"Was that you makin" that comical noise?" Bunch elevated his brows in astonishment. "I thought one of the horses was down, and chokin"."
Bowers slammed a pyramid of pancakes upon the table.
"Why don"t you take a shovel, Bunch?" he demanded. "You"re losin" time eatin" with your knife and fingers."
"These sweat-pads of yourn would be pretty fair if "twant fur the lumps of sody a feller"s allus bitin" into," the herder commented.
"Maybe you"d ruther do the cookin" so you kin git "em to suit you,"
Bowers retorted, nettled.
"Oh, I ain"t kickin"--I lived with Injuns a year and I kin eat anything."
"You got manners like a pet "c.o.o.n," Bowers eyed the herder with disfavor as that person shoved a cake into his mouth with one hand and reached for the mola.s.ses jug with the other.
Kate paid no attention to this amiable exchange of personalities, for while she ate with the men she seldom took part in the conversation. Now she said, rising:
"Stack the dishes, Bowers, and come over and help us."
"Yes, Bowers," Bunch mocked when Kate was well out of hearing, "come over and run down fifty or sixty sheep and wrastle a few three-hundred poun" bucks and drag around several wool sacks and halter-break that two-year-ol" colt while you"re restin"."
Bowers resented instantly any criticism of Kate by her herders. But he himself saw and regretted the change in her. Occasionally he wished that he dared remind her of the old adage that "Mola.s.ses catches more flies than vinegar," for there were times when she made difficulties for herself by her brusqueness, antagonizing where it would have been as easy to engender a feeling of friendliness. She was more interesting, perhaps, but less lovable, and this Bowers felt vaguely.
The work that morning went slowly. Bunch and Oleson moved with exasperating deliberation and made stupid blunders. The brunt of the labor fell upon Bowers and Kate, who soon were grimy with dust and perspiration. As the sun rose higher, so did Kate"s temper, and her voice grew sharper and more imperious each time she spoke to the shirkers. The fact that the present task was necessary, because of carelessness on their part, did not tend to increase her tolerance.
Bunch, herding a band of yearlings, had allowed them to get back to their mothers. To allow a "mix" was one of the supreme offenses and the herders knew that only necessity ever made Kate overlook it. If new men had been available, both Bunch and Oleson would have received their time checks quickly.
Kate had been at the "dodge gate" until she was dizzy. Her eyes ached with the strain of watching the chute and her arm ached with the strain of slamming the gate to-and-fro, which cut them into their proper divisions. The last sheep was through finally, but not until the sun was high and the heat made exertion an effort.
"There are some yearlings in there that belong in the "b.u.m bunch," and six or eight with wrong earmarks. We"ll have to catch them." Kate set the example by walking in among them, and immediately a cloud of dust arose as the frightened sheep ran bleating in a circle. Above the din Kate"s voice rose sharp and imperative as her trained eye singled out the sheep she wanted.
"There, Oleson, that one! Bowers, catch that lame one! Hold that sheep with the sore mouth, Bunch, till I look at it."
The sheep dodged and piled up in one end of the corral to the point of suffocation, then around and around in a dizzy circle, with Kate and the herders each intent on the particular sheep he was bent on catching.
In the midst of it a laugh, feminine, musical, amused, rang out above the turmoil. Kate looked up quickly. Her swift glance showed her the figure of a man and a girl leaning over the gate at the far end of that division.
She frowned slightly.
"Bunch," curtly, "tell those people to stand back."
Bunch waved his hand and yelled bluntly:
"Git back furderer!"
Again the light feminine laugh reached Kate and her lips tightened as she thought cynically:
"Dudes from the Scissor Ranch over to look at the freak woman sheepherder."
Disston winced a little. Kate might misunderstand and take offense at Beth Rathburn"s laughter.
But Kate ignored, then forgot them, until Bowers, working at that end of the corral, came back and jerked his thumb over his shoulder:
"That feller wants to speak to you."
Kate looked up impatiently, hesitated, wiped her face on the sleeve of her forearm and walked over without great alacrity.
As she went forward Kate looked only at the girl, who, cool and dainty in her sheer white muslin, her fair face reflecting the glow from the pink silk lining of her parasol, small of stature and as exquisitely feminine as a Dresden china shepherdess, was her direct ant.i.thesis.
Kate"s divided skirt was bedraggled, a rent showed in the sleeve of her blouse, her riding boots were shabby, and the fingers were out of her worn gauntlets. Her hat was white with the dust of the corral, her hair dishevelled and her face, still damp with perspiration, was grimy. But somehow she managed to be picturesque and striking. Her clothes could not hide the long beautiful curves of her tall figure and she carried herself very erect, with something dignified and authoritative in her manner, while her wide free gestures were the movements of independence and self-reliance.
Disston looking at her eagerly and intently as she came closer noted that the changes the years had made were chiefly in her expression. The friendly candor of her eyes was replaced by a look that was coldly speculative, and her lips that had smiled so readily now expressed determination. Her whole bearing was indicative of concentration, singleness of purpose and patience or, more strictly, a dogged endurance. These things Disston saw in his swift scrutiny before she recognized him.
She stopped abruptly, her eyes widened and her lips parted in astonishment.
"Hughie!" She went forward swiftly, her eyes shining with the glad welcome he remembered and all her old-time impetuosity of manner. Then she checked herself as suddenly. She did not withdraw the hand she had extended, but the smile froze on her lips and all the warmth went out of her greeting. She added formally, "I wasn"t expecting to see any one I knew--you surprised me."
Wondering at her change of manner, he laughed as he shook hands with her.
"I hoped to--it"s one of the things I"ve been looking forward to."
Beth Rathburn was looking, not at Kate, but at Disston, when he introduced them; she could not remember when she had seen him so animated, so genuinely glad.
"I"ve been enormously interested--however do you do it?" Miss Rathburn said in her cool drawl, while she studied Kate"s face curiously.
"It"s my business," Kate replied simply, regarding her with equal interest.
"And you live out here by yourself, without any other woman? Aren"t you lonely?"
"I"m too busy."
"You work with the men--just like one of them?"
"Just like a man," Kate repeated evenly.
"It is quite--quite wonderful!" Beth subtly conveyed the impression that on the contrary she thought it was dreadful.
Kate drew back her head a little and looked at her visitor.
"Is it?" coolly.
"And Hugh never has told me a word about you--he"s been so reticent."
She laid her finger tips upon his arm in proprietory fashion while a sly malice shone through the mischievousness of her smile.
Disston colored.
Kate replied ironically:
"Perhaps he is one of those who do not boast of their acquaintance with sheepherders."
"Kate!" he protested vigorously.