The New Prince

Un jour, Ripley Givens s'est rendu au ranch du Double Elm pour s'informer.

Josefa O'Donnell was the surviving daughter, the princess. From her mother she inherited warmth of nature and a dusky, semi-tropic beauty. From Ben O'Donnell the royal she acquired a store of intrepidity, common sense, and the faculty of ruling. The combination was one worth going miles to see. Josefa while riding her pony at a gallop could put five out of six bullets through a tomato-can swinging at the end of a string. She could play for hours with a white kitten she owned dressing it in all manner of absurd clothes. Scorning a pencil, she could tell you out of her head what 1545 two-year-olds would bring on the hoof at per head. Roughly speaking, the Espinoza Ranch is forty miles long and thirty broad but mostly leased land. Josefa, on her pony had prospected over every mile of it. Every cow-puncher on the range knew her by sight and was a loyal vassal. Ripley Givens, foreman of one of the Espinoza outfits saw her one day, and made up his mind to form a royal matrimonial alliance. Presumptuous? No. In those days in the Nieces country a man was a man. And, after all the title of cattle king does not presuppose blood royalty. Often it only signifies that its owner wears the crown in token of his magnificent qualities in the art of cattle stealing.

One day Ripley Givens rode over to the Double Elm Ranch to inquire about a bunch of strayed yearlings. He was late in setting out on his return trip, and it was sundown when he struck the White Horse Crossing of the Nieces. From there to his own camp it was sixteen miles. To the Espinoza ranch it was twelve. Givens was tired. He decided to pass the night at the Crossing.