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"'Not to-night, Rush, says Marilla, in a way that she had when she wanted to settle things. "But it seems that Uncle Cal was plenty sick, after all. He got so bad that Ben saddled up and rode over to Birdstail for Doc Simpson. I stayed around to see if I'd be needed for anything.
"Since then ye've jest kinderly pitied me, I reckon ... an' been plum charitable.... I've got ter know.... War ye mad at me when ye pondered hit in ther daylight ... stid of ther moonshine?" The girl's pale face flushed to a laurel-blossom pink and her voice was a ghost whisper. "I hain't nuver been mad with ye, Cal."
"I've been noticing him work. Look!" Calico had braced himself as the slick was roped, shoving his hind feet out ahead, squatting on his haunches and raising his forefeet almost clear of the ground. "Cal broke him without shoes in front," Evans explained. "His feet got tender after he'd jerked a steer or two and he learned to sock his hind feet ahead and take the jar on them.
"It is hard on Cal," agreed Cal's father. "Though perhaps just a trifle harder," ventured Wayne, "on the girl who did." "Well, what did she do it for?" he demanded. "Come now, Captain, you can't make out much of a case for her. Mrs. Leonard's word is just right trivial. She said she was tired of things. Tired tired tired of things, she put it. Tired of walking down the same street.
Bob peeped over his paper and saw the dark-eyed man spring from his seat and hurry across the aisle where a large, fat, jovial-looking individual was puffing contentedly on a cigarette. "Cal Blosser!" boomed the big man in a voice heard over the car. "Well, well, if this isn't like old times! Glad to see you, glad to see you. What's that? Jack Fluss with you?
Doubt conviction doubt again exultation hope, amazement, belief, unbelief every emotion imaginable swept in wild procession through my heart and brain, and I could not speak a word. After a moment or two of this mental fury, I shook myself to rights, and said: "Say it again!" "It's blind lead!" "Cal, let's let's burn the house or kill somebody! Let's get out where there's room to hurrah!
The chill atmosphere of Flying U coulee, with strangers in the bunk-house and with the Old Man scowling at his paper on the porch, had left its effect upon Weary, sunny-souled as he was. "Oh, he'll come through," cried Cal, moving toward his horse, "gee whiz, he's got to! Come on let's go and get it done with.
"I'm alive, and it's spring. I danced in the big room this morning, Colonel Cal! Isn't it enough, just to be alive?" Thus she evaded that question, which she had so long shunned as impossible of answer. "Yes, it's enough, Miss Lady," said the old planter, gravely. "It's enough for you. But now, we men who are your friends have got to take care of you. We've got to do the thinking.
"Will you see that she comes directly up to me?" And once more, from the landing, she spoke over her shoulder: "You said that she treated him like a dog, Cal," she managed to keep her features grave, "and being a woman I can understand exactly why that is so. The joy of a breathless pursuit, it is often said, is the only choice left for the female.
Chalmers, and the entire slate so carefully prepared by Bobby in conjunction with the shrewd old fox, Cal Lewis, won by a majority so overwhelming as to be almost unanimous. Immediately upon Chalmers' election heads began to drop, and the first to go was Cooley, chief of police, in whom, four years later, Bobby recognized the driver of his ice wagon.
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