Brand Blotters. William MacLeod Raine

and twos until the procession swelled to a swollen stream that poured forth in a torrent. Behind them came Antonio in his sombrero and blanket, who smiled at his mistress, shouted an “Adios, señorita,” and disappeared into the yellow dust cloud which the herd left in its wake.

      “How does Champ like being in the sheep business,” Norris said to the girl. 70

      Melissy did not remove her eyes from the vanishing herd, but a slight frown puckered her forehead. She chose to take this as a criticism of her father and to resent it.

      “Why shouldn’t he be?” she said quietly, answering the spirit of his remark.

      “I didn’t mean it that way,” he protested, with his frank laugh.

      “Then if you didn’t mean it so, I shan’t take it that way;” and her smile met his.

      “Here’s how I look at this sheep business. Some ranges are better adapted for sheep than cattle, and you can’t keep Mary’s little lamb away from those places. No use for a man to buck against the thing that’s bound to be. Better get into the band-wagon and ride.”

      “That’s what father thought,” the girl confessed. “He never would have been the man to bring sheep in, but after they got into the country he saw it was a question of whether he was going to get the government reserve range for his sheep, or another man, some new-comer like Mr. Morse, for his. It was going to be sheep anyhow.”

      “Well, I’m glad your father took the chance he saw.” He added reminiscently: “We got to be right good friends again last night before we parted.”

      She took the opening directly. “If you’re so good a friend of his, you must not excite him about Mr. 71 Morse. You know he’s a Southerner, and he is likely to do something rash—something we shall all be sorry for afterward.”

      “I reckon that will be all right,” he said evasively.

      Her eyes swept to his. “You won’t get father into trouble will you?”

      The warm, affectionate smile came back to his face, so that as he looked at her he seemed a sun-god. But again there was something in his gaze that was not the frankness of a comrade, some smoldering fire that strangely stirred her blood and yet left her uneasy.

      “I’m not liable to bring trouble to those you love, girl. I stand by my friends.”

      Her pony began to move toward the house, and he strode beside, as debonair and gallant a figure as ever filled the eye and the heart of a woman. The morning sun glow irradiated him, found its sparkling reflection in the dark curls of his bare head, in the bloom of his tanned cheeks, made a fit setting for the graceful picture of lingering youth his slim, muscular figure and springy stride personified. Small wonder the untaught girl beside him found the merely physical charm of him fascinating. If her instinct sometimes warned her to beware, her generous heart was eager to pay small heed to the monition except so far as concerned her father.

      After breakfast he came into the office to see her before he left. 72

      “Good-by for a day or two,” he said, offering his hand.

      “You’re coming back again, are you?” she asked quietly, but not without a deeper dye in her cheeks.

      “Yes, I’m coming back. Will you be glad to see me?”

      “Why should I be glad? I hardly know you these days.”

      “You’ll know me better before we’re through with each other.”

      She would acknowledge no interest in him, the less because she knew it was there. “I may do that without liking you better.”

      And suddenly his swift, winning smile flashed upon her. “But you’ve got to like me. I want you to.”

      “Do you get everything you want?” she smiled back.

      “If I want it enough, I usually do.”

      “Then since you get so much, you’ll be better able to do without my liking.”

      “I’m going to have it too.”

      “Don’t be too sure.” She had a feeling that things were moving too fast, and she hailed the appearance of her father with relief. “Good morning, dad. Did you sleep well? Mr. Norris is just leaving.”

      “Wait till I git a bite o’ breakfast and I’ll go with you, Phil,” promised Lee. “I got to ride over to Mesa anyhow some time this week.” 73

      The girl watched them ride away, taking the road gait so characteristic of the Southwest. As long as they were in sight her gaze followed them, and when she could see nothing but a wide cloud of dust travelling across the mesa she went up to her room and sat down to think it out. Something new had come into her life. What, she did not yet know, but she tried to face the fact with the elemental frankness that still made her more like a boy than a woman. Sitting there before the looking-glass, she played absently with the thick braid of heavy, blue-black hair which hung across her shoulder to the waist. It came to her for the first time to wonder if she was pretty, whether she was going to be one of the women that men desire. Without the least vanity she studied herself, appraised the soft brown cheeks framed with ebon hair, the steady, dark eyes so quick to passion and to gaiety, the bronzed throat full and rounded, the supple, flowing grace of the unrestrained body.

      Gradually a wave of color crept into her cheeks as she sat there with her chin on her little doubled hand. It was the charm of this Apollo of the plains that had set free such strange thoughts in her head. Why should she think of him? What did it matter whether she was good-looking? She shook herself resolutely together and went down to the business of the day.

      It was not long after midnight the next day that Champ Lee reached the ranch. His daughter came 74 out from her room in her night-dress to meet him.

      “What kept you, Daddy?” she asked.

      But before he could answer she knew. She read the signs too clearly to doubt that he had been drinking.