The Forfeit Read Free

that's worth while in me would die plumb out."
    He paused. Bud's shrewd eyes remained studying the emotion-lit features of this usually unemotional man. He felt he was being admitted to a peep at a soul that was rarely, if ever, bared, and he wondered at the reason. Was it a calculated display, or was it the outlet for an emotion altogether too strong for the man's restraint? He inclined to the former belief.
    "Nothin'has happened?" he enquired presently, in his direct fashion.
    Jeff laughed without any visible sign of lightness.
    "No," he said. Then with a deep sigh. "Thank God nothing has happened. But--"
    "Then the trouble--?"
    "The trouble? Say, Bud, try to get it all as I see it. It's difficult. The boy's away up trapping and shooting-for a living-somewhere in the Cathills. He's away there living on hard pan, while I'm here steadily traipsing on with you to a big pile. Remember he's my other-half. Do you know how I feel? No, you can't. Say, he's as merry as I am-dour. He's as fond of life, and play, and the good things of the world as I'm indifferent to 'em. He's reckless-he'sweak ." Suddenly Jeff's eyes lit. A great passion seemed to surge through his whole body. "Bud, I want him here. I want to be always around to help him when he gets bumping into potholes. It's that weakness that sets me crazy when I think. He ain't made for the dreary grind of the life we live. That's why he cut it out when I came here. Well there's no grind for him now, and I want to have him come along and share in with me. That's why I'm talking now. From this moment on we're a great proposition in the ranching world, and I want Ronny to share in with me."
    Bud nodded.
    "I get it," he said. Then he added: "You're a great feller."
    "Great! Cut it out, Bud," Jeff cried sharply. "It's my love for that other half of me that's talking. That merry bit of a-twin."
    "An' you're sendin' for him?"
    Jeff shrugged, and depression seemed suddenly to descend upon him.
    "If I could fix it that way I don't guess I'd have opened my face to hand you all this. But I can't. He's in the Cathills, away a hundred and more miles northwest of us. That's all he says. He don't give a mail address. No, Bud, I'm going to hunt him out. I'm going to find him, and bring him back. I'll find him sure. We're just one mind an' one body, an'," he added thoughtfully, "I don't guess I'll need a detective bureau to locate him. If he was chasin' around the other end of the world I'd find him-sure. You see, he's the other half of me."
    Bud nodded in sympathy, but made no verbal reply.
    "See, Bud," Jeff went on, a moment later. "The spring round-up's through. We're going to fix this deed right away. When the attorneys have robbed us all they need, and Nat's handed over, there'll be a good month to haying. That month I'm going to spend in the Cathills. I'll be back for the hay."
    The other eased himself in his rocker. Then for some moments no sound broke the silence of the room.
    "It's been a heavy spring," Bud said at last.
    Jeff nodded. His thoughts were away in the Cathills.
    "Seems to me," Bud went on. "Work kind o' worries me some these times." He smiled. "Guess the wheels need the dope of leisure. Mebbe I ain't as young as you."
    "No."
    Jeff's attention was still wandering.
    "Guess the Cathills is an a'mighty big piece o' country gropin' around in," Bud went on.
    "Sure. A hell of a piece. But-it don't signify."
    "No-o," Bud meditated. Then he added: "I was kind o' thinkin'."
    "How?"
    "Why, mebbe two folks chasin' up a pin in a bunch o' grass is li'ble to halve most o' the chances agin either of 'em jabbin' their hands on the business end of it."
    "Two? You mean you're goin' to come along an' help find-Ronny?"
    Jeff's eyes were expressing the thanks his lips withheld.
    Bud excused himself.
    "Them Cathills is plumb full of fur an' things. Say, I ain't handled a gun in weeks."
    "Bud, you're--"
    The door of the room was abruptly flung open and Jeff's words remained unspoken.
    "Supper,