"There"s Red Tarken, foreman on the M Square. He"d be good to yuh, I know, and he"s a hum-dinger about cows."
"I am glad he has one qualification aside from his red hair," put in Julie seriously. "However, I am afraid that as a husband Red would be about as steady as a bronco saddled for the first time after the winter feeding.
He"d better have free range as long as he lives. Once more, father."
"Well, see here, Julie, it seems to me you could do a lot worse than take our own Mike Stelton. I"ve never thought of it much before, but to-night it sort of occurred to me an"--"
Juliet Bissell broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, at which her father fixed her with a regard as wondering as it was hurt. His cherished inspiration so tactfully approached had burst like a soap-bubble under the gale of Juliet"s merriment.
"Bud was right, after all," said the girl, after her nervous outbreak. "He told me Mike had some silly hope or other, and I believe Stelton has given you absent treatment until you have made this suggestion. Father, he"s just as preposterous as the others."
"I don"t agree with you," contended Bissell stubbornly. "Mike is faithful, and has been for years. He knows the ins and outs of the business, and is willing to take the hard knocks that I"m getting tired of. Then there"s another thing. I could be half-blind an" still see what Mike has been wanting these last five years."
Juliet suddenly rose to her feet, all the laughter gone from her eyes and her heart. With a feeling of frightened helplessness she realized that her father was serious.
"Are you taking Mike"s part against me?" she asked calmly.
"Well, I still don"t see why you couldn"t marry him."
"You"ve forgotten the mush, father, but that isn"t all. There"s something different about Mike lately, something I have never noticed before. His eye seems shifty; he avoids all the family. If I didn"t know him so well, I should think he was a criminal. Leaving out the fact that I don"t love him, and that the very thought of his ever touching me makes me shudder, this distrust of him would be enough to block any such arrangements.
Why"--and her lip curled scornfully--"I would marry Bud Larkin a hundred times rather than Mike Stelton once."
"What!"
Bissell rose to his feet with the quiet, amazed exclamation. He could hardly credit his ears.
"Marry that dirty sheepman?" he continued in a tense, even voice. "I"d like to know what put that crazy notion in yore head. Don"t tell me you are in love with that dude."
"No, I am not," answered the girl just as evenly, "but I may as well tell you frankly, that he is the only man within a radius of three hundred miles who has certain things I must have in a husband. I"m sorry if I displease you, father!" she cried, going to him affectionately, "but I could never love any one not of our cla.s.s."
That diplomatic "our" did not deceive Bissell. For the first time he saw that the greatest treasure of his whole life had grown beyond him; that there were needs and ideals in her existence of which he had but the faintest inkling, and that in her way she was as much of a "dude" as the man she had mentioned.
He was encountering the seemingly cruel fate of parents who glorify their children by their own immolation, and who watch those same children pa.s.s up and out of their humble range of vision and understanding nevermore to return. Henceforth he could never see his daughter without feeling his own lack of polish.
Such a moment of realization is bitter on both sides, but especially for the one who has given all and can receive less in return than he had before the giving. The iron of this bitterness entered into Beef Bissell"s soul as he stood there, silent, on the low, rickety veranda under the starlight of the plains.
With the queer vagary of a mind at great tension, his senses became particularly acute for a single moment. He saw the silver-pierced vault of the sky, smelled the fragrance of the plains borne on the gentle wind, and heard the rustle of the dappled cottonwoods and the howling of the distant coyotes.
Then he came back to the reality of the moment, and exhibited the simple greatness that had always been his in dealings with his daughter. He slipped his heavy arm across her shoulders and drew her to him.
"Never mind, Prairie Bell," he said gently. "You know best in everything.
Do as your heart dictates." He sighed and added: "I wish I was your mother to-night."
CHAPTER VIII
FOR REVENGE
Breakfast next morning at the Bar T ranch was disturbed by the arrival of a cowboy on a lathering, wicked-eyed pony who announced to Stelton that Bud Larkin and his sheep had crossed over into the range. What then occurred is already known, and after Bissell had returned from his final parley with Larkin, he retired sullenly into himself to rage silently.
In his perturbed state of mind, the sheepman"s double-edged remark about clearing out had had but one meaning, and he took it for granted that Larkin had been awed or frightened into the better part of valor. This was a partial relief, but he foresaw that although this danger to his cattle was averted, it was merely the first of many such struggles that he might expect.
Human desires, particularly those of great urgency, are of such domination that they take little thought for anything but themselves, except in persons of particularly adroit mind. It was Stelton"s misfortune, therefore, to embark on an ill-timed conversation with his chief.
The foreman for ten years had secretly adored Juliet Bissell with all the intensity of a soul made single of purpose by the vast, brooding immensity of his surroundings. So long as he might be near her, serving her in many little ways, he had been, in a manner, content with the situation.
But the sudden appearance of Larkin and the enthusiastic renewal of a former intimacy had spurred Stelton to seek some sort of a definite understanding. Bissell"s retirement to the veranda after the noonday meal was shortly followed by Stelton"s appearance there, timorous and abashed.
The interview had been short and not very satisfactory. The cowman, remembering with considerable pain the conversation with his daughter, told his employe frankly that he had better give up any such ideas as evidently possessed him. Stelton, who had with some right formerly felt he might count on the favorable att.i.tude of his chief, was astounded, and took the venom of the curt refusal to heart.
Retiring without betraying his emotion, he had resolved to speak to the girl herself, and that same afternoon asked permission to accompany her on her daily ride across the prairies, a thing not unusual with him.
Juliet, although she wished to be alone, consented, and at four o"clock they set out, un.o.bserved by Bissell.
It was not until they had turned their horses homeward that Stelton spoke, almost tongue-tied by the emotions that rent him, alternate waves of fear and hope.
"Miss Julie," he began, "I allow I"ve known you a long while."
"Yes, Mike, you have."
"An" I allow that I would be plumb miserable if you ever went away from here again."
"Thank you, Mike; I should miss you, too," replied the girl civilly, growing uneasy at the unusual trend of the man"s speech, halting and indefinite though it was.
"Miss Julie, I ain"t no hand at fine talk, but I want to ask yuh if you will marry me? I"ve thought about it a lot, an" though I ain"t noways good enough fer yuh, I"d try to make yuh happy."
Juliet, taken aback by the suddenness of this declaration, particularly after her talk with her father, remained silent.
"Take yore time, Miss Julie," pleaded Stelton, riding closer to her. "I ain"t in no hurry."
"I can"t tell you how much I appreciate what you"ve said, Mike," she replied slowly. "I"ve always liked you and I always will, but I don"t love you, and I would sooner tell you now than keep you in suspense. I can"t marry you."
Stelton bit his lip and his dark face grew even blacker with rage at the futility of his position. With anyone other than Juliet Bissell, perhaps, he realized that insistent pressure of his suit might have favorable results. But this cool, calm girl offered no opportunity for argument or hope.
"Mebbe if yuh waited a bit, yuh might think different about it," he ventured nevertheless. She shook her head.
"No, Mike, I wouldn"t, I am sure. If you care for me you will never mention this again. And for my part, I shall always remember what you have said to me to-day. It is a sweet thing for a girl to know that a man loves her."
Such gracious refusals are effective with most men, both because they succeed in closing a tender subject and at the same time leave an unwounded pride. But Stelton was not the ordinary type of lover.
Repressed emotions in somber minds feed and grow fat upon their own substance, and it was inconceivable that Stelton"s genuine though distorted love, an abnormal product of ten long years, should be dismissed thus with a few words.
"Why won"t you marry me?" he demanded, looking angrily into her level, brown eyes.
"I have told you I did not love you. That is the reason and the best reason in the world. Now I ask you to drop the subject."
"Love somebody else, I suppose," he sneered, baring his teeth in a fatal attempt at an ugly smile.