Classic Audiobook Collection - Lonesome Land by B. M. Bower ~ Full Audiobook [adventure]

Episode Date: October 27, 2022

Lonesome Land by B. M. Bower audiobook. Genre: adventure Val had come to Montana to marry a cowboy named Manley, envisioning a life of wedded bliss, freedom, and was anticipating happiness in her adopted part of the country. She would soon learn that the winters could be cruel and lonesome for a woman living on a ranch which was situated miles from the nearest neighbor. She would learn that her husband spent most of his time drinking. And she would learn that everybody has their own methods of dealing with the harshness and loneliness of the land she has come to call home. Val is determined to re-invent her notions about men and women, her new duties in life, and life as it existed in the relatively new West. At every turn, her will and her strength are tested. Would she find the strength within herself to overcome the hardships, or would she succumb to the reality of her surroundings? For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:25:26) Chapter 02 (00:48:58) Chapter 03 (01:06:35) Chapter 04 (01:32:40) Chapter 05 (01:55:04) Chapter 06 (02:17:27) Chapter 07 (02:39:30) Chapter 08 (03:03:53) Chapter 09 (03:30:28) Chapter 10 (03:57:29) Chapter 11 (04:21:11) Chapter 12 (04:44:59) Chapter 13 (05:14:56) Chapter 14 (05:28:16) Chapter 15 (05:58:20) Chapter 16 (06:06:51) Chapter 17 (06:24:53) Chapter 18 (06:43:38) Chapter 19 (07:16:02) Chapter 20 (07:24:09) Chapter 21 (07:42:00) Chapter 22 (08:04:52) Chapter 23 (08:27:23) Chapter 24 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

chapter one of lonesome land by b m b bower chapter one the arrival of val in northern montana there lies a great lonely stretch of prairie land gashed deep where flows the missouri indeed there are many such big impassive impressive in their very loneliness in summer given over to the winds and the meadow larks and to the shadows fleeing always over the hill-tops wild range cattle feed there and grow sleek and fat for the fall shipping of beef at night the coyotes yap quaveringly and prowl abroad after the long-eared jack-rabbits which bounce away at the way at their hunger-driven approach. In winter, it is not good to be there. Even the beasts shrink then from the bleak, level reaches, and shun the still bleaker heights. But men will live anywhere,

if by doing so there is money to be gained, and so a town snuggled up against the northern rim of the benchland, where the bleakness was softened a bit by the sheltering hills, and a willow-figured creek with wild rose-bushes, and choke cherries made a vivid green background for the meager huddle of little unpainted buildings. To the passengers on the through trains which watered at the red tank near the creek, the place looked crudely picturesque. Interesting, so long as one was not compelled to live there, and could retain a perfectly impersonal viewpoint,

after five or ten minutes spent watching curiously the one little street with the long hitching poles planted firmly and frequently down both sides usually within a very few feet of a saloon door and the horses nodding and stamping at the flies and the loitering figures that appeared now and then in desultory fashion many of them imagined that they understood the west and sympathized with it and appreciated its bignessing and its freedom from conventions. One slim young woman had just told the thin-faced school teacher on a vacation, with whom she had formed one of those evanescent traveling acquaintances, that she already knew the West, from instinct and from Manley's letters. She loved it, she said, because Manley loved it, and because it was to be her home,

and because it was so big and so free. Out here one could think and grow and really live, she declared, with enthusiasm. Manly had lived here for three years, and his letters, she told the thin-faced teacher, were an education in themselves. The teacher had already learned that the slim young woman with the yellow-brown hair and yellow-brown eyes to match was going to marry Manley. She had forgotten his other name. though the young woman had mentioned it, and would live on a ranch, a cattle ranch.

She smiled with somewhat wistful sympathy, and hoped the young woman would be happy, and the young woman waved her hand, with the glove only half pulled on, toward the shadow-dappled prairie and the willow-fringed creek and the hills beyond. Happy, she echoed joyously. Could one be anything else in such a country? and then you don't know manly you see it's horribly bad form and undignified and all that to prate of one's private affairs but i just can't help bubbling over i'm not looking for heaven and i expect to have plenty of bumpy places in the trail trail is anything that you travel over out here manly has coached me faithfully but i'm going to be happy my mind is quite made up up well good-bye i'm so glad you happen to be on this train and i wish i might meet you again isn't it a funny little depot oh yes thank you i almost forgot that umbrella and i might need it

yes i'll write to you i should hate to drop out of your mind completely address me mrs manly fleetwood hope montana good-bye i wish She trailed off down the aisle with eyes shining in the wake of the grinning porter. She hurried down the steps, glanced hastily along the platform, up at the car window where the faded little schoolteacher was smiling wearily down at her, waved her hand, threw a dainty little kiss, nodded a gay farewell, smiled vaguely at the conductor, who had been respectfully pleasant to her, and then she was looking at the rear platform of the receding train mechanically, not yet quite realizing why it was that her heart went heavy so suddenly.

She turned then and looked about her in a surprised inquiring fashion. Manly, it would seem, was not at hand to welcome her. She had expected his face to be the first she looked upon in that town, but she tried not to be greatly perturbed at his absence. So many things may detain one. At that moment a young fellow, whose clothes emphatically proclaimed him a cowboy, came diffidently up to her,

tilted his hat backward an inch or so, and left it that way, thereby unconsciously giving himself an air of candor, which should have been reassuring. Fleetwood was detained. You were expecting to, you're the lady he was expecting aren't you she had been looking questioningly at her violin box and two trunks standing on their ends farther down the platform and she smiled vaguely without glancing at him yes i hope he isn't sick or i'll take you over to the hotel and go tell him you're here he volunteered somewhat curtly and picked up her bag oh thank you this time

her eyes grazed his face inattentively. She followed him down the rough steps of planking and up an extremely dusty road, one could scarcely call it a street, to an uninviting building with crooked windows and a high false front of unpainted boards. The young fellow opened a sagging door, let her pass into a narrow hallway, and from there into a stuffy, hopelessly conventional, fifth-rate parlor, handed her the bag, and departed with another tilt of the hat, which placed it at a different angle. The sentence meant for farewell she did not catch, for she was staring at a wooden-faced portrait upon an easel,

the portrait of a man with a drooping mustache and porky cheeks and dead-looking eyes. And I expected bare-skin rugs and antlers on the walls and big fireplaces, she remarked aloud and sighed. Then she turned and pulled aside a coarse curtain of dusty, machine-made lace, and looked after her guide. He was just disappearing into a saloon across the street, and she stopped the curtain precipitately, as if she were ashamed of spying.

Oh, well, I've heard all cowboys are more or less intemperate, she excused, again aloud. She sat down upon an atrocious red-plushed chair And wrinkled her nose spitefully at the porky-cheeked portrait I suppose you're the proprietor she accused or else the proprietor's son I wish you wouldn't squint like that If I have to stop here longer than ten minutes I shall certainly turn you face to the wall Whereupon with another grimace she turned her back upon

it and looked out of the window. Then she stood up impatiently, looked at her watch, and sat down again upon the red-plush chair. He didn't tell me whether Manly is sick, she said suddenly with some resentment. He was awfully abrupt in his manner. Oh, you, she rose, picked up an old newspaper from the marble-top table with uncertain legs and spread it urgently over the portrait upon the easel. Then she went to the window and looked out again. I feel perfectly sure that cowboy went and got drunk immediately, she complained, drumming pettishly upon the glass,

and I don't suppose he told Manly at all. The cowboy was innocent of the charge, however, and he was doing his energetic best to tell Manley. He had gone straight through the saloon, and into the small room behind, where a man lay sprawled upon a bed in one corner. He was asleep, and his clothes were wrinkled, as if he had lain there long. His head rested upon his folded arm, and he was snoring loudly. The young fellow went up and took him roughly by the shoulder.

"'Here, I thought I told you to straighten up,' he cried disgustedly. "'Come alive! The train's coming. come and gone, and your girl's waiting for you over at the hotel. Do you hear? Uh-huh. The man opened one eye, grunted, and closed it again. The other yanked him half off the bed and swore. This brought both eyes open, glassy with whiskey and sleep. He sat wobbling upon the edge of the bed, staring stupidly. Can't you get anything through you? His tormentor. exclaimed. You want your girl to find out you're drunk? You got the license in your pocket. You're

supposed to get spliced this evening, and look at you. He turned and went out to the bartender. Why didn't you pour that coffee into him like I told you, he demanded. We've got to get him steady on his pin somehow. The bartender was sprawled half over the bar, apathetically reading the sporting news of a torn Sunday edition of an Eastern paper. He looked up from under his eyebrows and grunted. How are you going to pour coffee down a man that lays flat on his belly and won't open his mouth? He inquired in an injured tone. Sleeps all he needs, anyway.

He'll be all right by morning. The other snorted dissent. He'll be all right by dark, or he'll feel a whole lot worse. worse, he promised grimly. Dig up some ice, and a good jolt of bromo, if you've got it, and a towel or two. The bartender wearily pushed the paper to one side, reached languidly under the bar, and laid hold of a round blue bottle. Yawning, uninterestedly, he poured a double portion of the white crystals into a glass,

half-filled another under the faucet of the water-cooler, and held them out. dump that into him then he advised it'll help some if you get it down what's the sweat to get him married off to-day won't the girl wait i never asked her you pound up some ice and bring it in will you the volunteer nurse kicked open the door into the little room and went in hastily pouring the bromo-seltzer from one glass to the other to keep it from foaming out of all bounds his patient was still sitting upon the edge of the bed where he had left him slumped forward with his head in his hands he looked up stupidly his eyes bloodshot and swollen of lid is the train come in yet he asked thickly is you is it kent the train's come and your girl is waiting for you at the hotel here throw this in to you and for god's sake brates up. You make me tired. Drink her down quick. The foam's good for you. Here, you take the stuff in the bottom, too. Got it? Take off your coat so I can get at you. You don't look much like getting married, and that's no Josh. Fleetwood shook his head with drunken gravity and groaned.

I ought to be killed. Drunk today. He sagged forward. He sagged forward. again and seemed disposed to shed tears. She'll never forgive me. She... Kent jerked him to his feet peremptorily. Ah, look here. I'm trying to sober you up. You've got to do your part, see? Here's some ice in a towel. You get it on your head.

Open up your shirt so I can bathe your chest. Don't do any good to blubber around about it. Your girl can't hear. you, and Jim and I ain't sympathetic. Set down in this chair where we can get at you. He enforced his command with some vigor, and Fleetwood groaned again. But he shed no more tears, and he grew momentarily more lucid as the treatment took effect. The tears were being shed in the stuffy little hotel parlor.

The young woman looked often at her watch, went into the hallway, and opened the outer door several times, meditating a search of the town, and drew back always with a timid fluttering of heart, because it was all so crude and strange, and the saloon so numerous and terrifying in their very bald simplicity. She was worried about Manly, and she wished that cowboy would come out of the saloon and bring her lover to her. She had never dreamed of being treated in this way.

no one came near her and she had secretly expected to cause something of a flutter in this little town they called hope surely young girls from the east come out to get married to their sweethearts weren't so numerous that they should be ignored if there were other people in the hotel they did not manifest their presence save by disquieting noises muffled by intervening partitions she grew thirsty but she hesitated to explore the depths of this dreary abode in fear of worse horrors than the parlor furniture and all the places of refreshment which she could see from the window or the door looked terribly masculine and un moral and as if they did not know there existed such things as ice-cream or soda or sherbet it was after an hour of this that the tears came which is seeing a good deal for her courage it seemed to her then that manly must be dead what else could keep him so long away from her after three years of impassioned longing written twice a week with punctilious regularity he knew that she was coming she had telegraphed from st paul and had received a joyful reply lavishly expressed in seventeen words instead of the ten-word limit and they were to have been married immediately upon her arrival that cowboy had known she was coming he must also have known why manly did not meet her and she wished futilely that she had questioned him instead of walking beside him without a word he should have explained he would have explained if he had not been so very anxious to get inside that saloon and get drunk she had always heard that cowboys were chivalrous and brave and fascinating in their picturesque dear devilry

but from the lone specimen which she had met she could not see that they possessed any of those qualities if all cowboys were like that she hoped that she would not be compelled to meet any of them and why didn't manly come it was then that an inner door a door which she had wanted to open but had lacked courage squeaked upon its hinges and an ill-kept bundle of hair was thrust in topping a weather-beaten face and a scrawny little body two faded inquisitive eyes looked her over and the woman sidled in somewhat abashed but too curious to remain outside oh yes she seemed to be answering some inner question i didn't know you was here she went over and removed the newspaper from the portrait that breed girl of mine ain't got the least idea of how to straighten up a room she observed complainingly i guess she thinks this picture was made to hang things on i'll have to round her up again and tell her a few things this is my first husband he was in politics and got beat and so he killed himself he couldn't stand to have folks give him the laugh she spoke with pride he was a real handsome man don't you think you might have took off the paper it didn't belong there and he does brighten up the room a good picture is real company seems to me when my old man gets on the rampage till i can't stand it no longer i come in here and set and look at walt tain't every man that's got nerve to kill himself with a shotgun it was terrible he took and tied a string to the trigger

oh please the landlady stopped short and stared at her what oh i won't go into details it was awful messy and that That's a fact. I didn't get over it for a couple of months. He could have killed himself with a six-shooter. It's always been a mystery why he dug up that old shotgun, but he did. I always thought he wanted to show his nerve. She sighed and drew her fingers across her eyes. I don't suppose I ever will get over it, she added complacently. It was a terrible shock. Do you know, the girl began desperately, if Mr. Manley Fleetwood is in town, I expected him to meet me at the train. Oh, I kind of thought you was Man Fleetwood's girl. My name's Holly. You're going to be married tonight, ain't you? I haven't seen Mr. Fleetwood yet, hesitated the girl, and her eyes filled again with tears.

I'm afraid something may have happened to him. He... Mrs. Holly glimpsed the tears and instantly became motherly in her manner. She even went up and patted the girl on the shoulder. There, now don't you worry, none. Man's all right. I seen him at dinner time. He was...

She stopped short, looking keenly at the delicate face, and at the yellow-brown eyes which gazed back at her. innocent of evil, trusting, wistful. He spoke about your coming and said he'd want to use the parlor this evening for the wedding. I had an idea you was coming on the 620 train. Maybe he thought so too. I never heard you come in. I was busy frying donuts in the kitchen, and I just happened to come in here after something. You'd oughta wrapped on that door, then I'd have known you was here. I'll go and have my old man hunt him up. He must be around town somewheres. Like as not, he'll meet the 6.20, expecting you to be on it.

She smiled reassuringly as she turned to the inner door. You take off your hat and jacket, and pretty soon I'll show you up to a room. I'll have to round up my old man first, and that's liable to take some time. She turned her eyes quizzically to the... porky-cheeked portrait. You just let Walt keep you company till I get back. He was real good company when he was living. She smiled again and went out briskly, came back, and stood with her hand upon the cracked door-knob. I clean forgot your name, she hinted. Man told me at dinner time, but I'm no good on earth at remembering names till after I've seen the person it belongs to.

valeria pason valrya pason val they call me usually at home the homesickness of the girl shone in her misty eyes haunted her voice mrs holly read it and spoke more briskly than she would otherwise have done well we're plump strangers but we ain't goin to stay that way because every time you come to town you'll have to stop here there ain't any other place to stop and i'm going to start right in calling you val we don't use no ceremony with folks names out here val's a real nice name short and easy to say mine's arline you can call me by it if you want to i don't let everybody's a nice name short and easy to say mine's arline you can call me by it if you want to i don't let everybody buddy, so many wants to cut it down to lean, and I won't stand for that. I'm lean enough without having it throw it up to me. We might just as well start in the way we're likely to keep it up, and you won't feel so much like a stranger. I'm awful glad you're getting to settle here. There ain't so awful many women in the country. We have to rake and scrape to get enough for three sets when we have a dance, and more likely we can't make out more than two. Do you dance?

Somebody said they seen a fiddle box down to the depot with a couple of big trunks. Do you play the fiddle? A little. Valeria smiled faintly. Well, that'll come in awful handy at dances. We'd have them real often in the winter, if it wasn't such a job to get music. Well, I got too much to do to be standing here talking. I have to keep right after that breed girl all the time, or she won't do nothing. I'll get my old man after your fellow right away. Just make yourself to home, and anything you want, ask for it in the kitchen.

She smiled in friendly fashion and closed the door with a little slam to make sure that it latched. Valeria stood for a moment with her head. hands hanging straight at her sides, staring absently at the door. Then she glanced at Walt, staring wooden-faced from his gilt frame upon his guilt easel, and she shivered. She pushed the red-plush chair, as far away from him as possible, sat down with her back to the picture, and immediately felt his dull black eyes boring into her back. "'What a fool I must be,' she said aloud.

glancing reluctantly over her shoulder at the portrait. She got up resolutely, placed the chair where it had stood before, and stared deliberately at Walt, as if she would prove how little she cared. But in a moment more she was crying dismally. End of Chapter 1. Chapter 2 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. B. B. M. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 2. Well-Ment Advice. Kent Burnett, bearing over his arm a coat newly pressed in the Delmonico

Restaurant, dodged in at the back door of the saloon, threw the coat down upon the tousled bed, and pushed back his hat with a gesture of relief at no onerous duty well-performed. I had one hell of a time, he had. announced plaintively, and that clink will likely try to poison me if I eat over there, after this, but I got her ironed all right. Get into it, man, and chase yourself over there to the hotel. Got a clean collar? That one's all over coffee. Fleetwood stifled a groan, reached into a trouser's pocket and brought up a dollar. Get me one at the store, will you, Kent? Fifteen and a half, and a tie, if they've got any that's decent. And hurry! Such a triple-three-dollar fool as I am,

ought to be taken out and shot! He went on, cursing himself audibly and bitterly, even after Kent had hurried out. He was sober now, was manly Fleetwood, sober and self-condemnatory and penitent. His head ate splittingly, his eyes were heavily litted and bloodshot, and his hands trembled so that he could scarcely button his coat. But he was sober. He did not even carry the odor of whiskey upon his breath or his person, for Kent had been very thoughtful and very thorough. He had compelled his patient to crunch and swallow many nauseous tablets of whiskey-killer, and he had sprinkled his clothes liberally with jockey club. Fleetwood, therefore, while he emanated odors and plenty, carried about him none of the

aroma properly belonging to intoxication. In ten minutes, Kent was back, with a celluloid collar and two ties of questionable taste. Manly just glanced at them, waved them away with gloomy finality, and swore. They're just about the limit, and that's no dream, sympathized Kent, but they're clean, and they don't look like they'd been slept in for a month. You've got to put it. them on by george i sized up the layout in both those imitation stores and i drew the highest in the deck and for the lord's sake get a move on here i'll button it for you behind fleetwood's back when collar and tie were in place kent grinned and lowered an eyelid at jim who put his head in from the saloon to see how far the sobering had progressed

you look fine he encouraged heartily that green and blue tie's just what you need to set you off and the collar sure is shiny and nice your girl will be plum-dazzled she won't see anything wrong believe me now run along and get married here you better sneak out the back way if she happened to be looking out she'd likely wonder what you were doing coming out of a saloon duck out past the coal shed and cut into the street by brinberg's tell her you're sick got a sick headache your looks'll swear it's the truth hike he opened the door and pushed fleetwood out watching him out of sight around the corner of brinburgh's store and turned back into the close-smelling little room do you know he remarked to jim i never thought of it before but i've been playing a little room low-down trick on that poor girl i kind of wish now i'd put her next and given her a chance to draw out of the game if she wanted to it's stacking the deck on her if you ask me he pushed his hat back upon his head gave his shoulders a twist of dissatisfaction and told jim to dig up some eastern beer drank it meditatively and set down the glass with some force yes sir he said disgustedly darn my fool soul i stacked the deck on that girl and she looked to be real nice kind of innocent and trusting like she hasn't found out yet how rotten mean men critters can be he took the bottle and poured himself another glass she's sure do to wise up a lot he added grimly you bet your sweet life jimmy

and then he reconsidered. Still, I don't know. Man ain't so worse. He ain't what you call a real booze fighter. This here is what I'd call an accidental jag. Got it in the exuberance of the joyful moment when he knew his girl was coming. He'll likely straighten up and be all right.

He... Jim broke off there and looked to see who had opened the door. Hello, Polly, he greeted Carrienne. The man came forward, grinning skinnily. Polycarp Jenks was the outrageous name of him. He was under the average height, and he was leaned to the point of emaciation. His mouth was absolutely curveless, a straight gash across his face, a gash which simply stopped short, without any tapering or any turn at the corners,

when it had reached as far as was decent. His nose was also straight and high, and owned no perceptible slope. Indeed, it seemed merely a pendant attached to his forehead, and its upper termination was indefinite, except that somewhere between his eyebrows, one felt impelled to consider it forehead rather than nose. His eyes also were rather long and narrow, like buttonholes cut to match the mouth.

When he grinned, his face appeared, to break up into splinters. He was intensely proud of his name, and his pleasure was almost pathetic when one pronounced it without curtailment in his presence. His skininess was also a matter of pride, and when you realize that he was an indefatigable gossip and seemed always to be riding at large, gathering or imparting trivial news, you should know fairly well, Polycarp Jenks. I see Man Fleetwood's mightnare sober enough to get married, Pollycarp began, coming up to the two and leaning a sharp elbow upon the bar beside Kent. By granny, getting married had sober anybody.

Dinner time he was so drunk he couldn't find his mouth. I met him up here a little ways just now, and he was so sober, he remembered to pay me that ten I lent him the other day. "'He-ha. Open up a bottle of pop, James.' "'His girl's been might near crying her eyes out "'because he didn't show up. "'Miss Holly says she looked like she was due at a funeral "'stead of a wedding.

"'Cline to be stuck up, according to Miss Holly. "'Shied at hearing about Walt. "'I'll bet there ain't been a tangent "'to that hotel in the last five year, "'man or woman, that ain't had to hear about Walt in the shotgun. Pops all right on a hot day, you bet. She's got two trunks and a fiddle over to the depot. Don't see how in the world man's going to get him out to the ranch. There might near his biggest clam shacks, both of them. Time she gets him into man's shack, she'll have to go outside

every time she wants to turn around. Bye, granny, two trunks to one woman. Have some pop, Kenneth, on me. The boys are talking about a shivery tonight. On the quiet, you know. Some of them's working on a horse fiddle now, over in the lumberyard. Wanted me to play a coal oil can, but I don't know.

I'm getting a little old for such doings. Keeps you up nights too much. Man had any sense he'd marry and pull out of town. About fifteen or twenty, in the bunch and string of cans and irons to reach clean across the street by granny i'm going to plug me ears good with cotton when it comes off another bottle of pop james who's running the show polycarp kent asked accepting the glass of soda because he disliked to offend funny i didn't hear about it polycarp twisted his slit of a mouth knowingly and closed one slit of an eye to assist the facial elucidation ain't funny not when i tell you fred de garmo's handling out invites and he sure aims to have plenty of excitement bet your manly won't be able to set in the wagon seat and hold the lines to-morrow not if he comes out when he's called and does the thing proper

and if he don't show up they aim to just about pull the old shabang down over his ears hope'll think it's the day of judgment sure reckon i might as well get in on the fun they won't be no sleeping within ten mile of the place nohow and a feller always sees the joke better when he's lending a hand too bad you and fred's on the outs kenneth oh i don't know it suits me fine Kent declared easily, setting down his glass with a sigh of relief. He hated Pop. What's it all about anyway? Quizzed Polycarp, hungering for the details which had thus far been denied him. De Garmos sees red whenever anybody mentions your name, Kenneth. But I never did hear no particulars.

No? Ken was turning toward the door. Well, you see, Fred claims he can't. can holler louder than i can and i say he can't he opened the door and calmly departed leaving polycarp looking exceedingly foolish and a bit angry straight to the hotel without any pretense at disguising his destination marched kent he went into the office which was really a saloon invited holly to drink with him and then wondered audibly if he could beg some pie from mrs holly supper'll be ready in a few minutes holly informed him glancing up at the round dust-covered clock screwed to the wall i don't want supper i want pie kent retorted and opened a door which led into the hallway he went down the narrow passage to another door opened it without ceremony and was assailed by the odor of many things the odor which spoke plainly of supper or some other assortment of food food. No one was in sight, so he entered the dining-room boldly, stepped to another door,

tapped very lightly upon it, and went in. By this somewhat roundabout method, he invaded the parlor. Manly Fleetwood was lying upon an extremely uncomfortable couch, of the kind which is called a sofa. He had a lace-edged handkerchief folded upon his brow, and upon his face was an expression of conscious unworthiness, which struck Kent as being extremely humorous. He grinned, understandingly, and Manly flushed, also understandingly. Valeria hastily released Manley's hand and looked very prim and a bit haughty, as she regarded the intruder from the red plush chair, pulled close to the couch. Mr. Fleetwood's head is very bad yet, she informed Kent coldly.

I really do not think he ought to see anybody. Kent tapped his hat gently against his leg and faced her unflinchingly, quite unconscious of the fact that she regarded him as a dissolute drunken cowboy, with whom manly ought not to associate. That's too bad! His eyes failed to drop guiltily before hers,

but continued to regard her calmly. I'm not going to stay a minute. I came to tell you that there's a scheme to raise to shivore you two tonight. I thought you might want to pull out along about dark. Manley looked up at him inquiringly with the eye which was not covered by the lace-edged handkerchief. Valeria seemed startled just at first.

Then she gave Kent a little shock of surprise. I have read about such things. A chavari, even though out here in the uncivilized section of the country, can hardly be dangerous. I really do not think we care to run away, thank you. Her lip curled unmistakably. Mr. Fleetwood is suffering from a sick headache. He needs rest, not a cowardly night ride.

Naturally, Kent admired the spirit she showed, in spite of that eloquent lip, the scorn of which seemed aimed directly at him, but he still faced her steadily. Sure, but if I had it, a headache like that, I'd certainly burn the earth getting out of town tonight. Shiveries, he stuck stubbornly to his own way of saying it, are bad for the head. They aren't what you could call silent, not out here in this uncivilized section of the

country. Their plumb—he hesitated for just a fraction of a second, and his resentment of her tone melted into a twinkle of the eyes. They've got 50 coal oil cans strung with irons on a rope And there'll be about 95 six-shooters popping And eight or ten horse-fiddles And they'll all be yelling to beat four of a kind

They're going, he said quite gravely, To play the full orchestra And I don't believe, he added ironically, It's going to help Mr. Fleetwood's head any. Valeria looked at him, doubtingly, with steady amber-colored eyes before she turned solicitously to readjust the lace-edged handkerchief. Kent seized the opportunity to stare fixedly at Fleetwood and jerk his head meaningly backward. But when, warned by Manley's changing expression, she glanced suspiciously over her shoulder,

Kent was standing quietly by the door with his hat in his hand, gazing absently at Walt in his gilt-edged frame upon the gilt easel and waiting, evidently, for their decision. I shall tell them that Mr. Fleetwood is sick, that he has a horrible headache and mustn't be disturbed. Kent forgot himself so far as to cough slightly behind his hand. Valeria's eyes sparkled. Even out here, she went on cuttingly, there must be some men who are gentlemen. Kent refrained from looking at her,

but the blood crept darkly into his tan cheeks. Evidently she had it in for him, but he could not see why. He wondered swiftly if she blamed him for Manley's condition. Fleetwood suddenly sat up, spilling the handkerchief to the floor. When Valeria essayed to push him back, he put her hand gently away.

he rose and came over to kent is this street goods he demanded why don't you stop it fred de garmos running this show my influence wouldn't go as far fleetwood turned to the girl and his manner was masterful i'm going out with kent oh val this is mr burnett kent miss pason i forgot you two weren't acquainted from valeria's manner they were in no danger of becoming friends her acknowledgment was barely perceptible kent bowed stiffly i'm going to see about this val continued fleetwood oh my head's better a lot better really maybe we'd better leave town if your head is better i don't see why we need to run away from a lot of silly noise valeria interposed with merciless logic. They'll think we're awful cowards. Well, I'll try and find out. I won't be gone a minute, dear.

After that word, spoken before another, he appeared to be in great haste, and pushed Kent rather unceremoniously through the door. In the dining room, Kent diplomatically included the landlady in the conference, by a gesture of much mystery bringing her in from the kitchen, where she had been curiously peeping out at them. "'Got to let her in,' he whispered to Manly, to keep her face closed.

They murmured together for five minutes. Kent seemed to meet with some opposition from Fleetwood, an aftermath of Valeria's objection to flight, and became brutally direct. "'Go ahead, do as you please,' he said roughly. "'But you know that, bunch. You'll have to show up, and you'll have to set them up, and... Ah, thunder!

By morning you'll be plum-laid out. You'll be headed into one of your four-day jags, and you know it. I was thinking of the girl. But if you don't care, I guess it's none of my funeral. Go to it. But darned if I'd want to start my honeymoon out like that! Fleetwood weakened, but still he hesitated. if i didn't show up he began hopefully but kent whittered him with a look that bunch will be two-thirds full before they start out if you don't show up they'll go up and haul you out of bed hell man

you'd likely start in to kill somebody off fred de garmo don't love you much better than he loves me you know what him and his friends would do then i should think he stopped and seemed to consider briefly a plan but shook his head over it i could round up a bunch and stand em off maybe but we'd be shooting each other up first rattle of the box it's a whole lot easier for you to get out of town i'll tell somebody you got the bridal chamber hissed arline in a very loud whisper that's number two in front i can keep a light going and pass back and forth once in a while to look like you're there that'll fool em good they'll wait till the lights bent out quite a while before they start in you go ahead and get married at seven just as you was going to and if kent'll have the team ready somewhere I can easy sneak you out the back way. I couldn't get the team out of town without giving the whole deal away, Kent objected. You'll have to go horseback. Val can't ride, Fleetwood stated, as if that settled the matter.

Damn it, she's got to ride, snapped Kent, losing patience, unless you want to stay and go on a toot that'll last a week, most likely. Val belongs to the WCTU, shrugged Fleetwood. She'd never. Well, it's that, or have a fight on your hands you maybe can't handle. I don't see any sense in haggling about going. Now you know what to expect. But, of course, he added with some acrimony,

it's your own business. I don't know what the dickens I'm getting all worked up over it for. Suit yourself. He turned towards. the door. She could ride my Molly, and I got a side saddle hanging up in the coal shed. She could use that or a stock saddle, either one, planned Mrs. Holly anxiously. You'd better pull out, man.

Hold on, Kent. Don't rush off. We'll go, Fleetwood surrendered. Val won't like it, but I'll explain as well as I can without— Say, you stay and see— "'Yes, married, won't you? It's at seven, and—' Kent's fingers curled around the doorknob. "'No, thanks. Weddings and funerals are two bunches of trouble I always ride way around.

Time enough when you've got to be it. Along about nine o'clock, you try and get out to the stockyards, without letting the whole town see you go, and I'll have the horses there. just beyond the wings by that pile of ties you know the place i'll wait there till ten and not a minute longer that'll give you an hour and you won't need any more time than that if you get down to business you find out from her what saddle she wants and you can tell me while i'm eating supper mrs holly i'll tend to the rest he did not wait to hear whether they agreed to the plan but went moodily down the narrow passage and entering frowningly the office. Several men were gathered there, waiting the supper summons. Holly glanced up from wiping her glass and grinned.

Well, did you get the pie? Nah, she said I've got to wait for meal time. She plumb chased me out. Fred de Garmo, sprawled in an armchair and smoking a cigar, lazily fanned the smoke cloud from before his face and looked at Kent attentively. End of Chapter 2. Chapter 3 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. B. M. B. B. B. B. Bower. This Liber Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 3. A Lady in a Temper. To saddle two horses when the night has grown black,

and to lead them, unobserved, so shorter distance as two hundred hundred thousand, yards or so, seems a simple thing. And for two healthy young people, with full use of their wits and their legs, to steal quietly away to where those horses are wading, would seem quite as simple. At the same time, to prevent the successful accomplishment of these things is not difficult, if one but fully understands the designs of the fugitives. Holly Hotel did a flourishing business that night. The two long tables in the dining room, usually not more than half filled by those who hungered

and were not overnice concerning the food they ate, were twice filled to overflowing. Mrs. Holly and the breed girl held hasty consultations in the kitchen over the supply, and never was there such a rattling of dishes hurriedly cleansed for the next comer. kent managed to find a chair at the first table and eyed the landlady unobtrusively but fred de garmo sat down opposite and his eyes were bright and watchful so that there seemed to be no possible way of delivering a message undetected until indeed mrs holly in desperation resorted to strategy and urged kent unnecessarily to take another slice of bacon have some more it sighed she hissed in his ear and watched anxiously his face all right said kent and speared a slice with his fork although his plate was already well supplied with bacon then glancing up he detected fred in a thoughtful stare which seemed evenly divided between the landlady and himself kent was conscious of a passing mental discomfort which he put aside as foolish because digarmo could not possibly know what mrs holly meant

to ease his mind still further he glared insolently at fred and then at polycarp jenks teaheeing a few chairs away after that he finished as quickly as possible without exciting remark and went his way he had not however been two minutes in the office before de garmo entered from that time on through the whole evening fred was never far distant wherever he went kent could not shake him off though de garmo never seemed to pay any attention to him and his presence was always apparently accidental i reckon i'll have to lick that son of a gun yet sighed kent when a glance at the round clock in the hotel office told him that in just twenty minutes it would strike nine and not a move made toward getting those horses saddled and out to the stockyards there was much talk of the wedding which had taken place quietly in the parlor at the appointed hour but not a man mentioned a shiravrey there were many who wished openly that fleetwood would come out and be sociable about it but not a hint that they intended to take measures to bring him among them he had caused a box of cigars to be placed upon the bar of every saloon in town where men might help themselves at his expense evidently he had considered that with the cigars his social obligations were cancelled they smoked their cigars and with the same breath gossiped of him and his affairs at just fourteen minutes to nine kent went out and without any attempt at concealment hurried to the holly stables

half a minute behind him trailed de garmo also without subterfuge half an hour later the bridal couple stole away from the rear of the hotel and keeping to the shadows went stumbling over the uneven ground to the stockyards here's the tie pile fleetwood announced in an undertone when they reached the place you stay here val and i'll look farther along the fence maybe the horses are down there valeria did not reply but stood very straight and dignified in the shadow of the huge pile of rotting railroad ties he was gone but a moment and came anxiously back to her. They're not here, he said in a low voice. Don't worry, dear. He'll come. I know Kent Burnett. Are you sure? queried Val sweetly. From what I have seen of the gentleman, your high estimate of him seems quite unauthorized.

Aside from escorting me to the hotel, he has been anything but reliable. Instead of telling you that I was here, or telling me, me that you were sick, he went straight into a saloon and forgot all about us both. You know that. If he were your friend, why should he immediately begin carousing, instead of... He didn't, Fleetwood defended weakly. No, then perhaps you can explain his behavior. Why didn't he tell me you were sick?

Why didn't he tell you I came on that train? Can you tell me that, manly? manley for a very good reason could not so he put his arms around her and tried to coax her into good humor sweetheart let's not quarrel so soon why we're only two hours married i want you to be happy and if you'll only be brave and-brave mrs fleetwood laughed rather contemptuously for a bride please to understand manly that i'm not frightened in the least it's you and that horrid cowboy i don't see why we need to run away like criminals those men don't intend to murder us do they her mood softened a little and she squeezed his arms between her hands you dear old silly i'm not blaming you with your head in such a state you can't think things out properly and you let that cowboy influence you against your better judgment you're afraid i might be annoyed but really manly this silly idea of running away annoys me much more than all the noise of those fellows could possibly make indeed i don't think i would mind it would give me a glimpse of the real west and perhaps if they grew too boisterous and i spoke to them and asked them not to be quite so rough

and really they only mean it as a sort of welcome in their crude way we could invite some of the nicest to have cake and coffee or maybe we might get some ice-cream somewhere and it might turn out a very pleasant little affair i don't mind meeting them manly the worst of them can't be as bad as that but of course if he's your friend i suppose i oughtn't to speak too freely my opinion of him fleetwood held her closely patted her cheek absently and tried to think of some effective argument they'll be drunk sweetheart he told her after a silence i don't think so she returned firmly i have been watching the street all the evening i saw any number of men passing back and forth and i didn't see one who staggered and they were all very quiet considering their rough ways which one must expect why manly you always wrote about these western men being such fine fellows and so generous and big-hearted under their rough exterior your letters were full of it and how chivalrous they all are toward nice women she laid her head coaxingly against his shoulder let's go back manly i want to see a chivalry dear it will be fun i want to write all about it to the girls they'll be perfectly wild with envy she struggled with her conventional upbringing and even if some of them are slightly under the influence if liquor we needn't meet them you needn't introduce those at all and i'm sure they will understand

don't be silly val fleetwood did not seem to be rude but a faint glimmer of her romantic viewpoint a viewpoint gained chiefly from current fiction and the stage came to him and contrasted rather brutally with the reality he did not know how to make her understand without incriminating himself his letters had been rather idealistic he admitted to himself they had been written unthinkingly because he wanted her to like this big land naturally he had not been too baldly truthful in picturing the place and the people he had passed lightly over their faults and thrown the limelight on their virtues and so he had aided unwittingly the stage and the fiction she had read in giving her a false impression offended at his words and his tone she drew away from him and glanced wistfully back toward the town as if she meditated a haughty return to the hotel she ended by seating herself upon a projecting tie oh very well my lord she retorted i shall try and not be silly but merely idiotic as you would have me you and your friend she was very angry but she was perfectly well-bred she hoped if i might venture a word she began again ironically it seems to me that your friend has been playing a practical joke upon you he evidently has no intention of bringing any fleet steeds to us no doubt he is at this moment laughing with his dissolute companions because we are sitting out here in the dark like two silly chickens i think he's coming now manly said rather stiffly of course i don't ask you to like him but he's putting himself to a good deal of trouble for us and

wasted effort so far as i am concerned valeria put in with a chirpy accent which was exasperating even to a bridegroom very much in love with his bride in the darkness that muffled the land save where the yellow flea of lamps in the little town made a misty brightness, came the click of shod hoofs. Another moment, and a man, mounted upon a white horse, loomed indistinct before them, seeming to take substance from the night. Behind him trailed another horse,

and for the first time in her life, Valeria heard the soft whispering creek of saddle-leather, the faint clank of spur chains, and the whir of a horse mounting the car. cricket in his bit. Even in her anger, she was conscious of an answering tingle of blood, because this was life in the raw, life such as she had dreamed of in the tight swaddlings of a smug civilization and had longed for intensely.

Kent swung down close beside them, his form indistinct but purposeful. "'I'm late, I guess,' he remarked, turning to Fleetwood. Fred got next somehow, and I was detained. "'Where is he?' asked Manly, going up and laying a questioning hand upon the horse. By that means fully recognizing it as Kent's own. "'In the oats box,' said Kent laconically. He turned to the girl.

"'I couldn't get the side saddle,' he explained apologetically. "'I looked where Mrs. Holly said it was, but I couldn't find it, and I didn't have much time. You'll have to ride a stock saddle. Valeria drew back a step. You mean a man's saddle? Her voice was carefully polite. Why, yes, and he added,

The horse is dead gentle, and a side saddle's no good anyhow. You'll like this better. He spoke, as was evident, purely from a man's viewpoint. That viewpoint Mrs. Fleet would refuse to share. Oh, I couldn't ride a man's saddle, she protested, still politely, and one could imagine how her lips were pursed. Indeed, I'm not sure that I care to leave town at all.

To her, the declaration did not seem unreasonable or abrupt, but she felt that Kent was very much shocked. She saw him turn his head and look back toward the town, as if he half-expected a pursuit. "'I don't reckon the oats-box will hold Fred very long,' he observed meditatively. He added reminiscently to Manly. "'I had a deuce of a time getting the cover down and fastened.' "'I'm very sorry,' said Valeria, with sweet dignity, that you gave yourself so much trouble.

I'm kind of sorry myself, Kent agreed mildly, and Valeria blushed hotly, and was glad he could not see. Come, Val, you can ride this saddle all right. All the girls out here... I did not come west to imitate all the girls. Indeed, I could never think of such a thing. I couldn't possibly. Really, manly?

and you know it does seem so childish of us to run away kent moved restlessly and felt to see if the cinch was tight fleetwood took her coaxingly by the arm come sweetheart don't be stubborn you know well really if it's a question of obstinacy you see i look at the matter in this way you believe that you are doing what is best for my sake I don't agree with you, and it does seem as if I should be permitted to judge what I desire. Then her dignity and her sweet calm went down before a flash of real unpolished temper. You two can take those nasty horses and ride clear to Dakota if you want to. I'm going back to the hotel, and I'm going to tell somebody to let that poor fellow out of that box. I think you're acting perfectly horrid, bull. of you when I don't want to go." She actually started back toward the scattered

points of light. She did not, however, get so far away that she failed to hear Kent's Well, I'll be damned, uttered in a tone of intense disgust. I don't care, she assured herself, because of the thrill of compunction caused by that one forcible sentence. she had never before in her life heard a man really swear it affected her very much as with the accidental touch of an electric battery she walked on slowly stumbling a little and trying to hear what it was they were saying then kent passed her looping back to the town the lead horse shaking his saddle so that it rattled the stirrups like castanets as he galloped i don't care she told herself again very emphatically because she was quite sure that she did care or that she would care if only she permitted herself to be so foolish manly overtook her then and drew her hand under his arm to lead her but he seemed quite sullen and would not say a word all the way back end of chapter three chapter four of lonesome land by b m b m bower this liber vogue's recording is in the public domain chapter four the shivery kent jerked open the stable door led in his horses

turned them into their stalls, and removed the saddles with quick nervous movements, which told plainly how angry he was. I'll get myself all excited trying to do her a favor again. I don't think, he growled in the ear of Michael, his gray gelding. Think of me getting let down on my face like that. By a woman! He felt along the wall in the intense darkness, until his fingers touched a lantern.

took it down from the nail where it hung and lighted it. He carried it farther down the rude passage between the stalls, hung it high upon another nail, and turned to the great oats box, from within which came a vigorous thumping and the sound of muttered cursing. Kent was not in the mood to see the humor of anything in particular. Had he known anything about Pandora's box, he might have drawn a comparison very neatly,

while he stood scowling down at the oats box, for certainly he was likely to release trouble in plenty when he unfastened that lid. He felt of the gun swinging at his hip, just to assure himself that it was there and ready for business in case Fred wanted to shoot, and wrapped with his knuckles upon the box, producing instant silence within.

"'Don't make so much noise in there,' he advised grimly, not unless you want the whole town to know where you are and have em give you the laugh and listen here i ain't apologizing for what i'd done but all the same i'm sorry i did it it wasn't any use i'd rather be shut up in an oat-box all night than get let down like i was and i'm telling you this so as to start us off even if you want a fight about it when you come out all right you're the doctor but i'm just as sorry as you are it happened i lay down my hand right here i hope you shivery man and his wife and shiverie em good i hope you bust the town wide open why the sudden change of heart came muffled from within ah that's my own business well i don't like you a little bit and you know it but i'll tell you just to give you a fair show i wanted to keep man sober and i tried to get him and his wife out of town before that chivalry of yours was pulled off but the lady wouldn't have it that way i got lye I got let right down on my face, and I'm done. Now you know just where I stand.

Maybe I'm a fool for telling you, but I seem to be in the business tonight. Come on out. He unfastened the big iron hasp, which was showing signs of the strain put upon it, and stepped back watchfully. The thick oaken lid was pushed up, and Fred de Garmo,

rather dusty and disheveled, and purple from the close atmosphere of the box and from anger as well came up like a jack in the box and glared at kent when he had stepped out upon the stable floor however he smiled rather unpleasantly if you've told the truth he said maliciously i guess the lady is pretty near even things up if you haven't if i don't find them both at the hotel well anyway he added with an ominous inflection there'll be other days to settle this in why sure help yourself fred kent retorted cheerfully and stood where he was until fred had gone out then he turned and closed the box between that yellow-eyed dame and the chump that went and left this box wide open for me to tip fred into he soliloquized while he took down the lantern and so sent the shadows dancing weirdly about him i've got a bunch of trouble mixed up for fair i wish the son of a gun would fight it out now and be done with it but no that ain't fred he'd a heap rather wait and let it draw interest over in the hotel the yellow-eyed dame was doing her unsophisticated best to meet the situation gracefully and to realize certain vague and rather romantic dreams of her life out west she meant to be very gracious for one thing and to win the chivalrous friendship of every man who came to participate in the rude congratulations that had been planned just how she meant to do this she did not know

except that the graciousness would certainly prove a very important factor i'm going to remain downstairs she told manly when they reached the hotel it was the first sentence she had spoken since he overtook her i'm so glad dear she added diplomatically that you decided to stay i want to see that funny landlady now please and get her to serve coffee and cake to our guests in the parlor i wish i might have had one of my trunks brought over here i should like to wear a pretty gown she glanced down at her tailored suit with true feminine dissatisfaction but everything was so-so confused with your being late and sick is your head better dear manly in a very few words assured her that it was manly was struggling with his inner self trying to answer one very important question and to answer it truthfully. Could he meet the boys, do his part among them, and still remain sober? That seemed to be the only course open to him now, and he knew himself just well enough to doubt his own strength.

But if Kent would help him, he felt an immediate necessity to find Kent. You'll find Mrs. Hawley somewhere around, he said hurriedly. I've got to see Kent. Oh, Manley, don't have anything to do with that horrid cowboy. He's not nice. He swore, when he must have known I couldn't hear him. And he was swearing about me, Manley. Didn't you hear him?

She stood in the doorway and clung to his arm. No, lied Manly. You must have been mistaken, sweetheart. Oh, I wasn't. I heard him quite plainly. She must have thought it a terrible thing, for she almost whispered the last words, and she released him with much reluctance. It seemed to her that Manley was in danger of falling among low associates, and that she must protect him in spite of himself.

It failed to occur to her that Manley had been exposed to that danger for three years, without any protection whatever. She was thankful when he came to her later in the parlor to learn from him that he had not held any speech with Kent. That was some comfort, and she felt that she needed a little comforting just then. Her consultation with Arlene had been rather unsatisfactory. Arlene had told her bluntly that the bunch didn't want any coffee and cake.

whiskey and cigars said arline without so much as a blush was what appealed to them fellows if manly handed it out liberal enough they wouldn't bother his bride very likely arline had assured her she wouldn't see one of them that on the whole had been rather discouraging how is she to show herself a gracious lady forsooth if no one came near her but she kept these things jealously tucked away in the remotest corner of her own mind and managed to look the relief she did not feel and after all the chrivery as is apt to be the case when the plans are laid so carefully proved a very tame affair valeria sitting rather dismally in the parlor with mrs holly for company at midnight heard a banging of tin can somewhere outside a fitful popping of six-shooters and an abortive attempt at a procession coming up the street but the line seemed to waver and then break utterly at the first saloon where drink was to be had for the asking and manly fleetwood was pledged to pay and the rattle of cans was all but drowned in the shouts of laughter and talk which came from the office across the hall for where is the pleasure or the prophet in shrivering a bridal couple which stays up and waits quite openly for the clamor is it always so noisy here at night asked valeria faintly when mrs holly had insisted upon her lying down upon the uncomfortable sofa well no unless a round-up pulls in or there's a dance or it's christmas or something it's liable to keep up till two or three o'clock so the sooner you get used to it the better off you'll be

i'm going to leave you here and go to bed unless you want to go upstairs yourself only it'll be noisier than ever up in your room for it's right over the office and the way sound travels up is something fierce Don't you be afraid. I'll lock this door, and if your husband wants to come in, he can come through the dining room. She looked at Valeria, and hesitated before she spoke the next sentence. And don't you worry a bit over him, neither.

My old man was in the kitchen a minute ago, when I was out there, and he says, man ain't drinking a drop tonight. He's keeping as straight as... Valeria sat up suddenly, quite scandalized. Oh, why of course Manly wouldn't drink with them? Why, who ever heard of such a thing? The idea!

She stared reproachfully at her hostess. Oh, sure. I didn't say such a thing was liable to happen. I just thought you might be worrying. They're making so much racket in there, stammered Arlene. "'Indeed, no. I'm not at all worried, thank you. And please don't let me keep you up any longer, Mrs. Holly. I am quite comfortable, mentally and physically, I assure you.

Good night!' Not even Mrs. Holly could remain after that. She went out and closed the door carefully behind her, without even finding voice enough to return Valeria's sweetly modulated good-night. She's got a whole lot to learn, she relieved her feeling somewhat by muttering as she mounted the stairs. What it cost Manly Fleetwood to abstain absolutely and without even the compromise of soft drinks that night, who can say? Three years of free living in Montana had lowered his standard of morality, without giving him that rugged strength of mind, which makes a man master of himself first.

of all. He had that day lain, drunken, and sleeping, when he should have been at his mental and physical best, to meet the girl who would marry him. It was that very defection, perhaps, which kept him sober in the midst of his taunting fellows. Now that Valeria was actually here, and was his wife, he was possessed by the desire to make some sacrifice, by which he might prove his penitence. at any cost he would spare her pain and humiliation, he told himself. He did it, and he did it under difficulty. He was denied the moral support of Kent Burnett,

for Kent was sulking over his slight and would have nothing to say to him. He was jeered unmercifully by Fred de Garmo and his crowd. He was baptized by some drunken reveller so that the stench of spilled whiskey filled his nostrils, and tortured him the night through. He was urged, he was bullied, he was ridiculed. His head throbbed, his eyeballs burned. But through it all, he stayed among them

because he feared that if he left them and went to Val, some drunken fool might follow him and shock her with his inebriety. He stayed and he stayed sober. Val was his wife. She trusted him, and she was ignorant of his sins. If he went to her staggering and babbling incoherent foolishness, he knew it would break her heart.

When the sky was at last showing faint dawn tints, and the clamor had worn itself out perforce, because even the leaders were, after all but men, and there was a limit to their endurance, Manly entered the parlor, haggard enough, it is true, and bearing with him the stale odor of some, cigars long-scent smoke, and of the baptism of bad whiskey, but also with the air of conscious rectitude which sits so comically upon a man unused to the feeling of virtue.

As is so often the case when one fights alone the good fight and manages to win, he was chagrined to find himself immediately put upon the defensive. Val, as she speedily demonstrated, declined to look upon him as a hero or as a being particularly virtuous. She considered herself rather neglected and abused. She believed that she had stayed away because he was angry with her on account of her refusal to leave town, and she thought that was rather brutal of him. Also her head ached from tears and lack of sleep,

and she hated the town, the hotel. Almost she hated manly himself. himself. Manley felt the rebuff of her chilling silence when he came in, and when she twitched herself loose from his embrace, he came near regretting his extreme virtue. He spent ten minutes trying to explain, without telling all of the truth, and he felt his good opinion of himself slipping from him before her inexorable disfavor. "'Well, I don't blame you for not liking the town, Val,' he said it, last, rather desperately.

But you mustn't judge the whole country by it. You'll like the ranch, dear. You'll feel as if you were in another world. I hope so, Belle interrupted, quellingly. We'll drive out there just as soon as we have breakfast. He laid his hand diffidently upon her tumbled hair. I had to stay out there with those fellows. I didn't want to.

i don't want any breakfast said val getting up and going over to the window it would seem to avoid his caress the order of that dining-room is enough to make one fast forever she lifted the grimy lace curtain with her finger-tips and looked disconsonately out upon the street it's just a dirty squalid little hamlet i don't suppose the streets have been cleaned or the garbage removed from the street from the backyards since the place was first founded she laughed shortly at the idea of founding a wretched village like that but she had no other word at hand arline she remarked in a tone of drawling recklessness arline swears did you know it i suppose of course you do she said something that struck me as being shockingly true she said i'm sure having a hell of a honeymoon then she bit her lips hard because her eyelids were stinging with the tears she refused to shed in his presence oh val from the sofa manly stared contritely at her back she must feel terrible he thought to bring herself to repeat that sentence val so icily pure in her thoughts and her speech val was blinking her tawny eyes like the eyes of a lion in color at the same street. Not for the world would she let him see that she wanted to cry. A figure, blurred to indistinctness, appealed in a doorway nearly opposite, stood for a moment looking up at the redden sky, and came across

the street. As the tears were beaten back, she saw and recognized him, with a curl of the lip. Here comes your cowboy, friend, from a saloon, of course. Her voice was lulled. Her voice was lazily contemptuous. Only his presence in the street was needed to complete the picture of desolation. He has been in a fight, judging from his face. It is all bruised and skinned, and one eye is swollen. Ugh! My guide, my advisor, is it possible, manly, that you couldn't find a nice man to meet me at the train?

She turned from the disagreeable sight of Kent and faced her husband. are all the men like that and are all the women like arline manly looked at her dumbly from the sofa would val ever come to understand the place and the people he was wondering she laughed suddenly i'm beginning to feel very sorry for walt she said irreverently pointing to the easel and the expressionless crayon portrait staring out from the gilt frame he has to stay in this room always and i believe another two hours would drive me hopelessly insane the word caught her attention hope she laughed ironically what imbecile ever thought of hope in the same breath with this place what they really ought to do is paint that abandon hope admonition across the whole front of the depot manly because he had lifted his head too suddenly and so sent white-hot irons of pain clashing through his brain turned sullen if you hate it as bad as all that he said why there'll be a train for the east in about two hours val stiffened perceptibly though the petulance in her face changed to something wistful do you mean do you want me to go she asked very calmly manly pressed his fingers hard against his temples

you know i don't i want you to stay and like the country and be happy but the way you have been talking makes it seem ah he dropped his tortured head upon his hands and did not trouble to finish what he had intended to say nervous strain lack of sleep and headache to begin with were taking a heavy toll on him he could not argue with her he could not do anything except wish he were dead or that his head would stop aching val took one of her unexpected changes of mood she went up and laid her cold fingers lightly upon his temples where she could see the blood beating savagely in the swollen veins what a little beast i am she murmured contritely shall i get you some coffee dear or some headache tablets or-you-know a cold cloth helps you last evening lie down for a little while there's no hurry about starting is there i-i don't hate the place so awfully manly i'm just cross because i couldn't sleep for the noise here's a cushion dear i think it's stuffed with scrap-iron for there doesn't seem to be anything soft about it except the invitation to slumber sweetly in red and green silk but anything is better than the head of that sofa in its natural state she arranged the cushion to her own liking if not to his and when it was done she bent down impulsively and kissed him on the cheek blushing vividly the while i won't be nasty in cross any more she promised now i'm going to interview arline i hear dishes rattling somewhere perhaps i can get a cup of real coffee for you

at the door she shook her finger at him playfully don't you dare stir off that sofa while i'm gone she admonished and remember we're not going to leave town until your head stops aching not if we stay here a week she insisted upon bringing him coffee and toast upon a tray a battered old tray purloined for that purpose from the saloon if she had only known it and she informed him with a pretty domestic pride, that she had made the toast herself. Arlene was going to lay slices of bread on top of the stove, she explained. She said she always makes toast that way, and no one could tell the difference. I never heard of such a thing. Did you, Manly? But I've been attending a cooking school ever since you left Fern Hill. I didn't tell you. I wanted it for a surprise.

I could have done better with the toast before a wood fire. I think poor Arlene was nearly distracted at the way I poked coals down from the grate, but she didn't say anything. Isn't it funny to have cream and cans? I don't suppose it ever saw a cow, do you? The coffee's pretty bad, isn't it? But wait until we get home. I can make lovely coffee, if you'll get me the percoli.

later. You will, won't you? And I learned how to make the most delicious fruit salad just before I left. A cousin of Mrs. Foreman's taught me how. Could you drink another cup, dear? Manly could not, and she deplored the poor quality, although she generously absolved Arlene from blame, because there seems so much to do in that kitchen. She refused to take any breakfast herself, telling him gaily that the odor in the kitchen was both food and drink. Because he understood a little of her loathing for the place, Manly lied heroically about his headache, so that within an hour they were leaving town,

with the two great trunks roped securely to the buckboard behind the seat, and with Val's suitcase placed flat in the front, where she could rest her feet upon it. Val was so happy at the prospect of getting away from the town, that she actually threw a kiss in the direction of Arlene, standing with her frowsy head, her doe-spotted apron, and her tired face in the parlor door. Her mood changed immediately, however,

for she had no more than turned from waving her hand at Arlene when they met Kent, riding slowly up the street with his hat tilted, over the eye almost swollen. Without a doubt, he had seen her waving and smiling, and so he must have observed the instant cooling of her manner. He nodded to Manly and lifted his hat while he looked at her full, and Val, in the arrogant pride of virtuous young womanhood,

let her golden-brown eyes dwell impersonally upon his face, let her white round chin dip half an inch downward, and then looked past him, as if he were opposed by the roadside. Afterwards, she smiled maliciously when she saw, with a swift, sidelong, glance, how he scowled and spurred unnecessarily his gray gelding. End of Chapter 4 Chapter 5 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. B. M. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. B. R. Chapter 5 Cold Spring Ranch For almost three years the letters from Manly had been headed Cold Spring Ranch

For quite as long Val had possessed a mental picture of the place A picture of a gurgly little brook with rocks and watercress And distracting little pools the size of a bathtub And with a great frowning boulder a cliff almost at the head the brook bubbled out and formed a basin in the shadow of the rock around it grew trees unnamed in the picture it is true but trees nevertheless below the spring stood a picturesque little cottage a shack manly had written was but a synonym for a small cottage and val had many small cottages in mind from which she had sketched one into her picture the sun shone on it and the western breezes flapped white curtains in the windows and there was a porch where she would swing her hammock and gaze out over the great beautiful country fascinating in its very immensity somewhere beyond the cottage shack she usually corrected herself were the corrals they were as yet rather impressionistic high round mysterious enclosures forming an effective if somewhat

hazy background to the picture. She left them to work out their attractive details upon closer acquaintance, for at most they were merely the background. The front yard, however, she dwelt upon, and made a glow with sturdy, high-hued flowers. Manly had that spring planted sweet peas and poppies and pansies and other things, he wrote her, and they had come up very nicely. Afterward, in a post-script, he answered her oft-repeated questions about the flower garden. The flowers aren't doing as well as they might. They need your tender care. I don't have much time to pet them along. The onions are doing pretty well, but they need weeding badly. In spite of that, the flowers bloomed luxuriantly in her mental picture, though she conscientiously

remembered that they weren't doing as well as they might. They were weedy and unkempt, she supposed, but a little time and care would remedy that, and was she not coming to be the mistress of all this, and to make everything beautiful? Besides, the spring and the brook which ran from it, and the trees which shaded it were the chief attractions. Perhaps she betrayed a lack of domesticity because she had not been able to see the interior of the cottage shack very clearly sunny rooms white curtains bright cushions and books pictures and rugs mingled together rather confusingly in her mind when she dwelt upon the inside of her future home it would be bright and cozy and homie she knew she would love it because it would be hers and manly's and she could do with it what she would She bothered about that no more than she did about the dresses she would be wearing next year. Cold Spring Ranch. Think of the allurement of that name, just as it stands, without any disconcerting qualification, whatever.

Any girl with yellow-brown hair and yellow-brown eyes to match, and a dreamy temperament that beautifies everything her imagination touches, would be sure to build a veritable Eve's garden around those three small words. With that picture still before her mental vision, clear as if she had all her life been familiar with it in reality, she rode beside Manly for three weary hours, across a wide, wide prairie, which looked perfectly level when you viewed it as a whole, but which proved all hills and hollows when you drove over it.

During those three hours, hours, they passed not one human habitation after the first five miles were behind them. There had been a ranch, back there against a reddish-yellow bluff. Val had gazed upon it, and then turned her head away, distressed because human beings could consent to live in such unattractive surroundings. It was bad in its way as hope, she thought, but did not say, because Manley was talking about his cattle, and she did not want to interrupt him. After that there had been no houses of any sort. There was a barbed-wire fence stretching away and away until the posts were mere pencil lines against the blue where the fence

dipped over the last hill before the sky bent down and kissed the earth. The length of that fence was appalling in a vague, wordless way. Val unconsciously drew closer to her husband when she looked at it, and shivered in spite of the midsummer heat. You're getting tired, Manley put his arm around her and held her there. We're over halfway now, a little longer and we'll be home. Then he bethought him that she might want some preparation for that homecoming. You mustn't expect much, little wife. It's a bachelor's house so far.

You'll have to do some fixin before it'll suit you. You don't look forward to anything like Fern Hill, do you? Val laughed and bent solicitously over the suitcase, which her feet had marred. Of course I don't. Nothing out here is like Fern Hill. I know our ranch is different from anything I ever knew, but I know just how it will be and how everything will look. Oh, do you? Manly looked at her a bit anxiously.

For three years, Val reminded him, you have been describing things to me. You told me what it was like when you first took the place. You described everything, from cold spring coolly to the house you built, and the spring under the rock wall, and even the meadow larks nest you found in the weeds. Of course I know. It's going to seem pretty rough at first, he observed rather apologetically. Yes, but I shall not mind that. I want it to be rough. I'm tired to death of the smug smoothness of my life so far. Oh, if you only knew how I have hated Fern Hill these last three years, especially since I graduated. Just the same pretty little lives lived in the same pretty little way, day in and day out. Every Sunday, the class in Sunday school, and the bell's ringing. and the same little walk of four blocks there and back every tuesday and friday the club meeting the merry-maids and the mascot both just alike where you did the same things

and the same round of calls with mamma on the same people twice a month a year around and the little social festivities ah manly if you only knew how i longed for something rough and real in my life it was very nearly what she said to the tired-faced teacher on the train well if that's what you want you've come to the right place he told her dryly later when they drew close to a red coolly rim which he said was the far side of cold spring coolly she forgot how tired she was and felt every nerve quiver with eagerness later still when in the glare of a july sun they drove around a low knoll dipped into a wide parched coolly and then came upon a barren little habitation enclosed in a meagre fence of the barbed wire she thought so detestable she shut her eyes mentally to something she could not quite bring herself to face. He lifted her out and tumbled the great trunks upon the ground before he drove on to the corrals. "'Here's the key,' he said, "'if you want to go in. "'I won't be more than a minute or two.'

He did not look into her face when he spoke. Val stood just inside the gate and tried to adjust all this to her mental picture. there was the front yard for instance a few straggling vines against the porch and a sickly cluster or two of blossoms those were the sweet pea surely the sun-baked bed of pale green plants without so much as a bud of promise she recognized after a second glance as the poppies for the rest there were weeds against the fence sun-ripened grass trodden flat yellow gravelly patches where nothing grew and a glaring burning sun beating down upon it all the cottage never afterward did she think of it by that name but always as a shack was built of boards placed perpendicularly with batons nailed over the cracks to keep out the wind and the snow at one side was a lean-to kitchen and on the other side was the porch that was just a narrow platform with a roof over it it was not wide enough for a rocking-chair to say nothing of swinging a hammock in the first hasty inspection this seemed to be about all she was still hesitating before the door when manly came back from putting up the horses i'm afraid your flowers are a lost cause he remarked cheerfully they were looking pretty good two or three weeks ago this hot weather has dried them up

next year we'll have water down here to the house all these things take time oh of course they do val managed to smile into his eyes let's see how many dishes you left dirty bachelors always leave their dishes unwashed on the table don't they sometimes but i generally wash mine he led the way into the house which smelled hot and close with the order of food long since cooked and eaten before he threw all the windows open. The front room was clean, after a man's idea of cleanliness. The floor was covered with an exceedingly dusty carpet and a rug or two. Her latest photograph was nailed to the wall, and when Val saw it, she broke into hysterical laughter. "'You've nailed your colors to the mast,' she cried,

and after that it was all a joke. The homemade couch, with the calico cushions and the cowhide spread, was a matter for mirth. She sat down upon it to try it, and was informed that chicken wire makes a fine spring. The rickety table, with tobacco, magazines, and books placed upon it in orderly piles, was something to smile over. The chairs, and especially the ones,

one cane rocker which went sideways over the floor if you rocked in it long enough were pronounced original in the kitchen the same masculine idea of cleanliness and order obtained the stove was quite red but it had been swept clean the table was pushed against the only window there and the back part was filled with glass preserve jars cans and a loaf of bread wrapped carefully in paper. But the oil cloth cover was clean. Did it not show quite plainly the marks of the last washing? Two frying pans were turned bottom up on an obscure table in an obscure corner of the room, and a zinc water pail stood beside them. There were other details which impressed themselves upon her shrinking brain, and though she still insisted upon smiling at everything, she stood in the middle of the room holding up her skirts quite unconsciously, as if she were standing at a muddy street crossing, wondering how in the world she was ever going to reach the other side.

Isn't it all deliciously primitive? she asked in a weak little voice, when the smile would stay no longer. I love it, dear. That was a lie. More, she was not in the habit of fibbing for the sake of politeness or anything else. so that the word stood for a good deal. Manly looked into the zinc water pail, took it up, and started for an outer door, rattling the tin dipper as he went. Want to go up to the spring? He queried over his shoulder.

Water's the first thing. I'm horribly thirsty. Val turned to follow him. Oh, yes, the spring. She stopped, however, as soon as she had no dear there'll be plenty of other times i'll stay here he gave her a glance bright with love and blind happiness in her presence there and went off whistling and rattling the pail at his side val did not even watch him go she stood still in the kitchen and looked at the table and at the stove and at the upturned frying pans she watched two great horseflies buzzing against her a window pane, and when she could endure that no longer, she went into the front room and stared

vacantly around at the bare walls. When she saw her picture again, nailed fast beside the kitchen door, her face lost a little of its frozen blankness, enough so that her lips quivered until she bit them into steadiness. She went then to the door and stood looking dully out into the parched yard and at the wizened little pea vines clutching feebly at their white twine trellis beyond stretched the bare hills with the wavering brown line running down the nearest one the line that she knew was the trail from town she was guilty of just one rebellious sentence before she struggled back to optimism i said i wanted it to be rough but i didn't mean why this is just squal She looked down the coolly and glimpsed the river flowing calmly past the mouth of it, a majestic blue belt fringed sparsely with green. It must be a mile away, but it relieved wonderfully the monotony of brown hills,

and the vivid coloring brightened her eyes. She heard Manley enter the kitchen, set down the pail of water, and come to where she stood. I'd forgotten you said we could see the river, from here, she told him, smiling over her shoulder. It's beautiful, isn't it? I don't suppose, though, there's a boat within millions of miles. Oh, there's a boat down there.

It leaks, though. I just use it for ducks, close to shore. Admiring our view? Great, don't you think? Val clasped their hands before her, and let her gaze travel again over the sweep of rugged hills. It's wonderful. I thought I knew, but I see I didn't.

I feel very small, manly. Does one ever grow up to it? He seemed dimly to catch the note of utter desolation. You'll get used to all that, he assured her. I thought I'd reach the jumping-off place at first, but now you couldn't dog me out of the country. He was slipping into the... vernacular, and Val noticed it, and wondered dully if she would ever do likewise.

She had not yet admitted to herself that Manly was different. She had told herself many times that it would take weeks to wipe out the strangeness born of three years' separation. He was the same, of course, everything else was new and different. That was all? He seemed intensely practical, and he seemed to feel that his love making had all been done by letter, and that nothing now remained save the business of living. So, when he told her to rest, and that he would get dinner and show her how a bachelor kept house, she let him go with no reply, save that vague, impersonal smile, which Kent had encountered at the depot. While he rattled things about in the kitchen, she stood still in the doorway,

with her fingers doubled into tight little fists and stared out over the great treeless unpeopled land which had swallowed her alive. She tried to think, and then, in another moment, she was trying not to think. Glancing quickly over her shoulder, to make sure Manly was too busy to follow her, she went off the porch and stood uncertain in the parched enclosure,

which was the front yard. may as well see it all and be done, she whispered, and went stealthily around the corner of the house, holding up her skirt as she had done in the kitchen. There was a dim path beaten in the wiry grass, a path which started at the kitchen door and wand away up the coolly. She followed it. Undoubtedly, it would lead her to the spring. Beyond that, she refused to let her thoughts travel. In five minutes, for she went slowly, she stopped beside a stock-trapled pool of water and yellow mud. A few steps farther on,

a barrel had been sank into the ground at the base of a huge gray rock, a barrel which filled slowly and spilled the overflow into the mud. There was also a trough, and there was a barrier made of poles and barbed wire to keep the cattle from the barrel. One crawled between two wires, it would seem, to dip up water for the house. There were no trees, not real trees.

There were some choke cherry bushes higher than her head, and there were other bushes that did not look particularly enlivening. With a smile of bitter amusement, she tucked her skirts tightly around her, crept through the fence, and filled a chipped granite cut. cup which stood upon a rock ledge and drank slowly. Then she laughed aloud.

The water really is cold, she said. Anywhere else it would be delicious, and that's a spring, I suppose. Mercilessly, she was stripping her mind of her illusions and was clothing it in a harsher weave of reality. All these hills are manlies, our ranch. she took another sip and set down the cup and so cold springs ranch means all this down the coolly she heard manly call she stood still pushing back a fallen lock of fine yellow hair she turned toward the sound and the sun in her eyes turned them yellow as the hair above them she was beautiful in an odd white and gold way

if her eyes had been blue or gray or even brown she would have been merely pretty but as they were that amber tint where one looked for something else struck one unexpectedly and made her whole face seem unforgettably lovely however the color of her eyes and her hair did not interest her then or make life any easier she was quite ordinarily miserable and homesick as she went reluctantly back along the grassy trails the odor of fried bacon came up to her and she hated bacon she hated everything i've been down to the spring she called out resolutely cheerful as soon as she came in sight of manly waiting in the kitchen door. She ran toward him lightly. However, does the water keep so deliciously cool through this hot weather? I don't wonder you call this Cold Spring Ranch. Manly straightened proudly. I'm glad you like it. I was afraid you might not, just at first, but you're the right stuff. I might have known it. Not every woman could come out here and appreciate this country right at the start. Val stopped at the steps, panting a little from her run, and smiled unflinchingly

up into his face. End of Chapter 5. Chapter 6 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. B. M. B. B. M. B. This Liber Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 6 Manley's Fire Guard Hot Sunlight Winds as Hot, A shimmering heat which distorted objects at a distance And made the skyline a dazzling, wavering ribbon of faded blue

And then the dull haze of smoke which hung over the land And without tempering the heat Turned the sun into a huge coppery balloon which drifted imperceptibly from the east to the west, and at evening time settled softly down upon a parched hilltop and disappeared, leaving behind it an ominous red glow as of hidden fires. When the wind blew, the touch of it seared the face, as the smoke tang assailed the nostrils.

All the world was a weird unnatural tint, hard to name, never to be forgotten. The far horizons drew steadily closer as the days passed slowly and thickened the veil of smoke. The distant mountains drew daily back into dimmer distance, became an obscure formless blot against the sky, and vanished completely. The horizon crouched then upon the bluffs across the river, moved up to the line of trees along its banks, blotted them out one day, and impudently astounded.

established itself halfway up the coolly. Time ceased to be measured accurately. Events moved slowly in an unreal world of sultry heat and smoke, and a red sun wading heavily through the copper-brown sky from the east to the west, and a moon as red which followed meekly after. Men rode uneasily here and there, and when they met they talked of prairie fires and of fire guards, and the direction of the wind and of the faint prospect of rain.

Cattle, driven from their accustomed feeding grounds, wandered aimlessly over the still unburned range and loat often in the night as they drifted before the flame-heated wind. Fifteen miles to the east of cold-spurring coolly, the wishbone outfit watched uneasily the deepening haze. Kent and Bob Royden were put to run. riding the range from the river north and west, and polycarp Jenks, who had taken a claim where it were good water and some shelter, and who never seemed to be there for more than a few hours

at a time, because of his boundless curiosity, wandered about on his great raw-bones sorrel with the white legs, and seemed always to have the latest fire-news on the tip of his tongue, and always eager to impart it to somebody. To the northwest there was the double diamond, also sleeping with both eyes open, so to speak. They also had two men out watching the range, though the fires were said to be all across the river. But there was the railroad seeming the country straight through the grassland, and though the company was prompt at plowing fireguards, contract work would always bear watching, said the stockman,

and with the high winds that prevailed there was no telling what might happen. So Fred de Garmo and Bill Madison patrolled the country in rather desultory fashion, if the truth be known. They liked best to ride to the north and east, which, while following faithfully the railroad and the danger line, would bring them eventually to hope, where they never failed to stop as long as they dared. for although they never analyzed their feelings they knew that as long as they kept their jobs and their pay was forthcoming a few miles of blackened range concerned them personally not at all still barring a fondness for the trail which led to town they were not unfaithful to their trust one day kent and polycarp met on the brink of a deep coolly and as is the way of men who ride the dim trails they stopped to talk a bit polycarp cracking his face across the middle with his habitual grin straightened his right leg to its full length slid his hand with difficulty into his pocket brought up a dirty fragment of plug tobacco looked it over inquiringly and pried off the corner with his teeth when he had rolled it comfortably into his cheek and had straightened his leg and replaced the tobacco in his pocket he was all set and ready for

conversation. Kent had taken the opportunity to roll a cigarette, though smoking in the range was a weakness to be indulged in with much care. He pinched out the blaze of his match, as usual, and then spat upon it for added safety before throwing it away. "'If this heat doesn't let up,' he remarked, "'the grass is going to blaze up from sunburn.' "'It won't need to, if you ask me. I wouldn't be surprised. I wouldn't be surprised. to see this whole range of fire any time. Between you and me, Kenneth, them double diamond fellers ain't watching it as close as they might. I was away over Dry Creek Way yesterday,

and I seen where there was two different fires got through the company's guards and kighted off across the country. It just happened that the grass give out in that red day soil and starved them both out. They wouldn't put out. i looked close all around and there wasn't nary a track of man or horse that's their business riding line on the railroad the section men's been working off down the other way where a culvert got scorched up pretty bad by granny fred and bill madison spend might nigh all their time riding the trail to town there might particular about watching the railroad between the switches He-ha. That's something for the double diamond to worry over, Kent rebuffed. He hated that sort of gossip which must speak ill of somebody.

Our winter range lays mostly south and east. We could stop a fire between here and the double diamond, even if they let one get past him. Polycarp regarded him cunningly with his little slit-like eyes. Maybe you could, he said doubtfully. and then again maybe you couldn't once it got past cold spring he shook his wizened head slowly leaned and expectorated gravely man flea woods keepin tab pretty close over that way polycarp gave a grunt that was half a chuckle man fleetwood's keeping tab on what runs down his gullet he corrected i seen him and his wife out burning guards the other day over on his west line, and by

Granny, it wouldn't stop nothing. A toad could jump it. He sent another stream of tobacco juice afar, with the grave air as before. And I told him so. Man, I says, what do you think you're doing?

Building a fire guard, he says, my wife, Mr. Jenks. Polycarp Jenks is my cognomen, I says, and I don't want no mistrin in mine. Polycarp's good enough for me, I says, and I took off my hat and bowed to his wife. Funny kind of eyes she's got. Ever take notice? Yeller, by Granny. First time I ever seen yellow eyes in a human's face. Maybe it was the

sun in them, but they sure was yeller. I don't know as they hurt her looks none either. Kind of queer looking, but when you get used to, to him, you kind of like them. And I says, Taint half-wide enough, nor a third. Spoke right up to him. I was thinking of the whole blamed country, and I didn't care how he took it. Any good able-bodied wind'll jump a fire across that guard so quick it won't realize there was any there, I says.

Man didn't like it none too well either. He says to me, That guard'll stop any fire I ever saw. and I got right back at him. Man, I says, you ain't never saw a prairie fire, just like that. You wait, I says, till the real thing comes along. We ain't had any fire since you come into the country, I says, and you don't know what they're like.

Now, you take my advice and plow another four or five furrows, and plow them out, seventy-five or a hundred feet from here, I says, and make sure you get all the grass burned off between and do it all on a still day, I says. You'll burn up the whole country if you keep on this here way you're doing, I told him, straight out, just like that. And when you do it, I says, you better let somebody know so they can come and help, I says.

Taint any job a man ought to tackle a loan, I says to him. Get help, man, get help. Well, by granny, Man's wife bruscled up at me like a... He searched his brain for a simile and failed to find one. I have been helping manly, Mr. Polycarp Jenks, she says to me, and I flatter myself I have done as well as any man could do. And by Granny, the way them yellow eyes of her and blazed at me.

I had to laugh just to look at her. dressed just like a city girl by granny with ruffles on her skirts to catch a fire if she wasn't mighty careful and a big straw hat tied down with a veil and kid gloves on her hands and her yellow hair kind of falling around her face and them yell her eyes snapping like flames by granny if she didn't make as pretty a picture as i ever want to set eyes on slim and straight just like a story-book woman ha ha ha course she was all smoking dirt a big flake of burned grass was on her hair i took notice and them ruffles was black up to her knees and she had a big smut on her cheek but she was right there with her stack of blues by granny settin into the game like a-a he leaned and spat but burning guards ain't no work for a woman to do, and I told man so, straight out. You get help, I says. I see your mightnere through with this here strip, I says, and I'm in a hurry, or I'd stay right now. And by, Granny, if that there wife of man's didn't up and hit me another biff, ha.

Thank you very much, she says to me like ice water. When we need your help, we'll be sure to let you know. But at present, she says, We couldn't think of troubling you. And then, by Granny, she turns right around and smiles up at me. Made me feel like somebody tickled my ear with a spear of hay when I was asleep, by Granny.

Never felt anything like it, not just with somebody smiling at me. Polycarb jenks, she says to me, we do appreciate what you've told us, and I believe you're wrong. she says but don't insinuate i'm not as good a fighter as any man who ever breathed she says manly has another of his headaches to-day going to town always gives him a sick headache she says and i've done nearly all of this on my own lone self she says and i'm horribly proud of it and i'll never forgive you for saying i-and then by granny if she didn't begin to blink them eyes and i felt like a-i a-i'll never forgive you for saying i-i and then by granny if she didn't begin to blink them eyes and i felt like a-i'll Uh, he put the usual period to his hesitation.

Between you and me, Kenneth, he added, looking at Kent Slyly, She ain't having none too easy a time. Man's gone back to drinking. I know it all the time he wouldn't stay braced up very long. Lasted about six weeks from all I can hear. Maybe she really thinks it's just headaches ails him when he comes back from town. I don't know. you can't never tell what ideas a woman got tacked away under her hair from all i can gather i don't pretend to know nothin about em don't want to know

but i guess he hinted cunningly i know as much about him as you do hey kenneth you don't seem to chase after him none yourself whereabouts did man run his guards asked kent passing over the invitation to personal confessions polycarp gave a grunt of disdain just on the west rim of his coolly about forty rod of six-foot guard and slanted so it'll shoot a fire right into high grass at the head of the coolly and send it kicking over this way that's supposing it turns a fire which it won't six feet a fall like this here why i never see grass so thick on this range did you i wonder did he burn that extra guard kent was keeping himself rigidly to the subject of real importance no by granny he didn't not unless he'd done it since yesterday he went to town for somethin and he mightn't i forgot to go home he was there yesterday about three o'clock and i says to him well so long i gotta be moving kent gathered up the reins and went his way leaving polycarp just in the act of drawing his plug from his pocket by his usual laborious method in mental preparation for another half-hour of talk. If you're riding over that way, Kenneth, you better take a look at man's guard, he called

after him. A good mile of guard, along there, would help a lot if a fire got started beyond. The way he fixed it, it ain't no account at all. Kent proved by a gesture that he heard him and rode on without turning to look back. Already his form was blurred as Polycarp gazed after him, and in another minute or two he was blotted out completely by the smoke veil, though he rode upon the level.

Polycarp watched him craftily, though there was no need, until he was completely hidden. Then he went on, ruminating upon the faults of his acquaintances. Kent had no intention of riding over to Cold Spring. He had not been there since Manley's marriage, though he had been a frequent

visitor before, and unless necessity drove him there, it would be long before he faced again the antagonism of Mrs. Fleetwood. Still, he was mentally uncomfortable, and he felt much resentment against polycarb jenks because he had caused that discomfort. What was it to him if Manley had gone back to drinking? He asked the question more than once, and he answered always that it was nothing to him, of course. Still, he wished futilely that he had not been quite so eager to cover up Manley's weakness and deceive the girl. He ought to have given her a chance. A cinder, like a huge black snowflake, struck him suddenly upon the cheek. He looked up, startled, and tried to see farther down into the haze, which closed him round it. It seemed to him,

now that his mind was turned from his musings, that the smoke was thicker, the smell of burning grass stronger, and the breath of wind hotter upon his face. He turned, looked away to the west, fancied there was a tumbled blackness new to his sight, and put his horse to a run. If they were fire close, then every second counted, and as he raced over the uneven prairie, he fumbled with the saddle string that held a sodden sack tied fast to the saddle that he might lose no time. The cinders grew thicker until the air was filled with them, like a snowstorm done in India ink. A little farther, and he heard a faint crackling, topped a ridge and saw not far ahead a dancing yellow line. His horse was breathing heavily with the pace he was keeping, but can't.

Swinging away from the onrush of flame and heat, spurred him to a greater speed. They neared the end of the crackling red line, and as Kent swung in behind it, upon the burned ground, he saw several men beating steadily at the flames. He was hardly at work when Polycarp came running up and took his place beside him. But beyond that, Kent paid no attention to the others, though he heard and recognized, the voice of Fred de Garmo calling out to someone. The smoke which rolled up in uneven volumes as the wind lifted it and bore it away,

or let it suck backward as it veered for an instant, blinded him while he fought. He heard other men gallop up, and after a little someone clattered up with a wagon filled with barrels of water. He ran to wet his sack and saw that it was Blumenthal himself. foreman of the double diamond who drove the team.

"'Lucky, it ain't as windy as it was yesterday "'in the day before,' Blumenthal cried out, "'as Kent stepped upon the brake block to reach a barrel. "'It'd sweep the whole country if it was!' Kent nodded and ran back to the fire, trailing the dripping sack after him. As he passed Polycarp and another, he heard Polycarp saying something about Man Fleetwood's fire guard,

but he did not stop to hear what it was. Polycarp was always talking, and he didn't always keep too closely to facts. Then, of a sudden, he saw men dimly when he glanced down the leaping fire line, and he knew that the fire was almost conquered. Another frenzied minute or two, and he was standing in a group of men, who dropped their charred, blackened fragments of blankets and bags

and began to feel for their smoking material, while they stamped upon stray embers, which looked live enough to be dangerous. "'Well, she's out,' said a voice. "'But it did look for a while as if it'd get away in spite of us.' Kent turned away, wiping an eye which held a cinder fast under the lid. It was Fred de Garmo who sped. spoke. If somebody had been watching the railroad a little might closer, Polycarp began,

in his thin, rasping voice, Fred cut him short. I thought you laid it to Man Fleetwood, burning fire guards, he retorted. Keep on, and you'll get it right pretty soon. This never come from the railroad. You can gamble on that. Blumenthal had left his team and come among them. if you want to know how it started i can tell you somebody dropped a match or a cigarette or something by the trail up hereaways i saw where it started when i went to cold spring after the last load of water and if i knew who it was polycarp launched his opinion first as usual well i don't know whodunit but by granny i can might well guess who it was there's just one man that i know of been traveling that trail lately when he wasn't in his sober senses here manly fleetwood rode up to them coughing at the soot his horse kicked up say you fellows come on over to the house and have something to eat and he added significantly something wet i told my wife when i saw the fire to make plenty of coffee for fightin fire for fightin fire

's hungry work let me tell come on no hanging back you know there'll be lots of coffee and i've got a quart of something better cashed in the haystack as he had said fighting fire is hungry work and none save bloominthal who was dyspeptic and only ate twice a day and then of certain foods prepared by himself declined the invitation end of chapter six chapter seven of lonesome land by b m b b bower this liber vogue's recording is in the public domain chapter seven val's new duties to val the days of heat and smoke and the isolation had made life seem unreal like a dream which holds one fast and yet is absurd and utterly improbable her past was pushed so far from her that she could not even long for it as she had done during the first few weeks there were nights of utter desolation when manly was in town upon some errand which prevented his speedy return nights when the coyotes howled much louder than usual and she could not sleep for the mysterious snapping and creaking about the shack but lay shivering with fear until dawn but not for worlds would she have admitted to manly her dread of staying alone she believed it to be necessary or he would not require it of her and she wanted to be all that he expected her to be she was very sensitive in those days about doing her whole duty as a wife the wife of a western rancher for that reason when manly shouted to her the news of the fire as he galloped past the shack and told her that reason when manley shouted to her the news of the fire as he galloped past the shack and told her that reason when manly shouted to her the news of the shack and told her,

and told her to have something for the men to eat when the fire was out she never thought of demurring or explaining to him that there was scarcely any wood and that she could not cook a meal without fuel instead she waved her hand to him and let him go and when he was quite out of sight she went up to the corrals to see if she could find another useless pole or a broken board or two which her slight strength would be sufficient to break up with the axe till she came to montana val had never taken an axe in her hands but its use was only one of the many things she must learn of which she had all her life been ignorant there was an old post there lying beside a rusty overturned plow more than once she had stopped and eyed it speculatively and the day before she had gone so far as to lift an end of it tentatively but she had found it very heavy and she had also disturbed a lot of black bugs that went scurrying here and there so that she was forced to gather her skirts close about her and run for her life where manley had built his hay rack she had yesterday discovered some ends of planking hidden away in the rank ripened weeds and grass she went there now but there were no more look closely as she might she circled the evil-smelling stable in discouragement picked up one short piece of rotten board and came back to the post as she neared it she involuntarily caught her skirts and held them close in terror of the black bugs she eyed it with extreme disfavor and finally ventured to poke it with her slipper toe one long bugs scuttled out and away in the tall weeds

with the piece of board she turned it over stared hard at the yellowed grass beneath discovered nothing so very terrifying after all and in pure desperation dragged the post laboriously down to the place where had been the place where had been the woodpile. Then, lifting the heavy axe, she went awkwardly to work upon it, and actually succeeded in the course of an hour or so in worrying an armful of splinters off it. She started a fire, and then she had to take the big zinc pail and carry some water down from the spring, before she could really begin to cook anything. Manley's work, every bit of it, but then Manley was so very busy, and he could. couldn't remember all these little things, and Val hated to keep reminding him. Theoretically, Manly objected to her chopping wood or carrying water, and always seemed to feel

a personal resentment when he discovered her doing it. Practically, however, he was more and more often making it necessary for her to do these things. That is why he returned with the firefighters, and found Val just laying the cloth upon the table, which she had moved into the front room, so that there would be space to seat her guests at all four sides. He frowned when he looked in and saw that they must wait indefinitely, and her cheeks took on a deeper shade of pink. "'Everything will be ready in ten minutes,' she hurriedly assured him.

"'How many are there, dear?' "'eight, counting myself,' he answered gruffly. get some clean towels and we'll go up to the spring to wash and try to have dinner ready when we get back we're half starved with the towels over his arm he led the way up to the spring he must have taken the trail which led past the haystack for he returned in much better humor and introduced the men to his wife with the genial air of a host who loves to entertain largely val stood back and watched them file into the table and seat themselves with a noisy confusion unpolished they were in clothes and manner though she dimly appreciated the way in which they refrained from looking at her too intently and the conscious lowering of their voices while they talked among themselves they did however glance at her surreptitiously while she was moving quietly about with her flushed cheeks and her yellow-brown hair falling becomingly down at the temples because she had not found a spare minute in which to brush it smooth and her dainty dress and crisp white apron she was not like the women they were accustomed to meet and they paid her the high tribute of being embarrassed by her presence she poured coffee until all the cups were full replenished the bread-plate and brought more butter and hunted the kitchen over for the can-opener to punch her

little holes in another can of condensed cream, and she rather astonished her guests by serving it in a beautiful cut-glass pitcher instead of the can in which it was bought. They handled the pitcher awkwardly because of their mental uneasiness, and Val shared with them their fear of breaking it, and was guilty of an audible sigh of relief when at last it found safely upon the table. So perturbed was she that even when she decided that she could be able to be able to be able to could do no more for their comfort, and retreated to the kitchen, she failed to realize that the one extra plate meant an absent guest, and not a miscount in placing them, as she fancied.

She remembered that she would need plenty of hot water to wash all those dishes, and the zinc pail was empty. It always was, it seemed to her, no matter how often she filled it. she took the tin dipper out of it so that it would not rattle and betray her purpose to manly sitting just inside the door with his back toward her and tiptoed quite guiltily out of the kitchen once well away from the shack she ran she reached the spring quite out of breath and she actually bumped into a man who stood carefully rinsing a blood-stained handkerchief under the overflow from the horse trough she gave a little scream and the pail went rolling noisily down the steep bank and lay on its side in the mud kent turned and looked at her himself rather startled by the unexpected collision involuntarily he threw out his hand to steady her how do you do mrs fleetwood he said with all the composure he could muster to his aid i'm afraid i scared you my nose got to bleed with the heat, I guess. I just now managed to stop it. He did not consider it necessary to explain his presence, but he did feel that talking would help her recover her breath and her color.

"'It's a plum nuisance to have the nosebleed so much,' he added plaintively. Val was still trembling and staring at him with her odd yellow-brown eyes. He glanced at her swiftly and then bent to squeeze the water from his handkerchief. But his trained eyes saw her in all her dainty allurement, saw how the coppery sunlight gave a strange glint to her hair, and how her eyes almost matched it in color, and how the pupils had widened with fright. He saw, too, something wistful in her face,

as though life was none too kind to her, and she had not yet abandoned her first sensation of pain, surprised that it should treat her so. "'That's what I get for running,' she said, still panting a little as she watched him. "'I thought all the men were at the table, you see. Your dinner will be cold, Mr. Burnett.' Kent was a bit surprised at the absence of cold oterre in her manner.

His memory of her had been so different. "'Well, I'm used to cold grub,' he smiled over his shoulder. and anyway when your nose gets to acting up with you it's like riding a pitching horse you've got to pass up everything and give it all your time and attention then with the daring that sometimes possessed him like a devil he looked straight at her sure you intend to give me my dinner he quizzed his lips lifting humorously at the corners i kind of thought from the way you turned me down cold when we met before you'd shut your door in my face if i came pestering around how about that little flames of light nickered in her eyes you are the guest of my husband here by his invitation she answered him coldly of course i shall give you your dinner if you want any he inspected his handkerchief critically decided that it was not quite clean and held it again under the stream of water. If I want it, yes, he drawled maliciously.

Maybe I'm not sure about that part. Are you a pretty fair cook? Perhaps you'd better interview your friends, she retorted. If you are so very fastidious, I... She drew her brows together, as if she was in doubt as to the proper... or method of dealing with this impertinence. She suspected he was teasing her purposely, but still— "'Oh, I can eat most any old thing,' he assured her, with calm effrontery.

"'You look as if you'd learn easy, and man ain't the worst cook I ever ate after. If he's trained you faithful, maybe it'll be safe to take a change. How about that? Can you make sourdough bread yet?' no she flung the word at him and i don't want to learn she added at the expense of her dignity kent shook his head disapprovingly that sure ain't the proper spirit to show he commented man must have to beat you up a good deal if you talk back to him that way he eyed her sidelong you're a real little wolf aren't you he shook his head head again solemnly and sighed. A fellow sure must build himself lots of trouble when he annexes a wife,

a wife that won't learn to make sourdough bread, and that talks back. I'm plumsorry for man. We used to be pretty good friends. He stopped short, his face contrite. Val was looking away, and she was winking very fast. Also, her lips were quivering, unmistakable. though she was biting them to keep them steady. Kent stared at her helplessly.

"'Say, I never thought you'd mind a little joshing,' he said gently, when the silence was growing awkward. "'I ought to be killed. You—you must get awful lonesome.' She turned her face toward him quickly, as if he were the first person who had understood her blank loneliness. That, she told him, in an odd hesitating manner, atones for the joshing. No one seems to realize,

Why don't you get out and ride around or do something besides stick right here in this coolly, like a cactus, he demanded, with a roughness that somehow was grateful to her? I'll bet you haven't been a mile from the ranch since man brought you here. why don't you go to town with him when he goes it'd be a whole lot better for you for both of you have you got acquainted with any of the women here yet i'll gamble you haven't he was waving the handkerchief gently like a flag to dry it val watched him she had never seen anyone hold a handkerchief by the corners and wave it up and down like that for quick drying and the expedient interested her even even while she was wondering if it was quite proper for him to lecture her in that manner.

His scolding was even more confusing than his teasing. "'I've been down to the river twice,' she defended weakly, and was angry with herself that she could not find words with which to quell him. "'Really?' he downed her indulgently. "'How did you ever manage to get so far? It must be all of half a mile.' oh you're perfectly horrible she flashed suddenly i don't see how it can possibly concern you whether i go anywhere or not it does though i'm a lot public-spirited i hate to see taxes go up and every lunatic that goes to the asylum costs the state just that much more i don't know an easier recipe for going crazy than just to stay off alone and think it's a fright the way

way it gets sheep herders and such. I'm such, I suppose. Kent glanced at her, approved mentally of the color in her cheeks and the angry light in her eyes, and laughed at her quite openly. There's nothing like getting good and mad once in a while to take the kinks out of your brain, he observed. And there's nothing like lonesomeness to put him in. A good fighting mad is what you need.

now and then. I'll have to put man next, I guess. He's too mild. No one could accuse you of that, she retorted, laughing a little in spite of herself. If I were a man, I should want to blacken your eyes. And she blushed hotly at being betrayed into a personality which seemed to her undignified, and what was worse, unrefined. She turned her back squarely toward him, started down the path, and remembered that she had not filled the water bucket, and that without it she could not consistently return to the house. Kent interrupted her glance, went sliding down the steep bank, and recovered the pail.

He was laughing to himself while he rinsed and filled it at the spring, but he made no effort to explain his amusement. When he came back to where she stood watching him, Val gave her head a slight downward tilt to indicate her thanks, turned, and led the way back to the house without a word. And he, following after, watched her slim figure swinging slightly down the hill before him, and wondered vaguely what sort of a hell her life was going to be out here where everything was different from what she had been accustomed to, and where she did not seem to fit into the scenery, as he put it. You ought to learn to ride horse back, he advised unexpectedly. Pardon me. You ought to learn to wait until your advice is wanted, she replied calmly,

without turning her head. And she added, with a sort of defiance, I do not feel the need of either society or diversion, I assure you. i am perfectly contented that's real nice he approved there's nothing like being satisfied with what's handed out to you but though he spoke with much unconcern his tone betrayed his scepticism the others had finished eating and were sitting upon their heels in the shade of the house smoking and talking in that desultory fashion common to men just after a good meal two or three glanced rather curiously at kent and his companion and he detected the covert smile of the scandal-hungry face of polycarp jenks and also the amused twist of fred de carmo's lips he went past them without a sign of understanding set the water pail down in its proper place upon a bench inside the kitchen door tilted his hat to val who happened to be looking toward him at that moment and went to be looking toward him at that moment and went out again. What's the hurry, Kenneth?

Quizzed Polycarp when Kent started toward the corral. Follow my trail long enough and you'll find out, maybe, Kent snapped in reply. He felt that the whole group was watching him, and he knew that if he looked back and caught another glimpse of Fred de Garmo's sneering face, he would feel compelled to strike at a blow. There would be no plausible explanation, of course. and Kent was not by nature a trouble hunter and so he chose to ride away without his dinner while Polycarp was still wondering audibly what was the matter Kent passed the house on his gray called so long man with scarcely a glance at his host and speedily became a dim figure in the smoke haze he must be running away from you fred polly carp hinted grinning cunningly what you done to him hey fred answered him with an unsatisfactory scowl you sure would be wise if you found out everything you wanted to know he said contemptuously after an appreciable weight i guess we'd better be moving along bill he rose brushed off his trousers with a doubt

downward sweep of his hands and strolled toward the corrals followed languidly by bill madison as if they had been waiting for a leader the others rose also and prepared to depart polly carp proceeded in his usual laborious manner to draw his tobacco from his pocket and pry off a corner why don't you burn them guards now manly why you've got plenty of help he suggested turn turning his slit-litted eyes toward the kitchen door, where Val appeared for an instant to reach the broom which stood outside. "'Because I don't want to,' snapped Manly. "'I've got plenty to do without that.' "'Well, they ain't wide enough nor long enough, and they don't run in the right direction, if you ask me,'

Pollycarps spat solemnly off to the right. "'I don't ask you as it happens. Manly turned and went into the home. Polycarp looked quizzically at the closed door. He's mighty touchy about them guards, for a feller that thinks they're all right, he remarked, to no one in particular. Some of these days, by Granny,

he'll wish he'd took my advice. Since no one gave him the slightest attention, Polycarp did not pursue the subject further. Instead, with both ears open to catch all that was said, he trailed after the others to the corral. It was a matter of instinct as well as principle, with polycarp jenks, to let no sentence, however trivial, slip past his hearing and his memory. End of Chapter 7. Chapter 8 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. B.

B. M. B. B. B. B. B. Bower. This Liber V. R. Rovex recording is in the public don't domain. Chapter 8. The Prairie Fire A calamity expected, feared, and guarded against by a whole community does sometimes occur, and with a suddenness which finds the victims unprepared, in spite of all their elaborate precautions. Compared with the importance of saving the range from fire, it was but a trivial thing which took nearly every man who dwelt in lonesome land to town. on a certain day when the wind blew free from out the west.

They were weary of watching for the fire, which did not come licking through the prairie grass, and a special campaign train bearing a prospective president of our United States was expected to pass through hope that afternoon. Since all trains watered at the red tank by the creek, there would be a five-minute stop, during which the prospective president would stand upon the rear platform and deliver a three-minute address, a few gracious words to tickle the

self-esteem of his listeners, and would employ the other two minutes in shaking the hand of every man, woman, and child who could reach him before the train pulled out. There would be a cheer or two, given as he was born away, and there would be something to talk about afterward in the saloons. Scarce a man of them had ever seen a president, and it was worth of him. It was worth riding far to look upon a man who even hoped for so exalted a position manly went because he intended to vote for the man and called it an act of loyalty to his party to greet the candidate also because it took very little now that haying was over and work did not press to start him down the trail in the direction of hope at the bloomenthal ranch no man save the cook remained at home and he only being because he had a boil on his neck, which sapped his interest in all things else. Polycarp Jenks was in town by nine o'clock, and only one man remained at the wishbone.

That man was Kent, and he stayed because, according to his outraged companions, he was an ornery cuss, and his bump of patriotism was a hollow in his skull. Kent had told them, one and all, that he wouldn't ride 25 miles to shake hands with the deity himself, which, however, is not a verbatim report of his statement. The prospective president had not done anything so big, he said, that a man should want to break his neck getting to town just to watch him go by. He was dead sure he, for one, wasn't going to make a fool of himself over any swell-headed politician. Still, he saddled and rode with his fellows for a mile or two, and called them

unseemly names in a facetious tone, and the men of the wishbone answered his taunts with shrill yells of derision when he swung out of the trail and jogged away to the south, and finally passed out of sight in the haze which still hung depressingly over the land. oddly enough while all the able-bodied men save kent were waiting hilariously in hope to greet with enthusiasm the brief presence of the man who would feign to be their political chief the train which bore him eastward scattered fiery destruction abroad as it sped across the range four minutes late and straining to make up the time before the next stop they had thought the railroad safe at last what with the guards in the numerous burned patches where the fire had jumped the ploughed boundary and blackened the earth to the fence which marked the line of the right of way and in some places had burned beyond it took a flag-flying special train of that bitter presidential campaign to find a weak spot in the guard and to send a spark straight into the thickest bunch of wiry sand grass where the wind could fan it to a blaze and then seize it and bend the tall flame tongues until they looked around the next tuft of grass and the next and the next until the spark was grown to a long leaping line of fire sweeping eastward with a relentless rush of a tidal wave upon a low-lying beach

arline holly was perhaps the only citizen of hope who had deliberately chosen to absent herself from the crowd standing in perspiring expectation upon the depot platform she had permitted minnie the breed girl to go and had even grudgingly assented to her using a box of cornstarch as first aid to her complexion arline had not approved however of either the complexion or the occasion What you want to go and plaster your face up with starch for gets me, she had criticized, frankly. Seems to me you're homely enough without looking silly into the bargain. Nobody's going to look at you, no matter what you do. They're out to rub her at a higher mark than you be, and what they expect to see so great gets me. He ain't nothing but a man, and Land knows men is common and

and ornery enough without running like a band of sheep to see one i don't see as he's any better just because he's running for president if he gets beat he'll want to hide his head in a hole in the ground look at my walt he was the biggest man in hope and so swell-headed he wouldn't so much as pack a bucket of water all fall or chop up a tie for kinlan till the day after election and what was he then but a frazzled-out back number that everybody give the laugh till he come up and blow'd his brains out any fool can run for president it's the fellow that gets there that counts say that red-white and blue ribbon sure looks fierce on that green dress but i reckon blood will tell even if it's injun blood go on or you'll be late and have your trouble for your pay but hurry back soon's the agony's over the bread'll be ready to mix out even after the girl was gone her finery aflutter in the sweeping west wind arline muttered aloud her opinion of men and particularly of politicians who rode about in special trains and expected the homage of their fellows she was in the back yard taking her white clothes off the line when the special came puffing slow into town. To emphasize her disapproval of the whole system of politics, she turned her back square toward it and laid violent hold of a sheet. There was a smudge of cinders upon its white surface,

and it crushed crisply under her thumb, with the unmistakable feel of burned grass. Now what in time? began Arlene aloud, after the manner of women whose tongues must keep pace with her thoughts, That there feels fresh, and, with a sniff at the spot, smells fresh. With the wisdom of much experience, she faced the hot wind and sniffed again, while her eyes searched keenly the skyline,

which was the ragged top of the bluff, marking the northern boundary of the great prairie land. A trifle darker it was there, and there was a certain sullen glow discernible only to eyes trained to read the sky for warning signals of snow, fire, and flood. That's a fire, and it's this side of the river. And if it is, then the railroad set it, and there ain't a living thing to stop it. And the wind's just right. A curdled roll of smoke showed plainly for a moment in the haze. She crammed her armful of sheets into the battered willow

basket, threw two clothespins hastily toward the same receptacle, and ran. The special had just come to a stop at the depot. The cattlemen, cowboys, and townspeople were packed close around the rear of the train, their backs to the wind, and the disaster sweeping down upon them, their brown faces upturned to the sleek, carefully groomed man in the light gray suit, with the flaunting prairie sunflower ostentatiously displayed in his buttonhole and with his campaign smile upon his lips and dull boredom looking out of his eyes ladies and gentlemen he was saying as he smiled you favored ones whose happy lot it is to live in the most glorious state of our glorious union i greet you and i envy you arline with her soiled kitchen apron her ragged coil of dust-brown hair her work-drawn face and faded eyes which blazed with excitement pushed unceremoniously through the crowd and confronted him undazzled

mr candidate you better move on and give these men a chance to save their property she cried shrilly they got something to do besides stand round here and listen at you throw campaign loads. The whole country's a fire, back of us, and the wind's bringing it down on a long lope. She turned from the astounded candidate and glared at the startled crowd, every one of whom she knew personally. I must say I got my opinion of a bunch

that'll stand here swallowing a lot of hot air while their coattails is most ready to catch a fire. Her voice was rasping. and it carried to the farthest of them. You make me tired. Political slush, all of it, and the whole darned country ablazin behind you. The crowd moved uneasily,

then scattered away from the shelter of the depot to where they could snuff inquiringly the wind, like dogs in the leash. "'That's right,' yelled Blumenthal of the double diamond. "'There's a fire, sure is hell!' he started to run the man behind him hesitated but a second then gripped his hat against the push of the wind and began running presently men women and children were running all in one direction the prospective president stood agape upon the platform of his bunting-draped car his chosen allies grouped foolishly around him it was the first time men had turned from his presence with his gracious flatteringly noncommittal speech unuttered his hand unshaken his smiling bowing departure unmarked by cheers growing fainter as he receded

only arline tarried her thin fingers gripping the arm of her breed girl lest she catch the panic and run with the others arline tilted back her head upon her scrawny shoulders and eyed the prospective president with antagonism unconcealed i got something to say to you before you go she announced in her rasping voice with its querulous note i want to tell you that the chances are a hundred to one you set that fire yourself with your engine that's hauling you around over the country so you can jolly men into voting for you your train's the only one over the road since noon and that fire started from the railroad the whole town's liable to burn unless it can be stopped the other side of the creek, to say nothing of the range that feeds our stock and the hay, and maybe houses, and maybe people. She caught her breath and almost shrieked the last three words, as a dreadful probability flashed into her mind. I know a woman, just a girl, and she's back there twenty mile, alone, and her man's here to look at you go by. I hope you get beat just for that. If this town catches a fire and burns up,

I hope you run into the ditch before you get ten mile. If you was a man, and them fellers with you as men, you'd hold up your train and help save the town. Every feller counts when it comes to fight and fire. She stopped and eyed the group keenly. But you won't. I don't reckon you ever done anything with them, hands in your life that would grind a little honest dirt into your knuckles and under them shiny

nails? The prospective president turned red to his ears and hastily removed his immaculate hands from where they had been resting upon the railing. And he did not hold up the train while he and his allies stopped to help save the town? The whistle gave a warning toot, the bell jangled, and the train slid away toward the next town, leaving Arlene staring, tight-lipped after it. The darn chump! He'd have made votes hand over fist if he'd called my bluff, but I knew he wouldn't, soon as I'd seen his face.

He ain't man enough. He's real good-looking, sighed Minnie, feebly attempting to release her arm from the grasp of her mistress. And did you notice the fellow with the beckon't. big yellow mustache? He kept eye on me. Well, I don't wonder, but it ain't anything to your credit, snapped Arlene, facing her toward the hotel. You do look like sine-of-flyin' in that green dress and with all that starch on your face. You get along to the house and mix that bread, first thing you do, and start a fire.

And if I ain't back by that time, you go ahead with a supper. You know what to get. We're liable to have all the tables full, so you set all of them. She was hurrying away when the girl called to her. Did you mean Miss Fleetwood when you said that about the woman burning? And do you suppose she's really in the fire? You shut up and go along, cried Arlene roughly, under the stress of her own fears. How in times anybody's going to tell, that's twenty miles?

away. She left the street and went hurrying through backyards and across vacant lots, crawled through a wire fence, and so reached, without any roundabout method, the trail which led to the top of the bluff, where the whole town was breathlessly assembling. Her flat-chested, uncorseted figure merged into the haze as she half-trotted up the steep road, swinging her arms like a man, her skirts flapping in the wind. As she went, she kept muttering to herself, "'If she really is caught by the fire, and her alone, and man, more than half drunk!' She whirled and stood waiting for the horseman, who was galloping up the trail behind her. "'You going home, man? You don't think it could get to your place, do you?'

She shouted the question at him as he pounded past. Manly, sallow white with terror, shook his head vaguely and swung his heavy quirt down upon the flanks of his horse. Arlene lowered her head against the dust kicked into her face as he went tearing past her and kept doggedly on. Someone came rattling up behind her with empty barrels dancing erratically in a wagon, and she left the trail to make room. The hustler from their own stable it was who drove, and at the creek ahead of them he stopped to fill the barrels. Arlene passed him by and kept on. At the brow of the hill, the women and children were gathered in a whimpering group.

Arlene joined them and gazed out over the prairie, where the smoke was rolling toward them, and, lifting here and there, let a flare of yellow through. "'It'll show up fine at dark,' a fat woman in a buggy remarked. There's nothing grander to look at than a prairie fire at night. I do hope, she added weakly, it don't do no great damage. Oh, it won't, Arlene cut in with savage sarcasm, panting from her climb.

It's bound to sweep the whole country slick and clean, and maybe burn us all out, but that won't matter, so long as it looks pretty after dark. They say it's a good ten-mile-o'-mile-o'-one. away yet another woman volunteered encouragingly they'll get it stopped all right there's lots of men here to fight it thank goodness arline moved on to where a plow was being hurriedly uploaded from a wagon the horses hitched to it and a man already grasping the handles in an aggressive manner as she came up he went off yelling his opinions and turning a shallow uneven furrow for a back fire within five minutes another plough was tearing up the sod in an opposite direction if it jumps here or they can't turn it the creak'll help a lot someone was yelling the ploughed furrows lengthened the horses sweating and throwing their heads up and down with the discomfort of the pace they must keep whiplashes whistled and the drivers urged them on with much shouting

blumenthal cut off with his men from reaching his own ranch was directing a group about to set a backfire his voice boomed as if he were shouting across a milling herd a roll of his eye brought his attention momentarily from the work and he ran toward a horseman who was gesticulating wildly and seemed on the point of riding straight toward the fire hi fleetwood we need you here he yelled you can't get home now and you know it the fires passed your place already you'd have to ride through it you fool hey your wife's home alone alone he stood absolutely still and stared out to the southwest where the smoke cloud was rolling closer with every breath he drew his fingers across his forehead and glanced at the men around him also stunned into inactivity by the tragedy behind the words well get to work men we've got to save the town find time to burn guards when a fire's loping up on you but that's the way it goes generally this ought to have been done a month ago put it off and put it off while they haggle over bids brinburgh you and i'll string the fire the rest of you watch it don't jump back and say he shouted from the group around manly don't let that crazy fool start off now put him to work best thing for him but my god that's awful he did not shout the last sentence he spoke so that only the nearest man heard him heard and nodded dumb assent manly raged sitting helpless there upon his horse they would not let him ride out toward that sweeping wave of fire he could not have gone five miles toward home before he met the flames

he stood in the stirrups and shook his fists impotently he strained his eyes to see what it was impossible for him to see his ranch and val and how they had fared he pictured mentally the guard he had burned beyond the coolly to protect them from just this danger and his heart squeezed tight at the realization of his own shiftlessness that guard a twelve-foot strip of half-burned sod with tufts of grass left standing here and there and he had meant to burn it wider and had put it off from just day to day until now now his clenched fist dropped upon the saddle-horn and he stared dully at the rushing rolling smoke and fire it was not that he saw it was val with cinder blackened ruffles grimy face and yellow hair falling in loose locks upon her cheeks locks which she must stop to push out of her eyes so that she could see where to swing the sodden sack while she helped him him manly who had permitted her to work it for none but a man's hard muscles so that he might finish the sooner and ride to town upon some flimsy pretext and he could not even reach her now or the place where she had been the group had thinned around him for there was something to do besides give sympathy to a man bereaved. Unless they bestirred themselves,

they might all be in need of sympathy before the day was done. Manley took his eyes from the coming fire and glanced around him, saw that he was alone, and, with a despairing oath, wheeled his horse, and raced back down the hill to town,

as if fiends rode behind the saddle. At the saloon opposite the Holly Hotel, he drew up, rather his horse stopped there of his own accord as if he were quite at home at that particular hitching pole manly dismounted heavily and lurched inside the place was deserted save for jim who was paid to watch the wares of his employer and was now standing upon a chair at the window that he might see over the top of holly's coal shed and glimpse the hilltop beyond jim stepped down and came toward him how's the fire he demanded anxiously think she'll swing over this way but manly had sunk into a chair and buried his face in his arms folded upon a whisky spotted card-table val my val he wailed back there alone get me a drink he added thickly or i'll go crazy jim hastily poured a full glass and stood over him anxiously here it is drink or down and brace up what you mean is your wife manly lifted his head long enough to gulp the whisky then dropped it again upon his arms and groaned

end of chapter eight chapter nine of lonesome land by b m b b bower this libervox recording is in the public domain chapter nine kent to the rescue the fire had been burning a possible half-hour when kent jogging aimlessly toward a log ridge with the lazy notion of riding to the top and taking a look at the country to the west before returning to the ranch, first smelled the stronger tang of burned grass, and swung instinctively into the wind. He galloped to higher ground, and, trained by long watching of the prairie to detect the smoke of a nearer fire in the haze of those long distant, saw at once what must have happened, and knew also the danger. His horse was fresh, and he raced him over the uneven prairie toward the blaze. It was tearing straight across the high ground between dry creek and cold spring coolly when he first saw it plainly, and he altered his course a trifle.

The roar of it came faintly on the wind, like the sound of storm-beaten surf pounding heavily upon a sand-bar when the tide is out. Except that this roar was continuous and was full of sharp cracklings and sputterings, and there was also the red line of flame to visualize the sound. When his eyes first swept the mile-long blaze, he felt his helplessness and cursed aloud the man who had drawn all the fighting force from the prairie that day. They might at least have been able to harry it and hamper it and turn the savage sweep of it into barren ground

upon some rock-bound coolie's rim. If they could have caught it at the start, or even in the first mile of its burning, or even now, if Blumenthal's outfit were on the spot, or if Manly Fleetwood's fire guards held it back, he hoped some of them had stayed at home so that they could help fight it. In that brief glimpse before he rode down into a hollow

and so lost sight of it, he knew that the fire they had fought and vanquished before had been a puny blaze compared with this one. The ground it had burned was not broad enough to do more than check this fire temporarily. It would simply burn around the blackened area and rush on and on, until the bend of the river turned it back to the north, where the river's first tributary stream would stop it for good and all. But before that happened, it would have done its worst,

and its worst was enough to pale the face of every prairie dweller. Once more he caught sight of the fire as he was riding swiftly across the level land to the east of Cold Spring Cooley. He was going to see if Manley's fire guards were any good, and if anyone was there to fight it when they came up. They could set a black fire from the guards, he thought, even if the guards themselves were not wide enough to hold the main fire. He pounded heavily down the long trail into the coolly, passed close by the house with a glance sidelong to see if anybody was in sight there,

rounded the corral to follow the trail which wound zigzag up the farther coolly wall, and overtook Val, running bareheaded up the hill, dragging a wet sack after her. She was panting already from the climb, and she had on thin slippers with high heels, he noticed, that impeded her progress and promised a sprained ankle before she, reached the top. Kent laughed grimly when he overtook her. He thought it was like a five-year-old child running with a cup of water to put out a burning house. "'Where do you think you're going with that sack?' he called out, by way of greeting. She turned a pale, terrified face toward him, and reached up a

hand mechanically to push her fair hair out of her eyes. So much smoke was rolling into the coolly, she panted. And I knew there must be a fire. And I've never felt quite easy about our guard since Polycarb Jank said, Do you know where it is, the fire? It's between here and the railroad. Give me that sack, and you go on back to the house. You can't do any good.

And when she handed the sack up to him and then kept on up the hill, he became autocratic in his tone. Go on, back to the house, I tell you. I shall not do anything of the kind, she retorted indignantly, and Kent gave a snort of disapproval, kicked his horse into a lunging gallop, and left her. You'll spoil your complexion, he cried over his shoulder, and that's about all you will do. You better go back and get a parasol.

Val did not attempt to reply, but she refused to let his tongue. taunts turn her back and kept stubbornly climbing, though the tears of pure rage filled her eyes and even slipped over the lids to her cheeks. Before she had reached the top, he was charging down upon her again, and the pallor of his face told her much. "'All hell couldn't stop that fire,' he cried, before he was near her, and the words were barely distinguishable in the roar which was growing louder and more terrifying. Get back. You want to stand there till it comes down on you? Then, just as he was passing, he saw how white and trembling she was, and he pulled up, with Michael sliding his front feet in the

loose soil that he might stop on that steep slope. You don't want to go and faint, he remonstrated in a more kindly tone, vaguely conscious that he had perhaps seemed brutal. Here, give me your hand and stick your toe in the stirrup ah don't waste time trying to make up your mind up you come don't you want to save the house and corrals and the haystacks we've got our work cut out let me tell you if we do it he had leaned and lifted her up bodily helped her to put her foot in the stirrup from which he had drawn his own and he held her beside him while he sent michael down the trail as fast as he'd dared. It was a good deal of a nuisance, having to look after her when seconds were so precious, but he couldn't go on and leave her, though she might easily have reached the bottom as soon as he, if she had not been so frightened. He was afraid to trust her. She looked to him as if she were going to faint in his arms. "'You don't want to get scared,' he said, as calmly as he could.

"'It's back two or three miles on the bench, he had. "'You don't want to get scared,' he said, as calmly as he could. It's back two or three miles on the bench yet, and I guess we can easy stop it from burning anything but the grass. It's this wind, you see. Manley went to town, I suppose. Yes, she answered weakly. He went yesterday and stayed over. I'm all alone, and I didn't know what to do, only to go up and try— No use up there.

They were at the corral gate then, and he set her down carefully. then dismounted, and turned Michael into the corral and shut the gate. "'If we can't step it, and I ain't close by, I wish you'd let Michael out,' he said hurriedly, his eyes taking in the immediate surroundings, and measuring the danger which lurked in weeds, grass, and scattered hay. A horse don't have much show when he's shut up, and, out there with that dry ditch runs, will backfire.

You take this sack and come and watch out my fire don't jump the ditch. We'll carry it around the house, just the other side of the trail. He was pulling a handful of grass for a torch, and while he was twisting it and feeling in his pocket for a match, he looked at her keenly. You aren't going to get hysterics and leave me to fight it alone, are you? He challenged. I hope I'm not quite such a silly, she answered.

stiffly, and he smiled to himself as he ran along the far side of the ditch with his blazing tuft of grass, setting fire to the tangled brown mat which covered the coolly bottom. Val followed slowly behind him, watching that the blaze did not blow back across the ditch, and beating it out when it seemed likely to do so. Now that she could actually do something, she was no more excited than he, if one could judge by her manner. She did look sulky, however, at his way of treating her. To backfire on short notice with no fresh-turned furrow of moist earth, but only a shadow little dry ditch, with the grass almost meeting over its top in places, is ticklish business at best.

Kent went slowly, stamping out incipient blazes that seem likely to turn unruly and not trusting Val any more than he was compelled to do. She was a woman, and Kent's experience with women of her particular type had not been extensive enough to breed confidence in an emergency like this. He had no more than finished stringing his line of fire in the irregular half-circle which enclosed house, corral, stables, and haystacks, and had for its eastern half the muddy depressions which, seasons less dry, was a fair-sized creek fed by the spring, when a jagged line of fire with

an upper wall of tumbling brown smoke leaped into view at the top of the bluff. One thing was in his favor. The grass upon the hillside was scantier than on the level upland, and here and there were patches of yellow soil, absolutely bare of vegetation, where a fire would be compelled to halt and creep slowly around. Also, fire usually burned slower down a hill than over a level. On the other hand, the long seem-like depressions which ran to the top were filled with dry bush, and even the coolly bottom had clumps of rose bushes and wild current, where the flames would revel briefly. But already, the black smoking line which curved around the haystacks to the north and around the house toward the south, was widening with every passing second.

Val had a tub half filled with water at the house, and that helped amazingly by making it possible to keep the sacks wet, so that every blow counted as they beat out the ragged tongues of flame, which, in that wind, would jump here and there the ditch and the road, and go creeping back toward the stacks and the buildings. For it was a long line they were guarding, and there was a good deal of running up and down in their endeavor to be in two places at once. Then Val, in turning to strike a newborn flame behind her, swept her skirt across a tuft of smoldering glass and set herself a fire. With the excitement of watching all points at once, and with the smoke and smell of fire

all about her, she did not see what had happened, and must have paid a frightful penalty if Kent had not, at that moment, been running past her to reach a point where a blaze had jumped the ditch. He swerved and swung a newly wet sack around her with a force which would have knocked her down if he had not at the same time caught and held her. Val screamed and struggled in his arms, and Kent knew that it was of him she was afraid. As soon as he dared, he released her and backed away sullenly. sorry i didn't have time to say please you were just ready to go up in smoke he flung savagely over his shoulder but he found himself shaking and weak so that when he reached the blaze he must beat out the sack was heavy as lead afraid of me women sure do beat hell he told himself when he was a bit steadier he glanced back at her resentfully val was stooping

inspecting the damage done to her dress she stood up looked at him and he saw that her face was white again as it had been upon the hillside a moment later he was near her again mr burnett i'm ashamed but i didn't know and you-you startled me she stopped him long enough to confess though she did not meet his eyes you saved You'll be startled worse if you let the fire hang there in that bunch of grass, he interrupted coolly. Behind you there! She turned obediently, and swung her sack down several times upon a smoldering spot, and the incident was closed. Speedily it was forgotten also, for within the meeting of the fires, which they stood still to watch, A patch of wild rose bushes was caught fairly upon both sides and flared high with a great snapping and crackling.

The wind seized upon the blaze, flung it toward them like a great yellow banner, and swept cinders and burning twigs far out over the blackened path of the backfire. Kent watched it and hardly breathed, but Val was shielding her face from the searing heat with her arms, and so did not see what she was. happened then. A burning branch, like a long-flaming dagger, flew straight with the wind,

and lighted true as if flung by the hand of an enemy. A long, neatly tapered stack received it fairly, and Kent's cry brought Val's arms down and her scared eyes staring at him. "'That settles the hay,' he exclaimed, and raced for the stacks, knowing all the while that he could do nothing, and yet panting in his hurry to reach the spot. Michael, trampling uneasily in the corral, lifted his head and neighed shrilly as Kent passed him on the run. Michael had watched fearfully the fire sweeping down upon him, and his fear had troubled Val not a little.

When she saw Kent pass the gate, she hurried up and threw it open, wondering a little that Kent should forget his horse. he had told her to see that he was turned loose if the fire could not be stopped and now he seemed to have forgotten it michael with a snort and an upward toss of his head to throw the dragging reins away from his feet left the corral with one jump and clattered away past the house and up the hill on the trail which led toward home val stood for a moment watching him could he outrun the fire he was holding his head turned to one side now so that the reins dangled away from his pounding feet once he stumbled to his knees but he was up in a flash and running faster than ever he passed out of sight over the hill and val with eyes smarting and cheeks burning from the heat drew a long breath and started after kent kent was backing step by step away from the heat of the burning stacks the roar and the crackle and the heat were terrific it was as if the whole world was burning around them and they only were left

a brand flew low over val's head as she ran staggeringly with a bewildered sense that she must hurry somewhere and do something immediately to save something which positively must be saved a spark from the brand fell upon her hand and she looked up stupidly the heat and the smoke were choking her so that she could scarcely breathe a new crackle was added to the uproar of flames kent still backing from the furnace of blazing hay turned and saw that the stable with its roof of musty hay was a fire and just beyond val her face covered with her sooty hands was staggering drunkenly he reached her as she fell to her knees i can't fight any more she whispered faintly he picked her up in his arms and hesitated his face toward the house then ran straight away from it stumbled across the dry ditch and out across the blackened strip which their own backfire had swept clean of grass The hot earth burned his feet through the soles of his riding boots, but the wind carried the heat and the smoke away, behind them. Clumps of bushes were still burning at the roots,

but he avoided them and kept on to the far side hill, where a barren yellow patch, with jetting sandstone rocks, offered a resting place. He set Val down upon a rock, placed himself beside her, so that she was leaning against him, and began fanning her vigorously with his hat. Thank the Lord, we're behind that smoke, anyhow, he observed, when he could get his breath.

He felt that silence was not good for the woman beside him, though he doubted much whether she was in the condition to understand him. She was gasping irregularly, and her body was a dead weight against him. It was sure fierce there for a few minutes. he looked out across the coolly at the burning stables and waited for the house to catch he could not hope that it would escape but he did not mention the probability of its burning keep your eyes shut he said that'll help some and soon as we can we'll go to the spring and give our faces and hands a good bath he untied his silk handkerchief shook out the cinders and pressed it against her closed eyes keep that over em he commanded till we can do better my eyes are more used to smoke than yours i guess working around branding fires toughens em some still she did not attempt to speak and she did not seem to have energy enough left to keep the silk over her eyes the wind blew it off without her stirring a finger to prevent and kent caught it just in time to save it from sailing away toward the fide

After that he held it in place himself, and he did not try to keep talking. He sat quietly with his arm around her, as impersonal in the embrace, as if he were holding a strange partner in a dance, and watched the stacks burn and the stables. He saw the corral take fire, rail by rail, until it was all ablaze. He saw hens and roosters running heavily, with wings, dragging until the heat toppled them over. He saw a cat with white spots upon its sides,

leave the bushes down by the creek, and go bounding in terror to the house. And still the house stood there, the curtains flapping in and out through the open windows, the kitchen door banging open and shut as the gusts of wind caught it. The fire licked as close as burned ground and rocky creek bed would let it,

and the flames which had stayed behind to eat the spare gleanings died while the main line raged on up the hillside and disappeared in a huge curling wave of smoke the stacks burned down to blackened smoldering butts the willows next the spring and the choke-cherries and wild currents withered in the heat and waved charred naked arms impotently in the wind The stable crumpled up, flared, and became a heap of embers. The corral was but a ragged line of smoking, half-burned sticks and ashes. Spirals of smoke like dying campfires blew thin ribbons out over the desolation. Kent drew a long breath and glanced down at the limp figure in his arms. She lay so very still that in spite of a quivering breath now in that, then, he had a swift, unreasoning fear she might be dead. Her hair was a tangled mass of gold upon

her head and spilled over his arms. He carefully picked a flake or two of charred grass from the locks on her temples and discovered how fine and soft was the hair. He lifted the grimy neckerchief from her eyes and looked down at her face, smoke-soiled and reddened from the heat. Her lips were drooped pitifully, like a hurt child. Her lashes, he noticed for the first time, were at least four shades darker than her hair. His gaze traveled on down her slim figure to her ringed fingers, lying loosely in her lap, a long, dry-looking blister upon one hand near the thumb, down to her slippers, showing beneath her scorched shirt, and he drew another long breath. he did not know why but he had a strange fleeting sense of possession and it startled him into action you gone to sleep he called gently and gave her a little shake

we can get to the spring now if you feel like walking that far if you don't i reckon i'll have to carry you for i sure do want a drink she half lifted her lashes and let them drop again as if life were not worth the effort of living. Kent hesitated, set his lips tightly together, and lifted her up straighter. His eyes were intent and stern, as though some great issue was at stake, and he must rouse her at once, in spite of everything. Here, this won't do it all, he said, but he was speaking to himself and his quivering nerves more than to her. She sighed, made a conscious effort, and had, and half opened her eyes again. But she seemed not to share his anxiety for action, and her mental and physical apathy were not to be mistaken. The girl was utterly exhausted with firefighting and nervous strain. You seem to be all in, he observed, his voice softly complaining. Well, I packed you

over here, and I reckon I better pack you back again, if you won't try to walk. she muttered something of which kent only distinguished a minute but she was still limp and absolutely without interest in anything and so after a moment of hesitation he gathered her up in his arms and carried her back to the house kicking the door savagely open took her in through the kitchen and laid her down upon the couch with a sigh of relief that he was rid of her the couch was gay with a bright silk spread of crazy patchwork and piled generously with dainty cushions too evidently made for ornamental purposes than for use but kent piled the cushions recklessly around her tucked her smudgy skirts clothes went and got a towel which he immersed recklessly in the water-pail and bathed her face and hands with clumsy gentleness and pushed back her tangled hair the burn upon her hand showed an angry red around the white of the blister and he laid the wet towel carefully upon it she did not move he was a man and he had lived all his life among men he could fight anything that was fightable he could save her life but after this slight attention to her comfort he had reached the limitation set by his purely masculine training he lowered the shades so that the room was dusky and as cool as any other place in that fire-tortured land and felt that he could do no more for her

he stood for a moment looking down at the inert grimy little figure stretched out straight like a corpse upon the bright-hued couch her eyes closed and sunken with blue shadows beneath her lips pale and still with that tired pitiful droop he stooped and rearranged the wet towel on her burned hand held his face close above hers for a second sighed frowned and tiptoed out into the kitchen closing the door carefully behind him end of chapter nine chapter ten of lonesome land by b m b m bower this libervox according is in the public domain chapter ten desolation for more than two hours kent sat outside in the shade of the house and stared out over the black desolation of the coolly his horse was gone so that he could not ride anywhere and there was nowhere in particular to ride for twenty miles around there was no woman whom he could bring to val's assistance even if he had been sure that she needed assistance several times he tiptoed into the kitchen opened the door into the front room an inch or so, and peered in at her. The third time she had relaxed from the corpse-like position and had thrown an arm up over her face,

as if she were shielding her eyes from something. He took heart at that and went out and foraged for firewood. There was a hard-beaten zone around the corral and stables, which had kept the fire from spreading toward the house, and the wind had borne the sparks and embers back toward the spring, so that the house stood in a brown oasis of unburned grass and weeds scanty enough it is true but yet a relief from the dead black surroundings the woodpile had not suffered a chopping block a decrepit saw-horse an axe and a rusty buck-saw marked the spot also three ties hacked eloquently in places and just five sticks of wood evidently chopped from a tie by a man in haste. Kent looked at that woodpile and swore. He had always known that Manley had an

aversion to laboring with his hands, but he was unprepared for such an exhibition of shiftlessness. He savagely attacked the three ties, chopped them into firewood, and piled them neatly, and then, walking upon his toes, he made a fire in the kitchen stove, filled the woodbox, the tea kettle, and the water-pair. sat out in the shade until he heard the kettle boiling over on the stove, took another peep in at Val, and then, moving as quietly as he could, proceeded to cook supper for them both.

He had been perfectly familiar with the kitchen arrangements in the days when Manly was a bachelor, and it interested him and filled him with a respectful admiration for woman in the abstract, and for Val in particular, to see how changed everything was, and how daintily clean and orderly. Val's smooth white hands, with their two sparkly rings and the broad wedding band,

did not suggest a familiarity with actual work about a house, but the effect of her labor and thought confronted him at every turn. You can see your face and everything you pick up that was made to shine, he commented, standing for a moment while he surveyed the bottom of a stewpan. She don't look it, but that yellow-eyed little dame sure knows how to keep house. Then he heard her cough, and set down the stewpan hurriedly, and went to see if she wanted anything. Val was sitting upon the couch, her two hands pushing back her hair,

gazing stupidly around her. Everything's already but the tea, Kent announced, in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone. I was just waiting to see how, strong you wanted. Val turned her yellow-brown eyes upon him in bewilderment. Why, Mr. Burnett, maybe I wasn't dreaming then. I thought there was a fire, was there? Kent grinned. Kinda. You work like a son of a gun, too, till there wasn't any more to do, and then you laid them down for fair. You were all in, so I packed you in and put you

there where you could be comfortable. And supper's ready, but how strong do you want your tea? I kind of had an idea, he added, lamely, that women drink tea mostly. I made coffee for myself. Val let herself drop back among the pretty pillows. I don't want any. If there was a fire, she said Dully, then it's true. Everything's all burned up. I don't want any. I don't want any. I don't want any tea. I want to die. Kent studied her for a moment. Well, in that case, shall I get the axe? Val had closed her eyes, but she opened them again. I don't care what you do, she said. Well, I aim to please, he told her calmly. What I'd do in your place would be to go and put on something that ain't all smoked and scorched like a ham, and then I'd sit up and drink some tea and be nice about it.

But of course, if you want to cash in, Val gave a sob. I can't help it. I'd just as soon be dead as alive. It was bad enough before, and now everything's burned up, and all manly's nice, hey! "'Well,' Kent interrupted, mercilessly, "'I've heard of women doing all kinds of fool things, "'but this is the first time I ever knew one to commit suicide "'over a couple of measly haystacks.' "'He went out and slammed the door

"'so that the house shook "'and tramped three times across the kitchen floor. "'That'll make her so mad at me "'she won't think about anything else for a while,' "'he reasoned shrewdly. but all the while his eyes were shiny, and when he winked, his lashes became unaccountably moist. He stopped and looked out at the blackened coolly.

Shut into this hole week after week without a woman to speak to. It must be damn tough, he muttered. He tiptoed up and laid his ear against the inner door and heard a smothered sobbing inside. That did not sound as if she were mad, and he promptly cursed himself for a fool and a brute. With his own judgment to guide him, he brewed some very creditable tea,

sugared and creamed it lavishly, browned a slice of bread on top of the stove, blowing off the dust beforehand, after Arlene's recipe for making toast, buttered it until it dripped oil, and carried it into her, with the air of a man who will have peace, even though he must fight for it. The forlorn picture she made, lying there with her face buried in a pink and blue cushion,

and with her shoulders shaking with sobs, almost made him retreat quite unnerved. As it was, he merely spilled a third of the tea, and just missed letting the toast slide from the plate to the floor. When he had righted his burden, he had recovered his composure to a degree. Here, this won't do it all, he reproved, pulling a chair to the couch by the simple method of hooking his toe under a round and dragging it toward him. You don't want man to come and catch you acting like this. He's liable to feel pretty blue himself, and he'll need some cheering up, don't you think? I don't know for sure, but I've always been kind of under the impression that's what a man gets a wife for, ain't it? You don't want to throw down your cards now.

You sit up and drink this tea and eat this toast, and I'll gamble you'll feel about two hundred percent better. Come, he urged gently after a minute. I never thought a nervy little woman like you would give up so easy. I was plum-ashamed of myself the way you worked on that backfire. You had me going for a while. You're just tired out, as all ails you. You want to hurry up and drink this before it gets cold. Come on.

I'm liable to feel insulted if you pass up my cooking this way. Val choked back the tears, and, without taking her face from the pillow, put out the burned hand gropingly until it touched his arm. knee. Oh, you, you're good, she said brokenly. I used to think you were horrid, and I'm ashamed. You're good, and I—well, I ain't going to be good much longer, if you don't get your head out of that pillow and drink this tea. His tone was amused and half impatient, but his face, more particularly his eyes, told another story, which perhaps it was. was as well she did not read.

I'll be dropping the blame stuff in another minute. My elbows plumbed getting a cramp in it, he added, complainingly. Val made a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh and sat up. With more haste than the occasion warranted, Kent put the tea and toast on the chair and started for the kitchen. I was bound you'd eat before I did, he explained. and I could stand a cup of coffee myself, and say, if there's anything more you want,

just holler and I'll come on the long lope. Val took the teaspoon, tasted the tea, and then regarded the cup doubtfully. She never drank sugar in her tea. She wondered how much of it he had put in. Her head ate frightfully, and she felt weak and utterly hopeless

of ever feeling different. everything all right came kent's voice from the kitchen yes val answered hastily trying hard to speak with some life and cheer in her tone it's lovely all of it want more tea it sounded out there as though he was pushing back his chair to rise from the table no no this is plenty val glanced fearfully toward the kitchen door lifted the tea-cup and heroically drank every drop it was she considered the least that she could do when he had finished eating he came in and found her nibbling apathetically at the toast she looked up at him with an apology in her eyes mr bernett don't think i am always so silly she began leaning back against the piled pillows with a sigh i have always thought that i could bear anything but last night i didn't sleep much i dreamed about fires and that manly was dead and i woke up in a perfect horror it was only ten o'clock so then i sat up and tried to read and every first one day i had to read and every first one was dead and i woke up in a perfect horror it was only ten o'clock so then i sat up and tried to read and every minutes I would go out and look at the sky to see if there was a glow anywhere. It was foolish, of course, and I didn't sleep at all today either.

The minute I would lie down, I'd imagine I heard a fire roaring. And then it came. But I was all used up before that, so I wasn't really—I must have fainted, for I don't remember getting into the house. And I do think fainted. is the silliest thing. I never did such a thing before, she finished objectively. Oh, well, I guess you had a license to faint if you felt that way, he comforted awkwardly.

It was the smoke and the heat, I reckon. They were enough to put a crimp in anybody. Did man say about when he would be back? Because I ought to be moving along. It's quite a walk to the wishbone. oh you won't go to manly comes please i'd go crazy here alone and-and he might not come he's frequently detained i've such a horror of fires she certainly looked as if she had she was sitting up straight her hands held out appealingly to him her eyes big and bright sure i won't go if you feel that way about it Kent was half frightened at her wild manner.

I guess man will be along pretty soon anyway. He'll hit the trail as soon as he can get behind the fire. That's a cinch. He'll be worried to death about you, and you don't need to be afraid of prairie fires anymore, Mrs. Fleetwood. You're safe. There can't be any more fires till next year anyway. There's nothing left to burn.

He turned his face to the wind, and stare it out somberly at the ravaged hillside. Yes, you're dead safe now. I'm such a fool, Val confessed, her eyes also turning to the window. If you want to go, I... Her mouth was quivering, and she did not finish the sentence. Oh, I'll stay till man comes.

He's liable to be along any time now. He glanced. at her scorched, smoke-stained dress. He'll sure think you made a hand all right. Val took the hint and blushed with true feminine shame that she was not looking her best. I'll go and change, she murmured, and rose wearily. But I feel as if the world has been rolled up in a scroll and burned,

as the Bible puts it, and as if nothing matters anymore. It does, though. We'll all go right along living the same as ever, and the first snow will make this fire seem as old as the war, except to the cattle. They're the ones to get it in the neck this winter. He went out and walked aimlessly around in the yard, and went over to the smoking remains of the stable

and to the heap of black ashes, where the stacks had been. Manly would be hard hit he knew. he wished he would hurry and come and relieve him of the responsibility of keeping val company he wondered a little in his masculine way that women should always be afraid when there was no cause for fear for instance she had stayed alone a good many times evidently when there was real danger of a fire sweeping down upon her at any hour of the day or night but now when there was no longer a-reuxed her when there was no longer a fire sweeping down upon her at any hour of the day or night but now when there was no longer a possibility of anything happening, she had turned white and begged him to stay. And Val, he judged shrewdly, was not the sort of woman

who finds it easy to beg favors of anybody. There came a sound of galloping up on the hill, and he turned quickly. Dull dusk was settling bleakly down upon the land, but he could see three or four horsemen just making the first descent from the top. He shouted a, wordless greeting and heard their answering yells. In another minute or two they were pulling up

at the house, where he had hurried to meet them. Val, tucking aside comb hastily into her freshly coiled hair, her pretty self clothed all in white linen, appeased eagerly in the doorway. Why, where's manly? she demanded anxiously. Blumenthal was dismounting near her, and he'd, touched his hat before he answered. We were on the way home, and we thought we'd better ride around this way and see how you came out, he evaded. I see you lost your hay in buildings.

Pretty close call for the house, too, I should judge. You must have got here in time to do something, Kent. But where's manly? Val was growing pale again. Has anything happened? Is he hurt? Tell me. oh he's all right mrs fleetwood blumenthal glanced meaningly at kent and fred de garmo sitting to one side of his saddle looked at polycarp jenks and smiled slightly we left town ahead of him and knocked right along

val regarded the group suspiciously he's coming then is he oh certainly glad you're all right mrs fleetwood that was an awful fire it swept the whole country clean between the two rivers i'm afraid this wind made it bad he was tightening his cinch and now he unhooked the stirrup from the horn and mounted again we'll have to be getting along don't know yet how we came out of it over to the ranch but our guards ought to have stopped it there he looked at kent how did the wishbone make it he inquired i was just going to ask you if you knew kent replied scowling because he saw fred looking at val in what he considered an impertinent manner my horse ran off while i was fighting for you knew kent replied scowling because he saw fred looking at val in what he considered an impertinent manner my horse ran off while i was fighting fire here so i'm afoot i was waiting for man to show up you'll get all of that you want he he he pylcarp cut in tactlessly man won't get home to-night not unless ah come on fred started along the charred trail which led across the coolly and up the farther side blumenthal spoke a last commonplace sentence or two just to round off the conversation and make the termination not too abrupt and they rode away with polycarb glancing curiously back now and then as though he was tempted to stay in gossip and yet was anxious to know all that had happened at the double diamond what did polycarb jenks mean about manly not coming to-night

val was standing in the doorway staring after the group of horsemen nothing i guess polycarp never does mean anything half the time he just talks to hear his head roar men'll come all right this bunch appeared to beat em out is all oh do you think so mr blumenthal acted as if there was something well what can you expect of a man that lives on oatmeal mush and toast and hot water kent demanded aggressively and fred de garmo is always grinning and winking at somebody and that other fellow is a swede and got about as much sense as a prairie dog and polycarp is an old granny gossip that nobody ever pays any attention to man won't stay in town he'll be too anxious it's terrible sighed val about the hay in the stables manly will be so discouraged he worked so hard to cut and stack that hay and he was just going to gather the calves together and put them in the river field in a couple of weeks and now there isn't anything to feed them i guess he's coming i hear somebody kent was straining his eyes to see the top of the hill where the dismal sight shadows lay heavily upon the dismal black earth sounds to me like a rig though maybe he drove out he left her went to the wire gate which gave egress from the tiny unkempt yard and walked along the trail to meet the newcomer you stay here he called back when he thought he heard val following him i'm just going to tell him you're all right you'll get that white dress all smudged up in these ashes

in the narrow little gully where the trail crossed the half-dry channel from the spring he met the rig the driver pulled up when he caught sight of kent who's that did she get out of it cried arline holly in a breathless undertone. Oh, it's you, is it, Kent? I couldn't stand it. I just had to come and see if she's alive. So I made Hank hitch right up, as soon as we knew the fire wasn't going to get into all that brush along the creek and run down to the town, and bring me over. And the way— But where's man? Kent laid a hand upon the wheel and shot the question into the stream of Arlene's talk. Man, I don't know what devil gets into men sometimes. Man went and got drunk as a fool soon as he seen the fire and knew what could have happened out here. Started right in to drowned his sorrows before he made sure whether he had any to drown. If that ain't like a man

every time. Time we all got back to town. And the fire was kiting away from us instead of coming up toward us. He was too drunk to do anything. He must have poured it down him by the court. He... Manly, is that you, dear? It was Val, a slim white figure against the blackness all around her, coming down the trail to see what delayed them. Why don't you come to the house? There is a house, you know. We aren't quite burned out. And I'm all right, so there's no need to worry in. anymore. Now, ain't that a darn shame? muttered Arlene wrathfully to Kent. A fellow that'll drink when he's got a wife like that had ought to be hung. It's me, Arlene Hawley, she raised her voice to its ordinary shrill level. It ain't just the proper time to make a call, I guess, but it's better

late than never. Man, he was took with one of his spells, so I told him, I'd come out and take you back to town. How are you, anyhow? Scared plump to death, I'll bet, when that fire come over the hill. You needn't a tramp clear down here. We was coming on to the house in a minute. I got to chew in the rag with Kent. Get in. You might as well ride back to the house now you're here. Manly didn't come? Val was standing beside the rig near Her white-clothed figure was indistinct, and her face obscured in the dark. Her voice was quiet, lifelessly quiet. Is he sick?

Well, of course his nerves was all upset. Oh, then he is sick? Well, nothing dangerous, but he wasn't feeling well, so I thought I'd come out and take you back with me. Oh Man was awful worried You mustn't think he wasn't He was pretty near crazy for a while

Oh, yes, certainly Get in and ride And you mustn't worry none about man Nor feel hurt that he didn't come He felt so bad I'll walk, thank you It's only a few steps And I'm not worried at a little

all, I quite understand. The team started on slowly, and Mrs. Hawley turned in the seat so that she could continue talking without interruption to the two who walked behind. But it was Kent who answered her at intervals when she asked a direct question or appeared to be waiting for some comment. Between whiles he was wondering if Val did, after all, understand. She knew so little of those. She knew so little of the West and its ways, and her faith in Manly was so firm and unquestioning that he felt sure she was only hurt at what looked very much like an indifference to her welfare. He suspected shrewdly that she was thinking what she would have done in Manley's place and was trying to reconcile Mrs. Hawley's assurances that Manley was not actually sick or disabled

with the blunt fact that he had stayed in town and permitted other than, to come out to see if she were alive or dead and kent had another problem to solve should he tell her the truth he had never ceased to feel in some measure responsible for her position and she was sure to discover the truth before long not even her innocence and her ignorance of life could shield her from that knowledge he let a question or two of arleens go unanswered while he struggled for a decision but when they reached the house only one point was dearly settled in his mind instead of riding as far as he might and then walking across the prairie to the wishbone he intended to go to town with them to see her through with it End of Chapter 10. Chapter 11 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. B. Bower. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 11. Val's Awakening

Val stood just inside the door of the hotel parlor and glanced swiftly around at the place of unpleasant memory. No, I must see Manly before I can tell you whether we shall want to stay or not, she replied to Arlene's insistence that she'd go right up to a room and lie down. I feel quite well, and you must not bother about me at all. If Mr. Burnett will be good enough to send manly to me, I must see him first of all. It was Val in her most unapproachable mood,

and Arlene subsided before it. Well, then I'll go and send word to man and see about some supper for us. I feel as if I could eat. ten-penny nails. She went out into the hall, hesitated a moment, and then boldly invaded the office. "'Say, have you got man rounded up yet?' she demanded of her husband. "'And how is he, anyhow? That girl ain't got the first idea of what ails him. How anybody with the brains and education she's got can be so thick-headed gets me.

Jim told me man's been packing a bottle or two home with him every trip he's made for the last month, and she don't know a thing about it. I'd like to know what in time they learn folks back east, anyhow. To put their eyes and their scents in their pockets, I guess, and go along blind as bats. Where's Kent at? Did he go after him? She won't do nothing till she sees man. At that moment Kent came in. and his disgust needed no words he answered mrs holly's inquiring look with a shake of the head i can't do anything with him he said morosely he's so full he don't know he's got a wife hardly

you better go and tell her mrs holly somebody's got to oh my heavens arline clutched at the doorknob for moral support i could no more face of them yellow eyes of her hern when they blaze up. You go tell her yourself, if you want her told. I've got to see about some supper for us. I ain't had a bite since dinner, and man's off gadden somewheres. She hurried away, mentally washing her hands of the affair. Women's got to learn sometime what men is, she soliloquized. And I guess she ain't no better than any of the rest of us, that she can't learn to take her medicine. But I ain't going to be the one to tell her what kind of fellow she's tied to. My stunt'll be helping her pick up the pieces and make the best of it after she's told. She stopped, just inside the dining room, and listened until she heard Kent cross the hall

from the office and open the parlor door. Gee, it's like a hangin, she sighed. If she wasn't so plumb innocent... She started for the door which opened into the parlor from the dining room, strongly tempted to eavesdrop. She did yield so far as to put her ear to the keyhole, but the silence within impressed her strangely, and she retreated to the kitchen and closed the door tightly behind her, as the most practical method of bidding Satan be gone. The silence in the parlor lasted while Kent, standing with his back against the door, faced val and meditated swiftly upon the manner of his telling well she demanded at last i am still waiting to see manly i am not quite a child mr bernett i know something is the matter and you if you have any pity or any feeling of friendship you will tell me the truth don't you suppose i know that arline was lying to me all the time about manly

you helped her to lie so did that other man i waited until i reached town where i could do something and now you must tell me the truth manly is badly hurt or he is dead tell me which it is and take me to him she spoke fast as if she was afraid she might not be able to finish though her voice was even and low it was also flat and toneless with her effort to seem perfectly calm and self-controlled. Kent looked at her, forgot all about leading up to the truth by easy stages, as he had intended to do, and gave it to her straight. He ain't either one, he said. He's drunk. Val stared at him.

Drunk! He could see how even her lip shrank from the word. She threw up her head. That, she declared, icily i know to be impossible oh do you let me tell you that's never impossible with a man not when there's whisky handy manly is not that sort of a man when he left me three years ago he promised me never to frequent places where liquor is sold he never had touched liquor he never was tempted to touch it but just to be doubly sure he promised me on his own honor. He has never broken that promise. I know because he told me so. She made the explanation scornfully, as if her pride and her belief in manly almost forbade the indignity of explaining.

I don't know why you should come here and insult me, she added, with a lofty charity for his sin. I don't see how it can insult you, he contended. You've got a different way of looking at things. but that won't help you to dodge facts. Man's drunk. I said it, and I mean it. It ain't the first time, nor the second. He was drunk the day you came, and couldn't meet the train. That's why I met you.

I ought to have told you, I guess, but I hated to make you feel bad. So I went to work and sobered him up, and sent him over to get married. I've always been kind of sorry for that. it was a low-down trick to play on you and that's a fact you ought to have had a chance to draw out of the game but i didn't think about it at the time man and i have always been pretty good friends and i was thinking of his side of the case i thought he'd straighten up after he got married he wasn't such a hard drinker only he'd go out on a toot when he got into town like lots of men i didn't think it had some sort of a drinker only he'd go out on a toot when he got into town like lots of men i didn't think it had some such a strong hold on him. And I knew he thought a lot of you, and if you went back on him, it had hit him pretty hard. Man ain't a bad fellow, only for that, and he's liable to do better when he finds out you know about it. A man will do most anything for a woman he thinks a lot of.

Indeed! Val was sitting now upon the red plush chair. Her face was perfectly colorless, manner frozen. The word seemed to speak itself, without having any relation whatever to her thoughts and her emotions. Kent waited. It seemed to him that she took it harder than she would have taken the news that Manly was dead. He had no means of gauging the horror of a young woman who has all her life been familiar with such terms as the demon rum, and who has been taught that, intemperance is the doorway to perdition a young woman whose life has been sheltered jealously from all contact with the ugly things of the world and who believes that she might better die than marry a drunkard he watched her unobtrusively anyway it was worrying over you that made him get off wrong to-day he ventured at last as a sort of palliative they say he was going to start home right in the face of the fire and when they wouldn't let him he headed straight for a saloon and commenced to pour whisky down him he thought sure you-he thought the fire would-i i see val interrupted stonily

for the very doubtful honor of shaking the hand of a politician he left me alone to face as best i might the possibility of burning alive and when it seemed likely that the possibility had become a certainty he must celebrate his bereavement by becoming a beast is that what you would have me believe of my husband that's about the size of it kent admitted reluctantly only i wouldn't have put it just that way maybe indeed and how would you put it then kent leaned harder against the door and looked at her curiously women it seemed to him were always going to extremes they were either too soft and meek or else they were too hard and unmerciful how would you put it i am rather curious to know your point of view well i know men better than you do mrs fleetwood i know they can do some things that look pretty rotten on the surface and yet be fairly decent underneath you don't know how a habit like that gets a fellow just where he's weakest man ain't a beast he's selfish and careless and he gives way too easy but he thinks the world of you jim says he cried like a baby when he came into the saloon and acted like a crazy man you don't want to be too hard on him i've an idea this will learn him a lesson if you take him the right way mrs fleetwood the chances are he'll quit drinking val smiled kent thought he had never before seen a smile like that and hoped he would never see another there was in it neither mercy nor mirth but only the hard judgment of a woman who does not understand

will you bring him to me here mr burnett i do not feel quite equal to invading a saloon and begging him on my knees to come after the conventional manner of drunkard's wives but i should like to see him kent stared he ain't in any shape to argue with he remonstrated you better wait a while she rested her chin upon her hands folded upon the high chair back and gazed at a little she rested her chin upon the high chair back and gazed at her head at him with her tawny eyes that somehow reminded Kent of a lioness in a cage. He thought swiftly that a lioness would have as much mercy as she had in that mood. Mr. Burnett, she began quietly, when Kent's nerves were beginning to feel the strain of her silent stare. I want to see manly as he is now. I will tell you why. You aren't a woman, and you never will understand, but I shall tell you, I want to tell somebody. I was raised well. That sounds queer, but modesty forbids more. At any rate,

my mother was very careful about me. She believed in a girl marrying and becoming a good wife to a good man, and to that end she taught me and trained me. A woman must give her all, her life, her past, present, and future to the man she marries. For three years I thought how unworthy I was to be Manley's wife. Unworthy, do you hear? I slept with his letters under my pillow. The self-contempt in her tone. I studied the things I thought would make me a better companion out here in the wilderness. I practiced hours and hours every day upon my violin because Manley had admired my playing, and I thought would please him to have me play in the firelight on winter evenings when the blizzards were howling about the house. I learned to cook, to wash clothes, to iron, to sweep, and to scrub, and to make my own clothes,

because Manley's wife would live where she could not hire servants to do these things. I lived a beautiful, picturesque dream of domestic happiness. I left my friends, my home, all the things. I had been accustomed to all my life, and I came out here to live that dream. She laughed bitterly. You can easily guess how much of it has come true, Mr. Burnett. But you don't know what it costs a girl to come down from the clouds and find that reality is hard and ugly,

from dreaming of a cozy little nest of a home and the love and care of manly to the reality, to carrying water and chopping wood and being left alone day after day, and to find that his love only meant, Oh, you don't know how a woman clings to her ideals. You don't know how I have clung to mine. They have become rather tattered, and I have had to mend them often, but I have clung to them, even though they do not resemble much of the dreams I brought with me to this horrible country. But if it's true what you tell me, if Manly himself is another disillard,

illusionment, if beyond his selfishness and his carelessness he is a drunken brute whom I can't even respect, then I'm done with my ideals. I want to see him just as he is. I want to see him once without the halo I have kept shining all these months. I've got my life to live, but I want to face facts and live facts. I can't go on dreaming and making believe after this. She stopped and looked at him, speculatively, absolutely without emotion. Just before I left home, she went on in the same calm, quiet, a girl showed me some verses written by a very wicked man. At least they say he is very wicked.

At any rate, he is in jail. I thought the verse is horrible and brutal, but now I think the man must be very wise. I remember a few lines, and they seem to be. to me to mean manly. For each man kills the thing he loves. Some do it with a bitter look, some with a flattering word,

the coward does it with a kiss, the brave man with a sword. I don't remember all of it, but there was another line or two. The kindest use a knife because the dead so soon grow cold. I wish I had that poem now, I think I could understand it.

I think... I think you've got talking hysterics, if there is such a thing, Kent interrupted harshly. You don't know half what you're saying. You've had a hard day, and you're all tired out, and everything looks out of focus.

I know. I've seen men like that sometimes, when some trouble hit him hard and unexpected. What you want is sleep, not poetry about it. killing people. A man, in the shape you are in, takes to whiskey. You're taking to graveyard poetry, and if you ask me, that's worse than whiskey. You ain't normal. What you want to do is go straight to bed. When you wake up in the morning, you won't feel so bad. You won't have half as many

troubles as you've got now. I knew you wouldn't understand it, Val remarked coldly. still staring at him with her chin and her hands you won't worry yourself to-morrow morning kent declared unsympathetically and called mrs holly from the kitchen you better put mrs fleetwood to bed he advised gruffly and if you've got anything that'll make her sleep give her a dose of it she's so tired she can't see straight he was nearly to the outside door when val recovered her speech You men are all alike, she said contemptuously. You give orders and you consider yourselves above all the laws of morality or decency. In reality, you are beneath them. We shouldn't expect anything of the lower animals. How I despise men!

Now you're talking, grinned Kent quite unmoved. Whack us in a bunch all you like, but don't make one port devil take it all. Men as a class are used to it and can stand it. He was laughing as he left the room, but his amusement lasted only until the door was closed behind him. "'Lord!' he exclaimed and drew a deep breath. "'I'd sure hate to have that little woman say all them things about me,' and glanced involuntarily over his shoulder to where a crack of light showed under the faded green shade of one of the parlor windows. He crossed the street and entered the saloon where Manley was still

drinking heavily. His face crimson and blear-eyed and brutalized. His speech thickened disgustingly. He was sprawled in an armchair, waving an empty glass in an erratic attempt to mark the time of a college ditty six or seven years out of date, which he was trying to sing. He leered up at Kent. "'Wife's all right,' he informed him solemnly. "'Knew she would be. Fine guards got out there. "'Sall right, somebody said so. Have a drink.'

Ken glowered down at him, made a swift mental decision, and pipped him by the shoulder. "'You come with me,' he commanded. "'I've got something important I want to tell you. "'Come on, if you can walk.' course i can walk all right certainly i can walk what makes you think i can't walk want to insult me saw my friends here no secrets from my friends what's want tell me she it here kent was a big man that is to say he was tall well-muscled and active but so was manly kent tried the power of persuasion leaving force

as a last doubtful result. In fifteen minutes or thereabouts, he had succeeded in getting manly outside the door, and there he balked. "'What's matter with you?' he complained, pulling back. "'Come on, I'm back and have a drink. What's one to tell me?' "'You wait. I'll tell you all about it in a minute.

I've got something to show you, and I don't want the bunch to get next. savvy he had a sickening sense that the subterfuge would not have deceived a five-year-old child but it was accepted without question he led manly stumbling up the street evading a direct statement as to his destination pulled him off the boardwalk and took him across a vacant lot well sprinkled with old shoes and tin cans here manley fell down and kent's patience was well-shrinked with old shoes and tin cans here manley fell down and kent's patience was well tested before he got him up and going again where you goin manly inquired pettishly as often as he could bring his tongue to the labor of articulation you wait and i'll show you was kent's unvaryed reply at last he pushed open a door and led his victim into the darkness of a small windowless building It's in here, back against the wall there, he said, pulling manly after him. By feeling and by a good sense of location, he arrived at a rough bunk built against the farther wall,

with a blanket or two upon it. There you are, he announced grimly. You'll have a sweet time getting anything to drink here, old boy. When you're sober enough to face your wife and have some show of squaring yourself with her, I'll come and let you out. He had pushed Manly down upon the bunk and had reached the door before the other could get up and come at him. He pulled the door shut with a slam,

slipped a padlock into the staple, and snapped it just before Manley lurched heavily against it. He was cursing as well as he could, was Manly, and he began kicking like an unruly child shut into a closet. "'Ah, let up,' Kent advised him through a crack in the wall. "'Want to know where you are? "'Well, you're in Holly's ice house. "'You know it's a fine place for drunks to sober up in.

"'It's awful popular for that purpose. "'Ah, you can't do any business kicking. "'That's been tried lots of times. "'This is sure well built for an ice house. "'No, I can't let you out. couldn't possibly you know i haven't got the key old lady holly has got it and she's gone to bed hours ago you go to sleep and forget about it i'll talk to you in the morning good night and pleasant dreams the last thing kent heard as he walked away was manly's profane promise to cut kent's heart out very early the next day the darned fool kent commented as he stopped in the first patch of lamplight to roll a cigarette he ain't got another friend in town that'd go to the trouble i've gone to for him he'll realize it too when all that whisky quit stewing inside him

end of chapter eleven chapter twelve of lonesome land by b m b m bower this libervox recording is in the public domain chapter twelve a lesson in forgiveness well old timer how you comin you sure do sleep sound this is the third time i've come to tell you breakfast is ready and then some you'll get the bottom of the coffee-pot for fair if you don't hushabye's a little bit of the coffee-pot for fair if you don't hustle. Kent left the door of the ice-house wide open behind him, so that the warmth of mid-morning swept in to do battle with the chill and damp of wet sawdust and buried ice. Manly rolled over so that he faced his visitor, and his reply was abusive in the extreme. Kent waited, with an air of impersonal interest, until he was done and had turned his face away, as though the subject was quite exhausted. Well, now you've got that load off your mind.

Come on over and get a cup of coffee. But while you're thinking about whether you want anything but my heart's blood, I'm going to speak right up and tell you a few things that commonly ain't none of my business. Do you know your wife came within an ace of burning to death yesterday? Manly sat up with a jerk and glared at him. do you know you're burned out slick and clean all except the shack hay stables corral wagons chickens kent spread his hands in a gesture including all minor details i rode over there when i saw the fire coming and it's lucky i did old timer i backfired and saved the house and your wife from going up and smoke but everything else went let that sink into your system will you and just see if you can draw a picture of what would have happened if nobody had showed up if that fire had hit the coolly with nobody there but your wife

why i run on to her half-way up the bluff packing a wet sack to fight it at the fire-guards now man it ain't any credit to you that the worst didn't happen i'd sure like to tell you what i think of a fellow that will leave a woman out there twenty miles from town and ten from the nearest neighbor and them not at home to take a chance on a thing like that But I can't. I never learned words enough. There's another thing. Old Lady Holly took more interest in her than you did. She drove out there to see how about it, as soon as the fire had burned on past and left the trail safe. And it didn't look good to her, that little woman stuck out there all by herself.

She made her pack up some clothes and brought her to town with her. She didn't want to come. she had an idea that she ought to stay with it till you showed up. But the only original Holly is sure all right. She talked to your wife, plumb out of the house and into the rig, and brought her to town. She's over to the hotel now. Val, at the hotel? How long has she been there? Manley began smoothing his hair and his crumpled clothes with his hands.

Good heavens! You told her I'd gone on out and had missed her on the trail, didn't you, Kent? She doesn't know I'm in town, does she? You always were, good fellow. I haven't forgotten how you... Well, you can forget it now. I didn't tell her anything like that. I didn't think of it, for one thing.

She knew all the time you were in town. I'm tired of lying to her. I told her the truth. I told her you were done. drunk. Manly's jaw dropped. You, you told her? Exactly. I told her you were drunk. Kent nodded gravely, and his lips curled as he watched the other cringe. She called me a liar, he added, with a certain reminiscent amusement.

Manly brightened. That's Val. Once she believes in a person, she's loyal as... She ain't now, Kent interposed dryly. When I let up, she was plum convinced. She knows now what ailed you the day she came and you didn't meet her. You dirty cur! And I thought you were a friend. You... You thought right, until you got to rooting a little too deep in the mud, old-timer.

And let me tell you something. I was your friend when I told her. She's got to know. You couldn't go on like this much longer without having her get wise. She ain't a fool. The thing for you to do now is to buck up and let her reform you. I've always heard that women are tickled plum to death when they can reform a man. You go on over there and make your little talk, and then buckle down and live up to it.

Savvy? That's your only chance now. It'll work, too. You ought to straighten up, man. and act white. Not just to square yourself with her, but because you're going downhill pretty fast, if you only knew it. You ain't anything like you were two years ago when we batched together. You've got to brace up pretty sudden, or you'll be so far gone you can't climb back. And when a man has got a wife to look after, it seems to me he ought to be the best it's in him

to be. You were a fine fellow when you first hit. hit the country, and she thought she was getting that same fine fellow when she came away out here to marry you. It ain't any of my business, but do you think you're giving her a square deal? He waited a minute and spoke the next sentence with a certain diffidence. I'll gamble. You haven't been disappointed in her. She's an angel, and I'm a beast, groaned manly, with the exaggerated self-abase. which so frequently follows close upon the heels of intoxication she'll never forgive a thing like that the best thing i can do is to blow my brains out like walt and have your picture enlarged and put it in a gold frame and hubby number two learning his morals from your awful example elaborated kent in much the same tone he had employed when val only the day before had rationed

had rashly expressed a wish for a speedy death. Manly sat up straighter and sent a look of resentment toward the man who bantered when he should have sympathized. It's all a big joke with you, of course, he flared weakly. You're not married to a perfect woman, a woman who never did anything wrong in her life and can't understand how anybody should want to, and can't forgive him when he does. She expects a man to be a saint. Why, I don't even smoke in the house. And she doesn't dream I'd ever swear under any circumstances.

Why, Kent, a fellow's got to go to town and turn himself loose sometimes, when he lives in a rarefied atmosphere of refined morality, and listens to songs without words and weepy classics on the violin, and never a thing to make your feet tingle. She doesn't believe in public dances either, nor cards. She reads The Ring in the Book evenings, and wants to discuss it and read passages of it to me. I used to take some interest in those things,

and she doesn't seem to see I've changed. Why, hang it, Kent, cold spring coolies no place for browning. He doesn't fit in. All that sort of thing is a thousand miles behind me, and i've got to he stopped short and brooded his eyes upon the dank sawdust at his feet i'm a beast he repeated rather lugubriously she's an angel an eastern-bred angel and let me tell you kent all that's pretty hard to live up to kent looked down at him meditatively wondering if there was not a good deal of truth and justice in manley's argument but his sympathies had already gone to the other side and kent was not the man to make an emotional pendulum of himself well what are you going to do about it he asked after a short silence for answer manly rose to his feet with a certain air of determination which flamed up oddly above his general weakness like the last sputter of a candle burned down

i'm going over and take my medicine face the music he said almost sullenly she's too good for me i always knew it and i haven't treated her right i've left her out there alone too much but she wouldn't come to town with me she said she couldn't endure the sight of it what could i do i couldn't stay out there all the time there were times when i had to come She didn't seem to mind staying alone. She never objected. She was always sweet, sad, good-natured, and shut up inside of herself. She just gives you what she pleases of her mind and the rest she hides. Kent laughed suddenly. You married men sure do have all kinds of trouble, he remarked. A fellow like me can go on a jamboree any time he likes and as long as he likes. and it doesn't concern anybody but himself, and maybe the man he's working for. And look at you, scared plumb silly, thinking of what your wife's going to say about it.

If you ask me, I'm going to trot alone. I'd rather be lonesome than good any old time. That, however, did not tend to raise manly spirits any. He entered the hotel with visible reluctance, looked into the parlor, and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw that it was empty, wavered at the foot of the steep, narrow stairs, and retreated to the dining-room,

with Kent at his heels, knowing that the matter had passed quite beyond his help or hindrance, and had entered that mysterious realm of matrimony where no unweded man or woman may follow, and yet is curious enough to linger. Just inside the door, Manly stopped so suddenly that Kent bumped together. him val sweet and calm and cool was sitting just where the smoke-dimmed sunlight poured in through a window upon her and a breeze came with it and stirred her hair

she had those purple shadows under her eyes which betray us after long sleepless hours when we live with our troubles and the world dreams around us she had no color at all in her cheeks and she had that aloofness of manner which manly in his outburst, had described as being shut up inside herself. She glanced up at them, just as she would have done had they both been strangers, and went on sugaring her coffee with a dainty exactness, which, under the circumstances, seemed altogether too elaborate to be unconscious. Good morning, she greeted them quietly. I think we must be the laziest people in town. At any rate, we seem to be the lest people in town.

latest risers. Kent stared at her, frankly, so that she flushed a little under the scrutiny. Manly consciously avoided looking at her and muttered something unintelligible while he pulled out a chair three places distant from her. Val stole a sidelong measuring look at her husband, while she took a sip of coffee, and then her eyes turned upon Kent. More than ever, it seemed to him, they resembled the eyes of a lioness watching you quietly from the corner of her cage. You could look at them, but you could not look into them. Always they met your gaze with a baffling veil of inscrutability. But they were darker than the eyes of a lioness.

There were human eyes, woman eyes, alluring eyes. She did not say a word, and, after a brief stare, which might have meant almost anything, she turned to her plate of toast and broke away the burned edges of a slice and nibbled at the passable center as if she had no trouble beyond a rather unsatisfactory breakfast. It was foolish, it was childish,

for three people who knew one another very well to sit and pretend to eat, and to speak no word, so Kent thought, and tried to break the silence with some remark which would not sound constrained. "'It's going to storm,' he flung into the silence, like chucking a rock into a pond. "'Do you think so?' Val asked languidly,

just grazing him with a glance in that inattentive way she sometimes had. "'Are you going out home, or what's left of it, today, manly?' She did not look at him at all, Kent observed. I don't know. I'll have to hire a team. I'll see what... Mrs. Hawley thinks we ought to stay here for a few days, or that I ought, while you make arrangements for building a new stable and all that. If you want to stay, mainly agreed rather eagerly, why of course you can. There's nothing out there to...

Oh, it doesn't matter in the slightest degree where I stay. I only mentioned it because I promised her I would speak to you about it. There was more than languor in her tone. They're going to start the fireworks pretty quick. Kent mentally diagnosed the situation and rose hurriedly. Well, I've got to hunt a horse myself and pull out for the wishbone, he explained gratuitously. ought to have gone last night. Goodbye.

He closed the door. behind him and shrugged his shoulders. Now they can fight it out, he told himself. Glad I ain't a married man. However, they did not fight it out then. Kent had no more than reached the office when Val rose, hoped that Manley would please excuse her, and left the room also.

Manley heard her go upstairs, found out from Arlene what was the number of Val's room, and followed her. the door was locked but when he rapped upon it val opened it an inch and held it so val let me in i want to talk with you i-god knows how sorry i am if he does that ought to be sufficient she answered coldly i don't feel like talking now especially upon the subject you would choose you're a man supposedly you must know what it is your duty to do please let us not discuss it now or ever but val i don't want to talk about it i tell you i won't i can't you you must do you must do what you must do without the conventional confession and absolution. You must have some sort of conscience. Let that receive your penitence. She started to close the door, but he caught it with his hand.

Val, do you hate me? She looked at him for a moment, as if she were trying to decide. No, she said at last. I don't think I do. I'm quite sure that I do not. But I'm terribly hurt and disappointed. She closed the door, then, and turned the key. Manley stood for a moment rather blankly before it, then put his hands as deep in his pockets as they would go, and went slowly down the stairs. At that moment he did not feel particularly penitent.

He would not listen to the conventional confession. That girl can be hard as nails, he muttered under his breath. he went into the office got a cigar and lighted it moodily he glanced at the bottles ranged upon the shelves behind the bar drew in his breath for speech let it go in a sigh and walked out he knew perfectly well what belle had meant she had deliberately thrown him back upon his own strength he had fallen by himself he must pick himself up and she would stand back and watch the struggle and judge him according to his failure or his success he had a dim sense that it was a dangerous experiment he looked for kent found him just as he was mounting at the stables and let him go almost without a word after all no one could help him he stood there smoking after kent had gone and when his cigar was finished he wandered back to the hotel as was always the case after hard drinking he had a splitting headache he got a room as close to val's as he could shut himself into it and gave himself up to his headache and to gloomy meditation all day he lay upon the bed and part of the time he slept at supper time he rapped upon val's door got no answer and went down alone to find her in the dining-room there was an empty chair beside her and he took it as is right

she talked a little about the fire and the damage it had done she said she was worried because she had forgotten to bring the cat and what would it find to eat out there everything's burned perfectly black for miles and miles you know she reminded him they left the room together and he followed her upstairs and to her door this time she did not shut him out and he went in and sat down by the winter and looked out upon the meagre little street never in the years he had known her had she been so far from him he watched her covertly while she searched for something in her suit-case i'm afraid i didn't bring enough clothes to last more than a day or two she remarked i couldn't seem to think of anything that night arline did most of the packing for me i'm afraid i misjudged that woman manly there's a good deal to her after all but she is funny val i want to tell you i'm going to-to be different i've been a beast but i'm going to-so much he had rushed out before she could freeze him to silence again "'I hope so,' she cut in as he hesitated. "'That is something you must judge for yourself, and do by yourself. "'Do you think you will be able to get a team tomorrow?'

"'Oh, to hell with a team!' Manly exploded. Val dropped her hairbrush upon the floor. "'Manly Fleetwood! Has it come to that also?' "'Isn't it enough to—' she choked. Manly, you can be a drunken sot if you choose. I've no power to prevent you. But you shall not swear in my presence. I thought you had some of the instincts of a gentleman, but—

She set her teeth hard together. She was white around the mouth, and her whole slim body was a quiver with outraged dignity. There was something queer in Manley's eyes as he looked at her, the length of the tiny room between them. Oh, I beg your pardon. I remember now your Fern Hill ethics. I may go to hell for all of you.

You will simply hold back your immaculate moral skirts so that I may pass without smirching them. But I must not mention my destination. That is so unrefined. He got up from the chair with a laugh that was almost a snort. You refused to discuss a certain subject, though it's almost a matter of life and death with me. At least it was. Your happiness in my own was at stake, I thought.

But it's all right. I needn't have worried about it. I still have some of the instincts of a gentleman, and your pure ears shall not be offended by any profanity or any disagreeable conventional confessions. The absolution let me say, I expected to do without. He started, full of some secret intent, for the door.

Val humanized suddenly. By the time his fingers touched the doorknob, she had read his purpose, had readied his side, and was clutching his arm with both her hands. Manly Fleetwood, what are you going to do? She was actually panting with a jump of her heart. He turned the knob so that the top of her heart. The latch clicked.

Get drunk. Be the drunken sot you expect me to be. Go to that vulgar place which I must not mention in your presence. Let go my arm, Val. She was all woman then. She pulled him away from the door and the unnamed horror which lay outside. She was not the crying sort, but she cried just the same, heartbrokenly, her head against his shoulder, as if she herself. were the sinner. She clung to him. She begged him to forgive her hardness.

She learned something which every woman must learn if she would keep a little happiness in her life. She learned how to forgive the man she loved and to trust him afterward. End of Chapter 12. Chapter 13 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. B. M. B. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. 13. Arlene gives a dance. A house, it would seem, is almost the least important part of a ranch. One can camp with frying pan and blankets in the shade of a bush or the shelter of canvas.

But to do anything upon a ranch, one must have many things, burnable things, for the most part, as Manley was to learn by experience when he left Val at the hotel and rode out the next day to cold spring cooling. To ride over twenty miles of blackness is depressing enough in itself, but to find at the end of the journey that one's work has all gone for nothing, and one's money and one's plans and hopes is worse than depressing. Manley sat upon his horse and gazed rather blankly at the heap of black cinders that had been his haystacks, and at the cold embers where he stood his stables, and at the warped bits of iron that had been his buckboard, his wagon, his rake and more, all the things he had gathered around him in the three years he had spent upon the place. The house merely emphasized his loss. He got down, picked up the cat, which was mule.

plaintively beside his horse, snuggled it into his arms, and remounted. Val had told him to be sure and find the cat and bring it back with him. His horses and his cattle, not many to be sure, in that land of large holdings, were scattered, and it would take the round-up to gather them together again. So the cat and the horse he rode, the bleak coolly, and the unattractive little house with its three rooms, and its meager porch, were all that he could visualize as his worldly possessions. And when he thought of his bank account, he winced mentally.

Before snow fell, he would be debt-ridden, the best he could do, for he must have a stable and a corral and hay and a wagon, and he refused to remind himself of all the things he must have if he would stay on the ranch. His was not a strong nature at best, and now he should, shrank from facing his misfortune and wanted only to get away from the place. He loped his horse halfway up the hill, which was not merciful riding. The half-starved cat yowled in his arms and struck her claws through his coat till he felt the prick of them, and he swore at the cat nominally, but really at the trick fate had played upon him.

For a week he dallyed in town without harder courage, though velder, urged him to buy lumber and build and cheered him as best she could he did make a half-hearted attempt to get lumber to the place but there seemed to be no team in town which he could hire everyone was busy and put him off he tried to buy hay of bloominthal of the wishbone of every man he met who had hay no one had any hay to sell however blumenthal complained that he was short himself and would buy if he could rather than sell the wishbone foreman declared profanely that hay was going to be worth a dollar a pound to them before spring they were all sorry for manly and told him he was sure playing tough luck but they couldn't sell any hay that was certain but we must manage somehow to fix the place so we can live on it this winter val would insist on it this winter val would insist on it insist, when he told her how every move seemed blocked. You're very brave, dear, and I'm proud of the way you're holding out. But hope is not a good place for you.

It would be foolish to stay in town. Can't you buy enough hay here in town, bailed hay from the store, to keep our horses through the winter? Well, I tried, Manly responded, gloomily. But Brinberg is nearly out. He's expecting a car load in, but it hasn't come yet. He said he'd let me know when it gets here. Meanwhile, the days slipped away,

and imperceptibly the heat and haze of the fires gave place to bright sunlight and chill winds, and then to the chill winds without the sunshine. One morning the ground was frozen hard, and all the roofs gleamed white with the heavy frost. Arlene bestirred herself, and had a heating stove set up in the parlor and val went down to the dry heat and the peculiar odor of a rusted stove in the flush of its first fire since spring the next day as she sat by her window upstairs she looked out at the first nip of winter a few great snowflakes drifted down from the slaty sky a puff of wind sent them dancing down the street shook more down and whirled them giddily

then the storm came and swept through the little street and whined lonesomely around the hotel over at the saloon pop's place it proclaimed itself in washed-out lettering three tied horses circled uneasily until they were standing back to the storm their bodies hunched together with the chill of it their tails whipping between their legs they accentuated the blank dreariness of the empty street the snow was whitening their rumps and clinging in tiny drifts upon the saddle skirts behind the candles all the little hollows of the rough frozen ground were filling slowly making white patches against the brown of the earth patches which widened and widened until they met and the whole street was blanketed with fresh untroddened snow val shivered suddenly and hurried downstairs where the air was warm and all esteem with cooking, and the odor of frying onions smote the nostrils like a blow in the face. I suppose we must stay here now till the storm is over, she sighed when she met manly at dinner. But as soon as it clears, we must go back to the ranch. I simply cannot endure another week of it. You're getting uneasy, I seen that two or three days ago, said Arlene, who had come into the dining-rifice, who had come into the dining-rifice,

with a tray of meat and vegetables and overheard her. You want to stay now till after the dance. There's going to be a dance Friday night, you know. Everybody's coming. You got to wait for that. I don't attend public dances, Val stated calmly. I am going home as soon as the storm clears, if Manley can buy a little hay and find our horses

and get some sort of a driving vehicle. well if he can't maybe he can round up a riding vehicle arline remarked dryly placing the meat before manly the potatoes before val and the gravy exactly between the two with mathematical precision i'm giving that dance myself you'll have to go i'm giving it in your honor in my why the idea it's good of you but and you're going and you're going to take your violin over and play us some pieces i tucked it into the rig and brought it in on purpose i planned out the whole thing driving out to your place in case you wasn't all burned up i made up my mind i was going to my mind i was going to be to give you a dance and get you acquainted with folks. You needn't to hang back. I've told everybody it was in your honor, and that you played the violin swell, and we'd have some real music. And I've sent to Chinook for the dance music, harp, two fiddles, and a coronet, and you ain't going to stall the whole thing now. I didn't mean to tell you the last minute, but you've got to have time to make up your

mind, you'll go to a public dance for once in your life. It ain't going to hurt you none. I've went, ever since I was big enough to reach up and grab hold of my partner, and I'm every bit as virtuous as you be. You're going, and you and man are going to head the Grand March. Val's face was flushed, her lips pursed, and her eyes wide. Plainly, she was not quite sure whether she was angry, amused, or, insulted. She descended straight to a purely feminine objection.

But I haven't a thing to wear, and— Oh, yes, you have! While you was dilly-dallying out in the front room that night, wondering whether you'd have hysterics or faint or what-all, I dug deep in that biggest trunk of yearn and fished up one of your party dresses, white satin it is, with embroidery all up and down the front, and slimsy lace. It's kind of, lo and behold, one of them. My white satin. Why, Mrs. Holly.

That, you must have brought the gown I wore to my farewell club reception. It has a train, and—why, the idea? You can cut off the trail. You got plenty of time, or you can pin it up. I didn't have time that night to see how the thing was made, and I took it because I found white skirts and stockings, and white satin slippers to go with it right-handy. You're a bride, and white'll be suitable, and the dance is in your honor.

Wear it just as it is, for all me. Show the folks what real clothes look like. I never seen a woman dressed up that way in my whole life. You wear it, Val, trail and all. I'll back you up in it, and tell folks it's my idea, not yarn. "'I'm not in the habit of apologizing to people for the clothes I wear,' Val lifted her chin haughtily. "'I am not at all sure that I shall go. In fact, I—' "'Oh, you'll go!' Arlene rested her arms upon her bony hips and snapped her meager jaws together.

"'You'll go, if I have to carry you over. I've sent for fifteen yards of Bunton to decorate the hall with. I ain't going to all that trouble for nothing. I ain't given a dance in honor of a certain person and then let that person stay away. You, why you'd queer yourself with the whole country, Val Fleetwood. You ain't got the least sign of an excuse. You got the clothes, and you ain't sick. There's a reason why you got to show up.

I ain't going into no details at present, but under the circumstances, it's a few. advisable. She smelled something burning then and bolted for the kitchen, where her sharp, rather nasal voice was heard, upbraiding Minnie for some neglect. Polycarb Jenks came in, eyed Val and Manly from under one lifted eyebrow, smiled skinnily, and pulled out her chair with a rasping noise, and sat down facing them. Instinctively Val refrained from speaking her mind about Arlene and her dance before, or polycarp, but afterward, in their own room, she grew rather eloquent upon the subject.

She would not go. She would not permit that woman to browbeat her into doing what she did not want to do, she said. In her honor, indeed, the impertinence of going to the bottom of her trunk and meddling with her clothes, with that reception gown of all others. The idea of wearing that gown to a frontier dance, even if she consented to go to such a dance. And expecting her to amuse the company by playing pieces on the violin? Well, why not? Manley was sitting rather apathetically upon the edge of the bed, his arms resting upon his knees, his eyes moodily studying the intricate rose patterns in the faded Brussels carpet.

They were the first words he had spoken. one might easily have doubted whether he had heard all Val said. Why not? Manly Fleetwood, do you mean to tell me? Why not go and get acquainted, and quit feeling that you're a pearl cast among swine? It strikes me the holly person as pretty level-headed on the subject. If you're going to live in this country, why not quit thinking how out of place you are, and how superior, and meet up. us all on a level. It won't hurt you to go to that dance, and I won't hurt you to play for them,

if they want you to. You can play, you know. You used to play at all the musical doings in Fern Hill, and even in the city sometimes. And let me tell you, Val, we aren't quite savages out here. I've even suspected sometimes that we're just as good as Fern Hill. We? Vell looked at steadily. So you wish to identify yourself with these people, with polycarp Jenks and Arlene Hawley and... Why not? They're shaky on grammar, and their manners could stand a little polish, but aside from that, they're exactly like the people you've lived among all your life. Sure, I wish to identify myself with them. I'm just a rancher. Pretty small punkins, too, among all these big outfits, and you're a rancher's wife.

The holly person could buy us out for cash tomorrow if she wanted to, and never miss the money. And, Val, she's giving that dance in your honor. You ought to appreciate that. The holly doesn't take a fancy to every woman she sees, and let me tell you, she stands ace high in this country. If she didn't like you, she could make you wish she'd did. Well, upon my word, I begin to suspect you of being a humorist, Manly. And even if you mean that seriously, why, it's all the funnier! To prove it, she laughed. Manly hesitated, then left the room

with a snort, a scowl, and a slam of the door, and the sound of Val's laughter followed him down the stairs. Arlene came up, her arms full of white satin, white lace, white cambric, and the toes of two white satin slippers, showing just above the top of her apron pockets. She walked briskly in and deposited her burden upon the bed. "'My, them's the nicest smelling things I ever had a hold of,' she observed. And still they don't seem to smell either. Must be a dandy perfumery you've got. I brought up the things, seeing you know they're here, I thought you could take your time about cutting off the trail and filling in the neck and sleeves. She sat down upon the foot of the bed,

carefully tucking her gingham apron close about her so that it might not come in contact with the other. I never did see such clothes, she sighed. I don't know how you'll ever get a chance to wear him out in this country. Seems to me they're most too pretty to wear any. I can get Marthy Winters to come over and help you. She does sewing, and you can use my machine any time you want to. I'd take a hold myself if I didn't have all the backing to do for the dance. That men can't learn nothing, seems like. I can't trust her to do a thing, hardly, unless I stand right over her. Breed girls ain't much account, ever, but they're all that'll work out in this country, seems like.

Sometimes I swear I'll get a chink and be done with it, only I got to have somebody I can talk to once in a while. I could never talk to a chink. They don't seem hardly human to me. Do they to you? And say, I've got some all-over lace. It's e-cru, that you can fill in the neck with. You're welcome to use it.

There's most a yard of it, and I won't never find a use for it. Or I was thinking, there'll be enough cutting off the trail to make a gamp of the satin sleeves and all she lifted the shining stuff with manifest awe it does seem ashamed to put the shears to it but you'll never get anywhere out of it the way it is and i don't believe miss holly shrilled the voice of minnie at the foot of the stairs there's a couple of drummers off in the train and they want supper and what'll i give em my heavens that girl'll drive me crazy sure arline hurried to the door don't take the roof off in the house she cried querulously down the stairway i'm comin val had not spoken a word she went over to the bed lifted a fold of satin and smiled down at it ironically mamma and i spent a whole month planning and sewing and gloating over you she went over to the bed lifted a fold of satin and smiled down at it ironically mamma and i spent a whole month planning and sewing and gloating over you she said aloud you were almost as important as a wedding-gown the club's farewell reception to what base uses we do oh here's your slippers arline thrust half her body into the room and held the slippers out to val i stuck em into my pockets to bring up and forgot all about em mind you till i was handing the drummer their tea

and one of em happened to notice em and raised right up out of his chair and said cinderella sure as i live say if there's a foot in this town that'll go into them slippers for god's sake introduce me to the owner. I told him to mind his own business. Drummers do get awful fresh when they think they can get away with it. She departed in a hurry as usual. Every day after that, Arlene talked about altering the satin gown. Every day Val was non-committal and unenthusiastic. Occasionally she told Arlene that she was not going to the dance, but Arlene declined to take seriously so preposterous a declaration. You want to break a leg, then, she told Val grimly on Thursday.

That's the only excuse that'll go down with this bunch. And you better get a move on. It comes off tomorrow night, remember? I won't go, Manly, Val consoled herself by declaring again and again. The idea of Arlene Hawley ordering me about like a child, Why should I go if I don't care to? Search me, Manly shrugged his shoulders.

It isn't so long, though, since you were just as determined to stay and have the shivery, you remember. Well, you and Mr. Burnett tried to do exactly what Arlene is doing. You seem to think I was a child to be ordered about. At the very last minute, to be explicit, an hour before the home. was lighted, several hours after smoke first began to rise from the chimney, Val suddenly swerved to a reckless mood. Arlene had gone to her own room to dress, too angry to speak what was in her mind. She had worked since five o'clock that morning. She had bullied Val, she had argued, she had begged, she had wheedled. Val would not go. Arlene had appealed to Manly, and Manley

had assured her, with a suspicious slurring of his s's, that he was out of it and had nothing to say. Val, he said, could not be driven. It was after Arlene had gone to her room, and Manley had returned to the office, that Val suddenly picked up her hairbrush, and, with an impish light in her eyes, began to pile her hair high upon her head. With her lips curved to match the mockery of her eyes, eyes, she began hurriedly to dress.

Later she went down to the parlor, where four women from the neighboring ranches were sitting stiffly and in constrained silence, waiting to be escorted to the hall. She swept in upon them, a glorious shimmery creature, all in white and gold. The woman stood, wavered, and looked away, at the wall, the floor, at anything but Val's bare white shoulders, and arms as white. Arlene had forgotten to look for gloves. Val read the consternation in their

weather-tanned faces and smiled in wicked enjoyment. She would shock all of hope. She would shock even Arlene, who had insisted upon this. Like a child in mischief, she turned and went rustling down the ball to the dining-room. She wanted to show Arlene. She had not thought of the possibility. of finding anyone but Arlene and Minnie there, so that she was taken slightly aback when she discovered Kent and another man eating a belated supper. Kent looked up, eyed her sharply for just an instant, and smiled. "'Good evening, Mrs. Fleetwood,' he said calmly. "'Ready for the ball, I see. We got in late.'

He went on spreading butter upon his bread, evidently quite. unimpressed by her magnificence. The other man stared fixedly at his plate. It was a trifle, but Val suddenly felt foolish and ashamed. She took a step or two toward the kitchen, then retreated. Down the hall she went, up the stairs, and into her own room, the door of which she shut and locked. Such a fool, she whispered vehemently, and stamped her white shirt.

shod foot upon the carpet. He looked perfectly disgusted, and so did that other man. And no wonder. Such, it's vulgar, Val Fleetwood. It's just ill-bred and coarse and horrid. She threw herself upon the bed and put her face in the pillow. Someone, she thought it sounded like manly, came up and tried the door, stood a moment before it,

and went away again arline's voice sharpened with displeasure she heard speaking to many upon the stairs they went down and there was a confusion of voices below in the street beneath her window footsteps sounded intermittently coming and going with a certain eagerness of tread after a time there came from a distance the sound of violins and the coronet of which arline had been so proud, and mingled with it was an undercurrent of shuffling feet, a mere whisper of sound, cut sharply now and then by the sharp commands of the floor manager. They were dancing, in her honor, and she was a fool, a proud, ill-tempered, selfish, fool. With one of her quick changes of mood, she rose, patted her hair smooth, caught up a rap, oddly, inharmonious with the gown and slippers, looped her train over her arm,

took her violin, and ran lightly downstairs. The parlor, the dining room, the kitchen, were deserted, and the lights turned low. She braced herself mentally, and, flushing at the unaccustomed act, wrapped timidly upon the door which opened into the office, which by that time she knew was really a saloon. holly himself opened the door and in his eyes bulged at sight of her is mr fleetwood here i-i thought after all i'd go to the dance she said in rather a timid voice shrinking back into the shadow

"'Fleetwood? Why, I guess he's gone on over. He said you wasn't going. You wait a minute. I—here, Kent! You take Mrs. Fleetwood over to the hall. Man's gone. Oh, no, I—' really, it doesn't matter.' But Kent had already thrown away a cigarette and come out to her, closing the door immediately after him. "'I'll take you over. I was just—' going anyway, he assured her, his eyes dwelling upon her rather intently. Oh, I wanted manly. I hate to go, like this. It seems so, so queer in this place. At first I, I thought it would be a joke. But it isn't. It's silly and, and ill-bred.

You, everybody will be shocked, and... Kent took a step toward. Kent took a step toward, her, where she was shrinking against the stairway. Once before she had lost her calm composure and had let him peep into her mind. Then it had been on account of manly. Now, womanlike, it was her clothes. You couldn't be anything but all right if you tried, he told her, speaking softly. It isn't silly to look the way the Lord meant you to look. You—you—oh, you needn't worry.

Nobody's going to be shocked very hard. He reached out and took the violin from her, took also her arm, and opened the outer door. You're late, he said, speaking in a more commonplace tone. You ought to have overshoes or something. Those white slippers won't be so white time you get there. Maybe I ought to carry you. The idea!

She stepped out daintily upon the slushy walk. Well, I can take you a block or two around and have sidewalk all the way. That'll help some. Women sure have a lot of bother. I'm plumsarry for the poor devils that get inveigled into marrying one. Why, Mr. Burnett, do you always talk like that? Because if you do, I don't wonder... No, can't...

interrupted, looking down at her and smiling grimly. As it happens, I don't. I'm real nice, generally speaking. Say, this is going to be a good deal of trouble, do you know? After you dance with hubby, you've got to waltz with me. Got to? Val raised her eyebrows, though the expression was lost upon him. Sure, look at the way I work like a horse,

saving your life and the cats, and now leading you all over town to keep those nice white slippers clean. By rights, you oughtn't to dance with anybody else, but I ain't looking for real gratitude. Four or five waltzes is all I'll insist on, but—his tone was lugubrious in the extreme. Well, I'll waltz with you once, for saving the cat, and once for saving the slippers. For saving me, I'm not sure that I thank you. Val stepped carefully over a muddy spot on the walk. Mr. Burnett, you—really, you're an awfully queer, man. Kent walked to the next crossing and helped her over it before he answered her.

Yes, he admitted soberly then. I reckon you're right. I am, queer. End of Chapter 13. chapter fourteen of lonesome land by b m bower this libervox recording is in the public domain chapter fourteen a wedding present sunday it was and val had insisted stubbornly upon going back to the ranch somewhat to her surprise if one might judge by her face arline holly no longer demurred but put up lunch enough for a week almost and announced that she was going along hank would have to drive out to bring back the team and she said she needed a rest after all the work and worry of that dance manly upon whose account it was that val was so anxious seemed to have nothing whatever to say about it he was sullenly acquiescent as was perhaps to be expected of a man who had slipped into his old habits and despised himself for doing so and almost hated his wife because she had discovered it and said nothing val was thankful during that long bleak ride over the prairie for arline's incessant chatter it was better than silence when the silence means bitter thoughts

now said arline moving excitedly in her seat when they neared cold spring coolly maybe i better tell you that the folks around here has kind of planned a little surprise for you they don't make much of a showin about being neighborly not when things go smooth but they're right there when trouble comes it's just a little weddon present and if it comes kind of late in the day why you don't want to mind that my dance that i gave was a wedding party too if you care to call it that anyway it was to raise the money to pay for our present as far as it went and i want to tell you right now val that you was sure the queen of the ball everybody said you looked just like a queen in a picture and i never heard a word against your low-neck dress it looked all right on you don't you see on me for instance it would have been something for fears. And I'm real glad you took a hold and danced like you did, and never passed nobody up, like some would have done. You'll be glad you did, now you know what it was for. Even danced with polycarp janks, and there ain't hardly any woman, but that'll turn him down. I'll bet he tromped all over your toes, didn't he? Sometimes, Belle admitted, what about the surprise you were speaking of,

Mrs. Holly? It does seem as if you might call me Arlene, she complained irreverently. We're coming to that, don't you worry. Is it a piano? My lands, no. You don't need a fiddle and a piano both, do you? Man, what did you rather have for a wedding present? Manly, upon the front seat beside Hank, gave his shoulders an impatient twitch. fifty thousand dollars he replied glumly i'm glad you're real modest about it arline retorted sharply she was beginning to tell herself quite frequently that she didn't have no time for man fleetwood seeing he wouldn't brace up and quit drinking

val's lips curled as she looked at manly's back what i should like she said distinctly is a great big pile of wood all cut and ready for the stove and water-pails that never would go empty it's astonishing how one's desires eventually narrowed down to bare essentials isn't it but as we near the place i find those two things more desirable than a piano then she bit her lip angrily because she had permitted herself to give the thrust why you poor thing man fleetwood do you val impulsively caught her by the arm oh hush i was only joking she said hastily i was trying to balance manley's wish for fifty thousand dollars don't you see it was stupid of me i know she laughed unconvincingly let me guess what the surprise is first is it large or small kind of big tittered arline falling into the spirit of the joke bigger than a wait now a sewing machine arline covered her mouth with her hand and nodded dumbly you say all the neighbors gave it and the dance helped pay for it let me see could it possibly be what in the world could it be manly help me guess is it something useful or just something nice useful said arline and snapped her jaws together as if she feared to let another word loose larger than a sewing machine and useful val puckered her brows over the puzzle and all the neighbors gave it do you know i've been thinking all sorts of nasty nassau's

things about our poor neighbors because they refused to sell manly any hay and all the while there were planning this sur she never finished that sentence or the word even with a jolt over a rock and a sharp turn to the right hank had brought them to the very brow of the hill where they could look down into the coolly and upon the house standing in its tiny unkempt yard just beyond the sparse growth of bushes which marked the Spring Creek. Involuntarily, every head turned that way, and every pair of eyes looked downward. Hank tripped to the horses, threw all his weight upon the brake, and they rattled down the grade, the brake-block squealing against the rear wheels. They were halfway down before anyone spoke. It was Val, and she almost whispered one word. "'Manly!' arline's eyes were wet and there was a croak in her voice when she cried jubilantly well ain't that better in a sewing-machine or a piano

but val did not attempt an answer she was staring staring as if she could not convince herself of the reality even manly was jarred out of his gloomy meditations and half rose in the seat that he might see over hank's shoulder that's what your neighbors have done arline began eagerly and they nearly busted trying to get through in time and to keep it a dead secret they worked like whiteheads let me tell you and never even stopped for the storm the night of the dance i heard all about how they had to hurry and i guess kent's there and got a fire started like i told em to i was afraid it might be colderin what it is I asked him if he wouldn't ride over and warm up the house today, and I see there's a smoke all right. She looked at Manly, and then turned to Val. Well, ain't you going to say anything? You dumb, both of you?

Val took a deep breath. We should be dumb, she said contritely. We should go down on our knees and beg their pardon, and yours, aye, especially. i think i've never in my life felt quite so humbled so overwhelmed with the goodness of my fellows and my own unworthiness i-i can't put it into words all the resentment i have felt against the country and the people in it as if oh tell them all how i want them to forgive me for-for the way i have felt and arline there now i didn't bargain for you to make it so serious Arlene expostulated, herself near to crying. It ain't nothing much. Us folks believe in helping when help's needed, that's all.

For heaven's sake, don't go and cry about it. Hank pulled up at the gate with a loud, whoa, and a grip of the break. From the kitchen stovepipe, a blue ribbon of smoke waved high in the clean air. Kent appeared, grinning amiably, in the doorway, but val was looking beyond and scarcely saw him beyond where stood a new stable upon the ashes of the old a new corral the posts standing solidly in the holes dug for those burned away a new haystack when hay was almost priceless a few chickens wandered about near the stable and val recognized them as arline's prized plymouth rocks small wonder that she and manly were stunned to silence manly still looked as if some one had dealt him an unexpected blow in the face val was white and wide-eyed together they walked out to the stable when they stopped she put her hand timidly upon his arm dear she said softly there is only one way to thank them for this and that is to be the very best it is in

us to be. We will, won't we? We, we haven't been our best, but we'll start in right now. Shall we, Manley? Manly looked down at her for a moment, saying nothing. Shall we, Manley? Let us start now and try again. Let's play the fire burned up our old selves, and we're all new and strong, shall we? And we won't feel any resentment for what is past. but we'll work together and think together and talk together without any hidden thing we can't discuss freely please manly he knew what she meant well enough for the last two days he had been drinking again on the night of the dance he had barely kept within the limit of decent behavior he had read val's complete understanding and her disgust the morning after and since then they had been barely spoken except when speech was necessary oh he knew what she meant he stood for another minute and she let go his arm and stood apart watching his face a good deal depended upon the next minute and they both knew it and hardly breathed his hand went slowly into a deep pocket of his overcoat his fingers closed over something and drew it reluctantly to the light

shamefaced he held it up for her to see a flat bottle of generous size full to within an inch of the cork with a pale yellow liquid there take it and break it into a million pieces he said huskily i'll try again her yellow-brown eyes darkened perceptibly manly fleetwood you must throw it away this is your fight be a man and fight well there may god damn me forever if i touch liquor again i'm through with the stuff for keeps he held the bottle high without looking at it and sent it crashing against the stable door manly she stopped her ears aghast at his words but for all that her eyes were a shine she went up to him and put her arms around him now we can start all over again she said we'll count our lives from this minute dear and we'll keep them clean and happy oh i'm so glad so glad and so proud dear kent had got half-way down the path from the house he stopped when manly threw the bottle and waited now he turned abruptly and retraced his steps and he did not look particularly happy though he had been smiling when he left the kitchen arline turned from the window as he entered looks like man has swore off again he observed dryly well let's hope and pray he stays swore off end of chapter fourteen chapter fifteen of lonesome land by b m b m bower

this libervox recording is in the public domain chapter fifteen a compact the blackened prairie was fast hiding the mark of its fire torture under a cloak of a new grass, vividly green as a freshly watered, well-kept lawn. Meadow larks hopped here and there, searching long for a sheltered nesting place, and missing the weeds where they were wont to sway and swell their yellow breasts and sing at the sun. They sang just as happily, however, on their short, low flights over the levels, or sitting upon gray half-buried boulders upon some barren hilltop. spring had come with lavish warmth the smoke of burning ranges the bleak winter with its sweeping storms of snow and wind were pushed into the past half forgotten in this new heaven and new earth when men were glad simply because they were alive on a still sunday morning that day which when work does not press is set apart in the range land for slight errands attention to one's personal affair

and to the pursuit of pleasure, Kent jogged placidly down the long hill into Cold Spring coolly and pulled up at the familiar little unpainted house of rough boards with its incongruously dainty curtains at the windows and its tiny yard, green and scrupulously clean. The cat with white spots on its sides was washing its face on the kitchen doorstep. val was kneeling beside the front porch painstakingly stringing white grocery twine upon nails which she drove into the rough posts with a small rock the primitive trellis which resulted was obviously intended for the future encouragement of the sweet pea plants just unfolding their second clusters of leaves an inch above ground she did not see kent at first and he sat quiet in his saddle watching her with a flicker of amusement in his eyes but in a moment she struck her finger and sprang up with a sharp little cry throwing the rock from her didn't you know that was going to happen sooner or later kent inquired and so made known his presence oh how do you do she came smiling down to the gate holding the door

the hurt finger tightly clasped in the other hand. How comes it you're riding this way? Our trail is all growing up to grass, so few ever travel it. We're all hard-working folks these days. Where's man? Manly is down to the river, I think. She rested both arms upon the gate-post and regarded him with her steady eyes. If you can wait, he will be back soon.

he only went to see if the river is fordable he thinks two or three of our horses are on the other side and he'd like to get them the river has been too high but it's lowering rather fast won't you come in she was pleasant she was unusually friendly but kent felt vaguely that somehow she was different he had not seen her for three months just after christmas he had met her in manly in town when he was about to leave for a visit to his people in nebraska he had returned only a week or so before and if the truth were known he was not displeased at the errand which brought him this way he dismounted and when she moved away from the gate he opened it and went in well he began lightly when he was seated upon the floor of the porch and she was back at her trellis and how's the world been treating you had any more calamities while i've been gone she busied herself with tying together two pieces of string so that the hole would reach to a certain nail driven higher than her head she stood with both hands uplifted and her face and her eyes she did not reply for so long that kent began to wonder if she had heard him there was no reason why he should watch her so intently or why he should want to get up and push back the one lock of hair which seemed always in rebellion and always falling across her temple by itself. He was drifting into a dreamy wonder that all women with yellow-brown hair

should not be given yellow-brown eyes also, and to wishing vaguely that it might be his luck to meet one sometime, one who was not married, when she looked down at him quite unexpectedly. He was startled and half ashamed, and afraid that she might not like what he had been thinking. She was staring straight into his eyes, and he knew that she was thinking of something that affected her a good deal. Unless it's a calamity to discover that the world is, what it is and people in it are, what they are, and that you have been a blind idiot.

Is that a calamity, Mr. Cowboy? Or is it a blessing? I've been wondering. Kent discovered, when he started to speak, that he had run short of breath. breath. I reckon that depends on how the discovery pans out, he ventured after a moment. He was not looking at her then. For some reason, unexplained to himself, he felt that it wasn't right for him to look at her, nor wise, nor quite pleasant in its effect. He did not know exactly what she meant, but he knew very well that she meant something more than to make

conversation. That, she said, and gave a little sigh. That takes so long, don't you know? The panning out, as you call it? It's hard to see things very clearly, and to make a decision that you know is going to stand the test, and then, just sit down and fold your hands, because some sorted pretty little reason absolutely prevents you're doing anything. I hate waiting for anything.

don't you? When I want to do a thing, I want to do it immediately. These sweet peas. Now I've fixed the trellis for them to climb upon. I resent it because they don't take hold right now. Nasty little things. Two inches high when they should be two yards, and all covered with beautiful blossoms.

Not the last of April, he qualified. Give them a fair chance, can't you? They'll make it all right. Things take time. She laughed surrenderingly, and came and sat down upon the porch near him, and tapped a slipper toe nervously upon the soft green sod. Time, yes!

She threw back her head and smiled at him brightly, and appealingly it seemed to Kent. You remember what you told me once, about sheep herders and such going crazy out here? The such is sometimes ready to agree with you. She turned her head with a quick impatience. Such is learning to ride a horse, she informed him eerily. Such does it on the sly, and she fell off once and skinned her elbow, and she, well, such hasn't any side-saddle, but she's learning by granny. Kent laughed unsteadily and looked sidelong at her with

eyes alight. She matched the glance for just about one second, and turned her eyes away with a certain consciousness that gave Kent a savage delight. Of a truth, she was different. She was human, she was intolerably alluring. She was not the prim, perfectly well-bred young woman he had met at the train. Lonesome Land was doing its work. She was beginning to think as an individual, as a woman, not merely as a member of conventional society. Such is beginning to be the proper stuff by Granny, he told her softly. He was afraid his tone had offended her. She rose, and her color flared and faded.

She leaned slightly against the post beside her, and with a hand thrown up and half-shielding her face, she stared out across the coolly to the hill beyond. did you i feel like a fool for talking like this but one sometimes clutches at the least glimmer of sympathy and-and understanding and speaks what should be kept bottled up inside i suppose but i've been bottled up for so long she struck her free hand suddenly against her lips as if she would apply physical force to keep them from losing all self-control when she spoke again her voice was calmer did you ever get to the point mr cowboy where you you dug right down to the bottom of things and found that you must do something or go mad and there wasn't a thing you could do did you ever she did not turn toward him but kept her eyes to the hills when he did not answer however she swung her head slowly and looked down at him where he sat almost at her feet Kent was leaning forward, studying the gashes he had cut in the sod with his spurs.

His brows were knitted close. I kind of think I'm getting there pretty fast, he owned gravely when he felt her gaze upon him. Why? Oh, because you can understand how one must speak sometimes. Ever since I came, you have been, I don't know, different. At first I didn't like you at all, but I could see you were different. Since then, well, you have now and then said something that made me see one could speak to you, and you would understand. So I—' She broke off suddenly and laughed an apology.

Am I boring you dreadfully? One grows so self-centered living alone. If you aren't interested—I am. Kent was obliged to clear his throat to get those two words out. Go on, say all you want to say. She laughed again, wearily. Lately, she confessed nervously, I've taken to telling my thoughts to the cat.

It's perfectly safe, but, after all, it isn't quite satisfying. She stopped again and stood silent for a moment. It's because I am alone day after. day, week in and week out, she went on. In a way, I don't mind it. Under the circumstances, I prefer to be alone, really. I mean, I wouldn't want any of my people near me. But one has too much time to think.

I tell you this because I feel I ought to let you know that you were right that time. I don't suppose you even remember it, but I do. Once, last fall, the first time you came to the ranch, you know, the time I met you at the spring, you seemed to see that this big, lonesome country was a little too much for me. I resented it, then. I didn't want anyone to tell me what I refused to admit to myself. I was trying so hard to like it, it seemed my only hope, you see. But now, I'll tell you, you were right. Sometimes I feel very wicked about it.

Sometimes I don't care. And sometimes I feel I shall go crazy if I can't talk to someone. Nobody comes here, except polycarb janks. The only woman I know really well in the country is Arlene Hawley. She's good as gold, but she's intensely practical. You can't tell her your troubles, not unless they're concrete, and have to do with your physical well-being, Arlene lacks imagination. She laughed again shortly.

I don't know why I'm taking it for granted you don't, she said. You think I'm talking poor nonsense, don't you, Mr. Cowboy. She turned full toward him, and her yellow-brown eyes challenged him, begged him for sympathy and understanding, held him at bay. but most of all they set his blood pounding sullenly in his veins. He got unsteadily to his feet. You seem to pass up a lot of things that count, or you wouldn't say that, he reminded her huskily. That night in town, just after the fire, for instance.

And here that same afternoon. I tried to jollow you out of feeling bad, both those times. But you know I understood. you know damn well I understood, and you know I was sorry, and if you don't know, I'd do anything on God's green earth. He turned sharply away from her, and stood kicking savagely backward at a clod with his rowl. Then he felt her hand touch his arm and started.

After that he stood perfectly still, except that he quivered like a frightened horse. Oh, it doesn't mean much to you. You have your life and you're a man and can do things when you want to. But I do so need a friend. Just somebody who understands, to whom I can talk when that is the only thing will keep me sane. You saved my life once, so I feel.

No, I don't mean that. It isn't because of anything you did. It's just that I feel I can talk to you more freely than to anyone I know. I don't mean wine. i hope i'm not a whiner if i've blundered i'm willing to to take my medicine as you would say but if i can feel that somewhere in this big empty country just one person will always feel kindly toward me and wish me well and be sorry for me when i-when i'm miserable and she could not go on she pressed her lips together tightly and winked back the tears kent faced about and laid both his hands upon her shoulders his face was very tender and rather sad and if she had only understood as well as he did but she did not little woman listen here he said you're playing hard luck and i know it maybe i don't know just how hard but maybe i can kind of give a guess if you'll think of me as your friend your pal and if you'll always tell yourself that your pal is going to stand by you no matter what comes why all right he caught his breath

she smiled up at him honestly pleased wholly without guile and wholly blind i'd rather have such a friend just now than anything i know except But if your sweetheart should object, could you— His fingers gripped her shoulders tighter for just a second, and he let her go. "'I guess that part'll be all right,' he rejoined in a tone she could not quite fathom. "'I never had one in my life.' "'Why, you poor thing!' she stood back and tilted her head at him. "'You poor pal! I'll have to see about that,

immediately. Every young man wants a sweetheart. At least all the young men I ever knew wanted one, and— And I'll gamble they all wanted the same one, he hinted wickedly, feeling himself unreasonably happy over something he could not quite put into words, even if he had dared. Oh, no, hardly ever the same one, luckily. Do you know, pal, I've quite forgotten what it was all about, the unburdening of my soul, I mean. After all, I think I must have been just lonesome. The country is just as big, but it isn't quite so, so empty, you see? Aren't you awfully vain to see how you have peopled it with your friendship?

She clasped her hands behind her, and regarded him speculatively. I hope, Mr. Cowboy, you're in earnest about this. observed, doubtfully. I hope you have imagination enough to see it isn't silly, because if I suspected you weren't playing fair and would go away and laugh at me, I'd scratch you. She nodded her head slowly at him.

I've always been told that, with tiger eyes, you find the disposition of a tiger. So if you don't mean it, you'd better let me know at once. Kent brought the color into her cheeks with his steady gaze. I was just getting scared. You didn't mean it, he averred. If my pal goes back on me, why, Lord helper. She took a slow, deep breath. How is it you men ratify a solemn agreement? she puzzled.

Oh, yes, with a pretty impulse she held out her right hand, half grave, half playful. Shake on it, pal. Kent took her hand and pressed it as hard as he dared. You're going to be a dandy little chum, he predicted gamely. But let me tell you right now, if you ever get up on your stilts with me, there's going to be all kinds of trouble. You call me Kent.

That is, he qualified with a little unsteady laugh, when there ain't anyone around to get shocked. i suppose this isn't quite conventional she conceded as if the thought had just then occurred to her but thank goodness out here there aren't any conventions every one lives as every one sees fit it isn't the best thing for some people she added drearily some people have to be bolstered up by convention or they can't help miring in their own weaknesses but we don't and as long as we understand she looked to him for confirmation as long as we understand why it ain't anybody's business but our own he declared steadily she seemed relieved of some lingering doubt that's exactly it i don't know why i should deny myself a friend just because that friend happens to be a man and i happen to be married i never did have much patience with the rule that a man must either be perfectly indifferent or else make love i'm so glad you understand so that's all settled she finished briskly and i find that as i said it isn't at all necessary for me to unburden my soul they stood quiet for a moment their thoughts too intangible for speech

come inside won't you she invited at last coming back to every day matters of course you're hungry or you ought to be you daren't run away from my cooking this time mr cowboy manly will be back soon i think i must get some lunch ready kent replied that he would stay outside and smoke so she left him with a fleeting smile infinitely friendly and confiding and glad he turned and looked after her soberly gave a great sigh and reached mechanically for his tobacco and papers thoughtfully rolled a cigarette lighted it and held the match until it burned quite down to his thumb and fingers pals he said just under his breath for the mere sound of the word all right pals it is then he smoked slowly listening to her moving about in the mouth house. Her steps came nearer. He turned to look. "'What was it you wanted to see Manly about?' she asked him from the doorway. "'I just happened to wonder what it could be.' "'Well, the wishbone needs men, and sent me over to tell him he can go to work.

The wagons are going to start to-morrow. He'll want to gather his cattle up, and of course we know about how he's fixed for saddle-horses and the like. He can work for the outfit and draw wages, and get his cattle thrown back on this range and his calves branded besides. Get paid for doing what he'll have to do anyhow, you see? I see. Val pushed back the rebellious lock of hair. Of course, you suggested the idea to the wishbone. You're always doing something. The outfit is short-handed, he reiterated. They need him.

They ain't straining a point to do man a favor. Don't you ever think it. Well, he's coming, he broke off and started to the gate. Manly clattered up, vociferously glad to greet him. Kent, at his urgent invitation, led his horse to the stable and turned him into the corral, unsaddled and unbridled him so that he could eat. Also he told his errands. Manley interrupted the conversation to produce a bottle of whiskey from a cunningly concealed hole in the depleted haystack and insisted that Kent should take a drink.

Kent waved it off and Manley drew the cork and held the bottle to his own lips. As he stood there with his face uplifted, while the yellow liquor gurgled down his throat, Kent watched him with a curiously detached interest. So that's how Manley had kept his vow, he was thinking, with an impersonal contempt. Four good swallows. Kent counted them. You're hitting it pretty strong, man, for a fellow that swore off last fall, he commented aloud. Manley took down the bottle, gave a sigh of pure animal satisfaction, and pushed the cork in with an unconsciously regretful movement. movement. A fellow's got to get something out of life, he defended peevishly.

I've had pretty hard luck. It's enough to drive a fellow to most any kind of relief. Burnt out last fall. Cattle scattered and calves running the range all winter. I haven't got stock enough to stand that sort of a deal, Kent. No telling where I stand now on the cattle question. I did have close to a hundred head, and three of my best geldings are missing. A poor man can't stand luck like that. I'm in debt, too, and when you've got an iceberg in the house, when a man's own wife don't stand by him, when he can't get any sympathy from the very one that ought to, but then I hope I'm a gentleman. I don't make any kick against her, My domestic affairs are my own affairs.

Sure, but when your wife freezes up solid, he held the bottle up and looked at it. Best friend I've got, he finished, with a whining note in his voice. Kent turned away disgusted. Manly had coarsened. He had slopped down just when he should have braced up and caught the fighting spirit, the spirit that fights and overcomes obstacles. with a tightening of his chest he thought of his pal tied for life to this whining drunkard no wonder she felt the need for a friend

well are you going out with the wishbone he asked tersely jerking his thoughts back to his errand if you are you'll need to go over there to-night the wagon starts out to-morrow maybe you better ride around by polly's place and have him come over here once in a while to look after things. You can't leave your wife alone without somebody to kind of keep an eye out for her, you know. Polycarp ain't going to ride this spring. He's got rheumatism, or some darn thing. But he can chop what wood she'll need, and go to town for her once in a while, and make sure she's all right. You better leave your gentle horse here for her to use, too. She can't be left afoot out here. manley was taking another long swallow from the bottle but he heard why sure i never thought about that i guess maybe i had better get polycarp but val could make out all right alone why she's held it down here for a week at a time last winter when i'd forgot to come home he winked shamelessly or a storm would come up so i couldn't get home

val isn't like some fool women i'll say that much for her she don't care whether i'm around or not fact is sometimes i think she's better pleased when i'm gone but you're right i'll see polycarp and have him come over once in a while sure glad you spoke of it you always had a great head for thinking about other people kent you ought to get married no thanks kent scowled i haven't got any grudge against women the world's full of men ready and willing to give him a taste of pure unadulterated hell manly stared at him stupidly and then laughed doubtfully as if he felt certain of having by his dullness missed the point of a very good joke after that the time was filled with the preparations for manley's absence kent did what he could to help and val went calmly about the house packing the few necessary personal belongings which might be stuffed into a war-bag and used during round-up beyond an occasional glance of friendly understanding she seemed to have forgotten the compact she had made with kent but when they were ready to ride away kent purposely left his gloves lying upon the couch and remembered them only after manning was in the saddle. So he went back, and Val followed him into the room. He wanted to say something. He did not quite know what, something that would bring them a little closer together and keep them

so, something that would make her think of him often and kindly. He picked up his gloves and held out his hand to her, and then a diffident seized his tongue. There was nothing he dared say. All the eloquence, all the tenderness, was in his eyes. Well, good-bye, pal. Be good to yourself, he said simply. Val smiled up at him tremulously. Goodbye, my one friend. Don't, don't get hurt.

Their class tightened. Their hands dropped apart rather limply. Kent went out and got upon his horse and rode away, beside manly, and talked of the range, and of the round-up, and of cattle, and a dozen other things which interest men. But all the while, one exultant thought kept reiterating itself in his mind. She never said that much to him.

She never said that much to him. End of Chapter 15. Chapter 16 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. B. M. This Liber Vox recording is in the P. public domain chapter sixteen manly's new tactics to the east to the south to the north went the riders of the wishbone gathering the cattle which the fires had driven afar no rivers stopped them nor mountains nor the deep-scarred coolies nor the plains it was manley's first experience in real round-up work for his own little herd he had managed to keep close at home home, and what few strayed afar were turned back, when opportunity afforded, by his neighbors, who wished him well. Now he tasted the pride of ownership to the full, when a VP cow and her

calf mingled with the milling wishbones and double diamonds. He was proud of his brand, and proud of the sentiment which had made him choose Val's initials. More than once he explained to was fellows that VP meant Val Payson and that he had got it recorded just after he and Val were engaged. He was not sentimental about her now, but he liked to dwell upon the fact that he had been. It showed that he was capable of fine feeling. More dominant, however, as the weeks passed and the branding went on, became the desire to accumulate property, cattle. The Wishbone brand went scorching through the hair of hundreds of calves,

while the VP scared tens. It was not right. He felt somehow cheated by fate. He mentally figured the increase of his herd, and it seemed to him that it took a long while, much longer than it should, to gain a respectable number in that manner. He cast about in his mind for some rich acquaintance

in the east who might be prevailed upon, to lend him capital enough to buy, say, 500 cows. He began to talk about it occasionally when the boys lay around in the evenings. You want a ride with a long rope, suggested Bob Royden, grinning openly at the others. That's the way to work up in the cow business. Capital nothing.

You don't get enough excitement, buying cattle. You want to steal them. That's what I'd do if I had a brand of my... own and all your ambition to get rich and get sent up manly rounded out the situation no thanks he laughed it's a better way to get to the pen than it is to get rich from all accounts sandy moran remembered a fellow who worked a brand and kept it up for seven or eight years before they caught him and he recounted the tale between puffs at a cigarette only they didn't catch him he finished a puncher put him wise to what was in the wind and he sold out cheap to a tenderfoot and pulled his freight they never did locate him then with a pointed rock which he picked up beside him he drew a rude diagram or two in the dirt that's how he'd done it he explained pretty smooth too so the talk went on as such things will idly without purpose save to pass the time shop talk of the range it was

tales of stealing of working brands and of branding unmarked yearlings at weaning time of this big cattleman and that who practically stole whole herds and thereby took long strides toward wealth range scandals grown old range gossip all of it of it of men who had changed a brand or made one, using a cinch ring at a tiny fire in a secluded hollow, or a spur, or a jackknife, who were caught in the act after the act, or merely suspected of the crime, of sweat brands, blotched brands, brands added to and altered, of trials, of shootings, of hangings even, and getaways, spectacular and humorous and pathetic. manly being in a measure of pilgrim and having no experience to draw upon and not much imagination took no part in the talk except that he listened and was intensely interested two months of mingling with men who talk little else had its influence that fall when manley had his hay up and his cattle once more ranging close toward the river and in the broken country bounded upon the west by the the fenced-in railroad, three calves bore the VP brand, three husky heifers that never had

suckled a VP mother. So had the range gossip, sewn by chance in the soil of his greed of gain and his weakening moral fiber, borne fruit. The deed scared him sober for a month. For a month his color changed, and his blood quickened whenever a horseman showed upon the rim of cold spring coolly? For a month he never left the ranch, unless business compelled him to do so, and his return was speedy, his eyes anxious until he knew that all was well. After that his confidence returned. He grew more secretive, more self-assured, more at ease with his guilt. He looked the wishbone men squarely in the eye, and it seldom occurred to him that he was a thief, or if it did, the word was but a synonym for luck, with shrewdness behind.

Sometimes he regretted his timidity. Why three calves only? In a deep little coolly next the river, a coolly which the round-up had missed, had been more than three. He might have doubled the number and risked no more than for the three. The longer he dwelt upon that, the more inclined. he was to feel that he had cheated himself. That fall there were no fires.

It would be long before men grew careless when the grass was ripened and the winds blew hot and dry from out the west. The big prairie which lay high between the river and hope was dotted with feeding cattle, wishbones and double diamonds mostly, with here and there astray. Manly grew wily and began to do that,

to plan far in advance. He rode here and there, quietly keeping his own cattle well down toward the river. There was shelter there and feed, and the idea was a good one. Just before the river broke up, he saw to it that a few of his own cattle, and with them some wishbone cows and a steer or two, were ranging in a deep bushy coolly, isolated and easily passed by. he had driven them there and he left them there that spring he worked again with the wishbone when the round-up swept the home range gathering and branding it chanced that his part of the circle took him and sandy moran down that way it was hot and they had thirty or forty head of cattle before them when they neared that particular place no need going down into the brakes here he told sandy easily i've been hazing out everything i came across lately they were mostly my own anyway i believe i've got it pretty well cleaned up along here sandy was not the man to hunt hard riding he went to the rim of the coolly and looked down for a minute he saw nothing moving and took manley's word for it with no stirring of his easy-going conscience he said all right and rode on

end of chapter sixteen chapter seventeen of lonesome land by b m b m bower this libervox recording is in the public domain chapter seventeen val becomes an author quite as marked had been the change in val that year every time kent saw her he recognized the fact that she was a little different a little less superior in her attitude a little more independent in her views of life her standard seemed slowly changing and her way of thinking he did not see her often but when he did the mockery of their friendship struck him more keenly his inward rebellion against circumstances grew more bitter. He wondered how she could be so blind as to think they were just pals and no more. She did think so. All the little confidences, all the glances, all the smiles she gave and received frankly in the name of friendship. You know, Kent, this is my ideal of how people should be, she told him once, with a perfectly honest enthusiasm.

i've always dreamed of such a friendship and i've always believed that some day the right man would come along and make it possible not one in a thousand could understand and meet one half-way they'd be liable to go farther kent assented dryly yes that's just the trouble they'd spoil an ideal friendship by falling in love darn chumps kent clasped them sweeping love exactly pal your vocabulary excites my envy it's so forcible sometimes kent grimmed reminiscently it sure is old girl oh i don't mean necessarily profane i wonder what your vocabulary will do to the secret i'm going to tell you the sweet peas had reached the desired height and profusion of blossoms thanks to the pails and pails of water val had carried and lavished upon them and she was gathering a handful of the prettiest blooms for him her cheeks turned a bit pinker as she spoke and her hesitation raised a wild hope briefly in kent's heart what is it he had to force the words out i-i hate to tell but i want you to-to help me well to kent at that moment she was not manly's wife she was not any man's wife she was the girl he loved loved with a primitive absorbing passion of the man who lives naturally and does not borrow his morals from his next-door neighbor his code of ethics was his own thought out by himself val hated her husband and her husband did not seem to care much for her they were tied together legally and a mere legality could not hold back the emotions and the desires of kent bernett

with him it was not a question of morals it was a question of val's feeling in the matter val looked up at him found something strange in his eyes and immediately looked away again your eyes are always saying things i can't hear she observed irrelevantly are they do you want me to act as an interpreter no i just want you to listen have you noticed anything different about me lately kent she tilted her head while she passed judgment upon a cluster of speckled blossoms odd but not particularly pretty what do you mean anyway i'm liable to get off wrong if I tell you. Oh, you're so horribly cautious. Have I seemed any more content, any happier lately? Kent picked a spray of flowers and pulled them ruthlessly to pieces. Maybe I've kind of hoped so, he said, almost in a whisper.

Well, I've a new interest in life. I just discovered it by accident, almost. Kent lifted his head. head and looked keenly at her, and his face was a lighter shade of brown than it had been. It seems to change everything. Pal, I—I've been writing things. Kent discovered he had been holding his breath and let it go in a long sigh. Oh, after a minute he smiled philosophically.

What kind of things, he drawled. Well, verses—but most of the same. mostly stories. You see, she explained impulsively, I want to earn some money of my own. I haven't said much, because I hate whining. But really, things are growing pretty bad between Manly and me. I hope it isn't my fault. I have tried every way I know to keep my faith in him, and to—to help him. But he's not the same as he was. You know that? And I have a good deal of pride. I can't—oh, it's intolerable, having to ask a man for money, especially when he doesn't want to give you any,' she added naively.

At first it wasn't necessary. I had a little of my own, and all my things were new, but one must eventually buy things, for the house, you know, and for one's personal needs, and he seems to resent it dreadfully. I never would have believed that manly could be stingy, actually stingy, but he is, unfortunately. I hate to speak of his faults, even to you. But I've got to be honest with you. It isn't nice to say that I'm writing, not for any particularly burning desire to express my thoughts, not for the sentiment of it, but to earn money. It's terribly sordid, isn't it? She smiled wistfully up at him. but there seems to be money in it for those who succeed and it's a work that i can do here i have oceans of time and i'm not disturbed her lips curved into bitter lines

i do so much thinking i might as well put my brain to some muse with one of her sudden changes of mood she turned to kent and clasped both hands upon his arm now you see pal how much our friendship means to me she said softly i couldn't have told this to another living soul it seems awfully treacherous saying it even to you i mean about him but you're so good you always understand don't you pal i guess so kent forced the words out naturally and kept his breath even and his arms from clasping her He considered that he performed quite a feat of endurance. "'You're modest,' she gave his arm a little shake. "'Of course you do. You know I'm not treacherous, really. You know I'd do anything I could for him. But this is something that doesn't concern him at all.

He doesn't know it, but that is because he would only sneer. When I have really sold something and received the money for it, then it won't matter to me who knows? nose. But now it's a solemn secret, just between me and my pal." Her yellow-brown eyes dwelt upon his face. Kent, stealing a glance at her from under his drooped lids, wondered if she had ever given any time to analyzing herself. He would have given much to know if, down deep in her heart, she really believed in this pal business, if she was really a friend and no more. She puzzled him a good deal sometimes. Well, if anybody can make good at that business, you sure ought to.

You've got brains enough to write a dictionary. He permitted himself the indulgence of saying that much, and he was perfectly sincere. He honestly considered Val the cleverest woman in the world. She laughed with gratification. Your sublime confidence, while it is undoubt, mistaken, is nevertheless appreciated, she told him primly, moving away with her hands full of flowers. If you've got the nerve, come inside and read some of my stuff. I want to know if it's any good at all.

Presently he was seated upon the couch in the little, pathetically bright front room, and he was knitting his eyebrows over Val's beautifully regular handwriting, pages and pages of it, so that there seemed to be no end to the task, and was trying to give his mind to what he was reading instead of to the author, sitting near him with her hands folded demurely on her lap, and her eyes fixed expectantly upon his face, trying to read his decision, even as it was forming. Some verses she had tried on him first. Kent, by using all his determination of character, read them all. every word of them. That's sure all right, he said, though, beyond a telling phrase or two. One line in particular which would stick in his memory, Men live and love and die in that lonely land. He had no very clear idea of what it was all about.

Certain lines seemed to go bumping along, and then one had to mispronounce some of the final words to make them rhyme with the others gone before. but it was all right Val wrote it. I think I do better at stories, she ventured modestly. I wrote one, a little story about university life, and sent it to a magazine. They wrote a lovely letter about it, but it seems that field is overdone or something. The editor asked me why, living out here in the very heart of the West,

I don't try Western stories. I think I shall, and that's why I said I should need your help. I thought we might work together, you know. You've lived here so long, and ought to have some splendid ideas. Things that have happened or that you've heard, and you could tell me, and I'd write them up. Wouldn't you like to collaborate, go in cahoots on it? Sure.

"'Kent regarded her thoughtfully. "'She really was looking brighter and happier, "'and her enthusiasm was not to be mistaken. "'Her world had changed. "'Anything I can do to help, you know. "'Of course, I know. "'I think it's perfectly splendid, don't you? "'We'll divide the money, when there is any,

"'and—' "'Will we?' "'His tone was non-committal in the extreme. Of course. Now don't let's quarrel about that till we come to it. I have a good idea of my own, I think, for the first story. A man comes out here and disappears, you know, and after a while his sister comes to find him. She gets into all kinds of trouble, is kidnapped by a gang of robbers, and kept in a cave. When the leader of the gang comes back, he has been away on some deprecrow. You see, I have only the bare outline of the story yet, and, well, it's her brother.

He kills the one who kidnapped her, and she reforms him. Of course, there ought to be some love interest. I think perhaps one member of the gang ought to fall in love with her, don't you know? And after a while he wins her. She'll reform him, too, I reckon. Oh, yes. She couldn't love a man she couldn't respect. No woman could. Oh! Kent took a minute to apply that personally. It was of value to him because it was an indication of Val's own code. Maybe, he suggested tentatively, she'd get busy and reform the whole bunch.

Oh, say, that would be great. She's an awfully sweet little thing. Perfectly lovely, you know. And they'd all be in love with her, so it wouldn't be improbable. Don't you remember, Kent, you told me once that a man would do anything for a woman if he cared enough for her? Sure, he would, too. Kent fought back a momentary temptation to prove the truth of it

by his own acquiescence in this pal business. He was saved from disaster, by a suspicion that Val would not be able to see it from his point of view, and by the fact that he would much rather be pals than nothing. She would have gone on, talking and planning and discussing, indefinitely. But the sun slid lower and lower, and Kent was not his own master. The time came when he had to go, regardless of his own wishes, or hers. When he came again, the story was finished.

and Val was waiting with extreme impatience to read it to him and hear his opinion before she sent it away. Kent was not so impatient to hear it, but he did not tell her so. He had not seen her for a month, and he wanted to talk, not about anything in particular, just talk about little things, and see her eyes light up once in a while, and her lips purse primly when he said something daring, and maybe have her play something on the violin, while he smoked and watched her slim wrist, bend and rise and fall with the movement of the bow.

He could imagine no single thing more fascinating than that, that and the way she cuddled the violin under her chin in the hollow of her neck. But Val would not play. She had been too busy to practice, all spring and summer. She scarcely ever touched the violin, she said. and she did not want to talk or if she did it was plain that she had only one theme so kent perforce listened to the story afterward he assured her that it was out of sight as a matter of fact half the time he had not heard a word of what she was reading he had been too busy just looking at her and being glad he was there

he had however a dim impression that it was a story with people in it whom one does not try to imagine as ever being alive and with a west which beyond its evident scarcity of inhabitants was not the west he knew anything about one paragraph of description had caught his attention because it seemed a fairly accurate picture of the bench land which surrounded cold spring coolly but it had not seemed to have anything to do with the story itself of course it must be good val wrote it he began to admire her intensity quite apart from his own personal subjugation val was pleased with his praise for two solid hour she talked of nothing but that story and she gave him some fresh chocolate cake and a pitcher of lemonade and urged him to come again in about three weeks when she expected to hear from the magazine she thought would be glad to take the story the one whose editor had suggested that she read of the west in the fall and in the winter their discussions were frequently hampered by manley's presence but val's enthusiasm though nipped here and there by unappreciative editors managed somehow to live or perhaps it had developed into a dogged determination to succeed in spite of everything she still wrote things and she still read them to kent when there was time and opportunity sometimes he was bold enough to criticize the worst places and to tell her how she might in his opinion remedy them occasionally val would take his advice so the months passed the winds blew and brought storm and heat and sunshine and cloud

nothing in that big land appreciably changed except the people and they so imperceptibly that they fail to realize it until afterward end of chapter seventeen chapter eighteen of lonesome land by b m b bower this libervox recording is in the public domain chapter eighteen val's discovery with a blood-red sun at his back and a rosy tinge upon all the hills before him manly rode slowly down the western rim of cold spring coolly driving five rebellious calves that had escaped the branding iron in the spring though they were not easily driven in any given direction he was singularly patient with them and refrained from bellowing epithets and admonitions as might have been expected when he was almost down the hill he saw a val standing in the kitchen door shading her eyes with her hands that she might watch his approach open the corral gate he shouted to her in the tone of command and stand back where ye can head em off if they start up the coolly val replied by doing as she was told she was not in the habit of wasting words upon manly they seemed always to precipitate an unpleasant discussion of some sort as if he took it for granted she disapproved of all he did or said and was always upon the defensive the calves came on lumbering awkwardly in a half-hearted gallop as if they had very little energy left their tongues protruded their mouths dribbled a lathery foam and their rough sweaty hides told val of the long chase

for she was wiser in the ways of the range land than she had been she stood back gently waving her ruffled white apron at them and when they dodged into the corral rolling eyes at her she ran up and slammed the gate shut upon them looped the chain around the post and dropped the iron hook into a link to fasten it manly galloped up threw himself off his parting horse and began to unsaddle get some wood and start a fire and put the iron in val he told her brusquely val looked at him quickly now supper's already manly there's no hurry about branding them is there and she added dear me the roundup must have just skimmed the top off this range last spring you've had to brand a lot of calves that were missed what the devil is it to you he demanded roughly i want that fire madam and i want it now i rather think i knew when i want a brand without asking your advice val curved her lips scornfully shrugged and obeyed she was used to that sort of thing and she did not mind very much he had brutalized by degrees and by degrees she had hardened he could rouse no feeling now but contempt if you'll kindly wait until i put back the supper she said coldly i suppose in your zeal one need not sacrifice your food you're still rather particular about that i observe manly was leading his horse to the stable and though he answered something the words were no more than a surly mumble he's been drinking again

val decided dispassionately on the way to the house i suppose he carried a bottle in his pocket and emptied it she was not long there was a penalty of profane reproach attached to delay however slight when manly was in that mood she had the fire going and the v p iron heating by the time he had stabled and fed his horse and had driven the calves into the smaller pen he drove a big line-backed heifer into a corner roped and tied her down with surprising dexterity and turned impatiently come isn't that iron ready yet val on the other side of the fence drew it out and inspected it indifferently it is not mr fleetwood if you are in a very great hurry why not apply your temper to it and a few choice remarks oh don't try to be sarcastic it's too pathetic kick a little life into that fire yes sir thank you sir val could be rather exasperating when she chose she always could be sure of making manly silently furious when she adopted that tone of respectful servility as employed by butlers and footmen upon the stage her mimicry be it said was very good here it is sir thank you sir ope i haven't kept you waiting sir she announced after he had fumed for two minutes inside the corral and she had cynically hummed her way quite through the hymn which begins blessed be the tie that binds she passed the white-hot iron deftly threw the rails to him and fixed the fire for another heating really she was not thinking of manly at all nor of his mood nor of his brutal coarseness she was thinking of the rebuilt typewriter advertised as being exactly as good as a new one and scandalously cheap

for which she had sold her watch to arline holly to get money to buy she was counting mentally the days since she had sent the money order and was thinking it should come that week surely she was also planning to seize upon the opportunity afforded by manley's next absence for a day from the ranch and drive to hope on the chance of getting the machine only she wished she could be sure whether kent would be coming soon she did not want to miss seeing him she'd decided to sound polycarp jenks the next time he came polycarp would know of course whether the wishbone outfit was in from roundup polycarp always knew everything that had been done or was intended among the neighbors manly passed the ill-smelling iron back to her and she put it in the fire quite mechanically it was not the first time nor the second that she had been called upon to help brand she could heat an iron as quickly and evenly as most men though manley had never troubled to tell her so five times she heated the iron and heard with an inward quiver of pity and disgust the spasmodic blad of the calf in the pen when the v p went searing into the hide on its ribs she did not see why they must be branded that evening in particular but it was as well to have it done with also if manly meant to wean them she would have to see that they were fed and watered she supposed that would make her trip to town a hurried one if she went at all she would have to go and come the same day and arline holly would scold and beg her to stay and call her a fool

now how about that supper asked manly when they were through and the air was clearing a little from the smoke and the smell of burnt hair i really don't know i smelled the potatoes burning some time ago i'm I'll see, however." She brushed her hands with her handkerchief, pushed back the lock of hair that was always falling across her temple, and because she was really offended by Manley's attitude and tone, she sang softly all the way to the house, merely to conceal from him the fact that he could move her even to irritation. Her best weapon she had discovered long ago was absolute indifference, the indifference which overlooked his own presence and was deaf to his recriminations. She completed her preparations for his supper, made sure that nothing was lacking, and that the tea was just right, placed his chair in position, filled the water glass beside his plate, set the teapot where he could reach it handily, and went into the living room and closed the door between. In the past year,

filled as it had been with her literary ambitions and endeavors, she had neglected her music. But she took her violin from the box, hunted the cake of resin, tuned the strings, and when she heard him come into the kitchen and sit down at the table, seated herself upon the front doorstep and began to play. There was one bit of music which Manly thoroughly detested. That was the Tromirai. therefore she played the tromerey slowly as it should of course be played with full value given to all the pensive long-drawn notes and with a finale positively creepy in its dreamy wistfulness val as has been stated could be very exasperating when she chose in the kitchen there was the subdued rattle of dishes unbroken and unhurried val went on playing but she was she was the subdued rattle of dishes unbroken and unhurried val went on playing but she

forgot that she had begun in a half-conscious desire to annoy her husband. She stared dreamily at the hill which shut out the world to the east, and yielded to a mood of loneliness, of longing in the abstract, for all the pleasant things she was missing in this life which she had chosen in her ignorance. When Manly flung open the inner door, she gave a stifled exclamation. She had forgotten all about Manley. By all the big and little gods of Greece, he swore angrily, calves bawling their heads off in the corral,

and you squalling that whiny stuff you call music in the house. Home's sure a hell of a happy place. I'm going to town. You don't want to leave the place till I come back. I want those calves looked after. He seemed to consider something mentally, and then added, If I'm not back before they quit bawling, you can turn them down in the riverfield with the rest. You know when they're weaned and ready to settle down.

Don't feed them too much hay, like you did that other bunch. Just give them what they need. You don't have to pile the corral full. And don't keep them shut up an hour longer than necessary. Val nodded her head to show that she heard and went on playing. there was seldom any pretense of good feeling between them now she tuned the violin into minor and poised the bow over the strings in some doubt as to her memory of a serenade she wanted to try next shall i have polycarp take the team and haul up some wood from the river she asked carelessly we're nearly out again oh i don't care if he happens along he turned and went out his mind turning eagerly to the town and what it could give him in the way of pleasure val still sitting in the doorway saw him right away up the grade and disappear over the brow of the hill

the dusk was settling softly upon the land so that his figure was but a vague shape she was alone again she rather liked being alone now that she had no longer a blind unreasoning terror of the empty land. She had her thoughts and her work. The presence of Manly was merely an unpleasant interruption to both. Sometime in the night, she heard the lowing of a cow somewhere near. She wondered dreamily what it could be doing in the coolly and went to sleep again. The five calves were all bawling in a chorus of complaint against their forced separation from their mothers, and the deeper throaty tones of the cow mingled not inharmoniously with the sound. Range cattle were not permitted in the coolly, and when by chance they found a broken panel in the fence and strayed down there, Val drove them out, a foot usually, with shouts and badly aimed

stones to accelerate their lumbering pace. After she had eaten her breakfast in the morning, she went out to investigate. Beyond the corral, her nose thrust close against the rails, a cow was bawling dismally. Inside, in much the same position, its tail waving a violent signal of its owner's distress, a calf was clamoring hysterically for its mother and its mother's milk. Val sympathized with them both, but the cow did not belong in the coolly, and she gathered two or three small stones and went around where she could frighten her away from the fence without, however, exposing herself too recklessly to her uncertain temper. Cows at weaning time did sometimes object to being driven from their calves.

"'Shoe, go on away from there!' Val raised a stone and poised it threateningly. The cow turned and regarded her. wild-eyed. It backed a step or two, evidently uncertain of its next move. Go on away! Val was just on the point of throwing the rock when she dropped it unheeded to the ground and stared. Why, you, you, why, the idea! She turned slowly white. Certain things must filter to the understanding through amazement and disbelief. it took val a minute or two to grasp the significance of what she saw by the time she did grasp it her knees were bending weakly beneath the weight of her body she put out a groping hand and caught the corner of the corral to keep herself from falling and she stared and stared it's oh surely not she whispered protesting against her understanding

she gave a little sob that had no immediate relation to tears surely surely not it was of no use understanding came and came clearly pitilessly many things trifles all of them to which she had given no thought at the time or which she had forgotten immediately came back to her of their own accord things she tried not to remember the cow stared at her for a minute and when she made no hostile move turned its attention back to its bereavement once again it thrust its moist muzzle between two rails gave a preliminary vibrant m m m and then with a spasmodic heaving of ribs and of flank burst into a long drawn ah ah which rose rapidly in a tremulous crescendo and died to a throaty rumbling val started nervously though her eyes were fixed upon the cow and she knew the sound was coming it served however to release her from the spell of horse which had gripped her. She was still white, and when she moved, she felt intolerably heavy, so that her feet dragged, but she was no longer dazed. She went slowly around to the gate, reached up wearily and undid the chain-fastening, opened the gate slightly, and went in.

Four of the calves were huddled together for mutual comfort in a corner. They were bladding indefatigably. Val went over to where the fifth one still stood beside the fence, as near the cow as it could get, and threw a small stone that bounced off the calf's rump. The calf jumped and ran aimlessly before her until it reached the half-open gate, when it dodged out, as if it could scarcely believe its own good fortune. Before Val could follow it outside, it was nuzzling rapture. its mother, and the cow was comforting her body so that she could caress her offspring with her tongue while she rumbled her satisfaction. Val closed and fastened the gate carefully and went back to where the cow still lingered.

With her lips drawn to a thin, colorless line, she drove her across the coolly and up the hill, the calf gambling close alongside. When they had gone out of sight, up on the level, Val turned back and went slowly to the house. She stood for a minute, staring stupidly at it, and at the coolly, went in and gazed around her, with that blankness which follows a great mental shock. After a minute she shivered, threw up her hands before her face, and dropped, A pitiful, sorrowing heap of quivering rebellion upon the couch. End of Chapter 18. Chapter 19 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. B. B. B. B. Bower. This Liber Vox recording is in the public domain.

Chapter 19. Kent's Confession Polycarp Jenks came ambling into the coolly, wrapped perfunctorily upon the door casing, and entered the kitchen as one who feels perfectly at home, and sure of his welcome, as was not unfitting, considering the fact that he had chored around for Val during the last year and longer. "'Anybody to home?' he called, seeing the front door shut tight. There was a stir within, and Val, still pale, and with an almost furtive expression in her eyes, opened the door and looked out. "'Oh, it's you, Pollycarp,' she said lifelessly. is there anything what's the matter sick you look kind of peaked and frazzled out i met man last night and he told me you needed wood i thought i'd ride over and see by granny you do look bad

just a headache valivated shrinking back guiltily just do whatever there is to do polycarp i think-i don't believe that chickens have had anything to eat today them headaches are sure of fright they're might nigh as bad as rheumatism when they hit you hard you just go back and lay down and i'll look around and see what they is to do any idea when man's comin back no val brought the word out with an involuntary sharpness no i reckon not i hear him and fred de garmo come might near having a fight last night Blumenthal was telling me this morning. Fred's quit the double diamond, I hear. He's got himself appointed deputy stock inspector, and how he managed to get the job is more than I can figure out. They say he's all swelled up over it,

got his headquarters in town, you know, and seems he got to lording it over a man last night, and I guess if somebody hadn't stopped him, there'd have been a mix-up, all right. man wasn't in no shape to fight he'd been drinking pretty yes well just do whatever there is to do polycarp the horses are in the upper pasture i think if you want a haul wood she closed the door gently but with exceeding firmness and polycarp took the hint women is queer he muttered as he left the house now she knows man drinks like a fish and she knows everybody else knows it but if you so much has mentioned such a thing why he waggled his head disapprovingly and proceeded in his habitually laborious manner to take a chew of tobacco no matter how much they may know a thing is so if it don't suit em you can't never get em to stand right up and face it out seems like by granny it comes natural to him to make believe things is

different now she knows might well she can't fool me i've heard man swear at her like he reached the corral and his insatiable curiosity turned his thoughts into a different channel he inspected the four calves gravely wondered audibly where man had found them and how the round-up came to miss them and criticized his application of the brand in the opinion of polycarp manly either burned too deep or not deep enough. Time that line-backed heifer scabs off. You can't tell what's on her, he asserted, expectorating solemnly before he turned away to his work. From a window, Val watched him with cold terror. Would he suspect?

Or was there anything to suspect? It's silly, it's perfectly idiotic, she told herself impatiently. But if he hangs around that, That corral another minute, I shall scream. She watched until she saw him mount his horse and ride off toward the upper pasture. Then she went out and began apathetically picking seed pods off her sweet peas, which the early frosts had spared. Head better, called Polycarp half an hour later,

when he went rattling past the house with a wagon bound for the river bottom, where they got their supply of wood. A little, Val answered inattentively, without looking at him. It was while Polycarp was after the wood, and while she was sitting upon the edge of the porch, listlessly arranging and rearranging a handful of long-stemmed blossoms, that Kent galloped down the hill and up to the gate. She saw him coming and set her teeth hard together.

She did not want to see Kent just then. she did not want to see anybody kent however wanted to see her it seemed to him at least a month since he had had a glimpse of her though it was no more than half that time he watched her covertly while he came up the path his mind all the way over from the wishbone had been very clear and very decided he had a certain thing to tell her and a certain thing to do he had thought it all out during the nights when he could not sleep and the days when men called him surrely and there was no going back no reconsideration of the matter he had been telling himself that over and over ever since the house came into view and he saw her sitting there on the porch she would probably want to argue and perhaps she would try to persuade him but it would be absolutely useless absolutely Well, hello, he cried, with more than his usual buoyancy of manner, because he knew he must hurt her later on. Hello, Madam Authores!

Why this haughty air, this stuck up in this? Shall I get a ladder and climb up where you can hear me say howdy? He took off his hat and slapped her gently upon the top of her head with it. Come out of the fog! Oh, I wish you wouldn't. She glanced up at him so briefly that he caught only a flicker of her yellow-brown eyes and went on fumbling her flowers. Kent stood and looked down at her for a moment. Mad? he inquired cheerfully.

Say, you look awfully savage. On the dead you do? What do you care if they sent it back? You had all the fun of writing it, and you know it's a dandy. Please smile, pretty pretty pretty. please, he wheedled. It was not the first time he had discovered her in a despondent mood, nor the first time he had bantered and badgered her out of her gloom. Presently it dawned upon him that this was more serious. He had never seen her quite so

colorless or so completely without spirit. Sick, pal? he asked gently, sitting down beside her. No, I suppose not. val bit her lips as soon as she had spoken to check their quivering well what is it i wish you'd tell me i came over here full of something i had to tell you but i can't now not while you're like this he watched her yearningly oh i can't tell you it's nothing val jerked a sweet pea viciously from its stem pressed her hand against her mouth and turned reluctantly toward him what was it you came to tell me he watched her narrowly i'll gamble you're down in the mouth about something hubby has said or done you needn't tell me but i'd just want to ask you if you'd think it's worth while you needn't tell me that either you know blamed well it ain't he can't deal you any more misery than you let him hand out you want to keep that in mind another blossom was demolished what was it you came to tell me she repeated steadily though she did not look at him oh nothing much i'm going to leave the country as all

"'Kent!' "'After a minute she forced another word out. "'Why?' Kent regarded her somberly. "'You better think twice before you ask me that,' he warned, "'because I ain't much good at beating all around the bush. "'If you ask me again, I'll tell you, "'and I'm liable to tell you without any frills.'

"'He drew a hard breath. "'So I'd advise you not to ask,' he finished half. challengingly. Val placed a pale lavender blossom against a creamy white one and held the two up for inspection. When are you going? she asked evenly. I don't know exactly, in a day or so, Saturday maybe. She hesitated over the flowers in her lap and selected a pink one, which she tried with the white and the lavender. And why are you going? She asked. him deliberately. Kent stared at her fixedly. A faint pink flush was creeping into her cheeks. He watched it deepen and knew that his silence was filling her with uneasiness. He wondered how much

she guessed of what he was going to say, and how much it would mean to her. All right, I'll tell you why, fast enough. His tone was grim. I'm going to leave the country because I can't stay any longer, not while you're in it. Why can't? She seemed inexpressibly shocked. I don't know, he went on relentlessly, what you think a man's made of, anyhow, and I don't know what you think of this pal business.

I know what I think. It's a mighty good way to drive a man crazy. I've had about all of it I can stand, if you want to know. i'm sorry if you don't if you can't be friends any longer she said and he wince to see how her eyes filled with tears but of course if you can't if it bores you kent seized her arm a bit roughly have i got to come right out and tell you in plain english that i-that it's because i'm so deep in love with you i can't if you only knew what it's cost me this last year to play the game and not play it too hard? What do you think a man's made of? Do you think a man can care for a woman like I care for you?

And do you think he wants to be just pals? And stand back and watch some drunken brute abuse her and never hear? His voice grew testier. Don't do that. Don't. I didn't want to hurt you. God knows I didn't want to hurt you. he threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward him don't pal i'm a brute i guess like all the rest of the male humans i don't mean to be it's the way i'm made

when a woman means so much to me that i can't think of anything else day or night and get to counting days and scheming to see her why being friends like we've been is like giving a man a teaspoon of milk and water when he's starving to death and thinking that ought to do. But I shouldn't have let it hurt you. I tried to stand for it, little woman. There were times when I just had to fight myself not to take you up in my arms and carry you off and keep you. You must admit, he argued, smiling rather wanly,

that, considering how I felt about it, I've done pretty tolerable well up till now. You don't. You never will know how much it's cost. Why, my nerves are getting so raw, I can't stand anything anymore. That's why I'm going. I don't want to hang around till I do something foolish. He took his arm away from her shoulders and moved farther off. He was not sure how far he might trust himself. If I thought you cared, or if there was anything I could do for you, he ventured after a moment.

he ventured after a moment, why it would be different, but... Val lifted her head and turned to him. There is something, or there was, or, oh, I can't think anymore. I suppose, doubtfully, if you feel as if you say you do, why, it would be wicked to stay. But you don't, you must just imagine it. Oh, all right, Kent interpile. I was, ironically. But if you go away...

She got up and stood before him, breathing unevenly, in little gasps. Oh, you mustn't go away. Please don't go. There's something terrible happened. Oh, Kent, I need you. I can't tell you what it is. It's the most horrible thing I ever heard of. You can't imagine anything more horrible, Kent. She twisted her fingers together.

nervously, and the blossoms dropped one by one on the ground. "'If you go,' she pleaded, "'I won't have a friend in the country, not a real friend. "'And—and I never needed a friend as much as I do now. "'And you mustn't go. I—I can't let you go.' It was like her hysterical fear of being left alone after the fire. Kent eyed her keenly. he knew there must have been something to put her into this state something more than his own rebellion he felt suddenly ashamed of his weakness in giving way in telling her how it was with him

the faint far-off chuckle of a wagon came to his ears he turned impatiently toward the sound polycarp was driving up the coolly with a load of wood already he was nearing the gate which opened into the lower field Kent stood up, reached out, and caught Val by the hand. Come on into the house, he said peremptorily. Polly's coming, and you don't want him goggling and listening. And I want you, he added when he had led her inside and closed the door, to tell me what all this is about. There's something, and I want to know what. If it concerns you, then it concerns me a whole lot, too.

and what concerns me I'm going to find out about. What is it? Val sat down, got up immediately, and crossed the room aimlessly to sit in another chair. She pressed her palms tightly against both cheeks, drew in her breath as if she were going to speak, and, after all, said nothing. She looked out of the window, pushing back the errant strand of hair.

I can't. I don't know. how to tell you, she began desperately. It's too horrible. Maybe it is. I don't know what you'd call too horrible. I kind of think it wouldn't be what I'd tack those words to. Anyway, what is it? He went close, and he spoke consistently. She took a long breath. Manly's a thief. She jerked the words out like an automaton. They were not evidential. the word she had meant to speak, for she seemed frightened afterward. Oh, that's it! Kent made a sound which was not far from a snort.

Well, what about it? What's he done? How did you find it out? Val straightened in the chair and gazed up at him. Once more her tawny eyes gave him a certain shock, as if he had never before noticed them. After all our neighbors have done for him, she cried bitterly, after giving him hay when his was burned and he couldn't buy any, after building stables and corral and everything they did, the kindest best neighbors a man ever had. Oh, it's too shameful for utterance.

I might forgive it, I might only for that. The ingratitude. It's too disdemeful. "'I suspectable. Too—' "'Kent laid a steadying hand upon her arm. "'Yes, but what is it?' he interrupted. "'Val shook off his hand unconsciously, impatient of any touch. "'Oh, the bare deed itself!

"'Well, it's rather petty, too, and cheap.' "'Her voice became full of contempt. "'It was the calves. "'He brought home five last night, five that hadn't been branded last spring. Where he find them, I don't know. I didn't care enough about her to ask. He had been drinking, I think.

I can usually tell, and he often carries a bottle in his pocket, as I happen to know. Well, he had made a fire and heat the iron for him, and he branded them, last night. He was very touchy about it when I asked him what was his hurry. i think now it was a stupid thing for him to do and-well in the night some time i heard a cow bawling around close and this morning i went out to drive her away the fence is always down somewhere i suppose she found a place to get through so i went out to drive her away her eyes dropped as if she were making a confession of her own misdeed she clenched her

she clenched her hands tightly in her lap well it was a wishbone cow after all she said it very quietly the devil it was kent had been prepared for something of the sort but nevertheless he started when he heard his own outfit mentioned yes it was a wishbone cow her voice was flat and monotonous he had stolen her calf he had it in the corral and he had branded it with his own brand with a v p with my initials she wailed suddenly as if the thought had just struck her and was intolerably bitter she had followed had been hunting her calf it was rather a little calf smaller than the others and it was crowded up against the fence trying to get to her there was no mistaking their relationship i tried to think he had made a mistake but it's of no use i know he didn't i know he stole that calf and for all i know the others too oh it's perfectly horrible to think of kent could easily guess her a horror of it and he was sorry for her but his mind turned instantly to the practical side of it well maybe it can be fixed up if you feel so bad about it does polycarp did he see the cow hanging around val shook her head apathetically no he didn't come till just a little while ago that was this morning and i drove her out of the coolly her and her calf they went up over the hill kent stood looking down at her rather stupidly

you what what was it you did it seemed to him that something some vital point of the story had eluded him i drove them away i didn't think they ought to be permitted to hang around here her lips quivered again i-i didn't want to see him get into any trouble you drove them away both of them kent was frowning at her now. Val sprang up and faced him, all a tremble with indignation. Certainly, both. I'm not a thief, Kent Burnett. When I knew, when there was no possible doubt, why, what in heaven's name could I do? It wasn't Manley's calf. I turned it loose to go back where it belonged. With a VP on its ribs. Kent was staring at her curiously. Well, I don't care. Fifty VPs couldn't make the calf manlies. If anybody came and saw that cow, why? Val looked at him rather pityingly, as if she could not quite understand how he could

even question her upon that point. And, after all, she added forlornly, he's my husband. I couldn't, I had to do what I could to shield him, just for sake of the past, I suppose. Much as I despise him, I can't forget that—that I cared once. It's because I wanted your advice that I— It's a pity you didn't get it sooner then. Can't you see what you've done? Why, think a minute. A VP calf running with a wishbone cow.

Why, it's—you couldn't advertise man as a rustler, better if you tried. The first fellow that runs into that cow and calf, well, he won't need to do any guessing, he'll know. It's a ticket to Deer Lodge, that VP calf. Now do you see? He turned away to the window and stood looking absently at the brown hillside, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. And there's Fred de Garmo with his new job, ranging around. on the country, just aching to scent somebody and show his authority. It's a matter of days almost. He'd like nothing better than to get a whack it, man, even if the wishbone...

Outside they could hear polycarp throwing the wood off the wagon. Knowing him as they did, they knew it would not be long before he found an excuse for coming into the house. He had more than once evinced a good deal of interest in Kent's visits there. and shown an unmistakable desire to know what they were talking about. They had never paid much attention to him, but now even Val felt a vague uneasiness, lest he over here. She had been sitting, her face buried in her arms, crushed beneath the knowledge of what she had done.

"'Don't worry, little woman,' Kent went over and passed his hand lightly over her hair. "'You did what looked to you to be the right thing, the honest thing, and the chances are he'd get caught before long anyhow. I don't reckon this is the first time he's done it. Oh, but to think, to think that I should do it, when I wanted to save him. He, can't I despise him? He has killed all the love I ever felt for him, killed it over and over. But if anybody finds that calf and, if they can't,

I shall go crazy if I have to feel that I sent him to prison. To think of him, shut up there, and to know that I did it. I can't bear it. She caught his arm. She pressed her forehead against it. Kent, isn't there some way to get it back? If I should find it and shoot it and pay the wishbone what it's worth, oh, any amount, or shoot the cow, or...

she raised her face imploringly to his tell me pal or i shall go stark raving mad pollycar came into the kitchen and from the sound he was trying to enter as unobtrusively as possible even to the extent of walking on his toes go see what that darned old sneak wants kent commanded in an undertone act as if nothing happened if you can he watched anxiously while she drew a long breath pressed her hands hard against her cheeks closed her lips tightly and then with something like composure went quietly to the door and threw it open polycarp was standing very close to it on the other side he drew back a step i wondered if i better get another load now i've got the team hooked up he began in his rasping nasal voice his slit-like eyes peering inquisitively into the room hello kenneth i thought that was your horse standing outside or would you rather i cut up a pile i don't know but what i'll have to go go to town tomorrow or next day. Maybe I'd better cut you some wood, hey? If man ain't likely to be home, maybe... I think polycarp will have a storm soon, so it would be good policy to haul another load, don't you think? I can manage very well with what there is cut until Manley returns, and there are

always small branches that I can break easily with the axe. I really think it would be safer to have another load, hauled now while we can. Don't you think so? Val even managed to smile at him. If my head wasn't so bad, she added deceitfully, I should be tempted to go along, just for a dose sight of the river. Mr. Bermed is going directly. Perhaps I may walk down later on. But you had better not wait. I shouldn't want to keep you working till dark. polycarp eyeing her and kent and the room in all its details forced his hand into his trousers pocket brought up his battered plug of tobacco and pried off a piece which he rolled into his left cheek with his tongue just as you say he surrendered though it was perfectly plain that he would much prefer to cut wood and so be able to see all that went on even though he was denied the gratification of hearing what they said he waited a moment but val turned away and even had the audacity to close the door upon his unfinished reply he listened for a moment his head craned forward

purdy kinda goin's on he mumbled time man had a flea put in his ear by granny if he don't want to lose that yellow-eyed wife o'hizn to polycarp a closed door when a man and woman were alone upon the other side could mean nothing but surreptitious kisses and the like he went stumbling out and drove away down the coolly his head turning automatically so that his eyes were constantly upon the house. From his attitude, as Kent saw him through the window, Polycarp expected an explosion at the very least. His outraged virtue vested itself in one more sentence. Pretty blamed nervy by granny to go and shut the door right in my face. Inside the room Val stood for a minute with her back against the door as if she half-feared Polycarp would break in and drag her secret from her. When she heard him leave the kitchen, she drew a long breath, eloquent in itself.

When the rattle of the wagon came to them there, she left the door and went slowly across the room until she stood close to Kent. The interruption had steadied them both. Her voice was a constrained calm when she spoke. Well, is there anything I can do? Do? Because I suppose every minute is dangerous. Kent kept his eyes upon the departing polycarp. There's nothing you can do, no. Maybe I can do something.

Soon as that granny gossip is out of sight, I'll go and round up that cow and calf, if somebody hasn't beaten me to it. Val looked at him with a certain timid helplessness. Oh, will you? Won't it be against the law if you—if you kill it?" She grew slightly excited again. Kent, you shall not get into any trouble for—for his sake. If it comes to a choice, why, let him suffer for his crime.

You shall not. Kent turned his head slowly and gazed down at her. "'Don't run away with the idea I'm doing it for him,' he told her distinctly. i love man fleetwood like i love a wolf but if that v p calf catches him up you'd fight your head over it god only knows how long i know you you'd think so much about the part you played that you'd wind up by forgetting everything else you'd get to thinkin of him as a martyr maybe no it's for you i kind of got you into this you recollect if i'd let you see man drunk that day you'd never have married him i know that now so i'm going to get you out of it my side of the question can wait she stared up at him with a grave understanding but you know what i said you won't do anything that can make you trouble won't you tell me kent what you're going to do he had already started to the door but he stopped and smiled reassuringly nothing so fierce if i can find him i aim to bar out that v p sabi end of chapter nineteen chapter twenty chapter twenty chapter two

20 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. Bauer This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 20. A Blotched Brand At the brow of the hill, which was the western rim of the coolly, Kent turned and waved a farewell to Val, watching him wistfully from the kitchen door. She had wanted to go along. She had almost cried to go and help.

But Kent would not permit her, and beneath the unpleasantness of denying her anything, there had been a certain primitive joy in feeling himself master of the situation and of her actions. For that one time it was as if she belonged to him. At the last he had accepted the field glasses, which he insisted upon lending him, and now he was tempted to take them from their worn leathern case

and focus them upon her face, just for the meager satisfaction of one more level, look at her. But he rode on out of sight, for the necessity which drove him forth did not permit much loitering if he would succeed in what he had set out to do. Personally, he would have felt no compunctions whatever about letting the calf go, a walking advertisement of Manly's guilt. It seemed to him a sort of grim retribution, and no more than he deserved. He had not exaggerated his sentiments when he intimated plainly to her his hatred of manly, and he agreed with her that the fellow was making a despicable return for the kindness his neighbors had always shown him. No doubt he had

stolen from the double diamond as well as the wishbone. Once Kent pulled up, half-minded to go back and let events shape themselves without any interference from him. But there was Val. Women were so queer about such things. It seemed to Kent that, if any man had caused him as much misery as manly had caused Val, he would not waste much time worrying over him, if he tangled himself up with his own misdeeds. However, Val wanted that bit of evidence covered up. So, while Kent did not approve, he went at the business with his customary thoroughness. The field-glasses was were a great convenience. More than once they saved him the trouble of riding a mile or two to inspect a small bunch of stock. Nevertheless, he rode for several hours before, just at sundown,

he discovered the cow feeding alone with her calf in a shallow depression near the rough country next the river. They were wild, and he ran them out of the hollow and up on high ground before he managed to drop his loop over the calf's head. You sure are a dandy fine signpost all right, he observed, and grinned down at the staring VP brand. It's a pity you can't be left that way. He glanced cautiously around him at the great empty prairie. A mile or two away, a lone horseman was loping leisurely along,

evidently bound for the double diamond. say this is kind of public kent complained to the calf let's you and me go down out of sight for a minute he started off toward the hollow dragging the calf a protesting bundle of stiffened muscles pulling against the rope the cow shaking her head in a half-hearted defiance followed kent kept an uneasy eye upon the horseman and hoped fervently the fellow was absorbed in meditation and would not glance in his direction once he was almost at the point of turning the calf loose for barring out brands even illegal brands is justly looked upon with disfavor to say the least down in the hollow which kent reached with a sigh of relief he dismounted and hastily started a little fire on a barren patch of ground beneath a jutting sandstone ledge the calf tied helpless lay near by and the cow hovered close uneasy but lacking courage for a rush kent laid hand upon his saddle hesitated and shook his head he might need it in a hurry and censuring takes time both in the removal and the replacement and is vitally important withal his knife he had lost on the last roundup he scowled at the necessity lifted his heel and took off a spur and if that darn jinny don't get too blamed curious and come foggin over this way he spoke the phrase aloud out of the middle of a mental arrangement

of the chance he was taking. To heat the spur red-hot, draw it across the fresh VP again and again, and finally drag it criss-cross once or twice to make assurance in absolute certainty did not take long. Kent was particular about not wasting any seconds. The calf stopped its dismal blatting,

and when Kent released it and coiled his rope, it jumped up and ran for its life, the cows ambling solicitously at its heels. Kent kicked the dirt over the fire, eyed it sharply a moment to make sure it was perfectly harmless, mounted in haste, and rode up the sloping side down which he had come. Just under the top of the slope, he peeked anxiously out over the prairie,

ducked precipitably, and went clattering away down the hollow to the farther side, dodged around a spur of rocks, forced his horse down over a wicked jumble of boulders to level land below, and rode as if a hangman's noose were the penalty for delay. When he reached the river, which he did after many windings and turnings, he got off and washed his spur, scrubbing it diligently with sand in an effort to remove the traces of fire. When the evidence was at least less conspicuous, he put up to the moment. put it on his heel and jogged down the riverbank quite innocently, inwardly thankful over his

escape. He had certainly done nothing wrong, but one sometimes finds it rather awkward to be forced into an explanation of a perfectly righteous deed. If I'd been stealing that calf, I'd never have been crazy enough to take such a long chance, he mused and laughed a little. I'll bet Fred thought he was due to grab a rustler right in the act, only he was a little bit slow about making up his mind. Deputy stock inspectors had ought to think quicker than that. He was just about five minutes too deliberate. I'll gamble he's scratching his head right now,

over that blotched brand, trying to sobby the play, which he won't, not in a thousand years. He gave the reins a twitch and began to climb through the dust to the lighter hilltop, at a point just east of Cold Spring Cooley. At the top, he put the spurs to his horse and headed straight as might be for the Wishbone Ranch. He would like to have told Val of his success, but he was afraid Manley might be there, or Polycarp. It was wise always to avoid polycarp jenks, if one had anything to consider. seal from his fellows.

End of Chapter 20. Chapter 21 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. B. M. Bower. This Liber Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 21. Val decides. It was the middle of the next forenoon when Manly came riding home, sullen from drink and a losing game of poker, which had kept him all night at the table, and at sunrise sent him forth in the mood which means,

a grievance more than half way. He did not stop at the house, though he saw Val through the open door. He did not trouble to speak to her even, but rode on to the stable, stopping at the corral to look over the fence at the calves, still bawling sporadically between half-hearted nibblings at the hay which Polycarp had thrown into them. Just at first he did not notice anything wrong, but soon a vague disquiet seized him, and he frowned thoughtfully at the little group. Something puzzled him,

but his brain, fogged with whiskey and loss of sleep, and the reaction from hours of concentration upon the game, could not quite grasp the thing that troubled him. In a moment, however, he gave an inarticulate bellow, wheeled about, and rode back to the house. He threw himself from the horse almost before it stopped,

and rushed into the kitchen. Val, ironing one of her ruffled white aprons, looked up quickly, turned rather pale, and then stiffened perceptibly for the conflict that was coming. There's only four calves in the corral, and I brought in five. Where's the other one? He came up and stood quite close to her, so close that Val took a step backward. He did not speak loud, but there was something in his tone, in his tone, in his own. look that drove the little remaining color from her face. Manly, she said with a catch of the breath. Why did you do that horrible thing?

What devil possessed you? I... I asked you, where is that other calf? Where is it? There's only four. I brought in five. His very calmness was terrifying. Val threw back her head, and her eyes were,

as they frequently became in moments of stress, yellow, inscrutable, like the eyes of a lion in a cage. Yes, you brought in five. One of the five, at least, you stole. You put your brand, Manly Fleetwood, on a calf that did not belong to you. It belonged to the wishbone, and you know it.

I have learned many disagreeable things about you, Manley, in the past two years. Yesterday morning, I learned that you were a thief. Oh, I despise you, stealing from the very men who helped you, the men to whom you owe nothing but gratitude and friendship. Have you no manhood whatever? Besides being weak and shiftless, are you a criminal as well? How can you be so utterly lacking in common decency even?

She eyed him as she would look at him. some strange monster in a museum about which he was rather curious. I asked you where that other calf is, and you'd better tell me. It was the tone which goes well with a knife thrust or a blow, but the contempt in Vell's face did not change. Well, you'll have to hunt for it if you want to. The cow, a wishbone cow, mind you, came and claimed it. I let her have it.

no stolen goods can remain on this ranch with my knowledge manly fleetwood please remember oh you turned it out did you you turned it out he had her by the throat shaking her as a puppy shakes a purloined shoe i could kill you for that manly ah it was not pleasant that gurgling cry as she straggled to get free he had the look of a maniac as he pressed his fingers into her throat and glared down into her purpling face with a sudden impulse he cast her limp form violently from him she struck against a chair fell from that to the floor and lay a huddled heap her crisp ruffled skirt just giving a glimpse of tiny half-worn slippers her yellow hair fallen loose and hiding her face he stared down at her but he felt no remorse she had jeopardized his liberty his standing among men a cold horror caught him when he thought of the calf turned loose in the range his brand on its ribs he rushed in a panic from the kitchen flung himself into the saddle and went off across the coolly whipping both sides of his horse she had not told him indeed he had not asked her which way the cow had gone, but instinctively he rode to the west,

the direction from which he had driven the calves. One thought possessed him utterly, he must find that calf. So he rode here and there, doubling and turning to search every feeding herd he glimpsed, fearing to face the possibility of failure and its inevitable consequence. The cat, with the white spots on its sides,

Val called her Mary Arabella, for some whimsical reason, came into the kitchen, looked inquiringly at the huddled figure upon the floor, gave a faint mew, and went slowly up, purring and arching her back. She snuffed a moment at Val's hair, then settled herself in the hollow of Val's arm, and curled down for a nap. The sun, sliding up to midday, shone straight in upon them through the open door. polycarp jenks riding that way in obedience to some obscure impulse lifted his hand to give his customary tap tap before he walked in saw val lying there and almost fell headlong into the room in his haste and perturbation it looked very much as if he had at last stumbled upon the horrible tragedy which was his one day-dream to be an eye-witness of a murder and to be able to tell the tale after he had at last stumbled upon the horrible tragedy which was his one day-dream to be an eye-witness of a murder and to be able to tell the tale after

without minute, horrifying detail, that, to Polycarp, would make life really worth living. He shuffled over to Val, pushed aside the mass of yellow hair, turned her head so that he could look into her face, saw at once the bruised marks upon her throat, and stood up very straight. "'Foul play has been done here,' he exclaimed melodramatically, eyeing the cat sternly. murder that's what it is by granny a foul murder the victim of the foul murder stirred slightly polycarp started and bent over her again somewhat disconcerted perhaps but more humanly anxious miss fleetwood miss fleetwood you heard it's polycarp jenks talking to you he hesitated pushed the cat away lifted val with some difficulty and carried her into the front room and deposited her on the couch then he hurried after some water come mightn't i been a murder by granny from the marks on her neck come mightn't i all right he sprinkled water lavishly upon her face bethought him of a possible whisky flask in the haystack and ran every step of the way there and back he found a discarded bottle with a very large

little left in it and forced the liquor down her throat that'll fetch you if anything will he he mumbled tittering from sheer excitement beyond a very natural desire to do what he could for her he was extremely anxious to bring her to her senses so that he could hear what had happened and how it happened betcha man got jealous of her and kenneth by granny i betcha that's how it come about eh feelin better miss fleetwood val had opened her eyes and was looking at him rather stupidly there was a bruise upon her head as well as upon her throat she had been stunned and her wits came back slowly when she recognized polycarp she tried ineffectually to sit up i he is he gone her voice was husky her speech labored man you mean he's gone yes don't you be afeard not whilst i'm here by granny how came it he done this to you val was still staring at him bewilderedly polycarp repeated his question three times before the blank look left her eyes i turned the calf out the cow came and claimed it manly she lifted her hand as if it were very very heavy and fumbled at her throat manly when i told him he was a thief she dropped her hand wearily to her side and closed her eyes as if the sight of polycarp's face so close to hers and so insatiably she dropped her hand wearily to her side and closed her eyes as if the sight of polycarp's face so close to hers and so insatiable

curious and eager and cunning was more than she could bear go away she commanded after a minute or two i'm all right it's nothing i fell it was the heat thank you so much she opened her eyes and saw him there still she looked at him gravely speculatively she waved her hand toward the bedroom get me my hand-glass in there on the dresser she said when he had tiptoed in and got it for her she lifted it up slowly with both hands until she could see her throat there were distinct tell-tale marks upon the tender flesh unmistakable finger-prints she shivered and dropped the glass to the floor but she stared steadily up at polycarb and after a moment she shivered she looked up at polycarp and after a moment she shivered she spoke with a certain fierceness. Polycarp, jinks, don't ever tell about those marks. I don't want anyone to know. When, after a while, I want to think first,

perhaps you can help me. Go away now, not away from the ranch, but let me think. I'm all right, or I will be. Please go. Polycarp recognized that, Tom. however it might be hoarsened by bruised muscles and the shock of what she had suffered he recognized also that look in her eyes he had always obeyed that look and that tone he obeyed them now though with visible reluctance he sat down in the kitchen to wait and while he waited he chewed tobacco incessantly and ruminated upon the mystery which lay behind the few words val had first spoken before she was realized just what it was she was saying.

After a long, long while, so long that even Polycarp's patience was feeling the strain, Val opened the door and stood leaning weakly against the casing. Her throat was swathed in a piece of white silk. I wish, Polycarp, you'd get the team and hitch it to the light rig, she said. I want to go to town, and I don't feel able to drive. Can you take me in? Can you spare the time? Why, certainly. I can take you in, Miss Fleetwood. I was just thinking it wasn't safe for you out here.

It is perfectly safe, Val interrupted chillingly. I am going because I want to see Arlene Hawley. She raised her hand to the bandage. I have a sore throat, she stated, staring hard at him. Then with one of her impulsive changes, she smiled wistfully. "'You'll be my friend, Polycarp, won't you?' she pleaded. "'I can trust you, I know, with my secret. "'It is a secret. It must be a secret.

"'I'll tell you the truth, Polycarp. "'It was manly. He had been drinking again. "'He—we had a quarrel about something. "'He didn't know what he was doing. he didn't mean to hurt me but i fell i struck my head see there is a great lump there she pushed back her hair to show him the place so it's a secret just between you and me polycarp jenks why certainly miss fleetwood don't you be the least mite uneasy i'm your friend i always have been a feller ain't to be held responsible when he's drank and by grink Granny, that's a fact. He ain't. No, Val agreed laconically. I suppose not.

Let us go, then, as soon as we can, please. I'll stay overnight with Mrs. Holly, and you can bring me back tomorrow, can't you? And you'll remember not to mention anything, won't you, Polycarp? Polycarp stood very straight and dignified. I hope, Miss Fleawood, you can always always depend on polycarp Jenks, he replied virtuously. Your secret is safe with me. Val smiled, somewhat doubtfully it is true, and let him go.

Maybe it is, I hope so, she sighed as she turned away to dress for the trip. All through that long ride to town, Polycarp talked and talked and talked. He made surmises and waited openly to hear the trip. them confirmed or denied. He gave her advice. He told her everything he had ever heard about manly, or had seen, or knew from some other source. Everything, that is, save what was good. The sums he had lost at poker, or had borrowed, the debts he owed to the merchants, the reputation he had for talking big and doing little, the trouble he had with this man and that man, and what he did not know for a certainty he guessed at, and so kept the subject alive.

True, Val did not speak at all, except when he asked her how she felt. Then she would reply Dully, "'Pretty well, thank you, Pollycarp.' Invariably, those were the word she used. Whenever he stole a furtive sidelong glance at her, she was staring straight ahead at the great undulating prairie with the brown ribbon, which was the trail, thrown carelessly across to the skyline. Polycarp suspected that she did not see anything. She just stared with her eyes, while her thoughts were somewhere else. He was not even sure that she heard what he was saying. He thought she must be pretty sick, she was so pale, and she had such wide purple rings under her eyes. Also, he rather resented her desire to keep her trouble a secret. He favored telling everybody and organizing a party to go out and run

Man-Fleetwood out of the country, as the very mildest rebuke which the outraged community could give and remain self-respecting. He even fell silent during the last three or four miles, while he dwelt longingly upon the keen pleasure they would be in leading such an expedition. You'll remember Polycarp not to speak of this, Val urged abruptly when he drew up before the Holly Hotel. Not a hint, you know, until I give you permission. You promised. Oh, certainly, Miss Fleetwood. Certainly. Don't you be a mite uneasy? But the tone of Polycarp was dejected in the extreme. And please be ready to drive you.

me back in the morning. I should like to be at the ranch by noon at the latest." With that she left him and went into the hotel. End of Chapter 21. Chapter 22 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. B. M. B. M. B. B. M. B. W. Warr. This Liber Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 22. A friend in need. And so, Val finished, rather apathetically, pushing back the fallen and lock of hair. It has come to that. I can't remain here and keep any shred of self-respect.

All my life I've been taught to believe divorce a terrible thing, a crime almost. Now I think it is sometimes a crime not to be divorced. For months I have been coming slowly to a decision, so this is really not as sudden as it may seem to you. It is humiliating to be compelled to borrow money, but I would much rather ask you than any of my own people. My pride is going to suffer enough when I meet them, as it is. I can't let them know just how miserable and sordid a failure. Arlene gave an inarticulate snort, bent her scrawny body nearly double, and reached frankly into her stocking.

She fumbled there a moment and straightened triumphantly, grasping a flat buckskin bag. I'd feel like shaking you if you went to anybody else but me, she declared, untying the bag. I know what men is. Lord knows I've seen enough of them and their meanness, and if I can help a woman out of the clutches of one, I'm tickled to death to get the chance. I ain't saying they're all of them bad. I can afford to give the devil his due and still say that men is the limit. The good ones is so darn scarce, it ain't one woman in fifty lucky enough to get one. All I blame you for is staying with them as long as you have. I'd have quit long ago.

I was beginning to think you never would come to your senses. But you had to fight that thing out for yourself. Every woman has to. I'm glad you've woke up to the fact that Man Fleetwood didn't get a deed to you, body and soul when he married you? You've been acting as if you thought he had, and I'm glad you've got sense enough to pull out of the game when you know the best you can expect is the worst of it. There ain't no hope for Man, Fleetwood. I seen that when he went back to drinking again after he was burnt out. I did think that would steady him down, but he ain't the kind that braces up when

trouble hits him he's the sort that stays down rather than go to the trouble of getting up he's hopeless now is a rotten egg and has been for the last year here you take the whole works and if you need more i can get it for you by sending in to the bank oh but this is too much val protested when she had counted the money you're so good but really and truly i won't need half arline pushed away the proffered money impatiently how in time are you going to tell how much you'll need let me tell you valpason i ain't going to call you by his name no more the dirty cur i've been packing that money in my stocking for six months just so's to have it handy when you wanted it divorces cost more in marriage licenses as you'll find out when you get started and you why the idea val pursed her lips with something like her old spirit how could you know i'd need to borrow money i didn't know it myself even i well i can see through a wall when there's a knot-hole in it paraphrased arline calmly you may not know it but you've been getting your back east notions knocked out of you pretty fast the last year or so it was all a question of you of what kind of stuff you was made of underneath. You can put a polish on most anything,

so I couldn't tell right at first what there was to you. But you're all right. I've seen that a long time back, and so I know darn well you'd be wanting money to pull loose with. It takes money, though I know it ain't polite to say much about real dollars and cents. You'll likely use every cent of that before you're through with the deal, And remember, there's a lot more growing in the same bush if you need it. It's only waiting to be picked.

Val stared, found her eyes blurring so that she could not see, and with a sudden impulsive movement, leaned over and put her arms around Arlene, unkempt, scronny, and wholly unlovely, though she was. Arlene, you're an angel of goodness, she cried brokenly. You're the best friend I ever had in my life. I've had many who petted me and flattered me, but you, you do things. I'm ashamed, because I haven't loved you every minute since I first saw you.

I judged you, I mean, oh, you're pure shining gold inside, instead of... Oh, get out! Arlene was compelled to gulp twice before she could say even that much. i don't shine nowhere inside or out i know that well enough i never had no chance to shine it's always been wore off with hard knocks but i like shiny folks all right when they're fine cleared through and-arline dear i do love you i always shall i-i arline loosened her clasp and jumped up precipitately get out she repeated bashfully if you get me to cryin valpason i'll wish you was in halifax you go to bed and go to sleep er i'll she almost ran from the room outside she stopped in a darkened corner of the hallway and stood for some minutes with her checked gingham apron pressed tightly over her face and several times she sniffed audibly. When she finally returned to the kitchen, her nose was pink. Her eyelids were pink, and she was extremely petulant when she caught Minnie eyeing her curiously.

Val had refused to eat any supper, and beyond telling Arlene that she had decided to leave manly and return to her mother in Fern Hill, she had not explained anything very clearly, her colorless face, for instance, nor her tightly swathed throat. nor the very noticeable bruise upon her temple. Arlene had not asked a single question. Now, however, she spent some time fixing a tray with the daintiest food she knew and could procure and took it upstairs with a certain diffidence in her manner

and a rare tenderness in her faded worldly wide eyes. You got to eat, you know, she reminded Val gently. You're bucking up against the heart, part of the trail, and grubs a necessity. Take it like you would medicine, unless your throat's too sore. I see you got it all tied up. Val raised her hands in a swift alarm and clasped her throat as if she feared Arlene would remove the bandages.

Oh, it's not sore. That is—it is sore. I mean not very much, she stammered, betrayingly. Arlene set down. on the tray upon the dresser and faced Val grimly. I never asked you any questions, did I? she demanded. But you act for all the world as if, do you want me to give a guess about that tied-up neck and that black and blue lump on your forehead?

I never asked any questions. I didn't need to. Manfleet which been mauling you abound. I was kind of afraid he'd get to that point some day when he'd go. got mad enough. He's just the brand to beat up a woman. But if it took a beating to bring you to the quitting point, I'm glad he'd done it. Only, she added darkly, he'd better keep out of my reach. I'm just in the humor to claw him up some if I should get close enough. And if I happen to forget I'm a lady, I'd sure ball him out. And the bigger crowd heard me, the better. Now, you

eat this and don't get the idea you can cover up any meanness of man fleetwoods. Not for me, anyhow. I know men better than you do. You couldn't tell me nothing about him that would surprise me the least bit. I'm only thankful he didn't murder you in cold blood. Are you going to eat? Not if you keep on reminding me of such horrid things, wailed Val, and sobbed into her pillow. It's bad enough to have him choke me without having you talk about it all the time. Now, honey, don't you waste no tears on a brute like him. He ain't worth it. Arlene was on her bony knees beside the bed, crying with sympathy and self-reproach. So, in truly feminine fashion, the two wept their way back to the solid ground of everyday living.

before they reached that desirable state of composure however val told her everything within certain limits set not by caution but rather by her woman's instinct she did not for instance say much about kent though she regretted openly that polycarp knew so much about it hope never needed no newspaper so long as polycarp lives here arline grumbled when val was sitting up again and trying to eat arline's talk and jelly made of buffalo berries and sipping the tea which had gone cold. But if I can round him up in time, I'll try and get him to keep his mouth shut. I'll scare the liver out of him some way. But if he caught on to that calf deal... She shook her head doubtfully. The worst of it is, Fred's in town, and he's always pumping polycarp dry,

just to find out all that's going on. You go to bed, and I'll see if he's in town. I can find out whether they're together. If they are, but you needn't to worry none. I reckon I'm a match for the both of them. Why, I'd dope their coffee and send them both to sleep till man got out of the country if I had to. She stood with her hands upon her angular hips and glared at Val. I sure would do that very thing for you, she reiterated solemnly. I don't pretend I'd do it for man, but i would for you but it's likely kentis fixed things up so they can't get nothin on man if they try he would if he said he would that there's one feller that's on the square you go to bed now whilst i go on a still hunt of my own i'll come and tell you if there's anything to tell it was easy enough to make the promise but keeping it was so difficult that she yielded to the temptation of going to bed and letting

Val's sleep in peace, which he could not have done if she had known that Polycarp Jenks and Fred de Garamo left town on horseback within an hour after Polycarp had entered it, and that they had told no man their errand. Over behind Brinberg's store, Polycarp had told Fred all he knew, all he suspected, and all he believed would come to pass. Strictly on the quiet, of course, he reminded Fred of that over and over, because he had promised Mrs. Fleetwood that he would not mention it. But by Granny, he apologized, I didn't like the idea of keeping a thing like that from you. It would kind of look as if I was standing in on the deal, which I ain't. Nobody can't accuse me of rustling, no matter what else I might do.

You know that, Fred. Sure, I know you're honest anyway. Fred responded quite sincerely. Well, I considered it my duty to tell you. I've kind of had my suspicions all fall that there was something scaly going on at Cold Spring. Look to me like man had two blamed many calves missing by Spring Roundup for the size of his herd.

I don't know, of course, just where he gets him. You'll have to find that out. But he's brung twelve or fourteen to the ranch, two or three at a time. And what she said when she first come to told me right out by Granny that man choked her because she called him a thief and something about a cow coming and claiming in her calf

and her turning it out. That ought to be might nigh all the evidence you need, Fred, if you find it. She don't know she said it, but she wouldn't have told it by Granny if it wasn't so, now would she? And you say all this happened today? Fred pondered for a minute. That's queer, because I almost caught a fellow last night doing some funny work on a calf.

A wishbone cow it was, and her calf fresh burned. A barred out brand by thunder? If it was today, I'd say man found it and blotched the brand. I wish now I'd hazed them over to the double diamond and corralled them like I had a mind to. but we can find him easy enough. But that was last night, and you say this big setting came off today? You sure, Polly?

Coors I'm sure, Pollycarp waggled his head solemnly. He was enjoying himself to the limit. He was the man on the inside, giving out information of the greatest importance, and an officer of the law was hanging anxiously upon his words. He spoke slowly, giving weight to every word. I rode up to the house, man's house, somewhere close to noon, and there she was, laying on the kitchen floor.

Didn't know nothing, and had the marks of somebody's fingers on her throat. The rest of her neck so white, they showed up by Granny, like, like, Polycarp never could think of a simile. He always expectorated in such an emergency, and left his sentence unfinished. He did so now, and Fred cut in unfeelingly. Never mind that. You've gone over it half a dozen times. You say it was today, at noon or thereabouts.

Man must have done it when he found out she had turned the calf loose. He wouldn't unless he was pretty mad and scared. He isn't cold-blooded enough to wait till he'd barred out the brand and then go home and choke his wife. He didn't know about the calf till today. That's a cinch. He studied the matter with an air of grave importance. Polycarp, he said abruptly, I'm going to need you. We've got to find that bunch of cattle.

It ought to be easy enough, and haze him down into man's field where his bunch of calves are. See? Any calf that's been weaned in the last three weeks, will be pretty likely to claim its mother, and if he's got any calves branded that claim cows with some other brand, well—' He threw out his hands in a comprehensive gesture. "'That's the quickest way I know to get him,' he said. "'I want a witness along and some help. And you,' he eyed polycarp keenly,

"'a ain't safe running around town loose. All your brains seem to leak out your mother. So you come along with me." "'Well, any time after to-morrow,' hedged Polycarp, offended by the implication that he talked too much, "'I've got to drive the team home from Miss Fleetwood tomorrow. I told her I would.' "'Well, you won't.

You're going to hit the trail with me just as soon as I can find a horse for you to ride. We'll sleep at the double diamond and start from there in the morning. and if i catch you letting a word out of you about this deal i'll just have to arrest you for he did not quite know what but the very vagueness of the threat had its effect upon he went without further argument though first he went to the holly hotel with fred close behind him as a precaution against imprudent gossip and left word in the office that he would not be able to drive mrs fleetwood home the next morning but would be back to take her out the day after that if she did not mind staying in town it was that message which arline deliberately held back from val until morning you better stay here she advised them polly carp and fred's up to some devilment that's a cinch but whatever it is you're better off right here with me supposing you should drive out there and run into man what then val shivered i that's the only thing i can't bear she admitted as if the time for proud dignity and reserve had gone by if i could be sure i wouldn't need to meet him i'd rather go alone really and truly i would you know the horses are perfectly safe i've driven them to town fifty times if i have once i had to out there alone so much of the time

i'd rather not have polycarp spying around i've got to pack up there are so many things of no value to-to him things i brought out here with me and there are all my manuscripts i can't leave them lying around even if they aren't worth anything especially since they aren't worth anything she pushed back her chair with a weary movement if i could only be sure if i knew where he'd be sure if i knew where he is, she sighed. I'll lend you my gun, Arlene offered in good faith. If he comes around you and starts any funny business again, you can stand him off, even if you got some delicate feelings about blowing his brains out. Oh, I couldn't. I'm deadly afraid of guns, Val shuddered. Well, then you can't go alone. I'd go with you if you could get packed up so as to come

back today. I guess men could make out to get two meals alone. Oh, no, really and truly, Arlene, I'd just as soon go alone. I would rather, dear. Arlene was not accustomed to being called dear. She surrendered with some confusion and a blush. Well, you better wait, she admonished, temporizingly. Something may turn up. presently something did turn up she rushed breathlessly into val's room and caught her by the arm now's your chance val she hissed in a loud whisper man just now rode into town he's over in pop's place i've seen him go in he's good for the day sure i'll have hank hitch right up and you can go down to the stable and start from there so's he won't see you and i'll keep an eye out and if he leaves town i won't be far behind let me tell you he won't though there ain't one chance in a hundred he'll leave that saloon till he's full and if he tries to go then i'll have somebody lock him up in the ice-house till you get back you want to hurry up that packin and get in here quick as you can she went to the stable with val her apron thrown over her head for want of a hat

when val was sitting herself in the seat arline caught at the wheel say how in time you goin to get your trunks loaded into the wagon she cried you can't do it alone val parsed her lips she had not thought of that but polycarp will come by the time i am ready she decided you couldn't keep him away arline he would be afraid he might miss something because i suppose ours is the only ranch in the country where the wheels aren't turning smoothly polly carp and i can manage hank grinning under his ragged brown mustache handed her the lines i've got my orders he told her briefly i'll watch out the trails kept clear oh thank you i've so many good friends val answered giving him a smile to stir his sluggish blood good-bye arline don't worry about me there's a good-bye arline don't worry about me there's a good-bye a dear. I shall not be back before tomorrow night, probably. Both Arlene and Hank stood where they were, and watched her out of sight before they turned back to the sordid tasks which made up their lives. She'll make it! She's the proper stuff, Hank remarked, and lighted his pipe.

Arlene, for a wonder, sighed and said nothing. End of Chapter 22. Chapter 23 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. Bauer This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 23. Caught After two nights and a day of torment unbearable, Kent bolted from his work, which would have taken him that day, as it had done the day before,

in a direction opposite to that which his mind and his heart followed, and without apology or explanation to his fore. foreman rode straight to Cold Spring Cooley. He had no very definite plan except to see Val. He did not even know what he would say when he faced her. Michael was steaming from nose to tail when he stopped at the yard gate, which shows how impatience had driven his master. Kent glanced quickly around the place as he walked up the narrow path to the house.

Nothing was changed in the slightest particular as far as he could see. and he realized then that he had been uneasy as well as anxious. Both doors were closed, so that he was obliged to knock before Val became visible. He had a fleeting impression of extreme caution in the way she opened the door and looked out, but he forgot it immediately in his joy at seeing her. Oh, it's you! Come in, and you won't mind if I close the door. I'm afraid I'm the victim of nerves to. today.

Why? Kent was instantly solicitous. Has anything happened since I was here? Val shook her head, smiling faintly. Nothing that need to worry you, pal. I don't want to talk about worries. I want to be cheered up. I haven't laughed, Kent, for so long,

that I'm afraid my facial muscles are getting stiff. Say something funny, can't you? Kent, pushed his hat far back on his head and sat down upon a corner of the table. Such is life in the far west, and the farther west you go, the livelier, he began to declaim dutifully. The livelier it gets. Yes, I've heard that a million times, I believe.

I can't laugh at that. I never did think it funny. She sighed and twitched her shoulders impatiently because of it. i see you brought back the glasses she remarked in inanely you certainly weren't in any great hurry were you oh they had us riding over east of the home ranch hazing in some out of the hills i'm supposed to be over there right now but i ain't i expect i'll get the can all right if you're going away what do you care she taunted hmm sure what do i care he eyed her from under his brows while he bent to light a match upon the sole of his boot val had long ago settled his compunctions about smoking in her presence you seem to be all tore up here he observed irrelevantly cleaning house yes cleaning house val smiled ambiguously hubby in town yes he went in yesterday and hasn't come back yet kent smoked for a moment meditatively

i found that calf all right he informed her at last it was too late to ride around this way and tell you that night so you needn't worry any more about that i'm not worrying about that val stooped and picked up a hairpin from the floor and twirled it absently in her fingers i don't think it matters any more yesterday afternoon fred de garmo and polycarb jenks came into the coolly with a bunch of cattle and turned all the calves out of the river field with them and after a while they drove the whole lot of them away somewhere over that way she waved a slim hand to the west they let out the calves in the corral too i saw them from the window but i didn't ask them any questions i really didn't need to did i she grazed him with a glance i thought perhaps you would fail to find that calf i'm glad you did though so it wasn't the that started them hunting around here, Polly Carp and Fred, I mean. Kent looked at her queerly. Her voice was without any emotion whatever, as if the subject held no personal interest for her. He finished his cigarette and threw the stub out into the yard before either of them spoke another word. He closed the door again, stood there for a minute making up his mind, and went slowly over to where she was sitting listlessly in a chair.

her hands folded loosely in her lap. He gripped with one hand the chair back and stared down at her high-piled yellow hair. How long do you think I'm going to stand around and let you be dragged into trouble like this? He began abruptly. You know what I told you the other day? I could say the same thing over again,

and a lot more, and I'd mean more than I could find words for. Maybe you can stand this sort of thing, I can't. I'm not going to try. If you're bound to stick to that gentleman, I'm going to get out of the country where I can't see you killed by inches. Every time I come, you're a little bit wider and a little bigger-eyed. I can't stand it, I tell you. You weren't made for a hell like you're living. You were meant to be happy, and I was meant to make you happy. Every morning when I opened my eyes, eyes, do you know what I think? I think it's another day we ought to be happy in,

you and me. He took her suddenly by the shoulder and brought her up, facing him, where he could look into her eyes. We've only got just one life to live, Val, he pleaded, and we could be happy together. I'd stake my life on that. I can't go on forever just being friends, and eating my hard out for you and seeing you abused, and what for? Just because a preacher mumbled some words over you two? Only for that, you wouldn't stay with him overnight, and you know it. Is that what ought to tie two human beings together, without love or even friendship? You hate him, you can't look me in the eyes and say you don't. And he's tired of you. Some other woman would please him better, and I could make you happy."

Val broke away from his grasp and retreated until the table was between them. Her listlessness was a thing forgotten. She was panting with the quick beating of her heart. "'Kent, don't, pal. You mustn't say those things. It's wicked.' "'It's true,' he cried Hutley. "'Can you look at me and say it ain't the truth?' you've spoiled our friendship kent she accused while she evaded his question it meant so much to me just your dear good friendship my love could mean a whole lot more he declared sturdily but you mustn't say those things you mustn't feel that way kent oh he laughed grimly mustn't i how are you going to stop me he stared

hard at her, his face growing slowly rigid. There's just one way to stop me from saying such wicked things, he told her. You can tell me you don't care anything about me, and never could, not even if that down-east conscience of yours didn't butt into the game. You can tell me that and swear it's the truth, and I'll leave the country. I'll go so far you'll never see me again, so I'll never bother you anymore. I can't promise I'll stop loving you. But for my own sake, I'll sure try hard enough.

He set his teeth hard together and stood quiet, watching her. Val tried to answer him. Evidently she could not manage her voice, for he saw her begin softly beating her lips with her fist, fighting to get back her self-control. Once or twice he had seen her do that, when woman-like, the tears would come. in spite of her.

I don't want you to go away, she articulated at last with a hint of stubbornness. Well, what do you want? I can't stay unless—he did not attempt to finish the sentence. He knew there was no need. She understood well enough the alternative. For long minutes she did not speak because she could not. Like many women, she fought desperately against the tears which seemed a badge of her femininity. She sat down in a chair, dropped her face upon her folded

arms, and bit her lips until they were sore. Kent took a step toward her, reconsidered, and went over to the window, where he stood staring moodily out until she began speaking. Even then he did not turn immediately toward her. "'You needn't go, Kent,' she said with some semblance of confidence of confidence. because I'm going. I didn't tell you, but I'm going home. I'm going to get free by the same law that tied me to him. You are right. I have a down-east conscience. I think I was born with it. It demands that I get my freedom honestly. I can't steal it, pal. I couldn't be happy if I did that, no matter how hard I might try, or you. He turned to you. He turned to me.

eagerly toward her then, but she stopped him with a gesture. No, stay where you are. I want to solve my problem and, and leave you out of it. You're a complication, pal, when you talk like, like you've just been talking. It makes my conscience wonder whether I'm honest with myself. I've got to leave you out, don't you see? And so, leaving you out, I don't feel that any woman should be expected to go on. like I'm doing. You don't know, I couldn't tell you just how impossible this marriage of mine has become? The day after, well, yesterday, no, the day before yesterday, he came home and found out

what I'd done. He, I couldn't stay here after that, so... What did he do? Kent demanded sharply. He didn't dare to lay his hands on you, did he? by don't swear kent i hear so much of that from him val smiled curiously he-he swore at me i couldn't stay with him after that could i dear whether she really meant to speak that last word or not it set kent's blood dancing so that he forgot to urge his question farther he took two eager steps toward her and she retreated again behind the Two eager steps toward her, and she retreated again behind the table. Kent, don't! How can I tell you anything if you won't be good? She waited until he was standing rather sulkily by the window again.

Anyway, it doesn't matter now what he has done. I am going to leave him. I'm going to get a divorce. Not even the strictest down-east conscience could demand that I stay. I'm perfectly at ease upon that point. About this last trouble with the calves, if I could help him, I would, of course, but all I could say would only make matters worse,

and I'm a wretched failure at lying. I can help him more, I think, by going away. I feel certain there's going to be trouble over those calves. Fred de Garmo never would have come down here and driven them all away, would he, unless there was going to be trouble if he came in here and got the calves it looks as if he meant business all right kent frowned absently at the white window curtain i've seen the time he added reflectively when i'd be all broke up to have man get into trouble we used to be pretty good friends a year ago it would have broken my heart val sighed we do change so i can't quite understand why i should feel so indifferent about it now even the other day it was terrible but when i felt his fingers she stopped guiltily

he seemed a stranger to me now i don't even hate him so very much i don't want to meet him though neither do i but there was a different meaning in kent's tone so you're going to quit he looked at her thoughtfully you'll leave your address i hope oh yes val's voice betrayed some inward trepidation i'm not running away i'm just going i see he sighed impatient at the restraint she had put upon him that don't mean you won't ever come back does it or that the trains are going to quit carrying passengers to your town? Because you can't always keep me out of your problem. Let me tell you. Is it against the rules to ask when you're going, and how? Just as soon as I can get my trunks packed, and Polycarp, or somebody, comes to help me load them into the spring wagon. I promised Arlene Hawley I would be in town tonight. I don't know, though. I don't seem to be making much progress with my...

packing." She smiled at him more brightly. Let's wait ashore, pal, and get to work instead of talking about things better left alone. I know just exactly what you're thinking, and I'm going to let you help me instead of polycarp. I'm frightfully angry with him anyway. He promised me, on his word of honor, that he wouldn't mention a thing, and he must have actually hunted for a chance to tell. He didn't have the nerve to come to the house yesterday when he was here with Fred. Perhaps he won't come today, after all. So you'll have to help me make my getaway, pal.

Kent wavered. You're the limit, all right, he told her after a period of hesitation. You just wait, old girl, till you get that conscience of your squared. What shall I do? I can pack a war bag in one minute and three-quarter. and a horse in five minutes, provided he don't get gay and pitch the pack off a time or two, and somebody's around to help throw the hitch. Just tell me where to start in, and you won't be able to see me for dust.

You seem in a frightful hurry to have me go, Val complained, laughing, nevertheless with a nervous reaction. Packing a trunk takes time and care and intelligence. now isn't that awful kent's eyes flared with mirth all the more pronounced because it was entirely superficial well you take the time and care mrs good packer and i'll cheerfully furnish the intelligence this goes i reckon he squeezed a pink cushion into a smallest space as possible and held it out at arm's length that goes to arline don't put it in there val's laughter was not far from hysteria kent was pretending to stuff the pink cushion into her handbag better take it you'll the front door was pushed violently open and manly almost fell into the room val gave a little inarticulate cry and shrank back against the wall before she could recover herself they had for the moment forgotten manly and all he stood for in the way of heartbreak. A strange-looking manly he was,

with his white face and staring bloodshot eyes and the cruel animal lines around his mouth. Hardly recognizable to one who had not seen him since three or four years before he would have been. He stopped short just over the threshold and glanced suspiciously from one to the other before he came farther into the room. Dig up some girls,

in a bag, so I can carry it on horseback, he commanded. And a blanket. Where did you put those rifle cartridges? He hurried across the room to where his rifle and belt hung upon the wall, just over the little homemade bookcase. I had a couple of boxes. Where are they? He snatched down the rifle, took the belt, and began buckling it around him with fumbling fingers. Mechanically, Val reached upon a higher shelf and got him the two boxes of shells. Her eyes were fixed curiously upon his face.

What has happened? she asked him as he tore open a box and began pushing the shells one by one into his belt. Fred de Garmo, he tried to arrest me, in town. I shot him dead. He glanced furtively at Kent. can i take your horse kent i want to get across the river before you shot fred val was staring at him stupidly he whirled savagely toward her yes and i'd shoot any man that walked up and tried to take me he was a fool if he thought all he had to do was crook his finger and say come along it was over those calves and i'd say you had a hand in it if I hadn't found that calf and saw how you burned out the brand before you turned it loose. You might have told me. I wouldn't have...

He shifted his gaze toward Kent. The hell of it is, the sheriff happened to be in town for something. He's back a couple of miles. For God's sake, move. And get that flour and bacon and some matches. I've got to get across the river. I can shake him off on the other side. Hurry, Val. She went out into the kitchen,

and they heard her moving about, collecting the things he needed. I'll have to take your horse, Kent. Manly turned to him with a certain wheedling tone, infinitely disgusting to the other. Mine's all in. I rode him down, getting this far. I've got to get across the river

and into the hills the other side. i can dodge him over there you can have my horse he's good as yours anyway he seemed to feel a slight discomfort at kent's silence you've always stood by me anyway it wasn't so much my fault he came at me unawares and says man fleetwood you're my prisoner why the very tone of him was an insult and i won't stand for being arrested i pulled my gun and got him through the lungs heard him yelling he was dead hurry up with that grub i can't wait here till i ought to tell you michael's no good for water kent forced himself to say he's liable to turn back on you he's scared of it he won't turn back with me not with old jake bondy at my heels manly snatched the bag of provisions from val when she appeared and started for the door. You better leave off some of that hardware, then, Kent advised perfunctorily.

You're liable to have to swim. I don't care how I get across, just so... A panic seemed to seize him, then. Without a word of thanks or farewell, he rushed out, threw himself into Kent's saddle without taking time to tie on his bundle of bacon and flour, or remembering the blanket he had asked for. Holding his provisions under his arm,

his rifle in one hand, and his range clutched in the other, he struck the spurs home and raced down the coolly toward the river. Fred and Polycarp had not troubled to put up the wire gate after emptying the river field, so he had a straight run of it

to the very river bank. The two stood together at the window and watched him go. End of Chapter 23. Chapter 24 of Lonesome Land by B. M. B. M. Bauer. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 24. Retribution. He thought it was I, burned out that brand.

Did you notice what he said? Val, as frequently happens in times of stress, spoke first of a trivial matter before her mind would grasp the greater issues. He'll never make it, said Kent, speaking involuntarily his thought. There comes old Jake Bondy now, down the hill. Still, I don't know, if Michael takes to the water all right. If the sheriff comes here, what shall we tell him?

Shall we... He won't. He's turning off, don't you see? He must have got a sight of man from the top of the hill. michael's tolerably fresh and jake's horse isn't that makes a big difference val weakened unexpectedly as the full meaning of it all swept through her mind oh it's horrible she whispered can't what can we do not a thing only keep our heads and don't give way to nerves he hinted it's something out of our reach let's not go all to pieces over it pal she steadied under his calm voice i'm always acting foolish just at the wrong time but to think he could don't think you'll have enough of that to do managing your own affairs all this doesn't change a thing thing for you. It makes you feel bad, and for that I could kill him almost.

So much flashed out, and then he brought himself in hand again. You've still got to pack your trunks and take the train home, just the same as if this hadn't happened. I didn't like the idea at first, but now I see it's the best thing you can do for the present. After a while, we'll see about it. Don't look out if it upsets you very. Al. You can't do any good, and you've got to save your nerves. Let's pull down the shade. Oh, I've got to see! Perversely, she caught up the field glasses from the table, drew them from their case, and letting down the upper window sash with a slam, focused the glasses upon the river. He usually crosses right at the mouth of the coolly. She swung the glasses slowly about.

oh there he is just on the bank the river looks rather high oh your horse doesn't want to go in kent he whirls on his hind feet and tried to bolt when manly started in kent had been watching her face jealously here let me take a look will you i can tell she yielded reluctantly and in a moment he had caught the focus tell me what you see kent everything she begged looking anxiously from his face to the river well old jake is fogging along down the coolly but he ain't to the river yet not by a long shot ah man's riding back to take a run in that's the stuff got michael's feet wet that time the old freak they came here going clean out of sight the sheriff is he close enough val began fearfully oh we're too far away to do a thing kent kept his eyes to the glasses we couldn't do a thing if we were right there man's in swimming water already jake ain't riding in from the motions he's ordering man back oh please let me look a minute i won't get excited kent and i'll tell you everything i see please val's teeth were fairly chattering with excitement so that kent hesitated before he gave up the glasses but it seemed boorish to refuse she snatched at them as he took them from his eyes and placed them nervously to her own oh i see them both she cried after a second or two two. The sheriff's got his rifle in his hands.

Kent, do you suppose he'd... Just a bluff, pal. They all do it. What? Val gave a start. Oh, he shot, Kent. I saw him take aim. It looked as if he pointed it straight at Manly, and the smoke. She moved the glasses slowly, searching the river. Well, he'd have to be a dandy to hit anything on the river. the water and with the sun in his eyes too kent assured her hardly taking his eyes from her face with its varying expression almost he could see what was taking place at the river just by watching her oh there's manly a way out why your michael is swimming beautifully kent his head is high out of the water and the water is churning like oh manley's holding his rifle up over his head is he's looking back toward shore i wonder she added softly what he's thinking about manly you're my husband and once i

draw a bead on that gazabo on shore kent interrupted her faint faring up of sentiment toward the man she had once loved and loved no more val drew a long breath and turned the glasses reluctantly from the fugitive i don't see him oh yes he's down beside a rock on one knee and he's taking a rest across the rock and is squinting along oh he can't hit him at that distance kenny kent would he dare why it would be murder wouldn't it oh he shot again kent reached up a hand and took the glasses from her eyes with a masterful gesture you let me look he said laconically, I'm steadier than you. Val crept closer to him and looked up into his face. She could read nothing there. His mouth was shut tight so that it was a stern, straight line.

But that told her nothing. He always looked so when he was intent upon something, or thinking deeply. She turned her eyes toward the river, flowing smoothly across the mouth of the coolly. Between, the land lay sleeping lazily in the hazy sunlight of mid- autumn. The grass was brown, the rocky outcroppings of the coolly was yellow and gray and red, and the river was so blue and so quiet.

Surely that sleepy coolly and that placid river could not be witnessing a tragedy. She turned her head, irritated by its very calmness. Her eyes dwelt wistfully upon Kent's half-concealed face. "'What are they doing now, Kent?' her tone was hushed. "'I can't exactly,' he mumbled absently, his mind a mile away. She waited a moment. "'Can you see manly?' This time he did not answer at all.

He seemed terribly far off, as if only his shell of a body remained with her in the room. "'Why don't you talk?' she wailed. She waited until she could endure no more, then reached up and snatched the glasses from his eyes. "'I can't help it. I shall go crazy standing here. I've just got to see,' she panted. For a moment he clung to the glasses and stared down at her.

"'You better not, sweetheart,' he urged gently, but when she still held fast he let them go. She raised them hurriedly to her eyes and turned to the river with a shrinking impatience to know the worst and have it over with. Everything joggle so, she whimpered complainingly, trying vainly to steady the glasses. He slicked his arms around her

and let her lean against him. She did not even seem to realize it. Just then she had caught, sight of something, and her intense interest steadied her so that she stood perfectly still. "'Why, your horse!' she gasped. "'Michael, he's got his feet straight up in the air. Oh, Kent, he's rolling over, sad over. I can't see,' she held her breath. The glasses sagged as if they had grown all at once too heavy to hold.

"'I—I thought I saw—' She shivered and hid her face upon one upflung arm. Kent caught up the glasses and looked long at the river, unmindful of the girl sobbing wildly beside him. Finally he turned to her, hesitated, and then gathered her close in his arms. The glasses slid unheeded to the floor. Don't cry. It's better this way,

though it's hard enough, God knows. His voice was very gentle. think how awful it would have been val if the law had got em don't cry like that such things are happening every day somewhere he realized suddenly that this was no way to comfort her and stopped he patted her shoulder with a sense of blank helplessness he could make love but this was not the time for love-making and since he was denied that outlet for his feelings he did not know what to do except that he had led her to the couch and settled her among the cushions so that she would be physically comfortable at least he turned restlessly to the window looked out and then went to the couch and bent over her i'm going out to the gate i want to see jake bondie he's coming up the coolly he said i won't be far poor little girl poor little pal i wish i could help you he touched his lips to her hair so lightly she could not feel it and left her at the gate he met not the sheriff who was riding slowly and had just passed through the field gate but-but he met not the sheriff who was riding slowly and had just passed through the field gate but-but But Arlene and Hank, rattling up in the holly buckboard.

Thank the good Lord, he exclaimed when he helped her from the rig. I never was so glad to see anybody in my life. Go on in. She's in there crying her heart out. Man's dead. The sheriff shot him in the river. Oh, there's been hell to pay out here. My heaven's above!

Arlene stared up at him while. she grasped the significance of his words. "'I know what he had hit for here. I followed right out as quick as Hank could hitch up the team. Did you hear about Fred?' "'Yes, yes, yes, I know all about it.' Kent was guilty of pulling her through the gate and then pushing her toward the house.

"'You go and do something for that poor girl. Pack her up and take her to town as quick as God'll let you. There's been misery enough for her out here to kill a dozen women. He watched until she had reached the porch and then swung back to Hank, sitting calmly in the buckboard, with the lines gripped between his knees while he filled his pipe. I can take care of the man's side of this business fast enough,

Kent confessed whimsically. But there's some things it takes a woman to handle. He glanced again over his shoulder, gave a huge sigh of relief when he glimpsed arline's thin face as she passed the window and knelt beside the couch and turned with a lighter heart to meet the sheriff end of chapter twenty four end of lonesome land by b m b