The Sheriff's Son

okee

break the silence a

You look as if you

t were riding down the street toward their victim. At the head of that company rode her

smothered voice. "Sometimes it acts q

looked down at him. Her eyes, for the first

thousand feet high. You're not used to

he saddle and tr

after she had seated hersel

h in a cold rage at himself. Unless he conquered that h

t it wonderful how brave they are? You wouldn't think they would have courage

us and unfriendly attitude toward life. There was in her manner a resentment at fate, a bitterness that no girl of her years should have felt. In her wary eyes he read distrust of him. Was it because she was the product of

he most amazing thing in life-that no matter how poor the soil and

ark face mocked him. "You f

't y

withers. What's the use?" she demanded, almost savagely. Then, before he could answer, the girl c

heer and bleak. The panorama was a wild and primitive one. It suggested to the troubled mind of the young man an eagle's nest built far up in the crags from which the great

ked, his thoughts jumping b

es

e always l

year when I went

he

Denv

king jumped into word

like i

him. "What does it matter whether I l

thrust of the girl w

he apologized. "What I meant was, did

be going. You ride down.

answered promptly. "You mig

right," she said, im

ite of a stubborn will the girl's breath came raggedly.

ou might hurt you

t. Bring the horse cl

without his help. Presently s

him Cornell? Is i

"At the ball games we barked in chorus a rhyme: 'Cornell I yell-yell-yell-Cornell.' That's how it is

see. His real name is Day-After-To-Morrow, but you call him Cornel

Rutherford. Corn he shall be,

the open meadow. The road led plain, and straight to the horse ranch. Just bef

twenty-four. Before he turned to the girl, he loo

Where's your ho

n't Blacky g

aven't been ho

lf traps." She turned to include

chosen. His mind was a blank. At random he snatched for the

Street,"

knew he had m

re's a street called Cherokee i

on it, and my parents-since their name was Street, anyhow,-thought it

f the trap and lent me his horse to get home. I hurt my leg." She proce

Over the back of the horse he looked at his sister's guest without comment. Again he se

tepping into wolf traps.

matter how

rt

imped a few steps. "Nothing to

p again after you

she flung over her shoulde

econd chair. Tilted on the back of his head was a cowpuncher's pinched-in hat. He too had black hair and a black mustache. Like al

is sister, and fastened hi

d not take off his hat or

l. I don't need to tell you that h

hint. "My friends take me as they fi

d and with the fingers of it flipped the hat from the head of her brother

be angry. After a moment he tho

on manners, Boots," he said. "What's the ma

ree young rowdies in the house," sh

vy black eyebrows. Beulah went through the formula of introduction again, but without it Beaudry would have known this hawk-nos

guest had rescued her from the wolf trap and w

have him look at your ankle, hon

uised up a bit-that's

had left the room, his father turned again to Roy. His arm gathered in the girl beside hi

hem. The tone in which he had spoken to his son had been brusque and crisp, but when he addresse

ords had inherited their dark, good looks. The family likeness was strong in all of them, but nature had taken her revenge for the anti-social life of the father. The boys had reverted toward savagery. They were elemental and undisciplined. This was, perhaps, true of Beulah also. There were moments when she suggested in the startled poise o

the tines depended a belt with a six-shooter in its holster. A braided leather quirt lay on the table and beside it a spur one of the boys had brought in to

copy of "Aurora Leigh." A similar one of "In Memoriam" lay on the mantel next to a photograph of the girl's dead mother framed in small shells. These were mementoes of Beulah's childhood

lace invited Roy out to look over with him a new ram he had just imported from Galloway. The young man jumped at the chance. He knew as much

ys were frankly suspicious. Detectives of the express company had been poking about the hills. Was this young fellow who called himself Street a

real reason for his call. This young man was something of a dandy. He wore a Chihuahua hat and the picturesque trappings with which the Southwest sometimes adorns itself. The fine workmanship of the saddle,

ad shot. Moreover, he had the reputation of being ready to fight at the drop of the hat. To the Rutherford boys he was a h

sharpened the suspicions of the young rancher. He was the sort of man that cannot brook rivalry. T

self to ve