The Man of the Forest by Zane Grey (read me like a book txt) 📗

in the distance with vague buttes rising. The air was full of sound—notes of blackbirds and the baas of sheep, and blasts from the corrals, and the clatter of light hoofs on the court below.

Bo was riding in from the stables. Helen loved to watch her on one of those fiery little mustangs, but the sight was likewise given to rousing apprehensions. This morning Bo appeared particularly bent on frightening Helen. Down the lane Carmichael appeared, waving his arms, and Helen at once connected him with Bo's manifest desire to fly away from that particular place. Since that day, a month back, when Bo had confessed her love for Carmichael, she and Helen had not spoken of it or of the cowboy. The boy and girl were still at odds. But this did not worry Helen. Bo had changed much for the better, especially in that she devoted herself to Helen and to her work. Helen knew that all would turn out well in the end, and so she had been careful of her rather precarious position between these two young firebrands.

Bo reined in the mustang at the porch steps. She wore a buckskin riding-suit which she had made herself, and its soft gray with the touches of red beads was mightily becoming to her. Then she had grown considerably during the winter and now looked too flashing and pretty to resemble a boy, yet singularly healthy and strong and lithe. Red spots shone in her cheeks and her eyes held that ever-dangerous blaze.

“Nell, did you give me away to that cowboy?” she demanded.

“Give you away!” exclaimed Helen, blankly.

“Yes. You know I told you—awhile back—that I was wildly in love with him. Did you give me away—tell on me?”

She might have been furious, but she certainly was not confused.

“Why, Bo! How could you? No. I did not,” replied Helen.

“Never gave him a hint?”

“Not even a hint. You have my word for that. Why? What's happened?”

“He makes me sick.”

Bo would not say any more, owing to the near approach of the cowboy.

“Mawnin', Miss Nell,” he drawled. “I was just tellin' this here Miss Bo-Peep Rayner—”

“Don't call me that!” broke in Bo, with fire in her voice.

“Wal, I was just tellin' her thet she wasn't goin' off on any more of them long rides. Honest now, Miss Nell, it ain't safe, an'—”

“You're not my boss,” retorted Bo.

“Indeed, sister, I agree with him. You won't obey me.”

“Reckon some one's got to be your boss,” drawled Carmichael. “Shore I ain't hankerin' for the job. You could ride to Kingdom Come or off among the Apaches—or over here a ways”—at this he grinned knowingly—“or anywheres, for all I cared. But I'm workin' for Miss Nell, an' she's boss. An' if she says you're not to take them rides—you won't. Savvy that, miss?”

It was a treat for Helen to see Bo look at the cowboy.

“Mis-ter Carmichael, may I ask how you are going to prevent me from riding where I like?”

“Wal, if you're goin' worse locoed this way I'll keep you off'n a hoss if I have to rope you an' tie you up. By golly, I will!”

His dry humor was gone and manifestly he meant what he said.

“Wal,” she drawled it very softly and sweetly, but venomously, “if—you—ever—touch—me again!”

At this he flushed, then made a quick, passionate gesture with his hand, expressive of heat and shame.

“You an' me will never get along,” he said, with a dignity full of pathos. “I seen thet a month back when you changed sudden-like to me. But nothin' I say to you has any reckonin' of mine. I'm talkin' for your sister. It's for her sake. An' your own.... I never told her an' I never told you thet I've seen Riggs sneakin' after you twice on them desert rides. Wal, I tell you now.”

The intelligence apparently had not the slightest effect on Bo. But Helen was astonished and alarmed.

“Riggs! Oh, Bo, I've seen him myself—riding around. He does not mean well. You must be careful.”

“If I ketch him again,” went on Carmichael, with his mouth lining hard, “I'm goin' after him.”

He gave her a cool, intent, piercing look, then he dropped his head and turned away, to stride back toward the corrals.

Helen could make little of the manner in which her sister watched the cowboy pass out of sight.

“A month back—when I changed sudden-like,” mused Bo. “I wonder what he meant by that.... Nell, did I change—right after the talk you had with me—about him?”

“Indeed you did, Bo,” replied Helen. “But it was for the better. Only he can't see it. How proud and sensitive he is! You wouldn't guess it at first. Bo, your reserve has wounded him more than your flirting. He thinks it's indifference.”

“Maybe that 'll be good for him,” declared Bo. “Does he expect me to fall on his neck? He's that thick-headed! Why, he's the locoed one, not me.”

“I'd like to ask you, Bo, if you've seen how he has changed?” queried Helen, earnestly. “He's older. He's worried. Either his heart is breaking for you or else he fears trouble for us. I fear it's both. How he watches you! Bo, he knows all you do—where you go. That about Riggs sickens me.”

“If Riggs follows me and tries any of his four-flush desperado games he'll have his hands full,” said Bo, grimly. “And that without my cowboy protector! But I just wish Riggs would do something. Then we'll see what Las Vegas Tom Carmichael cares. Then we'll see!”

Bo bit out the last words passionately and jealously, then she lifted her bridle to the spirited mustang.

“Nell, don't you fear for me,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”

Helen watched her ride away, all but willing to confess that there might be truth in what Bo said. Then Helen went about her work, which consisted of routine duties as well as an earnest study to familiarize herself with continually new and complex conditions of ranch life. Every day brought new problems. She made notes of all that she observed, and all that was told her, which habit she had found, after a few weeks of trial, was going to be exceedingly valuable to her. She did not intend always to be dependent upon the knowledge of hired men, however faithful some of them might be.

This morning on her rounds she had expected developments of some kind, owing to the presence of Roy Beeman and two of his brothers, who had arrived yesterday. And she was to discover that Jeff Mulvey, accompanied by six of his co-workers and associates, had deserted her without a word or even sending for their pay. Carmichael had predicted this. Helen had