Produced by Andrew Sly, Al Haines and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
THE LAST STRAW
BY
HAROLD TITUS
Author of "Bruce of the Circle A," "I--Conquered," etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY
GEORGE W. GAGE
BOSTON
SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1920,
BY SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_Second Printing, June, 1920._
PRESS OF GEO. H. ELLIS CO., BOSTON, MASS.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I THE NEW BOSS II MY ADVICE, MA'AM III THE NESTER--AND ANOTHER IV THE CHAMPION V THE COURTING VI OUTCASTS VII THE CATAMOUNT VIII AND NOW, THE CLERGY IX THE DESTROYER X A MATTER OF DIRECTION XI HEPBURN'S PLAY XII A NEIGHBORLY CALL XIII THE FRAME-UP XIV THE BIG CHANCE XV WAR! XVI THE WARNING XVII HIS FAITHFUL LITTLE PONY XVIII AN INTERRUPTED PROPOSAL XIX CONCERNING SAM MCKEE XX "WORK AMONG THE HEATHEN" XXI RENUNCIATION XXII THE REVEREND'S STRATEGY XXIII BECK'S DEPARTURE XXIV IN THE SHADOW XXV A MOUNTAIN PORTIA XXVI BATTLE! XXVII THE LAST STRAW
THE LAST STRAW
CHAPTER I
THE NEW BOSS
The last patches of snow, even in the most secluded gulches, had beenlicked up by the mounting sun; the waters of Coyote Creek had returnedto the confines of the stream bed; in places a suggestion of green wasmaking its appearance about the bases of grass clumps, and cottonwoodbuds were swelling. Four men sat on the bench before the bunkhouse ofthe H.C. ranch; one was braiding a belt, another whittling and twomore, hats over their eyes to shield them from the brilliant light,joined in the desultory conversation from time to time.
In the pauses, such as the one now prevailing, was something besidesthe spirit of idling. Dad Hepburn, gray of hair, eye and mustache, butwith the body of a young man, who sat nearest the doorway, glancedfrequently towards the road as though expecting to see another comethat way to bring fresh interest; Two-Bits Beal was uneasy and did notremain long in one pose, as men do who sit in the first real warmth ofspring for its own sake; Jimmy Oliver, the whittler, stopped now andthen and held his head at an angle, as if listening; and although heworked industriously at the belt it was evident that Tom Beck hadthought for other affairs.
"So she was his nephew an' only heir," commented Two-Bits, gravely.Hepburn stirred and snorted softly. Jimmy Oliver looked at the homely,freckle-blotched face of the gaunt speaker and grinned. After a momentTom Beck said:
"Two-Bits, for a smart man you know less than anybody I everencountered! When I first set eyes on you, I said to myself, 'That manain't real. He's no work of God A'mighty. Some of these _hombres_that draw cartoons for newspapers got him up.' But I thought you musthave brains, seein' you're so powerful low on looks. You're a goodcowhand and a first rate horse handler, but won't you ever get anythingin your head but those things? Or did this cartoonist make a mistakean' put your kidneys in your skull?
"Niece; _niece!_ Not nephew!"
"Have it your way," Two-Bits said in his high voice, swallowing so hisimmense Adam's apple shot up half the extraordinary length of his leanthroat toward his pointed chin, and slipped back again with a jerk. "Iwas half right, wasn't I? She's his only heir, ain't she? You can't aska man to be more'n half right, can you?"
"If his heir'd been a nephew instead of a niece, we wouldn't all besettin' here so anxious about this arrival," opined Jimmy. "An' wewouldn't all be wonderin' if we was goin' to work for a squaw outfit.It'll be a relief when this lady lands in our midst. Mebby there'll beless speculatin' and more work done."
"You're right," assented Dad, and pulled at his mustache. "There's alot to do."
Tom Beck began to whistle softly and the older man glanced sideways athim uneasily; then fixed his eyes on the road.
"I'll bet two bit," volunteered Two-Bits, "that she's as homely as Tomclaims I am an' about as pleasant as a hod full of bumble bees."
No one demonstrated interest in his offer and, as though he had noteven heard it, Beck said:
"Seems to me there's been a lot goin' on lately, Dad. Or did you meanthere was a lot _more_ to do?"
"I don't remember such awful activity," the other replied. "'Course,there's been--"
"Nobody ever located those four mares an' their colts, did they? Andthe last we heard about that bunch of white faces they was headedtowards Utah with a shod horse trailing 'em."
Hepburn changed what started as an impatient expostulation into a sharpsigh and relieved himself by stabbing a spur into the hard ground.
"Yes, there has been stealin'," he admitted. "There's been a lot of it.But who could do anything? The old man had been slack for years and inthe last months before the end he just let go entire. He wouldn't evengive anybody else authority enough to have any say; didn't even have aforeman. That's why horses an' cattle have been stole from him.
"'Course, there's been more devil to pay since he died than went onbefore, but when a man leaves things in a lawyer's hands and the lawyerwon't even look in on the job, what you goin' to do?"
His manner was as benevolent as it was deliberate and he turned apaternal smile on Beck.
"Let the thievin' go merrily on, I expect," the other said, giving theleather strips a series of sturdy jerks to tighten the mesh.
"I expect you'd like to be foreman, wouldn't you, Dad?" Two-Bits askedinnocently, whereupon Hepburn certified the accuracy of that surmisalby moving uneasily. "You'd make a fair foreman ... _fair_. NowTommy here," he continued, oblivious of the older man's discomfitureand the delighted smiles of the others, "would make a fine foreman ifhe'd only give a damn. But he don't ... he don't. It's too bad, Tommy,you don't settle down and amount to somethin'. You're the best hand inthis country!"
Beck lifted his face and sniffed loudly.
"The smell of your bouquet is about as delicate as your diplomacy,Two-Bits!" he said.
Another pause. Beck resumed his whistling and Hepburn devoted hisattention to the road. Once he looked at the other from the tail of hiseye and a flicker of ill temper showed in his broad, grizzled face.
"Her name's Jane, ain't it?" Two-Bits was an ardent conversationalist."Jane Hunter! I knowed a school marm named Hunter onct. She was worse'nthunder for sourin' milk."
"I'll bet--"
"Listen!"
Oliver held up his knife in gesture and Two-Bits stopped talking. Thesounds of an approaching wagon were clearly audible.
"I'll bet it's the mail instead of--"
"You lose," muttered Hepburn, getting to his feet as a buckboard swungaround the bend.
"An' she sure's come to stay!" from Jimmy as he closed his knife withan air of finality.
The body of the wagon was piled high with trunks and bags and besidethe driver sat a very small woman. That she was not of the west, notthe sort of woman these men had been accustomed to deal with, wasevident from the clothes she wore, but at least one of them remarkedthat she was not wholly without the qualities essential to the frontierfor, when the driver dropped down to open the gate, he gave her thereins to the lathered, excited horses which had brought her from therailroad. As soon as the gate swung open they sprang forward, but sheput her weight on the reins and spoke with confident authority andwrenched them back.
"Not exactly helpless, anyhow," Tom Beck said to himself.
He was the only one of the group who did not walk across toward thecottonwoods which sheltered the long, red ranch house beside the creek.He sat there, braiding his belt, an indefinable half smile on his face.
The girl--for girlishness was her outstanding quality--jumped outunassisted. She looked about slowly, at the house first of
all, then atthe low stable and the corrals and, lastly, down the creek, on eitherside of which the hills rose sharply, giving a false appearance ofnarrowness to the bottoms, and her eyes rested for a long moment on theridges far below, blue and sharp in the crystal distance.
She was unaware that the driver was waiting for her to give furtherdirections and that the three others had come close and stopped,waiting for her to notice them, for she said aloud, as though toherself:
"For a beginning, this is quite remarkable!" Then she laughed sharply,with a hard mirthless quality, and turned about. She was genuinelysurprised to confront the men; evidence of this was in her eyes, whichwere large and remarkably blue. She smiled brightly and said:
"Oh, I didn't know I was overlooking any one! I suppose you men belonghere, on the ranch, and it's likely you've been waiting for the newowner to come. Well, here I am! I'm Jane Hunter and I want to know whoyou are. Now what is your name?"
Her frankness, that unhesitating, assured manner of a distinct type ofcity-bred woman, was new but it over-rode somewhat the embarrassmentthey all felt.
"My name is Hepburn, ma'am," Dad said and shook hands heavily. "I hopeyou like this place."
"I know I shall, Mr. Hepburn. And your name?"
"That's Jimmy Oliver, Miss Hunter," Hepburn said.
Two-Bits had watched this with growing confusion and when she turned onhim her searching, straightforward glance his freckles became lost in apink suffusion. He swayed his body from the hips and looked high overher head as he offered a limp hand.
"I'm Mister Beal," he said weakly.
"Don't you believe that!" laughed Hepburn. "That's Two-Bits. He ain'tentitled to any frills."
"Two-Bits it is!" the girl cried, scanning his face in amazement at itscolor and contour. "I couldn't call you mister, Two-Bits. We're goingto be too good friends for that!"
"Oh my gosh!" giggled the flustered cowboy and turned away, seekingrefuge in the bunkhouse.
"You talk about me bein' got up by a feller that draws pictures, Tom,"he said to Beck. "Holy Tin Can, you ought to see her! Why, this fellerthat paints them girls for these here, now, magazines painted her! Shelooks like she walked right out of a picture, with blue eyes an' yellerhair an' all pink an' white. An' friendly.... Oh my, I'll bet she makesthis outfit take notice!"
Old Carlotta, the half-breed Mexican woman who had been housekeeper atthe HC for years had come from the house to greet her new mistress.The trunks were carried in, the buckboard departed for its twenty-fivemile trip back to town and the riders who had been at work further downthe creek straggled in to hear the first tales of their new boss.
Conjecture was high as to her plan of procedure.
"It won't take long for things to happen. You can bank on that," JimmyOliver declared. "She ain't our kind of a woman an' the good Lord aloneknows what notions she'll have, but she'll get busy! She's that kind."
He was not wrong for just as the sun was drawing down into the hillsCarlotta appeared at the bunkhouse.
"Miss Hunter, she want to spik to Senor Dad an' Beck an' Jimmy an'Curtis," she said. "Right away, quick-_pronto_."
"This must be a mass meetin' with th' rest of us left out," Two-Bitssaid. "I'd give a dollar to look at her again ... clost up. I'll bet Iwouldn't be _afraid_ to look next time."
The four men summoned went immediately to the big house. Beck lagged atrifle and it was certain from his manner that his curiosity was notgreatly excited. He appeared to be amused, for his black eyes twinkledgaily, but as they passed through the gate they set their gaze on theback of Hepburn's broad neck and a curious speculation showed in them.
Jane Hunter was waiting on the veranda which ran the length of theranch house and without formalities began her explanation.
"You all know the situation, I believe. My uncle left me this ranch andI have come from New York to take possession. How long I remain dependson a number of things, but I find that for the present at least, I mustconduct my own business. For the last four weeks, since the propertycame to me, it has been in the hands of Mr. Alward, the attorney intown. I arrived yesterday expecting to have his help, but his doctorhas sent him into a lower altitude because of some heart difficulty andI'm alone on the job with nothing to guide me but a lengthy letter hewrote.
"I know little about business of any sort, I know nothing at all aboutranching, so I have a great deal to learn. I do know that the firstthing I need is an actual head for this place and that is why I calledyou here: to select a ... a foreman, you call him?
"Mr. Alward left word that any one of you four men would be competentand I'm going to choose one of you by chance: Understand, this is noguarantee to keep whoever is chosen on the job for any length of time,but I don't care to take the responsibility of handling the men myself,as my uncle and as Mr. Alward have done. Some one must do this anduntil I learn enough to know what I want I will be dependent uponwhomever is selected."
She had spoken rapidly, at no loss for words, without a trace ofhesitation or embarrassment, looking intently from face to face,studying the men as she explained her plan, but as she paused her eyeswere on Beck's eyes and their gaze was arrested there a moment asthough it had encountered something not usual.
"I am going to need all your help and all the suggestions that you cangive me,"--with a slight gesture to include the four, though she stilllooked straight at the tall Westerner,--"but I feel that at first theremust be system of some sort, a man at the head of the organization. I'mgoing to let you draw straws for the place."
The men stirred and looked at one another.
"That's fair enough," said Dad, with just a trace of indecision in hisvoice.
"For us," commented Curtis, a lean, leathery man.
Jane stooped and picked up an oat straw. She broke off four pieces andplaced them tightly between her thumb and palm.
"Now, draw!" she directed, with a smile, holding them toward Curtis."The lucky straw will be the shortest."
Curtis silently selected one of the bits. Then Jimmy Oliver drew andthe two stood eyeing the lots they had picked. Hepburn had cleared histhroat twice rather sharply when the drawing commenced and as hestepped forward at her gesture he manifested an eagerness which did notquite harmonize with his usual deliberation. He drew, eyed his strawand glanced sharply at those held by the other two.
Beck had not moved forward with the others, but stood back, thumbshooked in his belt, his eyes, which were mildly smiling, still on thegirl's face. She looked at him again and saw there something other thanthe interest that approached eagerness which had been evident in theothers; she read another thing which caught her attention; the man waslaughing at her, she felt, laughing at her and at the entireperformance. It seemed to him to be an absurdity and as she searchedhis expression again and perceived that this was no bucolic whim butthe attitude of a man whose assurance was as stable as her own thesmile which had been on her face faded a degree.
"Now it is your turn ... the last straw," she said to him.
"Thank you, ma'am," he replied in an even, matter-of-fact voice, thoughthat annoying smile was still in his eyes, "but I guess you can countme out."
She lowered the hand which held the straw.
"You don't care to draw?"
"That's what I meant, ma'am."
"And why not?"
She was piqued, without good reason, at this refusal.
"In the first place, ma'am, I've never taken a chance in my life, if Iknew it. I've tried to arrange so I wouldn't have to. I'm a poorgambler."
A suggestion of a flush crept into the girl's cheeks, for, though hismanner was all frankness, he gave the impression that this was not hisreason, or, at least, not his best reason; he seemed, in a subtlemanner, to be poking fun at her. "Besides," he went on, "pickin' atpieces of straw don't seem like a good way to pick men."
"You understand why it is being done that way?" Though her manner didnot betray it, she felt as though she were on the defensive.
"Yes, ma'am. I wasn't refl
ecting on you especially. I was thinkin'about your lawyer. But you won't be so very mad, if I ain't crazy totake a chance, will you? If anybody wants to know whether I can hold ajob or not, I'd sooner have 'em ask about me or try me; when it comesto drawing lots I'll have to be counted out."
His eyes had been squarely on hers throughout and when he ceasedspeaking they still clung. Beyond a doubt, she reasoned, that flickerin them was amusement and yet she felt no resentment towards him; wasnot even annoyed as she had been at his first refusal. It wasinteresting; it impressed her with a difference between him and thethree who had drawn. For a moment she was impelled to argue; she wantedthat man to help her more than she wanted to retain her poise ... justan instant.
Abruptly she turned to the others.
"Very well, we will see who did win."
The four drew close together and measured.
"Mr. Hepburn's is the shortest!" she cried; then looked at the fourthstraw she still held. It was shorter by half an inch.
"You would have drawn well," she said to Beck, holding it up.
"So it seems, ma'am," he answered, but she noticed that he did not lookat her. His eyes were on the new foreman's face, which was flushed withthe depressions beneath the eyes puffed a bit. He was nervouslybreaking to shreds the straw which had won the place but about him wasa bearing of unmistakable elation and something in his eyes, which weresmall, and about his chin suggested greed....
The four started away and Jane stood watching them. Four! And one ofthem was to be her deputy in life's first--and perhaps life'ssaving--adventure. But she did not watch him, in fact, had no thoughtfor him. Her eyes followed Tom Beck until he was out of sight and asshe turned to enter the house she said:
"But he looks as though he might take a ... long chance...."