The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1917-05-31

wouldn't be young folks enough left
to milk the cows"
| "Henry, what Is this report about the
Calabasas barns burnlng?'
"The old Number One barn Is gone
and some of the old stages. We didn't
lose any horses, and the other barns
are all right. Some of our Calabnsas
or gap friends, probably. No matter
/ wen get them all rounded up after n
while, Nan. Then, some fine day,
we're going to get married"
De Spain rode that night to Gala
basas to look into the story OF the fire.
McAlpin, swnthed In bandages, made
no bones about accusing the common
enemy. No witnesses could be found
to throw any more light on the inquiry
than the barn boss himself. And De
Spain made only n pretensc of formal
investigation. II he had had any
doubts about the origin of the fire they
would have been resolved by an anouy-
nous scrawl, sent through the mail,
promising more II he didn't get out of
| the country.
But instead of getting out of the
country, DE Spain continued ms mat
ter of energetic policy to get into it.
He rode the deserts stripped, so TO say,
for action and walked the streets of
Sleepy Cat welcoming every chance to
meet men from Music mountain or the
sinks. 1t was on Nan that the real
hardshlps of the situation fell, and
Nan whoshad to bear them alone and
almost unalded.
Duke came home day or two later
without word FOR Nan concerning his
encounter with De Spain. He was
shorter In the grain than ever, crustler
to everyone than she had ever known
him-and toward Nan herself fiercely
resentful. Sassoon was In his com
pany great deal, and Nan knew of
old that Sassoon was bad symptom.
Gale, too, came often, and the three
We're much together. In some way,
Nan felt that she herself was in part
the subject of their talks, but no infor-
nation concerning them could she ever
get.
One morning she sat on the porch
sewing when Gale rode up. lie asked
for her uncle. Bonita told him Duke
had gone to Calabasas. Gale an
nounced he was bound for Calabasas
| himself, and dismounted near Nan.
professedly to clnch his saddle. He
fused with the straps for minute,
trying to engage Nan In the interval.
without success, In conversation. 'Look
here, Man." he said at length, studious-
ly nmlable, "don't you think you're
pretty hard on me, lately?"
mo, l don't" she answered. "If
Uncle Duke didn't make me, I'd never
look at you. or speak to you-or live
In the same mountains with you"
81 don't think when n fellow cares
for you as much as do, and gets out
of patience once in a while, just be-
cause he loves n girl the way red
blooded man can't help loving her, she
ought TO hold 1t against him forever.
Think she ought TO, Nan?" he demand
ed after pause. She was sewing and
kept silence.
II think" she responded, showing
her aversion in every syllable, before
man begins TO talk red-blood rot. he
ought TO find out whether the girl cares
for him, or just loathes the sight OF
him."
He regarded her fixedly. Paying no
attention TO him, but bending in the
sunshine over her sewing, her hand fly !
Ing with the needle, her masses of |
brown hair sweeping back around her
pink ears and curling In stray ringlets |
that the wind danced with while she |
worked. she infamed her brawny cous- |
ms ardor afresh. you used TO care |
for me. Nan. You can't deny that"
Her silence was irritating. "Can your"
he demanded. "Come, put up your
work and talk 1t out. l didn't use TO |
have TO coax you for word and a
smile. What's come over yod?'
Nothing has come over Iue, Gale. l |
did use to like you-when | first came
back from school. You seemed so big
and fine then, and We're so nice to me.
did like you"
sway didn't you keep on liking meY"
Nan made no answer. Her cousin
persisted. "You used TO talk about
thinking the world OF me-" she said at
last; "then saw you one Frontier day,
riding around Sleepy Cat with a car
riage fun of women"
Gale burst into n huge laugh. Mans
face flushed. She bent over her work.
"Oh, that's what's the matter with you,
a. Il