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They were together everywhere until the day she went away; they danced and 'sat out' together through the whole of one country-club party; they drove every afternoon; they took long walks, and he was at the Sherwoods' every evening of her last week in town. 'That is a mistake!" "I'm afraid it looks rather bleak for Wetherford," said the widower.
But the dog, leaping from side to side, uttered a short howl and a sharp bark, as if to say: "I can't! I can't!" "He's onto his job," remarked Wetherford. "It beats all how human they do seem sometimes. I've no manner of doubt that dago's booted him all over the place many a time, and yet he seemed horrible sorry about his master's trouble.
In Philadelphia the Rocky Mountain States were synonyms of picturesque lawlessness, the theatre of reckless romance, and Virginia Wetherford, loyal daughter of the West, had defended it; but in the coarse phrase of this lean rancheress was pictured a land of border warfare as ruthless as that which marked the Scotland of Rob Roy.
The door of the ranger's cabin stood open, but all was silent. "He is snatching a half-hour's sleep," she decided. If the guard had carried in his mind the faintest intention of permitting Lize to go to Cavanagh's aid, that intention came to no issue, for with the coming of the third night Wetherford was unconscious and unrecognizable to any one who had known him in the days of "the free range."
As the flame of his fever mounted, Wetherford pleaded for air. The ranger threw open the doors, admitting freely the cool, sweet mountain wind. "He might as well die of a draught as smother," was his thought; and by the use of cold cloths he tried to allay the itching and the pain.
"Who was that young man? he kind of bowed to you," asked the lady from Wetherford, after the journalist had meekly passed; but Abel Pinkham, Esquire, could only tell her that he looked like a young fellow who was sitting in the office the evening that they came to the hotel. The reporter did not seem to these distinguished persons to be a young man of any consequence.
All the same, I don't believe the dog carried any germs of the disease." Wetherford, now that the danger of arrest was over, was disposed to be grimly humorous. "There's no great loss without some small gain. I don't think we'll be troubled by any more visitors not even by sheriffs or doctors. I reckon you and I are in for a couple of months of the quiet life the kind we read about."
"It's a long lane that has no turn," he growled. Redfield resumed, in impersonal heat. "The cow-man was conceived in anarchy and educated in murder. Whatever romantic notions I may have had of the plains twenty-five years ago, they are lost to me now. The free-range stock-owner has no country and no God; nothing but a range that isn't his, and damned bad manners begging pardon, Miss Wetherford.
He smoothed the sleeve of his coat. "It is ten years since I was dressed like a man." "You need not worry about food or shelter for the present," replied Cavanagh, gently. "Grub is not costly here, and house-rent is less than nominal, so make yourself at home and get strong." Wetherford lifted his head. "But I want to do something. I want to redeem myself in some way.
It was hard to relate the Eliza Wetherford of those days with this flabby, limping old woman, and yet her daughter came nearer to loving her at this moment than at any time since her fifth year.
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