riders of the purple sage-第7章

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u　through　the　passes　to　the　last　border　settlements。　Here　he　became　a　rider　of　the　sage；　had　stock　of　his　own；　and　for　a　time　prospered；　until　chance　threw　him　in　the　employ　of　Jane　Withersteen。

〃Lassiter；　I　needn't　tell　you　the　rest。〃

〃Well；　it'd　be　no　news　to　me。　I　know　Mormons。　I've　seen　their　women's　strange　love　en'　patience　en'　sacrifice　an'　silence　en'　whet　I　call　madness　for　their　idea　of　God。　An'　over　against　that　I've　seen　the　tricks　of　men。　They　work　hand　in　hand；　all　together；　an'　in　the　dark。　No　man　can　hold　out　against　them；　unless　he　takes　to　packin'　guns。　For　Mormons　are　slow　to　kill。　That's　the　only　good　I　ever　seen　in　their　religion。　Venters；　take　this　from　me；　these　Mormons　ain't　just　right　in　their　minds。　Else　could　a　Mormon　marry　one　woman　when　he　already　has　a　wife；　an'　call　it　duty？〃

〃Lassiter；　you　think　as　I　think；〃　returned　Venters。

〃How'd　it　come　then　that　you　never　throwed　a　gun　on　Tull　or　some　of　them？〃　inquired　the　rider；　curiously。

〃Jane　pleaded　with　me；　begged　me　to　be　patient；　to　overlook。　She　even　took　my　guns　from　me。　I　lost　all　before　I　knew　it；〃　replied　Venters；　with　the　red　color　in　his　face。　〃But；　Lassiter；　listen。

〃Out　of　the　wreck　I　saved　a　Winchester；　two　Colts；　and　plenty　of　shells。　I　packed　these　down　into　Deception　Pass。　There；　almost　every　day　for　six　months；　I　have　practiced　with　my　rifle　till　the　barrel　burnt　my　hands。　Practised　the　drawthe　firing　of　a　Colt；　hour　after　hour！〃

〃Now　that's　interestin'　to　me；〃　said　Lassiter；　with　a　quick　uplift　of　his　head　and　a　concentration　of　his　gray　gaze　on　Venters。　〃Could　you　throw　a　gun　before　you　began　that　practisin'？〃

〃Yes。　And　now。。。〃　Venters　made　a　lightning…swift　movement。

Lassiter　smiled；　and　then　his　bronzed　eyelids　narrowed　till　his　eyes　seemed　mere　gray　slits。　〃You'll　kill　Tull！〃　He　did　not　question；　he　affirmed。

〃I　promised　Jane　Withersteen　I'd　try　to　avoid　Tull。　I'll　keep　my　word。　But　sooner　or　later　Tull　and　I　will　meet。　As　I　feel　now；　if　he　even　looks　at　me　I'll　draw！〃

〃I　reckon　so。　There'll　be　hell　down　there；　presently。〃　He　paused　a　moment　and　flicked　a　sage…brush　with　his　quirt。　〃Venters；　seein'　as　you're　considerable　worked　up；　tell　me　Milly　Erne's　story。〃

Venters's　agitation　stilled　to　the　trace　of　suppressed　eagerness　in　Lassiter's　query。

〃Milly　Erne's　story？　Well；　Lassiter；　I'll　tell　you　what　I　know。　Milly　Erne　had　been　in　Cottonwoods　years　when　I　first　arrived　there；　and　most　of　what　I　tell　you　happened　before　my　arrival。　I　got　to　know　her　pretty　well。　She　was　a　slip　of　a　woman；　and　crazy　on　religion。　I　conceived　an　idea　that　I　never　mentionedI　thought　she　was　at　heart　more　Gentile　than　Mormon。　But　she　passed　as　a　Mormon；　and　certainly　she　had　the　Mormon　woman's　locked　lips。　You　know；　in　every　Mormon　village　there　are　women　who　seem　mysterious　to　us；　but　about　Milly　there　was　more　than　the　ordinary　mystery。　When　she　came　to　Cottonwoods　she　had　a　beautiful　little　girl　whom　she　loved　passionately。　Milly　was　not　known　openly　in　Cottonwoods　as　a　Mormon　wife。　That　she　really　was　a　Mormon　wife　I　have　no　doubt。　Perhaps　the　Mormon's　other　wife　or　wives　would　not　acknowledge　Milly。　Such　things　happen　in　these　villages。　Mormon　wives　wear　yokes；　but　they　get　jealous。　Well；　whatever　had　brought　Milly　to　this　country　love　or　madness　of　religionshe　repented　of　it。　She　gave　up　teaching　the　village　school。　She　quit　the　church。　And　she　began　to　fight　Mormon　upbringing　for　her　baby　girl。　Then　the　Mormons　put　on　the　screws　slowly；　as　is　their　way。　At　last　the　child　disappeared。　'Lost'　was　the　report。　The　child　was　stolen；　I　know　that。　So　do　you。　That　wrecked　Milly　Erne。　But　she　lived　on　in　hope。　She　became　a　slave。　She　worked　her　heart　and　soul　and　life　out　to　get　back　her　child。　She　never　heard　of　it　again。　Then　she　sank。。。。I　can　see　her　now；　a　frail　thing；　so　transparent　you　could　almost　look　through　herwhite　like　ashesand　her　eyes！。。。Her　eyes　have　always　haunted　me。　She　had　one　real　friendJane　Withersteen。　But　Jane　couldn't　mend　a　broken　heart；　and　Milly　died。〃

For　moments　Lassiter　did　not　speak；　or　turn　his　head。

〃The　man！〃　he　exclaimed；　presently；　in　husky　accents。

〃I　haven't　the　slightest　idea　who　the　Mormon　was；〃　replied　Venters；　〃nor　has　any　Gentile　in　Cottonwoods。〃

〃Does　Jane　Withersteen　know？〃

〃Yes。　But　a　red…hot　running…iron　couldn't　burn　that　name　out　of　her！〃

Without　further　speech　Lassiter　started　off；　walking　his　horse　and　Venters　followed　with　his　dogs。　Half　a　mile　down　the　slope　they　entered　a　luxuriant　growth　of　willows；　and　soon　came　into　an　open　space　carpeted　with　grass　like　deep　green　velvet。　The　rushing　of　water　and　singing　of　birds　filled　their　ears。　Venters　led　his　comrade　to　a　shady　bower　and　showed　him　Amber　Spring。　It　was　a　magnificent　outburst　of　clear；　amber　water　pouring　from　a　dark；　stone…lined　hole。　Lassiter　knelt　and　drank；　lingered　there　to　drink　again。　He　made　no　comment；　but　Venters　did　not　need　words。　Next　to　his　horse　a　rider　of　the　sage　loved　a　spring。　And　this　spring　was　the　most　beautiful　and　remarkable　known　to　the　upland　riders　of　southern　Utah。　It　was　the　spring　that　made　old　Withersteen　a　feudal　lord　and　now　enabled　his　daughter　to　return　the　toll　which　her　father　had　exacted　from　the　toilers　of　the　sage。

The　spring　gushed　forth　in　a　swirling　torrent；　and　leaped　down　joyously　to　make　its　swift　way　along　a　willow…skirted　channel。　Moss　and　ferns　and　lilies　overhung　its　green　banks。　Except　for　the　rough…hewn　stones　that　held　and　directed　the　water；　this　willow　thicket　and　glade　had　been　left　as　nature　had　made　it。

Below　were　artificial　lakes；　three　in　number；　one　above　the　other　in　banks　of　raised　earth；　and　round　about　them　rose　the　lofty　green…foliaged　shafts　of　poplar　trees。　Ducks　dotted　the　glassy　surface　of　the　lakes；　a　blue　heron　stood　motionless　on　a　water…gate；　kingfishers　darted　with　shrieking　flight　along　the　shady　banks；　a　white　hawk　sailed　above；　and　from　the　trees　and　shrubs　came　the　song　of　robins　and　cat…birds。　It　was　all　in　strange　contrast　to　the　endless　slopes　of　lonely　sage　and　the　wild　rock　environs　beyond。　Venters　thought　of　the　woman　who　loved　the　birds　and　the　green　of　the　leaves　and　the　murmur　of　the　water。

Next　on　the　slope；　just　below　the　third　and　largest　lake；　were　corrals　and　a　wide　stone　barn　and　open　sheds　and　coops　and　pens。　Here　were　clouds　of　dust；　and　cracking　sounds　of　hoofs；　and　romping　colts　and　heehawing　burros。　Neighing　horses　trampled　to　the　corral　fences。　And　on　the　little　windows　of　the　barn　projected　bobbing　heads　of　bays　and　blacks　and　sorrels。　When　the　two　men　entered　the　immense　barnyard；　from　all　around　the　din　increased。　This　welcome；　however；　was　not　seconded　by　the　several　men　and　boys　who　vanished　on　sight。

Venters　and　Lassiter　were　turning　toward　the　house　when　Jane　appeared　in　the　lane　leading　a　horse。　In　riding…skirt　and　blouse　she　seemed　to　have　lost　some　of　her　statuesque　proportions；　and　looked　more　like　a　girl　rider　than　the　mistress　of　Withersteen。　She　was　brightly　smiling；　and　her　greeting　was　warmly　cordial。

〃Good　news；〃　she　announced。　〃I've　been　to　the　village。　All　is　quiet。　I　expectedI　don't　know　what。　But　there's　no　excitement。　And　Tull　has　ridden　out　on　his　way　to　Glaze。〃

〃Tull　gone？〃　inquired　Venters；　with　surprise。　He　was　wondering　what　could　have　taken　Tull　away。　Was　it　to　avoid　another　meeting　with　Lassiter　that　he　went？　Could　it　have　any　connection　with　the　probable　nearness　of　Oldring　and　his　gang？

〃Gone；　yes；　thank　goodness；〃　replied　Jane。　〃Now　I'll　have　peace　for　a　while。　Lassiter；　I　want　you　to　see　my　horses。　You　are　a　rider；　and　you　must　be　a　judge　of　horseflesh。　Some　of　mine　have　Arabian　blood。　My　father　got　his　best　strain　in　Nevada　from　Indians　who　claimed　their　horses　were　bred　down　from　the　original　stock　left　by　the　Spaniards。〃

〃Well；　ma'am；　the　one　you've　been　ridin'　takes　my　eye；〃　said　Lassiter；　as　he　walked　round　the　racy；　clean…limbed；　and　fine…pointed　roan。

〃Where　are　the　boys？〃　she　asked；　looking　about。　〃Jerd；　Paul；　where　are　you？　Here；　bring　out　the　horses。〃

Lee　sound　of　dropping　bars　inside　the　barn　was　the　signal　for　the　horses　to　jerk　their　heads　in　the　windows；　to　snort　and　stamp。　Then　they　came　pounding　out　of　the　door；　a　file　o