USA > California > Sonoma County > Casa Grande : a California pastoral > Part 3
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Bailey and the master lingered after the others, who withdrew to the sunshine of the courtyard and gossipped of the morning's work. Miller knew from the preoccupied manner of the sheriff that the skein of his duties had snarled, and the host waited to be asked for help in disentangling the thread. The man who met life resolutely could not know, how-
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ever, that his wavering brother had caught the spirit of Casa Grande and that duty radiantly beckoned him once again.
"I'd like to club those Ethiopian asses!" was the sheriff's abrupt beginning.
"Any one in particular?" blandly asked Miller, flicking the ash from his cigarette.
"The squatters," was the irritable answer. "They've talked it over and propose to stand to- gether."
Miller's face lighted with a quiet smile. "If I remember correctly," he drawled, "you advised pa- tience in my case."
"Yes, I know." The bushy eyebrows of the sheriff met in a scowl. "Rub it in! Tramp on me, now I'm down."
The host leaned against the table and laughed until his guest was compelled to join. The owner of Casa Grande reminded his friend that one doctrine should not be preached and another practised.
The sheriff walked to the fireplace and threw away his cigarette. As he returned to his seat he said : "You might call me down for some other
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gush. I claimed them for my people. I pretended to know them better than you do." There was a rueful pucker of his lips as he spoke, but they sud- denly tightened. "They're a lot of doggone, igno- rant, stupid cattle !"
"Here! Here!" called Miller, shaking a warning finger. "You're including the Clarks."
"Oh, damn the Clarks!" Bailey leaned petulantly against the table, and turned to gaze out of the open front door, his back to his friend.
"La señorita dam' good es-shooter," was Manuel's sociable warning.
"You stick to the dishes!" The sheriff's com- mand was not intended to be brutal, but in the silence following he looked up; resentment was on the face of his host, mortification on the face of the cook. "I didn't mean that," he confessed, rising and hold- ing out his hand toward Manuel. "I'm acting like a child. Better put me with the dogs."
"Manuel is particular about the dogs," remarked Miller, good-naturedly. "Sit down. Let's finish. You must have had an unusually trying experience this morning."
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Bailey faced the ranchero, and dejectedly ex- plained that he had intimately known the Clarks for the last five years. He had eaten there, slept there, advised them in trouble, rejoiced with them in pros- perity. Now, because he must do his duty, Belle proposed to kick him out, to forget the past, that meant so much to him.
"Not a very honourable motive," observed Miller, with surprise.
Bailey again hastily corrected himself. "I didn't mean that. The girl has a high sense of honour ; she believes in duty. I shouldn't have said what I did. But to her I am the law. If I execute the writ of ejectment, it is I who put them off, not the law. She don't understand how a man can be a friend and put them off their home."
"She'll get over her resentment," Miller sooth- ingly remarked: "She may remain frigid for a few months; let her. She's bound to respect you the more for having done a disagreeable duty."
"Disagreeable! That's not the word. It's alarm- ing ; it may change my whole future!"
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"You're the greatest fellow to borrow trouble," lightly replied Miller.
Bailey absently shook his head. "You wouldn't say so if it threatened you as it does me."
Miller insisted that he would feel the same under any conditions. There was no prejudging a woman. Even if one did say how the sex might act under certain circumstances, who could guarantee the cir- cumstances? Then there was the item of personal regard; it could not be sincere if it called for the sacrifice of duty ; it could not exist at all.
Bailey waved his hand disapprovingly, and re- garded his host with silent pity. The ranchero evi- dently was not in love.
Miller deliberated for some time, then suggested a solution of the difficulty. "Send your deputy to execute the writ."
"He's too hot-headed," objected the sheriff. "He'd herd them off like so many cattle. If any resisted, there'd be work for the coroner."
Miller had still another suggestion. "Your term expires next spring?" Bailey nodded. "Let your successor put them off ; I can wait."
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"Good God, man!" said the sheriff, rising and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you take me for?" His sense of duty was strong again. "You can't mean it. Besides, I want another term."
"I didn't think you'd wait," explained the host. "Still, I didn't know how hard you are hit."
"Hard enough," confessed Bailey, "but not hard enough for that. I'll be all right, Miller." The vis- itor glanced about for his hat. "I'm going to put those people off to-morrow-resolutely, but kindly. I needed to talk it over with you, though, and I feel better. I'm ashamed that I even hesitated."
"You're disposed to worry, Bailey," said the ranchero. "You try to work out details beforehand. What's the use? Resolve to do a thing, then trust the doing of it for the details. You may be the girl's husband before you're ready to put them off; who knows? Marry her. There's the problem solved !"
The sheriff dolefully shook his head. "Do you forget that it takes two to marry? She's a curious one-head full of moonshine and things."
"What you would call romantic?" asked Miller.
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"That's the word-romantic; high notions. I sometimes wonder if it isn't a mistake, her being 'way out in the backwoods."
"The more reason to win her, Bailey," said Miller, rising and laying a hand on his guest's shoulder. "Go right after her; don't wait. You can only fail, at the worst, and that's no disgrace, if you preserve your self-respect."
"I wish I had your even temper!" The sheriff spoke with a generous enthusiasm that ·embarrassed his host as they left the room.
Near the door opening on the courtyard the two men halted. Manuel had filled a large pan with rem- nants of the dinner and placed it on the floor by the stove. The dogs ate greedily, the stronger ones dis- posed to intimidate the weaker; but the cook stood over them, a long-handled spoon in his grasp, and each got his share of food.
"There," observed Miller, "is a lesson in govern- ment. Cæsar, the big hound, is a surly brute, but he's amenable to discipline."
"I've been watching," guiltily answered the vis- itor. "It's not the only lesson Manuel has taught
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me to-day. My squatter friends may need thwack- ing, too ; I'll put an iron spoon up my sleeve."
"If you could only use it on all of them!" The ranchero spoke fervently.
Bailey looked up inquiringly.
"That graceful lady over there," was the answer, with a gesture in the direction of Dry Creek. "You can't fight her with iron spoons, nor with shotguns. And the battle '11 not be to the strong alone."
The sheriff smiled sceptically and put on his hat. "Think of me, old man, about this time to-morrow."
"God bless and guide you," cheerily replied Miller. "You'll do what's right. I'd ride over if I could help you."
"Don't," seriously objected Bailey, stepping out of the door. "Look," he called, pointing upward. "A storm's coming. I'll have to ride fast if I get to town dry."
"Take a poncho," urged Miller, turning to the rain-clothing on the wall.
"No," replied Bailey; "I have one tied to my saddle."
"Look out, Meestah es-Sam, for la señorita," ban-
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teringly called Manuel after the men going through the court. He wanted to show that he harboured no resentment for the guest's curt speech to him. "Es-she dam' good es-shooter."
"Oh, yes, you old owl," retorted Bailey, in the same spirit ; "I'll send you next time !"
The sun made a sudden rent in the clouds and drenched the earth with cheerfulness, even as the resolution to do his duty at whatever cost had lighted the sheriff's soul.
CHAPTER IV
GO THY WAY FORTH
I IT rained the night of Bailey's visit to Casa Grande. Next morning the sky was still cloudy, with occasional showers followed by sunshine. Bud- ding trees sparkled with dripping brilliants, and meadowlarks flocked in Dry Creek pastures.
The way down hill to the turbulent stream was slippery, and a cavalcade of horsemen headed by the sheriff rode slowly into the valley. They were an odd-looking, funereal company, each man wearing a black waterproof or poncho, which concealed under its ample covering the weapons of the wearer, as well as the saddle and much of the horse.
At the Clark gate the posse was halted, and Bailey dismounted, exposing a rifle swung to his saddle under the left stirrup. Without removing his poncho. he quietly walked to the house and called to Belle,
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who came out with some sewing, an occupation so unusual in the daytime that the caller stared.
The girl, with a swift glance, took in her sur- roundings-the horsemen, the sombre capes, the rifle swung to the empty saddle.
"What's under you-all's ponchos?" was her greet- ing.
He drew back the skirt of his garment, and watched her with a smile belying his anxiety.
When she beheld pistols strapped about his waist a flutter came in her throat and her face grew wax-like. As soon as she found voice she asked, thickly :
"What 're you going to do?"
"What I said yesterday-put you off."
The fingers she laid on the porch-rail trembled, and her eyes blazed at the man's easy manner. "You put us off !" Her voice was low and tense. "You coward! You sneak! Sold out to that land- grabber- "
"Belle, Belle!" he cried.
At the reproach and suffering of his tone there awoke in her the primitive feminine impulse, when
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dominating the stronger sex, to torture and humble, and she tauntingly called to him :
"Put us off ! Try it !"
The sheriff sorrowfully regarded the girl. He forgave the cruel things she had spoken, for he real- ised that the apprehension and resentment of weeks had found vent in her outburst. But he had resolved to do his duty at any cost, and his one concern now was to do it without a tragedy. He walked closer to the porch and, lowering his voice, gently said :
"You must go, Belle. It's the order of the court. If I don't put you off, some one else will. Get out quietly."
"Never alive," wilfully declared the girl, backing against the house.
Her mother and brothers joined her and looked questioningly at the sheriff and his posse.
"I've come to dispossess the settlers," said Bailey, trying to speak lightly.
"Why didn't you fetch some men ?" sullenly asked Tom.
"There's enough, I guess," answered Bailey. "I want you-all to know I came on business."
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He was the sheriff now, and while parleying his mind had worked rapidly. He saw that it would not be difficult, if the family attempted to resist, to en- gage them in a discussion of their rights on the front porch while four or five of his men went in at the rear and disarmed the occupants. Once he had their weapons, the rest would be easy.
"Go on and pack, honey," he said, at last. "I'll take my men up to the farthest settler inside the grant line and work down this way. That'll give you three or four hours."
She saw the appeal in his look-all the tenderness he felt for her. She saw, also, resolution, determi- nation, almost cruelty. It was a new view of his character, one that never before had been disclosed, and it satisfied her that he would not change his pur- pose even for her.
She came forward and wound her arm about a post of the porch. "You may put us off, Sam. We can't help it. But there'll be empty saddles in your crowd when you do !"
"Go on and pack up, I tell you," lightly repeated the sheriff, motioning swiftly two or three times at
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her, as if to drive her into the house. "This isn't the end of the world! There 'll be other days, Belle, and you-all will be cared for. There's other land right in this county."
The posse moved up the valley, and their leader smiled again. Belle would fight with a shotgun if she fought at all, but he now was satisfied that the family would get out peaceably. Again the melody of larks sounded clamorous, and from brushy hid- ing-places came the quidado of quail. At one mo- ment the sun blazed fiercely ; at the next it was hid- den by clouds. Through sunshine or shadow the bird-songs continued as if life-tragedies never could enter this little Eden. As the horsemen advanced the larks would perch by the roadside and whistle, bobbing their heads, twitching their tails and flaunt- ing bright yellow bibs. When the invaders came closer the birds rose and flew ahead a few hundred feet, like winged skirmishers preceding the little body of policemen.
As soon as the sheriff's company halted, ponchos and coats were fastened behind the saddles. The men went at their task earnestly, and one by
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one the squatters accepted the inevitable. It is easy for law-breakers to noisily talk of rights and how to maintain them ; it is quite different to defy the armed authority of the Commonwealth invading those rights. No sooner had the sheriff this morning crossed the babbling stream at the foot of the grade leading into the valley than the settlement was ap- prised of the fact. That the officer had brought with him nearly a score of men was enough for the people he had been directed to remove, and they at once accepted the alternative. Under most conditions life and liberty are sweeter than life and imprisonment.
Before the afternoon had worn half away a ma- jority of the squatters loaded their wagons with belongings easiest moved and drove out from the valley, or located on some new claim already selected against such an emergency, beyond the grant lines. A body of twenty men entering each dwelling and door-yard made quick work of the packing, and the first heat of squatter resentment over, it was curious to watch the prevailing harmony. Officers of the court and squatters belonged to the same class. All were primitive, unsordid, and disinclined to monoto-
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nous labour, yet untiring if their task involved excite- ment. All were shrewd in a certain way, yet pre- serving a childlike faith in life. Energetic neigh- bours classed such characters as indolent, even shift- less, but it was their simplicity that made them con- tent with bare necessities, if they could but revel in the luxury of almost savage freedom.
At last all the squatters had been removed except the Clarks. The afternoon was hot, the sky cloud- less, and bird-notes hushed to an occasional twitter- ing. The water in the creek still rippled, but more drowsily now that the rain had ceased. The posse halted at the enclosure surrounding the home of the fatherless family. Barricades had been placed at the gateway and over doors and windows. When the men saw what was done they fingered the pistols at their waists and unslung their rifles, standing them against the fence. Bailey, as he fastened his mount, deprecated the action of his associates, and stated that he considered their precautions unnecessary. He hung his own belt and pistols over the horn of his heavy saddle.
The sheriff cheerfully proceeded alone to the
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·
house. The warlike appearance amused him, and all question of how Belle intended to fight was de- cided by the barricading. Miller was wrong for once, and the intimate friend of the family right. The girl was sufficiently undeveloped and masculine to battle like a man, which made the officer's duty easier. He unwound the rawhide thongs that fas- tened the higher bars and stepped over the lower into the yard.
A distant horseman stood beside his mount in the shadow of an oak where the road begins its descent into Dry Creek. No one, as yet, had observed him. and from his manner he had sought to avoid notice. A restless impulse stronger than curiosity led the master of Casa Grande to this point, where he had arrived at the time the posse halted. He, too, had seen the barricaded doors and windows, the prepara- tions of the men, and his heart throbbed anxiously. He felt from the beginning that the two women would be safe from violence at the sheriff's hands, but the actions of the posse were threatening. It was a relief, therefore, to see their leader proceed alone to the dwelling.
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The relief was but momentary; before the officer was halfway to the house a shot cracked. His men caught their rifles and ran toward him. He mo- tioned them back, unfastened the white kerchief about his throat, waved it, and advanced again. A second time a rifle was discharged, and the bullet whirred close to his head. The alert, expectant atti- tude of the men was ignored by their leader, who paused a moment to deliberate. He perceived, at last, why the inmates of the house persisted in shoot- ing. Belle had stated that she would not leave the place alive. Was she inviting destruction? The in- stinctive resentment of a man against the folly of a woman who is dear to him roused in Bailey a desire to use the rod on Belle. He turned to the woodpile, shouldered an axe, and wrathfully advanced on the barricaded entrance, convinced that the demonstration against him was simply a bluff.
As the man on the hill was wondering at the rash- ress of the man in the door-yard, there came a puff of smoke, a report, and Bailey staggered and went down. He was up again immediately, Belle at his
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side almost as soon as he rose, but his left arm hung useless.
At the sheriff's fall his comrades, ready for action, swarmed into the door-yard, but when the girl ran out most of them respectfully held back, only the deputy and one or two of the more intimate ad- vancing. The girl stared shrinkingly at his wounded limb, a crimson splotch on the sleeve spreading wider. Only a moment did she hesitate, then has- tened into the house and called for water and ban- dages.
Bailey's companions urged him to ride at once to town to have the wound dressed; they would follow with the rebellious family. He stood resolute, how- ever, and waited for Belle.
She quickly returned, prepared to bind his hurt, her mother and Wash following. "What have I done!" she brokenly exclaimed. "What have I done!"
When the sheriff was comfortably seated on the porch she rolled up his sleeve. The bullet had severed an artery, and the pulsating crimson jet terrified her, for she knew that he might die unless the flow were checked.
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"I don't know how to stop it," she said, her hand clasped over the place.
He directed her to twist a tourniquet above the wound, and the bleeding quickly ceased.
The men gathered about their leader, ready with rough services and eager to advise, but none more skilful than the girl and her mother, who tightly bandaged the arm with many folds of cloth.
Belle waited a moment to glance at the patient. His face was ghastly, and he strove to hide his suf- fering under a smile, but the sweat on his brow and the glitter of his eyes betrayed him.
"Oh, Sam," she cried, "this is terrible! I'm kill- ing you !"
He shifted toward a column of the porch, his body dizzily swaying, but he resolutely braced himself against the support and told her to finish the ban- daging.
She had fastened the ends of the cloth, when Miller came up. His face was very grave, and as soon as he saw a crimson stain slowly saturating the ban- dage, the tourniquet above it, his expression changed to anxiety.
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"How badly are you hurt?" he asked Bailey, who was supporting the wounded arm with his sound one.
"Not so bad."
"Any bones broken?"
"Perhaps."
Miller asked the meaning of the tourniquet and the stain in the bandage.
"An artery's cut."
"This won't do, old man," kindly protested Miller. "You're in no condition to stand the trip to town. The tourniquet is too tight. Your hand is turning black."
"It'll go," irritably declared Bailey. The ran- chero's presence nettled him, now that he was wounded.
Miller insisted that it would be folly to ride to Santa Rosa with his arm in that condition. "Let me tie up the artery and put a splint on the arm. I've had some experience."
Belle, with a feeling of relief, made room for the newcomer. The strain was telling on her.
Bailey weakly objected, however, but before he
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knew it Miller had unwound the bandage and loos- ened the tourniquet. The ranchero took from his pocket a farrier's knife, and drew out of the heavy bone handle a pair of pincers, with which he caught the end of the artery, and asked Belle to fetch some thread and tie it.
The air was still warm, but Bailey's teeth chat- tered in spite of his effort to prevent them. When the girl attempted to fasten the thread about the blood-vessel her hands suddenly dropped. Miller glanced up; her face was colourless, with a look about the lips as of one ready to swoon.
He flung an arm about her and sharply asked if she was going to faint.
His clasp roused her, and she resolutely drew away from him. "No, I'm not," she answered, and tied the knot.
Once again they washed the wound and dressed it with simple liniments of the household and bound it up, a splint along the fractured bone. They worked silently and swiftly, for the sheriff's breath came short and the sweat stood on his face. Belle mo- tioned her mother to the place beside Miller, then
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took a handkerchief and wiped the sufferer's brow, her arm round his broad shoulders. The sheriff's drawn lips curved, his breath came deeper, and all at once life's bitter regrets had vanished.
Belle thus held the patient, unconscious of the men about her. Miller was not a little pleased at her atti- tude, which meant so much to Bailey, although little more to her than an act of friendship, the impulse of a generous nature. She, however, could not keep her glance from Miller's hands, so deftly and firmly did he use his fingers. She noticed that they were shapely and well-kept, in spite of signs of toil. They expressed strength and resolution, which she felt were elements of his character.
Even Bailey was attracted by his friend's skill. "Where did you learn to do this?" he asked.
Miller softly laughed. "I don't know much. I've sometimes helped a surgeon of the army-we crossed the continent together. He's a connection by marriage-Dr. Payne, of the San Francisco Presidio."
Bailey nodded approval. He remarked that al- ready he felt easier.
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Miller called to Wash, and asked him to take Peggy, go to Casa Grande, and hitch to his light wagon the horse in the stable there, and come right back, so Mr. Bailey could reach town quicker and more comfortably than in the saddle.
"No, you don't," objected the sheriff. "I'm going back the way I came-with my men."
"But, Bailey-"
"Enough said, Miller. I want Wash to hitch up his own rig. I must take the family with me."
"What for?" cried Belle.
"Pack up the few things you'll need for a day or two's stay in town," firmly answered Bailey, rising.
"Sam! No. We'll do anything you ask. Not that." A new dread made the girl speak sharply, and she trembled.
"The sheriff must do his duty," Bailey sadly re- plied. "There's no other way."
Miller was startled at the turn of affairs. He now realised that the Clarks were at least in contempt of court, perhaps criminally liable. It would not do for the sheriff to temporise with them, especially on the eve of his campaign for re-election.
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"I'll go with you," said the ranchero. "We can bail them out, and they can come back here and stay till they have made arrangements to move."
"We want no favours from him," said Belle to the sheriff. "We'd rather go to jail."
Bailey was pleased at the girl's resentment, and kindly declined Miller's offer. He said it would be too late for bail that night, and he would put them in the hotel, anyway.
An awkward silence fell on the group, and Miller saw that he was no longer needed. "Can I do any- thing ?" he asked.
"No, Miller ; we'll get on very well now."
The group in the door-yard watched the ranchero ride away. Above the quiet rushing of the creek sounded the patter of Peggy's hoofs until she had forded the stream; then the watchers dispersed.
"Any one could ride well on such a horse," re- marked Belle to Bailey. "The mare takes the trail like a bird."
Bailey sighed and moved away. She spoke of the mare, but he knew her thoughts were following the rider.
CHAPTER V:
AMONG THORNS
T HE Clarks went, under arrest, with the wounded leader and the posse to Santa Rosa. It was a tedious and distressful journey, owing to the sher- iff's suffering, which grew more acute the farther he rode.
When the party reached town the prisoners were quartered at the hotel, and Bailey hastened to the doctor's, where the wounded man was put to bed. His arm had been crudely bandaged, and the long trip increased the customary inflammation until the place was so badly swelled that it was impossible to tell the condition of the fractured bone.
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