the sagebrush. There's nothin' clean about him but his
clothes. But he's playin' a game--him an' Chavis. An' I'm the guy they're
after!" He laughed, and Uncle Jepson shivered. "She's seen one killin',
an' I reckon, if she stays here a while longer, she'll see another:
Chavis'." He stopped and then went on: "Why, I reckon Chavis dyin'
wouldn't make no more impression on her than Pickett dyin'. But I reckon
she thinks a heap of Willard, don't she, Uncle Jep?" "If a girl
promises--" began Uncle Jepson.
"I reckon--" interrupted Randerson. And then he shut his lips and looked
grimly out at the horses in the corral.
"Do you reckon she'd--" Randerson began again, after a short silence.
"No," he answered the question himself, "I reckon if you'd tell her she
wouldn't believe you. No good woman will believe anything bad about the
man she loves--or thinks she loves. But Willard--"
He got up, walked out the door, mounted Patches and rode away. Going to
the door, Uncle Jepson watched him until he faded into the shimmering
sunshine of the plains.
"I cal'late that Willard--"
But he, too, left his speech unfinished, as though thought had suddenly
ceased, or speculation had become futile and ridiculous.
More
-
At Calamity Crossing
Getting up the shoulder of the mesa was no easy job, but judging from the actions and appearance of wiry pony and rider it was a job that would be accomplished. For part of the distance, it is true, the man thought it best to dismount, drive the p... A Memory Of The Rider
A quiet satisfaction shone from Ruth's eyes when, accompanied by Aunt Martha and Uncle Jepson, she completed her inspection of the ranchhouse. "It isn't all that could be desired," she told Aunt Martha, "but it is better than I expected." "It... The Law Of The Primitive
Randerson continued his policy of not forcing himself upon Ruth. He went his way, silent, thoughtful, attending strictly to business. To Ruth, watching him when he least suspected it, it seemed that he had grown more grim and stern-looking since h... The Runaway Comes Home
Masten's note to Ruth contained merely the information that he was going to Lazette, and that possibly he might not return for two weeks. He hinted that he would probably be called upon to go to Santa Fe on business, but if so he would apprise her... The Sympathetic Rescuer
Halfway down the slope, the rider turned and saw that Willard and the occupants of the buckboard were watching him. The color in his cheeks grew deeper and his embarrassment increased, for he noted that the girl had faced squarely around toward hi... Two Are Taught Lessons
There was one other thing that Ruth did not know--the rage that dwelt in Randerson's heart against Chavis and Kester. He had shown no indication of it when she had related to him the story of her adventure with the men, nor did he mention it to an... How An Insult Was Avenged
As the days passed, it became plain to Ruth, as it did to everyone else on the ranch--Chavis, Pickett, and Masten included--that Vickers had not talked extravagantly in recommending Randerson. Uncle Jepson declared that "he took right a-hold," and... Ready Gun And Clean Heart
Uncle Jepson understood the cow-punchers because he understood human nature, and because he had a strain of the wild in him that had been retained since his youth. Their simplicity, their directness, had been his own; their frankness and generosit... What Uncle Jepson Heard
Every detail of the killing of Jim Pickett remained vivid in Ruth's recollection. She felt that she would never forget it. But her horror gradually abated, and at the end of a week she was able to look at Randerson without shuddering. During the w... The Rock And The Moonlight
Randerson did not leave the scene of the fight immediately. He stood for a long time, after buckling on his belt and pistols, looking meditatively toward the break in the canyon beyond which was Catherson's shack. "Did the dresses have anything ... Somethin's Gone Out Of Them
As Randerson rode Patches through the break in the canyon wall in the afternoon of a day about a week after his talk with Uncle Jepson in the bunkhouse, he was thinking of the visit he intended to make. He had delayed it long. He had not seen Abe ... Into Which A Girl's Trouble Comes
Uncle Jepson and Aunt Martha had not seen Masten when he had visited Ruth, for they had gone in the buckboard to Red Rock. And Masten had departed when they reached home. Nor did they see Ruth after they arrived, for she had gone to bed. But at th... The Fight
At about the time that Chavis and Kester had discovered Ruth's pony and had clambered up the slope in search of the girl, the two figures on the timber-fringed level near the break in the canyon wall were making grotesque shadows as they danced ab... Hagar's Eyes
Randerson had been in no hurry to make an attempt to catch the rustlers whose depredations he had reported to Ruth. He had told the men to be doubly alert to their work, and he had hired two new men--from the Diamond H--to replace those who had le... One Too Many
To no man in the outfit did Randerson whisper a word concerning the result of his visit to the ranchhouse--that he would cease to be the Flying W range boss just as soon as Ruth Harkness could find a man to replace him. He went his way, thoughtful... The Rustlers
At about the time Randerson was crossing the river near the point where the path leading to Catherson's shack joined the Lazette trail, Ruth Harkness was loping her pony rapidly toward him. They passed each other within a mile, but both were uncon... The Target
Earlier in the morning, Ruth had watched Uncle Jepson and Aunt Martha ride away in the buckboard toward Lazette. She had stood on the porch, following them with her eyes until the buckboard had grown dim in her vision--a mere speck crawling over a... At The Flying W
It fell to Uncle Jepson to hitch the blacks to the buckboard--in a frigid silence Masten had found his trunk, opened it and drawn out some very necessary dry clothing; then marching behind a thick clump of alder, he proceeded to make the change. A... Love Vs Business
On Sunday afternoon Ruth, Masten, Aunt Martha, and Uncle Jepson were sitting on the front porch of the Flying W ranchhouse. Ruth was reading and thinking--thinking most of the time, the book lying open in her lap. Masten was smoking a cigar--one o... A Man And His Job
Just what Ruth's sensations were the next morning she could not have told. She could correctly analyze one emotion: it was eager anticipation. Also, she could account for it--she wanted to see Randerson. But her reason for wanting to see him was a... The Gunfighter
Red Owen, foreman of the Flying W in place of Tom Chavis, resigned, was stretched out on his blanket, his head propped up with an arm, looking at the lazy, licking flames of the campfire. He was whispering to Bud Taylor, named by Randerson to do d... A Man Is Born Again
The meeting between Catherson and Randerson had taken the edge off Catherson's frenzy, but it had not shaken his determination. He had been in the grip of an insane wrath when he had gone to see the Flying W range boss. His passions had ruled him,... Dave Porter's Past
"What do you think of that, fellows?" asked Roger, as he concluded the reading of the letter. "I am not surprised," answered Dave. "Now that Merwell finds he can't show himself where he is known, he must be very bitter in mind." "I thought he... The Bubble Dreams
Loping his pony through the golden haze of the afternoon, Randerson came over the plains toward the Flying W ranchhouse, tingling with anticipation. The still small voice to which he had listened in the days before Ruth's coming had not lied to hi... The Landslide Mine
"Roger, that sounds like a fairy tale--a real gold mine belonging to your mother lost through a landslide!" "So it does sound like a fairy tale, Dave; but it is absolutely true. The mine was owned by my uncle, Maurice Harrison, of Butte, Montana... 0n The Snow-trail
Aline had passed into the house, moved by an instinct which shrank from publicity in the inevitable personal meeting between her and her husband. Now, Harley, with the cavalier nod of dismissal, which only a multimillionaire can afford, followed her... A Band Of Guerrillas
Madeline bolted the door, and, flying into the kitchen, she told the scared servants to shut themselves in. Then she ran to her own rooms. It was only a matter of a few moments for her to close and bar the heavy shutters, yet even as she was fasteni... A Bargain
Melissy saw the two prisoners brought in, though she could not tell at that distance who they were. Her watch told her that it was four-thirty. She had slept scarcely at all during the night, but now she lay down on the bed in her clothes. The ... A Bargain With Peg-leg
"Hey, youse!" shouted the car-boy. He brought his trundling, jolting, loose-jointed car to a halt by the face of the drift. "Hey, youse!" he shouted again. Bunt shut off the Burly air-drill and nodded. "Chaw," he remarked to me. We clamber... A Bear Trap
The winding trail led up to the scrub pines and from there north into the hills. Curly had not traveled far when he heard the sound of a gun fired three times in quick succession. He stopped to listen. Presently there came a faint far call for hel... A Bit Of Paper
Good Indian came out upon the rim-rock, looked down upon the ranch beneath him, and knew, by various little movements about the place, that breakfast was not yet ready. Gene was carrying two pails of milk to the house, and Wally and Jack were wateri... A Blizzard
Moya found in Goldbanks much to interest her. Its helter-skelter streets following the line of least resistance, its slapdash buildings, the scarred hillsides dotted with red shaft-houses beneath which straggled slate-colored dumps like long beard... A Bluff Is Called
Torpid lay Aravaipa in a coma of sunheat. Its adobe-lined streets basked in the white glare of an Arizona spring at midday. One or two Papago Indians, with their pottery wares, squatted in the shade of the buildings, but otherwise the plaza was dese... A Bound Boy's Story
With the horses gone beyond recapture, Big Pete must needs depend on his own legs if he meant to escape. The constable's party could not be far behind, and with the boy, whose throat he clutched, to point the way in which he had gone, when the off... A Branch Road
I "Keep the main-travelled road till you come to a branch leading off-keep to the right." IN the windless September dawn a voice went singing, a man's voice, singing a cheap and common air. Yet something in the elan of it all told he was you... A Buckshot Greeting
"Oh, the cows stampede on the Rio Grande! The Rio! The sands do blow, and the winds do wail, But I want to be wheah the cactus stands! And the rattlah shakes his ornery tail!" Kid Wolf sang his favorite verse to his favorit... A Call For Help
That night the wire across the mountains to Prescott was long alive with news, and there was little rest for operator, adjutant, or commanding officer at Sandy. Colonel Byrne, it seems, had lost telegraphic touch with his chief, who, quitting Camp... A Capture
Flatray swung around Old Baldy through the sparse timber that edged its roots. He knew this country well; for he had run cattle here, and combed the draws and ridges on the annual spring and fall round-ups. There was no trail to follow. Often th... A Carpet Knight Indeed
The flag at Camp Sandy drooped from the peak. Except by order it never hung halfway. The flag at the agency fluttered no higher than the cross-trees, telling that Death had loved some shining mark and had not sued in vain. Under this symbol of mou... A Change Of Base
Stratton staggered back against the wall and leaned there, panting. All his strength had gone out in that last terrific blow, and for a space he seemed incapable of movement. At length, conscious of a warm, moist trickle on his chin, he raised one... A Clean Up
A slight accident occurred at the jail, one so unimportant that Scanlan the jailer did not think it worth reporting to his chief. Blackwell, while eating, knocked a glass from the table and broke it on the cement floor of his cell. There is a lege... A Clean White Man's Option
The light of a lantern coming down the steps blinded them for a moment. Behind the lantern peered the yellow face of the turnkey. "Ho, there, Americano! They want you up above," the man said. "The generals, and the colonels, and the captains want a ... A Compromise
Luck lay stretched full length on a bunk, his face, to the roof, a wreath of smoke from his cigar traveling slowly toward the ceiling into a filmy blue cloud which hung above him. He looked the personification of vigorous full-blooded manhood at e... A Concert In The Moonlight
Night fell on San Leon; and the searching party which had gone out in the morning, sure of prompt success, returned tired and dispirited. But their places were immediately taken by fresh recruits, Mr. Ford announcing that the matter would not be d...