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Updated: June 20, 2025
Only the tree-toads, long since silent, knew that a cigarette, carefully shielded in a palm, glowed in the darkness. Two days after this a visitor came to Last's. From far down they saw him coming, in the mid-morning while the work of the house went forward. Paula, bringing a pan of milk from the springhouse spied him first and stopped to satisfy her young eyes with the unwonted appearance of him.
"An' make me false to th' crosses on Jim Last's stone?" she cried. "No not you or anybody else could do that trick! Let go!" The next moment she had whirled out from the flickering shade of the willows and was gone around toward the north there was only the sound of hoofs ringing on the earth.
When the mistress of Last's was sad, so were her people. When the last big corral gate had swung to and the boys turned in to unsaddle, she touched El Rey with a toe and went over among them. "Line up the horses, boys," she said, "I want to see them all together once more. Somethin' came back in me today somethin' I been missing for a long time. I'll be myself again."
Whispers went flying about as usual, and as usual nothing happened. When the news of this came to Last's Holding the mistress sat down at the big desk in the living room, laid her tawny head on her arms and wept. There was in her a new softness, a new feeling of misery as if one had wantonly killed a rollicking puppy before her eyes. Those tears were Old Pete's requiem.
Pretty young Paula from the Pomo Indian settlement far to the north of the Valley under the Rockface felt it and was more silent, cat-like of step than ever. José, always full of laughter at his outside work, was sobered. For this change was not material, but spiritual, and it had to do with Tharon, who was now the mistress of Last's.
His silver head was straight as a level, his ears laid back, his nostrils wide and flaring, red as blood, his big eyes glowed with the wildness of savage flight. The great king was mad with speed! Jim Last's girl was mad also mad with the lust of conquest, of revenge. She rose a little from the stallion's whipping mane, and her blue eyes burned on the man ahead.
Bullard of the Golden Cloud had the grace to come out and look at the little old man who had worked for him so long and faithfully. But that was all. They carried him home to Last's and buried him decently at dawn. Then the Vigilantes again rode out. At their head was Tharon; though both Kenset and Billy tried to dissuade her.
An hour later, when all the Holding was quiet for the night, drifting to early rest after the day's hard work, the Mistress of Last's, booted, dressed in riding clothes, her fair head covered by a sombrero, her daddy's guns at her hips, crept softly to the gate of El Rey's own corral. She went like a thief, crouching, watching, without a sound, and saddled the big stallion in careful softness.
"You're some range man t' make any such a comparison," said Curly with conviction, "there ain't no artificial water-well extent that can hold a candle t' th' real livin' springs of a cattle country, when they're such bubblin', shinin' beauties as th' Springs of Last's." "You're right, Curly," said Tharon quietly from under the light, "there's nothin' like them.
"Buck!" it pealed across the stillness of the crowded room, "Buck! it ain't so! Never in this world, Buck! I ben true to you as your shadow! Before God, it ain't true!" There was a stir throughout the crowd, a breath that was audible. There were many of the Vigilantes there a goodly number, all wondering where Tharon Last was, where Kenset was, where were the riders from Last's.
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