章节正文
decree. Many's the time he had followed girls and
men warily through brush-fringed gullies and over
picturesque ridges, for the entertainment of shop girls
and their escorts sitting in darkened theaters and
watching breathlessly the wicked deeds of Gilbert James
Huntley.
But in his everyday life, Gil Huntley was very good-
looking, very good-natured, and very harmless. His
position and his salary as "heavy" in the Great Western
Company he owed chiefly to his good acting and his
thick eyebrows and his facility for making himself look
treacherous and mean. He followed Jean because the
boss told him to do so, in the first place. In the
second place, he followed her because he was even more
interested in her than his director had been, and he
hoped to have a chance to talk with her. In his work-
aday life, Gil Huntley was quite accustomed to being
discovered in some villainy, and to having some man or
woman point a gun at him with more or less antagonism
in voice and manner. But he had never in his
life had a girl ride up and "throw down on him"
with a gun, actually believing him to be a thief and a
scoundrel whom she would shoot if she thought it
necessary. There was a difference. Gil did not take the
time or trouble to analyze the difference, but he knew
that he was glad the boss had not sent Johnny or Bill
in his place. He did not believe that either of them
would have enough sense to see the difference, and they
might offend her in some way,--though Gil Huntley
need not have worried in the least over any man's
treatment of Jean, who was eminently qualified to attend to
that for herself.
He grinned when he saw her turn the cattle loose
down the very next coulee and with a final flip of her
rope loop toward the hindermost cow, ride on without
them. He should have ridden in haste then to tell
Robert Grant Burns that the cattle could be brought
back in twenty minutes or so and the picture-making
go on as planned. It was not likely that the girl would
come back; they could go on with their work and get
permission from the girl's uncle afterward. But he
did not turn and hurry back. Instead, he waited
behind a rock-huddle until Jean was well out of sight,--
and while he waited, he took his handkerchief and
rubbed hard at the make-up on his face, which had
made him look sinister and boldly bad. Without mirror
or cold cream, he was not very successful, so that
he rode on somewhat spotted in appearance and looking
even more sinister than before. But he was much
more comfortable in his mind, which meant a good deal
in the interview which he hoped by some means to bring
about.
With Jean a couple of hundred yards in advance,
they crossed a little flat so bare of concealment that
Gil Huntley was worried for fear she might look back
and discover him. But she did not turn her head, and
he rode on more confidently. At the mouth of Lazy
A coulee, just where stood the cluster of huge rocks
that had at one time come hurtling down from the
higher slopes, and the clump of currant bushes beneath
which Jean used to hide her much-despised saddle
when she was a child, she disappeared from view. Gil,
knowing very little of the ways of the range folk, and
less of the country, kicked his horse into a swifter pace
and galloped after her.
Fifty yards beyond the currant bushes he heard a
sound and looked back; and there was Jean, riding out
from her hiding-place, and coming after him almost at
a run. While he was trying to decide what to do about
it, she overtook him; rather, the wide loop of her rope
overtook him. He ducked, but the loop settled over
his head and shoulders and pulled tight about the chest.
Jean took two turns of the rope around the saddle horn
and then looked him over critically. In spite of herself,
she smiled a little at his face, streaked still with
grease paint, and at his eyes staring at her from between
heavily penciled lids.
"That's what you get for following," she said, after
a minute of staring at each other. "Did you think
I didn't know you were trailing along behind me? I
saw you before I turned the cattle loose, but I just let
you think you were being real sly and cunning about
it. You did it in real moving-picture style; did your
fat Mr. Robert Grant Burns teach you how? What is
the idea, anyway? Were you going to abduct me and
lead me to the swarthy chief of your gang, or band, or
whatever you call it?"
Having scored a point against him and so put herself
into a good humor again, Jean laughed at him and
twitched the rope, just to remind him that he was at
her mercy. To be haughtilyindignant with this honest-
eyed, embarrassed young fellow with the streaky
face and heavily-penciled eyelids was out of the
question. The wind caught his high, peaked-crowned
sombrero and sent it sailing like a great, flapping bird to
the ground, and he could not catch it because Jean had
his arms pinioned with the loop.
She laughed again and rode over to where the hat
had lodged. Gil Huntley, to save himself from being
dragged ignominiously from the saddle, kicked his horse
and kept pace with her. Jean leaned far over and picked
up the hat, and examined it with amusement.
"If you could just live up to your hat, my, wouldn't
you be a villain, though!" she commented, in a soft,
drawling voice. "You don't look so terribly blood-
thirsty without it; I just guess I'd better keep it for
a while. It would make a dandy waste-basket. Do
you know, if your face were clean, I think you'd look
almost human,--for an outlaw."
She started on up the trail, nonchalantly leading her
captive by the rope. Gil Huntley could have wriggled
an arm loose and freed himself, but he did not. He
wanted to see what she was going to do with him. He
grinned when she had her back turned toward him, but
he did not say anything for fear of spoiling the joke
or offending her in some way. So presently Jean began
to feel silly, and the joke lost its point and seemed inane
and weak.
She turned back, threw off the loop that bound
his arms to his sides, and coiled the rope. "I wish
you play-acting people would keep out of the country,"
she said impatiently. "Twice you've made me act
ridiculous. I don't know what in the world you wanted
to follow me for,--and I don't care. Whatever it was,
it isn't going to do you one particle of good, so you
needn't go on doing it."
She looked at him full, refused to meet half-way the
friendliness of his eyes, tossed the hat toward him, and
wheeled her horse away. "Good-by," she said shortly,
and touched Pard with the spurs. She was out of
hearing before Gil Huntley could think of the right
thing to say, and she increased the distance between
them so rapidly that before he had quite recovered from
his surprise at her sudden change of mood, she was so
far away that he could not have overtaken her if he had
tried.
He watched her out of sight and rode back to where
Burns mouthed a big, black cigar, and paced up and
down the level space where he had set the interrupted
scene, and waited his coming.
"Rode away from you, did she? Where'd she take
the cattle to? Left 'em in the next gulch? Well, why
didn't you say so? You boys can bring 'em back, and
we'll get to work again. Where'd you say that spring
was, Gil? We'll eat before we do anything else. One
thing about this blamed country is we don't have to be
afraid of the light. Got to hand it to 'em for having
plenty of good, clear sunlight, anyway?"
He followed Gil to the feeble spring that seeped from
under a huge boulder, and stooped uncomfortably to
fill a tin cup. While he waited for the trickle to yield
him a drink, he cocked his head sidewise and looked up
quizzically at his "heavy."
"You must have come within speaking distance,
Gil," he guessed shrewdly. "Got any make-up along?
You look like a mild case of the measles, right now.
What did she have to say, anyhow?"
"Nothing," said Gil shortly. "I didn't talk to her
at all. I didn't want to run my horse to death trying
to say hello when she didn't want it that way."
"Huh!" grunted Robert Grant Burns unbelievingly,
and fished a bit of grass out of the cup with his little
finger. He drank and said no more.
CHAPTER VII
ROBERT GRANT BURNS GETS HELP
"You know the brand, don't you?" the proprietor
of the hotel which housed the Great Western
Company asked, with the tolerant air which the
sophisticated wear when confronted by ignorance. "Easy
enough to locate the outfit, by the cattle brand. What
was it?"
Whereupon Robert Grant Burns rolled his eyes
helplessly toward Gil Huntley. "I noticed it at the time,
but--what was that brand, Gil?"
And Gil, if you would believe me, did not remember,
either. He had driven the cattle half a mile or more,
had helped to "steal" two calves out of the little herd,
and yet he could not recall the mark of their owner.
So the proprietor of the hotel, an old cowman who
had sold out and gone into the hotel business when the
barbed-wire came by carloads into the country, pulled
a newspaper towards him, borrowed a pencil from
Burns, and sketched all the cattle brands in that
part of the country. While he drew one after the
other, he did a little thinking.
"Must have been the Bar Nothing, or else the Lazy
A cattle you got hold of," he concluded, pointing to
the pencil marks on the margin of the paper. "They
range down in there, and Jean Douglas answers your
description of the girl,--as far as looks go. She ain't
all that wild and dangerous, though. Swing a loop
with any man in the country and ride and all that,--
been raised right out there on the Lazy A. Say! Why
don't you go out and see Carl Douglas, and see if you
can't get the use of the Lazy A for your pictures?
Seems to me that's just the kinda place you want.
Don't anybody live there now. It's been left alone ever
since--the trouble out there. House and barns and
corrals,--everything you want." He leaned closer
with a confidential tone creeping into his voice, for
Robert Grant Burns and his company were profitable
men warily through brush-fringed gullies and over
picturesque ridges, for the entertainment of shop girls
and their escorts sitting in darkened theaters and
watching breathlessly the wicked deeds of Gilbert James
Huntley.
But in his everyday life, Gil Huntley was very good-
looking, very good-natured, and very harmless. His
position and his salary as "heavy" in the Great Western
Company he owed chiefly to his good acting and his
thick eyebrows and his facility for making himself look
treacherous and mean. He followed Jean because the
boss told him to do so, in the first place. In the
second place, he followed her because he was even more
interested in her than his director had been, and he
hoped to have a chance to talk with her. In his work-
aday life, Gil Huntley was quite accustomed to being
discovered in some villainy, and to having some man or
woman point a gun at him with more or less antagonism
in voice and manner. But he had never in his
life had a girl ride up and "throw down on him"
with a gun, actually believing him to be a thief and a
scoundrel whom she would shoot if she thought it
necessary. There was a difference. Gil did not take the
time or trouble to analyze the difference, but he knew
that he was glad the boss had not sent Johnny or Bill
in his place. He did not believe that either of them
would have enough sense to see the difference, and they
might offend her in some way,--though Gil Huntley
need not have worried in the least over any man's
treatment of Jean, who was eminently qualified to attend to
that for herself.
He grinned when he saw her turn the cattle loose
down the very next coulee and with a final flip of her
rope loop toward the hindermost cow, ride on without
them. He should have ridden in haste then to tell
Robert Grant Burns that the cattle could be brought
back in twenty minutes or so and the picture-making
go on as planned. It was not likely that the girl would
come back; they could go on with their work and get
permission from the girl's uncle afterward. But he
did not turn and hurry back. Instead, he waited
behind a rock-huddle until Jean was well out of sight,--
and while he waited, he took his handkerchief and
rubbed hard at the make-up on his face, which had
made him look sinister and boldly bad. Without mirror
or cold cream, he was not very successful, so that
he rode on somewhat spotted in appearance and looking
even more sinister than before. But he was much
more comfortable in his mind, which meant a good deal
in the interview which he hoped by some means to bring
about.
With Jean a couple of hundred yards in advance,
they crossed a little flat so bare of concealment that
Gil Huntley was worried for fear she might look back
and discover him. But she did not turn her head, and
he rode on more confidently. At the mouth of Lazy
A coulee, just where stood the cluster of huge rocks
that had at one time come hurtling down from the
higher slopes, and the clump of currant bushes beneath
which Jean used to hide her much-despised saddle
when she was a child, she disappeared from view. Gil,
knowing very little of the ways of the range folk, and
less of the country, kicked his horse into a swifter pace
and galloped after her.
Fifty yards beyond the currant bushes he heard a
sound and looked back; and there was Jean, riding out
from her hiding-place, and coming after him almost at
a run. While he was trying to decide what to do about
it, she overtook him; rather, the wide loop of her rope
overtook him. He ducked, but the loop settled over
his head and shoulders and pulled tight about the chest.
Jean took two turns of the rope around the saddle horn
and then looked him over critically. In spite of herself,
she smiled a little at his face, streaked still with
grease paint, and at his eyes staring at her from between
heavily penciled lids.
"That's what you get for following," she said, after
a minute of staring at each other. "Did you think
I didn't know you were trailing along behind me? I
saw you before I turned the cattle loose, but I just let
you think you were being real sly and cunning about
it. You did it in real moving-picture style; did your
fat Mr. Robert Grant Burns teach you how? What is
the idea, anyway? Were you going to abduct me and
lead me to the swarthy chief of your gang, or band, or
whatever you call it?"
Having scored a point against him and so put herself
into a good humor again, Jean laughed at him and
twitched the rope, just to remind him that he was at
her mercy. To be haughtilyindignant with this honest-
eyed, embarrassed young fellow with the streaky
face and heavily-penciled eyelids was out of the
question. The wind caught his high, peaked-crowned
sombrero and sent it sailing like a great, flapping bird to
the ground, and he could not catch it because Jean had
his arms pinioned with the loop.
She laughed again and rode over to where the hat
had lodged. Gil Huntley, to save himself from being
dragged ignominiously from the saddle, kicked his horse
and kept pace with her. Jean leaned far over and picked
up the hat, and examined it with amusement.
"If you could just live up to your hat, my, wouldn't
you be a villain, though!" she commented, in a soft,
drawling voice. "You don't look so terribly blood-
thirsty without it; I just guess I'd better keep it for
a while. It would make a dandy waste-basket. Do
you know, if your face were clean, I think you'd look
almost human,--for an outlaw."
She started on up the trail, nonchalantly leading her
captive by the rope. Gil Huntley could have wriggled
an arm loose and freed himself, but he did not. He
wanted to see what she was going to do with him. He
grinned when she had her back turned toward him, but
he did not say anything for fear of spoiling the joke
or offending her in some way. So presently Jean began
to feel silly, and the joke lost its point and seemed inane
and weak.
She turned back, threw off the loop that bound
his arms to his sides, and coiled the rope. "I wish
you play-acting people would keep out of the country,"
she said impatiently. "Twice you've made me act
ridiculous. I don't know what in the world you wanted
to follow me for,--and I don't care. Whatever it was,
it isn't going to do you one particle of good, so you
needn't go on doing it."
She looked at him full, refused to meet half-way the
friendliness of his eyes, tossed the hat toward him, and
wheeled her horse away. "Good-by," she said shortly,
and touched Pard with the spurs. She was out of
hearing before Gil Huntley could think of the right
thing to say, and she increased the distance between
them so rapidly that before he had quite recovered from
his surprise at her sudden change of mood, she was so
far away that he could not have overtaken her if he had
tried.
He watched her out of sight and rode back to where
Burns mouthed a big, black cigar, and paced up and
down the level space where he had set the interrupted
scene, and waited his coming.
"Rode away from you, did she? Where'd she take
the cattle to? Left 'em in the next gulch? Well, why
didn't you say so? You boys can bring 'em back, and
we'll get to work again. Where'd you say that spring
was, Gil? We'll eat before we do anything else. One
thing about this blamed country is we don't have to be
afraid of the light. Got to hand it to 'em for having
plenty of good, clear sunlight, anyway?"
He followed Gil to the feeble spring that seeped from
under a huge boulder, and stooped uncomfortably to
fill a tin cup. While he waited for the trickle to yield
him a drink, he cocked his head sidewise and looked up
quizzically at his "heavy."
"You must have come within speaking distance,
Gil," he guessed shrewdly. "Got any make-up along?
You look like a mild case of the measles, right now.
What did she have to say, anyhow?"
"Nothing," said Gil shortly. "I didn't talk to her
at all. I didn't want to run my horse to death trying
to say hello when she didn't want it that way."
"Huh!" grunted Robert Grant Burns unbelievingly,
and fished a bit of grass out of the cup with his little
finger. He drank and said no more.
CHAPTER VII
ROBERT GRANT BURNS GETS HELP
"You know the brand, don't you?" the proprietor
of the hotel which housed the Great Western
Company asked, with the tolerant air which the
sophisticated wear when confronted by ignorance. "Easy
enough to locate the outfit, by the cattle brand. What
was it?"
Whereupon Robert Grant Burns rolled his eyes
helplessly toward Gil Huntley. "I noticed it at the time,
but--what was that brand, Gil?"
And Gil, if you would believe me, did not remember,
either. He had driven the cattle half a mile or more,
had helped to "steal" two calves out of the little herd,
and yet he could not recall the mark of their owner.
So the proprietor of the hotel, an old cowman who
had sold out and gone into the hotel business when the
barbed-wire came by carloads into the country, pulled
a newspaper towards him, borrowed a pencil from
Burns, and sketched all the cattle brands in that
part of the country. While he drew one after the
other, he did a little thinking.
"Must have been the Bar Nothing, or else the Lazy
A cattle you got hold of," he concluded, pointing to
the pencil marks on the margin of the paper. "They
range down in there, and Jean Douglas answers your
description of the girl,--as far as looks go. She ain't
all that wild and dangerous, though. Swing a loop
with any man in the country and ride and all that,--
been raised right out there on the Lazy A. Say! Why
don't you go out and see Carl Douglas, and see if you
can't get the use of the Lazy A for your pictures?
Seems to me that's just the kinda place you want.
Don't anybody live there now. It's been left alone ever
since--the trouble out there. House and barns and
corrals,--everything you want." He leaned closer
with a confidential tone creeping into his voice, for
Robert Grant Burns and his company were profitable
- decree [di´kri:]
n.法令；公告；天命 (初中英语单词) - entertainment [,entə´teinmənt] n.招(款)待；联欢会 (初中英语单词)
- wicked [´wikid] a.邪恶的；不道德的 (初中英语单词)
- chiefly [´tʃi:fli] ad.主要地；尤其 (初中英语单词)
- acting [´æktiŋ] a.代理的 n.演戏 (初中英语单词)
- facility [fə´siliti] n.容易；熟练；灵巧 (初中英语单词)
- director [di´rektə] n.指导者；....长；导演 (初中英语单词)
- actually [´æktʃuəli] ad.事实上；实际上 (初中英语单词)
- offend [ə´fend] v.犯错误；违犯；犯罪 (初中英语单词)
- handkerchief [´hæŋkətʃif] n.手帕，手绢 (初中英语单词)
- interview [´intəvju:] n.&vt.接见；会见；交谈 (初中英语单词)
- cluster [´klʌstə] n.一串 v.群集；丛生 (初中英语单词)
- saddle [´sædl] n.鞍子 v.装鞍(于) (初中英语单词)
- cunning [´kʌniŋ] a.&n.狡猾(诡诈)的 (初中英语单词)
- remind [ri´maind] vt.提醒；使记(想)起 (初中英语单词)
- terribly [´terəbli] ad.可怕地 (初中英语单词)
- presently [´prezəntli] ad.不久；目前 (初中英语单词)
- whatever [wɔt´evə] pron.&a.无论什么 (初中英语单词)
- sunlight [´sʌnlait] n.日光 (初中英语单词)
- feeble [´fi:bəl] a.虚弱的，无力的 (初中英语单词)
- shortly [´ʃɔ:tli] ad.立刻，马上；不久 (初中英语单词)
- ignorance [´ignərəns] n.无知，愚昧 (初中英语单词)
- driven [´driv(ə)n] drive 的过去分词 (初中英语单词)
- everyday [´evridei] a.每日的，日常的 (高中英语单词)
- harmless [´hɑ:mləs] a.无害的，无恶意的 (高中英语单词)
- boldly [´bəuldli] ad.大胆地；醒目地 (高中英语单词)
- particle [´pɑ:tikl] n.微粒；极小量 (高中英语单词)
- half-way [´hɑ:fwei] ad.半途；几乎 (高中英语单词)
- outfit [´aut,fit] n.装备 vt.供给；装备 (高中英语单词)
- proprietor [prə´praiətə] n.所有人；业主；经营者 (高中英语单词)
- margin [´mɑ:dʒin] n.边缘；空白；余地 (高中英语单词)
- profitable [´prɔfitəbəl] a.有益的；有用的 (高中英语单词)
- breathlessly [´breθlisli] ad.气喘吁吁地 (英语四级单词)
- good-natured [´gud-´neitʃəd] a.脾气好的，温厚的 (英语四级单词)
- ridden [´ridn] ride 的过去分词 (英语四级单词)
- make-up [´meikʌp] n.构成；性格；虚构 (英语四级单词)
- sinister [´sinistə] a.阴险的；不吉的 (英语四级单词)
- currant [´kʌrənt] n.无核葡萄干 (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- overtook [,əuvə´tuk] overtake的过去式 (英语四级单词)
- indignant [in´dignənt] a.义愤的，愤慨的 (英语四级单词)
- villain [´vilən] n.坏人；恶棍；反面角色 (英语四级单词)
- impatiently [im´peiʃəntli] ad.不耐烦地，急躁地 (英语四级单词)
- boulder [´bəuldə] n.大石头，卵石；巨砾 (英语四级单词)
- trickle [´trikəl] v.滴下 n.点滴；细流 (英语四级单词)
- calves [kɑ:vz] calf的复数 (英语四级单词)
- confidential [,kɔnfi´denʃəl] a.极受信任的；心腹的 (英语四级单词)
- concealment [kən´si:lmənt] n.隐藏，隐瞒 (英语六级单词)
- confidently [´kɔnfidəntli] ad.有信心地；自信地 (英语六级单词)
- swarthy [´swɔ:ði] a.黑皮肤的，黝黑的 (英语六级单词)
- haughtily [´hɔ:tili] ad.傲慢地，高傲地 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
- tolerant [´tɔlərənt] a.宽容的，宽大的 (英语六级单词)
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