The Range Boss - Charles Alden Seltzer (best life changing books txt) š
- Author: Charles Alden Seltzer
- Performer: -
Book online Ā«The Range Boss - Charles Alden Seltzer (best life changing books txt) šĀ». Author Charles Alden Seltzer
āArenāt you glad?ā Ruth asked Aunt Martha when they were alone, for she had noted her relativeās lack of enthusiasm.
āWhy, yes, honey,ā Aunt Martha smiled at her, though it seemed forced. āOnlyāā She hesitated eloquently.
āOnly what, Aunt Martha?ā Ruthās voice was a little sharp, as with all persons who act in opposition to her better judgment and who resent anyone understanding them.
āOnly I was hoping it would be Randerson, my dear,ā said Aunt Martha gently.
āRanderson!ā Ruthās voice was scornful. But it sounded insincere to her, and she would trust it no further.
āHoney!ā Aunt Marthaās arm was around her, and Aunt Marthaās sympathetic and knowing eyes were compelling hers; and her voice was ineffably gentle. āAre you sure, honey, that you donāt wish it were Randerson? It is a great event in your life, dear, and once it is done, it canāt be undone. Donāt be hasty.ā
āIt can never be Randerson,ā Ruth said firmlyānot, however, as firmly as she had intended. āRanderson is a murdererāa reckless taker of human life!ā
āHe had to shoot, they say,ā defended Aunt Martha. āI donāt believe he would harm a living thing except in defense of his own life. Defending themselves is their way out here, girlāthey know no other way. And he is a man, dear. I donāt know when I have met a man who has impressed me more!ā
āPlease donāt talk about it any more.ā Ruthās face was pale, her brows contracted, for Aunt Marthaās reference to Randerson had brought back haunting sensations that, she thought, she had succeeded in putting out of her life. She was ready to cry, and when she thought of Randersonāhow calmly he had accepted his dismissal, with what manliness he had borne her insults, a chill of sympathy ran over her. She believed she would never forget him as he had looked on the night he had ridden away after telling her that he would leave the Flying Wāriding into the darkness of the plains, with his hopes blasted, bravely making no complaint.
She got her pony, after a while, and rode far and long, coming in to the ranchhouse about noon. After she had turned the pony into the corral and was coming toward the house, she saw Uncle Jepson sitting on the porch, puffing furiously at his pipe. She spoke to him in greeting, and was about to pass him to go into the house, when he called to her:
āI want to talk to you a minute, Ruth.ā He spoke rapidly, his voice dry and light, and she could see his facial muscles twitching. Wonderingly, she sank into a chair near him.
āYouāre sure thinkinā of marryinā Masten, girl?ā he said.
āYes,ā she declared firmly.
āWell, then Iāve got to tell you,ā said Uncle Jepson decisively. āIāve been puttinā it off, hopinā that youād get shet of that imp of Satan, anā I wouldnāt have to say anything.ā
āUncle Jep!ā she protested indignantly.
āThatās just what he is, Ruthāa durned imp of the devil. Iāve knowed it from the first day I saw him. Since heās come out here, heās proved it.ā He swung his chair around and faced her, and forgetting his pipe in his excitement, he told her the story he had told Randerson: how he had gone into the messhouse on the day of the killing of Pickett, for a rest and a smoke, and how, while in there he had overheard Chavis and Pickett plotting against Randerson, planning Pickettās attack on her, mentioning Mastenās connection with the scheme. She did not open her lips until Uncle Jepson had concluded, and then she murmured a low āOh!ā and sat rigid, gripping the arms of her chair.
āAnā that aināt all, it aināt half of it!ā pursued Uncle Jepson vindictively. āDo you know that Masten set that Watt Kelso, the gunfighter, on Randerson?ā He looked at Ruth, saw her start and draw a long breath, and he grinned triumphantly. āCourse you donāt know; I calālate Randerson would never make a peep about it. Heās all manāthat feller. But itās a fact. Blair told me. Thereād been bad blood between Randerson anā Kelso, anā Masten took advantage of it. He paid Kelso five hundred dollars in cold cash to kill Randerson!ā
āOh, it canāt be!ā moaned the girl, covering her face with her hands and shrinking into her chair.
āShucks!ā said Uncle Jepson derisively, but more gently now, for he saw that the girl was badly hurt. āThe whole country is talkinā about it, Ruth, anā wonderinā why Randerson donāt salivate that durned dude! Anā the country expects him to do it, girl! Theyāll fun him out of here, if he donāt! Why, girl,ā he went on, āyou donāt know how much of a sneak a man can be when heās got it in him!ā
She was shuddering as though he had struck her, and he was on the edge of his chair, looking at her pityingly, when Aunt Martha came to the door and saw them. She was out on the porch instantly, flushing with indignation.
āJep Coakley, youāre up to your tricks again, aināt you? You quit devilinā that girl, now, anā go on about your business!ā
āIāve got some things to say, anā I calālate to say them!ā declared Uncle Jepson determinedly. āIāve kept still about it long enough. I aināt wantinā to hurt her,ā he added apologetically, as Aunt Martha slipped to her knees beside Ruth and put an arm around her, ābut that durned Masten has been doinā some things that sheās got to know about, right now. Anā then, if sheās set on marryinā him, why, I calālate itās her business. It was Masten who was behind Pickett kissinā herāhe tellinā Pickett to do it. Anā he hired Kelso to kill Randerson.ā
āOh, Ruth!ā said Aunt Martha, her voice shaky, as she nestled her head close to the girlās. But her eyes shone with satisfaction.
āThereās another thing,ā went on Uncle Jepson to Ruth. āDid you notice Randersonās face, the night he come to hunt you, when you hurt your ankle? Marked up, kind of, it was, wasnāt it? Anā do you know what Masten went to Las Vegas for? Business, shucks! He went there to get his face nursed up, Ruthābecause Randerson had smashed it for him! Theyād had a fight; I saw them, both cominā from the same direction, that night. I reckon Randerson had pretty nigh killed him. What for?ā he asked as Ruth turned wide, questioning eyes on him. āWell, I donāt rightly know. But Iāve got suspicions. Iāve seen Masten goinā day after day through that break in the canyon over there. A hundred times, I calālate. Anā Iāve seen him here, when you wasnāt lookinā, kissinā that Catherson girl. I calālate, if you was to ask her, sheād be able to tell you a heap more about Masten, Ruth.ā
Ruth got up, pale and terribly calm, disengaging herself from Aunt Martha and standing before Uncle Jepson. He too got to his feet.
Ruthās voice quavered. āYou wouldnāt, oh, you couldnāt lie to me, Uncle, because you like Rex Randerson? Is it true?ā She put her hands on his shoulders and shook him, excitedly.
āTrue? Why, Ruth, girl; itās as true as thereās a Supreme Beinā above us. Whyāāā
But she waited to hear no more, turning from him and putting out her hands to keep Aunt Martha away as she passed her. She went out to the corral, got her pony, saddled it, mounted, and rode over the plains toward the break in the canyon wall. Uncle Jepson had one quick glimpse of her eyes as she turned from him, and he knew there would be no Monday for Willard Masten.
Ruth had no feelings as she rode. The news had stunned her. She had only one thoughtāto see Hagar Catherson, to confirm or disprove Uncle Jepsonās story. She could not have told whether the sun was shining, or whether it was afternoon or morning. But she must see Hagar Catherson at once, no matter what the time or the difficulties. She came to the break in the canyon after an age, and rode through it, down across the bed of the river, over the narrow bridle path that led to the Catherson cabin.
The dog Nig did not greet her this time; he was stretched out on his belly, his hind legs gathered under him, his forelegs stuck out in front, his long muzzle extending along them, while he watched in apparent anxiety the face of his master, Abe Catherson, who was sitting on the edge of the porch, his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands, in an attitude of deep dejection. The dogās concern was for Cathersonās future actions, for just a few minutes before he had witnessed a scene that had made his hair bristle, had brought ugly growls out of him, had plunged him into such a state of fury that he had, for one wild instant, meditated a leap at his masterās throat. He had seen his master leap upon his mistress and raise his hand to strike her. If the blow had been struckāNig would have leaped, then, no matter what the consequences.
Catherson had not struck. But one great, dominating passion was in his mind at this momentāthe yearning to slay! The dog had seen him, twice during the last half hour, draw out his heavy six-shooter and examine it, and each time the dog had growled his disapproval of the action. And on both occasions Catherson had muttered thickly: āI wish I knowed, for sure. A man canāt do nothinā if he donāt know. But I reckon it was him!ā
He looked up to see Ruth coming toward him. The girl had seen him twiceāhad spoken to him. He was a bearded giant, grizzled, unkempt, with hairy arms, massive and muscled superbly, and great hands, burned brown by the sun, that were just now clenched, forming two big fists. There had been a humorous, tolerant twinkle in his eyes on the other occasions that Ruth had seen him; it was as though he secretly sympathized with her efforts to do something for his girl, though he would not openly approve. But now she saw that his eyes were blazing with an insane frenzy, that his lips were working, and that the muscles of his neck stood out like great cords, strained to the bursting point.
He got up when he saw Ruth, and stood on the sand at the edge of the porch, swaying back and forth, and Ruthās first thought was that he had been drinking. But his first words to her revealed her mistake. It was the light, dry voice of a violent passion that greeted her, a passion that was almost too great for words. He ran to her pony and seized it by the bridle:
āYou know, maāam. Tell me who treated my liāl gal like that?ā His great hands writhed in the reins. āIāll twist his buzzardās head off his shoulders.ā
āWhat do you mean?ā Ruthās own voice startled her, for the spirit of a lie had issued from her mouth; she knew what he meant; she realized that Uncle Jepson had told the truth.
āDonāt you know, maāam?ā There was wild derision in his voice, insane mirth. āYouāve been cominā here; sheās been goinā to your place! Anā you donāt know! Youāre blinder than meāanā I couldnāt see at all!ā He
Comments (0)