Read The Wrong Woman Online

Authors: Charles D Stewart

The Wrong Woman

BOOK: The Wrong Woman
9.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Wrong Woman, by Charles D.
Stewart, Illustrated by Harold M. Brett
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at
http://www.gutenberg.org/

Title: The Wrong Woman

Author: Charles D. Stewart

Release Date: July 25, 2007 [eBook #22140]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WRONG WOMAN***

 

 

E-text prepared by Al Haines

 

 

She saw that she would have to continue
her journey afoot

 

 

The Wrong Woman

 

BY
Charles D. Stewart

 

 

 

THE COPP CLARK COMPANY LIMITED
TORONTO

 

 

 

COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY CHARLES D. STEWART
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

 

CONTENTS

 

CHAPTER
I
CHAPTER
V
CHAPTER
IX
CHAPTER
II
CHAPTER
VI
CHAPTER
X
CHAPTER
III
CHAPTER
VII
CHAPTER
XI
CHAPTER
IV
CHAPTER
VIII
CHAPTER
XII

 

 

 

ILLUSTRATIONS

 

She
saw that she would have to continue her
journey afoot (page
13) . . . . . .
Frontispiece
The
stars, a vast audience, had all taken their places
"There's
number one," Steve remarked casually
In
the very midst of that dread ordeal, a test

 

From drawings by Harold M. Brett

 

 

 

The Wrong Woman

 

CHAPTER I

Having made final inspection of the knots of her shoe-laces and the
fastenings of her skirt, Janet turned toward her "perfectly horrid" oilcoat,
which, as usual, had spent the night on the floor. As it would never come off
till she had tortured her fingers on the edges of its big rusty buttons, she
always parted from it on unpleasant terms, casting it from her; whereupon this
masculine garment fell into the most absurd postures, sprawling about on her
bedroom floor, or even sitting up, drunkenly, in the corner,which latter it
could easily do, being as stiff as it was yellow. This time it had caught by one
arm on the back of a chair, and it came so near standing alone that it seemed to
be on the point of getting along without the chair's assistance. As Janet stood
considering its case, she turned her eyes toward the window to see what the
weather had decided, and now she saw the farmer leading forth her pony. She went
to the window and opened it wider.

"Please, Mr. Wanger, make it tight. He always swells himself out when he sees
he is going to be saddled. Then, when he has gone a little distance, he lets
himself in, and both the girths are hanging loose. That's one of his tricks."

She leaned farther out and made further observation of the weather. As the
air was mild and the sky serenely blue (though you can never tell about a Texas
Norther), she took Sir Slicker by the nape of his collar-band and dropped him
out of the window to be lashed to the saddle; then she turned to the mirror
again, and, having done the best she could with the hat, she went to take leave
of the farmer's family, who, as she judged by certain sounds, were assembled at
the front of the house awaiting her departure. But scarcely had she stepped into
the adjoining room and shut the door behind her, when the buxom, blue-eyed Lena,
rushing in from the porch, met her with a hug that was more like a welcome than
a leave-taking.

"Oh, goo-o-o-bye, Miss Janey. I am so-o-o sorry. I t'ink you are so-o-o sweet
and nice."

And then Lena, whose open Swiss nature was either at the summit of happiness
or down in the valley of despair, regarded her ruefully for a space, and after
one more hug and the shedding of two large healthy tears, accompanied her out to
the porch. There the Wangers were waiting and the children standing in line to
be kissedquite as if she were a dear relative, or at least an acquaintance of
more than four days' standing. Janet kissed them all; and having done so she
proceeded to the hitching-post, followed by the entire family, down to little
Jacob, who stationed himself at the very heels of the broncho, and was so far
forgotten by them all, in their concern with Janet's affairs, that they did not
think to rescue him from his perilous situation till it was everlastingly too
late, the horse having by that time moved away. And then Jacob, who had been
studying his elders closely, after the manner of his tribe, guessed the meaning
of those farewell words which he had not been able to understand; and as she
drew away he opened his mouth and bawled.

Her route, which lay forty miles before her with but one stream to ford,
might be described as simply a fenced road on each side of which was open
prairie and the sky; for, though this land was all private property, the
holdings were so vast that the rest of the fence could not be seen as far as the
eye could reach. As this gave the roadside fence the appearance of not inclosing
land at all, but rather of inclosing the traveler as he crossed over the vacant
waste from town to town, the stretch of wire seemed to belong to the road itself
as properly as a hand-rail belongs to a bridge; and this expansive scene, while
it was somewhat rolling, was of so uniform and unaccentuated a character in the
whole, and so lacking in features to arrest the eye, that the road might be said
to pass nothing but its own fence-posts.

For a while Janet's thoughts dwelt upon her experience with the farmer's
family, the final scene of which now impressed her more deeply as she realized
how promptly these good folk had opened their hearts to receive her, and how
genuine was their sorrow at seeing her go; and this reflection imparted so
pleasant a flavor to the world that her mind kept reenacting that simple scene
of leave-taking. But when she had got well out to sea,for that is the effect of
it except that the stretch of wire puts the mind in a sort of telegraphic touch
with the world,she drifted along contemplating the prairie at large, all
putting forth in spring flowers, and for a time she seemed to have ridden quite
out of the Past; but finally, recalling her affairs, her mind projected itself
forward and she fell to wondering what the Future might have in store.

There was nothing to answer her, and little to interrupt her speculations.
About the middle of the forenoon, or later, she encountered a fellow-traveler in
the person of a cowboy on a bay pony. At first a mere speck in the distance, he
grew steadily on her vision, and then went riding past, life-size and lifting
his sombrero; which salute she acknowledged pleasantly, smiling and inclining
her head. A very strong fellow, she thought, whoever he might be. A while later,
as she was jogging along with her mind on the horse, whose need of a drink was
now a matter of growing concern to her, she came to where a wooden gate opened
upon the roadside, and here, after a moment of doubtful consideration, she
entered; and having closed it and got into the saddle again by means of its
bars, she struck out across the prairie with the intention of casting about
until she should come upon one of those spring-fed water-holes which are always
to be found, here and there, upon the cattle range. For a time it looked as if
her horse would have to go thirsty; but just when she was beginning to feel that
she must not venture farther, she found herself upon a slight rise or swell from
which she made out a group of cattle in the distance, and with this promise of
success before her she put her horse to a gallop and set out for it, slapping
him with the reins. Presently, the ring of black muck becoming plainly visible,
she knew her quest was at an end; and her thirsty animal quickened his pace as
if he caught scent of the water.

There now ensued a course of conduct upon the part of the horse which was
strange. There was a small mesquite bush near the water-hole which lay directly
in the horse's course, and Janet, seeing he was almost upon it, and not wishing
him to leap it, as a running cow-pony will often do, gave the reins a jerk to
make him dodge it, the which he did, and that with a suddenness which only a
cow-pony would be capable of. A cowboy's horse is so used to outdodging wild
cattle that such a sudden turn is nothing to him. But now, instead of going to
drink, he gave a leap and broke into a mad race, splashing right through one end
of the water-hole and continuing onward. It was such a burst of speed as only
the wildest rider could have roused him to; and he kept it up despite Janet's
efforts to stop him. To her, it seemed as if no horse had ever gone at such a
pace before. At every leap forward she felt as if he must shoot straight from
under her. She supposed he had taken fright at something; but instead of
slackening his pace as he got farther away, he rather added to his speed like a
horse in a race. Though there was nothing ahead which he seemed to be going to,
and nothing behind which he could now be running from, he did not abate his
efforts; he pushed forward

As one pursued with yell and blow
Still treads the shadow of
his foe
And forward bends his head.

Poor Janet, utterly ignorant of the cause, and knowing not whither she was
bound, rode a mad ride to nowhere-in-particular. At times she pulled hard on the
bridle, but without effect; he kept right on with her. She clung desperately to
her seat. There was nothing for her to do but ride; and so many strange things
seemed to have happened at once that she was almost bewildered. Altogether he
gave her a ride which, in her own opinion afterwards, threw into insignificance
the adventures of Mazeppa or John Gilpin, or even the experiences of the Ancient
Mariner "alone on a wide, wide sea."

The reason for the horse's hurry would appear to be a very good one when
brought to light and explained; and this we shall probably be expected to do at
this point, an historian having no choice but to tell what actually happened.
There had been a mishap in the saddle-bow. The bow is that little arch in front
which, when the saddle is in place, fits over the bony ridge above the horse's
shoulders. This part of Janet's saddle, instead of being made in the good
old-fashioned way,which consists in selecting the fork of a tree and shaping it
to the purpose,had been more cheaply manufactured of cast iron; and that part
of the bow which clasps the withers and sits on the shoulders spread out in the
form of iron wings or plates. The saddle, at some time in its history, had
received a strain which was too much for it, and one of the iron wings broke
partly across; and this flaw, hidden by leather and padding, had been lurking in
the dark and biding its time. When Janet braced her foot in the stirrup and made
the horse dodge, it cracked the rest of the way, whereupon the jagged point of
metal pressed into his shoulder with her weight upon it. It was nothing less
than this that was spurring him on.

A saddle-bow, into which the horse's shoulders press like a wedge (for it
must not rest its weight on top of the withers), needs to be strong, because it
is the part which withstands whatever weight is thrown into the stirrups in
mounting or making sudden evolutions, besides which it takes whatever strain is
put on the horn; in short, it is what holds the saddle in place. With a broken
bow and girths that are none too tight, a rider's seat is but temporary at the
best; and it is safe to say that Janet's ride was not quite as long as it
seemed. With a broken bow a saddle must, sooner or later, start to turn,and it
is a strange sensation to upset while you are sitting properly in the saddle
with your feet in the stirrups; it is impossible seeming; and with a woman, who
is fastened more tightly to the saddle itself, the sliding of the girth on the
horse's barrel is as if she were soon going to be riding upside down.

Janet, sticking valiantly to her seat and riding like a trooper, felt
suddenly that peculiar sensation and had a moment's horror of she knew not what.
The next she was aware of she had struck ground in some confused and complicated
way and quickly got herself right side up. And while she felt that she ought to
be dead or at least badly injured, she had done nothing worse than to crush down
a lot of spring flowers. And there sat Janet.

Her horse, relieved of the pressure on the sharp iron, and brought to a halt
by her final desperate pull on the reins, was standing stock-still, his saddle
askew like a Scotchman's bonnet, and his ears laid back. But scarcely had she
located him when he began to pitch and kick, and with the surprising result that
the saddle slipped entirely round.

BOOK: The Wrong Woman
9.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Zodiac by Robert Graysmith
Choices by Skyy
What a Man Needs by Patricia Thayer
The Astral by V. J. Banis
The Infinite Sea by Rick Yancey
GeneSix by Dennison, Brad
Clockwiser by Elle Strauss
Murder Mountain by Stacy Dittrich