"Lord knows I'm not kicking. But I've dreamed some of our cool running spring, and I want a drink from it."
"Never again, son. The spring's gone, faded, sunk, dry as dust."
"Dry!" Gale slowly straightened. "We've had rains. The river's full. The spring ought to be overflowing. What's wrong? Why is it dry?"
"Dick, seeing you're interested, I may as well tell you that a big charge of nitroglycerin choked my spring."
"Nitroglycerin?" echoed Gale. Then he gave a quick start. "My mind's been on home, Nell, my family. But all the same I felt something was wrong here with the ranch, with you, with Nell...Belding, that ditch there is dry. The roses are dead.
The little green in that grass has come with the rains. What's happened? The ranch's run down. Now I look around I see a change."
"Some change, yes," replied Belding, bitterly. "Listen, son."
Briefly, but not the less forcibly for that, Belding related his story of the operations of the Chases.
Astonishment appeared to be Gale's first feeling. "Our water gone, our claims gone, our plans forestalled! Why, Belding, it's unbelievable. Forlorn River with promoters, business, railroad, bank, and what not!"
Suddenly he became fiery and suspicious. "These Chases--did they do all this on the level?"
"Barefaced robbery! Worse than a Greaser holdup," replied Belding, grimly.
"You say the law upheld them?"
"Sure. Why, Ben Chase has a pull as strong as Diablo's on a down grade. Dick, we're jobbed, outfigured, beat, tricked, and we can't do a thing."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Belding, most of all for Laddy," said Gale, feelingly. "He's all in. He'll never ride again. He wanted to settle down here on the farm he thought he owned, grow grass and raise horses, and take it easy. Oh, but it's tough! Say, he doesn't know it yet. He was just telling me he'd like to go out and look the farm over. Who's going to tell him? What's he going to do when he finds out about this deal?"
"Son, that's make me think some," replied Belding, with keen eyes fast upon the young man. "And I was kind of wondering how you'd take it."
"I? Well, I'll call on the Chases. Look here, Belding, I'd better do some forestalling myself. If Laddy gets started now there'll be blood spilled. He's not just right in his mind yet. He talks in his sleep sometimes about how Yaqui finished Rojas. If it's left to him--he'll kill these men. But if I take it up--"
"You're talking sense, Dick. Only here, I'm not so sure of you.
And there's more to tell. Son, you've Nell to think of and your mother."
Belding's ranger gave him a long and searching glance.
"You can be sure of me," he said.
"All right, then; listen," began Belding. With deep voice that had many a beak and tremor he told Gale how Nell had been hounded by Radford Chase, how her mother had been driven by Ben Chase--the whole sad story.
"So that's the trouble! Poor little girl!" murmured Gale, brokenly.
"I felt something was wrong. Nell wasn't natural, like her old self. And when I begged her to marry me soon, while Dad was here, she couldn't talk. She could only cry."
"It was hard on Nell," said Belding, simply. "But it 'll be better now you're back. Dick, I know the girl. She'll refuse to marry you and you'll have a hard job to break her down, as hard as the one you just rode in off of. I think I know you, too, or I wouldn't be saying--"
"Belding, what 're you hinting at?" demanded Gale. "Do you dare insinuate that--that--if the thing were true it'd make any difference to me?"
"Aw, come now, Dick; I couldn't mean that. I'm only awkward at saying things. And I'm cut pretty deep--"
"For God's dake, you don't believe what Chase said?" queried Gale, in passionate haste. "It's a lie. I swear it's a lie. I know it's a lie. And I've got to tell Nell this minute. Come on in with me. I want you, Belding. Oh, why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Belding felt himself dragged by an iron arm into the sitting-room out into the patio, and across that to where Nell sat in her door. At sight of them she gave a little cry, drooped for an instant, then raised a pale, still face, with eyes beginning to darken.
"Dearest, I know now why you are not wearing my mother's ring," said Gale, steadily and low-voiced.
"Dick, I am not worthy," she replied, and held out a trembling hand with the ring lying in the palm.
Swift as light Gale caught her hand and slipped the ring back upon the third finger.
"Nell! Look at me. It is your engagement ring....Listen. I don't believe this--this thing that's been torturing you. I know it's a lie. I am absolutely sure your mother will prove it a lie. She must have suffered once--perhaps there was a sad error--but the thing you fear is not true. But, hear me, dearest; even if it was true it wouldn't make the slightest difference to me. I'd promise you on my honor I'd never think of it again. I'd love you all the more because you'd suffered. I want you all the more to be my wife--to let me make you forget--to--"
She rose swiftyly with the passionate abandon of a woman stirred to her depths, and she kissed him.
"Oh, Dick, you're good--so good! You'll never know--just what those words mean to me. They've saved me--I think."
"Then, dearest, it's all right?" Dick questioned, eagerly. "You will keep your promise? You will marry me?"
The glow, the light faded out of her face, and now the blue eyes were almost black. She drooped and shook her head.
"Nell!" exclaimed Gale, sharply catching his breath.
"Don't ask me, Dick. I--I won't marry you."
"Why?"
"You know. It's true that I--"
"It's a lie," interrupted Gale, fiercely. "But even if it's true--why--why won't you marry me? Between you and me love is the thing. Love, and nothing else! Don't you love me any more?"
They had forgotten Belding, who stepped back into the shade.
"I love you with my whole heart and soul. I'd die for you," whispered Nell, with clenching hands. "But I won't disgrace you."
"Dear, you have worried over this trouble till you're morbid. It has grown out of all proportion. I tell you that I'll not only be the happiest man on earth, but the luckiest, if you marry me."
