The Cow Puncher | Page 9

with his parentage had gone far to
make him sour and moody. Irene at first had thought him rude and
gloomy; flashes of humor had modified that opinion, but she had not
yet learned that his disposition was naturally a buoyant one, weighed
down by an environment which had made it soggy and unresponsive. In
years to come she was to know what unguessed depths of character
were to be revealed when that stoic nature was cross-sectioned by the
blade of a keen and defiant passion. This morning she foresaw nothing
of those future revelations, but in the old man her instinct detected
qualities which perhaps were awaiting only some touch of sympathetic
understanding to flash forth even yet like that burst of sunset radiance
which sometimes marks the close of a leaden day.
Mr. Elden promptly engaged the doctor in conversation, and in a few
moments had gleaned the main facts in connection with the accident
and the father and daughter which it had brought so involuntarily under
his roof. He was quite sober now, and his speech, although slovenly,
was not indelicate. He was still able to pay to woman that respect

which curbs the coarseness of a tongue for years subjected to little
discipline.
After breakfast Irene attended to the wants of her father, and by this
time the visiting doctor was manifesting impatience to be away. Other
fees were calling him, and he assured Doctor Hardy, what the latter
quite well knew, that nothing more could be done for him at present.
He would come again at any time if summoned by the young man, or if
his professional duties should bring him into the neighborhood of the
Elden ranch. But Dave declared with prompt finality that the horses
must rest until after noon, and the doctor, willy-nilly, spent the morning
rambling in the foothills. Meanwhile the girl busied herself with work
about the house, in which she was effecting a rapid transformation.
After the mid-day dinner Dave harnessed the team for the journey to
town, but before leaving inquired of Irene if there were any special
purchases, either personal or for the use of the house, which she would
recommend. With some diffidence she mentioned one that was
uppermost in her thoughts: soap, both laundry and toilet. Dr. Hardy had
no hesitation in calling for a box of his favorite cigars and some new
magazines, and took occasion to press into the boy's hand a bill out of
all proportion to the value of the supplies requested. There was an
argument in the yard, which the girl did not fully hear, between father
and son, but she gathered that the old man insisted on going to town,
and, failing that, that Dave should replenish his stock of whiskey, to
neither of which would the young man consent. It was evident that
Dave was the responsible person in the affairs of the Elden ranch.
The day was introductory to others that were to follow. Dave returned
the next afternoon, riding his own horse, and heavily laden with cigars,
magazines, soap, and with a soft little package which proved to be a
sponge, which he had bought on his own initiative, and which he
tendered to Irene. She took it with slowly rising color, and with a
strange misgiving whether this was a bona fide contribution to the toilet
equipment of the house, or a quiet satire designed to offset the effect of
the appeal for soap.
The following day it was decided that the automobile, which since the

accident had lain upturned by the roadway, should be brought to the
ranch buildings. Dave harnessed his team, and, instead of riding one of
the horses, walked behind, driving by the reins, and accompanied by
the girl, who had proclaimed her ability to steer the car. When they
reached the stream she hesitated, remembering her mishap, but the boy
slipped his unoccupied hand firmly under her arm, and they walked the
log in safety. It seemed to Irene that he continued his assistance when it
was no longer needed, but she accepted the courtesy without remark.
With the aid of the team and Dave's lariat the car was soon righted, and
was found to be none the worse for its deflection from the beaten track.
Irene presided at the steering wheel, watching the road with great
intentness, and turning the wheel too far on each occasion, which gave
to her course a somewhat wavy or undulating order, such as is found in
bread knives, or perhaps a better figure would be to compare it to that
rolling motion affected by fancy skaters. However, the mean of her
direction corresponded with the mean of the trail, and all went merrily
until the stream was approached. Here was a rather steep descent,