Dug McFarlane was a picturesque1 creature. He was big in height and girth. He was also big in mind. And, which was much more important to the people of the Orrville ranching2 world, big in purse. He was grizzled and gray, and his eyes beamed out of a setting which was surely made for such beaming; a setting which possessed3 no sharp angles or disfiguring hollows, but only the healthy tissue of a well-nourished and wholesome-living man in middle life.
As he sat his horse, beside his station foreman, gazing out at the broken line of foothills which marked the approach to the barrier of mountains cutting against the blue, he seemed to display in his bearing something of that dominating personality which few successful men are entirely5 without. All about them lay the heavy-railed corrals of a distant out-station. Just behind stood the rough shanty7, which was the bunkhouse for the cowhands employed in this region. The doctor was still within, tending the grievously injured man who had been so badly wounded in the previous night's raid by the rustlers.
For the time Dug's beaming eyes were shadowed with a concern that was half angry and wholly depressed9. They searched the rolling grass-land until the distance was swallowed up by the barrier of hills. He was seeking one reassuring10 glimpse of the black, hornless herd11 whose pastures these were. But only disappointment met him on every side. The beautiful, sleek12, Aberdeen-Angus herd, which was his joy and pride, had vanished. They had gone, he knew. They had gone the same way that, during the last five years, hundreds of head of his stock had gone. It was the last straw.
"Say, Lew Hank," he said, in a voice of something approaching an emotion he possessed no other means of displaying, "it's beat me bad. It's beat me so bad I don't seem able to think right. We'd a hundred head running on this station. As fine a bunch as ever were bred from the old country's strain. I just feel that mad I could set right in to break things."
Then, after a long pause during which the station foreman waited silent:
"And only last night, while these guys was raising the mischief13 right here, I was setting around doping out big talk, and raising a mighty14 big wad for the round-up of the whole darnation gang. Can you beat it? I'm sore. Sore as hell. Say, tell it me again. I don't seem to have it clear."
He passed one great muscular hand across his moist forehead, and the gesture was rather one of helplessness.
Lew Hank regarded him with measuring eyes. He knew him so well. In the ten years and more he had worked for him he had studied his every mood. This phase in the great cattleman's character was something new, something rather startling. Dug's way was usually volcanic15. It was hot and fierce for a while, generally to hollowed by a hearty16 laugh, rather like the passing of a summer storm. But this, in Lew's opinion, was a display of weakness. A sign he neither liked nor respected. The truth was Dug McFarlane had been hit in a direction of which his subordinate had no understanding. That herd of Aberdeen-Angus cattle had been his plaything. His hobby. He had been devoted18 to it in a way that would have been absurd to any one but a cattleman. Hank decided19 this unaccustomed weakness must be nipped in the bud.
"Say, boss, it ain't no use in squealin'," he grumbled20, in the hard tones of a man who yields to no feelings of sympathy. His weather-stained face was set and ugly in its expression. "Wher's the use in it anyway?" he demanded. "Get a look around. There's miles of territory, an' all of it runs into them blamed hills. I got three boys with me. They're right boys, too. I don't guess there's a thing you or me could tell 'em 'bout6 their work. Not a thing. Day and night one of 'em's on grazin' guard. Them beasties ain't never left to trail off into the hills. Wal, I guess that's all we ken4 do--sure. Say, you can't hold up a gang of ten an' more toughs with a single gun in the dead, o' night, 'specially21 with a hole in your guts22 same as young Syme's had bored into his. I ain't ast once, nor twice, to hev them beasties run into the corrals o' nights, and fed hay, same as in winter. I've ast it fifty times. It's bin23 up to you, boss. So I say it's no use in squealin'."
Hank spat24 over his horse's shoulder, and his thin lips closed with a snap. He was a lean forceful prairieman who possessed, as he would himself have said, no parlor25 tricks. Dug McFarlane, for all his wealth, for all he had been elected president of the Western Union Cattle Breeders' Association three years in succession, was no more to him than any other employer who paid wages for work loyally performed.
Dug regarded his foreman with close attention. He ignored the man's rough manner. But, nevertheless, it was not without effect.
"And the other boys?"
"Was dead asleep in the bunkhouse--same as me. What 'ud you have? They ain't sheep dogs."
"And they're out on the trail--right now?"
"Sure. Same as we should be, 'stead o' wastin' hot air around here. Say, I guess you're feelin' sore. But I don't guess your feelin's is a circumstance to mine, boss. You ain't bin beat to your face by this lousy gang. I have. An' say, I'm yearnin'--jest gaspin'--to wipe out the score. I don't sort o' care a bit for your loss. That ain't my funeral. But they've beat me plumb27 out--same as if I was some sucker who ain't never roped an' branded a three-year-old steer28 since I was pupped. Are you comin' along? They struck out northwest. We got that, an' the boys is follerin' hard on their trail. It'll be better'n squealin' around here."
There could be no doubt about the man's feelings. They were displayed in every word he spoke29. In every glance of his fierce eyes. Dug approved him. His manners were nothing. Lew was probably the most capable cattleman in his service.
He was about to follow his foreman who had swung his horse about to set off northward30, when he abruptly31 flung out an arm, pointing.
"That one of your boys--coming in? Maybe----"
Lew screwed up his eyes in the sunlight. His rep came in a moment.
"Maybe--nuthin'. That ain't one of my boys." Then, after a brief, considering pause, in which he narrowly examined the distant horseman's outfit32: "Sort o' rec'nize him, too. Likely he's that bum33 guy with the dandy wife way up on Butte Creek34. Whitstone, ain't it? Feller with swell35 folks way down east, an' who guesses the on'y sort o' farmin' worth a cuss is done in Ju Penrose's saloon. That's him sure," he added, as the man drew nearer. Then he went on musingly36. "I guess he's got a lot to dope out. Say, them guys must have passed near by his shanty."
Bob Whitstone reined37 his pony38 up with a jerk. He was on a mission that inspired no other emotion than that of repulsion and self-loathing. And these things found reflection in his good-looking face.
He glanced swiftly from one to the other as he confronted the burly rancher and his station foreman. The latter he did not know, nor was he interested in him. The man he had come to see was Dug McFarlane, who claimed from him, as he did from every man in the district, something in the nature of respect.
"Guess you'll remember me, sir," he began, in his easy, refined tones. "My name is Whitstone--Bob Whitstone. You granted me certain grazing rights awhile back. It was some two years ago. Maybe you'll remember. You did it to help me out. Anyway, I came over to see you this morning because--I must. If you can spare half an hour I want to see you privately39. It's--important. You've been robbed last night, and--it's about them. The gang, I mean."
His pony was still blowing. Bob had ridden hard. He had first ridden into Orrville, and then followed the rancher out here. He was leaning over in the saddle lounging upon the horn of it. His eyes were gazing curiously40, speculatively42 at the figure of the man who ruled the local cattle industry. He was calculating in his own way what might be the effect of the news he had to impart. What estimate this big man--and Bob knew him to be a big man--would have of him when he had told his news and claimed the--blood money? With each moment he shrank smaller and smaller in his own estimation.
"You've got news of them?"
Bob nodded, and glanced meaningly in the direction of Lew Hank.
"I've seen 'em. But--it's more than that."
The rancher turned quickly upon his foreman.
"Say, just get along into the shack44 there, and see how the Doc's making with young Syme. I need a talk with Whitstone."
It was not without obvious and resentful reluctance45 that Lew Hank withdrew. Even his hardihood, however, was unequal to resisting so direct an order from his chief.
The two men watched him out of earshot. Then Dug, with almost precipitate46 haste, turned back to his visitor.
"Now, sir, I'm ready to hear anything you need to tell me."
But Bob was thinking of Ju Penrose as he had thought of him many times since he had listened and yielded to Effie's appeal. Every man has his price. Bob knew now that he, like the rest, had his price. That price a woman had set for him. Ju was right--hatefully right. Well, he would now refuse to be robbed of one cent of it.
He looked up sharply as the other made his demand.
"You're offering ten thousand dollars reward for the| capture of the Lightfoot gang, Mr. McFarlane?"
"That's so."
The rancher's regard had deepened. There was a curious light shining in his blue eyes. It was half speculative41, half suggestive of growing excitement. It was wholly full of a burning interest.
"Say, I'd just like to know how I stand." Bob laughed that short hard laugh which bears no trace of mirth. "You see, I can put you wise. I can lead you right on to their camp so you can get 'em--while they're sleeping, or any other old way. Oh, yes, I'm ready to play my part right up to the limit. It don't matter a thing. I'm not just here to tell you about things. I'm here to lead you to that camp, and take a hand in the hanging when you get busy. You see, I'm a whole hogger48. But I want to know how things stand about that ten thousand dollar reward. Do I get it? If I get shot up does my wife get it? And when it's paid, do you shout about it? Does the gang down Orrville way need to know who it was they forgot to hand the name of Judas to when he was christened? I don't care a cuss on my own account. It's----"
But Dug McFarlane broke in upon the bitter raillery. He had no thought for the man or his feelings, just for one moment it seemed to him that some sort of miracle had happened. And his every thought and feeling was absorbed in it. Here, after five years of vain effort, here, after five years of depredations49 which had almost threatened the cattle industry in the district with complete crippling, here was a man who could lead them to the raiders' hiding-place, could show them how the hanging they all so cordially desired could be brought about. It was stupendous. It was--yes, it was miraculous50.
His first impulse had been to give way to the excitement which stirred him, but he restrained himself.
"Ten thousand dollars will be paid by me to the man, or his nominee51, privately, if his information leads to the hanging of this gang. Say, boy, we ain't goin' to split hairs or play any low games on this lay out. I'm a rich man, an' ten thousand dollars ain't a circumstance so we break up this gang. If we only get one of 'em or part of 'em, the man who shows me their hiding-place, and leads me to it, that man--or his wife--gets my ten thousand dollars. You can have it in writing. But my word goes any old time. Now you can get busy and hand me the proposition."
The steady eyes, the emphatic52 tones of this big, straight-dealing rancher silenced the last doubt in Bob's lesser53 mind. He was out to do this dirty work with all his might in the interest of the woman who had inspired it. But he had scarcely been prepared for such simple methods as this man displayed. He had felt that it was for him to barter54, to scheme, to secure the dollars Effie coveted55. A deep sigh escaped him. It may have been relief. It may have been of regret that he must stand before so straight-dealing a personality claiming his thirty pieces of silver.
He passed one hand across his perspiring56 brow and thrust his prairie hat farther back upon his head. He would have preferred, however, to have drawn57 it down over his eyes to escape the searching gaze from the honest depths of the other's. Suddenly, with a gesture of impatience58, he began to talk rapidly.
"It's no use, Mr. McFarlane, I hate this rotten work," he cried out. "I--I hate it so bad I could just rather bite my tongue out than tell you the things I've got to. It's rotten. I don't know---- Say, you don't know me, and I don't guess you care a curse anyway. But I was brought up in a city and taught to believe things were a deal better than I've lately come to think they are. Psha! These fellers have got to be hanged when and where we get them. But it hurts me bad to think that I've got to take dollars for handing you their lives. Oh, that don't tell you a thing either. You'd say I don't need to take 'em. But I do. I got to take those dollars, if they blister59 my hands and burn the bones inside 'em. I've got to have 'em, and I'd like to burn 'em, every blazing one. But I've got to have 'em. Say, I'll be paid on the nail when the job's done? If I get shot up the money'll be paid to my wife? Will you give me your word, sir? Your word of honor?"
"My word of honor."
"Say, then come right back with me to my shanty no, best not. We'll ride back to Orrville, and I'll hand you all I know as we go. I can quit you before we reach the township. Then you can hustle60 the crowd together and I'll be waiting ready at my shack to play my part--the dirty rotten Judas racket."
"Judas betrayed his--Master and Friend. Are these people your friends? Is Lightfoot your master?"
"Then quit your crazy talk of Judas. Your duty's plumb clear. Your duty's to hand these folks, these bandits, into our hands. The money's a matter of--choice. I'll just hand my man a word or two, and we'll get back Orrville way."
* * * * * *
It was past midnight when Bob took up a position squatting61 on the sill of his own doorway62. Standing17 close behind him, leaning against the rough casing, Effie looked down upon his huddled63 figure. Her eyes were alight with a power of suppressed excitement. The blood was surging through her young veins64, and every nerve was tense with the strain of waiting, of anticipation65.
But her emotions were by no means shared by her husband. For all her beauty and woman's charm she was different, utterly66 different from him. She had been brought up to the understanding that she would have to make her own way in the world. All her parents had been able to do for her was to see that she was as fully47 equipped for the adventure of life as their limited means would permit. Those means would die when her chief parent died, and the style in which they had lived left no margin67 for saving.
So, with cool calculation, Effie had set about her life's effort. Nor had she considered herself unsuccessful in the first spreading of her maiden68 wings. A millionaire's son! It was a splendid match. It had met with the entire approval of her family.
Then had come disillusionment. A determined69 opposition70 from Bob's father. She had been urged to break off the engagement. She even intended to do so. But some how she had miscalculated the nature which her education had been powerless to eradicate71. She realized at last when the demands of her campaign made themselves heard, that there was something she had hitherto completely ignored. There was the woman's heart of her. She had most absurdly fallen in love with this first stepping-stone toward the goal of her ambition. It was the absurd uncalculating love of extreme youth. But it was sufficiently72 impetuous to flout73 all the reason which her training and upbringing had been calculated to inspire her with.
The rest followed in natural sequence, and now, after two years of married penury74, she was ready to seize any straw which chance flung in her way as a means of salving that ambition which she now saw, with more perfectly75 clear vision, was completely upon the rocks.
Now, in her mind, there were only three matters of concern. Would Dug McFarlane come? Would they succeed in capturing this Lightfoot gang? Would she get those ten thousand dollars, which appeared so vast a sum to eyes only accustomed to dwelling76 upon cents?
Bob was silent. His whole aspect seemed to have undergone a complete changes. He had returned to her with the story of his interview with Dug McFarlane. He had returned to her with the assurance that he had sold his conscience, his honor, at her bidding, and he hoped she was satisfied. Since then he had wrapped himself in a moody77 silence which had defied her utmost effort to break down.
The horses stood ready saddled in the barn. Effie was clad in her riding suit. As yet the moon had not risen to reduce the starlit magnificence of the velvet78 summer night sky. Nor was there any sound to warn them that the hours of suspense79 were nearly over.
Finally, Effie could endure the silence no longer. Her dark eyes were intently gazing down upon the bowed figure of the man. They were hard with every bitter woman's emotion. She was full of a fierce, hot resentment80 against the man who could so obstinately81 resist the spirit of her longing82.
"Bob," she cried at last, all restraint completely giving way, "do you know what I could do just now more willingly than anything else in the world? I could thrust out my foot and spurn83 you with it as you might any surly cur which barred your way. I tell you I'm hot with every feeling of contempt for your crazy attitude. You dare to set yourself and your moral scruples84 between my welfare and the miserable85 life you've condemned86 me to. Your moral scruples. Were there ever such things? Morals? Ju Penrose's saloon day and night--for you. The sluttish drudgery87 of this wretched place for me. Then you dare to place your conscience before my--comfort."
"Do I?"
The man did not look up. His brooding eyes were on the sky-line to the southeast.
"I've done as you needed. I've arranged everything with the--hangman. You're going to touch those pleasant dollars. What more are you asking me?"
"What more? Yes, you've done these things because I've driven you to them. You? You'd rather see me sitting around here starving, a worn wreck88 of a woman, than lend a willing hand to bettering our lot. Oh, yes, you've done these things, and--I hate you for the way you've done them."
The man sat up. He shifted his position so that he could gaze up at the splendid creature standing over him.
"You don't hate me worse than I hate myself, Effie," he said with an exasperating89 lack of emotion. "Say, you feel like kicking me. You feel like treating me like a surly cur. Well, I guess you're welcome. I don't guess there's a thing you can do that way can hurt me worse than you've done already." Then he smiled. And his smile was more maddening to the woman than his words. "Don't worry a thing. You're going to get your dollars if there's anything I can do to help you, and when you've got 'em--why, if the merciful God we've both been brought up to believe in is all we believe Him, I shan't be around to watch you dirtying your hands with them."
Then with a swift, alert movement he raised a warning hand.
"H'sh!"
For some seconds they remained listening. Far away to the southeast a low murmuring note came over the low hills. The girl remained with eyes straining to pierce the starlit monotone. The man rose slowly from his seat. Finally he turned about and faced her, and his eyes smiled into hers.
"The hanging bee," he said.
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收听单词发音
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1
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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2
ranching
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| adj.放牧的 | |
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3
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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4
ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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5
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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6
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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7
shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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8
rustler
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| n.[美口]偷牛贼 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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10
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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12
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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13
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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14
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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15
volcanic
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| adj.火山的；象火山的；由火山引起的 | |
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16
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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17
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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18
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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19
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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20
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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21
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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22
guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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23
bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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24
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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25
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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26
umbrage
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| n.不快；树荫 | |
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27
plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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28
steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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29
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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30
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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31
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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32
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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33
bum
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| n.臀部；流浪汉，乞丐；vt.乞求，乞讨 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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35
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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reined
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| 勒缰绳使（马）停步( rein的过去式和过去分词 )； 驾驭； 严格控制； 加强管理 | |
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38
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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39
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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40
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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41
speculative
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| adj.思索性的，暝想性的，推理的 | |
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42
speculatively
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| adv.思考地，思索地；投机地 | |
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43
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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44
shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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45
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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46
precipitate
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| adj.突如其来的；vt.使突然发生；n.沉淀物 | |
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47
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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48
hogger
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| n.木材切碎机，火车司机；钻工 | |
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49
depredations
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| n.劫掠，毁坏( depredation的名词复数 ) | |
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miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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nominee
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| n.被提名者；被任命者；被推荐者 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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barter
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| n.物物交换，以货易货，实物交易 | |
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coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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blister
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| n.水疱；(油漆等的)气泡；v.(使)起泡 | |
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hustle
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| v.推搡；竭力兜售或获取；催促；n.奔忙(碌) | |
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squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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eradicate
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| v.根除，消灭，杜绝 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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flout
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| v./n.嘲弄，愚弄，轻视 | |
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penury
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| n.贫穷，拮据 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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83
spurn
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| v.拒绝，摈弃；n.轻视的拒绝；踢开 | |
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scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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drudgery
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| n.苦工，重活，单调乏味的工作 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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