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Updated: May 31, 2025
The credit was Bud's. He knew it. And, with frank honesty, was only too ready to admit it, and even advertise it. Elvine nodded. Her dark eyes were warmly returning his smile. "I like that," she said simply. And she meant it. The blood mounted to the man's brow. He felt that he had forced her to make the admission, and regarded his act with some shame.
He's right here to your hand, and as tame as a lap-dog. To-morrow he's off again to the ranch, and that girl of his partner's will have him to herself for a year. Why, you're crazy to let him go. Four years you've lived here since since " "I wish you'd stop worrying, Momma and," the girl added with unconcealed resentment, "get on with your knitting." Elvine had risen to her feet.
Elvine saw it, and knew these things were so, and, in her loneliness of heart, in her brokenness of spirit, she welcomed the chance of leaning for support upon a soul so obviously strong and sympathetic. She yielded now as she would never have believed it possible to yield. Suddenly she raised her hands to her head and pressed her fingers to her temples. "Oh, I I don't know what to do.
These folk don't reckon to show themselves in daytime, and I guess they were traveling from the direction of Spruce Crossing." "That's where the man Sikkem's stationed," said Elvine. "Sure. But I don't guess they been near his shanty. They wouldn't fancy gettin' around Sikkem's lay-out in daytime. You see, he's sudden." Nan's confidence was not without its effect. But Elvine was less sure.
He accepted the tide of life as he found it, and only on his journey, swimming down its many currents, he endeavored by skilful pilotship to avoid the shoals, and seek the beneficent backwaters so that his muscles and courage might be strengthened for the completion of the task he had still before him. Elvine van Blooren had held the right torch at their first meeting during the Cattle Week.
There's some one, somewhere, who's lower down than the worst cattle rustler ever lived." There was no response as the man ceased speaking. Elvine had not stirred from her place at the window. The moments passed. Swift, poignant moments, in which two people were enduring an agony of recollection. The man's relentless expression never changed. His eyes were gazing straight ahead.
Besides, it saved her any qualms she might otherwise have had in pursuing her own way under the shelter of her mother's roof. "I really can't see what you've to complain of, Momma," Elvine laughed, without any display of mirth. "I guess if you wanted to marry a man you'd leave him about as much chance as he'd have with a wildcat." Then her smile died out.
I hain't reely. I wouldn't 'a' sed a word if I'd tho't " "Don't you worry, boy," Elvine cried, as she turned her horse about. "I wouldn't give you away. I wouldn't give anybody away now. You see, you never know how things of that sort can come back on you."
A week which, for at least three people, was fraught with something in the nature of epoch-making events. All that the simple heart of Nan Tristram had looked forward to, yearned for, had been denied her from the first moment she had beheld that unmistakable lightening up of Jeff's eyes on his meeting with Elvine van Blooren. It had been a revelation of dread.
She was still facing the hills when a horseman emerged from a narrow pathway which split up converging bluffs. He was riding at a great pace, and was heading straight for the bank of the river where she had paused. Elvine remained where she was. She made no effort either to proceed or retreat. Somehow curiosity had caught her up and left her with no other emotion.
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