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  CHAPTER IV

  THE GATHERING STORM

  On the north bank of the river, from which it derived its name, the townof Crawling Water lay sprawled out in the shape of an irregular horn.Its original settlers had been men of large ideas, and having had plentyof space at their disposal, they had used it lavishly. The streets,bordered by dusty, weather-beaten, frame buildings, were as wide asthose of a large city; indeed, in area, the town could compete with manya metropolis; but there the resemblance ended. Crawling Water was notfated to become a big city. The fact that the nearest railroad point wasat Sheridan, forty miles away, did away with any ambitions that CrawlingWater might have had to be more than a neighborhood center.

  The mixed population was composed of cattlemen, sheep men, cow punchersand herders, with a sprinkling of gamblers and other riff-raff. Rough,uncouth, full-blooded men, they were, for the most part; hard working;decisive in their likes and dislikes; fearing neither God nor man, theymet Life as they found it and faced Death with a laugh. They were thelast of a fast disappearing type, picturesque, but lacking in many ofthe attributes which differentiate mankind from the beasts.

  Hardly more than a village, Crawling Water was yet a town, and the seatof such machinery of government as had been established, andaccordingly, Gordon Wade had ridden directly thither after his far fromsatisfactory interview with Oscar Jensen. After he had stabled his horseand seen it fed, he started up the street in the direction of Moran'soffice. He was resolved to find out where the agent stood on the sheepquestion without any unnecessary delay. Save for a few dogs, sleeping inthe blaze of the noon-day sun, which hung overhead like a ball of fire,the town seemed deserted.

  When Wade entered the office, Moran was seated at his desk, chewing on acigar, above which his closely cropped reddish mustache bristled. LikeSenator Rexhill, he was a man of girth and bulk, but his ape-like bodywas endowed with a strength which not even his gross life had been ableto wreck, and he was always muscularly fit. Except for the miner's hipboots, which he wore, he was rather handsomely dressed, and would havebeen called tastefully so in the betting ring of a metropolitanrace-track, where his diamond scarf-pin and ring would have beenadmired.

  "Hello!" he boomed as Wade entered. "Have a cigar." He pushed a box ofan excellent brand toward his visitor and waved him to a chair. Hisgreeting was noisy rather than cordial.

  Wade declined both the chair and the cigar.

  "I dropped in to find out why you told Jensen to run his sheep in on myrange," he began bluntly.

  "Let me see--" The agent very deliberately lifted a large, white handand took the cigar out of his mouth. "Just what range is that?"

  "The upper valley range which I have under lease."

  "Which you have under lease?" Moran affected sarcastic surprise. "Iwasn't aware that you had any legal right to that part of the valley.It's government land, ain't it?"

  "You seem to have forgotten that you once tried to buy the lease fromme." The rancher bared his teeth in a grim smile. "We'll not quibbleover that, however. We've got our legal rights, all of us; but we're along distance from the courts here. What I want to know in plain Englishis, will you order Jensen to trail those sheep? Now, wait a moment!"

  Moran subsided with a show of tolerance he did not feel.

  "Think well before you answer," Wade went on. "I'm not here to threatenyou, but there are desperate men in this valley who will take mattersinto their own hands, if this business is not stopped. There's plenty ofgrass on the other side of the mountains and your sheep are welcome toit. Why don't you make use of it?"

  "Why should I? The sheep have a right to be where they are and therethey'll stay until I get ready to move 'em. You cattlemen think you ownthis country, but when it comes to the show down, you're a bunch ofbluffers. Now, Wade, I made you an offer once,--I'll admit it, and I'llmake it again for the last time. Sell me your homestead and lease rightsat the price I offered you--ten thousand dollars, and get out smiling.There isn't room for the two of us in the valley."

  "Ten thousand for the homestead and the lease combined!" Wade laughedmirthlessly. "You're crazy, man. Why, you offered me that much for thelease alone a few weeks ago."

  "Did I? I'd forgotten it. Anyway, it's a fair offer. The land is stillowned by Uncle Sam, you know. You haven't proved up on your claims, andyou never will if I can help it. We are spending lots of money here, andthe government will see that our interests are protected. You cattlemencan't hog the whole of Crawling Water Valley. Times have changed. Well,what do you say?"

  The ranchman dismissed the proposition with a gesture, but did notimmediately speak. Silently, the two big men faced each other, theirglances crossing like rapiers: the cattleman like a statue in bronze inthe fixed rigidity of his attitude, but with an expression that showedhim one dangerous to trifle with; the agent affecting that half tolerantamusement which one may feel toward an enemy unworthy of one's prowess.Wade presently broke the silence.

  "Moran, you may be a big man in the East, but you're not big enough forthe job you've tackled here. I've held my friends back as long as Ican--longer than I thought I could--and when they break loose, thisvalley will be a little hell, perhaps a shambles. Men are going to bekilled, and I have a feeling that you are going to be one of them.Against that time, once more, I warn you. Tell Jensen to trail hissheep!"

  Swinging on his heel, the ranchman left the office, paying no attentionto the ironical "Good night," which Moran called after him.

  In the street, Wade chanced upon a neighboring cattle owner, LemTrowbridge of the Circle Heart outfit, who fell into step with him.

  "Gordon, how long are we going to stand for this thing, eh? Say, do youknow what some are saying about you? Now, I'm your friend, and I'mtelling you straight that you've gone far enough with this pacifiststuff."

  "They say I'm afraid, I suppose?" Wade stopped and faced Trowbridge."Have they said that to you?"

  "To me? Say, what the ---- kind of a friend do you take me for?"Trowbridge flamed up like a match. "No, they haven't said just that,Gordon; but they're hinting, and I don't like it."

  "Well, if you hear it direct, send the man on to me with it," said Wade,his lips compressing ominously. "I'm about through, Lem, not quite, butpretty nearly. I've told Moran to have Jensen trail those sheep, and ifhe doesn't...."

  Trowbridge nodded and smiled, as they paused at a street corner--one ofthe few that Crawling Water possessed.

  "That's the idea, Gordon. We'll all be the readier for the waiting.Well, I'll not go any farther with you." He winked with elaborateprecision and looked in the direction of a snug little cottage, withflower boxes in the windows, a biscuit toss away. "She's home. I saw herleave the store yonder a little while ago."

  Wade blushed like a boy and looked foolish.

  "I don't get into town so very often," he began lamely, when Trowbridgeslapped him heartily on the back.

  "You don't need to make any excuses to me, old man," he said, movingoff. "That little woman has put Crawling Water on edge with admiration.You're not the only one--or, maybe, you are."

  Secretly eager though Wade was to reach the cottage, the nearer heapproached it, the slower he walked, fuming at himself for his suddenspinelessness. Although no ladies' man, he had never been woman waryuntil lately, and this of itself was a sign, the significance of whichhe was far from realizing. When he was with Dorothy Purnell, he almostforgot her sex in the easy companionability of their relationship; whenaway from her, he thought no more of her than he might of some manfriend; but the approach had become a matter of embarrassing difficultywith him. There had even been occasions when he had walked past thecottage and ridden home without seeing her, trying speciously toconvince himself that such had all along been his intention.

  Something of the sort might have happened now had she not hailed himfrom the open doorway.

  "Whither bound, stranger?" she smilingly demanded, in her low, richcontralto. "Better come in where it's cool. Mother'll be glad to seeyou, and I--shan't mind
."

  She had come to Crawling Water for the restorative effect of the bracingmountain air upon the health of her mother, who was threatened withnervous invalidism, following the death of Mr. Purnell, two yearsbefore. The town called them Easterners because their home was as farEast as Michigan, but they had never been city dwellers, as Dorothy'sfresh complexion and lithe, alert figure bore witness.

  Her chestnut hair, piled in a silken crown on her shapely head, shaded aface that made those who saw it for the first time, catch their breathin instant admiration. Her radiance was of a glorious, compelling, andwholly distinct type, as refreshing as some view of green mountains fromout a gloomy canyon. She had eyes, blue in repose, but shading to violettints when aglow with vivacity; her nose was not perfect, because atrifle tip-tilted, but her face gained character through the defect; hervery red lips held most delicious allurement in their slightly fullcurves. Her hands and feet were small enough to pay tribute to her birthand breeding, but not so small as to be doll-like. She wore a simple,white dress, freshly laundered, which made her look cool and inviting.

  "You won't mind? Now that's good of you, and no mistake." Wade shookhands with her, slowly relinquishing her cool palm. "How is Mrs.Purnell? Better?"

  "Oh, yes, I think so. You're better, aren't you, mother?" she asked, asthey entered the cozy little living-room, where the temperature was inpleasant contrast to the outer heat. "The air up here does you good,doesn't it?"

  Mrs. Purnell, a dispirited little person, admitted that she felt verywell indeed, and seemed cheered at the sight of Wade, who greeted herdeferentially but with easy geniality. She liked him for hiswholesomeness, and she frequently declared that he was worth all thedoctors in the country because of the impression of health and optimismwhich he bore with him. But she was aware that Dorothy liked him, too,and so presently made an excuse to leave the two young people together.

  "Now, you may tell me all about what's worrying you," the girl said,seating herself across from Wade. "Something is. You can't keep thesigns from me."

  "Good girl!" His voice held a suggestion of tenderness, as he rolled andlighted a cigarette, in the home-like privilege which they allowed himthere. "That's your way, always. No matter who's in trouble, you areready to hasten to the rescue."

  "Oh--," she deprecatingly began, with a trace of violet showing in hereyes, which meant a great deal more than words.

  "No wonder every man in the valley considers himself your own, especialknight."

  "I thought perhaps I could help you," she said briskly, to cover hersentimental moment. "But that was foolish of me, too, wasn't it? Theidea of any one helping _you_."

  "I'm likely to need all my friends soon, Dorothy," Wade answeredsoberly. "I came in to-day to see Race Moran. There's a big band ofsheep on our upper range, and Jensen, who has charge of them, admittedto me this morning that Moran is behind him."

  "Goodness, more sheep! Wherever do they come from?"

  "I don't know where they come from, but they can't stay where they areunless I go out of business, that's certain." In a few words, heexplained to her the significance of the movement, and told her of histalk with Moran. "I've no use for the man," he concluded, "and if itcomes to a showdown between us, he need expect no sympathy. I've heldback as long as I can. I understand better than he does what the crackof the first rifle will lead to."

  "You have not liked him since you found that he took that snapshot ofme," she said whimsically. "I didn't mind, but I can't imagine what hewanted it for."

  Wade's face darkened.

  "It was a confounded impertinence, whatever he wanted with it. But mydislike of him goes farther back than that."

  "What are you going to do?" she asked, resting her chin in her hand, andlooking him straight in the eyes, as she always did to those with whomshe talked.

  "It largely depends on him. Santry--you know how hot-headed he is--wouldrun the herders away by force and kill off the sheep. As a last resort,of course, we may have to do something like that, but I want to win thisfight without open violence if we can. A faction war, in the end, wouldbe likely to ruin us all."

  "You must be careful," the girl declared earnestly. "Moran is not goingto be an easy man to handle. He seems to have plenty of money, and theysay here in town that he stands in with the government; that he has somesort of 'pull.' He's clever, I think. He'll trick you if he can."

  "I'm sure of that, Dorothy, but we're not going to let him. If only...!Say, do you know something else that is being said in this town?Something that they're saying about me?"

  "Something nice?" her tone was archly inquiring.

  He leaned forward and lightly rested his hand on her knee, just as hemight have done with a man friend, and she took as little notice of it.His fingers were trembling a little under the stress of the emotion hefelt.

  "They're saying, those who don't like me, I guess, that I'm afraid ofMoran and his crowd; afraid of a lot of sheep herders. No, of course, myfriends don't believe it," he hastened to add when she started tointerrupt. "But it's not doing me any good, especially now that publicfeeling is running so high."

  "But you mustn't mind what they say, Gordon. That's part of the courageyour friends know that you have; to do what you feel to be right, nomatter what is said."

  Her cheeks were glowing with indignation, and he appreciatively pattedher hand before sitting erect in his chair again. It was no wonder, hereflected, in that almost womanless land, that many a cowpuncher rodethe range by night, seeing her image in every star. The thought thateach single man, and many a married one, in Crawling Water, would rideinto the Pit itself to win one of her smiles, had been Wade's comfort,even when he was thinking of the possibility of bloodshed between thetwo hostile factions. But now, in the moment of her sympathy for him, hefelt that he could not be content without some further assurance of hersafety.

  "What you say sounds well, Dorothy, but my pride's working on me, too,now. I can't help it. If my friends, who have been good enough to acceptmy leadership so far, should lose their heads and go to it without me, Imight talk afterward until Kingdom come. I'd never convince anybody thatI hadn't funked the thing. You spoke a few minutes ago of helping me.You can help me a great deal."

  Her lovely face instantly blazed with eagerness.

  "Can I? How?"

  "By promising me that, if it comes to a fight, you and your mother willcome out to my ranch. You'd be safer there. That is, of course, unlessyou'd prefer to leave Crawling Water altogether."

  "Indeed, I shouldn't prefer to leave Crawling Water at this stage of thegame, and"--she smiled reassuringly--"I'm sure we should be safe enoughright here whatever happened. But, if you'd feel better about it, wewould go to the ranch."

  "Thanks. I feel better about it already, more free to show my hand. Youare safe enough here now, of course, and might be clear through to thefinish; but cheap whiskey has led many a fairly good man astray."

  "If only there were some peaceable way out of it all." Her eyes becameanxious as she thought of what he might have to face. "Can't youtelegraph to Washington, or something?"

  "Washington doesn't know whether Crawling Water is in the United Statesor in Timbuctoo," Wade laughed. "If we had some one in authority righthere on the ground we might make him understand, but Mahomet will nevercome to these mountains, and they can't go to Mahomet. Why, what's thematter?"

  His question was prompted by the sudden elation with which she hadclapped her hands and sprung to her feet.

  "How stupid of me, Gordon, to have forgotten." She stood over him withshining eyes and eager countenance, as lovely as a Lorelei. "There is anofficial of the United States Government here at this very moment."

  "Here? In Crawling Water?" he exclaimed in amazement. "Who is he?"

  "Senator Rexhill, Gordon." Wade stared almost vacuously at her as sheran on with her news. "He came in with his daughter last night on theSheridan stage. Isn't that glorious? You must go up to see him at once."

  "I will, of course," Wade
said slowly, trying to catch his mentalbalance. "And with pleasure, too. It's been a long time since I last saweither of them."

  "You know them--him?" Dorothy hesitated a little over which pronoun touse, with the somewhat disturbing reflection that Helen Rexhill was amost beautiful and distinguished looking girl. "That will make it allthe easier," she added generously.

  "Of course, Senator Rexhill has no authority of his own in such amatter, you know; but if we can get him interested, he may wake upWashington in our behalf. Only, I don't see what can have brought him toCrawling Water."

  "Do you--do you know the daughter well?" Dorothy asked, with femininecogency. "I suppose you met her back East?"

  "We've known each other for a number of years." He arose, his faceexpressive of the delight he felt at the Rexhills' presence in town. "Weused to be good friends. You'll like her. But it's strange they didn'ttell me of their coming. You'll pardon me if I hurry over to the hotel,won't you, Dorothy?"

  She gently urged him out of the house.

  "Of course! Don't waste a moment, and let me know just as soon as youcan what the outcome is. I do hope the Senator can settle all thistrouble."

  "I want you to meet them right away," he called, over his shoulder, andwhen he looked back for his answer, she nodded brightly.

  But as she turned back into the cottage after watching him swing up thestreet she was not at all sure that she would like Helen Rexhill.