Read Online The Lone Star Ranger and the Mysterious Rider by Zane Grey - Free Book Online Page B

Jennie, but she’s kept Bland an’ the other men from treatin’ the kid shameful. Late Jennie has growed into an all-fired pretty girl, an’ Kate is powerful jealous of her. I can see hell brewin’ over there in Bland’s cabin. Thet’s why I wish you’d come over with me. Bland’s hardly ever home. His wife’s invited you. Shore, if she gets sweet on you, as she has on— Wal, thet ’d complicate matters. But you’d get to see Jennie, an’ mebbe you could help her. Mind, I ain’t hintin’ nothing’. I’m just wantin’ to put her in your way. You’re a man an’ can think fer yourself. I had a baby girl once, an’ if she’d lived she be as big as Jennie now, an’, by Gawd, I wouldn’t want her here in Bland’s camp.”
    â€œI’ll go, Euchre. Take me over,” replied Duane. He felt Euchre’s eyes upon him. The old outlaw, however, had no more to say.
    In the afternoon Euchre set off with Duane, and soon they reached Bland’s cabin. Duane remembered it as the one where he had seen the pretty woman watching him ride by. He could not recall what she looked like. The cabin was the same as the other adobe structures in the valley, but it was larger and pleasantly located rather high up in a grove of cottonwoods. In the windows and upon the porch were evidences of a woman’s hand. Through the open door Duane caught a glimpse of bright Mexican blankets and rugs.
    Euchre knocked upon the side of the door.
    â€œIs that you, Euchre?” asked a girl’s voice, low, hesitatingly. The tone of it, rather deep and with a note of fear, struck Duane. He wondered what she would be like.
    â€œYes, it’s me, Jennie. Where’s Mrs. Bland?” answered Euchre.
    â€œShe went over to Deger’s. There’s somebody sick,” replied the girl.
    Euchre turned and whispered something about luck. The snap of the outlaw’s eyes was adding significance to Duane.
    â€œJennie, come out or let us come in. Here’s the young man I was tellin’ you about,” Euchre said.
    â€œOh, I can’t! I look so—so—”
    â€œNever mind how you look,” interrupted the outlaw, in a whisper. “It ain’t no time to care fer thet. Here’s young Duane. Jennie, he’s no rustler, no thief. He’s different. Come out, Jennie, an’ mebbe he’ll—”
    Euchre did not complete his sentence. He had spoken low, with his glance shifting from side to side.
    But what he said was sufficient to bring the girl quickly. She appeared in the doorway with downcast eyes and a stain of red in her white cheek. She had a pretty, sad face and bright hair.
    â€œDon’t be bashful, Jennie,” said Euchre. “You an’ Duane have a chance to talk a little. Now I’ll go fetch Mrs. Bland, but I won’t be hurryin’.”
    With that Euchre went away through the cottonwoods.
    â€œI’m glad to meet you, Miss—Miss Jennie,” said Duane. “Euchre didn’t mention your last name. He asked me to come over to—”
    Duane’s attempt at pleasantry halted short when Jennie lifted her lashes to look at him. Some kind of a shock went through Duane. Her gray eyes were beautiful, but it had not been beauty that cut short his speech. He seemed to see a tragic struggle between hope and doubt that shone in her piercing gaze. She kept looking, and Duane could not break the silence. It was no ordinary moment.
    â€œWhat did you come here for?” she asked, at last.
    â€œTo see you,” replied Duane, glad to speak.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWell—Euchre thought—he wanted me to talk to you, cheer you up a bit,” replied Duane, somewhat lamely. The earnest eyes embarrassed him.
    â€œEuchre’s good. He’s the only person in this awful place who’s been good to me. But he’s afraid of Bland. He said you were