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Page 46
Carley felt a little cold shock go tingling through her. But she gave no
sign that she had heard. She recognized the voice and also the epithet.
Passing to the other side of the room and joining the company there, Carley
presently took a casual glance at the door. Several men were lounging
there. One of them was the sheep dipper, Haze Ruff. His bold eyes were on
her now, and his coarse face wore a slight, meaning smile, as if he
understood something about her that was a secret to others. Carley dropped
her eyes. But she could not shake off the feeling that wherever she moved
this man's gaze followed her. The unpleasantness of this incident would
have been nothing to Carley had she at once forgotten it. Most
unaccountably, however, she could not make herself unaware of this
ruffian's attention. It did no good for her to argue that she was merely
the cynosure of all eyes. This Ruff's tone and look possessed something
heretofore unknown to Carley. Once she was tempted to tell Glenn. But that
would only cause a fight, so she kept her counsel. She danced again, and
helped Flo entertain her guests, and passed that door often; and once stood
before it, deliberately, with all the strange and contrary impulse so
inscrutable in a woman, and never for a moment wholly lost the sense of the
man's boldness. It dawned upon her, at length, that the singular thing
about this boldness was its difference from any, which had ever before
affronted her. The fool's smile meant that he thought she saw his
attention, and, understanding it perfectly, had secret delight in it. Many
and various had been the masculine egotisms which had come under her
observation. But quite beyond Carley was this brawny sheep dipper, Haze
Ruff. Once the party broke up and the guests had departed, she instantly
forgot both man and incident.
Next day, late in the afternoon, when Carley came out on the porch, she was
hailed by Flo, who had just ridden in from down the canyon.
"Hey Carley, come down. I shore have something to tell you," she called.
Carley did not use any time pattering down that rude porch stairway. Flo
was dusty and hot, and her chaps carried the unmistakable scent of
sheep-dip.
"Been over to Ryan's camp an' shore rode hard to beat Glenn home," drawled
Flo.
"Why?" queried Carley, eagerly.
"Reckon I wanted to tell you something Glenn swore he wouldn't let me tell.
. . . He makes me tired. He thinks you can't stand things."
"Oh! Has he been--hurt?"
"He's skinned an' bruised up some, but I reckon he's not hurt."
"Flo--what happened?" demanded Carley, anxiously.
"Carley, do you know Glenn can fight like the devil?" asked Flo.
"No, I don't. But I remember he used to be athletic. Flo, you make me
nervous. Did Glenn fight?"
"I reckon he did," drawled Flo.
"With whom?"
"Nobody else but that big hombre, Haze Ruff."
"Oh!" gasped Carley, with a violent start. "That--that ruffian! Flo, did
you see--were you there?"
"I shore was, an' next to a horse race I like a fight," replied the Western
girl. "Carley, why didn't you tell me Haze Ruff insulted you last night?"
"Why, Flo--he only said, 'Hello, pretty eyes,' and I let it pass!" said
Carley, lamely.
"You never want to let anything pass, out West. Because next time you'll
get worse. This turn your other cheek doesn't go in Arizona. But we shore
thought Ruff said worse than that. Though from him that's aplenty."
"How did you know?"
"Well, Charley told it. He was standing out here by the door last night an'
he heard Ruff speak to you. Charley thinks a heap of you an' I reckon he
hates Ruff. Besides, Charley stretches things. He shore riled Glenn, an' I
want to say, my dear, you missed the best thing that's happened since you
got here."
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