Though Champ Lee had business in Mesa next day that would not be denied,
he was singularly loath to leave the ranch. He wanted to stay close to
Melissy until the dénouement of the hunt for the stage robber. On the
other hand, it was well known that his contest with Morse for the Monte
Cristo was up for a hearing. To stay at home would have been a confession
of his anxiety that he did not want to make. But it was only after
repeated charges to his daughter to call him up by telephone immediately
if anything happened that he could bring himself to ride away.
He was scarcely out of sight when a Mexican vaquero rode in with the
information that old Antonio, on his way to the post at Three Pines with a
second drove of sheep, had twisted his ankle badly about fifteen miles
from the ranch. After trying in vain to pick up a herder at Mesa by
telephone, Melissy was driven to the only feasible course left her, to
make the drive herself in place of Antonio. There were fifteen hundred
sheep in the bunch, and they must be taken care of at once by somebody
competent for the task. She knew she could handle them, for it had amused
her to take charge of a herd often for an hour or two at a time. The long
stretch over the desert would be wearisome and monotonous, but she had the
slim, muscular tenacity of a half-grown boy. It did not matter what she
wanted to do. The thing to which she came back always was that the sheep
must be taken care of.
She left directions with Jim for taking care of the place, changed to a
khaki skirt and jacket, slapped a saddle on her bronco, and disappeared
across country among the undulations of the sandhills. A tenderfoot would
have been hopelessly lost in the sameness of these hills and washes, but
Melissy knew them as a city dweller does his streets. Straight as an arrow
she went to her mark. The tinkle of distant sheep-bells greeted her after
some hours' travel, and soon the low, ceaseless bleating of the herd.
The girl found Antonio propped against a piñon tree, solacing himself
philosophically with cigarettes. He was surprised to see her, but made
only a slight objection to her taking his place. His ankle was paining him
a good deal, and he was very glad to get the chance to pull himself to her
saddle and ride back to the ranch.
A few quick words sent the dog Colin out among the sheep, by now
scattered far and wide over the hill. They presently came pouring toward
her, diverged westward, and massed at the base of a butte rising from a
dry arroyo. The journey had begun, and hour after hour it continued
through the hot day, always in a cloud of dust flung up by the sheep,
sometimes through the heavy sand of a wash, often over slopes of shale,
not seldom through thick cactus beds that shredded her skirt and tore like
fierce, sharp fingers at her legging-protected ankles. The great gray
desert still stretched before her to the horizon's edge, and still she
flung the miles behind her with the long, rhythmic stride that was her
birthright from the hills. A strong man, unused to it, would have been
staggering with stiff fatigue, but this slender girl held the trail with
light grace, her weight still carried springily on her small ankles.