The "Wild West" Collection. William MacLeod Raine

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Mr. Flatray," she told him in a manner of icy precision.

      The deputy began the climb too. "What's the use of being so hostile, little girl?" he drawled. "Me, I came as soon as I could, burning the wind, too."

      She set her teeth, determined to reach the top in time to get away before he could join her. In her eagerness she took a chance that proved her undoing. A rock gave beneath her foot and clattered down. Clinging by one hand and foot, she felt her body swing around. From her throat a little cry leaped. She knew herself slipping.

      "Jack!"

      In time, and just in time, he reached her, braced himself, and gave her his knee for a foot rest.

      "All right?" he asked, and "All right!" she answered promptly.

      "We'll go back," he told her.

      She made no protest. Indeed, she displayed a caution in lowering herself that surprised him. Every foothold she tested carefully with her weight. Once she asked him to place her shoe in the crevice for her. He had never seen her take so much time in making sure or be so fussy about her personal safety.

      Safely on the ledge again, she attempted a second time to dismiss him. "Thank you, Mr. Flatray. I won't take any more of your time."

      He looked at her steadily before he spoke. "You're mighty high-heeled, 'Lissie. You know my name ain't Mr. Flatray to you. What's it all about? I've told you twice I couldn't get here any sooner."

      She flamed out at him in an upblaze of feminine ferocity. "And I tell _you_, that I don't care if you had never come. I don't want to see you or have anything to do with you."

      "Why not?" He asked it quietly, though he began to know that her charge against him was a serious one.

      "Because I know what you are now, because you have made us believe in you while all the time you were living a lie."

      "Meaning what?"

      "I was gathering poppies on the other side of Antelope Pass this afternoon."

      "What has that got to do with me being a liar and a scoundrel," he wanted to know.

      "Oh, you pretend," she scoffed. "But you know as well as I do."

      "I'm afraid I don't. Let's have the indictment."

      "If everybody in Papago County had told me I wouldn't have believed it," she cried. "I had to see it with my own eyes before I could have been convinced."

      "Yes, well what is it you saw with your eyes?"

      "You needn't keep it up. I tell you I saw it all from the time you fired the shot."

      He laughed easily, but without mirth. "Kept tab on me, did you?"

      She wheeled from him, gave a catch of her breath, and caught at the rock wall to save herself from falling.

      He spoke sharply. "You hurt yourself in the trough."

      "I sprained my ankle a little, but it doesn't matter."

      He understood now why she had made so slow a descent and he suspected that the wrench was more than she admitted. The moon had come out from under a cloud and showed him a pale, tear-stained face, with a row of even, little teeth set firm against the lower lip. She was in pain and her pride was keeping it from him.

      "Let me look at your ankle."

      "No."

      "I say yes. You've hurt it seriously."

      "That is my business, I think," she told him with cold finality.

      "I'm going to make it mine. Think I don't know you, proud as Lucifer when you get set. You'll lame yourself for life if you're not careful."

      "I don't care to discuss it."

      "Fiddlesticks! If you've got anything against me we'll hear what it is afterward. Right now we'll give first aid to the injured. Sit down here."

      She had not meant to give way, but she did. Perhaps it was because of the faintness that stole over her, or because the pain was sharper than she could well endure. She found herself seated on the rock shelf, letting him cut the lace out of her shoe and slip it off. Ever so gently he worked, but he could tell by the catches of her breath that it was not pleasant to endure. From his neck he untied the silk kerchief and wrapped it tightly around the ankle.

      "That will have to do till I get you home."

      "I'll not trouble you, sir. If you'll stop and tell my father that is all I'll ask."

      "Different here," he retorted cheerfully. "Just so as to avoid any argument, I'll announce right now that Jack Flatray is going to see you home. It's his say-so."

      She rose. None knew better than she that he was a dominating man when he chose to be. She herself carried in her slim body a spirit capable of passion and of obstinacy, but to-night she had not the will to force the fighting.

      Setting her teeth, she took a step or two forward, her hand against the rock wall to help bear the weight. With narrowed eyes, he watched her closely, noting the catches of pain that shot through her breathing. Half way up the boulder bed he interposed brusquely.

      "This is plumb foolishness, girl. You've got no business putting your weight on that foot, and you're not going to do it."

      He slipped his arm around her waist in such a way as to support her all he could. With a quick turn of the body she tried to escape.

      "No use. I'm going through with this, 'Lissie. Someone has been lying to you about me, and just now you hate the ground I walk on. Good enough. That's got nothing to do with this. You're a woman that needs help, and any old time J. F. meets up with such a one he's on the job. You don't owe me 'Thank you,' but you've got to stand for me till you reach the house."

      "You're taking advantage of me because I can't help myself. Why don't you go and bring father," she flung out.

      "I'm younger than your father and abler to help. That's why?"

      They reached the top of the bluff and he made her sit down to rest. A pale moon suffused the country, and in that stage set to lowered lights her pallor was accented. From the colorless face shadowy, troubled eyes spoke the misery through which she was passing. The man divined that her pain was more than physical, and the knowledge went to him poignantly by the heart route.

      "What is it, 'Lissie? What have I done?" he asked gently.

      "You know. I don't want to talk about it."

      "But I don't know."

      "What's the use of keeping it up? I caught you this afternoon."

      "Caught me doing what?"

      "Caught you rustling, caught you branding a calf just after you had shot the cow."

      For an instant her charge struck him dumb. He stared at her as if he thought she had gone suddenly mad.

      "What's that? Say it again," he got out at last.

      "And СКАЧАТЬ