The midland journal., 1945-10-05
CHAPTER XVII
81 don't know" :"


II don't know exactly. But 1t
was in the paper about week ago"
Gus leaned to brush up a few
more imaginary ashes. "You come
down in kitchen, Missus. I'm getting
some lunch"
"All right, Gus. Is 1t lunch timer"
In the warm kitchen Gus moved
about efficiently and set a cup of
hot strong tea on the red-checked
tablecloth before her, some baked
beans, well-favored, topped with
srisp Drowned salt pork, and some
of her own bread, toasted on top of
the stove.
Sitting opposite her, stirring his
tea, his pale blue eyes studied her
thoughtfully. "You sick, Missus?"
"No, Gus"
"You going to ride dis afternoon?"
II don't know" She looked at the
food before her and took her fork in
her hand, then felt her stomach
shrink and close. Her belts had
grown very loose these days; her
slacks hung on her hips.
Gus appeared to be giving thought
to nothing but the demolishing of
the great pile of beans on his plate.
"If you cud get a jackrabbit-de
chickens needs meat"
Nell drank a little of her tea and
set the cup down. "Well-I might.
Later in the afternoon"
II saddle Gypsy for you, Missus. -"
Nell stirred her tea, staring a
hole through the tablecloth.
"Dot Gypsy-she's wild foal."
"Yes, I know"
"Und de boss, he dom want she
should have no more foals."
"She must have been bred before
he took her away from Banner. last
spring-early."
"Ya. Und dot mean she's foal
dis winter"
Nell buttered a small piece of
toast, made herself eat it.
"You don't like de beans, Mis-
sus?"
Il like them, Gus, but I'm not
hungry"
She went upstairs again and slow
ly tidied her room, with many
pauses to stand at the window. The
bleak skies and the colorless world
looked back at her balefully.
Later in the afternoon she put on
her black woolen jodhpurs and her
warm gray tweed jacket. A few
strokes Of the comb through her
hair drew 1t back and she fastened
1t in little bun, brushing her bang
smooth and drew on her small black
visored cap. As she picked up her
felt-llned gloves and the red scarf
for her throat she suddenly wanted
to hurry and get out Of that house.
Galloping along the county road,
Gypsy pricked her ears and turned
her head toward the Saddle Back.
mo, you don't, old girl-we're not
going up there"
Gypsy whinnied, getting the wind
from the band of brood mares be-
yond the crest, but Nell pressed her
spur against her and held her in the
road.
She counted the time since Rob
had left on September tenth. It
was nearly month. Figuring four
days for the trip to Pennsylvania,
then a week or ten days for the
sale, and two days for the trip
back-that would have brought it to
September twenty-sixth. Where had
he been since then? Laramie, ap-
parently, just twenty-five miles
away. And hadn't come home.
Hadn't even written. And here it
was the second week in October.
Reaching the bank Of Deer Creek,
Gypsy was belly deep in dried brown
grass. She grunted softly and turned
her head toward the water. Nell sat
relaxed ia the saddle while the mare
waded into the stream, her feet sink
ing deep in the soft gravel, and the
fresh and delicious smell of water
and damp earth and autumn leaves
waited up and made Nell wonder
why, now, everything that was sweet
sent a sharp pain through her heart.
Long wheezing sucks came from
Gypsy. Two magpies were quarrel
ing in tree overhead. And little
way off there was frantic yipping
from Kim as he chased a rabbit.
The cocker never yipped nor would
he let rabbit draw him into a
hopeless chase. He knew in ad-
vance where the rabbit would 60
and intercepted it.
Nell lifted Gypsy's head, turned
her, and the mare scrambled up the
bank, scattering water from her
hoofs and her mouth. And as she
resumed her canter, Nell resumed
the argument. Rob had been in
Laramie about two weeks and hadn't
let her know. Why? Didn't he want
to see her?
The dogs had vanished complete
ly. Often they started out on ride
with her, were led of by rabbits
or exciting scents ard disapp peared.
shs wouldn't see them again until