To the Last Man

ant to be blind or weak. Dreaming and indolence, habits born in her which were often a comfort to one as lonely as she, would ill fit her for the hard test she divined and dreaded. In t

ind her. Many tasks she found, and when these were done for a day she

peared heavy from need of sleep. His horses were always dust and sweat covered. During his absences Ellen fell victim to anxious dread until he returned. Daily he grew darker and more haggard of face, more obsessed by some impending fate. Often he stayed up late, haranguing with the men in the dim-lit cabin, w

chop wood herself. Jorth did not possess a plow. Ellen was bound to confess that the evidence of this lack dumfounded her. Even old John Sprague raised some hay, beets, turnips. Jorth's cattle and horses fared ill during the winter.

never seen any sheep sheared. Ellen could never keep track of the many and different horses running loose and hobbled round the ranch. There were droves of hor

nd she rode from the narrow, maple-thicketed head of it near the Rim down all its length. She found no ranch, no cabin, not even a corral in Bear Canyon. Sprague said there was only one canyon by that name. Daggs had assured her of the exact location on his place, and so had her father. Had they lied? Were they mistaken in the canyon? There were many canyons, all heading up near the Rim, all running and widening down for miles through the wooded mountain, and vastly differ

t her father only asked her to limit her riding to the meadow valley, and straightway forgot all about it. In fact, his abstraction one moment, his intense nervousness the next,

after an absence of two nights. Ellen heard th

me out heah," c

a fine, light, fuzzy beard. He was long, loose jointed, not heavy of build, and he had the largest hands and feet Ellen bad ever seen. Next Ellen espied a bla

of pride. "I made a trade. Reckon I wanted him myself, but h

me in many days. Seldom had she owned

exclaimed, in

on one condition

, as she laid caressing ha

ride him out

isn't he, except that whit

he began unsaddling his own horse. "S

grinned. "I reck

"What a name! ... Well, I guess it'

ridin' him," was her father's parting a

se had been a pet. Ellen cleaned his coat and brushed him and fed him. Then she fitted her bridle to suit his head and saddled him. His evident response to her kindness assured her that he was gentle, so she mounted and rode him, to discover he had the easiest gait she had ever experi

rro Jinny," said Ellen, regretfully

So she waited. Dismounting, she left Spades free to graze on the new green grass that carpeted the ground. The cabin and little level clearing accentuated the loneliness and wildness of the forest. Ellen

approaching horseman, down in the aspens, she failed to recognize him. After he had passed one of the openings she heard his horse stop. Probably the man had seen her; at least she could not otherwise account for his stopping. The glimpse she had of him had given her the impression that he

ation she had ever suffered. It took violence

wift-so swift that her surprise, dismay, conjecture, and anger obstructed her will. The outw

k of recognition. He was not the same. The light, the youth was gone. This, however, did not cause her emotion. Was it not a s

en pine and she instinctively backed against it. How her legs trembled!

', Miss Elle

g, but queried, almost breathles

rcled," h

t do y'u want he

nd piercing. They seemed to search Ellen's very soul. To meet

s half-breed Indian traits and the reputation th

she re

r," he returned, bitterly. But y

el," she retorted. "I'd not

ber, moody intent. The dark

rue, I'm gla

. I've no idea w

ut if she ever admitted it to her consciousness, she must fail in the c

gue live here?

back soon.... Did y

ll you anythin' about

ious will seemed impelled to deceive. What had she to hide from Jean Isbel? And a still, small voice replied that she had to hide the Ellen Jorth who had waited for

," Isbel was sayi

estion of fineness, of consideration in him. She would betray herself-betray what she did not even realiz

, presently, why I came. But it wasn't to see you.... I don't deny I w

ed, coldly. "Shore y

penetrating eyes on her. "I put somethin

ed, with the sam

d you do

ut, of course,

w him

never o

y'u know anythin' about-about people? ... Shore eve

ows and deep forests and white rivers, not in a barren desert where men live dry a

Could y'u fo

I co

th the wrongs all on your si

voice fall. "Your father stole my father's sweetheart-by lies, by

cried Ellen,

" he declar

el, I say

ve been lied to

spirit seemed to fling tru

er loved

know the truth, Ellen Jorth.... All the years of hate have borne their fruit. God Almighty can never save us now. Blood must be spilled. The

he spoke of al

ever know truth from y'u.... I'll never

till holding his bridle reins. The bay h

ver harmed you or any of your people. I met you ... fell in love with you in

re within her breast. "Y'u're an Is

t. I love you. Love at first sight! Jean Isbel and Ellen Jorth! Strange, isn't it? ... It was all so strange. M

d found her defense. In hurting him she could hide her own hurt. "Thin

e of everythi

er. She felt a wild tumult in her heart. All th

ce," she said, mockingly. "And I lau

was sweet, honorable-the best in m

h all the force of her

ferent from what I thought!

yself.... Now, Mister Jean Isb

of dismissal, and she glanced up at him with half-veil

pretty bla

lied Ellen

u like

love

e less work and kinder treatment than if I used

the joy of a horse at sight of a beloved master she saw it then. Isbel laid a hand on the animal's neck and caressed him, then, turning back to Ellen, he went on speaking: "I picked him from a lot of fine horses of my father's. We got al

len, without any evidence of emotion whatever.

sh for your sake it 'd been

echoed, in precis

e misunderstood it. With a hand far from gentle he pus

ven't you sense enough to see that? ... What ki

Game of what

nocence-any old game to fool a

ed her dull, blank question

ther's a horse th

ned by hate, gave no betrayal of the crashing, thundering ruin within her mind and soul. Motionless she leaned there, meeting the piercing fire of Isbel's eyes, seeing in them a righteous and terr

er's in with this Hash Knife Gan

th the cool, easy, carel

Daggs to lead his fact

ho

sheepmen buckin' the ca

reitera

erview. But he seemed fascinated by the strange look of her, by the incomprehensible something she eman

exclaimed, and his other hand swept out in a

him a stinging agony. Her thought flew upon her like whips. Pride of the Jorths! Pride of the old Texan blue blood! It lay dead at her feet, killed by the scornful words of the last of that family to whom she owed her degrada

hadn't told your name," she said, mockingly, and she gaz

shook as with an ague.

w with irresistible power, this fact of the love he could not help. Some fiendish woman's satis

ou lie!" he bur

lers long enough. I was tired of them.... I wanted a

intention until his hard hand smote her mouth. Insta

Have you no shame? ... My sister Ann spoke w

which she almost sank. But one moment longer coul

," she said, impatiently. "I'

shock to him rebounded on her! She gasped as he lunged for her, too swift for her to move a hand. One arm crushed round her like a steel band; the other, hard across her breast and neck, forced her head back. Then she tried to wrestle away. But she was utt

yet-you lie!" he said, low

ble black eyes. Her passionate denial was not only the last of her shameful deceit; it was

ad convinced him. And the insta

omethin'-of you anyway!"

ils of elastic rope. Then with savage rude force his mouth closed on hers. All Ellen's senses reeled, as if she were swooning. She was suffocating. The spasm passed, and a bursting spurt of blood revived her to acute and terrible consciousness. For the end

. Isbel had let go. She saw him throw up his hands, and stagger back a little, all the

y." And suddenly he sank on the log and covered his face with

tching his face, in a blind fury. Isbel made no move to stop her, and her violence spent it

gasped, with hoarse pa

ed Isbel, in bitter scor

l KILL y'u!"

id, pointing to his saddle sheath. "Somebody's got to begin this Jorth-Isbel feud. It'll

ithout its false strength. She began to sag. She stared at Isbel's gun. "Kill him," whispered the retreat

" she whispered, "but

than I am for myself.... You're a girl.... You once had a good mother-a decent home. And this life you've led here-mean

the trail leading up the canyon. How strange a relief Ellen felt! She watched him ride into the aspens and start up the slope, at last to disappear in the pines. It seemed at the moment that he took with him something which had been hers. A pain in her head dul

e the tree, hiding the blue sky and golden sunlight from her eyes. At length the lethargy of despa

sbel's vaunted cunning as a tracker had been no idle boast. Her father was a horse thief, a rustler, a sheepman only as a blind, a consort of Daggs, leader of the Hash Knife Gang. Ellen well remembered th

se thief an' rustl

er her father had been a crooked man. And her mother had known it. He had dragged her to her ruin. That degradation had killed her. Ellen realized that with poignant sorrow, with a sudden revolt against her father. Had Gaston Isbel truly and dishonestly started her father on his downhill road? Ellen wondered. She hated the Isbels with unutterable and growing hate, yet she had it in her to think, to ponder,

me till to-day. I've been honest. I've been good-yes, GOOD, as my mother taught me to be-in spite of all....

er, did not wholly account

ove had been born for her. Shame worse than all other shame was it that she should kill it by a poisoned lie. By what monstrous motive had she done that? To sting Isbel as he had stung her! But that had been base. Never could she have stopped so low except in a moment of tremendous tumult. If she had done sore injury to Isbel what bad she done to herself? How strange, how tenacious had been his faith in her honor! Could she ever forget? She must forget it. But she could never forget the way he had scorned those vile men in Greaves's store-the way he had beaten Bruce for defiling her name-the way he had stubbornly de

f the trail into the open meadow in plain sight of the ranch her appearance creat

a halt. Jorth held a rifle. Daggs, Colter, the other Jorths wer

ed Ellen. "Cain't I run a horse

both incensed

treak right down on us? You're actin' queer the

imes-for the Jorths," rep

. "An' that worried us. Some one's been snoopin' round the ranch. An' w

he could run," returned Ellen. "Reckon when we d

ed Daggs. "It sh

our looks that's queer," declared Jorth

hearing spades called spades,"

of the uselessness of trying to understand a wom

d. And I know

en behind him showed a sud

demande

ied Ellen, coolly. "He came up

'-his-black horse,"

errated as a trac

s, then she began to loosen the cinches of her saddle. Presently Jorth burst

t did I tell yo

irling her around with a stron

'u see

, just as sharply as

u talk

es

he want

s tracking the bla

e to rage. He raised a hand as if to strike Ellen. And suddenly Daggs's long arm shot out to clutch Jorth's wrist. Wrestli

e rustler, with sarcasm. "But y'u're shore s

omposure. But it was evident

n Isbel see thi

how I got Spades

Spades belon

it. Y'u can always tell a h

er to give S

sbel wouldn

.. An'

l, an' he reckoned he'd not be able to care for a fine horse.... I didn't want Spades.

his mustache and eying Ellen with dark, i

fault of mine,"

weet on y'u. H

as only memory which fired this shame. What her father and his crowd might think were ma

n' Lorenzo," went on her

t worthy. "Don't fetch me in. I

" returned Ellen, in low tones. With that she pulled her saddle off S

ten indoors when h

amiliar to Ellen. "I swear I didn't. I bought him-traded with Slater for him.... Honest to God, I never ha

ked incessantly, as if her silence was condemnatory and as if eloquence alone could convince her of his honesty. It seemed that Ellen saw and heard with keen

er love were making vital decisions for her. As of old, in poignant moments, her father lapsed at last into a denunciation of the Isbels and what they had brought him to. His sufferings were real, at least

is my place-your fight is my fight.... Never speak of the past to me again. If God spares us through this feud we will go away and begin a