Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1906-02-28
CHAPTER Nv.

mn had been absorbed In a
~ study of the cowboys. In her
own walk of life even the
a = basest of men approached her
clad in linen and broadcloth-sleek
beasts-with civility; but here We're
males whose lean jaws clamped upon
food with the eager haste of wolves,
men primitive rs Picts, with less Of
law than Zulus. They We're not out
laws from society, for they had never
known society. They We're desperadoes
for diversion.
Raymond's motive in thrusting them
out appeared more and more deed to
win applause. 1t lowered him, made
him less admirable in every way, and
when he spoke to her she withdrew
into herself with glance which chill
ed and depressed him.
"Of course his character is of no con-
sequence to me-" she thought, Except
in SO far us he is likely to influence
Louis" The situation suddenly lost its
spirit of comedy and took on very
serious cast. The plan of leaving a
sensitive, poetic boy to the company
and influence of men like these became
questionable. even dangerous. Baker
was foolish and stupid person, and
these rough riders troubled her; but
Raymond, to whom the boys eyes al
ready turned with fervent admiration,
was more corrupting still, for whatever
weaknesses lie might have would sure
ly come to be active and vital forces in
debasing others. The whole design in
the light of this encounter, assumed the
face of folly.
The powerful young rancher, mix
ture of barbarism and culture, engross-
ed her quite as mountain lion might
have done. His action could not be
foretold, and she was amazed to find
herself carried entirely outside herself,
shaken and dismayed. As he set to
work to put the table in order, silent
and sullen as before, she watched him
from her corner with intent gaze.
How deeply can trust him?" she
asked herself. don admires him, and
he certainly is a man of intelligence"
Louis, who had gone to see the sun
set, called to her excitedly, and as she
stepped outside the door she, too,
caught her breath In wonder and i'd
miration.
She turned to the dim purple range,
crumDled into ridges and slashed with
deep valleys. "They may be alluring
to you, laddie, but they scare me-a lit
tie. Well, perhaps you'll be able to &C
and see what they are like by and by,
when you are stronger"
perhaps Rob will take me. would
not be afraid of anything with him.
He's splendid type. Don't you think
so?"
Ann smiled, but answered doubtfully,
He seems fine, resolute fellow" Her
sisterly anxiety reappeared. "But
don't like to leave you here, Buddie.
These men, the best of them, seem
rough and reckless. / think you'd bet
ter go back with me-really do"
"Oh, no! I'm all right here, sis. Rob
will look after me. It's just what
need"
Maybe it is for the best, but have
u feeling that something is going to
happen to you. don't like to so back
without you. I'll stay on day or two
longer anyhow. l want to find out
more about conditions here. / have
queer feeling at my heart. dom. !
want to leave you. Let us go in"
A kerosene lamp stood among the
dishes, and the driver of their team
and two late coming horsemen and the
Mexican boy We're all eating together.
Raymond was not to be seen, and Ann
realized, with n pang Of dismay, how
wholly she was depending upon him.
"Without him l shall be scared" she
admitted to herself. The other men
paid very little direct attention to her