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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/10942-0.txt b/10942-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..24679e3 --- /dev/null +++ b/10942-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5896 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10942 *** + +THE CLAIM JUMPERS + +_A ROMANCE_ + + +BY + +STEWART EDWARD WHITE + + + + +1901 + + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + + I.--JIM LESLIE WRITES A LETTER + II.--THE STORY-BOOK WEST + III.--BENNINGTON HUNTS FOR GOLD AND FINDS A KISS + IV.--THE SUN FAIRY + V.--THE SPIRIT MOUNTAIN + VI.--BENNINGTON AS A MAN OF BUSINESS + VII.--THE MEETING AT THE ROCK + VIII.--AN ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT + IX.--THE HEAVENS OPENED + X.--THE WORLD MADE YOUNG + XI.--AND HE DID EAT + XII.--OLD MIZZOU RESIGNS + XIII.--THE SPIRES OF STONE + XIV.--THE PIONEER'S PICNIC + XV.--THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN + XVI.--A NOON DINNER + XVII.--NOBLESSE OBLIGE +XVIII.--THE CLAIM JUMPERS + XIX.--BENNINGTON PROVES GAME + XX.--MASKS OFF + XXI.--THE LAND OF VISIONS + XXII.--FLOWER O' THE WORLD + + + + +CHAPTER I + +JIM LESLIE WRITES A LETTER + + +In a fifth-story sitting room of a New York boarding house four youths +were holding a discussion. The sitting room was large and square, and +in the wildest disorder, which was, however, sublimated into a certain +system by an illuminated device to the effect that one should "Have a +Place for Everything, and then there'll be one Place you won't have to +look." Easels and artists' materials thrust back to the wall +sufficiently advertised the art student, and perhaps explained the +untidiness. + +Two of the occupants of the room, curled up on elevated window ledges, +were emitting clouds of tobacco smoke and nursing their knees; the +other two, naked to the waist, sat on a couple of ordinary bedroom +mattresses deposited carefully in the vacant centre of the apartment. +They were eager, alert-looking young men, well-muscled, curly of hair, +and possessing in common an unabashed carriage of the head which, more +plainly than any mere facial resemblance, proved them brothers. They, +too, were nursing their knees. + +"He must be an unadorned ass," remarked one of the occupants of the +window seats, in answer to some previous statement. + +"He is not," categorically denied a youth of the mattresses. "My dear +Hench, you make no distinctions. I've been talking about the boy's +people and his bringing up and the way he acts, whereupon you fly off +on a tangent and coolly conclude things about the boy himself. It is +not only unkind, but stupid." + +Hench laughed. "You amuse me, Jeems," said he; "elucidate." + +Jeems let go his knees. The upper part of his body, thus deprived of +support, fell backward on the mattress. He then clasped his hands +behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. + +"Listen, ye multitude," he began; "I'm an artist. So are you. I'm also +a philosopher. You are not. Therefore, I'll deign to instruct you. Ben +de Laney has a father and a mother. The father is pompous, conceited, +and a bore. The mother is pompous, conceited, and a bore. The father +uses language of whose absolutely vapid correctness Addison would have +been proud. So does the mother, unless she forgets, in which case the +old man calls her down hard. They, are rich and of a good social +position. The latter worries them, because they have to keep up its +dignity." + +"They succeed," interrupted the other brother fervently, "they succeed. +I dined there once. After that I went around to the waxworks to get +cheered up a bit." + +"Quite so, Bertie," replied the philosopher; "but you interrupted me +just before I got to my point. The poor old creatures had been married +many years before Bennie came to cheer _them_ up. Naturally, Bennie has +been the whole thing ever since. He is allowed a few privileges, but +always under the best auspices. The rest of the time he stays at home, +is told what or what not a gentleman should do, and is instructed in +the genealogy of the de Laneys." + +"The mother is always impressing him with the fact that he is a de +Laney on both sides," interpolated Bert. + +"Important, if true, as the newspapers say," remarked the other young +man on the window ledge. "What constitutes a de Laney?" + +"Hereditary lack of humour, Beck, my boy. Well, the result is that poor +Bennie is a sort of----" the speaker hesitated for his word. + +"'Willy boy,'" suggested Beck, mildly. + +"Something of the sort, but not exactly. A 'willy boy' never has ideas. +Bennie has." + +"Such as?" + +"Well, for one thing, he wants to get away. He doesn't seem quite +content with his job of idle aristocrat. I believe he's been pestering +the old man to send him West. Old man doesn't approve." + +"'That the fine bloom of culture will become rubbed off in the contact +with rude, rough men, seems to me inevitable,'" mimicked Bert in +pedantic tones, "'unless a firm sense of personal dignity and an +equally firm sense of our obligations to more refined though absent +friends hedges us about with adequate safeguards.'" + +The four laughed. "That's his style, sure enough," Jim agreed. + +"What does he want to do West?" asked Hench. + +"_He_ doesn't know. Write a book, I believe, or something of that sort. +But he _isn't_ an ass. He has a lot of good stuff in him, only it will +never get a chance, fixed the way he is now." + +A silence fell, which was broken at last by Bert. + +"Come, Jeems," he suggested; "here we've taken up Hench's valuable +idea, but are no farther with it." + +"True," said Jeems. + +He rolled over on his hands and knees. Bert took up a similar position +by his side. + +"Go!" shouted Hench from the window ledge. + +At the word, the two on the mattress turned and grappled each other +fiercely, half rising to their feet in the strenuousness of endeavour. +Jeems tried frantically for a half-Nelson. While preventing it the wily +Bert awaited his chance for a hammer-lock. In the moment of indecision +as to which would succeed in his charitable design, a knock on the door +put an end to hostilities. The gladiators sat upright and panted. + +A young man stepped bashfully into the room and closed the door behind +him. + +The newcomer was a clean-cut young fellow, of perhaps twenty-two years +of age, with regular features, brown eyes, straight hair, and sensitive +lips. He was exceedingly well-dressed. A moment's pause followed his +appearance. Then: + +"Why, it's our old friend, the kid!" cried Jeems. + +"Don't let me interrupt," begged the youth diffidently. + +"No interruption. End of round one," panted Jeems. "Glad you came. +Bertie, here, was twisting my delicate clavicle most cruelly. Know +Hench and Beck there?" + +De Laney bowed to the young men in the window, who removed their pipes +from their mouths and grinned amiably. + +"This, gentlemen," explained Jeems, without changing his position, "is +Mr. Bennie de Laney on both sides. It is extremely fortunate for Mr. de +Laney that he is a de Laney on both sides, for otherwise he would be +lop-sided." + +"You will find a seat, Mr. de Laney, in the adjoining bedroom," said +the first, with great politeness; "and if you don't care to go in +there, you will stand yourself in the corner by that easel until the +conclusion of this little discussion between Jeems and myself.--Jeems, +will you kindly state the merits of the discussion to the gentleman? +I'm out of breath." + +Jeems kindly would. + +"Bert and I have, for the last few weeks, been obeying the parting +commands of our dear mother. 'Boys,' said she, with tears in her eyes, +'Boys, always take care of one another.' So each evening I have tried +to tuck Bertie in his little bed, and Bertie, with equal enthusiasm, +has attempted to tuck _me_ in. It has been hard on pyjamas, bed +springs, and the temper of the Lady with the Piano who resides in the +apartments immediately beneath; so, at the wise suggestion of our +friends in the windows"--he waved a graceful hand toward them, and they +gravely bowed acknowledgment--"we are now engaged in deciding the +matter Græco-Roman. The winner 'tucks.' Come on, Bertie." + +The two again took position side by side, on their hands and knees, +while Mr. Hench explained to de Laney that this method of beginning the +bout was necessary, because the limited area of the mat precluded +flying falls. At a signal from Mr. Beck, they turned and grappled, +Jeems, by the grace of Providence, on top. In the course of the combat +it often happened that the two mattresses would slide apart. The +contestants, suspending their struggles, would then try to kick them +together again without releasing the advantage of their holds. The +noise was beautiful. To de Laney, strong in maternal admonitions as to +proper deportment, it was all new and stirring, and quite without +precedent. He applauded excitedly, and made as much racket as the +rest. + +A sudden and vigorous knock for the second time put an end to +hostilities. The wrestlers again sat bolt upright on the mattresses, +and listened. + +"Gentlemen," cried an irritated German voice, "there is a lady +schleeping on the next floor!" + +"Karl, Karl!" called one of the irrepressibles, "can I never teach you +to be accurate! No lady could possibly be sleeping anywhere in the +building." + +He arose from the mattress and shook himself. + +"Jeems," he continued sadly, "the world is against true virtue. Our +dear mother's wishes can not be respected." + +De Laney came out of his corner. + +"Fellows," he cried with enthusiasm, "I want you to come up and stay +all night with me some time, so mother can see that gentlemen can make +a noise!" + +Bertie sat down suddenly and shrieked. Jeems rolled over and over, +clutching small feathers from the mattress in the agony of his delight, +while the clothed youths contented themselves with amused but gurgling +chuckles. + +"Bennie, my boy," gasped Jeems, at last, "you'll be the death of me! O +Lord! O Lord! You unfortunate infant! You shall come here and have a +drum to pound; yes, you shall." He tottered weakly to his feet. "Come, +Bertie, let us go get dressed." + +The two disappeared into the bedroom, leaving de Laney uncomfortably +alone with the occupants of the window ledge. + +The young fellow walked awkwardly across the room and sat down on a +partly empty chair, not because he preferred sitting to standing, but +in order to give himself time to recover from his embarrassment. + +The sort of chaffing to which he had just been subjected was direct and +brutal; it touched all his tender spots--the very spots wherein he +realized the intensest soreness of his deficiencies, and about which, +therefore, he was the most sensitive--yet, somehow, he liked it. This +was because the Leslie boys meant to him everything free and young that +he had missed in the precise atmosphere of his own home, and so he +admired them and stood in delightful inferiority to them in spite of +his wealth and position. He would have given anything he owned to have +felt himself one of their sort; but, failing that, the next best thing +was to possess their intimacy. Of this intimacy chaffing was a gauge. +Bennington Clarence de Laney always glowed at heart when they rubbed +his fur the wrong way, for it showed that they felt they knew him well +enough to do so. And in this there was something just a little +pathetic. + +Bennington held to the society standpoint with men, so he thought he +must keep up a conversation. He did so. It was laboured. Bennington +thought of things to say about Art, the Theatre, and Books. Hench and +Beck looked at each other from time to time. + +Finally the door opened, and, to the relief of all, two sweatered and +white-ducked individuals appeared. + +"And now, Jeems, we'll smoke the pipe of peace," suggested Bert, diving +for the mantel and the pipe rack. + +"Correct, my boy," responded Jeems, doing likewise. They lit up, and +turned with simultaneous interest to their latest caller. + +"And how is the proud plutocrat?" inquired Bert; "and how did he +contrive to get leave to visit us rude and vulgar persons?" + +The Leslies had called at the de Laneys', and, as Bert said, had dined +there once. They recognised their status, and rejoiced therein. + +"He is calling on the minister," explained Jeems for him. "Bennington, +my son, you'll get caught at that some day, as sure as shooting. If +your mamma ever found out that, instead of talking society-religion to +old Garnett, you were revelling in this awful dissipation, you'd have +to go abroad again." + +"What did you call him?" inquired Bert. + +"Call who?" + +"Him--Bennie--what was that full name?" + +"Bennington." + +"Great Scott! and here I've been thinking all the time he was plain +Benjamin! Tell us about it, my boy. What is it? It sounds like a battle +of the Revolution. _Is_ it a battle of the Revolution? Just to think +that all this time we have been entertaining unawares a real live +battle!" + +De Laney grinned, half-embarrassed as usual. + +"It's a family name," said he. "It's the name of an ancestor." + +He never knew whether or not these vivacious youths really desired the +varied information they demanded. + +The Leslies looked upon him with awe. + +"You don't mean to tell me," said Bertie, "that you are a Bennington! +Well, well! This is a small world! We will celebrate the discovery." He +walked to the door and touched a bell five times. "Beautiful system," +he explained. "In a moment Karl will appear with five beers. This +arrangement is possible because never, in any circumstances, do we ring +for anything but beer." + +The beer came. Two steins, two glasses, and a carefully scrubbed +shaving mug were pressed into service. After the excitement of finding +all these things had died, and the five men were grouped about the +place in ungraceful but comfortable attitudes, Bennington bid for the +sympathy he had sought in this visit. + +"Fellows," said he, "I've something to tell you." + +"Let her flicker," said Jim. + +"I'm going away next week. It's all settled." + +"Bar Harbour, Trouville, Paris, or Berlin?" + +"None of them. I'm going West." + +"Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, San Diego, or Monterey?" + +"None of them. I'm going to the real West. I'm going to a mining camp." + +The Leslies straightened their backbones. + +"Don't spring things on us that way," reproved Bertie severely; "you'll +give us heart disease. Now repeat softly." + +"I am going to a mining camp," obeyed Bennington, a little +shamefacedly. + +"With whom?" + +"Alone." + +This time the Leslies sprang quite to their feet. + +"By the Great Horn Spoon, man!" cried Jim. "Alone! No chaperon! Good +Lord!" + +"Yes," said Bennington, "I've always wanted to go West. I want to +write, and I'm sure, in that great, free country, I'll get a chance for +development. I had to work hard to induce father and mother to consent, +but it's done now, and I leave next week. Father procured me a position +out there in one of the camps. I'm to be local treasurer, or something +like that; I'm not quite sure, you see, for I haven't talked with +Bishop yet. I go to his office for directions to-morrow." + +At the mention of Bishop the Leslies glanced at each other behind the +young man's back. + +"Bishop?" repeated Jim. "Where's your job located?" + +"In the Black Hills of South Dakota, somewhere near a little place +called Spanish Gulch." + +This time the Leslies winked at each other. + +"It's a nice country," commented Bert vaguely; "I've been there." + +"Oh, have you?" cried the young man. "What's it like?" + +"Hills, pines, log houses, good hunting--oh, it's Western enough." + +A clock struck in a church tower outside. In spite of himself, +Bennington started. + +"Better run along home," laughed Jim; "your mamma will be angry." + +To prove that this consideration carried no weight, Bennington stayed +ten minutes longer. Then he descended the five flights of stairs +deliberately enough, but once out of earshot of his friends, he ran +several blocks. Before going into the house he took off his shoes. In +spite of the precaution, his mother called to him as he passed her +room. It was half past ten. + +Beck and Hench kicked de Laney's chair aside, and drew up more +comfortably before the fire; but James would have none of it. He seemed +to be excited. + +"No," he vetoed decidedly. "You fellows have got to get out! I've got +something to do, and I can't be bothered." + +The visitors grumbled. "There's true hospitality for you," objected +they; "turn your best friends out into the cold world! I like that!" + +"Sorry, boys," insisted James, unmoved. "Got an inspiration. Get out! +Vamoose!" + +They went, grumbling loudly down the length of the stairs, to the +disgust of the Lady with the Piano on the floor below. + +"What're you up to, anyway, Jimmie?" inquired the brother with some +curiosity. + +James had swept a space clear on the table, and was arranging some +stationery. + +"Don't you care," he replied; "you just sit down and read your little +Omar for a while." + +He plunged into the labours of composition, and Bert sat smoking +meditatively. After some moments the writer passed a letter over to the +smoker. + +"Think it'll do?" he inquired. + +Bert read the letter through carefully. + +"Jeems," said he, after due deliberation, "Jeems, you're a blooming +genius." + +James stamped the envelope. + +"I'll mail it for you when I go out in the morning," Bert suggested. + +"Not on your daily bread, sonny. It is posted now by my own hand. We +won't take any chances on _this_ layout, and that I can tell you." + +He tramped down four flights and to the corner, although it was +midnight and bitter cold. Then, with a seraphic grin on his +countenance, he went to bed and slept the sleep of the just. + +The envelope was addressed to a Mr. James Fay, Spanish Gulch, South +Dakota. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE STORY-BOOK WEST + + +When a man is twenty-one, and has had no experience, and graduates from +a small college where he roomed alone in splendour, and possesses a +gift of words and a certain delight in reading, and is thrown into new +and, to him, romantic surroundings--when all these stars of chance +cross their orbits, he begins to write a novel. The novel never has +anything to do with the aforesaid new and romantic surroundings; +neither has it the faintest connection with anything the author has +ever seen. That would limit his imagination. + +Once he was well settled in his new home, and the first excitement of +novel impressions had worn off, Bennington de Laney began to write +regularly three hours a day. He did his scribbling with a fountain pen, +on typewriter paper, and left a broad right-hand margin, just as he had +seen Brooks do. In it he experienced, above all, a delightful feeling +of power. He enjoyed to the full his ability to swing gorgeous involved +sentences, phrase after phrase, down the long arc of rhetoric, without +a pause, without a quiver, until they rushed unhasting up the other +slope to end in beautiful words, polysyllabic, but with just the right +number of syllables. Interspersed were short sentences. He counted the +words in one or the other of these two sorts, carefully noting the +relations they bore to each other. On occasions he despaired because +they did not bear the right relations. And he also dragged out, +squirming, the Anglo-Saxon and Latin derivations, and set them up in a +row that he might observe their respective numbers. He was uneasily +conscious that he ought, in the dread of college anathema, to use the +former, but he loved the many-syllabled crash or modulated music of the +latter. Also, there was the question of getting variety into his +paragraph lengths. It was all excellent practice. + +And yet this technique, absorbing as it was, counted as nothing in +comparison with the subject-matter. + +The method was talent; the subject-matter was Genius; and Genius had +evolved an Idea which no one had ever thought of before--something +brand new under the sun. It goes without saying that the Idea +symbolized a great Truth. One department, the more impersonal, of +Bennington's critical faculty, assured him that the Idea would take +rank with the Ideas of Plato and Emerson. Emerson, Bennington +worshipped. Plato he also worshipped--because Emerson told him to. He +had never read Plato himself. The other, the more personal and modest, +however, had perforce to doubt this, not because it doubted the Idea, +but because Bennington was not naturally conceited. + +To settle the discrepancy he began to write. He laid the scene in +Arabia and decided to call it _Aliris: A Romance of all Time_, because +he liked the smooth, easy flow of the syllables. + +The consciousness that he could do all this sugar-coated his Wild +Western experiences, which otherwise might have been a little +disagreeable. He could comfort himself with the reflection that he was +superior, if ridiculous. + +In spots, he was certainly the latter. The locality into which his +destinies had led him lay in the tumultuous centre of the Hills, about +thirty miles from Custer and ten from Hill City. Spanish Gulch was +three miles down the draw. The Holy Smoke mine, to which Bennington was +accredited, he found to consist of a hole in the ground, of unsounded +depth, two log structures, and a chicken coop. The log structures +resembled those he had read about. In one of them lived Arthur and his +wife. The wife did the cooking. Arthur did nothing at all but sit in +the shade and smoke a pipe, and this in spite of the fact that he did +not look like a loafer. He had no official connection with the place, +except that of husband to Mrs. Arthur. The other member of the +community was Davidson, alias Old Mizzou. + +The latter was cordial and voluble. As he was blessed with a long white +beard of the patriarchal type, he inspired confidence. He used +exclusively the present tense and chewed tobacco. He also played +interminable cribbage. Likewise he talked. The latter was his strong +point. Bennington found that within two days of his arrival he knew all +about the company's business without having proved the necessity of +stirring foot on his own behalf. The claims were not worth much, +according to Old Mizzou. The company had been cheated. They would find +it out some day. None of the ore assayed very high. For his part he did +not see why they even did assessment work. Bennington was to look after +the latter? All in good time. You know you had until the end of the +year to do it. What else was there to do? Nothing much; The present +holders had come into the property on a foreclosed mortgage, and +weren't doing anything to develop it yet. Did Bennington know of their +plans? No? Well, it looked as though the two of them were to have a +pretty easy time of it, didn't it? + +Old Mizzou tried, by adroit questioning, to find out just why de Laney +had been sent West. There was, in reality, not enough to keep one man +busy, and surely Old Mizzou considered himself quite competent to +attend to that. Finally, he concluded that it must be to watch +him--Old Mizzou. Acting on that supposition, he tried a new tack. + +For two delicious hours he showed up, to his own satisfaction, +Bennington's ignorance of mining. That was an easy enough task. +Bennington did not even know what country-rock was. All he succeeded in +eliciting confirmed him in the impression that de Laney was sent to spy +on him. But why de Laney? Old Mizzou wagged his gray beard. And why spy +on him? What could the company want to know? He gave it up. One thing +alone was clear: this young man's understanding of his duties was very +simple. Bennington imagined he was expected to see certain assessment +work done (whatever that was), and was to find out what he could about +the value of the property. + +As a matter of sedulously concealed truth, he was really expected to do +nothing at all. The place had been made for him through Mr. de Laney's +influence, because he wanted to go West. + +"Now, my boy," Bishop, the mining capitalist, had said, when +Bennington had visited him in his New York office, "do you know +anything about mining?" + +"No, sir," Bennington replied. + +"Well, that doesn't matter much. We don't expect to do anything in the +way of development. The case, briefly, is this: We've bought this +busted proposition of the people who were handling it, and have assumed +their debt. They didn't run it right. They had a sort of a wildcat +individual in charge of the thing, and he got contracts for sinking +shafts with all the turtlebacks out there, and then didn't pay for +them. Now, what we want you to do is this: First of all, you're to take +charge financially at that end of the line. That means paying the local +debts as we send you the money, and looking after whatever expenditures +may become necessary. Then you'll have to attend to the assessment +work. Do you know what assessment work is?" + +"No, sir." + +"Well, in order to hold the various claims legally, the owners have to +do one hundred dollars' worth of work a year on each claim. If the +work isn't done, the claims can be 'jumped.' You'll have to hire the +men, buy the supplies, and see that the full amount is done. We have a +man out there named Davidson. You can rely on him, and he'll help you +out in all practical matters. He's a good enough practical miner, but +he's useless in bossing a job or handling money. Between you, you ought +to get along." + +"I'll try, anyway." + +"That's right. Then, another thing. You can put in your spare time +investigating what the thing is worth. I don't expect much from you in +that respect, for you haven't had enough experience; but do the best +you can. It'll be good practice, anyway. Hunt up Davidson; go over all +the claims; find out how the lead runs, and how it holds out; get +samples and ship them to me; investigate everything you can, and don't +be afraid to write when you're stuck." + +In other words, Bennington was to hold the ends of the reins while some +one else drove. But he did not know that. He felt his responsibility. + +As to the assessment work, Old Mizzou had already assured him there was +no immediate hurry; men were cheaper in the fall. As to investigating, +he started in on that at once. He and Davidson climbed down shafts, and +broke off ore, and worked the gold pan. It was fun. + +In the morning Bennington decided to work from seven until ten on +_Aliris_. Then for three hours he and Old Mizzou prospected. In the +afternoon the young man took a vacation and hunted Wild Western +adventures. + +It may as well be remarked here that Bennington knew all about the West +before he left home. Until this excursion he had never even crossed the +Alleghanies, but he thought he appreciated the conditions thoroughly. +This was because he was young. He could close his eyes and see the +cowboys scouring the plain. As a parenthesis it should be noted that +cowboys always scour the plain, just as sailors always scan the +horizon. He knew how the cowboys looked, because he had seen Buffalo +Bill's show; and he knew how they talked, because he had read accurate +authors of the school of Bret Harte. He could even imagine the +romantic mountain maidens. + +With his preconceived notions the country, in most particulars, tallied +interestingly. At first Bennington frequented the little town down the +draw. It answered fairly well to the story-book descriptions, but +proved a bit lively for him. The first day they lent him a horse. The +horse looked sleepy. It took him twenty minutes to get on the animal +and twenty seconds to fall off. There was an audience. They made him +purchase strange drinks at outlandish prices. After that they shot +holes all around his feet to induce him to dance. He had inherited an +obstinate streak from some of his forebears, and declined when it went +that far. They then did other things to him which were not pleasant. +Most of these pranks seemed to have been instigated by a laughing, +curly-haired young man named Fay. Fay had clear blue eyes, which seemed +always to mock you. He could think up more diabolical schemes in ten +minutes than the rest of the men in as many hours. Bennington came +shortly to hate this man Fay. His attentions had so much of the +gratuitous! For a number of days, even after the enjoyment of novelty +had worn off, the Easterner returned bravely to Spanish Gulch every +afternoon for the mail. It was a matter of pride with him. He did not +like to be bluffed out. But Fay was always there. + +"Tender _foot!_" the latter would shriek joyously, and bear down on the +shrinking de Laney. + +That would bring out the loafers. It all had to happen over again. + +Bennington hoped that this performance would cease in time. It never +did. + +By a mental process, unnecessary to trace here, he modified his first +views, and permitted Old Mizzou to get the mail. Spanish Gulch saw him +no more. + +After all, it was quite as good Western experience to wander in the +hills. He did not regret the other. In fact, as he cast in review his +research in Wild West literature, he perceived that the incidents of +his town visits were the proper thing. He would not have had them +different--to look back on. They were inspiring--to write home about. +He recognised all the types--the miner, the gambler, the +saloon-keeper, the bad man, the cowboy, the prospector--just as though +they had stepped living from the pages of his classics. They had the +true slouch; they used the picturesque language. The log cabins squared +with his ideas. The broncos even exceeded them. + +But now he had seen it all. There is no sense in draining an agreeable +cup to satiety. He was quite content to enjoy his rambles in the hills, +like the healthy youngster he was. But had he seen it all? On +reflection, he acknowledged he could not make this statement to himself +with a full consciousness of sincerity. One thing was lacking from the +preconceived picture his imagination had drawn. There had been no +Mountain Flowers. By that he meant girls. + +Every one knows what a Western girl is. She is a beautiful creature, +always, with clear, tanned skin, bright eyes, and curly hair. She wears +a Tam o' Shanter. She rides a horse. Also, she talks deliciously, in a +silver voice, about "old pards." Altogether a charming vision--in +books. + +This vision Bennington had not yet realized. The rest of the West came +up to specifications, but this one essential failed. In Spanish Gulch +he had, to be sure, encountered a number of girls. But they were +red-handed, big-boned, freckled-faced, rough-skinned, and there wasn't +a Tam o' Shanter in the lot. Plainly servants, Bennington thought. The +Mountain Flower must have gone on a visit. Come to think of it, there +never was more than one Mountain Flower to a town. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +BENNINGTON HUNTS FOR GOLD AND FINDS A KISS + + +One day Old Mizzou brought him a blue-print map. + +"This y'ar map," said he, spreading it out under his stubby fingers, +"shows the deestrict. I gets it of Fay, so you gains an idee of th' lay +of the land a whole lot. Them claims marked with a crost belongs to th' +Company. You kin take her and explore." + +This struck Bennington as an excellent idea. He sat down at the table +and counted the crosses. There were fourteen of them. The different +lodes were laid off in mathematically exact rectangles, running in many +directions. A few joined one another, but most lay isolated. Their +relative positions were a trifle confusing at first, but, after a +little earnest study, Bennington thought he understood them. He could +start with the Holy Smoke, just outside the door. The John Logan lay +beyond, at an obtuse angle. Then a jump of a hundred yards or so to the +southwest would bring him to the Crazy Horse. This he resolved to +locate, for it was said to be on the same "lode" as a big strike some +one had recently made. He picked up his rifle and set out. + +Now, a blue-print map maker has undoubtedly accurate ideas as to points +of the compass, and faultless proficiency in depicting bird's-eye +views, but he neglects entirely the putting in of various ups and down, +slants and windings of the country, which apparently twist the north +pole around to the east-south-east. You start due west on a bee line, +according to directions; after about ten feet you scramble over a +fallen tree, skirt a boulder, dip into a ravine, and climb a ledge. +Your starting point is out of sight behind you; your destination is, +Heaven knows where, in front. By the time you have walked six thousand +actual feet, which is as near as you can guess to fifteen hundred +theoretical level ones, your little blazed stake in a pile of stones is +likely to be almost anywhere within a liberal quarter of a mile. Then +it is guess-work. If the hill is pretty thickly staked out, the chase +becomes exciting. In the middle distance you see a post. You clamber +eagerly to it, only to find that it marks your neighbour's claim. You +have lost your standpoint of a moment ago, and must start afresh. In an +hour's time you have discovered every stake on the hill but the one you +want. In two hours' time you are staggering homeward a gibbering idiot. +Then you are brought back to profane sanity by falling at full length +over the very object of your search. + +Bennington was treated to full measure of this experience. He found the +John Logan lode without much difficulty, and followed its length with +less, for the simple reason that its course lay over the round brow of +a hill bare of trees. He also discovered the "Northeast Corner of the +Crazy Horse Lode" plainly marked on the white surface of a pine stake +braced upright in a pile of rocks. Thence he confidently paced south, +and found nothing. Next trip he came across pencilled directions +concerning the "Miner's Dream Lode." The time after he ran against the +"Golden Ball" and the "Golden Chain Lodes." Bennington reflected; his +mind was becoming a little heated. + +"It's because I went around those ledges and boulders," he said to +himself; "I got off the straight line. This time I'll take the straight +line and keep it." + +So he addressed himself to the surmounting of obstructions. Work of +that sort is not easy. At one point he lost his hold on a broad, steep +rock, and slid ungracefully to the foot of it, his elbows digging +frantically into the moss, and his legs straddled apart. As he struck +bottom, he imagined he heard a most delicious little laugh. So real was +the illusion that he gripped two handfuls of moss and looked about +sharply, but of course saw nothing. The laugh was repeated. + +He looked again, and so became aware of a Vision in pink, standing just +in front of a big pine above him on the hill and surveying him with +mischievous eyes. + +Surprise froze him, his legs straddled, his hat on one side, his mouth +open. The Vision began to pick its way down the hill, eyeing him the +while. + +That dancing scrutiny seemed to mesmerize him. He was enchanted to +perfect stillness, but he was graciously permitted to take in the +particulars of the girl's appearance. She was dainty. Every posture of +her slight figure was of an airy grace, as light and delicate as that +of a rose tendril swaying in the wind. Even when she tripped over a +loose rock, she caught her balance again with a pretty little uplift of +the hand. As she approached, slowly, and evidently not unwilling to +allow her charms full time in which to work, Bennington could see that +her face was delicately made; but as to the details he could not judge +clearly because of her mischievous eyes. They were large and wide and +clear, and of a most peculiar colour--a purple-violet, of the shade one +sometimes finds in flowers, but only in the flowers of a deep and shady +wood. In this wonderful colour--which seemed to borrow the richness of +its hue rather from its depth than from any pigment of its own, just as +beyond soundings the ocean changes from green to blue--an hundred moods +seem to rise slowly from within, to swim visible, even though the mere +expression of her face gave no sign of them. For instance, at the +present moment her features were composed to the utmost gravity. Yet in +her eyes bubbled gaiety and fun, as successive up-swellings of a +spring; or, rather, as the riffles of sunlight and wind, or the +pictured flight of birds across a pool whose surface alone is stirred. + +Bennington realized suddenly, with overwhelming fervency, that he +preferred to slide in solitude. + +The Vision in the starched pink gingham now poised above him like a +humming-bird over a flower. From behind her back she withdrew one hand. +In the hand was the missing claim stake. + +"Is this what you are looking for?" she inquired demurely. + +The mesmeric spell broke, and Bennington was permitted to babble +incoherencies. + +She stamped her foot. + +"Is this what you're looking for?" she persisted. + +Bennington's chaos had not yet crystallized to relevancy. + +"Wh-where did you get it?" he stammered again. + +"IS THIS WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR?" she demanded in very large capitals. + +The young man regained control of his faculties with an effort. + +"Yes, it is!" he rejoined sharply; and then, with the instinct that +bids us appreciate the extent of our relief by passing an annoyance +along, "Don't you know it's a penal offence to disturb claim stakes?" + +He had suddenly discovered that he preferred to find claim stakes on +claims. + +The Vision's eyes opened wider. + +"It must be nice to know so much!" said she, in reverent admiration. + +Bennington flushed. As a de Laney, the girls he had known had always +taken him seriously. He disliked being made fun of. + +"This is nonsense," he objected, with some impatience. "I must know +where it came from." + +In the background of his consciousness still whirled the moil of his +wonder and bewilderment. He clung to the claim stake as a stable +object. + +The Vision looked straight at him without winking, and those wonderful +eyes filled with tears. Yet underneath their mist seemed to sparkle +little points of light, as wavelets through a vapour which veils the +surface of the sea. Bennington became conscious-stricken because of the +tears, and still he owned an uneasy suspicion that they were not real. + +"I'm so sorry!" she said contritely, after a moment; "I thought I was +helping you so much! I found that stake just streaking it over the top +of the hill. It had got loose and was running away." The mist had +cleared up very suddenly, and the light-tipped sparkles of fun were +chasing each other rapidly, as though impelled by a lively breeze. "I +thought you'd be ever so grateful, and, instead of that, you scold me! +I don't believe I like you a bit!" + +She looked him over reflectively, as though making up her mind. + +Bennington laughed outright, and scrambled to his feet. "You are +absolutely incorrigible!" he exclaimed, to cover his confusion at his +change of face. + +Her eyes fairly danced. + +"Oh, what a _lovely_ word!" she cried rapturously. "What _does_ it +mean? Something nice, or I'm sure you wouldn't have said it about me. +_Would_ you?" The eyes suddenly became grave. "Oh, please tell me!" she +begged appealingly. + +Bennington was thrown into confusion at this, for he did not know +whether she was serious or not. He could do nothing but stammer and get +red, and think what a ridiculous ass he was making of himself. He might +have considered the help he was getting in that. + +"Well, then, you needn't," she conceded, magnanimously, after a moment. +"Only, you ought not to say things about girls that you don't dare tell +them in plain language. If you will say nice things about me, you might +as well say them so I can understand them; only, I do think it's a +little early in our acquaintance." + +This cast Bennington still more in perplexity. He had a +pretty-well-defined notion that he was being ridiculed, but concerning +this, just a last grain of doubt remained. She rattled on. + +"Well!" said she impatiently, "why don't you say something? Why don't +you take this stick? I don't want it. Men are so stupid!" + +That last remark has been made many, many times, and yet it never fails +of its effect, which is at once to invest the speaker with daintiness +indescribable, and to thrust the man addressed into nether inferiority. +Bennington fell to its charm. He took the stake. + +"Where does it belong?" he asked. + +She pointed silently to a pile of stones. He deposited the stake in its +proper place, and returned to find her seated on the ground, plucking a +handful of the leaves of a little erect herb that grew abundantly in +the hollow. These she rubbed together and held to her face inside the +sunbonnet. + +"Who are you, anyway?" asked Bennington abruptly, as he returned. + +"D' you ever see this before?" she inquired irrelevantly, looking up +with her eyes as she leaned over the handful. "Good for colds. Makes +your nose feel all funny and prickly." + +She turned her hands over and began to drop the leaves one by one. +Bennington caught himself watching her with fascinated interest in +silence. He began to find this one of her most potent charms--the +faculty of translating into a grace so exquisite as almost to realize +the fabled poetry of motion, the least shrug of her shoulders, the +smallest crook of her finger, the slightest toss of her small, +well-balanced head. She looked up. + +"Want to smell?" she inquired, and held out her hands with a pretty +gesture. + +Not knowing what else to do, Bennington stepped forward obediently and +stooped over. The two little palms held a single crushed bit of the +herb in their cup. They were soft, pink little palms, all wrinkled, +like crumpled rose leaves. Bennington stooped to smell the herb; +instead, he kissed the palms. + +The girl sprang to her feet with one indignant motion and faced him. +The eyes now flashed blue flame, and Bennington for the first time +noticed what had escaped him before--that the forehead was broad and +thoughtful, and that above it the hair, instead of being blonde and +curly and sparkling with golden radiance, was of a peculiar wavy brown +that seemed sometimes full of light and sometimes lustreless and black, +according as it caught the direct rays of the sun or not. Then he +appreciated his offence. + +"Sir!" she exclaimed, and turned away with a haughty shoulder. + +"And we've never been introduced!" she said, half to herself, but her +face was now concealed, so that Bennington could not see she laughed. +She marched stiffly down the hill. Bennington turned to follow her, +although the action was entirely mechanical, and he had no definite +idea in doing so. + +"Don't you dare, sir!" she cried. + +So he did not dare. + +This vexed her for a moment. Then, having gone quite out of sight, she +sank down and laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks. + +"I didn't think he knew enough!" she said, with a final hysterical +chuckle. + +This first impression of the Mountain Flower, Bennington would have +been willing to acknowledge, was quite complicated enough, but he was +destined to further surprises. + +When he returned to the Holy Smoke camp he found Old Mizzou in earnest +conversation with a peculiar-looking stranger, whose hand he was +promptly requested to shake. + +The stranger was a tall, scraggly individual, dressed in the usual +flannel shirt and blue jeans, the latter tucked into rusty cowhide +boots. Bennington was interested in him because he was so phenomenally +ugly. From the collar of his shirt projected a lean, sinewy neck, on +which the too-abundant skin rolled and wrinkled in a dark red, +wind-roughened manner particularly disagreeable to behold. The neck +supported a small head. The face was wizened and tanned to a dark +mahogany colour. It was ornamented with a grizzled goatee. + +The man smoked a stub pipe. His remarks were emphasized by the gestures +of a huge and gnarled pair of hands. + +"Mr. Lawton is from Old Mizzou, too, afore he moved to Illinoy," +commented Davidson. One became aware, from the loving tones in which +he pronounced the two words, whence he derived his sobriquet. + +Lawton expressed the opinion that Chillicothe, of that State, was the +finest town on top of earth. + +Bennington presumed it might be, and then opportunely bethought him of +a bottle of Canadian Club, which, among other necessary articles, he +had brought with him from New York. This he produced. The old +Missourians brightened; Davidson went into the cabin after glasses and +a corkscrew. He found the corkscrew all right, but apparently had some +difficulty in regard to the glasses. They could hear him calling +vociferously for Mrs. Arthur. Mrs. Arthur had gone to the spring for +water. In a few moments Old Mizzou appeared in the doorway exceedingly +red of face. + +"Consarn them women folks!" he grumbled, depositing the tin cups on the +porch. "They locks up an' conceals things most damnable. Ain't a +tumbler in th' place." + +"These yar is all right," assured Lawton consolingly, picking up one of +the cups and examining the bottom of it with great care. + +"I reckon they'll hold the likker, anyhow," agreed Davidson. + +They passed the bottle politely to de Laney, and the latter helped +himself. For his part, he was glad the tin cups had been necessary, for +it enabled him to conceal the smallness of his dose. Lawton filled his +own up to the brim; Davidson followed suit. + +"Here's how!" observed the latter, and the two old turtlebacks drank +the raw whisky down, near a half pint of it, as though it had been so +much milk. + +Bennington fairly gasped with astonishment. "Don't you ever take any +water?" he asked. + +They turned slowly. Old Mizzou looked him in the eye with glimmering +reproach. + +"Not, if th' whisky's good, sonny," said he impressively. + +"Wall," commented Lawton, after a pause, "that is a good drink. Reckon +I must be goin'." + +"Stay t' grub!" urged Old Mizzou heartily. + +"Folks waitin'. Remember!" + +They looked at Bennington and chuckled a little, to that young man's +discomfort. + +"Lawton's a damn fine fella'," said Old Mizzou with emphasis. +Bennington thought, with a shudder, of the loose-skinned, turkey-red +neck, and was silent. + +After supper Bennington and Old Mizzou played cribbage by the light of +a kerosene lamp. + +"While I was hunting claims this afternoon," said the Easterner +suddenly, "I ran across a mighty pretty girl." + +"Yas?" observed Old Mizzou with indifference. "What fer a gal was it?" + +"She didn't look as if she belonged around here. She was a slender +girl, very pretty, with a pink dress on." + +"Ain't no female strangers yar-abouts. Blue eyes?" + +"Yes." + +"An' ha'r that sometimes looks black an' sometimes yaller-brown?" + +"Yes, that's the one all right. Who is she?" + +"Oh, that!" said Old Mizzou with slight interest, "that's Bill +Lawton's girl. Live's down th' gulch. He's th' fella' that was yar +afore grub," he explained. + +For a full minute Bennington stared at the cards in his hand. The +patriarch became impatient. + +"Yore play, sonny," he suggested. + +"I don't believe you know the one I mean," returned Bennington slowly. +"She's a girl with a little mouth and a nose that is tipped up just a +trifle----" + +"Snub!" interrupted Old Mizzou, with some impatience. "Yas, I knows. +Same critter. Only one like her in th' Hills. Sasshays all over th' +scenery, an' don't do nothin' but sit on rocks." + +"So she's the daughter of that man!" said Bennington, still more +slowly. + +"Wall, so Mis' Lawton sez," chuckled Mizzou. + +That night Bennington lay awake for some time. He had discovered the +Mountain Flower; the story-book West was complete at last. But he had +offended his discovery. What was the etiquette in such a case? Back +East he would have felt called upon to apologize for being rude. Then, +at the thought of apologizing to a daughter of that turkey-necked old +whisky-guzzler he had to laugh. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE SUN FAIRY + + +The next afternoon, after the day's writing and prospecting were +finished, Bennington resolved to go deer hunting. He had skipped +thirteen chapters of his work to describe the heroine, Rhoda. She had +wonderful eyes, and was, I believe, dressed in a garment whose colour +was pink. + +"Keep yore moccasins greased," Old Mizzou advised at parting; by which +he meant that the young man was to step softly. + +This he found to be difficult. His course lay along the top of the +ridge where the obstructions were many. There were outcrops, boulders, +ravines, broken twigs, old leaves, and dikes, all of which had to be +surmounted or avoided. They were all aggravating, but the dikes +possessed some intellectual interest which the others lacked. + +A dike, be it understood, is a hole in the earth made visible. That is +to say, in old days, when mountains were much loftier than they are +now, various agencies brought it to pass that they split and cracked +and yawned down to the innermost cores of their being in such hideous +fashion that chasms and holes of great depth and perpendicularity were +opened in them. Thereupon the interior fires were released, and these, +vomiting up a vast supply of molten material, filled said chasms and +holes to the very brim. The molten material cooled into fire-hardened +rock. The rains descended and the snows melted. Under their erosive +influence the original mountains were cut down somewhat, but the +erstwhile molten material, being, as we have said, fire-hardened, +wasted very little, or not at all, and, as a consequence, stands forth +above its present surroundings in exact mould of the ancient cracks or +holes. + +Now, some dikes are long and narrow, others are short and wide, and +still others are nearly round. All, however, are highest points, and, +head and shoulders above the trees, look abroad over the land. + +When Bennington came to one of these dikes he was forced to pick his +way carefully in a detour around its base. Between times he found +hobnails much inclined to click against unforeseen stones. The broken +twig came to possess other than literary importance. After a little his +nerves asserted themselves. Unconsciously he relaxed his attention and +began to think. + +The subject of his thoughts was the girl he had seen just twenty-four +hours before. He caught himself remembering little things he had not +consciously noticed at the time, as, for instance, the strange contrast +between the mischief in her eyes and the austerity of her brow, or the +queer little fashion she had of winking rapidly four or five times, and +then opening her eyes wide and looking straight into the depths of his +own. He considered it quite a coincidence that he had unconsciously +returned to the spot on which they had met the day before--the rich +Crazy Horse lode. + +As though in answer to his recognition of this fact, her voice suddenly +called to him from above. + +"Hullo, little boy!" it cried. + +He felt at once that he was pleased at the encounter. + +"Hullo!" he answered; "where are you?" + +"Right here." + +He looked up, and then still up, until, at the flat top of the +castellated dike that stood over him, he caught a gleam of pink. The +contrast between it, the blue of the sky, and the dark green of the +trees, was most beautiful and unusual. Nature rarely uses pink, except +in sunsets and in flowers. Bennington thought pleasedly how every +impression this girl made upon him was one of grace or beauty or bright +colour. The gleam of pink disappeared, and a great pine cone, heavy +with pitch, came buzzing through the air to fall at his feet. + +"That's to show you where I am," came the clear voice. "You ought to +feel honoured. I've only three cones left." + +The dike before which Bennington had paused was one of the round +variety. It rose perhaps twenty feet above the _dĂ©bris_ at its base, +sheer, gray, its surface almost intact except for an insignificant +number of frost fissures. From its base the hill fell rapidly, so that, +even from his own inferior elevation, he was enabled to look over the +tops of trees standing but a few rods away from him. He could see that +the summit of this dike was probably nearly flat, and he surmised that, +once up there, one would become master of a pretty enough little +plateau on which to sit; but his careful circumvallation could discover +no possible method of ascent. The walls afforded no chance for a +squirrel's foothold even. He began to doubt whether he had guessed +aright as to the girl's whereabouts, and began carefully to examine the +tops of the trees. Discovering nothing in them, he cast another puzzled +glance at the top of the dike. A pair of violet eyes was scrutinizing +him gravely over the edge of it. + +"How in the world did you get up there?" he cried. + +"Flew," she explained, with great succinctness. + +"Look out you don't fall," he warned hastily; her attitude was +alarming. + +"I am lying flat," said she, "and I can't fall." + +"You haven't told me how you got up. I want to come up, too." + +"How do you know I want you?" + +"I have such a lot of things to say!" cried Bennington, rather at a +loss for a valid reason, but feeling the necessity keenly. + +"Well, sit down and say them. There's a big flat rock just behind you." + +This did not suit him in the least. "I wish you'd let me up," he begged +petulantly. "I can't say what I want from here." + +"I can hear you quite well. You'll have to talk from there, or else +keep still." + +"That isn't fair!" persisted the young man, adopting a tone of +argument. "You're a girl----" + +"Stop there! You are wrong to start with. Did you think that a creature +who could fly to the tops of the rocks was a mere girl? Not at all." + +"What do you mean?" asked the easily bewildered Bennington. + +"What I say. I'm not a girl." + +"What are you then?" + +"A sun fairy." + +"A sun fairy?" + +"Yes; a real live one. See that cloud over toward the sun? The nice +downy one, I mean. That's my couch. I sleep on it all night. I've got +it near the sun so that it will warm up, you see." + +"I see," cried Bennington. He could recognise foolery--provided it were +ticketed plainly enough. He sat down on the flat rock before indicated, +and clasped his knee with his hands, prepared to enjoy more. "Is that +your throne up there, Sun Fairy?" he asked. She had withdrawn her head +from sight. + +"It is," her voice came down to him in grave tones. + +"It must be a very nice one." + +"The nicest throne you ever saw." + +"I never saw one, but I've often heard that thrones were unpleasant +things." + +"I am sitting, foolish mortal," said she, in tones of deep +commiseration, "on a soft, thick cushion of moss--much more +comfortable, I imagine, than hard, flat rocks. And the nice warm sun +is shining on me--it must be rather chilly in the woods to-day. And +there is a breeze blowing from the Big Horn--old rocks are always damp +and stuffy in the shade. And I am looking away out over the Hills--I +hope some people enjoy the sight of piles of quartzite." + +"Cruel sun fairy!" cried Bennington. "Why do you tantalize me so with +the delights from which you debar me? What have I done?" + +There was a short silence. + +"Can't you think of anything you've done?" asked the voice, +insinuatingly. + +Bennington's conscience-stricken memory stirred. It did not seem so +ridiculous, under the direct charm of the fresh young voice that came +down through the summer air from above, like a dove's note from a +treetop, to apologize to Lawton's girl. The incongruity now was in +forcing into this Arcadian incident anything savouring of +conventionality at all. It had been so idyllic, this talk of the sun +fairy and the cloud; so like a passage from an old book of legends, +this dainty episode in the great, strong, Western breezes, under the +great, strong, Western sky. Everything should be perfect, not to be +blamed. + +"Do sun fairies accept apologies?" he asked presently, in a subdued +voice. + +"They might." + +"This particular sun fairy is offered one by a man who is sorry." + +"Is it a good big one?" + +"Indeed, yes." + +The head appeared over the edge of the rock, inspected him gravely for +a moment, and was withdrawn. + +"Then it is accepted," said the voice. + +"Thank you!" he replied sincerely. "And now are you going to let down +your rope ladder, or whatever it is? I really want to talk to you." + +"You are so persistent!" cried the petulant voice, "and so foolish! It +is like a man to spoil things by questionings!" + +He suddenly felt the truth of this. One can not talk every day to a sun +fairy, and the experience can never be repeated. He settled back on the +rock. + +"Pardon me, Sun Fairy!" he cried again. "Rope ladders, indeed, to one +who has but to close her eyes and she finds herself on a downy cloud +near the sun. My mortality blinded me!" + +"Now you are a nice boy," she approved more contentedly, "and as a +reward you may ask me one question." + +"All right," he agreed; and then, with instinctive tact, "What do you +see up there?" + +He could hear her clap her hands with delight, and he felt glad that he +had followed his impulse to ask just this question instead of one more +personal and more in line with his curiosity. + +"Listen!" she began. "I see pines, many pines, just the tops of them, +and they are all waving in the breeze. Did you ever see trees from on +top? They are quite different. And out from the pines come great round +hills made all of stone. I think they look like skulls. Then there are +breathless descents where the pines fall away. Once in a while a little +white road flashes out." + +"Yes," urged Bennington, as the voice paused. "And what else do you +see?" + +"I see the prairie, too," she went on half dreamily. "It is brown now, +but the green is beginning to shine through it just a very little. And +out beyond there is a sparkle. That is the Cheyenne. And beyond that +there is something white, and that is the Bad Lands." + +The voice broke off with a happy little laugh. + +Bennington saw the scene as though it lay actually spread out before +him. There was something in the choice of the words, clearcut, +decisive, and descriptive; but more in the exquisite modulations of the +voice, adding here a tint, there a shade to the picture, and casting +over the whole that poetic glamour which, rarely, is imitated in +grosser materials by Nature herself, when, just following sunset, she +suffuses the landscape with a mellow afterglow. + +The head, sunbonneted, reappeared perked inquiringly sideways. + +"Hello, stranger!" it called with a nasal inflection, "how air ye? Do +y' think minin' is goin' t' pan out well this yar spring?" Then she +caught sight of his weapon. "What are you going to shoot?" she asked +with sudden interest. + +"I thought I might see a deer." + +"Deer! hoh!" she cried in lofty scorn, reassuming her nasal tone. "You +is shore a tenderfoot! Don' you-all know that blastin' scares all th' +deer away from a minin' camp?" + +Bennington looked confused. "No, I hadn't thought of that," he +confessed stoutly enough. + +"I kind of like to shoot!" said she, a little wistfully. "What sort of +a gun is it?" + +"A Savage smokeless," answered Bennington perfunctorily. + +"One of the thirty-calibres?" inquired the sunbonnet with new interest. + +"Yes," gasped Bennington, astonished at so much feminine knowledge of +firearms. + +"Oh! I'd like to see it. I never saw any of those. May I shoot it, just +once?" + +"Of course you may. More than once. Shall I come up?" + +"No. I'll come down. You sit right still on that rock." + +The sunbonnet disappeared, and there ensued a momentary commotion on +the other side of the dike. In an instant the girl came around the +corner, picking her way over the loose blocks of stone. With the +finger-tips of either hand she held the pink starched skirt up, +displaying a neat little foot in a heavy little shoe. Diagonally across +the skirt ran two irregular brown stains. She caught him looking at +them. + +"Naughty, naughty!" said she, glancing down at them with a grimace. + +She dropped her skirt, and stood up beside him with a pretty shake of +the shoulders. + +"Now let's see it," she begged. + +She examined the weapon with much interest, throwing down and back the +lever in a manner that showed she was accustomed at least to the +old-style arm. + +"How light it is!" she commented, squinting through the sights. +"Doesn't it kick awfully?" + +"Not a bit. Smokeless powder, you know." + +"Of course. What'll we shoot at?" + +Bennington fumbled in his pockets and produced an envelope. + +"How's this?" he asked. + +She seized it and ran like an antelope--with the same _gliding_ +motion--to a tree about thirty paces distant, on which she pinned the +bit of paper. They shot. Bennington hit the paper every time. The girl +missed it once. At this she looked a little vexed. + +"You are either very rude or very sincere," was her comment. + +"You're the best shot I ever saw----" + +"Now don't dare say 'for a girl!'" she interrupted quickly. "What's the +prize?" + +"Was this a match?" + +"Of course it was, and I insist on paying up." + +Bennington considered. + +"I think I would like to go to the top of the rock there, and see the +pines, and the skull-stones, and the prairies." + +She glanced toward him, knitting her brows. "It is my very own," she +said doubtfully. "I've never let anybody go up there before." + +One of the diminutive chipmunks of the hills scampered out from a cleft +in the rocks and perched on a moss-covered log, chattering eagerly and +jerking his tail in the well-known manner of chipmunks. + +"Oh, see! see!" she cried, all excitement in a moment. She seized the +rifle, and taking careful aim, fired. The chattering ceased; the +chipmunk disappeared. + +Bennington ran to the log. Behind it lay the little animal. The long +steel-jacketed bullet had just grazed the base of its brain. He picked +it up gently in the palm of his hand and contemplated it. + +It was such a diminutive beast, not as large as a good-sized rat, quite +smaller than our own fence-corner chipmunks of the East. It's little +sides were daintily striped, its little whiskers were as perfect as +those of the great squirrels in the timber bottom. In its pouches were +the roots of pine cones. Bennington was not a sentimentalist, but the +incident, against the background of the light-hearted day, seemed to +him just a little pathetic. Something of the feeling showed in his +eyes. + +The girl, who had drawn near, looked from him to the dead chipmunk, and +back again. Then she burst suddenly into tears. + +"Oh, cruel, cruel!" she sobbed. "What did I do it for? What did you +_let_ me do it for?" + +Her distress was so keen that the young man hastened to relieve it. + +"There," he reassured her lightly, "don't do that! Why, you are a great +hunter. You got your game. And it was a splendid shot. We'll have him +skinned when we get back home, and we'll cure the skin, and you can +make something out of it--a spectacle case," he suggested at random. "I +know how you feel," he went on, to give her time to recover, "but all +hunters feel that way occasionally. See, I'll put him just here until +we get ready to go home, where nothing can get him." + +He deposited the squirrel in the cleft of a rock, quite out of sight, +and stood back as though pleased. "There, that's fine!" he concluded. + +With one of those instantaneous transitions, which seemed so natural to +her, and yet which appeared to reach not at all to her real nature, she +had changed from an aspect of passionate grief to one of solemn +inquiry. Bennington found her looking at him with the soul brimming to +the very surface of her great eyes. + +"I think you may come up on my rock," she said simply after a moment. + +They skirted the base of the dike together until they had reached the +westernmost side. There Bennington was shown the means of ascent, which +he had overlooked before because of his too close examination of the +cliff itself. At a distance of about twenty feet from the dike grew a +large pine tree, the lowest branch of which extended directly over the +little plateau and about a foot above it. Next to the large pine stood +two smaller saplings side by side and a few inches apart. These had +been converted into a ladder by the nailing across of rustic rounds. + +"That's how I get up," explained the girl. "Now you go back around the +corner again, and when I'm ready I'll call." + +Bennington obeyed. In a few moments he heard again the voice in the air +summoning him to approach and climb. + +He ascended the natural ladder easily, but when within six or eight +feet of the large branch that reached across to the dike, the smaller +of the two saplings ceased, and so, naturally, the ladder terminated. + +"Hi!" he called, "how did you get up this?" + +He looked across the intervening space expectantly, and then, to his +surprise, he observed that the girl was blushing furiously. + +"I--I," stammered a small voice after a moment's hesitation, "I guess +I--_shinned_!" + +A light broke across Bennington's mind as to the origin of the two dark +streaks on the gown, and he laughed. The girl eyed him reproachfully +for a moment or so; then she too began to laugh in an embarrassed +manner. Whereupon Bennington laughed the harder. He shinned up the +tree, to find that an ingenious hand rope had been fitted above the +bridge limb, so that the crossing of the short interval to the rock was +a matter of no great difficulty. In another instant he stood upon the +top of the dike. + +It was, as he had anticipated, nearly flat. Under the pine branch, +which might make a very good chair back, grew a thick cushion of moss. +The one tree broke the freedom of the eye's sweep toward the west, but +in all other directions it was uninterrupted. As the girl had said, the +tops of pines alone met the view, miles on miles of them, undulating, +rising, swelling, breaking against the barrier of a dike, or lapping +the foot of a great round boulder-mountain. Here and there a darker +spot suggested a break for a mountain peak; rarely a fleck of white +marked a mountain road. Back of them all--ridge, mountain, cavernous +valley--towered old Harney, sun-browned, rock-diademed, a few wisps of +cloud streaming down the wind from his brow, locks heavy with the age +of the great Manitou whom he was supposed to represent. Eastward, the +prairie like a peaceful sea. Above, the alert sky of the west. And +through all the air a humming--vast, murmurous, swelling--as the +mountain breeze touched simultaneously with strong hand the chords, not +of one, but a thousand pine harps. + +Bennington drew in a deep breath, and looked about in all directions. +The girl watched him. + +"Ah! it is beautiful!" he murmured at last with a half sigh, and looked +again. + +She seized his hand eagerly. + +"Oh, I'm so glad you said that--and no more than that!" she cried. "I +feel the sun fairy can make you welcome now." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE SPIRIT MOUNTAIN + + +"From now on," said the girl, shaking out her skirts before sitting +down, "I am going to be a mystery." + +"You are already," replied Bennington, for the first time aware that +such was the fact. + +"No fencing. I have a plain business proposition to make. You and I are +going to be great friends. I can see that now." + +"I hope so." + +"And you, being a--well, an open-minded young man" (Now what does she +mean by that? thought Bennington), "will be asking all about myself. I +am going to tell you nothing. I am going to be a mystery." + +"I'm sure----" + +"No, you're not sure of anything, young man. Now I'll tell you this: +that I am living down the gulch with my people." + +"I know--Mr. Lawton's." + +She looked at him a moment. "Exactly. If you were to walk straight +ahead--not out in the air, of course--you could see the roof of the +house. Now, after we know each other better, the natural thing for you +to do will be to come and see me at my house, won't it?" + +Bennington agreed that it would. + +"Well, you mustn't." + +Bennington expressed his astonishment. + +"I will explain a very little. In a month occurs the Pioneer's Picnic +at Rapid. You don't know what the Pioneer's Picnic is? Ignorant boy! +It's our most important event of the year. Well, until that time I am +going to try an experiment. I am going to see if--well, I'll tell you; +I am going to try an experiment on a man, and the man is you, and I'll +explain the whole thing to you after the Pioneer's Picnic, and not a +moment before. Aren't you curious?" + +"I am indeed," Bennington assured her sincerely. + +She took on a small air of tyranny. "Now understand me. I mean what I +say. If you want to see me again, you must do as I tell you. You must +take me as I am, and you must mind me." + +Bennington cast a fleeting wonder over the sublime self-confidence +which made this girl so certain he would care to see her again. Then, +with a grip at the heart, he owned that the self-confidence was well +founded. + +"All right," he assented meekly. + +"Good!" she cried, with a gleam of mischief. "Behold me! Old Bill +Lawton's gal! If you want to be pards, put her thar!" + +"And so you are a girl after all, and no sun fairy," smiled Bennington +as he "put her thar." + +"My cloud has melted," she replied quietly, pointing toward the brow of +Harney. + +They chatted of small things for a time. Bennington felt intuitively +that there was something a little strange about this girl, something a +little out of the ordinary, something he had never been conscious of in +any other girl. Yet he could never seize the impression and examine it. +It was always just escaping; just taking shape to the point of +visibility, and then melting away again; just rising in the +modulations of her voice to a murmur that the ear thought to seize as +a definite chord, and then dying into a hundred other cadences. He +tried to catch it in her eyes, where so much else was to be seen. +Sometimes he perceived its influence, but never itself. It passed as a +shadow in the lower deeps, as though the feather mass of a great sea +growth had lifted slowly on an undercurrent, and then as slowly had +sunk back to its bed, leaving but the haunting impression of something +shapeless that had darkened the hue of the waters. It was most like a +sadness that had passed. Perhaps it was merely an unconscious trick of +thought or manner. + +After a time she asked him his first name, and he told her. + +"I'd like to know your's too, Miss Lawton," he suggested. + +"I wish you wouldn't call me Miss Lawton," she cried with sudden +petulance. + +"Why, certainly not, if you don't want me to, but what am I to call +you?" + +"Do you know," she confided with a pretty little gesture, "I have +always disliked my real name. It's ugly and horrid. I've often wished +I were a heroine in a book, and then I could have a name I really +liked. Now here's a chance. I'm going to let you get up one for me, but +it must be pretty, and we'll have it all for our very own." + +"I don't quite see----" objected the still conventional de Laney. + +"Your wits, your wits, haven't you any wits at _all_?" she cried with +impatience over his unresponsiveness. + +"Well, let me see. It isn't easy to do a thing like that on the spur of +the moment, Sun Fairy. A fairy's a fay, isn't it? I might call you +Fay." + +"Fay," she repeated in a startled tone. + +Bennington remembered that this was the name of the curly-haired young +man who had lent him the bucking horse, and frowned. + +"No, I don't believe I like that," he recanted hastily. + +"Take time and think about it," she suggested. + +"I think of one that would be appropriate," he said after some little +time. "It is suggested by that little bird there. It is Phoebe." + +"Do you think it is appropriate," she objected. "A Phoebe bird or a +Phoebe girl always seemed to me to be demure and quiet and thoughtful +and sweet-voiced and fond of dim forests, while I am a frivolous, +laughing, sunny individual who likes the open air and doesn't care for +shadows at all." + +"Yet I feel it is appropriate," he insisted. He paused and went on a +little timidly in the face of his new experience in giving expression +to the more subtle feelings. "I don't know whether I can express it or +not. You are laughing and sunny, as you say, but there is something in +you like the Phoebe bird just the same. It is like those cloud +shadows." He pointed out over the mountains. Overhead a number of +summer clouds were winging their way from the west, casting on the +earth those huge irregular shadows which sweep across it so swiftly, +yet with such dignity; so rushingly, and yet so harmlessly. "The hills +are sunny and bright enough, and all at once one of the shadows crosses +them, and it is dark. Then in another moment it is bright again." + +"And do you really see that in me?" she asked curiously. "You are a +dear boy," she continued, looking at him for some moments with +reflective eyes. "It won't do though," she said, rising at last. "It's +too 'fancy.'" + +"I don't know then," he confessed with some helplessness. + +"I'll tell you what I've always _wanted_ to be called," said she, "ever +since I was a little girl. It is 'Mary.'" + +"Mary!" he cried, astonished. "Why, it is such a common name." + +"It is a beautiful name," she asserted. "Say it over. Aren't the +syllables soft and musical and caressing? It is a lovely name. Why I +remember," she went on vivaciously, "a girl who was named Mary, and who +didn't like it. When she came to our school she changed it, but she +didn't dare to break it to the family all at once. The first letter +home she signed herself 'Mae.' Her father wrote back, 'My dear +daughter, if the name of the mother of Jesus isn't good enough for you, +come home.'" She laughed at the recollection. + +"Then you have been away to school?" asked the young man. + +"Yes," she replied shortly. + +She adroitly led him to talk of himself. He told her naively of New +York and tennis, of brake parties and clubs, and even afternoon teas +and balls, all of which, of course, interested a Western girl +exceedingly. In this it so happened that his immaturity showed more +plainly than before. He did not boast openly, but he introduced +extraneous details important in themselves. He mentioned knowing +Pennington the painter, and Brookes the writer, merely in a casual +fashion, but with just the faintest flourish. It somehow became known +that his family had a crest, that his position was high; in short, that +he was a de Laney on both sides. He liked to tell it to this girl, +because it was evidently fresh and new to her, and because in the +presence of her inexperience in these matters he gained a confidence in +himself which he had never dared assume before. + +She looked straight in front of her and listened, throwing in a +comment now and then to assist the stream of his talk. At last, when he +fell silent, she reached swiftly out and patted his cheek with her +hand. + +"You are a dear big _boy_," she said quietly. "But I like it--oh, so +much!" + +From the tree tops below the clear warble of the purple finch +proclaimed that under the fronds twilight had fallen. The vast green +surface of the hills was streaked here and there with irregular peaks +of darkness dwindling eastward. The sun was nearly down. + +A sudden gloom blotted out the fretwork of the pine shadows that had, +during the latter part of the afternoon, lain athwart the rock. They +looked up startled. + +The shadow of Harney had crept out to them, and, even as they looked, +it stole on, cat-like, across the lower ridges toward the East. One +after another the rounded hills changed hue as it crossed them. For a +moment it lingered in the tangle of woods at the outermost edge, and +then without further pause glided out over the prairie. They watched it +fascinated. The sparkle was quenched in the Cheyenne; the white gleam +of the Bad Lands became a dull gray, scarce distinguishable from the +gray of the twilight. Though a single mysterious cleft a long yellow +bar pointed down across the plains, paused at the horizon, and slowly +lifted into the air. The mountain shadow followed it steadily up into +the sky, growing and growing against the dullness of the east, until at +last over against them in the heavens was the huge phantom of a +mountain, infinitely greater, infinitely grander than any mountain ever +seen by mortal eyes, and lifting higher and higher, commanded upward by +that single wand of golden light. Then suddenly the wand was withdrawn +and the ghost mountain merged into the yellow afterglow of evening. + +The girl had watched it breathless. At its dissolution she seized the +young man excitedly by the arm. + +"The Spirit Mountain!" she cried. "I have never seen it before; and now +I see it--with you." + +She looked at him with startled eyes. + +"With you," she repeated. + +"What is it? I don't understand." + +She did not seem to hear his question. + +"What is it?" he asked again. + +"Why--nothing." She caught her breath and recovered command of herself +somewhat. "That is, it is just an old legend that I have often heard, +and it startled me for a minute." + +"Will you tell me the legend?" + +"Not now; some time. We must go now, for it will soon be dark." + +They wandered along the ridge toward Deerfoot Gulch in silence. She had +taken her sunbonnet off, and was enjoying the cool of the evening. He +carried the rifle over the crook of his arm, and watched her pensive +face. The poor little chipmunk lay stiffening in the cleft of the rock, +forgotten. The next morning a prying jay discovered him and carried him +away. He was only a little chipmunk after all--a very little +chipmunk--and nobody and nothing missed him in all the wide world, not +even his mate and his young, for mercifully grief in the animal world +is generally short-lived where tragedies are frequent. His life meant +little. His death---- + +At the dip of the gulch they paused. + +"I live just down there," she said, "and now, good-night." + +"Mayn't I take you home?" + +"Remember your promise." + +"Oh, very well." + +She looked at him seriously. "I am going to ask you to do what I have +never asked any man before," she said slowly--"to meet me. I want you +to come to the rock to-morrow afternoon. I want to hear more about New +York." + +"Of course I'll come," he agreed delightedly. "I feel as if I had known +you years already." + +They said good-bye. She walked a few steps irresolutely down the +hillside, and then, with a sudden impulsive movement, returned. She +lifted her face gravely, searchingly to his. + +"I like you," said she earnestly. "You have kind eyes," and was gone +down through the graceful alder saplings. + +Bennington stood and watched the swaying of the leaf tops that marked +her progress until she emerged into the lower gulch. There she turned +and looked back toward the ridge, but apparently could not see him, +though he waved his hand. The next instant Jim Fay strolled into the +"park" from the direction of Lawton's cabin. Bennington saw her spring +to meet him, holding out both hands, and then the two strolled back +down the gulch talking earnestly, their heads close together. + +Why should he care? "Mary, Mary, Mary!" he cried within himself as he +hurried home. And in remote burial grounds the ancient de Laneys on +both sides turned over in their lead-lined coffins. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +BENNINGTON AS A MAN OF BUSINESS + + +That evening Old Mizzou returned from town with a watery eye and a mind +that ran to horses. + +"He is shore a fine cayuse," he asserted with extreme impressiveness. +"He is one of them broncs you jest _loves_. An' he's jes 's cheap! I +likes you a lot, sonny; I deems you as a face-card shore, an' ef any +one ever tries fer to climb yore hump, you jest calls on pore Old +Mizzou an' he mingles in them troubles immediate. You must have that +cayuse an' go scoutin' in th' hills, yo' shore must! Ol' man +Davidson'll do th' work fer ye, but ye shore must scout. 'Taint healthy +not t' git exercise on a cayuse. It shorely ain't! An' you must git t' +know these yar hills, you must. They is beautiful an' picturesque, and +is full of scenery. When you goes back East, you wants to know all +about 'em. I wouldn't hev you go back East without knowin' all about +'em for anythin' in the worl', I likes ye thet much!" + +Old Mizzou paused to wipe away a sympathetic tear with a rather +uncertain hand. + +"Y' wants to start right off too, thet's th' worst of it, so's t' see +'em all afore you goes, 'cause they is lots of hills and I'm 'feared +you won't stay long, sonny; I am that! I has my ideas these yar claims +is no good, I has fer a fact, and they won't need no one here long, and +then we'll lose ye, sonny, so you mus' shore hev that cayuse." + +Old Mizzou rambled on in like fashion most of the evening, to +Bennington's great amusement, and, though next morning he was quite +himself again, he still clung to the idea that Bennington should +examine the pony. + +"He is a fine bronc, fer shore," he claimed, "an' you'd better git +arter him afore some one else gits him." + +As Bennington had for some time tentatively revolved in his mind the +desirability of something to ride, this struck him as being a good +idea. All Westerners had horses--in the books. So he abandoned +_Aliris: A Romance of all Time_, for the morning, and drove down to +Spanish Gulch with Old Mizzou. + +He was mentally braced for devilment, but his arch-enemy, Fay, was not +in sight. To his surprise, he got to the post office quite without +molestation. There he was handed two letters. One was from his parents. +The other, his first business document, proved to be from the mining +capitalist. The latter he found to inclose separate drafts for various +amounts in favour of six men. Bishop wrote that the young man was to +hand these drafts to their owners, and to take receipts for the amounts +of each. He promised a further installment in a few weeks. + +Bennington felt very important. He looked the letter all over again, +and examined the envelope idly. The Spanish Gulch postmark bore date of +the day before. + +"That's funny," said Bennington to himself. "I wonder why Mizzou didn't +bring it up with him last night?" Then he remembered the old man's +watery eye and laughed. "I guess I know," he thought. + +The next thing was to find the men named in the letter. He did not know +them from Adam. Mizzou saw no difficulty, however, when the matter was +laid before him. + +"They're in th' Straight Flush!" he asserted positively. + +This was astounding. How should Old Mizzou know that? + +"I don't exactly know," the old man explained this discrepancy, "but +they generally is!" + +"Don't they ever work?" + +"Work's purty slack," crawfished Davidson. "But I tells you I don't +_know_. We has to find out," and he shuffled away toward the saloon. + +Anybody but Bennington would have suspected something. There was the +delayed letter, the supernatural knowledge of Old Mizzou, the absence +of Fay. Even the Easterner might have been puzzled to account for the +crowded condition of the Straight Flush at ten in the morning, if his +attention had not been quite fully occupied in posing before himself as +the man of business. + +When Mizzou and his companion entered the room, the hum of talk died, +and every one turned expectantly in the direction of the newcomers. + +"Gents," said Old Mizzou, "this is Mr. de Laney, th' new sup'rintendent +of th' Holy Smoke. Mr. de Laney, gents!" + +There was a nodding of heads. + +Every one looked eagerly expectant. The man behind the bar turned back +his cuffs. De Laney, feeling himself the centre of observation, grew +nervous. He drew from his pocket Bishop's letter, and read out the five +names. "I'd like to see those men," he said. + +The men designated came forward. After a moment's conversation, the six +adjourned to the hotel, where paper and ink could be procured. + +After their exit a silence fell, and the miners looked at each other +with ludicrous faces. + +"An' he never asked us to take a drink!" exclaimed one sorrowfully. +"That settles it. It may not be fer th' good of th' camp, Jim Fay, but +I reckons it ain't much fer th' harm of it. I goes you." + +"Me to," "and me," "and me," shouted other voices. + +Fay leaped on the bar and spread his arms abroad. + +"Speech! Speech!" they cried. + +"Gentlemen of the great and glorious West!" he began. "It rejoices me +to observe this spirit animating your bosoms. Trampling down the finer +feelings that you all possess to such an unlimited degree, putting +aside all thought of merely material prosperity, you are now prepared, +at whatever cost, to ally yourselves with that higher poetic justice +which is above barter, above mere expediency, above even the ordinary +this-for-that fairness which often passes as justice among the effete +and unenlightened savages of the East. Gentlemen of the great and +glorious West, I congratulate you!" + +The miners stood close around the bar. Every man's face bore a broad +grin. At this point they interrupted with howls and cat-calls of +applause. "Ain't he a _peach_!" said one to another, and composed +himself again to listen. At the conclusion of a long harangue they +yelled enthusiastically, and immediately began the more informal +discussion of what was evidently a popular proposition. When the five +who had been paid off returned, everybody had a drink, while the +newcomers were made acquainted with the subject. Old Mizzou, who had +listened silently but with a twinkle in his eye, went to hunt up +Bennington. + +They examined the horse together. The owner named thirty dollars as his +price. Old Mizzou said this was cheap. It was not. Bennington agreed to +take the animal on trial for a day or two, so they hitched a lariat +around its neck and led it over to the wagon. After despatching a few +errands they returned to camp. Bennington got out his ledger and +journal and made entries importantly. Old Mizzou disappeared in the +direction of the corral, where he was joined presently by the man +Arthur. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE MEETING AT THE ROCK + + +On his way to keep the appointment of the afternoon, Bennington de +Laney discovered within himself a new psychological experience. He +found that, since the evening before, he had been observing things +about him for the purpose of detailing them to his new friend. Little +beauties of nature--as when a strange bird shone for an instant in +vivid contrast to the mountain laurel near his window; an unusual +effect of pine silhouettes near the sky; a weird, semi-poetic +suggestion of one of Poe's stories implied in a contorted shadow cast +by a gnarled little oak in the light of the moon--these he had noticed +and remembered, and was now eager to tell his companion, with full +assurance of her sympathy and understanding. Three days earlier he +would have passed them by. + +But stranger still was his discovery that he had _always_ noticed such +things, and had remembered them. Observations of the sort had +heretofore been quite unconscious. Without knowing it he had always +been a Nature lover, one who appreciated the poetry of her moods, one +who saw the beauty of her smiles, or, what is more rare, the greater +beauty of her frown. The influence had entered into his being, but had +lain neglected. Now it stole forth as the odour of a dried balsam bough +steals from the corner of a loft whither it has been thrown carelessly. +It was all delightful and new, and he wanted to tell her of it. + +He did so. After a little he told her about _Aliris: A Romance of all +Time_, in which she appeared so interested that he detailed the main +idea and the plot. At her request, he promised to read it to her. He +was very young, you see, and very inexperienced; he threw himself +generously, without reserve, on this girl's sympathies in a manner of +which, assuredly, he should have been quite ashamed. Only the very +young are not ashamed. + +The girl listened, at first half amused. Then she was touched, for she +saw that it was sincere, and youthful, and indicative of clear faith +in what is beautiful, and in fine ideals of what is fitting. Perhaps, +dimly, she perceived that this is good stuff of which to make a man, +provided it springs from immaturity, and not from the sentimentalism of +degeneracy. The loss of it is a price we pay for wisdom. Some think the +price too high. + +As he talked on in this moonshiny way, really believing his ridiculous +abstractions the most important things in the world, gradually she too +became young. She listened with parted lips, and in her great eyes the +soul rose and rose within, clearing away the surface moods as twilight +clears the land of everything but peace. + +He was telling of the East again with a certain felicity of +expression--have we not said he had the gift of words?--and an abandon +of sentiment which showed how thoroughly he confided in the sympathy of +his listener. When we are young we are apt to confide in the sympathy +of every listener, and so we make fools of ourselves, and it takes us a +long time to live down our reputations. As we grow older, we believe +less and less in its reality. Perhaps by and by we do not trust to +anybody's sympathy, not even our own. + +"We have an old country place," he was saying; "it belonged to my +grandfather. My grandfather came by it when the little town was very +small indeed, so he built an old-fashioned stone house and surrounded +it with large grounds." He was seeing the stone house and the large +grounds with that new inner observation which he had just discovered, +and he was trying to the best of his ability to tell what he saw. After +a little he spoke more rhythmically. Many might have thought he spoke +sentimentally, because with feeling; but in reality he was merely +trying with great earnestness for expression. A jarring word would have +brought him back to his everyday mood, but for the time being he was +wrapt in what he saw. This is a condition which all writers, and some +lovers, will recognise. "Now the place is empty--except in +summer--except that we have an old woman who lives tucked away in one +corner of it. I lived there one summer just after I finished college. +Outside my window there was an apple tree that just brushed against +the ledge; there were rose vines, the climbing sort, on the wall; and +then, too, there was a hickory tree that towered 'way over the roof. In +the front yard is what is known all over town as the 'big tree,' a +silver maple, at least twice as tall as the house. It is so broad that +its shade falls over the whole front of the place. In the back is an +orchard of old apple trees, and trellises of big blue grapes. On one +side is a broad lawn, at the back of which is one of the good +old-fashioned flower gardens that does one good to look at. There are +little pink primroses dotting the sod, sweet-william, lavender, +nasturtiums, sweet peas, hollyhocks, bachelor's buttons, portulaca, and +a row of tall sunflowers, the delight of a sleepy colony of hens. I +learned all the flowers that summer." He clasped his hands comfortably +back of his head and looked at her. She was gazing out over the Bad +Lands to the East. "In the very centre, as a sort of protecting nurse +to all the littler flowers," he went on, "is a big lilac bush, and +there the bees and humming birds are thick on a warm spring day. There +are plenty of birds too, but I didn't know so many of them. They +nested everywhere--in the 'big tree,' the orchard, the evergreens, the +hedges, and in the long row of maple trees with trunks as big as a +barrel and limbs that touch across the street." + +"It must be beautiful!" said the girl quietly without looking around. + +Then he began to "suppose." This, as every woman knows, is dangerous +business. + +"It _was_ beautiful," said he. "I can't tell you about it. The words +don't seem to fit some way. I wish you could see it for yourself. I +know you'd enjoy it. I always wanted some one with me to enjoy it too. +Suppose some way we were placed so we could watch the year go by in +those deep windows. First there is the spring and the birds and the +flowers, all of which I've been talking about. Then there is the +summer, when the shades are drawn, when the shadows of the roses wave +slowly across the curtains, when the air outside quivers with heat, and +the air inside tastes like a draught of cool water. All the bird songs +are stilled except that one little fellow still warbles, swaying in +the breeze on the tiptop of the 'big tree,' his notes sliding down the +long sunbeams like beads on a golden thread. Then we would read +together, in the half-darkened 'parlour,' something not very deep, but +beautiful, like Hawthorne's stories; or we would together seek for +these perfect lines of poetry which haunt the memory. In the evening we +would go out to hear the crickets and the tree toads, to see the night +breeze toss the leaves across the calm face of the moon, to be silenced +in spirit by the peace of the stars. Then the autumn would come. We +would taste the 'Concords' and the little red grapes and the big red +grapes. We would take our choice of the yellow sweetings, the hard +white snow apples, or the little red-cheeked fellows from the west +tree. And then, of course, there are the russets! Then there are the +pears, and all the hickory nuts which rattle down on us every time the +wind blows. The leaves are everywhere. We would rake them up into big +piles, and jump into them, and 'swish' about in them. How bracing the +air is! How silvery the sun! How red your cheeks would get! And think +of the bonfires!" + +"And in winter?" murmured the girl. Her eyes were shining. + +"In the winter the wind would howl through the 'big tree,' and +everything would be bleak and cold out doors. We would be inside, of +course, and we would sit on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, +while the evening passed by, watching the 'geese in the chimney' flying +slowly away." + +"'Suppose' some more," she begged dreamily. "I love it. It rests me." + +She clasped her hands back of her head and closed her eyes. + +The young man looked quietly about him. + +"This is a wild and beautiful country," said he, "but it lacks +something. I think it is the soul. The little wood lots of the East +have so much of it." He paused in surprise at his own thoughts. His +only experiences in the woods East had been when out picnicking, or +berrying, and he had never noticed these things. "I don't know as I +ever thought of it there," he went on slowly, as though trying to be +honest with her, "but here it comes to me somehow or another." A little +fly-catcher shot up from the frond below, poised a moment, and dropped +back with closed wings. + +"Do you know the birds?" she asked. + +"I'm afraid not," he admitted; "I don't really _know_ much about +Nature, but I love it, and I'm going to learn more. I know only the +very common birds, and one other. Did you ever hear the hermit thrush +sing?" + +"Never." + +"Oh!" he cried in sudden enthusiasm, "then there is another 'suppose' +for us, the best of all." + +"I love the dear old house!" she objected doubtfully. + +"But the hermit thrush is better. The old country minister took me to +hear him one Sunday afternoon and I shall never forget it." + +She glanced at his animated face through half-closed eyes. + +"Tell me," she urged softly. + +"'Suppose' we were back East," he began, "and in the country, just +about this time of year. We would wait until the afternoon--why! just +about this time, when the sun is getting low. We would push through the +bushes at the edge of the woods where the little tinkling birds sing in +the fence corners, and would enter the deep high woods where the trees +are tall and still. The moss is thick and soft in there, and there are +little pools lying calm and dark, and there is a kind of a _hush_ in +the air--not silence, you know, but like when a big crowd of people are +keeping still. And then we would walk very carefully, and speak low, +and we would sit by the side of a fallen log and wait. After a while +the thrush would sing, a deep note, with a thrill in it, like a bell +slow and solemn. When you hear it you too feel a thrill as though you +had heard a great and noble thought. Why, it is almost _holy_!" + +He turned to the girl. She was looking at him. + +"Why, hullo!" he exclaimed, "what's the matter?" + +Her eyes were brimming with tears. + +"Nothing," she said. "I never heard a man talk as you have been +talking, that is all. The rest of them are cynical and hard and cold. +They would be ashamed to say the things you have said. No, no!" she +cried, laying her hand on his arm as he made a little uneasy movement, +"do not misunderstand me. I like it. I love it. It does me good. I had +lost faith. It is not nice to know the other kind--well." + +"You speak bitterly," he expostulated. + +She laughed. "It is a common experience enough. Pray that you may never +know it. I began as a little child, loving and trusting every one, and +giving my full free heart and confidence to every one who offered his +best to me. All I can say is, that I am thankful for you that you have +escaped the suffering such blind trust leads to." + +She laughed again, bitterly, and threw her arms out. + +"I suppose I shall go on trusting people forever. It's in my nature, +and I can't help it." + +"I hope you will feel you can trust me," said he, troubled at this +passion so much beyond his experience. "I would do anything for you." + +"Do! do!" she cried with contempt. "Yes. Any number of people will _do_ +anything for me. I want some one to _be_ for me!" + +"I'm so sorry!" he said simply, but with great feeling. + +"Don't pity me, don't believe in me!" she cried suddenly in a passion. +"I am not worth it. I am cruel and hard and cold, and I'll never care +for anybody in any way. My nature has been hardened. I _can't_ be good. +I can't care for people. I _can't_ think of giving way to it. It +frightens me." + +She burst into sudden tears and sobbed convulsively. In a moment she +became calm. Then she took her hands from her eyes and smiled. In the +distress of his sympathy Bennington thought he had never seen anything +more beautiful than this breaking forth of the light. + +"You must think I am a very peculiar young person," she said, "but I +told you I was a mystery. I am a little tired to-day, that's all." + +The conversation took a lighter tone and ran on the subject of the new +horse. She was much interested, inquiring of his colour, his size, his +gaits, whether he had been tried. + +"I'll tell you what we will do," she suggested; "we'll go on an +expedition some day. I have a pony too. We will fill up our saddlebags +and cook our own dinner. I know a nice little place over toward Blue +Lead." + +"I've one suggestion to add," put in Bennington, "and that is, that we +go to-morrow." + +She looked a trifle doubtful. + +"I don't know. Aren't we seeing a good deal of each other?" + +"Oh, if it is going to bore you, by all means put it off!" cried +Bennington in genuine alarm. + +She laughed contentedly over his way of looking at it. "I'm not tired +then, so please you; and when I am, I'll let you know. To-morrow it +is." + +"Shall I come after you? What time shall I start?" + +"No, I'd rather meet you somewhere. Let's see. You watch for me, and +I'll ride by in the lower gulch about nine o'clock." + +"Very well. By the way, the band's going to practise in town to-night. +Don't you want to go?" + +"I'd like to, but I promised Jim I'd go with him." + +"Jim?" + +"Jim Fay." + +Bennington felt this as a discordant note. + +"Do you know him very well?" he asked jealously. + +"He's my best friend. I like him very much. He is a fine fellow. You +must meet him." + +"I've met him," said Bennington shortly. + +"Now you must go," she commanded, after a pause. "I want to stay here +for a while." "No," as he opened his mouth to object. "I mean it! +Please be good!" + +After he had gone she sat still until sundown. Once she shook her +shoulders impatiently. "It is _silly_!" she assured herself. As before, +the shadow of Harney crept out to the horizon's edge. There it +stopped. Twilight fell. + +"No Spirit Mountain to-night," she murmured wistfully at last. "Almost +do I believe in the old legend." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AN ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT + + +After supper that night Bennington found himself unaccountably alone in +camp. Old Mizzou had wandered off up the gulch. Arthur had wandered off +down the gulch. The woman had locked herself in her cabin. + +So, having nothing else to do, he got out the manuscript of _Aliris: A +Romance of all Time_, and read it through carefully from the beginning. +To his surprise he found it very poor. Its language was felicitous in +some spots, but stilted in most; the erudition was pedantic, and +dragged in by the ears; the action was idiotic; and the proportions +were padded until they no longer existed as proportions. He was +astounded. He began to see that he had misconceived the whole treatment +of it. It would have to be written all over again, with the love story +as the ruling _motif_. He felt very capable of doing the love story. +He drew some paper toward him and began to write. + +You see he was already developing. Every time a writer is made to +appreciate that his work is poor he has taken a step in advance of it. +Although he did not know that was the reason of it, Bennington +perceived the deficiencies of _Aliris_, because he had promised to read +it to the girl. He saw it through her eyes. + +The young man became absorbed in redescribing the heroine with violet +eyes. A sudden slamming of the door behind him brought him, startled, +to his feet. He laughed, and was about to sit down again, but noticed +that the door had remained open. He arose to shut it. Over the trunks +of the nearer pines played a strange flickering light, throwing them +now into relief, now into shadow. "Strange!" murmured Bennington to +himself, and stepped outside to investigate. As he crossed the sill he +was seized on either side. + +He cried out and struggled blindly, but was held as in a vice. His +captors, whom he dimly perceived to be large men in masks, whirled him +sharply to the left, and he found himself face to face with a third +man, also masked. Beyond him were a score or so more, some of whom bore +pine torches, which, partly blazing and partly smoking, served to cast +the weird light he had seen flickering on the tree trunks. Perfect +silence reigned. The man with whom Bennington was fronted eyed him +gravely through the holes in his mask. + +"I'd like to know what this means?" broke out the Easterner angrily. + +The men did not reply. They stood motionless, as silent as the night. +In spite of his indignation, the young man was impressed. He twisted +his shoulders again. The men at either arm never tightened a muscle to +resist, and yet he was held beyond the possibility of escape. + +"What's the matter? What're you trying to do? Take your hands off me!" +he cried. + +Again the silence fell. + +Then at the end of what seemed to the Easterner a full minute the +masked figure in front spoke. + +"Thar is them that thinks as how it ain't noways needful thet ye +knows," it said in slow and solemn accents, "but by the mercy of th' +others we gives y' thet much satisfaction." + +"You comes hyar from a great corp'ration thet in times gone by we +thinks is public spirited an' enterprisin', which is a mistake. You +pays th' debt of said corp'ration, so they sez, an' tharfore we +welcomes you to our bosom cordial. What happens? You insults us by +paying such low-down ornary cusses as Snowie. Th' camp is just. She +arises an' avenges said insult by stringin' of you up all right an' +proper. We gives you five minutes to get ready." + +"What do you mean?" + +"We hangs you in five minutes." + +The slow, even voice ceased, and again the silence was broken only by +the occasional bursting crackle of a blister in the pine torches. +Bennington tried to realize the situation. It had all come about so +suddenly. + +"I guess you've got the joke on me, boys," he ventured with a nervous +little laugh. And then his voice died away against the stony +immobility of the man opposite as laughter sinks to nothing against +the horror of a great darkness. Bennington began to feel impressed in +earnest. Across his mind crept doubts as to the outcome. He almost +screamed aloud as some one stole up behind and dropped over his throat +the soft cold coil of a lariat. Then, at a signal from the chief, the +two men haled him away. + +They stopped beneath a gnarled oak halfway down the slope to the gulch +bottom, from which protruded, like a long witch arm, a single withered +branch. Over this the unseen threw the end of the lariat. Bennington +faced the expressionless gaze of twenty masks, on which the torchlight +threw Strong black shadows. Directly in front of him the leader posted +himself, watch in hand. + +"Any last requests?" he inquired in his measured tones. + +Bennington felt the need of thinking quickly, but, being unused to +emergencies, he could not. + +"Anywhar y' want yore stuff sent?" the other pursued relentlessly. + +Bennington swallowed, and found his voice at last. + +"Now be reasonable," he pleaded. "It isn't going to do you any good to +hang me. I didn't mean to make any distinctions. I just paid the oldest +debts, that's all. You'll all get paid. There'll be some more money +after a while, and then I can pay some more of you. If you kill me, you +won't get any at all." + +"Won't get any any way," some one muttered audibly from the crowd. + +The man with the watch never stirred. + +"Two minutes more," he said simply. + +One of the men, who had been holding the young man's arms, had fallen +back into the crowd when the lariat was thrown over the oak limb. +During the short colloquy just detailed, the attention of the other had +become somewhat distracted. Bennington wrenched himself free, and +struck this man full in the face. + +He had never in his well-ordered life hit in anger, but behind this +blow was desperation, and the weight of a young and active body. The +man went down. Bennington seized the lariat with both hands and tried +to wrench it over his head. + +The individual who had done all the talking leaped forward toward him, +and dodging a hastily aimed blow, seized him about the waist and threw +him neatly to the ground. Bennington struggled furiously and silently. +The other had great difficulty in holding him down. + +"Come here, some of you fellows," he cried, panting and laughing a +little. "Tie his hands, for the love of Heaven." + +In another moment the Easterner, his arms securely pinioned, stood as +before. He was breathing hard and the short struggle had heated his +blood through and through. Bunker Hill had waked up. He set his teeth, +resolving that they should not get another word out of him. + +The timekeeper raised one hand warningly. Over his shoulder Bennington +dimly saw a tall muscular figure, tense with the expectation of effort, +lean forward to the slack of the lariat. He stared back to the front. + +The leader raised his pistol to give the signal. Bennington shut his +eyes. Then ensued a pause and a murmuring of low voices. Bennington +looked, and, to his surprise, perceived Lawton's girl in earnest +expostulation with the leader of the band. As he listened their voices +rose, so he caught snatches of their talk. + +"Confound it all!" objected the man in exasperated tones, "you don't +play fair. That wasn't the agreement at all." + +"Agreement or no agreement, this thing's gone far enough," she rejoined +sharply. "I've watched the whole performance, and I've been expecting +for the last ten minutes you'd have sense enough to quit." + +The voices died to a murmuring. Once the girl stamped her foot, and +once the man spread his hands out in deprecation. The maskers grouped +about in silent enjoyment of the scene. At last the discussion +terminated. + +"It's all up, boys," cried the man savagely, tearing off his mask. To +Bennington's vast surprise, the features of Jim Fay were discovered. He +approached and began sullenly to undo the young man's pinioned arms. +The others rolled up their masks and put them in their pockets. They +laughed to each other consumedly. The tall man approached, rubbing his +jaw. + +"You hits hard, sonny," said he, "and you don't go down in yore +boots[A] a little bit." + +The group began to break up and move down the gulch, most of the men +shouting out a good-natured word or so of farewell. Bennington, +recovering from his daze at the rapid passage of these events, stepped +forward to where Fay and the girl had resumed their discussion. He saw +that the young miner had recovered his habitual tone of raillery, and +that the girl was now looking up at him with eyes full of deprecation. + +"Miss Lawton," said Bennington with formality, "I hope you will allow +me, after your great kindness, to see that you get down the gulch +safely." + +Fay cut in before the girl could reply. + +"Don't bother about that, de Laney," said he, in a most cavalier +fashion. "I'll see to it." + +"I did not address you, sir!" returned Bennington coldly. The +Westerner's eyes twinkled with amusement. The girl interrupted. + +"Thank you very much, Mr. de Laney, but Mr. Fay is right--I wouldn't +trouble you." Her eyes commanded Fay, and he moved a little apart. + +"Don't be angry," she pleaded hurriedly, in an undertone, "but it's +better that way to-night. And I think you acted grandly." + +"You are the one who acted grandly," he replied, a little mollified. +"How can I ever thank you? You came just in time." + +She laughed. + +"You're not angry, are you?" she coaxed. + +"No, of course not; what right have I to be?" + +"I don't like that--quite--but I suppose it will do. You'll be there +to-morrow?" + +"You know I will." + +"Then good-night." She gave his folded arm a hasty pat and ran on down +the hill after Fay, who had gone on. Bennington saw her seize his +shoulders, as she overtook him, and give them a severe shake. + +The light of the torches down the gulch wavered and disappeared. +Bennington returned to his room. On the table lay his manuscript, and +the ink was hardly dried on the last word of it. Outside a poor-will +began to utter its weird call. The candle before him sputtered, and +burned again with a clear flame. + +[Footnote A: Western--to become frightened.] + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE HEAVENS OPENED + + +Bennington awoke early the next morning, a pleased glow of anticipation +warming his heart, and almost before his eyes were opened he had raised +himself to leap out of the bunk. Then with a disappointed sigh he sank +back. On the roof fell the heavy patter of raindrops. + +After a time he arose and pulled aside the curtains of a window. The +nearer world was dripping; the farther world was hidden or obscured by +long veils of rain, driven in ragged clouds before a west wind. +Yesterday the leaves had waved lightly, the undergrowth of shrubs had +uplifted in feathery airiness of texture, the ground beneath had been +crisp and aromatic with pine needles. Now everything bore a drooping, +sodden aspect which spoke rather of decay than of the life of spring. +Even the chickens had wisely remained indoors, with the exception of a +single bedraggled old rooster, whose melancholy appearance added +another shade of gloom to the dismal outlook. The wind twisted his long +tail feathers from side to side so energetically that, even as +Bennington looked, the poor fowl, perforce, had to scud, careened from +one side to the other, like a heavily-laden craft, into the shelter of +his coop. The wind, left to its own devices, skittered across +cold-looking little pools of water, and tried in vain to induce the +soaked leaves of the autumn before to essay an aerial flight. + +The rain hit the roof now in heavy gusts as though some one had dashed +it from a pail. The wind whistled through a loosened shingle and +rattled around an ill-made joint. Within the house itself some slight +sounds of preparation for breakfast sounded the clearer against the +turmoil outside. And then Bennington became conscious that for some +time he had _felt_ another sound underneath all the rest. It was grand +and organlike in tone, resembling the roar of surf on a sand beach as +much as anything else. He looked out again, and saw that it was the +wind in the trees. The same conditions that had before touched the harp +murmur of a stiller day now struck out a rush and roar almost +awe-inspiring in its volume. Bennington impulsively threw open the +window and leaned out. + +The great hill back of the camp was so steep that the pines growing on +its slope offered to the breeze an almost perpendicular screen of +branches. Instead of one, or at most a dozen trees, the wind here +passed through a thousand at once. As a consequence, the stir of air +that in a level woodland would arouse but a faint whisper, here would +pass with a rustling murmur; a murmur would be magnified into a noise +as of the mellow falling of waters; and now that the storm had +awakened, the hill caught up its cry with a howl so awful and sustained +that, as the open window let in the full volume of its blast, +Bennington involuntarily drew back. He closed the sash and turned to +dress. + +After the first disappointment, strange to say, Bennington became quite +resigned. He had felt, a little illogically, that this giving of a +whole day to the picnic was not quite the thing. His Puritan conscience +impressed him with the sacredness of work. He settled down to the fact +of the rainstorm with a pleasant recognition of its inevitability, and +a resolve to improve his time. + +To that end, after breakfast, he drew on a pair of fleece-lined +slippers, donned a sweater, occupied two chairs in the well-known +fashion, and attacked with energy the pages of Le Conte's _Geology_. +This book, as you very well know, discourses at first with great +interest concerning erosions. Among other things it convinces you that +a current of water, being doubled in swiftness, can transport a mass +sixty-four times as heavy as when it ran half as fast. This astounding +proposition is abstrusely proved. As Bennington had resolved not to +make his reading mere recreation, he drew diagrams conscientiously +until he understood it. Then he passed on to an earnest consideration +of why the revolution of the globe and the resistance of continents +cause oceanic currents of a particular direction and velocity. Besides +this, there was much easier reading concerning alluvial deposits. So +interested did he grow that Old Mizzou, coming in, muddy-hoofed and +glistening from a round of the stock, found him quite unapproachable on +the subject of cribbage. The patriarch then stumped over to Arthur's +cabin. + +After dinner, Bennington picked up the book again, but found that his +brain had reached the limit of spontaneous mental effort. He looked for +Old Mizzou and the cribbage game. The miner had gone to visit Arthur +again. Bennington wandered about disconsolately. + +For a time he drummed idly on the window pane. Then he took out his +revolver and tried to practise through the open doorway. The smoke from +the discharges hung heavy in the damp air, filling the room in a most +disagreeable fashion. Bennington's trips to see the effect of his shots +proved to him the fiendish propensity of everything he touched, were it +never so lightly, to sprinkle him with cold water. Above all, his skill +with the weapon was not great enough as yet to make it much fun. He +abandoned pistol shooting and yawned extensively, wishing it were time +to go to bed. + +In the evening he played cribbage with Old Mizzou. After a time Arthur +and his wife came in and they had a dreary game of "cinch," the man +speaking but little, the woman not at all. Old Mizzou smoked +incessantly on a corncob pipe charged with a peculiarly pungent variety +of tobacco, which filled the air with a blue vapour, and penetrated +unpleasantly into Bennington's mucous membranes. + +The next morning it was still raining. + +Bennington became very impatient indeed, but he tackled Le Conte +industriously, and did well enough until he tried to get it into his +head why various things happen to glaciers. Then viscosity, the lines +of swiftest motion, relegation, and directions of pressure came forth +from the printed pages and mocked him. He arose in his might and went +forth into the open air. + +Before going out he had put on his canvas shooting coat and a pair of +hobnailed leather hunting boots, laced for a little distance at the +front and sides. He visited the horses, standing disconsolate under an +open shed in the corral; he slopped, with constantly accruing masses of +sticky earth at his feet, to the chicken coop, into which he cast an +eye; he even took the kitchen pails and tramped down to the spring and +back. In the gulch he did not see or hear a living thing. A newly-born +and dirty little stream was trickling destructively through all manner +of shivering grasses and flowers. The water from Bennington's sleeves +ran down over the harsh canvas cuffs and turned his hands purple with +the cold. He returned to the cabin and changed his clothes. + +The short walk had refreshed him, but it had spurred his impatience. +Outside, the world seemed to have changed. His experience with the +Hills, up to now, had always been in one phase of their beauty--that of +clear, bright sunshine and soft skies. Now it was as a different +country. He could not get rid of the feeling, foolish as it was, that +it was in reality different; and that the whole episode of the girl and +the rock was as a vision which had passed. It grew indistinct in the +presence of this iron reality of cold and wet. He could not assure +himself he had not imagined it all. Thus, belated, he came to thinking +of her again, and having now nothing else to do, he fell into daydreams +that had no other effect than to reveal to him the impatience which had +been, from the first, the real cause of his restlessness under the +temporary confinement. Now the impatience grew in intensity. He +resolved that if the morrow did not end the storm, he would tramp down +the gulch to make a call. All this time _Aliris_ lay quite untouched. + +The next day dawned darker than ever. After breakfast Old Mizzou, as +usual, went out to feed the horses, and Bennington, through sheer +idleness, accompanied him. They distributed the oats and hay, and then +stood, sheltered from the direct rain, conversing idly. + +Suddenly the wind died and the rain ceased. In the place of the gloom +succeeded a strange sulphur-yellow glare which lay on the spirit with +almost physical oppression. Old Mizzou shouted something, and scrambled +excitedly to the house. Bennington looked about him bewildered. + +Over back of the hill, dimly discernible through the trees, loomed the +black irregular shape of a cloud, in dismal contrast to the yellow +glare which now filled all the sky. The horses, frightened, crowded up +close to Bennington, trying to push their noses over his shoulder. A +number of jays and finches rushed down through the woods and darted +rapidly, each with its peculiar flight, toward a clump of trees and +bushes standing on a ridge across the valley. + +From the cabin Old Mizzou was shouting to him. He turned to follow the +old man. Back of him something vast and awful roared out, and then all +at once he felt himself struggling with a rush of waters. He was jammed +violently against the posts of the corral. There he worked to his feet. + +The whole side of the hill was one vast spread of shallow tossing +water, as though a lake had been let fall on the summit of the ridge. +The smaller bushes were uprooted and swept along, but the trees and +saplings held their own. + +In a moment the stones and ridgelets began to show. It was over. Not a +drop of rain had fallen. + +Bennington climbed the corral fence and walked slowly to the house. The +blacksmith shop was filled to the window, and Arthur's cabin was not +much better. He entered the kitchen. The floor there was some two +inches submerged, but the water was slowly escaping through the +down-hill door by which Bennington had come in. Across the dining-room +door Mrs. Arthur had laid a folded rug. In front of the barrier stood +the lady herself, vigorously sweeping back the threatening water from +her only glorious apartment. + +Bennington took the broom from her and swept until the cessation of the +flood made it no longer necessary. Mrs. Arthur commenced to mop the +floor. The young man stepped outside. There he was joined a moment +later by the other two. + +They offered no explanation of their whereabouts during the trouble, +but Bennington surmised shrewdly that they had hunted a dry place. + +"Glory!" cried Old Mizzou. "Lucky she misses us!" + +"What was it? Where'd it come from?" inquired Bennington, shaking the +surface drops from his shoulders. He was wet through. + +"Cloud-burst," replied the miner. "She hit up th' ridge a ways. If +she'd ever burst yere, sonny, ye'd never know what drownded ye. Look at +that gulch!" + +The water had now drained from the hill entirely. It could be seen that +most of the surface earth had been washed away, leaving the skeleton of +the mountain bare. Some of the more slightly rooted trees had fallen, +or clung precariously to the earth with bony fingers. But the gulch +itself was terrible. The mountain laurel, the elders, the sarvis +bushes, the wild roses which, a few days before, had been fragrant and +beautiful with blossom and leaf and musical with birds, had +disappeared. In their stead rolled an angry brown flood whirling in +almost unbroken surface from bank to bank. Several oaks, submerged to +their branches, raised their arms helplessly. As Bennington looked, +one of these bent slowly and sank from sight. A moment later it shot +with great suddenness half its length into the air, was seized by the +eager waters, and whisked away as lightly as though it had been a tree +of straw. Dark objects began to come down with the stream. They seemed +to be trying to preserve a semblance of dignity in their stately +bobbing up and down, but apparently found the attempt difficult. The +roar was almost deafening, but even above it a strangely deliberate +grinding noise was audible. Old Mizzou said it was the grating of +boulders as they were rolled along the bed of the stream. The yellow +glow had disappeared from the air, and the gloom of rain had taken its +place. + +A fine mist began to fall. Bennington for the first time realized he +was wet and shivering, and so he turned inside to change his clothes. + +"It'll all be over in a few hours," remarked Arthur. "I reckon them +Spanish Gulch people'll wish they lived up-stream." + +Bennington paused at the doorway. + +"That's so," he commented. "How about Spanish Gulch? Will it all be +drowned out?" + +"No, I reckon not," replied Arthur. "They'll get wet down a lot, and +have wet blankets to sleep in to-night, that's all. You see the gulch +spraddles out down there, an' then too all this timber'll jam down this +gulch a-ways. That'll back up th' water some, and so she won't come all +of a rush." + +"I see," said Bennington. + +The afternoon was well enough occupied in repairing to some extent the +ravages of the brief storm. A length of the corral had succumbed to the +flood, many valuable tools in the blacksmith shop were in danger of +rust from the dampness, and Arthur and his wife had been completely +washed out. All three men worked hard setting things to rights. The +twilight caught them before their work was done. + +Bennington found himself too weary to attempt an unknown, +_dĂ©bris_-covered road by dark. He played cribbage with Old Mizzou and +won. + +About half past nine he pushed back his chair and went outside. The +stars had come out by the thousand, and a solitary cricket, which had +in some way escaped the deluge, was chirping in the middle distance. +With a sudden uplift of the heart he realized that he would see "her" +on the morrow. He learned that no matter how philosophically we may +have borne a separation, the prospect of its near end shows us how +strong the repression has been; the lifting of the bonds makes evident +how much they have galled. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE WORLD MADE YOUNG + + +The morning fulfilled the promise of the night before. Bennington de +Laney awoke to a sun-bright world, fresh with the early breezes. A +multitude of birds outside the window bubbled and warbled and carolled +away with all their little mights, either in joy at the return of +peace, or in sorrow at the loss of their new-built houses. Sorrow and +joy sound much alike as nature tells them. The farther ridges and the +prairies were once more in view, but now, oh, wonder! the great plain +had cast aside its robes of monk brown, and had stepped forth in jolly +green-o'Lincoln. The air was full of tingling life. Altogether a +morning to cry one to leap eagerly from bed, to rush to the window, to +drink in deep draughts of electric balmy ozone, and to thank heaven for +the grace of mere existence. + +That at least is what Bennington did. And he did more. He despatched a +hasty breakfast, and went forth and saddled his steed, and rode away +down the gulch, with never a thought of sample tests, and never a care +whether the day's work were done or not. For this was springtime, and +the air was snapping with it. Near the chickens' shelter the burnished +old gobbler spread his tail and dragged his wings and puffed his +feathers and swelled himself red in the face, to the great admiration +of a demure gray-brown little turkey hen. Overhead wheeled two small +hawks screaming. They clashed, and light feathers came floating down +from the encounter; yet presently they flew away together to a hole in +a dead tree. Three song sparrows dashed almost to his very feet, so +busily fighting that they hardly escaped the pony's hoofs. Everywhere +love songs trilled from the underbrush; and Bennington de Laney, as +young, as full of life, as unmated as they, rode slowly along thinking +of his lady love, and---- + +"Hullo! Where are you going?" cried she. + +He looked up with eager joy, to find that they had met in the middle +of what used to be the road. The gulch had been swept bare by the +flood, not only of every representative of the vegetable world, but +also of the very earth in which it had grown. From the remains of the +roadbed projected sharp flints and rocks, among which the broncos +picked their way. + +"Good-morning, Mary," he cried. "I was just coming to see you. Wasn't +it a great rain?" + +"And isn't the gulch awful? Down near our way the timber began to jam, +and it is all choked up; but up here it is desolate." + +He turned his horse about, and they paced slowly along together, +telling each other their respective experiences in the storm. It seemed +that the Lawtons had known nothing of the cloud-burst itself, except +from its effects in filling up the ravine. Rumours of the drowning of a +miner were about. + +It soon became evident that the brightness of the morning was reflected +from the girl's mood. She fairly sparkled with gaiety and high spirits. +The two got along famously. + +"Where are you going?" asked Bennington at last. + +"On the picnic, of course," she rejoined promptly. "Weren't you +invited? I thought you were." + +"I thought it would be too wet," he averred in explanation. + +"Not a bit! The rain dries quickly in the hills, and the cloud-burst +only came into this gulch. I have here," she went on, twisting around +in her saddle to inspect a large bundle and a pair of well-stuffed +saddle bags, "I have here a coffee pot, a frying pan, a little kettle, +two tin cups, and various sorts of grub. I am fixed for a scout sure. +Now when we get near your camp you must run up and get an axe and some +matches." + +Bennington observed with approval the corpulency of the bundle and the +skilful manner with which it was tied on. He noted, with perhaps more +approval, her lithe figure in its old-fashioned painter's blouse and +rough skirt, and the rosiness of her cheeks under a cloth cap caught on +awry. As the ponies sought a path at a snail's pace through the sharp +flints, she showed in a thousand ways how high the gaiety of her +animal spirits had mounted. She sang airy little pieces of songs. She +uttered single clear notes. She mocked, with a ludicrously feminine +croak, the hoarse voice of a crow sailing over them. She rallied +Bennington mercilessly on his corduroys, his yellow flapped pistol +holster, his laced boots. She went over in ridiculous pantomime the +scene of the mock lynching, until Bennington rolled in his saddle with +light-hearted laughter, and wondered how it was possible he had ever +taken the affair seriously. When he returned with the axe she was +hugely alarmed lest he harm himself by his awkward way of carrying it, +and gave him much wholesome advice in her most maternal manner. After +all of which she would catch his eye, and they would both laugh to +startle the birds. + +Blue Lead proved to be some distance away, for which fact Bennington +was not sorry. At length they surmounted a little ridge. Over its +summit there started into being a long cool "draw," broad and shallow +near the top, but deepening by insensible degrees into a cañon filled +already with broad-leaved shrubs, and thickly grown with saplings of +beech and ash. Through the screen of slender trunks could be seen +miniature open parks carpeted with a soft tiny fern, not high enough to +conceal the ears of a rabbit, or to quench the flame of the tiger lily +that grew there. Soon a little brook sprang from nowhere, and crept +timidly through and under thick mosses. After a time it increased in +size, and when it had become large enough to bubble over clear gravel, +Mary called a halt. + +"We'll have our picnic here," she decided. + +The ravine at this point received another little gulch into itself, and +where the two came together the bottom widened out into almost parklike +proportions. On one side was a grass-plot encroached upon by numerous +raspberry vines. On the other was the brook, flowing noisily in the +shade of saplings and of ferns. + +Bennington unsaddled the horses and led them over to the grass-plot, +where he picketed them securely in such a manner that they could not +become entangled. When he returned to the brookside he found that Mary +had undone her bundle and spread out its contents. There were various +utensils, some corn meal, coffee, two slices of ham, raw potatoes, a +small bottle of milk, some eggs wonderfully preserved by moss inside +the pail, and some bread and cake. Bennington eyed all this in dismay. +She caught his look and laughed. + +"Can't you cook? Well, I can; you just obey orders." + +"We won't get anything to eat before night," objected Bennington +dolefully as he looked over the decidedly raw material. + +"And he's _so_ hungry!" she teased. "Never mind, you build a fire." + +Bennington brightened. He had one outdoor knack--that of lighting +matches in a wind and inducing refractory wood to burn. His skill had +often been called into requisition in the igniting of beach fires, and +the so-called "camp fires" of girls. He collected dry twigs from the +sunny places, cut slivers with his knife, built over the whole a +wigwam-shaped pyramid of heavier twigs, against which he leaned his +firewood. Then he touched off the combination. The slivers ignited the +twigs, the twigs set fire to the wigwam, the wigwam started the +firewood. Bennington's honour was vindicated. He felt proud. + +Mary, who had been filling the coffee pot at the creek, approached and +viewed the triumph. She cast upon it the glance of scorn. + +"That's no cooking fire," said she. + +So Bennington, under her directions, placed together the two parallel +logs with the hewn sides and built the small bright fire between them. + +"Now you see," she explained, "I can put my frying pan, and coffee pot, +and kettle across the two logs. I can get at them easy, and don't burn +my fingers. Now you may peel the potatoes." + +The Easterner peeled potatoes under constant laughing amendment as to +method. Then the small cook collected her materials about her, in grand +preparation for the final rites. She turned back the loose sleeves of +her blouse to the elbow. + +This drew an exclamation from Bennington. + +"Why, Mary, how white your arms are!" he cried, astonished. + +She surveyed her forearm with a little blush, turning it back and +forth. + +"I _am_ pretty tanned," she agreed. + +The coffee pot was filled and placed across the logs at one end, and +left to its own devices a little removed from the hottest of the fire. +The kettle stood next, half filled with salted water, in which nestled +the potatoes like so many nested eggs. Mary mixed a mysterious +concoction of corn meal, eggs, butter, and some white powder, mushing +the whole up with milk and water. The mixture she spread evenly in the +bottom of the frying pan, which she set in a warm place. + +"It isn't much of a baking tin," she commented, eyeing it critically, +"but it'll do." + +Under her direction Bennington impaled the two slices of ham on long +green switches, and stuck these upright in the ground in such a +position that the warmth from the flames could just reach them. + +"They'll never cook there," he objected. + +"Didn't expect they would," she retorted briefly. Then relenting, +"They finish better if they're warmed through first," she explained. + +By this time the potatoes were bubbling energetically and the coffee +was sending out a fragrant steam. Mary stabbed experimentally at the +vegetables with a sharpened sliver. Apparently satisfied, she drew back +with a happy sigh. She shook her hair from her eyes and smiled across +at Bennington. + +"Ready! Go!" cried she. + +The frying pan was covered with a tin plate on which were heaped live +coals. More coals were poked from between the logs on to a flat place, +were spread out thin, and were crowned by the frying pan and its +glowing freight. Bennington held over the fire a switch of ham in each +hand, taking care, according to directions, not to approach the actual +blaze. Mary borrowed his hunting knife and disappeared into the +thicket. In a moment she returned with a kettle-lifter, improvised very +simply from a forked branch of a sapling. One of the forks was left +long for the hand, the other was cut short. The result was like an +Esquimaux fishhook. She then relieved Bennington of his task, while +that young man lifted the kettle from the fire and carefully drained +away the water. + +"Dinner!" she called gaily. + +Bennington looked up surprised. He had been so absorbed in the spells +wrought by this dainty woods fairy that he had forgotten the flight of +time. It was enough for him to watch the turn of her wrist, the swift +certainty of her movements, to catch the glow lit in her face by the +fire over which she bent. Then he suddenly remembered that her +movements had all along tended toward dinner, and were not got up +simply and merely that he might discover new charms in the small +housekeeper. + +He found himself seated on a rock with a tin plate in his lap, a tin +cup at his side, and an eager little lady in front of him, anxious that +he should taste all her dishes and deliver an opinion forthwith. + +The coffee he pronounced nectar; the ham and mealy potatoes, delicious; +the "johnny-cake" of a yellow golden crispness which the originator of +johnny-cake might envy; and the bread and cake and butter and sugar +only the less meritorious that they had not been prepared by her own +hands and on the spot. + +"And see!" she cried, clapping her hands, "the sun is still directly +over us. It is not night yet, silly boy!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +AND HE DID EAT + + +After the meal he wanted to lie down in the grasses and watch the +clouds sail by, but she would have none of it. She haled him away to +the brookside. There she showed him how to wash dishes by filling them +half full of water in which fine gravel has been mixed, and then +whirling the whole rapidly until the tin is rubbed quite clean. Never +was prosaic task more delightful. They knelt side by side on the bank, +under the dense leaves, and dabbled in the water happily. The ferns +were fresh and cool. Once a redbird shot confidently down from above on +half-closed wing, caught sight of these intruders, brought up with a +swish of feathers, and eyed them gravely for some time from a +neighbouring treelet. Apparently he was satisfied with his inspection, +for after a few minutes he paid no further attention to them, but went +about his business quietly. When the dishes had been washed, Mary +stood over Bennington while he packed them in the bundle and strapped +them on the saddle. + +"Now," said she at last, "we have nothing more to think of until we go +home." + +She was like a child, playing with exhaustless spirits at the most +trivial games. Not for a moment would she listen to anything of a +serious nature. Bennington, with the heavier pertinacity of men when +they have struck a congenial vein, tried to repeat to some extent the +experience of the last afternoon at the rock. Mary laughed his +sentiment to ridicule and his poetics to scorn. Everything he said she +twisted into something funny or ridiculous. He wanted to sit down and +enjoy the calm peace of the little ravine in which they had pitched +their temporary camp, but she made a quiet life miserable to him. At +last in sheer desperation he arose to pursue, whereupon she vanished +lightly into the underbrush. A moment later he heard her clear laugh +mocking him from some elder thickets a hundred yards away. Bennington +pursued with ardour. It was as though a slow-turning ocean liner were +to try to run down a lively little yacht. + +Bennington had always considered girls as weak creatures, incapable of +swift motion, and needing assistance whenever the country departed from +the artificial level of macadam. He had also thought himself fairly +active. He revised these ideas. This girl could travel through the thin +brush of the creek bottom two feet to his one, because she ran more +lightly and surely, and her endurance was not a matter for discussion. +The question of second wind did not concern her any more than it does a +child, whose ordinary mode of progression is heartbreaking. Bennington +found that he was engaged in the most delightful play of his life. He +shouted aloud with the fun of it. He had the feeling that he was +grasping at a sunbeam, or a mist-shape that always eluded him. + +He would lose her utterly, and would stand quite motionless, listening, +for a long time. Suddenly, without warning, an exaggerated leaf crown +would fall about his neck, and he would be overwhelmed with ridicule at +the outrageous figure he presented. Then for a time she seemed +everywhere at once. The mottled sunlight under the trees danced and +quivered after her, smiling and darkening as she dimpled or was grave. +The little whirlwinds of the gulches seized the leaves and danced with +her too, the birches and aspens tossed their hands, and rising ever +higher and wilder and more elf-like came the mocking cadences of her +laughter. + +After a time she disappeared again. Bennington stood still, waiting for +some new prank, but he waited in vain. He instituted a search, but the +search was fruitless. He called, but received no reply. At last he made +his way again to the dell in which they had lunched, and there he found +her, flat on her back, looking at the little summer clouds through +wide-open eyes. + +Her mood appeared to have changed. Indeed that seemed to be +characteristic of her; that her lightness was not so much the lightness +of thistle down, which is ever airy, the sport of every wind, but +rather that of the rose vine, mobile and swaying in every breeze, yet +at the same time rooted well in the wholesome garden earth. She cared +now to be silent. In a little while Bennington saw that she had fallen +asleep. For the first time he looked upon her face in absolute repose. + +Feature by feature, line by line, he went over it, and into his heart +crept that peculiar yearning which seems, on analysis, half pity for +what has past and half fear for what may come. It is bestowed on little +children, and on those whose natures, in spite of their years, are +essentially childlike. For this girl's face was so pathetically young. +Its sensitive lips pouted with a child's pout, its pointed chin was +delicate with the delicacy that is lost when the teeth have had often +to be clenched in resolve; its cheek was curved so softly, its long +eyelashes shaded that cheek so purely. Yet somewhere, like an +intangible spirit which dwelt in it, unseen except through its littlest +effects, Bennington seemed to trace that subtle sadness, or still more +subtle mystery, which at times showed so strongly in her eyes. He +caught himself puzzling over it, trying to seize it. It was most like a +sorrow, and yet like a sorrow which had been outlived. Or, if a +mystery, it was as a mystery which was such only to others, no longer +to herself. The whole line of thought was too fine-drawn for +Bennington's untrained perceptions. Yet again, all at once, he realized +that this very fact was one of the girl's charms to him; that her mere +presence stirred in him perceptions, intuitions, thoughts--yes, even +powers--which he had never known before. He felt that she developed +him. He found that instead of being weak he was merely latent; that now +the latent perceptions were unfolding. Since he had known her he had +felt himself more of a man, more ready to grapple with facts and +conditions on his own behalf, more inclined to take his own view of the +world and to act on it. She had given him independence, for she had +made him believe in himself, and belief in one's self is the first +principle of independence. Bennington de Laney looked back on his old +New York self as on a being infinitely remote. + +She awoke and opened her eyes slowly, and looked at him without +blinking. The sun had gone nearly to the ridge top, and a Wilson's +thrush was celebrating with his hollow notes the artificial twilight +of its shadow. + +She smiled at him a little vaguely, the mists of sleep clouding her +eyes. It is the unguarded moment, the instant of awakening. At such an +instant the mask falls from before the features of the soul. I do not +know what Bennington saw. + +"Mary, Mary!" he cried uncontrolledly, "I love you! I love you, girl." + +He had never before seen any one so vexed. She sat up at once. + +"Oh, _why_ did you have to say that!" she cried angrily. "Why did you +have to spoil things! Why couldn't you have let it go along as it was +without bringing _that_ into it!" + +She arose and began to walk angrily up and down, kicking aside the +sticks and stones as she encountered them. + +"I was just beginning to like you, and now you do this. _Oh_, I am so +angry!" She stamped her little foot. "I thought I had found a man for +once who could be a good friend to me, whom I could meet unguardedly, +and behold! the third day he tells me this!" + +"I am sorry," stammered Bennington, his new tenderness fleeing, +frightened, into the inner recesses of his being. "I beg your pardon, I +didn't know--_Don't_! I won't say it again. Please!" + +The declaration had been manly. This was ridiculously boyish. The girl +frowned at him in two minds as to what to do. + +"Really, truly," he assured her. + +She laughed a little, scornfully. "Very well, I'll give you one more +chance. I like you too well to drop you entirely." (What an air of +autocracy she took, to be sure!) "You mustn't speak of that again. And +you must forget it entirely." She lowered at him, a delicious picture +of wrath. + +They saddled the horses and took their way homeward in silence. The +tenderness put out its flower head from the inner sanctuary. Apparently +the coast was clear. It ventured a little further. The evening was very +shadowy and sweet and musical with birds. The tenderness boldly invaded +Bennington's eyes, and spoke, oh, so timidly, from his lips. + +"I will do just as you say," it hesitated, "and I'll be very, very +good indeed. But am I to have no hope at all?" + +"Why can't you keep off that standpoint entirely?" + +"Just that one question; then I will." + +"Well," grudgingly, "I suppose nothing on earth could keep the average +mortal from hoping; but I can't answer that there is any ground for +it." + +"When can I speak of it again?" + +"I don't know--after the Pioneer's Picnic." + +"That is when you cease to be a mystery, isn't it?" + +She sighed. "That is when I become a greater mystery--even to myself, I +fear," she added in a murmur too low for him to catch. + +They rode on in silence for a little space more. The night shadows were +flowing down between the trees like vapour. The girl of her own accord +returned to the subject. + +"You are greatly to be envied," she said a little sadly, "for you are +really young. I am old, oh, very, very old! You have trust and +confidence. I have not. I can sympathize; I can understand. But that +is all. There is something within me that binds all my emotions so fast +that I can not give way to them. I want to. I wish I could. But it is +getting harder and harder for me to think of absolutely trusting, in +the sense of giving out the self that is my own. Ah, but you are to be +envied! You have saved up and accumulated the beautiful in your nature. +I have wasted mine, and now I sit by the roadside and cry for it. My +only hope and prayer is that a higher and better something will be +given me in place of the wasted, and yet I have no right to expect it. +Silly, isn't it?" she concluded bitterly. + +Bennington made no reply. + +They drew near the gulch, and could hear the mellow sound of bells as +the town herd defiled slowly down it toward town. + +"We part here," the young man broke the long silence. "When do I see +you again?" + +"I do not know." + +"To-morrow?" + +"No." + +"Day after?" + +The girl shook herself from a reverie. "If you want me to believe you, +come every afternoon to the Rock, and wait. Some day I will meet you +there." + +She was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +OLD MIZZOU RESIGNS + + +Bennington went faithfully to the Rock for four days. During whole +afternoons he sat there looking out over the Bad Lands. At sunset he +returned to camp. _Aliris: A Romance of all Time_ gathered dust. +Letters home remained unwritten. Prospecting was left to the capable +hands of Old Mizzou until, much to Bennington's surprise, that +individual resigned his position. + +The samples lay in neatly tied coffee sacks just outside the door. The +tabulations and statistics only needed copying to prepare them for the +capitalist's eye. The information necessary to the understanding of +them reposed in a grimy notebook, requiring merely throwing into shape +as a letter to make them valuable to the Eastern owner of the property. +Anybody could do that. + +Old Mizzou explained these things to Bennington. + +"You-all does this jes's well's I," he said. "You expresses them +samples East, so as they kin assay 'em; an' you sends them notes and +statistics. Then all they is to do is to pay th' rest of the boys when +th' money rolls in. That ain't none of my funeral." + +"But there's the assessment work," Bennington objected. + +"That comes along all right. I aims to live yere in the camp jest th' +same as usual; and I'll help yo' git started when you-all aims to do +th' work." + +"What do you want to quit for, then? If you live here, you may as well +draw your pay." + +"No, sonny, that ain't my way. I has some prospectin' of my own to do, +an' as long as I is a employay of Bishop, I don't like to take his time +fer my work." + +Bennington thought this very high-minded on the part of Old Mizzou. + +"Very well," he agreed, "I'll write Bishop." + +"Oh, no," put in the miner hastily, "no need to trouble. I resigns in +writin', of course; an' I sees to it myself." + +"Well, then, if you'll help me with the assessment work, when shall we +begin?" + +"C'yant jest now," reflected Old Mizzou, "'cause, as I tells you, I +wants to do some work of my own. A'ter th' Pioneer's Picnic, I +reckons." + +The Pioneer's Picnic seemed to limit many things. + +Bennington shipped the ore East, tabulated the statistics, and wrote +his report. About two weeks later he received a letter from Bishop +saying that the assay of the samples had been very poor--not at all up +to expectations--and asking some further information. As to the latter, +Bennington consulted Old Mizzou. The miner said, "I told you so," and +helped on the answer. After this the young man heard nothing further +from his employer. As no more checks came from the East, he found +himself with nothing to do. + +For four afternoons, as has been said, he fruitlessly haunted the Rock. +On the fifth morning he met the girl on horseback. She was quite the +same as at first, and they resumed their old relations as if the fatal +picnic had never taken place. In a very few days they were as intimate +as though they had known each other for years. + +Bennington read to her certain rewritten parts of _Aliris: A Romance of +all Time,_ which would have been ridiculous to any but these two. They +saw it through the glamour of youth; for, in spite of her assertions of +great age, the girl, too, felt the whirl of that elixir in her veins. You +see, he was twenty-one and she was twenty: magic years, more venerable +than threescore and ten. She gave him sympathy, which was just what he +needed for the sake of his self-confidence and development, just the +right thing for him in that effervescent period which is so necessary a +concomitant of growth. The young business man indulges in a hundred wild +schemes, to be corrected by older heads. The young artist paints strange +impressionism, stranger symbolism, and perhaps a strangest other-ism, +before at last he reaches the medium of his individual genius. The young +writer thinks deep and philosophical thoughts which he expresses in +measured polysyllabic language; he dreams wild dreams of ideal motive, +which he sets forth in beautiful allegorical tales full of imagery; and +he delights in Rhetoric--flower-crowned, flashing-eyed, deep-voiced +Rhetoric, whom he clasps to his heart and believes to be true, although +the whole world declares her to be false; and then, after a time, he +decides not to introduce a new system of metaphysics, but to tell a plain +story plainly. Ah, it is a beautiful time to those who dwell in it, and +such a funny time to those who do not! + +They came to possess an influence over each other. She decided how they +should meet; he, how they should act. She had only to be gay, and he +was gay; to be sad, and he was sad; to show her preference for serious +discourse, and he talked quietly of serious things; to sigh for dreams, +and he would rhapsodize. It sometimes terrified her almost when she saw +how much his mood depended on hers. But once the mood was established, +her dominance ceased and his began. If they were sad or gay or +thoughtful or poetic, it was in his way and not in hers. He took the +lead masterfully, and perhaps the more effectually in that it was done +unconsciously. And in a way which every reader will understand, but +which genius alone could put into words, this mutual psychical +dependence made them feel the need of each other more strongly than any +merely physical dependence ever could. + +There is much to do in a new and romantic country, where the imminence +of a sordid, dreary future, when the soil will raise its own people and +the crop will be poor, is mercifully veiled. The future then counts +little in the face of the Past--the Past with its bearded strong men of +other lands, bringing their power and vigour here to be moulded and +directed by the influences of the frontier. Its shadow still lies over +the land. + +They did it all. The Rock was still the favourite place to read or +talk--crossbars nailed on firmly made "shinning" unnecessary now--but +it was often deserted for days while they explored. Bennington had +bought the little bronco, and together they extended their +investigations of the country in all directions. They rode to Spring +Creek Valley. They passed the Range over into Custer Valley. Once they +climbed Harney by way of Grizzly Gulch. + +Thus they grew to know the Hills intimately. From the summit of the +Rock they would often look abroad over the tangle of valleys and +ridges, selecting the objective points for their next expedition. Many +surprises awaited them, for they found that here, as everywhere, a +seemingly uniform exterior covered an almost infinite variety. + +Or again, the horses were given a rest. The sarvis-berries ripened, and +they picked hatfuls. Then followed the raspberries on the stony hills. +They walked four unnecessary miles to see a forest fire, and six to buy +buckskin work from a band of Sioux who had come up into the timber for +their annual supply of tepee poles. They taught their ponies tricks. +They even went wading together, like two small children, in a pool of +Battle Creek. + +Bennington was deliciously, carelessly, forgetfully happy. Only there +was Jim Fay. That individual was as much of a persecution as ever, and +he seemed to enjoy a greater intimacy with the girl than did the +Easterner. He did not see her as often as did the latter, but he +appeared to be more in her confidence. Bennington hated Jim Fay. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE SPIRES OF STONE + + +One afternoon they had pushed over back of Harney, up a very steep +little trail in a very tiny cleft-like cañon, verdant and cool. All at +once the trail had stood straight on end. The ponies scrambled up +somehow, and they found themselves on a narrow open _mesa_ splashed +with green moss and matted with an aromatic covering of pine needles. + +Beyond the easternmost edge of the plateau stood great spires of stone, +a dozen in all, several hundred feet high, and of solid granite. They +soared up grandly into the open blue, like so many cathedral spires, +drawing about them that air of solitude and stillness which accompanies +always the sublime in Nature. Even boundless space was amplified at the +bidding of their solemn uplifted fingers. The girl reined in her horse. + +"Oh!" she murmured in a hushed voice, "I feel impertinent--as though I +were intruding." + +A squirrel many hundreds of feet below could be heard faintly barking. + +"There _is_ something solemn about them," the boy agreed in the same +tone, "but, after all, we are nothing to them. They are thinking their +own thoughts, far above everything in the world." + +She slipped from her horse. + +"Let's sit here and watch them," she said. "I want to look at them, and +_feel_ them." + +They sat on the moss, and stared solemnly across at the great spires of +stone. + +"They are waiting for something there," she observed; "for something +that has not come to pass, and they are looking for it always toward +the East. Don't you see how they are waiting?" + +"Yes, like Indian warriors wrapped each in his blanket. They might be +the Manitous. They say there are lots of them in the Hills." + +"Yes, of course!" she cried, on fire with the idea. "They are the Gods +of the people, and they are waiting for something that is +coming--something from the East. What is it?" + +"Civilization," he suggested. + +"Yes! And when this something, this Civilization, comes, then the +Indians are to be destroyed, and so their Gods are always watching for +it toward the East." + +"And," he went on, "when it comes at last, then the Manitous will have +to die, and so the Indians know that their hour has struck when these +great stone needles fall." + +"Why, we have made a legend," she exclaimed with wonder. + +They stretched out on their backs along the slope, and stared up at the +newly dignified Manitous in delicious silence. + +"There was a legend once, you remember?" he began hesitatingly, "the +first day we were on the Rock together. It was about a Spirit +Mountain." + +"Yes, I remember, the day we saw the Shadow." + +"You said you'd tell it to me some time." + +"Did I?" + +"Don't you think now is a good time?" + +She considered a moment idly. + +"Why, yes, I suppose so," she assented, after a pause. "It isn't much +of a legend though." She clasped her hands back of her head. "It goes +like this," she began comfortably: + +"Once upon a time, when the world was very young, there was an evil +Manitou named _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_. He was a very wicked Manitou, but he +was also very accomplished, for he could change himself into any shape +he wished to assume, and he could travel swifter than the wind. But he +was also very wicked. In old times the centres of all the trees were +fat, and people could get food from them, but _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ walked +through the forest and pushed his staff down through the middle of the +trunks, and that is why the cores of the trees are dark-coloured. Maple +sap used to be pure sirup once, too, but _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ diluted it +with rain water just out of spite. But there was one peculiar thing +about _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_. He could not cross a vein of gold or of silver. +There was some sort of magic in them that turned him back--repelled +him. + +"Now, one day two lovers were wandering about on the prairie away east +of here. One of them was named _Mon-e-dowa_, or the Bird Lover, and the +other was _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_, or Rippling Water. And as these two walked +over the plains talking together, along came the evil spirit, +_Ne-naw-bo-shoo_, and as soon as he saw them he chased them, intending +to kill them and drink their blood, as was his custom. + +"They fled far over the prairie. Everywhere that _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_ +stepped, prairie violets grew up; and everywhere that _Mon-e-dowa_ +stepped, a lark sprang up and began to sing. But the wicked +_Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ gained on them fast, for he could run very swiftly. + +"Then suddenly they saw in front of them a great mountain, grown with +pines and seamed with fissures. This astonished them greatly, for they +knew there were no mountains in the prairie country at all; but they +had no time to spare, so they climbed quickly up a broad cañon and +concealed themselves. + +"Now, when the wicked Manitou came along he tried to enter the cañon +too, but he had to stop, because down in the depths of the mountain +were veins of gold and silver which he could not cross. For many days +he raged back and forth, but in vain. At last he got tired and went +away. + +"Then _Mon-e-dowa_ and _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_, who had been living quite +peacefully on the game with which the mountain swarmed, came out of the +cañon and turned toward home. But as soon as they had set foot on the +level prairie again, the mountain vanished like a cloud, and then they +knew they had been aided by _Man-a-boo-sho_, the good Manitou." + +The girl arose and shook her skirt free of the pine needles that clung +to it. + +"Ever since then," she went on, eyeing Bennington saucily sideways, +"the mountain has been invisible except to a very few. The legend says +that when a maid and a warrior see it together they will be----" + +"What?" asked Bennington as she paused. + +"Dead within the year!" she cried gaily, and ran lightly to her pony. + +"Did you like my legend?" she asked, as the ponies, foot-bunched, +minced down the steepest of the trail. + +"Very much; all but the moral." + +"Don't you want to die?" + +"Not a bit." + +"Then I'll have to." + +"That would be the same thing." + +And Bennington dared talk in this way, for the next day began the +Pioneer's Picnic, and lately she had been very kind. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE PIONEER'S PICNIC + + +The Lawtons were not going to the picnic. Bennington was to take Mary +down to Rapid, where the girl was to stay with a certain Dr. McPherson +of the School of Mines. + +An early start was accomplished. They rode down the gulch through the +dwarf oaks, past the farthermost point, and so out into the hard level +dirt road of Battle Creek cañon. Beyond were the pines, and a rugged +road, flint-edged, full of dips and rises, turns and twists, hovering +on edges, or bosoming itself in deep rock-strewn cuts. Mary's little +pony cantered recklessly through it all, scampering along like a +playful dog after a stone, leading Bennington's larger animal by +several feet. He had full leisure to notice the regular flop of the Tam +o'Shanter over the lighter dance of the hair, the increasing rosiness +of the cheeks dimpled into almost continual laughter, to catch stray +snatches of gay little remarks thrown out at random as they tore along. +After a time they drew out from the shadow of the pines into the +clearing at Rockerville, where the hydraulic "giants" had eaten away +the hill-sides, and left in them ugly unhealed sores. Then more rough +pine-shadowed roads, from which occasionally would open for a moment +broad vistas of endless glades, clear as parks, breathless descents, or +sharp steep cuts at the bottom of which Spring Creek, or as much of it +as was not turned into the Rockerville sluices, brawled or idled along. +It was time for lunch, so they dismounted near a deep still pool and +ate. The ponies cropped the sparse grasses, or twisted on their backs, +all four legs in the air. Squirrels chattered and scolded overhead. +Some of the indigo-coloured jays of the lowlands shot in long level +flight between the trees. The girl and the boy helped each other, +hindered each other, playing here and there near the Question, but +swerving always deliciously just in time. + +After lunch, more riding through more pines. The road dipped strongly +once, then again; and then abruptly the forest ceased, and they found +themselves cantering over broad rolling meadows knee-high with grasses, +from which meadow larks rose in all directions like grasshoppers. Soon +after they passed the canvas "schooners" of some who had started the +evening before. Down the next long slope the ponies dropped cautiously +with bunched feet and tentative steps. Spring Creek was forded for the +last time, another steep grassy hill was surmounted, and they looked +abroad into Rapid Valley and over to the prairie beyond. + +Behind them the Hills lay, dark with the everlasting greenery of the +North--even, low, with only sun-browned Harney to raise its cliff-like +front above the rest of the range. As though by a common impulse they +reined in their horses and looked back. + +"I wonder just where the Rock is?" she mused. + +They tried to guess at its location. + +The treeless ridge on which they were now standing ran like a belt +outside the Hills. They journeyed along its summit until late in the +afternoon, and then all at once found the city of Rapid lying below +them at the mouth of a mighty cañon, like a toy village on fine velvet +brown. + +In the city they separated, Mary going to the McPhersons', Bennington +to the hotel. It was now near to sunset, so it was agreed that +Bennington was to come round the following morning to get her. At the +hotel Bennington spent an interesting evening viewing the pioneers with +their variety of costume, manners, and speech. He heard many good +stories, humorous and blood-curdling, and it was very late before he +finally got to bed. + +The immediate consequence was that he was equally late to breakfast. He +hurried through that meal and stepped out into the street, with the +intention of hastening to Dr. McPherson's for Mary, but this he found +to be impossible because of the overcrowded condition of the streets. +The sports of the day had already begun. From curb to curb the way was +jammed with a dense mass of men, women, and children, through whom he +had to worm his way. After ten feet of this, he heard his name called, +and looking up, caught sight of Mary herself, perched on a dry-goods +box, frantically waving a handkerchief in his direction. + +"You're a nice one!" she cried in mock reproach as he struggled toward +her. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flew red signals of enjoyment. + +Bennington explained. + +"I know. Well, it didn't matter, any way. I just captured this box. +Climb up. There's room. I've lost the doctor and Mrs. McPherson +already." + +Two mounted men, decorated with huge tin marshals' badges, rode slowly +along forcing the crowd back to the right and to the left. The first +horse race was on. Suddenly there was an eager scramble, a cloud of +dust, a swift impression of dim ghostlike figures. It was over. The +crowd flowed into the street again. + +The two pressed together, hand in hand, on the top of the dry-goods +box. They laughed at each other and everything. Something beautiful was +very near to them, for this was the Pioneer's Picnic, and both +remembered that the Pioneer's Picnic marked the limit of many things. + +"What's next? What's next?" she called excitedly to a tall young +cattleman. + +The cowboy looked up at her, and his face relaxed into a pleased smile. + +"Why, it's a drillin' match over in the next street, miss," he answered +politely. "You'd better run right along over and get a good place." He +glanced at de Laney, smiled again, and turned away, apparently to +follow his own advice. + +"Come on, we'll follow him," cried Mary, jumping down. + +"And abandon our box?" objected Bennington. But she was already in full +pursuit of the tall cowboy. + +The ring around the large boulder--dragged by mule team from the +hills--had just begun to form when they arrived, so they were enabled +to secure good places near the front rank, where they kneeled on their +handkerchiefs, and the crowd hemmed them in at the back. The drilling +match was to determine which pair of contestants could in a given +time, with sledge and drill, cut the deepest hole in a granite boulder. +To one who stood apart, the sight must have been picturesque in the +extreme. The white dust, stirred by restless feet, rose lazily across +the heated air. The sun shone down clear and hot with a certain +wide-eyed glare that is seen only in the rarefied atmosphere of the +West. Around the outer edge of the ring hovered a few anxious small +boys, agonized that they were missing part of the show. Stolidly +indifferent Indians, wrapped close in their blankets, smoked silently, +awaiting the next pony race, the riders of which were skylarking about +trying to pull each other from their horses' backs. + +When the last pair had finished, the judges measured the depths of the +holes drilled, and announced the victors. + +The crowd shouted and broke for the saloons. The latter had been plying +a brisk business, so that men were about ready to embrace in +brotherhood or in battle with equal alacrity. + +Suddenly it was the dinner hour. The crowd broke. Bennington and Mary +realized they had been wandering about hand in hand. They directed +their steps toward the McPhersons with the greatest propriety. It was a +glorious picnic. + +The house was gratefully cool and dark after the summer heat out of +doors. The little doctor sat in the darkest room and dissertated +cannily on the strange variety of subjects which a Scotchman can always +bring up on the most ordinary occasions. + +The doctor was not only a learned man, as was evidenced by his position +in the School of Mines and his wonderful collections, but was a scout +of long standing, a physician of merit, and an Indian authority of +acknowledged weight. Withal he was so modest that these things became +known only by implication or hearsay, never by direct evidence. Mrs. +McPherson was not Scotch at all, but plain comfortable American, +redolent of wholesome cleanliness and good temper, and beaming with +kindliness and round spectacles. Never was such a doctor; never was +such a Mrs. McPherson; never was such a dinner! And they brought in +after-dinner coffee in small cups. + +"Ah, ha! Mr. de Laney," laughed the doctor, who had been watching him +with quizzical eye. "We're pretty bad, but we aren't got quite to +savagery yet." + +Bennington hastened to disavow. + +"That's all right," the doctor reassured him; "that's all right. I +didn't wonder at ye in this country, but Mrs. McPherson and mysel' jest +take a wee trip occasionally to keep our wits bright. Isn't it so, Mrs. +Mac?" + +"It is that," said she with a doubtful inner thought as to the +propriety of offering cream. + +"And as for you," went on the doctor dissertatively, "I suppose ye're +getting to be somewhat of a miner yourself. I mind me we did a bit of +assay work for your people the other day--the Crazy Horse, wasn't it? A +good claim I should judge, from the sample, and so I wrote Davidson." + +"When was this?" asked the Easterner, puzzled. + +"The last week." + +"I didn't know he had had any assaying done." + +"O weel," said the doctor comfortably, "it may not have occurred to him +to report yet. It was rich." + +"Mrs. McPherson, let's talk about dresses," called Mary across the +table. "Here we've come down for a _holiday_ and they insist on talking +mining." + +And so the subject was dropped, but Bennington could not get it out of +his mind. Why should Mizzou have had the Crazy Horse assayed without +saying anything about it to him? Why had he not reported the result? +How did it happen that the doctor's assistants had found the ore rich +when the company's assayers East had proved it poor? Why should Mizzou +have it assayed at all, since he was no longer connected with the +company? But, above all, supposing he had done this with the intention +of keeping it secret from Bennington, what possible benefit or +advantage could the old man derive from such an action? + +He puzzled over this. It seemed to still the effervescence of his joy. +He realized suddenly that he had been very careless in a great many +respects. The work had all been trusted to Davidson, while he, often, +had never even seen it. He had been entirely occupied with the girl. He +experienced that sudden sinking feeling which always comes to a man +whom neglected duty wakes from pleasure. + +What was Davidson's object? Could it be that he hoped to "buy in" a +rich claim at a low figure, and to that end had sent poor samples East? +The more he thought of this the more reasonable it seemed. His +resignation was for the purpose of putting him in the position of +outside purchaser. + +He resolved to carry through the affair diplomatically. During the +afternoon he ruminated on how this was to be done. Mary could not +understand his preoccupation. It piqued her. A slight strangeness +sprang up between them which he was too _distrait_ to notice. Finally, +as he tumbled into bed that night, an idea so brilliant came to him +that he sat bolt upright in sheer delight at his own astuteness. + +He would ask Dr. McPherson for a copy of the assays. If his suspicions +were correct, these assays would represent the richest samples. He +would send them at once to Bishop with a statement of the case, in that +manner putting the capitalist on his guard. There was something +exquisitely humorous to him in the idea of thus turning to his own use +the information which Davidson had accumulated for his fraudulent +purposes. He went to sleep chuckling over it. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN + + +The next morning the young man had quite regained his good spirits. The +girl, on the other hand, was rather quiet. + +Dr. McPherson made no objections to furnishing a copy of the assays. +The records, however, were at the School of Mines. He drove down to get +them, and in the interim the two young people, at Mrs. McPherson's +suggestion, went to see the train come in. + +The platform of the station was filled to suffocation. Assuming that +the crowd's intention was to view the unaccustomed locomotive, it was +strange it did not occur to them that the opposite side of the track or +the adjacent prairie would afford more elbow room. They huddled +together on the boards of the platform as though the appearance of the +spectacle depended on every last individual's keeping his feet from the +naked earth. They pushed good-naturedly here and there, expostulating, +calling to one another facetiously, looking anxiously down the +straight, dwindling track for the first glimpse of the locomotive. + +Mary and Bennington found themselves caught up at once into the vortex. +After a few moments of desperate clinging together, they were forced +into the front row, where they stood on the very edge, braced back +against the pressure, half laughing, half vexed. + +The train drew in with a grinding rush. From the step swung the +conductor. Faces looked from the open windows. + +On the platform of one of the last cars stood a young girl and three +men. One of the men was elderly, with white hair and side whiskers. The +other two were young and well dressed. The girl was of our best +patrician type--the type that may know little, think little, say +little, and generally amount to little, and yet carry its negative +qualities with so used an air of polite society as to raise them by +sheer force to the dignity of positive virtues. From head to foot she +was faultlessly groomed. From eye to attitude she was languidly +superior--the impolitic would say bored. Yet every feature of her +appearance and bearing, even to the very tips of her enamelled and +sensibly thick boots, implied that she was of a different class from +the ordinary, and satisfied on "common people" that impulse which +attracts her lesser sisters to the vulgar menagerie. She belonged to +the proper street--at the proper time of day. Any one acquainted with +the species would have known at once that this private-car trip to +Deadwood was to please the prosperous-looking gentleman with the side +whiskers, and that it was made bearable only by the two smooth-shaven +individuals in the background. + +She caught sight of the pair directly in front of her, and raised her +lorgnette with a languid wrist. + +Her stare was from the outside-the-menagerie standpoint. Bennington was +not used to it. For the moment he had the Fifth Avenue feeling, and +knew that he was not properly dressed. Therefore, naturally, he was +confused. He lowered his head and blushed a little. Then he became +conscious that Mary's clear eyes were examining him in a very troubled +fashion. + +Three hours and a half afterward it suddenly occurred to him that she +might have thought he had blushed and lowered his head because he was +ashamed to be seen by this other girl in her company; but it was then +too late. + +The train pulled out. The Westerners at once scattered in all +directions. Half an hour later the choking cloud dusts rose like smoke +from the different trails that led north or south or west to the heart +of the Hills. + +"The picnic is over," he suggested gently at their noon camping place. + +"Yes, thank Heaven!" + +"You remember your promise?" + +"What promise?" + +"That you would explain your 'mystery.'" + +"I've changed my mind." + +A leaf floated slowly down the wind. A raven croaked. The breeze made +the sunbeams waver. + +"Mary, the picnic is over," he repeated again very gently. + +"Yes, yes, yes!" + +"I love you, Mary." + +The raven spread his wings and flew away. + +"Do you love me?" he insisted gently. + +"I want you to come to dinner at our house to-morrow noon." + +"That is a strange answer, Mary." + +"It is all the answer you'll get to-day." + +"Why are you so cross? Is anything the matter?" + +"Nothing." + +"I love you, Mary. I love you, girl. At least I can say that now." + +"Yes, you can say it--now." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A NOON DINNER + + +Bennington did not know what to make of his invitation. At one moment +he told himself it must mean that Mary loved him, and that she wished +him to meet her parents on that account. At the next he tormented +himself with the conviction that she thus merely avoided the issue. +Between these moods he alternated, without being able to abide in +either. He forgot all about Old Mizzou. + +Promptly at noon the following day he turned up the little right-hand +trail for the first time. + +The Lawton house he found, first of all, to be scrupulously neat. It +stood on a knoll, as do most gulch cabins, in order that occasional +freshets might pass below, and the knoll looked as though it had been +clipped with a pair of scissors. Not a crooked little juniper bush was +allowed to intrude its plebeian sprawl among the dignified pines and +the gracefully infrequent bushes. In front of the cabin itself was a +"rockery" of pink quartz, on which were piled elk antlers. The building +was L-shaped, of two low stories, had a veranda with a railing, and +possessed various ornamental wood edgings, all of which were painted. +The whole affair was mathematically squared and correspondingly neat. +Some boxes and pots of flowers adorned the window ledges. + +Bennington's knock was answered by an elderly woman, who introduced +herself at once as Mrs. Lawton. She commenced a voluble and slightly +embarrassed explanation of how "she" would be down in a moment or so, +at the same time leading the way into the parlour. While this +explanation was going forward, Bennington had a good chance to examine +his hostess and her surroundings. + +Mrs. Lawton was of the fat but energetic variety. She fairly shone with +cleanliness and with an insistent determination to keep busy. You could +see that all the time her tongue was uttering polite platitudes +concerning the weather, her mind was hovering like a dragon fly over +this or that flower of domestic economy. She was one of the women who +carry their housekeeping to a perfection uncomfortable both to herself +and everybody else, and then delude themselves into the martyrlike +belief that she is doing it all entirely for others. As a consequence, +she exhibited much of the time an aggrieved air that comported but +ludicrously with her tendency to bustle. And it must be confessed that +in other ways Mrs. Lawton was ludicrous. Her dumpy little form was +dressed in the loudest of prints, the figures of which turned her into +a huge flower bed of brilliant cabbage-like blooms. Over this chaos of +colours peered her round little face with its snapping eyes. She +discoursed in sentences which began coherently, but frayed out soon +into nothingness under the stress of inner thought. "I don't see where +that husban' of mine is. I reckon you'll think we're just awful rude, +Mr. de Laney, and that gal, an' Maude. I declare it's jest enough to +try any one's patience, it surely is. You've no idea, Mr. de Laney, +what with the hens settin', and this mis'able dry spell that sends th' +dust all over everything and every one 'way behin' hand on +everythin'----" Her eye was becoming vacant as she wondered about +certain biscuits. + +"I'm sure it must be," agreed Bennington uncomfortably. + +"What was I a-sayin'? You must excuse me, Mr. de Laney, but you, being +a man, can have no idea of the life us poor women folks lead, slavin' +our very lives away to keep things runnin', and then no thanks fer it +a'ter all. I'd just like t' see Bill Lawton try it _fer jest one week_. +He'd be a ravin' lunatic, an' thet I tell him often. This country's +jest awful, too. I tell him he must get out sometimes, and I 'spect he +will, when he's made his pile, poor man, an' then we'll have a chanst +to go back East again. When we lived East, Mr. de Laney, we had a +house--not like this little shack; a good house with nigh on to a dozen +rooms, and I had a gal to help me and some chanst to buy things once in +a while, but now that Bill Lawton's moved West, what's goin' to become +o' me I don't know. I'm nigh wore out with it all." + +"Then you lived East once?" asked Bennington. + +"Law, yes! We lived in Illinoy once, and th' Lord only knows I wisht we +lived there yet, though the farmin' was a sight of work and no pay +sometimes." The inner doubts as to the biscuits proved too much for +her. "Heaven knows, you ain't t' git much to eat," she cried, jumping +up, "but you ain't goin' to git anythin' a tall if I don't run right +off and tend to them biscuit." + +She bustled out. Bennington had time then to notice the decorations of +the "parlour." They offered to the eye a strange mixture of the East +and West--reminiscences of the old home in "Illinoy" and trophies of +the new camping-out on the frontier. From the ceiling hung a heavy lamp +with prismatic danglers, surrounded by a globe on which were depicted +stags in the act of leaping six-barred gates. By way of complement to +this gorgeous centrepiece, the paper on the walls showed, in infinitely +recurring duplicate, a huntress in green habit and big hat carrying on +a desperate flirtation with a young man in the habiliments of the +fifteenth century, while across the background a huddle of dogs pursued +a mammoth deer. Mathematically beneath the lamp stood a table covered +with a red-figured spread. On the table was a glass bell, underneath +which were wax flowers and a poorly-stuffed robin. In one angle of the +room austerely huddled a three-cornered "whatnot" of four shelves. Two +china pugs and a statuette of a simpering pair of children under a +massive umbrella adorned this article of furniture. On the wall ticked +an old-fashioned square wooden clock. The floor was concealed by a rag +carpet. So much for the East. The West contributed brilliant green +copper ore, flaky white tin ore, glittering white quartz ore, shining +pyrites, and one or two businesslike specimens of oxygenated quartz, +all of which occupied points of exhibit on the "whatnot." Over the +carpet were spread a deer skin, and a rug made from the hide of a +timber wolf. Bennington found all this interesting but depressing. He +was glad when Mrs. Lawton returned and took up her voluble discourse. + +In the midst of a dissertation on the relation of corn meal to eggs +the door opened, and Mr. Lawton sidled in. + +"Oh, here y' are at last!" observed his spouse scornfully, and rattled +on. Lawton nodded awkwardly, and perched himself on the edge of a +chair. He had assumed an ill-fitting suit of store clothes, in which he +unaccustomedly writhed, and evidently, to judge from the sleekness of +his hair, had recently plunged his head in a pail of water. He said +nothing, but whenever Mrs. Lawton was not looking he winked elaborately +and solemnly at Bennington as though to imply that circumstances alone +prevented any more open show of cordiality. At last, catching the young +man's eye at a more than usually propitious moment, he went through the +pantomime of opening a bottle, then furtively arose and disappeared. +Mrs. Lawton, remembering her cakes, ran out. Bennington was left alone +again. He had not spoken six words. + +The door slowly opened, and another member of the family sidled in. +Bennington owned a helpless feeling that this was a sort of show, and +that these various actors in it were parading their entrances and +their exits before him. Or that he himself were the object of +inspection on whom the others were satisfying their own curiosity. + +The newcomer was a child, a little girl about eight or ten years old. +Bennington liked children as a usual thing. No one on earth could have +become possessed in this one's favour. She was a creature of regular +but mean features, extreme gravity, and evidently of an inquiring +disposition. On seeing her for the first time, one sophisticated would +have expected a deluge of questions. Bennington did. But she merely +stood and stared without winking. + +"Hullo, little girl!" Bennington greeted her uneasily. + +The creature only stared the harder. + +"My doll's name is Garnet M-a-ay," she observed suddenly, with a +long-drawn nasal accent. + +After this interesting bit of information another silence fell. + +"What is your name, little girl?" Bennington asked desperately at +last. + +"Maude," remarked the phenomenon briefly. + +This statement she delivered in that whining tone which the extremely +self-conscious infant imagines to indicate playful childishness. She +approached. + +"D' you want t' see my picters?" she whimpered confidingly. + +Bennington expressed his delight. + +For seven geological ages did he gaze upon cheap and horrible woodcuts +of gentlemen in fashionable raiment trying to lean against +conspicuously inadequate rustic gates; equally fashionable ladies, with +flat chests, and rat's nest hair; and animals whose attitudes denoted +playful sportiveness of disposition. Each of these pictures was +explained in minute detail. Bennington's distress became apathy. Mrs. +Lawton returned from the cakes presently, yet her voice seemed to break +in on the duration of centuries. + +"Now, Maude!" she exclaimed, with a proper maternal pride, "you mustn't +be botherin' the gentleman." She paused to receive the expected +disclaimer. It was made, albeit a little weakly. "Maude is very good +with her Book," she explained. "Miss Brown, that's the school teacher +that comes over from Hill Town summers, she says Maude reads a sight +better than lots as is two or three years older. Now how old would you +think she was, Mr. de Laney?" + +Mr. de Laney tried to appraise, while the object hung her head +self-consciously and twisted her feet. He had no idea of children's +ages. + +"About eleven," he guessed, with an air of wisdom. + +"Jest eight an' a half!" cried the dame, folding her hands +triumphantly. She let her fond maternal gaze rest on the prodigy. +Suddenly she darted forward with extraordinary agility for one so well +endowed with flesh, and seized her offspring in relentless grasp. + +"I do declare, Maude Eliza!" she exclaimed in horror-stricken tones, +"you ain't washed your ears! You come with me!" + +They disappeared in a blue mist of wails. + +As though this were his cue, the crafty features of Lawton appeared +cautiously in the doorway, bestowed a furtive and searching inspection +on the room, and finally winked solemnly at its only occupant. A hand +was inserted. The forefinger beckoned. Bennington arose wearily and +went out. + +Lawton led the way to a little oat shed standing at some distance from +the house. Behind this he paused. From beneath his coat he drew a round +bottle and two glass tumblers. + +"No joke skippin' th' ole lady," he chuckled in an undertone. He poured +out a liberal portion for himself, and passed the bottle along. +Bennington was unwilling to hurt the old fellow's feelings after he had +taken so much trouble on his account, but he was equally unwilling to +drink the whisky. So he threw it away when Lawton was not looking. + +They walked leisurely toward the house, Lawton explaining various +improvements in a loud tone of voice, intended more to lull his wife's +suspicions than to edify the young man. The lady looked on them +sternly, and announced dinner. At the table Bennington found Mary +already seated. + +The Easterner was placed next to Mrs. Lawton. At his other hand was +Maude Eliza. Mary sat opposite. Throughout the meal she said little, +and only looked up from her plate when Bennington's attention was +called another way. + +Her mere presence, however, seemed to open to the young man a different +point of view. He found Mrs. Lawton's lengthy dissertations amusing; he +considered Mr. Lawton in the light of a unique character, and Maude +Eliza, while as disagreeable as ever, came in for various excuses and +explanations on her own behalf in the young man's mind. He became more +responsive. He told a number of very good stories, at which the others +laughed. He detailed some experiences of his own at places in the world +far remote, selected, it must be confessed, with some slight reference +to their dazzling effect on the company. Without actually "showing +off," he managed to get the effect of it. The result of his efforts was +to harmonize to some extent these diverse elements. Mrs. Lawton became +more coherent, Mr. Lawton more communicative; Maude Eliza stopped +whining--occasionally and temporarily. Bennington had rarely been in +such high spirits. He was surprised himself, but then was not that day +of moment to him, and would he not have been a strange sort of +individual to have seen in the world aught but brightness? + +But Mary responded not at all. Rather, as Bennington arose, she fell, +until at last she hardly even moved in her place. + +"Chirk up, chirk up!" cried Mrs. Lawton gaily, for her. "I know some +one who ought to be happy, anyhow." She glanced meaningly from one to +the other and laughed heartily. + +Bennington felt a momentary disgust at her tactlessness, but covered it +with some laughing sally of his own. The meal broke up in great good +humour. Mrs. Lawton and Maude Eliza remained to clear away the dishes. +Mr. Lawton remarked that he must get back to work, and shook hands in +farewell most elaborately. Bennington laughingly promised them all that +he would surely come again. Then he escaped, and followed Mary up the +hill, surmising truly enough that she had gone on toward the Rock. He +thought he caught a glimpse of her through the elders. He hastened his +footsteps. At this he stumbled slightly. From his pocket fell a letter +he had received that morning. He picked it up and looked at it idly. + +It was from his mother and covered a number of closely-written pages. +As he was about to thrust it back into his pocket a single sentence +caught his eye. It read: "Sally Ogletree gave a supper last week, which +was a very pretty affair." + +He stopped short on the trail, and the world seemed to go black around +him. He almost fell. Then resumed his way, but step now was hesitating +and slow, and he walked with his eyes bent thoughtfully on the ground. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +NOBLESSE OBLIGE + + +The thought which caused Bennington de Lane so suddenly look grave was +suggested by the sentence in his mother's letter. For the first time he +realized that these people, up to now so amusing, were possibly +destined to come into intimate relations with himself. Old Bill Lawton +was Mary's father; while Mrs. Lawton was Mary's mother; Maude was +Mary's sister. + +The next instant a great rush of love into his heart drove this feeling +from it. What matter anything, provided she loved him and he loved her? +Generous sentiment so filled him that there was room for nothing else. +He even experienced dimly in the depths of his consciousness, a faint +pale joy that in thus accepting what was disagreeable to his finer +sensibilities, he was proving more truly to his own self the +boundlessness of his love. For the moment he was exalted by this +instant revulsion against anything calculating in his passion. And +then slowly, one by one, the objections stole back, like a flock of +noisome sombre creatures put to flight by a sudden movement, but now +returning to their old nesting places. The very unassuming method of +their recurrence lent them an added influence. Almost before Bennington +knew it they had established a case, and he found himself face to face +with a very ugly problem. + +Perhaps it will be a little difficult for the average and democratic +reader to realize fully the terrible proportions of this problem. We +whose lives assume little, require little of them. Intangible +objections to the desires of our hearts do not count for much against +their realization; there needs the rough attrition of reality to turn +back our calm, complacent acquisition of that which we see to be for +our best interest in the emotional world. Claims of ancestry mean +nothing. Claims of society mean not much more. Claims of wealth are +considered as evanescent among a class of men who, by their efforts and +genius, are able to render absolute wealth itself an evanescent +quality. When one of us loves, he questions the worth of the object of +his passion. That established, nothing else is of great importance. +There is a grand and noble quality in this, but it misses much. About +the other state of affairs--wherein the woman's appurtenances of all +kinds, as well as the woman herself, are significant--is a delicate and +subtle aura of the higher refinement--the long refinement of the spirit +through many generations--which, to an eye accustomed to look for +gradations of moral beauty, possesses a peach-blow iridescence of its +own. From one point of view, the old-fashioned forms of thought and +courtesy are stilted and useless. From another they retain still the +lofty dignity of _noblesse oblige_. + +So we would have none set down Bennington de Laney as a prig or a snob +because he did not at once decide for his heart as against his +aristocratic instincts. Not only all his early education, but the life +lessons of many generations of ancestors had taught him to set a +fictitious value on social position. He was a de Laney on both sides. +He had never been allowed to forget it. A long line of forefathers, +proud-eyed in their gilded frames, mutely gazed their sense of the +obligations they had bequeathed to this last representative of their +race. When one belongs to a great family he can not live entirely for +himself. His disgrace or failure reflects not alone on his own +reputation, but it sullies the fair fame of men long dead and buried; +and this is a dreadful thing. For all these old Puritans and Cavaliers, +these knights and barons, these king's councillors and scholars, have +perchance lived out the long years of their lives with all good intent +and purpose and with all earnestness of execution, merely that they +might build and send down to posterity this same fair fame. It is a +bold man, or a wicked man, who will dare lightly to bring the efforts +of so many lives to naught! In the thought of these centuries of +endeavour, the sacrifice of mere personal happiness does not seem so +great an affair after all. The Family Name has taken to itself a soul. +It is a living thing. It may be worked for, it may be nourished by +affection, it may even be worshipped. Men may give their lives to it +with as great a devotion, with as exalted a sense of renunciation, and +as lofty a joy in that renunciation, as those who vow allegiance to St. +Francis or St. Dominic. The tearing of the heart from the bosom often +proves to be a mortal hurt when there is nothing to put in the gap of +its emptiness. Not so when a tradition like this may partly take its +place. + +These, and more subtle considerations, were the noblest elements of +Bennington de Laney's doubts. But perhaps they were no more potent than +some others which rushed through the breach made for them in the young +man's decision. + +He had always lived so much at home that he had come to accept the home +point of view without question. That is to say, he never examined the +value of his parent's ideas, because it never occurred to him to doubt +them. He had no perspective. + +In a way, then, he accepted as axioms the social tenets held by his +mother, or the business methods practised by his father. He believed +that elderly men should speak precisely, and in grammatical, but +colourless English. He believed also that people should, in society, +conduct themselves according to the fashion-plate pattern designed by +Mrs. de Laney. He believed these things, not because he was a fool, or +shallow, or lacking in humour, or snobbish, but because nothing had +ever happened to cause him to examine his beliefs closely, that he +might appreciate what they really were. One of these views was, that +cultured people were of a class in themselves, and could not and should +not mix with other classes. Mrs. de Laney entertained a horror of +vulgarity. So deep-rooted was this horror that a remote taint of it was +sufficient to thrust forever outside the pale of her approbation any +unfortunate who exhibited it. She preferred stupidity to common sense, +when the former was allied with good form, and the latter only with +plain kindliness. This was partly instinct and partly the result of +cultivation. She would shrink, with uncontrollable disgust, from any of +the lower classes with whom she came unavoidably in contact. A slight +breach of the conventions earned her distrust of one of her own caste. +As this personal idiosyncrasy fell in line with the de Laney pride, it +was approved by the head of the family. Under encouragement it became +almost a monomania. + +Bennington pictured to himself only too vividly the effect of the +Lawtons on this lady's aristocratic prejudices. He knew, only too well, +that Bill Lawton's table manners would not be allowed even in her +kitchen. He could imagine Mrs. Lawton's fatuous conversation in the de +Laney's drawing-room, or Maude Eliza's dressed-up self-consciousness. +The experience of having the three Westerners to dinner just once +would, Bennington knew, drive his lady mother to the verge of nervous +prostration--he remembered his father's one and only experience in +bringing business connections home to lunch--; his imagination failed +to picture the effect of her having to endure them as actual members of +the family! As if this were not bad enough, his restless fancy carried +him a step farther. He perceived the agonies of shame and +mortification, real even though they were conventional, she would have +to endure in the face of society. That the de Laneys, social leaders, +rigid in respectability, should be forced to the humiliation of +acknowledging a misalliance, should be forced to the added humiliation +of confessing that this marriage was not only with a family of inferior +social standing, but with one actually unlettered and vulgar! +Bennington knew only too well the temper of his mother--and of society. + +It would not be difficult to expand these doubts, to amplify these +reasons, and even to adduce others which occurred to the unhappy young +man as he climbed the hill. But enough has been said. Surely the +reader, no matter how removed in sympathy from that line of argument, +must be able now at least to sympathize, to perceive that Bennington de +Laney had some reason for thought, some excuse for the tardiness of his +steps as they carried him to a meeting with the girl he loved. + +For he did love her, perhaps the more tenderly that doubts must, +perforce, arise. All these considerations affected not at all his +thought of her. But now, for the first time, Bennington de Laney was +weighing the relative claims of duty and happiness. His happiness +depended upon his love. That his duty to his race, his parents, his +caste had some reality in fact, and a very solid reality in his own +estimation, the author hopes he has shown. If not, several pages have +been written in vain. + +The conflict in his mind had carried him to the Rock. Here, as he +expected, he found Mary already arrived. He ascended to the little +plateau and dropped wearily to the moss. His face had gone very white +in the last quarter of an hour. + +"You see now why I asked you to come to-day," she said without +preliminary. "Now you have seen them, and there is nothing more to +conceal." + +"I know, I know," he replied dully. "I am trying to think it out. I +can't see it yet." + +They took entirely for granted that each knew the subject of the +other's thoughts. The girl seemed much the more self-possessed of the +two. + +"We may as well understand each other," she said quietly, without +emotion. "You have told me a certain thing, and have asked me for a +certain answer. I could not give it to you before without deceiving +you. Now the answer depends on you. I have deceived you in a way," she +went on more earnestly, "but I did not mean to. I did not realize the +difference, truly I didn't, until I saw the girl on the train. Then I +knew the difference between her and me, and between her's and mine. And +when you turned away, I saw that you were her kind, and I saw, too, +that you ought to know everything there was about me. Then you spoke." + +"I meant what I said, too," he interrupted. "You must believe that, +Mary, whatever comes." + +"I was sorry you did," she went on, as though she had not heard him. +Then with just a touch of impatience tingeing the even calm of her +voice, "Oh, why will men insist on saying those things!" she cried. +"The way to win a girl is not thus. He should see her often, without +speaking of love, being everything to her, until at last she finds she +can not live without him." + +"Have I been that to you, Mary? Has it come to that with me?" he asked +wistfully. + +"Heaven help me, I am afraid it has!" she cried, burying her face in +her hands. + +A great gladness leaped up into his face, and died as the blaze of a +fire leaps up and expires. + +"That makes it easier--and harder," he said. "It is bad enough as it +is. I don't know how I can make you understand, dear." + +"I understand more than you think," she replied, becoming calm again, +and letting her hands fall into her lap. "I am going to speak quite +plainly. You love me, Ben--ah, don't I know it!" she cried, with a +sudden burst of passion. "I have seen it in your eyes these many days. +I have heard it in your voice. I have felt it welling out from your +great heart. It has been sweet to me--so sweet! You can not know, no +man ever could know, how that love of yours has filled my soul and my +heart until there was room for nothing else in the whole wide world!" + +"You love me!" he said wonderingly. + +"If I had not known that, do you think I would have endured a moment's +hesitation after you had seen the objectionable features of my life? Do +you think that if I had the slightest doubts of your love, I could now +understand _why_ you hesitate? But I do, and I honour you for it." + +"You love me!" he repeated. + +"Yes, yes, Ben dear, I _do_ love you. I love you as I never thought +to be permitted to love. Do you want to know what I did that second day +on the Rock--the day you first showed me what you really were? The day +you told me of your old home and the great tree? It was all so +peaceful, and tender, and comforting, so sweet and pure, that it rested +me. I felt, here is a man at last who could not misunderstand me, could +not be abrupt, and harsh, and cruel. I said to myself, 'He is not +perfect nor does he expect perfection.' I shut my eyes, and then +something choked me, and the tears came. I cried out loud, 'Oh, to be +what I was, to give again what I have not! O God, give me back my heart +as it once was, and let me love!' Yes, Ben dear, I said 'love.' And +then I was not happy any more all day. But God answered that prayer, +Ben dear, and we do love one another now, and that is why we can look +at things together, and see what is best for us both." + +"You love me!" he exclaimed for the third time. + +"And now, dear, we must talk plainly and calmly. You have seen what my +family is." + +"I don't know, Mary, that I can make you understand at all," began +Bennington helplessly. "I can't express it even to myself. Our people +are so different. My training has been so different. All this sort of +thing means so much to us, and so little to you." + +"I know exactly," she interrupted. "I have read, and I have lived East. +I can appreciate just how it is. See if I can not read your thoughts. +My family is uneducated. If it becomes your family, your own parents +will be more than grieved, and your friends will have little to do with +you. You have also duties toward your family, _as_ a family. Is that +it?" + +"Yes, that _is_ it," answered he, "but there are so many things it does +not say. It seems to me it has come to be a horrible dilemma with me. +If I do what I am afraid is my duty to my family and my people, I will +be unhappy without you forever. And if I follow my heart, then it seems +to me I will wrong myself, and will be unhappy that way. It seems a +choice of just in what manner I will be miserable!" he ended with a +ghastly laugh. + +"And which is the most worth while?" she asked in a still voice. + +"I don't know, I don't know!" he cried miserably. "I must think." + +He looked out straight ahead of him for some time. "Whichever way I +decide," he said after a little, "I want you to know this, Mary: I love +you, and I always will love you, and the fact that I choose my duty, if +I do, is only that if I did not, I would not consider myself worthy +even to look at you." A silence fell on them again. + +"I can not live West," said he again, as though he had been arguing +this point in his mind and had just reached the conclusion of it. "My +life is East; I never knew it until now." He hesitated. "Would +you--that is, could you--I mean, would your family have to live East +too?" + +She caught his meaning and drew herself up, with a little pride in the +movement. + +"Wherever I go, whatever I do, my people must be free to go or do. You +have your duty to your family. I have my duty to mine!" + +He bowed his head quietly in assent. She looked at the struggle +depicted in the lines of his face with eyes in which, strangely enough, +was much pity, but no unhappiness or doubt. Could it be that she was so +sure of the result? + +At last he raised his head slowly and turned to her with an air of +decision. + +"Mary----" he began. + +At that moment there became audible a sudden rattle of stones below the +Rock, and at the same instant a harsh voice broke in rudely upon their +conversation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE CLAIM JUMPERS + + +Bennington instinctively put his finger on his lips to enjoin silence, +and peered cautiously over the edge of the dike. Perhaps he was glad +that this diversion had occurred to postpone even for a short time the +announcement of a decision it had cost him so much to make. Perhaps he +recognised the voice. + +Three men were clambering a trifle laboriously over the broken rocks at +the foot of the dike, swearing a little at their unstable footing, but +all apparently much in earnest in their conversation. Even as +Bennington looked they came to a halt, and then sank down each on a +convenient rock, talking interestedly. One was Old Mizzou, one was the +man Arthur, the third was a stranger whom Bennington had never seen. + +The latter had hardly the air of the country. + +He was a dapper little man dressed in a dark gray bob-tailed cutaway, +and a brown derby hat, which was pushed far back on his head. His face, +however, was keen and alert and brown, all of which characteristics +indicated an active Western life at no very remote day. The words which +had so powerfully arrested Bennington de Laney's attention were +delivered by Old Mizzou to this stranger. + +"Thar!" the old man had said, "ain't that Crazy Hoss Lode 'bout as +good-lookin' a lead as they make 'em?" + +"So, so; so, so;" replied the man in the derby in a high voice. "Your +vein is a fissure vein all right enough, and you've got a good wide +lead. If it holds up in quality, I don't know but what you're right." + +"I shows you them assays of McPherson's, don't I?" argued Mizzou, "an' +any quartz in this kentry that assays twenty-four dollars ain't no ways +cheap." + +This speech was so significantly in line with Bennington's surmise that +he caught his breath and drew back cautiously out of sight, but still +in such a position that he could hear plainly every word uttered by the +group below. The girl was watching him with bright, interested eyes. + +"Listen carefully!" he whispered, bringing his mouth close to her ear. +"I think there's some sort of plot here." + +She nodded ready comprehension, and they settled themselves to hear the +following conversation: + +"I saw the assay," replied the stranger's voice to Mizzou's last +statement, "but who's this McPherson? How do I know the assays are all +right?" + +"Why, he's that thar professer at th' School of Mines," expostulated +Mizzou. + +"Oh, yes!" cried the stranger, as though suddenly enlightened. "If +those are his assays, they're all right. Let's see them again." + +There followed a rustling of papers. + +"Well, I've looked over your layout," went on the stranger after a +moment, "and pretty thoroughly in the last few days. I know what you've +got here. Now what's your proposition?" + +There was a pause. + +"I knows you a good while, Slayton----" began Mizzou, but was +interrupted almost immediately by a third voice, that of Arthur. "The +point is this," said the latter sharply, "Davidson here is in a +position to give you possession of this group o' claims, but he ain't +in a position to appear in th' transaction. How are you goin' to +purtect him an' me so we gets something out of it?" + +"Wait a minute," put in the stranger, "I want to ask a few questions +myself. These claims belong to the Holy Smoke Company now, don't they?" + +"Well, that's the idea." + +"Are either of you the agent of that Company?" + +"Not directly, perhaps." + +"Are you indirectly?" + +"Seems to me you haven't got any call t' look into that, if we +guarantee t' give you good title." + +"How do I know you can give me good title?" + +"Ain't I tellin' you so?" + +"Yes, but why should I believe you?" + +"You shouldn't, unless you've got sense enough to see that we ain't +gettin' you 'way up here, an' we ain't living round these parts a +couple of years on a busted proposition." + +The stranger evidently debated this. + +"How would it be if you took equal shares with me on the claims, your +shares to be paid from the earnings? That would be fair all round. You +would get nothing unless the title was good. I would risk no more than +you did," he suggested. + +"Isn't I tellin' yo' I don't appear a tall in this yere transaction?" +objected Mizzou. + +The stranger laughed a little. + +"I can see through a millstone," he said. "Why don't you old +turtlebacks come out of your shells and play square? You've got some +shady game on here that you're working underhand. Spin your yarn and +I'll tell you what I think of it." + +"How do I know you don't leave us out a'ter we tells you," objected +Mizzou, returning to his original idea. + +"You don't!" answered the stranger impatiently, "you don't! But it +seems to me if you expect to get anything out of a shady transaction, +you've got to risk something." + +"That's right," put in Arthur, "that's right! 'Nuff said! Now, Slayton, +we'll agree to git you full legal control of these yere claims if +you'll develop them at your expense, an' gin Davidson and me a third +interest between us fer our influence. That's our proposition, an' that +goes. If you don't play squar', I knows how t' make ye." + +"Spin your yarn," repeated the stranger quietly. "I'll agree to give +you and Davidson a third interest, _provided_ I take hold of the thing +at all." + +"An' Jack Slayton," put in Mizzou threateningly, "if you don't play us +squar', I swar I'll shoot ye like a dog!" + +"Oh, stow that, Davidson," rejoined the stranger in an irritated voice; +"that rot don't do any good. I know you, and you know me. I never went +back on a game yet, and you know it." + +"I does know it, Jack!" came up Davidson's voice repentantly, "but this +is a big deal, an' y' can't be too careful!" + +"All right, all right," the stranger responded "Now tell us your +scheme. How can you get hold of the property?" + +"By jumping the claims," replied Arthur calmly. There ensued a short +pause. Then: + +"Don't be a fool," exclaimed Slayton with contempt; "this is no hold-up +country. You can't drive a man off his property with a gun." + +"I knows that. These claims can be 'jumped' quiet and legal." + +"How?" + +"They ain't be'n a stroke of assessment work done on 'em since we came. +Th' Company's title's gone long ago. They lost their job last January. +Them claims is open to any one who cares to have 'em." + +The stranger uttered a long whistle. Old Mizzou chuckled cunningly. "I +has charge of them claims from th' time they quits work on 'em 'till +now. They ain't be'n a pick raised on 'em. Anybody could a-jumped 'em +any time since las' January." + +"But how about the Company?" asked Slayton. "How did you fool them?" + +"Oh, I sends 'em bills fer work reg'lar enough! And I didn't throw +away th' money neither!" + +"Yes, that'd be easy enough. But how about the people around here? Why +haven't they jumped the claims long ago?" + +"Wall, I argues about this a-way. These yere gents sees I has charge, +an' they says to themselves, 'Ole Davidson takes care of them +assessment works all right,' an' so they never thinks it's worth while +t' see whether it is done or not." + +"You trusted to their thinking you were performing your duties?" + +"Thet's it." + +"Well, it was a pretty big risk!" + +"Ev'rything t' gain an' nothin' t' lose," quoted Old Mizzou +comfortably. + +"How about this new man the Company has out here--de Laney? Is he in +this deal too?" + +"Oh, him!" said Davidson with vast contempt. "He don' know enough t' +dodge a brick! I tells him th' assessment work is all done. He believes +it, an' never looks t' see. I gets him fooled so easy it's shore +funny." + +"Hold on!" put in Slayton sharply. "I'm not so sure you aren't liable +there somewhere. Of course your failure to do the assessment work while +you were alone here was negligence, but that is all. The Company could +fire you for failing to do your duty, but they couldn't prove any fraud +against you. But when this de Laney came along it changed things." + +"How is that?" + +"Well, you told him the assessment work had been done, in so many +words, didn't you? The Company can prove that you were using your +official information to deceive him for the purposes of fraud. In other +words, you were an officer of the Company, and you deceived another +officer in your official capacity. I don't know but you'd be liable to +a criminal action." + +"Not on your tin-type," said Old Mizzou with confidence. + +"Have you looked it up?" + +"I does better than that. At that point I shore becomes subtle. _I +resigns from th' Company!_ A'ter that I talks assessment work. I tells +him advice, jest as a friend. If he believes th' same, an' it ain't so, +why thet's unfort'nit, but they can't do anythin' t' me. I'm jest an +outsider. He is responsible to th' Company, an' if he wants +information, he ought to go to th' books, and not to frien's who may +deceive him." + +"Davidson, you're a genius!" exclaimed the stranger heartily. + +"I tells you I becomes subtle," acknowledged the old man with just +pride. "But now you sees it ain't delikit that my name appears in th' +case a tall. Folks is so suspicious these yere days, that if I has a +share, and Arthur yere has a share, they says p'rhaps we has this yere +scheme in view right along. But if Slayton gets them lapsed claims by +hisself, Slayton bein' a stranger, they thinks how fortinit that +Slayton is t' git onto it, and they puts pore Ole Mizzou down as +becomin' fergitful in his old age." + +The stranger laughed. + +"It's easy," he remarked. "We get them for nothing, and you can bet +your sweet life I'll push 'em through for all there is in it. Why, +boys, you're rich! You won't have anything more to do the rest of your +mortal days, unless you want to." + +"I ain't seekin' no manual employment," observed Mizzou. + +"I'm willin' to quit work," agreed Arthur. + +"Well, you'll have a chance. Now we better hustle this thing through +lively. We've got to make our discoveries on the quiet so no one will +get on to us." + +"It ain't goin' t' take us long t' tack up them notices, now 't we've +agreed. We kin do th' most on it this evenin'. Jest lay low, that's +all." + +"Ain't de Laney going to get onto us sasshaying off with a lot of +notices?" + +"If he does," remarked Old Mizzou grimly, "I knows a dark hole whar we +retires that young man for th' day! If it comes t' that, though, you +got t' tend to it, Slayton. I ain't showin' in this deal y' know." + +The stranger laughed unpleasantly. + +"You show me the hole and I'll take care of Mr. man," he agreed. He +laughed again. "By the way, it strikes me that fellow's going to run up +against a good deal of tribulation before he gets through." + +"Wall, thet thar Comp'ny ain't goin' to raise his pay when they finds +it out," agreed Mizzou. "Thet Bishop, he gets tolerable anxious 'bout +them assessment works now, and writes frequent. I got a whole bunch of +his letters up t' camp that I keeps for th' good of his health. Ain't +no wise healthy t' worry 'bout business, you know." + +"Wonder th' little idiot didn't miss his mail," growled Arthur. + +"Oh, I coaxes him on with th' letters from his mammy and pappy. They's +harmless enough." + +The three men fell into a discussion of various specimens of quartz +which they took from their pockets, and, after what seemed to be an +interminable time, arose and moved slowly down the hill. + +The girl looked at her companion with wide-open eyes. "Ben!" she +gasped, "what have you done?" + +"Made a fool of myself," he responded curtly. + +"What are you going to do about it?" + +"I don't know." + +He knit his brows deeply. She cast about for an expedient. + +"I wish I knew more about mining!" she cried. "I know there is some way +to get legal possession of a claim by patenting it, but I don't know +how you do it." + +He did not reply. + +"There must be some way out of this," she went on, all alert. "They +haven't done anything yet. Why don't you go down to camp and inquire?" + +"Every man would be in the hills in less than an hour. I couldn't trust +them," he replied brusquely. + +"Oh, I know!" she cried with relief. "You must hunt up Jim. He knows +all about those things, and you could rely on him." + +"Jim? What Jim?" + +"Jim Fay. Oh, that's just it! Run, Ben; go at once; don't wait a +minute!" + +"I want nothing whatever to do with that man," he said deliberately. +"He has insulted me at every opportunity. He has treated me in a manner +that was even more than insulting every time we have met. If I were +dying, and he had but to turn his head toward me to save me, I would +not ask him to do so!" + +"Oh, don't be foolish, Ben!" cried she, wringing her hands in despair. +"Don't let your pride stand in your way! Do you not realize the +disgrace this will be to you--to lose all these rich claims just by +carelessness? Do you realize that it means something to me, for I have +been the reason of that carelessness. I know it! Just this once, forget +all he has done to you. You can trust him. Don't be afraid of that. +Tell him that I sent you, if you don't want to trust him on your own +account----" she broke off. "Where are you going?" she asked anxiously. + +"To do something," he answered, shutting his teeth together with a +snap. + +"Will you see Jim?" she begged, following him to the edge of the Rock +as he swung himself down the tree. + +"No!" he said, without looking back. + +After he disappeared--in the direction of the Holy Smoke camp, as she +noticed--she descended rapidly to the ground and hurried, sobbing +excitedly, away toward Spanish Gulch. She was all alive with distress. +She had never realized until the moment of his failure how much she had +loved this man. Near the village she paused, bathed her eyes in the +brook, and, assuming an air of deliberation and calmness, began making +inquiries as to the whereabouts of Jim Fay. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +BENNINGTON PROVES GAME + + +Bennington de Laney sat on the pile of rocks at the entrance to the +Holy Smoke shaft. Across his knees lay the thirty-calibre rifle. His +face was very white and set. Perhaps he was thinking of his return to +New York in disgrace, of his interview with Bishop, of his inevitable +meeting with a multitude of friends, who would read in the daily papers +the accounts of his incompetence--criminal incompetence, they would +call it. The shadows were beginning to lengthen across the slope of the +hill. Up the gulch cow bells tinkled, up the hill birds sang, and +through the little hollows twilight flowed like a vapour. The wild +roses on the hillside were blooming--late in this high altitude. The +pines were singing their endless song. But Bennington de Laney was +looking upon none of these softer beauties of the Hills. Rather he +watched intently the lower gulch with its flood-wracked, water-twisted +skeleton laid bare. Could it be that in the destruction there figured +forth he caught the symbol of his own condition? That the dreary gloom +of that ruin typified the chaos of sombre thoughts that occupied his +own remorseful mind? If so, the fancy must have absorbed him. The +moments slipped by one by one, the shadows grew longer, the bird songs +louder, and still the figure with the rifle sat motionless, his face +white and still, watching the lower gulch. + +Or could it be that Bennington de Laney waited for some one, and that +therefore his gaze was so fixed? It would seem so. For when the beat of +hoofs became audible, the white face quickened into alertness, and the +motionless figure stirred somewhat. + +The rider came in sight, rising and falling in a steady, unhesitating +lope. He swung rapidly to the left, and ascended the knoll. Opposite +the shaft of the Holy Smoke lode he reined in his bronco and +dismounted. The rider was Jim Fay. + +Bennington de Laney did not move. He looked up at the newcomer with +dull resignation. "He takes it hard, poor fellow!" thought Fay. + +"Well, what's to be done?" asked the Easterner in a strained voice. "I +suppose you know all about it, or you wouldn't be here." + +"Yes, I know all about it," said Fay gently. "You mustn't take it so +hard. Perhaps we can do something. We'll be able to save one or two +claims, any way, if we're quick about it." + +"I've heard something about patenting claims," went on de Laney in the +same strange, dull tones; "could that be done?" + +"No. You have to do five hundred dollars' worth of work, and advertise +for sixty days. There isn't time." + +"That settles it. I don't know what we can do then." + +"Well, that depends. I've come to help do something. We've got to get +an everlasting hustle on us, that's all; and I'm afraid we are +beginning a little behindhand in the race. You ought to have hunted me +up at once." + +"I don't see what there is to do," repeated Bennington thickly. + +"Don't you? The assessment work hasn't been done--that's the idea, +isn't it?--and so the claims have reverted to the Government. They are +therefore open to location, as in the beginning, and that is just what +Davidson and that crowd are going to do to them. Well, they're just as +much open to us. We'll just _jump our own claims!_" + +"What!" cried the Easterner, excited. + +"Well, relocate them ourselves, if that suits you better." + +Bennington's dull eyes began to light up. + +"So get a move on you," went on Fay; "hustle out some paper so we can +make location notices. Under the terms of a relocation, we can use the +old stakes and 'discovery,' so all we have to do is to tack up a new +notice all round. That's the trouble. That gang's got their notices all +written, and I'm afraid they've got ahead of us. Come on!" + +Bennington, who had up to this time remained seated on the pile of +stones, seemed filled with a new and great excitement. He tottered to +his feet, throwing his hands aloft. + +"Thank God! Thank God!" he cried, catching his breath convulsively. + +Fay turned to look at him curiously. "We aren't that much out of the +woods," he remarked; "the other gang'll get in their work, don't you +fret." + +"They never will, they never will!" cried the Easterner exultantly. +"They can't. We'll locate 'em all!" The tears welled over his eyes and +ran down his cheeks. + +"What do you mean?" asked Fay, beginning to fear the excitement had +unsettled his companion's wits. + +"Because they're there!" cried Bennington, pointing to the mouth of the +shaft near which he had been sitting. "Davidson, Slayton, +Arthur--they're all there, and they can't get away! I didn't know what +else to do. I had to do something!" + +Fay cast an understanding glance at the young man's rifle, and sprang +to the entrance of the shaft. As though in direct corroboration of his +speech, Fay could perceive, just emerging from the shadow, the sinister +figure of the man Arthur creeping cautiously up the ladder, evidently +encouraged to an attempt to escape by the sound of the conversation +above. The Westerner snatched his pistol from his holster and +presented it down the shaft. + +"Kindly return!" he commanded in a soft voice. The upward motion of the +dim figure ceased, and in a moment it had faded from view in the +descent. Fay waited a moment. "In five minutes," he announced in louder +tones, "I'm going to let loose this six-shooter down that shaft. I +should advise you gentlemen to retire to the tunnel." He peered down +again intently. A sudden clatter and thud behind him startled him. He +looked around. Bennington had fallen at full length across the stones, +and his rifle, falling, had clashed against the broken ore. + +Fay, with a slight shrug of contempt at such womanish weakness, ran to +his assistance. He straightened the Easterner out and placed his folded +coat under his head. "He'll come around in a minute," he muttered. He +glanced toward the gulch and then back to the shaft. "Can't leave that +lay-out," he went on. He bent over the prostrate figure and began to +loosen the band of his shirt. Something about the boy's clothing +attracted his attention, so, drawing his knife, he deftly and gently +ripped away the coat and shirt. Then he arose softly to his feet and +bared his head. + +"I apologize to you," said he, addressing the recumbent form; "you are +game." + +In the fleshy part of the naked shoulder was a small round hole, +clotted and smeared with blood. + +Jim Fay stooped and examined the wound closely. The bullet had entered +near the point of the shoulder, but a little below, so that it had +merely cut a secant through the curve of the muscle. If it had struck a +quarter of an inch to the left it would have gouged a furrow; a quarter +of an inch beyond that would have caused it to miss entirely. Fay saw +that the hurt itself was slight, and that the Easterner had fainted +more because of loss of blood than from the shock. This determined to +his satisfaction, he moved quickly to the mouth of the shaft. "Way +below!" he cried in a sharp voice, and discharged his revolver twice +down the opening. Then he stole noiselessly away, and ran at speed to +the kitchen of the shack, whence he immediately returned with a pail of +water and a number of towels. He set these down, and again peered down +the shaft. "Way below!" he repeated, and dropped down a sizable chunk +of ore. Apparently satisfied that the prisoners were well warned, he +gave his whole attention to his patient. + +He washed the wound carefully. Then he made a compress of one of the +towels, and bound it with the other two. Looking up, he discovered +Bennington watching him intently. + +"It's all right!" he assured the latter in answer to the question in +his eyes. "Nothing but a scratch. Lie still a minute till I get this +fastened, and you can sit up and watch the rat hole while I get you +some clothes." + +In another moment or so the young man was propped up against an empty +ore "bucket," his shoulder bound, and his hand slung comfortably in a +sling from his neck. + +"There you are," said Jim cheerily. "Now you take my six-shooter and +watch that aggregation till I get back. They won't come out any, but +you may as well be sure." + +He handed Bennington his revolver, and moved off in the direction of +the cabin, whistling cheerfully. The young man looked after him +thoughtfully. Nothing could have been more considerate than the +Westerner's manner, nothing could have been kinder than his prompt +action--Bennington saw that his pony, now cropping the brush near at +hand, was black with sweat--nothing could have been more +straightforward than his assistance in the matter of the claims. And +yet Bennington de Laney was not satisfied. He felt he owed the sudden +change of front to a word spoken in his behalf by the girl. This was a +strange influence she possessed, thus to alter a man's attitude +entirely by the mere voicing of a wish. + +The Westerner returned carrying a loose shirt and a coat, which he drew +entire over the injured shoulder, which left one sleeve empty. + +"I guess that fixes you," said he with satisfaction. + +"Look here," put in Bennington suddenly, "you've been mighty good to me +in all this. If you hadn't come along as you did, these fellows would +have nabbed me sooner or later, and probably I'd have lost the claims +any way. I feel I owe you a lot. But I want you to know before you go +any further that that don't square us. You've had it in for me ever +since I came out here, and you've made it mighty unpleasant for me. I +can't forget that all at once. I want to tell you plainly that, +although I am grateful enough, I know just why you have done all this. +It is because _she_ asked you to. And knowing that, I can't accept what +you do for me as from a friend, for I don't feel friendly toward you in +the least." His face flushed painfully. "I'm not trying to insult you +or be boorish," he said; "I just want you to understand how I feel +about it. And now that you know, I suppose you'd better let the matter +go, although I'm much obliged to you for fixing me up." + +He glanced at his shoulder. + +Fay listened to this speech quietly and with patience. "What do you +intend to do?" he asked, when the other had quite finished. + +"I don't know yet. If you'll say nothing down below--and I'm sure you +will not--I'll contrive some way of keeping this procession down the +hole, and of feeding them, and then I'll relocate the claims myself." + +"With one arm?" + +"Yes, with one arm!" cried Bennington fiercely; "with no arms at all, +if need be!" he broke off suddenly, with the New Yorker's ingrained +instinct of repression. "I beg your pardon. I mean I'll do as well as I +can, of course." + +"How about the woman--Arthur's wife? She'll give you trouble." + +"She has locked herself in her cabin already. I will assist her to +continue the imprisonment." + +Fay laughed outright. "And you expect, with one arm and wounded, to +feed four people, keep them in confinement, and at the same time to +relocate eighteen claims lying scattered all over the hills! Well, +you're optimistic, to say the least." + +"I'll do the best I can," repeated Bennington doggedly. + +"And you won't ask help of a friend ready to give it?" + +"Not as a friend." + +"Well," Fay chuckled, apparently not displeased, "you're an obstinate +young man, or rather a pig-headed young man, but I don't know as that +counts against you. I'll help you out, anyway--if not as a friend, then +as an enemy. You see, I have my marching orders from someone else, and +you haven't anything to do with it." + +Bennington bowed coldly, but his immense relief flickered into his face +in spite of himself. "What should we do first?" he asked formally. + +"Sit here and wait for the kids," responded Jim. + +"Who are the kids?" + +"Friends of mine--trustworthy." + +Jim rearranged Bennington's coverings and lit a pipe. "Tell us about +it," said he. + +"There isn't much to tell. I knew I had to do something, so I just held +them up and made them get down the shaft. I didn't know what I was +going to do next, but I was glad to have them out of the way to get +time to think." + +"Who plugged you?" inquired Fay, motioning with the mouthpiece of his +pipe toward the wounded shoulder. + +"That was Arthur. He had a little gun in his coat pocket and he shot +from inside the pocket. I'd made them drop all the guns they had, I +thought." + +"Did you take a crack at him then?" asked Fay, interested. + +"Oh, no. I just covered him and made him shell out. As a matter of fact +I don't believe any one of them knew I was hit." + +Fay smoked on in silence, glancing from time to time with satisfaction +at the youth opposite. During the passage of these events the day had +not far advanced. The shadow of Harney had not yet reached out to the +edge of the hills. + +"Hullo! The kids!" said Fay suddenly. + +Two pedestrians emerged from the lower gulch and bent their steps +toward the camp. As they came nearer, Bennington, with a gasp of +surprise, recognised the Leslies. + +The sprightly youths were dressed just alike, in knickerbockers and +Norfolk jackets of dark brown plaid, and small college caps to +match--an outfit which Bennington had always believed would attract too +vivid attention in this country. As they came nearer he saw that the +jackets were fitted with pockets of great size. In the pockets were +sketch books and bulging articles. They caught sight of the two figures +on the ore heap simultaneously. + +"Behold our attentive host!" cried Jeems. "He is now in the act of +receiving us with all honour!" + +Bennington's face fairly shone with pleasure at the encounter. "Hullo +fellows! Hullo there!" he cried out delightedly again and again, and +rose slowly to his feet. This disclosed the fact of his injury, and the +brothers ran forward, with real sympathy and concern expressed on their +lively countenances. There ensued a rapid fire of questions and +answers. The Leslies proved to be already familiar with the details of +the attempt to jump the claims, and understood at once Fay's brief +account of the present situation, over which they rejoiced in the +well-known Leslie fashion. They exploded in genuine admiration of +Bennington's adventure, and praised that young man enthusiastically. +Bennington could feel, even before this, that he stood on a different +footing than formerly with these self-reliant young men. They treated +him as familiarly as ever, but with a new respect. The truth is, their +astuteness in reading character, which is as essentially an attribute +of the artistic temperament in black and white as in words and phrases, +had shown them already that their old acquaintance had grown from boy +to man since last they had met. They knew this even before they learned +of its manifestation. So astounding was the change that they gave it +credit, perhaps, for being more thorough than it was. After the +situation had been made plain, Bennington reverted to the +unexpectedness of their appearance. + +"But you haven't told me yet how you happen to be here," he suggested. +"I'd as soon have expected to see Ethel Henry coming up the gulch!" + +"Didn't you get our letters?" cried Bert in astonishment. + +"No, I haven't received any letters. Did you write?" + +"Did we write! Well, I should think so! We wrote three times, telling +you we were coming and when to expect us. Jeems and I wondered why you +didn't meet us. That explains it. Seems funny you didn't get any of +those letters!" + +"No, I don't believe it is so funny after all," responded Bennington, +who had been thinking it over. "I remember now that Davidson told the +others he had been intercepting my letters from the Company, and I +suppose he got yours too." + +"That's it, of course. I'll have to interview that Davidson later. +Well, we used to train around here off and on, as I told you once, and +this year Jeems and I thought we'd do our summer sketching here, and +sort of revive old times. So we packed up and came." + +"I'm mighty glad you came, anyway," replied Bennington fervently. + +"So'm I. We're just in time to help foil the villain. As foilers Jeems +and I are an artistic success. We have studied foiling under the best +masters in the Bowery and Sixth Avenue theatres." + +"Where's Bill?" asked Jim suddenly. + +"Will be around in the morning. You're to report progress at once. +Didn't dare to come up until after the row. Dreadful anxious though. +Would have come if Jeems and I hadn't forbidden it." + +Bennington wondered vaguely who Bill might be, but he was beginning to +feel a little tired from the excitement and his wound, so he said +nothing. + +"The next thing is grub," remarked Fay, rising and gathering his pony's +reins. "I'll mosey up to the shack and see about supper. You fellows +can sit around and talk until I get organized." + +He turned to move away, leading his horse. + +"Hold on a minute, Jim," called Bert. "You might lend me your bronc, +and I'll lope down and set Bill's mind easy. It won't take long." + +"Good scheme!" approved Jim heartily. "That's thoughtful of you, +Bertie!" + +He dropped the reins where he stood, and the pony, with the usual +well-trained Western docility, hung his head and halted. Bert arose and +looked down the shaft. + +"Supper will be served shortly, gentlemen," he observed suavely. He +turned toward the pony. + +"Bert," called Bennington in a different voice, "did you say you were +going down the gulch?" + +"Yes." + +"Do you want to do something for me?" + +"Why, surely. What is it?" + +"Would you just as soon stop at the Lawtons' and tell Miss Lawton for +me that it's all right! You'll find the Lawton house----" + +"Yes, I know where the Lawton house is," interrupted Bert, "but Miss +Lawton, you said?" + +"Don't you remember, Bert," put in James, "there is a kid there--Maude, +or something of that sort?" + +"No, no, not Maude," persisted Bennington, still more bashfully. "I +mean Miss Lawton, the young lady." + +He felt that both the youths were looking keenly at him with dawning +wonder and delight. "Hold on, Bert," interposed James, as the other was +about to exclaim, "do you mean, Ben, the one you've been giving such a +rush for the last two months?" + +"Miss Lawton and I are very good friends," replied Bennington with +dignity, wondering whence James had his information. + +Bert drew in his breath sharply, and opened his mouth to speak. + +"Hold on, Bert," interposed James again. "There are possibilities in +this. Don't destroy artistic development by undue haste. What did you +call the young lady, Ben?" + +"Miss Lawton, of course!" + +"Daughter of Bill Lawton?" + +"Why, yes." + +"Oh, my eye!" ejaculated James. + +"And you have eyes in your head!" he cried after a moment. "You have +ears in your head! Blamed if you haven't everything in your head but +brains! She's a good one! I didn't appreciate the subtlety of that +woman before. Ben, you everlasting idiot, do you mean to tell me that +you've seen that girl every day for the last two months, and don't know +yet that she's too good to belong to Bill Lawton?" + +Bert began to laugh hysterically. + +"What do you mean!" cried Bennington. + +"What I say. _She_ isn't Bill Lawton's daughter. Her name isn't Lawton +at all. O glory! He don't even know her name!" James in his turn went +into a fit of laughing. In uncontrollable excitement Bennington seized +him with his sound hand. + +"What is it? Tell me! What is her name, then?" + +"O Lord! Don't squeeze so! I'll tell you! Letup!" + +James dashed the back of his hand across his eyes. + +"What is her name?" repeated Bennington fiercely. + +"Wilhelmina Fay. We call her Bill for short." + +"And Jim Fay?" + +"Is her brother." + +"And the Lawtons?" + +"They board there." + +Across Bennington's mind flashed vaguely a suspicion that turned him +faint with mortification. + +"Who is this Jim Fay?" he asked. + +"He's Jim Fay--James Leicester Fay, of Boston." + +"Not----" + +"Yes, exactly. The Boston Fays." + +Bert swung himself into the saddle. "Better not say anything to Bill +about the young 'un's shoulder," called after him the ever-thoughtful +James. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +MASKS OFF + + +Now that it was all explained, it seemed to Bennington de Laney to be +ridiculously simple. He wondered how he could have been so blind. For +the moment, however, all other emotions were swallowed up in intense +mortification over the density he had displayed, and the ridiculous +light in which he must have appeared to all the actors in the comedy. +His companion perceived this, and kindly hastened to relieve it. + +"You're wondering how it all happened," said he, "but you don't want to +ask about it. I'm going to tell you the story of your life. You see, +Bert and I knew the Fays very well in Boston, and we knew also that +they were out here in the Hills. That's what tickled us so when you +said you were coming out to this very place. You know yourself, Ben, +that you were pretty green when you were in New York--you must know it, +because you have got over it so nicely since--and it struck us, after +you talked so much about the 'Wild West,' that it would be a shame if +you didn't get some of it. So we wrote Jim that you were coming, and to +see to it that you had a time." + +Jim chuckled a little. "From his letters, I guess you had it. He wrote +about that horse he sprung on you, and the time they lynched you, and +all the rest of it, and we thought we had done pretty well, especially +since Jim wrote he thought you weren't half bad, and had come through +in good shape. He wrote, too, that you had run against Bill, and that +Bill was fooling you up in some way--way unspecified. He seemed to be a +little afraid that Bill was trifling with your young affections--how is +it Ben, anyway?--but he said that Bill was very haughty on the subject, +and as he'd never been able to do anything with her before, he didn't +believe he'd have much success if he should try now. I suggested that +Bill might get in a little deep herself," went on James, watching his +listener's face keenly, "but Bert seemed inclined to the opinion that +any one as experienced as Bill was perfectly able to take care of +herself anywhere. She's a mighty fine girl, Ben, old man," suddenly +concluded this startling youth, holding out his hand, "and I wish you +every success in the world in getting her!" + +"Thank you, Jeems," replied Bennington simply, without attempting to +deny the state of affairs. "I'm sure I'm glad of your good wishes, but +I'm afraid I haven't any show now." He sighed deeply. + +"I'll give an opinion on that after I see Bill again," observed the +artist sagely. + +"It always struck me as being queer that two of the most refined people +about here should happen to be living in the same house," commented +Bennington, only just aware that it had so struck him. + +"Did it, indeed?" said Leslie drolly. "You're just bursting with +sagacity now, aren't you? And your Sherlock-Holmes intellect is +seething with conjecture. The lover's soul is far above the sordid +earthly considerations which interest us ordinary mortals, but I'll bet +a hat you are wondering how it comes that a Boston girl is out here +without any more restraint on her actions than a careless brother who +doesn't bother himself, and why she's out here at all, and a few things +like that. 'Fess up." + +"Well," acknowledged Bennington a trifle reluctantly, "of course it is +a little out of the ordinary, but then it's all right, somehow, I'll +swear." + +"All right! Of course it's all right! They haven't any father or +mother, you know, and they are independent of action, as you've no +doubt noticed. Bill kept house for Jim for some time--and they used to +keep a great house, I tell you," said James, smacking his lips in +recollection. "Bert and I used to visit there a good deal. That's why +they call me Jeems--to distinguish me from Jim. Then Jim got tired of +doing nothing--they possess everlasting rocks--you know their lamented +dad was a sort of amateur Croesus--and he decided to monkey with mines. +Bert and I were here one summer, so Bill and Jim just pulled up stakes +and came along too. They have been here ever since. They're both true +sports and like the life, and all that; and, besides, Jim has kept busy +monkeying with mining speculation. They're the salt of the earth, that +pair, if they _do_ worry poor old Boston to death with their ways of +doing things. That's one reason I like 'em so much. Society has fits +over their doings, but it can't get along without them." + +"The Fays are a pretty good family, aren't they?" inquired Bennington. +He was irresistibly impelled to ask this question. + +"Best going. Mayflower, William the Conqueror, and all that rot. You +must know of the Boston Fays." + +"I do. That is, I've heard of them; but I didn't know whether they were +the same." + +Jeems perceived that the topic interested the young fellow, so he +descanted at length concerning the Fays, their belongings, and their +doings. Time passed rapidly. Bennington was surprised to see Jim coming +down to them through the afterglow of sunset announcing vociferously +that the meal was at last prepared. + +"I've fed the old lady," he announced, "and unlocked her. She doesn't +know what's up anyway. She just sits there like a graven image, scared +to death. She doesn't know a relocation from a telegraph pole. I told +her to get a move on her and fix us up some bunks, and I guess she's +at it now." + +They consulted as to the best means of guarding the prisoners. It was +finally agreed that Leslie should stand sentinel until the others had +finished supper. + +"I want to watch the effect of this light on the hills," he announced +positively, "and I'm not hungry, and Jim ought to cool off before +coming out into the air, and Ben's shoulder ought to be taken care of. +Get along with ye!" + +Bennington accompanied Jim to the meal very cheerfully. The facts as to +the latter's persecutions remained the same, but in some way they did +not hold the same proportions as heretofore. The mere item that Jim Fay +was Mary's brother, instead of her lover, made all the difference in +the world. He chattered in a lively fashion concerning the method of +work to be adopted. Suddenly he pulled himself up short. + +"I think I must beg your pardon," he said. "I heard about it all from +Jim Leslie. I have been very green, and you were quite right. If you +still want to do so, let's go into this together as friends." + +"No pardon coming to me," responded Fay heartily. "I've been a little +tough on you occasionally, that I'll admit, and if I've done too much, +I'm sure I beg _your_ pardon. I saw you had the right stuff in you that +day when you stuck to the horse until you rode him, and I've always +liked you first-rate since then. And I wouldn't worry about this last +matter. You were green to the country, and were put down here without +definite instructions. You trusted Davidson, of course, and got fooled +in it; but then you just followed Bishop's lead in that. He'd been +trusting Davidson before you got here, and if he hadn't trusted him +right along, you can bet you'd have had your directions from A to Z. He +was as much to blame as you were, and you'll find that he knows it." + +"I'm afraid you can't make me feel any better about that," objected +Bennington, shaking his head despondently. + +"Well, you'll feel better after a time, and anyway there's no actual +harm done." + +At this moment Bert Leslie entered. + +"Bill's tickled to death," he announced. "She says she's coming up +first thing in the morning. She wanted to come right off and cook +supper, but I wouldn't let her. She couldn't very well stay here all +night, and it's pretty late now. What you got here? Pork? Coffee? +Murphies?" + +He sat down and began to eat hungrily. Jim arose to relieve the +sentinel at the mouth of the shaft, at the same time advising de Laney +to go to bed as soon as possible. + +"You're tired," he said, "and need rest. Wet that compress well with +Pond's Extract, and we'll dress it again in the morning." + +In the kitchen he found the strange sombre woman sitting bolt upright +in silence, her arms folded rigidly across her flat bosom. She looked +straight in front of her, and rocked slowly to and fro on her chair. + +"You mustn't worry, Mrs. Arthur," consoled Fay kindly, pausing for a +moment. "There isn't going to be any trouble. It's just a little matter +of mining law. We'll have to keep your husband locked up for a few +days, but he won't be harmed." + +The woman made no reply. Fay looked at her sharply again, and passed +out. + +"Jeems," he directed that individual at the mouth of the shaft, "go get +your grub. Send the kid to bed right off, and then you and Bert come +down here and we'll fix up these prairie dogs of ours down the hole." + +Jeems and his brother therefore helped the wounded hero to bed, and +left him to a much-needed slumber; after which they returned to the +spot of light in the darkness which marked the glow of Fay's pipe. That +capable individual issued directions. First of all they lowered, by +means of a light cord, food and water to their prisoners. The latter +maintained a sullen silence, and it was only by the lightening of the +burden at the end of the line that those above knew their provisions +had been appropriated. Then followed blankets. The Leslies were +strongly in favour of as uncomfortable a confinement as possible, and +so disapproved of blankets, but Fay insisted. After that the brothers +manned the windlass and let Jim down in a bowline about twenty feet, +while he detached and removed two lengths of the shaft ladder. This +left no means of ascent, as the walls of the shaft were smoothly +timbered; but, to make matters sure, they covered the mouth with inch +thick boards on which they piled large chunks of ore. + +"You don't suppose they'll smother?" suggested Bert. + +"Not much! There's only three of them, and often men drilling will stay +down ten or twelve hours at a time without using up the air." + +"Sweet dreams, gentlemen!" called the irrepressible Jeems in farewell. + +"There's one other thing," said Jim, "and then we can crawl in." + +He approached the cabin in which Arthur and his wife were accustomed to +sleep, and listened until he had satisfied himself that Mrs. Arthur was +inside. Then he softly locked the door, the key of which he had +appropriated immediately after supper, and propped shut the heavy +wooden shutter of the window. + +"No dramatic escapes in ours, thank you!" he muttered. He drew back and +surveyed his work with satisfaction. "Come on, boys, let's turn in. +To-morrow we slave." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE LAND OF VISIONS + + +Although he had retired so early, and in so exhausted a condition, +Bennington de Laney could not sleep. He had taken a slight fever, and +the wound in his shoulder was stiff and painful. For hours on end he +lay flat on his back, staring at the dim illuminations of the windows +and listening to the faint out-of-door noises or the sharper borings of +insects in the logs of the structure. His mind was not active. He lay +in a semi-torpor, whose most vivid consciousness was that of mental +discomfort and the interminability of time. + +The events of the day rose up before him, but he seemed to loathe them +merely because they had been of so active a character, and now he could +not bear to have his brain teased even with their impalpable shadow. + +Strangely enough, this altitude seemed to create a certain dead +polarity between him and them. They lay sullenly outside his brain, +repelled by this dead polarity, and he looked at them languidly, +against the dim illumination of the window, with a dull joy that they +could not come near him and enter the realm of his thoughts. All this +was the fever. + +In a little time these events became endowed with more palpable bodies +which moved. The square of semilucent window faded into something +indescribable, and that into something indescribable, and that into +something else, still indescribable. + +They moved swiftly, and things happened. He found himself suddenly in a +long gallery, half in the dusk, half in the lamplight, pacing slowly +back and forth, waiting for something, he knew not what. To him came a +bustling motherly old woman with a maid's cap on, who said, "Sure, +Master Ben, the moon is shining, and, let me tell ye, at the end of the +hall is a balcony of iron, and Miss Mary will be glad you know that +same." And at that he seemed to himself to be hunting for a coin with +which to tip her. He discovered it turned to lead between his fingers, +whereupon the old woman laughed shrilly and disappeared, and he found +himself alone on the prairie at midnight. + +His mind seemed to be filled with great thoughts which would make him +famous. Over and over again he said to himself: "The rain pours and the +people down below chuckle as they move about each under his little +umbrella of self-conceit. They look up to the mountain, saying, 'The +fool! Why looks he so high? He is lost in the mists up there, and he +might be safe and dry with us.' But the mountain has over him the arch +of the universe, and sleeps calmly in the sun of truth. Little recks he +of the clouds below, and knows not at all the little self-satisfied +fools who pity him," and he thought this was the sum of all wisdom, and +that with it would come immortality. + +Then a bell began to boom, a deep-toned bell, whose tolling was +inexpressibly solemn, and poured into his heart a sadness too deep for +sorrow. As though there dwelt an enchantment in the very sound itself, +the dark prairies shifted like a scene, and in their stead he saw, in a +cold gray twilight, a high doorway built of a cold gray stone, +rough-hewed and heavy. Through its arch passed then a file of +gray-cowled monks, their faces concealed. Each carried a torch, whose +flickering, wavering light cast weird cowled figures on the gray stone, +and in their midst was borne a bier, covered with white. And as the +deep bell boomed on through all the vision, like a subtle thrilling +presence, Bennington seemed to himself to stand, finger on lip, the +eternal custodian of the Secret of it all--the secret that each of +these cowled figures was a Man--a divine soul and a body, with ears, +and eyes, and a brain; that he had thoughts, and his life that is and +is to come was of these thoughts; that there beat hearts beneath that +gray, and that their voices must not be heeded; that in the morning +these wearied eyes awaited but the eve, and that the evening brought no +hope for a new day; that these silent, awesome beings lived within the +heavy stones alone with monotony, until the bell tolled, as now, and +they were carried through the arched doorway into the night; and, above +all, that to each there were sixty minutes in the hour, and twenty-four +hours in the day, and years and years of these days. This was the +Secret, and he was its custodian. None of the others knew of it; but +its awfulness made him sad and stern. He checked the days, he numbered +the hours, he counted the minutes rigorously lest one escape. One did +escape, and he turned back to catch it, and pursued it far away from +the stone doorway and the dull twilight, and even the sound of the +bell, off into a land where there were many hills and valleys, among +which the fugitive Minute hid elusively. And he pursued the Minute, +calling upon it to come to him, and the name by which he called it was +Mary. Then he saw that the square of the window had become yellow with +the sun, and that through it he could hear plainly the voices of the +Leslies talking in high tones. + +His brain was very clear, more so than usual, and he not only received +many impressions, and ordered them with ease and despatch, but his very +senses seemed more than ordinarily acute. He could distinguish even by +day, when the night stillness had withdrawn its favouring conditions, +the borings of the sawdust insects in the logs of the cabin. Only he +was very tired. His hands seemed a long distance away, as though it +would require an extraordinary effort of the will to lift them. So he +lay quiet and listened. + +The conversation, of which he was the eavesdropper, was carried on by +fits and starts. First a sentence would be delivered by one of the +Leslies; then would ensue a pause as though for a reply, inaudible to +any but the interlocutors themselves; then another sentence; and so on, +like a man at a telephone. After a moment's puzzling over it, +Bennington understood that Jim Leslie was talking to one of the +prisoners down the shaft. + +"You have the true sporting spirit, sir," cried the voice of Jeems. "I +honour you for it. But so philosophical a resignation, while it +inclines our souls to know more of you personally, nevertheless renders +you much less interesting in such a juncture as the present. I would +like to hear from Mr. Davidson." + +Pause. + +"That was a performance, Mr. Davidson, which I can not entirely +commend. It is fluent, to be sure, but it lacks variety. A true artist +would have interspersed those finer shades and gradations of meaning +which go to express the numerous and clashing emotions which must +necessarily agitate your venerable bosom. You surely mean more than +_damn_. _Damn_ is expressive and forceful, because capable of being +enunciated at one explosive effort of the breath, but it is monotonous +when too freely employed. To be sure, you might with some justice reply +that you had qualified said adjective strongly--but the qualification +was trite though blasphemous. And you limited it very nicely--but the +limitation to myself is unjust, as it overlooks my brother's equitable +claims to notice." + +Pause. + +"I _beg_ pardon! Kindly repeat!" + +Pause. + +"Delicious! Mr. Davidson, you have redeemed yourself. Bertie, did you +hear Mr. Davidson's last remark?" + +"No!" replied another voice. "Couldn't be bothered. What was it?" + +"Mr. Davidson, with a polished sarcasm that amounted to genius, advised +me in his picturesque vernacular 't' set thet jaw of mine goin', and +then go away an' leave it!'" + +Pause. + +"I beg you, Mr. Slayton, do not think of such a thing. I would not have +him repressed for anything in the world. As you value our future +acquaintanceship, do not end our interview. Thank you! I appreciate +your compliment, and in return will repeat that, though in a pretty +sharp game, you are a true sport. Our friend Arthur is strangely +silent. I have never met Mr. Arthur. I have heard that either his face +or his hat looks like a fried egg, but I forget for the moment which +was so characterized." + +Pause. + +"Fie, fie! Mr. Arthur. Addison, in his most intoxicated moments, would +never have used such language." + +And then the man in the cabin, lying on the bed, began to laugh in a +low tone. His laugh was not pleasant to hear. He was realizing how +funny things were to other people--things that had not been funny to +him at all. For the first time he caught a focus on his father, with +his pompous pride and his stilted diction; on his mother's social +creed. He cared as much for them as ever and his respect was as great, +but now he realized that outsiders could never understand them as he +did, and that always to others they must appear ridiculous. So he +laughed. And, too, he perceived that the world would see something +grimly humorous in his insistence on the girl's parentage, when all the +time, in the home to which he was to bring her, dwelt these unlovable, +snobbish old parents of his own. So he laughed. And he thought of how +he had been fooled, and played with, and duped, and cheated, and all +but disgraced by the very people on whom he had looked down from a +fancied superiority. And so he laughed. And as he laughed his hands +swelled up to the size of pillows, and he thought that he was dressed +in a loose garment spotted all over with great spots, and that he was +standing on a stage before these grave, silent hillmen. The light came +in through a golden-yellow square just behind them. In the front row +sat Mary, looking at him with wide-open, trusting eyes. And he was +revolving these hands like pillows around each other, trying to make +the sombre men and the wistful girl laugh with him, while over and +over certain words slipped in between his cachinnations, like stray +bird-notes through a rattle of drums. + +"I have no fresh motley for my lady's amusement," he was saying to her, +"no new philosophies to spread out for my lady's inspection, no bright +pictures to display for my lady's pleasure, and so I, like a poor +poverty-stricken minstrel whose harp has been broken, yet dare beg at +the castle gate for a crumb of my lady's bounty." At which he would +have wept, but could only laugh louder and louder. + +Then dimly he knew again he was in his own room, and he felt that +several people were moving back and forth quickly. He tried to rise, +but could not, and he knew that he was slipping back to the hall and +the solemn crowd of men. He did not want to go. He grasped convulsively +at the blanket with his sound hand, and shrieked aloud. + +"I am sick! I am sick! I am sick!" he cried louder and louder. + +Some one laid a cool hand on his forehead, and he lay quiet and smiled +contentedly. The room and the people became wraithlike. He saw them +still, but he saw through them to a reality of soft meadows and summer +skies, from which Mary leaned, resting her hand on his brow. Voices +spoke, but muffled, as though by many veils. They talked of various +things. + +"It's the mountain fever," he heard one say. "It's a wonder he escaped +it so long." + +Then the cool hand was withdrawn from his brow, and inexorably he was +hurried back into the land of visions. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +FLOWER O' THE WORLD + + +Bennington de Laney found himself lying comfortably in bed, listening +with closed eyes to a number of sounds. Of these there most impressed +him two. They were a certain rhythmical muffled beat, punctuated at +intervals by a slight rustling of paper; and a series of metallic +clicks, softened somewhat by distance. After a time it occurred to him +to open his eyes. At once he noticed two things more--that he had some +way acquired fresh white sheets for his bed, and that on a little table +near the foot of his bunk stood a vase of flowers. These two new +impressions satisfied him for some time. He brooded over them slowly, +for his brain was weak. Then he allowed his gaze to wander to the +window. From above its upper sash depended two long white curtains of +some lacelike material, freshly starched and with deep edges, ruffled +slightly in a pleasing fashion. They stirred slowly in the warm air +from the window. Bennington watched them lazily, breathing with +pleasure the balmy smell of pine, and listening to the sounds. The +clinking noises came through the open window. He knew now that they +meant the impact of sledge on drill. Some one was drilling somewhere. +His glance roved on, and rested without surprise on a girl in a rocking +chair swaying softly to and fro, and reading a book, the turning of +whose leaves had caused the rustling of paper which he had noticed +first. + +For a long time he lay silent and contented. Her fine brown hair had +been drawn back smoothly away from her forehead into a loose knot. She +was dressed in a simple gown of white--soft, and resting on the curves +of her slender figure as lightly as down on the surface of the warm +meadows. From beneath the full skirt peeped a little slippered foot, +which tapped the floor rhythmically as the chair rocked to and fro. +Finally she glanced up and discovered him locking at her. She arose and +came to the bedside, her finger on her lips. + +"You mustn't talk," she said sweetly, a great joy in her eyes. "I'm so +glad you're better." + +She left the room, and returned in a little time with a bowl of chicken +broth, which she fed him with a spoon. It tasted very good to him, and +he felt the stronger for it, but as yet his voice seemed a long +distance away. When she turned to leave the room, however, he murmured +inarticulately and attempted to stir. She came back to the bed at once. + +"I'll be back in a minute," she said gently, but seeing some look of +pleading in his eyes, she put the empty bowl and spoon on the little +table and sat down on the floor near the bed. He smiled, and then, +closing his eyes, fell asleep--outside the borders of the land of +visions, and with the music of a woman's voice haunting the last +moments of his consciousness. + +After the fever had once broken, his return to strength was rapid. +Although accompanied by delirium, and though running its full course of +weeks, the "mountain fever" is not as intense as typhoid. The +exhaustion of the vital forces is not as great, and recuperation is +easier. In two days Bennington was sitting up in bed, possessed of an +appetite that threatened to depopulate entirely the little log chicken +coop. He found that the tenancy of the camp had materially changed. +Mrs. Lawton and Miss Fay had moved in, bag and baggage--but without the +inquisitive Maude, Bennington was glad to observe. + +Mrs. Lawton, in the presence of an emergency, turned out to be helpful +in every way. She knew all about mountain fevers for one thing, and as +the country was not yet blessed with a doctor, this was not an +unimportant item. Then, too, she was a most capable housekeeper--she +cooked, marketed, swept, dusted, and tyrannized over the mere men in a +manner to be envied even by a New England dame. Fay and the Leslies had +also taken up their quarters in the camp. Old Mizzou and the Arthurs +had gone. The old "bunk house" now accommodated a good-sized gang of +miners, who had been engaged by Fay to do the necessary assessment +work. Altogether the camp was very populous and lively. + +After a little Bennington learned of everything that had happened +during the three weeks of his sickness. It all came out in a series of +charming conversations, when, in the evening twilight, they gathered in +the room where the sick man lay. Mary--as Bennington still liked to +name her--occupied the rocking chair, and the three young men +distributed themselves as best suited them. It was most homelike and +resting. Bennington had never before experienced the delight of seeing +a young girl about a house, and he enjoyed to the utmost the deft +little touches by which is imparted that airily feminine appearance to +a room; or, more subtly, the mere spirit of daintiness which breathes +always from a woman of the right sort. He felt there was added a newer +and calmer element of joy to his love. + +During the first period of his illness, then, Jim Fay and the Leslie +brothers had worked energetically relocating the claims, while Mrs. +Lawton and Miss Fay had taken charge of the house. By the end of the +first day the job was finished. The question then came up as to the +disposition of the prisoners. + +"We didn't want the nuisance of a prosecution," said Fay, "because that +would mean that these mossbacks could drag us off to Rapid City any +old time as witnesses, and keep us there indefinitely. Neither did we +want to let them off scot-free. They'd made us altogether too much +trouble for that! Bert here suggested a very simple way out. I went +down to Spanish Gulch and told the boys the whole story from start to +finish. Well, it isn't hard to handle a Western crowd if you go at it +right. The boys always thought you had good stuff in you since you rode +the horse and smashed Leary's face that night. It would have been easy +to have cooked up all kinds of trouble for our precious gang, but I +managed to get the boys in a frivolous mood, so they merely came up and +had fun." + +"I should say they did!" Bert interjected. "They dragged the crowd out +of the shaft--and they were a tough-looking proposition, I can tell +you!--and stood them up in a row. They shaved half of Davidson's head +and half his beard, on opposite sides. They left tufts of hair all over +Arthur. They made a six-pointed star on the top of Slayton's crown. +Then they put the men's clothes on wrong side before, and tied them +facing the rear on three scrubby little burros. Then the whole outfit +was started toward Deadwood. The boys took them as far as Blue Lead, +where they delivered them over to the gang there, with instructions to +pass them along. They probably got to Deadwood. I don't know what's +become of them since." + +"I think it was cruel!" put in Miss Fay decidedly. + +"Perhaps. But it was better than hanging them." + +"What became of Mrs. Arthur?" asked the invalid. + +"I shipped her to Deadwood with a little money. Poor creature! It would +be a good thing for her if her husband never did show up. She'd get +along better without him." + +The claims located and the sharpers got rid of, Fay proceeded at once +to put the assessment work under way. In this, his long Western +experience, and his intimate acquaintance with the men, stood him in +such good stead that he was enabled to contract the work at a cheaper +rate than Bishop's estimate. + +"I wrote to Bishop," he said, "and told him all about it. In his +answer, which I'll show you, he took all the blame to himself, just as +I anticipated he would, and he's so tickled to death over the showing +made by the assays that he's coming out here himself to see about +development. So I'm afraid you're going to lose your job." + +"I'm not sorry to go home. But I'm sorry to leave the Hills." He looked +wistfully through the twilight toward Mary's slender figure, outlined +against the window. The three men caught the glance, and began at once +to talk in low tones to each other. In a moment they went out. Somehow, +on returning from the land of visions, Ben found that the world had +moved, and that one of the results of the movement was that many things +were taken for granted by the little community of four who surrounded +him. It was as though the tangle had unravelled quietly while he slept. +She leaned toward him shyly, and whispered something to his ear. He +smiled contentedly. + +They talked then long and comfortably in the dusk--about how the +Leslies had written the letter, how much trouble she had taken to +conceal her real identity, and all the rest. + +"I sent Bill Lawton up to warn your camp the first day I met you," said +she. + +"Why, I remember!" he cried. "He was there when I got back." + +And they talked on of their many experiences, in the fashion of lovers, +and how they had come to care for each other, and when. + +"I made up my mind it was so foolish a joke," she confessed, "that I +determined to tell you all about it. You remember I had something to +tell you at the Pioneer's Picnic? That was it. But then you remember +the girl in the train, and how, when she looked at us, you turned +away?" + +"I remember that well enough," replied Bennington. "But what has that +to do with it?" + +"It was a perfectly natural thing to do, dearest. I see that plainly +enough now. But it hurt me a little that you should be ashamed of me as +a Western girl, and I made up my mind to test you." + +"Why, I wasn't thinking of that at all," cried Bennington. "I was just +ashamed of my clothes. I never thought of you!" + +She reached out and patted his hand. "I'm glad to hear that, Ben dear, +after all. It did hurt. And I was so foolish. I thought if you were +ashamed of me, you would never stand the thought of the Lawtons. So I +did not tell you the truth then, but resolved to test you in that way." + +"Foolish little girl!" said he tenderly. "But it came out all right, +didn't it?" + +"Yes," she sighed, with a happy gesture of the hands. They fell silent. + +"I want you to tell me something, dear," said Bennington after a while. +"You needn't unless you want to, but I've thought about it a great +deal." + +"I will tell you, Ben, anything in the world. We ought to be frank with +each other now, don't you think so?" + +"I don't know as I ought to say anything about it, after all," he +hesitated, evidently embarrassed. "But, Mary, you know you have hinted +a little at it yourself. You remember you said something once about +losing faith, and being made hard, and----" + +She took both his hands in hers and drew them closely to her breast. +Although he could not see her eyes against the dusk, he knew that she +was looking at him steadily. + +"Listen quietly, Ben dear, and I will tell you. Before I came out here +I thought I loved a man, and he--well, he did not treat me well. I had +trusted him and every one else implicitly until the very moment +when----I felt it very much, and I came West with Jim to get away from +the old scenes. Now I know that it was only fascination, but it was +very real then. You do not like that, Ben, do you? The memory is not +pleasant to me, and yet," she said, with a wistful little break of the +voice, "if it hadn't been for that I would not have been the woman I +am, and I could not love you, dearest, as I do. It is never in the same +way twice, but each time something better and higher is added to it. +Oh, my darling, I _do_ love you, I do love you so much, and you must be +always my generous, poetic _boy_, as you are now." + +She strained his hands to her as though afraid he would slip from her +clasp. "All that is ideal so soon hardens. I can not bear to think of +your changing." + +Bennington leaned forward and their lips met. "We will forgive him," he +murmured. + +And what that remark had to do with it only our gentler readers will be +able to say. + +Ah, the delicious throbbing silence after the first kiss! + +"What was your decision that afternoon on the Rock, Ben? You never told +me." She asked presently, in a lighter tone, "Would you have taken me +in spite of my family?" + +He laughed with faint mischief. + +"Before I tell you, I want to ask _you_ something," he said in his +turn. "Supposing I had decided that, even though I loved you, I must +give you up because of my duty to my family--suppose that, I say--what +would _you_ have done? Would your love for me have been so strong that +you would have finally confessed to me the fact that the Lawtons were +not your parents? Or would you have thrown me over entirely because you +thought I did not love you enough to take you for yourself?" + +She considered the matter seriously for some little time. + +"Ben, I don't know," she confessed at last frankly. "I can't tell." + +"No more can I, sweetheart. I hadn't decided." + +She puckered her brows in the darkness with genuine distress. Women +worry more than men over past intangibilities. He smiled comfortably to +himself, for in his grasp he held, unresisting, the dearest little hand +in the world. Outside, the ever-charming, ever-mysterious night of the +Hills was stealing here and there in sighs and silences. From the +darkness came the high sweet tenor of Bert Leslie's voice in the words +of a song: + + "A Sailor to the Sea, a Hunter to the Pines, + And Sea and Pines alike to joy the Rover, + The Wood-smells to the nostrils of the Lover of the Trail, + And Hearts to Hearts the whole World over!" + +Through and through the words of the song, like a fine silver wire +through richer cloth of gold, twined the long-drawn, tremulous notes +of the white-throated sparrow, the nightingale of the North. + +"The dear old Hills," he murmured tenderly. "We must come back to them +often, sweetheart." + +"I wish, I _wish_ I knew!" she cried, holding his hand tighter. + +"Knew what?" he asked, surprised. + +"What you'd have done, and what I'd have done!" + +"Well," he replied, with a happy sigh, "I know what I'm _going_ to do, +and that's quite enough for me." + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Claim Jumpers, by Stewart Edward White + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10942 *** diff --git a/10942-h/10942-h.htm b/10942-h/10942-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7785cf0 --- /dev/null +++ b/10942-h/10942-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5918 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=UTF-8"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Claim Jumpers, by Stewart Edward White. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; right: 100%; font-size: 8pt; justify: right;} /* page numbers */ + // --> + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10942 ***</div> + +<h1>THE CLAIM JUMPERS</h1> + +<h2><i>A ROMANCE</i></h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>STEWART EDWARD WHITE</h2> + +<h6>NEW YORK</h6> + +<h6>D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</h6> + +<h6>1901</h6> + + +<hr> + +<b>CONTENTS</b> +<br> +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I -- JIM LESLIE WRITES A LETTER</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II -- THE STORY-BOOK WEST</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III -- BENNINGTON HUNTS FOR GOLD AND FINDS A KISS</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV -- THE SUN FAIRY</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V -- THE SPIRIT MOUNTAIN</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI -- BENNINGTON AS A MAN OF BUSINESS</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII -- THE MEETING AT THE ROCK</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII -- AN ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX -- THE HEAVENS OPENED</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X -- THE WORLD MADE YOUNG</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI -- AND HE DID EAT</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII -- OLD MIZZOU RESIGNS</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII -- THE SPIRES OF STONE</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV -- THE PIONEER'S PICNIC</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV -- THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI -- A NOON DINNER</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII -- NOBLESSE OBLIGE</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII -- THE CLAIM JUMPERS</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX -- BENNINGTON PROVES GAME</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER XX -- MASKS OFF</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI -- THE LAND OF VISIONS</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII -- FLOWER O' THE WORLD</b></a><br> + +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_I"></a><h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>JIM LESLIE WRITES A LETTER</h3> +<br> + +<p>In a fifth-story sitting room of a New York boarding house four youths +were holding a discussion. The sitting room was large and square, and +in the wildest disorder, which was, however, sublimated into a certain +system by an illuminated device to the effect that one should "Have a +Place for Everything, and then there'll be one Place you won't have to +look." Easels and artists' materials thrust back to the wall +sufficiently advertised the art student, and perhaps explained the +untidiness.</p> + +<p>Two of the occupants of the room, curled up on elevated window ledges, +were emitting clouds of tobacco smoke and nursing their knees; the +other two, naked to the waist, sat on a couple of ordinary bedroom +mattresses deposited carefully in the vacant centre of the apartment. +They were eager, alert-looking young men, well-muscled, curly of hair, +and possessing in common an unabashed carriage of the head which, more +plainly than any mere facial resemblance, proved them brothers. They, +too, were nursing their knees.</p> + +<p>"He must be an unadorned ass," remarked one of the occupants of the +window seats, in answer to some previous statement.</p> + +<p>"He is not," categorically denied a youth of the mattresses. "My dear +Hench, you make no distinctions. I've been talking about the boy's +people and his bringing up and the way he acts, whereupon you fly off +on a tangent and coolly conclude things about the boy himself. It is +not only unkind, but stupid."</p> + +<p>Hench laughed. "You amuse me, Jeems," said he; "elucidate."</p> + +<p>Jeems let go his knees. The upper part of his body, thus deprived of +support, fell backward on the mattress. He then clasped his hands +behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.</p> + +<p>"Listen, ye multitude," he began; "I'm an artist. So are you. I'm also +a philosopher. You are not. Therefore, I'll deign to instruct you. Ben +de Laney has a father and a mother. The father is pompous, conceited, +and a bore. The mother is pompous, conceited, and a bore. The father +uses language of whose absolutely vapid correctness Addison would have +been proud. So does the mother, unless she forgets, in which case the +old man calls her down hard. They, are rich and of a good social +position. The latter worries them, because they have to keep up its +dignity."</p> + +<p>"They succeed," interrupted the other brother fervently, "they succeed. +I dined there once. After that I went around to the waxworks to get +cheered up a bit."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, Bertie," replied the philosopher; "but you interrupted me +just before I got to my point. The poor old creatures had been married +many years before Bennie came to cheer <i>them</i> up. Naturally, Bennie has +been the whole thing ever since. He is allowed a few privileges, but +always under the best auspices. The rest of the time he stays at home, +is told what or what not a gentleman should do, and is instructed in +the genealogy of the de Laneys."</p> + +<p>"The mother is always impressing him with the fact that he is a de +Laney on both sides," interpolated Bert.</p> + +<p>"Important, if true, as the newspapers say," remarked the other young +man on the window ledge. "What constitutes a de Laney?"</p> + +<p>"Hereditary lack of humour, Beck, my boy. Well, the result is that poor +Bennie is a sort of----" the speaker hesitated for his word.</p> + +<p>"'Willy boy,'" suggested Beck, mildly.</p> + +<p>"Something of the sort, but not exactly. A 'willy boy' never has ideas. +Bennie has."</p> + +<p>"Such as?"</p> + +<p>"Well, for one thing, he wants to get away. He doesn't seem quite +content with his job of idle aristocrat. I believe he's been pestering +the old man to send him West. Old man doesn't approve."</p> + +<p>"'That the fine bloom of culture will become rubbed off in the contact +with rude, rough men, seems to me inevitable,'" mimicked Bert in +pedantic tones, "'unless a firm sense of personal dignity and an +equally firm sense of our obligations to more refined though absent +friends hedges us about with adequate safeguards.'"</p> + +<p>The four laughed. "That's his style, sure enough," Jim agreed.</p> + +<p>"What does he want to do West?" asked Hench.</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> doesn't know. Write a book, I believe, or something of that sort. +But he <i>isn't</i> an ass. He has a lot of good stuff in him, only it will +never get a chance, fixed the way he is now."</p> + +<p>A silence fell, which was broken at last by Bert.</p> + +<p>"Come, Jeems," he suggested; "here we've taken up Hench's valuable +idea, but are no farther with it."</p> + +<p>"True," said Jeems.</p> + +<p>He rolled over on his hands and knees. Bert took up a similar position +by his side.</p> + +<p>"Go!" shouted Hench from the window ledge.</p> + +<p>At the word, the two on the mattress turned and grappled each other +fiercely, half rising to their feet in the strenuousness of endeavour. +Jeems tried frantically for a half-Nelson. While preventing it the wily +Bert awaited his chance for a hammer-lock. In the moment of indecision +as to which would succeed in his charitable design, a knock on the door +put an end to hostilities. The gladiators sat upright and panted.</p> + +<p>A young man stepped bashfully into the room and closed the door behind +him.</p> + +<p>The newcomer was a clean-cut young fellow, of perhaps twenty-two years +of age, with regular features, brown eyes, straight hair, and sensitive +lips. He was exceedingly well-dressed. A moment's pause followed his +appearance. Then:</p> + +<p>"Why, it's our old friend, the kid!" cried Jeems.</p> + +<p>"Don't let me interrupt," begged the youth diffidently.</p> + +<p>"No interruption. End of round one," panted Jeems. "Glad you came. +Bertie, here, was twisting my delicate clavicle most cruelly. Know +Hench and Beck there?"</p> + +<p>De Laney bowed to the young men in the window, who removed their pipes +from their mouths and grinned amiably.</p> + +<p>"This, gentlemen," explained Jeems, without changing his position, "is +Mr. Bennie de Laney on both sides. It is extremely fortunate for Mr. de +Laney that he is a de Laney on both sides, for otherwise he would be +lop-sided."</p> + +<p>"You will find a seat, Mr. de Laney, in the adjoining bedroom," said +the first, with great politeness; "and if you don't care to go in +there, you will stand yourself in the corner by that easel until the +conclusion of this little discussion between Jeems and myself.—Jeems, +will you kindly state the merits of the discussion to the gentleman? +I'm out of breath."</p> + +<p>Jeems kindly would.</p> + +<p>"Bert and I have, for the last few weeks, been obeying the parting +commands of our dear mother. 'Boys,' said she, with tears in her eyes, +'Boys, always take care of one another.' So each evening I have tried +to tuck Bertie in his little bed, and Bertie, with equal enthusiasm, +has attempted to tuck <i>me</i> in. It has been hard on pyjamas, bed +springs, and the temper of the Lady with the Piano who resides in the +apartments immediately beneath; so, at the wise suggestion of our +friends in the windows"—he waved a graceful hand toward them, and they +gravely bowed acknowledgment—"we are now engaged in deciding the +matter Græco-Roman. The winner 'tucks.' Come on, Bertie."</p> + +<p>The two again took position side by side, on their hands and knees, +while Mr. Hench explained to de Laney that this method of beginning the +bout was necessary, because the limited area of the mat precluded +flying falls. At a signal from Mr. Beck, they turned and grappled, +Jeems, by the grace of Providence, on top. In the course of the combat +it often happened that the two mattresses would slide apart. The +contestants, suspending their struggles, would then try to kick them +together again without releasing the advantage of their holds. The +noise was beautiful. To de Laney, strong in maternal admonitions as to +proper deportment, it was all new and stirring, and quite without +precedent. He applauded excitedly, and made as much racket as the +rest.</p> + +<p>A sudden and vigorous knock for the second time put an end to +hostilities. The wrestlers again sat bolt upright on the mattresses, +and listened.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," cried an irritated German voice, "there is a lady +schleeping on the next floor!"</p> + +<p>"Karl, Karl!" called one of the irrepressibles, "can I never teach you +to be accurate! No lady could possibly be sleeping anywhere in the +building."</p> + +<p>He arose from the mattress and shook himself.</p> + +<p>"Jeems," he continued sadly, "the world is against true virtue. Our +dear mother's wishes can not be respected."</p> + +<p>De Laney came out of his corner.</p> + +<p>"Fellows," he cried with enthusiasm, "I want you to come up and stay +all night with me some time, so mother can see that gentlemen can make +a noise!"</p> + +<p>Bertie sat down suddenly and shrieked. Jeems rolled over and over, +clutching small feathers from the mattress in the agony of his delight, +while the clothed youths contented themselves with amused but gurgling +chuckles.</p> + +<p>"Bennie, my boy," gasped Jeems, at last, "you'll be the death of me! O +Lord! O Lord! You unfortunate infant! You shall come here and have a +drum to pound; yes, you shall." He tottered weakly to his feet. "Come, +Bertie, let us go get dressed."</p> + +<p>The two disappeared into the bedroom, leaving de Laney uncomfortably +alone with the occupants of the window ledge.</p> + +<p>The young fellow walked awkwardly across the room and sat down on a +partly empty chair, not because he preferred sitting to standing, but +in order to give himself time to recover from his embarrassment.</p> + +<p>The sort of chaffing to which he had just been subjected was direct and +brutal; it touched all his tender spots—the very spots wherein he +realized the intensest soreness of his deficiencies, and about which, +therefore, he was the most sensitive—yet, somehow, he liked it. This +was because the Leslie boys meant to him everything free and young that +he had missed in the precise atmosphere of his own home, and so he +admired them and stood in delightful inferiority to them in spite of +his wealth and position. He would have given anything he owned to have +felt himself one of their sort; but, failing that, the next best thing +was to possess their intimacy. Of this intimacy chaffing was a gauge. +Bennington Clarence de Laney always glowed at heart when they rubbed +his fur the wrong way, for it showed that they felt they knew him well +enough to do so. And in this there was something just a little +pathetic.</p> + +<p>Bennington held to the society standpoint with men, so he thought he +must keep up a conversation. He did so. It was laboured. Bennington +thought of things to say about Art, the Theatre, and Books. Hench and +Beck looked at each other from time to time.</p> + +<p>Finally the door opened, and, to the relief of all, two sweatered and +white-ducked individuals appeared.</p> + +<p>"And now, Jeems, we'll smoke the pipe of peace," suggested Bert, diving +for the mantel and the pipe rack.</p> + +<p>"Correct, my boy," responded Jeems, doing likewise. They lit up, and +turned with simultaneous interest to their latest caller.</p> + +<p>"And how is the proud plutocrat?" inquired Bert; "and how did he +contrive to get leave to visit us rude and vulgar persons?"</p> + +<p>The Leslies had called at the de Laneys', and, as Bert said, had dined +there once. They recognised their status, and rejoiced therein.</p> + +<p>"He is calling on the minister," explained Jeems for him. "Bennington, +my son, you'll get caught at that some day, as sure as shooting. If +your mamma ever found out that, instead of talking society-religion to +old Garnett, you were revelling in this awful dissipation, you'd have +to go abroad again."</p> + +<p>"What did you call him?" inquired Bert.</p> + +<p>"Call who?"</p> + +<p>"Him—Bennie—what was that full name?"</p> + +<p>"Bennington."</p> + +<p>"Great Scott! and here I've been thinking all the time he was plain +Benjamin! Tell us about it, my boy. What is it? It sounds like a battle +of the Revolution. <i>Is</i> it a battle of the Revolution? Just to think +that all this time we have been entertaining unawares a real live +battle!"</p> + +<p>De Laney grinned, half-embarrassed as usual.</p> + +<p>"It's a family name," said he. "It's the name of an ancestor."</p> + +<p>He never knew whether or not these vivacious youths really desired the +varied information they demanded.</p> + +<p>The Leslies looked upon him with awe.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to tell me," said Bertie, "that you are a Bennington! +Well, well! This is a small world! We will celebrate the discovery." He +walked to the door and touched a bell five times. "Beautiful system," +he explained. "In a moment Karl will appear with five beers. This +arrangement is possible because never, in any circumstances, do we ring +for anything but beer."</p> + +<p>The beer came. Two steins, two glasses, and a carefully scrubbed +shaving mug were pressed into service. After the excitement of finding +all these things had died, and the five men were grouped about the +place in ungraceful but comfortable attitudes, Bennington bid for the +sympathy he had sought in this visit.</p> + +<p>"Fellows," said he, "I've something to tell you."</p> + +<p>"Let her flicker," said Jim.</p> + +<p>"I'm going away next week. It's all settled."</p> + +<p>"Bar Harbour, Trouville, Paris, or Berlin?"</p> + +<p>"None of them. I'm going West."</p> + +<p>"Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, San Diego, or Monterey?"</p> + +<p>"None of them. I'm going to the real West. I'm going to a mining camp."</p> + +<p>The Leslies straightened their backbones.</p> + +<p>"Don't spring things on us that way," reproved Bertie severely; "you'll +give us heart disease. Now repeat softly."</p> + +<p>"I am going to a mining camp," obeyed Bennington, a little +shamefacedly.</p> + +<p>"With whom?"</p> + +<p>"Alone."</p> + +<p>This time the Leslies sprang quite to their feet.</p> + +<p>"By the Great Horn Spoon, man!" cried Jim. "Alone! No chaperon! Good +Lord!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Bennington, "I've always wanted to go West. I want to +write, and I'm sure, in that great, free country, I'll get a chance for +development. I had to work hard to induce father and mother to consent, +but it's done now, and I leave next week. Father procured me a position +out there in one of the camps. I'm to be local treasurer, or something +like that; I'm not quite sure, you see, for I haven't talked with +Bishop yet. I go to his office for directions to-morrow."</p> + +<p>At the mention of Bishop the Leslies glanced at each other behind the +young man's back.</p> + +<p>"Bishop?" repeated Jim. "Where's your job located?"</p> + +<p>"In the Black Hills of South Dakota, somewhere near a little place +called Spanish Gulch."</p> + +<p>This time the Leslies winked at each other.</p> + +<p>"It's a nice country," commented Bert vaguely; "I've been there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, have you?" cried the young man. "What's it like?"</p> + +<p>"Hills, pines, log houses, good hunting—oh, it's Western enough."</p> + +<p>A clock struck in a church tower outside. In spite of himself, +Bennington started.</p> + +<p>"Better run along home," laughed Jim; "your mamma will be angry."</p> + +<p>To prove that this consideration carried no weight, Bennington stayed +ten minutes longer. Then he descended the five flights of stairs +deliberately enough, but once out of earshot of his friends, he ran +several blocks. Before going into the house he took off his shoes. In +spite of the precaution, his mother called to him as he passed her +room. It was half past ten.</p> + +<p>Beck and Hench kicked de Laney's chair aside, and drew up more +comfortably before the fire; but James would have none of it. He seemed +to be excited.</p> + +<p>"No," he vetoed decidedly. "You fellows have got to get out! I've got +something to do, and I can't be bothered."</p> + +<p>The visitors grumbled. "There's true hospitality for you," objected +they; "turn your best friends out into the cold world! I like that!"</p> + +<p>"Sorry, boys," insisted James, unmoved. "Got an inspiration. Get out! +Vamoose!"</p> + +<p>They went, grumbling loudly down the length of the stairs, to the +disgust of the Lady with the Piano on the floor below.</p> + +<p>"What're you up to, anyway, Jimmie?" inquired the brother with some +curiosity.</p> + +<p>James had swept a space clear on the table, and was arranging some +stationery.</p> + +<p>"Don't you care," he replied; "you just sit down and read your little +Omar for a while."</p> + +<p>He plunged into the labours of composition, and Bert sat smoking +meditatively. After some moments the writer passed a letter over to the +smoker.</p> + +<p>"Think it'll do?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>Bert read the letter through carefully.</p> + +<p>"Jeems," said he, after due deliberation, "Jeems, you're a blooming +genius."</p> + +<p>James stamped the envelope.</p> + +<p>"I'll mail it for you when I go out in the morning," Bert suggested.</p> + +<p>"Not on your daily bread, sonny. It is posted now by my own hand. We +won't take any chances on <i>this</i> layout, and that I can tell you."</p> + +<p>He tramped down four flights and to the corner, although it was +midnight and bitter cold. Then, with a seraphic grin on his +countenance, he went to bed and slept the sleep of the just.</p> + +<p>The envelope was addressed to a Mr. James Fay, Spanish Gulch, South +Dakota.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_II"></a><h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THE STORY-BOOK WEST</h3> +<br> + +<p>When a man is twenty-one, and has had no experience, and graduates from +a small college where he roomed alone in splendour, and possesses a +gift of words and a certain delight in reading, and is thrown into new +and, to him, romantic surroundings—when all these stars of chance +cross their orbits, he begins to write a novel. The novel never has +anything to do with the aforesaid new and romantic surroundings; +neither has it the faintest connection with anything the author has +ever seen. That would limit his imagination.</p> + +<p>Once he was well settled in his new home, and the first excitement of +novel impressions had worn off, Bennington de Laney began to write +regularly three hours a day. He did his scribbling with a fountain pen, +on typewriter paper, and left a broad right-hand margin, just as he had +seen Brooks do. In it he experienced, above all, a delightful feeling +of power. He enjoyed to the full his ability to swing gorgeous involved +sentences, phrase after phrase, down the long arc of rhetoric, without +a pause, without a quiver, until they rushed unhasting up the other +slope to end in beautiful words, polysyllabic, but with just the right +number of syllables. Interspersed were short sentences. He counted the +words in one or the other of these two sorts, carefully noting the +relations they bore to each other. On occasions he despaired because +they did not bear the right relations. And he also dragged out, +squirming, the Anglo-Saxon and Latin derivations, and set them up in a +row that he might observe their respective numbers. He was uneasily +conscious that he ought, in the dread of college anathema, to use the +former, but he loved the many-syllabled crash or modulated music of the +latter. Also, there was the question of getting variety into his +paragraph lengths. It was all excellent practice.</p> + +<p>And yet this technique, absorbing as it was, counted as nothing in +comparison with the subject-matter.</p> + +<p>The method was talent; the subject-matter was Genius; and Genius had +evolved an Idea which no one had ever thought of before—something +brand new under the sun. It goes without saying that the Idea +symbolized a great Truth. One department, the more impersonal, of +Bennington's critical faculty, assured him that the Idea would take +rank with the Ideas of Plato and Emerson. Emerson, Bennington +worshipped. Plato he also worshipped—because Emerson told him to. He +had never read Plato himself. The other, the more personal and modest, +however, had perforce to doubt this, not because it doubted the Idea, +but because Bennington was not naturally conceited.</p> + +<p>To settle the discrepancy he began to write. He laid the scene in +Arabia and decided to call it <i>Aliris: A Romance of all Time</i>, because +he liked the smooth, easy flow of the syllables.</p> + +<p>The consciousness that he could do all this sugar-coated his Wild +Western experiences, which otherwise might have been a little +disagreeable. He could comfort himself with the reflection that he was +superior, if ridiculous.</p> + +<p>In spots, he was certainly the latter. The locality into which his +destinies had led him lay in the tumultuous centre of the Hills, about +thirty miles from Custer and ten from Hill City. Spanish Gulch was +three miles down the draw. The Holy Smoke mine, to which Bennington was +accredited, he found to consist of a hole in the ground, of unsounded +depth, two log structures, and a chicken coop. The log structures +resembled those he had read about. In one of them lived Arthur and his +wife. The wife did the cooking. Arthur did nothing at all but sit in +the shade and smoke a pipe, and this in spite of the fact that he did +not look like a loafer. He had no official connection with the place, +except that of husband to Mrs. Arthur. The other member of the +community was Davidson, alias Old Mizzou.</p> + +<p>The latter was cordial and voluble. As he was blessed with a long white +beard of the patriarchal type, he inspired confidence. He used +exclusively the present tense and chewed tobacco. He also played +interminable cribbage. Likewise he talked. The latter was his strong +point. Bennington found that within two days of his arrival he knew all +about the company's business without having proved the necessity of +stirring foot on his own behalf. The claims were not worth much, +according to Old Mizzou. The company had been cheated. They would find +it out some day. None of the ore assayed very high. For his part he did +not see why they even did assessment work. Bennington was to look after +the latter? All in good time. You know you had until the end of the +year to do it. What else was there to do? Nothing much; The present +holders had come into the property on a foreclosed mortgage, and +weren't doing anything to develop it yet. Did Bennington know of their +plans? No? Well, it looked as though the two of them were to have a +pretty easy time of it, didn't it?</p> + +<p>Old Mizzou tried, by adroit questioning, to find out just why de Laney +had been sent West. There was, in reality, not enough to keep one man +busy, and surely Old Mizzou considered himself quite competent to +attend to that. Finally, he concluded that it must be to watch +him—Old Mizzou. Acting on that supposition, he tried a new tack.</p> + +<p>For two delicious hours he showed up, to his own satisfaction, +Bennington's ignorance of mining. That was an easy enough task. +Bennington did not even know what country-rock was. All he succeeded in +eliciting confirmed him in the impression that de Laney was sent to spy +on him. But why de Laney? Old Mizzou wagged his gray beard. And why spy +on him? What could the company want to know? He gave it up. One thing +alone was clear: this young man's understanding of his duties was very +simple. Bennington imagined he was expected to see certain assessment +work done (whatever that was), and was to find out what he could about +the value of the property.</p> + +<p>As a matter of sedulously concealed truth, he was really expected to do +nothing at all. The place had been made for him through Mr. de Laney's +influence, because he wanted to go West.</p> + +<p>"Now, my boy," Bishop, the mining capitalist, had said, when +Bennington had visited him in his New York office, "do you know +anything about mining?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," Bennington replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, that doesn't matter much. We don't expect to do anything in the +way of development. The case, briefly, is this: We've bought this +busted proposition of the people who were handling it, and have assumed +their debt. They didn't run it right. They had a sort of a wildcat +individual in charge of the thing, and he got contracts for sinking +shafts with all the turtlebacks out there, and then didn't pay for +them. Now, what we want you to do is this: First of all, you're to take +charge financially at that end of the line. That means paying the local +debts as we send you the money, and looking after whatever expenditures +may become necessary. Then you'll have to attend to the assessment +work. Do you know what assessment work is?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, in order to hold the various claims legally, the owners have to +do one hundred dollars' worth of work a year on each claim. If the +work isn't done, the claims can be 'jumped.' You'll have to hire the +men, buy the supplies, and see that the full amount is done. We have a +man out there named Davidson. You can rely on him, and he'll help you +out in all practical matters. He's a good enough practical miner, but +he's useless in bossing a job or handling money. Between you, you ought +to get along."</p> + +<p>"I'll try, anyway."</p> + +<p>"That's right. Then, another thing. You can put in your spare time +investigating what the thing is worth. I don't expect much from you in +that respect, for you haven't had enough experience; but do the best +you can. It'll be good practice, anyway. Hunt up Davidson; go over all +the claims; find out how the lead runs, and how it holds out; get +samples and ship them to me; investigate everything you can, and don't +be afraid to write when you're stuck."</p> + +<p>In other words, Bennington was to hold the ends of the reins while some +one else drove. But he did not know that. He felt his responsibility.</p> + +<p>As to the assessment work, Old Mizzou had already assured him there was +no immediate hurry; men were cheaper in the fall. As to investigating, +he started in on that at once. He and Davidson climbed down shafts, and +broke off ore, and worked the gold pan. It was fun.</p> + +<p>In the morning Bennington decided to work from seven until ten on +<i>Aliris</i>. Then for three hours he and Old Mizzou prospected. In the +afternoon the young man took a vacation and hunted Wild Western +adventures.</p> + +<p>It may as well be remarked here that Bennington knew all about the West +before he left home. Until this excursion he had never even crossed the +Alleghanies, but he thought he appreciated the conditions thoroughly. +This was because he was young. He could close his eyes and see the +cowboys scouring the plain. As a parenthesis it should be noted that +cowboys always scour the plain, just as sailors always scan the +horizon. He knew how the cowboys looked, because he had seen Buffalo +Bill's show; and he knew how they talked, because he had read accurate +authors of the school of Bret Harte. He could even imagine the +romantic mountain maidens.</p> + +<p>With his preconceived notions the country, in most particulars, tallied +interestingly. At first Bennington frequented the little town down the +draw. It answered fairly well to the story-book descriptions, but +proved a bit lively for him. The first day they lent him a horse. The +horse looked sleepy. It took him twenty minutes to get on the animal +and twenty seconds to fall off. There was an audience. They made him +purchase strange drinks at outlandish prices. After that they shot +holes all around his feet to induce him to dance. He had inherited an +obstinate streak from some of his forebears, and declined when it went +that far. They then did other things to him which were not pleasant. +Most of these pranks seemed to have been instigated by a laughing, +curly-haired young man named Fay. Fay had clear blue eyes, which seemed +always to mock you. He could think up more diabolical schemes in ten +minutes than the rest of the men in as many hours. Bennington came +shortly to hate this man Fay. His attentions had so much of the +gratuitous! For a number of days, even after the enjoyment of novelty +had worn off, the Easterner returned bravely to Spanish Gulch every +afternoon for the mail. It was a matter of pride with him. He did not +like to be bluffed out. But Fay was always there.</p> + +<p>"Tender <i>foot!</i>" the latter would shriek joyously, and bear down on the +shrinking de Laney.</p> + +<p>That would bring out the loafers. It all had to happen over again.</p> + +<p>Bennington hoped that this performance would cease in time. It never +did.</p> + +<p>By a mental process, unnecessary to trace here, he modified his first +views, and permitted Old Mizzou to get the mail. Spanish Gulch saw him +no more.</p> + +<p>After all, it was quite as good Western experience to wander in the +hills. He did not regret the other. In fact, as he cast in review his +research in Wild West literature, he perceived that the incidents of +his town visits were the proper thing. He would not have had them +different—to look back on. They were inspiring—to write home about. +He recognised all the types—the miner, the gambler, the +saloon-keeper, the bad man, the cowboy, the prospector—just as though +they had stepped living from the pages of his classics. They had the +true slouch; they used the picturesque language. The log cabins squared +with his ideas. The broncos even exceeded them.</p> + +<p>But now he had seen it all. There is no sense in draining an agreeable +cup to satiety. He was quite content to enjoy his rambles in the hills, +like the healthy youngster he was. But had he seen it all? On +reflection, he acknowledged he could not make this statement to himself +with a full consciousness of sincerity. One thing was lacking from the +preconceived picture his imagination had drawn. There had been no +Mountain Flowers. By that he meant girls.</p> + +<p>Every one knows what a Western girl is. She is a beautiful creature, +always, with clear, tanned skin, bright eyes, and curly hair. She wears +a Tam o' Shanter. She rides a horse. Also, she talks deliciously, in a +silver voice, about "old pards." Altogether a charming vision—in +books.</p> + +<p>This vision Bennington had not yet realized. The rest of the West came +up to specifications, but this one essential failed. In Spanish Gulch +he had, to be sure, encountered a number of girls. But they were +red-handed, big-boned, freckled-faced, rough-skinned, and there wasn't +a Tam o' Shanter in the lot. Plainly servants, Bennington thought. The +Mountain Flower must have gone on a visit. Come to think of it, there +never was more than one Mountain Flower to a town.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_III"></a><h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>BENNINGTON HUNTS FOR GOLD AND FINDS A KISS</h3> +<br> + +<p>One day Old Mizzou brought him a blue-print map.</p> + +<p>"This y'ar map," said he, spreading it out under his stubby fingers, +"shows the deestrict. I gets it of Fay, so you gains an idee of th' lay +of the land a whole lot. Them claims marked with a crost belongs to th' +Company. You kin take her and explore."</p> + +<p>This struck Bennington as an excellent idea. He sat down at the table +and counted the crosses. There were fourteen of them. The different +lodes were laid off in mathematically exact rectangles, running in many +directions. A few joined one another, but most lay isolated. Their +relative positions were a trifle confusing at first, but, after a +little earnest study, Bennington thought he understood them. He could +start with the Holy Smoke, just outside the door. The John Logan lay +beyond, at an obtuse angle. Then a jump of a hundred yards or so to the +southwest would bring him to the Crazy Horse. This he resolved to +locate, for it was said to be on the same "lode" as a big strike some +one had recently made. He picked up his rifle and set out.</p> + +<p>Now, a blue-print map maker has undoubtedly accurate ideas as to points +of the compass, and faultless proficiency in depicting bird's-eye +views, but he neglects entirely the putting in of various ups and down, +slants and windings of the country, which apparently twist the north +pole around to the east-south-east. You start due west on a bee line, +according to directions; after about ten feet you scramble over a +fallen tree, skirt a boulder, dip into a ravine, and climb a ledge. +Your starting point is out of sight behind you; your destination is, +Heaven knows where, in front. By the time you have walked six thousand +actual feet, which is as near as you can guess to fifteen hundred +theoretical level ones, your little blazed stake in a pile of stones is +likely to be almost anywhere within a liberal quarter of a mile. Then +it is guess-work. If the hill is pretty thickly staked out, the chase +becomes exciting. In the middle distance you see a post. You clamber +eagerly to it, only to find that it marks your neighbour's claim. You +have lost your standpoint of a moment ago, and must start afresh. In an +hour's time you have discovered every stake on the hill but the one you +want. In two hours' time you are staggering homeward a gibbering idiot. +Then you are brought back to profane sanity by falling at full length +over the very object of your search.</p> + +<p>Bennington was treated to full measure of this experience. He found the +John Logan lode without much difficulty, and followed its length with +less, for the simple reason that its course lay over the round brow of +a hill bare of trees. He also discovered the "Northeast Corner of the +Crazy Horse Lode" plainly marked on the white surface of a pine stake +braced upright in a pile of rocks. Thence he confidently paced south, +and found nothing. Next trip he came across pencilled directions +concerning the "Miner's Dream Lode." The time after he ran against the +"Golden Ball" and the "Golden Chain Lodes." Bennington reflected; his +mind was becoming a little heated.</p> + +<p>"It's because I went around those ledges and boulders," he said to +himself; "I got off the straight line. This time I'll take the straight +line and keep it."</p> + +<p>So he addressed himself to the surmounting of obstructions. Work of +that sort is not easy. At one point he lost his hold on a broad, steep +rock, and slid ungracefully to the foot of it, his elbows digging +frantically into the moss, and his legs straddled apart. As he struck +bottom, he imagined he heard a most delicious little laugh. So real was +the illusion that he gripped two handfuls of moss and looked about +sharply, but of course saw nothing. The laugh was repeated.</p> + +<p>He looked again, and so became aware of a Vision in pink, standing just +in front of a big pine above him on the hill and surveying him with +mischievous eyes.</p> + +<p>Surprise froze him, his legs straddled, his hat on one side, his mouth +open. The Vision began to pick its way down the hill, eyeing him the +while.</p> + +<p>That dancing scrutiny seemed to mesmerize him. He was enchanted to +perfect stillness, but he was graciously permitted to take in the +particulars of the girl's appearance. She was dainty. Every posture of +her slight figure was of an airy grace, as light and delicate as that +of a rose tendril swaying in the wind. Even when she tripped over a +loose rock, she caught her balance again with a pretty little uplift of +the hand. As she approached, slowly, and evidently not unwilling to +allow her charms full time in which to work, Bennington could see that +her face was delicately made; but as to the details he could not judge +clearly because of her mischievous eyes. They were large and wide and +clear, and of a most peculiar colour—a purple-violet, of the shade one +sometimes finds in flowers, but only in the flowers of a deep and shady +wood. In this wonderful colour—which seemed to borrow the richness of +its hue rather from its depth than from any pigment of its own, just as +beyond soundings the ocean changes from green to blue—an hundred moods +seem to rise slowly from within, to swim visible, even though the mere +expression of her face gave no sign of them. For instance, at the +present moment her features were composed to the utmost gravity. Yet in +her eyes bubbled gaiety and fun, as successive up-swellings of a +spring; or, rather, as the riffles of sunlight and wind, or the +pictured flight of birds across a pool whose surface alone is stirred.</p> + +<p>Bennington realized suddenly, with overwhelming fervency, that he +preferred to slide in solitude.</p> + +<p>The Vision in the starched pink gingham now poised above him like a +humming-bird over a flower. From behind her back she withdrew one hand. +In the hand was the missing claim stake.</p> + +<p>"Is this what you are looking for?" she inquired demurely.</p> + +<p>The mesmeric spell broke, and Bennington was permitted to babble +incoherencies.</p> + +<p>She stamped her foot.</p> + +<p>"Is this what you're looking for?" she persisted.</p> + +<p>Bennington's chaos had not yet crystallized to relevancy.</p> + +<p>"Wh-where did you get it?" he stammered again.</p> + +<p>"IS THIS WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR?" she demanded in very large capitals.</p> + +<p>The young man regained control of his faculties with an effort.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is!" he rejoined sharply; and then, with the instinct that +bids us appreciate the extent of our relief by passing an annoyance +along, "Don't you know it's a penal offence to disturb claim stakes?"</p> + +<p>He had suddenly discovered that he preferred to find claim stakes on +claims.</p> + +<p>The Vision's eyes opened wider.</p> + +<p>"It must be nice to know so much!" said she, in reverent admiration.</p> + +<p>Bennington flushed. As a de Laney, the girls he had known had always +taken him seriously. He disliked being made fun of.</p> + +<p>"This is nonsense," he objected, with some impatience. "I must know +where it came from."</p> + +<p>In the background of his consciousness still whirled the moil of his +wonder and bewilderment. He clung to the claim stake as a stable +object.</p> + +<p>The Vision looked straight at him without winking, and those wonderful +eyes filled with tears. Yet underneath their mist seemed to sparkle +little points of light, as wavelets through a vapour which veils the +surface of the sea. Bennington became conscious-stricken because of the +tears, and still he owned an uneasy suspicion that they were not real.</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry!" she said contritely, after a moment; "I thought I was +helping you so much! I found that stake just streaking it over the top +of the hill. It had got loose and was running away." The mist had +cleared up very suddenly, and the light-tipped sparkles of fun were +chasing each other rapidly, as though impelled by a lively breeze. "I +thought you'd be ever so grateful, and, instead of that, you scold me! +I don't believe I like you a bit!"</p> + +<p>She looked him over reflectively, as though making up her mind.</p> + +<p>Bennington laughed outright, and scrambled to his feet. "You are +absolutely incorrigible!" he exclaimed, to cover his confusion at his +change of face.</p> + +<p>Her eyes fairly danced.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a <i>lovely</i> word!" she cried rapturously. "What <i>does</i> it +mean? Something nice, or I'm sure you wouldn't have said it about me. +<i>Would</i> you?" The eyes suddenly became grave. "Oh, please tell me!" she +begged appealingly.</p> + +<p>Bennington was thrown into confusion at this, for he did not know +whether she was serious or not. He could do nothing but stammer and get +red, and think what a ridiculous ass he was making of himself. He might +have considered the help he was getting in that.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you needn't," she conceded, magnanimously, after a moment. +"Only, you ought not to say things about girls that you don't dare tell +them in plain language. If you will say nice things about me, you might +as well say them so I can understand them; only, I do think it's a +little early in our acquaintance."</p> + +<p>This cast Bennington still more in perplexity. He had a +pretty-well-defined notion that he was being ridiculed, but concerning +this, just a last grain of doubt remained. She rattled on.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said she impatiently, "why don't you say something? Why don't +you take this stick? I don't want it. Men are so stupid!"</p> + +<p>That last remark has been made many, many times, and yet it never fails +of its effect, which is at once to invest the speaker with daintiness +indescribable, and to thrust the man addressed into nether inferiority. +Bennington fell to its charm. He took the stake.</p> + +<p>"Where does it belong?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She pointed silently to a pile of stones. He deposited the stake in its +proper place, and returned to find her seated on the ground, plucking a +handful of the leaves of a little erect herb that grew abundantly in +the hollow. These she rubbed together and held to her face inside the +sunbonnet.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, anyway?" asked Bennington abruptly, as he returned.</p> + +<p>"D' you ever see this before?" she inquired irrelevantly, looking up +with her eyes as she leaned over the handful. "Good for colds. Makes +your nose feel all funny and prickly."</p> + +<p>She turned her hands over and began to drop the leaves one by one. +Bennington caught himself watching her with fascinated interest in +silence. He began to find this one of her most potent charms—the +faculty of translating into a grace so exquisite as almost to realize +the fabled poetry of motion, the least shrug of her shoulders, the +smallest crook of her finger, the slightest toss of her small, +well-balanced head. She looked up.</p> + +<p>"Want to smell?" she inquired, and held out her hands with a pretty +gesture.</p> + +<p>Not knowing what else to do, Bennington stepped forward obediently and +stooped over. The two little palms held a single crushed bit of the +herb in their cup. They were soft, pink little palms, all wrinkled, +like crumpled rose leaves. Bennington stooped to smell the herb; +instead, he kissed the palms.</p> + +<p>The girl sprang to her feet with one indignant motion and faced him. +The eyes now flashed blue flame, and Bennington for the first time +noticed what had escaped him before—that the forehead was broad and +thoughtful, and that above it the hair, instead of being blonde and +curly and sparkling with golden radiance, was of a peculiar wavy brown +that seemed sometimes full of light and sometimes lustreless and black, +according as it caught the direct rays of the sun or not. Then he +appreciated his offence.</p> + +<p>"Sir!" she exclaimed, and turned away with a haughty shoulder.</p> + +<p>"And we've never been introduced!" she said, half to herself, but her +face was now concealed, so that Bennington could not see she laughed. +She marched stiffly down the hill. Bennington turned to follow her, +although the action was entirely mechanical, and he had no definite +idea in doing so.</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare, sir!" she cried.</p> + +<p>So he did not dare.</p> + +<p>This vexed her for a moment. Then, having gone quite out of sight, she +sank down and laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"I didn't think he knew enough!" she said, with a final hysterical +chuckle.</p> + +<p>This first impression of the Mountain Flower, Bennington would have +been willing to acknowledge, was quite complicated enough, but he was +destined to further surprises.</p> + +<p>When he returned to the Holy Smoke camp he found Old Mizzou in earnest +conversation with a peculiar-looking stranger, whose hand he was +promptly requested to shake.</p> + +<p>The stranger was a tall, scraggly individual, dressed in the usual +flannel shirt and blue jeans, the latter tucked into rusty cowhide +boots. Bennington was interested in him because he was so phenomenally +ugly. From the collar of his shirt projected a lean, sinewy neck, on +which the too-abundant skin rolled and wrinkled in a dark red, +wind-roughened manner particularly disagreeable to behold. The neck +supported a small head. The face was wizened and tanned to a dark +mahogany colour. It was ornamented with a grizzled goatee.</p> + +<p>The man smoked a stub pipe. His remarks were emphasized by the gestures +of a huge and gnarled pair of hands.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lawton is from Old Mizzou, too, afore he moved to Illinoy," +commented Davidson. One became aware, from the loving tones in which +he pronounced the two words, whence he derived his sobriquet.</p> + +<p>Lawton expressed the opinion that Chillicothe, of that State, was the +finest town on top of earth.</p> + +<p>Bennington presumed it might be, and then opportunely bethought him of +a bottle of Canadian Club, which, among other necessary articles, he +had brought with him from New York. This he produced. The old +Missourians brightened; Davidson went into the cabin after glasses and +a corkscrew. He found the corkscrew all right, but apparently had some +difficulty in regard to the glasses. They could hear him calling +vociferously for Mrs. Arthur. Mrs. Arthur had gone to the spring for +water. In a few moments Old Mizzou appeared in the doorway exceedingly +red of face.</p> + +<p>"Consarn them women folks!" he grumbled, depositing the tin cups on the +porch. "They locks up an' conceals things most damnable. Ain't a +tumbler in th' place."</p> + +<p>"These yar is all right," assured Lawton consolingly, picking up one of +the cups and examining the bottom of it with great care.</p> + +<p>"I reckon they'll hold the likker, anyhow," agreed Davidson.</p> + +<p>They passed the bottle politely to de Laney, and the latter helped +himself. For his part, he was glad the tin cups had been necessary, for +it enabled him to conceal the smallness of his dose. Lawton filled his +own up to the brim; Davidson followed suit.</p> + +<p>"Here's how!" observed the latter, and the two old turtlebacks drank +the raw whisky down, near a half pint of it, as though it had been so +much milk.</p> + +<p>Bennington fairly gasped with astonishment. "Don't you ever take any +water?" he asked.</p> + +<p>They turned slowly. Old Mizzou looked him in the eye with glimmering +reproach.</p> + +<p>"Not, if th' whisky's good, sonny," said he impressively.</p> + +<p>"Wall," commented Lawton, after a pause, "that is a good drink. Reckon +I must be goin'."</p> + +<p>"Stay t' grub!" urged Old Mizzou heartily.</p> + +<p>"Folks waitin'. Remember!"</p> + +<p>They looked at Bennington and chuckled a little, to that young man's +discomfort.</p> + +<p>"Lawton's a damn fine fella'," said Old Mizzou with emphasis. +Bennington thought, with a shudder, of the loose-skinned, turkey-red +neck, and was silent.</p> + +<p>After supper Bennington and Old Mizzou played cribbage by the light of +a kerosene lamp.</p> + +<p>"While I was hunting claims this afternoon," said the Easterner +suddenly, "I ran across a mighty pretty girl."</p> + +<p>"Yas?" observed Old Mizzou with indifference. "What fer a gal was it?"</p> + +<p>"She didn't look as if she belonged around here. She was a slender +girl, very pretty, with a pink dress on."</p> + +<p>"Ain't no female strangers yar-abouts. Blue eyes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"An' ha'r that sometimes looks black an' sometimes yaller-brown?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the one all right. Who is she?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that!" said Old Mizzou with slight interest, "that's Bill +Lawton's girl. Live's down th' gulch. He's th' fella' that was yar +afore grub," he explained.</p> + +<p>For a full minute Bennington stared at the cards in his hand. The +patriarch became impatient.</p> + +<p>"Yore play, sonny," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you know the one I mean," returned Bennington slowly. +"She's a girl with a little mouth and a nose that is tipped up just a +trifle----"</p> + +<p>"Snub!" interrupted Old Mizzou, with some impatience. "Yas, I knows. +Same critter. Only one like her in th' Hills. Sasshays all over th' +scenery, an' don't do nothin' but sit on rocks."</p> + +<p>"So she's the daughter of that man!" said Bennington, still more +slowly.</p> + +<p>"Wall, so Mis' Lawton sez," chuckled Mizzou.</p> + +<p>That night Bennington lay awake for some time. He had discovered the +Mountain Flower; the story-book West was complete at last. But he had +offended his discovery. What was the etiquette in such a case? Back +East he would have felt called upon to apologize for being rude. Then, +at the thought of apologizing to a daughter of that turkey-necked old +whisky-guzzler he had to laugh.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_IV"></a><h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE SUN FAIRY</h3> +<br> + +<p>The next afternoon, after the day's writing and prospecting were +finished, Bennington resolved to go deer hunting. He had skipped +thirteen chapters of his work to describe the heroine, Rhoda. She had +wonderful eyes, and was, I believe, dressed in a garment whose colour +was pink.</p> + +<p>"Keep yore moccasins greased," Old Mizzou advised at parting; by which +he meant that the young man was to step softly.</p> + +<p>This he found to be difficult. His course lay along the top of the +ridge where the obstructions were many. There were outcrops, boulders, +ravines, broken twigs, old leaves, and dikes, all of which had to be +surmounted or avoided. They were all aggravating, but the dikes +possessed some intellectual interest which the others lacked.</p> + +<p>A dike, be it understood, is a hole in the earth made visible. That is +to say, in old days, when mountains were much loftier than they are +now, various agencies brought it to pass that they split and cracked +and yawned down to the innermost cores of their being in such hideous +fashion that chasms and holes of great depth and perpendicularity were +opened in them. Thereupon the interior fires were released, and these, +vomiting up a vast supply of molten material, filled said chasms and +holes to the very brim. The molten material cooled into fire-hardened +rock. The rains descended and the snows melted. Under their erosive +influence the original mountains were cut down somewhat, but the +erstwhile molten material, being, as we have said, fire-hardened, +wasted very little, or not at all, and, as a consequence, stands forth +above its present surroundings in exact mould of the ancient cracks or +holes.</p> + +<p>Now, some dikes are long and narrow, others are short and wide, and +still others are nearly round. All, however, are highest points, and, +head and shoulders above the trees, look abroad over the land.</p> + +<p>When Bennington came to one of these dikes he was forced to pick his +way carefully in a detour around its base. Between times he found +hobnails much inclined to click against unforeseen stones. The broken +twig came to possess other than literary importance. After a little his +nerves asserted themselves. Unconsciously he relaxed his attention and +began to think.</p> + +<p>The subject of his thoughts was the girl he had seen just twenty-four +hours before. He caught himself remembering little things he had not +consciously noticed at the time, as, for instance, the strange contrast +between the mischief in her eyes and the austerity of her brow, or the +queer little fashion she had of winking rapidly four or five times, and +then opening her eyes wide and looking straight into the depths of his +own. He considered it quite a coincidence that he had unconsciously +returned to the spot on which they had met the day before—the rich +Crazy Horse lode.</p> + +<p>As though in answer to his recognition of this fact, her voice suddenly +called to him from above.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, little boy!" it cried.</p> + +<p>He felt at once that he was pleased at the encounter.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" he answered; "where are you?"</p> + +<p>"Right here."</p> + +<p>He looked up, and then still up, until, at the flat top of the +castellated dike that stood over him, he caught a gleam of pink. The +contrast between it, the blue of the sky, and the dark green of the +trees, was most beautiful and unusual. Nature rarely uses pink, except +in sunsets and in flowers. Bennington thought pleasedly how every +impression this girl made upon him was one of grace or beauty or bright +colour. The gleam of pink disappeared, and a great pine cone, heavy +with pitch, came buzzing through the air to fall at his feet.</p> + +<p>"That's to show you where I am," came the clear voice. "You ought to +feel honoured. I've only three cones left."</p> + +<p>The dike before which Bennington had paused was one of the round +variety. It rose perhaps twenty feet above the <i>débris</i> at its base, +sheer, gray, its surface almost intact except for an insignificant +number of frost fissures. From its base the hill fell rapidly, so that, +even from his own inferior elevation, he was enabled to look over the +tops of trees standing but a few rods away from him. He could see that +the summit of this dike was probably nearly flat, and he surmised that, +once up there, one would become master of a pretty enough little +plateau on which to sit; but his careful circumvallation could discover +no possible method of ascent. The walls afforded no chance for a +squirrel's foothold even. He began to doubt whether he had guessed +aright as to the girl's whereabouts, and began carefully to examine the +tops of the trees. Discovering nothing in them, he cast another puzzled +glance at the top of the dike. A pair of violet eyes was scrutinizing +him gravely over the edge of it.</p> + +<p>"How in the world did you get up there?" he cried.</p> + +<p>"Flew," she explained, with great succinctness.</p> + +<p>"Look out you don't fall," he warned hastily; her attitude was +alarming.</p> + +<p>"I am lying flat," said she, "and I can't fall."</p> + +<p>"You haven't told me how you got up. I want to come up, too."</p> + +<p>"How do you know I want you?"</p> + +<p>"I have such a lot of things to say!" cried Bennington, rather at a +loss for a valid reason, but feeling the necessity keenly.</p> + +<p>"Well, sit down and say them. There's a big flat rock just behind you."</p> + +<p>This did not suit him in the least. "I wish you'd let me up," he begged +petulantly. "I can't say what I want from here."</p> + +<p>"I can hear you quite well. You'll have to talk from there, or else +keep still."</p> + +<p>"That isn't fair!" persisted the young man, adopting a tone of +argument. "You're a girl----"</p> + +<p>"Stop there! You are wrong to start with. Did you think that a creature +who could fly to the tops of the rocks was a mere girl? Not at all."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" asked the easily bewildered Bennington.</p> + +<p>"What I say. I'm not a girl."</p> + +<p>"What are you then?"</p> + +<p>"A sun fairy."</p> + +<p>"A sun fairy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; a real live one. See that cloud over toward the sun? The nice +downy one, I mean. That's my couch. I sleep on it all night. I've got +it near the sun so that it will warm up, you see."</p> + +<p>"I see," cried Bennington. He could recognise foolery—provided it were +ticketed plainly enough. He sat down on the flat rock before indicated, +and clasped his knee with his hands, prepared to enjoy more. "Is that +your throne up there, Sun Fairy?" he asked. She had withdrawn her head +from sight.</p> + +<p>"It is," her voice came down to him in grave tones.</p> + +<p>"It must be a very nice one."</p> + +<p>"The nicest throne you ever saw."</p> + +<p>"I never saw one, but I've often heard that thrones were unpleasant +things."</p> + +<p>"I am sitting, foolish mortal," said she, in tones of deep +commiseration, "on a soft, thick cushion of moss—much more +comfortable, I imagine, than hard, flat rocks. And the nice warm sun +is shining on me—it must be rather chilly in the woods to-day. And +there is a breeze blowing from the Big Horn—old rocks are always damp +and stuffy in the shade. And I am looking away out over the Hills—I +hope some people enjoy the sight of piles of quartzite."</p> + +<p>"Cruel sun fairy!" cried Bennington. "Why do you tantalize me so with +the delights from which you debar me? What have I done?"</p> + +<p>There was a short silence.</p> + +<p>"Can't you think of anything you've done?" asked the voice, +insinuatingly.</p> + +<p>Bennington's conscience-stricken memory stirred. It did not seem so +ridiculous, under the direct charm of the fresh young voice that came +down through the summer air from above, like a dove's note from a +treetop, to apologize to Lawton's girl. The incongruity now was in +forcing into this Arcadian incident anything savouring of +conventionality at all. It had been so idyllic, this talk of the sun +fairy and the cloud; so like a passage from an old book of legends, +this dainty episode in the great, strong, Western breezes, under the +great, strong, Western sky. Everything should be perfect, not to be +blamed.</p> + +<p>"Do sun fairies accept apologies?" he asked presently, in a subdued +voice.</p> + +<p>"They might."</p> + +<p>"This particular sun fairy is offered one by a man who is sorry."</p> + +<p>"Is it a good big one?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, yes."</p> + +<p>The head appeared over the edge of the rock, inspected him gravely for +a moment, and was withdrawn.</p> + +<p>"Then it is accepted," said the voice.</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" he replied sincerely. "And now are you going to let down +your rope ladder, or whatever it is? I really want to talk to you."</p> + +<p>"You are so persistent!" cried the petulant voice, "and so foolish! It +is like a man to spoil things by questionings!"</p> + +<p>He suddenly felt the truth of this. One can not talk every day to a sun +fairy, and the experience can never be repeated. He settled back on the +rock.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, Sun Fairy!" he cried again. "Rope ladders, indeed, to one +who has but to close her eyes and she finds herself on a downy cloud +near the sun. My mortality blinded me!"</p> + +<p>"Now you are a nice boy," she approved more contentedly, "and as a +reward you may ask me one question."</p> + +<p>"All right," he agreed; and then, with instinctive tact, "What do you +see up there?"</p> + +<p>He could hear her clap her hands with delight, and he felt glad that he +had followed his impulse to ask just this question instead of one more +personal and more in line with his curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Listen!" she began. "I see pines, many pines, just the tops of them, +and they are all waving in the breeze. Did you ever see trees from on +top? They are quite different. And out from the pines come great round +hills made all of stone. I think they look like skulls. Then there are +breathless descents where the pines fall away. Once in a while a little +white road flashes out."</p> + +<p>"Yes," urged Bennington, as the voice paused. "And what else do you +see?"</p> + +<p>"I see the prairie, too," she went on half dreamily. "It is brown now, +but the green is beginning to shine through it just a very little. And +out beyond there is a sparkle. That is the Cheyenne. And beyond that +there is something white, and that is the Bad Lands."</p> + +<p>The voice broke off with a happy little laugh.</p> + +<p>Bennington saw the scene as though it lay actually spread out before +him. There was something in the choice of the words, clearcut, +decisive, and descriptive; but more in the exquisite modulations of the +voice, adding here a tint, there a shade to the picture, and casting +over the whole that poetic glamour which, rarely, is imitated in +grosser materials by Nature herself, when, just following sunset, she +suffuses the landscape with a mellow afterglow.</p> + +<p>The head, sunbonneted, reappeared perked inquiringly sideways.</p> + +<p>"Hello, stranger!" it called with a nasal inflection, "how air ye? Do +y' think minin' is goin' t' pan out well this yar spring?" Then she +caught sight of his weapon. "What are you going to shoot?" she asked +with sudden interest.</p> + +<p>"I thought I might see a deer."</p> + +<p>"Deer! hoh!" she cried in lofty scorn, reassuming her nasal tone. "You +is shore a tenderfoot! Don' you-all know that blastin' scares all th' +deer away from a minin' camp?"</p> + +<p>Bennington looked confused. "No, I hadn't thought of that," he +confessed stoutly enough.</p> + +<p>"I kind of like to shoot!" said she, a little wistfully. "What sort of +a gun is it?"</p> + +<p>"A Savage smokeless," answered Bennington perfunctorily.</p> + +<p>"One of the thirty-calibres?" inquired the sunbonnet with new interest.</p> + +<p>"Yes," gasped Bennington, astonished at so much feminine knowledge of +firearms.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'd like to see it. I never saw any of those. May I shoot it, just +once?"</p> + +<p>"Of course you may. More than once. Shall I come up?"</p> + +<p>"No. I'll come down. You sit right still on that rock."</p> + +<p>The sunbonnet disappeared, and there ensued a momentary commotion on +the other side of the dike. In an instant the girl came around the +corner, picking her way over the loose blocks of stone. With the +finger-tips of either hand she held the pink starched skirt up, +displaying a neat little foot in a heavy little shoe. Diagonally across +the skirt ran two irregular brown stains. She caught him looking at +them.</p> + +<p>"Naughty, naughty!" said she, glancing down at them with a grimace.</p> + +<p>She dropped her skirt, and stood up beside him with a pretty shake of +the shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Now let's see it," she begged.</p> + +<p>She examined the weapon with much interest, throwing down and back the +lever in a manner that showed she was accustomed at least to the +old-style arm.</p> + +<p>"How light it is!" she commented, squinting through the sights. +"Doesn't it kick awfully?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit. Smokeless powder, you know."</p> + +<p>"Of course. What'll we shoot at?"</p> + +<p>Bennington fumbled in his pockets and produced an envelope.</p> + +<p>"How's this?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She seized it and ran like an antelope—with the same <i>gliding</i> +motion—to a tree about thirty paces distant, on which she pinned the +bit of paper. They shot. Bennington hit the paper every time. The girl +missed it once. At this she looked a little vexed.</p> + +<p>"You are either very rude or very sincere," was her comment.</p> + +<p>"You're the best shot I ever saw----"</p> + +<p>"Now don't dare say 'for a girl!'" she interrupted quickly. "What's the +prize?"</p> + +<p>"Was this a match?"</p> + +<p>"Of course it was, and I insist on paying up."</p> + +<p>Bennington considered.</p> + +<p>"I think I would like to go to the top of the rock there, and see the +pines, and the skull-stones, and the prairies."</p> + +<p>She glanced toward him, knitting her brows. "It is my very own," she +said doubtfully. "I've never let anybody go up there before."</p> + +<p>One of the diminutive chipmunks of the hills scampered out from a cleft +in the rocks and perched on a moss-covered log, chattering eagerly and +jerking his tail in the well-known manner of chipmunks.</p> + +<p>"Oh, see! see!" she cried, all excitement in a moment. She seized the +rifle, and taking careful aim, fired. The chattering ceased; the +chipmunk disappeared.</p> + +<p>Bennington ran to the log. Behind it lay the little animal. The long +steel-jacketed bullet had just grazed the base of its brain. He picked +it up gently in the palm of his hand and contemplated it.</p> + +<p>It was such a diminutive beast, not as large as a good-sized rat, quite +smaller than our own fence-corner chipmunks of the East. It's little +sides were daintily striped, its little whiskers were as perfect as +those of the great squirrels in the timber bottom. In its pouches were +the roots of pine cones. Bennington was not a sentimentalist, but the +incident, against the background of the light-hearted day, seemed to +him just a little pathetic. Something of the feeling showed in his +eyes.</p> + +<p>The girl, who had drawn near, looked from him to the dead chipmunk, and +back again. Then she burst suddenly into tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh, cruel, cruel!" she sobbed. "What did I do it for? What did you +<i>let</i> me do it for?"</p> + +<p>Her distress was so keen that the young man hastened to relieve it.</p> + +<p>"There," he reassured her lightly, "don't do that! Why, you are a great +hunter. You got your game. And it was a splendid shot. We'll have him +skinned when we get back home, and we'll cure the skin, and you can +make something out of it—a spectacle case," he suggested at random. "I +know how you feel," he went on, to give her time to recover, "but all +hunters feel that way occasionally. See, I'll put him just here until +we get ready to go home, where nothing can get him."</p> + +<p>He deposited the squirrel in the cleft of a rock, quite out of sight, +and stood back as though pleased. "There, that's fine!" he concluded.</p> + +<p>With one of those instantaneous transitions, which seemed so natural to +her, and yet which appeared to reach not at all to her real nature, she +had changed from an aspect of passionate grief to one of solemn +inquiry. Bennington found her looking at him with the soul brimming to +the very surface of her great eyes.</p> + +<p>"I think you may come up on my rock," she said simply after a moment.</p> + +<p>They skirted the base of the dike together until they had reached the +westernmost side. There Bennington was shown the means of ascent, which +he had overlooked before because of his too close examination of the +cliff itself. At a distance of about twenty feet from the dike grew a +large pine tree, the lowest branch of which extended directly over the +little plateau and about a foot above it. Next to the large pine stood +two smaller saplings side by side and a few inches apart. These had +been converted into a ladder by the nailing across of rustic rounds.</p> + +<p>"That's how I get up," explained the girl. "Now you go back around the +corner again, and when I'm ready I'll call."</p> + +<p>Bennington obeyed. In a few moments he heard again the voice in the air +summoning him to approach and climb.</p> + +<p>He ascended the natural ladder easily, but when within six or eight +feet of the large branch that reached across to the dike, the smaller +of the two saplings ceased, and so, naturally, the ladder terminated.</p> + +<p>"Hi!" he called, "how did you get up this?"</p> + +<p>He looked across the intervening space expectantly, and then, to his +surprise, he observed that the girl was blushing furiously.</p> + +<p>"I—I," stammered a small voice after a moment's hesitation, "I guess +I—<i>shinned</i>!"</p> + +<p>A light broke across Bennington's mind as to the origin of the two dark +streaks on the gown, and he laughed. The girl eyed him reproachfully +for a moment or so; then she too began to laugh in an embarrassed +manner. Whereupon Bennington laughed the harder. He shinned up the +tree, to find that an ingenious hand rope had been fitted above the +bridge limb, so that the crossing of the short interval to the rock was +a matter of no great difficulty. In another instant he stood upon the +top of the dike.</p> + +<p>It was, as he had anticipated, nearly flat. Under the pine branch, +which might make a very good chair back, grew a thick cushion of moss. +The one tree broke the freedom of the eye's sweep toward the west, but +in all other directions it was uninterrupted. As the girl had said, the +tops of pines alone met the view, miles on miles of them, undulating, +rising, swelling, breaking against the barrier of a dike, or lapping +the foot of a great round boulder-mountain. Here and there a darker +spot suggested a break for a mountain peak; rarely a fleck of white +marked a mountain road. Back of them all—ridge, mountain, cavernous +valley—towered old Harney, sun-browned, rock-diademed, a few wisps of +cloud streaming down the wind from his brow, locks heavy with the age +of the great Manitou whom he was supposed to represent. Eastward, the +prairie like a peaceful sea. Above, the alert sky of the west. And +through all the air a humming—vast, murmurous, swelling—as the +mountain breeze touched simultaneously with strong hand the chords, not +of one, but a thousand pine harps.</p> + +<p>Bennington drew in a deep breath, and looked about in all directions. +The girl watched him.</p> + +<p>"Ah! it is beautiful!" he murmured at last with a half sigh, and looked +again.</p> + +<p>She seized his hand eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad you said that—and no more than that!" she cried. "I +feel the sun fairy can make you welcome now."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_V"></a><h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>THE SPIRIT MOUNTAIN</h3> +<br> + +<p>"From now on," said the girl, shaking out her skirts before sitting +down, "I am going to be a mystery."</p> + +<p>"You are already," replied Bennington, for the first time aware that +such was the fact.</p> + +<p>"No fencing. I have a plain business proposition to make. You and I are +going to be great friends. I can see that now."</p> + +<p>"I hope so."</p> + +<p>"And you, being a—well, an open-minded young man" (Now what does she +mean by that? thought Bennington), "will be asking all about myself. I +am going to tell you nothing. I am going to be a mystery."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure----"</p> + +<p>"No, you're not sure of anything, young man. Now I'll tell you this: +that I am living down the gulch with my people."</p> + +<p>"I know—Mr. Lawton's."</p> + +<p>She looked at him a moment. "Exactly. If you were to walk straight +ahead—not out in the air, of course—you could see the roof of the +house. Now, after we know each other better, the natural thing for you +to do will be to come and see me at my house, won't it?"</p> + +<p>Bennington agreed that it would.</p> + +<p>"Well, you mustn't."</p> + +<p>Bennington expressed his astonishment.</p> + +<p>"I will explain a very little. In a month occurs the Pioneer's Picnic +at Rapid. You don't know what the Pioneer's Picnic is? Ignorant boy! +It's our most important event of the year. Well, until that time I am +going to try an experiment. I am going to see if—well, I'll tell you; +I am going to try an experiment on a man, and the man is you, and I'll +explain the whole thing to you after the Pioneer's Picnic, and not a +moment before. Aren't you curious?"</p> + +<p>"I am indeed," Bennington assured her sincerely.</p> + +<p>She took on a small air of tyranny. "Now understand me. I mean what I +say. If you want to see me again, you must do as I tell you. You must +take me as I am, and you must mind me."</p> + +<p>Bennington cast a fleeting wonder over the sublime self-confidence +which made this girl so certain he would care to see her again. Then, +with a grip at the heart, he owned that the self-confidence was well +founded.</p> + +<p>"All right," he assented meekly.</p> + +<p>"Good!" she cried, with a gleam of mischief. "Behold me! Old Bill +Lawton's gal! If you want to be pards, put her thar!"</p> + +<p>"And so you are a girl after all, and no sun fairy," smiled Bennington +as he "put her thar."</p> + +<p>"My cloud has melted," she replied quietly, pointing toward the brow of +Harney.</p> + +<p>They chatted of small things for a time. Bennington felt intuitively +that there was something a little strange about this girl, something a +little out of the ordinary, something he had never been conscious of in +any other girl. Yet he could never seize the impression and examine it. +It was always just escaping; just taking shape to the point of +visibility, and then melting away again; just rising in the +modulations of her voice to a murmur that the ear thought to seize as +a definite chord, and then dying into a hundred other cadences. He +tried to catch it in her eyes, where so much else was to be seen. +Sometimes he perceived its influence, but never itself. It passed as a +shadow in the lower deeps, as though the feather mass of a great sea +growth had lifted slowly on an undercurrent, and then as slowly had +sunk back to its bed, leaving but the haunting impression of something +shapeless that had darkened the hue of the waters. It was most like a +sadness that had passed. Perhaps it was merely an unconscious trick of +thought or manner.</p> + +<p>After a time she asked him his first name, and he told her.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know your's too, Miss Lawton," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't call me Miss Lawton," she cried with sudden +petulance.</p> + +<p>"Why, certainly not, if you don't want me to, but what am I to call +you?"</p> + +<p>"Do you know," she confided with a pretty little gesture, "I have +always disliked my real name. It's ugly and horrid. I've often wished +I were a heroine in a book, and then I could have a name I really +liked. Now here's a chance. I'm going to let you get up one for me, but +it must be pretty, and we'll have it all for our very own."</p> + +<p>"I don't quite see----" objected the still conventional de Laney.</p> + +<p>"Your wits, your wits, haven't you any wits at <i>all</i>?" she cried with +impatience over his unresponsiveness.</p> + +<p>"Well, let me see. It isn't easy to do a thing like that on the spur of +the moment, Sun Fairy. A fairy's a fay, isn't it? I might call you +Fay."</p> + +<p>"Fay," she repeated in a startled tone.</p> + +<p>Bennington remembered that this was the name of the curly-haired young +man who had lent him the bucking horse, and frowned.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't believe I like that," he recanted hastily.</p> + +<p>"Take time and think about it," she suggested.</p> + +<p>"I think of one that would be appropriate," he said after some little +time. "It is suggested by that little bird there. It is Phoebe."</p> + +<p>"Do you think it is appropriate," she objected. "A Phoebe bird or a +Phoebe girl always seemed to me to be demure and quiet and thoughtful +and sweet-voiced and fond of dim forests, while I am a frivolous, +laughing, sunny individual who likes the open air and doesn't care for +shadows at all."</p> + +<p>"Yet I feel it is appropriate," he insisted. He paused and went on a +little timidly in the face of his new experience in giving expression +to the more subtle feelings. "I don't know whether I can express it or +not. You are laughing and sunny, as you say, but there is something in +you like the Phoebe bird just the same. It is like those cloud +shadows." He pointed out over the mountains. Overhead a number of +summer clouds were winging their way from the west, casting on the +earth those huge irregular shadows which sweep across it so swiftly, +yet with such dignity; so rushingly, and yet so harmlessly. "The hills +are sunny and bright enough, and all at once one of the shadows crosses +them, and it is dark. Then in another moment it is bright again."</p> + +<p>"And do you really see that in me?" she asked curiously. "You are a +dear boy," she continued, looking at him for some moments with +reflective eyes. "It won't do though," she said, rising at last. "It's +too 'fancy.'"</p> + +<p>"I don't know then," he confessed with some helplessness.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what I've always <i>wanted</i> to be called," said she, "ever +since I was a little girl. It is 'Mary.'"</p> + +<p>"Mary!" he cried, astonished. "Why, it is such a common name."</p> + +<p>"It is a beautiful name," she asserted. "Say it over. Aren't the +syllables soft and musical and caressing? It is a lovely name. Why I +remember," she went on vivaciously, "a girl who was named Mary, and who +didn't like it. When she came to our school she changed it, but she +didn't dare to break it to the family all at once. The first letter +home she signed herself 'Mae.' Her father wrote back, 'My dear +daughter, if the name of the mother of Jesus isn't good enough for you, +come home.'" She laughed at the recollection.</p> + +<p>"Then you have been away to school?" asked the young man.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she replied shortly.</p> + +<p>She adroitly led him to talk of himself. He told her naively of New +York and tennis, of brake parties and clubs, and even afternoon teas +and balls, all of which, of course, interested a Western girl +exceedingly. In this it so happened that his immaturity showed more +plainly than before. He did not boast openly, but he introduced +extraneous details important in themselves. He mentioned knowing +Pennington the painter, and Brookes the writer, merely in a casual +fashion, but with just the faintest flourish. It somehow became known +that his family had a crest, that his position was high; in short, that +he was a de Laney on both sides. He liked to tell it to this girl, +because it was evidently fresh and new to her, and because in the +presence of her inexperience in these matters he gained a confidence in +himself which he had never dared assume before.</p> + +<p>She looked straight in front of her and listened, throwing in a +comment now and then to assist the stream of his talk. At last, when he +fell silent, she reached swiftly out and patted his cheek with her +hand.</p> + +<p>"You are a dear big <i>boy</i>," she said quietly. "But I like it—oh, so +much!"</p> + +<p>From the tree tops below the clear warble of the purple finch +proclaimed that under the fronds twilight had fallen. The vast green +surface of the hills was streaked here and there with irregular peaks +of darkness dwindling eastward. The sun was nearly down.</p> + +<p>A sudden gloom blotted out the fretwork of the pine shadows that had, +during the latter part of the afternoon, lain athwart the rock. They +looked up startled.</p> + +<p>The shadow of Harney had crept out to them, and, even as they looked, +it stole on, cat-like, across the lower ridges toward the East. One +after another the rounded hills changed hue as it crossed them. For a +moment it lingered in the tangle of woods at the outermost edge, and +then without further pause glided out over the prairie. They watched it +fascinated. The sparkle was quenched in the Cheyenne; the white gleam +of the Bad Lands became a dull gray, scarce distinguishable from the +gray of the twilight. Though a single mysterious cleft a long yellow +bar pointed down across the plains, paused at the horizon, and slowly +lifted into the air. The mountain shadow followed it steadily up into +the sky, growing and growing against the dullness of the east, until at +last over against them in the heavens was the huge phantom of a +mountain, infinitely greater, infinitely grander than any mountain ever +seen by mortal eyes, and lifting higher and higher, commanded upward by +that single wand of golden light. Then suddenly the wand was withdrawn +and the ghost mountain merged into the yellow afterglow of evening.</p> + +<p>The girl had watched it breathless. At its dissolution she seized the +young man excitedly by the arm.</p> + +<p>"The Spirit Mountain!" she cried. "I have never seen it before; and now +I see it—with you."</p> + +<p>She looked at him with startled eyes.</p> + +<p>"With you," she repeated.</p> + +<p>"What is it? I don't understand."</p> + +<p>She did not seem to hear his question.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he asked again.</p> + +<p>"Why—nothing." She caught her breath and recovered command of herself +somewhat. "That is, it is just an old legend that I have often heard, +and it startled me for a minute."</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me the legend?"</p> + +<p>"Not now; some time. We must go now, for it will soon be dark."</p> + +<p>They wandered along the ridge toward Deerfoot Gulch in silence. She had +taken her sunbonnet off, and was enjoying the cool of the evening. He +carried the rifle over the crook of his arm, and watched her pensive +face. The poor little chipmunk lay stiffening in the cleft of the rock, +forgotten. The next morning a prying jay discovered him and carried him +away. He was only a little chipmunk after all—a very little +chipmunk—and nobody and nothing missed him in all the wide world, not +even his mate and his young, for mercifully grief in the animal world +is generally short-lived where tragedies are frequent. His life meant +little. His death----</p> + +<p>At the dip of the gulch they paused.</p> + +<p>"I live just down there," she said, "and now, good-night."</p> + +<p>"Mayn't I take you home?"</p> + +<p>"Remember your promise."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well."</p> + +<p>She looked at him seriously. "I am going to ask you to do what I have +never asked any man before," she said slowly—"to meet me. I want you +to come to the rock to-morrow afternoon. I want to hear more about New +York."</p> + +<p>"Of course I'll come," he agreed delightedly. "I feel as if I had known +you years already."</p> + +<p>They said good-bye. She walked a few steps irresolutely down the +hillside, and then, with a sudden impulsive movement, returned. She +lifted her face gravely, searchingly to his.</p> + +<p>"I like you," said she earnestly. "You have kind eyes," and was gone +down through the graceful alder saplings.</p> + +<p>Bennington stood and watched the swaying of the leaf tops that marked +her progress until she emerged into the lower gulch. There she turned +and looked back toward the ridge, but apparently could not see him, +though he waved his hand. The next instant Jim Fay strolled into the +"park" from the direction of Lawton's cabin. Bennington saw her spring +to meet him, holding out both hands, and then the two strolled back +down the gulch talking earnestly, their heads close together.</p> + +<p>Why should he care? "Mary, Mary, Mary!" he cried within himself as he +hurried home. And in remote burial grounds the ancient de Laneys on +both sides turned over in their lead-lined coffins.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_VI"></a><h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>BENNINGTON AS A MAN OF BUSINESS</h3> +<br> + +<p>That evening Old Mizzou returned from town with a watery eye and a mind +that ran to horses.</p> + +<p>"He is shore a fine cayuse," he asserted with extreme impressiveness. +"He is one of them broncs you jest <i>loves</i>. An' he's jes 's cheap! I +likes you a lot, sonny; I deems you as a face-card shore, an' ef any +one ever tries fer to climb yore hump, you jest calls on pore Old +Mizzou an' he mingles in them troubles immediate. You must have that +cayuse an' go scoutin' in th' hills, yo' shore must! Ol' man +Davidson'll do th' work fer ye, but ye shore must scout. 'Taint healthy +not t' git exercise on a cayuse. It shorely ain't! An' you must git t' +know these yar hills, you must. They is beautiful an' picturesque, and +is full of scenery. When you goes back East, you wants to know all +about 'em. I wouldn't hev you go back East without knowin' all about +'em for anythin' in the worl', I likes ye thet much!"</p> + +<p>Old Mizzou paused to wipe away a sympathetic tear with a rather +uncertain hand.</p> + +<p>"Y' wants to start right off too, thet's th' worst of it, so's t' see +'em all afore you goes, 'cause they is lots of hills and I'm 'feared +you won't stay long, sonny; I am that! I has my ideas these yar claims +is no good, I has fer a fact, and they won't need no one here long, and +then we'll lose ye, sonny, so you mus' shore hev that cayuse."</p> + +<p>Old Mizzou rambled on in like fashion most of the evening, to +Bennington's great amusement, and, though next morning he was quite +himself again, he still clung to the idea that Bennington should +examine the pony.</p> + +<p>"He is a fine bronc, fer shore," he claimed, "an' you'd better git +arter him afore some one else gits him."</p> + +<p>As Bennington had for some time tentatively revolved in his mind the +desirability of something to ride, this struck him as being a good +idea. All Westerners had horses—in the books. So he abandoned +<i>Aliris: A Romance of all Time</i>, for the morning, and drove down to +Spanish Gulch with Old Mizzou.</p> + +<p>He was mentally braced for devilment, but his arch-enemy, Fay, was not +in sight. To his surprise, he got to the post office quite without +molestation. There he was handed two letters. One was from his parents. +The other, his first business document, proved to be from the mining +capitalist. The latter he found to inclose separate drafts for various +amounts in favour of six men. Bishop wrote that the young man was to +hand these drafts to their owners, and to take receipts for the amounts +of each. He promised a further installment in a few weeks.</p> + +<p>Bennington felt very important. He looked the letter all over again, +and examined the envelope idly. The Spanish Gulch postmark bore date of +the day before.</p> + +<p>"That's funny," said Bennington to himself. "I wonder why Mizzou didn't +bring it up with him last night?" Then he remembered the old man's +watery eye and laughed. "I guess I know," he thought.</p> + +<p>The next thing was to find the men named in the letter. He did not know +them from Adam. Mizzou saw no difficulty, however, when the matter was +laid before him.</p> + +<p>"They're in th' Straight Flush!" he asserted positively.</p> + +<p>This was astounding. How should Old Mizzou know that?</p> + +<p>"I don't exactly know," the old man explained this discrepancy, "but +they generally is!"</p> + +<p>"Don't they ever work?"</p> + +<p>"Work's purty slack," crawfished Davidson. "But I tells you I don't +<i>know</i>. We has to find out," and he shuffled away toward the saloon.</p> + +<p>Anybody but Bennington would have suspected something. There was the +delayed letter, the supernatural knowledge of Old Mizzou, the absence +of Fay. Even the Easterner might have been puzzled to account for the +crowded condition of the Straight Flush at ten in the morning, if his +attention had not been quite fully occupied in posing before himself as +the man of business.</p> + +<p>When Mizzou and his companion entered the room, the hum of talk died, +and every one turned expectantly in the direction of the newcomers.</p> + +<p>"Gents," said Old Mizzou, "this is Mr. de Laney, th' new sup'rintendent +of th' Holy Smoke. Mr. de Laney, gents!"</p> + +<p>There was a nodding of heads.</p> + +<p>Every one looked eagerly expectant. The man behind the bar turned back +his cuffs. De Laney, feeling himself the centre of observation, grew +nervous. He drew from his pocket Bishop's letter, and read out the five +names. "I'd like to see those men," he said.</p> + +<p>The men designated came forward. After a moment's conversation, the six +adjourned to the hotel, where paper and ink could be procured.</p> + +<p>After their exit a silence fell, and the miners looked at each other +with ludicrous faces.</p> + +<p>"An' he never asked us to take a drink!" exclaimed one sorrowfully. +"That settles it. It may not be fer th' good of th' camp, Jim Fay, but +I reckons it ain't much fer th' harm of it. I goes you."</p> + +<p>"Me to," "and me," "and me," shouted other voices.</p> + +<p>Fay leaped on the bar and spread his arms abroad.</p> + +<p>"Speech! Speech!" they cried.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen of the great and glorious West!" he began. "It rejoices me +to observe this spirit animating your bosoms. Trampling down the finer +feelings that you all possess to such an unlimited degree, putting +aside all thought of merely material prosperity, you are now prepared, +at whatever cost, to ally yourselves with that higher poetic justice +which is above barter, above mere expediency, above even the ordinary +this-for-that fairness which often passes as justice among the effete +and unenlightened savages of the East. Gentlemen of the great and +glorious West, I congratulate you!"</p> + +<p>The miners stood close around the bar. Every man's face bore a broad +grin. At this point they interrupted with howls and cat-calls of +applause. "Ain't he a <i>peach</i>!" said one to another, and composed +himself again to listen. At the conclusion of a long harangue they +yelled enthusiastically, and immediately began the more informal +discussion of what was evidently a popular proposition. When the five +who had been paid off returned, everybody had a drink, while the +newcomers were made acquainted with the subject. Old Mizzou, who had +listened silently but with a twinkle in his eye, went to hunt up +Bennington.</p> + +<p>They examined the horse together. The owner named thirty dollars as his +price. Old Mizzou said this was cheap. It was not. Bennington agreed to +take the animal on trial for a day or two, so they hitched a lariat +around its neck and led it over to the wagon. After despatching a few +errands they returned to camp. Bennington got out his ledger and +journal and made entries importantly. Old Mizzou disappeared in the +direction of the corral, where he was joined presently by the man +Arthur.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_VII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE MEETING AT THE ROCK</h3> +<br> + +<p>On his way to keep the appointment of the afternoon, Bennington de +Laney discovered within himself a new psychological experience. He +found that, since the evening before, he had been observing things +about him for the purpose of detailing them to his new friend. Little +beauties of nature—as when a strange bird shone for an instant in +vivid contrast to the mountain laurel near his window; an unusual +effect of pine silhouettes near the sky; a weird, semi-poetic +suggestion of one of Poe's stories implied in a contorted shadow cast +by a gnarled little oak in the light of the moon—these he had noticed +and remembered, and was now eager to tell his companion, with full +assurance of her sympathy and understanding. Three days earlier he +would have passed them by.</p> + +<p>But stranger still was his discovery that he had <i>always</i> noticed such +things, and had remembered them. Observations of the sort had +heretofore been quite unconscious. Without knowing it he had always +been a Nature lover, one who appreciated the poetry of her moods, one +who saw the beauty of her smiles, or, what is more rare, the greater +beauty of her frown. The influence had entered into his being, but had +lain neglected. Now it stole forth as the odour of a dried balsam bough +steals from the corner of a loft whither it has been thrown carelessly. +It was all delightful and new, and he wanted to tell her of it.</p> + +<p>He did so. After a little he told her about <i>Aliris: A Romance of all +Time</i>, in which she appeared so interested that he detailed the main +idea and the plot. At her request, he promised to read it to her. He +was very young, you see, and very inexperienced; he threw himself +generously, without reserve, on this girl's sympathies in a manner of +which, assuredly, he should have been quite ashamed. Only the very +young are not ashamed.</p> + +<p>The girl listened, at first half amused. Then she was touched, for she +saw that it was sincere, and youthful, and indicative of clear faith +in what is beautiful, and in fine ideals of what is fitting. Perhaps, +dimly, she perceived that this is good stuff of which to make a man, +provided it springs from immaturity, and not from the sentimentalism of +degeneracy. The loss of it is a price we pay for wisdom. Some think the +price too high.</p> + +<p>As he talked on in this moonshiny way, really believing his ridiculous +abstractions the most important things in the world, gradually she too +became young. She listened with parted lips, and in her great eyes the +soul rose and rose within, clearing away the surface moods as twilight +clears the land of everything but peace.</p> + +<p>He was telling of the East again with a certain felicity of +expression—have we not said he had the gift of words?—and an abandon +of sentiment which showed how thoroughly he confided in the sympathy of +his listener. When we are young we are apt to confide in the sympathy +of every listener, and so we make fools of ourselves, and it takes us a +long time to live down our reputations. As we grow older, we believe +less and less in its reality. Perhaps by and by we do not trust to +anybody's sympathy, not even our own.</p> + +<p>"We have an old country place," he was saying; "it belonged to my +grandfather. My grandfather came by it when the little town was very +small indeed, so he built an old-fashioned stone house and surrounded +it with large grounds." He was seeing the stone house and the large +grounds with that new inner observation which he had just discovered, +and he was trying to the best of his ability to tell what he saw. After +a little he spoke more rhythmically. Many might have thought he spoke +sentimentally, because with feeling; but in reality he was merely +trying with great earnestness for expression. A jarring word would have +brought him back to his everyday mood, but for the time being he was +wrapt in what he saw. This is a condition which all writers, and some +lovers, will recognise. "Now the place is empty—except in +summer—except that we have an old woman who lives tucked away in one +corner of it. I lived there one summer just after I finished college. +Outside my window there was an apple tree that just brushed against +the ledge; there were rose vines, the climbing sort, on the wall; and +then, too, there was a hickory tree that towered 'way over the roof. In +the front yard is what is known all over town as the 'big tree,' a +silver maple, at least twice as tall as the house. It is so broad that +its shade falls over the whole front of the place. In the back is an +orchard of old apple trees, and trellises of big blue grapes. On one +side is a broad lawn, at the back of which is one of the good +old-fashioned flower gardens that does one good to look at. There are +little pink primroses dotting the sod, sweet-william, lavender, +nasturtiums, sweet peas, hollyhocks, bachelor's buttons, portulaca, and +a row of tall sunflowers, the delight of a sleepy colony of hens. I +learned all the flowers that summer." He clasped his hands comfortably +back of his head and looked at her. She was gazing out over the Bad +Lands to the East. "In the very centre, as a sort of protecting nurse +to all the littler flowers," he went on, "is a big lilac bush, and +there the bees and humming birds are thick on a warm spring day. There +are plenty of birds too, but I didn't know so many of them. They +nested everywhere—in the 'big tree,' the orchard, the evergreens, the +hedges, and in the long row of maple trees with trunks as big as a +barrel and limbs that touch across the street."</p> + +<p>"It must be beautiful!" said the girl quietly without looking around.</p> + +<p>Then he began to "suppose." This, as every woman knows, is dangerous +business.</p> + +<p>"It <i>was</i> beautiful," said he. "I can't tell you about it. The words +don't seem to fit some way. I wish you could see it for yourself. I +know you'd enjoy it. I always wanted some one with me to enjoy it too. +Suppose some way we were placed so we could watch the year go by in +those deep windows. First there is the spring and the birds and the +flowers, all of which I've been talking about. Then there is the +summer, when the shades are drawn, when the shadows of the roses wave +slowly across the curtains, when the air outside quivers with heat, and +the air inside tastes like a draught of cool water. All the bird songs +are stilled except that one little fellow still warbles, swaying in +the breeze on the tiptop of the 'big tree,' his notes sliding down the +long sunbeams like beads on a golden thread. Then we would read +together, in the half-darkened 'parlour,' something not very deep, but +beautiful, like Hawthorne's stories; or we would together seek for +these perfect lines of poetry which haunt the memory. In the evening we +would go out to hear the crickets and the tree toads, to see the night +breeze toss the leaves across the calm face of the moon, to be silenced +in spirit by the peace of the stars. Then the autumn would come. We +would taste the 'Concords' and the little red grapes and the big red +grapes. We would take our choice of the yellow sweetings, the hard +white snow apples, or the little red-cheeked fellows from the west +tree. And then, of course, there are the russets! Then there are the +pears, and all the hickory nuts which rattle down on us every time the +wind blows. The leaves are everywhere. We would rake them up into big +piles, and jump into them, and 'swish' about in them. How bracing the +air is! How silvery the sun! How red your cheeks would get! And think +of the bonfires!"</p> + +<p>"And in winter?" murmured the girl. Her eyes were shining.</p> + +<p>"In the winter the wind would howl through the 'big tree,' and +everything would be bleak and cold out doors. We would be inside, of +course, and we would sit on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, +while the evening passed by, watching the 'geese in the chimney' flying +slowly away."</p> + +<p>"'Suppose' some more," she begged dreamily. "I love it. It rests me."</p> + +<p>She clasped her hands back of her head and closed her eyes.</p> + +<p>The young man looked quietly about him.</p> + +<p>"This is a wild and beautiful country," said he, "but it lacks +something. I think it is the soul. The little wood lots of the East +have so much of it." He paused in surprise at his own thoughts. His +only experiences in the woods East had been when out picnicking, or +berrying, and he had never noticed these things. "I don't know as I +ever thought of it there," he went on slowly, as though trying to be +honest with her, "but here it comes to me somehow or another." A little +fly-catcher shot up from the frond below, poised a moment, and dropped +back with closed wings.</p> + +<p>"Do you know the birds?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not," he admitted; "I don't really <i>know</i> much about +Nature, but I love it, and I'm going to learn more. I know only the +very common birds, and one other. Did you ever hear the hermit thrush +sing?"</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he cried in sudden enthusiasm, "then there is another 'suppose' +for us, the best of all."</p> + +<p>"I love the dear old house!" she objected doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"But the hermit thrush is better. The old country minister took me to +hear him one Sunday afternoon and I shall never forget it."</p> + +<p>She glanced at his animated face through half-closed eyes.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," she urged softly.</p> + +<p>"'Suppose' we were back East," he began, "and in the country, just +about this time of year. We would wait until the afternoon—why! just +about this time, when the sun is getting low. We would push through the +bushes at the edge of the woods where the little tinkling birds sing in +the fence corners, and would enter the deep high woods where the trees +are tall and still. The moss is thick and soft in there, and there are +little pools lying calm and dark, and there is a kind of a <i>hush</i> in +the air—not silence, you know, but like when a big crowd of people are +keeping still. And then we would walk very carefully, and speak low, +and we would sit by the side of a fallen log and wait. After a while +the thrush would sing, a deep note, with a thrill in it, like a bell +slow and solemn. When you hear it you too feel a thrill as though you +had heard a great and noble thought. Why, it is almost <i>holy</i>!"</p> + +<p>He turned to the girl. She was looking at him.</p> + +<p>"Why, hullo!" he exclaimed, "what's the matter?"</p> + +<p>Her eyes were brimming with tears.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she said. "I never heard a man talk as you have been +talking, that is all. The rest of them are cynical and hard and cold. +They would be ashamed to say the things you have said. No, no!" she +cried, laying her hand on his arm as he made a little uneasy movement, +"do not misunderstand me. I like it. I love it. It does me good. I had +lost faith. It is not nice to know the other kind—well."</p> + +<p>"You speak bitterly," he expostulated.</p> + +<p>She laughed. "It is a common experience enough. Pray that you may never +know it. I began as a little child, loving and trusting every one, and +giving my full free heart and confidence to every one who offered his +best to me. All I can say is, that I am thankful for you that you have +escaped the suffering such blind trust leads to."</p> + +<p>She laughed again, bitterly, and threw her arms out.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I shall go on trusting people forever. It's in my nature, +and I can't help it."</p> + +<p>"I hope you will feel you can trust me," said he, troubled at this +passion so much beyond his experience. "I would do anything for you."</p> + +<p>"Do! do!" she cried with contempt. "Yes. Any number of people will <i>do</i> +anything for me. I want some one to <i>be</i> for me!"</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry!" he said simply, but with great feeling.</p> + +<p>"Don't pity me, don't believe in me!" she cried suddenly in a passion. +"I am not worth it. I am cruel and hard and cold, and I'll never care +for anybody in any way. My nature has been hardened. I <i>can't</i> be good. +I can't care for people. I <i>can't</i> think of giving way to it. It +frightens me."</p> + +<p>She burst into sudden tears and sobbed convulsively. In a moment she +became calm. Then she took her hands from her eyes and smiled. In the +distress of his sympathy Bennington thought he had never seen anything +more beautiful than this breaking forth of the light.</p> + +<p>"You must think I am a very peculiar young person," she said, "but I +told you I was a mystery. I am a little tired to-day, that's all."</p> + +<p>The conversation took a lighter tone and ran on the subject of the new +horse. She was much interested, inquiring of his colour, his size, his +gaits, whether he had been tried.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what we will do," she suggested; "we'll go on an +expedition some day. I have a pony too. We will fill up our saddlebags +and cook our own dinner. I know a nice little place over toward Blue +Lead."</p> + +<p>"I've one suggestion to add," put in Bennington, "and that is, that we +go to-morrow."</p> + +<p>She looked a trifle doubtful.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Aren't we seeing a good deal of each other?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, if it is going to bore you, by all means put it off!" cried +Bennington in genuine alarm.</p> + +<p>She laughed contentedly over his way of looking at it. "I'm not tired +then, so please you; and when I am, I'll let you know. To-morrow it +is."</p> + +<p>"Shall I come after you? What time shall I start?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'd rather meet you somewhere. Let's see. You watch for me, and +I'll ride by in the lower gulch about nine o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Very well. By the way, the band's going to practise in town to-night. +Don't you want to go?"</p> + +<p>"I'd like to, but I promised Jim I'd go with him."</p> + +<p>"Jim?"</p> + +<p>"Jim Fay."</p> + +<p>Bennington felt this as a discordant note.</p> + +<p>"Do you know him very well?" he asked jealously.</p> + +<p>"He's my best friend. I like him very much. He is a fine fellow. You +must meet him."</p> + +<p>"I've met him," said Bennington shortly.</p> + +<p>"Now you must go," she commanded, after a pause. "I want to stay here +for a while." "No," as he opened his mouth to object. "I mean it! +Please be good!"</p> + +<p>After he had gone she sat still until sundown. Once she shook her +shoulders impatiently. "It is <i>silly</i>!" she assured herself. As before, +the shadow of Harney crept out to the horizon's edge. There it +stopped. Twilight fell.</p> + +<p>"No Spirit Mountain to-night," she murmured wistfully at last. "Almost +do I believe in the old legend."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_VIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>AN ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT</h3> +<br> + +<p>After supper that night Bennington found himself unaccountably alone in +camp. Old Mizzou had wandered off up the gulch. Arthur had wandered off +down the gulch. The woman had locked herself in her cabin.</p> + +<p>So, having nothing else to do, he got out the manuscript of <i>Aliris: A +Romance of all Time</i>, and read it through carefully from the beginning. +To his surprise he found it very poor. Its language was felicitous in +some spots, but stilted in most; the erudition was pedantic, and +dragged in by the ears; the action was idiotic; and the proportions +were padded until they no longer existed as proportions. He was +astounded. He began to see that he had misconceived the whole treatment +of it. It would have to be written all over again, with the love story +as the ruling <i>motif</i>. He felt very capable of doing the love story. +He drew some paper toward him and began to write.</p> + +<p>You see he was already developing. Every time a writer is made to +appreciate that his work is poor he has taken a step in advance of it. +Although he did not know that was the reason of it, Bennington +perceived the deficiencies of <i>Aliris</i>, because he had promised to read +it to the girl. He saw it through her eyes.</p> + +<p>The young man became absorbed in redescribing the heroine with violet +eyes. A sudden slamming of the door behind him brought him, startled, +to his feet. He laughed, and was about to sit down again, but noticed +that the door had remained open. He arose to shut it. Over the trunks +of the nearer pines played a strange flickering light, throwing them +now into relief, now into shadow. "Strange!" murmured Bennington to +himself, and stepped outside to investigate. As he crossed the sill he +was seized on either side.</p> + +<p>He cried out and struggled blindly, but was held as in a vice. His +captors, whom he dimly perceived to be large men in masks, whirled him +sharply to the left, and he found himself face to face with a third +man, also masked. Beyond him were a score or so more, some of whom bore +pine torches, which, partly blazing and partly smoking, served to cast +the weird light he had seen flickering on the tree trunks. Perfect +silence reigned. The man with whom Bennington was fronted eyed him +gravely through the holes in his mask.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know what this means?" broke out the Easterner angrily.</p> + +<p>The men did not reply. They stood motionless, as silent as the night. +In spite of his indignation, the young man was impressed. He twisted +his shoulders again. The men at either arm never tightened a muscle to +resist, and yet he was held beyond the possibility of escape.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter? What're you trying to do? Take your hands off me!" +he cried.</p> + +<p>Again the silence fell.</p> + +<p>Then at the end of what seemed to the Easterner a full minute the +masked figure in front spoke.</p> + +<p>"Thar is them that thinks as how it ain't noways needful thet ye +knows," it said in slow and solemn accents, "but by the mercy of th' +others we gives y' thet much satisfaction."</p> + +<p>"You comes hyar from a great corp'ration thet in times gone by we +thinks is public spirited an' enterprisin', which is a mistake. You +pays th' debt of said corp'ration, so they sez, an' tharfore we +welcomes you to our bosom cordial. What happens? You insults us by +paying such low-down ornary cusses as Snowie. Th' camp is just. She +arises an' avenges said insult by stringin' of you up all right an' +proper. We gives you five minutes to get ready."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"We hangs you in five minutes."</p> + +<p>The slow, even voice ceased, and again the silence was broken only by +the occasional bursting crackle of a blister in the pine torches. +Bennington tried to realize the situation. It had all come about so +suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I guess you've got the joke on me, boys," he ventured with a nervous +little laugh. And then his voice died away against the stony +immobility of the man opposite as laughter sinks to nothing against +the horror of a great darkness. Bennington began to feel impressed in +earnest. Across his mind crept doubts as to the outcome. He almost +screamed aloud as some one stole up behind and dropped over his throat +the soft cold coil of a lariat. Then, at a signal from the chief, the +two men haled him away.</p> + +<p>They stopped beneath a gnarled oak halfway down the slope to the gulch +bottom, from which protruded, like a long witch arm, a single withered +branch. Over this the unseen threw the end of the lariat. Bennington +faced the expressionless gaze of twenty masks, on which the torchlight +threw Strong black shadows. Directly in front of him the leader posted +himself, watch in hand.</p> + +<p>"Any last requests?" he inquired in his measured tones.</p> + +<p>Bennington felt the need of thinking quickly, but, being unused to +emergencies, he could not.</p> + +<p>"Anywhar y' want yore stuff sent?" the other pursued relentlessly.</p> + +<p>Bennington swallowed, and found his voice at last.</p> + +<p>"Now be reasonable," he pleaded. "It isn't going to do you any good to +hang me. I didn't mean to make any distinctions. I just paid the oldest +debts, that's all. You'll all get paid. There'll be some more money +after a while, and then I can pay some more of you. If you kill me, you +won't get any at all."</p> + +<p>"Won't get any any way," some one muttered audibly from the crowd.</p> + +<p>The man with the watch never stirred.</p> + +<p>"Two minutes more," he said simply.</p> + +<p>One of the men, who had been holding the young man's arms, had fallen +back into the crowd when the lariat was thrown over the oak limb. +During the short colloquy just detailed, the attention of the other had +become somewhat distracted. Bennington wrenched himself free, and +struck this man full in the face.</p> + +<p>He had never in his well-ordered life hit in anger, but behind this +blow was desperation, and the weight of a young and active body. The +man went down. Bennington seized the lariat with both hands and tried +to wrench it over his head.</p> + +<p>The individual who had done all the talking leaped forward toward him, +and dodging a hastily aimed blow, seized him about the waist and threw +him neatly to the ground. Bennington struggled furiously and silently. +The other had great difficulty in holding him down.</p> + +<p>"Come here, some of you fellows," he cried, panting and laughing a +little. "Tie his hands, for the love of Heaven."</p> + +<p>In another moment the Easterner, his arms securely pinioned, stood as +before. He was breathing hard and the short struggle had heated his +blood through and through. Bunker Hill had waked up. He set his teeth, +resolving that they should not get another word out of him.</p> + +<p>The timekeeper raised one hand warningly. Over his shoulder Bennington +dimly saw a tall muscular figure, tense with the expectation of effort, +lean forward to the slack of the lariat. He stared back to the front.</p> + +<p>The leader raised his pistol to give the signal. Bennington shut his +eyes. Then ensued a pause and a murmuring of low voices. Bennington +looked, and, to his surprise, perceived Lawton's girl in earnest +expostulation with the leader of the band. As he listened their voices +rose, so he caught snatches of their talk.</p> + +<p>"Confound it all!" objected the man in exasperated tones, "you don't +play fair. That wasn't the agreement at all."</p> + +<p>"Agreement or no agreement, this thing's gone far enough," she rejoined +sharply. "I've watched the whole performance, and I've been expecting +for the last ten minutes you'd have sense enough to quit."</p> + +<p>The voices died to a murmuring. Once the girl stamped her foot, and +once the man spread his hands out in deprecation. The maskers grouped +about in silent enjoyment of the scene. At last the discussion +terminated.</p> + +<p>"It's all up, boys," cried the man savagely, tearing off his mask. To +Bennington's vast surprise, the features of Jim Fay were discovered. He +approached and began sullenly to undo the young man's pinioned arms. +The others rolled up their masks and put them in their pockets. They +laughed to each other consumedly. The tall man approached, rubbing his +jaw.</p> + +<p>"You hits hard, sonny," said he, "and you don't go down in yore +boots<a name="FNanchorA"></a><a href="#Footnote_A"><sup>[A]</sup></a> a little bit."</p> + +<p>The group began to break up and move down the gulch, most of the men +shouting out a good-natured word or so of farewell. Bennington, +recovering from his daze at the rapid passage of these events, stepped +forward to where Fay and the girl had resumed their discussion. He saw +that the young miner had recovered his habitual tone of raillery, and +that the girl was now looking up at him with eyes full of deprecation.</p> + +<p>"Miss Lawton," said Bennington with formality, "I hope you will allow +me, after your great kindness, to see that you get down the gulch +safely."</p> + +<p>Fay cut in before the girl could reply.</p> + +<p>"Don't bother about that, de Laney," said he, in a most cavalier +fashion. "I'll see to it."</p> + +<p>"I did not address you, sir!" returned Bennington coldly. The +Westerner's eyes twinkled with amusement. The girl interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much, Mr. de Laney, but Mr. Fay is right—I wouldn't +trouble you." Her eyes commanded Fay, and he moved a little apart.</p> + +<p>"Don't be angry," she pleaded hurriedly, in an undertone, "but it's +better that way to-night. And I think you acted grandly."</p> + +<p>"You are the one who acted grandly," he replied, a little mollified. +"How can I ever thank you? You came just in time."</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>"You're not angry, are you?" she coaxed.</p> + +<p>"No, of course not; what right have I to be?"</p> + +<p>"I don't like that—quite—but I suppose it will do. You'll be there +to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"You know I will."</p> + +<p>"Then good-night." She gave his folded arm a hasty pat and ran on down +the hill after Fay, who had gone on. Bennington saw her seize his +shoulders, as she overtook him, and give them a severe shake.</p> + +<p>The light of the torches down the gulch wavered and disappeared. +Bennington returned to his room. On the table lay his manuscript, and +the ink was hardly dried on the last word of it. Outside a poor-will +began to utter its weird call. The candle before him sputtered, and +burned again with a clear flame.</p> + +<a name="Footnote_A"></a><a href="#FNanchorA">[A]</a><div class=note> Western—to become frightened.</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_IX"></a><h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE HEAVENS OPENED</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington awoke early the next morning, a pleased glow of anticipation +warming his heart, and almost before his eyes were opened he had raised +himself to leap out of the bunk. Then with a disappointed sigh he sank +back. On the roof fell the heavy patter of raindrops.</p> + +<p>After a time he arose and pulled aside the curtains of a window. The +nearer world was dripping; the farther world was hidden or obscured by +long veils of rain, driven in ragged clouds before a west wind. +Yesterday the leaves had waved lightly, the undergrowth of shrubs had +uplifted in feathery airiness of texture, the ground beneath had been +crisp and aromatic with pine needles. Now everything bore a drooping, +sodden aspect which spoke rather of decay than of the life of spring. +Even the chickens had wisely remained indoors, with the exception of a +single bedraggled old rooster, whose melancholy appearance added +another shade of gloom to the dismal outlook. The wind twisted his long +tail feathers from side to side so energetically that, even as +Bennington looked, the poor fowl, perforce, had to scud, careened from +one side to the other, like a heavily-laden craft, into the shelter of +his coop. The wind, left to its own devices, skittered across +cold-looking little pools of water, and tried in vain to induce the +soaked leaves of the autumn before to essay an aerial flight.</p> + +<p>The rain hit the roof now in heavy gusts as though some one had dashed +it from a pail. The wind whistled through a loosened shingle and +rattled around an ill-made joint. Within the house itself some slight +sounds of preparation for breakfast sounded the clearer against the +turmoil outside. And then Bennington became conscious that for some +time he had <i>felt</i> another sound underneath all the rest. It was grand +and organlike in tone, resembling the roar of surf on a sand beach as +much as anything else. He looked out again, and saw that it was the +wind in the trees. The same conditions that had before touched the harp +murmur of a stiller day now struck out a rush and roar almost +awe-inspiring in its volume. Bennington impulsively threw open the +window and leaned out.</p> + +<p>The great hill back of the camp was so steep that the pines growing on +its slope offered to the breeze an almost perpendicular screen of +branches. Instead of one, or at most a dozen trees, the wind here +passed through a thousand at once. As a consequence, the stir of air +that in a level woodland would arouse but a faint whisper, here would +pass with a rustling murmur; a murmur would be magnified into a noise +as of the mellow falling of waters; and now that the storm had +awakened, the hill caught up its cry with a howl so awful and sustained +that, as the open window let in the full volume of its blast, +Bennington involuntarily drew back. He closed the sash and turned to +dress.</p> + +<p>After the first disappointment, strange to say, Bennington became quite +resigned. He had felt, a little illogically, that this giving of a +whole day to the picnic was not quite the thing. His Puritan conscience +impressed him with the sacredness of work. He settled down to the fact +of the rainstorm with a pleasant recognition of its inevitability, and +a resolve to improve his time.</p> + +<p>To that end, after breakfast, he drew on a pair of fleece-lined +slippers, donned a sweater, occupied two chairs in the well-known +fashion, and attacked with energy the pages of Le Conte's <i>Geology</i>. +This book, as you very well know, discourses at first with great +interest concerning erosions. Among other things it convinces you that +a current of water, being doubled in swiftness, can transport a mass +sixty-four times as heavy as when it ran half as fast. This astounding +proposition is abstrusely proved. As Bennington had resolved not to +make his reading mere recreation, he drew diagrams conscientiously +until he understood it. Then he passed on to an earnest consideration +of why the revolution of the globe and the resistance of continents +cause oceanic currents of a particular direction and velocity. Besides +this, there was much easier reading concerning alluvial deposits. So +interested did he grow that Old Mizzou, coming in, muddy-hoofed and +glistening from a round of the stock, found him quite unapproachable on +the subject of cribbage. The patriarch then stumped over to Arthur's +cabin.</p> + +<p>After dinner, Bennington picked up the book again, but found that his +brain had reached the limit of spontaneous mental effort. He looked for +Old Mizzou and the cribbage game. The miner had gone to visit Arthur +again. Bennington wandered about disconsolately.</p> + +<p>For a time he drummed idly on the window pane. Then he took out his +revolver and tried to practise through the open doorway. The smoke from +the discharges hung heavy in the damp air, filling the room in a most +disagreeable fashion. Bennington's trips to see the effect of his shots +proved to him the fiendish propensity of everything he touched, were it +never so lightly, to sprinkle him with cold water. Above all, his skill +with the weapon was not great enough as yet to make it much fun. He +abandoned pistol shooting and yawned extensively, wishing it were time +to go to bed.</p> + +<p>In the evening he played cribbage with Old Mizzou. After a time Arthur +and his wife came in and they had a dreary game of "cinch," the man +speaking but little, the woman not at all. Old Mizzou smoked +incessantly on a corncob pipe charged with a peculiarly pungent variety +of tobacco, which filled the air with a blue vapour, and penetrated +unpleasantly into Bennington's mucous membranes.</p> + +<p>The next morning it was still raining.</p> + +<p>Bennington became very impatient indeed, but he tackled Le Conte +industriously, and did well enough until he tried to get it into his +head why various things happen to glaciers. Then viscosity, the lines +of swiftest motion, relegation, and directions of pressure came forth +from the printed pages and mocked him. He arose in his might and went +forth into the open air.</p> + +<p>Before going out he had put on his canvas shooting coat and a pair of +hobnailed leather hunting boots, laced for a little distance at the +front and sides. He visited the horses, standing disconsolate under an +open shed in the corral; he slopped, with constantly accruing masses of +sticky earth at his feet, to the chicken coop, into which he cast an +eye; he even took the kitchen pails and tramped down to the spring and +back. In the gulch he did not see or hear a living thing. A newly-born +and dirty little stream was trickling destructively through all manner +of shivering grasses and flowers. The water from Bennington's sleeves +ran down over the harsh canvas cuffs and turned his hands purple with +the cold. He returned to the cabin and changed his clothes.</p> + +<p>The short walk had refreshed him, but it had spurred his impatience. +Outside, the world seemed to have changed. His experience with the +Hills, up to now, had always been in one phase of their beauty—that of +clear, bright sunshine and soft skies. Now it was as a different +country. He could not get rid of the feeling, foolish as it was, that +it was in reality different; and that the whole episode of the girl and +the rock was as a vision which had passed. It grew indistinct in the +presence of this iron reality of cold and wet. He could not assure +himself he had not imagined it all. Thus, belated, he came to thinking +of her again, and having now nothing else to do, he fell into daydreams +that had no other effect than to reveal to him the impatience which had +been, from the first, the real cause of his restlessness under the +temporary confinement. Now the impatience grew in intensity. He +resolved that if the morrow did not end the storm, he would tramp down +the gulch to make a call. All this time <i>Aliris</i> lay quite untouched.</p> + +<p>The next day dawned darker than ever. After breakfast Old Mizzou, as +usual, went out to feed the horses, and Bennington, through sheer +idleness, accompanied him. They distributed the oats and hay, and then +stood, sheltered from the direct rain, conversing idly.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the wind died and the rain ceased. In the place of the gloom +succeeded a strange sulphur-yellow glare which lay on the spirit with +almost physical oppression. Old Mizzou shouted something, and scrambled +excitedly to the house. Bennington looked about him bewildered.</p> + +<p>Over back of the hill, dimly discernible through the trees, loomed the +black irregular shape of a cloud, in dismal contrast to the yellow +glare which now filled all the sky. The horses, frightened, crowded up +close to Bennington, trying to push their noses over his shoulder. A +number of jays and finches rushed down through the woods and darted +rapidly, each with its peculiar flight, toward a clump of trees and +bushes standing on a ridge across the valley.</p> + +<p>From the cabin Old Mizzou was shouting to him. He turned to follow the +old man. Back of him something vast and awful roared out, and then all +at once he felt himself struggling with a rush of waters. He was jammed +violently against the posts of the corral. There he worked to his feet.</p> + +<p>The whole side of the hill was one vast spread of shallow tossing +water, as though a lake had been let fall on the summit of the ridge. +The smaller bushes were uprooted and swept along, but the trees and +saplings held their own.</p> + +<p>In a moment the stones and ridgelets began to show. It was over. Not a +drop of rain had fallen.</p> + +<p>Bennington climbed the corral fence and walked slowly to the house. The +blacksmith shop was filled to the window, and Arthur's cabin was not +much better. He entered the kitchen. The floor there was some two +inches submerged, but the water was slowly escaping through the +down-hill door by which Bennington had come in. Across the dining-room +door Mrs. Arthur had laid a folded rug. In front of the barrier stood +the lady herself, vigorously sweeping back the threatening water from +her only glorious apartment.</p> + +<p>Bennington took the broom from her and swept until the cessation of the +flood made it no longer necessary. Mrs. Arthur commenced to mop the +floor. The young man stepped outside. There he was joined a moment +later by the other two.</p> + +<p>They offered no explanation of their whereabouts during the trouble, +but Bennington surmised shrewdly that they had hunted a dry place.</p> + +<p>"Glory!" cried Old Mizzou. "Lucky she misses us!"</p> + +<p>"What was it? Where'd it come from?" inquired Bennington, shaking the +surface drops from his shoulders. He was wet through.</p> + +<p>"Cloud-burst," replied the miner. "She hit up th' ridge a ways. If +she'd ever burst yere, sonny, ye'd never know what drownded ye. Look at +that gulch!"</p> + +<p>The water had now drained from the hill entirely. It could be seen that +most of the surface earth had been washed away, leaving the skeleton of +the mountain bare. Some of the more slightly rooted trees had fallen, +or clung precariously to the earth with bony fingers. But the gulch +itself was terrible. The mountain laurel, the elders, the sarvis +bushes, the wild roses which, a few days before, had been fragrant and +beautiful with blossom and leaf and musical with birds, had +disappeared. In their stead rolled an angry brown flood whirling in +almost unbroken surface from bank to bank. Several oaks, submerged to +their branches, raised their arms helplessly. As Bennington looked, +one of these bent slowly and sank from sight. A moment later it shot +with great suddenness half its length into the air, was seized by the +eager waters, and whisked away as lightly as though it had been a tree +of straw. Dark objects began to come down with the stream. They seemed +to be trying to preserve a semblance of dignity in their stately +bobbing up and down, but apparently found the attempt difficult. The +roar was almost deafening, but even above it a strangely deliberate +grinding noise was audible. Old Mizzou said it was the grating of +boulders as they were rolled along the bed of the stream. The yellow +glow had disappeared from the air, and the gloom of rain had taken its +place.</p> + +<p>A fine mist began to fall. Bennington for the first time realized he +was wet and shivering, and so he turned inside to change his clothes.</p> + +<p>"It'll all be over in a few hours," remarked Arthur. "I reckon them +Spanish Gulch people'll wish they lived up-stream."</p> + +<p>Bennington paused at the doorway.</p> + +<p>"That's so," he commented. "How about Spanish Gulch? Will it all be +drowned out?"</p> + +<p>"No, I reckon not," replied Arthur. "They'll get wet down a lot, and +have wet blankets to sleep in to-night, that's all. You see the gulch +spraddles out down there, an' then too all this timber'll jam down this +gulch a-ways. That'll back up th' water some, and so she won't come all +of a rush."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Bennington.</p> + +<p>The afternoon was well enough occupied in repairing to some extent the +ravages of the brief storm. A length of the corral had succumbed to the +flood, many valuable tools in the blacksmith shop were in danger of +rust from the dampness, and Arthur and his wife had been completely +washed out. All three men worked hard setting things to rights. The +twilight caught them before their work was done.</p> + +<p>Bennington found himself too weary to attempt an unknown, +<i>débris</i>-covered road by dark. He played cribbage with Old Mizzou and +won.</p> + +<p>About half past nine he pushed back his chair and went outside. The +stars had come out by the thousand, and a solitary cricket, which had +in some way escaped the deluge, was chirping in the middle distance. +With a sudden uplift of the heart he realized that he would see "her" +on the morrow. He learned that no matter how philosophically we may +have borne a separation, the prospect of its near end shows us how +strong the repression has been; the lifting of the bonds makes evident +how much they have galled.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_X"></a><h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE WORLD MADE YOUNG</h3> +<br> + +<p>The morning fulfilled the promise of the night before. Bennington de +Laney awoke to a sun-bright world, fresh with the early breezes. A +multitude of birds outside the window bubbled and warbled and carolled +away with all their little mights, either in joy at the return of +peace, or in sorrow at the loss of their new-built houses. Sorrow and +joy sound much alike as nature tells them. The farther ridges and the +prairies were once more in view, but now, oh, wonder! the great plain +had cast aside its robes of monk brown, and had stepped forth in jolly +green-o'Lincoln. The air was full of tingling life. Altogether a +morning to cry one to leap eagerly from bed, to rush to the window, to +drink in deep draughts of electric balmy ozone, and to thank heaven for +the grace of mere existence.</p> + +<p>That at least is what Bennington did. And he did more. He despatched a +hasty breakfast, and went forth and saddled his steed, and rode away +down the gulch, with never a thought of sample tests, and never a care +whether the day's work were done or not. For this was springtime, and +the air was snapping with it. Near the chickens' shelter the burnished +old gobbler spread his tail and dragged his wings and puffed his +feathers and swelled himself red in the face, to the great admiration +of a demure gray-brown little turkey hen. Overhead wheeled two small +hawks screaming. They clashed, and light feathers came floating down +from the encounter; yet presently they flew away together to a hole in +a dead tree. Three song sparrows dashed almost to his very feet, so +busily fighting that they hardly escaped the pony's hoofs. Everywhere +love songs trilled from the underbrush; and Bennington de Laney, as +young, as full of life, as unmated as they, rode slowly along thinking +of his lady love, and----</p> + +<p>"Hullo! Where are you going?" cried she.</p> + +<p>He looked up with eager joy, to find that they had met in the middle +of what used to be the road. The gulch had been swept bare by the +flood, not only of every representative of the vegetable world, but +also of the very earth in which it had grown. From the remains of the +roadbed projected sharp flints and rocks, among which the broncos +picked their way.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Mary," he cried. "I was just coming to see you. Wasn't +it a great rain?"</p> + +<p>"And isn't the gulch awful? Down near our way the timber began to jam, +and it is all choked up; but up here it is desolate."</p> + +<p>He turned his horse about, and they paced slowly along together, +telling each other their respective experiences in the storm. It seemed +that the Lawtons had known nothing of the cloud-burst itself, except +from its effects in filling up the ravine. Rumours of the drowning of a +miner were about.</p> + +<p>It soon became evident that the brightness of the morning was reflected +from the girl's mood. She fairly sparkled with gaiety and high spirits. +The two got along famously.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" asked Bennington at last.</p> + +<p>"On the picnic, of course," she rejoined promptly. "Weren't you +invited? I thought you were."</p> + +<p>"I thought it would be too wet," he averred in explanation.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit! The rain dries quickly in the hills, and the cloud-burst +only came into this gulch. I have here," she went on, twisting around +in her saddle to inspect a large bundle and a pair of well-stuffed +saddle bags, "I have here a coffee pot, a frying pan, a little kettle, +two tin cups, and various sorts of grub. I am fixed for a scout sure. +Now when we get near your camp you must run up and get an axe and some +matches."</p> + +<p>Bennington observed with approval the corpulency of the bundle and the +skilful manner with which it was tied on. He noted, with perhaps more +approval, her lithe figure in its old-fashioned painter's blouse and +rough skirt, and the rosiness of her cheeks under a cloth cap caught on +awry. As the ponies sought a path at a snail's pace through the sharp +flints, she showed in a thousand ways how high the gaiety of her +animal spirits had mounted. She sang airy little pieces of songs. She +uttered single clear notes. She mocked, with a ludicrously feminine +croak, the hoarse voice of a crow sailing over them. She rallied +Bennington mercilessly on his corduroys, his yellow flapped pistol +holster, his laced boots. She went over in ridiculous pantomime the +scene of the mock lynching, until Bennington rolled in his saddle with +light-hearted laughter, and wondered how it was possible he had ever +taken the affair seriously. When he returned with the axe she was +hugely alarmed lest he harm himself by his awkward way of carrying it, +and gave him much wholesome advice in her most maternal manner. After +all of which she would catch his eye, and they would both laugh to +startle the birds.</p> + +<p>Blue Lead proved to be some distance away, for which fact Bennington +was not sorry. At length they surmounted a little ridge. Over its +summit there started into being a long cool "draw," broad and shallow +near the top, but deepening by insensible degrees into a cañon filled +already with broad-leaved shrubs, and thickly grown with saplings of +beech and ash. Through the screen of slender trunks could be seen +miniature open parks carpeted with a soft tiny fern, not high enough to +conceal the ears of a rabbit, or to quench the flame of the tiger lily +that grew there. Soon a little brook sprang from nowhere, and crept +timidly through and under thick mosses. After a time it increased in +size, and when it had become large enough to bubble over clear gravel, +Mary called a halt.</p> + +<p>"We'll have our picnic here," she decided.</p> + +<p>The ravine at this point received another little gulch into itself, and +where the two came together the bottom widened out into almost parklike +proportions. On one side was a grass-plot encroached upon by numerous +raspberry vines. On the other was the brook, flowing noisily in the +shade of saplings and of ferns.</p> + +<p>Bennington unsaddled the horses and led them over to the grass-plot, +where he picketed them securely in such a manner that they could not +become entangled. When he returned to the brookside he found that Mary +had undone her bundle and spread out its contents. There were various +utensils, some corn meal, coffee, two slices of ham, raw potatoes, a +small bottle of milk, some eggs wonderfully preserved by moss inside +the pail, and some bread and cake. Bennington eyed all this in dismay. +She caught his look and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Can't you cook? Well, I can; you just obey orders."</p> + +<p>"We won't get anything to eat before night," objected Bennington +dolefully as he looked over the decidedly raw material.</p> + +<p>"And he's <i>so</i> hungry!" she teased. "Never mind, you build a fire."</p> + +<p>Bennington brightened. He had one outdoor knack—that of lighting +matches in a wind and inducing refractory wood to burn. His skill had +often been called into requisition in the igniting of beach fires, and +the so-called "camp fires" of girls. He collected dry twigs from the +sunny places, cut slivers with his knife, built over the whole a +wigwam-shaped pyramid of heavier twigs, against which he leaned his +firewood. Then he touched off the combination. The slivers ignited the +twigs, the twigs set fire to the wigwam, the wigwam started the +firewood. Bennington's honour was vindicated. He felt proud.</p> + +<p>Mary, who had been filling the coffee pot at the creek, approached and +viewed the triumph. She cast upon it the glance of scorn.</p> + +<p>"That's no cooking fire," said she.</p> + +<p>So Bennington, under her directions, placed together the two parallel +logs with the hewn sides and built the small bright fire between them.</p> + +<p>"Now you see," she explained, "I can put my frying pan, and coffee pot, +and kettle across the two logs. I can get at them easy, and don't burn +my fingers. Now you may peel the potatoes."</p> + +<p>The Easterner peeled potatoes under constant laughing amendment as to +method. Then the small cook collected her materials about her, in grand +preparation for the final rites. She turned back the loose sleeves of +her blouse to the elbow.</p> + +<p>This drew an exclamation from Bennington.</p> + +<p>"Why, Mary, how white your arms are!" he cried, astonished.</p> + +<p>She surveyed her forearm with a little blush, turning it back and +forth.</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> pretty tanned," she agreed.</p> + +<p>The coffee pot was filled and placed across the logs at one end, and +left to its own devices a little removed from the hottest of the fire. +The kettle stood next, half filled with salted water, in which nestled +the potatoes like so many nested eggs. Mary mixed a mysterious +concoction of corn meal, eggs, butter, and some white powder, mushing +the whole up with milk and water. The mixture she spread evenly in the +bottom of the frying pan, which she set in a warm place.</p> + +<p>"It isn't much of a baking tin," she commented, eyeing it critically, +"but it'll do."</p> + +<p>Under her direction Bennington impaled the two slices of ham on long +green switches, and stuck these upright in the ground in such a +position that the warmth from the flames could just reach them.</p> + +<p>"They'll never cook there," he objected.</p> + +<p>"Didn't expect they would," she retorted briefly. Then relenting, +"They finish better if they're warmed through first," she explained.</p> + +<p>By this time the potatoes were bubbling energetically and the coffee +was sending out a fragrant steam. Mary stabbed experimentally at the +vegetables with a sharpened sliver. Apparently satisfied, she drew back +with a happy sigh. She shook her hair from her eyes and smiled across +at Bennington.</p> + +<p>"Ready! Go!" cried she.</p> + +<p>The frying pan was covered with a tin plate on which were heaped live +coals. More coals were poked from between the logs on to a flat place, +were spread out thin, and were crowned by the frying pan and its +glowing freight. Bennington held over the fire a switch of ham in each +hand, taking care, according to directions, not to approach the actual +blaze. Mary borrowed his hunting knife and disappeared into the +thicket. In a moment she returned with a kettle-lifter, improvised very +simply from a forked branch of a sapling. One of the forks was left +long for the hand, the other was cut short. The result was like an +Esquimaux fishhook. She then relieved Bennington of his task, while +that young man lifted the kettle from the fire and carefully drained +away the water.</p> + +<p>"Dinner!" she called gaily.</p> + +<p>Bennington looked up surprised. He had been so absorbed in the spells +wrought by this dainty woods fairy that he had forgotten the flight of +time. It was enough for him to watch the turn of her wrist, the swift +certainty of her movements, to catch the glow lit in her face by the +fire over which she bent. Then he suddenly remembered that her +movements had all along tended toward dinner, and were not got up +simply and merely that he might discover new charms in the small +housekeeper.</p> + +<p>He found himself seated on a rock with a tin plate in his lap, a tin +cup at his side, and an eager little lady in front of him, anxious that +he should taste all her dishes and deliver an opinion forthwith.</p> + +<p>The coffee he pronounced nectar; the ham and mealy potatoes, delicious; +the "johnny-cake" of a yellow golden crispness which the originator of +johnny-cake might envy; and the bread and cake and butter and sugar +only the less meritorious that they had not been prepared by her own +hands and on the spot.</p> + +<p>"And see!" she cried, clapping her hands, "the sun is still directly +over us. It is not night yet, silly boy!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>AND HE DID EAT</h3> +<br> + +<p>After the meal he wanted to lie down in the grasses and watch the +clouds sail by, but she would have none of it. She haled him away to +the brookside. There she showed him how to wash dishes by filling them +half full of water in which fine gravel has been mixed, and then +whirling the whole rapidly until the tin is rubbed quite clean. Never +was prosaic task more delightful. They knelt side by side on the bank, +under the dense leaves, and dabbled in the water happily. The ferns +were fresh and cool. Once a redbird shot confidently down from above on +half-closed wing, caught sight of these intruders, brought up with a +swish of feathers, and eyed them gravely for some time from a +neighbouring treelet. Apparently he was satisfied with his inspection, +for after a few minutes he paid no further attention to them, but went +about his business quietly. When the dishes had been washed, Mary +stood over Bennington while he packed them in the bundle and strapped +them on the saddle.</p> + +<p>"Now," said she at last, "we have nothing more to think of until we go +home."</p> + +<p>She was like a child, playing with exhaustless spirits at the most +trivial games. Not for a moment would she listen to anything of a +serious nature. Bennington, with the heavier pertinacity of men when +they have struck a congenial vein, tried to repeat to some extent the +experience of the last afternoon at the rock. Mary laughed his +sentiment to ridicule and his poetics to scorn. Everything he said she +twisted into something funny or ridiculous. He wanted to sit down and +enjoy the calm peace of the little ravine in which they had pitched +their temporary camp, but she made a quiet life miserable to him. At +last in sheer desperation he arose to pursue, whereupon she vanished +lightly into the underbrush. A moment later he heard her clear laugh +mocking him from some elder thickets a hundred yards away. Bennington +pursued with ardour. It was as though a slow-turning ocean liner were +to try to run down a lively little yacht.</p> + +<p>Bennington had always considered girls as weak creatures, incapable of +swift motion, and needing assistance whenever the country departed from +the artificial level of macadam. He had also thought himself fairly +active. He revised these ideas. This girl could travel through the thin +brush of the creek bottom two feet to his one, because she ran more +lightly and surely, and her endurance was not a matter for discussion. +The question of second wind did not concern her any more than it does a +child, whose ordinary mode of progression is heartbreaking. Bennington +found that he was engaged in the most delightful play of his life. He +shouted aloud with the fun of it. He had the feeling that he was +grasping at a sunbeam, or a mist-shape that always eluded him.</p> + +<p>He would lose her utterly, and would stand quite motionless, listening, +for a long time. Suddenly, without warning, an exaggerated leaf crown +would fall about his neck, and he would be overwhelmed with ridicule at +the outrageous figure he presented. Then for a time she seemed +everywhere at once. The mottled sunlight under the trees danced and +quivered after her, smiling and darkening as she dimpled or was grave. +The little whirlwinds of the gulches seized the leaves and danced with +her too, the birches and aspens tossed their hands, and rising ever +higher and wilder and more elf-like came the mocking cadences of her +laughter.</p> + +<p>After a time she disappeared again. Bennington stood still, waiting for +some new prank, but he waited in vain. He instituted a search, but the +search was fruitless. He called, but received no reply. At last he made +his way again to the dell in which they had lunched, and there he found +her, flat on her back, looking at the little summer clouds through +wide-open eyes.</p> + +<p>Her mood appeared to have changed. Indeed that seemed to be +characteristic of her; that her lightness was not so much the lightness +of thistle down, which is ever airy, the sport of every wind, but +rather that of the rose vine, mobile and swaying in every breeze, yet +at the same time rooted well in the wholesome garden earth. She cared +now to be silent. In a little while Bennington saw that she had fallen +asleep. For the first time he looked upon her face in absolute repose.</p> + +<p>Feature by feature, line by line, he went over it, and into his heart +crept that peculiar yearning which seems, on analysis, half pity for +what has past and half fear for what may come. It is bestowed on little +children, and on those whose natures, in spite of their years, are +essentially childlike. For this girl's face was so pathetically young. +Its sensitive lips pouted with a child's pout, its pointed chin was +delicate with the delicacy that is lost when the teeth have had often +to be clenched in resolve; its cheek was curved so softly, its long +eyelashes shaded that cheek so purely. Yet somewhere, like an +intangible spirit which dwelt in it, unseen except through its littlest +effects, Bennington seemed to trace that subtle sadness, or still more +subtle mystery, which at times showed so strongly in her eyes. He +caught himself puzzling over it, trying to seize it. It was most like a +sorrow, and yet like a sorrow which had been outlived. Or, if a +mystery, it was as a mystery which was such only to others, no longer +to herself. The whole line of thought was too fine-drawn for +Bennington's untrained perceptions. Yet again, all at once, he realized +that this very fact was one of the girl's charms to him; that her mere +presence stirred in him perceptions, intuitions, thoughts—yes, even +powers—which he had never known before. He felt that she developed +him. He found that instead of being weak he was merely latent; that now +the latent perceptions were unfolding. Since he had known her he had +felt himself more of a man, more ready to grapple with facts and +conditions on his own behalf, more inclined to take his own view of the +world and to act on it. She had given him independence, for she had +made him believe in himself, and belief in one's self is the first +principle of independence. Bennington de Laney looked back on his old +New York self as on a being infinitely remote.</p> + +<p>She awoke and opened her eyes slowly, and looked at him without +blinking. The sun had gone nearly to the ridge top, and a Wilson's +thrush was celebrating with his hollow notes the artificial twilight +of its shadow.</p> + +<p>She smiled at him a little vaguely, the mists of sleep clouding her +eyes. It is the unguarded moment, the instant of awakening. At such an +instant the mask falls from before the features of the soul. I do not +know what Bennington saw.</p> + +<p>"Mary, Mary!" he cried uncontrolledly, "I love you! I love you, girl."</p> + +<p>He had never before seen any one so vexed. She sat up at once.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>why</i> did you have to say that!" she cried angrily. "Why did you +have to spoil things! Why couldn't you have let it go along as it was +without bringing <i>that</i> into it!"</p> + +<p>She arose and began to walk angrily up and down, kicking aside the +sticks and stones as she encountered them.</p> + +<p>"I was just beginning to like you, and now you do this. <i>Oh</i>, I am so +angry!" She stamped her little foot. "I thought I had found a man for +once who could be a good friend to me, whom I could meet unguardedly, +and behold! the third day he tells me this!"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," stammered Bennington, his new tenderness fleeing, +frightened, into the inner recesses of his being. "I beg your pardon, I +didn't know—<i>Don't</i>! I won't say it again. Please!"</p> + +<p>The declaration had been manly. This was ridiculously boyish. The girl +frowned at him in two minds as to what to do.</p> + +<p>"Really, truly," he assured her.</p> + +<p>She laughed a little, scornfully. "Very well, I'll give you one more +chance. I like you too well to drop you entirely." (What an air of +autocracy she took, to be sure!) "You mustn't speak of that again. And +you must forget it entirely." She lowered at him, a delicious picture +of wrath.</p> + +<p>They saddled the horses and took their way homeward in silence. The +tenderness put out its flower head from the inner sanctuary. Apparently +the coast was clear. It ventured a little further. The evening was very +shadowy and sweet and musical with birds. The tenderness boldly invaded +Bennington's eyes, and spoke, oh, so timidly, from his lips.</p> + +<p>"I will do just as you say," it hesitated, "and I'll be very, very +good indeed. But am I to have no hope at all?"</p> + +<p>"Why can't you keep off that standpoint entirely?"</p> + +<p>"Just that one question; then I will."</p> + +<p>"Well," grudgingly, "I suppose nothing on earth could keep the average +mortal from hoping; but I can't answer that there is any ground for +it."</p> + +<p>"When can I speak of it again?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know—after the Pioneer's Picnic."</p> + +<p>"That is when you cease to be a mystery, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>She sighed. "That is when I become a greater mystery—even to myself, I +fear," she added in a murmur too low for him to catch.</p> + +<p>They rode on in silence for a little space more. The night shadows were +flowing down between the trees like vapour. The girl of her own accord +returned to the subject.</p> + +<p>"You are greatly to be envied," she said a little sadly, "for you are +really young. I am old, oh, very, very old! You have trust and +confidence. I have not. I can sympathize; I can understand. But that +is all. There is something within me that binds all my emotions so fast +that I can not give way to them. I want to. I wish I could. But it is +getting harder and harder for me to think of absolutely trusting, in +the sense of giving out the self that is my own. Ah, but you are to be +envied! You have saved up and accumulated the beautiful in your nature. +I have wasted mine, and now I sit by the roadside and cry for it. My +only hope and prayer is that a higher and better something will be +given me in place of the wasted, and yet I have no right to expect it. +Silly, isn't it?" she concluded bitterly.</p> + +<p>Bennington made no reply.</p> + +<p>They drew near the gulch, and could hear the mellow sound of bells as +the town herd defiled slowly down it toward town.</p> + +<p>"We part here," the young man broke the long silence. "When do I see +you again?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Day after?"</p> + +<p>The girl shook herself from a reverie. "If you want me to believe you, +come every afternoon to the Rock, and wait. Some day I will meet you +there."</p> + +<p>She was gone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>OLD MIZZOU RESIGNS</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington went faithfully to the Rock for four days. During whole +afternoons he sat there looking out over the Bad Lands. At sunset he +returned to camp. <i>Aliris: A Romance of all Time</i> gathered dust. +Letters home remained unwritten. Prospecting was left to the capable +hands of Old Mizzou until, much to Bennington's surprise, that +individual resigned his position.</p> + +<p>The samples lay in neatly tied coffee sacks just outside the door. The +tabulations and statistics only needed copying to prepare them for the +capitalist's eye. The information necessary to the understanding of +them reposed in a grimy notebook, requiring merely throwing into shape +as a letter to make them valuable to the Eastern owner of the property. +Anybody could do that.</p> + +<p>Old Mizzou explained these things to Bennington.</p> + +<p>"You-all does this jes's well's I," he said. "You expresses them +samples East, so as they kin assay 'em; an' you sends them notes and +statistics. Then all they is to do is to pay th' rest of the boys when +th' money rolls in. That ain't none of my funeral."</p> + +<p>"But there's the assessment work," Bennington objected.</p> + +<p>"That comes along all right. I aims to live yere in the camp jest th' +same as usual; and I'll help yo' git started when you-all aims to do +th' work."</p> + +<p>"What do you want to quit for, then? If you live here, you may as well +draw your pay."</p> + +<p>"No, sonny, that ain't my way. I has some prospectin' of my own to do, +an' as long as I is a employay of Bishop, I don't like to take his time +fer my work."</p> + +<p>Bennington thought this very high-minded on the part of Old Mizzou.</p> + +<p>"Very well," he agreed, "I'll write Bishop."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," put in the miner hastily, "no need to trouble. I resigns in +writin', of course; an' I sees to it myself."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, if you'll help me with the assessment work, when shall we +begin?"</p> + +<p>"C'yant jest now," reflected Old Mizzou, "'cause, as I tells you, I +wants to do some work of my own. A'ter th' Pioneer's Picnic, I +reckons."</p> + +<p>The Pioneer's Picnic seemed to limit many things.</p> + +<p>Bennington shipped the ore East, tabulated the statistics, and wrote +his report. About two weeks later he received a letter from Bishop +saying that the assay of the samples had been very poor—not at all up +to expectations—and asking some further information. As to the latter, +Bennington consulted Old Mizzou. The miner said, "I told you so," and +helped on the answer. After this the young man heard nothing further +from his employer. As no more checks came from the East, he found +himself with nothing to do.</p> + +<p>For four afternoons, as has been said, he fruitlessly haunted the Rock. +On the fifth morning he met the girl on horseback. She was quite the +same as at first, and they resumed their old relations as if the fatal +picnic had never taken place. In a very few days they were as intimate +as though they had known each other for years.</p> + +<p>Bennington read to her certain rewritten parts of <i>Aliris: A Romance of +all Time,</i> which would have been ridiculous to any but these two. They +saw it through the glamour of youth; for, in spite of her assertions of +great age, the girl, too, felt the whirl of that elixir in her veins. You +see, he was twenty-one and she was twenty: magic years, more venerable +than threescore and ten. She gave him sympathy, which was just what he +needed for the sake of his self-confidence and development, just the +right thing for him in that effervescent period which is so necessary a +concomitant of growth. The young business man indulges in a hundred wild +schemes, to be corrected by older heads. The young artist paints strange +impressionism, stranger symbolism, and perhaps a strangest other-ism, +before at last he reaches the medium of his individual genius. The young +writer thinks deep and philosophical thoughts which he expresses in +measured polysyllabic language; he dreams wild dreams of ideal motive, +which he sets forth in beautiful allegorical tales full of imagery; and +he delights in Rhetoric—flower-crowned, flashing-eyed, deep-voiced +Rhetoric, whom he clasps to his heart and believes to be true, although +the whole world declares her to be false; and then, after a time, he +decides not to introduce a new system of metaphysics, but to tell a plain +story plainly. Ah, it is a beautiful time to those who dwell in it, and +such a funny time to those who do not!</p> + +<p>They came to possess an influence over each other. She decided how they +should meet; he, how they should act. She had only to be gay, and he +was gay; to be sad, and he was sad; to show her preference for serious +discourse, and he talked quietly of serious things; to sigh for dreams, +and he would rhapsodize. It sometimes terrified her almost when she saw +how much his mood depended on hers. But once the mood was established, +her dominance ceased and his began. If they were sad or gay or +thoughtful or poetic, it was in his way and not in hers. He took the +lead masterfully, and perhaps the more effectually in that it was done +unconsciously. And in a way which every reader will understand, but +which genius alone could put into words, this mutual psychical +dependence made them feel the need of each other more strongly than any +merely physical dependence ever could.</p> + +<p>There is much to do in a new and romantic country, where the imminence +of a sordid, dreary future, when the soil will raise its own people and +the crop will be poor, is mercifully veiled. The future then counts +little in the face of the Past—the Past with its bearded strong men of +other lands, bringing their power and vigour here to be moulded and +directed by the influences of the frontier. Its shadow still lies over +the land.</p> + +<p>They did it all. The Rock was still the favourite place to read or +talk—crossbars nailed on firmly made "shinning" unnecessary now—but +it was often deserted for days while they explored. Bennington had +bought the little bronco, and together they extended their +investigations of the country in all directions. They rode to Spring +Creek Valley. They passed the Range over into Custer Valley. Once they +climbed Harney by way of Grizzly Gulch.</p> + +<p>Thus they grew to know the Hills intimately. From the summit of the +Rock they would often look abroad over the tangle of valleys and +ridges, selecting the objective points for their next expedition. Many +surprises awaited them, for they found that here, as everywhere, a +seemingly uniform exterior covered an almost infinite variety.</p> + +<p>Or again, the horses were given a rest. The sarvis-berries ripened, and +they picked hatfuls. Then followed the raspberries on the stony hills. +They walked four unnecessary miles to see a forest fire, and six to buy +buckskin work from a band of Sioux who had come up into the timber for +their annual supply of tepee poles. They taught their ponies tricks. +They even went wading together, like two small children, in a pool of +Battle Creek.</p> + +<p>Bennington was deliciously, carelessly, forgetfully happy. Only there +was Jim Fay. That individual was as much of a persecution as ever, and +he seemed to enjoy a greater intimacy with the girl than did the +Easterner. He did not see her as often as did the latter, but he +appeared to be more in her confidence. Bennington hated Jim Fay.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE SPIRES OF STONE</h3> +<br> + +<p>One afternoon they had pushed over back of Harney, up a very steep +little trail in a very tiny cleft-like cañon, verdant and cool. All at +once the trail had stood straight on end. The ponies scrambled up +somehow, and they found themselves on a narrow open <i>mesa</i> splashed +with green moss and matted with an aromatic covering of pine needles.</p> + +<p>Beyond the easternmost edge of the plateau stood great spires of stone, +a dozen in all, several hundred feet high, and of solid granite. They +soared up grandly into the open blue, like so many cathedral spires, +drawing about them that air of solitude and stillness which accompanies +always the sublime in Nature. Even boundless space was amplified at the +bidding of their solemn uplifted fingers. The girl reined in her horse.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she murmured in a hushed voice, "I feel impertinent—as though I +were intruding."</p> + +<p>A squirrel many hundreds of feet below could be heard faintly barking.</p> + +<p>"There <i>is</i> something solemn about them," the boy agreed in the same +tone, "but, after all, we are nothing to them. They are thinking their +own thoughts, far above everything in the world."</p> + +<p>She slipped from her horse.</p> + +<p>"Let's sit here and watch them," she said. "I want to look at them, and +<i>feel</i> them."</p> + +<p>They sat on the moss, and stared solemnly across at the great spires of +stone.</p> + +<p>"They are waiting for something there," she observed; "for something +that has not come to pass, and they are looking for it always toward +the East. Don't you see how they are waiting?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, like Indian warriors wrapped each in his blanket. They might be +the Manitous. They say there are lots of them in the Hills."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course!" she cried, on fire with the idea. "They are the Gods +of the people, and they are waiting for something that is +coming—something from the East. What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Civilization," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"Yes! And when this something, this Civilization, comes, then the +Indians are to be destroyed, and so their Gods are always watching for +it toward the East."</p> + +<p>"And," he went on, "when it comes at last, then the Manitous will have +to die, and so the Indians know that their hour has struck when these +great stone needles fall."</p> + +<p>"Why, we have made a legend," she exclaimed with wonder.</p> + +<p>They stretched out on their backs along the slope, and stared up at the +newly dignified Manitous in delicious silence.</p> + +<p>"There was a legend once, you remember?" he began hesitatingly, "the +first day we were on the Rock together. It was about a Spirit +Mountain."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember, the day we saw the Shadow."</p> + +<p>"You said you'd tell it to me some time."</p> + +<p>"Did I?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you think now is a good time?"</p> + +<p>She considered a moment idly.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, I suppose so," she assented, after a pause. "It isn't much +of a legend though." She clasped her hands back of her head. "It goes +like this," she began comfortably:</p> + +<p>"Once upon a time, when the world was very young, there was an evil +Manitou named <i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i>. He was a very wicked Manitou, but he +was also very accomplished, for he could change himself into any shape +he wished to assume, and he could travel swifter than the wind. But he +was also very wicked. In old times the centres of all the trees were +fat, and people could get food from them, but <i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i> walked +through the forest and pushed his staff down through the middle of the +trunks, and that is why the cores of the trees are dark-coloured. Maple +sap used to be pure sirup once, too, but <i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i> diluted it +with rain water just out of spite. But there was one peculiar thing +about <i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i>. He could not cross a vein of gold or of silver. +There was some sort of magic in them that turned him back—repelled +him.</p> + +<p>"Now, one day two lovers were wandering about on the prairie away east +of here. One of them was named <i>Mon-e-dowa</i>, or the Bird Lover, and the +other was <i>Muj-e-ah-je-wan</i>, or Rippling Water. And as these two walked +over the plains talking together, along came the evil spirit, +<i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i>, and as soon as he saw them he chased them, intending +to kill them and drink their blood, as was his custom.</p> + +<p>"They fled far over the prairie. Everywhere that <i>Muj-e-ah-je-wan</i> +stepped, prairie violets grew up; and everywhere that <i>Mon-e-dowa</i> +stepped, a lark sprang up and began to sing. But the wicked +<i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i> gained on them fast, for he could run very swiftly.</p> + +<p>"Then suddenly they saw in front of them a great mountain, grown with +pines and seamed with fissures. This astonished them greatly, for they +knew there were no mountains in the prairie country at all; but they +had no time to spare, so they climbed quickly up a broad cañon and +concealed themselves.</p> + +<p>"Now, when the wicked Manitou came along he tried to enter the cañon +too, but he had to stop, because down in the depths of the mountain +were veins of gold and silver which he could not cross. For many days +he raged back and forth, but in vain. At last he got tired and went +away.</p> + +<p>"Then <i>Mon-e-dowa</i> and <i>Muj-e-ah-je-wan</i>, who had been living quite +peacefully on the game with which the mountain swarmed, came out of the +cañon and turned toward home. But as soon as they had set foot on the +level prairie again, the mountain vanished like a cloud, and then they +knew they had been aided by <i>Man-a-boo-sho</i>, the good Manitou."</p> + +<p>The girl arose and shook her skirt free of the pine needles that clung +to it.</p> + +<p>"Ever since then," she went on, eyeing Bennington saucily sideways, +"the mountain has been invisible except to a very few. The legend says +that when a maid and a warrior see it together they will be----"</p> + +<p>"What?" asked Bennington as she paused.</p> + +<p>"Dead within the year!" she cried gaily, and ran lightly to her pony.</p> + +<p>"Did you like my legend?" she asked, as the ponies, foot-bunched, +minced down the steepest of the trail.</p> + +<p>"Very much; all but the moral."</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to die?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll have to."</p> + +<p>"That would be the same thing."</p> + +<p>And Bennington dared talk in this way, for the next day began the +Pioneer's Picnic, and lately she had been very kind.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>THE PIONEER'S PICNIC</h3> +<br> + +<p>The Lawtons were not going to the picnic. Bennington was to take Mary +down to Rapid, where the girl was to stay with a certain Dr. McPherson +of the School of Mines.</p> + +<p>An early start was accomplished. They rode down the gulch through the +dwarf oaks, past the farthermost point, and so out into the hard level +dirt road of Battle Creek cañon. Beyond were the pines, and a rugged +road, flint-edged, full of dips and rises, turns and twists, hovering +on edges, or bosoming itself in deep rock-strewn cuts. Mary's little +pony cantered recklessly through it all, scampering along like a +playful dog after a stone, leading Bennington's larger animal by +several feet. He had full leisure to notice the regular flop of the Tam +o'Shanter over the lighter dance of the hair, the increasing rosiness +of the cheeks dimpled into almost continual laughter, to catch stray +snatches of gay little remarks thrown out at random as they tore along. +After a time they drew out from the shadow of the pines into the +clearing at Rockerville, where the hydraulic "giants" had eaten away +the hill-sides, and left in them ugly unhealed sores. Then more rough +pine-shadowed roads, from which occasionally would open for a moment +broad vistas of endless glades, clear as parks, breathless descents, or +sharp steep cuts at the bottom of which Spring Creek, or as much of it +as was not turned into the Rockerville sluices, brawled or idled along. +It was time for lunch, so they dismounted near a deep still pool and +ate. The ponies cropped the sparse grasses, or twisted on their backs, +all four legs in the air. Squirrels chattered and scolded overhead. +Some of the indigo-coloured jays of the lowlands shot in long level +flight between the trees. The girl and the boy helped each other, +hindered each other, playing here and there near the Question, but +swerving always deliciously just in time.</p> + +<p>After lunch, more riding through more pines. The road dipped strongly +once, then again; and then abruptly the forest ceased, and they found +themselves cantering over broad rolling meadows knee-high with grasses, +from which meadow larks rose in all directions like grasshoppers. Soon +after they passed the canvas "schooners" of some who had started the +evening before. Down the next long slope the ponies dropped cautiously +with bunched feet and tentative steps. Spring Creek was forded for the +last time, another steep grassy hill was surmounted, and they looked +abroad into Rapid Valley and over to the prairie beyond.</p> + +<p>Behind them the Hills lay, dark with the everlasting greenery of the +North—even, low, with only sun-browned Harney to raise its cliff-like +front above the rest of the range. As though by a common impulse they +reined in their horses and looked back.</p> + +<p>"I wonder just where the Rock is?" she mused.</p> + +<p>They tried to guess at its location.</p> + +<p>The treeless ridge on which they were now standing ran like a belt +outside the Hills. They journeyed along its summit until late in the +afternoon, and then all at once found the city of Rapid lying below +them at the mouth of a mighty cañon, like a toy village on fine velvet +brown.</p> + +<p>In the city they separated, Mary going to the McPhersons', Bennington +to the hotel. It was now near to sunset, so it was agreed that +Bennington was to come round the following morning to get her. At the +hotel Bennington spent an interesting evening viewing the pioneers with +their variety of costume, manners, and speech. He heard many good +stories, humorous and blood-curdling, and it was very late before he +finally got to bed.</p> + +<p>The immediate consequence was that he was equally late to breakfast. He +hurried through that meal and stepped out into the street, with the +intention of hastening to Dr. McPherson's for Mary, but this he found +to be impossible because of the overcrowded condition of the streets. +The sports of the day had already begun. From curb to curb the way was +jammed with a dense mass of men, women, and children, through whom he +had to worm his way. After ten feet of this, he heard his name called, +and looking up, caught sight of Mary herself, perched on a dry-goods +box, frantically waving a handkerchief in his direction.</p> + +<p>"You're a nice one!" she cried in mock reproach as he struggled toward +her. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flew red signals of enjoyment.</p> + +<p>Bennington explained.</p> + +<p>"I know. Well, it didn't matter, any way. I just captured this box. +Climb up. There's room. I've lost the doctor and Mrs. McPherson +already."</p> + +<p>Two mounted men, decorated with huge tin marshals' badges, rode slowly +along forcing the crowd back to the right and to the left. The first +horse race was on. Suddenly there was an eager scramble, a cloud of +dust, a swift impression of dim ghostlike figures. It was over. The +crowd flowed into the street again.</p> + +<p>The two pressed together, hand in hand, on the top of the dry-goods +box. They laughed at each other and everything. Something beautiful was +very near to them, for this was the Pioneer's Picnic, and both +remembered that the Pioneer's Picnic marked the limit of many things.</p> + +<p>"What's next? What's next?" she called excitedly to a tall young +cattleman.</p> + +<p>The cowboy looked up at her, and his face relaxed into a pleased smile.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's a drillin' match over in the next street, miss," he answered +politely. "You'd better run right along over and get a good place." He +glanced at de Laney, smiled again, and turned away, apparently to +follow his own advice.</p> + +<p>"Come on, we'll follow him," cried Mary, jumping down.</p> + +<p>"And abandon our box?" objected Bennington. But she was already in full +pursuit of the tall cowboy.</p> + +<p>The ring around the large boulder—dragged by mule team from the +hills—had just begun to form when they arrived, so they were enabled +to secure good places near the front rank, where they kneeled on their +handkerchiefs, and the crowd hemmed them in at the back. The drilling +match was to determine which pair of contestants could in a given +time, with sledge and drill, cut the deepest hole in a granite boulder. +To one who stood apart, the sight must have been picturesque in the +extreme. The white dust, stirred by restless feet, rose lazily across +the heated air. The sun shone down clear and hot with a certain +wide-eyed glare that is seen only in the rarefied atmosphere of the +West. Around the outer edge of the ring hovered a few anxious small +boys, agonized that they were missing part of the show. Stolidly +indifferent Indians, wrapped close in their blankets, smoked silently, +awaiting the next pony race, the riders of which were skylarking about +trying to pull each other from their horses' backs.</p> + +<p>When the last pair had finished, the judges measured the depths of the +holes drilled, and announced the victors.</p> + +<p>The crowd shouted and broke for the saloons. The latter had been plying +a brisk business, so that men were about ready to embrace in +brotherhood or in battle with equal alacrity.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it was the dinner hour. The crowd broke. Bennington and Mary +realized they had been wandering about hand in hand. They directed +their steps toward the McPhersons with the greatest propriety. It was a +glorious picnic.</p> + +<p>The house was gratefully cool and dark after the summer heat out of +doors. The little doctor sat in the darkest room and dissertated +cannily on the strange variety of subjects which a Scotchman can always +bring up on the most ordinary occasions.</p> + +<p>The doctor was not only a learned man, as was evidenced by his position +in the School of Mines and his wonderful collections, but was a scout +of long standing, a physician of merit, and an Indian authority of +acknowledged weight. Withal he was so modest that these things became +known only by implication or hearsay, never by direct evidence. Mrs. +McPherson was not Scotch at all, but plain comfortable American, +redolent of wholesome cleanliness and good temper, and beaming with +kindliness and round spectacles. Never was such a doctor; never was +such a Mrs. McPherson; never was such a dinner! And they brought in +after-dinner coffee in small cups.</p> + +<p>"Ah, ha! Mr. de Laney," laughed the doctor, who had been watching him +with quizzical eye. "We're pretty bad, but we aren't got quite to +savagery yet."</p> + +<p>Bennington hastened to disavow.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," the doctor reassured him; "that's all right. I +didn't wonder at ye in this country, but Mrs. McPherson and mysel' jest +take a wee trip occasionally to keep our wits bright. Isn't it so, Mrs. +Mac?"</p> + +<p>"It is that," said she with a doubtful inner thought as to the +propriety of offering cream.</p> + +<p>"And as for you," went on the doctor dissertatively, "I suppose ye're +getting to be somewhat of a miner yourself. I mind me we did a bit of +assay work for your people the other day—the Crazy Horse, wasn't it? A +good claim I should judge, from the sample, and so I wrote Davidson."</p> + +<p>"When was this?" asked the Easterner, puzzled.</p> + +<p>"The last week."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know he had had any assaying done."</p> + +<p>"O weel," said the doctor comfortably, "it may not have occurred to him +to report yet. It was rich."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. McPherson, let's talk about dresses," called Mary across the +table. "Here we've come down for a <i>holiday</i> and they insist on talking +mining."</p> + +<p>And so the subject was dropped, but Bennington could not get it out of +his mind. Why should Mizzou have had the Crazy Horse assayed without +saying anything about it to him? Why had he not reported the result? +How did it happen that the doctor's assistants had found the ore rich +when the company's assayers East had proved it poor? Why should Mizzou +have it assayed at all, since he was no longer connected with the +company? But, above all, supposing he had done this with the intention +of keeping it secret from Bennington, what possible benefit or +advantage could the old man derive from such an action?</p> + +<p>He puzzled over this. It seemed to still the effervescence of his joy. +He realized suddenly that he had been very careless in a great many +respects. The work had all been trusted to Davidson, while he, often, +had never even seen it. He had been entirely occupied with the girl. He +experienced that sudden sinking feeling which always comes to a man +whom neglected duty wakes from pleasure.</p> + +<p>What was Davidson's object? Could it be that he hoped to "buy in" a +rich claim at a low figure, and to that end had sent poor samples East? +The more he thought of this the more reasonable it seemed. His +resignation was for the purpose of putting him in the position of +outside purchaser.</p> + +<p>He resolved to carry through the affair diplomatically. During the +afternoon he ruminated on how this was to be done. Mary could not +understand his preoccupation. It piqued her. A slight strangeness +sprang up between them which he was too <i>distrait</i> to notice. Finally, +as he tumbled into bed that night, an idea so brilliant came to him +that he sat bolt upright in sheer delight at his own astuteness.</p> + +<p>He would ask Dr. McPherson for a copy of the assays. If his suspicions +were correct, these assays would represent the richest samples. He +would send them at once to Bishop with a statement of the case, in that +manner putting the capitalist on his guard. There was something +exquisitely humorous to him in the idea of thus turning to his own use +the information which Davidson had accumulated for his fraudulent +purposes. He went to sleep chuckling over it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN</h3> +<br> + +<p>The next morning the young man had quite regained his good spirits. The +girl, on the other hand, was rather quiet.</p> + +<p>Dr. McPherson made no objections to furnishing a copy of the assays. +The records, however, were at the School of Mines. He drove down to get +them, and in the interim the two young people, at Mrs. McPherson's +suggestion, went to see the train come in.</p> + +<p>The platform of the station was filled to suffocation. Assuming that +the crowd's intention was to view the unaccustomed locomotive, it was +strange it did not occur to them that the opposite side of the track or +the adjacent prairie would afford more elbow room. They huddled +together on the boards of the platform as though the appearance of the +spectacle depended on every last individual's keeping his feet from the +naked earth. They pushed good-naturedly here and there, expostulating, +calling to one another facetiously, looking anxiously down the +straight, dwindling track for the first glimpse of the locomotive.</p> + +<p>Mary and Bennington found themselves caught up at once into the vortex. +After a few moments of desperate clinging together, they were forced +into the front row, where they stood on the very edge, braced back +against the pressure, half laughing, half vexed.</p> + +<p>The train drew in with a grinding rush. From the step swung the +conductor. Faces looked from the open windows.</p> + +<p>On the platform of one of the last cars stood a young girl and three +men. One of the men was elderly, with white hair and side whiskers. The +other two were young and well dressed. The girl was of our best +patrician type—the type that may know little, think little, say +little, and generally amount to little, and yet carry its negative +qualities with so used an air of polite society as to raise them by +sheer force to the dignity of positive virtues. From head to foot she +was faultlessly groomed. From eye to attitude she was languidly +superior—the impolitic would say bored. Yet every feature of her +appearance and bearing, even to the very tips of her enamelled and +sensibly thick boots, implied that she was of a different class from +the ordinary, and satisfied on "common people" that impulse which +attracts her lesser sisters to the vulgar menagerie. She belonged to +the proper street—at the proper time of day. Any one acquainted with +the species would have known at once that this private-car trip to +Deadwood was to please the prosperous-looking gentleman with the side +whiskers, and that it was made bearable only by the two smooth-shaven +individuals in the background.</p> + +<p>She caught sight of the pair directly in front of her, and raised her +lorgnette with a languid wrist.</p> + +<p>Her stare was from the outside-the-menagerie standpoint. Bennington was +not used to it. For the moment he had the Fifth Avenue feeling, and +knew that he was not properly dressed. Therefore, naturally, he was +confused. He lowered his head and blushed a little. Then he became +conscious that Mary's clear eyes were examining him in a very troubled +fashion.</p> + +<p>Three hours and a half afterward it suddenly occurred to him that she +might have thought he had blushed and lowered his head because he was +ashamed to be seen by this other girl in her company; but it was then +too late.</p> + +<p>The train pulled out. The Westerners at once scattered in all +directions. Half an hour later the choking cloud dusts rose like smoke +from the different trails that led north or south or west to the heart +of the Hills.</p> + +<p>"The picnic is over," he suggested gently at their noon camping place.</p> + +<p>"Yes, thank Heaven!"</p> + +<p>"You remember your promise?"</p> + +<p>"What promise?"</p> + +<p>"That you would explain your 'mystery.'"</p> + +<p>"I've changed my mind."</p> + +<p>A leaf floated slowly down the wind. A raven croaked. The breeze made +the sunbeams waver.</p> + +<p>"Mary, the picnic is over," he repeated again very gently.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, yes!"</p> + +<p>"I love you, Mary."</p> + +<p>The raven spread his wings and flew away.</p> + +<p>"Do you love me?" he insisted gently.</p> + +<p>"I want you to come to dinner at our house to-morrow noon."</p> + +<p>"That is a strange answer, Mary."</p> + +<p>"It is all the answer you'll get to-day."</p> + +<p>"Why are you so cross? Is anything the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"I love you, Mary. I love you, girl. At least I can say that now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you can say it—now."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>A NOON DINNER</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington did not know what to make of his invitation. At one moment +he told himself it must mean that Mary loved him, and that she wished +him to meet her parents on that account. At the next he tormented +himself with the conviction that she thus merely avoided the issue. +Between these moods he alternated, without being able to abide in +either. He forgot all about Old Mizzou.</p> + +<p>Promptly at noon the following day he turned up the little right-hand +trail for the first time.</p> + +<p>The Lawton house he found, first of all, to be scrupulously neat. It +stood on a knoll, as do most gulch cabins, in order that occasional +freshets might pass below, and the knoll looked as though it had been +clipped with a pair of scissors. Not a crooked little juniper bush was +allowed to intrude its plebeian sprawl among the dignified pines and +the gracefully infrequent bushes. In front of the cabin itself was a +"rockery" of pink quartz, on which were piled elk antlers. The building +was L-shaped, of two low stories, had a veranda with a railing, and +possessed various ornamental wood edgings, all of which were painted. +The whole affair was mathematically squared and correspondingly neat. +Some boxes and pots of flowers adorned the window ledges.</p> + +<p>Bennington's knock was answered by an elderly woman, who introduced +herself at once as Mrs. Lawton. She commenced a voluble and slightly +embarrassed explanation of how "she" would be down in a moment or so, +at the same time leading the way into the parlour. While this +explanation was going forward, Bennington had a good chance to examine +his hostess and her surroundings.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lawton was of the fat but energetic variety. She fairly shone with +cleanliness and with an insistent determination to keep busy. You could +see that all the time her tongue was uttering polite platitudes +concerning the weather, her mind was hovering like a dragon fly over +this or that flower of domestic economy. She was one of the women who +carry their housekeeping to a perfection uncomfortable both to herself +and everybody else, and then delude themselves into the martyrlike +belief that she is doing it all entirely for others. As a consequence, +she exhibited much of the time an aggrieved air that comported but +ludicrously with her tendency to bustle. And it must be confessed that +in other ways Mrs. Lawton was ludicrous. Her dumpy little form was +dressed in the loudest of prints, the figures of which turned her into +a huge flower bed of brilliant cabbage-like blooms. Over this chaos of +colours peered her round little face with its snapping eyes. She +discoursed in sentences which began coherently, but frayed out soon +into nothingness under the stress of inner thought. "I don't see where +that husban' of mine is. I reckon you'll think we're just awful rude, +Mr. de Laney, and that gal, an' Maude. I declare it's jest enough to +try any one's patience, it surely is. You've no idea, Mr. de Laney, +what with the hens settin', and this mis'able dry spell that sends th' +dust all over everything and every one 'way behin' hand on +everythin'----" Her eye was becoming vacant as she wondered about +certain biscuits.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure it must be," agreed Bennington uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>"What was I a-sayin'? You must excuse me, Mr. de Laney, but you, being +a man, can have no idea of the life us poor women folks lead, slavin' +our very lives away to keep things runnin', and then no thanks fer it +a'ter all. I'd just like t' see Bill Lawton try it <i>fer jest one week</i>. +He'd be a ravin' lunatic, an' thet I tell him often. This country's +jest awful, too. I tell him he must get out sometimes, and I 'spect he +will, when he's made his pile, poor man, an' then we'll have a chanst +to go back East again. When we lived East, Mr. de Laney, we had a +house—not like this little shack; a good house with nigh on to a dozen +rooms, and I had a gal to help me and some chanst to buy things once in +a while, but now that Bill Lawton's moved West, what's goin' to become +o' me I don't know. I'm nigh wore out with it all."</p> + +<p>"Then you lived East once?" asked Bennington.</p> + +<p>"Law, yes! We lived in Illinoy once, and th' Lord only knows I wisht we +lived there yet, though the farmin' was a sight of work and no pay +sometimes." The inner doubts as to the biscuits proved too much for +her. "Heaven knows, you ain't t' git much to eat," she cried, jumping +up, "but you ain't goin' to git anythin' a tall if I don't run right +off and tend to them biscuit."</p> + +<p>She bustled out. Bennington had time then to notice the decorations of +the "parlour." They offered to the eye a strange mixture of the East +and West—reminiscences of the old home in "Illinoy" and trophies of +the new camping-out on the frontier. From the ceiling hung a heavy lamp +with prismatic danglers, surrounded by a globe on which were depicted +stags in the act of leaping six-barred gates. By way of complement to +this gorgeous centrepiece, the paper on the walls showed, in infinitely +recurring duplicate, a huntress in green habit and big hat carrying on +a desperate flirtation with a young man in the habiliments of the +fifteenth century, while across the background a huddle of dogs pursued +a mammoth deer. Mathematically beneath the lamp stood a table covered +with a red-figured spread. On the table was a glass bell, underneath +which were wax flowers and a poorly-stuffed robin. In one angle of the +room austerely huddled a three-cornered "whatnot" of four shelves. Two +china pugs and a statuette of a simpering pair of children under a +massive umbrella adorned this article of furniture. On the wall ticked +an old-fashioned square wooden clock. The floor was concealed by a rag +carpet. So much for the East. The West contributed brilliant green +copper ore, flaky white tin ore, glittering white quartz ore, shining +pyrites, and one or two businesslike specimens of oxygenated quartz, +all of which occupied points of exhibit on the "whatnot." Over the +carpet were spread a deer skin, and a rug made from the hide of a +timber wolf. Bennington found all this interesting but depressing. He +was glad when Mrs. Lawton returned and took up her voluble discourse.</p> + +<p>In the midst of a dissertation on the relation of corn meal to eggs +the door opened, and Mr. Lawton sidled in.</p> + +<p>"Oh, here y' are at last!" observed his spouse scornfully, and rattled +on. Lawton nodded awkwardly, and perched himself on the edge of a +chair. He had assumed an ill-fitting suit of store clothes, in which he +unaccustomedly writhed, and evidently, to judge from the sleekness of +his hair, had recently plunged his head in a pail of water. He said +nothing, but whenever Mrs. Lawton was not looking he winked elaborately +and solemnly at Bennington as though to imply that circumstances alone +prevented any more open show of cordiality. At last, catching the young +man's eye at a more than usually propitious moment, he went through the +pantomime of opening a bottle, then furtively arose and disappeared. +Mrs. Lawton, remembering her cakes, ran out. Bennington was left alone +again. He had not spoken six words.</p> + +<p>The door slowly opened, and another member of the family sidled in. +Bennington owned a helpless feeling that this was a sort of show, and +that these various actors in it were parading their entrances and +their exits before him. Or that he himself were the object of +inspection on whom the others were satisfying their own curiosity.</p> + +<p>The newcomer was a child, a little girl about eight or ten years old. +Bennington liked children as a usual thing. No one on earth could have +become possessed in this one's favour. She was a creature of regular +but mean features, extreme gravity, and evidently of an inquiring +disposition. On seeing her for the first time, one sophisticated would +have expected a deluge of questions. Bennington did. But she merely +stood and stared without winking.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, little girl!" Bennington greeted her uneasily.</p> + +<p>The creature only stared the harder.</p> + +<p>"My doll's name is Garnet M-a-ay," she observed suddenly, with a +long-drawn nasal accent.</p> + +<p>After this interesting bit of information another silence fell.</p> + +<p>"What is your name, little girl?" Bennington asked desperately at +last.</p> + +<p>"Maude," remarked the phenomenon briefly.</p> + +<p>This statement she delivered in that whining tone which the extremely +self-conscious infant imagines to indicate playful childishness. She +approached.</p> + +<p>"D' you want t' see my picters?" she whimpered confidingly.</p> + +<p>Bennington expressed his delight.</p> + +<p>For seven geological ages did he gaze upon cheap and horrible woodcuts +of gentlemen in fashionable raiment trying to lean against +conspicuously inadequate rustic gates; equally fashionable ladies, with +flat chests, and rat's nest hair; and animals whose attitudes denoted +playful sportiveness of disposition. Each of these pictures was +explained in minute detail. Bennington's distress became apathy. Mrs. +Lawton returned from the cakes presently, yet her voice seemed to break +in on the duration of centuries.</p> + +<p>"Now, Maude!" she exclaimed, with a proper maternal pride, "you mustn't +be botherin' the gentleman." She paused to receive the expected +disclaimer. It was made, albeit a little weakly. "Maude is very good +with her Book," she explained. "Miss Brown, that's the school teacher +that comes over from Hill Town summers, she says Maude reads a sight +better than lots as is two or three years older. Now how old would you +think she was, Mr. de Laney?"</p> + +<p>Mr. de Laney tried to appraise, while the object hung her head +self-consciously and twisted her feet. He had no idea of children's +ages.</p> + +<p>"About eleven," he guessed, with an air of wisdom.</p> + +<p>"Jest eight an' a half!" cried the dame, folding her hands +triumphantly. She let her fond maternal gaze rest on the prodigy. +Suddenly she darted forward with extraordinary agility for one so well +endowed with flesh, and seized her offspring in relentless grasp.</p> + +<p>"I do declare, Maude Eliza!" she exclaimed in horror-stricken tones, +"you ain't washed your ears! You come with me!"</p> + +<p>They disappeared in a blue mist of wails.</p> + +<p>As though this were his cue, the crafty features of Lawton appeared +cautiously in the doorway, bestowed a furtive and searching inspection +on the room, and finally winked solemnly at its only occupant. A hand +was inserted. The forefinger beckoned. Bennington arose wearily and +went out.</p> + +<p>Lawton led the way to a little oat shed standing at some distance from +the house. Behind this he paused. From beneath his coat he drew a round +bottle and two glass tumblers.</p> + +<p>"No joke skippin' th' ole lady," he chuckled in an undertone. He poured +out a liberal portion for himself, and passed the bottle along. +Bennington was unwilling to hurt the old fellow's feelings after he had +taken so much trouble on his account, but he was equally unwilling to +drink the whisky. So he threw it away when Lawton was not looking.</p> + +<p>They walked leisurely toward the house, Lawton explaining various +improvements in a loud tone of voice, intended more to lull his wife's +suspicions than to edify the young man. The lady looked on them +sternly, and announced dinner. At the table Bennington found Mary +already seated.</p> + +<p>The Easterner was placed next to Mrs. Lawton. At his other hand was +Maude Eliza. Mary sat opposite. Throughout the meal she said little, +and only looked up from her plate when Bennington's attention was +called another way.</p> + +<p>Her mere presence, however, seemed to open to the young man a different +point of view. He found Mrs. Lawton's lengthy dissertations amusing; he +considered Mr. Lawton in the light of a unique character, and Maude +Eliza, while as disagreeable as ever, came in for various excuses and +explanations on her own behalf in the young man's mind. He became more +responsive. He told a number of very good stories, at which the others +laughed. He detailed some experiences of his own at places in the world +far remote, selected, it must be confessed, with some slight reference +to their dazzling effect on the company. Without actually "showing +off," he managed to get the effect of it. The result of his efforts was +to harmonize to some extent these diverse elements. Mrs. Lawton became +more coherent, Mr. Lawton more communicative; Maude Eliza stopped +whining—occasionally and temporarily. Bennington had rarely been in +such high spirits. He was surprised himself, but then was not that day +of moment to him, and would he not have been a strange sort of +individual to have seen in the world aught but brightness?</p> + +<p>But Mary responded not at all. Rather, as Bennington arose, she fell, +until at last she hardly even moved in her place.</p> + +<p>"Chirk up, chirk up!" cried Mrs. Lawton gaily, for her. "I know some +one who ought to be happy, anyhow." She glanced meaningly from one to +the other and laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>Bennington felt a momentary disgust at her tactlessness, but covered it +with some laughing sally of his own. The meal broke up in great good +humour. Mrs. Lawton and Maude Eliza remained to clear away the dishes. +Mr. Lawton remarked that he must get back to work, and shook hands in +farewell most elaborately. Bennington laughingly promised them all that +he would surely come again. Then he escaped, and followed Mary up the +hill, surmising truly enough that she had gone on toward the Rock. He +thought he caught a glimpse of her through the elders. He hastened his +footsteps. At this he stumbled slightly. From his pocket fell a letter +he had received that morning. He picked it up and looked at it idly.</p> + +<p>It was from his mother and covered a number of closely-written pages. +As he was about to thrust it back into his pocket a single sentence +caught his eye. It read: "Sally Ogletree gave a supper last week, which +was a very pretty affair."</p> + +<p>He stopped short on the trail, and the world seemed to go black around +him. He almost fell. Then resumed his way, but step now was hesitating +and slow, and he walked with his eyes bent thoughtfully on the ground.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>NOBLESSE OBLIGE</h3> +<br> + +<p>The thought which caused Bennington de Lane so suddenly look grave was +suggested by the sentence in his mother's letter. For the first time he +realized that these people, up to now so amusing, were possibly +destined to come into intimate relations with himself. Old Bill Lawton +was Mary's father; while Mrs. Lawton was Mary's mother; Maude was +Mary's sister.</p> + +<p>The next instant a great rush of love into his heart drove this feeling +from it. What matter anything, provided she loved him and he loved her? +Generous sentiment so filled him that there was room for nothing else. +He even experienced dimly in the depths of his consciousness, a faint +pale joy that in thus accepting what was disagreeable to his finer +sensibilities, he was proving more truly to his own self the +boundlessness of his love. For the moment he was exalted by this +instant revulsion against anything calculating in his passion. And +then slowly, one by one, the objections stole back, like a flock of +noisome sombre creatures put to flight by a sudden movement, but now +returning to their old nesting places. The very unassuming method of +their recurrence lent them an added influence. Almost before Bennington +knew it they had established a case, and he found himself face to face +with a very ugly problem.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it will be a little difficult for the average and democratic +reader to realize fully the terrible proportions of this problem. We +whose lives assume little, require little of them. Intangible +objections to the desires of our hearts do not count for much against +their realization; there needs the rough attrition of reality to turn +back our calm, complacent acquisition of that which we see to be for +our best interest in the emotional world. Claims of ancestry mean +nothing. Claims of society mean not much more. Claims of wealth are +considered as evanescent among a class of men who, by their efforts and +genius, are able to render absolute wealth itself an evanescent +quality. When one of us loves, he questions the worth of the object of +his passion. That established, nothing else is of great importance. +There is a grand and noble quality in this, but it misses much. About +the other state of affairs—wherein the woman's appurtenances of all +kinds, as well as the woman herself, are significant—is a delicate and +subtle aura of the higher refinement—the long refinement of the spirit +through many generations—which, to an eye accustomed to look for +gradations of moral beauty, possesses a peach-blow iridescence of its +own. From one point of view, the old-fashioned forms of thought and +courtesy are stilted and useless. From another they retain still the +lofty dignity of <i>noblesse oblige</i>.</p> + +<p>So we would have none set down Bennington de Laney as a prig or a snob +because he did not at once decide for his heart as against his +aristocratic instincts. Not only all his early education, but the life +lessons of many generations of ancestors had taught him to set a +fictitious value on social position. He was a de Laney on both sides. +He had never been allowed to forget it. A long line of forefathers, +proud-eyed in their gilded frames, mutely gazed their sense of the +obligations they had bequeathed to this last representative of their +race. When one belongs to a great family he can not live entirely for +himself. His disgrace or failure reflects not alone on his own +reputation, but it sullies the fair fame of men long dead and buried; +and this is a dreadful thing. For all these old Puritans and Cavaliers, +these knights and barons, these king's councillors and scholars, have +perchance lived out the long years of their lives with all good intent +and purpose and with all earnestness of execution, merely that they +might build and send down to posterity this same fair fame. It is a +bold man, or a wicked man, who will dare lightly to bring the efforts +of so many lives to naught! In the thought of these centuries of +endeavour, the sacrifice of mere personal happiness does not seem so +great an affair after all. The Family Name has taken to itself a soul. +It is a living thing. It may be worked for, it may be nourished by +affection, it may even be worshipped. Men may give their lives to it +with as great a devotion, with as exalted a sense of renunciation, and +as lofty a joy in that renunciation, as those who vow allegiance to St. +Francis or St. Dominic. The tearing of the heart from the bosom often +proves to be a mortal hurt when there is nothing to put in the gap of +its emptiness. Not so when a tradition like this may partly take its +place.</p> + +<p>These, and more subtle considerations, were the noblest elements of +Bennington de Laney's doubts. But perhaps they were no more potent than +some others which rushed through the breach made for them in the young +man's decision.</p> + +<p>He had always lived so much at home that he had come to accept the home +point of view without question. That is to say, he never examined the +value of his parent's ideas, because it never occurred to him to doubt +them. He had no perspective.</p> + +<p>In a way, then, he accepted as axioms the social tenets held by his +mother, or the business methods practised by his father. He believed +that elderly men should speak precisely, and in grammatical, but +colourless English. He believed also that people should, in society, +conduct themselves according to the fashion-plate pattern designed by +Mrs. de Laney. He believed these things, not because he was a fool, or +shallow, or lacking in humour, or snobbish, but because nothing had +ever happened to cause him to examine his beliefs closely, that he +might appreciate what they really were. One of these views was, that +cultured people were of a class in themselves, and could not and should +not mix with other classes. Mrs. de Laney entertained a horror of +vulgarity. So deep-rooted was this horror that a remote taint of it was +sufficient to thrust forever outside the pale of her approbation any +unfortunate who exhibited it. She preferred stupidity to common sense, +when the former was allied with good form, and the latter only with +plain kindliness. This was partly instinct and partly the result of +cultivation. She would shrink, with uncontrollable disgust, from any of +the lower classes with whom she came unavoidably in contact. A slight +breach of the conventions earned her distrust of one of her own caste. +As this personal idiosyncrasy fell in line with the de Laney pride, it +was approved by the head of the family. Under encouragement it became +almost a monomania.</p> + +<p>Bennington pictured to himself only too vividly the effect of the +Lawtons on this lady's aristocratic prejudices. He knew, only too well, +that Bill Lawton's table manners would not be allowed even in her +kitchen. He could imagine Mrs. Lawton's fatuous conversation in the de +Laney's drawing-room, or Maude Eliza's dressed-up self-consciousness. +The experience of having the three Westerners to dinner just once +would, Bennington knew, drive his lady mother to the verge of nervous +prostration—he remembered his father's one and only experience in +bringing business connections home to lunch—; his imagination failed +to picture the effect of her having to endure them as actual members of +the family! As if this were not bad enough, his restless fancy carried +him a step farther. He perceived the agonies of shame and +mortification, real even though they were conventional, she would have +to endure in the face of society. That the de Laneys, social leaders, +rigid in respectability, should be forced to the humiliation of +acknowledging a misalliance, should be forced to the added humiliation +of confessing that this marriage was not only with a family of inferior +social standing, but with one actually unlettered and vulgar! +Bennington knew only too well the temper of his mother—and of society.</p> + +<p>It would not be difficult to expand these doubts, to amplify these +reasons, and even to adduce others which occurred to the unhappy young +man as he climbed the hill. But enough has been said. Surely the +reader, no matter how removed in sympathy from that line of argument, +must be able now at least to sympathize, to perceive that Bennington de +Laney had some reason for thought, some excuse for the tardiness of his +steps as they carried him to a meeting with the girl he loved.</p> + +<p>For he did love her, perhaps the more tenderly that doubts must, +perforce, arise. All these considerations affected not at all his +thought of her. But now, for the first time, Bennington de Laney was +weighing the relative claims of duty and happiness. His happiness +depended upon his love. That his duty to his race, his parents, his +caste had some reality in fact, and a very solid reality in his own +estimation, the author hopes he has shown. If not, several pages have +been written in vain.</p> + +<p>The conflict in his mind had carried him to the Rock. Here, as he +expected, he found Mary already arrived. He ascended to the little +plateau and dropped wearily to the moss. His face had gone very white +in the last quarter of an hour.</p> + +<p>"You see now why I asked you to come to-day," she said without +preliminary. "Now you have seen them, and there is nothing more to +conceal."</p> + +<p>"I know, I know," he replied dully. "I am trying to think it out. I +can't see it yet."</p> + +<p>They took entirely for granted that each knew the subject of the +other's thoughts. The girl seemed much the more self-possessed of the +two.</p> + +<p>"We may as well understand each other," she said quietly, without +emotion. "You have told me a certain thing, and have asked me for a +certain answer. I could not give it to you before without deceiving +you. Now the answer depends on you. I have deceived you in a way," she +went on more earnestly, "but I did not mean to. I did not realize the +difference, truly I didn't, until I saw the girl on the train. Then I +knew the difference between her and me, and between her's and mine. And +when you turned away, I saw that you were her kind, and I saw, too, +that you ought to know everything there was about me. Then you spoke."</p> + +<p>"I meant what I said, too," he interrupted. "You must believe that, +Mary, whatever comes."</p> + +<p>"I was sorry you did," she went on, as though she had not heard him. +Then with just a touch of impatience tingeing the even calm of her +voice, "Oh, why will men insist on saying those things!" she cried. +"The way to win a girl is not thus. He should see her often, without +speaking of love, being everything to her, until at last she finds she +can not live without him."</p> + +<p>"Have I been that to you, Mary? Has it come to that with me?" he asked +wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Heaven help me, I am afraid it has!" she cried, burying her face in +her hands.</p> + +<p>A great gladness leaped up into his face, and died as the blaze of a +fire leaps up and expires.</p> + +<p>"That makes it easier—and harder," he said. "It is bad enough as it +is. I don't know how I can make you understand, dear."</p> + +<p>"I understand more than you think," she replied, becoming calm again, +and letting her hands fall into her lap. "I am going to speak quite +plainly. You love me, Ben—ah, don't I know it!" she cried, with a +sudden burst of passion. "I have seen it in your eyes these many days. +I have heard it in your voice. I have felt it welling out from your +great heart. It has been sweet to me—so sweet! You can not know, no +man ever could know, how that love of yours has filled my soul and my +heart until there was room for nothing else in the whole wide world!"</p> + +<p>"You love me!" he said wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"If I had not known that, do you think I would have endured a moment's +hesitation after you had seen the objectionable features of my life? Do +you think that if I had the slightest doubts of your love, I could now +understand <i>why</i> you hesitate? But I do, and I honour you for it."</p> + +<p>"You love me!" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, Ben dear, I <i>do</i> love you. I love you as I never thought +to be permitted to love. Do you want to know what I did that second day +on the Rock—the day you first showed me what you really were? The day +you told me of your old home and the great tree? It was all so +peaceful, and tender, and comforting, so sweet and pure, that it rested +me. I felt, here is a man at last who could not misunderstand me, could +not be abrupt, and harsh, and cruel. I said to myself, 'He is not +perfect nor does he expect perfection.' I shut my eyes, and then +something choked me, and the tears came. I cried out loud, 'Oh, to be +what I was, to give again what I have not! O God, give me back my heart +as it once was, and let me love!' Yes, Ben dear, I said 'love.' And +then I was not happy any more all day. But God answered that prayer, +Ben dear, and we do love one another now, and that is why we can look +at things together, and see what is best for us both."</p> + +<p>"You love me!" he exclaimed for the third time.</p> + +<p>"And now, dear, we must talk plainly and calmly. You have seen what my +family is."</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Mary, that I can make you understand at all," began +Bennington helplessly. "I can't express it even to myself. Our people +are so different. My training has been so different. All this sort of +thing means so much to us, and so little to you."</p> + +<p>"I know exactly," she interrupted. "I have read, and I have lived East. +I can appreciate just how it is. See if I can not read your thoughts. +My family is uneducated. If it becomes your family, your own parents +will be more than grieved, and your friends will have little to do with +you. You have also duties toward your family, <i>as</i> a family. Is that +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that <i>is</i> it," answered he, "but there are so many things it does +not say. It seems to me it has come to be a horrible dilemma with me. +If I do what I am afraid is my duty to my family and my people, I will +be unhappy without you forever. And if I follow my heart, then it seems +to me I will wrong myself, and will be unhappy that way. It seems a +choice of just in what manner I will be miserable!" he ended with a +ghastly laugh.</p> + +<p>"And which is the most worth while?" she asked in a still voice.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, I don't know!" he cried miserably. "I must think."</p> + +<p>He looked out straight ahead of him for some time. "Whichever way I +decide," he said after a little, "I want you to know this, Mary: I love +you, and I always will love you, and the fact that I choose my duty, if +I do, is only that if I did not, I would not consider myself worthy +even to look at you." A silence fell on them again.</p> + +<p>"I can not live West," said he again, as though he had been arguing +this point in his mind and had just reached the conclusion of it. "My +life is East; I never knew it until now." He hesitated. "Would +you—that is, could you—I mean, would your family have to live East +too?"</p> + +<p>She caught his meaning and drew herself up, with a little pride in the +movement.</p> + +<p>"Wherever I go, whatever I do, my people must be free to go or do. You +have your duty to your family. I have my duty to mine!"</p> + +<p>He bowed his head quietly in assent. She looked at the struggle +depicted in the lines of his face with eyes in which, strangely enough, +was much pity, but no unhappiness or doubt. Could it be that she was so +sure of the result?</p> + +<p>At last he raised his head slowly and turned to her with an air of +decision.</p> + +<p>"Mary----" he began.</p> + +<p>At that moment there became audible a sudden rattle of stones below the +Rock, and at the same instant a harsh voice broke in rudely upon their +conversation.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE CLAIM JUMPERS</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington instinctively put his finger on his lips to enjoin silence, +and peered cautiously over the edge of the dike. Perhaps he was glad +that this diversion had occurred to postpone even for a short time the +announcement of a decision it had cost him so much to make. Perhaps he +recognised the voice.</p> + +<p>Three men were clambering a trifle laboriously over the broken rocks at +the foot of the dike, swearing a little at their unstable footing, but +all apparently much in earnest in their conversation. Even as +Bennington looked they came to a halt, and then sank down each on a +convenient rock, talking interestedly. One was Old Mizzou, one was the +man Arthur, the third was a stranger whom Bennington had never seen.</p> + +<p>The latter had hardly the air of the country.</p> + +<p>He was a dapper little man dressed in a dark gray bob-tailed cutaway, +and a brown derby hat, which was pushed far back on his head. His face, +however, was keen and alert and brown, all of which characteristics +indicated an active Western life at no very remote day. The words which +had so powerfully arrested Bennington de Laney's attention were +delivered by Old Mizzou to this stranger.</p> + +<p>"Thar!" the old man had said, "ain't that Crazy Hoss Lode 'bout as +good-lookin' a lead as they make 'em?"</p> + +<p>"So, so; so, so;" replied the man in the derby in a high voice. "Your +vein is a fissure vein all right enough, and you've got a good wide +lead. If it holds up in quality, I don't know but what you're right."</p> + +<p>"I shows you them assays of McPherson's, don't I?" argued Mizzou, "an' +any quartz in this kentry that assays twenty-four dollars ain't no ways +cheap."</p> + +<p>This speech was so significantly in line with Bennington's surmise that +he caught his breath and drew back cautiously out of sight, but still +in such a position that he could hear plainly every word uttered by the +group below. The girl was watching him with bright, interested eyes.</p> + +<p>"Listen carefully!" he whispered, bringing his mouth close to her ear. +"I think there's some sort of plot here."</p> + +<p>She nodded ready comprehension, and they settled themselves to hear the +following conversation:</p> + +<p>"I saw the assay," replied the stranger's voice to Mizzou's last +statement, "but who's this McPherson? How do I know the assays are all +right?"</p> + +<p>"Why, he's that thar professer at th' School of Mines," expostulated +Mizzou.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" cried the stranger, as though suddenly enlightened. "If +those are his assays, they're all right. Let's see them again."</p> + +<p>There followed a rustling of papers.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've looked over your layout," went on the stranger after a +moment, "and pretty thoroughly in the last few days. I know what you've +got here. Now what's your proposition?"</p> + +<p>There was a pause.</p> + +<p>"I knows you a good while, Slayton----" began Mizzou, but was +interrupted almost immediately by a third voice, that of Arthur. "The +point is this," said the latter sharply, "Davidson here is in a +position to give you possession of this group o' claims, but he ain't +in a position to appear in th' transaction. How are you goin' to +purtect him an' me so we gets something out of it?"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," put in the stranger, "I want to ask a few questions +myself. These claims belong to the Holy Smoke Company now, don't they?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's the idea."</p> + +<p>"Are either of you the agent of that Company?"</p> + +<p>"Not directly, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Are you indirectly?"</p> + +<p>"Seems to me you haven't got any call t' look into that, if we +guarantee t' give you good title."</p> + +<p>"How do I know you can give me good title?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't I tellin' you so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but why should I believe you?"</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't, unless you've got sense enough to see that we ain't +gettin' you 'way up here, an' we ain't living round these parts a +couple of years on a busted proposition."</p> + +<p>The stranger evidently debated this.</p> + +<p>"How would it be if you took equal shares with me on the claims, your +shares to be paid from the earnings? That would be fair all round. You +would get nothing unless the title was good. I would risk no more than +you did," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"Isn't I tellin' yo' I don't appear a tall in this yere transaction?" +objected Mizzou.</p> + +<p>The stranger laughed a little.</p> + +<p>"I can see through a millstone," he said. "Why don't you old +turtlebacks come out of your shells and play square? You've got some +shady game on here that you're working underhand. Spin your yarn and +I'll tell you what I think of it."</p> + +<p>"How do I know you don't leave us out a'ter we tells you," objected +Mizzou, returning to his original idea.</p> + +<p>"You don't!" answered the stranger impatiently, "you don't! But it +seems to me if you expect to get anything out of a shady transaction, +you've got to risk something."</p> + +<p>"That's right," put in Arthur, "that's right! 'Nuff said! Now, Slayton, +we'll agree to git you full legal control of these yere claims if +you'll develop them at your expense, an' gin Davidson and me a third +interest between us fer our influence. That's our proposition, an' that +goes. If you don't play squar', I knows how t' make ye."</p> + +<p>"Spin your yarn," repeated the stranger quietly. "I'll agree to give +you and Davidson a third interest, <i>provided</i> I take hold of the thing +at all."</p> + +<p>"An' Jack Slayton," put in Mizzou threateningly, "if you don't play us +squar', I swar I'll shoot ye like a dog!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, stow that, Davidson," rejoined the stranger in an irritated voice; +"that rot don't do any good. I know you, and you know me. I never went +back on a game yet, and you know it."</p> + +<p>"I does know it, Jack!" came up Davidson's voice repentantly, "but this +is a big deal, an' y' can't be too careful!"</p> + +<p>"All right, all right," the stranger responded "Now tell us your +scheme. How can you get hold of the property?"</p> + +<p>"By jumping the claims," replied Arthur calmly. There ensued a short +pause. Then:</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool," exclaimed Slayton with contempt; "this is no hold-up +country. You can't drive a man off his property with a gun."</p> + +<p>"I knows that. These claims can be 'jumped' quiet and legal."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"They ain't be'n a stroke of assessment work done on 'em since we came. +Th' Company's title's gone long ago. They lost their job last January. +Them claims is open to any one who cares to have 'em."</p> + +<p>The stranger uttered a long whistle. Old Mizzou chuckled cunningly. "I +has charge of them claims from th' time they quits work on 'em 'till +now. They ain't be'n a pick raised on 'em. Anybody could a-jumped 'em +any time since las' January."</p> + +<p>"But how about the Company?" asked Slayton. "How did you fool them?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I sends 'em bills fer work reg'lar enough! And I didn't throw +away th' money neither!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that'd be easy enough. But how about the people around here? Why +haven't they jumped the claims long ago?"</p> + +<p>"Wall, I argues about this a-way. These yere gents sees I has charge, +an' they says to themselves, 'Ole Davidson takes care of them +assessment works all right,' an' so they never thinks it's worth while +t' see whether it is done or not."</p> + +<p>"You trusted to their thinking you were performing your duties?"</p> + +<p>"Thet's it."</p> + +<p>"Well, it was a pretty big risk!"</p> + +<p>"Ev'rything t' gain an' nothin' t' lose," quoted Old Mizzou +comfortably.</p> + +<p>"How about this new man the Company has out here—de Laney? Is he in +this deal too?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, him!" said Davidson with vast contempt. "He don' know enough t' +dodge a brick! I tells him th' assessment work is all done. He believes +it, an' never looks t' see. I gets him fooled so easy it's shore +funny."</p> + +<p>"Hold on!" put in Slayton sharply. "I'm not so sure you aren't liable +there somewhere. Of course your failure to do the assessment work while +you were alone here was negligence, but that is all. The Company could +fire you for failing to do your duty, but they couldn't prove any fraud +against you. But when this de Laney came along it changed things."</p> + +<p>"How is that?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you told him the assessment work had been done, in so many +words, didn't you? The Company can prove that you were using your +official information to deceive him for the purposes of fraud. In other +words, you were an officer of the Company, and you deceived another +officer in your official capacity. I don't know but you'd be liable to +a criminal action."</p> + +<p>"Not on your tin-type," said Old Mizzou with confidence.</p> + +<p>"Have you looked it up?"</p> + +<p>"I does better than that. At that point I shore becomes subtle. <i>I +resigns from th' Company!</i> A'ter that I talks assessment work. I tells +him advice, jest as a friend. If he believes th' same, an' it ain't so, +why thet's unfort'nit, but they can't do anythin' t' me. I'm jest an +outsider. He is responsible to th' Company, an' if he wants +information, he ought to go to th' books, and not to frien's who may +deceive him."</p> + +<p>"Davidson, you're a genius!" exclaimed the stranger heartily.</p> + +<p>"I tells you I becomes subtle," acknowledged the old man with just +pride. "But now you sees it ain't delikit that my name appears in th' +case a tall. Folks is so suspicious these yere days, that if I has a +share, and Arthur yere has a share, they says p'rhaps we has this yere +scheme in view right along. But if Slayton gets them lapsed claims by +hisself, Slayton bein' a stranger, they thinks how fortinit that +Slayton is t' git onto it, and they puts pore Ole Mizzou down as +becomin' fergitful in his old age."</p> + +<p>The stranger laughed.</p> + +<p>"It's easy," he remarked. "We get them for nothing, and you can bet +your sweet life I'll push 'em through for all there is in it. Why, +boys, you're rich! You won't have anything more to do the rest of your +mortal days, unless you want to."</p> + +<p>"I ain't seekin' no manual employment," observed Mizzou.</p> + +<p>"I'm willin' to quit work," agreed Arthur.</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll have a chance. Now we better hustle this thing through +lively. We've got to make our discoveries on the quiet so no one will +get on to us."</p> + +<p>"It ain't goin' t' take us long t' tack up them notices, now 't we've +agreed. We kin do th' most on it this evenin'. Jest lay low, that's +all."</p> + +<p>"Ain't de Laney going to get onto us sasshaying off with a lot of +notices?"</p> + +<p>"If he does," remarked Old Mizzou grimly, "I knows a dark hole whar we +retires that young man for th' day! If it comes t' that, though, you +got t' tend to it, Slayton. I ain't showin' in this deal y' know."</p> + +<p>The stranger laughed unpleasantly.</p> + +<p>"You show me the hole and I'll take care of Mr. man," he agreed. He +laughed again. "By the way, it strikes me that fellow's going to run up +against a good deal of tribulation before he gets through."</p> + +<p>"Wall, thet thar Comp'ny ain't goin' to raise his pay when they finds +it out," agreed Mizzou. "Thet Bishop, he gets tolerable anxious 'bout +them assessment works now, and writes frequent. I got a whole bunch of +his letters up t' camp that I keeps for th' good of his health. Ain't +no wise healthy t' worry 'bout business, you know."</p> + +<p>"Wonder th' little idiot didn't miss his mail," growled Arthur.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I coaxes him on with th' letters from his mammy and pappy. They's +harmless enough."</p> + +<p>The three men fell into a discussion of various specimens of quartz +which they took from their pockets, and, after what seemed to be an +interminable time, arose and moved slowly down the hill.</p> + +<p>The girl looked at her companion with wide-open eyes. "Ben!" she +gasped, "what have you done?"</p> + +<p>"Made a fool of myself," he responded curtly.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do about it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>He knit his brows deeply. She cast about for an expedient.</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew more about mining!" she cried. "I know there is some way +to get legal possession of a claim by patenting it, but I don't know +how you do it."</p> + +<p>He did not reply.</p> + +<p>"There must be some way out of this," she went on, all alert. "They +haven't done anything yet. Why don't you go down to camp and inquire?"</p> + +<p>"Every man would be in the hills in less than an hour. I couldn't trust +them," he replied brusquely.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know!" she cried with relief. "You must hunt up Jim. He knows +all about those things, and you could rely on him."</p> + +<p>"Jim? What Jim?"</p> + +<p>"Jim Fay. Oh, that's just it! Run, Ben; go at once; don't wait a +minute!"</p> + +<p>"I want nothing whatever to do with that man," he said deliberately. +"He has insulted me at every opportunity. He has treated me in a manner +that was even more than insulting every time we have met. If I were +dying, and he had but to turn his head toward me to save me, I would +not ask him to do so!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be foolish, Ben!" cried she, wringing her hands in despair. +"Don't let your pride stand in your way! Do you not realize the +disgrace this will be to you—to lose all these rich claims just by +carelessness? Do you realize that it means something to me, for I have +been the reason of that carelessness. I know it! Just this once, forget +all he has done to you. You can trust him. Don't be afraid of that. +Tell him that I sent you, if you don't want to trust him on your own +account----" she broke off. "Where are you going?" she asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"To do something," he answered, shutting his teeth together with a +snap.</p> + +<p>"Will you see Jim?" she begged, following him to the edge of the Rock +as he swung himself down the tree.</p> + +<p>"No!" he said, without looking back.</p> + +<p>After he disappeared—in the direction of the Holy Smoke camp, as she +noticed—she descended rapidly to the ground and hurried, sobbing +excitedly, away toward Spanish Gulch. She was all alive with distress. +She had never realized until the moment of his failure how much she had +loved this man. Near the village she paused, bathed her eyes in the +brook, and, assuming an air of deliberation and calmness, began making +inquiries as to the whereabouts of Jim Fay.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>BENNINGTON PROVES GAME</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington de Laney sat on the pile of rocks at the entrance to the +Holy Smoke shaft. Across his knees lay the thirty-calibre rifle. His +face was very white and set. Perhaps he was thinking of his return to +New York in disgrace, of his interview with Bishop, of his inevitable +meeting with a multitude of friends, who would read in the daily papers +the accounts of his incompetence—criminal incompetence, they would +call it. The shadows were beginning to lengthen across the slope of the +hill. Up the gulch cow bells tinkled, up the hill birds sang, and +through the little hollows twilight flowed like a vapour. The wild +roses on the hillside were blooming—late in this high altitude. The +pines were singing their endless song. But Bennington de Laney was +looking upon none of these softer beauties of the Hills. Rather he +watched intently the lower gulch with its flood-wracked, water-twisted +skeleton laid bare. Could it be that in the destruction there figured +forth he caught the symbol of his own condition? That the dreary gloom +of that ruin typified the chaos of sombre thoughts that occupied his +own remorseful mind? If so, the fancy must have absorbed him. The +moments slipped by one by one, the shadows grew longer, the bird songs +louder, and still the figure with the rifle sat motionless, his face +white and still, watching the lower gulch.</p> + +<p>Or could it be that Bennington de Laney waited for some one, and that +therefore his gaze was so fixed? It would seem so. For when the beat of +hoofs became audible, the white face quickened into alertness, and the +motionless figure stirred somewhat.</p> + +<p>The rider came in sight, rising and falling in a steady, unhesitating +lope. He swung rapidly to the left, and ascended the knoll. Opposite +the shaft of the Holy Smoke lode he reined in his bronco and +dismounted. The rider was Jim Fay.</p> + +<p>Bennington de Laney did not move. He looked up at the newcomer with +dull resignation. "He takes it hard, poor fellow!" thought Fay.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's to be done?" asked the Easterner in a strained voice. "I +suppose you know all about it, or you wouldn't be here."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know all about it," said Fay gently. "You mustn't take it so +hard. Perhaps we can do something. We'll be able to save one or two +claims, any way, if we're quick about it."</p> + +<p>"I've heard something about patenting claims," went on de Laney in the +same strange, dull tones; "could that be done?"</p> + +<p>"No. You have to do five hundred dollars' worth of work, and advertise +for sixty days. There isn't time."</p> + +<p>"That settles it. I don't know what we can do then."</p> + +<p>"Well, that depends. I've come to help do something. We've got to get +an everlasting hustle on us, that's all; and I'm afraid we are +beginning a little behindhand in the race. You ought to have hunted me +up at once."</p> + +<p>"I don't see what there is to do," repeated Bennington thickly.</p> + +<p>"Don't you? The assessment work hasn't been done—that's the idea, +isn't it?—and so the claims have reverted to the Government. They are +therefore open to location, as in the beginning, and that is just what +Davidson and that crowd are going to do to them. Well, they're just as +much open to us. We'll just <i>jump our own claims!</i>"</p> + +<p>"What!" cried the Easterner, excited.</p> + +<p>"Well, relocate them ourselves, if that suits you better."</p> + +<p>Bennington's dull eyes began to light up.</p> + +<p>"So get a move on you," went on Fay; "hustle out some paper so we can +make location notices. Under the terms of a relocation, we can use the +old stakes and 'discovery,' so all we have to do is to tack up a new +notice all round. That's the trouble. That gang's got their notices all +written, and I'm afraid they've got ahead of us. Come on!"</p> + +<p>Bennington, who had up to this time remained seated on the pile of +stones, seemed filled with a new and great excitement. He tottered to +his feet, throwing his hands aloft.</p> + +<p>"Thank God! Thank God!" he cried, catching his breath convulsively.</p> + +<p>Fay turned to look at him curiously. "We aren't that much out of the +woods," he remarked; "the other gang'll get in their work, don't you +fret."</p> + +<p>"They never will, they never will!" cried the Easterner exultantly. +"They can't. We'll locate 'em all!" The tears welled over his eyes and +ran down his cheeks.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" asked Fay, beginning to fear the excitement had +unsettled his companion's wits.</p> + +<p>"Because they're there!" cried Bennington, pointing to the mouth of the +shaft near which he had been sitting. "Davidson, Slayton, +Arthur—they're all there, and they can't get away! I didn't know what +else to do. I had to do something!"</p> + +<p>Fay cast an understanding glance at the young man's rifle, and sprang +to the entrance of the shaft. As though in direct corroboration of his +speech, Fay could perceive, just emerging from the shadow, the sinister +figure of the man Arthur creeping cautiously up the ladder, evidently +encouraged to an attempt to escape by the sound of the conversation +above. The Westerner snatched his pistol from his holster and +presented it down the shaft.</p> + +<p>"Kindly return!" he commanded in a soft voice. The upward motion of the +dim figure ceased, and in a moment it had faded from view in the +descent. Fay waited a moment. "In five minutes," he announced in louder +tones, "I'm going to let loose this six-shooter down that shaft. I +should advise you gentlemen to retire to the tunnel." He peered down +again intently. A sudden clatter and thud behind him startled him. He +looked around. Bennington had fallen at full length across the stones, +and his rifle, falling, had clashed against the broken ore.</p> + +<p>Fay, with a slight shrug of contempt at such womanish weakness, ran to +his assistance. He straightened the Easterner out and placed his folded +coat under his head. "He'll come around in a minute," he muttered. He +glanced toward the gulch and then back to the shaft. "Can't leave that +lay-out," he went on. He bent over the prostrate figure and began to +loosen the band of his shirt. Something about the boy's clothing +attracted his attention, so, drawing his knife, he deftly and gently +ripped away the coat and shirt. Then he arose softly to his feet and +bared his head.</p> + +<p>"I apologize to you," said he, addressing the recumbent form; "you are +game."</p> + +<p>In the fleshy part of the naked shoulder was a small round hole, +clotted and smeared with blood.</p> + +<p>Jim Fay stooped and examined the wound closely. The bullet had entered +near the point of the shoulder, but a little below, so that it had +merely cut a secant through the curve of the muscle. If it had struck a +quarter of an inch to the left it would have gouged a furrow; a quarter +of an inch beyond that would have caused it to miss entirely. Fay saw +that the hurt itself was slight, and that the Easterner had fainted +more because of loss of blood than from the shock. This determined to +his satisfaction, he moved quickly to the mouth of the shaft. "Way +below!" he cried in a sharp voice, and discharged his revolver twice +down the opening. Then he stole noiselessly away, and ran at speed to +the kitchen of the shack, whence he immediately returned with a pail of +water and a number of towels. He set these down, and again peered down +the shaft. "Way below!" he repeated, and dropped down a sizable chunk +of ore. Apparently satisfied that the prisoners were well warned, he +gave his whole attention to his patient.</p> + +<p>He washed the wound carefully. Then he made a compress of one of the +towels, and bound it with the other two. Looking up, he discovered +Bennington watching him intently.</p> + +<p>"It's all right!" he assured the latter in answer to the question in +his eyes. "Nothing but a scratch. Lie still a minute till I get this +fastened, and you can sit up and watch the rat hole while I get you +some clothes."</p> + +<p>In another moment or so the young man was propped up against an empty +ore "bucket," his shoulder bound, and his hand slung comfortably in a +sling from his neck.</p> + +<p>"There you are," said Jim cheerily. "Now you take my six-shooter and +watch that aggregation till I get back. They won't come out any, but +you may as well be sure."</p> + +<p>He handed Bennington his revolver, and moved off in the direction of +the cabin, whistling cheerfully. The young man looked after him +thoughtfully. Nothing could have been more considerate than the +Westerner's manner, nothing could have been kinder than his prompt +action—Bennington saw that his pony, now cropping the brush near at +hand, was black with sweat—nothing could have been more +straightforward than his assistance in the matter of the claims. And +yet Bennington de Laney was not satisfied. He felt he owed the sudden +change of front to a word spoken in his behalf by the girl. This was a +strange influence she possessed, thus to alter a man's attitude +entirely by the mere voicing of a wish.</p> + +<p>The Westerner returned carrying a loose shirt and a coat, which he drew +entire over the injured shoulder, which left one sleeve empty.</p> + +<p>"I guess that fixes you," said he with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Look here," put in Bennington suddenly, "you've been mighty good to me +in all this. If you hadn't come along as you did, these fellows would +have nabbed me sooner or later, and probably I'd have lost the claims +any way. I feel I owe you a lot. But I want you to know before you go +any further that that don't square us. You've had it in for me ever +since I came out here, and you've made it mighty unpleasant for me. I +can't forget that all at once. I want to tell you plainly that, +although I am grateful enough, I know just why you have done all this. +It is because <i>she</i> asked you to. And knowing that, I can't accept what +you do for me as from a friend, for I don't feel friendly toward you in +the least." His face flushed painfully. "I'm not trying to insult you +or be boorish," he said; "I just want you to understand how I feel +about it. And now that you know, I suppose you'd better let the matter +go, although I'm much obliged to you for fixing me up."</p> + +<p>He glanced at his shoulder.</p> + +<p>Fay listened to this speech quietly and with patience. "What do you +intend to do?" he asked, when the other had quite finished.</p> + +<p>"I don't know yet. If you'll say nothing down below—and I'm sure you +will not—I'll contrive some way of keeping this procession down the +hole, and of feeding them, and then I'll relocate the claims myself."</p> + +<p>"With one arm?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, with one arm!" cried Bennington fiercely; "with no arms at all, +if need be!" he broke off suddenly, with the New Yorker's ingrained +instinct of repression. "I beg your pardon. I mean I'll do as well as I +can, of course."</p> + +<p>"How about the woman—Arthur's wife? She'll give you trouble."</p> + +<p>"She has locked herself in her cabin already. I will assist her to +continue the imprisonment."</p> + +<p>Fay laughed outright. "And you expect, with one arm and wounded, to +feed four people, keep them in confinement, and at the same time to +relocate eighteen claims lying scattered all over the hills! Well, +you're optimistic, to say the least."</p> + +<p>"I'll do the best I can," repeated Bennington doggedly.</p> + +<p>"And you won't ask help of a friend ready to give it?"</p> + +<p>"Not as a friend."</p> + +<p>"Well," Fay chuckled, apparently not displeased, "you're an obstinate +young man, or rather a pig-headed young man, but I don't know as that +counts against you. I'll help you out, anyway—if not as a friend, then +as an enemy. You see, I have my marching orders from someone else, and +you haven't anything to do with it."</p> + +<p>Bennington bowed coldly, but his immense relief flickered into his face +in spite of himself. "What should we do first?" he asked formally.</p> + +<p>"Sit here and wait for the kids," responded Jim.</p> + +<p>"Who are the kids?"</p> + +<p>"Friends of mine—trustworthy."</p> + +<p>Jim rearranged Bennington's coverings and lit a pipe. "Tell us about +it," said he.</p> + +<p>"There isn't much to tell. I knew I had to do something, so I just held +them up and made them get down the shaft. I didn't know what I was +going to do next, but I was glad to have them out of the way to get +time to think."</p> + +<p>"Who plugged you?" inquired Fay, motioning with the mouthpiece of his +pipe toward the wounded shoulder.</p> + +<p>"That was Arthur. He had a little gun in his coat pocket and he shot +from inside the pocket. I'd made them drop all the guns they had, I +thought."</p> + +<p>"Did you take a crack at him then?" asked Fay, interested.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. I just covered him and made him shell out. As a matter of fact +I don't believe any one of them knew I was hit."</p> + +<p>Fay smoked on in silence, glancing from time to time with satisfaction +at the youth opposite. During the passage of these events the day had +not far advanced. The shadow of Harney had not yet reached out to the +edge of the hills.</p> + +<p>"Hullo! The kids!" said Fay suddenly.</p> + +<p>Two pedestrians emerged from the lower gulch and bent their steps +toward the camp. As they came nearer, Bennington, with a gasp of +surprise, recognised the Leslies.</p> + +<p>The sprightly youths were dressed just alike, in knickerbockers and +Norfolk jackets of dark brown plaid, and small college caps to +match—an outfit which Bennington had always believed would attract too +vivid attention in this country. As they came nearer he saw that the +jackets were fitted with pockets of great size. In the pockets were +sketch books and bulging articles. They caught sight of the two figures +on the ore heap simultaneously.</p> + +<p>"Behold our attentive host!" cried Jeems. "He is now in the act of +receiving us with all honour!"</p> + +<p>Bennington's face fairly shone with pleasure at the encounter. "Hullo +fellows! Hullo there!" he cried out delightedly again and again, and +rose slowly to his feet. This disclosed the fact of his injury, and the +brothers ran forward, with real sympathy and concern expressed on their +lively countenances. There ensued a rapid fire of questions and +answers. The Leslies proved to be already familiar with the details of +the attempt to jump the claims, and understood at once Fay's brief +account of the present situation, over which they rejoiced in the +well-known Leslie fashion. They exploded in genuine admiration of +Bennington's adventure, and praised that young man enthusiastically. +Bennington could feel, even before this, that he stood on a different +footing than formerly with these self-reliant young men. They treated +him as familiarly as ever, but with a new respect. The truth is, their +astuteness in reading character, which is as essentially an attribute +of the artistic temperament in black and white as in words and phrases, +had shown them already that their old acquaintance had grown from boy +to man since last they had met. They knew this even before they learned +of its manifestation. So astounding was the change that they gave it +credit, perhaps, for being more thorough than it was. After the +situation had been made plain, Bennington reverted to the +unexpectedness of their appearance.</p> + +<p>"But you haven't told me yet how you happen to be here," he suggested. +"I'd as soon have expected to see Ethel Henry coming up the gulch!"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you get our letters?" cried Bert in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't received any letters. Did you write?"</p> + +<p>"Did we write! Well, I should think so! We wrote three times, telling +you we were coming and when to expect us. Jeems and I wondered why you +didn't meet us. That explains it. Seems funny you didn't get any of +those letters!"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't believe it is so funny after all," responded Bennington, +who had been thinking it over. "I remember now that Davidson told the +others he had been intercepting my letters from the Company, and I +suppose he got yours too."</p> + +<p>"That's it, of course. I'll have to interview that Davidson later. +Well, we used to train around here off and on, as I told you once, and +this year Jeems and I thought we'd do our summer sketching here, and +sort of revive old times. So we packed up and came."</p> + +<p>"I'm mighty glad you came, anyway," replied Bennington fervently.</p> + +<p>"So'm I. We're just in time to help foil the villain. As foilers Jeems +and I are an artistic success. We have studied foiling under the best +masters in the Bowery and Sixth Avenue theatres."</p> + +<p>"Where's Bill?" asked Jim suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Will be around in the morning. You're to report progress at once. +Didn't dare to come up until after the row. Dreadful anxious though. +Would have come if Jeems and I hadn't forbidden it."</p> + +<p>Bennington wondered vaguely who Bill might be, but he was beginning to +feel a little tired from the excitement and his wound, so he said +nothing.</p> + +<p>"The next thing is grub," remarked Fay, rising and gathering his pony's +reins. "I'll mosey up to the shack and see about supper. You fellows +can sit around and talk until I get organized."</p> + +<p>He turned to move away, leading his horse.</p> + +<p>"Hold on a minute, Jim," called Bert. "You might lend me your bronc, +and I'll lope down and set Bill's mind easy. It won't take long."</p> + +<p>"Good scheme!" approved Jim heartily. "That's thoughtful of you, +Bertie!"</p> + +<p>He dropped the reins where he stood, and the pony, with the usual +well-trained Western docility, hung his head and halted. Bert arose and +looked down the shaft.</p> + +<p>"Supper will be served shortly, gentlemen," he observed suavely. He +turned toward the pony.</p> + +<p>"Bert," called Bennington in a different voice, "did you say you were +going down the gulch?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Do you want to do something for me?"</p> + +<p>"Why, surely. What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Would you just as soon stop at the Lawtons' and tell Miss Lawton for +me that it's all right! You'll find the Lawton house----"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know where the Lawton house is," interrupted Bert, "but Miss +Lawton, you said?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you remember, Bert," put in James, "there is a kid there—Maude, +or something of that sort?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, not Maude," persisted Bennington, still more bashfully. "I +mean Miss Lawton, the young lady."</p> + +<p>He felt that both the youths were looking keenly at him with dawning +wonder and delight. "Hold on, Bert," interposed James, as the other was +about to exclaim, "do you mean, Ben, the one you've been giving such a +rush for the last two months?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Lawton and I are very good friends," replied Bennington with +dignity, wondering whence James had his information.</p> + +<p>Bert drew in his breath sharply, and opened his mouth to speak.</p> + +<p>"Hold on, Bert," interposed James again. "There are possibilities in +this. Don't destroy artistic development by undue haste. What did you +call the young lady, Ben?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Lawton, of course!"</p> + +<p>"Daughter of Bill Lawton?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my eye!" ejaculated James.</p> + +<p>"And you have eyes in your head!" he cried after a moment. "You have +ears in your head! Blamed if you haven't everything in your head but +brains! She's a good one! I didn't appreciate the subtlety of that +woman before. Ben, you everlasting idiot, do you mean to tell me that +you've seen that girl every day for the last two months, and don't know +yet that she's too good to belong to Bill Lawton?"</p> + +<p>Bert began to laugh hysterically.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean!" cried Bennington.</p> + +<p>"What I say. <i>She</i> isn't Bill Lawton's daughter. Her name isn't Lawton +at all. O glory! He don't even know her name!" James in his turn went +into a fit of laughing. In uncontrollable excitement Bennington seized +him with his sound hand.</p> + +<p>"What is it? Tell me! What is her name, then?"</p> + +<p>"O Lord! Don't squeeze so! I'll tell you! Letup!"</p> + +<p>James dashed the back of his hand across his eyes.</p> + +<p>"What is her name?" repeated Bennington fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Wilhelmina Fay. We call her Bill for short."</p> + +<p>"And Jim Fay?"</p> + +<p>"Is her brother."</p> + +<p>"And the Lawtons?"</p> + +<p>"They board there."</p> + +<p>Across Bennington's mind flashed vaguely a suspicion that turned him +faint with mortification.</p> + +<p>"Who is this Jim Fay?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"He's Jim Fay—James Leicester Fay, of Boston."</p> + +<p>"Not----"</p> + +<p>"Yes, exactly. The Boston Fays."</p> + +<p>Bert swung himself into the saddle. "Better not say anything to Bill +about the young 'un's shoulder," called after him the ever-thoughtful +James.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>MASKS OFF</h3> +<br> + +<p>Now that it was all explained, it seemed to Bennington de Laney to be +ridiculously simple. He wondered how he could have been so blind. For +the moment, however, all other emotions were swallowed up in intense +mortification over the density he had displayed, and the ridiculous +light in which he must have appeared to all the actors in the comedy. +His companion perceived this, and kindly hastened to relieve it.</p> + +<p>"You're wondering how it all happened," said he, "but you don't want to +ask about it. I'm going to tell you the story of your life. You see, +Bert and I knew the Fays very well in Boston, and we knew also that +they were out here in the Hills. That's what tickled us so when you +said you were coming out to this very place. You know yourself, Ben, +that you were pretty green when you were in New York—you must know it, +because you have got over it so nicely since—and it struck us, after +you talked so much about the 'Wild West,' that it would be a shame if +you didn't get some of it. So we wrote Jim that you were coming, and to +see to it that you had a time."</p> + +<p>Jim chuckled a little. "From his letters, I guess you had it. He wrote +about that horse he sprung on you, and the time they lynched you, and +all the rest of it, and we thought we had done pretty well, especially +since Jim wrote he thought you weren't half bad, and had come through +in good shape. He wrote, too, that you had run against Bill, and that +Bill was fooling you up in some way—way unspecified. He seemed to be a +little afraid that Bill was trifling with your young affections—how is +it Ben, anyway?—but he said that Bill was very haughty on the subject, +and as he'd never been able to do anything with her before, he didn't +believe he'd have much success if he should try now. I suggested that +Bill might get in a little deep herself," went on James, watching his +listener's face keenly, "but Bert seemed inclined to the opinion that +any one as experienced as Bill was perfectly able to take care of +herself anywhere. She's a mighty fine girl, Ben, old man," suddenly +concluded this startling youth, holding out his hand, "and I wish you +every success in the world in getting her!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Jeems," replied Bennington simply, without attempting to +deny the state of affairs. "I'm sure I'm glad of your good wishes, but +I'm afraid I haven't any show now." He sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>"I'll give an opinion on that after I see Bill again," observed the +artist sagely.</p> + +<p>"It always struck me as being queer that two of the most refined people +about here should happen to be living in the same house," commented +Bennington, only just aware that it had so struck him.</p> + +<p>"Did it, indeed?" said Leslie drolly. "You're just bursting with +sagacity now, aren't you? And your Sherlock-Holmes intellect is +seething with conjecture. The lover's soul is far above the sordid +earthly considerations which interest us ordinary mortals, but I'll bet +a hat you are wondering how it comes that a Boston girl is out here +without any more restraint on her actions than a careless brother who +doesn't bother himself, and why she's out here at all, and a few things +like that. 'Fess up."</p> + +<p>"Well," acknowledged Bennington a trifle reluctantly, "of course it is +a little out of the ordinary, but then it's all right, somehow, I'll +swear."</p> + +<p>"All right! Of course it's all right! They haven't any father or +mother, you know, and they are independent of action, as you've no +doubt noticed. Bill kept house for Jim for some time—and they used to +keep a great house, I tell you," said James, smacking his lips in +recollection. "Bert and I used to visit there a good deal. That's why +they call me Jeems—to distinguish me from Jim. Then Jim got tired of +doing nothing—they possess everlasting rocks—you know their lamented +dad was a sort of amateur Croesus—and he decided to monkey with mines. +Bert and I were here one summer, so Bill and Jim just pulled up stakes +and came along too. They have been here ever since. They're both true +sports and like the life, and all that; and, besides, Jim has kept busy +monkeying with mining speculation. They're the salt of the earth, that +pair, if they <i>do</i> worry poor old Boston to death with their ways of +doing things. That's one reason I like 'em so much. Society has fits +over their doings, but it can't get along without them."</p> + +<p>"The Fays are a pretty good family, aren't they?" inquired Bennington. +He was irresistibly impelled to ask this question.</p> + +<p>"Best going. Mayflower, William the Conqueror, and all that rot. You +must know of the Boston Fays."</p> + +<p>"I do. That is, I've heard of them; but I didn't know whether they were +the same."</p> + +<p>Jeems perceived that the topic interested the young fellow, so he +descanted at length concerning the Fays, their belongings, and their +doings. Time passed rapidly. Bennington was surprised to see Jim coming +down to them through the afterglow of sunset announcing vociferously +that the meal was at last prepared.</p> + +<p>"I've fed the old lady," he announced, "and unlocked her. She doesn't +know what's up anyway. She just sits there like a graven image, scared +to death. She doesn't know a relocation from a telegraph pole. I told +her to get a move on her and fix us up some bunks, and I guess she's +at it now."</p> + +<p>They consulted as to the best means of guarding the prisoners. It was +finally agreed that Leslie should stand sentinel until the others had +finished supper.</p> + +<p>"I want to watch the effect of this light on the hills," he announced +positively, "and I'm not hungry, and Jim ought to cool off before +coming out into the air, and Ben's shoulder ought to be taken care of. +Get along with ye!"</p> + +<p>Bennington accompanied Jim to the meal very cheerfully. The facts as to +the latter's persecutions remained the same, but in some way they did +not hold the same proportions as heretofore. The mere item that Jim Fay +was Mary's brother, instead of her lover, made all the difference in +the world. He chattered in a lively fashion concerning the method of +work to be adopted. Suddenly he pulled himself up short.</p> + +<p>"I think I must beg your pardon," he said. "I heard about it all from +Jim Leslie. I have been very green, and you were quite right. If you +still want to do so, let's go into this together as friends."</p> + +<p>"No pardon coming to me," responded Fay heartily. "I've been a little +tough on you occasionally, that I'll admit, and if I've done too much, +I'm sure I beg <i>your</i> pardon. I saw you had the right stuff in you that +day when you stuck to the horse until you rode him, and I've always +liked you first-rate since then. And I wouldn't worry about this last +matter. You were green to the country, and were put down here without +definite instructions. You trusted Davidson, of course, and got fooled +in it; but then you just followed Bishop's lead in that. He'd been +trusting Davidson before you got here, and if he hadn't trusted him +right along, you can bet you'd have had your directions from A to Z. He +was as much to blame as you were, and you'll find that he knows it."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you can't make me feel any better about that," objected +Bennington, shaking his head despondently.</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll feel better after a time, and anyway there's no actual +harm done."</p> + +<p>At this moment Bert Leslie entered.</p> + +<p>"Bill's tickled to death," he announced. "She says she's coming up +first thing in the morning. She wanted to come right off and cook +supper, but I wouldn't let her. She couldn't very well stay here all +night, and it's pretty late now. What you got here? Pork? Coffee? +Murphies?"</p> + +<p>He sat down and began to eat hungrily. Jim arose to relieve the +sentinel at the mouth of the shaft, at the same time advising de Laney +to go to bed as soon as possible.</p> + +<p>"You're tired," he said, "and need rest. Wet that compress well with +Pond's Extract, and we'll dress it again in the morning."</p> + +<p>In the kitchen he found the strange sombre woman sitting bolt upright +in silence, her arms folded rigidly across her flat bosom. She looked +straight in front of her, and rocked slowly to and fro on her chair.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't worry, Mrs. Arthur," consoled Fay kindly, pausing for a +moment. "There isn't going to be any trouble. It's just a little matter +of mining law. We'll have to keep your husband locked up for a few +days, but he won't be harmed."</p> + +<p>The woman made no reply. Fay looked at her sharply again, and passed +out.</p> + +<p>"Jeems," he directed that individual at the mouth of the shaft, "go get +your grub. Send the kid to bed right off, and then you and Bert come +down here and we'll fix up these prairie dogs of ours down the hole."</p> + +<p>Jeems and his brother therefore helped the wounded hero to bed, and +left him to a much-needed slumber; after which they returned to the +spot of light in the darkness which marked the glow of Fay's pipe. That +capable individual issued directions. First of all they lowered, by +means of a light cord, food and water to their prisoners. The latter +maintained a sullen silence, and it was only by the lightening of the +burden at the end of the line that those above knew their provisions +had been appropriated. Then followed blankets. The Leslies were +strongly in favour of as uncomfortable a confinement as possible, and +so disapproved of blankets, but Fay insisted. After that the brothers +manned the windlass and let Jim down in a bowline about twenty feet, +while he detached and removed two lengths of the shaft ladder. This +left no means of ascent, as the walls of the shaft were smoothly +timbered; but, to make matters sure, they covered the mouth with inch +thick boards on which they piled large chunks of ore.</p> + +<p>"You don't suppose they'll smother?" suggested Bert.</p> + +<p>"Not much! There's only three of them, and often men drilling will stay +down ten or twelve hours at a time without using up the air."</p> + +<p>"Sweet dreams, gentlemen!" called the irrepressible Jeems in farewell.</p> + +<p>"There's one other thing," said Jim, "and then we can crawl in."</p> + +<p>He approached the cabin in which Arthur and his wife were accustomed to +sleep, and listened until he had satisfied himself that Mrs. Arthur was +inside. Then he softly locked the door, the key of which he had +appropriated immediately after supper, and propped shut the heavy +wooden shutter of the window.</p> + +<p>"No dramatic escapes in ours, thank you!" he muttered. He drew back and +surveyed his work with satisfaction. "Come on, boys, let's turn in. +To-morrow we slave."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>THE LAND OF VISIONS</h3> +<br> + +<p>Although he had retired so early, and in so exhausted a condition, +Bennington de Laney could not sleep. He had taken a slight fever, and +the wound in his shoulder was stiff and painful. For hours on end he +lay flat on his back, staring at the dim illuminations of the windows +and listening to the faint out-of-door noises or the sharper borings of +insects in the logs of the structure. His mind was not active. He lay +in a semi-torpor, whose most vivid consciousness was that of mental +discomfort and the interminability of time.</p> + +<p>The events of the day rose up before him, but he seemed to loathe them +merely because they had been of so active a character, and now he could +not bear to have his brain teased even with their impalpable shadow.</p> + +<p>Strangely enough, this altitude seemed to create a certain dead +polarity between him and them. They lay sullenly outside his brain, +repelled by this dead polarity, and he looked at them languidly, +against the dim illumination of the window, with a dull joy that they +could not come near him and enter the realm of his thoughts. All this +was the fever.</p> + +<p>In a little time these events became endowed with more palpable bodies +which moved. The square of semilucent window faded into something +indescribable, and that into something indescribable, and that into +something else, still indescribable.</p> + +<p>They moved swiftly, and things happened. He found himself suddenly in a +long gallery, half in the dusk, half in the lamplight, pacing slowly +back and forth, waiting for something, he knew not what. To him came a +bustling motherly old woman with a maid's cap on, who said, "Sure, +Master Ben, the moon is shining, and, let me tell ye, at the end of the +hall is a balcony of iron, and Miss Mary will be glad you know that +same." And at that he seemed to himself to be hunting for a coin with +which to tip her. He discovered it turned to lead between his fingers, +whereupon the old woman laughed shrilly and disappeared, and he found +himself alone on the prairie at midnight.</p> + +<p>His mind seemed to be filled with great thoughts which would make him +famous. Over and over again he said to himself: "The rain pours and the +people down below chuckle as they move about each under his little +umbrella of self-conceit. They look up to the mountain, saying, 'The +fool! Why looks he so high? He is lost in the mists up there, and he +might be safe and dry with us.' But the mountain has over him the arch +of the universe, and sleeps calmly in the sun of truth. Little recks he +of the clouds below, and knows not at all the little self-satisfied +fools who pity him," and he thought this was the sum of all wisdom, and +that with it would come immortality.</p> + +<p>Then a bell began to boom, a deep-toned bell, whose tolling was +inexpressibly solemn, and poured into his heart a sadness too deep for +sorrow. As though there dwelt an enchantment in the very sound itself, +the dark prairies shifted like a scene, and in their stead he saw, in a +cold gray twilight, a high doorway built of a cold gray stone, +rough-hewed and heavy. Through its arch passed then a file of +gray-cowled monks, their faces concealed. Each carried a torch, whose +flickering, wavering light cast weird cowled figures on the gray stone, +and in their midst was borne a bier, covered with white. And as the +deep bell boomed on through all the vision, like a subtle thrilling +presence, Bennington seemed to himself to stand, finger on lip, the +eternal custodian of the Secret of it all—the secret that each of +these cowled figures was a Man—a divine soul and a body, with ears, +and eyes, and a brain; that he had thoughts, and his life that is and +is to come was of these thoughts; that there beat hearts beneath that +gray, and that their voices must not be heeded; that in the morning +these wearied eyes awaited but the eve, and that the evening brought no +hope for a new day; that these silent, awesome beings lived within the +heavy stones alone with monotony, until the bell tolled, as now, and +they were carried through the arched doorway into the night; and, above +all, that to each there were sixty minutes in the hour, and twenty-four +hours in the day, and years and years of these days. This was the +Secret, and he was its custodian. None of the others knew of it; but +its awfulness made him sad and stern. He checked the days, he numbered +the hours, he counted the minutes rigorously lest one escape. One did +escape, and he turned back to catch it, and pursued it far away from +the stone doorway and the dull twilight, and even the sound of the +bell, off into a land where there were many hills and valleys, among +which the fugitive Minute hid elusively. And he pursued the Minute, +calling upon it to come to him, and the name by which he called it was +Mary. Then he saw that the square of the window had become yellow with +the sun, and that through it he could hear plainly the voices of the +Leslies talking in high tones.</p> + +<p>His brain was very clear, more so than usual, and he not only received +many impressions, and ordered them with ease and despatch, but his very +senses seemed more than ordinarily acute. He could distinguish even by +day, when the night stillness had withdrawn its favouring conditions, +the borings of the sawdust insects in the logs of the cabin. Only he +was very tired. His hands seemed a long distance away, as though it +would require an extraordinary effort of the will to lift them. So he +lay quiet and listened.</p> + +<p>The conversation, of which he was the eavesdropper, was carried on by +fits and starts. First a sentence would be delivered by one of the +Leslies; then would ensue a pause as though for a reply, inaudible to +any but the interlocutors themselves; then another sentence; and so on, +like a man at a telephone. After a moment's puzzling over it, +Bennington understood that Jim Leslie was talking to one of the +prisoners down the shaft.</p> + +<p>"You have the true sporting spirit, sir," cried the voice of Jeems. "I +honour you for it. But so philosophical a resignation, while it +inclines our souls to know more of you personally, nevertheless renders +you much less interesting in such a juncture as the present. I would +like to hear from Mr. Davidson."</p> + +<p>Pause.</p> + +<p>"That was a performance, Mr. Davidson, which I can not entirely +commend. It is fluent, to be sure, but it lacks variety. A true artist +would have interspersed those finer shades and gradations of meaning +which go to express the numerous and clashing emotions which must +necessarily agitate your venerable bosom. You surely mean more than +<i>damn</i>. <i>Damn</i> is expressive and forceful, because capable of being +enunciated at one explosive effort of the breath, but it is monotonous +when too freely employed. To be sure, you might with some justice reply +that you had qualified said adjective strongly—but the qualification +was trite though blasphemous. And you limited it very nicely—but the +limitation to myself is unjust, as it overlooks my brother's equitable +claims to notice."</p> + +<p>Pause.</p> + +<p>"I <i>beg</i> pardon! Kindly repeat!"</p> + +<p>Pause.</p> + +<p>"Delicious! Mr. Davidson, you have redeemed yourself. Bertie, did you +hear Mr. Davidson's last remark?"</p> + +<p>"No!" replied another voice. "Couldn't be bothered. What was it?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Davidson, with a polished sarcasm that amounted to genius, advised +me in his picturesque vernacular 't' set thet jaw of mine goin', and +then go away an' leave it!'"</p> + +<p>Pause.</p> + +<p>"I beg you, Mr. Slayton, do not think of such a thing. I would not have +him repressed for anything in the world. As you value our future +acquaintanceship, do not end our interview. Thank you! I appreciate +your compliment, and in return will repeat that, though in a pretty +sharp game, you are a true sport. Our friend Arthur is strangely +silent. I have never met Mr. Arthur. I have heard that either his face +or his hat looks like a fried egg, but I forget for the moment which +was so characterized."</p> + +<p>Pause.</p> + +<p>"Fie, fie! Mr. Arthur. Addison, in his most intoxicated moments, would +never have used such language."</p> + +<p>And then the man in the cabin, lying on the bed, began to laugh in a +low tone. His laugh was not pleasant to hear. He was realizing how +funny things were to other people—things that had not been funny to +him at all. For the first time he caught a focus on his father, with +his pompous pride and his stilted diction; on his mother's social +creed. He cared as much for them as ever and his respect was as great, +but now he realized that outsiders could never understand them as he +did, and that always to others they must appear ridiculous. So he +laughed. And, too, he perceived that the world would see something +grimly humorous in his insistence on the girl's parentage, when all the +time, in the home to which he was to bring her, dwelt these unlovable, +snobbish old parents of his own. So he laughed. And he thought of how +he had been fooled, and played with, and duped, and cheated, and all +but disgraced by the very people on whom he had looked down from a +fancied superiority. And so he laughed. And as he laughed his hands +swelled up to the size of pillows, and he thought that he was dressed +in a loose garment spotted all over with great spots, and that he was +standing on a stage before these grave, silent hillmen. The light came +in through a golden-yellow square just behind them. In the front row +sat Mary, looking at him with wide-open, trusting eyes. And he was +revolving these hands like pillows around each other, trying to make +the sombre men and the wistful girl laugh with him, while over and +over certain words slipped in between his cachinnations, like stray +bird-notes through a rattle of drums.</p> + +<p>"I have no fresh motley for my lady's amusement," he was saying to her, +"no new philosophies to spread out for my lady's inspection, no bright +pictures to display for my lady's pleasure, and so I, like a poor +poverty-stricken minstrel whose harp has been broken, yet dare beg at +the castle gate for a crumb of my lady's bounty." At which he would +have wept, but could only laugh louder and louder.</p> + +<p>Then dimly he knew again he was in his own room, and he felt that +several people were moving back and forth quickly. He tried to rise, +but could not, and he knew that he was slipping back to the hall and +the solemn crowd of men. He did not want to go. He grasped convulsively +at the blanket with his sound hand, and shrieked aloud.</p> + +<p>"I am sick! I am sick! I am sick!" he cried louder and louder.</p> + +<p>Some one laid a cool hand on his forehead, and he lay quiet and smiled +contentedly. The room and the people became wraithlike. He saw them +still, but he saw through them to a reality of soft meadows and summer +skies, from which Mary leaned, resting her hand on his brow. Voices +spoke, but muffled, as though by many veils. They talked of various +things.</p> + +<p>"It's the mountain fever," he heard one say. "It's a wonder he escaped +it so long."</p> + +<p>Then the cool hand was withdrawn from his brow, and inexorably he was +hurried back into the land of visions.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>FLOWER O' THE WORLD</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington de Laney found himself lying comfortably in bed, listening +with closed eyes to a number of sounds. Of these there most impressed +him two. They were a certain rhythmical muffled beat, punctuated at +intervals by a slight rustling of paper; and a series of metallic +clicks, softened somewhat by distance. After a time it occurred to him +to open his eyes. At once he noticed two things more—that he had some +way acquired fresh white sheets for his bed, and that on a little table +near the foot of his bunk stood a vase of flowers. These two new +impressions satisfied him for some time. He brooded over them slowly, +for his brain was weak. Then he allowed his gaze to wander to the +window. From above its upper sash depended two long white curtains of +some lacelike material, freshly starched and with deep edges, ruffled +slightly in a pleasing fashion. They stirred slowly in the warm air +from the window. Bennington watched them lazily, breathing with +pleasure the balmy smell of pine, and listening to the sounds. The +clinking noises came through the open window. He knew now that they +meant the impact of sledge on drill. Some one was drilling somewhere. +His glance roved on, and rested without surprise on a girl in a rocking +chair swaying softly to and fro, and reading a book, the turning of +whose leaves had caused the rustling of paper which he had noticed +first.</p> + +<p>For a long time he lay silent and contented. Her fine brown hair had +been drawn back smoothly away from her forehead into a loose knot. She +was dressed in a simple gown of white—soft, and resting on the curves +of her slender figure as lightly as down on the surface of the warm +meadows. From beneath the full skirt peeped a little slippered foot, +which tapped the floor rhythmically as the chair rocked to and fro. +Finally she glanced up and discovered him locking at her. She arose and +came to the bedside, her finger on her lips.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't talk," she said sweetly, a great joy in her eyes. "I'm so +glad you're better."</p> + +<p>She left the room, and returned in a little time with a bowl of chicken +broth, which she fed him with a spoon. It tasted very good to him, and +he felt the stronger for it, but as yet his voice seemed a long +distance away. When she turned to leave the room, however, he murmured +inarticulately and attempted to stir. She came back to the bed at once.</p> + +<p>"I'll be back in a minute," she said gently, but seeing some look of +pleading in his eyes, she put the empty bowl and spoon on the little +table and sat down on the floor near the bed. He smiled, and then, +closing his eyes, fell asleep—outside the borders of the land of +visions, and with the music of a woman's voice haunting the last +moments of his consciousness.</p> + +<p>After the fever had once broken, his return to strength was rapid. +Although accompanied by delirium, and though running its full course of +weeks, the "mountain fever" is not as intense as typhoid. The +exhaustion of the vital forces is not as great, and recuperation is +easier. In two days Bennington was sitting up in bed, possessed of an +appetite that threatened to depopulate entirely the little log chicken +coop. He found that the tenancy of the camp had materially changed. +Mrs. Lawton and Miss Fay had moved in, bag and baggage—but without the +inquisitive Maude, Bennington was glad to observe.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lawton, in the presence of an emergency, turned out to be helpful +in every way. She knew all about mountain fevers for one thing, and as +the country was not yet blessed with a doctor, this was not an +unimportant item. Then, too, she was a most capable housekeeper—she +cooked, marketed, swept, dusted, and tyrannized over the mere men in a +manner to be envied even by a New England dame. Fay and the Leslies had +also taken up their quarters in the camp. Old Mizzou and the Arthurs +had gone. The old "bunk house" now accommodated a good-sized gang of +miners, who had been engaged by Fay to do the necessary assessment +work. Altogether the camp was very populous and lively.</p> + +<p>After a little Bennington learned of everything that had happened +during the three weeks of his sickness. It all came out in a series of +charming conversations, when, in the evening twilight, they gathered in +the room where the sick man lay. Mary—as Bennington still liked to +name her—occupied the rocking chair, and the three young men +distributed themselves as best suited them. It was most homelike and +resting. Bennington had never before experienced the delight of seeing +a young girl about a house, and he enjoyed to the utmost the deft +little touches by which is imparted that airily feminine appearance to +a room; or, more subtly, the mere spirit of daintiness which breathes +always from a woman of the right sort. He felt there was added a newer +and calmer element of joy to his love.</p> + +<p>During the first period of his illness, then, Jim Fay and the Leslie +brothers had worked energetically relocating the claims, while Mrs. +Lawton and Miss Fay had taken charge of the house. By the end of the +first day the job was finished. The question then came up as to the +disposition of the prisoners.</p> + +<p>"We didn't want the nuisance of a prosecution," said Fay, "because that +would mean that these mossbacks could drag us off to Rapid City any +old time as witnesses, and keep us there indefinitely. Neither did we +want to let them off scot-free. They'd made us altogether too much +trouble for that! Bert here suggested a very simple way out. I went +down to Spanish Gulch and told the boys the whole story from start to +finish. Well, it isn't hard to handle a Western crowd if you go at it +right. The boys always thought you had good stuff in you since you rode +the horse and smashed Leary's face that night. It would have been easy +to have cooked up all kinds of trouble for our precious gang, but I +managed to get the boys in a frivolous mood, so they merely came up and +had fun."</p> + +<p>"I should say they did!" Bert interjected. "They dragged the crowd out +of the shaft—and they were a tough-looking proposition, I can tell +you!--and stood them up in a row. They shaved half of Davidson's head +and half his beard, on opposite sides. They left tufts of hair all over +Arthur. They made a six-pointed star on the top of Slayton's crown. +Then they put the men's clothes on wrong side before, and tied them +facing the rear on three scrubby little burros. Then the whole outfit +was started toward Deadwood. The boys took them as far as Blue Lead, +where they delivered them over to the gang there, with instructions to +pass them along. They probably got to Deadwood. I don't know what's +become of them since."</p> + +<p>"I think it was cruel!" put in Miss Fay decidedly.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. But it was better than hanging them."</p> + +<p>"What became of Mrs. Arthur?" asked the invalid.</p> + +<p>"I shipped her to Deadwood with a little money. Poor creature! It would +be a good thing for her if her husband never did show up. She'd get +along better without him."</p> + +<p>The claims located and the sharpers got rid of, Fay proceeded at once +to put the assessment work under way. In this, his long Western +experience, and his intimate acquaintance with the men, stood him in +such good stead that he was enabled to contract the work at a cheaper +rate than Bishop's estimate.</p> + +<p>"I wrote to Bishop," he said, "and told him all about it. In his +answer, which I'll show you, he took all the blame to himself, just as +I anticipated he would, and he's so tickled to death over the showing +made by the assays that he's coming out here himself to see about +development. So I'm afraid you're going to lose your job."</p> + +<p>"I'm not sorry to go home. But I'm sorry to leave the Hills." He looked +wistfully through the twilight toward Mary's slender figure, outlined +against the window. The three men caught the glance, and began at once +to talk in low tones to each other. In a moment they went out. Somehow, +on returning from the land of visions, Ben found that the world had +moved, and that one of the results of the movement was that many things +were taken for granted by the little community of four who surrounded +him. It was as though the tangle had unravelled quietly while he slept. +She leaned toward him shyly, and whispered something to his ear. He +smiled contentedly.</p> + +<p>They talked then long and comfortably in the dusk—about how the +Leslies had written the letter, how much trouble she had taken to +conceal her real identity, and all the rest.</p> + +<p>"I sent Bill Lawton up to warn your camp the first day I met you," said +she.</p> + +<p>"Why, I remember!" he cried. "He was there when I got back."</p> + +<p>And they talked on of their many experiences, in the fashion of lovers, +and how they had come to care for each other, and when.</p> + +<p>"I made up my mind it was so foolish a joke," she confessed, "that I +determined to tell you all about it. You remember I had something to +tell you at the Pioneer's Picnic? That was it. But then you remember +the girl in the train, and how, when she looked at us, you turned +away?"</p> + +<p>"I remember that well enough," replied Bennington. "But what has that +to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"It was a perfectly natural thing to do, dearest. I see that plainly +enough now. But it hurt me a little that you should be ashamed of me as +a Western girl, and I made up my mind to test you."</p> + +<p>"Why, I wasn't thinking of that at all," cried Bennington. "I was just +ashamed of my clothes. I never thought of you!"</p> + +<p>She reached out and patted his hand. "I'm glad to hear that, Ben dear, +after all. It did hurt. And I was so foolish. I thought if you were +ashamed of me, you would never stand the thought of the Lawtons. So I +did not tell you the truth then, but resolved to test you in that way."</p> + +<p>"Foolish little girl!" said he tenderly. "But it came out all right, +didn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she sighed, with a happy gesture of the hands. They fell silent.</p> + +<p>"I want you to tell me something, dear," said Bennington after a while. +"You needn't unless you want to, but I've thought about it a great +deal."</p> + +<p>"I will tell you, Ben, anything in the world. We ought to be frank with +each other now, don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know as I ought to say anything about it, after all," he +hesitated, evidently embarrassed. "But, Mary, you know you have hinted +a little at it yourself. You remember you said something once about +losing faith, and being made hard, and----"</p> + +<p>She took both his hands in hers and drew them closely to her breast. +Although he could not see her eyes against the dusk, he knew that she +was looking at him steadily.</p> + +<p>"Listen quietly, Ben dear, and I will tell you. Before I came out here +I thought I loved a man, and he—well, he did not treat me well. I had +trusted him and every one else implicitly until the very moment +when----I felt it very much, and I came West with Jim to get away from +the old scenes. Now I know that it was only fascination, but it was +very real then. You do not like that, Ben, do you? The memory is not +pleasant to me, and yet," she said, with a wistful little break of the +voice, "if it hadn't been for that I would not have been the woman I +am, and I could not love you, dearest, as I do. It is never in the same +way twice, but each time something better and higher is added to it. +Oh, my darling, I <i>do</i> love you, I do love you so much, and you must be +always my generous, poetic <i>boy</i>, as you are now."</p> + +<p>She strained his hands to her as though afraid he would slip from her +clasp. "All that is ideal so soon hardens. I can not bear to think of +your changing."</p> + +<p>Bennington leaned forward and their lips met. "We will forgive him," he +murmured.</p> + +<p>And what that remark had to do with it only our gentler readers will be +able to say.</p> + +<p>Ah, the delicious throbbing silence after the first kiss!</p> + +<p>"What was your decision that afternoon on the Rock, Ben? You never told +me." She asked presently, in a lighter tone, "Would you have taken me +in spite of my family?"</p> + +<p>He laughed with faint mischief.</p> + +<p>"Before I tell you, I want to ask <i>you</i> something," he said in his +turn. "Supposing I had decided that, even though I loved you, I must +give you up because of my duty to my family—suppose that, I say—what +would <i>you</i> have done? Would your love for me have been so strong that +you would have finally confessed to me the fact that the Lawtons were +not your parents? Or would you have thrown me over entirely because you +thought I did not love you enough to take you for yourself?"</p> + +<p>She considered the matter seriously for some little time.</p> + +<p>"Ben, I don't know," she confessed at last frankly. "I can't tell."</p> + +<p>"No more can I, sweetheart. I hadn't decided."</p> + +<p>She puckered her brows in the darkness with genuine distress. Women +worry more than men over past intangibilities. He smiled comfortably to +himself, for in his grasp he held, unresisting, the dearest little hand +in the world. Outside, the ever-charming, ever-mysterious night of the +Hills was stealing here and there in sighs and silences. From the +darkness came the high sweet tenor of Bert Leslie's voice in the words +of a song:</p> + +"A Sailor to the Sea, a Hunter to the Pines,<br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Sea and Pines alike to joy the Rover,</span><br> +The Wood-smells to the nostrils of the Lover of the Trail,<br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Hearts to Hearts the whole World over!"</span><br> + +<p>Through and through the words of the song, like a fine silver wire +through richer cloth of gold, twined the long-drawn, tremulous notes +of the white-throated sparrow, the nightingale of the North.</p> + +<p>"The dear old Hills," he murmured tenderly. "We must come back to them +often, sweetheart."</p> + +<p>"I wish, I <i>wish</i> I knew!" she cried, holding his hand tighter.</p> + +<p>"Knew what?" he asked, surprised.</p> + +<p>"What you'd have done, and what I'd have done!"</p> + +<p>"Well," he replied, with a happy sigh, "I know what I'm <i>going</i> to do, +and that's quite enough for me."</p> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10942 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f1da59 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #10942 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10942) diff --git a/old/10942-8.txt b/old/10942-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..85f9c67 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10942-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6314 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Claim Jumpers, by Stewart Edward White + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Claim Jumpers + +Author: Stewart Edward White + +Release Date: February 4, 2004 [EBook #10942] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLAIM JUMPERS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +THE CLAIM JUMPERS + +_A ROMANCE_ + + +BY + +STEWART EDWARD WHITE + + + + +1901 + + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + + I.--JIM LESLIE WRITES A LETTER + II.--THE STORY-BOOK WEST + III.--BENNINGTON HUNTS FOR GOLD AND FINDS A KISS + IV.--THE SUN FAIRY + V.--THE SPIRIT MOUNTAIN + VI.--BENNINGTON AS A MAN OF BUSINESS + VII.--THE MEETING AT THE ROCK + VIII.--AN ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT + IX.--THE HEAVENS OPENED + X.--THE WORLD MADE YOUNG + XI.--AND HE DID EAT + XII.--OLD MIZZOU RESIGNS + XIII.--THE SPIRES OF STONE + XIV.--THE PIONEER'S PICNIC + XV.--THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN + XVI.--A NOON DINNER + XVII.--NOBLESSE OBLIGE +XVIII.--THE CLAIM JUMPERS + XIX.--BENNINGTON PROVES GAME + XX.--MASKS OFF + XXI.--THE LAND OF VISIONS + XXII.--FLOWER O' THE WORLD + + + + +CHAPTER I + +JIM LESLIE WRITES A LETTER + + +In a fifth-story sitting room of a New York boarding house four youths +were holding a discussion. The sitting room was large and square, and +in the wildest disorder, which was, however, sublimated into a certain +system by an illuminated device to the effect that one should "Have a +Place for Everything, and then there'll be one Place you won't have to +look." Easels and artists' materials thrust back to the wall +sufficiently advertised the art student, and perhaps explained the +untidiness. + +Two of the occupants of the room, curled up on elevated window ledges, +were emitting clouds of tobacco smoke and nursing their knees; the +other two, naked to the waist, sat on a couple of ordinary bedroom +mattresses deposited carefully in the vacant centre of the apartment. +They were eager, alert-looking young men, well-muscled, curly of hair, +and possessing in common an unabashed carriage of the head which, more +plainly than any mere facial resemblance, proved them brothers. They, +too, were nursing their knees. + +"He must be an unadorned ass," remarked one of the occupants of the +window seats, in answer to some previous statement. + +"He is not," categorically denied a youth of the mattresses. "My dear +Hench, you make no distinctions. I've been talking about the boy's +people and his bringing up and the way he acts, whereupon you fly off +on a tangent and coolly conclude things about the boy himself. It is +not only unkind, but stupid." + +Hench laughed. "You amuse me, Jeems," said he; "elucidate." + +Jeems let go his knees. The upper part of his body, thus deprived of +support, fell backward on the mattress. He then clasped his hands +behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. + +"Listen, ye multitude," he began; "I'm an artist. So are you. I'm also +a philosopher. You are not. Therefore, I'll deign to instruct you. Ben +de Laney has a father and a mother. The father is pompous, conceited, +and a bore. The mother is pompous, conceited, and a bore. The father +uses language of whose absolutely vapid correctness Addison would have +been proud. So does the mother, unless she forgets, in which case the +old man calls her down hard. They, are rich and of a good social +position. The latter worries them, because they have to keep up its +dignity." + +"They succeed," interrupted the other brother fervently, "they succeed. +I dined there once. After that I went around to the waxworks to get +cheered up a bit." + +"Quite so, Bertie," replied the philosopher; "but you interrupted me +just before I got to my point. The poor old creatures had been married +many years before Bennie came to cheer _them_ up. Naturally, Bennie has +been the whole thing ever since. He is allowed a few privileges, but +always under the best auspices. The rest of the time he stays at home, +is told what or what not a gentleman should do, and is instructed in +the genealogy of the de Laneys." + +"The mother is always impressing him with the fact that he is a de +Laney on both sides," interpolated Bert. + +"Important, if true, as the newspapers say," remarked the other young +man on the window ledge. "What constitutes a de Laney?" + +"Hereditary lack of humour, Beck, my boy. Well, the result is that poor +Bennie is a sort of----" the speaker hesitated for his word. + +"'Willy boy,'" suggested Beck, mildly. + +"Something of the sort, but not exactly. A 'willy boy' never has ideas. +Bennie has." + +"Such as?" + +"Well, for one thing, he wants to get away. He doesn't seem quite +content with his job of idle aristocrat. I believe he's been pestering +the old man to send him West. Old man doesn't approve." + +"'That the fine bloom of culture will become rubbed off in the contact +with rude, rough men, seems to me inevitable,'" mimicked Bert in +pedantic tones, "'unless a firm sense of personal dignity and an +equally firm sense of our obligations to more refined though absent +friends hedges us about with adequate safeguards.'" + +The four laughed. "That's his style, sure enough," Jim agreed. + +"What does he want to do West?" asked Hench. + +"_He_ doesn't know. Write a book, I believe, or something of that sort. +But he _isn't_ an ass. He has a lot of good stuff in him, only it will +never get a chance, fixed the way he is now." + +A silence fell, which was broken at last by Bert. + +"Come, Jeems," he suggested; "here we've taken up Hench's valuable +idea, but are no farther with it." + +"True," said Jeems. + +He rolled over on his hands and knees. Bert took up a similar position +by his side. + +"Go!" shouted Hench from the window ledge. + +At the word, the two on the mattress turned and grappled each other +fiercely, half rising to their feet in the strenuousness of endeavour. +Jeems tried frantically for a half-Nelson. While preventing it the wily +Bert awaited his chance for a hammer-lock. In the moment of indecision +as to which would succeed in his charitable design, a knock on the door +put an end to hostilities. The gladiators sat upright and panted. + +A young man stepped bashfully into the room and closed the door behind +him. + +The newcomer was a clean-cut young fellow, of perhaps twenty-two years +of age, with regular features, brown eyes, straight hair, and sensitive +lips. He was exceedingly well-dressed. A moment's pause followed his +appearance. Then: + +"Why, it's our old friend, the kid!" cried Jeems. + +"Don't let me interrupt," begged the youth diffidently. + +"No interruption. End of round one," panted Jeems. "Glad you came. +Bertie, here, was twisting my delicate clavicle most cruelly. Know +Hench and Beck there?" + +De Laney bowed to the young men in the window, who removed their pipes +from their mouths and grinned amiably. + +"This, gentlemen," explained Jeems, without changing his position, "is +Mr. Bennie de Laney on both sides. It is extremely fortunate for Mr. de +Laney that he is a de Laney on both sides, for otherwise he would be +lop-sided." + +"You will find a seat, Mr. de Laney, in the adjoining bedroom," said +the first, with great politeness; "and if you don't care to go in +there, you will stand yourself in the corner by that easel until the +conclusion of this little discussion between Jeems and myself.--Jeems, +will you kindly state the merits of the discussion to the gentleman? +I'm out of breath." + +Jeems kindly would. + +"Bert and I have, for the last few weeks, been obeying the parting +commands of our dear mother. 'Boys,' said she, with tears in her eyes, +'Boys, always take care of one another.' So each evening I have tried +to tuck Bertie in his little bed, and Bertie, with equal enthusiasm, +has attempted to tuck _me_ in. It has been hard on pyjamas, bed +springs, and the temper of the Lady with the Piano who resides in the +apartments immediately beneath; so, at the wise suggestion of our +friends in the windows"--he waved a graceful hand toward them, and they +gravely bowed acknowledgment--"we are now engaged in deciding the +matter Græco-Roman. The winner 'tucks.' Come on, Bertie." + +The two again took position side by side, on their hands and knees, +while Mr. Hench explained to de Laney that this method of beginning the +bout was necessary, because the limited area of the mat precluded +flying falls. At a signal from Mr. Beck, they turned and grappled, +Jeems, by the grace of Providence, on top. In the course of the combat +it often happened that the two mattresses would slide apart. The +contestants, suspending their struggles, would then try to kick them +together again without releasing the advantage of their holds. The +noise was beautiful. To de Laney, strong in maternal admonitions as to +proper deportment, it was all new and stirring, and quite without +precedent. He applauded excitedly, and made as much racket as the +rest. + +A sudden and vigorous knock for the second time put an end to +hostilities. The wrestlers again sat bolt upright on the mattresses, +and listened. + +"Gentlemen," cried an irritated German voice, "there is a lady +schleeping on the next floor!" + +"Karl, Karl!" called one of the irrepressibles, "can I never teach you +to be accurate! No lady could possibly be sleeping anywhere in the +building." + +He arose from the mattress and shook himself. + +"Jeems," he continued sadly, "the world is against true virtue. Our +dear mother's wishes can not be respected." + +De Laney came out of his corner. + +"Fellows," he cried with enthusiasm, "I want you to come up and stay +all night with me some time, so mother can see that gentlemen can make +a noise!" + +Bertie sat down suddenly and shrieked. Jeems rolled over and over, +clutching small feathers from the mattress in the agony of his delight, +while the clothed youths contented themselves with amused but gurgling +chuckles. + +"Bennie, my boy," gasped Jeems, at last, "you'll be the death of me! O +Lord! O Lord! You unfortunate infant! You shall come here and have a +drum to pound; yes, you shall." He tottered weakly to his feet. "Come, +Bertie, let us go get dressed." + +The two disappeared into the bedroom, leaving de Laney uncomfortably +alone with the occupants of the window ledge. + +The young fellow walked awkwardly across the room and sat down on a +partly empty chair, not because he preferred sitting to standing, but +in order to give himself time to recover from his embarrassment. + +The sort of chaffing to which he had just been subjected was direct and +brutal; it touched all his tender spots--the very spots wherein he +realized the intensest soreness of his deficiencies, and about which, +therefore, he was the most sensitive--yet, somehow, he liked it. This +was because the Leslie boys meant to him everything free and young that +he had missed in the precise atmosphere of his own home, and so he +admired them and stood in delightful inferiority to them in spite of +his wealth and position. He would have given anything he owned to have +felt himself one of their sort; but, failing that, the next best thing +was to possess their intimacy. Of this intimacy chaffing was a gauge. +Bennington Clarence de Laney always glowed at heart when they rubbed +his fur the wrong way, for it showed that they felt they knew him well +enough to do so. And in this there was something just a little +pathetic. + +Bennington held to the society standpoint with men, so he thought he +must keep up a conversation. He did so. It was laboured. Bennington +thought of things to say about Art, the Theatre, and Books. Hench and +Beck looked at each other from time to time. + +Finally the door opened, and, to the relief of all, two sweatered and +white-ducked individuals appeared. + +"And now, Jeems, we'll smoke the pipe of peace," suggested Bert, diving +for the mantel and the pipe rack. + +"Correct, my boy," responded Jeems, doing likewise. They lit up, and +turned with simultaneous interest to their latest caller. + +"And how is the proud plutocrat?" inquired Bert; "and how did he +contrive to get leave to visit us rude and vulgar persons?" + +The Leslies had called at the de Laneys', and, as Bert said, had dined +there once. They recognised their status, and rejoiced therein. + +"He is calling on the minister," explained Jeems for him. "Bennington, +my son, you'll get caught at that some day, as sure as shooting. If +your mamma ever found out that, instead of talking society-religion to +old Garnett, you were revelling in this awful dissipation, you'd have +to go abroad again." + +"What did you call him?" inquired Bert. + +"Call who?" + +"Him--Bennie--what was that full name?" + +"Bennington." + +"Great Scott! and here I've been thinking all the time he was plain +Benjamin! Tell us about it, my boy. What is it? It sounds like a battle +of the Revolution. _Is_ it a battle of the Revolution? Just to think +that all this time we have been entertaining unawares a real live +battle!" + +De Laney grinned, half-embarrassed as usual. + +"It's a family name," said he. "It's the name of an ancestor." + +He never knew whether or not these vivacious youths really desired the +varied information they demanded. + +The Leslies looked upon him with awe. + +"You don't mean to tell me," said Bertie, "that you are a Bennington! +Well, well! This is a small world! We will celebrate the discovery." He +walked to the door and touched a bell five times. "Beautiful system," +he explained. "In a moment Karl will appear with five beers. This +arrangement is possible because never, in any circumstances, do we ring +for anything but beer." + +The beer came. Two steins, two glasses, and a carefully scrubbed +shaving mug were pressed into service. After the excitement of finding +all these things had died, and the five men were grouped about the +place in ungraceful but comfortable attitudes, Bennington bid for the +sympathy he had sought in this visit. + +"Fellows," said he, "I've something to tell you." + +"Let her flicker," said Jim. + +"I'm going away next week. It's all settled." + +"Bar Harbour, Trouville, Paris, or Berlin?" + +"None of them. I'm going West." + +"Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, San Diego, or Monterey?" + +"None of them. I'm going to the real West. I'm going to a mining camp." + +The Leslies straightened their backbones. + +"Don't spring things on us that way," reproved Bertie severely; "you'll +give us heart disease. Now repeat softly." + +"I am going to a mining camp," obeyed Bennington, a little +shamefacedly. + +"With whom?" + +"Alone." + +This time the Leslies sprang quite to their feet. + +"By the Great Horn Spoon, man!" cried Jim. "Alone! No chaperon! Good +Lord!" + +"Yes," said Bennington, "I've always wanted to go West. I want to +write, and I'm sure, in that great, free country, I'll get a chance for +development. I had to work hard to induce father and mother to consent, +but it's done now, and I leave next week. Father procured me a position +out there in one of the camps. I'm to be local treasurer, or something +like that; I'm not quite sure, you see, for I haven't talked with +Bishop yet. I go to his office for directions to-morrow." + +At the mention of Bishop the Leslies glanced at each other behind the +young man's back. + +"Bishop?" repeated Jim. "Where's your job located?" + +"In the Black Hills of South Dakota, somewhere near a little place +called Spanish Gulch." + +This time the Leslies winked at each other. + +"It's a nice country," commented Bert vaguely; "I've been there." + +"Oh, have you?" cried the young man. "What's it like?" + +"Hills, pines, log houses, good hunting--oh, it's Western enough." + +A clock struck in a church tower outside. In spite of himself, +Bennington started. + +"Better run along home," laughed Jim; "your mamma will be angry." + +To prove that this consideration carried no weight, Bennington stayed +ten minutes longer. Then he descended the five flights of stairs +deliberately enough, but once out of earshot of his friends, he ran +several blocks. Before going into the house he took off his shoes. In +spite of the precaution, his mother called to him as he passed her +room. It was half past ten. + +Beck and Hench kicked de Laney's chair aside, and drew up more +comfortably before the fire; but James would have none of it. He seemed +to be excited. + +"No," he vetoed decidedly. "You fellows have got to get out! I've got +something to do, and I can't be bothered." + +The visitors grumbled. "There's true hospitality for you," objected +they; "turn your best friends out into the cold world! I like that!" + +"Sorry, boys," insisted James, unmoved. "Got an inspiration. Get out! +Vamoose!" + +They went, grumbling loudly down the length of the stairs, to the +disgust of the Lady with the Piano on the floor below. + +"What're you up to, anyway, Jimmie?" inquired the brother with some +curiosity. + +James had swept a space clear on the table, and was arranging some +stationery. + +"Don't you care," he replied; "you just sit down and read your little +Omar for a while." + +He plunged into the labours of composition, and Bert sat smoking +meditatively. After some moments the writer passed a letter over to the +smoker. + +"Think it'll do?" he inquired. + +Bert read the letter through carefully. + +"Jeems," said he, after due deliberation, "Jeems, you're a blooming +genius." + +James stamped the envelope. + +"I'll mail it for you when I go out in the morning," Bert suggested. + +"Not on your daily bread, sonny. It is posted now by my own hand. We +won't take any chances on _this_ layout, and that I can tell you." + +He tramped down four flights and to the corner, although it was +midnight and bitter cold. Then, with a seraphic grin on his +countenance, he went to bed and slept the sleep of the just. + +The envelope was addressed to a Mr. James Fay, Spanish Gulch, South +Dakota. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE STORY-BOOK WEST + + +When a man is twenty-one, and has had no experience, and graduates from +a small college where he roomed alone in splendour, and possesses a +gift of words and a certain delight in reading, and is thrown into new +and, to him, romantic surroundings--when all these stars of chance +cross their orbits, he begins to write a novel. The novel never has +anything to do with the aforesaid new and romantic surroundings; +neither has it the faintest connection with anything the author has +ever seen. That would limit his imagination. + +Once he was well settled in his new home, and the first excitement of +novel impressions had worn off, Bennington de Laney began to write +regularly three hours a day. He did his scribbling with a fountain pen, +on typewriter paper, and left a broad right-hand margin, just as he had +seen Brooks do. In it he experienced, above all, a delightful feeling +of power. He enjoyed to the full his ability to swing gorgeous involved +sentences, phrase after phrase, down the long arc of rhetoric, without +a pause, without a quiver, until they rushed unhasting up the other +slope to end in beautiful words, polysyllabic, but with just the right +number of syllables. Interspersed were short sentences. He counted the +words in one or the other of these two sorts, carefully noting the +relations they bore to each other. On occasions he despaired because +they did not bear the right relations. And he also dragged out, +squirming, the Anglo-Saxon and Latin derivations, and set them up in a +row that he might observe their respective numbers. He was uneasily +conscious that he ought, in the dread of college anathema, to use the +former, but he loved the many-syllabled crash or modulated music of the +latter. Also, there was the question of getting variety into his +paragraph lengths. It was all excellent practice. + +And yet this technique, absorbing as it was, counted as nothing in +comparison with the subject-matter. + +The method was talent; the subject-matter was Genius; and Genius had +evolved an Idea which no one had ever thought of before--something +brand new under the sun. It goes without saying that the Idea +symbolized a great Truth. One department, the more impersonal, of +Bennington's critical faculty, assured him that the Idea would take +rank with the Ideas of Plato and Emerson. Emerson, Bennington +worshipped. Plato he also worshipped--because Emerson told him to. He +had never read Plato himself. The other, the more personal and modest, +however, had perforce to doubt this, not because it doubted the Idea, +but because Bennington was not naturally conceited. + +To settle the discrepancy he began to write. He laid the scene in +Arabia and decided to call it _Aliris: A Romance of all Time_, because +he liked the smooth, easy flow of the syllables. + +The consciousness that he could do all this sugar-coated his Wild +Western experiences, which otherwise might have been a little +disagreeable. He could comfort himself with the reflection that he was +superior, if ridiculous. + +In spots, he was certainly the latter. The locality into which his +destinies had led him lay in the tumultuous centre of the Hills, about +thirty miles from Custer and ten from Hill City. Spanish Gulch was +three miles down the draw. The Holy Smoke mine, to which Bennington was +accredited, he found to consist of a hole in the ground, of unsounded +depth, two log structures, and a chicken coop. The log structures +resembled those he had read about. In one of them lived Arthur and his +wife. The wife did the cooking. Arthur did nothing at all but sit in +the shade and smoke a pipe, and this in spite of the fact that he did +not look like a loafer. He had no official connection with the place, +except that of husband to Mrs. Arthur. The other member of the +community was Davidson, alias Old Mizzou. + +The latter was cordial and voluble. As he was blessed with a long white +beard of the patriarchal type, he inspired confidence. He used +exclusively the present tense and chewed tobacco. He also played +interminable cribbage. Likewise he talked. The latter was his strong +point. Bennington found that within two days of his arrival he knew all +about the company's business without having proved the necessity of +stirring foot on his own behalf. The claims were not worth much, +according to Old Mizzou. The company had been cheated. They would find +it out some day. None of the ore assayed very high. For his part he did +not see why they even did assessment work. Bennington was to look after +the latter? All in good time. You know you had until the end of the +year to do it. What else was there to do? Nothing much; The present +holders had come into the property on a foreclosed mortgage, and +weren't doing anything to develop it yet. Did Bennington know of their +plans? No? Well, it looked as though the two of them were to have a +pretty easy time of it, didn't it? + +Old Mizzou tried, by adroit questioning, to find out just why de Laney +had been sent West. There was, in reality, not enough to keep one man +busy, and surely Old Mizzou considered himself quite competent to +attend to that. Finally, he concluded that it must be to watch +him--Old Mizzou. Acting on that supposition, he tried a new tack. + +For two delicious hours he showed up, to his own satisfaction, +Bennington's ignorance of mining. That was an easy enough task. +Bennington did not even know what country-rock was. All he succeeded in +eliciting confirmed him in the impression that de Laney was sent to spy +on him. But why de Laney? Old Mizzou wagged his gray beard. And why spy +on him? What could the company want to know? He gave it up. One thing +alone was clear: this young man's understanding of his duties was very +simple. Bennington imagined he was expected to see certain assessment +work done (whatever that was), and was to find out what he could about +the value of the property. + +As a matter of sedulously concealed truth, he was really expected to do +nothing at all. The place had been made for him through Mr. de Laney's +influence, because he wanted to go West. + +"Now, my boy," Bishop, the mining capitalist, had said, when +Bennington had visited him in his New York office, "do you know +anything about mining?" + +"No, sir," Bennington replied. + +"Well, that doesn't matter much. We don't expect to do anything in the +way of development. The case, briefly, is this: We've bought this +busted proposition of the people who were handling it, and have assumed +their debt. They didn't run it right. They had a sort of a wildcat +individual in charge of the thing, and he got contracts for sinking +shafts with all the turtlebacks out there, and then didn't pay for +them. Now, what we want you to do is this: First of all, you're to take +charge financially at that end of the line. That means paying the local +debts as we send you the money, and looking after whatever expenditures +may become necessary. Then you'll have to attend to the assessment +work. Do you know what assessment work is?" + +"No, sir." + +"Well, in order to hold the various claims legally, the owners have to +do one hundred dollars' worth of work a year on each claim. If the +work isn't done, the claims can be 'jumped.' You'll have to hire the +men, buy the supplies, and see that the full amount is done. We have a +man out there named Davidson. You can rely on him, and he'll help you +out in all practical matters. He's a good enough practical miner, but +he's useless in bossing a job or handling money. Between you, you ought +to get along." + +"I'll try, anyway." + +"That's right. Then, another thing. You can put in your spare time +investigating what the thing is worth. I don't expect much from you in +that respect, for you haven't had enough experience; but do the best +you can. It'll be good practice, anyway. Hunt up Davidson; go over all +the claims; find out how the lead runs, and how it holds out; get +samples and ship them to me; investigate everything you can, and don't +be afraid to write when you're stuck." + +In other words, Bennington was to hold the ends of the reins while some +one else drove. But he did not know that. He felt his responsibility. + +As to the assessment work, Old Mizzou had already assured him there was +no immediate hurry; men were cheaper in the fall. As to investigating, +he started in on that at once. He and Davidson climbed down shafts, and +broke off ore, and worked the gold pan. It was fun. + +In the morning Bennington decided to work from seven until ten on +_Aliris_. Then for three hours he and Old Mizzou prospected. In the +afternoon the young man took a vacation and hunted Wild Western +adventures. + +It may as well be remarked here that Bennington knew all about the West +before he left home. Until this excursion he had never even crossed the +Alleghanies, but he thought he appreciated the conditions thoroughly. +This was because he was young. He could close his eyes and see the +cowboys scouring the plain. As a parenthesis it should be noted that +cowboys always scour the plain, just as sailors always scan the +horizon. He knew how the cowboys looked, because he had seen Buffalo +Bill's show; and he knew how they talked, because he had read accurate +authors of the school of Bret Harte. He could even imagine the +romantic mountain maidens. + +With his preconceived notions the country, in most particulars, tallied +interestingly. At first Bennington frequented the little town down the +draw. It answered fairly well to the story-book descriptions, but +proved a bit lively for him. The first day they lent him a horse. The +horse looked sleepy. It took him twenty minutes to get on the animal +and twenty seconds to fall off. There was an audience. They made him +purchase strange drinks at outlandish prices. After that they shot +holes all around his feet to induce him to dance. He had inherited an +obstinate streak from some of his forebears, and declined when it went +that far. They then did other things to him which were not pleasant. +Most of these pranks seemed to have been instigated by a laughing, +curly-haired young man named Fay. Fay had clear blue eyes, which seemed +always to mock you. He could think up more diabolical schemes in ten +minutes than the rest of the men in as many hours. Bennington came +shortly to hate this man Fay. His attentions had so much of the +gratuitous! For a number of days, even after the enjoyment of novelty +had worn off, the Easterner returned bravely to Spanish Gulch every +afternoon for the mail. It was a matter of pride with him. He did not +like to be bluffed out. But Fay was always there. + +"Tender _foot!_" the latter would shriek joyously, and bear down on the +shrinking de Laney. + +That would bring out the loafers. It all had to happen over again. + +Bennington hoped that this performance would cease in time. It never +did. + +By a mental process, unnecessary to trace here, he modified his first +views, and permitted Old Mizzou to get the mail. Spanish Gulch saw him +no more. + +After all, it was quite as good Western experience to wander in the +hills. He did not regret the other. In fact, as he cast in review his +research in Wild West literature, he perceived that the incidents of +his town visits were the proper thing. He would not have had them +different--to look back on. They were inspiring--to write home about. +He recognised all the types--the miner, the gambler, the +saloon-keeper, the bad man, the cowboy, the prospector--just as though +they had stepped living from the pages of his classics. They had the +true slouch; they used the picturesque language. The log cabins squared +with his ideas. The broncos even exceeded them. + +But now he had seen it all. There is no sense in draining an agreeable +cup to satiety. He was quite content to enjoy his rambles in the hills, +like the healthy youngster he was. But had he seen it all? On +reflection, he acknowledged he could not make this statement to himself +with a full consciousness of sincerity. One thing was lacking from the +preconceived picture his imagination had drawn. There had been no +Mountain Flowers. By that he meant girls. + +Every one knows what a Western girl is. She is a beautiful creature, +always, with clear, tanned skin, bright eyes, and curly hair. She wears +a Tam o' Shanter. She rides a horse. Also, she talks deliciously, in a +silver voice, about "old pards." Altogether a charming vision--in +books. + +This vision Bennington had not yet realized. The rest of the West came +up to specifications, but this one essential failed. In Spanish Gulch +he had, to be sure, encountered a number of girls. But they were +red-handed, big-boned, freckled-faced, rough-skinned, and there wasn't +a Tam o' Shanter in the lot. Plainly servants, Bennington thought. The +Mountain Flower must have gone on a visit. Come to think of it, there +never was more than one Mountain Flower to a town. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +BENNINGTON HUNTS FOR GOLD AND FINDS A KISS + + +One day Old Mizzou brought him a blue-print map. + +"This y'ar map," said he, spreading it out under his stubby fingers, +"shows the deestrict. I gets it of Fay, so you gains an idee of th' lay +of the land a whole lot. Them claims marked with a crost belongs to th' +Company. You kin take her and explore." + +This struck Bennington as an excellent idea. He sat down at the table +and counted the crosses. There were fourteen of them. The different +lodes were laid off in mathematically exact rectangles, running in many +directions. A few joined one another, but most lay isolated. Their +relative positions were a trifle confusing at first, but, after a +little earnest study, Bennington thought he understood them. He could +start with the Holy Smoke, just outside the door. The John Logan lay +beyond, at an obtuse angle. Then a jump of a hundred yards or so to the +southwest would bring him to the Crazy Horse. This he resolved to +locate, for it was said to be on the same "lode" as a big strike some +one had recently made. He picked up his rifle and set out. + +Now, a blue-print map maker has undoubtedly accurate ideas as to points +of the compass, and faultless proficiency in depicting bird's-eye +views, but he neglects entirely the putting in of various ups and down, +slants and windings of the country, which apparently twist the north +pole around to the east-south-east. You start due west on a bee line, +according to directions; after about ten feet you scramble over a +fallen tree, skirt a boulder, dip into a ravine, and climb a ledge. +Your starting point is out of sight behind you; your destination is, +Heaven knows where, in front. By the time you have walked six thousand +actual feet, which is as near as you can guess to fifteen hundred +theoretical level ones, your little blazed stake in a pile of stones is +likely to be almost anywhere within a liberal quarter of a mile. Then +it is guess-work. If the hill is pretty thickly staked out, the chase +becomes exciting. In the middle distance you see a post. You clamber +eagerly to it, only to find that it marks your neighbour's claim. You +have lost your standpoint of a moment ago, and must start afresh. In an +hour's time you have discovered every stake on the hill but the one you +want. In two hours' time you are staggering homeward a gibbering idiot. +Then you are brought back to profane sanity by falling at full length +over the very object of your search. + +Bennington was treated to full measure of this experience. He found the +John Logan lode without much difficulty, and followed its length with +less, for the simple reason that its course lay over the round brow of +a hill bare of trees. He also discovered the "Northeast Corner of the +Crazy Horse Lode" plainly marked on the white surface of a pine stake +braced upright in a pile of rocks. Thence he confidently paced south, +and found nothing. Next trip he came across pencilled directions +concerning the "Miner's Dream Lode." The time after he ran against the +"Golden Ball" and the "Golden Chain Lodes." Bennington reflected; his +mind was becoming a little heated. + +"It's because I went around those ledges and boulders," he said to +himself; "I got off the straight line. This time I'll take the straight +line and keep it." + +So he addressed himself to the surmounting of obstructions. Work of +that sort is not easy. At one point he lost his hold on a broad, steep +rock, and slid ungracefully to the foot of it, his elbows digging +frantically into the moss, and his legs straddled apart. As he struck +bottom, he imagined he heard a most delicious little laugh. So real was +the illusion that he gripped two handfuls of moss and looked about +sharply, but of course saw nothing. The laugh was repeated. + +He looked again, and so became aware of a Vision in pink, standing just +in front of a big pine above him on the hill and surveying him with +mischievous eyes. + +Surprise froze him, his legs straddled, his hat on one side, his mouth +open. The Vision began to pick its way down the hill, eyeing him the +while. + +That dancing scrutiny seemed to mesmerize him. He was enchanted to +perfect stillness, but he was graciously permitted to take in the +particulars of the girl's appearance. She was dainty. Every posture of +her slight figure was of an airy grace, as light and delicate as that +of a rose tendril swaying in the wind. Even when she tripped over a +loose rock, she caught her balance again with a pretty little uplift of +the hand. As she approached, slowly, and evidently not unwilling to +allow her charms full time in which to work, Bennington could see that +her face was delicately made; but as to the details he could not judge +clearly because of her mischievous eyes. They were large and wide and +clear, and of a most peculiar colour--a purple-violet, of the shade one +sometimes finds in flowers, but only in the flowers of a deep and shady +wood. In this wonderful colour--which seemed to borrow the richness of +its hue rather from its depth than from any pigment of its own, just as +beyond soundings the ocean changes from green to blue--an hundred moods +seem to rise slowly from within, to swim visible, even though the mere +expression of her face gave no sign of them. For instance, at the +present moment her features were composed to the utmost gravity. Yet in +her eyes bubbled gaiety and fun, as successive up-swellings of a +spring; or, rather, as the riffles of sunlight and wind, or the +pictured flight of birds across a pool whose surface alone is stirred. + +Bennington realized suddenly, with overwhelming fervency, that he +preferred to slide in solitude. + +The Vision in the starched pink gingham now poised above him like a +humming-bird over a flower. From behind her back she withdrew one hand. +In the hand was the missing claim stake. + +"Is this what you are looking for?" she inquired demurely. + +The mesmeric spell broke, and Bennington was permitted to babble +incoherencies. + +She stamped her foot. + +"Is this what you're looking for?" she persisted. + +Bennington's chaos had not yet crystallized to relevancy. + +"Wh-where did you get it?" he stammered again. + +"IS THIS WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR?" she demanded in very large capitals. + +The young man regained control of his faculties with an effort. + +"Yes, it is!" he rejoined sharply; and then, with the instinct that +bids us appreciate the extent of our relief by passing an annoyance +along, "Don't you know it's a penal offence to disturb claim stakes?" + +He had suddenly discovered that he preferred to find claim stakes on +claims. + +The Vision's eyes opened wider. + +"It must be nice to know so much!" said she, in reverent admiration. + +Bennington flushed. As a de Laney, the girls he had known had always +taken him seriously. He disliked being made fun of. + +"This is nonsense," he objected, with some impatience. "I must know +where it came from." + +In the background of his consciousness still whirled the moil of his +wonder and bewilderment. He clung to the claim stake as a stable +object. + +The Vision looked straight at him without winking, and those wonderful +eyes filled with tears. Yet underneath their mist seemed to sparkle +little points of light, as wavelets through a vapour which veils the +surface of the sea. Bennington became conscious-stricken because of the +tears, and still he owned an uneasy suspicion that they were not real. + +"I'm so sorry!" she said contritely, after a moment; "I thought I was +helping you so much! I found that stake just streaking it over the top +of the hill. It had got loose and was running away." The mist had +cleared up very suddenly, and the light-tipped sparkles of fun were +chasing each other rapidly, as though impelled by a lively breeze. "I +thought you'd be ever so grateful, and, instead of that, you scold me! +I don't believe I like you a bit!" + +She looked him over reflectively, as though making up her mind. + +Bennington laughed outright, and scrambled to his feet. "You are +absolutely incorrigible!" he exclaimed, to cover his confusion at his +change of face. + +Her eyes fairly danced. + +"Oh, what a _lovely_ word!" she cried rapturously. "What _does_ it +mean? Something nice, or I'm sure you wouldn't have said it about me. +_Would_ you?" The eyes suddenly became grave. "Oh, please tell me!" she +begged appealingly. + +Bennington was thrown into confusion at this, for he did not know +whether she was serious or not. He could do nothing but stammer and get +red, and think what a ridiculous ass he was making of himself. He might +have considered the help he was getting in that. + +"Well, then, you needn't," she conceded, magnanimously, after a moment. +"Only, you ought not to say things about girls that you don't dare tell +them in plain language. If you will say nice things about me, you might +as well say them so I can understand them; only, I do think it's a +little early in our acquaintance." + +This cast Bennington still more in perplexity. He had a +pretty-well-defined notion that he was being ridiculed, but concerning +this, just a last grain of doubt remained. She rattled on. + +"Well!" said she impatiently, "why don't you say something? Why don't +you take this stick? I don't want it. Men are so stupid!" + +That last remark has been made many, many times, and yet it never fails +of its effect, which is at once to invest the speaker with daintiness +indescribable, and to thrust the man addressed into nether inferiority. +Bennington fell to its charm. He took the stake. + +"Where does it belong?" he asked. + +She pointed silently to a pile of stones. He deposited the stake in its +proper place, and returned to find her seated on the ground, plucking a +handful of the leaves of a little erect herb that grew abundantly in +the hollow. These she rubbed together and held to her face inside the +sunbonnet. + +"Who are you, anyway?" asked Bennington abruptly, as he returned. + +"D' you ever see this before?" she inquired irrelevantly, looking up +with her eyes as she leaned over the handful. "Good for colds. Makes +your nose feel all funny and prickly." + +She turned her hands over and began to drop the leaves one by one. +Bennington caught himself watching her with fascinated interest in +silence. He began to find this one of her most potent charms--the +faculty of translating into a grace so exquisite as almost to realize +the fabled poetry of motion, the least shrug of her shoulders, the +smallest crook of her finger, the slightest toss of her small, +well-balanced head. She looked up. + +"Want to smell?" she inquired, and held out her hands with a pretty +gesture. + +Not knowing what else to do, Bennington stepped forward obediently and +stooped over. The two little palms held a single crushed bit of the +herb in their cup. They were soft, pink little palms, all wrinkled, +like crumpled rose leaves. Bennington stooped to smell the herb; +instead, he kissed the palms. + +The girl sprang to her feet with one indignant motion and faced him. +The eyes now flashed blue flame, and Bennington for the first time +noticed what had escaped him before--that the forehead was broad and +thoughtful, and that above it the hair, instead of being blonde and +curly and sparkling with golden radiance, was of a peculiar wavy brown +that seemed sometimes full of light and sometimes lustreless and black, +according as it caught the direct rays of the sun or not. Then he +appreciated his offence. + +"Sir!" she exclaimed, and turned away with a haughty shoulder. + +"And we've never been introduced!" she said, half to herself, but her +face was now concealed, so that Bennington could not see she laughed. +She marched stiffly down the hill. Bennington turned to follow her, +although the action was entirely mechanical, and he had no definite +idea in doing so. + +"Don't you dare, sir!" she cried. + +So he did not dare. + +This vexed her for a moment. Then, having gone quite out of sight, she +sank down and laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks. + +"I didn't think he knew enough!" she said, with a final hysterical +chuckle. + +This first impression of the Mountain Flower, Bennington would have +been willing to acknowledge, was quite complicated enough, but he was +destined to further surprises. + +When he returned to the Holy Smoke camp he found Old Mizzou in earnest +conversation with a peculiar-looking stranger, whose hand he was +promptly requested to shake. + +The stranger was a tall, scraggly individual, dressed in the usual +flannel shirt and blue jeans, the latter tucked into rusty cowhide +boots. Bennington was interested in him because he was so phenomenally +ugly. From the collar of his shirt projected a lean, sinewy neck, on +which the too-abundant skin rolled and wrinkled in a dark red, +wind-roughened manner particularly disagreeable to behold. The neck +supported a small head. The face was wizened and tanned to a dark +mahogany colour. It was ornamented with a grizzled goatee. + +The man smoked a stub pipe. His remarks were emphasized by the gestures +of a huge and gnarled pair of hands. + +"Mr. Lawton is from Old Mizzou, too, afore he moved to Illinoy," +commented Davidson. One became aware, from the loving tones in which +he pronounced the two words, whence he derived his sobriquet. + +Lawton expressed the opinion that Chillicothe, of that State, was the +finest town on top of earth. + +Bennington presumed it might be, and then opportunely bethought him of +a bottle of Canadian Club, which, among other necessary articles, he +had brought with him from New York. This he produced. The old +Missourians brightened; Davidson went into the cabin after glasses and +a corkscrew. He found the corkscrew all right, but apparently had some +difficulty in regard to the glasses. They could hear him calling +vociferously for Mrs. Arthur. Mrs. Arthur had gone to the spring for +water. In a few moments Old Mizzou appeared in the doorway exceedingly +red of face. + +"Consarn them women folks!" he grumbled, depositing the tin cups on the +porch. "They locks up an' conceals things most damnable. Ain't a +tumbler in th' place." + +"These yar is all right," assured Lawton consolingly, picking up one of +the cups and examining the bottom of it with great care. + +"I reckon they'll hold the likker, anyhow," agreed Davidson. + +They passed the bottle politely to de Laney, and the latter helped +himself. For his part, he was glad the tin cups had been necessary, for +it enabled him to conceal the smallness of his dose. Lawton filled his +own up to the brim; Davidson followed suit. + +"Here's how!" observed the latter, and the two old turtlebacks drank +the raw whisky down, near a half pint of it, as though it had been so +much milk. + +Bennington fairly gasped with astonishment. "Don't you ever take any +water?" he asked. + +They turned slowly. Old Mizzou looked him in the eye with glimmering +reproach. + +"Not, if th' whisky's good, sonny," said he impressively. + +"Wall," commented Lawton, after a pause, "that is a good drink. Reckon +I must be goin'." + +"Stay t' grub!" urged Old Mizzou heartily. + +"Folks waitin'. Remember!" + +They looked at Bennington and chuckled a little, to that young man's +discomfort. + +"Lawton's a damn fine fella'," said Old Mizzou with emphasis. +Bennington thought, with a shudder, of the loose-skinned, turkey-red +neck, and was silent. + +After supper Bennington and Old Mizzou played cribbage by the light of +a kerosene lamp. + +"While I was hunting claims this afternoon," said the Easterner +suddenly, "I ran across a mighty pretty girl." + +"Yas?" observed Old Mizzou with indifference. "What fer a gal was it?" + +"She didn't look as if she belonged around here. She was a slender +girl, very pretty, with a pink dress on." + +"Ain't no female strangers yar-abouts. Blue eyes?" + +"Yes." + +"An' ha'r that sometimes looks black an' sometimes yaller-brown?" + +"Yes, that's the one all right. Who is she?" + +"Oh, that!" said Old Mizzou with slight interest, "that's Bill +Lawton's girl. Live's down th' gulch. He's th' fella' that was yar +afore grub," he explained. + +For a full minute Bennington stared at the cards in his hand. The +patriarch became impatient. + +"Yore play, sonny," he suggested. + +"I don't believe you know the one I mean," returned Bennington slowly. +"She's a girl with a little mouth and a nose that is tipped up just a +trifle----" + +"Snub!" interrupted Old Mizzou, with some impatience. "Yas, I knows. +Same critter. Only one like her in th' Hills. Sasshays all over th' +scenery, an' don't do nothin' but sit on rocks." + +"So she's the daughter of that man!" said Bennington, still more +slowly. + +"Wall, so Mis' Lawton sez," chuckled Mizzou. + +That night Bennington lay awake for some time. He had discovered the +Mountain Flower; the story-book West was complete at last. But he had +offended his discovery. What was the etiquette in such a case? Back +East he would have felt called upon to apologize for being rude. Then, +at the thought of apologizing to a daughter of that turkey-necked old +whisky-guzzler he had to laugh. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE SUN FAIRY + + +The next afternoon, after the day's writing and prospecting were +finished, Bennington resolved to go deer hunting. He had skipped +thirteen chapters of his work to describe the heroine, Rhoda. She had +wonderful eyes, and was, I believe, dressed in a garment whose colour +was pink. + +"Keep yore moccasins greased," Old Mizzou advised at parting; by which +he meant that the young man was to step softly. + +This he found to be difficult. His course lay along the top of the +ridge where the obstructions were many. There were outcrops, boulders, +ravines, broken twigs, old leaves, and dikes, all of which had to be +surmounted or avoided. They were all aggravating, but the dikes +possessed some intellectual interest which the others lacked. + +A dike, be it understood, is a hole in the earth made visible. That is +to say, in old days, when mountains were much loftier than they are +now, various agencies brought it to pass that they split and cracked +and yawned down to the innermost cores of their being in such hideous +fashion that chasms and holes of great depth and perpendicularity were +opened in them. Thereupon the interior fires were released, and these, +vomiting up a vast supply of molten material, filled said chasms and +holes to the very brim. The molten material cooled into fire-hardened +rock. The rains descended and the snows melted. Under their erosive +influence the original mountains were cut down somewhat, but the +erstwhile molten material, being, as we have said, fire-hardened, +wasted very little, or not at all, and, as a consequence, stands forth +above its present surroundings in exact mould of the ancient cracks or +holes. + +Now, some dikes are long and narrow, others are short and wide, and +still others are nearly round. All, however, are highest points, and, +head and shoulders above the trees, look abroad over the land. + +When Bennington came to one of these dikes he was forced to pick his +way carefully in a detour around its base. Between times he found +hobnails much inclined to click against unforeseen stones. The broken +twig came to possess other than literary importance. After a little his +nerves asserted themselves. Unconsciously he relaxed his attention and +began to think. + +The subject of his thoughts was the girl he had seen just twenty-four +hours before. He caught himself remembering little things he had not +consciously noticed at the time, as, for instance, the strange contrast +between the mischief in her eyes and the austerity of her brow, or the +queer little fashion she had of winking rapidly four or five times, and +then opening her eyes wide and looking straight into the depths of his +own. He considered it quite a coincidence that he had unconsciously +returned to the spot on which they had met the day before--the rich +Crazy Horse lode. + +As though in answer to his recognition of this fact, her voice suddenly +called to him from above. + +"Hullo, little boy!" it cried. + +He felt at once that he was pleased at the encounter. + +"Hullo!" he answered; "where are you?" + +"Right here." + +He looked up, and then still up, until, at the flat top of the +castellated dike that stood over him, he caught a gleam of pink. The +contrast between it, the blue of the sky, and the dark green of the +trees, was most beautiful and unusual. Nature rarely uses pink, except +in sunsets and in flowers. Bennington thought pleasedly how every +impression this girl made upon him was one of grace or beauty or bright +colour. The gleam of pink disappeared, and a great pine cone, heavy +with pitch, came buzzing through the air to fall at his feet. + +"That's to show you where I am," came the clear voice. "You ought to +feel honoured. I've only three cones left." + +The dike before which Bennington had paused was one of the round +variety. It rose perhaps twenty feet above the _débris_ at its base, +sheer, gray, its surface almost intact except for an insignificant +number of frost fissures. From its base the hill fell rapidly, so that, +even from his own inferior elevation, he was enabled to look over the +tops of trees standing but a few rods away from him. He could see that +the summit of this dike was probably nearly flat, and he surmised that, +once up there, one would become master of a pretty enough little +plateau on which to sit; but his careful circumvallation could discover +no possible method of ascent. The walls afforded no chance for a +squirrel's foothold even. He began to doubt whether he had guessed +aright as to the girl's whereabouts, and began carefully to examine the +tops of the trees. Discovering nothing in them, he cast another puzzled +glance at the top of the dike. A pair of violet eyes was scrutinizing +him gravely over the edge of it. + +"How in the world did you get up there?" he cried. + +"Flew," she explained, with great succinctness. + +"Look out you don't fall," he warned hastily; her attitude was +alarming. + +"I am lying flat," said she, "and I can't fall." + +"You haven't told me how you got up. I want to come up, too." + +"How do you know I want you?" + +"I have such a lot of things to say!" cried Bennington, rather at a +loss for a valid reason, but feeling the necessity keenly. + +"Well, sit down and say them. There's a big flat rock just behind you." + +This did not suit him in the least. "I wish you'd let me up," he begged +petulantly. "I can't say what I want from here." + +"I can hear you quite well. You'll have to talk from there, or else +keep still." + +"That isn't fair!" persisted the young man, adopting a tone of +argument. "You're a girl----" + +"Stop there! You are wrong to start with. Did you think that a creature +who could fly to the tops of the rocks was a mere girl? Not at all." + +"What do you mean?" asked the easily bewildered Bennington. + +"What I say. I'm not a girl." + +"What are you then?" + +"A sun fairy." + +"A sun fairy?" + +"Yes; a real live one. See that cloud over toward the sun? The nice +downy one, I mean. That's my couch. I sleep on it all night. I've got +it near the sun so that it will warm up, you see." + +"I see," cried Bennington. He could recognise foolery--provided it were +ticketed plainly enough. He sat down on the flat rock before indicated, +and clasped his knee with his hands, prepared to enjoy more. "Is that +your throne up there, Sun Fairy?" he asked. She had withdrawn her head +from sight. + +"It is," her voice came down to him in grave tones. + +"It must be a very nice one." + +"The nicest throne you ever saw." + +"I never saw one, but I've often heard that thrones were unpleasant +things." + +"I am sitting, foolish mortal," said she, in tones of deep +commiseration, "on a soft, thick cushion of moss--much more +comfortable, I imagine, than hard, flat rocks. And the nice warm sun +is shining on me--it must be rather chilly in the woods to-day. And +there is a breeze blowing from the Big Horn--old rocks are always damp +and stuffy in the shade. And I am looking away out over the Hills--I +hope some people enjoy the sight of piles of quartzite." + +"Cruel sun fairy!" cried Bennington. "Why do you tantalize me so with +the delights from which you debar me? What have I done?" + +There was a short silence. + +"Can't you think of anything you've done?" asked the voice, +insinuatingly. + +Bennington's conscience-stricken memory stirred. It did not seem so +ridiculous, under the direct charm of the fresh young voice that came +down through the summer air from above, like a dove's note from a +treetop, to apologize to Lawton's girl. The incongruity now was in +forcing into this Arcadian incident anything savouring of +conventionality at all. It had been so idyllic, this talk of the sun +fairy and the cloud; so like a passage from an old book of legends, +this dainty episode in the great, strong, Western breezes, under the +great, strong, Western sky. Everything should be perfect, not to be +blamed. + +"Do sun fairies accept apologies?" he asked presently, in a subdued +voice. + +"They might." + +"This particular sun fairy is offered one by a man who is sorry." + +"Is it a good big one?" + +"Indeed, yes." + +The head appeared over the edge of the rock, inspected him gravely for +a moment, and was withdrawn. + +"Then it is accepted," said the voice. + +"Thank you!" he replied sincerely. "And now are you going to let down +your rope ladder, or whatever it is? I really want to talk to you." + +"You are so persistent!" cried the petulant voice, "and so foolish! It +is like a man to spoil things by questionings!" + +He suddenly felt the truth of this. One can not talk every day to a sun +fairy, and the experience can never be repeated. He settled back on the +rock. + +"Pardon me, Sun Fairy!" he cried again. "Rope ladders, indeed, to one +who has but to close her eyes and she finds herself on a downy cloud +near the sun. My mortality blinded me!" + +"Now you are a nice boy," she approved more contentedly, "and as a +reward you may ask me one question." + +"All right," he agreed; and then, with instinctive tact, "What do you +see up there?" + +He could hear her clap her hands with delight, and he felt glad that he +had followed his impulse to ask just this question instead of one more +personal and more in line with his curiosity. + +"Listen!" she began. "I see pines, many pines, just the tops of them, +and they are all waving in the breeze. Did you ever see trees from on +top? They are quite different. And out from the pines come great round +hills made all of stone. I think they look like skulls. Then there are +breathless descents where the pines fall away. Once in a while a little +white road flashes out." + +"Yes," urged Bennington, as the voice paused. "And what else do you +see?" + +"I see the prairie, too," she went on half dreamily. "It is brown now, +but the green is beginning to shine through it just a very little. And +out beyond there is a sparkle. That is the Cheyenne. And beyond that +there is something white, and that is the Bad Lands." + +The voice broke off with a happy little laugh. + +Bennington saw the scene as though it lay actually spread out before +him. There was something in the choice of the words, clearcut, +decisive, and descriptive; but more in the exquisite modulations of the +voice, adding here a tint, there a shade to the picture, and casting +over the whole that poetic glamour which, rarely, is imitated in +grosser materials by Nature herself, when, just following sunset, she +suffuses the landscape with a mellow afterglow. + +The head, sunbonneted, reappeared perked inquiringly sideways. + +"Hello, stranger!" it called with a nasal inflection, "how air ye? Do +y' think minin' is goin' t' pan out well this yar spring?" Then she +caught sight of his weapon. "What are you going to shoot?" she asked +with sudden interest. + +"I thought I might see a deer." + +"Deer! hoh!" she cried in lofty scorn, reassuming her nasal tone. "You +is shore a tenderfoot! Don' you-all know that blastin' scares all th' +deer away from a minin' camp?" + +Bennington looked confused. "No, I hadn't thought of that," he +confessed stoutly enough. + +"I kind of like to shoot!" said she, a little wistfully. "What sort of +a gun is it?" + +"A Savage smokeless," answered Bennington perfunctorily. + +"One of the thirty-calibres?" inquired the sunbonnet with new interest. + +"Yes," gasped Bennington, astonished at so much feminine knowledge of +firearms. + +"Oh! I'd like to see it. I never saw any of those. May I shoot it, just +once?" + +"Of course you may. More than once. Shall I come up?" + +"No. I'll come down. You sit right still on that rock." + +The sunbonnet disappeared, and there ensued a momentary commotion on +the other side of the dike. In an instant the girl came around the +corner, picking her way over the loose blocks of stone. With the +finger-tips of either hand she held the pink starched skirt up, +displaying a neat little foot in a heavy little shoe. Diagonally across +the skirt ran two irregular brown stains. She caught him looking at +them. + +"Naughty, naughty!" said she, glancing down at them with a grimace. + +She dropped her skirt, and stood up beside him with a pretty shake of +the shoulders. + +"Now let's see it," she begged. + +She examined the weapon with much interest, throwing down and back the +lever in a manner that showed she was accustomed at least to the +old-style arm. + +"How light it is!" she commented, squinting through the sights. +"Doesn't it kick awfully?" + +"Not a bit. Smokeless powder, you know." + +"Of course. What'll we shoot at?" + +Bennington fumbled in his pockets and produced an envelope. + +"How's this?" he asked. + +She seized it and ran like an antelope--with the same _gliding_ +motion--to a tree about thirty paces distant, on which she pinned the +bit of paper. They shot. Bennington hit the paper every time. The girl +missed it once. At this she looked a little vexed. + +"You are either very rude or very sincere," was her comment. + +"You're the best shot I ever saw----" + +"Now don't dare say 'for a girl!'" she interrupted quickly. "What's the +prize?" + +"Was this a match?" + +"Of course it was, and I insist on paying up." + +Bennington considered. + +"I think I would like to go to the top of the rock there, and see the +pines, and the skull-stones, and the prairies." + +She glanced toward him, knitting her brows. "It is my very own," she +said doubtfully. "I've never let anybody go up there before." + +One of the diminutive chipmunks of the hills scampered out from a cleft +in the rocks and perched on a moss-covered log, chattering eagerly and +jerking his tail in the well-known manner of chipmunks. + +"Oh, see! see!" she cried, all excitement in a moment. She seized the +rifle, and taking careful aim, fired. The chattering ceased; the +chipmunk disappeared. + +Bennington ran to the log. Behind it lay the little animal. The long +steel-jacketed bullet had just grazed the base of its brain. He picked +it up gently in the palm of his hand and contemplated it. + +It was such a diminutive beast, not as large as a good-sized rat, quite +smaller than our own fence-corner chipmunks of the East. It's little +sides were daintily striped, its little whiskers were as perfect as +those of the great squirrels in the timber bottom. In its pouches were +the roots of pine cones. Bennington was not a sentimentalist, but the +incident, against the background of the light-hearted day, seemed to +him just a little pathetic. Something of the feeling showed in his +eyes. + +The girl, who had drawn near, looked from him to the dead chipmunk, and +back again. Then she burst suddenly into tears. + +"Oh, cruel, cruel!" she sobbed. "What did I do it for? What did you +_let_ me do it for?" + +Her distress was so keen that the young man hastened to relieve it. + +"There," he reassured her lightly, "don't do that! Why, you are a great +hunter. You got your game. And it was a splendid shot. We'll have him +skinned when we get back home, and we'll cure the skin, and you can +make something out of it--a spectacle case," he suggested at random. "I +know how you feel," he went on, to give her time to recover, "but all +hunters feel that way occasionally. See, I'll put him just here until +we get ready to go home, where nothing can get him." + +He deposited the squirrel in the cleft of a rock, quite out of sight, +and stood back as though pleased. "There, that's fine!" he concluded. + +With one of those instantaneous transitions, which seemed so natural to +her, and yet which appeared to reach not at all to her real nature, she +had changed from an aspect of passionate grief to one of solemn +inquiry. Bennington found her looking at him with the soul brimming to +the very surface of her great eyes. + +"I think you may come up on my rock," she said simply after a moment. + +They skirted the base of the dike together until they had reached the +westernmost side. There Bennington was shown the means of ascent, which +he had overlooked before because of his too close examination of the +cliff itself. At a distance of about twenty feet from the dike grew a +large pine tree, the lowest branch of which extended directly over the +little plateau and about a foot above it. Next to the large pine stood +two smaller saplings side by side and a few inches apart. These had +been converted into a ladder by the nailing across of rustic rounds. + +"That's how I get up," explained the girl. "Now you go back around the +corner again, and when I'm ready I'll call." + +Bennington obeyed. In a few moments he heard again the voice in the air +summoning him to approach and climb. + +He ascended the natural ladder easily, but when within six or eight +feet of the large branch that reached across to the dike, the smaller +of the two saplings ceased, and so, naturally, the ladder terminated. + +"Hi!" he called, "how did you get up this?" + +He looked across the intervening space expectantly, and then, to his +surprise, he observed that the girl was blushing furiously. + +"I--I," stammered a small voice after a moment's hesitation, "I guess +I--_shinned_!" + +A light broke across Bennington's mind as to the origin of the two dark +streaks on the gown, and he laughed. The girl eyed him reproachfully +for a moment or so; then she too began to laugh in an embarrassed +manner. Whereupon Bennington laughed the harder. He shinned up the +tree, to find that an ingenious hand rope had been fitted above the +bridge limb, so that the crossing of the short interval to the rock was +a matter of no great difficulty. In another instant he stood upon the +top of the dike. + +It was, as he had anticipated, nearly flat. Under the pine branch, +which might make a very good chair back, grew a thick cushion of moss. +The one tree broke the freedom of the eye's sweep toward the west, but +in all other directions it was uninterrupted. As the girl had said, the +tops of pines alone met the view, miles on miles of them, undulating, +rising, swelling, breaking against the barrier of a dike, or lapping +the foot of a great round boulder-mountain. Here and there a darker +spot suggested a break for a mountain peak; rarely a fleck of white +marked a mountain road. Back of them all--ridge, mountain, cavernous +valley--towered old Harney, sun-browned, rock-diademed, a few wisps of +cloud streaming down the wind from his brow, locks heavy with the age +of the great Manitou whom he was supposed to represent. Eastward, the +prairie like a peaceful sea. Above, the alert sky of the west. And +through all the air a humming--vast, murmurous, swelling--as the +mountain breeze touched simultaneously with strong hand the chords, not +of one, but a thousand pine harps. + +Bennington drew in a deep breath, and looked about in all directions. +The girl watched him. + +"Ah! it is beautiful!" he murmured at last with a half sigh, and looked +again. + +She seized his hand eagerly. + +"Oh, I'm so glad you said that--and no more than that!" she cried. "I +feel the sun fairy can make you welcome now." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE SPIRIT MOUNTAIN + + +"From now on," said the girl, shaking out her skirts before sitting +down, "I am going to be a mystery." + +"You are already," replied Bennington, for the first time aware that +such was the fact. + +"No fencing. I have a plain business proposition to make. You and I are +going to be great friends. I can see that now." + +"I hope so." + +"And you, being a--well, an open-minded young man" (Now what does she +mean by that? thought Bennington), "will be asking all about myself. I +am going to tell you nothing. I am going to be a mystery." + +"I'm sure----" + +"No, you're not sure of anything, young man. Now I'll tell you this: +that I am living down the gulch with my people." + +"I know--Mr. Lawton's." + +She looked at him a moment. "Exactly. If you were to walk straight +ahead--not out in the air, of course--you could see the roof of the +house. Now, after we know each other better, the natural thing for you +to do will be to come and see me at my house, won't it?" + +Bennington agreed that it would. + +"Well, you mustn't." + +Bennington expressed his astonishment. + +"I will explain a very little. In a month occurs the Pioneer's Picnic +at Rapid. You don't know what the Pioneer's Picnic is? Ignorant boy! +It's our most important event of the year. Well, until that time I am +going to try an experiment. I am going to see if--well, I'll tell you; +I am going to try an experiment on a man, and the man is you, and I'll +explain the whole thing to you after the Pioneer's Picnic, and not a +moment before. Aren't you curious?" + +"I am indeed," Bennington assured her sincerely. + +She took on a small air of tyranny. "Now understand me. I mean what I +say. If you want to see me again, you must do as I tell you. You must +take me as I am, and you must mind me." + +Bennington cast a fleeting wonder over the sublime self-confidence +which made this girl so certain he would care to see her again. Then, +with a grip at the heart, he owned that the self-confidence was well +founded. + +"All right," he assented meekly. + +"Good!" she cried, with a gleam of mischief. "Behold me! Old Bill +Lawton's gal! If you want to be pards, put her thar!" + +"And so you are a girl after all, and no sun fairy," smiled Bennington +as he "put her thar." + +"My cloud has melted," she replied quietly, pointing toward the brow of +Harney. + +They chatted of small things for a time. Bennington felt intuitively +that there was something a little strange about this girl, something a +little out of the ordinary, something he had never been conscious of in +any other girl. Yet he could never seize the impression and examine it. +It was always just escaping; just taking shape to the point of +visibility, and then melting away again; just rising in the +modulations of her voice to a murmur that the ear thought to seize as +a definite chord, and then dying into a hundred other cadences. He +tried to catch it in her eyes, where so much else was to be seen. +Sometimes he perceived its influence, but never itself. It passed as a +shadow in the lower deeps, as though the feather mass of a great sea +growth had lifted slowly on an undercurrent, and then as slowly had +sunk back to its bed, leaving but the haunting impression of something +shapeless that had darkened the hue of the waters. It was most like a +sadness that had passed. Perhaps it was merely an unconscious trick of +thought or manner. + +After a time she asked him his first name, and he told her. + +"I'd like to know your's too, Miss Lawton," he suggested. + +"I wish you wouldn't call me Miss Lawton," she cried with sudden +petulance. + +"Why, certainly not, if you don't want me to, but what am I to call +you?" + +"Do you know," she confided with a pretty little gesture, "I have +always disliked my real name. It's ugly and horrid. I've often wished +I were a heroine in a book, and then I could have a name I really +liked. Now here's a chance. I'm going to let you get up one for me, but +it must be pretty, and we'll have it all for our very own." + +"I don't quite see----" objected the still conventional de Laney. + +"Your wits, your wits, haven't you any wits at _all_?" she cried with +impatience over his unresponsiveness. + +"Well, let me see. It isn't easy to do a thing like that on the spur of +the moment, Sun Fairy. A fairy's a fay, isn't it? I might call you +Fay." + +"Fay," she repeated in a startled tone. + +Bennington remembered that this was the name of the curly-haired young +man who had lent him the bucking horse, and frowned. + +"No, I don't believe I like that," he recanted hastily. + +"Take time and think about it," she suggested. + +"I think of one that would be appropriate," he said after some little +time. "It is suggested by that little bird there. It is Phoebe." + +"Do you think it is appropriate," she objected. "A Phoebe bird or a +Phoebe girl always seemed to me to be demure and quiet and thoughtful +and sweet-voiced and fond of dim forests, while I am a frivolous, +laughing, sunny individual who likes the open air and doesn't care for +shadows at all." + +"Yet I feel it is appropriate," he insisted. He paused and went on a +little timidly in the face of his new experience in giving expression +to the more subtle feelings. "I don't know whether I can express it or +not. You are laughing and sunny, as you say, but there is something in +you like the Phoebe bird just the same. It is like those cloud +shadows." He pointed out over the mountains. Overhead a number of +summer clouds were winging their way from the west, casting on the +earth those huge irregular shadows which sweep across it so swiftly, +yet with such dignity; so rushingly, and yet so harmlessly. "The hills +are sunny and bright enough, and all at once one of the shadows crosses +them, and it is dark. Then in another moment it is bright again." + +"And do you really see that in me?" she asked curiously. "You are a +dear boy," she continued, looking at him for some moments with +reflective eyes. "It won't do though," she said, rising at last. "It's +too 'fancy.'" + +"I don't know then," he confessed with some helplessness. + +"I'll tell you what I've always _wanted_ to be called," said she, "ever +since I was a little girl. It is 'Mary.'" + +"Mary!" he cried, astonished. "Why, it is such a common name." + +"It is a beautiful name," she asserted. "Say it over. Aren't the +syllables soft and musical and caressing? It is a lovely name. Why I +remember," she went on vivaciously, "a girl who was named Mary, and who +didn't like it. When she came to our school she changed it, but she +didn't dare to break it to the family all at once. The first letter +home she signed herself 'Mae.' Her father wrote back, 'My dear +daughter, if the name of the mother of Jesus isn't good enough for you, +come home.'" She laughed at the recollection. + +"Then you have been away to school?" asked the young man. + +"Yes," she replied shortly. + +She adroitly led him to talk of himself. He told her naively of New +York and tennis, of brake parties and clubs, and even afternoon teas +and balls, all of which, of course, interested a Western girl +exceedingly. In this it so happened that his immaturity showed more +plainly than before. He did not boast openly, but he introduced +extraneous details important in themselves. He mentioned knowing +Pennington the painter, and Brookes the writer, merely in a casual +fashion, but with just the faintest flourish. It somehow became known +that his family had a crest, that his position was high; in short, that +he was a de Laney on both sides. He liked to tell it to this girl, +because it was evidently fresh and new to her, and because in the +presence of her inexperience in these matters he gained a confidence in +himself which he had never dared assume before. + +She looked straight in front of her and listened, throwing in a +comment now and then to assist the stream of his talk. At last, when he +fell silent, she reached swiftly out and patted his cheek with her +hand. + +"You are a dear big _boy_," she said quietly. "But I like it--oh, so +much!" + +From the tree tops below the clear warble of the purple finch +proclaimed that under the fronds twilight had fallen. The vast green +surface of the hills was streaked here and there with irregular peaks +of darkness dwindling eastward. The sun was nearly down. + +A sudden gloom blotted out the fretwork of the pine shadows that had, +during the latter part of the afternoon, lain athwart the rock. They +looked up startled. + +The shadow of Harney had crept out to them, and, even as they looked, +it stole on, cat-like, across the lower ridges toward the East. One +after another the rounded hills changed hue as it crossed them. For a +moment it lingered in the tangle of woods at the outermost edge, and +then without further pause glided out over the prairie. They watched it +fascinated. The sparkle was quenched in the Cheyenne; the white gleam +of the Bad Lands became a dull gray, scarce distinguishable from the +gray of the twilight. Though a single mysterious cleft a long yellow +bar pointed down across the plains, paused at the horizon, and slowly +lifted into the air. The mountain shadow followed it steadily up into +the sky, growing and growing against the dullness of the east, until at +last over against them in the heavens was the huge phantom of a +mountain, infinitely greater, infinitely grander than any mountain ever +seen by mortal eyes, and lifting higher and higher, commanded upward by +that single wand of golden light. Then suddenly the wand was withdrawn +and the ghost mountain merged into the yellow afterglow of evening. + +The girl had watched it breathless. At its dissolution she seized the +young man excitedly by the arm. + +"The Spirit Mountain!" she cried. "I have never seen it before; and now +I see it--with you." + +She looked at him with startled eyes. + +"With you," she repeated. + +"What is it? I don't understand." + +She did not seem to hear his question. + +"What is it?" he asked again. + +"Why--nothing." She caught her breath and recovered command of herself +somewhat. "That is, it is just an old legend that I have often heard, +and it startled me for a minute." + +"Will you tell me the legend?" + +"Not now; some time. We must go now, for it will soon be dark." + +They wandered along the ridge toward Deerfoot Gulch in silence. She had +taken her sunbonnet off, and was enjoying the cool of the evening. He +carried the rifle over the crook of his arm, and watched her pensive +face. The poor little chipmunk lay stiffening in the cleft of the rock, +forgotten. The next morning a prying jay discovered him and carried him +away. He was only a little chipmunk after all--a very little +chipmunk--and nobody and nothing missed him in all the wide world, not +even his mate and his young, for mercifully grief in the animal world +is generally short-lived where tragedies are frequent. His life meant +little. His death---- + +At the dip of the gulch they paused. + +"I live just down there," she said, "and now, good-night." + +"Mayn't I take you home?" + +"Remember your promise." + +"Oh, very well." + +She looked at him seriously. "I am going to ask you to do what I have +never asked any man before," she said slowly--"to meet me. I want you +to come to the rock to-morrow afternoon. I want to hear more about New +York." + +"Of course I'll come," he agreed delightedly. "I feel as if I had known +you years already." + +They said good-bye. She walked a few steps irresolutely down the +hillside, and then, with a sudden impulsive movement, returned. She +lifted her face gravely, searchingly to his. + +"I like you," said she earnestly. "You have kind eyes," and was gone +down through the graceful alder saplings. + +Bennington stood and watched the swaying of the leaf tops that marked +her progress until she emerged into the lower gulch. There she turned +and looked back toward the ridge, but apparently could not see him, +though he waved his hand. The next instant Jim Fay strolled into the +"park" from the direction of Lawton's cabin. Bennington saw her spring +to meet him, holding out both hands, and then the two strolled back +down the gulch talking earnestly, their heads close together. + +Why should he care? "Mary, Mary, Mary!" he cried within himself as he +hurried home. And in remote burial grounds the ancient de Laneys on +both sides turned over in their lead-lined coffins. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +BENNINGTON AS A MAN OF BUSINESS + + +That evening Old Mizzou returned from town with a watery eye and a mind +that ran to horses. + +"He is shore a fine cayuse," he asserted with extreme impressiveness. +"He is one of them broncs you jest _loves_. An' he's jes 's cheap! I +likes you a lot, sonny; I deems you as a face-card shore, an' ef any +one ever tries fer to climb yore hump, you jest calls on pore Old +Mizzou an' he mingles in them troubles immediate. You must have that +cayuse an' go scoutin' in th' hills, yo' shore must! Ol' man +Davidson'll do th' work fer ye, but ye shore must scout. 'Taint healthy +not t' git exercise on a cayuse. It shorely ain't! An' you must git t' +know these yar hills, you must. They is beautiful an' picturesque, and +is full of scenery. When you goes back East, you wants to know all +about 'em. I wouldn't hev you go back East without knowin' all about +'em for anythin' in the worl', I likes ye thet much!" + +Old Mizzou paused to wipe away a sympathetic tear with a rather +uncertain hand. + +"Y' wants to start right off too, thet's th' worst of it, so's t' see +'em all afore you goes, 'cause they is lots of hills and I'm 'feared +you won't stay long, sonny; I am that! I has my ideas these yar claims +is no good, I has fer a fact, and they won't need no one here long, and +then we'll lose ye, sonny, so you mus' shore hev that cayuse." + +Old Mizzou rambled on in like fashion most of the evening, to +Bennington's great amusement, and, though next morning he was quite +himself again, he still clung to the idea that Bennington should +examine the pony. + +"He is a fine bronc, fer shore," he claimed, "an' you'd better git +arter him afore some one else gits him." + +As Bennington had for some time tentatively revolved in his mind the +desirability of something to ride, this struck him as being a good +idea. All Westerners had horses--in the books. So he abandoned +_Aliris: A Romance of all Time_, for the morning, and drove down to +Spanish Gulch with Old Mizzou. + +He was mentally braced for devilment, but his arch-enemy, Fay, was not +in sight. To his surprise, he got to the post office quite without +molestation. There he was handed two letters. One was from his parents. +The other, his first business document, proved to be from the mining +capitalist. The latter he found to inclose separate drafts for various +amounts in favour of six men. Bishop wrote that the young man was to +hand these drafts to their owners, and to take receipts for the amounts +of each. He promised a further installment in a few weeks. + +Bennington felt very important. He looked the letter all over again, +and examined the envelope idly. The Spanish Gulch postmark bore date of +the day before. + +"That's funny," said Bennington to himself. "I wonder why Mizzou didn't +bring it up with him last night?" Then he remembered the old man's +watery eye and laughed. "I guess I know," he thought. + +The next thing was to find the men named in the letter. He did not know +them from Adam. Mizzou saw no difficulty, however, when the matter was +laid before him. + +"They're in th' Straight Flush!" he asserted positively. + +This was astounding. How should Old Mizzou know that? + +"I don't exactly know," the old man explained this discrepancy, "but +they generally is!" + +"Don't they ever work?" + +"Work's purty slack," crawfished Davidson. "But I tells you I don't +_know_. We has to find out," and he shuffled away toward the saloon. + +Anybody but Bennington would have suspected something. There was the +delayed letter, the supernatural knowledge of Old Mizzou, the absence +of Fay. Even the Easterner might have been puzzled to account for the +crowded condition of the Straight Flush at ten in the morning, if his +attention had not been quite fully occupied in posing before himself as +the man of business. + +When Mizzou and his companion entered the room, the hum of talk died, +and every one turned expectantly in the direction of the newcomers. + +"Gents," said Old Mizzou, "this is Mr. de Laney, th' new sup'rintendent +of th' Holy Smoke. Mr. de Laney, gents!" + +There was a nodding of heads. + +Every one looked eagerly expectant. The man behind the bar turned back +his cuffs. De Laney, feeling himself the centre of observation, grew +nervous. He drew from his pocket Bishop's letter, and read out the five +names. "I'd like to see those men," he said. + +The men designated came forward. After a moment's conversation, the six +adjourned to the hotel, where paper and ink could be procured. + +After their exit a silence fell, and the miners looked at each other +with ludicrous faces. + +"An' he never asked us to take a drink!" exclaimed one sorrowfully. +"That settles it. It may not be fer th' good of th' camp, Jim Fay, but +I reckons it ain't much fer th' harm of it. I goes you." + +"Me to," "and me," "and me," shouted other voices. + +Fay leaped on the bar and spread his arms abroad. + +"Speech! Speech!" they cried. + +"Gentlemen of the great and glorious West!" he began. "It rejoices me +to observe this spirit animating your bosoms. Trampling down the finer +feelings that you all possess to such an unlimited degree, putting +aside all thought of merely material prosperity, you are now prepared, +at whatever cost, to ally yourselves with that higher poetic justice +which is above barter, above mere expediency, above even the ordinary +this-for-that fairness which often passes as justice among the effete +and unenlightened savages of the East. Gentlemen of the great and +glorious West, I congratulate you!" + +The miners stood close around the bar. Every man's face bore a broad +grin. At this point they interrupted with howls and cat-calls of +applause. "Ain't he a _peach_!" said one to another, and composed +himself again to listen. At the conclusion of a long harangue they +yelled enthusiastically, and immediately began the more informal +discussion of what was evidently a popular proposition. When the five +who had been paid off returned, everybody had a drink, while the +newcomers were made acquainted with the subject. Old Mizzou, who had +listened silently but with a twinkle in his eye, went to hunt up +Bennington. + +They examined the horse together. The owner named thirty dollars as his +price. Old Mizzou said this was cheap. It was not. Bennington agreed to +take the animal on trial for a day or two, so they hitched a lariat +around its neck and led it over to the wagon. After despatching a few +errands they returned to camp. Bennington got out his ledger and +journal and made entries importantly. Old Mizzou disappeared in the +direction of the corral, where he was joined presently by the man +Arthur. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE MEETING AT THE ROCK + + +On his way to keep the appointment of the afternoon, Bennington de +Laney discovered within himself a new psychological experience. He +found that, since the evening before, he had been observing things +about him for the purpose of detailing them to his new friend. Little +beauties of nature--as when a strange bird shone for an instant in +vivid contrast to the mountain laurel near his window; an unusual +effect of pine silhouettes near the sky; a weird, semi-poetic +suggestion of one of Poe's stories implied in a contorted shadow cast +by a gnarled little oak in the light of the moon--these he had noticed +and remembered, and was now eager to tell his companion, with full +assurance of her sympathy and understanding. Three days earlier he +would have passed them by. + +But stranger still was his discovery that he had _always_ noticed such +things, and had remembered them. Observations of the sort had +heretofore been quite unconscious. Without knowing it he had always +been a Nature lover, one who appreciated the poetry of her moods, one +who saw the beauty of her smiles, or, what is more rare, the greater +beauty of her frown. The influence had entered into his being, but had +lain neglected. Now it stole forth as the odour of a dried balsam bough +steals from the corner of a loft whither it has been thrown carelessly. +It was all delightful and new, and he wanted to tell her of it. + +He did so. After a little he told her about _Aliris: A Romance of all +Time_, in which she appeared so interested that he detailed the main +idea and the plot. At her request, he promised to read it to her. He +was very young, you see, and very inexperienced; he threw himself +generously, without reserve, on this girl's sympathies in a manner of +which, assuredly, he should have been quite ashamed. Only the very +young are not ashamed. + +The girl listened, at first half amused. Then she was touched, for she +saw that it was sincere, and youthful, and indicative of clear faith +in what is beautiful, and in fine ideals of what is fitting. Perhaps, +dimly, she perceived that this is good stuff of which to make a man, +provided it springs from immaturity, and not from the sentimentalism of +degeneracy. The loss of it is a price we pay for wisdom. Some think the +price too high. + +As he talked on in this moonshiny way, really believing his ridiculous +abstractions the most important things in the world, gradually she too +became young. She listened with parted lips, and in her great eyes the +soul rose and rose within, clearing away the surface moods as twilight +clears the land of everything but peace. + +He was telling of the East again with a certain felicity of +expression--have we not said he had the gift of words?--and an abandon +of sentiment which showed how thoroughly he confided in the sympathy of +his listener. When we are young we are apt to confide in the sympathy +of every listener, and so we make fools of ourselves, and it takes us a +long time to live down our reputations. As we grow older, we believe +less and less in its reality. Perhaps by and by we do not trust to +anybody's sympathy, not even our own. + +"We have an old country place," he was saying; "it belonged to my +grandfather. My grandfather came by it when the little town was very +small indeed, so he built an old-fashioned stone house and surrounded +it with large grounds." He was seeing the stone house and the large +grounds with that new inner observation which he had just discovered, +and he was trying to the best of his ability to tell what he saw. After +a little he spoke more rhythmically. Many might have thought he spoke +sentimentally, because with feeling; but in reality he was merely +trying with great earnestness for expression. A jarring word would have +brought him back to his everyday mood, but for the time being he was +wrapt in what he saw. This is a condition which all writers, and some +lovers, will recognise. "Now the place is empty--except in +summer--except that we have an old woman who lives tucked away in one +corner of it. I lived there one summer just after I finished college. +Outside my window there was an apple tree that just brushed against +the ledge; there were rose vines, the climbing sort, on the wall; and +then, too, there was a hickory tree that towered 'way over the roof. In +the front yard is what is known all over town as the 'big tree,' a +silver maple, at least twice as tall as the house. It is so broad that +its shade falls over the whole front of the place. In the back is an +orchard of old apple trees, and trellises of big blue grapes. On one +side is a broad lawn, at the back of which is one of the good +old-fashioned flower gardens that does one good to look at. There are +little pink primroses dotting the sod, sweet-william, lavender, +nasturtiums, sweet peas, hollyhocks, bachelor's buttons, portulaca, and +a row of tall sunflowers, the delight of a sleepy colony of hens. I +learned all the flowers that summer." He clasped his hands comfortably +back of his head and looked at her. She was gazing out over the Bad +Lands to the East. "In the very centre, as a sort of protecting nurse +to all the littler flowers," he went on, "is a big lilac bush, and +there the bees and humming birds are thick on a warm spring day. There +are plenty of birds too, but I didn't know so many of them. They +nested everywhere--in the 'big tree,' the orchard, the evergreens, the +hedges, and in the long row of maple trees with trunks as big as a +barrel and limbs that touch across the street." + +"It must be beautiful!" said the girl quietly without looking around. + +Then he began to "suppose." This, as every woman knows, is dangerous +business. + +"It _was_ beautiful," said he. "I can't tell you about it. The words +don't seem to fit some way. I wish you could see it for yourself. I +know you'd enjoy it. I always wanted some one with me to enjoy it too. +Suppose some way we were placed so we could watch the year go by in +those deep windows. First there is the spring and the birds and the +flowers, all of which I've been talking about. Then there is the +summer, when the shades are drawn, when the shadows of the roses wave +slowly across the curtains, when the air outside quivers with heat, and +the air inside tastes like a draught of cool water. All the bird songs +are stilled except that one little fellow still warbles, swaying in +the breeze on the tiptop of the 'big tree,' his notes sliding down the +long sunbeams like beads on a golden thread. Then we would read +together, in the half-darkened 'parlour,' something not very deep, but +beautiful, like Hawthorne's stories; or we would together seek for +these perfect lines of poetry which haunt the memory. In the evening we +would go out to hear the crickets and the tree toads, to see the night +breeze toss the leaves across the calm face of the moon, to be silenced +in spirit by the peace of the stars. Then the autumn would come. We +would taste the 'Concords' and the little red grapes and the big red +grapes. We would take our choice of the yellow sweetings, the hard +white snow apples, or the little red-cheeked fellows from the west +tree. And then, of course, there are the russets! Then there are the +pears, and all the hickory nuts which rattle down on us every time the +wind blows. The leaves are everywhere. We would rake them up into big +piles, and jump into them, and 'swish' about in them. How bracing the +air is! How silvery the sun! How red your cheeks would get! And think +of the bonfires!" + +"And in winter?" murmured the girl. Her eyes were shining. + +"In the winter the wind would howl through the 'big tree,' and +everything would be bleak and cold out doors. We would be inside, of +course, and we would sit on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, +while the evening passed by, watching the 'geese in the chimney' flying +slowly away." + +"'Suppose' some more," she begged dreamily. "I love it. It rests me." + +She clasped her hands back of her head and closed her eyes. + +The young man looked quietly about him. + +"This is a wild and beautiful country," said he, "but it lacks +something. I think it is the soul. The little wood lots of the East +have so much of it." He paused in surprise at his own thoughts. His +only experiences in the woods East had been when out picnicking, or +berrying, and he had never noticed these things. "I don't know as I +ever thought of it there," he went on slowly, as though trying to be +honest with her, "but here it comes to me somehow or another." A little +fly-catcher shot up from the frond below, poised a moment, and dropped +back with closed wings. + +"Do you know the birds?" she asked. + +"I'm afraid not," he admitted; "I don't really _know_ much about +Nature, but I love it, and I'm going to learn more. I know only the +very common birds, and one other. Did you ever hear the hermit thrush +sing?" + +"Never." + +"Oh!" he cried in sudden enthusiasm, "then there is another 'suppose' +for us, the best of all." + +"I love the dear old house!" she objected doubtfully. + +"But the hermit thrush is better. The old country minister took me to +hear him one Sunday afternoon and I shall never forget it." + +She glanced at his animated face through half-closed eyes. + +"Tell me," she urged softly. + +"'Suppose' we were back East," he began, "and in the country, just +about this time of year. We would wait until the afternoon--why! just +about this time, when the sun is getting low. We would push through the +bushes at the edge of the woods where the little tinkling birds sing in +the fence corners, and would enter the deep high woods where the trees +are tall and still. The moss is thick and soft in there, and there are +little pools lying calm and dark, and there is a kind of a _hush_ in +the air--not silence, you know, but like when a big crowd of people are +keeping still. And then we would walk very carefully, and speak low, +and we would sit by the side of a fallen log and wait. After a while +the thrush would sing, a deep note, with a thrill in it, like a bell +slow and solemn. When you hear it you too feel a thrill as though you +had heard a great and noble thought. Why, it is almost _holy_!" + +He turned to the girl. She was looking at him. + +"Why, hullo!" he exclaimed, "what's the matter?" + +Her eyes were brimming with tears. + +"Nothing," she said. "I never heard a man talk as you have been +talking, that is all. The rest of them are cynical and hard and cold. +They would be ashamed to say the things you have said. No, no!" she +cried, laying her hand on his arm as he made a little uneasy movement, +"do not misunderstand me. I like it. I love it. It does me good. I had +lost faith. It is not nice to know the other kind--well." + +"You speak bitterly," he expostulated. + +She laughed. "It is a common experience enough. Pray that you may never +know it. I began as a little child, loving and trusting every one, and +giving my full free heart and confidence to every one who offered his +best to me. All I can say is, that I am thankful for you that you have +escaped the suffering such blind trust leads to." + +She laughed again, bitterly, and threw her arms out. + +"I suppose I shall go on trusting people forever. It's in my nature, +and I can't help it." + +"I hope you will feel you can trust me," said he, troubled at this +passion so much beyond his experience. "I would do anything for you." + +"Do! do!" she cried with contempt. "Yes. Any number of people will _do_ +anything for me. I want some one to _be_ for me!" + +"I'm so sorry!" he said simply, but with great feeling. + +"Don't pity me, don't believe in me!" she cried suddenly in a passion. +"I am not worth it. I am cruel and hard and cold, and I'll never care +for anybody in any way. My nature has been hardened. I _can't_ be good. +I can't care for people. I _can't_ think of giving way to it. It +frightens me." + +She burst into sudden tears and sobbed convulsively. In a moment she +became calm. Then she took her hands from her eyes and smiled. In the +distress of his sympathy Bennington thought he had never seen anything +more beautiful than this breaking forth of the light. + +"You must think I am a very peculiar young person," she said, "but I +told you I was a mystery. I am a little tired to-day, that's all." + +The conversation took a lighter tone and ran on the subject of the new +horse. She was much interested, inquiring of his colour, his size, his +gaits, whether he had been tried. + +"I'll tell you what we will do," she suggested; "we'll go on an +expedition some day. I have a pony too. We will fill up our saddlebags +and cook our own dinner. I know a nice little place over toward Blue +Lead." + +"I've one suggestion to add," put in Bennington, "and that is, that we +go to-morrow." + +She looked a trifle doubtful. + +"I don't know. Aren't we seeing a good deal of each other?" + +"Oh, if it is going to bore you, by all means put it off!" cried +Bennington in genuine alarm. + +She laughed contentedly over his way of looking at it. "I'm not tired +then, so please you; and when I am, I'll let you know. To-morrow it +is." + +"Shall I come after you? What time shall I start?" + +"No, I'd rather meet you somewhere. Let's see. You watch for me, and +I'll ride by in the lower gulch about nine o'clock." + +"Very well. By the way, the band's going to practise in town to-night. +Don't you want to go?" + +"I'd like to, but I promised Jim I'd go with him." + +"Jim?" + +"Jim Fay." + +Bennington felt this as a discordant note. + +"Do you know him very well?" he asked jealously. + +"He's my best friend. I like him very much. He is a fine fellow. You +must meet him." + +"I've met him," said Bennington shortly. + +"Now you must go," she commanded, after a pause. "I want to stay here +for a while." "No," as he opened his mouth to object. "I mean it! +Please be good!" + +After he had gone she sat still until sundown. Once she shook her +shoulders impatiently. "It is _silly_!" she assured herself. As before, +the shadow of Harney crept out to the horizon's edge. There it +stopped. Twilight fell. + +"No Spirit Mountain to-night," she murmured wistfully at last. "Almost +do I believe in the old legend." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AN ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT + + +After supper that night Bennington found himself unaccountably alone in +camp. Old Mizzou had wandered off up the gulch. Arthur had wandered off +down the gulch. The woman had locked herself in her cabin. + +So, having nothing else to do, he got out the manuscript of _Aliris: A +Romance of all Time_, and read it through carefully from the beginning. +To his surprise he found it very poor. Its language was felicitous in +some spots, but stilted in most; the erudition was pedantic, and +dragged in by the ears; the action was idiotic; and the proportions +were padded until they no longer existed as proportions. He was +astounded. He began to see that he had misconceived the whole treatment +of it. It would have to be written all over again, with the love story +as the ruling _motif_. He felt very capable of doing the love story. +He drew some paper toward him and began to write. + +You see he was already developing. Every time a writer is made to +appreciate that his work is poor he has taken a step in advance of it. +Although he did not know that was the reason of it, Bennington +perceived the deficiencies of _Aliris_, because he had promised to read +it to the girl. He saw it through her eyes. + +The young man became absorbed in redescribing the heroine with violet +eyes. A sudden slamming of the door behind him brought him, startled, +to his feet. He laughed, and was about to sit down again, but noticed +that the door had remained open. He arose to shut it. Over the trunks +of the nearer pines played a strange flickering light, throwing them +now into relief, now into shadow. "Strange!" murmured Bennington to +himself, and stepped outside to investigate. As he crossed the sill he +was seized on either side. + +He cried out and struggled blindly, but was held as in a vice. His +captors, whom he dimly perceived to be large men in masks, whirled him +sharply to the left, and he found himself face to face with a third +man, also masked. Beyond him were a score or so more, some of whom bore +pine torches, which, partly blazing and partly smoking, served to cast +the weird light he had seen flickering on the tree trunks. Perfect +silence reigned. The man with whom Bennington was fronted eyed him +gravely through the holes in his mask. + +"I'd like to know what this means?" broke out the Easterner angrily. + +The men did not reply. They stood motionless, as silent as the night. +In spite of his indignation, the young man was impressed. He twisted +his shoulders again. The men at either arm never tightened a muscle to +resist, and yet he was held beyond the possibility of escape. + +"What's the matter? What're you trying to do? Take your hands off me!" +he cried. + +Again the silence fell. + +Then at the end of what seemed to the Easterner a full minute the +masked figure in front spoke. + +"Thar is them that thinks as how it ain't noways needful thet ye +knows," it said in slow and solemn accents, "but by the mercy of th' +others we gives y' thet much satisfaction." + +"You comes hyar from a great corp'ration thet in times gone by we +thinks is public spirited an' enterprisin', which is a mistake. You +pays th' debt of said corp'ration, so they sez, an' tharfore we +welcomes you to our bosom cordial. What happens? You insults us by +paying such low-down ornary cusses as Snowie. Th' camp is just. She +arises an' avenges said insult by stringin' of you up all right an' +proper. We gives you five minutes to get ready." + +"What do you mean?" + +"We hangs you in five minutes." + +The slow, even voice ceased, and again the silence was broken only by +the occasional bursting crackle of a blister in the pine torches. +Bennington tried to realize the situation. It had all come about so +suddenly. + +"I guess you've got the joke on me, boys," he ventured with a nervous +little laugh. And then his voice died away against the stony +immobility of the man opposite as laughter sinks to nothing against +the horror of a great darkness. Bennington began to feel impressed in +earnest. Across his mind crept doubts as to the outcome. He almost +screamed aloud as some one stole up behind and dropped over his throat +the soft cold coil of a lariat. Then, at a signal from the chief, the +two men haled him away. + +They stopped beneath a gnarled oak halfway down the slope to the gulch +bottom, from which protruded, like a long witch arm, a single withered +branch. Over this the unseen threw the end of the lariat. Bennington +faced the expressionless gaze of twenty masks, on which the torchlight +threw Strong black shadows. Directly in front of him the leader posted +himself, watch in hand. + +"Any last requests?" he inquired in his measured tones. + +Bennington felt the need of thinking quickly, but, being unused to +emergencies, he could not. + +"Anywhar y' want yore stuff sent?" the other pursued relentlessly. + +Bennington swallowed, and found his voice at last. + +"Now be reasonable," he pleaded. "It isn't going to do you any good to +hang me. I didn't mean to make any distinctions. I just paid the oldest +debts, that's all. You'll all get paid. There'll be some more money +after a while, and then I can pay some more of you. If you kill me, you +won't get any at all." + +"Won't get any any way," some one muttered audibly from the crowd. + +The man with the watch never stirred. + +"Two minutes more," he said simply. + +One of the men, who had been holding the young man's arms, had fallen +back into the crowd when the lariat was thrown over the oak limb. +During the short colloquy just detailed, the attention of the other had +become somewhat distracted. Bennington wrenched himself free, and +struck this man full in the face. + +He had never in his well-ordered life hit in anger, but behind this +blow was desperation, and the weight of a young and active body. The +man went down. Bennington seized the lariat with both hands and tried +to wrench it over his head. + +The individual who had done all the talking leaped forward toward him, +and dodging a hastily aimed blow, seized him about the waist and threw +him neatly to the ground. Bennington struggled furiously and silently. +The other had great difficulty in holding him down. + +"Come here, some of you fellows," he cried, panting and laughing a +little. "Tie his hands, for the love of Heaven." + +In another moment the Easterner, his arms securely pinioned, stood as +before. He was breathing hard and the short struggle had heated his +blood through and through. Bunker Hill had waked up. He set his teeth, +resolving that they should not get another word out of him. + +The timekeeper raised one hand warningly. Over his shoulder Bennington +dimly saw a tall muscular figure, tense with the expectation of effort, +lean forward to the slack of the lariat. He stared back to the front. + +The leader raised his pistol to give the signal. Bennington shut his +eyes. Then ensued a pause and a murmuring of low voices. Bennington +looked, and, to his surprise, perceived Lawton's girl in earnest +expostulation with the leader of the band. As he listened their voices +rose, so he caught snatches of their talk. + +"Confound it all!" objected the man in exasperated tones, "you don't +play fair. That wasn't the agreement at all." + +"Agreement or no agreement, this thing's gone far enough," she rejoined +sharply. "I've watched the whole performance, and I've been expecting +for the last ten minutes you'd have sense enough to quit." + +The voices died to a murmuring. Once the girl stamped her foot, and +once the man spread his hands out in deprecation. The maskers grouped +about in silent enjoyment of the scene. At last the discussion +terminated. + +"It's all up, boys," cried the man savagely, tearing off his mask. To +Bennington's vast surprise, the features of Jim Fay were discovered. He +approached and began sullenly to undo the young man's pinioned arms. +The others rolled up their masks and put them in their pockets. They +laughed to each other consumedly. The tall man approached, rubbing his +jaw. + +"You hits hard, sonny," said he, "and you don't go down in yore +boots[A] a little bit." + +The group began to break up and move down the gulch, most of the men +shouting out a good-natured word or so of farewell. Bennington, +recovering from his daze at the rapid passage of these events, stepped +forward to where Fay and the girl had resumed their discussion. He saw +that the young miner had recovered his habitual tone of raillery, and +that the girl was now looking up at him with eyes full of deprecation. + +"Miss Lawton," said Bennington with formality, "I hope you will allow +me, after your great kindness, to see that you get down the gulch +safely." + +Fay cut in before the girl could reply. + +"Don't bother about that, de Laney," said he, in a most cavalier +fashion. "I'll see to it." + +"I did not address you, sir!" returned Bennington coldly. The +Westerner's eyes twinkled with amusement. The girl interrupted. + +"Thank you very much, Mr. de Laney, but Mr. Fay is right--I wouldn't +trouble you." Her eyes commanded Fay, and he moved a little apart. + +"Don't be angry," she pleaded hurriedly, in an undertone, "but it's +better that way to-night. And I think you acted grandly." + +"You are the one who acted grandly," he replied, a little mollified. +"How can I ever thank you? You came just in time." + +She laughed. + +"You're not angry, are you?" she coaxed. + +"No, of course not; what right have I to be?" + +"I don't like that--quite--but I suppose it will do. You'll be there +to-morrow?" + +"You know I will." + +"Then good-night." She gave his folded arm a hasty pat and ran on down +the hill after Fay, who had gone on. Bennington saw her seize his +shoulders, as she overtook him, and give them a severe shake. + +The light of the torches down the gulch wavered and disappeared. +Bennington returned to his room. On the table lay his manuscript, and +the ink was hardly dried on the last word of it. Outside a poor-will +began to utter its weird call. The candle before him sputtered, and +burned again with a clear flame. + +[Footnote A: Western--to become frightened.] + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE HEAVENS OPENED + + +Bennington awoke early the next morning, a pleased glow of anticipation +warming his heart, and almost before his eyes were opened he had raised +himself to leap out of the bunk. Then with a disappointed sigh he sank +back. On the roof fell the heavy patter of raindrops. + +After a time he arose and pulled aside the curtains of a window. The +nearer world was dripping; the farther world was hidden or obscured by +long veils of rain, driven in ragged clouds before a west wind. +Yesterday the leaves had waved lightly, the undergrowth of shrubs had +uplifted in feathery airiness of texture, the ground beneath had been +crisp and aromatic with pine needles. Now everything bore a drooping, +sodden aspect which spoke rather of decay than of the life of spring. +Even the chickens had wisely remained indoors, with the exception of a +single bedraggled old rooster, whose melancholy appearance added +another shade of gloom to the dismal outlook. The wind twisted his long +tail feathers from side to side so energetically that, even as +Bennington looked, the poor fowl, perforce, had to scud, careened from +one side to the other, like a heavily-laden craft, into the shelter of +his coop. The wind, left to its own devices, skittered across +cold-looking little pools of water, and tried in vain to induce the +soaked leaves of the autumn before to essay an aerial flight. + +The rain hit the roof now in heavy gusts as though some one had dashed +it from a pail. The wind whistled through a loosened shingle and +rattled around an ill-made joint. Within the house itself some slight +sounds of preparation for breakfast sounded the clearer against the +turmoil outside. And then Bennington became conscious that for some +time he had _felt_ another sound underneath all the rest. It was grand +and organlike in tone, resembling the roar of surf on a sand beach as +much as anything else. He looked out again, and saw that it was the +wind in the trees. The same conditions that had before touched the harp +murmur of a stiller day now struck out a rush and roar almost +awe-inspiring in its volume. Bennington impulsively threw open the +window and leaned out. + +The great hill back of the camp was so steep that the pines growing on +its slope offered to the breeze an almost perpendicular screen of +branches. Instead of one, or at most a dozen trees, the wind here +passed through a thousand at once. As a consequence, the stir of air +that in a level woodland would arouse but a faint whisper, here would +pass with a rustling murmur; a murmur would be magnified into a noise +as of the mellow falling of waters; and now that the storm had +awakened, the hill caught up its cry with a howl so awful and sustained +that, as the open window let in the full volume of its blast, +Bennington involuntarily drew back. He closed the sash and turned to +dress. + +After the first disappointment, strange to say, Bennington became quite +resigned. He had felt, a little illogically, that this giving of a +whole day to the picnic was not quite the thing. His Puritan conscience +impressed him with the sacredness of work. He settled down to the fact +of the rainstorm with a pleasant recognition of its inevitability, and +a resolve to improve his time. + +To that end, after breakfast, he drew on a pair of fleece-lined +slippers, donned a sweater, occupied two chairs in the well-known +fashion, and attacked with energy the pages of Le Conte's _Geology_. +This book, as you very well know, discourses at first with great +interest concerning erosions. Among other things it convinces you that +a current of water, being doubled in swiftness, can transport a mass +sixty-four times as heavy as when it ran half as fast. This astounding +proposition is abstrusely proved. As Bennington had resolved not to +make his reading mere recreation, he drew diagrams conscientiously +until he understood it. Then he passed on to an earnest consideration +of why the revolution of the globe and the resistance of continents +cause oceanic currents of a particular direction and velocity. Besides +this, there was much easier reading concerning alluvial deposits. So +interested did he grow that Old Mizzou, coming in, muddy-hoofed and +glistening from a round of the stock, found him quite unapproachable on +the subject of cribbage. The patriarch then stumped over to Arthur's +cabin. + +After dinner, Bennington picked up the book again, but found that his +brain had reached the limit of spontaneous mental effort. He looked for +Old Mizzou and the cribbage game. The miner had gone to visit Arthur +again. Bennington wandered about disconsolately. + +For a time he drummed idly on the window pane. Then he took out his +revolver and tried to practise through the open doorway. The smoke from +the discharges hung heavy in the damp air, filling the room in a most +disagreeable fashion. Bennington's trips to see the effect of his shots +proved to him the fiendish propensity of everything he touched, were it +never so lightly, to sprinkle him with cold water. Above all, his skill +with the weapon was not great enough as yet to make it much fun. He +abandoned pistol shooting and yawned extensively, wishing it were time +to go to bed. + +In the evening he played cribbage with Old Mizzou. After a time Arthur +and his wife came in and they had a dreary game of "cinch," the man +speaking but little, the woman not at all. Old Mizzou smoked +incessantly on a corncob pipe charged with a peculiarly pungent variety +of tobacco, which filled the air with a blue vapour, and penetrated +unpleasantly into Bennington's mucous membranes. + +The next morning it was still raining. + +Bennington became very impatient indeed, but he tackled Le Conte +industriously, and did well enough until he tried to get it into his +head why various things happen to glaciers. Then viscosity, the lines +of swiftest motion, relegation, and directions of pressure came forth +from the printed pages and mocked him. He arose in his might and went +forth into the open air. + +Before going out he had put on his canvas shooting coat and a pair of +hobnailed leather hunting boots, laced for a little distance at the +front and sides. He visited the horses, standing disconsolate under an +open shed in the corral; he slopped, with constantly accruing masses of +sticky earth at his feet, to the chicken coop, into which he cast an +eye; he even took the kitchen pails and tramped down to the spring and +back. In the gulch he did not see or hear a living thing. A newly-born +and dirty little stream was trickling destructively through all manner +of shivering grasses and flowers. The water from Bennington's sleeves +ran down over the harsh canvas cuffs and turned his hands purple with +the cold. He returned to the cabin and changed his clothes. + +The short walk had refreshed him, but it had spurred his impatience. +Outside, the world seemed to have changed. His experience with the +Hills, up to now, had always been in one phase of their beauty--that of +clear, bright sunshine and soft skies. Now it was as a different +country. He could not get rid of the feeling, foolish as it was, that +it was in reality different; and that the whole episode of the girl and +the rock was as a vision which had passed. It grew indistinct in the +presence of this iron reality of cold and wet. He could not assure +himself he had not imagined it all. Thus, belated, he came to thinking +of her again, and having now nothing else to do, he fell into daydreams +that had no other effect than to reveal to him the impatience which had +been, from the first, the real cause of his restlessness under the +temporary confinement. Now the impatience grew in intensity. He +resolved that if the morrow did not end the storm, he would tramp down +the gulch to make a call. All this time _Aliris_ lay quite untouched. + +The next day dawned darker than ever. After breakfast Old Mizzou, as +usual, went out to feed the horses, and Bennington, through sheer +idleness, accompanied him. They distributed the oats and hay, and then +stood, sheltered from the direct rain, conversing idly. + +Suddenly the wind died and the rain ceased. In the place of the gloom +succeeded a strange sulphur-yellow glare which lay on the spirit with +almost physical oppression. Old Mizzou shouted something, and scrambled +excitedly to the house. Bennington looked about him bewildered. + +Over back of the hill, dimly discernible through the trees, loomed the +black irregular shape of a cloud, in dismal contrast to the yellow +glare which now filled all the sky. The horses, frightened, crowded up +close to Bennington, trying to push their noses over his shoulder. A +number of jays and finches rushed down through the woods and darted +rapidly, each with its peculiar flight, toward a clump of trees and +bushes standing on a ridge across the valley. + +From the cabin Old Mizzou was shouting to him. He turned to follow the +old man. Back of him something vast and awful roared out, and then all +at once he felt himself struggling with a rush of waters. He was jammed +violently against the posts of the corral. There he worked to his feet. + +The whole side of the hill was one vast spread of shallow tossing +water, as though a lake had been let fall on the summit of the ridge. +The smaller bushes were uprooted and swept along, but the trees and +saplings held their own. + +In a moment the stones and ridgelets began to show. It was over. Not a +drop of rain had fallen. + +Bennington climbed the corral fence and walked slowly to the house. The +blacksmith shop was filled to the window, and Arthur's cabin was not +much better. He entered the kitchen. The floor there was some two +inches submerged, but the water was slowly escaping through the +down-hill door by which Bennington had come in. Across the dining-room +door Mrs. Arthur had laid a folded rug. In front of the barrier stood +the lady herself, vigorously sweeping back the threatening water from +her only glorious apartment. + +Bennington took the broom from her and swept until the cessation of the +flood made it no longer necessary. Mrs. Arthur commenced to mop the +floor. The young man stepped outside. There he was joined a moment +later by the other two. + +They offered no explanation of their whereabouts during the trouble, +but Bennington surmised shrewdly that they had hunted a dry place. + +"Glory!" cried Old Mizzou. "Lucky she misses us!" + +"What was it? Where'd it come from?" inquired Bennington, shaking the +surface drops from his shoulders. He was wet through. + +"Cloud-burst," replied the miner. "She hit up th' ridge a ways. If +she'd ever burst yere, sonny, ye'd never know what drownded ye. Look at +that gulch!" + +The water had now drained from the hill entirely. It could be seen that +most of the surface earth had been washed away, leaving the skeleton of +the mountain bare. Some of the more slightly rooted trees had fallen, +or clung precariously to the earth with bony fingers. But the gulch +itself was terrible. The mountain laurel, the elders, the sarvis +bushes, the wild roses which, a few days before, had been fragrant and +beautiful with blossom and leaf and musical with birds, had +disappeared. In their stead rolled an angry brown flood whirling in +almost unbroken surface from bank to bank. Several oaks, submerged to +their branches, raised their arms helplessly. As Bennington looked, +one of these bent slowly and sank from sight. A moment later it shot +with great suddenness half its length into the air, was seized by the +eager waters, and whisked away as lightly as though it had been a tree +of straw. Dark objects began to come down with the stream. They seemed +to be trying to preserve a semblance of dignity in their stately +bobbing up and down, but apparently found the attempt difficult. The +roar was almost deafening, but even above it a strangely deliberate +grinding noise was audible. Old Mizzou said it was the grating of +boulders as they were rolled along the bed of the stream. The yellow +glow had disappeared from the air, and the gloom of rain had taken its +place. + +A fine mist began to fall. Bennington for the first time realized he +was wet and shivering, and so he turned inside to change his clothes. + +"It'll all be over in a few hours," remarked Arthur. "I reckon them +Spanish Gulch people'll wish they lived up-stream." + +Bennington paused at the doorway. + +"That's so," he commented. "How about Spanish Gulch? Will it all be +drowned out?" + +"No, I reckon not," replied Arthur. "They'll get wet down a lot, and +have wet blankets to sleep in to-night, that's all. You see the gulch +spraddles out down there, an' then too all this timber'll jam down this +gulch a-ways. That'll back up th' water some, and so she won't come all +of a rush." + +"I see," said Bennington. + +The afternoon was well enough occupied in repairing to some extent the +ravages of the brief storm. A length of the corral had succumbed to the +flood, many valuable tools in the blacksmith shop were in danger of +rust from the dampness, and Arthur and his wife had been completely +washed out. All three men worked hard setting things to rights. The +twilight caught them before their work was done. + +Bennington found himself too weary to attempt an unknown, +_débris_-covered road by dark. He played cribbage with Old Mizzou and +won. + +About half past nine he pushed back his chair and went outside. The +stars had come out by the thousand, and a solitary cricket, which had +in some way escaped the deluge, was chirping in the middle distance. +With a sudden uplift of the heart he realized that he would see "her" +on the morrow. He learned that no matter how philosophically we may +have borne a separation, the prospect of its near end shows us how +strong the repression has been; the lifting of the bonds makes evident +how much they have galled. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE WORLD MADE YOUNG + + +The morning fulfilled the promise of the night before. Bennington de +Laney awoke to a sun-bright world, fresh with the early breezes. A +multitude of birds outside the window bubbled and warbled and carolled +away with all their little mights, either in joy at the return of +peace, or in sorrow at the loss of their new-built houses. Sorrow and +joy sound much alike as nature tells them. The farther ridges and the +prairies were once more in view, but now, oh, wonder! the great plain +had cast aside its robes of monk brown, and had stepped forth in jolly +green-o'Lincoln. The air was full of tingling life. Altogether a +morning to cry one to leap eagerly from bed, to rush to the window, to +drink in deep draughts of electric balmy ozone, and to thank heaven for +the grace of mere existence. + +That at least is what Bennington did. And he did more. He despatched a +hasty breakfast, and went forth and saddled his steed, and rode away +down the gulch, with never a thought of sample tests, and never a care +whether the day's work were done or not. For this was springtime, and +the air was snapping with it. Near the chickens' shelter the burnished +old gobbler spread his tail and dragged his wings and puffed his +feathers and swelled himself red in the face, to the great admiration +of a demure gray-brown little turkey hen. Overhead wheeled two small +hawks screaming. They clashed, and light feathers came floating down +from the encounter; yet presently they flew away together to a hole in +a dead tree. Three song sparrows dashed almost to his very feet, so +busily fighting that they hardly escaped the pony's hoofs. Everywhere +love songs trilled from the underbrush; and Bennington de Laney, as +young, as full of life, as unmated as they, rode slowly along thinking +of his lady love, and---- + +"Hullo! Where are you going?" cried she. + +He looked up with eager joy, to find that they had met in the middle +of what used to be the road. The gulch had been swept bare by the +flood, not only of every representative of the vegetable world, but +also of the very earth in which it had grown. From the remains of the +roadbed projected sharp flints and rocks, among which the broncos +picked their way. + +"Good-morning, Mary," he cried. "I was just coming to see you. Wasn't +it a great rain?" + +"And isn't the gulch awful? Down near our way the timber began to jam, +and it is all choked up; but up here it is desolate." + +He turned his horse about, and they paced slowly along together, +telling each other their respective experiences in the storm. It seemed +that the Lawtons had known nothing of the cloud-burst itself, except +from its effects in filling up the ravine. Rumours of the drowning of a +miner were about. + +It soon became evident that the brightness of the morning was reflected +from the girl's mood. She fairly sparkled with gaiety and high spirits. +The two got along famously. + +"Where are you going?" asked Bennington at last. + +"On the picnic, of course," she rejoined promptly. "Weren't you +invited? I thought you were." + +"I thought it would be too wet," he averred in explanation. + +"Not a bit! The rain dries quickly in the hills, and the cloud-burst +only came into this gulch. I have here," she went on, twisting around +in her saddle to inspect a large bundle and a pair of well-stuffed +saddle bags, "I have here a coffee pot, a frying pan, a little kettle, +two tin cups, and various sorts of grub. I am fixed for a scout sure. +Now when we get near your camp you must run up and get an axe and some +matches." + +Bennington observed with approval the corpulency of the bundle and the +skilful manner with which it was tied on. He noted, with perhaps more +approval, her lithe figure in its old-fashioned painter's blouse and +rough skirt, and the rosiness of her cheeks under a cloth cap caught on +awry. As the ponies sought a path at a snail's pace through the sharp +flints, she showed in a thousand ways how high the gaiety of her +animal spirits had mounted. She sang airy little pieces of songs. She +uttered single clear notes. She mocked, with a ludicrously feminine +croak, the hoarse voice of a crow sailing over them. She rallied +Bennington mercilessly on his corduroys, his yellow flapped pistol +holster, his laced boots. She went over in ridiculous pantomime the +scene of the mock lynching, until Bennington rolled in his saddle with +light-hearted laughter, and wondered how it was possible he had ever +taken the affair seriously. When he returned with the axe she was +hugely alarmed lest he harm himself by his awkward way of carrying it, +and gave him much wholesome advice in her most maternal manner. After +all of which she would catch his eye, and they would both laugh to +startle the birds. + +Blue Lead proved to be some distance away, for which fact Bennington +was not sorry. At length they surmounted a little ridge. Over its +summit there started into being a long cool "draw," broad and shallow +near the top, but deepening by insensible degrees into a cañon filled +already with broad-leaved shrubs, and thickly grown with saplings of +beech and ash. Through the screen of slender trunks could be seen +miniature open parks carpeted with a soft tiny fern, not high enough to +conceal the ears of a rabbit, or to quench the flame of the tiger lily +that grew there. Soon a little brook sprang from nowhere, and crept +timidly through and under thick mosses. After a time it increased in +size, and when it had become large enough to bubble over clear gravel, +Mary called a halt. + +"We'll have our picnic here," she decided. + +The ravine at this point received another little gulch into itself, and +where the two came together the bottom widened out into almost parklike +proportions. On one side was a grass-plot encroached upon by numerous +raspberry vines. On the other was the brook, flowing noisily in the +shade of saplings and of ferns. + +Bennington unsaddled the horses and led them over to the grass-plot, +where he picketed them securely in such a manner that they could not +become entangled. When he returned to the brookside he found that Mary +had undone her bundle and spread out its contents. There were various +utensils, some corn meal, coffee, two slices of ham, raw potatoes, a +small bottle of milk, some eggs wonderfully preserved by moss inside +the pail, and some bread and cake. Bennington eyed all this in dismay. +She caught his look and laughed. + +"Can't you cook? Well, I can; you just obey orders." + +"We won't get anything to eat before night," objected Bennington +dolefully as he looked over the decidedly raw material. + +"And he's _so_ hungry!" she teased. "Never mind, you build a fire." + +Bennington brightened. He had one outdoor knack--that of lighting +matches in a wind and inducing refractory wood to burn. His skill had +often been called into requisition in the igniting of beach fires, and +the so-called "camp fires" of girls. He collected dry twigs from the +sunny places, cut slivers with his knife, built over the whole a +wigwam-shaped pyramid of heavier twigs, against which he leaned his +firewood. Then he touched off the combination. The slivers ignited the +twigs, the twigs set fire to the wigwam, the wigwam started the +firewood. Bennington's honour was vindicated. He felt proud. + +Mary, who had been filling the coffee pot at the creek, approached and +viewed the triumph. She cast upon it the glance of scorn. + +"That's no cooking fire," said she. + +So Bennington, under her directions, placed together the two parallel +logs with the hewn sides and built the small bright fire between them. + +"Now you see," she explained, "I can put my frying pan, and coffee pot, +and kettle across the two logs. I can get at them easy, and don't burn +my fingers. Now you may peel the potatoes." + +The Easterner peeled potatoes under constant laughing amendment as to +method. Then the small cook collected her materials about her, in grand +preparation for the final rites. She turned back the loose sleeves of +her blouse to the elbow. + +This drew an exclamation from Bennington. + +"Why, Mary, how white your arms are!" he cried, astonished. + +She surveyed her forearm with a little blush, turning it back and +forth. + +"I _am_ pretty tanned," she agreed. + +The coffee pot was filled and placed across the logs at one end, and +left to its own devices a little removed from the hottest of the fire. +The kettle stood next, half filled with salted water, in which nestled +the potatoes like so many nested eggs. Mary mixed a mysterious +concoction of corn meal, eggs, butter, and some white powder, mushing +the whole up with milk and water. The mixture she spread evenly in the +bottom of the frying pan, which she set in a warm place. + +"It isn't much of a baking tin," she commented, eyeing it critically, +"but it'll do." + +Under her direction Bennington impaled the two slices of ham on long +green switches, and stuck these upright in the ground in such a +position that the warmth from the flames could just reach them. + +"They'll never cook there," he objected. + +"Didn't expect they would," she retorted briefly. Then relenting, +"They finish better if they're warmed through first," she explained. + +By this time the potatoes were bubbling energetically and the coffee +was sending out a fragrant steam. Mary stabbed experimentally at the +vegetables with a sharpened sliver. Apparently satisfied, she drew back +with a happy sigh. She shook her hair from her eyes and smiled across +at Bennington. + +"Ready! Go!" cried she. + +The frying pan was covered with a tin plate on which were heaped live +coals. More coals were poked from between the logs on to a flat place, +were spread out thin, and were crowned by the frying pan and its +glowing freight. Bennington held over the fire a switch of ham in each +hand, taking care, according to directions, not to approach the actual +blaze. Mary borrowed his hunting knife and disappeared into the +thicket. In a moment she returned with a kettle-lifter, improvised very +simply from a forked branch of a sapling. One of the forks was left +long for the hand, the other was cut short. The result was like an +Esquimaux fishhook. She then relieved Bennington of his task, while +that young man lifted the kettle from the fire and carefully drained +away the water. + +"Dinner!" she called gaily. + +Bennington looked up surprised. He had been so absorbed in the spells +wrought by this dainty woods fairy that he had forgotten the flight of +time. It was enough for him to watch the turn of her wrist, the swift +certainty of her movements, to catch the glow lit in her face by the +fire over which she bent. Then he suddenly remembered that her +movements had all along tended toward dinner, and were not got up +simply and merely that he might discover new charms in the small +housekeeper. + +He found himself seated on a rock with a tin plate in his lap, a tin +cup at his side, and an eager little lady in front of him, anxious that +he should taste all her dishes and deliver an opinion forthwith. + +The coffee he pronounced nectar; the ham and mealy potatoes, delicious; +the "johnny-cake" of a yellow golden crispness which the originator of +johnny-cake might envy; and the bread and cake and butter and sugar +only the less meritorious that they had not been prepared by her own +hands and on the spot. + +"And see!" she cried, clapping her hands, "the sun is still directly +over us. It is not night yet, silly boy!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +AND HE DID EAT + + +After the meal he wanted to lie down in the grasses and watch the +clouds sail by, but she would have none of it. She haled him away to +the brookside. There she showed him how to wash dishes by filling them +half full of water in which fine gravel has been mixed, and then +whirling the whole rapidly until the tin is rubbed quite clean. Never +was prosaic task more delightful. They knelt side by side on the bank, +under the dense leaves, and dabbled in the water happily. The ferns +were fresh and cool. Once a redbird shot confidently down from above on +half-closed wing, caught sight of these intruders, brought up with a +swish of feathers, and eyed them gravely for some time from a +neighbouring treelet. Apparently he was satisfied with his inspection, +for after a few minutes he paid no further attention to them, but went +about his business quietly. When the dishes had been washed, Mary +stood over Bennington while he packed them in the bundle and strapped +them on the saddle. + +"Now," said she at last, "we have nothing more to think of until we go +home." + +She was like a child, playing with exhaustless spirits at the most +trivial games. Not for a moment would she listen to anything of a +serious nature. Bennington, with the heavier pertinacity of men when +they have struck a congenial vein, tried to repeat to some extent the +experience of the last afternoon at the rock. Mary laughed his +sentiment to ridicule and his poetics to scorn. Everything he said she +twisted into something funny or ridiculous. He wanted to sit down and +enjoy the calm peace of the little ravine in which they had pitched +their temporary camp, but she made a quiet life miserable to him. At +last in sheer desperation he arose to pursue, whereupon she vanished +lightly into the underbrush. A moment later he heard her clear laugh +mocking him from some elder thickets a hundred yards away. Bennington +pursued with ardour. It was as though a slow-turning ocean liner were +to try to run down a lively little yacht. + +Bennington had always considered girls as weak creatures, incapable of +swift motion, and needing assistance whenever the country departed from +the artificial level of macadam. He had also thought himself fairly +active. He revised these ideas. This girl could travel through the thin +brush of the creek bottom two feet to his one, because she ran more +lightly and surely, and her endurance was not a matter for discussion. +The question of second wind did not concern her any more than it does a +child, whose ordinary mode of progression is heartbreaking. Bennington +found that he was engaged in the most delightful play of his life. He +shouted aloud with the fun of it. He had the feeling that he was +grasping at a sunbeam, or a mist-shape that always eluded him. + +He would lose her utterly, and would stand quite motionless, listening, +for a long time. Suddenly, without warning, an exaggerated leaf crown +would fall about his neck, and he would be overwhelmed with ridicule at +the outrageous figure he presented. Then for a time she seemed +everywhere at once. The mottled sunlight under the trees danced and +quivered after her, smiling and darkening as she dimpled or was grave. +The little whirlwinds of the gulches seized the leaves and danced with +her too, the birches and aspens tossed their hands, and rising ever +higher and wilder and more elf-like came the mocking cadences of her +laughter. + +After a time she disappeared again. Bennington stood still, waiting for +some new prank, but he waited in vain. He instituted a search, but the +search was fruitless. He called, but received no reply. At last he made +his way again to the dell in which they had lunched, and there he found +her, flat on her back, looking at the little summer clouds through +wide-open eyes. + +Her mood appeared to have changed. Indeed that seemed to be +characteristic of her; that her lightness was not so much the lightness +of thistle down, which is ever airy, the sport of every wind, but +rather that of the rose vine, mobile and swaying in every breeze, yet +at the same time rooted well in the wholesome garden earth. She cared +now to be silent. In a little while Bennington saw that she had fallen +asleep. For the first time he looked upon her face in absolute repose. + +Feature by feature, line by line, he went over it, and into his heart +crept that peculiar yearning which seems, on analysis, half pity for +what has past and half fear for what may come. It is bestowed on little +children, and on those whose natures, in spite of their years, are +essentially childlike. For this girl's face was so pathetically young. +Its sensitive lips pouted with a child's pout, its pointed chin was +delicate with the delicacy that is lost when the teeth have had often +to be clenched in resolve; its cheek was curved so softly, its long +eyelashes shaded that cheek so purely. Yet somewhere, like an +intangible spirit which dwelt in it, unseen except through its littlest +effects, Bennington seemed to trace that subtle sadness, or still more +subtle mystery, which at times showed so strongly in her eyes. He +caught himself puzzling over it, trying to seize it. It was most like a +sorrow, and yet like a sorrow which had been outlived. Or, if a +mystery, it was as a mystery which was such only to others, no longer +to herself. The whole line of thought was too fine-drawn for +Bennington's untrained perceptions. Yet again, all at once, he realized +that this very fact was one of the girl's charms to him; that her mere +presence stirred in him perceptions, intuitions, thoughts--yes, even +powers--which he had never known before. He felt that she developed +him. He found that instead of being weak he was merely latent; that now +the latent perceptions were unfolding. Since he had known her he had +felt himself more of a man, more ready to grapple with facts and +conditions on his own behalf, more inclined to take his own view of the +world and to act on it. She had given him independence, for she had +made him believe in himself, and belief in one's self is the first +principle of independence. Bennington de Laney looked back on his old +New York self as on a being infinitely remote. + +She awoke and opened her eyes slowly, and looked at him without +blinking. The sun had gone nearly to the ridge top, and a Wilson's +thrush was celebrating with his hollow notes the artificial twilight +of its shadow. + +She smiled at him a little vaguely, the mists of sleep clouding her +eyes. It is the unguarded moment, the instant of awakening. At such an +instant the mask falls from before the features of the soul. I do not +know what Bennington saw. + +"Mary, Mary!" he cried uncontrolledly, "I love you! I love you, girl." + +He had never before seen any one so vexed. She sat up at once. + +"Oh, _why_ did you have to say that!" she cried angrily. "Why did you +have to spoil things! Why couldn't you have let it go along as it was +without bringing _that_ into it!" + +She arose and began to walk angrily up and down, kicking aside the +sticks and stones as she encountered them. + +"I was just beginning to like you, and now you do this. _Oh_, I am so +angry!" She stamped her little foot. "I thought I had found a man for +once who could be a good friend to me, whom I could meet unguardedly, +and behold! the third day he tells me this!" + +"I am sorry," stammered Bennington, his new tenderness fleeing, +frightened, into the inner recesses of his being. "I beg your pardon, I +didn't know--_Don't_! I won't say it again. Please!" + +The declaration had been manly. This was ridiculously boyish. The girl +frowned at him in two minds as to what to do. + +"Really, truly," he assured her. + +She laughed a little, scornfully. "Very well, I'll give you one more +chance. I like you too well to drop you entirely." (What an air of +autocracy she took, to be sure!) "You mustn't speak of that again. And +you must forget it entirely." She lowered at him, a delicious picture +of wrath. + +They saddled the horses and took their way homeward in silence. The +tenderness put out its flower head from the inner sanctuary. Apparently +the coast was clear. It ventured a little further. The evening was very +shadowy and sweet and musical with birds. The tenderness boldly invaded +Bennington's eyes, and spoke, oh, so timidly, from his lips. + +"I will do just as you say," it hesitated, "and I'll be very, very +good indeed. But am I to have no hope at all?" + +"Why can't you keep off that standpoint entirely?" + +"Just that one question; then I will." + +"Well," grudgingly, "I suppose nothing on earth could keep the average +mortal from hoping; but I can't answer that there is any ground for +it." + +"When can I speak of it again?" + +"I don't know--after the Pioneer's Picnic." + +"That is when you cease to be a mystery, isn't it?" + +She sighed. "That is when I become a greater mystery--even to myself, I +fear," she added in a murmur too low for him to catch. + +They rode on in silence for a little space more. The night shadows were +flowing down between the trees like vapour. The girl of her own accord +returned to the subject. + +"You are greatly to be envied," she said a little sadly, "for you are +really young. I am old, oh, very, very old! You have trust and +confidence. I have not. I can sympathize; I can understand. But that +is all. There is something within me that binds all my emotions so fast +that I can not give way to them. I want to. I wish I could. But it is +getting harder and harder for me to think of absolutely trusting, in +the sense of giving out the self that is my own. Ah, but you are to be +envied! You have saved up and accumulated the beautiful in your nature. +I have wasted mine, and now I sit by the roadside and cry for it. My +only hope and prayer is that a higher and better something will be +given me in place of the wasted, and yet I have no right to expect it. +Silly, isn't it?" she concluded bitterly. + +Bennington made no reply. + +They drew near the gulch, and could hear the mellow sound of bells as +the town herd defiled slowly down it toward town. + +"We part here," the young man broke the long silence. "When do I see +you again?" + +"I do not know." + +"To-morrow?" + +"No." + +"Day after?" + +The girl shook herself from a reverie. "If you want me to believe you, +come every afternoon to the Rock, and wait. Some day I will meet you +there." + +She was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +OLD MIZZOU RESIGNS + + +Bennington went faithfully to the Rock for four days. During whole +afternoons he sat there looking out over the Bad Lands. At sunset he +returned to camp. _Aliris: A Romance of all Time_ gathered dust. +Letters home remained unwritten. Prospecting was left to the capable +hands of Old Mizzou until, much to Bennington's surprise, that +individual resigned his position. + +The samples lay in neatly tied coffee sacks just outside the door. The +tabulations and statistics only needed copying to prepare them for the +capitalist's eye. The information necessary to the understanding of +them reposed in a grimy notebook, requiring merely throwing into shape +as a letter to make them valuable to the Eastern owner of the property. +Anybody could do that. + +Old Mizzou explained these things to Bennington. + +"You-all does this jes's well's I," he said. "You expresses them +samples East, so as they kin assay 'em; an' you sends them notes and +statistics. Then all they is to do is to pay th' rest of the boys when +th' money rolls in. That ain't none of my funeral." + +"But there's the assessment work," Bennington objected. + +"That comes along all right. I aims to live yere in the camp jest th' +same as usual; and I'll help yo' git started when you-all aims to do +th' work." + +"What do you want to quit for, then? If you live here, you may as well +draw your pay." + +"No, sonny, that ain't my way. I has some prospectin' of my own to do, +an' as long as I is a employay of Bishop, I don't like to take his time +fer my work." + +Bennington thought this very high-minded on the part of Old Mizzou. + +"Very well," he agreed, "I'll write Bishop." + +"Oh, no," put in the miner hastily, "no need to trouble. I resigns in +writin', of course; an' I sees to it myself." + +"Well, then, if you'll help me with the assessment work, when shall we +begin?" + +"C'yant jest now," reflected Old Mizzou, "'cause, as I tells you, I +wants to do some work of my own. A'ter th' Pioneer's Picnic, I +reckons." + +The Pioneer's Picnic seemed to limit many things. + +Bennington shipped the ore East, tabulated the statistics, and wrote +his report. About two weeks later he received a letter from Bishop +saying that the assay of the samples had been very poor--not at all up +to expectations--and asking some further information. As to the latter, +Bennington consulted Old Mizzou. The miner said, "I told you so," and +helped on the answer. After this the young man heard nothing further +from his employer. As no more checks came from the East, he found +himself with nothing to do. + +For four afternoons, as has been said, he fruitlessly haunted the Rock. +On the fifth morning he met the girl on horseback. She was quite the +same as at first, and they resumed their old relations as if the fatal +picnic had never taken place. In a very few days they were as intimate +as though they had known each other for years. + +Bennington read to her certain rewritten parts of _Aliris: A Romance of +all Time,_ which would have been ridiculous to any but these two. They +saw it through the glamour of youth; for, in spite of her assertions of +great age, the girl, too, felt the whirl of that elixir in her veins. You +see, he was twenty-one and she was twenty: magic years, more venerable +than threescore and ten. She gave him sympathy, which was just what he +needed for the sake of his self-confidence and development, just the +right thing for him in that effervescent period which is so necessary a +concomitant of growth. The young business man indulges in a hundred wild +schemes, to be corrected by older heads. The young artist paints strange +impressionism, stranger symbolism, and perhaps a strangest other-ism, +before at last he reaches the medium of his individual genius. The young +writer thinks deep and philosophical thoughts which he expresses in +measured polysyllabic language; he dreams wild dreams of ideal motive, +which he sets forth in beautiful allegorical tales full of imagery; and +he delights in Rhetoric--flower-crowned, flashing-eyed, deep-voiced +Rhetoric, whom he clasps to his heart and believes to be true, although +the whole world declares her to be false; and then, after a time, he +decides not to introduce a new system of metaphysics, but to tell a plain +story plainly. Ah, it is a beautiful time to those who dwell in it, and +such a funny time to those who do not! + +They came to possess an influence over each other. She decided how they +should meet; he, how they should act. She had only to be gay, and he +was gay; to be sad, and he was sad; to show her preference for serious +discourse, and he talked quietly of serious things; to sigh for dreams, +and he would rhapsodize. It sometimes terrified her almost when she saw +how much his mood depended on hers. But once the mood was established, +her dominance ceased and his began. If they were sad or gay or +thoughtful or poetic, it was in his way and not in hers. He took the +lead masterfully, and perhaps the more effectually in that it was done +unconsciously. And in a way which every reader will understand, but +which genius alone could put into words, this mutual psychical +dependence made them feel the need of each other more strongly than any +merely physical dependence ever could. + +There is much to do in a new and romantic country, where the imminence +of a sordid, dreary future, when the soil will raise its own people and +the crop will be poor, is mercifully veiled. The future then counts +little in the face of the Past--the Past with its bearded strong men of +other lands, bringing their power and vigour here to be moulded and +directed by the influences of the frontier. Its shadow still lies over +the land. + +They did it all. The Rock was still the favourite place to read or +talk--crossbars nailed on firmly made "shinning" unnecessary now--but +it was often deserted for days while they explored. Bennington had +bought the little bronco, and together they extended their +investigations of the country in all directions. They rode to Spring +Creek Valley. They passed the Range over into Custer Valley. Once they +climbed Harney by way of Grizzly Gulch. + +Thus they grew to know the Hills intimately. From the summit of the +Rock they would often look abroad over the tangle of valleys and +ridges, selecting the objective points for their next expedition. Many +surprises awaited them, for they found that here, as everywhere, a +seemingly uniform exterior covered an almost infinite variety. + +Or again, the horses were given a rest. The sarvis-berries ripened, and +they picked hatfuls. Then followed the raspberries on the stony hills. +They walked four unnecessary miles to see a forest fire, and six to buy +buckskin work from a band of Sioux who had come up into the timber for +their annual supply of tepee poles. They taught their ponies tricks. +They even went wading together, like two small children, in a pool of +Battle Creek. + +Bennington was deliciously, carelessly, forgetfully happy. Only there +was Jim Fay. That individual was as much of a persecution as ever, and +he seemed to enjoy a greater intimacy with the girl than did the +Easterner. He did not see her as often as did the latter, but he +appeared to be more in her confidence. Bennington hated Jim Fay. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE SPIRES OF STONE + + +One afternoon they had pushed over back of Harney, up a very steep +little trail in a very tiny cleft-like cañon, verdant and cool. All at +once the trail had stood straight on end. The ponies scrambled up +somehow, and they found themselves on a narrow open _mesa_ splashed +with green moss and matted with an aromatic covering of pine needles. + +Beyond the easternmost edge of the plateau stood great spires of stone, +a dozen in all, several hundred feet high, and of solid granite. They +soared up grandly into the open blue, like so many cathedral spires, +drawing about them that air of solitude and stillness which accompanies +always the sublime in Nature. Even boundless space was amplified at the +bidding of their solemn uplifted fingers. The girl reined in her horse. + +"Oh!" she murmured in a hushed voice, "I feel impertinent--as though I +were intruding." + +A squirrel many hundreds of feet below could be heard faintly barking. + +"There _is_ something solemn about them," the boy agreed in the same +tone, "but, after all, we are nothing to them. They are thinking their +own thoughts, far above everything in the world." + +She slipped from her horse. + +"Let's sit here and watch them," she said. "I want to look at them, and +_feel_ them." + +They sat on the moss, and stared solemnly across at the great spires of +stone. + +"They are waiting for something there," she observed; "for something +that has not come to pass, and they are looking for it always toward +the East. Don't you see how they are waiting?" + +"Yes, like Indian warriors wrapped each in his blanket. They might be +the Manitous. They say there are lots of them in the Hills." + +"Yes, of course!" she cried, on fire with the idea. "They are the Gods +of the people, and they are waiting for something that is +coming--something from the East. What is it?" + +"Civilization," he suggested. + +"Yes! And when this something, this Civilization, comes, then the +Indians are to be destroyed, and so their Gods are always watching for +it toward the East." + +"And," he went on, "when it comes at last, then the Manitous will have +to die, and so the Indians know that their hour has struck when these +great stone needles fall." + +"Why, we have made a legend," she exclaimed with wonder. + +They stretched out on their backs along the slope, and stared up at the +newly dignified Manitous in delicious silence. + +"There was a legend once, you remember?" he began hesitatingly, "the +first day we were on the Rock together. It was about a Spirit +Mountain." + +"Yes, I remember, the day we saw the Shadow." + +"You said you'd tell it to me some time." + +"Did I?" + +"Don't you think now is a good time?" + +She considered a moment idly. + +"Why, yes, I suppose so," she assented, after a pause. "It isn't much +of a legend though." She clasped her hands back of her head. "It goes +like this," she began comfortably: + +"Once upon a time, when the world was very young, there was an evil +Manitou named _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_. He was a very wicked Manitou, but he +was also very accomplished, for he could change himself into any shape +he wished to assume, and he could travel swifter than the wind. But he +was also very wicked. In old times the centres of all the trees were +fat, and people could get food from them, but _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ walked +through the forest and pushed his staff down through the middle of the +trunks, and that is why the cores of the trees are dark-coloured. Maple +sap used to be pure sirup once, too, but _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ diluted it +with rain water just out of spite. But there was one peculiar thing +about _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_. He could not cross a vein of gold or of silver. +There was some sort of magic in them that turned him back--repelled +him. + +"Now, one day two lovers were wandering about on the prairie away east +of here. One of them was named _Mon-e-dowa_, or the Bird Lover, and the +other was _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_, or Rippling Water. And as these two walked +over the plains talking together, along came the evil spirit, +_Ne-naw-bo-shoo_, and as soon as he saw them he chased them, intending +to kill them and drink their blood, as was his custom. + +"They fled far over the prairie. Everywhere that _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_ +stepped, prairie violets grew up; and everywhere that _Mon-e-dowa_ +stepped, a lark sprang up and began to sing. But the wicked +_Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ gained on them fast, for he could run very swiftly. + +"Then suddenly they saw in front of them a great mountain, grown with +pines and seamed with fissures. This astonished them greatly, for they +knew there were no mountains in the prairie country at all; but they +had no time to spare, so they climbed quickly up a broad cañon and +concealed themselves. + +"Now, when the wicked Manitou came along he tried to enter the cañon +too, but he had to stop, because down in the depths of the mountain +were veins of gold and silver which he could not cross. For many days +he raged back and forth, but in vain. At last he got tired and went +away. + +"Then _Mon-e-dowa_ and _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_, who had been living quite +peacefully on the game with which the mountain swarmed, came out of the +cañon and turned toward home. But as soon as they had set foot on the +level prairie again, the mountain vanished like a cloud, and then they +knew they had been aided by _Man-a-boo-sho_, the good Manitou." + +The girl arose and shook her skirt free of the pine needles that clung +to it. + +"Ever since then," she went on, eyeing Bennington saucily sideways, +"the mountain has been invisible except to a very few. The legend says +that when a maid and a warrior see it together they will be----" + +"What?" asked Bennington as she paused. + +"Dead within the year!" she cried gaily, and ran lightly to her pony. + +"Did you like my legend?" she asked, as the ponies, foot-bunched, +minced down the steepest of the trail. + +"Very much; all but the moral." + +"Don't you want to die?" + +"Not a bit." + +"Then I'll have to." + +"That would be the same thing." + +And Bennington dared talk in this way, for the next day began the +Pioneer's Picnic, and lately she had been very kind. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE PIONEER'S PICNIC + + +The Lawtons were not going to the picnic. Bennington was to take Mary +down to Rapid, where the girl was to stay with a certain Dr. McPherson +of the School of Mines. + +An early start was accomplished. They rode down the gulch through the +dwarf oaks, past the farthermost point, and so out into the hard level +dirt road of Battle Creek cañon. Beyond were the pines, and a rugged +road, flint-edged, full of dips and rises, turns and twists, hovering +on edges, or bosoming itself in deep rock-strewn cuts. Mary's little +pony cantered recklessly through it all, scampering along like a +playful dog after a stone, leading Bennington's larger animal by +several feet. He had full leisure to notice the regular flop of the Tam +o'Shanter over the lighter dance of the hair, the increasing rosiness +of the cheeks dimpled into almost continual laughter, to catch stray +snatches of gay little remarks thrown out at random as they tore along. +After a time they drew out from the shadow of the pines into the +clearing at Rockerville, where the hydraulic "giants" had eaten away +the hill-sides, and left in them ugly unhealed sores. Then more rough +pine-shadowed roads, from which occasionally would open for a moment +broad vistas of endless glades, clear as parks, breathless descents, or +sharp steep cuts at the bottom of which Spring Creek, or as much of it +as was not turned into the Rockerville sluices, brawled or idled along. +It was time for lunch, so they dismounted near a deep still pool and +ate. The ponies cropped the sparse grasses, or twisted on their backs, +all four legs in the air. Squirrels chattered and scolded overhead. +Some of the indigo-coloured jays of the lowlands shot in long level +flight between the trees. The girl and the boy helped each other, +hindered each other, playing here and there near the Question, but +swerving always deliciously just in time. + +After lunch, more riding through more pines. The road dipped strongly +once, then again; and then abruptly the forest ceased, and they found +themselves cantering over broad rolling meadows knee-high with grasses, +from which meadow larks rose in all directions like grasshoppers. Soon +after they passed the canvas "schooners" of some who had started the +evening before. Down the next long slope the ponies dropped cautiously +with bunched feet and tentative steps. Spring Creek was forded for the +last time, another steep grassy hill was surmounted, and they looked +abroad into Rapid Valley and over to the prairie beyond. + +Behind them the Hills lay, dark with the everlasting greenery of the +North--even, low, with only sun-browned Harney to raise its cliff-like +front above the rest of the range. As though by a common impulse they +reined in their horses and looked back. + +"I wonder just where the Rock is?" she mused. + +They tried to guess at its location. + +The treeless ridge on which they were now standing ran like a belt +outside the Hills. They journeyed along its summit until late in the +afternoon, and then all at once found the city of Rapid lying below +them at the mouth of a mighty cañon, like a toy village on fine velvet +brown. + +In the city they separated, Mary going to the McPhersons', Bennington +to the hotel. It was now near to sunset, so it was agreed that +Bennington was to come round the following morning to get her. At the +hotel Bennington spent an interesting evening viewing the pioneers with +their variety of costume, manners, and speech. He heard many good +stories, humorous and blood-curdling, and it was very late before he +finally got to bed. + +The immediate consequence was that he was equally late to breakfast. He +hurried through that meal and stepped out into the street, with the +intention of hastening to Dr. McPherson's for Mary, but this he found +to be impossible because of the overcrowded condition of the streets. +The sports of the day had already begun. From curb to curb the way was +jammed with a dense mass of men, women, and children, through whom he +had to worm his way. After ten feet of this, he heard his name called, +and looking up, caught sight of Mary herself, perched on a dry-goods +box, frantically waving a handkerchief in his direction. + +"You're a nice one!" she cried in mock reproach as he struggled toward +her. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flew red signals of enjoyment. + +Bennington explained. + +"I know. Well, it didn't matter, any way. I just captured this box. +Climb up. There's room. I've lost the doctor and Mrs. McPherson +already." + +Two mounted men, decorated with huge tin marshals' badges, rode slowly +along forcing the crowd back to the right and to the left. The first +horse race was on. Suddenly there was an eager scramble, a cloud of +dust, a swift impression of dim ghostlike figures. It was over. The +crowd flowed into the street again. + +The two pressed together, hand in hand, on the top of the dry-goods +box. They laughed at each other and everything. Something beautiful was +very near to them, for this was the Pioneer's Picnic, and both +remembered that the Pioneer's Picnic marked the limit of many things. + +"What's next? What's next?" she called excitedly to a tall young +cattleman. + +The cowboy looked up at her, and his face relaxed into a pleased smile. + +"Why, it's a drillin' match over in the next street, miss," he answered +politely. "You'd better run right along over and get a good place." He +glanced at de Laney, smiled again, and turned away, apparently to +follow his own advice. + +"Come on, we'll follow him," cried Mary, jumping down. + +"And abandon our box?" objected Bennington. But she was already in full +pursuit of the tall cowboy. + +The ring around the large boulder--dragged by mule team from the +hills--had just begun to form when they arrived, so they were enabled +to secure good places near the front rank, where they kneeled on their +handkerchiefs, and the crowd hemmed them in at the back. The drilling +match was to determine which pair of contestants could in a given +time, with sledge and drill, cut the deepest hole in a granite boulder. +To one who stood apart, the sight must have been picturesque in the +extreme. The white dust, stirred by restless feet, rose lazily across +the heated air. The sun shone down clear and hot with a certain +wide-eyed glare that is seen only in the rarefied atmosphere of the +West. Around the outer edge of the ring hovered a few anxious small +boys, agonized that they were missing part of the show. Stolidly +indifferent Indians, wrapped close in their blankets, smoked silently, +awaiting the next pony race, the riders of which were skylarking about +trying to pull each other from their horses' backs. + +When the last pair had finished, the judges measured the depths of the +holes drilled, and announced the victors. + +The crowd shouted and broke for the saloons. The latter had been plying +a brisk business, so that men were about ready to embrace in +brotherhood or in battle with equal alacrity. + +Suddenly it was the dinner hour. The crowd broke. Bennington and Mary +realized they had been wandering about hand in hand. They directed +their steps toward the McPhersons with the greatest propriety. It was a +glorious picnic. + +The house was gratefully cool and dark after the summer heat out of +doors. The little doctor sat in the darkest room and dissertated +cannily on the strange variety of subjects which a Scotchman can always +bring up on the most ordinary occasions. + +The doctor was not only a learned man, as was evidenced by his position +in the School of Mines and his wonderful collections, but was a scout +of long standing, a physician of merit, and an Indian authority of +acknowledged weight. Withal he was so modest that these things became +known only by implication or hearsay, never by direct evidence. Mrs. +McPherson was not Scotch at all, but plain comfortable American, +redolent of wholesome cleanliness and good temper, and beaming with +kindliness and round spectacles. Never was such a doctor; never was +such a Mrs. McPherson; never was such a dinner! And they brought in +after-dinner coffee in small cups. + +"Ah, ha! Mr. de Laney," laughed the doctor, who had been watching him +with quizzical eye. "We're pretty bad, but we aren't got quite to +savagery yet." + +Bennington hastened to disavow. + +"That's all right," the doctor reassured him; "that's all right. I +didn't wonder at ye in this country, but Mrs. McPherson and mysel' jest +take a wee trip occasionally to keep our wits bright. Isn't it so, Mrs. +Mac?" + +"It is that," said she with a doubtful inner thought as to the +propriety of offering cream. + +"And as for you," went on the doctor dissertatively, "I suppose ye're +getting to be somewhat of a miner yourself. I mind me we did a bit of +assay work for your people the other day--the Crazy Horse, wasn't it? A +good claim I should judge, from the sample, and so I wrote Davidson." + +"When was this?" asked the Easterner, puzzled. + +"The last week." + +"I didn't know he had had any assaying done." + +"O weel," said the doctor comfortably, "it may not have occurred to him +to report yet. It was rich." + +"Mrs. McPherson, let's talk about dresses," called Mary across the +table. "Here we've come down for a _holiday_ and they insist on talking +mining." + +And so the subject was dropped, but Bennington could not get it out of +his mind. Why should Mizzou have had the Crazy Horse assayed without +saying anything about it to him? Why had he not reported the result? +How did it happen that the doctor's assistants had found the ore rich +when the company's assayers East had proved it poor? Why should Mizzou +have it assayed at all, since he was no longer connected with the +company? But, above all, supposing he had done this with the intention +of keeping it secret from Bennington, what possible benefit or +advantage could the old man derive from such an action? + +He puzzled over this. It seemed to still the effervescence of his joy. +He realized suddenly that he had been very careless in a great many +respects. The work had all been trusted to Davidson, while he, often, +had never even seen it. He had been entirely occupied with the girl. He +experienced that sudden sinking feeling which always comes to a man +whom neglected duty wakes from pleasure. + +What was Davidson's object? Could it be that he hoped to "buy in" a +rich claim at a low figure, and to that end had sent poor samples East? +The more he thought of this the more reasonable it seemed. His +resignation was for the purpose of putting him in the position of +outside purchaser. + +He resolved to carry through the affair diplomatically. During the +afternoon he ruminated on how this was to be done. Mary could not +understand his preoccupation. It piqued her. A slight strangeness +sprang up between them which he was too _distrait_ to notice. Finally, +as he tumbled into bed that night, an idea so brilliant came to him +that he sat bolt upright in sheer delight at his own astuteness. + +He would ask Dr. McPherson for a copy of the assays. If his suspicions +were correct, these assays would represent the richest samples. He +would send them at once to Bishop with a statement of the case, in that +manner putting the capitalist on his guard. There was something +exquisitely humorous to him in the idea of thus turning to his own use +the information which Davidson had accumulated for his fraudulent +purposes. He went to sleep chuckling over it. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN + + +The next morning the young man had quite regained his good spirits. The +girl, on the other hand, was rather quiet. + +Dr. McPherson made no objections to furnishing a copy of the assays. +The records, however, were at the School of Mines. He drove down to get +them, and in the interim the two young people, at Mrs. McPherson's +suggestion, went to see the train come in. + +The platform of the station was filled to suffocation. Assuming that +the crowd's intention was to view the unaccustomed locomotive, it was +strange it did not occur to them that the opposite side of the track or +the adjacent prairie would afford more elbow room. They huddled +together on the boards of the platform as though the appearance of the +spectacle depended on every last individual's keeping his feet from the +naked earth. They pushed good-naturedly here and there, expostulating, +calling to one another facetiously, looking anxiously down the +straight, dwindling track for the first glimpse of the locomotive. + +Mary and Bennington found themselves caught up at once into the vortex. +After a few moments of desperate clinging together, they were forced +into the front row, where they stood on the very edge, braced back +against the pressure, half laughing, half vexed. + +The train drew in with a grinding rush. From the step swung the +conductor. Faces looked from the open windows. + +On the platform of one of the last cars stood a young girl and three +men. One of the men was elderly, with white hair and side whiskers. The +other two were young and well dressed. The girl was of our best +patrician type--the type that may know little, think little, say +little, and generally amount to little, and yet carry its negative +qualities with so used an air of polite society as to raise them by +sheer force to the dignity of positive virtues. From head to foot she +was faultlessly groomed. From eye to attitude she was languidly +superior--the impolitic would say bored. Yet every feature of her +appearance and bearing, even to the very tips of her enamelled and +sensibly thick boots, implied that she was of a different class from +the ordinary, and satisfied on "common people" that impulse which +attracts her lesser sisters to the vulgar menagerie. She belonged to +the proper street--at the proper time of day. Any one acquainted with +the species would have known at once that this private-car trip to +Deadwood was to please the prosperous-looking gentleman with the side +whiskers, and that it was made bearable only by the two smooth-shaven +individuals in the background. + +She caught sight of the pair directly in front of her, and raised her +lorgnette with a languid wrist. + +Her stare was from the outside-the-menagerie standpoint. Bennington was +not used to it. For the moment he had the Fifth Avenue feeling, and +knew that he was not properly dressed. Therefore, naturally, he was +confused. He lowered his head and blushed a little. Then he became +conscious that Mary's clear eyes were examining him in a very troubled +fashion. + +Three hours and a half afterward it suddenly occurred to him that she +might have thought he had blushed and lowered his head because he was +ashamed to be seen by this other girl in her company; but it was then +too late. + +The train pulled out. The Westerners at once scattered in all +directions. Half an hour later the choking cloud dusts rose like smoke +from the different trails that led north or south or west to the heart +of the Hills. + +"The picnic is over," he suggested gently at their noon camping place. + +"Yes, thank Heaven!" + +"You remember your promise?" + +"What promise?" + +"That you would explain your 'mystery.'" + +"I've changed my mind." + +A leaf floated slowly down the wind. A raven croaked. The breeze made +the sunbeams waver. + +"Mary, the picnic is over," he repeated again very gently. + +"Yes, yes, yes!" + +"I love you, Mary." + +The raven spread his wings and flew away. + +"Do you love me?" he insisted gently. + +"I want you to come to dinner at our house to-morrow noon." + +"That is a strange answer, Mary." + +"It is all the answer you'll get to-day." + +"Why are you so cross? Is anything the matter?" + +"Nothing." + +"I love you, Mary. I love you, girl. At least I can say that now." + +"Yes, you can say it--now." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A NOON DINNER + + +Bennington did not know what to make of his invitation. At one moment +he told himself it must mean that Mary loved him, and that she wished +him to meet her parents on that account. At the next he tormented +himself with the conviction that she thus merely avoided the issue. +Between these moods he alternated, without being able to abide in +either. He forgot all about Old Mizzou. + +Promptly at noon the following day he turned up the little right-hand +trail for the first time. + +The Lawton house he found, first of all, to be scrupulously neat. It +stood on a knoll, as do most gulch cabins, in order that occasional +freshets might pass below, and the knoll looked as though it had been +clipped with a pair of scissors. Not a crooked little juniper bush was +allowed to intrude its plebeian sprawl among the dignified pines and +the gracefully infrequent bushes. In front of the cabin itself was a +"rockery" of pink quartz, on which were piled elk antlers. The building +was L-shaped, of two low stories, had a veranda with a railing, and +possessed various ornamental wood edgings, all of which were painted. +The whole affair was mathematically squared and correspondingly neat. +Some boxes and pots of flowers adorned the window ledges. + +Bennington's knock was answered by an elderly woman, who introduced +herself at once as Mrs. Lawton. She commenced a voluble and slightly +embarrassed explanation of how "she" would be down in a moment or so, +at the same time leading the way into the parlour. While this +explanation was going forward, Bennington had a good chance to examine +his hostess and her surroundings. + +Mrs. Lawton was of the fat but energetic variety. She fairly shone with +cleanliness and with an insistent determination to keep busy. You could +see that all the time her tongue was uttering polite platitudes +concerning the weather, her mind was hovering like a dragon fly over +this or that flower of domestic economy. She was one of the women who +carry their housekeeping to a perfection uncomfortable both to herself +and everybody else, and then delude themselves into the martyrlike +belief that she is doing it all entirely for others. As a consequence, +she exhibited much of the time an aggrieved air that comported but +ludicrously with her tendency to bustle. And it must be confessed that +in other ways Mrs. Lawton was ludicrous. Her dumpy little form was +dressed in the loudest of prints, the figures of which turned her into +a huge flower bed of brilliant cabbage-like blooms. Over this chaos of +colours peered her round little face with its snapping eyes. She +discoursed in sentences which began coherently, but frayed out soon +into nothingness under the stress of inner thought. "I don't see where +that husban' of mine is. I reckon you'll think we're just awful rude, +Mr. de Laney, and that gal, an' Maude. I declare it's jest enough to +try any one's patience, it surely is. You've no idea, Mr. de Laney, +what with the hens settin', and this mis'able dry spell that sends th' +dust all over everything and every one 'way behin' hand on +everythin'----" Her eye was becoming vacant as she wondered about +certain biscuits. + +"I'm sure it must be," agreed Bennington uncomfortably. + +"What was I a-sayin'? You must excuse me, Mr. de Laney, but you, being +a man, can have no idea of the life us poor women folks lead, slavin' +our very lives away to keep things runnin', and then no thanks fer it +a'ter all. I'd just like t' see Bill Lawton try it _fer jest one week_. +He'd be a ravin' lunatic, an' thet I tell him often. This country's +jest awful, too. I tell him he must get out sometimes, and I 'spect he +will, when he's made his pile, poor man, an' then we'll have a chanst +to go back East again. When we lived East, Mr. de Laney, we had a +house--not like this little shack; a good house with nigh on to a dozen +rooms, and I had a gal to help me and some chanst to buy things once in +a while, but now that Bill Lawton's moved West, what's goin' to become +o' me I don't know. I'm nigh wore out with it all." + +"Then you lived East once?" asked Bennington. + +"Law, yes! We lived in Illinoy once, and th' Lord only knows I wisht we +lived there yet, though the farmin' was a sight of work and no pay +sometimes." The inner doubts as to the biscuits proved too much for +her. "Heaven knows, you ain't t' git much to eat," she cried, jumping +up, "but you ain't goin' to git anythin' a tall if I don't run right +off and tend to them biscuit." + +She bustled out. Bennington had time then to notice the decorations of +the "parlour." They offered to the eye a strange mixture of the East +and West--reminiscences of the old home in "Illinoy" and trophies of +the new camping-out on the frontier. From the ceiling hung a heavy lamp +with prismatic danglers, surrounded by a globe on which were depicted +stags in the act of leaping six-barred gates. By way of complement to +this gorgeous centrepiece, the paper on the walls showed, in infinitely +recurring duplicate, a huntress in green habit and big hat carrying on +a desperate flirtation with a young man in the habiliments of the +fifteenth century, while across the background a huddle of dogs pursued +a mammoth deer. Mathematically beneath the lamp stood a table covered +with a red-figured spread. On the table was a glass bell, underneath +which were wax flowers and a poorly-stuffed robin. In one angle of the +room austerely huddled a three-cornered "whatnot" of four shelves. Two +china pugs and a statuette of a simpering pair of children under a +massive umbrella adorned this article of furniture. On the wall ticked +an old-fashioned square wooden clock. The floor was concealed by a rag +carpet. So much for the East. The West contributed brilliant green +copper ore, flaky white tin ore, glittering white quartz ore, shining +pyrites, and one or two businesslike specimens of oxygenated quartz, +all of which occupied points of exhibit on the "whatnot." Over the +carpet were spread a deer skin, and a rug made from the hide of a +timber wolf. Bennington found all this interesting but depressing. He +was glad when Mrs. Lawton returned and took up her voluble discourse. + +In the midst of a dissertation on the relation of corn meal to eggs +the door opened, and Mr. Lawton sidled in. + +"Oh, here y' are at last!" observed his spouse scornfully, and rattled +on. Lawton nodded awkwardly, and perched himself on the edge of a +chair. He had assumed an ill-fitting suit of store clothes, in which he +unaccustomedly writhed, and evidently, to judge from the sleekness of +his hair, had recently plunged his head in a pail of water. He said +nothing, but whenever Mrs. Lawton was not looking he winked elaborately +and solemnly at Bennington as though to imply that circumstances alone +prevented any more open show of cordiality. At last, catching the young +man's eye at a more than usually propitious moment, he went through the +pantomime of opening a bottle, then furtively arose and disappeared. +Mrs. Lawton, remembering her cakes, ran out. Bennington was left alone +again. He had not spoken six words. + +The door slowly opened, and another member of the family sidled in. +Bennington owned a helpless feeling that this was a sort of show, and +that these various actors in it were parading their entrances and +their exits before him. Or that he himself were the object of +inspection on whom the others were satisfying their own curiosity. + +The newcomer was a child, a little girl about eight or ten years old. +Bennington liked children as a usual thing. No one on earth could have +become possessed in this one's favour. She was a creature of regular +but mean features, extreme gravity, and evidently of an inquiring +disposition. On seeing her for the first time, one sophisticated would +have expected a deluge of questions. Bennington did. But she merely +stood and stared without winking. + +"Hullo, little girl!" Bennington greeted her uneasily. + +The creature only stared the harder. + +"My doll's name is Garnet M-a-ay," she observed suddenly, with a +long-drawn nasal accent. + +After this interesting bit of information another silence fell. + +"What is your name, little girl?" Bennington asked desperately at +last. + +"Maude," remarked the phenomenon briefly. + +This statement she delivered in that whining tone which the extremely +self-conscious infant imagines to indicate playful childishness. She +approached. + +"D' you want t' see my picters?" she whimpered confidingly. + +Bennington expressed his delight. + +For seven geological ages did he gaze upon cheap and horrible woodcuts +of gentlemen in fashionable raiment trying to lean against +conspicuously inadequate rustic gates; equally fashionable ladies, with +flat chests, and rat's nest hair; and animals whose attitudes denoted +playful sportiveness of disposition. Each of these pictures was +explained in minute detail. Bennington's distress became apathy. Mrs. +Lawton returned from the cakes presently, yet her voice seemed to break +in on the duration of centuries. + +"Now, Maude!" she exclaimed, with a proper maternal pride, "you mustn't +be botherin' the gentleman." She paused to receive the expected +disclaimer. It was made, albeit a little weakly. "Maude is very good +with her Book," she explained. "Miss Brown, that's the school teacher +that comes over from Hill Town summers, she says Maude reads a sight +better than lots as is two or three years older. Now how old would you +think she was, Mr. de Laney?" + +Mr. de Laney tried to appraise, while the object hung her head +self-consciously and twisted her feet. He had no idea of children's +ages. + +"About eleven," he guessed, with an air of wisdom. + +"Jest eight an' a half!" cried the dame, folding her hands +triumphantly. She let her fond maternal gaze rest on the prodigy. +Suddenly she darted forward with extraordinary agility for one so well +endowed with flesh, and seized her offspring in relentless grasp. + +"I do declare, Maude Eliza!" she exclaimed in horror-stricken tones, +"you ain't washed your ears! You come with me!" + +They disappeared in a blue mist of wails. + +As though this were his cue, the crafty features of Lawton appeared +cautiously in the doorway, bestowed a furtive and searching inspection +on the room, and finally winked solemnly at its only occupant. A hand +was inserted. The forefinger beckoned. Bennington arose wearily and +went out. + +Lawton led the way to a little oat shed standing at some distance from +the house. Behind this he paused. From beneath his coat he drew a round +bottle and two glass tumblers. + +"No joke skippin' th' ole lady," he chuckled in an undertone. He poured +out a liberal portion for himself, and passed the bottle along. +Bennington was unwilling to hurt the old fellow's feelings after he had +taken so much trouble on his account, but he was equally unwilling to +drink the whisky. So he threw it away when Lawton was not looking. + +They walked leisurely toward the house, Lawton explaining various +improvements in a loud tone of voice, intended more to lull his wife's +suspicions than to edify the young man. The lady looked on them +sternly, and announced dinner. At the table Bennington found Mary +already seated. + +The Easterner was placed next to Mrs. Lawton. At his other hand was +Maude Eliza. Mary sat opposite. Throughout the meal she said little, +and only looked up from her plate when Bennington's attention was +called another way. + +Her mere presence, however, seemed to open to the young man a different +point of view. He found Mrs. Lawton's lengthy dissertations amusing; he +considered Mr. Lawton in the light of a unique character, and Maude +Eliza, while as disagreeable as ever, came in for various excuses and +explanations on her own behalf in the young man's mind. He became more +responsive. He told a number of very good stories, at which the others +laughed. He detailed some experiences of his own at places in the world +far remote, selected, it must be confessed, with some slight reference +to their dazzling effect on the company. Without actually "showing +off," he managed to get the effect of it. The result of his efforts was +to harmonize to some extent these diverse elements. Mrs. Lawton became +more coherent, Mr. Lawton more communicative; Maude Eliza stopped +whining--occasionally and temporarily. Bennington had rarely been in +such high spirits. He was surprised himself, but then was not that day +of moment to him, and would he not have been a strange sort of +individual to have seen in the world aught but brightness? + +But Mary responded not at all. Rather, as Bennington arose, she fell, +until at last she hardly even moved in her place. + +"Chirk up, chirk up!" cried Mrs. Lawton gaily, for her. "I know some +one who ought to be happy, anyhow." She glanced meaningly from one to +the other and laughed heartily. + +Bennington felt a momentary disgust at her tactlessness, but covered it +with some laughing sally of his own. The meal broke up in great good +humour. Mrs. Lawton and Maude Eliza remained to clear away the dishes. +Mr. Lawton remarked that he must get back to work, and shook hands in +farewell most elaborately. Bennington laughingly promised them all that +he would surely come again. Then he escaped, and followed Mary up the +hill, surmising truly enough that she had gone on toward the Rock. He +thought he caught a glimpse of her through the elders. He hastened his +footsteps. At this he stumbled slightly. From his pocket fell a letter +he had received that morning. He picked it up and looked at it idly. + +It was from his mother and covered a number of closely-written pages. +As he was about to thrust it back into his pocket a single sentence +caught his eye. It read: "Sally Ogletree gave a supper last week, which +was a very pretty affair." + +He stopped short on the trail, and the world seemed to go black around +him. He almost fell. Then resumed his way, but step now was hesitating +and slow, and he walked with his eyes bent thoughtfully on the ground. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +NOBLESSE OBLIGE + + +The thought which caused Bennington de Lane so suddenly look grave was +suggested by the sentence in his mother's letter. For the first time he +realized that these people, up to now so amusing, were possibly +destined to come into intimate relations with himself. Old Bill Lawton +was Mary's father; while Mrs. Lawton was Mary's mother; Maude was +Mary's sister. + +The next instant a great rush of love into his heart drove this feeling +from it. What matter anything, provided she loved him and he loved her? +Generous sentiment so filled him that there was room for nothing else. +He even experienced dimly in the depths of his consciousness, a faint +pale joy that in thus accepting what was disagreeable to his finer +sensibilities, he was proving more truly to his own self the +boundlessness of his love. For the moment he was exalted by this +instant revulsion against anything calculating in his passion. And +then slowly, one by one, the objections stole back, like a flock of +noisome sombre creatures put to flight by a sudden movement, but now +returning to their old nesting places. The very unassuming method of +their recurrence lent them an added influence. Almost before Bennington +knew it they had established a case, and he found himself face to face +with a very ugly problem. + +Perhaps it will be a little difficult for the average and democratic +reader to realize fully the terrible proportions of this problem. We +whose lives assume little, require little of them. Intangible +objections to the desires of our hearts do not count for much against +their realization; there needs the rough attrition of reality to turn +back our calm, complacent acquisition of that which we see to be for +our best interest in the emotional world. Claims of ancestry mean +nothing. Claims of society mean not much more. Claims of wealth are +considered as evanescent among a class of men who, by their efforts and +genius, are able to render absolute wealth itself an evanescent +quality. When one of us loves, he questions the worth of the object of +his passion. That established, nothing else is of great importance. +There is a grand and noble quality in this, but it misses much. About +the other state of affairs--wherein the woman's appurtenances of all +kinds, as well as the woman herself, are significant--is a delicate and +subtle aura of the higher refinement--the long refinement of the spirit +through many generations--which, to an eye accustomed to look for +gradations of moral beauty, possesses a peach-blow iridescence of its +own. From one point of view, the old-fashioned forms of thought and +courtesy are stilted and useless. From another they retain still the +lofty dignity of _noblesse oblige_. + +So we would have none set down Bennington de Laney as a prig or a snob +because he did not at once decide for his heart as against his +aristocratic instincts. Not only all his early education, but the life +lessons of many generations of ancestors had taught him to set a +fictitious value on social position. He was a de Laney on both sides. +He had never been allowed to forget it. A long line of forefathers, +proud-eyed in their gilded frames, mutely gazed their sense of the +obligations they had bequeathed to this last representative of their +race. When one belongs to a great family he can not live entirely for +himself. His disgrace or failure reflects not alone on his own +reputation, but it sullies the fair fame of men long dead and buried; +and this is a dreadful thing. For all these old Puritans and Cavaliers, +these knights and barons, these king's councillors and scholars, have +perchance lived out the long years of their lives with all good intent +and purpose and with all earnestness of execution, merely that they +might build and send down to posterity this same fair fame. It is a +bold man, or a wicked man, who will dare lightly to bring the efforts +of so many lives to naught! In the thought of these centuries of +endeavour, the sacrifice of mere personal happiness does not seem so +great an affair after all. The Family Name has taken to itself a soul. +It is a living thing. It may be worked for, it may be nourished by +affection, it may even be worshipped. Men may give their lives to it +with as great a devotion, with as exalted a sense of renunciation, and +as lofty a joy in that renunciation, as those who vow allegiance to St. +Francis or St. Dominic. The tearing of the heart from the bosom often +proves to be a mortal hurt when there is nothing to put in the gap of +its emptiness. Not so when a tradition like this may partly take its +place. + +These, and more subtle considerations, were the noblest elements of +Bennington de Laney's doubts. But perhaps they were no more potent than +some others which rushed through the breach made for them in the young +man's decision. + +He had always lived so much at home that he had come to accept the home +point of view without question. That is to say, he never examined the +value of his parent's ideas, because it never occurred to him to doubt +them. He had no perspective. + +In a way, then, he accepted as axioms the social tenets held by his +mother, or the business methods practised by his father. He believed +that elderly men should speak precisely, and in grammatical, but +colourless English. He believed also that people should, in society, +conduct themselves according to the fashion-plate pattern designed by +Mrs. de Laney. He believed these things, not because he was a fool, or +shallow, or lacking in humour, or snobbish, but because nothing had +ever happened to cause him to examine his beliefs closely, that he +might appreciate what they really were. One of these views was, that +cultured people were of a class in themselves, and could not and should +not mix with other classes. Mrs. de Laney entertained a horror of +vulgarity. So deep-rooted was this horror that a remote taint of it was +sufficient to thrust forever outside the pale of her approbation any +unfortunate who exhibited it. She preferred stupidity to common sense, +when the former was allied with good form, and the latter only with +plain kindliness. This was partly instinct and partly the result of +cultivation. She would shrink, with uncontrollable disgust, from any of +the lower classes with whom she came unavoidably in contact. A slight +breach of the conventions earned her distrust of one of her own caste. +As this personal idiosyncrasy fell in line with the de Laney pride, it +was approved by the head of the family. Under encouragement it became +almost a monomania. + +Bennington pictured to himself only too vividly the effect of the +Lawtons on this lady's aristocratic prejudices. He knew, only too well, +that Bill Lawton's table manners would not be allowed even in her +kitchen. He could imagine Mrs. Lawton's fatuous conversation in the de +Laney's drawing-room, or Maude Eliza's dressed-up self-consciousness. +The experience of having the three Westerners to dinner just once +would, Bennington knew, drive his lady mother to the verge of nervous +prostration--he remembered his father's one and only experience in +bringing business connections home to lunch--; his imagination failed +to picture the effect of her having to endure them as actual members of +the family! As if this were not bad enough, his restless fancy carried +him a step farther. He perceived the agonies of shame and +mortification, real even though they were conventional, she would have +to endure in the face of society. That the de Laneys, social leaders, +rigid in respectability, should be forced to the humiliation of +acknowledging a misalliance, should be forced to the added humiliation +of confessing that this marriage was not only with a family of inferior +social standing, but with one actually unlettered and vulgar! +Bennington knew only too well the temper of his mother--and of society. + +It would not be difficult to expand these doubts, to amplify these +reasons, and even to adduce others which occurred to the unhappy young +man as he climbed the hill. But enough has been said. Surely the +reader, no matter how removed in sympathy from that line of argument, +must be able now at least to sympathize, to perceive that Bennington de +Laney had some reason for thought, some excuse for the tardiness of his +steps as they carried him to a meeting with the girl he loved. + +For he did love her, perhaps the more tenderly that doubts must, +perforce, arise. All these considerations affected not at all his +thought of her. But now, for the first time, Bennington de Laney was +weighing the relative claims of duty and happiness. His happiness +depended upon his love. That his duty to his race, his parents, his +caste had some reality in fact, and a very solid reality in his own +estimation, the author hopes he has shown. If not, several pages have +been written in vain. + +The conflict in his mind had carried him to the Rock. Here, as he +expected, he found Mary already arrived. He ascended to the little +plateau and dropped wearily to the moss. His face had gone very white +in the last quarter of an hour. + +"You see now why I asked you to come to-day," she said without +preliminary. "Now you have seen them, and there is nothing more to +conceal." + +"I know, I know," he replied dully. "I am trying to think it out. I +can't see it yet." + +They took entirely for granted that each knew the subject of the +other's thoughts. The girl seemed much the more self-possessed of the +two. + +"We may as well understand each other," she said quietly, without +emotion. "You have told me a certain thing, and have asked me for a +certain answer. I could not give it to you before without deceiving +you. Now the answer depends on you. I have deceived you in a way," she +went on more earnestly, "but I did not mean to. I did not realize the +difference, truly I didn't, until I saw the girl on the train. Then I +knew the difference between her and me, and between her's and mine. And +when you turned away, I saw that you were her kind, and I saw, too, +that you ought to know everything there was about me. Then you spoke." + +"I meant what I said, too," he interrupted. "You must believe that, +Mary, whatever comes." + +"I was sorry you did," she went on, as though she had not heard him. +Then with just a touch of impatience tingeing the even calm of her +voice, "Oh, why will men insist on saying those things!" she cried. +"The way to win a girl is not thus. He should see her often, without +speaking of love, being everything to her, until at last she finds she +can not live without him." + +"Have I been that to you, Mary? Has it come to that with me?" he asked +wistfully. + +"Heaven help me, I am afraid it has!" she cried, burying her face in +her hands. + +A great gladness leaped up into his face, and died as the blaze of a +fire leaps up and expires. + +"That makes it easier--and harder," he said. "It is bad enough as it +is. I don't know how I can make you understand, dear." + +"I understand more than you think," she replied, becoming calm again, +and letting her hands fall into her lap. "I am going to speak quite +plainly. You love me, Ben--ah, don't I know it!" she cried, with a +sudden burst of passion. "I have seen it in your eyes these many days. +I have heard it in your voice. I have felt it welling out from your +great heart. It has been sweet to me--so sweet! You can not know, no +man ever could know, how that love of yours has filled my soul and my +heart until there was room for nothing else in the whole wide world!" + +"You love me!" he said wonderingly. + +"If I had not known that, do you think I would have endured a moment's +hesitation after you had seen the objectionable features of my life? Do +you think that if I had the slightest doubts of your love, I could now +understand _why_ you hesitate? But I do, and I honour you for it." + +"You love me!" he repeated. + +"Yes, yes, Ben dear, I _do_ love you. I love you as I never thought +to be permitted to love. Do you want to know what I did that second day +on the Rock--the day you first showed me what you really were? The day +you told me of your old home and the great tree? It was all so +peaceful, and tender, and comforting, so sweet and pure, that it rested +me. I felt, here is a man at last who could not misunderstand me, could +not be abrupt, and harsh, and cruel. I said to myself, 'He is not +perfect nor does he expect perfection.' I shut my eyes, and then +something choked me, and the tears came. I cried out loud, 'Oh, to be +what I was, to give again what I have not! O God, give me back my heart +as it once was, and let me love!' Yes, Ben dear, I said 'love.' And +then I was not happy any more all day. But God answered that prayer, +Ben dear, and we do love one another now, and that is why we can look +at things together, and see what is best for us both." + +"You love me!" he exclaimed for the third time. + +"And now, dear, we must talk plainly and calmly. You have seen what my +family is." + +"I don't know, Mary, that I can make you understand at all," began +Bennington helplessly. "I can't express it even to myself. Our people +are so different. My training has been so different. All this sort of +thing means so much to us, and so little to you." + +"I know exactly," she interrupted. "I have read, and I have lived East. +I can appreciate just how it is. See if I can not read your thoughts. +My family is uneducated. If it becomes your family, your own parents +will be more than grieved, and your friends will have little to do with +you. You have also duties toward your family, _as_ a family. Is that +it?" + +"Yes, that _is_ it," answered he, "but there are so many things it does +not say. It seems to me it has come to be a horrible dilemma with me. +If I do what I am afraid is my duty to my family and my people, I will +be unhappy without you forever. And if I follow my heart, then it seems +to me I will wrong myself, and will be unhappy that way. It seems a +choice of just in what manner I will be miserable!" he ended with a +ghastly laugh. + +"And which is the most worth while?" she asked in a still voice. + +"I don't know, I don't know!" he cried miserably. "I must think." + +He looked out straight ahead of him for some time. "Whichever way I +decide," he said after a little, "I want you to know this, Mary: I love +you, and I always will love you, and the fact that I choose my duty, if +I do, is only that if I did not, I would not consider myself worthy +even to look at you." A silence fell on them again. + +"I can not live West," said he again, as though he had been arguing +this point in his mind and had just reached the conclusion of it. "My +life is East; I never knew it until now." He hesitated. "Would +you--that is, could you--I mean, would your family have to live East +too?" + +She caught his meaning and drew herself up, with a little pride in the +movement. + +"Wherever I go, whatever I do, my people must be free to go or do. You +have your duty to your family. I have my duty to mine!" + +He bowed his head quietly in assent. She looked at the struggle +depicted in the lines of his face with eyes in which, strangely enough, +was much pity, but no unhappiness or doubt. Could it be that she was so +sure of the result? + +At last he raised his head slowly and turned to her with an air of +decision. + +"Mary----" he began. + +At that moment there became audible a sudden rattle of stones below the +Rock, and at the same instant a harsh voice broke in rudely upon their +conversation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE CLAIM JUMPERS + + +Bennington instinctively put his finger on his lips to enjoin silence, +and peered cautiously over the edge of the dike. Perhaps he was glad +that this diversion had occurred to postpone even for a short time the +announcement of a decision it had cost him so much to make. Perhaps he +recognised the voice. + +Three men were clambering a trifle laboriously over the broken rocks at +the foot of the dike, swearing a little at their unstable footing, but +all apparently much in earnest in their conversation. Even as +Bennington looked they came to a halt, and then sank down each on a +convenient rock, talking interestedly. One was Old Mizzou, one was the +man Arthur, the third was a stranger whom Bennington had never seen. + +The latter had hardly the air of the country. + +He was a dapper little man dressed in a dark gray bob-tailed cutaway, +and a brown derby hat, which was pushed far back on his head. His face, +however, was keen and alert and brown, all of which characteristics +indicated an active Western life at no very remote day. The words which +had so powerfully arrested Bennington de Laney's attention were +delivered by Old Mizzou to this stranger. + +"Thar!" the old man had said, "ain't that Crazy Hoss Lode 'bout as +good-lookin' a lead as they make 'em?" + +"So, so; so, so;" replied the man in the derby in a high voice. "Your +vein is a fissure vein all right enough, and you've got a good wide +lead. If it holds up in quality, I don't know but what you're right." + +"I shows you them assays of McPherson's, don't I?" argued Mizzou, "an' +any quartz in this kentry that assays twenty-four dollars ain't no ways +cheap." + +This speech was so significantly in line with Bennington's surmise that +he caught his breath and drew back cautiously out of sight, but still +in such a position that he could hear plainly every word uttered by the +group below. The girl was watching him with bright, interested eyes. + +"Listen carefully!" he whispered, bringing his mouth close to her ear. +"I think there's some sort of plot here." + +She nodded ready comprehension, and they settled themselves to hear the +following conversation: + +"I saw the assay," replied the stranger's voice to Mizzou's last +statement, "but who's this McPherson? How do I know the assays are all +right?" + +"Why, he's that thar professer at th' School of Mines," expostulated +Mizzou. + +"Oh, yes!" cried the stranger, as though suddenly enlightened. "If +those are his assays, they're all right. Let's see them again." + +There followed a rustling of papers. + +"Well, I've looked over your layout," went on the stranger after a +moment, "and pretty thoroughly in the last few days. I know what you've +got here. Now what's your proposition?" + +There was a pause. + +"I knows you a good while, Slayton----" began Mizzou, but was +interrupted almost immediately by a third voice, that of Arthur. "The +point is this," said the latter sharply, "Davidson here is in a +position to give you possession of this group o' claims, but he ain't +in a position to appear in th' transaction. How are you goin' to +purtect him an' me so we gets something out of it?" + +"Wait a minute," put in the stranger, "I want to ask a few questions +myself. These claims belong to the Holy Smoke Company now, don't they?" + +"Well, that's the idea." + +"Are either of you the agent of that Company?" + +"Not directly, perhaps." + +"Are you indirectly?" + +"Seems to me you haven't got any call t' look into that, if we +guarantee t' give you good title." + +"How do I know you can give me good title?" + +"Ain't I tellin' you so?" + +"Yes, but why should I believe you?" + +"You shouldn't, unless you've got sense enough to see that we ain't +gettin' you 'way up here, an' we ain't living round these parts a +couple of years on a busted proposition." + +The stranger evidently debated this. + +"How would it be if you took equal shares with me on the claims, your +shares to be paid from the earnings? That would be fair all round. You +would get nothing unless the title was good. I would risk no more than +you did," he suggested. + +"Isn't I tellin' yo' I don't appear a tall in this yere transaction?" +objected Mizzou. + +The stranger laughed a little. + +"I can see through a millstone," he said. "Why don't you old +turtlebacks come out of your shells and play square? You've got some +shady game on here that you're working underhand. Spin your yarn and +I'll tell you what I think of it." + +"How do I know you don't leave us out a'ter we tells you," objected +Mizzou, returning to his original idea. + +"You don't!" answered the stranger impatiently, "you don't! But it +seems to me if you expect to get anything out of a shady transaction, +you've got to risk something." + +"That's right," put in Arthur, "that's right! 'Nuff said! Now, Slayton, +we'll agree to git you full legal control of these yere claims if +you'll develop them at your expense, an' gin Davidson and me a third +interest between us fer our influence. That's our proposition, an' that +goes. If you don't play squar', I knows how t' make ye." + +"Spin your yarn," repeated the stranger quietly. "I'll agree to give +you and Davidson a third interest, _provided_ I take hold of the thing +at all." + +"An' Jack Slayton," put in Mizzou threateningly, "if you don't play us +squar', I swar I'll shoot ye like a dog!" + +"Oh, stow that, Davidson," rejoined the stranger in an irritated voice; +"that rot don't do any good. I know you, and you know me. I never went +back on a game yet, and you know it." + +"I does know it, Jack!" came up Davidson's voice repentantly, "but this +is a big deal, an' y' can't be too careful!" + +"All right, all right," the stranger responded "Now tell us your +scheme. How can you get hold of the property?" + +"By jumping the claims," replied Arthur calmly. There ensued a short +pause. Then: + +"Don't be a fool," exclaimed Slayton with contempt; "this is no hold-up +country. You can't drive a man off his property with a gun." + +"I knows that. These claims can be 'jumped' quiet and legal." + +"How?" + +"They ain't be'n a stroke of assessment work done on 'em since we came. +Th' Company's title's gone long ago. They lost their job last January. +Them claims is open to any one who cares to have 'em." + +The stranger uttered a long whistle. Old Mizzou chuckled cunningly. "I +has charge of them claims from th' time they quits work on 'em 'till +now. They ain't be'n a pick raised on 'em. Anybody could a-jumped 'em +any time since las' January." + +"But how about the Company?" asked Slayton. "How did you fool them?" + +"Oh, I sends 'em bills fer work reg'lar enough! And I didn't throw +away th' money neither!" + +"Yes, that'd be easy enough. But how about the people around here? Why +haven't they jumped the claims long ago?" + +"Wall, I argues about this a-way. These yere gents sees I has charge, +an' they says to themselves, 'Ole Davidson takes care of them +assessment works all right,' an' so they never thinks it's worth while +t' see whether it is done or not." + +"You trusted to their thinking you were performing your duties?" + +"Thet's it." + +"Well, it was a pretty big risk!" + +"Ev'rything t' gain an' nothin' t' lose," quoted Old Mizzou +comfortably. + +"How about this new man the Company has out here--de Laney? Is he in +this deal too?" + +"Oh, him!" said Davidson with vast contempt. "He don' know enough t' +dodge a brick! I tells him th' assessment work is all done. He believes +it, an' never looks t' see. I gets him fooled so easy it's shore +funny." + +"Hold on!" put in Slayton sharply. "I'm not so sure you aren't liable +there somewhere. Of course your failure to do the assessment work while +you were alone here was negligence, but that is all. The Company could +fire you for failing to do your duty, but they couldn't prove any fraud +against you. But when this de Laney came along it changed things." + +"How is that?" + +"Well, you told him the assessment work had been done, in so many +words, didn't you? The Company can prove that you were using your +official information to deceive him for the purposes of fraud. In other +words, you were an officer of the Company, and you deceived another +officer in your official capacity. I don't know but you'd be liable to +a criminal action." + +"Not on your tin-type," said Old Mizzou with confidence. + +"Have you looked it up?" + +"I does better than that. At that point I shore becomes subtle. _I +resigns from th' Company!_ A'ter that I talks assessment work. I tells +him advice, jest as a friend. If he believes th' same, an' it ain't so, +why thet's unfort'nit, but they can't do anythin' t' me. I'm jest an +outsider. He is responsible to th' Company, an' if he wants +information, he ought to go to th' books, and not to frien's who may +deceive him." + +"Davidson, you're a genius!" exclaimed the stranger heartily. + +"I tells you I becomes subtle," acknowledged the old man with just +pride. "But now you sees it ain't delikit that my name appears in th' +case a tall. Folks is so suspicious these yere days, that if I has a +share, and Arthur yere has a share, they says p'rhaps we has this yere +scheme in view right along. But if Slayton gets them lapsed claims by +hisself, Slayton bein' a stranger, they thinks how fortinit that +Slayton is t' git onto it, and they puts pore Ole Mizzou down as +becomin' fergitful in his old age." + +The stranger laughed. + +"It's easy," he remarked. "We get them for nothing, and you can bet +your sweet life I'll push 'em through for all there is in it. Why, +boys, you're rich! You won't have anything more to do the rest of your +mortal days, unless you want to." + +"I ain't seekin' no manual employment," observed Mizzou. + +"I'm willin' to quit work," agreed Arthur. + +"Well, you'll have a chance. Now we better hustle this thing through +lively. We've got to make our discoveries on the quiet so no one will +get on to us." + +"It ain't goin' t' take us long t' tack up them notices, now 't we've +agreed. We kin do th' most on it this evenin'. Jest lay low, that's +all." + +"Ain't de Laney going to get onto us sasshaying off with a lot of +notices?" + +"If he does," remarked Old Mizzou grimly, "I knows a dark hole whar we +retires that young man for th' day! If it comes t' that, though, you +got t' tend to it, Slayton. I ain't showin' in this deal y' know." + +The stranger laughed unpleasantly. + +"You show me the hole and I'll take care of Mr. man," he agreed. He +laughed again. "By the way, it strikes me that fellow's going to run up +against a good deal of tribulation before he gets through." + +"Wall, thet thar Comp'ny ain't goin' to raise his pay when they finds +it out," agreed Mizzou. "Thet Bishop, he gets tolerable anxious 'bout +them assessment works now, and writes frequent. I got a whole bunch of +his letters up t' camp that I keeps for th' good of his health. Ain't +no wise healthy t' worry 'bout business, you know." + +"Wonder th' little idiot didn't miss his mail," growled Arthur. + +"Oh, I coaxes him on with th' letters from his mammy and pappy. They's +harmless enough." + +The three men fell into a discussion of various specimens of quartz +which they took from their pockets, and, after what seemed to be an +interminable time, arose and moved slowly down the hill. + +The girl looked at her companion with wide-open eyes. "Ben!" she +gasped, "what have you done?" + +"Made a fool of myself," he responded curtly. + +"What are you going to do about it?" + +"I don't know." + +He knit his brows deeply. She cast about for an expedient. + +"I wish I knew more about mining!" she cried. "I know there is some way +to get legal possession of a claim by patenting it, but I don't know +how you do it." + +He did not reply. + +"There must be some way out of this," she went on, all alert. "They +haven't done anything yet. Why don't you go down to camp and inquire?" + +"Every man would be in the hills in less than an hour. I couldn't trust +them," he replied brusquely. + +"Oh, I know!" she cried with relief. "You must hunt up Jim. He knows +all about those things, and you could rely on him." + +"Jim? What Jim?" + +"Jim Fay. Oh, that's just it! Run, Ben; go at once; don't wait a +minute!" + +"I want nothing whatever to do with that man," he said deliberately. +"He has insulted me at every opportunity. He has treated me in a manner +that was even more than insulting every time we have met. If I were +dying, and he had but to turn his head toward me to save me, I would +not ask him to do so!" + +"Oh, don't be foolish, Ben!" cried she, wringing her hands in despair. +"Don't let your pride stand in your way! Do you not realize the +disgrace this will be to you--to lose all these rich claims just by +carelessness? Do you realize that it means something to me, for I have +been the reason of that carelessness. I know it! Just this once, forget +all he has done to you. You can trust him. Don't be afraid of that. +Tell him that I sent you, if you don't want to trust him on your own +account----" she broke off. "Where are you going?" she asked anxiously. + +"To do something," he answered, shutting his teeth together with a +snap. + +"Will you see Jim?" she begged, following him to the edge of the Rock +as he swung himself down the tree. + +"No!" he said, without looking back. + +After he disappeared--in the direction of the Holy Smoke camp, as she +noticed--she descended rapidly to the ground and hurried, sobbing +excitedly, away toward Spanish Gulch. She was all alive with distress. +She had never realized until the moment of his failure how much she had +loved this man. Near the village she paused, bathed her eyes in the +brook, and, assuming an air of deliberation and calmness, began making +inquiries as to the whereabouts of Jim Fay. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +BENNINGTON PROVES GAME + + +Bennington de Laney sat on the pile of rocks at the entrance to the +Holy Smoke shaft. Across his knees lay the thirty-calibre rifle. His +face was very white and set. Perhaps he was thinking of his return to +New York in disgrace, of his interview with Bishop, of his inevitable +meeting with a multitude of friends, who would read in the daily papers +the accounts of his incompetence--criminal incompetence, they would +call it. The shadows were beginning to lengthen across the slope of the +hill. Up the gulch cow bells tinkled, up the hill birds sang, and +through the little hollows twilight flowed like a vapour. The wild +roses on the hillside were blooming--late in this high altitude. The +pines were singing their endless song. But Bennington de Laney was +looking upon none of these softer beauties of the Hills. Rather he +watched intently the lower gulch with its flood-wracked, water-twisted +skeleton laid bare. Could it be that in the destruction there figured +forth he caught the symbol of his own condition? That the dreary gloom +of that ruin typified the chaos of sombre thoughts that occupied his +own remorseful mind? If so, the fancy must have absorbed him. The +moments slipped by one by one, the shadows grew longer, the bird songs +louder, and still the figure with the rifle sat motionless, his face +white and still, watching the lower gulch. + +Or could it be that Bennington de Laney waited for some one, and that +therefore his gaze was so fixed? It would seem so. For when the beat of +hoofs became audible, the white face quickened into alertness, and the +motionless figure stirred somewhat. + +The rider came in sight, rising and falling in a steady, unhesitating +lope. He swung rapidly to the left, and ascended the knoll. Opposite +the shaft of the Holy Smoke lode he reined in his bronco and +dismounted. The rider was Jim Fay. + +Bennington de Laney did not move. He looked up at the newcomer with +dull resignation. "He takes it hard, poor fellow!" thought Fay. + +"Well, what's to be done?" asked the Easterner in a strained voice. "I +suppose you know all about it, or you wouldn't be here." + +"Yes, I know all about it," said Fay gently. "You mustn't take it so +hard. Perhaps we can do something. We'll be able to save one or two +claims, any way, if we're quick about it." + +"I've heard something about patenting claims," went on de Laney in the +same strange, dull tones; "could that be done?" + +"No. You have to do five hundred dollars' worth of work, and advertise +for sixty days. There isn't time." + +"That settles it. I don't know what we can do then." + +"Well, that depends. I've come to help do something. We've got to get +an everlasting hustle on us, that's all; and I'm afraid we are +beginning a little behindhand in the race. You ought to have hunted me +up at once." + +"I don't see what there is to do," repeated Bennington thickly. + +"Don't you? The assessment work hasn't been done--that's the idea, +isn't it?--and so the claims have reverted to the Government. They are +therefore open to location, as in the beginning, and that is just what +Davidson and that crowd are going to do to them. Well, they're just as +much open to us. We'll just _jump our own claims!_" + +"What!" cried the Easterner, excited. + +"Well, relocate them ourselves, if that suits you better." + +Bennington's dull eyes began to light up. + +"So get a move on you," went on Fay; "hustle out some paper so we can +make location notices. Under the terms of a relocation, we can use the +old stakes and 'discovery,' so all we have to do is to tack up a new +notice all round. That's the trouble. That gang's got their notices all +written, and I'm afraid they've got ahead of us. Come on!" + +Bennington, who had up to this time remained seated on the pile of +stones, seemed filled with a new and great excitement. He tottered to +his feet, throwing his hands aloft. + +"Thank God! Thank God!" he cried, catching his breath convulsively. + +Fay turned to look at him curiously. "We aren't that much out of the +woods," he remarked; "the other gang'll get in their work, don't you +fret." + +"They never will, they never will!" cried the Easterner exultantly. +"They can't. We'll locate 'em all!" The tears welled over his eyes and +ran down his cheeks. + +"What do you mean?" asked Fay, beginning to fear the excitement had +unsettled his companion's wits. + +"Because they're there!" cried Bennington, pointing to the mouth of the +shaft near which he had been sitting. "Davidson, Slayton, +Arthur--they're all there, and they can't get away! I didn't know what +else to do. I had to do something!" + +Fay cast an understanding glance at the young man's rifle, and sprang +to the entrance of the shaft. As though in direct corroboration of his +speech, Fay could perceive, just emerging from the shadow, the sinister +figure of the man Arthur creeping cautiously up the ladder, evidently +encouraged to an attempt to escape by the sound of the conversation +above. The Westerner snatched his pistol from his holster and +presented it down the shaft. + +"Kindly return!" he commanded in a soft voice. The upward motion of the +dim figure ceased, and in a moment it had faded from view in the +descent. Fay waited a moment. "In five minutes," he announced in louder +tones, "I'm going to let loose this six-shooter down that shaft. I +should advise you gentlemen to retire to the tunnel." He peered down +again intently. A sudden clatter and thud behind him startled him. He +looked around. Bennington had fallen at full length across the stones, +and his rifle, falling, had clashed against the broken ore. + +Fay, with a slight shrug of contempt at such womanish weakness, ran to +his assistance. He straightened the Easterner out and placed his folded +coat under his head. "He'll come around in a minute," he muttered. He +glanced toward the gulch and then back to the shaft. "Can't leave that +lay-out," he went on. He bent over the prostrate figure and began to +loosen the band of his shirt. Something about the boy's clothing +attracted his attention, so, drawing his knife, he deftly and gently +ripped away the coat and shirt. Then he arose softly to his feet and +bared his head. + +"I apologize to you," said he, addressing the recumbent form; "you are +game." + +In the fleshy part of the naked shoulder was a small round hole, +clotted and smeared with blood. + +Jim Fay stooped and examined the wound closely. The bullet had entered +near the point of the shoulder, but a little below, so that it had +merely cut a secant through the curve of the muscle. If it had struck a +quarter of an inch to the left it would have gouged a furrow; a quarter +of an inch beyond that would have caused it to miss entirely. Fay saw +that the hurt itself was slight, and that the Easterner had fainted +more because of loss of blood than from the shock. This determined to +his satisfaction, he moved quickly to the mouth of the shaft. "Way +below!" he cried in a sharp voice, and discharged his revolver twice +down the opening. Then he stole noiselessly away, and ran at speed to +the kitchen of the shack, whence he immediately returned with a pail of +water and a number of towels. He set these down, and again peered down +the shaft. "Way below!" he repeated, and dropped down a sizable chunk +of ore. Apparently satisfied that the prisoners were well warned, he +gave his whole attention to his patient. + +He washed the wound carefully. Then he made a compress of one of the +towels, and bound it with the other two. Looking up, he discovered +Bennington watching him intently. + +"It's all right!" he assured the latter in answer to the question in +his eyes. "Nothing but a scratch. Lie still a minute till I get this +fastened, and you can sit up and watch the rat hole while I get you +some clothes." + +In another moment or so the young man was propped up against an empty +ore "bucket," his shoulder bound, and his hand slung comfortably in a +sling from his neck. + +"There you are," said Jim cheerily. "Now you take my six-shooter and +watch that aggregation till I get back. They won't come out any, but +you may as well be sure." + +He handed Bennington his revolver, and moved off in the direction of +the cabin, whistling cheerfully. The young man looked after him +thoughtfully. Nothing could have been more considerate than the +Westerner's manner, nothing could have been kinder than his prompt +action--Bennington saw that his pony, now cropping the brush near at +hand, was black with sweat--nothing could have been more +straightforward than his assistance in the matter of the claims. And +yet Bennington de Laney was not satisfied. He felt he owed the sudden +change of front to a word spoken in his behalf by the girl. This was a +strange influence she possessed, thus to alter a man's attitude +entirely by the mere voicing of a wish. + +The Westerner returned carrying a loose shirt and a coat, which he drew +entire over the injured shoulder, which left one sleeve empty. + +"I guess that fixes you," said he with satisfaction. + +"Look here," put in Bennington suddenly, "you've been mighty good to me +in all this. If you hadn't come along as you did, these fellows would +have nabbed me sooner or later, and probably I'd have lost the claims +any way. I feel I owe you a lot. But I want you to know before you go +any further that that don't square us. You've had it in for me ever +since I came out here, and you've made it mighty unpleasant for me. I +can't forget that all at once. I want to tell you plainly that, +although I am grateful enough, I know just why you have done all this. +It is because _she_ asked you to. And knowing that, I can't accept what +you do for me as from a friend, for I don't feel friendly toward you in +the least." His face flushed painfully. "I'm not trying to insult you +or be boorish," he said; "I just want you to understand how I feel +about it. And now that you know, I suppose you'd better let the matter +go, although I'm much obliged to you for fixing me up." + +He glanced at his shoulder. + +Fay listened to this speech quietly and with patience. "What do you +intend to do?" he asked, when the other had quite finished. + +"I don't know yet. If you'll say nothing down below--and I'm sure you +will not--I'll contrive some way of keeping this procession down the +hole, and of feeding them, and then I'll relocate the claims myself." + +"With one arm?" + +"Yes, with one arm!" cried Bennington fiercely; "with no arms at all, +if need be!" he broke off suddenly, with the New Yorker's ingrained +instinct of repression. "I beg your pardon. I mean I'll do as well as I +can, of course." + +"How about the woman--Arthur's wife? She'll give you trouble." + +"She has locked herself in her cabin already. I will assist her to +continue the imprisonment." + +Fay laughed outright. "And you expect, with one arm and wounded, to +feed four people, keep them in confinement, and at the same time to +relocate eighteen claims lying scattered all over the hills! Well, +you're optimistic, to say the least." + +"I'll do the best I can," repeated Bennington doggedly. + +"And you won't ask help of a friend ready to give it?" + +"Not as a friend." + +"Well," Fay chuckled, apparently not displeased, "you're an obstinate +young man, or rather a pig-headed young man, but I don't know as that +counts against you. I'll help you out, anyway--if not as a friend, then +as an enemy. You see, I have my marching orders from someone else, and +you haven't anything to do with it." + +Bennington bowed coldly, but his immense relief flickered into his face +in spite of himself. "What should we do first?" he asked formally. + +"Sit here and wait for the kids," responded Jim. + +"Who are the kids?" + +"Friends of mine--trustworthy." + +Jim rearranged Bennington's coverings and lit a pipe. "Tell us about +it," said he. + +"There isn't much to tell. I knew I had to do something, so I just held +them up and made them get down the shaft. I didn't know what I was +going to do next, but I was glad to have them out of the way to get +time to think." + +"Who plugged you?" inquired Fay, motioning with the mouthpiece of his +pipe toward the wounded shoulder. + +"That was Arthur. He had a little gun in his coat pocket and he shot +from inside the pocket. I'd made them drop all the guns they had, I +thought." + +"Did you take a crack at him then?" asked Fay, interested. + +"Oh, no. I just covered him and made him shell out. As a matter of fact +I don't believe any one of them knew I was hit." + +Fay smoked on in silence, glancing from time to time with satisfaction +at the youth opposite. During the passage of these events the day had +not far advanced. The shadow of Harney had not yet reached out to the +edge of the hills. + +"Hullo! The kids!" said Fay suddenly. + +Two pedestrians emerged from the lower gulch and bent their steps +toward the camp. As they came nearer, Bennington, with a gasp of +surprise, recognised the Leslies. + +The sprightly youths were dressed just alike, in knickerbockers and +Norfolk jackets of dark brown plaid, and small college caps to +match--an outfit which Bennington had always believed would attract too +vivid attention in this country. As they came nearer he saw that the +jackets were fitted with pockets of great size. In the pockets were +sketch books and bulging articles. They caught sight of the two figures +on the ore heap simultaneously. + +"Behold our attentive host!" cried Jeems. "He is now in the act of +receiving us with all honour!" + +Bennington's face fairly shone with pleasure at the encounter. "Hullo +fellows! Hullo there!" he cried out delightedly again and again, and +rose slowly to his feet. This disclosed the fact of his injury, and the +brothers ran forward, with real sympathy and concern expressed on their +lively countenances. There ensued a rapid fire of questions and +answers. The Leslies proved to be already familiar with the details of +the attempt to jump the claims, and understood at once Fay's brief +account of the present situation, over which they rejoiced in the +well-known Leslie fashion. They exploded in genuine admiration of +Bennington's adventure, and praised that young man enthusiastically. +Bennington could feel, even before this, that he stood on a different +footing than formerly with these self-reliant young men. They treated +him as familiarly as ever, but with a new respect. The truth is, their +astuteness in reading character, which is as essentially an attribute +of the artistic temperament in black and white as in words and phrases, +had shown them already that their old acquaintance had grown from boy +to man since last they had met. They knew this even before they learned +of its manifestation. So astounding was the change that they gave it +credit, perhaps, for being more thorough than it was. After the +situation had been made plain, Bennington reverted to the +unexpectedness of their appearance. + +"But you haven't told me yet how you happen to be here," he suggested. +"I'd as soon have expected to see Ethel Henry coming up the gulch!" + +"Didn't you get our letters?" cried Bert in astonishment. + +"No, I haven't received any letters. Did you write?" + +"Did we write! Well, I should think so! We wrote three times, telling +you we were coming and when to expect us. Jeems and I wondered why you +didn't meet us. That explains it. Seems funny you didn't get any of +those letters!" + +"No, I don't believe it is so funny after all," responded Bennington, +who had been thinking it over. "I remember now that Davidson told the +others he had been intercepting my letters from the Company, and I +suppose he got yours too." + +"That's it, of course. I'll have to interview that Davidson later. +Well, we used to train around here off and on, as I told you once, and +this year Jeems and I thought we'd do our summer sketching here, and +sort of revive old times. So we packed up and came." + +"I'm mighty glad you came, anyway," replied Bennington fervently. + +"So'm I. We're just in time to help foil the villain. As foilers Jeems +and I are an artistic success. We have studied foiling under the best +masters in the Bowery and Sixth Avenue theatres." + +"Where's Bill?" asked Jim suddenly. + +"Will be around in the morning. You're to report progress at once. +Didn't dare to come up until after the row. Dreadful anxious though. +Would have come if Jeems and I hadn't forbidden it." + +Bennington wondered vaguely who Bill might be, but he was beginning to +feel a little tired from the excitement and his wound, so he said +nothing. + +"The next thing is grub," remarked Fay, rising and gathering his pony's +reins. "I'll mosey up to the shack and see about supper. You fellows +can sit around and talk until I get organized." + +He turned to move away, leading his horse. + +"Hold on a minute, Jim," called Bert. "You might lend me your bronc, +and I'll lope down and set Bill's mind easy. It won't take long." + +"Good scheme!" approved Jim heartily. "That's thoughtful of you, +Bertie!" + +He dropped the reins where he stood, and the pony, with the usual +well-trained Western docility, hung his head and halted. Bert arose and +looked down the shaft. + +"Supper will be served shortly, gentlemen," he observed suavely. He +turned toward the pony. + +"Bert," called Bennington in a different voice, "did you say you were +going down the gulch?" + +"Yes." + +"Do you want to do something for me?" + +"Why, surely. What is it?" + +"Would you just as soon stop at the Lawtons' and tell Miss Lawton for +me that it's all right! You'll find the Lawton house----" + +"Yes, I know where the Lawton house is," interrupted Bert, "but Miss +Lawton, you said?" + +"Don't you remember, Bert," put in James, "there is a kid there--Maude, +or something of that sort?" + +"No, no, not Maude," persisted Bennington, still more bashfully. "I +mean Miss Lawton, the young lady." + +He felt that both the youths were looking keenly at him with dawning +wonder and delight. "Hold on, Bert," interposed James, as the other was +about to exclaim, "do you mean, Ben, the one you've been giving such a +rush for the last two months?" + +"Miss Lawton and I are very good friends," replied Bennington with +dignity, wondering whence James had his information. + +Bert drew in his breath sharply, and opened his mouth to speak. + +"Hold on, Bert," interposed James again. "There are possibilities in +this. Don't destroy artistic development by undue haste. What did you +call the young lady, Ben?" + +"Miss Lawton, of course!" + +"Daughter of Bill Lawton?" + +"Why, yes." + +"Oh, my eye!" ejaculated James. + +"And you have eyes in your head!" he cried after a moment. "You have +ears in your head! Blamed if you haven't everything in your head but +brains! She's a good one! I didn't appreciate the subtlety of that +woman before. Ben, you everlasting idiot, do you mean to tell me that +you've seen that girl every day for the last two months, and don't know +yet that she's too good to belong to Bill Lawton?" + +Bert began to laugh hysterically. + +"What do you mean!" cried Bennington. + +"What I say. _She_ isn't Bill Lawton's daughter. Her name isn't Lawton +at all. O glory! He don't even know her name!" James in his turn went +into a fit of laughing. In uncontrollable excitement Bennington seized +him with his sound hand. + +"What is it? Tell me! What is her name, then?" + +"O Lord! Don't squeeze so! I'll tell you! Letup!" + +James dashed the back of his hand across his eyes. + +"What is her name?" repeated Bennington fiercely. + +"Wilhelmina Fay. We call her Bill for short." + +"And Jim Fay?" + +"Is her brother." + +"And the Lawtons?" + +"They board there." + +Across Bennington's mind flashed vaguely a suspicion that turned him +faint with mortification. + +"Who is this Jim Fay?" he asked. + +"He's Jim Fay--James Leicester Fay, of Boston." + +"Not----" + +"Yes, exactly. The Boston Fays." + +Bert swung himself into the saddle. "Better not say anything to Bill +about the young 'un's shoulder," called after him the ever-thoughtful +James. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +MASKS OFF + + +Now that it was all explained, it seemed to Bennington de Laney to be +ridiculously simple. He wondered how he could have been so blind. For +the moment, however, all other emotions were swallowed up in intense +mortification over the density he had displayed, and the ridiculous +light in which he must have appeared to all the actors in the comedy. +His companion perceived this, and kindly hastened to relieve it. + +"You're wondering how it all happened," said he, "but you don't want to +ask about it. I'm going to tell you the story of your life. You see, +Bert and I knew the Fays very well in Boston, and we knew also that +they were out here in the Hills. That's what tickled us so when you +said you were coming out to this very place. You know yourself, Ben, +that you were pretty green when you were in New York--you must know it, +because you have got over it so nicely since--and it struck us, after +you talked so much about the 'Wild West,' that it would be a shame if +you didn't get some of it. So we wrote Jim that you were coming, and to +see to it that you had a time." + +Jim chuckled a little. "From his letters, I guess you had it. He wrote +about that horse he sprung on you, and the time they lynched you, and +all the rest of it, and we thought we had done pretty well, especially +since Jim wrote he thought you weren't half bad, and had come through +in good shape. He wrote, too, that you had run against Bill, and that +Bill was fooling you up in some way--way unspecified. He seemed to be a +little afraid that Bill was trifling with your young affections--how is +it Ben, anyway?--but he said that Bill was very haughty on the subject, +and as he'd never been able to do anything with her before, he didn't +believe he'd have much success if he should try now. I suggested that +Bill might get in a little deep herself," went on James, watching his +listener's face keenly, "but Bert seemed inclined to the opinion that +any one as experienced as Bill was perfectly able to take care of +herself anywhere. She's a mighty fine girl, Ben, old man," suddenly +concluded this startling youth, holding out his hand, "and I wish you +every success in the world in getting her!" + +"Thank you, Jeems," replied Bennington simply, without attempting to +deny the state of affairs. "I'm sure I'm glad of your good wishes, but +I'm afraid I haven't any show now." He sighed deeply. + +"I'll give an opinion on that after I see Bill again," observed the +artist sagely. + +"It always struck me as being queer that two of the most refined people +about here should happen to be living in the same house," commented +Bennington, only just aware that it had so struck him. + +"Did it, indeed?" said Leslie drolly. "You're just bursting with +sagacity now, aren't you? And your Sherlock-Holmes intellect is +seething with conjecture. The lover's soul is far above the sordid +earthly considerations which interest us ordinary mortals, but I'll bet +a hat you are wondering how it comes that a Boston girl is out here +without any more restraint on her actions than a careless brother who +doesn't bother himself, and why she's out here at all, and a few things +like that. 'Fess up." + +"Well," acknowledged Bennington a trifle reluctantly, "of course it is +a little out of the ordinary, but then it's all right, somehow, I'll +swear." + +"All right! Of course it's all right! They haven't any father or +mother, you know, and they are independent of action, as you've no +doubt noticed. Bill kept house for Jim for some time--and they used to +keep a great house, I tell you," said James, smacking his lips in +recollection. "Bert and I used to visit there a good deal. That's why +they call me Jeems--to distinguish me from Jim. Then Jim got tired of +doing nothing--they possess everlasting rocks--you know their lamented +dad was a sort of amateur Croesus--and he decided to monkey with mines. +Bert and I were here one summer, so Bill and Jim just pulled up stakes +and came along too. They have been here ever since. They're both true +sports and like the life, and all that; and, besides, Jim has kept busy +monkeying with mining speculation. They're the salt of the earth, that +pair, if they _do_ worry poor old Boston to death with their ways of +doing things. That's one reason I like 'em so much. Society has fits +over their doings, but it can't get along without them." + +"The Fays are a pretty good family, aren't they?" inquired Bennington. +He was irresistibly impelled to ask this question. + +"Best going. Mayflower, William the Conqueror, and all that rot. You +must know of the Boston Fays." + +"I do. That is, I've heard of them; but I didn't know whether they were +the same." + +Jeems perceived that the topic interested the young fellow, so he +descanted at length concerning the Fays, their belongings, and their +doings. Time passed rapidly. Bennington was surprised to see Jim coming +down to them through the afterglow of sunset announcing vociferously +that the meal was at last prepared. + +"I've fed the old lady," he announced, "and unlocked her. She doesn't +know what's up anyway. She just sits there like a graven image, scared +to death. She doesn't know a relocation from a telegraph pole. I told +her to get a move on her and fix us up some bunks, and I guess she's +at it now." + +They consulted as to the best means of guarding the prisoners. It was +finally agreed that Leslie should stand sentinel until the others had +finished supper. + +"I want to watch the effect of this light on the hills," he announced +positively, "and I'm not hungry, and Jim ought to cool off before +coming out into the air, and Ben's shoulder ought to be taken care of. +Get along with ye!" + +Bennington accompanied Jim to the meal very cheerfully. The facts as to +the latter's persecutions remained the same, but in some way they did +not hold the same proportions as heretofore. The mere item that Jim Fay +was Mary's brother, instead of her lover, made all the difference in +the world. He chattered in a lively fashion concerning the method of +work to be adopted. Suddenly he pulled himself up short. + +"I think I must beg your pardon," he said. "I heard about it all from +Jim Leslie. I have been very green, and you were quite right. If you +still want to do so, let's go into this together as friends." + +"No pardon coming to me," responded Fay heartily. "I've been a little +tough on you occasionally, that I'll admit, and if I've done too much, +I'm sure I beg _your_ pardon. I saw you had the right stuff in you that +day when you stuck to the horse until you rode him, and I've always +liked you first-rate since then. And I wouldn't worry about this last +matter. You were green to the country, and were put down here without +definite instructions. You trusted Davidson, of course, and got fooled +in it; but then you just followed Bishop's lead in that. He'd been +trusting Davidson before you got here, and if he hadn't trusted him +right along, you can bet you'd have had your directions from A to Z. He +was as much to blame as you were, and you'll find that he knows it." + +"I'm afraid you can't make me feel any better about that," objected +Bennington, shaking his head despondently. + +"Well, you'll feel better after a time, and anyway there's no actual +harm done." + +At this moment Bert Leslie entered. + +"Bill's tickled to death," he announced. "She says she's coming up +first thing in the morning. She wanted to come right off and cook +supper, but I wouldn't let her. She couldn't very well stay here all +night, and it's pretty late now. What you got here? Pork? Coffee? +Murphies?" + +He sat down and began to eat hungrily. Jim arose to relieve the +sentinel at the mouth of the shaft, at the same time advising de Laney +to go to bed as soon as possible. + +"You're tired," he said, "and need rest. Wet that compress well with +Pond's Extract, and we'll dress it again in the morning." + +In the kitchen he found the strange sombre woman sitting bolt upright +in silence, her arms folded rigidly across her flat bosom. She looked +straight in front of her, and rocked slowly to and fro on her chair. + +"You mustn't worry, Mrs. Arthur," consoled Fay kindly, pausing for a +moment. "There isn't going to be any trouble. It's just a little matter +of mining law. We'll have to keep your husband locked up for a few +days, but he won't be harmed." + +The woman made no reply. Fay looked at her sharply again, and passed +out. + +"Jeems," he directed that individual at the mouth of the shaft, "go get +your grub. Send the kid to bed right off, and then you and Bert come +down here and we'll fix up these prairie dogs of ours down the hole." + +Jeems and his brother therefore helped the wounded hero to bed, and +left him to a much-needed slumber; after which they returned to the +spot of light in the darkness which marked the glow of Fay's pipe. That +capable individual issued directions. First of all they lowered, by +means of a light cord, food and water to their prisoners. The latter +maintained a sullen silence, and it was only by the lightening of the +burden at the end of the line that those above knew their provisions +had been appropriated. Then followed blankets. The Leslies were +strongly in favour of as uncomfortable a confinement as possible, and +so disapproved of blankets, but Fay insisted. After that the brothers +manned the windlass and let Jim down in a bowline about twenty feet, +while he detached and removed two lengths of the shaft ladder. This +left no means of ascent, as the walls of the shaft were smoothly +timbered; but, to make matters sure, they covered the mouth with inch +thick boards on which they piled large chunks of ore. + +"You don't suppose they'll smother?" suggested Bert. + +"Not much! There's only three of them, and often men drilling will stay +down ten or twelve hours at a time without using up the air." + +"Sweet dreams, gentlemen!" called the irrepressible Jeems in farewell. + +"There's one other thing," said Jim, "and then we can crawl in." + +He approached the cabin in which Arthur and his wife were accustomed to +sleep, and listened until he had satisfied himself that Mrs. Arthur was +inside. Then he softly locked the door, the key of which he had +appropriated immediately after supper, and propped shut the heavy +wooden shutter of the window. + +"No dramatic escapes in ours, thank you!" he muttered. He drew back and +surveyed his work with satisfaction. "Come on, boys, let's turn in. +To-morrow we slave." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE LAND OF VISIONS + + +Although he had retired so early, and in so exhausted a condition, +Bennington de Laney could not sleep. He had taken a slight fever, and +the wound in his shoulder was stiff and painful. For hours on end he +lay flat on his back, staring at the dim illuminations of the windows +and listening to the faint out-of-door noises or the sharper borings of +insects in the logs of the structure. His mind was not active. He lay +in a semi-torpor, whose most vivid consciousness was that of mental +discomfort and the interminability of time. + +The events of the day rose up before him, but he seemed to loathe them +merely because they had been of so active a character, and now he could +not bear to have his brain teased even with their impalpable shadow. + +Strangely enough, this altitude seemed to create a certain dead +polarity between him and them. They lay sullenly outside his brain, +repelled by this dead polarity, and he looked at them languidly, +against the dim illumination of the window, with a dull joy that they +could not come near him and enter the realm of his thoughts. All this +was the fever. + +In a little time these events became endowed with more palpable bodies +which moved. The square of semilucent window faded into something +indescribable, and that into something indescribable, and that into +something else, still indescribable. + +They moved swiftly, and things happened. He found himself suddenly in a +long gallery, half in the dusk, half in the lamplight, pacing slowly +back and forth, waiting for something, he knew not what. To him came a +bustling motherly old woman with a maid's cap on, who said, "Sure, +Master Ben, the moon is shining, and, let me tell ye, at the end of the +hall is a balcony of iron, and Miss Mary will be glad you know that +same." And at that he seemed to himself to be hunting for a coin with +which to tip her. He discovered it turned to lead between his fingers, +whereupon the old woman laughed shrilly and disappeared, and he found +himself alone on the prairie at midnight. + +His mind seemed to be filled with great thoughts which would make him +famous. Over and over again he said to himself: "The rain pours and the +people down below chuckle as they move about each under his little +umbrella of self-conceit. They look up to the mountain, saying, 'The +fool! Why looks he so high? He is lost in the mists up there, and he +might be safe and dry with us.' But the mountain has over him the arch +of the universe, and sleeps calmly in the sun of truth. Little recks he +of the clouds below, and knows not at all the little self-satisfied +fools who pity him," and he thought this was the sum of all wisdom, and +that with it would come immortality. + +Then a bell began to boom, a deep-toned bell, whose tolling was +inexpressibly solemn, and poured into his heart a sadness too deep for +sorrow. As though there dwelt an enchantment in the very sound itself, +the dark prairies shifted like a scene, and in their stead he saw, in a +cold gray twilight, a high doorway built of a cold gray stone, +rough-hewed and heavy. Through its arch passed then a file of +gray-cowled monks, their faces concealed. Each carried a torch, whose +flickering, wavering light cast weird cowled figures on the gray stone, +and in their midst was borne a bier, covered with white. And as the +deep bell boomed on through all the vision, like a subtle thrilling +presence, Bennington seemed to himself to stand, finger on lip, the +eternal custodian of the Secret of it all--the secret that each of +these cowled figures was a Man--a divine soul and a body, with ears, +and eyes, and a brain; that he had thoughts, and his life that is and +is to come was of these thoughts; that there beat hearts beneath that +gray, and that their voices must not be heeded; that in the morning +these wearied eyes awaited but the eve, and that the evening brought no +hope for a new day; that these silent, awesome beings lived within the +heavy stones alone with monotony, until the bell tolled, as now, and +they were carried through the arched doorway into the night; and, above +all, that to each there were sixty minutes in the hour, and twenty-four +hours in the day, and years and years of these days. This was the +Secret, and he was its custodian. None of the others knew of it; but +its awfulness made him sad and stern. He checked the days, he numbered +the hours, he counted the minutes rigorously lest one escape. One did +escape, and he turned back to catch it, and pursued it far away from +the stone doorway and the dull twilight, and even the sound of the +bell, off into a land where there were many hills and valleys, among +which the fugitive Minute hid elusively. And he pursued the Minute, +calling upon it to come to him, and the name by which he called it was +Mary. Then he saw that the square of the window had become yellow with +the sun, and that through it he could hear plainly the voices of the +Leslies talking in high tones. + +His brain was very clear, more so than usual, and he not only received +many impressions, and ordered them with ease and despatch, but his very +senses seemed more than ordinarily acute. He could distinguish even by +day, when the night stillness had withdrawn its favouring conditions, +the borings of the sawdust insects in the logs of the cabin. Only he +was very tired. His hands seemed a long distance away, as though it +would require an extraordinary effort of the will to lift them. So he +lay quiet and listened. + +The conversation, of which he was the eavesdropper, was carried on by +fits and starts. First a sentence would be delivered by one of the +Leslies; then would ensue a pause as though for a reply, inaudible to +any but the interlocutors themselves; then another sentence; and so on, +like a man at a telephone. After a moment's puzzling over it, +Bennington understood that Jim Leslie was talking to one of the +prisoners down the shaft. + +"You have the true sporting spirit, sir," cried the voice of Jeems. "I +honour you for it. But so philosophical a resignation, while it +inclines our souls to know more of you personally, nevertheless renders +you much less interesting in such a juncture as the present. I would +like to hear from Mr. Davidson." + +Pause. + +"That was a performance, Mr. Davidson, which I can not entirely +commend. It is fluent, to be sure, but it lacks variety. A true artist +would have interspersed those finer shades and gradations of meaning +which go to express the numerous and clashing emotions which must +necessarily agitate your venerable bosom. You surely mean more than +_damn_. _Damn_ is expressive and forceful, because capable of being +enunciated at one explosive effort of the breath, but it is monotonous +when too freely employed. To be sure, you might with some justice reply +that you had qualified said adjective strongly--but the qualification +was trite though blasphemous. And you limited it very nicely--but the +limitation to myself is unjust, as it overlooks my brother's equitable +claims to notice." + +Pause. + +"I _beg_ pardon! Kindly repeat!" + +Pause. + +"Delicious! Mr. Davidson, you have redeemed yourself. Bertie, did you +hear Mr. Davidson's last remark?" + +"No!" replied another voice. "Couldn't be bothered. What was it?" + +"Mr. Davidson, with a polished sarcasm that amounted to genius, advised +me in his picturesque vernacular 't' set thet jaw of mine goin', and +then go away an' leave it!'" + +Pause. + +"I beg you, Mr. Slayton, do not think of such a thing. I would not have +him repressed for anything in the world. As you value our future +acquaintanceship, do not end our interview. Thank you! I appreciate +your compliment, and in return will repeat that, though in a pretty +sharp game, you are a true sport. Our friend Arthur is strangely +silent. I have never met Mr. Arthur. I have heard that either his face +or his hat looks like a fried egg, but I forget for the moment which +was so characterized." + +Pause. + +"Fie, fie! Mr. Arthur. Addison, in his most intoxicated moments, would +never have used such language." + +And then the man in the cabin, lying on the bed, began to laugh in a +low tone. His laugh was not pleasant to hear. He was realizing how +funny things were to other people--things that had not been funny to +him at all. For the first time he caught a focus on his father, with +his pompous pride and his stilted diction; on his mother's social +creed. He cared as much for them as ever and his respect was as great, +but now he realized that outsiders could never understand them as he +did, and that always to others they must appear ridiculous. So he +laughed. And, too, he perceived that the world would see something +grimly humorous in his insistence on the girl's parentage, when all the +time, in the home to which he was to bring her, dwelt these unlovable, +snobbish old parents of his own. So he laughed. And he thought of how +he had been fooled, and played with, and duped, and cheated, and all +but disgraced by the very people on whom he had looked down from a +fancied superiority. And so he laughed. And as he laughed his hands +swelled up to the size of pillows, and he thought that he was dressed +in a loose garment spotted all over with great spots, and that he was +standing on a stage before these grave, silent hillmen. The light came +in through a golden-yellow square just behind them. In the front row +sat Mary, looking at him with wide-open, trusting eyes. And he was +revolving these hands like pillows around each other, trying to make +the sombre men and the wistful girl laugh with him, while over and +over certain words slipped in between his cachinnations, like stray +bird-notes through a rattle of drums. + +"I have no fresh motley for my lady's amusement," he was saying to her, +"no new philosophies to spread out for my lady's inspection, no bright +pictures to display for my lady's pleasure, and so I, like a poor +poverty-stricken minstrel whose harp has been broken, yet dare beg at +the castle gate for a crumb of my lady's bounty." At which he would +have wept, but could only laugh louder and louder. + +Then dimly he knew again he was in his own room, and he felt that +several people were moving back and forth quickly. He tried to rise, +but could not, and he knew that he was slipping back to the hall and +the solemn crowd of men. He did not want to go. He grasped convulsively +at the blanket with his sound hand, and shrieked aloud. + +"I am sick! I am sick! I am sick!" he cried louder and louder. + +Some one laid a cool hand on his forehead, and he lay quiet and smiled +contentedly. The room and the people became wraithlike. He saw them +still, but he saw through them to a reality of soft meadows and summer +skies, from which Mary leaned, resting her hand on his brow. Voices +spoke, but muffled, as though by many veils. They talked of various +things. + +"It's the mountain fever," he heard one say. "It's a wonder he escaped +it so long." + +Then the cool hand was withdrawn from his brow, and inexorably he was +hurried back into the land of visions. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +FLOWER O' THE WORLD + + +Bennington de Laney found himself lying comfortably in bed, listening +with closed eyes to a number of sounds. Of these there most impressed +him two. They were a certain rhythmical muffled beat, punctuated at +intervals by a slight rustling of paper; and a series of metallic +clicks, softened somewhat by distance. After a time it occurred to him +to open his eyes. At once he noticed two things more--that he had some +way acquired fresh white sheets for his bed, and that on a little table +near the foot of his bunk stood a vase of flowers. These two new +impressions satisfied him for some time. He brooded over them slowly, +for his brain was weak. Then he allowed his gaze to wander to the +window. From above its upper sash depended two long white curtains of +some lacelike material, freshly starched and with deep edges, ruffled +slightly in a pleasing fashion. They stirred slowly in the warm air +from the window. Bennington watched them lazily, breathing with +pleasure the balmy smell of pine, and listening to the sounds. The +clinking noises came through the open window. He knew now that they +meant the impact of sledge on drill. Some one was drilling somewhere. +His glance roved on, and rested without surprise on a girl in a rocking +chair swaying softly to and fro, and reading a book, the turning of +whose leaves had caused the rustling of paper which he had noticed +first. + +For a long time he lay silent and contented. Her fine brown hair had +been drawn back smoothly away from her forehead into a loose knot. She +was dressed in a simple gown of white--soft, and resting on the curves +of her slender figure as lightly as down on the surface of the warm +meadows. From beneath the full skirt peeped a little slippered foot, +which tapped the floor rhythmically as the chair rocked to and fro. +Finally she glanced up and discovered him locking at her. She arose and +came to the bedside, her finger on her lips. + +"You mustn't talk," she said sweetly, a great joy in her eyes. "I'm so +glad you're better." + +She left the room, and returned in a little time with a bowl of chicken +broth, which she fed him with a spoon. It tasted very good to him, and +he felt the stronger for it, but as yet his voice seemed a long +distance away. When she turned to leave the room, however, he murmured +inarticulately and attempted to stir. She came back to the bed at once. + +"I'll be back in a minute," she said gently, but seeing some look of +pleading in his eyes, she put the empty bowl and spoon on the little +table and sat down on the floor near the bed. He smiled, and then, +closing his eyes, fell asleep--outside the borders of the land of +visions, and with the music of a woman's voice haunting the last +moments of his consciousness. + +After the fever had once broken, his return to strength was rapid. +Although accompanied by delirium, and though running its full course of +weeks, the "mountain fever" is not as intense as typhoid. The +exhaustion of the vital forces is not as great, and recuperation is +easier. In two days Bennington was sitting up in bed, possessed of an +appetite that threatened to depopulate entirely the little log chicken +coop. He found that the tenancy of the camp had materially changed. +Mrs. Lawton and Miss Fay had moved in, bag and baggage--but without the +inquisitive Maude, Bennington was glad to observe. + +Mrs. Lawton, in the presence of an emergency, turned out to be helpful +in every way. She knew all about mountain fevers for one thing, and as +the country was not yet blessed with a doctor, this was not an +unimportant item. Then, too, she was a most capable housekeeper--she +cooked, marketed, swept, dusted, and tyrannized over the mere men in a +manner to be envied even by a New England dame. Fay and the Leslies had +also taken up their quarters in the camp. Old Mizzou and the Arthurs +had gone. The old "bunk house" now accommodated a good-sized gang of +miners, who had been engaged by Fay to do the necessary assessment +work. Altogether the camp was very populous and lively. + +After a little Bennington learned of everything that had happened +during the three weeks of his sickness. It all came out in a series of +charming conversations, when, in the evening twilight, they gathered in +the room where the sick man lay. Mary--as Bennington still liked to +name her--occupied the rocking chair, and the three young men +distributed themselves as best suited them. It was most homelike and +resting. Bennington had never before experienced the delight of seeing +a young girl about a house, and he enjoyed to the utmost the deft +little touches by which is imparted that airily feminine appearance to +a room; or, more subtly, the mere spirit of daintiness which breathes +always from a woman of the right sort. He felt there was added a newer +and calmer element of joy to his love. + +During the first period of his illness, then, Jim Fay and the Leslie +brothers had worked energetically relocating the claims, while Mrs. +Lawton and Miss Fay had taken charge of the house. By the end of the +first day the job was finished. The question then came up as to the +disposition of the prisoners. + +"We didn't want the nuisance of a prosecution," said Fay, "because that +would mean that these mossbacks could drag us off to Rapid City any +old time as witnesses, and keep us there indefinitely. Neither did we +want to let them off scot-free. They'd made us altogether too much +trouble for that! Bert here suggested a very simple way out. I went +down to Spanish Gulch and told the boys the whole story from start to +finish. Well, it isn't hard to handle a Western crowd if you go at it +right. The boys always thought you had good stuff in you since you rode +the horse and smashed Leary's face that night. It would have been easy +to have cooked up all kinds of trouble for our precious gang, but I +managed to get the boys in a frivolous mood, so they merely came up and +had fun." + +"I should say they did!" Bert interjected. "They dragged the crowd out +of the shaft--and they were a tough-looking proposition, I can tell +you!--and stood them up in a row. They shaved half of Davidson's head +and half his beard, on opposite sides. They left tufts of hair all over +Arthur. They made a six-pointed star on the top of Slayton's crown. +Then they put the men's clothes on wrong side before, and tied them +facing the rear on three scrubby little burros. Then the whole outfit +was started toward Deadwood. The boys took them as far as Blue Lead, +where they delivered them over to the gang there, with instructions to +pass them along. They probably got to Deadwood. I don't know what's +become of them since." + +"I think it was cruel!" put in Miss Fay decidedly. + +"Perhaps. But it was better than hanging them." + +"What became of Mrs. Arthur?" asked the invalid. + +"I shipped her to Deadwood with a little money. Poor creature! It would +be a good thing for her if her husband never did show up. She'd get +along better without him." + +The claims located and the sharpers got rid of, Fay proceeded at once +to put the assessment work under way. In this, his long Western +experience, and his intimate acquaintance with the men, stood him in +such good stead that he was enabled to contract the work at a cheaper +rate than Bishop's estimate. + +"I wrote to Bishop," he said, "and told him all about it. In his +answer, which I'll show you, he took all the blame to himself, just as +I anticipated he would, and he's so tickled to death over the showing +made by the assays that he's coming out here himself to see about +development. So I'm afraid you're going to lose your job." + +"I'm not sorry to go home. But I'm sorry to leave the Hills." He looked +wistfully through the twilight toward Mary's slender figure, outlined +against the window. The three men caught the glance, and began at once +to talk in low tones to each other. In a moment they went out. Somehow, +on returning from the land of visions, Ben found that the world had +moved, and that one of the results of the movement was that many things +were taken for granted by the little community of four who surrounded +him. It was as though the tangle had unravelled quietly while he slept. +She leaned toward him shyly, and whispered something to his ear. He +smiled contentedly. + +They talked then long and comfortably in the dusk--about how the +Leslies had written the letter, how much trouble she had taken to +conceal her real identity, and all the rest. + +"I sent Bill Lawton up to warn your camp the first day I met you," said +she. + +"Why, I remember!" he cried. "He was there when I got back." + +And they talked on of their many experiences, in the fashion of lovers, +and how they had come to care for each other, and when. + +"I made up my mind it was so foolish a joke," she confessed, "that I +determined to tell you all about it. You remember I had something to +tell you at the Pioneer's Picnic? That was it. But then you remember +the girl in the train, and how, when she looked at us, you turned +away?" + +"I remember that well enough," replied Bennington. "But what has that +to do with it?" + +"It was a perfectly natural thing to do, dearest. I see that plainly +enough now. But it hurt me a little that you should be ashamed of me as +a Western girl, and I made up my mind to test you." + +"Why, I wasn't thinking of that at all," cried Bennington. "I was just +ashamed of my clothes. I never thought of you!" + +She reached out and patted his hand. "I'm glad to hear that, Ben dear, +after all. It did hurt. And I was so foolish. I thought if you were +ashamed of me, you would never stand the thought of the Lawtons. So I +did not tell you the truth then, but resolved to test you in that way." + +"Foolish little girl!" said he tenderly. "But it came out all right, +didn't it?" + +"Yes," she sighed, with a happy gesture of the hands. They fell silent. + +"I want you to tell me something, dear," said Bennington after a while. +"You needn't unless you want to, but I've thought about it a great +deal." + +"I will tell you, Ben, anything in the world. We ought to be frank with +each other now, don't you think so?" + +"I don't know as I ought to say anything about it, after all," he +hesitated, evidently embarrassed. "But, Mary, you know you have hinted +a little at it yourself. You remember you said something once about +losing faith, and being made hard, and----" + +She took both his hands in hers and drew them closely to her breast. +Although he could not see her eyes against the dusk, he knew that she +was looking at him steadily. + +"Listen quietly, Ben dear, and I will tell you. Before I came out here +I thought I loved a man, and he--well, he did not treat me well. I had +trusted him and every one else implicitly until the very moment +when----I felt it very much, and I came West with Jim to get away from +the old scenes. Now I know that it was only fascination, but it was +very real then. You do not like that, Ben, do you? The memory is not +pleasant to me, and yet," she said, with a wistful little break of the +voice, "if it hadn't been for that I would not have been the woman I +am, and I could not love you, dearest, as I do. It is never in the same +way twice, but each time something better and higher is added to it. +Oh, my darling, I _do_ love you, I do love you so much, and you must be +always my generous, poetic _boy_, as you are now." + +She strained his hands to her as though afraid he would slip from her +clasp. "All that is ideal so soon hardens. I can not bear to think of +your changing." + +Bennington leaned forward and their lips met. "We will forgive him," he +murmured. + +And what that remark had to do with it only our gentler readers will be +able to say. + +Ah, the delicious throbbing silence after the first kiss! + +"What was your decision that afternoon on the Rock, Ben? You never told +me." She asked presently, in a lighter tone, "Would you have taken me +in spite of my family?" + +He laughed with faint mischief. + +"Before I tell you, I want to ask _you_ something," he said in his +turn. "Supposing I had decided that, even though I loved you, I must +give you up because of my duty to my family--suppose that, I say--what +would _you_ have done? Would your love for me have been so strong that +you would have finally confessed to me the fact that the Lawtons were +not your parents? Or would you have thrown me over entirely because you +thought I did not love you enough to take you for yourself?" + +She considered the matter seriously for some little time. + +"Ben, I don't know," she confessed at last frankly. "I can't tell." + +"No more can I, sweetheart. I hadn't decided." + +She puckered her brows in the darkness with genuine distress. Women +worry more than men over past intangibilities. He smiled comfortably to +himself, for in his grasp he held, unresisting, the dearest little hand +in the world. Outside, the ever-charming, ever-mysterious night of the +Hills was stealing here and there in sighs and silences. From the +darkness came the high sweet tenor of Bert Leslie's voice in the words +of a song: + + "A Sailor to the Sea, a Hunter to the Pines, + And Sea and Pines alike to joy the Rover, + The Wood-smells to the nostrils of the Lover of the Trail, + And Hearts to Hearts the whole World over!" + +Through and through the words of the song, like a fine silver wire +through richer cloth of gold, twined the long-drawn, tremulous notes +of the white-throated sparrow, the nightingale of the North. + +"The dear old Hills," he murmured tenderly. "We must come back to them +often, sweetheart." + +"I wish, I _wish_ I knew!" she cried, holding his hand tighter. + +"Knew what?" he asked, surprised. + +"What you'd have done, and what I'd have done!" + +"Well," he replied, with a happy sigh, "I know what I'm _going_ to do, +and that's quite enough for me." + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Claim Jumpers, by Stewart Edward White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLAIM JUMPERS *** + +***** This file should be named 10942-8.txt or 10942-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/9/4/10942/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Claim Jumpers + +Author: Stewart Edward White + +Release Date: February 4, 2004 [EBook #10942] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLAIM JUMPERS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>THE CLAIM JUMPERS</h1> + +<h2><i>A ROMANCE</i></h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>STEWART EDWARD WHITE</h2> + +<h6>NEW YORK</h6> + +<h6>D. APPLETON AND COMPANY</h6> + +<h6>1901</h6> + + +<hr> + +<b>CONTENTS</b> +<br> +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I -- JIM LESLIE WRITES A LETTER</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II -- THE STORY-BOOK WEST</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III -- BENNINGTON HUNTS FOR GOLD AND FINDS A KISS</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV -- THE SUN FAIRY</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V -- THE SPIRIT MOUNTAIN</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI -- BENNINGTON AS A MAN OF BUSINESS</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII -- THE MEETING AT THE ROCK</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII -- AN ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX -- THE HEAVENS OPENED</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_X"><b>CHAPTER X -- THE WORLD MADE YOUNG</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XI"><b>CHAPTER XI -- AND HE DID EAT</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XII"><b>CHAPTER XII -- OLD MIZZOU RESIGNS</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIII"><b>CHAPTER XIII -- THE SPIRES OF STONE</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIV"><b>CHAPTER XIV -- THE PIONEER'S PICNIC</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XV"><b>CHAPTER XV -- THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVI"><b>CHAPTER XVI -- A NOON DINNER</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVII"><b>CHAPTER XVII -- NOBLESSE OBLIGE</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII"><b>CHAPTER XVIII -- THE CLAIM JUMPERS</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XIX"><b>CHAPTER XIX -- BENNINGTON PROVES GAME</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XX"><b>CHAPTER XX -- MASKS OFF</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXI"><b>CHAPTER XXI -- THE LAND OF VISIONS</b></a><br> + <a href="#CHAPTER_XXII"><b>CHAPTER XXII -- FLOWER O' THE WORLD</b></a><br> + +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_I"></a><h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>JIM LESLIE WRITES A LETTER</h3> +<br> + +<p>In a fifth-story sitting room of a New York boarding house four youths +were holding a discussion. The sitting room was large and square, and +in the wildest disorder, which was, however, sublimated into a certain +system by an illuminated device to the effect that one should "Have a +Place for Everything, and then there'll be one Place you won't have to +look." Easels and artists' materials thrust back to the wall +sufficiently advertised the art student, and perhaps explained the +untidiness.</p> + +<p>Two of the occupants of the room, curled up on elevated window ledges, +were emitting clouds of tobacco smoke and nursing their knees; the +other two, naked to the waist, sat on a couple of ordinary bedroom +mattresses deposited carefully in the vacant centre of the apartment. +They were eager, alert-looking young men, well-muscled, curly of hair, +and possessing in common an unabashed carriage of the head which, more +plainly than any mere facial resemblance, proved them brothers. They, +too, were nursing their knees.</p> + +<p>"He must be an unadorned ass," remarked one of the occupants of the +window seats, in answer to some previous statement.</p> + +<p>"He is not," categorically denied a youth of the mattresses. "My dear +Hench, you make no distinctions. I've been talking about the boy's +people and his bringing up and the way he acts, whereupon you fly off +on a tangent and coolly conclude things about the boy himself. It is +not only unkind, but stupid."</p> + +<p>Hench laughed. "You amuse me, Jeems," said he; "elucidate."</p> + +<p>Jeems let go his knees. The upper part of his body, thus deprived of +support, fell backward on the mattress. He then clasped his hands +behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.</p> + +<p>"Listen, ye multitude," he began; "I'm an artist. So are you. I'm also +a philosopher. You are not. Therefore, I'll deign to instruct you. Ben +de Laney has a father and a mother. The father is pompous, conceited, +and a bore. The mother is pompous, conceited, and a bore. The father +uses language of whose absolutely vapid correctness Addison would have +been proud. So does the mother, unless she forgets, in which case the +old man calls her down hard. They, are rich and of a good social +position. The latter worries them, because they have to keep up its +dignity."</p> + +<p>"They succeed," interrupted the other brother fervently, "they succeed. +I dined there once. After that I went around to the waxworks to get +cheered up a bit."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, Bertie," replied the philosopher; "but you interrupted me +just before I got to my point. The poor old creatures had been married +many years before Bennie came to cheer <i>them</i> up. Naturally, Bennie has +been the whole thing ever since. He is allowed a few privileges, but +always under the best auspices. The rest of the time he stays at home, +is told what or what not a gentleman should do, and is instructed in +the genealogy of the de Laneys."</p> + +<p>"The mother is always impressing him with the fact that he is a de +Laney on both sides," interpolated Bert.</p> + +<p>"Important, if true, as the newspapers say," remarked the other young +man on the window ledge. "What constitutes a de Laney?"</p> + +<p>"Hereditary lack of humour, Beck, my boy. Well, the result is that poor +Bennie is a sort of----" the speaker hesitated for his word.</p> + +<p>"'Willy boy,'" suggested Beck, mildly.</p> + +<p>"Something of the sort, but not exactly. A 'willy boy' never has ideas. +Bennie has."</p> + +<p>"Such as?"</p> + +<p>"Well, for one thing, he wants to get away. He doesn't seem quite +content with his job of idle aristocrat. I believe he's been pestering +the old man to send him West. Old man doesn't approve."</p> + +<p>"'That the fine bloom of culture will become rubbed off in the contact +with rude, rough men, seems to me inevitable,'" mimicked Bert in +pedantic tones, "'unless a firm sense of personal dignity and an +equally firm sense of our obligations to more refined though absent +friends hedges us about with adequate safeguards.'"</p> + +<p>The four laughed. "That's his style, sure enough," Jim agreed.</p> + +<p>"What does he want to do West?" asked Hench.</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> doesn't know. Write a book, I believe, or something of that sort. +But he <i>isn't</i> an ass. He has a lot of good stuff in him, only it will +never get a chance, fixed the way he is now."</p> + +<p>A silence fell, which was broken at last by Bert.</p> + +<p>"Come, Jeems," he suggested; "here we've taken up Hench's valuable +idea, but are no farther with it."</p> + +<p>"True," said Jeems.</p> + +<p>He rolled over on his hands and knees. Bert took up a similar position +by his side.</p> + +<p>"Go!" shouted Hench from the window ledge.</p> + +<p>At the word, the two on the mattress turned and grappled each other +fiercely, half rising to their feet in the strenuousness of endeavour. +Jeems tried frantically for a half-Nelson. While preventing it the wily +Bert awaited his chance for a hammer-lock. In the moment of indecision +as to which would succeed in his charitable design, a knock on the door +put an end to hostilities. The gladiators sat upright and panted.</p> + +<p>A young man stepped bashfully into the room and closed the door behind +him.</p> + +<p>The newcomer was a clean-cut young fellow, of perhaps twenty-two years +of age, with regular features, brown eyes, straight hair, and sensitive +lips. He was exceedingly well-dressed. A moment's pause followed his +appearance. Then:</p> + +<p>"Why, it's our old friend, the kid!" cried Jeems.</p> + +<p>"Don't let me interrupt," begged the youth diffidently.</p> + +<p>"No interruption. End of round one," panted Jeems. "Glad you came. +Bertie, here, was twisting my delicate clavicle most cruelly. Know +Hench and Beck there?"</p> + +<p>De Laney bowed to the young men in the window, who removed their pipes +from their mouths and grinned amiably.</p> + +<p>"This, gentlemen," explained Jeems, without changing his position, "is +Mr. Bennie de Laney on both sides. It is extremely fortunate for Mr. de +Laney that he is a de Laney on both sides, for otherwise he would be +lop-sided."</p> + +<p>"You will find a seat, Mr. de Laney, in the adjoining bedroom," said +the first, with great politeness; "and if you don't care to go in +there, you will stand yourself in the corner by that easel until the +conclusion of this little discussion between Jeems and myself.—Jeems, +will you kindly state the merits of the discussion to the gentleman? +I'm out of breath."</p> + +<p>Jeems kindly would.</p> + +<p>"Bert and I have, for the last few weeks, been obeying the parting +commands of our dear mother. 'Boys,' said she, with tears in her eyes, +'Boys, always take care of one another.' So each evening I have tried +to tuck Bertie in his little bed, and Bertie, with equal enthusiasm, +has attempted to tuck <i>me</i> in. It has been hard on pyjamas, bed +springs, and the temper of the Lady with the Piano who resides in the +apartments immediately beneath; so, at the wise suggestion of our +friends in the windows"—he waved a graceful hand toward them, and they +gravely bowed acknowledgment—"we are now engaged in deciding the +matter Græco-Roman. The winner 'tucks.' Come on, Bertie."</p> + +<p>The two again took position side by side, on their hands and knees, +while Mr. Hench explained to de Laney that this method of beginning the +bout was necessary, because the limited area of the mat precluded +flying falls. At a signal from Mr. Beck, they turned and grappled, +Jeems, by the grace of Providence, on top. In the course of the combat +it often happened that the two mattresses would slide apart. The +contestants, suspending their struggles, would then try to kick them +together again without releasing the advantage of their holds. The +noise was beautiful. To de Laney, strong in maternal admonitions as to +proper deportment, it was all new and stirring, and quite without +precedent. He applauded excitedly, and made as much racket as the +rest.</p> + +<p>A sudden and vigorous knock for the second time put an end to +hostilities. The wrestlers again sat bolt upright on the mattresses, +and listened.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," cried an irritated German voice, "there is a lady +schleeping on the next floor!"</p> + +<p>"Karl, Karl!" called one of the irrepressibles, "can I never teach you +to be accurate! No lady could possibly be sleeping anywhere in the +building."</p> + +<p>He arose from the mattress and shook himself.</p> + +<p>"Jeems," he continued sadly, "the world is against true virtue. Our +dear mother's wishes can not be respected."</p> + +<p>De Laney came out of his corner.</p> + +<p>"Fellows," he cried with enthusiasm, "I want you to come up and stay +all night with me some time, so mother can see that gentlemen can make +a noise!"</p> + +<p>Bertie sat down suddenly and shrieked. Jeems rolled over and over, +clutching small feathers from the mattress in the agony of his delight, +while the clothed youths contented themselves with amused but gurgling +chuckles.</p> + +<p>"Bennie, my boy," gasped Jeems, at last, "you'll be the death of me! O +Lord! O Lord! You unfortunate infant! You shall come here and have a +drum to pound; yes, you shall." He tottered weakly to his feet. "Come, +Bertie, let us go get dressed."</p> + +<p>The two disappeared into the bedroom, leaving de Laney uncomfortably +alone with the occupants of the window ledge.</p> + +<p>The young fellow walked awkwardly across the room and sat down on a +partly empty chair, not because he preferred sitting to standing, but +in order to give himself time to recover from his embarrassment.</p> + +<p>The sort of chaffing to which he had just been subjected was direct and +brutal; it touched all his tender spots—the very spots wherein he +realized the intensest soreness of his deficiencies, and about which, +therefore, he was the most sensitive—yet, somehow, he liked it. This +was because the Leslie boys meant to him everything free and young that +he had missed in the precise atmosphere of his own home, and so he +admired them and stood in delightful inferiority to them in spite of +his wealth and position. He would have given anything he owned to have +felt himself one of their sort; but, failing that, the next best thing +was to possess their intimacy. Of this intimacy chaffing was a gauge. +Bennington Clarence de Laney always glowed at heart when they rubbed +his fur the wrong way, for it showed that they felt they knew him well +enough to do so. And in this there was something just a little +pathetic.</p> + +<p>Bennington held to the society standpoint with men, so he thought he +must keep up a conversation. He did so. It was laboured. Bennington +thought of things to say about Art, the Theatre, and Books. Hench and +Beck looked at each other from time to time.</p> + +<p>Finally the door opened, and, to the relief of all, two sweatered and +white-ducked individuals appeared.</p> + +<p>"And now, Jeems, we'll smoke the pipe of peace," suggested Bert, diving +for the mantel and the pipe rack.</p> + +<p>"Correct, my boy," responded Jeems, doing likewise. They lit up, and +turned with simultaneous interest to their latest caller.</p> + +<p>"And how is the proud plutocrat?" inquired Bert; "and how did he +contrive to get leave to visit us rude and vulgar persons?"</p> + +<p>The Leslies had called at the de Laneys', and, as Bert said, had dined +there once. They recognised their status, and rejoiced therein.</p> + +<p>"He is calling on the minister," explained Jeems for him. "Bennington, +my son, you'll get caught at that some day, as sure as shooting. If +your mamma ever found out that, instead of talking society-religion to +old Garnett, you were revelling in this awful dissipation, you'd have +to go abroad again."</p> + +<p>"What did you call him?" inquired Bert.</p> + +<p>"Call who?"</p> + +<p>"Him—Bennie—what was that full name?"</p> + +<p>"Bennington."</p> + +<p>"Great Scott! and here I've been thinking all the time he was plain +Benjamin! Tell us about it, my boy. What is it? It sounds like a battle +of the Revolution. <i>Is</i> it a battle of the Revolution? Just to think +that all this time we have been entertaining unawares a real live +battle!"</p> + +<p>De Laney grinned, half-embarrassed as usual.</p> + +<p>"It's a family name," said he. "It's the name of an ancestor."</p> + +<p>He never knew whether or not these vivacious youths really desired the +varied information they demanded.</p> + +<p>The Leslies looked upon him with awe.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to tell me," said Bertie, "that you are a Bennington! +Well, well! This is a small world! We will celebrate the discovery." He +walked to the door and touched a bell five times. "Beautiful system," +he explained. "In a moment Karl will appear with five beers. This +arrangement is possible because never, in any circumstances, do we ring +for anything but beer."</p> + +<p>The beer came. Two steins, two glasses, and a carefully scrubbed +shaving mug were pressed into service. After the excitement of finding +all these things had died, and the five men were grouped about the +place in ungraceful but comfortable attitudes, Bennington bid for the +sympathy he had sought in this visit.</p> + +<p>"Fellows," said he, "I've something to tell you."</p> + +<p>"Let her flicker," said Jim.</p> + +<p>"I'm going away next week. It's all settled."</p> + +<p>"Bar Harbour, Trouville, Paris, or Berlin?"</p> + +<p>"None of them. I'm going West."</p> + +<p>"Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, San Diego, or Monterey?"</p> + +<p>"None of them. I'm going to the real West. I'm going to a mining camp."</p> + +<p>The Leslies straightened their backbones.</p> + +<p>"Don't spring things on us that way," reproved Bertie severely; "you'll +give us heart disease. Now repeat softly."</p> + +<p>"I am going to a mining camp," obeyed Bennington, a little +shamefacedly.</p> + +<p>"With whom?"</p> + +<p>"Alone."</p> + +<p>This time the Leslies sprang quite to their feet.</p> + +<p>"By the Great Horn Spoon, man!" cried Jim. "Alone! No chaperon! Good +Lord!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Bennington, "I've always wanted to go West. I want to +write, and I'm sure, in that great, free country, I'll get a chance for +development. I had to work hard to induce father and mother to consent, +but it's done now, and I leave next week. Father procured me a position +out there in one of the camps. I'm to be local treasurer, or something +like that; I'm not quite sure, you see, for I haven't talked with +Bishop yet. I go to his office for directions to-morrow."</p> + +<p>At the mention of Bishop the Leslies glanced at each other behind the +young man's back.</p> + +<p>"Bishop?" repeated Jim. "Where's your job located?"</p> + +<p>"In the Black Hills of South Dakota, somewhere near a little place +called Spanish Gulch."</p> + +<p>This time the Leslies winked at each other.</p> + +<p>"It's a nice country," commented Bert vaguely; "I've been there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, have you?" cried the young man. "What's it like?"</p> + +<p>"Hills, pines, log houses, good hunting—oh, it's Western enough."</p> + +<p>A clock struck in a church tower outside. In spite of himself, +Bennington started.</p> + +<p>"Better run along home," laughed Jim; "your mamma will be angry."</p> + +<p>To prove that this consideration carried no weight, Bennington stayed +ten minutes longer. Then he descended the five flights of stairs +deliberately enough, but once out of earshot of his friends, he ran +several blocks. Before going into the house he took off his shoes. In +spite of the precaution, his mother called to him as he passed her +room. It was half past ten.</p> + +<p>Beck and Hench kicked de Laney's chair aside, and drew up more +comfortably before the fire; but James would have none of it. He seemed +to be excited.</p> + +<p>"No," he vetoed decidedly. "You fellows have got to get out! I've got +something to do, and I can't be bothered."</p> + +<p>The visitors grumbled. "There's true hospitality for you," objected +they; "turn your best friends out into the cold world! I like that!"</p> + +<p>"Sorry, boys," insisted James, unmoved. "Got an inspiration. Get out! +Vamoose!"</p> + +<p>They went, grumbling loudly down the length of the stairs, to the +disgust of the Lady with the Piano on the floor below.</p> + +<p>"What're you up to, anyway, Jimmie?" inquired the brother with some +curiosity.</p> + +<p>James had swept a space clear on the table, and was arranging some +stationery.</p> + +<p>"Don't you care," he replied; "you just sit down and read your little +Omar for a while."</p> + +<p>He plunged into the labours of composition, and Bert sat smoking +meditatively. After some moments the writer passed a letter over to the +smoker.</p> + +<p>"Think it'll do?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>Bert read the letter through carefully.</p> + +<p>"Jeems," said he, after due deliberation, "Jeems, you're a blooming +genius."</p> + +<p>James stamped the envelope.</p> + +<p>"I'll mail it for you when I go out in the morning," Bert suggested.</p> + +<p>"Not on your daily bread, sonny. It is posted now by my own hand. We +won't take any chances on <i>this</i> layout, and that I can tell you."</p> + +<p>He tramped down four flights and to the corner, although it was +midnight and bitter cold. Then, with a seraphic grin on his +countenance, he went to bed and slept the sleep of the just.</p> + +<p>The envelope was addressed to a Mr. James Fay, Spanish Gulch, South +Dakota.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_II"></a><h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THE STORY-BOOK WEST</h3> +<br> + +<p>When a man is twenty-one, and has had no experience, and graduates from +a small college where he roomed alone in splendour, and possesses a +gift of words and a certain delight in reading, and is thrown into new +and, to him, romantic surroundings—when all these stars of chance +cross their orbits, he begins to write a novel. The novel never has +anything to do with the aforesaid new and romantic surroundings; +neither has it the faintest connection with anything the author has +ever seen. That would limit his imagination.</p> + +<p>Once he was well settled in his new home, and the first excitement of +novel impressions had worn off, Bennington de Laney began to write +regularly three hours a day. He did his scribbling with a fountain pen, +on typewriter paper, and left a broad right-hand margin, just as he had +seen Brooks do. In it he experienced, above all, a delightful feeling +of power. He enjoyed to the full his ability to swing gorgeous involved +sentences, phrase after phrase, down the long arc of rhetoric, without +a pause, without a quiver, until they rushed unhasting up the other +slope to end in beautiful words, polysyllabic, but with just the right +number of syllables. Interspersed were short sentences. He counted the +words in one or the other of these two sorts, carefully noting the +relations they bore to each other. On occasions he despaired because +they did not bear the right relations. And he also dragged out, +squirming, the Anglo-Saxon and Latin derivations, and set them up in a +row that he might observe their respective numbers. He was uneasily +conscious that he ought, in the dread of college anathema, to use the +former, but he loved the many-syllabled crash or modulated music of the +latter. Also, there was the question of getting variety into his +paragraph lengths. It was all excellent practice.</p> + +<p>And yet this technique, absorbing as it was, counted as nothing in +comparison with the subject-matter.</p> + +<p>The method was talent; the subject-matter was Genius; and Genius had +evolved an Idea which no one had ever thought of before—something +brand new under the sun. It goes without saying that the Idea +symbolized a great Truth. One department, the more impersonal, of +Bennington's critical faculty, assured him that the Idea would take +rank with the Ideas of Plato and Emerson. Emerson, Bennington +worshipped. Plato he also worshipped—because Emerson told him to. He +had never read Plato himself. The other, the more personal and modest, +however, had perforce to doubt this, not because it doubted the Idea, +but because Bennington was not naturally conceited.</p> + +<p>To settle the discrepancy he began to write. He laid the scene in +Arabia and decided to call it <i>Aliris: A Romance of all Time</i>, because +he liked the smooth, easy flow of the syllables.</p> + +<p>The consciousness that he could do all this sugar-coated his Wild +Western experiences, which otherwise might have been a little +disagreeable. He could comfort himself with the reflection that he was +superior, if ridiculous.</p> + +<p>In spots, he was certainly the latter. The locality into which his +destinies had led him lay in the tumultuous centre of the Hills, about +thirty miles from Custer and ten from Hill City. Spanish Gulch was +three miles down the draw. The Holy Smoke mine, to which Bennington was +accredited, he found to consist of a hole in the ground, of unsounded +depth, two log structures, and a chicken coop. The log structures +resembled those he had read about. In one of them lived Arthur and his +wife. The wife did the cooking. Arthur did nothing at all but sit in +the shade and smoke a pipe, and this in spite of the fact that he did +not look like a loafer. He had no official connection with the place, +except that of husband to Mrs. Arthur. The other member of the +community was Davidson, alias Old Mizzou.</p> + +<p>The latter was cordial and voluble. As he was blessed with a long white +beard of the patriarchal type, he inspired confidence. He used +exclusively the present tense and chewed tobacco. He also played +interminable cribbage. Likewise he talked. The latter was his strong +point. Bennington found that within two days of his arrival he knew all +about the company's business without having proved the necessity of +stirring foot on his own behalf. The claims were not worth much, +according to Old Mizzou. The company had been cheated. They would find +it out some day. None of the ore assayed very high. For his part he did +not see why they even did assessment work. Bennington was to look after +the latter? All in good time. You know you had until the end of the +year to do it. What else was there to do? Nothing much; The present +holders had come into the property on a foreclosed mortgage, and +weren't doing anything to develop it yet. Did Bennington know of their +plans? No? Well, it looked as though the two of them were to have a +pretty easy time of it, didn't it?</p> + +<p>Old Mizzou tried, by adroit questioning, to find out just why de Laney +had been sent West. There was, in reality, not enough to keep one man +busy, and surely Old Mizzou considered himself quite competent to +attend to that. Finally, he concluded that it must be to watch +him—Old Mizzou. Acting on that supposition, he tried a new tack.</p> + +<p>For two delicious hours he showed up, to his own satisfaction, +Bennington's ignorance of mining. That was an easy enough task. +Bennington did not even know what country-rock was. All he succeeded in +eliciting confirmed him in the impression that de Laney was sent to spy +on him. But why de Laney? Old Mizzou wagged his gray beard. And why spy +on him? What could the company want to know? He gave it up. One thing +alone was clear: this young man's understanding of his duties was very +simple. Bennington imagined he was expected to see certain assessment +work done (whatever that was), and was to find out what he could about +the value of the property.</p> + +<p>As a matter of sedulously concealed truth, he was really expected to do +nothing at all. The place had been made for him through Mr. de Laney's +influence, because he wanted to go West.</p> + +<p>"Now, my boy," Bishop, the mining capitalist, had said, when +Bennington had visited him in his New York office, "do you know +anything about mining?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," Bennington replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, that doesn't matter much. We don't expect to do anything in the +way of development. The case, briefly, is this: We've bought this +busted proposition of the people who were handling it, and have assumed +their debt. They didn't run it right. They had a sort of a wildcat +individual in charge of the thing, and he got contracts for sinking +shafts with all the turtlebacks out there, and then didn't pay for +them. Now, what we want you to do is this: First of all, you're to take +charge financially at that end of the line. That means paying the local +debts as we send you the money, and looking after whatever expenditures +may become necessary. Then you'll have to attend to the assessment +work. Do you know what assessment work is?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, in order to hold the various claims legally, the owners have to +do one hundred dollars' worth of work a year on each claim. If the +work isn't done, the claims can be 'jumped.' You'll have to hire the +men, buy the supplies, and see that the full amount is done. We have a +man out there named Davidson. You can rely on him, and he'll help you +out in all practical matters. He's a good enough practical miner, but +he's useless in bossing a job or handling money. Between you, you ought +to get along."</p> + +<p>"I'll try, anyway."</p> + +<p>"That's right. Then, another thing. You can put in your spare time +investigating what the thing is worth. I don't expect much from you in +that respect, for you haven't had enough experience; but do the best +you can. It'll be good practice, anyway. Hunt up Davidson; go over all +the claims; find out how the lead runs, and how it holds out; get +samples and ship them to me; investigate everything you can, and don't +be afraid to write when you're stuck."</p> + +<p>In other words, Bennington was to hold the ends of the reins while some +one else drove. But he did not know that. He felt his responsibility.</p> + +<p>As to the assessment work, Old Mizzou had already assured him there was +no immediate hurry; men were cheaper in the fall. As to investigating, +he started in on that at once. He and Davidson climbed down shafts, and +broke off ore, and worked the gold pan. It was fun.</p> + +<p>In the morning Bennington decided to work from seven until ten on +<i>Aliris</i>. Then for three hours he and Old Mizzou prospected. In the +afternoon the young man took a vacation and hunted Wild Western +adventures.</p> + +<p>It may as well be remarked here that Bennington knew all about the West +before he left home. Until this excursion he had never even crossed the +Alleghanies, but he thought he appreciated the conditions thoroughly. +This was because he was young. He could close his eyes and see the +cowboys scouring the plain. As a parenthesis it should be noted that +cowboys always scour the plain, just as sailors always scan the +horizon. He knew how the cowboys looked, because he had seen Buffalo +Bill's show; and he knew how they talked, because he had read accurate +authors of the school of Bret Harte. He could even imagine the +romantic mountain maidens.</p> + +<p>With his preconceived notions the country, in most particulars, tallied +interestingly. At first Bennington frequented the little town down the +draw. It answered fairly well to the story-book descriptions, but +proved a bit lively for him. The first day they lent him a horse. The +horse looked sleepy. It took him twenty minutes to get on the animal +and twenty seconds to fall off. There was an audience. They made him +purchase strange drinks at outlandish prices. After that they shot +holes all around his feet to induce him to dance. He had inherited an +obstinate streak from some of his forebears, and declined when it went +that far. They then did other things to him which were not pleasant. +Most of these pranks seemed to have been instigated by a laughing, +curly-haired young man named Fay. Fay had clear blue eyes, which seemed +always to mock you. He could think up more diabolical schemes in ten +minutes than the rest of the men in as many hours. Bennington came +shortly to hate this man Fay. His attentions had so much of the +gratuitous! For a number of days, even after the enjoyment of novelty +had worn off, the Easterner returned bravely to Spanish Gulch every +afternoon for the mail. It was a matter of pride with him. He did not +like to be bluffed out. But Fay was always there.</p> + +<p>"Tender <i>foot!</i>" the latter would shriek joyously, and bear down on the +shrinking de Laney.</p> + +<p>That would bring out the loafers. It all had to happen over again.</p> + +<p>Bennington hoped that this performance would cease in time. It never +did.</p> + +<p>By a mental process, unnecessary to trace here, he modified his first +views, and permitted Old Mizzou to get the mail. Spanish Gulch saw him +no more.</p> + +<p>After all, it was quite as good Western experience to wander in the +hills. He did not regret the other. In fact, as he cast in review his +research in Wild West literature, he perceived that the incidents of +his town visits were the proper thing. He would not have had them +different—to look back on. They were inspiring—to write home about. +He recognised all the types—the miner, the gambler, the +saloon-keeper, the bad man, the cowboy, the prospector—just as though +they had stepped living from the pages of his classics. They had the +true slouch; they used the picturesque language. The log cabins squared +with his ideas. The broncos even exceeded them.</p> + +<p>But now he had seen it all. There is no sense in draining an agreeable +cup to satiety. He was quite content to enjoy his rambles in the hills, +like the healthy youngster he was. But had he seen it all? On +reflection, he acknowledged he could not make this statement to himself +with a full consciousness of sincerity. One thing was lacking from the +preconceived picture his imagination had drawn. There had been no +Mountain Flowers. By that he meant girls.</p> + +<p>Every one knows what a Western girl is. She is a beautiful creature, +always, with clear, tanned skin, bright eyes, and curly hair. She wears +a Tam o' Shanter. She rides a horse. Also, she talks deliciously, in a +silver voice, about "old pards." Altogether a charming vision—in +books.</p> + +<p>This vision Bennington had not yet realized. The rest of the West came +up to specifications, but this one essential failed. In Spanish Gulch +he had, to be sure, encountered a number of girls. But they were +red-handed, big-boned, freckled-faced, rough-skinned, and there wasn't +a Tam o' Shanter in the lot. Plainly servants, Bennington thought. The +Mountain Flower must have gone on a visit. Come to think of it, there +never was more than one Mountain Flower to a town.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_III"></a><h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>BENNINGTON HUNTS FOR GOLD AND FINDS A KISS</h3> +<br> + +<p>One day Old Mizzou brought him a blue-print map.</p> + +<p>"This y'ar map," said he, spreading it out under his stubby fingers, +"shows the deestrict. I gets it of Fay, so you gains an idee of th' lay +of the land a whole lot. Them claims marked with a crost belongs to th' +Company. You kin take her and explore."</p> + +<p>This struck Bennington as an excellent idea. He sat down at the table +and counted the crosses. There were fourteen of them. The different +lodes were laid off in mathematically exact rectangles, running in many +directions. A few joined one another, but most lay isolated. Their +relative positions were a trifle confusing at first, but, after a +little earnest study, Bennington thought he understood them. He could +start with the Holy Smoke, just outside the door. The John Logan lay +beyond, at an obtuse angle. Then a jump of a hundred yards or so to the +southwest would bring him to the Crazy Horse. This he resolved to +locate, for it was said to be on the same "lode" as a big strike some +one had recently made. He picked up his rifle and set out.</p> + +<p>Now, a blue-print map maker has undoubtedly accurate ideas as to points +of the compass, and faultless proficiency in depicting bird's-eye +views, but he neglects entirely the putting in of various ups and down, +slants and windings of the country, which apparently twist the north +pole around to the east-south-east. You start due west on a bee line, +according to directions; after about ten feet you scramble over a +fallen tree, skirt a boulder, dip into a ravine, and climb a ledge. +Your starting point is out of sight behind you; your destination is, +Heaven knows where, in front. By the time you have walked six thousand +actual feet, which is as near as you can guess to fifteen hundred +theoretical level ones, your little blazed stake in a pile of stones is +likely to be almost anywhere within a liberal quarter of a mile. Then +it is guess-work. If the hill is pretty thickly staked out, the chase +becomes exciting. In the middle distance you see a post. You clamber +eagerly to it, only to find that it marks your neighbour's claim. You +have lost your standpoint of a moment ago, and must start afresh. In an +hour's time you have discovered every stake on the hill but the one you +want. In two hours' time you are staggering homeward a gibbering idiot. +Then you are brought back to profane sanity by falling at full length +over the very object of your search.</p> + +<p>Bennington was treated to full measure of this experience. He found the +John Logan lode without much difficulty, and followed its length with +less, for the simple reason that its course lay over the round brow of +a hill bare of trees. He also discovered the "Northeast Corner of the +Crazy Horse Lode" plainly marked on the white surface of a pine stake +braced upright in a pile of rocks. Thence he confidently paced south, +and found nothing. Next trip he came across pencilled directions +concerning the "Miner's Dream Lode." The time after he ran against the +"Golden Ball" and the "Golden Chain Lodes." Bennington reflected; his +mind was becoming a little heated.</p> + +<p>"It's because I went around those ledges and boulders," he said to +himself; "I got off the straight line. This time I'll take the straight +line and keep it."</p> + +<p>So he addressed himself to the surmounting of obstructions. Work of +that sort is not easy. At one point he lost his hold on a broad, steep +rock, and slid ungracefully to the foot of it, his elbows digging +frantically into the moss, and his legs straddled apart. As he struck +bottom, he imagined he heard a most delicious little laugh. So real was +the illusion that he gripped two handfuls of moss and looked about +sharply, but of course saw nothing. The laugh was repeated.</p> + +<p>He looked again, and so became aware of a Vision in pink, standing just +in front of a big pine above him on the hill and surveying him with +mischievous eyes.</p> + +<p>Surprise froze him, his legs straddled, his hat on one side, his mouth +open. The Vision began to pick its way down the hill, eyeing him the +while.</p> + +<p>That dancing scrutiny seemed to mesmerize him. He was enchanted to +perfect stillness, but he was graciously permitted to take in the +particulars of the girl's appearance. She was dainty. Every posture of +her slight figure was of an airy grace, as light and delicate as that +of a rose tendril swaying in the wind. Even when she tripped over a +loose rock, she caught her balance again with a pretty little uplift of +the hand. As she approached, slowly, and evidently not unwilling to +allow her charms full time in which to work, Bennington could see that +her face was delicately made; but as to the details he could not judge +clearly because of her mischievous eyes. They were large and wide and +clear, and of a most peculiar colour—a purple-violet, of the shade one +sometimes finds in flowers, but only in the flowers of a deep and shady +wood. In this wonderful colour—which seemed to borrow the richness of +its hue rather from its depth than from any pigment of its own, just as +beyond soundings the ocean changes from green to blue—an hundred moods +seem to rise slowly from within, to swim visible, even though the mere +expression of her face gave no sign of them. For instance, at the +present moment her features were composed to the utmost gravity. Yet in +her eyes bubbled gaiety and fun, as successive up-swellings of a +spring; or, rather, as the riffles of sunlight and wind, or the +pictured flight of birds across a pool whose surface alone is stirred.</p> + +<p>Bennington realized suddenly, with overwhelming fervency, that he +preferred to slide in solitude.</p> + +<p>The Vision in the starched pink gingham now poised above him like a +humming-bird over a flower. From behind her back she withdrew one hand. +In the hand was the missing claim stake.</p> + +<p>"Is this what you are looking for?" she inquired demurely.</p> + +<p>The mesmeric spell broke, and Bennington was permitted to babble +incoherencies.</p> + +<p>She stamped her foot.</p> + +<p>"Is this what you're looking for?" she persisted.</p> + +<p>Bennington's chaos had not yet crystallized to relevancy.</p> + +<p>"Wh-where did you get it?" he stammered again.</p> + +<p>"IS THIS WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR?" she demanded in very large capitals.</p> + +<p>The young man regained control of his faculties with an effort.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is!" he rejoined sharply; and then, with the instinct that +bids us appreciate the extent of our relief by passing an annoyance +along, "Don't you know it's a penal offence to disturb claim stakes?"</p> + +<p>He had suddenly discovered that he preferred to find claim stakes on +claims.</p> + +<p>The Vision's eyes opened wider.</p> + +<p>"It must be nice to know so much!" said she, in reverent admiration.</p> + +<p>Bennington flushed. As a de Laney, the girls he had known had always +taken him seriously. He disliked being made fun of.</p> + +<p>"This is nonsense," he objected, with some impatience. "I must know +where it came from."</p> + +<p>In the background of his consciousness still whirled the moil of his +wonder and bewilderment. He clung to the claim stake as a stable +object.</p> + +<p>The Vision looked straight at him without winking, and those wonderful +eyes filled with tears. Yet underneath their mist seemed to sparkle +little points of light, as wavelets through a vapour which veils the +surface of the sea. Bennington became conscious-stricken because of the +tears, and still he owned an uneasy suspicion that they were not real.</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry!" she said contritely, after a moment; "I thought I was +helping you so much! I found that stake just streaking it over the top +of the hill. It had got loose and was running away." The mist had +cleared up very suddenly, and the light-tipped sparkles of fun were +chasing each other rapidly, as though impelled by a lively breeze. "I +thought you'd be ever so grateful, and, instead of that, you scold me! +I don't believe I like you a bit!"</p> + +<p>She looked him over reflectively, as though making up her mind.</p> + +<p>Bennington laughed outright, and scrambled to his feet. "You are +absolutely incorrigible!" he exclaimed, to cover his confusion at his +change of face.</p> + +<p>Her eyes fairly danced.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a <i>lovely</i> word!" she cried rapturously. "What <i>does</i> it +mean? Something nice, or I'm sure you wouldn't have said it about me. +<i>Would</i> you?" The eyes suddenly became grave. "Oh, please tell me!" she +begged appealingly.</p> + +<p>Bennington was thrown into confusion at this, for he did not know +whether she was serious or not. He could do nothing but stammer and get +red, and think what a ridiculous ass he was making of himself. He might +have considered the help he was getting in that.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you needn't," she conceded, magnanimously, after a moment. +"Only, you ought not to say things about girls that you don't dare tell +them in plain language. If you will say nice things about me, you might +as well say them so I can understand them; only, I do think it's a +little early in our acquaintance."</p> + +<p>This cast Bennington still more in perplexity. He had a +pretty-well-defined notion that he was being ridiculed, but concerning +this, just a last grain of doubt remained. She rattled on.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said she impatiently, "why don't you say something? Why don't +you take this stick? I don't want it. Men are so stupid!"</p> + +<p>That last remark has been made many, many times, and yet it never fails +of its effect, which is at once to invest the speaker with daintiness +indescribable, and to thrust the man addressed into nether inferiority. +Bennington fell to its charm. He took the stake.</p> + +<p>"Where does it belong?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She pointed silently to a pile of stones. He deposited the stake in its +proper place, and returned to find her seated on the ground, plucking a +handful of the leaves of a little erect herb that grew abundantly in +the hollow. These she rubbed together and held to her face inside the +sunbonnet.</p> + +<p>"Who are you, anyway?" asked Bennington abruptly, as he returned.</p> + +<p>"D' you ever see this before?" she inquired irrelevantly, looking up +with her eyes as she leaned over the handful. "Good for colds. Makes +your nose feel all funny and prickly."</p> + +<p>She turned her hands over and began to drop the leaves one by one. +Bennington caught himself watching her with fascinated interest in +silence. He began to find this one of her most potent charms—the +faculty of translating into a grace so exquisite as almost to realize +the fabled poetry of motion, the least shrug of her shoulders, the +smallest crook of her finger, the slightest toss of her small, +well-balanced head. She looked up.</p> + +<p>"Want to smell?" she inquired, and held out her hands with a pretty +gesture.</p> + +<p>Not knowing what else to do, Bennington stepped forward obediently and +stooped over. The two little palms held a single crushed bit of the +herb in their cup. They were soft, pink little palms, all wrinkled, +like crumpled rose leaves. Bennington stooped to smell the herb; +instead, he kissed the palms.</p> + +<p>The girl sprang to her feet with one indignant motion and faced him. +The eyes now flashed blue flame, and Bennington for the first time +noticed what had escaped him before—that the forehead was broad and +thoughtful, and that above it the hair, instead of being blonde and +curly and sparkling with golden radiance, was of a peculiar wavy brown +that seemed sometimes full of light and sometimes lustreless and black, +according as it caught the direct rays of the sun or not. Then he +appreciated his offence.</p> + +<p>"Sir!" she exclaimed, and turned away with a haughty shoulder.</p> + +<p>"And we've never been introduced!" she said, half to herself, but her +face was now concealed, so that Bennington could not see she laughed. +She marched stiffly down the hill. Bennington turned to follow her, +although the action was entirely mechanical, and he had no definite +idea in doing so.</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare, sir!" she cried.</p> + +<p>So he did not dare.</p> + +<p>This vexed her for a moment. Then, having gone quite out of sight, she +sank down and laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"I didn't think he knew enough!" she said, with a final hysterical +chuckle.</p> + +<p>This first impression of the Mountain Flower, Bennington would have +been willing to acknowledge, was quite complicated enough, but he was +destined to further surprises.</p> + +<p>When he returned to the Holy Smoke camp he found Old Mizzou in earnest +conversation with a peculiar-looking stranger, whose hand he was +promptly requested to shake.</p> + +<p>The stranger was a tall, scraggly individual, dressed in the usual +flannel shirt and blue jeans, the latter tucked into rusty cowhide +boots. Bennington was interested in him because he was so phenomenally +ugly. From the collar of his shirt projected a lean, sinewy neck, on +which the too-abundant skin rolled and wrinkled in a dark red, +wind-roughened manner particularly disagreeable to behold. The neck +supported a small head. The face was wizened and tanned to a dark +mahogany colour. It was ornamented with a grizzled goatee.</p> + +<p>The man smoked a stub pipe. His remarks were emphasized by the gestures +of a huge and gnarled pair of hands.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Lawton is from Old Mizzou, too, afore he moved to Illinoy," +commented Davidson. One became aware, from the loving tones in which +he pronounced the two words, whence he derived his sobriquet.</p> + +<p>Lawton expressed the opinion that Chillicothe, of that State, was the +finest town on top of earth.</p> + +<p>Bennington presumed it might be, and then opportunely bethought him of +a bottle of Canadian Club, which, among other necessary articles, he +had brought with him from New York. This he produced. The old +Missourians brightened; Davidson went into the cabin after glasses and +a corkscrew. He found the corkscrew all right, but apparently had some +difficulty in regard to the glasses. They could hear him calling +vociferously for Mrs. Arthur. Mrs. Arthur had gone to the spring for +water. In a few moments Old Mizzou appeared in the doorway exceedingly +red of face.</p> + +<p>"Consarn them women folks!" he grumbled, depositing the tin cups on the +porch. "They locks up an' conceals things most damnable. Ain't a +tumbler in th' place."</p> + +<p>"These yar is all right," assured Lawton consolingly, picking up one of +the cups and examining the bottom of it with great care.</p> + +<p>"I reckon they'll hold the likker, anyhow," agreed Davidson.</p> + +<p>They passed the bottle politely to de Laney, and the latter helped +himself. For his part, he was glad the tin cups had been necessary, for +it enabled him to conceal the smallness of his dose. Lawton filled his +own up to the brim; Davidson followed suit.</p> + +<p>"Here's how!" observed the latter, and the two old turtlebacks drank +the raw whisky down, near a half pint of it, as though it had been so +much milk.</p> + +<p>Bennington fairly gasped with astonishment. "Don't you ever take any +water?" he asked.</p> + +<p>They turned slowly. Old Mizzou looked him in the eye with glimmering +reproach.</p> + +<p>"Not, if th' whisky's good, sonny," said he impressively.</p> + +<p>"Wall," commented Lawton, after a pause, "that is a good drink. Reckon +I must be goin'."</p> + +<p>"Stay t' grub!" urged Old Mizzou heartily.</p> + +<p>"Folks waitin'. Remember!"</p> + +<p>They looked at Bennington and chuckled a little, to that young man's +discomfort.</p> + +<p>"Lawton's a damn fine fella'," said Old Mizzou with emphasis. +Bennington thought, with a shudder, of the loose-skinned, turkey-red +neck, and was silent.</p> + +<p>After supper Bennington and Old Mizzou played cribbage by the light of +a kerosene lamp.</p> + +<p>"While I was hunting claims this afternoon," said the Easterner +suddenly, "I ran across a mighty pretty girl."</p> + +<p>"Yas?" observed Old Mizzou with indifference. "What fer a gal was it?"</p> + +<p>"She didn't look as if she belonged around here. She was a slender +girl, very pretty, with a pink dress on."</p> + +<p>"Ain't no female strangers yar-abouts. Blue eyes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"An' ha'r that sometimes looks black an' sometimes yaller-brown?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the one all right. Who is she?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that!" said Old Mizzou with slight interest, "that's Bill +Lawton's girl. Live's down th' gulch. He's th' fella' that was yar +afore grub," he explained.</p> + +<p>For a full minute Bennington stared at the cards in his hand. The +patriarch became impatient.</p> + +<p>"Yore play, sonny," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you know the one I mean," returned Bennington slowly. +"She's a girl with a little mouth and a nose that is tipped up just a +trifle----"</p> + +<p>"Snub!" interrupted Old Mizzou, with some impatience. "Yas, I knows. +Same critter. Only one like her in th' Hills. Sasshays all over th' +scenery, an' don't do nothin' but sit on rocks."</p> + +<p>"So she's the daughter of that man!" said Bennington, still more +slowly.</p> + +<p>"Wall, so Mis' Lawton sez," chuckled Mizzou.</p> + +<p>That night Bennington lay awake for some time. He had discovered the +Mountain Flower; the story-book West was complete at last. But he had +offended his discovery. What was the etiquette in such a case? Back +East he would have felt called upon to apologize for being rude. Then, +at the thought of apologizing to a daughter of that turkey-necked old +whisky-guzzler he had to laugh.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_IV"></a><h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE SUN FAIRY</h3> +<br> + +<p>The next afternoon, after the day's writing and prospecting were +finished, Bennington resolved to go deer hunting. He had skipped +thirteen chapters of his work to describe the heroine, Rhoda. She had +wonderful eyes, and was, I believe, dressed in a garment whose colour +was pink.</p> + +<p>"Keep yore moccasins greased," Old Mizzou advised at parting; by which +he meant that the young man was to step softly.</p> + +<p>This he found to be difficult. His course lay along the top of the +ridge where the obstructions were many. There were outcrops, boulders, +ravines, broken twigs, old leaves, and dikes, all of which had to be +surmounted or avoided. They were all aggravating, but the dikes +possessed some intellectual interest which the others lacked.</p> + +<p>A dike, be it understood, is a hole in the earth made visible. That is +to say, in old days, when mountains were much loftier than they are +now, various agencies brought it to pass that they split and cracked +and yawned down to the innermost cores of their being in such hideous +fashion that chasms and holes of great depth and perpendicularity were +opened in them. Thereupon the interior fires were released, and these, +vomiting up a vast supply of molten material, filled said chasms and +holes to the very brim. The molten material cooled into fire-hardened +rock. The rains descended and the snows melted. Under their erosive +influence the original mountains were cut down somewhat, but the +erstwhile molten material, being, as we have said, fire-hardened, +wasted very little, or not at all, and, as a consequence, stands forth +above its present surroundings in exact mould of the ancient cracks or +holes.</p> + +<p>Now, some dikes are long and narrow, others are short and wide, and +still others are nearly round. All, however, are highest points, and, +head and shoulders above the trees, look abroad over the land.</p> + +<p>When Bennington came to one of these dikes he was forced to pick his +way carefully in a detour around its base. Between times he found +hobnails much inclined to click against unforeseen stones. The broken +twig came to possess other than literary importance. After a little his +nerves asserted themselves. Unconsciously he relaxed his attention and +began to think.</p> + +<p>The subject of his thoughts was the girl he had seen just twenty-four +hours before. He caught himself remembering little things he had not +consciously noticed at the time, as, for instance, the strange contrast +between the mischief in her eyes and the austerity of her brow, or the +queer little fashion she had of winking rapidly four or five times, and +then opening her eyes wide and looking straight into the depths of his +own. He considered it quite a coincidence that he had unconsciously +returned to the spot on which they had met the day before—the rich +Crazy Horse lode.</p> + +<p>As though in answer to his recognition of this fact, her voice suddenly +called to him from above.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, little boy!" it cried.</p> + +<p>He felt at once that he was pleased at the encounter.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" he answered; "where are you?"</p> + +<p>"Right here."</p> + +<p>He looked up, and then still up, until, at the flat top of the +castellated dike that stood over him, he caught a gleam of pink. The +contrast between it, the blue of the sky, and the dark green of the +trees, was most beautiful and unusual. Nature rarely uses pink, except +in sunsets and in flowers. Bennington thought pleasedly how every +impression this girl made upon him was one of grace or beauty or bright +colour. The gleam of pink disappeared, and a great pine cone, heavy +with pitch, came buzzing through the air to fall at his feet.</p> + +<p>"That's to show you where I am," came the clear voice. "You ought to +feel honoured. I've only three cones left."</p> + +<p>The dike before which Bennington had paused was one of the round +variety. It rose perhaps twenty feet above the <i>débris</i> at its base, +sheer, gray, its surface almost intact except for an insignificant +number of frost fissures. From its base the hill fell rapidly, so that, +even from his own inferior elevation, he was enabled to look over the +tops of trees standing but a few rods away from him. He could see that +the summit of this dike was probably nearly flat, and he surmised that, +once up there, one would become master of a pretty enough little +plateau on which to sit; but his careful circumvallation could discover +no possible method of ascent. The walls afforded no chance for a +squirrel's foothold even. He began to doubt whether he had guessed +aright as to the girl's whereabouts, and began carefully to examine the +tops of the trees. Discovering nothing in them, he cast another puzzled +glance at the top of the dike. A pair of violet eyes was scrutinizing +him gravely over the edge of it.</p> + +<p>"How in the world did you get up there?" he cried.</p> + +<p>"Flew," she explained, with great succinctness.</p> + +<p>"Look out you don't fall," he warned hastily; her attitude was +alarming.</p> + +<p>"I am lying flat," said she, "and I can't fall."</p> + +<p>"You haven't told me how you got up. I want to come up, too."</p> + +<p>"How do you know I want you?"</p> + +<p>"I have such a lot of things to say!" cried Bennington, rather at a +loss for a valid reason, but feeling the necessity keenly.</p> + +<p>"Well, sit down and say them. There's a big flat rock just behind you."</p> + +<p>This did not suit him in the least. "I wish you'd let me up," he begged +petulantly. "I can't say what I want from here."</p> + +<p>"I can hear you quite well. You'll have to talk from there, or else +keep still."</p> + +<p>"That isn't fair!" persisted the young man, adopting a tone of +argument. "You're a girl----"</p> + +<p>"Stop there! You are wrong to start with. Did you think that a creature +who could fly to the tops of the rocks was a mere girl? Not at all."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" asked the easily bewildered Bennington.</p> + +<p>"What I say. I'm not a girl."</p> + +<p>"What are you then?"</p> + +<p>"A sun fairy."</p> + +<p>"A sun fairy?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; a real live one. See that cloud over toward the sun? The nice +downy one, I mean. That's my couch. I sleep on it all night. I've got +it near the sun so that it will warm up, you see."</p> + +<p>"I see," cried Bennington. He could recognise foolery—provided it were +ticketed plainly enough. He sat down on the flat rock before indicated, +and clasped his knee with his hands, prepared to enjoy more. "Is that +your throne up there, Sun Fairy?" he asked. She had withdrawn her head +from sight.</p> + +<p>"It is," her voice came down to him in grave tones.</p> + +<p>"It must be a very nice one."</p> + +<p>"The nicest throne you ever saw."</p> + +<p>"I never saw one, but I've often heard that thrones were unpleasant +things."</p> + +<p>"I am sitting, foolish mortal," said she, in tones of deep +commiseration, "on a soft, thick cushion of moss—much more +comfortable, I imagine, than hard, flat rocks. And the nice warm sun +is shining on me—it must be rather chilly in the woods to-day. And +there is a breeze blowing from the Big Horn—old rocks are always damp +and stuffy in the shade. And I am looking away out over the Hills—I +hope some people enjoy the sight of piles of quartzite."</p> + +<p>"Cruel sun fairy!" cried Bennington. "Why do you tantalize me so with +the delights from which you debar me? What have I done?"</p> + +<p>There was a short silence.</p> + +<p>"Can't you think of anything you've done?" asked the voice, +insinuatingly.</p> + +<p>Bennington's conscience-stricken memory stirred. It did not seem so +ridiculous, under the direct charm of the fresh young voice that came +down through the summer air from above, like a dove's note from a +treetop, to apologize to Lawton's girl. The incongruity now was in +forcing into this Arcadian incident anything savouring of +conventionality at all. It had been so idyllic, this talk of the sun +fairy and the cloud; so like a passage from an old book of legends, +this dainty episode in the great, strong, Western breezes, under the +great, strong, Western sky. Everything should be perfect, not to be +blamed.</p> + +<p>"Do sun fairies accept apologies?" he asked presently, in a subdued +voice.</p> + +<p>"They might."</p> + +<p>"This particular sun fairy is offered one by a man who is sorry."</p> + +<p>"Is it a good big one?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, yes."</p> + +<p>The head appeared over the edge of the rock, inspected him gravely for +a moment, and was withdrawn.</p> + +<p>"Then it is accepted," said the voice.</p> + +<p>"Thank you!" he replied sincerely. "And now are you going to let down +your rope ladder, or whatever it is? I really want to talk to you."</p> + +<p>"You are so persistent!" cried the petulant voice, "and so foolish! It +is like a man to spoil things by questionings!"</p> + +<p>He suddenly felt the truth of this. One can not talk every day to a sun +fairy, and the experience can never be repeated. He settled back on the +rock.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, Sun Fairy!" he cried again. "Rope ladders, indeed, to one +who has but to close her eyes and she finds herself on a downy cloud +near the sun. My mortality blinded me!"</p> + +<p>"Now you are a nice boy," she approved more contentedly, "and as a +reward you may ask me one question."</p> + +<p>"All right," he agreed; and then, with instinctive tact, "What do you +see up there?"</p> + +<p>He could hear her clap her hands with delight, and he felt glad that he +had followed his impulse to ask just this question instead of one more +personal and more in line with his curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Listen!" she began. "I see pines, many pines, just the tops of them, +and they are all waving in the breeze. Did you ever see trees from on +top? They are quite different. And out from the pines come great round +hills made all of stone. I think they look like skulls. Then there are +breathless descents where the pines fall away. Once in a while a little +white road flashes out."</p> + +<p>"Yes," urged Bennington, as the voice paused. "And what else do you +see?"</p> + +<p>"I see the prairie, too," she went on half dreamily. "It is brown now, +but the green is beginning to shine through it just a very little. And +out beyond there is a sparkle. That is the Cheyenne. And beyond that +there is something white, and that is the Bad Lands."</p> + +<p>The voice broke off with a happy little laugh.</p> + +<p>Bennington saw the scene as though it lay actually spread out before +him. There was something in the choice of the words, clearcut, +decisive, and descriptive; but more in the exquisite modulations of the +voice, adding here a tint, there a shade to the picture, and casting +over the whole that poetic glamour which, rarely, is imitated in +grosser materials by Nature herself, when, just following sunset, she +suffuses the landscape with a mellow afterglow.</p> + +<p>The head, sunbonneted, reappeared perked inquiringly sideways.</p> + +<p>"Hello, stranger!" it called with a nasal inflection, "how air ye? Do +y' think minin' is goin' t' pan out well this yar spring?" Then she +caught sight of his weapon. "What are you going to shoot?" she asked +with sudden interest.</p> + +<p>"I thought I might see a deer."</p> + +<p>"Deer! hoh!" she cried in lofty scorn, reassuming her nasal tone. "You +is shore a tenderfoot! Don' you-all know that blastin' scares all th' +deer away from a minin' camp?"</p> + +<p>Bennington looked confused. "No, I hadn't thought of that," he +confessed stoutly enough.</p> + +<p>"I kind of like to shoot!" said she, a little wistfully. "What sort of +a gun is it?"</p> + +<p>"A Savage smokeless," answered Bennington perfunctorily.</p> + +<p>"One of the thirty-calibres?" inquired the sunbonnet with new interest.</p> + +<p>"Yes," gasped Bennington, astonished at so much feminine knowledge of +firearms.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I'd like to see it. I never saw any of those. May I shoot it, just +once?"</p> + +<p>"Of course you may. More than once. Shall I come up?"</p> + +<p>"No. I'll come down. You sit right still on that rock."</p> + +<p>The sunbonnet disappeared, and there ensued a momentary commotion on +the other side of the dike. In an instant the girl came around the +corner, picking her way over the loose blocks of stone. With the +finger-tips of either hand she held the pink starched skirt up, +displaying a neat little foot in a heavy little shoe. Diagonally across +the skirt ran two irregular brown stains. She caught him looking at +them.</p> + +<p>"Naughty, naughty!" said she, glancing down at them with a grimace.</p> + +<p>She dropped her skirt, and stood up beside him with a pretty shake of +the shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Now let's see it," she begged.</p> + +<p>She examined the weapon with much interest, throwing down and back the +lever in a manner that showed she was accustomed at least to the +old-style arm.</p> + +<p>"How light it is!" she commented, squinting through the sights. +"Doesn't it kick awfully?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit. Smokeless powder, you know."</p> + +<p>"Of course. What'll we shoot at?"</p> + +<p>Bennington fumbled in his pockets and produced an envelope.</p> + +<p>"How's this?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She seized it and ran like an antelope—with the same <i>gliding</i> +motion—to a tree about thirty paces distant, on which she pinned the +bit of paper. They shot. Bennington hit the paper every time. The girl +missed it once. At this she looked a little vexed.</p> + +<p>"You are either very rude or very sincere," was her comment.</p> + +<p>"You're the best shot I ever saw----"</p> + +<p>"Now don't dare say 'for a girl!'" she interrupted quickly. "What's the +prize?"</p> + +<p>"Was this a match?"</p> + +<p>"Of course it was, and I insist on paying up."</p> + +<p>Bennington considered.</p> + +<p>"I think I would like to go to the top of the rock there, and see the +pines, and the skull-stones, and the prairies."</p> + +<p>She glanced toward him, knitting her brows. "It is my very own," she +said doubtfully. "I've never let anybody go up there before."</p> + +<p>One of the diminutive chipmunks of the hills scampered out from a cleft +in the rocks and perched on a moss-covered log, chattering eagerly and +jerking his tail in the well-known manner of chipmunks.</p> + +<p>"Oh, see! see!" she cried, all excitement in a moment. She seized the +rifle, and taking careful aim, fired. The chattering ceased; the +chipmunk disappeared.</p> + +<p>Bennington ran to the log. Behind it lay the little animal. The long +steel-jacketed bullet had just grazed the base of its brain. He picked +it up gently in the palm of his hand and contemplated it.</p> + +<p>It was such a diminutive beast, not as large as a good-sized rat, quite +smaller than our own fence-corner chipmunks of the East. It's little +sides were daintily striped, its little whiskers were as perfect as +those of the great squirrels in the timber bottom. In its pouches were +the roots of pine cones. Bennington was not a sentimentalist, but the +incident, against the background of the light-hearted day, seemed to +him just a little pathetic. Something of the feeling showed in his +eyes.</p> + +<p>The girl, who had drawn near, looked from him to the dead chipmunk, and +back again. Then she burst suddenly into tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh, cruel, cruel!" she sobbed. "What did I do it for? What did you +<i>let</i> me do it for?"</p> + +<p>Her distress was so keen that the young man hastened to relieve it.</p> + +<p>"There," he reassured her lightly, "don't do that! Why, you are a great +hunter. You got your game. And it was a splendid shot. We'll have him +skinned when we get back home, and we'll cure the skin, and you can +make something out of it—a spectacle case," he suggested at random. "I +know how you feel," he went on, to give her time to recover, "but all +hunters feel that way occasionally. See, I'll put him just here until +we get ready to go home, where nothing can get him."</p> + +<p>He deposited the squirrel in the cleft of a rock, quite out of sight, +and stood back as though pleased. "There, that's fine!" he concluded.</p> + +<p>With one of those instantaneous transitions, which seemed so natural to +her, and yet which appeared to reach not at all to her real nature, she +had changed from an aspect of passionate grief to one of solemn +inquiry. Bennington found her looking at him with the soul brimming to +the very surface of her great eyes.</p> + +<p>"I think you may come up on my rock," she said simply after a moment.</p> + +<p>They skirted the base of the dike together until they had reached the +westernmost side. There Bennington was shown the means of ascent, which +he had overlooked before because of his too close examination of the +cliff itself. At a distance of about twenty feet from the dike grew a +large pine tree, the lowest branch of which extended directly over the +little plateau and about a foot above it. Next to the large pine stood +two smaller saplings side by side and a few inches apart. These had +been converted into a ladder by the nailing across of rustic rounds.</p> + +<p>"That's how I get up," explained the girl. "Now you go back around the +corner again, and when I'm ready I'll call."</p> + +<p>Bennington obeyed. In a few moments he heard again the voice in the air +summoning him to approach and climb.</p> + +<p>He ascended the natural ladder easily, but when within six or eight +feet of the large branch that reached across to the dike, the smaller +of the two saplings ceased, and so, naturally, the ladder terminated.</p> + +<p>"Hi!" he called, "how did you get up this?"</p> + +<p>He looked across the intervening space expectantly, and then, to his +surprise, he observed that the girl was blushing furiously.</p> + +<p>"I—I," stammered a small voice after a moment's hesitation, "I guess +I—<i>shinned</i>!"</p> + +<p>A light broke across Bennington's mind as to the origin of the two dark +streaks on the gown, and he laughed. The girl eyed him reproachfully +for a moment or so; then she too began to laugh in an embarrassed +manner. Whereupon Bennington laughed the harder. He shinned up the +tree, to find that an ingenious hand rope had been fitted above the +bridge limb, so that the crossing of the short interval to the rock was +a matter of no great difficulty. In another instant he stood upon the +top of the dike.</p> + +<p>It was, as he had anticipated, nearly flat. Under the pine branch, +which might make a very good chair back, grew a thick cushion of moss. +The one tree broke the freedom of the eye's sweep toward the west, but +in all other directions it was uninterrupted. As the girl had said, the +tops of pines alone met the view, miles on miles of them, undulating, +rising, swelling, breaking against the barrier of a dike, or lapping +the foot of a great round boulder-mountain. Here and there a darker +spot suggested a break for a mountain peak; rarely a fleck of white +marked a mountain road. Back of them all—ridge, mountain, cavernous +valley—towered old Harney, sun-browned, rock-diademed, a few wisps of +cloud streaming down the wind from his brow, locks heavy with the age +of the great Manitou whom he was supposed to represent. Eastward, the +prairie like a peaceful sea. Above, the alert sky of the west. And +through all the air a humming—vast, murmurous, swelling—as the +mountain breeze touched simultaneously with strong hand the chords, not +of one, but a thousand pine harps.</p> + +<p>Bennington drew in a deep breath, and looked about in all directions. +The girl watched him.</p> + +<p>"Ah! it is beautiful!" he murmured at last with a half sigh, and looked +again.</p> + +<p>She seized his hand eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad you said that—and no more than that!" she cried. "I +feel the sun fairy can make you welcome now."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_V"></a><h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>THE SPIRIT MOUNTAIN</h3> +<br> + +<p>"From now on," said the girl, shaking out her skirts before sitting +down, "I am going to be a mystery."</p> + +<p>"You are already," replied Bennington, for the first time aware that +such was the fact.</p> + +<p>"No fencing. I have a plain business proposition to make. You and I are +going to be great friends. I can see that now."</p> + +<p>"I hope so."</p> + +<p>"And you, being a—well, an open-minded young man" (Now what does she +mean by that? thought Bennington), "will be asking all about myself. I +am going to tell you nothing. I am going to be a mystery."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure----"</p> + +<p>"No, you're not sure of anything, young man. Now I'll tell you this: +that I am living down the gulch with my people."</p> + +<p>"I know—Mr. Lawton's."</p> + +<p>She looked at him a moment. "Exactly. If you were to walk straight +ahead—not out in the air, of course—you could see the roof of the +house. Now, after we know each other better, the natural thing for you +to do will be to come and see me at my house, won't it?"</p> + +<p>Bennington agreed that it would.</p> + +<p>"Well, you mustn't."</p> + +<p>Bennington expressed his astonishment.</p> + +<p>"I will explain a very little. In a month occurs the Pioneer's Picnic +at Rapid. You don't know what the Pioneer's Picnic is? Ignorant boy! +It's our most important event of the year. Well, until that time I am +going to try an experiment. I am going to see if—well, I'll tell you; +I am going to try an experiment on a man, and the man is you, and I'll +explain the whole thing to you after the Pioneer's Picnic, and not a +moment before. Aren't you curious?"</p> + +<p>"I am indeed," Bennington assured her sincerely.</p> + +<p>She took on a small air of tyranny. "Now understand me. I mean what I +say. If you want to see me again, you must do as I tell you. You must +take me as I am, and you must mind me."</p> + +<p>Bennington cast a fleeting wonder over the sublime self-confidence +which made this girl so certain he would care to see her again. Then, +with a grip at the heart, he owned that the self-confidence was well +founded.</p> + +<p>"All right," he assented meekly.</p> + +<p>"Good!" she cried, with a gleam of mischief. "Behold me! Old Bill +Lawton's gal! If you want to be pards, put her thar!"</p> + +<p>"And so you are a girl after all, and no sun fairy," smiled Bennington +as he "put her thar."</p> + +<p>"My cloud has melted," she replied quietly, pointing toward the brow of +Harney.</p> + +<p>They chatted of small things for a time. Bennington felt intuitively +that there was something a little strange about this girl, something a +little out of the ordinary, something he had never been conscious of in +any other girl. Yet he could never seize the impression and examine it. +It was always just escaping; just taking shape to the point of +visibility, and then melting away again; just rising in the +modulations of her voice to a murmur that the ear thought to seize as +a definite chord, and then dying into a hundred other cadences. He +tried to catch it in her eyes, where so much else was to be seen. +Sometimes he perceived its influence, but never itself. It passed as a +shadow in the lower deeps, as though the feather mass of a great sea +growth had lifted slowly on an undercurrent, and then as slowly had +sunk back to its bed, leaving but the haunting impression of something +shapeless that had darkened the hue of the waters. It was most like a +sadness that had passed. Perhaps it was merely an unconscious trick of +thought or manner.</p> + +<p>After a time she asked him his first name, and he told her.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know your's too, Miss Lawton," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't call me Miss Lawton," she cried with sudden +petulance.</p> + +<p>"Why, certainly not, if you don't want me to, but what am I to call +you?"</p> + +<p>"Do you know," she confided with a pretty little gesture, "I have +always disliked my real name. It's ugly and horrid. I've often wished +I were a heroine in a book, and then I could have a name I really +liked. Now here's a chance. I'm going to let you get up one for me, but +it must be pretty, and we'll have it all for our very own."</p> + +<p>"I don't quite see----" objected the still conventional de Laney.</p> + +<p>"Your wits, your wits, haven't you any wits at <i>all</i>?" she cried with +impatience over his unresponsiveness.</p> + +<p>"Well, let me see. It isn't easy to do a thing like that on the spur of +the moment, Sun Fairy. A fairy's a fay, isn't it? I might call you +Fay."</p> + +<p>"Fay," she repeated in a startled tone.</p> + +<p>Bennington remembered that this was the name of the curly-haired young +man who had lent him the bucking horse, and frowned.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't believe I like that," he recanted hastily.</p> + +<p>"Take time and think about it," she suggested.</p> + +<p>"I think of one that would be appropriate," he said after some little +time. "It is suggested by that little bird there. It is Phoebe."</p> + +<p>"Do you think it is appropriate," she objected. "A Phoebe bird or a +Phoebe girl always seemed to me to be demure and quiet and thoughtful +and sweet-voiced and fond of dim forests, while I am a frivolous, +laughing, sunny individual who likes the open air and doesn't care for +shadows at all."</p> + +<p>"Yet I feel it is appropriate," he insisted. He paused and went on a +little timidly in the face of his new experience in giving expression +to the more subtle feelings. "I don't know whether I can express it or +not. You are laughing and sunny, as you say, but there is something in +you like the Phoebe bird just the same. It is like those cloud +shadows." He pointed out over the mountains. Overhead a number of +summer clouds were winging their way from the west, casting on the +earth those huge irregular shadows which sweep across it so swiftly, +yet with such dignity; so rushingly, and yet so harmlessly. "The hills +are sunny and bright enough, and all at once one of the shadows crosses +them, and it is dark. Then in another moment it is bright again."</p> + +<p>"And do you really see that in me?" she asked curiously. "You are a +dear boy," she continued, looking at him for some moments with +reflective eyes. "It won't do though," she said, rising at last. "It's +too 'fancy.'"</p> + +<p>"I don't know then," he confessed with some helplessness.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what I've always <i>wanted</i> to be called," said she, "ever +since I was a little girl. It is 'Mary.'"</p> + +<p>"Mary!" he cried, astonished. "Why, it is such a common name."</p> + +<p>"It is a beautiful name," she asserted. "Say it over. Aren't the +syllables soft and musical and caressing? It is a lovely name. Why I +remember," she went on vivaciously, "a girl who was named Mary, and who +didn't like it. When she came to our school she changed it, but she +didn't dare to break it to the family all at once. The first letter +home she signed herself 'Mae.' Her father wrote back, 'My dear +daughter, if the name of the mother of Jesus isn't good enough for you, +come home.'" She laughed at the recollection.</p> + +<p>"Then you have been away to school?" asked the young man.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she replied shortly.</p> + +<p>She adroitly led him to talk of himself. He told her naively of New +York and tennis, of brake parties and clubs, and even afternoon teas +and balls, all of which, of course, interested a Western girl +exceedingly. In this it so happened that his immaturity showed more +plainly than before. He did not boast openly, but he introduced +extraneous details important in themselves. He mentioned knowing +Pennington the painter, and Brookes the writer, merely in a casual +fashion, but with just the faintest flourish. It somehow became known +that his family had a crest, that his position was high; in short, that +he was a de Laney on both sides. He liked to tell it to this girl, +because it was evidently fresh and new to her, and because in the +presence of her inexperience in these matters he gained a confidence in +himself which he had never dared assume before.</p> + +<p>She looked straight in front of her and listened, throwing in a +comment now and then to assist the stream of his talk. At last, when he +fell silent, she reached swiftly out and patted his cheek with her +hand.</p> + +<p>"You are a dear big <i>boy</i>," she said quietly. "But I like it—oh, so +much!"</p> + +<p>From the tree tops below the clear warble of the purple finch +proclaimed that under the fronds twilight had fallen. The vast green +surface of the hills was streaked here and there with irregular peaks +of darkness dwindling eastward. The sun was nearly down.</p> + +<p>A sudden gloom blotted out the fretwork of the pine shadows that had, +during the latter part of the afternoon, lain athwart the rock. They +looked up startled.</p> + +<p>The shadow of Harney had crept out to them, and, even as they looked, +it stole on, cat-like, across the lower ridges toward the East. One +after another the rounded hills changed hue as it crossed them. For a +moment it lingered in the tangle of woods at the outermost edge, and +then without further pause glided out over the prairie. They watched it +fascinated. The sparkle was quenched in the Cheyenne; the white gleam +of the Bad Lands became a dull gray, scarce distinguishable from the +gray of the twilight. Though a single mysterious cleft a long yellow +bar pointed down across the plains, paused at the horizon, and slowly +lifted into the air. The mountain shadow followed it steadily up into +the sky, growing and growing against the dullness of the east, until at +last over against them in the heavens was the huge phantom of a +mountain, infinitely greater, infinitely grander than any mountain ever +seen by mortal eyes, and lifting higher and higher, commanded upward by +that single wand of golden light. Then suddenly the wand was withdrawn +and the ghost mountain merged into the yellow afterglow of evening.</p> + +<p>The girl had watched it breathless. At its dissolution she seized the +young man excitedly by the arm.</p> + +<p>"The Spirit Mountain!" she cried. "I have never seen it before; and now +I see it—with you."</p> + +<p>She looked at him with startled eyes.</p> + +<p>"With you," she repeated.</p> + +<p>"What is it? I don't understand."</p> + +<p>She did not seem to hear his question.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he asked again.</p> + +<p>"Why—nothing." She caught her breath and recovered command of herself +somewhat. "That is, it is just an old legend that I have often heard, +and it startled me for a minute."</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me the legend?"</p> + +<p>"Not now; some time. We must go now, for it will soon be dark."</p> + +<p>They wandered along the ridge toward Deerfoot Gulch in silence. She had +taken her sunbonnet off, and was enjoying the cool of the evening. He +carried the rifle over the crook of his arm, and watched her pensive +face. The poor little chipmunk lay stiffening in the cleft of the rock, +forgotten. The next morning a prying jay discovered him and carried him +away. He was only a little chipmunk after all—a very little +chipmunk—and nobody and nothing missed him in all the wide world, not +even his mate and his young, for mercifully grief in the animal world +is generally short-lived where tragedies are frequent. His life meant +little. His death----</p> + +<p>At the dip of the gulch they paused.</p> + +<p>"I live just down there," she said, "and now, good-night."</p> + +<p>"Mayn't I take you home?"</p> + +<p>"Remember your promise."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well."</p> + +<p>She looked at him seriously. "I am going to ask you to do what I have +never asked any man before," she said slowly—"to meet me. I want you +to come to the rock to-morrow afternoon. I want to hear more about New +York."</p> + +<p>"Of course I'll come," he agreed delightedly. "I feel as if I had known +you years already."</p> + +<p>They said good-bye. She walked a few steps irresolutely down the +hillside, and then, with a sudden impulsive movement, returned. She +lifted her face gravely, searchingly to his.</p> + +<p>"I like you," said she earnestly. "You have kind eyes," and was gone +down through the graceful alder saplings.</p> + +<p>Bennington stood and watched the swaying of the leaf tops that marked +her progress until she emerged into the lower gulch. There she turned +and looked back toward the ridge, but apparently could not see him, +though he waved his hand. The next instant Jim Fay strolled into the +"park" from the direction of Lawton's cabin. Bennington saw her spring +to meet him, holding out both hands, and then the two strolled back +down the gulch talking earnestly, their heads close together.</p> + +<p>Why should he care? "Mary, Mary, Mary!" he cried within himself as he +hurried home. And in remote burial grounds the ancient de Laneys on +both sides turned over in their lead-lined coffins.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_VI"></a><h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>BENNINGTON AS A MAN OF BUSINESS</h3> +<br> + +<p>That evening Old Mizzou returned from town with a watery eye and a mind +that ran to horses.</p> + +<p>"He is shore a fine cayuse," he asserted with extreme impressiveness. +"He is one of them broncs you jest <i>loves</i>. An' he's jes 's cheap! I +likes you a lot, sonny; I deems you as a face-card shore, an' ef any +one ever tries fer to climb yore hump, you jest calls on pore Old +Mizzou an' he mingles in them troubles immediate. You must have that +cayuse an' go scoutin' in th' hills, yo' shore must! Ol' man +Davidson'll do th' work fer ye, but ye shore must scout. 'Taint healthy +not t' git exercise on a cayuse. It shorely ain't! An' you must git t' +know these yar hills, you must. They is beautiful an' picturesque, and +is full of scenery. When you goes back East, you wants to know all +about 'em. I wouldn't hev you go back East without knowin' all about +'em for anythin' in the worl', I likes ye thet much!"</p> + +<p>Old Mizzou paused to wipe away a sympathetic tear with a rather +uncertain hand.</p> + +<p>"Y' wants to start right off too, thet's th' worst of it, so's t' see +'em all afore you goes, 'cause they is lots of hills and I'm 'feared +you won't stay long, sonny; I am that! I has my ideas these yar claims +is no good, I has fer a fact, and they won't need no one here long, and +then we'll lose ye, sonny, so you mus' shore hev that cayuse."</p> + +<p>Old Mizzou rambled on in like fashion most of the evening, to +Bennington's great amusement, and, though next morning he was quite +himself again, he still clung to the idea that Bennington should +examine the pony.</p> + +<p>"He is a fine bronc, fer shore," he claimed, "an' you'd better git +arter him afore some one else gits him."</p> + +<p>As Bennington had for some time tentatively revolved in his mind the +desirability of something to ride, this struck him as being a good +idea. All Westerners had horses—in the books. So he abandoned +<i>Aliris: A Romance of all Time</i>, for the morning, and drove down to +Spanish Gulch with Old Mizzou.</p> + +<p>He was mentally braced for devilment, but his arch-enemy, Fay, was not +in sight. To his surprise, he got to the post office quite without +molestation. There he was handed two letters. One was from his parents. +The other, his first business document, proved to be from the mining +capitalist. The latter he found to inclose separate drafts for various +amounts in favour of six men. Bishop wrote that the young man was to +hand these drafts to their owners, and to take receipts for the amounts +of each. He promised a further installment in a few weeks.</p> + +<p>Bennington felt very important. He looked the letter all over again, +and examined the envelope idly. The Spanish Gulch postmark bore date of +the day before.</p> + +<p>"That's funny," said Bennington to himself. "I wonder why Mizzou didn't +bring it up with him last night?" Then he remembered the old man's +watery eye and laughed. "I guess I know," he thought.</p> + +<p>The next thing was to find the men named in the letter. He did not know +them from Adam. Mizzou saw no difficulty, however, when the matter was +laid before him.</p> + +<p>"They're in th' Straight Flush!" he asserted positively.</p> + +<p>This was astounding. How should Old Mizzou know that?</p> + +<p>"I don't exactly know," the old man explained this discrepancy, "but +they generally is!"</p> + +<p>"Don't they ever work?"</p> + +<p>"Work's purty slack," crawfished Davidson. "But I tells you I don't +<i>know</i>. We has to find out," and he shuffled away toward the saloon.</p> + +<p>Anybody but Bennington would have suspected something. There was the +delayed letter, the supernatural knowledge of Old Mizzou, the absence +of Fay. Even the Easterner might have been puzzled to account for the +crowded condition of the Straight Flush at ten in the morning, if his +attention had not been quite fully occupied in posing before himself as +the man of business.</p> + +<p>When Mizzou and his companion entered the room, the hum of talk died, +and every one turned expectantly in the direction of the newcomers.</p> + +<p>"Gents," said Old Mizzou, "this is Mr. de Laney, th' new sup'rintendent +of th' Holy Smoke. Mr. de Laney, gents!"</p> + +<p>There was a nodding of heads.</p> + +<p>Every one looked eagerly expectant. The man behind the bar turned back +his cuffs. De Laney, feeling himself the centre of observation, grew +nervous. He drew from his pocket Bishop's letter, and read out the five +names. "I'd like to see those men," he said.</p> + +<p>The men designated came forward. After a moment's conversation, the six +adjourned to the hotel, where paper and ink could be procured.</p> + +<p>After their exit a silence fell, and the miners looked at each other +with ludicrous faces.</p> + +<p>"An' he never asked us to take a drink!" exclaimed one sorrowfully. +"That settles it. It may not be fer th' good of th' camp, Jim Fay, but +I reckons it ain't much fer th' harm of it. I goes you."</p> + +<p>"Me to," "and me," "and me," shouted other voices.</p> + +<p>Fay leaped on the bar and spread his arms abroad.</p> + +<p>"Speech! Speech!" they cried.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen of the great and glorious West!" he began. "It rejoices me +to observe this spirit animating your bosoms. Trampling down the finer +feelings that you all possess to such an unlimited degree, putting +aside all thought of merely material prosperity, you are now prepared, +at whatever cost, to ally yourselves with that higher poetic justice +which is above barter, above mere expediency, above even the ordinary +this-for-that fairness which often passes as justice among the effete +and unenlightened savages of the East. Gentlemen of the great and +glorious West, I congratulate you!"</p> + +<p>The miners stood close around the bar. Every man's face bore a broad +grin. At this point they interrupted with howls and cat-calls of +applause. "Ain't he a <i>peach</i>!" said one to another, and composed +himself again to listen. At the conclusion of a long harangue they +yelled enthusiastically, and immediately began the more informal +discussion of what was evidently a popular proposition. When the five +who had been paid off returned, everybody had a drink, while the +newcomers were made acquainted with the subject. Old Mizzou, who had +listened silently but with a twinkle in his eye, went to hunt up +Bennington.</p> + +<p>They examined the horse together. The owner named thirty dollars as his +price. Old Mizzou said this was cheap. It was not. Bennington agreed to +take the animal on trial for a day or two, so they hitched a lariat +around its neck and led it over to the wagon. After despatching a few +errands they returned to camp. Bennington got out his ledger and +journal and made entries importantly. Old Mizzou disappeared in the +direction of the corral, where he was joined presently by the man +Arthur.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_VII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE MEETING AT THE ROCK</h3> +<br> + +<p>On his way to keep the appointment of the afternoon, Bennington de +Laney discovered within himself a new psychological experience. He +found that, since the evening before, he had been observing things +about him for the purpose of detailing them to his new friend. Little +beauties of nature—as when a strange bird shone for an instant in +vivid contrast to the mountain laurel near his window; an unusual +effect of pine silhouettes near the sky; a weird, semi-poetic +suggestion of one of Poe's stories implied in a contorted shadow cast +by a gnarled little oak in the light of the moon—these he had noticed +and remembered, and was now eager to tell his companion, with full +assurance of her sympathy and understanding. Three days earlier he +would have passed them by.</p> + +<p>But stranger still was his discovery that he had <i>always</i> noticed such +things, and had remembered them. Observations of the sort had +heretofore been quite unconscious. Without knowing it he had always +been a Nature lover, one who appreciated the poetry of her moods, one +who saw the beauty of her smiles, or, what is more rare, the greater +beauty of her frown. The influence had entered into his being, but had +lain neglected. Now it stole forth as the odour of a dried balsam bough +steals from the corner of a loft whither it has been thrown carelessly. +It was all delightful and new, and he wanted to tell her of it.</p> + +<p>He did so. After a little he told her about <i>Aliris: A Romance of all +Time</i>, in which she appeared so interested that he detailed the main +idea and the plot. At her request, he promised to read it to her. He +was very young, you see, and very inexperienced; he threw himself +generously, without reserve, on this girl's sympathies in a manner of +which, assuredly, he should have been quite ashamed. Only the very +young are not ashamed.</p> + +<p>The girl listened, at first half amused. Then she was touched, for she +saw that it was sincere, and youthful, and indicative of clear faith +in what is beautiful, and in fine ideals of what is fitting. Perhaps, +dimly, she perceived that this is good stuff of which to make a man, +provided it springs from immaturity, and not from the sentimentalism of +degeneracy. The loss of it is a price we pay for wisdom. Some think the +price too high.</p> + +<p>As he talked on in this moonshiny way, really believing his ridiculous +abstractions the most important things in the world, gradually she too +became young. She listened with parted lips, and in her great eyes the +soul rose and rose within, clearing away the surface moods as twilight +clears the land of everything but peace.</p> + +<p>He was telling of the East again with a certain felicity of +expression—have we not said he had the gift of words?—and an abandon +of sentiment which showed how thoroughly he confided in the sympathy of +his listener. When we are young we are apt to confide in the sympathy +of every listener, and so we make fools of ourselves, and it takes us a +long time to live down our reputations. As we grow older, we believe +less and less in its reality. Perhaps by and by we do not trust to +anybody's sympathy, not even our own.</p> + +<p>"We have an old country place," he was saying; "it belonged to my +grandfather. My grandfather came by it when the little town was very +small indeed, so he built an old-fashioned stone house and surrounded +it with large grounds." He was seeing the stone house and the large +grounds with that new inner observation which he had just discovered, +and he was trying to the best of his ability to tell what he saw. After +a little he spoke more rhythmically. Many might have thought he spoke +sentimentally, because with feeling; but in reality he was merely +trying with great earnestness for expression. A jarring word would have +brought him back to his everyday mood, but for the time being he was +wrapt in what he saw. This is a condition which all writers, and some +lovers, will recognise. "Now the place is empty—except in +summer—except that we have an old woman who lives tucked away in one +corner of it. I lived there one summer just after I finished college. +Outside my window there was an apple tree that just brushed against +the ledge; there were rose vines, the climbing sort, on the wall; and +then, too, there was a hickory tree that towered 'way over the roof. In +the front yard is what is known all over town as the 'big tree,' a +silver maple, at least twice as tall as the house. It is so broad that +its shade falls over the whole front of the place. In the back is an +orchard of old apple trees, and trellises of big blue grapes. On one +side is a broad lawn, at the back of which is one of the good +old-fashioned flower gardens that does one good to look at. There are +little pink primroses dotting the sod, sweet-william, lavender, +nasturtiums, sweet peas, hollyhocks, bachelor's buttons, portulaca, and +a row of tall sunflowers, the delight of a sleepy colony of hens. I +learned all the flowers that summer." He clasped his hands comfortably +back of his head and looked at her. She was gazing out over the Bad +Lands to the East. "In the very centre, as a sort of protecting nurse +to all the littler flowers," he went on, "is a big lilac bush, and +there the bees and humming birds are thick on a warm spring day. There +are plenty of birds too, but I didn't know so many of them. They +nested everywhere—in the 'big tree,' the orchard, the evergreens, the +hedges, and in the long row of maple trees with trunks as big as a +barrel and limbs that touch across the street."</p> + +<p>"It must be beautiful!" said the girl quietly without looking around.</p> + +<p>Then he began to "suppose." This, as every woman knows, is dangerous +business.</p> + +<p>"It <i>was</i> beautiful," said he. "I can't tell you about it. The words +don't seem to fit some way. I wish you could see it for yourself. I +know you'd enjoy it. I always wanted some one with me to enjoy it too. +Suppose some way we were placed so we could watch the year go by in +those deep windows. First there is the spring and the birds and the +flowers, all of which I've been talking about. Then there is the +summer, when the shades are drawn, when the shadows of the roses wave +slowly across the curtains, when the air outside quivers with heat, and +the air inside tastes like a draught of cool water. All the bird songs +are stilled except that one little fellow still warbles, swaying in +the breeze on the tiptop of the 'big tree,' his notes sliding down the +long sunbeams like beads on a golden thread. Then we would read +together, in the half-darkened 'parlour,' something not very deep, but +beautiful, like Hawthorne's stories; or we would together seek for +these perfect lines of poetry which haunt the memory. In the evening we +would go out to hear the crickets and the tree toads, to see the night +breeze toss the leaves across the calm face of the moon, to be silenced +in spirit by the peace of the stars. Then the autumn would come. We +would taste the 'Concords' and the little red grapes and the big red +grapes. We would take our choice of the yellow sweetings, the hard +white snow apples, or the little red-cheeked fellows from the west +tree. And then, of course, there are the russets! Then there are the +pears, and all the hickory nuts which rattle down on us every time the +wind blows. The leaves are everywhere. We would rake them up into big +piles, and jump into them, and 'swish' about in them. How bracing the +air is! How silvery the sun! How red your cheeks would get! And think +of the bonfires!"</p> + +<p>"And in winter?" murmured the girl. Her eyes were shining.</p> + +<p>"In the winter the wind would howl through the 'big tree,' and +everything would be bleak and cold out doors. We would be inside, of +course, and we would sit on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, +while the evening passed by, watching the 'geese in the chimney' flying +slowly away."</p> + +<p>"'Suppose' some more," she begged dreamily. "I love it. It rests me."</p> + +<p>She clasped her hands back of her head and closed her eyes.</p> + +<p>The young man looked quietly about him.</p> + +<p>"This is a wild and beautiful country," said he, "but it lacks +something. I think it is the soul. The little wood lots of the East +have so much of it." He paused in surprise at his own thoughts. His +only experiences in the woods East had been when out picnicking, or +berrying, and he had never noticed these things. "I don't know as I +ever thought of it there," he went on slowly, as though trying to be +honest with her, "but here it comes to me somehow or another." A little +fly-catcher shot up from the frond below, poised a moment, and dropped +back with closed wings.</p> + +<p>"Do you know the birds?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not," he admitted; "I don't really <i>know</i> much about +Nature, but I love it, and I'm going to learn more. I know only the +very common birds, and one other. Did you ever hear the hermit thrush +sing?"</p> + +<p>"Never."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he cried in sudden enthusiasm, "then there is another 'suppose' +for us, the best of all."</p> + +<p>"I love the dear old house!" she objected doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"But the hermit thrush is better. The old country minister took me to +hear him one Sunday afternoon and I shall never forget it."</p> + +<p>She glanced at his animated face through half-closed eyes.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," she urged softly.</p> + +<p>"'Suppose' we were back East," he began, "and in the country, just +about this time of year. We would wait until the afternoon—why! just +about this time, when the sun is getting low. We would push through the +bushes at the edge of the woods where the little tinkling birds sing in +the fence corners, and would enter the deep high woods where the trees +are tall and still. The moss is thick and soft in there, and there are +little pools lying calm and dark, and there is a kind of a <i>hush</i> in +the air—not silence, you know, but like when a big crowd of people are +keeping still. And then we would walk very carefully, and speak low, +and we would sit by the side of a fallen log and wait. After a while +the thrush would sing, a deep note, with a thrill in it, like a bell +slow and solemn. When you hear it you too feel a thrill as though you +had heard a great and noble thought. Why, it is almost <i>holy</i>!"</p> + +<p>He turned to the girl. She was looking at him.</p> + +<p>"Why, hullo!" he exclaimed, "what's the matter?"</p> + +<p>Her eyes were brimming with tears.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," she said. "I never heard a man talk as you have been +talking, that is all. The rest of them are cynical and hard and cold. +They would be ashamed to say the things you have said. No, no!" she +cried, laying her hand on his arm as he made a little uneasy movement, +"do not misunderstand me. I like it. I love it. It does me good. I had +lost faith. It is not nice to know the other kind—well."</p> + +<p>"You speak bitterly," he expostulated.</p> + +<p>She laughed. "It is a common experience enough. Pray that you may never +know it. I began as a little child, loving and trusting every one, and +giving my full free heart and confidence to every one who offered his +best to me. All I can say is, that I am thankful for you that you have +escaped the suffering such blind trust leads to."</p> + +<p>She laughed again, bitterly, and threw her arms out.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I shall go on trusting people forever. It's in my nature, +and I can't help it."</p> + +<p>"I hope you will feel you can trust me," said he, troubled at this +passion so much beyond his experience. "I would do anything for you."</p> + +<p>"Do! do!" she cried with contempt. "Yes. Any number of people will <i>do</i> +anything for me. I want some one to <i>be</i> for me!"</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry!" he said simply, but with great feeling.</p> + +<p>"Don't pity me, don't believe in me!" she cried suddenly in a passion. +"I am not worth it. I am cruel and hard and cold, and I'll never care +for anybody in any way. My nature has been hardened. I <i>can't</i> be good. +I can't care for people. I <i>can't</i> think of giving way to it. It +frightens me."</p> + +<p>She burst into sudden tears and sobbed convulsively. In a moment she +became calm. Then she took her hands from her eyes and smiled. In the +distress of his sympathy Bennington thought he had never seen anything +more beautiful than this breaking forth of the light.</p> + +<p>"You must think I am a very peculiar young person," she said, "but I +told you I was a mystery. I am a little tired to-day, that's all."</p> + +<p>The conversation took a lighter tone and ran on the subject of the new +horse. She was much interested, inquiring of his colour, his size, his +gaits, whether he had been tried.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what we will do," she suggested; "we'll go on an +expedition some day. I have a pony too. We will fill up our saddlebags +and cook our own dinner. I know a nice little place over toward Blue +Lead."</p> + +<p>"I've one suggestion to add," put in Bennington, "and that is, that we +go to-morrow."</p> + +<p>She looked a trifle doubtful.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Aren't we seeing a good deal of each other?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, if it is going to bore you, by all means put it off!" cried +Bennington in genuine alarm.</p> + +<p>She laughed contentedly over his way of looking at it. "I'm not tired +then, so please you; and when I am, I'll let you know. To-morrow it +is."</p> + +<p>"Shall I come after you? What time shall I start?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'd rather meet you somewhere. Let's see. You watch for me, and +I'll ride by in the lower gulch about nine o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Very well. By the way, the band's going to practise in town to-night. +Don't you want to go?"</p> + +<p>"I'd like to, but I promised Jim I'd go with him."</p> + +<p>"Jim?"</p> + +<p>"Jim Fay."</p> + +<p>Bennington felt this as a discordant note.</p> + +<p>"Do you know him very well?" he asked jealously.</p> + +<p>"He's my best friend. I like him very much. He is a fine fellow. You +must meet him."</p> + +<p>"I've met him," said Bennington shortly.</p> + +<p>"Now you must go," she commanded, after a pause. "I want to stay here +for a while." "No," as he opened his mouth to object. "I mean it! +Please be good!"</p> + +<p>After he had gone she sat still until sundown. Once she shook her +shoulders impatiently. "It is <i>silly</i>!" she assured herself. As before, +the shadow of Harney crept out to the horizon's edge. There it +stopped. Twilight fell.</p> + +<p>"No Spirit Mountain to-night," she murmured wistfully at last. "Almost +do I believe in the old legend."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_VIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>AN ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT</h3> +<br> + +<p>After supper that night Bennington found himself unaccountably alone in +camp. Old Mizzou had wandered off up the gulch. Arthur had wandered off +down the gulch. The woman had locked herself in her cabin.</p> + +<p>So, having nothing else to do, he got out the manuscript of <i>Aliris: A +Romance of all Time</i>, and read it through carefully from the beginning. +To his surprise he found it very poor. Its language was felicitous in +some spots, but stilted in most; the erudition was pedantic, and +dragged in by the ears; the action was idiotic; and the proportions +were padded until they no longer existed as proportions. He was +astounded. He began to see that he had misconceived the whole treatment +of it. It would have to be written all over again, with the love story +as the ruling <i>motif</i>. He felt very capable of doing the love story. +He drew some paper toward him and began to write.</p> + +<p>You see he was already developing. Every time a writer is made to +appreciate that his work is poor he has taken a step in advance of it. +Although he did not know that was the reason of it, Bennington +perceived the deficiencies of <i>Aliris</i>, because he had promised to read +it to the girl. He saw it through her eyes.</p> + +<p>The young man became absorbed in redescribing the heroine with violet +eyes. A sudden slamming of the door behind him brought him, startled, +to his feet. He laughed, and was about to sit down again, but noticed +that the door had remained open. He arose to shut it. Over the trunks +of the nearer pines played a strange flickering light, throwing them +now into relief, now into shadow. "Strange!" murmured Bennington to +himself, and stepped outside to investigate. As he crossed the sill he +was seized on either side.</p> + +<p>He cried out and struggled blindly, but was held as in a vice. His +captors, whom he dimly perceived to be large men in masks, whirled him +sharply to the left, and he found himself face to face with a third +man, also masked. Beyond him were a score or so more, some of whom bore +pine torches, which, partly blazing and partly smoking, served to cast +the weird light he had seen flickering on the tree trunks. Perfect +silence reigned. The man with whom Bennington was fronted eyed him +gravely through the holes in his mask.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know what this means?" broke out the Easterner angrily.</p> + +<p>The men did not reply. They stood motionless, as silent as the night. +In spite of his indignation, the young man was impressed. He twisted +his shoulders again. The men at either arm never tightened a muscle to +resist, and yet he was held beyond the possibility of escape.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter? What're you trying to do? Take your hands off me!" +he cried.</p> + +<p>Again the silence fell.</p> + +<p>Then at the end of what seemed to the Easterner a full minute the +masked figure in front spoke.</p> + +<p>"Thar is them that thinks as how it ain't noways needful thet ye +knows," it said in slow and solemn accents, "but by the mercy of th' +others we gives y' thet much satisfaction."</p> + +<p>"You comes hyar from a great corp'ration thet in times gone by we +thinks is public spirited an' enterprisin', which is a mistake. You +pays th' debt of said corp'ration, so they sez, an' tharfore we +welcomes you to our bosom cordial. What happens? You insults us by +paying such low-down ornary cusses as Snowie. Th' camp is just. She +arises an' avenges said insult by stringin' of you up all right an' +proper. We gives you five minutes to get ready."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"We hangs you in five minutes."</p> + +<p>The slow, even voice ceased, and again the silence was broken only by +the occasional bursting crackle of a blister in the pine torches. +Bennington tried to realize the situation. It had all come about so +suddenly.</p> + +<p>"I guess you've got the joke on me, boys," he ventured with a nervous +little laugh. And then his voice died away against the stony +immobility of the man opposite as laughter sinks to nothing against +the horror of a great darkness. Bennington began to feel impressed in +earnest. Across his mind crept doubts as to the outcome. He almost +screamed aloud as some one stole up behind and dropped over his throat +the soft cold coil of a lariat. Then, at a signal from the chief, the +two men haled him away.</p> + +<p>They stopped beneath a gnarled oak halfway down the slope to the gulch +bottom, from which protruded, like a long witch arm, a single withered +branch. Over this the unseen threw the end of the lariat. Bennington +faced the expressionless gaze of twenty masks, on which the torchlight +threw Strong black shadows. Directly in front of him the leader posted +himself, watch in hand.</p> + +<p>"Any last requests?" he inquired in his measured tones.</p> + +<p>Bennington felt the need of thinking quickly, but, being unused to +emergencies, he could not.</p> + +<p>"Anywhar y' want yore stuff sent?" the other pursued relentlessly.</p> + +<p>Bennington swallowed, and found his voice at last.</p> + +<p>"Now be reasonable," he pleaded. "It isn't going to do you any good to +hang me. I didn't mean to make any distinctions. I just paid the oldest +debts, that's all. You'll all get paid. There'll be some more money +after a while, and then I can pay some more of you. If you kill me, you +won't get any at all."</p> + +<p>"Won't get any any way," some one muttered audibly from the crowd.</p> + +<p>The man with the watch never stirred.</p> + +<p>"Two minutes more," he said simply.</p> + +<p>One of the men, who had been holding the young man's arms, had fallen +back into the crowd when the lariat was thrown over the oak limb. +During the short colloquy just detailed, the attention of the other had +become somewhat distracted. Bennington wrenched himself free, and +struck this man full in the face.</p> + +<p>He had never in his well-ordered life hit in anger, but behind this +blow was desperation, and the weight of a young and active body. The +man went down. Bennington seized the lariat with both hands and tried +to wrench it over his head.</p> + +<p>The individual who had done all the talking leaped forward toward him, +and dodging a hastily aimed blow, seized him about the waist and threw +him neatly to the ground. Bennington struggled furiously and silently. +The other had great difficulty in holding him down.</p> + +<p>"Come here, some of you fellows," he cried, panting and laughing a +little. "Tie his hands, for the love of Heaven."</p> + +<p>In another moment the Easterner, his arms securely pinioned, stood as +before. He was breathing hard and the short struggle had heated his +blood through and through. Bunker Hill had waked up. He set his teeth, +resolving that they should not get another word out of him.</p> + +<p>The timekeeper raised one hand warningly. Over his shoulder Bennington +dimly saw a tall muscular figure, tense with the expectation of effort, +lean forward to the slack of the lariat. He stared back to the front.</p> + +<p>The leader raised his pistol to give the signal. Bennington shut his +eyes. Then ensued a pause and a murmuring of low voices. Bennington +looked, and, to his surprise, perceived Lawton's girl in earnest +expostulation with the leader of the band. As he listened their voices +rose, so he caught snatches of their talk.</p> + +<p>"Confound it all!" objected the man in exasperated tones, "you don't +play fair. That wasn't the agreement at all."</p> + +<p>"Agreement or no agreement, this thing's gone far enough," she rejoined +sharply. "I've watched the whole performance, and I've been expecting +for the last ten minutes you'd have sense enough to quit."</p> + +<p>The voices died to a murmuring. Once the girl stamped her foot, and +once the man spread his hands out in deprecation. The maskers grouped +about in silent enjoyment of the scene. At last the discussion +terminated.</p> + +<p>"It's all up, boys," cried the man savagely, tearing off his mask. To +Bennington's vast surprise, the features of Jim Fay were discovered. He +approached and began sullenly to undo the young man's pinioned arms. +The others rolled up their masks and put them in their pockets. They +laughed to each other consumedly. The tall man approached, rubbing his +jaw.</p> + +<p>"You hits hard, sonny," said he, "and you don't go down in yore +boots<a name="FNanchorA"></a><a href="#Footnote_A"><sup>[A]</sup></a> a little bit."</p> + +<p>The group began to break up and move down the gulch, most of the men +shouting out a good-natured word or so of farewell. Bennington, +recovering from his daze at the rapid passage of these events, stepped +forward to where Fay and the girl had resumed their discussion. He saw +that the young miner had recovered his habitual tone of raillery, and +that the girl was now looking up at him with eyes full of deprecation.</p> + +<p>"Miss Lawton," said Bennington with formality, "I hope you will allow +me, after your great kindness, to see that you get down the gulch +safely."</p> + +<p>Fay cut in before the girl could reply.</p> + +<p>"Don't bother about that, de Laney," said he, in a most cavalier +fashion. "I'll see to it."</p> + +<p>"I did not address you, sir!" returned Bennington coldly. The +Westerner's eyes twinkled with amusement. The girl interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much, Mr. de Laney, but Mr. Fay is right—I wouldn't +trouble you." Her eyes commanded Fay, and he moved a little apart.</p> + +<p>"Don't be angry," she pleaded hurriedly, in an undertone, "but it's +better that way to-night. And I think you acted grandly."</p> + +<p>"You are the one who acted grandly," he replied, a little mollified. +"How can I ever thank you? You came just in time."</p> + +<p>She laughed.</p> + +<p>"You're not angry, are you?" she coaxed.</p> + +<p>"No, of course not; what right have I to be?"</p> + +<p>"I don't like that—quite—but I suppose it will do. You'll be there +to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"You know I will."</p> + +<p>"Then good-night." She gave his folded arm a hasty pat and ran on down +the hill after Fay, who had gone on. Bennington saw her seize his +shoulders, as she overtook him, and give them a severe shake.</p> + +<p>The light of the torches down the gulch wavered and disappeared. +Bennington returned to his room. On the table lay his manuscript, and +the ink was hardly dried on the last word of it. Outside a poor-will +began to utter its weird call. The candle before him sputtered, and +burned again with a clear flame.</p> + +<a name="Footnote_A"></a><a href="#FNanchorA">[A]</a><div class=note> Western—to become frightened.</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_IX"></a><h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE HEAVENS OPENED</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington awoke early the next morning, a pleased glow of anticipation +warming his heart, and almost before his eyes were opened he had raised +himself to leap out of the bunk. Then with a disappointed sigh he sank +back. On the roof fell the heavy patter of raindrops.</p> + +<p>After a time he arose and pulled aside the curtains of a window. The +nearer world was dripping; the farther world was hidden or obscured by +long veils of rain, driven in ragged clouds before a west wind. +Yesterday the leaves had waved lightly, the undergrowth of shrubs had +uplifted in feathery airiness of texture, the ground beneath had been +crisp and aromatic with pine needles. Now everything bore a drooping, +sodden aspect which spoke rather of decay than of the life of spring. +Even the chickens had wisely remained indoors, with the exception of a +single bedraggled old rooster, whose melancholy appearance added +another shade of gloom to the dismal outlook. The wind twisted his long +tail feathers from side to side so energetically that, even as +Bennington looked, the poor fowl, perforce, had to scud, careened from +one side to the other, like a heavily-laden craft, into the shelter of +his coop. The wind, left to its own devices, skittered across +cold-looking little pools of water, and tried in vain to induce the +soaked leaves of the autumn before to essay an aerial flight.</p> + +<p>The rain hit the roof now in heavy gusts as though some one had dashed +it from a pail. The wind whistled through a loosened shingle and +rattled around an ill-made joint. Within the house itself some slight +sounds of preparation for breakfast sounded the clearer against the +turmoil outside. And then Bennington became conscious that for some +time he had <i>felt</i> another sound underneath all the rest. It was grand +and organlike in tone, resembling the roar of surf on a sand beach as +much as anything else. He looked out again, and saw that it was the +wind in the trees. The same conditions that had before touched the harp +murmur of a stiller day now struck out a rush and roar almost +awe-inspiring in its volume. Bennington impulsively threw open the +window and leaned out.</p> + +<p>The great hill back of the camp was so steep that the pines growing on +its slope offered to the breeze an almost perpendicular screen of +branches. Instead of one, or at most a dozen trees, the wind here +passed through a thousand at once. As a consequence, the stir of air +that in a level woodland would arouse but a faint whisper, here would +pass with a rustling murmur; a murmur would be magnified into a noise +as of the mellow falling of waters; and now that the storm had +awakened, the hill caught up its cry with a howl so awful and sustained +that, as the open window let in the full volume of its blast, +Bennington involuntarily drew back. He closed the sash and turned to +dress.</p> + +<p>After the first disappointment, strange to say, Bennington became quite +resigned. He had felt, a little illogically, that this giving of a +whole day to the picnic was not quite the thing. His Puritan conscience +impressed him with the sacredness of work. He settled down to the fact +of the rainstorm with a pleasant recognition of its inevitability, and +a resolve to improve his time.</p> + +<p>To that end, after breakfast, he drew on a pair of fleece-lined +slippers, donned a sweater, occupied two chairs in the well-known +fashion, and attacked with energy the pages of Le Conte's <i>Geology</i>. +This book, as you very well know, discourses at first with great +interest concerning erosions. Among other things it convinces you that +a current of water, being doubled in swiftness, can transport a mass +sixty-four times as heavy as when it ran half as fast. This astounding +proposition is abstrusely proved. As Bennington had resolved not to +make his reading mere recreation, he drew diagrams conscientiously +until he understood it. Then he passed on to an earnest consideration +of why the revolution of the globe and the resistance of continents +cause oceanic currents of a particular direction and velocity. Besides +this, there was much easier reading concerning alluvial deposits. So +interested did he grow that Old Mizzou, coming in, muddy-hoofed and +glistening from a round of the stock, found him quite unapproachable on +the subject of cribbage. The patriarch then stumped over to Arthur's +cabin.</p> + +<p>After dinner, Bennington picked up the book again, but found that his +brain had reached the limit of spontaneous mental effort. He looked for +Old Mizzou and the cribbage game. The miner had gone to visit Arthur +again. Bennington wandered about disconsolately.</p> + +<p>For a time he drummed idly on the window pane. Then he took out his +revolver and tried to practise through the open doorway. The smoke from +the discharges hung heavy in the damp air, filling the room in a most +disagreeable fashion. Bennington's trips to see the effect of his shots +proved to him the fiendish propensity of everything he touched, were it +never so lightly, to sprinkle him with cold water. Above all, his skill +with the weapon was not great enough as yet to make it much fun. He +abandoned pistol shooting and yawned extensively, wishing it were time +to go to bed.</p> + +<p>In the evening he played cribbage with Old Mizzou. After a time Arthur +and his wife came in and they had a dreary game of "cinch," the man +speaking but little, the woman not at all. Old Mizzou smoked +incessantly on a corncob pipe charged with a peculiarly pungent variety +of tobacco, which filled the air with a blue vapour, and penetrated +unpleasantly into Bennington's mucous membranes.</p> + +<p>The next morning it was still raining.</p> + +<p>Bennington became very impatient indeed, but he tackled Le Conte +industriously, and did well enough until he tried to get it into his +head why various things happen to glaciers. Then viscosity, the lines +of swiftest motion, relegation, and directions of pressure came forth +from the printed pages and mocked him. He arose in his might and went +forth into the open air.</p> + +<p>Before going out he had put on his canvas shooting coat and a pair of +hobnailed leather hunting boots, laced for a little distance at the +front and sides. He visited the horses, standing disconsolate under an +open shed in the corral; he slopped, with constantly accruing masses of +sticky earth at his feet, to the chicken coop, into which he cast an +eye; he even took the kitchen pails and tramped down to the spring and +back. In the gulch he did not see or hear a living thing. A newly-born +and dirty little stream was trickling destructively through all manner +of shivering grasses and flowers. The water from Bennington's sleeves +ran down over the harsh canvas cuffs and turned his hands purple with +the cold. He returned to the cabin and changed his clothes.</p> + +<p>The short walk had refreshed him, but it had spurred his impatience. +Outside, the world seemed to have changed. His experience with the +Hills, up to now, had always been in one phase of their beauty—that of +clear, bright sunshine and soft skies. Now it was as a different +country. He could not get rid of the feeling, foolish as it was, that +it was in reality different; and that the whole episode of the girl and +the rock was as a vision which had passed. It grew indistinct in the +presence of this iron reality of cold and wet. He could not assure +himself he had not imagined it all. Thus, belated, he came to thinking +of her again, and having now nothing else to do, he fell into daydreams +that had no other effect than to reveal to him the impatience which had +been, from the first, the real cause of his restlessness under the +temporary confinement. Now the impatience grew in intensity. He +resolved that if the morrow did not end the storm, he would tramp down +the gulch to make a call. All this time <i>Aliris</i> lay quite untouched.</p> + +<p>The next day dawned darker than ever. After breakfast Old Mizzou, as +usual, went out to feed the horses, and Bennington, through sheer +idleness, accompanied him. They distributed the oats and hay, and then +stood, sheltered from the direct rain, conversing idly.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the wind died and the rain ceased. In the place of the gloom +succeeded a strange sulphur-yellow glare which lay on the spirit with +almost physical oppression. Old Mizzou shouted something, and scrambled +excitedly to the house. Bennington looked about him bewildered.</p> + +<p>Over back of the hill, dimly discernible through the trees, loomed the +black irregular shape of a cloud, in dismal contrast to the yellow +glare which now filled all the sky. The horses, frightened, crowded up +close to Bennington, trying to push their noses over his shoulder. A +number of jays and finches rushed down through the woods and darted +rapidly, each with its peculiar flight, toward a clump of trees and +bushes standing on a ridge across the valley.</p> + +<p>From the cabin Old Mizzou was shouting to him. He turned to follow the +old man. Back of him something vast and awful roared out, and then all +at once he felt himself struggling with a rush of waters. He was jammed +violently against the posts of the corral. There he worked to his feet.</p> + +<p>The whole side of the hill was one vast spread of shallow tossing +water, as though a lake had been let fall on the summit of the ridge. +The smaller bushes were uprooted and swept along, but the trees and +saplings held their own.</p> + +<p>In a moment the stones and ridgelets began to show. It was over. Not a +drop of rain had fallen.</p> + +<p>Bennington climbed the corral fence and walked slowly to the house. The +blacksmith shop was filled to the window, and Arthur's cabin was not +much better. He entered the kitchen. The floor there was some two +inches submerged, but the water was slowly escaping through the +down-hill door by which Bennington had come in. Across the dining-room +door Mrs. Arthur had laid a folded rug. In front of the barrier stood +the lady herself, vigorously sweeping back the threatening water from +her only glorious apartment.</p> + +<p>Bennington took the broom from her and swept until the cessation of the +flood made it no longer necessary. Mrs. Arthur commenced to mop the +floor. The young man stepped outside. There he was joined a moment +later by the other two.</p> + +<p>They offered no explanation of their whereabouts during the trouble, +but Bennington surmised shrewdly that they had hunted a dry place.</p> + +<p>"Glory!" cried Old Mizzou. "Lucky she misses us!"</p> + +<p>"What was it? Where'd it come from?" inquired Bennington, shaking the +surface drops from his shoulders. He was wet through.</p> + +<p>"Cloud-burst," replied the miner. "She hit up th' ridge a ways. If +she'd ever burst yere, sonny, ye'd never know what drownded ye. Look at +that gulch!"</p> + +<p>The water had now drained from the hill entirely. It could be seen that +most of the surface earth had been washed away, leaving the skeleton of +the mountain bare. Some of the more slightly rooted trees had fallen, +or clung precariously to the earth with bony fingers. But the gulch +itself was terrible. The mountain laurel, the elders, the sarvis +bushes, the wild roses which, a few days before, had been fragrant and +beautiful with blossom and leaf and musical with birds, had +disappeared. In their stead rolled an angry brown flood whirling in +almost unbroken surface from bank to bank. Several oaks, submerged to +their branches, raised their arms helplessly. As Bennington looked, +one of these bent slowly and sank from sight. A moment later it shot +with great suddenness half its length into the air, was seized by the +eager waters, and whisked away as lightly as though it had been a tree +of straw. Dark objects began to come down with the stream. They seemed +to be trying to preserve a semblance of dignity in their stately +bobbing up and down, but apparently found the attempt difficult. The +roar was almost deafening, but even above it a strangely deliberate +grinding noise was audible. Old Mizzou said it was the grating of +boulders as they were rolled along the bed of the stream. The yellow +glow had disappeared from the air, and the gloom of rain had taken its +place.</p> + +<p>A fine mist began to fall. Bennington for the first time realized he +was wet and shivering, and so he turned inside to change his clothes.</p> + +<p>"It'll all be over in a few hours," remarked Arthur. "I reckon them +Spanish Gulch people'll wish they lived up-stream."</p> + +<p>Bennington paused at the doorway.</p> + +<p>"That's so," he commented. "How about Spanish Gulch? Will it all be +drowned out?"</p> + +<p>"No, I reckon not," replied Arthur. "They'll get wet down a lot, and +have wet blankets to sleep in to-night, that's all. You see the gulch +spraddles out down there, an' then too all this timber'll jam down this +gulch a-ways. That'll back up th' water some, and so she won't come all +of a rush."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Bennington.</p> + +<p>The afternoon was well enough occupied in repairing to some extent the +ravages of the brief storm. A length of the corral had succumbed to the +flood, many valuable tools in the blacksmith shop were in danger of +rust from the dampness, and Arthur and his wife had been completely +washed out. All three men worked hard setting things to rights. The +twilight caught them before their work was done.</p> + +<p>Bennington found himself too weary to attempt an unknown, +<i>débris</i>-covered road by dark. He played cribbage with Old Mizzou and +won.</p> + +<p>About half past nine he pushed back his chair and went outside. The +stars had come out by the thousand, and a solitary cricket, which had +in some way escaped the deluge, was chirping in the middle distance. +With a sudden uplift of the heart he realized that he would see "her" +on the morrow. He learned that no matter how philosophically we may +have borne a separation, the prospect of its near end shows us how +strong the repression has been; the lifting of the bonds makes evident +how much they have galled.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_X"></a><h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE WORLD MADE YOUNG</h3> +<br> + +<p>The morning fulfilled the promise of the night before. Bennington de +Laney awoke to a sun-bright world, fresh with the early breezes. A +multitude of birds outside the window bubbled and warbled and carolled +away with all their little mights, either in joy at the return of +peace, or in sorrow at the loss of their new-built houses. Sorrow and +joy sound much alike as nature tells them. The farther ridges and the +prairies were once more in view, but now, oh, wonder! the great plain +had cast aside its robes of monk brown, and had stepped forth in jolly +green-o'Lincoln. The air was full of tingling life. Altogether a +morning to cry one to leap eagerly from bed, to rush to the window, to +drink in deep draughts of electric balmy ozone, and to thank heaven for +the grace of mere existence.</p> + +<p>That at least is what Bennington did. And he did more. He despatched a +hasty breakfast, and went forth and saddled his steed, and rode away +down the gulch, with never a thought of sample tests, and never a care +whether the day's work were done or not. For this was springtime, and +the air was snapping with it. Near the chickens' shelter the burnished +old gobbler spread his tail and dragged his wings and puffed his +feathers and swelled himself red in the face, to the great admiration +of a demure gray-brown little turkey hen. Overhead wheeled two small +hawks screaming. They clashed, and light feathers came floating down +from the encounter; yet presently they flew away together to a hole in +a dead tree. Three song sparrows dashed almost to his very feet, so +busily fighting that they hardly escaped the pony's hoofs. Everywhere +love songs trilled from the underbrush; and Bennington de Laney, as +young, as full of life, as unmated as they, rode slowly along thinking +of his lady love, and----</p> + +<p>"Hullo! Where are you going?" cried she.</p> + +<p>He looked up with eager joy, to find that they had met in the middle +of what used to be the road. The gulch had been swept bare by the +flood, not only of every representative of the vegetable world, but +also of the very earth in which it had grown. From the remains of the +roadbed projected sharp flints and rocks, among which the broncos +picked their way.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Mary," he cried. "I was just coming to see you. Wasn't +it a great rain?"</p> + +<p>"And isn't the gulch awful? Down near our way the timber began to jam, +and it is all choked up; but up here it is desolate."</p> + +<p>He turned his horse about, and they paced slowly along together, +telling each other their respective experiences in the storm. It seemed +that the Lawtons had known nothing of the cloud-burst itself, except +from its effects in filling up the ravine. Rumours of the drowning of a +miner were about.</p> + +<p>It soon became evident that the brightness of the morning was reflected +from the girl's mood. She fairly sparkled with gaiety and high spirits. +The two got along famously.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" asked Bennington at last.</p> + +<p>"On the picnic, of course," she rejoined promptly. "Weren't you +invited? I thought you were."</p> + +<p>"I thought it would be too wet," he averred in explanation.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit! The rain dries quickly in the hills, and the cloud-burst +only came into this gulch. I have here," she went on, twisting around +in her saddle to inspect a large bundle and a pair of well-stuffed +saddle bags, "I have here a coffee pot, a frying pan, a little kettle, +two tin cups, and various sorts of grub. I am fixed for a scout sure. +Now when we get near your camp you must run up and get an axe and some +matches."</p> + +<p>Bennington observed with approval the corpulency of the bundle and the +skilful manner with which it was tied on. He noted, with perhaps more +approval, her lithe figure in its old-fashioned painter's blouse and +rough skirt, and the rosiness of her cheeks under a cloth cap caught on +awry. As the ponies sought a path at a snail's pace through the sharp +flints, she showed in a thousand ways how high the gaiety of her +animal spirits had mounted. She sang airy little pieces of songs. She +uttered single clear notes. She mocked, with a ludicrously feminine +croak, the hoarse voice of a crow sailing over them. She rallied +Bennington mercilessly on his corduroys, his yellow flapped pistol +holster, his laced boots. She went over in ridiculous pantomime the +scene of the mock lynching, until Bennington rolled in his saddle with +light-hearted laughter, and wondered how it was possible he had ever +taken the affair seriously. When he returned with the axe she was +hugely alarmed lest he harm himself by his awkward way of carrying it, +and gave him much wholesome advice in her most maternal manner. After +all of which she would catch his eye, and they would both laugh to +startle the birds.</p> + +<p>Blue Lead proved to be some distance away, for which fact Bennington +was not sorry. At length they surmounted a little ridge. Over its +summit there started into being a long cool "draw," broad and shallow +near the top, but deepening by insensible degrees into a cañon filled +already with broad-leaved shrubs, and thickly grown with saplings of +beech and ash. Through the screen of slender trunks could be seen +miniature open parks carpeted with a soft tiny fern, not high enough to +conceal the ears of a rabbit, or to quench the flame of the tiger lily +that grew there. Soon a little brook sprang from nowhere, and crept +timidly through and under thick mosses. After a time it increased in +size, and when it had become large enough to bubble over clear gravel, +Mary called a halt.</p> + +<p>"We'll have our picnic here," she decided.</p> + +<p>The ravine at this point received another little gulch into itself, and +where the two came together the bottom widened out into almost parklike +proportions. On one side was a grass-plot encroached upon by numerous +raspberry vines. On the other was the brook, flowing noisily in the +shade of saplings and of ferns.</p> + +<p>Bennington unsaddled the horses and led them over to the grass-plot, +where he picketed them securely in such a manner that they could not +become entangled. When he returned to the brookside he found that Mary +had undone her bundle and spread out its contents. There were various +utensils, some corn meal, coffee, two slices of ham, raw potatoes, a +small bottle of milk, some eggs wonderfully preserved by moss inside +the pail, and some bread and cake. Bennington eyed all this in dismay. +She caught his look and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Can't you cook? Well, I can; you just obey orders."</p> + +<p>"We won't get anything to eat before night," objected Bennington +dolefully as he looked over the decidedly raw material.</p> + +<p>"And he's <i>so</i> hungry!" she teased. "Never mind, you build a fire."</p> + +<p>Bennington brightened. He had one outdoor knack—that of lighting +matches in a wind and inducing refractory wood to burn. His skill had +often been called into requisition in the igniting of beach fires, and +the so-called "camp fires" of girls. He collected dry twigs from the +sunny places, cut slivers with his knife, built over the whole a +wigwam-shaped pyramid of heavier twigs, against which he leaned his +firewood. Then he touched off the combination. The slivers ignited the +twigs, the twigs set fire to the wigwam, the wigwam started the +firewood. Bennington's honour was vindicated. He felt proud.</p> + +<p>Mary, who had been filling the coffee pot at the creek, approached and +viewed the triumph. She cast upon it the glance of scorn.</p> + +<p>"That's no cooking fire," said she.</p> + +<p>So Bennington, under her directions, placed together the two parallel +logs with the hewn sides and built the small bright fire between them.</p> + +<p>"Now you see," she explained, "I can put my frying pan, and coffee pot, +and kettle across the two logs. I can get at them easy, and don't burn +my fingers. Now you may peel the potatoes."</p> + +<p>The Easterner peeled potatoes under constant laughing amendment as to +method. Then the small cook collected her materials about her, in grand +preparation for the final rites. She turned back the loose sleeves of +her blouse to the elbow.</p> + +<p>This drew an exclamation from Bennington.</p> + +<p>"Why, Mary, how white your arms are!" he cried, astonished.</p> + +<p>She surveyed her forearm with a little blush, turning it back and +forth.</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> pretty tanned," she agreed.</p> + +<p>The coffee pot was filled and placed across the logs at one end, and +left to its own devices a little removed from the hottest of the fire. +The kettle stood next, half filled with salted water, in which nestled +the potatoes like so many nested eggs. Mary mixed a mysterious +concoction of corn meal, eggs, butter, and some white powder, mushing +the whole up with milk and water. The mixture she spread evenly in the +bottom of the frying pan, which she set in a warm place.</p> + +<p>"It isn't much of a baking tin," she commented, eyeing it critically, +"but it'll do."</p> + +<p>Under her direction Bennington impaled the two slices of ham on long +green switches, and stuck these upright in the ground in such a +position that the warmth from the flames could just reach them.</p> + +<p>"They'll never cook there," he objected.</p> + +<p>"Didn't expect they would," she retorted briefly. Then relenting, +"They finish better if they're warmed through first," she explained.</p> + +<p>By this time the potatoes were bubbling energetically and the coffee +was sending out a fragrant steam. Mary stabbed experimentally at the +vegetables with a sharpened sliver. Apparently satisfied, she drew back +with a happy sigh. She shook her hair from her eyes and smiled across +at Bennington.</p> + +<p>"Ready! Go!" cried she.</p> + +<p>The frying pan was covered with a tin plate on which were heaped live +coals. More coals were poked from between the logs on to a flat place, +were spread out thin, and were crowned by the frying pan and its +glowing freight. Bennington held over the fire a switch of ham in each +hand, taking care, according to directions, not to approach the actual +blaze. Mary borrowed his hunting knife and disappeared into the +thicket. In a moment she returned with a kettle-lifter, improvised very +simply from a forked branch of a sapling. One of the forks was left +long for the hand, the other was cut short. The result was like an +Esquimaux fishhook. She then relieved Bennington of his task, while +that young man lifted the kettle from the fire and carefully drained +away the water.</p> + +<p>"Dinner!" she called gaily.</p> + +<p>Bennington looked up surprised. He had been so absorbed in the spells +wrought by this dainty woods fairy that he had forgotten the flight of +time. It was enough for him to watch the turn of her wrist, the swift +certainty of her movements, to catch the glow lit in her face by the +fire over which she bent. Then he suddenly remembered that her +movements had all along tended toward dinner, and were not got up +simply and merely that he might discover new charms in the small +housekeeper.</p> + +<p>He found himself seated on a rock with a tin plate in his lap, a tin +cup at his side, and an eager little lady in front of him, anxious that +he should taste all her dishes and deliver an opinion forthwith.</p> + +<p>The coffee he pronounced nectar; the ham and mealy potatoes, delicious; +the "johnny-cake" of a yellow golden crispness which the originator of +johnny-cake might envy; and the bread and cake and butter and sugar +only the less meritorious that they had not been prepared by her own +hands and on the spot.</p> + +<p>"And see!" she cried, clapping her hands, "the sun is still directly +over us. It is not night yet, silly boy!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>AND HE DID EAT</h3> +<br> + +<p>After the meal he wanted to lie down in the grasses and watch the +clouds sail by, but she would have none of it. She haled him away to +the brookside. There she showed him how to wash dishes by filling them +half full of water in which fine gravel has been mixed, and then +whirling the whole rapidly until the tin is rubbed quite clean. Never +was prosaic task more delightful. They knelt side by side on the bank, +under the dense leaves, and dabbled in the water happily. The ferns +were fresh and cool. Once a redbird shot confidently down from above on +half-closed wing, caught sight of these intruders, brought up with a +swish of feathers, and eyed them gravely for some time from a +neighbouring treelet. Apparently he was satisfied with his inspection, +for after a few minutes he paid no further attention to them, but went +about his business quietly. When the dishes had been washed, Mary +stood over Bennington while he packed them in the bundle and strapped +them on the saddle.</p> + +<p>"Now," said she at last, "we have nothing more to think of until we go +home."</p> + +<p>She was like a child, playing with exhaustless spirits at the most +trivial games. Not for a moment would she listen to anything of a +serious nature. Bennington, with the heavier pertinacity of men when +they have struck a congenial vein, tried to repeat to some extent the +experience of the last afternoon at the rock. Mary laughed his +sentiment to ridicule and his poetics to scorn. Everything he said she +twisted into something funny or ridiculous. He wanted to sit down and +enjoy the calm peace of the little ravine in which they had pitched +their temporary camp, but she made a quiet life miserable to him. At +last in sheer desperation he arose to pursue, whereupon she vanished +lightly into the underbrush. A moment later he heard her clear laugh +mocking him from some elder thickets a hundred yards away. Bennington +pursued with ardour. It was as though a slow-turning ocean liner were +to try to run down a lively little yacht.</p> + +<p>Bennington had always considered girls as weak creatures, incapable of +swift motion, and needing assistance whenever the country departed from +the artificial level of macadam. He had also thought himself fairly +active. He revised these ideas. This girl could travel through the thin +brush of the creek bottom two feet to his one, because she ran more +lightly and surely, and her endurance was not a matter for discussion. +The question of second wind did not concern her any more than it does a +child, whose ordinary mode of progression is heartbreaking. Bennington +found that he was engaged in the most delightful play of his life. He +shouted aloud with the fun of it. He had the feeling that he was +grasping at a sunbeam, or a mist-shape that always eluded him.</p> + +<p>He would lose her utterly, and would stand quite motionless, listening, +for a long time. Suddenly, without warning, an exaggerated leaf crown +would fall about his neck, and he would be overwhelmed with ridicule at +the outrageous figure he presented. Then for a time she seemed +everywhere at once. The mottled sunlight under the trees danced and +quivered after her, smiling and darkening as she dimpled or was grave. +The little whirlwinds of the gulches seized the leaves and danced with +her too, the birches and aspens tossed their hands, and rising ever +higher and wilder and more elf-like came the mocking cadences of her +laughter.</p> + +<p>After a time she disappeared again. Bennington stood still, waiting for +some new prank, but he waited in vain. He instituted a search, but the +search was fruitless. He called, but received no reply. At last he made +his way again to the dell in which they had lunched, and there he found +her, flat on her back, looking at the little summer clouds through +wide-open eyes.</p> + +<p>Her mood appeared to have changed. Indeed that seemed to be +characteristic of her; that her lightness was not so much the lightness +of thistle down, which is ever airy, the sport of every wind, but +rather that of the rose vine, mobile and swaying in every breeze, yet +at the same time rooted well in the wholesome garden earth. She cared +now to be silent. In a little while Bennington saw that she had fallen +asleep. For the first time he looked upon her face in absolute repose.</p> + +<p>Feature by feature, line by line, he went over it, and into his heart +crept that peculiar yearning which seems, on analysis, half pity for +what has past and half fear for what may come. It is bestowed on little +children, and on those whose natures, in spite of their years, are +essentially childlike. For this girl's face was so pathetically young. +Its sensitive lips pouted with a child's pout, its pointed chin was +delicate with the delicacy that is lost when the teeth have had often +to be clenched in resolve; its cheek was curved so softly, its long +eyelashes shaded that cheek so purely. Yet somewhere, like an +intangible spirit which dwelt in it, unseen except through its littlest +effects, Bennington seemed to trace that subtle sadness, or still more +subtle mystery, which at times showed so strongly in her eyes. He +caught himself puzzling over it, trying to seize it. It was most like a +sorrow, and yet like a sorrow which had been outlived. Or, if a +mystery, it was as a mystery which was such only to others, no longer +to herself. The whole line of thought was too fine-drawn for +Bennington's untrained perceptions. Yet again, all at once, he realized +that this very fact was one of the girl's charms to him; that her mere +presence stirred in him perceptions, intuitions, thoughts—yes, even +powers—which he had never known before. He felt that she developed +him. He found that instead of being weak he was merely latent; that now +the latent perceptions were unfolding. Since he had known her he had +felt himself more of a man, more ready to grapple with facts and +conditions on his own behalf, more inclined to take his own view of the +world and to act on it. She had given him independence, for she had +made him believe in himself, and belief in one's self is the first +principle of independence. Bennington de Laney looked back on his old +New York self as on a being infinitely remote.</p> + +<p>She awoke and opened her eyes slowly, and looked at him without +blinking. The sun had gone nearly to the ridge top, and a Wilson's +thrush was celebrating with his hollow notes the artificial twilight +of its shadow.</p> + +<p>She smiled at him a little vaguely, the mists of sleep clouding her +eyes. It is the unguarded moment, the instant of awakening. At such an +instant the mask falls from before the features of the soul. I do not +know what Bennington saw.</p> + +<p>"Mary, Mary!" he cried uncontrolledly, "I love you! I love you, girl."</p> + +<p>He had never before seen any one so vexed. She sat up at once.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>why</i> did you have to say that!" she cried angrily. "Why did you +have to spoil things! Why couldn't you have let it go along as it was +without bringing <i>that</i> into it!"</p> + +<p>She arose and began to walk angrily up and down, kicking aside the +sticks and stones as she encountered them.</p> + +<p>"I was just beginning to like you, and now you do this. <i>Oh</i>, I am so +angry!" She stamped her little foot. "I thought I had found a man for +once who could be a good friend to me, whom I could meet unguardedly, +and behold! the third day he tells me this!"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," stammered Bennington, his new tenderness fleeing, +frightened, into the inner recesses of his being. "I beg your pardon, I +didn't know—<i>Don't</i>! I won't say it again. Please!"</p> + +<p>The declaration had been manly. This was ridiculously boyish. The girl +frowned at him in two minds as to what to do.</p> + +<p>"Really, truly," he assured her.</p> + +<p>She laughed a little, scornfully. "Very well, I'll give you one more +chance. I like you too well to drop you entirely." (What an air of +autocracy she took, to be sure!) "You mustn't speak of that again. And +you must forget it entirely." She lowered at him, a delicious picture +of wrath.</p> + +<p>They saddled the horses and took their way homeward in silence. The +tenderness put out its flower head from the inner sanctuary. Apparently +the coast was clear. It ventured a little further. The evening was very +shadowy and sweet and musical with birds. The tenderness boldly invaded +Bennington's eyes, and spoke, oh, so timidly, from his lips.</p> + +<p>"I will do just as you say," it hesitated, "and I'll be very, very +good indeed. But am I to have no hope at all?"</p> + +<p>"Why can't you keep off that standpoint entirely?"</p> + +<p>"Just that one question; then I will."</p> + +<p>"Well," grudgingly, "I suppose nothing on earth could keep the average +mortal from hoping; but I can't answer that there is any ground for +it."</p> + +<p>"When can I speak of it again?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know—after the Pioneer's Picnic."</p> + +<p>"That is when you cease to be a mystery, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>She sighed. "That is when I become a greater mystery—even to myself, I +fear," she added in a murmur too low for him to catch.</p> + +<p>They rode on in silence for a little space more. The night shadows were +flowing down between the trees like vapour. The girl of her own accord +returned to the subject.</p> + +<p>"You are greatly to be envied," she said a little sadly, "for you are +really young. I am old, oh, very, very old! You have trust and +confidence. I have not. I can sympathize; I can understand. But that +is all. There is something within me that binds all my emotions so fast +that I can not give way to them. I want to. I wish I could. But it is +getting harder and harder for me to think of absolutely trusting, in +the sense of giving out the self that is my own. Ah, but you are to be +envied! You have saved up and accumulated the beautiful in your nature. +I have wasted mine, and now I sit by the roadside and cry for it. My +only hope and prayer is that a higher and better something will be +given me in place of the wasted, and yet I have no right to expect it. +Silly, isn't it?" she concluded bitterly.</p> + +<p>Bennington made no reply.</p> + +<p>They drew near the gulch, and could hear the mellow sound of bells as +the town herd defiled slowly down it toward town.</p> + +<p>"We part here," the young man broke the long silence. "When do I see +you again?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Day after?"</p> + +<p>The girl shook herself from a reverie. "If you want me to believe you, +come every afternoon to the Rock, and wait. Some day I will meet you +there."</p> + +<p>She was gone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>OLD MIZZOU RESIGNS</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington went faithfully to the Rock for four days. During whole +afternoons he sat there looking out over the Bad Lands. At sunset he +returned to camp. <i>Aliris: A Romance of all Time</i> gathered dust. +Letters home remained unwritten. Prospecting was left to the capable +hands of Old Mizzou until, much to Bennington's surprise, that +individual resigned his position.</p> + +<p>The samples lay in neatly tied coffee sacks just outside the door. The +tabulations and statistics only needed copying to prepare them for the +capitalist's eye. The information necessary to the understanding of +them reposed in a grimy notebook, requiring merely throwing into shape +as a letter to make them valuable to the Eastern owner of the property. +Anybody could do that.</p> + +<p>Old Mizzou explained these things to Bennington.</p> + +<p>"You-all does this jes's well's I," he said. "You expresses them +samples East, so as they kin assay 'em; an' you sends them notes and +statistics. Then all they is to do is to pay th' rest of the boys when +th' money rolls in. That ain't none of my funeral."</p> + +<p>"But there's the assessment work," Bennington objected.</p> + +<p>"That comes along all right. I aims to live yere in the camp jest th' +same as usual; and I'll help yo' git started when you-all aims to do +th' work."</p> + +<p>"What do you want to quit for, then? If you live here, you may as well +draw your pay."</p> + +<p>"No, sonny, that ain't my way. I has some prospectin' of my own to do, +an' as long as I is a employay of Bishop, I don't like to take his time +fer my work."</p> + +<p>Bennington thought this very high-minded on the part of Old Mizzou.</p> + +<p>"Very well," he agreed, "I'll write Bishop."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," put in the miner hastily, "no need to trouble. I resigns in +writin', of course; an' I sees to it myself."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, if you'll help me with the assessment work, when shall we +begin?"</p> + +<p>"C'yant jest now," reflected Old Mizzou, "'cause, as I tells you, I +wants to do some work of my own. A'ter th' Pioneer's Picnic, I +reckons."</p> + +<p>The Pioneer's Picnic seemed to limit many things.</p> + +<p>Bennington shipped the ore East, tabulated the statistics, and wrote +his report. About two weeks later he received a letter from Bishop +saying that the assay of the samples had been very poor—not at all up +to expectations—and asking some further information. As to the latter, +Bennington consulted Old Mizzou. The miner said, "I told you so," and +helped on the answer. After this the young man heard nothing further +from his employer. As no more checks came from the East, he found +himself with nothing to do.</p> + +<p>For four afternoons, as has been said, he fruitlessly haunted the Rock. +On the fifth morning he met the girl on horseback. She was quite the +same as at first, and they resumed their old relations as if the fatal +picnic had never taken place. In a very few days they were as intimate +as though they had known each other for years.</p> + +<p>Bennington read to her certain rewritten parts of <i>Aliris: A Romance of +all Time,</i> which would have been ridiculous to any but these two. They +saw it through the glamour of youth; for, in spite of her assertions of +great age, the girl, too, felt the whirl of that elixir in her veins. You +see, he was twenty-one and she was twenty: magic years, more venerable +than threescore and ten. She gave him sympathy, which was just what he +needed for the sake of his self-confidence and development, just the +right thing for him in that effervescent period which is so necessary a +concomitant of growth. The young business man indulges in a hundred wild +schemes, to be corrected by older heads. The young artist paints strange +impressionism, stranger symbolism, and perhaps a strangest other-ism, +before at last he reaches the medium of his individual genius. The young +writer thinks deep and philosophical thoughts which he expresses in +measured polysyllabic language; he dreams wild dreams of ideal motive, +which he sets forth in beautiful allegorical tales full of imagery; and +he delights in Rhetoric—flower-crowned, flashing-eyed, deep-voiced +Rhetoric, whom he clasps to his heart and believes to be true, although +the whole world declares her to be false; and then, after a time, he +decides not to introduce a new system of metaphysics, but to tell a plain +story plainly. Ah, it is a beautiful time to those who dwell in it, and +such a funny time to those who do not!</p> + +<p>They came to possess an influence over each other. She decided how they +should meet; he, how they should act. She had only to be gay, and he +was gay; to be sad, and he was sad; to show her preference for serious +discourse, and he talked quietly of serious things; to sigh for dreams, +and he would rhapsodize. It sometimes terrified her almost when she saw +how much his mood depended on hers. But once the mood was established, +her dominance ceased and his began. If they were sad or gay or +thoughtful or poetic, it was in his way and not in hers. He took the +lead masterfully, and perhaps the more effectually in that it was done +unconsciously. And in a way which every reader will understand, but +which genius alone could put into words, this mutual psychical +dependence made them feel the need of each other more strongly than any +merely physical dependence ever could.</p> + +<p>There is much to do in a new and romantic country, where the imminence +of a sordid, dreary future, when the soil will raise its own people and +the crop will be poor, is mercifully veiled. The future then counts +little in the face of the Past—the Past with its bearded strong men of +other lands, bringing their power and vigour here to be moulded and +directed by the influences of the frontier. Its shadow still lies over +the land.</p> + +<p>They did it all. The Rock was still the favourite place to read or +talk—crossbars nailed on firmly made "shinning" unnecessary now—but +it was often deserted for days while they explored. Bennington had +bought the little bronco, and together they extended their +investigations of the country in all directions. They rode to Spring +Creek Valley. They passed the Range over into Custer Valley. Once they +climbed Harney by way of Grizzly Gulch.</p> + +<p>Thus they grew to know the Hills intimately. From the summit of the +Rock they would often look abroad over the tangle of valleys and +ridges, selecting the objective points for their next expedition. Many +surprises awaited them, for they found that here, as everywhere, a +seemingly uniform exterior covered an almost infinite variety.</p> + +<p>Or again, the horses were given a rest. The sarvis-berries ripened, and +they picked hatfuls. Then followed the raspberries on the stony hills. +They walked four unnecessary miles to see a forest fire, and six to buy +buckskin work from a band of Sioux who had come up into the timber for +their annual supply of tepee poles. They taught their ponies tricks. +They even went wading together, like two small children, in a pool of +Battle Creek.</p> + +<p>Bennington was deliciously, carelessly, forgetfully happy. Only there +was Jim Fay. That individual was as much of a persecution as ever, and +he seemed to enjoy a greater intimacy with the girl than did the +Easterner. He did not see her as often as did the latter, but he +appeared to be more in her confidence. Bennington hated Jim Fay.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE SPIRES OF STONE</h3> +<br> + +<p>One afternoon they had pushed over back of Harney, up a very steep +little trail in a very tiny cleft-like cañon, verdant and cool. All at +once the trail had stood straight on end. The ponies scrambled up +somehow, and they found themselves on a narrow open <i>mesa</i> splashed +with green moss and matted with an aromatic covering of pine needles.</p> + +<p>Beyond the easternmost edge of the plateau stood great spires of stone, +a dozen in all, several hundred feet high, and of solid granite. They +soared up grandly into the open blue, like so many cathedral spires, +drawing about them that air of solitude and stillness which accompanies +always the sublime in Nature. Even boundless space was amplified at the +bidding of their solemn uplifted fingers. The girl reined in her horse.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she murmured in a hushed voice, "I feel impertinent—as though I +were intruding."</p> + +<p>A squirrel many hundreds of feet below could be heard faintly barking.</p> + +<p>"There <i>is</i> something solemn about them," the boy agreed in the same +tone, "but, after all, we are nothing to them. They are thinking their +own thoughts, far above everything in the world."</p> + +<p>She slipped from her horse.</p> + +<p>"Let's sit here and watch them," she said. "I want to look at them, and +<i>feel</i> them."</p> + +<p>They sat on the moss, and stared solemnly across at the great spires of +stone.</p> + +<p>"They are waiting for something there," she observed; "for something +that has not come to pass, and they are looking for it always toward +the East. Don't you see how they are waiting?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, like Indian warriors wrapped each in his blanket. They might be +the Manitous. They say there are lots of them in the Hills."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course!" she cried, on fire with the idea. "They are the Gods +of the people, and they are waiting for something that is +coming—something from the East. What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Civilization," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"Yes! And when this something, this Civilization, comes, then the +Indians are to be destroyed, and so their Gods are always watching for +it toward the East."</p> + +<p>"And," he went on, "when it comes at last, then the Manitous will have +to die, and so the Indians know that their hour has struck when these +great stone needles fall."</p> + +<p>"Why, we have made a legend," she exclaimed with wonder.</p> + +<p>They stretched out on their backs along the slope, and stared up at the +newly dignified Manitous in delicious silence.</p> + +<p>"There was a legend once, you remember?" he began hesitatingly, "the +first day we were on the Rock together. It was about a Spirit +Mountain."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember, the day we saw the Shadow."</p> + +<p>"You said you'd tell it to me some time."</p> + +<p>"Did I?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you think now is a good time?"</p> + +<p>She considered a moment idly.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, I suppose so," she assented, after a pause. "It isn't much +of a legend though." She clasped her hands back of her head. "It goes +like this," she began comfortably:</p> + +<p>"Once upon a time, when the world was very young, there was an evil +Manitou named <i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i>. He was a very wicked Manitou, but he +was also very accomplished, for he could change himself into any shape +he wished to assume, and he could travel swifter than the wind. But he +was also very wicked. In old times the centres of all the trees were +fat, and people could get food from them, but <i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i> walked +through the forest and pushed his staff down through the middle of the +trunks, and that is why the cores of the trees are dark-coloured. Maple +sap used to be pure sirup once, too, but <i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i> diluted it +with rain water just out of spite. But there was one peculiar thing +about <i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i>. He could not cross a vein of gold or of silver. +There was some sort of magic in them that turned him back—repelled +him.</p> + +<p>"Now, one day two lovers were wandering about on the prairie away east +of here. One of them was named <i>Mon-e-dowa</i>, or the Bird Lover, and the +other was <i>Muj-e-ah-je-wan</i>, or Rippling Water. And as these two walked +over the plains talking together, along came the evil spirit, +<i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i>, and as soon as he saw them he chased them, intending +to kill them and drink their blood, as was his custom.</p> + +<p>"They fled far over the prairie. Everywhere that <i>Muj-e-ah-je-wan</i> +stepped, prairie violets grew up; and everywhere that <i>Mon-e-dowa</i> +stepped, a lark sprang up and began to sing. But the wicked +<i>Ne-naw-bo-shoo</i> gained on them fast, for he could run very swiftly.</p> + +<p>"Then suddenly they saw in front of them a great mountain, grown with +pines and seamed with fissures. This astonished them greatly, for they +knew there were no mountains in the prairie country at all; but they +had no time to spare, so they climbed quickly up a broad cañon and +concealed themselves.</p> + +<p>"Now, when the wicked Manitou came along he tried to enter the cañon +too, but he had to stop, because down in the depths of the mountain +were veins of gold and silver which he could not cross. For many days +he raged back and forth, but in vain. At last he got tired and went +away.</p> + +<p>"Then <i>Mon-e-dowa</i> and <i>Muj-e-ah-je-wan</i>, who had been living quite +peacefully on the game with which the mountain swarmed, came out of the +cañon and turned toward home. But as soon as they had set foot on the +level prairie again, the mountain vanished like a cloud, and then they +knew they had been aided by <i>Man-a-boo-sho</i>, the good Manitou."</p> + +<p>The girl arose and shook her skirt free of the pine needles that clung +to it.</p> + +<p>"Ever since then," she went on, eyeing Bennington saucily sideways, +"the mountain has been invisible except to a very few. The legend says +that when a maid and a warrior see it together they will be----"</p> + +<p>"What?" asked Bennington as she paused.</p> + +<p>"Dead within the year!" she cried gaily, and ran lightly to her pony.</p> + +<p>"Did you like my legend?" she asked, as the ponies, foot-bunched, +minced down the steepest of the trail.</p> + +<p>"Very much; all but the moral."</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to die?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll have to."</p> + +<p>"That would be the same thing."</p> + +<p>And Bennington dared talk in this way, for the next day began the +Pioneer's Picnic, and lately she had been very kind.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>THE PIONEER'S PICNIC</h3> +<br> + +<p>The Lawtons were not going to the picnic. Bennington was to take Mary +down to Rapid, where the girl was to stay with a certain Dr. McPherson +of the School of Mines.</p> + +<p>An early start was accomplished. They rode down the gulch through the +dwarf oaks, past the farthermost point, and so out into the hard level +dirt road of Battle Creek cañon. Beyond were the pines, and a rugged +road, flint-edged, full of dips and rises, turns and twists, hovering +on edges, or bosoming itself in deep rock-strewn cuts. Mary's little +pony cantered recklessly through it all, scampering along like a +playful dog after a stone, leading Bennington's larger animal by +several feet. He had full leisure to notice the regular flop of the Tam +o'Shanter over the lighter dance of the hair, the increasing rosiness +of the cheeks dimpled into almost continual laughter, to catch stray +snatches of gay little remarks thrown out at random as they tore along. +After a time they drew out from the shadow of the pines into the +clearing at Rockerville, where the hydraulic "giants" had eaten away +the hill-sides, and left in them ugly unhealed sores. Then more rough +pine-shadowed roads, from which occasionally would open for a moment +broad vistas of endless glades, clear as parks, breathless descents, or +sharp steep cuts at the bottom of which Spring Creek, or as much of it +as was not turned into the Rockerville sluices, brawled or idled along. +It was time for lunch, so they dismounted near a deep still pool and +ate. The ponies cropped the sparse grasses, or twisted on their backs, +all four legs in the air. Squirrels chattered and scolded overhead. +Some of the indigo-coloured jays of the lowlands shot in long level +flight between the trees. The girl and the boy helped each other, +hindered each other, playing here and there near the Question, but +swerving always deliciously just in time.</p> + +<p>After lunch, more riding through more pines. The road dipped strongly +once, then again; and then abruptly the forest ceased, and they found +themselves cantering over broad rolling meadows knee-high with grasses, +from which meadow larks rose in all directions like grasshoppers. Soon +after they passed the canvas "schooners" of some who had started the +evening before. Down the next long slope the ponies dropped cautiously +with bunched feet and tentative steps. Spring Creek was forded for the +last time, another steep grassy hill was surmounted, and they looked +abroad into Rapid Valley and over to the prairie beyond.</p> + +<p>Behind them the Hills lay, dark with the everlasting greenery of the +North—even, low, with only sun-browned Harney to raise its cliff-like +front above the rest of the range. As though by a common impulse they +reined in their horses and looked back.</p> + +<p>"I wonder just where the Rock is?" she mused.</p> + +<p>They tried to guess at its location.</p> + +<p>The treeless ridge on which they were now standing ran like a belt +outside the Hills. They journeyed along its summit until late in the +afternoon, and then all at once found the city of Rapid lying below +them at the mouth of a mighty cañon, like a toy village on fine velvet +brown.</p> + +<p>In the city they separated, Mary going to the McPhersons', Bennington +to the hotel. It was now near to sunset, so it was agreed that +Bennington was to come round the following morning to get her. At the +hotel Bennington spent an interesting evening viewing the pioneers with +their variety of costume, manners, and speech. He heard many good +stories, humorous and blood-curdling, and it was very late before he +finally got to bed.</p> + +<p>The immediate consequence was that he was equally late to breakfast. He +hurried through that meal and stepped out into the street, with the +intention of hastening to Dr. McPherson's for Mary, but this he found +to be impossible because of the overcrowded condition of the streets. +The sports of the day had already begun. From curb to curb the way was +jammed with a dense mass of men, women, and children, through whom he +had to worm his way. After ten feet of this, he heard his name called, +and looking up, caught sight of Mary herself, perched on a dry-goods +box, frantically waving a handkerchief in his direction.</p> + +<p>"You're a nice one!" she cried in mock reproach as he struggled toward +her. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flew red signals of enjoyment.</p> + +<p>Bennington explained.</p> + +<p>"I know. Well, it didn't matter, any way. I just captured this box. +Climb up. There's room. I've lost the doctor and Mrs. McPherson +already."</p> + +<p>Two mounted men, decorated with huge tin marshals' badges, rode slowly +along forcing the crowd back to the right and to the left. The first +horse race was on. Suddenly there was an eager scramble, a cloud of +dust, a swift impression of dim ghostlike figures. It was over. The +crowd flowed into the street again.</p> + +<p>The two pressed together, hand in hand, on the top of the dry-goods +box. They laughed at each other and everything. Something beautiful was +very near to them, for this was the Pioneer's Picnic, and both +remembered that the Pioneer's Picnic marked the limit of many things.</p> + +<p>"What's next? What's next?" she called excitedly to a tall young +cattleman.</p> + +<p>The cowboy looked up at her, and his face relaxed into a pleased smile.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's a drillin' match over in the next street, miss," he answered +politely. "You'd better run right along over and get a good place." He +glanced at de Laney, smiled again, and turned away, apparently to +follow his own advice.</p> + +<p>"Come on, we'll follow him," cried Mary, jumping down.</p> + +<p>"And abandon our box?" objected Bennington. But she was already in full +pursuit of the tall cowboy.</p> + +<p>The ring around the large boulder—dragged by mule team from the +hills—had just begun to form when they arrived, so they were enabled +to secure good places near the front rank, where they kneeled on their +handkerchiefs, and the crowd hemmed them in at the back. The drilling +match was to determine which pair of contestants could in a given +time, with sledge and drill, cut the deepest hole in a granite boulder. +To one who stood apart, the sight must have been picturesque in the +extreme. The white dust, stirred by restless feet, rose lazily across +the heated air. The sun shone down clear and hot with a certain +wide-eyed glare that is seen only in the rarefied atmosphere of the +West. Around the outer edge of the ring hovered a few anxious small +boys, agonized that they were missing part of the show. Stolidly +indifferent Indians, wrapped close in their blankets, smoked silently, +awaiting the next pony race, the riders of which were skylarking about +trying to pull each other from their horses' backs.</p> + +<p>When the last pair had finished, the judges measured the depths of the +holes drilled, and announced the victors.</p> + +<p>The crowd shouted and broke for the saloons. The latter had been plying +a brisk business, so that men were about ready to embrace in +brotherhood or in battle with equal alacrity.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it was the dinner hour. The crowd broke. Bennington and Mary +realized they had been wandering about hand in hand. They directed +their steps toward the McPhersons with the greatest propriety. It was a +glorious picnic.</p> + +<p>The house was gratefully cool and dark after the summer heat out of +doors. The little doctor sat in the darkest room and dissertated +cannily on the strange variety of subjects which a Scotchman can always +bring up on the most ordinary occasions.</p> + +<p>The doctor was not only a learned man, as was evidenced by his position +in the School of Mines and his wonderful collections, but was a scout +of long standing, a physician of merit, and an Indian authority of +acknowledged weight. Withal he was so modest that these things became +known only by implication or hearsay, never by direct evidence. Mrs. +McPherson was not Scotch at all, but plain comfortable American, +redolent of wholesome cleanliness and good temper, and beaming with +kindliness and round spectacles. Never was such a doctor; never was +such a Mrs. McPherson; never was such a dinner! And they brought in +after-dinner coffee in small cups.</p> + +<p>"Ah, ha! Mr. de Laney," laughed the doctor, who had been watching him +with quizzical eye. "We're pretty bad, but we aren't got quite to +savagery yet."</p> + +<p>Bennington hastened to disavow.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," the doctor reassured him; "that's all right. I +didn't wonder at ye in this country, but Mrs. McPherson and mysel' jest +take a wee trip occasionally to keep our wits bright. Isn't it so, Mrs. +Mac?"</p> + +<p>"It is that," said she with a doubtful inner thought as to the +propriety of offering cream.</p> + +<p>"And as for you," went on the doctor dissertatively, "I suppose ye're +getting to be somewhat of a miner yourself. I mind me we did a bit of +assay work for your people the other day—the Crazy Horse, wasn't it? A +good claim I should judge, from the sample, and so I wrote Davidson."</p> + +<p>"When was this?" asked the Easterner, puzzled.</p> + +<p>"The last week."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know he had had any assaying done."</p> + +<p>"O weel," said the doctor comfortably, "it may not have occurred to him +to report yet. It was rich."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. McPherson, let's talk about dresses," called Mary across the +table. "Here we've come down for a <i>holiday</i> and they insist on talking +mining."</p> + +<p>And so the subject was dropped, but Bennington could not get it out of +his mind. Why should Mizzou have had the Crazy Horse assayed without +saying anything about it to him? Why had he not reported the result? +How did it happen that the doctor's assistants had found the ore rich +when the company's assayers East had proved it poor? Why should Mizzou +have it assayed at all, since he was no longer connected with the +company? But, above all, supposing he had done this with the intention +of keeping it secret from Bennington, what possible benefit or +advantage could the old man derive from such an action?</p> + +<p>He puzzled over this. It seemed to still the effervescence of his joy. +He realized suddenly that he had been very careless in a great many +respects. The work had all been trusted to Davidson, while he, often, +had never even seen it. He had been entirely occupied with the girl. He +experienced that sudden sinking feeling which always comes to a man +whom neglected duty wakes from pleasure.</p> + +<p>What was Davidson's object? Could it be that he hoped to "buy in" a +rich claim at a low figure, and to that end had sent poor samples East? +The more he thought of this the more reasonable it seemed. His +resignation was for the purpose of putting him in the position of +outside purchaser.</p> + +<p>He resolved to carry through the affair diplomatically. During the +afternoon he ruminated on how this was to be done. Mary could not +understand his preoccupation. It piqued her. A slight strangeness +sprang up between them which he was too <i>distrait</i> to notice. Finally, +as he tumbled into bed that night, an idea so brilliant came to him +that he sat bolt upright in sheer delight at his own astuteness.</p> + +<p>He would ask Dr. McPherson for a copy of the assays. If his suspicions +were correct, these assays would represent the richest samples. He +would send them at once to Bishop with a statement of the case, in that +manner putting the capitalist on his guard. There was something +exquisitely humorous to him in the idea of thus turning to his own use +the information which Davidson had accumulated for his fraudulent +purposes. He went to sleep chuckling over it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XV"></a><h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN</h3> +<br> + +<p>The next morning the young man had quite regained his good spirits. The +girl, on the other hand, was rather quiet.</p> + +<p>Dr. McPherson made no objections to furnishing a copy of the assays. +The records, however, were at the School of Mines. He drove down to get +them, and in the interim the two young people, at Mrs. McPherson's +suggestion, went to see the train come in.</p> + +<p>The platform of the station was filled to suffocation. Assuming that +the crowd's intention was to view the unaccustomed locomotive, it was +strange it did not occur to them that the opposite side of the track or +the adjacent prairie would afford more elbow room. They huddled +together on the boards of the platform as though the appearance of the +spectacle depended on every last individual's keeping his feet from the +naked earth. They pushed good-naturedly here and there, expostulating, +calling to one another facetiously, looking anxiously down the +straight, dwindling track for the first glimpse of the locomotive.</p> + +<p>Mary and Bennington found themselves caught up at once into the vortex. +After a few moments of desperate clinging together, they were forced +into the front row, where they stood on the very edge, braced back +against the pressure, half laughing, half vexed.</p> + +<p>The train drew in with a grinding rush. From the step swung the +conductor. Faces looked from the open windows.</p> + +<p>On the platform of one of the last cars stood a young girl and three +men. One of the men was elderly, with white hair and side whiskers. The +other two were young and well dressed. The girl was of our best +patrician type—the type that may know little, think little, say +little, and generally amount to little, and yet carry its negative +qualities with so used an air of polite society as to raise them by +sheer force to the dignity of positive virtues. From head to foot she +was faultlessly groomed. From eye to attitude she was languidly +superior—the impolitic would say bored. Yet every feature of her +appearance and bearing, even to the very tips of her enamelled and +sensibly thick boots, implied that she was of a different class from +the ordinary, and satisfied on "common people" that impulse which +attracts her lesser sisters to the vulgar menagerie. She belonged to +the proper street—at the proper time of day. Any one acquainted with +the species would have known at once that this private-car trip to +Deadwood was to please the prosperous-looking gentleman with the side +whiskers, and that it was made bearable only by the two smooth-shaven +individuals in the background.</p> + +<p>She caught sight of the pair directly in front of her, and raised her +lorgnette with a languid wrist.</p> + +<p>Her stare was from the outside-the-menagerie standpoint. Bennington was +not used to it. For the moment he had the Fifth Avenue feeling, and +knew that he was not properly dressed. Therefore, naturally, he was +confused. He lowered his head and blushed a little. Then he became +conscious that Mary's clear eyes were examining him in a very troubled +fashion.</p> + +<p>Three hours and a half afterward it suddenly occurred to him that she +might have thought he had blushed and lowered his head because he was +ashamed to be seen by this other girl in her company; but it was then +too late.</p> + +<p>The train pulled out. The Westerners at once scattered in all +directions. Half an hour later the choking cloud dusts rose like smoke +from the different trails that led north or south or west to the heart +of the Hills.</p> + +<p>"The picnic is over," he suggested gently at their noon camping place.</p> + +<p>"Yes, thank Heaven!"</p> + +<p>"You remember your promise?"</p> + +<p>"What promise?"</p> + +<p>"That you would explain your 'mystery.'"</p> + +<p>"I've changed my mind."</p> + +<p>A leaf floated slowly down the wind. A raven croaked. The breeze made +the sunbeams waver.</p> + +<p>"Mary, the picnic is over," he repeated again very gently.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, yes!"</p> + +<p>"I love you, Mary."</p> + +<p>The raven spread his wings and flew away.</p> + +<p>"Do you love me?" he insisted gently.</p> + +<p>"I want you to come to dinner at our house to-morrow noon."</p> + +<p>"That is a strange answer, Mary."</p> + +<p>"It is all the answer you'll get to-day."</p> + +<p>"Why are you so cross? Is anything the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"I love you, Mary. I love you, girl. At least I can say that now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you can say it—now."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>A NOON DINNER</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington did not know what to make of his invitation. At one moment +he told himself it must mean that Mary loved him, and that she wished +him to meet her parents on that account. At the next he tormented +himself with the conviction that she thus merely avoided the issue. +Between these moods he alternated, without being able to abide in +either. He forgot all about Old Mizzou.</p> + +<p>Promptly at noon the following day he turned up the little right-hand +trail for the first time.</p> + +<p>The Lawton house he found, first of all, to be scrupulously neat. It +stood on a knoll, as do most gulch cabins, in order that occasional +freshets might pass below, and the knoll looked as though it had been +clipped with a pair of scissors. Not a crooked little juniper bush was +allowed to intrude its plebeian sprawl among the dignified pines and +the gracefully infrequent bushes. In front of the cabin itself was a +"rockery" of pink quartz, on which were piled elk antlers. The building +was L-shaped, of two low stories, had a veranda with a railing, and +possessed various ornamental wood edgings, all of which were painted. +The whole affair was mathematically squared and correspondingly neat. +Some boxes and pots of flowers adorned the window ledges.</p> + +<p>Bennington's knock was answered by an elderly woman, who introduced +herself at once as Mrs. Lawton. She commenced a voluble and slightly +embarrassed explanation of how "she" would be down in a moment or so, +at the same time leading the way into the parlour. While this +explanation was going forward, Bennington had a good chance to examine +his hostess and her surroundings.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lawton was of the fat but energetic variety. She fairly shone with +cleanliness and with an insistent determination to keep busy. You could +see that all the time her tongue was uttering polite platitudes +concerning the weather, her mind was hovering like a dragon fly over +this or that flower of domestic economy. She was one of the women who +carry their housekeeping to a perfection uncomfortable both to herself +and everybody else, and then delude themselves into the martyrlike +belief that she is doing it all entirely for others. As a consequence, +she exhibited much of the time an aggrieved air that comported but +ludicrously with her tendency to bustle. And it must be confessed that +in other ways Mrs. Lawton was ludicrous. Her dumpy little form was +dressed in the loudest of prints, the figures of which turned her into +a huge flower bed of brilliant cabbage-like blooms. Over this chaos of +colours peered her round little face with its snapping eyes. She +discoursed in sentences which began coherently, but frayed out soon +into nothingness under the stress of inner thought. "I don't see where +that husban' of mine is. I reckon you'll think we're just awful rude, +Mr. de Laney, and that gal, an' Maude. I declare it's jest enough to +try any one's patience, it surely is. You've no idea, Mr. de Laney, +what with the hens settin', and this mis'able dry spell that sends th' +dust all over everything and every one 'way behin' hand on +everythin'----" Her eye was becoming vacant as she wondered about +certain biscuits.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure it must be," agreed Bennington uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>"What was I a-sayin'? You must excuse me, Mr. de Laney, but you, being +a man, can have no idea of the life us poor women folks lead, slavin' +our very lives away to keep things runnin', and then no thanks fer it +a'ter all. I'd just like t' see Bill Lawton try it <i>fer jest one week</i>. +He'd be a ravin' lunatic, an' thet I tell him often. This country's +jest awful, too. I tell him he must get out sometimes, and I 'spect he +will, when he's made his pile, poor man, an' then we'll have a chanst +to go back East again. When we lived East, Mr. de Laney, we had a +house—not like this little shack; a good house with nigh on to a dozen +rooms, and I had a gal to help me and some chanst to buy things once in +a while, but now that Bill Lawton's moved West, what's goin' to become +o' me I don't know. I'm nigh wore out with it all."</p> + +<p>"Then you lived East once?" asked Bennington.</p> + +<p>"Law, yes! We lived in Illinoy once, and th' Lord only knows I wisht we +lived there yet, though the farmin' was a sight of work and no pay +sometimes." The inner doubts as to the biscuits proved too much for +her. "Heaven knows, you ain't t' git much to eat," she cried, jumping +up, "but you ain't goin' to git anythin' a tall if I don't run right +off and tend to them biscuit."</p> + +<p>She bustled out. Bennington had time then to notice the decorations of +the "parlour." They offered to the eye a strange mixture of the East +and West—reminiscences of the old home in "Illinoy" and trophies of +the new camping-out on the frontier. From the ceiling hung a heavy lamp +with prismatic danglers, surrounded by a globe on which were depicted +stags in the act of leaping six-barred gates. By way of complement to +this gorgeous centrepiece, the paper on the walls showed, in infinitely +recurring duplicate, a huntress in green habit and big hat carrying on +a desperate flirtation with a young man in the habiliments of the +fifteenth century, while across the background a huddle of dogs pursued +a mammoth deer. Mathematically beneath the lamp stood a table covered +with a red-figured spread. On the table was a glass bell, underneath +which were wax flowers and a poorly-stuffed robin. In one angle of the +room austerely huddled a three-cornered "whatnot" of four shelves. Two +china pugs and a statuette of a simpering pair of children under a +massive umbrella adorned this article of furniture. On the wall ticked +an old-fashioned square wooden clock. The floor was concealed by a rag +carpet. So much for the East. The West contributed brilliant green +copper ore, flaky white tin ore, glittering white quartz ore, shining +pyrites, and one or two businesslike specimens of oxygenated quartz, +all of which occupied points of exhibit on the "whatnot." Over the +carpet were spread a deer skin, and a rug made from the hide of a +timber wolf. Bennington found all this interesting but depressing. He +was glad when Mrs. Lawton returned and took up her voluble discourse.</p> + +<p>In the midst of a dissertation on the relation of corn meal to eggs +the door opened, and Mr. Lawton sidled in.</p> + +<p>"Oh, here y' are at last!" observed his spouse scornfully, and rattled +on. Lawton nodded awkwardly, and perched himself on the edge of a +chair. He had assumed an ill-fitting suit of store clothes, in which he +unaccustomedly writhed, and evidently, to judge from the sleekness of +his hair, had recently plunged his head in a pail of water. He said +nothing, but whenever Mrs. Lawton was not looking he winked elaborately +and solemnly at Bennington as though to imply that circumstances alone +prevented any more open show of cordiality. At last, catching the young +man's eye at a more than usually propitious moment, he went through the +pantomime of opening a bottle, then furtively arose and disappeared. +Mrs. Lawton, remembering her cakes, ran out. Bennington was left alone +again. He had not spoken six words.</p> + +<p>The door slowly opened, and another member of the family sidled in. +Bennington owned a helpless feeling that this was a sort of show, and +that these various actors in it were parading their entrances and +their exits before him. Or that he himself were the object of +inspection on whom the others were satisfying their own curiosity.</p> + +<p>The newcomer was a child, a little girl about eight or ten years old. +Bennington liked children as a usual thing. No one on earth could have +become possessed in this one's favour. She was a creature of regular +but mean features, extreme gravity, and evidently of an inquiring +disposition. On seeing her for the first time, one sophisticated would +have expected a deluge of questions. Bennington did. But she merely +stood and stared without winking.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, little girl!" Bennington greeted her uneasily.</p> + +<p>The creature only stared the harder.</p> + +<p>"My doll's name is Garnet M-a-ay," she observed suddenly, with a +long-drawn nasal accent.</p> + +<p>After this interesting bit of information another silence fell.</p> + +<p>"What is your name, little girl?" Bennington asked desperately at +last.</p> + +<p>"Maude," remarked the phenomenon briefly.</p> + +<p>This statement she delivered in that whining tone which the extremely +self-conscious infant imagines to indicate playful childishness. She +approached.</p> + +<p>"D' you want t' see my picters?" she whimpered confidingly.</p> + +<p>Bennington expressed his delight.</p> + +<p>For seven geological ages did he gaze upon cheap and horrible woodcuts +of gentlemen in fashionable raiment trying to lean against +conspicuously inadequate rustic gates; equally fashionable ladies, with +flat chests, and rat's nest hair; and animals whose attitudes denoted +playful sportiveness of disposition. Each of these pictures was +explained in minute detail. Bennington's distress became apathy. Mrs. +Lawton returned from the cakes presently, yet her voice seemed to break +in on the duration of centuries.</p> + +<p>"Now, Maude!" she exclaimed, with a proper maternal pride, "you mustn't +be botherin' the gentleman." She paused to receive the expected +disclaimer. It was made, albeit a little weakly. "Maude is very good +with her Book," she explained. "Miss Brown, that's the school teacher +that comes over from Hill Town summers, she says Maude reads a sight +better than lots as is two or three years older. Now how old would you +think she was, Mr. de Laney?"</p> + +<p>Mr. de Laney tried to appraise, while the object hung her head +self-consciously and twisted her feet. He had no idea of children's +ages.</p> + +<p>"About eleven," he guessed, with an air of wisdom.</p> + +<p>"Jest eight an' a half!" cried the dame, folding her hands +triumphantly. She let her fond maternal gaze rest on the prodigy. +Suddenly she darted forward with extraordinary agility for one so well +endowed with flesh, and seized her offspring in relentless grasp.</p> + +<p>"I do declare, Maude Eliza!" she exclaimed in horror-stricken tones, +"you ain't washed your ears! You come with me!"</p> + +<p>They disappeared in a blue mist of wails.</p> + +<p>As though this were his cue, the crafty features of Lawton appeared +cautiously in the doorway, bestowed a furtive and searching inspection +on the room, and finally winked solemnly at its only occupant. A hand +was inserted. The forefinger beckoned. Bennington arose wearily and +went out.</p> + +<p>Lawton led the way to a little oat shed standing at some distance from +the house. Behind this he paused. From beneath his coat he drew a round +bottle and two glass tumblers.</p> + +<p>"No joke skippin' th' ole lady," he chuckled in an undertone. He poured +out a liberal portion for himself, and passed the bottle along. +Bennington was unwilling to hurt the old fellow's feelings after he had +taken so much trouble on his account, but he was equally unwilling to +drink the whisky. So he threw it away when Lawton was not looking.</p> + +<p>They walked leisurely toward the house, Lawton explaining various +improvements in a loud tone of voice, intended more to lull his wife's +suspicions than to edify the young man. The lady looked on them +sternly, and announced dinner. At the table Bennington found Mary +already seated.</p> + +<p>The Easterner was placed next to Mrs. Lawton. At his other hand was +Maude Eliza. Mary sat opposite. Throughout the meal she said little, +and only looked up from her plate when Bennington's attention was +called another way.</p> + +<p>Her mere presence, however, seemed to open to the young man a different +point of view. He found Mrs. Lawton's lengthy dissertations amusing; he +considered Mr. Lawton in the light of a unique character, and Maude +Eliza, while as disagreeable as ever, came in for various excuses and +explanations on her own behalf in the young man's mind. He became more +responsive. He told a number of very good stories, at which the others +laughed. He detailed some experiences of his own at places in the world +far remote, selected, it must be confessed, with some slight reference +to their dazzling effect on the company. Without actually "showing +off," he managed to get the effect of it. The result of his efforts was +to harmonize to some extent these diverse elements. Mrs. Lawton became +more coherent, Mr. Lawton more communicative; Maude Eliza stopped +whining—occasionally and temporarily. Bennington had rarely been in +such high spirits. He was surprised himself, but then was not that day +of moment to him, and would he not have been a strange sort of +individual to have seen in the world aught but brightness?</p> + +<p>But Mary responded not at all. Rather, as Bennington arose, she fell, +until at last she hardly even moved in her place.</p> + +<p>"Chirk up, chirk up!" cried Mrs. Lawton gaily, for her. "I know some +one who ought to be happy, anyhow." She glanced meaningly from one to +the other and laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>Bennington felt a momentary disgust at her tactlessness, but covered it +with some laughing sally of his own. The meal broke up in great good +humour. Mrs. Lawton and Maude Eliza remained to clear away the dishes. +Mr. Lawton remarked that he must get back to work, and shook hands in +farewell most elaborately. Bennington laughingly promised them all that +he would surely come again. Then he escaped, and followed Mary up the +hill, surmising truly enough that she had gone on toward the Rock. He +thought he caught a glimpse of her through the elders. He hastened his +footsteps. At this he stumbled slightly. From his pocket fell a letter +he had received that morning. He picked it up and looked at it idly.</p> + +<p>It was from his mother and covered a number of closely-written pages. +As he was about to thrust it back into his pocket a single sentence +caught his eye. It read: "Sally Ogletree gave a supper last week, which +was a very pretty affair."</p> + +<p>He stopped short on the trail, and the world seemed to go black around +him. He almost fell. Then resumed his way, but step now was hesitating +and slow, and he walked with his eyes bent thoughtfully on the ground.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>NOBLESSE OBLIGE</h3> +<br> + +<p>The thought which caused Bennington de Lane so suddenly look grave was +suggested by the sentence in his mother's letter. For the first time he +realized that these people, up to now so amusing, were possibly +destined to come into intimate relations with himself. Old Bill Lawton +was Mary's father; while Mrs. Lawton was Mary's mother; Maude was +Mary's sister.</p> + +<p>The next instant a great rush of love into his heart drove this feeling +from it. What matter anything, provided she loved him and he loved her? +Generous sentiment so filled him that there was room for nothing else. +He even experienced dimly in the depths of his consciousness, a faint +pale joy that in thus accepting what was disagreeable to his finer +sensibilities, he was proving more truly to his own self the +boundlessness of his love. For the moment he was exalted by this +instant revulsion against anything calculating in his passion. And +then slowly, one by one, the objections stole back, like a flock of +noisome sombre creatures put to flight by a sudden movement, but now +returning to their old nesting places. The very unassuming method of +their recurrence lent them an added influence. Almost before Bennington +knew it they had established a case, and he found himself face to face +with a very ugly problem.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it will be a little difficult for the average and democratic +reader to realize fully the terrible proportions of this problem. We +whose lives assume little, require little of them. Intangible +objections to the desires of our hearts do not count for much against +their realization; there needs the rough attrition of reality to turn +back our calm, complacent acquisition of that which we see to be for +our best interest in the emotional world. Claims of ancestry mean +nothing. Claims of society mean not much more. Claims of wealth are +considered as evanescent among a class of men who, by their efforts and +genius, are able to render absolute wealth itself an evanescent +quality. When one of us loves, he questions the worth of the object of +his passion. That established, nothing else is of great importance. +There is a grand and noble quality in this, but it misses much. About +the other state of affairs—wherein the woman's appurtenances of all +kinds, as well as the woman herself, are significant—is a delicate and +subtle aura of the higher refinement—the long refinement of the spirit +through many generations—which, to an eye accustomed to look for +gradations of moral beauty, possesses a peach-blow iridescence of its +own. From one point of view, the old-fashioned forms of thought and +courtesy are stilted and useless. From another they retain still the +lofty dignity of <i>noblesse oblige</i>.</p> + +<p>So we would have none set down Bennington de Laney as a prig or a snob +because he did not at once decide for his heart as against his +aristocratic instincts. Not only all his early education, but the life +lessons of many generations of ancestors had taught him to set a +fictitious value on social position. He was a de Laney on both sides. +He had never been allowed to forget it. A long line of forefathers, +proud-eyed in their gilded frames, mutely gazed their sense of the +obligations they had bequeathed to this last representative of their +race. When one belongs to a great family he can not live entirely for +himself. His disgrace or failure reflects not alone on his own +reputation, but it sullies the fair fame of men long dead and buried; +and this is a dreadful thing. For all these old Puritans and Cavaliers, +these knights and barons, these king's councillors and scholars, have +perchance lived out the long years of their lives with all good intent +and purpose and with all earnestness of execution, merely that they +might build and send down to posterity this same fair fame. It is a +bold man, or a wicked man, who will dare lightly to bring the efforts +of so many lives to naught! In the thought of these centuries of +endeavour, the sacrifice of mere personal happiness does not seem so +great an affair after all. The Family Name has taken to itself a soul. +It is a living thing. It may be worked for, it may be nourished by +affection, it may even be worshipped. Men may give their lives to it +with as great a devotion, with as exalted a sense of renunciation, and +as lofty a joy in that renunciation, as those who vow allegiance to St. +Francis or St. Dominic. The tearing of the heart from the bosom often +proves to be a mortal hurt when there is nothing to put in the gap of +its emptiness. Not so when a tradition like this may partly take its +place.</p> + +<p>These, and more subtle considerations, were the noblest elements of +Bennington de Laney's doubts. But perhaps they were no more potent than +some others which rushed through the breach made for them in the young +man's decision.</p> + +<p>He had always lived so much at home that he had come to accept the home +point of view without question. That is to say, he never examined the +value of his parent's ideas, because it never occurred to him to doubt +them. He had no perspective.</p> + +<p>In a way, then, he accepted as axioms the social tenets held by his +mother, or the business methods practised by his father. He believed +that elderly men should speak precisely, and in grammatical, but +colourless English. He believed also that people should, in society, +conduct themselves according to the fashion-plate pattern designed by +Mrs. de Laney. He believed these things, not because he was a fool, or +shallow, or lacking in humour, or snobbish, but because nothing had +ever happened to cause him to examine his beliefs closely, that he +might appreciate what they really were. One of these views was, that +cultured people were of a class in themselves, and could not and should +not mix with other classes. Mrs. de Laney entertained a horror of +vulgarity. So deep-rooted was this horror that a remote taint of it was +sufficient to thrust forever outside the pale of her approbation any +unfortunate who exhibited it. She preferred stupidity to common sense, +when the former was allied with good form, and the latter only with +plain kindliness. This was partly instinct and partly the result of +cultivation. She would shrink, with uncontrollable disgust, from any of +the lower classes with whom she came unavoidably in contact. A slight +breach of the conventions earned her distrust of one of her own caste. +As this personal idiosyncrasy fell in line with the de Laney pride, it +was approved by the head of the family. Under encouragement it became +almost a monomania.</p> + +<p>Bennington pictured to himself only too vividly the effect of the +Lawtons on this lady's aristocratic prejudices. He knew, only too well, +that Bill Lawton's table manners would not be allowed even in her +kitchen. He could imagine Mrs. Lawton's fatuous conversation in the de +Laney's drawing-room, or Maude Eliza's dressed-up self-consciousness. +The experience of having the three Westerners to dinner just once +would, Bennington knew, drive his lady mother to the verge of nervous +prostration—he remembered his father's one and only experience in +bringing business connections home to lunch—; his imagination failed +to picture the effect of her having to endure them as actual members of +the family! As if this were not bad enough, his restless fancy carried +him a step farther. He perceived the agonies of shame and +mortification, real even though they were conventional, she would have +to endure in the face of society. That the de Laneys, social leaders, +rigid in respectability, should be forced to the humiliation of +acknowledging a misalliance, should be forced to the added humiliation +of confessing that this marriage was not only with a family of inferior +social standing, but with one actually unlettered and vulgar! +Bennington knew only too well the temper of his mother—and of society.</p> + +<p>It would not be difficult to expand these doubts, to amplify these +reasons, and even to adduce others which occurred to the unhappy young +man as he climbed the hill. But enough has been said. Surely the +reader, no matter how removed in sympathy from that line of argument, +must be able now at least to sympathize, to perceive that Bennington de +Laney had some reason for thought, some excuse for the tardiness of his +steps as they carried him to a meeting with the girl he loved.</p> + +<p>For he did love her, perhaps the more tenderly that doubts must, +perforce, arise. All these considerations affected not at all his +thought of her. But now, for the first time, Bennington de Laney was +weighing the relative claims of duty and happiness. His happiness +depended upon his love. That his duty to his race, his parents, his +caste had some reality in fact, and a very solid reality in his own +estimation, the author hopes he has shown. If not, several pages have +been written in vain.</p> + +<p>The conflict in his mind had carried him to the Rock. Here, as he +expected, he found Mary already arrived. He ascended to the little +plateau and dropped wearily to the moss. His face had gone very white +in the last quarter of an hour.</p> + +<p>"You see now why I asked you to come to-day," she said without +preliminary. "Now you have seen them, and there is nothing more to +conceal."</p> + +<p>"I know, I know," he replied dully. "I am trying to think it out. I +can't see it yet."</p> + +<p>They took entirely for granted that each knew the subject of the +other's thoughts. The girl seemed much the more self-possessed of the +two.</p> + +<p>"We may as well understand each other," she said quietly, without +emotion. "You have told me a certain thing, and have asked me for a +certain answer. I could not give it to you before without deceiving +you. Now the answer depends on you. I have deceived you in a way," she +went on more earnestly, "but I did not mean to. I did not realize the +difference, truly I didn't, until I saw the girl on the train. Then I +knew the difference between her and me, and between her's and mine. And +when you turned away, I saw that you were her kind, and I saw, too, +that you ought to know everything there was about me. Then you spoke."</p> + +<p>"I meant what I said, too," he interrupted. "You must believe that, +Mary, whatever comes."</p> + +<p>"I was sorry you did," she went on, as though she had not heard him. +Then with just a touch of impatience tingeing the even calm of her +voice, "Oh, why will men insist on saying those things!" she cried. +"The way to win a girl is not thus. He should see her often, without +speaking of love, being everything to her, until at last she finds she +can not live without him."</p> + +<p>"Have I been that to you, Mary? Has it come to that with me?" he asked +wistfully.</p> + +<p>"Heaven help me, I am afraid it has!" she cried, burying her face in +her hands.</p> + +<p>A great gladness leaped up into his face, and died as the blaze of a +fire leaps up and expires.</p> + +<p>"That makes it easier—and harder," he said. "It is bad enough as it +is. I don't know how I can make you understand, dear."</p> + +<p>"I understand more than you think," she replied, becoming calm again, +and letting her hands fall into her lap. "I am going to speak quite +plainly. You love me, Ben—ah, don't I know it!" she cried, with a +sudden burst of passion. "I have seen it in your eyes these many days. +I have heard it in your voice. I have felt it welling out from your +great heart. It has been sweet to me—so sweet! You can not know, no +man ever could know, how that love of yours has filled my soul and my +heart until there was room for nothing else in the whole wide world!"</p> + +<p>"You love me!" he said wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"If I had not known that, do you think I would have endured a moment's +hesitation after you had seen the objectionable features of my life? Do +you think that if I had the slightest doubts of your love, I could now +understand <i>why</i> you hesitate? But I do, and I honour you for it."</p> + +<p>"You love me!" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, Ben dear, I <i>do</i> love you. I love you as I never thought +to be permitted to love. Do you want to know what I did that second day +on the Rock—the day you first showed me what you really were? The day +you told me of your old home and the great tree? It was all so +peaceful, and tender, and comforting, so sweet and pure, that it rested +me. I felt, here is a man at last who could not misunderstand me, could +not be abrupt, and harsh, and cruel. I said to myself, 'He is not +perfect nor does he expect perfection.' I shut my eyes, and then +something choked me, and the tears came. I cried out loud, 'Oh, to be +what I was, to give again what I have not! O God, give me back my heart +as it once was, and let me love!' Yes, Ben dear, I said 'love.' And +then I was not happy any more all day. But God answered that prayer, +Ben dear, and we do love one another now, and that is why we can look +at things together, and see what is best for us both."</p> + +<p>"You love me!" he exclaimed for the third time.</p> + +<p>"And now, dear, we must talk plainly and calmly. You have seen what my +family is."</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Mary, that I can make you understand at all," began +Bennington helplessly. "I can't express it even to myself. Our people +are so different. My training has been so different. All this sort of +thing means so much to us, and so little to you."</p> + +<p>"I know exactly," she interrupted. "I have read, and I have lived East. +I can appreciate just how it is. See if I can not read your thoughts. +My family is uneducated. If it becomes your family, your own parents +will be more than grieved, and your friends will have little to do with +you. You have also duties toward your family, <i>as</i> a family. Is that +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that <i>is</i> it," answered he, "but there are so many things it does +not say. It seems to me it has come to be a horrible dilemma with me. +If I do what I am afraid is my duty to my family and my people, I will +be unhappy without you forever. And if I follow my heart, then it seems +to me I will wrong myself, and will be unhappy that way. It seems a +choice of just in what manner I will be miserable!" he ended with a +ghastly laugh.</p> + +<p>"And which is the most worth while?" she asked in a still voice.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, I don't know!" he cried miserably. "I must think."</p> + +<p>He looked out straight ahead of him for some time. "Whichever way I +decide," he said after a little, "I want you to know this, Mary: I love +you, and I always will love you, and the fact that I choose my duty, if +I do, is only that if I did not, I would not consider myself worthy +even to look at you." A silence fell on them again.</p> + +<p>"I can not live West," said he again, as though he had been arguing +this point in his mind and had just reached the conclusion of it. "My +life is East; I never knew it until now." He hesitated. "Would +you—that is, could you—I mean, would your family have to live East +too?"</p> + +<p>She caught his meaning and drew herself up, with a little pride in the +movement.</p> + +<p>"Wherever I go, whatever I do, my people must be free to go or do. You +have your duty to your family. I have my duty to mine!"</p> + +<p>He bowed his head quietly in assent. She looked at the struggle +depicted in the lines of his face with eyes in which, strangely enough, +was much pity, but no unhappiness or doubt. Could it be that she was so +sure of the result?</p> + +<p>At last he raised his head slowly and turned to her with an air of +decision.</p> + +<p>"Mary----" he began.</p> + +<p>At that moment there became audible a sudden rattle of stones below the +Rock, and at the same instant a harsh voice broke in rudely upon their +conversation.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE CLAIM JUMPERS</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington instinctively put his finger on his lips to enjoin silence, +and peered cautiously over the edge of the dike. Perhaps he was glad +that this diversion had occurred to postpone even for a short time the +announcement of a decision it had cost him so much to make. Perhaps he +recognised the voice.</p> + +<p>Three men were clambering a trifle laboriously over the broken rocks at +the foot of the dike, swearing a little at their unstable footing, but +all apparently much in earnest in their conversation. Even as +Bennington looked they came to a halt, and then sank down each on a +convenient rock, talking interestedly. One was Old Mizzou, one was the +man Arthur, the third was a stranger whom Bennington had never seen.</p> + +<p>The latter had hardly the air of the country.</p> + +<p>He was a dapper little man dressed in a dark gray bob-tailed cutaway, +and a brown derby hat, which was pushed far back on his head. His face, +however, was keen and alert and brown, all of which characteristics +indicated an active Western life at no very remote day. The words which +had so powerfully arrested Bennington de Laney's attention were +delivered by Old Mizzou to this stranger.</p> + +<p>"Thar!" the old man had said, "ain't that Crazy Hoss Lode 'bout as +good-lookin' a lead as they make 'em?"</p> + +<p>"So, so; so, so;" replied the man in the derby in a high voice. "Your +vein is a fissure vein all right enough, and you've got a good wide +lead. If it holds up in quality, I don't know but what you're right."</p> + +<p>"I shows you them assays of McPherson's, don't I?" argued Mizzou, "an' +any quartz in this kentry that assays twenty-four dollars ain't no ways +cheap."</p> + +<p>This speech was so significantly in line with Bennington's surmise that +he caught his breath and drew back cautiously out of sight, but still +in such a position that he could hear plainly every word uttered by the +group below. The girl was watching him with bright, interested eyes.</p> + +<p>"Listen carefully!" he whispered, bringing his mouth close to her ear. +"I think there's some sort of plot here."</p> + +<p>She nodded ready comprehension, and they settled themselves to hear the +following conversation:</p> + +<p>"I saw the assay," replied the stranger's voice to Mizzou's last +statement, "but who's this McPherson? How do I know the assays are all +right?"</p> + +<p>"Why, he's that thar professer at th' School of Mines," expostulated +Mizzou.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" cried the stranger, as though suddenly enlightened. "If +those are his assays, they're all right. Let's see them again."</p> + +<p>There followed a rustling of papers.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've looked over your layout," went on the stranger after a +moment, "and pretty thoroughly in the last few days. I know what you've +got here. Now what's your proposition?"</p> + +<p>There was a pause.</p> + +<p>"I knows you a good while, Slayton----" began Mizzou, but was +interrupted almost immediately by a third voice, that of Arthur. "The +point is this," said the latter sharply, "Davidson here is in a +position to give you possession of this group o' claims, but he ain't +in a position to appear in th' transaction. How are you goin' to +purtect him an' me so we gets something out of it?"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," put in the stranger, "I want to ask a few questions +myself. These claims belong to the Holy Smoke Company now, don't they?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's the idea."</p> + +<p>"Are either of you the agent of that Company?"</p> + +<p>"Not directly, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Are you indirectly?"</p> + +<p>"Seems to me you haven't got any call t' look into that, if we +guarantee t' give you good title."</p> + +<p>"How do I know you can give me good title?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't I tellin' you so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but why should I believe you?"</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't, unless you've got sense enough to see that we ain't +gettin' you 'way up here, an' we ain't living round these parts a +couple of years on a busted proposition."</p> + +<p>The stranger evidently debated this.</p> + +<p>"How would it be if you took equal shares with me on the claims, your +shares to be paid from the earnings? That would be fair all round. You +would get nothing unless the title was good. I would risk no more than +you did," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"Isn't I tellin' yo' I don't appear a tall in this yere transaction?" +objected Mizzou.</p> + +<p>The stranger laughed a little.</p> + +<p>"I can see through a millstone," he said. "Why don't you old +turtlebacks come out of your shells and play square? You've got some +shady game on here that you're working underhand. Spin your yarn and +I'll tell you what I think of it."</p> + +<p>"How do I know you don't leave us out a'ter we tells you," objected +Mizzou, returning to his original idea.</p> + +<p>"You don't!" answered the stranger impatiently, "you don't! But it +seems to me if you expect to get anything out of a shady transaction, +you've got to risk something."</p> + +<p>"That's right," put in Arthur, "that's right! 'Nuff said! Now, Slayton, +we'll agree to git you full legal control of these yere claims if +you'll develop them at your expense, an' gin Davidson and me a third +interest between us fer our influence. That's our proposition, an' that +goes. If you don't play squar', I knows how t' make ye."</p> + +<p>"Spin your yarn," repeated the stranger quietly. "I'll agree to give +you and Davidson a third interest, <i>provided</i> I take hold of the thing +at all."</p> + +<p>"An' Jack Slayton," put in Mizzou threateningly, "if you don't play us +squar', I swar I'll shoot ye like a dog!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, stow that, Davidson," rejoined the stranger in an irritated voice; +"that rot don't do any good. I know you, and you know me. I never went +back on a game yet, and you know it."</p> + +<p>"I does know it, Jack!" came up Davidson's voice repentantly, "but this +is a big deal, an' y' can't be too careful!"</p> + +<p>"All right, all right," the stranger responded "Now tell us your +scheme. How can you get hold of the property?"</p> + +<p>"By jumping the claims," replied Arthur calmly. There ensued a short +pause. Then:</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool," exclaimed Slayton with contempt; "this is no hold-up +country. You can't drive a man off his property with a gun."</p> + +<p>"I knows that. These claims can be 'jumped' quiet and legal."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"They ain't be'n a stroke of assessment work done on 'em since we came. +Th' Company's title's gone long ago. They lost their job last January. +Them claims is open to any one who cares to have 'em."</p> + +<p>The stranger uttered a long whistle. Old Mizzou chuckled cunningly. "I +has charge of them claims from th' time they quits work on 'em 'till +now. They ain't be'n a pick raised on 'em. Anybody could a-jumped 'em +any time since las' January."</p> + +<p>"But how about the Company?" asked Slayton. "How did you fool them?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I sends 'em bills fer work reg'lar enough! And I didn't throw +away th' money neither!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that'd be easy enough. But how about the people around here? Why +haven't they jumped the claims long ago?"</p> + +<p>"Wall, I argues about this a-way. These yere gents sees I has charge, +an' they says to themselves, 'Ole Davidson takes care of them +assessment works all right,' an' so they never thinks it's worth while +t' see whether it is done or not."</p> + +<p>"You trusted to their thinking you were performing your duties?"</p> + +<p>"Thet's it."</p> + +<p>"Well, it was a pretty big risk!"</p> + +<p>"Ev'rything t' gain an' nothin' t' lose," quoted Old Mizzou +comfortably.</p> + +<p>"How about this new man the Company has out here—de Laney? Is he in +this deal too?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, him!" said Davidson with vast contempt. "He don' know enough t' +dodge a brick! I tells him th' assessment work is all done. He believes +it, an' never looks t' see. I gets him fooled so easy it's shore +funny."</p> + +<p>"Hold on!" put in Slayton sharply. "I'm not so sure you aren't liable +there somewhere. Of course your failure to do the assessment work while +you were alone here was negligence, but that is all. The Company could +fire you for failing to do your duty, but they couldn't prove any fraud +against you. But when this de Laney came along it changed things."</p> + +<p>"How is that?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you told him the assessment work had been done, in so many +words, didn't you? The Company can prove that you were using your +official information to deceive him for the purposes of fraud. In other +words, you were an officer of the Company, and you deceived another +officer in your official capacity. I don't know but you'd be liable to +a criminal action."</p> + +<p>"Not on your tin-type," said Old Mizzou with confidence.</p> + +<p>"Have you looked it up?"</p> + +<p>"I does better than that. At that point I shore becomes subtle. <i>I +resigns from th' Company!</i> A'ter that I talks assessment work. I tells +him advice, jest as a friend. If he believes th' same, an' it ain't so, +why thet's unfort'nit, but they can't do anythin' t' me. I'm jest an +outsider. He is responsible to th' Company, an' if he wants +information, he ought to go to th' books, and not to frien's who may +deceive him."</p> + +<p>"Davidson, you're a genius!" exclaimed the stranger heartily.</p> + +<p>"I tells you I becomes subtle," acknowledged the old man with just +pride. "But now you sees it ain't delikit that my name appears in th' +case a tall. Folks is so suspicious these yere days, that if I has a +share, and Arthur yere has a share, they says p'rhaps we has this yere +scheme in view right along. But if Slayton gets them lapsed claims by +hisself, Slayton bein' a stranger, they thinks how fortinit that +Slayton is t' git onto it, and they puts pore Ole Mizzou down as +becomin' fergitful in his old age."</p> + +<p>The stranger laughed.</p> + +<p>"It's easy," he remarked. "We get them for nothing, and you can bet +your sweet life I'll push 'em through for all there is in it. Why, +boys, you're rich! You won't have anything more to do the rest of your +mortal days, unless you want to."</p> + +<p>"I ain't seekin' no manual employment," observed Mizzou.</p> + +<p>"I'm willin' to quit work," agreed Arthur.</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll have a chance. Now we better hustle this thing through +lively. We've got to make our discoveries on the quiet so no one will +get on to us."</p> + +<p>"It ain't goin' t' take us long t' tack up them notices, now 't we've +agreed. We kin do th' most on it this evenin'. Jest lay low, that's +all."</p> + +<p>"Ain't de Laney going to get onto us sasshaying off with a lot of +notices?"</p> + +<p>"If he does," remarked Old Mizzou grimly, "I knows a dark hole whar we +retires that young man for th' day! If it comes t' that, though, you +got t' tend to it, Slayton. I ain't showin' in this deal y' know."</p> + +<p>The stranger laughed unpleasantly.</p> + +<p>"You show me the hole and I'll take care of Mr. man," he agreed. He +laughed again. "By the way, it strikes me that fellow's going to run up +against a good deal of tribulation before he gets through."</p> + +<p>"Wall, thet thar Comp'ny ain't goin' to raise his pay when they finds +it out," agreed Mizzou. "Thet Bishop, he gets tolerable anxious 'bout +them assessment works now, and writes frequent. I got a whole bunch of +his letters up t' camp that I keeps for th' good of his health. Ain't +no wise healthy t' worry 'bout business, you know."</p> + +<p>"Wonder th' little idiot didn't miss his mail," growled Arthur.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I coaxes him on with th' letters from his mammy and pappy. They's +harmless enough."</p> + +<p>The three men fell into a discussion of various specimens of quartz +which they took from their pockets, and, after what seemed to be an +interminable time, arose and moved slowly down the hill.</p> + +<p>The girl looked at her companion with wide-open eyes. "Ben!" she +gasped, "what have you done?"</p> + +<p>"Made a fool of myself," he responded curtly.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do about it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>He knit his brows deeply. She cast about for an expedient.</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew more about mining!" she cried. "I know there is some way +to get legal possession of a claim by patenting it, but I don't know +how you do it."</p> + +<p>He did not reply.</p> + +<p>"There must be some way out of this," she went on, all alert. "They +haven't done anything yet. Why don't you go down to camp and inquire?"</p> + +<p>"Every man would be in the hills in less than an hour. I couldn't trust +them," he replied brusquely.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know!" she cried with relief. "You must hunt up Jim. He knows +all about those things, and you could rely on him."</p> + +<p>"Jim? What Jim?"</p> + +<p>"Jim Fay. Oh, that's just it! Run, Ben; go at once; don't wait a +minute!"</p> + +<p>"I want nothing whatever to do with that man," he said deliberately. +"He has insulted me at every opportunity. He has treated me in a manner +that was even more than insulting every time we have met. If I were +dying, and he had but to turn his head toward me to save me, I would +not ask him to do so!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be foolish, Ben!" cried she, wringing her hands in despair. +"Don't let your pride stand in your way! Do you not realize the +disgrace this will be to you—to lose all these rich claims just by +carelessness? Do you realize that it means something to me, for I have +been the reason of that carelessness. I know it! Just this once, forget +all he has done to you. You can trust him. Don't be afraid of that. +Tell him that I sent you, if you don't want to trust him on your own +account----" she broke off. "Where are you going?" she asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"To do something," he answered, shutting his teeth together with a +snap.</p> + +<p>"Will you see Jim?" she begged, following him to the edge of the Rock +as he swung himself down the tree.</p> + +<p>"No!" he said, without looking back.</p> + +<p>After he disappeared—in the direction of the Holy Smoke camp, as she +noticed—she descended rapidly to the ground and hurried, sobbing +excitedly, away toward Spanish Gulch. She was all alive with distress. +She had never realized until the moment of his failure how much she had +loved this man. Near the village she paused, bathed her eyes in the +brook, and, assuming an air of deliberation and calmness, began making +inquiries as to the whereabouts of Jim Fay.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XIX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>BENNINGTON PROVES GAME</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington de Laney sat on the pile of rocks at the entrance to the +Holy Smoke shaft. Across his knees lay the thirty-calibre rifle. His +face was very white and set. Perhaps he was thinking of his return to +New York in disgrace, of his interview with Bishop, of his inevitable +meeting with a multitude of friends, who would read in the daily papers +the accounts of his incompetence—criminal incompetence, they would +call it. The shadows were beginning to lengthen across the slope of the +hill. Up the gulch cow bells tinkled, up the hill birds sang, and +through the little hollows twilight flowed like a vapour. The wild +roses on the hillside were blooming—late in this high altitude. The +pines were singing their endless song. But Bennington de Laney was +looking upon none of these softer beauties of the Hills. Rather he +watched intently the lower gulch with its flood-wracked, water-twisted +skeleton laid bare. Could it be that in the destruction there figured +forth he caught the symbol of his own condition? That the dreary gloom +of that ruin typified the chaos of sombre thoughts that occupied his +own remorseful mind? If so, the fancy must have absorbed him. The +moments slipped by one by one, the shadows grew longer, the bird songs +louder, and still the figure with the rifle sat motionless, his face +white and still, watching the lower gulch.</p> + +<p>Or could it be that Bennington de Laney waited for some one, and that +therefore his gaze was so fixed? It would seem so. For when the beat of +hoofs became audible, the white face quickened into alertness, and the +motionless figure stirred somewhat.</p> + +<p>The rider came in sight, rising and falling in a steady, unhesitating +lope. He swung rapidly to the left, and ascended the knoll. Opposite +the shaft of the Holy Smoke lode he reined in his bronco and +dismounted. The rider was Jim Fay.</p> + +<p>Bennington de Laney did not move. He looked up at the newcomer with +dull resignation. "He takes it hard, poor fellow!" thought Fay.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's to be done?" asked the Easterner in a strained voice. "I +suppose you know all about it, or you wouldn't be here."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know all about it," said Fay gently. "You mustn't take it so +hard. Perhaps we can do something. We'll be able to save one or two +claims, any way, if we're quick about it."</p> + +<p>"I've heard something about patenting claims," went on de Laney in the +same strange, dull tones; "could that be done?"</p> + +<p>"No. You have to do five hundred dollars' worth of work, and advertise +for sixty days. There isn't time."</p> + +<p>"That settles it. I don't know what we can do then."</p> + +<p>"Well, that depends. I've come to help do something. We've got to get +an everlasting hustle on us, that's all; and I'm afraid we are +beginning a little behindhand in the race. You ought to have hunted me +up at once."</p> + +<p>"I don't see what there is to do," repeated Bennington thickly.</p> + +<p>"Don't you? The assessment work hasn't been done—that's the idea, +isn't it?—and so the claims have reverted to the Government. They are +therefore open to location, as in the beginning, and that is just what +Davidson and that crowd are going to do to them. Well, they're just as +much open to us. We'll just <i>jump our own claims!</i>"</p> + +<p>"What!" cried the Easterner, excited.</p> + +<p>"Well, relocate them ourselves, if that suits you better."</p> + +<p>Bennington's dull eyes began to light up.</p> + +<p>"So get a move on you," went on Fay; "hustle out some paper so we can +make location notices. Under the terms of a relocation, we can use the +old stakes and 'discovery,' so all we have to do is to tack up a new +notice all round. That's the trouble. That gang's got their notices all +written, and I'm afraid they've got ahead of us. Come on!"</p> + +<p>Bennington, who had up to this time remained seated on the pile of +stones, seemed filled with a new and great excitement. He tottered to +his feet, throwing his hands aloft.</p> + +<p>"Thank God! Thank God!" he cried, catching his breath convulsively.</p> + +<p>Fay turned to look at him curiously. "We aren't that much out of the +woods," he remarked; "the other gang'll get in their work, don't you +fret."</p> + +<p>"They never will, they never will!" cried the Easterner exultantly. +"They can't. We'll locate 'em all!" The tears welled over his eyes and +ran down his cheeks.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" asked Fay, beginning to fear the excitement had +unsettled his companion's wits.</p> + +<p>"Because they're there!" cried Bennington, pointing to the mouth of the +shaft near which he had been sitting. "Davidson, Slayton, +Arthur—they're all there, and they can't get away! I didn't know what +else to do. I had to do something!"</p> + +<p>Fay cast an understanding glance at the young man's rifle, and sprang +to the entrance of the shaft. As though in direct corroboration of his +speech, Fay could perceive, just emerging from the shadow, the sinister +figure of the man Arthur creeping cautiously up the ladder, evidently +encouraged to an attempt to escape by the sound of the conversation +above. The Westerner snatched his pistol from his holster and +presented it down the shaft.</p> + +<p>"Kindly return!" he commanded in a soft voice. The upward motion of the +dim figure ceased, and in a moment it had faded from view in the +descent. Fay waited a moment. "In five minutes," he announced in louder +tones, "I'm going to let loose this six-shooter down that shaft. I +should advise you gentlemen to retire to the tunnel." He peered down +again intently. A sudden clatter and thud behind him startled him. He +looked around. Bennington had fallen at full length across the stones, +and his rifle, falling, had clashed against the broken ore.</p> + +<p>Fay, with a slight shrug of contempt at such womanish weakness, ran to +his assistance. He straightened the Easterner out and placed his folded +coat under his head. "He'll come around in a minute," he muttered. He +glanced toward the gulch and then back to the shaft. "Can't leave that +lay-out," he went on. He bent over the prostrate figure and began to +loosen the band of his shirt. Something about the boy's clothing +attracted his attention, so, drawing his knife, he deftly and gently +ripped away the coat and shirt. Then he arose softly to his feet and +bared his head.</p> + +<p>"I apologize to you," said he, addressing the recumbent form; "you are +game."</p> + +<p>In the fleshy part of the naked shoulder was a small round hole, +clotted and smeared with blood.</p> + +<p>Jim Fay stooped and examined the wound closely. The bullet had entered +near the point of the shoulder, but a little below, so that it had +merely cut a secant through the curve of the muscle. If it had struck a +quarter of an inch to the left it would have gouged a furrow; a quarter +of an inch beyond that would have caused it to miss entirely. Fay saw +that the hurt itself was slight, and that the Easterner had fainted +more because of loss of blood than from the shock. This determined to +his satisfaction, he moved quickly to the mouth of the shaft. "Way +below!" he cried in a sharp voice, and discharged his revolver twice +down the opening. Then he stole noiselessly away, and ran at speed to +the kitchen of the shack, whence he immediately returned with a pail of +water and a number of towels. He set these down, and again peered down +the shaft. "Way below!" he repeated, and dropped down a sizable chunk +of ore. Apparently satisfied that the prisoners were well warned, he +gave his whole attention to his patient.</p> + +<p>He washed the wound carefully. Then he made a compress of one of the +towels, and bound it with the other two. Looking up, he discovered +Bennington watching him intently.</p> + +<p>"It's all right!" he assured the latter in answer to the question in +his eyes. "Nothing but a scratch. Lie still a minute till I get this +fastened, and you can sit up and watch the rat hole while I get you +some clothes."</p> + +<p>In another moment or so the young man was propped up against an empty +ore "bucket," his shoulder bound, and his hand slung comfortably in a +sling from his neck.</p> + +<p>"There you are," said Jim cheerily. "Now you take my six-shooter and +watch that aggregation till I get back. They won't come out any, but +you may as well be sure."</p> + +<p>He handed Bennington his revolver, and moved off in the direction of +the cabin, whistling cheerfully. The young man looked after him +thoughtfully. Nothing could have been more considerate than the +Westerner's manner, nothing could have been kinder than his prompt +action—Bennington saw that his pony, now cropping the brush near at +hand, was black with sweat—nothing could have been more +straightforward than his assistance in the matter of the claims. And +yet Bennington de Laney was not satisfied. He felt he owed the sudden +change of front to a word spoken in his behalf by the girl. This was a +strange influence she possessed, thus to alter a man's attitude +entirely by the mere voicing of a wish.</p> + +<p>The Westerner returned carrying a loose shirt and a coat, which he drew +entire over the injured shoulder, which left one sleeve empty.</p> + +<p>"I guess that fixes you," said he with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Look here," put in Bennington suddenly, "you've been mighty good to me +in all this. If you hadn't come along as you did, these fellows would +have nabbed me sooner or later, and probably I'd have lost the claims +any way. I feel I owe you a lot. But I want you to know before you go +any further that that don't square us. You've had it in for me ever +since I came out here, and you've made it mighty unpleasant for me. I +can't forget that all at once. I want to tell you plainly that, +although I am grateful enough, I know just why you have done all this. +It is because <i>she</i> asked you to. And knowing that, I can't accept what +you do for me as from a friend, for I don't feel friendly toward you in +the least." His face flushed painfully. "I'm not trying to insult you +or be boorish," he said; "I just want you to understand how I feel +about it. And now that you know, I suppose you'd better let the matter +go, although I'm much obliged to you for fixing me up."</p> + +<p>He glanced at his shoulder.</p> + +<p>Fay listened to this speech quietly and with patience. "What do you +intend to do?" he asked, when the other had quite finished.</p> + +<p>"I don't know yet. If you'll say nothing down below—and I'm sure you +will not—I'll contrive some way of keeping this procession down the +hole, and of feeding them, and then I'll relocate the claims myself."</p> + +<p>"With one arm?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, with one arm!" cried Bennington fiercely; "with no arms at all, +if need be!" he broke off suddenly, with the New Yorker's ingrained +instinct of repression. "I beg your pardon. I mean I'll do as well as I +can, of course."</p> + +<p>"How about the woman—Arthur's wife? She'll give you trouble."</p> + +<p>"She has locked herself in her cabin already. I will assist her to +continue the imprisonment."</p> + +<p>Fay laughed outright. "And you expect, with one arm and wounded, to +feed four people, keep them in confinement, and at the same time to +relocate eighteen claims lying scattered all over the hills! Well, +you're optimistic, to say the least."</p> + +<p>"I'll do the best I can," repeated Bennington doggedly.</p> + +<p>"And you won't ask help of a friend ready to give it?"</p> + +<p>"Not as a friend."</p> + +<p>"Well," Fay chuckled, apparently not displeased, "you're an obstinate +young man, or rather a pig-headed young man, but I don't know as that +counts against you. I'll help you out, anyway—if not as a friend, then +as an enemy. You see, I have my marching orders from someone else, and +you haven't anything to do with it."</p> + +<p>Bennington bowed coldly, but his immense relief flickered into his face +in spite of himself. "What should we do first?" he asked formally.</p> + +<p>"Sit here and wait for the kids," responded Jim.</p> + +<p>"Who are the kids?"</p> + +<p>"Friends of mine—trustworthy."</p> + +<p>Jim rearranged Bennington's coverings and lit a pipe. "Tell us about +it," said he.</p> + +<p>"There isn't much to tell. I knew I had to do something, so I just held +them up and made them get down the shaft. I didn't know what I was +going to do next, but I was glad to have them out of the way to get +time to think."</p> + +<p>"Who plugged you?" inquired Fay, motioning with the mouthpiece of his +pipe toward the wounded shoulder.</p> + +<p>"That was Arthur. He had a little gun in his coat pocket and he shot +from inside the pocket. I'd made them drop all the guns they had, I +thought."</p> + +<p>"Did you take a crack at him then?" asked Fay, interested.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. I just covered him and made him shell out. As a matter of fact +I don't believe any one of them knew I was hit."</p> + +<p>Fay smoked on in silence, glancing from time to time with satisfaction +at the youth opposite. During the passage of these events the day had +not far advanced. The shadow of Harney had not yet reached out to the +edge of the hills.</p> + +<p>"Hullo! The kids!" said Fay suddenly.</p> + +<p>Two pedestrians emerged from the lower gulch and bent their steps +toward the camp. As they came nearer, Bennington, with a gasp of +surprise, recognised the Leslies.</p> + +<p>The sprightly youths were dressed just alike, in knickerbockers and +Norfolk jackets of dark brown plaid, and small college caps to +match—an outfit which Bennington had always believed would attract too +vivid attention in this country. As they came nearer he saw that the +jackets were fitted with pockets of great size. In the pockets were +sketch books and bulging articles. They caught sight of the two figures +on the ore heap simultaneously.</p> + +<p>"Behold our attentive host!" cried Jeems. "He is now in the act of +receiving us with all honour!"</p> + +<p>Bennington's face fairly shone with pleasure at the encounter. "Hullo +fellows! Hullo there!" he cried out delightedly again and again, and +rose slowly to his feet. This disclosed the fact of his injury, and the +brothers ran forward, with real sympathy and concern expressed on their +lively countenances. There ensued a rapid fire of questions and +answers. The Leslies proved to be already familiar with the details of +the attempt to jump the claims, and understood at once Fay's brief +account of the present situation, over which they rejoiced in the +well-known Leslie fashion. They exploded in genuine admiration of +Bennington's adventure, and praised that young man enthusiastically. +Bennington could feel, even before this, that he stood on a different +footing than formerly with these self-reliant young men. They treated +him as familiarly as ever, but with a new respect. The truth is, their +astuteness in reading character, which is as essentially an attribute +of the artistic temperament in black and white as in words and phrases, +had shown them already that their old acquaintance had grown from boy +to man since last they had met. They knew this even before they learned +of its manifestation. So astounding was the change that they gave it +credit, perhaps, for being more thorough than it was. After the +situation had been made plain, Bennington reverted to the +unexpectedness of their appearance.</p> + +<p>"But you haven't told me yet how you happen to be here," he suggested. +"I'd as soon have expected to see Ethel Henry coming up the gulch!"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you get our letters?" cried Bert in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"No, I haven't received any letters. Did you write?"</p> + +<p>"Did we write! Well, I should think so! We wrote three times, telling +you we were coming and when to expect us. Jeems and I wondered why you +didn't meet us. That explains it. Seems funny you didn't get any of +those letters!"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't believe it is so funny after all," responded Bennington, +who had been thinking it over. "I remember now that Davidson told the +others he had been intercepting my letters from the Company, and I +suppose he got yours too."</p> + +<p>"That's it, of course. I'll have to interview that Davidson later. +Well, we used to train around here off and on, as I told you once, and +this year Jeems and I thought we'd do our summer sketching here, and +sort of revive old times. So we packed up and came."</p> + +<p>"I'm mighty glad you came, anyway," replied Bennington fervently.</p> + +<p>"So'm I. We're just in time to help foil the villain. As foilers Jeems +and I are an artistic success. We have studied foiling under the best +masters in the Bowery and Sixth Avenue theatres."</p> + +<p>"Where's Bill?" asked Jim suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Will be around in the morning. You're to report progress at once. +Didn't dare to come up until after the row. Dreadful anxious though. +Would have come if Jeems and I hadn't forbidden it."</p> + +<p>Bennington wondered vaguely who Bill might be, but he was beginning to +feel a little tired from the excitement and his wound, so he said +nothing.</p> + +<p>"The next thing is grub," remarked Fay, rising and gathering his pony's +reins. "I'll mosey up to the shack and see about supper. You fellows +can sit around and talk until I get organized."</p> + +<p>He turned to move away, leading his horse.</p> + +<p>"Hold on a minute, Jim," called Bert. "You might lend me your bronc, +and I'll lope down and set Bill's mind easy. It won't take long."</p> + +<p>"Good scheme!" approved Jim heartily. "That's thoughtful of you, +Bertie!"</p> + +<p>He dropped the reins where he stood, and the pony, with the usual +well-trained Western docility, hung his head and halted. Bert arose and +looked down the shaft.</p> + +<p>"Supper will be served shortly, gentlemen," he observed suavely. He +turned toward the pony.</p> + +<p>"Bert," called Bennington in a different voice, "did you say you were +going down the gulch?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Do you want to do something for me?"</p> + +<p>"Why, surely. What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Would you just as soon stop at the Lawtons' and tell Miss Lawton for +me that it's all right! You'll find the Lawton house----"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know where the Lawton house is," interrupted Bert, "but Miss +Lawton, you said?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you remember, Bert," put in James, "there is a kid there—Maude, +or something of that sort?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, not Maude," persisted Bennington, still more bashfully. "I +mean Miss Lawton, the young lady."</p> + +<p>He felt that both the youths were looking keenly at him with dawning +wonder and delight. "Hold on, Bert," interposed James, as the other was +about to exclaim, "do you mean, Ben, the one you've been giving such a +rush for the last two months?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Lawton and I are very good friends," replied Bennington with +dignity, wondering whence James had his information.</p> + +<p>Bert drew in his breath sharply, and opened his mouth to speak.</p> + +<p>"Hold on, Bert," interposed James again. "There are possibilities in +this. Don't destroy artistic development by undue haste. What did you +call the young lady, Ben?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Lawton, of course!"</p> + +<p>"Daughter of Bill Lawton?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my eye!" ejaculated James.</p> + +<p>"And you have eyes in your head!" he cried after a moment. "You have +ears in your head! Blamed if you haven't everything in your head but +brains! She's a good one! I didn't appreciate the subtlety of that +woman before. Ben, you everlasting idiot, do you mean to tell me that +you've seen that girl every day for the last two months, and don't know +yet that she's too good to belong to Bill Lawton?"</p> + +<p>Bert began to laugh hysterically.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean!" cried Bennington.</p> + +<p>"What I say. <i>She</i> isn't Bill Lawton's daughter. Her name isn't Lawton +at all. O glory! He don't even know her name!" James in his turn went +into a fit of laughing. In uncontrollable excitement Bennington seized +him with his sound hand.</p> + +<p>"What is it? Tell me! What is her name, then?"</p> + +<p>"O Lord! Don't squeeze so! I'll tell you! Letup!"</p> + +<p>James dashed the back of his hand across his eyes.</p> + +<p>"What is her name?" repeated Bennington fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Wilhelmina Fay. We call her Bill for short."</p> + +<p>"And Jim Fay?"</p> + +<p>"Is her brother."</p> + +<p>"And the Lawtons?"</p> + +<p>"They board there."</p> + +<p>Across Bennington's mind flashed vaguely a suspicion that turned him +faint with mortification.</p> + +<p>"Who is this Jim Fay?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"He's Jim Fay—James Leicester Fay, of Boston."</p> + +<p>"Not----"</p> + +<p>"Yes, exactly. The Boston Fays."</p> + +<p>Bert swung himself into the saddle. "Better not say anything to Bill +about the young 'un's shoulder," called after him the ever-thoughtful +James.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XX"></a><h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>MASKS OFF</h3> +<br> + +<p>Now that it was all explained, it seemed to Bennington de Laney to be +ridiculously simple. He wondered how he could have been so blind. For +the moment, however, all other emotions were swallowed up in intense +mortification over the density he had displayed, and the ridiculous +light in which he must have appeared to all the actors in the comedy. +His companion perceived this, and kindly hastened to relieve it.</p> + +<p>"You're wondering how it all happened," said he, "but you don't want to +ask about it. I'm going to tell you the story of your life. You see, +Bert and I knew the Fays very well in Boston, and we knew also that +they were out here in the Hills. That's what tickled us so when you +said you were coming out to this very place. You know yourself, Ben, +that you were pretty green when you were in New York—you must know it, +because you have got over it so nicely since—and it struck us, after +you talked so much about the 'Wild West,' that it would be a shame if +you didn't get some of it. So we wrote Jim that you were coming, and to +see to it that you had a time."</p> + +<p>Jim chuckled a little. "From his letters, I guess you had it. He wrote +about that horse he sprung on you, and the time they lynched you, and +all the rest of it, and we thought we had done pretty well, especially +since Jim wrote he thought you weren't half bad, and had come through +in good shape. He wrote, too, that you had run against Bill, and that +Bill was fooling you up in some way—way unspecified. He seemed to be a +little afraid that Bill was trifling with your young affections—how is +it Ben, anyway?—but he said that Bill was very haughty on the subject, +and as he'd never been able to do anything with her before, he didn't +believe he'd have much success if he should try now. I suggested that +Bill might get in a little deep herself," went on James, watching his +listener's face keenly, "but Bert seemed inclined to the opinion that +any one as experienced as Bill was perfectly able to take care of +herself anywhere. She's a mighty fine girl, Ben, old man," suddenly +concluded this startling youth, holding out his hand, "and I wish you +every success in the world in getting her!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Jeems," replied Bennington simply, without attempting to +deny the state of affairs. "I'm sure I'm glad of your good wishes, but +I'm afraid I haven't any show now." He sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>"I'll give an opinion on that after I see Bill again," observed the +artist sagely.</p> + +<p>"It always struck me as being queer that two of the most refined people +about here should happen to be living in the same house," commented +Bennington, only just aware that it had so struck him.</p> + +<p>"Did it, indeed?" said Leslie drolly. "You're just bursting with +sagacity now, aren't you? And your Sherlock-Holmes intellect is +seething with conjecture. The lover's soul is far above the sordid +earthly considerations which interest us ordinary mortals, but I'll bet +a hat you are wondering how it comes that a Boston girl is out here +without any more restraint on her actions than a careless brother who +doesn't bother himself, and why she's out here at all, and a few things +like that. 'Fess up."</p> + +<p>"Well," acknowledged Bennington a trifle reluctantly, "of course it is +a little out of the ordinary, but then it's all right, somehow, I'll +swear."</p> + +<p>"All right! Of course it's all right! They haven't any father or +mother, you know, and they are independent of action, as you've no +doubt noticed. Bill kept house for Jim for some time—and they used to +keep a great house, I tell you," said James, smacking his lips in +recollection. "Bert and I used to visit there a good deal. That's why +they call me Jeems—to distinguish me from Jim. Then Jim got tired of +doing nothing—they possess everlasting rocks—you know their lamented +dad was a sort of amateur Croesus—and he decided to monkey with mines. +Bert and I were here one summer, so Bill and Jim just pulled up stakes +and came along too. They have been here ever since. They're both true +sports and like the life, and all that; and, besides, Jim has kept busy +monkeying with mining speculation. They're the salt of the earth, that +pair, if they <i>do</i> worry poor old Boston to death with their ways of +doing things. That's one reason I like 'em so much. Society has fits +over their doings, but it can't get along without them."</p> + +<p>"The Fays are a pretty good family, aren't they?" inquired Bennington. +He was irresistibly impelled to ask this question.</p> + +<p>"Best going. Mayflower, William the Conqueror, and all that rot. You +must know of the Boston Fays."</p> + +<p>"I do. That is, I've heard of them; but I didn't know whether they were +the same."</p> + +<p>Jeems perceived that the topic interested the young fellow, so he +descanted at length concerning the Fays, their belongings, and their +doings. Time passed rapidly. Bennington was surprised to see Jim coming +down to them through the afterglow of sunset announcing vociferously +that the meal was at last prepared.</p> + +<p>"I've fed the old lady," he announced, "and unlocked her. She doesn't +know what's up anyway. She just sits there like a graven image, scared +to death. She doesn't know a relocation from a telegraph pole. I told +her to get a move on her and fix us up some bunks, and I guess she's +at it now."</p> + +<p>They consulted as to the best means of guarding the prisoners. It was +finally agreed that Leslie should stand sentinel until the others had +finished supper.</p> + +<p>"I want to watch the effect of this light on the hills," he announced +positively, "and I'm not hungry, and Jim ought to cool off before +coming out into the air, and Ben's shoulder ought to be taken care of. +Get along with ye!"</p> + +<p>Bennington accompanied Jim to the meal very cheerfully. The facts as to +the latter's persecutions remained the same, but in some way they did +not hold the same proportions as heretofore. The mere item that Jim Fay +was Mary's brother, instead of her lover, made all the difference in +the world. He chattered in a lively fashion concerning the method of +work to be adopted. Suddenly he pulled himself up short.</p> + +<p>"I think I must beg your pardon," he said. "I heard about it all from +Jim Leslie. I have been very green, and you were quite right. If you +still want to do so, let's go into this together as friends."</p> + +<p>"No pardon coming to me," responded Fay heartily. "I've been a little +tough on you occasionally, that I'll admit, and if I've done too much, +I'm sure I beg <i>your</i> pardon. I saw you had the right stuff in you that +day when you stuck to the horse until you rode him, and I've always +liked you first-rate since then. And I wouldn't worry about this last +matter. You were green to the country, and were put down here without +definite instructions. You trusted Davidson, of course, and got fooled +in it; but then you just followed Bishop's lead in that. He'd been +trusting Davidson before you got here, and if he hadn't trusted him +right along, you can bet you'd have had your directions from A to Z. He +was as much to blame as you were, and you'll find that he knows it."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you can't make me feel any better about that," objected +Bennington, shaking his head despondently.</p> + +<p>"Well, you'll feel better after a time, and anyway there's no actual +harm done."</p> + +<p>At this moment Bert Leslie entered.</p> + +<p>"Bill's tickled to death," he announced. "She says she's coming up +first thing in the morning. She wanted to come right off and cook +supper, but I wouldn't let her. She couldn't very well stay here all +night, and it's pretty late now. What you got here? Pork? Coffee? +Murphies?"</p> + +<p>He sat down and began to eat hungrily. Jim arose to relieve the +sentinel at the mouth of the shaft, at the same time advising de Laney +to go to bed as soon as possible.</p> + +<p>"You're tired," he said, "and need rest. Wet that compress well with +Pond's Extract, and we'll dress it again in the morning."</p> + +<p>In the kitchen he found the strange sombre woman sitting bolt upright +in silence, her arms folded rigidly across her flat bosom. She looked +straight in front of her, and rocked slowly to and fro on her chair.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't worry, Mrs. Arthur," consoled Fay kindly, pausing for a +moment. "There isn't going to be any trouble. It's just a little matter +of mining law. We'll have to keep your husband locked up for a few +days, but he won't be harmed."</p> + +<p>The woman made no reply. Fay looked at her sharply again, and passed +out.</p> + +<p>"Jeems," he directed that individual at the mouth of the shaft, "go get +your grub. Send the kid to bed right off, and then you and Bert come +down here and we'll fix up these prairie dogs of ours down the hole."</p> + +<p>Jeems and his brother therefore helped the wounded hero to bed, and +left him to a much-needed slumber; after which they returned to the +spot of light in the darkness which marked the glow of Fay's pipe. That +capable individual issued directions. First of all they lowered, by +means of a light cord, food and water to their prisoners. The latter +maintained a sullen silence, and it was only by the lightening of the +burden at the end of the line that those above knew their provisions +had been appropriated. Then followed blankets. The Leslies were +strongly in favour of as uncomfortable a confinement as possible, and +so disapproved of blankets, but Fay insisted. After that the brothers +manned the windlass and let Jim down in a bowline about twenty feet, +while he detached and removed two lengths of the shaft ladder. This +left no means of ascent, as the walls of the shaft were smoothly +timbered; but, to make matters sure, they covered the mouth with inch +thick boards on which they piled large chunks of ore.</p> + +<p>"You don't suppose they'll smother?" suggested Bert.</p> + +<p>"Not much! There's only three of them, and often men drilling will stay +down ten or twelve hours at a time without using up the air."</p> + +<p>"Sweet dreams, gentlemen!" called the irrepressible Jeems in farewell.</p> + +<p>"There's one other thing," said Jim, "and then we can crawl in."</p> + +<p>He approached the cabin in which Arthur and his wife were accustomed to +sleep, and listened until he had satisfied himself that Mrs. Arthur was +inside. Then he softly locked the door, the key of which he had +appropriated immediately after supper, and propped shut the heavy +wooden shutter of the window.</p> + +<p>"No dramatic escapes in ours, thank you!" he muttered. He drew back and +surveyed his work with satisfaction. "Come on, boys, let's turn in. +To-morrow we slave."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXI"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>THE LAND OF VISIONS</h3> +<br> + +<p>Although he had retired so early, and in so exhausted a condition, +Bennington de Laney could not sleep. He had taken a slight fever, and +the wound in his shoulder was stiff and painful. For hours on end he +lay flat on his back, staring at the dim illuminations of the windows +and listening to the faint out-of-door noises or the sharper borings of +insects in the logs of the structure. His mind was not active. He lay +in a semi-torpor, whose most vivid consciousness was that of mental +discomfort and the interminability of time.</p> + +<p>The events of the day rose up before him, but he seemed to loathe them +merely because they had been of so active a character, and now he could +not bear to have his brain teased even with their impalpable shadow.</p> + +<p>Strangely enough, this altitude seemed to create a certain dead +polarity between him and them. They lay sullenly outside his brain, +repelled by this dead polarity, and he looked at them languidly, +against the dim illumination of the window, with a dull joy that they +could not come near him and enter the realm of his thoughts. All this +was the fever.</p> + +<p>In a little time these events became endowed with more palpable bodies +which moved. The square of semilucent window faded into something +indescribable, and that into something indescribable, and that into +something else, still indescribable.</p> + +<p>They moved swiftly, and things happened. He found himself suddenly in a +long gallery, half in the dusk, half in the lamplight, pacing slowly +back and forth, waiting for something, he knew not what. To him came a +bustling motherly old woman with a maid's cap on, who said, "Sure, +Master Ben, the moon is shining, and, let me tell ye, at the end of the +hall is a balcony of iron, and Miss Mary will be glad you know that +same." And at that he seemed to himself to be hunting for a coin with +which to tip her. He discovered it turned to lead between his fingers, +whereupon the old woman laughed shrilly and disappeared, and he found +himself alone on the prairie at midnight.</p> + +<p>His mind seemed to be filled with great thoughts which would make him +famous. Over and over again he said to himself: "The rain pours and the +people down below chuckle as they move about each under his little +umbrella of self-conceit. They look up to the mountain, saying, 'The +fool! Why looks he so high? He is lost in the mists up there, and he +might be safe and dry with us.' But the mountain has over him the arch +of the universe, and sleeps calmly in the sun of truth. Little recks he +of the clouds below, and knows not at all the little self-satisfied +fools who pity him," and he thought this was the sum of all wisdom, and +that with it would come immortality.</p> + +<p>Then a bell began to boom, a deep-toned bell, whose tolling was +inexpressibly solemn, and poured into his heart a sadness too deep for +sorrow. As though there dwelt an enchantment in the very sound itself, +the dark prairies shifted like a scene, and in their stead he saw, in a +cold gray twilight, a high doorway built of a cold gray stone, +rough-hewed and heavy. Through its arch passed then a file of +gray-cowled monks, their faces concealed. Each carried a torch, whose +flickering, wavering light cast weird cowled figures on the gray stone, +and in their midst was borne a bier, covered with white. And as the +deep bell boomed on through all the vision, like a subtle thrilling +presence, Bennington seemed to himself to stand, finger on lip, the +eternal custodian of the Secret of it all—the secret that each of +these cowled figures was a Man—a divine soul and a body, with ears, +and eyes, and a brain; that he had thoughts, and his life that is and +is to come was of these thoughts; that there beat hearts beneath that +gray, and that their voices must not be heeded; that in the morning +these wearied eyes awaited but the eve, and that the evening brought no +hope for a new day; that these silent, awesome beings lived within the +heavy stones alone with monotony, until the bell tolled, as now, and +they were carried through the arched doorway into the night; and, above +all, that to each there were sixty minutes in the hour, and twenty-four +hours in the day, and years and years of these days. This was the +Secret, and he was its custodian. None of the others knew of it; but +its awfulness made him sad and stern. He checked the days, he numbered +the hours, he counted the minutes rigorously lest one escape. One did +escape, and he turned back to catch it, and pursued it far away from +the stone doorway and the dull twilight, and even the sound of the +bell, off into a land where there were many hills and valleys, among +which the fugitive Minute hid elusively. And he pursued the Minute, +calling upon it to come to him, and the name by which he called it was +Mary. Then he saw that the square of the window had become yellow with +the sun, and that through it he could hear plainly the voices of the +Leslies talking in high tones.</p> + +<p>His brain was very clear, more so than usual, and he not only received +many impressions, and ordered them with ease and despatch, but his very +senses seemed more than ordinarily acute. He could distinguish even by +day, when the night stillness had withdrawn its favouring conditions, +the borings of the sawdust insects in the logs of the cabin. Only he +was very tired. His hands seemed a long distance away, as though it +would require an extraordinary effort of the will to lift them. So he +lay quiet and listened.</p> + +<p>The conversation, of which he was the eavesdropper, was carried on by +fits and starts. First a sentence would be delivered by one of the +Leslies; then would ensue a pause as though for a reply, inaudible to +any but the interlocutors themselves; then another sentence; and so on, +like a man at a telephone. After a moment's puzzling over it, +Bennington understood that Jim Leslie was talking to one of the +prisoners down the shaft.</p> + +<p>"You have the true sporting spirit, sir," cried the voice of Jeems. "I +honour you for it. But so philosophical a resignation, while it +inclines our souls to know more of you personally, nevertheless renders +you much less interesting in such a juncture as the present. I would +like to hear from Mr. Davidson."</p> + +<p>Pause.</p> + +<p>"That was a performance, Mr. Davidson, which I can not entirely +commend. It is fluent, to be sure, but it lacks variety. A true artist +would have interspersed those finer shades and gradations of meaning +which go to express the numerous and clashing emotions which must +necessarily agitate your venerable bosom. You surely mean more than +<i>damn</i>. <i>Damn</i> is expressive and forceful, because capable of being +enunciated at one explosive effort of the breath, but it is monotonous +when too freely employed. To be sure, you might with some justice reply +that you had qualified said adjective strongly—but the qualification +was trite though blasphemous. And you limited it very nicely—but the +limitation to myself is unjust, as it overlooks my brother's equitable +claims to notice."</p> + +<p>Pause.</p> + +<p>"I <i>beg</i> pardon! Kindly repeat!"</p> + +<p>Pause.</p> + +<p>"Delicious! Mr. Davidson, you have redeemed yourself. Bertie, did you +hear Mr. Davidson's last remark?"</p> + +<p>"No!" replied another voice. "Couldn't be bothered. What was it?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Davidson, with a polished sarcasm that amounted to genius, advised +me in his picturesque vernacular 't' set thet jaw of mine goin', and +then go away an' leave it!'"</p> + +<p>Pause.</p> + +<p>"I beg you, Mr. Slayton, do not think of such a thing. I would not have +him repressed for anything in the world. As you value our future +acquaintanceship, do not end our interview. Thank you! I appreciate +your compliment, and in return will repeat that, though in a pretty +sharp game, you are a true sport. Our friend Arthur is strangely +silent. I have never met Mr. Arthur. I have heard that either his face +or his hat looks like a fried egg, but I forget for the moment which +was so characterized."</p> + +<p>Pause.</p> + +<p>"Fie, fie! Mr. Arthur. Addison, in his most intoxicated moments, would +never have used such language."</p> + +<p>And then the man in the cabin, lying on the bed, began to laugh in a +low tone. His laugh was not pleasant to hear. He was realizing how +funny things were to other people—things that had not been funny to +him at all. For the first time he caught a focus on his father, with +his pompous pride and his stilted diction; on his mother's social +creed. He cared as much for them as ever and his respect was as great, +but now he realized that outsiders could never understand them as he +did, and that always to others they must appear ridiculous. So he +laughed. And, too, he perceived that the world would see something +grimly humorous in his insistence on the girl's parentage, when all the +time, in the home to which he was to bring her, dwelt these unlovable, +snobbish old parents of his own. So he laughed. And he thought of how +he had been fooled, and played with, and duped, and cheated, and all +but disgraced by the very people on whom he had looked down from a +fancied superiority. And so he laughed. And as he laughed his hands +swelled up to the size of pillows, and he thought that he was dressed +in a loose garment spotted all over with great spots, and that he was +standing on a stage before these grave, silent hillmen. The light came +in through a golden-yellow square just behind them. In the front row +sat Mary, looking at him with wide-open, trusting eyes. And he was +revolving these hands like pillows around each other, trying to make +the sombre men and the wistful girl laugh with him, while over and +over certain words slipped in between his cachinnations, like stray +bird-notes through a rattle of drums.</p> + +<p>"I have no fresh motley for my lady's amusement," he was saying to her, +"no new philosophies to spread out for my lady's inspection, no bright +pictures to display for my lady's pleasure, and so I, like a poor +poverty-stricken minstrel whose harp has been broken, yet dare beg at +the castle gate for a crumb of my lady's bounty." At which he would +have wept, but could only laugh louder and louder.</p> + +<p>Then dimly he knew again he was in his own room, and he felt that +several people were moving back and forth quickly. He tried to rise, +but could not, and he knew that he was slipping back to the hall and +the solemn crowd of men. He did not want to go. He grasped convulsively +at the blanket with his sound hand, and shrieked aloud.</p> + +<p>"I am sick! I am sick! I am sick!" he cried louder and louder.</p> + +<p>Some one laid a cool hand on his forehead, and he lay quiet and smiled +contentedly. The room and the people became wraithlike. He saw them +still, but he saw through them to a reality of soft meadows and summer +skies, from which Mary leaned, resting her hand on his brow. Voices +spoke, but muffled, as though by many veils. They talked of various +things.</p> + +<p>"It's the mountain fever," he heard one say. "It's a wonder he escaped +it so long."</p> + +<p>Then the cool hand was withdrawn from his brow, and inexorably he was +hurried back into the land of visions.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;"> +<a name="CHAPTER_XXII"></a><h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>FLOWER O' THE WORLD</h3> +<br> + +<p>Bennington de Laney found himself lying comfortably in bed, listening +with closed eyes to a number of sounds. Of these there most impressed +him two. They were a certain rhythmical muffled beat, punctuated at +intervals by a slight rustling of paper; and a series of metallic +clicks, softened somewhat by distance. After a time it occurred to him +to open his eyes. At once he noticed two things more—that he had some +way acquired fresh white sheets for his bed, and that on a little table +near the foot of his bunk stood a vase of flowers. These two new +impressions satisfied him for some time. He brooded over them slowly, +for his brain was weak. Then he allowed his gaze to wander to the +window. From above its upper sash depended two long white curtains of +some lacelike material, freshly starched and with deep edges, ruffled +slightly in a pleasing fashion. They stirred slowly in the warm air +from the window. Bennington watched them lazily, breathing with +pleasure the balmy smell of pine, and listening to the sounds. The +clinking noises came through the open window. He knew now that they +meant the impact of sledge on drill. Some one was drilling somewhere. +His glance roved on, and rested without surprise on a girl in a rocking +chair swaying softly to and fro, and reading a book, the turning of +whose leaves had caused the rustling of paper which he had noticed +first.</p> + +<p>For a long time he lay silent and contented. Her fine brown hair had +been drawn back smoothly away from her forehead into a loose knot. She +was dressed in a simple gown of white—soft, and resting on the curves +of her slender figure as lightly as down on the surface of the warm +meadows. From beneath the full skirt peeped a little slippered foot, +which tapped the floor rhythmically as the chair rocked to and fro. +Finally she glanced up and discovered him locking at her. She arose and +came to the bedside, her finger on her lips.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't talk," she said sweetly, a great joy in her eyes. "I'm so +glad you're better."</p> + +<p>She left the room, and returned in a little time with a bowl of chicken +broth, which she fed him with a spoon. It tasted very good to him, and +he felt the stronger for it, but as yet his voice seemed a long +distance away. When she turned to leave the room, however, he murmured +inarticulately and attempted to stir. She came back to the bed at once.</p> + +<p>"I'll be back in a minute," she said gently, but seeing some look of +pleading in his eyes, she put the empty bowl and spoon on the little +table and sat down on the floor near the bed. He smiled, and then, +closing his eyes, fell asleep—outside the borders of the land of +visions, and with the music of a woman's voice haunting the last +moments of his consciousness.</p> + +<p>After the fever had once broken, his return to strength was rapid. +Although accompanied by delirium, and though running its full course of +weeks, the "mountain fever" is not as intense as typhoid. The +exhaustion of the vital forces is not as great, and recuperation is +easier. In two days Bennington was sitting up in bed, possessed of an +appetite that threatened to depopulate entirely the little log chicken +coop. He found that the tenancy of the camp had materially changed. +Mrs. Lawton and Miss Fay had moved in, bag and baggage—but without the +inquisitive Maude, Bennington was glad to observe.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lawton, in the presence of an emergency, turned out to be helpful +in every way. She knew all about mountain fevers for one thing, and as +the country was not yet blessed with a doctor, this was not an +unimportant item. Then, too, she was a most capable housekeeper—she +cooked, marketed, swept, dusted, and tyrannized over the mere men in a +manner to be envied even by a New England dame. Fay and the Leslies had +also taken up their quarters in the camp. Old Mizzou and the Arthurs +had gone. The old "bunk house" now accommodated a good-sized gang of +miners, who had been engaged by Fay to do the necessary assessment +work. Altogether the camp was very populous and lively.</p> + +<p>After a little Bennington learned of everything that had happened +during the three weeks of his sickness. It all came out in a series of +charming conversations, when, in the evening twilight, they gathered in +the room where the sick man lay. Mary—as Bennington still liked to +name her—occupied the rocking chair, and the three young men +distributed themselves as best suited them. It was most homelike and +resting. Bennington had never before experienced the delight of seeing +a young girl about a house, and he enjoyed to the utmost the deft +little touches by which is imparted that airily feminine appearance to +a room; or, more subtly, the mere spirit of daintiness which breathes +always from a woman of the right sort. He felt there was added a newer +and calmer element of joy to his love.</p> + +<p>During the first period of his illness, then, Jim Fay and the Leslie +brothers had worked energetically relocating the claims, while Mrs. +Lawton and Miss Fay had taken charge of the house. By the end of the +first day the job was finished. The question then came up as to the +disposition of the prisoners.</p> + +<p>"We didn't want the nuisance of a prosecution," said Fay, "because that +would mean that these mossbacks could drag us off to Rapid City any +old time as witnesses, and keep us there indefinitely. Neither did we +want to let them off scot-free. They'd made us altogether too much +trouble for that! Bert here suggested a very simple way out. I went +down to Spanish Gulch and told the boys the whole story from start to +finish. Well, it isn't hard to handle a Western crowd if you go at it +right. The boys always thought you had good stuff in you since you rode +the horse and smashed Leary's face that night. It would have been easy +to have cooked up all kinds of trouble for our precious gang, but I +managed to get the boys in a frivolous mood, so they merely came up and +had fun."</p> + +<p>"I should say they did!" Bert interjected. "They dragged the crowd out +of the shaft—and they were a tough-looking proposition, I can tell +you!--and stood them up in a row. They shaved half of Davidson's head +and half his beard, on opposite sides. They left tufts of hair all over +Arthur. They made a six-pointed star on the top of Slayton's crown. +Then they put the men's clothes on wrong side before, and tied them +facing the rear on three scrubby little burros. Then the whole outfit +was started toward Deadwood. The boys took them as far as Blue Lead, +where they delivered them over to the gang there, with instructions to +pass them along. They probably got to Deadwood. I don't know what's +become of them since."</p> + +<p>"I think it was cruel!" put in Miss Fay decidedly.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps. But it was better than hanging them."</p> + +<p>"What became of Mrs. Arthur?" asked the invalid.</p> + +<p>"I shipped her to Deadwood with a little money. Poor creature! It would +be a good thing for her if her husband never did show up. She'd get +along better without him."</p> + +<p>The claims located and the sharpers got rid of, Fay proceeded at once +to put the assessment work under way. In this, his long Western +experience, and his intimate acquaintance with the men, stood him in +such good stead that he was enabled to contract the work at a cheaper +rate than Bishop's estimate.</p> + +<p>"I wrote to Bishop," he said, "and told him all about it. In his +answer, which I'll show you, he took all the blame to himself, just as +I anticipated he would, and he's so tickled to death over the showing +made by the assays that he's coming out here himself to see about +development. So I'm afraid you're going to lose your job."</p> + +<p>"I'm not sorry to go home. But I'm sorry to leave the Hills." He looked +wistfully through the twilight toward Mary's slender figure, outlined +against the window. The three men caught the glance, and began at once +to talk in low tones to each other. In a moment they went out. Somehow, +on returning from the land of visions, Ben found that the world had +moved, and that one of the results of the movement was that many things +were taken for granted by the little community of four who surrounded +him. It was as though the tangle had unravelled quietly while he slept. +She leaned toward him shyly, and whispered something to his ear. He +smiled contentedly.</p> + +<p>They talked then long and comfortably in the dusk—about how the +Leslies had written the letter, how much trouble she had taken to +conceal her real identity, and all the rest.</p> + +<p>"I sent Bill Lawton up to warn your camp the first day I met you," said +she.</p> + +<p>"Why, I remember!" he cried. "He was there when I got back."</p> + +<p>And they talked on of their many experiences, in the fashion of lovers, +and how they had come to care for each other, and when.</p> + +<p>"I made up my mind it was so foolish a joke," she confessed, "that I +determined to tell you all about it. You remember I had something to +tell you at the Pioneer's Picnic? That was it. But then you remember +the girl in the train, and how, when she looked at us, you turned +away?"</p> + +<p>"I remember that well enough," replied Bennington. "But what has that +to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"It was a perfectly natural thing to do, dearest. I see that plainly +enough now. But it hurt me a little that you should be ashamed of me as +a Western girl, and I made up my mind to test you."</p> + +<p>"Why, I wasn't thinking of that at all," cried Bennington. "I was just +ashamed of my clothes. I never thought of you!"</p> + +<p>She reached out and patted his hand. "I'm glad to hear that, Ben dear, +after all. It did hurt. And I was so foolish. I thought if you were +ashamed of me, you would never stand the thought of the Lawtons. So I +did not tell you the truth then, but resolved to test you in that way."</p> + +<p>"Foolish little girl!" said he tenderly. "But it came out all right, +didn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she sighed, with a happy gesture of the hands. They fell silent.</p> + +<p>"I want you to tell me something, dear," said Bennington after a while. +"You needn't unless you want to, but I've thought about it a great +deal."</p> + +<p>"I will tell you, Ben, anything in the world. We ought to be frank with +each other now, don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know as I ought to say anything about it, after all," he +hesitated, evidently embarrassed. "But, Mary, you know you have hinted +a little at it yourself. You remember you said something once about +losing faith, and being made hard, and----"</p> + +<p>She took both his hands in hers and drew them closely to her breast. +Although he could not see her eyes against the dusk, he knew that she +was looking at him steadily.</p> + +<p>"Listen quietly, Ben dear, and I will tell you. Before I came out here +I thought I loved a man, and he—well, he did not treat me well. I had +trusted him and every one else implicitly until the very moment +when----I felt it very much, and I came West with Jim to get away from +the old scenes. Now I know that it was only fascination, but it was +very real then. You do not like that, Ben, do you? The memory is not +pleasant to me, and yet," she said, with a wistful little break of the +voice, "if it hadn't been for that I would not have been the woman I +am, and I could not love you, dearest, as I do. It is never in the same +way twice, but each time something better and higher is added to it. +Oh, my darling, I <i>do</i> love you, I do love you so much, and you must be +always my generous, poetic <i>boy</i>, as you are now."</p> + +<p>She strained his hands to her as though afraid he would slip from her +clasp. "All that is ideal so soon hardens. I can not bear to think of +your changing."</p> + +<p>Bennington leaned forward and their lips met. "We will forgive him," he +murmured.</p> + +<p>And what that remark had to do with it only our gentler readers will be +able to say.</p> + +<p>Ah, the delicious throbbing silence after the first kiss!</p> + +<p>"What was your decision that afternoon on the Rock, Ben? You never told +me." She asked presently, in a lighter tone, "Would you have taken me +in spite of my family?"</p> + +<p>He laughed with faint mischief.</p> + +<p>"Before I tell you, I want to ask <i>you</i> something," he said in his +turn. "Supposing I had decided that, even though I loved you, I must +give you up because of my duty to my family—suppose that, I say—what +would <i>you</i> have done? Would your love for me have been so strong that +you would have finally confessed to me the fact that the Lawtons were +not your parents? Or would you have thrown me over entirely because you +thought I did not love you enough to take you for yourself?"</p> + +<p>She considered the matter seriously for some little time.</p> + +<p>"Ben, I don't know," she confessed at last frankly. "I can't tell."</p> + +<p>"No more can I, sweetheart. I hadn't decided."</p> + +<p>She puckered her brows in the darkness with genuine distress. Women +worry more than men over past intangibilities. He smiled comfortably to +himself, for in his grasp he held, unresisting, the dearest little hand +in the world. Outside, the ever-charming, ever-mysterious night of the +Hills was stealing here and there in sighs and silences. From the +darkness came the high sweet tenor of Bert Leslie's voice in the words +of a song:</p> + +"A Sailor to the Sea, a Hunter to the Pines,<br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Sea and Pines alike to joy the Rover,</span><br> +The Wood-smells to the nostrils of the Lover of the Trail,<br> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And Hearts to Hearts the whole World over!"</span><br> + +<p>Through and through the words of the song, like a fine silver wire +through richer cloth of gold, twined the long-drawn, tremulous notes +of the white-throated sparrow, the nightingale of the North.</p> + +<p>"The dear old Hills," he murmured tenderly. "We must come back to them +often, sweetheart."</p> + +<p>"I wish, I <i>wish</i> I knew!" she cried, holding his hand tighter.</p> + +<p>"Knew what?" he asked, surprised.</p> + +<p>"What you'd have done, and what I'd have done!"</p> + +<p>"Well," he replied, with a happy sigh, "I know what I'm <i>going</i> to do, +and that's quite enough for me."</p> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Claim Jumpers, by Stewart Edward White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLAIM JUMPERS *** + +***** This file should be named 10942-h.htm or 10942-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/9/4/10942/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Claim Jumpers + +Author: Stewart Edward White + +Release Date: February 4, 2004 [EBook #10942] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLAIM JUMPERS *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +THE CLAIM JUMPERS + +_A ROMANCE_ + + +BY + +STEWART EDWARD WHITE + + + + +1901 + + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER + + I.--JIM LESLIE WRITES A LETTER + II.--THE STORY-BOOK WEST + III.--BENNINGTON HUNTS FOR GOLD AND FINDS A KISS + IV.--THE SUN FAIRY + V.--THE SPIRIT MOUNTAIN + VI.--BENNINGTON AS A MAN OF BUSINESS + VII.--THE MEETING AT THE ROCK + VIII.--AN ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT + IX.--THE HEAVENS OPENED + X.--THE WORLD MADE YOUNG + XI.--AND HE DID EAT + XII.--OLD MIZZOU RESIGNS + XIII.--THE SPIRES OF STONE + XIV.--THE PIONEER'S PICNIC + XV.--THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN + XVI.--A NOON DINNER + XVII.--NOBLESSE OBLIGE +XVIII.--THE CLAIM JUMPERS + XIX.--BENNINGTON PROVES GAME + XX.--MASKS OFF + XXI.--THE LAND OF VISIONS + XXII.--FLOWER O' THE WORLD + + + + +CHAPTER I + +JIM LESLIE WRITES A LETTER + + +In a fifth-story sitting room of a New York boarding house four youths +were holding a discussion. The sitting room was large and square, and +in the wildest disorder, which was, however, sublimated into a certain +system by an illuminated device to the effect that one should "Have a +Place for Everything, and then there'll be one Place you won't have to +look." Easels and artists' materials thrust back to the wall +sufficiently advertised the art student, and perhaps explained the +untidiness. + +Two of the occupants of the room, curled up on elevated window ledges, +were emitting clouds of tobacco smoke and nursing their knees; the +other two, naked to the waist, sat on a couple of ordinary bedroom +mattresses deposited carefully in the vacant centre of the apartment. +They were eager, alert-looking young men, well-muscled, curly of hair, +and possessing in common an unabashed carriage of the head which, more +plainly than any mere facial resemblance, proved them brothers. They, +too, were nursing their knees. + +"He must be an unadorned ass," remarked one of the occupants of the +window seats, in answer to some previous statement. + +"He is not," categorically denied a youth of the mattresses. "My dear +Hench, you make no distinctions. I've been talking about the boy's +people and his bringing up and the way he acts, whereupon you fly off +on a tangent and coolly conclude things about the boy himself. It is +not only unkind, but stupid." + +Hench laughed. "You amuse me, Jeems," said he; "elucidate." + +Jeems let go his knees. The upper part of his body, thus deprived of +support, fell backward on the mattress. He then clasped his hands +behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. + +"Listen, ye multitude," he began; "I'm an artist. So are you. I'm also +a philosopher. You are not. Therefore, I'll deign to instruct you. Ben +de Laney has a father and a mother. The father is pompous, conceited, +and a bore. The mother is pompous, conceited, and a bore. The father +uses language of whose absolutely vapid correctness Addison would have +been proud. So does the mother, unless she forgets, in which case the +old man calls her down hard. They, are rich and of a good social +position. The latter worries them, because they have to keep up its +dignity." + +"They succeed," interrupted the other brother fervently, "they succeed. +I dined there once. After that I went around to the waxworks to get +cheered up a bit." + +"Quite so, Bertie," replied the philosopher; "but you interrupted me +just before I got to my point. The poor old creatures had been married +many years before Bennie came to cheer _them_ up. Naturally, Bennie has +been the whole thing ever since. He is allowed a few privileges, but +always under the best auspices. The rest of the time he stays at home, +is told what or what not a gentleman should do, and is instructed in +the genealogy of the de Laneys." + +"The mother is always impressing him with the fact that he is a de +Laney on both sides," interpolated Bert. + +"Important, if true, as the newspapers say," remarked the other young +man on the window ledge. "What constitutes a de Laney?" + +"Hereditary lack of humour, Beck, my boy. Well, the result is that poor +Bennie is a sort of----" the speaker hesitated for his word. + +"'Willy boy,'" suggested Beck, mildly. + +"Something of the sort, but not exactly. A 'willy boy' never has ideas. +Bennie has." + +"Such as?" + +"Well, for one thing, he wants to get away. He doesn't seem quite +content with his job of idle aristocrat. I believe he's been pestering +the old man to send him West. Old man doesn't approve." + +"'That the fine bloom of culture will become rubbed off in the contact +with rude, rough men, seems to me inevitable,'" mimicked Bert in +pedantic tones, "'unless a firm sense of personal dignity and an +equally firm sense of our obligations to more refined though absent +friends hedges us about with adequate safeguards.'" + +The four laughed. "That's his style, sure enough," Jim agreed. + +"What does he want to do West?" asked Hench. + +"_He_ doesn't know. Write a book, I believe, or something of that sort. +But he _isn't_ an ass. He has a lot of good stuff in him, only it will +never get a chance, fixed the way he is now." + +A silence fell, which was broken at last by Bert. + +"Come, Jeems," he suggested; "here we've taken up Hench's valuable +idea, but are no farther with it." + +"True," said Jeems. + +He rolled over on his hands and knees. Bert took up a similar position +by his side. + +"Go!" shouted Hench from the window ledge. + +At the word, the two on the mattress turned and grappled each other +fiercely, half rising to their feet in the strenuousness of endeavour. +Jeems tried frantically for a half-Nelson. While preventing it the wily +Bert awaited his chance for a hammer-lock. In the moment of indecision +as to which would succeed in his charitable design, a knock on the door +put an end to hostilities. The gladiators sat upright and panted. + +A young man stepped bashfully into the room and closed the door behind +him. + +The newcomer was a clean-cut young fellow, of perhaps twenty-two years +of age, with regular features, brown eyes, straight hair, and sensitive +lips. He was exceedingly well-dressed. A moment's pause followed his +appearance. Then: + +"Why, it's our old friend, the kid!" cried Jeems. + +"Don't let me interrupt," begged the youth diffidently. + +"No interruption. End of round one," panted Jeems. "Glad you came. +Bertie, here, was twisting my delicate clavicle most cruelly. Know +Hench and Beck there?" + +De Laney bowed to the young men in the window, who removed their pipes +from their mouths and grinned amiably. + +"This, gentlemen," explained Jeems, without changing his position, "is +Mr. Bennie de Laney on both sides. It is extremely fortunate for Mr. de +Laney that he is a de Laney on both sides, for otherwise he would be +lop-sided." + +"You will find a seat, Mr. de Laney, in the adjoining bedroom," said +the first, with great politeness; "and if you don't care to go in +there, you will stand yourself in the corner by that easel until the +conclusion of this little discussion between Jeems and myself.--Jeems, +will you kindly state the merits of the discussion to the gentleman? +I'm out of breath." + +Jeems kindly would. + +"Bert and I have, for the last few weeks, been obeying the parting +commands of our dear mother. 'Boys,' said she, with tears in her eyes, +'Boys, always take care of one another.' So each evening I have tried +to tuck Bertie in his little bed, and Bertie, with equal enthusiasm, +has attempted to tuck _me_ in. It has been hard on pyjamas, bed +springs, and the temper of the Lady with the Piano who resides in the +apartments immediately beneath; so, at the wise suggestion of our +friends in the windows"--he waved a graceful hand toward them, and they +gravely bowed acknowledgment--"we are now engaged in deciding the +matter Graeco-Roman. The winner 'tucks.' Come on, Bertie." + +The two again took position side by side, on their hands and knees, +while Mr. Hench explained to de Laney that this method of beginning the +bout was necessary, because the limited area of the mat precluded +flying falls. At a signal from Mr. Beck, they turned and grappled, +Jeems, by the grace of Providence, on top. In the course of the combat +it often happened that the two mattresses would slide apart. The +contestants, suspending their struggles, would then try to kick them +together again without releasing the advantage of their holds. The +noise was beautiful. To de Laney, strong in maternal admonitions as to +proper deportment, it was all new and stirring, and quite without +precedent. He applauded excitedly, and made as much racket as the +rest. + +A sudden and vigorous knock for the second time put an end to +hostilities. The wrestlers again sat bolt upright on the mattresses, +and listened. + +"Gentlemen," cried an irritated German voice, "there is a lady +schleeping on the next floor!" + +"Karl, Karl!" called one of the irrepressibles, "can I never teach you +to be accurate! No lady could possibly be sleeping anywhere in the +building." + +He arose from the mattress and shook himself. + +"Jeems," he continued sadly, "the world is against true virtue. Our +dear mother's wishes can not be respected." + +De Laney came out of his corner. + +"Fellows," he cried with enthusiasm, "I want you to come up and stay +all night with me some time, so mother can see that gentlemen can make +a noise!" + +Bertie sat down suddenly and shrieked. Jeems rolled over and over, +clutching small feathers from the mattress in the agony of his delight, +while the clothed youths contented themselves with amused but gurgling +chuckles. + +"Bennie, my boy," gasped Jeems, at last, "you'll be the death of me! O +Lord! O Lord! You unfortunate infant! You shall come here and have a +drum to pound; yes, you shall." He tottered weakly to his feet. "Come, +Bertie, let us go get dressed." + +The two disappeared into the bedroom, leaving de Laney uncomfortably +alone with the occupants of the window ledge. + +The young fellow walked awkwardly across the room and sat down on a +partly empty chair, not because he preferred sitting to standing, but +in order to give himself time to recover from his embarrassment. + +The sort of chaffing to which he had just been subjected was direct and +brutal; it touched all his tender spots--the very spots wherein he +realized the intensest soreness of his deficiencies, and about which, +therefore, he was the most sensitive--yet, somehow, he liked it. This +was because the Leslie boys meant to him everything free and young that +he had missed in the precise atmosphere of his own home, and so he +admired them and stood in delightful inferiority to them in spite of +his wealth and position. He would have given anything he owned to have +felt himself one of their sort; but, failing that, the next best thing +was to possess their intimacy. Of this intimacy chaffing was a gauge. +Bennington Clarence de Laney always glowed at heart when they rubbed +his fur the wrong way, for it showed that they felt they knew him well +enough to do so. And in this there was something just a little +pathetic. + +Bennington held to the society standpoint with men, so he thought he +must keep up a conversation. He did so. It was laboured. Bennington +thought of things to say about Art, the Theatre, and Books. Hench and +Beck looked at each other from time to time. + +Finally the door opened, and, to the relief of all, two sweatered and +white-ducked individuals appeared. + +"And now, Jeems, we'll smoke the pipe of peace," suggested Bert, diving +for the mantel and the pipe rack. + +"Correct, my boy," responded Jeems, doing likewise. They lit up, and +turned with simultaneous interest to their latest caller. + +"And how is the proud plutocrat?" inquired Bert; "and how did he +contrive to get leave to visit us rude and vulgar persons?" + +The Leslies had called at the de Laneys', and, as Bert said, had dined +there once. They recognised their status, and rejoiced therein. + +"He is calling on the minister," explained Jeems for him. "Bennington, +my son, you'll get caught at that some day, as sure as shooting. If +your mamma ever found out that, instead of talking society-religion to +old Garnett, you were revelling in this awful dissipation, you'd have +to go abroad again." + +"What did you call him?" inquired Bert. + +"Call who?" + +"Him--Bennie--what was that full name?" + +"Bennington." + +"Great Scott! and here I've been thinking all the time he was plain +Benjamin! Tell us about it, my boy. What is it? It sounds like a battle +of the Revolution. _Is_ it a battle of the Revolution? Just to think +that all this time we have been entertaining unawares a real live +battle!" + +De Laney grinned, half-embarrassed as usual. + +"It's a family name," said he. "It's the name of an ancestor." + +He never knew whether or not these vivacious youths really desired the +varied information they demanded. + +The Leslies looked upon him with awe. + +"You don't mean to tell me," said Bertie, "that you are a Bennington! +Well, well! This is a small world! We will celebrate the discovery." He +walked to the door and touched a bell five times. "Beautiful system," +he explained. "In a moment Karl will appear with five beers. This +arrangement is possible because never, in any circumstances, do we ring +for anything but beer." + +The beer came. Two steins, two glasses, and a carefully scrubbed +shaving mug were pressed into service. After the excitement of finding +all these things had died, and the five men were grouped about the +place in ungraceful but comfortable attitudes, Bennington bid for the +sympathy he had sought in this visit. + +"Fellows," said he, "I've something to tell you." + +"Let her flicker," said Jim. + +"I'm going away next week. It's all settled." + +"Bar Harbour, Trouville, Paris, or Berlin?" + +"None of them. I'm going West." + +"Santa Barbara, Los Angeles, San Diego, or Monterey?" + +"None of them. I'm going to the real West. I'm going to a mining camp." + +The Leslies straightened their backbones. + +"Don't spring things on us that way," reproved Bertie severely; "you'll +give us heart disease. Now repeat softly." + +"I am going to a mining camp," obeyed Bennington, a little +shamefacedly. + +"With whom?" + +"Alone." + +This time the Leslies sprang quite to their feet. + +"By the Great Horn Spoon, man!" cried Jim. "Alone! No chaperon! Good +Lord!" + +"Yes," said Bennington, "I've always wanted to go West. I want to +write, and I'm sure, in that great, free country, I'll get a chance for +development. I had to work hard to induce father and mother to consent, +but it's done now, and I leave next week. Father procured me a position +out there in one of the camps. I'm to be local treasurer, or something +like that; I'm not quite sure, you see, for I haven't talked with +Bishop yet. I go to his office for directions to-morrow." + +At the mention of Bishop the Leslies glanced at each other behind the +young man's back. + +"Bishop?" repeated Jim. "Where's your job located?" + +"In the Black Hills of South Dakota, somewhere near a little place +called Spanish Gulch." + +This time the Leslies winked at each other. + +"It's a nice country," commented Bert vaguely; "I've been there." + +"Oh, have you?" cried the young man. "What's it like?" + +"Hills, pines, log houses, good hunting--oh, it's Western enough." + +A clock struck in a church tower outside. In spite of himself, +Bennington started. + +"Better run along home," laughed Jim; "your mamma will be angry." + +To prove that this consideration carried no weight, Bennington stayed +ten minutes longer. Then he descended the five flights of stairs +deliberately enough, but once out of earshot of his friends, he ran +several blocks. Before going into the house he took off his shoes. In +spite of the precaution, his mother called to him as he passed her +room. It was half past ten. + +Beck and Hench kicked de Laney's chair aside, and drew up more +comfortably before the fire; but James would have none of it. He seemed +to be excited. + +"No," he vetoed decidedly. "You fellows have got to get out! I've got +something to do, and I can't be bothered." + +The visitors grumbled. "There's true hospitality for you," objected +they; "turn your best friends out into the cold world! I like that!" + +"Sorry, boys," insisted James, unmoved. "Got an inspiration. Get out! +Vamoose!" + +They went, grumbling loudly down the length of the stairs, to the +disgust of the Lady with the Piano on the floor below. + +"What're you up to, anyway, Jimmie?" inquired the brother with some +curiosity. + +James had swept a space clear on the table, and was arranging some +stationery. + +"Don't you care," he replied; "you just sit down and read your little +Omar for a while." + +He plunged into the labours of composition, and Bert sat smoking +meditatively. After some moments the writer passed a letter over to the +smoker. + +"Think it'll do?" he inquired. + +Bert read the letter through carefully. + +"Jeems," said he, after due deliberation, "Jeems, you're a blooming +genius." + +James stamped the envelope. + +"I'll mail it for you when I go out in the morning," Bert suggested. + +"Not on your daily bread, sonny. It is posted now by my own hand. We +won't take any chances on _this_ layout, and that I can tell you." + +He tramped down four flights and to the corner, although it was +midnight and bitter cold. Then, with a seraphic grin on his +countenance, he went to bed and slept the sleep of the just. + +The envelope was addressed to a Mr. James Fay, Spanish Gulch, South +Dakota. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE STORY-BOOK WEST + + +When a man is twenty-one, and has had no experience, and graduates from +a small college where he roomed alone in splendour, and possesses a +gift of words and a certain delight in reading, and is thrown into new +and, to him, romantic surroundings--when all these stars of chance +cross their orbits, he begins to write a novel. The novel never has +anything to do with the aforesaid new and romantic surroundings; +neither has it the faintest connection with anything the author has +ever seen. That would limit his imagination. + +Once he was well settled in his new home, and the first excitement of +novel impressions had worn off, Bennington de Laney began to write +regularly three hours a day. He did his scribbling with a fountain pen, +on typewriter paper, and left a broad right-hand margin, just as he had +seen Brooks do. In it he experienced, above all, a delightful feeling +of power. He enjoyed to the full his ability to swing gorgeous involved +sentences, phrase after phrase, down the long arc of rhetoric, without +a pause, without a quiver, until they rushed unhasting up the other +slope to end in beautiful words, polysyllabic, but with just the right +number of syllables. Interspersed were short sentences. He counted the +words in one or the other of these two sorts, carefully noting the +relations they bore to each other. On occasions he despaired because +they did not bear the right relations. And he also dragged out, +squirming, the Anglo-Saxon and Latin derivations, and set them up in a +row that he might observe their respective numbers. He was uneasily +conscious that he ought, in the dread of college anathema, to use the +former, but he loved the many-syllabled crash or modulated music of the +latter. Also, there was the question of getting variety into his +paragraph lengths. It was all excellent practice. + +And yet this technique, absorbing as it was, counted as nothing in +comparison with the subject-matter. + +The method was talent; the subject-matter was Genius; and Genius had +evolved an Idea which no one had ever thought of before--something +brand new under the sun. It goes without saying that the Idea +symbolized a great Truth. One department, the more impersonal, of +Bennington's critical faculty, assured him that the Idea would take +rank with the Ideas of Plato and Emerson. Emerson, Bennington +worshipped. Plato he also worshipped--because Emerson told him to. He +had never read Plato himself. The other, the more personal and modest, +however, had perforce to doubt this, not because it doubted the Idea, +but because Bennington was not naturally conceited. + +To settle the discrepancy he began to write. He laid the scene in +Arabia and decided to call it _Aliris: A Romance of all Time_, because +he liked the smooth, easy flow of the syllables. + +The consciousness that he could do all this sugar-coated his Wild +Western experiences, which otherwise might have been a little +disagreeable. He could comfort himself with the reflection that he was +superior, if ridiculous. + +In spots, he was certainly the latter. The locality into which his +destinies had led him lay in the tumultuous centre of the Hills, about +thirty miles from Custer and ten from Hill City. Spanish Gulch was +three miles down the draw. The Holy Smoke mine, to which Bennington was +accredited, he found to consist of a hole in the ground, of unsounded +depth, two log structures, and a chicken coop. The log structures +resembled those he had read about. In one of them lived Arthur and his +wife. The wife did the cooking. Arthur did nothing at all but sit in +the shade and smoke a pipe, and this in spite of the fact that he did +not look like a loafer. He had no official connection with the place, +except that of husband to Mrs. Arthur. The other member of the +community was Davidson, alias Old Mizzou. + +The latter was cordial and voluble. As he was blessed with a long white +beard of the patriarchal type, he inspired confidence. He used +exclusively the present tense and chewed tobacco. He also played +interminable cribbage. Likewise he talked. The latter was his strong +point. Bennington found that within two days of his arrival he knew all +about the company's business without having proved the necessity of +stirring foot on his own behalf. The claims were not worth much, +according to Old Mizzou. The company had been cheated. They would find +it out some day. None of the ore assayed very high. For his part he did +not see why they even did assessment work. Bennington was to look after +the latter? All in good time. You know you had until the end of the +year to do it. What else was there to do? Nothing much; The present +holders had come into the property on a foreclosed mortgage, and +weren't doing anything to develop it yet. Did Bennington know of their +plans? No? Well, it looked as though the two of them were to have a +pretty easy time of it, didn't it? + +Old Mizzou tried, by adroit questioning, to find out just why de Laney +had been sent West. There was, in reality, not enough to keep one man +busy, and surely Old Mizzou considered himself quite competent to +attend to that. Finally, he concluded that it must be to watch +him--Old Mizzou. Acting on that supposition, he tried a new tack. + +For two delicious hours he showed up, to his own satisfaction, +Bennington's ignorance of mining. That was an easy enough task. +Bennington did not even know what country-rock was. All he succeeded in +eliciting confirmed him in the impression that de Laney was sent to spy +on him. But why de Laney? Old Mizzou wagged his gray beard. And why spy +on him? What could the company want to know? He gave it up. One thing +alone was clear: this young man's understanding of his duties was very +simple. Bennington imagined he was expected to see certain assessment +work done (whatever that was), and was to find out what he could about +the value of the property. + +As a matter of sedulously concealed truth, he was really expected to do +nothing at all. The place had been made for him through Mr. de Laney's +influence, because he wanted to go West. + +"Now, my boy," Bishop, the mining capitalist, had said, when +Bennington had visited him in his New York office, "do you know +anything about mining?" + +"No, sir," Bennington replied. + +"Well, that doesn't matter much. We don't expect to do anything in the +way of development. The case, briefly, is this: We've bought this +busted proposition of the people who were handling it, and have assumed +their debt. They didn't run it right. They had a sort of a wildcat +individual in charge of the thing, and he got contracts for sinking +shafts with all the turtlebacks out there, and then didn't pay for +them. Now, what we want you to do is this: First of all, you're to take +charge financially at that end of the line. That means paying the local +debts as we send you the money, and looking after whatever expenditures +may become necessary. Then you'll have to attend to the assessment +work. Do you know what assessment work is?" + +"No, sir." + +"Well, in order to hold the various claims legally, the owners have to +do one hundred dollars' worth of work a year on each claim. If the +work isn't done, the claims can be 'jumped.' You'll have to hire the +men, buy the supplies, and see that the full amount is done. We have a +man out there named Davidson. You can rely on him, and he'll help you +out in all practical matters. He's a good enough practical miner, but +he's useless in bossing a job or handling money. Between you, you ought +to get along." + +"I'll try, anyway." + +"That's right. Then, another thing. You can put in your spare time +investigating what the thing is worth. I don't expect much from you in +that respect, for you haven't had enough experience; but do the best +you can. It'll be good practice, anyway. Hunt up Davidson; go over all +the claims; find out how the lead runs, and how it holds out; get +samples and ship them to me; investigate everything you can, and don't +be afraid to write when you're stuck." + +In other words, Bennington was to hold the ends of the reins while some +one else drove. But he did not know that. He felt his responsibility. + +As to the assessment work, Old Mizzou had already assured him there was +no immediate hurry; men were cheaper in the fall. As to investigating, +he started in on that at once. He and Davidson climbed down shafts, and +broke off ore, and worked the gold pan. It was fun. + +In the morning Bennington decided to work from seven until ten on +_Aliris_. Then for three hours he and Old Mizzou prospected. In the +afternoon the young man took a vacation and hunted Wild Western +adventures. + +It may as well be remarked here that Bennington knew all about the West +before he left home. Until this excursion he had never even crossed the +Alleghanies, but he thought he appreciated the conditions thoroughly. +This was because he was young. He could close his eyes and see the +cowboys scouring the plain. As a parenthesis it should be noted that +cowboys always scour the plain, just as sailors always scan the +horizon. He knew how the cowboys looked, because he had seen Buffalo +Bill's show; and he knew how they talked, because he had read accurate +authors of the school of Bret Harte. He could even imagine the +romantic mountain maidens. + +With his preconceived notions the country, in most particulars, tallied +interestingly. At first Bennington frequented the little town down the +draw. It answered fairly well to the story-book descriptions, but +proved a bit lively for him. The first day they lent him a horse. The +horse looked sleepy. It took him twenty minutes to get on the animal +and twenty seconds to fall off. There was an audience. They made him +purchase strange drinks at outlandish prices. After that they shot +holes all around his feet to induce him to dance. He had inherited an +obstinate streak from some of his forebears, and declined when it went +that far. They then did other things to him which were not pleasant. +Most of these pranks seemed to have been instigated by a laughing, +curly-haired young man named Fay. Fay had clear blue eyes, which seemed +always to mock you. He could think up more diabolical schemes in ten +minutes than the rest of the men in as many hours. Bennington came +shortly to hate this man Fay. His attentions had so much of the +gratuitous! For a number of days, even after the enjoyment of novelty +had worn off, the Easterner returned bravely to Spanish Gulch every +afternoon for the mail. It was a matter of pride with him. He did not +like to be bluffed out. But Fay was always there. + +"Tender _foot!_" the latter would shriek joyously, and bear down on the +shrinking de Laney. + +That would bring out the loafers. It all had to happen over again. + +Bennington hoped that this performance would cease in time. It never +did. + +By a mental process, unnecessary to trace here, he modified his first +views, and permitted Old Mizzou to get the mail. Spanish Gulch saw him +no more. + +After all, it was quite as good Western experience to wander in the +hills. He did not regret the other. In fact, as he cast in review his +research in Wild West literature, he perceived that the incidents of +his town visits were the proper thing. He would not have had them +different--to look back on. They were inspiring--to write home about. +He recognised all the types--the miner, the gambler, the +saloon-keeper, the bad man, the cowboy, the prospector--just as though +they had stepped living from the pages of his classics. They had the +true slouch; they used the picturesque language. The log cabins squared +with his ideas. The broncos even exceeded them. + +But now he had seen it all. There is no sense in draining an agreeable +cup to satiety. He was quite content to enjoy his rambles in the hills, +like the healthy youngster he was. But had he seen it all? On +reflection, he acknowledged he could not make this statement to himself +with a full consciousness of sincerity. One thing was lacking from the +preconceived picture his imagination had drawn. There had been no +Mountain Flowers. By that he meant girls. + +Every one knows what a Western girl is. She is a beautiful creature, +always, with clear, tanned skin, bright eyes, and curly hair. She wears +a Tam o' Shanter. She rides a horse. Also, she talks deliciously, in a +silver voice, about "old pards." Altogether a charming vision--in +books. + +This vision Bennington had not yet realized. The rest of the West came +up to specifications, but this one essential failed. In Spanish Gulch +he had, to be sure, encountered a number of girls. But they were +red-handed, big-boned, freckled-faced, rough-skinned, and there wasn't +a Tam o' Shanter in the lot. Plainly servants, Bennington thought. The +Mountain Flower must have gone on a visit. Come to think of it, there +never was more than one Mountain Flower to a town. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +BENNINGTON HUNTS FOR GOLD AND FINDS A KISS + + +One day Old Mizzou brought him a blue-print map. + +"This y'ar map," said he, spreading it out under his stubby fingers, +"shows the deestrict. I gets it of Fay, so you gains an idee of th' lay +of the land a whole lot. Them claims marked with a crost belongs to th' +Company. You kin take her and explore." + +This struck Bennington as an excellent idea. He sat down at the table +and counted the crosses. There were fourteen of them. The different +lodes were laid off in mathematically exact rectangles, running in many +directions. A few joined one another, but most lay isolated. Their +relative positions were a trifle confusing at first, but, after a +little earnest study, Bennington thought he understood them. He could +start with the Holy Smoke, just outside the door. The John Logan lay +beyond, at an obtuse angle. Then a jump of a hundred yards or so to the +southwest would bring him to the Crazy Horse. This he resolved to +locate, for it was said to be on the same "lode" as a big strike some +one had recently made. He picked up his rifle and set out. + +Now, a blue-print map maker has undoubtedly accurate ideas as to points +of the compass, and faultless proficiency in depicting bird's-eye +views, but he neglects entirely the putting in of various ups and down, +slants and windings of the country, which apparently twist the north +pole around to the east-south-east. You start due west on a bee line, +according to directions; after about ten feet you scramble over a +fallen tree, skirt a boulder, dip into a ravine, and climb a ledge. +Your starting point is out of sight behind you; your destination is, +Heaven knows where, in front. By the time you have walked six thousand +actual feet, which is as near as you can guess to fifteen hundred +theoretical level ones, your little blazed stake in a pile of stones is +likely to be almost anywhere within a liberal quarter of a mile. Then +it is guess-work. If the hill is pretty thickly staked out, the chase +becomes exciting. In the middle distance you see a post. You clamber +eagerly to it, only to find that it marks your neighbour's claim. You +have lost your standpoint of a moment ago, and must start afresh. In an +hour's time you have discovered every stake on the hill but the one you +want. In two hours' time you are staggering homeward a gibbering idiot. +Then you are brought back to profane sanity by falling at full length +over the very object of your search. + +Bennington was treated to full measure of this experience. He found the +John Logan lode without much difficulty, and followed its length with +less, for the simple reason that its course lay over the round brow of +a hill bare of trees. He also discovered the "Northeast Corner of the +Crazy Horse Lode" plainly marked on the white surface of a pine stake +braced upright in a pile of rocks. Thence he confidently paced south, +and found nothing. Next trip he came across pencilled directions +concerning the "Miner's Dream Lode." The time after he ran against the +"Golden Ball" and the "Golden Chain Lodes." Bennington reflected; his +mind was becoming a little heated. + +"It's because I went around those ledges and boulders," he said to +himself; "I got off the straight line. This time I'll take the straight +line and keep it." + +So he addressed himself to the surmounting of obstructions. Work of +that sort is not easy. At one point he lost his hold on a broad, steep +rock, and slid ungracefully to the foot of it, his elbows digging +frantically into the moss, and his legs straddled apart. As he struck +bottom, he imagined he heard a most delicious little laugh. So real was +the illusion that he gripped two handfuls of moss and looked about +sharply, but of course saw nothing. The laugh was repeated. + +He looked again, and so became aware of a Vision in pink, standing just +in front of a big pine above him on the hill and surveying him with +mischievous eyes. + +Surprise froze him, his legs straddled, his hat on one side, his mouth +open. The Vision began to pick its way down the hill, eyeing him the +while. + +That dancing scrutiny seemed to mesmerize him. He was enchanted to +perfect stillness, but he was graciously permitted to take in the +particulars of the girl's appearance. She was dainty. Every posture of +her slight figure was of an airy grace, as light and delicate as that +of a rose tendril swaying in the wind. Even when she tripped over a +loose rock, she caught her balance again with a pretty little uplift of +the hand. As she approached, slowly, and evidently not unwilling to +allow her charms full time in which to work, Bennington could see that +her face was delicately made; but as to the details he could not judge +clearly because of her mischievous eyes. They were large and wide and +clear, and of a most peculiar colour--a purple-violet, of the shade one +sometimes finds in flowers, but only in the flowers of a deep and shady +wood. In this wonderful colour--which seemed to borrow the richness of +its hue rather from its depth than from any pigment of its own, just as +beyond soundings the ocean changes from green to blue--an hundred moods +seem to rise slowly from within, to swim visible, even though the mere +expression of her face gave no sign of them. For instance, at the +present moment her features were composed to the utmost gravity. Yet in +her eyes bubbled gaiety and fun, as successive up-swellings of a +spring; or, rather, as the riffles of sunlight and wind, or the +pictured flight of birds across a pool whose surface alone is stirred. + +Bennington realized suddenly, with overwhelming fervency, that he +preferred to slide in solitude. + +The Vision in the starched pink gingham now poised above him like a +humming-bird over a flower. From behind her back she withdrew one hand. +In the hand was the missing claim stake. + +"Is this what you are looking for?" she inquired demurely. + +The mesmeric spell broke, and Bennington was permitted to babble +incoherencies. + +She stamped her foot. + +"Is this what you're looking for?" she persisted. + +Bennington's chaos had not yet crystallized to relevancy. + +"Wh-where did you get it?" he stammered again. + +"IS THIS WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR?" she demanded in very large capitals. + +The young man regained control of his faculties with an effort. + +"Yes, it is!" he rejoined sharply; and then, with the instinct that +bids us appreciate the extent of our relief by passing an annoyance +along, "Don't you know it's a penal offence to disturb claim stakes?" + +He had suddenly discovered that he preferred to find claim stakes on +claims. + +The Vision's eyes opened wider. + +"It must be nice to know so much!" said she, in reverent admiration. + +Bennington flushed. As a de Laney, the girls he had known had always +taken him seriously. He disliked being made fun of. + +"This is nonsense," he objected, with some impatience. "I must know +where it came from." + +In the background of his consciousness still whirled the moil of his +wonder and bewilderment. He clung to the claim stake as a stable +object. + +The Vision looked straight at him without winking, and those wonderful +eyes filled with tears. Yet underneath their mist seemed to sparkle +little points of light, as wavelets through a vapour which veils the +surface of the sea. Bennington became conscious-stricken because of the +tears, and still he owned an uneasy suspicion that they were not real. + +"I'm so sorry!" she said contritely, after a moment; "I thought I was +helping you so much! I found that stake just streaking it over the top +of the hill. It had got loose and was running away." The mist had +cleared up very suddenly, and the light-tipped sparkles of fun were +chasing each other rapidly, as though impelled by a lively breeze. "I +thought you'd be ever so grateful, and, instead of that, you scold me! +I don't believe I like you a bit!" + +She looked him over reflectively, as though making up her mind. + +Bennington laughed outright, and scrambled to his feet. "You are +absolutely incorrigible!" he exclaimed, to cover his confusion at his +change of face. + +Her eyes fairly danced. + +"Oh, what a _lovely_ word!" she cried rapturously. "What _does_ it +mean? Something nice, or I'm sure you wouldn't have said it about me. +_Would_ you?" The eyes suddenly became grave. "Oh, please tell me!" she +begged appealingly. + +Bennington was thrown into confusion at this, for he did not know +whether she was serious or not. He could do nothing but stammer and get +red, and think what a ridiculous ass he was making of himself. He might +have considered the help he was getting in that. + +"Well, then, you needn't," she conceded, magnanimously, after a moment. +"Only, you ought not to say things about girls that you don't dare tell +them in plain language. If you will say nice things about me, you might +as well say them so I can understand them; only, I do think it's a +little early in our acquaintance." + +This cast Bennington still more in perplexity. He had a +pretty-well-defined notion that he was being ridiculed, but concerning +this, just a last grain of doubt remained. She rattled on. + +"Well!" said she impatiently, "why don't you say something? Why don't +you take this stick? I don't want it. Men are so stupid!" + +That last remark has been made many, many times, and yet it never fails +of its effect, which is at once to invest the speaker with daintiness +indescribable, and to thrust the man addressed into nether inferiority. +Bennington fell to its charm. He took the stake. + +"Where does it belong?" he asked. + +She pointed silently to a pile of stones. He deposited the stake in its +proper place, and returned to find her seated on the ground, plucking a +handful of the leaves of a little erect herb that grew abundantly in +the hollow. These she rubbed together and held to her face inside the +sunbonnet. + +"Who are you, anyway?" asked Bennington abruptly, as he returned. + +"D' you ever see this before?" she inquired irrelevantly, looking up +with her eyes as she leaned over the handful. "Good for colds. Makes +your nose feel all funny and prickly." + +She turned her hands over and began to drop the leaves one by one. +Bennington caught himself watching her with fascinated interest in +silence. He began to find this one of her most potent charms--the +faculty of translating into a grace so exquisite as almost to realize +the fabled poetry of motion, the least shrug of her shoulders, the +smallest crook of her finger, the slightest toss of her small, +well-balanced head. She looked up. + +"Want to smell?" she inquired, and held out her hands with a pretty +gesture. + +Not knowing what else to do, Bennington stepped forward obediently and +stooped over. The two little palms held a single crushed bit of the +herb in their cup. They were soft, pink little palms, all wrinkled, +like crumpled rose leaves. Bennington stooped to smell the herb; +instead, he kissed the palms. + +The girl sprang to her feet with one indignant motion and faced him. +The eyes now flashed blue flame, and Bennington for the first time +noticed what had escaped him before--that the forehead was broad and +thoughtful, and that above it the hair, instead of being blonde and +curly and sparkling with golden radiance, was of a peculiar wavy brown +that seemed sometimes full of light and sometimes lustreless and black, +according as it caught the direct rays of the sun or not. Then he +appreciated his offence. + +"Sir!" she exclaimed, and turned away with a haughty shoulder. + +"And we've never been introduced!" she said, half to herself, but her +face was now concealed, so that Bennington could not see she laughed. +She marched stiffly down the hill. Bennington turned to follow her, +although the action was entirely mechanical, and he had no definite +idea in doing so. + +"Don't you dare, sir!" she cried. + +So he did not dare. + +This vexed her for a moment. Then, having gone quite out of sight, she +sank down and laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks. + +"I didn't think he knew enough!" she said, with a final hysterical +chuckle. + +This first impression of the Mountain Flower, Bennington would have +been willing to acknowledge, was quite complicated enough, but he was +destined to further surprises. + +When he returned to the Holy Smoke camp he found Old Mizzou in earnest +conversation with a peculiar-looking stranger, whose hand he was +promptly requested to shake. + +The stranger was a tall, scraggly individual, dressed in the usual +flannel shirt and blue jeans, the latter tucked into rusty cowhide +boots. Bennington was interested in him because he was so phenomenally +ugly. From the collar of his shirt projected a lean, sinewy neck, on +which the too-abundant skin rolled and wrinkled in a dark red, +wind-roughened manner particularly disagreeable to behold. The neck +supported a small head. The face was wizened and tanned to a dark +mahogany colour. It was ornamented with a grizzled goatee. + +The man smoked a stub pipe. His remarks were emphasized by the gestures +of a huge and gnarled pair of hands. + +"Mr. Lawton is from Old Mizzou, too, afore he moved to Illinoy," +commented Davidson. One became aware, from the loving tones in which +he pronounced the two words, whence he derived his sobriquet. + +Lawton expressed the opinion that Chillicothe, of that State, was the +finest town on top of earth. + +Bennington presumed it might be, and then opportunely bethought him of +a bottle of Canadian Club, which, among other necessary articles, he +had brought with him from New York. This he produced. The old +Missourians brightened; Davidson went into the cabin after glasses and +a corkscrew. He found the corkscrew all right, but apparently had some +difficulty in regard to the glasses. They could hear him calling +vociferously for Mrs. Arthur. Mrs. Arthur had gone to the spring for +water. In a few moments Old Mizzou appeared in the doorway exceedingly +red of face. + +"Consarn them women folks!" he grumbled, depositing the tin cups on the +porch. "They locks up an' conceals things most damnable. Ain't a +tumbler in th' place." + +"These yar is all right," assured Lawton consolingly, picking up one of +the cups and examining the bottom of it with great care. + +"I reckon they'll hold the likker, anyhow," agreed Davidson. + +They passed the bottle politely to de Laney, and the latter helped +himself. For his part, he was glad the tin cups had been necessary, for +it enabled him to conceal the smallness of his dose. Lawton filled his +own up to the brim; Davidson followed suit. + +"Here's how!" observed the latter, and the two old turtlebacks drank +the raw whisky down, near a half pint of it, as though it had been so +much milk. + +Bennington fairly gasped with astonishment. "Don't you ever take any +water?" he asked. + +They turned slowly. Old Mizzou looked him in the eye with glimmering +reproach. + +"Not, if th' whisky's good, sonny," said he impressively. + +"Wall," commented Lawton, after a pause, "that is a good drink. Reckon +I must be goin'." + +"Stay t' grub!" urged Old Mizzou heartily. + +"Folks waitin'. Remember!" + +They looked at Bennington and chuckled a little, to that young man's +discomfort. + +"Lawton's a damn fine fella'," said Old Mizzou with emphasis. +Bennington thought, with a shudder, of the loose-skinned, turkey-red +neck, and was silent. + +After supper Bennington and Old Mizzou played cribbage by the light of +a kerosene lamp. + +"While I was hunting claims this afternoon," said the Easterner +suddenly, "I ran across a mighty pretty girl." + +"Yas?" observed Old Mizzou with indifference. "What fer a gal was it?" + +"She didn't look as if she belonged around here. She was a slender +girl, very pretty, with a pink dress on." + +"Ain't no female strangers yar-abouts. Blue eyes?" + +"Yes." + +"An' ha'r that sometimes looks black an' sometimes yaller-brown?" + +"Yes, that's the one all right. Who is she?" + +"Oh, that!" said Old Mizzou with slight interest, "that's Bill +Lawton's girl. Live's down th' gulch. He's th' fella' that was yar +afore grub," he explained. + +For a full minute Bennington stared at the cards in his hand. The +patriarch became impatient. + +"Yore play, sonny," he suggested. + +"I don't believe you know the one I mean," returned Bennington slowly. +"She's a girl with a little mouth and a nose that is tipped up just a +trifle----" + +"Snub!" interrupted Old Mizzou, with some impatience. "Yas, I knows. +Same critter. Only one like her in th' Hills. Sasshays all over th' +scenery, an' don't do nothin' but sit on rocks." + +"So she's the daughter of that man!" said Bennington, still more +slowly. + +"Wall, so Mis' Lawton sez," chuckled Mizzou. + +That night Bennington lay awake for some time. He had discovered the +Mountain Flower; the story-book West was complete at last. But he had +offended his discovery. What was the etiquette in such a case? Back +East he would have felt called upon to apologize for being rude. Then, +at the thought of apologizing to a daughter of that turkey-necked old +whisky-guzzler he had to laugh. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE SUN FAIRY + + +The next afternoon, after the day's writing and prospecting were +finished, Bennington resolved to go deer hunting. He had skipped +thirteen chapters of his work to describe the heroine, Rhoda. She had +wonderful eyes, and was, I believe, dressed in a garment whose colour +was pink. + +"Keep yore moccasins greased," Old Mizzou advised at parting; by which +he meant that the young man was to step softly. + +This he found to be difficult. His course lay along the top of the +ridge where the obstructions were many. There were outcrops, boulders, +ravines, broken twigs, old leaves, and dikes, all of which had to be +surmounted or avoided. They were all aggravating, but the dikes +possessed some intellectual interest which the others lacked. + +A dike, be it understood, is a hole in the earth made visible. That is +to say, in old days, when mountains were much loftier than they are +now, various agencies brought it to pass that they split and cracked +and yawned down to the innermost cores of their being in such hideous +fashion that chasms and holes of great depth and perpendicularity were +opened in them. Thereupon the interior fires were released, and these, +vomiting up a vast supply of molten material, filled said chasms and +holes to the very brim. The molten material cooled into fire-hardened +rock. The rains descended and the snows melted. Under their erosive +influence the original mountains were cut down somewhat, but the +erstwhile molten material, being, as we have said, fire-hardened, +wasted very little, or not at all, and, as a consequence, stands forth +above its present surroundings in exact mould of the ancient cracks or +holes. + +Now, some dikes are long and narrow, others are short and wide, and +still others are nearly round. All, however, are highest points, and, +head and shoulders above the trees, look abroad over the land. + +When Bennington came to one of these dikes he was forced to pick his +way carefully in a detour around its base. Between times he found +hobnails much inclined to click against unforeseen stones. The broken +twig came to possess other than literary importance. After a little his +nerves asserted themselves. Unconsciously he relaxed his attention and +began to think. + +The subject of his thoughts was the girl he had seen just twenty-four +hours before. He caught himself remembering little things he had not +consciously noticed at the time, as, for instance, the strange contrast +between the mischief in her eyes and the austerity of her brow, or the +queer little fashion she had of winking rapidly four or five times, and +then opening her eyes wide and looking straight into the depths of his +own. He considered it quite a coincidence that he had unconsciously +returned to the spot on which they had met the day before--the rich +Crazy Horse lode. + +As though in answer to his recognition of this fact, her voice suddenly +called to him from above. + +"Hullo, little boy!" it cried. + +He felt at once that he was pleased at the encounter. + +"Hullo!" he answered; "where are you?" + +"Right here." + +He looked up, and then still up, until, at the flat top of the +castellated dike that stood over him, he caught a gleam of pink. The +contrast between it, the blue of the sky, and the dark green of the +trees, was most beautiful and unusual. Nature rarely uses pink, except +in sunsets and in flowers. Bennington thought pleasedly how every +impression this girl made upon him was one of grace or beauty or bright +colour. The gleam of pink disappeared, and a great pine cone, heavy +with pitch, came buzzing through the air to fall at his feet. + +"That's to show you where I am," came the clear voice. "You ought to +feel honoured. I've only three cones left." + +The dike before which Bennington had paused was one of the round +variety. It rose perhaps twenty feet above the _debris_ at its base, +sheer, gray, its surface almost intact except for an insignificant +number of frost fissures. From its base the hill fell rapidly, so that, +even from his own inferior elevation, he was enabled to look over the +tops of trees standing but a few rods away from him. He could see that +the summit of this dike was probably nearly flat, and he surmised that, +once up there, one would become master of a pretty enough little +plateau on which to sit; but his careful circumvallation could discover +no possible method of ascent. The walls afforded no chance for a +squirrel's foothold even. He began to doubt whether he had guessed +aright as to the girl's whereabouts, and began carefully to examine the +tops of the trees. Discovering nothing in them, he cast another puzzled +glance at the top of the dike. A pair of violet eyes was scrutinizing +him gravely over the edge of it. + +"How in the world did you get up there?" he cried. + +"Flew," she explained, with great succinctness. + +"Look out you don't fall," he warned hastily; her attitude was +alarming. + +"I am lying flat," said she, "and I can't fall." + +"You haven't told me how you got up. I want to come up, too." + +"How do you know I want you?" + +"I have such a lot of things to say!" cried Bennington, rather at a +loss for a valid reason, but feeling the necessity keenly. + +"Well, sit down and say them. There's a big flat rock just behind you." + +This did not suit him in the least. "I wish you'd let me up," he begged +petulantly. "I can't say what I want from here." + +"I can hear you quite well. You'll have to talk from there, or else +keep still." + +"That isn't fair!" persisted the young man, adopting a tone of +argument. "You're a girl----" + +"Stop there! You are wrong to start with. Did you think that a creature +who could fly to the tops of the rocks was a mere girl? Not at all." + +"What do you mean?" asked the easily bewildered Bennington. + +"What I say. I'm not a girl." + +"What are you then?" + +"A sun fairy." + +"A sun fairy?" + +"Yes; a real live one. See that cloud over toward the sun? The nice +downy one, I mean. That's my couch. I sleep on it all night. I've got +it near the sun so that it will warm up, you see." + +"I see," cried Bennington. He could recognise foolery--provided it were +ticketed plainly enough. He sat down on the flat rock before indicated, +and clasped his knee with his hands, prepared to enjoy more. "Is that +your throne up there, Sun Fairy?" he asked. She had withdrawn her head +from sight. + +"It is," her voice came down to him in grave tones. + +"It must be a very nice one." + +"The nicest throne you ever saw." + +"I never saw one, but I've often heard that thrones were unpleasant +things." + +"I am sitting, foolish mortal," said she, in tones of deep +commiseration, "on a soft, thick cushion of moss--much more +comfortable, I imagine, than hard, flat rocks. And the nice warm sun +is shining on me--it must be rather chilly in the woods to-day. And +there is a breeze blowing from the Big Horn--old rocks are always damp +and stuffy in the shade. And I am looking away out over the Hills--I +hope some people enjoy the sight of piles of quartzite." + +"Cruel sun fairy!" cried Bennington. "Why do you tantalize me so with +the delights from which you debar me? What have I done?" + +There was a short silence. + +"Can't you think of anything you've done?" asked the voice, +insinuatingly. + +Bennington's conscience-stricken memory stirred. It did not seem so +ridiculous, under the direct charm of the fresh young voice that came +down through the summer air from above, like a dove's note from a +treetop, to apologize to Lawton's girl. The incongruity now was in +forcing into this Arcadian incident anything savouring of +conventionality at all. It had been so idyllic, this talk of the sun +fairy and the cloud; so like a passage from an old book of legends, +this dainty episode in the great, strong, Western breezes, under the +great, strong, Western sky. Everything should be perfect, not to be +blamed. + +"Do sun fairies accept apologies?" he asked presently, in a subdued +voice. + +"They might." + +"This particular sun fairy is offered one by a man who is sorry." + +"Is it a good big one?" + +"Indeed, yes." + +The head appeared over the edge of the rock, inspected him gravely for +a moment, and was withdrawn. + +"Then it is accepted," said the voice. + +"Thank you!" he replied sincerely. "And now are you going to let down +your rope ladder, or whatever it is? I really want to talk to you." + +"You are so persistent!" cried the petulant voice, "and so foolish! It +is like a man to spoil things by questionings!" + +He suddenly felt the truth of this. One can not talk every day to a sun +fairy, and the experience can never be repeated. He settled back on the +rock. + +"Pardon me, Sun Fairy!" he cried again. "Rope ladders, indeed, to one +who has but to close her eyes and she finds herself on a downy cloud +near the sun. My mortality blinded me!" + +"Now you are a nice boy," she approved more contentedly, "and as a +reward you may ask me one question." + +"All right," he agreed; and then, with instinctive tact, "What do you +see up there?" + +He could hear her clap her hands with delight, and he felt glad that he +had followed his impulse to ask just this question instead of one more +personal and more in line with his curiosity. + +"Listen!" she began. "I see pines, many pines, just the tops of them, +and they are all waving in the breeze. Did you ever see trees from on +top? They are quite different. And out from the pines come great round +hills made all of stone. I think they look like skulls. Then there are +breathless descents where the pines fall away. Once in a while a little +white road flashes out." + +"Yes," urged Bennington, as the voice paused. "And what else do you +see?" + +"I see the prairie, too," she went on half dreamily. "It is brown now, +but the green is beginning to shine through it just a very little. And +out beyond there is a sparkle. That is the Cheyenne. And beyond that +there is something white, and that is the Bad Lands." + +The voice broke off with a happy little laugh. + +Bennington saw the scene as though it lay actually spread out before +him. There was something in the choice of the words, clearcut, +decisive, and descriptive; but more in the exquisite modulations of the +voice, adding here a tint, there a shade to the picture, and casting +over the whole that poetic glamour which, rarely, is imitated in +grosser materials by Nature herself, when, just following sunset, she +suffuses the landscape with a mellow afterglow. + +The head, sunbonneted, reappeared perked inquiringly sideways. + +"Hello, stranger!" it called with a nasal inflection, "how air ye? Do +y' think minin' is goin' t' pan out well this yar spring?" Then she +caught sight of his weapon. "What are you going to shoot?" she asked +with sudden interest. + +"I thought I might see a deer." + +"Deer! hoh!" she cried in lofty scorn, reassuming her nasal tone. "You +is shore a tenderfoot! Don' you-all know that blastin' scares all th' +deer away from a minin' camp?" + +Bennington looked confused. "No, I hadn't thought of that," he +confessed stoutly enough. + +"I kind of like to shoot!" said she, a little wistfully. "What sort of +a gun is it?" + +"A Savage smokeless," answered Bennington perfunctorily. + +"One of the thirty-calibres?" inquired the sunbonnet with new interest. + +"Yes," gasped Bennington, astonished at so much feminine knowledge of +firearms. + +"Oh! I'd like to see it. I never saw any of those. May I shoot it, just +once?" + +"Of course you may. More than once. Shall I come up?" + +"No. I'll come down. You sit right still on that rock." + +The sunbonnet disappeared, and there ensued a momentary commotion on +the other side of the dike. In an instant the girl came around the +corner, picking her way over the loose blocks of stone. With the +finger-tips of either hand she held the pink starched skirt up, +displaying a neat little foot in a heavy little shoe. Diagonally across +the skirt ran two irregular brown stains. She caught him looking at +them. + +"Naughty, naughty!" said she, glancing down at them with a grimace. + +She dropped her skirt, and stood up beside him with a pretty shake of +the shoulders. + +"Now let's see it," she begged. + +She examined the weapon with much interest, throwing down and back the +lever in a manner that showed she was accustomed at least to the +old-style arm. + +"How light it is!" she commented, squinting through the sights. +"Doesn't it kick awfully?" + +"Not a bit. Smokeless powder, you know." + +"Of course. What'll we shoot at?" + +Bennington fumbled in his pockets and produced an envelope. + +"How's this?" he asked. + +She seized it and ran like an antelope--with the same _gliding_ +motion--to a tree about thirty paces distant, on which she pinned the +bit of paper. They shot. Bennington hit the paper every time. The girl +missed it once. At this she looked a little vexed. + +"You are either very rude or very sincere," was her comment. + +"You're the best shot I ever saw----" + +"Now don't dare say 'for a girl!'" she interrupted quickly. "What's the +prize?" + +"Was this a match?" + +"Of course it was, and I insist on paying up." + +Bennington considered. + +"I think I would like to go to the top of the rock there, and see the +pines, and the skull-stones, and the prairies." + +She glanced toward him, knitting her brows. "It is my very own," she +said doubtfully. "I've never let anybody go up there before." + +One of the diminutive chipmunks of the hills scampered out from a cleft +in the rocks and perched on a moss-covered log, chattering eagerly and +jerking his tail in the well-known manner of chipmunks. + +"Oh, see! see!" she cried, all excitement in a moment. She seized the +rifle, and taking careful aim, fired. The chattering ceased; the +chipmunk disappeared. + +Bennington ran to the log. Behind it lay the little animal. The long +steel-jacketed bullet had just grazed the base of its brain. He picked +it up gently in the palm of his hand and contemplated it. + +It was such a diminutive beast, not as large as a good-sized rat, quite +smaller than our own fence-corner chipmunks of the East. It's little +sides were daintily striped, its little whiskers were as perfect as +those of the great squirrels in the timber bottom. In its pouches were +the roots of pine cones. Bennington was not a sentimentalist, but the +incident, against the background of the light-hearted day, seemed to +him just a little pathetic. Something of the feeling showed in his +eyes. + +The girl, who had drawn near, looked from him to the dead chipmunk, and +back again. Then she burst suddenly into tears. + +"Oh, cruel, cruel!" she sobbed. "What did I do it for? What did you +_let_ me do it for?" + +Her distress was so keen that the young man hastened to relieve it. + +"There," he reassured her lightly, "don't do that! Why, you are a great +hunter. You got your game. And it was a splendid shot. We'll have him +skinned when we get back home, and we'll cure the skin, and you can +make something out of it--a spectacle case," he suggested at random. "I +know how you feel," he went on, to give her time to recover, "but all +hunters feel that way occasionally. See, I'll put him just here until +we get ready to go home, where nothing can get him." + +He deposited the squirrel in the cleft of a rock, quite out of sight, +and stood back as though pleased. "There, that's fine!" he concluded. + +With one of those instantaneous transitions, which seemed so natural to +her, and yet which appeared to reach not at all to her real nature, she +had changed from an aspect of passionate grief to one of solemn +inquiry. Bennington found her looking at him with the soul brimming to +the very surface of her great eyes. + +"I think you may come up on my rock," she said simply after a moment. + +They skirted the base of the dike together until they had reached the +westernmost side. There Bennington was shown the means of ascent, which +he had overlooked before because of his too close examination of the +cliff itself. At a distance of about twenty feet from the dike grew a +large pine tree, the lowest branch of which extended directly over the +little plateau and about a foot above it. Next to the large pine stood +two smaller saplings side by side and a few inches apart. These had +been converted into a ladder by the nailing across of rustic rounds. + +"That's how I get up," explained the girl. "Now you go back around the +corner again, and when I'm ready I'll call." + +Bennington obeyed. In a few moments he heard again the voice in the air +summoning him to approach and climb. + +He ascended the natural ladder easily, but when within six or eight +feet of the large branch that reached across to the dike, the smaller +of the two saplings ceased, and so, naturally, the ladder terminated. + +"Hi!" he called, "how did you get up this?" + +He looked across the intervening space expectantly, and then, to his +surprise, he observed that the girl was blushing furiously. + +"I--I," stammered a small voice after a moment's hesitation, "I guess +I--_shinned_!" + +A light broke across Bennington's mind as to the origin of the two dark +streaks on the gown, and he laughed. The girl eyed him reproachfully +for a moment or so; then she too began to laugh in an embarrassed +manner. Whereupon Bennington laughed the harder. He shinned up the +tree, to find that an ingenious hand rope had been fitted above the +bridge limb, so that the crossing of the short interval to the rock was +a matter of no great difficulty. In another instant he stood upon the +top of the dike. + +It was, as he had anticipated, nearly flat. Under the pine branch, +which might make a very good chair back, grew a thick cushion of moss. +The one tree broke the freedom of the eye's sweep toward the west, but +in all other directions it was uninterrupted. As the girl had said, the +tops of pines alone met the view, miles on miles of them, undulating, +rising, swelling, breaking against the barrier of a dike, or lapping +the foot of a great round boulder-mountain. Here and there a darker +spot suggested a break for a mountain peak; rarely a fleck of white +marked a mountain road. Back of them all--ridge, mountain, cavernous +valley--towered old Harney, sun-browned, rock-diademed, a few wisps of +cloud streaming down the wind from his brow, locks heavy with the age +of the great Manitou whom he was supposed to represent. Eastward, the +prairie like a peaceful sea. Above, the alert sky of the west. And +through all the air a humming--vast, murmurous, swelling--as the +mountain breeze touched simultaneously with strong hand the chords, not +of one, but a thousand pine harps. + +Bennington drew in a deep breath, and looked about in all directions. +The girl watched him. + +"Ah! it is beautiful!" he murmured at last with a half sigh, and looked +again. + +She seized his hand eagerly. + +"Oh, I'm so glad you said that--and no more than that!" she cried. "I +feel the sun fairy can make you welcome now." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE SPIRIT MOUNTAIN + + +"From now on," said the girl, shaking out her skirts before sitting +down, "I am going to be a mystery." + +"You are already," replied Bennington, for the first time aware that +such was the fact. + +"No fencing. I have a plain business proposition to make. You and I are +going to be great friends. I can see that now." + +"I hope so." + +"And you, being a--well, an open-minded young man" (Now what does she +mean by that? thought Bennington), "will be asking all about myself. I +am going to tell you nothing. I am going to be a mystery." + +"I'm sure----" + +"No, you're not sure of anything, young man. Now I'll tell you this: +that I am living down the gulch with my people." + +"I know--Mr. Lawton's." + +She looked at him a moment. "Exactly. If you were to walk straight +ahead--not out in the air, of course--you could see the roof of the +house. Now, after we know each other better, the natural thing for you +to do will be to come and see me at my house, won't it?" + +Bennington agreed that it would. + +"Well, you mustn't." + +Bennington expressed his astonishment. + +"I will explain a very little. In a month occurs the Pioneer's Picnic +at Rapid. You don't know what the Pioneer's Picnic is? Ignorant boy! +It's our most important event of the year. Well, until that time I am +going to try an experiment. I am going to see if--well, I'll tell you; +I am going to try an experiment on a man, and the man is you, and I'll +explain the whole thing to you after the Pioneer's Picnic, and not a +moment before. Aren't you curious?" + +"I am indeed," Bennington assured her sincerely. + +She took on a small air of tyranny. "Now understand me. I mean what I +say. If you want to see me again, you must do as I tell you. You must +take me as I am, and you must mind me." + +Bennington cast a fleeting wonder over the sublime self-confidence +which made this girl so certain he would care to see her again. Then, +with a grip at the heart, he owned that the self-confidence was well +founded. + +"All right," he assented meekly. + +"Good!" she cried, with a gleam of mischief. "Behold me! Old Bill +Lawton's gal! If you want to be pards, put her thar!" + +"And so you are a girl after all, and no sun fairy," smiled Bennington +as he "put her thar." + +"My cloud has melted," she replied quietly, pointing toward the brow of +Harney. + +They chatted of small things for a time. Bennington felt intuitively +that there was something a little strange about this girl, something a +little out of the ordinary, something he had never been conscious of in +any other girl. Yet he could never seize the impression and examine it. +It was always just escaping; just taking shape to the point of +visibility, and then melting away again; just rising in the +modulations of her voice to a murmur that the ear thought to seize as +a definite chord, and then dying into a hundred other cadences. He +tried to catch it in her eyes, where so much else was to be seen. +Sometimes he perceived its influence, but never itself. It passed as a +shadow in the lower deeps, as though the feather mass of a great sea +growth had lifted slowly on an undercurrent, and then as slowly had +sunk back to its bed, leaving but the haunting impression of something +shapeless that had darkened the hue of the waters. It was most like a +sadness that had passed. Perhaps it was merely an unconscious trick of +thought or manner. + +After a time she asked him his first name, and he told her. + +"I'd like to know your's too, Miss Lawton," he suggested. + +"I wish you wouldn't call me Miss Lawton," she cried with sudden +petulance. + +"Why, certainly not, if you don't want me to, but what am I to call +you?" + +"Do you know," she confided with a pretty little gesture, "I have +always disliked my real name. It's ugly and horrid. I've often wished +I were a heroine in a book, and then I could have a name I really +liked. Now here's a chance. I'm going to let you get up one for me, but +it must be pretty, and we'll have it all for our very own." + +"I don't quite see----" objected the still conventional de Laney. + +"Your wits, your wits, haven't you any wits at _all_?" she cried with +impatience over his unresponsiveness. + +"Well, let me see. It isn't easy to do a thing like that on the spur of +the moment, Sun Fairy. A fairy's a fay, isn't it? I might call you +Fay." + +"Fay," she repeated in a startled tone. + +Bennington remembered that this was the name of the curly-haired young +man who had lent him the bucking horse, and frowned. + +"No, I don't believe I like that," he recanted hastily. + +"Take time and think about it," she suggested. + +"I think of one that would be appropriate," he said after some little +time. "It is suggested by that little bird there. It is Phoebe." + +"Do you think it is appropriate," she objected. "A Phoebe bird or a +Phoebe girl always seemed to me to be demure and quiet and thoughtful +and sweet-voiced and fond of dim forests, while I am a frivolous, +laughing, sunny individual who likes the open air and doesn't care for +shadows at all." + +"Yet I feel it is appropriate," he insisted. He paused and went on a +little timidly in the face of his new experience in giving expression +to the more subtle feelings. "I don't know whether I can express it or +not. You are laughing and sunny, as you say, but there is something in +you like the Phoebe bird just the same. It is like those cloud +shadows." He pointed out over the mountains. Overhead a number of +summer clouds were winging their way from the west, casting on the +earth those huge irregular shadows which sweep across it so swiftly, +yet with such dignity; so rushingly, and yet so harmlessly. "The hills +are sunny and bright enough, and all at once one of the shadows crosses +them, and it is dark. Then in another moment it is bright again." + +"And do you really see that in me?" she asked curiously. "You are a +dear boy," she continued, looking at him for some moments with +reflective eyes. "It won't do though," she said, rising at last. "It's +too 'fancy.'" + +"I don't know then," he confessed with some helplessness. + +"I'll tell you what I've always _wanted_ to be called," said she, "ever +since I was a little girl. It is 'Mary.'" + +"Mary!" he cried, astonished. "Why, it is such a common name." + +"It is a beautiful name," she asserted. "Say it over. Aren't the +syllables soft and musical and caressing? It is a lovely name. Why I +remember," she went on vivaciously, "a girl who was named Mary, and who +didn't like it. When she came to our school she changed it, but she +didn't dare to break it to the family all at once. The first letter +home she signed herself 'Mae.' Her father wrote back, 'My dear +daughter, if the name of the mother of Jesus isn't good enough for you, +come home.'" She laughed at the recollection. + +"Then you have been away to school?" asked the young man. + +"Yes," she replied shortly. + +She adroitly led him to talk of himself. He told her naively of New +York and tennis, of brake parties and clubs, and even afternoon teas +and balls, all of which, of course, interested a Western girl +exceedingly. In this it so happened that his immaturity showed more +plainly than before. He did not boast openly, but he introduced +extraneous details important in themselves. He mentioned knowing +Pennington the painter, and Brookes the writer, merely in a casual +fashion, but with just the faintest flourish. It somehow became known +that his family had a crest, that his position was high; in short, that +he was a de Laney on both sides. He liked to tell it to this girl, +because it was evidently fresh and new to her, and because in the +presence of her inexperience in these matters he gained a confidence in +himself which he had never dared assume before. + +She looked straight in front of her and listened, throwing in a +comment now and then to assist the stream of his talk. At last, when he +fell silent, she reached swiftly out and patted his cheek with her +hand. + +"You are a dear big _boy_," she said quietly. "But I like it--oh, so +much!" + +From the tree tops below the clear warble of the purple finch +proclaimed that under the fronds twilight had fallen. The vast green +surface of the hills was streaked here and there with irregular peaks +of darkness dwindling eastward. The sun was nearly down. + +A sudden gloom blotted out the fretwork of the pine shadows that had, +during the latter part of the afternoon, lain athwart the rock. They +looked up startled. + +The shadow of Harney had crept out to them, and, even as they looked, +it stole on, cat-like, across the lower ridges toward the East. One +after another the rounded hills changed hue as it crossed them. For a +moment it lingered in the tangle of woods at the outermost edge, and +then without further pause glided out over the prairie. They watched it +fascinated. The sparkle was quenched in the Cheyenne; the white gleam +of the Bad Lands became a dull gray, scarce distinguishable from the +gray of the twilight. Though a single mysterious cleft a long yellow +bar pointed down across the plains, paused at the horizon, and slowly +lifted into the air. The mountain shadow followed it steadily up into +the sky, growing and growing against the dullness of the east, until at +last over against them in the heavens was the huge phantom of a +mountain, infinitely greater, infinitely grander than any mountain ever +seen by mortal eyes, and lifting higher and higher, commanded upward by +that single wand of golden light. Then suddenly the wand was withdrawn +and the ghost mountain merged into the yellow afterglow of evening. + +The girl had watched it breathless. At its dissolution she seized the +young man excitedly by the arm. + +"The Spirit Mountain!" she cried. "I have never seen it before; and now +I see it--with you." + +She looked at him with startled eyes. + +"With you," she repeated. + +"What is it? I don't understand." + +She did not seem to hear his question. + +"What is it?" he asked again. + +"Why--nothing." She caught her breath and recovered command of herself +somewhat. "That is, it is just an old legend that I have often heard, +and it startled me for a minute." + +"Will you tell me the legend?" + +"Not now; some time. We must go now, for it will soon be dark." + +They wandered along the ridge toward Deerfoot Gulch in silence. She had +taken her sunbonnet off, and was enjoying the cool of the evening. He +carried the rifle over the crook of his arm, and watched her pensive +face. The poor little chipmunk lay stiffening in the cleft of the rock, +forgotten. The next morning a prying jay discovered him and carried him +away. He was only a little chipmunk after all--a very little +chipmunk--and nobody and nothing missed him in all the wide world, not +even his mate and his young, for mercifully grief in the animal world +is generally short-lived where tragedies are frequent. His life meant +little. His death---- + +At the dip of the gulch they paused. + +"I live just down there," she said, "and now, good-night." + +"Mayn't I take you home?" + +"Remember your promise." + +"Oh, very well." + +She looked at him seriously. "I am going to ask you to do what I have +never asked any man before," she said slowly--"to meet me. I want you +to come to the rock to-morrow afternoon. I want to hear more about New +York." + +"Of course I'll come," he agreed delightedly. "I feel as if I had known +you years already." + +They said good-bye. She walked a few steps irresolutely down the +hillside, and then, with a sudden impulsive movement, returned. She +lifted her face gravely, searchingly to his. + +"I like you," said she earnestly. "You have kind eyes," and was gone +down through the graceful alder saplings. + +Bennington stood and watched the swaying of the leaf tops that marked +her progress until she emerged into the lower gulch. There she turned +and looked back toward the ridge, but apparently could not see him, +though he waved his hand. The next instant Jim Fay strolled into the +"park" from the direction of Lawton's cabin. Bennington saw her spring +to meet him, holding out both hands, and then the two strolled back +down the gulch talking earnestly, their heads close together. + +Why should he care? "Mary, Mary, Mary!" he cried within himself as he +hurried home. And in remote burial grounds the ancient de Laneys on +both sides turned over in their lead-lined coffins. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +BENNINGTON AS A MAN OF BUSINESS + + +That evening Old Mizzou returned from town with a watery eye and a mind +that ran to horses. + +"He is shore a fine cayuse," he asserted with extreme impressiveness. +"He is one of them broncs you jest _loves_. An' he's jes 's cheap! I +likes you a lot, sonny; I deems you as a face-card shore, an' ef any +one ever tries fer to climb yore hump, you jest calls on pore Old +Mizzou an' he mingles in them troubles immediate. You must have that +cayuse an' go scoutin' in th' hills, yo' shore must! Ol' man +Davidson'll do th' work fer ye, but ye shore must scout. 'Taint healthy +not t' git exercise on a cayuse. It shorely ain't! An' you must git t' +know these yar hills, you must. They is beautiful an' picturesque, and +is full of scenery. When you goes back East, you wants to know all +about 'em. I wouldn't hev you go back East without knowin' all about +'em for anythin' in the worl', I likes ye thet much!" + +Old Mizzou paused to wipe away a sympathetic tear with a rather +uncertain hand. + +"Y' wants to start right off too, thet's th' worst of it, so's t' see +'em all afore you goes, 'cause they is lots of hills and I'm 'feared +you won't stay long, sonny; I am that! I has my ideas these yar claims +is no good, I has fer a fact, and they won't need no one here long, and +then we'll lose ye, sonny, so you mus' shore hev that cayuse." + +Old Mizzou rambled on in like fashion most of the evening, to +Bennington's great amusement, and, though next morning he was quite +himself again, he still clung to the idea that Bennington should +examine the pony. + +"He is a fine bronc, fer shore," he claimed, "an' you'd better git +arter him afore some one else gits him." + +As Bennington had for some time tentatively revolved in his mind the +desirability of something to ride, this struck him as being a good +idea. All Westerners had horses--in the books. So he abandoned +_Aliris: A Romance of all Time_, for the morning, and drove down to +Spanish Gulch with Old Mizzou. + +He was mentally braced for devilment, but his arch-enemy, Fay, was not +in sight. To his surprise, he got to the post office quite without +molestation. There he was handed two letters. One was from his parents. +The other, his first business document, proved to be from the mining +capitalist. The latter he found to inclose separate drafts for various +amounts in favour of six men. Bishop wrote that the young man was to +hand these drafts to their owners, and to take receipts for the amounts +of each. He promised a further installment in a few weeks. + +Bennington felt very important. He looked the letter all over again, +and examined the envelope idly. The Spanish Gulch postmark bore date of +the day before. + +"That's funny," said Bennington to himself. "I wonder why Mizzou didn't +bring it up with him last night?" Then he remembered the old man's +watery eye and laughed. "I guess I know," he thought. + +The next thing was to find the men named in the letter. He did not know +them from Adam. Mizzou saw no difficulty, however, when the matter was +laid before him. + +"They're in th' Straight Flush!" he asserted positively. + +This was astounding. How should Old Mizzou know that? + +"I don't exactly know," the old man explained this discrepancy, "but +they generally is!" + +"Don't they ever work?" + +"Work's purty slack," crawfished Davidson. "But I tells you I don't +_know_. We has to find out," and he shuffled away toward the saloon. + +Anybody but Bennington would have suspected something. There was the +delayed letter, the supernatural knowledge of Old Mizzou, the absence +of Fay. Even the Easterner might have been puzzled to account for the +crowded condition of the Straight Flush at ten in the morning, if his +attention had not been quite fully occupied in posing before himself as +the man of business. + +When Mizzou and his companion entered the room, the hum of talk died, +and every one turned expectantly in the direction of the newcomers. + +"Gents," said Old Mizzou, "this is Mr. de Laney, th' new sup'rintendent +of th' Holy Smoke. Mr. de Laney, gents!" + +There was a nodding of heads. + +Every one looked eagerly expectant. The man behind the bar turned back +his cuffs. De Laney, feeling himself the centre of observation, grew +nervous. He drew from his pocket Bishop's letter, and read out the five +names. "I'd like to see those men," he said. + +The men designated came forward. After a moment's conversation, the six +adjourned to the hotel, where paper and ink could be procured. + +After their exit a silence fell, and the miners looked at each other +with ludicrous faces. + +"An' he never asked us to take a drink!" exclaimed one sorrowfully. +"That settles it. It may not be fer th' good of th' camp, Jim Fay, but +I reckons it ain't much fer th' harm of it. I goes you." + +"Me to," "and me," "and me," shouted other voices. + +Fay leaped on the bar and spread his arms abroad. + +"Speech! Speech!" they cried. + +"Gentlemen of the great and glorious West!" he began. "It rejoices me +to observe this spirit animating your bosoms. Trampling down the finer +feelings that you all possess to such an unlimited degree, putting +aside all thought of merely material prosperity, you are now prepared, +at whatever cost, to ally yourselves with that higher poetic justice +which is above barter, above mere expediency, above even the ordinary +this-for-that fairness which often passes as justice among the effete +and unenlightened savages of the East. Gentlemen of the great and +glorious West, I congratulate you!" + +The miners stood close around the bar. Every man's face bore a broad +grin. At this point they interrupted with howls and cat-calls of +applause. "Ain't he a _peach_!" said one to another, and composed +himself again to listen. At the conclusion of a long harangue they +yelled enthusiastically, and immediately began the more informal +discussion of what was evidently a popular proposition. When the five +who had been paid off returned, everybody had a drink, while the +newcomers were made acquainted with the subject. Old Mizzou, who had +listened silently but with a twinkle in his eye, went to hunt up +Bennington. + +They examined the horse together. The owner named thirty dollars as his +price. Old Mizzou said this was cheap. It was not. Bennington agreed to +take the animal on trial for a day or two, so they hitched a lariat +around its neck and led it over to the wagon. After despatching a few +errands they returned to camp. Bennington got out his ledger and +journal and made entries importantly. Old Mizzou disappeared in the +direction of the corral, where he was joined presently by the man +Arthur. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE MEETING AT THE ROCK + + +On his way to keep the appointment of the afternoon, Bennington de +Laney discovered within himself a new psychological experience. He +found that, since the evening before, he had been observing things +about him for the purpose of detailing them to his new friend. Little +beauties of nature--as when a strange bird shone for an instant in +vivid contrast to the mountain laurel near his window; an unusual +effect of pine silhouettes near the sky; a weird, semi-poetic +suggestion of one of Poe's stories implied in a contorted shadow cast +by a gnarled little oak in the light of the moon--these he had noticed +and remembered, and was now eager to tell his companion, with full +assurance of her sympathy and understanding. Three days earlier he +would have passed them by. + +But stranger still was his discovery that he had _always_ noticed such +things, and had remembered them. Observations of the sort had +heretofore been quite unconscious. Without knowing it he had always +been a Nature lover, one who appreciated the poetry of her moods, one +who saw the beauty of her smiles, or, what is more rare, the greater +beauty of her frown. The influence had entered into his being, but had +lain neglected. Now it stole forth as the odour of a dried balsam bough +steals from the corner of a loft whither it has been thrown carelessly. +It was all delightful and new, and he wanted to tell her of it. + +He did so. After a little he told her about _Aliris: A Romance of all +Time_, in which she appeared so interested that he detailed the main +idea and the plot. At her request, he promised to read it to her. He +was very young, you see, and very inexperienced; he threw himself +generously, without reserve, on this girl's sympathies in a manner of +which, assuredly, he should have been quite ashamed. Only the very +young are not ashamed. + +The girl listened, at first half amused. Then she was touched, for she +saw that it was sincere, and youthful, and indicative of clear faith +in what is beautiful, and in fine ideals of what is fitting. Perhaps, +dimly, she perceived that this is good stuff of which to make a man, +provided it springs from immaturity, and not from the sentimentalism of +degeneracy. The loss of it is a price we pay for wisdom. Some think the +price too high. + +As he talked on in this moonshiny way, really believing his ridiculous +abstractions the most important things in the world, gradually she too +became young. She listened with parted lips, and in her great eyes the +soul rose and rose within, clearing away the surface moods as twilight +clears the land of everything but peace. + +He was telling of the East again with a certain felicity of +expression--have we not said he had the gift of words?--and an abandon +of sentiment which showed how thoroughly he confided in the sympathy of +his listener. When we are young we are apt to confide in the sympathy +of every listener, and so we make fools of ourselves, and it takes us a +long time to live down our reputations. As we grow older, we believe +less and less in its reality. Perhaps by and by we do not trust to +anybody's sympathy, not even our own. + +"We have an old country place," he was saying; "it belonged to my +grandfather. My grandfather came by it when the little town was very +small indeed, so he built an old-fashioned stone house and surrounded +it with large grounds." He was seeing the stone house and the large +grounds with that new inner observation which he had just discovered, +and he was trying to the best of his ability to tell what he saw. After +a little he spoke more rhythmically. Many might have thought he spoke +sentimentally, because with feeling; but in reality he was merely +trying with great earnestness for expression. A jarring word would have +brought him back to his everyday mood, but for the time being he was +wrapt in what he saw. This is a condition which all writers, and some +lovers, will recognise. "Now the place is empty--except in +summer--except that we have an old woman who lives tucked away in one +corner of it. I lived there one summer just after I finished college. +Outside my window there was an apple tree that just brushed against +the ledge; there were rose vines, the climbing sort, on the wall; and +then, too, there was a hickory tree that towered 'way over the roof. In +the front yard is what is known all over town as the 'big tree,' a +silver maple, at least twice as tall as the house. It is so broad that +its shade falls over the whole front of the place. In the back is an +orchard of old apple trees, and trellises of big blue grapes. On one +side is a broad lawn, at the back of which is one of the good +old-fashioned flower gardens that does one good to look at. There are +little pink primroses dotting the sod, sweet-william, lavender, +nasturtiums, sweet peas, hollyhocks, bachelor's buttons, portulaca, and +a row of tall sunflowers, the delight of a sleepy colony of hens. I +learned all the flowers that summer." He clasped his hands comfortably +back of his head and looked at her. She was gazing out over the Bad +Lands to the East. "In the very centre, as a sort of protecting nurse +to all the littler flowers," he went on, "is a big lilac bush, and +there the bees and humming birds are thick on a warm spring day. There +are plenty of birds too, but I didn't know so many of them. They +nested everywhere--in the 'big tree,' the orchard, the evergreens, the +hedges, and in the long row of maple trees with trunks as big as a +barrel and limbs that touch across the street." + +"It must be beautiful!" said the girl quietly without looking around. + +Then he began to "suppose." This, as every woman knows, is dangerous +business. + +"It _was_ beautiful," said he. "I can't tell you about it. The words +don't seem to fit some way. I wish you could see it for yourself. I +know you'd enjoy it. I always wanted some one with me to enjoy it too. +Suppose some way we were placed so we could watch the year go by in +those deep windows. First there is the spring and the birds and the +flowers, all of which I've been talking about. Then there is the +summer, when the shades are drawn, when the shadows of the roses wave +slowly across the curtains, when the air outside quivers with heat, and +the air inside tastes like a draught of cool water. All the bird songs +are stilled except that one little fellow still warbles, swaying in +the breeze on the tiptop of the 'big tree,' his notes sliding down the +long sunbeams like beads on a golden thread. Then we would read +together, in the half-darkened 'parlour,' something not very deep, but +beautiful, like Hawthorne's stories; or we would together seek for +these perfect lines of poetry which haunt the memory. In the evening we +would go out to hear the crickets and the tree toads, to see the night +breeze toss the leaves across the calm face of the moon, to be silenced +in spirit by the peace of the stars. Then the autumn would come. We +would taste the 'Concords' and the little red grapes and the big red +grapes. We would take our choice of the yellow sweetings, the hard +white snow apples, or the little red-cheeked fellows from the west +tree. And then, of course, there are the russets! Then there are the +pears, and all the hickory nuts which rattle down on us every time the +wind blows. The leaves are everywhere. We would rake them up into big +piles, and jump into them, and 'swish' about in them. How bracing the +air is! How silvery the sun! How red your cheeks would get! And think +of the bonfires!" + +"And in winter?" murmured the girl. Her eyes were shining. + +"In the winter the wind would howl through the 'big tree,' and +everything would be bleak and cold out doors. We would be inside, of +course, and we would sit on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, +while the evening passed by, watching the 'geese in the chimney' flying +slowly away." + +"'Suppose' some more," she begged dreamily. "I love it. It rests me." + +She clasped her hands back of her head and closed her eyes. + +The young man looked quietly about him. + +"This is a wild and beautiful country," said he, "but it lacks +something. I think it is the soul. The little wood lots of the East +have so much of it." He paused in surprise at his own thoughts. His +only experiences in the woods East had been when out picnicking, or +berrying, and he had never noticed these things. "I don't know as I +ever thought of it there," he went on slowly, as though trying to be +honest with her, "but here it comes to me somehow or another." A little +fly-catcher shot up from the frond below, poised a moment, and dropped +back with closed wings. + +"Do you know the birds?" she asked. + +"I'm afraid not," he admitted; "I don't really _know_ much about +Nature, but I love it, and I'm going to learn more. I know only the +very common birds, and one other. Did you ever hear the hermit thrush +sing?" + +"Never." + +"Oh!" he cried in sudden enthusiasm, "then there is another 'suppose' +for us, the best of all." + +"I love the dear old house!" she objected doubtfully. + +"But the hermit thrush is better. The old country minister took me to +hear him one Sunday afternoon and I shall never forget it." + +She glanced at his animated face through half-closed eyes. + +"Tell me," she urged softly. + +"'Suppose' we were back East," he began, "and in the country, just +about this time of year. We would wait until the afternoon--why! just +about this time, when the sun is getting low. We would push through the +bushes at the edge of the woods where the little tinkling birds sing in +the fence corners, and would enter the deep high woods where the trees +are tall and still. The moss is thick and soft in there, and there are +little pools lying calm and dark, and there is a kind of a _hush_ in +the air--not silence, you know, but like when a big crowd of people are +keeping still. And then we would walk very carefully, and speak low, +and we would sit by the side of a fallen log and wait. After a while +the thrush would sing, a deep note, with a thrill in it, like a bell +slow and solemn. When you hear it you too feel a thrill as though you +had heard a great and noble thought. Why, it is almost _holy_!" + +He turned to the girl. She was looking at him. + +"Why, hullo!" he exclaimed, "what's the matter?" + +Her eyes were brimming with tears. + +"Nothing," she said. "I never heard a man talk as you have been +talking, that is all. The rest of them are cynical and hard and cold. +They would be ashamed to say the things you have said. No, no!" she +cried, laying her hand on his arm as he made a little uneasy movement, +"do not misunderstand me. I like it. I love it. It does me good. I had +lost faith. It is not nice to know the other kind--well." + +"You speak bitterly," he expostulated. + +She laughed. "It is a common experience enough. Pray that you may never +know it. I began as a little child, loving and trusting every one, and +giving my full free heart and confidence to every one who offered his +best to me. All I can say is, that I am thankful for you that you have +escaped the suffering such blind trust leads to." + +She laughed again, bitterly, and threw her arms out. + +"I suppose I shall go on trusting people forever. It's in my nature, +and I can't help it." + +"I hope you will feel you can trust me," said he, troubled at this +passion so much beyond his experience. "I would do anything for you." + +"Do! do!" she cried with contempt. "Yes. Any number of people will _do_ +anything for me. I want some one to _be_ for me!" + +"I'm so sorry!" he said simply, but with great feeling. + +"Don't pity me, don't believe in me!" she cried suddenly in a passion. +"I am not worth it. I am cruel and hard and cold, and I'll never care +for anybody in any way. My nature has been hardened. I _can't_ be good. +I can't care for people. I _can't_ think of giving way to it. It +frightens me." + +She burst into sudden tears and sobbed convulsively. In a moment she +became calm. Then she took her hands from her eyes and smiled. In the +distress of his sympathy Bennington thought he had never seen anything +more beautiful than this breaking forth of the light. + +"You must think I am a very peculiar young person," she said, "but I +told you I was a mystery. I am a little tired to-day, that's all." + +The conversation took a lighter tone and ran on the subject of the new +horse. She was much interested, inquiring of his colour, his size, his +gaits, whether he had been tried. + +"I'll tell you what we will do," she suggested; "we'll go on an +expedition some day. I have a pony too. We will fill up our saddlebags +and cook our own dinner. I know a nice little place over toward Blue +Lead." + +"I've one suggestion to add," put in Bennington, "and that is, that we +go to-morrow." + +She looked a trifle doubtful. + +"I don't know. Aren't we seeing a good deal of each other?" + +"Oh, if it is going to bore you, by all means put it off!" cried +Bennington in genuine alarm. + +She laughed contentedly over his way of looking at it. "I'm not tired +then, so please you; and when I am, I'll let you know. To-morrow it +is." + +"Shall I come after you? What time shall I start?" + +"No, I'd rather meet you somewhere. Let's see. You watch for me, and +I'll ride by in the lower gulch about nine o'clock." + +"Very well. By the way, the band's going to practise in town to-night. +Don't you want to go?" + +"I'd like to, but I promised Jim I'd go with him." + +"Jim?" + +"Jim Fay." + +Bennington felt this as a discordant note. + +"Do you know him very well?" he asked jealously. + +"He's my best friend. I like him very much. He is a fine fellow. You +must meet him." + +"I've met him," said Bennington shortly. + +"Now you must go," she commanded, after a pause. "I want to stay here +for a while." "No," as he opened his mouth to object. "I mean it! +Please be good!" + +After he had gone she sat still until sundown. Once she shook her +shoulders impatiently. "It is _silly_!" she assured herself. As before, +the shadow of Harney crept out to the horizon's edge. There it +stopped. Twilight fell. + +"No Spirit Mountain to-night," she murmured wistfully at last. "Almost +do I believe in the old legend." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AN ADVENTURE IN THE NIGHT + + +After supper that night Bennington found himself unaccountably alone in +camp. Old Mizzou had wandered off up the gulch. Arthur had wandered off +down the gulch. The woman had locked herself in her cabin. + +So, having nothing else to do, he got out the manuscript of _Aliris: A +Romance of all Time_, and read it through carefully from the beginning. +To his surprise he found it very poor. Its language was felicitous in +some spots, but stilted in most; the erudition was pedantic, and +dragged in by the ears; the action was idiotic; and the proportions +were padded until they no longer existed as proportions. He was +astounded. He began to see that he had misconceived the whole treatment +of it. It would have to be written all over again, with the love story +as the ruling _motif_. He felt very capable of doing the love story. +He drew some paper toward him and began to write. + +You see he was already developing. Every time a writer is made to +appreciate that his work is poor he has taken a step in advance of it. +Although he did not know that was the reason of it, Bennington +perceived the deficiencies of _Aliris_, because he had promised to read +it to the girl. He saw it through her eyes. + +The young man became absorbed in redescribing the heroine with violet +eyes. A sudden slamming of the door behind him brought him, startled, +to his feet. He laughed, and was about to sit down again, but noticed +that the door had remained open. He arose to shut it. Over the trunks +of the nearer pines played a strange flickering light, throwing them +now into relief, now into shadow. "Strange!" murmured Bennington to +himself, and stepped outside to investigate. As he crossed the sill he +was seized on either side. + +He cried out and struggled blindly, but was held as in a vice. His +captors, whom he dimly perceived to be large men in masks, whirled him +sharply to the left, and he found himself face to face with a third +man, also masked. Beyond him were a score or so more, some of whom bore +pine torches, which, partly blazing and partly smoking, served to cast +the weird light he had seen flickering on the tree trunks. Perfect +silence reigned. The man with whom Bennington was fronted eyed him +gravely through the holes in his mask. + +"I'd like to know what this means?" broke out the Easterner angrily. + +The men did not reply. They stood motionless, as silent as the night. +In spite of his indignation, the young man was impressed. He twisted +his shoulders again. The men at either arm never tightened a muscle to +resist, and yet he was held beyond the possibility of escape. + +"What's the matter? What're you trying to do? Take your hands off me!" +he cried. + +Again the silence fell. + +Then at the end of what seemed to the Easterner a full minute the +masked figure in front spoke. + +"Thar is them that thinks as how it ain't noways needful thet ye +knows," it said in slow and solemn accents, "but by the mercy of th' +others we gives y' thet much satisfaction." + +"You comes hyar from a great corp'ration thet in times gone by we +thinks is public spirited an' enterprisin', which is a mistake. You +pays th' debt of said corp'ration, so they sez, an' tharfore we +welcomes you to our bosom cordial. What happens? You insults us by +paying such low-down ornary cusses as Snowie. Th' camp is just. She +arises an' avenges said insult by stringin' of you up all right an' +proper. We gives you five minutes to get ready." + +"What do you mean?" + +"We hangs you in five minutes." + +The slow, even voice ceased, and again the silence was broken only by +the occasional bursting crackle of a blister in the pine torches. +Bennington tried to realize the situation. It had all come about so +suddenly. + +"I guess you've got the joke on me, boys," he ventured with a nervous +little laugh. And then his voice died away against the stony +immobility of the man opposite as laughter sinks to nothing against +the horror of a great darkness. Bennington began to feel impressed in +earnest. Across his mind crept doubts as to the outcome. He almost +screamed aloud as some one stole up behind and dropped over his throat +the soft cold coil of a lariat. Then, at a signal from the chief, the +two men haled him away. + +They stopped beneath a gnarled oak halfway down the slope to the gulch +bottom, from which protruded, like a long witch arm, a single withered +branch. Over this the unseen threw the end of the lariat. Bennington +faced the expressionless gaze of twenty masks, on which the torchlight +threw Strong black shadows. Directly in front of him the leader posted +himself, watch in hand. + +"Any last requests?" he inquired in his measured tones. + +Bennington felt the need of thinking quickly, but, being unused to +emergencies, he could not. + +"Anywhar y' want yore stuff sent?" the other pursued relentlessly. + +Bennington swallowed, and found his voice at last. + +"Now be reasonable," he pleaded. "It isn't going to do you any good to +hang me. I didn't mean to make any distinctions. I just paid the oldest +debts, that's all. You'll all get paid. There'll be some more money +after a while, and then I can pay some more of you. If you kill me, you +won't get any at all." + +"Won't get any any way," some one muttered audibly from the crowd. + +The man with the watch never stirred. + +"Two minutes more," he said simply. + +One of the men, who had been holding the young man's arms, had fallen +back into the crowd when the lariat was thrown over the oak limb. +During the short colloquy just detailed, the attention of the other had +become somewhat distracted. Bennington wrenched himself free, and +struck this man full in the face. + +He had never in his well-ordered life hit in anger, but behind this +blow was desperation, and the weight of a young and active body. The +man went down. Bennington seized the lariat with both hands and tried +to wrench it over his head. + +The individual who had done all the talking leaped forward toward him, +and dodging a hastily aimed blow, seized him about the waist and threw +him neatly to the ground. Bennington struggled furiously and silently. +The other had great difficulty in holding him down. + +"Come here, some of you fellows," he cried, panting and laughing a +little. "Tie his hands, for the love of Heaven." + +In another moment the Easterner, his arms securely pinioned, stood as +before. He was breathing hard and the short struggle had heated his +blood through and through. Bunker Hill had waked up. He set his teeth, +resolving that they should not get another word out of him. + +The timekeeper raised one hand warningly. Over his shoulder Bennington +dimly saw a tall muscular figure, tense with the expectation of effort, +lean forward to the slack of the lariat. He stared back to the front. + +The leader raised his pistol to give the signal. Bennington shut his +eyes. Then ensued a pause and a murmuring of low voices. Bennington +looked, and, to his surprise, perceived Lawton's girl in earnest +expostulation with the leader of the band. As he listened their voices +rose, so he caught snatches of their talk. + +"Confound it all!" objected the man in exasperated tones, "you don't +play fair. That wasn't the agreement at all." + +"Agreement or no agreement, this thing's gone far enough," she rejoined +sharply. "I've watched the whole performance, and I've been expecting +for the last ten minutes you'd have sense enough to quit." + +The voices died to a murmuring. Once the girl stamped her foot, and +once the man spread his hands out in deprecation. The maskers grouped +about in silent enjoyment of the scene. At last the discussion +terminated. + +"It's all up, boys," cried the man savagely, tearing off his mask. To +Bennington's vast surprise, the features of Jim Fay were discovered. He +approached and began sullenly to undo the young man's pinioned arms. +The others rolled up their masks and put them in their pockets. They +laughed to each other consumedly. The tall man approached, rubbing his +jaw. + +"You hits hard, sonny," said he, "and you don't go down in yore +boots[A] a little bit." + +The group began to break up and move down the gulch, most of the men +shouting out a good-natured word or so of farewell. Bennington, +recovering from his daze at the rapid passage of these events, stepped +forward to where Fay and the girl had resumed their discussion. He saw +that the young miner had recovered his habitual tone of raillery, and +that the girl was now looking up at him with eyes full of deprecation. + +"Miss Lawton," said Bennington with formality, "I hope you will allow +me, after your great kindness, to see that you get down the gulch +safely." + +Fay cut in before the girl could reply. + +"Don't bother about that, de Laney," said he, in a most cavalier +fashion. "I'll see to it." + +"I did not address you, sir!" returned Bennington coldly. The +Westerner's eyes twinkled with amusement. The girl interrupted. + +"Thank you very much, Mr. de Laney, but Mr. Fay is right--I wouldn't +trouble you." Her eyes commanded Fay, and he moved a little apart. + +"Don't be angry," she pleaded hurriedly, in an undertone, "but it's +better that way to-night. And I think you acted grandly." + +"You are the one who acted grandly," he replied, a little mollified. +"How can I ever thank you? You came just in time." + +She laughed. + +"You're not angry, are you?" she coaxed. + +"No, of course not; what right have I to be?" + +"I don't like that--quite--but I suppose it will do. You'll be there +to-morrow?" + +"You know I will." + +"Then good-night." She gave his folded arm a hasty pat and ran on down +the hill after Fay, who had gone on. Bennington saw her seize his +shoulders, as she overtook him, and give them a severe shake. + +The light of the torches down the gulch wavered and disappeared. +Bennington returned to his room. On the table lay his manuscript, and +the ink was hardly dried on the last word of it. Outside a poor-will +began to utter its weird call. The candle before him sputtered, and +burned again with a clear flame. + +[Footnote A: Western--to become frightened.] + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE HEAVENS OPENED + + +Bennington awoke early the next morning, a pleased glow of anticipation +warming his heart, and almost before his eyes were opened he had raised +himself to leap out of the bunk. Then with a disappointed sigh he sank +back. On the roof fell the heavy patter of raindrops. + +After a time he arose and pulled aside the curtains of a window. The +nearer world was dripping; the farther world was hidden or obscured by +long veils of rain, driven in ragged clouds before a west wind. +Yesterday the leaves had waved lightly, the undergrowth of shrubs had +uplifted in feathery airiness of texture, the ground beneath had been +crisp and aromatic with pine needles. Now everything bore a drooping, +sodden aspect which spoke rather of decay than of the life of spring. +Even the chickens had wisely remained indoors, with the exception of a +single bedraggled old rooster, whose melancholy appearance added +another shade of gloom to the dismal outlook. The wind twisted his long +tail feathers from side to side so energetically that, even as +Bennington looked, the poor fowl, perforce, had to scud, careened from +one side to the other, like a heavily-laden craft, into the shelter of +his coop. The wind, left to its own devices, skittered across +cold-looking little pools of water, and tried in vain to induce the +soaked leaves of the autumn before to essay an aerial flight. + +The rain hit the roof now in heavy gusts as though some one had dashed +it from a pail. The wind whistled through a loosened shingle and +rattled around an ill-made joint. Within the house itself some slight +sounds of preparation for breakfast sounded the clearer against the +turmoil outside. And then Bennington became conscious that for some +time he had _felt_ another sound underneath all the rest. It was grand +and organlike in tone, resembling the roar of surf on a sand beach as +much as anything else. He looked out again, and saw that it was the +wind in the trees. The same conditions that had before touched the harp +murmur of a stiller day now struck out a rush and roar almost +awe-inspiring in its volume. Bennington impulsively threw open the +window and leaned out. + +The great hill back of the camp was so steep that the pines growing on +its slope offered to the breeze an almost perpendicular screen of +branches. Instead of one, or at most a dozen trees, the wind here +passed through a thousand at once. As a consequence, the stir of air +that in a level woodland would arouse but a faint whisper, here would +pass with a rustling murmur; a murmur would be magnified into a noise +as of the mellow falling of waters; and now that the storm had +awakened, the hill caught up its cry with a howl so awful and sustained +that, as the open window let in the full volume of its blast, +Bennington involuntarily drew back. He closed the sash and turned to +dress. + +After the first disappointment, strange to say, Bennington became quite +resigned. He had felt, a little illogically, that this giving of a +whole day to the picnic was not quite the thing. His Puritan conscience +impressed him with the sacredness of work. He settled down to the fact +of the rainstorm with a pleasant recognition of its inevitability, and +a resolve to improve his time. + +To that end, after breakfast, he drew on a pair of fleece-lined +slippers, donned a sweater, occupied two chairs in the well-known +fashion, and attacked with energy the pages of Le Conte's _Geology_. +This book, as you very well know, discourses at first with great +interest concerning erosions. Among other things it convinces you that +a current of water, being doubled in swiftness, can transport a mass +sixty-four times as heavy as when it ran half as fast. This astounding +proposition is abstrusely proved. As Bennington had resolved not to +make his reading mere recreation, he drew diagrams conscientiously +until he understood it. Then he passed on to an earnest consideration +of why the revolution of the globe and the resistance of continents +cause oceanic currents of a particular direction and velocity. Besides +this, there was much easier reading concerning alluvial deposits. So +interested did he grow that Old Mizzou, coming in, muddy-hoofed and +glistening from a round of the stock, found him quite unapproachable on +the subject of cribbage. The patriarch then stumped over to Arthur's +cabin. + +After dinner, Bennington picked up the book again, but found that his +brain had reached the limit of spontaneous mental effort. He looked for +Old Mizzou and the cribbage game. The miner had gone to visit Arthur +again. Bennington wandered about disconsolately. + +For a time he drummed idly on the window pane. Then he took out his +revolver and tried to practise through the open doorway. The smoke from +the discharges hung heavy in the damp air, filling the room in a most +disagreeable fashion. Bennington's trips to see the effect of his shots +proved to him the fiendish propensity of everything he touched, were it +never so lightly, to sprinkle him with cold water. Above all, his skill +with the weapon was not great enough as yet to make it much fun. He +abandoned pistol shooting and yawned extensively, wishing it were time +to go to bed. + +In the evening he played cribbage with Old Mizzou. After a time Arthur +and his wife came in and they had a dreary game of "cinch," the man +speaking but little, the woman not at all. Old Mizzou smoked +incessantly on a corncob pipe charged with a peculiarly pungent variety +of tobacco, which filled the air with a blue vapour, and penetrated +unpleasantly into Bennington's mucous membranes. + +The next morning it was still raining. + +Bennington became very impatient indeed, but he tackled Le Conte +industriously, and did well enough until he tried to get it into his +head why various things happen to glaciers. Then viscosity, the lines +of swiftest motion, relegation, and directions of pressure came forth +from the printed pages and mocked him. He arose in his might and went +forth into the open air. + +Before going out he had put on his canvas shooting coat and a pair of +hobnailed leather hunting boots, laced for a little distance at the +front and sides. He visited the horses, standing disconsolate under an +open shed in the corral; he slopped, with constantly accruing masses of +sticky earth at his feet, to the chicken coop, into which he cast an +eye; he even took the kitchen pails and tramped down to the spring and +back. In the gulch he did not see or hear a living thing. A newly-born +and dirty little stream was trickling destructively through all manner +of shivering grasses and flowers. The water from Bennington's sleeves +ran down over the harsh canvas cuffs and turned his hands purple with +the cold. He returned to the cabin and changed his clothes. + +The short walk had refreshed him, but it had spurred his impatience. +Outside, the world seemed to have changed. His experience with the +Hills, up to now, had always been in one phase of their beauty--that of +clear, bright sunshine and soft skies. Now it was as a different +country. He could not get rid of the feeling, foolish as it was, that +it was in reality different; and that the whole episode of the girl and +the rock was as a vision which had passed. It grew indistinct in the +presence of this iron reality of cold and wet. He could not assure +himself he had not imagined it all. Thus, belated, he came to thinking +of her again, and having now nothing else to do, he fell into daydreams +that had no other effect than to reveal to him the impatience which had +been, from the first, the real cause of his restlessness under the +temporary confinement. Now the impatience grew in intensity. He +resolved that if the morrow did not end the storm, he would tramp down +the gulch to make a call. All this time _Aliris_ lay quite untouched. + +The next day dawned darker than ever. After breakfast Old Mizzou, as +usual, went out to feed the horses, and Bennington, through sheer +idleness, accompanied him. They distributed the oats and hay, and then +stood, sheltered from the direct rain, conversing idly. + +Suddenly the wind died and the rain ceased. In the place of the gloom +succeeded a strange sulphur-yellow glare which lay on the spirit with +almost physical oppression. Old Mizzou shouted something, and scrambled +excitedly to the house. Bennington looked about him bewildered. + +Over back of the hill, dimly discernible through the trees, loomed the +black irregular shape of a cloud, in dismal contrast to the yellow +glare which now filled all the sky. The horses, frightened, crowded up +close to Bennington, trying to push their noses over his shoulder. A +number of jays and finches rushed down through the woods and darted +rapidly, each with its peculiar flight, toward a clump of trees and +bushes standing on a ridge across the valley. + +From the cabin Old Mizzou was shouting to him. He turned to follow the +old man. Back of him something vast and awful roared out, and then all +at once he felt himself struggling with a rush of waters. He was jammed +violently against the posts of the corral. There he worked to his feet. + +The whole side of the hill was one vast spread of shallow tossing +water, as though a lake had been let fall on the summit of the ridge. +The smaller bushes were uprooted and swept along, but the trees and +saplings held their own. + +In a moment the stones and ridgelets began to show. It was over. Not a +drop of rain had fallen. + +Bennington climbed the corral fence and walked slowly to the house. The +blacksmith shop was filled to the window, and Arthur's cabin was not +much better. He entered the kitchen. The floor there was some two +inches submerged, but the water was slowly escaping through the +down-hill door by which Bennington had come in. Across the dining-room +door Mrs. Arthur had laid a folded rug. In front of the barrier stood +the lady herself, vigorously sweeping back the threatening water from +her only glorious apartment. + +Bennington took the broom from her and swept until the cessation of the +flood made it no longer necessary. Mrs. Arthur commenced to mop the +floor. The young man stepped outside. There he was joined a moment +later by the other two. + +They offered no explanation of their whereabouts during the trouble, +but Bennington surmised shrewdly that they had hunted a dry place. + +"Glory!" cried Old Mizzou. "Lucky she misses us!" + +"What was it? Where'd it come from?" inquired Bennington, shaking the +surface drops from his shoulders. He was wet through. + +"Cloud-burst," replied the miner. "She hit up th' ridge a ways. If +she'd ever burst yere, sonny, ye'd never know what drownded ye. Look at +that gulch!" + +The water had now drained from the hill entirely. It could be seen that +most of the surface earth had been washed away, leaving the skeleton of +the mountain bare. Some of the more slightly rooted trees had fallen, +or clung precariously to the earth with bony fingers. But the gulch +itself was terrible. The mountain laurel, the elders, the sarvis +bushes, the wild roses which, a few days before, had been fragrant and +beautiful with blossom and leaf and musical with birds, had +disappeared. In their stead rolled an angry brown flood whirling in +almost unbroken surface from bank to bank. Several oaks, submerged to +their branches, raised their arms helplessly. As Bennington looked, +one of these bent slowly and sank from sight. A moment later it shot +with great suddenness half its length into the air, was seized by the +eager waters, and whisked away as lightly as though it had been a tree +of straw. Dark objects began to come down with the stream. They seemed +to be trying to preserve a semblance of dignity in their stately +bobbing up and down, but apparently found the attempt difficult. The +roar was almost deafening, but even above it a strangely deliberate +grinding noise was audible. Old Mizzou said it was the grating of +boulders as they were rolled along the bed of the stream. The yellow +glow had disappeared from the air, and the gloom of rain had taken its +place. + +A fine mist began to fall. Bennington for the first time realized he +was wet and shivering, and so he turned inside to change his clothes. + +"It'll all be over in a few hours," remarked Arthur. "I reckon them +Spanish Gulch people'll wish they lived up-stream." + +Bennington paused at the doorway. + +"That's so," he commented. "How about Spanish Gulch? Will it all be +drowned out?" + +"No, I reckon not," replied Arthur. "They'll get wet down a lot, and +have wet blankets to sleep in to-night, that's all. You see the gulch +spraddles out down there, an' then too all this timber'll jam down this +gulch a-ways. That'll back up th' water some, and so she won't come all +of a rush." + +"I see," said Bennington. + +The afternoon was well enough occupied in repairing to some extent the +ravages of the brief storm. A length of the corral had succumbed to the +flood, many valuable tools in the blacksmith shop were in danger of +rust from the dampness, and Arthur and his wife had been completely +washed out. All three men worked hard setting things to rights. The +twilight caught them before their work was done. + +Bennington found himself too weary to attempt an unknown, +_debris_-covered road by dark. He played cribbage with Old Mizzou and +won. + +About half past nine he pushed back his chair and went outside. The +stars had come out by the thousand, and a solitary cricket, which had +in some way escaped the deluge, was chirping in the middle distance. +With a sudden uplift of the heart he realized that he would see "her" +on the morrow. He learned that no matter how philosophically we may +have borne a separation, the prospect of its near end shows us how +strong the repression has been; the lifting of the bonds makes evident +how much they have galled. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE WORLD MADE YOUNG + + +The morning fulfilled the promise of the night before. Bennington de +Laney awoke to a sun-bright world, fresh with the early breezes. A +multitude of birds outside the window bubbled and warbled and carolled +away with all their little mights, either in joy at the return of +peace, or in sorrow at the loss of their new-built houses. Sorrow and +joy sound much alike as nature tells them. The farther ridges and the +prairies were once more in view, but now, oh, wonder! the great plain +had cast aside its robes of monk brown, and had stepped forth in jolly +green-o'Lincoln. The air was full of tingling life. Altogether a +morning to cry one to leap eagerly from bed, to rush to the window, to +drink in deep draughts of electric balmy ozone, and to thank heaven for +the grace of mere existence. + +That at least is what Bennington did. And he did more. He despatched a +hasty breakfast, and went forth and saddled his steed, and rode away +down the gulch, with never a thought of sample tests, and never a care +whether the day's work were done or not. For this was springtime, and +the air was snapping with it. Near the chickens' shelter the burnished +old gobbler spread his tail and dragged his wings and puffed his +feathers and swelled himself red in the face, to the great admiration +of a demure gray-brown little turkey hen. Overhead wheeled two small +hawks screaming. They clashed, and light feathers came floating down +from the encounter; yet presently they flew away together to a hole in +a dead tree. Three song sparrows dashed almost to his very feet, so +busily fighting that they hardly escaped the pony's hoofs. Everywhere +love songs trilled from the underbrush; and Bennington de Laney, as +young, as full of life, as unmated as they, rode slowly along thinking +of his lady love, and---- + +"Hullo! Where are you going?" cried she. + +He looked up with eager joy, to find that they had met in the middle +of what used to be the road. The gulch had been swept bare by the +flood, not only of every representative of the vegetable world, but +also of the very earth in which it had grown. From the remains of the +roadbed projected sharp flints and rocks, among which the broncos +picked their way. + +"Good-morning, Mary," he cried. "I was just coming to see you. Wasn't +it a great rain?" + +"And isn't the gulch awful? Down near our way the timber began to jam, +and it is all choked up; but up here it is desolate." + +He turned his horse about, and they paced slowly along together, +telling each other their respective experiences in the storm. It seemed +that the Lawtons had known nothing of the cloud-burst itself, except +from its effects in filling up the ravine. Rumours of the drowning of a +miner were about. + +It soon became evident that the brightness of the morning was reflected +from the girl's mood. She fairly sparkled with gaiety and high spirits. +The two got along famously. + +"Where are you going?" asked Bennington at last. + +"On the picnic, of course," she rejoined promptly. "Weren't you +invited? I thought you were." + +"I thought it would be too wet," he averred in explanation. + +"Not a bit! The rain dries quickly in the hills, and the cloud-burst +only came into this gulch. I have here," she went on, twisting around +in her saddle to inspect a large bundle and a pair of well-stuffed +saddle bags, "I have here a coffee pot, a frying pan, a little kettle, +two tin cups, and various sorts of grub. I am fixed for a scout sure. +Now when we get near your camp you must run up and get an axe and some +matches." + +Bennington observed with approval the corpulency of the bundle and the +skilful manner with which it was tied on. He noted, with perhaps more +approval, her lithe figure in its old-fashioned painter's blouse and +rough skirt, and the rosiness of her cheeks under a cloth cap caught on +awry. As the ponies sought a path at a snail's pace through the sharp +flints, she showed in a thousand ways how high the gaiety of her +animal spirits had mounted. She sang airy little pieces of songs. She +uttered single clear notes. She mocked, with a ludicrously feminine +croak, the hoarse voice of a crow sailing over them. She rallied +Bennington mercilessly on his corduroys, his yellow flapped pistol +holster, his laced boots. She went over in ridiculous pantomime the +scene of the mock lynching, until Bennington rolled in his saddle with +light-hearted laughter, and wondered how it was possible he had ever +taken the affair seriously. When he returned with the axe she was +hugely alarmed lest he harm himself by his awkward way of carrying it, +and gave him much wholesome advice in her most maternal manner. After +all of which she would catch his eye, and they would both laugh to +startle the birds. + +Blue Lead proved to be some distance away, for which fact Bennington +was not sorry. At length they surmounted a little ridge. Over its +summit there started into being a long cool "draw," broad and shallow +near the top, but deepening by insensible degrees into a canon filled +already with broad-leaved shrubs, and thickly grown with saplings of +beech and ash. Through the screen of slender trunks could be seen +miniature open parks carpeted with a soft tiny fern, not high enough to +conceal the ears of a rabbit, or to quench the flame of the tiger lily +that grew there. Soon a little brook sprang from nowhere, and crept +timidly through and under thick mosses. After a time it increased in +size, and when it had become large enough to bubble over clear gravel, +Mary called a halt. + +"We'll have our picnic here," she decided. + +The ravine at this point received another little gulch into itself, and +where the two came together the bottom widened out into almost parklike +proportions. On one side was a grass-plot encroached upon by numerous +raspberry vines. On the other was the brook, flowing noisily in the +shade of saplings and of ferns. + +Bennington unsaddled the horses and led them over to the grass-plot, +where he picketed them securely in such a manner that they could not +become entangled. When he returned to the brookside he found that Mary +had undone her bundle and spread out its contents. There were various +utensils, some corn meal, coffee, two slices of ham, raw potatoes, a +small bottle of milk, some eggs wonderfully preserved by moss inside +the pail, and some bread and cake. Bennington eyed all this in dismay. +She caught his look and laughed. + +"Can't you cook? Well, I can; you just obey orders." + +"We won't get anything to eat before night," objected Bennington +dolefully as he looked over the decidedly raw material. + +"And he's _so_ hungry!" she teased. "Never mind, you build a fire." + +Bennington brightened. He had one outdoor knack--that of lighting +matches in a wind and inducing refractory wood to burn. His skill had +often been called into requisition in the igniting of beach fires, and +the so-called "camp fires" of girls. He collected dry twigs from the +sunny places, cut slivers with his knife, built over the whole a +wigwam-shaped pyramid of heavier twigs, against which he leaned his +firewood. Then he touched off the combination. The slivers ignited the +twigs, the twigs set fire to the wigwam, the wigwam started the +firewood. Bennington's honour was vindicated. He felt proud. + +Mary, who had been filling the coffee pot at the creek, approached and +viewed the triumph. She cast upon it the glance of scorn. + +"That's no cooking fire," said she. + +So Bennington, under her directions, placed together the two parallel +logs with the hewn sides and built the small bright fire between them. + +"Now you see," she explained, "I can put my frying pan, and coffee pot, +and kettle across the two logs. I can get at them easy, and don't burn +my fingers. Now you may peel the potatoes." + +The Easterner peeled potatoes under constant laughing amendment as to +method. Then the small cook collected her materials about her, in grand +preparation for the final rites. She turned back the loose sleeves of +her blouse to the elbow. + +This drew an exclamation from Bennington. + +"Why, Mary, how white your arms are!" he cried, astonished. + +She surveyed her forearm with a little blush, turning it back and +forth. + +"I _am_ pretty tanned," she agreed. + +The coffee pot was filled and placed across the logs at one end, and +left to its own devices a little removed from the hottest of the fire. +The kettle stood next, half filled with salted water, in which nestled +the potatoes like so many nested eggs. Mary mixed a mysterious +concoction of corn meal, eggs, butter, and some white powder, mushing +the whole up with milk and water. The mixture she spread evenly in the +bottom of the frying pan, which she set in a warm place. + +"It isn't much of a baking tin," she commented, eyeing it critically, +"but it'll do." + +Under her direction Bennington impaled the two slices of ham on long +green switches, and stuck these upright in the ground in such a +position that the warmth from the flames could just reach them. + +"They'll never cook there," he objected. + +"Didn't expect they would," she retorted briefly. Then relenting, +"They finish better if they're warmed through first," she explained. + +By this time the potatoes were bubbling energetically and the coffee +was sending out a fragrant steam. Mary stabbed experimentally at the +vegetables with a sharpened sliver. Apparently satisfied, she drew back +with a happy sigh. She shook her hair from her eyes and smiled across +at Bennington. + +"Ready! Go!" cried she. + +The frying pan was covered with a tin plate on which were heaped live +coals. More coals were poked from between the logs on to a flat place, +were spread out thin, and were crowned by the frying pan and its +glowing freight. Bennington held over the fire a switch of ham in each +hand, taking care, according to directions, not to approach the actual +blaze. Mary borrowed his hunting knife and disappeared into the +thicket. In a moment she returned with a kettle-lifter, improvised very +simply from a forked branch of a sapling. One of the forks was left +long for the hand, the other was cut short. The result was like an +Esquimaux fishhook. She then relieved Bennington of his task, while +that young man lifted the kettle from the fire and carefully drained +away the water. + +"Dinner!" she called gaily. + +Bennington looked up surprised. He had been so absorbed in the spells +wrought by this dainty woods fairy that he had forgotten the flight of +time. It was enough for him to watch the turn of her wrist, the swift +certainty of her movements, to catch the glow lit in her face by the +fire over which she bent. Then he suddenly remembered that her +movements had all along tended toward dinner, and were not got up +simply and merely that he might discover new charms in the small +housekeeper. + +He found himself seated on a rock with a tin plate in his lap, a tin +cup at his side, and an eager little lady in front of him, anxious that +he should taste all her dishes and deliver an opinion forthwith. + +The coffee he pronounced nectar; the ham and mealy potatoes, delicious; +the "johnny-cake" of a yellow golden crispness which the originator of +johnny-cake might envy; and the bread and cake and butter and sugar +only the less meritorious that they had not been prepared by her own +hands and on the spot. + +"And see!" she cried, clapping her hands, "the sun is still directly +over us. It is not night yet, silly boy!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +AND HE DID EAT + + +After the meal he wanted to lie down in the grasses and watch the +clouds sail by, but she would have none of it. She haled him away to +the brookside. There she showed him how to wash dishes by filling them +half full of water in which fine gravel has been mixed, and then +whirling the whole rapidly until the tin is rubbed quite clean. Never +was prosaic task more delightful. They knelt side by side on the bank, +under the dense leaves, and dabbled in the water happily. The ferns +were fresh and cool. Once a redbird shot confidently down from above on +half-closed wing, caught sight of these intruders, brought up with a +swish of feathers, and eyed them gravely for some time from a +neighbouring treelet. Apparently he was satisfied with his inspection, +for after a few minutes he paid no further attention to them, but went +about his business quietly. When the dishes had been washed, Mary +stood over Bennington while he packed them in the bundle and strapped +them on the saddle. + +"Now," said she at last, "we have nothing more to think of until we go +home." + +She was like a child, playing with exhaustless spirits at the most +trivial games. Not for a moment would she listen to anything of a +serious nature. Bennington, with the heavier pertinacity of men when +they have struck a congenial vein, tried to repeat to some extent the +experience of the last afternoon at the rock. Mary laughed his +sentiment to ridicule and his poetics to scorn. Everything he said she +twisted into something funny or ridiculous. He wanted to sit down and +enjoy the calm peace of the little ravine in which they had pitched +their temporary camp, but she made a quiet life miserable to him. At +last in sheer desperation he arose to pursue, whereupon she vanished +lightly into the underbrush. A moment later he heard her clear laugh +mocking him from some elder thickets a hundred yards away. Bennington +pursued with ardour. It was as though a slow-turning ocean liner were +to try to run down a lively little yacht. + +Bennington had always considered girls as weak creatures, incapable of +swift motion, and needing assistance whenever the country departed from +the artificial level of macadam. He had also thought himself fairly +active. He revised these ideas. This girl could travel through the thin +brush of the creek bottom two feet to his one, because she ran more +lightly and surely, and her endurance was not a matter for discussion. +The question of second wind did not concern her any more than it does a +child, whose ordinary mode of progression is heartbreaking. Bennington +found that he was engaged in the most delightful play of his life. He +shouted aloud with the fun of it. He had the feeling that he was +grasping at a sunbeam, or a mist-shape that always eluded him. + +He would lose her utterly, and would stand quite motionless, listening, +for a long time. Suddenly, without warning, an exaggerated leaf crown +would fall about his neck, and he would be overwhelmed with ridicule at +the outrageous figure he presented. Then for a time she seemed +everywhere at once. The mottled sunlight under the trees danced and +quivered after her, smiling and darkening as she dimpled or was grave. +The little whirlwinds of the gulches seized the leaves and danced with +her too, the birches and aspens tossed their hands, and rising ever +higher and wilder and more elf-like came the mocking cadences of her +laughter. + +After a time she disappeared again. Bennington stood still, waiting for +some new prank, but he waited in vain. He instituted a search, but the +search was fruitless. He called, but received no reply. At last he made +his way again to the dell in which they had lunched, and there he found +her, flat on her back, looking at the little summer clouds through +wide-open eyes. + +Her mood appeared to have changed. Indeed that seemed to be +characteristic of her; that her lightness was not so much the lightness +of thistle down, which is ever airy, the sport of every wind, but +rather that of the rose vine, mobile and swaying in every breeze, yet +at the same time rooted well in the wholesome garden earth. She cared +now to be silent. In a little while Bennington saw that she had fallen +asleep. For the first time he looked upon her face in absolute repose. + +Feature by feature, line by line, he went over it, and into his heart +crept that peculiar yearning which seems, on analysis, half pity for +what has past and half fear for what may come. It is bestowed on little +children, and on those whose natures, in spite of their years, are +essentially childlike. For this girl's face was so pathetically young. +Its sensitive lips pouted with a child's pout, its pointed chin was +delicate with the delicacy that is lost when the teeth have had often +to be clenched in resolve; its cheek was curved so softly, its long +eyelashes shaded that cheek so purely. Yet somewhere, like an +intangible spirit which dwelt in it, unseen except through its littlest +effects, Bennington seemed to trace that subtle sadness, or still more +subtle mystery, which at times showed so strongly in her eyes. He +caught himself puzzling over it, trying to seize it. It was most like a +sorrow, and yet like a sorrow which had been outlived. Or, if a +mystery, it was as a mystery which was such only to others, no longer +to herself. The whole line of thought was too fine-drawn for +Bennington's untrained perceptions. Yet again, all at once, he realized +that this very fact was one of the girl's charms to him; that her mere +presence stirred in him perceptions, intuitions, thoughts--yes, even +powers--which he had never known before. He felt that she developed +him. He found that instead of being weak he was merely latent; that now +the latent perceptions were unfolding. Since he had known her he had +felt himself more of a man, more ready to grapple with facts and +conditions on his own behalf, more inclined to take his own view of the +world and to act on it. She had given him independence, for she had +made him believe in himself, and belief in one's self is the first +principle of independence. Bennington de Laney looked back on his old +New York self as on a being infinitely remote. + +She awoke and opened her eyes slowly, and looked at him without +blinking. The sun had gone nearly to the ridge top, and a Wilson's +thrush was celebrating with his hollow notes the artificial twilight +of its shadow. + +She smiled at him a little vaguely, the mists of sleep clouding her +eyes. It is the unguarded moment, the instant of awakening. At such an +instant the mask falls from before the features of the soul. I do not +know what Bennington saw. + +"Mary, Mary!" he cried uncontrolledly, "I love you! I love you, girl." + +He had never before seen any one so vexed. She sat up at once. + +"Oh, _why_ did you have to say that!" she cried angrily. "Why did you +have to spoil things! Why couldn't you have let it go along as it was +without bringing _that_ into it!" + +She arose and began to walk angrily up and down, kicking aside the +sticks and stones as she encountered them. + +"I was just beginning to like you, and now you do this. _Oh_, I am so +angry!" She stamped her little foot. "I thought I had found a man for +once who could be a good friend to me, whom I could meet unguardedly, +and behold! the third day he tells me this!" + +"I am sorry," stammered Bennington, his new tenderness fleeing, +frightened, into the inner recesses of his being. "I beg your pardon, I +didn't know--_Don't_! I won't say it again. Please!" + +The declaration had been manly. This was ridiculously boyish. The girl +frowned at him in two minds as to what to do. + +"Really, truly," he assured her. + +She laughed a little, scornfully. "Very well, I'll give you one more +chance. I like you too well to drop you entirely." (What an air of +autocracy she took, to be sure!) "You mustn't speak of that again. And +you must forget it entirely." She lowered at him, a delicious picture +of wrath. + +They saddled the horses and took their way homeward in silence. The +tenderness put out its flower head from the inner sanctuary. Apparently +the coast was clear. It ventured a little further. The evening was very +shadowy and sweet and musical with birds. The tenderness boldly invaded +Bennington's eyes, and spoke, oh, so timidly, from his lips. + +"I will do just as you say," it hesitated, "and I'll be very, very +good indeed. But am I to have no hope at all?" + +"Why can't you keep off that standpoint entirely?" + +"Just that one question; then I will." + +"Well," grudgingly, "I suppose nothing on earth could keep the average +mortal from hoping; but I can't answer that there is any ground for +it." + +"When can I speak of it again?" + +"I don't know--after the Pioneer's Picnic." + +"That is when you cease to be a mystery, isn't it?" + +She sighed. "That is when I become a greater mystery--even to myself, I +fear," she added in a murmur too low for him to catch. + +They rode on in silence for a little space more. The night shadows were +flowing down between the trees like vapour. The girl of her own accord +returned to the subject. + +"You are greatly to be envied," she said a little sadly, "for you are +really young. I am old, oh, very, very old! You have trust and +confidence. I have not. I can sympathize; I can understand. But that +is all. There is something within me that binds all my emotions so fast +that I can not give way to them. I want to. I wish I could. But it is +getting harder and harder for me to think of absolutely trusting, in +the sense of giving out the self that is my own. Ah, but you are to be +envied! You have saved up and accumulated the beautiful in your nature. +I have wasted mine, and now I sit by the roadside and cry for it. My +only hope and prayer is that a higher and better something will be +given me in place of the wasted, and yet I have no right to expect it. +Silly, isn't it?" she concluded bitterly. + +Bennington made no reply. + +They drew near the gulch, and could hear the mellow sound of bells as +the town herd defiled slowly down it toward town. + +"We part here," the young man broke the long silence. "When do I see +you again?" + +"I do not know." + +"To-morrow?" + +"No." + +"Day after?" + +The girl shook herself from a reverie. "If you want me to believe you, +come every afternoon to the Rock, and wait. Some day I will meet you +there." + +She was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +OLD MIZZOU RESIGNS + + +Bennington went faithfully to the Rock for four days. During whole +afternoons he sat there looking out over the Bad Lands. At sunset he +returned to camp. _Aliris: A Romance of all Time_ gathered dust. +Letters home remained unwritten. Prospecting was left to the capable +hands of Old Mizzou until, much to Bennington's surprise, that +individual resigned his position. + +The samples lay in neatly tied coffee sacks just outside the door. The +tabulations and statistics only needed copying to prepare them for the +capitalist's eye. The information necessary to the understanding of +them reposed in a grimy notebook, requiring merely throwing into shape +as a letter to make them valuable to the Eastern owner of the property. +Anybody could do that. + +Old Mizzou explained these things to Bennington. + +"You-all does this jes's well's I," he said. "You expresses them +samples East, so as they kin assay 'em; an' you sends them notes and +statistics. Then all they is to do is to pay th' rest of the boys when +th' money rolls in. That ain't none of my funeral." + +"But there's the assessment work," Bennington objected. + +"That comes along all right. I aims to live yere in the camp jest th' +same as usual; and I'll help yo' git started when you-all aims to do +th' work." + +"What do you want to quit for, then? If you live here, you may as well +draw your pay." + +"No, sonny, that ain't my way. I has some prospectin' of my own to do, +an' as long as I is a employay of Bishop, I don't like to take his time +fer my work." + +Bennington thought this very high-minded on the part of Old Mizzou. + +"Very well," he agreed, "I'll write Bishop." + +"Oh, no," put in the miner hastily, "no need to trouble. I resigns in +writin', of course; an' I sees to it myself." + +"Well, then, if you'll help me with the assessment work, when shall we +begin?" + +"C'yant jest now," reflected Old Mizzou, "'cause, as I tells you, I +wants to do some work of my own. A'ter th' Pioneer's Picnic, I +reckons." + +The Pioneer's Picnic seemed to limit many things. + +Bennington shipped the ore East, tabulated the statistics, and wrote +his report. About two weeks later he received a letter from Bishop +saying that the assay of the samples had been very poor--not at all up +to expectations--and asking some further information. As to the latter, +Bennington consulted Old Mizzou. The miner said, "I told you so," and +helped on the answer. After this the young man heard nothing further +from his employer. As no more checks came from the East, he found +himself with nothing to do. + +For four afternoons, as has been said, he fruitlessly haunted the Rock. +On the fifth morning he met the girl on horseback. She was quite the +same as at first, and they resumed their old relations as if the fatal +picnic had never taken place. In a very few days they were as intimate +as though they had known each other for years. + +Bennington read to her certain rewritten parts of _Aliris: A Romance of +all Time,_ which would have been ridiculous to any but these two. They +saw it through the glamour of youth; for, in spite of her assertions of +great age, the girl, too, felt the whirl of that elixir in her veins. You +see, he was twenty-one and she was twenty: magic years, more venerable +than threescore and ten. She gave him sympathy, which was just what he +needed for the sake of his self-confidence and development, just the +right thing for him in that effervescent period which is so necessary a +concomitant of growth. The young business man indulges in a hundred wild +schemes, to be corrected by older heads. The young artist paints strange +impressionism, stranger symbolism, and perhaps a strangest other-ism, +before at last he reaches the medium of his individual genius. The young +writer thinks deep and philosophical thoughts which he expresses in +measured polysyllabic language; he dreams wild dreams of ideal motive, +which he sets forth in beautiful allegorical tales full of imagery; and +he delights in Rhetoric--flower-crowned, flashing-eyed, deep-voiced +Rhetoric, whom he clasps to his heart and believes to be true, although +the whole world declares her to be false; and then, after a time, he +decides not to introduce a new system of metaphysics, but to tell a plain +story plainly. Ah, it is a beautiful time to those who dwell in it, and +such a funny time to those who do not! + +They came to possess an influence over each other. She decided how they +should meet; he, how they should act. She had only to be gay, and he +was gay; to be sad, and he was sad; to show her preference for serious +discourse, and he talked quietly of serious things; to sigh for dreams, +and he would rhapsodize. It sometimes terrified her almost when she saw +how much his mood depended on hers. But once the mood was established, +her dominance ceased and his began. If they were sad or gay or +thoughtful or poetic, it was in his way and not in hers. He took the +lead masterfully, and perhaps the more effectually in that it was done +unconsciously. And in a way which every reader will understand, but +which genius alone could put into words, this mutual psychical +dependence made them feel the need of each other more strongly than any +merely physical dependence ever could. + +There is much to do in a new and romantic country, where the imminence +of a sordid, dreary future, when the soil will raise its own people and +the crop will be poor, is mercifully veiled. The future then counts +little in the face of the Past--the Past with its bearded strong men of +other lands, bringing their power and vigour here to be moulded and +directed by the influences of the frontier. Its shadow still lies over +the land. + +They did it all. The Rock was still the favourite place to read or +talk--crossbars nailed on firmly made "shinning" unnecessary now--but +it was often deserted for days while they explored. Bennington had +bought the little bronco, and together they extended their +investigations of the country in all directions. They rode to Spring +Creek Valley. They passed the Range over into Custer Valley. Once they +climbed Harney by way of Grizzly Gulch. + +Thus they grew to know the Hills intimately. From the summit of the +Rock they would often look abroad over the tangle of valleys and +ridges, selecting the objective points for their next expedition. Many +surprises awaited them, for they found that here, as everywhere, a +seemingly uniform exterior covered an almost infinite variety. + +Or again, the horses were given a rest. The sarvis-berries ripened, and +they picked hatfuls. Then followed the raspberries on the stony hills. +They walked four unnecessary miles to see a forest fire, and six to buy +buckskin work from a band of Sioux who had come up into the timber for +their annual supply of tepee poles. They taught their ponies tricks. +They even went wading together, like two small children, in a pool of +Battle Creek. + +Bennington was deliciously, carelessly, forgetfully happy. Only there +was Jim Fay. That individual was as much of a persecution as ever, and +he seemed to enjoy a greater intimacy with the girl than did the +Easterner. He did not see her as often as did the latter, but he +appeared to be more in her confidence. Bennington hated Jim Fay. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE SPIRES OF STONE + + +One afternoon they had pushed over back of Harney, up a very steep +little trail in a very tiny cleft-like canon, verdant and cool. All at +once the trail had stood straight on end. The ponies scrambled up +somehow, and they found themselves on a narrow open _mesa_ splashed +with green moss and matted with an aromatic covering of pine needles. + +Beyond the easternmost edge of the plateau stood great spires of stone, +a dozen in all, several hundred feet high, and of solid granite. They +soared up grandly into the open blue, like so many cathedral spires, +drawing about them that air of solitude and stillness which accompanies +always the sublime in Nature. Even boundless space was amplified at the +bidding of their solemn uplifted fingers. The girl reined in her horse. + +"Oh!" she murmured in a hushed voice, "I feel impertinent--as though I +were intruding." + +A squirrel many hundreds of feet below could be heard faintly barking. + +"There _is_ something solemn about them," the boy agreed in the same +tone, "but, after all, we are nothing to them. They are thinking their +own thoughts, far above everything in the world." + +She slipped from her horse. + +"Let's sit here and watch them," she said. "I want to look at them, and +_feel_ them." + +They sat on the moss, and stared solemnly across at the great spires of +stone. + +"They are waiting for something there," she observed; "for something +that has not come to pass, and they are looking for it always toward +the East. Don't you see how they are waiting?" + +"Yes, like Indian warriors wrapped each in his blanket. They might be +the Manitous. They say there are lots of them in the Hills." + +"Yes, of course!" she cried, on fire with the idea. "They are the Gods +of the people, and they are waiting for something that is +coming--something from the East. What is it?" + +"Civilization," he suggested. + +"Yes! And when this something, this Civilization, comes, then the +Indians are to be destroyed, and so their Gods are always watching for +it toward the East." + +"And," he went on, "when it comes at last, then the Manitous will have +to die, and so the Indians know that their hour has struck when these +great stone needles fall." + +"Why, we have made a legend," she exclaimed with wonder. + +They stretched out on their backs along the slope, and stared up at the +newly dignified Manitous in delicious silence. + +"There was a legend once, you remember?" he began hesitatingly, "the +first day we were on the Rock together. It was about a Spirit +Mountain." + +"Yes, I remember, the day we saw the Shadow." + +"You said you'd tell it to me some time." + +"Did I?" + +"Don't you think now is a good time?" + +She considered a moment idly. + +"Why, yes, I suppose so," she assented, after a pause. "It isn't much +of a legend though." She clasped her hands back of her head. "It goes +like this," she began comfortably: + +"Once upon a time, when the world was very young, there was an evil +Manitou named _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_. He was a very wicked Manitou, but he +was also very accomplished, for he could change himself into any shape +he wished to assume, and he could travel swifter than the wind. But he +was also very wicked. In old times the centres of all the trees were +fat, and people could get food from them, but _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ walked +through the forest and pushed his staff down through the middle of the +trunks, and that is why the cores of the trees are dark-coloured. Maple +sap used to be pure sirup once, too, but _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ diluted it +with rain water just out of spite. But there was one peculiar thing +about _Ne-naw-bo-shoo_. He could not cross a vein of gold or of silver. +There was some sort of magic in them that turned him back--repelled +him. + +"Now, one day two lovers were wandering about on the prairie away east +of here. One of them was named _Mon-e-dowa_, or the Bird Lover, and the +other was _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_, or Rippling Water. And as these two walked +over the plains talking together, along came the evil spirit, +_Ne-naw-bo-shoo_, and as soon as he saw them he chased them, intending +to kill them and drink their blood, as was his custom. + +"They fled far over the prairie. Everywhere that _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_ +stepped, prairie violets grew up; and everywhere that _Mon-e-dowa_ +stepped, a lark sprang up and began to sing. But the wicked +_Ne-naw-bo-shoo_ gained on them fast, for he could run very swiftly. + +"Then suddenly they saw in front of them a great mountain, grown with +pines and seamed with fissures. This astonished them greatly, for they +knew there were no mountains in the prairie country at all; but they +had no time to spare, so they climbed quickly up a broad canon and +concealed themselves. + +"Now, when the wicked Manitou came along he tried to enter the canon +too, but he had to stop, because down in the depths of the mountain +were veins of gold and silver which he could not cross. For many days +he raged back and forth, but in vain. At last he got tired and went +away. + +"Then _Mon-e-dowa_ and _Muj-e-ah-je-wan_, who had been living quite +peacefully on the game with which the mountain swarmed, came out of the +canon and turned toward home. But as soon as they had set foot on the +level prairie again, the mountain vanished like a cloud, and then they +knew they had been aided by _Man-a-boo-sho_, the good Manitou." + +The girl arose and shook her skirt free of the pine needles that clung +to it. + +"Ever since then," she went on, eyeing Bennington saucily sideways, +"the mountain has been invisible except to a very few. The legend says +that when a maid and a warrior see it together they will be----" + +"What?" asked Bennington as she paused. + +"Dead within the year!" she cried gaily, and ran lightly to her pony. + +"Did you like my legend?" she asked, as the ponies, foot-bunched, +minced down the steepest of the trail. + +"Very much; all but the moral." + +"Don't you want to die?" + +"Not a bit." + +"Then I'll have to." + +"That would be the same thing." + +And Bennington dared talk in this way, for the next day began the +Pioneer's Picnic, and lately she had been very kind. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE PIONEER'S PICNIC + + +The Lawtons were not going to the picnic. Bennington was to take Mary +down to Rapid, where the girl was to stay with a certain Dr. McPherson +of the School of Mines. + +An early start was accomplished. They rode down the gulch through the +dwarf oaks, past the farthermost point, and so out into the hard level +dirt road of Battle Creek canon. Beyond were the pines, and a rugged +road, flint-edged, full of dips and rises, turns and twists, hovering +on edges, or bosoming itself in deep rock-strewn cuts. Mary's little +pony cantered recklessly through it all, scampering along like a +playful dog after a stone, leading Bennington's larger animal by +several feet. He had full leisure to notice the regular flop of the Tam +o'Shanter over the lighter dance of the hair, the increasing rosiness +of the cheeks dimpled into almost continual laughter, to catch stray +snatches of gay little remarks thrown out at random as they tore along. +After a time they drew out from the shadow of the pines into the +clearing at Rockerville, where the hydraulic "giants" had eaten away +the hill-sides, and left in them ugly unhealed sores. Then more rough +pine-shadowed roads, from which occasionally would open for a moment +broad vistas of endless glades, clear as parks, breathless descents, or +sharp steep cuts at the bottom of which Spring Creek, or as much of it +as was not turned into the Rockerville sluices, brawled or idled along. +It was time for lunch, so they dismounted near a deep still pool and +ate. The ponies cropped the sparse grasses, or twisted on their backs, +all four legs in the air. Squirrels chattered and scolded overhead. +Some of the indigo-coloured jays of the lowlands shot in long level +flight between the trees. The girl and the boy helped each other, +hindered each other, playing here and there near the Question, but +swerving always deliciously just in time. + +After lunch, more riding through more pines. The road dipped strongly +once, then again; and then abruptly the forest ceased, and they found +themselves cantering over broad rolling meadows knee-high with grasses, +from which meadow larks rose in all directions like grasshoppers. Soon +after they passed the canvas "schooners" of some who had started the +evening before. Down the next long slope the ponies dropped cautiously +with bunched feet and tentative steps. Spring Creek was forded for the +last time, another steep grassy hill was surmounted, and they looked +abroad into Rapid Valley and over to the prairie beyond. + +Behind them the Hills lay, dark with the everlasting greenery of the +North--even, low, with only sun-browned Harney to raise its cliff-like +front above the rest of the range. As though by a common impulse they +reined in their horses and looked back. + +"I wonder just where the Rock is?" she mused. + +They tried to guess at its location. + +The treeless ridge on which they were now standing ran like a belt +outside the Hills. They journeyed along its summit until late in the +afternoon, and then all at once found the city of Rapid lying below +them at the mouth of a mighty canon, like a toy village on fine velvet +brown. + +In the city they separated, Mary going to the McPhersons', Bennington +to the hotel. It was now near to sunset, so it was agreed that +Bennington was to come round the following morning to get her. At the +hotel Bennington spent an interesting evening viewing the pioneers with +their variety of costume, manners, and speech. He heard many good +stories, humorous and blood-curdling, and it was very late before he +finally got to bed. + +The immediate consequence was that he was equally late to breakfast. He +hurried through that meal and stepped out into the street, with the +intention of hastening to Dr. McPherson's for Mary, but this he found +to be impossible because of the overcrowded condition of the streets. +The sports of the day had already begun. From curb to curb the way was +jammed with a dense mass of men, women, and children, through whom he +had to worm his way. After ten feet of this, he heard his name called, +and looking up, caught sight of Mary herself, perched on a dry-goods +box, frantically waving a handkerchief in his direction. + +"You're a nice one!" she cried in mock reproach as he struggled toward +her. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flew red signals of enjoyment. + +Bennington explained. + +"I know. Well, it didn't matter, any way. I just captured this box. +Climb up. There's room. I've lost the doctor and Mrs. McPherson +already." + +Two mounted men, decorated with huge tin marshals' badges, rode slowly +along forcing the crowd back to the right and to the left. The first +horse race was on. Suddenly there was an eager scramble, a cloud of +dust, a swift impression of dim ghostlike figures. It was over. The +crowd flowed into the street again. + +The two pressed together, hand in hand, on the top of the dry-goods +box. They laughed at each other and everything. Something beautiful was +very near to them, for this was the Pioneer's Picnic, and both +remembered that the Pioneer's Picnic marked the limit of many things. + +"What's next? What's next?" she called excitedly to a tall young +cattleman. + +The cowboy looked up at her, and his face relaxed into a pleased smile. + +"Why, it's a drillin' match over in the next street, miss," he answered +politely. "You'd better run right along over and get a good place." He +glanced at de Laney, smiled again, and turned away, apparently to +follow his own advice. + +"Come on, we'll follow him," cried Mary, jumping down. + +"And abandon our box?" objected Bennington. But she was already in full +pursuit of the tall cowboy. + +The ring around the large boulder--dragged by mule team from the +hills--had just begun to form when they arrived, so they were enabled +to secure good places near the front rank, where they kneeled on their +handkerchiefs, and the crowd hemmed them in at the back. The drilling +match was to determine which pair of contestants could in a given +time, with sledge and drill, cut the deepest hole in a granite boulder. +To one who stood apart, the sight must have been picturesque in the +extreme. The white dust, stirred by restless feet, rose lazily across +the heated air. The sun shone down clear and hot with a certain +wide-eyed glare that is seen only in the rarefied atmosphere of the +West. Around the outer edge of the ring hovered a few anxious small +boys, agonized that they were missing part of the show. Stolidly +indifferent Indians, wrapped close in their blankets, smoked silently, +awaiting the next pony race, the riders of which were skylarking about +trying to pull each other from their horses' backs. + +When the last pair had finished, the judges measured the depths of the +holes drilled, and announced the victors. + +The crowd shouted and broke for the saloons. The latter had been plying +a brisk business, so that men were about ready to embrace in +brotherhood or in battle with equal alacrity. + +Suddenly it was the dinner hour. The crowd broke. Bennington and Mary +realized they had been wandering about hand in hand. They directed +their steps toward the McPhersons with the greatest propriety. It was a +glorious picnic. + +The house was gratefully cool and dark after the summer heat out of +doors. The little doctor sat in the darkest room and dissertated +cannily on the strange variety of subjects which a Scotchman can always +bring up on the most ordinary occasions. + +The doctor was not only a learned man, as was evidenced by his position +in the School of Mines and his wonderful collections, but was a scout +of long standing, a physician of merit, and an Indian authority of +acknowledged weight. Withal he was so modest that these things became +known only by implication or hearsay, never by direct evidence. Mrs. +McPherson was not Scotch at all, but plain comfortable American, +redolent of wholesome cleanliness and good temper, and beaming with +kindliness and round spectacles. Never was such a doctor; never was +such a Mrs. McPherson; never was such a dinner! And they brought in +after-dinner coffee in small cups. + +"Ah, ha! Mr. de Laney," laughed the doctor, who had been watching him +with quizzical eye. "We're pretty bad, but we aren't got quite to +savagery yet." + +Bennington hastened to disavow. + +"That's all right," the doctor reassured him; "that's all right. I +didn't wonder at ye in this country, but Mrs. McPherson and mysel' jest +take a wee trip occasionally to keep our wits bright. Isn't it so, Mrs. +Mac?" + +"It is that," said she with a doubtful inner thought as to the +propriety of offering cream. + +"And as for you," went on the doctor dissertatively, "I suppose ye're +getting to be somewhat of a miner yourself. I mind me we did a bit of +assay work for your people the other day--the Crazy Horse, wasn't it? A +good claim I should judge, from the sample, and so I wrote Davidson." + +"When was this?" asked the Easterner, puzzled. + +"The last week." + +"I didn't know he had had any assaying done." + +"O weel," said the doctor comfortably, "it may not have occurred to him +to report yet. It was rich." + +"Mrs. McPherson, let's talk about dresses," called Mary across the +table. "Here we've come down for a _holiday_ and they insist on talking +mining." + +And so the subject was dropped, but Bennington could not get it out of +his mind. Why should Mizzou have had the Crazy Horse assayed without +saying anything about it to him? Why had he not reported the result? +How did it happen that the doctor's assistants had found the ore rich +when the company's assayers East had proved it poor? Why should Mizzou +have it assayed at all, since he was no longer connected with the +company? But, above all, supposing he had done this with the intention +of keeping it secret from Bennington, what possible benefit or +advantage could the old man derive from such an action? + +He puzzled over this. It seemed to still the effervescence of his joy. +He realized suddenly that he had been very careless in a great many +respects. The work had all been trusted to Davidson, while he, often, +had never even seen it. He had been entirely occupied with the girl. He +experienced that sudden sinking feeling which always comes to a man +whom neglected duty wakes from pleasure. + +What was Davidson's object? Could it be that he hoped to "buy in" a +rich claim at a low figure, and to that end had sent poor samples East? +The more he thought of this the more reasonable it seemed. His +resignation was for the purpose of putting him in the position of +outside purchaser. + +He resolved to carry through the affair diplomatically. During the +afternoon he ruminated on how this was to be done. Mary could not +understand his preoccupation. It piqued her. A slight strangeness +sprang up between them which he was too _distrait_ to notice. Finally, +as he tumbled into bed that night, an idea so brilliant came to him +that he sat bolt upright in sheer delight at his own astuteness. + +He would ask Dr. McPherson for a copy of the assays. If his suspicions +were correct, these assays would represent the richest samples. He +would send them at once to Bishop with a statement of the case, in that +manner putting the capitalist on his guard. There was something +exquisitely humorous to him in the idea of thus turning to his own use +the information which Davidson had accumulated for his fraudulent +purposes. He went to sleep chuckling over it. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN + + +The next morning the young man had quite regained his good spirits. The +girl, on the other hand, was rather quiet. + +Dr. McPherson made no objections to furnishing a copy of the assays. +The records, however, were at the School of Mines. He drove down to get +them, and in the interim the two young people, at Mrs. McPherson's +suggestion, went to see the train come in. + +The platform of the station was filled to suffocation. Assuming that +the crowd's intention was to view the unaccustomed locomotive, it was +strange it did not occur to them that the opposite side of the track or +the adjacent prairie would afford more elbow room. They huddled +together on the boards of the platform as though the appearance of the +spectacle depended on every last individual's keeping his feet from the +naked earth. They pushed good-naturedly here and there, expostulating, +calling to one another facetiously, looking anxiously down the +straight, dwindling track for the first glimpse of the locomotive. + +Mary and Bennington found themselves caught up at once into the vortex. +After a few moments of desperate clinging together, they were forced +into the front row, where they stood on the very edge, braced back +against the pressure, half laughing, half vexed. + +The train drew in with a grinding rush. From the step swung the +conductor. Faces looked from the open windows. + +On the platform of one of the last cars stood a young girl and three +men. One of the men was elderly, with white hair and side whiskers. The +other two were young and well dressed. The girl was of our best +patrician type--the type that may know little, think little, say +little, and generally amount to little, and yet carry its negative +qualities with so used an air of polite society as to raise them by +sheer force to the dignity of positive virtues. From head to foot she +was faultlessly groomed. From eye to attitude she was languidly +superior--the impolitic would say bored. Yet every feature of her +appearance and bearing, even to the very tips of her enamelled and +sensibly thick boots, implied that she was of a different class from +the ordinary, and satisfied on "common people" that impulse which +attracts her lesser sisters to the vulgar menagerie. She belonged to +the proper street--at the proper time of day. Any one acquainted with +the species would have known at once that this private-car trip to +Deadwood was to please the prosperous-looking gentleman with the side +whiskers, and that it was made bearable only by the two smooth-shaven +individuals in the background. + +She caught sight of the pair directly in front of her, and raised her +lorgnette with a languid wrist. + +Her stare was from the outside-the-menagerie standpoint. Bennington was +not used to it. For the moment he had the Fifth Avenue feeling, and +knew that he was not properly dressed. Therefore, naturally, he was +confused. He lowered his head and blushed a little. Then he became +conscious that Mary's clear eyes were examining him in a very troubled +fashion. + +Three hours and a half afterward it suddenly occurred to him that she +might have thought he had blushed and lowered his head because he was +ashamed to be seen by this other girl in her company; but it was then +too late. + +The train pulled out. The Westerners at once scattered in all +directions. Half an hour later the choking cloud dusts rose like smoke +from the different trails that led north or south or west to the heart +of the Hills. + +"The picnic is over," he suggested gently at their noon camping place. + +"Yes, thank Heaven!" + +"You remember your promise?" + +"What promise?" + +"That you would explain your 'mystery.'" + +"I've changed my mind." + +A leaf floated slowly down the wind. A raven croaked. The breeze made +the sunbeams waver. + +"Mary, the picnic is over," he repeated again very gently. + +"Yes, yes, yes!" + +"I love you, Mary." + +The raven spread his wings and flew away. + +"Do you love me?" he insisted gently. + +"I want you to come to dinner at our house to-morrow noon." + +"That is a strange answer, Mary." + +"It is all the answer you'll get to-day." + +"Why are you so cross? Is anything the matter?" + +"Nothing." + +"I love you, Mary. I love you, girl. At least I can say that now." + +"Yes, you can say it--now." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A NOON DINNER + + +Bennington did not know what to make of his invitation. At one moment +he told himself it must mean that Mary loved him, and that she wished +him to meet her parents on that account. At the next he tormented +himself with the conviction that she thus merely avoided the issue. +Between these moods he alternated, without being able to abide in +either. He forgot all about Old Mizzou. + +Promptly at noon the following day he turned up the little right-hand +trail for the first time. + +The Lawton house he found, first of all, to be scrupulously neat. It +stood on a knoll, as do most gulch cabins, in order that occasional +freshets might pass below, and the knoll looked as though it had been +clipped with a pair of scissors. Not a crooked little juniper bush was +allowed to intrude its plebeian sprawl among the dignified pines and +the gracefully infrequent bushes. In front of the cabin itself was a +"rockery" of pink quartz, on which were piled elk antlers. The building +was L-shaped, of two low stories, had a veranda with a railing, and +possessed various ornamental wood edgings, all of which were painted. +The whole affair was mathematically squared and correspondingly neat. +Some boxes and pots of flowers adorned the window ledges. + +Bennington's knock was answered by an elderly woman, who introduced +herself at once as Mrs. Lawton. She commenced a voluble and slightly +embarrassed explanation of how "she" would be down in a moment or so, +at the same time leading the way into the parlour. While this +explanation was going forward, Bennington had a good chance to examine +his hostess and her surroundings. + +Mrs. Lawton was of the fat but energetic variety. She fairly shone with +cleanliness and with an insistent determination to keep busy. You could +see that all the time her tongue was uttering polite platitudes +concerning the weather, her mind was hovering like a dragon fly over +this or that flower of domestic economy. She was one of the women who +carry their housekeeping to a perfection uncomfortable both to herself +and everybody else, and then delude themselves into the martyrlike +belief that she is doing it all entirely for others. As a consequence, +she exhibited much of the time an aggrieved air that comported but +ludicrously with her tendency to bustle. And it must be confessed that +in other ways Mrs. Lawton was ludicrous. Her dumpy little form was +dressed in the loudest of prints, the figures of which turned her into +a huge flower bed of brilliant cabbage-like blooms. Over this chaos of +colours peered her round little face with its snapping eyes. She +discoursed in sentences which began coherently, but frayed out soon +into nothingness under the stress of inner thought. "I don't see where +that husban' of mine is. I reckon you'll think we're just awful rude, +Mr. de Laney, and that gal, an' Maude. I declare it's jest enough to +try any one's patience, it surely is. You've no idea, Mr. de Laney, +what with the hens settin', and this mis'able dry spell that sends th' +dust all over everything and every one 'way behin' hand on +everythin'----" Her eye was becoming vacant as she wondered about +certain biscuits. + +"I'm sure it must be," agreed Bennington uncomfortably. + +"What was I a-sayin'? You must excuse me, Mr. de Laney, but you, being +a man, can have no idea of the life us poor women folks lead, slavin' +our very lives away to keep things runnin', and then no thanks fer it +a'ter all. I'd just like t' see Bill Lawton try it _fer jest one week_. +He'd be a ravin' lunatic, an' thet I tell him often. This country's +jest awful, too. I tell him he must get out sometimes, and I 'spect he +will, when he's made his pile, poor man, an' then we'll have a chanst +to go back East again. When we lived East, Mr. de Laney, we had a +house--not like this little shack; a good house with nigh on to a dozen +rooms, and I had a gal to help me and some chanst to buy things once in +a while, but now that Bill Lawton's moved West, what's goin' to become +o' me I don't know. I'm nigh wore out with it all." + +"Then you lived East once?" asked Bennington. + +"Law, yes! We lived in Illinoy once, and th' Lord only knows I wisht we +lived there yet, though the farmin' was a sight of work and no pay +sometimes." The inner doubts as to the biscuits proved too much for +her. "Heaven knows, you ain't t' git much to eat," she cried, jumping +up, "but you ain't goin' to git anythin' a tall if I don't run right +off and tend to them biscuit." + +She bustled out. Bennington had time then to notice the decorations of +the "parlour." They offered to the eye a strange mixture of the East +and West--reminiscences of the old home in "Illinoy" and trophies of +the new camping-out on the frontier. From the ceiling hung a heavy lamp +with prismatic danglers, surrounded by a globe on which were depicted +stags in the act of leaping six-barred gates. By way of complement to +this gorgeous centrepiece, the paper on the walls showed, in infinitely +recurring duplicate, a huntress in green habit and big hat carrying on +a desperate flirtation with a young man in the habiliments of the +fifteenth century, while across the background a huddle of dogs pursued +a mammoth deer. Mathematically beneath the lamp stood a table covered +with a red-figured spread. On the table was a glass bell, underneath +which were wax flowers and a poorly-stuffed robin. In one angle of the +room austerely huddled a three-cornered "whatnot" of four shelves. Two +china pugs and a statuette of a simpering pair of children under a +massive umbrella adorned this article of furniture. On the wall ticked +an old-fashioned square wooden clock. The floor was concealed by a rag +carpet. So much for the East. The West contributed brilliant green +copper ore, flaky white tin ore, glittering white quartz ore, shining +pyrites, and one or two businesslike specimens of oxygenated quartz, +all of which occupied points of exhibit on the "whatnot." Over the +carpet were spread a deer skin, and a rug made from the hide of a +timber wolf. Bennington found all this interesting but depressing. He +was glad when Mrs. Lawton returned and took up her voluble discourse. + +In the midst of a dissertation on the relation of corn meal to eggs +the door opened, and Mr. Lawton sidled in. + +"Oh, here y' are at last!" observed his spouse scornfully, and rattled +on. Lawton nodded awkwardly, and perched himself on the edge of a +chair. He had assumed an ill-fitting suit of store clothes, in which he +unaccustomedly writhed, and evidently, to judge from the sleekness of +his hair, had recently plunged his head in a pail of water. He said +nothing, but whenever Mrs. Lawton was not looking he winked elaborately +and solemnly at Bennington as though to imply that circumstances alone +prevented any more open show of cordiality. At last, catching the young +man's eye at a more than usually propitious moment, he went through the +pantomime of opening a bottle, then furtively arose and disappeared. +Mrs. Lawton, remembering her cakes, ran out. Bennington was left alone +again. He had not spoken six words. + +The door slowly opened, and another member of the family sidled in. +Bennington owned a helpless feeling that this was a sort of show, and +that these various actors in it were parading their entrances and +their exits before him. Or that he himself were the object of +inspection on whom the others were satisfying their own curiosity. + +The newcomer was a child, a little girl about eight or ten years old. +Bennington liked children as a usual thing. No one on earth could have +become possessed in this one's favour. She was a creature of regular +but mean features, extreme gravity, and evidently of an inquiring +disposition. On seeing her for the first time, one sophisticated would +have expected a deluge of questions. Bennington did. But she merely +stood and stared without winking. + +"Hullo, little girl!" Bennington greeted her uneasily. + +The creature only stared the harder. + +"My doll's name is Garnet M-a-ay," she observed suddenly, with a +long-drawn nasal accent. + +After this interesting bit of information another silence fell. + +"What is your name, little girl?" Bennington asked desperately at +last. + +"Maude," remarked the phenomenon briefly. + +This statement she delivered in that whining tone which the extremely +self-conscious infant imagines to indicate playful childishness. She +approached. + +"D' you want t' see my picters?" she whimpered confidingly. + +Bennington expressed his delight. + +For seven geological ages did he gaze upon cheap and horrible woodcuts +of gentlemen in fashionable raiment trying to lean against +conspicuously inadequate rustic gates; equally fashionable ladies, with +flat chests, and rat's nest hair; and animals whose attitudes denoted +playful sportiveness of disposition. Each of these pictures was +explained in minute detail. Bennington's distress became apathy. Mrs. +Lawton returned from the cakes presently, yet her voice seemed to break +in on the duration of centuries. + +"Now, Maude!" she exclaimed, with a proper maternal pride, "you mustn't +be botherin' the gentleman." She paused to receive the expected +disclaimer. It was made, albeit a little weakly. "Maude is very good +with her Book," she explained. "Miss Brown, that's the school teacher +that comes over from Hill Town summers, she says Maude reads a sight +better than lots as is two or three years older. Now how old would you +think she was, Mr. de Laney?" + +Mr. de Laney tried to appraise, while the object hung her head +self-consciously and twisted her feet. He had no idea of children's +ages. + +"About eleven," he guessed, with an air of wisdom. + +"Jest eight an' a half!" cried the dame, folding her hands +triumphantly. She let her fond maternal gaze rest on the prodigy. +Suddenly she darted forward with extraordinary agility for one so well +endowed with flesh, and seized her offspring in relentless grasp. + +"I do declare, Maude Eliza!" she exclaimed in horror-stricken tones, +"you ain't washed your ears! You come with me!" + +They disappeared in a blue mist of wails. + +As though this were his cue, the crafty features of Lawton appeared +cautiously in the doorway, bestowed a furtive and searching inspection +on the room, and finally winked solemnly at its only occupant. A hand +was inserted. The forefinger beckoned. Bennington arose wearily and +went out. + +Lawton led the way to a little oat shed standing at some distance from +the house. Behind this he paused. From beneath his coat he drew a round +bottle and two glass tumblers. + +"No joke skippin' th' ole lady," he chuckled in an undertone. He poured +out a liberal portion for himself, and passed the bottle along. +Bennington was unwilling to hurt the old fellow's feelings after he had +taken so much trouble on his account, but he was equally unwilling to +drink the whisky. So he threw it away when Lawton was not looking. + +They walked leisurely toward the house, Lawton explaining various +improvements in a loud tone of voice, intended more to lull his wife's +suspicions than to edify the young man. The lady looked on them +sternly, and announced dinner. At the table Bennington found Mary +already seated. + +The Easterner was placed next to Mrs. Lawton. At his other hand was +Maude Eliza. Mary sat opposite. Throughout the meal she said little, +and only looked up from her plate when Bennington's attention was +called another way. + +Her mere presence, however, seemed to open to the young man a different +point of view. He found Mrs. Lawton's lengthy dissertations amusing; he +considered Mr. Lawton in the light of a unique character, and Maude +Eliza, while as disagreeable as ever, came in for various excuses and +explanations on her own behalf in the young man's mind. He became more +responsive. He told a number of very good stories, at which the others +laughed. He detailed some experiences of his own at places in the world +far remote, selected, it must be confessed, with some slight reference +to their dazzling effect on the company. Without actually "showing +off," he managed to get the effect of it. The result of his efforts was +to harmonize to some extent these diverse elements. Mrs. Lawton became +more coherent, Mr. Lawton more communicative; Maude Eliza stopped +whining--occasionally and temporarily. Bennington had rarely been in +such high spirits. He was surprised himself, but then was not that day +of moment to him, and would he not have been a strange sort of +individual to have seen in the world aught but brightness? + +But Mary responded not at all. Rather, as Bennington arose, she fell, +until at last she hardly even moved in her place. + +"Chirk up, chirk up!" cried Mrs. Lawton gaily, for her. "I know some +one who ought to be happy, anyhow." She glanced meaningly from one to +the other and laughed heartily. + +Bennington felt a momentary disgust at her tactlessness, but covered it +with some laughing sally of his own. The meal broke up in great good +humour. Mrs. Lawton and Maude Eliza remained to clear away the dishes. +Mr. Lawton remarked that he must get back to work, and shook hands in +farewell most elaborately. Bennington laughingly promised them all that +he would surely come again. Then he escaped, and followed Mary up the +hill, surmising truly enough that she had gone on toward the Rock. He +thought he caught a glimpse of her through the elders. He hastened his +footsteps. At this he stumbled slightly. From his pocket fell a letter +he had received that morning. He picked it up and looked at it idly. + +It was from his mother and covered a number of closely-written pages. +As he was about to thrust it back into his pocket a single sentence +caught his eye. It read: "Sally Ogletree gave a supper last week, which +was a very pretty affair." + +He stopped short on the trail, and the world seemed to go black around +him. He almost fell. Then resumed his way, but step now was hesitating +and slow, and he walked with his eyes bent thoughtfully on the ground. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +NOBLESSE OBLIGE + + +The thought which caused Bennington de Lane so suddenly look grave was +suggested by the sentence in his mother's letter. For the first time he +realized that these people, up to now so amusing, were possibly +destined to come into intimate relations with himself. Old Bill Lawton +was Mary's father; while Mrs. Lawton was Mary's mother; Maude was +Mary's sister. + +The next instant a great rush of love into his heart drove this feeling +from it. What matter anything, provided she loved him and he loved her? +Generous sentiment so filled him that there was room for nothing else. +He even experienced dimly in the depths of his consciousness, a faint +pale joy that in thus accepting what was disagreeable to his finer +sensibilities, he was proving more truly to his own self the +boundlessness of his love. For the moment he was exalted by this +instant revulsion against anything calculating in his passion. And +then slowly, one by one, the objections stole back, like a flock of +noisome sombre creatures put to flight by a sudden movement, but now +returning to their old nesting places. The very unassuming method of +their recurrence lent them an added influence. Almost before Bennington +knew it they had established a case, and he found himself face to face +with a very ugly problem. + +Perhaps it will be a little difficult for the average and democratic +reader to realize fully the terrible proportions of this problem. We +whose lives assume little, require little of them. Intangible +objections to the desires of our hearts do not count for much against +their realization; there needs the rough attrition of reality to turn +back our calm, complacent acquisition of that which we see to be for +our best interest in the emotional world. Claims of ancestry mean +nothing. Claims of society mean not much more. Claims of wealth are +considered as evanescent among a class of men who, by their efforts and +genius, are able to render absolute wealth itself an evanescent +quality. When one of us loves, he questions the worth of the object of +his passion. That established, nothing else is of great importance. +There is a grand and noble quality in this, but it misses much. About +the other state of affairs--wherein the woman's appurtenances of all +kinds, as well as the woman herself, are significant--is a delicate and +subtle aura of the higher refinement--the long refinement of the spirit +through many generations--which, to an eye accustomed to look for +gradations of moral beauty, possesses a peach-blow iridescence of its +own. From one point of view, the old-fashioned forms of thought and +courtesy are stilted and useless. From another they retain still the +lofty dignity of _noblesse oblige_. + +So we would have none set down Bennington de Laney as a prig or a snob +because he did not at once decide for his heart as against his +aristocratic instincts. Not only all his early education, but the life +lessons of many generations of ancestors had taught him to set a +fictitious value on social position. He was a de Laney on both sides. +He had never been allowed to forget it. A long line of forefathers, +proud-eyed in their gilded frames, mutely gazed their sense of the +obligations they had bequeathed to this last representative of their +race. When one belongs to a great family he can not live entirely for +himself. His disgrace or failure reflects not alone on his own +reputation, but it sullies the fair fame of men long dead and buried; +and this is a dreadful thing. For all these old Puritans and Cavaliers, +these knights and barons, these king's councillors and scholars, have +perchance lived out the long years of their lives with all good intent +and purpose and with all earnestness of execution, merely that they +might build and send down to posterity this same fair fame. It is a +bold man, or a wicked man, who will dare lightly to bring the efforts +of so many lives to naught! In the thought of these centuries of +endeavour, the sacrifice of mere personal happiness does not seem so +great an affair after all. The Family Name has taken to itself a soul. +It is a living thing. It may be worked for, it may be nourished by +affection, it may even be worshipped. Men may give their lives to it +with as great a devotion, with as exalted a sense of renunciation, and +as lofty a joy in that renunciation, as those who vow allegiance to St. +Francis or St. Dominic. The tearing of the heart from the bosom often +proves to be a mortal hurt when there is nothing to put in the gap of +its emptiness. Not so when a tradition like this may partly take its +place. + +These, and more subtle considerations, were the noblest elements of +Bennington de Laney's doubts. But perhaps they were no more potent than +some others which rushed through the breach made for them in the young +man's decision. + +He had always lived so much at home that he had come to accept the home +point of view without question. That is to say, he never examined the +value of his parent's ideas, because it never occurred to him to doubt +them. He had no perspective. + +In a way, then, he accepted as axioms the social tenets held by his +mother, or the business methods practised by his father. He believed +that elderly men should speak precisely, and in grammatical, but +colourless English. He believed also that people should, in society, +conduct themselves according to the fashion-plate pattern designed by +Mrs. de Laney. He believed these things, not because he was a fool, or +shallow, or lacking in humour, or snobbish, but because nothing had +ever happened to cause him to examine his beliefs closely, that he +might appreciate what they really were. One of these views was, that +cultured people were of a class in themselves, and could not and should +not mix with other classes. Mrs. de Laney entertained a horror of +vulgarity. So deep-rooted was this horror that a remote taint of it was +sufficient to thrust forever outside the pale of her approbation any +unfortunate who exhibited it. She preferred stupidity to common sense, +when the former was allied with good form, and the latter only with +plain kindliness. This was partly instinct and partly the result of +cultivation. She would shrink, with uncontrollable disgust, from any of +the lower classes with whom she came unavoidably in contact. A slight +breach of the conventions earned her distrust of one of her own caste. +As this personal idiosyncrasy fell in line with the de Laney pride, it +was approved by the head of the family. Under encouragement it became +almost a monomania. + +Bennington pictured to himself only too vividly the effect of the +Lawtons on this lady's aristocratic prejudices. He knew, only too well, +that Bill Lawton's table manners would not be allowed even in her +kitchen. He could imagine Mrs. Lawton's fatuous conversation in the de +Laney's drawing-room, or Maude Eliza's dressed-up self-consciousness. +The experience of having the three Westerners to dinner just once +would, Bennington knew, drive his lady mother to the verge of nervous +prostration--he remembered his father's one and only experience in +bringing business connections home to lunch--; his imagination failed +to picture the effect of her having to endure them as actual members of +the family! As if this were not bad enough, his restless fancy carried +him a step farther. He perceived the agonies of shame and +mortification, real even though they were conventional, she would have +to endure in the face of society. That the de Laneys, social leaders, +rigid in respectability, should be forced to the humiliation of +acknowledging a misalliance, should be forced to the added humiliation +of confessing that this marriage was not only with a family of inferior +social standing, but with one actually unlettered and vulgar! +Bennington knew only too well the temper of his mother--and of society. + +It would not be difficult to expand these doubts, to amplify these +reasons, and even to adduce others which occurred to the unhappy young +man as he climbed the hill. But enough has been said. Surely the +reader, no matter how removed in sympathy from that line of argument, +must be able now at least to sympathize, to perceive that Bennington de +Laney had some reason for thought, some excuse for the tardiness of his +steps as they carried him to a meeting with the girl he loved. + +For he did love her, perhaps the more tenderly that doubts must, +perforce, arise. All these considerations affected not at all his +thought of her. But now, for the first time, Bennington de Laney was +weighing the relative claims of duty and happiness. His happiness +depended upon his love. That his duty to his race, his parents, his +caste had some reality in fact, and a very solid reality in his own +estimation, the author hopes he has shown. If not, several pages have +been written in vain. + +The conflict in his mind had carried him to the Rock. Here, as he +expected, he found Mary already arrived. He ascended to the little +plateau and dropped wearily to the moss. His face had gone very white +in the last quarter of an hour. + +"You see now why I asked you to come to-day," she said without +preliminary. "Now you have seen them, and there is nothing more to +conceal." + +"I know, I know," he replied dully. "I am trying to think it out. I +can't see it yet." + +They took entirely for granted that each knew the subject of the +other's thoughts. The girl seemed much the more self-possessed of the +two. + +"We may as well understand each other," she said quietly, without +emotion. "You have told me a certain thing, and have asked me for a +certain answer. I could not give it to you before without deceiving +you. Now the answer depends on you. I have deceived you in a way," she +went on more earnestly, "but I did not mean to. I did not realize the +difference, truly I didn't, until I saw the girl on the train. Then I +knew the difference between her and me, and between her's and mine. And +when you turned away, I saw that you were her kind, and I saw, too, +that you ought to know everything there was about me. Then you spoke." + +"I meant what I said, too," he interrupted. "You must believe that, +Mary, whatever comes." + +"I was sorry you did," she went on, as though she had not heard him. +Then with just a touch of impatience tingeing the even calm of her +voice, "Oh, why will men insist on saying those things!" she cried. +"The way to win a girl is not thus. He should see her often, without +speaking of love, being everything to her, until at last she finds she +can not live without him." + +"Have I been that to you, Mary? Has it come to that with me?" he asked +wistfully. + +"Heaven help me, I am afraid it has!" she cried, burying her face in +her hands. + +A great gladness leaped up into his face, and died as the blaze of a +fire leaps up and expires. + +"That makes it easier--and harder," he said. "It is bad enough as it +is. I don't know how I can make you understand, dear." + +"I understand more than you think," she replied, becoming calm again, +and letting her hands fall into her lap. "I am going to speak quite +plainly. You love me, Ben--ah, don't I know it!" she cried, with a +sudden burst of passion. "I have seen it in your eyes these many days. +I have heard it in your voice. I have felt it welling out from your +great heart. It has been sweet to me--so sweet! You can not know, no +man ever could know, how that love of yours has filled my soul and my +heart until there was room for nothing else in the whole wide world!" + +"You love me!" he said wonderingly. + +"If I had not known that, do you think I would have endured a moment's +hesitation after you had seen the objectionable features of my life? Do +you think that if I had the slightest doubts of your love, I could now +understand _why_ you hesitate? But I do, and I honour you for it." + +"You love me!" he repeated. + +"Yes, yes, Ben dear, I _do_ love you. I love you as I never thought +to be permitted to love. Do you want to know what I did that second day +on the Rock--the day you first showed me what you really were? The day +you told me of your old home and the great tree? It was all so +peaceful, and tender, and comforting, so sweet and pure, that it rested +me. I felt, here is a man at last who could not misunderstand me, could +not be abrupt, and harsh, and cruel. I said to myself, 'He is not +perfect nor does he expect perfection.' I shut my eyes, and then +something choked me, and the tears came. I cried out loud, 'Oh, to be +what I was, to give again what I have not! O God, give me back my heart +as it once was, and let me love!' Yes, Ben dear, I said 'love.' And +then I was not happy any more all day. But God answered that prayer, +Ben dear, and we do love one another now, and that is why we can look +at things together, and see what is best for us both." + +"You love me!" he exclaimed for the third time. + +"And now, dear, we must talk plainly and calmly. You have seen what my +family is." + +"I don't know, Mary, that I can make you understand at all," began +Bennington helplessly. "I can't express it even to myself. Our people +are so different. My training has been so different. All this sort of +thing means so much to us, and so little to you." + +"I know exactly," she interrupted. "I have read, and I have lived East. +I can appreciate just how it is. See if I can not read your thoughts. +My family is uneducated. If it becomes your family, your own parents +will be more than grieved, and your friends will have little to do with +you. You have also duties toward your family, _as_ a family. Is that +it?" + +"Yes, that _is_ it," answered he, "but there are so many things it does +not say. It seems to me it has come to be a horrible dilemma with me. +If I do what I am afraid is my duty to my family and my people, I will +be unhappy without you forever. And if I follow my heart, then it seems +to me I will wrong myself, and will be unhappy that way. It seems a +choice of just in what manner I will be miserable!" he ended with a +ghastly laugh. + +"And which is the most worth while?" she asked in a still voice. + +"I don't know, I don't know!" he cried miserably. "I must think." + +He looked out straight ahead of him for some time. "Whichever way I +decide," he said after a little, "I want you to know this, Mary: I love +you, and I always will love you, and the fact that I choose my duty, if +I do, is only that if I did not, I would not consider myself worthy +even to look at you." A silence fell on them again. + +"I can not live West," said he again, as though he had been arguing +this point in his mind and had just reached the conclusion of it. "My +life is East; I never knew it until now." He hesitated. "Would +you--that is, could you--I mean, would your family have to live East +too?" + +She caught his meaning and drew herself up, with a little pride in the +movement. + +"Wherever I go, whatever I do, my people must be free to go or do. You +have your duty to your family. I have my duty to mine!" + +He bowed his head quietly in assent. She looked at the struggle +depicted in the lines of his face with eyes in which, strangely enough, +was much pity, but no unhappiness or doubt. Could it be that she was so +sure of the result? + +At last he raised his head slowly and turned to her with an air of +decision. + +"Mary----" he began. + +At that moment there became audible a sudden rattle of stones below the +Rock, and at the same instant a harsh voice broke in rudely upon their +conversation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE CLAIM JUMPERS + + +Bennington instinctively put his finger on his lips to enjoin silence, +and peered cautiously over the edge of the dike. Perhaps he was glad +that this diversion had occurred to postpone even for a short time the +announcement of a decision it had cost him so much to make. Perhaps he +recognised the voice. + +Three men were clambering a trifle laboriously over the broken rocks at +the foot of the dike, swearing a little at their unstable footing, but +all apparently much in earnest in their conversation. Even as +Bennington looked they came to a halt, and then sank down each on a +convenient rock, talking interestedly. One was Old Mizzou, one was the +man Arthur, the third was a stranger whom Bennington had never seen. + +The latter had hardly the air of the country. + +He was a dapper little man dressed in a dark gray bob-tailed cutaway, +and a brown derby hat, which was pushed far back on his head. His face, +however, was keen and alert and brown, all of which characteristics +indicated an active Western life at no very remote day. The words which +had so powerfully arrested Bennington de Laney's attention were +delivered by Old Mizzou to this stranger. + +"Thar!" the old man had said, "ain't that Crazy Hoss Lode 'bout as +good-lookin' a lead as they make 'em?" + +"So, so; so, so;" replied the man in the derby in a high voice. "Your +vein is a fissure vein all right enough, and you've got a good wide +lead. If it holds up in quality, I don't know but what you're right." + +"I shows you them assays of McPherson's, don't I?" argued Mizzou, "an' +any quartz in this kentry that assays twenty-four dollars ain't no ways +cheap." + +This speech was so significantly in line with Bennington's surmise that +he caught his breath and drew back cautiously out of sight, but still +in such a position that he could hear plainly every word uttered by the +group below. The girl was watching him with bright, interested eyes. + +"Listen carefully!" he whispered, bringing his mouth close to her ear. +"I think there's some sort of plot here." + +She nodded ready comprehension, and they settled themselves to hear the +following conversation: + +"I saw the assay," replied the stranger's voice to Mizzou's last +statement, "but who's this McPherson? How do I know the assays are all +right?" + +"Why, he's that thar professer at th' School of Mines," expostulated +Mizzou. + +"Oh, yes!" cried the stranger, as though suddenly enlightened. "If +those are his assays, they're all right. Let's see them again." + +There followed a rustling of papers. + +"Well, I've looked over your layout," went on the stranger after a +moment, "and pretty thoroughly in the last few days. I know what you've +got here. Now what's your proposition?" + +There was a pause. + +"I knows you a good while, Slayton----" began Mizzou, but was +interrupted almost immediately by a third voice, that of Arthur. "The +point is this," said the latter sharply, "Davidson here is in a +position to give you possession of this group o' claims, but he ain't +in a position to appear in th' transaction. How are you goin' to +purtect him an' me so we gets something out of it?" + +"Wait a minute," put in the stranger, "I want to ask a few questions +myself. These claims belong to the Holy Smoke Company now, don't they?" + +"Well, that's the idea." + +"Are either of you the agent of that Company?" + +"Not directly, perhaps." + +"Are you indirectly?" + +"Seems to me you haven't got any call t' look into that, if we +guarantee t' give you good title." + +"How do I know you can give me good title?" + +"Ain't I tellin' you so?" + +"Yes, but why should I believe you?" + +"You shouldn't, unless you've got sense enough to see that we ain't +gettin' you 'way up here, an' we ain't living round these parts a +couple of years on a busted proposition." + +The stranger evidently debated this. + +"How would it be if you took equal shares with me on the claims, your +shares to be paid from the earnings? That would be fair all round. You +would get nothing unless the title was good. I would risk no more than +you did," he suggested. + +"Isn't I tellin' yo' I don't appear a tall in this yere transaction?" +objected Mizzou. + +The stranger laughed a little. + +"I can see through a millstone," he said. "Why don't you old +turtlebacks come out of your shells and play square? You've got some +shady game on here that you're working underhand. Spin your yarn and +I'll tell you what I think of it." + +"How do I know you don't leave us out a'ter we tells you," objected +Mizzou, returning to his original idea. + +"You don't!" answered the stranger impatiently, "you don't! But it +seems to me if you expect to get anything out of a shady transaction, +you've got to risk something." + +"That's right," put in Arthur, "that's right! 'Nuff said! Now, Slayton, +we'll agree to git you full legal control of these yere claims if +you'll develop them at your expense, an' gin Davidson and me a third +interest between us fer our influence. That's our proposition, an' that +goes. If you don't play squar', I knows how t' make ye." + +"Spin your yarn," repeated the stranger quietly. "I'll agree to give +you and Davidson a third interest, _provided_ I take hold of the thing +at all." + +"An' Jack Slayton," put in Mizzou threateningly, "if you don't play us +squar', I swar I'll shoot ye like a dog!" + +"Oh, stow that, Davidson," rejoined the stranger in an irritated voice; +"that rot don't do any good. I know you, and you know me. I never went +back on a game yet, and you know it." + +"I does know it, Jack!" came up Davidson's voice repentantly, "but this +is a big deal, an' y' can't be too careful!" + +"All right, all right," the stranger responded "Now tell us your +scheme. How can you get hold of the property?" + +"By jumping the claims," replied Arthur calmly. There ensued a short +pause. Then: + +"Don't be a fool," exclaimed Slayton with contempt; "this is no hold-up +country. You can't drive a man off his property with a gun." + +"I knows that. These claims can be 'jumped' quiet and legal." + +"How?" + +"They ain't be'n a stroke of assessment work done on 'em since we came. +Th' Company's title's gone long ago. They lost their job last January. +Them claims is open to any one who cares to have 'em." + +The stranger uttered a long whistle. Old Mizzou chuckled cunningly. "I +has charge of them claims from th' time they quits work on 'em 'till +now. They ain't be'n a pick raised on 'em. Anybody could a-jumped 'em +any time since las' January." + +"But how about the Company?" asked Slayton. "How did you fool them?" + +"Oh, I sends 'em bills fer work reg'lar enough! And I didn't throw +away th' money neither!" + +"Yes, that'd be easy enough. But how about the people around here? Why +haven't they jumped the claims long ago?" + +"Wall, I argues about this a-way. These yere gents sees I has charge, +an' they says to themselves, 'Ole Davidson takes care of them +assessment works all right,' an' so they never thinks it's worth while +t' see whether it is done or not." + +"You trusted to their thinking you were performing your duties?" + +"Thet's it." + +"Well, it was a pretty big risk!" + +"Ev'rything t' gain an' nothin' t' lose," quoted Old Mizzou +comfortably. + +"How about this new man the Company has out here--de Laney? Is he in +this deal too?" + +"Oh, him!" said Davidson with vast contempt. "He don' know enough t' +dodge a brick! I tells him th' assessment work is all done. He believes +it, an' never looks t' see. I gets him fooled so easy it's shore +funny." + +"Hold on!" put in Slayton sharply. "I'm not so sure you aren't liable +there somewhere. Of course your failure to do the assessment work while +you were alone here was negligence, but that is all. The Company could +fire you for failing to do your duty, but they couldn't prove any fraud +against you. But when this de Laney came along it changed things." + +"How is that?" + +"Well, you told him the assessment work had been done, in so many +words, didn't you? The Company can prove that you were using your +official information to deceive him for the purposes of fraud. In other +words, you were an officer of the Company, and you deceived another +officer in your official capacity. I don't know but you'd be liable to +a criminal action." + +"Not on your tin-type," said Old Mizzou with confidence. + +"Have you looked it up?" + +"I does better than that. At that point I shore becomes subtle. _I +resigns from th' Company!_ A'ter that I talks assessment work. I tells +him advice, jest as a friend. If he believes th' same, an' it ain't so, +why thet's unfort'nit, but they can't do anythin' t' me. I'm jest an +outsider. He is responsible to th' Company, an' if he wants +information, he ought to go to th' books, and not to frien's who may +deceive him." + +"Davidson, you're a genius!" exclaimed the stranger heartily. + +"I tells you I becomes subtle," acknowledged the old man with just +pride. "But now you sees it ain't delikit that my name appears in th' +case a tall. Folks is so suspicious these yere days, that if I has a +share, and Arthur yere has a share, they says p'rhaps we has this yere +scheme in view right along. But if Slayton gets them lapsed claims by +hisself, Slayton bein' a stranger, they thinks how fortinit that +Slayton is t' git onto it, and they puts pore Ole Mizzou down as +becomin' fergitful in his old age." + +The stranger laughed. + +"It's easy," he remarked. "We get them for nothing, and you can bet +your sweet life I'll push 'em through for all there is in it. Why, +boys, you're rich! You won't have anything more to do the rest of your +mortal days, unless you want to." + +"I ain't seekin' no manual employment," observed Mizzou. + +"I'm willin' to quit work," agreed Arthur. + +"Well, you'll have a chance. Now we better hustle this thing through +lively. We've got to make our discoveries on the quiet so no one will +get on to us." + +"It ain't goin' t' take us long t' tack up them notices, now 't we've +agreed. We kin do th' most on it this evenin'. Jest lay low, that's +all." + +"Ain't de Laney going to get onto us sasshaying off with a lot of +notices?" + +"If he does," remarked Old Mizzou grimly, "I knows a dark hole whar we +retires that young man for th' day! If it comes t' that, though, you +got t' tend to it, Slayton. I ain't showin' in this deal y' know." + +The stranger laughed unpleasantly. + +"You show me the hole and I'll take care of Mr. man," he agreed. He +laughed again. "By the way, it strikes me that fellow's going to run up +against a good deal of tribulation before he gets through." + +"Wall, thet thar Comp'ny ain't goin' to raise his pay when they finds +it out," agreed Mizzou. "Thet Bishop, he gets tolerable anxious 'bout +them assessment works now, and writes frequent. I got a whole bunch of +his letters up t' camp that I keeps for th' good of his health. Ain't +no wise healthy t' worry 'bout business, you know." + +"Wonder th' little idiot didn't miss his mail," growled Arthur. + +"Oh, I coaxes him on with th' letters from his mammy and pappy. They's +harmless enough." + +The three men fell into a discussion of various specimens of quartz +which they took from their pockets, and, after what seemed to be an +interminable time, arose and moved slowly down the hill. + +The girl looked at her companion with wide-open eyes. "Ben!" she +gasped, "what have you done?" + +"Made a fool of myself," he responded curtly. + +"What are you going to do about it?" + +"I don't know." + +He knit his brows deeply. She cast about for an expedient. + +"I wish I knew more about mining!" she cried. "I know there is some way +to get legal possession of a claim by patenting it, but I don't know +how you do it." + +He did not reply. + +"There must be some way out of this," she went on, all alert. "They +haven't done anything yet. Why don't you go down to camp and inquire?" + +"Every man would be in the hills in less than an hour. I couldn't trust +them," he replied brusquely. + +"Oh, I know!" she cried with relief. "You must hunt up Jim. He knows +all about those things, and you could rely on him." + +"Jim? What Jim?" + +"Jim Fay. Oh, that's just it! Run, Ben; go at once; don't wait a +minute!" + +"I want nothing whatever to do with that man," he said deliberately. +"He has insulted me at every opportunity. He has treated me in a manner +that was even more than insulting every time we have met. If I were +dying, and he had but to turn his head toward me to save me, I would +not ask him to do so!" + +"Oh, don't be foolish, Ben!" cried she, wringing her hands in despair. +"Don't let your pride stand in your way! Do you not realize the +disgrace this will be to you--to lose all these rich claims just by +carelessness? Do you realize that it means something to me, for I have +been the reason of that carelessness. I know it! Just this once, forget +all he has done to you. You can trust him. Don't be afraid of that. +Tell him that I sent you, if you don't want to trust him on your own +account----" she broke off. "Where are you going?" she asked anxiously. + +"To do something," he answered, shutting his teeth together with a +snap. + +"Will you see Jim?" she begged, following him to the edge of the Rock +as he swung himself down the tree. + +"No!" he said, without looking back. + +After he disappeared--in the direction of the Holy Smoke camp, as she +noticed--she descended rapidly to the ground and hurried, sobbing +excitedly, away toward Spanish Gulch. She was all alive with distress. +She had never realized until the moment of his failure how much she had +loved this man. Near the village she paused, bathed her eyes in the +brook, and, assuming an air of deliberation and calmness, began making +inquiries as to the whereabouts of Jim Fay. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +BENNINGTON PROVES GAME + + +Bennington de Laney sat on the pile of rocks at the entrance to the +Holy Smoke shaft. Across his knees lay the thirty-calibre rifle. His +face was very white and set. Perhaps he was thinking of his return to +New York in disgrace, of his interview with Bishop, of his inevitable +meeting with a multitude of friends, who would read in the daily papers +the accounts of his incompetence--criminal incompetence, they would +call it. The shadows were beginning to lengthen across the slope of the +hill. Up the gulch cow bells tinkled, up the hill birds sang, and +through the little hollows twilight flowed like a vapour. The wild +roses on the hillside were blooming--late in this high altitude. The +pines were singing their endless song. But Bennington de Laney was +looking upon none of these softer beauties of the Hills. Rather he +watched intently the lower gulch with its flood-wracked, water-twisted +skeleton laid bare. Could it be that in the destruction there figured +forth he caught the symbol of his own condition? That the dreary gloom +of that ruin typified the chaos of sombre thoughts that occupied his +own remorseful mind? If so, the fancy must have absorbed him. The +moments slipped by one by one, the shadows grew longer, the bird songs +louder, and still the figure with the rifle sat motionless, his face +white and still, watching the lower gulch. + +Or could it be that Bennington de Laney waited for some one, and that +therefore his gaze was so fixed? It would seem so. For when the beat of +hoofs became audible, the white face quickened into alertness, and the +motionless figure stirred somewhat. + +The rider came in sight, rising and falling in a steady, unhesitating +lope. He swung rapidly to the left, and ascended the knoll. Opposite +the shaft of the Holy Smoke lode he reined in his bronco and +dismounted. The rider was Jim Fay. + +Bennington de Laney did not move. He looked up at the newcomer with +dull resignation. "He takes it hard, poor fellow!" thought Fay. + +"Well, what's to be done?" asked the Easterner in a strained voice. "I +suppose you know all about it, or you wouldn't be here." + +"Yes, I know all about it," said Fay gently. "You mustn't take it so +hard. Perhaps we can do something. We'll be able to save one or two +claims, any way, if we're quick about it." + +"I've heard something about patenting claims," went on de Laney in the +same strange, dull tones; "could that be done?" + +"No. You have to do five hundred dollars' worth of work, and advertise +for sixty days. There isn't time." + +"That settles it. I don't know what we can do then." + +"Well, that depends. I've come to help do something. We've got to get +an everlasting hustle on us, that's all; and I'm afraid we are +beginning a little behindhand in the race. You ought to have hunted me +up at once." + +"I don't see what there is to do," repeated Bennington thickly. + +"Don't you? The assessment work hasn't been done--that's the idea, +isn't it?--and so the claims have reverted to the Government. They are +therefore open to location, as in the beginning, and that is just what +Davidson and that crowd are going to do to them. Well, they're just as +much open to us. We'll just _jump our own claims!_" + +"What!" cried the Easterner, excited. + +"Well, relocate them ourselves, if that suits you better." + +Bennington's dull eyes began to light up. + +"So get a move on you," went on Fay; "hustle out some paper so we can +make location notices. Under the terms of a relocation, we can use the +old stakes and 'discovery,' so all we have to do is to tack up a new +notice all round. That's the trouble. That gang's got their notices all +written, and I'm afraid they've got ahead of us. Come on!" + +Bennington, who had up to this time remained seated on the pile of +stones, seemed filled with a new and great excitement. He tottered to +his feet, throwing his hands aloft. + +"Thank God! Thank God!" he cried, catching his breath convulsively. + +Fay turned to look at him curiously. "We aren't that much out of the +woods," he remarked; "the other gang'll get in their work, don't you +fret." + +"They never will, they never will!" cried the Easterner exultantly. +"They can't. We'll locate 'em all!" The tears welled over his eyes and +ran down his cheeks. + +"What do you mean?" asked Fay, beginning to fear the excitement had +unsettled his companion's wits. + +"Because they're there!" cried Bennington, pointing to the mouth of the +shaft near which he had been sitting. "Davidson, Slayton, +Arthur--they're all there, and they can't get away! I didn't know what +else to do. I had to do something!" + +Fay cast an understanding glance at the young man's rifle, and sprang +to the entrance of the shaft. As though in direct corroboration of his +speech, Fay could perceive, just emerging from the shadow, the sinister +figure of the man Arthur creeping cautiously up the ladder, evidently +encouraged to an attempt to escape by the sound of the conversation +above. The Westerner snatched his pistol from his holster and +presented it down the shaft. + +"Kindly return!" he commanded in a soft voice. The upward motion of the +dim figure ceased, and in a moment it had faded from view in the +descent. Fay waited a moment. "In five minutes," he announced in louder +tones, "I'm going to let loose this six-shooter down that shaft. I +should advise you gentlemen to retire to the tunnel." He peered down +again intently. A sudden clatter and thud behind him startled him. He +looked around. Bennington had fallen at full length across the stones, +and his rifle, falling, had clashed against the broken ore. + +Fay, with a slight shrug of contempt at such womanish weakness, ran to +his assistance. He straightened the Easterner out and placed his folded +coat under his head. "He'll come around in a minute," he muttered. He +glanced toward the gulch and then back to the shaft. "Can't leave that +lay-out," he went on. He bent over the prostrate figure and began to +loosen the band of his shirt. Something about the boy's clothing +attracted his attention, so, drawing his knife, he deftly and gently +ripped away the coat and shirt. Then he arose softly to his feet and +bared his head. + +"I apologize to you," said he, addressing the recumbent form; "you are +game." + +In the fleshy part of the naked shoulder was a small round hole, +clotted and smeared with blood. + +Jim Fay stooped and examined the wound closely. The bullet had entered +near the point of the shoulder, but a little below, so that it had +merely cut a secant through the curve of the muscle. If it had struck a +quarter of an inch to the left it would have gouged a furrow; a quarter +of an inch beyond that would have caused it to miss entirely. Fay saw +that the hurt itself was slight, and that the Easterner had fainted +more because of loss of blood than from the shock. This determined to +his satisfaction, he moved quickly to the mouth of the shaft. "Way +below!" he cried in a sharp voice, and discharged his revolver twice +down the opening. Then he stole noiselessly away, and ran at speed to +the kitchen of the shack, whence he immediately returned with a pail of +water and a number of towels. He set these down, and again peered down +the shaft. "Way below!" he repeated, and dropped down a sizable chunk +of ore. Apparently satisfied that the prisoners were well warned, he +gave his whole attention to his patient. + +He washed the wound carefully. Then he made a compress of one of the +towels, and bound it with the other two. Looking up, he discovered +Bennington watching him intently. + +"It's all right!" he assured the latter in answer to the question in +his eyes. "Nothing but a scratch. Lie still a minute till I get this +fastened, and you can sit up and watch the rat hole while I get you +some clothes." + +In another moment or so the young man was propped up against an empty +ore "bucket," his shoulder bound, and his hand slung comfortably in a +sling from his neck. + +"There you are," said Jim cheerily. "Now you take my six-shooter and +watch that aggregation till I get back. They won't come out any, but +you may as well be sure." + +He handed Bennington his revolver, and moved off in the direction of +the cabin, whistling cheerfully. The young man looked after him +thoughtfully. Nothing could have been more considerate than the +Westerner's manner, nothing could have been kinder than his prompt +action--Bennington saw that his pony, now cropping the brush near at +hand, was black with sweat--nothing could have been more +straightforward than his assistance in the matter of the claims. And +yet Bennington de Laney was not satisfied. He felt he owed the sudden +change of front to a word spoken in his behalf by the girl. This was a +strange influence she possessed, thus to alter a man's attitude +entirely by the mere voicing of a wish. + +The Westerner returned carrying a loose shirt and a coat, which he drew +entire over the injured shoulder, which left one sleeve empty. + +"I guess that fixes you," said he with satisfaction. + +"Look here," put in Bennington suddenly, "you've been mighty good to me +in all this. If you hadn't come along as you did, these fellows would +have nabbed me sooner or later, and probably I'd have lost the claims +any way. I feel I owe you a lot. But I want you to know before you go +any further that that don't square us. You've had it in for me ever +since I came out here, and you've made it mighty unpleasant for me. I +can't forget that all at once. I want to tell you plainly that, +although I am grateful enough, I know just why you have done all this. +It is because _she_ asked you to. And knowing that, I can't accept what +you do for me as from a friend, for I don't feel friendly toward you in +the least." His face flushed painfully. "I'm not trying to insult you +or be boorish," he said; "I just want you to understand how I feel +about it. And now that you know, I suppose you'd better let the matter +go, although I'm much obliged to you for fixing me up." + +He glanced at his shoulder. + +Fay listened to this speech quietly and with patience. "What do you +intend to do?" he asked, when the other had quite finished. + +"I don't know yet. If you'll say nothing down below--and I'm sure you +will not--I'll contrive some way of keeping this procession down the +hole, and of feeding them, and then I'll relocate the claims myself." + +"With one arm?" + +"Yes, with one arm!" cried Bennington fiercely; "with no arms at all, +if need be!" he broke off suddenly, with the New Yorker's ingrained +instinct of repression. "I beg your pardon. I mean I'll do as well as I +can, of course." + +"How about the woman--Arthur's wife? She'll give you trouble." + +"She has locked herself in her cabin already. I will assist her to +continue the imprisonment." + +Fay laughed outright. "And you expect, with one arm and wounded, to +feed four people, keep them in confinement, and at the same time to +relocate eighteen claims lying scattered all over the hills! Well, +you're optimistic, to say the least." + +"I'll do the best I can," repeated Bennington doggedly. + +"And you won't ask help of a friend ready to give it?" + +"Not as a friend." + +"Well," Fay chuckled, apparently not displeased, "you're an obstinate +young man, or rather a pig-headed young man, but I don't know as that +counts against you. I'll help you out, anyway--if not as a friend, then +as an enemy. You see, I have my marching orders from someone else, and +you haven't anything to do with it." + +Bennington bowed coldly, but his immense relief flickered into his face +in spite of himself. "What should we do first?" he asked formally. + +"Sit here and wait for the kids," responded Jim. + +"Who are the kids?" + +"Friends of mine--trustworthy." + +Jim rearranged Bennington's coverings and lit a pipe. "Tell us about +it," said he. + +"There isn't much to tell. I knew I had to do something, so I just held +them up and made them get down the shaft. I didn't know what I was +going to do next, but I was glad to have them out of the way to get +time to think." + +"Who plugged you?" inquired Fay, motioning with the mouthpiece of his +pipe toward the wounded shoulder. + +"That was Arthur. He had a little gun in his coat pocket and he shot +from inside the pocket. I'd made them drop all the guns they had, I +thought." + +"Did you take a crack at him then?" asked Fay, interested. + +"Oh, no. I just covered him and made him shell out. As a matter of fact +I don't believe any one of them knew I was hit." + +Fay smoked on in silence, glancing from time to time with satisfaction +at the youth opposite. During the passage of these events the day had +not far advanced. The shadow of Harney had not yet reached out to the +edge of the hills. + +"Hullo! The kids!" said Fay suddenly. + +Two pedestrians emerged from the lower gulch and bent their steps +toward the camp. As they came nearer, Bennington, with a gasp of +surprise, recognised the Leslies. + +The sprightly youths were dressed just alike, in knickerbockers and +Norfolk jackets of dark brown plaid, and small college caps to +match--an outfit which Bennington had always believed would attract too +vivid attention in this country. As they came nearer he saw that the +jackets were fitted with pockets of great size. In the pockets were +sketch books and bulging articles. They caught sight of the two figures +on the ore heap simultaneously. + +"Behold our attentive host!" cried Jeems. "He is now in the act of +receiving us with all honour!" + +Bennington's face fairly shone with pleasure at the encounter. "Hullo +fellows! Hullo there!" he cried out delightedly again and again, and +rose slowly to his feet. This disclosed the fact of his injury, and the +brothers ran forward, with real sympathy and concern expressed on their +lively countenances. There ensued a rapid fire of questions and +answers. The Leslies proved to be already familiar with the details of +the attempt to jump the claims, and understood at once Fay's brief +account of the present situation, over which they rejoiced in the +well-known Leslie fashion. They exploded in genuine admiration of +Bennington's adventure, and praised that young man enthusiastically. +Bennington could feel, even before this, that he stood on a different +footing than formerly with these self-reliant young men. They treated +him as familiarly as ever, but with a new respect. The truth is, their +astuteness in reading character, which is as essentially an attribute +of the artistic temperament in black and white as in words and phrases, +had shown them already that their old acquaintance had grown from boy +to man since last they had met. They knew this even before they learned +of its manifestation. So astounding was the change that they gave it +credit, perhaps, for being more thorough than it was. After the +situation had been made plain, Bennington reverted to the +unexpectedness of their appearance. + +"But you haven't told me yet how you happen to be here," he suggested. +"I'd as soon have expected to see Ethel Henry coming up the gulch!" + +"Didn't you get our letters?" cried Bert in astonishment. + +"No, I haven't received any letters. Did you write?" + +"Did we write! Well, I should think so! We wrote three times, telling +you we were coming and when to expect us. Jeems and I wondered why you +didn't meet us. That explains it. Seems funny you didn't get any of +those letters!" + +"No, I don't believe it is so funny after all," responded Bennington, +who had been thinking it over. "I remember now that Davidson told the +others he had been intercepting my letters from the Company, and I +suppose he got yours too." + +"That's it, of course. I'll have to interview that Davidson later. +Well, we used to train around here off and on, as I told you once, and +this year Jeems and I thought we'd do our summer sketching here, and +sort of revive old times. So we packed up and came." + +"I'm mighty glad you came, anyway," replied Bennington fervently. + +"So'm I. We're just in time to help foil the villain. As foilers Jeems +and I are an artistic success. We have studied foiling under the best +masters in the Bowery and Sixth Avenue theatres." + +"Where's Bill?" asked Jim suddenly. + +"Will be around in the morning. You're to report progress at once. +Didn't dare to come up until after the row. Dreadful anxious though. +Would have come if Jeems and I hadn't forbidden it." + +Bennington wondered vaguely who Bill might be, but he was beginning to +feel a little tired from the excitement and his wound, so he said +nothing. + +"The next thing is grub," remarked Fay, rising and gathering his pony's +reins. "I'll mosey up to the shack and see about supper. You fellows +can sit around and talk until I get organized." + +He turned to move away, leading his horse. + +"Hold on a minute, Jim," called Bert. "You might lend me your bronc, +and I'll lope down and set Bill's mind easy. It won't take long." + +"Good scheme!" approved Jim heartily. "That's thoughtful of you, +Bertie!" + +He dropped the reins where he stood, and the pony, with the usual +well-trained Western docility, hung his head and halted. Bert arose and +looked down the shaft. + +"Supper will be served shortly, gentlemen," he observed suavely. He +turned toward the pony. + +"Bert," called Bennington in a different voice, "did you say you were +going down the gulch?" + +"Yes." + +"Do you want to do something for me?" + +"Why, surely. What is it?" + +"Would you just as soon stop at the Lawtons' and tell Miss Lawton for +me that it's all right! You'll find the Lawton house----" + +"Yes, I know where the Lawton house is," interrupted Bert, "but Miss +Lawton, you said?" + +"Don't you remember, Bert," put in James, "there is a kid there--Maude, +or something of that sort?" + +"No, no, not Maude," persisted Bennington, still more bashfully. "I +mean Miss Lawton, the young lady." + +He felt that both the youths were looking keenly at him with dawning +wonder and delight. "Hold on, Bert," interposed James, as the other was +about to exclaim, "do you mean, Ben, the one you've been giving such a +rush for the last two months?" + +"Miss Lawton and I are very good friends," replied Bennington with +dignity, wondering whence James had his information. + +Bert drew in his breath sharply, and opened his mouth to speak. + +"Hold on, Bert," interposed James again. "There are possibilities in +this. Don't destroy artistic development by undue haste. What did you +call the young lady, Ben?" + +"Miss Lawton, of course!" + +"Daughter of Bill Lawton?" + +"Why, yes." + +"Oh, my eye!" ejaculated James. + +"And you have eyes in your head!" he cried after a moment. "You have +ears in your head! Blamed if you haven't everything in your head but +brains! She's a good one! I didn't appreciate the subtlety of that +woman before. Ben, you everlasting idiot, do you mean to tell me that +you've seen that girl every day for the last two months, and don't know +yet that she's too good to belong to Bill Lawton?" + +Bert began to laugh hysterically. + +"What do you mean!" cried Bennington. + +"What I say. _She_ isn't Bill Lawton's daughter. Her name isn't Lawton +at all. O glory! He don't even know her name!" James in his turn went +into a fit of laughing. In uncontrollable excitement Bennington seized +him with his sound hand. + +"What is it? Tell me! What is her name, then?" + +"O Lord! Don't squeeze so! I'll tell you! Letup!" + +James dashed the back of his hand across his eyes. + +"What is her name?" repeated Bennington fiercely. + +"Wilhelmina Fay. We call her Bill for short." + +"And Jim Fay?" + +"Is her brother." + +"And the Lawtons?" + +"They board there." + +Across Bennington's mind flashed vaguely a suspicion that turned him +faint with mortification. + +"Who is this Jim Fay?" he asked. + +"He's Jim Fay--James Leicester Fay, of Boston." + +"Not----" + +"Yes, exactly. The Boston Fays." + +Bert swung himself into the saddle. "Better not say anything to Bill +about the young 'un's shoulder," called after him the ever-thoughtful +James. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +MASKS OFF + + +Now that it was all explained, it seemed to Bennington de Laney to be +ridiculously simple. He wondered how he could have been so blind. For +the moment, however, all other emotions were swallowed up in intense +mortification over the density he had displayed, and the ridiculous +light in which he must have appeared to all the actors in the comedy. +His companion perceived this, and kindly hastened to relieve it. + +"You're wondering how it all happened," said he, "but you don't want to +ask about it. I'm going to tell you the story of your life. You see, +Bert and I knew the Fays very well in Boston, and we knew also that +they were out here in the Hills. That's what tickled us so when you +said you were coming out to this very place. You know yourself, Ben, +that you were pretty green when you were in New York--you must know it, +because you have got over it so nicely since--and it struck us, after +you talked so much about the 'Wild West,' that it would be a shame if +you didn't get some of it. So we wrote Jim that you were coming, and to +see to it that you had a time." + +Jim chuckled a little. "From his letters, I guess you had it. He wrote +about that horse he sprung on you, and the time they lynched you, and +all the rest of it, and we thought we had done pretty well, especially +since Jim wrote he thought you weren't half bad, and had come through +in good shape. He wrote, too, that you had run against Bill, and that +Bill was fooling you up in some way--way unspecified. He seemed to be a +little afraid that Bill was trifling with your young affections--how is +it Ben, anyway?--but he said that Bill was very haughty on the subject, +and as he'd never been able to do anything with her before, he didn't +believe he'd have much success if he should try now. I suggested that +Bill might get in a little deep herself," went on James, watching his +listener's face keenly, "but Bert seemed inclined to the opinion that +any one as experienced as Bill was perfectly able to take care of +herself anywhere. She's a mighty fine girl, Ben, old man," suddenly +concluded this startling youth, holding out his hand, "and I wish you +every success in the world in getting her!" + +"Thank you, Jeems," replied Bennington simply, without attempting to +deny the state of affairs. "I'm sure I'm glad of your good wishes, but +I'm afraid I haven't any show now." He sighed deeply. + +"I'll give an opinion on that after I see Bill again," observed the +artist sagely. + +"It always struck me as being queer that two of the most refined people +about here should happen to be living in the same house," commented +Bennington, only just aware that it had so struck him. + +"Did it, indeed?" said Leslie drolly. "You're just bursting with +sagacity now, aren't you? And your Sherlock-Holmes intellect is +seething with conjecture. The lover's soul is far above the sordid +earthly considerations which interest us ordinary mortals, but I'll bet +a hat you are wondering how it comes that a Boston girl is out here +without any more restraint on her actions than a careless brother who +doesn't bother himself, and why she's out here at all, and a few things +like that. 'Fess up." + +"Well," acknowledged Bennington a trifle reluctantly, "of course it is +a little out of the ordinary, but then it's all right, somehow, I'll +swear." + +"All right! Of course it's all right! They haven't any father or +mother, you know, and they are independent of action, as you've no +doubt noticed. Bill kept house for Jim for some time--and they used to +keep a great house, I tell you," said James, smacking his lips in +recollection. "Bert and I used to visit there a good deal. That's why +they call me Jeems--to distinguish me from Jim. Then Jim got tired of +doing nothing--they possess everlasting rocks--you know their lamented +dad was a sort of amateur Croesus--and he decided to monkey with mines. +Bert and I were here one summer, so Bill and Jim just pulled up stakes +and came along too. They have been here ever since. They're both true +sports and like the life, and all that; and, besides, Jim has kept busy +monkeying with mining speculation. They're the salt of the earth, that +pair, if they _do_ worry poor old Boston to death with their ways of +doing things. That's one reason I like 'em so much. Society has fits +over their doings, but it can't get along without them." + +"The Fays are a pretty good family, aren't they?" inquired Bennington. +He was irresistibly impelled to ask this question. + +"Best going. Mayflower, William the Conqueror, and all that rot. You +must know of the Boston Fays." + +"I do. That is, I've heard of them; but I didn't know whether they were +the same." + +Jeems perceived that the topic interested the young fellow, so he +descanted at length concerning the Fays, their belongings, and their +doings. Time passed rapidly. Bennington was surprised to see Jim coming +down to them through the afterglow of sunset announcing vociferously +that the meal was at last prepared. + +"I've fed the old lady," he announced, "and unlocked her. She doesn't +know what's up anyway. She just sits there like a graven image, scared +to death. She doesn't know a relocation from a telegraph pole. I told +her to get a move on her and fix us up some bunks, and I guess she's +at it now." + +They consulted as to the best means of guarding the prisoners. It was +finally agreed that Leslie should stand sentinel until the others had +finished supper. + +"I want to watch the effect of this light on the hills," he announced +positively, "and I'm not hungry, and Jim ought to cool off before +coming out into the air, and Ben's shoulder ought to be taken care of. +Get along with ye!" + +Bennington accompanied Jim to the meal very cheerfully. The facts as to +the latter's persecutions remained the same, but in some way they did +not hold the same proportions as heretofore. The mere item that Jim Fay +was Mary's brother, instead of her lover, made all the difference in +the world. He chattered in a lively fashion concerning the method of +work to be adopted. Suddenly he pulled himself up short. + +"I think I must beg your pardon," he said. "I heard about it all from +Jim Leslie. I have been very green, and you were quite right. If you +still want to do so, let's go into this together as friends." + +"No pardon coming to me," responded Fay heartily. "I've been a little +tough on you occasionally, that I'll admit, and if I've done too much, +I'm sure I beg _your_ pardon. I saw you had the right stuff in you that +day when you stuck to the horse until you rode him, and I've always +liked you first-rate since then. And I wouldn't worry about this last +matter. You were green to the country, and were put down here without +definite instructions. You trusted Davidson, of course, and got fooled +in it; but then you just followed Bishop's lead in that. He'd been +trusting Davidson before you got here, and if he hadn't trusted him +right along, you can bet you'd have had your directions from A to Z. He +was as much to blame as you were, and you'll find that he knows it." + +"I'm afraid you can't make me feel any better about that," objected +Bennington, shaking his head despondently. + +"Well, you'll feel better after a time, and anyway there's no actual +harm done." + +At this moment Bert Leslie entered. + +"Bill's tickled to death," he announced. "She says she's coming up +first thing in the morning. She wanted to come right off and cook +supper, but I wouldn't let her. She couldn't very well stay here all +night, and it's pretty late now. What you got here? Pork? Coffee? +Murphies?" + +He sat down and began to eat hungrily. Jim arose to relieve the +sentinel at the mouth of the shaft, at the same time advising de Laney +to go to bed as soon as possible. + +"You're tired," he said, "and need rest. Wet that compress well with +Pond's Extract, and we'll dress it again in the morning." + +In the kitchen he found the strange sombre woman sitting bolt upright +in silence, her arms folded rigidly across her flat bosom. She looked +straight in front of her, and rocked slowly to and fro on her chair. + +"You mustn't worry, Mrs. Arthur," consoled Fay kindly, pausing for a +moment. "There isn't going to be any trouble. It's just a little matter +of mining law. We'll have to keep your husband locked up for a few +days, but he won't be harmed." + +The woman made no reply. Fay looked at her sharply again, and passed +out. + +"Jeems," he directed that individual at the mouth of the shaft, "go get +your grub. Send the kid to bed right off, and then you and Bert come +down here and we'll fix up these prairie dogs of ours down the hole." + +Jeems and his brother therefore helped the wounded hero to bed, and +left him to a much-needed slumber; after which they returned to the +spot of light in the darkness which marked the glow of Fay's pipe. That +capable individual issued directions. First of all they lowered, by +means of a light cord, food and water to their prisoners. The latter +maintained a sullen silence, and it was only by the lightening of the +burden at the end of the line that those above knew their provisions +had been appropriated. Then followed blankets. The Leslies were +strongly in favour of as uncomfortable a confinement as possible, and +so disapproved of blankets, but Fay insisted. After that the brothers +manned the windlass and let Jim down in a bowline about twenty feet, +while he detached and removed two lengths of the shaft ladder. This +left no means of ascent, as the walls of the shaft were smoothly +timbered; but, to make matters sure, they covered the mouth with inch +thick boards on which they piled large chunks of ore. + +"You don't suppose they'll smother?" suggested Bert. + +"Not much! There's only three of them, and often men drilling will stay +down ten or twelve hours at a time without using up the air." + +"Sweet dreams, gentlemen!" called the irrepressible Jeems in farewell. + +"There's one other thing," said Jim, "and then we can crawl in." + +He approached the cabin in which Arthur and his wife were accustomed to +sleep, and listened until he had satisfied himself that Mrs. Arthur was +inside. Then he softly locked the door, the key of which he had +appropriated immediately after supper, and propped shut the heavy +wooden shutter of the window. + +"No dramatic escapes in ours, thank you!" he muttered. He drew back and +surveyed his work with satisfaction. "Come on, boys, let's turn in. +To-morrow we slave." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE LAND OF VISIONS + + +Although he had retired so early, and in so exhausted a condition, +Bennington de Laney could not sleep. He had taken a slight fever, and +the wound in his shoulder was stiff and painful. For hours on end he +lay flat on his back, staring at the dim illuminations of the windows +and listening to the faint out-of-door noises or the sharper borings of +insects in the logs of the structure. His mind was not active. He lay +in a semi-torpor, whose most vivid consciousness was that of mental +discomfort and the interminability of time. + +The events of the day rose up before him, but he seemed to loathe them +merely because they had been of so active a character, and now he could +not bear to have his brain teased even with their impalpable shadow. + +Strangely enough, this altitude seemed to create a certain dead +polarity between him and them. They lay sullenly outside his brain, +repelled by this dead polarity, and he looked at them languidly, +against the dim illumination of the window, with a dull joy that they +could not come near him and enter the realm of his thoughts. All this +was the fever. + +In a little time these events became endowed with more palpable bodies +which moved. The square of semilucent window faded into something +indescribable, and that into something indescribable, and that into +something else, still indescribable. + +They moved swiftly, and things happened. He found himself suddenly in a +long gallery, half in the dusk, half in the lamplight, pacing slowly +back and forth, waiting for something, he knew not what. To him came a +bustling motherly old woman with a maid's cap on, who said, "Sure, +Master Ben, the moon is shining, and, let me tell ye, at the end of the +hall is a balcony of iron, and Miss Mary will be glad you know that +same." And at that he seemed to himself to be hunting for a coin with +which to tip her. He discovered it turned to lead between his fingers, +whereupon the old woman laughed shrilly and disappeared, and he found +himself alone on the prairie at midnight. + +His mind seemed to be filled with great thoughts which would make him +famous. Over and over again he said to himself: "The rain pours and the +people down below chuckle as they move about each under his little +umbrella of self-conceit. They look up to the mountain, saying, 'The +fool! Why looks he so high? He is lost in the mists up there, and he +might be safe and dry with us.' But the mountain has over him the arch +of the universe, and sleeps calmly in the sun of truth. Little recks he +of the clouds below, and knows not at all the little self-satisfied +fools who pity him," and he thought this was the sum of all wisdom, and +that with it would come immortality. + +Then a bell began to boom, a deep-toned bell, whose tolling was +inexpressibly solemn, and poured into his heart a sadness too deep for +sorrow. As though there dwelt an enchantment in the very sound itself, +the dark prairies shifted like a scene, and in their stead he saw, in a +cold gray twilight, a high doorway built of a cold gray stone, +rough-hewed and heavy. Through its arch passed then a file of +gray-cowled monks, their faces concealed. Each carried a torch, whose +flickering, wavering light cast weird cowled figures on the gray stone, +and in their midst was borne a bier, covered with white. And as the +deep bell boomed on through all the vision, like a subtle thrilling +presence, Bennington seemed to himself to stand, finger on lip, the +eternal custodian of the Secret of it all--the secret that each of +these cowled figures was a Man--a divine soul and a body, with ears, +and eyes, and a brain; that he had thoughts, and his life that is and +is to come was of these thoughts; that there beat hearts beneath that +gray, and that their voices must not be heeded; that in the morning +these wearied eyes awaited but the eve, and that the evening brought no +hope for a new day; that these silent, awesome beings lived within the +heavy stones alone with monotony, until the bell tolled, as now, and +they were carried through the arched doorway into the night; and, above +all, that to each there were sixty minutes in the hour, and twenty-four +hours in the day, and years and years of these days. This was the +Secret, and he was its custodian. None of the others knew of it; but +its awfulness made him sad and stern. He checked the days, he numbered +the hours, he counted the minutes rigorously lest one escape. One did +escape, and he turned back to catch it, and pursued it far away from +the stone doorway and the dull twilight, and even the sound of the +bell, off into a land where there were many hills and valleys, among +which the fugitive Minute hid elusively. And he pursued the Minute, +calling upon it to come to him, and the name by which he called it was +Mary. Then he saw that the square of the window had become yellow with +the sun, and that through it he could hear plainly the voices of the +Leslies talking in high tones. + +His brain was very clear, more so than usual, and he not only received +many impressions, and ordered them with ease and despatch, but his very +senses seemed more than ordinarily acute. He could distinguish even by +day, when the night stillness had withdrawn its favouring conditions, +the borings of the sawdust insects in the logs of the cabin. Only he +was very tired. His hands seemed a long distance away, as though it +would require an extraordinary effort of the will to lift them. So he +lay quiet and listened. + +The conversation, of which he was the eavesdropper, was carried on by +fits and starts. First a sentence would be delivered by one of the +Leslies; then would ensue a pause as though for a reply, inaudible to +any but the interlocutors themselves; then another sentence; and so on, +like a man at a telephone. After a moment's puzzling over it, +Bennington understood that Jim Leslie was talking to one of the +prisoners down the shaft. + +"You have the true sporting spirit, sir," cried the voice of Jeems. "I +honour you for it. But so philosophical a resignation, while it +inclines our souls to know more of you personally, nevertheless renders +you much less interesting in such a juncture as the present. I would +like to hear from Mr. Davidson." + +Pause. + +"That was a performance, Mr. Davidson, which I can not entirely +commend. It is fluent, to be sure, but it lacks variety. A true artist +would have interspersed those finer shades and gradations of meaning +which go to express the numerous and clashing emotions which must +necessarily agitate your venerable bosom. You surely mean more than +_damn_. _Damn_ is expressive and forceful, because capable of being +enunciated at one explosive effort of the breath, but it is monotonous +when too freely employed. To be sure, you might with some justice reply +that you had qualified said adjective strongly--but the qualification +was trite though blasphemous. And you limited it very nicely--but the +limitation to myself is unjust, as it overlooks my brother's equitable +claims to notice." + +Pause. + +"I _beg_ pardon! Kindly repeat!" + +Pause. + +"Delicious! Mr. Davidson, you have redeemed yourself. Bertie, did you +hear Mr. Davidson's last remark?" + +"No!" replied another voice. "Couldn't be bothered. What was it?" + +"Mr. Davidson, with a polished sarcasm that amounted to genius, advised +me in his picturesque vernacular 't' set thet jaw of mine goin', and +then go away an' leave it!'" + +Pause. + +"I beg you, Mr. Slayton, do not think of such a thing. I would not have +him repressed for anything in the world. As you value our future +acquaintanceship, do not end our interview. Thank you! I appreciate +your compliment, and in return will repeat that, though in a pretty +sharp game, you are a true sport. Our friend Arthur is strangely +silent. I have never met Mr. Arthur. I have heard that either his face +or his hat looks like a fried egg, but I forget for the moment which +was so characterized." + +Pause. + +"Fie, fie! Mr. Arthur. Addison, in his most intoxicated moments, would +never have used such language." + +And then the man in the cabin, lying on the bed, began to laugh in a +low tone. His laugh was not pleasant to hear. He was realizing how +funny things were to other people--things that had not been funny to +him at all. For the first time he caught a focus on his father, with +his pompous pride and his stilted diction; on his mother's social +creed. He cared as much for them as ever and his respect was as great, +but now he realized that outsiders could never understand them as he +did, and that always to others they must appear ridiculous. So he +laughed. And, too, he perceived that the world would see something +grimly humorous in his insistence on the girl's parentage, when all the +time, in the home to which he was to bring her, dwelt these unlovable, +snobbish old parents of his own. So he laughed. And he thought of how +he had been fooled, and played with, and duped, and cheated, and all +but disgraced by the very people on whom he had looked down from a +fancied superiority. And so he laughed. And as he laughed his hands +swelled up to the size of pillows, and he thought that he was dressed +in a loose garment spotted all over with great spots, and that he was +standing on a stage before these grave, silent hillmen. The light came +in through a golden-yellow square just behind them. In the front row +sat Mary, looking at him with wide-open, trusting eyes. And he was +revolving these hands like pillows around each other, trying to make +the sombre men and the wistful girl laugh with him, while over and +over certain words slipped in between his cachinnations, like stray +bird-notes through a rattle of drums. + +"I have no fresh motley for my lady's amusement," he was saying to her, +"no new philosophies to spread out for my lady's inspection, no bright +pictures to display for my lady's pleasure, and so I, like a poor +poverty-stricken minstrel whose harp has been broken, yet dare beg at +the castle gate for a crumb of my lady's bounty." At which he would +have wept, but could only laugh louder and louder. + +Then dimly he knew again he was in his own room, and he felt that +several people were moving back and forth quickly. He tried to rise, +but could not, and he knew that he was slipping back to the hall and +the solemn crowd of men. He did not want to go. He grasped convulsively +at the blanket with his sound hand, and shrieked aloud. + +"I am sick! I am sick! I am sick!" he cried louder and louder. + +Some one laid a cool hand on his forehead, and he lay quiet and smiled +contentedly. The room and the people became wraithlike. He saw them +still, but he saw through them to a reality of soft meadows and summer +skies, from which Mary leaned, resting her hand on his brow. Voices +spoke, but muffled, as though by many veils. They talked of various +things. + +"It's the mountain fever," he heard one say. "It's a wonder he escaped +it so long." + +Then the cool hand was withdrawn from his brow, and inexorably he was +hurried back into the land of visions. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +FLOWER O' THE WORLD + + +Bennington de Laney found himself lying comfortably in bed, listening +with closed eyes to a number of sounds. Of these there most impressed +him two. They were a certain rhythmical muffled beat, punctuated at +intervals by a slight rustling of paper; and a series of metallic +clicks, softened somewhat by distance. After a time it occurred to him +to open his eyes. At once he noticed two things more--that he had some +way acquired fresh white sheets for his bed, and that on a little table +near the foot of his bunk stood a vase of flowers. These two new +impressions satisfied him for some time. He brooded over them slowly, +for his brain was weak. Then he allowed his gaze to wander to the +window. From above its upper sash depended two long white curtains of +some lacelike material, freshly starched and with deep edges, ruffled +slightly in a pleasing fashion. They stirred slowly in the warm air +from the window. Bennington watched them lazily, breathing with +pleasure the balmy smell of pine, and listening to the sounds. The +clinking noises came through the open window. He knew now that they +meant the impact of sledge on drill. Some one was drilling somewhere. +His glance roved on, and rested without surprise on a girl in a rocking +chair swaying softly to and fro, and reading a book, the turning of +whose leaves had caused the rustling of paper which he had noticed +first. + +For a long time he lay silent and contented. Her fine brown hair had +been drawn back smoothly away from her forehead into a loose knot. She +was dressed in a simple gown of white--soft, and resting on the curves +of her slender figure as lightly as down on the surface of the warm +meadows. From beneath the full skirt peeped a little slippered foot, +which tapped the floor rhythmically as the chair rocked to and fro. +Finally she glanced up and discovered him locking at her. She arose and +came to the bedside, her finger on her lips. + +"You mustn't talk," she said sweetly, a great joy in her eyes. "I'm so +glad you're better." + +She left the room, and returned in a little time with a bowl of chicken +broth, which she fed him with a spoon. It tasted very good to him, and +he felt the stronger for it, but as yet his voice seemed a long +distance away. When she turned to leave the room, however, he murmured +inarticulately and attempted to stir. She came back to the bed at once. + +"I'll be back in a minute," she said gently, but seeing some look of +pleading in his eyes, she put the empty bowl and spoon on the little +table and sat down on the floor near the bed. He smiled, and then, +closing his eyes, fell asleep--outside the borders of the land of +visions, and with the music of a woman's voice haunting the last +moments of his consciousness. + +After the fever had once broken, his return to strength was rapid. +Although accompanied by delirium, and though running its full course of +weeks, the "mountain fever" is not as intense as typhoid. The +exhaustion of the vital forces is not as great, and recuperation is +easier. In two days Bennington was sitting up in bed, possessed of an +appetite that threatened to depopulate entirely the little log chicken +coop. He found that the tenancy of the camp had materially changed. +Mrs. Lawton and Miss Fay had moved in, bag and baggage--but without the +inquisitive Maude, Bennington was glad to observe. + +Mrs. Lawton, in the presence of an emergency, turned out to be helpful +in every way. She knew all about mountain fevers for one thing, and as +the country was not yet blessed with a doctor, this was not an +unimportant item. Then, too, she was a most capable housekeeper--she +cooked, marketed, swept, dusted, and tyrannized over the mere men in a +manner to be envied even by a New England dame. Fay and the Leslies had +also taken up their quarters in the camp. Old Mizzou and the Arthurs +had gone. The old "bunk house" now accommodated a good-sized gang of +miners, who had been engaged by Fay to do the necessary assessment +work. Altogether the camp was very populous and lively. + +After a little Bennington learned of everything that had happened +during the three weeks of his sickness. It all came out in a series of +charming conversations, when, in the evening twilight, they gathered in +the room where the sick man lay. Mary--as Bennington still liked to +name her--occupied the rocking chair, and the three young men +distributed themselves as best suited them. It was most homelike and +resting. Bennington had never before experienced the delight of seeing +a young girl about a house, and he enjoyed to the utmost the deft +little touches by which is imparted that airily feminine appearance to +a room; or, more subtly, the mere spirit of daintiness which breathes +always from a woman of the right sort. He felt there was added a newer +and calmer element of joy to his love. + +During the first period of his illness, then, Jim Fay and the Leslie +brothers had worked energetically relocating the claims, while Mrs. +Lawton and Miss Fay had taken charge of the house. By the end of the +first day the job was finished. The question then came up as to the +disposition of the prisoners. + +"We didn't want the nuisance of a prosecution," said Fay, "because that +would mean that these mossbacks could drag us off to Rapid City any +old time as witnesses, and keep us there indefinitely. Neither did we +want to let them off scot-free. They'd made us altogether too much +trouble for that! Bert here suggested a very simple way out. I went +down to Spanish Gulch and told the boys the whole story from start to +finish. Well, it isn't hard to handle a Western crowd if you go at it +right. The boys always thought you had good stuff in you since you rode +the horse and smashed Leary's face that night. It would have been easy +to have cooked up all kinds of trouble for our precious gang, but I +managed to get the boys in a frivolous mood, so they merely came up and +had fun." + +"I should say they did!" Bert interjected. "They dragged the crowd out +of the shaft--and they were a tough-looking proposition, I can tell +you!--and stood them up in a row. They shaved half of Davidson's head +and half his beard, on opposite sides. They left tufts of hair all over +Arthur. They made a six-pointed star on the top of Slayton's crown. +Then they put the men's clothes on wrong side before, and tied them +facing the rear on three scrubby little burros. Then the whole outfit +was started toward Deadwood. The boys took them as far as Blue Lead, +where they delivered them over to the gang there, with instructions to +pass them along. They probably got to Deadwood. I don't know what's +become of them since." + +"I think it was cruel!" put in Miss Fay decidedly. + +"Perhaps. But it was better than hanging them." + +"What became of Mrs. Arthur?" asked the invalid. + +"I shipped her to Deadwood with a little money. Poor creature! It would +be a good thing for her if her husband never did show up. She'd get +along better without him." + +The claims located and the sharpers got rid of, Fay proceeded at once +to put the assessment work under way. In this, his long Western +experience, and his intimate acquaintance with the men, stood him in +such good stead that he was enabled to contract the work at a cheaper +rate than Bishop's estimate. + +"I wrote to Bishop," he said, "and told him all about it. In his +answer, which I'll show you, he took all the blame to himself, just as +I anticipated he would, and he's so tickled to death over the showing +made by the assays that he's coming out here himself to see about +development. So I'm afraid you're going to lose your job." + +"I'm not sorry to go home. But I'm sorry to leave the Hills." He looked +wistfully through the twilight toward Mary's slender figure, outlined +against the window. The three men caught the glance, and began at once +to talk in low tones to each other. In a moment they went out. Somehow, +on returning from the land of visions, Ben found that the world had +moved, and that one of the results of the movement was that many things +were taken for granted by the little community of four who surrounded +him. It was as though the tangle had unravelled quietly while he slept. +She leaned toward him shyly, and whispered something to his ear. He +smiled contentedly. + +They talked then long and comfortably in the dusk--about how the +Leslies had written the letter, how much trouble she had taken to +conceal her real identity, and all the rest. + +"I sent Bill Lawton up to warn your camp the first day I met you," said +she. + +"Why, I remember!" he cried. "He was there when I got back." + +And they talked on of their many experiences, in the fashion of lovers, +and how they had come to care for each other, and when. + +"I made up my mind it was so foolish a joke," she confessed, "that I +determined to tell you all about it. You remember I had something to +tell you at the Pioneer's Picnic? That was it. But then you remember +the girl in the train, and how, when she looked at us, you turned +away?" + +"I remember that well enough," replied Bennington. "But what has that +to do with it?" + +"It was a perfectly natural thing to do, dearest. I see that plainly +enough now. But it hurt me a little that you should be ashamed of me as +a Western girl, and I made up my mind to test you." + +"Why, I wasn't thinking of that at all," cried Bennington. "I was just +ashamed of my clothes. I never thought of you!" + +She reached out and patted his hand. "I'm glad to hear that, Ben dear, +after all. It did hurt. And I was so foolish. I thought if you were +ashamed of me, you would never stand the thought of the Lawtons. So I +did not tell you the truth then, but resolved to test you in that way." + +"Foolish little girl!" said he tenderly. "But it came out all right, +didn't it?" + +"Yes," she sighed, with a happy gesture of the hands. They fell silent. + +"I want you to tell me something, dear," said Bennington after a while. +"You needn't unless you want to, but I've thought about it a great +deal." + +"I will tell you, Ben, anything in the world. We ought to be frank with +each other now, don't you think so?" + +"I don't know as I ought to say anything about it, after all," he +hesitated, evidently embarrassed. "But, Mary, you know you have hinted +a little at it yourself. You remember you said something once about +losing faith, and being made hard, and----" + +She took both his hands in hers and drew them closely to her breast. +Although he could not see her eyes against the dusk, he knew that she +was looking at him steadily. + +"Listen quietly, Ben dear, and I will tell you. Before I came out here +I thought I loved a man, and he--well, he did not treat me well. I had +trusted him and every one else implicitly until the very moment +when----I felt it very much, and I came West with Jim to get away from +the old scenes. Now I know that it was only fascination, but it was +very real then. You do not like that, Ben, do you? The memory is not +pleasant to me, and yet," she said, with a wistful little break of the +voice, "if it hadn't been for that I would not have been the woman I +am, and I could not love you, dearest, as I do. It is never in the same +way twice, but each time something better and higher is added to it. +Oh, my darling, I _do_ love you, I do love you so much, and you must be +always my generous, poetic _boy_, as you are now." + +She strained his hands to her as though afraid he would slip from her +clasp. "All that is ideal so soon hardens. I can not bear to think of +your changing." + +Bennington leaned forward and their lips met. "We will forgive him," he +murmured. + +And what that remark had to do with it only our gentler readers will be +able to say. + +Ah, the delicious throbbing silence after the first kiss! + +"What was your decision that afternoon on the Rock, Ben? You never told +me." She asked presently, in a lighter tone, "Would you have taken me +in spite of my family?" + +He laughed with faint mischief. + +"Before I tell you, I want to ask _you_ something," he said in his +turn. "Supposing I had decided that, even though I loved you, I must +give you up because of my duty to my family--suppose that, I say--what +would _you_ have done? Would your love for me have been so strong that +you would have finally confessed to me the fact that the Lawtons were +not your parents? Or would you have thrown me over entirely because you +thought I did not love you enough to take you for yourself?" + +She considered the matter seriously for some little time. + +"Ben, I don't know," she confessed at last frankly. "I can't tell." + +"No more can I, sweetheart. I hadn't decided." + +She puckered her brows in the darkness with genuine distress. Women +worry more than men over past intangibilities. He smiled comfortably to +himself, for in his grasp he held, unresisting, the dearest little hand +in the world. Outside, the ever-charming, ever-mysterious night of the +Hills was stealing here and there in sighs and silences. From the +darkness came the high sweet tenor of Bert Leslie's voice in the words +of a song: + + "A Sailor to the Sea, a Hunter to the Pines, + And Sea and Pines alike to joy the Rover, + The Wood-smells to the nostrils of the Lover of the Trail, + And Hearts to Hearts the whole World over!" + +Through and through the words of the song, like a fine silver wire +through richer cloth of gold, twined the long-drawn, tremulous notes +of the white-throated sparrow, the nightingale of the North. + +"The dear old Hills," he murmured tenderly. "We must come back to them +often, sweetheart." + +"I wish, I _wish_ I knew!" she cried, holding his hand tighter. + +"Knew what?" he asked, surprised. + +"What you'd have done, and what I'd have done!" + +"Well," he replied, with a happy sigh, "I know what I'm _going_ to do, +and that's quite enough for me." + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Claim Jumpers, by Stewart Edward White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLAIM JUMPERS *** + +***** This file should be named 10942.txt or 10942.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/9/4/10942/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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