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Diablo was in his stride, but the distance and angle favored Sol. The raider had no carbine. He held aloft a gun ready to level it and fire.
He sat the saddle as if it were a stationary seat. Gale saw Ladd lean down and drop the .405 in the sand. He would take no chances of wounding Belding's best-loved horse.
Then Gale sat transfixed with suspended breath watching the horses thundering toward him. Blanco Diablo was speeding low, fleet as an antelope, fierce and terrible in his devilish action, a horse for war and blood and death. He seemed unbeatable. Yet to see the magnificently running Blanco Sol was but to court a doubt. Gale stood spellbound. He might have shot the raider; but he never thought of such a thing. The distance swiftly lessened. Plain it was the raider could not make the opening ahead of Ladd. He saw it and swerved to the left, emptying his six-shooter as he turned. His dark face gleamed as he flashed by Gale.
Blanco Sol thundered across. Then the race became straight away up the valley. Diablo was cold and Sol was hot; therein lay the only handicap and vantage. It was a fleet, beautiful, magnificent race. Gale thrilled and exulted and yelled as his horse settled into a steadily swifter run and began to gain. The dust rolled in a funnel-shaped cloud from the flying hoofs. The raider wheeled with gun puffing white, and Ladd ducked low over the neck of his horse.
The gap between Diablo and Sol narrowed yard by yard. At first it had been a wide one. The raider beat his mount and spurred, beat and spurred, wheeled round to shoot, then bent forward again. In his circle at the upper end of the valley he turned far short of the jumble of rocks.
All the devil that was in Blanco Diablo had its running on the downward stretch. The strange, cruel urge of bit and spur, the crazed rider who stuck like a burr upon him, the shots and smoke added terror to his natural violent temper. He ran himself off his feet. But he could not elude that relentless horse behind him. The running of Blanco Sol was that of a sure, remorseless driving power--steadier--stronger--swifter with every long and wonderful stride.
The raider tried to sheer Diablo off closer under the wall, to make the slope where his companion had escaped. But Diablo was uncontrollable.
He was running wild, with breaking gait. Closer and closer crept that white, smoothly gliding, beautiful machine of speed.
Then, like one white flash following another, the two horses gleamed down the bank of a wash and disappeared in clouds of dust.
Gale watched with strained and smarting eyes. The thick throb in his ears was pierced by faint sounds of gunshots. Then he waited in almost unendurable suspense.
Suddenly something whiter than the background of dust appeared above the low roll of valley floor. Gale leveled his gla.s.s. In the clear circle shone Blanco Sol's n.o.ble head with its long black bar from ears to nose. Sol's head was drooping now. Another second showed Ladd still in the saddle.
The ranger was leading Blanco Diable--spent--broken--dragging--riderless.
IX
AN INTERRUPTED SIESTA
NO man ever had a more eloquent and beautiful pleader for his cause than had d.i.c.k Gale in Mercedes Castaneda. He peeped through the green, s.h.i.+ning twigs of the palo verde that shaded his door. The hour was high noon, and the patio was sultry. The only sounds were the hum of bees in the flowers and the low murmur of the Spanish girl's melodious voice. Nell lay in the hammock, her hands behind her head, with rosy cheeks and arch eyes. Indeed, she looked rebellious. Certain it was, d.i.c.k reflected, that the young lady had fully recovered the wilful personality which had lain dormant for a while. Equally certain it seemed that Mercedes's earnestness was not apparently having the effect it should have had.
d.i.c.k was inclined to be rebellious himself. Belding had kept the rangers in off the line, and therefore d.i.c.k had been idle most of the time, and, though he tried hard, he had been unable to stay far from Nell's vicinity. He believed she cared for him; but he could not catch her alone long enough to verify his tormenting hope. When alone she was as illusive as a shadow, as quick as a flash, as mysterious as a Yaqui. When he tried to catch her in the garden or fields, or corner her in the patio, she eluded him, and left behind a memory of dark-blue, haunting eyes. It was that look in her eyes which lent him hope. At other times, when it might have been possible for d.i.c.k to speak, Nell clung closely to Mercedes. He had long before enlisted the loyal Mercedes in his cause; but in spite of this Nell had been more than a match for them both.
Gale pondered over an idea he had long revolved in mind, and which now suddenly gave place to a decision that made his heart swell and his cheek burn. He peeped again through the green branches to see Nell laughing at the fiery Mercedes.
"Qui'en sabe," he called, mockingly, and was delighted with Nell's quick, amazed start.
Then he went in search of Mrs. Belding, and found her busy in the kitchen. The relation between Gale and Mrs. Belding had subtly and incomprehensively changed. He understood her less than when at first he divined an antagonism in her. If such a thing were possible she had retained the antagonism while seeming to yield to some influence that must have been fondness for him. Gale was in no wise sure of her affection, and he had long imagined she was afraid of him, or of something that he represented. He had gone on, openly and fairly, though discreetly, with his rather one-sided love affair; and as time pa.s.sed he had grown less conscious of what had seemed her unspoken opposition. Gale had come to care greatly for Nell's mother. Not only was she the comfort and strength of her home, but also of the inhabitants of Forlorn River. Indian, Mexican, American were all the same to her in trouble or illness; and then she was nurse, doctor, peacemaker, helper. She was good and n.o.ble, and there was not a child or grownup in Forlorn River who did not love and bless her. But Mrs.
Belding did not seem happy. She was brooding, intense, deep, strong, eager for the happiness and welfare of others; and she was dominated by a wors.h.i.+p of her daughter that was as strange as it was pathetic. Mrs.
Belding seldom smiled, and never laughed. There was always a soft, sad, hurt look in her eyes. Gale often wondered if there had been other tragedy in her life than the supposed loss of her father in the desert.
Perhaps it was the very unsolved nature of that loss which made it haunting.
Mrs. Belding heard d.i.c.k's step as he entered the kitchen, and, looking up, greeted him.
"Mother," began d.i.c.k, earnestly. Belding called her that, and so did Ladd and Lash, but it was the first time for d.i.c.k. "Mother--I want to speak to you."
The only indication Mrs. Belding gave of being started was in her eyes, which darkened, shadowed with multiplying thought.
"I love Nell," went on d.i.c.k, simply, "and I want you to let me ask her to be my wife."
Mrs. Belding's face blanched to a deathly white. Gale, thinking with surprise and concern that she was going to faint, moved quickly toward her, took her arm.
"Forgive me. I was blunt.... But I thought you knew."
"I've known for a long time," replied Mrs. Belding. Her voice was steady, and there was no evidence of agitation except in her pallor.
"Then you--you haven't spoken to Nell?"
d.i.c.k laughed. "I've been trying to get a chance to tell her. I haven't had it yet. But she knows. There are other ways besides speech. And Mercedes has told her. I hope, I almost believe Nell cares a little for me."
"I've known that, too, for a long time," said Mrs. Belding, low almost as a whisper.
"You know!" cried d.i.c.k, with a glow and rush of feeling.
"d.i.c.k, you must be very blind not to see what has been plain to all of us.... I guess--it couldn't have been helped. You're a splendid fellow. No wonder she loves you."
"Mother! You'll give her to me?"
She drew him to the light and looked with strange, piercing intentness into his face. Gale had never dreamed a woman's eyes could hold such a world of thought and feeling. It seemed all the sweetness of life was there, and all the pain.
"Do you love her?" she asked.
"With all my heart."
"You want to marry her?"
"Ah, I want to! As much as I want to live and work for her."
"When would you marry her?"
"Why!... Just as soon as she will do it. To-morrow!" d.i.c.k gave a wild, exultant little laugh.
"d.i.c.k Gale, you want my Nell? You love her just as she is--her sweetness--her goodness? Just herself, body and soul?... There's nothing could change you--nothing?"
"Dear Mrs. Belding, I love Nell for herself. If she loves me I'll be the happiest of men. There's absolutely nothing that could make any difference in me."
"But your people? Oh, d.i.c.k, you come of a proud family. I can tell.
I--I once knew a young man like you. A few months can't change pride--blood. Years can't change them. You've become a ranger. You love the adventure--the wild life. That won't last. Perhaps you'll settle down to ranching. I know you love the West. But, d.i.c.k, there's your family--"
"If you want to know anything about my family, I'll tell you,"
interrupted d.i.c.k, with strong feeling. "I've not secrets about them or myself. My future and happiness are Nell's to make. No one else shall count with me."
"Then, d.i.c.k--you may have her. G.o.d--bless--you--both."
Mrs. Belding's strained face underwent a swift and mobile relaxation, and suddenly she was weeping in strangely mingled happiness and bitterness.
"Why, mother!" Gale could say no more. He did not comprehend a mood seemingly so utterly at variance with Mrs. Belding's habitual temperament. But he put his arm around her. In another moment she had gained command over herself, and, kissing him, she pushed him out of the door.
"There! Go tell her, d.i.c.k... And have some s.p.u.n.k about it!"
Gale went thoughtfully back to his room. He vowed that he would answer for Nell's happiness, if he had the wonderful good fortune to win her.
Then remembering the hope Mrs. Belding had given him, d.i.c.k lost his gravity in a flash, and something began to dance and ring within him.