The Man of the Forest by Zane Grey (readera ebook reader txt) 📕

Thet's all, Miss Nell, an' you can rely on its bein' true.”

“I—I believe you—but I can't believe such—such robbery possible,” gasped Helen.

“It's simple as two an' two. Possession is law out here. Once Beasley gets on the ground it's settled. What could you do with no men to fight for your property?”

“But, surely, some of the men will stay with me?”

“I reckon. But not enough.”

“Then I can hire more. The Beeman boys. And Dale would come to help me.”

“Dale would come. An' he'd help a heap. I wish he was here,” replied Carmichael, soberly. “But there's no way to get him. He's snowed-up till May.”

“I dare not confide in uncle,” said Helen, with agitation. “The shock might kill him. Then to tell him of the unfaithfulness of his old men—that would be cruel.... Oh, it can't be so bad as you think.”

“I reckon it couldn't be no worse. An'—Miss Nell, there's only one way to get out of it—an' thet's the way of the West.”

“How?” queried Helen, eagerly.

Carmichael lunged himself erect and stood gazing down at her. He seemed completely detached now from that frank, amiable cowboy of her first impressions. The redness was totally gone from his face. Something strange and cold and sure looked out of his eyes.

“I seen Beasley go in the saloon as I rode past. Suppose I go down there, pick a quarrel with him—an' kill him?”

Helen sat bolt-upright with a cold shock.

“Carmichael! you're not serious?” she exclaimed.

“Serious? I shore am. Thet's the only way, Miss Nell. An' I reckon it's what Al would want. An' between you an' me—it would be easier than ropin' a calf. These fellars round Pine don't savvy guns. Now, I come from where guns mean somethin'. An' when I tell you I can throw a gun slick an' fast, why I shore ain't braggin'. You needn't worry none about me, Miss Nell.”

Helen grasped that he had taken the signs of her shocked sensibility to mean she feared for his life. But what had sickened her was the mere idea of bloodshed in her behalf.

“You'd—kill Beasley—just because there are rumors of his—treachery?” gasped Helen.

“Shore. It'll have to be done, anyhow,” replied the cowboy.

“No! No! It's too dreadful to think of. Why, that would be murder. I—I can't understand how you speak of it—so—so calmly.”

“Reckon I ain't doin' it calmly. I'm as mad as hell,” said Carmichael, with a reckless smile.

“Oh, if you are serious then, I say no—no—no! I forbid you. I don't believe I'll be robbed of my property.”

“Wal, supposin' Beasley does put you off—an' takes possession. What 're you goin' to say then?” demanded the cowboy, in slow, cool deliberation.

“I'd say the same then as now,” she replied.

He bent his head thoughtfully while his red hands smoothed his sombrero.

“Shore you girls haven't been West very long,” he muttered, as if apologizing for them. “An' I reckon it takes time to learn the ways of a country.”

“West or no West, I won't have fights deliberately picked, and men shot, even if they do threaten me,” declared Helen, positively.

“All right, Miss Nell, shore I respect your wishes,” he returned. “But I'll tell you this. If Beasley turns you an' Bo out of your home—wal, I'll look him up on my own account.”

Helen could only gaze at him as he backed to the door, and she thrilled and shuddered at what seemed his loyalty to her, his love for Bo, and that which was inevitable in himself.

“Reckon you might save us all some trouble—now if you'd—just get mad—an' let me go after thet greaser.”

“Greaser! Do you mean Beasley?”

“Shore. He's a half-breed. He was born in Magdalena, where I heard folks say nary one of his parents was no good.”

“That doesn't matter. I'm thinking of humanity of law and order. Of what is right.”

“Wal, Miss Nell, I'll wait till you get real mad—or till Beasley—”

“But, my friend, I'll not get mad,” interrupted Helen. “I'll keep my temper.”

“I'll bet you don't,” he retorted. “Mebbe you think you've none of Bo in you. But I'll bet you could get so mad—once you started—thet you'd be turrible. What 've you got them eyes for, Miss Nell, if you ain't an Auchincloss?”

He was smiling, yet he meant every word. Helen felt the truth as something she feared.

“Las Vegas, I won't bet. But you—you will always come to me—first—if there's trouble.”

“I promise,” he replied, soberly, and then went out.

Helen found that she was trembling, and that there was a commotion in her breast. Carmichael had frightened her. No longer did she hold doubt of the gravity of the situation. She had seen Beasley often, several times close at hand, and once she had been forced to meet him. That time had convinced her that he had evinced personal interest in her. And on this account, coupled with the fact that Riggs appeared to have nothing else to do but shadow her, she had been slow in developing her intention of organizing and teaching a school for the children of Pine. Riggs had become rather a doubtful celebrity in the settlements. Yet his bold, apparent badness had made its impression. From all reports he spent his time gambling, drinking, and bragging. It was no longer news in Pine what his intentions were toward Helen Rayner. Twice he had ridden up to the ranch-house, upon one occasion securing an interview with Helen. In spite of her contempt and indifference, he was actually influencing her life there in Pine. And it began to appear that the other man, Beasley, might soon direct stronger significance upon the liberty of her actions.

The responsibility of the ranch had turned out to be a heavy burden. It could not be managed, at least by her, in the way Auchincloss wanted it done. He was old, irritable, irrational, and hard. Almost all the neighbors were set against him, and naturally did not take kindly to Helen.

She had not found the slightest evidence of unfair dealing on the part of her uncle, but he had been a hard driver. Then his shrewd, far-seeing judgment had made all his deals fortunate for him, which fact had not brought a profit of friendship.

Of late, since Auchincloss had grown weaker and less dominating, Helen had taken many decisions upon herself, with gratifying and hopeful results. But the wonderful happiness that she had expected to find in the West still held aloof. The memory of Paradise Park seemed only a dream, sweeter