The Waterbury Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1917-1946, 1938-07-26
CHAPTER v

ing and bribed her Aunt Amy with
a smile and a kiss into giving her
coffee and orange juice in the kit
chen, and then went back to the
corralls and let Woody, one Of the
old hands, pick good horse for
her.
Reckon it's all right to let you
60 out alone, Miss Nikki," he said
with a broad grin. But some of
these dudes we don't dare let out
o. sight o. the ranch house. They'd
get lost. Lord knows why they
wouldn't have enough sense just
to give the boss its head and come
on home, but they don't He sighed
over the obvious lack of everyday
common sense Of the tenderfeet.
Nikki thought, as she slid blue
leaned right leg over the deep,
comfortable western saddle, that
she knew every foot of the ranch
within ten miles of the house, but
after leaving that ten-mile circle
she wouldn't much blame anyone
for getting lost. The country lay
in great rolling, timber frosted
slopes that climbed on one side to
the heights of the Big Horn noun
tains and leveled off irregularly on
the other to the Big Horn canyon,
so deep and steeply sided that once
in it men bad to stay there, fol-
lowing its course into Montana.
In the mountains were elk and
antelope and deer, and an occas-
sional shifting, clumsy footed bear
Nikki could see the towering Cloud
Peak and knew that below it lay
Ten Sleep canyon, while in the
other direction were the ancient
dinosaur beds of another age.
She was surrounded, though at
some distance, by the sites of fam
Gus pioneer battles, where men
had fought the red race in the adj
vance westward - the Dull Knife
battle-ground of 1876, and the Cap
tain Bates battle-ground of 1874,
tho Wagon Box Fight of 1867 and
thu Fetterman Massacre of 1866.
Nikki followed the creek for two
miles along its willow-fringed course
and then turned off, circled rock
dotted hill and started back through
a wide valley which led straight
to the ranch.
Kne had been on the back trail
Oily a few minutes when she saw
a cantering horseman approach
and long before the horses whin-
neyed a greeting, she knew the
rider was Bancroft. She was amaz-
ed at the way this obviously CITY,
bred man handled his horse and
remarked on his riding skill when
he pulled up at her side, turned and
started back with her.
II wanted to be a jockey once"
he said briefly, "but that didn't
last long" He looked at Nikki in
appreciation. She was wearing
soft white shirt, open at the throat
and blue neckerchief that height
ened the color of her eyes. Her
feet were in high-heeled cowboy
boots. She rode with the graceful,
slightly slouching ease that comes
from miles spent on the back of a
swaying horse.
They rode in silence for a mo-
ment as the trail narrowed and
forced Bancroft into position
back of Nikki. She was thinking:
I wonder If Sarto shot at Fisl1e
last night or if Fiske shot at Sarto.
But who is Fiske and what is his
part in this strange game? Maybe,
she thought, he's after the 100000.
Then Bancroft spoke.
Twill you be at the ranch long?"
Nikki answered carefully. 1--WE
haven't set any definite time. Two
weeks, three or maybe a month.
New York isn't much fun at thh
time of year."
you'll return to New York, I
suppose, when you leave here?"
Nikki wondered what he was get
ting at.
Eyes, we'll return to New York"
she replied. my father is there,
you know" Bancroft said nothing
and Nikki continued casually.
II wonder if you don't know my
father, Peter Jerome?"
"Peter Jerome" repeated Ban
croft. That's certainly a familiar
name. jerome Inc, Fifth Avenue?"
"Yes," and Nikki.
Il suppose everyone knows of
Peter Jerome by name at least, u
said Bancroft and his face and
voice were as expressionless as
ever. "But If you don't mind, I'm