CHAPTER 6. BUCKY MAKES A DISCOVERY
For a week Bucky had been in the little border town of Noches, calledthere by threats of a race war between the whites and the Mexicans.Having put the quietus on this, he was returning to Epitaph by way ofthe Huachuca Mountains. There are still places in Arizona where rapidtransit can be achieved more expeditiously on the back of a bronco thanby means of the railroad, even when the latter is available. So nowBucky was taking a short cut across country instead of making the twotrain changes, with the consequent inevitable delays that would havebeen necessary to travel by rail.
He traveled at night and in the early morning, to avoid the heat of themidday sun, and it was in the evening of the second and last day thatthe skirts of happy chance led him to an adventure that was to affecthis whole future life. He knew a waterhole on the Del Oro, where cowswere wont to frequent even in the summer drought, and toward this he wasmaking in the fag-end of the sultry day. While still some hundred yardsdistant he observed a spiral of smoke rising from a camp-fire at thespring, and he at once made a more circumspect approach. For it might beany one of a score of border ruffians who owed him a grudge and would beglad to pay it in the silent desert that tells no tales and betrays nosecrets to the inquisitive.
He flung the bridle-rein over his pony's neck and crept forward on foot,warily and noiselessly. While still some little way from the water-holehe was arrested by a sound that startled him. He could make out araucous voice in anger and a pianissimo accompaniment of womanish sobs.
"You're mine to do with as I like. I'm your uncle. I've raised youfrom a kid, and, by the great mogul! you can't sneak off with the firstgood-for nothing scoundrel that makes eyes at you. Thought you hadslipped away from me, you white-faced, sniveling little idiot, but I'llshow you who is master."
The lash of a whip rose and fell twice on quivering flesh before Buckyleaped into the fireglow and wrested the riding-whip from the hands ofthe angry man who was plying it.
"Dare to touch a woman, would you?" cried the ranger, swinging thewhip vigorously across the broad shoulders of the man. "Take that--andthat--and that, you brute!"
But when Bucky had finished with the fellow and flung him a limp,writhing huddle of welts to the ground, three surprises awaited him. Thefirst was that it was not a woman he had rescued at all, but a boy, and,as the flickering firelight played on his face, the ranger came to anunexpected recognition. The slim lad facing him was no other than FrankHardman, whom he had left a few days before at the Rocking Chair underthe care of motherly Mrs. Mackenzie. The young man's eyes went back withinstant suspicion to the fellow he had just punished, and his suspicionswere verified when the leaping light revealed the face of the showmanAnderson.
Bucky laughed. "I ce'tainly seem to be interfering in your affairs agood deal, Mr. Anderson. You may take my word for it that you was thelast person in the world I expected to meet here, unless it might bethis boy. I left him safe at a ranch fifty miles from here, and I leftyou a staid business man of Epitaph. But it seems neither of you stayedhitched. Why for this yearning to travel?"
"He found me where I was staying. I was out riding alone on an errandfor Mrs. Mackenzie when he met me and made me go with him. He hasarranged to have me meet his wife in Mexico. The show wouldn't draw wellwithout me. You know I do legerdemain," Frank explained, in his low,sweet voice.
"So you had plans of your own, Mr. Anderson. Now, that was rightambitious of you. But I reckon I'll have to interfere with them again.Go through him, kid, and relieve him of any guns he happens to begarnished with. Might as well help yourself to his knives, too. He's sofond of letting them fly around promiscuous he might hurt himself. Good.Now we can sit down and have a friendly talk. Where did you say you wasintending to spend the next few weeks before I interrupted so unthinkingand disarranged your plans? I'm talking to you, Mr. Anderson."
"I was heading for Sonora," the man whined.
What Bucky thought was: "Right strange direction to be taking forSonora. I'll bet my pile you were going up into the hills to meet someof Wolf Leroy's gang. But why you were taking the kid along beats me,unless it was just cussedness." What he said was:
"Oh, you'll like Epitaph a heap better. I allow you ought to stay atthat old town. It's a real interesting place. Finished in the adobestyle and that sort of thing. The jail's real comfy, too."
"Would you like something to eat, sir?" presently asked Frank timidly.
"Would I? Why, I'm hungry enough to eat a leather mail-sack. Trot onyour grub, young man, and watch my smoke."
Bucky did ample justice to the sandwiches and lemonade the lad set infront of him, but he ate with a wary eye on a possible insurrection onthe part of his prisoner.
"I'm a new man," he announced briskly, when he had finished. "That vealloaf sandwich went sure to the right spot. If you had been a young ladyinstead of a boy you couldn't fix things up more appetizing."
The lad's face flushed with embarrassment, apparently at the ranger'scompliment, and the latter, noticed how delicate the small face was. Itmade an instinctive, wistful appeal for protection, and Bucky felt anodd little stirring at his tender Irish heart.
"Might think I was the kid's father to see what an interest I take inhim," the young man told himself reprovingly. "It's all tommyrot, too.A boy had ought to have more grit. I expect he needed that licking allright I saved him from."
When Bucky had eaten, the camp things were repacked for travel. Epitaphwas only twenty-three miles away, and the ranger preferred to ridein the cool of the night rather than sit up till daybreak with hisprisoner. Besides, he could then catch the morning train from that townand save almost a day.
So hour after hour they plodded on, the prisoner in front, O'Connor inthe center, and Frank Hardman bringing up the rear. It was an Arizonanight of countless stars, with that peculiar soft, velvety atmospherethat belongs to no other land or time. In the distance the jagged,violet line of mountains rose in silhouette against a sky not manyshades lighter, while nearer the cool moonlight flooded a land grownmagical under its divine touch.
The ranger rode with a limp ease that made for rest, his body shiftingnow and again in the saddle, so as to change the weight and avoidstiffness.
It must have been well past midnight that he caught the long breath ofa sigh behind him. The trail had broadened at that point, for they werenow down in the rolling plain, so that two could ride abreast in theroad. Bucky fell back and put a sympathetic hand on the shoulder of theboy.
"Plumb fagged out, kid?" he asked.
"I am tired. Is it far?"
"About four miles. Stick it out, and we'll be there in no time."
"Yes, sir."
"Don't call me sir. Call me Bucky."
"Yes, sir."
Bucky laughed. "You're ce'tainly the queerest kid I've run up against.I guess you didn't scramble up in this rough-and-tumble West like I did.You're too soft for this country." He let his firm brown fingers travelover the lad's curly hair and down the smooth cheek. "There it is again.Shrinking away as if I was going to hurt you. I'll bet a biscuit younever licked the stuffing out of another fellow in your life."
"No, sir," murmured the youth, and Bucky almost thought he detected alittle, chuckling laugh.
"Well, you ought to be ashamed of it. When come back from old Mexico I'mgoing to teach you how to put up your dukes. You're going to ride therange with me, son, and learn to stick to your saddle when the bronc andyou disagrees. Oh, I'll bet all you need is training. I'll make a manout of you yet," the ranger assured his charge cheerfully. "Will you?"came the innocent reply, but Bucky for a moment had the sense of beinglaughed at.
"Yes, I 'will you,' sissy," he retorted, without the least exasperation."Don't think you know it all. Right now you're riding like a wooden man.You want to take it easy in the saddle. There's about a dozen differentpositions you can take to rest yourself." And Bucky put him through acourse of sprouts. "Don't sit there laughing at folks that knows a heapmore than you ever will get in your n
oodle, and perhaps you won't be sodone up at the end of a little jaunt like this," he concluded. And tohis conclusion he presently added a postscript: "Why, I know kids yourage can ride day and night for a week on the round-up without being allin. How old are you, son?"
"Eighteen."
"That's a lie," retorted the ranger, with immediate frankness. "You'renot a day over fifteen, I'll bet."
"I meant to say fifteen," meekly corrected the youth.
"That's another of them. You meant to say eighteen, but you found Iwouldn't swallow it. Now, Master Frank, you want to learn one thingprompt if you and I are to travel together. I can't stand a liar. Youtell the truth, or I'll give you the best licking you ever had in yourlife."
"You're as bad a bully as he is," the boy burst out, flushing angrily.
"Oh, no, I'm not," came the ranger's prompt unmoved answer. "But justbecause you're such a weak little kid that I could break you in twoisn't any reason why I should put up with any foolishness from you.I mean to see that you act proper, the way an honest kid ought to do.Savvy?"
"I'd like to know who made you my master?" demanded the boy hotly.
"You've ce'tainly been good and spoiled, but you needn't ride your highhawss with me. Here's the long and the short of it. To tell lies ain'tsquare. If I ask you anything you don't want to answer tell me to go tohell, but don't lie to me. If you do I'll punish you the same as if youwere my brother, so long as you trail with me. If you don't like it, cutloose and hit the pike for yourself."
"I've a good mind to go."
Bucky waved a hand easily into space. "That's all right, too, son.There's a heap of directions you can hit from here. Take any one youlike. But if I was as beat as you are, I think I'd keep on the Epitaphroad." He laughed his warm, friendly laugh, before the geniality ofwhich discord seemed to melt, and again his arm went round the other'sweary shoulders with a caressing gesture that was infinitely protecting.
The boy laughed tremulously. "You're awfully good to me. I know I'm acry-baby, sissy boy, but if you'll be patient with me I'll try to begamer."
It certainly was strange the way Bucky's pulse quickened and his bloodtingled when he touched the little fellow and heard that velvetvoice's soft murmur. Yes, it surely was strange, but perhaps the youngIrishman's explanation was not the correct one, after all. The cause heoffered to himself for this odd joy and tender excitement was perfectlysimple.
"I'm surely plumb locoed, or else gone soft in the haid," he toldhimself grimly.
But the reason for those queer little electric shocks that pulsedthrough him was probably a more elemental and primeval one than evenmadness.
Arrived at Epitaph, Bucky turned loose his prisoner with a caution andmade his preparations to leave immediately for Chihuahua. Collins hadreturned to Tucson, but was in touch with the situation and ready to setout for any point where he was needed.
Bucky, having packed, was confronted with a difficulty. He looked at it,and voiced his perplexity.
"Now, what am I going to do with you, Curly Haid? I expect I had bettership you back to the Rocking Chair."
"I don't want to go back there. He'll come out again and find me afteryou leave."
"Where do you want to go, then? If you were a girl I could put you inthe convent school here," he reflected aloud.
Again that swift, deep blush irradiated the youth's cheeks. "Why can't Igo with you?" he asked shyly.
The ranger laughed. "Mebbe you think I'm going on a picnic. Why, I'mstarting out to knock the chip off Old Man Trouble's shoulder. Like asnot some greaser will collect Mr. Bucky's scalp down in manyana land.No, sir, this doesn't threaten to be a Y. P. S. C. E. excursion."
"If it is so dangerous as that, you will need help. I'm awful good atmaking up, and I can speak Spanish like a native."
"Sho! You don't want to go running your neck into a noose. It's ajail-break I'm planning, son. There may be guns a-popping before weget back to God's country--if we ever do. Add to that, trouble and thensome, for there's a revolution scheduled for old Chihuahua just now, asyour uncle happens to know from reliable information."
"Two can always work better than one. Try me, Bucky," pleaded the boy,the last word slipping out with a trailing upward inflection that wasirresistible.
"Sure you won't faint if we get in a tight pinch, Curly?" scoffedO'Connor, even though in his mind he was debating a surrender. For hewas extraordinarily taken with the lad, and his judgment justified whatthe boy had said.
"I shall not be afraid if you are with me."
"But I may not be with you. That's the trouble. Supposing I should becaught, what would you do?"
"Follow any orders you had given me before that time. If you had notgiven any, I would use my best judgment."
"I'll give them now," smiled Bucky. "If I'm lagged, make straight forArizona and tell Webb Mackenzie or Val Collins."
"Then you will take me?" cried the boy eagerly.
"Only on condition that you obey orders explicitly. I'm running thiscutting-out expedition."
"I wouldn't think of disobeying."
"And I don't want you to tell me any lies."
"No."
Bucky's big brown fist caught the little one and squeezed it. "Then it'sa deal, kid. I only hope I'm doing right to take you."
"Of course you are. Haven't you promised to make a man of me?" And againBucky caught that note of stifled laughter in the voice, though the bigbrown eyes met his quite seriously.
They took the train that night for El Paso, Bucky in the lower berth andhis friend in the upper of section six of one of the Limited's Pullmancars. The ranger was awake and up with the day. For a couple of hourshe sat in the smoking section and discussed politics with a Chicagodrummer. He knew that Frank was very tired, and he let him sleep tillthe diner was taken on at Lordsburg. Then he excused himself to thetraveling man.
"I reckon I better go and wake up my pardner. I see the chuck-wagon istoddling along behind us."
Bucky drew aside the curtains and shook the boy gently by the shoulder.Frank's eyes opened and looked at the ranger with that lack ofcomprehension peculiar to one roused suddenly from deep sleep.
"Time to get up, Curly. The nigger just gave the first call for thechuck-wagon."
An understanding of the situation flamed over the boy's face. Hesnatched the curtains from the Arizonian and gathered them tightlytogether. "I'll thank you not to be so familiar," he said shortly frombehind the closed curtains.
"I beg your pahdon, your royal highness. I should have had myselfannounced and craved an audience, I reckon," was Bucky's ironic retort;and swiftly on the heels of it he added. "You make me tired, kid."
O'Connor was destined to be "made tired" a good many times in thecourse of the next few days. In all the little personal intimaciesFrank possessed a delicate fastidiousness outside the experience of theranger. He was a scrupulously clean man himself, and rather nice asto his personal habits, but it did not throw him into a flame ofembarrassment to brush his teeth before his fellow passengers. Nor didit send him into a fit if a friend happened to drop into his room whilehe was finishing his dressing. Bucky agreed with himself that thisexcess of shyness was foolishness, and that to indulge the boy wasmerely to lay up future trouble for him. A dozen times he was on thepoint of speaking his mind on the subject, but some unusual quality ofinnocence in the lad tied his tongue.
"Blame it all, I'm getting to be a regular old granny. What Master Frankneeds is a first-class dressing-down, and here the little cuss has gotme bluffed to a fare-you-well so that I'm mum as a hooter on the nest,"he admitted to himself ruefully. "Just when something comes up thatneeds a good round damn I catch that big brown Sunday school eye of his,and it's Bucky back to Webster's unabridged. I've got to quit trailingwith him, or I'll be joining the church first thing I know. He makes mefeel like I want to be good, confound the little swindle."
Notwithstanding the ranger's occasional moments of exasperation, the twogot along swimmingly. Each of them found a continued plea
sure in delvinginto the other's unexplored mental recesses. They drifted into one ofthose quick, spontaneous likings that are rare between man and man. Somesubtle quality of affection bubbled up like a spring in the hearts ofeach for the other. Young Hardman could perhaps have explained what layat the roots of it, but O'Connor admitted that he was "buffaloed" whenhe attempted an analysis of his unusual feeling.
From El Paso a leisurely run on the Mexican Central Pacific took them toChihuahua, a quaint old city something about the size of El Paso. BothBucky and his friend were familiar with the manners of the country, sothat they felt at home among the narrow adobe streets, the lounging,good-natured peons, and the imitation Moorish architecture. They foundrooms at a quiet, inconspicuous hotel, and began making their plans foran immediate departure in the event that they succeeded in their object.
At a distance it had seemed an easy thing to plan the escape of DavidHenderson and to accomplish it by craft, but a sight of the heavy stonewalls that encircled the prison and of the numerous armed guards whopaced to and fro on the walls, put a more chilling aspect on theirchances.
"It isn't a very gay outlook," Bucky admitted cheerfully to hiscompanion, "but I expect we can pull it off somehow. If these Mexicanofficials weren't slower than molasses in January it might have beenbetter to wait and have him released by process of law on account ofHardman's confession. But it would take them two or three years to cometo a decision. They sure do hate to turn loose a gringo when they havegot the hog-tie on him. Like as not they would decide against him at thelast, then. Course I've got the law machinery grinding, too, but I'm notbanking on it real heavy. We'll get him out first any old way, then getthe government to O. K. the thing."
"How were you thinking of proceeding?"
"I expect it's time to let you in on the ground floor, son. I reckon youhappen to know that down in these Spanish countries there's usually arevolution hatching. There s two parties among the aristocrats, thosefor the government and those ferninst. The 'ins' stand pat, but the'outs' have always got a revolution up their sleeves. Now, there'smostly a white man mixed up in the affair. They have to have him to runit and to shoot afterward when the government wins. You see, somebodyhas to be shot, and it's always so much to the good if they can lineup gringoes instead of natives. Nine times out of ten it's anIrish-American lad that is engineering the scheme. This time it happensto be Mickey O'Halloran, an old friend of mine. I'm going to put it upto Mick to find a way."
"But it isn't any affair of his. He won't do it, will he?"
"Oh, I thought I told you he was Irish."
"Well?"
"And spoiling for trouble, of course. Is it likely he could keep hisfist out of the hive when there's such a gem of a chance to get stung?"
It had been Frank's suggestion that they choose rooms at a hotel whichopen into each other and also connect with an adjoining pair. The reasonfor this had not at first been apparent to the ranger, but as soon asthey were alone Frank explained.
"It is very likely that we shall be under surveillance after a day ortwo, especially if we are seen around the prison a good deal. Well,we'll slip out the back way to-night, disguised in some other rig, comeboldly in by the front door, and rent the rooms next ours. Then we shallbe able to go and come, either as ourselves or as our neighbors. It willgive us a great deal more liberty."
"Unless we should get caught. Then we would have a great deal less.What's your notion of a rig-up to disguise us, kid?"
"We might have several, in case of emergencies. For one thing, wecould easily be street showmen. You can do fancy shooting and I can dosleight-of-hand tricks or tell fortunes."
"You would be a gipsy lad?"
The youngster blushed. "A gipsy girl, and you might be my husband."
"I'm no play actor, even if you are," said Bucky. "I don't want to beyour husband, thank you."
"All you would have to do is to be sullen and rough. It is easy enough."
"And you think you could pass for a girl? You're slim and soft enough,but I'll bet you would give it away inside of an hour."
The boy laughed, and shot a swift glance at O'Connor under his longlashes. "I appeared as a girl in one of the acts of the show for years.Nobody ever suspected that I wasn't."
"We might try it, but we have no clothes for the part."
"Leave that to me. I'll buy some to-day while you are looking the groundover for our first assault an the impregnable fortress."
"I don't know. It seems to me pretty risky. But you might buy thethings, and we'll see how you look in them. Better not get all thethings at the same store. Sort of scatter your purchases around."
They separated at the door of the hotel, Frank to choose the materialshe needed, and O'Connor to look up O'Halloran and get a permit tovisit the prison from the proper authorities. When the latter returnedtriumphantly with his permit he found the boy busy with a needle andthread and surrounded by a litter of dress-making material.
"I'm altering this to fit me and fixing it up," he explained.
"Holy smoke! Who taught you to sew?" asked Bucky, in surprise.
"My aunt, Mrs. Hardman. I used to do all the plain sewing on mycostumes. Did you see your friend and get your permit?"
"You bet I did, and didn't. Mickey was out, but I left him a note.The other thing I pulled off all right. I'm to be allowed to visit theprison and make a careful inspection of it at my leisure There's nothinglike a pull, son."
"Does the permit say you are to be allowed to steal any one of theprisoners you take a fancy to? asked Frank, with a smile.
"No, it forgot to say that. When do you expect to have that toggerymade?"
"A good deal of it is already made, as you see. I'm just making a fewchanges. Do you want to try on your suit?"
"Is THIS mine?" asked the ranger, picking up with smiling contempt therather gaudy blouse that lay on a chair.
"Yes, sir, that is yours. Go and put it on and we'll see how it fits."
Bucky returned a few minutes later in his gipsy uniform, with adeprecating grin.
"I'll have to stain your face. Then you'll do very well," said Frank,patting and pulling at the clothes here and there. "It's a good fit, ifI do say it that chose it. The first thing you want to do when you getout in it is to roll in the dust and get it soiled. No respectable gipsywears new clothes. Better have a tear or two in it, too."
"You ce'tainly should have been a girl, the way you take to clothes,Curly."
"Making up was my business for a good many years, you know," returnedthe lad quietly. "If you'll step into the other room for about fifteenminutes I'll show you how well I can do it."
It was a long half-hour later that Bucky thumped on the door betweenthe rooms. "Pretty nearly ready, kid? Seems to me it is taking you athundering long time to get that outfit on."
"How long do you think it ought to take a lady to dress?"
"Ten minutes is long enough, and fifteen, say, if she is going to adance. You've been thirty-five by my Waterbury."
"It's plain you never were married, Mr. Innocent. Why, a girl can't fixher hair in less than half an hour."
"Well, you got a wig there, ain't you? It doesn't take but about fiveseconds to stick that on. Hurry up, gringo! I'm clean through this oldnewspaper."
"Read the advertisements," came saucily through the door.
"I've read the durned things twice."
"Learn them by heart," the sweet voice advised.
"Oh, you go to Halifax!"
Nevertheless, Mr. Bucky had to wait his comrade's pleasure. But when hegot a vision of the result, it was so little what he had expectedthat it left him staring in amazement, his jaw fallen and his eyesincredulous.
The vision swept him a low bow. "How do you like Bonita?" it demandedgaily.
Bucky's eyes circled the room, to make sure that the boy was not hiddensomewhere, and came back to rest on his surprise with a look that wasalmost consternation. Was this vivid, dazzling creature the boy he hadbeen patronizing, lecturing, promisi
ng to thrash any time during thepast four days? The thing was unbelievable, not yet to be credited byhis jarred brain. How incredibly blind he had been! What an idiot ofsorts! Why, the marks of sex sat on her beyond any possibility ofdoubt. Every line of the slim, lissom figure, every curve of the soft,undulating body, the sweep of rounded arm, of tapering waist-line, ofwell-turned ankle, contributed evidence of what it were folly to askfurther proof. How could he have ever seen those lovely, soft-lashedeyes and the delicate little hands without conviction coming home tohim? And how could he have heard the low murmur of her voice, the catchof her sobs, without knowing that they were a denial of masculinity?
She was dressed like a Spanish dancing girl, in short kilts, red sash,and jaunty little cap placed sidewise on her head. She wore a wig ofblack hair, and her face was stained to a dusky, gipsy hue. Over herthumb hung castanets and in her hand was a tambourine. Roguishlyshe began to sway into a slow, rhythmic dance, beating time with herinstruments as she moved. Gradually the speed quickened to a fastertime. She swung gracefully to and fro with all the lithe agility ofthe race she personified. No part could have been better conceived orexecuted. Even physically she displayed the large, brilliant eyes, theringleted, coal-black hair, the tawny skin, and the flashing smile thatshowed small teeth of dazzling ivory, characteristic of the Romanieshe had met. It was a daring part to play, but the young man watchingrealized that she had the free grace to carry it out successfully.She danced the fandango to a finish, swept him another low bow, andpresented laughingly to him the tambourine for his donation. Then,suddenly flinging aside the instrument, she curtsied and caught at hishand.
"Will the senor have his fortune told?"
Bucky drew a handful of change from his pocket and selected a goldeagle. "I suppose I must cross your palm with gold," he said, even whilehis subconscious mind was running on the new complication presented tohim by this discovery.
He was very clear about one thing. He must not let her know that he knewher for a girl. To him she must still be a boy, or their relation wouldbecome impossible. She had trusted in her power to keep her secret fromhim. On no other terms would she have come with him; of so much he wassure, even while his mind groped for a sufficient reason to account foran impulse that might have impelled her. If she found out that he knew,the knowledge would certainly drive her at once from him. For he knewthat not the least charm of the extraordinary fascination she hadfor him lay in her sweet innocence of heart, a fresh innocencethat consisted with this gay Romany abandon, and even with a mentalexperience of the sordid, seamy side of life as comprehensive as that ofmany a woman twice her age. She had been defrauded out of her childishinheritance of innocence, but, somehow, even in her foul environmentthe seeds of a rare personal purity had persistently sprung up andflourished. Some flowers are of such native freshness that no nauseoussurroundings can kill their fragrance. And this was one of them.
Meanwhile, her voice ran on with the patter of her craft. There was theusual dark woman to be circumvented and the light one to be rewarded.Jealousies and rivalries played their part in the nonsense she gliblyrecited, and somewhere in the future lay, of course, great riches andhappiness for him.
With a queer little tug at his heart he watched the dainty fingerthat ran so lightly over his open palm, watched, too, the bent head sogracefully fine of outline and the face so mobile of expression when thedeep eyes lifted to his in question of the correctness of her reading.He would miss the little partner that had wound himself so tightlyround his heart. He wondered if he would find compensating joy in thisexquisite creature whom a few moments had taken worlds distant from him.
Suddenly tiring of her diversion, she dropped his hand. "You don't sayI do it well," she charged, aware suspiciously, at last, of his gravesilence.
"You do it very well indeed. I didn't think you had it in you, kid.What's worrying me is that I can never live up to such a sure enoughgipsy as you."
"All you have to do is to look sour and frown if anybody gets toofamiliar with me. You can do that, can't you?"
"You bet I can," he answered promptly, with unnecessary emphasis.
"And look handsome," she teased.
"Oh, that will be easy for me--since you are going to make me up. As asimple child of nature I'm no ornament to the scenery, but art's a heapimproving sometimes."
She thought, but did not say, that art would go a long way before itcould show anything more pleasing than this rider of the plains. It wasnot alone his face, with the likable blue eyes that could say so manythings in a minute, but the gallant ease of his bearing. Such a springylightness, such sinewy grace of undulating muscle, were rare even onthe frontier. She had once heard Webb Mackenzie say of him that he couldwhip his weight in wildcats, and it was easy of belief after seeing howsurely he was master of the dynamic power in him. It is the emergencythat sifts men, and she had seen him rise to several with a readinessthat showed the stuff in him.
That evening they slipped out unobserved in the dusk, and a few minuteslater a young gipsy and his bride presented themselves at the inn to beput up. The scowling young Romany was particular, considering that hespent most nights in the open, with a sky for a roof. So the master ofthe inn thought when he rejected on one pretense or another the firsttwo rooms that were shown him. He wanted two rooms, and they mustconnect. Had the innkeeper such apartments? The innkeeper had, but hewould very much like to see the price in advance if he was going toturn over to guests of such light baggage the best accommodations in thehouse. This being satisfactorily arranged, the young gipsies were leftto themselves in the room they had rented.
The first thing that the man did when they were alone was to roll acigarette, which operation he finished deftly with one hand, while theother swept a match in a circular motion along his trousers leg. In veryfair English the Spanish gipsy said: "You ce'tainly ought to learn tosmoke, kid. Honest, it's more comfort than a wife."
"How do you know, since you are not married?" she asked archly.
"I been noticing some of my poor unfortunate friends," he grinned.