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He rode down the street, gun in hand, casting swift glances right and left, ready for any attempt to stop him. There was none. He vanished in the swells of brown grasses, riding at an easy lope, as unhurried as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Tom McHale reached Chakchak, stabled his horse, made a hasty toilet, and attacked a belated supper.
Suppose we adjourn." "I'll go you once," said Wade. "Where do I come in?" Clyde asked. "I'm thirsty, too." "Feng shall produce Chakchak fizzes for both of us." They trooped into the house, thirsty, hungry, and laughing, and Kitty Wade exclaimed at Clyde's dress. "Thank Heaven I didn't go!" she cried. "Mr. Dunne, you should get a commission from her dressmaker." "Oh, this will wash.
He and Clyde sat on the veranda at Chakchak, and they had been discussing the ranch, its owner, and the events that had led up to his absence. "Yes, Uncle Jim, I'm going to marry him." "Well," said the big railway man, "making allowance for your natural partiality, his stock seems to be worth about par. I'll know better when I've had a look at him.
I'm not worrying about my future. Now, let's talk about yours. You were away when I was here last week." "Yes, I was over at Chakchak." "That's Dunne's ranch. Your mother said you were helping him choose some things from a mail-order catalogue." "Furniture, linen, dishes, and a lot of other things." There was no embarrassment in her tone.
It's the means to the end." "Plus the love of human flesh and blood for other flesh and blood. You've got it. I won't keep them at this. Too warm." It was late afternoon when Chakchak came into view. It appeared suddenly as they swung around the corner of a butte, lying below them, the emerald of its fields drenched with the gold of the sloping sun. "My kingdom!" said Casey. "Welcome to it!"
"And I talk United States, Chinook, and some Cree we ought to get along almost anywhere," he laughed. "Let's leave this Europe business open. Now here's a really serious question: When our honeymoon is over what?" "I don't understand." "Where shall we live? I can sell out here, if you like." "But you wouldn't like?" "I'd hate to," he admitted. "I know. So should I. We'll live here, at Chakchak.
And, as he dreamed, a part of boyhood's joy in mere life awoke in him again. Chakchak Ranch came into view. Its cultivated area smaller than that of Talapus, it was nevertheless as scrupulously cared for. The one might have served as model for the other.
But now, Casey, Mrs. Wade is at Chakchak, isn't she?" "Mrs. Wade and Miss Burnaby," Casey replied. "It's all right, Mrs. McCrae." "Sheila needs no chaperon," said her father. "Not with Casey," said her mother. "But there's the gossip, Donald, and the dirty tongues. It's not like the old days." "True enough, maybe," McCrae admitted.
"We'll get the men responsible for it one of these days." "You made a beginning with young McCrae," Casey reminded him. "I don't know what you mean." "Don't you know that Glass tried to arrest him?" "What?" cried Farwell. His surprise was too genuine to be feigned. Thereupon Casey told him what had occurred in the last few hours both at Talapus and Chakchak.
Casey's reply was lost as they turned away. Clyde waited until they were out of sight, and then descended. The morning adventure had given her food for thought. Until then she had been deceived by the smooth current of life at Chakchak. It had seemed an idyllic, carefree existence.
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