guessed that much. All Nesta said was you tracked her to Rock Pool. She gave me just one mysterious look an’ she held her chin up, in the way she has that makes you want to slap her pretty face. She didn’t need to tell me any more. You were her good friend if I wasn’t. You would back her against me or anybody. Then I reckoned you had double-crossed me.”
“Rich, you don’t believe that now?”
“I shore do. I know it. You crawled like a yellow dawg. You’re like mother. Just cain’t bear Nesta bein’ angry with you. Anythin’ but losin’ her. It’s always been that way. I’m the only one who has ever opposed her.”
“Wal, wal! I wonder,” rejoined Tanner, helplessly. “Rich, you’re only a lad. Only eighteen, an’ Nesta is heaps older. You may be wrong. Your mother seems wise about girls.”
“Mother makes me furious,” flashed Rich, heatedly. “She cain’t do a damn thing with Nesta. She likes to have the girl spoiled by men. She even gets somethin’ out of Lee Tate’s case on Nesta. Lee Tate! Who comes of the Tates that made away with father! . . . In her day mother was a flirt. I’ve heard father say so—an’ he didn’t mean to be funny, either.”
“But Nesta isn’t a flirt,” declared Cappy.
“No, I cain’t say that. At least not in a raw sense like Lil Snell an’ some more of these Tonto females. I reckon I know Nesta better than anyone, even our own mother. Nesta is half me. . . . An’ I’m tellin’ you, Cap, that if harm hasn’t already come to her through this Lee Tate-Lil Snell mixup it will come now, shore as Gawd made little apples.”
“Ahuh.—This Lil Snell used to be a bold one, didn’t she?”
“Ha! Used to be? She is yet, when the chance offers. Lil was one of Lee Tate’s girls an’ they were thick. I know. Well, she was always jealous of Nesta. Liked her, shore, because nobody can help that. But underneath all this late friendship between Nesta an’ Lil is somethin’ deeper. I felt it the first time I ever saw Nesta an’ Lil together. Lil has been playin’ Lee Tate’s game. That’s all. No one can tell me. An’ I’ve just had hell with Nesta an’ mother.”
“Son, if you’re figgerin’ correct, it’s too late,” replied Tanner, grimly, as he looked straight into the troubled eyes of Ames.
“Then I hope to Gawd I’m wrong,” burst out Rich. “But right or wrong, I’m goin’ to break up this case between Nesta an’ Tate. One way or another! Before he took after Nesta she was the sweetest, gayest, happiest girl in the world. She loved Sam an’ was contented at the prospect of helpin’ him with his homestead. But Tate flattered her, excited her, upset her—an’ I don’t know what else. Nesta used to like pretty clothes, but she wasn’t crazy over them. She could bake an’ sew—why, she was most as good a worker as mother. Lately she’s idle. She moons around. She has somethin’ on her mind. . . . Now, Cap, you can look me square in the eye an’ declare yourself.”
“Wal, son, you’re callin’ my hand,” replied the old trapper, not without dignity. “I’m bound to admit you’ve got this situation figgered. I didn’t have. An’ if your mother did, she either ain’t carin’ much or else she sees it’s no use. Mebbe she knows more of life than both of us together. I’m mighty fond of Nesta. I couldn’t be more so if she was my own. But now you put it up to me, I’d sacrifice her love for me to do her good. Reckon thet’s what you mean an’ what you’ll have to do. If we lose her we’ll still have Mescal an’ Manzi. . . . I agree. We’ve got to break Tate’s hold on Nesta. One way or another. I reckon the best way would be to marry her to Playford. Onless she doesn’t care for him any more.”
“She does. An’ that’s shore my first plan.”
“How about Playford? Nesta said he was fine. Never nagged her. But will he stand any more?”
“Sam is true as steel. Yesterday we talked aboot it. An’ he said: ‘Rich, if you cain’t bust up this moonshine of Tate’s, I’ll have to. Nesta will never marry me then, even if I came out of it free. But it’s got to be done.’ . . . An’ I swore I’d do it.”
“Wal, let Nesta have her fling for this weddin’. Watch her close, without her knowin’. Then the three of us will go after her, one at a time, or all together, an’ persuade her to marry Sam. . . . But, Ames, she told me she just had to break off with Sam, only she couldn’t.”
“Did she say that?” queried Rich, in consternation. “Lord! but we’re up against a tough knot! If she still cares for Sam, an’ she swears she does—why must she break it off?”
Tanner shook his grizzled head. He did not have the courage to voice his fears. When had he ever seen agony and terror in the lad’s once fearless blue eyes? It struck the old trapper that Rich Ames had been forced into manhood.
“Cap, she’s ashamed of somethin’,” went on Ames, hoarsely.
“Reckon she is. But if she still loves Sam an’ he’ll stand for—for anythin’—why, it’ll all come out. All’s well thet ends well.”
“Damn you, Tanner!” bit out Ames, his lips suddenly drawn. “You know more’n you’ll tell.” Then he covered his face with his hands and sobbed: “Nesta!—Nesta!—Oh, little—sister!”
This was an ordeal for Tanner. He cursed.
“Hyar! what the hell kind of talk an’ goin’s-on is this?” he demanded, struck to the heart by Rich’s grief. “Nesta ain’t no little sister. She’s a big one. A grown woman, hot-headed an’ provokin’ the more for thet. Her beauty an’ sweetness only make her wuss. . . . Women hurt men. You can lay to thet. We’ll save her an’ I reckon she’ll turn out good as gold. But for Gawd’s sake get over the idee she’s still a baby.”
Rich Ames uncovered his face, now haggard and wet, and stood unashamed, as if not conscious of his weakness.
“Thanks, Cap. I reckon you hit the nail on the haid,” he declared, and with a strange smile and violent wrestle he seemed to recover his equanimity. “Sam an’ I are ridin’ in to Shelby today. Shall I saddle a horse for you?”
“Might as well. I hate ridin’, but I reckon I won’t have to keep up with you young bucks.”
“Sam will be heah by now. So come along,” said Ames, turning on his heel.
“I’ll be there pronto,” replied Cappy, watching the lithe figure glide away down the trail. Suddenly he had a queer premonition or a wondering thought that he would never again see Rich Ames like that.
Cappy hurried to change his soiled garb for the best he owned, and sallied forth to meet the boys. They were waiting with the horses under the spruces, talking earnestly. Cappy saw Rich make a gesture of fierce repudiation, as if he were thrusting back the thing that opposed him.
“Mother an’ the kids have gone,” announced Rich, when Cappy joined them. “They rode up to Lows’, who’re goin’ to town in their wagon.”
“Howdy, Cap! You’re all spruced up,” said Playford.
“Wal, I don’t see as you boys are wearin’ your wust. . . . Ride along now, an’ never mind about me.”
It took a few moments for Tanner to adjust the stirrups for his short legs, during which
