The Ranch at the Wolverine

snow and would have missed the stable entirely if the leadership had been hers. She patted Blue gratefully on the shoulder when she unsaddled him. She groped with her

hortly. "Blue won't fight, and I think the rest of the

but she was not so pleased at his silence, and she led the way rath

d fair in the light, looking out with the anxious look which had lived so long in her fac

e interduction a fellow needs, I guess." She smiled, at that. She had a nice smile, with a little resemblance to Billy Louise, except that the worried, inquiring look never left her eyes; as if she had once waited long

er?" she asked.

after you left. He saddled up and rode off

wn from its nail, turning up the wick so that she could light it with the candle. "Go

as soon as she had lighted it. "You go to the fire yo

ook she had objected to on the trail, but she saw his mouth, and the little smile that hid just back of his lips. She smiled back

nk n

the tone at all. She had turned away to get the milk pails, and now she gave him a sidelong look, of the kind that had been utterly wasted upon Marthy. The man met it and

l where they huddled, rumps to the storm; and the man lifted great forkfuls of hay and carried it into their stalls, while Billy Louise held the lantern high over her head like a western Liberty. They did not talk much, except when there was need for speech; but they were beginning to

oding silences afterwards. She talked now, while she pulled a pan of hot, brown biscuits from the oven, poured the tea, and turned crisp, browned potatoes out of a frying-pan into a deep, white bowl. She wondered, over and over, why Peter Howling

le hid just behind his lips; also, she liked his hair, which was thick and brown, with hints of red in it here and there, and a strong inclination to curl where it was longest. She had known he was tall when he stepped into the light of the door; now she saw t

ister," her mother said finally. "

e because she had never before given him any opportunity to

ractedly poured two spoons of sugar in h

ntral figure. Up the canyon at the caves, she sometimes pretended that Ward Warren had abducted Minervy and that she must lead the rescue. Sometimes, when she rode in the hills, Ward Warren abducted her and led her into strange places where she tried to shiver in honest dread. Often and often, however, Ward Warren was a fugitive who came to her for help; then she would take him to Minervy's cave and hide him, perhaps; or she would mount her horse and lead him, by devious ways, to safety, and upon some hilltop from which she could p

found him looking straight at her in that intent fashion that seemed as if he would see through and all around her and her thoughts. He was not smiling at all. His mouth was pulled into a certain b

into the slop bucket, and loitered over the refilling of the cup so that when she returned to the table she was at least outwardly calm. She felt an

ew that was good for at least five minutes of straight monologue, with her mother in that talking mood. She finished her supper whil

fe-it's exactly as if Minervy should come to life and walk in. Ward Warren!

And she had saved his life hundreds of times, at immense risks to herself; and he had always been her devoted slave afterwards, and never failed to appear at the precise moment when she was beset by Indians or robbers or something, and in dire need. The blood

ilke dying, Billy Louise?" her mother

elp seeing Ward Warren calmly filling that washout with dead Indians so that he might carry her across it in his arms. The more she tried to forget that, the funnier it became. She

imself, however. He took up his position-mentally-behind the wall of aloofness which stood between himself and an

lly Louise let her slate, with the goat problem unsolved, lie in her lap while she watched him. When she finally became curious enough to decipher the name of the book-she had three or four in that dull, brown binding-and saw that he was reading The Ring and the Book, she felt stunned. She read Browning just as she drank sage tea; it was supposed to be good for her. Her English teacher had given her that

mal and not over twenty-five or so, pushed his chair out of her way with a purely mechanical movement, and read and read, and actually was too absorbed to feel her nearness. And he really was reading The Ring and the Book; Billy Louise was rude enough to look over his shoulder to make sure of that. She gave up, then, and though she picked a book a

d that he was quick to see a joke, and that he simply could not be caught napping, but had always a retort ready for her. That was true until after dinner, when he picked up a book again. When that happened, he was dead to the world bounded by the coulee walls, and he did not show any symptoms of consciousness until he had reached the last page, just when the

gone out. "I just know Peter's off drinking. I don't think he's a safe man to have around, Billy Louise. I didn't when you hi

strike me as a man who wants a job milking tw

got the breed, half the time. This is the third time he's disappeared, in the two m

somewhat sharply. She adored her mother; but if she had to run the ranch, she

ay and never fed the pigs their noon slop, and I had to carry it out myself. And my lumbago has bothered me ever since, jus

ld you to hire the man if you wa

r, his eyes two question marks. "Isn't-what?" he asked and shut

do chores," Billy Louise finished and looked at

d friend of mine. But it looks to me as if you two needed something around that looks like a man a heap more than Jim does. I know Peter Howling Dog to a fare-you-well; you'll be all to the good if he forgets to come back. So if you'll stake me to a meal now and then, an

ise drew herself up primly and ended by contradicting the action. She gave him the sidelong glance which he was least prepared to with

ant to stay, Mr. Warren," she said quite soberly. "Also t

d. "She's going to be one stormy night, lay-dees," he added in quite another tone, on his way to the door. "Five o'clock by the town clock, and al-ll's well!" This last in still another tone, as he push

ling reminiscently. "The very song I used to pretend he always sang when he came down the c

top of a clear, strong-lunged voice, that old, o

in the West and a

ld slicker's in

youpy, youp

i youpy,

sure it's a comfort to have him here,

g back into the child-world wherein Ward Warren came singing down the canyon t

licker, and a-p

e Lord I'll never

youpy, youp

yi youpy

irrups and seat

led with them l

ti

hat for? And the wind freezing everything inside! I can feel a terri

speculations, and the words of that old trail song ran on in her memory though she could no longer hear him singing. Her mother talked

ved, yourself, that

h a jerk to reality. The little smile that had been in her eyes and on her lips fled back

ter," she admitted taciturnly; which was as close to her r