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Updated: June 25, 2025
Kitchen's barn was headquarters for the small ranchers from the north and for the Falling Wall men, and McAlpin soon had a trade seeking Belle's place. The cottage itself faced the side street, but a little shop annex opened on Main. In this and in the cottage dining-room Belle served her meals. Very soon, however, she made trouble for McAlpin.
The bird just freed from its cage is timid." "Come! A minute will not matter. I must know about my home people." They walked on together. Then, because her heart was beating fast and the tears lying near, she drew close to her deepest interest by a circuitous way. "Tell me of of Mrs. McAdam and Jerry McAlpin?" "Mrs. McAdam is famous and rich. The White Fish Lodge has a waiting list every summer.
Certain of the less pretentious places in the side streets and overlooking the minor parks may be described as "the sort of thing you find about Russell Square." The Waldorf-Astoria, the Knickerbocker, the McAlpin, or the Astor as "like the Cecil, Savoy, or the Northumberland Avenue Hotels."
De Spain recognized the roan pony, but, aside from that, a glance at the figure of the rider, as she sat with her back to him, was enough to assure him of Nan Morgan. He spurred ahead fast enough to overhear a request she was making of McAlpin to mail a letter for her. She also asked McAlpin, just as de Spain drew up, whether the down stage had passed. McAlpin told her it had.
She got painfully upon her feet and looked about. The fire was but embers, the air was hot and stifling, and then, with the thought of opening a door or window, the grim spectre of the black hours lay warning touch upon her. She shrank back and began again to wait! Of course McAlpin would return and what lay before her when he did?
It was only the second time since he had given him the job that de Spain had called the barn boss "Jim," and McAlpin answered with the rising assurance of one who realizes he is "in" right. "Not so much as a sore hoof in either alley, Mr. de Spain. I try to take care of them, sir." "What are we paying you, Jim?" "Twenty-seven a week, sir; pretty heavy work at that."
The lure of the States has always been in my thought and now it calls near and loud." McAlpin stared helplessly at her, and her beauty, enhanced by her unusual garments, moved him unwholesomely. "What you mean?" he muttered. "Only this: It would be no strange thing did a boy start for the States. A little money, a ticket on a steamer, and pouf! Off the boys and men go to make their lives.
She found McAlpin at the stable door: "I want you to take a message for me to Mr. Laramie," she said, speaking low and collectedly. "Ask him if he will see Kate Doubleday for just two minutes." McAlpin, in all his devious career, had never passed through more or quicker stages of astonishment, confusion, poise and evasion than he did in listening to those words.
But try as he might he found his courage failing, and more and more he dwelt apart and clung to the few Priscilla Glenn, Mary McAdam, and old Jerry McAlpin who regarded him in the light of a priest to whom they might confess freely. Then one of Farwell's dogs died and he was genuinely anxious at the effect this had upon him.
But abating in defeat and with empty pockets, nothing of their confident swagger, Carpy and Sawdy reinforced this time by Lefever McAlpin trailing along as a mourner headed again for the ranch-house after Laramie. They found him on a bench where he could command the front door, whittling and talking idly with Bill Bradley. Laramie was there intent on waylaying Kate, within.
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