Ranching For Sylvia Volume-554 by Harold Bindloss (chrome ebook reader .TXT) 📕

"You May Have Noticed That While Economy Ruled Outside, The House Is

Remarkably Well Furnished.  The Money Marston Spent In Winnipeg Stores

Should Have Gone Into The Land."

Edgar Nodded; He Did Not Agree With George's Opinion Of Sylvia.

"You Don't Seem To Approve Of The Way Mrs. Marston Managed Things.

It's Rather Curious.  I Always Thought Her Pretty Capable In Some

Respects."

"That's Very Possible," Said Flora With A Hint Of Dryness.

"After All, It May Not Have Been Her Fault," Edgar Suggested.  "Marston

Was A Generous Fellow; He May Have Insisted On Thinking First Of Her

Comfort."

"Then She Ought To Have Stopped Him," Said Flora Firmly.  "Do You Think

A Woman Should Let A Man Spoil His One Chance Of Success In Order To

Surround Her With Luxury?"

"The Answer's Obvious."

A Dazzling Flash Of Lightning Leaped From The Mass Of Somber Cloud

Overhead, And They Turned Back Toward The House, Which George And Grant

Reached Soon Afterward.  Grant Said That He Must Get Home Before The

Storm Broke, And Grierson Brought Out His Spirited Team.  It Had Grown

Nearly Dark; A Curious Leaden Haze Obscured The Prairie; And When The

Man Was Getting Into His Light, Spring-Seated Wagon, A Jagged Streak Of

Lightning Suddenly Reft The Gloom And There Was A Deafening Roll Of

Thunder.  The Horses Started.  Grant Fell Backward From The Step,

Dropping The Reins; And While The Others Stood Dazzled By The Flash,

The Terrified Animals Backed The Vehicle With A Crash Against The

Stable.  Then They Plunged Madly Forward Toward The Fence, With The

Reins Trailing Along The Ground.  Flora Had Got In Before Her Father,

And She Was Now Helpless.

It Was Too Late When Grant Got Up; Grierson And Edgar Were Too Far

Away, And The Latter Stood Still, Wondering With A Thrill Of Horror

What The End Would Be; He Did Not Think The Horses Saw The Thin Wire

Fence, And The Gap In It Was Narrow.  If They Struck A Post In Going

Through, The Vehicle Would Overturn.  Then George, Running Furiously,

Sprang At The Horses' Heads, And Went Down, Still Holding On.  He Was

Dragged Along A Few Yards, But The Pace Slackened, And Edgar Ran

Forward With Grierson Behind Him.  For A Few Moments There Was A Savage

Struggle, But They Stopped And Held The Team, Until Grant Coolly

Cleared The Reins And Flung Them To His Daughter.

"Stick Tight While I Get Up, And Then Watch Out," He Said To The Others.

He Was Seated In Another Moment, The Girl Quietly Making Room For Him;

Then, To Edgar's Astonishment, He Lashed The Frantic Horses With The

Whip, And, Plunging Forward, They Swept Madly Through The Opening In

The Fence, With The Wagon Jolting From Rut To Rut.  A Minute Or Two

Afterward They Had Vanished Into The Thick Obscurity That Veiled The

Waste Of Grass, And There Was A Dazzling Flash And A Stunning Roll Of

Thunder.  George, Flushed And Breathless, Looked Around With A Soft

Laugh.

"Grant Has Pretty Good Nerve," He Said.

"That's So, Sir," Grierson Agreed.  "Strikes Me He'll Take Some Of The

Wickedness Out Of His Team Before He Gets Them Home.  I Noticed That

Miss Grant Didn't Look The Least Bit Afraid."

Then A Deluge Of Rain Drove Them Into The House, Where Edgar Sat

Smoking Thoughtfully; For What Flora Grant Had Said About Sylvia Had A

Disturbing Effect On Him.  It Looked As If Her Selfish Regard For Her

Comfort Had Hampered Marston In His Struggle; And Though Edgar Had

Never Had Much Faith In Sylvia, This Was Painful To Contemplate.

Moreover, George Cherished A Steadfast Regard For Her, Which

Complicated Things; But Edgar Prudently Decided That The Matter Was A

Delicate One And Must Be Left To The People Most Concerned.  After All,

Miss Grant Might Be Mistaken.

George Was Summer Fallowing, Sitting In The Iron Saddle Of A Plow Which

A Heavy Clydesdale Team Hauled Through The Stubble.  The Work Should

Have Been Done Earlier, For The Soil On The Marston Farm Was Very

Light, And, As It Had Already Grown Several Crops Of Cereals, George

Was Anxious To Expose It To The Influence Of Sun And Wind As Soon As

Possible.  It Was About The Middle Of The Afternoon And Very Hot.

Rounded Cloud-Masses Overhung The Plain, But Dazzling Sunshine Fell On

Grass And Stubble, And A Haze Of Dust Surrounded The Team, While Now

And Then The Fine Soil And Sand, Blown From The Rest Of The Fallow By

The Fresh Breeze, Swept By In Streams.  George Wore Motor-Goggles To

Protect His Eyes, But His Face And Hands Felt Scorched And Sore.

Farther Back, Edgar Plodded Behind A Lighter Team, Making Very Poor

Progress.

Presently George Looked Up And Saw Flora Grant Riding Toward Him.  She

Sat Astride, But Her Skirt Fell In Becoming Lines, And He Thought The

Gray Blouse And Wide Stetson Hat, With A Red Band Round It, Most

Effective.  She Reined Up Her Horse Near The Plow, And George Got Down.

"I Was Passing--Going On To Forsyth's Place--And My Father Asked Me To

Call," She Said.  "You Were Talking About Buying Cattle, And A Man At

Dunblane Has Some Good Herefords To Sell.  Father Thinks They Would

Suit You."

"His Recommendation Carries Weight," Said George.

"I'll Go And See Them.  I Must Thank You For Bringing Me Word."

"I've Another Message.  It's This--When You're Buying Stock, Be

Cautious How You Bid."

"As I'm Not Well Up In Local Prices, I Wish Mr. Grant Had Been A Little

Plainer."

"He Went Farther Than I Expected.  You See, As A Friend Of The Seller,

He's Awkwardly Fixed."

"Just So," Said George.  "But, If You're Not In The Same Position, You

Might Give Me A Hint.  How Much Is The Value Of Canadian Cattle Usually

Below The Price Likely To Be Asked Of A New Arrival?"

"In This Case, I Should Say About Fifty Per Cent," Flora Answered, With

A Laugh.

"Thank You," Responded George.  "I Am Sure Your Opinion's To Be Relied

On."

Edgar Stopped His Team Near By, And Flora Regarded Him With Amusement

As He Came Toward Them, His Red Face Streaked With Dust.

"You Look A Good Deal More Like A Western Farmer Than You Did When I

Saw You Last," She Laughed.

Edgar Removed His Goggles And Surveyed His Working Attire Somewhat

Disgustedly.

"I Wonder Whether That's A Compliment; But Now That I've Made The First

Plunge, I'd Better Go Through With It--Get A Flappy Hat And A Black

Shirt, Or One Of Those Brilliant Orange Ones."

"The Latter Are More Decorative.  But, As You Are Going On A Two Days'

Journey To Drive Some Cattle, I'll Tell You How To Find The Way."

"You Had Better Tell George.  I Can Only Remember The Things That

Interest Me."

Flora Gave Them Clear Instructions, And When She Rode Away George

Turned To Edgar.

"You'll Have To Come, And We'll Start At Once.  Grierson Can Go On

Plowing With The Clydesdales, Which Is More Than You Could Do."

"I'm Afraid I Must Admit It," Said Edgar, Glancing At His Ragged

Furrow.  "But I'm Going To Have My Supper And Put Up Some Provisions

Before I Leave The Place."

They Set Out An Hour Later, And Safely Reached Their Destination, Where

George Purchased A Dozen Cattle.  They Were Big, Red And White,

Long-Horned Animals, Accustomed To Freedom, For Fences Are Still Scarce

On Tracts Of The Prairie, And They Ranged About The Corral In A

Restless Manner.  Edgar, Leaning On The Rails, Watched Them Dubiously.

"They Look Unusually Active," He Remarked.  "I'm Not An Expert At

Cattle-Driving, But I Suppose Two Of Us Ought To Take Them Home."

The Rancher Laughed.

"Two's Quite A Good Allowance For That Small Bunch, But If You Keep

North Among The Scrub Poplar, You Won't Be Bothered By Many Fences.

It's Pretty Dry In Summer, But You'll Get Good Water In Baxter's Well,

If You Head For The Big Bluff You'll See Tomorrow Afternoon.  We'll Let

Them Out When You're Ready."

As Soon As The Rails Were Flung Down, The Cattle Rushed Out

Tumultuously, As If Rejoicing In Their Restored Freedom.  Then, While

George And His Companion Mounted, They Started Off Across The Prairie

At A Steady Trot.

"A Mettlesome Lot; Seem To Be In Good Training," Edgar Commented.

"Have You Any Idea Where They're Going?"

"Guess They're Heading For A Creek Two Miles Back; Water's Scarce,"

Explained The Rancher.  "As It's Near The Trail, You Had Better Let

Them Go.  You'll Round Them Up Quite Easy When They've Had A Drink."

George And Edgar Rode After The Cattle.  The Sun Was Getting Low, But

The Temperature Showed No Signs Of Falling, And The Men Were Soon

Soaked In Perspiration.  The Herd Went On At A Good Pace, Making For A

Wavy Line Of Timber, And On Reaching It, Plunged Down The Side Of A

Declivity Among Little Scattered Trees.  A Stream Trickled Through

Willow Bushes And Tall Grass In The Bottom Of