I’m goin’ to ride her, an’ don’t want no fool broncho-buster tearing her mouth out.”
“Right-ho, boss.” Jim was smiling happily at the man’s broad back as he stood facing out of the door. “But, if you’ve half a minute, I’ve got something else to get through me.”
“Eh?” McLagan turned. His Irish face was alight with sudden interest. “Guess I ain’t busy fer ten minutes.”
“That’s more than enough,” said Jim, readily. “It’s about that land I was speaking to you of the other day. I told you those things about myself––because of that. As I said, you didn’t know much of me, except my work for you.”
McLagan nodded, and chewed the end of his cigar. His keen eyes were studying the other’s face. At last he removed his cigar, and spat out a bit of tobacco leaf.
“I know all I need to,” he said cordially. “The proposition was one hundred and sixty acres for a homestead, with grazin’ rights. You want a lease. Gettin’ married?”
“It might happen that way,” grinned the foreman somewhat sheepishly.
“Found the leddy?”
Jim nodded.
“Marryin’s a fool game anyway.”
“That’s as maybe.”
McLagan shrugged.
“Guess I don’t want wimmin-folk in mine. You’re goin’ to hold your job?”
15
“Sure. You see, boss–––” Jim began to explain.
But McLagan broke in.
“You can have it for rent, boy,” he said. “It suits me, if you don’t mean quittin’.”
“I don’t mean quitting,” said Jim. “I’m going to run it with a hired man. Y’see I’ve got one hundred and fifty stock and a bit saved for building. When I get married my wife’ll see to things some. See the work is done while I’m here.”
McLagan grinned and nodded.
“Guess you didn’t seem like gettin’ married jest now, talkin’ of those things. You kind o’ seemed ‘down’ some.”
Jim’s eyes became thoughtful.
“Makes you feel ‘down’ when you get remembering some things,” he said. “Y’see it makes you wonder what the future feels like doing in the way of kicks. Things are going good about now, and––and I want ’em to keep on going good.”
McLagan laughed boisterously.
“You’ve sure jest got to play hard to-day, let the future worry fer itself. Well, so long. I’ll hand you the papers when you’ve selected the ground, boy. An’ don’t forget the black mare.”
He left the hut and Jim watched him stumping busily away across to the big barn where the saddle horses were kept. His eyes were smiling as he looked after him. He liked Dan McLagan. His volcanic temper; his immoderate manner of expression suggested an open enough disposition, and he liked men to be like that.
But his smile was at the thought that somehow he had managed to make his “boss” think that extreme caution 16 was one of his characteristics. Yes, it made him smile. If such had been the case many things in the past, many disasters might have been averted.
As a matter of fact he had been thinking of the woman he hoped to make his wife. He was wondering if he had a reasonable prospect of helping her to all the comfort in life she deserved. He took an ultra serious view of matrimonial responsibilities. Eve must have a good, ample home. She must have nothing to worry, none of little petty economies to study which make life so burdensome. Yes, they must start with that, and then, with luck, their stock would grow, he would buy more land, and finally she would be able to hold her place with the wives of all the richest ranchers in the district. That was what he wanted for her when they were married.
When they were married. Suddenly he laughed. He had not asked her yet. Still––– His eyes grew gloomy. His thoughts turned to another man, his cousin, Will Henderson. He knew that Will liked Eve Marsham. It was the one cloud upon his horizon. Will was younger than he by a good deal. He was handsome, too. Eve liked him. Yes, she liked him, he was sure. But somehow he did not associate marriage with Will. Well,––it was no good seeking trouble.
He pushed his thoughts aside and stood up. But the cloud upon his dark face was not so easily got rid of. How could it be? for Eve Marsham meant the whole world to him.
He moved toward the door, and as he looked out at the sunlit yards he started. A horseman had just come into view round the corner of one of the barns. But though 17 his smile was lacking when the man came up and drew rein at his door, there was no mistaking the kindly cordiality of his greeting as he held out his hand.
“Why, Will,” he cried, “I’m real glad you’ve come along.”
18
CHAPTER II
A SHOOTING MATCH
In silence the two men sat smoking. Will Henderson, half sitting, half lying on the stretcher-bed, gazed out through the doorway at the distant mountain peaks. His hands were clasped behind his head, and a sullen, preoccupied look was in his eyes. Jim Thorpe was sitting, frog-fashion, on an upturned soap-box, watching him. His eyes were a shade anxious, but full of good feeling.
Jim was nine years his cousin’s senior, and Will was twenty-four. They were really almost foster-brothers, for from the younger man’s earliest days he had lived with Jim, in the care of the latter’s widowed mother. He was an orphan, both his parents having died before he was two years old, and so it was that he had been adopted by Jim’s mother, the child’s only living relative. For years Jim had lavished on him an elder brother’s affection and care. And when his own mother died, and he was left to his own resources, it still made no difference. Will must share in everything. Will’s education must be completed adequately, for that was Jim’s nature. His duty and inclination lay straight ahead of him, and he carried both out to the end. Perhaps he did more. Perhaps he overindulged and spoiled the youngster of whom he was so fond. Anyway, as in many similar cases, Will accepted all as his right, and gave very little in return. He was selfish, passionate, and his temper was not always a nice one.
19
In appearance there was a striking resemblance between these two. Not in face, but in figure, in coloring, in general style. A back view of them was identical. In face they differed enormously. They were both extremely handsome, but of utterly different types. Jim was classically regular of feature, while Will possessed all the irregularity and brightness of his Hibernian ancestry. Both were dark; dark hair, dark eyes, dark eyebrows. In fact, so alike were they in general appearance that, in their New York
