"It is harder to endure, Jack, because so much my own fault, all my life I must feel in a measure responsible, and I cannot feel hopeful as you insist you do, perhaps for that very reason. However, we must not talk too much of this now, to-morrow will be time enough. You must keep all the strength and self-control you possess for to-night."
It was more than a year later, and Jean Merritt and Jacqueline Ralston were in Jean's beautiful bedroom in the big house on the Rainbow ranch. Jean was sitting on a low couch with her hands clasped tightly together, while Jack was moving restlessly up and down the large, fragrant room.
"But I can't make a speech to-night, Jean, not after the bewildering news we have just received, although I will not believe it to be final. Why did I ever think I could? Yet surely there is a sufficient reason now for me to be excused!"
"Sit down for a few moments please, Jack," Jean answered with such an evidence of self-control and of unselfishness that her companion suffered a swift emotion of shame and compunction.
"Now there isn't any question but you must go on to-night with what you intended doing. Remember we all have decided that, for the time at least, it will be wiser to keep secret the information we have just received. Therefore you cannot make this your excuse for failing to speak as you planned. If you fail to speak this evening it will appear either that you are afraid to say what you think, or else that you have changed your opinion."
Jack flushed.
"But Iamafraid. Am I not the last person in the world you would ever have dreamed attempting a public speech? And here I am involved in the effort to make one to-night, simply because I began talking first to our own ranchmen and then to the men on the neighboring ranches of some of the work I thought we ought to undertake in Wyoming. When I first began I did not know I was making a speech. To-night I shall probably know it without being able to make it. Still, I don't want to talk aboutmyself in the face of your problem, Jean. Now let us go over the news you have received and see if we both understand. Ralph has been away over a year, hasn't he, working always at the mine in New Mexico and writing regularly? The mine so far has not proved a success, but Ralph insisted that he still had faith in it and never spoke of leaving, or changing his work. Now word arrives that two weeks ago he had a serious fall into a pit which had been left uncovered, but that he seemed not badly hurt, only a little bruised and shaken and that he had continued with his duties that same day as if nothing had occurred. Then next morning, as he failed to appear, one of his men going to look for him found his tent empty. He has not been seen since. Yet no one had heard him go away in the night and there was nothing to suggest that he had intended remaining away, as his clothes and private papers were left behind. Naturally the people at the mine believed we had heard some word of him, and I believe we soon shall hear. Ralph will write or come to the Rainbow ranch, I am convinced of it. What is it you really think, Jean?"
Jean shook her head.
"I don't know what to think. Some tragedy may have happened to Ralph, or he may simply have grown too weary and discouraged to remain where he was any longer."
Getting up, Jean began walking up and down the big room with its rose-colored carpet as if her uncertainty and unhappiness must have a physical outlet.
"I have never told you in so many words, Jack, although I must have said enough for you to guess that Ralph and I parted without the tenderness and faith I should have shown him even if I believed he had made mistakes, because the mistakes were made chiefly for my sake. I thought I had learned a good deal in this year of his absence, but perhaps it was not enough, so I must bear this new anxiety. Ralph would have been happier married to you, Jack, than to me; I have thought this a good many times. You care nothing for wealth and society; I have always cared too much until lately. Now after this year with all of you at the old ranch I was learning a new set of values; except for wanting Ralph I have been so happy here just as we used to be as children, even if we have a new group of younger Ranch girls. Now, unless I hear from Ralphwithin the next twenty-four hours I mean to go to New Mexico to find him. I should have been with him through this year, enduring the hardships he has been forced to endure, instead of living in comfort and idleness here at the ranch."
"But you have not lived in idleness, Jean, whatever else you may accuse yourself of. Managing this big place, keeping house for Jim and his little girls and for Frieda and her family is hardly being idle. Jim says he has not been so at ease since Ruth died. It's funny Jim told me he thought it wiser for Professor Russell to go in search of Ralph unless we receive word immediately than that he should go, although Jim and Ralph are devoted friends. Jim says that Henry is a scientist, but a more practical man of affairs than the rest of us give him credit for being. Yet somehow I don't believe Jim is willing to leave us alone at the ranch, not only his own little girls, but you and Frieda and Olive and me. He insists on driving me over to Laramie to-night, although I do not feel he likes my speaking in public. However, when I asked his advice he merely said: 'Go ahead, Jack, do what you wish to do; your life is your own. If I am anold fogy and should prefer you to stay quietly at the lodge, I never have expected it of you since you came back and resumed your American citizenship. As long as you don't go too far I'll stand behind you.'"
Jack smiled.
"Of course I don't know what Jim means by 'too far,' but I suppose he will tell me in time. Now I am going away, Jean dear, and leave you to try to rest. Remember, I believe firmly that we shall hear from Ralph within the next few days, or the next few hours, who knows? But Olive and Captain MacDonnell will stay with you to-night, as Frieda and Professor Russell wish to drive over to the Woman's Club with me. At least if I am to make a speech I am glad it is to be made there. Frieda is too funny. She is torn between being rather proud of my being a sufficiently prominent person in the neighborhood for people to be willing to listen to me, and thinking it unwomanly of me to attempt to speak. Besides, I think she shares my present conviction that I am going to break down and so disgrace myself and all of us. Yet it is such a simple thing I wish to talk about, and anyone ought to be able to say what one thinks."
As Jack rose, Jean placed her hands on her cousin's shoulders, her brown eyes gazing steadfastly into Jack's gray ones.
"No, it is not going to be difficult for you to-night, Jack, not after you have once started with your speech. It will be difficult at first, of course, to face an audience of men and women for the first time in your life. You have said a good many times just what you will say to-night, but I know that you have never considered before that youweremaking a speech. But it will be a success, Jack, because to you it is always a simple thing for people to be straightforward and honest and public-spirited. Now go and lie down yourself for an hour or so. I am going to see what the little girls are doing."
Jack laughed.
"No, I am going off for a ride alone, Jean. It is funny, but Billy Preston, one of our cowboys, told me I should not ride alone, not even over our own ranch. Already there seems to be a good deal of feeling against me because of what I have been advocating. As if I were of enough importance to be considered dangerous! But please don't speak of this to any one else; I must ride alone now and then, and I have promisedJim never to leave our ranch without an escort. It is curious that I can think better on horseback than at any other times. Other people manage the same thing by lying down, or walking through the country, or in crowded city streets. I believe some writers can only dictate when they are striding up and down their rooms. But I am off now, really this time, Jean. I'll have a light supper at the lodge, as we start about seven. In the morning I'll tell you the worst, or probably Frieda will tell you before I can see you."
A moment after Jacqueline Kent was gone.
After her departure Jean suffered a stronger sensation of discouragement. It was always true that Jacqueline Kent possessed a vitality so keen and a sweetness of character so inherently sincere, that one was apt to be stimulated and cheered by her companionship.
Later in the same day driving toward town, Jack remained unusually quiet. She was riding in the front seat of a Ford car seated beside Jim Colter and listening with some amusement to her sister Frieda's conversation with her husband, which Frieda had not the slightest objection to having overheard.
"I feel perfectly convinced that Jack is going to break down, Henry, or perhaps noteven be able to begin her speech when she faces her audience. I do wish I had not come. Of course you and Jim won't mind so much because you are no real relation to Jack, so I shall feel much more embarrassed than anyone else. However, my one comfort will be that if Jack does make a complete failure to-night she will never attempt to speak in public again. I don't see why she should care so much what the other ranchmen in Wyoming do, so long as we are successful with our own ranch. But then one never has been able to count upon what Jack would think or do. We are not in the least alike."
"But my dear Frieda," Professor Russell expostulated, speaking in a hushed voice intended only for Frieda's ears, "don't you think it unkind of you to suggest failure to your sister at this late hour? If you did not wish her to speak you should have remonstrated earlier."
"Oh, I did talk to her; indeed I am sure I have discussed nothing else for the past week. Sometimes I have told Jack I would never forgive her, if she went on with what she had been doing, and then again I advised her to make a perfectly wonderful speech atthe Woman's Club to-night, just to show the stupid people who object to her how clever and charming she is, and how right. Of course I think Jack is right about a few things now and then."
In answer to Jack's gay laughter from the front seat and Jim Colter's chuckle, even to her husband's amused smile, Frieda continued undisturbed.
"Frieda dear, you are a tonic and I won't dare fail if you feel as you do about me," Jack called back over her shoulder. "You are more refreshing than Jim, who tells me I am sure to succeed in convincing my audience to-night, when deep down inside of him he is sure I will not. Yet you won't desert me if the worst happens, Frieda?"
Frieda shook her blonde head.
"No, Jack, I shall never turn my back upon you really, no matter what you do, even if I disapprove of it most dreadfully, perhaps not even if you should run for some public office in the state of Wyoming as if you were a man. Of course the suggestion is absurd, but I did hear some one say you might become an influence in the state of Wyoming."
"Yes, that was absurd, Frieda dear,"Jack returned, resting her head lightly on Jim Colter's shoulder and closing her ears to Frieda's patter in order to try to think more clearly of the task ahead of her.
The subject upon which Jacqueline Kent was to speak to-night was a simple one, so simple that she had not understood why there should be any opposition to her suggestion. In the beginning it had been only a suggestion.
Jacqueline Kent desired the ranchmen of Wyoming to increase the number of their livestock and to have larger herds of cattle, and droves of sheep, with a view of making the state of Wyoming the most important ranch state in the country. The world was never before in so great need of food and clothing.
Yet soon her little talks with the Rainbow ranchmen and the men from the adjoining ranches became known throughout the neighborhood. Then to her surprise Jack discovered that a large number of the prominent men in Wyoming opposed her suggestion. Among these men were Senator Marshall and her former acquaintance, Peter Stevens, who was employed as an attorney to limit the supply of livestock raised in Wyoming.
To-night Jack had been asked to present her view of the question before a group of men and women in the Woman's Club in Laramie. The building was a large one. Later, when Jack stepped out upon the platform she faced an audience of several hundred persons.
An instant the faces swam before her and her courage failed. Then she appreciated that her first sentences could not be heard beyond the first few rows of chairs.
Nevertheless Jack looked very young, attractive and frightened. Her color had vanished, her wide gray eyes held an expression of appeal for patience and understanding.
She was dressed in the costume she ordinarily preferred in the evening, a black tulle over black silk, cut with a square neck and with elbow sleeves, and, although of exquisite material, made in a simple fashion. Usually caring little for jewelry, to-night she was wearing a pearl and amethyst star which her husband had given her years before.
As her glance now swept the audience she beheld the faces she especially wishednotto see, Jim Colter's, her sister Frieda's, and her neighbors, Senator and Mrs. Marshall's. Not far away and staring fixedly at her was the somewhat grim countenance of her former acquaintance, Peter Stevens.
Upon Jim Colter's fine, deeply lined face—hiscoal black hair was now turning slightly gray—was a look with which Jack had been familiar since her girlhood. The look said more plainly than words that Jim was always there to fight her battles and whether she succeeded or failed, she could count upon him. Frieda's face was set and white and miserable, her blue eyes open to their fullest extent, announcing as plainly as her lips could have stated:
"Why, why did I ever permit Jack to make such a spectacle of herself? Have I not warned her that she could never make a public speech? Yet after all, the fault is partly mine, as I should never have allowed her to undertake such a task!"
It was Frieda's honest conviction that, as she had a great deal more common sense than either her sister or husband, it was not only their duty but their privilege to yield to her judgment in practical matters.
The expression with which Senator Marshall regarded her, Jack believed she recognized as one of amused tolerance, not unmixed with satisfaction. He had talked seriously to her of the mistake she was making in her present ideas. He also thoroughly disapproved of women attempting public speechesunder any conditions whatsoever, and of this Jack also had been kindly informed. Mrs. Marshall's attitude did not affect Jacqueline Kent in any fashion. Long before she had accepted the fact that Mrs. Marshall did not like her and resented any influence she might have gained in the neighborhood. Especially Mrs. Marshall had seemed to dislike her stepson John Marshall's boyish friendship and admiration for his neighbor. If John had come to hear her speak to-night he was not seated with his parents, for Jack's subconscious mind was registering these small and unimportant impressions even as her lips moved almost inaudibly in the address she was endeavoring to make.
However, the one face which seemed to arouse Jack more completely than the others was that of her former acquaintance, Peter Stevens. In the past year Peter Stevens had become more than an acquaintance. If they were not friends he appeared to enjoy calling at the Rainbow lodge, for one could count upon seeing him there probably once a week. His expression at present was undoubtedly one of pleasure at her failure. Jack felt distinctly angry.
"Louder," some one called from the backof the hall, and hearing the call, she paused and an instant remained silent. Speaking again, it was apparent that both her manner and voice had changed. The self-command which had in a measure deserted her was slowly being regained.
"I am sorry, I fear a good many members of my audience have not been able to hear what I have been saying," she answered, speaking in a fashion which seemed to take the men and women who were her listeners into her confidence, making the greater number of them her advocates rather than her critics. "I suppose it is scarcely worth while confessing that I have never made a public speech before and have no idea how much one should raise one's voice. Yet the subject I want to talk about to-night is such a simple and direct one that I really and truly don't see why it should be discussed in any public fashion. I am only here because some of you felt it might be wise for me to state my opinion. Nevertheless, I am sure I agree with any of you who feel my opinion may not be valuable.
"Most of you know that I came back from England more than a year ago and because I loved my own country better than my adopted one, I have resumed my American citizenship.Yet when I speak of loving my country I think I mean first of all that I love my state, the state of Wyoming, where I was born and lived as a girl, and that the parts of Wyoming I love best are her great and beautiful ranches.
"On my return, to my surprise I discovered that instead of the ranches in Wyoming having increased in the last few years and the quantity of livestock become greater, they now cover less acreage and the livestock is smaller in number. I was sorry; our state is so lovely, with its broad stretches of fertile prairies, our rivers and streams, and our hills set like a rim of jewels about them. So first I began talking to the men on our own ranch, the Rainbow ranch, asking them if it would not be possible to increase the number of our cattle and sheep. Since the close of the war we have heard of nothing but of how hungry the world is, at least the European world. So I did not dream there could be any objection if I talked to other ranchmen beside our own and asked them what their plans for the future were to be. We all know that many of the men who are now working on the ranches in the United States intend owning their own places as soon as possible. Many of them are soldierswho, having returned from the war in Europe, now wish to lead an outdoor life and enjoy the freedom and the independence which the ranch life offers. And wherever and whenever I have talked to the former soldiers who have come to dwell in Wyoming they have seemed to agree with me.
"The views of the people who oppose the idea of increasing the number of our ranches and the supply of our livestock I confess I am too stupid to understand. They seem to feel that Wyoming's future lies in her cities, in her mineral deposits, and even in her recent large manufactories.
"They believe we will receive less for our cattle and horses if we raise a greater number. Yet say this is true, and I do not accept its truth, how will the ranchmen be injured if the cost of the increase in his expenses is covered by the greater number of his stock? And this we have found to be the case in the past years' experiment with the livestock on the Rainbow ranch."
Jack paused again, but this time not because she was either frightened or embarrassed. She had given up the effort to make a speech after having undertaken it, having discovered that she was not being successful. Sincethen she had been talking to her audience in the same fashion that she would have spoken to any single individual who might have expressed an interest in her subject.
"I wonder," she remarked clearly and distinctly, "if there is any one present who is entirely unprejudiced and is willing to state the other side of this question, to explain why the state of Wyoming should cease to be a great ranch state. Perhaps Senator Marshall or Mr. Peter Stevens will speak upon the subject."
As Jack ceased there was a momentary pause followed by a ripple of laughter. The word "unprejudiced" had amused her audience. Peter Stevens was known to be employed by the interests who wished to decrease the supply of cattle in the state, while Senator Marshall's political party advocated the same point of view.
However, Senator Marshall so far accepted Jacqueline Kent's challenge as to arise in his place. Bowing, he said blandly:
"I never argue a point with a woman."
And first his retort was greeted with a murmur of indignation and then of renewed laughter.
Gazing directly into his face, Jack protested:
"But, Senator Marshall, do you not consider that the day has passed for failing to argue points with women? We are voters and if points cannot be argued, at least certain questions must be made plain. To-night we are in a Woman's Club built largely with the idea of offering women the opportunity to find out some of the problems they intend to understand."
A few moments later, having received no reply from Peter Stevens, who seemed to have chosen to ignore her request, closing her speech more eloquently than she had begun it, in the midst of friendly applause, Jack bowed and withdrew from the platform.
A little later amid a group of friends and acquaintances unconsciously she still held the center of the stage.
"You were not so bad as I expected, Jack, although I was a little disappointed in you," Frieda found time to murmur, feeling in the midst of her pessimism a great sense of relief. Not only was the speech over, but in spite of it Jack was looking extremely pretty and no less feminine than she had previously.
Jim Colter simply nodded his head to reveal his satisfaction, while her brother-in-law, Professor Henry Tilford Russell, shook hands, announcing frankly:
"You did yourself credit, Jack, not toattemptto make a speech. It is better to talk simply upon a subject until you know more about it, and afterwards for the matter of that."
But outside Jacqueline Kent's own family, many of her friends were enthusiastic.
"I do not see why we should not ask you to run for an office in the gift of the state of Wyoming some day, Mrs. Kent," the President of the Woman's Club declared in a tone sufficiently loud to be heard by a large group of persons. "No one denies that an American woman, Lady Nancy Astor, is making an excellent member of the British Parliament. Why should we be so much more conservative than England? Moreover, Lady Astor is an American woman."
In return Jack laughed, failing to attach any seriousness to the suggestion.
"Yes, but unfortunately I have none of Lady Astor's gifts," she responded. "Nevertheless there may be some one in Wyoming who has, and perhaps it would be interesting if Wyoming, one of the first states to give the vote to women, should be represented by a woman in Washington. You would dislike the idea very much, wouldn't you, Senator Marshall?"
Senator Marshall, who had come up to shake hands with Jack, nodded vehemently.
"I should indeed dislike it; I still am sufficiently old-fashioned enough to believe that woman's place is the home."
A voice behind his shoulder interrupted.
"Nonsense, father, you are simply afraid of Mrs. Kent as your possible rival, for if ever she is elected to Congress the next step will be to defeat you for the United States Senate."
The voice was John Marshall's, the senator's son and Jack's devoted friend.
"Thanks, but don't make the Senator disapprove of me any more than he does at present. I must live in peace with my neighbors."
A little to Jack's surprise Peter Stevens made no effort to shake hands with her or to speak to her, although she remained half an hour in the Woman's Club after her poor effort at speech-making was concluded. Peter Stevens was there also talking to other friends.
She was standing alone out on the sidewalk waiting for Jim Colter to drive up with the car, Frieda and her husband having moved a few feet away to speak to some one, when Peter Stevens' voice said unexpectedly:
"Good-night, Jack. I suppose it would make no difference to you to realize how intensely I disliked your speaking in public this evening." He and Jack within he past year had returned to their youthful custom of calling each other by their first names.
However, Jack's answer surprised him.
"Oh, I don't know; perhaps you are right. I might consider you an old fogey, Peter, to object to girls and women speaking what they believe to be true, but it is probably true that at least no one should speak in public who has no more talent than I possess. You were kind not to make me appear worse by displaying your learning and eloquence afterwards. No, I am not being sarcastic; every one says you are learned and eloquent. Yet in spite of your reputation, I have the courage to think you are mistaken about a number of matters. But here is Jim with the car, so good-night. Why, yes, of course I'll be glad to see you at the lodge; differences of opinion need not destroy friendship."
One spring day an automobile containing four men and two women drove up and stopped before the Rainbow lodge.
The half dozen guests must have been expected, because within a few moments after they were ushered into the big living-room of the lodge, which had altered but little in character in many years, Jacqueline Kent, who had been Jacqueline Ralston in the old days, came downstairs to greet her visitors.
The call could not have been merely a social one, else Jack would scarcely have appeared so pale and preoccupied and so unlike her usual radiant and vital self.
Slowly she had descended the stairs, and entering her own living-room had shaken hands with four of the six persons whom she knew and had then been introduced to the other two. Afterwards she sat down in a chair and listened quietly, rarely doing more than introduce a sentence now and then.
At the close of nearly an hour, when the visitors, declining to remain for dinner, had risen to say farewell, Jack also stood up, facing them.
She stood with the mantel and the bookshelves forming her background. Upon the mantel were several of the possessions she had treasured in her childhood, Indian bowls of strange shape and antiquity, her father's pistol, the first nugget of gold she and Frank Kent, who was afterwards to be her husband, had discovered in the Rainbow mine. In the old bookshelves were the self-same books she and Olive and Jean and Frieda had read and studied in their girlhood, studied far too little until the coming of Ruth to act as their governess.
Outside the big living-room windows Jack could see the long double row of tall cottonwood trees now grown through the years to mammoth proportions and away and beyond the purple fields of the blossoming alfalfa and the newly sprouting tender green spears of grain, all her own beloved and familiar background.
"I am sure you realize I appreciate the honor you have done me," she said finally, speaking in hesitating fashion. "Yet I donot believe I dare give you my answer this afternoon. You have been kind enough to say that I may have two more days for considering your proposal, and within that time I shall of course let you hear. You are sure you cannot stay longer, not even for tea?"
Ten minutes later, on the porch of the lodge Jack stood alone, watching the automobile containing her six callers roll down the avenue between the cottonwood trees and pass out the gate which separated the lodge grounds from the rest of the Rainbow ranch.
For a short time Jack continued her watch, glancing first in one direction and then in another as if expecting some one else to approach with an evident wish to see her.
The afternoon was in early May. The air blowing from the snow-capped hills closer to the western horizon brought with it the fragrances of damp wooded places, mingled with the wealth of prairie flowers over which it had more lately passed.
Jacqueline Ralston Kent threw back her shoulders, lifted her head and inhaled a deep breath.
"I wonder why Jim, Jean, Frieda and Olive do not come to find out what decision I have reached," she remarked aloud. "This must be some prearranged plan that I am to be left alone for a time. And yet it is unlike my younger sister, Frieda, not to continue to express her opinion and insist I agree with it whether or not it happens to be my own. Perhaps being left alone may be more effective than the usual family opposition toward bringing me around to their way of thinking. Yet the family is divided in their viewpoint, and so whatever I may do I must please some of them and displease others. If I am to be left alone I think I'll go for a ride. I wish Jimmie were here to go with me; I intend to talk my problem over with Jimmie—this and every problem we ever have to face. But of course with Jim looking after the branding of the new calves this afternoon what chance have I of Jimmie's being anywhere near?"
Not long after, with her costume changed to her riding-habit, Jack went back to the stable of the lodge and finding no one there, saddled her own mare, a present from Jim Colter several years before, and rode off.
Before leaving, she explained to the oldhalf-Indian woman who looked after her small household that she would not return until dinner time. If she were late Jimmie was to eat his dinner and not wait for her.
It was true that Jacqueline Kent felt she was facing this afternoon one of the greatest decisions of her life, almost as important a decision as her marriage. Perhaps in some persons' eyes a more important decision, since it was more unusual than marriage in the lives of most women.
It was so strange and so unexpected that at present Jack herself was scarcely able to accept the momentous fact. Yet here it was before her staring her in the face, awaiting her judgment and shutting out the dim spring loveliness of the sky and plains.
"Should she or should she not? Would she or would she not?" The refrain had a stupid sound in Jack's ears. She caught herself wondering which was grammatical and then concluded that both expressions were right in her case, since both her future and her will were involved in her present conclusion.
Who would have believed that upon her return to Wyoming, her simple desire to become an American citizen again and laterher interest in the prosperity and happiness of her state could involve her in such a situation? Within the last hour, was it really possible that she, Jacqueline Ralston Kent, one of the four original "Ranch Girls of the Rainbow Lodge," had been asked to accept the nomination for the United States Congress and become among the first women representatives in the country?
Jack bit her lips, put her hand to her face to feel the sudden flush which had suffused it at the thought of her own unfitness for so great a responsibility.
Then she gave her horse its head and started upon a swift canter; for a little while she must put away the question which so troubled her. Appreciating her own lack of knowledge and of training for the task ahead, why not decline at once and for all time ever to consider it? Yet on the other hand, had she the right to evade so wonderful an opportunity? She was young and could learn a good deal of what she should know in order to meet such a responsibility. Moreover, she did have the interest of her state at heart and some of her friends and acquaintances must have believed in her, else the nomination would never have been offered her.Besides, if she were honest, frank, and open-minded, would it not be a wonderful experience? Jack was only lately a girl, and in her heart of hearts felt it would actually be great fun to be among the early vanguard of the women who were to hold important political offices in the United States.
"Yet of course, even if I conclude to accept the nomination, I won't unless Jim Colter finally gives his consent. I refuse to be regulated by Frieda. Besides, why worry? After all, there is not one chance in a hundred that I shall ever be elected!"
Lightly Jack touched her horse with her riding whip; she had believed an ordinary gait would suffice to distract her thoughts for a little time, but evidently this was not sufficient. Her horse was moving quickly and evenly over the smooth road and still her thoughts had continued unchanged. He must break into a run—a run so swift and headlong, as if in a race for a goal, that all her thought should be centered upon his control. She needed to feel the strong rush of the wind in her ears, the splendid sensation of being a part of the movement which she so enjoyed.
She had promised not to ride outside of theRainbow ranch alone, an absurd promise which several of the cowboys had suggested, and which Jim Colter had insisted upon. She had made enemies within the last year by the outspoken position she had taken upon a number of questions. At present there were rumors that if she accepted the nomination to Congress she would be forced to regret it. Yet these rumors appeared to Jack as nothing save stupid gossip and sensationalism and not to be regarded.
However, boring as it might be upon occasions like this afternoon, when she would like to have gotten as far away from the Rainbow ranch as her horse could take her within a two hours' ride, nevertheless she intended keeping her promise.
The outermost borders of the Rainbow ranch were enclosed by a high paling fence to prevent the escape of the cattle.
When she had ridden a little more than an hour Jack arrived at one of the borders of the ranch, in the same vicinity where at one time there had been a serious dispute with a neighbor over the boundary line. This was near the end of the Rainbow creek, at one time considered chiefly valuable for the watering of the stock and afterwards found to contain valuable gold deposits.
Those had been strenuous and fighting days at the Rainbow ranch. First there was the effort to make a living for the family and then to achieve a certain amount of education for the four Ranch girls. Afterwards had come the adjustment of their legal rights to the ranch, in the days when the possibility that gold might be discovered made the possession too valuable to pass to four obscure young girls. How the manager of their ranch, a fellow named Jim Colter, who so far as the neighbors knew at that time had sprung from nowhere, had fought and won their battles for them!
Well, those old days had passed and this afternoon Jack concluded that no such perilous times could ever return, whether or not she chose to be among the pioneers and enter the political arena.
By this time she had ceased her rapid gait and had come to the bridle path which led along the far side of Rainbow creek. The path ascended among high rocks and crags, almost the only hilly portion of the entire ranch. At the top there was an especially fine view.
At present Jack rode slowly, allowing her horse opportunity to rest now and then after his swift run.
Jack herself felt in better spirits, more exhilarated. Not having fully reached a decision, nevertheless she had managed for a brief time to banish the question to her subconscious mind, hoping it was still wrestling with the problem and might later help her with its solution.
She glanced among the rocks and crags, remembering how she and the other Ranch girls had played hide and seek among them as children. Long before when Wyoming was largely inhabited by Indian tribes the Indians had lived among these rocks sheltered from their enemies. Indian treasures had been discovered buried under the earth or fallen between crevices of stone.
Reaching a level space of ground, Jack reined in her horse and sat still, silhouetted against the sky. Behind her the sun was setting in purple and gold clouds. Below she caught a glimpse of another figure on horseback approaching in her direction. Putting her hand to her lips Jack called "Hello." She was under the impression that the rider was either Jim Colter or one of the Rainbow ranch cowboys, and they were all her friends. As it was growing late it might be pleasant to have an escort home.
A lifting of a hat and a wave of a hand returning her greeting, Jack uttered a little exclamation of surprise.
She waited until Peter Stevens had climbed up the bridle path and was beside her.
"I have come to ask you, Jack, if there is any possibility of your accepting the offer which was made you to-day? Please understand that it is no secret. There has been talk of your nomination for Congress for a good many months, not weeks. I presume you realize that if you accept you will be my opponent? I also am to run for the same office, unless you would like me to withdraw. I am willing if you wish to have me do so. Yet I would give up a good many more important things in my life if I could persuade you to refuse this nomination. I know you think I am old-fashioned, narrow, dogmatic, yet with all my heart and all my intelligence I oppose the thought of our American women holding public office. And you of all women, Jack! Why, with all the experience of life you think you have had, you are little more than a girl. It must be impossible for you to realize the jealousies, the calumnies and feuds that will be aroused by your action. In this past year I have seenyou fairly often; never so frequently as I desired, yet you must have learned to know whether you like or dislike me. Won't you be my wife, Jack, and go with me to Washington in that capacity and not as my political adversary? I would do a great deal to prevent your making such a mistake."
More surprised than she cared to show, Jack shook her head, her face slowly flushing.
"I am sure you are very kind, Peter, and I do appreciate the honor you have done me, because I do realize how great a sacrifice you are making. Yet perhaps you need not have been put to such a test, for although I cannot accept your offer, perhaps I shall not accept the other offer either. I know my own limitations for such a distinguished office as well as even you can know them. However, I make no promise. Will you ride back to the lodge to dinner with me?"
Peter Stevens shook his head and an hour after Jack arrived at the Rainbow lodge alone.
Jack, however, did not reach a decision that night, although many hours she lay awake continuing to revolve the subject in her mind.
The next day the opposition she again encountered was even keener than any that had gone before.
Not long after breakfast Frieda made the first family appearance, bringing her little girl with her.
Seeing her sister approach, Jack, who had stepped out of doors for a moment for a breath of fresh air, feeling more fatigued than she scarcely ever recalled being at this hour of the morning, gave a quickly suppressed sigh and then held out her arms to Peace.
Thoroughly she and Frieda had gone over this question of her possible nomination when the matter simply had been under discussion. Frieda had then aired her views as fully as it seemed possible that any expressionof opinion could be aired. Not for a single instant was Jack even to allow her mind to rest upon the idea. "A woman politician in the family!" Personally Frieda felt and announced that she could not endure the disgrace.
From the first had she not warned her sister that public speech making would lead to something more disastrous?
Now as Jack greeted her sister she was painfully aware that Frieda's face wore the familiar expression it was wont to wear when she had appointed herself both judge and jury in a case and allowed no counsel for the defendant.
Pretending to ignore the expression, nevertheless, Jack felt a little ominous sinking of the heart. She was not prepared to allow Frieda to make this decision for her, and had so informed her, as gently and firmly as possible, in their previous talks together upon the self-same topic.
And Jack did not wish to be drawn into any further argument this morning, and certainly not with her sister. All her life she had hated argument more than any one of the four Ranch girls, and in the old days used often to run away for a ride or a longwalk, leaving the matter to be settled by the other three, who discussed the point to exhaustion.
"Glad to see you, Frieda dear, it is nice to see you so early in the morning and with the baby, especially when I am tired, which does not happen often to me. Will you come indoors or shall we walk about among your old violet beds? They are blooming in special abundance. Perhaps it may amuse Peace to gather some and take them home to the big house. I always feel as if I were selfish having so much more enjoyment from your flower beds than the rest of the family. Remember, Frieda dear, when you planned to be a florist and to rescue the family by selling violets? It was sweet of you."
"I'll stay outdoors and Peace can gather the violets if she wishes, but I did not come down to the lodge at this hour to discuss violets. I never do anything early in the morning, as you know, unless it seems to me excessively important. I know those people appeared here yesterday afternoon, Jacqueline Ralston Kent, to offer you the nomination for Congress; they want you to become a Congressman, or Congresswoman. Who ever heard of such a foolish title? Now I wish to knowprecisely what answer you gave them. I would have walked down to the lodge last night with Henry, except that both Henry and Jim Colter insisted I should leave you alone and give you time to think the matter over for yourself before I spoke to you again."
"But you haven't anythingdifferentto say, have you, Frieda, so why let us talk of it at all?"
"To that I will agree only upononecondition, Jacqueline Kent. You must promise me to refuse this nomination once and for all time and never so long as you live have anything to do with politics either in this country or in England."
"That is rather a tall order, don't you think, Frieda?" Jack answered, purposely looking in another direction rather than toward her sister's face.
Frieda always would appear to her a grown up and glorified baby, so long, when they were little girls together, had she looked upon Frieda almost more as a mother than as an older sister.
"Yet unless you do promise, Jack, it can never be the same between us again. So please listen carefully before you reply.
"I know at other times I have objectedto small things that you wished to do and sometimes you went ahead and did them without regard to my feelings or my judgment and I never said anything much afterwards even if they did not turn out successfully. But this is abigthing and adifferentthing, and if you act against my wish I told Henry last night I should never really forgive you, even if for the sake of appearances we pretended that things were the same. I have been much embarrassed recently at your becoming a prominent person in the neighborhood; of course I wished you to be prominent socially and to become a leader, like Mrs. Senator Marshall. She would then be obliged to take second place, in spite of her husband's distinguished position. But the idea that you, my sister, could actually become interested in politics!" Frieda pronounced the word as if it were a deadly poison. "Why, it simply never dawned upon me, not for the longest time! When we went about to parties together after you had been in Wyoming a year I began to hear people say laughingly that Wyoming needed a young and charming woman to represent her in political life so that she should not fall behind the other states. So why were you not theperson, as Lady Astor was in England? The cases were a little alike, you had married an Englishman and had the title of Lady Kent, but after your husband's death had preferred to return to your own country, renounce your title and resume your American citizenship. You had gone through all the necessary legal formalities to attain that end, you were clever and good-looking and your actions had proved you were a thoroughly patriotic American. The fact that you said you did not belong to any party was perhaps best of all, as women needed to be independent in politics. They were the new voters and should not be slaves to parties as so many American men were.
"This is as nearly as I can remember what was said about you, Jack. There were other things, not so flattering, but I presume most persons would not like to mention them before me. However, I paid little attention at first, as I thought it was all just talk, because most people have so little to talk about really. Even when you began making speeches about the things you wish to have accomplished in the state of Wyoming (as if your opinion was of any value), why, I did not trouble specially! It all seemed soabsurd! Indeed, when you spoke to me a few days ago of what might occur and declared that the nomination for the Congress of the United States might actually be given to you, though I said everything against it I could at the time, I did not really believe it. Then yesterday afternoon actually it happened! But perhaps you refused to consider the suggestion, Jack. Indeed, I feel sure after what I have said to you and knowing Jim Colter's attitude, even if he has said but little, you must have refused. If so, I am sorry to have tired you by talking so much; I am sure I hate talking at any length unless I feel it my duty."
"And you do feel it your duty this time, don't you, Frieda?" Jack answered, slipping her arm through her younger sister's.
"Still, having done your duty, don't you think that after all I may be allowed to use my own judgment in this decision? Suppose I happen to think that life just now is offering me a great and surprising opportunity! It is surprising for me to have been chosen for this distinction; I feel this as keenly as any one of my family or friends, knowing my deficiencies, can feel it! Now don't you think it's unfair to threaten me, Frieda, tothreaten in the one way which you know hurts most, the loss of any part of your affection, if I cannot make up my mind to do what you think best for me, not what I may think best for myself? I have never in all our lives, Frieda, suggested that any act of yours could possibly make me care for you less."
Frieda's voice wavered a little.
"Yes, I know, Jack, but then I would never do anything so rash and so foolish as what you contemplate. To see your name in the newspapers, to know that people are everywhere discussing your private affairs, making up disagreeable stories about you if they wish, for you know you are unconventional, Jack, and sometimes do give people opportunities to misjudge you, well, I simply can't bear it. So come on, baby, let us go back home, I see we are in the way here. I apologize, Jack, for wasting your time and mine. I had some socks of Henry's I wished to darn, and I should have been much better employed, as I see you already have reached your decision. Well, Jack, I am sure something very unfortunate will come of any such decision; when you become a public character you will certainly never be the same person to me."
Frieda had slipped her hand inside her little girl's and was about to move away when Jack's arms went round her and her gray eyes, filled with tears, gazed into Frieda's implacable blue ones.
"Frieda, in spite of all your sweetness, don't you realize that you are rather hard sometimes? I wonder if life will ever teach you to be different?"
Frieda's eyes wavered an instant.
"I see nothing to be gained by discussing my weaknesses of character. So long as I satisfy my husband and child I can manage without your good opinion, especially now I know that my interest and my wishes have not the slightest effect upon you." Frieda walked resolutely away.
Several minutes after her departure Jack continued standing in the same spot. Frieda had opened her eyes. She had been thinking that she was still uncertain of her decision and now knew that unconsciously her mind was made up. She intended to accept the nomination which had been offered her and to do everything in her power honestly to win the election.
Returning to Wyoming where she had lived as a child and young girl, she had confidedto Jim Colter that she must look for some new and absorbing task to fill her life now that her married life was over. What this interest would be she had not then conceived. What it might be in the future was still uncertain. Yet the next step lay straight ahead.
Never in all their lives had she and Frieda had so serious a difference of opinion, and Frieda's words and manner had hurt more than anything that had happened since her return to the security of her former home. She could only hope that Frieda would relent, that Professor Russell would use his influence in her favor. Nevertheless, although frequently led by Frieda in small matters, on this occasion she had not been in the slightest degree affected. This was a big decision which she faced, a decision in which Frieda had but scant right to interfere. Of course she must allow for prejudice, certain suggestions which her sister had put forward had made her wince more than she cared to show. But over and against the small things was there not the one big opportunity that she might serve both her country and other women if she did not fail too completely in the work which might or might not lie ahead?
Then in a boyish fashion wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, Jack laughed. "Oh, Frieda will probably forgive me if I make a success, never if I am a failure! People forgive nearly everything to success."
"Jimmie," she called a little later, running around the side of the lodge where her small son was engaged in playing with a magnificent St. Bernard dog which had been a recent gift from Jim Colter, "won't you go up into the woods behind the Rainbow creek with me and spend the day? We will take our lunch and I'll take my rifle. I don't believe there are many animals left in our woods these days, but there used to be years ago and at least we can play at being pioneers."
But Jack and Jimmie were not to escape so easily.
Opening the gate which led from the front yard half an hour later, they came face to face with Jean Merritt and Olive MacDonnell.
"Trying to run away into your beloved outdoors in the usual fashion, Jack?" Olive said, smiling. "Well, you may go after a while, but Jean and I wish to talk to you first."
"Please don't," Jack murmured, slippinga hand into the hand of the two other original Rainbow ranch girls. "Frieda has already reduced me to tears by overmuch conversation this morning. One could scarcely describe the conversation as argument, as I was allowed to say nothing. Oh, I know, Olive, that you and Jean will not be so obdurate as Frieda and will allow me a point of view on the subject, but just the same, spare me, because I have made up my mind, provided Jim Colter does not positively refuse his consent. I shall not go against Jim's command, although I may against his wish. Otherwise I mean to accept the nomination, poor, uneducated, inefficient, stupid female person that I am and ever must remain."
"Jack, you haveonemember of your family who will stand by you whatever comes, as you have stood by me in the past year," Jean Merritt announced. "I have not said a great deal while the rest of the family has been doing so much talking and yet I believe I am glad of your decision. I know one is prejudiced against the idea, not so much of women in politics as of a young woman like you, Jack, who is so beautiful and charming and sincere and one whohappens to be so near one's own affections. I suppose disagreeable things will be said of you, yet I know of few women so brave and so straightforward, or better able to bear calumny. And I don't see why people think that marriage always protects a woman from unhappiness; it has not protected me."
Jean rarely spoke of her own sorrow and only in moments of the deepest emotion, so that Olive and Jack both flinched at the close of her little speech, and temporarily at least Jack's problem took second place.
In more than a year, since Ralph Merritt's departure to act as mining engineer in a gold mine in New Mexico, no human being who had ever known him before had laid eyes upon him. In all the time since, no word had arrived of his mysterious disappearance from the mine, and no word had ever been received from him addressed either to Jean or to any one of his family or friends. Utterly and completely he had vanished. Months had been spent by Professor Russell in investigating his whereabouts, every clue had been followed, yet from the moment Ralph was known to have gone into his own tent to lie down until thepresent, no other news of him had been unearthed.
"I still have faith that things will adjust themselves for you some day, Jean, I don't know exactly why. I appreciate I have no possible evidence to support the idea, but I have always believed and do still believe that Ralph will come back some day and be able to explain the mystery of his disappearance."
Jack gave Jean's hand a tight squeeze.
"Jean, it does help a lot to have you say you will stand by me. I may be brave to-day, but to-morrow I shall probably turn coward. Olive, what about you and Bryan?"
Olive let go her friend's hand and did not answer for a moment. She was always quieter and more reserved in her manner than the other Rainbow ranch girls.
"Bryan and I talked over your possible decision until after midnight, Jack. Bryan argued you would accept, I argued you would not. Bryan seems to have known you best. He says you are made of the right material for what you are to undertake. Yet he dreads it all for you as much as I do, the fatigue, the misunderstanding. It seems impossible to me, Jack, as you must appreciate, and yet you and I are wholly unlike.But I believe you are the most courageous woman I have ever known, just as you were the most courageous girl. One thing Bryan wanted me to say both for him and for me. He believes you will not care for the notoriety, not even for the fame, if it should come to you, but only for the opportunity. And he and I both want you to understand that we will doeverythingin our power to help you, whatever course you may pursue. You see, dear, Bryan insists I feel toward you like the old axiom, 'My country, right or wrong, but still my country.' However, I told him the old axiom was not only stupid but wrong. One's country must be right, and so must your choice be."
"Hero worship, or rather heroine worship," Jean remonstrated. "Olive had that same absurd attitude toward you as a girl, didn't she, Jack? So small wonder you think you are a sufficiently important person to be nominated for the Congress of the United States! But don't let us keep you any longer from your beloved woods. Jimmie evidently does not know the poem about the small boy: 'Who was never bad, but always good, who never wriggled, but always stood.' So good-by and a happy day."
"You'll tell Jim to come in to speak to me before he goes to bed," Jack called back over her shoulder, as she and Jimmie started off together. "I must send word in the morning what my decision is and so I must see Jim first."
After a day in the woods Jack was undressing for bed, having decided that it was too late to expect Jim Colter, so she must try to get hold of him before he left home next morning, when she heard a familiar whistle.
"I'll be down in a minute, Jim," she called, thrusting her head out the open window. "Will you come in? The door is open."
"No, I'll wait out here," came the answer back. "Don't dress, I shall only stay a moment. Some business detained me."
A little later, with her hair in two gold braids and holding a violet dressing gown close about her, Jack faced the real test of the long day.
"May I, or may I not, Jim?" she demanded.
Jim Colter shook his head.
"You are a full grown woman, Jacqueline Kent, not a child, not even a very young girl. Not that I remember having reached decisions for you even in those days."
"Which means I was always obstinate, Jim."
"Always a bit obstinate, Jack."
"But I am not obstinate to-night, Jim Colter, and I won't if you say no."
Jim shook his iron-gray head.
"I shall not say no, Jack; you must decide as you think best."
"And if I go wrong you'll help me meet the consequences, even though you would rather I chose the other way?"
"So help me, yes, Jack Kent."
"All right, Jim, unless you forbid me, I have decided. If I am elected, and in ninety-nine chances in a hundred I won't be, do you suppose I will have to spend the greater part of my time away from the old ranch?"