The Virginian......................................................................................................................................................1

Owen Wister............................................................................................................................................1

Some of these pages you have seen, some you have praised, one stands newwritten because you blamed it;

and all, my dear critic, beg leave to remind you of their author's changeless admiration.

Certain of the newspapers, when this book was first announced, made a mistake most natural upon seeing the

subtitle as it then stood, A TALE OF SUNDRY ADVENTURES. "This sounds like a historical novel," said

one of them, meaning (I take it) a colonial romance. As it now stands, the title will scarce lead to such

interpretation; yet none the less is this book historicalquite as much so as any colonial romance. Indeed,

when you look at the root of the matter, it is a colonial romance. For Wyoming between 1874 and 1890 was a

colony as wild as was Virginia one hundred years earlier. As wild, with a scantier population, and the same

primitive joys and dangers. There were, to be sure, not so many Chippendale settees.

We know quite well the common understanding of the term "historical novel." HUGH WYNNE exactly fits

it. But SILAS LAPHAM is a novel as perfectly historical as is Hugh Wynne, for it pictures an era and

personifies a type. It matters not that in the one we find George Washington and in the other none save

imaginary figures; else THE SCARLET LETTER were not historical. Nor does it matter that Dr. Mitchell did

not live in the time of which he wrote, while Mr. Howells saw many Silas Laphams with his own eyes; else

UNCLE TOM'S CABIN were not historical. Any narrative which presents faithfully a day and a generation is

of necessity historical; and this one presents Wyoming between 1874 and 1890.Had you left New York or

San Francisco at ten o'clock this morning, by noon the day after tomorrow you could step out at Cheyenne

There you would stand at the heart of the world that is the subject of my picture, yet you would look around

you in vain for the reality. It is a vanished world. No journeys, save those which memory can take, will bring

you to it now. The mountains are there, far and shining, and the sunlight, and the infinite earth, and the air

that seems forever the true fountain of youth, but where is the buffalo, and the wild antelope, and where the

horseman with his pasturing thousands? So like its old self does the sagebrush seem when revisited, that you

But he will never come again. He rides in his historic yesterday. You will no more see him gallop out of the

unchanging silence than you will see Columbus on the unchanging sea come sailing from Palos with his

And yet the horseman is still so near our day that in some chapters of this book, which were published

separate at the close of the nineteenth century, the present tense was used. It is true no longer. In those

chapters it has been changed, and verbs like "is" and "have" now read "was" and "had." Time has flowed

What is become of the horseman, the cowpuncher, the last romantic figure upon our soil? For he was

romantic. Whatever he did, he did with his might. The bread that he earned was earned hard, the wages that

he squandered were squandered hard,half a year's pay sometimes gone in a night,"blown in," as he

expressed it, or "blowed in," to be perfectly accurate. Well, he will be here among us always, invisible,

waiting his chance to live and play as he would like. His wild kind has been among us always, since the

The cowpuncher's ungoverned hours did not unman him. If he gave his word, he kept it; Wall Street would

have found him behind the times. Nor did he talk lewdly to women; Newport would have thought him

oldfashioned. He and his brief epoch make a complete picture, for in themselves they were as complete as

the pioneers of the land or the explorers of the sea. A transition has followed the horseman of the plains; a

shapeless state, a condition of men and manners as unlovely as is that moment in the year when winter is

gone and spring not come, and the face of Nature is ugly. I shall not dwell upon it here. Those who have seen

it know well what I mean. Such transition was inevitable. Let us give thanks that it is but a transition, and not

Sometimes readers inquire, Did I know the Virginian? As well, I hope, as a father should know his son. And

sometimes it is asked, Was such and such a thing true? Now to this I have the best answer in the world. Once

a cowpuncher listened patiently while I read him a manuscript. It concerned an event upon an Indian

reservation. "Was that the Crow reservation?" he inquired at the finish. I told him that it was no real

reservation and no real event; and his face expressed displeasure. "Why," he demanded, "do you waste your

time writing what never happened, when you know so many things that did happen?"

And I could no more help telling him that this was the highest compliment ever paid me than I have been able

Some notable sight was drawing the passengers, both men and women, to the window; and therefore I rose

and crossed the car to see what it was. I saw near the track an enclosure, and round it some laughing men, and

inside it some whirling dust, and amid the dust some horses, plunging, huddling, and dodging. They were

cow ponies in a corral, and one of them would not be caught, no matter who threw the rope. We had plenty of

time to watch this sport, for our train had stopped that the engine might take water at the tank before it pulled

us up beside the station platform of Medicine Bow. We were also six hours ate, and starving for

entertainment. The pony in the corral was wise, and rapid of limb. Have you seen a skilful boxer watch his

antagonist with a quiet, incessant eye? Such an eye as this did the pony keep upon whatever man took the

rope. The man might pretend to look at the weather, which was fine; or he might affect earnest conversation

with a bystander: it was bootless. The pony saw through it. No feint hoodwinked him. This animal was

thoroughly a man of the world. is undistracted eye stayed fixed upon the dissembling foe, and the gravity of

his horseexpression made the matter one of high comedy. Then the rope would sail out at him, but he was

already elsewhere; and if horses laugh, gayety must have abounded in that corral. Sometimes the pony took a

turn alone; next he had slid in a flash among his brothers, and the whole of them like a school of playful fish

whipped round the corral, kicking up the fine dust, and (I take it) roaring with laughter. Through the

windowglass of our Pullman the thud of their mischievous hoofs reached us, and the strong, humorous

curses of the cowboys. Then for the first time I noticed a man who sat on the high gate of the corral, looking

on. For he now climbed down with the undulations of a tiger, smooth and easy, as if his muscles flowed

beneath his skin. The others had all visibly whirled the rope, some of them even shoulder high. I did not see

his arm lift or move. He appeared to hold the rope down low, by his leg. But like a sudden snake I saw the

noose go out its length and fall true; and the thing was done. As the captured pony walked in with a sweet,

churchdoor expression, our train moved slowly on to the station, and a passenger remarked, "That man

But the passenger's dissertation upon roping I was obliged to lose, for Medicine Bow was my station. I bade

my fellowtravellers goodby, and descended, a stranger, into the great cattle land. And here in less than ten

My baggage was lost; it had not come on my train; it was adrift somewhere back in the two thousand miles

that lay behind me. And by way of comfort, the baggageman remarked that passengers often got astray from

their trunks, but the trunks mostly found them after a while. Having offered me this encouragement, he turned

whistling to his affairs and left me planted in the baggageroom at Medicine Bow. I stood deserted among

crates and boxes, blankly holding my check, fungus and forlorn. I stared out through the door at the sky and

the plains; but I did not see the antelope shining among the sagebrush, nor the great sunset light of

Wyoming. Annoyance blinded my eyes to all things save my grievance: I saw only a lost trunk. And I was

muttering halfaloud, "What a forsaken hole this is!" when suddenly from outside on the platform came a

The voice was Southern and gentle and drawling; and a second voice came in immediate answer, cracked and

And the first voice responded caressingly:"Why, your Sunday clothes told me, Uncle Hughey. They are

And the other gently continued, "Ain't them gloves the same yu' wore to your last weddin'?"

Already I had forgotten my trunk; care had left me; I was aware of the sunset, and had no desire but for more

of this conversation. For it resembled none that I had heard in my life so far. I stepped to the door and looked

Lounging there at ease against the wall was a slim young giant, more beautiful than pictures. His broad, soft

hat was pushed back; a looseknotted, dullscarlet handkerchief sagged from his throat; and one casual

thumb was hooked in the cartridgebelt that slanted across his hips. He had plainly come many miles from

somewhere across the vast horizon, as the dust upon him showed. His boots were white with it. His overalls

were gray with it. The weatherbeaten bloom of his face shone through it duskily, as the ripe peaches look

upon their trees in a dry season. But no dinginess of travel or shabbiness of attire could tarnish the splendor

that radiated from his youth and strength. The old man upon whose temper his remarks were doing such

deadly work was combed and curried to a finish, a bridegroom swept and garnished; but alas for age! Had I

been the bride, I should have taken the giant, dust and all. He had by no means done with the old man.

"Why, yu've hung weddin' gyarments on every limb!" he now drawled, with admiration. "Who is the lucky

The old man seemed to vibrate. "Tell you there ain't been no other! Call me a Mormon, would you?"

"so nothing but her lungs came between you. And next you'd most got united with Cattle Kate, only"

"But yu' come so near, uncle! She was the one left yu' that letter explaining how she'd got married to a young

"This country's getting full of kids," stated the old man, witheringly. "It's doomed." This crushing assertion

plainly satisfied him. And he blinked his eyes with renewed anticipation. His tall tormentor continued with a

face of unchanging gravity, and a voice of gentle solicitude:"How is the health of that unfortunate"

"That's right! Pour your insults! Pour 'em on a sick, afflicted woman!" The eyes blinked with combative

"Why, I was mighty relieved when she began to recover her mem'ry. Las' time I heard, they told me she'd got

it pretty near all back. Remembered her father, and her mother, and her sisters and brothers, and her friends,

and her happy childhood, and all her doin's except only your face. The boys was bettin' she'd get that far too,

give her time. But I reckon afteh such a turrable sickness as she had, that would be expectin' most too much."

At this Uncle Hughey jerked out a small parcel. "Shows how much you know!" he cackled. "There! See that!

That's my ring she sent me back, being too unstrung for marriage. So she don't remember me, don't she?

The Southerner put more anxiety into his tone. "And so you're atakin' the ring right on to the next one!" he

exclaimed. "Oh, don't go to get married again, Uncle Hughey! What's the use o' being married?"

"What's the use?" echoed the bridegroom, with scorn. "Hm! When you grow up you'll think different."

"Course I expect to think different when my age is different. I'm havin' the thoughts proper to twentyfour,

The Southerner took a tone of selfreproach. "Now, how could I forget you was fifty," he murmured, "when

Have you ever seen a cockatoothe white kind with the topknotenraged by insult? The bird erects every

available feather upon its person. So did Uncle Hughey seem to swell, clothes, mustache, and woolly white

beard; and without further speech he took himself on board the Eastbound train, which now arrived from its

Yet this was not why he had not gone away before. At any time he could have escaped into the

baggageroom or withdrawn to a dignified distance until his train should come up. But the old man had

evidently got a sort of joy from this teasing. He had reached that inevitable age when we are tickled to be

With him now the Eastbound departed slowly into that distance whence I had come. I stared after it as it

went its way to the far shores of civilization. It grew small in the unending gulf of space, until all sign of its

presence was gone save a faint skein of smoke against the evening sky And now my lost trunk came back

into my thoughts, and Medicine Bow seemed a lonely spot. A sort of ship had left me marooned in a foreign

ocean; the Pullman was comfortably steaming home to port, while Ihow was I to find Judge Henry's

ranch? Where in this unfeatured wilderness was Sunk Creek? No creek or any water at all flowed here that I

could perceive. My host had written he should meet me at the station and drive me to his ranch. This was all

that I knew. He was not here. The baggageman had not seen him lately. The ranch was almost certain to be

too far to walk to, tonight. My trunkI discovered myself still staring dolefully after the vanished

Eastbound; and at the same instant I became aware that the tall man was looking gravely at me,as gravely

To see his eye thus fixing me and his thumb still hooked in his cartridgebelt, certain tales of travellers from

these parts forced themselves disquietingly into my recollection. Now that Uncle Hughey was gone, was I to

take his place and be, for instance, invited to dance on the platform to the music of shots nicely aimed?

We cannot see ourselves as other see us, or I should know what appearance I cut at hearing this from the tall

He walked toward me, and I saw that in inches he was not a giant. He was not more than six feet. It was

Uncle Hughey that had made him seem to tower. But in his eye, in his face, in his step, in the whole man,

"The Judge sent me afteh you, seh," he now explained, in his civil Southern voice; and he handed me a letter

from my host. Had I not witnessed his facetious performances with Uncle Hughey, I should have judged him

wholly ungifted with such powers. There was nothing external about him but what seemed the signs of a

nature as grave as you could meet. But I had witnessed; and therefore supposing that I knew him in spite of

his appearance, that I was, so to speak, in his secret and could give him a sort of wink, I adopted at once a

method of easiness. It was so pleasant to be easy with a large stranger, who instead of shooting at your heels

A slight chill passed over my easiness, but I went cheerily on with a further inquiry. "Find many oddities out

"Yes, seh, there is a right smart of oddities around. They come in on every train."

It was not to be expected that he would be greatly moved at my loss; but he took it with no comment

Now, what I had seen of "town" was, to my newly arrived eyes, altogether horrible. If I could possibly sleep

"For this valise," I explained, "contains all that I immediately need; in fact, I could do without my trunk for a

day or two, if it is not convenient to send. So if we could arrive there not too late by starting at once" I

To my loud ejaculation he made no answer, but surveyed me a moment longer, and then said, "Supper will be

about ready now." He took my valise, and I followed his steps toward the eatinghouse in silence. I was

As we went, I read my host's lettera brief hospitable message. He was very sorry not to meet me him self.

He had been getting ready to drive over, when the surveyor appeared and detained him. Therefore in his stead

he was sending a trustworthy man to town, who would look after me and drive me over. They were looking

Yes, I was dazed. How did they count distance in this country? You spoke in a neighborly fashion about

driving over to town, and it meantI did not know yet how many days. And what would be meant by the

term "dropping in," I wondered. And how many miles would be considered really far? I abstained from

further questioning the "trustworthy man." My questions had not fared excessively well. He did not propose

making me dance, to be sure: that would scarcely be trustworthy. But neither did he propose to have me

familiar with him. Why was this? What had I done to elicit that veiled and skilful sarcasm about oddities

coming in on every train? Having been sent to look after me, he would do so, would even carry my valise; but

I could not be jocular with him. This handsome, ungrammatical son of the soil had set between us the bar of

his cold and perfect civility. No polished person could have done it better. What was the matter? I looked at

him, and suddenly it came to me. If he had tried familiarity with me the first two minutes of our acquaintance,

I should have resented it; by what right, then, had I tried it with him? It smacked of patronizing: on this

occasion he had come off the better gentleman of the two. Here in flesh and blood was a truth which I had

long believed in words, but never met before. The creature we call a GENTLEMAN lies deep in the hearts of

thousands that are born without chance to master the outward graces of the type.

Between the station and the eatinghouse I did a deal of straight thinking. But my thoughts were destined

presently to be drowned in amazement at the rare personage into whose society fate had thrown me.

Town, as they called it, pleased me the less, the longer I saw it. But until our language stretches itself and

takes in a new word of closer fit, town will have to do for the name of such a place as was Medicine Bow. I

have seen and slept in many like it since. Scattered wide, they littered the frontier from the Columbia to the

Rio Grande, from the Missouri to the Sierras. They lay stark, dotted over a planet of treeless dust, like soiled

packs of cards. Each was similar to the next, as one old fivespot of clubs resembles another. Houses, empty

bottles, and garbage, they were forever of the same shapeless pattern. More forlorn they were than stale

bones. They seemed to have been strewn there by the wind and to be waiting till the wind should come again

and blow them away. Yet serene above their foulness swam a pure and quiet light, such as the East never

sees; they might be bathing in the air of creation's first morning. Beneath sun and stars their days and nights

Medicine Bow was my first, and I took its dimensions, twentynine buildings in all,one coal shute, one

water tank, the station, one store, two eatinghouses, one billiard hall, two toolhouses, one feed stable, and

twelve others that for one reason and another I shall not name Yet this wretched husk of squalor spent

thought upon appearances; many houses in it wore a false front to seem as if they were two stories high.

There they stood, rearing their pitiful masquerade amid a fringe of old tin cans, while at their very doors

began a world of crystal light, a land without end, a space across which Noah and Adam might come straight

from Genesis. Into that space went wandering a road, over a hill and down out of sight, and up again smaller

in the distance, and down once more, and up once more, straining the eyes, and so away.

Then I heard a fellow greet my Virginian. He came rollicking out of a door, and made a pass with his hand at

the Virginian's hat. The Southerner dodged it, and I saw once more the tiger undulation of body, and knew

"How are yu' Steve?" he said to the rollicking man. And in his tone I heard instantly old friendship speaking.

Steve looked at me, and looked awayand that was all. But it was enough. In no company had I ever felt so

"But I guess one of them drummers will let yu' double up with him." Steve was enjoying himself, I think. He

"Two Jews handling cigars, one American with consumption killer, and a Dutchman with jew'lry."

The Virginian set down my valise, and seemed to meditate. "I did want a bed tonight," he murmured gently.

"Go yu' said the Virginian. "I'll have his bed without any fuss. Drinks for the crowd."

"I suppose you have me beat," said Steve, grinning at him affectionately. "You're such a sonofa when

I had expected that the man would be struck down. He had used to the Virginian a term of heaviest insult, I

thought. I had marvelled to hear it come so unheralded from Steve's friendly lips. And now I marvelled still

more. Evidently he had meant no harm by it, and evidently no offence had been taken. Used thus, this

language was plainly complimentary. I had stepped into a world new to me indeed, and novelties were

occurring with scarce any time to get breath between them. As to where I should sleep, I had forgotten that

problem altogether in my curiosity. What was the Virginian going to do now? I began to know that the quiet

We were at the door of the eatinghouse, and he set my valise inside. In my tenderfoot innocence I was

"It's out hyeh, seh," he informed me gravely, but with strong Southern accent. Internal mirth seemed often to

heighten the local flavor of his speech. There were other times when it had scarce any special accent or fault

A trough was to my right, slippery with soapy water; and hanging from a roller above one end of it was a rag

of discouraging appearance. The Virginian caught it, and it performed one whirling revolution on its roller.

Not a dry or clean inch could be found on it. He took off his hat, and put his head in the door.

She came out, a pretty woman. Her eyes rested upon him for a moment, then upon me with disfavor; then

"The allowance is one a day," said she, very quietly. "But when folks are particular" She completed her

She looked once more at his black hair, and without any word returned to her guests at supper.

A pail stood in the trough, almost empty; and this he filled for me from a well. There was some soap sliding

at large in the trough, but I got my own. And then in a tin basin I removed as many of the stains of travel as I

was able. It was not much of a toilet that I made in this first washtrough of my experience, but it had to

Canned stuff it was,corned beef. And one of my table companions said the truth about it. "When I slung

my teeth over that," he remarked, "I thought I was chewing a hammock." We had strange coffee, and

condensed milk; and I have never seen more flies. I made no attempt to talk, for no one in this country

seemed favorable to me. By reason of something,my clothes, my hat, my pronunciation, whatever it might

be, I possessed the secret of estranging people at sight. Yet I was doing better than I knew; my strict silence

and attention to the corned beef made me in the eyes of the cowboys at table compare well with the

The Virginian's entrance produced a slight silence. He had done wonders with the washtrough, and he had

somehow brushed his clothes. With all the roughness of his dress, he was now the neatest of us. He nodded to

But silence is not the native element of the drummer. An average fish can go a longer time out of water than

this breed can live without talking. One of them now looked across the table at the grave, flannelshirted

Virginian; he inspected, and came to the imprudent conclusion that he understood his man.

The Virginian drank some coffee. Presently the pretty woman refilled his cup without his asking her.

"Haven't I, now? Ain't I seen you somewhere? Look at me. You been in Chicago, ain't you? You look at me

"See, now! I knowed you'd been in Chicago. Four or five years ago. Or maybe it's two years. Time's nothing

to me. But I never forget a face. Yes, sir. Him and me's met at Ikey's, all right." This important point the

drummer stated to all of us. We were called to witness how well he had proved old acquaintanceship. "Ain't

the world small, though!" he exclaimed complacently. "Meet a man once and you're sure to run on to him

again. That's straight. That's no barroom josh." And the drummer's eye included us all in his confidence. I

wondered if he had attained that high perfection when a man believes his own lies.

The Virginian did not seem interested. He placidly attended to his food, while our landlady moved between

"Yes, sir! Ikey's over by the stockyards, patronized by all cattlemen that know what's what. That's where.

Maybe it's three years. Time never was nothing to me. But faces! Why, I can't quit 'em. Adults or children,

male and female; onced I seen 'em I couldn't lose one off my memory, not if you were to pay me bounty, five

dollars a face. White men, that is. Can't do nothing with riggers or Chinese. But you're white, all right." The

drummer suddenly returned to the Virginian with this high compliment, The cowpuncher had taken out a

pipe, and was slowly rubbing it. The compliment seemed to escape his attention, and the drummer went on.

"I can tell a man when he's white, put him at Ikey's or out loose here in the sagebrush." And he rolled a cigar

"Solid goods, my friend. Havana wrappers, the biggest tobacco proposition for five cents got out yet. Take it,

"Oh, no, my friend! Not from you! Not after Ikey's. I don't forget you. See? I knowed your face right away.

"Maybe you did," said the Virginian. "Sometimes I'm mighty careless what I look at."

"Well, py damn!" now exclaimed the Dutch drummer, hilariously. "I am ploom disappointed. I vas hoping to

"Not the same here," stated the American. "He's too healthy for me. I gave him up on sight."

Now it was the American drummer whose bed the Virginian had in his eye. This was a sensible man, and had

talked less than his brothers in the trade. I had little doubt who would end by sleeping in his bed; but how the

The Virginian looked amiably at his intended victim, and made one or two remarks regarding patent

medicines, There must be a good deal of money in them, he supposed, with a live man to manage them. The

victim was flattered. No other person at the table had been favored with so much of the tall cowpuncher's

notice. He responded, and they had a pleasant talk. I did not divine that the Virginian's genius was even then

at work, and that all this was part of his satanic strategy. But Steve must have divined it. For while a few of

us still sat finishing our supper, that facetious horseman returned from doctoring his horse's hoofs, put his

head into the dining room, took in the way in which the Virginian was engaging his victim in conversation,

"Oh, you mustn't mind him," drawled the Virginian. "He's one of those boxhead jokers goes around openin'

and shuttin' doors thataway. We call him harmless. Well," he broke off, "I reckon I'll go smoke. Not

allowed in hyeh?" This last he addressed to the landlady, with especial gentleness. She shook her head, and

Left to myself I meditated for some time upon my lodging for the night, and smoked a cigar for consolation

as I walked about. It was not a hotel that we had supped in. Hotel at Medicine Bow there appeared to be none.

But connected with the eatinghouse was that place where, according to Steve, the beds were all taken, and

there I went to see for myself. Steve had spoken the truth. It was a single apartment containing four or five

beds, and nothing else whatever. And when I looked at these beds, my sorrow that I could sleep in none of

them grew less. To be alone in one offered no temptation, and as for this courtesy of the country, this

In this public sleeping room they had done what one does to secure a seat in a railroad train. Upon each bed,

as notice of occupancy, lay some article of travel or of dress. As we stood there, the two Jews came in and

opened and arranged their valises, and folded and refolded their linen dusters. Then a railroad employee

entered and began to go to bed at this hour, before dusk had wholly darkened into night. For him, going to

bed meant removing his boots and placing his overalls and waistcoat beneath his pillow. He had no coat. His

work began at three in the morning; and even as we still talked he began to snore.

"The man that keeps the store is a friend of mine," said the Virginian; "and you can be pretty near

"Seems a waste of time," observed the Virginian. He looked thoughtfully from one bed to another. "I didn't

"This one's mine," said the drummer, sitting down on it. "Half's plenty enough room for me."

"You're cert'nly mighty kind," said the cowpuncher. "But I'd not think o' disconveniencing yu'."

"That's nothing. The other half is yours. Turn in right now if you feel like it."

"See here," urged the drummer, "if I take you I'm safe from drawing some party I might not care so much

"Well," said the Virginian (and his hesitation was truly masterly), "if you put it that way"

"I do put it that way. Why, you're clean! You've had a shave right now. You turn in when you feel inclined,

The drummer had struck a slightly false note in these last remarks. He should not have said "old man." Until

this I had thought him merely an amiable person who wished to do a favor. But "old man" came in wrong. It

had a hateful taint of his profession; the being too soon with everybody, the celluloid goodfellowship that

passes for ivory with nine in ten of the city crowd. But not so with the sons of the sagebrush. They live nearer

But the Virginian blandly accepted "old man" from his victim: he had a game to play. "Well, I cert'nly thank

I was surprised. Possession being nine points of the law, it seemed his very chance to intrench himself in the

bed. But the cowpuncher had planned a campaign needing no intrenchments. Moreover, going to bed before

nine o'clock upon the first evening in many weeks that a town's resources were open to you, would be a dull

proceeding. Our entire company, drummer and all, now walked over to the store, and here my sleeping

arrangements were made easily. This store was the cleanest place and the best in Medicine Bow, and would

have been a good store anywhere, offering a multitude of things for sale, and kept by a very civil proprietor.

He bade me make myself at home, and placed both of his counters at my disposal. Upon the grocery side

there stood a cheese too large and strong to sleep near comfortably, and I therefore chose the drygoods side.

Here thick quilts were unrolled for me, to make it soft; and no condition was placed upon me, further than

that I should remove my boots, because the quilts were new, and clean, and for sale. So now my rest was

assured. Not an anxiety remained in my thoughts. These therefore turned themselves wholly to the other

I think that Steve was more curious even than myself. Time was on the wing. His bet must be decided, and

the drinks enjoyed. He stood against the grocery counter, contemplating the Virginian. But it was to me that

This was the subcurrent which the Virginian plainly looked for. But he, like Steve, addressed himself to me.

"I guess you'll find it a drier country than you were given to expect," said Steve.

"There's parts of Wyoming," pursued Steve, "where you'll go hours and hours before you'll see a drop of

"And if yu' keep athinkin' about it," said the Virginian, "it'll seem like days and days."

Steve, at this stroke, gave up, and clapped him on the shoulder with a joyous chuckle. "You old sonofa!"

"Drinks are due now," said the Virginian. "My treat, Steve. But I reckon your suspense will have to linger a

Thus they dropped into direct talk from that speech of the fourth dimension where they had been using me for

"I think I'd like to get into a game for a while," said the Southerner. "Strangers, yu' say?"

And then, before quitting the store, he made his toilet for this little hand at poker. It was a simple preparation.

He took his pistol from its holster, examined it, then shoved it between his overalls and his shirt in front, and

pulled his waistcoat over it. He might have been combing his hair for all the attention any one paid to this,

except myself. Then the two friends went out, and I bethought me of that epithet which Steve again had used

to the Virginian as he clapped him on the shoulder. Clearly this wild country spoke a language other than

The drummers had finished their dealings with the proprietor, and they were gossiping together in a knot by

"See you later, old man!" This was the American drummer accosting his prospective bedfellow.

The American drummer winked triumphantly at his brethren. "He's all right," he observed, jerking a thumb

"Point ishe'll not take any goods off you or me; but he's going to talk up the killer to any consumptive he

runs across. I ain't done with him yet. Say," (he now addressed the proprietor), "what's her name?"

"Hm! Yes. The kind of good looks I'd sooner see in another man's wife than mine."

"Hm! well, it don't seem to be. She come here with that reputation. But there's been general disappointment."

"Talking of conductors," began the drummer. And we listened to his anecdote. It was successful with his

audience; but when he launched fluently upon a second I strolled out. There was not enough wit in this

narrator to relieve his indecency, and I felt shame at having been surprised into laughing with him.

I left that company growing confidential over their leering stories, and I sought the saloon. It was very quiet

and orderly. Beer in quart bottles at a dollar I had never met before; but saving its price, I found no complaint

to make of it. Through folding doors I passed from the bar proper with its bottles and elk head back to the hall

with its various tables. I saw a man sliding cards from a case, and across the table from him another man

laying counters down. Near by was a second dealer pulling cards from the bottom of a pack, and opposite him

a solemn old rustic piling and changing coins upon the cards which lay already exposed.

Harmless looking words as I write them down here. Yet at the sound of them I noticed the eyes of the others

directed to that corner. What answer was given to them I did not hear, nor did I see who spoke. Then came

This time the two card dealers that I stood near began to give a part of their attention to the group that sat in

the corner. There was in me a desire to leave this room. So far my hours at Medicine Bow had seemed to

glide beneath a sunshine of merriment, of easygoing jocularity. This was suddenly gone, like the wind

changing to north in the middle of a warm day. But I stayed, being ashamed to go.

Five or six players sat over in the corner at a round table where counters were piled. Their eyes were close

upon their cards, and one seemed to be dealing a card at a time to each, with pauses and betting between.

"No place for amatures," repeated the voice; and now I saw that it was the dealer's. There was in his

"No. Virginia. He's recently back from havin' a look at Arizona. Went down there last year for a change.

Works for the Sunk Creek outfit." And then the dealer lowered his voice still further and said something in

the other man's ear, causing him to grin. After which both of them looked at me.

"AND ten," said he, sliding out some chips from before him. Very strange it was to hear him, how he

contrived to make those words a personal taunt. The Virginian was looking at his cards. He might have been

It was now the Virginian's turn to bet, or leave the game, and he did not speak at once.

The Virginian's pistol came out, and his hand lay on the table, holding it unaimed. And with a voice as gentle

as ever, the voice that sounded almost like a caress, but drawling a very little more than usual, so that there

was almost a space between each word, he issued his orders to the man Trampas:"When you call me that,

Yes, the voice was gentle. But in my ears it seemed as if somewhere the bell of death was ringing; and

silence, like a stroke, fell on the large room. All men present, as if by some magnetic current, had become

aware of this crisis. In my ignorance, and the total stoppage of my thoughts, I stood stockstill, and noticed

"Sit quiet," said the dealer, scornfully to the man near me. "Can't you see he don't want to push trouble? He

Then, with equal suddenness and ease, the room came out of its strangeness. Voices and cards, the click of

chips, the puff of tobacco, glasses lifted to drink,this level of smooth relaxation hinted no more plainly of

For Trampas had made his choice. And that choice was not to "draw his steel." If it was knowledge that he

sought, he had found it, and no mistake! We heard no further reference to what he had been pleased to style

"amatures." In no company would the blackheaded man who had visited Arizona be rated a novice at the

One doubt remained: what kind of a man was Trampas? A public backdown is an unfinished thing,for

some natures at least. I looked at his face, and thought it sullen, but tricky rather than courageous.

Something had been added to my knowledge also Once again I had heard applied to the Virginian that epithet

which Steve so freely used. The same words, identical to the letter. But this time they had produced a pistol.

"When you call me that, SMILE!" So I perceived a new example of the old truth, that the letter means

It was for several minutes, I suppose, that I stood drawing these silent morals. No man occupied himself with

me. Quiet voices, and games of chance, and glasses lifted to drink, continued to be the peaceful order of the

night. And into my thoughts broke the voice of that carddealer who had already spoken so sagely. He also

"What did I tell you?" he remarked to the man for whom he continued to deal, and who continued to lose

"Didn't I tell you he'd not shoot?" the dealer pursued with complacence. "You got ready to dodge. You had no

The player looked over at the Virginian, doubtfully. "Well," he said, "I don't know what you folks call a

"Not him!" exclaimed the dealer with admiration. "He's a brave man. That's different."

"It's not a brave man that's dangerous," continued the dealer. "It's the cowards that scare me." He paused that

"Fello' came in here las' Toosday," he went on. "He got into some misunderstanding about the drinks. Well,

sir, before we could put him out of business, he'd hurt two perfectly innocent onlookers. They'd no more to do

"Why, we put him out of business, I told you. He died that night. But there was no occasion for any of it; and

that's why I never like to be around where there's a coward. You can't tell. He'll always go to shooting before

it's necessary, and there's no security who he'll hit. But a man like that blackheaded guy is (the dealer

indicated the Virginian) need never worry you. And there's another point why there's no need to worry about

These good words ended the moralizing of the dealer. He had given us a piece of his mind. He now gave the

whole of it to dealing cards. I loitered here and there, neither welcome nor unwelcome at present, watching

the cowboys at their play. Saving Trampas, there was scarce a face among them that had not in it something

very likable. Here were lusty horsemen ridden from the heat of the sun, and the wet of the storm, to divert

themselves awhile. Youth untamed sat here for an idle moment, spending easily its hardearned wages. City

saloons rose into my vision, and I instantly preferred this Rocky Mountain place. More of death it

And death is a thing much cleaner than vice. Moreover, it was by no means vice that was written upon these

wild and manly faces. Even where baseness was visible, baseness was not uppermost. Daring, laughter,

endurancethese were what I saw upon the countenances of the cowboys. And this very first day of my

knowledge of them marks a date with me. For something about them, and the idea of them, smote my

American heart, and I have never forgotten it, nor ever shall, as long as I live. In their flesh our natural

passions ran tumultuous; but often in their spirit sat hidden a true nobility, and often beneath its unexpected

The dealer had styled the Virginian "a blackheaded guy." This did well enough as an unflattered portrait.

Judge Henry's trustworthy man, with whom I was to drive two hundred and sixtythree miles, certainly had a

very black head of hair. It was the first thing to notice now, if one glanced generally at the table where he sat

at cards. But the eye came back to himdrawn by that inexpressible something which had led the dealer to

Still, "blackheaded guy" justly fits him and his next performance. He had made his plan for this like a true

and (I must say) inspired devil. And now the highly appreciative town of Medicine Bow was to be treated to a

He sat playing his studpoker. After a decent period of losing and winning, which gave Trampas all proper

time for a change of luck and a repairing of his fortunes, he looked at Steve and said amiably:"How does bed

I was beside their table, learning gradually that studpoker has in it more of what I will call red pepper than

has our Eastern game. The Virginian followed his own question:"Bed strikes me," he stated.

Steve feigned indifference. He was far more deeply absorbed in his bet and the American drummer than he

was in this game; but he chose to take out a fat, florid gold watch, consult it elaborately, and remark, "It's

"Yu' forget I'm from the country," said the blackheaded guy. "The chickens have been roostin' a right smart

His sunny Southern accent was again strong. In that brief passage with Trampas it had been almost wholly

absent. But different moods of the spirit bring different qualities of utterancewhere a man comes by these

"I'm still twenty dollars to the good," said the Virginian. "That's better than breaking a laig."

Again, in some voiceless, masonic way, most people in that saloon had become aware that something was in

process of happening. Several left their games and came to the front by the bar.

"I'll find out," said I. And I hurried across to the dim sleeping room, happy to have a part in this.

They were all in bed; and in some beds two were sleeping. How they could do itbut in those days I was

So then I invented a little lie, and explained that I was in search of the Virginian

"It's my box of Consumption Killer," explained the drummer; "Well, I hope that man will stay out all night."

"For two it is. And the pillows are mean. Takes both before you feel anything's under your head."

At my news the Virginian left the bar at once; and crossed to the sleeping room. Steve and I followed softly,

and behind us several more strung out in an expectant line. "What is this going to be?" they inquired

curiously of each other. And upon learning the great novelty of the event, they clustered with silence intense

We heard the voice of the drummer, cautioning his bedfellow. "Don't trip over the Killer," he was saying.

"The Prince of Wales barked his shin just now." It seemed my English clothes had earned me this title.

He was plainly undressing. The rip of swift unbuttoning told us that the blackheaded guy must now be

"Why, thank yu', no," he was replying to a question of the drummer. "Outside or in's all one to me."

"Why, cert'nly." There was a sound of bedclothes, and creaking. "This hyeh pillo' needs a Southern climate,"

Many listeners had now gathered at the door. The dealer and the player were both here. The storekeeper was

present, and I recognized the agent of the Union Pacific Railroad among the crowd. We made a large

company, and I felt that trembling sensation which is common when the cap of a camera is about to be

"I should think," said the drummer's voice, "that you'd feel your knife and gun clean through that pillow."

"That's it. Used to the feel of them. I would miss them, and that would make me wakeful."

"Good night. If I get to talkin' and tossin', or what not, you'll understand you're to"

"Roll away quick to your side. It don't last but a minute." The Virginian spoke with a reassuring drawl.

Upon this there fell a brief silence, and I heard the drummer clear his throat once or twice.

"Lord, yes. That's all. And don't happen twice a year. Was you thinkin' it was fits?"

"Oh, no! I just wanted to know. I've been told before that it was not safe for a person to be waked suddenly

"Yes, I have heard that too. But it never harms me any. I didn't want you to run risks."

"Oh, it'll be all right now that yu' know how it is." The Virginian's drawl was full of assurance.

The Virginian answered very drowsily: "Oh, just don't let your arm or your laig touch me if I go to jumpin'

around. I'm dreamin' of Indians when I do that. And if anything touches me then, I'm liable to grab my knife

Steve was whispering delighted oaths to himself, and in his joy applying to the Virginian one unprintable

We listened again, but now no further words came. Listening very hard, I could half make out the progress of

a heavy breathing, and a restless turning I could clearly detect. This was the wretched drummer. He was

waiting. But he did not wait long. Again there was a light creak, and after it a light step. He was not even

going to put his boots on in the fatal neighborhood of the dreamer. By a happy thought Medicine Bow formed

into two lines, making an avenue from the door. And then the commercial traveller forgot his Consumption

And then everything happened at once; and how shall mere words narrate it? The door burst open, and out

flew the commercial traveller in his stockings. One hand held a lump of coat and trousers with suspenders

dangling, his boots were clutched in the other. The sight of us stopped his flight short. He gazed, the boots

fell from his hand; and at his profane explosion, Medicine Bow set up a united, unearthly noise and began to

play Virginia reel with him. The other occupants of the beds had already sprung out of them, clothed chiefly

with their pistols, and ready for war."What is it?" they demanded. "What is it?"

"Why, I reckon it's drinks on Steve," said the Virginian from his bed. And he gave the first broad grin that I

"I'll set 'em up all night!" Steve shouted, as the reel went on regardless. The drummer was bawling to be

allowed to put at least his boots on. "This way, Pard," was the answer; and another man whirled him round.

"This way, Beau!" they called to him; "This way, Budd!" and he was passed like a shuttlecock down the

line. Suddenly the leaders bounded into the sleepingroom. "Feed the machine!" they said. "Feed her!" And

seizing the German drummer who sold jewellery, they flung him into the trough of the reel. I saw him go

bouncing like an ear of corn to be shelled, and the dance ingulfed him. I saw a Jew sent rattling after him; and

next they threw in the railroad employee, and the other Jew; and while I stood mesmerized, my own feet left

the earth. I shot from the room and sped like a bobbing cork into this mill race, whirling my turn in the wake

of the others amid cries of, "Here comes the Prince of Wales!" There was soon not much English left about

They were now shouting for music. Medicine Bow swept in like a cloud of dust to where a fiddler sat playing

in a hall; and gathering up fiddler and dancers, swept out again, a larger Medicine Bow, growing all the

while. Steve offered us the freedom of the house, everywhere. He implored us to call for whatever pleased us,

and as many times as we should please. He ordered the town to be searched for more citizens to come and

help him pay his bet. But changing his mind, kegs and bottles were now carried along with us. We had found

three fiddlers, and these played busily for us; and thus we set out to visit all cabins and houses where people

might still by some miracle be asleep. The first man put out his head to decline. But such a possibility had

been foreseen by the proprietor of the store. This seemingly respectable man now came dragging some sort of

apparatus from his place, helped by the Virginian. The cowboys cheered, for they knew what this was. The

man in his window likewise recognized it, and uttering a groan, came immediately out and joined us. What it

was, I also learned in a few minutes. For we found a house where the people made no sign at either our

fiddlers or our knocking. And then the infernal machine was set to work. Its parts seemed to be no more than

an empty keg and a plank. Some citizen informed me that I should soon have a new idea of noise; and I

nerved myself for something severe in the way of gunpowder. But the Virginian and the proprietor now sat

on the ground holding the keg braced, and two others got down apparently to play seesaw over the top of it

with the plank. But the keg and plank had been rubbed with rosin, and they drew the plank back and forth

over the keg. Do you know the sound made in a narrow street by a dray loaded with strips of iron? That noise

is a lullaby compared with the staggering, blinding bellow which rose from the keg. If you were to try it in

your native town, you would not merely be arrested, you would be hanged, and everybody would be glad,

and the clergyman would not bury you. My head, my teeth, the whole system of my bones leaped and

chattered at the din, and out of the house like drops squirted from a lemon came a man and his wife. No time

was given them. They were swept along with the rest; and having been routed from their own bed, they now

became most furious in assailing the remaining homes of Medicine Bow. Everybody was to come out. Many

were now riding horses at top speed out into the plains and back, while the procession of the plank and keg

Suddenly there was a quiet. I did not see who brought the message; but the word ran among us that there was

a womanthe engineer's woman down by the watertankvery sick. The doctor had been to see her from

Laramie. Everybody liked the engineer. Plank and keg were heard no more. The horsemen found it out and

restrained their gambols. Medicine Bow went gradually home. I saw doors shutting, and lights go out; I saw a

late few reassemble at the card tables, and the drummers gathered themselves together for sleep; the

proprietor of the store (you could not see a more respectablelooking person) hoped that I would be

comfortable on the quilts; and I heard Steve urging the Virginian to take one more glass.

But the Virginian, the blackheaded guy who had set all this nonsense going, said No to Steve. "I have got to

stay responsible," was his excuse to his friend. And the friend looked at me. Therefore I surmised that the

Judge's trustworthy man found me an embarrassment to his holiday. But if he did, he never showed it to me.

He had been sent to meet a stranger and drive him to Sunk Creek in safety, and this charge he would allow no

temptation to imperil. He nodded good night to me. "If there's anything I can do for yu', you'll tell me."

Again his manner put a bar to my approaches. Even though I had seen him wildly disporting himself, those

Medicine Bow was quiet as I went my way to my quilts. So still, that through the air the deep whistles of the

freight trains came from below the horizon across great miles of silence. I passed cowboys, whom half an

hour before I had seen prancing and roaring, now rolled in their blankets beneath the open and shining night.

Morning had been for some while astir in Medicine Bow before I left my quilts. The new day and its doings

began around me in the store, chiefly at the grocery counter. Drygoods were not in great request. The early

rising cowboys were off again to their work; and those to whom their night's holiday had left any dollars

were spending these for tobacco, or cartridges, or canned provisions for the journey to their distant camps.

Sardines were called for, and potted chicken, and devilled ham: a sophisticated nourishment, at first sight, for

these sons of the sagebrush. But portable readymade food plays of necessity a great part in the opening of

a new country. These picnic pots and cans were the first of her trophies that Civilization dropped upon

Wyoming's virgin soil. The cowboy is now gone to worlds invisible; the wind has blown away the white

ashes of his campfires; but the empty sardine box lies rusting over the face of the Western earth.

So through my eyes half closed I watched the sale of these tins, and grew familiar with the ham's inevitable

trademarkthat label with the devil and his horns and hoofs and tail very pronounced, all colored a sultry

prodigious scarlet. And when each horseman had made his purchase, he would trail his spurs over the floor,

and presently the sound of his horse's hoofs would be the last of him. Through my dozing attention came

various fragments of talk, and sometimes useful bits of knowledge. For instance, I learned the true value of

"Been dry ten days," the young cowboy informed him. And it appeared that along the road he was going,

water would not be reached much before sundown, because this Meadow Creek had ceased to run. His

The boy made a shuddering face. "Don't say its name to me!" he exclaimed. "I couldn't hold my breakfast

down." He rang his silver money upon the counter. "I've swore off for three months," he stated. "I'm going to

be as pure as the snow!" And away he went jingling out of the door, to ride seventyfive miles. Three more

months of hard, unsheltered work, and he would ride into town again, with his adolescent blood crying aloud

"I'm obliged," said a new voice, rousing me from a new doze. "She's easier this morning, since the medicine."

This was the engineer, whose sick wife had brought a hush over Medicine Bow's rioting. "I'll give her them

"She likes to see flowers," said the engineer. And he walked out slowly, with his thanks unachieved. He

returned at once with the Virginian; for in the band of the Virginian's hat were two or three blossoms.

"It don't need mentioning," the Southerner was saying, embarrassed by any expression of thanks. "If we had

"You didn't disturb her any," broke in the engineer. "She's easier this morning. I'll tell her about them

"Why, it don't need mentioning," the Virginian again protested, almost crossly. "The little things looked kind

o' fresh, and I just picked them." His eye now fell upon me, where I lay upon the counter. "I reckon breakfast

I was soon at the wash trough. It was only halfpast six, but many had been before me,one glance at the

rollertowel told me that. I was afraid to ask the landlady for a clean one, and so I found a fresh

handkerchief, and accomplished a sparing toilet. In the midst of this the drummers joined me, one by one, and

they used the degraded towel without hesitation. In a way they had the best of me; filth was nothing to them.

The latest risers in Medicine Bow, we sat at breakfast together; and they essayed some light familiarities with

the landlady. But these experiments were failures. Her eyes did not see, nor did her ears hear them. She

brought the coffee and the bacon with a sedateness that propriety itself could scarce have surpassed. Yet

impropriety lurked noiselessly all over her. You could not have specified how; it was interblended with her

sum total. Silence was her apparent habit and her weapon; but the American drummer found that she could

speak to the point when need came for this. During the meal he had praised her golden hair. It was golden

indeed, and worth a high compliment; but his kind displeased her. She had let it pass, however, with no more

than a cool stare. But on taking his leave, when he came to pay for the meal, he pushed it too far.

"Pity this must be our last," he said; and as it brought no answer, "Ever travel?" he inquired. "Where I go,

From the commercial travellers I now separated myself, and wandered alone in pleasurable aimlessness. It

was seven o'clock. Medicine Bow stood voiceless and unpeopled. The cowboys had melted away. The

inhabitants were indoors, pursuing the business or the idleness of the forenoon. Visible motion there was

none. No shell upon the dry sands could lie more lifeless than Medicine Bow. Looking in at the store, I saw

the proprietor sitting with his pipe extinct. Looking in at the saloon, I saw the dealer dealing dumbly to

himself. Up in the sky there was not a cloud nor a bird, and on the earth the lightest straw lay becalmed. Once

I saw the Virginian at an open door, where the goldenhaired landlady stood talking with him. Sometimes I

strolled in the town, and sometimes out on the plain I lay down with my day dreams in the sagebrush. Pale

herds of antelope were in the distance, and near by the demure prairiedogs sat up and scrutinized me. Steve,

Trampas, the riot of horsemen, my lost trunk, Uncle Hughey, with his abortive bridesall things merged in

my thoughts in a huge, delicious indifference. It was like swimming slowly at random in an ocean that was

smooth, and neither too cool nor too warm. And before I knew it, five lazy imperceptible hours had gone

Its approach was silent and long drawn out. I easily reached town and the platform before it had finished

watering at the tank. It moved up, made a short halt, I saw my trunk come out of it, and then it moved away

Beside my trunk was one other, tied extravagantly with white ribbon. The fluttering bows caught my

attention, and now I suddenly saw a perfectly new sight. The Virginian was further down the platform,

doubled up with laughing. It was good to know that with sufficient cause he could laugh like this; a smile had

thus far been his limit of external mirth. Rice now flew against my hat, and hissing gusts of rice spouted on

the platform. All the men left in Medicine Bow appeared like magic, and more rice choked the atmosphere.

Through the general clamor a cracked voice said, "Don't hit her in the eye, boys!" and Uncle Hughey rushed

proudly by me with an actual wife on his arm. She could easily have been his granddaughter. They got at

once into a vehicle. The trunk was lifted in behind. And amid cheers, rice, shoes, and broad felicitations, the

pair drove out of town, Uncle Hughey shrieking to the horses and the bride waving unabashed adieus.

The word had come over the wires from Laramie: "Uncle Hughey has made it this time. Expect him on

This meal was my last here for a long while. The Virginian's responsibility now returned; duty drove the

Judge's trustworthy man to take care of me again. He had not once sought my society of his own accord; his

distaste for what he supposed me to be (I don't exactly know what this was) remained unshaken. I have

thought that matters of dress and speech should not carry with them so much mistrust in our democracy;

thieves are presumed innocent until proved guilty, but a starched collar is condemned at once. Perfect civility

and obligingness I certainly did receive from the Virginian, only not a word of fellowship. He harnessed the

horses, got my trunk, and gave me some advice about taking provisions for our journey, something more

palatable than what food we should find along the road. It was well thought of, and I bought quite a parcel of

dainties, feeling that he would despise both them and me. And thus I took my seat beside him, wondering

Farewell in those days was not said in Cattle Land. Acquaintances watched our departure with a nod or with

nothing, and the nearest approach to "Goodby" was the proprietor's "Solong." But I caught sight of one

As we drove by the eatinghouse, the shade of a side window was raised, and the landlady looked her last

upon the Virginian. Her lips were faintly parted, and no woman's eyes ever said more plainly, "I am one of

your possessions." She had forgotten that it might be seen. Her glance caught mine, and she backed into the

dimness of the room. What look she may have received from him, if he gave her any at this too public

moment, I could not tell. His eyes seemed to be upon the horses, and he drove with the same mastering ease

that had roped the wild pony yesterday. We passed the ramparts of Medicine Bow,thick heaps and fringes

of tin cans, and shelving mounds of bottles cast out of the saloons. The sun struck these at a hundred

glittering points. And in a moment we were in the clean plains, with the prairiedogs and the pale herds of

antelope. The great, still air bathed us, pure as water and strong as wine; the sunlight flooded the world; and

shining upon the breast of the Virginian's flannel shirt lay a long gold thread of hair! The noisy American

It must have been five miles that we travelled in silence, losing and seeing the horizon among the ceaseless

waves of the earth. Then I looked back, and there was Medicine Bow, seemingly a stone's throw behind us. It

was a full halfhour before I looked back again, and there sure enough was always Medicine Bow. A size or

two smaller, I will admit, but visible in every feature, like something seen through the wrong end of a field

glass. The Eastbound express was approaching the town, and I noticed the white steam from its whistle; but

when the sound reached us, the train had almost stopped. And in reply to my comment upon this, the

"A man come to Arizona," he said, "with one of them telescopes to study the heavenly bodies. He was a

Yankee, seh, and a right smart one, too. And one night we was watchin' for some little old fallin' stars that he

said was due, and I saw some lights movin' along across the mesa pretty lively, an' I sang out. But he told me

it was just the train. And I told him I didn't know yu' could see the cyars that plain from his place, 'Yu' can

see them,' he said to me, 'but it is las' night's cyars you're lookin' at.'" At this point the Virginian spoke

severely to one of the horses. "Of course," he then resumed to me, "that Yankee man did not mean quite all

he said.You, Buck!" he again broke off suddenly to the horse. "But Arizona, seh," he continued, "it cert'nly

has a mos' deceivin' atmospheah. Another man told me he had seen a lady close one eye at him when he was

"What effect," I inquired with a gravity equal to his own, "does this extraordinary foreshortening have upon a

He glanced at me with an eye that held more confidence than hitherto he had been able to feel in me. I had

made one step in his approval. But I had many yet to go. This day he preferred his own thoughts to my

conversation, and so he did all the days of this first journey; while I should have greatly preferred his

conversation to my thoughts. He dismissed some attempts that I made upon the subject of Uncle Hughey so

that I had not the courage to touch upon Trampas, and that chill brief collision which might have struck the

spark of death. Trampas! I had forgotten him till this silent drive I was beginning. I wondered if I should ever

see him, or Steve, or any of those people again. And this wonder I expressed aloud.

"There's no tellin' in this country," said the Virginian. "Folks come easy, and they go easy. In settled places,

like back in the States, even a poor man mostly has a home. Don't care if it's only a barrel on a lot, the fello'

will keep frequentin' that lot, and if yu' want him yu' can find him. But out hyeh in the sagebrush, a man's

home is apt to be his saddle blanket. First thing yu' know, he has moved it to Texas."

But this word closed his mouth. "I have had a look at the country," he said, and we were silent again. Let me,

however, tell you here that he had set out for a "look at the country" at the age of fourteen; and that by his

present age of twentyfour he had seen Arkansas, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Oregon, Idaho,

Montana, and Wyoming. Everywhere he had taken care of himself, and survived; nor had his strong heart yet

waked up to any hunger for a home. Let me also tell you that he was one of thousands drifting and living

Medicine Bow did not forever remain in sight. When next I thought of it and looked behind, nothing was

there but the road we had come; it lay like a ship's wake across the huge ground swell of the earth. We were

swallowed ire a vast solitude. A little while before sunset, a cabin came in view; and here we passed our first

night. Two young men lived here, tending their cattle. They were fond of animals. By the stable a chained

coyote rushed nervously in a circle, or sat on its haunches and snapped at gifts of food ungraciously. A tame

young elk walked in and out of the cabin door, and during supper it tried to push me off my chair. A

halftame mountain sheep practised jumping from the ground to the roof. The cabin was papered with

posters of a circus, and skins of bear and silver fox lay upon the floor. Until nine o'clock one man talked to

the Virginian, and one played gayly upon a concertina; and then we all went to bed. The air was like

December, but in my blankets and a buffalo robe I kept warm, and luxuriated in the Rocky Mountain silence.

Going to wash before breakfast at sunrise, I found needles of ice in a pail. Yet it was hard to remember that

this quiet, open, splendid wilderness (with not a peak in sight just here) was six thousand feet high. And when

breakfast was over there was no December left; and by the time the Virginian and I were ten miles upon our

way, it was June. But always every breath that I breathed was pure as water and strong as wine.

We never passed a human being this day. Some wild cattle rushed up to us and away from us; antelope stared

at us from a hundred yards; coyotes ran skulking through the sagebrush to watch us from a hill; at our noon

meal we killed a rattlesnake and shot some young sage chickens, which were good at supper, roasted at our

By halfpast eight we were asleep beneath the stars, and by halfpast four I was drinking coffee and

shivering. The horse, Buck, was hard to catch this second morning. Whether some hills that we were now in

had excited him, or whether the better water up here had caused an effervescence in his spirits, I cannot say.

But I was as hot as July by the time we had him safe in harness, or, rather, unsafe in harness. For Buck, in the

mysterious language of horses, now taught wickedness to his side partner, and about eleven o'clock they laid

We were passing, I have said, through a range of demimountains. It was a little country where trees grew,

water ran, and the plains were shut out for a while. The road had steep places in it, and places here and there

where you could fall off and go bounding to the bottom among stones. But Buck, for some reason, did not

think these opportunities good enough for him. He selected a more theatrical moment. We emerged from a

narrow canyon suddenly upon five hundred cattle and some cowboys branding calves by a fire in a corral. It

was a sight that Buck knew by heart. He instantly treated it like an appalling phenomenon. I saw him kick

seven ways; I saw Muggins kick five ways; our furious motion snapped my spine like a whip. I grasped the

Help was too far away to do anything for us. We passed scathless through a part of the cattle, I saw their

horns and backs go by. Some earth crumbled, and we plunged downward into water rocking among stones,

and upward again through some more crumbling earth. I heard a crash, and saw my trunk landing in the

"We'll go back for her," said he, with his eye on the horses and his foot on the crippled brake. A dry gully

was coming, and no room to turn. The farther side of it was terraced with rock. We should simply fall

backward, if we did not fall forward first. He steered the horses straight over, and just at the bottom swung

them, with astonishing skill, to the right along the hardbaked mud. They took us along the bed up to the

head of the gully, and through a thicket of quaking asps. The light trees bent beneath our charge and

bastinadoed the wagon as it went over them. But their branches enmeshed the horses' legs, and we came to a

I looked at the trustworthy man, and smiled vaguely. He considered me for a moment.

"I reckon," said he, "you're feelin' about halfway between 'Oh, Lord!' and 'Thank God!'"

"Nothing's broke," said he, after a searching examination. And he indulged in a true Virginian expletive.

"Gentlemen, hush!" he murmured gently, looking at me with his grave eyes; "one time I got pretty near

scared. You, Buck," he continued, "some folks would beat you now till yu'd be uncertain whether yu' was a

I now told him that I supposed he had saved both our lives. But he detested words of direct praise. He made

some grumbling rejoinder, and led the horses out of the thicket. Buck, he explained to me, was a good horse,

and so was Muggins. Both of them generally meant well, and that was the Judge's reason for sending them to

meet me. But these broncos had their off days. Off days might not come very often; but when the humor

seized a bronco, he had to have his spree. Buck would now behave himself as a horse should for probably

Several cowboys arrived on a gallop to find how many pieces of us were left. We returned down the hill;

and when we reached my trunk, it was surprising to see the distance that our runaway had covered. My hat

Buck and Muggins were patterns of discretion through else rest of the mountains. I thought when we camped

this night that it was strange Buck should be again allowed to graze at large, instead of being tied to a rope

while we slept. But this was my ignorance. With the hard work that he was gallantly doing, the horse needed

more pasture than a rope's length would permit him to find. Therefore he went free, and in the morning gave

We crossed a river in the forenoon, and far to the north of us we saw the Bow Leg Mountains, pale in the

bright sun. Sunk Creek flowed from their western side, and our two hundred and sixtythree miles began to

grow a small thing in my eyes. Buck and Muggins, I think, knew perfectly that tomorrow would see them

home. They recognized this region; and once they turned off at a fork in the road. The Virginian pulled them

"Want to go back to Balaam's?" he inquired of them. "I thought you had more sense."

"A maltreater of hawsses," replied the cowpuncher. "His ranch is on Butte Creek oveh yondeh." And he

pointed to where the diverging road melted into space. "The Judge bought Buck and Muggins from him in the

"That's the word all through this country. A man that will do what they claim Balaam does to a hawss when

he's mad, ain't fit to be called human." The Virginian told me some particulars.

"He'd have prob'ly done that to Buck as soon as he stopped runnin' away. If I caught a man doin' that"

We were interrupted by a sedatelooking traveller riding upon an equally sober horse.

"Mawnin', Taylor," said the Virginian, pulling up for gossip. "Ain't you strayed off your range pretty far?"

"You're a nice one!" replied Mr. Taylor, stopping his horse and smiling amiably.

"Hold up a man at cards and rob him," pursued Mr. Taylor. "Oh, the news has got ahead of you!"

"Was that your victim's name?" said Mr. Taylor, facetiously. "No, it wasn't him that brought the news. Say,

"So that thing has got around," murmured the Virginian. "Well, it wasn't worth such wide repawtin'." And he

gave the simple facts to Taylor, while I sat wondering at the contagious powers of Rumor. Here, through this

voiceless land, this desert, this vacuum, it had spread like a change of weather. "Any news up your way?" the

Importance came into Mr. Taylor's countenance. "Bear Creek is going to build a schoolhouse," said he.

Now Mr. Taylor had been married for some years. "To educate the offspring of Bear Creek," he answered

"Offspring of Bear Creek," the Virginian meditatively repeated. "I don't remember noticin' much offspring.

"The Swintons have moved up from Drybone," said Mr. Taylor, always seriously. "They found it no place for

young children. And there's Uncle Carmody with six, and Ben Dow. And Westfall has become a family man,

"Jim Westfall!" exclaimed the Virginian. "Him a fam'ly man! Well, if this hyeh Territory is goin' to get full

"Me! I ain't near reached the marriageable age. No, seh! But Uncle Hughey has got there at last, yu' know."

"Uncle Hughey!" shouted Mr. Taylor. He had not heard this. Rumor is very capricious. Therefore the

"Build your schoolhouse," said the Virginian. "Uncle Hughey has qualified himself to subscribe to all such

"We are taking steps," said Mr. Taylor. "Bear Creek ain't going to be hasty about a schoolmarm."

But Mr. Taylor was, as I have indicated, a serious family man. The problem of educating his children could

appear to him in no light except a sober one. "Bear Creek," he said, "don't want the experience they had over

"Well, we can wait till we get a guaranteed article," said Mr. Taylor. "And that's what we're going to do. It

can't be this year, and it needn't to be. None of the kids is very old, and the schoolhouse has got to be built."

He now drew a letter from his pocket, and looked at me. "Are you acquainted with Miss Mary Stark Wood of

"She's one we are thinking of. She's a correspondent with Mrs. Balaam." Taylor handed me the letter. "She

wrote that to Mrs. Balaam, and Mrs. Balaam said the best thing was for to let me see it and judge for myself.

I'm taking it back to Mrs. Balaam. Maybe you can give me your opinion how it sizes up with the letters they

The communication was mainly of a business kind, but also personal, and freely written. I do not think that

its writer expected it to be exhibited as a document. The writer wished very much that she could see the West.

But she could not gratify this desire merely for pleasure, or she would long ago have accepted the kind

invitation to visit Mrs. Balaam's ranch. Teaching school was something she would like to do, if she were

fitted for it. "Since the mills failed" (the writer said) "we have all gone to work and done a lot of things so

that mother might keep on living in the old house. Yes, the salary would be a temptation. But, my dear, isn't

Wyoming bad for the complexion? And could I sue them if mine got damaged? It is still admired. I could

bring one male witness AT LEAST to prove that!" Then the writer became businesslike again. Even if she

came to feel that she could leave home, she did not at all know that she could teach school. Nor did she think

it right to accept a position in which one had had no experience. "I do love children, boys especially," she

went on. "My small nephew and I get on famously. But imagine if a whole benchful of boys began asking me

questions that I couldn't answer! What should I do? For one could not spank them all, you know! And mother

says that I ought not to teach anybody spelling, because I leave the U out of HONOR."

Altogether it was a letter which I could assure Mr. Taylor "sized up" very well with the letters written in my

part of the United States. And it was signed, "Your very sincere spinster, Molly Stark Wood."

"I never seen HONOR spelled with a U," said Mr. Taylor, over whose not highly civilized head certain

"Either way would satisfy Bear Creek," said Mr. Taylor, "if she's otherwise up to requirements."

The Virginian was now looking over the letter musingly, and with awakened attention.

"I reckon she is about twenty," said the Virginian. And again he fell to musing over the paper that he held.

"Her handwriting ain't like any I've saw," pursued Mr. Taylor. "But Bear Creek would not object to that,

"I expect she is not an awful sincere spinster," surmised the Virginian, still looking at the letter, still holding

Has any botanist set down what the seed of love is? Has it anywhere been set down in how many ways this

seed may be sown? In what various vessels of gossamer it can float across wide spaces? Or upon what

The Virginian handed back to Taylor the sheet of note paper where a girl had talked as the women he had

known did not talk. If his eyes had ever seen such maidens, there had been no meeting of eyes; and if such

maidens had ever spoken to him, the speech was from an established distance. But here was a free language,

altogether new to him. It proved, however, not alien to his understanding, as it was alien to Mr. Taylor's.

We drove onward, a mile perhaps, and then two. He had lately been full of words, but now he barely

answered me, so that a silence fell upon both of us. It must have been all of ten miles that we had driven

"Your real spinster don't speak of her lot that easy," he remarked. And presently he quoted a phrase about the

complexion, "Could I sue them if mine got damaged?"' and he smiled over this to himself, shaking his head.

"What would she be doing on Bear Creek?" he next said. And finally: "I reckon that witness will detain her in

Thus did the cowpuncher deliver himself, not knowing at all that the seed had floated across wide spaces,

On the morrow we reached Sunk Creek. Judge Henry's welcome and his wife's would have obliterated any

For a while I saw little of the Virginian. He lapsed into his native way of addressing me occasionally as

"seh"a habit entirely repudiated by this land of equality. I was sorry. Our common peril during the

runaway of Buck and Muggins had brought us to a familiarity that I hoped was destined to last. But I think

that it would not have gone farther, save for a certain personageI must call her a personage. And as I am

indebted to her for gaining me a friend whose prejudice against me might never have been otherwise

overcome, I shall tell you her little story, and how her misadventures and her fate came to bring the Virginian

and me to an appreciation of one another. Without her, it is likely I should also not have heard so much of the

Judge Henry's ranch was notable for several luxuries. He had milk, for example. In those days his brother

ranchmen had thousands of cattle very often, but not a drop of milk, save the condensed variety. Therefore

they had no butter. The Judge had plenty. Next rarest to butter and milk in the cattle country were eggs. But

my host had chickens. Whether this was because he had followed cockfighting in his early days, or whether

it was due to Mrs. Henry, I cannot say. I only know that when I took a meal elsewhere, I was likely to find

nothing but the eternal "sowbelly," beans, and coffee; while at Sunk Creek the omelet and the custard were

frequent. The passing traveller was glad to tie his horse to the fence here, and sit down to the Judge's table.

For its fame was as wide as Wyoming. It was an oasis in the Territory's desolate billoffare.

The long fences of Judge Henry's home ranch began upon Sunk Creek soon after that stream emerged from

its canyon through the Bow Leg. It was a place always well cared for by the owner, even in the days of his

bachelorhood. The placid regiments of cattle lay in the cool of the cottonwoods by the water, or slowly

moved among the sagebrush, feeding upon the grass that in those forever departed years was plentiful and

tall. The steers came fat off his unenclosed range and fattened still more in his large pasture; while his small

pasture, a field some eight miles square, was for several seasons given to the Judge's horses, and over this

ample space there played and prospered the good colts which he raised from Paladin, his imported stallion.

After he married, I have been assured that his wife's influence became visible in and about the house at once.

Shade trees were planted, flowers attempted, and to the chickens was added the much more troublesome

turkey. I, the visitor, was pressed into service when I arrived, green from the East. I took hold of the farmyard

and began building a better chicken house, while the Judge was off creating meadow land in his gray and

yellow wilderness. When any cowboy was unoccupied, he would lounge over to my neighborhood, and

Those cowpunchers bore names of various denominations. There was Honey Wiggin; there was Nebrasky,

and Dollar Bill, and Chalkeye. And they came from farms and cities, from Maine and from California. But

the romance of American adventure had drawn them all alike to this great playground of young men, and in

their courage, their generosity, and their amusement at me they bore a close resemblance to each other. Each

one would silently observe my achievements with the hammer and the chisel. Then he would retire to the

bunkhouse, and presently I would over hear laughter. But this was only in the morning. In the afternoon on

many days of the summer which I spent at the Sunk Creek Ranch I would go shooting, or ride up toward the

entrance of the canyon and watch the men working on the irrigation ditches. Pleasant systems of water

running in channels were being led through the soil, and there was a sound of rippling here and there among

the yellow grain; the green thick alfalfa grass waved almost, it seemed, of its own accord, for the wind never

blew; and when at evening the sun lay against the plain, the rift of the canyon was filled with a violet light,

and the Bow Leg Mountains became transfigured with hues of floating and unimaginable color. The sun

shone in a sky where never a cloud came, and noon was not too warm nor the dark too cool. And so for two

months I went through these pleasant uneventful days, improving the chickens, an object of mirth, living in

I was justly styled a tenderfoot. Mrs. Henry had in the beginning endeavored to shield me from this

humiliation; but when she found that I was inveterate in laying my inexperience of Western matters bare to

all the world, begging to be enlightened upon rattlesnakes, prairiedogs, owls, blue and willow grouse,

sagehens, how to rope a horse or tighten the front cinch of my saddle, and that my spirit soared into

enthusiasm at the mere sight of so ordinary an animal as a whitetailed deer, she let me rush about with my

firearms and made no further effort to stave off the ridicule that my blunders perpetually earned from the

ranch hands, her own humorous husband, and any chance visitor who stopped for a meal or stayed the night.

I was not called by my name after the first feeble etiquette due to a stranger in his first few hours had died

away. I was known simply as "the tenderfoot." I was introduced to the neighborhood (a circle of eighty miles)

as "the tenderfoot." It was thus that Balaam, the maltreater of horses, learned to address me when he came a

two days' journey to pay a visit. And it was this name and my notorious helplessness that bid fair to end what

relations I had with the Virginian. For when Judge Henry ascertained that nothing could prevent me from

losing myself, that it was not uncommon for me to saunter out after breakfast with a gun and in thirty minutes

cease to know north from south, he arranged for my protection. He detailed an escort for me; and the escort

was once more the trustworthy man! The poor Virginian was taken from his work and his comrades and set to

playing nurse for me. And for a while this humiliation ate into his untamed soul. It was his lugubrious lot to

accompany me in my rambles, preside over my blunders, and save me from calamitously passing into the

next world. He bore it in courteous silence, except when sneaking was necessary. He would show me the

lower ford, which I could never find for myself, generally mistaking a quicksand for it. He would tie my

horse properly. He would recommend me not to shoot my rifle at a whitetailed deer in the particular

moment that the outfit wagon was passing behind the animal on the further side of the brush. There was

seldom a day that he was not obliged to hasten and save me from sudden death or from ridicule, which is

worse. Yet never once did he lose his patience and his gentle, slow voice, and apparently lazy manner

remained the same, whether we were sitting at lunch together, or up in the mountain during a hunt, or

whether he was bringing me back my horse, which had run away because I had again forgotten to throw the

"He'll always stand if yu' do that," the Virginian would say. "See how my hawss stays right quiet yondeh."

After such admonition he would say no more to me. But this tame nursery business was assuredly gall to him.

For though utterly a man in countenance and in his selfpossession and incapacity to be put at a loss, he was

still boyishly, proud of his wild calling, and wore his leathers straps and jingled his spurs with obvious

pleasure. His tiger limberness and his beauty were rich with unabated youth; and that force which lurked

beneath his surface must often have curbed his intolerance of me. In spite of what I knew must be his opinion

of me, the tenderfoot, my liking for him grew, and I found his silent company more and more agreeable. That

he had spells of talking, I had already learned at Medicine Bow. But his present taciturnity might almost have

effaced this impression, had I not happened to pass by the bunkhouse one evening after dark, when Honey

That afternoon the Virginian and I had gone duck shooting. We had found several in a beaver dam, and I had

killed two as they sat close together; but they floated against the breastwork of sticks out in the water some

four feet deep, where the escaping current might carry them down the stream. The Judge's red setter had not

"We don't want her along anyways," the cowpuncher had explained to me. "She runs around mighty

irresponsible, and she'll stand a prairiedog 'bout as often as she'll stand a bird. She's a triflin' animal."

My anxiety to own the ducks caused me to pitch into the water with all my clothes on, and subsequently

crawl out a slippery, triumphant, weltering heap. The Virginian's serious eyes had rested upon this spectacle

"They ain't overly good eatin'," he observed, tying the birds to his saddle. "They're divers."

"Well," I said, crestfallen, but attempting to be humorous, "I did the diving myself."

But the Virginian made no comment. He handed me my doublebarrelled English gun, which I was about to

leave deserted on the ground behind me, and we rode home in our usual silence, the mean little

It was in the bunkhouse that he took his revenge. As I passed I heard his gentle voice silently achieving

some narrative to an attentive audience, and just as I came by the open window where he sat on his bed in

shirt and drawers, his back to me, I heard his concluding words, "And the hat on his haid was the one mark

The anecdote met with instantaneous success, and I hurried away into the dark. The next morning I was

occupied with the chickens. Two hens were fighting to sit on some eggs that a third was daily laying, and

which I did not want hatched, and for the third time I had kicked Em'ly off seven potatoes she had rolled

together and was determined to raise I know not what sort of family from. She was shrieking about the

henhouse as the Virginian came in to observe (I suspect) what I might be doing now that could be useful for

He stood awhile, and at length said, "We lost our best rooster when Mrs. Henry came to live hyeh."

I felt a little ruled about the snappingturtle, and showed no interest in what he was saying, but continued my

functions among the hens. This unusual silence of mine seemed to elicit unusual speech from him.

"Yu' see, that rooster he'd always lived round hyeh when the Judge was a bachelor, and he never seen no

"Yu' seemed sort o' grave this mawnin', and I'm cert'nly glad it ain't them divers."

"Oh, him! He weren't raised where he could see petticoats. Mrs. Henry she come hyeh from the railroad with

the Judge afteh dark. Next mawnin' early she walked out to view her new home, and the rooster was afeedin'

by the door, and he seen her. Well, seh, he screeched that awful I run out of the bunkhouse; and he jus' went

over the fence and took down Sunk Creek shoutin' fire, right along. He has never come back."

"There's a hen over there now that has no judgment," I said, indicating Em'ly. She had got herself outside the

house, and was on the bars of a corral, her vociferations reduced to an occasional squawk. I told him about

"I never knowed her name before," said he. "That runaway rooster, he hated her. And she hated him same as

"I named her myself," said I, "after I came to notice her particularly. There's an old maid at home who's

charitable, and belongs to the Cruelty to Animals, and she never knows whether she had better cross in front

"She's sure manlylookin'," said the Virginian. We had walked toward the corral, and he was now

She was an egregious fowl. She was huge and gaunt, with great yellow beak, and she stood straight and alert

in the manner of responsible people. There was something wrong with her tail. It slanted far to one side, one

feather in it twice as long as the rest. Feathers on her breast there were none. These had been worn entirely

off by her habit of sitting upon potatoes and other rough abnormal objects. And this lent to her appearance an

air of being decollete, singularly at variance with her otherwise prudish ensemble. Her eye was remarkably

bright, but somehow it had an outraged expression. It was as if she went about the world perpetually

scandalized over the doings that fell beneath her notice. Her legs were blue, long, and remarkably stout.

"She'd ought to wear knickerbockers," murmured the Virginian. "She'd look a heap better 'n some o' them

"She thinks she can hatch out anything. I've found her with onions, and last Tuesday I caught her on two balls

After an hour, during which he was completely taciturn, he said: "I reckon maybe this hyeh lonesome country

ain't been healthy for Em'ly to live in. It ain't for some humans. Them old trappers in the mountains gets

skewed in the haid mighty often, an' talks out loud when nobody's nigher 'n a hundred miles."

He fell silent again, riding beside me, easy and indolent in the saddle. His long figure looked so loose and

inert that the swift, light spring he made to the ground seemed an impossible feat. He had seen an antelope

"Take a shot yourself," I urged him, as he motioned me to be quick. "You never shoot when I'm with you."

"Why," he said to my protest, "I can hit them things any day. What's your notion as to Em'ly?"

"Well," he said musingly, and then his mind took one of those particular turns that made me love him,

He gave a hilarious chuckle. "No, Em'ly knows nothing o' them joys. So yu' have no notion about her? Well,

"Yes. Don't yu' know about them, and what they'll do to aiggs? A big case o' lightnin' and thunder will addle

aiggs and keep 'em from hatchin'. And I expect one came along, and all the other aiggs of Em'ly's set didn't

hatch out, but got plumb addled, and she happened not to get addled that far, and so she just managed to

make it through. But she cert'nly ain't got a strong haid.""I fear she has not," said I.

"Mighty hon'ble intentions," he observed. "If she can't make out to lay anything, she wants to hatch

"I wonder what relation the law considers that a hen is to the chicken she hatched but did not lay?" I inquired.

The Virginian made no reply to this frivolous suggestion. He was gazing over the wide landscape gravely and

with apparent inattention. He invariably saw game before I did, and was off his horse and crouched among

the sage while I was still getting my left foot clear of the stirrup. I succeeded in killing an antelope, and we

"No." said he. "It's sure the thunder, and not the lonesomeness. How do yu' like the lonesomeness yourself?"

"I could not live without it now," he said. "This has got into my system." He swept his hand out at the vast

space of world. "I went back home to see my folks onced. Mother was dyin' slow, and she wanted me. I

stayed a year. But them Virginia mountains could please me no more. Afteh she was gone, I told my brothers

and sisters goodby. We like each other well enough, but I reckon I'll not go back."

We found Em'ly seated upon a collection of green California peaches, which the Judge had brought from the

"I've been sorry for her right along," said the Virginian. "She does hate the roosters so." And he said that he

was making a collection of every class of object which he found her treating as eggs.

But Em'ly's eggindustry was terminated abruptly one morning, and her unquestioned energies diverted to a

new channel. A turkey which had been sitting in the roothouse appeared with twelve children, and a family

of bantams occurred almost simultaneously. Em'ly was importantly scratching the soil inside Paladin's corral

when the bantam tribe of newly born came by down the lane, and she caught sight of them through the bars.

She crossed the corral at a run, and intercepted two of the chicks that were trailing somewhat behind their real

mamma. These she undertook to appropriate, and assumed a high tone with the bantam, who was the smaller,

and hence obliged to retreat with her still numerous family. I interfered, and put matters straight; but the

adjustment was only temporary. In an hour I saw Em']y immensely busy with two more bantams, leading

them about and taking a care of them which I must admit seemed perfectly efficient.

She had proceeded with her changelings behind the kitchen, where one of the irrigation ditches ran under the

fence from the hayfield to supply the house with water. Some distance along this ditch inside the field were

the twelve turkeys in the short, recently cut stubble. Again Em'ly set off instantly like a deer. She left the

dismayed bantams behind her. She crossed the ditch with one jump of her stout blue legs, flew over the grass,

and was at once among the turkeys, where, with an instinct of maternity as undiscriminating as it was

reckless, she attempted to huddle some of them away. But this other mamma was not a bantam, and in a few

moments Em'ly was entirely routed in her attempt to acquire a new variety of family.

This spectacle was witnessed by the Virginian and myself, and it overcame him. He went speechless across to

the bunkhouse, by himself, and sat on his bed, while I took the abandoned bantams back to their own circle.

I have often wondered what the other fowls thought of all this. Some impression it certainly did make upon

them. The notion may seem out of reason to those who have never closely attended to other animals than

man; but I am convinced that any community which shares some of our instincts will share some of the

resulting feelings, and that birds and beasts have conventions, the breach of which startles them. If there be

anything in evolution, this would seem inevitable; At all events, the chickenhouse was upset during the

following several days. Em'ly disturbed now the bantams and now the turkeys, and several of these latter had

died, though I will not go so far as to say that this was the result of her misplaced attentions. Nevertheless, I

was seriously thinking of locking her up till the broods should be a little older, when another event happened,

The Judge's setter came in one morning, wagging her tail. She had had her puppies, and she now took us to

where they were housed, in between the floor of a building and the hollow ground. Em'ly was seated on the

In her new choice of offspring, this hen had at length encountered an unworthy parent. The setter was bored

by her own puppies. She found the hole under the house an obscure and monotonous residence compared

with the dining room, and our company more stimulating and sympathetic than that of her children. A

muchpetted contact with our superior race had developed her dog intelligence above its natural level, and

turned her into an unnatural, neglectful mother, who was constantly forgetting her nursery for worldly

At certain periods of the day she repaired to the puppies and fed them, but came away when this perfunctory

ceremony was accomplished; and she was glad enough to have a governess bring them up. She made no

quarrel with Em'ly, and the two understood each other perfectly. I have never seen among animals any

arrangement so civilized and so perverted. It made Em'ly perfectly happy. To see her sitting all day jealously

spreading her wings over some blind puppies was sufficiently curious; but when they became large enough to

come out from under the house and toddle about in the proud hen's wake, I longed for some distinguished

naturalist. I felt that our ignorance made us inappropriate spectators of such a phenomenon. Em'ly scratched

and clucked, and the puppies ran to her, pawed her with their fat limp little legs, and retreated beneath her

feathers in their games of hide and seek. Conceive, if you can, what confusion must have reigned in their

When the puppies grew to be boisterous, I perceived that Em'ly's mission was approaching its end. They were

too heavy for her, and their increasing scope of playfulness was not in her line. Once or twice they knocked

her over, upon which she arose and pecked them severely, and they retired to a safe distance, and sitting in a

circle, yapped at her. I think they began to suspect that she was only a hen after all. So Em'ly resigned with an

indifference which surprised me, until I remembered that if it had been chickens, she would have ceased to

"She's raised them puppies for that triflin' setter, and now she'll be huntin' around for something else useful to

Now there were other broods of chickens to arrive in the henhouse, and I did not desire any more bantam

and turkey performances. So, to avoid confusion, I played a trick upon Em'ly. I went down to Sunk Creek and

fetched some smooth, oval stones. She was quite satisfied with these, and passed a quiet day with them in a

"Why, she raised them puppies all right. Ain't she showed she knows how to be a mother anyways? Em'ly

ain't going to get her time took up for nothing while I'm round hyeh," said the cowpuncher.

He laid a gentle hold of Em'ly and tossed her to the ground. She, of course, rushed out among the corrals in a

To this he deigned no reply, but removed the unresponsive stones from the straw.

"Why, if they ain't right warm!" he exclaimed plaintively. "The poor, deluded sonofagun!" And with this

unusual description of a lady, he sent the stones sailing like a line of birds. "I'm regular getting stuck on

Em'ly," continued the Virginian. "Yu' needn't to laugh. Don't yu' see she's got sort o' human feelin's and

desires? I always knowed hawsses was like people, and my collie, of course. It is kind of foolish, I expect, but

that hen's goin' to have a real aigg directly, right now, to set on." With this he removed one from beneath

another hen. "We'll have Em'ly raise this hyeh," said he, "so she can put in her time profitable."

It was not accomplished at once; for Em'ly, singularly enough, would not consent to stay in the box whence

she had been routed. At length we found another retreat for her, and in these new surroundings, with a new

piece of work for her to do, Em'ly sat on the one egg which the Virginian had so carefully provided for her.

Thus, as in all genuine tragedies, was the stroke of Fate wrought by chance and the best intentions.

Em'ly began sitting on Friday afternoon near sundown. Early next morning my sleep was gradually dispersed

by a sound unearthly and continuous. Now it dwindled, receding to a distance; again it came near, took a turn,

drifted to the other side of the house; then, evidently, whatever it was, passed my door close, and I jumped

upright in my bed. The high, tense strain of vibration, nearly, but not quite, a musical note, was like the

threatening scream of machinery, though weaker, and I bounded out of the house in my pajamas.

There was Em'ly, dishevelled, walking wildly about, her one egg miraculously hatched within ten hours. The

little lonely yellow ball of down went cheeping along behind, following its mother as best it could. What,

then, had happened to the established period of incubation? For an instant the thing was like a portent, and I

was near joining Em'ly in her horrid surprise, when I saw how it all was. The Virginian had taken an egg

I dressed in haste, hearing Em'ly's distracted outcry. It steadily sounded, without perceptible pause for breath,

and marked her erratic journey back and forth through stables, lanes, and corrals. The shrill disturbance

brought all of us out to see her, and in the henhouse I discovered the new brood making its appearance

But this natural explanation could not be made to the crazed hen. She continued to scour the premises, her

slant tail and its one preposterous feather waving as she aimlessly went, her stout legs stepping high with an

unnatural motion, her head lifted nearly off her neck, and in her brilliant yellow eye an expression of more

than outrage at this overturning of a natural law. Behind her, entirely ignored and neglected, trailed the little

progeny. She never looked at it. We went about our various affairs, and all through the clear, sunny day that

unending metallic scream pervaded the premises. The Virginian put out food and water for her, but she tasted

nothing. I am glad to say that the little chicken did. I do not think that the hen's eyes could see, except in the

The heat went out of the air, and in the canyon the violet light began to show. Many hours had gone, but

Em'ly never ceased. Now she suddenly flew up in a tree and sat there with her noise still going; but it had

risen lately several notes into a slim, acute level of terror, and was not like machinery any more, nor like any

sound I ever heard before or since. Below the tree stood the bewildered little chicken, cheeping, and making

"Yes," said the Virginian, "it's comical. Even her aigg acted different from anybody else's." He paused, and

looked across the wide, mellowing plain with the expression of easygoing gravity so common with him.

We went in to supper, and I came out to find the hen lying on the ground, dead. I took the chicken to the

No, it was not altogether funny any more. And I did not think less of the Virginian when I came upon him

"I have buried some citizens here and there, said he, "that I have respected less."

And when the time came for me to leave Sunk Creek, my last word to the Virginian was, "Don't forget

"I ain't likely to," responded the cowpuncher. "She is just one o' them parables."

Save when he fell into his native idioms (which, they told me, his wanderings had wellnigh obliterated until

that year's visit to his home again revived them in his speech), he had now for a long while dropped the "seh,"

and all other barriers between us. We were thorough friends, and had exchanged many confidences both of

the flesh and of the spirit. He even went the length of saying that he would write me the Sunk Creek news if I

would send him a line now and then. I have many letters from him now. Their spelling came to be faultless,

The Judge himself drove me to the railroad by another wayacross the Bow Leg Mountains, and south

"Come and pull the latchstring whenever you please, he bade me. I wished that I might! No lotus land ever

"Dear Friend [thus in the spring the Virginian wrote me], Yours received. It must be a poor thing to be sick.

That time I was shot at Canada de Oro would have made me sick if it had been a littel lower or if I was much

of a drinking man. You will be well if you give over city life and take a hunt with me about August or say

"Things do not please me here just now and I am going to settel it by vamosing. But I would be glad to see

you. It would be pleasure not business for me to show you plenty elk and get you strong. I am not crybabying

to the Judge or making any kick about things. He will want me back after he has swallowed a litter tincture of

"Now to answer your questions. Yes the Emmily hen might have ate loco weed if hens do. I never saw

anything but stock and horses get poisoned with loco weed. No the school is not built yet. They are always

big talkers on Bear Creek. No I have not seen Steve. He is around but I am sorry for him. Yes I have been to

Medicine Bow. I had the welcom I wanted. Do you remember a man I played poker and he did not like it? He

is working on the upper ranch near Ten Sleep. He does not amount to a thing except with weaklings. Uncle

Hewie has twins. The boys got him vexed some about it, but I think they are his. Now that is all I know

today and I would like to see you poco presently as they say at Los Cruces. There's no sense in you being

The rest of this letter discussed the best meeting point for us should I decide to join him for a hunt.

That hunt was made, and during the weeks of its duration something was said to explain a little more fully the

Virginian's difficulty at the Sunk Creek Ranch, and his reason for leaving his excellent employer the Judge.

Not much was said, to be sure; the Virginian seldom spent many words upon his own troubles. But it

appeared that owing to some jealousy of him on the part of the foreman, or the assistant foreman, he found

himself continually doing another man's work, but under circumstances so skilfully arranged that he got

neither credit nor pay for it. He would not stoop to telling tales out of school. Therefore his ready and

prophetic mind devised the simple expedient of going away altogether. He calculated that Judge Henry would

gradually perceive there was a connection between his departure and the cessation of the satisfactory work.

After a judicious interval it was his plan to appear again in the neighborhood of Sunk Creek and await results.

Concerning Steve he would say no more than he had written. But it was plain that for some cause this

Money for his services during the hunt he positively declined to accept, asserting that he had not worked

enough to earn his board. And the expedition ended in an untravelled corner of the Yellowstone Park, near

Pitchstone Canyon, where he and young Lin McLean and others were witnesses of a sad and terrible drama

His prophetic mind had foreseen correctly the shape of events at Sunk Creek. The only thing that it had not

Toward the close of that winter, Judge and Mrs. Henry visited the East. Through them a number of things

"And," said Mrs. Henry, "he would never have left you if I had had my way, Judge H.!"

"No, Madam Judge," retorted her husband; "I am aware of that. For you have always appreciated a fine

"I certainly have," confessed the lady, mirthfully. "And the way he used to come bringing my horse, with the

ridges of his black hair so carefully brushed and that blue spotted handkerchief tied so effectively round his

"Thank you, my dear, for this warning. I have plans that will keep him absent quite constantly for the future."

And then they spoke less flightily. "I always knew," said the lady, "that you had found a treasure when that

The Judge laughed. "When it dawned on me," he said, "how cleverly he caused me to learn the value of his

services by depriving me of them, I doubted whether it was safe to take him back."

"Safe, my dear. Because I'm afraid he is pretty nearly as shrewd as I am. And that's rather dangerous in a

subordinate." The Judge laughed again. "But his action regarding the man they call Steve has made me feel

And then it came out that the Virginian was supposed to have discovered in some way that Steve had fallen

from the grace of that particular honesty which respects another man's cattle. It was not known for certain.

But calves had begun to disappear in Cattle Land, and cows had been found killed. And calves with one

brand upon them had been found with mothers that bore the brand of another owner. This industry was taking

root in Cattle Land, and of those who practised it, some were beginning to be suspected. Steve was not quite

fully suspected yet. But that the Virginian had parted company with him was definitely known. And neither

There was the further news that the Bear Creek schoolhouse at length stood complete, floor, walls, and roof;

and that a lady from Bennington, Vermont, a friend of Mrs. Balaam's, had quite suddenly decided that she

The Judge and Mrs. Henry knew this because Mrs. Balaam had told them of her disappointment that she

would be absent from the ranch on Butte Creek when her friend arrived, and therefore unable to entertain her.

The friend's decision had been quite suddenly made, and must form the subject of the next chapter.

I do not know with which of the two estimatesMr. Taylor's or the Virginian'syou agreed. Did you think

that Miss Mary Stark Wood of Bennington, Vermont, was forty years of age? That would have been an error.

At the time she wrote the letter to Mrs. Balaam, of which letter certain portions have been quoted in these

pages, she was in her twentyfirst year; or, to be more precise, she had been twenty some eight months

Now, it is not usual for young ladies of twenty to contemplate a journey of nearly two thousand miles to a

country where Indians and wild animals live unchained, unless they are to make such journey in company

with a protector, or are going to a protector's arms at the other end. Nor is school teaching on Bear Creek a

First, there was her descent. Had she so wished, she could have belonged to any number of those patriotic

societies of which our American ears have grown accustomed to hear so much. She could have been enrolled

in the Boston Tea Party, the Ethan Allen Ticonderogas, the Green Mountain Daughters, the Saratoga Sacred

Circle, and the Confederated Colonial Chatelaines. She traced direct descent from the historic lady whose

name she bore, that Molly Stark who was not a widow after the battle where her lord, her Captain John,

battled so bravely as to send his name thrilling down through the blood of generations of schoolboys. This

ancestress was her chief claim to be a member of those shining societies which I have enumerated. But she

had been willing to join none of them, although invitations to do so were by no means lacking. I cannot tell

you her reason. Still, I can tell you this. When these societies were much spoken of in her presence, her very

sprightly countenance became more sprightly, and she added her words of praise or respect to the general

chorus. But when she received an invitation to join one of these bodies, her countenance, as she read the

missive, would assume an expression which was known to her friends as " slicking her nose in the air." I do

not think that Molly's reason for refusing to join could have been a truly good one. I should add that her most

precious possessiona treasure which accompanied her even if she went away for only one night's

absencewas an heirloom, a little miniature portrait of the old Molly Stark, painted when that faroff dame

must have been scarce more than twenty. And when each summer the young Molly went to Dunbarton, New

Hampshire, to pay her established family visit to the last survivors of her connection who bore the name of

Stark, no word that she heard in the Dunbarton houses pleased her so much as when a certain greataunt

would take her by the hand, and, after looking with fond intentness at her, pronounce: "My dear, you're

"Nonsense, child. You have the family length of nose, and I've never heard that it has disgraced us."

"There now, run to your room, and dress for tea. The Starks have always been punctual."

And after this annual conversation, Molly would run to her room, and there in its privacy, even at the risk of

falling below the punctuality of the Starks, she would consult two objects for quite a minute before she began

to dress. These objects, as you have already correctly guessed, were the miniature of the General's wife and

The second reason why she was not a usual girl was her character. This character was the result of pride and

Just one year before she was to be presented to the worldnot the great metropolitan world, but a world that

would have made her welcome and done her homage at its little dances and little dinners in Troy and Rutland

and Burlingtonfortune had turned her back upon the Woods. Their possessions had never been great ones;

but they had sufficed. From generation to generation the family had gone to school like gentlefolk, dressed

like gentlefolk, used the speech and ways of gentlefolk, and as gentlefolk lived and died. And now the mills

Instead of thinking about her first evening dress, Molly found pupils to whom she could give music lessons.

She found handkerchiefs that she could embroider with initials. And she found fruit that she could make into

preserves. That machine called the typewriter was then in existence, but the day of women typewriters had as

yet scarcely begun to dawn, else I think Molly would have preferred this occupation to the handkerchiefs and

There were people in Bennington who "wondered how Miss Wood could go about from house to house

teaching the piano, and she a lady." There always have been such people, I suppose, because the world must

always have a rubbish heap. But we need not dwell upon them further than to mention one other remark of

theirs regarding Molly. They all with one voice declared that Sam Bannett was good enough for anybody

"I dare say he had a greatgrandmother quite as good as hers," remarked Mrs. Flynt, the wife of the Baptist

"That's entirely possible," returned the Episcopal rector of Hoosic, "only we don't happen to know who she

was." The rector was a friend of Molly's. After this little observation, Mrs. Flynt said no more, but continued

her purchases in the store where she and the rector had happened to find themselves together. Later she stated

to a friend that she had always thought the Episcopal Church a snobbish one, and now she knew it.

So public opinion went on being indignant over Molly's conduct. She could stoop to work for money, and yet

she pretended to hold herself above the most rising young man in Hoosic Falls, and all just because there was

Was this the reason at the bottom of it? The very bottom? I cannot be certain, because I have never been a girl

myself. Perhaps she thought that work is not a stooping, and that marriage may be. Perhaps But all I really

know is that Molly Wood continued cheerfully to embroider the handkerchiefs, make the preserves, teach the

Thus it went on until she was twenty. There certain members of her family began to tell her how rich Sam

was going to bewas, indeed, already. It was at this time that she wrote Mrs. Balaam her doubts and her

desires as to migrating to Bear Creek. It was at this time also that her face grew a little paler, and her friends

thought that she was overworked, and Mrs. Flynt feared she was losing her looks. It was at this time, too, that

she grew very intimate with that greataunt over at Dunbarton, and from her received much comfort and

"Never!" said the old lady again. "When I die, you'll have somethingand that will not be long now."

Molly flung her arms around her aunt, and stopped her words with a kiss. And then one winter afternoon, two

The front door of the old house had shut. Out of it had stepped the persistent suitor. Mrs. Flynt watched him

"That girl is a fool!" she said furiously; and she came away from her bedroom window where she had posted

Inside the old house a door had also shut. This was the door of Molly's own room. And there she sat, in

floods of tears. For she could not bear to hurt a man who loved her with all the power of love that was in him.

The next day Miss Wood had become very hard. In three weeks she had accepted the position on Bear Creek.

On a Monday noon a small company of horsemen strung out along the trail from Sunk Creek to gather cattle

over their allotted sweep of range. Spring was backward, and they, as they rode galloping and gathering upon

the cold week's work, cursed cheerily and occasionally sang. The Virginian was grave in bearing and of

infrequent speech; but he kept a song goinga matter of some seventynine verses. Seventyeight were

quite unprintable, and rejoiced his brother cowpunchers monstrously. They, knowing him to be a singular

man, forebore ever to press him, and awaited his own humor, lest he should weary of the lyric; and when

after a day of silence apparently saturnine, he would lift his gentle voice and begin:

"If you go to monkey with my Looloo girl, I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll cyarve your heart with my razor, AND

then they would stridently take up each last line, and keep it going three, four, ten times, and kick holes in the

By the levels of Bear Creek that reach like inlets among the promontories of the lonely hills, they came upon

the schoolhouse, roofed and ready for the first native Wyoming crop. It symbolized the dawn of a

neighborhood, and it brought a change into the wilderness air. The feel of it struck cold upon the free spirits

of the cowpunchers, and they told each other that, what with women and children and wire fences, this

country would not long be a country for men. They stopped for a meal at an old comrade's. They looked over

"Pickin' nosegays?" inquired the Virginian and the old comrade asked if they could not recognize potatoes

except in the dish. But he grinned sheepishly at them, too, because they knew that he had not always lived in

a garden. Then he took them into his house, where they saw an object crawling on the floor with a handful of

sulphur matches. He began to remove the matches, but stopped in alarm at the vociferous result; and his wife

When she beheld the matches she was aghast but when she saw her baby grow quiet in the arms of the

Then the Virginian slowly spoke again:"How many little strangers have yu' got, James?

"My! Ain't it most three years since yu' maried? Yu' mustn't let time creep ahaid o' yu', James.

The father once more grinned at his guests, who themselves turned sheepish and polite; for Mrs. Westfall

came in, brisk and hearty, and set the meat upon the table. After that, it was she who talked. The guests ate

scrupulously, muttering, "Yes, ma'am," and "No, ma'am," in their plates, while their hostess told them of

increasing families upon Bear Creek, and the expected schoolteacher, and little Alfred's early teething, and

how it was time for all of them to become husbands like James. The bachelors of the saddle listened, always

diffident, but eating heartily to the end; and soon after they rode away in a thoughtful clump. The wives of

Bear Creek were few as yet, and the homes scattered; the schoolhouse was only a sprig on the vast face of a

world of elk and bear and uncertain Indians; but that night, when the earth near the fire was littered with the

cowpunchers' beds, the Virginian was heard drawling to himself: "Alfred and Christopher. Oh, sugar!"

They found pleasure in the delicately chosen shade of this oath. He also recited to them a new verse about

how he took his Looloo girl to the schoolhouse for to learn her A B C; and as it was quite original and

unprintable, the camp laughed and swore joyfully, and rolled in its blankets to sleep under the stars.

Upon a Monday noon likewise (for things will happen so) some tearful people in petticoats waved

handkerchiefs at a train that was just leaving Bennington, Vermont. A girl's face smiled back at them once,

She had with her a little money, a few clothes, and in her mind a rigid determination neither to be a burden to

her mother nor to give in to that mother's desires. Absence alone would enable her to carry out this

determination. Beyond these things, she possessed not much except spellingbooks, a colonial miniature, and

that craving for the unknown which has been mentioned. If the ancestors that we carry shut up inside us take

turns in dictating to us our actions and our state of mind, undoubtedly Grandmother Stark was empress of

At Hoosic Junction, which came soon, she passed the uptrain bound back to her home, and seeing the

engineer and the conductor,faces that she knew well,her courage nearly failed her, and she shut her eyes

against this glimpse of the familiar things that she was leaving. To keep herself steady she gripped tightly a

But something caused her eyes to open; and there before her stood Sam Bannett, asking if he might

"No!" she told him with a severity born from the struggle she was making with her grief. "Not a mile with

And Samwhat did he do? He obeyed her, I should like to be sorry for him. But obedience was not a lover's

part here. He hesitated, the golden moment hung hovering, the conductor cried "All aboard!" the train went,

and there on the platform stood obedient Sam, with his golden moment gone like a butterfly.

After Rotterdam Junction, which was some forty minutes farther, Molly Wood sat bravely up in the through

car, dwelling upon the unknown. She thought that she had attained it in Ohio, on Tuesday morning, and wrote

a letter about it to Bennington. On Wednesday afternoon she felt sure, and wrote a letter much more

picturesque. But on the following day, after breakfast at North Platte, Nebraska, she wrote a very long letter

indeed, and told them that she had seen a black pig on a white pile of buffalo bones, catching drops of water

in the air as they fell from the railroad tank. She also wrote that trees were extraordinarily scarce. Each hour

westward from the pig confirmed this opinion, and when she left the train at Rock Creek, late upon that

fourth night,in those days the trains were slower,she knew that she had really attained the unknown, and

At six in the morning the stage drove away into the sagebrush, with her as its only passenger; and by

sundown she had passed through some of the primitive perils of the world. The second team, virgin to

harness, and displeased with this novelty, tried to take it off, and went down to the bottom of a gully on its

eight hind legs, while Miss Wood sat mute and unflinching beside the driver. Therefore he, when it was over,

and they on the proper road again, invited her earnestly to be his wife during many of the next fifteen miles,

and told her of his snug cabin and his horses and his mine. Then she got down and rode inside, Independence

and Grandmother Stark shining in her eye. At Point of Rocks, where they had supper and his drive ended, her

face distracted his heart, and he told her once more about his cabin, and lamentably hoped she would

remember him. She answered sweetly that she would try, and gave him her hand. After all, he was a

franklooking boy, who had paid her the highest compliment that a boy (or a man for that matter) knows; and

The new driver banished the first one from the maiden's mind. He was not a franklooking boy, and he had

been taking whiskey. All night long he took it, while his passenger, helpless and sleepless inside the lurching

stage, sat as upright as she possibly could; nor did the voices that she heard at Drybone reassure her. Sunrise

found the white stage lurching eternally on across the alkali, with a driver and a bottle on the box, and a pale

girl staring out at the plain, and knotting in her handkerchief some utterly dead flowers. They came to a river

where the man bungled over the ford. Two wheels sank down over an edge, and the canvas toppled like a

descending kite. The ripple came sucking through the upper spokes, and as she felt the seat careen, she put

out her head and tremulously asked if anything was wrong. But the driver was addressing his team with much

Then a tall rider appeared close against the buried axles, and took her out of the stage on his horse so

suddenly that she screamed. She felt splashes, saw a swimming flood, and found herself lifted down upon the

shore. The rider said something to her about cheering up, and its being all right, but her wits were stockstill,

so she did not speak and thank him. After four days of train and thirty hours of stage, she was having a little

too much of the unknown at once. Then the tall man gently withdrew leaving her to become herself again.

She limply regarded the river pouring round the slanted stage, and a number of horsemen with ropes, who

righted the vehicle, and got it quickly to dry land, and disappeared at once with a herd of cattle, uttering lusty

She saw the tall one delaying beside the driver, and speaking. He spoke so quietly that not a word reached

her, until of a sudden the driver protested loudly. The man had thrown something, which turned out to be a

bottle. This twisted loftily and dived into the stream. He said something more to the driver, then put his hand

on the saddlehorn, looked halflingeringly at the passenger on the bank, dropped his grave eyes from hers,

and swinging upon his horse, was gone just as the passenger opened her mouth and with inefficient voice

The driver drove up now, a chastened creature. He helped Miss Wood in, and inquired after her welfare with

a hanging head; then meek as his own drenched horses, he climbed back to his reins, and nursed the stage on

As for Miss Wood, she sat recovering, and she wondered what the man on the horse must think of her. She

knew that she was not ungrateful, and that if he had given her an opportunity she would have explained to

him. If he supposed that she did not appreciate his actHere into the midst of these meditations came an

abrupt memory that she had screamedshe could not be sure when. She rehearsed the adventure from the

beginning, and found one or two further uncertaintieshow it had all been while she was on the horse, for

instance. It was confusing to determine precisely what she had done with her arms. She knew where one of

his arms had been. And the handkerchief with the flowers was gone. She made a few rapid dives in search of

it. Had she, or had she not, seen him putting something in his pocket? And why had she behaved so unlike

herself? In a few miles Miss Wood entertained sentiments of maidenly resentment toward her rescuer, and of

To that river crossing he came again, alone, when the days were growing short. The ford was dry sand, and

the stream a winding lane of shingle. He found a pool,pools always survive the year round in this

stream,and having watered his pony, he lunched near the spot to which he had borne the frightened

passenger that day. Where the flowing current had been he sat, regarding the now extremely safe channel.

"She cert'nly wouldn't need to grip me so close this mawnin'," he said, as he pondered over his meal. "I

reckon it will mightily astonish her when I tell her how harmless the torrent is lookin'." He held out to his

pony a slice of bread matted with sardines, which the pony expertly accepted. "You're a plumb piebiter you

Monte," he continued. Monte rubbed his nose on his master's shoulder. "I wouldn't trust you with berries and

Presently he tightened the forward cinch, got in the saddle, and the pony fell into his wise mechanical jog; for

he had come a long way, and was going a long way, and he knew this as well as the man did.

To use the language of Cattle Land, steers had "jumped to seventyfive." This was a great and prosperous

leap in their value. To have flourished in that golden time you need not be dead now, nor even middleaged;

but it is Wyoming mythology alreadyquite as fabulous as the highjumping cow. Indeed, people gathered

together and behaved themselves much in the same pleasant and improbable way. Johnson County, and

Natrona, and Converse, and others, to say nothing of the Cheyenne Club, had been lumping over the moon

for some weeks, all on account of steers; and on the strength of this vigorous price of seventyfive, the

Stanton Brothers were giving a barbecue at the Goose Egg outfit, their ranch on Bear Creek. Of course the

whole neighborhood was bidden, and would come forty miles to a man; some would come furtherthe

Virginian was coming a hundred and eighteen. It had struck himrather suddenly, as shall be made

plainthat he should like to see how they were getting along up there on Bear Creek. "They," was how he

put it to his acquaintances. His acquaintances did not know that he had bought himself a pair of trousers and a

scarf, unnecessarily excellent for such a general visit. They did not know that in the spring, two days after the

adventure with the stage, he had learned accidentally who the lady in the stage was. This he had kept to

himself; nor did the camp ever notice that he had ceased to sing that eightieth stanza he had made about the A

B Cthe stanza which was not printable. He effaced it imperceptibly, giving the boys the other seventynine

at judicious intervals. They dreamed of no guile, but merely saw in him, whether frequenting camp or town,

the same not overangelic comrade whom they valued and could not wholly understand.

All spring he had ridden trail, worked at ditches during, summer, and now he had just finished with the beef

roundup. Yesterday, while he was spending a little comfortable money at the Drybone hogranch, a casual

traveller from the north gossiped of Bear Creek, and the fences up there, and the farm crops, the Westfalls,

and the young schoolmarm from Vermont, for whom the Taylors had built a cabin next door to theirs. The

traveller had not seen her, but Mrs. Taylor and all the ladies thought the world of her, and Lin McLean had

told him she was "away up in G." She would have plenty of partners at this Swinton barbecue. Great boom

The Virginian heard, asking no questions; and left town in an hour, with the scarf and trousers tied in his

slicker behind his saddle. After looking upon the ford again, even though it was dry and not at all the same

place, he journeyed in attentively. When you have been hard at work for months with no time to think, of

course you think a great deal during your first empty days. "Step along, you Monte hawss!" he said, rousing

after some while. He disciplined Monte, who flattened his ears affectedly and snorted. "Why, you surely ain'

thinkin' of you'self as a hero? She wasn't really adrowndin', you piebiter." He rested his serious glance

upon the alkali. "She's not likely to have forgot that mixup, though. I guess I'll not remind her about grippin'

me, and all that. She wasn't the kind a man ought to josh about such things. She had a right clear eye." Thus,

tall and loose in the saddle, did he jog along the sixty miles which still lay between him and the dance.

Two camps in the open, and the Virginian's Monte horse, untired, brought him to the Swintons' in good time

for the barbecue. The horse received good food at length, while his rider was welcomed with good whiskey.

Inside the Goose Egg kitchen many small delicacies were preparing, and a steer was roasting whole outside.

The bed of flame under it showed steadily brighter against the dusk that was beginning to veil the lowlands.

The busy hosts went and came, while men stood and men lay near the fireglow. Chalkeye was there, and

Nebrasky, and Trampas, and Honey Wiggin, with others, enjoying the occasion; but Honey Wiggin was

"Hello!" he said, perceiving the Virginian. "So you've dropped in for your turn! Numbersix, ain't he,

"Depends who's arunnin' the countin'," said the Virginian, and stretched himself down among the audience.

"How far away was you standin' when you beheld that?" inquired the lounging Southerner.

"Well, boys," said Wiggin, "I expect it will be Miss Schoolmarm says who's number one tonight."

"Nebrasky and the boys was tellin' me they'd missed yu' off the range," again interposed Wiggin. "Say,

Nebrasky, who have yu' offered your canary to the schoolmarm said you mustn't give her?"

"Well, she's a lady, and she's square, not takin' a man's gift when she don't take the man. But you'd ought to

get back all them letters yu' wrote her. Yu' sure ought to ask her for them telltales."

"Ah, pshaw, Honey!" protested the youth. It was well known that he could not write his name.

"Why, if here ain't Bokay Baldy!" cried the agile Wiggin, stooping to fresh prey. "Found them slippers yet,

Baldy? Tell yu' boys, that was turruble sad luck Baldy had. Did yu' hear about that? Baldy, yu' know, he can

stay on a tame horse most as well as the schoolmarm. But just you give him a pair of young knittin'needles

and see him make 'em sweat! He worked an elegant pair of slippers with pink cabbages on 'em for Miss

"So yu' did!" assented the skilful comedian. "Baldy he bought 'em. And on the road to her cabin there at the

Taylors' he got thinkin' they might be too big, and he got studyin' what to do. And he fixed up to tell her

about his not bein' sure of the size, and how she was to let him know if they dropped off her, and he'd

exchange' 'em, and when he got right near her door, why, he couldn't find his courage. And so he slips the

parcel under the fence and starts serenadin' her. But she ain't inside her cabin at all. She's at supper next door

with the Taylors, and Baldy singin' 'Love has conqwered pride and angwer' to a lone house. Lin McLean was

comin' up by Taylor's corral, where Taylor's Texas bull was. Well, it was turruble sad. Baldy's pants got tore,

but he fell inside the fence, and Lin druv the bull back and somebody stole them Medicine Bow galoshes. Are

"The half that was tore off yer pants? Well, never mind, Baldy; Lin will get left too, same as all of yu'."

"Is there many?" inquired the Virginian. He was still stretched on his back, looking up at the sky.

"I don't know how many she's been used to where she was raised," Wiggin answered. "A kid stagedriver

come from Point of Rocks one day and went back the next. Then the foreman of the 76 outfit, and the

horsewrangler from the BarCircleL, and two deputy marshals, with punchers, stringin' right along,all

got their tumble. Old Judge Burrage from Cheyenne come up in August for a hunt and stayed round here and

never hunted at all. There was that horse thiefawful goodlookin'. Taylor wanted to warn her about him,

but Mrs. Taylor said she'd look after her if it was needed. Mr. Horsethief gave it up quicker than most; but

the schoolmarm couldn't have knowed he had a Mrs. Horsethief camped on Poison Spider till afterwards.

The Virginian stopped looking at the sky, and watched Trampas from where he lay.

"Encourages? Because she lets yu' teach her how to shoot," said Wiggin. "WellI don't guess I'm a judge.

I've always kind o' kep' away from them good women. Don't seem to think of anything to chat about to 'em.

"Riding and shooting and kissing the kids," sneered Trampas. "That's a heap too pussykitten for me."

"Look for the man, I say," Trampas pursued. "And ain't he there? She leaves Baldy sit on the fence while she

They laughed loudly at the blackguard picture which he drew; and the laugh stopped short, for the Virginian

The man was still for a moment in the dead silence. "I thought you claimed you and her wasn't acquainted,"

The eye of a man is the prince of deadly weapons. Trampas looked in the Virginian's, and slowly rose. "I

"Well, I'll call that sufficient. Keep astandin' still. I ain' going to trouble yu' long. In admittin' yourself to be

a liar you have spoke God's truth for onced. Honey Wiggin, you and me and the boys have hit town too

frequent for any of us to play Sunday on the balance of the gang." He stopped and surveyed Public Opinion,

seated around in carefully inexpressive attention. "We ain't a Christian outfit a little bit, and maybe we have

most forgotten what decency feels like. But I reckon we haven't forgot what it means. You can sit down now,

The liar stood and sneered experimentally, looking at Public Opinion. But this changeful deity was no longer

with him, and he heard it variously assenting, "That's so," and "She's a lady," and otherwise excellently

moralizing. So he held his peace. When, however, the Virginian had departed to the roasting steer, and Public

Opinion relaxed into that comfort which we all experience when the sermon ends, Trampas sat down amid

"Shut your rank mouth," said Wiggin to him, amiably. "I don't care whether he knows her or if he done it on

principle. I'll accept the roundin' up he gave usand say! You'll swallo' your dose, too! Us boys'll stand in

He had championed the feeble, and spoken honorably in meeting, and according to all the constitutions and

bylaws of morality, he should have been walking in virtue's especial calm. But there it was! he had spoken;

he had given them a peep through the keyhole at his inner man; and as he prowled away from the

assemblage before whom he stood convicted of decency, it was vicious rather than virtuous that he felt. Other

matters also disquieted himso Lin McLean was hanging round that schoolmarm! Yet he joined Ben

Swinton in a seemingly Christian spirit. He took some whiskey and praised the size of the barrel, speaking

with his host like this:"There cert'nly ain' goin' to be trouble about a second helpin'."

"No. We tried for ducks away down as far as the Laparel outfit. A real barbecue"

"She keeps ateaching the darned kids, and it seems like a good growedup man can't interest her."

"There used to be all the ducks you wanted at the Laparel, but their fool cook's dead stuck on raising turkeys

"That must have been mighty close to a drowndin' the schoolmarm got at South Fork."

"Yes. Must have drownded somebody else. Here they come! That's her ridin' the horse. There's the Westfalls.

"Yes," shouted Swinton, for the Virginian was now some distance away; "towels and everything in the

The Virginian reached his saddle under a shed. "So she's never mentioned it," said he, untying his slicker for

the trousers and scarf. "I didn't notice Lin anywheres around her." He was over in the dugout now, whipping

off his overalls; and soon he was excellently clean and ready, except for the tie in his scarf and the part in his

hair. "I'd have knowed her in Greenland," he remarked. He held the candle up and down at the lookingglass,

and the lookingglass up and down at his head. "It's mighty strange why she ain't mentioned that." He

worried the scarf a fold or two further, and at length, a trifle more than satisfied with his appearance, he

proceeded most serenely toward the sound of the tuning fiddles. He passed through the storeroom behind

the kitchen, stepping lightly lest he should rouse the ten or twelve babies that lay on the table or beneath it.

On Bear Creek babies and children always went with their parents to a dance, because nurses were unknown.

So little Alfred and Christopher lay there among the wraps, parallel and crosswise with little Taylors, and

little Carmodys, and Lees, and all the Bear Creek offspring that was not yet able to skip at large and hamper

"Why, Lin ain't hyeh yet!" said the Virginian, looking in upon the people. There was Miss Wood, standing up

for the quadrille. "I didn't remember her hair was that pretty," said he. "But ain't she a little, little girl!"

Now she was in truth five feet three; but then he could look away down on the top of her head.

"Salute your honey!" called the first fiddler. All partners bowed to each other, and as she turned, Miss Wood

saw the man in the doorway. Again, as it had been at South Fork that day, his eyes dropped from hers, and

she divining instantly why he had come after half a year, thought of the handkerchief and of that scream of

hers in the river, and became filled with tyranny and anticipation; for indeed he was fine to look upon. So she

"First lady, centre!" said her partner, reminding her of her turn. "Have you forgotten how it goes since last

Molly Wood did not forget again, but quadrilled with the most sprightly devotion.

"Ha, ha, ha! That's rich, too!" and so the simple partner explained a great deal about the Virginian to Molly

Wood. At the end of the set she saw the man by the door take a step in her direction.

"Oh," said she, quickly, to the partner, "how warm it is! I must see how those babies are doing." And she

His eyes gravely lingered where she had gone. "She knowed me right away," said he. He looked for a

moment' then leaned against the door. "'How warm it is!' said she. Well, it ain't so screechin' hot hyeh; and as

for rushin' after Alfred and Christopher, when their natural motheh is bumpin' around handyshe cert'nly

can't be offended?" he broke off, and looked again where she had gone. And then Miss Wood passed him

brightly again, and was dancing the schottische almost immediately. "Oh, yes, she knows me," the swarthy

cowpuncher mused. "She has to take trouble not to see me. And what she's afussin' at is mighty interestin'.

"Better persuade the schoolmarm to learn it. She's goin' to give me instruction."

"Why, they claimed you weren't drinkin' this month!" said his friend, following.

"Well, I am. Here's luck!" The two pledged in tin cups. "But I'm not waltzin' with her," blurted Mr. McLean

"Waltzin'," repeated the Virginian quickly, and hearing the fiddles he hastened away.

Few in the Bear Creek Country could waltz, and with these few it was mostly an unsteered and ponderous

exhibition; therefore was the Southerner bent upon profiting by his skill. He entered the room, and his lady

saw him come where she sat alone for the moment, and her thoughts grew a little hurried.

"I beg your pardon?" It was a remote, wellschooled eye that she lifted now upon him.

"You're from Virginia, I understand?" said Molly Wood, regarding him politely, but not rising. One gains

"That's correct." The cowpuncher flushed, but he spoke in his unvaryingly gentle voice.

"For in New England, you know," pursued Miss Molly, noting his scarf and cleanshaven chin, and then

again steadily meeting his eye, "gentlemen ask to be presented to ladies before they ask them to waltz."

He stood a moment before her, deeper and deeper scarlet; and the more she saw his handsome face, the

keener rose her excitement. She waited for him to speak of the river; for then she was going to be surprised,

and gradually to remember, and finally to be very nice to him. But he did not wait. "I ask your pardon, lady,"

said he, and bowing, walked off, leaving her at once afraid that he might not come back. But she had

altogether mistaken her man. Back he came serenely with Mr. Taylor, and was duly presented to her. Thus

It can never be known what the cowpuncher was going to say next; for Uncle Hughey stepped up with a

glass of water which he had left Wood to bring, and asking for a turn, most graciously received it. She danced

away from a situation where she began to feel herself getting the worst of it. One moment the Virginian

stared at his lady as she lightly circulated, and then he went out to the barrel.

Leave him for Uncle Hershey! Jealousy is a deep and delicate thing, and works its spite in many ways. The

Virginian had been ready to look at Lin McLean with a hostile eye; but finding him now beside the barrel, he

felt a brotherhood between himself and Lin, and his hostility had taken a new and whimsical direction.

"Been gettin' them instructions?" said Mr. McLean, grinning. "I thought I saw yu' learning your steps through

"Here's your good health," said the Southerner. Once more they pledged each other handsomely.

"Jest because yu' happen to come from Vermont," continued Mr. McLean, "is no cause for extra pride. Shoo!

I was raised in Massachusetts myself, and big men have been raised there, too,Daniel Webster and Israel

"Both of 'em's a sight ahead of Vermont. She told me I was the first exception she'd struck."

"Why, I'd been ridin' out with herridin' to school, ridin' from school, and acomin' and agoin', and she

chattin' cheerful and askin' me a heap o' questions all about myself every day, and I not lyin' much neither.

And so I figured she wouldn't mind. Lots of 'em like it. But she didn't, you bet!"

"No," said the Virginian, deeply proud of his lady who had slighted him. He had pulled her out of the water

once, and he had been her unrewarded knight even today, and he felt his grievance; but he spoke not of it to

Lin; for he felt also, in memory, her arms clinging round him as he carried her ashore upon his horse. But he

muttered, "Plumb ridiculous!" as her injustice struck him afresh, while the outraged McLean told his tale.

"Trample is what she has done on me tonight, and without notice. We was startin' to come here; Taylor and

Mrs. were ahead in the buggy, and I was holdin' her horse, and helpin' her up in the saddle, like I done for

days and days. Who was there to see us? And I figured she'd not mind, and she calls me an exception! Yu'd

ought to've just heard her about Western men respectin' women. So that's the last word we've spoke. We

come twentyfive miles then, she scootin' in front, and her horse kickin' the sand in my face. Mrs. Taylor, she

"Not she! She'll never open her head. She can take care of herself, you bet!" The fiddles sounded hilariously

in the house, and the feet also. They had warmed up altogether, and their dancing figures crossed the

windows back and forth. The two cowpunchers drew near to a window and looked in Gloomily.

"With Uncle Hughey again," said the Virginian, sourly. "Yu' might suppose he didn't have a wife and twins,

"James!" exclaimed the Virginian. "He's another with a wife and fam'ly, and he gets the dancin', too."

"Another married man!" the Southerner commented. They prowled round to the storeroom, and passed

through the kitchen to where the dancers were robustly tramping. Miss Wood was still the partner of Mr.

Taylor. "Let's have some whiskey," said the Virginian. They had it, and returned, and the Virginian's disgust

and sense of injury grew deeper. "Old Carmody has got her now," he drawled. "He polkas like a landslide.

She learns his monkeyfaced kid to spell dog and cow all the mawnin'. He'd ought to be tucked up cosey in

They were standing in that place set apart for the sleeping children; and just at this moment one of two babies

that were stowed beneath a chair uttered a drowsy note. A much louder cry, indeed a chorus of lament, would

have been needed to reach the ears of the parents in the room beyond, such was the noisy volume of the

dance. But in this quiet place the light sound caught Mr. McLean's attention, and he turned to see if anything

"Saw his wife put 'em under the chair so she could find 'em right off when she come to go home."

"Oh," said the Virginian, thoughtfully. "Oh, find 'em right off. Yes. Uncle Hughey's twins." He walked to a

spot from which he could view the dance. "Well," he continued, returning, "the schoolmarm must have taken

quite a notion to Uncle Hughey. He has got her for this quadrille." The Virginian was now speaking without

rancor; but his words came with a slightly augmented drawl, and this with him was often a bad omen. He

none turned his eyes upon the collected babies wrapped in various colored shawls and knitted work. "Nine,

ten, eleven, beautiful sleepin' strangers," he counted, in a sweet voice. "Any of 'em yourn, Lin?"

"Eleven, twelve. This hyeh is little Christopher in the bluestripe quiltor maybe that other yello'head is

him. The angels have commenced to drop in on us right smart along Bear Creek, Lin."

"If they look so awful alike in the heavenly gyarden," the gentle Southerner continued, "I'd just hate to be the

folks that has the cuttin' of 'em out o' the general herd. And that's a right quaint notion too," he added softly.

"Them under the chair are Uncle Hughey's, didn't you tell me?" And stooping, he lifted the torpid babies and

placed them beneath a table. "No, that ain't thorough," he murmured. With wonderful dexterity and solicitude

for their wellfare, he removed the loose wrap which was around them, and this soon led to an intricate

process of exchange. For a moment Mr. McLean had been staring at the Virginian, puzzled. Then, with a

And while both busied themselves with the shawls and quilts, the unconscious parents went dancing

vigorously on, and the small, occasional cries of their progeny did not reach them.

The Swinton barbecue was over. The fiddles were silent, the steer was eaten, the barrel emptied, or largely so,

and the tapers extinguished; round the house and sunken fire all movement of guests was quiet; the families

were long departed homeward, and after their hospitable turbulence, the Swintons slept.

Mr. and Mrs. Westfall drove through the night, and as they neared their cabin there came from among the

"Bosh! Lizzie, don't you fret. He's a little more than a yearlin', and of course he'll snuffle." And young James

"Well, how you can speak of Alfred that way, calling him a yearling, as if he was a calf, and he just as much

So they hurried home. Soon the nine miles were finished, and good James was unhitching by his stable

lantern, while his wife in the house hastened to commit their offspring to bed. The traces had dropped, and

each horse marched forward for further unbuckling, when James heard himself called. Indeed, there was that

in his wife's voice which made him jerk out his pistol as he ran. But it was no bear or Indianonly two

"Where have I" Utterance forsook this mother for a moment. "And you ask me!" she continued. "Ask Lin

McLean. Ask him that sets bulls on folks and steals slippers, what he's done with our innocent lambs, mixing

them up with other people's coughing, unhealthy brats. That's Charlie Taylor in Alfred's clothes, and I know

Alfred didn't cough like that, and I said to you it was strange; and the other one that's been put in

As this crime against society loomed clear to James Westfall's understanding, he sat down on the nearest

piece of furniture, and heedless of his wife's tears and his exchanged children, broke into unregenerate

laughter. Doubtless after his sharp alarm about the bear, he was unstrung. His lady, however, promptly

restrung him; and by the time they had repacked the now clamorous changelings, and were rattling on their

way to the Taylors', he began to share her outraged feelings properly, as a husband and a father should; but

when he reached the Taylors' and learned from Miss Wood that at this house a child had been unwrapped

whom nobody could at all identify, and that Mr. and Mrs. Taylor were already far on the road to the

Swintons', James Westfall whipped up his horses and grew almost as thirsty for revenge as was his wife.

Where the steer had been roasted, the powdered ashes were now cold white, and Mr. McLean, feeling

through his dreams the change of dawn come over the air, sat up cautiously among the outdoor slumberers

"Day will be soon," he whispered, "and we must light out of this. I never suspicioned yu' had that much of the

"I reckon some of the fellows will act haidstrong," the Virginian murmured luxuriously, among the warmth

"I tell yu' we must skip," said Lin, for the second time; and he rubbed the Virginian's black head, which alone

"Skip, then, you," came muffled from within, "and keep you'self mighty sca'ce till they can appreciate our

The Southerner withdrew deeper into his bed, and Mr. McLean, informing him that he was a fool, arose and

saddled his horse. From the saddlebag, he brought a parcel, and lightly laying this beside Bokay Baldy, he

mounted and was gone. When Baldy awoke later, he found the parcel to be a pair of flowery slippers.

In selecting the inert Virginian as the fool, Mr. McLean was scarcely wise; it is the absent who are always

Before ever Lin could have been a mile in retreat, the rattle of the wheels roused all of them, and here came

the Taylors. Before the Taylors' knocking had brought the Swintons to their door, other wheels sounded, and

here were Mr. and Mrs. Carmody, and Uncle Hughey with his wife, and close after them Mr. Dow, alone,

who told how his wife had gone into one of her fitsshe upon whom Dr. Barker at Drybone had enjoined

total abstinence from all excitement. Voices of women and children began to be up lifted; the Westfalls

arrived in a lather, and the Thomases; and by sunrise, what with fathers and mothers and spectators and loud

offspring, there was gathered such a meeting as has seldom been before among the generations of speaking

men. Today you can hear legends of it from Texas to Montana; but I am giving you the full particulars.

Of course they pitched upon poor Lin. Here was the Virginian doing his best, holding horses and helping

ladies descend, while the name of McLean began to be muttered with threats. Soon a party led by Mr. Dow

set forth in search of him, and the Southerner debated a moment if he had better not put them on a wrong

Mrs. Westfall found Christopher at once in the green shawl of Anna Maria Dow, but all was not achieved

thus in the twinkling of an eye Mr. McLean had, it appeared, as James Westfall lugubriously pointed out, not

merely "swapped the duds; he had shuffled the whole doggone deck;" and they cursed this Satanic invention.

The fathers were but of moderate assistance; it was the mothers who did the heavy work; and by ten o'clock

some unsolved problems grew so delicate that a ladies' caucus was organized in a private room,no

During its progress the search party returned. It had not found Mr. McLean. It had found a tree with a notice

But success attended the caucus; each mother emerged, satisfied that she had received her own, and each sire,

now that his family was itself again, began to look at his neighbor sideways. After a man has been angry

enough to kill another man, after the fire of righteous slaughter has raged in his heart as it had certainly raged

for several hours in the hearts of these fathers, the flame will usually burn itself out. This will be so in a

generous nature, unless the cause of the anger is still unchanged. But the children had been identified; none

had taken hurt. All had been humanely given their nourishment. The thing was over. The day was beautiful.

A tempting feast remained from the barbecue. These Bear Creek fathers could not keep their ire at red heat.

Most of them, being as yet more their wives' rovers than their children's parents, began to see the mirthful

Not so the women. They cried for vengeance; but they cried in vain, and were met with smiles.

Mrs. Westfall argued long that punishment should be dealt the offender. "Anyway," she persisted, "it was real

"Yes," spoke the Virginian in their midst, "that wasn't sort o' right. Especially as I am the man you're huntin'."

But they could not resist the way in which he had looked round upon them. He had chosen the right moment

for his confession, as a captain of a horse awaits the proper time for a charge. Some rebukes he did receive;

the worst came from the mothers. And all that he could say for himself was, "I am getting off too easy."

"I would mind it less," said Mrs. Westfall, "if you looked a bit sorry or ashamed."

And thus he sat disarming his accusers until they began to lunch upon the copious remnants of the barbecue.

He did not join them at this meal. In telling you that Mrs. Dow was the only lady absent upon this historic

The Virginian rode away sedately through the autumn sunshine; and as he went he asked his Monte horse a

question. "Do yu' reckon she'll have forgotten you too, you piebiter?" said he. Instead of the new trousers,

the cowpuncher's leathern chaps were on his legs. But he had the new scarf knotted at his neck. Most men

would gladly have equalled him in appearance. "You Monte," said he, "will she be at home?"

It was Sunday, and no school day, and he found her in her cabin that stood next the Taylors' house. Her eyes

"Yes; they've been right busy. That's why I thought I'd call. Will yu' come for a ride, ma'am?"

"No, ma'am. Nor the two of us ride him THIS time, either." At this she turned entirely pink, and he, noticing,

"No. I don't really think I could do that. But thank you. Thank you very much. I must go now and see how

"I'll look after that, ma'am. I'd like for yu' to go ridin' mighty well. Yu' have no babies this mawnin' to be

At this shaft, Grandmother Stark flashed awake deep within the spirit of her descendant, and she made a

Now was his danger; for it was easy to fall into mere crude impertinence and ask her why, then, did she speak

thus abruptly? There were various easy things of this kind for him to say. And any rudeness would have lost

him the battle. But the Virginian was not the man to lose such a battle in such a way. His shaft had hit. She

thought he referred to those babies about whom last night she had shown such superfluous solicitude. Her

conscience was guilty. This was all that he had wished to make sure of before he began operations.

"Why, I mean," said he, easily, sitting down near the door, "that it's Sunday. School don't hinder yu' from

enjoyin' a ride today. You'll teach the kids all the better for it tomorro', ma'am. Maybe it's your duty." And

"Am I a stranger?" he cut in, firing his first broadside. "I was introduced, ma'am," he continued, noting how

she had flushed again. "And I would not be oversteppin' for the world. I'll go away if yu' want." And

Molly was flustered. She did not at all want him to go. No one of her admirers had ever been like this

creature. The fringed leathern chaparreros, the cartridge belt, the flannel shirt, the knotted scarf at the neck,

these things were now an old story to her. Since her arrival she had seen young men and old in plenty dressed

thus. But worn by this man now standing by her door, they seemed to radiate romance. She did not want him

to goand she wished to win her battle. And now in her agitation she became suddenly severe, as she had

But he did not tremble in the least. Her fierceness filled him with delight, and the tender desire of ownership

"And you let them think thatthat Mr. McLeanYou dare not look me in the face and say that Mr. McLean

"I told 'em myself. And their astonishment seemed so genuwine I'd just hate to think they had fooled me that

"I did not see you. I knew it mustOf course I did not tell any one. When I said I said so from the first, I

Poor Molly was near stamping her foot. "And what sort of a trick," she rushed on, "was that to play? Do you

call it a manly thing to frighten and distress women because youfor no reason at all? I should never have

imagined it could be the act of a person who wears a big pistol and rides a big horse. I should be afraid to go

"Yes; that was awful childish. Your words do cut a little; for maybe there's been times when I have acted

pretty near like a man. But I cert'nly forgot to be introduced before I spoke to yu' last night. Because why?

"I cannot sit guessing why people do not behave themselveswho seem to know better."

"Well, ma'am, I've played square and owned up to yu'. And that's not what you're doin' by me. I ask your

pardon if I say what I have a right to say in language not as good as I'd like to talk to yu' with. But at South

"Ino!" she flashed out; then, quite sweetly, "The driver told me it wasn't REALLY so dangerous there, you

"That's not the point I'm makin'. You are a grownup woman, a responsible woman. You've come ever so far,

and all alone, to a rough country to instruct young children that play games,tag, and hideandseek, and

fooleries they'll have to quit when they get old. Don't you think pretendin' yu' don't know a man,his name's

nothin', but him,a man whom you were glad enough to let assist yu' when somebody was needed,don't

you think that's mighty close to hideandseek them children plays? I ain't so sure but what there's a pair of

"That's all square enough. You're goin' to love me before we get through. I wish yu'd come aridin, ma'am."

"Dear, dear, dear! So I'm going to love you? How will you do it? I know men think that they only need to sit

"Goodness gracious! I ain't makin' any chests at yu'!" Laughter overcame him for a moment, and Miss Wood

liked his laugh very much. "Please come aridin'," he urged. "It's the prettiest kind of a day."

She looked at him frankly, and there was a pause. "I will take back two things that I said to you," she then

answered him. "I believe that I do like you. And I know that if I went riding with you, I should not have an

immature protector." And then, with a final gesture of acknowledgment, she held out her hand to him. "And I

It was now her turn to be overcome with merriment. "I've always wanted to be a man," she said.

But Molly had already received enough broadsides for one day. She could allow no more of them, and she

took herself capably in hand. "Where did you learn to make such pretty speeches?" she asked. "Well, never

"I am twentyseven," blurted the Virginian, and knew instantly that he had spoken like a fool.

"Who would have dreamed it!" said Molly, with wellmeasured mockery. She knew that she had scored at

last, and that this day was hers. "Don't be too sure you are glad I'm not a man," she now told him. There was

"For I am almost twentythree myself," she concluded. And she gave him a look on her own account.

"Then I will tell yu' goodby," said he. "But I am comin' again. And next time I'1l have along a gentle hawss

"I live on Judge Henry's ranch, over yondeh." He pointed across the mountains. "It's on Sunk Creek. A pretty

rough trail; but I can come hyeh to see you in a day, I reckon. Well, I hope you'll cert'nly enjoy good health,

"Oh, there's one thing!" said Molly Wood, calling after him rather quickly. "II'm not at all afraid of horses.

You needn't bring sucha gentle one. Iwas very tired that day, andand I don't scream as a rule."

He turned and looked at her so that she could not meet his glance. "Bless your heart!" said he. "Will yu' give

He put the flower in the leather band of his hat, and rode away on his Monte horse. Miss Wood lingered a

moment, then made some steps toward her gate, from which he could still be seen; and then, with something

Later in the day the Virginian met Mr. McLean, who looked at his hat and innocently quoted. "'My Looloo

Thus, for this occasion, did the Virginian part from his ladyand nothing said one way or another about the

As we fall asleep at night, our thoughts will often ramble back and forth between the two worlds.

"What color were his eyes?" wondered Molly on her pillow. "His mustache is not bristly like so many of

them. Sam never gave me such a look as Hoosic Junction. No.... You can't come with me.... Get off your

And while Molly was thus dreaming that the Virginian had ridden his horse into the railroad car, and sat

down beside her, the fire in the great stone chimney of her cabin flickered quietly, its gleams now and again

Camped on the Sunk Creek trail, the Virginian was telling himself in his blankets:"I ain't too old for

education. Maybe she will lend me books. And I'll watch her ways and learn...stand still, Monte. I can learn a

lot more than the kids on that. There's Monte...you piebiter, stop.... He has ate up your book, ma'am, but I'll

To the circle at Bennington, a letter from Bear Creek was always a welcome summons to gather and hear of

doings very strange to Vermont. And when the tale of the changed babies arrived duly by the post, it created

a more than usual sensation, and was read to a large number of pleased and scandalized neighbors. "I hate her

to be where such things can happen," said Mrs. Wood. "I wish I could have been there," said her soninlaw,

Andrew Bell. "She does not mention who played the trick," said Mrs. Andrew Bell. "We shouldn't be any

wiser if she did," said Mrs. Wood. "I'd like to meet the perpetrator," said Andrew. "Oh, no!" said Mrs. Wood.

"They're all horrible." And she wrote at once, begging her daughter to take good care of herself, and to see as

much of Mrs. Balaam as possible. "And of any other ladies that are near you. For you seem to me to be in a

community of roughs. I wish you would give it all up. Did you expect me to laugh about the babies?"

Mrs. Flynt, when this story was repeated to her (she had not been invited in to hear the letter), remarked that

she had always felt that Molly Wood must be a little vulgar, ever since she began to go about giving music

But Mrs. Wood was considerably relieved when the next letter arrived. It contained nothing horrible about

barbecues or babies. It mentioned the great beauty of the weather, and how well and strong the fine air was

making the writer feel. And it asked that books might be sent, many books of all sorts, novels, poetry, all the

good old books and any good new ones that could be spared. Cheap editions, of course. "Indeed she shall

have them!" said Mrs. Wood. "How her mind must be starving in that dreadful place!" The letter was not a

long one, and, besides the books, spoke of little else except the fine weather and the chances for outdoor

exercise that this gave. "You have no idea," it said, "how delightful it is to ride, especially on a spirited horse,

"How nice that is!" said Mrs. Wood, putting down the letter. "I hope the horse is not too spirited.""Who

does she go riding with?" asked Mrs. Bell. "She doesn't say, Sarah. Why?""Nothing. She has a queer way

of not mentioning things, now and then.""Sarah!" exclaimed Mrs. Wood, reproachfully. "Oh, well, mother,

you know just as well as I do that she can be very independent and unconventional.""Yes; but not in that

way. She wouldn't ride with poor Sam Bannett, and after all he is a suitable person."

Nevertheless, in her next letter, Mrs. Wood cautioned her daughter about trusting herself with any one of

whom Mrs. Balaam did not thoroughly approve. The good lady could never grasp that Mrs. Balaam lived a

long day's journey from Bear Creek, and that Molly saw her about once every three months. "We have sent

your books," the mother wrote; "everybody has contributed from their store,Shakespeare, Tennyson,

Browning, Longfellow; and a number of novels by Scott, Thackeray, George Eliot, Hawthorne, and lesser

writers; some volumes of Emerson; and Jane Austen complete, because you admire her so particularly."

This consignment of literature reached Bear Creek about a week before Christmas time.

"Well, I have managed to get through 'em," he said, as he entered Molly's cabin in February. And he laid two

"No, I don't mean that kind of a ride. I've earned a ride with just us two alone. I've read every word of both of

"No. Not much. If I'd knowed that one was a detective story, I'd have got yu' to try something else on me.

Can you guess the murderer, or is the author too smart for yu'? That's all they amount to. Well, he was too

smart for me this time, but that didn't distress me any. That other book talks too much."

"Oh, yes, yes. A fine book. But it will keep up its talkin'. Don't let you alone."

"Hmp. Yes. Sorry for her, and for Tawmmy, too. But the man did right to drownd 'em both."

But she did. And he returned to Sunk Creek, not with a detective story, but this time with a Russian novel.

It was almost April when he brought it back to herand a heavy sleet storm lost them their ride. So he spent

his time indoors with her, not speaking a syllable of love. When he came to take his departure, he asked her

"I wish you had," he said. "I've never saw a book could tell the truth like that one does."

"Why, what do you like about it?" she exclaimed. To her it had been distasteful.

"Everything," he answered. "That young comeouter, and his fam'ly that can't understand himfor he is

broad gauge, yu' see, and they are narro' gauge." The Virginian looked at Molly a moment almost shyly. "Do

you know," he said, and a blush spread over his face, "I pretty near cried when that young comeouter was

dyin', and said about himself, 'I was a giant.' Life made him broad gauge, yu' see, and then took his chance

Molly liked the Virginian for his blush. It made him very handsome. But she thought that it came from his

confession about "pretty near crying." The deeper cause she failed to divine,that he, like the dying hero in

the novel, felt himself to be a giant whom life had made "broad gauge," and denied opportunity. Fecund

nature begets and squanders thousands of these rich seeds in the wilderness of life.

He took away with him a volume of Shakespeare. "I've saw good plays of his," he remarked.

Kind Mrs. Taylor in her cabin next door watched him ride off in the sleet, bound for the lonely mountain trail.

"If that girl don't get ready to take him pretty soon," she observed to her husband, "I'll give her a piece of my

It was warmwarm and beautiful upon Bear Creek. Snow shone upon the peaks of the Bow Leg range;

lower on their slopes the pines were stirring with a gentle song; and flowers bloomed across the wide plains

Molly and her Virginian sat at a certain spring where he had often ridden with her. On this day he was

bidding her farewell before undertaking the most important trust which Judge Henry had as yet given him.

For this journey she had provided him with Sir Walter Scott's Kenilworth. Shakespeare he had returned to

her. He had bought Shakespeare for himself. "As soon as I got used to readin' it," he had told her, "I knowed

But it was not of books that he had spoken much today. He had not spoken at all. He had bade her listen to

the meadowlark, when its song fell upon the silence like beaded drops of music. He had showed her where a

covey of young willowgrouse were hiding as their horses passed. And then, without warning, as they sat by

He answered roughly, "I am the judge of that." And his roughness was a pleasure to her, yet it made her

afraid of herself. When he was absent from her, and she could sit in her cabin and look at Grandmother Stark,

and read home letters, then in imagination she found it easy to play the part which she had arranged to play

regarding himthe part of the guide, and superior, and indulgent companion. But when he was by her side,

that part became a difficult one. Her woman's fortress was shaken by a force unknown to her before. Sam

Bannett did not have it in him to look as this man could look, when the cold lustre of his eyes grew hot with

internal fire. What color they were baffled her still. "Can it possibly change?" she wondered. It seemed to her

that sometimes when she had been looking from a rock straight down into clear sea water, this same color

had lurked in its depths. "Is it green, or is it gray?" she asked herself, but did not turn just now to see. She

He pondered. "I used to have to learn about the Declaration of Independence. I hated books and truck when I

"No. I cert'nly don't. But I used to get kep' in at recess for bein' so dumb. I was most always at the tail end of

She looked at him, puzzled by his tone. "It's not strange when you know Bob," she said.

"Well, it is mighty confusin'. George Taylor, he's your best scholar, and poor Bob, he's your worst, and there's

"I'll tell you what," pursued the cowpuncher, with slow and growing intensity, "equality is a great big bluff.

"Wait, and let me say what I mean." He had made an imperious gesture with his hand. "I know a man that

mostly wins at cyards. I know a man that mostly loses. He says it is his luck. All right. Call it his luck. I know

a man that works hard and he's gettin' rich, and I know another that works hard and is gettin' poor. He says it

is his luck. All right. Call it his luck. I look around and I see folks movin' up or movin' down, winners or

losers everywhere. All luck, of course. But since folks can be born that different in their luck, where's your

equality? No, seh! call your failure luck, or call it laziness, wander around the words, prospect all yu' mind to,

and yu'll come out the same old trail of inequality." He paused a moment and looked at her. "Some holds four

aces," he went on, "and some holds nothin', and some poor fello' gets the aces and no show to play 'em; but a

"I know what yu' meant," he told her now, "by sayin' you're not the wife I'd want. But I am the kind that

moves up. I am goin' to be your best scholar." He turned toward her, and that fortress within her began to

"Go on so! I don't reckon yu' know what you're sayin'. Yu' might as well ask fruit to stay green. If the way we

are now can keep bein' enough for you, it can't for me. A pleasure to you, is it? Well, to me it isI don't

know what to call it. I come to yu' and I hate it, and I come again and I hate it, and I ache and grieve all over

when I go. No! You will have to think of some other way than just invitin' me to keep green."

"You're not to see me. Not like this. I can stay away easier than what I am Join'."

"Make it as impossible as you please!" he cried. He thought it was to be some action.

"Go on coming. But don't talk to me aboutdon't talk in that wayif you can help it"

"But," she continued, "if you can't help talking that waysometimesI promise I will listen. That is the

Then he helped her mount her horse, restraining himself like a Spartan, and they rode home to her cabin.

"You have made it pretty near impossible," he said, as he took his leave. "But you've been square today, and

I'll show you I can be square when I come back. I'll not do more than ask you if your mind's the same. And

now I'll not see you for quite a while. I am going a long way. But I'll be very busy. And bein' busy always

He smiled at her. "I doubt if yu' can help missin' me," he remarked. And he was gone at once, galloping on

There can be no doubt of this:All America is divided into two classes,the qualify and the equality.

The latter will always recognize the former when mistaken for it. Both will be with us until our women bear

It was through the Declaration of Independence that we Americans acknowledged the ETERNAL

EQUALITY of man. For by it we abolished a cutanddried aristocracy. We had seen little mere artificially

held up in high places, and great men artificially held down in low places, and our own justiceloving hearts

abhorred this violence to human nature. Therefore, we decreed that every man should thenceforth have equal

liberty to find his own level. By this very decree we acknowledged and gave freedom to true aristocracy,

saying, "Let the best man win, whoever he is." Let the best man win! That is America's word. That is true

democracy. And true democracy and true aristocracy are one and the same thing. If anybody cannot see this,

The above reflections occurred to me before reaching Billings, Montana, some three weeks after I had

unexpectedly met the Virginian at Omaha, Nebraska. I had not known of that trust given to him by Judge

Henry, which was taking him East. I was looking to ride with him before long among the clean hills of Sunk

Creek. I supposed he was there. But I came upon him one morning in Colonel Cyrus Jones's eating palace.

Did you know the palace? It stood in Omaha, near the trains, and it was ten years old (which is middleaged

in Omaha) when I first saw it. It was a shell of wood, painted with golden emblems,the steamboat, the

eagle, the Yosemite,and a live bear ate gratuities at its entrance. Weather permitting, it opened upon the

world as a stage upon the audience. You sat in Omaha's whole sight and dined, while Omaha's dust came and

settled upon the refreshments. It is gone the way of the Indian and the buffalo, for the West is growing old.

You should have seen the palace and sat there. In front of you passed rainbows of men,Chinese, Indian

chiefs, Africans, General Miles, younger sons, Austrian nobility, wide females in pink. Our continent drained

So I was passing that way also, walking for the sake of ventilation from a sleepingcar toward a bath, when

the language of Colonel Cyrus Jones came out to me. The actual colonel I had never seen before. He stood at

the rear of his palace in gray flowery mustaches and a Confederate uniform, telling the wishes of his guests to

the cook through a hole. You always bought meal tickets at once, else you became unwelcome. Guests here

had foibles at times, and a rapid exit was too easy. Therefore I bought a ticket. It was spring and summer

since I had heard anything like the colonel. The Missouri had not yet flowed into New York dialect freely,

and his vocabulary met me like the breeze of the plains. So I went in to be fanned by it, and there sat the

His greeting was up to the code of indifference proper on the plains; but he presently remarked, "I'm right

glad to see somebody," which was a good deal to say. "Them that comes hyeh," he observed next, "don't eat.

They feed." And he considered the guests with a sombre attention. "D' yu' reckon they find joyful digestion in

"Oh, pshaw! When yu' can't have what you choose, yu' just choose what you have." And he took the

billoffare. I began to know that he had something on his mind, so I did not trouble him further.

Most improbable dishes were there,salmis, canapes, supremes,all perfectly spelt and absolutely

transparent. It was the old trick of copying some metropolitan menu to catch travellers of the third and last

dimension of innocence; and whenever this is done the food is of the third and last dimension of awfulness,

"But what about them?" he repeated. His finger was at a special item, FROGS' LEGS A LA DELMONICO.

"Are they true anywheres?" he asked And I told him, certainly. I also explained to him almost Delmonico of

"There's not a little bit o' use in lyin' to me this mawnin'," he said, with his engaging smile. "I ain't goin' to

"Well, I'll see how he gets out of it," I said, remembering the odd Texas legend. (The traveller read the

billoffare, you know, and called for a volauvent. And the proprietor looked at the traveller, and running

a pistol into his ear, observed, "You'll take hash.") I was thinking of this and wondering what would happen

"Wants frogs' legs, does he?" shouted Colonel Cyrus Jones. He fixed his eye upon me, and it narrowed to a

slit. "Too many brain workers breakfasting before yu' came in, professor," said he. "Missionary ate the last

leg off me just now. Brown the wheat!" he commanded, through the hole to the cook, for some one had

"I should like a glass of water, please," said I. The colonel threw me a look of pity.

"That fello's a right live man," commented the Virginian. But he seemed thoughtful. Presently he inquired,

That was this cowpuncher's way. Scarcely ever would he let drop a thing new to him until he had got from

you your whole information about it. So I told him the history of Lorenzo Delmonico and his pioneer work,

"Mighty interestin'," he said" mighty. He could just take little old o'rn'ry frawgs, and dandy 'em up to suit

the bloods. Mighty interestin'. I expaict, though, his cookin' would give an outraiged stomach to a

"If you want to follow it up," said I, by way of a sudden experiment, "Miss Molly Wood might have some

But the Virginian did not turn a hair. "I reckon she wouldn't," he answered. "She was raised in Vermont.

They don't bother overly about their eatin' up in Vermont. Hyeh's what Miss Wood recommended the las'

time I was seein' her," the cowpuncher added, bringing Kenilworth from his pocket. "Right fine story. That

"She was," said I. But talk came to an end here. A dusty crew, most evidently from the plains, now entered

and drifted to a table; and each man of them gave the Virginian about a quarter of a slouchy nod. His greeting

to them was very serene. Only, Kenilworth went back into his pocket, and he breakfasted in silence. Among

"Yes. Trampas. He's got a job at the ranch now." The Virginian said no more, but went on with his breakfast.

His appearance was changed. Aged I would scarcely say, for this would seem as if he did not look young. But

I think that the boy was altogether gone from his facethe boy whose freak with Steve had turned Medicine

Bow upside down, whose other freak with the babies had outraged Bear Creek, the boy who had loved to

jingle his spurs. But manhood had only trained, not broken, his youth. It was all there, only obedient to the

"The Judge is doing a right smart o' business this year," he began, very casually indeed, so that I knew this

was important. Besides bells and coal smoke, the smell and crowded sounds of cattle rose in the air around

us. "Hyeh's our first gather o' beeves on the ranch," continued the Virginian. "The whole lot's shipped through

to Chicago in two sections over the Burlington. The Judge is fighting the Elkhorn road." We passed slowly

along the two trains,twenty cars, each car packed with huddled, roundeyed, gazing steers. He examined

to see if any animals were down. "They ain't ate or drank anything to speak of," he said, while the terrified

brutes stared at us through their slats. "Not since they struck the railroad they've not drank. Yu' might suppose

thence know somehow what they're travellin' to Chicago for." And casually, always casually, he told me the

rest. Judge Henry could not spare his foreman away from the second gather of beeves. Therefore these two

tencar trains with their double crew of cowboys had been given to the Virginian's charge. After Chicago,

he was to return by St. Paul over the Northern Pacific; for the Judge had wished him to see certain of the

road's directors and explain to them persuasively how good a thing it would be for them to allow especially

cheap rates to the Sunk Creek outfit henceforth. This was all the Virginian told me; and it contained the

"I don't know about promotion," he replied. "The boys have been used to seein' me one of themselves. Why

don't you come along with us far as Plattsmouth?" Thus he shifted the subject from himself, and called to my

notice the locomotives backing up to his cars, and reminded me that from Plattsmouth I had the choice of two

trains returning. But he could not hide or belittle this confidence of his employer in him. It was the care of

several thousand perishable dollars and the control of men. It was a compliment. There were more steers than

men to be responsible for; but none of the steers had been suddenly picked from the herd and set above his

fellows. Moreover, Chicago finished up the steers; but the newmade deputy foreman had then to lead his six

highly unoccupied brethren away from towns, and back in peace to the ranch, or disappoint the Judge, who

needed their services. These things sometimes go wrong in a land where they say you are all born equal; and

that quarter of a nod in Colonel Cyrus Jones's eating palace held more equality than any whole nod you could

We trundled down the flopping, heavyeddied Missouri to Plattsmouth, and there they backed us on to a

siding, the Christian Endeavor being expected to pass that way. And while the equality absorbed themselves

in a deep but harmless game of poker by the side of the railway line, the Virginian and I sat on the top of a

"Poker? With them kittens?" One flash of the inner man lightened in his eyes and died away, and he finished

with his gentle drawl, "When I play, I want it to be interestin'." He took out Sir Walter's Kenilworth once

more, and turned the volume over and over slowly, without opening it. You cannot tell if in spirit he

wandered on Bear Creek with the girl whose book it was. The spirit will go one road, and the thought

another, and the body its own way sometimes. "Queen Elizabeth would have played a mighty pow'ful game,"

"Victoria'd get pretty nigh slain sliding chips out agaynst Elizabeth. Only mos' prob'ly Victoria she'd insist on

a halfcent limit. You have read this hyeh Kenilworth? Well, deal Elizabeth ace high, an' she could scare

"And," said the Virginian, "if Essex's play got next her too near, I reckon she'd have stacked the cyards. Say,

"Ain't that grand? Why, he makes men talk the way they do in life. I reckon he couldn't get printed today.

It's a right down shame Shakespeare couldn't know about poker. He'd have had Falstaff playing all day at that

"I suppose you know what you're talking about; I don't," said I, for he was drawling again.

The cowpuncher's eye rested a moment amiably upon me. "You can play whist with your brains," he

mused,"brains and cyards. Now cyards are only one o' the manifestations of poker in this hyeh world. One

o' the shapes yu fool with it in when the day's work is oveh. If a man is built like that Prince boy was built

(and it's away down deep beyond brains), he'll play winnin' poker with whatever hand he's holdin' when the

trouble begins. Maybe it will be a mean, triflin' army, or an empty sixshooter, or a lame hawss, or maybe

just nothin' but his natural countenance. 'Most any old thing will do for a fello' like that Prince boy to play

Again the Virginian looked me over amiably. "You put up a mighty pretty game o' whist yourself," he

remarked. "Don't that give you the contented spirit?" And before I had any reply to this, the Christian

Endeavor began to come over the bridge. Three instalments crossed the Missouri from Pacific Junction,

bound for Pike's Peak, every car swathed in bright bunting, and at each window a Christian with a

handkerchief, joyously shrieking. Then the cattle trains got the open signal, and I jumped off. "Tell the Judge

My road to Sunk Creek lay in no straight line. By rail I diverged northwest to Fort Meade, and thence, after

some stay with the kind military people, I made my way on a horse. Up here in the Black Hills it sluiced rain

most intolerably. The horse and I enjoyed the country and ourselves but little; and when finally I changed

from the saddle into a stagecoach, I caught a thankful expression upon the animal's face, and returned the

"Six legs inside this jerky tonight?" said somebody, as I climbed the wheel. "Well, we'll give thanks for not

havin' eight," he added cheerfully. "Clamp your mind on to that, Shorty." And he slapped the shoulder of his

neighbor. Naturally I took these two for old companions. But we were all total strangers. They told me of the

new gold excitement at Rawhide, and supposed it would bring up the Northern Pacific; and when I explained

the millions owed to this road's German bondholders, they were of opinion that a German would strike it

richer at Rawhide. We spoke of all sorts of things, and in our silence I gloated on the autumn holiday

promised me by Judge Henry. His last letter had said that an outfit would be starting for his ranch from

Bilings on the seventh, and he would have a horse for me. This was the fifth. So we six legs in the jerky

travelled harmoniously on over the raingutted road, getting no deeper knowledge of each other than what

Not that we concealed anything. The man who had slapped Shorty introduced himself early. "Scipio le

Moyne, from Gallipolice, Ohio," he said. "The eldest of us always gets called Scipio. It's French. But us folks

have been white for a hundred years." He was limber and lightmuscled, and fell skilfully about, evading

bruises when the jerky reeled or rose on end. He had a strange, long, jocular nose, very warylooking, and a

bleached blue eye. Cattle was his business, as a rule, but of late he had been "looking around some," and

Rawhide seemed much on his brain. Shorty struck me as "looking around" also. He was quite short, indeed,

and the jerky hurt him almost every time. He was lighthaired and mild. Think of a yellow dog that is lost,

and fancies each newcomer in sight is going to turn out his master, and you will have Shorty.

It was the Northern Pacific that surprised us into intimacy. We were nearing Medora. We had made a last

arrangement of our legs. I lay stretched in silence, placid in the knowledge it was soon to end. So I drowsed. I

felt something sudden, and, waking, saw Scipio passing through the air. As Shorty next shot from the jerky, I

beheld smoke and the locomotive. The Northern Pacific had changed its schedule. A valise is a poor

companion for catching a train with. There was rutted sand and lumpy, kneehigh grease wood in our short

cut. A piece of stray wire sprang from some hole and hung caracoling about my ankle. Tin cans spun from

my stride. But we made a conspicuous race. Two of us waved hats, and there was no moment that some one

Perhaps we failed to catch the train's attention, though the theory seems monstrous. As it moved off in our

faces, smooth and easy and insulting, Scipio dropped instantly to a walk, and we two others outstripped him

and came desperately to the empty track. There went the train. Even still its puffs were the separated puffs of

starting, that bittenoff, snorty kind, and sweat and our true natures broke freely forth.

Shorty yielded himself up aloud. All his humble secrets came out of him. He walked aimlessly round,

lamenting. He had lost his job, and he mentioned the ranch. He had played cards, and he mentioned the man.

He had sold his horse and saddle to catch a friend on this train, and he mentioned what the friend had been

going to do for him. He told a string of griefs and names to the air, as if the air knew.

Meanwhile Scipio arrived with extreme leisure at the rails. He stuck his hands into his pockets and his head

out at the very small train. His bleached blue eyes shut to slits as he watched the rear car in its smokeblur

ooze away westward among the mounded bluffs. "Lucky it's out of range," I thought. But now Scipio spoke

"Why, you seem to think you've left me behind," he began easily, in fawning tones. "You're too much of a

kid to have such thoughts. Age some." His next remark grew less wheedling. "I wouldn't be a bit proud to

meet yu'. Why, if I was seen travellin' with yu', I'd have to explain it to my friends! Think you've got me left,

do yu'? Just because yu' ride through this country on a rail, do yu' claim yu' can find your way around? I

could take yu' out ten yards in the brush and lose yu' in ten seconds, you spangleroofed hobo! Leave ME

behind? you recent blanketmortgage yearlin'! You plushlined, nickelplated, whistlin' wash room, d' yu'

figure I can't go east just as soon as west? Or I'll stay right here if it suits me, yu' dudeinhabited hotbox!

Why, yu' coonbossed facetowel" But from here he rose in flights of novelty that appalled and held me

spellbound, and which are not for me to say to you. Then he came down easily again, and finished with

"Do you expaict it could show a male parent offhand?" inquired a slow voice behind us. I jumped round, and

"Why, the piebald son of a gun!" responded the Virginian, sweetly. "I got them steers through all right," he

added to me. "Sorry to see yu' get so out o' breath afteh the train. Is your valise sufferin' any?"

The Southerner sat with a newspaper on the rear platform of a caboose. The caboose stood hitched behind a

mile or so of freight train, and the train was headed west. So here was the deputy foreman, his steers

delivered in Chicago, his men (I could hear them) safe in the caboose, his paper in his lap, and his legs

dangling at ease over the railing. He wore the look of a man for whom things are going smooth. And for me

But from inside the caboose loud laughter and noise broke on us. Some one was reciting "And it's my night to

"We'll all howl when we get to Rawhide," said some other one; and they howled now.

"These hyeh steam cyars," said the Virginian to Scipio, "make a man's language mighty nigh as speedy as his

travel." Of Shorty he took no notice whateverno more than of the manifestations in the caboose.

"So yu' heard me speakin' to the express," said Scipio. "Well, I guess, sometimes ISee here," he exclaimed,

for the Virginian was gravely considering him, "I may have talked some, but I walked a whole lot. You didn't

I was glad I was not Shorty, to have my measure taken merely by my way of missing a train. And of course I

"Oh, I could tell yu'd been enjoyin' us!" said Scipio. "Observin' somebody else's scrape always kind o' rests

me too. Maybe you're a philosopher, but maybe there's a pair of us drawd in this deal."

Approval now grew plain upon the face of the Virginian. "By your laigs," said he, "you are used to the

"By your hands," said the Southerner, again, "you ain't roped many steers lately. Been cookin' or something?"

"Say," retorted Scipio, "tell my future some now. Draw a conclusion from my mouth."

"I'm right distressed," unsevered the gentle Southerner, "we've not a drop in the outfit."

The Virginian glanced where the saloons stood just behind the station, and shook his head.

"Why, it ain't a bit far to whiskey from here!" urged the other, plaintively. "Step down, now. Scipio le

Moyne's my name. Yes, you're lookin' for my brass earrings. But there ain't no earrings on me. I've been

"I'm wild, and woolly, and full of peas; I'm hard to curry above the knees; I'm a shewolf from Bitter Creek,

And as they howled and stamped, the wheels of the caboose began to turn gently and to murmur.

The Virginian rose suddenly. "Will yu' save that thirst and take a fortydollar job?"

At this Scipio looked hard at the Virginian. "Why, you're talkin' business!" said he, and leaped on the

caboose, where I was already. "I WAS thinkin' of Rawhide," he added, "but I ain't any more."

"Get on," called the Virginian. "But as to getting a job, he ain't just like you." So Shorty came, like a lost dog

Our wheels clucked over the mainline switch. A trainhand threw it shut after us, jumped aboard, and

returned forward over the roofs. Inside the caboose they had reached the third howling of the shewolf.

"It's lonesome in there," returned the deputy foreman. And here one of them came out, slamming the door

"Hell!" he said, at sight of the distant town. Then, truculently, to the Virginian, "I told you I was going to get

"Have your bottle, then," said the deputy foreman, and kicked him off into Dakota. (It was not North Dakota

yet; they had not divided it.) The Virginian had aimed his pistol at about the same time with his boot.

Therefore the man sat in Dakota quietly, watching us go away into Montana, and offering no objections. Just

before he became too small to make out, we saw him rise and remove himself back toward the saloons.

"That is the only step I have had to take this whole trip," said the Virginian. He holstered his pistol with a

jerk. "I have been fearing he would force it on me." And he looked at empty, receding Dakota with disgust.

Scipio's bleached eyes brightened with admiration as he considered the Southerner's back. "Well," he stated

judicially, "start awful early when yu' go to fool with him, or he'll make you feel unpunctual."

"I expaict I've had them almost all of three thousand miles," said the Virginian, tilting his head toward the

noise in the caboose. "And I've strove to deliver them back as I received them. The whole lot. And I would

have. But he has spoiled my hopes." The deputy foreman looked again at Dakota. "It's a disappointment," he

I had known a little, but not to the very deep, of the man's pride and purpose in this trust. Scipio gave him

sympathy. "There must be quite a balance of 'em left with yu' yet," said Scipio, cheeringly.

"I had the boys plumb contented," pursued the deputy foreman, hurt into open talk of himself. "Away along

as far as Saynt Paul I had them reconciled to my authority. Then this news about gold had to strike us."

"Fortune is shinin' bright and blindin' to their delicate young eyes," he said, regaining his usual self.

"Energetic, ain't they?" said the Southerner. "But none of 'em was whelped savage enough to sing himself

bloodthirsty. And though they're strainin' mighty earnest not to be tame, they're goin' back to Sunk Creek

with me accordin' to the Judge's awders. Never a calf of them will desert to Rawhide, for all their

dangerousness; nor I ain't goin' to have any fuss over it. Only one is left now that don't sing. Maybe I will

have to make some arrangements about him. The man I have parted with," he said, with another glance at

Scipio gaped wide. "Colonel! Say!" He stared at the Virginian. "Did I meet yu' at the palace?"

"Not exackly meet," replied the Southerner. "I was present one mawnin' las' month when this gentleman

"Sakes and saints, but that was a mean position!" burst out Scipio. "I had to tell all comers anything all day.

Stand up and jump language hot off my brain at 'em. And the pay don't near compensate for the drain on the

system. I don't care how good a man is, you let him keep atappin' his presence of mind right along, without

takin' a layoff, and you'll have him sick. Yes, sir. You'll hit his nerves. So I told them they could hire some

fresh man, for I was goin' back to punch cattle or fight Indians, or take a rest somehow, for I didn't propose to

get jaded, and me only twentyfive years old. There ain't no regular Colonel Cyrus Jones any more, yu'

know. He met a Cheyenne telegraph pole in seventyfour, and was buried. But his palace was doin' big

business, and he had been a kind of attraction, and so they always keep a live bear outside, and some poor

fello', fixed up like the Colonel used to be, inside. And it's a turruble mean position. Course I'll cook for yu'.

"I wasn't right convinced till I kicked him off and you gave that shut to your eyes again," said the Virginian.

Once more the door opened. A man with slim black eyebrows, slim black mustache, and a black shirt tied

"Good day!" he remarked generally and without enthusiasm; and to the Virginian, "Where's Schoffner?"

Trampas looked from one to the other of us again. "Didn't he say he was coming back?"

"He reminded me he was going for a bottle, and afteh that he didn't wait to say a thing."

Trampas looked at the platform and the railing and the steps. "He told me he was coming back," he insisted.

"I don't reckon he has come, not without he clumb up ahaid somewhere. An' I mus' say, when he got off he

At this Scipio coughed, and pared his nails attentively. We had already been avoiding each other's eye. Shorty

The thoughts of Trampas seemed to be in difficulty. "How long's this train been started?" he demanded.

"This hyeh train?" The Virginian consulted his watch. "Why, it's been fanning it a right smart little while,"

"Huh!" went Trampas. He gave the rest of us a final unlovely scrutiny. "It seems to have become a passenger

"Pshaw!" returned the Virginian. "Why, you surely ain't the man to mind ugly mugs when they're hollow!"

The noise inside had dropped quickly to stillness. You could scarcely catch the sound of talk. Our caboose

was clicking comfortably westward, rail after rail, mile upon mile, while night was beginning to rise from

"I wonder if they have sent a search party forward to hunt Schoffner?" said the Virginian. "I think I'll maybe

join their meeting." He opened the door upon them. "Kind o' dark hyeh, ain't it?" said he. And lighting the

"He evidently thinks he will," said I. "He says he will, and he has the courage of his convictions."

"That ain't near enough courage to have!" Scipio exclaimed. "There's times in life when a man has got to have

courage WITHOUT convictionsWITHOUT themor he is no good. Now your friend is that deep

constitooted that you don't know and I don't know what he's thinkin' about all this."

"If there's to be any gunplay," put in the excellent Shorty, "I'll stand in with him."

"Ah, go to bed with your gunplay!" retorted Scipio, entirely goodhumored. "Is the Judge paying for a

carload of dead punchers to gather his beef for him? And this ain't a proposition worth a man's gettin' hurt for

"No," speculated Scipio, as the night drew deeper round us and the caboose clickclucked and clickclucked

over the rail joints; "he's waitin' for somebody else to open this pot. I'll bet he don't know but one thing now,

Scipio had delivered himself. He lighted a cigarette, and no more wisdom came from him. The night was

established. The rolling badlands sank away in it. A trainhand had arrived over the roof, and hanging the

red lights out behind, left us again without remark or symptom of curiosity. The trainhands seemed

interested in their own society and lived in their own caboose. A chill wind with wet in it came blowing from

"That's Montana!" said Scipio, snuffing. "I am glad to have it inside my lungs again."

"Ain't yu' getting cool out there?" said the Virginian's voice. "Plenty room inside."

Perhaps he had expected us to follow him; or perhaps he had meant us to delay long enough not to seem like

a reenforcement. "These gentlemen missed the express at Medora," he observed to his men, simply.

What they took us for upon our entrance I cannot say, or what they believed. The atmosphere of the caboose

was charged with voiceless currents of thought. By way of a friendly beginning to the three hundred miles of

caboose we were now to share so intimately, I recalled myself to them. I trusted no more of the Christian

Endeavor had delayed them. "I am so lucky to have caught you again," I finished. "I was afraid my last

Thus I said a number of things designed to be agreeable, but they met my small talk with the smallest talk

you can have. "Yes," for instance, and " Pretty well, I guess," and grave strikings of matches and thoughtful

looks at the floor. I suppose we had made twenty miles to the imperturbable clicking of the caboose when one

"Well, my gracious!" said a fourth, and beat his knee in private delight. None of them ever looked at me. For

"Why, yes," observed the Virginian, unexpectedly; "they tell me that aiggs there ain't liable to be so rotten as

None of them had a reply for this, and New York was abandoned. For some reason I felt much better.

"Maybe I can give you employment," suggested the Virginian. "I am taking an outfit across the basin."

"You'll find most folks going to Rawhide, if you re looking for company," pursued Trampas, fishing for a

"How about Rawhide, anyway?" said Scipio, skillfully deflecting this missionary work. "Are they taking

"Rock?" broke in the enthusiast who had beaten his knee. "There!" And he brought some from his pocket.

"You're always showing your rock," said Trampas, sulkily; for Scipio now held the conversation, and Shorty

"H'm!" went Scipio at the rock. He turned it back and forth in his hand, looking it over; he chucked and

caught it slightingly in the air, and handed it back. "Porphyry, I see." That was his only word about it. He said

it cheerily. He left no room for discussion. You could not damn a thing worse. "Ever been in Santa Rita?"

pursued Scipio, while the enthusiast slowly pushed his rock back into his pocket. "That's down in New

Mexico. Ever been to Globe, Arizona?" And Scipio talked away about the mines he had known. There was

no getting at Shorty any more that evening. Trampas was foiled of his fish, or of learning how the fish's heart

lay. And by morning Shorty had been carefully instructed to change his mind about once an hour. This is apt

to discourage all but very superior missionaries. And I too escaped for the rest of this night. At Glendive we

had a dim supper, and I bought some blankets; and after that it was late, and sleep occupied the attention of us

We lay along the shelves of the caboose, a peaceful sight I should think, in that smoothly trundling cradle. I

slept almost immediately, so tired that not even our stops or anything else waked me, save once, when the air

I was breathing grew suddenly pure, and I roused. Sitting in the door was the lonely figure of the Virginian.

He leaned in silent contemplation of the occasional moon, and beneath it the Yellowstone's swift ripples. On

the caboose shelves the others slept sound and still, each stretched or coiled as he had first put himself. They

were not untrustworthy to look at, it seemed to meexcept Trampas. You would have said the rest of that

young humanity was average rough male blood, merely needing to be told the proper things at the right time;

and one big bunchy stocking of the enthusiast stuck out of his blanket, solemn and innocent, and I laughed at

it. There was a light sound by the door, and I found the Virginian's eye on me. Finding who it was, he nodded

and motioned with his hand to go to sleep. And this I did with him in my sight, still leaning in the open door,

through which came the interrupted moon and the swimming reaches of the Yellowstone.

It has happened to you, has it not, to wake in the morning and wonder for a while where on earth you are?

Thus I came half to life in the caboose, hearing voices, but not the actual words at first.

This made no special stir in my intelligence, and I drowsed off again to the pleasant rhythm of the wheels. I

he little shock of stopping next brought me to, somewhat, with the voices still round me; and when we were

again in motion, I heard: "Rosebud! Portland 1279!" These figures jarred me awake, and I said, "It was 1291

The greeting they vouchsafed and the sight of them clustering expressionless in the caboose brought last

evening's uncomfortable memory back to me. Our next stop revealed how things were going today.

They were counting the lessening distance westward. This was the undercurrent of war. It broke on me as I

procured fresh water at Forsythe and made some toilet in their stolid presence. We were drawing nearer the

Rawhide stationthe point, I mean, where you left the railway for the new mines. Now Rawhide station lay

this side of Billings. The broad path of desertion would open ready for their feet when the narrow path to duty

and' Sunk Creek was still some fifty miles more to wait. Here was Trampas's great strength; he need make no

move meanwhile, but lie low for the immediate temptation to front and waylay them and win his battle over

the deputy foreman. But the Virginian seemed to find nothing save enjoyment in this sunny September

That meal done and that station gone, our caboose took up again its easy trundle by the banks of the

"What's your scar?" inquired one at length inspecting casually the neck of his neighbor.

"Well, I don't know but I prefer to have myself to thank for a thing," said the first.

"I was displaying myself," continued the second. "One day last summer it was. We come on a big snake by

Torrey Creek corral. The boys got betting pretty lively that I dassent make my word good as to dealing with

him, so I loped my cayuse full tilt by Mr. Snake, and swung down and catched him up by the tail from the

ground, and cracked him same as a whip, and snapped his head off. You've saw it done?" he said to the

"But the loose head flew agin me, and the fangs caught. I was pretty sick for a while."

"It don't pay to be clumsy," said the first man. "If you'd snapped the snake away from yu' instead of toward

"An antelope knows a snake is his enemy," said another to me. "Ever seen a buck circling round and round a

"I have always wanted to see that," said I, heartily. For this I knew to be a respectable piece of truth.

"It's worth seeing," the man went on. "After the buck gets close in, he gives an almighty jump up in the air,

and down comes his four hoofs in a bunch right on top of Mr. Snake. Cuts him all to hash. Now you tell me

Of course I could not tell him. And again we sat in silence for a whilefriendlier silence, I thought.

"A skunk'll kill yu' worse than a snake bite," said another, presently. "No, I don't mean that way," he added.

For I had smiled. "There is a brown skunk down in Arkansaw. Kind of prairiedog brown. Littler than our

variety, he is. And he is mad the whole year round, same as a dog gets. Only the dog has a spell and dies but

this here Arkansaw skunk is mad right along, and it don't seem to interfere with his business in other respects.

Well, suppose you're camping out, and suppose it's a hot night, or you're in a hurry, and you've made camp

late, or anyway you haven't got inside any tent, but you have just bedded down in the open. Skunk comes

travelling along and walks on your blankets. You're warm. He likes that, same as a cat does. And he tramps

with pleasure and comfort, same as a cat. And you move. You get bit, that's all. And you die of hydrophobia.

"No, sir! They're well skunks. Well as anything. You'll not meet skunks in any state of the Union more robust

"That's awful true," sighed another. "I have buried hundreds of dollars' worth of clothes in Arkansaw."

"Why didn't yu' travel in a sponge bag?" inquired Scipio. And this brought a slight silence.

The man wore a wounded look. "I was huntin' owl eggs for a botanist from Boston," he explained to me.

"No, honest," protested the man with the thumb; so that I was sorry for him, and begged him to go on.

"I'll listen to you," I assured him. And I wondered wily this politeness of mine should throw one or two of

them into stifled mirth. Scipio, on the other hand, gave me a disgusted look and sat back sullenly for a

moment, and then took himself out on the platform, where the Virginian was lounging.

"The young feller wore kneepants and ever so thick spectacles with a halfmoon cut in 'em," resumed the

narrator, "and he carried a tin box strung to a strap I took for his lunch till it flew open on him and a horn toad

hustled out. Then I was sure he was a botanistor whatever yu' say they're called. Well, he would have owl

eggsthem little prairieowl that some claim can turn their head clean around and keep awatchin' yu', only

that's nonsense. We was ridin' through that prairiedog town, used to be on the flat just after yu' crossed the

south fork of Powder River on the Buffalo trail, and I said I'd dig an owl nest out for him if he was willing to

camp till I'd dug it. I wanted to know about them owls some myselfif they did live with the dogs and

snakes, yu' know," he broke off, appealing to me. "Oh, yes," I told him eagerly.

"So while the botanist went glarin' around the town with his glasses to see if he could spot a prairiedog and

an owl usin' the same hole, I was diggin' in a hole I'd seen an owl run down. And that's what I got." He held

"Yes, sir. Mr. Rattler was keepin' house that day. Took me right there. I hauled him out of the hole hangin' to

"Yes, woman. Didn't I tell yu' the botanist had his wife along? Well, he did. And she acted better than the

man, for he was rosin' his head, and shoutin' he had no whiskey, and he didn't guess his knife was sharp

enough to amputate my thumb, and none of us chewed, and the doctor was twenty miles away, and if he had

only remembered to bring his ammoniawell, he was screeching out 'most everything he knew in the world,

and without arranging it any, neither. But she just clawed his pocket and burrowed and kep' yelling, 'Give

him the stone, Augustus!' And she whipped out one of them Injun medicinestones,first one I ever

"Sucked. Like blottingpaper does. Soft and funny it was, and gray. They get 'em from elks' stomachs, yu'

know. And when it had sucked the poison out of the wound, off it falls of my thumb by itself! And I thanked

the woman for saving my life that capable and keeping her head that cool. I never knowed how excited she

"I suppose she started to talk when the danger was over," said I, with deep silence around me.

"No; she didn't say nothing to me. But when her next child was born, it had eight rattles."

Din now rose wild in the caboose. They rocked together. The enthusiast beat his knee tumultuously. And I

joined them. Who could help it? It had been so well conducted from the imperceptible beginning. Fact and

falsehood blended with such perfect art. And this last, an effect so new made with such worldold material! I

cared nothing that I was the victim, and I joined them; but ceased, feeling suddenly somehow estranged or

chilled. It was in their laughter. The loudness was too loud. And I caught the eyes of Trampas fixed upon the

Virginian with exultant malevolence. Scipio's disgusted glance was upon me from the door.

Dazed by these signs, I went out on the platform to get away from the noise. There the Virginian said to me:

He said no more; and with his legs dangled over the railing, appeared to resume his newspaper.

"Oh, I don't mind if he don't," Scipio answered. "Couldn't yu' see? I tried to head 'em off from yu' all I knew,

but yu' just ran in among 'em yourself. Couldn't yu' see? Kep' hinderin' and spoilin' me with askin' those

urgent questions of yournwhy, I had to let yu' go your way! Why, that wasn't the ordinary play with the

ordinary tenderfoot they treated you to! You ain't a common tenderfoot this trip. You're the foreman's friend.

They've hit him through you. That's the way they count it. It's made them encouraged. Can't yu' see?"

Scipio stated it plainly. And as we ran by the next station, "Howard!" they harshly yelled. "Portland 1256!"

We had been passing gangs of workmen on the track. And at that last yell the Virginian rose. "I reckon I'll

join the meeting again," he said. "This filling and repairing looks like the washout might have been true."

"Do yu'?" drawled the Virginian. And smiling at Scipio, he lounged in through the open door.

"He beats me," said Scipio, shaking his head. "His trail is turruble hard to anticipate."

"Work bein' done on the road, I see," the Virginian was saying, very friendly and conversational.

"Cheaper to build 'em the way they want 'em at the start, a man would think," suggested the Virginian, most

"Without cheap foreigners they couldn't afford all this hyeh new gradin'," the Southerner continued.

"Why, yes," said the Virginian, sweet as honey. "But 'ain't yu' heard of the improvements west of Big Timber,

"Good moneysavin' scheme, ain't it?" said the Virginian. "Lettin' a freight run down one hill an' up the next

as far as she'll no without steam, an' shavin' the hill down to that point." Now this was an honest engineering

fact. "Better'n settin' dudes squintin' through telescopes and cypherin' over one per cent reductions," the

"It's common sense," assented Trampas. "Have you heard the new scheme about the watertanks?"

They were all sitting over this discussion of the Northern Pacific's recent policy as to betterments, as though

they were the board of directors. Pins could have dropped. Only nobody would have cared to hear a pin.

"You can pump it to the top, though," said Trampas, growing superior. "And it's cheaper."

"Trains after watering can start down hill now and get the benefit of the gravity. It'll cut down operating

"That's cert'nly common sense!" exclaimed the Virginian, absorbed. "But ain't it kind o' tardy?"

"Live and learn. So they gained speed, too. High speed on half the coal this season, until the accident."

"Yellowstone Limited. Man fired at engine driver. Train was flying past that quick the bullet broke every

window and killed a passenger on the back platform. You've been running too much with aristocrats,"

"Haw, hew!" began the enthusiast, but his neighbor gripped him to silence. This was a triumph too serious for

"Shorty!" said Scipio, sternly, and leaping upon that youth, took his halfdrawn pistol from him.

"I'm obliged to yu'," said the Virginian to Scipio. Trampas's hand left his belt. He threw a slight, easy look at

his men, and keeping his back to the Virginian, walked out on the platform and sat on the chair where the

"Don't you comprehend," said the Virginian to Shorty, amiably, "that this hyeh question has been discussed

peaceable by civilized citizens? Now you sit down and be good, and Mr. Le Moyne will return your gun

when we're across that broken bridge, if they have got it fixed for heavy trains yet."

"This train will be lighter when it gets to that bridge," spoke Trampas, out on his chair.

"Why, that's true, too!" said the Virginian. "Maybe none of us are crossin' that Big Horn bridge now, except

me. Funny if yu' should end by persuadin' me to quit and go to Rawhide myself! But I reckon I'll not. I

"I'm right obliged. But yu' seeI ain't exackly foreman the way this comes out, and my promises might not

A push came through the train from forward. We were slowing for the Rawhide station, and all began to be

busy and to talk. "Going up to the mines today?" "Oh, let's grub first." "Guess it's too late, anyway." And so

forth; while they rolled and roped their bedding, and put on their coats with a good deal of elbow motion, and

otherwise showed off. It was wasted. The Virginian did not know what vitas going on in the caboose. He was

leaning and looking out ahead, and Scipio's puzzled eye never left him. And as we halted for the watertank,

the Southerner exclaimed, "They 'ain t got away yet!" as if it were good news to him.

He meant the delayed trains. Four stalled expresses were in front of us, besides several freights. And two

Travellers stood and sat about forlorn, near the cars, out in the sagebrush, anywhere. People in hats and

spurs watched them, and Indian chiefs offered them painted bows and arrows and shiny horns.

"I reckon them passengers would prefer a laig o' mutton," said the Virginian to a man loafing near the

"Well," said the Virginian, looking at the town, "I expaict the diningcyars contained more nourishment."

"Say, you're about right there!" said the man. He walked beside the caboose as we puffed slowly forward

from the watertank to our siding. "Fine business here if we'd only been ready," he continued. "And the Crow

agent has let his Indians come over from the reservation. There has been a little beef brought in, and game,

and fish. And big money in it, bet your life! Them Eastern passengers has just been robbed. I wisht I had

"Anything starting for Rawhide this afternoon?" said Trampas, out of the caboose door.

"Not until morning," said the man. "You going to the mines?" he resumed to the Virginian.

"Why," answered the Southerner, slowly and casually, and addressing himself strictly to the man, while

Trampas, on his side, paid obvious inattention, "this hyeh delay, yu' see, may unsettle our plans some. But it'll

be one of two ways,we're all goin' to Rawhide, or we're all goin' to Billings. We're all one party, yu' see."

Trampas laughed audibly inside the door as he rejoined his men. "I et him keep up appearances," I heard him

"But I'm goin' to eat hearty either way," continued the Virginian. "And I ain' goin' to be robbed. I've been

"So yu' tell me. But all you folks has forgot one source of revenue that yu' have right close by, mighty handy.

"Mr. Le Moyne," said the Virginian, "the outfit's cookin' stuff is aboard, and if you'll get the fire ready, we'll

try how frawgs' laigs go fried." He walked off at once, the man following like a dog. Inside the caboose rose

"Colonel Cyrus Jones had them on his bill of fare," I said. "'FROGS' LEGS A LA DELMONICO.'"

"Shoo! I didn't get up that thing. They had it when I came. Never looked at it. Frogs?" He went down the

steps very slowly, with a long frown. Reaching the ground, he shook his head. "That man's trail is surely hard

to anticipate," he said. "But I must hurry up that fire. For his appearance has given me encouragement,"

Scipio concluded, and became brisk. Shorty helped him, and I brought wood. Trampas and the other people

Our little fire was built beside the caboose, so the cooking things might be easily reached and put back. You

would scarcely think such operations held any interest, even for the hungry, when there seemed to be nothing

to cook. A few sticks blazing tamely in the dust, a fryingpan, half a tin bucket of lard, some water, and

barren plates and knives and forks, and three silent men attending to themthat was all. But the travellers

came to see. These waifs drew near us, and stood, a sad, lore, shifting fringe of audience; four to begin with;

and then two wandered away; and presently one of these came back, finding it worse elsewhere. "Supper,

boys?" said he. "Breakfast," said Scipio, crossly. And no more of them addressed us. I heard them joylessly

mention Wall Street to each other, and Saratoga; I even heard the name Bryn Mawr, which is near

Philadelphia. But these fragments of home dropped in the wilderness here in Montana beside a freight

"Looks like frogs down there, too," said Scipio. "See them marshy slogs full of weeds?" We took a little turn

and had a sight of the Virginian quite active among the ponds. "Hush! I'm getting some thoughts," continued

"No. But I'd 'most caught ahold." And Scipio muttered to himself again, "He wasn't sorry enough."

Presently he swore loud and brilliantly. "Tell yu'!" he cried. "What did he say to Trampas after that play they

exchanged over railroad improvements and Trampas put the josh on him? Didn't he say, ' Trampas, I thought

you'd be afraid to do it?' Well, sir, Trampas had better have been afraid. And that's what he meant. There's

where he was bringin' it to Trampas made an awful bad play then. You wait. Glory, but he's a knowin' man!

Course he wasn't sorry. I guess he had the hardest kind of work to look as sorry as he did. You wait."

"I don't know! I don't know! Whatever hand he's been holdin' up, this is the showdown. He's played for a

showdown here before the caboose gets off the bridge. Come back to the fire, or Shorty'll be leavin' it go

out. Grow happy some, Shorty!" he cried on arriving, and his hand cracked on Shorty's shoulder. "Supper's in

"We're figuring on that too," said Scipio. His crossness had melted entirely away.

From the station Trampas now came back, his herd following him less compactly. They had found famine,

and no hope of supplies until the next train from the East. This was no fault of Trampas's; but they were

following him less compactly. They carried one piece of cheese, the size of a fist, the weight of a brick, the

hue of a corpse. And the passengers, seeing it, exclaimed, "There's Old Faithful again!" and took off their

"It's been offered me three times a day for four days," said the passenger. "Did he want a dollar or a dollar

"Two dollars!" blurted out the enthusiast. And all of us save Trampas fell into fits of imbecile laughter.

"Here comes our grub, anyway," said Scipio, looking off toward the marshes. And his hilarity sobered away

"Well, the train will be in soon," stated Trampas. "I guess we'll get a decent supper without frogs."

All interest settled now upon the Virginian. He was coming with his man and his gunny sack, and the gunny

sack hung from his shoulder heavily, as a full sack should. He took no notice of the gathering, but sat down

and partly emptied the sack. "There," said he, very businesslike, to his assistant, "that's all we'll want. I think

"Oh, I'm fool enough for a tadpole!" cried the passenger. And they began to take out their pocketbooks.

"You can cook yours right hyeh, gentlemen," said the Virginian, with his slow Southern courtesy. "The

The Virginian looked at him with friendly surprise. "Why, help yourself! We're all together yet awhile. Help

yourselves," he repeated, to Trampas and his followers. These hung back a moment, then, with a slinking

motion, set the cheese upon the earth and came forward nearer the fire to receive some supper.

"It won't scarcely be Delmonico style," said the Virginian to the passengers, "nor yet Saynt Augustine." He

meant the great Augustin, the traditional chef of Philadelphia, whose history I had sketched for him at

Scipio now officiated. His fryingpan was busy, and prosperous odors rose from it.

"Run for a bucket of fresh water, Shorty," the Virginian continued, beginning his meal. "Colonel, yu' cook

pretty near good. If yu' had sold 'em as advertised, yu'd have cert'nly made a name."

Several were now eating with satisfaction, but not Scipio. It was all that he could do to cook straight. The

whole man seemed to glisten. His eye was shut to a slit once more, while the innocent passengers thankfully

"Now, you see, you have made some money," began the Virginian to the native who had helped him get the

"Bet your life!" exclaimed the man. "Divvy, won't you?" And he held out half his gains.

"Keep 'em," returned the Southerner. "I reckon we're square. But I expaict they'll not equal Delmonico's,

"Don't trust the judgment of a man as hungry as I am!" exclaimed the traveller, with a laugh. And he turned to

his fellowtravellers. "Did you ever enjoy supper at Delmonico's more than this?"

"Why, look here," said the traveller, "what fools the people of this town are! Here we've been all these

"That's right easy explained," said the Virginian. "I've been where there was big money in frawgs, and they

'ain't been. They're all cattle hyeh. Talk cattle, think cattle, and they're bankrupt in consequence. Fallen

"It's mighty hard to do what your neighbors ain't doin'," pursued the Virginian. "Montana is all cattle, an'

these folks must be cattle, an' never notice the country right hyeh is too small for a range, an' swampy,

"I'm not claimin' to be smarter than you folks hyeh," said the Virginian, deprecatingly, to his assistant. "But

travellin' learns a man many customs. You wouldn't do the business they done at Tulare, California, north

side o' the lake. They cert'nly utilized them hopeless swamps splendid. Of course they put up big capital and

went into it scientific, gettin' advice from the government Fish Commission, an' such like knowledge. Yu'

see, they had big markets for their frawgs,San Francisco, Los Angeles, and clear to New York afteh the

Southern Pacific was through. But up hyeh yu' could sell to passengers every day like yu' done this one day.

They would get to know yu' along the line. Competing swamps are scarce. The diningcyars would take your

frawgs, and yu' would have the Yellowstone Park for four months in the year. Them hotels are anxious to

please, an' they would buy off yu' what their Eastern patrons esteem as fineeatin'. And you folks would be

"How much would be paid for frogs?" said Trampas to him. And I saw Scipio bend closer to his cooking.

"I was not thinking of Tulare," Trampas retorted. Scipio's nose was in the fryingpan.

"Mos' comical spot you ever struck!" said the Virginian, looking round upon the whole company. He allowed

himself a broad smile of retrospect. "To hear 'em talk frawgs at Tulare! Same as other folks talks hawsses or

steers or whatever they're raising to sell. Yu'd fall into it yourselves if yu' started the business. Anything a

man's bread and butter depends on, he's going to be earnest about. Don't care if it is a frawg."

"The only money in the county was right there," answered the Virginian. "It was a dead county, and only

frawgs was movin'. But that business was afannin' to beat four of a kind. It made yu' feel strange at first, as I

said. For all the men had been cattlemen at one time or another. Till yu' got accustomed, it would give 'most

anybody a shock to hear 'em speak about herdin' the bulls in a pasture by themselves." The Virginian allowed

himself another smile, but became serious again. "That was their policy," he explained. "Except at certain

times o' year they kept the bulls separate. The Fish Commission told 'em they'd better, and it cert'nly worked

mighty well. It or something didfor, gentlemen, hush! but there was millions. You'd have said all the

frawgs in the world had taken charge at Tulare. And the money rolled in! Gentlemen, hush! 'twas a gold mine

for the owners. Forty per cent they netted some years. And they paid generous wages. For they could sell to

all them French restaurants in San Francisco, yu' see. And there was the Cliff House. And the Palace Hotel

made it a specialty. And the officers took frawgs at the Presidio, an' Angel Island, an' Alcatraz, an' Benicia.

Los Angeles was beginnin' its boom. The cornerlot sharps wanted something by way of varnish. An' so they

dazzled Eastern investors with advertisin' Tulare frawgs clear to New Orleans an' New York. 'Twas only in

Sacramento frawgs was dull. I expaict the California legislature was too or'n'ry for them fineraised luxuries.

They tell of one of them senators that he raked a million out of Los Angeles real estate, and started in for a

bangup meal with champagne. Wanted to scatter his new gold thick an' quick. But he got astray among all

the fancy dishes, an' just yelled right out before the ladies, 'Damn it! bring me forty dollars' worth of ham and

The Virginian paused, and finished eating a leg. And then with diabolic art he made a feint at wandering to

"How much did you say wages were at Tulare?" inquired one of the Trampas faction.

"How much? Why, I never knew what the foreman got. The regular hands got a hundred. Senator Wise"

"Why, it was wet an' muddy work, yu' see. A man risked rheumatism some. He risked it a good deal. Well, I

was going to tell about Senator Wise. When Senator Wise was speaking of his visit to Alaska"

"Oh, I must call my wife'" said the traveller behind me. "This is what I came West for." And he hurried away.

"Not forty per cent the bad years," replied the Virginian. "The frawgs had enemies, same as cattle. I

remember when a pelican got in the spring pasture, and the herd broke through the fence"

"Ditch, seh, and wire net. Every pasture was a square swamp with a ditch around, and a wire net. Yu've heard

the mournful, mixedup sound a big bunch of cattle will make? Well, seh, as yu' druv from the railroad to the

Tulare frawg ranch yu' could hear 'em a mile. Springtime they'd sing like girls in the organ loft, and by

August they were about ready to hire out for bass. And all was fit to be soloists, if I'm a judge. But in a bad

year it might only be twenty per cent. The pelican rushed 'em from the pasture right into the San Joaquin

River, which was close by the property. The big balance of the herd stampeded, and though of course they

came out on the banks again, the news had went around, and folks below at Hemlen eat most of 'em just to

spite the company. Yu' see, a frawg in a river is more hopeless than any maverick loose on the range. And

"Well, twenty per cent is good enough for me," said Trampas, "if Rawhide don't suit me."

"A hundred a month!" said the enthusiast. And busy calculations began to arise among them.

"It went to fifty per cent," pursued the Virginian, "when New York and Philadelphia got to biddin' agaynst

each other. Both cities had signs all over 'em claiming to furnish the Tulare frawg. And both had 'em all right.

And same as cattle trains, yu'd see frawg trains tearing acrosst Arizonabig glass tanks with wire over

"Why, George," whispered a woman's voice behind me, "he's merely deceiving them! He's merely making

"Well, I don't see why you imagined I should care for this. I think I'll go back."

"Better see it out, Daisy. This beats the geysers or anything we're likely to find in the Yellowstone."

"Then I wish we had gone to Bar Harbor as usual," said the lady, and she returned to her Pullman.

But her husband stayed. Indeed, the male crowd now was a goodly sight to see, how the men edged close,

drawn by a common tie. Their different kinds of feet told the strength of the bondyellow sleepingcar

slippers planted miscellaneous and motionless near a pair of Mexican spurs. All eyes watched the Virginian

and gave him their entire sympathy. Though they could not know his motive for it, what he was doing had

fallen as light upon themall except the excited calculators. These were loudly making their fortunes at both

Rawhide and Tulare, drugged by their satanically aroused hopes of gold, heedless of the slippers and the

spurs. Had a man given any sign to warn them, I think he would have been lynched. Even the Indian chiefs

had come to see in their show war bonnets and blankets. They naturally understood nothing of it, yet

magnetically knew that the Virginian was the great man. And they watched him with approval. He sat by the

fire with the fryingpan, looking his daily selfengaging and saturnine. And now as Trampas declared

tickets to California would be dear and Rawhide had better come first, the Southerner let loose his

"There's a better reason for Rawhide than tickets, Trampas," said he. "I said it was too late for Tulare."

"I heard you," said Trampas. "Opinions may differ. You and I don't think alike on several points.

"Gawd, Trampas!" said the Virginian, "d' yu' reckon I'd be rotting hyeh on forty dollars if Tulare was like it

"Revenge broke it, and disease," said the Virginian, striking the fryingpan on his knee, for the frogs were all

gone. At those lurid words their untamed child minds took fire, and they drew round him again to hear a tale

But for a short moment it threatened to be spoiled. A passenger came along, demanding in an important

voice, "Where are these frogs?" He was a prominent New York afterdinner speaker, they whispered me, and

out for a holiday in his private car. Reaching us and walking to the Virginian, he said cheerily, "How much

"You got a friend hyeh?" said the Virginian. "That's good, for yu' need care taken of yu'." And the prominent

"Yes, it was a case of revenge," resumed the Virginian, "and disease. There was a man named Saynt

Augustine got run out of Domingo, which is a Dago island. He come to Philadelphia, an' he was dead broke.

But Saynt Augustine was a live man, an' he saw Philadelphia was full o' Quakers that dressed plain an' eat

humdrum. So he started cookin' Domingo way for 'em, an' they caught right ahold. Terrapin, he gave 'em, an'

croakeets, an' he'd use forty chickens to make a broth he called consommay. An' he got rich, and Philadelphia

got well known, an' Delmonico in New York he got jealous. He was the cook that had the sayso in New

"I don't know. But he acted like one. Lorenzo was his front name. He aimed to cut"

"Domingo's throat?" breathed the enthusiast. "Aimed to cut away the trade from Saynt Augustine an' put

Philadelphia back where he thought she belonged. Frawgs was the fashionable rage then. These foreign cooks

set the fashion in eatin', same as foreign dressmakers do women's clothes. Both cities was catchin' and

"Yes, Lorenzo Delmonico. He bid a dollar a tank higher. An' Saynt Augustine raised him fifty cents. An'

Lorenzo raised him a dollar An' Saynt Augustine shoved her up three Lorenzo he didn't expect Philadelphia

would go that high, and he got hot in the collar, an' flew round his kitchen in New York, an' claimed he'd

twist Saynt Augustine's Domingo tail for him and crack his ossified system. Lorenzo raised his language to a

high temperature, they say. An' then quite sudden off he starts for Tulare. He buys tickets over the Santa Fe,

and he goes afannin' and afoggin'. But, gentlemen, hush! The very same day Saynt Augustine he tears out

of Philadelphia. He travelled by the way o' Washington, an' out he comes afannin' an' afoggin' over the

Southern Pacific. Of course Tulare didn't know nothin' of this. All it knowed was how the frawg market was

on soarin' wings, and it vitas feelin' like a flight o' rawckets. If only there'd been some preparation,a

telegram or something,the disaster would never have occurred. But Lorenzo and Saynt Augustine was that

absorbed watchin' each otherfor, yu' see, the Santa Fe and the Southern Pacific come together at Mojave,

an' the two cooks travelled a matter of two hundred an' ten miles in the same cyarthey never thought about

a telegram. And when they arruv, breathless, an' started in to screechin' what they'd give for the monopoly,

why, them unsuspectin' Tulare boys got amused at 'em. I never heard just all they done, but they had Lorenzo

singin' and dancin', while Saynt Augustine played the fiddle for him. And one of Lorenzo's heels did get a

trifle grazed. Well, them two cooks quit that ranch without disclosin' their identity, and soon as they got to a

safe distance they swore eternal friendship, in their excitable foreign way. And they went home over the

Union Pacific, sharing the same stateroom. Their revenge killed frawgs. The disease"

"Just killed 'em. Delmonico and Saynt Augustine wiped frawgs off the slate of fashion. Not a banker in Fifth

Avenue'll touch one now if another banker's around watchin' him. And if ever yu' see a man that hides his feet

an' won't take off his socks in company, he has worked in then Tulare swamps an' got the disease. Catch him

wadin', and yu'll find he's webfooted. Frawgs are dead, Trampas, and so are you."

"Rise up, liars, and salute your king!" yelled Scipio. "Oh, I'm in love with you!" And he threw his arms round

"Let me shake hands with you," said the traveller, who had failed to interest his wife in these things. "I wish I

Other passengers greeted him, and the Indian chiefs came, saying, "How!" because they followed their

"Don't show so humbled, boys," said the deputy foreman to his most sheepish crew. "These gentlemen from

the East have been enjoying yu' some, I know. But think what a weary wait they have had hyeh. And you

insisted on playing the game with me this way, yu' see. What outlet did yu' give me? Didn't I have it to do?

And I'll tell yu' one thing for your consolation: when I got to the middle of the frawgs I 'most believed it

The enthusiast came up and shook hands. That led off, and the rest followed, with Trampas at the end. The

tide was too strong for him. He was not a graceful loser; but he got through this, and the Virginian eased him

down by treating him precisely like the othersapparently. Possibly the supremethe most

Americanmoment of all was when word came that the bridge was open, and the Pullman trains, with noise

and triumph, began to move westward at last. Every one waved farewell to every one, craning from steps and

windows, so that the cars twinkled with hilarity; and in twenty minutes the whole procession in front had

"Last chance for Sunk Creek," said a reconstructed mutineer, and all sprang aboard. There was no question

Our caboose trundled on to Billings along the shingly cottonwooded Yellowstone; and as the plains and

bluffs and the distant snow began to grow well known, even to me, we turned to our baggage that was to

come off, since camp would begin in the morning. Thus I saw the Virginian carefully rewrapping Kenilworth,

that he might bring it to its owner unharmed; and I said, "Don't you think you could have played poker with

It was at Billings, on this day, that I made those reflections about equality. For the Virginian had been equal

Into what mood was it that the Virginian now fell? Being less busy, did he begin to "grieve" about the girl on

Bear Creek? I only know that after talking so lengthily he fell into a nine days' silence. The talking part of

Official words of course came from him as we rode southward from the railroad, gathering the Judge's stray

cattle. During the many weeks since the spring roundup, some of these animals had as usual got very far off

their range, and getting them on again became the present business of our party.

Directions and commandswhatever communications to his subordinates were needful to the forwarding of

thishe duly gave. But routine has never at any time of the world passed for conversation. His utterances,

such as, "We'll work Willo' Creek tomorro' mawnin'," or, "I want the wagon to be at the fawks o' Stinkin'

Water by Thursday," though on some occasions numerous enough to sound like discourse, never once broke

the man's true silence. Seeming to keep easy company with the camp, he yet kept altogether to himself. That

talking part of himthe mood which brings out for you your friend's spirit and mind as a free gift or as an

exchangewas down in some dark cave of his nature, hidden away. Perhaps it had been dreaming; perhaps

completely reposing. The Virginian was one of those rare ones who are able to refresh themselves in sections.

To have a thing on his mind did not keep his body from resting. During our recent journeyit felt years ago

now!while our caboose on the freight train had trundled endlessly westward, and the men were on the

ragged edge, the very jumpingoff place, of mutiny and possible murder, I had seen him sleep like a child.

He snatched the moments not necessary for vigil I had also seen him sit all night watching his responsibility,

ready to spring on it and fasten his teeth in it. And now that he had confounded them with their own

attempted weapon of ridicule, his powers seemed to be profoundly dormant. That final pitched battle of wits

had made the men his captives and admirersall save Trampas. And of him the Virginian did not seem to be

But Scipio le Moyne would say to me now and then, "If I was Trampas, I'd pull my freight." And once he

"Yes," our friend Shorty murmured pregnantly, with his eye upon the quiet Virginian, "he's sure studying his

"Studying your pussycat," said Scipio. "He knows what he'll do. The time 'ain't arrived." This was the way

they felt about it; and not unnaturally this was the way they made me, the inexperienced Easterner, feel about

it. That Trampas also felt something about it was easy to know. Like the leaven which leavens the whole

lump, one spot of sulkiness in camp will spread its dull flavor through any company that sits near it; and we

His sullenness was not wonderful. To feel himself forsaken by his recent adherents, to see them gone over to

his enemy, could not have made his reflections pleasant. Why he did not take himself off to other

climes"pull his freight casual," as Scipio saidI can explain only thus: pay was due him"time," as it

was called in cowland; if he would have this money, he must stay under the Virginian's command until the

Judge's ranch on Sunk Creek should be reached; meanwhile, each day's work added to the wages in store for

him; and finally, once at Sunk Creek, it would be no more the Virginian who commanded him; it would be

the real ranch foreman. At the ranch he would be the Virginian's equal again, both of them taking orders from

their officially recognized superior, this foreman. Shorty's word about "revenge" seemed to me like putting

the thing backwards. Revenge, as I told Scipio, was what I should be thinking about if I were Trampas.

"He dassent," was Scipio's immediate view. "Not till he's got strong again. He got laughed plumb sick by the

bystanders, and whatever spirit he had was broke in the presence of us all. He'll have to recuperate." Scipio

then spoke of the Virginian's attitude. "Maybe revenge ain't just the right word for where this affair has got to

now with him. When yu' beat another man at his own game like he done to Trampas, why, yu've had all the

revenge yu' can want, unless you're a hog. And he's no hog. But he has got it in for Trampas. They've not

reckoned to a finish. Would you let a man try such spitework on you and quit thinkin' about him just because

yu'd headed him off?" To this I offered his own notion about hogs and being satisfied. "Hogs!" went on

Scipio, in a way that dashed my suggestion to pieces; "hogs ain't in the case. He's got to deal with Trampas

somehowman to man. Trampas and him can't stay this way when they get back and go workin' same as

they worked before. No, sir; I've seen his eye twice, and I know he's goin' to reckon to a finish."

I still must, in Scipio's opinion, have been slow to understand, when on the afternoon following this talk I

invited him to tell me what sort of "finish" he wanted, after such a finishing as had been dealt Trampas

already. Getting "laughed plumb sick by the bystanders" (I borrowed his own not overstated expression)

seemed to me a highly final finishing. While I was running my notions off to him, Scipio rose, and, with the

"I do believe you'd oughtn't to be let travel alone the way you do." He put his face close to mine. His long

nose grew eloquent in its shrewdness, while the fire in his bleached blue eye burned with amiable satire.

"What has come and gone between them two has only settled the one point he was aimin' to make. He was

appointed boss of this outfit in the absence of the regular foreman. Since then all he has been playin' for is to

hand back his men to the ranch in as good shape as they'd been handed to him, and without losing any on the

road through desertion or shooting or what not. He had to kick his cook ok the train that day, and the loss

made him sorrowful, I could see. But I'd happened to come along, and he jumped me into the vacancy, and I

expect he is pretty near consoled. And as boss of the outfit he beat Trampas, who was settin' up for opposition

boss. And the outfit is better than satisfied it come out that way, and they're stayin' with him; and he'll hand

them all back in good condition, barrin' that lost cook. So for the present his point is made, yu' see. But look

ahead a little. It may not be so very far ahead yu'll have to look. We get back to the ranch. He's not boss there

any more. His responsibility is over. He is just one of us again, taking orders from a foreman they tell me has

showed partiality to Trampas more'n a few times. Partiality! That's what Trampas is plainly trusting to.

Trusting it will fix him all right and fix his enemy all wrong. He'd not otherwise dare to keep sour like he's

doing. Partiality! D' yu' think it'll scare off the enemy?" Scipio looked across a little creek to where the

Virginian was helping threw the gathered cattle on the bedground. "What odds "he pointed the fryingpan

at the Southerner"d' yu' figure Trampas's being under any foreman's wing will make to a man like him?

He's going to remember Mr. Trampas and his spitework if he's got to tear him out from under the wing, and

maybe tear off the wing in the operation. And I am goin' to advise your folks," ended the complete Scipio,

He had made me feel my inexperience, convinced me of innocence, undoubtedly; and during the final days of

our journey I no longer invoked his aid to my reflections upon this especial topic: What would the Virginian

do to Trampas? Would it be another intellectual crushing of him, like the frog story, or would there be

something this time more materialsay muscle, or possibly gunpowderin it? And was Scipio, after all,

infallible? I didn't pretend to understand the Virginian; after several years' knowledge of him he remained

utterly beyond me. Scipio's experience was not yet three weeks long. So I let him alone as to all this,

discussing with him most other things good and evil in the world, and being convinced of much further

innocence; for Scipio's twenty odd years were indeed a library of life. I have never met a better heart, a

shrewder wit, and looser morals, with yet a native sense of decency and duty somewhere hard and fast

But all the while I was wondering about the Virginian: eating with him, sleeping with him (only not so sound

Experiments in conversation I did makeand failed. One day particularly while, after a sudden storm of hail

had chilled the earth numb and white like winter in fifteen minutes, we sat drying and warming ourselves by

a fire that we built, I touched upon that theme of equality on which I knew him to hold opinions as strong as

mine. "Oh," he would reply, and "Cert'nly"; and when I asked him what it was in a man that made him a

leader of men, he shook his head and puffed his pipe. So then, noticing how the sun had brought the earth in

So I had to tell him. "It has made successful politcians of the Irish. That's one. And it has given our whole

"Yes," he drawled slowly, "I'd ought to have done it sooner. He was pretty near lively again." And then he

picked up a rattlesnake six feet behind me. It had been numbed by the hail, part revived by the sun, and he

After this I gave up my experiments in conversation. So that by the final afternoon of our journey, with Sunk

Creek actually in sight, and the great grasshoppers slatting their dry song over the sagebrush, and the time at

hand when the Virginian and Trampas would be "man to man," my thoughts rose to a considerable pitch of

And now that talking part of the Virginian, which had been nine days asleep, gave its first yawn and stretch

I was mentally so far away that I couldn't get back in time to comprehend or answer before he had

He drawled it out in his gentle way, precisely as if no nine days stood between it and our last real intercourse.

It was with an "Oh!" that I now entirely took his idea. "Well, yes; decidedly the biggest."

"Beats the English one? Archbishopain't it?of Canterbury? The Pope comes ahead of him?"

The Virginian turned half in his saddle to see my faceI was, at the moment, riding not quite abreast of

himand I saw the gleam of his teeth beneath his mustache. It was seldom I could make him smile, even to

this slight extent. But his eyes grew, with his next words, remote again in their speculation.

"His Holiness and his Grace. Now if I was to hear 'em namin' me thataway every mawnin', I'd sca'cely get

"'Tisn't the pride. The laugh is what would ruin me. 'Twould take 'most all my attention keeping a straight

face. The Archbishop"here he took one of his wide mental turns"is apt to be a big man in them

Shakespeare plays. Kings take talk from him they'd not stand from anybody else; and he talks fine,

frequently. About the bees, for instance, when Henry is going to fight France. He tells him a beehive is

similar to a kingdom. I learned that piece." The Virginian could not have expected to blush at uttering these

last words. He knew that his sudden color must tell me in whose book it was he had learned the piece Was

not her copy of Kenilworth even now In his cherishing pocket? So he now, to cover his blush, very

deliberately recited to me the Archbishop's discourse upon bees and their kingdom:

"'Where some, like magistrates, correct at home... Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make loot upon

the summer's velvet buds; Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tentroyal of their

emperor: He, busied in his majesty, surreys The singing masons building roofs of gold.'

"Ain't that a fine description of bees aworkin'? 'The singing masons building roofs of gold!' Puts 'em right

before yu', and is poetry without bein' foolish. His Holiness and his Grace. Well, they could not hire me for

"Yu' can begin with ourselves. Right hyeh at home I know there's Romanists, and Episcopals"

I accordingly did it, feeling my revolving memory slip cogs all the way round. "Anyhow, there are safely

"Fifteen." He held this fact a moment. "And they don't worship a whole heap o' different gods like the

The Virginian folded his hands over the horn of his saddle, and leaned forward upon them in contemplation

"One God and fifteen religions," was his reflection. "That's a right smart of religions for just one God."

This way of reducing it was, if obvious to him, so novel to me that my laugh evidently struck him as a louder

and livelier comment than was required. He turned on me as if I had somehow perverted the spirit of his

"Do you think there ought to be fifteen varieties of good people?" His voice, while it now had an edge that

could cut anything it came against, was still not raised. "There ain't fifteen. There ain't two. There's one kind.

And when I meet it, I respect it. It is not praying nor preaching that has ever caught me and made me

ashamed of myself, but one or two people I have knowed that never said a superior word to me They thought

more o' me than I deserved, and that made me behave better than I naturally wanted to. Made me quit a girl

onced in time for her not to lose her good name. And so that's one thing I have never done. And if ever I was

to have a son or somebody I set store by, I would wish their lot to be to know one or two good folks mighty

He had looked away again to the hills behind Sunk Creek ranch, to which our walking horses had now almost

"As for parsons "the gesture of his arm was a disclaiming one"I reckon some parsons have a right to tell

yu' to be good. The bishop of this hyeh Territory has a right. But I'll tell yu' this: a middlin' doctor is a pore

thing, and a middlin' lawyer is a pore thing; but keep me from a middlin' man of God."

Once again he had reduced it, but I did not laugh this time. I thought there should in truth be heavy damages

for malpractice on human souls. But the hot glow of his words, and the vision of his deepest inner man it

"What do yu' make of the proposition yondeh?" As he pointed to the cause of this question he had become

Then I saw over in a fenced meadow, to which we were now close, what he was pleased to call "the

proposition." Proposition in the West does, in fact, mean whatever you at the moment please,an offer to

sell you a mine, a cloudburst, a glass of whiskey, a steamboat. This time it meant a stranger clad in black,

and of a clerical deportment which would in that atmosphere and to a watchful eye be visible for a mile or

"I reckoned yu' hadn't noticed him," was the Virginian's reply to my ejaculation. "Yes. He set me goin' on the

I seemed from a hundred yards to feel the stranger's forceful personality. It was in his walkI should better

say stalkas he promenaded along the creek. His hands were behind his back, and there was an air of

"Yes, he'll be a missionary," said the Virginian, conclusively; and he took to singing, or rather to whining,

"'Dar is a big Car'lina nigger, About de size of dis chile or p'raps a little bigger, By de name of Jim Crow. Dat

what de white folks call him. If ever I sees hint I 'tends for to maul him, Just to let de white folks see Such an

The lane which was conducting us to the group of ranch buildings now turned a corner of the meadow, and

"'Great big fool, he hasn't any knowledge. Gosh! how could he, when he's never been to scollege? Neither has

He was beginning a third stanza, but stopped short; a horse had neighed close behind us.

"It looks that way." Some ten yards were between ourselves and Trampas, where he followed.

"I don't know as it's your rope I've got." Trampas skilfully spoke this so that a precisely opposite meaning

If it was discussion he tried for, he failed. The Virginian's hand moved, and for one thick, flashing moment

my thoughts were evidently also the thoughts of Trampas. But the Virginian only held out to Trampas the

"Take your hand off your gun, Trampas. If I had wanted to kill yu' you'd be lying nine days back on the road

now. Here's your rope. Did yu' expect I'd not know it? It's the only one in camp the stiffness ain't all drug out

The Virginian wheeled his horse across the road. "Yu're talkin' too soon after reachin' safety, Trampas. I

didn't tell yu' to hand me that rope this mawnin', because I was busy. I ain't foreman now; and I want that

Trampas produced a smile as skilful as his voice. "Well, I guess your having mine proves this one is yours."

He rode up and received the coil which the Virginian held out, unloosing the disputed one on his saddle. If he

had meant to devise a slippery, evasive insult, no small trick in cowland could be more offensive than this

taking another man's rope. And it is the small tricks which lead to the big bullets. Trampas put a smooth

coating of plausibility over the whole transaction. "After the rope corral we had to make this morning"his

tone was mock explanatory"the ropes was all strewed round camp, and in the hustle I"

"Pardon me," said a sonorous voice behind us, "do you happen to have seen Judge Henry?" It was the

reverend gentleman in his meadow, come to the fence. As we turned round to him he spoke on, with much

rotund authority in his eye. "From his answer to my letter, Judge Henry undoubtedly expects me here. I have

arrived from Fetterman according to my plan which I announced to him, to find that he has been absent all

The Virginian sat sidewise to talk, one long, straight leg supporting him on one stirrup, the other bent at ease,

the boot half lifted from its dangling stirrup. He made himself the perfection of courtesy. "The Judge is

"Ah! On a vacation, perhaps?" The divine had a ruddy facet. His strong glance was straight and frank and

fearless; but his smile too much reminded me of days bygone, when we used to return to school from the

Christmas holidays, and the masters would shake our hands and welcome us with: "Robert, John, Edward,

glad to see you all looking so well! Rested, and ready for hard work, I'm sure!"

That smile does not really please even good, tame little boys; and the Virginian was nearing thirty.

"It has not been vacation this trip, seh," said he, settling straight in his saddle. "There's the Judge driving in

His horse took a step, but was stopped short. There lay the Virginian's rope on the ground. I had been aware

of Trampas's quite proper departure during the talk; and as he was leaving, I seemed also to be aware of his

placing the coil across the cantle of its owner's saddle. Had he intended it to fall and have to be picked up? It

was another evasive little business, and quite successful, if designed to nag the owner of the rope. A few

hundred yards ahead of us Trampas was now shouting loud cowboy shouts. Were they to announce his

return to those at home, or did they mean derision? The Virginian leaned, keeping his seat, and, swinging

down his arm, caught up the rope, and hung it on his saddle somewhat carefully. But the hue of rage spread

From his fence the divine now spoke, in approbation, but with another strong, cheerless smile. "You pick up

"It's part of our business, seh, and we try to mind it like the rest." But this, stated in a gentle drawl, did not

We now rode on, and I was impressed by the reverend gentleman's robust, dictatorial back as he proceeded

by a short cut through the meadow to the ranch. You could take him for nothing but a vigorous, sincere,

dominating man, full of the highest purpose. But whatever his creed, I already doubted if he were the right

one to sow it and make it grow in these new, wild fields. He seemed more the sort of gardener to keep old

walks and vines pruned in their antique rigidity. I admired him for coming all this way with his clean, short,

gray whiskers and his black, wellbrushed suit. And he made me think of a powerful locomotive stuck

Meanwhile, the Virginian rode beside me, so silent in his volcanic wrath that I did not perceive it. The

missionary coming on top of Trampas had been more than he could stand. But I did not know, and I spoke

"Is the parson going to save us?" I asked; and I fairly jumped at his voice:"Don't talk so much!" he burst out. I

"Who's been talking?" I in equal anger screeched back. "I'm not trying to save you. I didn't take your rope."

But he spurred his own alongside of me; and glancing at him, I saw that he was now convulsed with internal

"I'm right obliged to yu'," he laid his hand in its buckskin gauntlet upon my horse's mane as he spoke, "for

bringing me back out o' my nonsense. I'll be as serene as a bird nowwhatever they do. A man," he stated

reflectively, "any fullsized man, ought to own a big lot of temper. And like all his valuable possessions, he'd

ought to keep it and not lose any." This was his full apology. "As for salvation, I have got this far:

somebody," he swept an arm at the sunset and the mountains, "must have made all that, I know. But I know

one more thing I would tell Him to His face: if I can't do nothing long enough and good enough to earn

eternal happiness, I can't do nothing long enough and bad enough to be damned. I reckon He plays a square

game with us if He plays at all, and I ain't bothering my haid about other worlds."

As we reached the stables, he had become the serene bird he promised, and was sentimentally continuing:

"'De sun is made of mud from de bottom of de river; De moon is made o' foxfire, as you might disciver; De

stars like de ladies' eyes, All round de world dey flies, To give a little light when de moon don't rise.'"

If words were meant to conceal our thoughts, melody is perhaps a still thicker veil for them. Whatever temper

he had lost, he had certainly found again; but this all the more fitted him to deal with Trampas, when the

dealing should begin. I had half a mind to speak to the Judge, only it seemed beyond a mere visitor's

business. Our missionary was at this moment himself speaking to Judge Henry at the door of the home ranch.

"I reckon he's explaining he has been awaiting." The Virginian was throwing his saddle off as I loosened the

I now surveyed the distant parley, and the Judge, from the wagonful of guests whom he had evidently been

driving upon a day's excursion, waved me a welcome, which I waved back. "He's got Miss Molly Wood

"Yes." The Virginian was brief about this fact. "I'll look afteh your saddle. You go and get acquainted with

This favor I accepted; it was the means he chose for saying he hoped, after our recent boiling over, that all

was now more than right between us. So for the while I left him to his horses, and his corrals, and his

Judge and Mrs. Henry, Molly Wood, and two strangers, a lady and a gentleman, were the party which had

been driving in the large threeseated wagon. They had seemed a merry party. But as I came within hearing

of their talk, it was a fragment of the minister's sonority which reached me first: "more opportunity for

them to have the benefit of hearing frequent sermons," was the sentence I heard him bring to completion.

"Yes, to be sure, sir." Judge Henry gave me (it almost seemed) additional warmth of welcome for arriving to

break up the present discourse. "Let me introduce you to the Rev. Dr. Alexander MacBride. Doctor, another

guest we have been hoping for about this time," was my host's cordial explanation to him of me. There

remained the gentleman with his wife from New York, and to these I made my final bows. But I had not

"We may be said to have met already." Dr. MacBride had fixed upon me his full, mastering eye; and it

occurred to me that if they had policemen in heaven, he would be at least a centurion in the force. But he did

not mean to be unpleasant; it was only that in a mind full of matters less worldly, pleasure was left out. "I

observed your friend was a skilful horseman," he continued. "I was saying to Judge Henry that I could wish

such skilful horsemen might ride to a church upon the Sabbath. A church, that is, of right doctrine, where

"I was informed," Dr. MacBride held the rest of us, "before undertaking my journey that I should find a

desolate and mainly godless country. But nobody gave me to understand that from Medicine Bow I was to

The Judge explained that there had been a few a long way to the right and left of him. "Still," he conceded,

"you are quite right. But don't forget that this is the newest part of a new world."

"Judge," said his wife, coming to the door, "how can you keep them standing in the dust with your talking?"

This most efficiently did break up the discourse. As our little party, with the smiles and the polite holdings

back of new acquaintanceship, moved into the house, the Judge detained me behind all of them long enough

I had hopes that he would not stay a whole week when I presently learned of the crowded arrangements

which our hosts, with many hospitable apologies, disclosed to us. They were delighted to have us, but they

hadn't foreseen that we should all be simultaneous. The foreman's house had been prepared for two of us, and

did we mind? The two of us were Dr. MacBride and myself; and I expected him to mind. But I wronged him

grossly. It would be much better, he assured Mrs. Henry, than straw in a stable, which he had tried several

times, and was quite ready for. So I saw that though he kept his vigorous body clean when he could, he cared

nothing for it in the face of his mission. How the foreman and his wife relished being turned out during a

week for a missionary end myself was not my concern, although while he and I made ready for supper over

there, it struck me as hard on them. The room with its two cots and furniture was as nice as possible; and we

closed the door upon the adjoining room, which, however, seemed also untenanted.

Mrs. Henry gave us a meal so good that I have remembered it, and her husband the Judge strove his best that

we should eat it in merriment. He poured out his anecdotes like wine, and we should have quickly warmed to

them; but Dr. MacBride sat among us, giving occasional heavy haha's, which produced, as Miss Molly

Wood whispered to me, a "dreadfully cavernous effect." Was it his sermon, we wondered, that he was

thinking over? I told her of the copious sheaf of them I had seen him pull from his wallet over at the

foreman's. "Goodness!" said she. "Then are we to hear one every evening?" This I doubted; he had probably

been picking one out suitable for the occasion. "Putting his best foot foremost," was her comment; "I suppose

they have best feet, like the rest of us." Then she grew delightfully sharp. "Do you know, when I first heard

him I thought his voice was hearty. But if you listen, you'll find it's merely militant. He never really meets

Suddenly I somehow knew that she didn't want to tame him. But what did she want to do? The thought of her

had made him blush this afternoon. No thought of him made her blush this evening.

A great laugh from the rest of the company made me aware that the Judge had consummated his tale of the

"And so," he finished, "they all went off as mad as hops because it hadn't been a massacre." Mr. and Mrs.

Ogdenthey were the New Yorkersgave this story much applause, and Dr. MacBride half a minute later

"Talking of massacres,"I now hastened to address the already saddened table,"I have recently escaped

"Seriously, sir, I think we grazed pretty wet tragedy but your extraordinary man brought us out into comedy

This gave me their attention; and, from that afternoon in Dakota when I had first stepped aboard the caboose,

I told them the whole tale of my experience: how I grew immediately aware that all was not right, by the

Virginian's kicking the cook off the train; how, as we journeyed, the dark bubble of mutiny swelled hourly

beneath my eyes; and how, when it was threatening I know not what explosion, the Virginian had pricked it

Their eyes followed my narrative: the New Yorkers, because such events do not happen upon the shores of

the Hudson; Mrs. Henry, because she was my hostess; Miss Wood followed for whatever her reasons

wereI couldn't see her eyes; rather, I FELT her listening intently to the deeds and dangers of the man she

didn't care to tame. But it was the eyes of the Judge and the missionary which I saw riveted upon me indeed

Judge Henry struck the table lightly with his fist. "I knew it!" And he leaned back in his chair with a face of

"Pardon me." Dr. MacBride had a manner of saying "pardon me," which rendered forgiveness wellnigh

"Am I to understand that theseacowboys attempted to mutiny, and were discouraged in this attempt

upon finding themselves less skilful at lying than the man they had plotted to depose?"

I began an answer. "It was other qualities, sir, that happened to be revealed and asserted by what you call his

"And what am I to call it, if it is not lying? A competition in deceit in which, I admit, he out did them.

Mr. Ogden handsomely assisted him. "You've said the word yourself, Doctor. It's the competition, don't you

"Yes," said Miss Wood, unexpectedly. "And it wasn't that George Washington couldn't tell a lie. He just

wouldn't. I'm sure if he'd undertaken to he'd have told a much better one than Cornwall's."

"It's all plain to me," Ogden pursued. "The men were morose. This foreman was in the minority. He cajoled

them into a bout of tall stories, and told the tallest himself. And when they found they had swallowed it

wholewell, it would certainly take the starch out of me," he concluded. "I couldn't be a serious mutineer

Dr. MacBride now sounded his strongest bass. "Pardon me. I cannot accept such a view, sir. There is a levity

abroad in our land which I must deplore. No matter how leniently you may try to put it, in the end we have

the spectacle of a struggle between men where lying decides the survival of the fittest. Better, far better, if it

was to come, that they had shot honest bullets. There are worse evils than war."

The Doctor's eye glared righteously about him. None of us, I think, trembled; or, if we did, it was with

emotions other than fear. Mrs. Henry at once introduced the subject of troutfishing, and thus happily

removed us from the edge of whatever sort of precipice we seemed to have approached; for Dr. MacBride

had brought his rod. He dilated upon this sport with fervor, and we assured him that the streams upon the

west slope of the Bow Leg Mountains would afford him plenty of it. Thus we ended our meal in carefully

"Do you often have these visitations?" Ogden inquired of Judge Henry. Our host was giving us whiskey in his

office, and Dr. MacBride, while we smoked apart from the ladies, had repaired to his quarters in the

The Judge laughed. "They come now and then through the year. I like the bishop to come. And the men

"Oh, no. They'll keep quiet. The fact is, they have a good deal better manners than he has, if he only knew it.

"Science! He doesn't know what Christianity is yet. I've entertained many guests, but noneThe whole

secret," broke off Judge Henry, "lies in the way you treat people. As soon as you treat men as your brothers,

they are ready to acknowledge youif you deserve itas their superior. That's the whole bottom of

There was a somewhat heavy knock at the office door, and I think we all feared it was Dr. MacBride. But

"So!" The Judge opened the door wide. He was very hearty to the man he had trusted. "You're back at last."

While they shook hands, Ogden nudged me. "That the fellow?" I nodded. "Fellow who kicked the cook off

the train?" I again nodded, and he looked at the Virginian, his eye and his stature.

The New Yorker also meant to be properly democratic. "You're the man I've been hearing such a lot about."

But familiarity is not equality. "Then I expect yu' have the advantage of me, seh," said the Virginian, very

politely. "Shall I repawt tomorro'?" His grave eyes were on the Judge again. Of me he had taken no notice; he

"Yes, yes; I'll want to hear about the cattle tomorrow. But step inside a moment now. There's a matter"

The Virginian stepped inside, and took off his hat. "Sit down. You had troubleI've heard something about

The Virginian sat down, grave and graceful. But he held the brim of his hat all the while. He looked at Ogden

and me, and then back at his employer. There was reluctance in his eye. I wondered if his employer could be

going to make him tell his own exploits in the presence of us outsiders; and there came into my memory the

"Well, there was a time when they maybe wanted to have notions. They're good boys." And he smiled a very

But this time the Bengal tiger did not smile. He sat with his eye fastened on his employer.

The Judge passed rather quickly on to his next point. "You've brought them all back, though, I understand,

The Virginian looked down at his hat, then up again at the Judge, mildly. "I had to part with my cook."

There was no use; Ogden and myself exploded. Even upon the embarrassed Virginian a large grin slowly

forced itself. "I guess yu' know about it," he murmured. And he looked at me with a sort of reproach. He

"I only want to say," said Ogden, conciliatingly, "that I know I couldn't have handled those men."

The Judge had remained serious; but he showed himself plainly more and more contented. "Quite right," he

said. "You had to part with your cook. When I put a man in charge, I put him in charge. I don't make

"Thank yu'." The Virginian understood that his employer was praising his management of the expedition. But

I don't think he at all discernedas I did presentlythat his employer had just been putting him to a further

test, had laid before him the temptation of complaining of a fellowworkman and blowing his own trumpet,

"I haven't finished," said the Judge. "I was coming to the matter. There's one particularsince I do happen to

This time the Virginian evidently did not understand, any more than I did. One hand played with his hat,

A pulse of triumph shot over the Southerner's face, turning it savage for that fleeting instant. He understood

"You see," the Judge explained to me, "I was obliged to let Roberts, my old foreman, go last week. His wife

could not have stood another winter here, and a good position was offered to him near Los Angeles."

I did see. I saw a number of things. I saw why the foreman's house had been empty to receive Dr. MacBride

and me. And I saw that the Judge had been very clever indeed. For I had abstained from telling any tales

about the present feeling between Trampas and the Virginian; but he had divined it. Well enough for him to

say that "particulars" were something he let alone; he evidently kept a deep eye on the undercurrents at his

ranch. He knew that in Roberts, Trampas had lost a powerful friend. And this was what I most saw, this final

fact, that Trampas had no longer any intervening shield. He and the Virginian stood indeed man to man.

"And so," the Judge continued speaking to me, "here I am at a very inconvenient time without a foreman.

Unless," I caught the twinkle in his eyes before he turned to the Virginian, "unless you're willing to take the

I saw the Southerner's hand grip his hat as he was turning it round. He held it still now, and his other hand

found it and gradually crumpled the soft crown in. It meant everything to him: recognition, higher station,

better fortune, a separate house of his own, andperhapsone step nearer to the woman he wanted. I don't

know what words he might have said to the Judge had they been alone, but the Judge had chosen to do it in

our presence, the whole thing from beginning to end. The Virginian sat with the damp coming out on his

"Well, now, I'm greatly relieved!" exclaimed the Judge, rising at once. He spoke with haste, and lightly.

"That's excellent. I was in some thing of a hole," he said to Ogden and me; "and this gives me one thing less

to think of. Saves me a lot of particulars," he jocosely added to the Virginian, who was now also standing up.

"Begin right off. Leave the bunk house. The gentlemen won't mind your sleeping in your own house."

Thus he dismissed his new foreman gayly. But the new foreman, when he got outside, turned back for one

gruff word," I'll try to please yu'." That was all. He was gone in the darkness. But there was light enough

for me, looking after him, to see him lay his hand on a shoulderhigh gate and vault it as if he had been the

wind. Sounds of cheering came to us a few moments later from the bunk house. Evidently he had "begun

right away," as the Judge had directed. He had told his fortune to his brother cowpunchers, and this was

I knew that he entirely meant it. I knew, once his decision taken of appointing the Virginian his lieutenant for

good and all, that, like a wise commanderinchief, he would trust his lieutenant to take care of his own

"Well," Ogden pursued with interest, "haven't you landed Trampas plump at his mercy?"

The phrase tickled the Judge. "That is where I've landed him!" he declared. "And here is Dr. MacBride."

Thunder sat imminent upon the missionary's brow. Many were to be at his mercy soon. But for us he had

sunshine still. "I am truly sorry to be turning you upside down," he said importantly. "But it seems the best

place for my service." He spoke of the tables pushed back and the chairs gathered in the hall, where the storm

This was the hour appointed, and it was only twenty minutes off. We threw the unsmoked fractions of our

cigars away, and returned to offer our services to the ladies. This amused the ladies. They had done without

"We got the cook to help us," Mrs. Ogden told me, "so as not to disturb your cigars. In spite of the cowboys,

"Had you been smoking," I returned, "you would have found them short this evening."

We'll share him with you now," I exclaimed. "Has he announced his text? I've got one for hint," said Molly

Wood, joining us. She stood on tiptoe and spoke it comically in our ears. "'I said in my haste, All men are

I left the ladies, and sought the bunk house. I had heard the cheers, but I was curious also to see the men, and

how they were taking it. There was but little for the eye. There was much noise in the room. They were

getting ready to come to church,brushing their hair, shaving, and making themselves clean, amid talk

"I'm a Mohammedist," said a fourth; "I hope I ain't goin' to hear nothin' to shock me."

And they went on with their joking. But Trampas was out of the joking. He lay on his bed reading a

newspaper, and took no pains to look pleasant. My eyes were considering him when the blithe Scipio came

He had been helping the Virginian move his belongings from the bunk house over to the foreman's cabin. He

himself was to occupy the Virginian's old bed here. "And I hope sleepin' in it will bring me some of his luck,"

said Scipio. "Yu'd ought to've seen us when he told us in his quiet way. Well," Scipio sighed a little, "it must

"Knows, does he? What's he say?" Scipio drew me quickly out of the bunk house."Says it's no business of

"Said nothing but that?" Scipio's curiosity seemed strangely intense. "Made no suggestion? Not a thing?"

"How did he happen to hear about it?" snapped Scipio. "You told him!" he immediately guessed. "He never

would." And Scipio jerked his thumb at the Virginian, who appeared for a moment in the lighted window of

the new quarters he was arranging. "He never would tell," Scipio repeated. "And so the Judge never made a

suggestion to him," he muttered, nodding in the darkness. "So it's just his own notion. Just like him, too,

come to think of it. Only I didn't expectwell, I guess he could surprise me any day he tried."

"Yes, I up and asked him plumb out," Scipio answered. "I was liftin' his trunk in at the door, and I couldn't

stand it no longer, and I asked him plumb out. 'Yu've sure got Trampas where yu' want him.' That's what I

said. And he up and answered and told me. So I know." At this point Scipio stopped; I was not to know.

"He'd call it discretion," said Scipio. Then he became serious. "It's too blamed grand to tell yu'. I'll leave yu'

to see it happen. Keep around, that's all. Keep around. I pretty near wish I didn't know it myself."

What with my feelings at Scipio's discretion, and my human curiosity, I was not in that mood which best

profits from a sermon. Yet even though my expectations had been cruelly left quivering in mid air, I was not

sure how much I really wanted to "keep around." You will therefore understand how Dr. MacBride was able

to make a prayer and to read Scripture without my being conscious of a word that he had uttered. It was when

I saw him opening the manuscript of his sermon that I suddenly remembered I was sitting, so to speak, in

church, and began once more to think of the preacher and his congregation. Our chairs were in the front line,

of course; but, being next the wall, I could easily see the cowboys behind me. They were perfectly decorous.

If Mrs. Ogden had looked for pistols, daredevil attitudes, and so forth, she must have been greatly

disappointed. Except for their weatherbeaten cheeks and eyes, they were simply American young men with

mustaches and without, and might have been sitting, say, in Danbury, Connecticut. Even Trampas merged

quietly with the general placidity. The Virginian did not, to be sure, look like Danbury, and his frame and his

features showed out of the mass; but his eyes were upon Dr. MacBride with a creamlike propriety.

Our missionary did not choose Miss Wood's text. He made his selection from another of the Psalms; and

when it came, I did not dare to look at anybody; I was much nearer unseemly conduct than the cowboys. Dr.

Mac Bride gave us his text sonorously, "'They are altogether become filthy; There is none of them that doeth

good, no, not one.'" His eye showed us plainly that present company was not excepted from this. He repeated

the text once more, then, launching upon his discourse, gave none of us a ray of hope.

I had heard it all often before; but preached to cowboys it took on a new glare of untimeliness, of grotesque

obsoletenessas if some one should say, "Let me persuade you to admire woman," and forthwith hold out

her bleached bones to you. The cowboys were told that not only they could do no good, but that if they did

contrive to, it would not help them. Nay, more: not only honest deeds availed them nothing, but even if they

accepted this especial creed which was being explained to them as necessary for salvation, still it might not

save them. Their sin was indeed the cause of their damnation, yet, keeping from sin, they might nevertheless

be lost. It had all been settled for them not only before they were born, but before Adam was shaped. Having

told them this, he invited them to glorify the Creator of the scheme. Even if damned, they must praise the

person who had made them expressly for damnation. That is what I heard him prove by logic to these

cowboys. Stone upon stone he built the black cellar of his theology, leaving out its beautiful park and the

sunshine of its garden. He did not tell them the splendor of its past, the noble fortress for good that it had

been, how its tonic had strengthened generations of their fathers. No; wrath he spoke of, and never once of

love. It was the bishop's way, I knew well, to hold cowboys by homely talk of their special hardships and

temptations. And when they fell he spoke to them of forgiveness and brought them encouragement. But Dr.

MacBride never thought once of the lives of these waifs. Like himself, like all mankind, they were invisible

dots in creation; like him, they were to feel as nothing, to be swept up in the potent heat of his faith. So he

thrust out to them none of the sweet but all the bitter of his creed, naked and stern as iron. Dogma was his all

Thus to kill what chance he had for being of use seemed to me more deplorable than it did evidently to them.

Their attention merely wandered. Three hundred years ago they would have been frightened; but not in this

electric day. I saw Scipio stifling a smile when it came to the doctrine of original sin. "We know of its truth,"

said Dr. MacBride, "from the severe troubles and distresses to which infants are liable, and from death

passing upon them before they are capable of sinning. Yet I knew he was a good man; and I also knew that if

I said their attention wandered, but I forgot the Virginian. At first his attitude might have been mere

propriety. One can look respectfully at a preacher and be internally breaking all the commandments. But even

with the text I saw real attention light in the Virginian's eye. And keeping track of the concentration that grew

on him with each minute made the sermon short for me. He missed nothing. Before the end his gaze at the

preacher had become swerveless. Was he convert or critic? Convert was incredible. Thus was an hour passed

When it was over we took it variously. The preacher was genial and spoke of having now broken ground for

the lessons that he hoped to instil. He discoursed for a while about troutfishing and about the rumored

uneasiness of the Indians northward where he was going. It was plain that his personal safety never gave him

a thought. He soon bade us good night. The Ogdens shrugged their shoulders and were amused. That was

their way of taking it. Dr. MacBride sat too heavily on the Judge's shoulders for him to shrug them. As a

leading citizen in the Territory he kept open house for all comers. Policy and good nature made him bid

welcome a wide variety of travellers. The cowboy out of employment found bed and a meal for himself and

his horse, and missionaries had before now been well received at Sunk Creek Ranch.

"Yes, my dear," said his wife, "you will. And I shall have to make his tea for six days."

"Otherwise," Ogden suggested, "it might be reported that you were enemies of religion."

"That's about it," said the Judge. "I can get on with most people. But elephants depress me."

At the bunk house, the comments were similar but more highly salted. The men were going to bed. In spite of

their outward decorum at the service, they had not liked to be told that they were "altogether become filthy."

It was easy to call names; they could do that themselves. And they appealed to me, several speaking at once,

like a concerted piece at the opera: "Say, do you believe babies go to hell?""Ah, of course he

don't.""There ain't no hereafter, anyway.""Ain't there?""Who told yu'?""Same man as told the

preacher we were all a sifted set of sonsofguns.""Well, I'm going to stay a Mormon.""Well, I'm

going to quit fleeing from temptation.""that's so! Better get it in the neck after a good time than a poor

one." And so forth. Their wit was not extreme, yet I should like Dr. MacBride to have heard it. One fellow

put his natural soul pretty well into words, "If I happened to learn what they had predestinated me to do, I'd

And Trampas? And the Virginian? They were out of it. The Virginian had gone straight to his new abode.

The Virginian's room was quiet and dark; and that Dr. MacBride slumbered was plainly audible to me, even

before I entered. Go fishing with him! I thought, as I undressed. And I selfishly decided that the Judge might

have this privilege entirely to himself. Sleep came to me fairly soon, in spite of the Doctor. I was wakened

from it by my bed's being joltednot a pleasant thing that night. I must have started. And it was the quiet

voice of the Virginian that told me he was sorry to have accidentally disturbed me. This disturbed me a good

deal more. But his steps did not go to the bunk house, as my sensational mind had suggested. He was not

wearing much, and in the dimness he seemed taller than common. I next made out that he was bending over

"You can lay down your gun, seh. I feel like my spirit was going to bear witness. I feel like I might get an

He was using some of the missionary's own language. The baffling I had been treated to by Scipio melted to

nothing in this. Did living men petrify, I should have changed to mineral between the sheets. The Doctor got

out of bed, lighted his lamp, and found a book; and the two retired into the Virginian's room, where I could

hear the exhortations as I lay amazed. In time the Doctor returned, blew out his lamp, and settled himself. I

had been very much awake, but was nearly gone to sleep again, when the door creaked and the Virginian

"Excuse me, seh. The enemy is winning on me. I'm feeling less inward opposition to sin."

The lamp was lighted, and I listened to some further exhortations. They must have taken half an hour. When

the Doctor was in bed again, I thought that I heard him sigh. This upset my composure in the dark; but I lay

face downward in the pillow, and the Doctor was soon again snoring. I envied him for a while his faculty of

easy sleep. But I must have dropped off myself; for it was the lamp in my eyes that now waked me as he

came back for the third time from the Virginian's room. Before blowing the light out he looked at his watch,

"I'm afeared to be alone!" said the Virginian's voice presently in the next room. "I'm afeared." There was a

short pause, and then he shouted very loud, "I'm losin' my desire afteh the sincere milk of the Word!"

"What? What's that? What?" The Doctor's cot gave a great crack as he started up listening, and I put my face

"Courage, my good man." The Doctor was out of bed with his lamp again, and the door shut behind him.

Between them they made it long this time. I saw the window become gray; then the corners of the furniture

grow visible; and outside, the dry chorus of the blackbirds began to fill the dawn. To these the sounds of

chickens and impatient hoofs in the stable were added, and some cow wandered by loudly calling for her calf.

Next, some one whistling passed near and grew distant. But although the cold hue that I lay staring at through

the window warmed and changed, the Doctor continued working hard over his patient in the next room. Only

a word here and there was distinct; but it was plain from the Virginian's fewer remarks that the sin in his belly

was alarming him less. Yes, they made this time long. But it proved, indeed, the last one. And though some

sort of catastrophe was bound to fall upon us, it was myself who precipitated the thing that did happen.

Day was wholly come. I looked at my own watch, and it was six. I had been about seven hours in my bed,

and the Doctor had been about seven hours out of his. The door opened, and he came in with his book and

lamp. He seemed to be shivering a little, and I saw him cast a longing eye at his couch. But the Virginian

followed him even as he blew out the now quite superfluous light. They made a noticeable couple in their

underclothes: the Virginian with his lean racehorse shanks running to a point at his ankle, and the Doctor with

"You'll be going to breakfast and the ladies, seh, pretty soon," said the Virginian, with a chastened voice.

"But I'll worry through the day somehow without yu'. And tonight you can turn your wolf loose on me

Once more it was no use. My face was deep in the pillow, but I made sounds as of a hen who has laid an egg.

He tried to speak calmly. "This is a disgrace. An infamous disgrace. Never in my life have I" Words

forsook him, and his face grew redder. "Never in my life" He stopped again, because, at the sight of him

being dignified in his red drawers, I was making the noise of a dozen hens. It was suddenly too much for the

Virginian. He hastened into his room, and there sank on the floor with his head in his hands. The Doctor

immediately slammed the door upon him, and this rendered me easily fit for a lunatic asylum. I cried into my

pillow, and wondered if the Doctor would come and kill me. But he took no notice of me whatever. I could

hear the Virginian's convulsions through the door, and also the Doctor furiously making his toilet within three

feet of my head; and I lay quite still with my face the other way, for I was really afraid to look at him. When I

heard him walk to the door in his boots, I ventured to peep; and there he was, going out with his bag in his

hand. As I still continued to lie, weak and sore, and with a mind that had ceased an operation, the Virginian's

door opened. He was clean and dressed and decent, but the devil still sported in his eye. I have never seen a

Then my mind worked again. "You've gone and done it," said I. "He's packed his valise. He'll not sleep here."

The Virginian looked quickly out of the door. "Why, he's leavin' us!" he exclaimed. "Drivin' away right now

in his little old buggy!" He turned to me, and our eyes met solemnly over this large fact. I thought that I

perceived the faintest tincture of dismay in the features of Judge Henry's new, responsible, trusty foreman.

This was the first act of his administration. Once again he looked out at the departing missionary. "Well," he

vindictively stated, "I cert'nly ain't goin' to run afteh him." And he looked at me again.

He shook his head. "The windo' shades is all down still oveh yondeh." He paused. "I don't care," he stated,

quite as if he had been ten years old. Then he grinned guiltily. "I was mighty respectful to him all night."

The Virginian gave a joyous gulp. He now came and sat down on the edge of my bed. "I spoke awful good

English to him most of the time," said he. "I can, yu' know, when I cinch my attention tight on to it. Yes, I

He was now growing frankly pleased with his exploit. He had builded so much better than he knew. He got

up and looked out across the crystal world of light. "The Doctor is at onemile crossing," he said. "He'll get

breakfast at the NlazyY." Then he returned and sat again on my bed, and began to give me his real heart. "I

never set up for being better than others. Not even to myself. My thoughts ain't apt to travel around making

comparisons. And I shouldn't wonder if my memory took as much notice of the meannesses I have done as

ofas of the other actions. But to have to sit like a dumb lamb and let a stranger tell yu' for an hour that yu're

a hawg and a swine, just after you have acted in a way which them that know the facts would call pretty near

"Well, yu' see, I arrived home hyeh this evenin' with several thoughts workin' and stirrin' inside me. And not

one o' them thoughts was what yu'd call Christian. I ain't the least little bit ashamed of 'em. I'm a human. But

after the Judgewell, yu' heard him. And so when I went away from that talk and saw how positions was

A step outside stopped him short. Nothing more could be read in his face, for there was Trampas himself in

"Good morning," said Trampas, not looking at us. He spoke with the same cool sullenness of yesterday.

Trampas's sullenness deepened. "Any man is to be congratulated on getting a rise, I expect."

This time the Virginian let him have it. "Cert'nly. And I ain't forgetting how much I owe mine to you."

Trampas would have liked to let himself go. "I've not come here for any forgiveness," he sneered.

Trampas seemed to feel how little he was going this way. He came out straight now. "Oh, I haven't any Judge

behind me, I know. I heard you'd be paying the boys this morning, and I've come for my time."

"You're thinking of leaving us?" asked the new foreman. "What's your dissatisfaction?"

"Oh, I'm not needing anybody back of me. I'll get along by myself." It was thus he revealed his expectation of

This would have knocked any meditated generosity out of my heart. But I was not the Virginian. He shifted

his legs, leaned back a little, and laughed. "Go back to your job, Trampas, if that's all your complaint. You're

It was this that Scipio had preferred me to see with my own eyes. The fight was between man and man no

longer. The case could not be one of forgiveness; but the Virginian would not use his official position to

Trampas departed with something muttered that I did not hear, and the Virginian closed intimate conversation

The ladies were inclined to be scandalized, but not the Judge. When my whole story was done, he brought his

fist down on the table, and not lightly this time. "I'd make him lieutenant general if the ranch offered that

Miss Molly Wood said nothing at the time. But in the afternoon, by her wish, she went fishing, with the

Virginian deputed to escort her. I rode with them, for a while. I was not going to continue a third in that party;

the Virginian was too becomingly dressed, and I saw KENILWORTH peeping out of his pocket. I meant to

But Miss Wood talked with skilful openness as we rode. "I've heard all about you and Dr. MacBride," she

He looked pleased. "I reckon," he said, "I couldn't be so good if I wasn't bad onced in a while.

"Why, there's a skunk," said I, noticing the pretty little animal trotting in front of us at the edge of the

"Oh, where is it? Don't let me see it!" screamed Molly. And at this deeply feminine remark, the Virginian

looked at her with such a smile that, had I been a woman, it would have made me his to do what he pleased

Upon the lady, however, it seemed to make less impression. Or rather, I had better say, whatever were her

feelings, she very naturally made no display of them, and contrived not to be aware of that expression which

It was later that these few words reached me while I was fishing alone:"Have you anything different to tell

"Yes; I have." She spoke in accents light and well intrenched. "I wish to say that I have never liked any man

He must have drawn small comfort from such an answer as that. But he laughed out indomitably:"Don't yu'

go betting on any such expectation!" And then their words ceased to be distinct, and it was only their two

We all know what birds of a feather do. And it may be safely surmised that if a bird of any particular feather

has been for a long while unable to see other birds of its kind, it will flock with them all the more assiduously

Now the Ogdens were birds of Molly's feather. They wore Eastern, and not Western, plumage, and their song

was a different song from that which the Bear Creek birds sang. To be sure, the piping of little George Taylor

was full of hopeful interest; and many other strains, both striking and melodious, were lifted in Cattle Land,

and had given pleasure to Molly's ear. But although Indians, and bears, and mavericks, make worthy themes

for song, these are not the only songs in the world. Therefore the Eastern warblings of the Ogdens sounded

doubly sweet to Molly Wood. Such words as Newport, Bar Harbor, and Tiffany's thrilled her exceedingly. It

made no difference that she herself had never been to Newport or Bar Harbor, and had visited Tiffany's more

often to admire than to purchase. On the contrary, this rather added a dazzle to the music of the Ogdens. And

Molly, whose Eastern song had been silent in this strange land, began to chirp it again during the visit that

Thus the Virginian's cause by no means prospered at this time. His forces were scattered, while Molly's were

concentrated. The girl was not at that point where absence makes the heart grow fonder. While the Virginian

was trundling his long, responsible miles in the caboose, delivering the cattle at Chicago, vanquishing

Thus it was that she could tell him so easily during those first hours that they were alone after his return, "I

Absence had recruited her. And then the Ogdens had reenforced her. They brought the East back powerfully

to her memory, and her thoughts filled with it. They did not dream that they were assisting in any battle. No

one ever had more unconscious allies than did Molly at that time. But she used them consciously, or almost

consciously. She frequented them; she spoke of Eastern matters; she found that she had acquaintances whom

the Ogdens also knew, and she often brought them into the conversation. For it may be said, I think, that she

was fighting a battlenay, a campaign. And perhaps this was a hopeful sign for the Virginian (had he but

known it), that the girl resorted to allies. She surrounded herself, she steeped herself, with the East, to have,

as it were, a sort of counteractant against the spell of the blackhaired horse man.

And his forces were, as I have said, scattered. For his promotion gave him no more time for lovemaking. He

was foreman now. He had said to Judge Henry, "I'll try to please yu'." And after the throb of emotion which

these words had both concealed and conveyed, there came to him that sort of intention to win which amounts

He did not know how much he had already pleased him. He did not know that the Judge was humorously

undecided which of his new foreman's first acts had the more delighted him: his performance with the

"Good feeling is a great thing in any one," the Judge would say; "but I like to know that my foreman has so

And indeed so was the whole company. To be afflicted with Dr. MacBride for one night instead of six was a

But the Virginian never saw his sweetheart alone again; while she was at the Sunk Creek Ranch, his duties

called him away so much that there was no chance for him. Worse still, that habit of birds of a feather

brought about a separation more considerable. She arranged to go East with the Ogdens. It was so good an

Molly's term of ministration at the schoolhouse had so pleased Bear Creek that she was warmly urged to take

a holiday. School could afford to begin a little late. Accordingly, she departed.

The Virginian hid his sore heart from her during the moment of farewell that they had.

"No, I'll not want any more books," he said, "till yu' come back." And then he made cheerfulness. "It's just the

"So it was!" And here she gave him a last scratch. "But you'll be busier than ever," she said; "no spare time to

She could wound him, and she knew it. Nobody else could. That is why she did it.

And with these words he gave her no laughing glance. It was a look that mingled with the words; so that now

and again in the train, both came back to her, and she sat pensive, drawing near to Bennington and hearing his

How is it that this girl could cry at having to tell Sam Bannett she could not think of him, and then treat

another lover as she treated the Virginian? I cannot tell you, having never (as I said before) been a woman

Bennington opened its arms to its venturesome daughter. Much was made of Molly Wood. Old faces and old

places welcomed her. Fatted calves of varying dimensions made their appearance. And although the fatted

calf is an animal that can assume more divergent shapes than any other known creature,being sometimes

champagne and partridges, and again cake and currant wine,through each disguise you can always identify

The Bannetts at Hoosic Falls offered a large specimen to Mollya dinner (perhaps I should say a banquet)

"I want to see the Hoosic Bridge," she would say. And when they reached that wellremembered point, "How

lovely it is!" she exclaimed. And as she gazed at the view up and down the valley, she would grow pensive.

"How natural the church looks," she continued. And then, having crossed both bridges, "Oh, there's the dear

old lodge gate!" Or again, while they drove up the valley of the little Hoosic: "I had forgotten it was so nice

and lonely. But after all, no woods are so interesting as those where you might possibly see a bear or an elk."

And upon another occasion, after a cry of enthusiasm at the view from the top of Mount Anthony, "It's

lovely, lovely, lovely," she said, with diminishing cadence, ending in pensiveness once more. "Do you see

that little bit just there? No, not where the trees arethat bare spot that looks brown and warm in the sun.

With a little sagebrush, that spot would look something like a place I know on Bear Creek. Only of course

"I don't forget you," said Sam. "Do you remember me? Or is it out of sight out of mind?"

And with this beginning he renewed his suit. She told him that she forgot no one; that she should return

Over in the house at Dunbarton, the old lady held Molly's hand and looked a long while at her. "You have

The girl suddenly hid her face. "I don't believe I can love any one," she said, "except myself."

And then that old lady, who in her day had made her courtesy to Lafayette, began to stroke her niece's buried

head, because she more than half understood. And understanding thus much, she asked no prying questions,

but thought of the days of her own youth, and only spoke a little quiet love and confidence to Molly.

"I am an old, old woman," she said. "But I haven't forgotten about it. They objected to him because he had no

fortune. But he was brave and handsome, and I loved him, my dear. Only I ought to have loved him more. I

gave him my promise to think about it. And he and his ship were lost." The greataunt's voice had become

very soft and low, and she spoke with many pauses. "So then I knew. If I hadifperhaps I should have

lost trim; but it would have been afterah, well! So long as you can help it, never marry! But when you

cannot help it a moment longer, then listen to nothing but that; for, my dear, I know your choice would be

"Well, I won't pretend to be supernatural," said the aunt, "but I thought you kept one back when you were

Now this was the precise truth. Molly had brought a number of photographs from Wyoming to show to her

friends at home. These, however, with one exception, were not portraits. They were views of scenery and of

cattle roundups, and other scenes characteristic of ranch life. Of young men she had in her possession

several photographs, and all but one of these she had left behind her. Her aunt's penetration had in a way

mesmerized the girl; she rose obediently and sought that picture of the Virginian. It was full length,

displaying him in all his cowboy trappings,the leathern chaps, the belt and pistol, and in his hand a coil of

Not one of her family had seen it, or suspected its existence. She now brought it downstairs and placed it in

"Is that the way" began the aunt. "Mercy!"she murmured; and she sat staring at the picture.

"He's not a bit like that. Yes, he's exactly like that," said Molly. And she would have snatched the photograph

away, but her aunt retained it."Well," she said, "I suppose there are days when he does not kill people."

"It's not his clothes. And I'm not in love. He often wears others. He wears a white collar like anybody."

"Then that would be a more suitable way to be photographed, I think. He couldn't go round like that here. I

The old lady studied the picture closely for a minute. "I think it is a good face," she finally remarked. "Is the

More so, Molly thought. And who was he, and what were his prospects? were the aunt's next inquiries. She

shook her head at the answers which she received; and she also shook her head over her niece's emphatic

denial that her heart was lost to this man. But when their parting came, the old lady said:"God bless you and

keep you, my dear. I'll not try to manage you. They managed me" A sigh spoke the rest of this sentence.

"But I'm not worried about youat least, not very much. You have never done anything that was not worthy

of the Starks. And if you're going to take him, do it before I die so that I can bid him welcome for your sake.

And after the girl had gone back to Bennington, the greataunt had this thought: "She is like us all. She wants

a man that is a man." Nor did the old lady breathe her knowledge to any member of the family. For she was a

"Besides," she reflected, "if even I can do nothing with her, what a mess THEY'D make of it! We should hear

So Molly's immediate family never saw that photograph, and never heard a word from her upon this subject.

But on the day that she left for Bear Creek, as they sat missing her and discussing her visit in the evening,

Mrs. Bell observed: "Mother, how did you think she was?""I never saw her better, Sarah. That horrible

place seems to agree with her.""Oh, yes, agree. It seemed to me""Well?""Oh, just somehow that

she was thinking.""Thinking?""Well, I believe she has something on her mind.""You mean a man,"

said Andrew Bell."A man, Andrew?""Yes, Mrs. Wood, that's what Sarah always means."

It may be mentioned that Sarah's surmises did not greatly contribute to her mother's happiness. And rumor is

so strange a thing that presently from the malicious outside air came a vague and dreadful wordone of

those words that cannot be traced to its source. Somebody said to Andrew Bell that they heard Miss Molly

It was not in any dictionary, and current translations of it were inconsistent. A man at Hoosic Falls said that

he had passed through Cheyenne, and heard the term applied in a complimentary way to people who were

alive and pushing. Another man had always supposed it meant some kind of horse. But the most alarming

Now the truth is that all these meanings were right. The word ran a sort of progress in the cattle country,

gathering many meanings as it went. It gathered more, however, in Bennington. In a very few days, gossip

had it that Molly was engaged to a gambler, a gold miner, an escaped stage robber, and a Mexican bandit;

Along Bear Creek, however, Molly and her "rustler" took a ride soon after her return. They were neither

"Oh, looking for chances. I reckon I must have been more ambitious than my brothersor more restless.

They stayed around on farms. But I got out. When I went back again six years afterward, I was twenty. They

was talking about the same old things. Men of twentyfive and thirtyyet just sittin' and talkin' about the

same old things. I told my mother about what I'd seen here and there, and she liked it, right to her death. But

the otherswell, when I found this whole world was hawgs and turkeys to them, with a little gunnin' afteh

small game throwed in, I put on my hat one mawnin' and told 'em maybe when I was fifty I'd look in on 'em

again to see if they'd got any new subjects. But they'll never. My brothers don't seem to want chances."

"And yet," said she, "sometimes I think you know a great deal more than I ever shall."

"Why, of course I do," said he, quite simply. "I have earned my living since I was fourteen. And that's from

old Mexico to British Columbia. I have never stolen or begged a cent. I'd not want yu' to know what I know."

"I am not losing chances any more," he continued. "And you are the best I've got."

She was not sorry to have Georgie Taylor come galloping along at this moment and join them. But the

Virginian swore profanely under his breath. And on this ride nothing more happened.

Love had been snowbound for many weeks. Before this imprisonment its course had run neither smooth nor

rough, so far as eye could see; it had run either not at all, or, as an undercurrent, deep out of sight. In their

rides, in their talks, love had been dumb, as to spoken words at least; for the Virginian had set himself a

heavy task of silence and of patience. Then, where winter barred his visits to Bear Creek, and there was for

the while no ranch work or responsibility to fill his thoughts and blood with action, he set himself a task

much lighter. Often, instead of Shakespeare and fiction, school books lay open on his cabin table; and

penmanship and spelling helped the hours to pass. Many sheets of paper did he fill with various exercises,

"I shall presently be in love with him myself," she told the Judge. "And it's time for you to become anxious.

"She is not good enough for him," declared Mrs. Henry. "But he'll never see that."

So the snow fell, the world froze, and the spellingbooks and exercises went on. But this was not the only

case of education which was progressing at the Sunk Creek Ranch while love was snowbound.

One morning Scipio le Moyne entered the Virginian's sitting roomthat apartment where Dr. MacBride had

The Virginian sat at his desk. Open books lay around him; a halffinished piece of writing was beneath his

fist; his fingers were coated with ink. Education enveloped him, it may be said. But there was none in his eye.

The foreman did not move when Scipio came in, and this humorous spirit smiled to himself. "It's Bear Creek

he's havin' a vision of," he concluded. But he knew instantly that this was not so. The Virginian was looking

The foreman continued looking at two horsemen riding together. Their shapes, small in the distance, showed

"He," murmured the Virginian, always watching the distant horsemen; and again, "he."

Scipio sprawled down, familiarly, across a chair. He and the Virginian had come to know each other very

well since that first meeting at Medora. They were birds many of whose feathers were the same, and the

Virginian often talked to Scipio without reserve. Consequently, Scipio now understood those two syllables

that the Virginian had pronounced precisely as though the sentences which lay between them had been fully

Scipio was less compassionate. "No," he persisted, "I ain't sorry for him. Any man old enough to have hair on

The Virginian looked out of the window again, and watched Shorty and Trampas as they rode in the distance.

"Shorty is kind to animals," he said. "He has gentled that hawss Pedro he bought with his first money.

Gentled him wonderful. When a man is kind to dumb animals, I always say he had got some good in him."

"This hyeh is a mighty cruel country," pursued the Virginian. "To animals that is. Think of it! Think what we

do to hundreds an' thousands of little calves! Throw 'em down, brand 'em, cut 'em, ear mark 'em, turn 'em

loose, and on to the next. It has got to be, of course. But I say this. If a man can go jammin' hot irons on to

little calves and slicin' pieces off 'em with his knife, and live along, keepin' a kindness for animals in his

heart, he has got some good in him. And that's what Shorty has got. But he is lettin' Trampas get a hold of

him, and both of them will leave us." And the Virginian looked out across the huge winter whiteness again.

Scipio sat silent. He had never put these thoughts about men and animals to himself, and when they were put

"Nothing's queer," stated the Virginian, "except marriage and lightning. Them two occurrences can still give

"Why, Trampas. He done you dirt. You pass that over. You could have fired him, but you let him stay and

keep his job. That's goodness. And badness is resultin' from it, straight. Badness right from goodness."

"North, south, east, and west. First point. I didn't expect to do Trampas any good by not killin' him, which I

came pretty near doin' three times. Nor I didn't expect to do Trampas any good by lettin' him keep his job.

But I am foreman of this ranch. And I can sit and tell all men to their face: 'I was above that meanness.' Point

two: it ain't any GOODNESS, it is TRAMPAS that badness has resulted from. Put him anywhere and it will

be the same. Put him under my eye, and I can follow his moves a little, anyway. You have noticed, maybe,

that since you and I run on to that dead Polled Angus cow, that was still warm when we got to her, we have

found no more cows dead of sudden death. We came mighty close to catchin' whoever it was that killed that

cow and ran her calf off to his own bunch. He wasn't ten minutes ahead of us. We can prove nothin'; and he

knows that just as well as we do. But our cows have all quit dyin' of sudden death. And Trampas he's gettin'

ready for a change of residence. As soon as all the outfits begin hirin' new hands in the spring, Trampas will

leave us and take a job with some of them. And maybe our cows'll commence gettin' killed again, and we'll

"Why, nothing to bother yu'when he'd ought to have been killed. Next point: Trampas he'll take Shorty

with him, which is certainly bad for Shorty. But it's me that has kept Shorty out of harm's way this long. If I

had fired Trampas, he'd have worked Shorty into dissatisfaction that much sooner."

Scipio meditated again. "I knowed Trampas would pull his freight," he said. "But I didn't think of Shorty.

"When a man ain't got no ideas of his own," said Scipio, "he'd ought to be kind o' careful who he borrows 'em

"That's mighty correct," said the Virginian. "Poor Shorty! He has told me about his life. It is sorrowful. And

he will never get wise. It was too late for him to get wise when he was born. D' yu' know why he's after

"Well, Trampas is aimin' to train him. Yu' see, supposin' yu' were figuring to turn professional thiefyu'd be

lookin' around for a nice young trustful accomplice to take all the punishment and let you take the rest."

"No such thing!" cried Scipio, angrily. "I'm no shirker." And then, perceiving the Virginian's expression, he

Presently Scipio rose, and noticed the halffinished exercise upon the Virginian's desk. "Trampas is a rolling

"Mud! That's right. I'm a rolling stone. Sometimes I'd most like to quit being."

"No doubt, when yu've found the moss yu' want to gather." As Scipio glanced at the school books again, a

sparkle lurked in his bleached blue eye. "I can cipher some," he said. "But I expect I've got my own notions

"I retain a few private ideas that way myself," remarked the Virginian, innocently; and Scipio's sparkle

"As to my geography," he pursued, "that's away out loose in the brush. Is Bennington the capital of Vermont?

"Last point!" shouted the Virginian, letting a book fly after him: "don't let badness and goodness worry yu',

But Scipio had dodged the book, and was gone. As he went his way, he said to himself, "All the same, it must

pay to fall regular in love." At the bunk house that afternoon it was observed that he was unusually silent.His

exit from the foreman's cabin had let in a breath of winter so chill that the Virginian went to see his

thermometer, a Christmas present from Mrs. Henry. It registered twenty below zero. After reviving the fire to

a white blaze, the foreman sat thinking over the story of Shorty: what its useless, feeble past had been; what

would be its useless, feeble future. He shook his head over the sombre question, Was there any way out for

Shorty? "It may be," he reflected, "that them whose pleasure brings yu' into this world owes yu' a living. But

that don't make the world responsible. The world did not beget you. I reckon man helps them that help

themselves. As for the universe, it looks like it did too wholesale a business to turn out an article up to

In the evening the Virginian brought Shorty into his room. He usually knew what he had to say, usually

found it easy to arrange his thoughts; and after such arranging the words came of themselves. But as he

looked at Shorty, this did not happen to him. There was not a line of badness in the face; yet also there was

not a line of strength; no promise in eye, or nose, or chin; the whole thing melted to a stubby, featureless

mediocrity. It was a countenance like thousands; and hopelessness filled the Virginian as he looked at this

"I wonder what the thermometer has got to be," he said. "Yu' can see it, if yu'll hold the lamp to that right side

Shorty held the lamp. "I never used any," he said, looking out at the instrument, nevertheless.

The Virginian had forgotten that Shorty could not read. So he looked out of the window himself, and found

that it was twentytwo below zero. "This is pretty good tobacco," he remarked; and Shorty helped himself,

The lost dog's eyes showed plain astonishment. "We didn't see you out there," said he.

"Well," said the foreman, "it'll soon not be freezing any more; and then we'll all be warm enough with work.

Everybody will be working all over the range. And I wish I knew somebody that had a lot of stable work to

"There is a time coming," said the Virginian, "when I'll want somebody that knows how to get the friendship

of hawsses. I'll want him to handle some special hawsses the Judge has plans about. Judge Henry would pay

"Well, yes. Sometimes a man canwhen he's not worth it, I mean. But it don't generally last."

"Oh, yes. But I mean when I was fooling around the earth, jumping from job to job, and helling all over town

between whiles. I was not worth fifty a month then, nor twentyfive. But there was nights I made a heap

The Virginian knew that he was thinking about the money he sent East. "After a while," he continued, "I

noticed a right strange fact. The money I made easy that I WASN'T worth, it went like it came. I strained

myself none gettin' or spendin' it. But the money I made hard that I WAS worth, why I began to feel right

careful about that. And now I have got savings stowed away. If once yu' could know how good that feels"

"Well, if I had took up land along a creek that never goes dry and proved upon it like you have, and if I had

"Why did you lift no finger?" cut in the Virginian. "Who stopped yu' taking up land? Did it not stretch in

front of yu', behind yu', all around yu', the biggest, baldest opportunity in sight? That was the time I lifted my

"But never mind that," said the Virginian. "Take my land away tomorrow, and I'd still have my savings in

bank. Because, you see, I had to work right hard gathering them in. I found out what I could do, and I settled

down and did it. Now you can do that too. The only tough part is the finding out what you're good for. And

for you, that is found. If you'll just decide to work at this thing you can do, and gentle those hawsses for the

The Virginian was on the point of saying, "Then get out!" But instead, he spoke kindness to the end. "The

weather is freezing yet," he said, "and it will be for a good long while. Take your time, and tell me if yu'

After that Shorty returned to the bunk house, and the Virginian knew that the boy had learned his lesson of

discontent from Trampas with a thoroughness past all unteaching. This petty triumph of evil seemed scarce of

the size to count as any victory over the Virginian. But all men grasp at straws. Since that first moment, when

in the Medicine Bow saloon the Virginian had shut the mouth of Trampas by a word, the man had been trying

to get even without risk; and at each successive clash of his weapon with the Virginian's, he had merely met

another public humiliation. Therefore, now at the Sunk Creek Ranch in these cold white days, a certain

lurking insolence in his gait showed plainly his opinion that by disaffecting Shorty he had made some sort of

Yes, he had poisoned the lost dog. In the springtime, when the neighboring ranches needed additional hands,

it happened as the Virginian had foreseen,Trampas departed to a "better job," as he took pains to say, and

Love now was not any longer snowbound. The mountain trails were open enough for the sure feet of love's

steedthat horse called Monte. But duty blocked the path of love. Instead of turning his face to Bear Creek,

the foreman had other journeys to make, full of heavy work, and watchfulness, and councils with the Judge.

The cattle thieves were growing bold, and winter had scattered the cattle widely over the range. Therefore the

Virginian, instead of going to see her, wrote a letter to his sweetheart. It was his first.

The letter which the Virginian wrote to Molly Wood was, as has been stated, the first that he had ever

addressed to her. I think, perhaps, he may have been a little shy as to his skill in the epistolary art, a little

anxious lest any sustained production from his pen might contain blunders that would too staringly remind

her of his scant learning. He could turn off a business communication about steers or stock cars, or any other

of the subjects involved in his profession, with a brevity and a clearness that led the Judge to confide

threequarters of such correspondence to his foreman. "Write to the 76 outfit," the Judge would say, "and tell

them that my wagon cannot start for the roundup until," etc.; or "Write to Cheyenne and say that if they will

hold a meeting next Monday week, I will," etc. And then the Virginian would write such communications

But his first message to his lady was scarcely written with ease. It must be classed, I think, among those

productions which are styled literary EFFORTS. It was completed in pencil before it was copied in ink; and

that first draft of it in pencil was wellnigh illegible with erasures and amendments. The state of mind of the

writer during its composition may be gathered without further description on my part from a slight

The door opened, and Scipio put his head in. "You coming to dinner?" he inquired.

"My links!" said Scipio, quietly, and he shut the door without further observation.

To tell the truth, I doubt if this letter would ever have been undertaken, far less completed and despatched,

had not the lover's heart been wrung with disappointment. All winter long he had looked to that day when he

should knock at the girl's door, and hear her voice bid him come in. All winter long he had been choosing the

ride he would take her. He had imagined a sunny afternoon, a hidden grove, a sheltering cleft of rock, a

running spring, and some words of his that should conquer her at last and leave his lips upon hers. And with

this controlled fire pent up within him, he had counted the days, scratching them off his calendar with a dig

each night that once or twice snapped the pen. Then, when the trail stood open, this meeting was deferred, put

off for indefinite days, or weeks; he could not tell how long. So, gripping his pencil and tracing heavy words,

The letter, duly stamped and addressed to Bear Creek, set forth upon its travels; and these were devious and

long. When it reached its destination, it was some twenty days old. It had gone by private hand at the outset,

taken the stagecoach at a way point, become late in that stagecoach, reached a point of transfer, and waited

there for the postmaster to begin, continue, end, and recover from a game of poker, mingled with wl1iskey.

Then it once more proceeded, was dropped at the right way point, and carried by private hand to Bear Creek.

The experience of this letter, however, was not at all a remarkable one at that time in Wyoming.

Molly Wood looked at the envelope. She had never before seen the Virginian's handwriting She knew it

My Dear Miss Wood: I am sorry about this. My plan was different. It was to get over for a ride with you

about now or sooner. This year Spring is early. The snow is off the flats this side the range and where the sun

gets a chance to hit the earth strong all day it is green and has flowers too, a good many. You can see them

bob and mix together in the wind. The quakingasps down low on the South side are in small leaf and will

soon be twinkling like the flowers do now. I had planned to take a look at this with you and that was a better

plan than what I have got to do. The water is high but I could have got over and as for the snow on top of the

mountain a man told me nobody could cross it for a week yet, because he had just done it himself. Was not he

a funny man? You ought to see how the birds have streamed across the sky while Spring was coming. But

you have seen them on your side of the mountain. But I can't come now Miss Wood. There is a lot for me to

do that has to be done and Judge Henry needs more than two eyes just now. I could not think much of myself

But the days will be warmer when I come. We will not have to quit by five, and we can get off and sit too.

We could not sit now unless for a very short while. If I know when I can come I will try to let you know, but

I think it will be this way. I think you will just see me coming for I have things to do of an unsure nature and

a good number of such. Do not believe reports about Indians. They are started by editors to keep the soldiers

in the country. The friends of the editors get the hay and beef contracts. Indians do not come to settled parts

Nothing has happened worth telling you. I have read that play Othello. No man should write down such a

thing. Do you know if it is true? I have seen one worse affair down in Arizona. He killed his little child as

well as his wife but such things should not be put down in fine language for the public. I have read Romeo

and Juliet. That is beautiful language but Romeo is no man. I like his friend Mercutio that gets killed. He is a

Well Miss Wood I would like to see you today. Do you know what I think Monte would do if I rode him out

and let the rein slack? He would come straight to your gate for he is a horse of great judgement. ("That's the

first word he has misspelled," said Molly.) I suppose you are sitting with George Taylor and those children

right now. Then George will get old enough to help his father but Uncle Hewie's twins will be ready for you

about then and the supply will keep coming from all quarters all sizes for you to say big A little a to them.

There is no news here. Only calves and cows and the hens are laying now which does always seem news to a

hen every time she does it. Did I ever tell you about a hen Emily we had here? She was venturesome to an

extent I have not seen in other hens only she had poor judgement and would make no family ties. She would

keep trying to get interest in the ties of others taking charge of little chicks and bantams and turkeys and

puppies one time, and she thought most anything was an egg. I will tell you about her sometime. She died

without family ties one day while I was building a house for her to teach school in. ("The outrageous

wretch!" cried Molly!" And her cheeks turned deep pink as she sat alone with her lover's letter.)

I am coming the first day I am free. I will be a hundred miles from you most of the time when I am not more

but I will ride a hundred miles for one hour and Monte is up to that. After never seeing you for so long I will

make one hour do if I have to. Here is a flower I have just been out and picked. I have kissed it now. That is

Molly laid the letter in her lap and looked at the flower. Then suddenly she jumped up and pressed it to her

It was some time before she finished the letter. Then once more she got up and put on her hat.

Mrs. Taylor wondered where the girl could be walking so fast. But she was not walking anywhere, and in half

an hour she returned, rosy with her swift exercise, but with a spirit as perturbed as when she had set out.

Next morning at six, when she looked out of her window, there was Monte tied to the Taylor's gate. Ah,

could he have come the day before, could she have found him when she returned from that swift walk of

It was not even an hour's visit that the Virginian was able to pay his lady love. But neither had he come a

hundred miles to see her. The necessities of his wandering work had chanced to bring him close enough for a

glimpse of her, and this glimpse he took, almost on the wing. For he had to rejoin a company of men at once.

"Yesterday! I wrote it three weeks ago. Well, yu' got it. This cannot be the hour with you that I mentioned.

"Today does not count," he told her, "except that every time I see you counts with me. But this is not the

What little else was said between them upon this early morning shall be told duly. For this visit in its own

good time did count momentously, though both of them took it lightly while its fleeting minutes passed. He

returned to her two volumes that she had lent him long ago and with Taylor he left a horse which he had

brought for her to ride. As a goodby, he put a bunch of flowers in her hand. Then he was gone, and she

watched him going by the thick bushes along the stream. They were pink with wild roses; and the

meadowlarks, invisible in the grass, like hiding choristers, sent up across the empty miles of air their

unexpected song. Earth and sky had been propitious, could he have stayed; and perhaps one portion of her

heart had been propitious too. So, as he rode away on Monte, she watched him, half chilled by reason, half

melted by passion, selfthwarted, selfaccusing, unresolved. Therefore the days that came for her now were

all of them unhappy ones, while for him they were filled with work well done and with changeless longing.

One day it seemed as if a lull was coming, a pause in which he could at last attain that hour with her. He left

the camp and turned his face toward Bear Creek. The way led him along Butte Creek. Across the stream lay

Balaam's large ranch; and presently on the other bank he saw Balaam himself, and reined in Monte for a

"That's what I've heard," he muttered to himself. For Balaam had led some horses to the water, and was

lashing them heavily because they would not drink. He looked at this spectacle so intently that he did not see

But the Virginian gave him a pleasant greeting, "I was afraid I'd not catch you so quick," said Shorty. "This is

for you." He handed his recent foreman a letter of much battered appearance. It was from the Judge. It had

not come straight, but very gradually, in the pockets of three successive cowpunchers. As the Virginian

glanced over it and saw that the enclosure it contained was for Balaam, his heart fell. Here were new orders

"Hello, Shorty!" said Balaam, from over the creek. To the Virginian he gave a slight nod. He did not know

"Hyeh's a letter from Judge Henry for yu'" said the Virginian, and he crossed the creek.

Many weeks before, in the early spring, Balaam had borrowed two horses from the Judge, promising to return

them at once. But the Judge, of course, wrote very civilly. He hoped that "this dunning reminder" might be

excused. As Balaam read the reminder, he wished that he had sent the horses before. The Judge was a greater

man than he in the Territory. Balaam could not but excuse the "dunning reminder,"but he was ready to be

"Well," he said, musing aloud in his annoyance, "Judge Henry wants them by the 30th. Well, this is the 24th,

That made a difference! Not so easy to reach Sunk Creek in good order by the 30th! Balaam had drifted three

sunrises behind the progress of the month. Days look alike, and often lose their very names in the quiet

depths of Cattle Land. The horses were not even here at the ranch. Balaam was ready to be very disagreeable

now. Suddenly he perceived the date of the Judge's letter. He held it out to the Virginian, and struck the

Now, when he had struck that paper, Shorty looked at the Virginian. But nothing happened beyond a certain

change of light in the Southerner's eyes. And when the Southerner spoke, it was with his usual gentleness and

civility. He explained that the letter had been put in his hands just now by Shorty.

"Oh," said Balaam. He looked at Shorty. How had he come to be a messenger? "You working for the Sunk

Balaam turned to the Virginian again. "How do you expect me to get those horses to Sunk Creek by the

The Virginian levelled a lazy eye on Balaam. "I ain' doin' any expecting," said he. His native dialect was on

top today. "The Judge has friends goin' to arrive from New Yawk for a trip across the Basin," he added.

Balaam grunted with displeasure, and thought of the sixty or seventy days since he had told the Judge he

would return the horses at once. He looked across at Shorty seated in the shade, and through his uneasy

thoughts his instinct irrelevantly noted what a good pony the youth rode. It was the same animal he had seen

once or twice before. But something must be done. The Judge's horses were far out on the big range, and

must be found and driven in, which would take certainly the rest of this day, possibly part of the next.

Balaam called to one of his men and gave some sharp orders, emphasizing details, and enjoining haste, while

the Virginian leaned slightly against his horse, with one arm over the saddle, hearing and understanding, but

not smiling outwardly. The man departed to saddle up for his search on the big range, and Balaam resumed

"So you're not working for the Sunk Creek outfit now?" he inquired of Shorty. He ignored the Virginian.

Balaam grinned. He noticed how Shorty's yellow hair stuck through a hole in his hat, and how old and

battered were Shorty's overalls. Shorty had been glad to take a little accidental pay for becoming the bearer of

the letter which he had delivered to the Virginian. But even that sum was no longer in his possession. He had

passed through Drybone on his way, and at Drybone there had been a game of poker. Shorty's money was

now in the pocket of Trampas. But he had one valuable possession in the world left to him, and that was his

"Good pony of yours," said Balaam to him now, from across Butte Creek. Then he struck his own horse in

Balaam loosed the strap he had forgotten, and cut the horse again for consistency's sake. The animal,

bewildered, now came down to the water, with its head in the air, and snuffing as it took short, nervous steps.

The Virginian looked on at this, silent and sombre. He could scarcely interfere between another man and his

own beast. Neither he nor Balaam was among those who say their prayers. Yet in this omission they were not

equal. A halfgreat poet once had a wholly great day, and in that great day he was able to write a poem that

has lived and become, with many, a household word. He called it The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. And it is

"He prayeth well who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best who loveth best All things

These lines are the pure gold. They are good to teach children; because after the children come to be men,

they may believe at least some part of them still. The Virginian did not know them,but his heart had taught

him many things. I doubt if Balaam knew them either. But on him they would have been as pearls to swine.

For the Virginian knew that he had been turned off for going to sleep while nightherding.

"Hello, Shorty!" he called out, for the boy was departing. "Don't you like dinner any more? It's ready about

Shorty forded the creek and slung his saddle off, and on invitation turned Pedro, his buckskin pony, into

Balaam's pasture. This was green, the rest of the wide world being yellow, except only where Butte Creek,

with its bordering cottonwoods, coiled away into the desert distance like a green snake without end. The

Virginian also turned his horse into the pasture. He must stay at the ranch till the Judge's horses should be

He wanted Shorty to dine with him, and could not exclude the Virginian, much as he should have enjoyed

"They're headin' the other way," observed the Virginian. "Bow Laig Range is where they was repawted."

"What business have they got off the reservation, I'd like to know," said the ranchman_" Bow Leg, or

"Oh, it's just a hunt, and a kind of visitin' their friends on the South Reservation," Shorty explained. "Squaws

"Well, if the folks at Washington don't keep squaws and all where they belong," said Balaam, in a rage, "the

"There's a petition out," said Shorty. "Paper's goin' East with a lot of names to it. But they ain't no harm, them

Balaam's Eastern grammar was sometimes at the mercy of his Western feelings. The thought of the perennial

stultification of Indian affairs at Washington, whether by politician or philanthropist, was always sure to

arouse him. He walked impatiently about while he spoke, and halted impatiently at the window. Out in the

world the unclouded day was shining, and Balaam's eye travelled across the plains to where a blue line, faint

and pale, lay along the end of the vast yellow distance. That was the beginning of the Bow Leg Mountains.

Somewhere over there were the red men, ranging in unfrequented depths of rock and pinetheir forbidden

"And I suppose," Balaam continued, still hot on the subject, "you'd claim Indians object to killing a white

man when they run on to him good and far from human help? These peaceable Indians are just the worst in

"That's so," assented the easyopinioned Shorty, exactly as if he had always maintained this view. "Chap

started for Sunk Creek three weeks ago. Trapper he was; old like, with a red shirt. One of his horses come

into the roundup Toosday. Man ain't been heard from." He ate in silence for a while, evidently brooding in

his childlike mind. Then he said, querulously, "I'd sooner trust one of them Indians than I would Trampas."

Balaam slanted his fat bullet head far to one side, and laying his spoon down (he had opened some canned

The guest ate a grape, and perceiving he was seen through, smiled back rather miserably.

"Say, Shorty," said Balaam, his head still slanted over, "what's the figures of your bank balance just now?"

Balaam put some more grapes on Shorty's plate, and drawing a cigar from his waistcoat, sent it rolling to his

"Matches are behind you," he added. He gave a cigar to the Virginian as an afterthought, but to his disgust,

Balaam accompanied his guest, Shorty, when he went to the pasture to saddle up and depart. "Got a rope?" he

Hiding his bridle behind him, Shorty walked to the riverbank, where thepony was switching his long tail in

the shade; and speaking persuasively to him, he came nearer, till he laid his hand on Pedro's dusky mane,

which was many shades darker than his hide. He turned expectantly, and his master came up to his

"Likes the salt," said Shorty. "Now, nnow, here! Yu' don't guess yu'll be bridled, don't you? Open your

teeth! Yu'd like to play yu' was nobody's horse and live private? Or maybe yu'd prefer ownin' a saloon?"

Pedro evidently enjoyed this talk, and the dodging he made about the bit. Once fairly in his mouth, he

accepted the inevitable, and followed Shorty to the bars. Then Shorty turned and extended his hand.

"Shake!" he said to his pony, who lifted his forefoot quietly and put it in his master's hand. Then the master

tickled his nose, and he wrinkled it and flattened his ears, pretending to bite. His face wore an expression of

knowing relish over this performance. "Now the other hoof," said Shorty; and the horse and master shook

hands with their left. "I learned him that," said the cowboy, with pride and affection. "Say, Pede," he

continued, in Pedro's ear, "ain't yu' the best little horse in the country? What? Here, now! Keep out of that,

you deadbeat! There ain't no more bread." He pinched the pony's nose, one quarter of which was wedged

"Quite a lady's little pet!" said Balaam, with the rasp in his voice. "Pity this isn't New York, now, where

"He ain't no geegee," said Shorty, offended. "He'll beat any cowpony workin' you've got. Yu' can turn him

on a halfdollar. Don't need to touch the reins. Hang 'em on one finger and swing your body, and he'll turn."

Balaam knew this, and he knew that the pony was only a fouryearold. "Well," he said, "Drybone's had no

circus this season. Maybe they'd buy tickets to see Pedro. He's good for that, anyway.

Shorty became gloomy. The Virginian was grimly smoking. Here was something else going on not to his

"Try a circus," persisted Balaam. "Alter your plans for spending cash in town, and make a little money

Shorty spoke up instantly. "A hundred dollars couldn't buy that piece of stale mud off his back," he asserted,

But Balaam looked at Shorty, "You keep the mud," he said, "and I'll give you thirty dollars for the horse."

"Give you thirty dollars," repeated Balaam, picking a stone up and slinging it into the river.

"How far do yu' call it to Drybone?" Shorty remarked, stooping to investigate the buckingstrap on his

"You won't have to walk," said Balaam. "Stay all night, and I'll send you over comfortably in the morning,

"Walk?" Shorty retorted. "Drybone's twentyfive miles. Pedro'll put me there in three hours and not know he

"No, sir," mumbled Shorty, with his head under Pedro's belly, busily cinching. "A hundred dollars is bottom

Balaam, in his turn, now duly performed some professional laughing, which was noted by Shorty under the

horse's belly. He stood up and squared round on Balaam. "Well, then," he said, what'll yu give for him?"

"Thirty dollars," said Balaam, looking far off into the sky, as Shorty had looked."Oh, come, now,"

It was he who now did the feeling for an offer and this was what Balaam liked to see. "Why yes," he said,

"I thought yu'd quit them first figures," said the cowpuncher, "for yu' can see I ain't goin' to look at em.

Balaam climbed on the fence and sat there "I'm not crying for your Pedro," he observed dispassionately.

"Only it struck me you were dead broke, and wanted to raise cash and keep yourself going till you hunted up

a job and could buy him back." He hooked his right thumb inside his waistcoat pocket. "But I'm not cryin' for

him," he repeated. "He'd stay right here, of course. I wouldn't part with him. Why does he stand that way?

Hello!" Balaam suddenly straightened himself, like a man who has made a discovery.

Balaam was staring at Pedro with a judicial frown. Then he stuck out a finger at the horse, keeping the thumb

hooked in his pocket. So meagre a gesture was felt by the ruffled Shorty to be no just way to point at Pedro.

Balaam climbed down from his fence and came over with elaborate deliberation. He passed his hand up and

down the off foreleg. Then he spit slenderly. "Mm!" he said thoughtfully; and added, with a shade of sadness,

Shorty slid his hand slowly over the disputed leg. "What's to be expected?" he inquired"that they'll eat

"Sprung," continued Balaam, with a sigh. "Whirling round short when his bones were soft did that. Yes."

"Sprung!" Shorty said, with a bark of indignation. "Come on, Pede; you and me'll spring for town."

He caught the horn of the saddle, and as he swung into place the horse rushed away with him. "Oee!

yoiyup, yup, yup!" sang Shorty, in the shrill cow dialect. He made Pedro play an exhibition game of speed,

bringing him round close to Balaam in a wide circle, and then he vanished in dust down the leftbank trail.

Balaam looked after him and laughed harshly. He had seen trout dash about like that when the hook in their

jaw first surprised them. He knew Shorty would show the pony off, and he knew Shorty's love for Pedro was

not equal to his need of money. He called to one of his men, asked something about the dam at the mouth of

the canyon, where the main irrigation ditch began, made a remark about the prolonged drought, and then

"Say," said the youth, "do you consider that's any way to talk about a good horse?"

"Any dude could see the leg's sprung," said Balaam. But he looked at Pedro's shoulder, which was well laid

back; and he admired his points, dark in contrast with the buckskin, and also the width between the eyes.

"Now you know," whined Shorty, "that it ain't sprung any more than your leg's cork. If you mean the right leg

ain't plumb straight, I can tell you he was born so. That don't make no difference, for it ain't weak. Try him

onced. Just as sound and strong as iron. Never stumbles. And he don't never go to jumpin' with yu'. He's kind

and he's smart." And the master petted his pony, who lifted a hoof for another handshake.

Of course Balaam had never thought the leg was sprung, and he now took on an unprejudiced air of wanting

"Is this your deal, my friend?" inquired Balaam. And he slanted his bullet head at the Virginian.

"Give him away, Shorty," drawled the Southerner. "His laig is busted. Mr. Balaam says so."

Balaam's face grew evil with baffled fury. But the Virginian was gravely considering Pedro. He, too, was not

pleased. But he could not interfere. Already he had overstepped the code in these matters. He would have

dearly likedfor reasons good and bad, spite and mercy mingledto have spoiled Balaam's market, to have

offered a reasonable or even an unreasonable price for Pedro, and taken possession of the horse himself. But

this might not be. In bets, in card games, in all horse transactions and other matters of similar business, a man

must take care of himself, and wiser onlookers must suppress their wisdom and hold their peace.

That evening Shorty again had a cigar. He had parted with Pedro for forty dollars, a striped Mexican blanket,

and a pair of spurs. Undressing over in the bunk house, he said to the Virginian, "I'll sure buy Pedro back off

him just as soon as ever I rustle some cash." The Virginian grunted. He was thinking he should have to travel

hard to get the horses to the Judge by the 30th; and below that thought lay his aching disappointment and his

In the early dawn Shorty sat up among his blankets on the floor of the bunk house and saw the various

sleepers coiled or sprawled in their beds; their breathing had not yet grown restless at the nearing of day. He

stepped to the door carefully, and saw the crowding blackbirds begin their walk and chatter in the mud of the

littered and trodden corrals. From beyond among the cotton woods, came continually the smooth unemphatic

sound of the doves answering each other invisibly; and against the empty ridge of the riverbluff lay the

moon, no longer shining, for there was established a new light through the sky. Pedro stood in the pasture

close to the bars. The cowboy slowly closed the door behind him, and sitting down on the step, drew his

money out and idly handled it, taking no comfort just then from its possession. Then he put it back, and after

dragging on his boots, crossed to the pasture, and held a last talk with his pony, brushing the cakes of mud

from his hide where he had rolled, and passing a lingering hand over his mane. As the sounds of the morning

came increasingly from tree and plain, Shorty glanced back to see that no one was yet out of the cabin, and

then put his arms round the horse's neck, laying his head against him. For a moment the cowboy's

insignificant face was exalted by the emotion he would never have let others see. He hugged tight this animal,

"No," said his master, sorrowfully, "not any more. Yu' know well I'd give it yu' if I had it. You and me didn't

He hugged his pony again, and got as far as the bars of the pasture, but returned once more. "Goodby, my

little horse, my dear horse, my little, little Pedro," he said, as his tears wet the pony's neck. Then he wiped

them with his hand, and got himself back to the bunk house. After breakfast he and his belongings departed to

Drybone, and Pedro from his field calmly watched this departure; for horses must recognize even less than

men the black corners that their destinies turn. The pony stopped feeding to look at the mailwagon pass by;

Resigned to wait for the Judge's horses, Balaam went into his office this dry, bright morning and read nine

accumulated newspapers; for he was behindhand. Then he rode out on the ditches, and met his man returning

with the troublesome animals at last. He hastened home and sent for the Virginian. He had made a decision.

"See here," he said; "those horses are coming. What trail would you take over to the Judge's?"

"Shortest trail's right through the Bow Laig Mountains," said the foreman, in his gentle voice.

"Guess you're right. It's dinnertime. We'll start right afterward. We'll make Little Muddy Crossing by

sundown, and Sunk Creek tomorrow, and the next day'll see us through. Can a wagon get through Sunk

Balaam told them to saddle Pedro and one packhorse, and drive the bunch of horses into a corral, roping the

Judge's two, who proved extremely wild. He had decided to take this journey himself on remembering certain

politics soon to be rife in Cheyenne. For Judge Henry was indeed a greater man than Balaam. This personally

conducted return of the horses would temper its tardiness, and, moreover, the sight of some New York

visitors would be a good thing after seven months of no warmer touch with that metropolis than the Sunday

They forded Butte Creek, and, crossing the welltravelled trail which follows down to Drybone, turned their

faces toward the uninhabited country that began immediately, as the ocean begins off a sandy shore. And as a

single mast on which no sail is shining stands at the horizon and seems to add a loneliness to the surrounding

sea, so the long gray line of fence, almost a mile away, that ended Balaam's land on this side the creek,

stretched along the waste ground and added desolation to the plain. No solitary watercourse with margin of

cottonwoods or willow thickets flowed here to stripe the dingy, yellow world with interrupting green, nor

were cattle to be seen dotting the distance, nor moving objects at all, nor any bird in the soundless air. The

last gate was shut by the Virginian, who looked back at the pleasant trees of the ranch, and then followed on

No cloud was in the sky. The desert's grim noon shone sombrely on flat and hill. The sagebrush was dull like

zinc. Thick heat rose near at hand from the caked alkali, and pale heat shrouded the distant peaks.

There were five horses. Balaam led on Pedro, his squat figure stiff in the saddle, but solid as a rock, and tilted

a little forward, as his habit was. One of the Judge's horses came next, a sorrel, dragging back continually on

the rope by which he was led. After him ambled Balaam's wise packanimal, carrying the light burden of two

days' food and lodging. She was an old mare who could still go when she chose, but had been schooled by the

years, and kept the trail, giving no trouble to the Virginian who came behind her. He also sat solid as a rock,

yet subtly bending to the struggles of the wild horse he led, as a steel spring bends and balances and resumes

Thus they made but slow time, and when they topped the last dull rise of ground and looked down on the

long slant of ragged, caked earth to the crossing of Little Muddy, with its single tree and few mean bushes,

the final distance where eyesight ends had deepened to violet from the thin, steady blue they had stared at for

so many hours, and all heat was gone from the universal dryness. The horses drank a long time from the

sluggish yellow water, and its alkaline taste and warmth were equally welcome to the men. They built a little

fire, and when supper was ended, smoked but a short while and in silence, before they got in the blankets that

They had picketed the two horses of the Judge in the best grass they could find, letting the rest go free to find

pasture where they could. When the first light came, the Virginian attended to breakfast, while Balaam rode

away on the sorrel to bring in the loose horses. They had gone far out of sight, and when he returned with

them, after some two hours, he was on Pedro. Pedro was soaking with sweat, and red froth creamed from his

mouth. The Virginian saw the horses must have been hard to drive in, especially after Balaam brought them

"If you'd kep' ridin' him, 'stead of changin' off on your hawss, they'd have behaved quieter," said the foreman.

"That's good seasonable advice," said Balaam, sarcastically. "I could have told you that now."

"I could have told you when you started," said the Virginian, heating the coffee for Balaam.

Balaam was eloquent on the outrageous conduct of the horses. He had come up with them evidently striking

"But I soon showed her the road she was to go," he said, as he drove them now to the water.

The Virginian noticed the slight limp of the mare, and how her pastern was cut as if with a stone or the sharp

"I guess she'll not be in a hurry to travel except when she's wanted to," continued Balaam. He sat down, and

sullenly poured himself some coffee. "We'll be in luck if we make any Sunk Creek this night."

He went on with his breakfast, thinking aloud for the benefit of his companion, who made no comments,

preferring silence to the discomfort of talking with a man whose vindictive humor was so thoroughly

uppermost. He did not even listen very attentively, but continued his preparations for departure, washing the

dishes, rolling the blankets, and moving about in his usual way of easy and visible good nature.

"Six o'clock, already," said Balaam, saddling the horses. "And we'll not get started for ten minutes more."

Then he came to Pedro. "So you haven't quit fooling yet, haven't you?" he exclaimed, for the pony shrank as

he lifted the bridle. "Take that for your sore mouth!" and he rammed the bit in, at which Pedro flung back and

"Ah, rubbish!" said Balaam. "They're all the same. Not a bastard one but's laying for his chance to do for you.

Some'll buck you off, and some'll roll with you, and some'll fight you with their fore feet. They may play

good for a year, but the Western pony's man's enemy, and when he judges he's got his chance, he's going to

do his best. And if you come out alive it won't be his fault." Balaam paused for a while, packing. "You've got

to keep them afraid of you," he said next; "that's what you've got to do if you don't want trouble. That Pedro

horse there has been fed, handfed, and fooled with like a damn pet, and what's that policy done? Why, he

goes ugly when he thinks it's time, and decides he'll not drive any horses into camp this morning. He knows

Balaam shook his head. "You'll not do that right now or any other time," said he. "I happen to want him."

The Virginian could do no more. He had heard cowpunchers say to refractory ponies, "You keep still, or I'll

Meanwhile Balaam began to lead Pedro to the creek for a last drink before starting across the torrid drought.

The horse held back on the rein a little, and Balaam turned and cut the whip across his forehead. A delay of

forcing and backing followed, while the Virginian, already in the saddle, waited. The minutes passed, and no

"He ain' goin' to follow you while you're beatin' his haid," the Southerner at length remarked.

Again the Southerner levelled his eye on Balaam. "All right," he said, in the same gentle voice. "And don't

The road was shadeless, as it had been from the start, and they could not travel fast. During the first few

hours all coolness was driven out of the glassy morning, and another day of illimitable sun invested the world

with its blaze. The pale Bow Leg Range was coming nearer, but its hard hot slants and rifts suggested no sort

of freshness, and even the pines that spread for wide miles along near the summit counted for nothing in the

distance and the glare, but seemed mere patches of dull dry discoloration. No talk was exchanged between the

two travellers, for the cowpuncher had nothing to say and Balaam was sulky, so they moved along in silent

But the slow succession of rise and fall in the plain changed and shortened. The earth's surface became

lumpy, rising into mounds and knotted systems of steep small hills cut apart by staring gashes of sand, where

water poured in the spring from the melting snow. After a time they ascended through the foothills till the

plain below was for a while concealed, but came again into view in its entirety, distant and a thing of the past,

while some magpies sailed down to meet them from the new country they were entering. They passed up

through a small transparent forest of dead trees standing stark and white, and a little higher came on a line of

narrow moisture that crossed the way and formed a stale pool among some willow thickets. They turned aside

to water their horses, and found near the pool a circular spot of ashes and some poles lying, and beside these a

There were the tracks of five or six horses on the farther side of the pool, and they did not come into the trail,

"They're about a week old," said Balaam. "It's part of that outfit that's been hunting."

"Well," said the Virginian, calculating, "it's mighty nigh fo'ty miles from Muddy Crossin', an' I reckon we've

"Just about. It's noon." Balaam snapped his watch shut. "We'll rest here till 12:30."

When it was time to go, the Virginian looked musingly at the mountains. "We'll need to travel right smart to

"Tell you what," said Balaam; "we'll rope the Judge's horses together and drive 'em in front of us. That'll

"They can't get away from me, I guess," said Balaam, and the arrangement was adopted. "We're the first this

His companion had noticed the ground already, and assented. There were no tracks anywhere to be seen over

which winter had not come and gone since they had been made. Presently the trail wound into a sultry gulch

that hemmed in the heat and seemed to draw down the sun's rays more vertically. The sorrel horse chose this

place to make a try for liberty. He suddenly whirled from the trail, dragging with him his less inventive

fellow. Leaving the Virginian with the old mare, Balaam headed them off, for Pedro was quick, and they

came jumping down the bank together, but swiftly crossed up on the other side, getting much higher before

they could be reached. It was no place for this sort of game, as the sides of the ravine were ploughed with

steep channels, broken with jutting knobs of rock, and impeded by short twisted pines that swung out from

their roots horizontally over the pitch of the hill. The Virginian helped, but used his horse with more

judgment, keeping as much on the level as possible, and endeavoring to anticipate the next turn of the

runaways before they made it, while Balaam attempted to follow them close, wheeling short when they

doubled, heavily beating up the face of the slope, veering again to come down to the point he had left, and

whenever he felt Pedro begin to flag, driving his spurs into the horse and forcing him to keep up the pace. He

had set out to overtake and capture on the side of the mountain these two animals who had been running wild

for many weeks, and now carried no weight but themselves, and the futility of such work could not penetrate

his obstinate and rising temper. He had made up his mind not to give in. The Virginian soon decided to move

slowly along for the present, preventing the wild horses from passing down the gulch again, but otherwise

saving his own animal from useless fatigue. He saw that Pedro was reeking wet, with mouth open, and

constantly stumbling, though he galloped on. The cowpuncher kept the group in sight, driving the packhorse

in front of him, and watching the tactics of the sorrel, who had now undoubtedly become the leader of the

expedition, and was at the top of the gulch, in vain trying to find an outlet through its rocky rim to the levels

above. He soon judged this to be no thoroughfare, and changing his plan, trotted down to the bottom and up

the other side, gaining more and more; for in this new descent Pedro had fallen twice. Then the sorrel showed

the cleverness of a genuinely vicious horse. The Virginian saw him stop and fall to kicking his companion

with all the energy that a short rope would permit. The rope slipped, and both, unencumbered, reached the top

and disappeared. Leaving the packhorse for Balaam, the Virginian started after them and came into a high

tableland, beyond which the mountains began in earnest. The runaways were moving across toward these at

an easy rate. He followed for a moment, then looking back, and seeing no sign of Balaam, waited, for the

He got out of the saddle and sat on the ground, watching, till the mare came up slowly into sight, and Balaam

behind her. When they were near, Balaam dismounted and struck Pedro fearfully, until the stick broke, and he

Seeing the pony's condition, the Virginian spoke, and said, "I'd let that hawss alone."

Balaam turned to him, but wholly possessed by passion did not seem to hear, and the Southerner noticed how

"He played he was tired," said Balaam, looking at the Virginian with glazed eyes. The violence of his rage

affected him physically, like some stroke of illness. "He played out on me on purpose." The man's voice was

dry and light. "He's perfectly fresh now," he continued, and turned again to the coughing, swaying horse,

whose eyes were closed. Not having the stick, he seized the animal's unresisting head and shook it. The

Virginian watched him a moment, and rose to stop such a spectacle. Then, as if conscious he was doing no

real hurt, Balaam ceased, and turning again in slow fashion looked across the level, where the runaways were

Again the words seemed not entirely to reach Balaam's understanding, so dulled by rage were his senses. He

made no answer, but mounted Pedro; and the failing pony walked mechanically forward, while the Virginian,

puzzled, stood looking after him. Balaam seemed without purpose of going anywhere, and stopped in a

moment. Suddenly he was at work at something. This sight was odd and new to look at. For a few seconds it

had no meaning to the Virginian as he watched. Then his mind grasped the horror, too late. Even with his cry

of execration and the tiger spring that he gave to stop Balaam, the monstrosity was wrought. Pedro sank

motionless, his head rolling flat on the earth. Balaam was jammed beneath him. The man had struggled to his

feet before the Virginian reached the spot, and the horse then lifted his head and turned it piteously round.

Then vengeance like a blast struck Balaam. The Virginian hurled him to the ground, lifted and hurled him

again, lifted him and beat his face and struck his jaw. The man's strong oxlike fighting availed nothing. He

fended his eyes as best he could against these sledgehammer blows of justice. He felt blindly for his pistol.

That arm was caught and wrenched backward, and crushed and doubled. He seemed to hear his own bones,

and set up a hideous screaming of hate and pain. Then the pistol at last came out, and together with the hand

that grasped it was instantly stamped into the dust. Once again the creature was lifted and slung so that he lay

Vengeance had come and gone. The man and the horse were motionless. Around them, silence seemed to

"If you are dead," said the Virginian, "I am glad of it." He stood looking down at Balaam and Pedro, prone in

the middle of the open tableland. Then he saw Balaam looking at him. It was the quiet stare of sight without

thought or feeling, the mere visual sense alone, almost frightful in its separation from any self. But as he

watched those eyes, the self came back into them. "I have not killed you," said the Virginian. "Well, I ain't

Then he began to attend to Balaam with impersonal skill, like some one hired for the purpose. "He ain't hurt

bad," he asserted aloud, as if the man were some nameless patient; and then to Balaam he remarked, "I

reckon it might have put a less tough man than you out of business for quite a while. I'm goin' to get some

water now." When he returned with the water, Balsam was sitting up, looking about him. He had not yet

spoken, nor did he now speak. The sunlight flashed on the sixshooter where it lay, and the Virginian secured

it. "She ain't so pretty as she was," he remarked, as he examined the weapon. "But she'll go right handy yet."

Strength was in a measure returning to Pedro. He was a young horse, and the exhaustion neither of anguish

nor of overriding was enough to affect him long or seriously. He got himself on his feet and walked

waveringly over to the old mare, and stood by her for comfort. The cowpuncher came up to him, and Pedro,

after starting back slightly, seemed to comprehend that he was in friendly hands. It was plain that he would

soon be able to travel slowly if no weight was on him, and that he would be a very good horse again. Whether

they abandoned the runaways or not, there was no staying here for night to overtake them without food or

water. The day was still high, and what its next few hours had in store the Virginian could not say, and he left

them to take care of themselves, determining meanwhile that he would take command of the minutes and

maintain the position he had assumed both as to Balaam and Pedro. He took Pedro's saddle off, threw the

mare's pack to the ground, put Balaam's saddle on her, and on that stowed or tied her original pack, which he

"I reckon you can travel," said the Virginian. "And your hawss can. If you're comin' with me, you'll ride your

mare. I'm goin' to trail them hawsses. If you're not comin' with me, your hawss comes with me, and you'll

Balaam was indifferent to this good bargain. He did not look at the other or speak, but rose and searched

about him on the ground. The Virginian was also indifferent as to whether Balaam chose to answer or not.

"I have your sixshooter, and you'll have it when I'm ready for you to. Now, I'm goin'," he concluded.

Balaam's intellect was clear enough now, and he saw that though the rest of this journey would be nearly

intolerable, it must go on. He looked at the impassive cowpuncher getting ready to no and tying a rope on

Pedro's neck to lead him, then he looked at the mountains where the runaways had vanished, and it did not

seem credible to him that he had come into such straits. He was helped stiffly on the mare, and the three

horses in single file took up their journey once more, and came slowly among the mountains The perpetual

desert was ended, and they crossed a small brook, where they missed the trail. The Virginian dismounted to

find where the horses had turned off, and discovered that they had gone straight up the ridge by the

"There's been a man camped in hyeh inside a month," he said, kicking up a rag of red flannel. "White man

It was not easy for Balaam to speak yet, and he kept his silence. But he remembered that Shorty had spoken

For three hours they followed the runaways' course over softer ground, and steadily ascending, passed one or

two springs, at length, where the mud was not yet settled in the hoofprints. Then they came through a corner

of pine forest and down a sudden bank among quakingasps to a green park. Here the runaways beside a

stream were grazing at ease, but saw them coming, and started on again, following down the stream. For the

present all to be done was to keep them in sight. This creek received tributaries and widened, making a valley

for itself. Above the bottom, lining the first terrace of the ridge, began the pines, and stretched back,

unbroken over intervening summit and basin, to cease at last where the higher peaks presided.

"This hyeh's the middle fork of Sunk Creek," said the Virginian. "We'll get on to our right road again where

Soon a game trail marked itself along the stream. If this would only continue, the runaways would be nearly

sure to follow it down into the canyon. Then there would be no way for them but to go on and come out into

their own country, where they would make for the Judge's ranch of their own accord. The great point was to

reach the canyon before dark. They passed into permanent shadow; for though the other side of the creek

shone in full day, the sun had departed behind the ridges immediately above them. Coolness filled the air, and

the silence, which in this deep valley of invading shadow seemed too silent, was relieved by the birds. Not

birds of song, but a freakish band of gray talkative observers, who came calling and croaking along through

the pines, and inspected the cavalcade, keeping it company for a while, and then flying up into the woods

again. The travellers came round a corner on a little spread of marsh, and from somewhere in the middle of it

rose a buzzard and sailed on its black pinions into the air above them, wheeling and wheeling, but did not

grow distant. As it swept over the trail, something fell from its claw, a rag of red flannel; and each man in

"I guess there is," Balaam replied, speaking at last. The travellers had become strangely reconciled.

"There's game 'most all over these mountains," the Virginian continued; "country not been settled long

enough to scare them out." So they fell into casual conversation, and for the first time were glad of each

The sound of a new bird came from the pines abovethe hoot of an owland was answered from some

other part of the wood. This they did not particularly notice at first, but soon they heard the same note,

unexpectedly distant, like an echo. The game trail, now quite a defined path beside the river, showed no sign

of changing its course or fading out into blank ground, as these uncertain guides do so often. It led

consistently in the desired direction, and the two men were relieved to see it continue. Not only were the

runaways easier to keep track of, but better speed was made along this valley. The pervading imminence of

night more and more dispelled the lingering afternoon, though there was yet no twilight in the open, and the

high peaks opposite shone yellow in the invisible sun. But now the owls hooted again. Their music had

something in it that caused both the Virginian and Balaam to look up at the pines and wish that this valley

would end. Perhaps it was early for nightbirds to begin; or perhaps it was that the sound never seemed to

fall behind, but moved abreast of them among the trees above, as they rode on without pause down below;

some influence made the faces of the travellers grave. The spell of evil which the sight of the wheeling

buzzard had begun, deepened as evening grew, while ever and again along the creek the singular call and

The sun was gone from the peaks when at length the other side of the stream opened into a long wide

meadow. The trail they followed, after crossing a flat willow thicket by the water, ran into dense pines, that

here for the first time reached all the way down to the water's edge. The two men came out of the willows,

and saw ahead the capricious runaways leave the bottom and go up the hill and enter the wood.

"We must hinder that," said the Virginian; and he dropped Pedro's rope. "There's your sixshooter. You keep

the trail, and camp down there"he pointed to where the trees came to the water"till I head them hawsses

off. I may not get back right away." He galloped up the open hill and went into the pine, choosing a place

Balaam dismounted, and picking up his sixshooter, took the rope off Pedro's neck and drove him slowly

down toward where the wood began. Its interior was already dim, and Balaam saw that here must be their

stoppingplace tonight, since there was no telling how wide this pine strip might extend along the trail

before they could come out of it and reach another suitable campingground. Pedro had recovered his

strength, and he now showed signs of restlessness. He shied where there was not even a stone in the trail, and

finally turned sharply round. Balaam expected he was going to rush back on the way they had come; but the

horse stood still, breathing excitedly. He was urged forward again, though he turned more than once. But

when they were a few paces from the wood, and Balaam had got off preparatory to camping, the horse

snorted and dashed into the water, and stood still there. The astonished Balaam followed to turn him; but

Pedro seemed to lose control of himself, and plunged to the middle of the river, and was evidently intending

to cross. Fearing that he would escape to the opposite meadow and add to their difficulties, Balaam, with the

idea of turning him round, drew his sixshooter and fired in front of the horse, divining, even as the flash cut

the dusk, the secret of all thisthe Indians; but too late. His bruised hand had stiffened, marring his aim, and

he saw Pedro fall over in the water then rise and struggle up the bank on the farther shore, where he now

He needed no interpreter for the voices of the seeming owls that had haunted the latter hour of their journey,

and he knew that his beast's keener instinct had perceived the destruction that lurked in the interior of the

wood. The history of the trapper whose horse had returned without him might have beenmight still

behis own; and he thought of the rag that had fallen from the buzzard's talons when he had been disturbed

at his meal in the marsh. "Peaceable" Indians were still in these mountains, and some few of them had for the

past hour been skirting his journey unseen, and now waited for him in the wood which they expected him to

enter. They had been too wary to use their rifles or show themselves, lest these travellers should be only part

of a larger company following, who would hear the noise of a shot, and catch them in the act of murder. So,

safe under the cover of the pines, they had planned to sling their silent noose, and drag the white man from

Balaam looked over the river at the ominous wood, and then he looked at Pedro, the horse that he had first

maimed and now ruined, to whom he probably owed his life. He was lying on the ground, quietly looking

over the green meadow, where dusk was gathering. Perhaps he was not suffering from his wound yet, as he

rested on the ground; and into his animal intelligence there probably came no knowledge of this final stroke

of his fate. At any rate, no sound of pain came from Pedro, whose friendly and gentle face remained turned

toward the meadow. Once more Balaam fired his pistol, and this time the aim was true, and the horse rolled

over, with a ball through his brain. It was the best reward that remained for him.

Then Balaam rejoined the old mare, and turned from the middle fork of Sunk Creek. He dashed across the

wide field, and went over a ridge, and found his way along in the night till he came to the old trailthe road

which they would never have left but for him and his obstinacy. He unsaddled the weary mare by Sunk

Creek, where the canyon begins, letting her drag a rope and find pasture and water, while he, lighting no fire

to betray him, crouched close under a tree till the light came. He thought of the Virginian in the wood. But

what could either have done for the other had he stayed to look for him among the pines? If the cowpuncher

came back to the corner, he would follow Balaam's tracks or not. They would meet, at any rate, where the

But they did not meet. And then to Balaam the prospect of going onward to the Sunk Creek Ranch became

more than he could bear. To come without the horses, to meet Judge Henry, to meet the guests of the Judge's,

looking as he did now after his punishment by the Virginian, to give the news about the Judge's favorite

manno, how could he tell such a story as this? Balaam went no farther than a certain cabin, where he slept,

and wrote a letter to the Judge. This the owner of the cabin delivered. And so, having spread news which

would at once cause a search for the Virginian, and having constructed such sentences to the Judge as would

most smoothly explain how, being overtaken by illness, he had not wished to be a burden at Sunk Creek,

Balaam turned homeward by himself. By the time he was once more at Butte Creek, his general appearance

One way and another, the lost dog had been able to gather some ready money. He was cheerful because of

"And so I come back, yu' see," he said. "For I figured on getting Pedro back as soon as I could when I sold

"Them Indians," said Balaam, "got after me on the Bow Leg trail. Got after me and that Virginia man. But

Balaam wagged his bullet head to imply that this escape was due to his own superior intelligence. The

Virginian had been stupid, and so the Indians had got him. "And they shot your horse," Balaam finished.

Having eaten, Shorty rode away in mournful spirits. For he had made so sure of once more riding and talking

Except for its chair and bed, the cabin was stripped almost bare. Amid its emptiness of dismantled shelves

and walls and floor, only the tiny ancestress still hung in her place, last token of the home that had been. This

miniature, tacked against the despoiled boards, and its descendant, the angry girl with her hand on an open

boxlid, made a sort of couple in the loneliness: she on the wall sweet and serene, she by the box sweet and

stormy. The picture was her final treasure waiting to be packed for the journey. In whatever room she had

called her own since childhood, there it had also lived and looked at her, not quite familiar, not quite smiling,

but in its prim colonial hues delicate as some pressed flower. Its pale oval, of color blue and rose and flaxen,

in a battered, pretty gold frame, unconquerably pervaded any surroundings with a something like last year's

lavender. Till yesterday a Crow Indian warbonnet had hung next it, a sumptuous cascade of feathers; on the

other side a bow with arrows had dangled; opposite had been the skin of a silver fox; over the door had

spread the antlers of a blacktail deer; a bearskin stretched beneath it. Thus had the whole cosey log cabin

been upholstered, lavish with trophies of the frontier; and yet it was in front of the miniature that the visitors

Shining quietly now in the cabin's blackness this summer day, the heirloom was presiding until the end. And

as Molly Wood's eyes fell upon her ancestress of Bennington, 1777, there flashed a spark of steel in them,

alone here in the room that she was leaving forever. She was not going to teach school any more on Bear

Creek, Wyoming; she was going home to Bennington, Vermont. When time came for school to open again,

This was the momentous result of that visit which the Virginian had paid her. He had told her that he was

coming for his hour soon. From that hour she had decided to escape. She was running away from her own

heart. She did not dare to trust herself face to face again with her potent, indomitable lover. She longed for

him, and therefore she would never see him again. No greataunt at Dunbarton, or anybody else that knew

her and her family, should ever say that she had married below her station, had been an unworthy Stark!

Accordingly, she had written to the Virginian, bidding him goodby, and wishing him everything in the

world. As she happened to be aware that she was taking everything in the world away from him, this letter

was not the most easy of letters to write. But she had made the language very kind. Yes; it was a thoroughly

kind communication. And all because of that momentary visit, when he had brought back to her two novels,

"How do you like them?" she had then inquired; and he had smiled slowly at her. "You haven't read them!"

Then Molly had scolded her cowpuncher, and to this he had listened with pleasure undisguised, as indeed he

"Why, it has come too late," he had told her when the scolding was over. "If I was one of your little scholars

hyeh in Bear Creek schoolhouse, yu' could learn me to like such frillery I reckon. But I'm a mighty ignorant,

"No. I am pretty glad I am a man. Else I could not have learned the thing you have taught me."

But she shut her lips and looked away. On the desk was a letter written from Vermont. "If you don't tell me at

once when you decide," had said the arch writer, "never hope to speak to me again. Mary Wood, seriously, I

am suspicious. Why do you never mention him nowadays? How exciting to have you bring a live cowboy to

Bennington! We should all come to dinner. Though of course I understand now that many of them have

excellent manners. But would he wear his pistol at table?" So the letter ran on. It recounted the latest home

gossip and jokes. In answering it Molly Wood had taken no notice of its childish tone here and there.

"Hyeh's some of them cactus blossoms yu' wanted," said the Virginian. His voice recalled the girl with almost

a start. "I've brought a good hawss I've gentled for yu', and Taylor'll keep him till I need him."

"I reckon yu' can't stop me lendin' Taylor a hawss. And you cert'nly'll get sick schoolteachin' if yu' don't keep

"I have discouraged spells," he pursued, "but I down them. For I've told yu' you were going to love me. You

are goin' to learn back the thing you have taught me. I'm riot askin' anything now; I don't want you to speak a

word to me. But I'm never goin' to quit till 'next time' is no more, and it's 'all the time' for you and me."

With that he had ridden away, not even touching her hand. Long after he had gone she was still In her chair,

her eyes lingering upon his flowers, those yellow cups of the prickly pear. At length she had risen

impatiently, caught up the flowers, gone with them to the open window,and then, after all, set them with

But today Bear Creek was over. She was going home now. By the week's end she would be started. By the

To Bear Creek, the neighborly, the friendly, the not comprehending, this move had come unlooked for, and

had brought regret. Only one hard word had been spoken to Molly, and that by her nextdoor neighbor and

kindest friend. In Mrs. Taylor's house the girl had daily come and gone as a daughter, and that lady reached

the subject thus: "When I took Taylor," said she, sitting by as Robert Browning and Jane Austen were going

"I know I've seen people at home who couldn't possibly have had any other reason. They seemed satisfied,

"Yes, you are sure, deary. Don't you think I know you? And when it comes over Taylor once in a while, and

he tells me I'm the best thing in his life, and I tell him he ain't merely the best thing but the only thing in

mine,him and the children,why, we just agree we'd do it all over the same way if we had the chance."

"And that's why," said Mrs. Taylor, "I want every girl that's anything to me to know her luck when it comes.

"If ever my luck comes," said Molly, with her back to her friend, "I shall say 'I will' at once."

"Why, you surely will. Do you expect he's going to stay here, and you in Bennington?" And the campaigner

"Child, child, you're talking cross today because you're at outs with yourself. You've been at outs ever since

you took this idea of leaving the school and us and everything this needless way. You have not treated him

right. And why, I can't make out to save me. What have you found out all of a sudden? If he was not good

enough for you, IBut, oh, it's a prime one you're losing, Molly. When a man like that stays faithful to a girl

"Kind!" And now without further simmering, Mrs. Taylor's wrath boiled up and poured copiously over Molly

Wood. "Kind! There's a word you shouldn't use, my dear. No doubt you can spell it. But more than its

spelling I guess you don't know. The children can learn what it means from some of the rest of us folks that

"I can't wait, deary. Since the roughness looks bigger to you than the diamond, you had better go back to

The good dame stalked out, and across to her own cabin, and left the angry girl among her boxes. It was in

vain she fell to work upon them. Presently something had to be done over again, and when it was the box

held several chattels less than before the readjustment. She played a sort of desperate dominos to fit these

objects in the space, but here were a paperweight, a portfolio, with two wretched volumes that no chink

would harbor; and letting them fall all at once, she straightened herself, still stormy with revolt, eyes and

cheeks still hot from the sting of longparried truth. There, on her wall still, was the miniature, the little silent

ancestress; and upon this face the girl's glance rested. It was as if she appealed to Grandmother Stark for

support and comfort across the hundred years which lay between them. So the flaxen girl on the wall and she

among the boxes stood a moment face to face in seeming communion, and then the descendant turned again

to her work. But after a desultory touch here and there she drew a long breath and walked to the open door.

What use was in finishing today, when she had nearly a week? This first spurt of toil had swept the cabin

bare of all indwelling charm, and its look was chill. Across the lane his horse, the one he had "gentled" for

her, was grazing idly. She walked there and caught him, and led him to her gate. Mrs. Taylor saw her go in,

and soon come out in ridingdress; and she watched the girl throw the saddle on with quick easethe ease

he had taught her. Mrs. Taylor also saw the sharp cut she gave the horse, and laughed grimly to herself in her

To the punished animal this switching was new! and at its third repetition he turned his head in surprise, but

was no more heeded than were the bluffs and flowers where he was taking his own undirected choice of way.

He carried her over ground she knew by heartCorncliff Mesa, Crowheart Butte, Westfall's Crossing, Upper

Canyon; open land and woodland, pines and sagebrush, all silent and grave and lustrous in the sunshine.

Once and again a ranchman greeted her, and wondered if she had forgotten who he was; once she passed

some cowpunchers with a small herd of steers, and they stared after her too. Bear Creek narrowed, its

mountainsides drew near, its little falls began to rush white in midday shadow, and the horse suddenly

pricked his ears. Unguided, he was taking this advantage to go home. Though he had made but little waya

mere beginning yeton this trail over to Sunk Creek, here was already a Sunk Creek friend whinnying good

day to him, so he whinnied back and quickened his pace, and Molly started to life. What was Monte doing

here? She saw the black horse she knew also, saddled, with reins dragging on the trail as the rider had

dropped them to dismount. A cold spring bubbled out beyond the next rock, and she knew her lover's horse

was waiting for him while he drank. She pulled at the reins, but loosed them, for to turn and escape now was

ridiculous; and riding boldly round the rock, she came upon him by the spring. One of his arms hung up to its

elbow in the pool, the other was crooked beside his head, but the face was sunk downward against the

shelving rock, so that she saw only his black, tangled hair. As her horse snorted and tossed his head she

looked swiftly at Monte, as if to question him. Seeing now the sweat matted on his coat, and noting the white

rim of his eye, she sprang and ran to the motionless figure. A patch of blood at his shoulder behind stained

the soft flannel shirt, spreading down beneath his belt, and the man's whole strong body lay slack and pitifully

She touched the hand beside his head, but it seemed neither warm nor cold to her; she felt for the pulse, as

nearly as she could remember the doctors did, but could not tell whether she imagined or not that it was still;

twice with painful care her fingers sought and waited for the beat, and her face seemed like one of listening.

She leaned down and lifted his other arm and hand from the water, and as their icecoldness reached her

senses, clearly she saw the patch near the shoulder she had moved grow wet with new blood, and at that sight

she grasped at the stones upon which she herself now sank. She held tight by two rocks, sitting straight beside

him, staring, and murmuring aloud, "I must not faint; I will not faint;" and the standing horses looked at her,

In this cuplike spread of the ravine the sun shone warmly down, the tall red cliff was warm, the pines were a

warm film and filter of green; outside the shade across Bear Creek rose the steep, soft, open yellow hill,

warm and high to the blue, and Bear Creek tumbled upon its sunsparkling stones. The two horses on the

margin trail still looked at the spring and trees, where sat the neat flaxen girl so rigid by the slack prone body

in its flannel shirt and leathern chaps. Suddenly her face livened. "But the blood ran!" she exclaimed, as if to

the horses, her companions in this. She moved to him, and put her hand in through his shirt against his heart.

Next moment she had sprung up and was at his saddle, searching, then swiftly went on to her own and got her

small flask and was back beside him. Here was the cold water he had sought, and she put it against his

forehead and drenched the wounded shoulder with it. Three times she tried to move him, so he might lie more

easy, but his dead weight was too much, and desisting, she sat close and raised his head to let it rest against

her. Thus she saw the blood that was running from in front of the shoulder also; but she said no more about

fainting. She tore strips from her dress and soaked them, keeping them cold and wet upon both openings of

his wound, and she drew her pocketknife out and cut his shirt away from the place. As she continually

rinsed and cleaned it, she watched his eyelashes, long and soft and thick, but they did not stir. Again she tried

the flask, but failed from being still too gentle, and her searching eyes fell upon ashes near the pool. Still

undispersed by the weather lay the small charred ends of a fire he and she had made once here together, to

boil coffee and fry trout. She built another fire now, and when the flames were going well, filled her

flaskcup from the spring and set it to heat. Meanwhile, she returned to nurse his head and wound. Her cold

water had stopped the bleeding. Then she poured her brandy in the steaming cup, and, made rough by her

Instantly, almost, she felt the tremble of life creeping back, and as his deep eyes opened upon her she sat still

and mute. But the gaze seemed luminous with an unnoting calm, and she wondered if perhaps he could not

recognize her; she watched this internal clearness of his vision, scarcely daring to breathe, until presently he

began to speak, with the same profound and clear impersonality sounding in his slowly uttered words.

"I thought they had found me. I expected they were going to kill me." He stopped, and she gave him more of

the hot drink, which he took, still lying and looking at her as if the present did not reach his senses. "I knew

hands were touching me. I reckon I was not dead. I knew about them soon as they began, only I could not

interfere." He waited again. "It is mighty strange where I have been. No. Mighty natural." Then he went back

into his revery, and lay with his eyes still full open upon her where she sat motionless.

She began to feel a greater awe in this living presence than when it had been his body with an icecold hand;

At this, some nearer thing wakened in his look. "But it was you all along," he resumed. "It is you now. You

must not stay" Weakness overcame him, and his eyes closed. She sat ministering to him, and when he

roused again, he began anxiously at once: "You must not stay. They would get you, too."

She glanced at him with a sort of fierceness, then reached for his pistol, in which was nothing but blackened

empty cartridges. She threw these out and drew six from his belt, loaded the weapon, and snapped shut its

"Please take it," he said, more anxious and more himself. "I ain't worth tryin' to keep. Look at me!"

"Are you giving up?" she inquired, trying to put scorn in her tone. Then she seated herself.

When she saw that, she smiled too, and unexpectedly took his hand. "Listen, friend," said she. "Nobody shall

"It must be noon," said the cowpuncher, when she had drawn her hand away from him. "I remember it was

dark whenwhenwhen I can remember. I reckon they were scared to follow me in so close to settlers.

She broke the soft ends of some evergreen, and putting them beneath his head, went to the horses, loosened

the cinches, took off the bridles, led them to drink, and picketed them to feed. Further still, to leave nothing

undone which she could herself manage, she took the horses' saddles off to refold the blankets when the time

should come, and meanwhile brought them for him. But he put them away from him. He was sitting up

against a rock, stronger evidently, and asking for cold water. His head was firehot, and the paleness beneath

"Yes," he repeated. "Only five miles. But it's fightin' to turn around." Half aware that he was becoming

lightheaded, he looked from the rock to her and from her to the rock with dilating eyes.

"We can hold it together," she said. "You must get on your horse." She took his handkerchief from round his

neck, knotting it with her own, and to make more bandage she ran to the roll of clothes behind his saddle and

tore in halves a clean shirt. A handkerchief fell from it, which she seized also, and opening, saw her own

initials by the hem. Then she remembered: she saw again their first meeting, the swollen river, the overset

stage, the unknown horseman who carried her to the bank on his saddle and went away unthankedher

whole first adventure on that first day of her coming to this new countryand now she knew how her

longforgotten handkerchief had gone that day. She refolded it gently and put it back in his bundle, for there

was enough bandage without it. She said not a word to him, and he placed a wrong meaning upon the look

"It don't hurt so much," he assured her (though extreme pain was clearing his head for the moment, and he

had been able to hold the cliff from turning). "Yu' must not squander your pity."

"Oh, I could put up a pretty good fight now!" But he tottered in showing her how strong he was, and she told

"Yes," he slowly said, looking after her as she went to bring his horse, "the same child that wanted to touch

the moon, I guess." And during the slow climb down into the saddle from a rock to which she helped him he

She saw his teeth clinched and his drooping muscles compelled by will; and as he rode and she walked to

lend him support, leading her horse by a backwardstretched left hand, she counted off the distance to him

continuallythe increasing gain, the lessening road, the landmarks nearing and dropping behind; here was

the tree with the waspnest gone; now the burned cabin was passed; now the cottonwoods at the ford were in

sight. He was silent, and held to the saddlehorn, leaning more and more against his two hands clasped over it;

and just after they had made the crossing he fell, without a sod slipping to the grass, and his descent broken

by her. But it started the blood a little, and she dared not leave him to seek help. She gave him the last of the

"It's only a mile," said she. So she found a log, a fallen trunk, and he crawled to that, and from there crawled

to his saddle, and she marched on with him, talking, bidding him note the steps accomplished. For the next

halfmile they went thus, the silent man clinched on the horse, and by his side the girl walking and cheering

him forward, when suddenly he began to speak: "I will say goodby to you now, ma'am."

"He is getting away," pursued the Virginian. "I must ask you to excuse me, ma'am."

It was a long while since her lord had addressed her as "ma'am." As she looked at him in growing

apprehension, he turned Monte and would have ridden away, but she caught the bridle.

"You must take me home," said she, with ready inspiration. "I am afraid of the Indians."

"No," said she, holding firmly his rein and quickening her step. "A gentleman does not invite a lady to go out

His eyes lost their purpose. "I'll cert'nly take you home. That sorrel has gone in there by the wallow, and

Judge Henry will understand." With his eyes watching imaginary objects, he rode and rambled and it was

now the girl who was silent, except to keep his mind from its halffixed idea of the sorrel. As he grew more

fluent she hastened still more, listening to head off that notion of return, skilfully inventing questions to

engage him, so that when she brought him to her gate she held him in a manner subjected, answering

faithfully the shrewd unrealities which she devised, whatever makeshifts she could summon to her mind; and

next she had got him inside her dwelling and set him down docile, but now completely wandering; and

thenno help was at hand, even here. She had made sure of aid from next door, and there she hastened, to

find the Taylor's cabin locked and silent; and this meant that parents and children were gone to drive; nor

might she be luckier at her next nearest neighbors', should she travel the intervening mile to fetch them. With

a mind jostled once more into uncertainty, she returned to her room, and saw a change in him already. Illness

had stridden upon him; his face was not as she had left it, and the whole body, the splendid supple horseman,

showed sickness in every line and limb, its spurs and pistol and bold leather chaps a mockery of trappings.

She looked at him, and decision came back to her, clear and steady. She supported him over to her bed and

laid him on it. His head sank flat, and his loose, nerveless arms stayed as she left them. Then among her

packingboxes and beneath the little miniature, blue and flaxen and gold upon its lonely wall, she undressed

him. He was cold, and she covered him to the face, and arranged the pillow, and got from its box her scarlet

and black Navajo blanket and spread it over him. There was no more that she could do, and she sat down by

him to wait. Among the many and many things that came into her mind was a word he said to her lightly a

long while ago. "Cowpunchers do not live long enough to get old," he had told her. And now she looked at

the head upon the pillow, grave and strong, but still the head of splendid, unworn youth.

At the distant jingle of the wagon in the lane she was out, and had met her returning neighbors midway. They

heard her with amazement, and came in haste to the bedside; then Taylor departed to spread news of the

Indians and bring the doctor, twentyfive miles away. The two women friends stood alone again, as they had

"Kiss me, deary," said Mrs. Taylor. "Now I will look after himand you'll need some looking after

But on returning from her cabin with what store she possessed of lint and stimulants, she encountered a rebel,

independent as ever. Molly would hear no talk about saving her strength, would not be in any room but this

one until the doctor should arrive; then perhaps it would be time to think about resting. So together the dame

and the girl rinsed the man's wound and wrapped him in clean things, and did all the little that they

knewwhich was, in truth, the very thing needed. Then they sat watching him toss and mutter. It was no

longer upon Indians or the sorrel horse that his talk seemed to run, or anything recent, apparently, always

excepting his work. This flowingly merged with whatever scene he was inventing or living again, and he

wandered unendingly in that incompatible world we dream in. Through the medley of events and names,

often thickly spoken, but rising at times to grotesque coherence, the listeners now and then could piece out

the reference from their own knowledge. "Monte," for example, continually addressed, and Molly heard her

own name, but invariably as "Miss Wood"; nothing less respectful came out, and frequently he answered

some one as "ma'am." At these fragments of revelation Mrs. Taylor abstained from speech, but eyed Molly

Wood with caustic reproach. As the night wore on, short lulls of silence intervened, and the watchers were

deceived into hope that the fever was abating. And when the Virginian sat quietly up in bed, essayed to move

his bandage, and looked steadily at Mrs. Taylor, she rose quickly and went to him with a question as to how

The good dame gasped, then bade him lie down, and he obeyed her with that strange double understanding of

the delirious; for even while submitting, he muttered "liar," "polecat," and then "Trampas."

At that name light flashed on Mrs. Taylor, and she turned to Molly; and there was the girl struggling with a

fit of mirth at his speech; but the laughter was fast becoming a painful seizure. Mrs. Taylor walked Molly up

"You might as well know it," she said. "He would blame me for speaking of it, but where's the harm all this

while after? And you would never hear it from his mouth. Molly, child, they say Trampas would kill him if

"No, deary. But before a lot of menTaylor has told me about itTrampas spoke disrespectfully of you,

and before them all he made Trampas say he was a liar. That is what he did when you were almost a stranger

among us, and he had not started seeing so much of you. I expect Trampas is the only enemy he ever had in

"Steve!" the sick man now cried out, in poignant appeal. "Steve!" To the women it was a name

unknown,unknown as was also this deep inward tide of feeling which he could no longer conceal, being

himself no longer. "No, Steve," he said next, and muttering followed. "It ain't so!" he shouted; and then

"You had better go to bed, child. You look about ready for the doctor yourself."

So the two nurses continued to sit until darkness at the windows weakened into gray, and the lamp was no

more needed. Their patient was rambling again. Yet, into whatever scenes he went, there in some guise did

the throb of his pain evidently follow him, and he lay hitching his great shoulder as if to rid it of the

cumbrance. They waited for the doctor, not daring much more than to turn pillows and give what other ease

they could; and then, instead of the doctor, came a messenger, about noon, to say he was gone on a visit some

thirty miles beyond, where Taylor had followed to bring him here as soon as might be. At this Molly

consented to rest and to watch, turn about; and once she was over in her friend's house lying down, they tried

to keep her there. But the revolutionist could not be put down, and when, as a last pretext, Mrs. Taylor urged

the proprieties and conventions, the pale girl from Vermont laughed sweetly n her face and returned to sit by

the sick man. With the approach of the second night his fever seemed to rise and master him more completely

than they had yet seen it, and presently it so raged that the women called in stronger arms to hold him down.

There were times when he broke out in the language of the roundup, and Mrs. Taylor renewed her protests.

"Why," said Molly "don't you suppose I knew they could swear?" So the dame, in deepening astonishment

and affection, gave up these shifts at decorum. Nor did the delirium run into the intimate, coarse matters that

she dreaded. The cowpuncher had lived like his kind, but his natural daily thoughts were clean, and came

from the untamed but unstained mind of a man. And toward morning, as Mrs. Taylor sat taking her turn,

suddenly he asked had he been sick long, and looked at her with a quieted eye. The wandering seemed to

drop from him at a stroke, leaving him altogether himself. He lay very feeble, and inquired once or twice of

his state and how he came here; nor was anything left in his memory of even coming to the spring where he

When the doctor arrived, he pronounced that it would be longor very short. He praised their clean water

treatment; the wound was fortunately well up on the shoulder, and gave so far no bad signs; there were not

any bad signs; and the blood and strength of the patient had been as few men's were; each hour was now an

hour nearer certainty, and meanwhilemeanwhile the doctor would remain as long as he could. He had

many inquiries to satisfy. Dusty fellows would ride up, listen to him, and reply, as they rode away, "Don't yu'

let him die, Doc." And Judge Henry sent over from Sunk Creek to answer for any attendance or medicine that

might help his foreman. The country was moved with concern and interest; and in Molly's ears its words of

good feeling seemed to unite and sum up a burden, "Don t yu' let him die, Doc." The Indians who had done

this were now in military custody. They had come unpermitted from a southern reservation, hunting, next

thieving, and as the slumbering spirit roused in one or two of the young and ambitious, they had ventured this

in the secret mountains, and perhaps had killed a trapper found there. Editors immediately reared a tall war

out of it; but from five Indians in a guardhouse waiting punishment not even an editor can supply spar for

more than two editions, and if the recent alarm was still a matter of talk anywhere, it was not here in the

sickroom Whichever way the case should turn, it was through Molly alone (the doctor told her) that the

And he told her she had not done a woman's part, but a man's part, and now had no more to do; no more till

the patient got well, and could thank her in his own way, said the doctor, smiling, and supposing things that

"I'm afraid I'll be gone by the time he is well," said Molly, coldly; and the discreet physician said ah, and that

But Mrs. Taylor spoke otherwise, and at that the girl said: "I shall stay as long as I am needed. I will nurse

him. I want to nurse him. I will do everything for him that I can!" she exclaimed, with force.

"And that won't be anything, deary," said Mrs. Taylor, harshly. "A year of nursing don't equal a day of

The girl took a walk,she was of no more service in the room at present,but she turned without going far,

and Mrs. Taylor spied her come to lean over the pasture fence and watch the two horsesthat one the

Virginian had "gentled" for her, and his own Monte. During this suspense came a new call for the doctor,

neighbors profiting by his visit to Bear Creek; and in his going away to them, even under promise of quick

return, Mrs. Taylor suspected a favorable sign. He kept his word as punctually as had been possible, arriving

after some six hours with a confident face, and spending now upon the patient a care not needed, save to

reassure the bystanders. He spoke his opinion that all was even better than he could have hoped it would be,

so soon. Here was now the beginning of the fifth day; the wound's look was wholesome, no further delirium

had come, and the fever had abated a degree while he was absent. He believed the serious dangerline lay

behind, and (short of the unforeseen) the man's deep untainted strength would reassert its control. He had

much blood to make, and must be cared for during weeksthree, four, fivethere was no saying how long

yet. These next few days it must be utter quiet for him; he must not talk nor hear anything likely to disturb

him; and then the time for cheerfulness and gradual company would comesooner than later, the doctor

hoped. So he departed, and sent next day some bottles, with further cautions regarding the wound and dirt,

Upon that occasion he found two patients. Molly Wood lay in bed at Mrs. Taylor's, filled with apology and

indignation. With little to do, and deprived of the strong stimulant of anxiety and action, her strength had

quite suddenly left her, so that she had spoken only in a sort of whisper. But upon waking from a long sleep,

after Mrs. Taylor had taken her firmly, almost severely, in hand, her natural voice had returned, and now the

chief treatment the doctor gave her was a sort of scolding, which it pleased Firs. Taylor to hear. The doctor

even dropped a phrase concerning the arrogance of strong nerves in slender bodies, and of undertaking

several people's work when several people were at hand to do it for themselves, and this pleased Mrs. Taylor

remarkably. As for the wounded man, he was behaving himself properly. Perhaps in another week he could

be moved to a more cheerful room. Just now, with cleanliness and pure air, any barn would do.

"We are real lucky to have such a sensible doctor in the country," Mrs. Taylor observed, after the physician

Nevertheless, one may believe, without going widely astray, that illness, so far from veiling, more often

quickens the perceptionsat any rate those of the naturally keen. On a later dayand the interval was

briefwhile Molly was on her second drive to take the air with Mrs. Taylor, that lady informed her that the

sick man had noticed. "And I could not tell him things liable to disturb him," said she, "and so Iwell, I

expect I just didn't exactly tell him the facts. I said yes, you were packing up for a little visit to your folks.

They had not seen you for quite a while, I said. And he looked at those boxes kind of silent like."

"There's no need to move him," said Molly. '"It is simpler to move themthe boxes. I could take out some of

my things, you know, just while he has to be kept there. I meanyou see, if the doctor says the room should

"I will ask the doctor next time," said Molly. "if he believes I amcompetent to spread a rug upon a floor."

Molly's references to the doctor were usually acid these days. And this he totally failed to observe, telling her

when he came, why, to be sure! the very thing! And if she could play cards or read aloud, or afford any other

light distractions, provided they did not lead the patient to talk and tire himself, that she would be most

useful. Accordingly she took over the cribbage board, and came with unexpected hesitation face to face again

with the swarthy man she had saved and tended. He was not so swarthy now, but neat, with chin clean, and

hair and mustache trimmed and smooth, and he sat propped among pillows watching for her.

"No. Only this"he looked at her, and saw her seem to shrink"thank you for what you have done," he

She took tenderly the hand he stretched to her; and upon these terms they set to work at cribbage. She won,

and won again, and the third time laid down her cards and reproached him with playing in order to lose.

"No," he said, and his eye wandered to the boxes. "But my thoughts get away from me. I'll be strong enough

Many tones in his voice she had heard, but never the tone of sadness until today.

"When I have made this room look a little less forlorn. They haven't wanted to meddle with my things, I

suppose." And Molly stooped once again among the chattels destined for Vermont. Out they came; again the

bearskin was spread on the floor, various possessions and ornaments went back into their ancient niches, the

shelves grew comfortable with books, and, last, some flowers were stood on the table.

"May I ask one thing?" pleaded the Virginian, and at the gentleness of his voice her face grew rosy, and she

"Oh, yes. Did I tell yu' to quit me, and did yu' load up my gun and stay? Was that a real business? I have been

"Just nothingfor such as you!" he exclaimed. "My haid has been mighty crazy; and that little grandmother

of yours yondeh, shebut I can't just quite catch ahold of these things"he passed a hand over his

forehead"so manyor else one right alongwell, it's all foolishness!" he concluded, with something

almost savage in his tone. And after she had gone from the cabin he lay very still, looking at the miniature on

He was in another sort of mood the next time, cribbage not interesting him in the least. "Your folks will be

"I don't think they will mind which month I go to them," said Molly. "Especially when they know the

"Don't let me keep you, ma'am," said he. Molly stared at him; but he pursued, with the same edge lurking in

his slow words: "Though I'll never forget. How could I forget any of all you have doneand been? If there

had been none of this, why, I had enough to remember! But please don't stay, ma'am. We'll say I had a claim

when yu' found me pretty well dead, but I'm gettin' well, yu' seeright smart, too!"

He seemed to have certain moods when he would address her as "ma'am," and this she did not like, but could

"Please say no more about that, or I shall go this afternoon. I don't want to go. I am not ready. I think I had

"Why, yes. That's cert'nly a good notion. Why, this is the best show you'll ever get to give me education.

Won't yu' please try that EMMA book now, ma'am? Listening to you will be different." This was said with

Uncertainas his gravity often left herprecisely what he meant by what he said, Molly proceeded with

EMMA, slackly at first, but soon with the enthusiasm that Miss Austen invariably gave her. She held the

volume and read away at it, commenting briefly, and then, finishing a chapter of the sprightly classic, found

"You couldn't be doing a healthier thing for him, deary," said Mrs. Taylor. "If it gets to make him wakeful,

When Molly next appeared at the Virginian's threshold, he said plaintively, "I reckon I am a dunce." And he

sued for pardon. "When I waked up," he said, "I was ashamed of myself for a plumb halfhour." Nor could

she doubt this day that he meant what he said. His mood was again serene and gentle, and without referring to

his singular words that had distressed her, he made her feel his contrition, even in his silence.

"I am right glad you have come," he said. And as he saw her going to the bookshelf, he continued, with

diffidence: "As regyards that EMMA book, yu' seeyu' see, the doin's and sayin's of folks like them are

above me. But I think" (he spoke most diffidently), "if yu' could read me something that was ABOUT

"Why, yes. Shakespeare. HENRY THE FOURTH. The British king is fighting, and there is his son the

prince. He cert'nly must have been a jimdandy boy if that is all true. Only he would go around town with a

mighty triflin' gang. They sported and they held up citizens. And his father hated his travelling with trash like

them. It was right naturalthe boy and the old man! But the boy showed himself a man too. He killed a big

fighter on the other side who was another jimdandyand he was sorry for having it to do." The Virginian

warmed to his recital. "I understand most all of that. There was a fat man kept everybody laughing. He was

awful natural too; except yu' don't commonly meet 'em so fat. But the princethat play is bedrock, ma'am!

She took her Browning, her idol, her imagined affinity. For the pale decadence of New England had

somewhat watered her good old Revolutionary blood too, and she was inclined to think under glass and to

live underdonewhen there were no Indians to shoot! She would have joyed to venture "Paracelsus" on him,

and some lengthy rhymed discourses; and she fondly turned leaves and leaves of her pet doggerel analytics.

"Pippa Passes" and others she had to skip, from discreet motivespages which he would have doubtless

stayed awake at; but she chose a poem at length. This was better than Emma, he pronounced. And short. The

horse was a good horse. He thought a man whose horse must not play out on him would watch the ground he

was galloping over for holes, and not be likely to see what color the rims of his animal's eyesockets were.

You could not see them if you sat as you ought to for such a hard ride. Of the next piece that she read him he

"The soldier should not have told the general he was killed," stated the cowpuncher.

"Why, just nothing. If the soldier could ride out of the battle all shot up, and tell his general about their takin'

the townthat was being gritty, yu' see. But that truck at the finishwill yu' please say it again?"

"'You're wounded! 'Nay,' the soldier's pride Touched to the quick, he said, 'I'm killed, sire!' And, his chief

"'Nay, I'm killed, sire,'" drawled the Virginian, amiably; for (symptom of convalescence) his freakish irony

was revived in him. "Now a man who was man enough to act like he did, yu' see, would fall dead without

None of Molly's sweet girl friends had ever thus challenged Mr. Browning. They had been wont to cluster

over him with a joyous awe that deepened proportionally with their misunderstanding. Molly paused to

consider this novelty of view about the soldier. "He was a Frenchman, you know," she said, under inspiration.

"A Frenchman," murmured the grave cowpuncher. "I never knowed a Frenchman, but I reckon they might

Molly now burst into a luxury of discussion. She leaned toward her cowpuncher with bright eyes searching

his; with elbow on knee and hand propping chin, her lap became a slant, and from it Browning the poet slid

and toppled, and lay unrescued. For the slow cowpuncher unfolded his notions of masculine courage and

modesty (though he did not deal in such highsounding names), and Molly forgot everything to listen to him,

as he forgot himself and his inveterate shyness and grew talkative to her. "I would never have supposed that!"

she would exclaim as she heard him; or, presently again, "I never had such an idea!" And her mind opened

with delight to these new things which came from the man's mind so simple and direct. To Browning they did

come back, but the Virginian, though interested, conceived a dislike for him. "He is a smarty," said he, once

"Very short. Now please attend." And she read him twelve lines about a lover who rowed to a beach in the

"That is the best yet," said the Virginian. "There's only one thing yu' can think about that."

"Round the cape of a sudden came the sea, And the sun looked over the mountain's rim And straight was a

"That is very, very true," murmured the Virginian, dropping his eyes from the girl's intent ones.

"Dead sure, ma'am. He would come back afteh he had played some more of the game."

"Life, ma'am. Whatever he was adoin' in the world of men. That's a bedrock piece, ma'am!"

"I could sca'cely explain," answered the man. "But that writer does know something."

"I am glad they hadn't quarrelled," said Molly, thoughtfully. And she began to like having her opinions

His bandages, becoming a little irksome, had to be shifted, and this turned their discourse from literature to

Wyoming; and Molly inquired, had he ever been shot before? Only once, he told her. "I have been lucky in

"You never" broke in Molly. She had started back a little. "Well," she added hastily don't tell me if"

"I shouldn't wonder if I got one of those Indians," he said quietly. "But I wasn't waitin' to see! But I came

"Injurin.' I will not tell yu' about that. It would hurt yu' to hear such things. But hawssesdon't they depend

on us? Ain't they somethin' like children? I did not lay up the man very bad. He was able to travel 'most right

So the Virginian talked, nor knew what he was doing to the girl. Nor was she aware of what she was

receiving from him as he unwittingly spoke himself out to her in these Browning meetings they heal each

day. But Mrs. Taylor grew pleased. The kindly dame would sometimes cross the road to see if she were

needed, and steal away again after a peep at the window. There, inside, among the restored home treasures,

sat the two: the rosy alert girl, sweet as she talked or read to him; and he, the grave, halfweak giant among

Of her delayed home visit he never again spoke, either to her or to Mrs. Taylor; and Molly veered aside from

any trend of talk she foresaw was leading toward that subject. But in those hours when no visitors came, and

he was by himself in the quiet, he would lie often sombrely contemplating the girl's room, her little dainty

knickknacks, her home photographs, all the delicate manifestations of what she came from and what she was.

Strength was flowing back into him each day, and Judge Henry's latest messenger had brought him clothes

and mail from Sunk Creek and many inquiries of kindness, and returned taking the news of the

cowpuncher's improvement, and how soon he would be permitted the fresh air. Hence Molly found him

waiting in a flannel shirt of highly becoming shade, and with a silk handkerchief knotted round his throat;

She had come to read to him for the allotted time; and she threw around his shoulders the scarlet and black

Navajo blanket, striped with its splendid zigzags of barbarity. Thus he half sat, half leaned, languid but at

ease. In his lap lay one of the letters brought over by the messenger: and though she was midway in a book

that engaged his full attentionDAVID COPPERFELDhis silence and absent look this morning stopped

"It had to come," said he. "And today I see my thoughts straighter than I've been up to managing

sincesince my hard got clear. And now I must say these thoughtsif I can, if I can!" He stopped. His eyes

"I promised you should love me," he sternly interrupted. "Promised that to myself. I have broken that word."

"The letter you wrote to tell me goodby. You wrote it a little while agonot a month yet, but it's away and

"The doctor," he interrupted once more, but very gently now, "he gave awdehs I must be kept quiet. I reckon

"Forgive me!" cried the girl. "Indeed I ought to have told you sooner! Indeed I had no excuse!"

"Why, should yu' tell me if yu' preferred not? You had written. And you speak" (he lifted the letter) "of never

being able to repay kindness; but you have turned the tables. I can never repay you by anything! by anything!

So I had figured I would just jog back to Sunk Creek and let you get away, if you did not want to say that

kind of goodby. For I saw the boxes. Mrs. Taylor is too nice a woman to know the trick of lyin', and she

could not deceive me. I have knowed yu' were going away for good ever since I saw those boxes. But now

hyeh comes your letter, and it seems no way but I must speak. I have thought a deal, lyin' in this room.

AndtodayI can say what I have thought. I could not make you happy." He stopped, but she did not

answer. His voice had grown softer than whispering, but yet was not a whisper. From its quiet syllables she

"Once, I thought love must surely be enough," he continued. "And I thought if I could make you love me, you

could learn me to be lesslessmore your kind. And I think I could give you a pretty good sort of love. But

that don't help the little mean pesky things of day by day that make roughness or smoothness for folks tied

together so awful close. Mrs. Taylor hyehshe don't know anything better than Taylor does. She don't want

anything he can't give her. Her friends will do for him and his for her. And when I dreamed of you in my

home" he closed his eyes and drew a long breath. At last he looked at her again. "This is no country for a

"Oh!" cried Molly. "Oh!" And she put her hands to her eyes. She had risen and stood with her face covered.

"I surely had to tell you this all out, didn't I?" said the cowpuncher, faintly, in his chair."Oh!" said Molly

"I have put it clear how it is," he pursued. "I ought to have seen from the start I was not the sort to keep you

"But," said Molly"but Iyou oughtplease try to keep me happy!" And sinking by his chair, she hid her

Speechless, lie bent down and folded her round, putting his hands on the hair that had been always his

She answered nothing. The Navajo's scarlet and black folds fell over both. Not with words, not even with

meeting eyes, did the two plight their troth in this first new hour. So they remained long, the fair head nesting

in the great arms, and the black head laid against it, while over the silent room presided the little

Grandmother Stark in her frame, rosy, blue, and flaxen, not quite familiar, not quite smiling.

For a long while after she had left him, he lay still, stretched in his chair. His eyes were fixed steadily upon

the open window and the sunshine outside. There he watched the movement of the leaves upon the green

cottonwoods. What had she said to him when she went? She had said, "Now I know how unhappy I have

been." These sweet words he repeated to himself over and over, fearing in some way that he might lose them.

They almost slipped from him at times; but with a jump of his mind he caught them again and held

them,and then "I'm not all strong yet," he murmured. "I must have been very sick." And, weak from his

bullet wound and fever, he closed his eyes without knowing it. There were the cottonwoods again, waving,

waving; and he felt the cool, pleasant air from the window. He saw the light draught stir the ashes in the great

stone fireplace. "I have been asleep," he said. "But she was cert'nly here herself. Oh, yes. Surely. She always

has to go away every day because the doctor sayswhy, she was readin'!" he broke off, aloud. "DAVID

COPPERFIELD." There it was on the floor. "Aha! nailed you anyway!" he said. "But how scared I am of

myself!You're a fool. Of course it's so. No fever business could make yu' feel like this."

His eye dwelt awhile on the fireplace, next on the deer horns, and next it travelled toward the shelf where her

"Better say off the names before I look," said he. "I've had a heap o' misreading visions. Andand

supposin'if this was just my sickness fooling me some moreI'd want to die. I would die! Now we'll see.

If COPPERFIELD is on the floor" (he looked stealthily to be sure that it was)," then she was readin' to me

when everything happened, and then there should be a hole in the book row, top, left. Top, left," he repeated,

He now noticed the miniature of Grandmother Stark. "You are awful like her," he whispered. "You're cert'nly

Then, tottering, he rose from his sickchair. The Navajo blanket fell from his shoulders, and gradually,

Helping himself with his hand slowly along the wall of the room, and round to the opposite wall with many a

pause, he reached the picture, and very gently touched the forehead of the ancestral dame with his lips. "I

He almost fell in stooping to the portrait, but caught himself and stood carefully quiet, trembling, and

speaking to himself. "Where is your strength?" he demanded. "I reckon it is joy that has unsteadied your

"My Heavens!" she said; and setting the tray down, she rushed to him. She helped him back to his chair, and

covered him again. He had suffered no hurt, but she clung to him; and presently he moved and let himself

"You are speakin' low like me," he answered. "But we have no dream we can wake from."

Had she surrendered on this day to her cowpuncher, her wild man? Was she forever wholly his? Had the

Virginian's fire so melted her heart that no rift in it remained? So she would have thought if any thought had

They kept their secret for a while, or at least they had that special joy of believing that no one in all the world

but themselves knew this that had happened to them. But I think that there was one person who knew how to

keep a secret even better than these two lovers. Mrs. Taylor made no remarks to any one whatever. Nobody

on Bear Creek, however, was so extraordinarily cheerful and serene. That peculiar severity which she had

manifested in the days when Molly was packing her possessions, had now altogether changed. In these days

she was endlessly kind and indulgent to her "deary." Although, as a housekeeper, Mrs. Taylor believed in

punctuality at meals, and visited her offspring with discipline when they were late without good and

"And it's not because you're not her mother," said George Taylor, bitterly. "She used to get it, too. And we're

the only ones that get it. There she comes, just as we're about ready to quit! Aren't you going to say

"George," said his mother, "when you've saved a man's life it'll be time for you to talk."

So Molly would come in to her meals with muchirregularity; and her remarks about the imperfections of her

clock met with no rejoinder. And yet one can scarcely be so severe as had been Mrs. Taylor, and become

wholly as mild as milk. There was one recurrent event that could invariably awaken hostile symptoms in the

dame. Whenever she saw a letter arrive with the Bennington postmark upon it, she shook her fist at that

letter."What's family pride?" she would say to herself. "Taylor could be a Son of the Revolution if he'd a

And when letters directed to Bennington would go out, Mrs. Taylor would inspect every one as if its

envelope ought to grow transparent beneath her eyes, and yield up to her its great secret, if it had one. But in

truth these letters had no great secret to yield up, until one dayyes; one day Mrs. Taylor would have burst,

were bursting a thing that people often did. Three letters were the cause of this emotion on Mrs. Taylor's part;

one addressed to Bennington, one to Dunbarton, and the thirdhere was the great excitementto

Bennington, but not in the little schoolmarm's delicate writing. A man's hand had traced those plain, steady

"It's come!" exclaimed Mrs. Taylor, at this sight. "He has written to her mother himself."

The sick man's convalescence was achieved. The weeks had brought back to him, not his whole strength

yetthat could come only by many miles of open air on the back of Monte; but he was strong enough now

He had gone for a little walk with his nurse. They had taken (under the doctor's recommendation) several

such little walks, beginning with a fiveminute one, and at last today accomplishing three miles.

"No, it has not been too far," said he. "I am afraid I could walk twice as far."

"Yes. Because it means I can go to work again. This thing we have had together is over."

"Look at you!" he said. "Only a little while ago you had to help me stand on my laigs. And now" For a

while there was silence between them. "I have never had a right down sickness before," he presently went on.

"Not to remember, that is. If any person had told me I could ENJOY such a thing" He said no more, for

"Well, if it could be foreverno. Not forever with no more than this. I reckon I'd be sick again! But if it

could be forever with just you and me, and no one else to bother with. But any longer would not be doing

"Your mother ain't 'anybody.' She is your mother. I feel mighty responsible to her for what I have done."

"Do you think so? Your mother will not think so. I am going to write to her today."

"You! Write to my mother! Oh, then everything will be so different! They will all" Molly stopped before

the rising visions of Bennington. Upon the fairytale that she had been living with her cowboy lover broke

the voices of the world. She could hear them from afar. She could see the eyes of Bennington watching this

man at her side. She could imagine the ears of Bennington listening for slips in his English. There loomed

upon her the round of visits which they would have to make. The ringing of the doorbells, the waiting in

drawingrooms for the mistress to descend and utter her prepared congratulations, while her secret eye

devoured the Virginian's appearance, and his manner of standing and sitting. He would be wearing gloves,

instead of fringed gauntlets of buckskin. In a smooth black coat and waistcoat, how could they perceive the

man he was? During those short formal interviews, what would they ever find out of the things that she knew

about him? The things for which she was proud of him? He would speak shortly and simply; they would say,

"Oh, yes!" and "How different you must findthis from Wyoming!"and then, after the door was shut behind

his departing back they would sayHe would be totally underrated, not in the least understood. Why should

Now in all these halfformed, hurried, distressing thoughts which streamed through the girl's mind, she

altogether forgot one truth. True it was that the voice of the world would speak as she imagined. True it was

that in the eyes of her family and acquaintance this lover of her choice would be examined even more like a

SPECIMEN than are other lovers upon these occasions: and all accepted lovers have to face this ordeal of

being treated like specimens by the other family. But dear me! most of us manage to stand it, don t we? It

isn't, perhaps, the most delicious experience that we can recall in connection with our engagement. But it

didn't prove fatal. We got through it somehow. We dined with Aunt Jane, and wined with Uncle Joseph, and

perhaps had two fingers given to us by old Cousin Horatio, whose enormous fortune was of the greatest

importance to everybody. And perhaps fragments of the other family's estimate of us subsequently reached

our own ears. But if a chosen lover cannot stand being treated as a specimen by the other family, he's a very

Now the Virginian was scarcely what even his enemy would term a weak vessel; and Molly's jealousy of the

impression which he might make upon Bennington was vastly superfluous. She should have known that he

would indeed care to make a good impression; but that such anxiety on his part would be wholly for her sake,

that in the eyes of her friends she might stand justified in taking him for her wedded husband. So far as he

was concerned apart from her, Aunt Jane and Uncle Joseph might say anything they pleased, or think

anything they pleased. His character was open for investigation. Judge Henry would vouch for him.

This is what he would have said to his sweetheart had she but revealed to him her perturbations. But she did

not reveal them; and they were not of the order that he with his nature was likely to divine. I do not know

what good would have come from her speaking out to him, unless that perfect understanding between lovers

which indeed is a good thing. But I do not believe that he could have reassured her; and I am certain that she

That sigh of hers, be it well understood, was not only because of those faroff voices which the world would

in consequence of her news be lifting presently. It came also from bidding farewell to the fairytale which

she must leave now; that land in which she and he had been living close together alone, unhindered,

What would he say to her mother? How would her mother like such a letter as he would write to her?

Suppose he should misspell a word? Would not sentences from him at this timewritten sentencesbe a

He shook his head. "She is not going to like it, anyway," he answered. "I must speak to her direct. It would be

Molly saw how true his instinct was here; and a little flame shot upward from the glow of her love and pride

in him. Oh, if they could all only know that he was like this when you understood him! She did not dare say

out to him what her fear was about this letter of his to her mother. She did not dare becausewell, because

she lacked a little faith. That is it, I am afraid. And for that sin she was her own punishment. For in this day,

and in many days to come, the pure joy of her love was vexed and clouded, all through a little lack of faith;

"No." Then a freakish look came into his eyes. "I'll let yu' see anything I write to other women." And he gave

her one of his long kisses. "Let's get through with it together," he suggested, when they were once more in his

sickroom, that room which she had given to him. "You'll sit one side o' the table, and I'll sit the other, and

And so, accordingly, they took their places. The inkstand stood between them. Beside each of them she

distributed paper enough, almost, for a presidential message. And pens and pencils were in plenty. Was this

"Why, aren't you going to do it in pencil first?" she exclaimed, looking up from her vacant sheet. His pen was

"No, I don't reckon I need to," he answered, with his nose close to the paper. "Oh, damnation, there's a blot!"

He tore his spoiled beginning in small bits, and threw them into the fireplace. "You've got it too full," he

commented; and taking the inkstand, he tipped a little from it out of the window. She sat lost among her false

starts. Had she heard him swear, she would not have minded. She rather liked it when he swore. He possessed

that quality in his profanity of not offending by it. It is quite wonderful how much worse the same word will

sound in one man's lips than in another's. But she did not hear him. Her mind was among a litter of broken

sentences. Each thought which she began ran out into the empty air, or came against some stone wall. So

there she sat, her eyes now upon that inexorable blank sheet that lay before her, waiting, and now turned with

vacant hopelessness upon the sundry objects in the room. And while she thus sat accomplishing nothing,

opposite to her the black head bent down, and the steady pen moved from phrase to phrase.

She became aware of his gazing at her, flushed and solemn. That strange color of the seawater, which she

could never name, was lustrous in his eyes. He was folding his letter." You have finished?" she said.

"Perhaps I can do something tonight at Mrs. Taylor's," she said, looking at her paper.

On it were a few words crossed out. This was all she had to show. At this set task in letterwriting, the

But that night, while he lay quite fast asleep in his bed, she was keeping vigil in her room at Mrs. Taylor's.

Accordingly, the next day, those three letters departed for the mail, and Mrs. Taylor consequently made her

On the day before the Virginian returned to take up his work at Judge Henry's ranch, he and Molly announced

their news. What Molly said to Mrs. Taylor and what Mrs. Taylor said to her, is of no interest to us, though it

But Mr. McLean happened to make a call quite early in the morning to inquire for his friend's health.

"Lin," began the Virginian, "there is no harm in your knowing an hour or so before the rest, I am"

"Lord!" said Mr. McLean, indulgently. Everybody has knowed that since the day she found yu' at the spring."

"Hmp!" said the Virginian. "I didn't know this country was that rank with gossips."

Mr. McLean laughed mirthfully at the lover. "Well," he said, "Mrs. McLean will be glad. She told me to give

yu' her congratulations quite a while ago. I was to have 'em ready just as soon as ever yu' asked for 'em

yourself." Lin had been made a happy man some twelve months previous to this. And now, by way of an

exchange of news, he added: "We're expectin' a little McLean down on Box Elder. That's what you'll be

"And I don't guess," said Lin, "that you and I will do much shufflin' of other folks' children any more."

Whereupon he and the Virginian shook hands silently, and understood each other very well.

On the day that the Virginian parted with Molly, beside the weight of farewell which lay heavy on his heart,

his thoughts were also grave with news. The cattle thieves had grown more audacious. Horses and cattle both

And what was doing at Bennington, meanwhile, and at Dunbarton? Those three letters which by their mere

outside had so moved Mrs. Taylor, produced by their contents much painful disturbance.

It will be remembered that Molly wrote to her mother, and to her greataunt. That announcement to her

mother was undertaken first. Its composition occupied three hours and a half, and it filled eleven pages, not

counting a postscript upon the twelfth. The letter to the greataunt took only ten minutes. I cannot pretend to

explain why this one was so greatly superior to the other; but such is the remarkable fact. Its beginning, to be

sure, did give the old lady a start; she had dismissed the cowboy from her probabilities.

"Tut, tut, tut!" she exclaimed out loud in her bedroom. "She has thrown herself away on that fellow!"

But some sentences at the end made her pause and sit still for a long while. The severity upon her face

changed to tenderness, gradually. "Ah, me," she sighed. "If marriage were as simple as love!" Then she went

slowly downstairs, and out into her garden, where she walked long between the box borders. "But if she has

found a great love," said the old lady at length. And she returned to her bedroom, and opened an old desk,

There came to her the next morning a communication from Bennington. This had been penned frantically by

poor Mrs. Wood. As soon as she had been able to gather her senses after the shock of her daughter's eleven

pages and the postscript, the mother had poured out eight pages herself to the eldest member of the family.

There had been, indeed, much excuse for the poor lady. To begin with, Molly had constructed her whole

opening page with the express and merciful intention of preparing her mother. Consequently, it made no

sense whatever. Its effect was the usual effect of remarks designed to break a thing gently. It merely made

Mrs. Wood's head swim, and filled her with a sickening dread. "Oh, mercy, Sarah," she had cried, "come

here. What does this mean?" And then, fortified by her elder daughter, she had turned over that first page and

found what it meant on the top of the second. "A savage with knives and pistols!" she wailed. "Well, mother,

I always told you so," said her daughter Sarah. "What is a foreman?" exclaimed the mother. "And who is

Judge Henry?" "She has taken a sort of upper servant," said Sarah. "If it is allowed to go as far as a wedding,

I doubt if I can bring myself to be present." (This threat she proceeded to make to Molly, with results that

shall be set forth in their proper place.) "The man appears to have written to me himself," said Mrs. Wood.

"He knows no better," said Sarah. "Bosh!" said Sarah's husband later. "It was a very manly thing to do." Thus

did consternation rage in the house at Bennington. Molly might have spared herself the many assurances that

she gave concerning the universal esteem in which her cowpuncher was held, and the fair prospects which

were his. So, in the first throes of her despair, Mrs. Wood wrote those eight not maturely considered pages to

"Tut, tut, tut!" said the greataunt as she read them. Her face was much more severe today. "You'd suppose,"

she said, "that the girl had been kidnapped! Why, she has kept him waiting three years!" And then she read

more, but soon put the letter down with laughter. For Mrs. Wood had repeated in writing that early outburst

of hers about a savage with knives and pistols. "Law!" said the greataunt. "Law, what a fool Lizzie is!"

So she sat down and wrote to Mrs. Wood a wholesome reply about putting a little more trust in her own flesh

and blood, and reminding her among other things that General Stark had himself been wont to carry knives

and pistols owing to the necessities of his career, but that he had occasionally taken them off, as did probably

this young man in Wyoming. "You had better send me the letter he has written you," she concluded. "I shall

It is not probable that Mrs. Wood got much comfort from this communication; and her daughter Sarah was

actually enraged by it. "She grows more perverse as she nears her dotage," said Sarah. But the Virginian's

letter was sent to Dunbarton, where the old lady sat herself down to read it with much attention.

Madam: If your daughter Miss Wood has ever told you about her saving a man's life here when some Indians

had shot him that is the man who writes to you now. I don't think she can have told you right about that affair

for she is the only one in this country who thinks it was a little thing. So I must tell you it, the main points.

Such an action would have been thought highly of in a Western girl, but with Miss Wood's raising nobody

"Indeed!" snorted the greataunt. "Well, he would be right, if I had not had a good deal more to do with her

I was starting in to die when she found me. I did not know anything then, and she pulled me back from where

I was half in the next world. She did not know but what Indians would get her too but I could not make her

leave me. I am a heavy man one hundred and seventythree stripped when in full health. She lifted me

herself from the ground me helping scarce any for there was not much help in me that day. She washed my

wound and brought me to with her own whiskey. Before she could get me home I was out of my head but she

kept me on my horse somehow and talked wisely to me so I minded her and did not go clean crazy till she

had got me safe to bed. The doctor says I would have died all the same if she had not nursed me the way she

did. It made me love her more which I did not know I could. But there is no end, for this writing it down

And now Mrs. Wood I am sorry this will be bad news for you to hear. I know you would never choose such a

man as I am for her for I have got no education and must write humble against my birth. I wish I could make

I am of old stock in Virginia English and one Scotch Irish grandmother my father's father brought from

Kentucky. We have always stayed at the same place farmers and hunters not bettering our lot and very plain.

We have fought when we got the chance, under Old Hickory and in Mexico and my father and two brothers

were killed in the Valley sixtyfour. Always with us one son has been apt to run away and I was the one this

time. I had too much older brothering to suit me. But now I am doing well being in full sight of prosperity

and not too old and very strong my health having stood the sundries it has been put through. She shall teach

school no more when she is mine. I wish I could make this news easier for you Mrs. Wood. I do not like

promises I have heard so many. I will tell any man of your family anything he likes to ask one, and Judge

Henry would tell you about my reputation. I have seen plenty rough things but can say I have never killed for

pleasure or profit and am not one of that kind, always preferring peace. I have had to live in places where

they had courts and lawyers so called but an honest man was all the law you could find in five hundred miles.

I have not told her about those things not because I am ashamed of them but there are so many things too

I had better tell you the way I know I love Miss Wood. I am not a boy now, and women are no new thing to

me. A man like me who has travelled meets many of them as he goes and passes on but I stopped when I

came to Miss Wood. That is three years but I have not gone on. What right has such as he? you will say. So

did I say it after she had saved my life. It was hard to get to that point and keep there with her around me all

day. But I said to myself you have bothered her for three years with your love and if you let your love bother

her you don't love her like you should and you must quit for her sake who has saved your life. I did not know

what I was going to do with my life after that but I supposed I could go somewhere and work hard and so

Mrs. Wood I told her I would give her up. But she said no. It is going to be hard for her to get used to a man

But at this point in the Virginian's letter, the old greataunt could read no more. She rose, and went over to

that desk where lay those faded letters of her own. She laid her head down upon the package, and as her tears

flowed quietly upon it, "O dear," she whispered, "O dear! And this is what I lost!"

To her girl upon Bear Creek she wrote the next day. And this word from Dunbarton was like balm among the

harsh stings Molly was receiving. The voices of the world reached her in gathering numbers, and not one of

them save that greataunt's was sweet. Her days were full of hurts; and there was no one by to kiss the hurts

away. Nor did she even hear from her lover any more now. She only knew he had gone into lonely regions

That errand took him far: Across the Basin, among the secret places of Owl Creek, past the Washakie

Needles, over the Divide to Gros Ventre, and so through a final barrier of peaks into the borders of East

Idaho. There, by reason of his bidding me, I met him, and came to share in a part of his errand.

It was with no guide that I travelled to him. He had named a little station on the railroad, and from thence he

had charted my route by means of landmarks. Did I believe in omens, the black storm that I set out in upon

my horse would seem like one today. But I had been living in cities and smoke; and Idaho, even with rain,

When the first landmark, the lone clump of cottonwoods, came at length in sight, dark and blurred in the

gentle rain, standing cut perhaps a mile beyond the distant buildings, my whole weary body hailed the

approach of repose. Saving the noon hour, I had been in the saddle since six, and now six was come round

again. The ranch, my restingplace for this night, was a ruincabin, stable, and corral. Yet after the twelve

hours of pushing on and on through silence, still to have silence, still to eat and go to sleep in it, perfectly

fitted the mood of both my flesh and spirit. At noon, when for a while I had thrown off my long oilskin coat,

merely the sight of the newspaper half crowded into my pocket had been a displeasing reminder of the

railway, and cities, and affairs. But for its possible help to build fires, it would have come no farther with me.

The great levels around me lay cooled and freed of dust by the wet weather, and full of sweet airs. Far in

front the foothills rose through the rain, indefinite and mystic. I wanted no speech with any one, nor to be

near human beings at all. I was steeped in a revery as of the primal earth; even thoughts themselves had

almost ceased motion. To lie down with wild animals, with elk and deer, would have made my waking dream

complete; and since such dream could not be, the cattle around the deserted buildings, mere dots as yet across

Tomorrow night I should probably be camping with the Virginian in the foothills. At his letter's bidding I

had come eastward across Idaho, abandoning my hunting in the Saw Tooth Range to make this journey with

him back through the Tetons. It was a trail known to him, and not to many other honest men. Horse Thief

Pass was the name his letter gave it. Business (he was always brief) would call him over there at this time.

Returning, he must attend to certain matters in the Wind River country. There I could leave by stage for the

railroad, or go on with him the whole way back to Sunk Creek. He designated for our meeting the forks of a

certain little stream in the foothills which today's ride had brought in sight. There would be no chance for

him to receive an answer from me in the intervening time. If by a certain daywhich was four days off

stillI had not reached the forks, he would understand I had other plans. To me it was like living back in

ages gone, this way of meeting my friend, this choice of a stream so far and lonely that its very course upon

the maps was wrongly traced. And to leave behind all noise and mechanisms, and set out at ease, slowly, with

one packhorse, into the wilderness, made me feel that the ancient earth was indeed my mother and that I had

found her again after being lost among houses, customs, and restraints. I should arrive three days early at the

forksthree days of margin seeming to me a wise precaution against delays unforeseen. If the Virginian

were not there, good; I could fish and be happy. If he were there but not ready to start, good; I could still fish

and be happy. And remembering my Eastern helplessness in the year when we had met first, I enjoyed

thinking how I had come to be trusted. In those days I had not been allowed to go from the ranch for so much

as an afternoon's ride unless tied to him by a string, so to speak; now I was crossing unmapped spaces with no

My vision, as I rode, took in serenely the dim foothills,tomorrow's goal,and nearer in the vast wet

plain the clump of cottonwoods, and still nearer my lodging for tonight with the dotted cattle round it. And

now my horse neighed. I felt his gait freshen for the journey's end, and leaning to pat his neck I noticed his

ears no longer slack and inattentive, but pointing forward to where food and rest awaited both of us. Twice he

neighed, impatiently and long; and as he quickened his gait still more, the packhorse did the same, and I

realized that there was about me still a spice of the tenderfoot: those dots were not cattle; they were horses.

My horse had put me in the wrong. He had known his kind from afar, and was hastening to them. The

plainsman's eye was not yet mine; and I smiled a little as I rode. When was I going to know, as by instinct,

the different look of horses and cattle across some two or three miles of plain?

These miles we finished soon. The buildings changed in their aspect as they grew to my approach, showing

their desolation more clearly, and in some way bringing apprehension into my mood. And around them the

horses, too, all standing with ears erect, watching me as I camethere was something about them; or was it

the silence? For the silence which I had liked until now seemed suddenly to be made too great by the

presence of the deserted buildings. And then the door of the stable opened, and men came out and stood, also

watching me arrive. By the time I was dismounting more were there. It was senseless to feel as unpleasant as

I did, and I strove to give to them a greeting that should sound easy. I told them that I hoped there was room

for one more here tonight. Some of them had answered my greeting, but none of them answered this; and as

I began to be sure that I recognized several of their strangely imperturbable faces, the Virginian came from

"Yes, I do see." I looked hard at him, for in his voice was the same strangeness that I felt in everything

around me. But he was looking at his companions. "This gentleman is all right," he told them.

"That may be," said one whom I now knew that I had seen before at Sunk Creek; "but he was not due

The Virginian fell into his drawl. "None of you was ever early for anything, I presume."

Whatever jokes they meant by this he did not receive as jokes. I saw something like a wince pass over his

face, and a flush follow it. But he now spoke to me. "We expected to be through before this," he began. "I'm

"We want him to explain himself," put in one of the others. "If he satisfies us, he's free to go away."

"Free to go away!" I now exclaimed. But at the indulgence in their frontier smile I cooled down.

"Gentlemen," I said, "I don't know why my movements interest you so much. It's quite a compliment! May I

No request could have been more natural, for the rain had now begun to fall in straight floods. Yet there was

The Virginian chose to say nothing more; but he walked beside me into the stable. Two men sat there

together, and a third guarded them. At that sight I knew suddenly what I had stumbled upon; and on the

But I did not need them. And in the recoil of my insight the clump of cottonwoods came into my mind, black

and grim. No other trees high enough grew within ten miles. This, then, was the business that the Virginian's

letter had so curtly mentioned. My eyes went into all corners of the stable, but no other prisoners were here I

half expected to see Trampas, and I half feared to see Shorty; for poor stupid Shorty's honesty had not been

proof against frontier temptations, and he had fallen away from the company of his old friends. Often of late I

had heard talk at Sunk Creek of breaking up a certain gang of horse and cattle thieves that stole in one

Territory and sold in the next, and knew where to hide in the mountains between. And now it had come to the

point; forces had been gathered, a long expedition made, and here they were, successful under the Virginian's

lead, but a little later than their calculations. And here was I, a little too early, and a witness in consequence.

My presence seemed a simple thing to account for; but when I had thus accounted for it, one of them said

with good nature: "So you find us here, and we find you here. Which is the most surprised, I wonder?"

"There's no telling," said I, keeping as amiable as I could; "nor any telling which objects the most."

"Oh, there's no objection here. You're welcome to stay. But not welcome to go, I expect. He ain't welcome to

By the answers that their faces gave him it was plain that I was not. "Not till we are through," said one.

"He needn't to see anything,"' another added. "Better sleep late tomorrow morning," a third suggested to me.

I did not wish to stay here. I could have made some sort of camp apart from them before dark; but in the face

of their needless caution I was helpless. I made no attempt to inquire what kind of spy they imagined I could

be, what sort of rescue I could bring in this lonely country; my too early appearance seemed to be all that they

looked at. And again my eyes sought the prisoners. Certainly there were only two. One was chewing tobacco,

and talking now and then to his guard as if nothing were the matter. The other sat dull in silence, not moving

his eyes; but his face worked, and I noticed how he continually moistened his dry lips. As I looked at these

doomed prisoners, whose fate I was invited to sleep through tomorrow morning, the one who was chewing

It was Steve! Steve of Medicine Bow! The pleasant Steve of my first evening in the West. Some change of

beard had delayed my instant recognition of his face. Here he sat sentenced to die. A shock, chill and painful,

He had no such weak feelings. "Have yu' been to Medicine Bow lately?" he inquired. "That's getting to be

I assented. I should have liked to say something natural and kind, but words stuck against my will, and I

stood awkward and ill at ease, noticing idly that the silent one wore a gray flannel shirt like mine. Steve

looked me over, and saw in my pocket the newspaper which I had brought from the railroad and on which I

had pencilled a few expenses. He asked me, Would I mind letting him have it for a while? And I gave it to

him eagerly, begging him to keep it as long as he wanted. I was overeager in my embarrassment. "You need

not return it at all," I said; "those notes are nothing. Do keep it." He gave me a short glance and a smile.

"Thank you," he said; "I'll not need it beyond tomorrow morning." And he began to search through it.

"Jake's election is considered sure," he said to his companion, who made no response. "Well, Fremont County

Dead men I have seen not a few times, even some lying pale and terrible after violent ends, and the edge of

this wears off; but I hope I shall never again have to be in the company with men waiting to be killed. By this

time tomorrow the gray flannel shirt would be buttoned round a corpse. Until what moment would Steve

chew? Against such fancies as these I managed presently to barricade my mind, but I made a plea to be

allowed to pass the night elsewhere, and I suggested the adjacent cabin. By their faces I saw that my words

merely helped their distrust of me. The cabin leaked too much, they said; I would sleep drier here. One man

gave it to me more directly: "If you figured on camping in this stable, what has changed your mind?" How

could I tell them that I shrunk from any contact with what they were doing, although I knew that only so

could justice be dealt in this country? Their wholesome front tier nerves knew nothing of such refinements

But the Virginian understood part of it. "I am right sorry for your annoyance," he said. And now I noticed he

After the twelve hours' ride my bones were hungry for rest. I spread my blankets on some straw in a stall by

myself and rolled up in them; yet I lay growing broader awake, every inch of weariness stricken from my

excited senses. For a while they sat over their councils, whispering cautiously, so that I was made curious to

hear them by not being able; was it the names of Trampas and Shorty that were once or twice spoken ~ I

could not be sure. I heard the whisperers cease and separate. I heard their boots as they cast them off upon the

ground. And I heard the breathing of slumber begin and grow in the interior silence. To one after one sleep

came, but not to me. Outside, the dull fall of the rain beat evenly, and in some angle dripped the spouting

pulses of a leak. Sometimes a cold air blew in, bearing with it the keen wet odor of the sagebrush. On

hundreds of other nights this perfume had been my last waking remembrance; it had seemed to help

drowsiness; and now I lay staring, thinking of this. Twice through the hours the thieves shifted their positions

with clumsy sounds, exchanging muted words with their guard. So, often, had I heard other companions

move and mutter in the darkness and lie down again. It was the very naturalness and usualness of every fact

of the night,the stable straw, the rain outside, my familiar blankets, the cool visits of the wind,and with

all this the thought of Steve chewing and the man in the gray flannel shirt, that made the hours unearthly and

strung me tight with suspense. And at last I heard some one get up and begin to dress. In a little while I saw

light suddenly through my closed eyelids, and then darkness shut again abruptly upon them. They had swung

in a lantern and found me by mistake. I was the only one they did not wish to rouse. Moving and quiet talking

set up around me, and they began to go out of the stable. At the gleams of new daylight which they let in my

thoughts went to the clump of cottonwoods, and I lay still with hands and feet growing steadily cold. Now it

was going to happen. I wondered how they would do it; one instance had been described to me by a witness,

but that was done from a bridge, and there had been but a single victim. This morning, would one have to

The smell of smoke reached me, and next the rattle of tin dishes. Breakfast was something I had forgotten,

and one of them was cooking it now in the dry shelter of the stable. He was alone, because the talking and the

steps were outside the stable, and I could hear the sounds of horses being driven into the corral and saddled.

Then I perceived that the coffee was ready, and almost immediately the cook called them. One came in,

shutting the door behind him as he reentered, which the rest as they followed imitated; for at each opening of

the door I saw the light of day leap into the stable and heard the louder sounds of the rain. Then the sound and

the light would again be shut out, until some one at length spoke out bluntly, bidding the door be left open on

account of the smoke. What were they hiding from? he asked. The runaways that had escaped? A laugh

followed this sally, and the door was left open. Thus I learned that there had been more thieves than the two

that were captured. It gave a little more ground for their suspicion about me and my anxiety to pass the night

elsewhere. It cost nothing to detain me, and they were taking no chances, however remote.

The fresh air and the light now filled the stable, and I lay listening while their breakfast brought more talk

from them. They were more at ease now than was I, who had nothing to do but carry out my role of slumber

in the stall; they spoke in a friendly, ordinary way, as if this were like every other morning of the week to

them. They addressed the prisoners with a sort of fraternal kindness, not bringing them pointedly into the

conversation, nor yet pointedly leaving them out. I made out that they must all be sitting round the breakfast

together, those who had to die and those who had to kill them. The Virginian I never heard speak. But I heard

the voice of Steve; he discussed with his captors the sundry points of his capture.

"Do you remember a haystack?" he asked. "Away up the south fork of Gros Ventre?"

"Yes. It rained. We had you fooled that time. I was laying on the ledge above to report your movements."

"I figured you thought so by the trail you after the stack. Saturday we watched you turn your back on us up

Spread Creek. We were snug among the trees the other side of Snake River. That was another time we had

They laughed again at their own expense. I have heard men pick to pieces a hand of whist with more

Steve continued: "Would we head for Idaho? Would we swing back over the Divide? You didn't know

which! And when we generalled you on to that band of horses you thought was the band you were

huntingah, we were a strong combination!" He broke off with the first touch of bitterness I had felt in his

"Nothing is any stronger than its weakest point." It was the Virginian who said this, and it was the first word

"Naturally," said Steve. His tone in addressing the Virginian was so different, so curt, that I sup posed he took

the weakest point to mean himself. But the others now showed me that I was wrong in this explanation.

"That's so," one said. "Its weakest point is where a rope or a gang of men is going to break when the strain

There was a pause. "Yes," said the prisoner, moodily. "I'm sitting here because one of us blundered." He

cursed the blunderer. "Lighting his fool fire queered the whole deal," he added. As he again heavily cursed

"I said that when we spied the smoke," said another. "I said, 'That's none of Steve's work, lighting fires and

"Pretty hard to have the fool get away and you get caught," a third suggested. At this they seemed to wait. I

Again they waited; and a new voice spoke huskily: "I built that fire, boys." It was the prisoner in the gray

"Meaning Ed was pretty slow in backing up your play? The joke is really on you, Steve. You'd ought never to

have cursed the firebuilder if you wanted us to believe he was present. But we'd not have done much to

Shorty, even if we had caught him. All he wants is to be scared good and hard, and he'll go back into

Steve's voice sounded hard now. "You have caught Ed and me. That should satisfy you for one gather."

"Well, we think different, Steve. Trampas escaping leaves this thing unfinished."

"Yes, Steve, Trampas escapedthis time; and Shorty with himthis time. We know it most as well as if

we'd seen them go. And we're glad Shorty is loose, for he'll build another fire or do some other foolishness

Their talk drifted to other points, and I lay thinking of the skirmish that had played beneath the surface of

their banter. Yes, the joke, as they put it, was on Steve. He had lost one point in the game to them. They were

playing for names. He, being a chivalrous thief, was playing to hide names. They could only, among several

likely confederates, guess Trampas and Shorty. So it had been a slip for him to curse the man who built the

fire. At least, they so held it. For, they with subtlety reasoned, one curses the absent. And I agreed with them

that Ed did not know how to lie well; he should have at once claimed the disgrace of having spoiled the

expedition. If Shorty was the blunderer, then certainly Trampas was the other man; for the two were as

inseparable as don and master. Trampas had enticed Shorty away from good, and trained him in evil. It now

struck me that after his single remark the Virginian had been silent throughout their shrewd discussion.

It was the other prisoner that I heard them next address. "You don't eat any breakfast, Ed."

But Ed, it seemed, wanted no breakfast. And the tin dishes rattled as they were gathered and taken to be

These words almost made it seem like my own execution. My whole body turned cold in company with the

prisoner's, and as if with a clank the situation tightened throughout my senses.

"I reckon if every one's ready we'll start." It was the Virginian's voice once more, and different from the rest.

I heard them rise at his bidding, and I put the blanket over my head. I felt their tread as they walked out,

passing my stall. The straw that was half under me and half out in the stable was stirred as by something

heavy dragged or half lifted along over it. "Look out, you're hurting Ed's arm," one said to another, as the

steps with tangled sounds passed slowly out. I heard another among those who followed say, "Poor Ed

couldn't swallow his coffee." Outside they began getting on their horses; and next their hoofs grew distant,

until all was silence round the stable except the dull, even falling of the rain.

I do not know how long I stayed there alone. It was the Virginian who came back, and as he stood at the foot

of my blankets his eye, after meeting mine full for a moment, turned aside. I had never seen him look as he

did now, not even in Pitchstone Canyon when we came upon the bodies of Hank and his wife. Until this

moment we had found no chance of speaking together, except in the presence of others.

"The fire's out," said he; and he assembled some new sticks over the ashes. Presently he looked round with a

My boots being pulled on, I walked to the door and watched the clouds. "They seem as if they might lift," I

"Steve wound his all regular. I had to nightguard him till two." His speech was like that of one in a trance:

Again I looked at the weather and the rainy immensity of the plain. The foothills eastward where we were

going were a soft yellow. Over the graygreen sagebrush moved shapeless places of lightnot yet the

uncovered sunlight, but spots where the storm was wearing thin; and wandering streams of warmth passed by

slowly in the surrounding air. As I watched the clouds and the earth, my eyes chanced to fall on the distant

clump of cottonwoods. Vapors from the enfeebled storm floated round them, and they were indeed far away;

"You will not change your mind?" said the Virginian by the fire. "It is thirtyfive miles."

He swallowed a hot cupful, and after it sat thinking; and presently he passed his hand across his brow,

shutting his eyes. Again he poured out a cup, and emptying this, rose abruptly to his feet as if shaking himself

Our horses were in the corral and our belongings in the shelter of what had been once the cabin at this forlorn

place. He collected them in silence while I saddled my own animal, and in silence we packed the two

packhorses, and threw the diamond hitch, and hauled tight the slack, damp ropes. Soon we had mounted, and

"This will go well," said I, holding my flask out to him; and both of us took some, and felt easier for it and

For an hour we had been shirking real talk, holding fast to the weather, or anything, and all the while that

silent thing we were keeping off spoke plainly in the air around us and in every syllable that we uttered. But

now we were going to get away from it; leave it behind in the stable, and set ourselves free from it by talking

"No. I never had it to do." He was riding beside me, looking down at his saddlehorn.

"Why, so should Iif I could do it at all." I still thought he was justifying their justice to me.

He made no answer as he rode along, looking all the while at his saddle. But again he passed his hand over

"I should like to be sure I should behave myself if I were condemned," I said next. For it now came to

mewhich should I resemble? Could I read the newspaper, and be interested in county elections, and discuss

coming death as if I had lost a game of cards? Or would they have to drag me out? That poor wretch in the

gray flannel shirt"It was bad in the stable," I said aloud. For an aftershiver of it went through me.

"Steve!" I was astounded. "Why hewhy all I saw of him was splendid. Since it had to be. It was"

"Oh, yes; Ed. You're thinking about him. I'd forgot him. So you didn't enjoy Ed?"

Again he cut me short with a laugh almost savage. "You needn't to worry about Steve. He stayed game."

What then had been the matter that he should keep seeing Stevethat his vision should so obliterate from

him what I still shivered at, and so shake him now? For he seemed to be growing more stirred as I grew less. I

asked him no further questions, however, and we went on for several minutes, he brooding always in the

same fashion, until he resumed with the hard indifference that had before surprised me: "So Ed gave you

He took no notice of this. "And you'd have been more comfortable if he'd acted same as Steve did. It cert'nly

was bad seeing Ed take it that way, I reckon. And you didn't see him when the time came for business. Well,

here's what it is: a man maybe such a confirrned miscreant that killing's the only cure for him; but still he's

your own species, and you don't want to have him fall around and grab your laigs and show you his fear

naked. It makes you feel ashamed. So Ed gave you feelings, and Steve made everything right easy for you!"

There was irony in his voice as he surveyed me, but it fell away at once into sadness. "Both was miscreants.

But if Steve had played the coward, too, it would have been a whole heap easier for me." He paused before

His voice had trembled, and I felt the deep emotion that seemed to gain upon him now that action was over

and he had nothing to do but think. And his view was simple enough: you must die brave. Failure is a sort of

treason to the brotherhood, and forfeits pity. It was Steve's perfect bearing that had caught his heart so that he

But this was by no means all that was to come. He harked back to that notion of a prisoner helping to make it

easy for his executioner. "Easy plumb to the end," he pursued, his mind reviewing the acts of the morning.

"Well, he took dying as naturally as he took living. Like a man should. Like I hope to." Again he looked at

the pictures in his mind. "No playacting nor last words. He just told goodby to the boys as we led his horse

under the limbyou needn't to look so dainty," he broke off. "You ain't going to get any more shocking

"I know I'm whitelivered," I said with a species of laugh. "I never crowd and stare when somebody is hurt in

He thought this over. "You don't mean all of that. You'd not have spoke just that way about crowding and

staring if you thought well of them that stare. Staring ain't courage; it's trashy curiosity. Now you did not

He had stretched out his hand to point, but it fell, and his utterance stopped, and he jerked his horse to a

stand. My nerves sprang like a wire at his suddenness, and I looked where he was looking. There were the

cottonwoods, close in front of us. As we had travelled and talked we had forgotten them. Now they were

When we had come back from our circuit into the trail he continued: "You did not have that thing to do. But a

"He was not a man, though we thought he was till this. Steve and I started punching cattle together at the

Bordeaux outfit, north of Cheyenne. We did everything together in those dayswork and play. Six years

We must have gone two miles before he spoke again. "You prob'ly didn't notice Steve? I mean the way he

acted to me?" It was a question, but he did not wait for my answer. "Steve never said a word to me all

through. He shunned it. And you saw how neighborly he talked to the other boys."

"Feel it!they've went to the railroad. Three of them are witnesses in a case at Evanston, and the Judge

wants our outfit at Medicine Bow. Steve shunned me. Did he think I was going back on him?"

"No. Did you notice Steve would not give us any information about Shorty? That was right. I would have

The sun was now shining warm during two or three minutes together, and gulfs of blue opened in the great

white clouds. These moved and met among each other, and parted, like hands spread out, slowly weaving a

spell of sleep over the day after the wakeful night storm. The huge contours of the earth lay basking and

drying, and not one living creature, bird or beast, was in sight. Quiet was returning to my revived spirits, but

there was none for the Virginian. And as he reasoned matters out aloud, his mood grew more overcast.

"You have a friend, and his ways are your ways. You travel together, you spree together confidentially, and

you suit each other down to the ground. Then one day you find him putting his iron on another man's calf.

You tell him fair and square those ways have never been your ways and ain't going to be your ways. Well,

that does not change him any, for it seems he's disturbed over getting rich quick and being a big man in the

Territory. And the years go on, until you are foreman of Judge Henry's ranch and heis dangling back in the

cottonwoods. What can he claim? Who made the choice? He cannot say, 'Here is my old friend that I would

"Listen," I said. "Suppose while you were on guard he had whispered, 'Get me off'would you have done

He could not answer mebut I had not answered him, I saw; so I pushed it farther. "Did you want

But he had now another confusion. "Steve stood by Shorty," he said musingly. "It was Shorty's mistake cost

"You are mixing things," I interrupted. "I never heard you mix things before. And it was not Shorty's

"That's correct. Well, Trampas took Shorty in, and Steve would not tell on him either."

I still tried it, saying, "They were all in the same boat." But logic was useless; he had lost his bearings in a fog

of sentiment. He knew, knew passionately, that he had done right; but the silence of his old friend to him

through those last hours left a sting that no reasoning could assuage. "He told goodby to the rest of the boys;

but not to me." And nothing that I could point out in common sense turned him from the thread of his own

argument. He worked round the circle again to selfjustification. "Was it him I was deserting? Was not the

deserting done by him the day I spoke my mind about stealing calves? I have kept my ways the same. He is

the one that took to new ones. The man I used to travel with is not the man back there. Same name, to be

sure. And same body. But different inand yet he had the memory! You can't never change your memory!"

He gave a sob. It was the first I had ever heard from him, and before I knew what I was doing I had reined my

horse up to his and put my arm around his shoulders. I had no sooner touched him than he was utterly

Thus we had actually come to change places; for early in the morning he had been firm while I was unnerved,

I had the sense to keep silent, and presently he shook my hand, not looking at me as he did so. He was always

very shy of demonstration. And he took to patting the neck of his pony. "You Monte hawss," said he, "you

think you are wise, but there's a lot of things you don't savvy." Then he made a new beginning of talk

"I know there's no real harm in him, and some real good, and that he has not got the brains necessary to be a

"That's so. That's very true. Trampas has led him in deeper than his stature can stand. Now back East you can

be middling and get along. But if you go to try a thing on in this Western country, you've got to do it WELL.

You've got to deal cyards WELL; you've got to steal WELL; and if you claim to be quick with your gun, you

must be quick, for you're a public temptation, and some man will not resist trying to prove he is the quicker.

You must break all the Commandments WELL in this Western country, and Shorty should have stayed in

Brooklyn, for he will be a novice his livelong days. You don't know about him? He has told me his

circumstances. He don't remember his father, and it was like he could have claimed three or four. And I

expect his mother was not much interested in him before or after he was born. He ran around, and when he

was eighteen he got to be help to a grocery man. But a girl he ran with kept taking all his pay and teasing him

for more, and so one day the grocery man caught Shorty robbing his till, and fired him. There wasn't no one

to tell goodby to, for the girl had to go to the country to see her aunt, she said. So Shorty hung around the

store and kissed the grocery cat goodby. He'd been used to feeding the cat, and she'd sit in his lap and purr,

he told me. He sends money back to that girl now. This hyeh country is no country for Shorty, for he will be a

The day was now all blue above, and all warm and dry beneath. We had begun to wind in and rise among the

first slopes of the foothills, and we had talked ourselves into silence. At the first running water we made a

long nooning, and I slept on the bare ground. My body was lodged so fast and deep in slumber that when the

Virginian shook me awake I could not come back to life at once; it was the clump of cottonwoods, small and

"It'll not be watching us much longer," said the Virginian. He made it a sort of joke; but I knew that both of

us were glad when presently we rode into a steeper country, and among its folds and carvings lost all sight of

the plain. He had not slept, I found. His explanation was that the packs needed better balancing, and after that

he had gone up and down the stream on the chance of trout. But his haunted eyes gave me the real

reasonthey spoke of Steve, no matter what he spoke of; it was to be no short thing with him.

We did not make thirtyfive miles that day, nor yet twentyfive, for he had let me sleep. We made an early

camp and tried some unsuccessful fishing, over which he was cheerful, promising trout tomorrow when we

should be higher among the mountains. He never again touched or came near the subject that was on his

mind, but while I sat writing my diary, he went off to his horse Monte, and I could hear that he occasionally

Next day we swung southward from what is known to many as the Conant trail, and headed for that short cut

through the Tetons which is known to but a few. Bitch Creek was the name of the stream we now followed,

and here there was such good fishing that we idled; and the horses and I at least enjoyed ourselves. For they

found fresh pastures and shade in the now plentiful woods; and the mountain odors and the mountain heights

were enough for me when the fish refused to rise. This road of ours now became the road which the pursuit

had taken before the capture. Going along, I noticed the footprints of many hoofs, rainblurred but recent,

"You can notice Monte's," said the Virginian. "He is the only one that has his hind feet shod. There's several

We mounted now over a long slant of rock, smooth and of wide extent Above us it went up easily into a little

side canyon, but ahead, where our way was, it grew so steep that we got off and led our horses. This brought

us to the next higher level of the mountain, a space of sagebrush more open, where the rainwashed tracks

"Some one has been here since the rain," I called to the Virginian, who was still on the rock, walking up

"Since the rain!" he exclaimed. "That's not two days yet." He came and examined the footprints. "A man and

a hawss," he said, frowning. "Going the same way we are. How did he come to pass us, and us not see him?"

"Not much; only how does he come to know any of them? And why don't he take the Conant trail that's open

and easy and not much longer? One man and a hawss. I don't see who he is or what he wants here."

"Only one outfit of prospectors has ever been here, and they claimed there was no mineralbearing rock in

We got back into our saddles with the mystery unsolved. To the Virginian it was a greater one, apparently,

than to me; why should one have to account for every stray traveller in the mountains?

"That's queer, too," said the Virginian. He was now riding in front of me, and he stopped, looking down at the

Now we, of course, had mounted at the beginning of the better trail after the steep rock, and that was quite

half a mile back. Still, I had a natural explanation. "He's leading a packhorse. He's a poor trapper, and walks."

"Packhorses ain't usually shod before and behind," said the Virginian; and sliding to the ground he touched

the footprints. "They are not four hours old," said he. "This bank's in shadow by one o'clock, and the sun has

We continued on our way; and although it seemed no very particular thing to me that a man should choose to

walk and lead his horse for a while,I often did so to limber my muscles,nevertheless I began to catch the

Virginian's uncertain feeling about this traveller whose steps had appeared on our path in midjourney, as if

he had alighted from the midair, and to remind myself that he had come over the great face of rock from

another trail and thus joined us, and that indigent trappers are to be found owning but a single horse and

leading him with their belongings through the deepest solitudes of the mountainsnone of this quite brought

back to me the comfort which had been mine since we left the cottonwoods out of sight down in the plain.

Hence I called out sharply, "What's the matter now?" when the Virginian suddenly stopped his horse again.

He looked down at the trail, and then he very slowly turned round in his saddle and stared back steadily at

But to this he made no answer, sitting quite still on his horse and contemplating the ground. The silence was

fastening on me like a spell, and I spurred my horse impatiently forward to see for myself. The footprints of

"Very quaint," I answered, groping for the explanation. There was no rock here to walk over and step from

into the softer trail. These second steps came more out of the air than the first. And my brain played me the

"There you are," said the Virginian, as the trail proved him right. "Number one has got on. My God, what's

At a crashing in the woods very close to us we both flung round and caught sight of a vanishing elk.

It left us confronted, smiling a little, and sounding each other with our eyes. "Well, we didn't need him for

For a while now as we rode we kept up a cheerful conversation about elk. We wondered if we should meet

many more close to the trail like this; but it was not long before o'er words died away. We had come into a

veritable gulf of mountain peaks, sharp at their bare summits like teeth, holding fields of snow loner down,

and glittering still in full day up there, while down among our pines and parks the afternoon was growing

sombre. All the while the fresh hoofprints of the horse and the fresh footprints of the man preceded us. In the

trees, and in the opens, across the levels, and up the steeps, they were there. And so they were not four hours

old! Were they so much? Might we not, round some turn, come upon the makers of them? I began to watch

for this. And again my brain played me an evil trick, against which I found myself actually reasoning thus: if

they took turns riding, then walking must tire them as it did me or any man. And besides, there was a horse.

With such thoughts I combated the fancy that those footprints were being made immediately in front of us all

the while, and that they were the only sign of any presence which our eyes could see. But my fancy overcame

my thoughts. It was shame only which held me from asking this question of the Virginian: Had one horse

served in both cases of Justice down at the cottonwoods? I wondered about this. One horseor had the

strangling nooses dragged two saddles empty at the same signal? Most likely; and therefore these people up

hereWas I going back to the nursery? I brought myself up short. And I told myself to be steady; there

lurked in this brainprocess which was going on beneath my reason a threat worse than the childish

apprehensions it created. I reminded myself that I was a man grown, twentyfive years old, and that I must

not merely seem like one, but feel like one. "You're not afraid of the dark, I suppose?" This I uttered aloud,

I started; but it was only the Virginian behind me. "Oh, nothing. The air is getting colder up here."

I had presently a great relief. We came to a place where again this trail mounted so abruptly that we once

more got off to lead our horses. So likewise had our predecessors done; and as I watched the two different

It was good to be facetious; and I smiled to myself as I trudged upward. We came off the steep place, leaving

the canyon beneath us, and took to horseback. And as we proceeded over the final gentle slant up to the rim

of the great basin that was set among the peaks, the Virginian was jocular once more.

I glanced over my shoulder at him, and he nodded as he fixed the weatherbeaten crimson handkerchief

round his neck. Then he threw a stone at a pack animal that was delaying on the trail. "Damn your buckskin

He was so natural, sitting loose in the saddle, and cursing in his gentle voice, that I laughed to think what

visions I had been harboring. The two dead men riding one horse through the mountains vanished, and I came

We gained the rim of the basin. It lay below us, a great cup of country,rocks, woods, opens, and streams.

The tall peaks rose like spires around it, magnificent and bare in the last of the sun; and we surveyed this

upper world, letting our animals get breath. Our bleak, crumbled rim ran like a rampart between the towering

tops, a half circle of five miles or six, very wide in some parts, and in some shrinking to a scanty foothold, as

here. Here our trail crossed over it between two eroded and fantastic shapes of stone, like mushrooms, or

misshapen heads on pikes. Banks of snow spread up here against the black rocks, but half an hour would see

us descended to the green and the woods. I looked down, both of us looked down, but our forerunners were

"They'll be camping somewhere in this basin, though," said the Virginian, staring at the dark pines. "They

A cold little wind blew down between our stone shapes, and upward again, eddying. And round a corner

upward with it came fluttering a leaf of newspaper, and caught against an edge close to me.

"What's the latest?" inquired the Virginian from his horse. For I had dismounted, and had picked up the leaf.

"Seems to be interesting," I next heard him say. "Can't you tell a man what's making your eyes bug out so?"

"Yes," my voice replied to him, and it sounded like some stranger speaking lightly near by; "oh, yes!

Decidedly interesting." My voice mimicked his pronunciation. "It's quite the latest, I imagine. You had better

read it yourself." And I handed it to him with a smile, watching his countenance, while my brain felt as if

I saw his eyes quietly run the headings over "Well?" he inquired, after scanning it on both sides. "I don't seem

to catch the excitement. Fremont County is going to hold elections. I see they claim Jake"

I do not think that a microscope could have discerned a change in his face. "Oh," he commented, holding the

paper, and fixing it with a critical eye. "You mean this is the one you lent Steve, and he wanted to give me to

give back to you. And so them are your own marks." For a moment more he held it judicially, as I have seen

men hold a contract upon whose terms they were finally passing. "Well, you have got it back now, anyway."

"Only a piece of it!" I exclaimed, always lightly. And as I took it from him his hand chanced to touch mine. It

"They ain't through readin' the rest," he explained easily. "Don't you throw it away! After they've taken such

Thus we made further merriment as we rode down into the great basin. Before us, the horse and boot tracks

We did not see their fire. We descended in the chill silence, while the mushroom rocks grew far and the

sombre woods approached. By a stream we got off where two banks sheltered us; for a bleak wind cut down

over the crags now and then, making the pines send out a great note through the basin, like breakers in a

heavy sea. But we made cosey in the tent. We pitched the tent this night, and I was glad to have it shut out the

mountain peaks. They showed above the banks where we camped; and in the starlight their black shapes rose

stark against the sky. They, with the pines and the wind, were a bedroom too unearthly this night. And as

soon as our supper dishes were washed we went inside to our lantern and our game of cribbage.

"This is snug," said the Virginian, as we played. "That wind don't get down here."

"Smoking is snug, too," said I. And we marked our points for an hour, with no words save about the cards.

"I'll be pretty near glad when we get out of these mountains," said the Virginian. "They're most too big."

The pines had altogether ceased; but their silence was as tremendous as their roar had been.

"I don't know, though," he resumed. "There's times when the plains can be awful big, too."

He sat readin, it apparently through, while I arranged my blankets to make a warm bed. Then, since the paper

continued to absorb him, I got myself ready, and slid between my blankets for the night. "You'll need another

He put the paper down. "I would do it all over again," he began. "The whole thing just the same. He knowed

the customs of the country, and he played the game. No call to blame me for the customs of the country. You

leave other folks' cattle alone, or you take the consequences, and it was all known to Steve from the start.

Would he have me take the Judge's wages and give him the wink? He must have changed a heap from the

Steve I knew if he expected that. I don't believe he expected that. He knew well enough the only thing that

would have let him off would have been a regular jury. For the thieves have got hold of the juries in Johnson

The expiring flame leaped in the lantern, and fell blue. He broke off in his words as if to arrange the light, but

did not, sitting silent instead, just visible, and seeming to watch the death struggle of the flame. I could find

nothing to say to him, and I believed he was now winning his way back to serenity by himself. He kept his

outward man so nearly natural that I forgot about that cold touch of his hand, and never guessed how far out

from reason the tide of emotion was even now whirling him. "I remember at Cheyenne onced," he resumed.

And he told me of a Thanksgiving visit to town that he had made with Steve. "We was just colts then," he

said. He dwelt on their coltish doings, their adventures sought and wrought in the perfect fellowship of youth.

"For Steve and me most always hunted in couples back in them gamesome years," he explained. And he fell

into the elemental talk of sex, such talk as would be an elk's or tiger's; and spoken so by him, simply and

naturally, as we speak of the seasons, or of death, or of any actuality, it was without offense. It would be

offense should I repeat it. Then, abruptly ending these memories of himself and Steve, he went out of the tent,

and I heard him dragging a log to the fire. When it had blazed up, there on the tent wall was his shadow and

that of the log where he sat with his halfbroken heart. And all the while I supposed he was master of

I must have fallen asleep before he returned, for I remember nothing except waking and finding him in his

blankets beside me. The fire shadow was gone, and gray, cold light was dimly on the tent. He slept restlessly,

and his forehead was ploughed by lines of pain. While I looked at him he began to mutter, and suddenly

started up with violence. "No!" he cried out; "no! Just the same!" and thus wakened himself, staring. "What's

the matter?" he demanded. He was slow in getting back to where we were; and full consciousness found him

sitting up with his eyes fixed on mine. They were more haunted than they had been at all, and his next speech

came straight from his dream. "Maybe you'd better quit me. This ain't your trouble."

His eyes still intently fixed on mine. "Do you think if we changed our trail we could lose them from us?"

I was framing a jocose reply about Ounces being a good walker, when the sound of hoofs rushing in the

distance stopped me, and he ran out of the tent with his rifle. When I followed with mine he was up the bank,

and all his powers alert. But nothing came out of the dimness save our three stampeded horses. They crashed

over fallen timber and across the open to where their picketed comrade grazed at the end of his rope. By him

they came to a stand, and told him, I suppose, what they had seen; for all four now faced in the same

direction, looking away into the mysterious dawn. We likewise stood peering, and my rifle barrel felt cold in

my hand. The dawn was all we saw, the inscrutable dawn, coming and coming through the black pines and

the gray open of the basin. There above lifted the peaks, no sun yet on them, and behind us our stream made a

His strange look fixed me again, and then his eyes went to the horses. "They smell things we can't smell,"

said he, very slowly. "Will you prove to me they don't see things we can't see?"

A chill shot through me, and I could not help a frightened glance where we had been watching. But one of the

horses began to graze and I had a wholesome thought. "He's tired of whatever he sees, then," said I, pointing.

A smile came for a moment in the Virginian's face. "Must be a poor show," he observed. All the horses were

We made our own breakfast then. And what uncanny dread I may have been touched with up to this time

henceforth left me in the face of a real alarm. The shock of Steve was working upon the Virginian. He was

aware of it himself; he was fighting it with all his might; and he was being overcome. He was indeed like a

gallant swimmer against whom both wind and tide have conspired. And in this now foreboding solitude there

was only myself to throw him ropes. His strokes for safety were as bold as was the undertow that ceaselessly

I threw him a rope. "Yes. Nightmareindigestiontoo much newspaper before retiring.

He caught the rope. "That's correct! I had a hell of a foolish dream for a growedup man. You'd not think it

"Ah," he murmured, "prolonged! Prolonged is what does it." He glanced behind him. "Steve came back"

But he missed this rope. "Yes," he answered, with his eyes searching me. "And he handed me the paper"

"I built the fire with it. But when I took it from him it was a sixshooter I had hold of, and pointing at my

breast. And then Steve spoke. 'Do you think you're fit to live?' Steve said; and I got hot at him, and I reckon I

He laughed out. "Oh, I account for all this that's happening just like you do. If we gave our explanations,

"Maybe a bear. Maybe "but here the tide caught him again"What's your idea about dreams?"

"You may think I'm discreditable," he said, "but I know I am. It ought to take more thanwell, men have

lost their friendships before. Feuds and wars have cloven a right smart of bonds in twain. And if my haid is

going to get shook by a little old piece of newspaperI'm ashamed I burned that. I'm ashamed to have been

"Any man gets unstrung," I told him. My ropes had become straws; and I strove to frame some policy for the

We now finished breakfast and set forth to catch the horses. As we drove them in I found that the Virginian

was telling me a ghost story. "At halfpast three in the morning she saw her runaway daughter standing with

a babe in her arms; but when she moved it was all gone. Later they found it was the very same hour the

young mother died in Nogales. And she sent for the child and raised it herself. I knowed them both back

"No more do I believe it," he asserted. "And see here! Nogales time is three hours different from Richmond. I

Once out of these mountains, I knew he could right himself; but even I, who had no Steve to dream about, felt

"Her daughter and her might have been thinkin' mighty hard about each other just then," he pursued. "But

"No, I'm satisfied. Heaven didn't never interest me much. But if there was a world of dreams after you

went" He stopped himself and turned his searching eyes away from mine. "There's a heap o' darkness

wherever you try to step," he said, "and I thought I'd left off wasting thoughts on the subject. You see"he

dexterously roped a horse, and once more his splendid sanity was turned to gold by his imagination" I

expect in many "rowedup men you'd call sensible there's a little boy sleepin'the little kid they onced

wasthat still keeps his fear of the dark. You mentioned the dark yourself yesterday. Well, this experience

has woke up that kid in me, and blamed if I can coax the little cuss to go to sleep again! I keep atelling him

He did not answer, and we put the saddles on without talk. We made no haste, but we were not over half an

hour, I suppose, in getting off with the packs. It was not a new thing to hear a shot where wild game was in

plenty; yet as we rode that shot sounded already in my mind different from others. Perhaps I should not

believe this today but for what I look back to. To make camp last night we had turned off the trail, and now

followed the stream down for a while, taking next a cut through the wood. In this way we came upon the

tracks of our horses where they had been galloping back to the camp after their fright. They had kicked up the

"Here's where they was grazing," said the Virginian; and the signs were clear enough. "Here's where they

must have got their scare," he pursued. "You stay with them while I circle a little." So I stayed; and certainly

our animals were very calm at visiting this scene. When you bring a horse back to where he has recently

"Here's your bear," said he, as I arrived. "Twolegged, you see. And he had a hawss of his own." There was a

"It's Ounces. And Ounces wanted another hawss very bad, so him and Pounds could travel like gentlemen

"Oh, Pounds, he was making coffee, somewheres in yonder, when this happened. Neither of them guessed

there'd be other hawsses wandering here in the night, or they both would have come." He turned back to our

He took out his rifle from beneath his leg and set it across his saddle at halfcock. I did the same; and thus

cautiously we resumed our journey in a slightly different direction. "This ain't all we're going to find out,"

said the Virginian. "Ounces had a good idea; but I reckon he made a bad mistake later."

We had found out a good deal without any more, I thought. Ounces had gone to bring in their single horse,

and coming upon three more in the pasture had undertaken to catch one and failed, merely driving them

The Virginian grinned. "Shorty? Well, Shorty sounds as well as Ounces. But that ain't the mistake I'm

I knew that he would not tell me, but that was just like him. For the last twenty minutes, having something to

do, he had become himself again, had come to earth from that unsafe country of the brain where beckoned a

spectral Steve. Nothing was left but in his eyes that question which pain had set there; and I wondered if his

friend of old, who seemed so brave and amiable, would have dealt him that hurt at the solemn end had he

We came out on a ridge from which we could look down. "You always want to ride on high places when

there's folks around whose intentions ain't been declared," said the Virginian. And we went along our ridge

for some distance. Then, suddenly he turned down and guided us almost at once to the trail. "That's it," he

The track of a horse was very fresh on the trail. But it was a galloping horse now, and no bootprints were

keeping up with it any more. No boots could have kept up with it. The rider was making time today.

Yesterday that horse had been ridden up into the mountains at leisure. Who was on him? There was never to

be any certain answer to that. But who was not on him? We turned back in our journey, back into the heart of

that basin with the tall peaks all rising like teeth in the cloudless sun, and the snowfields shining white.

"He was afraid of us," said the Virginian. "He did not know how many of us had come up here. Three

We followed the backward trail in among the pines, and came after a time upon their camp. And then I

understood the mistake that Shorty had made. He had returned after his failure, and had told that other man of

the presence of new horses. He should have kept this a secret; for haste had to be made at once, and two

cannot get away quickly upon one horse. But it was poor Shorty's last blunder. He lay there by their extinct

fire, with his wistful, lostdog face upward, and his thick yellow hair unparted as it had always been. The

"There was no natural harm in him," said the Virginian. "But you must do a thing well in this country."

There was not a trace, not a clew, of the other man; and we found a place where we could soon cover Shorty

with earth. As we lifted him we saw the newspaper that he had been reading. He had brought it from the

clump of cottonwoods where he and the other man had made a later visit than ours to be sure of the fate of

their friendsor possibly in hopes of another horse. Evidently, when the party were surprised, they had been

able to escape with only one. All of the newspaper was there save the leaf I had picked upall and more, for

this had pencil writing on it that was not mine, nor did I at first take it in. I thought it might be a clew, and I

read it aloud. "Goodby, Jeff," it said. "I could not have spoke to you without playing the baby."

"Who's Jeff?" I asked. But it came over me when I looked at the Virginian. He was standing beside me quite

motionless; and then he put out his hand and took the paper, and stood still, looking at the words. "Steve used

to call me Jeff," he said, "because I was Southern, I reckon nobody else ever did."

He slowly folded the message from the dead, brought by the dead, and rolled it in the coat behind his saddle.

For a halfminute he stood leaning his forehead down against the saddle. After this he came back and

contemplated Shorty's face awhile. "I wish I could thank him," he said. "I wish I could."

We carried Shorty over and covered him with earth, and on that laid a few pine branches; then we took up our

journey, and by the end of the forenoon we had gone some distance upon our trail through the Teton

Mountains. But in front of us the hoofprints ever held their stride of haste, drawing farther from us through

the hours, until by the next afternoon somewhere we noticed they were no longer to be seen; and after that

Somewhere at the eastern base of the Tetons did those hoofprints disappear into a mountain sanctuary where

many crooked paths have led. He that took another man's possessions, or he that took another man's life,

could always run here if the law or popular justice were too hot at his heels. Steep ranges and forests walled

him in from the world on all four sides, almost without a break; and every entrance lay through intricate

solitudes. Snake River came into the place through canyons and mournful pines and marshes, to the north,

and went out at the south between formidable chasms. Every tributary to this stream rose among high peaks

and ridges, and descended into the valley by wellnigh impenetrable courses: Pacific Creek from Two Ocean

Pass, Buffalo Fork from no pass at all, Black Rock from the Towogetee Passall these, and many more,

were the waters of loneliness, among whose thousand hidingplaces it was easy to be lost. Down in the

bottom was a spread of level land, broad and beautiful, with the blue and silver Tetons rising from its chain of

lakes to the west, and other heights presiding over its other sides. And up and down and in and out of this

hollow square of mountains, where waters plentifully flowed, and game and nature' pasture abounded, there

skulked a nomadic and distrustful population. This in due time built cabins, took wives, begot children, and

came to speak of itself as "The honest settlers of Jackson's Hole." It is a commodious title, and doubtless

Into this place the hoofprints disappeared. Not many cabins were yet built there; but the unknown rider of the

horse knew well that he would find shelter and welcome among the felons of his stripe. Law and order might

guess his name correctly, but there was no next step, for lack of evidence; and he would wait, whoever he

was, until the rage of popular justice, which had been pursuing him and his brother thieves, should subside.

Then, feeling his way gradually with prudence, he would let himself be seen again.

And now, as mysteriously as he had melted away, rumor passed over the country. No tongue seemed to be

heard telling the first news; the news was there, one day, a matter of whispered knowledge. On Sunk Creek

and on Bear Creek, and elsewhere far and wide, before men talked men seemed secretly to know that Steve,

and Ed, and Shorty, would never again be seen. Riders met each other in the road and drew rein to discuss the

event, and its bearing upon the cattle interests. In town saloons men took each other aside, and muttered over

Thus it reached the ears of Molly Wood, beginning in a veiled and harmless shape.

Don't you find it lonesome?" And when she answered lightly, he continued, meaning well: "You'll be having

company again soon now. He has finished his job. Wish he'd finished it MORE! Well, good day."

Molly thought these words over. She could not tell why they gave her a strange feeling. To her Vermont mind

no suspicion of the truth would come naturally. But suspicion began to come when she returned frown her

ride. For, entering the cabin of the Taylors', she came upon several people who all dropped their talk short,

and were not skilful at resuming it. She sat there awhile, uneasily severe that all of them knew something

which she did not know, and was not intended to know. A thought pierced her: had anything happened to her

lover? No; that was not it. The man she had met on horseback spoke of her having company soon again. How

soon? she wondered. He had been unable to say when he should return, and now she suddenly felt that a great

silence had enveloped him lately: not the mere silence of absence, of receiving no messages or letters, but

another sort of silence which now, at this moment, was weighing strangely upon her.

And then the next day it came out at the schoolhouse. During that interval known as recess, she became

aware through the open window that they were playing a new game outside. Lusty screeches of delight

"You said you would," said several. "Didn't he say he would? Ah, he said he would. Jump now, quick!"

"But I don't want to," quavered the voice in a tone so dismal that Molly went out to see.

They had got Bob Carmody on the top of the gate by a tree, with a rope round his neck, the other end of

which four little boys were joyously holding. The rest looked on eagerly, three little girls clasping their

"He's said his prayers and everything," they all screamed out. "He's a rustler, and we're lynchin' him. Jump,

"Let him go, boys," said Molly. "You might really hurt him." And so she broke up this game, but not without

And George Taylor further explained: "He said he'd be Steve. But Steve didn't scare." Then George

proceeded to tell the schoolmarm, eagerly, all about Steve and Ed, while the schoolmarm looked at him with

"You promised your mother you'd not tell," said Henry Dow, after all had been told. "You've gone and done

Thus did the New England girl learn what her cowboy lover had done. She spoke of it to nobody; she kept

her misery to herself. He was not there to defend his act. Perhaps in a way that was better. But these were

On that visit to Dunbarton, when at the first sight of her lover's photograph in frontier dress her aunt had

exclaimed, "I suppose there are days when he does not kill people," she had cried in all good faith and mirth,

"He never killed anybody!" Later, when he was lying in her cabin weak from his bullet wound, but each day

stronger beneath her nursing, at a certain word of his there had gone through her a shudder of doubt. Perhaps

in his many wanderings he had done such a thing in selfdefence, or in the cause of popular justice. But she

had pushed the idea away from her hastily, back into the days before she had ever seen him. If this had ever

happened, let her not know of it. Then, as a cruel reward for his candor and his laying himself bare to her

mother, the letters from Bennington had used that very letter of his as a weapon against him. Her sister Sarah

had quoted from it. "He says with apparent pride," wrote Sarah, "that he has never killed for pleasure or

profit.' Those are his exact words, and you may guess their dreadful effect upon mother. I congratulate you,

Thus her elder sister had seen fit to write; and letters from less near relatives made hints at the same subject.

So she was compelled to accept this piece of knowledge thrust upon her. Yet still, still, those events had been

before she knew him. They were remote, without detail or context. He had been little more than a boy. No

doubt it was to save his own life. And so she bore the hurt of her discovery all the more easily because her

In her cabin, alone, after midnight, she arose from her sleepless bed, and lighting the candle, stood before his

"It is a good face," her greataunt had said, after some study of it. And these words were in her mind now.

There his likeness stood at full length, confronting her: the spurs on the boots, the fringed leathern

chaparreros, the coiled rope in hand, the pistol at hip, the rough flannel shirt, and the scarf knotted at the

throatand then the grave eyes, looking at her. It thrilled her to meet them, even so. She could read life into

them. She seemed to feel passion come from them, and then something like reproach. She stood for a long

while looking at him, and then, beating her hands together suddenly, she blew out her light and went back

It may seem severeI think that it was severe. That evening when Mr. Taylor came home to his family,

"And I suppose," said Mrs. Taylor to her husband, "that she came out just in time to stop 'em breaking Bob

Upon the day following Mrs. Taylor essayed the impossible. She took herself over to Molly Wood's cabin.

The girl gave her a listless greeting, and the dame sat slowly down, and surveyed the comfortable room.

"A very nice home, deary," said she, "if it was a home. But you'll fix something like this in your real home, I

"What we're going to do without you I can't see," said Mrs. Taylor. "But I'd not have it different for worlds.

"Mrs. Taylor," said Molly, all at once, "please don't say anything now. I can't stand it." And she broke into

The older woman went to the younger one, and then put her arms round her. But when the tears were over,

they had not done any good; it was not the storm that clears the skyall storms do not clear the sky. And

Mrs. Taylor looked at the pale girl and saw that she could do nothing to help her toward peace of mind.

"Of course," she said to her husband, after returning from her profitless errand, "you might know she'd feel

"Why, you know just as well as I do. And I'll say for myself, I hope you'll never have to help hang folks."

"Well, I don't want it to come. But that poor girl is eating her heart right out over it."

"It's what she don't say. She'll not talk, and she'll not let me talk, and she sits and sits."

"Well, Taylor, I thought you had more sense. You'd not get a word in. She'll be sick soon if her worry ain't

"What does she want this country to do?" inquired Taylor. "Does she expect it to be like Vermont when it"

"We can't help what she expects," his wife interrupted. "But I wish we could help HER."

They could not, however; and help came from another source. Judge Henry rode by the next day. To him

"But why can't I send him over here when he gets back? Then they'll just settle it between themselves."

Mrs. Taylor shook her head. "That would unsettle it worse than it is," she assured him. "They mustn't meet

The Judge sighed. "Well," he said, "very well I'll sacrifice my character, since you insist."

Judge Henry sat thinking, waiting until school should be out. He did not at all relish what lay before him. He

would like to have got out of it. He had been a federal judge; he had been an upright judge; he had met the

responsibilities of his difficult office not only with learning, which is desirable, but also with courage and

common sense besides, and these are essential. He had been a stanch servant of the law. And now he was

invited to defend that which, at first sight, nay, even at second and third sight, must always seem a defiance

of the 1a\v more injurious than crime itself. Every good man in this world has convictions about right and

wrong. They are his soul's riches, his spiritual gold. When his conduct is at variance with these, he knows that

it is a departure, a falling; and this is a simple and clear matter. If falling were all that ever happened to a

good man, all his days would be a simple matter of' striving and repentance. But it is not all. There come to

him certain junctures, crises, when life, like a highwayman, springs upon him, demanding that he stand and

deliver his convictions in the name of some righteous cause, bidding him do evil that good may come. I

cannot say that I believe in doing evil that good may come. I do not. I think that any man who honestly

justifies such course deceives himself. But this I can say: to call any act evil, instantly begs the question.

Many an act that man does is right or wrong according to the time and place which form, so to speak, its

context; strip it of its surrounding circumstances, and you tear away its meaning. Gentlemen reformers,

beware of this common practice of yours! beware of calling an act evil on Tuesday because that same act was

Do you fail to follow my meaning? Then here is an illustration. On Monday I walk over my neighbor's field;

there is no wrong in such walking. By Tuesday he has put up a sign that trespassers will be prosecuted

according to law. I walk again on Tuesday, and am a lawbreaker. Do you begin to see my point? or are you

inclined to object to the illustration because the walking on Tuesday was not WRONG, but merely

ILLEGAL? Then here is another illustration which you will find it a trifle more embarrassing to answer.

Consider carefully, let me beg you, the case of a young man and a young woman who walk out of a door on

Tuesday, pronounced man and wife by a third party inside the door. It matters not that on Monday they were,

in their own hearts, sacredly vowed to each other. If they had omitted stepping inside that door, if they had

dispensed with that third party, and gone away on Monday sacredly vowed to each other in their own hearts,

you would have scarcely found their conduct moral. Consider these things carefully,the signpost and the

third party,and the difference they make. And now, for a finish, we will return to the signpost.

Suppose that I went over my neighbor's field on Tuesday, after the signpost was put up, because I saw a

murder about to be committed in the field, and therefore ran in and stopped it. Was I doing evil that good

might come? Do you not think that to stay out and let the murder be done would have been the evil act in this

case? To disobey the signpost was RIGHT; and I trust that you now perceive the same act may wear as

many different hues of right or wrong as the rainbow, according to the atmosphere in which it is done. It is

not safe to say of any man, "He did evil that good might come." Was the thing that he did, in the first place,

Forgive my asking you to use your mind. It is a thing which no novelist should expect of his reader, and we

He was well aware that if he was to touch at all upon this subject with the New England girl, he could not put

her off with mere platitudes and humdrum formulas; not, at least, if he expected to do any good. She was far

too intelligent, and he was really anxious to do good. For her sake he wanted the course of the girl's true love

to run more smoothly, and still more did he desire this for the sake of his Virginian.

"I sent him myself on that business," the Judge reflected uncomfortably. "I am partly responsible for the

lynching. It has brought him one great unhappiness already through the death of Steve. If it gets running in

this girl's mind, she maydear me!" the Judge broke off, "what a nuisance!" And he sighed. For as all men

know, he also knew that many things should be done in this world in silence, and that talking about them is a

But when school was out, and the girl gone to her cabin, his mind had set the subject in order thoroughly, and

he knocked at her door, ready, as he had put it, to sacrifice his character in the cause of true love.

"Well," he said, coming straight to the point, "some dark things have happened." And when she made no

answer to this, he continued: "But you must not misunderstand us. We're too fond of you for that."

"Judge Henry," said Molly Wood, also coming straight to the point, "have you come to tell me that you think

He met her. "Of burning Southern negroes in public, no. Of hanging Wyoming cattle thieves in private, yes.

"Ohdearme!" slowly exclaimed the Judge. "I am sorry that you cannot see that, because I think that I

can. And I think that you have just as much sense as I have." The Judge made himself very grave and very

goodhumored at the same time. The poor girl was strung to a high pitch, and spoke harshly in spite of

A man less wise than Judge Henry would have smiled at this, and then war would have exploded hopelessly

between them, and harm been added to what was going wrong already. But the Judge knew that he must give

"I don't mean to quibble," he assured her. "I know the trick of escaping from one question by asking another.

But I don't want to escape from anything you hold me to answer. If you can show me that I am wrong, I want

"I want you to be just as willing to be put right by me as I am to be put right by you. And so when you use

such a word as principle, you must help me to answer by saying what principle you mean. For in all sincerity

I see no likeness in principle whatever between burning Southern negroes in public and hanging Wyoming

horsethieves in private. I consider the burning a proof that the South is semibarbarous, and the hanging a

proof that Wyoming is determined to become civilized. We do not torture our criminals when we lynch them.

We do not invite spectators to enjoy their death agony. We put no such hideous disgrace upon the United

States. We execute our criminals by the swiftest means, and in the quietest way. Do you think the principle is

"Call them the ordinary citizens," said the Judge. "I like your term. They are where the law comes from, you

see. For they chose the delegates who made the Constitution that provided for the courts. There's your

machinery. These are the hands into which ordinary citizens have put the law. So you see, at best, when they

lynch they only take back what they once gave. Now we'll take your two cases that you say are the same in

principle. I think that they are not. For in the South they take a negro from jail where he was waiting to be

duly hung. The South has never claimed that the law would let him go. But in Wyoming the law has been

letting our cattlethieves go for two years. We are in a very bad way, and we are trying to make that way a

little better until civilization can reach us. At present we lie beyond its pale. The courts, or rather the juries,

into whose hands we have put the law, are not dealing the law. They are withered hands, or rather they are

imitation hands made for show, with no life in them, no grip. They cannot hold a cattlethief. And so when

your ordinary citizen sees this, and sees that he has placed justice in a dead hand, he must take justice back

into his own hands where it was once at the beginning of all things. Call this primitive, if you will. But so far

from being a DEFIANCE of the law, it is an ASSERTION of itthe fundamental assertion of selfgoverning

men, upon whom our whole social fabric is based. There is your principle, Miss Wood, as I see it. Now can

"Yes; and so is capital punishment terrible. And so is war. And perhaps some day we shall do without them.

After the Judge had departed on his way to Sunk Creek, no one spoke to Molly upon this subject. But her face

did not grow cheerful at once. It was plain from her fits of silence that her thoughts were not at rest. And

sometimes at night she would stand in front of her lover's likeness, gazing upon it with broth love and

After my dark sight of what the Cattle Land could be, I soon had journeyed home by way of Washakie and

Rawlins. Steve and Shorty did not leave my memory, nor will they ever, I suppose.

The Virginian had touched the whole thing the day I left him. He had noticed me looking a sort of farewell at

"You will come back to it," he said. "If there was a headstone for every man that once pleasured in his

freedom here, yu'd see one most every time yu' turned your head. It's a heap sadder than a graveyardbut yu'

Sadness had passed from himfrom his uppermost mood, at least, when he wrote about the rings. Deep in

him was sadness of course, as well as joy. For he had known Steve, and he had covered Shorty with earth. He

had looked upon life with a marks eyes, very close; and no one, if he have a heart, can pass through this and

not carry sadness in his spirit with him forever. But he seldom shows it openly; it bides within him, enriching

It was a commission of cheerfulness that he now gave, being distant from where rings are to be bought. He

could not go so far as the East to procure what he had planned. Rings were to be had in Cheyenne, and a still

greater choice in Denver; and so far as either of these towns his affairs would have permitted him to travel.

But he was set upon having rings from the East. They must come from the best place in the country; nothing

short of that was good enough "to fit her finger," as he said. The wedding ring was a simple matter. Let it be

right, that was all: the purest gold that could be used, with her initials and his together graven round the

The date was now set. It had come so far as this. July third was to be the day. Then for sixty days and nights

he was to be a bridegroom, free from his duties at Sunk Creek, free to take his bride wheresoever she might

Those voices of the world had more than angered her; for after the anger a set purpose was left. Her sister

should have the chance neither to come nor to stay away. Had her mother even answered the Virginian's

letter, there could have been some relenting. But the poor lady had been inadequate in this, as in all other

searching moments of her life: she had sent messages,kind ones, to be sure,but only messages. If this

had hurt the Virginian, no one knew it in the world, least of all the girl in whose heart it had left a cold, frozen

spot. Not a good spirit in which to be married, you will say. No; frozen spots are not good at any time. But

Molly's own nature gave her due punishment. Through all these days of her warm happiness a chill current

ran, like those which interrupt the swimmer's perfect joy. The girl was only half as happy as her lover; but she

hid this deep from him,hid it until that final, fierce hour of reckoning that her nature had with her,nay,

was bound to have with her, before the punishment was lifted, and the frozen spot melted at length from her

So, meanwhile, she made her decree against Bennington. Not Vermont, but Wyoming, should be her wedding

place. No world's voices should be whispering, no world's eyes should be looking on, when she made her

vow to him and received his vow. Those voices should be spoken and that ring put on in this wild Cattle

Land, where first she had seen him ride into the flooded river, and lift her ashore upon his horse. It was this

open sky which should shine down on them, and this frontier soil upon which their feet should tread. The

After a month with him by stream and canyon, a month far deeper into the mountain wilds than ever yet he

had been free to take her, a month with sometimes a tent and sometimes the stars above them, and only their

horses besides themselvesafter such a month as this, she would take him to her mother and to Bennington;

and the old aunt over at Dunbarton would look at him, and be once more able to declare that the Storks had

And so July third was to be engraved inside the wedding ring. Upon the other ring the Virginian had spent

much delicious meditation, all in his secret mind. He had even got the right measure of her finger without her

During the time that his thoughts had begun to be busy over the other ring, by a chance he had learned from

Mrs. Henry a number of old fancies regarding precious stones. Mrs. Henry often accompanied the Judge in

venturesome mountain climbs, and sometimes the steepness of the rocks required her to use her hands for

safety. One day when the Virginian went with them to help mark out certain boundary corners, she removed

her rings lest they should get scratched; and he, being just behind her, took them during the climb.

"I see you're looking at my topaz," she had said, as he returned them. "If I could have chosen, it would have

He did not understand her in the least, but her words awakened exceeding interest in him; and they had

descended some five miles of mountain before he spoke again. Then he became ingenious, for he had half

worked out what Mrs. Henry's meaning must be; but he must make quite sure. Therefore, according to his

"Men wear rings," he began. "Some of the men on the ranch do. I don't see any harm in a man's wearin' a

"Well," said the lady, not yet suspecting that he was undertaking to circumvent her, "probably those men

"No, ma'am. Not sweethearts worth wearin' rings forin two cases, anyway. They won 'em at cyards. And

Then the lady gave him one look, and without further process of mind perceived exactly what he was driving

"Diamonds," murmured the Virginian, more and more thoughtfully. "Well, it don't matter, for I'd not wear a

"Yes. Well, jewels are cert'nly pretty things. In the Spanish Missions yu'll see large ones now and again. And

they're not glass, I think. And so they have got some jewel that kind of belongs to each month right around

"Yes," said Mrs. Henry, smiling. "One for each month. But the opal is what you want."

"October is the opal," she added, and she laughed outright, for Miss Wood's birthday was on the fifteenth of

"I've no doubt you can beat around the bush very well with men," said Mrs. Henry. "But it's perfectly

"Well, I am sorry," he presently said. "I don't want to give her an opal. I have no superstition, but I don't want

to give her an opal. If her mother did, or anybody like that, why, all right. But not from me. D' yu' understand,

Mrs. Henry did understand this subtle trait in the wild man, and she rejoiced to be able to give him immediate

"Don't worry about that," she said. "The opal is said to bring ill luck, but not when it is your own month

stone. Then it is supposed to be not only deprived of evil influence, but to possess peculiarly fortunate power.

Then he asked her boldly various questions, and she shoved him her rings, and gave him advice about the

setting. There was no special custom, she told him, ruling such rings as this he desired to bestow. The gem

might be the lady's favorite or the lover's favorite; and to choose the lady's month stone was very well indeed.

Very well indeed, the Virginian thought. But not quite well enough for him. His mind now busied itself with

this lore concerning jewels, and soon his sentiment had suggested something which he forthwith carried out.

When the ring was achieved, it was an opal, but set with four small embracing diamonds. Thus was her

month stone joined with his, that their luck and their love might be inseparably clasped.

He found the size of her finger one day when winter had departed, and the early grass was green. He made a

ring of twisted grass for her, while she held her hand for him to bind it. He made another for himself. Then,

after each had worn their grass ring for a while, he begged her to exchange. He did not send his token away

from him, but most carefully measured it. Thus the ring fitted her well, and the lustrous flame within the opal

thrilled his heart each time he saw it. For now June was near its end; and that other plain gold ring, which, for

safe keeping, he cherished suspended round his neck day and night, seemed to burn with an inward glow that

So in due course arrived the second of July. Molly's punishment had got as far as this: she longed for her

Town lay twelve straight miles before the lover and his sweetheart, when they came to the brow of the last

long hill. All beneath them was like a map: neither man nor beast distinguishable, but the veined and tinted

image of a country, knobs and flats set out in order clearly, shining extensive and motionless in the sun. It

opened on the sight of the lovers as they reached the sudden edge of the tableland, where since morning they

At the view of their journey's end, the Virginian looked down at his girl beside him, his eyes filled with a

bridegroom's light, and, hanging safe upon his breast, he could feel the gold ring that he would slowly press

upon her finger tomorrow. He drew off the glove from her left hand, and stooping, kissed the jewel in that

other ring which he had given her. The crimson fire in the opal seemed to mingle with that in his heart, and

his arm lifted her during a moment from the saddle as he held her to him. But in her heart the love of him was

troubled by that cold pang of loneliness which had crept upon her like a tide as the day drew near. None of

her own people were waiting in that distant town to see her become his bride. Friendly faces she might pass

on the way; but all of them new friends, made in this wild country: not a face of her childhood would smile

upon her; and deep within her, a voice cried for the mother who was far away in Vermont. That she would

There lay the town in the splendor of Wyoming space. Around it spread the watered fields, westward for a

little way, eastward to a great distance, making squares of green and yellow crops; and the town was but a

poor rag in the midst of this quilted harvest. After the fields to the east, the tawny plain began; and with one

faint furrow of river lining its undulations, it stretched beyond sight. But west of the town rose the Bow Leg

Mountains, cool with their still unmelted snows and their dull blue gulfs of pine. From three canyons flowed

three clear forks which began the river. Their confluence was above the town a good two miles; it looked but

a few paces from up here, while each side the river straggled the margin cottonwoods, like thin borders along

a garden walk. Over all this map hung silence like a harmony, tremendous yet serene.

"How beautiful! how I love it!" whispered the girl" But, oh, how big it is!" And she leaned against her lover

for an instant. It was her spirit seeking shelter. Today, this vast beauty, this primal calm, had in it for her

something almost of dread. The small, comfortable, green hills of home rose before her. She closed her eyes

and saw Vermont. a village street, and the postoffice, and Ivy covering an old front door, and her mother

At a sound, her eyes quickly opened; and here was her lover turned in his saddle, watching another horseman

approach. She saw the Virginian's hand in a certain position, and knew that his pistol was ready. But the other

The man had given one nod to the Virginian, and the Virginian one to him; and now he was already below

them on the descending road. To Molly Wood he was a stranger; but she had seen his eyes when he nodded

to her lover, and she knew, even without the pistol, that this was not enmity at first sight.It was not indeed.

Five years of gathered hate had looked out of the man's eyes. And she asked her lover who this was.

The Virginian looked at her in surprise. "Why, where have you seen him?" he asked.

"My gracious! Yu' never told me yu' had mindreading powers." And he smiled serenely at her.

"My gracious!" her lover repeated with indulgent irony. "I must be mighty careful of my eyes when you're

But he could not joke her off the subject. She look his strong hand in hers, tremulously, so much of it as her

little hand could hold. "I know something about thatthatlast autumn," she said, shrinking from words

"Yes," she asserted, keeping hold of his hand. "I suppose thatlynching" (she almost whispered the word)

"is the only way. But when they had to die just for stealing horses, it seems so wicked that this murderer"

"I know a heap o' things inside my heart. But that's not proving. There was only the body, and the

Then Molly ventured a step inside the border of her lover's reticence. "I saw" she hesitated, "just now, I

He returned to his caressing irony. "You'll have me plumb scared if you keep on seein' things."

"Why, I believe I did. It was mighty unnecessary." And the Virginian took out the pistol again, and shook his

She looked at him, and knew that she must step outside his reticence again. By love and her surrender to him

He was not now, as through his long courting he had been, her halfobeying, halfrefractory worshipper. She

was no longer his halfindulgent, halfscornful superior. Her better birth and schooling that had once been

weapons to keep him at his distance, or bring her off victorious in their encounters, had given way before the

onset of the natural man himself. She knew her cowboy lover, with all that he lacked, to be more than ever

she could be, with all that she had. He was her worshipper still, but her master, too. Therefore now, against

the baffling smile he gave her, she felt powerless. And once again a pang of yearning for her mother to be

near her today shot through the girl. She looked from her untamed man to the untamed desert of Wyoming,

and the town where she was to take him as her wedded husband. But for his sake she would not let him guess

He sat on his horse Monte, considering the pistol. Then he showed her a rattlesnake coiled by the roots of

"Well, I'm told getting married unstrings some men." He aimed, and the snake was shattered. "Maybe it's too

early yet for the unstringing to begin!" And with some deliberation he sent three more bullets into the snake.

"Oh, yes, for the snake." And then, with one leg crooked cowboy fashion across in front of his saddlehorn,

Once more she ventured near the line of his reticence. "Hashas Trampas seen you much lately?"

The Virginian spoke this in his gentlest voice. But his rebuffed sweetheart turned her face away, and from her

He reined his horse Monte beside her, and upon her cheek she felt his kiss. "You are not the only

mindreader," said he, very tenderly. And at this she clung to him, and laid her head upon his breast. "I had

been thinking," he went on, "that the way our marriage is to be was the most beautiful way."

He slowly spoke out his thought, as if she had not said this. "No folks to stare, no fuss, no jokes and ribbons

and best bonnets, no public eye nor talkin' of tongues when most yu' want to hear nothing and say nothing."

"Just the bishop of Wyoming to join us, and not even him after we're once joined. I did think that would be

She looked in his face with quick astonishment. It was as if his spirit had heard the cry of her spirit.

"Yes. Because I did not object. I did not tell you we must go to her. I missed the point, thinking so much

about my own feelings. For you seeand I've never said this to you until nowyour mother did hurt me.

When you said you would have me after my years of waiting, and I wrote her that letter telling her all about

myself, and how my family was not like yours, andandall the rest I told her, why you see it hurt me

never to get a word back from her except just messages through you. For I had talked to her about my hopes

and my failings. I had said more than ever I've said to you, because she was your mother. I wanted her to

forgive me, if she could, and feel that maybe I could take good care of you after all. For it was bad enough to

have her daughter quit her home to teach school out hyeh on Bear Creek. Bad enough without havin' me to

come along and make it worse. I have missed the point in thinking of my own feelings."

With his deep delicacy he had put the whole matter as a hardship to her mother alone. He had saved her any

pain of confession or denial. "Yes, it is my doing," he now said. "Shall we give it up?"

"Why, the order we've got it fixed in. Plans arewell, they're no more than plans. I hate the notion of

changing, but I hate hurting your mother more. Or, anyway, I OUGHT to hate it more. So we can shift, if yu'

"I mean, we can go to your home now. We can start by the stage tonight. Your mother can see us married.

We can come back and finish in the mountains instead of beginning in them. It'll be just merely shifting, yu'

He could scarcely bring himself to say this at all; yet he said it almost as if he were urging it. It implied a

renunciation that he could hardly bear to think of. To put off his wedding day, the bliss upon whose threshold

he stood after his three years of faithful battle for it, and that wedding journey he had arranged: for there were

the mountains in sight, the woods and canyons where he had planned to go with her after the bishop had

joined them; the solitudes where only the wild animals would be, besides themselves. His horses, his tent, his

rifle, his rod, all were waiting ready in the town for their start tomorrow. He had provided many dainty

things to make her comfortable. Well, he could wait a little more, having waited three years. It would not be

what his heart most desired: there would be the "public eye and the talking of tongues "but he could wait.

The hour would come when he could be alone with his bride at last. And so he spoke as if he urged it.

She pushed it from her. She would not brook such sacrifice on his part. Were they not going to her mother in

four weeks? If her family had warmly accepted himbut they had not; and in any case, it had gone too far, it

was too late. She told her lover that she would not hear him, that if he said any more she would gallop into

town separately from him. And for his sake she would hide deep from him this loneliness of hers, and the

hurt that he had given her in refusing to share with her his trouble with Trampas, when others must know of

Accordingly, they descended the hill slowly together, lingering to spin out these last miles long. Many rides

had taught their horses to go side by side, and so they went now: the girl sweet and thoughtful in her sedate

gray habit; and the man in his leathern chaps and cartridge belt and flannel shirt, looking gravely into the

Having read his sweetheart's mind very plainly, the lover now broke his dearest custom. It was his code never

to speak ill of any man to any woman. Men's quarrels were not for women's ears. In his scheme, good women

were to know only a fragment of men's lives. He had lived many outlaw years, and his wide knowledge of

evil made innocence doubly precious to him. But today he must depart from his code, having read her mind

well. He would speak evil of one man to one woman, because his reticence had hurt herand was she not far

from her mother, and very lonely, do what he could? She should know the story of his quarrel in language as

He made an oblique start. He did not say to her: "I'll tell you about this. You saw me get ready for Trampas

because I have been ready for him any time these five years." He began far off from the point with that rooted

caution of histhat caution which is shared by the primal savage and the perfected diplomat.

"There's cert'nly a right smart o' difference between men and women," he observed.

"I don't know about fortunate. Machinery could probably do all the heavy work for us without your help.

She laughed. "We shouldn't need the huge, noisy things you do. Our world would be a gentle one."

"Now it's a funny thing about that. Have yu' ever noticed a joke about fathersinlaw? There's just as many

Molly was not vanquished. "That's because the men write the comic papers," said she.

"Hear that, Monte? The men write 'em. Well, if the ladies wrote a comic paper, I expect that might be gentle."

She gave up this battle in mirth; and he resumed: "But don't you really reckon it's uncommon to meet a

fatherinlaw flouncin' around the house? As for gentleOnce I had to sleep in a room next a ladies'

temperance meetin'. Oh, heavens! Well, I couldn't change my room, and the hotel man, he apologized to me

Here the Virginian broke down over his own fantastic inventions, and gave a joyous chuckle in company with

his sweetheart. "Yes, there's a big heap o' difference between men and women," he said. "Take that fello' and

"Trampas?" said Molly, quickly serious. She looked along the road ahead, and discerned the figure of

The Virginian did not wish her to be seriousmore than could be helped. "Why, yes," he replied, with a

waving gesture at Trampas. "Take him and me. He don't think much o' me! How could he? And I expect he'll

never. But yu' saw just now how it was between us. We were not a bit like a temperance meetin'."

She could not help laughing at the twist he gave to his voice. And she felt happiness warming her; for in the

Virginian's tone about Trampas was something now that no longer excluded her. Thus he began his gradual

recital, in a cadence always easy, and more and more musical with the native accent of the South. With the

"No, he don't think anything of me. Once a man in the John Day Valley didn't think much, and by Canada de

Oro I met another. It will always be so here and there, but Trampas beats 'em all. For the others have always

"Yu' see, I had to explain myself to Trampas a right smart while ago, long before ever I laid my eyes on yu'.

It was just nothing at all. A little matter of cyards in the days when I was apt to spend my money and my

holidays pretty headlong. My gracious, what nonsensical times I have had! But I was apt to win at cyards,

'specially poker. And Trampas, he met me one night, and I expect he must have thought I looked kind o'

young. So he hated losin' his money to such a younglookin' men, and he took his way of sayin' as much. I

had to explain myself to him plainly, so that he learned right away my age had got its growth.

"Well, I expect he hated that worse, having to receive my explanation with folks lookin' on at us publicly

thataway, and him without further ideas occurrin' to him at the moment. That's what started his poor

opinion of me, not havin' ideas at the moment. And so the boys resumed their cyards.

"I'd most forgot about it. But Trampas's mem'ry is one of his strong points. Next thingoh, it's a good while

laterhe gets to losin' flesh because Judge Henry gave me charge of him and some other punchers taking

"Yes; my mem'ry keeps thatlike I keep this." And he brought from his pocket her own handkerchief, the

token he had picked up at a river's brink when he had carried her from an overturned stage.

"We did not exactly meet, then," she said. "It was at that dance. I hadn't seen you yet; but Trampas was

saying something horrid about me, and you saidyou said, 'Rise on your legs, you pole cat, and tell them

you're a liar.' When I heard that, I thinkI think it finished me." And crimson suffused Molly's countenance.

Being caught, he grinned at her. "I reckon husbands are a special kind of man," was all that he found to say.

"Well, since you do know about that, it was the next move in the game. Trampas thought I had no call to stop

him sayin' what he pleased about a woman who was nothin' to methen. But all women ought to be

somethin' to a man. So I had to give Trampas another explanation in the presence of folks lookin' on, and it

was just like the cyards. No ideas occurred to him again. And down goes his opinion of me some more!

"Well, I have not been able to raise it. There has been this and that and the other,yu' know most of the later

doings yourself,and today is the first time I've happened to see the man since the doings last autumn. Yu'

seem to know about them, too. He knows I can't prove he was with that gang of horse thieves. And I can't

prove he killed poor Shorty. But he knows I missed him awful close, and spoiled his thieving for a while. So

d' yu' wonder he don't think much of me? But if I had lived to be twentynine years old like I am, and with all

His story was finished. He had made her his confidant in matters he had never spoken of before, and she was

happy to be thus much nearer to him. It diminished a certain fear that was mingled with her love of him.

During the next several miles he was silent, and his silence was enough for her. Vermont sank away from her

thoughts, and Wyoming held less of loneliness. They descended altogether into the map which had stretched

below them, so that it was a map no longer, but earth with growing things, and prairiedogs sitting upon it,

and now and then a bird flying over it. And after a while she said to him, "What are you thinking about?"

"I have been doing sums. Figured in hours it sounds right short. Figured in minutes it boils up into quite a

mess. Twenty by sixty is twelve hundred. Put that into seconds, and yu' get seventytwo thousand seconds.

With such chopping time wears away. More miles of the road lay behind them, and in the virgin wilderness

the scars of newscraped water ditches began to appear, and the first wire fences. Next, they were passing

cabins and occasional fields, the outposts of habitation. The free road became wholly imprisoned, running

between unbroken stretches of barbed wire. Far off to the eastward a flowing column of dust marked the

approaching stage, bringing the bishop, probably, for whose visit here they had timed their wedding. The day

still brimmed with heat and sunshine; but the great daily shadow was beginning to move from the feet of the

Bow Leg Mountains outward toward the town. Presently they began to meet citizens. Some of these knew

them and nodded, while some did not, and stared. Turning a corner into the town's chief street, where stood

the hotel, the bank, the drug store, the general store, and the seven saloons, they were hailed heartily. Here

were three friends,Honey Wiggin, Scipio Le Moyne, and Lin McLean,all desirous of drinking the

Virginian's health, if his ladywould she mind? The three stood grinning, with their hats off; but behind

"Not one!" said the Virginian. "My old friends scare me when I think of their ways."

"It's bein' engaged scares yu'," retorted Mr. McLean. "Marriage restores your courage, I find."

"Well, I'll trust all of you," said Molly. "He's going to take me to the hotel, and then you can drink his health

With a smile to them she turned to proceed, and he let his horse move with hers; but he looked at his friends.

Then Scipio's bleached blue eyes narrowed to a slit, and he said what they had all come out on the street to

But the Virginian had taken Scipio's meaning. "DON'T CHANGE YOURS CLOTHES." Innocent Molly

appreciated these words no more than the average reader who reads a masterpiece, complacently unaware

that its style differs from that of the morning paper. Such was Scipio's intention, wishing to spare her from

So at the hotel she let her lover go with a kiss, and without a thought of Trampas. She in her room unlocked

Wedding garments, and other civilized apparel proper for a genuine frontiersman when he comes to town,

were also in the hotel, ready for the Virginian to wear. It is only the somewhat green and unseasoned

cowpuncher who struts before the public in spurs and deadly weapons. For many a year the Virginian had

put away these childish things. He made a sober toilet for the streets. Nothing but his face and bearing

remained out of the common when he was in a town. But Scipio had told him not to change his clothes;

therefore he went out with his pistol at his hip. Soon he had joined his three friends.

They strolled into the saloon of a friend, where, unfortunately, sat some foolish people. But one cannot

It was a temperate healthdrinking that they made. "Here's how," they muttered softly to the Virginian; and

"How," he returned softly, looking away from them. But they had a brief meeting of eyes, standing and

lounging near each other, shyly; and Scipio shook hands with the bridegroom. "Some day," he stated, tapping

himself; for in his vagrant heart he began to envy the man who could bring himself to marry. And he nodded

They stood at the bar, full of sentiment, empty of words, memory and affection busy in their hearts. All of

Words ran dry again. They shifted their positions, looked in their glasses, read the labels on the bottles. They

dropped a word now and then to the proprietor about his trade, and his ornaments.

"Big old ram," assented the proprietor. "Shot him myself on Gray Bull last fall."

On the bar stood a machine into which the idle customer might drop his nickel. The coin then bounced among

an arrangement of pegs, descending at length into one or another of various holes. You might win as much as

ten times your stake, but this was not the most usual result; and with nickels the three friends and the

bridegroom now mildly sported for a while, buying them with silver when their store ran out.

"Was it sheep you went after in the Tetons?" inquired the proprietor, knowing it was horse thieves.

The proprietor laughed. The Virginian watched another nickel click down among the pegs.

Honey Wiggin now made the bridegroom a straight offer. "We'll take this thing off your hands, said he.

But Scipio held his peace. His loyalty went every inch as far as theirs, but his understanding of his friend

went deeper. "Don't change your clothes," was the first and the last help he would be likely to give in this

matter. The rest must be as such matters must always be, between man and man. To the other two friends,

however, this seemed a very special case, falling outside established precedent. Therefore they ventured

"A man don't get married every day," apologized McLean. "We'll just run him out of town for yu'."

The proprietor now added his voice. "It'll sober him up to spend his night out in the brush. He'll quit his talk

But the Virginian did not say the word, or any word. He stood playing with the nickels.

"Who else would I be thinking of?" returned the Southerner. His face had become very sombre. "She has

been raised so different!" he murmured. He pondered a little, while the others waited, solicitous.

A new idea came to the proprietor. "I am acting mayor of this town," said he. "I'll put him in the calaboose

Scipio's eye met the proprietor's, and he shook his head about a quarter of an inch. The proprietor shook his to

the same amount. They understood each other. It had come to that point where there was no way out, save

only the ancient, eternal way between man and man. It is only the great mediocrity that goes to law in these

"I expect," said McLean, "he'd run a mile if he was in a state to appreciate his insinuations."

"Which we are careful not to mention to yu'," said Wiggin, "unless yu' inquire for 'em."

Some of the fools present had drawn closer to hear this interesting conversation. In gatherings of more than

six there will generally be at least one fool; and this company must have numbered twenty men.

"This country knows well enough," said one fool, who hungered to be important, "that you don't brand no

The saturnine Virginian looked at him. "Thank yu'," said he, gravely, "for your indorsement of my character."

The fool felt flattered. The Virginian turned to his friends. His hand slowly pushed his hat back, and he

"Glad to see yu've got your gun with you," continued the happy fool. "You know what Trampas claims about

that affair of yours in the Tetons? He claims that if everything was known about the killing of Shorty"

"Take one on the house," suggested the proprietor to him, amiably. "Your news will be fresher." And he

"This talk had went the rounds before it got to us," said Scipio, "or we'd have headed it off. He has got friends

Perplexity knotted the Virginian's brows. This community knew that a man had implied he was a thief and a

murderer; it also knew that he knew it. But the case was one of peculiar circumstances, assuredly. Could he

avoid meeting the man? Soon the stage would be starting south for the railroad. He had already today

proposed to his sweetheart that they should take it. Could he for her sake leave unanswered a talking enemy

Into these reflections the fool stepped once more. "Of course this country don't believe Trampas," said he.

But he contributed no further thoughts. From somewhere in the rear of the building, where it opened upon the

tin cans and the hinder purlieus of the town, came a movement, and Trampas was among them, courageous

All the fools now made themselves conspicuous. One lay on the floor, knocked there by the Virginian, whose

arm he had attempted to hold. Others struggled with Trampas, and his bullet smashed the ceiling before they

could drag the pistol from him. "There now! there now!" they interposed; "you don't want to talk like that,"

for he was pouring out a tide of hate and vilification. Yet the Virginian stood quiet by the bar, and many an

eye of astonishment was turned upon him. "I'd not stand half that language," some muttered to each other.

Still the Virginian waited quietly, while the fools reasoned with Trampas. But no earthly foot can step

"Your friends have saved your life," he rang out, with obscene epithets. "I'll give you till sundown to leave

"He never has wanted it," Trampas sneered to the bystanders. "He has been dodging it five years. But I've got

The whiskey bottle flew through the air, hurled by Trampas, and crashed through the saloon window behind

"Get out by sundown, that's all," said Trampas. And wheeling, he went out of the saloon by the rear, as he

"Sure!" exclaimed the proprietor, heartily, "We'll see that everybody lets this thing alone."

The Virginian gave a general nod to the company, and walked out into the street.

The Virginian walked in the open air with thoughts disturbed. "I am of two minds about one thing," he said to

Gossip ran in advance of him; but as he came by, the talk fell away until he had passed. Then they looked

after him, and their words again rose audibly. Thus everywhere a little eddy of silence accompanied his steps.

"It don't trouble him much," one said, having read nothing in the Virginian's face.

"How would it suit you to have him live longer?" inquired a member of the opposite faction, suspected of

"I could answer your question, if I had other folks' calves I wanted to brand." This raised both a laugh and a

The Virginian, still walking aloof in the open air, paused at the edge of the town. "I'd sooner have a sickness

than be undecided this way," he said, and he looked up and down. Then a grim smile came at his own

Over there in the hotel sat his sweetheart alone, away from her mother, her friends, her home, waiting his

return, knowing nothing. He looked into the west. Between the sun and the bright ridges of the mountains

was still a space of sky; but the shadow from the mountains' feet had drawn halfway toward the town. "About

forty minutes more," he said aloud. "She has been raised so different." And he sighed as he turned back. As

he went slowly, he did not know how great was his own unhappiness. "She has been raised so different," he

Opposite the postoffice the bishop of Wyoming met him and greeted him. His lonely heart throbbed at the

warm, firm grasp of this friend's hand. The bishop saw his eyes glow suddenly, as if tears were close. But

But gossip had reached the bishop, and he was sorely troubled also. "What is all this?" said he, coming

The Virginian looked at the clergyman frankly. 'Yu' know just as much about it as I do," he said. "And I'll tell

The eyes of the bridegroom fell, and the bishop's face grew at once more keen and more troubled. Then the

bridegroom raised his eyes again, and the bishop almost loved him. He touched his arm, like a brother. "This

The bridegroom could scarce keep his voice steady. "I want to do right today more than any day I have ever

"I expected you was going to tell me to run away from Trampas. I can't do that, yu' know."

The bishop did know. Never before in all his wilderness work had he faced such a thing. He knew that

Trampas was an evil in the country, and that the Virginian was a good. He knew that the cattle thievesthe

rustlerswere gaining, in numbers and audacity; that they led many weak young fellows to ruin; that they

elected their men to office, and controlled juries; that they were a staring menace to Wyoming. His heart was

with the Virginian. But there was his Gospel, that he preached, and believed, and tried to live. He stood

looking at the ground and drawing a finger along his eyebrow. He wished that he might have heard nothing

about all this. But he was not one to blink his responsibility as a Christian server of the church militant.

"Am I right," he now slowly asked, "in believing that you think I am a sincere man?"

"That ain't quite fair, seh. We all understand you have got to do the things you tell other folks to do. And you

do them, seh. You never talk like anything but a man, and you never set yourself above others. You can

saddle your own horses. And I saw yu' walk unarmed into that White River excitement when those two other

The bishop instantly rebuked such language about brothers of his cloth, even though he disapproved both of

them and their doctrines. "Every one may be an instrument of Providence," he concluded.

"Well," said the Virginian, "if that is so, then Providence makes use of instruments I'd not touch with a

tenfoot pole. Now if you was me, seh, and not a bishop, would you run away from Trampas?"

"That's not quite fair, either!" exclaimed the bishop, with a smile. "Because you are asking me to take another

"Yes, seh. I am. That's so. That don't get at it. I reckon you and I can't get at it."

"If the Bible," said the bishop, "which I believe to be God's word, was anything to you"

The Virginian took his turn at smiling. "Mighty plain to me, seh. Make it plain to Trampas, and there'll be no

Once more the bishop quoted earnestly. "'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.'"

"How about instruments of Providence, seh? Why, we can't get at it that way. If you start usin' the Bible that

"My friend," the bishop urged, and all his good, warm heart was in it, "my dear fellowgo away for the one

The Virginian shook his head. "He cannot change his word, seh. Or at least I must stay around till he does.

Why, I have given him the sayso. He's got the choice. Most men would not have took what I took from him

The good bishop was at a standstill. Of all kicking against the pricks none is so hard as this kick of a

"But you have helped me some," said the Virginian. "I will go and tell her. At least, if I think it will be good

"Well, I was weary, yu' know, of havin' elder brothers lay down my law night and mawnin'."

"Yes, I know. So that your life has been your own for fifteen years. But it is not your own now. You have

"Yes; I have given it to her. But my life's not the whole of me. I'd give her twice my lifefiftya thousand

of 'em. But I can't give herher nor anybody in heaven or earthI can't give mymywe'll never get at

it, seh! There's no good in words. Goodby." The Virginian wrung the bishop's hand and left him.

The Virginian unlocked the room in the hotel where he kept stored his tent, his blankets, his packsaddles,

and his many accoutrements for the bridal journey in the mountains. Out of the window he saw the mountains

blue in shadow, but some cottonwoods distant in the flat between were still bright green in the sun. From

among his possessions he took quickly a pistol, wiping and loading it. Then from its holster he removed the

pistol which he had tried and made sure of in the morning. This, according to his wont when going into a risk,

he shoved between his trousers and his shirt in front. The untried weapon he placed in the holster, letting it

hang visibly at his hip. He glanced out of the window again, and saw the mountains of the same deep blue.

But the cottonwoods were no longer in the sunlight. The shadow had come past them, nearer the town; for

fifteen of the forty minutes were gone. "The bishop is wrong," he said. "There is no sense in telling her." And

"It has been so frightful waiting for you," said she, leaning her head against him.

She went on: "I wanted to run out and find you; but I didn't! I didn't! I stayed quiet in my room till they said

"How could you be so long?" she asked. "Never mind, I've got you now. It is over."

Anger and sorrow filled him. "I might have known some fool would tell you," he said.

"It's all over. Never mind." Her arms tightened their hold of him. Then she let him go. "What shall we do?"

"I know it is a heap worse for you," he pursued, speaking slowly. "I knew it would be."

He did not understand her now. He kissed her. "Did you think it was over?" he said simply. "There is some

waiting still before us. I wish you did not have to wait alone. But it will not be long." He was looking down,

and did; not see the happiness grow chilled upon her face, and then fade into bewildered fear. "I did my best,

he went on. "I think I did. I know I tried. I let him say to me before them all what no man has ever said, or

ever will again. I kept thinking hard of youwith all my might, or I reckon I'd have killed him right there.

And I gave him a show to change his mind. I gave it to him twice. I spoke as quiet as I am speaking to you

now. But he stood to it. And I expect he knows he went too far in the hearing of others to go back on his

Her dilated eves were fixed upon him. "But" she could scarce form utterance, "but you?"

She recoiled a step. "What are you going" She put her two hands to her head. "Oh, God!" she almost

shrieked, "you are going" He made a step, and would have put his arm round her, but she backed against

"You meanyou meanbut you can come away!" she cried. "It's not too late yet. You can take yourself out

of his reach. Everybody knows that you are brave. What is he to you? You can leave him in this place. I'll go

with you anywhere. To any house, to the mountains, to anywhere away. We'll leave this horrible place

together andandoh, won't you listen to me?" She stretched her hands to him. "Won't you listen?"

Her hands clung to his. "No, no, no. There's something else. There's something better than shedding blood in

cold blood. Only think what it means! Only think of having to remember such a thing! Why, it's what they

"When there was the choice!" she exclaimed, half to herself, like a person stunned and speaking to the air.

"He did the choosing," answered the Virginian. "Listen to me. Are you listening?" he asked, for her gaze was

"I work hyeh. I belong hyeh. It's my life. If folks came to think I was a coward"

"Everybody. My friends would be sorry and ashamed, and my enemies would walk around saying they had

"There is a higher courage than fear of outside opinion," said the New England girl.

Her Southern lover looked at her. "Cert'nly there is. That's what I'm showing in going against yours.

"But if you know that you are brave, and if I know that you are brave, oh, my dear, my dear! what difference

"I am goin' my own course," he broke in. "Can't yu' see how it must be about a man? It's not for their benefit,

friends or enemies, that I have got this thing to do. If any man happened to say I was a thief and I heard about

it, would I let him go on spreadin' such a thing of me? Don't I owe my own honesty something better than

that? Would I sit down in a corner rubbin' my honesty and whisperin' to it, 'There! there! I know you ain't a

thief"? No, seh; not a little bit! What men say about my nature is not just merely an outside thing. For the fact

that I let 'em keep on sayin' it is a proof I don't value my nature enough to shield it from their slander and give

"I cannot," she answered, in a voice that scarcely seemed her own. "If I ought to, I cannot. To shed blood in

cold blood. When I heard about that last fall,about the killing of those cattle thieves,I kept saying to

myself: 'He had to do it. It was a public duty.' And lying sleepless I got used to Wyoming being different

from Vermont. But this"she gave a shudder" when I think of tomorrow, of you and me, and ofIf you

He stood still, his hand shaking a little. "Will you look at me and say that?" he murmured at length. She did

His sweetness made her turn, but could not pierce her frozen resolve. She gazed at him across the great

He looked out of the window, and saw nothing but shadow. The blue of the mountains was now become a

At that word she was at his feet, clutching him. "For my sake," she begged him. "For my sake."

A tremble passed through his frame. She felt his legs shake as she held them, and, looking up, she saw that

his eyes were closed with misery. Then he opened them, and in their steady look she read her answer. He

"I have no right to kiss you any more," he said. And then, before his desire could break him down from this,

She did not fall, or totter, but stood motionless. And nextit seemed a moment and it seemed eternityshe

heard in the distance a shot, and then two shots. Out of the window she saw people beginning to run. At that

she turned and fled to her room, and flung herself face downward upon the floor.

Trampas had departed into solitude from the saloon, leaving behind him his ULTIMATUM. His loud and

public threat was town knowledge already, would very likely be county knowledge tonight. Riders would

take it with them to entertain distant cabins up the river and down the river; and by dark the stage would go

south with the news of itand the news of its outcome. For everything would be over by dark. After five

years, here was the end comingcoming before dark. Trampas had got up this morning with no such

thought. It seemed very strange to look back upon the morning; it lay so distant, so irrevocable. And he

thought of how he had eaten his breakfast. How would he eat his supper? For supper would come afterward.

Some people were eating theirs now, with nothing like this before them. His heart ached and grew cold to

He looked at the mountains, and saw the sun above their ridges, and the shadow coming from their feet. And

there close behind him was the morning he could never go back to. He could see it clearly; his thoughts

reached out like arms to touch it once more, and be in it again. The night that was coming he could not see,

and his eyes and his thoughts shrank from it. He had given his enemy until sundown. He could not trace the

path which had led him to this. He remembered their first meetingfive years back, in Medicine Bow, and

the words which at once began his hate. No, it was before any words; it was the encounter of their eyes. For

out of the eyes of every stranger looks either a friend or an enemy, waiting to be known. But how had five

years of hate come to play him such a trick, suddenly, today? Since last autumn he had meant sometime to

get even with this man who seemed to stand at every turn of his crookedness, and rob him of his spoils. But

how had he come to choose such a way of getting even as this, face to face? He knew many better ways; and

now his own rash proclamation had trapped him. His words were like doors shutting him in to perform his

Trampas looked at the sun and the shadow again. He had till sundown. The heart inside him was turning it

round in this opposite way: it was to HIMSELF that in his rage he had given this lessening margin of grace.

But he dared not leave town in all the world's sight after all the world had heard him. Even his friends would

fall from him after such an act. Could hethe thought actually came to himcould he strike before the time

set? But the thought was useless. Even if his friends could harbor him after such a deed, his enemies would

find him, and his life would be forfeit to a certainty. His own trap was closing upon him.

He came upon the main street, and saw some distance off the Virginian standing in talk with the bishop. He

slunk between two houses, and cursed both of them. The sight had been good for him, bringing some warmth

of rage back to his desperate heart. And he went into a place and drank some whiskey.

But the nerves of Trampas were almost beyond the reach of intoxication, and he swallowed some more, and

went out again. Presently he fell in with some of his brothers in cattle stealing, and walked along with them

"Well, it will not be long now," they said to him. And he had never heard words so desolate.

"No," he made out to say; "soon now." Their cheerfulness seemed unearthly to him, and his heart almost

So with them he repaired to another place; and the sight of a man leaning against the bar made him start so

that they noticed him. Then he saw that the man was a stranger whom he had never laid eyes on till now.

"Shorty is quiet up in the Tetons," said a friend. "You don't want to be thinking about him. Here's how!"

Then they clapped him on the back and he left them. He thought of his enemy and his hate, beating his rage

like a failing horse, and treading the courage of his drink. Across a space he saw Wiggin, walking with

McLean and Scipio. They were watching the town to see that his friends made no foul play.

Trampas looked at the walls and windows of the houses. Were they real? Was he here, walking in this street?

Something had changed. He looked everywhere, and feeling it everywhere, wondered what this could be.

Then he knew: it was the sun that had gone entirely behind the mountains, and he drew out his pistol.

The Virginian, for precaution, did not walk out of the front door of the hotel. He went through back ways,

and paused once. Against his breast he felt the wedding ring where he had it suspended by a chain from his

neck. His hand went up to it, and he drew it out and looked at it. He took it off the chain, and his arm went

back to hurl it from him as far as he could. But he stopped and kissed it with one sob, and thrust it in his

pocket. Then he walked out into the open, watching. He saw men here and there, and they let him pass as

before, without speaking. He saw his three friends, and they said no word to him. But they turned and

followed in his rear at a little distance, because it was known that Shorty had been found shot from behind.

The Virginian gained a position soon where no one could come at him except from in front; and the sight of

the mountains was almost more than he could endure, because it was there that he had been going

A wind seemed to blow his sleeve off his arm, and he replied to it, and saw Trampas pitch forward. He saw

Trampas raise his arm from the ground and fall again, and lie there this time, still. A little smoke was rising

from the pistol on the ground, and he looked at his own, and saw the smoke flowing upward out of it.

But as he came nearer Trampas, he covered him with his weapon. He stopped a moment, seeing the hand on

the ground move. Two fingers twitched, and then ceased; for it was all. The Virginian stood looking down at

"Both of mine hit," he said, once more aloud " His must have gone mighty close to my arm. I told her it

He had scarcely noticed that he was being surrounded and congratulated. His hand was being shaken, and he

saw it was Scipio in tears. Scipio's joy made his heart like lead within him. He was near telling his friend

"Who'll want you?" said Scipio. "Three of us saw his gun out." And he vented his admiration. "You were that

Scipio looked after him, astonished. "Yu' might suppose he was in poor luck," he said to McLean.

The Virginian walked to the hotel, and stood on the threshold of his sweetheart's room. She had heard his

step, and was upon her feet. Her lips were parted, and her eyes fixed on him, nor did she move, or speak.

"Oh, thank God!" she said; and he found her in his arms. Long they embraced without speaking, and what

Thus did her New England conscience battle to the end, and, in the end, capitulate to love. And the next day,

with the bishop's blessing, and Mrs. Taylor's broadest smile, and the ring on her finger, the Virginian

For their first bridal camp he chose an island. Long weeks beforehand he had thought of this place, and set

his heart upon it. Once established in his mind, the thought became a picture that he saw waking and

sleeping. He had stopped at the island many times alone, and in all seasons; but at this special moment of the

year he liked it best. Often he had added several needless miles to his journey that he might finish the day at

this point, might catch the trout for his supper beside a certain rock upon its edge, and fall asleep hearing the

Always for him the first signs that he had gained the true world of the mountains began at the island. The first

pine trees stood upon it; the first white columbine grew in their shade; and it seemed to him that he always

met here the first of the true mountain airthe coolness and the new fragrance. Below, there were only the

cottonwoods, and the knolls and steep foothills with their sagebrush, and the great warm air of the plains;

here at this altitude came the definite change. Out of the lower country and its air he would urge his horse

Then, when at length he had ridden abreast of the island pines, he would ford to the sheltered circle of his

campground, throw off the saddle and blanket from the horse's hot, wet back, throw his own clothes off,

and, shouting, spring upon the horse bare, and with a rope for bridle, cross with him to the promised pasture.

Here there was a pause in the mountain steepness, a level space of open, green with thick grass. Riding his

horse to this, he would leap off him, and with the flat of his hand give him a blow that cracked sharp in the

stillness and sent the horse galloping and gambolling to his night's freedom. And while the animal rolled in

the grass, often his master would roll also, and stretch, and take the grass in his two hands, and so draw his

body along, limbering his muscles after a long ride. Then he would slide into the stream below his fishing

place, where it was deep enough for swimming, and cross back to his island, and dressing again, fit his rod

together and begin his casting. After the darkness had set in, there would follow the lying drowsily with his

head upon his saddle, the campfire sinking as he watched it, and sleep approaching to the murmur of the

So many visits to this island had he made, and counted so many hours of revery spent in its haunting

sweetness, that the spot had come to seem his own. It belonged to no man, for it was deep in the unsurveyed

and virgin wilderness; neither had he ever made his camp here with any man, nor shared with any the

intimate delight which the place gave him. Therefore for many weeks he had planned to bring her here after

their wedding, upon the day itself, and show her and share with her his pines and his fishing rock. He would

bid her smell the first true breath of the mountains, would watch with her the sinking campfire, and with her

Until this wedding plan, it had by no means come home to him how deep a hold upon him the island had

taken. He knew that he liked to go there, and go alone; but so little was it his way to scan himself, his mind,

or his feelings (unless some action called for it), that he first learned his love of the place through his love of

her. But he told her nothing of it. After the thought of taking her there came to him, he kept his island as

something to let break upon her own eyes, lest by looking forward she should look for more than the reality.

Hence, as they rode along, when the houses of the town were shrunk to dots behind them, and they were

nearing the gates of the foothills, she asked him questions. She hoped they would find a camp a long way

from the town. She could ride as many miles as necessary. She was not tired. Should they not go on until they

found a good place far enough within the solitude? Had he fixed upon any? And at the nod and the silence

that he gave her for reply, she knew that he had thoughts and intentions which she must wait to learn.

They passed through the gates of the foothills, following the stream up among them. The outstretching

fences and the widely trodden dust were no more. Now and then they rose again into view of the fields and

houses down in the plain below. But as the sum of the miles and hours grew, they were glad to see the road

less worn with travel, and the traces of men passing from sight. The ploughed and planted country, that quilt

of manycolored harvests which they had watched yesterday, lay in another world from this where they rode

now. No hand but nature's had sown these crops of yellow flowers, these willow thickets and tall

cottonwoods. Somewhere in a passage of red rocks the last sign of wagon wheels was lost, and after this the

trail became a wild mountain trail. But it was still the warm air of the plains, bearing the sagebrush odor and

not the pine, that they breathed; nor did any forest yet cloak the shapes of the tawny hills among which they

were ascending. Twice the steepness loosened the pack ropes, and he jumped down to tighten them, lest the

horses should get sore backs. And twice the stream that they followed went into deep canyons, so that for a

while they parted from it. When they came back to its margin for the second time, he bade her notice how its

water had become at last wholly clear. To her it had seemed clear enough all along, even in the plain above

the town. But now she saw that it flowed lustrously with flashes; and she knew the soil had changed to

mountain soil. Lower down, the water had carried the slightest cloud of alkali, and this had dulled the keen

edge of its transparence. Full solitude was around them now, so that their words grew scarce, and when they

spoke it was with low voices. They began to pass nooks and points favorable for camping, with wood and

water at hand, and pasture for the horses. More than once as they reached such places, she thought he must

surely stop; but still he rode on in advance of her (for the trail was narrow) until, when she was not thinking

She looked, and saw the island, and the water folding it with ripples and with smooth spaces The sun was

throwing upon the pine boughs a light of deepening red gold, and the shadow of the fishing rock lay over a

little bay of quiet water and sandy shore. In this forerunning glow of the sunset, the pasture spread like

emerald; for the dry touch of summer had not yet come near it. He pointed upward to the high mountains

which they had approached, and showed her where the stream led into their first unfoldings.

He nodded for answer, and she gazed at the island and understood why he had not stopped before; nothing

There was room in the trail for them to go side by side; and side by side they rode to the ford and crossed,

driving the packhorses in front of them, until they came to the sheltered circle, and he helped her down where

the soft pine needles lay. They felt each other tremble, and for a moment she stood hiding her head upon his

breast. Then she looked round at the trees, and the shores, and the flowing stream, and he heard her

"I am glad," he said, still holding her. "This is how I have dreamed it would happen. Only it is better than my

dreams." And when she pressed him in silence, he finished, "I have meant we should see our first sundown

She wished to help him take the packs from their horses, to make the camp together with him, to have for her

share the building of the fire, and the cooking. She bade him remember his promise to her that he would teach

her how to loop and draw the packropes, and the swingropes on the packsaddles, and how to pitch a tent.

Why might not the first lesson be now? But he told her that this should be fulfilled later. This night he was to

do all himself. And he sent her away until he should have camp ready for them. He bade her explore the

island, or take her horse and ride over to the pasture, where she could see the surrounding hills and the circle

"The whole world is far from here," he said. And so she obeyed him, and went away to wander about in their

Then at once, as soon as she was gone, he fell to. The packs and saddles came off the horses, which he turned

loose upon the pasture on the main land. The tent was unfolded first. He had long seen in his mind where it

should go, and how its white shape would look beneath the green of the encircling pines. The ground was

level in the spot he had chosen, without stones or roots, and matted with the fallen needles of the pines. If

there should come any wind, or storm of rain, the branches were thick overhead, and around them on three

sides tall rocks and undergrowth made a barrier. He cut the pegs for the tent, and the front pole, stretching

and tightening the rope, one end of it pegged down and one round a pine tree. When the tightening rope had

lifted the canvas to the proper height from the ground, he spread and pegged down the sides and back, leaving

the opening so that they could look out upon the fire and a piece of the stream beyond. He cut tufts of young

pine and strewed them thickly for a soft floor in the tent, and over them spread the buffalo hide and the

blankets. At the head he placed the neat sack of her belongings. For his own he made a shelter with crossed

poles and a sheet of canvas beyond the first pines. He built the fire where its smoke would float outward from

the trees and the tent, and near it he stood the cooking things and his provisions, and made this first supper

ready in the twilight. He had brought much with him; but for ten minutes he fished, catching trout enough.

When at length she came riding over the stream at his call, there was nothing for her to do but sit and eat at

the table he had laid. They sat together, watching the last of the twilight and the gentle oncoming of the dusk.

The final afterglow of day left the sky, and through the purple which followed it came slowly the first stars,

bright and wide apart. They watched the spaces between them fin with more stars, while near them the flames

and embers of their fire grew brighter. Then he sent her to the tent while he cleaned the dishes and visited the

horses to see that they did not stray from the pasture. Some while after the darkness was fully come, he

rejoined her. All had been as he had seen it in his thoughts beforehand: the pines with the setting sun upon

them, the sinking campfire, and now the sound of the water as it flowed murmuring by the shores of the

The tent opened to the east, and from it they watched together their first sunrise. In his thoughts he had seen

this morning beforehand also: the waking, the gentle sound of the water murmuring ceaselessly, the growing

day, the vision of the stream, the sense that the world was shut away far from them. So did it all happen,

They saw the sunlight begin upon a hilltop; and presently came the sun itself, and lakes of warmth flowed

into the air, slowly filling the green solitude. Along the island shores the ripples caught flashes from the sun.

"I am going into the stream," he said to her; and rising, he left her in the tent. This was his side of the island,

he had told her last night; the other was hers, where he had made a place for her to bathe. When he was gone,

she found it, walking through the trees and rocks to the water's edge. And so, with the island between them,

the two bathed in the cold stream. When he came back, he found her already busy at their camp. The blue

smoke of the fire was floating out from the trees, loitering undispersed in the quiet air, and she was getting

their breakfast. She had been able to forestall him because he had delayed long at his dressing, not willing to

return to her unshaven. She looked at his eyes that were clear as the water he had leaped into, and at his soft

"Do not let us ever go away from here!" she cried, and ran to him as he came.They sat long together at

breakfast, breathing the morning breath of the earth that was fragrant with woodland moisture and with the

pines. After the meal he could not prevent her helping him make everything clean. Then, by all customs of

mountain journeys, it was time they should break camp and be moving before the heat of the day. But first,

they delayed for no reason, save that in these hours they so loved to do nothing. And next, when with some

energy he got upon his feet and declared he must go and drive the horses in, she asked, Why? Would it not be

well for him to fish here, that they might be sure of trout at their nooning? And though he knew that where

they should stop for noon, trout would be as sure as here, he took this chance for more delay.

She went with him to his fishing rock, and sat watching him. The rock was tall, higher than his head when he

stood. It jutted out halfway across the stream, and the water flowed round it in quick foam, and fell into a

pool. He caught several fish; but the sun was getting high, and after a time it was plain the fish had ceased to

Yet still he stood casting in silence, while she sat by and watched him. Across the stream, the horses

wandered or lay down in their pasture. At length he said with half a sigh that perhaps they ought to go.

Her question sent delight through him like a flood. "Then you do not want to move camp today?" said he.

At this he laid down his rod and came and sat by her. "I am very glad we shall not go till tomorrow," he

"Not tomorrow," she said. "Nor next day. Nor any day until we must." And she stretched her hands out to

He took her in his arms. "You feel about it the way I do," he almost whispered. "I could not have hoped

Presently, while they remained without speaking by the pool, came a little wild animal swimming round the

rock from above. It had not seen them, nor suspected their presence. They held themselves still, watching its

alert head cross through the waves quickly and come down through the pool, and so swim to the other side.

There it came out on a small stretch of sand, turned its gray head and its pointed black nose this way and that,

never seeing them, and then rolled upon its back in the warm dry sand. After a minute of rolling, it got on its

"I am like that fellow," he said dreamily. "I have often done the same." And stretching slowly his arms and

legs, he lay full length upon his back, letting his head rest upon her. "If I could talk his animal language, I

could talk to him," he pursued. "And he would say to me: 'Come and roll on the sands. Where's the use of

fretting? What's the gain in being a man? Come roll on the sands with me.' That's what he would say." The

Virginian paused. "But," he continued, "the trouble is, I am responsible. If that could only be forgot forever

by you and me!" Again he paused and went on, always dreamily. "Often when I have camped here, it has

made me want to become the ground, become the water, become the trees, mix with the whole thing. Not

know myself from it. Never unmix again. Why is that?" he demanded, looking at her. "What is it? You don't

"No; none except the ones who understand things they can't put words to. But you did!" He put up a hand and

touched her softly. "You understood about this place. And that's what makes itmakes you and me as we are

He sighed with supreme quiet and happiness, and seemed to stretch his length closer to the earth. And so he

lay, and talked to her as he had never talked to any one, not even to himself. Thus she learned secrets of his

heart new to her: his visits here, what they were to him, and why he had chosen it for their bridal camp.

"What I did not know at all," he said, "was the way a man can be pining forfor thisand never guess what

Then he had finished talking, still he lay extended and serene; and she looked down at him and the wonderful

change that had come over him, like a sunrise. Was this dreamy boy the man of two days ago? It seemed a

distance immeasurable; yet it was two days only since that wedding eve when she had shrunk from him as he

stood fierce and implacable. She could look back at that dark hour now, although she could not speak of it.

She had seen destruction like sharp steel glittering in his eyes. Were these the same eyes? Was this youth

with his black head of hair in her lap the creature with whom men did not trifle, whose hand knew how to

deal death? Where had the man melted away to in this boy? For as she looked at him, he might have been no

older than nineteen today. Not even at their first meetingthat night when his freakish spirit was

uppermosthad he looked so young. This change their hours upon the island had wrought, filling his face

By and by they made their nooning. In the afternoon she would have explored the nearer woods with him, or

walked up the stream. But since this was to be their camp during several days, he made it more complete. He

fashioned a rough bench and a table; around their tent he built a tall windbreak for better shelter in case of

storm; and for the fire he gathered and cut much wood, and piled it up. So they were provided for, and so for

Once his hedge of boughs did them good service, for they had an afternoon of furious storm. The wind

rocked the pines and ransacked the island, the sun went out, the black clouds rattled, and white bolts of

lightning fell close by. The shower broke through the pine branches and poured upon the tent. But he had

removed everything inside from where it could touch the canvas and so lead the water through, and the rain

ran off into the ditch he had dug round the tent. While they sat within, looking out upon the bounding floods

and the white lightning, she saw him glance at her apprehensively, and at once she answered his glance.

"I am not afraid," she said. "If a flame should consume us together now, what would it matter?"

And so they sat watching the storm till it was over, he with his face changed by her to a boy's, and she

When at last they were compelled to leave the island, or see no more of the mountains, it was not a final

parting. They would come back for the last night before their journey ended. Furthermore, they promised

each other like two children to come here every year upon their wedding day, and like two children they

believed that this would be possible. But in after years they did come, more than once, to keep their wedding

day upon the island, and upon each new visit were able to say to each other, "Better than our dreams."

For thirty days by the light of the sun and the campfire light they saw no faces except their own; and when

they were silent it was all stillness, unless the wind passed among the pines, or some flowing water was near

them. Sometimes at evening they came upon elk, or blacktailed deer, feeding out in the high parks of the

mountains; and once from the edge of some concealing timber he showed her a bear, sitting with an old log

lifted in its paws. She forbade him to kill the bear, or any creature that they did not require. He took her

upward by trail and canyon, through the unfooted woods and along dwindling streams to their headwaiters,

lakes lying near the summit of the range, full of trout, with meadows of long grass and a thousand flowers,

They made their camps in many places, delaying several days here, and one night there, exploring the high

solitudes together, and sinking deep in their romance. Sometimes when he was at work with their horses, or

intent on casting his brown hackle for a fish, she would watch him with eyes that were fuller of love than of

understanding. Perhaps she never came wholly to understand him; but in her complete love for him she found

enough. He loved her with his whole man's power. She had listened to him tell her in words of transport, "I

could enjoy dying"; yet she loved him more than that. He had come to her from a smoking pistol, able to bid

her farewelland she could not let him go. At the last whitehot edge of ordeal, it was she who renounced,

and he who had his way. Nevertheless she found much more than enough, in spite of the sigh that now and

again breathed through her happiness when she would watch him with eyes fuller of love than of

They could not speak of that grim wedding eve for a long while after; but the mountains brought them

together upon all else in the world and their own lives. At the end they loved each other doubly more than at

the beginning, because of these added confidences which they exchanged and shared. It was a new bliss to

her to know a man's talk and thoughts, to be given so much of him; and to him it was a bliss still greater to

melt from that reserve his lonely life had bred in him. He never would have guessed so much had been stored

away in him, unexpressed till now. They did not want to go to Vermont and leave these mountains, but the

day came when they had to turn their backs upon their dream. So they came out into the plains once more,

well established in their familiarity, with only the journey still lying between themselves and Bennington.

"I have made one discovery," she said. "You are fonder of good clothes than I am."

He grinned. "I cert'nly like 'em. But don't tell my friends. They would say it was marriage. When you see

what I have got for Bennington's special benefit, youwhy, you'll just trust your husband more than ever."

She undoubtedly did. After he had put on one particular suit, she arose and kissed him where he stood in it.

"Bennington will be sorrowful," he said. "No wildwest show, after all. And no readymade guy, either."

"How did you choose that?" she asked. "How did you know that homespun was exactly the thing for you?"

"Why, I have been noticing. I used to despise an Eastern man because his clothes were not Western. I was

very young then, or maybe not so very young, as veryas what you saw I was when you first came to Bear

Creek. A Western man is a good thing. And he generally knows that. But he has a heap to learn. And he

generally don't know that. So I took to watching the Judge's Eastern visitors. There was that Mr. Ogden

especially, from New Yawkthe gentleman that was there the time when I had to sit up all night with the

missionary, yu' know. His clothes pleased me best of all. Fit him so well, and nothing flash. I got my ideas,

and when I knew I was going to marry you, I sent my measure Eastand I and the tailor are old enemies

Bennington probably was disappointed. To see get out of the train merely a tall man with a usual straw hat,

and Scotch homespun suit of a rather better cut than most in Benningtonthis was dull. And his

Mrs. Flynt took her revenge by sowing broadcast her thankfulness that poor Sam Bannett had been Molly's

rejected suitor. He had done so much better for himself. Sam had married a rich Miss Van Scootzer, of the

second families of Troy; and with their combined riches this happy couple still inhabit the most expensive

But most of Bennington soon began to say that Molly s cowboy could be invited anywhere and hold his

own. The time came when they ceased to speak of him as a cowboy, and declared that she had shown

Did this bride and groom enjoy their visit to her family? Wellwell, they did their best. Everybody did their

best, even Sarah Bell. She said that she found nothing to object to in the Virginian; she told Molly so. Her

husband Sam did better than that. He told Molly he considered that she was in luck. And poor Mrs. Wood,

sitting on the sofa, conversed scrupulously and timidly with her novel soninlaw, and said to Molly that she

was astonished to find him so gentle. And he was undoubtedly finelooking; yes, very handsome. She

believed that she would grow to like the Southern accent. Oh, yes! Everybody did their best; and, dear reader,

if ever it has been your earthly portion to live with a number of people who were all doing their best, you do

Their first arrival, the one at Bennington, had been thus: Sam Bell had met them at the train, and Mrs. Wood,

waiting in her parlor, had embraced her daughter and received her soninlaw. Among them they had

managed to make the occasion as completely mournful as any family party can be, with the window blinds

up. "And with you present, my dear," said Sam Bell to Sarah, "the absence of a coffin was not felt."

But at Dunbarton the affair went off differently. The heart of the ancient lady had taught her better things.

From Bennington to Dunbarton is the good part of a day's journey, and they drove up to the gate in the

afternoon. The greataunt was in her garden, picking some August flowers, and she called as the carriage

At this, Molly, stepping out of the carriage, squeezed her husband's hand. "I knew that she would be lovely,"

she whispered to him. And then she ran to her aunt's arms, and let him follow. He came slowly, hat in hand.

The old lady advanced to meet him, trembling a little, and holding out her hand to him. "Welcome, nephew,"

she said. "What a tall fellow you are, to be sure. Stand off, sir, and let me look at you."

Then his new relative turned to her niece, and gave her a flower. "Put this in his coat, my dear," she said.

After this the maid came and showed them to their rooms. Left alone in her garden, the greataunt sank on a

Upstairs, Molly, sitting on the Virginian's knee, put the flower in his coat, and then laid her head upon his

"I didn't know old ladies could be that way," he said. "D' yu' reckon there are many?"

Now at tea, and during the evening, the greataunt carried out her plans still further. At first she did the chief

part of the talking herself. Nor did she ask questions about Wyoming too soon. She reached that in her own

way, and found out the one thing that she desired to know. It was through General Stark that she led up to it.

"There he is," she said, showing the family portrait. "And a rough time he must have had of it now and then.

New Hampshire was full of fine young men in those days. But nowadays most of them have gone away to

"That's having its day, ma'am, right now. And we are getting ready for the changesome of us are.

"When the natural pasture is eaten off," he explained. "I have seen that coming a long while. And if the

thieves are going to make us drive our stock away, we'll drive it. If they don't, we'll have big pastures fenced,

and hay and shelter ready for winter. What we'll spend in improvements, we'll more than save in wages. I am

well fixed for the new conditions. And then, when I took up my land, I chose a place where there is coal. It

Thus the old lady learned more of her niece's husband in one evening than the Bennington family had

ascertained during his whole sojourn with them. For by touching upon Wyoming and its future, she roused

him to talk. He found her mind alive to Western questions: irrigation, the Indians, the forests; and so he

expanded, revealing to her his wide observation and his shrewd intelligence. He forgot entirely to be shy. She

sent Molly to bed, and kept him talking for an hour. Then she showed him old things that she was proud of,

"because," she said, "we, too, had something to do with making our country. And now go to Molly, or you'll

"I think" he began, but was not quite equal to expressing what he thought, and suddenly his shyness

"In that case, nephew," said she, "I'm afraid you'll have to kiss me good night."

And so she dismissed him to his wife, and to happiness greater than either of them had known since they had

left the mountains and come to the East. "He'll do," she said to herself, nodding.

Their visit to Dunbarton was all happiness and reparation for the doleful days at Bennington The old lady

gave much comfort and advice to her niece in private, and when they came to leave, she stood at the front

"God bless you, my dears," she told them. "And when you come next time, I'll have the nursery ready."

And so it happened that before she left this world, the greataunt was able to hold in her arms the first of

Judge Henry at Sunk Creek had his wedding present ready. His growing affairs in Wyoming needed his

presence in many places distant from his ranch, and he made the Virginian his partner. When the thieves

prevailed at length, as they did, forcing cattle owners to leave the country or be ruined, the Virginian had

forestalled this crash. The herds were driven away to Montana. Then, in 1889, came the cattle war, when,

after putting their men in office, and coming to own some of the newspapers, the thieves brought ruin on

But the railroad came, and built a branch to that land of the Virginian's where the coal was. By that time he

was an important man, with a strong grip on many various enterprises, and able to give his wife all and more

Sometimes she missed the Bear Creek days, when she and he had ridden together, and sometimes she

declared that his work would kill him. But it does not seem to have done so. Their eldest boy rides the horse

Monte; and, strictly between ourselves, I think his father is going to live a long while.