It was a perfect spring morning. The air was fresh, and the sky, ablaze with golden beauty of dawn, was studded, with wind-tossed, swift-moving cloud-flecks. It was a morning to stir the pulses of the old ranchman, and set the sturdy tide of his vigorous life in full flood. He stood for a moment in the doorway of the log shack, which was his sleeping quarters, and breathed deeply of the mountain air. Then, with a characteristic hunch of his shoulders, he passed out to begin his day’s work.
He moved down to the corral, where, now that the warming spring days had come, the milch cows were housed for the night. His first task was to hay and milk them. But for once his task remained unfulfilled. The bars of the corral were down, and the place stood empty.
For some moments he stared stupidly. To him the discovery was incredible. It was even staggering to his self-confidence. The cows, that were his work to shut up for the night, had got out. It never occurred to him that the bars might have been set up carelessly. It never occurred to him that he could have made any mistake. The cows had been set in their corral overnight. They should still be there in the morning.
His study became active. He looked at the fallen bars. He looked at the cloven hoof-prints in the still soft soil about the entrance. Then his eyes hardened and narrowed and a curious thrust took possession of his bewhiskered chin. He had become a victim of one of his hasty, obstinate opinions that came so easily. He passed to the log barn and saddled up his horse.
After that he hurried up to the house.
Then came an exhibition of the man’s regard for the girl. He said no word of the thing that preoccupied his mind, but contented himself with warning her that the cows had strayed.
“They broke out,” he declared, implying no blame to himself. “They made a getaway. I’ll jest git a sip of your swell coffee, Molly, gal, an’ beat it after ’em.”
Molly, in the midst of her cooking, looked round from the stove.
“Sure you will, Lightning,” she said. “And you’ll get your feed with it. An empty stomach’s no sort of thing to chase up ‘strays’ on. Just sit around while I fix things.”
The man obeyed. He took his place at the spotless table set with homely ware for two. And in less than two minutes he was noisily devouring the bacon and beans, of which, in all his years, he had never yet grown tired.