Mason looked at him doubtfully, saw that Ford was, for the time being, absolutely devoid of anything remotely approaching penitence for his sins, or compunction over his appearance, or uneasiness over "Kate"s"
opinion of him. He was hungry. And since it is next to impossible to whip up the conscience of a man whose thoughts are concentrated upon his physical needs, Mason was wise enough to wait, though the one point which he considered of vital importance to them both--the question of Ford"s acceptance or refusal of the foremanship of the Double Cross--had not yet been touched upon.
While Ford ate with a controlled voraciousness which spoke eloquently of his twenty-four hours of fasting and exposure, Mason gossiped inattentively and studied the man.
Eight years leave their impress of mental growth or deterioration upon a man. Outwardly Ford was not much changed since Mason had come with him out of Alaska and lost sight of him afterwards. There was the maturity which the man of thirty possessed and which the virile young fellow of twenty-one had lacked. There was the same straight glance, the same atmosphere of squareness and mental poise. Those were qualities which Mason set down as valuable factors in his estimate of the man. Besides, there were other signs which did not make so pleasant a reading.
Eight years--and a few of them, at least, had been spent wastefully in tearing down what the other years had built; Mason had heard that Ford was "going to the dogs," and that by the short trail men blazed for themselves centuries ago and which those who came after have made a highway--the whisky trail. Mason had heard, now and then, of ten thousand dollars coming to Ford upon the death of his father and going almost as suddenly as it had come. That, at least, had been the rumor.
Also he had heard, just lately, that Ford had taken to gambling as a profession and to terrorizing Sunset periodically as a pastime. And Mason remembered the Ford Campbell who had carried him on his back out of a wild place in Alaska, and had nearly starved himself that the sick man"s strength might not fail him utterly. He had remembered--had Ches Mason; and, being one of those tenacious souls who cling to friendship and to a resilient faith in the good that is in the worst of us, he had thrown out a tentative life-line, as it were, and hoped that Ford might clutch it before he became quite submerged in the sodden mora.s.s of inebriety.
Ford may or may not have grasped eagerly at the line. At any rate he was there in the mess-house of the Double Cross, and he was not quite so sodden as Mason had feared to find him--provided he found him at all. So much, at least, was encouraging, and for the rest, Mason was content to wait.
Mose, recognizing Ford at once, had asked him, with a comical attempt at secrecy, if he had anything to drink. When Ford shook his head, Mose stifled a sigh and went back to his dishwashing, not more than half convinced and inclined toward resentfulness. That a "booze-fighter" like Ford Campbell should come only a day"s ride from town and not be fairly well supplied with whisky was too remarkable to be altogether plausible.
He eyed the two sourly while they talked, and he did not bring forth one of the fresh pies he had baked, as he had meant to do.
It was not until Ford was ready to light his after-dinner cigarette that Mason led the way into the next room, which held the bunks and general belongings of the men, and closed the door so that they might talk in confidence without fear of Mose"s loose tongue. Ford immediately pulled off his boots, laid himself down upon one of the bunks, doubled a pillow under his head, and began to eye Mason quizzically. Then he said:
"Say, you kinda played your hand face down, didn"t you, Ches, when you wrote and asked me to come out here and take charge? Eight years is a long time to expect a man to stay right where he was when you saw him last. You"ve lost a whole lot of horse sense since I knew you."
"Well, what about it? You came, I notice." Mason grinned and would not help Ford otherwise to an understanding.
"I didn"t come to hog-tie that foreman job, you chump. I just merely want to tell you that you"ll get into all kinds of trouble, some day, if you go laying yourself wide open like that. Why, it"s plumb crazy to offer a job like that to a fellow you haven"t seen for as long as you have me. And if you heard anything about me, it"s a cinch it wasn"t what would recommend me to any Sunday-school as a teacher of their Bible cla.s.s! How did you know I wouldn"t take it? And let you in for--"
"Well, you"re here, and I"ve seen you. The job"s still waiting for you.
You can start right in, to-morrow morning." Ches got out his pipe and began to fill it as calmly and with as much attention to the small details as if he were not mentally tensed for the struggle he knew was coming; a struggle which struck much deeper than the position he was offering Ford.
Ford almost dropped his cigarette in his astonishment. "Well, you d.a.m.n"
fool!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed pityingly.
"Why? I thought you knew enough--you punched cows for the Circle for four or five years, didn"t you? Nelson told me you were his top hand while you stayed with him, and that you ran the outfit one whole summer, when--"
"That ain"t the point." A hot look had crept into Ford"s face--a tinge which was not a flush--and a glow into his eyes. "I know the cow-business, far as that goes. It"s me; you can"t--why, Lordy me! You ought to be sent to Sulphur Springs and get your think-tank hoed out.
Any man that will offer a foreman"s job to a--a--"
""A rooting, tooting, shooting, fighting son-of-a-gun, and a good one!""
a.s.sisted Mason equably. ""The only original go-getter--" Sure. That"s all right."
The flush came slowly and darkened Ford"s cheeks and brow and throat. He threw his half-smoked cigarette savagely at the hearth of the rusty box-stove, and scowled at the place where it fell. "Well, ain"t that reason enough?" he demanded harshly, after a minute.
Mason had been studying that flush. He nodded a.s.sent to some question he had put to himself, and crowded tobacco into his pipe. "No reason at all, one way or the other. I need a foreman--one I can depend on. I"ve got to make a trip out to the Coast, this fall, and I"ve got to leave somebody here I can trust."
Ford shot him a quick, questioning glance, and bit his lip. "That," he said more calmly, "is just what I"m driving at. You can"t trust me. You can"t depend on me, Ches."
"Oh, yes I can," Mason contradicted blandly. "It"s just because I can that I want you."
"You can"t. You know d.a.m.n" well you can"t! Why, you--don"t you know I"ve got the name of being a drunkard, and a--a bad actor all around? I"m not like I was eight years ago, remember. I"ve traveled a hard old trail since we bucked the snow together, Ches--and it"s been mostly down grade. I was all right for awhile, and then I got ten thousand dollars, and it seemed a lot of money. I bought a fellow out--he had a ranch and a few head of horses--so he could take his wife back East to her mother.
She was sick. I didn"t want the darned ranch. And so help me, Ches, that"s the only thing I"ve done in the last four years that I hadn"t ought to be ashamed of. The rest of the money I just simply blew.
I--well, you see me; you didn"t want to take me up to the house to meet your wife, and I don"t blame you. You"d be a chump if you did. And this is nothing out of the ordinary. I"ve got my face bunged up half the time, seems like." He thumped the pillow into a different position, settled his head against it, and looked at Mason with his old, whimsical smile. "So when you talk about that foreman job, and depending on me, you"re--plumb delirious. I was going to write and tell you so, but I kept putting it off. And then I took a notion I"d hunt you up and give you some good advice. You"re a good fellow, Ches, but the court ought to appoint a guardian for you."
"I"ll stick around for three or four weeks," Mason observed, in the casual tone of one who is merely discussing the details of an everyday affair, "till the calves are all gathered. We"re a little late this year, on account of old Slow dying right in round-up time. We got most of the beef shipped--all I care about gathering, this fall. I"ve got most all young stock, and it won"t hurt to let "em run another season; there ain"t many. I"ll let you take the wagons out, and I"ll go with you till you get kinda harness-broke. And--"
"I told you I don"t want the job." Ford"s mouth was set grimly.
"You tried to tell me what I want and what I don"t want," Mason corrected amiably. "Now I"ve got my own ideas on that subject. This here outfit belongs to me. I like to pick my men to suit myself; and if I want a certain man for foreman, I guess I"ve got a right to hire him--if he"ll let himself be hired. I"ve picked my man. It don"t make any difference to me how many times he played hookey when he was a kid, or how many men he"s licked since he growed up. I"ve hired him to help run the Double Cross, and run it right; and I ain"t a bit afraid but what he"ll make good." He smiled and knocked the ashes gently from his pipe into the palm of his hand, because the pipe was a meerschaum just getting a fine, fawn coloring around the base of the bowl, and was dear to the heart of him. "Down to the last, white chip," he added slowly, "he"ll make good. He ain"t the kind of a man that will lay down on his job." He got up and yawned, elaborately casual in his manner.
"You lay around and take it easy this afternoon," he said. "I"ve got to jog over to the river field; the boys are over there, working a little bunch we threw in yesterday. To-morrow we can ride around a little, and kinda get the lay of the land. You better go by-low, right now--you look as if it wouldn"t do you any harm!" Whereupon he wisely took himself off and left Ford alone.
The door he pulled shut after him closed upon a mental battle-ground.
Ford did not go "by-low." Instead, he rolled over and lay with his face upon his folded arms, alive to the finger-tips; alive and fighting. For there are times when the soul of a man awakes and demands a reckoning, and reviews pitilessly the past and faces the future with the veil of illusion torn quite away--and does it whether the man will or no.
CHAPTER VIII
"I Wish You"d Quit Believing in Me!"
A distant screaming roused Ford from his bitter mood of introspection.
He raised his head and listened, his heavy-lidded eyes staring blankly at the wall opposite, before he sprang off the bunk, pulled on his boots, and rushed from the room. Outside, he hesitated long enough to discover which direction he must take to reach the woman who was screaming inarticulately, her voice vibrant with sheer terror. The sound came from the little, brown cottage that seemed trying modestly to hide behind a dispirited row of young cottonwoods across a deep, narrow gully, and he ran headlong toward it. He crossed the plank footbridge in a couple of long leaps, vaulted over the gate which barred his way, and so reached the house just as a woman whom he knew must be Mason"s "Kate," jerked open the door and screamed "Chester!" almost in his face. Behind her rolled a puff of slaty blue smoke.
Ford pushed past her in the doorway without speaking; the smoke told its own urgent tale and made words superfluous. She turned and followed him, choking over the pungent smoke.
"Oh, where"s Chester?" she wailed. "The whole garret"s on fire--and I can"t carry Phenie--and she"s asleep and can"t walk anyway!" She rushed half across the room and stopped, pointing toward a closed door, with Ford at her heels.
"She"s in there!" she cried tragically. "Save her, quick--and I"ll find Chester. You"d think, with all the men there are on this ranch, there"d be some one around--oh, and my new piano!"
She ran out of the house, scolding hysterically because the men were gone, and Ford laughed a little as he went to the door she had indicated. When his fingers touched the k.n.o.b, it turned fumblingly under another hand than his own; the door opened, and he confronted the girl whom he had tried to befriend the day before. She had evidently just gotten out of bed, and into a flimsy blue kimono, which she was holding together at the throat with one hand, while with the other she steadied herself against the wall. She stared blankly into his eyes, and her face was very white indeed, with her hair falling thickly upon either side in two braids which reached to her hips.
Ford gave her one quick, startled glance, said "Come on," quite brusquely, and gathered her into his arms with as little sentiment as he would have bestowed upon the piano. His eyes smarted with the smoke, which blinded him so that he b.u.mped into chairs on his way to the door.
Outside he stopped, and looked down at the girl, wondering what he should do with her. Since Kate had stated emphatically that she could not walk, it seemed scarcely merciful to deposit her on the ground and leave her to her own devices. She had closed her eyes, and she looked unpleasantly like a corpse; and there was an insistent crackling up in the roof, which warned Ford that there was little time for the weighing of fine points. He was about to lay her on the bare ground, for want of a better place, when he glimpsed Mose running heavily across the bridge, and went hurriedly to meet him.
"Here! You take her down and put her in one of the bunks, Mose," he commanded, when Mose confronted him, panting a good deal because of his two hundred and fifty pounds of excess fat and a pair of down-at-the-heel slippers which hampered his movements appreciably. Mose looked at the girl and then at his two hands.
"I can"t take her," he lamented. "I got m"hands full of aigs!"
Ford"s reply was a sweep of the girl"s inert figure against Mose"s outstretched hands, which freed them effectually of their burden of eggs. "You darned chump, what"s eggs in a case like this?" he cried sharply, and forced the girl into his arms. "You take her and put her on a bunk. I"ve got to put out that fire!"
So Mose, a reluctant knight and an awkward one, carried the girl to the bunk-house, and left Ford free to save the house if he could.
Fortunately the fire had started in a barrel of old clothing which had stood too close to the stovepipe, and while the smoke was stifling, the flames were as yet purely local. And, more fortunately still, that day happened to be Mrs. Mason"s wash-day and two tubs of water stood in the kitchen, close to the narrow stairway which led into the loft. Three or four pails of water and some quick work in running up and down the stairs was all that was needed. Ford, standing in the low, unfinished loft, looked at the rafter which was burnt half through, and wiped his perspiring face with his coat sleeve.
"Lordy me!" he observed aloud, "I sure didn"t come any too soon!"
"Oh, it"s all out! I don"t know how I ever shall thank you in this world! With Phenie in bed with a sprained ankle so she couldn"t walk, and the men all gone, I was just wild! I--why--" Kate, standing upon the stairs so that she could look into the loft, stopped suddenly and stared at Ford with some astonishment. Plainly, she had but then discovered that he was a stranger--and it was quite as plain that she was taking stock of his blackened eyes and other bruises, and that with the sheltered woman"s usual tendency to exaggerate the disfigurements.
"That"s all right; I don"t need any thanks." Ford, seeing no other way of escape, approached her steadily, the empty bucket swinging in his hand. "The fire"s all out, so there"s nothing more I can do here, I guess."
"Oh, but you"ll have to bring Josephine back!" Kate"s eyes met his straightforward glance reluctantly, and not without reason; for Ford had dark, greenish purple areas in the region of his eyes, a skinned cheek, and a swollen lip; his chin was scratched and there was a bruise on his forehead where, on the night of his marriage, he had hit the floor violently under the impact of two or three struggling male humans.
Although they were five days old--six, some of them--these divers battle-signs were perfectly visible, not to say conspicuous; so that Kate Mason was perhaps justified in her perfectly apparent diffidence in looking at him. So do we turn our eyes self-consciously away from a cripple, lest we give offense by gazing upon his misfortune.