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

she's jest like her mother. An' Nell Auchincloss—what a girl she was!”

Dale felt his face grow red. Indeed, this was strange conversation for him.

“Honest, Al—” he began.

“Son, don't lie to an old man.”

“Lie! I wouldn't lie to any one. Al, it's only men who live in towns an' are always makin' deals. I live in the forest, where there's nothin' to make me lie.”

“Wal, no offense meant, I'm sure,” responded Auchincloss. “An' mebbe there's somethin' in what you say... We was talkin' about them sheep your big cat killed. Wal, Milt, I can't prove it, that's sure. An' mebbe you'll think me doddery when I tell you my reason. It wasn't what them greaser herders said about seein' a cougar in the herd.”

“What was it, then?” queried Dale, much interested.

“Wal, thet day a year ago I seen your pet. He was lyin' in front of the store an' you was inside tradin', fer supplies, I reckon. It was like meetin' an enemy face to face. Because, damn me if I didn't know that cougar was guilty when he looked in my eyes! There!”

The old rancher expected to be laughed at. But Dale was grave.

“Al, I know how you felt,” he replied, as if they were discussing an action of a human being. “Sure I'd hate to doubt old Tom. But he's a cougar. An' the ways of animals are strange... Anyway, Al, I'll make good the loss of your sheep.”

“No, you won't,” rejoined Auchincloss, quickly. “We'll call it off. I'm takin' it square of you to make the offer. Thet's enough. So forget your worry about work, if you had any.”

“There's somethin' else, Al, I wanted to say,” began Dale, with hesitation. “An' it's about Beasley.”

Auchincloss started violently, and a flame of red shot into his face. Then he raised a big hand that shook. Dale saw in a flash how the old man's nerves had gone.

“Don't mention—thet—thet greaser—to me!” burst out the rancher. “It makes me see—red.... Dale, I ain't overlookin' that you spoke up fer me to-day—stood fer my side. Lem Harden told me. I was glad. An' thet's why—to-day—I forgot our old quarrel.... But not a word about thet sheep-thief—or I'll drive you off the place!”

“But, Al—be reasonable,” remonstrated Dale. “It's necessary thet I speak of—of Beasley.”

“It ain't. Not to me. I won't listen.”

“Reckon you'll have to, Al,” returned Dale. “Beasley's after your property. He's made a deal—”

“By Heaven! I know that!” shouted Auchincloss, tottering up, with his face now black-red. “Do you think thet's new to me? Shut up, Dale! I can't stand it.”

“But Al—there's worse,” went on Dale, hurriedly. “Worse! Your life's threatened—an' your niece, Helen—she's to be—”

“Shut up—an' clear out!” roared Auchincloss, waving his huge fists.

He seemed on the verge of a collapse as, shaking all over, he backed into the door. A few seconds of rage had transformed him into a pitiful old man.

“But, Al—I'm your friend—” began Dale, appealingly.

“Friend, hey?” returned the rancher, with grim, bitter passion. “Then you're the only one.... Milt Dale, I'm rich an' I'm a dyin' man. I trust nobody... But, you wild hunter—if you're my friend—prove it!... Go kill thet greaser sheep-thief! DO somethin'—an' then come talk to me!”

With that he lurched, half falling, into the house, and slammed the door.

Dale stood there for a blank moment, and then, taking up his rifle, he strode away.

Toward sunset Dale located the camp of his four Mormon friends, and reached it in time for supper.

John, Roy, Joe, and Hal Beeman were sons of a pioneer Mormon who had settled the little community of Snowdrop. They were young men in years, but hard labor and hard life in the open had made them look matured. Only a year's difference in age stood between John and Roy, and between Roy and Joe, and likewise Joe and Hal. When it came to appearance they were difficult to distinguish from one another. Horsemen, sheep-herders, cattle-raisers, hunters—they all possessed long, wiry, powerful frames, lean, bronzed, still faces, and the quiet, keen eyes of men used to the open.

Their camp was situated beside a spring in a cove surrounded by aspens, some three miles from Pine; and, though working for Beasley, near the village, they had ridden to and fro from camp, after the habit of seclusion peculiar to their kind.

Dale and the brothers had much in common, and a warm regard had sprang up. But their exchange of confidences had wholly concerned things pertaining to the forest. Dale ate supper with them, and talked as usual when he met them, without giving any hint of the purpose forming in his mind. After the meal he helped Joe round up the horses, hobble them for the night, and drive them into a grassy glade among the pines. Later, when the shadows stole through the forest on the cool wind, and the camp-fire glowed comfortably, Dale broached the subject that possessed him.

“An' so you're working for Beasley?” he queried, by way of starting conversation.

“We was,” drawled John. “But to-day, bein' the end of our month, we got our pay an' quit. Beasley sure was sore.”

“Why'd you knock off?”

John essayed no reply, and his brothers all had that quiet, suppressed look of knowledge under restraint.

“Listen to what I come to tell you, then you'll talk,” went on Dale. And hurriedly he told of Beasley's plot to abduct Al Auchincloss's niece and claim the dying man's property.

When Dale ended, rather breathlessly, the Mormon boys sat without any show of surprise or feeling. John, the eldest, took up a stick and slowly poked the red embers of the fire, making the white sparks fly.

“Now, Milt, why'd you tell us thet?” he asked, guardedly.

“You're the only friends I've got,” replied Dale. “It didn't seem safe for me to talk down in the village. I thought of you boys right off. I ain't goin' to let Snake Anson get that girl. An' I need help, so I come to you.”

“Beasley's strong around Pine, an' old Al's weakenin'. Beasley will git the property, girl or no girl,” said John.

“Things don't always turn out as they look. But no matter about that. The girl deal is what riled me.... She's to arrive at Magdalena on the sixteenth, an' take stage for Snowdrop.... Now what to do? If she travels on that stage I'll be on it, you bet. But she oughtn't to be in it at all. ... Boys, somehow I'm goin' to save her. Will you help me? I reckon I've been in some tight corners for you. Sure, this 's different. But are you my friends?