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The Ranchman Part 4

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And during the silence she sat very still, her face white and her lips stiff, waiting.

The silence seemed to endure for an age; and then it was broken by the sound of voices, the opening of the door of the car, and the appearance of Taylor and some other men-several members of the train-crew; the express-messenger; the engineer, his right arm hanging limply-and two men, preceding the others, their hands bound, their faces sullen.

On Taylor's face was the grin that had been on it all along. The girl wondered at the man's marvelous self-control-for certainly during those moments of excitement and danger he must have been aware of the terrible risk he had been running. And then the thought struck her-she had not considered that phase of the situation before-that she _must_ have screamed; that he had heard her, and had emerged from the smoking-room to protect her. She blushed, grat.i.tude and a riot of other emotions overwhelming her, so that she leaned weakly back in the seat, succ.u.mbing to the inevitable reaction.

She did not look at Taylor again; she did not even see him as he walked toward the rear of the car, followed by the train-crew, and preceded by the two train-robbers he had captured.

But as the train-crew pa.s.sed her, she heard one of them say:

"That guy's a whirlwind with a gun! Didn't do no hesitatin', did he?"

And again:

"Now, what do you suppose would make a guy jump in that way an' run a chance of gettin' plugged-plenty? Do you reckon he was just yearnin'

fer trouble, or do you reckon they was somethin' else behind it?"

The girl might have answered, but she did not. She sat very still, comparing Carrington with this man who had plunged instantly into a desperate gun-fight to protect her. And she knew that Carrington would not have done as Taylor had done. And had Carrington seen her face just at that moment he would have understood that there was no possibility of him ever achieving the success of which he had dreamed.

She heard one of the men say that the two men were to be placed in the baggage-car until they reached Dawes; and then Carrington and Parsons came to where she sat.

They talked, but the girl did not hear them, for her thoughts were on the picture Taylor made when he appeared at the door of the smoking-compartment arrayed in his cowboy rigging, the grim smile on his face, his guns flaming death to the man who thought to take advantage of her helplessness.

CHAPTER V-THE UNEXPECTED

The train pulled out again presently, and the water-tank and the cut were rapidly left in the rear. Taylor returned to the smoking-room and resumed his seat, and while the girl looked out of the window, some men of the train-crew removed the body of the train-robber and obliterated all traces of the fight. And Carrington and Parsons, noting the girl's abstractedness, again left her to herself.

It had been the girl's first glimpse of a man in cowboy raiment, and, as she reflected, she knew she might have known Taylor was an unusual man.

However, she knew it now.

Cursory glances at drawings she had seen made her familiar with the type, but the cowboys of those drawings had been magnificently arrayed in leather _chaparajos_, usually fringed with spangles; and with long-roweled spurs; magnificent wide brims-also bespangled, and various other articles of personal adornment, bewildering and awe inspiring.

But this man, though undoubtedly a cow-puncher, was minus the magnificent raiment of the drawings. And, paradoxical as it may seem, the absence of any magnificent trappings made _him_ seem magnificent.

But she was not so sure that it was the lack of those things that gave her that impression. He did not _bulge_ in his cowboy clothing; it fitted him perfectly. She was sure it was he who gave magnificence to the clothing. Anyway, she was certain he was magnificent, and her eyes glowed. She knew, now that she had seen him in clothing to which he was accustomed, and which he knew how to wear, that she would have been more interested in him yesterday had he appeared before her arrayed as he was at this moment.

He had shown himself capable, self-reliant, confident. She would have given him her entire admiration had it not been for the knowledge that she had caught him eavesdropping. That action had almost d.a.m.ned him in her estimation-it would have completely and irrevocably condemned him had it not been for her recollection of the stern, almost savage interest she had seen in his eyes while he had been listening to Carrington and Parsons.

She knew because of that expression that Carrington and Parsons had been discussing something in which he took a personal interest. She had not said so much to Carrington, but her instinct told her, warned her, gave her a presentiment of impending trouble. That was what she had meant when she had told Carrington she had seen _fighting_ in Taylor's eyes.

Taylor confined himself to the smoking-compartment. The negro porter, with pleasing memories of generous tips and a grimmer memory to exact his wors.h.i.+p, hung around him, eager to serve him, and to engage him in conversation; once he grinningly mentioned the incident of the cast-off clothing of the night before.

"I ain't mentionin' it, boss-not at all! I ain't givin' you them duds till you ast for them. You done took me by s'prise, boss-you shuah did.

I might' near caved when you shoved that gun under ma nose-I shuah did, boss. I don't want to have nothin' to do with your gun, boss-I shuah don't. She'd go 'pop,' an' I wouldn't be heah no more!

"I didn't reco'nize you in them heathen clo's you had on yesterday, boss; but I minds you with them duds on. I knows you; you're 'Squint'

Taylor, of Dawes. I've seen you on that big black hoss of yourn, a prancin' an' a prancin' through town-more'n once I've seen you. But I didn't know you in them heathen clo's yesterday, boss-'deed I didn't!"

Later the porter slipped into the compartment. For a minute or two he fussed around the room, setting things to order, meanwhile chuckling to himself. Occasionally he would cease his activities long enough to slap a knee with the palm of a hand, with which movement he would seem to be convulsed with merriment, and then he would resume work, chuckling audibly.

For a time Taylor took no notice of his antics, but they a.s.sailed his consciousness presently, and finally he asked:

"What's eating you, George?"

The query was evidently just what "George" had been waiting for. For now he turned and looked at Taylor, his face solemn, but a white gleam of mirth in his eyes belying the solemnity.

"Tips is comin' easy for George this mornin'," he said; "they shuah is.

No trouble at all. If a man wants to get tips all he has to be is a dictionary-he, he, he!"

"So you're a dictionary, eh? Well, explain the meaning of this." And he tossed a silver dollar to the other.

The dollar in hand, George tilted his head sidewise at Taylor.

"How on earth you know I got somethin' to tell you?"

"How do I know I've got two hands?"

"By lookin' at them, boss."

"Well, that's how I know you've got something to tell me-by looking at you."

The porter chuckled. "I reckon it's worth a dollar to have a young lady interested in you," he told himself in a confidential voice, without looking at Taylor; "ya.s.sir, it's sure worth a dollar." He slapped his knee delightedly. "That young lady a heap interested in you, 'pears like. While ago she pens me in a corner of the platform. 'Porter, who's that man in the smoking-compartment-that cowboy? What's his name, an'

where does he live?' I hesitates, 'cause I didn't want to betray no secrets-an' scratch my haid. Then she pop half a dollar in my hand, an'

I tole her you are Squint Taylor, an' that you own the Arrow ranch, not far from Dawes. An' she thank me an' go away, grinnin'."

"And the young lady, George; do you know her name?"

"Them men she's travelin' with calls her Marion, boss."

He peered intently at Taylor for signs of interest. He saw no such signs, and after a while, noting that Taylor seemed preoccupied, and was evidently no longer aware of his presence, he slipped out noiselessly.

At nine thirty, Taylor, looking out of the car window, noted that the country was growing familiar. Fifteen minutes later the porter stuck his head in between the curtains, saw that Taylor was still absorbed, and withdrew. At nine fifty-five the porter entered the compartment.

"We'll be in Dawes in five minutes, boss," he said. "I've toted your baggage to the door."

The porter withdrew, and a little later Taylor got up and went out into the aisle. At the far end of the car, near the door, he saw Marion Harlan, Parsons, and Carrington.

He did not want to meet them again after what had occurred in the diner, and he cast a glance toward the door behind him, hoping that the porter had carried his baggage to that end of the car. But the platform was empty-his suitcase was at the other end.

He slipped into a seat on the side of the train that would presently disclose to him a view of Dawes's depot, and of Dawes itself, leaned an elbow on the window-sill, and waited. Apparently the three persons at the other end of the car paid no attention to him, but glancing sidelong once he saw the girl throw an interested glance at him.

And then the air-brakes hissed; he felt the train slowing down, and he got up and walked slowly toward the girl and her companions. At about the same instant she and the others began to move toward the door; so that when the train came to a stop they were on the car platform by the time Taylor reached the door. And by the time he stepped out upon the car platform the girl and her friends were on the station platform, their baggage piled at their feet.

Dawes's depot was merely a roofless platform; and there was no shelter from the glaring white sun that flooded it. The change from the subdued light of the coach to the s.h.i.+mmering, blinding glare of the sun on the wooden planks of the platform affected Taylor's eyes, and he was forced to look downward as he alighted. And then, not looking up, he went to the baggage-car and pulled his two prisoners out.

Looking up as he walked down the platform with the two men, he saw a transformed Dawes.

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The Ranchman Part 4 summary

You're reading The Ranchman. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Charles Alden Seltzer. Already has 638 views.

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