Part 63

"We're not so mighty disinterested," he said, referring to his paper. "The Round-up represents the New West in part, but to us the New West means opportunity to loot water-sites and pile up unearned increment. Oh yes, we're on the side of the fruit and alfalfa grower, because it pays. If the boss of my paper happened to be in the sheep business, as Senator Blank White is, we would sing a different tune. Or if I were a Congressman representing a district of cattle-men, I'd be very slow about helping to build up any system that would make me pay for my grass. As it is, I'm commissioned to make it hot for the ranchers that killed those dagoes, and I'm going to do it. If this country had a man like Cavanagh for sheriff, we'd have the murderers in two days. He knows who the butchers are, and I'd like his help; but he's nailed down here, and there's no hope of his getting away. A few men like him could civilize this cursed country."

Thereupon he drew from three pairs of lips a statement of the kind of man Ross Cavanagh was, but most significant of all were the few words of the girl, to whom this man of the pad and pencil was a magician, capable of exalting her hero and of advancing light and civilization by the mere motion of his hand. She liked him, and grew more and more willing to communicate, and he, perceiving in her something unusual, lingered on questioning. Then he rose. "I must be going," he said to Lee. "You've given me a lovely afternoon."

Lee Virginia was all too ignorant of the ways of reporters to resent his note-taking, and she accepted his hand, believing him to be the sincere admirer of her ranger. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I'm going back to Sulphur to spread the report of Cavanagh's quarantine." Again that meaning smile. "I don't want any other newspaper men mixed up in my game. I'm lonesome Ned in stunts like this, and I hope if they do come up you'll be judiciously silent. Good-bye."

Soon after the reporter left, Cavanagh called to Swenson: "The old man can't last through another such a night as last night was, and I wish you would persuade Mrs. Wetherford and her daughter to return to the valley. They can do nothing here--absolutely nothing. Please say that."

Swenson repeated his commands with all the emphasis he could give them, but neither Lize nor Lee would consent to go. "It would be heathenish to leave him alone in this lonesome hole," protested Lize.

"I shall stay till he is free," added Lee. And with uneasy heart she crossed the bridge and walked on and on toward the cabin till she was close enough to detect the lines of care on her lover's haggard face.

"Stop!" he called, sharply. "Keep away. Why don't you obey me? Why don't you go back to the valley?"

"Because I will not leave you alone--I can't! Please let me stay!"

"I beg of you go back."

The roar of the stream made it necessary to speak loudly, and he could not put into his voice the tenderness he felt at the moment, but his face was knotted with pain as he asked: "Don't you see you add to my uneasiness--my pain?"

"We're so anxious about you," she answered. "It seems as though we should be doing something to help you."

He understood, and was grateful for the tenderness which brought her so near to him, but he was forced to be stern.

"There is nothing you can do--nothing more than you are doing. It helps me to know that you are there, but you must not cross the bridge. Please go back!" There was pleading as well as command in his voice, and with a realization of the passion his voice conveyed, she retraced her steps, her heart beating quickly with the joy which his words conveyed.

At sunset Redfield returned, bringing with him medicines but no nurse. "Nobody will come up here," he said. "I reckon Ross is doomed to fight it out alone. The solitude, the long trail, scares the bravest of them away. I tried and tried--no use. Eleanor would have come, of course--demanded to come; but I would not permit that. She commissioned me to bring you both down to the ranch."

Lee Virginia thanked him, but reiterated her wish to stay until all possible danger to Cavanagh was over.

Redfield crossed the bridge, and laid the medicines down outside the door.

"The nurse from Sulphur refused to come when she found that her patient was in a mountain cabin. I'm sorry, old man; I did the best I could."

"Never mind," replied Cavanagh. "I'm still free from any touch of fever. I'm tired, of course, but good for another night of it. My main anxiety concerns Lee--get her to go home with you if you can."

"I'll do the best I can," responded Redfield, "but meanwhile you must not think of getting out of the Forest Service. I have some cheering news for you. The President has put a good man into the chief's place."

Cavanagh's face lighted up. "That'll help some," he exclaimed; "but who's the man?"

Redfield named him. "He was a student under the chief, and the chief says he's all right, which satisfies me. Furthermore, he's a real forester, and not a political jobber or a corporation attorney."

"That's good," repeated Cavanagh; "and yet--" he said, sadly, "it leaves the chief out just the same."

"No, the chief is not out. He's where he can fight for the idea to better advantage than when he was a subordinate under another man. Anyhow, he asks us all to line up for the work and not to mind him. The work, he says, is bigger than any man. Here's that resignation of yours," he said, taking Cavanagh's letter from his pocket; "I didn't put it on file. What shall I do with it?"

"Throw it to me," said Cavanagh, curtly.

Redfield tossed it over the hitching-pole, and Ross took it up, looked at it for a moment in silence, then tore it into bits and threw it on the ground.

"What are your orders, Mr. Supervisor?" he asked, with a faint, quizzical smile around his eyes.

"There's nothing you can do but take care of this man. But as soon as you are able to ride again, I've got some special work for you. I want you to join with young Bingham, the ranger on Rock Creek, and line up the 'Triangle' cattle. Murphy is reported to have thrown on the forest nearly a thousand head more than his permit calls for. I want you to see about that. Then complete your maps so that I can turn them in on the first of November, and about the middle of December you are to take charge of this forest in my stead. Eleanor has decided to take the children abroad for a couple of years, and as I am to be over there part of the time, I don't feel justified in holding down the Supervisor's position. I shall resign in your favor. Wait, now!" he called, warningly. "The District Forester and I framed all this up as we rode down the hill yesterday, and it goes. Oh yes, there's one thing more. Old man Dunn--"