Judith of the Plains

The Post

d to indulgence in local lethe waters, for Lemuel Chugg had survived a romance and drank to forget that woman is a variable and a changeable thing. In consequence of which the sober

sway. Leander, as aide-de-camp, courier, and staff, executed marvellous feats of domestic engineering. The late breakfast-table, swept and garnished with pigeo

sprawling space till it was lost in a world without end, Mary Carmichael, standing in the doorway, wa

the nearing hoofs. The rider, now close enough for Miss Carmichael to distinguish the features, was a thorough dandy of the saddle. No slouching garb of exigence and comfort this, but a pretty display of doeskin gaiter, varnished boot, and smart riding-breeches. The lad-he could not have been, Miss Carmichael thought, more than twenty-was tanned a splendid color not unlike the bloomy shading on a nasturtium. And when the doughty horseman made out th

the freedom of the wilderness. It was impossible for a homesick girl not to respond to such heartiness, though it was with difficulty at first that Mary kept her e

and whose assurance of the pleasure of meeting her made her as self-conscious as on her first day at dancing-s

ed, noticing Mary's evident uneasiness; "but you don't know how good it is to see a girl. I'm s

ust the other way-too man

armichael's hand and went into the house. Mary

dishcloths, which he began to hang on

ho is she?"

tress, Judith Rodney; yes, that's her name." He dropped his voice in the manner of o

, but she could not resist the temptation to linger. He had disposed of his last dish-cloth, an

ps it's because she is my wife's successor in office, or p'a'ps it's jest the natural g

artist "sighting" a landscape, saw apparently that it was in drawing, and next brought his vision t

stler. If 'twan't for her"-Leander went through the grewsome pantomime of tying an imaginary rope round his neck and throwing it over the limb o

r Mr. Dax's grisly demonstration, but of the qual

that?" she inquired, wit

abouts," said Leander, as one who spoke with au

cowardice of an unworthy antagonist. The pale man's grievance had had to do with sheep and cattle. His name had been Rodney, too. She understood now. He was Judith Rodney's brother, and he was in danger of being han

s stealthy manner that he had more to impart. He walked t

at the chance to die for her-but the women!" Leander's pantom

she ain't a good girl on that account"; and something like an attitude of c

y wife, every time she give me a chance, 'If Judy wasn't a good girl these boys about here would just natchra

omen jealo

ridin' in pants, an' it certainly is a heap more modest than ridin

en out here ride as

about these foot-hills without coming across a woman, like as not, holdin' on to a posse of kids, and ridin' clothes-pin fashion in a looped-up skirt; when she sees you comin' she'll p'r'aps upset a kid or two ass

der!" came in accusing

s handmaiden; "don't le

the temptation of looking back. Leander, with incredible rapidity, grabbed two clothes-pins off the line,

flannel shirts, and all manner of strange habiliments came galloping over the roads as if their horses were as keen on reaching Dax's as their riders. They came towards the house at full tilt, their horses stretching flat with ears laid back viciously, and Mary, who was unused to the

n twisted high on her head. She was well worth a trip across the alkali wastes to see. The room was packed with men. One unconsciously got the impression that a fire, a fight, or some crowd-collecting casualty had happened. Above the continual clinking of spurs there arose every idiom and peculiarity of speech of which these United States are capable. There is no Western dia

olitary exercise in the bowling-alley. The ten-pins took their tumbles in good part-no one could congratulate himself on escapi

r personality-and [pg 051] through no conscious effort of hers-would have been pre-eminent anywhere. As it was, in this woman-forsaken wilderness she might have stirred up a modern edition of the Trojan war at any moment. That sh

the essence of her being, a subtle combination of saint and devil. One could fancy her leading an army on a crusade or provoking a bar-room brawl. The challenging quality of her beauty, the vividness of color, the suggestion

alty, was a sight worth seeing. She had the alertness of a lion-tamer [pg 052] locked in a cage with the lords of the jungle; the rashly confident she humbled, the meek she exalted, and all with such genuine good-fellowship, such an absence of coquetry in the genial game of give and take, that one ceased to wonder at

n one of the company at Mrs. Clark's eating-house had inquired for mail, and seemed so embarrassed by his own bulk that he moved cautiously, as if he might step on a fellow-creature

un to lose h

sing fate, and barely glanced at the man who had ridden a

een them and me." There was

lace at the end of that line again

im with such good-fellowship that he went off singing signifi

not on the

grave just s

d coyotes wil

not on the l

e saddle. He suggested over-crowded excursion boats on Sunday afternoons in swarming Eastern cities. He buttonholed every one and ex

ss, with a real motherly note,

ical style of Mexican sombrero; it had a brass snake coiled round the crown for a hat-band, and

it, son; you better name the day

t declared. A conspicuous silence followed. It seemed to [pg 054] irritate the

for your health?" the big Texan, who h

the man with the hat, "N'Y

eetly-"the man who sold you t

tters. The boys were suspiciously

xamined the

s mind 'twas t

prices his poc

it a-heal

e held in her hand-"'Mrs. Henry Lee, Deer Lodge, Wyoming.' Well, Henry, here's a wedding-presen

the shyest man in the "Goose Creek Outfit," had to submit to the mock cong

g, son; them golden curls seldo

Henry? [pg 055] They ain't much for lo

y handled the package with a sort of dumb wonder, as if the su

or sentiments of curiosity regarding

is here may be gr

her fellow's sen

howled like Apaches, and Henry was again forced to receive their congratulations. Judith, who had been an interested on-looker without joining in the merriment, n

oses in ten minutes, if yo

f the more hilariously inclined followed him. The remainder confined themselves absolutely to business, scrawling postal-cards or reading their mail. T

graver as he spoke to the postmistress. He was Major Atkins, formerly a famous cavalry officer, but since his retirement a cattle-man whose herds grazed to the pan-handle of Texas. As he took his

tate, Judy-get him out, quick. He tried to kill Simpson at Mrs. Clark's, in town, yesterday. The little Eastern girl that's

g! He had always been her friend. Mrs. Atkins had been one of the ladies at the post who had helped to send her to school to the nuns at Santa Fé. She despised herself for [pg 057] doubting; yet these were troublous times, and all was fair between sheep and cattle-men. Major Atkins had spoken of the Eastern g

swept by the wash of the waves. She strove to collect her faculties. How should she rid the house of

wells that there was nothing to do but betake themselves to their saddles. Others had compromised with the saloon opposite, and their roaring mirth came in snatches of song and shouts of laughter. She fastened up the little pile of letters that had remained uncalled for wi

t, hot as the breaths of a thousand belching furnaces. A white, burning glare had spread itself from horizon to horizon, and the earth wrinkled and cracked beneath it. From every corner of this parched wilderness came an ominous whirring, like the last wheezing gasp of an alarm-clock before striking the hour. This menacing o

g