And VB answered, "Then I guess we all understand one another."

When the three had ridden away Jed shoved his Colt tight into its holster again and looked at the young chap with foreboding.

"There'll be trouble, VB; they're bad," he said. "He's a coward. The story'll go round an' he'll try to get you harder 'n ever. If he don't, those others will--will try, I mean. Matson and Julio are every bit as bad as Rhues, but they ain't quite got his fool nerve.

"They're a thievin' bunch, though it ain't never been proved. n.o.body trusts 'em; most men let 'em alone an' wait fer 'em to show their hand.

They've been cute; they've been suspected, but they ain't never got out on a limb. They've got a lot to cover up, no doubt. But they've got a grudge now. An' when cowards carry grudges--look out!"

"If a man like Rhues were all I had to fear, I should never worry," VB muttered, weak again after the excitement. "He's bad--but there are worse things--that you can't have the satisfaction of knocking down."

And his conspiring nostrils smelled whisky in that untainted air.

CHAPTER XIV

The Schoolhouse Dance

Young VB held a twofold interest for the men of Clear River. First, the story of his fight with the Captain spread over the land, percolating to the farthest camps. Men laughed at first. The absurdity of it! Then, their surprise giving way to their appreciation of his attainment, their commendation for the young Easterner soared to superlatively profane heights.

When he met those who had been strangers before it was to be scrutinized and questioned and frankly, honestly admired.

Now came another reason for discussing him about bunk-house stoves. He had thrashed Rhues! Great as had been the credit accorded VB for the capture of the stallion, just so great was men's delight caused by the outcome of that other encounter.

They remembered, then, how Rhues had told of the greenhorn who was afraid to take a drink; how he had made it a purpose to spread stories of ridicule, doing his best to pervert the community's natural desire to let the affairs of others alone. And this recollection of Rhues's bullying was an added reason for their saying: "Good! I'm glad to hear it. Too bad th' kid didn't beat him to death!"

Though his meetings with other men were few and scattered, VB was coming to be liked. It mattered little to others why he was in the country, from where he came, or who he had been. He had accomplished two worthy things among them, and respect was accorded him across vast distances. Dozens of these men had seen him only once, and scores never, yet they reckoned him of their number--a man to be taken seriously, worthy of their kindly attention, of their interest, and of their respect.

Bob Thorpe helped to establish VB in the mountains. He thought much about his interview with the young chap, and told to a half-dozen men the story which, coming from him, had weight.

His daughter did not abandon her idea of owning the Captain. Bob told her repeatedly that it was useless to argue with a man who spoke as did Jed's rider; but the girl chose to disagree with him.

"I think that if you'd flatter him enough--if we both would--that he would listen. Don't you?" she asked.

Bob Thorpe shook his head.

"No," he answered. "You can't convince me of that. You don't know men, and I do. I've seen one or two like him before--who love a thing of that sort above money; and, I've found you can't do a thing with 'em--ding 'em!"

The girl cried: "Why, don't feel that way about it! I think it's perfectly fine--to love an animal so much that money won't buy him!"

"Sure it is," answered her father. "That's what makes me out of patience with them. They're--they're better men than most of us, and--well, they make a fellow feel rather small at times."

Then he went away, and Gail puzzled over his concluding remark.

A week to a day after her first visit she drove again to Jed's ranch.

"I came over to see the Captain," she told the old man gayly.

"Well, th' Captain ain't here now," he answered, beaming on her; "but VB'll be back with him before noon."

She looked for what seemed to be an unnecessarily long time at her watch, and then asked:

"Is that his name?"

"What--th' Captain?"

"No--VB."

Jed laughed silently at her.

"Yep--to be sure an' that's his name--all th' name he's got."

"Well, I wish Mr. VB would hurry back with the Captain," she said.

But that easy flush was again in her cheeks, and the turn she gave the conversation was, as they say in certain circles, poor footwork.

Within an hour the Captain bore his rider home. Gail stayed for dinner and ate with the two men.

It was a strange meal for VB. Not in months had he eaten at the same table with a woman; not in years had he broken bread with a woman such as this, and realization of the fact carried him back beyond those darkest days. He remembered suddenly and quite irrelevantly that he once had wondered if this daughter of Bob Thorpe's was to be a connecting link with the old life. That had been when he first learned that the big cattleman had a daughter, and that she was living in his East. Now as he sat before neglected food and watched and listened, feasting his starved spirit on her, noting her genuine vivacity, her enthusiasm, the quick come and go of color in her fine skin, he knew that she was a link, but not with the past that he had feared. She took him back beyond that, into his earlier boyhood, that period of adolescence when, to a clean-minded boy, all things are good and unstained. She was attractive in all the ways that women can be attractive, and at the same time she was more than a desirable individual; she seemed to stand for cla.s.ses, for modes of living and thinking, that Young VB had put behind him--put behind first by his wasting, now by distance. But as the meal progressed a fresh wonder crept up in his mind. Was all that really so very far away? Was not the distance just that between them and the big ranch house under the cotton woods beyond the hills? And was the result of his wasting quite irreparable? Was he not rebuilding what he had torn down?

He felt himself thrilling and longing suddenly for fresher, newer experiences as the talk ran on between the others. The conversation was wholly of the country, and VB was surprised to discover that this girl could talk intelligently and argue effectively with Jed over local stock conditions when she looked for all the world like any of the hundreds he could pick out on Fifth Avenue at five o'clock of any fine afternoon. He corrected himself hastily. She was _not_ like those others, either. She possessed all their physical endowments, all and more, for her eye was clearer, her carriage better, she was possessed of a color that was no sham; and a finer body. Put her beside them in their own environment, and they would seem stale by comparison; bring those others here, and their bald artificiality would be pathetic. The boy wanted her to know those things, yet thought of telling her never came to his consciousness. Subjectively he was humble before her.

The interest between the two young people was not centered completely in VB. Each time he lowered his gaze to his plate he was conscious of those frank, intelligent blue eyes on him, studying, prying, wondering, a laugh ever deep within them. Now and then the girl addressed a remark to him, but for the most part she spoke directly to Jed; however, she was studying the boy every instant, quietly, carefully, missing no detail, and by the time the meal neared its end the laughter had left her eyes and they betrayed a frank curiosity.

When the meal was finished the girl asked VB to take her to the corral.

She made the request lightly, but it smote something in the man a terrific blow, stirring old memories, fresh desires, and he was strangely glad that he could do something for her. As they walked from the cabin to the inclosure he was flushed, embarra.s.sed, awkward. He could not talk to her, could scarcely keep his body from swinging from side to side with schoolboy shyness.

The stallion did not fidget at sight of the girl as he had done on the approach of other strangers. He snorted and backed away, keeping his eyes on her and his ears up with curiosity, coming to a halt against the far side of the corral and switching his fine tail down over the shapely hocks as though to make these people understand that in spite of his seeming harmlessness he might yet show the viciousness that lurked down in his big heart.

"I think he'll come to like you," said VB, looking from his horse to the girl. "I don't see how he could help it--to like women, understand," he added hastily when she turned a wide-eyed gaze on him.

"He doesn't like strange men, but see--he's interested in you; and it's curiosity, not anger. I--I don't blame him--for being interested," he ventured, and hated himself for the flush that swept up from his neck.

They both laughed, and Gail said: "So this country hasn't taken the flattery out of you?"

"Why, it's been years--years since I said a thing like that to a girl of your sort," VB answered soberly.

An awkward pause followed.

"Dare I touch him?" the girl finally asked.

"No, I wouldn't to-day," VB advised. "Just let him look at you now.

Some other time we'll see if--That is, if you'll ever come to see us--to see the Captain again."

"I should like to come to see the Captain very much, and as often as is proper," she said with mocking demureness.

And she did come again; and again and yet again. Always she took pains to begin with inquiries about the horse. When she did this in Jed Avery's presence it was with a peculiar avoidance of his gaze, that might have been from embarra.s.sment; when she asked Young VB those questions it was with a queer little teasing smile. A half-dozen times she found the boy alone at the ranch, and the realization that on such occasions she stayed longer than she did when Jed was about gave him a new thrill of delight.