Alcatraz | Page 3

the intentness with which the brute watched Cordova that the girl
remembered a new-brought tiger in the zoo. Also, rage had poured him
full of such strength that through the dust cloud she caught again
glimpses of that first perfection.
He came at last to a stop, but he faced his owner with a look of steady
hate. The latter returned the gaze with interest, stroking his face and
snarling: "Once more, red devil, eh? Once more you miss? Bah! But I, I
shall not miss!"
It was not as one will talk to a dumb beast, for there was no mistaking
the vicious earnestness of Cordova, and now the girl made out that he
was caressing a long, white scar which ran from his temple across the
cheekbone. Marianne glanced away, embarrassed, as people are when
another reveals a dark and hidden portion of his character.
"You see?" said Cordova, "you would not be happy in the corral with
him, eh?"
He rolled a cigarette with smiling lips as he spoke, but all the time his
black eyes burned at the chestnut. He seemed to Marianne half child
and half old man, and both parts of him were evil now that she could
guess the whole story. Cordova campaigned through the country,

racing his horse at fairs or for side bets. For two reasons he kept the
animal systematically undernourished: one was that he was thereby
able to get better odds; the other was that only on a weakened Alcatraz
would he trust himself. At this she did not wonder for never had she
seen such almost human viciousness of temper in a dumb beast.
"As for running, señorita," continued Cordova, "sometimes he does
very well--yes, very well. But when he is dull the spurs are nothing to
him."
He indicated a criss-crossing of scars on the flank of the stallion and
Marianne, biting her lips, realized that she must leave at once if she
wished to avoid showing her contempt, and her anger.
She was a mile down the road and entering the main street of
Glosterville before her temper cooled. She decided that it was best to
forget both Alcatraz and his master: they were equally matched in
devilishness. Her last hope of seeing the mares beaten was gone, and
with it all chance of buying them at a reasonable figure; for no matter
what the potentialities of Alcatraz in his present starved condition he
could not compare with the bays. She thought of Lady Mary with the
sunlight rippling over her shoulder muscles. Certainly Alcatraz would
never come within whisking distance of her tail!

CHAPTER II
THE COMING OF DAVID
Having reached this conclusion, the logical thing, of course, was for
Marianne to pack and go without waiting to see the race or hear the
bidding for the Coles horses; but she could not leave. Hope is as blind
as love. She had left the ranch saying to her father and to the foreman,
Lew Hervey: "The bank account is shrinking, but ideals are worth more
than facts and I shall improve the horses on this place." It was a rather
too philosophical speech for one of her years, but Oliver Jordan had
merely shrugged his shoulders and rolled another cigarette; the crushed

leg which, for the past three years, had made him a cripple, had taught
him patience.
Only the foreman had ventured to smile openly. It was no secret that
Lew Hervey disliked the girl heartily. The fall of the horse which made
Jordan a semi-invalid, killed his ambition and self-reliance at the same
instant. Not only was it impossible for him to ride since the accident,
but the freeswinging self-confidence which had made him prosperous
disappeared at the same time; his very thoughts walked slowly on foot
since his fall. Hervey gathered the reins of the ranch affairs more and
more into his own hands and had grown to an almost independent
power when Marianne came home from school. Having studied music
and modern languages, who could have suspected in Marianne either
the desire or the will to manage a ranch, but to Marianne the necessity
for following the course she took was as plain as the palm of an open
hand. The big estate, once such a money-maker, was now losing. Her
father had lost his grip and could not manage his own affairs, but who
had ever heard of a hired man being called to run the Jordan business as
long as there was a Jordan alive? She, Marianne, was very much alive.
She came West and took the ranch in hand.
Her father smiled and gave her whatever authority she required; in a
week the estate was hers to control. But for all her determination and
confidence, she knew that she