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diff --git a/78657-0.txt b/78657-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..613d0a2 --- /dev/null +++ b/78657-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6270 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78657 *** + + + + + BRANSFORD IN ARCADIA + + OR + + _THE LITTLE EOHIPPUS_ + + By EUGENE MANLOVE RHODES + + Author of "Good Men and True" + + NEW YORK + + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + + 1914 + + Copyright, 1913, + By + CURTIS PUBLISHING CO. + + Copyright, 1914, + By + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + + _Published January, 1914_ + + + + + CONTENTS + + + PROLOGUE + + I THE PITCHER THAT WENT TO THE WELL + + II FIRST AID + + III MAXWELTON BRAES + + IV THE ROAD TO ROME + + V THE MASKERS + + VI THE ISLE OF ARCADY + + VII STATES-GENERAL + + VIII ARCADES AMBO + + IX TAKEN + + X THE ALIBI + + XI THE NETTLE, DANGER + + XII THE SIEGE OF DOUBLE MOUNTAIN + + XIII THE SIEGE OF DOUBLE MOUNTAIN (_continued_) + + XIV FLIGHT + + XV GOOD-BY + + XVI THE LAND OF AFTERNOON + + XVII TWENTIETH CENTURY + + XVIII AT THE RAINBOW'S END + + + + +[Illustration: The Horses Were Unwilling to Enter the Circle of +Firelight.] + + + BRANSFORD IN ARCADIA + + + + + PROLOGUE + + + I + +The long fall round-up was over. The wagon, homeward bound, made camp +for the last night out at the Sinks of Lost River. Most of the men, +worn with threescore night-guards, were buried under their tarps in +the deep sleep of the weary; sound as that of the just, and much more +common. + +By the low campfire a few yet lingered: old-timers, iron men, whose +wiry and seasoned strength was toil-proof--and Leo Ballinger, for whom +youth, excitement and unsated novelty served in lieu of fitness. + +The "firelighters," working the wide range again from Ancho to Hueco, +from the Mal Pais to Glencoe, fell silent now, to mark an unstaled +miracle. + +The clustered lights of Rainbow's End shone redly, near and low. +Beyond, above, dominant, the black, unbroken bulk of Rainbow Range +shut out the east. The clear-cut crest mellowed to luminous curves, +feathery with far-off pines; the long skyline thrilled with frosty +fire, glowed, sparkled--the cricket's chirp was stilled; the slow, late +moon rose to a hushed and waiting world. + +On the sharp crest she paused, irresolute, tip-toe, quivering, rosily +aflush. Above floated a web of gossamer. She leaped up, spurning the +black rim; glowed, palpitant, through that filmy lace--and all the +desert throbbed with vibrant light. + +Cool and sweet and fresh, from maiden leagues of clean, brown earth the +desert winds made whisper in grass and fragrant shrub; yucca, mesquite +and greasewood swayed--so softly, you had not known save as the long +shadows courtesied and danced. + +Leo flung up his hand. The air was wine to him. A year had left the +desert still new and strange. "Gee!" he said eloquently. + +Headlight nodded. "You're dead right on that point, son. If Christopher +K. Columbus had only thought to beach his shallops on the sundown side +of this here continent he might have made a name for himself. Just +think how much different, hysterically, these United States----" + +"_This_ United States," corrected Pringle dispassionately. Their +fathers had disagreed on the same grammatical point. + +Headlight scowled. "By Jings! 'That _this_ United Colonies are, and of +right ought to be, free and independent States,'" he quoted. "I was +goin' to give you something new to exercise your talons on. You sit +here every night, ridin' broncs and four-footin' steers, and never +grab a horn or waste a loop, not once. Sure things ain't amusin'. Some +variety and doubtful accuracy, now, would develop our guessin' gifts." + +Aforesaid Smith brandished the end-gate rod. "Them speculations of +yours sorter opens up of themselves. If California had been settled +first the salmon would now be our national bird instead of the +potato. Think of Arizona, mother of Presidents! Seat of government at +Milipitas; center of population about Butte; New Jersey howlin' about +Nevada trusts!" He impaled a few beef ribs and held them over the +glowing embers. + +"Georgia and South Carolina would be infested by cow-persons +in décolleté leather panties," said Jeff Bransford. "New York +and Pennsylvania would be fondly turning a credulous ear to the +twenty-fourth consecutive solemn promise of Statehood--with the Senator +from Walla Walla urging admission of both as one mighty State with +Maryland and Virginia thrown in for luck." + +Headlight forgot his pique. "Wouldn't the railroads sound funny, +though? Needles and Eastern, Northern Atlantic, Southern Atlantic, +Union, Western, Kansas and Central Atlantic! Earnest and continuous +demand for a President from east of the Mississippi. All the +prize-fights pulled off at Boston." + +"Columbus done just right," said Pringle decisively. "You fellers ain't +got no imagination a-tall. If this Western country'd been settled +first, the maps would read: 'Northeast Territory.--Uninhabitable +wilderness; region of storm and snow, roaming savages and fierce wild +beasts.' When the intrepid explorer hit the big white weather he'd say, +'Little old San Diego's good enough for me!' Yes, sir!" + +"Oh, well, climate alone doesn't account for the charm of this +country--nor scenery," said Leo. "You feel it, but you don't know why +it is." + +"It sure agrees with your by-laws," observed Pringle. "You're a sight +changed from the furtive behemoth you was. You'll make a hand yet. But, +even now, your dimensions from east to west is plumb fascinatin'. I'd +sure admire to have your picture to put in my cornfield." + +"Very well, Mr. Pringle: I'll exchange photographs with you," said Leo +artlessly. A smothered laugh followed this remark; uncertainty as to +what horrible and unnamed use Leo would make of Pringle's pictured face +appealed to these speculative minds. + +"I've studied out this charm business," said Jeff. "See if I'm not +right. It's because there's no habitually old men here to pattern +after, to steady us, to make us ashamed of just staying boys. Now and +then you hit an octagonal cuss like Wes here, that on a mere count of +years and hairs might be sized up as old by the superficial observer. +But if I have ever met that man more addicted with vivid nonchalance as +to further continuance of educational facilities than this same Also +Ran, his number has now escaped me. Really aged old people stay where +they was." + +"I think, myself, that what makes life so easy and congenial in these +latigos and longitudes is the dearth of law and the ladies." Thus +Pringle, the cynic. + +A fourfold outcry ensued; indignant repudiation of the latter heresy. +Their protest rose above the customary subdued and quiet drawl of the +out-of-doors man. + +"But has the law no defenders?" demanded Leo. "We've got to have laws +to make us behave." + +"Sure thing! Likewise, 'tis the waves that make the tide come in," +said Jeff. "A good law is as handy as a good pocketbook. But law, as +simply such, independent of its merits, rouses no enthusiasm in my +manly bosom, no more than a signboard the day after Hallowe'en. If it +occurs to me in a moment of emotional sanity that the environments of +the special case in hand call for a compound fracture of the statutes +made and provided--for some totally different cases that happen to be +called by the same name--I fall upon it with my glittering hew-gag, +without no special wonder. For," he declaimed, "I am endowed by nature +with certain inalienable rights, among which are the high justice, the +middle, and the low!" + +"And who's to be the judge of whether it's a good law or not? You?" + +"Me. Me, every time. Some one must. If I let some other man make up +my mind I've got to use my judgment--picking the man I follow. By +organizing myself into a Permanent Committee of One to do my own +thinking I take my one chance of mistakes instead of two." + +"So you believe in doing evil that good may come, do you?" + +"Well," said Jeff judicially, "it seems to be at least as good a +proposition as doing good that evil may come of it. Why, Capricorn, +there isn't one thing we call wrong, when other men do it, that hasn't +been lawful, some time or other. When to break a law is to do a wrong, +it's evil. When it's doing right to break a law, it's not evil. Got +that? It's not wrong to keep a just law--and if it's wrong to break an +unjust law I want a new dictionary with pictures of it in the back." + +"But laws is useful and excitin' diversions to break up the monogamy," +said Aforesaid. "And it's a dead easy way to build up a rep. Look +at the edge I've got on you fellows. You're just supposed to be +honest--but I've been proved honest, frequent!" + +"Hark!" said Pringle. + +A weird sound reached them--the night wrangler, beguiling his lonely +vigil with song. + + "Oh, the cuckoo is a pretty bird; she comes in the spring----" + +"What do you s'pose that night-hawk thinks about the majesty of the +law?" he said. There was a ringing note in his voice. Smith and +Headlight nodded gravely; their lean, brown faces hardened. + +"You haven't heard of it? Old John Taylor, daddy to yonder warbler, +drifted here from the East. Wife and little girl both puny. Taylor +takes up a homestead on the Feliz. He wasn't affluent none. I let him +have my old paint pony, Freckles--him being knee-sprung and not up +to cow-work. To make out an unparalleled team, he got Ed Poe's Billy +Bowlegs, née Gambler, him havin' won a new name by a misunderstanding +with a prairie-dog hole. Taylor paid Poe for him in work. He was a +willin' old rooster, Taylor, but futile and left-handed all over. + +"John, Junior, he was only thirteen. Him and the old man moseyed around +like two drunk ants, fixin' up a little log house with rock chimbleys, +a horse-pen and shelter, rail-fencin' of the little _vegas_ to put to +crops, and so on. + +"Done you good to drop in and hear 'em plan and figger. They was one +happy family. How Sis Em'ly bragged about their hens layin'! In the +spring we all held a bee and made their _'cequias_ for 'em. Baker, he +loaned 'em a plow. They dragged big branches over the ground for a +harrow. They could milk anybody's cows they was a mind to tame, and the +boys took to carryin' over motherless calves for Mis' Taylor to raise. +Taylor, he done odd jobs, and they got along real well with their +crops. They went into the second winter peart as squirrels. + +"But, come spring, Sis wasn't doin' well. They had the Agency doctor. +Too high up and too damp, he said. So the missus and Em'ly they went to +Cruces, where Em'ly could go to school. + +"That meant right smart of expense--rentin' a house and all. So the +Johns they hires out. John, Junior, made his dayboo as wrangler for the +Steam Pitchfork, acquirin' the obvious name of Felix. + +"The old man he got a job muckin' in Organ mines. Kept his hawses in +Jeff Isaack's pasture, and Saturday nights he'd get one and slip down +them eighteen miles to Cruces for Sunday with the folks. + +"Well, you know, a homesteader can't be off his claim more'n six months +at a time. + +"I reckon if there was ever a homestead taken up in good faith 'twas +the Butterbowl. They knew the land laws from A to Izzard. Even named +their hound pup Boney Fido! + +"But the old man waited at Organ till the last bell rang, so's to draw +down his wages, payday. Then he bundles the folks into his little old +wagon and lights out. Campin' at Casimiro's Well, half-way 'cross, that +ornery Freckles hawse has a fit of malignant nostolgy and projects off +for Butterbowl, afoot, in his hobbles. Next day, Taylor don't overtake +him till the middle of the evenin', and what with going back and what +with Freckles being hobble-sore, he's two days late in reachin' home. +For Lake, of Agua Chiquite, that prosperous person, had been keeping +cases. He entered contest on the Butterbowl, allegin' abandonment. + +"Now, if it was me--but, then, if 'twas me I could stay away six years +and two months without no remonstrances from Lake or his likes. I'm +somewhat abandoned myself. + +"But poor old Taylor, he's been drug up where they hold biped life +unaccountable high. He sits him down resignedly beneath the sky, +as the poet says, meek and legal. We all don't abnormally like to +precipitate in another man's business, but we makes it up to sorter +saunter in on Lake, spontaneous, and evince our disfavor with a rope. +But Taylor says, 'No.' He allows the Land Office won't hold him morally +responsible for the sinful idiocy of a homesick spotted hawse that's +otherwise reliable. + +"He's got one more guess comin'. There ain't no sympathies to +machinery. Your intentions may be strictly honorable, but if you get +your hand caught in the cogs, off it goes, regardless of how handy it +is for flankin' calves, holdin' nails, and such things. 'Absent over +six months. Entry canceled. Contestant is allowed thirty days' prior +right to file. Next.' + +"That's the way that decision'll read. It ain't come yet, but it's due +soon. + +"This here Felix looks at it just like the old man, only +different--though he ain't makin' no statements for publication. He +come here young, and having acquired the fixed habit of riskin' his +neck, regular, for one dollar per each and every diem, shooin' in the +reluctant steer, or a fool hawse pirouettin' across the pinnacles +with a nosebag on--or, mebbee, just for fun--why, natural, he don't +see why life is so sweet or peace so dear as to put up with any damn +foolishness, as Pat Henry used to say when the boys called on him +for a few remarks. He's a some serious-minded boy, that night-hawk, +and if signs is any indications, he's fixin' to take an appeal under +the Winchester Act. I ain't no seventh son of a son-of-a-gun, but my +prognostications are that he presently removes Lake to another and, we +trust, a better world." + +"Good thing, too," grunted Headlight. "This Lake person is sure-lee a +muddy pool." + +"Shet your fool head," said Pringle amiably. "You may be on the jury. +I'm going to seek my virtuous couch. Glad we don't have to bed no +cattle, _viva voce_, this night." + +"Ain't he the Latin scholar?" said Headlight admiringly. "They blow +about that wire Julius Cæsar sent the Associated Press, but old man +Pringle done him up for levity and precision when he wrote us the +account of his visit to the Denver carnival. Ever hear about it, +Sagittarius?" + +"No," said Leo. "What did he say?" + +"Hic--hock--hike!" + + + II + +Escondido, half-way of the desert, is designed on simple +lines. The railroad hauls water in tank-cars from Dog Cañon. +There is one depot, one section-house, and one combination +post-office-hotel-store-saloon-stage-station, kept by Ma Sanders and +Pappy Sanders, in about the order mentioned. Also, one glorious green +cottonwood, one pampered rosebush, jointly the pride and delight of +Escondido, ownerless, but cherished by loving care and "toted" tribute +of waste water. + +Hither came Jeff and Leo, white with the dust of twenty starlit +leagues, for accumulated mail of Rainbow South. Horse-feeding, +breakfast, gossip with jolly, motherly Ma Sanders, reading and +answering of mail--then their beauty nap; so missing the day's event, +the passing of the Flyer. When they woke Escondido basked drowsily +in the low, westering sun. The far sunset ranges had put off their +workaday homespun brown and gray for chameleon hues of purple and +amethyst; their deep, cool shadows, edged with trembling rose, reached +out across the desert; the velvet air stirred faintly to the promise of +the night. + +The agent was putting up his switch-lights; from the kitchen came a +cheerful clatter of tin-ware. + +"Now we buy some dry goods and wet," said Leo. They went into the store. + +"That decision's come!" shrilled Pappy in tremulous excitement. "It's +too dum bad! Registered letters from Land Office for Taylor and Lake, +besides another for Lake, not registered." + +"That one from the Land Office, too?" said Jeff. + +"Didn't I jest tell ye? Say, it's a shame! Why don't some of you +fellers----Gosh! If I was only young!" + +"It's a travesty on justice!" exclaimed Leo indignantly. "There's +really no doubt but that they decided for Lake, I suppose?" + +"Not a bit. He's got the law with him. Then him and the Register is old +cronies. Guess this other letter is from him unofficial, likely." + +Jeff seated himself on a box. "How long has this Lake got to do his +filing in, Pappy?" + +"Thirty days from the time he signs the receipt for this letter--dum +him!" + +"Some one ought to kidnap him," said Leo. + +"Why, that's illegal!" Jeff nursed his knee, turned his head to one +side and chanted thoughtfully: + + "Said the little Eohippus, + 'I'm going to be a horse, + And on my middle finger-nails + To run my earthly course'----" + +He broke off and smiled at Leo indulgently. Leo glanced at him sharply; +this was Jeff's warsong aforetime. But it was to Pappy that Jeff spoke: + +"Dad, you're a better'n any surgeon. Wish you'd go out and look at +Leo's horse. His ankle's all swelled up. I'll be mixin' me up a toddy, +if Ma's got any hot water. I'm feeling kinder squeamish." + +"Hot toddy, this weather? Some folks has queer tastes," grumbled Pappy. +"Ex-_cuse_ me! Me and Leo'll go look at the Charley-horse. That bottle +under the shelf is the best." He bustled out. But Jeff caught Ballinger +by the sleeve. + +"Will you hold my garments while I stone Stephen?" he hissed. + +"I will," said Leo, meeting Jeff's eye. "Hit him once for me." + +"Move the lever to the right, you old retrograde, and get Pappy to +gyratin' on his axis some fifteen or twenty minutes, you listenin' +reverently. Meanwhile, I'll make the necessary incantations. Git! Don't +look so blamed intelligent, or Pappy'll be suspicious." + +Bransford hastened to the kitchen. "Ma Sanders, a bronc fell on me +yesterday and my poor body is one big stone bruise. Can I borrow some +boiling water to mix a small prescription, or maybe seven? One when you +first feel like it, and repeat at intervals, the doctor says." + +"Don't you get full in _my_ house, Jeff Bransford, or I'll feed you to +the hawgs. You take three doses, and that'll be a-plenty for you." + +Jeff put the steaming kettle on the rusty store stove, used as a +waste-paper basket through the long summer. Touching off the papers +with a match, he smashed an empty box and put it in. Then he went into +the post-office corner and laid impious hands on the United States Mail. + +First he steamed open Lake's unregistered letter from the Land Office. +It was merely a few typewritten lines, having no reference to the +Butterbowl: "Enclosing the Plat of TP. 14 E. of First Guide Meridan +East Range S. of 3d Standard Parallel South, as per request." + +He paused to consider. His roving eye lit on the wall, where the +Annual Report of the Governor of New Mexico hung from a nail. "The +very thing," he said. Pasted in the report was a folded map of the +Territory. This he cut out, refolded it till it slipped in the violated +envelope, dabbed the flap neatly with Pappy's mucilage, and returned +the letter to its proper pigeonhole. + +He replenished the fire with another box, subjected Lake's registered +letter to the steaming process and opened it with delicate caution. It +was the decision; it was in Lake's favor; and it went into the fire. +Substituting for it the Plat of TP. 14 and the accompanying letter he +resealed it with workmanlike neatness, and then restored it with a +final inspection. "The editor sits on the madhouse floor, and pla-ays +with the straws in his hair!" he murmured, beaming with complacent +pride and reaching for the bottle. + +Pappy and Leo found him with his hands to the blaze, shivering. "I +feel like I was going to have a chill," he complained. But with a few +remedial measures he recuperated sufficiently to set off for Rainbow +after supper. + +"Charley's ankle seems better," said Leo artlessly. + +"Don't you lay no stress on Charley's ankle," said Jeff, in a burst of +confidence. "Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be otherwise. +Just let Charley's ankle slip your memory." + +The following day Bransford drew rein at Wes Pringle's shack and +summoned him forth. + +"Mr. John Wesley Also-Ran Pringle," he said impressively, "I have +taken a horse-ride over here to put you through your cataclysm. Will +you truthfully answer the rebuses I shall now propound to the best of +your ability, and govern yourself accordingly till the surface of Hades +congeals to glistening bergs, and that with no unseemly curiosity?" + +"Is it serious?" asked Pringle anxiously. + +"This is straight talk." + +Pringle took a long look and held up his hand. "I will," he said +soberly. + +"John Wesley, do you or do you not believe Stephen W. Lake, of Agua +Chiquite, to be a low-down, coniferous skunk by birth, inclination and +training?" + +"I do." + +"John Wesley, do you or do you not possess the full confidence and +affection of Felix, the night-hawk, otherwise known and designated as +John Taylor, Junior, of Butterbowl, Esquire?" + +"I do." + +"Do you, John Wesley Pringle, esteem me, Jeff Bransford, irrespective +of color, sex or previous condition of turpitude, to be such a one as +may be safely tied to when all the hitching-posts is done pulled up, +and will you now promise to love, honor and obey me till the cows come +home, or till further orders?" + +"I do--I will. And may God have mercy on my soul." + +"Here are your powders, then. Do you go and locate the above-mentioned +and described Felix, and impart to him, under the strict seal of +secrecy, these tidings, to wit, namely: That you have a presentiment, +almost amounting to conviction, that the Butterbowl contest is decided +in Lake's favor, but that your further presentiments is that said Lake +will not use his prior right. If Taylor should get such a decision from +the Land Office don't let him or Felix say a word to no one. If Mr. +B. Body should ask, tell 'em 'twas a map, or land laws, or something. +Moreover, said Felix he is not to stab, cut, pierce or otherwise +mutilate said Lake, nor to wickedly, maliciously, feloniously and +unlawfully fire at or upon the person of said Lake with any rifle, +pistol, musket or gun, the same being then and there loaded with powder +and with balls, shots, bullets or slugs of lead or other metal. You +see to that, personal. I'd go to him myself, but he don't know me well +enough to have confidence in my divinations. + +"You promulgate these prophecies as your sole personal device and +construction--_sabe_? Then, thirty days after Lake signs a receipt for +his decision--and you will take steps to inform yourself of that--you +sidle casually down to Roswell with old man Taylor and see that he puts +preëmption papers on the Butterbowl. Selah!" + + + III + +The first knowledge Lake had of the state of affairs was when the +Steam Pitchfork punchers informally extended to him the right hand +of fellowship (hitherto withheld) under the impression that he had +generously abstained from pushing home his vantage. When, in the +mid-flood of his unaccountable popularity, the situation dawned upon +him, he wisely held his peace. He was a victim of the accomplished +fact. Taylor had already filed his preëmption. So Lake reaped volunteer +harvest of good-will, bearing his honors in graceful silence. + +On Lake's next trip to Escondido, Pappy Sanders laid aside his marked +official hauteur. Lake stayed several days, praised the rosebush and Ma +Sanders' cookery, and indulged in much leisurely converse with Pappy. +Thereafter he had a private conference with Stratton, the Register of +the Roswell Land Office. His suspicion fell quite naturally on Felix, +and on Jeff as accessory during the fact. + +So it was that, when Jeff and Leo took in Roswell fair (where Jeff won +a near-prize at the roping match), Hobart, the United States Marshal, +came to their room. After introducing himself he said: + +"Mr. Stratton would like to see you, Mr. Bransford." + +"Why, that's all right!" said Jeff genially. "Some of my very great +grandfolks was Dacotahs and I've got my name in 'Who's Sioux'--but I'm +not proud! Trot him around. Exactly who is Stratton, anyhow?" + +"He's the Register of the Land Office--and he wants to see you there +on very particular business. I'd go if I was you," said the Marshal +significantly. + +"Oh, that way!" said Jeff. "Is this an arrest, or do you just give me +this _in_-vite semi-officiously?" + +"You accuse yourself, sir. Were you expecting arrest? That sounds like +a bad conscience." + +"Don't you worry about my conscience. 'If I've ever done anything I'm +sorry for I'm glad of it.' Now this Stratton party--is he some aged and +venerable? 'Cause, if he is, I waive ceremony and seek him in his lair +at the witching hour of two this _tarde_. And if not, not." + +"He's old enough--even if there were no other reasons." + +"Never mind any other reasons. It shall never be said that I fail to +reverence gray hairs. I'll be there." + +"I guess I'll just wait and see that you go," said the Marshal. + +"Have you got any papers for me?" asked Jeff politely. + +"No." + +"This is my room," said Jeff. "This is my fist. This is me. That is my +door. Open it, Leo. Mr. Hobart, you will now make rapid forward motions +with your feet, alternately, like a man removing his company from where +it is not desired--or I'll go through you like a domesticated cyclone. +See you at two, sharp!" Hobart obeyed. He was a good judge of men. + +Jeff closed the door. "'We went upon the battlefield,'" he said +plaintively, "'before us and behind us, and every which-a-way we +looked, we seen a roscerhinus.' We went into another field--behind us +and before us, and every which-a-way we looked, we seen a rhinusorus. +Mr. Lake has been evidently browsin' and pe-rusing around, and poor +old Pappy, not being posted, has likely been narratin' about Charley's +ankle and how I had a chill. Wough-ough!" + +"It looks that way," confessed Leo. "_Did_ you have a chill, Jeff?" + +Jeff's eyes crinkled. "Not so nigh as I am now. But shucks! I've been +in worse emergencies, and I always emerged. Thanks be, I can always do +my best when I have to. Oh, what a tangled web we weave when we don't +keep in practice! If I'd just come out straightforward and declared +myself to Pappy, he'd 'a' tightened up his drawstrings and forgot all +about my chill. But, no, well as I know from long experience that good +old human nature's only too willin' to do the right thing and the fair +thing--if somebody'll only tip it off to 'em--I must play a lone hand +and not even call for my partner's best. Well, I'm goin' to ramify +around and scrutinize this here Stratton's numbers, equipments and +disposition. Meet me in the office at the fatal hour!" + + * * * * * + +The Marshal wore a mocking smile. Stratton, large, florid, well-fed +and eminently respectable, turned in his revolving chair with a severe +and majestic motion; adjusted his glasses in a prolonged and offensive +examination, and frowned portentously. + +"Fine large day, isn't it?" observed Jeff affably. "Beautiful little +city you have here." He sank into a chair. Smile and attitude were of +pleased and sprightly anticipation. + +A faint flush showed beneath Stratton's neatly-trimmed mutton-chops. +Such jaunty bearing was exasperating to offended virtue. "Ah--who is +this other person, Mr. Hobart?" + +"Pardon my rudeness!" Jeff sprang up and bowed brisk apology. "Mr. +Stratton, allow me to present Mr. Ballinger, a worthy representative +of the Yellow Press. Mr. Stratton--Mr. Ballinger!" + +"I have a communication to make to you," said the displeased Mr. +Stratton, in icy tones, "which, in your own interest, should be +extremely private." The Marshal whispered to him; Stratton gave Leo a +fiercely intimidating glare. + +"Communicate away," said Jeff airily. "Excommunicate, if you want to. +Mr. Ballinger, as a citizen, is part owner of this office. If you want +to bar him you'll have to change the venue to your private residence. +And then I won't come." + +"Very well, sir!" Mr. Stratton rose, inflated his chest and threw +back his head. His voice took on a steady roll. "Mr. Bransford, you +stand under grave displeasure of the law! You are grievously suspected +of being cognizant of, if not actually accessory to, the robbery of +the United States Mail by John Taylor, Junior, at Escondido, on the +eighteenth day of last October. You may not be aware of it, but you +have an excellent chance of serving a term in the penitentiary!" + +Jeff pressed his hands between his knees and leaned forward. "I'm +sure I'd never be satisfied there," he said, with conviction. His +white teeth flashed in an ingratiatory smile. "But why suspect +young John?--why not old John?" He paused, looking at the Register +attentively. "H'm!--you're from Indiana, I believe, Mr. Stratton?" he +said. + +"The elder Taylor, on the day in question, is fully accounted for," +said Hobart. "Young Taylor claims to have passed the night at Willow +Springs, alone. But no one saw him from breakfast time the seventeenth +till noon on the nineteenth." + +"He rarely ever has any one with him when he's alone. That may account +for them not seeing him at Willow," suggested Jeff. He did not look at +Hobart, but regarded Stratton with an air of deep meditation. + +The Register paced the floor slowly, ponderously, with an impressive +pause at each turn, tapping his left hand with his eyeglass to +score his points. "He had ample time to go to Escondido and return. +The envelope in which Mr. Lake's copy of this office's decision in +the Lake-Taylor contest was enclosed has been examined. It bears +unmistakable signs of having been tampered with." Turning to mark the +effect of these tactics, he became aware of his victim's contemplative +gaze. It disconcerted him. He resumed his pacing. Jeff followed him +with a steady eye. + +"In the same mail I sent Mr. Lake another letter. The envelope was +unfortunately destroyed, Mr. Lake suspecting nothing. A map had been +substituted for its contents, and they, in turn, were substituted for +the decision in the registered letter, with the evident intention of +depriving Mr. Lake of his prior right to file." + +"By George! It sounds probable." Jeff laughed derisively. "So that's +it! And here we all thought Lake let it go out of giddy generosity! My +stars, but won't he get the horse-smile when the boys find out?" + +Stratton controlled himself with an effort. "We have decided not to +push the case against you if you will tell what you know," he began. + +Jeff lifted his brows. "_We?_ And who's _we_? You two? I should have +thought this was a post-office lay." + +"We are investigating the affair," explained Hobart. + +"I see! As private individuals. Yes, yes. Does Lake pay you by the day +or by the job?" + +Stratton, blazing with anger, smote his palm heavily with his fist. +"Young man! Young man! Your insolence is unbearable! We are trying to +spare you--as you had no direct interest in the matter and doubtless +concealed your guilty knowledge through a mistaken and distorted sense +of honor. But you tempt us--you tempt us! You don't seem to realize the +precarious situation in which you stand." + +"What I don't see," said Jeff, in puzzled tones, "is why you bother +to spare me at all. If you can prove this, why don't you cinch me and +Felix both? Why do you want me to tell you what you already know? And +if you can't prove it--who the hell cares what you suspect?" + +"We will arrest you," said Stratton thickly, "just as soon as we can +make out the papers!" + +"Turn your wolf loose, you four-flushers! You may make me trouble, +but you can't prove anything. Speaking of trouble--how about you, Mr. +Stratton?" As a spring leaps, released from highest tension, face and +body and voice flashed from passive indolence to sudden, startling +attack. His arm lashed swiftly out as if to deliver the swordsman's +stabbing thrust; the poised body followed up to push the stroke home. +"You think your secret safe, don't you? It's been some time ago." + +Words only--yet it might have been a very sword's point past Stratton's +guard. For the Register flinched, staggered, his arrogant face grew +mottled, his arm went up. He fell back a step, silent, quivering, +leaning heavily on a chair. The Marshal gave him a questioning glance. +Jeff kept on. + +"You're prominent in politics, business, society, the church. You've a +family to think of. It's up to you, Mr. Stratton. Is it worth while? +Had we better drop it with a dull, sickening thud?" + +Stratton collapsed into the chair, a shapeless bundle, turning a +shriveled, feeble face to the Marshal in voiceless imploring. + +Unhesitating, Hobart put a hand on his shoulder. "That's all right, +old man! We won't give you away. Brace up!" He nodded Jeff to the door. +"You win!" he said. Leo followed on tip-toe. + +"Why, the poor old duck!" said Jeff remorsefully, in the passage. "Wish +I hadn't come down on him so hard. I overdid it that time. Still, if I +hadn't----" + +At the Hondo Bridge Jeff looked back and waved a hand. "Good-by, old +town! Now we go, gallopy-trot, gallopy, gallopy-trot!" He sang, and the +ringing hoofs kept time and tune, + + "Florence Mehitabel Genevieve Jane, + She came home in the wind an' the rain, + She came home in the rain an' the snow; + 'Ain't a-goin' to leave my home any mo'!'" + +"Jeff," said the mystified Ballinger, spurring up beside him, "what has +the gray-haired Register done? Has murder stained his hands with gore?" + +Jeff raised his bridle hand. + +"Gee! Leo, I don't know! I just taken a chance!" + + + + + CHAPTER I + + THE PITCHER THAT WENT TO THE WELL + + "When I bend my head low and listen at the ground, + I can hear vague voices that I used to know, + Stirring in dim places, faint and restless sound; + I remember how it was when the grass began to grow." + + --_Song of The Wandering Dust_, + ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH. + + +The pines thinned as she neared Rainbow Rim, the turfy glades grew +wider; she had glimpses of open country beyond--until, at last, +crossing a little spit of high ground, she came to the fairest spot in +all her voyage of exploration and discovery. She sank down on a fallen +log with a little sigh of delight. + +The steep bank of a little cañon broke away at her feet--a cañon which +here marked the frontier of the pines, its farther side overgrown with +mahogany bush and chaparral--a cañon that fell in long, sinuous curves +from the silent mystery of forest on Rainbow Crest behind her, to widen +just below into a rolling land, parked with green-black powderpuffs +of juniper and cedar; and so passed on to mystery again, twisting +away through the folds of the low and bare gray hills to the westward, +ere the last stupendous plunge over the Rim to the low desert, a mile +toward the level of the waiting sea. + +Facing the explorer, across the little cañon, a clear spring bubbled +from the hillside and fell with pleasant murmur and tinkle to a pool +below, fringed with lush emerald--a spring massed about with wild +grapevine, shining reeds of arrow-weed; a tangle of grateful greenery, +jostling eagerly for the life-giving water. Draped in clinging vines, +slim acacias struggled up through the jungle; the exquisite fragrance +of their purple bells gave a final charm to the fairy chasm. + +But the larger vision! The nearer elfin beauty dwindled, was lost, +forgotten. Afar, through a narrow cleft in the gray westward hills, +the explorer's eye leaped out over a bottomless gulf to a glimpse +of shining leagues midway of the desert greatness--an ever-widening +triangle that rose against the peaceful west to long foothill reaches, +to a misty mountain parapet, far-beckoning, whispering of secrets, +things dreamed of, unseen, beyond the framed and slender arc of vision. +A land of enchantment and mystery, decked with strong barbaric colors, +blue and red and yellow, brown and green and gray; whose changing ebb +and flow, by some potent sorcery of atmosphere, distance and angle, +altered, daily, hourly; deepening, fading, combining into new and +fantastic lines and shapes, to melt again as swiftly to others yet more +bewildering. + +The explorer? It may be mentioned in passing that any other would +have found that fairest prospect even more wonderful than did the +explorer, Miss Ellinor Hoffman. We will attempt no clear description +of Miss Ellinor Hoffman. Dusky-beautiful she was; crisp, fresh and +sparkling; tall, vigorous, active, strong. Yet she was more than +merely beautiful--warm and frank and young; brave and kind and true. +Perhaps, even more than soft curves, lips, glory of hair or bewildering +eyes, or all together, her chiefest charm was her manner, her frank +friendliness. Earth was sweet to her, sweeter for her. + +This by way of aside and all to no manner of good. You have no picture +of her in your mind. Remember only that she was young-- + + "The stars to drink from and the sky to dance on" + +--young and happy, and therefore beautiful; that the sun was shining in +a cloudless sky, the south wind sweet and fresh, buds in the willow. + + * * * * * + +The peace was rent and shivered by strange sounds, as of a giant +falling downstairs. There was a crash of breaking boughs beyond the +cañon, a glint of color, a swift black body hurtling madly through +the shrubbery. The girl shrank back. There was no time for thought, +hardly for alarm. On the farther verge the bushes parted; an apparition +hurled arching through the sunshine, down the sheer hill--a glorious +and acrobatic horse, his black head low between his flashing feet; +red nostrils wide with rage and fear; foam flecks white on the black +shoulders; a tossing mane; a rider, straight and tall, superb--to all +seeming an integral part of the horse, pitch he never so wildly. + +The girl held her breath through the splintered seconds. She thrilled +at the shock and storm of them, straining muscles and white hoofs, +lurching, stumbling, sliding, lunging, careening in perilous arcs. She +saw stones that rolled with them or bounded after; a sombrero whirled +above the dust and tumult like a dilatory parachute; a six-shooter +jolted up into the air. Through the dust-clouds there were glimpses of +a watchful face, hair blown back above it; a broken rein snapped beside +it, saddle-strings streamed out behind; a supple body that swung from +curve to easy curve against shock and plunge, that swayed and poised +and clung, and held its desperate dominion still. The saddle slipped +forward; with a motion incredibly swift, as a hat is whipped off in +a gust of wind, it whisked over withers and neck and was under the +furious feet. Swifter, the rider! Cat-quick, he swerved, lit on his +feet, leaped aside. + +Alas, oh, rider beyond compare, undefeated champion, Pride of Rainbow! +Alas, that such thing should be recorded! He leaped aside to shun the +black frantic death at his shoulder; his feet were in the treacherous +vines: he toppled, grasped vainly at an acacia, catapulted out and +down, head first; so lit, crumpled and fell with a prodigious splash +into the waters of the pool! _Ay di mi, Alhama!_ + +The blankets lay strewn along the hill; but observe that the long lead +rope of the hackamore (a "hackamore," properly _jaquima_, is, for +your better understanding, merely a rope halter) was coiled at the +saddle-horn, held there by a stout hornstring. As the black reached +the level the saddle was at his heels. To kick was obvious, to go away +not less so; but this new terror clung to the maddened creature in +his frenzied flight--between his legs, in the air, at his heels, his +hip, his neck. A low tree leaned from the hillside; the aërial saddle +caught in the forks of it, the bronco's head was jerked round, he was +pulled to his haunches, overthrown; but the tough hornstring broke, the +freed coil snapped out at him; he scrambled up and bunched his glorious +muscles in a vain and furious effort to outrun the rope that dragged at +his heels, and so passed from sight beyond the next curve. + +Waist-deep in the pool sat the hatless horseman, or perhaps horseless +horseman were the juster term, steeped in a profound calm. That last +phrase has a familiar sound; Mark Twain's, doubtless--but, all things +considered, steeped is decidedly the word. One gloved hand was in the +water, the other in the muddy margin of the pool: he watched the final +evolution of his late mount with meditative interest. The saddle was +freed at last, but its ex-occupant still sat there, lost in thought. +Blood trickled, unnoted, down his forehead. + +The last stone followed him into the pool; the echoes died on the +hills. The spring resumed its pleasant murmur, but the tinkle of +its fall was broken by the mimic waves of the pool. Save for this +troubled sloshing against the banks, the slow-settling dust and the +contemplative bust of the one-time centaur, no trace was left to mark +the late disastrous invasion. + +The invader's dreamy and speculative gaze followed the dust of the +trailing rope. He opened his lips twice or thrice, and spoke, after +several futile attempts, in a voice mild, but clearly earnest: + +"Oh, you little eohippus!" + +The spellbound girl rose. Her hand was at her throat; her eyes were big +and round, and her astonished lips were drawn to a round, red O. + +Sharp ears heard the rustle of her skirts, her soft gasp of amazement. +The merman turned his head briskly, his eye met hers. One gloved hand +brushed his brow; a broad streak of mud appeared there, over which the +blood meandered uncertainly. He looked up at the maid in silence: in +silence the maid looked down at him. He nodded, with a pleasant smile. + +"Good-morning!" he said casually. + +At this cheerful greeting, the astounded maid was near to tumbling +after, like Jill of the song. + +"Er--good-morning!" she gasped. + +Silence. The merman reclined gently against the bank with a comfortable +air of satisfaction. The color came flooding back to her startled face. + +"Oh, are you hurt?" she cried. + +A puzzled frown struggled through the mud. + +"Hurt?" he echoed. "Who, me?... Why, no--leastwise, I guess not." + +He wiggled his fingers, raised his arms, wagged his head doubtfully and +slowly, first sidewise and then up and down; shook himself guardedly, +and finally raised tentative boot-tips to the surface. After this +painstaking inspection he settled contentedly back again. + +"Oh, no, I'm all right," he reported. "Only I lost a big, black, fine, +young, nice horse somehow. You ain't seen nothing of him, have you?" + +"Then why don't you get out?" she demanded. "I believe you are hurt." + +"Get out? Why, yes, ma'am. Certainly. Why not?" But the girl was +already beginning to clamber down, grasping the shrubbery to aid in the +descent. + +Now the bank was steep and sheer. So the merman rose, tactfully +clutching the grapevines behind him as a plausible excuse for turning +his back. It followed as a corollary of this generous act that he must +needs be lame, which he accordingly became. As this mishap became +acute, his quick eyes roved down the cañon, where he saw what gave him +pause; and he groaned sincerely under his breath. For the black horse +had taken to the parked uplands, the dragging rope had tangled in a +snaggy tree-root, and he was tracing weary circles in bootless effort +to be free. + +Tactful still, the dripping merman hobbled to the nearest shade +wherefrom the luckless black horse should be invisible, eclipsed by the +intervening ridge, and there sank down in a state of exhaustion, his +back to a friendly tree-trunk. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + FIRST AID + + "Oh woman! in our hours of ease + Uncertain, coy and hard to please; + But seen too oft, familiar with thy face + We first endure, then pity, then embrace!" + + +A moment later the girl was beside him, pity in her eyes. + +"Let me see that cut on your head," she said. She dropped on her knee +and parted the hair with a gentle touch. + +"Why, you're real!" breathed the injured near-centaur, beaming with +wonder and gratification. + +She sat down limply and gave way to wild laughter. + +"So are you!" she retorted. "Why, that is exactly what I was thinking! +I thought maybe I was asleep and having an extraordinary dream. That +wound on your head is not serious, if that's all." She brushed back a +wisp of hair that blew across her eyes. + +"I hurt this head just the other day," observed the bedraggled victim, +as one who has an assortment of heads from which to choose. He pulled +off his soaked gloves and regarded them ruefully. "'Them that go down +to deep waters!' That was a regular triumph of matter over mind, wasn't +it?" + +"It's a wonder you're alive! My! How frightened I was! Aren't you +hurt--truly? Ribs or anything?" + +The patient's elbows made a convulsive movement to guard the threatened +ribs. + +"Oh, no, ma'am. I ain't hurt a bit--indeed I ain't," he said +truthfully; but his eyes had the languid droop of one who says the +thing that is not. "Don't you worry none about me--not one bit. Sorry I +frightened you. That black horse now----" He stopped to consider fully +the case of the black horse. "Well, you see, ma'am, that black horse, +he ain't exactly right plumb gentle." His eyelids drooped again. + +The girl considered. She believed him--both that he was not badly hurt +and that the black horse was not exactly gentle. And her suspicions +were aroused. His slow drawl was getting slower; his cowboyese +broader--a mode of speech quite inconsistent with that first sprightly +remark about the little eohippus. What manner of cowboy was this, from +whose tongue a learned scientific term tripped spontaneously in so +stressful a moment--who quoted scraps of the litany unaware? Also, her +own eyes were none of the slowest. She had noted that the limping did +not begin until he was clear of the pool. Still, that might happen if +one were excited; but this one had been singularly calm, "more than +usual ca'm," she mentally quoted.... Of course, if he really were badly +hurt--which she didn't believe one bit--a little bruised and jarred, +maybe--the only thing for her to do would be to go back to camp and get +help.... That meant the renewal of Lake's hateful attentions and--for +the other girls, the sharing of her find.... She stole another look +at her find and thrilled with all the pride of the discoverer.... No +doubt he was shaken and bruised, after all. He must be suffering. What +a splendid rider he was! + +"What made you so absurd? Why didn't you get out of the water, then, if +you are not hurt?" she snapped suddenly. + +The drooped lids raised; brown eyes looked steadily into brown eyes. + +"I didn't want to wake up," he said. + +The candor of this explanation threw her, for the moment, into a vivid +and becoming confusion. The dusky roses leaped to her cheeks; the long, +dark lashes quivered and fell. Then she rose to the occasion. + +"And how about the little eohippus?" she demanded. "That doesn't seem +to go well with some of your other talk." + +"Oh!" He regarded her with pained but unflinching innocence. "The +Latin, you mean? Why, ma'am, that's most all the Latin I know--that +and some more big words in that song. I learned that song off of Frank +John, just like a poll-parrot." + +"Sing it! And eohippus isn't Latin. It's Greek." + +"Why, ma'am, I can't, just now--I'm so muddy; but I'll tell it to +you. Maybe I'll sing it to you some other time." A sidelong glance +accompanied this little suggestion. The girl's face was blank and +non-committal; so he resumed: "It goes like this: + + "Said the little Eohippus, + 'I'm going to be a horse, + And on my middle finger-nails + To run my earthly course'---- + +No; that wasn't the first. It begins: + + "There was once a little animal + No bigger than a fox, + And on five toes he scampered---- + +"Of course you know, ma'am--Frank John he told me about it--that horses +were little like that, 'way back. And this one he set his silly head +that he was going to be a really-truly horse, like the song says. And +folks told him he couldn't--couldn't possibly be done, nohow. And sure +enough he did. It's a foolish song, really. I only sing parts of it +when I feel like that--like it couldn't be done and I was going to do +it, you know. The boys call it my song. Look here, ma'am!" He fished in +his vest pocket and produced tobacco and papers, matches--last of all, +a tiny turquoise horse, an inch long. "I had a jeweler-man put five +toes on his feet once to make him be a little eohippus. Going to make +a watch-charm of him sometime. He's a lucky little eohippus, I think. +Peso gave him to me when--never mind when. Peso's a Mescalero Indian, +you know, chief of police at the agency." He gingerly dropped the +little horse into her eager palm. + +It was a singularly grotesque and angular little beast, high-stepping, +high-headed, with a level stare, at once complacent and haughty. +Despite the first unprepossessing rigidity of outline, there was +somehow a sprightly air, something endearing, in the stiff, purposed +stride, the alert, inquiring ears, the stern and watchful eye. Each +tiny hoof was faintly graven to semblance of five tinier toes; there, +the work showed fresh. + +"The cunning little monster!" Prison grime was on him; she groomed +and polished at his dingy sides until the wonderful color shone out +triumphant. "What is it that makes him such a dear? Oh, I know. It's +something--well, child-like, you know. Think of the grown-up child +that toiled with pride and joy at the making of him--dear me, how +many lifetimes since!--and fondly put him by as a complete horse." +She held him up in the sun: the ingrate met her caress with the same +obdurate and indomitable glare. She laughed her rapturous delight: +"There! How much better you look! Oh, you darling! Aren't you absurd? +Straight-backed, stiff-legged, thick-necked, square-headed--and that +ridiculously baleful eye! It's too high up and too far forward, you +know--and your ears are too big--and you have such a malignant look! +Never mind; now that you're all nice and clean, I'm going to reward +you." Her lips just brushed him--the lucky little eohippus. + +The owner of the lucky little horse was not able to repress one swift, +dismal glance at his own vast dishevelment, nor, as his shrinking +hands, entirely of their own volition, crept stealthily to hiding, the +slightest upward rolling of a hopeful eye toward the leaping waters of +the spring; but, if one might judge from her sedate and matter-of-fact +tones, that eloquent glance was wasted on the girl. + +"You ought to take better care of him, you know," she said as she +restored the little monster to his owner. Then she laughed. "Hasn't he +a fierce and warlike appearance, though?" + +"Sure. That's resolution. Look at those legs!" said the owner fondly. +"He spurns the ground. He's going somewheres. He's going to be a +horse! And them ears--one cocked forward and the other back, strictly +on the _cuidado_! He'll make it. He'll certainly do to take along! Yes, +ma'am, I'll take right good care of him." He regarded the homely beast +with awe; he swathed him in cigarette papers with tenderest care. "I'll +leave him at home after this. He might get hurt. I might sometime want +to give him to--somebody." + +The girl sprang up. + +"Now I must get some water and wash that head," she announced briskly. + +"Oh, no--I can't let you do that. I can walk. I ain't hurt a bit, I +keep telling you." In proof of which he walked to the pool with a +palpably clever assumption of steadiness. The girl fluttered solicitous +at his elbow. Then she ran ahead, climbed up to the spring and extended +a firm, cool hand, which he took shamelessly, and so came to the fairy +waterfall. + +Here he made himself presentable as to face and hands. It is just +possible there was a certain expectancy in his eye as he neared the +close of these labors; but if there were it passed unnoted. The girl +bathed the injured head with her handkerchief, and brushed back his +hair with a dainty caressing motion that thrilled him until the color +rose beneath the tan. There was a glint of gray in the wavy black hair, +she noted. + +She stepped back to regard her handiwork. "Now you look better!" she +said approvingly. Then, slightly flurried, not without a memory of a +previous and not dissimilar remark of hers, she was off up the hill: +whence, despite his shocked protest, she brought back the lost gun and +hat. + +Her eyes were sparkling when she returned, her face glowing. Ignoring +his reproachful gaze, she wrung out her handkerchief, led the +patient firmly down the hill and to his saddle, made him trim off a +saddle-string, and bound the handkerchief to the wound. She fitted the +sombrero gently. + +"There! Don't this head feel better now?" she queried gayly, with fine +disregard for grammar. "And now what? Won't you come back to camp with +me? Mr. Lake will be glad to put you up or to let you have a horse. Do +you live far away? I do hope you are not one of those Rosebud men. Mr. +La----" She bit her speech off midword. + +"No men there except this Mr. Lake?" asked the cowboy idly. + +"Oh, yes; there's Mr. Herbert--he's gone riding with Lettie--and Mr. +White; but it was Mr. Lake who got up the camping party. Mother and +Aunt Lot, and a crowd of us girls--La Luz girls, you know. Mother and I +are visiting Mr. Lake's sister. He's going to give us a masquerade ball +when we get back, next week." + +The cowboy looked down his nose for consultation, and his nose gave a +meditative little tweak. + +"What Lake is it? There's some several Lakes round here. Is it Lake of +Aqua Chiquite--wears his hair décolleté; talks like he had a washboard +in his throat; tailor-made face; walks like a duck on stilts; general +sort of pouter-pigeon effect?" + +At this envenomed description, Miss Ellinor Hoffman promptly choked. + +"I don't know anything about your Aqua Chiquite. I never heard of the +place before. He is a banker in Arcadia. He keeps a general store +there. You must know him, surely." So far her voice was rather stern +and purposely resentful, as became Mr. Lake's guest; but there were +complications, rankling memories of Mr. Lake--of unwelcome attentions +persistently forced upon her. She spoiled the rebuke by adding tartly, +"But I think he is the man you mean!" and felt her wrongs avenged. + +The cowboy's face cleared. + +"Well, I don't use Arcadia much, you see. I mostly range down Rainbow +River. Arcadia folks--why, they're mostly newcomers, health-seekers and +people just living on their incomes--not working folks much, except +the railroaders and lumbermen. Now about getting home. You see, ma'am, +some of the boys are riding down that way"--he jerked his thumb to +indicate the last flight of the imperfectly gentle horse--"and they're +right apt to see my runaway eohippus and sure to see the rope-drag; so +they'll likely amble along the back track to see how much who's hurt. +So I guess I'd better stay here. They may be along most any time. Thank +you kindly, just the same. Of course, if they don't come at all----Is +your camp far?" + +"Not--not very," said Ellinor. The mere fact was that Miss Ellinor +had set out ostensibly for a sketching expedition with another girl, +had turned aside to explore, and exploring had fetched a circuit that +had left her much closer to her starting-place than to her goal. He +misinterpreted the slight hesitation. + +"Well, ma'am, thank you again; but I mustn't be keeping you longer. +I really ought to see you safe back to your camp; but--you'll +understand--under the circumstances--you'll excuse me?" + +He did not want to implicate Mr. Lake, so he took a limping step +forward to justify his rudeness. + +"And you hardly able to walk? Ridiculous! What I ought to do is to go +back to camp and get some one--get Mr. White to help you." Thus, at +once accepting his unspoken explanation, and offering her own apology +in turn, she threw aside the air of guarded hostility that had marked +the last minutes and threw herself anew into this joyous adventure. +"When--or if--your friends find you, won't it hurt you to ride?" she +asked, and smiled deliberate encouragement. + +"I can be as modest as anybody when there's anything to be modest +about; but in this case I guess I'll now declare that I can ride +anything that a saddle will stay on.... I reckon," he added +reflectively, "the boys'll have right smart to say about me being +throwed." + +"But you weren't thrown! You rode magnificently!" Her eyes flashed +admiration. + +"Yes'm. That's what I hoped you'd say," said the admired one +complacently. "Go on, ma'am. Say it again." + +"It was splendid! The saddle turned--that's all!" + +He slowly surveyed the scene of his late exploit. + +"Ye--es, that was some riding--for a while," he admitted. "But you see, +that saddle now, scarred up that way--why, they'll think the eohippus +wasted me and then dragged the saddle off under a tree. Leastways, +they'll say they think so, frequent. Best not to let on and to make no +excuses. It'll be easier that way. We're great on guying here. That's +most all the fun we have. We sure got this joshing game down fine. Just +wondering what all the boys'd say--that was why I didn't get out of the +water at first, before--before I thought I was asleep, you know." + +"So you'll actually tell a lie to keep from being thought a liar? I'm +disappointed in you." + +"Why, ma'am, I won't say anything. They'll do the talking." + +"It'll be deceitful, just the same," she began, and checked herself +suddenly. A small twinge struck her at the thought of poor Maud, really +sketching on Thumb Butte, and now disconsolately wondering what had +become of lunch and fellow-artist; but she quelled this pang with a +sage thought of the greatest good to the greatest number, and clapped +her hands in delight. "Oh, what a silly I am, to be sure! I've got a +lunch basket up there, but I forgot all about it in the excitement. +I'm sure there's plenty for two. Shall I bring it down to you or can +you climb up if I help you? There's water in the canteen--and it's +beautiful up there." + +"I can make it, I guess," said the invited guest--the consummate and +unblushing hypocrite. Make it he did, with her strong hand to aid; and +the glen rang to the laughter of them. While behind them, all unnoted, +Johnny Dines reined up on the hillside; took one sweeping glance at +that joyous progress, the scarred hillside, the saddle and the dejected +eohippus in the background; grinned comprehension, and discreetly +withdrew. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + MAXWELTON BRAES + + "Oh the song--the song in the blood! + Magic walks the forest; there's bewitchment on the air-- + Spring is at the flood!" + + --_The Gypsy Heart._ + + + "Well, sir, this here feller, he lit a cigarette an' throwed away + the match, an' it fell in a powder kaig; an' do you know, more'n + half that powder burned up before they could put it out! Yes, + sir!"--WILDCAT THOMPSON. + + +Ellinor opened her basket and spread its tempting wares with pretty +hostly care--or is there such a word as hostessly? + +"There! All ready, Mr.----I declare, this is too absurd! We don't even +know each other's names!" Her conscious eye fell upon the ampleness +of the feast--amazing, since it purported to have been put up for one +alone; and her face lit up with mischievous delight. She curtsied. "If +you please, I'm the Ultimate Consumer!" + +He rose, bowing gravely. + +"I am the Personal Devil. Glad to meet you." + +"Oh! I've heard of you!" remarked the Ultimate Consumer sweetly. She +sat down and extended her hand across the spotless linen. "Mr. Lake +says----" + +The Personal Devil flushed. It was not because of the proffered hand, +which he took unhesitatingly and held rather firmly. The blush was +unmistakably caused by anger. + +"There is no connection whatever," he stated, grimly enough, "between +the truth and Mr. Lake's organs of speech." + +"Oh!" cried the Ultimate Consumer triumphantly. "So you're Mr. Beebe?" + +"Bransford--Jeff Bransford," corrected the Personal Devil crustily. He +wilfully relapsed to his former slipshod speech. "Beebe, he's gone to +the Pecos work, him and Ballinger. Mr. John Wesley Also-Ran Pringle's +gone to Old Mexico to bring back another bunch of black, long-horned +Chihuahuas. You now behold before you the last remaining Rose of +Rosebud. But, why Beebe?" + +"Why does Mr. Lake hate all of you so, Mr. Bransford?" + +"Because we are infamous scoundrels. Why Beebe?" + +"I can't eat with one hand, Mr. Bransford," she said demurely. He +looked at the prisoned hand with a start and released it grudgingly. +"Help yourself," said his hostess cheerfully. "There's sandwiches, and +roast beef and olives, for a mild beginning." + +"Why Beebe?" he said doggedly. + +"Help yourself to the salad and then please pass it over this way. +Thank you." + +"Why Beebe?" + +"Oh, very well then! Because of the little eohippus, you know--and +other things you said." + +"I see!" said the aggrieved Bransford. "Because I'm not from Ohio, like +Beebe, I'm not supposed----" + +"Oh, if you're going to be fussy! I'm from California myself, Mr. +Bransford. Out in the country at that. Don't let's quarrel, please. +We were having such a lovely time. And I'll tell you a secret. It's +ungrateful of me, and I ought not to; but I don't care--I don't like +Mr. Lake much since we came on this trip. And I don't believe----" She +paused, pinkly conscious of the unconventional statement involved in +this sudden unbelief. + +"----what Lake says about us?" A much-mollified Bransford finished the +sentence for her. + +She nodded. Then, to change the subject: + +"You do speak cowboy talk one minute--and all booky, polite and proper +the next, you know. Why?" + +"Bad associations," said Bransford ambiguously. "Also for 'tis my +nature to, as little dogs they do delight to bark and bite. That beef +sure tastes like more." + + * * * * * + +"And now you may smoke while I pack up," announced the girl when +dessert was over, at long last. "And please, there is something I want +to ask you about. Will you tell me truly?" + +"Um--you sing?" + +"Yes--a little." + +"If you will sing for me afterward?" + +"Certainly. With pleasure." + +"All right, then. What's the story about?" + +Ellinor gave him her eyes. "Did you rob the post-office at +Escondido--really?" + +Now it might well be embarrassing to be asked if you had committed a +felony; but there was that behind the words of this naïve query--in +look, in tone, in mental attitude--an unflinching and implicit faith +that, since he had seen fit to do this thing, it must needs have been +the right and wise thing to do, which stirred the felon's pulses to +a pleasant flutter and caused a certain tough and powerful muscle to +thump foolishly at his ribs. The delicious intimacy, the baseless +faith, was sweet to him. + +"Sure, I did!" he answered lightly. "Lake is one talkative little man, +isn't he? Fie, fie! But, shucks! What can you expect? 'The beast will +do after his kind.'" + +"And you'll tell me about it?" + +"After I smoke. Got to study up some plausible excuses, you know." + +She studied him as she packed. It was a good face--lined, strong, +expressive, vivid; gay, resolute, confident, alert--reckless, +perhaps. There were lines of it disused, fallen to abeyance. What was +well with the man had prospered; what was ill with him had faded and +dimmed. He was not a young man--thirty-seven, thirty-eight--(she was +twenty-four)--but there was an unquenchable boyishness about him, +despite the few frosty hairs at his temples. He bore his hard years +jauntily: youth danced in his eyes. The explorer nodded to herself, +well pleased. He was interesting--different. + +The tale suffered from Bransford's telling, as any tale will suffer +when marred by the inevitable, barbarous modesty of its hero. It was a +long story, cozily confidential; and there were interruptions. The sun +was low ere it was done. + +"Now the song," said Jeff, "and then----" He did not complete the +sentence; his face clouded. + +"What shall I sing?" + +"How can I tell? What you will. What can I know about good songs--or +anything else?" responded Bransford in sudden moodiness and +dejection--for, after the song, the end of everything! He flinched at +the premonition of irrevocable loss. + +The girl made no answer. This is what she sang. No; you shall not be +told of her voice. Perhaps there is a voice that you remember, that +echoes to you through the dusty years. How would you like to describe +that? + + "Oh, Sandy has monie and Sandy has land, + And Sandy has housen, sae fine and sae grand-- + But I'd rather hae Jamie, wi' nocht in his hand, + Than Sandy, wi' all of his housen and land. + + "My father looks sulky; my mither looks soor; + They gloom upon Jamie because he is poor. + I lo'e them baith dearly, as a docther should do; + But I lo'e them not half sae weel, dear Jamie, as you! + + "I sit at my cribbie, I spin at my wheel; + I think o' the laddie that lo'es me sae weel. + Oh, he had but a saxpence, he brak it in twa, + And he gied me the half o't ere he gaed awa'! + + "He said: 'Lo'e me lang, lassie, though I gang awa'!' + He said: 'Lo'e me lang, lassie, though I gang awa'!' + Bland simmer is cooming; cauld winter's awa', + And I'll wed wi' Jamie in spite o' them a'!" + +Jeff's back was to a tree, his hat over his eyes. He pushed it up. + +"Thank you," he said; and then, quite directly: "Are you rich?" + +"Not--very," said Ellinor, a little breathless at the blunt query. + +"I'm going to be rich," said Jeff steadily. + +"'I'm going to be a horse,' quoth the little eohippus." The girl +retorted saucily, though secretly alarmed at the import of this +examination. + +"Ex-actly. So that's settled. What is your name?" + +"Hoffman." + +"Where do you live, Hoffman?" + +"Ellinor," supplemented the girl. + +"Ellinor, then. Where do you live, Ellinor?" + +"In New York--just now. Not in town. Upstate. On a farm. You see, +grandfather's growing old--and he wanted father to come back." + +"New York's not far," said Jeff. + +A sudden panic seized the girl. What next? In swift, instinctive +self-defense she rose and tripped to the tree where lay her neglected +sketch-book, bent over--and started back with a little cry of alarm. +With a spring and a rush, Jeff was at her side, caught her up and +glared watchfully at bush and shrub and tufted grass. + +"Mr. Bransford! Put me down!" + +"What was it? A rattlesnake?" + +"A snake? What an idea! I just noticed how late it was. I must go." + +Crestfallen, sheepishly, Mr. Bransford put her down, thrust his hands +into his pockets, tilted his chin and whistled an aggravating little +trill from the Rye twostep. + +"Mr. Bransford!" said Ellinor haughtily. + +Mr. Bransford's face expressed patient attention. + +"Are you lame?" + +Mr. Bransford's eye estimated the distance covered during the recent +snake episode, and then gave to Miss Hoffman a look of profound +respect. His shoulders humped up slightly; his head bowed to the +stroke: he stood upon one foot and traced the Rainbow brand in the dust +with the other. + +"I told you all along I wasn't hurt," he said aggrieved. "Didn't I, +now?" + +"Are you lame?" she repeated severely, ignoring his truthful saying. + +"'Not--very.'" The quotation marks were clearly audible. + +"Are you lame at all?" + +"No, ma'am--not what you might call really lame. Uh--no, ma'am." + +"And you deceived me like that!" Indignation checked her. "Oh, I am so +disappointed in you! That was a fine, manly thing for you to do!" + +"It was such a lovely time," observed the culprit doggedly. "And such a +chance might never happen again. And it isn't my fault I wasn't hurt, +you know. I'm sure I wish I was." + +She gave him an icy glare. + +"Now see what you've done! Your men haven't come and you won't stay +with Mr. Lake. How are you going to get home? Oh, I forgot--you can +walk, as you should have done at first." + +The guilty wretch wilted yet further. He shuffled his feet; he +writhed; he positively squirmed. He ventured a timid upward glance. It +seemed to give him courage. Prompted, doubtless, by the same feeling +which drives one to dive headlong into dreaded cold water, he said, in +a burst of candor: + +"Well, you see, ma'am, that little horse now--he really ain't got far. +He got tangled up over there a ways----" + +The girl wheeled and shot a swift, startled glance at the little +eohippus on the hillside, who had long since given over his futile +struggles and was now nibbling grass with becoming resignation. She +turned back to Bransford. Slowly, scathingly, she looked him over +from head to foot and slowly back again. Her expression ran the +gamut--wonder, anger, scorn, withering contempt. + +"I think I hate you!" she flamed at him. + +Amazement triumphed over the other emotions then--a real amazement: the +detected impostor had resumed his former debonair bearing and met her +scornful eye with a slow and provoking smile. + +"Oh, no, you don't," he said reassuringly. "On the contrary, you don't +hate me at all!" + +"I'm going home, anyhow," she retorted bitterly. "You may draw your own +conclusions." + +Still, she did not go, which possibly had a confusing effect upon his +inferences. + +"Just one minute, ma'am, if you please. How did you know so pat where +the little black horse was? _I_ didn't tell you." + +Little waves of scarlet followed each other to her burning face. + +"I'm not going to stay another moment. You're detestable! And it's +nearly sundown." + +"Oh, you needn't hurry. It's not far." + +She followed his gesture. To her intense mortification she saw the blue +smoke of her home campfire flaunting up from a gully not half a mile +away. It was her turn to droop now. She drooped. + +There was a painful silence. Then, in a far-off, hard, judicial tone: + +"How long, ma'am, if I may ask, have you known that the little black +horse was tangled up?" + +Miss Ellinor's eyes shifted wildly. She broke a twig from a mahogany +bush and examined the swelling buds with minutest care. + +"Well?" said her ruthless inquisitor sternly. + +"Since--since I went for your hat," she confessed in a half whisper. + +"To deceive me so!" Pain, grief, surprise, reproach, were in his words. +"Have you anything to say?" he added sadly. + +A slender shoe peeped out beneath her denim skirt and tapped on +a buried boulder. Ellinor regarded the toetip with interest and +curiosity. Then, half-audibly: + +"We were having such a good time.... And it might never happen again!" + +He captured both her hands. She drew back a little--ever so little; she +trembled slightly, but her eyes met his frankly and bravely. + +"No, no!... Not now.... Go, now, Mr. Bransford. Go at once. We will +have a pleasant day to remember." + +"Until the next pleasant day," said resolute Bransford, openly +exultant. "But see here, now--I can't go to Lake's camp or to Lake's +ball"--here Miss Ellinor pouted distinctly--"or anything that is +Lake's. After your masked ball, then what?" + +"New York; but it's only so far--on the map." She held her hands apart +very slightly to indicate the distance. "On a little map, that is." + +"I'll drop in Saturdays," said Jeff. + +"Do! I want to hear you sing the rest about the little eohippus." + +"If you'll sing about Sandy!" suggested Jeff. + +"Why not? Good-by now--I must go." + +"And you won't sing about Sandy to any one else?" + +The girl considered doubtfully. + +"Why--I don't know--I've known you for a very little while, if you +please." She gathered up her belongings. "But we're friends?" + +"_No! No!_" said Jeff vehemently. "You won't sing it to any one +else--Ellinor?" + +She drew a line in the dust. + +"If you won't cross that line," she said, "I'll tell you." + +Mr. Bransford grasped a sapling with a firm clutch and shook it to try +its strength. + +"A bird in the bush is the noblest work of God," he announced. "I'll +take a chance." + +Her eyes were shining. + +"You've promised!" she said. She paused: when she spoke again her voice +was low and a trifle unsteady. "I won't sing about Sandy to--any one +else--Jeff!" + +Then she fled. + +Like Lot's wife, she looked back from the hillside. Jeff clung +desperately to the sapling with one hand; from the other a +handkerchief--hers--fluttered a good-by message. She threw him a +farewell, with an ambiguous gesture. + + * * * * * + +It was late when Jeff reached Rosebud Camp. He unsaddled Nigger Baby, +the little and not entirely gentle black horse, rather unobtrusively; +but Johnny Dines sauntered out during the process, announcing supper. + +"Huh!" sniffed Jeff. "S'pose I thought you'd wait until I come to get +it?" + +Nothing more alarming than tallies was broached during supper, however. +Afterward, Johnny tilted his chair back and, through cigarette smoke, +contemplated the ceiling with innocent eyes. + +"Nigger Babe looks drawed," he suggested. + +"Uh-huh. Had one of them poor spells of his." + +Puff, puff. + +"Your saddle's skinned up a heap." + +"Run under a tree." + +Johnny's look of innocence grew more pronounced. + +"How'd you get your clothes so wet?" + +"Rain," said Jeff. + +Puff, puff. + +"You look right muddy too." + +"Dust in the air," said Jeff. + +"Ah!--yes." Silence during the rolling of another cigarette. Then: +"How'd you get that cut on your head?" + +Jeff's hand went to his head and felt the bump there. He regarded his +fingers in some perplexity. + +"That? Oh, that's where I bit myself!" He stalked off to bed in gloomy +dignity. + +Half an hour later Johnny called softly: + +"Jeff!" + +Jeff grunted sulkily. + +"Camping party down near Mayhill. Lot o' girls. I saw one of 'em. Young +person with eyes and hair." + +Jeff grunted again. There was a long silence. + +"Nice bear!" There was no answer. + +"_Good_ old bear!" said Johnny tearfully. No answer. "Mister Bear, if I +give you one nice, good, juicy bite----" + +"_U--ugg--rrh!_" said Jeff. + +"Then," said Johnny decidedly, "I'll sleep in the yard." + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + THE ROAD TO ROME + + "Behold, one journeyed in the night. + He sang amid the wind and rain; + My wet sands gave his feet delight-- + When will that traveler come again?" + + --_The Heart of the Road_, + ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH. + + +A hypotenuse, as has been well said, is the longest side of a +right-angled triangle. There is no need for details. That we are +all familiar with the use of this handy little article is shown by +the existence of shortcuts at every available opportunity, and by +keep-off-o'-the-grass signs in parks. + +Now, had Jeff Bransford desired to go to Arcadia--to that masquerade, +for instance--his direct route from Jackson's Ranch would have been +cater-cornered across the desert, as has been amply demonstrated by +Pythagoras and others. + +That Jeff did not want to go to Arcadia--to the masked ball, for +instance--is made apparent by the fact that the afternoon preceding +said ball saw him jogging southward toward Baird's, along the lonely +base of that inveterate triangle whereof Jackson's, Baird's and +Arcadia are the respective corners, leaving the fifty-five-mile +hypotenuse far to his left. It was also obvious from the tenor of his +occasional self-communings. + +"I don't want to make a bally fool of myself--do I, old Grasshopper? +Anyhow, you'll be too tired when we get to 'Gene's." + +Grasshopper made no response, other than a plucky tossing of his bit +and a quickening cadence in his rhythmical stride, by way of pardonable +bravado. + +"I never forced myself in where my company wasn't wanted yet, and I +ain't going to begin now," asserted Jeff stoutly; adding, as a fervent +afterthought: "Damn Lake!" + +His way lay along the plain, paralleling the long westward range, +just far enough out to dodge the jutting foothills; through bare +white levels where Grasshopper's hoofs left but a faint trace on the +hard-glazed earth. At intervals, tempting cross-roads branched away +to mountain springs. The cottonwood at Independent Springs came into +view round the granite shoulder of Strawberry, six miles to the right +of him. He roused himself from prolonged pondering of the marvelous +silhouette, where San Andres unflung in broken masses against the sky, +to remark in a hushed whisper: + +"I wonder if she'd be glad to see me?" + +Several miles later he quoted musingly: + + "For Ellinor--her Christian name was Ellinor-- + Had twenty-seven different kinds of hell in her!" + +After all, there are problems which Pythagoras never solved. + +The longest road must have an end. Ritch's Ranch was passed far to +the right, lying low in the long shadow of Kaylor; then the mouth of +Hembrillo Cañon; far ahead, a shifting flicker of Baird's windmill +topped the brush. It grew taller; the upper tower took shape. He dipped +into the low, mirage-haunted basin, where the age-old Texas Trail +crosses the narrow western corner of the White Sands. When he emerged +the windmill was tall and silver-shining; the low iron roofs of the +house gloomed sullen in the sun. + +Dust rose from the corral. Now Jeff's ostensible errand to the +West Side had been the search for strays; three days before he had +prudently been three days' ride farther to the north. The reluctance +with which he had turned back southward was justified by the fact +that this critical afternoon found him within striking distance of +Arcadia--striking distance, that is, should he care for a bit of hard +riding. This was exactly what Jeff had fought against all along. So, +when he saw the dust, he loped up. + +It was as he had feared. A band of horses was in the waterpen; +among them a red-roan head he knew--Copperhead, of Pringle's mount; +confirmed runaway. Jeff shut the gate. For the first time that day, he +permitted himself a discreet glance eastward to Arcadia. + +"Three days," he said bitterly, while Grasshopper thrust his eager +muzzle into the water-trough--"three days I have braced back my feet +and slid, like a yearlin' at a brandin' bee--and look at me now! Oh, +Copperhead, you darned old fool, see what you done now!" + +In this morose mood he went to the house. There was no one at home. A +note was tacked on the door. + + Gone to Plomo. Back in two or three days. Beef hangs under platform + on windmill tower. When you get it, oil the mill. Books and deck of + cards in box under bed. Don't leave fire in stove when you go. + + GENE BAIRD. + + N. B.--Feed the cat. + +Jeff built a fire in the stove and unsaddled the weary Grasshopper. +He found some corn, which he put into a woven-grass _morral_ and hung +on Grasshopper's nose. He went to the waterpen, roped out Copperhead +and shut him in a side corral. Then he let the bunch go. They strained +through the gate in a mad run, despite shrill and frantic remonstrance +from Copperhead. + +"Jeff," said Jeff soberly, "are you going to be a damned fool all your +life? That girl doesn't care anything about you. She hasn't thought of +you since. You stay right here and read the pretty books. That's the +place for you." + +This advice was sound and wise beyond cavil. So Jeff took it valiantly. +After supper he hobbled Grasshopper and took off the nosebag. Then he +went to the back room in pursuit of literature. + + * * * * * + +Have I leave for a slight digression, to commit a long-delayed act of +justice--to correct a grievous wrong? Thank you. + +We hear much of Mr. Andrew Carnegie and His Libraries, the Hall +of Fame, the Little Red Schoolhouse, the Five-Foot Shelf, and the +World's Best Books. A singular thing is that the most effective bit +of philanthropy along these lines has gone unrecorded of a thankless +world. This shall no longer be. + +Know, then, that once upon a time a certain soulless corporation, +rather in the tobacco trade, placed in each package of tobacco a +coupon, each coupon redeemable by one paper-bound book. Whether they +were moved by remorse to this action or by sordid hidden purposes +of their own, or, again, by pure, disinterested and farseeing love +of their kind, is not yet known; but the results remain. There +were three hundred and three volumes on that list, mostly--but not +altogether--fiction. And each one was a classic. Classics are cheap. +They are not copyrighted. Could I but know the anonymous benefactor +who enrolled that glorious company, how gladly would I drop a leaf on +his bier or a cherry in his bitters! + +Thus it was that, in one brief decade, the cowboys, with others, became +comparatively literate. Cowboys all smoked. Doubtless that was a chief +cause contributory to making them the wrecks they were. It destroyed +their physique; it corroded and ate away their will power--leaving them +seldom able to work over nineteen hours a day, except in emergencies; +prone to abandon duty in the face of difficulty or danger, when human +effort, raised to the _n_th power, could do no more--all things +considered, the most efficient men of their hands on record. + +Cowboys all smoked: and the most deep-seated instinct of the human race +is to get something for nothing. They got those books. In due course of +time they read those books. Some were slow to take to it; but when you +stay at lonely ranches, when you are left afoot until the waterholes +dry up, so you may catch a horse in the waterpen--why, you must do +something. The books were read. Then, having acquired the habit, +they bought more books. Since the three hundred and three were all +real books, and since the cowboys had been previously uncorrupted of +predigested or sterilized fiction, or by "gift," "uplift" and "helpful" +books, their composite taste had become surprisingly good, and they +bought with discriminating care. Nay, more. A bookcase follows books; a +bookcase demands a house; a house needs a keeper; a housekeeper needs +everything. Hence alfalfa--houseplants--slotless tables--bankbooks. +The chain which began with yellow coupons ends with Christmas trees. +In some proudest niche in the Hall of Fame a grateful nation will yet +honor that hitherto unrecognized educator, Front de Bœuf.[1] + +[Footnote 1: "_Bull Durham._"] + + * * * * * + +Jeff pawed over the tattered yellow-backed volumes in profane +discontent. He had read them all. Another box was under the bed, behind +the first. Opening it, he saw a tangled mass of clothing, tumbled in +the bachelor manner; with the rest, a much-used football outfit--canvas +jacket, sweater, padded trousers, woolen stockings, rubber noseguard, +shinguards, ribbed shoes--all complete; for 'Gene Baird was fullback of +the El Paso eleven. + +Jeff segregated the gridiron wardrobe with hasty hands. His eye +brightened; he spoke in an awed and almost reverent voice. + +"I ain't mostly superstitious, but this looks like a leading. First, +I'm here; second, Copperhead's here; third, no one else is here; and, +for the final miracle, here's a costume made to my hand. Thirty-five +miles. Ten o'clock, if I hurry. H'm! 'When first I put this uniform +on'--how did that go? I'm forgetting all my songs. Getting old, I +guess." + +Rejecting the heavy shoes, as unmeet for waxed floors, and the +shinguards, he rolled the rest of the uniform in his slicker and tied +it behind his saddle. Then he rubbed his chin. + +"Huh! That's a true saying, too. I am getting old. Youth turns to +youth. Buck up, Jeff, you old fool! Have some pride about you and just +a little old horse-sense." + +Yet he unhobbled Grasshopper, who might then be trusted to find his way +to Rainbow in about three days. He went to the corral and tossed a rope +on snorting Copperhead. "No; I won't go!" he said, as he slipped on the +bridle. "Just to uncock old Copperhead, I'll make a little horse-ride +to Hospital Springs and look through the stock." He threw on the saddle +with some difficulty--Copperhead was fat and frisky. "She don't want to +see you, Jeff--an old has-been like you! No, no; I'd better not go. I +won't! There, if I didn't leave that football stuff on the saddle! I'll +take it off. It might get lost. Whoa, Copperhead!" + +Copperhead, however, declined to whoa on any terms. His eyes bulged +out; he reared, he pawed, he snorted, he bucked, he squealed, he did +anything but whoa. Exasperated, Jeff caught the bridle by the cheek +piece and swung into the saddle. After a few preliminaries in the +pitching line, Jeff started bravely for Hospital Springs. + +It was destined that this act of renunciation should be thwarted. +Copperhead stopped and dug his feet in the ground as if about to take +root. Jeff dug the spurs home. With an agonized bawl, Copperhead made a +creditable ascension, shook himself and swapped ends before he hit the +ground again. "_Wooh!_" he said. His nose was headed now for Arcadia; +he followed his nose, his roan flanks fanned vigorously with a doubled +rope. + +"Headstrong, stubborn, unmanageable brute! Oh, well, have it your own +way then, you old fool! You'll be sorry!" Copperhead leaped out to the +loosened rein. "This is just plain kidnapping!" said Jeff. + +Kidnapped and kidnapper were far out on the plain as night came on. +Arcadia road stretched dimly to the east; the far lights of La Luz +flashed through the leftward dusk; straight before them was a glint +and sparkle in the sky, faint, diffused, wavering; beyond, a warm and +mellow glow broke the blackness of the mountain wall, where the lights +of low-hidden Arcadia beat up against Rainbow Rim. + +Jeff was past his first vexation; he sang as he rode: + + "There was ink on her thumb when I kissed her hand, + And she whispered: 'If you should die + I'd write you an epitaph, gloomy and grand!' + 'Time enough for that!' says I. + +"Keep a-movin here, Copperhead! Time fugits right along. You will play +hooky, will you? 'I'm going to be a horse!'" + + + + + CHAPTER V + + THE MASKERS + + "For Ellinor (her Christian name was Ellinor) + Had twenty-seven different kinds of hell in her." + + --RICHARD HOVEY. + + +It lacked little of the eleventh hour when the football player reached +the ballroom--last comer to the revels. A bandage round his head and +a rubber noseguard, which also hid his mouth, served for a mask, eked +out by crisscrossed strips of courtplaster. One arm was in a sling--for +stage purposes only. + +As he limped through the door, Diogenes hurried to meet him, held up +his lantern, peered hopefully into the battered face and shook his +disappointed head. "Stung again!" muttered Diogenes. + +Jeff lisped in numbers which fully verified the cynic's misgiving. +"7--11--4--11--44!" he announced jerkily. This was strictly in +character and also excused him from entangling talk, leaving him free +to search the whirl of dancers. + +A bulky Rough Rider volunteered his help. He fixed a gleaming eyeglass +on his nose and politely offered Jeff a Big Stick by way of a +crutch. "Hit the line hard!" he barked. He bit the words off with a +prize-bulldog effect. He had fine teeth. + +Jeff waved him off. "16--2--1!" he proclaimed controversially. He felt +his spirits sinking, with a growing doubt of his ability to identify +the Only One, and was impatient of interruption. He kept his slow and +watchful way down the floor. + +Topsy broke away from her partner and stopped Jeff's crippled progress. +Her short hair, braided to a dozen tight and tiny pigtails, bristled +away in all directions. + +"Laws, young marsta', you suhtenly does look puny!" she said. Then she +clutched at her knee. "_Aie!_" she tittered, as a loose red stocking +dropped flappingly to her ankle. Pray do not be shocked. The effect +was startling; but a black stocking, decorously tight and smooth, was +beneath the red one. Jeff's mathematics were not equal to the strain +of adequate comment. Topsy dived to the rescue. "Got a string?" she +giggled, as she hitched the fallen stocking back to place. "I cain't +fix this good nohow!" + +Jeff jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Man over there with an +eyeglass cord--maybe you can get that. What makes you act so?" He +looked cold disapproval; nevertheless, he looked. + +Topsy hung her head, still clutching at the stocking-top. "Dunno. I +spec's it's 'cause Ise so wicked!" Finger in mouth, she looked after +Jeff as he hobbled away. + +A slender witch bounced from a chair and barred his way with a broom. +Her eyes were brimming sorcery; her lips looked saucy challenge; she +leaned close for a whispered word in his ear: "How would you like to +tackle me?" + +Poor Jeff! "10, 2--10, 2!" he promised huskily. Yet he ducked beneath +the broom. + +"But," said the little witch plaintively, "you're going away!" She +dropped her broom and wept. + +"8, 2--8, 2--8, 2!" said Jeff, almost in tears himself, and again fell +back upon English. "Mere figures or mere words can't tell you how much +I hate to; but I've got to follow the ball. I'm looking for a fellow." + +"If he--if he doesn't love you," sobbed the stricken witch, "then +you'll come back to me--won't you? I love a liar!" + +"To the very stake!" vowed Jeff. Such heroic, if conditional, constancy +was not to go unrewarded. A couple detached themselves from the +dancers, threaded their way to a corner of the long hall and stood +there in deep converse. Jeff quickened pulse and pace--for one was a +Red Devil and the other wore the soft gray costume of a Friend. She +was tall, this Quakeress, and the hobnobbing devil was of Jeff's own +height. Jeff began to hope for a goal. + +Briskly limping, he came to this engrossed couple and laid a friendly +hand on the devil's shoulder. + +"Brother," he said cordially, "will you please go to--home?" + +The devil recoiled an astonished step. + +"What? What!! Show me your license!" + +"Twenty-three!--Please!--there's a good devil--23! I'm the right guard +for this lady, I hope. Oh, please to go home!" + +The devil took this request in very bad part. + +"Go back fifteen yards for offside play and take a drop kick at +yourself!" he suggested sourly. + +A burly policeman, plainly conscious of fitting his uniform, paused for +warning. + +"No scrappin' now! Don't start nothin' or I'll run in the t'ree av +yees!" he said, and sauntered on, twirling a graceful nightstick. + +"Thee is a local man, judging from thy letters," said the Quaker lady, +to relieve the somewhat strained situation. "What do they stand for? E. +P.? Oh, yes--El Paso, of course!" + +"I saw you first!" said the Red Devil. "And with your disposition you +would naturally find me more suitable. Make your choice of gridirons! +Send him back to the side lines! Disqualify him for interference!" + +"Don't be hurried into a decision," said Jeff. "Eternity is a good +while. Before it's over I'm going to be a--well, something more than a +footballer. Golf, maybe--or tiddledywinks." + +The Quakeress glanced attentively from one to the other. + +"Doubtless he will do his best to forward Thy Majesty's interests," she +interposed. "Why not give him a chance?" + +The devil shrugged his shoulders. "I always prefer to give this branch +of work my personal attention," he said stiffly. + +"A specialty of thine?" mocked the girl. + +The devil bowed sulkily. + +"My heart is in it. Of course, if you prefer the bungling of a novice, +there is no more to be said." + +"Thy Majesty's manners have never been questioned," murmured the +Quakeress, bowing dismissal. "So kind of you!" + +The devil bowed deeply and turned, pausing to hurl a gloomy prophecy +over his shoulder. "See you later!" he said, and stalked away with an +ill grace. + +Pigskin hero and girl Friend, left alone, eyed each other with mutual +apprehension. The girl Friend was first to recover speech. Her red lips +were prim below her vizor, her eyes downcast to hide their dancing +lights. Timidly she spread out fanwise the dove color of her sober +costume. + +"How does thee like my gray gown?" + +"Not at all," said Jeff brutally. "You're no friend of mine, I hope." + +A most un-Quakerlike dimple trembled to her chin, relieving the firm +austerity of straight lips. Also, Jeff caught a glimpse of her eyes +through the vizor. They were crinkling--and they were brown. She +ventured another tentative remark, and there was in it an undertone +lingering, softly confidential. + +"Is thee lame?" + +"Not--very," said Jeff, and saw a faint color start to the unmasked +moiety of the Quaker cheek. "Still, if I may have the next dance, I +shall be glad if you will sit it out with me." Painfully he raised the +beslinged arm in explanation. _Sobre las Olas_ throbbed out its wistful +call; they set their thought to its haunting measure. + +"By all means!" She took his undamaged arm. "Let us find chairs." + +Now there were chairs to the left of them, chairs to the right of them, +chairs vacant everywhere; but the gallant Six Hundred themselves were +not more heedless or undismayed than these two. Still, all the world +did not wonder. On the contrary, not even the anxious devil saw them +after they passed behind a knot of would-be dancers who were striving +to disentangle themselves. For, seeing traffic thus blocked, the +policeman rushed to unsnarl the tangle. Magnificently he flourished his +stick. He adjured them roughly: "Move on, yous! Move on!" Whereat, +with one impulse, the tangle moved on the copper, swept over him, +engulfed him, hustled him to the door and threw him out. + +So screened, the chair-hunters vanished in far less than a +psychological moment: for Jeff, in obedience to a faint or fancied +pressure on his arm, dived through portières into a small room set +apart for such as had the heart to prefer cards or chess. The room was +deserted now and there was a broad window open to the night. Thus, +thrice favored of Providence, they found themselves in the garden, +chairless but cheerful. + +A garden with one Eve is the perfect combination in a world awry. +Muffled, the music and the sounds of the ballroom came faint and far +to them; star-made shadows danced at their feet. The girl paused, +expectant; but it was the unexpected that happened. The nimble tongue +which had done such faithful service for Mr. Bransford now failed him +quite: left him struggling, dumb, inarticulate, helpless--tongue and +hand alike forgetful of their cunning. + +Be sure the maid had adroitly heard much of Mr. Bransford, his deeds +and misdeeds, during the tedious interval since their first meeting. +Report had dwelt lovingly upon Mr. Bransford's eloquence at need. This +awkward silence was a tribute of sincerity above question. + +With difficulty Ellinor mastered a wild desire to ask where the +cat had gone. "Oh, come ye in peace here or come ye in war?" Such +injudicious quotation trembled on the tip of her tongue, but she +suppressed it--barely in time. She felt herself growing nervous with +the fear lest she should be hurried into some all too luminous speech. +And still Jeff stood there, lost, speechless, helpless, unready, a +clumsy oaf, an object of pity. Pity at last, or a kindred feeling, +drove her to the rescue. And, just as she had feared, she said, in her +generous haste, far too much. + +"I thought you were not coming?" + +The inflection made a question of this statement. Also, by implication, +it answered so many questions yet unworded that Jeff was able to use +his tongue again; but it was not the trusty tongue of yore--witness +this wooden speech: + +"You mean you thought I said I wasn't coming--don't you? You knew I +would come." + +"Indeed? How should I know what you would do? I've only seen you once. +Aren't you forgetting that?" + +"Why else did you make up as a Friend then?" + +"Oh! Oh, dear, these men! There's conceit for you! I chose my costume +solely to trap Mr. Bransford's eye? Is that it? Doubtless all my +thoughts have centered on Mr. Bransford since I first saw him!" + +"You know I didn't mean that, Miss Ellinor. I----" + +"Miss Hoffman, if you please!" + +"Miss Hoffman. Don't be mean to me. I've only got an hour----" + +"An hour! Do you imagine for one second----Why, I mustn't stay here. +This is really a farewell dance given in my honor. We go back East day +after to-morrow. I must go in." + +"Only one little hour. And I have come a long ways for my hour. They +take their masks off at midnight--don't they? And of course I can't +stay after that. I want only just to ask you----" + +"Why did you come then? Isn't it rather unusual to go uninvited to a +ball?" + +"Why, I reckon you nearly know why I come, Miss Hoffman; but if you +want me to say precisely, ma'am----" + +"I don't!" + +"We'll keep that for a surprise, then. Another thing: I wanted to +find out just where you live in New York. I forgot to ask you. And I +couldn't very well go round asking folks after you're gone--could I? +Of course I didn't have any invitation--from Mr. Lake; but I thought, +if he didn't know it, he wouldn't mind me just stepping in to get your +address." + +"Well, of all the assurance!" said Miss Ellinor. "Do you intend to +start up a correspondence with me without even the formality of asking +my consent?" + +"Why, Miss Ellinor, ma'am, I thought----" + +"Miss Hoffman, sir! Yes--and there's another thing. You said you had +no invitation--from Mr. Lake. Does that mean, by any chance, that I +invited you?" + +"You didn't say a word about my coming," said Jeff. He was a flustered +man, this poor Bransford, but he managed to put a slight stress upon +the word "say." + +Miss Ellinor--Miss Hoffman--caught this faint emphasis instantly. + +"Oh, I didn't _say_ anything? I just looked an invitation, I suppose?" +she stormed. "Melting eyes--and that sort of thing? Tears in them, +maybe? Poor girl! Poor little child! It would be cruel to let her go +home without seeing me again. I will give her a little more happiness, +poor thing, and write to her a while. Maybe it would be wiser, though, +just to make a quarrel and break loose at once. She'll get over it in a +little while after she gets back to New York. Well! Upon my word!" + +As she advanced these horrible suppositions, Miss Hoffman had marked +out a short beat of garden path--five steps and a turn; five steps +back and whirl again--with, on the whole, a caged-tigress effect. With +a double-quick at each turn to keep his place at her elbow, Jeff, +utterly aghast at the damnable perversity of everything on earth, +vainly endeavored to make coördinate and stumbling remonstrance. As +she stopped for breath, Jeff heard his own voice at last, propounding +to the world at large a stunned query as to whether the abode of lost +spirits could afford aught to excel the present situation. The remark +struck him: he paused to wonder what other things he had been saying. + +Miss Ellinor walked her beat, vindictive. Her chin was at an angle of +complacency. She turned up the perky corners of an imaginary mustache +with an air, an exasperating little finger, separated from the others, +pointing upward in hateful self-satisfaction. Her mouth wore a +gratified masculine smirk, visible even in the starlight; her gait was +a leisured and lordly strut; her hand waved airy pity. Jeff shrank back +in horror. + +"M-Miss Hoffman, I n-never d-dreamed----" + +Miss Hoffman turned upon him swiftly. + +"Never have I heard anything like it--never! You bring me out here +willy-nilly, and by way of entertainment you virtually accuse me of +throwing myself at your head." + +"I never!" said Jeff indignantly. "I didn't----" + +Miss Hoffman faced him crouchingly and shook an indictment from her +fingers. + +"First, you imply that I enticed you to come; second, expecting you, I +dressed to catch your eye; third, I was watching eagerly for you----" + +"Come--I say now!" The baited and exasperated victim walked headlong +into the trap. "The first thing you did was to ask me if I was lame? +Wasn't that question meant to find out who I was? When I answered, +'Not--very,' didn't you know at once that it was me?" + +"There! That proves exactly what I was just saying," raged the +delighted trapper. "You don't even deny it! You say in so many words +that I have been courting you! I had to say something--didn't I? You +wouldn't! You were limping, so I asked you if you were lame. What +else could I have said? Did you want me to stand there like a stuffed +Egyptian mummy? That's the thanks a girl gets for trying to help a +great, awkward, blundering butter-fingers! Oh, if you could just see +yourself! The irresistible conqueror! Not altogether unprincipled +though! You _are_ capable of compunction. I'll give you credit for +that. Alarmed at your easy success, you try to spare me. It is noble of +you--noble! You drag me out here, force a quarrel upon me----" + +"Oh, by Jove now! Really!" Stung by the poignant injustice of crowding +events, Jeff took the bit in his teeth and rushed to destruction. +"Really, you must see yourself that I couldn't drag you out here! +I have never been in that hall before. I didn't know the lay of +the ground. I didn't even know that little side room was there. I +thought you pressed my arm a little----" So the brainless colt, in the +quicksands, flounders deeper with each effort to extricate himself. + +If Miss Hoffman had been angry before she was furious now. + +"So _that's_ the way of it? Better and better! _I_ dragged _you_ out! +Really, Mr. Bransford, I feel that I should take you back to your +chaperon at once. You might be compromised, you know!" + +Goaded to desperation, he acted on this hint at once. He turned, with +stiff and stilted speech: + +"I will take you back to the window, Miss Hoffman. Then there is +nothing for me to do but go. I am sorry to have caused you even a +moment's annoyance. To-morrow you will see how you have twisted--I +mean, how completely you have misinterpreted everything I have +said. Perhaps some day you may forgive me. Here is the window. +Good-night--good-by!" + +Miss Hoffman lingered, however. + +"Of course, if you apologize----" + +"I do, Miss Hoffman. I beg your pardon most sincerely for anything I +have ever said or done that could hurt you in any way." + +"If you are sure you are sorry--if you take it all back and will never +do such a thing again--perhaps I may forgive you." + +"I won't--I am--I will!" said the abject and groveling wretch. Which +was incoherent but pleasing. "I didn't mean anything the way you took +it; but I'm sorry for everything." + +"Then I didn't beguile you to come? Or mask as a Friend in the hope +that you would identify me?" + +"No, no!" + +Miss Ellinor pressed her advantage cruelly. "Nor take stock of each new +masker to see if he possibly wasn't the expected Mr. Bransford? Nor +drag you into the garden? Nor squeeze your arm?" Her hands went to her +face, her lissome body shook. "Oh, Mr. Bransford!" she sobbed between +her fingers. "How could you--how _could_ you say that?" + +The clock chimed. A pealing voice beat out into the night: "Masks off!" +A hundred voices swelled the cry; it was drowned in waves of laughter. +It rose again tumultuously: "_Masks off! Masks off!_" Nearer came +hateful voices, too, that cried: "_Ellinor! Ellinor! Where are you?_" + +"I must go!" said Jeff. "They'll be looking for you. No; you didn't do +any of those things. You couldn't do any of those things. Good-by!" + +"_Ellinor! Ellinor Hoffman!! Where are you?_" + +Miss Hoffman whipped off her mask. From the open window a shaft of +light fell on her face. It was flushed, sparkling, radiant. "Masks +off!" she said. "Stupid!... Oh, you great goose! Of course I did!" She +stepped back into the shadow. + +No one, as the copybook says justly, may be always wise. Conversely, +the most unwise of us blunders sometimes upon the right thing to +do. With a glimmer of returning intelligence Mr. Bransford laid his +noseguard on the window-sill. + +"_Sir!_" said Ellinor then. "How dare you?" Then she turned the other +cheek. "Good-by!" she whispered, and fled away to the ballroom. + +Mr. Bransford, in the shadows, scratched his head dubiously. + +"Her Christian name was Ellinor," he muttered. "Ellinor! H'm--Ellinor! +Very appropriate name.... Very!... And I don't know yet where she +lives!" + +He wandered disconsolately away to the garden wall, forgetting the +discarded noseguard. + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + THE ISLE OF ARCADY + + "Then the moon shone out so broad and good + That the barn-fowl crowed: + And the brown owl called to his mate in the wood + _That a dead man lay in the road!_" + + --WILL WALLACE HARNEY. + + +Arcadia's assets were the railroad, two large modern sawmills, the +climate and printer's ink. The railroad found it a patch of bare +ground, six miles from water; put in successively a whistling-post, a +signboard, a depot, townsite papers and a water-main from the Alamo; +and, when the townsite papers were confirmed, established machine shops +and made the new town the division headquarters and base for northward +building. + +The railroad then set up the sawmills, primarily to get out ties +and timbers for its own lanky growth, and built a spur to bring +the forest down from Rainbow to the mills. The word "down" is used +advisedly. Arcadia nestled on the plain under the very eavespouts of +Rainbow Range. The branch, following with slavish fidelity the lines +of a twisted corkscrew, took twenty-seven miles, mostly tunnel and +trestlework, to clamber to the logging camps, with a minimum grade that +was purely prohibitive and a maximum that I dare not state; but there +was a rise of six thousand feet in those twenty-seven miles. You can +figure the average for yourself. And if the engine should run off the +track at the end of her climb she would light on the very roundhouse +where she took breakfast, and spoil the shingles. + +Yes, that was some railroad. There was a summer hotel--Cloudland--on +the summit, largely occupied by slackwire performers. Others walked up +or rode a horse. They used stem-winding engines, with eight vertical +cylinders on the right side and a shaft like a steamboat, with beveled +cogwheel transmission on the axles. And they haven't had a wreck on +that branch to date. No matter how late a train is, when an engine sees +the tail-lights of her caboose ahead of her she stops and sends out +flagmen. + +The railroad, under the pseudonym of the Arcadia Development Company, +also laid out streets and laid in a network of pipe-lines, and staked +out lots until the sawmill protested for lack of tie-lumber. It put +down miles of cement walks, fringed them with cottonwood saplings, +telephone poles and electric lights. It built a hotel and a few streets +of party-colored cottages--directoire, with lingerie tile roofs, +organdy façades and peplum, intersecting panels and outside chimneys +at the gable ends. It decreed a park, with nooks, lanes, mazes, lake, +swans, ballground, grandstand, bandstand and the band appertaining +there-unto--all of which apparently came into being over night. Then it +employed a competent staff of word-artists and capitalized the climate. + +The result was astonishing. The cottonwoods grew apace and a swift town +grew with them--swift in every sense of the word. It took good money +to buy good lots in Arcadia. People with money must be fed, served +and amused by people wanting money. In three years the trees cast a +pleasant shade and the company cast a balance, with gratifying results. +They discounted the unearned increment for a generation to come. + +It was a beneficent scheme, selling ozone and novelty, sunshine and +delight. The buyers got far more than the worth of their money, the +company got their money--and every one was happy. Health and good +spirits are a bargain at any price. There were sandstorms and hot days; +but sand promotes digestion and digestion promotes cheerfulness. Heat +merely enhanced the luxury of shaded hammocks. As an adventurer thawed +out, he sent for seven others worse than himself. Arcadia became the +metropolis of the county and, by special election, the county-seat. +Courthouse, college and jail followed in quick succession. + +For the company, Arcadia life was one grand, sweet song, with, thus +far, but a single discord. As has been said, Arcadia was laid out on +the plain. There was higher ground on three sides--Rainbow Mountain to +the east, the deltas of La Luz Creek and the Alamo to the north and +south. New Mexico was dry, as a rule. After the second exception, when +enthusiastic citizens went about on stilts to forward a project for +changing the town's name to Venice, the company acknowledged its error +handsomely. When dry land prevailed once more above the face of the +waters, it built a mighty moat by way of the _amende honorable_--a moat +with its one embankment on the inner side of the five-mile horseshoe +about the town. This, with its attendant bridges, gave to Arcadia an +aspect singularly medieval. It also furnished a convenient line of +social demarcation. Chauffeurs, college professors, lawyers, gamblers, +county officers, together with a few tradesmen and railroad officials, +abode within "the Isle of Arcady," on more or less even terms with the +Arcadians proper; millmen, railroaders, lumberjacks, and the underworld +generally, dwelt without the pale. + +The company rubbed its lamp again--and behold! an armory, a hospital +and a library! It contributed liberally to churches and campaign +funds; it exercised a general supervision over morals and manners. For +example, in the deed to every lot sold was an ironclad, fire-tested, +automatic and highly constitutional forfeiture clause, to the effect +that sale or storage on the premises of any malt, vinous or spirituous +liquors should immediately cause the title to revert to the company. +The company's own vicarious saloon, on Lot Number One, was a sumptuous +and magnificent affair. It was known as The Mint. + +All this while we have been trying to reach the night watchman. + +In the early youth of Arcadia there came to her borders a warlock Finn, +of ruddy countenance and solid build. He had a Finnish name, and they +called him Lars Porsena. + +Lars P. had been a seafaring man. While spending a year's wage in San +Francisco, he had wandered into Arcadia by accident. There, being +unable to find the sea, he became a lumberjack--with a custom, when in +spirits, of beating the watchman of that date into an omelet. + +The indulgence of this penchant gave occasion for much adverse +criticism. Fine and imprisonment failed to deter him from this playful +habit. One watchman tried to dissuade Lars from his foible with a +club, and his successor even went so far as to shoot him--to shoot +Lars P., of course, not his predecessor--the successor's predecessor, +not Lars Porsena's--if he ever had one, which he hadn't. (What we need +is more pronouns.) He--the successor of the predecessor--resigned +when Lars became convalescent; but Lars was no whit dismayed by this +contretemps--in his first light-hearted moment he resumed his old +amusement with unabated gayety. + +Thus was one of our greatest railroad systems subjected to +embarrassment and annoyance by the idiosyncrasies of an ignorant but +cheerful sailorman. The railroad resolved to submit no longer to such +caprice. A middleweight of renown was imported, who--when he was able +to be about again--bitterly reproached the president and demanded a +bonus on the ground that he had knocked Lars down several times before +he--Lars--got angry; and also because of a disquisition in the Finnish +tongue which Lars Porsena had emitted during the procedure--which +address, the prizefighter stated, had unnerved him and so led to +his undoing. It was obviously, he said, of a nature inconceivably +insulting; the memory of it rankled yet, though he had heard only the +beginning and did not get the--But let that pass. + +The thing became a scandal. Watchman succeeded watchman on the company +payroll and the hospital list, until some one hit upon a happy and +ingenious way to avoid this indignity. Lars Porsena was appointed +watchman. + +This statesmanlike policy bore gratifying results. Lars Porsena +straightway abandoned his absurd and indefensible custom, and no +imitator arose. Also, Arcadia within the moat--the island--which was +the limit of his jurisdiction, became the most orderly spot in New +Mexico. + + * * * * * + +In the first gray of dawn, Uncle Sam, whistling down Main Street on his +way home from the masquerade, found Lars Porsena lying on his face in a +pool of blood. + +The belated reveler knelt beside him. The watchman was shot, but still +breathed. "Ho! Murder! Help! Murder!" shouted Uncle Sam. The alarm +rolled crashing along the quiet street. Heads were thrust from windows; +startled voices took up the outcry; other home-goers ran from every +corner; hastily arrayed householders poured themselves from street +doors. + +Lars Porsena was in disastrous plight. He breathed, but that was about +all. He was shot through the body. A trail of blood led back a few +doors to Lake's Bank. A window was cut out; the blood began at the sill. + +Messengers ran to telephone the doctor, the sheriff, Lake. The +knot of men grew to a crowd. A rumor spread that there had been an +unusual amount of currency in the bank over night--a rumor presently +confirmed by Bassett, the bare-headed and white-faced cashier. It was +near payday; in addition to the customary amount to cash checks for +railroaders and millhands--itself no mean sum--and the money for +regular business, there had been provision for contemplated loans to +promoters of new local industries. + +The doctor came running, made a hasty examination, took emergency +measures to stanch the freshly started blood, and swore whole-heartedly +at the ambulance and the crowding Arcadians. He administered a +stimulant. Lars Porsena fluttered his eyes weakly. + +"Stand back, you idiots! Bash these fools' faces in for 'em, some one!" +said the medical man. He bent over the watchman. "Who did it, Lars?" + +Lars made a vain effort to speak. The doctor gave him another sip of +restorative and took a pull himself. + +"Try again, old man. You're badly hurt and you may not get another +chance. Did you know him?" + +Lars gathered all his strength to a broken speech: + +"No.... Bank.... Found window.... Midnight ... Nearly .... Shot me.... +Didn't see him." He fell back on Uncle Sam's starry vest. + +"Ambulance coming," said Uncle Sam. "Will he live, doc?" + +Doc shook his head doubtfully. + +"Poor chance. Lost too much blood. If he had been found in time he +might have pulled through. Wonderful vitality. Ought to be dead now, +by the books. Still, there's a chance." + +"I never thought," said Uncle Sam to Cyrano de Bergerac, as the +ambulance bore away its unconscious burden, "that I would ever be so +sorry at anything that could happen to Lars Porsena--after the way he +made me stop singing on my own birthday. He was one grand old fighting +machine!" + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + STATES-GENERAL + + "And they hae killed Sir Charlie Hay + And laid the wyte on Geordie." + + --_Old Ballad._ + + +That the master's eye is worth two servants had ever been Lake's +favorite maxim. He had not yet gone to bed when the message reached +him, where he kept his masterly eye on the proper closing up of the +ballroom. He came through the crowd now, shouldering his way roughly, +still in his police costume--helmet, tunic and belt. In his wake came +the sheriff, who had just arrived, scorching to the scene on his trusty +wheel. + +On the bank steps, Lake turned to face the crowd. His strong canine jaw +was set to stubborn fighting lines; the helmet did not wholly hide the +black frown or the swollen veins at his temple. + +"Come in, Thompson, and help the sheriff size the thing up--and +you, Alec"--he stabbed the air at his choice with a strong blunt +finger--"and Turnbull--you, Clarke--and you.... Bassett, you keep the +door. Admit no one!" + +Lake was the local great man. Never had he appeared to such advantage +to his admirers; never had his ascendency seemed so unquestioned and so +justified. As he stood beside the sheriff in the growing light, the man +was the incarnation of power--the power of wealth, position, prestige, +success. In this moment of yet unplumbed disaster, taken by surprise, +summoned from a night of crowded pleasure, he held his mastery, chose +his men and measures with unhesitant decision--planned, ordered, kept +to that blunt direct speech of his that wasted no word. A buzz went up +from the unadmitted as the door swung shut behind him. + +Lake had chosen well. Arcadia in epitome was within those pillaged +walls. Thompson was president of the rival bank. Alec was division +superintendent. Turnbull was the mill-master. Clarke was editor of the +_Arcadian Day_. Clarke had been early to the storm-center; yet, of all +the investigators, Clarke alone was not more or less disheveled. He was +faultlessly appareled--even to the long Prince Albert and black string +tie--in which, indeed, report said, he slept. + +So much for capital, industry and the fourth estate. The last of the +probers, whom Lake had drafted merely by the slighting personal pronoun +"you," was nevertheless identifiable in private life by the name of +Billy White--being, indeed, none other than our old friend the devil. +His indigenous mustache still retained a Mephistophelian twist; he was +becomingly arrayed in slippers, pajamas and a pink bathrobe, girdled at +the waist with a most unhermitlike cord, having gone early and surly +to bed. In this improvised committee he fitly represented Society: +while the sheriff represented society at large and, ex officio, that +incautious portion under duress. Yet one element was unrepresented; +for Lake made a mistake which other great men have made--of failing to +reckon with the masterless men, who dwell without the wall. + +Lake led the way. + +"Will the watchman die, Alec, d'you think?" whispered Billy, as they +filed through the grilled door to the counting room. + +"Don't know. Hope not. Game old rooster. Good watchman, too," said +Turnbull, the mill-superintendent. + +Lake turned on the lights. The wall-safe was blown open; fragments of +the door were scattered among the overturned chairs. + +In an open recess in the vault there was a dull yellow mass; the +explosion had spilled the front rows of coin to a golden heap. Behind, +some golden rouleaus were intact: others tottered precariously, as you +have perhaps seen beautiful tall stacks of colored counters do. Gold +pieces were strewn along the floor. + +"Thank God, they didn't get all the gold anyhow!" said Lake, with a +sigh of relief. "Then, of course, they didn't touch the silver; but +there was a lot of greenbacks--over twenty-five thousand, I think. +Bassett will know. And I don't know how much gold is gone. Look round +and see if they left anything incriminating, sheriff, anything that we +can trace them by." + +"He heard poor old Lars coming," said the sheriff. "Then, after he shot +him, he hadn't the nerve to come back for the gold. This strikes me as +being a bungler's job. Must have used an awful lot of dynamite to tear +that door up like that! Funny no one heard the explosion. Can't be much +of your gold gone, Lake. That compartment is pretty nearly as full as +it will hold." + +"Or heard him shoot our watchman," suggested Thompson. "Still, I don't +know. There's blasting going on in the hills all the time and almost +every one was at the masquerade or else asleep. How many times did they +shoot old Lars--does anybody know? Is there any idea what time it was +done?" + +"He was shot once--right here," said Alec, indicating the spot on the +flowered silk that had been part of his mandarin's dress. "Gun was held +so close it burnt his shirt. Awful hole. Don't believe the old chap'll +make it. He crawled along toward the telephone station till he dropped. +Say! Central must have heard that shot! It's only two blocks away. She +ought to be able to tell what time it was." + +"Lars said it was just before midnight," said Clarke. + +"Oh!--did he speak?" asked Lake. "How many robbers were there? Did he +know any of them?" + +"He didn't see anybody--shot just as he reached the window. Hope some +one hangs for this!" said Clarke. "Lake, I wish you'd have this money +picked up--I'm not used to walking on gold--or else have me watched." + +Lake shook his head, angry at the untimely pleasantry. It was a +pleasantry in effect only, put forward to hide uneditorial agitation +and distress for Lars Porsena. Lake's undershot jaw thrust forward; he +fingered the blot of whisker at his ear. It was a time for action, not +for talk. He began his campaign. + +"Look here, sheriff! You ought to wire up and down the line to keep a +lookout. Hold all suspicious characters. Then get a posse to ride for +some sign round the town. If we only had something to go on--some clue! +Later we'll look through this town with a finetooth comb. Most likely +they--or he, if there was only one--won't risk staying here. First of +all, I've got to telegraph to El Paso for money to stave off a run on +the bank. You'll help me, Thompson? Of course my burglar insurance will +make good my loss--or most of it; but that'll take time. We mustn't +risk a run. People lose their heads so I'll give you a statement for +the _Day_, Clarke, as soon as I find out where Mr. Thompson stands." + +"I will back you up, sir. With the bulk of depositors' money loaned +out, no bank, however solvent, can withstand a continued run without +backing. I shall be glad to tide you over if only for my own +protection. A panic is contagious----" + +"Thanks," said Lake shortly, interrupting this stately financial +discourse. "Then we shall do nicely.... Let's see--to-morrow's payday. +You fellows"--he turned briskly to the two superintendents--"can't +you hold up your payday, say, until Saturday? Stand your men off. The +company stands good for their money. They can wait a while." + +"No need to do that," said Alec. "I'll have the railroad checks drawn +on St. Louis. The storekeepers'll cash 'em. If necessary I'll wire for +authority to let Turnbull pay off the millhands with railroad checks. +It's just taking money from one pocket to put it in the other, anyhow." + +"Then that's all right! Now for the robbers!" The banker's face +betrayed impatience. "My first duty was to protect my clients; but now +we'll waste no more time. You gentlemen make a close search for any +possible scrap of evidence while the sheriff and I write our telegrams. +I must wire the burglar insurance company, too." He plunged a pen into +an inkwell and fell to work. + +Acting upon this hint, the sheriff took a desk. "Wish Phillips was +here--my deputy," he sighed. "I've sent for him. He's got a better head +than I have for noticing clues and things." This was eminently correct +as well as modest. The sheriff was a Simon-pure Arcadian, the company's +nominee; his deputy was a concession to the disgruntled Hinterland, +where the unobservant rarely reach maturity. + +"Oh, Alec!" said Lake over his shoulder, "you sit down, too, and wire +all your conductors about their passengers last night. Yes, and the +freight crews, too. We'll rush those through first. And can't you scare +up another operator?" His pen scratched steadily over the paper. "More +apt to be some of our local outlaws, though. In that case it will be +easier to find their trail. They'll probably be on horseback." + +"You were an--old-timer yourself, were you not?" asked Billy amiably. +"If the robbers are frontiersmen they may be easier to get track of, as +you suggest; but won't they be harder to get?" Billy spoke languidly. +The others were searching assiduously for "clues" in the most approved +manner, but Billy sprawled easily in a chair. + +"We'll get 'em if we can find out who they were," snapped Lake, setting +his strong jaw. He did not particularly like Billy--especially since +their late trip to Rainbow. "There never was a man yet so good but +there was one just a little better." + +"By a good man, in this connection, you mean a bad man, I presume?" +said Billy in a meditative drawl. "Were you a good man before you +became a banker?" + +"Look here! What's this?" The interruption came from Clarke. He pounced +down between two fragments of the safe door and brought up an object +which he held to the light. + +At the startled tones, Lake spun round in his swivel-chair. He held out +his hand. + +"Really, I don't think I ever saw anything like this thing before," he +said. "Any of you know what it is?" + +"It's a noseguard," said Billy. Billy was a college man and had worn a +nosepiece himself. He frowned unconsciously, remembering his successful +rival of the masquerade. + +"A noseguard? What for?" + +"You wear it to protect your nose and teeth when playing football," +explained Billy. "Keeps you from swearing, too. You hold this piece +between your teeth; the other part goes over your nose, up between your +eyes and fastens with this band around your forehead." + +"Why! Why!" gasped Clarke, "there was a man at the masquerade togged +out as a football player!" + +"I saw him," said Alec. "And he wore one of these things. I saw him +talking to Topsy." + +"One of my guests?" demanded Lake scoffingly. "Oh, nonsense! Some young +fellow has been in here yesterday, talking to the clerks, and dropped +it. Who went as a football player, White? You know all these college +boys. Know anything about this one?" + +"Not a thing." There Billy lied--a prompt and loyal +gentleman--reasoning that Buttinski, as he mentally styled the +interloper who had mis-appropriated the Quaker lady, would have cared +nothing at that time for a paltry thirty thousand. Thus was he guilty +of a practice against which we are all vainly warned--of judging others +by ourselves. Billy remembered very distinctly that Miss Ellinor had +not reappeared until the midnight unmasking, and he therefore acquitted +her companion of this particular crime, entirely without prejudice to +Buttinski's felonious instincts in general. For the watchman had been +shot before midnight. Billy made a tentative mental decision that this +famous noseguard had been brought to the bank later and left there +purposely; and resolved to keep his eye open. + +"Oh, well, it's no great difference anyhow," said Lake. "Whoever it +was dropped it here yesterday, I guess, and got another one for the +masquerade." + +"Hold on there!" said Clarke, holding the spotlight tenaciously. "That +don't go! This thing was on top of one of those pieces of the safe!" + +For the first time Lake was startled from his iron composure. + +"Are you sure?" he demanded, jumping up. + +"Sure! It was right here against the sloping side of this piece--so." + +"That puts a different light on the case, gentlemen," said Lake. "Luck +is with us; and----" + +"And, while I think of it," said Clarke, making the most of his +unexpected opportunity, "I made notes of all the costumes and their +wearers after the masks were off--for the paper, you know--and I saw no +football player there. I remember that distinctly." + +"I only saw him the one time," confirmed Alec, "and I stayed almost to +the break-up. Whoever it was, he left early." + +"But what possible motive could the robber have for going to the dance +at all?" queried Lake in perplexity. + +"Maybe he made his appearance there in a football suit purposely, so +as to leave us some one to hunt for, and then committed the robbery +and went back in another costume," suggested Clarke, pleased and not +a little surprised at his own ingenuity. "In that case, he would have +left this rubber thing here of design." + +"H'm!" Lake was plainly struck with this theory. "And that's not +such a bad idea, either! We'll look into this football matter after +breakfast. You'll go to the hotel with me, gentlemen? Our womankind are +all asleep after the ball. The sheriff will send some one to guard the +bank. Meantime I'll call the cashier in and find out exactly how much +money we're short. Send Bassett in, will you, Billy? You stay at the +door and keep that mob out." + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + ARCADES AMBO + + "What means this, my lord?" + "Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief." + + --_Hamlet._ + + + "We are here to do what service we may, for honor and not for + hire."--ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. + + +With Billy went the sheriff and Alec, the latter with a sheaf of +telegrams. + +"Now ... how did Buttinski's noseguard get into this bank? That's +what I'd like to know," said Billy to the doorknob, when the other +committeemen had gone their ways. "I didn't bring it. I don't believe +Buttinski did.... And Policeman Lake certainly saw us quarreling. He +noticed the football player, right enough,--and he pretends he didn't. +Why--why--why does Policeman Lake pretend he didn't see that football +player? Echo answers--why?... Denmark's all putrefied!" + +The low sun cleared the housetops. The level rays fell along the +window-sill; and Billy, staring fascinated at the single blotch of +dried blood on the inner sill, saw something glitter and sparkle there +beside it. He went closer. It was a dust of finely powdered glass. +Billy whistled. + +A light foot ran up the steps. There was a rap at the door. + +"No entrance except on business. No business transacted here!" quoted +Billy, startled from a deep study. A head appeared at the window. "Oh, +it's you, Jimmy? That's different. Come in!" + +It was Jimmy Phillips, the chief deputy. Billy knew him and liked him. +He unbarred the door. + +"Well, anything turned up yet?" demanded Jimmy. "I stopped in to see +Lars. Him and me was old side partners." + +"How's he making it, Jimmy?" + +"Oh, doc said he had one chance in ten thousand; so he's all right, I +guess," responded that brisk optimist. "They got any theory about the +robber?" + +"They have that. A perfectly sound theory, too--only it isn't true," +said Billy in a low and guarded tone. "They'll tell you. I haven't got +time. See here--if I give you the straight tip will you work it up and +keep your head closed until you see which way the cat jumps? Can you +keep it to yourself?" + +"Mum as a sack of clams!" said Jimmy. + +"Look at this a minute!" Billy pointed to the tiny particles of glass +on the inner sill. "Got that? Then I'll dust it off. This is a case +for your gummiest shoes. Now look at this!" He indicated the opening +where the patch of glass had been cut from the big pane. Jimmy rubbed +his finger very cautiously along the raw edge of the glass. + +"Cut out from the inside--then carried out there? A frame-up?" + +"Exactly. But I don't want anybody else to size it up for a +frame-up--not now." + +"But," said Jimmy good-naturedly, "I'd 'a' seen all that myself after a +little if you hadn't 'a' showed me." + +"Yes," said Billy dryly; "and then told somebody! That's why I brushed +the glass-dust off. I've got inside information--some that I'm going to +share with you and some that I am not going to tell even you!" + +"Trot it out!" + +"Lake had the key of this front door in the policeman's uniform that +he wore to the dance. Isn't that queer? If I were you I'd very quietly +find out whether he went home to get that key after he got word that +the bank was robbed. He was still in the ballroom when he got the +message." + +"You think it's a put-up job? Why?" + +"There is something not just right about the man Lake. His mind is too +ballbearing altogether. He herds those chumps in there round like so +many sheep. He used 'em to make discoveries with and then showed 'em +how to force 'em on him. Oh, they made a heap of progress! They've got +evidence enough up in there to hang John the Baptist, with Lake all +the time setting back in the breeching like a balky horse. It's Lake's +bank, and the bank's got burglar insurance. Got that? If he gets the +money and the insurance, too--see? And I happen to know he has been +bucking the market. I dropped a roll with him myself. Then there's +r-r-revenge!--as they say on the stage--and something else beside. Has +Lake any bitter enemies?" + +"Oodles of 'em!" + +"But one worse than the others--one he hates most?" + +Jimmy thought for a while. Then he nodded. + +"Jeff Bransford, I reckon." + +"Is he in town?" + +"Not that I know of." + +"Well, I never heard of your Mr. Bransford; but he's in town all right, +all right! You'll see! Lake's got a case cooked up that'll hang some +one higher than Haman; and I'll bet the first six years of my life +against a Doctor Cook lecture ticket that the first letter of some +one's name is Jeff Bransford." + +"Maybe Jeff can prove he was somewhere else?" suggested Jimmy. + +Billy evaded the issue. + +"What sort of a man is this Bransford? Any good? Besides being an enemy +of Lake's, I mean?" + +"Mr. Bransford is one whom we all delight to humor," announced the +deputy, after some reflection. + +"Friend of yours?" + +Jimmy reflected again. + +"We-ll--yes!" he said. "He limps a little in cold weather, and I got a +little small ditch plowed in my skull--but our horses was both young +and wild, and the boys rode in between us before there was any harm +done. I pulled him out of the Pecos since that, too, and poured some +several barrels of water out o' him. Yes, we're good friends, I reckon." + +"He'll shoot back on proper occasion, then? A good sport? Stand the +gaff?" + +"On proper occasion," rejoined Jimmy, "the other man will shoot +back--if he's lucky. Yes, sir, Jeff's certainly one dead game sport at +any turn in the road." + +"Considering the source and spirit of your information, you sadden me," +said Billy. "The better man he is, the better chance to hang. Has he +got any close friends here?" + +"He seldom ever comes here," said Jimmy. "All his friends is on +Rainbow, specially South Rainbow; but his particular side partners is +all away just now; leastways, all but one." + +"Can't you write to that one?" + +The deputy grinned hugely. + +"And tell him to come break Jeff out o' jail?" said he. "That don't +seem hardly right, considerin'. You write to him--Johnny Dines, +Morningside. You might wire up to Cloudland and have it forwarded from +there. I'll pay." + +Billy made a note of it. + +"They'll be out here in a jiffy now," he said. "Now, Jimmy, you listen +to all they tell you; follow it up; make no comments; don't see +anything and don't miss anything. Let Lake think he's having it all his +own way and he'll make some kind of a break that will give him away. We +haven't got a thing against him yet except the right guess. And you be +careful to catch your friend without a fight. When you get him I want +you to give him a message from me; but don't mention any name. Tell him +to keep a stiff upper lip--that the devil takes care of his own. Say +the devil told you himself--in person. I don't want to show my hand. +I'm on the other side--see? That way I can be in Lake's counsels--force +myself in, if necessary, after this morning." + +"You think that if you give Lake rope enough----" + +"Exactly. Here they come--I hear their chairs." + +"Blonde or brunette?" said Jimmy casually. + +"Eh? What's that?" + +"The something else that you wouldn't tell me about," Jimmy explained. +"Is she blonde or brunette?" + +"Oh, go to hell!" said Billy. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + TAKEN + + "Lord Huntley then he did speak out-- + O, fair mot fa' his body!-- + 'I here will fight doublet alane + Or ony thing ails Geordie! + + 'Whom has he robbed? What has he stole? + Or has he killed ony? + Or what's the crime that he has done + His foes they are so mony?'" + + --_Old Ballad._ + + +Hue and cry, hubbub and mystery, swept the Isle of Arcady that morning, +but the most painstaking search and query proved fruitless. It +developed beyond doubt that the football man had not been seen since +his one brief appearance on the ballroom floor. Search was transferred +to the mainland, where, as it neared noon, Lake's perseverance and +thoroughness were rewarded. In Chihuahua suburb, beyond the north +wall, Lake noted a sweat-marked, red-roan horse in the yard of Rosalio +Marquez, better known, by reason of his profession, as Monte. + +Straightway the banker reported this possible clue to the sheriff and +to Billy, who was as tireless and determined in the chase as Lake +himself. The other masqueraders had mostly abandoned the chase. He +found them on the bridge of the La Luz sallyport. + +"It may be worth looking into," Lake advised the sheriff. "Better send +some one to reconnoiter--some one not known to be connected with your +office. You go, Billy. If you find anything suspicious the sheriff can +'phone to the hospital if he needs me. I'm going over to see how the +old watchman is--ought to have gone before. If he gets well I must do +something handsome for him." + +Billy fell in with this request. He had a well-founded confidence in +Lake's luck and attached much more significance to the trifling matter +of the red-roan horse than did the original discoverer--especially +since the discoverer had bethought himself to go to the hospital on an +errand of mercy. Billy now confidently expected early developments. +And he preferred personally to conduct the arrest, so that he might +interfere, if necessary, to prevent any wasting of good cartridges. +He did not expect much trouble, however, providing the affair was +conducted tactfully; reasoning that a dead game sport with a clean +conscience and a light heart would not seriously object to a small +arrest. Poor Billy's own heart was none of the lightest as he went on +this loyal service to his presumably favored rival. + +Bicycle-back, he accompanied the sheriff beyond the outworks to the +Mexican quarter. Near the place indicated by the banker Billy left his +wheel and strolled casually round the block. He saw the red-roan steed +and noted the Double Rainbow branded on his thigh. + +Monte was leaning in the adobe doorway, rolling a cigarette. Billy knew +him, in a business way. + +"Hello, Monte! Good horse you've got there." + +"Yais--tha's nice hor-rse," said Monte. + +"Want to sell him?" + +"Thees ees not my hor-rse," explained Monte. "He ees of a frien'." + +"I like his looks," said Billy. "Is your friend here? Or, if he's +downtown, what's his name? I'd like to buy that horse." + +"He ees weetheen, but he ees not apparent. He ees +_dormiendo_--ah--yais--esleepin'. He was las' night to the _baile +mascarada_." + +Billy nodded. "Yes; I was there myself." He decided to take a risk: +assuming that his calculations were correct, x must equal Bransford. So +he said carelessly: "Let's see, Bransford went as a sailor, didn't he? +_Un marinero?_" + +"Oh, no; he was atir-re' lak one--_que cosa?_--what you call thees +theeng?--_un balon para jugar con los pies?_ Ah! si, si!--one feetball! +Myself I come soon back. I have no beesness. The bes' people ees +all for the dance," said Monte, with hand turned up and shrugging +shoulder. "So, _media noche_--twelve of the clock, I am here back. I +fin' here the hor-rse of my frien', and one _carta_--letter--that I am +not to lock the door; _porque_ he may come to esleep. So I am mek to +r-repose myself. Later I am ar-rouse when my frien' am to r-retir-re +heemself. Ah, _que hombre_! I am yet to esmile to see heem in thees +so r-redeeculous _vestidos_! He ees ver' gay. Ah! _que_ Jeff! Een +all ways thees ees a man ver' _sufficiente_, cour-rageous, es-trong, +formidabble! Yet he ees keep the _disposicion_, the hear-rt, of a +seemple leetle chil'--_un muchacho_!" + +"I'll come again," said Billy, and passed on. He had found out what he +had come for. The absence of concealment dispelled any lingering doubt +of Jeff Buttinski. Yet he could establish no alibi by Monte. + +Perhaps Billy White may require here a little explanation. All things +considered, Billy thought Jeff would be better off in jail, with a +friend in the opposite camp working for his interest, than getting +himself foolishly killed by a hasty posse. If we are cynical, we may +say that, being young, Billy was not averse to the rôle of _deus ex +machina_; perhaps a thought of friendly gratitude was not lacking. +Then, too, adventure for adventure's sake is motive enough--in youth. +Or, as a final self-revelation, we may hint that if Jeff was a rival, +so too was Lake--and one more eligible. Let us not be cynical, +however, or cowardly. Let us say at once shamelessly what we very well +know--that youth is the season for clean honor and high emprise; that +boy's love is best and truest of all; that poor, honest Billy, in his +own dogged and fantastic way, but sought to give true service where +he--loved. There, we have said it; and we are shamed. How old are you, +sir? Forty? Fifty? Most actions are the result of mixed motives, you +say? Well, that is a notable concession--at your age. Let it go at +that. Billy, then, acted from mixed motives. + +When Billy brought back his motives--and the sheriff--Monte still held +his negligent attitude in the doorway. He waved a graceful salute. + +"I want to see Bransford," said the sheriff. + +"He ees esleepin'," said Monte. + +"Well, I want to see him anyway!" The sheriff laid a brusk hand on the +gatelatch. + +Monte waved his cigarette airily, flicked the ash from the end with a +slender finger, and once more demonstrated that the hand is quicker +than the eye. The portentously steady gun in the hand was the first +intimation to the eye that the hand had moved at all. It was a very +large gun as to caliber, the sheriff noted. As it was pointed directly +at his nose he was favorably situated to observe--looking along the +barrel--that the hammer stood at full cock. + +"Per-rhaps you have some papers for heem?" suggested Monte, with gentle +and delicate deference. He still leaned against the doorjamb. "But +eef not eet ees bes' that you do not enter thees my leetle house to +distur-rb my gues'. That would be to commeet a r-rudeness--no?" + +The sheriff was a sufficiently brave man, if not precisely a brilliant +one. Yet he showed now intelligence of the highest order. He dropped +the latch. + +"You Billy, stop your laughing! Do you know, Mr. Monte, I think you are +quite right?" he observed, with a smiling politeness equal to Monte's +own. "That would be rude, certainly. My mistake. An Englishman's house +is his castle--that sort of thing? If you will excuse me now we will go +and get the papers, as you so kindly pointed out." + +They went away, the sheriff, Billy and motives--Billy still laughing +immoderately. + +Monte went inside and stirred up his guest with a prodding boot-toe. + +"Meester Jeff," he demanded, "what you been a-doin' now?" + +Jeff sat up, rumpled his hair, and rubbed his eyes. + +"Sleepin'," he said. + +"An' before? _Porque_, the sheriff he has been. To mek an arres' of +you, I t'eenk." + +"Me?" said Jeff, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I haven't done +anything that I can remember now!" + +"Sure? No small leetle cr-rime? Not las' night? Me, I jus' got up. I +have not hear'." + +Jeff considered this suggestion carefully. "No. I am sure. Not for +years. Some mistake, I guess. Or maybe he just wanted to see me about +something else. Why didn't he come in?" + +"I mek r-reques' of heem that he do not," said Monte. + +"I see," Jeff laughed. "Come on; we'll go see him. You don't want to +get into trouble." + +They crossed the bridge and met the sheriff just within the +fortifications, returning in a crowded automobile. Jeff held up his +hand. The machine stopped and the posse deployed--except Billy, who +acted as chauffeur. + +"You wanted to see me, sheriff--at the hotel?" + +"Why, yes, if you don't mind," said the sheriff. + +"Good dinner? I ain't had breakfast yet!" + +"First-class," said the sheriff cordially. "Won't your friend come too?" + +"Ah, señor, you eshame me that I am not so hospitabble, ees eet not?" +purred Monte, as he followed Jeff into the tonneau. + +The sheriff reddened and Billy choked. + +"Nothing of the sort," said the sheriff hastily, lapsing into +literalness. "You were quite within your rights. For that matter, I +know you were at your own bank, dealing, when the crime was committed. +I am holding you for the present as a possible accessory; and, if not, +then as a material witness. By the way, Monte, would you mind if I sent +some men to look through your place? There is a matter of some thirty +thousand dollars missing. Lake asked us to look for it. I have papers +for it if you care to see them." + +"Oh, no, señor!" said Monte. He handed over a key. "_La casa es suyo!_" + +"Thank you," said the sheriff, with unmoved gravity. "Anything of yours +you want 'em to bring, Bransford?" + +"Why, no," said Jeff cheerfully. "I've got nothing there but my saddle, +my gun and an old football suit that belongs to 'Gene Baird, over on +the West Side; but if you want me to stay long, I wish you'd look after +my horse." + +"I too have lef' there my gun that I keep to protec' my leetle house," +observed Monte. "Tell some one to keep eet for me. I am much attach' to +that gun." + +"Why, yes, I have seen that gun, I think," said the sheriff. "They'll +look out for it. All right, Billy!" + +The car turned back. + +"Oh--you were speaking about Monte being an accessory. I didn't get in +till 'way late last night, and I've been asleep all day," said Jeff +apologetically. "Might I ask before or after exactly what fact Monte +was an accessory?" + +"Bank robbery, for one thing." + +"Ah!... That would be Lake's bank? Anything else?" + +The sheriff was not a patient man and he had borne much; also, he liked +Lars Porsena. Perfection, even in trifles, is rare and wins affection. +He turned on Jeff, with an angry growl. + +"Murder!" + +"Lake?" murmured Jeff hopefully. + +The sheriff continued, ignoring and, indeed, only half sensing the +purport of Jeff's comment: + +"At least, the wound may not be mortal." + +"That's too bad," said Jeff. He was, if possible, more cheerful than +ever. + +The sheriff glared at him. Billy, from the front seat, threw a word of +explanation over his shoulder. "It's not Lake. The watchman." + +"Oh, old Lars Porsena? That's different. Not a bad sort, Lars. Maybe +he'll get well. Hope so.... And I shot him? Dear me! When did it +happen?" + +"You'll find out soon enough!" said the sheriff grimly. "Your +preliminary's right away." + +"Hell, I haven't had breakfast yet!" Jeff protested. "Feed us first or +we won't be tried at all." + + * * * * * + +Within the jail, while the sheriff spoke with his warder, it occurred +to Billy that, since Jimmy Phillips was not to be seen, he might as +well carry his own friendly message. So he said guardedly: + +"Buck up, old man! Keep a stiff upper lip and be careful what you say. +This is only your preliminary trial, remember. Lots of things may +happen before court sets. The devil looks after his own, you know." + +Jeff had a good ear for voices, however, and Billy's mustache still +kept more than a hint of Mephistopheles. Jeff slowly surveyed Billy's +natty attire, with a lingering and insulting interest for such +evidences of prosperity as silken hosiery and a rather fervid scarfpin. +At last his eye met Billy's, and Billy was blushing. + +"Does he?" drawled Jeff languidly. "Ah!... You own the car, then?" + +Poor Billy! + +Notwithstanding the ingratitude of this rebuff, Billy sought out Jimmy +Phillips and recounted to him the circumstances of the arrest. + +"Oh, naughty, naughty!" said the deputy, caressing his nose. "Lake's +been a cowman on Rainbow. He knew the brand on that horse; he knew Jeff +was chummy with Monte. He knew in all reason that Jeff was in there, +and most likely he knew it all the time. So he sneaks off to see +Lars--after shooting him from ambush, damn him!--and sends you to take +Jeff. Looks like he might be willing for you and Jeff to damage either, +which or both of yourselves, as the case may be." + +"It looks so," said Billy. + +"Must be a fine girl!" murmured Jimmy absently. "Well, what are you +going to do? It looks pretty plain." + +"It looks plain to us--but we haven't got a single tangible thing +against Lake yet. We'd be laughed out of court if we brought an +accusation against him. We'll have to wait and keep our eyes open." + +"You're sure Lake did it? There was no rubber nosepiece at Monte's +house. All the rest of the football outfit--but not that. That looks +bad for Jeff." + +"On the contrary, that is the strongest link against Lake. I dare say +Buttinski--Mr. Bransford--is eminently capable of bank robbery at odd +moments; but I know approximately where that noseguard was at sharp +midnight--after the watchman was shot." Here Billy swore mentally, +having a very definite guess as to how Jeff might have lost the +noseguard. "Lake, Clarke, Turnbull, Thompson, Alec or myself--one of +the six of us--brought that noseguard to the bank after the robbery, +and only one of the six had a motive--and a key." + +"Only one of you had a key," corrected Jimmy cruelly. "But can't Jeff +prove where he was, maybe?" + +"He won't." + +"I'd sure like to see her," said Jimmy. + + + + + CHAPTER X + + THE ALIBI + + "And all love's clanging trumpets shocked and blew." + + + "The executioner's argument was, that you couldn't cut off a head + unless there was a body to cut it off from; that he had never had + to do such a thing before, and he wasn't going to begin at _his_ + time of life."--_Alice in Wonderland._ + + +The justice of the peace, when the county court was not in session, +held hearings in the courtroom proper, which occupied the entire second +story of the county courthouse. The room was crowded. It was a new +courthouse; there are people impatient to try even a new hearse; and +this bade fair to be Arcadia's first _cause célèbre_. + +Jeff sat in the prisoner's stall, a target for boring eyes. He was +conscious of an undesirable situation; exactly how tight a place it was +he had no means of knowing until he should have heard the evidence. +The room was plainly hostile; black looks were cast upon him. Deputy +Phillips, as he entered arm in arm with the sometime devil, gave +the prisoner an intent but non-committal look, which Jeff rightly +interpreted as assurance of a friend in ambush; he felt unaccountably +sure of the devil's fraternal aid; Monte, lolling within the rail +of the witness-box, smiled across at him. Still, he would have felt +better for another friendly face or two, he thought--say, John Wesley +Pringle's. + +Jeff looked from the open window. Cottonwoods, well watered, give +swiftest growth of any trees and are therefore the dominant feature +of new communities in dry lands. The courthouse yard was crowded with +them: Jeff, from the window, could see nothing but their green plumes; +and his thoughts ran naturally upon gardens--or, to be more accurate, +upon a garden. + +Would she lose faith in him? Had she heard yet? Would he be able +to clear himself? No mere acquittal would do. Because of Ellinor, +there must be no question, no verdict of Not Proven. She would go +East to-morrow. Perhaps she would not hear of his arrest at all. He +hoped not. The bank robbery, the murder--yes, she would hear of them, +perhaps; but why need she hear his name? Hers was a world so different! +He fell into a muse at this. + +Deputy Phillips passed and stood close to him, looking down from the +window. His back was to Jeff; but, under cover of the confused hum of +many voices, he spake low from the corner of his mouth: + +"Play your hand close to your bosom, old-timer! Wait for the draw and +watch the dealer!" He strolled over to the other side of the judicial +bench whence he came. + +This vulgar speech betrayed Jimmy as one given to evil courses; but +to Jeff that muttered warning was welcome as thunder of Blücher's +squadrons to British squares at Waterloo. + +Down the aisle came a procession consciously important--the prosecuting +attorney; the bank's lawyer, who was to assist, "for the people"; and +Lake himself. As they passed the gate Jeff smiled his sweetest. + +"Hello, Wally!" Lake's name was Stephen Walter. + +Wally made no verbal response; but his undershot jaw did the steel-trap +act and there was a triumphant glitter in his eye. He turned his broad +back pointedly--and Jeff smiled again. + +The justice took his seat on the raised dais intervening between +Jeff and the sheriff's desk. Court was opened. The usual tedious +preliminaries followed. Jeff waived a jury trial, refused a lawyer and +announced that he would call no witnesses at present. + +In an impressive stillness the prosecutor rose for his opening +statement. Condensed, it recounted the history of the crime, so far as +known; fixed the time by the watchman's statement--to be confirmed, +he said, by another witness, the telephone girl on duty at that hour, +who had heard the explosion and the ensuing gunshot; touched upon +that watchman's faithful service and his present desperate condition. +He told of the late finding of the injured man, the meeting in the +bank, the sum taken by the robber, and the discovery in the bank of +the rubber nosepiece, which he submitted as Exhibit A. He cited the +witnesses by whom he would prove each statement, and laid special +stress upon the fact that the witness Clarke would testify that the +nosepiece had been found upon the shattered fragments of the safe +door--conclusive proof that it had been dropped after the crime. And +he then held forth at some length upon the hand of Providence, as +manifested in the unconscious self-betrayal which had frustrated and +brought to naught the prisoner's fiendish designs. On the whole, he +spoke well of Providence. + +Now Jeff had not once thought of the discarded noseguard since he first +found it in his way; he began to see how tightly the net was drawn +round him. "There was a serpent in the garden," he reflected. A word +from Miss Hoffman would set him free. If she gave that word at once, +it would be unpleasant for her: but if she gave it later, as a last +resort, it would be more than unpleasant. And in that same hurried +moment, Jeff knew that he would not call upon her for that word. All +his crowded life, he had kept the happy knack of falling on his feet: +the stars, that fought in their courses against Sisera, had ever fought +for reckless Bransford. He decided, with lovable folly, to trust to +chance, to his wits and to his friends. + +"And now, Your Honor, we come to the unbreakable chain of evidence +which fatally links the prisoner at the bar to this crime. We will +prove that the prisoner was not invited to the masquerade ball given +last night by Mr. Lake. We will prove----" + +There was a stir in the courtroom; the prosecutor paused, disconcerted. +Eyes were turned to the double door at the back of the courtroom. In +the entryway at the head of the stairs huddled a group of shrinking +girls. Before them, one foot upon the threshold, stood Ellinor +Hoffman. She shook off a detaining hand and stepped into the room, +head erect, proud, pale. Across the sea of curious faces her eyes met +the prisoner's. Of all the courtroom, Billy and Deputy Phillips alone +turned then to watch Jeff's face. They saw an almost imperceptible +shake of his head, a finger on lip, a reassuring gesture--saw, too, the +quick pulsebeat at his throat. + +The color flooded back to Ellinor's face. Men nearest the door +were swift to bring chairs. The prosecutor resumed his interrupted +speech--his voice was deep, hard, vibrant. + +"Your Honor, the counts against this man are fairly damning! We will +prove that he was shaved in a barber shop in Arcadia at ten o'clock +last night; that he then rode a roan horse; that the horse was then +sweating profusely; that this horse was afterward found at the house +of--but we will take that up later. We will prove by many witnesses +that among the masqueraders was a man wearing a football suit, wearing +a nosepiece similar--entirely similar--to the one found in the bank, +which now lies before you. We will prove that this football player was +not seen in the ballroom after the hour of eleven P.M. We will prove +that when he was next seen, without the ballroom, it was not until +sufficient time had elapsed for him to have committed this awful crime." + +Ellinor half rose from her seat; again Jeff flashed a warning at her. + +"We will prove this, Your Honor, by a most unwilling witness--Rosalio +Marquez"--Monte smiled across at Jeff--"a friend of the prisoner, who, +in his behalf, has not scrupled to defy the majesty of the law! We can +prove by this witness, this reluctant witness, that when he returned to +his home, shortly after midnight, he found there the prisoner's horse, +which had not been there when Mr. Marquez left the house some four +hours previously: and that, at some time subsequent to twelve o'clock, +the witness Marquez was wakened by the entrance of the prisoner at the +bar, clad in a football suit, but wearing no nosepiece with it! And we +have the evidence of the sheriff's posse that they found in the home +of the witness, Rosalio Marquez, the football suit--which we offer as +Exhibit B. Nay, more! The prisoner did not deny, and indeed admitted, +that this uniform was his; but--mark this!--the searching party found +no nosepiece there! + +"It is true, Your Honor, that the stolen money was not found upon the +prisoner; it is true that the prisoner made no use of the opportunity +to escape offered him by his lawless and disreputable friend, Rosalio +Marquez--a common gambler! Doubtless, Your Honor, his cunning had +devised some diabolical plan upon which he relied to absolve himself +from suspicion; and now, trembling, he has for the first time learned +of the fatal flaw in his concocted defense, which he had so fondly +deemed invincible!" + +All eyes, including the orator's, here turned upon the prisoner--to +find him, so far from trembling, quite otherwise engaged. The +prisoner's elbow was upon the rail, his chin in his hand; he regarded +Mr. Lake attentively, with cheerful amusement and a quizzical smile +which in some way subtly carried an expression of mockery and malicious +triumph. To this fixed and disconcerting regard Mr. Lake opposed an +iron front, but the effort required was apparent to all. + +There was an uneasy rustling through the court. The prisoner's bearing +was convincing, natural; this was no mere brazen assuming. The +banker's forced composure was not natural! He should have been an angry +banker. Of the two men, Lake was the less at ease. The prisoner's face +turned at last toward the door. Blank unrecognition was in his eyes as +they swept past Ellinor, but he shook his head once more, very slightly. + +There was a sense of mystery in the air--a buzz and burr of whispers; a +rustle of moving feet. The audience noticeably relaxed its implacable +attitude toward the accused, eyed him with a different interest, seemed +to feel for the first time that, after all, he was accused merely, +and that his defense had not yet been heard. The prosecutor felt this +subtle change; it lamed his periods. + +"It is true, Your Honor, that no eye save God's saw this guilty man do +this deed; but the web of circumstantial evidence is so closely drawn, +so far-reaching, so unanswerable, so damning, that no defense can avail +him except the improbable, the impossible establishment of an alibi so +complete, so convincing, as to satisfy even his bitterest enemy! We +will ask you, Your Honor, when you have seen how fully the evidence +bears out our every contention, to commit the prisoner, without bail, +to answer the charge of robbery and attempted murder!" + +Then, by the door, Jeff saw the girl start up. She swept down the +aisle, radiant, brave, unfearing, resolute, all half-gods gone; she +shone at him--proud, glowing, triumphant! + +A hush fell upon the thrilled room. Jeff was on his feet, his hand held +out to stay her; his eyes spoke to hers. She stopped as at a command. +Scarcely slower, Billy was at her side. "Wait! Wait!" he whispered. +"See what he has to say. There will be always time for that." Jeff's +eyes held hers; she sank into an offered chair. + +Cheated, disappointed, the court took breath again. Their dramatic +moment had been nothing but their own nerves; their own excited +imaginings had attached a pulse-fluttering significance to the flushed +cheeks of a prying girl, seeking a better place to see and hear, to +gratify her morbid curiosity. + +Jeff turned to the bench. + +"Your Honor, I have a perfectly good line of defense; and I trust no +friend of mine will undertake to change it. I will keep you but a +minute," he said colloquially. "I will not waste your time combating +the ingenious theory which the prosecution has built up, or in +cross-examination of their witnesses, who, I feel sure"--here he bowed +to the cloud of witnesses--"will testify only to the truth. I quite +agree with my learned friend"--another graceful bow--"that the case +he has so ably presented is so strong that it can successfully be +rebutted only by an alibi so clear and so incontestable, as my learned +friend has so aptly phrased it, as to convince if not satisfy ... my +bitterest enemy!" The bow, the subtle, icy intonation, edged the words. +The courtroom thrilled again at the unspoken thought: "_An enemy hath +done this thing!_" If, in the stillness, the prisoner had quoted the +words aloud in fierce denunciation, the effect could not have been +different or more startling. "And that, Your Honor, is precisely what I +propose to do!" + +His Honor was puzzled. He was a good judge of men; and the prisoner's +face was not a bad face. + +"But," he objected, "you have refused to call any witnesses for the +defense. Your unsupported word will count for nothing. You cannot prove +an alibi alone." + +"Can't I?" said Jeff. "Watch me!" + +With a single motion he was through the open window. Bending branches +of the nearest cottonwood broke his fall--the other trees hid his +flight. + +Behind him rose uproar, tumult and hullabaloo, a mass of struggling men +at cross purposes. Gun in hand, the sheriff, stumbling over some one's +foot--Monte's--ran to the window; but the faithful deputy was before +him, blocking the way, firing with loving care--at one particular +tree-trunk. He was a good shot, Jimmy. He afterward showed with pride +where each ball had struck in a scant six-inch space. Vainly the +sheriff tried to force his way through. There was but one stairway, and +it was jammed. Before the foremost pursuer had reached the open Jeff +had borrowed one of the saddled horses hitched at the rack and was away +to the hills. + +As Billy struggled through the press, searching for Ellinor, he found +himself at Jimmy's elbow. + +"A dead game sport--any turn in the road!" agreed Billy. + +The deputy nodded curtly; but his answer was inconsequent: + +"Rather in the brunette line--that bit of tangible evidence!" + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + THE NETTLE, DANGER + + "Bushel o' wheat, bushel o' rye-- + All 'at ain't ready, holler 'I'!" + + --_Hide and Seek._ + + +Double Mountain lies lost in the desert, dwarfed by the greatness all +about. Its form is that of a crater split from north to south into +irregular halves. Through that narrow cleft ran a straight road, once +the well-traveled thoroughfare from Rainbow to El Paso. For there was +precious water within those up-heaved walls; it was but three miles +from portal to portal; the slight climb to the divide had not been +grudged. Time was when campfires were nightly merry to light the narrow +cliffs of Double Mountain; when songs were gay to echo from them; when +this had been the only watering place to break the long span across the +desert. The railroad had changed all this, and the silent leagues of +that old road lay untrodden in the sun. + +Not untrodden on this the day after Jeff had established his alibi. A +traveler followed that lonely road to Double Mountain; and behind, +half-way to Rainbow Range, was a streak of dust; which gained on him. +The traveler's sorrel horse was weary, for it was the very horse Jeff +Bransford had borrowed from the hitching-rail of the courthouse square; +the traveler was that able negotiator himself; and the pursuing dust, +to the best of Jeff's knowledge and belief, meant him no good tidings. + +"Now, I got safe away from the foothills before day," soliloquized +Jeff. "Some gentleman has overtaken me with a spyglass, I reckon. +Civilization's getting this country plumb ruined! And their horses are +fresh. Peg along, Alibi! Maybe I can pick up a stray horse at Double +Mountain. If I can't there's no sort of use trying to get away on you! +I'll play hide-and-go-seek-'em. That'll let you out, anyway, so cheer +up! You done fine, old man! If I ever get out of this I'll buy you and +make it all right with you. Pension you off if you think you'll like +it. Get along now!" + +Twenty miles to Jeff's right the railroad paralleled the wagonroad in +an unbroken tangent of ninety miles' stretch. A southbound passenger +train crawled along the west like a resolute centipede plodding to +a date: behind the fugitive, abreast, now far ahead, creeping along +the shining straightaway. Forty miles the hour was her schedule; yet +against this vast horizon she could hardly be said to change place +until, sighting beyond her puny length, a new angle of the far western +wall completed the trinomial line. + +Escondido was hidden in a dip of plain--whence the name, Hidden, when +done into Saxon speech. The train was lost to sight when she stopped +there, but Jeff saw the tiny steam plume of her whistling rise in the +clear and taintless air; long after, the faint sound of it hummed +drowsily by, like passing, far-blown horns of faerie in a dream. And, +at no great interval thereafter, a low-lying dust appeared suddenly on +the hither rim of Escondido's sunken valley. + +Jeff knew the land as you know your hallway. That line of dust marked +the trail from Escondido Valley to the farther gate of Double Mountain. +Even if he should be lucky enough to get a change of mounts at the +spring in Double Mountain Basin he would be intercepted. Escape by +flight was impossible. To fight his way out was impossible. He had no +gun; and, even if he had a gun, he could not see his way to fight, +under the circumstances. The men who hunted him down were only doing +the right thing as they saw it. Had Jeff been guilty, it would have +been a different affair. Being innocent, he could make no fight for it. +He was cornered. + + "Said the little Eohippus: + 'I'm going to be a horse!'" + +So chanted Jeff, perceiving the hopelessness of his plight. + +The best gift to man--or, if not the best, then at least the rarest--is +the power to meet the emergency: to do your best and a little better +than your best when nothing less will serve: to be a pinch hitter. +It is to be thought that certain stages of affection, and more +particularly the presence of its object, affect unfavorably the +workings of pure intellect. Certain it is that capable Bransford, who +had cut so sorry a figure in Eden garden, now, in these distressing but +Eveless circumstances, rose to the occasion. Collected, resourceful, +he grasped every possible angle of the situation and, with the rope +virtually about his neck, cheerfully planned the impossible--the +essence of his elastic plan being to climb that very rope, hand over +hand, to safety. + +"Going round the mountain is no good on a give-out horse. They'll +follow my tracks," said Jeff to Jeff. Men who are much alone so shape +their thoughts by voicing them, just as you practice conversation +rather to make your own thought clear to yourself than to enlighten +your victim--beg pardon--your neighbor. Just a slip of the tongue. +_Vecino_ is the Spanish for neighbor, you know. Not so much to +enlighten your neighbor as to find out for yourself precisely what it +is you think. "Hiding in the Basin is no good. Can't get out. Would I +were a bird! Only one way. Got to go straight up--disappear--vanish in +the air. 'Up a chimney, up----' Naw, that's backward! 'Up a chimney, +down, or down a chimney, down; but not up a chimney, up, nor down a +chimney, up!' So that's settled! Now let me see, says the little man. +Mighty few Arcadians know me well enough not to be fooled--mebbe so. +Lake? Lake won't come. He'll be busy. There's Jimmy; but Jimmy's got a +shocking bad memory for faces sometimes, just now, my face. I think, +maybe, I could manage Jimmy. The sheriff? That would be real awkward, +I reckon. I'll just play the sheriff isn't in the bunch and build my +little bluff according to that pleasing fancy; for if he comes along it +is all off with little Jeff! + +"Now lemme see! If Gwin's working that little old mine of his--why, +he'll lie himself black in the face just for the principle of it. +Mighty interestin' talker, Gwin is. And if no one's there, I'll +be there. Not Jeff Bransford; he got away. I'll be Long--Tobe +Long--working for Gwin. Tobe Long. I apprenticed my son to a miner, and +the first thing he took was a new name!" + +Far away on the side of Double Mountain he could even now see the white +triangle of the tent at Gwin's mine--the Ophir--and the gray dump +spilling down the hillside. There was no smoke to be seen. Jeff made +up his mind there was no one at the mine--which was what he devoutly +hoped--and further developed his gleeful hypothesis. + +"Let's see now, Tobe. Got to study this all out. They most always leave +all their kegs full of water when they go away, so they won't have to +pack 'em up the first thing when they come back. If they did, I'm all +right. If they didn't, I'm in a hell of a fix! They'll leave 'em full, +though. Of course they did--else the kegs would all dry up and fall +down." He glanced over his shoulder. "Them fellows are ten or twelve +miles back, I reckon. They'll slow up so soon as they see I'm headed +off. I'll have time to fix things up--if only there's water in the kegs +at the mine!" He patted Alibi's head: "Now, old man, do your damnedest! +It's pretty tough on you, but your part will soon be over." + +Alibi had made a poor night of it, what with doubling and twisting in +the foothills, the bitter water of a gyp spring, and the scanty grass +of a cedar thicket; but he did his plucky best. On the legal other +hand, as Jeff had prophesied, the dustmakers behind had slackened their +gait when they perceived, by the dust of Escondido trail, that their +allies must cut the quarry off. So Alibi held his own with the pursuit. + +He came to the rising ground leading to the sheer base of Double +Mountain; then to the narrow Gap where the mountain had fallen asunder +in some age-old catacylsm. To the left, the dump of Ophir Mine hung on +the hillside above the pass; and on the broad trail zigzagging up to it +were burro-tracks, but no fresh tracks of men. The flaps of the white +tent on the dump were tightly closed. There was no one at the mine. +Jeff passed within the walls, through frowning gates of porphyry and +gneiss, and urged Alibi up the cañon. It was half a mile to the spring. +On the way he found three shaggy burros grazing beside the road. He +drove them into the small pen by the spring and tossed his rope on the +largest one. Then he unsaddled Alibi, tied hint to the fence by the +bridle rein, and searched his pockets for an old letter. This found, he +penciled a note and tied it to the saddle. It was brief: + + EN ROUTE, FOUR P.M. + + Please water my horse when he cools off. + + Your little friend, + JEFF BRANSFORD. + + P. S. Excuse haste. + +He made a plain trail of high-heeled boot-tracks to the spring, where +he drank deep; thence beyond, through the sandy soil, to the nearest +rocky ridge. Then, careful that every step fell on a bare rock, he came +circuitously back to the corral, climbed the fence, made his way to the +tied burro, improvised a bridle of cunning half-hitches, slipped from +the fence to the burro's back--a burro, by the way, is a donkey--named +the burro anew as Balaam, and went back down the cañon at the best +pace of which the belabored and astonished Balaam was capable. As +Jeff had hoped, the two other burros--or the other two burros, to be +precise--followed sociably, braying remonstrance. + +Without the mouth of the cañon Jeff rode up the steep trail to the +mine, also to the great disgust of his mount; but he must not walk--it +would leave boot-tracks. For the same reason, after freeing Balaam, his +first action was to pull off the telltale boots and replace them with +the smallest pair of hobnailed miner's shoes in the tent. With these he +carefully obliterated the few boot-tracks at the tent door. + +The water-kegs were full; Jeff swore his joyful gratitude and turned +his eye to the plain. The pursuing dust was still far away--seven +miles, he estimated, or possibly eight. The three burros nibbled on +the bushes below the dump; plainly intending to stay round camp with +an eye for possible tips. Jeff gave his whole-hearted attention to the +_mise-en-scène_. + +Never did stage manager toil so hard, so faithfully, so effectively as +this one--or with so great a need. He took stock of the available stage +properties, beginning with a careful inventory of the grub-chest. To +betray ignorance of its possibilities or deficiencies would be fatal. +Following a narrow trail round a little shoulder of hill, he found the +powder magazine. Taking three sticks of dynamite, with fuse and caps, +he searched the tent for the candle-box, lit a candle and went into the +tunnel with a brisk trot. "If this was a case of fight, now, I'd have +some pretty fair weapons here for close quarters," said Jeff; "but the +way I'm fixed I can't. No fighting goes--unless Lake comes." + +In the tunnel his luck held good. He found a number of good-sized +chunks of rock stacked along the wall near the breast--evidently +reserved for the ore pile at a more convenient season. Beneath three of +the largest of these rocks he carefully adjusted the three sticks of +giant powder, properly capped and fused, lit the fuses and retreated +to the safety of the dump. Three muffled detonations followed at short +intervals. Having thus announced the presence of mining operations, he +built a fire on the kitchen side of the dump to further advertise a +mind conscious of its own rectitude. The pleasant shadow of the hills +was cool about him; the flame rose clear and bright in the windless +air, to be seen from far away. + +He looked at the location papers in the monument by the ore stack; +simultaneously, by way of economizing time, emptying a can of salmon. +This was partly for the added verisimilitude of the empty tin, partly +because he was ravenously hungry. You may guess how he emptied the tin. + +The mine had changed owners since Jeff's knowledge of it. It was no +longer Gwin's sole property. The notice bore the signatures of J. Gwin, +C. W. Sanders and Walter Fleck. Jeff grinned and his eye brightened. He +knew Fleck only slightly; but Fleck's reputation among the cowmen was +good--that is to say, as you would see it, very bad. + +Pappy Sanders, postmaster and storekeeper of Escondido, was an old and +sorely tried friend of Jeff's. If Pappy had grub-staked the outfit----A +far-away plan began to shape vaguely in his fertile brain. He took the +little turquoise horse from his pocket and laid it in the till of the +violated trunk. Were you told about the violated trunk? Never mind--he +had done any amount of other things of which you have not been told; +for it was his task, in the brief time allotted to him, to master all +the innumerable details needful for an intelligent reading of his part. +He must make no blunders. + +He toiled like two men, each swifter and more savagely efficient than +himself; he upset the prim, old he-maidenish order of that carefully +packed, spick-and-span camp; he rumpled the beds; strewed old clothes, +books, candles, specimens, pipes and cigarette papers with lavish hand; +made untidy, sprawling heaps of tin plates; knives, forks and spoons; +spilled candle-grease and tobacco on the scoured table; and generally +gave things a cozy and habitable appearance. + +He gave a hundred deft touches here and there. He spread an open book +face downward on the table. (It was "Alice in Wonderland," and he +opened it at the Mock-Turtle.) Meanwhile an unoccupied eye snatched +titles from a shelf of books against possible question; he penned a +short note to himself--Mr. Tobe Long--in Gwin's handwriting, folded the +note to creases, twisted it to a spill, lit it, burned a corner of it, +pinched it out and threw it under the table; and, while doing these +and other things, he somehow managed to shed every article of Jeff +Bransford's clothing and to put on the work-stained garments of a miner. + +The perspiration on his face was no stage make-up, but good, honest +sweat. He rubbed stone-dust and sand on his sweaty arms and into his +sweaty hair; he rubbed most of it from his hair and into the two-days' +stubble on his face, simultaneously fishing razor and mug from the +trunk, leaving them in evidence on the table. He worked stone-dust +into his ears, behind his ears; he grimed it on forehead and neck; he +even dropped a little into his shoes, which all this while had been +performing independent miracles to make the camp look comfortable. He +threw on a dingy cap, thrust in the cap a miner's candlestick, with a +lighted candle, that it might properly drip upon him while he arranged +further details--and so faced the world as Tobe Long, a stooped and +overworked man! + +Mr. Tobe Long, working with feverish haste, dug a small cave half-way +down the steep side of the dump farthest from the road and buried +therein a tightly rolled bundle containing every article appertaining +to the defunct Bransford, with the single exception of the little +eohippus; a pocketknife, which a miner must have to cut powder and +fuse, having been found in the trunk--what time also the little +turquoise horse was transferred to Mr. Long's pocket to bring him luck +in his new career--a poor thing compared with the cowman's keen blade, +but better for Mr. Long's purposes, as smelling strongly of dynamite. +Then Mr. Long--Tobe--hid the grave by sliding and shoveling broken rock +down the dump upon it. + +Next he threw into a wheelbarrow drills, spoon, tamping stick, gads, +drill-hammer, rock-hammer, canteen, shovel and pick--taking care, even +in his haste, to select a properly matched set of drills--and trundled +the barrow up the drift at a pace which would give a Miners' Union the +rabies. At the breast, he unshipped his cargo in right miner's fashion, +the drills in a graduated stepladder row along the wall; loaded the +barrow with broken ore, a bit of charred fuse showing at the top, and +wheeled it out at the same unprofessional gait, leaving it on the dump +just above the spot where his late sepulchral rites had freshened the +appearance of the sunbeaten dump. + +He next performed his ablutions in an amateurish and perfunctory +fashion, scrupulously observing a well-defined waterline. + +"There!" said Mr. Long. "I near made a break that time!" He went back +to the barrow and trundled it assiduously to the tunnel's mouth and +back several times, carefully never in quite the same place--finally +leaving it not above the sepulchered spoil, but near the ore stack, +as befitted its valuable contents. "I got to think of everything. +One wrong break'll fix me good!" said Mr. Long. He felt his neck +delicately, as if he detected some foreign presence there. "In the +tunnel, now, there's only the one place where the wheel can go; so it +don't matter so much in there." + +The fire having now burned down to proper coals, Mr. Long set about +supper; with the corner of his eye on the lookout for the pursuers of +the late Bransford. He set the coffee-pot by the fire--they were now +in the edge of the tar-brush; there were only two of them. He put on a +pot of potatoes in their jackets--he could see them plainly, diminutive +black horsemen twinkling through the brush; he sliced bacon into a +frying-pan and put it aside to await his cue; he disposed other cooking +ware in lifelike attitudes near the fire--they were in the long +shadow of Double Mountain; their horses were jaded; they rode slowly. +He dropped the sour-dough jar and placed the broken pieces where they +would be inconspicuously visible. Having thus a perfectly obvious +excuse for not having sour-dough bread, which requires thirty-six hours +of running start for preliminary rising, Jeff--Mr. Tobe Long--mixed up +a just-as-good baking-powder substitute--they rode like young men; they +rode like young men not to the saddle born, and Tobe permitted himself +a chuckle: "By hooky, I've got an even chance for my little bluff!" + +He shook his head reprovingly at himself for this last admission. With +every minute he looked more like Tobe Long than ever--if only there had +been any Tobe Long to look like. His mind ran upon nuggets, pockets, +placers, faults, true fissure veins, the cyanide process, concentrates, +chlorides, sulphides, assays, leases and bonds; his face took on the +strained wistfulness which marks the confirmed prospector: he _was_ +Tobe Long! + +The bell rang. + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + THE SIEGE OF DOUBLE MOUNTAIN + + "Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes." + + --_The Dictionary._ + + +"Ho-o-e-ee! Hello-o!" + +As the curtain rose to the flying echoes Long stepped to the edge of +the dump, frying-pan in hand, and sent back an answering shout in the +startled high note of a lonely man taken unawares. + +"Hello-o!" He brandished his hospitable pan. Then he put it down, +cupped hands to mouth and trumpeted a hearty welcome: "Chuck! Come up! +Supper's ready!" + +"Can't! See any one go by about two hours ago?" + +"Hey? Louder!" + +"See a man on a sorrel horse?" + +"No-o! I been in the tunnel. Come up!" + +"Can't. We're after an outlaw!" + +"What?" + +"After a murderer!" + +"Wait a minute! I'll be down. Too hard to yell so far." + +Mr. Long started precipitately down the zig-zag; but the riders had got +all the information of interest that Mr. Long could furnish and they +were eager to be in at the death. + +"Can't wait! He's inside the mountain, somewheres. Some of the boys are +waiting for him at the other end." They rode on. + +Mr. Long posed for a statue of Disappointment, hung on the steep trail +rather as if he might conclude to coil himself into a ball and roll +down the hill to overtake them. + +"Stop as you come back!" he bellowed. "Want to hear about it." + +Did Jeff--Mr. Long--did Mr. Long now attempt to escape? Not so. Gifted +with prevision beyond most, Mr. Long's mind misgave him that these +young men would be baffled in their pleasing expectations. They would +be back before sundown, very cross; and a miner's brogan leaves a track +not to be missed. + +That Mr. Long was unfeignedly fatigued from the varied efforts of the +day need not be mentioned, for that alone would not have stayed his +flight; but the nearest water, save Escondido, was thirty-five miles; +and at Escondido he would be watched for--not to say that, when he was +missed, some of the searching party would straightway go to Escondido +to frustrate him. Present escape was not to be thought of. + +Instead, Mr. Long made a hearty meal from the simple viands that had +been in course of preparation when he was surprised, eked out by +canned corn fried in bacon grease to a crisp, golden brown. Then, +after a cigarette, he betook himself to sharpening tools with laudable +industry. The tools were already sharp, but that did not stop Mr. Long. +He built a fire in the forge, set up a stepladder of matched drills in +the blackened water of the tempering tub; he thrust a gad and one short +drill into the fire. When the gad was at a good cherry heat he thrust +it hissing into the tub to bring the water to a convincing temperature; +and when reheated he did it again. From time to time he held the one +drill to the anvil and shaped it, drawing it alternately to a chisel +bit or a bull bit. Mr. Long could sharpen a drill with any, having +been, in very truth, a miner of sorts--he could toy thus with one drill +without giving it any very careful attention, and his thoughts were now +busy on how best to be Mr. Long. + +Accordingly from time to time he added an artistic touch to Mr. +Long--grime under his finger-nails, a smudge of smut on an eyebrow. +His hands displeased him. After some experimenting to get the proper +heat of it he grasped the partially cooled gad with the drill-pincers +and held it very lightly to a favored few of those portions of the +hand known to chiromaniacs as the mounts of Jupiter, Saturn and other +extinct immortals. + +Satisfactory blisters-while-you-wait were thus obtained. These were +pricked with a pin; some were torn to tatters, with dust and coal +rubbed in to give them a venerable appearance. The pain was no light +matter; but Mr. Long had a real affection for Mr. Bransford's neck, and +it is trifles like these that make perfection. + +The next expedient was even more heroic. Mr. Long assiduously put +stone-dust in one eye, leaving it tearful, bloodshot and violently +inflamed; and the other one was sympathetically red. "Bit o' steel in +my eye," explained Mr. Long. Unselfish devotion such as this is all too +rare. + +All this while, at proper intervals, Mr. Long sharpened and resharpened +that one long-suffering drill. He tripped into the tunnel and smote a +mighty blow upon the country rock with a pick--therefore qualifying +that pick for repointing--and laid it on the forge as next on the list. + +What further outrage he meditated is not known, for he now heard a +horse coming up the trail. He was beating out a merry tattoo when a +white-hatted head rose through a trapdoor--rose above the level of the +dump, rather. + +Hammer in hand, Long straightened up joyfully as best he could, but +could not straighten up the telltale droop of his shoulders. It was not +altogether assumed, either, this hump. Jeff--Mr. Long--had not done so +much work of this sort for years and there was a very real pain between +his shoulderblades. Still, but for the exigencies of art, he might have +borne his neck less turtlewise than he did. + +"Hello! Get him? Where's your pardner?" + +"Watching the gap." The young man, rather breathless from the climb, +answered the last question first as he led his horse on the dump. "No, +we didn't get him; but he can't get away. Hiding somewhere in the Basin +afoot. Found his horse. Pretty well done up." The insolence of the +outlaw's letter smote him afresh; he reddened. "No tracks going out of +the Basin. Two of our friends guarding the other end. They say he can't +get out over the cliffs anywhere. That so?" The speech came jerkily; he +was still short of breath from his scramble. + +"Not without a flying machine," said Long. "No way out that I know of, +except where the wagonroad goes. What's he done?" + +"Robbery! Murder! We'll see that he don't get out by the wagonroad," +asserted the youth confidently. "Watch the gaps and starve him out!" + +"Oh, speaking of starving," said Tobe, "go into the tent and I'll bring +you some supper while you tell me about it. Baked up another batch of +bread on the chance you'd come back." + +"Why, thank you very much, Mr.----" + +"Long--Tobe Long." + +"Mr. Long. My name is Gurdon Steele. Glad to meet you. Why, if you will +be so kind--that is what I came up to see you about. If you can let us +have what we need of course we will pay you for it." + +"Of course you won't!" It had not needed the offer to place Mr. Gurdon +Steele quite accurately. He was a handsome lad, fresh-complexioned, +dressed in the Western manner as practised on the Boardwalk. "You're +welcome to what I got, sure; but I ain't got much variety. Gwin, the +old liar, said he was coming out the twentieth--and sure enough he +didn't; so the grub's running low. Table in the tent--come on!" + +"Oh, no, I couldn't, you know! Rex--that's my partner--is quite as +hungry as I am, you see; but if you could give me something--anything +you have--to take down there? I really couldn't, you know!" The +admirable doctrine of _noblesse oblige_ in its delicate application by +this politeness, was easier for its practitioner than to put it into +words suited to the comprehension of his hearer; he concluded lamely: +"I'll take it down there and we will eat it together." + +"See here," said Tobe, "I'm as hungry to hear about your outlaw as +you are to eat. I'll just throw my bedding and a lot of chuck on your +saddle. We'll carry the coffee-pot and frying-pan in our hands--and +the sugar-can and things like that. You can tank up and give me the +news in small chunks at the same time. Afterward two of us can sleep +while one stands guard." + +This was done. It was growing dark when they reached the bottom of the +hill. The third guardsman had built a fire. + +"Rex, this is Mr. Long, who has been kind enough to grubstake us and +share our watch with us." + +Mr. Steele, you have observed, had accepted Mr. Long without +question; but his first impression of Mr. Long had been gained under +circumstances highly favorable to the designs of the latter gentleman. +Mr. Steele had come upon him unexpectedly, finding him as it were +_in medias res_, with all his skillfully arranged scenery to aid the +illusion. The case was now otherwise--the thousand-tongued vouching +of his background lacked to him; Mr. Long had naught save his own +unthinkable audacity to belie his face withal. From the first instant +Mr. Rex Griffith was the prey of suspicions--acute, bigoted, churlish, +deep, dark, distrustful, damnable, and so on down to zealous. He had a +sharp eye; he wore no puttees; and Mr. Long had a vaguely uncomfortable +memory, holding over from some previous incarnation, of having seen +that long, shrewd face in a courtroom. + +The host, on hospitable rites intent, likewise all ears and eager +questionings, was all unconscious of hostile surveillance. Nothing +could be more carefree, more at ease than his bearing; his pleasant +anticipatory excitement was the natural outlook for a lonely and +newsless man. As the hart panteth for the water, so he thirsted for +the story; but his impatient, hasty questions, following false scents, +delayed the telling of the Arcadian tale. So innocent was he, so open +and aboveboard, that Griffith, watching, alert, felt thoroughly ashamed +of himself. Yet he watched, doubting still, though his reason rebelled +at the monstrous imaginings of his heart. That the outlaw, unarmed and +unasked, should venture--Pshaw! Such effrontery was inconceivable. +He allowed Steele to tell the story, himself contributing only an +occasional crafty question designed to enable his host to betray +himself. + +"Bransford?" interrupted Mr. Long. "Not Jeff Bransford--up South +Rainbow way?" + +"That's the man," said Steele. + +"I don't believe it," said Long flatly. He was sipping coffee with his +guests; he put his cup down. "I know him, a little. He don't----" + +"Oh, there's no doubt of it!" interrupted Steele in his turn. He +detailed the circumstances with skilful care. "Besides, why did he run +away? Gee! You ought to have seen that escape! It was splendid!" + +"Well, now, who'd 'a' thought that?" demanded Long, still only half +convinced. "He didn't strike me like that kind of a man. Well, you +never can tell! How come you fellows to be chasin' him?" + +"You see," said Steele, "every one was sure he had gone up to Rainbow. +The sheriff and posse is up there now, looking for him; but we +four--Stone and Harlow, the chaps at the other end, were with us, +you know--we were up in the foothills on a deerhunt. We were out +early--sun-up is the best time for deer, they tell me--and we had a +spyglass. Well, we just happened to see a man ride out from between two +hills, quite a way off. Stone noticed right away that he was riding a +sorrel horse. It was a sorrel horse that Bransford stole, you know. We +didn't suspect, though, who it was till a bit later. Then Rex tried to +pick him up again and saw that he was going out of his way to avoid the +ridges--keeping cover, you know. Then we caught on and took after him +pell-mell. He had a big start; but he was riding slowly so as not to +make a dust--that is, till he saw our dust. Then he lit out." + +"You're not deputies, then?" said Long. + +"Oh, no, not at all!" said Steele, secretly flattered. "So Harlow and +Stone galloped off to town. The program was that they'd wire down to +Escondido to have horses ready for them, come down on Number Six and +head him off. They were not to tell any one in Arcadia. There's five +thousand dollars' reward out for him--but it isn't that exactly. It was +a cowardly, beastly murder, don't you know; and we thought it would be +rather a big thing if we could take him alone." + +"You got him penned all right," said Tobe. "He can't get out, so far +as I know, unless he runs over us or the men at the other end. By +George, we must get away from this fire, too!" He set the example, +dragging the bedding with him to the shelter of a big rock. "He could +pick us off too slick here in the light. How're you going to get him? +There's a heap of country in that Basin, all rough and broken, full o' +boulders--mighty good cover." + +"Starve him out!" said Griffith. This was base deceit. Deep in his +heart he believed that the quarry sat beside him, well fed and +contented. Yet the unthinkable insolence of it--if this were indeed +Bransford--dulled his belief. + +Long laughed as he spread down the bed. "He'll shoot a deer. Maybe, if +he had it all planned out, he may have grub cached in there somewhere. +There's watertanks in the rocks. Say, what are your pardners at the +other side going to do for grub?" + +"Oh, they brought out cheese and crackers and stuff," said Gurd. + +"I'll tell you what, boys, you've bit off more than you can chaw," +said Jeff--Tobe, that is. "He can't get out without a fight--but, then, +you can't go in there to hunt for him without weakening your guard; +and he'd be under shelter and have all the best of it. He'd shoot you +so dead you'd never know what happened. I don't want none of it! I'd +as lief put on boxing gloves and crawl into a hole after a bear! Look +here, now, this is your show; but I'm a heap older'n you boys. Want to +know what I think?" + +"Certainly," said Rex. + +"Goin' to talk turkey to me?" An avaricious light came into Long's eyes. + +"Of course; you're in on the reward," said Rex diffidently and rather +stiffly. "We are not in this for the money." + +"I can use the money--whatever share you want to give me," said Long +dryly; "but if you take my advice my share won't be but a little. I +think you ought to keep under shelter at the mouth of this cañon--one +of you--and let the other one go to Escondido and send for help, quick, +and a lot of it." + +"What's the matter with you going?" asked Griffith disingenuously. He +wanted Long to show his hand. It would never do to abandon the siege +of Double Mountain to arrest this _soi-disant_ Long on mere suspicion. +On the other hand, Mr. Rex Griffith had no idea of letting Long escape +his clutches until his identity was established, one way or the other, +beyond all question. + +That was why Long declined the offer. His honest gaze shifted. "I ain't +much of a rider," he said evasively. Young Griffith read correctly the +thought which the excuse concealed. Evidently Long considered himself +an elder soldier, if not a better, than either of his two young guests, +but wished to spare their feelings by not letting them find it out. +Griffith found this plain solution inconsistent with his homicidal +theory: a murderer, fleeing for his life, would have jumped at the +chance. + +There are two sides to every question. Let us, this once, prove both +sides. Wholly oblivious to Griffith's lynx-eyed watchfulness and his +leading questions, Mr. Long yet recognized the futility of an attempt +to ride away on Mr. Griffith's horse with Mr. Griffith's benison. There +we have the other point of view. + +"We'll have to send for grub anyway," pursued the sagacious Mr. Long. +"I've only got a little left; and that old liar, Gwin, won't be out +for four days--if he comes then. And--er--look here now--if I was you +boys I'd let the sheriff and his posse smoke your badger out. They get +paid to tend to that--and it looks to me like some one was going to get +hurt. You've done enough." + +All this advice was so palpably sound that the doubter was, for the +second, staggered--for a second only. This was the man he had seen in +the prisoner's dock. He was morally sure of it. For all the difference +of appearance, this was the man. Yet those blasts--the far-seen +fire--the hearty welcome--this delivery of himself into their hands?... +Griffith scarcely knew what he did think. He blamed himself for his +unworthy suspicions; he blamed Gurdy more for having no suspicions at +all. + +"Anything else?" he said. "That sounds good." + +Tobe studied for some time. + +"Well," he said at last, "there may be some way he can get out. I don't +think he can--but he might find a way. He knows he's trapped; but +likely he has no idea yet how many of us there are. So we know he'll +try, and he won't be just climbing for fun. He'll take a chance." + +Steele broke in: + +"He didn't leave any rope on his saddle." + +Tobe nodded. + +"So he means to try it. Now here's five of us here. It seems to me +that some one ought to ride round the mountain the first thing in the +morning, and every day afterward--only here's hoping there won't be +many of 'em--to look for tracks. There isn't one chance in a hundred he +can climb out; but if he goes out of here afoot we've got him sure. The +man on guard wants to keep in shelter. It's light to-night--there's no +chance for him to slip out without being seen. You say the old watchman +ain't dead yet, Mr. Griffith?" + +"No. The latest bulletin was that he was almost holding his own." + +"Hope he gets well," said Long. "Good old geezer! Now, cap, I've worked +hard and you've ridden hard. Better set your guards and let the other +two take a little snooze." + +Griffith was not proof against the insidious flattery of this +unhesitant preference. He flushed with embarrassment and pleasure. + +"Well, if I'm to be captain, Gurd will take the first guard--till +eleven. Then you come on till two, Mr. Long. I'll stand from then on +till daylight." + +In five minutes Mr. Long was enjoying the calm and restful sleep of +fatigued innocence; but his poor captain was doomed to have a bad night +of it, with two Bransfords on his hands--one in the Basin and one in +the bed beside him. His head was dizzy with the vicious circle. Like +the gentlewoman of the nursery rhyme, he was tempted to cry: "Lawk 'a' +mercy on me, this is none of I!" + +If he haled his bedmate to justice and the real Bransford got +away--that would be a nice predicament for an ambitious young man! He +was sensitive to ridicule, and he saw here such an opportunity to earn +it as knocks but once at any man's door. + +If, on the other hand, while he held Bransford cooped tightly in the +Basin, this thrice-accursed Long should escape him and there should +be no Bransford in the Basin----What nonsense! What utter twaddle! +Bransford was in the Basin. He had found his horse and saddle, his +tracks; no tracks had come out of the Basin. Immediately on the +discovery of the outlaw's horse, Gurd had ridden back posthaste and +held the pass while he, the captain, had gone to the mouth of the +southern cañon and posted his friends. He had watched for tracks of +a footman every step of the way, going and coming; there had been no +tracks. Bransford was in the Basin. He watched the face of the sleeping +man. But, by Heaven, this was Bransford! + +Was ever a poor captain in such a predicament? A moment before he +had fully and definitely decided once for all that this man was not +Bransford, could not be Bransford; that it was not possible! His +reason unwaveringly told him one thing, his eyesight the other!... Yet +Bransford, or an unfortunate twin of his, lay now beside him--and, for +further mockery, slept peacefully, serene, untroubled.... He looked +upon the elusive Mr. Long with a species of horror! The face was drawn +and lined. Yet, but forty-eight hours of tension would have left +Bransford's face not otherwise. He had noticed Bransford's hands in the +courtroom--noticed their well-kept whiteness, due, as he had decided, +to the perennial cowboy glove. This man's hands, as he had seen by the +campfire, were blistered and calloused! Callouses were not made in a +day. He took another look at Long. Oh, thunder! + +He crept from bed. He whispered a word to sentry Steele; not to outline +the distressing state of his own mind, but merely to request Steele not +to shoot him, as he was going up to the mine. + +He climbed up the trail, chewing the unpalatable thought that Gurdon +had seen nothing amiss--yet Gurd had been at the trial! The captain +began to wish he had never gone on that deerhunt. + +He went into the tent, struck a match, lit a candle and examined +everything closely. There was no gun in the camp and no cartridges. He +found the spill of twisted paper under the table, smothered his qualms +and read it. He noted the open book for future examination in English. +And now Tobe's labors had their late reward, for Rex missed nothing. +Every effort brought fresh disappointment and every disappointment +spurred him to fresh effort. He went into the tunnel; he scrutinized +everything, even to the drills in the tub. The food supply tallied with +Long's account. No detail escaped him and every detail confirmed the +growing belief that he, Captain Griffith, was a doddering imbecile. + +He returned to the outpost, convinced at last. Nevertheless, merely to +quiet the ravings of his insubordinate instincts, now in open revolt, +he restaked the horses nearer to camp and cautiously carried both +saddles to the head of the bed. Concession merely encouraged the rebels +to further and successful outrages--the government was overthrown. + +He drew sentry Steele aside and imparted his doubts. That faithful +follower heaped scorn, mockery, laughter and abuse upon his shrinking +superior: recounted all the points, from the first blasts of dynamite +to the present moment, which favored the charitable belief above +mentioned as newly entertained by Captain Griffith concerning himself. +This belief of Captain Griffith was amply indorsed by his subordinate +in terms of point and versatility. + +"Of course they look alike. I noticed that the minute I saw him--the +same amount of legs and arms, features all in the fore part of his +head, hair on top, one body--wonderful! Why, you pitiful ass, that +Bransford person was a mighty keen-looking man in any company. +This fellow's a yokel--an old, rusty, cap-and-ball, single-shot +muzzle-loader. The Bransford was an automatic, steel-frame, high +velocity----" + +"The better head he has the more apt he is to do the unexpected----" + +"Aw, shut up! You've got incipient paresis! Stuff your ears in your +mouth and go to sleep!" + +The captain sought his couch convinced, but holding his first opinion, +savagely minded to arrest Mr. Long rather than let him have a gun +to stand guard with. He was spared the decision. Mr. Long declined +Gurdon's proffered gun, saying that he would be right there and he was +a poor shot anyway. + +Gurdon slept; Long took his place--and Captain Rex, from the bed, +watched the watcher. Never was there a more faithful sentinel than Mr. +Long. Without relaxing his vigilance even to smoke, he strained every +faculty lest the wily Bransford should creep out through the shadows. +The captain saw him, a stooped figure, sitting motionless by his rock, +always alert, peering this way and that, turning his head to listen. +Once Tobe saw something. He crept noiselessly to the bed and shook +his chief. Griffith came, with his gun. Something was stirring in the +bushes. After a little it moved out of the shadows. It was a prowling +coyote. The captain went back to bed once more convinced of Long's +fidelity, but resolved to keep a relentless eye on him just the same. +And all unawares, as he revolved the day's events in his mind, the +captain dropped off to troubled sleep. + +Mr. Long woke him at three. There had been a temptation to ride away, +but the saddles were at the head of the bed, the ground was stony; he +would be heard. He might have made an attempt to get both guns from +under the pillow, but detection meant ruin for him, since to shoot +these boys or to hurt them was out of the question. Escape by violence +would have been easy and assured. Jeff preferred to trust his wits. He +was enjoying himself very much. + +When the captain got his relentless eyes open and realized what had +chanced he saw that further doubt was unworthy. Half an hour later the +unworthy captain stole noiselessly to Long's bedside and saw, to his +utter rage and distraction, that Mr. Bransford was there again. It was +almost too much to bear. He felt that he should always hate Long, even +after Bransford was safely hanged. Bransford's head had slipped from +Long's pillow. Hating himself, Griffith subtly withdrew the miner's +folded overalls and went through the pockets. + +He found there a knife smelling of dynamite, matches, a turquoise +carved to what was plainly meant to be the form of a bad-tempered +horse, and two small specimens of ore! + +Altogether, the captain passed a wild and whirling night. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + THE SIEGE OF DOUBLE MOUNTAIN + + (_Continued_) + + "If the bowl had been stronger + My tale had been longer." + + --_Mother Goose._ + + +When the sun peeped over Rainbow Range, Captain Griffith bent over Tobe +Long's bed. His eyes were aching, burned and sunken; the lids twitched; +his face was haggard and drawn--but he had arrived at an unalterable +decision. This thing could not and should not go on. His brain reeled +now--another such night would entitle him to state protection. + +He shook Mr. Long roughly. + +"See here! I believe you're Bransford himself!" + +Thus taken off his guard, Long threw back the bedding, rose to one +elbow, still half asleep, and reached for his shoes, laughing and +yawning alternately. Then, as he woke up a little more, he saw a better +way to dress, dropped the shoes and unfurled his pillow--which, by day, +he wore as overalls. Fumbling behind him, where the pillow had lain, +he found a much-soiled handkerchief and tenderly dabbed at his swollen +eye. + +"Bit of steel in my eye from a drill-head," he explained. "Jiminy, but +it's sore!" + +Plainly he took the accusation as a pleasantry calling for no answer. + +"I mean it! I'm going to keep you under guard!" said Captain Griffith +bitingly. + +Poor, sleepy Tobe, half-way into his overalls, stared up at Mr. +Griffith; his mouth dropped open--he was quite at a loss for words. The +captain glared back at him. Tobe kicked the overalls off and cuddled +back into bed. + +"Bully!" he said. "Then I won't have to get breakfast!" + +Gurdon Steele sat up in bed, a happy man. His eye gave Mr. Long a +discreetly confidential look, as of one who restrains himself, out of +instinctive politeness, from a sympathetic and meaningful tap of one's +forehead. A new thought struck Mr. Long. He reached over behind Steele +for the rifle at the bed's edge and thrust it into the latter's hands. + +"Here, Boy Scout! Watch me!" he whispered. "Don't let me escape while I +sleep a few lines! I'm Bransford!" + +Gurdie rubbed his eyes and giggled. + +"Don't you mind Rex. That's the worst of this pipe habit. You never can +tell how they'll break out next." + +"Yes, laugh, you blind bat!" said Rex bitterly. "I've got him all the +same, and I'm going to keep him while you go to Escondido!" His rifle +was tucked under his arm; he patted the barrel significantly. + +It slowly dawned upon Mr. Long that Captain Griffith was not joking, +after all, and an angry man was he. He sat up in bed. + +"Oh, piffle! Oh, fudge! Oh, pickled moon-shine! If I'm Bransford what +the deuce am I doing here? Why, you was both asleep! I could 'a' shot +your silly heads off and you'd 'a' never woke up. You make me tired!" + +"Don't mind him, Long. He'll feel better when he takes a nap," said +Gurd joyfully. "He has poor spells like this and he misses his nurse. +We always make allowances for him." + +Mr. Long's indignation at last overcame his politeness, and in his +wrath he attacked friend and foe indiscriminately. + +"Do you mean to tell me you two puling infants are out hunting down a +man you never saw? Don't the men at the other side know him either? By +jinks, you hike out o' this after breakfast and send for some grown-up +men. I want part of that reward--and I'm going to have it! Look here!" +He turned blackly to Gurdon. "Are you sure that Bransford, or any one +else, came in here at all yesterday, or did you dream it? Or was it all +a damfool kid joke? Listen here! I worked like a dog yesterday. If you +had me stand guard three hours, tired as I was, for nothing, there's +going to be more to it. What kind of a sack-and-snipe trick is this, +anyway? You just come one at a time and I'll lick the stuffin' out o' +both o' you! I ain't feelin' like any schoolboy pranks just now." + +"No, no; that part's all straight. Bransford's in there, all right," +protested Gurdon. "If you hadn't been working in the tunnel you'd have +seen him when he went by. Here's the note he left. And his horse and +saddle are up at the spring. We left the horse there because he was +lame and about all in. Bransford can't get away on him. Rex is just +excited--that's all the matter with him. Hankering for glory! I told +him last night not to make a driveling idiot of himself. Here, read +this insolent note, will you?" + +Long glowered at the note and flung it aside. "Anybody could 'a' +wrote that! How am I to know this thing ain't some more of your funny +streaks? You take these horses to water and bring back Bransford's +horse and saddle, and then I'll know what to believe. Be damn sure you +bring them, too, or we'll go to producing glory right here--great gobs +and chunks of it! You Griffith! put down that gun or I'll knock your +fool head off! I'm takin' charge of this outfit now, and don't you +forget it! And I don't want no maniac wanderin' round me with a gun. +You go to gatherin' up wood as fast as ever God'll let you!" + +"Say, I was mistaken," said the deposed leader, thoroughly convinced +once more. "You do look like Bransford, you know." He laid down his +rifle obediently. + +"Look like your grandmother's left hind foot!" sneered the outraged +miner. "My eyes is brown and so's Bransford's. Outside o' that----" + +"No, but you do, a little," said his ally, Steele. "I noticed it +myself, last night. Not much--but still there's a resemblance. Poor Cap +Griffith just let his nerves and imagination run away with him--that's +all." + +Long sniffed. "Funny I never heard of it before," he said. He was +somewhat mollified, nevertheless; and, while cooking breakfast, he +received very graciously a stammered and half-hearted apology from +young Mr. Griffith, now reduced to the ranks. "Oh, that's all right, +kid. But say--you be careful and don't shoot your pardner when he comes +back." + +Gurdon brought back the sorrel horse and the saddle, thereby allaying +Mr. Long's wrathful mistrust that the whole affair was a practical joke. + +"I told you butter wouldn't suit the works!" said Rex triumphantly, and +watched the working of his test with a jealous eye. + +Long knew his Alice. "'But it was the best butter,'" he said. He +surveyed the sorrel horse; his eye brightened. "We'll whack up that +blood-money yet," he announced confidently. "Now I'm going to walk over +to the south side and get one of those fellows to ride sign round the +mountain. You boys can sleep, turn and turn about, till I get back. +Then I want Steele to go to Escondido and wire up to Arcadia that +we've got our bear by the tail and want help to turn him loose, and +tell Pappy Sanders to send me out some grub or I'll skin him. Pappy's +putting up for the mine, you know. I'll stay here and keep an eye on +Griffith." He gave that luckless warrior a jeering look, as one who has +forgiven but not forgotten. + +"Why don't you ride one of our horses?" said Gurdon. + +"Want to keep 'em fresh. Then if Bransford gets out over the cliffs +you can run him down like a mad dog," said Tobe. "Besides, if I ride a +fresh horse in here he'll maybe shoot me to get the horse; and if he +could catch you lads away from shelter maybe so he'd make a dash for +it, a-shootin'. See here! If I was dodgin' in here like him--know what +I'd do? I'd just shoot a few lines on general principles to draw you +away from the gates. Then if you went in to see about it I'd either +kill you if I had to, or slip out if you give me the chance. You just +stay right here, whatever happens. Keep under shelter and keep your +horses right by you. We got him bottled up and we won't draw the cork +till the sheriff comes. I'll tell 'em to do the same way at the other +end. I won't take any gun with me and I'll stick to the big main road. +That way Bransford won't feel no call to shoot me. Likely he's 'way up +in the cliffs, anyhow." + +"Ride the sorrel horse then, why don't you? He isn't lame enough to +hurt much, but he's lame enough that Bransford won't want him." Thus +Mr. Griffith, again dissimulating. Every detail of Mr. Long's plan +forestalled suspicion. That these measures were precisely calculated to +disarm suspicion now occurred to Griffith's stubborn mind. For he had a +stubborn mind; the morning's coffee had cleared it of cobwebs, and it +clung more tenaciously than ever to the untenable and thrice-exploded +theory that Long and Bransford were one and inseparable, now and +forever. + +He meditated an ungenerous scheme for vindication and, to that end, +wished Mr. Long to ride the sorrel horse. For Mr. Long, if he were +indeed the murderer--as, of course, he was--would indubitably, upon +some plausible pretext, attempt to pass the guards at the farther end +of the trip, where was no clear-eyed Griffith on guard. What more +plausible that a modification of the plan already rehearsed--for Long +to tell the wardens that Griffith had sent him to telegraph to the +sheriff? Let him once pass those warders on any pretext! That would be +final betrayal, for all his shrewdness. There was no possibility that +Long and Bransford could complete their escape on that lame sorrel. +He would not be allowed to get much of a start--just enough to betray +himself. Then he, Griffith, would bring them back in triumph. + +It was a good scheme: all things considered, it reflected great credit +upon Mr. Griffith's imagination. As in Poe's game of "odd or even," +where you must outguess your opponent and follow his thought, Mr. Rex +Griffith had guessed correctly in every respect. Such, indeed, had +been Mr. Long's plan. Only Rex did not guess quite often enough. Mr. +Long had guessed just one layer deeper--namely, that Mr. Griffith +would follow his thought correctly and also follow him. Therefore Mr. +Long switched again. It was a bully game--better than poker. Mr. Long +enjoyed it very much. + +Just as Rex expected, Tobe allowed himself to be overpersuaded and +rode the sorrel horse. He renamed the sorrel horse Goldie, on the +spot, saddled him awkwardly, mounted in like manner, and rode into the +shadowy depths of Double Mountain. + +Once he was out of sight Mr. Griffith followed, despite the angry +protest of Mr. Steele--alleging falsely that he was going to try for a +deer. + +Tobe rode slowly up the crooked and brush-lined cañon. Behind him, +cautiously hidden, came Griffith, the hawk-eyed avenger--waiting +at each bend until Mr. Long had passed the next one, for closer +observation of how Mr. Long bore himself in solitude. + +Mr. Long bore himself most disappointingly. He rode slowly and +awkwardly, scanning with anxious care the hillsides before him. Not +once did he look back lest he should detect Mr. Griffith. Near the +summit the Goldie horse shied and jumped. It was only one little +jump, whereunto Goldie had been privately instigated by Mr. Long's +thumb--"thumbing" a horse, as done by one conversant with equine +anatomy, produces surprising results!--but it caught Mr. Long unawares +and tumbled him ignominiously in the dust. + +Mr. Long sat in the sand and rubbed his shoulder: Goldie turned and +looked down at him in unqualified astonishment. Mr. Long then cursed +Mr. Bransford's sorrel horse; he cursed Mr. Bransford for bringing +the sorrel horse; he cursed himself for riding the sorrel horse; he +cursed Mr. Griffith, with one last, longest, heart-felt, crackling, +hair-raising, comprehensive and masterly curse, for having persuaded +him to ride the sorrel horse. Then he tied the sorrel horse to a bush +and hobbled on afoot, saying it all over backward. + +Poor Griffith experienced the most intense mortification--except +one--of his life. This was conclusive. Bransford was reputed the best +rider in Rainbow. This was Long. He was convinced, positively, finally +and irrevocably. He did not even follow Mr. Long to the other side of +Double Mountain, but turned back to camp, keeping a sharp eye out for +traces of the real Bransford; to no effect. It was only by chance--a +real chance--that, clambering on the gatepost cliffs to examine a +curious whorl of gneiss, he happened to see Mr. Long as he returned. +Mr. Long came afoot, leading the sorrel horse. Just before he came +within sight of camp he led the horse up beside a boulder, climbed +clumsily into the saddle, clutched the saddle-horn, and so rode into +camp. The act was so natural a one that Griffith, already convinced, +was convinced again--the more so because Long preserved a discreet +silence as to the misadventure with the sorrel horse. + +Mr. Long reported profanely that the men on the other side had also +been disposed to arrest him, and had been dissuaded with difficulty. + +"So I guess I must look some like Bransford, though I would never 'a' +guessed it. Reckon nobody knows what they really look like. Chances are +a feller wouldn't know himself if he met him in the road. That squares +you, kid. No hard feelings?" + +"Not a bit. I certainly thought you were Bransford, at first," said +Griffith. + +"Well, the black-eyed one--Stone--he's coming round on the west side +now, cutting sign. You be all ready to start for Escondido as soon as +he gets here, Gurd. Say, you don't want to wait for the sheriff if he's +up on Rainbow. You wire a lot of your friends to come on the train at +nine o'clock to-night. Sheriff can come when he gets back. There ain't +but a few horses at Escondido. You get Pappy Sanders to send your gang +out in a wagon--such as can't find horses." + +"Better take in both of ours, Gurd," said Griffith. He knew Long was +all right, as has been said, but he was also newly persuaded of his own +fallibility. He had been mistaken about Long being Bransford; therefore +he might be mistaken about Long being Long. In this spirit of humility +he made the suggestion recorded above, and was grieved that Long +indorsed it. + +"And I want you to do two errands for me, kid. You give this to Pappy +Sanders--the storekeeper, you know"--here he produced the little +eohippus from his pocket--"and tell him to send it to a jeweler +for me and get a hole bored in it so it'll balance. Want to use +it for a watch-charm when I get a watch. And if we pull off this +Bransford affair I'll have me a watch. Now don't you lose that! It's +turquoise--worth a heap o' money. Besides, he's a lucky little horse." + +"I'll put him in my pocketbook," said Gurdon. + +"Better give him to Pappy first off, else you're liable to forget +about him, he's so small. Then you tell Pappy to send me out some +grub. I won't make out no bill. He's grubstakin' the mine; he'll +know what to send. You just tell him I'm about out of patience. Tell +him I want about everything there is, and want it quick; and a jar +for sour dough--I broke mine. And get some newspapers." He hesitated +perceptibly. "See here, boys, I hate to mention this; but old Pappy, +him and this Jeff Bransford is purty good friends. I reckon Pappy won't +much like it to furnish grub for you while you're puttin' the kibosh on +Jeff. You better get some of your own. You see how it is, don't you? +'Tain't like it was my chuck." + +Stone came while they saddled. He spoke apart with Griffith as to Mr. +Long, and a certain favor he bore to the escaped bank-robber; but +Griffith, admitting his own self-deception in that line, outlined the +history of the past unhappy night. Stone, who had suffered only a +slight misgiving, was fully satisfied. + +As Steele started for the railroad Mr. Stone set out to complete the +circuit of Double Mountain, in the which he found no runaway tracks. +And Griffith and Long, sleeping alternately--especially Griffith--kept +faithful ward over the gloomy gate of Double Mountain. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + FLIGHT + + "Keep away from that wheelbarrow--what the hell do you know about + machinery?"--ELBERT HUBBARD.[2] + + [Footnote 2: It is not intimated that Mr. Hubbard wrote + this--merely that he printed it.--AUTHOR.] + + +Just after dark a horseman with a led horse came jogging round the +mountain on the trail from Escondido. On the led horse was a pack bound +rather slouchily, not to a packsaddle, but to an old riding saddle. The +horses were unwilling to enter the circle of firelight, so the rider +drew rein just beyond--a slender and boyish rider, with a flopping +wide-brimmed hat too large for him. + +"Oh, look who's here!" said Tobe, as one who greets an unexpected +friend. + +"Hello, Tobe! Here's your food, grub, chuck and provisions! Got your +outlaw yet? Them other fellows will be out along toward midnight." He +went on without waiting for an answer: "Put me on your payroll. Pappy +said I was to go to work--and if you was going to quit work to hunt +down his friend you'd better quit for good. Lead on to your little old +mine. I don't know where it is, even." + +"I'll go up and unpack, Rex," said Tobe; "but, of course, I'm not going +to lose my part of that five thousand. Pappy's foolish. He's gettin' +old. I'll be back after a while and bring down the papers." + +Chatting of the trapped outlaw, the Ophir men climbed the zig-zag to +the mine. To Griffith, their voices dwindled to an indistinct murmur; a +light glowed through the tent on the dump. + +The stranger pressed into Jeff's hand something small and hard--the +little eohippus. "Here's your little old token. Pappy caught on at once +and he sent me along to represent. Let's get this pack off and get out +of here. Do we have to go down the same trail again?" + +"Oh, no," said Jeff. "There's a wood-trail leads round the mountain to +the east. Who're you? I don't know you." + +"Charley Gibson. Pappy knows me. He sent the little stone horse to +vouch for me. I'm O. K. Time enough to explain when we've made a clean +getaway." + +"You're damn right there," Jeff said. "That boy down yonder is nobody's +fool. I'll light a candle in the tent and he'll think I'm reading the +newspapers. That'll hold him a while." + +"I'll be going on down the trail," said Gibson. "This way, isn't it?" + +"Yes, that's the one. All right. Go slow and don't make any more noise +than you can help." + +Jeff would have liked his own proper clothing and effects, but there +was no time for resuscitation. Lighting the candle, he acquired "Alice +in Wonderland" and thrust it into the bosom of his shirt. It had been +years since last he read that admirable work; his way now led either +to hiding or to jail--and, with Alice to share his fate, he felt equal +to either fortune. He left the candle burning: the tent shone with a +mellow glow. + +"If he didn't hear our horses coming down we're a little bit of all +right," said Jeff, as he rejoined his rescuer on the level. "Even if he +does, he may think we've gone to hobble 'em--only he'd think we ought +to water 'em first. Now for the way of the transgressor, to Old Mexico. +This little desert'll be one busy place to-morrow!" + +They circled Double Mountain, making a wide detour to avoid rough +going, and riding at a hard gallop until, behind and to their right, +a red spark of fire came into view from behind a hitherto intervening +shoulder, marking where Stone and Harlow held the southward pass. + +Jeff drew rein and bore off obliquely toward the road at an easy trot. + +"They're there yet. So that's all right!" he said. "They've just put +on fresh wood. I saw it flame up just then." He was in high feather. +He began to laugh, or, more accurately, he resumed his laughter, for +he had been too mirthful for much speech. "That poor devil Griffith +will wait and fidget and stew! He'll think I'm in the tent, reading the +newspapers--reading about the Arcadian bank robbery, likely. He'll wait +a while, then he'll yell at me. Then he'll think we've gone to hobble +the horses. He won't want to leave the gap unguarded. He won't know +what to think. Finally he'll go up to the mine and see that pack piled +off any which way, and no saddles. Then he'll know, but he won't know +what to do. He'll think we're for Old Mexico, but he won't know it for +sure. And it's too dark to track us. Oh, my stars, but I bet he'll be +mad!" + + * * * * * + +Which shows that we all make mistakes. Mr. Griffith, though young, +was of firm character, as has been lightly intimated. He waited a +reasonable time to allow for paper-reading, then he waited a little +longer and shouted; but when there was no answer he knew at once +precisely what had happened: he had not been a fool at all, whatever +Steele and Bransford had assured him, and he was a bigger fool to +have allowed himself to be persuaded that he had been. It is true +that he didn't know what was best to do, but he knew exactly what he +was going to do--and did it promptly. Seriously annoyed, he spurred +through Double Mountain, gathered up Stone and Harlow, and followed the +southward road. Bransford had been on the way to Old Mexico--he was on +that road still; Griffith put everything on the one bold cast. While +the others saddled he threw fresh fuel on the fire, with a rankling +memory of the candle in the deserted tent and Hannibal at Saint Jo. For +the first time Griffith had the better of the long battle of wits. That +armful of fuel slowed Jeff from gallop to trot, turned assured victory +into a doubtful contest; when the fugitives regained the El Paso road +Griffith's vindictive little band was not five miles behind them. + +The night was lightly clouded--not so dark but that the pursuers +noticed--or thought they noticed--the fresh tracks in the road when +they came to them. They stopped, struck matches and confirmed their +hopes: two shod horses going south at a smart gait; the dirt was torn +up too much for travelers on their lawful occasions. From that moment +Griffith urged the chase unmercifully; the fleeing couple, in fancied +security, lost ground with every mile. + + * * * * * + +"How on earth did you manage it? Didn't they know you?" demanded Gibson +as the pace slackened. + +"It wasn't me! It was Tobe Long! 'You may not have lived much under the +sea, and perhaps you were never even introduced to a lobster,'" quoted +Jeff. Rocking in the saddle, he gave a mirthful résumé of his little +evanishment. "And, oh, just think of that candle burning away in that +quiet, empty tent! If I could have seen Griffith's face!" he gloated. +"Oh me! Oh my!... And he was so sure!... Say, Gibson, how do you come +in this galley?" As a lone prospector his speech had been fittingly +coarse; now, with every mile, he shook off the debasing influence of +Mr. Long. "Kettle-washing makes black hands. Aren't you afraid you'll +get into trouble?" + +"Nobody knows I'm kettle-washing, except Pappy Sanders and you," said +Gibson. "I was careful not to let your friend see me at the fire." + +"I'll do you a good turn sometime," said Jeff. He rode on in silence +for a while and presently was lost in his own thoughts, leaning over +with his hands folded on his horse's neck. In a low and thoughtful +voice he half repeated, half chanted to himself: + + "Illilleo Legardi, in the garden there alone, + There came to me no murmur of the fountain's undertone + So mystically, magically mellow as your own!" + +Another silence. Then Jeff roused himself, with a start. + +"I'll tell you what, Gibson, you'd better cut loose from me. So far +as I can see, you are only a kid. You don't want to get mixed up in a +murder scrape. This would go pretty hard with you if they can prove it +on you. Of course, I'm awfully obliged to you and all that; but you'd +better quit me while the quitting's good." + +"Oh, no; I'll see you through," said Gibson lightly. "Besides, I know +you had nothing to do with the murder." + +"Oh, the hell you do!" said Jeff. "That's kind of you, I'm sure. See +here, who'd sold you your chips, anyway? How'd you get in this game?" + +"I got in this game, as you put it, because I jolly well wanted to," +replied Charley, with becoming spirit. "That ought to be reason enough +for anything in this country. Nothing against it in the rules--and +I don't use the rules, anyhow. If you must have it all spelled out +for you--I knew, or at least I'd heard, that your friends were away +from Rainbow; so I judged you wouldn't go up there. Then I knew those +four amateur Sherlocks--they're in my set in Arcadia. When two of the +deerhunters, after starting at two a.m., came back to Arcadia the same +morning they left, looking all wise and important, and slipped off on +the train to Escondido, saying nothing to any one--and when the other +two didn't come home at all--I began to think; went down to the depot, +found they had gone to Escondido, and I came on the next train. I found +out Pappy was your friend; and when he got your little hurry-up call +I volunteered my services, seeing Pappy was too old and not footloose +anyhow--with a wife and property. That's the how of it." + +"Oh, yes, that's all right; but what makes you think I'm innocent?" + +"I know Mr. White, you see. And Mr. White seems to think that at about +the time the bank was robbed you were--in a garden!" Charley's voice +was edged with faint mockery. + +"Huh!" said Jeff, startled. "Who in hell is Mr. White?" + +"Mr. White--in hell--is the devil!" said Charley. + +At this unexpected disclosure Jeff lashed his horse to a gallop--his +spurs, you remember, being certain feet under the Ophir dump--and +strove to bring his thoughts to bear upon this new situation. He slowed +down and Charley drew up beside him. + +"You seem to have stayed quite a while--in a garden," suggested Charley. + +"That tongue of yours is going to get you into trouble yet," said Jeff. +"You'll never live to be grayheaded." + +Charley was not to be daunted. + +"Say, Jeff, she's pretty easy to get acquainted with, what? And those +eyes of hers--a little on the see-you-later style, aren't they?" + +Jeff turned in his saddle. + +"Now you look here, Mr. Charley Gibson! I'm under obligations to you, +and so on--but I've heard all of that kind of talk that's good--_sabe_?" + +"Oh, I know her," persisted Charley. "Know her by heart--know her like +a book. She made a fool of me, too. She drives 'em single, double, +tandem, random and four abreast!" + +"You little beast!" Jeff launched his horse at the traducer, but Gibson +spurred aside. + +"Stop now, Jeffy! Easy does it! I've got a gun!" + +"Shut your damn head then! Gun or no gun, don't you take that girl's +name in your mouth again, or----Hark! What's that?" + +It was a clatter far behind--a ringing of swift hoofs on hard ground. + +"By George, they're coming! Griffith will be a man yet!" said Jeff +approvingly. "Come on, kid; we've got to burn the breeze! I suppose +that talk of yours is only your damn fool idea of fun, but I don't like +it. Cut it out, now, and ride like a drunk Indian!" He laughed loud +and long. "Think o' that candle, will you?--burning away with a clear, +bright, steady flame, and nobody within ten miles of it!" + +They raced side by side; but Gibson, heedless of their perilous +situation, or perhaps taking advantage of it, took a malicious delight +in goading Jeff to madness; and he refused either to be silent or to +talk about candles, notwithstanding Jeff's preference for that topic. + +"I'm not joking! I'm telling you for your own good." Here the tormentor +prudently fell back half a length and raised his voice so as to be +heard above the flying feet. "Hasn't she gone back to New York, I'd +like to know, and left you to get out of it the best way you can? She +could 'a' stayed if she'd wanted to. Don't tell me! Haven't I seen how +she bosses her mother round? No, sir! She's willing to let you hang to +save herself a little slander--or, more likely, a little talk!" + +Jeff whirled his horse to his haunches, but once more Gibson was too +quick for him. Gibson's horse was naturally the nimbler of the two, +even without the advantage of spurs. + +"That's a lie! She was going to tell--she was bound to tell; I made her +keep silent. After I jumped out she couldn't well say anything. That's +why I jumped. Was I going to make her a target for such vile tongues +as yours--for me? Oh! You ought to be shot out of a red-hot cannon, +through a barbed-wire fence, into hell! You lie, you coward, you know +you lie! I'll cram it down your throat if you'll get off and throw that +gun down!" + +"Yah! It's likely I'll put the gun down!" scoffed Gibson. "Ride on, you +fool! Do you want to hang? Ride on and keep ahead! Remember, I've got +the gun!" + +"Hanging's not so bad," snarled Jeff. "I'd rather be hung decently +than be such a thing as you! Oh, if I just had a gun!" + +The sound of pursuit was clearer now; and, of course, the pursuers +could hear the pursued as well and fought for every inch. + +Jeff rode on, furious at his helplessness. For several miles his +tormentor raced behind in silence, fearing, if he persisted longer +in his evil course, that Jeff would actually stop and give himself +up. They gained now on their pursuers, who had pressed their horses +overhard to make up the five-mile handicap. + +As they came to a patch of sandy ground they eased the pace somewhat. +Charley drew a little closer to Jeff. + +"Now don't get mad. I had no idea you thought so much of the girl----" + +"Shut up, will you?" + +"----or I wouldn't have deviled you so. I'll quit. How was I to know +you'd stop to fight for her with the very rope round your neck? It's +a pity she'll never know about it.... You can't have seen her more +than two or three times--and Heaven only knows where that was! On that +camping trip, I reckon. What kind of a girl is she, anyhow, to hold +clandestine interviews with a stranger?... She'll write to you by and +by--a little scented note, with a little stilted, meaningless word of +thanks. No, she won't. It'll be gushy: 'Oh, my hero! How can I ever +repay you?' She won't let you out of her clutches--anybody, so long as +it's a man! Here! None o' that!... Go on, now, if you want to live!" + +"_Who the hell wants to live?_" + +A noose flew back from the darkness. Jeff's horse darted aside and +Gibson was jerked sprawling to the sand at a rope's end--hat flew one +way, gun another. Jeff ran to the six-shooter. + +"Who's got the gun now?" he jeered, as he loosened the rope. "I only +wish we had two of 'em!" + +"You harebrained idiot!" Charley grabbed up his hat and spit sand from +his mouth. "Get your horse and ride, you unthinkable donkey!" + +"Pleasure first, business afterward!" Jeff unbuckled Gibson's gunbelt +and transferred it to his own waist, jerking Gibson to his feet in the +violent process. "Now, you little blackguard, you either take back all +that or you'll get the lickin' o' your life! You're too small; but all +the same----" + +"Oh, I'll take it back, you big bully--all I said and a lot more I only +thought!" said Charley spitefully. He was almost crying with rage as +he limped to his horse. "She's an angel on earth! Sure she is! Ride, +you maniac--ride! Oh, you ought to be hung! I hope you do hang--you +miserable ruffian!" + +The following hoofs no longer rang sharply; they took on a muffled +beat--they were in the sand's edge not a mile behind. + +"Ride ahead, you! I've got the gun, remember!" observed Jeff +significantly; "but if you slur that girl again I'll not shoot +you--I'll naturally wear you out with this belt." + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + GOOD-BY + + "They have ridden the low moon out of the sky; their hoofs drum up + the dawn."--_Two Strong Men_, KIPLING. + + +"I'm not speaking of her and I'm not going to," protested Gibson, in a +changed tone. "I'll promise! My horse is failing, Jeff. I rode hard and +fast from Escondido. Your horse carried nothing much but a saddle--that +pack was mostly bluff, you know. And those fellows' horses have come +twenty miles less than either of ours." + +No answer. + +"I don't believe we're going to make it, Jeff!" There was a forlorn +little quaver in Charley's voice. + +Jeff grunted. "Uh! Maybe not. Griffith'll be real pleased." + +Gibson rode closer. "Can't we turn off the road and hide?" + +"Till daylight," said Jeff. "Then they'll get us. No way out of this +desert except across the edges somewhere. You go if you want to. They +won't bother to hunt for you, maybe, if they get me." + +"No. It's my fault.... I'll see it out.... I'm sorry, Jeff--but it was +so funny!" Here, rather to Jeff's surprise, Charley's dejection gave +place to laughter. + +They rode up a sandy slope where mesquites grew black along the road. +Blown sand had lodged to hummocks in their thick and matted growth; the +road was a sunken way. + +"How far is it from here, Jeff?" + +"Ten miles--maybe only eight--to the river. We're in Texas now--have +been for an hour." + +"Think we can make it?" + +"_Quien sabe?_" + +Gibson drew rein. "You go on. Your horse isn't so tired." + +"Oh, I guess not!" said Jeff. "Come on." + +The sound of pursuit came clear through the quiet night. There was +silence for a little. + +"What'll you do, Jeff? Fight?" + +"I can't!" said Jeff. "Hurt those boys? I couldn't fight, the way it +is--hardly, even if 'twas the sheriff. I'll just hang, I reckon." + +They reached the top of the little slope and turned down the other side. + +"I don't altogether like this hanging idea," said Gibson. "I got you +into this, Jeff; so I'll just get you out again--like the man in our +town who was so wondrous wise. Going to use bramble bushes, too." +Volatile Gibson, in the stress of danger, had forgotten his wrath. He +was light-hearted and happy, frivolously gay. "Give me your rope and +your gun, Jeff. Quick now! No, I won't mention your girl--not once! +Hurry!" + +"What you going to do?" asked Jeff, thoroughly mystified. + +"Ever read the 'Fool's Errand'?" Charley chuckled. "No? Well, I have. +Jump off and tie the end of your rope to that mesquite root. Quick!" + +He sprang down, snatched one end of the coil from Jeff's hand and +stretched it taut across the road, a foot from the ground. "Now your +gun! Quick!" + +He snatched the gun, tied an end of his own saddle-rope to the +stretched one, near the middle, plunged through the mesquite, over a +hummock, paying out his rope as he went; wedged the gun firmly in the +springing crotch of a mesquite tree, cocked it and tied the loose end +of the trailing rope to the trigger. He ran back and sprang on his +horse. + +"Now ride! It's our last chance!" + +"Kid, you're a wonder!" said Jeff. "You'll do to take along! They'll +lope up when they turn down that slope, hit that rope and pile in a +heap!" + +"And my rope will fire the gun off!" shrilled joyous Charley. "They'll +think it's us--an ambuscade----" + +"They'll take to the sand-hills," Jeff broke in. "They'll shoot into +the bushes--they'll think it's us firing back, half the time.... +They'll scatter out and surround that lonesome, harmless motte and +watch it till daylight. You bet they won't go projecting round it any +till daylight, either!" He looked up at the sky. "There's the morning +star. See it? 'They have ridden the low moon out of the sky'--only +there isn't any moon--'their hoofs drum up the dawn.' Then they'll +find our tracks--and if I only could see the captain's face! 'Oh, my +threshings, and the corn of my floor!'... And by then we'll be in +Mexico and asleep.... When Griffith finds that gun--oh, he'll never +show his head in Arcadia again!... Say, Charley, I hope none of 'em get +hurt when they strike your skip-rope." + +"Huh! It's sandy! A heap you cared about me getting hurt when you +dragged me from my horse!" said Gibson, rather snappishly. "You did +hurt me, too. You nearly broke my neck and you cut my arms. And I got +full of mesquite thorns when I set that gun. You don't care! I'm only +the man that came to save your neck. That's the thanks I get! But the +men that are trying to hang you--that's different! You'd better go +back. They might get hurt. You'll be sorry sometime for the way you've +treated me. There--it's too late now!" + +A shot rang behind them. There was a brief silence. Then came a sharp +fusillade, followed by scattering shots, dwindling to longer intervals. + +Jeff clung to his saddle-horn. + +"I guess they ain't hurt much," he laughed. "Wish I could see 'em when +they find out! Slow down, kid. We've got lots of time now." + +"We haven't," protested Charley. "Keep moving. It's hard on the horses, +but they'll have a lifetime to rest in. They've telegraphed all over +the country. You want to cross the river before daylight. It would be +too bad for you to be caught now! Is there any ford, do you know?" + +"Not this time of year. River's up." + +"Cross in a boat then?" + +"Guess we'd better. That horse of yours is pretty well used up. Don't +believe he could swim it." + +"Oh, I'm not going over. I'll get up to El Paso. I've got friends +there." + +"You'll get caught." + +"No, I won't. I'm not going across, I tell you, and that's all there +is to it! I guess I'll have something to say about things. I'm going +to see you safely over, and that's the last you'll ever see of Charley +Gibson." + +"Oh, well!" Jeff reflected a little. "If you're sure you won't come +along, I'd rather swim. My horse is strong yet. You see, it takes time +to find a boat, and a boat means a house and dogs; and I'll need my +horse on the other side. How'll you get to El Paso? Griffith'll likely +come down here about an hour by sun, 'cross lots, a-cryin'." + +"I'll manage that," said Gibson curtly enough. "You tend to your own +affair." + +"Oh, all right!" Jeff rode ahead. He whistled; then he chanted his war +song: + + "Said the little Eohippus: + 'I'm going to be a horse! + And on my middle finger-nails + To run my earthly course!' + The Coryphodon was horrified; + The Dinoceras was shocked; + And they chased young Eohippus, + But he skipped away and mocked. + + "Said they: 'You always were as small + And mean as now we see, + And that's conclusive evidence + That you're always going to be. + What! Be a great, tall, handsome beast, + With hoofs to gallop on? + Why! You'd have to change your nature!' + Said the Loxolophodon." + +"Jeff!" + +"Well?" Jeff turned his head. Charley was drooping visibly. + +"Stop that foolish song!" + +Jeff rode on in silence. This was a variable person, Gibson. They were +dropping down from the mesa into the valley of the Rio Grande. + +"Jeff!" + +Jeff fell back beside Charley. "Tired, pardner?" + +"Jeff, I'm terribly tired! I'm not used to riding so far; and I'm +sleepy--so sleepy!" + +"All right, pardner; we'll go slower. We'll walk. Most there now. +There's the railroad." + +"Keep on trotting. I can stand it. We must get to the river before +daylight. Is it far?" Charley's voice was weary. The broad sombrero +drooped sympathetically. + +"Two miles to the river. El Paso's seven or eight miles up the line. +Brace up, old man! You've done fine and dandy! It's just because the +excitement is all over. Why should you go any farther, anyhow? There's +Ysleta up the track a bit. Follow the road up there and flag the first +train. That'll be best." + +"No, no. I'll go all the way. I'll make out." Charley straightened +himself with an effort. + +They crossed the Espee tracks and came to a lane between cultivated +fields. + +"Jeff! I'd like to say something. It won't be breaking my promise +really.... I didn't mean what I said about--you know. I was only +teasing. She's a good enough girl, I guess--as girls go." + +Jeff nodded. "I did not need to be told that." + +"And you left her in a cruel position when you jumped out of the +window. She can't tell now, so long as there's any other way. What a +foolish thing to do! If you'd just said at first that you were in the +garden----Oh, why didn't you? But after the chances you took rather +than to tell--why, Jeff, it would be terrible for her now." + +"I know that, too," said Jeff. "I suppose I was a fool; but I didn't +want her to get mixed up with it, and at the same time I cared less +about hanging than any time I can remember. You see, I didn't know till +the last minute that the garden was going to cut any figure. And do you +suppose I'd have that courthouseful of fools buzzing and whispering at +her? Not much! Maybe it was foolish--but I'm glad I did it." + +"I'm glad of it, too. If you had to be a fool," said Charley, "I'm glad +you were that kind of a fool. Are you still mad at me?" + +Since Charley had recanted, and more especially since he had taken +considerate thought for the girl's compulsory silence, Jeff's anger had +evaporated. + +"That's all right, pardner.... Only you oughtn't never to talk that way +about a girl--even for a joke. That's no good kind of a joke. Men, now, +that's different. See here, I'll give you an order to a fellow in El +Paso--Hibler--to pay for your horses and your gun. Here's your belt, +too." + +Charley shook his head impatiently. "I don't want any money. Settle +with Pappy for the horses. I won't take this one back. Keep the belt. +You may want it to beat me with sometime. What are you going to do, +Jeff? Aren't you ever coming back?" + +"Sure I'll come back--if only to see Griffith again. I'll write to John +Wesley Pringle--he's my mainest side pardner--and sick him on to find +out who robbed that bank--to prove it, rather. I just about almost +nearly know who it was. Old Wes'll straighten things out a-flying. I'll +be back in no time. I got to come back, Charley!" + +The river was in sight. The stars were fading; there was a flush in the +east, a smell of dawn in the air. + +"Jeff, I wish you'd do something for me." + +"Sure, Charley. What is it?" + +"I wish you'd give me that little turquoise horse to remember you by." + +Jeff was silent for a little. He had framed out another plan for the +little eohippus--namely, to give him to Miss Ellinor. He sighed; but he +owed a good deal to Charley. + +"All right, Charley. Take good care of him--he's a lucky little horse. +I think a heap of him. Here we are!" + +The trees were distinct in the growing light. Jeff rode into the river; +the muddy water swirled about his horse's knees. He halted for parting; +Gibson rode in beside him. Jeff took the precious Alice book from +his bosom, put it in the crown of his miner's cap and jammed the cap +tightly on his head. + +"Better change your mind, Charley. Come along. We'll rout somebody out +and order a dish of stewed eggs. + + "There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. + The farther off from England the nearer 'tis to France; + Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance. + Will you--won't you----" + +"'No, I won't! I told you once!'" snapped the beloved snail. + +"Here's the little eohippus horse then." As Charley took it Jeff wrung +his hand. "By George, I've got to change my notion of Arcadia people. +If there's many like you and Griffith, Arcadia's going to crowd the +map!... Well--so long!" + +"It looks awful wide, Jeff!" + +"Oh, I'll be all right--swim it myself if the horse plays out--and +if I don't have no cramps, as I might, of course, after this ride. +Well--here goes nothin'! Take care of the little horse. I hope he +brings you good luck!" + +"Well--so long, then!" + +Bransford rode into the muddy waters. They came to the horse's breast, +his neck; he plunged in, sank, rose, and was borne away down the swift +current, breasting the flood stoutly--and so went quartering across +to the farther bank. It took a long time. It was quite light when +the horse found footing on a sandbar half a mile below, rested, and +splashed whitely through the shallows to the bank. Gibson swung his +sombrero. Jeff waved his hand, rode to the fringing bushes, and was +gone. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + THE LAND OF AFTERNOON + + "Dreaming once more love's old sad dream divine." + + +Los Baños de Santa Eulalia Del Norte, otherwise known as Mud Springs, +is a Mexican hamlet with one street of about the same length. Los Baños +and Co. lies in a loop of the Rio Grande, half of a long day from El +Paso, in mere miles; otherwise a contemporary of Damascus and Arpad. + +Thither, mindful of the hot springs which supply the preliminaries of +the name, Mr. Bransford made his way: mindful too, of sturdy old Don +Francisco, a friend twice bound by ancient service given and returned. + +He climbed the slow long ridges to the high _mesa_: for the river bent +here in a long ox-bow, where a bold promontory shouldered far out to +bar the way: weary miles were to be saved by crossing the neck of this +ox-bow, and the tough horse tired and lagged. + +The slow sun rose as he reached the Rim. It showed the wide expanse +of desert behind him, flooded with trembling light; eastward, beyond +the river, the buttressed and fantastic peaks of Fray Cristobal; their +jutting shadows streaming into the gulf beyond, athwart the silvery +ribbon of gleaming water, twining in mazy loops across the valley +floor: it showed the black Rim at his feet, a frowning level wall of +lava cliff, where the plain broke abruptly into the chasm beneath; +the iron desolation of the steep sides, boulder-strewn, savage and +forbidding: + + "_A land of old up-heaven from the abyss._" + +Long since, there had been a flourishing Mexican town in the valley. +A wagonroad had painfully climbed a long ridge to the Rim, twisting, +doubling, turning, clinging hazardously to the hillside, its outer +edge a wall built up with stone, till it came to the shoulder under +the tremendous barrier. From there it turned northward, paralleling +the Rim in mile-long curve above a deep gorge; turning, in a last +desperate climb, to a solitary gateway in the black wall, torn out +by flood-waters through slow centuries. Smallpox had smitten the +people; the treacherous river had devastated the fertile valley, and, +subsiding, left the rich fields a waste of sand. The town was long +deserted; the disused road was gullied and torn by flood, the soil +washed away, leaving a heaped and crumbled track of tangled stone. But +it was the only practicable way as far as the sand-hills, and Jeff led +his horse down the ruined path, with many a turning back and scrambling +detour. + +The shadows of the eastern hills drew back before him as he reached the +sand-dunes. When he rode through the silent streets of what had been +Alamocita, the sun peered over Fray Cristobal, gilding the crumbling +walls, where love and laughter had made music, where youth and hope +and happiness had been.... Silent now and deserted, given over to +lizard and bat and owl, the smiling gardens choked with sand and grass, +springing with _mesquite_ and _tornillo_; a few fruit trees, gnarled +and tangled, drooping for days departed, when young mothers sang low +lullaby beneath their branches.... Passed away and forgotten--hopes and +fears, tears and smiles, birth and death, joy and sorrow, hatred and +sin and shame, falsehood and truth and courage and love. The sun shone +cheerfully on these gray ruins--as it has shone on a thousand such, and +will shine. + +Jeff turned down the river, past the broken _acequias_, to where +a massive spur of basaltic rock had turned the fury of the floods +and spared a few fields. In this sheltered cove dwelt Don Francisco +Escobar in true pastoral and patriarchal manner; his stalwart sons +and daughters, with their sons and daughters in turn, in clustering +_adobes_ around him: for neighbors, the allied family of Gonzales y +Ortega. + +A cheerful settlement, this of Los Baños, nestling at the foot of the +friendly rampart, sheltered alike from flood and wind. South and west +the close black Rim walled the horizon, the fantasy of Fray Cristobal +closed in the narrow east: but northward, beyond the low sand-hills and +the blue heat-haze, the high peaks of Organ, Guadalupe and Rainbow swam +across the sleepy air, far and soft and dim. + +In their fields the _gente_ of Gonzales y Ortega and of Escobar raised +ample crops of alfalfa, wheat, corn, _frijoles_ and _chili_, with +orchard, vineyard and garden. Their cows, sheep and goats grazed the +foothills between river and Rim, watched by the young men or boys, +penned nightly in the great corrals in the old Spanish fashion; as if +the Moor still swooped and forayed. Their horses roamed the hills at +will, only a few being kept in the alfalfa pasture. They ground their +own grain, tanned their cow-hides at home. Mattress and pillow were +wool of their raising, their blankets and cloth their own weave. There +were granaries, a wine-press, a forge, a cumbrous stone mill, a great +_adobe_ oven like a monstrous bee-hive. + +Once a year their oxen drew the great high-sided wagons up the sandy +road to El Paso, and returned with the year's marketing--salt, axes, +iron and steel, powder and lead, bolts of white domestic or _manta_ +for sheets and shirtings, matches, tea, coffee, tobacco and sugar. +Perhaps, if the saints had been kind, there were a few ribbons, +trinkets or brightly colored prints of Joseph and Virgin and Child, St. +John the Beloved, The Annunciation, The Children and Christ; perhaps an +American rifle or a plow. But, for the most part, they held not with +innovations; plowed, sowed and reaped as their fathers did, threshing +with oxen or goats. + +The women sewed by hand, cooked on fireplaces; or, better still, in +the open air under the trees, with few and simple utensils. The family +ate from whitest and cleanest of sheepskins spread on the floor. +But, the walls were snowy with whitewash, the earthen floors smooth +and clean, the coarse linen fresh and white. The scant furniture of +the rooms--a pine bed, a chair or two, a mirror, a brass candlestick +(with home-made candles), a cheap print on the wall, a great chest for +clothes, blankets and simple treasures, the bright fire in the cozy +fireplace--all combined to give an indescribable air of cheerfulness, +of homely comfort and of rest. This quiet corner, where people still +lived as simply as when Abraham went up from Ur of the Chaldees, in +the spring-time of the world, held, for seeing eyes, an incommunicable +charm. + +When Jeff came at last to Casa Escobar, the cattle were already on the +hills, the pigs and chickens far afield. Don Francisco, white-haired, +erect, welcomed him eagerly, indeed, but with stately courtesy. + +"Is it thou indeed, my son? Now, my old eyes are gladdened this day. +Enter, then, _amigo mio_, thrice-welcome--the house is thine in very +truth. Nay, the young men shall care for thy horse." + +He raised his voice. Three tall sons, Abran, Zenobio, Donociano, came +at the summons, gave Bransford grave greeting, and stood to await their +father's commands. Fathers of families themselves, they presumed not to +sit unbidden, to join in the conversation, or to loiter. + +Breakfast was served presently, in high state, on the table reserved +for honored guests. Savory venison, chile, fish, eggs, _tortillas_, +_etole_, _enchiladas_, cream and steaming coffee--such was the fare. +Don Francisco sat gravely by to bear him company, while a silently +hovering damsel anticipated every need. + +Thence, when his host could urge no more upon him, to the deep +shading cottonwoods. Wine was brought and the "makings" of +cigarettes--corn-husks, handcut; a great jar of tobacco; and a brazier +of mesquite embers. At a little distance women washed, wove or +sewed; the young men made buckskin, fashioned quirts, whips, ropes, +bridle-reins, tie-straps, hobbles, pack-sacks and _chaparejos_ of +raw-hide; made cinches of horse-hair; wrought ox-yokes, plow-beams and +other things needful for their simple husbandry. + +Meanwhile, Don Francisco entertained his guest with grave and leisurely +recital of the year's annals. Mateo, son of Sebastian, had slain a +great bear in the Pass of All the Winds; Alicia, daughter of their +eldest, was wed with young Roman de la O, of Cañada Nogales, to the +much healing of feud and ancient hatred; Diego, son of Eusebio, was +proving a bold and fearless rider of wild horses, with reason, as +behooved his father's son; he had carried away the _gallo_ at the +_Fiesta de San Juan_, with the fleet dun colt "creased" from the wild +bunch at Quemado; the herds had grown, the crops prospered, all sorrow +passed them by, through the intercession of the blessed saints. + +The year's trophies were brought. He fingered with simple pride the +great pelt of the silver-tip. Antlers there were and lion-skins, +gleaming prisms of quartz, flint arrowheads and agates brought in by +the shepherds, the costly Navajo blanket won by the fleet-limbed dun at +Cañada races. + +Hither came presently another visitor--Florentino, breaker of wild +horses, despite his fifty years; wizened and withered and small, +merry and cheerful, singer of forgotten folk-songs; chanting, even +as he came, the song of Macario Romero--Macario, riding joyous and +light-hearted, spite of warning, omen and sign, love-lured to doom and +death. + + "'Concedame una licencia + Voy á ir á ver á me Chata.' + + "Dice Macario Romero, + Parando en los estribos: + 'Madre, pues, esto voy á ver, + Si todos son mis amigos!'" + +And so, listening, weary and outworn, Jeff fell asleep. + + * * * * * + +Observe now, how Nature insists upon averages. Mr. Jeff Bransford was, +as has been seen, an energetic man; but outraged nerves will have their +revenge. After making proper amends to his damaged eye, Jeff's remnant +of energy kept up long enough to dispatch young Tomas Escobar y Mendoza +to El Paso with a message to Hibler: which message enjoined Hibler at +once to carry tidings to John Wesley Pringle, somewhere in Chihuahua, +asking him kindly to set right what Arcadian times were out of joint, +as he, Jeff, felt the climate of Old Mexico more favorable for his +throat trouble than that of New Mexico; with a postscript asking Hibler +for money by bearer. And young Tomas was instructed to buy, at Juarez, +a complete outfit of clothing for Jeff, including a gun. + +This done, the reaction set in--aided, perhaps, by the enervating +lassitude of the hot baths and the sleepy atmosphere of that forgotten +village. Jeff spent the better part of a week asleep, or half awake +at best. He had pleasant dreams, too. One--perhaps the best dream +of all--was that on their wedding trip they should follow again the +devious line of his flight from Arcadia. That would need a prairie +schooner--no, a prairie steamboat--a prairie yacht! He would tell her +all the hideous details--show her the mine, the camp of the besiegers, +the ambuscade on the road. And if he could have Ellinor meet Griffith +and Gibson for a crowning touch! + +After the strenuous violence of hand-strokes, here was a drowsy and +peaceful time. The wine of that land was good, the shade pleasant, +the Alician philosophy more delightful than of yore; he had all the +accessories, but one, of an earthly paradise. + +Man is ungrateful. Jeff was a man; neglectful of present bounties, his +dreaming thoughts were all of the absent accessory and of a time when +that absence should be no more, nor paradise be empty. + +Life, like the Gryphon's classical master, had taught him Laughter +and Grief. He turned now the forgotten pages of the book of his +years. Enough black pages were there; as you will know well, having +yourself searched old records before now, with tears. He cast up that +long account--the wasted lendings, the outlawed debts, the dishonored +promises, the talents of his stewardship, unprofitable and brought +to naught; set down--how gladly!--the items on the credit side. So +men have set the good upon one side and the evil on the other since +Crusoe's day, and before; against the time when the Great Accountant, +Whose values are not ours, shall strike a final balance. + +Take that book at your elbow--yes, either one; it doesn't matter. Now +turn to where the hero first discovers his frightful condition--long +after it has become neighborhood property.... He bent his head in +humility. He was not worthy of her!... Something like that? Those may +not be the precise words; but he groaned. He always groans. By-the-way, +how this man-saying must amuse womankind! Yes, and they actually say it +too--real, live, flesh-and-blood men. Who was it said life was a poor +imitation of literature? Happily, either these people are insincere or +they reconsider the matter--else what should we do for families? + +It is to be said that Jeff Bransford lacked this becoming delicacy. +If he groaned he swore also; if he decided that Miss Ellinor Hoffman +deserved a better man than he was, he also highly resolved that she +should not have him. + +"For, after all, you know," said Jeff to Alice: + + "I'm sure he's nothing extra--a quiet man and plain, + And modest--though there isn't much of which he could be vain. + And had I mind to chant his praise, this were the kindest line-- + Somehow, she loves him dearly--this little love of mine!" + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + TWENTIETH CENTURY + + "And there that hulking Prejudice + Sat all across the road. + + * * * * * + + I took my hat, I took my coat, + My load I settled fair, + I approached that awful incubus + With an absent-minded air-- + And I walked directly through him + As if he wasn't there!" + + --_An Obstacle_: + CHARLOTTE PERKINS STETSON. + + +Johnny Dines rode with a pleasant jingle down the shady street of Los +Baños de Santa Eulalia del Norte. His saddle was new, carven, wrought +with silver; his bridle shone as the sun, his spurs as bright stars; +he shed music from his feet. Jeff saw him turn to Casa Escobar: apple +blossoms made a fragrant lane for him. He paused at Jeff's tree. + +"_Alto alli!_" said Johnny. The words, as sharp command, can be managed +in two brisk syllables. The sound is then: "_Altwai!_" It is a crisp +and startling sound, and the sense of it in our idiom is: "Hands up!" + +Jeff had been taking a late breakfast _al fresco_; he made glad room on +his bench. + +"Light, stranger, and look at your saddle! Pretty slick saddle, too. +Guess your playmates must 'a' went home talking to themselves last +night." + +"They're going to kill a maverick for you at Arcadia and give a +barbecue," said Johnny. The cult of _nil admirari_ reaches its highest +pitch of prosperity in the cow-countries, and Johnny knew that it was +for him to broach tidings unasked. + +"Oh, that reminds me--how's old Lars Porsena?" said Jeff, now free to +question. + +"Him? He's all right," said Johnny casually. "Goin' to marry one or +more of the nurses. They're holdin' elimination contests now." + +"Say, Johnny, when you go back, I wish you'd tell him I didn't do it. +Cross my heart and hope to die if I did!" + +"Oh, he knows it wasn't you!" said Johnny. + +Jeff shook his head doubtfully. + +"Evidence was pretty strong--pretty strong! Who was it then?" + +"Why, Lake himself--the old hog!" + +"If Lake keeps on like this he's going to have people down on him," +said Jeff. "Who did the holmesing--John Wesley?" + +"Oh, John Wesley! John Wesley!" said Dines scornfully. "You think the +sun rises and sets in old John Wesley Pringle. Naw; he didn't get back +till it was all over. I cannot tell a lie. I did it with my little +hatchet!" + +"Must have had it sharpened up!" said Jeff. "Tell it to me!" + +"Why, there isn't much to tell," said Dines, suddenly modest. "Come to +think of it, I had right considerable help. There was a young college +chap--he first put it into my head that it wasn't you." + +"That would be the devil?" said Jeff, ignoring the insult. + +"Just so. Name's White--and so's he: Billy White, S. M. and G. P." + +"I don't just remember them degrees," said Jeff. + +"Aw, keep still and you'll hear more. They stand for Some Man and Good +People. Well, as I was a-saying, Billy he seemed to think it wasn't +you. He stuck to it that Buttinski--that's what he calls you--was in a +garden just when the bank was robbed." + +Johnny contemplated the apple tree over his head. It was a wandering +and sober glance, but a muscle twitched in his cheek, and he made no +further explanation about the garden. + +"And then I remembered about Nigger Babe throwin' you off, and I began +to think maybe you didn't crack the safe after all. And there was some +other things--little things--that made Billy and Jimmy Phillips--he was +takin' cards in the game too--made 'em think maybe it was Lake; but it +wasn't no proof--not to say proof. And there's where I come in." + +"Well?" said Jeff, as Johnny paused. + +"Simple enough, once you knowed how," said Johnny modestly. "I'd been +reading lots of them detective books--Sherlock Holmes and all them +fellows. I got Billy to have his folks toll Lake's sister away for the +night, so she wouldn't be scared. Then me and Billy and Jimmy Phillips +and Monte, we broke in and blowed up Lake's private safe. No trouble at +all. Since the bank-robbin' every one had been tellin' round just how +it ought to be done--crackin' safes. Funny how a fellow picks up little +scraps of useful knowledge like that--things you'd think he'd remember +might come in handy most any time--and then forgets all about 'em. I +wrote it down this time. Won't forget it again." + +"Well?" said Jeff again. + +"Oh, yes. And there was the nice money--all the notes and all of the +gold he could tote." + +Jeff's eye wandered to the new saddle. + +"I kept some of the yellow stuff as a souvenir--half a quart, or maybe +a pint," said Johnny. "I don't want no reward for doin' a good deed.... +And that's all." + +"Lake is a long, ugly word," said Jeff thoughtfully. + +"Well, what do you say?" prompted Johnny. + +"Oh, thank you, thank you!" said Jeff. "You showed marvelous +penetration--marvelous! But say, Johnny, if the money hadn't been there +wouldn't that have been awkward?" + +"Oh, Billy was pretty sure Lake was the man. And we figured he hadn't +bothered to move it--you being the goat that way. What made you be +a goat, Jeff? That whole performance was the most idiotic break I +ever knew a grown-up man to get off. I knew you were not strictly +accountable, but why didn't you say, 'Judge, your Honor, sir, at the +time the bank was being robbed I was in a garden with a young lady, +talking about the hereafter, the here and the heretofore?'" + +"On the contrary, what made your Billy think it was Lake?" + +Johnny told him, in detail. + +"Pretty good article of plain thinking, wasn't it?" he concluded. "Yet +he mightn't have got started on the right track at all if he hadn't had +the straight tip about your bein' in a garden." Johnny's eye reverted +to the apple tree. "Lake found your noseguard, you know, where you +left it. I reckon maybe he saw you leave it there.--Say, Jeff! Lake's +grandfather must have been a white man. Anyhow, he's got one decent +drop of blood in him, from somewhere. For when we arrested him, he +didn't say a word about the garden. That was rather a good stunt, I +think. Bully for Lake, just once!" + +"Right you are! And, Mr. J. Dines, I've been thinking----" Jeff began. + +Johnny glanced at him anxiously. + +"----and I've about come to the conclusion that we're some narrow +contracted and bigoted on Rainbow. We don't know it all. We ain't the +only pebble. From what I've seen of these Arcadia men they seem to be +pretty good stuff--and like as not it's just the same way all along the +beach. There's your Mr. White, and Griffith, and Gibson--did I tell you +about Gibson?" + +Johnny flashed a brilliant smile. His smiles always looked larger than +they really were, because Johnny was a very small man. + +"I saw Griffith and he gave me his version--several times. He's real +upset, Griffith.... Last time he told me, he leaned up against my neck +and wept because there was only ten commandments!" + +"Didn't see Gibson, did you? You know him?" + +"Nope. Pappy picked him up--or he picked Pappy up, rather. Hasn't +been seen since. I guess Gibby, old boy, has gone to the wild bunch. +He wouldn't suspect you of bein' innocent, and he dreamed he dwelt in +marble walls, makin' shoes for the state. So he gets cold feet and he +just naturally evaporates--good night!" + +"Yes--he said he was going to hike out, or something to that effect," +responded Jeff absently--the fact being that he was not thinking of +Gibson, at all, but was pondering deeply upon Miss Ellinor Hoffman. Had +she gone to New York according to the original plan? It did not seem +probable. Her face stood out before him--bright, vivid, sparkling, as +he had seen her last, in the court room of Arcadia. Good heavens! Was +that only a week ago? Seven days? It seemed seven years!--No--she had +not gone--at least, certainly not until she was sure that he, Jeff, had +made good his escape. Then, perhaps, she might have gone. Perhaps her +mother had made her go. Oh, well!--New York wasn't far, as he had told +her that first wonderful day on Rainbow Rim. What a marvelous day that +was! + +Jeff was suddenly struck with the thought that he had never seen +Ellinor's mother. Great Scott! She had a father, too! How annoying! He +meditated upon this unpleasant theme for a space. Then, as if groping +in a dark room, he had suddenly turned on the light, his thought +changed to--_What a girl! Ah, what a wonderful girl! Where is she?_ + +Looking up, Jeff became once more aware of Johnny Dines, leg curled +around the horn of the new saddle, elbow on knee, cheek on hand, +contemplating his poor friend with benevolent pity. And then Jeff knew +that he could make no queries of Johnny Dines. + +Johnny spake soothingly. + +"You are in North America. This is the Twentieth Century. Your name +is Bransford. That round bright object is the sun. This direction is +East. This way is called 'up.' This is a stream of water that you see. +It is called the Rio River Grand Big. We are advertised by our loving +friends. I cannot sing the old songs. There's a reason. Two of a kind +flock together. Never trump your pardner's ace. It's a wise child that +dreads the fire. Wake up! Come out of it! Change cars!" + +"I ought to kill you," said Jeff. "Now giggle, you idiot, and make +everybody hate you!--Wait till I say _Adios_ to my old compadre and the +rest of the Escobar _gente_ and I'll side you to El Paso." + +"Not I. Little Johnny, he'll make San Elizario ferry by noon and Helm's +by dark. Thought maybe so you'd be going along." + +"Why, no," said Jeff uneasily. "I guess maybe I'll go up to El Paso and +june around a spell." + +"Oh, well--just as you say! Such bein' the case, I'll be jogging." + +"Better wait till after dinner--I'll square it with Don Francisco +if ... anything's missing." + +"No--that makes too long a jaunt for this afternoon. Me for San +Elizario. So long!" + +But beyond the first _acequia_ he turned and rode back. + +"Funny thing, Jeff! Remember me telling you about a girl I saw on +Mayhill, the day Nigger Babe throwed you off? Now, what was that girl's +name?--I've forgotten again. Oh, yes!--Hoffman--Miss Ellinor Hoffman. +Well--she's at Arcadia still. The mother lady was all for going back to +New York--but, no, sir! Girl says she's twenty-one, likes Arcadia, and +she's going to stay a spell. Leastwise, so I hear." + +"I _will_ kill you!" said Jeff. "Here, wait till I saddle my nag and +say good-by." + + * * * * * + +Beyond San Elizario, as they climbed the Pass of All the Winds, the two +friends halted to breathe their horses. + +"Jeff," said Johnny, rather soberly, "you can kick me after I say my +little piece--I'll think poorly of you if you don't--but ain't you +making maybe a mistake? That girl, now--nice girl, and all that--but +that girl's got money, Jeff." + +"I hate a fool worse than a knave, any day in the week," said Jeff: +"and the man that would let money keep him from the only girl--why, +Johnny, he's so much more of a fool than the other fellow is a +scoundrel----" + +"I get you!" said Johnny. "You mean that a submarine boat is better +built for roping steers than a mogul engine is skilful at painting +steeples, and you wonder if you can't get a fresh horse somewhere and +go on through to Arcadia to-night?" + +"Something like that," admitted Jeff. "Besides," he added lightly, +"while I'd like that girl just as well if I didn't have a cent--why, as +it happens, I'm pretty well fixed, myself. I've got money to throw at +the little dicky-birds--all kinds of money. Got a fifty-one-per-cent +interest in a copper mine over in Harqua Hala that's been payin' me all +the way from ten to five thousand clear per each and every year for the +last seven years, besides what I pay a lad for lookout to keep anybody +but himself from stealing any of it. He's been buyin' real estate for +me in Los Angeles lately." + +Johnny's jaw dropped in unaffected amazement. + +"All this while? Before you and Leo hit Rainbow?" + +"Sure!" said Jeff. + +"And you workin' for forty a month and stealin' your own beef?--then +saving up and buying your little old brand along with Beebe and Leo and +old Wes', joggin' along, workin' like a yaller dog with fleas?" + +"Why not? Wasn't I having a heap of fun? Where can I see any better +time than I had here, or find better friends? Money's no good by +itself. I haven't drawn a dollar from Arizona since I left. It was fun +to make the mine go round at first; but when it got so it'd work I +looked for something else more amusing." + +"I should think you'd want to travel, anyhow." + +"Travel?" echoed Jeff. "Travel? Why, you damn fool, I'm here now!" + +"Will you stay here, if you marry her, Jeff?" + +"So you've no objection to make, if I've got a few dollars? That +squares everything all right, does it? Not a yeep of protest from +you now? See here, you everlasting fool! I'm just the same man I was +fifteen minutes ago when you thought I didn't have any money. If I'm +fit for her now, I was then. If I wasn't good enough then, I'm not good +enough now." + +"But I wasn't thinking of her--I was thinking of--how it would look." + +"Look? Who cares how it looks? Just a silly prejudice! 'They say--what +say they--let them say!' Johnny, maybe I was just stringin' you. If I +was lying about the money--how about it then? Changed your mind again?" + +"You wasn't lyin', was you?" + +"Shan't tell you! It doesn't really make any difference, anyhow." + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + AT THE RAINBOW'S END + + "Helen's lips are drifting dust; + Ilion is consumed with rust; + All the galleons of Greece + Drink the ocean's dreamless peace; + Lost was Solomon's purple show + Restless centuries ago; + Stately empires wax and wane-- + Babylon, Barbary and Spain-- + Only one thing, undefaced, + Lasts, though all the worlds lie waste + And the heavens are overturned, + --Dear, how long ago we learned!" + + --FREDERICK LAWRENCE KNOWLES. + + +Starlit and moonlight leagues, the slow, fresh dawn; in the cool of +the morning, Bransford came to the crest of the ground-swell known as +Frenchman's Ridge, and saw low-lying Arcadia dim against the north, a +toy town huddling close to the shelter of Rainbow Range; he splashed +through the shallow waters of Alamo, failing to a trickle before it +sank in the desert sands; and so came at last to the moat of Arcadia. +With what joyous and eager-choking heart-beat you may well guess: not +the needlessness of those swift pulses or of that joy. For Ellinor was +not there. With Mrs. Hoffman, she had gone to visit the Sutherlands at +Rainbow's End. And Jeff could not go on. Arcadia rose to greet him in +impromptu Roman holiday. + +Poor Bransford has never known clearly what chanced on that awful day. +There is a jumbled, whirling memory of endless kaleidoscopic troops of +joyful Arcadians: Billy White, Monte, Jimmy, Clarke, the grim-smiling +sheriff, the judge. It was dimly borne upon him by due or both of the +two last, that there were yet certain formalities to be observed in the +matter of his escape from custody of the Law and of the horse he had +borrowed from the court house square. Indeed, it seemed to Jeff, in a +hazy afterthought, that perhaps the sheriff had arrested him again. If +so, it had slipped Jeff's mind, swallowed up in a gruesome horror of +congratulations, hand-shakings, back-slappings, badinage and questions; +heaped on a hero heartsick, dazed and dumb. Pleading weariness, he tore +himself away at last, almost by violence, and flung himself down in a +darkened bedroom of the Arcadian Atalanta. + +One thing was clear. Headlight was there, Aforesaid Smith, Madison: +but his nearest friends, Pringle, Beebe and Ballinger, though they had +hasted back to Arcadia to fight Jeff's battles, were ostentatiously +absent from his hollow and hateful triumph: Johnny Dines had pointedly +refused to share his night ride from Helm's: and Jeff knew why, sadly +enough. The gods take pay for the goods they give: and now that goodly +fellowship was broken. The thought clung fast: it haunted his tossing +and troubled slumbers, where Ellinor came through a sunset glow, +swift-footed to meet him: where his friends rode slow and silent into +the glimmering dusk, smaller and smaller, black against the sky. + + * * * * * + +The Sutherland place made an outer corner of Rainbow's End, bowered +about by a double row of close and interlaced cottonwoods on two sides, +by vigorous orchards on the other two. + +The house had once been a one-storied adobe, heroically proportioned, +thick-walled, cool against summer, warm in what went by the name +of winter. The old-time princely hospitality was unchanged, but +Sutherland had bought lots in Arcadia of early days; and now, the +old gray walls of the house were smooth with creamy stucco, wrought +of gypsum from the White Sands; the windows were widened and there +was a superimposed story, overhanging, wide and low. The gables were +double-windowed, shingled and stained nut-brown, the gently sloping +roof shingled, dormered and soft green: the overflow projecting to +broad verandas on either side, very like an umbrella: a bungalow with +two birthdays--1866:1896. + +Miss Ellinor Hoffman had deserted veranda, rocking-chair and hammock. +With a sewing basket beside her, she sat on a pine bench under a +cottonwood of 1867, ostensibly basting together a kimono tinted like +a dripping sea shell, and faced with peach-blossom. . The work went +slowly. Her seat was at the desert corner of the homestead which was +itself the desert outpost of a desert town: and her blood stirred to +these splendid horizons. The mysterious desert scoffed and questioned, +drew her with promise of strange joys and strange griefs. The iron-hard +mountains beckoned and challenged from afar, wove her their spells of +wavering lights and shadows; the misty warp and woof of them shifting +to swift fantastic hues of trembling rose and blue and violet, +half-veiling, half-revealing, steeps unguessed and dreamed-of sheltered +valleys--and all the myriad-voice of moaning waste and world-rimming +hill cried "Come!" + +Faint, fitful undertone of drowsy chords, far pealing of elfin bells; +that was pulsing of busy _acequias_, tinkling of mimic waterfalls. The +clean breath of the desert crooned by, bearing a grateful fragrance +of apple-blossoms near; it rippled the deepest green of alfalfa to +undulating sheen of purple and flashing gold. + +The broad fields were dwarfed to play-garden prettiness by the vastness +of overwhelming desert, to right, to left, before; whose nearer +blotches of black and gray and brown faded, far off, to a nameless +shimmer, its silent leagues dwindling to immeasurable blur, merging +indistinguishable in the burning sunset. + +"East by up," overguarding the oasis, the colossal bulk of Rainbow +walled out the world with grim-tiered cliffs, cleft only by the +deep-gashed gates of Rainbow Pass, where the swift river broke through +to the rich fields of Rainbow's End, bringing fulfilment of the fabled +pot of gold--or, unused, to shrink and fail and die in the thirsty sand. + +Below, the whilom channel wandered forlorn--Rainbow no longer, but Lost +River--to a disconsolate delta, waterless save as infrequent floods +found turbulent way to the Sink, when wild horse and antelope revisited +their old haunts for the tender green luxury of these brief, belated +springs. + +Incidentally, Miss Hoffman's outpost commanded a good view of Arcadia +road, winding white through the black tar-brush. Had she looked, +she might have seen a slow horseman, tiny on the bare plain below +the tar-brush, larger as he climbed the gentle slope along that +white-winding road. + +But she bent industrious to her work, smiling to herself, half-singing, +half-humming a foolish and lilty little tune: + + "A tisket, a tasket--a green and yellow basket; + I wrote a letter to my love and on the road I lost it-- + I crissed it, I crossed it--I locked it in a casket; + I missed it, I lost it----" + +And here Miss Hoffman did an unaccountable thing. Wise Penelope +unraveled by night the work she wove by day. Like her in this, Miss +Ellinor Hoffman now placidly snipped and ripped the basting threads, +unraveled them patiently, and set to work afresh. + + "Now, there's no such thing as a Ginko tree; + There never was--though there ought to be. + And 'tis also true, though most absurd, + There's no such thing as a Wallabye bird!" + +Miss Hoffman was all in white, with a white middy blouse trimmed in +scarlet, a scarlet ribbon in her dark hair: a fine-linked gold chain +showed at her neck. A very pretty picture she made, cool and fresh +against the deep shade and the green--but of course she did not know +it. She held the shaping kimono at arm's length, admiring the delicate +color, and fell to work again. + + "Oh, the jolly miller, he lives by himself! + As the wheel rolls around he gathers in his pelf, + A hand in the hopper and another in the bag-- + As the wheel rolls around he calls out, '_Grab!_'" + +So intent and preoccupied was she, that she did not hear the +approaching horse. + +"Good evening!" + +"Oh!" Miss Hoffman jumped, dropping the long-suffering kimono. A +horseman, with bared head, had reined up in the shaded road alongside. +"How silly of me not to hear you coming! If you're looking for Mr. +Sutherland, he's not here--Mr. David Sutherland, that is. But Mr. Henry +Sutherland is here--or was awhile ago--maybe half an hour since. He was +trying to get up a set of tennis. Perhaps they're playing--over there +on the other side of the house. And yet, if they were there, we'd hear +them laughing--don't you think?" + +Mr. Bransford--for it was Mr. Bransford, and he was all dressed in +clothes--waited with extreme patience for the conclusion of these +feverish and hurried remarks. + +"But I'm not looking for Sutherland. I'm looking for you!" + +"Oh!" said Ellinor again. Then, after a long and deliberate survey, +the light of recognition dawned slowly in her eyes. "Oh, I _do_ know +you, don't I? To be sure I do! You're Mr. ---- the gentleman I met on +Rainbow Mountain, near Mayhill,--Mr.--ah yes--Bransford!" + +"Why, so I am!" said Jeff, leaning on the saddle-horn. One half of Mr. +Bransford wondered if he had not been making a fool of himself and +taking a great deal for granted: the other half, though considerably +alarmed, was not at all deceived. + +Miss Ellinor did not actually put her finger in the corner of her +mouth--she merely looked as if she had. "Ah!--Won't you ... get down?" +she said helplessly. "What a beautiful horse!" + +"Why, yes--thank you--I believe I will." + +He left the beautiful horse to stand with dangling reins, and came over +to the bench, silent and rather grim. + +"Won't you sit down?" said Ellinor politely. "Fine day, isn't it?" + +"It's a wonderful day--a marvelous day--a stupendous day!" said this +exasperated young man. "No, I guess it's not worth while to sit down. I +just wanted to find out where you lived. I asked you once before, you +know, and you didn't tell me." + +"Didn't I? Oh, do sit down! You look so grumpy--tired, I mean." Rather +grudgingly, she swept the sewing basket from the bench to the grass. + +Jeff's eyes followed the action. He saw--if you call it seeing--the +snipped threads on the grass, the yet unpicked bastings, white against +the peach-pink facing; but he was a mere man, hardly-circumstanced, and +these eloquent tidings were wasted upon his clumsy intellect: as had +been the surprising good fortune of finding Miss Ellinor exactly where +she was. + +Nerving himself with memory of the Quaker Lady at the masquerade--if, +indeed, that had ever really happened--Jeff took the offered seat. + +The young lady matched two edges together, smoothed them, eyed the +result critically, and plied a nimble needle. Then she turned clear and +guileless eyes on her glooming seatmate. + +"You look older, somehow, than I thought you were, now that I +remember," she observed, biting the thread. "You've been away, haven't +you?" + +"Thought you were going away, yourself, so wild and fierce?" said Jeff, +evading.--_Been away, indeed!_ + +Ellinor threaded her needle. + +"Mamma _was_ talking of going for a while," she said tranquilly. "But +I'm rather glad we didn't. We're having a splendid time here--and Mr. +White's going to take us to the White Sands next week. He'll be down +to-morrow--at least I think so. He's fine! He took us to Mescalero +early in the spring. And the young people here at Rainbow's End are +simply delightful. You must meet some of them. Listen! There they +are now--I hear them. They _are_ playing tennis. Come on up and I'll +introduce you. I can finish this thing any time." She tossed the poor +kimono into the basket. + +"No," said this unhappy young man, rising. "I believe I'll go on back. +Good-by, Miss Ell--Miss Hoffman. I wish you much happiness!" + +"Why--surely you're not going now? There are some nice girls here--they +have heard so much of you, but they say they've never met you. Don't +you want----" + +Jeff groaned, fumbling blindly at the bridle. "No, I wish I'd never +seen a girl!" + +"Why-y! That's not very polite, is it?----Are--are you--mad to me?" +said Ellinor in a meek little voice. + +"Mad? No," said Jeff bitterly. "I'm just coming to my senses. I've been +dreaming. Now I've woke up!" + +"Angry, I mean, of course. I just say it that way--'are you mad to +me'--sometimes--to be--to be--nice, Mr. Bransford!" + +"You needn't bother! Good-by!" + +"But I'll see you again----" + +"_Never!_" + +"----when you're not so--cross?" + +Jeff reached for his stirrup. + +"Oh, well! If you're going to be huffy!. Never it is, then, by all +means! No--wait! I must give you back your present." + +"I have never given you a present. Some other man, doubtless. You +should keep a list!" said Jeff, with bitter and cutting scorn. + +The girl turned half away from him and hid her face with trembling +hands; her shoulders shook with emotion. + +"Look the other way, sir! Turn your head! You shall have your present +back and then if you're so anxious to go--Go!" + +"Miss Hoffman, I never gave you a present in my life," Jeff protested. + +"You did!" sobbed Ellinor. She turned upon him, stamping her foot. "You +said, when you gave it to me, that you hoped it would bring me good +luck. And you've forgotten! _You'd_ better keep a list! Turn your head +away, I tell you!" She sank down on the bench. + +Confused, mazed, bewildered, Jeff obeyed her. + +She sprang to her feet. She was laughing, blushing, glowing. In her +hand was the little gold chain. + +"Now, you may look. Hold out your hand, sir!" + +Jeff's mind was whirling; he held out his hand. She laid a little gold +locket in his palm. It was warm, that little locket. + +"I have never seen this locket before in my life!" gasped Jeff. + +"Open it!" + +He opened it. The little eohippus glared up at him. + +"Ellinor!--_Charley Gibson!_" + +"Tobe! Jeff!--_Jamie!_" + +The little eohippus stared unwinking from the grass. + + +THE BEGINNING + + + * * * * * + +_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_ + +GOOD MEN AND TRUE + +_Illustrated._ + + +The story of a brave and humorous American of to-day in deadly peril on +our Texan frontier. + + "Ingeniously constructed, so clever, so full of genuine + humor."--_New York Tribune._ + + "As genuine a comedy of bloodshed as the literature of American + manners can furnish."--_Living Age._ + + "Very near to being a model of what such a story should be. About + as good as it could be made."--_Springfield Republican._ + + "Abounds in real humor and has a touch that is unmistakably + Stevensonian."--_Philadelphia Press._ + + + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + PUBLISHERS NEW YORK + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78657 *** |