Fighting Caravans by Zane Grey

Author:Zane Grey
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: e9781634500685
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing
Published: 2015-09-24T04:00:00+00:00

At a late hour, when Clint wended his slow way back to the ranch house it seemed that the moon, the night, the earth, the universe had been created for him. He could only accept, humbly, wondering, reverent. All that he had endured lost its utter cruelty in the light of the love he felt and the love bestowed upon him.

He lingered, sitting on the doorstep of the adobe shack behind the range house. Even the dogs at the corrals were quiet, like their wild brothers out on the range. Over Maxwell’s ranch hung the pale moon-mantle, mysterious and beautiful. But Clint could not think. He only dreamed over May’s sweet willing kisses. Tomorrow, perhaps, he could face the realities of his new responsibilities. And he found, too, that sleep was something he did not require for a long while. As a consequence he was late at breakfast next morning, to the amusement of Maxwell.

“Buff, if you stay up late at night playin’ with the ladies, you’ll never make a good scout,” he teased.

“I’d hate not to make a good scout,” returned Clint, “but last night was worth it.”

“I reckon,” laughed the rancher. “Well, Buff, come to my office this mornin’. I want a little talk with you.”

Clint knew that meant something private and he was puzzled, and so interested he took early advantage of the invitation. Maxwell was busy with freighters. Upon concluding his business with them he pushed a chair toward Clint, and also a box of cigars, which he immediately withdrew. “Buff, I forgot you didn’t smoke. . . . Well, lad, I don’t need to ask you if you fixed it up with May.”

“No, sir. But it was May an’ you who fixed it,” rejoined Clint, gratefully.

“All’s well, then, lad?”

“I never dreamed I could be so happy,” said Clint, simply.

“Couch told me your age, but I’ve forgotten.”

“Near eighteen now, Mr. Maxwell.”

“Well, out here on the frontier years don’t matter. An’ May is sixteen. Pioneer girls marry young, which is a good thing.”

“What—what you—you aimin’ at, sir?” stammered Clint, red in the face.

“I’ve a hunch you an’ May ought to get married,” replied the rancher, earnestly.

“Oh! . . . W-w-when?”

“Just as quick as the Clements will let you. They adopted the girl an’ they love her as their own. But I might persuade Hall. I don’t savvy about the misses, though.”

“Uncle Jim Couch might have somethin’ to say. He has charge of me till I’m twenty-one.”

“Ahuh. Jim Couch is all right, among train bosses. But he gets sore now an’ then, at delays an’ on important drives. Then he takes chances. An’, Buff, take a hunch from me. Couch’s bones will bleach on the prairie, the same as those of so many good frontiersmen. . . . An’ the point is I don’t want you to break that little girl’s heart.”

“But, Mr. Maxwell—I—I wouldn’t!” expostulated Clint.

“You couldn’t help it if you got killed.”

“Killed!”

“That’s what I said. Buff, I’m not goin’ to advise the freighters to quit, because my business depends on them.

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