The Man of the Forest by Zane Grey (fastest ebook reader .TXT) đ
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a girl she was!â
Dale felt his face grow red. Indeed, this was strange
conversation for him.
âHonest, Al ââ he began.
âSon, donât lie to an old man.â
âLie! I wouldnât lie to any one. Al, itâs only men who live
in towns anâ are always makinâ deals. I live in the forest,
where thereâs nothinâ to make me lie.â
âWal, no offense meant, Iâm sure,â responded Auchincloss.
âAnâ mebbe thereâs somethinâ in what you say ⊠We was
talkinâ about them sheep your big cat killed. Wal, Milt, I
canât prove it, thatâs sure. Anâ mebbe youâll think me
doddery when I tell you my reason. It wasnât what them
greaser herders said about seeinâ a cougar in the herd.â
âWhat was it, then?â queried Dale, much interested.
âWal, thet day a year ago I seen your pet. He was lyinâ in
front of the store anâ you was inside tradinâ, fer supplies,
I reckon. It was like meetinâ an enemy face to face.
Because, damn me if I didnât know that cougar was guilty
when he looked in my eyes! There!â
The old rancher expected to be laughed at. But Dale was
grave.
âAl, I know how you felt,â he replied, as if they were
discussing an action of a human being. âSure Iâd hate to
doubt old Tom. But heâs a cougar. Anâ the ways of animals
are strange ⊠Anyway, Al, Iâll make good the loss of
your sheep.â
âNo, you wonât,â rejoined Auchincloss, quickly. âWeâll call
it off. Iâm takinâ it square of you to make the offer.
Thetâs enough. So forget your worry about work, if you had
any.â
âThereâs somethinâ else, Al, I wanted to say,â began Dale,
with hesitation. âAnâ itâs about Beasley.â
Auchincloss started violently, and a flame of red shot into
his face. Then he raised a big hand that shook. Dale saw in
a flash how the old manâs nerves had gone.
âDonât mention â thet â thet greaser â to me!â burst out
the rancher. âIt makes me see â red⊠. Dale, I ainât
overlookinâ that you spoke up fer me to-day â stood fer my
side. Lem Harden told me. I was glad. Anâ thetâs why â
to-day â I forgot our old quarrel⊠. But not a word
about thet sheep-thief â or Iâll drive you off the place!â
âBut, Al â be reasonable,â remonstrated Dale. âItâs
necessary thet I speak of â of Beasley.â
âIt ainât. Not to me. I wonât listen.â
âReckon youâll have to, Al,â returned Dale. âBeasleyâs after
your property. Heâs made a deal ââ
âBy Heaven! I know that!â shouted Auchincloss, tottering up,
with his face now black-red. âDo you think thetâs new to me?
Shut up, Dale! I canât stand it.â
âBut Al â thereâs worse,â went on Dale, hurriedly. âWorse!
Your lifeâs threatened â anâ your niece, Helen â sheâs to
be ââ
âShut up â anâ clear out!â roared Auchincloss, waving his
huge fists.
He seemed on the verge of a collapse as, shaking all over,
he backed into the door. A few seconds of rage had
transformed him into a pitiful old man.
âBut, Al â Iâm your friend ââ began Dale, appealingly.
âFriend, hey?â returned the rancher, with grim, bitter
passion. âThen youâre the only one⊠. Milt Dale, Iâm
rich anâ Iâm a dyinâ man. I trust nobody ⊠But, you wild
hunter â if youâre my friend â prove it! ⊠Go kill
thet greaser sheep-thief! DO somethinâ â anâ then come talk
to me!â
With that he lurched, half falling, into the house, and
slammed the door.
Dale stood there for a blank moment, and then, taking up his
rifle, he strode away.
Toward sunset Dale located the camp of his four Mormon
friends, and reached it in time for supper.
John, Roy, Joe, and Hal Beeman were sons of a pioneer Mormon
who had settled the little community of Snowdrop. They were
young men in years, but hard labor and hard life in the open
had made them look matured. Only a yearâs difference in age
stood between John and Roy, and between Roy and Joe, and
likewise Joe and Hal. When it came to appearance they were
difficult to distinguish from one another. Horsemen,
sheep-herders, cattle-raisers, hunters â they all possessed
long, wiry, powerful frames, lean, bronzed, still faces, and
the quiet, keen eyes of men used to the open.
Their camp was situated beside a spring in a cove surrounded
by aspens, some three miles from Pine; and, though working
for Beasley, near the village, they had ridden to and fro
from camp, after the habit of seclusion peculiar to their
kind.
Dale and the brothers had much in common, and a warm regard
had sprang up. But their exchange of confidences had wholly
concerned things pertaining to the forest. Dale ate supper
with them, and talked as usual when he met them, without
giving any hint of the purpose forming in his mind. After
the meal he helped Joe round up the horses, hobble them for
the night, and drive them into a grassy glade among the
pines. Later, when the shadows stole through the forest on
the cool wind, and the campfire glowed comfortably, Dale
broached the subject that possessed him.
âAnâ so youâre working for Beasley?â he queried, by way of
starting conversation.
âWe was,â drawled John. âBut to-day, beinâ the end of our
month, we got our pay anâ quit. Beasley sure was sore.â
âWhyâd you knock off?â
John essayed no reply, and his brothers all had that quiet,
suppressed look of knowledge under restraint.
âListen to what I come to tell you, then youâll talk,â went
on Dale. And hurriedly he told of Beasleyâs plot to abduct
Al Auchinclossâs niece and claim the dying manâs property.
When Dale ended, rather breathlessly, the Mormon boys sat
without any show of surprise or feeling. John, the eldest,
took up a stick and slowly poked the red embers of the fire,
making the white sparks fly.
âNow, Milt, whyâd you tell us thet?â he asked, guardedly.
âYouâre the only friends Iâve got,â replied Dale. âIt didnât
seem safe for me to talk down in the village. I thought of
you boys right off. I ainât goinâ to let Snake Anson get
that girl. Anâ I need help, so I come to you.â
âBeasleyâs strong around Pine, anâ old Alâs weakeninâ.
Beasley will git the property, girl or no girl,â said John.
âThings donât always turn out as they look. But no matter
about that. The girl deal is what riled me⊠. Sheâs to
arrive at Magdalena on the sixteenth, anâ take stage for
Snowdrop⊠. Now what to do? If she travels on that stage
Iâll be on it, you bet. But she oughtnât to be in it at all.
⊠Boys, somehow Iâm goinâ to save her. Will you help me?
I reckon Iâve been in some tight corners for you. Sure, this
âs different. But are you my friends? You know now what
Beasley is. Anâ youâre all lost at the hands of Snake
Ansonâs gang. Youâve got fast hosses, eyes for trackinâ, anâ
you can handle a rifle. Youâre the kind of fellows Iâd want
in a tight pinch with a bad gang. Will you stand by me or
see me go alone?â
Then John Beeman, silently, and with pale face, gave Daleâs
hand a powerful grip, and one by one the other brothers rose
to do likewise. Their eyes flashed with hard glint and a
strange bitterness hovered around their thin lips.
âMilt, mebbe we know what Beasley is better ân you,â said
John, at length. âHe ruined my father. Heâs cheated other
Mormons. We boys have proved to ourselves thet he gets the
sheep Ansonâs gang steals⊠. Anâ drives the herds to
Phenix! Our people wonât let us accuse Beasley. So weâve
suffered in silence. My father always said, let some one
else say the first word against Beasley, anâ youâve come to
us!â
Roy Beeman put a hand on Daleâs shoulder. He, perhaps, was
the keenest of the brothers and the one to whom adventure
and peril called most. He had been oftenest with Dale, on
many a long trail, and he was the hardest rider and the most
relentless tracker in all that range country.
âAnâ weâre goinâ with you,â he said, in a strong and rolling
voice.
They resumed their seats before the fire. John threw on more
wood, and with a crackling and sparkling the blaze curled
up, fanned by the wind. As twilight deepened into night the
moan in the pines increased to a roar. A pack of coyotes
commenced to pierce the air in staccato cries.
The five young men conversed long and earnestly,
considering, planning, rejecting ideas advanced by each.
Dale and Roy Beeman suggested most of what became acceptable
to all. Hunters of their type resembled explorers in slow
and deliberate attention to details. What they had to deal
with here was a situation of unlimited possibilities; the
horses and outfit needed; a long detour to reach Magdalena
unobserved; the rescue of a strange girl who would no doubt
be self-willed and determined to ride on the stage â the
rescue forcible, if necessary; the fight and the inevitable
pursuit; the flight into the forest, and the safe delivery
of the girl to Auchincloss.
âThen, Milt, will we go after Beasley?â queried Roy Beeman,
significantly.
Dale was silent and thoughtful.
âSufficient unto the day!â said John. âAnâ fellars, letâs go
to bed.â
They rolled out their tarpaulins, Dale sharing Royâs
blankets, and soon were asleep, while the red embers slowly
faded, and the great roar of wind died down, and the forest
stillness set in.
Helen Rayner had been on the westbound overland train fully
twenty-four hours before she made an alarming discovery.
Accompanied by her sister Bo, a precocious girl of sixteen,
Helen had left St. Joseph with a heart saddened by farewells
to loved ones at home, yet full of thrilling and vivid
anticipations of the strange life in the Far West. All her
people had the pioneer spirit; love of change, action,
adventure, was in her blood. Then duty to a widowed mother
with a large and growing family had called to Helen to
accept this rich uncleâs offer. She had taught school and
also her little brothers and sisters; she had helped along
in other ways. And now, though the tearing up of the roots
of old loved ties was hard, this opportunity was
irresistible in its call. The prayer of her dreams had been
answered. To bring good fortune to her family; to take care
of this beautiful, wild little sister; to leave the yellow,
sordid, humdrum towns for the great, rolling, boundless
open; to live on a wonderful ranch that was some day to be
her own; to have fulfilled a deep, instinctive, and
undeveloped love of horses, cattle, sheep, of desert and
mountain, of trees and brooks and wild flowers â all this
was the sum of her most passionate longings, now in some
marvelous, fairylike way to come true.
A check to her happy anticipations, a blank, sickening dash
of cold water upon her warm and intimate dreams, had been
the discovery that Harve Riggs was on the train. His
presence could mean only one thing â that he had followed
her. Riggs had been the worst of many sore trials back there
in St. Joseph. He had possessed some claim or influence upon
her mother, who
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