The Argosy, March 27, 1920 — page 93: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE TRAIL HORDE, 243 ‘Why, daddy—why did you do it? Oh, you have made it so hard for me!” “There, there, honey,” he consoled, reaching out and patting her shoulders again. ‘I’ve been a heap ornery, but it ain’t goin’ to happen again.’ His eyes shone through a mist that had come into them. “ Dve been talkin’ with Kane Lawler, an’ he opened my eyes. I’ve been blind, Ruth— blind to what it all meant to you. An’ from now on |’m goin’ straight—straight as a die! “ Ruth,” he went on, when he saw in- credulity in her gaze; ‘‘ I wasn't to tell you, T reckon Lawler would half kill me if he knowed I was tellin’ you. But there ain’t no use, I’ve got—” * Did you give your word to Lawler, daddy?” “T sure did. But I’ve got to tell you, Ruth. Mebbe you knowin’ will sort of help me to go through with it. “ Kane Lawler was here this mornin'— he come here to see me about a Circle L cow that I was runnin’ my brand on the night before. He talked mighty plain to me—an’ earnest. He offered me a job over to the Circle L, an’ I took it. “T rode over there this afternoon, an’ Lawler’s straw-boss put me to work. Then to-night Lawler rode in an’ took me out by the corral, He gave it to me straight there. He’s goin’ to restock my place an’ give me a chance to get on my feet. He's goin’ to put his shoulder behind me, he says, an’ make me run a straight trail— takin’ a mortgage on the place to secure him. “He give me a letter to his mother, sayin’ I was to hase what stock I wanted. An’ I’m to repay him when I get around to it. Honey, I’ve got a chance, an’ I’m never goin’ to slip again!” Ruth walked to the door and threw it open, standing on the threshold and gazing out into the dull moonlight, across the vast sweep of plain from which came the low moaning of the night wind, laden with mys- tery. For a long time, as she stood there, pride fought a savage battle with duty. Her face was pallid, her lips tight-clenched, and shame unutterable gripped her. To be sure, Lawler had enjoined her father to si- lence, and it was evident that she was not to know, Stil, she did know; and Lawler had added an obligation, a debt, to the already high barrier that was between them, Yet she dared not evade the obligation, for that would be robbing her father of a chance over which he seemed to exult, a chance which promised his redemption— for which ske had prayed, Her heart was like lead within her—a dull weight that threatened to drag her down. And yet it throbbed with gratitude, with hope and with thankfulness, For if her father really meant to try—if he should succeed in redeeming himself in Lawler’s eyes and in her own, she might one day be able to go to Lawler with no shame in her heart, with the comforting assurance that her father had earned the right to hold his head up among men. To be sure, there would always be the shadow of the past mistake lurking behind; but it would be the shadow of a mistake corrected, of a black gulf bridged. Her father was waiting when she finally turned to him—waiting, his chin on his chest, his face crimson with shame. “ Ruth, girl—you ain't goin’ to judge me too harsh, are you?” he begged. Again she could not resist the pathetic appeal in his eyes. She ran to him again, holding him tightly to her. A cool gust swept in through the open doorway—the night wind, laden with mystery, But the girl laughed, and snuggled closer to the man; and the man laughed hoarsely, vi- brantly, in a voice that threatened to break, CHAPTER NIil. KINNEY’S CANON. A? the close of the second day the big trail herd halted at the edge of the vast level over which it had come. The herd had been driven forty miles. Cattle, men, and horses had passed through a country which was familiar to them; a country fea- tured by long grama-grass, greasewood, aind cactus plants. There was no timber on the level. The comnliclooolks.comn a1 are St