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"It'll save them if they can be got to right off," replied Mrs. Andrews. "Speaking of doctors," went on Columbine, striving to make her query casual, "do you know whether or not Wilson Moore had his foot treated by a doctor at Kremmling?" "He did not," answered Mrs. Andrews. "Wasn't no doctor there. They'd had to send to Denver, an', as Wils couldn't take that trip or wait so long, why, Mrs.
These people were the only neighbors of Belllounds for some ten miles on the road toward Kremmling. Columbine liked Mrs. Andrews and often rode or walked down there for a little visit and a chat with her friend and a romp with the children. Toward the end of September Columbine found herself combating a strong desire to go down to the Andrews ranch and try to learn some news about Wilson Moore.
"What do you mean by that?" he demanded, with a strident note in his voice. "Put that saddle back." "Not much. It's my saddle. Cost sixty dollars at Kremmling last year. Good old hard-earned saddle!... And you can't ride it. Savvy?" "Yes, I savvy," replied Belllounds, violently. "Now you'll savvy what I say. I'll have you discharged." "Nope. Too late," said Moore, with cool, easy scorn.
From the sheriff's lips the story gained much. Old Bill Belllounds had received the news in a singular mood; he offered no encomiums to the victor; contrary to his usual custom of lauding every achievement of labor or endurance, he now seemed almost to regret the affray. Jack Belllounds had returned from Kremmling and he was present when Burley brought news of the rustlers.
Some nights he rode to Kremmling, or said he had been there, when next day the cowboys found another spent and broken horse to turn out. On other nights he coaxed and bullied them into playing poker. They won more of his money than they cared to count.
Belllounds was not seen at his customary tasks on the day he expected his son. He walked in the fields and around the corrals; he often paced up and down the porch, scanning the horizon below, where the road from Kremmling showed white down the valley; and part of the time he stayed indoors.
And I don't want to leave White Slides." "But, lass, you're goin' to be married!" expostulated Belllounds. "Didn't it occur to Jack to take me to Kremmling? I can't make new dresses out of old ones." "Wal, I reckon neither of us thought of thet. But you can buy what you like in Denver." Columbine resigned herself. After all, what did it matter to her?
But Columbine guessed that he had ridden to Kremmling and back in one day, on some order of Jack's. "Miss Collie, I'll tend to Pronto," he offered. "An' yore supper'll be waitin'." A bright fire blazed on the living-room hearth. The rancher was reading by its light. "Hello, rosy-cheeks!" greeted the rancher, with unusual amiability. "Been ridin' ag'in' the wind, hey?
"As you know, Jack has been gone since before New Year's Day. He said he was going to Kremmling. But dad heard he went to Elgeria. Well, I didn't tell you that dad and Jack quarreled over money. Jack kept up his good behavior for so long that I actually believed he'd changed for the better. He kept at me, not so much on the marriage question, but to love him.
"I've been careful to have my business transactions all in writing," said Moore. "It makes these fellows sore, because some of them can't write. And they're not used to it. But I'm starting this game in my own way." "Have you sold any stock?" "Not yet. But the Andrews boys are driving some thirty-odd head to Kremmling for me to be sold." "Ahuh!
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