Picture Show (May-Oct 1919)

18 Tltc Picture S/toir, .Trinr It/,, 1919, tioncd Stanley tactfulU', but it was plain he could tell her nothing. And BO Bob McKeever began to stay away from her. It tore his heart to do it, but he Bet his jaws hard and sufiered w-ithout a word to her. "Maybe I'm too old for her, and the kid is good-looking and her own age," he thought bitterly. " Yes, and she knows he's the son of an English earl. Maybe, if she knew all I know, she wouldn't set so much store by that. But 1 shan't tell her — not I ! "Anyhow, if the kid gets her, he'll have to be made into a man, first." And Bob never altered in his treatment to Stanley Somerfield. When the boy did well, he praised him, and saw that no other man interfered, or got the credit of his work. If he slacked or showed signs of sullenness, Bob never spared him. Many a time Stanley cursed his employer bitterly beneath his breath. Many a time he complained to Maisie, wlio seemed always ready to ]jity and console him. But in the back of his mind, witli a sense of wonder he could not help feeling that McKeever was just. In his heart, he knew that he had never rcsj)ected a man so much before. And in Maisie's company he found some of that gentleness of home for which liis nature pined. On the whole Stanley flourished and was happy. "I'm well fixed here," he told himself.. " I shall stay on. McKeever must find me useful, or he wouldn't trouble himself about me the way he docs. Shall I marry Maisie, and never go home ? " His thoughts brightened and he began to be full of day-dreams. The old conceit and self-confidence began to ri.se again, but this time he felt it rested on a more solid basis. " McKeever says I have done well," he told Maisie. " I shall sign on again when my present contract is finished. 1 can tell you, he doesn't praise me without good cause." And he laughed proudly, and held his handsome head erect, not noticing that Maisie looked at him rather oddly. He had not told her what that original contract was, and yet Maisie knew. " I'm very glad you have got on so well," she said, rising to her feet. '• Bob McKeever is a man ! Good-bye ! " And holding; out her hand to him, she turned and quitted the room. It was a .sore shock to Stanley's new-found conceit, but worse befell him two days' afterwards, when McKeever called him into his private room. "The debt ia wiped off now. young Somerfield," he said abruptly. " You are free to go. I'm not denying that you shafjcd better tharf I ever thought you would. But I have no place open for j ou on this ranch any longer. Yon were doing ^n extra hand's job, and all my other boys are experienced men. I can't turn away oiie of them to make place for you. But with the experience jou havo had you can get a job easily enough. I'll give you a letter to a pal of mine down south who is looking out for a good stock-rider. Stick to your work as you did here, and there is a good future before you. The cattle thieves arc out, and J must go. H*re is the letter of recommendation. And now, good-bye and good-luck ! " Had a thunderbolt fallen at Stanley's feet he could hardly have been more hurt and surprised. In his new-ffiuiid conceit he had almost come to regard himself as McKeever's right-hand man. And now here he was, <ii.smi.s.sed as it were, without a moment's notice. And there was that about Bob's tone and look tliat showed there was no room for 'argument. Stanley took the letter and the outstretched liand almo.st mechanically, and stuttered a good-bye. After that he remembered almost nothing until he found himself galloping wildly across the plain, his blood boiling with rage. " Chucked out ! Turned away ! It's because of the girl ! " lie told himself bitterly. " I'll be even with him for this, by thunder I will ! What shall I do ? Glo and visit her ? Ask her to run away with me ? No, I'll get a job first, and then I'll come back and niarry her before his eyes ! " Fuming in this way, Stanley Somerfield galloped on south, all the old evil propensities seeming to gather and gain weight with him as he rode on. He would gel level with McKeever at all costs — by fair means or foul, he told himself. He had been riding for hours before he paused to think where he was going, or what he would do next. He drew up his horse near a little rocky gorge, and looked about him. And as he did so his eyes caught sight of a little group of men, ten or a dozen, riding towards him. They were cattle-men, no doubt, for beiore them they were driving a herd of some fifty steers. Stanley gazed on them for a moment without understanding, and then a sudden light broke upon him. They were the cattle-thieves, rounding up McKeever's cattle ! They were coming towards him, straight for the gorge, and for a moment a sudden thrill of fierce delight shot tlirough the young man's mind. Already ho was moving forward his horse with the cry: " I'm with yoa, boys! Take me on, and I'll show you where to find a bigger haul ! " upon his lips, when a sudden strange revulsion of feeling came over him The vision of Bob McKeever's face, stern, just and reproachful, rose before him. It seemed to him that he heard Maisie utter a cry and bury her face in her hands. Already the cattle were near the mouth of the gorge. Stanley sutklenly rode out, but M(U-<iC mid Slunhij Soimrjirld. it was with his head high, and a six-shooter levelled in his grasp. " Hands up, you thieving skunkjs ! " he roared. " Hands up, Danny Raggett '. I've got the cinch on you, and I have twenty men at my liack ! " The last statement was sheer bluff, but it had its effect. More than half the men bolted. Two or three, more desperate, opened fire, while the startled cattle broke back and scattered far and wide. A bullet struck Stanley's horse and brought him down. Stanley felt his case was desperate. The ground about him was littered with empty cartridge-cases. He was running short of ammunition. Danny Raggett and his two friends who had remained staunch were creeping nearer, taking advantage of every cover, firing as they came. " The last round ! " thought Stanley bitterly, and was saving it for the final rush which should destroy him, when a~checr rose far behind him, and Bob McKeever, with twenty stout fellows behind him, came riding into view. Stanley rose to his feet in his excitement, answered their cheer, and fired his last round. It brought down Dani;y Raggett as he showed himsL'lf incautiously. The sight was the last that Stanley beheld as, overcome with fatigue, lie swooned away. Her Choice. THE lad is a man, Maisie ! ' said Bob McKeever proudly, when he was rjcounting this adventure to the girl the next day. '" I told you I would make a man of him, -and I did! Now I'll tell you who he is. He's my own half-brother, younger ."^on cf the Earl ol Somerfield. You needn't stare so. Long ago my father and his came to this country, a remittance man, like himself. " He married my mother, and I am their only son. Then, when he came into his title,' he went back to the old country, and never wrote to her to follow. She was too proud to complain. Anyhow, she stayed behind, and she never saw him more. I worked the ranch when I grew old enough, and a bitter time I had. Then when my mother died — of a broken heart I have often thought — I sold the place and came up here. " I wouldn't bear the old lord's name, not I ! I took my mother's, and I mean to keep it. But when I came across this young fellow, and guessed who he was, I thought I would give him a chance. And I did— though it nearly broke my heart to carry it through ; for I believe he has stolen the heart of the only girl I ever loved ! But never mind, Maisie, he is worth it ! He has proved him-self a man ! " And Bob's voice broke as he held out his hand. Then Maisie did a strange thing. She stepped straight up to Bob and kissed him on the lips. " No, Bob ! " she said. " You are the man I love ! " ^" But — but jJon't you want to be Lady Somerfield ? " stammered Bob, who seemed unable to understand his own happiness. " You goose ! I can be if I choose ! Woiv't you be the next earl ? -But I'd rather marry plain Bob McKeever if It was left to me!" was the answer. Bob's face grew radiant. " That's good, Maisie, that's real good ! '* he said. ''I'll take you at your word. Let the boy have the title and the lands. He'.s proved him.self a man, and it will suit him better than me. • To tell you the truth, I have a letter here from the old earl asking me to make it up, and go to England to bj his heir. He .says the young chap is worthless. We know he is not. What shall I say ? " " Say I'd rather be Mrs. Bob McKeever, and thank him for his offer," said Maisie in a wliLsper, as she nestled into her big lover's arms. (Adnpleit from iiiriiienls in the photo play, fefittirini/ WILLIAM FARNUM in •'True lilue." bu permiis'on of the Fox Film Compnuy).