DESERT VALLEY

BY

JACKSON GREGORYAUTHOR OF

"

if AN TO If AN.""

JUDITH OF BLUB LAK8 RANCH.""

TH" 8RLJ.9 OF SAN IUAN"

WITH FRONTISPIECE BY

FRANK TENNEY JOHNSON

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

NEW YORK:::::::::::::::::::i92i

r"

COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

Published April, 1921

Reprinted May, 1921

Copyright, 1920, by STREET AND SMITH

r

THE 8CRIBNER PRESS

Co

LOTUS

442763

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

THE DESERT

I. A BLUE BIRD'S FEATHER.

II. SUPERSTITION POOL

III. PAYMENT IN RAW GOLD.

IV. IN DESERT VALLEY

V. THE GOOD OLD SPORT

VI. THE YOUTHFUL HEART.

VII. WAITING FOR MOONRBSE.

VIII. POKER AND THE SCIENTIFIC MIND

IX. HELEN KNEW....

X. A WARNING AND A SIGN.

XI. SEEKING

XII. THE DESERT SUPREME

XIII. A SON OF THE SOLITUDES.

XIV. THE HATE OF THE HIDDEN PEOPLE

XV. THE GOLDEN SECRET.

XVI. SANCHIA SCHEMES

XVII. HOWARD HOLDS THE GULCH.

XVIII. A TOWN Is BORN

XIX. SANCHIA PERSISTENT.

XX. Two FRIENDS AND A GIRL.

XXI. ALMOST......

XXII. THE PROFESSOR DICTATES.

XXIII. THE WILL o' THE WISP.

.

XXIV. THE SHADOW....

XXV. IN THE OPEN

XXVI. WHEN DAY DAWNED

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DESERT VALLEY

THE DESERT

OVERmany wide regions of the southwestern desert

country of Arizona and New Mexico lies an eternal

spellof silence and mystery. Across the sand ridgescome many foreign things,both animate and inani

mate, which are engulfed in its immensity; which fre

quently disappear for all time from the sight of

men, blotted out like a bird which flies free from

a lighted room into the outside darkness. As

though in compensation for that which it has taken,the desert from time to time allows new marvels,riven from its vitals,to emerge.

Though death-still, it has a voice which calls

ceaselesslyto those human hearts tuned to its mes

sages; hostile and harsh, it draws and urges; re

pellent, it profligatelyawards health and wealth;inviting,it kills. And always it keeps its owncounsel; it is without peer in its lonesomeness, and

without confidants; it heaps its sand over its secrets

to hide them from its flashing stars.You see the bobbing ears of a pack animal and

the dusty hat and stoop shoulders of a man. They

are symbols of mystery. They rise brieflyagainstthe sky line, they are gone into the grey distance.

Something beckons or something drives. They are

I

Desert Valley

st:t6; human s'iglit,perhaps to human memory, likea couple of chips driftingout into the ocean. Patienttime

may witness their return; it is still likelythatsoon another incarnation will have closed for manand beast; that they will have left to mark their

passing a few glisteninglywhite bones, p'"lishduntiringlyby tiny sand chisels in the grip of *bt desertwinds. They may find gold, but they may not comein time to water. The desert is equally conversantwith the actions of men mad with gold and madwith thirst.

To push out alone into this vastitude is to evince

the heart of a brave man or the brain of a fool.

The endeavor to traverse the forbidden garden ofsilence implies on the part of the agent an adventurous nature. Hence it would seem no great task

to catalogue those human beings who set their backsto the gentler world and press forward into thenaked embrace of this merciless land. Yet as manysorts and conditions come here each year as are to

be found outside.

Silence, ruthlessness, mystery, " these are the attributes of the desert. True, it has its softer phases,veiled dawns and dusks, rainbow hues, moon and

stars. But these are but tender blossoms from a

spiked, poisonous stalk, like the flowers of the

cactus. They are brief and evanescent; the iron

parent is everlasting.

CHAPTER I

I* A BLUE BIRD'S FEATHER

IN the dusk a pack horse crested a low-lying sandridge, put up its head and sniffed, pushed for

ward eagerly, its nostrils twitching as it turned alittle more toward the north, going straighttowardthe water-hole. The pack was slipping as far toone side as it had listed to the other half an hour

ago; in the restraining rope there were a dozenintricate knots where one would have amply sufficed. The horse broke into a trot, blazing its owntrail through the mesquite; a parcel slipped; theslack

rope grew slacker because of the subsequentreadjustment; half a dozen bundles dropped afterthe first. A voice, thin and irritable, shoutedu Whoa ! " and the man in turn was briefly outlined against the pale sky as he scrambled up theridge. He was a little man and plainly weary; hewalked as though his boots hurt him; he carried awide, new hat in one hand; the skin was peelingfrom his blistered face. From his other hand trailed

a big handkerchief. He was perhaps fiftyor sixty.He called " Whoa ! " again and made what haste hecould after his horse.

A moment later a second horse appeared againstthe sky, following the man, topping the ridge, passing on. In silhouette it appeared no normal animalbut some weird monstrosity, a misshapen body cov-

3

Desert Valleyered everywherewith odd wart-like excrescences.Close by,these uniquegrowths resolved themselvesinto at least a score of canteens and water bottlesof many shapesand sizes,strung togetherwith bitsof rope. Undoubtedlythe hand which had tied theother knots had constructed these. This horse inturn sniffedand went forward with a quickenedpace.

Finallycame the fourth figureof the procession.This was a girl.Like the man she was booted; likehim she carried a broad hat in her hand. Here the

similarityended. She wore an outdoor costume, alittlethingappropriateenough for her environment.And yet it was peculiarlyappropriateto femininity.It disclosed the pleasinglines of a pretty figure.Her fatigueseemed less than the man's. Her youthwas pronounced,assertive. She alone of the fourpaused more than an instant upon the slighteminence; she put back her head and looked up atthe few stars that were shining;she listenedto thehushed voice of the desert. She drew a scarf awayfrom her neck and let the coolingair breathe uponher throat. The throat was round; no doubt itwas soft and white and, like her whole small self,seductivelyfeminine.Having communed with the night,the girlwith

drew her gaze frdm the sky and hearkened to hercompanion. His voice,now remarkablyeager andyoung for a man of his years, came to her clearlythroughthe clumpsof bushes.

" It is amazing, my dear ! Positively.Younever heard of such a thing. The horse, the tallslender one, ran away from me. I hastened in pursuitcallingto him to wait for me. It appearedthat

4

A Blue Bird's Feather

he had become suddenlyrefractory;they do thatsometimes. I was going to reprimand him; Ithoughtthat it might be necessary to chastise himas sometimes a man must do to retain the mastery.But I stayedmy hand. The animal had not runaway at all! He actuallyknew what he was doing.He came straighthere. And what do you thinkhe discovered ? What do you imaginebroughthim ?You would never guess.

"

"Water?" suggestedthe girl,comingon.Something of the man's excitement had gone

from his voice when he answered. He was like achild who has propounded a riddle that has beentoo readilyguessed.

"How did you know?"" I didn't know. But the horses must be thirsty.

Of course they would go straightto water. Animals can smell it,can't they?"

"Can they?" He looked to her inquiringlywhen she stood at his side. " It is amazing,nevertheless. Positively,my dear," he added with atouch of dignity.

The two horses, side by side, were drinkingnoisilyfrom a small depressioninto which the wateroozed slowly. The girlwatched them a momentabstractedly,sighedand sat down in the sand,herhands in her lap.

'Tired,Helen?" asked the man solicitously."Aren't you?" she returned. "It has been a

hard day,papa."" I am afraid ithas been hard on you, my dear,"

he admitted as his eyes took stock of the droopingfigure." But," he added more cheerfully," we are

5

Desert Valley

gettingsomewhere, my girl;we are gettingsomewhere/'

" Are we? " she murmured to herself rather thanfor his ears. And when he demanded " Eh? " shesaid hastily:"Anyway, we are doing something.That is more fun than growing moss, even if wenever succeed."

" I tellyou," he declared forensically,liftinghishand for a gesture,

u I know ! Haven't I demonstrated the infallibilityof my line of action? If aman wants to " to gather cherries,let him go to acherrytree; if he seeks pearls,let him find out thefavorite habitat of the pearl oyster; if he desiresa " a hat, let him go to the hatter's. It is thesimplestthing in the world, though fools havewoven mystery and difficultyabout it. Now " "

" Yes, pops." Helen sighedagain and saw wisdom in risingto her feet. " If you will beginunpackingI'llmake our beds. And I'llget the firestarted."

" We can dispensewith the fire,"he told her,settingto work with the firstknot to come under hisfingers." There is coffee in the thermos bottleand we can open a tin of pottedchicken."

" The firemakes itcozier,"Helen said,beginningto gather twigs. Last nightcoyotes had howledfearsomelyand even dwellers of the citiesknow thatthe surest safeguardagainsta raveningbeast is acamp fire. For a little,while the man strove withhis tangledrope, she was lost to him throughthemesquite.Suddenlyshe came runningback.

" Papa," she whispered excitedly." There'ssomeone alreadyhere."

6

A Blue Bird's Feather

She led him a few paces and pointed,makinghimstoop to see. Under the tangleof a thin brush patchhe made out what she had seen. But a short dis

tance from the spot theyhad elected for their campsite was a tinyfireblazingmerrily.

" Ahem," said Helen's father,shiftingnervouslyand lookingat his daughter as though for an explanationof thisoddity. " This is peculiar.It hasan air of " of " "

" Why, itisthe most natural thingin the world,"she said swiftly." Where would you expect to finda camp fireif not near a spring?"

" Yes, yes, that part of it is all right,"he admitted grudgingly." But why does he hold backand therebygiveone an impressionof a desire onhis part for secrecy? Why does he not come forward and make himself known? I do not mean toalarm you, my dear, but this is not the way anhonest fellow wayfarershould behave. Wait herefor me; I shall investigate."Intrepidlyhe walkedtoward the fire. Helen kept close to his side.

" Hullo ! " he called when theyhad taken a dozensteps. They paused and listened. There was noreplyand Helen's fingerstightenedon his arm.Again he looked to her as though once more heasked the explanationof her; the look hinted thatupon occasion the father leaned on the daughtermore than she on him. He called again. His voicedied away echoless,the silence seeming heavierthan before. When one of the horses behind them,turningfrom the water, trod upon a dry twig,bothman and girlstarted. Then Helen laughed andwent forward again. Since the firehad not lighted

7

Desert Valley

itself,it merelybespoke the presence of a man.Men had no terror to her. In the ripefulness ofher somethingless than twenty years she had encountered many of them. While with due modestyshe admitted that there was much in the world thatshe did not know, she considered that she " knew "

men.

The two pressedon together. Before they hadgone far they were greeted by the familiar andvaguely comfortingodors of boilingcoffee andfryingbacon. Stilltheysaw no one. They pushedthrough the last clump of bushes and stood by thefire. On the coals was the black coffee pot. Cun

ninglyplacedupon two stones over a bed of coalswas the frying-pan.Helen stoopedinstinctivelyandlifted it aside;the half dozen slicesof bacon wereburned black.

" Hullo ! " shouted the man a third time. For

nothingin the world was more clear than that whoever had made the fireand begun his supper preparations must be within call. But no answer came.Meantime the nighthad deepened; there was nomoon; the taller shrubs,aspiringto tree proportions,made a tangleof shadow.

" He had probablygone off to pickethis horse,"said Helen's father. " Nothing could be morenatural."

Helen, more matter-of-fact and less given totheorizing,looked about her curiously.She founda tin cup ; there was no bed, no pack,no other signto tell who their neighbormight be. Close by thespot where she had set down the frying-panshenoted a second spring.Through an open space in

8

A Blue Bird's Feather

the stunted desert growth the trail came in fromthe north. Glancing northward she saw for thefirst time the outline of a low hill. She steppedquicklyto her father's side and once more laid herhand on his arm.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice sharpeningat her sudden grip.

" It's" it'sspooky out here," she said.He scoffed. " That's a sillyword. In a natural

world there is no placefor the supernatural."Hegrew testy.

" Can I ever teach you, Helen, notto employ words utterlymeaningless?"

But Helen was not to be shaken." Justthe same it is spooky. I can feel it. Look

there." She pointed. " There is a hill. There willbe a littleringof hills. In the center of the basintheymake would be the pool. And you know whatwe heard about it before we left San Juan. Thiswhole country is strange somehow."

"Strange?" he queriedchallengingly."Whatdo you mean?

"

She had not relaxed her hand on his arm. In

stead her fingerstightenedas she suddenlyput herface forward and whispereddefiantly:

" I mean spooky! "" Helen," he expostulated," where did you get

such ideas? "' You heard the old Indian legends,"she insisted,

not more than half frightened,but conscious of aneerie influence of the stillloneliness and experiencingthe firstshiver of excitement as she stirred her ownfancy. " Who knows but there is some foundationfor them?"

Desert ValleyHe snorted his disdain and scholarlycontempt." Then," said Helen, resortingto argument,

"

where did that fire come from? Who made it?

Why has he disappearedlike this?"" Even you," said her father,quickas alwaysto

joinissue where sound argument offered itselfas aweapon,

"

will hardly suppose that a spook eatsbacon and drinks coffee."

" The " the ghost,"said Helen, with a humorousglancein her eyes, " might have whisked him awayby the hair of the head! "

He shook her hand off and strode forward im

patiently.Again and againhe shouted u Hullo!"and "Ho, there! Ho, I say!" There came noanswer. The bacon was growingcold;the fireburning down. He turned a perplexedface towardsHelen's eager one.

" It is odd," he said irritably.He was not a manto relish beingbaffled.

Helen had picked up somethingwhich she hadfound near the spring,and was studyingit intently.He came to her side to see what it was. The thingwas a freshlypeeled willow wand, left uprightwhere one end had been thrust down into the softearth. The other end had been split;into the cleftwas thrust a singlefeather from a bluebird's wing.

Helen's eyes looked unusuallylargeand bright.She turned her head, glancingover her shoulder.

" Someone was here justa minute ago,"she criedsoftly." He was camping for the night. Somethingfrightenedhim away. It mighthave been thenoise we made. Or " What do you think,papa ? "

" I never attempt to solve a problemuntil the10

CHAPTER II

SUPERSTITION POOL

PHYSICALLYtired as they were, the night wasa restless one for both Helen and her father.

They ate their meal in silence for the most part,made their beds close together, picketed their horsesnear by and said their listless " good-nights," early.Each heard the other turn and fidget many timesbefore both went to sleep. Helen saw how herfather, with a fine assumption of careless habit, laida big new revolver close to his head.

The girl dozed and woke when the pallid moonshone

upon her face. She lifted herself upon her

elbow. The moonlight touched upon the willowstick she had thrust into the sand at her bedside;the feather was upright and like a plume. She considered it gravely; it became the starting-pointof

many romantic imaginings. Somehow it was atoken; of just exactly what, to be sure, she couldnot decide. Not definitely,that is; it was alwaysindisputable that the message of the bluebird isone of good fortune.

A less vivid imagination than Helen's would havefound a tang of ghostlinessin the night. The crestof the ridge over which they had come through thedusk now showed silvery white; white also weresome dead branches of desert growth, " they lookedlike bones. Always through the intense silence

12

SuperstitionPool

stirred an indistinguishablebreath like a shiver. Individual bushes assumed grotesque shapes;when shelooked long and intentlyat one she began to fancythat itmoved. She scoffed at herself,knowing thatshe was lendingaid to trickingher own senses, yether heart beat a wee bit faster. She gave her mind

to largeconsiderations;those of infinity,as her eyeswere liftedheavenward and dwelt upon the brightest star; those of life and death, and all of the

mystery of mysteries.She went to sleepstrugglingwith the ancient problem: "Do the dead return?Are there,flowingabout us, weird supernaturalinfluences,as potent and intangibleas electric currents?" In her sleepshe continued her interestinginvestigations,but her dreamingvision explainedtheevening'sproblem by showing her the camp firemade, the bacon and coffee set thereon,by a verynice young man with splendideyes.

She stirred,smiled sleepily,and layagainwithoutmoving; after the fashion of one awakeningshe clungto the misty frontiers of a fadingdream-country.She breathed deeply,inhalingthe freshness of thenew dawn. Then suddenlyher eyes flew open, andshe sat up with a littlecry; a man who would havefitted well enough into any fancy-freemaiden'sdreams was standingclose to her side,lookingdown at her. Helen's hands flew to her hair.

Plainly" she read that in the firstflashinglook "he was no less astounded than she. At the momenthe made a pictureto fillthe eye and remain in thememory of a girlfresh from an Eastern city.Thetall,rangy form was garbed in the picturesquewayof the country; she took him in from the heels of

13

Desert Valley

the black boots with their silver spurs to the topof his head with its amazinglywide black hat. Hestood againsta sky rapidlyfillingto the warm glowof the morning. His horse,a rarelyperfectcreationeven in the eyes of one who knew littleof fine

breedingin animals,stood justat itsmaster's heels,with ears prickedforward curiously.

Helen wondered swiftlyif he intended to standthere until the sun came up, justlookingat her.Though it was scarcelymore than a moment that hestood thus, in Helen's confusion the time seemedmuch longer. She began to grow ill at ease; shefelt a quickspurt of irritation. No doubt she lookeda perfectfright,taken all unawares like this,andequallyindisputablyhe was forming an extremelyuncomplimentaryopinion of her. It requiredlessthan three seconds for Miss Helen to decide

emphaticallythat the man was a horrible creature.

But he did not look any such thing. He washealthyand brown and boyish. He had had ashave and haircut no longerago than yesterdayandlooked neat and clean. His mouth was quiteaslarge as a man's should be and now was suddenlysmiling. At the same instant his hat came off inhis big brown hand and a gleam of downrightjoy-ousness shone in his eyes."Impudent beast!" was Helen's quickthought.

She had givenher mind last night a great deal lessto matters of toilet than to mysticimaginings;itlay entirelyin the field of absurd likelihood thatthere was a smear of black across her face.

44 My mistake," grinnedthe stranger. " Guess

SuperstitionPool

I'llstep out while the stepping's good and the roadopen. If there's one sure thinga man ought to beshot for, it's stampedingin on another fellow'shoneymoon. Adios,seiiora"

" Honeymoon ! " gasped Helen. " The bigfool."

Her father wakened abruptly,sat up, graspinghis big revolver in both hands, and blinked abouthim; he, too, had had his dreams. In the nightcap which he had purchasedin San Juan,his wide,grave eyes and sun-blistered face turned up in

quiringly,he was worthy of a second glanceas hesat preparedto defend himself and his daughter.The stranger had justset the toe of his boot intothe tapaderoedstirrup;in this posture he remained,forgetfulof his intention to mount, while his marebegan to circle and he had to hop along to keeppace with her, his eyes upon the startled occupantof the bed beyond Helen's. He had had barelymore than time to note the evident discrepancyinages which naturallyshould have started his minddown a new channel for the explanationof the truerelationship,when the revolver clutched tightlyinunaccustomed fingerswent off with an unexpectedroar. Dust spoutedup a yard beyond the feet ofthe man who held it. The horse plunged,thestranger went up into the saddle like a flash,andthe man dropped his gun to his blanket and muttered in the natural bewilderment of the moment:

" It" itwent offby itself! The most amazing" "

The rider brought his prancinghorse back andfoughtwith his facial muscles for gravity;the lightin his eyes was utterlybeyond his control.

15

Desert Valley" I'd better be going off by myselfsomewhere,"

he remarked as gravelyas he could manage, " ifyou'regoingto start shootinga man up justbecausehe calls before breakfast."

With a face grown a sick white,the man in bedlooked helplesslyfrom the stranger to his daughterand then to the gun.

" I didn't do a thingto it,"he began haltingly.* You won't do a thingto yourselfone of these

fine days," remarked the horseman with evidentrelish," if you don't quitcarryingthat sort of life-saver. Come over to the ranch and I'llswap youa hand ax for it."

Helen sniffed audiblyand distastefully.Herfirstimpressionof the stranger had been more correct than are first impressionsnine times out often; he was as full of impudence as a citysparrow.She had sat up

" lookinglike a fright";her fatherhad made himself ridiculous;the stranger wasmirthfullyconcerned with the amusing possibilitiesof both of them.

Suddenly the tall man, smitten by inspiration,slappedhis thigh with one hand while with theother he curbed rebellion in his mare and offered

the explosivewager:" I'll bet a man a dollar I've got your num

ber, friends. You are Professor James EdwardLongstreetand his littledaughter Helen ! Am Iright?"

" You are correct, sir,"acknowledgedthe professor a triflestiffly.His eye did not rise but clungin a fascinated,faintlyaccusingway to the gun whichhad betrayedhim.

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SuperstitionPool

The stranger nodded and then lifted his hat forthe ceremony while he presentedhimself:

" Name of Howard,", he announced breezily." Alan Howard of the old Diaz Rancho. Glad toknow you both."

" It is a pleasure,I am sure, Mr. Howard," saidthe professor.u But, if you willpardon me, at thisparticulartime of day" "

Alan Howard laughedhis understanding." I'llchase up to the pooland giveHelen a drink

of real water," he said lightly." Funny my mare'sname should be Helen, too, isn'tit? " This directlyinto a pairof eyes which the growinglightshowedto be grey and attractive,but justnow hostile." Then, ifyou say the word, I'llromp back and takeyou up on a cup of coffee. And we'll talk thingsover."

He stooped forward in the saddle a fraction ofan inch; his mare caught the familiar signalandleaped;theywere gone, racingaway across the sandwhich was flungup after them like spray.

"Of all the fresh propositions!"gasped Helen.But she knew that he would not long delayhis

return and so slippedquicklyfrom under her blanketand hurried down to the water-hole to bathe herhands and face and set herself in order. Her flyingfingersfound her littlemirror; there wasn't anysmudge on her face,after all,and her hair wasn'tso terriblyunbecoming that way; tousled,to besure, but then, nice,curlyhair can be tousled andstillnot make one a perfecthag. It was odd abouthis mare being named Helen. He must havethoughtthe name pretty, for obviouslyhe and his

17

Desert Valley

horse were both intimate and affectionate. " AlanHoward." Here, too, was rather a nice name fora man met by chance out in the desert. She pausedin the act of brushingher hair: Was she to getan explanationof last night'spuzzle? WasMr. Howard the man who had lightedthe otherfire?

The professor'staciturnitywas of a pronouncedorder this morning. Now and then as he made hisown brief and customarilyuntidytoilet,he turneda look of accusation upon the big Colt lyingon hisbed. Before drawing on his boots he bestowedupon his toe a long glanceof affection;the bulletthat had passed within a very few inches of thisadjunctof his anatomy had emphasizeda toe's importance. He had never realized how pleasantitwasto have two big toes, all one's own and unmarred.By the time the foot had been coaxed and jammeddown into his new boot the professor'sgood humorwas on the way to being restored; a man of onethought at the time, due to his long habit of con-

,

centration,his emotion was now one of a subduedrejoicing.It needed but the morning cup of coffeeto set him beaming upon the world.

Alan Howard's sudden call: " Can I come in now,folks?" from across a brief space of sand and

brush, found Professor Longstreeton his kneesfeedingtwigs to a tinyblaze,and hastened. Helenthrough the final touches of her dressing.Helenwas humming softlyto herself,her back to him,her mind obviouslyconcentrated upon the bread shewas slicing,when the stranger swung down fromhis saddle and came forward. He stood a moment

18

Desert Valley

fessor. "In another way, no. We have givenupthe old haunts and the old way of living.We arerather inclined,my dear young sir,to look upon thisas our country, too."

" Bully for you ! " cried Howard warmly." You're sure welcome." His eyes came backfrom the father to rest upon the daughter'sbronzetresses.

" Welcome as a water-hole in a hot land,"he added emphatically.

" Speakingof water-holes,"suggestedLongstreet,sittingback upon his boot heels in a manner tosuggest the favorite squattingpositionof thecowboys of whom he and his daughterhad seenmuch during these last few weeks; " was it youwho made camp right over yonder?" Hepointed.

Helen looked up curiouslyfor Howard's answerand thus met the eyes he had not withdrawn fromher. He smiled at her, a frank,open sort of smile,and thereafter turned to his questioner.

"When?" he asked briefly." Last night. Justbefore we came."" What makes you think someone made camp

there?"" There was a fire; bacon was frying,coffee

boiling."" And you didn't step across to take a squintat

your next-door neighbor?""We did," said the professor."But he had

gone, leavinghis fireburning,his meal cooking."Howard's eyes traveled swiftlyto Helen, then

back to her father.

"And he didn't come back?"

20

SuperstitionPool" He did not," said Longstreet. " Otherwise I

should not have asked if you were he."Even yet Howard gave no direct answer. In

stead he turned his back and strode away to thedeserted camp site. Helen watched him throughthe bushes and noted how he made a quickbut evidentlythoroughexamination of the spot. She sawhim stoop, pickup frying-panand cup, drop themand pass around the spring,his eyes on the ground.Abruptly he turned away and pushed through aclump of bushes,disappearing.In fiveminutes hereturned,his face thoughtful.

" What time did you get here?" he asked. And

when he had his answer he pondered it a momentbefore he went on: " The gent didn't leave his card.But he broke camp in a regularblue-blazes hurry;saddled his horse over yonder and struck out theshortest way toward King Canon. He went as ifthedevil himself and his one best bet in hell hounds

was runningat his stirrup."" How do you know?" queried Longstreet's

insatiable curiosity." You didn't see him? "" You saw the fireand the thingshe leftstewing,"

countered Howard. " They spelledhurry,didn'tthey? Didn't they shout into your ears that hewas on the livelyscamper for some otherwhere?'1

" Not necessarily,"maintained Longstreeteagerly." Reasoning from the scant evidence before us aman would say that while the stranger may haveleft his camp to hurryon, he may on the other handhave justdodged back when he heard us comingand hidden somewhere close by."Again Howard ponderedbriefly.

21

Desert Valley* There are other signsyou did not see,"he said

in a moment. " The soil where he had his horsestaked out shows tracks and they are the tracks ofa horse goingsome from the firstjump. Horse andman took the straightesttrail and went rippingthrougha patchof mesquitethat a man would generallygo round. Then there's somethingelse.Want to see? "

They went with him, the professorwith alacrity,Helen with a studied pretense at indifference. Bythe springwhere Helen had found the willow rodand the bluebird feather, Howard stopped andpointeddown.

" There's a set of tracks for you,"he announcedtriumphantly." Suppose you spell'em out, professor;what do you make of them?"

The professorstudied them gravely.In the endhe shook his head.

" Coyote?" he suggested.Howard shook his head." No coyote,"he said with positiveness." That

track shows a foot four times as bigas any coyote'sthat ever scratched fleas. Wolf? Maybe. Itwould be a whopper of a wolf at that. Look atthe size of it,man! Why, the ugly brute wouldbe big enough to scare my prizeShorthorn bullinto takingout life insurance. And that isn't all.That's justthe front foot. Now look at the hindfoot. Smaller,longer,and leavinga lighterimprint.All belongingto the same animal." He scratchedhis head in frank bewilderment. " It's a new oneon me," he confessed frankly.Then he chuckled." I'd bet a man that the gent who left on the hasty

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Superstition Pool

foot just got one squint at this little beastie and atthat had all sorts of good reasons for streakingout."

A big lizard went rustling through a pile of dead

leaves and all three of them started. Howard

laughed." We're right near Superstition Pool," he in

formed them with suddenly assumed gravity." Down in Poco Poco they tell some great tales

about the old Indian gods going man-hunting by

moonlight. Qmen sabe, huh?"

Professor Longstreet snorted. Helen cast a

quick, interested look at the stranger and one of

near triumph upon her father." I smell somebody's coffee boiling," said the

cattleman abruptly. " Am I invited in for a cup?

Or shall Imosey

on? Don't be bashful in sayingI'm not wanted if I'm not."

" Ofcourse you are welcome," said Longstreet

heartily. But Howard turned to Helen and waited

for her to speak." Of course," said Helen carelessly.

CHAPTER III

PAYMENT IN RAW GOLD

'"V^OU were merely speaking by way of jest,IJL take it,Mr. Howard," remarked Longstreet,

after he had interestedlywatched the rancher put athird and fourth heaping spoonful of sugar in his tin

cup of coffee." I refer, you understand, to your

hinting a moment ago at there being any truth inthe old Indian superstitions. I am not to suppose,am I, that you actually give any credence totales of supernatural influences manifested hereabouts?7'

Alan Howard stirred his coffee meditativelyandafter so leisurelya fashion that Longstreet beganto fidget. The reply,when finallyit came, was suf

ficientlynoncommittal." I said ' Quien sabe?' to the question justnow,"

he said, a twinkle in the regard bestowed upon thescientist. " They are two pretty good little oldwords and fit in first-rate lots of times."

" Spanish for 'Who knows?' aren't they?"Howard nodded. "They used to be Spanish; I

guess they're Mex by now."

Longstreet frowned and returned to the issue." If you were merely jesting,as I supposed " "" But was I ?

" demanded Howard. " What do I

know about it? I know horses and cows; that's

my business. I know a thing or two about men,24

Payment in Raw Gold

since that's my business at times,too; also somethinglike half of that about half-breeds and mules;I meet up with them sometimes in the run of the

day'swork. You know somethingof what I thinkyou call auriferous geology. But what does eitherof us know of the nightlycustom of dead Indiansand Indian gods?"

Helen wondered with her father whether there

were a vein of seriousness in the man's thought.Howard squattedon his heels from which he hadremoved his spurs; they were very high heels,butnone the lesshe seemed comfortablyat home rockingon them. Longstreet noted with his keen eyes,altered his own squattingpositiona fraction,andopened his mouth for another question.But Howard forestalled him, sayingcasually:

" I have known queer thingsto happen here,within a few hundred yardsof this place. I haven'thad time to go findingout the why of them; theydidn't come into my day'swork. I have listenedtosome interestingyarns; truth or lies it didn't matter to me. They say that ghosts haunt the pooljustyonder. I have never seen a ghost;there'snothingin raisingghosts for market, and I'm thebusiest man I know tryingto chew a chunk thatI have bitten off. They tellyou down at San Juanand in Poco Poco, and all the way up to Tecolote,that if you will come here a certain moonlightnightof the year and will watch the water of the pool,you'llsee a vision sent up by the gods of the Underworld.

.They'lleven tell you how a nice littleoldgod by the name of Pookhonghoya appears now andthen bynight,huntingsouls of enemies " and running

25

Desert Valley

by the side of the biggest,strangestwolf that humaneyes ever saw."

Helen looked at him swiftly.He had added thelast item almost as an afterthought.She imaginedthat he had embellished the old tale from his ownrecent experienceand, further,that Mr. AlanHoward was making fun of them and was no adeptin the science of fabrication.

" They go further,"Howard spun out his tale." Somewhere in the desert country to the north there

is,I believe,a tribe of Hidden People that thewhite man has never seen. The interestingthingabout them is that they are governed by a youngand altogethermaddeninglypretty goddesswho iswhite and whose name isYahoya." When theycomerightdown to the matter of givingnames," headded gravely," how is a man to go any furtherthan justsay, ' Quien sabe?'"

" That is stupid,"said Longstreetirascibly." It's a man's chief affair in life to know. Theseabsurd legends" "

" Don't you think, papa," said Helen coolly," that instead of taxingMr. Howard's memory and" and imagination,it would be better if you askedhim about our way from here on?"

Howard chuckled. Professor Longstreet setaside his cup, cleared his throat and agreed withhis daughter.

" I am prospecting,"he announced, " for gold.We are headed for what is known as the Last

Ridge country. I have a map here."He drew it from his pocket,neatlyfolded, and

spreadit out. It was a map such as is to Be pur-26

Desert Valley

man of her own class. No ^literacy,no wild,shy,awkwardness marked his dem anor. He was as freeand easy as the north wind; he might,after all,belikable. Certainlyit was courtols of him to sethimself on foot to be one of them. The mare looked

gentledespiteher high life;Helen wondered ifAlan Howard had thought of offeringher hismount ?

They had come to the firstof the low-lyinghills." Miss Longstreet,"called Howard, stopping

and turning," wouldn't you like to swing up onSanchia? She is dyingto be ridden."

The trailhere was wide and clearlydefined;henceLongstreetand his two horses went by and Helencame up with Howard. Hers was the trick of level,searchingeyes. She looked steadilyat him as shesaid evenly:

" So her name is Sanchia?"For an instant the man did not appear to under

stand. Then suddenlyHelen was treated to thesightof the warm red seepingup under his tan.And then he slappedhis thigh and laughed,hislaughterseemingunaffected and joyous.

" Talk about gettingabsent-minded in my oldage," he declared. " Her name did use to beSanchia ; I changed it to Helen. Think of my sliding back to the old name."

Helen's candid look did not shiftfor the momentthat she paused. Then she went on by him, followingher father,sayingmerely:

" Thank you, I'llwalk. And if she were mine

Fd keep the old name; Sanchia suitsher exactly."But as she hurried on after her father she had

28

Pay in Raw Gold

time for reflection;plainlythe easy-manneredMr.Alan Howard had renamed his mare onlythis verymorning;as plainlyhad he in the firstplacecalledher Sanchia in honor of some other friend or chance

acquaintance.Helen wondered vaguelywho theoriginalSanchia was. To her imaginationthe namesuggesteda slim,big-eyedMexican girl.She foundtime to wonder further how many times Mr.Howard had named his horse.

They skirted a hill,dippedinto the hollow whichgave passageway between this hill and its twin

neighbor,mounted briefly,and within twenty minutescame to the pool about which legendsflocked.From their vantage pointthey looked down uponit. The sun searched it out almost at the instantthat their eyes caughtthe glintof it. Fed by manyhidden springsit was a still,smooth body of waterin the bowl of the hills;itlooked cool and deep andhad its own air of mystery; in its ancient bosom it

may have hidden bones or gold. Some devotee hadplanteda weepingwillow here longago; the greattree now flourishedand cast itsreflectionacross its

own fallen leaves.Helen's eyes dreamed and soughtvisions;the

'spottouched her with itsromance and she,after thetrue styleof youth,lent aid to the stillinfluences.Alan Howard, to whom this was scarcelyother thanan everydaymatter, turned naturallyto the newand was content to watch the girl.As for Long-street,his regard was busied with the stones at hisfeet and thereafter with a washout upon a hillsidewhere the formation of the hillsthemselves was laidbare to a scientificeye.

29

Desert Valley" There's gold everywhere about here," he an

nounced placidly." But not in the quantitiesIhave promised you, Helen. We'll go on to theLast Ridge country before we stop."

Howard turned from the daughterto considerthe father long and searchingly,after the way ofone man seekinganother's measure.

" As a rule I go kind of slow when it comes tocuttingin on another fellow'splay,"he said bluntly." But I'm going to chipin now with this: I knowthat Last Ridge country from horn to tail and allthe goldthat's in it or has ever been in it wouldn'tbuy a drink of bad whiskeyin Poco Poco."

The lightof forensic battle leapedup brightandeager in Longstreet'seyes. But Howard saw it,andbefore the professor'sunshaken positivenesscouldpour itselfforth in a forensic flood the rancher cutthe whole matter short by sayingcrisply:

" I know. And it'sup to you. I've shot myvolleyto give you the rightslant and you can playout your stringyour own way. Right now we'dbetter be moseyingon; the sun's climbing,pardner."

He passed by them, leadinghis mare toward acrease in the hillswhich gave readypassage out ofthe bowl and again to the sweep of the desert.Longstreetdropped in behind him, drivinghis twohorses,while Helen stood a littlealone by the pool,lookingat it with eyes which stillbrooded. In herhatband was a bluebird feather;her fingersroseto it reminiscently.A faint,dying breeze justbarelystirred the droopingbranches of the willow;in one placethe gracefulpendant leaves mergedwith their own reflections below, faintlyblurring

30

Payment in Raw Gold

them with the slightestof ripples.Here, in thesunlight,was a languidplaceof dreams; by mellow,magic moonlightwhat wonder if there came hithercertain of the last remnants and relics of an old

superstitiouspeople,seekingvisions? And an oldsaw hath it," What ye seek for ye shall find."

Helen looked up; alreadyHoward had passedout of sight;alreadyher father's two pack horseshad followed the rancher's mare beyond the brushyflank of the hill and Longstreethimself would beout of her sightin another moment. She turneda last look upon the stillpond and hurried on.

Now again,as upon yesterdayand the day before,the desert seemed without limit about them.The hot sun mounted; the earth sweltered andbaked and blistered. Heat waves shimmered in the

distances;the distances themselves were withdrawninto the veil of ultimate distances over which theblazingheat lay in what seemed palpablestrata;crunchingrock and gravelin the dry water-coursesburned through thick sole-leather;burningparticlesof sand got into boots and irritatedthe skin ; humansand horses toiled on, hour after hour, from earlylistlessnessto weariness and,before noon, to parchedmisery. Even Howard, who confessed that he waslittleused to walking,admitted that this sort ofthingmade no great Kitwith him. Duringthe forenoon he again offered his mount to Helen; whenshe soughtto demur and hoped to be persuaded,hesuggesteda compromise; theywould take turns, she,her father and himself. By noon, when theycampedfor lunch and a two hours' rest, allthree had ridden.

Barelyperceptiblythe sweeps about them had31

Desert Valley

altered duringthe last hour before midday. Hereand there were low hills dotted occasionallybytrees, covered with sparse dry grass. Here, saidHoward, were the outer fringesof the grazingland;his cattle sometimes strayed as far as this. Thespot chosen for nooningwas a suspicionless breathlesslyhot; there was a sluggishspringringedaboutwith wiry green grass and shaded by a clump ofmongrel trees.

Helen ate little and then lay down and slept.Longstreet,his knees gatheredin his arms, his backto a tree, sat staringthoughtfullyacross the billowingcountry before them; Howard smoked a cigarette,stood a moment lookingcuriouslydown at the wearyfigureof the girl,and then strode off to the nextshade for his own siesta.

" Rode pretty well all night,"he explainedhalfapologeticallyto Longstreetas he went. " Andhaven't walked this much since last time."

Between two and three they started on again.It grew cooler;constantlyas theywent forward theearth showed growing signsof fertilityand, hereand there,of moisture guarded and treasured undera shaggy coat of herbage. Within the first hourthey glimpsed a number of scattered cattle andmules; once Helen cried out at the discoveryof asmall herd of deer browsing in a shaded draw.Then came a low divide;upon its crest was an outcroppingof rock. Here Howard waited until histwo companions came up with him; from here hepointed,sweeping his arm widely from north toeast and south of east.

32

Payment in Raw Gold

" The Last Ridge country, yonder/' he said.They saw it againstthe northeastern horizon.

From the base of the hills on which they stood abroad valleyspread out generously.Marking thevalley'snorthern boundary some half-dozen milesaway, thrown up againstthe sky like a bulwark,was a long broken ridge like a wall of cliff,anembankment stained the many colors of the South

west; red itlooked in streaks and yellowand orangeand even lavender and paleelusive green. It sweptin a broad, irregularcurve about the further levellands;it was carved and notched alongits crest intostrange shapes,here thrustingupward in a singleneedle-like tower, there offeringto the clear sky agrowth like a monster toadstool,againnotched intosaw-tooth edges.

" And here," said Howard, his voice eloquentofhis pride of ownership," my valleylands. FromLast Ridge to the hills across yonder,from thosehills as far as you can see to the south,mile aftermile of it,it'smine, by the Lord! That is,"heamended with a slow smile under Helen's amazed

eyes,"

when I get it all paid for! And there,"hecontinued,pointingthis time to something whiteshowing through the green of a grove upon ameadow land far off toward the southern rim of the

valley," there is home. You'll know the way; I'monly twelve or fifteen miles from the Ridge andso, you see, we're next-door neighbors."

To Helen, as she gazed whither his fingerled,came a strange, unaccustomed thrill. For the firsttime she felt the glory,and forgotthe discomfort,

33

Desert Valleyof the hot sun and the hot land. There was aman's home; set apart from the world and yet sufficientunto itself;here was a man's holding,oneman's, and it was as bigand wide as a king'sestate.She looked swiftlyat the tallman at her side;itwashis or would be his. And he need not have told

her; what she had read in the timbre of his voiceshe saw written largein his eyes; they were brightwith the joyof possession.

" Neighbors,folks,"he was saying. " So let'sbeginthingsin neighborlystyle.Come on homewith me now; stick over a day or so restingup.Then I'llsend a wagon and a coupleof the boysover to the ridgewith you and they'lllend youa hand at diggingin for the lengthof your stay.It's the sensible thing,"he insistedargumentativelyas he saw how Longstreet'sgaze grew eager forthe Ridge. " And I'd consider it an honor, a highhonor."

" You are extremelykind,sir,"said Longstreethesitatingly." But " "

" Come on," cut in Howard warmly, his handon the older man's shoulders. " Just as a favorto me, neighbor.Everything'splainout our way;nothingfancy. But I've got clean beds to sleepin and the kitchen store-room's full and " Why,man, I've even got a bathtub! Come ahead; bea sport and take a chance."

Longstreetsmiled; Helen watched him ques-tioningly.Suddenly she realized that she was atriflecurious about Alan Howard; bath and cleanbeds did tempt her weary body and besides therewould be a certain interest in lookingin upon the

34

Desert Valley

whispered,catchinghold of his arm. " I believehe would killthe man who did it."

Howard was lookingabout him for signsto tellwhence the marauder had come, whither gone. He

pickedup a fresh rib bone, that had been hackedfrom itsplacewith a heavy knife and then gnawedand broken as by a wolfs savage teeth. He notedsomethingelse;he went to it hurriedly.Upon aconspicuousrock,held in placeby a smaller stone,was a small rawhide pouch. It was heavy in hispalm; he opened it and poured itscontents into hispalm. And these contents he showed to Longstreetand Helen, lookingat them wonderingly.

" The gent took what he wanted but he paidfor it,"he said slowly. u In enough raw goldto buy half a dozen young beeves ! That's fairenough, isn't it? The chances are he was in ahurry."

" Maybe," suggestedHelen quickly," he was thesame man whose camp fire we found. He was in

a hurry."Howard pondered but finallyshook his head.

"No; that man had bacon and coffee to leave behind him. It was some other jasper."

Longstreetwas absorbed in another interest. Hetook the unminted gold into his own hands,fingering it and studyingit.

" It is around here everywhere,my dear,"he toldHelen with his old placidassurance. " It is quiteas I have said;if you want fish look for them inthe sea; if you seek gold,not in insignificantquantities,but in a great, thick,rich ledge,come outtoward the Last Ridge country."

36

Payment in Raw Gold

He returned the raw metal to Howard, whodropped it into itsbag and the bag into his pocket.Silent now as each one found company in his ownthoughts,theymoved down the slopeand into thevalley.

37

CHAPTER IV

IN DESERT VALLEY

THE World is an abiding-place of glory. Hewho cannot see it dyed and steeped in colorful

hues owes it to his own happiness to gird up his loinsand move on into another of the splendid chambersof the vast house God has given us; if the dailyviewbefore him no longer offers delight,it is merely andsimply because his eyes have grown accustomed towhat lies just before them and are wearied with it.For, after all, one but requires a complete changeof environment to quicken eye and interest, to fill

again the world with color. Thus, put the manof the sea in the heart of the mountains and he stares

about him at a thousand little things which pass unnoted under the calm eyes of the mountaineer. Or

take up the dweller of the heights and set himaboard a windjammer bucking around the Hornand he will marvel at a sailor's song or the wide

arc of a dizzy mast. So Helen Longstreet now,lifted from a college cityof the East and set down

upon the level floor of the West; so, in the less

nervous way of greater years, her father.

The three were full two hours in walking fromthe base of the hills to Howard's ranch head

quarters. Continuously the girl found fresh inter

ests leaping into her quick consciousness. Theywaded knee deep in lush grass of a meadow into

In Desert Valley

which Howard had broughtwater from the hills;among the grass were strange flowers,red and yellowand blue,risingon tall stalks to lifttheir heads tothe goldensun. From the grass rose birds,startledby their approach,one whirringaway voicelesslyfrom a hidden nest, another, a yellow-and-black-throated lark,singingjoyously.They crossed themeadow and came up the swellingslopeof a gentlehill;upon its flattishtop were oaks; in the shadeof the oaks three black-and-white cows lookedwith mild, approvingeyes upon their three tinyblack-and-white calves. With the picturedmemoryunfading,Helen's eyes were momentarilyheld byan eaglebalancingagainstthe sky; the great bird,as though he were conscious that he held brieflycenter stage, folded his wings and dropped like afallingstone; a ground squirrelshrilled its terrorthrough the stillafternoon and went racingwithjerkingtail toward safety;the great bird saw thefrantic animal scuttle down a hole and unfolded its

wings;againitbalanced briefly,close to the ground;then in a wide spiralreascended the sky.

Came then wide fields with cattle browsinganddrowsing;itwas the firsttime Helen had hearkenedto a bellowingbull,the firsttime she had seen oneof his breed with bent head pawing up grass andearth and flingingthem over the straightline ofhis perfectback; she sensed his lustychallengeandlistenedbreathlesslyto the answeringtrumpet 'callfrom a distant,hidden corral. She saw a herd ofyoung horses,twenty of them perhaps,racingwildlywith flyingmanes and tails and flaringnostrils;astrangelygarbedman on horseback raced after them,

39

Desert Valleyshot by them,headingthem off,a wide loopof ropehissingabove his head. She saw the rope leap out,seemingto the last alive and endowed with the willof the horseman; she heard the man laughsoftlyasthe noose tightenedabout the slender neck of oneof the fleeinghorses.

" That's Gaucho," said Howard. " He's myhorse breaker."

But already the girl'sinterests had wingedanother way. Within ten steps they had come toa new view from a new vantage point. From sometrick of sweep and slopethe valleyseemed morespaciousthan before; through a natural avenue inan oak grove they saw distinctlythe stilldistantwalls of the ranch house ; the sun touched them and

theygleamed back a spotlesswhite. Helen was alleagerness to come to the main building;from afar,here of late havingseen others of itstype, she knewthat itwould be adobe and massive,old and cloakedwith the romance of another time; that even doorsand windows, let into the thick walls,would be ofanother period;that somewhere there would be atrelliswith a sprawlinggrapevineover it;that nodoubt in the yard or alongthe fence would be theyellowSpanishroses.

Below the house they came to the stable. HereHoward paused to tie the three horses but not tounpack or unsaddle.

" I haven't anybody justhanging around to do 'thingslike this for me," he said lightlyas he rejoinedhis guests. " Not until I get the wholethingpaid off. What men I've got are jumpingon the job from sunup to dark. I'll turn you

40

In Desert Valleyloose in the house and then look after the stock

myself."They passed several smaller outbuildings,some

squat and ancient-lookingadobes, others newerframe buildings,all neatlywhitewashed. And thenthe home itself. Quite as Helen has previsioned,there was a low wooden fence about the garden;over the gateway were tangledrose vines disputingpossessionwith a gnarledgrape; the walk from thegate was outlined with the protrudingends of whiteearthen bottles,so in vogue in the southland a few

years ago; a wide, coolly-darkveranda ran thelength of the building;through three feet thickwalls the doorways invited to further coolness.Howard stood aside for them to enter. They foundunderfoot a bare floor;it had been sprinkledfroma watering-potearlier in the afternoon. The roomwas bigand dusky;a few rawhide-bottomed chairs,a longrough table paintedmoss-green, some shelveswith books, furnished the apartment. At one endwas a fireplace.

Howard tossed his hat to the table and openeda door at one end of the room. Before them wasa hallway;a few steps down were two doors,oneon each hand, heavy old doors of thick slabs ofoak, hand-hewn and with rough iron bands acrossthem, top and bottom, the bignail heads showing.Howard threw one open, then the other.

'Your rooms/' he said. " Yours, Miss Helen,opens upon the bath. You'll have to go down thehall to wash, professor.Make yourselvesfree withthe whole house. I'llfeed the horses and be with

you in three shakes."

41

Desert Valley

Before his boot heels had done echoingthroughthe living-roomit was an adventure to Helen topeep into her room. She wondered what she wasgoing to find. Thus far she had had no evidenceof a woman upon the ranch. She knew the sort of

housekeeper her father had demonstrated himselfupon occasions when she had been away visiting;shefullycounted upon seeingthe traces of a man's handhere. But she was delightfullysurprised. Therewas a big,old-fashioned walnut bed neatlymade,covered in smooth whiteness by an ironed spread.There was a washstand with white pitcherlike aptarmiganin the white nest of a bowl, several towelswith red bands towards their ends flankingit. Therewas a littlerocking-chair,a table with some books.The window, because of the thickness of the wall,offered an invitingseat whence one could look intothe tangleof roses of the patio.

" It is like a dream," cried Helen. " A dreamcome true."

She glancedinto her father's room. It was likehers in its neatness and appointmentsbut did nothave her charming outlook. She was turningagaininto her own room when she heard Howard's voiceoutside.

" Angela,"he was calling," I have broughthomefriends. You will see that they have everything.There is a young lady. I am going to the stable."

She heard Angela'smumbled answer. So therewas, after all,at least one woman at the ranch.Helen awaited her expectantly,wondering who andwhat she might be. Then throughher window shesaw Angela come shufflinginto the patio. She was

Desert Valleyit out we've got about twenty or thirtyminutesbefore dinner. Come on, Angela; giveMiss Long-street a chance to get ready."

Angela transferred her scrutinyto him; Howardlaughedat her good-humoredly,laid his hand gentlyon her shrunken shoulder and side by side theywent out.

Helen went singinginto her bath,her weary bodyrested by the thoughtof coolness and cleanlinessanda change of clothing.Little enough did she havein the way of clothing,especiallyfor an eveningwhen she was to meet stillother strangers. Butcertain feminine trinkets had come with her journeying across the desert,and a freshlylaundered washdress and a bit of brightribbon work wonders.When she heard voices in the patio,that of AlanHoward and of another man, this a sonorous bass,she was ready. She went to her father's door;Longstreetwas in the finalstages of his own toilet-making,his face red and shinyfrom his towelling,his sparse hair on end, his whole beingin that condition of bewilderinguntidiness which comes justbefore the ultimate desired orderliness quiteas thethick darkness before the dawn. In this case the

rose fingersof Aurora were Helen's own, patting,pullingand readjusting.Within three minutes sheslippedher hand through the arm of a quiet,scholarly-lookinggentleman and togethertheypaced sedatelyinto the patio.

Howard jumped up from a bench and draggedforward his friend John Carr, introducinghim tohis new friends. And in employingthe word friendand repeatingit,he spokeit as though he meant it.

44

In Desert Valley

Here was a characteristicof the man; he was readyfrom dawn until dark to put out his big squarehand to the world and bringthe world home tohis home for supper and bed and all that both

connote.

But Helen's interest,at least for the flittingmoment, was less for him than for his friend;Howardshe had known since dawn, hence hers had beenample time to assignhim his proper placein herhuman catalogue.Now she turned her level eyesupon the new man. Immediatelyshe knew that ifAlan Howard were an interestingtype, then no lessso, though in his own way, was John Carr. Abiggerman, though not so tall;an older man bysomethinglike half a dozen years, but stillyoungin the eyes and about the clean-shaven mouth; a manwith clear,unwinkingbluish-greyeyes and a finehead carried erect upon a massive brown throat.

Carr was dressed well in a loose serge suit;he worehigh-toppedtan boots; his soft shirt was of goodsilk;his personalityexuded both means and importance. He glancedat Longstreetand lookedtwice or three times as long at Longstreet's daughter. Helen was quiteused to that and it was forno particularreason that she felt her color heightena little. She slippedher hand throughher father'sarm again and they went into supper. Howard,havingindicated the way, clappedCarr upon thethick shoulders and the two friends broughtup therear.

Helen was stillwonderingwhere was the secondguest; Angela had distinctlymentioned Juan Carrand another she termed El Joven. Yet as they

45

Desert Valley

passedfrom the patiointo the big cool dining-roomwith itswhite cloth and plainservice and stiffchairs,she saw no one here. Nor did she find any answerin the number of placesset, but rather a confusedwonder; the table was the lengthof the longroom,"and, at least in so far as number of plateswent,suggesteda banquet.

Howard drew out chairs at one end of the tableso that the four sat together.

14 The boys will be rollingin for supper in halfan hour," he explained.u But you folks are hungryand will want to get to bed earlyso we are notwaitingfor them."

The " boys" were, supposedly,the men he hadworking for him; there must be close to a score ofthem. And they all ate at one table,master andmen and guests when he had them.

"Who is El Joven?" asked Helen.Howard looked puzzled;then his face cleared." Angelatold you El Jovenwas here,too ? " And

to Carr: u He came with you, John? "Carr nodded. Howard then answered Helen." That's Angela'spet name for him ; it means The

Youngster. It is Barbee, Yellow Barbee the boyscall him. He's one of John'smen. They say he'sa regulardevil-of-a-fellowwith the ladies,MissHelen. Look out he doesn't break your heart."

Angela peeredin from the kitchen and withdrew.They heard her gutturalutterance, and thereaftera young Indian boy,black of eyes, slickof plasteredhair and snow-white of apron, came in bringingthesoup. Howard nodded at him, sayinga pleasant" Que hay,Juanitof " The boy uncovered the rare

46

In Desert Valley

whiteness of his splendidteeth in a quicksmile. Hebegan placingthe soup. Helen looked at him; heblushed and withdrew hastilyto the kitchen.Throughout the meal the four talked uncon-

strainedly;it was as though theyhad known oneanother for a dozen years and intimately.Long-street, havingpushed aside his soup plate,engagedhis host in an ardent discussion of the undevelopedpossibilitiesof the Last Ridge country; true, he hadnever set foot upon it,but he knew the last wordof this land's formation and geologicalconstruction,its lifehistoryas it were. All of his life,headmitted freely,he had been a man of scholarshipand theory;the simplestthingimaginable,he heldblandly,was the demonstration of the correctnessof his theories. Meantime Helen talked brightlywith John Carr and listened to Carr's voice.

And a voice well worth listeningto it was. Itsdepth was at once remarkable and pleasing.Atfirstone hearkened to the music of the rich toneitselfrather than to the man's words, justas onemay thrillto the profoundcadences of a deep voicesingingwithout heedingthe words of the song. Butpresentlyshe found herself givingher rapt attentionto Carr's remarks. Here again was one of herown class,a man of quietassurance and culture anddistinction;he knew Boston and he knew the desert.For the firsttime since her father had dragged heracross the continent on his hopelesslymad escapade,Helen felt that after all the East was not entirelyremote from the West. Men like Howard and hisfriend John Carr, types she had never looked tofind here,linked East and West.

47

Desert Valley

Juanito,with lowered, bashful eyes, broughtcoffee,ripeolives from the can, potato salad,andthick,hot steaks. Soon thereafter the boys began tostragglein. Helen heard them at the gate, noisyand eager; for them the supper hour was diurnallya time of a joyous lift of spirit.They clatteredalong the porch like a crowd of schoolboysjustdismissed: theywashed outside by the kitchen doorwith much splashing;they plasteredtheir hair withthe common combs and brushes and entered theshortest way, by the kitchen. They called to eachother back and forth; there was the sound of atremendous clap as some big open hand fell resoundinglyupon some tempting back and a roarfrom the stricken and a gale of booming laughterfrom the smiter and the scuffleof boots and the

crashingof two bigbodies falling.Then theycametroopingin until fifteen or twenty had entered.

One by one Howard introduced them. Plainlynone of them knew of Helen's presence; all of their

eyes showed that. Among them were some fewwho grew abashed; for the most part they duckedtheir heads in acknowledgment and said stiffly," Pleased to meet you," in wooden manner to bothLongstreetand his daughter. But their noisinessdeparted from them and they sat down and ate inbusinesslike style.

Never had Helen sat down with so rough acrowd. They were in shirt sleeves; some woreleathern wrist guards;their vests were open, theirshirts dingy,they were unshaven and their hairgrew long and ragged; they brought with them asmell of horses. There was one man among them

In Desert Valley

who must have been sixtyat the least,a wiry,stooped, white-haired,white-mustached Mexican.There were boys between seventeen and nineteen.There were Americans; at least one Swede; aScotchman ; several who mighthave been any sort ofmixture of southern bloods. And among them all

Helen knew at once, upon the instant that he swaggered in El Joven,Yellow Barbee.

The two names fittedhim as his two glovesmayfit a man's hands; among the young he was TheYoungster as among blonds he was Yellow Barbee.His dress was extravagantlyyouthful;his bootsbore the tallestheels,he was full-panopliedas toornate wristbands and belt and chaps as thoughin full holidayattire;one might wager on the factof his hat on a nail outside being the tallestcrowned, the widest brimmed. His face was likea girl'sfor its smoothness and its prettiness;hiseyes were like blue flowers of sweet innocence; onhis forehead his hair was a cluster of littleyellowringlets.And yet he managed full well to conveythe impressionthat he was less innocent than insolent; a somewhat true impression,for from highheels to fingertipshe was a downright,simon-purerascal.

Yellow Barbee's eyes fairlyinvaded Helen's ashe jerkedher his bow. They were two youngstersand in at least and perhapsin at most one mattertheywere alike : she pridedherself that she " knew "

men, and to Barbee all women were an open, oft-read book.

PlainlyBarbee was somethingof a favorite here;further,being a visitor,he was potentiallyof in-

49

Desert Valley

terest to the men who had not been o# the ranch

for matters of weeks and months. When Alan

Howard and the professor picked up their conversation and again Helen found herself monopolizedby John Carr, from here and there about the table

came pointed remarks to Yellow Barbee. Helen,though she listened to Carr and was never unconscious of her father and Howard, understood after

the strange fashion of women all that was beingsaid about her. Early she gathered that there wassomewhere in the world a dashing young womanstyled the "Widow." Further she had the quick

eyes to see that Barbee blushed when an old cattle

man with a roguish eye cleared his throat and madealoud some remark about Mrs. Murray. Yes;

Barbee the insolent, the swaggering, the worldly-wise and conceited Barbee, actually blushed.

Though the hour was late it was not yet dark

when the meal was done. Somehow Howard was

at Helen's side when they went to the living-roomand out to the front porch; Carr started with them,hesitated and held back, finallystepping over for aword with an old Mexican. Helen noted that

Barbee had moved around the table and was talkingwith her father. As she and Howard found chairs

on the porch, Longstreet and Barbee passed them

and went out, talking together.

Desert Valleydoor of wide rollingmeadows and grazingstock," I guess I'm sort of homesick for it. If it was todo over I don't know that I'd sellit thismorning."

Helen had rested well last night;this morningshe had thrilled anew to the world about her. She

thoughtthat she had never seen such a sunrise ; theday appeared almost to come leapingand shoutingup out of the desert;the air of the morning,beforethe heat came, was nothingless than glorious.Hereyes were bright;there was the flushof joyousnessin her cheeks.

" How a man could own this,"she said slowly," and then could sell it" " She shook her headand looked at him half wonderingly." I don't seehow you could do it."

" You feel that way about it,too?" He brought

his eyes back soberlyto his cigar.Howard, whose swinging stride Helen had

learned to know already,came out from the living-room, hat in hand, carryinga pairof spurs he hadbeen tinkeringwith.

"What are you talkingabout?" he laughed."Somebody dead?"

" Miss Longstreetwas saying,"Carr said quietly,his eyes stillgrave,

" that she couldn't understand

a man sellingan outfitlike this,once he had calledit his own."

" Good for you, Miss Helen," cried Howardheartily." I am with you on that. John, there,must have been out of his senses when he let metalk him out of Desert Valley."

" I don't know but that I was," said Carr.Howard looked at him swiftly,and swiftlythe

52

The Good Old Sport

lightin his eyes altered. For Carr had spokenthoughtfullyand soberlyand there was no hint ofjestin the man.

" You don't mean, John," said Alan a trifleuncertainly," that you are sorry you let go? Thatyou are not satisfied"

"

Carr appeared to be consideringthe matter asthough it were enwrapped in his cigar. He tookample time in replying,so much time,in fact,thatHelen found herself growing impatientfor hisreply.

" SupposeI were sorry?" he said finally." Suppose I were not satisfied? Then what? The dealis made and a bargain,old timer,is a bargain."

Now it was Howard's turn for silence and sober

eyes. He looked intentlyinto his friend's face ; thenwith a lingeringaffection across his broad lands.

" Not between friends,"he said. " Not betweenfriends like you and me, John. I've hardlygotmy hooks into it;you had it longenough for it toget to be a part of you. If you made a mistakein selling,if you know it now " " He shruggedand smiled. " Why, of course it doesn't mean asmuch to me as to you and anyway it'syours untilI get all my payments made and if you say theword""

''Well?" asked Carr steadily." Why," cried Howard, " we'll frame a new

deal this very minute and you can take it overagain! "

'You'd do that for me, Al?"'You're damned well right,I would!" cried

Howard heartily.And Helen understood that for53

Desert Valley

the moment at least he had forgottenthat she waspresent.

A slow smile came into Carr's eyes." That's square shooting,Long Boy," he spoke

more impetuouslythan Helen had thoughtthe mancould. " But I never went back on a playyet, didI? I'm justsort of homesick for the old place,that's all. Forgetit." He slappedHoward uponthe shoulder,the two friends' eyes met for a moment of utter understandingand he went on downto the stable,callingback, " I'm going to take thebest horse you'vegot " that would be Bel and noother " and ride. So long."

" So long,"answered Howard.Carr gone from sight,Howard stood musing a

moment, unconscious of Helen's wondering eyesupon him. Then he turned to her and began speakingof his friend;bigand generous and manly,wasCarr; a man to tie to and, though he did not sayit in so many words, a man to die for. He explainedhow Carr had taken the old Diaz ranchthat had been Spanishand then Mexican in itstimeand had made it over into what it was, the greateststock run north of the Rio Grande and west of the

Mississippi.Helen's interest was ready and sympatheticand Howard passed from one pointtoanother until he had sketched the way in which theranch had been sold to him. And the girl,thoughshe knew littleenough about business methods, wasstartled to learn how these two men trusted eachother. She recalled what Carr had said;betweenhim and Howard a deal involvingmany thousandsof dollars was as simplea matter as the sale of a

54

The Good Old Sport

horse. The two, ridingtogether,had in a fewwords agreedupon priceand terms. They had returned to the house and Howard had written a checkfor seven thousand dollars as firstpayment; all ofhis readycash,he admitted freely,savingwhat hemust keep on hand for ranch manipulation.Therewas no deed given,no deed of trust, no mortgage.It was understood that Howard should pay certainsums at certain specifieddates;each man had jotteddown his memoranda in his own hand; the deal wasmade.

" But," gasped Helen, " if anythingunforeseenshould happen? If" if he should die? Or you?If""

" In any case there would be one of us left,wouldn't there?" he countered in his offhand way." Unless we both went out, and then what difference? He has no one to look out for;neither haveI. Besides,"he laughedcarelessly," John and 1both plan on being on the job a good fiftyyearsfrom now. " Come out here and I'llshow you areal horse."

She went with him to the porch. Carr was leavingthe stable,ridingBel. Helen knew littleenoughof horseflesh and yet she understood that here wasan animal to catch anyone'seye; yes, and Carr, sittingmassive and stalwart in the saddle,was a manto hold any woman's. The horse was a big,brightbay; mane and tail were like fine gold; the sunwinked back from them and from the gloriousreddish hide. Carr saw them and waved his hat; Beldanced sidewaysand whirled and for an instantstood upon his rear legs,his thin,aristocraticfore-

55

Desert Valley

legsflayingthe air. Then came Carr's deep basslaugh;the polishedhoofs struck the ground and theywere off,flashingaway across the meadowlands.

" Some day,"said Helen, her eyes sparkling," Iwant to ride a horse like that ! " She turned to him

askingeagerly," Could I learn?"" If with all my heart I wanted to be a first-rate

Philadelphialawyer or a third-rate San Franciscopolitician,"he announced with that sweepingposi-tiveness which was one of his characteristics," I'dconsider the jobdone to start with ! All you'vegotto do is to want a thing,want it hard, and it'sasgood as yours. Now, to beginwith, you love ahorse. The rest is easy."

Helen saw her father,accompaniedby youngBarbee, emerge from behind the stable,and sighed.

" I don't believe you know what failure means,"she said.

" There isn'tany such bird,"he laughedat her."Not really."

" Then," her eyes stillupon the pairtalkingtogetherby the stable door, " dear old dad shouldfind his goldmine. He wants it with all his heart,Heaven knows. And he has the faith that is supposed to move mountains."

Howard scratched his head. Within the fewhours he had come to like the old professor,forLongstreet,though academic,was a straight-from-the-shoulder type of man, one of no subterfuges.And yet he did not greatlyinspireconfidence;hewas not the type that breathes efficiency.

" Tell me about him," Howard urged. " Whatmakes him so dead certainhe can nail his Golconda

56

The Good Old Sport

out here ? I take ithe has never been out this waybefore,and that he doesn't know a whole lot of ourpart of the country."

Confidence inspiresconfidence. Howard hadhardlyfinished sketchingfor her his own plansandhopes;he had gone succinctlyand openlyinto detailconcerninghis deal with John Carr. Now Helen,glad to talk with someone, answered in kind.

" The Universityelected a young president,aNew Broom," she said bitterly." He is a manof more ambition than brains. His slogan is' Young Men.' He ousted father togetherwitha dozen other men of his age. I thoughtfather'sheart would be broken; he had devoted all of the

years of his life,all of his best work, to his University.But instead he was simplyenraged! Canyou imaginehim in a perfectlytoweringrage?"

Howard grinned. " Go ahead," he chuckled." He's a good old sport and I like him."

' Well," said Helen without meetinghis smile," father and I went into business session rightaway.We had never had much money; father had nevercared for wealth measured in money; had alwaysbeen richlycontent with his professor'ssalary;hadnever saved or asked me to save. When the thinghappened,all we had in the world was a littleoverseven hundred dollars. I was rightaway for economizing,for managing,for turningto some otherposition.But father,I tell you, was in a perfectrage. When I mentioned finances to him he got upand shouted. * Money! ' he yelledat me. * What'smoney? Who wants money? It's a fool's gameto get money; anybody can do it.' When he saw

57

Desert Valley

that I doubted he told me to pack up that very dayand he'd show me; he'd show the world. The new

universityman named him an old fogy,did he?He'd show him. Didn't he know more than anyother man livingabout geology? About the makingof the earth and the minerals of the earth? Wasit any trick to find gold? Not in the dribbles,butsuch a mine as never a miner drove a pickintoyet?"

She sighedagainand grew silent. Howard, toying idlywith the spurs in his hands, could at themoment find nothingto say.

" Dear old pops," she said more softlyin amoment.

" I am afraid that his heart-breakingtime is coming now. When he learns that it isn'tso easy to find gold,after all."

" No," said Howard slowly. " No. It doesn'tbreak a man's heart. For he is always sure thatitis coming the next day and the next and the next.I've known them to go on that way until theydiedand then know in their hearts that they'dmake astrike the next day" if onlythe Lord would sparethem twenty-fourhours more."

" I wanted father to bank our money," went onHelen, her eyes darkening. " I wanted to go towork, to earn something. I can teach. But hewouldn't hear of it. He said" he said that if thetime had come when he couldn't support his owndaughter it was high time he was dead."

Howard nodded his understanding." He's, agood sport, I tell you," he maintained warmly." And 1 like him. Who knows but that he maymake his ten-strike here after all? Or," as he

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Desert Valley

his insolent eyes upon her. Helen, deeming himoverbold, sought to " squelch" him with a look.Instead she saw both mirth and admiration shiningin the baby-blueeyes. She turned her back uponEl Joven,who retaliated by turninghis back uponher and swaggeringaway into the stable,whistlingthroughhis teeth as he went. Howard went withhim for his horse.

" Papa," said Helen after the stern fashion whichin time comes natural to the girlwith a waywardfather," what are you two up to?"

" My darling,"said Longstreethurriedly," whatdo you mean?

"

" I mean you and that young scamp. He's bad,papa; bad all the way through. And you, you dearold innocent""

Longstreetglancedhastilyover his shoulder andthen frowned at her.

" You mustn't talk that way. He is a remarkablyfine young fellow. We are in a new environment,you and I,Helen. We are in Rome and must learn

somethingof the Romans. Now, Mr. Barbee " "" Is Roman all the way through!

" sniffed

Helen. " You justlook out that he doesn't leadyou into mischief."

In the stable Howard was saddlingtwo horses,meaning to invite Helen to beginher serious studynow. He, too, was interested in the odd friendshipwhich seemed to be growing up so swiftlybetweentwo men so utterlyunlike. He turned to Barbeeto ask a questionand saw the young fellow stoopand sweep up somethingthat had fallen into the

60

The Good Old Sport

straw underfoot. Howard's eyes were quick andkeen; it was onlya flash but he recognizeda ten ofspades. He turned back to the latigohe was drawingtight.But before theyleft the stable he offeredcarelessly:

" What do you think of the professor,Barbee ?"

And Barbee answered joyously:" He's a reg'larring-tailedold he-devil,Al." He

winked brightly." One of these days him and meis going to drift down to Tres Pinos. And, say,won't the town know about us?"

"What do you mean?" demanded Howard

sharply.Barbee considered him a thoughtfulmoment.

Then he shrugged." Oh, nothing,"he said.

61

CHAPTER VI

THE YOUTHFUL HEART

TO both Helen and her father, tarrying atDesert Valley Ranch, the long still hot dayswere fraught with much new interest. Life was newand golden, viewed from this fresh viewpoint.Helen had come hitherward from her city hauntswith trepidation; even Longstreet, serenely optimistic regarding the ultimate crown of success tohis labor, was genuinely delighted. The dayspassed all too swiftly.

As can in no way be held reprehensiblein one ofher age and maidenly beauty and charm, Helen'sinterest had to do primarily with men, two men.They, quite as should be in this land of novelty,were unlike the men she had known. With each

passing hour Helen came to see this more clearly.She was a bright young woman, alert and with atleast a modicum of scientific mental attitude inherited

from the machinery of her father's brain. Like anyother healthy young animal she wanted to know

whys and wherefores and the like.

The evening of their first day, alone in her roomfor an hour before bed, she settled for herself thefirst difference between these men of the desert

fringes and the men she had known at home. To

begin with she reviewed in mind her old acquaintances: there were a half-dozen professors, in-

62

The Youthful Heart

structors, assistants who called infrequentlyon herfather and whom she had come to know with adegree of familiarity.The youngest of them hadbeen twenty years older than Helen and, whereasher father was always an old dear, sometimes ahopelessand helplessold dear,theywere simplyoldfogies.They constituted,however, an importantdepartmentin her male friends;the rest were aseasilycatalogued.They were the young collegemen; men in name only,boys in actuality.Theywere of her own age or two or four years older ora year younger. They danced and made mysteriousreferences to the beer they had wickedlydrunk;theymotored in their fathers' cars and playedtennisin their fathers' flannels when theyfitted;no doubttheywere men in the making,but to judgethem asmen alreadywas like lookingprematurelyinto theoven to see how the bread was doing;theywere stillunder-baked. So far they were playingwith thegame of life;Life,herself,had not yet taken themseriously,had not reached out the iron hand thateventuallywould seize them by the back of the neck,the slack of the trousers, and pitchthem out intothe open arena.

Helen was considerablypleasedwith the resultof her meditations: her father's academic friendshad held back behind collegewalls and thus hadnever come out into the scrimmagethat makes men;her own young friends had not yet reached the timewhen theywould buckle on their armor and mountand take lance in hand. Alan Howard and JohnCarr were men who for a number of years had doneman's work out in the open, no doubt givingand

63

Desert Valley

receivingdoughty blows. She considered Carr: hehad taken a monster outfit like Desert Valley andhad made itover, in his own image,like a god working. There were thousands of acres, she had noidea how many. There were cattle and horses and

mules; again she thought of them only vaguely ascountless. There were many men obeying hisorders, takinghis dailywage. Carr had mastereda bigjob and the job had made a masterlyman ofhim. Then had come Alan Howard with vision anddetermination and courage. He had expendedalmost his last cent for a firstpayment upon the hugeproperty; he was riskingall that he had gatheredof the world's goods,he was out in the open waginghis battle like a young king claiminghis heritage.Helen clothed the act in the purple and gold ofromance and thrilled at her own picture.

" After all,"she discovered," there are differentkinds of men and I never knew men like these two."

Then, when she thought of Yellow Barbee, shesniffed. Barbee was about her own age; she considered him a mere child and transparent.

She had said good-nightto her father,but nowsuddenlyin a mood for conversation went out intothe hall and tiptoedto his door. When there cameno response to her gentletappingshe opened thedoor and discovered only darkness and emptiness.She was mildlysurprised;distinctlyshe had heardhim go into his room and close his door and she

had not heard him go out again.

There are men who, though theymay live to bea hundred years old, keep always the fresh heart

The Youthful Heart

of twenty. James Edward Longstreetwas one ofthem. He was a man of considerable erudition;hehad always supposed that the choice had lain entirelywith him. He had alwaysbeen amplycontentwith his existence,had geniallyconsidered that thewhole of the brightstream of life,gentlydeflected,had flowed throughhis collegehalls and under hiscalm eyes. Now his youthfulsoul was in a delightful turmoil;adventures had come to him, more adventures were coming. Men like Barbee had givenhim the stanch hand of friendship;they had welcomed him as an equal. And somethinguntil nowuntouched,unguessed,that had lived on in his boy'sheart, stirred and awoke and thrilled. Tonight,with a vague sense of guiltwhich made the escapadebut the more electric,while his daughter had imaginedthat he was gettinghimself sedatelyinto hislong-tailed,sedate nightgown, he was beamingwarmly upon the highlyentertained group of ranchhands down in the men's bunkhouse. Whither, bythe way, he had been led by Barbee.

There comes now and then to such an isolation asDesert Valleya* boon from the gods in the guiseofa tenderfoot. But never tenderfoot,agreed theoldest Mexican with the youngest Texan, like this

one. They sat lined in back-tilted chairs about thefour walls and studied him with eyes that were atall times appreciative,often downright grave. Hisignorancewas astounding;his hunger for information amazing. He was a man from Mars whoknew all that was to be known in his own worldbut brought into this strange planet a frank andburningcuriosity.Barbee's chaps delightedhim; a

6.5

Desert Valley

hair rope awoke in his soul an avaricious hungerfora hair rope of his own; commonplace ranch matterslike brandingand marking and breedingand weaningand breaking,evoked countless eager questions.For so academic a man, the strange thingabout himwas his attitudetoward these day laborers;he lookedupon them as brothers;not onlythat,but as olderbrothers. He forgothis own wisdom in his thirstto partakeof theirs. He gave the full of his admiration to a man whom he had seen that day casta wide loop of rope about the horns of a runningsteer.

He was making discoveries hand over fist;perhapstherein laya sufficientreason why the man of sciencein him was fascinated. True, those discoverieswhich he made were new only to him; yet onemight say the same of America and Columbus. Forone thing,it dawned on him that here was a newand excellent technical vocabulary;he stored awayin his brain strange words as a squirrelsticks nutsand acorns into a hole. Hondo, tapaderos,badhombre, tecolote,bronco, maverick, side-winder,"rapaciouslyhe seized upon them as bits of the argotof fairyland.He watched the expert roll the browntube of a cigaretteand yearned for the skill;heobserved tricks in ridingand there was within himthe compellingurge to ride like that; not a trifleescaped his shark-eyes,be itthe way the men combedtheir hair,mounted their horses or dragged theirspurs. Tonight and with unhidden elation he acceptedBarbee's invitation to " set in and roll thebones " with them. " Roll the bones! " When some

day he went back home, the owner of the " greatest66

Desert Valley* That's what I'm playinghim for,Toddy," he

admitted with his cheerful grin.In the end the Longstreetswent from Desert

Valleystraighton to the nearest town, that of BigRun, onlya dozen miles stilleast of the ranch. Thesuggestioncame from Longstreethimself,who hadhad a picturesqueaccount of the settlement fromBarbee.

" I estimate,"the professorannounced at breakfast," that we shall be the matter of two or threemonths at Last Ridge. What comforts we havethere will be the results of our own efforts. Now,though we have broughtwith us certain of the absolute necessities,there is much in the way of provision and sundries that we should have. Mr.Howard has been so very considerate as to offer

us a wagon and horses and even a driver. 1 think,my dear, that we would do well to drive into BigRun, which I understand is a progressivecommunitywith an excellent store. We can get what we re

quirethere and the next day return to the LastRidge."Only approvalgreeted his words. Howard, it

appeared,had business in Big Run and would makethe tripwith them; Carr judged that it was timefor him to be clearingout and his way led throughBig Run. So they hurried through breakfast andstarted.

Tod Barstow handled the reins of the four mules;beside him on the high,rockingseat, sat Longstreet.During his sojournon the ranch he had acquiredabigbrightred bandana handkerchief which now wasknotted looselyabout his sun-reddened throat;the

68

The Youthful Heart

former crease in his big hat had givenplaceto atall peak; he wore a pair of leather wrist-cuffswhich he had purchasedfrom Barbee. Barstowgrunted and turned the grunt into a shrillyelldirected at his mules ; theyknew his voice and jammedtheir necks deep into their collars,takingthe roadat a run. Longstreet,taken unawares, bounced andcame dangerouslynear topplingoff the seat. Thenwith both hands he clungto the iron guard-rodatthe back of the seat and took his joy out of a newmode of travel.

Helen had elected to go on horseback. Howardhad broughtout for her a pretty littlemare, coal-black and slender-limbed,but sufficientlygentle.Barbee, who had been wa