The Ramblin' Kid, Earl Wayland Bowman [mind reading books .TXT] 📗

of the corral in which the Ramblin' Kid had turned Captain Jack and the Gold Dust filly.

"Jumpin' eats!" Bert exclaimed as the cowboys started toward the stable, "didn't the young one show her teeth sudden?"

"Skinny's going to have his hands full if he don't look out," Charley Saunders remarked sagely. "Still that kind ain't as dangerous as the ones that act plumb gentle like the widow has acted so far."

"Any female is treacherous," Chuck observed grimly. "They're just like cinch-binders—you can't tell when they're going to rare up and fall over backwards!"

"I'll bet Ophelia turns out to be a W.C.T.U. or something," Bert predicted solemnly.

"If she does it's all off with the Quarter Circle KT, because Parker and Old Heck are both in love already," Charley said as they rounded the corner of the barn.

Carolyn June gave a gasp of admiration as she stepped up to the circular corral and saw the Gold Dust maverick closely.

"Oh, you beauty! You adorable beauty!" she breathed.

Captain Jack and the filly were near the fence next to the shed. Carolyn June passed in between the low building and the corral to be closer to the horses. The sky was cloudless and a wonderful liquid blue; the sun glistened on the rich, golden, brown sides of the mare and made her coat shine like delicate satin. When Captain Jack and the filly saw Carolyn June they stood for a moment as rigid as though cast in bronze, heads held high, eyes fixed curiously yet without fear on the slender girlish figure.

Captain Jack took a step forward in a half-challenging way. The maverick stood perfectly still.

"You beauty," the girl repeated, "you wonderful golden beauty! You are going to be my horse—I'm going to ride you—just you—"

"You'll get you're neck broke if you do!" a voice, deliberate and of peculiar softness, said behind her.

Carolyn June turned, startled, toward the shed from where the voice had come. She knew, even before she looked, that the speaker was the Ramblin' Kid. Evidently he had just awakened. He had not risen and still lay stretched on the ground, his head resting on the saddle he had used for a pillow. Carolyn June could not help wondering how long he had been lying there studying her back. The thought confused her. In spite of her efforts at self-control a slow flush crept over her cheeks. The Ramblin' Kid saw it and the faintest hint of a smile showed on his lips—or was the suggestion of amusement in the twinkling glance of his eyes? Carolyn June could not tell. The subtlety and queerly humble impudence of it filled her with anger.

While she looked into his eyes Carolyn June appraised the physical appearance of the Ramblin' Kid. Certainly he was not handsome, sprawling there in his rough clothing. She knew his age was somewhere near her own, perhaps he was a year, surely no more than that, older than herself. Yet there was an expression about the face that suggested much experience, a sort of settled maturity and seriousness. His mouth, Carolyn June thought, showed a trace of cruelty—or was it only firmness? The teeth were good. If he stood up her own eyes would have to angle upward a trifle to look into his and if hers were brown the Ramblin' Kid's were positively black—yes, she would say, a brutal, unfathomable black, penetrating and hard. His cheeks were smooth and almost sallow they were so dark, and she could tell there was not an ounce of flesh save tough sinewy muscle on his body. He was fully dressed except for the white weather-beaten Stetson lying beside the saddle and the chaps and spurs kicked off and tossed with the bridle and rope near by on the ground. A dark woolen shirt open at the throat, blue overalls faded and somewhat dingy, black calfskin boots on a pair of feet that could not have been larger than sixes, comprised his attire.

So this was the Ramblin' Kid, Carolyn June thought. Someway she had pictured him a blue-eyed, yellow-haired sort of composite Skinny Rawlins, Chuck, Bert Lilly, Charley Saunders all in one and with the face of a boy in the teens!

He was different. She wondered, and almost laughed at the absurd thought, if he was bow-legged. A glance at the straight limbs stretched in repose on the ground dispelled the doubt.

The suddenness with which the Ramblin' Kid had spoken and the tone he used, Carolyn June thought, was utterly unfair. She felt as if she had been ambushed. How could she know he was sleeping under the shed? Why wasn't he in the bunk-house where he belonged? Her own embarrassment made her cross. She wanted to say "damn!" and stamp her foot or throw something at him, lying there so completely self-possessed! Instead, she looked steadily into the eyes of the Ramblin' Kid. Someway as she looked they seemed not so unkind, more sorrowful they were, on closer scrutiny, than cruel. She started to speak, her cheeks began to burn—

Without a word she turned and walked rapidly toward the house.

As she moved away Carolyn June felt something snap at her knee. She did not stop. Reaching down she gathered the soft folds of the loose gown about her and hurried away from the corral.

"God!" the Ramblin' Kid whispered as he straightened up, "she's built like th' Gold Dust maverick—an' just as game! They was made for each other."

He went to the corral and leaned against the fence, studying the filly thoughtfully, while Captain Jack with a friendly whinny came and nosed at the fingers thrust through the bars. After a time the mare cautiously moved up beside the roan stallion and stretched her own velvety muzzle toward the hand the Ramblin' Kid held out.

"You want to be loved, too, you little devil!" the Ramblin' Kid laughed gently, "—you thought I was mean last night, didn't you?"

For a while he fooled with the horses, then started toward the kitchen. A few steps from where Carolyn June had been standing he glanced down at a broad pink satin elastic band lying on the ground. It had been fastened with a silver butterfly clasp. The clasp was broken. The Ramblin' Kid stooped and picked it up.

"I'll be—!" he chuckled as he fingered, almost reverently, the dainty thing, "it's a—a—darned pretty little jigger!"

Smiling whimsically the Ramblin' Kid slipped his find in his pocket and sought Sing Pete to tease him for a bite of breakfast.

CHAPTER VI YOU'RE A BRUTE

Carolyn June went directly to her room when she reached the house. She wished to investigate the feeling of looseness at her knee. The satin band that belonged there was gone. She felt her cheeks grow hot. Doubtless she had lost it at the corral—the Ramblin' Kid would pick it up! The thought tormented her. Once more she wanted to swear vigorously and with extreme earnestness. Instead she—laughed! It was all so absurd. The strange interest this rough cowboy inspired in her; the confusion she felt when he had spoken to her—no man among all the clever, carefully groomed, ultra-sophisticated suitors she had left in Hartville ever stirred her emotions as had the Ramblin' Kid with a few drawling words and one long look from his black, inscrutable eyes. That look! She had the feeling, someway, that her whole soul was naked before it. She was almost afraid of him. It was silly! She detested him—or—anyway, he needed punishment! No, he wasn't worth it! He was only an ignorant rider of the range—why trouble at all about him?

Quickly changing her dress for a riding suit of khaki—the skirt sensibly divided—and the morning slippers for stout, tan, laced boots, she stepped into the front room. Ophelia was in her own room dressing to go to town. Carolyn June heard voices in the kitchen. Sing Pete's shrill chatter mingled with an occasional slow word from the Ramblin' Kid. Thought of the garter she had lost flashed into her mind. Perhaps the cowboy had not found it. She would run out to the corral and see. Passing quickly out the front way Carolyn June hastened again toward the circular corral. Old Heck and Parker were at the garage getting the car ready for the drive to Eagle Butte; Pedro and Chuck were riding across the valley toward the upper pasture. The other cowboys saddled their horses near the barn.

As she walked, Carolyn June scanned the ground. At the corral she looked carefully where she had been standing. Her search was fruitless. She smiled queerly. Again she glanced at the Gold Dust maverick.

"You darling," she whispered, "I am going to have you—I am—I absolutely am!"

Turning, her eyes rested on the saddle, chaps and riding gear lying in the shed where the Ramblin' Kid had slept. Carolyn June stepped close to the outfit.

"I have a notion to—to spit on you!" she said vehemently, "or kick—" but she didn't finish the sentence. One tan shoe had been drawn back as if to be swung viciously at the inoffensive pile of riding gear; it paused, suspended, then gently, almost caressingly, pushed the leather chaps which suddenly seemed to Carolyn June to look limp and worn and pathetically tired.

As Carolyn June returned to the house Parker drove the car around to the front; Old Heck joined the cowboys, already mounting their bronchos, and with them rode down the lane in the direction of the lower field. Skinny came out of the barn, leading Pie Face and Old Blue. He left the horses standing and at the back-yard gate overtook Carolyn June. As they stepped inside the yard the Ramblin' Kid appeared at the kitchen door.

"There's the Ramblin' Kid now," Skinny said as they approached. "Hello, Kid," he continued, "I see you got the filly—Excuse me, I guess you folks ain't acquainted."

Haltingly he introduced them.

Without the flicker of an eyelid the Ramblin' Kid looked into the eyes of Carolyn June. He had seen her coming from the corral and guessed correctly the reason for her second visit to the enclosure. Indeed at that moment his hand was in his pocket toying with the delicate souvenir for which she had gone to search. Yet his face was utterly without emotion as he lifted his hat and stood aside, acknowledging with formal words the introduction. "It's sure a surprisin' day an' pleasant—" he finished, emphasizing "surprisin'" and "pleasant" till Carolyn June could have sworn there was a veiled taunt in the words he spoke.

She was equally calm. Smiling sweetly and with not a hint of a previous meeting she said: "I think I have heard of the Ramblin' Kid." Pausing a moment: "It's always peaceful after a storm!" she added enigmatically. And the Ramblin' Kid, as Skinny and the girl passed around to the front of the house, knew that Carolyn June had hurled a lance!

"A natural born heart-breaker," he said to himself as he went toward the bunk-house, "a genuine, full-grown vampire, part intentional an' part because it's in her—but she's a pure-bred—" He grew pensive and silent, a look of gentleness came to his face, followed quickly by an expression of extreme humility. "Oh, hell," he exclaimed aloud, "what's th' use!" Entering the building the Ramblin' Kid seated himself at the table at the end of the room. He pulled the pink satin elastic from his pocket and gazed at it, rubbing the soft fabric tenderly with the end of his thumb. His eyes lighted suddenly with anger and contempt. He threw the band violently across the room into a corner. "I wasn't raised to associate with luxuries like that!" he exclaimed with mingled bitterness and scorn, "—a damned ign'rant cow-puncher dreamin' dreams about an angel!" he finished with a harsh laugh. For a while he sat silent, gazing down at the table. Then he got up, went over and lifted the garter from where it had fallen and replaced it in his pocket. "Oh, well," he chuckled less bitterly and whimsically added, "—any idiot can smile at th' mornin' star even if th' darned thing is beyond his reach! Besides, she don't need to ever know—" Leaving the bunk-house he went toward the circular corral.

Parker climbed from the car and entered the house, asking if Ophelia was ready.

"In just a moment!" the widow called from her room.

"What are you and me going to do?" Skinny asked Carolyn June as they stepped on to the porch, "take a ride?"

"On 'Old Blue'?" Carolyn June questioned scornfully, then, with resignation, as they went inside the house: "Oh, well—I suppose, after a while. I have some letters to write now," and she entered her room leaving Skinny standing perplexed