Barbie had grown some more, even durin' the little time 'at I'd been away. She had got used to the new rig she wore an' wasn't a mite awkward, an' her face was firmer an' more self-composed. She was purtier too, though it don't seem possible. It even seems more impossible when I tell ya that she looked more like of Cast Steel than ever. He an' the girl was a heap alike, 'cept that he was big an' raw-boned an' spare-featured; while she was as dainty as an antelope, an' as far as looks went, she was the Queen Bee of Creation, I reckon.
When it came to ridin' a bucker or shootin' off an eye-winker or expressin' herself free an' frank, she didn't have to import no testimony to prove 'at she was his daughter either. She had him skinned on ridin' though; 'cause while he was able to set anything on four feet, he allus showed 'at he had begun late in life, an' he sometimes jerked the bit unintentional; while she—well, I reckon she must 'a' been born on hoss-back, an' besides, I had give her all the pointers the' was.
One mornin' about ten days after I'd come back, I heard 'em discussin' purty heatedly out back of the corral; an' I just sauntered over to harken to it. It wasn't a case of eavesdroppin', 'cause when them two had any comments to make they didn't care a blue bean what the prevailin' style in opinions happened to be, they nailed their own personal jedgments on the wall an' then stuck around handy to back 'em up. I was particular anxious to know what they was crossin' words over, 'cause I couldn't get it out o' my head but what my comin' back an' findin' 'em peaceable betokened something.
Jabez was standin' with his feet wide apart, his hands on his hips, his hat tilted over one ear, his chin stickin' out with the lips pursed up, an' his eyes had a dogged look in 'em. Line by line an' feature by feature, she shadowed him to the last item; an' neither one of 'em saw a twinkle o' comicalness in it, neither.
"Do you know who you're talkin' to?" he yells just as I arrived. "I'm your father!"
"What of it?" she snaps back. "It's too late to remedy that—I just got to make the best of it. But do you know who you're talkin' to? I'm the future owner of the Diamond Dot, an' I ain't a-layin' no plans to have the lala-kadinks from the civilized parts o' this country come out an' round up my langwidge, same as they gather Injun speciments. You may be my father, but you can just bet your saddle that before I reach the end o' my trail, a stranger won't be able to guess it from our talk."
Now the old man was mighty savin' with his cuss-words, a' he put out a purty tol'able fair grade o' grammar; but the girl had an eye in her head and an ear to listen with, an' she had been for a long time takin' notice o' the side winks o' the Easterners. Some Easterners put on their manners the same as their complexions, an' the open air is apt to put cracks in 'em.
The of man looked at her a good long while, but she never blinked a winker; an' he finally turned away an' said in a soft-like voice, "I know, child, I ain't been able to fill the part full measure—but it ain't 'cause I haven't tried. I reckon you'll have to go, honey; but it'll sure be lonesome while you're away; an' when you do come back you'll never be my little kid any more." His voice kept gettin' sadder an' sadder until I about snuffled myself when he continued "I'll rub up my talk all I can while you're away, an' then if you bring out any friends next summer you can tell 'em that I'm the foreman an' that you let me eat in the house while your father is takin' a trip to Europe."
The ol' man would have played that part about as natural as a bull buffalo, but he fooled himself into believin' it, an' his voice was purty shaky at the end. Barbie's eyes filled up with tears, an' when he stopped an' began to totter feebly toward the house, she ran up an' threw her arms about his neck, an' said. "Dad. I just hate you—you don't play fair. You start the game under one set o' rules an' then when you get the worst of it you just simply crawfish. When we were sayin' mean things out in the open, I just natchly put it all over you; an' now you flop over on your back an' work that 'coals o' fire' stunt, an' I just hate you. You know in your heart I'd be proud of you in any company on earth, but the' is a heap o' difference between you an' me. You have been successful, an' strangers will respect you for it; but it's got to be a show-down with me every time. If I don't learn the new gaits, so a stranger will think I'm city-broke, some fresh tourist is apt to get the idee that I'm as uncivilized as my manners, an' it won't do to tramp on my toes—not overly often. But I don't have to leave you. I'll just turn in an' do the job right here on the ranch, an' accordin' to the very latest models. You get me a lot o' books an' all the magazines an' fashion papers, an' hanged if I don't turn out a job 'at'll fool the best of 'em. You're a mean old Daddy, you are, for a fact; but we snake too dandy a duet for me to go away an' leave you to grind out a solo all alone. But—but I sure wanted to go."
Well, Jabez grinned all over; but I saw that he wasn't through with it so easy. Barbie wasn't the one to throw her rope before she was all braced for the jerk, an' the' wouldn't be any kinks in her logic, neither. She had thrown a purty stout string of arguments, an' I was full prepared when they told me that he was to have his way about it, an' she was to go to college that very fall.
She did go in less'n a month to a prep-school clear down East. A prep-school is a sort of a calf college, you know; an' she had to train there a solid year before they had the nerve to turn her loose on a full-grown university. But she had a head on her, Barbie had; an' when she got squared away, she made 'em all get down an' scratch. They do say that she put more life an' vim in that institution than anybody what had ever give it a work-out before.
Ol' Cast Steel went down twice the first winter, an' never let her know 'at he was in the neighborhood, for fear it would make her think 'at he was pinin' for her. He just went down there an' bought some store clothes an' prowled around waitin' for the chance to see her at a distance—never even lined out the professors to see if they were doin' their duty, nor mixed in the game the slightest bit. Talk about bein' game? I reckon that puts a shadow on anything ever that man had to face.
She used to come back every summer, bringin' a lot of chums an' all kinds o' pets with her. She was just daffy over any kind of a wild animal from an Injun papoose to a white mouse; an' when she'd go back in the fall, Jabez had his hands full with parrots an' alligators an' butterfly coons an' sech—to say nothin' of a lot of potted flowers what was mighty notionable in their tastes.
I was so busy tendin' to this branch o' the outfit that about all the ridin' I did was for exercise—yes, an' for company, 'cause it allus seemed as if she was along when I'd be out on the range. Then, again, I allus felt a kind of drawin', myself, to the silent people, who think an' wish an' feel, just the same as we do, but aren't able to handle our langwidge. I got so I could purt' nigh tell what an animal had on his mind, just from tendin' to her speciments.
She had one speciment which was a possom, an' the blame thing bit me eight times one winter, me tryin' to give it baths—an' then she wrote back home that the doggone critter didn't need'em nohow. She purt'nigh got expended for takin' a rattlesnake back to the university an' keepin' it hid in her room; an' after I'd had a deuce of a time catchin' 'em, they made her send a bob-cat an' a mountain lion to some kind of a garden—wouldn't let her keep 'em at all. The professors allus was a sore trial to her, but once she began a thing she allus fought it through, so she put up with 'em the best way she could.
She used to tell us that bein' housed up like to 'a' drove her crazy at first, an' they was so tarnation fussy that she felt like a hobbled pony in a stampede. They wouldn't even let her picket her ponies out in what they call the campus, which she said was just drippin' fat with rich grass, an' nary a hoof to graze it. Why, they even had fool notions about havin' certain hours about goin' to bed, an' even when you had to put your lights out.
One night she got fidgety an' nervous with the lonesomeness of it, an' she got up about one o'clock an' fired her revolvers out the window,—just for sport, you know, like a feller sometimes will when he's—well, when his soul gets kind o' itchy like,—an' it purt' nigh started a riot. She said 'at we wouldn't never believe how different the people was down there. I reckon a university must be run a good bit like a penitentiary. But as I said, she wasn't no quitter, an' I reckon, takin' it all in all, she give 'em back about as good as they sent.
Course we could see a lot o' change in her when she'd first come back, but it seemed to slide off as the tan came on, an' by the time she left in the fall again she'd be purty much the same old Barbie. She went full five years, countin' the prep-school, an' I don't suppose they was much in the way o' learnin' they didn't filter through her; but it didn't spoil her, an' the very moment her knees clamped on a pony again you could see that her blood was as red as ever, even if her face was roses an' cream. My heart allus beat out of time when I knew she was headin' back; but the very minute she gave my hand the old-time grip I knew she was still the old-time girl, an' when she'd turn to the chums an' say, "Girls, this is Happy," why, I was big brother to the lot, an' before they went back I'd teach 'em ridin' till they could giggle on hoss-back without fallin' off. They all owned up that she was the takin'est girl at the university, and while her pals was a mighty attractive lot, they didn't have to use any arguments to convince me it was the truth.
She allus left me so much to do when she was away that I never felt like leavin' through the winter; while durin' vacation time I wouldn't have gone without bein' drove; but toward the middle of her fourth year, me an' Bill Andrews had another little run in.
We was havin' a terrible streak of weather, an' Bill wanted to move a herd over to the southwest corner of the ranch where the' was some extra good bunch grass. It was a wise move all right, an' I said so; but when he wanted me to help trail 'em, I vetoed it. I was watchin' up some experiments with silkworms an' I didn't want to leave 'em. We were short-handed an' Jabez 'lowed 'at I'd better go. Well, we argued back an' forth until he finally said that he could take full care o' the silkworms, an' intimated that my work with 'em wasn't much but pastime, anyway.
That settled it with me. I helped drive the herd, an' it was the bitterest weather we'd ever had. The sleet blew in the cow's faces an' it was simply one long fight. Three o' the boys gave up an' pulled back to the ranch house, but not me. I don't believe I slept on that drive, night or day, an' when, the boys finally told Bill Andrews that it couldn't be done, I told 'em that it could, an' that if any more of 'ern dropped out I'd count it a personal insult. We got 'em there all right, an' then I rode back to the ranch house.
Jabez had let the silkworms die—an' I told him what I thought of him, an' pulled out. It was cold weather an' I was travelin' on foot, but it wasn't cold I was suffer in' from, it was heat.
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