Mason of Bar X Ranch. Bennett Henry Holcomb
When they were outside she said:
“Daddy is down to the bunk-house. I have ordered Scotty to saddle Fleet and a horse for you; then we are going to see Dad, and I’ll have him introduce you to the boys.”
“Did you beat Scotty in yesterday?” he asked.
“Did I?” Josephine tossed her head proudly. “Outside of Bud Anderson’s horse, there isn’t one on the range that can overtake Fleet.”
“Who is Bud Anderson?” he queried, getting interested.
“Why, didn’t you know?” she asked in surprise. “Bud Anderson! he’s the foreman of our ranch, and Sheriff of this County. He taught me how to shoot and ride. I have known him ever since I can remember.”
“I do remember of Red telling about a foreman and Sheriff but he didn’t mention his name,” he answered vaguely.
“Here comes Scotty with our horses,” the girl cried, clapping her hands with glee.
Mason was a little stiff from being in the saddle the day before.
“I’m afraid I’ll prove a poor rider if I have to keep up with you, Miss Josephine,” he said dismally.
The girl gave him a swift look.
“We are going to have a nice little ride and I am going to teach you how to ride fast and shoot,” she declared with fine assurance.
Mason noticed for the first time that she carried in her belt a small Colt’s revolver. Scotty had come up with the horses and after greeting him they mounted and rode slowly to the bunk-house.
“Some of the boys are riding the range, Jack,” she explained as they dismounted at the door.
Putting a whistle to her lips she blew a long shrill note.
“Coming,” called a voice from within.
The door flew open and the ranch owner appeared.
“Daddy,” the girl began before he could speak, “I would like you to make Jack acquainted with the boys.”
“Jack, eh,” he said with a grin, winking at Mason.
The girl blushed and glanced reprovingly at her father.
The ranch owner stepped inside and called briskly,
“Tumble out here, boys, I want to make you acquainted with a friend of mine from New York.”
The men were soon lined up, and the ranch owner starting with the largest one of the lot, said, “Jack, this is my assistant foreman, Joe Turner.”
Then he named them in turn. Mason shook hands heartily with them all, but when he came to Carlo and Powers he took an instant dislike to them. Carlo had squinting eyes and his hand had a cold snaky feeling. Mason drew back in disgust and could hardly repress a shiver down his back.
The girl broke the tension by saying,
“Daddy, Jack and I are going to take a little ride.”
“Don’t make him tired of you the first day,” he warned her, nudging Mason in the ribs.
“That’s not nice of you, Daddy,” she called back to him as they rode off.
Mason noticed that Powers had a sneer on his face as Josephine rode past him, and it increased his dislike for the man. They had gotten well out of sight of the ranch buildings when the girl again spoke, “Jack, I am going to take you over some of our range land and in return you must tell me about New York and your folks. Also, may I ask, why did you get so confused when Daddy introduced me last night?”
“Why,” he countered, “did you rush into the house when you caught sight of me?”
“I didn’t want you to hear me calling Scotty down,” she replied demurely, “but you have not answered my question.”
“I was surprised to see you in such a pretty dress.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, her eyes opening wide, “do you think we are barbarians out here and don’t know how to dress?”
“No,” he answered lamely, “but I was pleasantly surprised with you.”
Josephine rode in silence.
“I don’t know if I am to take that for a compliment or not,” she said at last.
“I am sure I meant it for a compliment,” he interposed hastily.
“You have a ready tongue,” she laughed, “but be careful you don’t slip up.”
“How is it that I didn’t see this Bud Anderson you tell about?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, he’s away on business for Dad; we expect him back most any time now.”
They were riding at an easy canter and had covered about fifteen miles. Mason was gradually getting over his lameness of the day before. The air was bracing and spicy with the smell of sage brush. Far off down the valley he could see cattle grazing. It was his first view of a large herd. In the distance he could see the mountains with their lofty peaks looming up in majestic splendor. The grandeur of it all filled him with awe.
Josephine broke his reverie by saying, “Oh, I hope you will like it out here. Look! off there to the West is Devil’s Gap.”
“Devil’s Gap,” he repeated.
“Yes, come, we’ll ride out that way and I’ll tell you about it.”
Putting the spurs to his horse he tried to keep up with her.
“I am afraid you’re going too fast for me,” he called after her ruefully.
A silvery laugh floated back to him as she checked her horse to a slower pace. Her eyes were sparkling with mischief as he rode up to her.
“Forgive me, Sir Jack,” she said. “I forgot you are not used to the saddle.”
He looked keenly at her.
“I must appear an awful big dub in your eyes,” he said slowly.
He was thinking of the poor comparison he would make if Bud Anderson was along. A severe look came into Josephine’s face.
“If you think I feel that way,” she said gravely, “we’ll go back to the ranch.”
He laughed boyishly.
“Let’s not quarrel, you said we would ride out to this Devil’s Gap and you promised to tell me the story of it.”
“Please set the pace, but not too fast,” he added with mock seriousness.
“I said we would ride out that way,” Josephine corrected him. She was smiling now.
“Here’s a girl I can’t fathom,” admitted Mason to himself.
“I am waiting to hear that story, Josephine,” he said, coming back to the subject.
“Devil’s Gap,” she began, “is an opening in that ridge of mountains you see ahead of us. It leads up a winding trail to a plateau that joins another ridge. About a year ago a band of lawless outlaws and ex-cowboys had been operating around these parts. They were led by a desperado named Banty Hayes; he’s a cousin to the man who owns the Ricker ranch. It touches our boundary line where you saw our cattle grazing – ”
“Yes,” cut in Mason, “Red told me about this man Ricker. He says your foreman thinks he is running your cattle over the line. He also spoke about Powers trying to get fresh with you.”
“I wouldn’t put it past Powers to steal Dad’s cattle,” the girl resumed, “and as for Tom Powers, he is a sneak. But I am getting away from my story. This gang numbered about six members and they had been terrorizing the miners and ranch owners for miles around. The last hold-up they pulled off was at the little station four miles south of Trader’s Post. They held up the midnight through train, and ordered the express messenger to open the safe. He refused and they shot and killed him. It caused great excitement among the cattlemen, and the Railroad Company offered a large reward for their capture.
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