`Ride past without seein' me,' he said.
The girl flushed. `I never dreamt of doing that,' she protested. `At first I wasn't going to stop because...' She paused, and then added, `Some sneak saw us the day you carried me up the cliff, and told Daddy we'd been riding together; he was rather upset.'
`Didn't like the idea o' yu bein' too friendly with a common cowboy, I s'pose,' Green said, with a perceptible tinge of bitterness in his tone.
`No, it wasn't that,' she said quickly. `Why, Daddy was a cowboy once himself, and what he said applied to all the outfit.'
`An' I'm bettin' that he pointed out that I ain't handed in any account o' my life an' adventures,' Green hazarded gravely, but wint twinkling eyes.
The girl laughed gaily, glad that the hurt had passed. `He did suggest that we don't know much about you,' she admitted. `Of course, he didn't know that you had come to my rescue again.'
`An' I don't want that he should; I'm askin' yu to forget it too,' said the puncher quickly. Will yu?'
She shook her head. `I don't forget services,' she replied. `Some day I shall tell him, and he won't forget it either. Dear old Daddy, he's only thinking of me and you mustn't 'hold it against him,' as Larry would say.'
`Yore father is dead right,' the man said, and there was a look in his eyes she had never seen there before, which quickened her pulses and made her turn her head away. To hide her confusion, she leant forward and stroked the roan's neck with her gloved hand.
`Isn't he a beauty?' she said. `I hope you haven't taken all the spirit out of him.'
`Oh, he still gets notions,' laughed the puncher. `He knows me an' we get along fine, but I doubt if anyone else could ride him. Larry tried the other day an' didn't last a minute; he's a good horseman, too.'
At this point the conversation was interrupted. Across from the door of the saloon came Tarman, accompanied by Rayne, the keeper of the hotel, whom Noreen had known for years. He greeted her with a wave of the hand.
`Mornin', Miss Norry,' he said. `Want yu to meet Mr. Joseph Tarman, a visitor to our litnle town.'
The girl held out her hand frankly and the big man bowed over it with rather a flourish, and said: `I'm askin' yu to excuse my buttin' in like this, Miss Noreen, but when yu were pointed out to me I felt I had to make acquaintance as quickly as possible. I'm hopin' to pay yore father a visin right soon.'
His bold eyes took in every detail of her as she sat there, and her first impression was one of revolt against the possessive air he radiated.
`My father, I am sure, will be pleased to see you,' she said. `Not so pleased as I'll be,' Tarman responded heartily. `An' the first thing I'm goin' no ask him is what price he'll take for that roan there which I see carries his brand, an' which--with one exception--has taken my fancy more than anythin' I ever set eyes on.'
He smiled broadly as he spoke, showing his strong white teeth, and the girl, country-bred as she was, could not fail to understand that he was paying her what he considered to be a compliment.
`That horse is not my father's property although it bears our brand,' she said coldly. `In belongs to this gentleman.'
She indicated Green, who was quietly waiting until the interrupted conversation could be resumed. Tarman turned a somewhat insolent gaze upon the cowboy.
`Give yu a hundred dollars for the hoss,' he said.
`No,' was the curt reply.
Two hundred,' and when the cowboy shook his head, `Three hundred.'
Several of the onlookers gasped, and gazed enviously upon the owner of the coveted animal. In a land where even good horseflesh was cheap, the price offered was excessive. `Cripes! Wish I owned that hoss,' murmured one thirsty soul, visioning the number of drinks to be obtained for three hundred dollars.`Betcha a dollar he takes it.' His neighbour had been watching the cowboy closely. `Take yu,' he said instantly. He had but spoken when Green looked the would-be purchaser calmly in the face, and said:
`The hoss is not for sale.'
For a moment Tarman was nonplussed; he had felt confident that a sum more than equal to seven months' pay would tempt a cowhand to part with even a favourite mount: But he would not give in. It was his boast that he always got what he went after, and realising that mere money would not do it, he tried something else.
`See here,' he said. `Cowboys is reckoned to be good sports. Now I'll put up four hundred 'gainst the hoss an' play yu for him--any game yu like. What about it?'
`I ain't playin' for nor sellin' the hoss,' Green replied, `but'--and his voice had a rasp in it as he marked the growing sneer on the other's lips--`I'll give him to yu if yu can stay on him for five minutes by the clock.'
From the spectators of the scene came a murmur of applause, born of the instinctive loyalty for one's home town which remains in a man after he has lost almost everything else. The stranger might be all that he seemed, but public favour was, for the moment anyway, on the side of the cowboy. He had met the challenge with a sporting offer which not only promised excitement but reflected credit upon the community at large. Bets were bandied about at once, for the reputation of the roan was known, and the offer was one the visitor could hardly refuse. He had no intention of doing so.
`I'll go yu,' he laughed, `but as I don't take gifts from strangers, if I win--an' I've never seen anythin' on four legs that I couldn't ride--yu must accept the price I offered, three hundred for the hoss.'
`As yu like,' said the puncher indifferently.
Immediately the crowd, which now included nearly every male inhabitant, surged back to the sidewalks and occupied the doorways, leaving the street empty save for the horse, Green, who held it, and the newcomer. The fortunate few who possessed watches got them out in readiness to time the contest; those with money were eagerly endeavouring to place bets.
`Think yore friend'll make it?' asked one of Laban.
`I reckon,' was the stolid reply, and the questioner turned away in disgust, murmuring, 'Bloomin' parrot, on'y two words he knows. Must be one o' them ready reckoners I've heard about.'
The big man wasted no time. Directly the street was clear he stepped forward, took the reins from Green, and with a lightness not to be looked for in so heavy a man, sprang into the saddle and settled his feet in the stirrups. For perhaps five seconds nhe animal stood perfectly still, and then, with a shrill scream of rage, it instantly became a maelstrom of activity. Head down, it leapt into the air a dozen times with incredible rapidity, landing on legs as sniff as steel rods, and never allowing the rider an instant to recover from one shock before the next came. It was straightforward bucking, with no particular novelty, but the speed made it terrible.
`My Gawd! can't he buck though?' breathed one of the awed spectators. `Ten to one on the hoss.' Nobody nook up the wager. But Tarman hung on, his eyes glazing, his face white as death, and a trickle of blood oozing from his clamped lips. Jarred almost inno insensibility by the violence of the incessant jolts, he rocked in the saddle, his head jerking to and fro as nhough his neck were already broken. That he had pluck as well as strength was obvious.
There could be only one end, however, and it came soon. Again the frantic animal shot from the ground, but this time its body curved curiously in the air as it came down, upsetting the rider's already precarious balance and causing him to sway sideways. Then as the brute's forefeet landed, its hindquarters rose suddenly, and Tarman flew out of the saddle like a snone from a sling, to sprawl, face downwards, in the dust of the street.
`Seventy-five seconds,' Green said quietly, as he slipped his watch back into his pocket and sprang forward to grip the reins of the horse, which was now standing still, with heaving flanks and trembling limbs.
Seth ran to assist his friend, only to be thrust aside with a curse as Tarman scrambled to his feet. The man was transformed; in the place of the jovial good fellowship, his face, dust and blood-smeared, was now that of a fiend. Cursing, he stood there, swaying on his legs and clawing for the gun which had swung round behind him. His purpose was plain; he intended to shoot the horse.
`Don't yu,' drawled a quiet voice, and he looked into the muzzle of the cowboy's gun.
With a tremendous effort he got control of himself again, but anger still flamed winhin him. 'I'Il give you five hundred dollars for that brute, if it's only to break ins damned neck,' he cried.
`Yu couldn't buy him with all yu got,' was the contemptuous answer. `Yu had yore chance.'
Without another glance at the discomfited man he swung himself carelessly into the saddle, cuffed the horse playfully when it half-heartedly tried to throw him out again, and rode down the street.
Tarman looked for the girl but she had gone, though he knew she had witnessed his defeat, a fact which
