The Forester's Daughter: A Romance of the Bear-Tooth Range. Garland Hamlin

– you know why. If I were here – in the valley – you and I could ride together now and then, and you could show me all the trails. Why not let me come here and board? I’m going to ask your mother, if I may not do so?”

      Quite naturally he grew more and more personal. He told her of his father, the busy director of a lumber company, and of his mother, sickly and inert.

      “She ought never to have married,” he said, with darkened brow. “Not one of her children has even a decent constitution. I’m the most robust of them all, and I must seem a pretty poor lot to you. However, I wasn’t always like this, and if that young devil, Frank Meeker, hadn’t tormented me out of my sleep, I would have shown you still greater improvement. Don’t you see that it is your duty to let me stay here where I can build up on your cooking?”

      She turned this aside. “Mother don’t think much of my cooking. She says I can handle a brandin’-iron a heap better than I can a rollin’-pin.”

      “You certainly can ride,” he replied, with admiring accent. “I shall never forget the picture you made that first time I saw you racing to intercept the stage. Do you know how fine you are physically? You’re a wonder.” She uttered some protest, but he went on: “When I think of my mother and sisters in comparison with you, they seem like caricatures of women. I know I oughtn’t to say such things of my mother – she really is an exceptional person – but a woman should be something more than mind. My sisters could no more do what you do than a lame duck can lead a ballet. I suppose it is because I have had to live with a lot of ailing women all my life that I feel as I do toward you. I worship your health and strength. I really do. Your care of me on that trip was very sweet – and yet it stung.”

      “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

      “I know you didn’t, and I’m not complaining. I’m only wishing I could come here and be ‘bossed’ by you until I could hold my own against any weather. You make me feel just as I used to do when I went to a circus and watched the athletes, men and women, file past me in the sawdust. They seemed like demigods. As I sit here now I have a fierce desire to be as well, as strong, as full of life as you are. I hate being thin and timid. You have the physical perfection that queens ought to have.”

      Her face was flushed with inward heat as she listened to his strange words, which sprang, she feared, from the heart of a man hopelessly ill; but she again protested. “It’s all right to be able to throw a rope and ride a mean horse, but you have got something else – something I can never get. Learning is a thousand times finer than muscle.”

      “Learning does not compensate for nine-inch shoulders and spindle legs,” he answered. “But I’m going to get well. Knowing you has given me renewed desire to be a man. I’m going to ride and rough it, and sleep out of doors till I can follow you anywhere. You’ll be proud of me before the month is out. But I’m going to cut the Meeker outfit. I won’t subject myself to their vulgarities another day. Why should I? It’s false pride in me to hang on up there any longer.”

      “Of course you can come here,” she said. “Mother will be glad to have you, although our ranch isn’t a bit pretty. Perhaps father will send you out with one of the rangers as a fire-guard. I’ll ask him to-night.”

      “I wish you would. I like these foresters. What I’ve seen of them. I wouldn’t mind serving under a man like Landon. He’s fine.”

      Upon this pleasant conference Cliff Belden unexpectedly burst. Pushing the door open with a slam, he confronted Berrie with dark and angry face.

      “Why, Cliff, where did you come from?” she asked, rising in some confusion. “I didn’t hear you ride up.”

      “Apparently not,” he sneeringly answered. “I reckon you were too much occupied.”

      She tried to laugh away his black mood. “That’s right, I was. I’m chief cook to-day. Come in and sit down. Mother’s gone to town, and I’m playing her part,” she explained, ignoring his sullen displeasure. “Cliff, this is Mr. Norcross, who is visiting Uncle Joe. Mr. Norcross, shake hands with Mr. Belden.” She made this introduction with some awkwardness, for her lover’s failure to even say, “Howdy,” informed her that his jealous heart was aflame, and she went on, quickly: “Mr. Norcross dropped in on his way to the post-office, and I’m collecting a snack for him.”

      Recognizing Belden’s claims upon the girl, Wayland rose. “I must be going. It’s a long ride over the hill.”

      “Come again soon,” urged Berrie; “father wants to see you.”

      “Thank you. I will look in very shortly,” he replied, and went out with such dignity as he could command, feeling, however, very much like a dog that has been kicked over the threshold.

      Closing the door behind him, Belden turned upon the girl. “What’s that consumptive ‘dogie’ doing here? He ’peared to be very much at home with you – too dern much at home!”

      She was prepared for his displeasure, but not for words like these. She answered, quietly: “He just dropped in on his way to town, and he’s not a dogie!” She resented his tone as well as his words.

      “I’ve heard about you taking him over to Meeker’s and lending him your only slicker,” he went on; “but I didn’t expect to find him sittin’ here like he owned you and the place. You’re taking altogether too much pains with him. Can’t he put his own horse out? Do you have to go to the stable with him? You never did have any sense about your actions with men. You’ve all along been too free of your reputation, and now I’m going to take care of it for you. I won’t have you nursin’ this runt any longer!”

      She perceived now the full measure of his base rage, and her face grew pale and set. “You’re making a perfect fool of yourself, Cliff,” she said, with portentous calmness.

      “Am I?” he asked.

      “You sure are, and you’ll see it yourself by and by. You’ve no call to get wire-edged about Mr. Norcross. He’s not very strong. He’s just getting well of a long sickness. I knew a chill would finish him, that’s why I gave him my slicker. It didn’t hurt me, and maybe it saved his life. I’d do it again if necessary.”

      “Since when did you start a hospital for Eastern tenderfeet?” he sneered; then his tone changed to one of downright command. “You want to cut this all out, I tell you! I won’t have any more of it! The boys up at the mill are all talkin’ about your interest in this little whelp, and I’m getting the branding-iron from every one I meet. Sam saw you go into the barn with that dude, and that would have been all over the country to-morrow, if I hadn’t told him I’d sew his mouth up if he said a word about it. Of course, I don’t think you mean anything by this coddlin’.”

      “Oh, thank you,” she interrupted, with flaming, quick, indignant fury. “That’s mighty nice of you. I went to the barn to show Mr. Norcross where to stall his horse. I didn’t know Sam was here.”

      He sneered: “No, I bet you didn’t.”

      She fired at this. “Come now! Spit it out! Something nasty is in your mind. Go on! What have I done? What makes you so hot?”

      He began to weaken. “I don’t accuse you of anything. I – but I – ”

      “Yes you do – in your heart you distrust me – you just as much as said so!”

      He was losing his high air of command. “Never mind what I said, Berrie, I – ”

      She was blazing now. “But I do mind – I mind a whole lot – I didn’t think it of you,” she added, as she realized his cheapness, his coarseness. “I didn’t suppose you could even think such things of me. I don’t like it,” she repeated, and her tone hardened, “and I guess you’d better pull out of here – for good. If you’ve no more faith in me than that, I want you to go and never come back.”

      “You don’t mean that!”

      “Yes, I do! You’ve shown this yellow streak before, and I’m tired of it. This is the limit. I’m done with you.”

      She