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Destiny At Drybone
by
“I wonder,” said he, aloud, “if she keeps the rust off mine?” Then he lifted it slowly to his lips and kissed the word “Neighbor.”
The clank of wheels sounded on the road, and he put the pistol quickly down. Dreaminess vanished from his face. He looked around alertly, but no one had seen him. The clanking was still among the trees a little distance up Box Elder. It approached deliberately, while he watched for the vehicle to emerge upon the open where his cabin stood; and then they came, a man and a woman. At sight of her Mr. McLean half rose, but sat down again. Neither of them had noticed him, sitting as they were in silence and the drowsiness of a long drive. The man was weak-faced, with good looks sallowed by dissipation, and a vanquished glance of the eye. As the woman had stood on the platform at Separ, so she sat now, upright, bold, and massive. The brag of past beauty was a habit settled upon her stolid features. Both sat inattentive to each other and to everything around them. The wheels turned slowly and with a dry, dead noise, the reins bellied loosely to the shafts, the horse’s head hung low. So they drew close. Then the man saw McLean, and color came into his face and went away.
“Good-evening,” said he, clearing his throat. “We heard you was in cow-camp.”
The cow-puncher noted how he tried to smile, and a freakish change crossed his own countenance. He nodded slightly, and stretched his legs out as he sat.
“You look natural,” said the woman, familiarly.
“Seem to be fixed nice here,” continued the man. “Hadn’t heard of it. Well, we’ll be going along. Glad to have seen you.”
“Your wheel wants greasing,” said McLean, briefly, his eye upon the man.
“Can’t stop. I expect she’ll last to Drybone. Good-evening.”
“Stay to supper,” said McLean, always seated on his chair.
“Can’t stop, thank you. I expect we can last to Drybone.” He twitched the reins.
McLean levelled a pistol at a chicken, and knocked off its head. “Better stay to supper,” he suggested, very distinctly.
“It’s business, I tell you. I’ve got to catch Governor Barker before he–“
The pistol cracked, and a second chicken shuffled in the dust. “Better stay to supper,” drawled McLean.
The man looked up at his wife.
“So yus need me!” she broke out. “Ain’t got heart enough in yer played-out body to stand up to a man. We’ll eat here. Get down.”
The husband stepped to the ground. “I didn’t suppose you’d want–“
“Ho! want? What’s Lin, or you, or anything to me? Help me out.”
Both men came forward. She descended, leaning heavily upon each, her blue staring eyes fixed upon the cow-puncher.
“No, yus ain’t changed,” she said. “Same in your looks and same in your actions. Was you expecting you could scare me, you, Lin McLean?”
“I just wanted chickens for supper,” said he.
Mrs. Lusk gave a hard high laugh. “I’ll eat ’em. It’s not I that cares. As for–” She stopped. Her eye had fallen upon the pistol and the name “Neighbor.” “As for you,” she continued to Mr. Lusk, “don’t you be standing dumb same as the horse.”
“Better take him to the stable, Lusk,” said McLean.
He picked the chickens up, showed the woman to the best chair in his room, and went into his kitchen to cook supper for three. He gave his guests no further attention, nor did either of them come in where he was, nor did the husband rejoin the wife. He walked slowly up and down in the air, and she sat by herself in the room. Lin’s steps as he made ready round the stove and table, and Lusk’s slow tread out in the setting sunlight, were the only sounds about the cabin. When the host looked into the door of the next room to announce that his meal was served, the woman sat in her chair no longer, but stood with her back to him by a shelf. She gave a slight start at his summons, and replaced something. He saw that she had been examining “Neighbor,” and his face hardened suddenly to fierceness as he looked at her; but he repeated quietly that she had better come in. Thus did the three sit down to their meal. Occasionally a word about handing some dish fell from one or other of them, but nothing more, until Lusk took out his watch and mentioned the hour.