“You can miss that fun, Miss,” said her chum, somewhat sharply. “Teasing Mr. Petterby is a good deal like a cat playing with a mouse. It’s fun for the cat, but tragic2 for the mouse.”
“Tragedy! Fancy!” responded Tavia, tossing her head. “As though my innocent little conversations with Lance were tragic in any way.”
“He thinks you are in earnest when you show interest in his affairs,” declared Dorothy.
“But you know, dear, he’s such fun!” pouted3 Tavia. “I can’t help plaguing him. He is so very innocent—a big man like him!—that he’s fair game. You are a regular spoil-sport.”
“I’ve another reason for going home,” said Dorothy, seriously. “Just the same, you are not to be trusted, Tavia. I am ashamed of you.”
“You needn’t be. I wouldn’t harm poor little Lance Petterby for the world!” giggled4 the black-eyed girl.
Dorothy was too worried over what the cowboy had told her about Philo Marsh5 to keep on joking with her friend. The instant they reached the ranch-house she ran to find Aunt Winnie.
“What do you mean, child?” asked Mrs. White.
“For that Marsh man.”
“Why, Dorothy! you are greatly excited. What is the matter?”
“No. I told him I would to-morrow if he brought out a commissioner8 of deeds with him. I cannot go to town now.”
“Don’t do it!” begged her niece, excitedly. “There’s something queer about it. Let me tell you,” and there poured forth9 then all her suspicions and her reasons for holding them. She told her aunt about the strange talk she had overheard between the foreman of the ranch and Philo Marsh, as well as about the surveying party she and Tavia had seen back in the hills. She likewise repeated what Lance Petterby had told her that very day.
“I cannot understand it,” Mrs. White said. “I have read the agreement Mr. Marsh offers very carefully. It is between your father and me, as party of the first part (that is the legal phrase), and Mr. Marsh, Mr. Kendrick, and Mr. Stephen Goode, who jointly11 agree to take the water of Lost River under certain conditions. There is no corporation formed as yet, I am told, and these men constitute a committee.”
“A committee for whom?” asked Dorothy, briskly.
“Why—why, for the people who want the water.”
“But who are they, Aunt Winnie? Philo Marsh says he is acting12 for the Desert people; but you don’t really know if it is so.”
“Child! it can’t be possible that the man would boldly conspire13 to gain my signature for a different purpose from that Colonel Hardin intended?”
“That’s exactly what I believe Marsh is aiming to do,” cried Dorothy. “Don’t you sign.”
“I won’t. A bad promise is better broken than kept. I shall write to Mr. Jermyn. When I spoke14 to him in Dugonne he said he had had no reason for looking into the matter, but he supposed that Mr. Marsh was acting in good faith. Lawyers, I am afraid, are like doctors. The ethics15 of the profession sometimes stand before their duty to a client.
“But Mr. Jermyn shall come out here and examine the papers and talk with Mr. Marsh in my presence, before I sign,” added Mrs. White. “Thank you, my dear, for being so helpful. Go tell Dempsey to find a man to ride into Dugonne at once with a note.”
Dorothy ran to do as she was bid, while Mrs. White went to write the letter. A man came to the ranch-house in a few minutes, a-straddle of a vicious pony16. He was a sullen17, rough looking fellow, but Mrs. White presumed he was to be trusted as a messenger.
However, had she known that the fellow carried her note to Philo Marsh instead of to Mr. Jermyn—being in Marsh’s pay—the lady from the East would not have been so tranquil18 in her mind. Having been unsuccessful in wheedling19 Hank Ledger20 into aiding him, Marsh had hired this Mexican to play the spy at the Hardin ranch.
Tavia and the boys were not informed of the new mystery regarding the water-rights affair. Dorothy had promised Aunt Winnie not to speak of it at present.
“After working as hard as we do all day,” quoth Ned at the supper table that night, “a fellow needs a little recreation in the evening. You girls aren’t at all entertaining. Why! you haven’t had even a ‘sing’ since we came out here to the ranch.”
“What will we do for music?” asked Dorothy. “There isn’t even a banjo in the house.”
“There are mandolins, or guitars, or something,211 down to the bunkhouse,” Nat broke in. “I heard somebody plunking one to-day. You know, these Mexicans are great on music—of a kind.”
“I’ll ask Flores,” promised Dorothy, briskly. “Just as soon as supper is over.”
“And we’ll all sing,” announced Ned, gravely.
Tavia immediately relinquished21 her knife and fork. “I object,” she declared. “Perhaps I should say that I rise to a point of order.”
“What about, Miss?” demanded Ned.
“Are you going to attempt to sing?” asked Tavia, point blank.
“What if I do?”
“Prithee, don’t, dear Neddie,” begged the teasing girl. “We’ve heard you make the attempt before. You escaped with your life on that occasion, but remember it was in a comparatively ‘tame’ country.
“This is the wild and woolly West. They hang people here for horse-stealing—and perhaps for eating with their knives, I don’t know! At any rate, Lance Petterby tells me that many of the ‘old-timers’ shoot from the hip22, and without much provocation23. Your sweet young life may be snuffed out, Neddie, if you try to sing, by some native with an ear for music.”
“Ha, ha!” cried Nat. “Old Ned’s like the minister they tell about who was called to a new pastorate. One of the members of the new church asked a friend of the minister if he was a good man.
“‘He is a very good man,’ agreed the minister’s friend.
“‘Well, what are his faults? He must have some fault?’ said the curious one.
“‘Since you press me,’ said the other, ‘I know of but one grave fault in your new minister.’
“So the man asked him what that fault was. ‘He doesn’t know how to sing,’ declared the candid24 friend.
“‘Well, that’s not a very serious fault,’ said the anxious one, much relieved.
“‘No,’ was the reply; ‘but, you see, he sings just the same as if he did know.’”
“That settles it,” growled25 Ned, appearing to be much offended. “I’ll not sing, no matter how much I am urged. I positively26 refuse.”
“I can go on with my supper, then,” said Tavia, calmly, “and with a mind relieved of anxiety.”
“And while you are finishing,” laughed Dorothy, “I’ll go hunt up Flores, and see if there is music to be had to soothe27 the savage28 breasts of these amateur cowpunchers.”
She ran down to the shack29 where the foreman and his wife lived. The twilight30 was falling, and Dorothy thought the country beautiful. Bare as the ranges were, the vari-colored sky arching the rolling plain lent a softness to the earth’s outline that pleased the eye.
By broad day she could see the boulders31 cropping out of the hillsides, and the scars of ancient land-slips upon the faces of the higher mountains, but now purple and saffron shadows mantled32 all these rude outlines of the landscape, while the little valleys were pits of gray mist and shadow.
Dorothy came, cheerfully singing, to the door of the foreman’s house. “Where is Flores?” she asked Mrs. Ledger, who had hurried down from the big house as soon as supper there was served to get the evening meal for her husband and the hands.
“Drat the gal10!” replied Mrs. Ledger, with some exasperation33. “I wish I knew. I left her here to get things started, and she’s run off.”
“Run away?” cried the startled Dorothy.
“Not fur, I reckon. She’s always buzzing some of the men. ’Druther play than work, any time, that gal had.”
“I’ll find her,” promised the girl from the East, and went on toward the horse sheds.
But she would have passed Flores in the dusk had she not heard excited voices speaking Spanish. Dorothy could not understand Spanish, but she recognized the tones of the Mexican girl’s voice.
214 “Flores!”
Instantly Dorothy saw one of the herdsmen dive into the deeper shadow beside the shed, while Flores came swiftly toward her. The Mexican girl had been crying, Dorothy knew, although it was too dark to see her face but dimly.
“What is the matter, Flores?”
“You won’t tell me?”
“I—I dare not. I no explain. Hush35!” whispered the girl. “You take care at beeg house. Bad mans about.”
This was anything but lucid36, but try as she might Dorothy could get nothing more explicit37 from Flores. The latter seemed not only unable to explain herself in English, but she was afraid to speak at all!
Flores hurried back to the Ledger domicile and lent Dorothy a mandolin of her own. Tavia could play the mandolin, and the young folk at the big house had a nice “sing” that evening.
When Dorothy and her chum went to bed the former told Tavia about Flores’ strange speech and actions.
“More mystery, Rudolpho!” cried Tavia. “What can she mean? ‘Bad mans,’ eh? Sounds awfully38 interesting. Almost any male man with intelligence would be a delightful39 change from these ignorant Mexican herdsmen.”
“Oh! he is a disappointment, despite his mustache,” admitted Tavia. “Even as a villain he proved second rate.”
“Perhaps we haven’t seen the last of his villainy,” said Dorothy, darkly.
Tavia, her hearing momentarily impaired41 by a big yawn, did not catch the drift of Dorothy’s prophecy. The next day there was more than the usual stir about the Hardin ranch. Philo Marsh and a low-browed, greasy42 looking man, whom the lawyer introduced as “Jedge Biggs”—a Justice of the Peace and Notary43 Public—arrived early in the day.
The girls were by now deeply interested in the matter of the water-rights. The boys had ridden away as usual, right after breakfast. Dorothy had told Tavia enough about Aunt Winnie’s difficulties to arouse the black-eyed girl’s interest and to excite her over this morning visit of Marsh.
The chums remained on the veranda44, within hearing of the discussion in the office, when Aunt Winnie appeared to meet the two men from Dugonne.
“Mawnin’, Mrs. White,” said Philo Marsh, in his unctuous45 way. “We’re all prepared this mawnin’ for business—loaded tuh the muzzle46, as yuh might say.”
“I have sent for Mr. Jermyn,” said Aunt Winnie,216 quietly. “I prefer to have him here before I sign anything, Mr. Marsh.”
“Sufferin’ snakes, Ma’am! this ain’t another hold-up, I hope? Why, ye agreed tuh sign——”
“Quite so. When Mr. Jermyn comes, if he does not advise against it, I will sign.”
“But, Mrs. White! I have reason to know Jermyn is not in Dugonne at present.”
“That is too bad,” said Mrs. White, with real disappointment. “I thought it strange that he returned no reply to the note I sent him last evening.”
It was not strange to Philo Marsh, but he gave no sign that he had ever heard of the message.
“It seems a pity to hold the matter up again, Mr. Marsh,” said Aunt Winnie, calmly. “But I feel that my lawyer should have an opportunity to advise.”
“Mrs. White!” cried Philo Marsh, his wrath47 getting the better of his judgment48, “this is childish. It’s a joke for you, perhaps, but not for me. You promised——”
“Mr. Marsh!” exclaimed Aunt Winnie. “I am not in the habit of being spoken to in such a tone.”
“I am sorry for your disappointment, Mr. Marsh,” proceeded the lady, “but I can no longer discuss this matter—or go on with it at all—until I secure the advice of Mr. Jermyn. Good morning.”
“Bully for Aunt Winnie!” whispered Tavia, on the porch, squeezing Dorothy’s arm.
“But I am afraid of what Philo Marsh will do,” returned Dorothy, in a similar tone. “He looks like a thunder-cloud.”
Mrs. White had swept from the office, and the two men finally came out. They did not notice the girls, and went off whispering together. A little later they rode away from the ranch sheds, but did not take the trail to Dugonne.
Ned and Nat had told the girls that some yearlings were to be branded that morning, down in the far corral, and Dorothy and Tavia wanted to see the work done—although they shrank from the idea of giving pain to the helpless cattle.
“But I suppose that is the only way to keep run of the stock,” Dorothy said, wisely.
“They couldn’t very well paste numbers on their horns,” rejoined Tavia, whimsically.
When they told Aunt Winnie they were going, they found her looking very grave, and she confessed to a headache. She suffered severely51 from that affliction at times and she said the glare of the sun outside oppressed her.
Dorothy knew that nervousness, enhanced by the argument with Philo Marsh, was the real cause of her aunt’s illness. She offered to remain at the house, but Aunt Winnie sent her out with Tavia.
“Go along and have a good time, child,” she said. “I shall be all right alone here.”
For at this time of day there was not a soul else about the big house. Mrs. Ledger and Flores were busy at their own quarters.
It was an hour later—after retiring in bad order because of the odor of burning hair and flesh in their nostrils52, and the sound of piteous bawling53 in their ears—that the two girls approached the ranch-house. The branding operations had been too much for their courage.
“I don’t want to be a ‘cattle queen,’” Tavia declared, with a shudder54. “One of those poor calves55 had blue eyes and he looked at me so pitiful!”
“Yet you have no tender feeling for the poor humans you plague—like Lance Petterby,” chuckled56 Dorothy.
“Oh! they are fair game!” said Tavia, shaking her braids and running on before.
Tavia, breathless, pointed59 off toward the west. A party of at least six horsemen were riding at a gallop60 away from the front of the ranch-house.
“Philo Marsh!” cried Dorothy. “I see him.”
“There is a woman with them—she is riding in the middle of the crowd,” screamed Tavia. “Oh, Doro! she’s a prisoner! He’s carried her off.”
“Who’s carried whom off?” demanded the startled Dorothy, as the cavalcade61 disappeared into a coulie.
“Your aunt! Philo Marsh has her. He’s kidnapped her—to make her sign those papers—I know he has,” cried Tavia, weakly sitting down on the steps.
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Dorothy, and ran into the house to find her aunt.
But she could not find her. She called, and there came no answer. With fast beating heart and trembling limbs Dorothy Dale returned to the veranda. Tavia was talking to a man on horseback who had just arrived. It was Lance Petterby.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
ranch
|
|
| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
tragic
|
|
| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
pouted
|
|
| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
giggled
|
|
| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
marsh
|
|
| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
horrid
|
|
| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
wailed
|
|
| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
commissioner
|
|
| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
gal
|
|
| n.姑娘，少女 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
jointly
|
|
| ad.联合地，共同地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
conspire
|
|
| v.密谋，（事件等）巧合，共同导致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
ethics
|
|
| n.伦理学；伦理观，道德标准 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
pony
|
|
| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
sullen
|
|
| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
tranquil
|
|
| adj. 安静的, 宁静的, 稳定的, 不变的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
wheedling
|
|
| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
ledger
|
|
| n.总帐，分类帐；帐簿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
relinquished
|
|
| 交出，让给( relinquish的过去式和过去分词 )； 放弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
hip
|
|
| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
provocation
|
|
| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
candid
|
|
| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
growled
|
|
| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
positively
|
|
| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
soothe
|
|
| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
savage
|
|
| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
shack
|
|
| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
twilight
|
|
| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
boulders
|
|
| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
mantled
|
|
| 披着斗篷的，覆盖着的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
exasperation
|
|
| n.愤慨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
sobbed
|
|
| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
hush
|
|
| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
lucid
|
|
| adj.明白易懂的，清晰的，头脑清楚的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
explicit
|
|
| adj.详述的，明确的；坦率的；显然的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
awfully
|
|
| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
delightful
|
|
| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
villain
|
|
| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
impaired
|
|
| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
greasy
|
|
| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
notary
|
|
| n.公证人，公证员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
veranda
|
|
| n.走廊；阳台 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
unctuous
|
|
| adj.油腔滑调的，大胆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
muzzle
|
|
| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
wrath
|
|
| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
judgment
|
|
| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
scowling
|
|
| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
severely
|
|
| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
nostrils
|
|
| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
bawling
|
|
| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
calves
|
|
| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
chuckled
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
beckoned
|
|
| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
gasped
|
|
| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
gallop
|
|
| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
cavalcade
|
|
| n.车队等的行列 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |