CHAPTER III
The five impulsive millionaires of Devil's Ford fulfilled not a few oftheir most extravagant promises. In less than six weeks Mr. Carr andhis daughters were installed in a new house, built near the site of thedouble cabin, which was again transferred to the settlement, in orderto give greater seclusion to the fair guests. It was a long, roomy,one-storied villa, with a not unpicturesque combination of deep verandaand trellis work, which relieved the flat monotony of the interior andthe barrenness of the freshly-cleared ground. An upright piano, broughtfrom Sacramento, occupied the corner of the parlor. A suite of gorgeousfurniture, whose pronounced and extravagant glories the young girlsinstinctively hid under home-made linen covers, had also been spoilsfrom afar. Elsewhere the house was filled with ornaments and decorationsthat in their incongruity forcibly recalled the gilded plate-glassmirrors of the bedroom in the old cabin. In the hasty furnishing ofthis Aladdin's palace, the slaves of the ring had evidently seizedupon anything that would add to its glory, without reference always tofitness.
"I wish it didn't look so cussedly like a robber's cave," said GeorgeKearney, when they were taking a quiet preliminary survey of theunclassified treasures, before the Carrs took possession.
"Or a gambling hell," said his brother reflectively.
"It's about the same thing, I reckon," said Dick Mattingly, who wassupposed, in his fiery youth, to have encountered the similarity.
Nevertheless, the two girls managed to bestow the heterogeneouscollection with tasteful adaptation to their needs. A crystalchandelier, which had once lent a fascinating illusion to the game ofMonte, hung unlighted in the broad hall, where a few other bizarre andpublic articles were relegated. A long red sofa or bench, which had doneduty beside a billiard-table found a place here also. Indeed, it is tobe feared that some of the more rustic and bashful youths of Devil'sFord, who had felt it incumbent upon them to pay their respects tothe new-comers, were more at ease in this vestibule than in the arcanabeyond, whose glories they could see through the open door. To others,it represented a recognized state of probation before their re-entreeinto civilization again. "I reckon, if you don't mind, miss," said thespokesman of one party, "ez this is our first call, we'll sorter hangout in the hall yer, until you'r used to us." On another occasion, oneWhiskey Dick, impelled by a sense of duty, paid a visit to the new houseand its fair occupants, in a fashion frankly recounted by him afterwardsat the bar of the Tecumseh Saloon.
"You see, boys, I dropped in there the other night, when some of youfellers was doin' the high-toned 'thankee, marm' business in the parlor.I just came to anchor in the corner of the sofy in the hall, withoutlettin' on to say that I was there, and took up a Webster's dictionarythat was on the table and laid it open--keerless like, on my knees, ezif I was sorter consultin' it--and kinder dozed off there, listenin' toyou fellows gassin' with the young ladies, and that yer Miss Christiejust snakin' music outer that pianner, and I reckon I fell asleep.Anyhow, I was there nigh on to two hours. It's mighty soothin', themfashionable calls; sorter knocks the old camp dust outer a fellow, andsets him up again."
It would have been well if the new life of the Devil's Ford had shownno other irregularity than the harmless eccentricities of its originallocaters. But the news of its sudden fortune, magnified by report, beganpresently to flood the settlement with another class of adventurers.A tide of waifs, strays, and malcontents of old camps along the riverbegan to set towards Devil's Ford, in very much the same fashion as thedebris, drift, and alluvium had been carried down in bygone days andcast upon its banks. A few immigrant wagons, diverted from the highwaysof travel by the fame of the new diggings, halted upon the slopes ofDevil's Spur and on the arid flats of the Ford, and disgorged theirsallow freight of alkali-poisoned, prematurely-aged women and childrenand maimed and fever-stricken men. Against this rude form of domesticitywere opposed the chromo-tinted dresses and extravagant complexions ofa few single unattended women--happily seen more often at night behindgilded bars than in the garish light of day--and an equal number ofpale-faced, dark-moustached, well-dressed, and suspiciously idle men.A dozen rivals of Thompson's Saloon had sprung up along the narrowmain street. There were two new hotels--one a "Temperance House," whoseascetic quality was confined only to the abnegation of whiskey--a rivalstage office, and a small one-storied building, from which the "SierranBanner" fluttered weekly, for "ten dollars a year, in advance."Insufferable in the glare of a Sabbath sun, bleak, windy, and flaring inthe gloom of a Sabbath night, and hopelessly depressing on all days ofthe week, the First Presbyterian Church lifted its blunt steeple fromthe barrenest area of the flats, and was hideous! The civic improvementsso enthusiastically contemplated by the five millionaires in the earlierpages of this veracious chronicle--the fountain, reservoir, town-hall,and free library--had not yet been erected. Their sites had beenanticipated by more urgent buildings and mining works, unfortunatelynot considered in the sanguine dreams of the enthusiasts, and, moresignificant still, their cost and expense had been also anticipated bythe enormous outlay of their earnings in the work upon Devil's Ditch.
Nevertheless, the liberal fulfilment of their promise in the new housein the suburbs blinded the young girls' eyes to their shortcomings inthe town. Their own remoteness and elevation above its feverish lifekept them from the knowledge of much that was strange, and perhapsdisturbing to their equanimity. As they did not mix with the immigrantwomen--Miss Jessie's good-natured intrusion into one of theirhalf-nomadic camps one day having been met with rudeness andsuspicion--they gradually fell into the way of trusting theresponsibility of new acquaintances to the hands of their originalhosts, and of consulting them in the matter of local recreation. It thusoccurred that one day the two girls, on their way to the main street foran hour's shopping at the Villa de Paris and Variety Store, were stoppedby Dick Mattingly a few yards from their house, with the remark that, asthe county election was then in progress, it would be advisable forthem to defer their intention for a few hours. As he did not deem itnecessary to add that two citizens, in the exercise of a freeman'sfranchise, had been supplementing their ballots with bullets, in frontof an admiring crowd, they knew nothing of that accident that removedfrom Devil's Ford an entertaining stranger, who had only the nightbefore partaken of their hospitality.
A week or two later, returning one morning from a stroll in the forest,Christie and Jessie were waylaid by George Kearney and Fairfax, and,under pretext of being shown a new and romantic trail, were divertedfrom the regular path. This enabled Mattingly and Maryland Joe to cutdown the body of a man hanged by the Vigilance Committee a few hoursbefore on the regular trail, and to remonstrate with the committeeon the incompatibility of such exhibitions with a maidenly worship ofnature.
"With the whole county to hang a man in," expostulated Joe, "you mightkeep clear of Carr's woods."
It is needless to add that the young girls never knew of this act ofviolence, or the delicacy that kept them in ignorance of it. Mr. Carrwas too absorbed in business to give heed to what he looked upon asa convulsion of society as natural as a geological upheaval, and tooprudent to provoke the criticism of his daughters by comment in theirpresence.
An equally unexpected confidence, however, took its place. Mr. Carrhaving finished his coffee one morning, lingered a moment over hisperfunctory paternal embraces, with the awkwardness of a preoccupiedman endeavoring by the assumption of a lighter interest to veil anotherabstraction.
"And what are we doing to-day, Christie?" he asked, as Jessie left thedining-room.
"Oh, pretty much the usual thing--nothing in particular. If GeorgeKearney gets the horses from the summit, we're going to ride over toIndian Spring to picnic. Fairfax--Mr. Munroe--I always forget that man'sreal name in this dreadfully familiar country--well, he's coming toescort us, and take me, I suppose--that is, if Kearney takes Jessie."
"A very nice arrangement," returned her father, with a slight nervouscontraction of the corners of his mouth and eyelids to indicatemischievousness. "I've no do
ubt they'll both be here. You know theyusually are--ha! ha! And what about the two Mattinglys and PhilipKearney, eh?" he continued; "won't they be jealous?"
"It isn't their turn," said Christie carelessly; "besides, they'llprobably be there."
"And I suppose they're beginning to be resigned," said Carr, smiling.
"What on earth are you talking of, father?"
She turned her clear brown eyes upon him, and was regarding him withsuch manifest unconsciousness of the drift of his speech, and, withal,a little vague impatience of his archness, that Mr. Carr was feeblyalarmed. It had the effect of banishing his assumed playfulness, whichmade his serious explanation the more irritating.
"Well, I rather thought that--that young Kearney was paying considerableattention to--to--to Jessie," replied her father, with hesitatinggravity.
"What! that boy?"
"Young Kearney is one of the original locators, and an equal partner inthe mine. A very enterprising young fellow. In fact, much more advancedand bolder in his conceptions than the others. I find no difficulty withhim."
At another time Christie would have questioned the convincing qualityof this proof, but she was too much shocked at her father's firstsuggestion, to think of anything else.
"You don't mean to say, father, that you are talking seriously of thesemen--your friends--whom we see every day--and our only company?"
"No, no!" said Mr. Carr hastily; "you misunderstand. I don't supposethat Jessie or you--"
"Or ME! Am I included?"
"You don't let me speak, Christie. I mean, I am not talking seriously,"continued Mr. Carr, with his most serious aspect, "of you and Jessiein this matter; but it may be a serious thing to these young men to bethrown continually in the company of two attractive girls."
"I understand--you mean that we should not see so much of them," saidChristie, with a frank expression of relief so genuine as to utterlydiscompose her father. "Perhaps you are right, though I fail todiscover anything serious in the attentions of young Kearney toJessie--or--whoever it may be--to me. But it will be very easy toremedy it, and see less of them. Indeed, we might begin to-day with someexcuse."
"Yes--certainly. Of course!" said Mr. Carr, fully convinced of hisutter failure, but, like most weak creatures, consoling himself with thereflection that he had not shown his hand or committed himself. "Yes;but it would perhaps be just as well for the present to let things go onas they were. We'll talk of it again--I'm in a hurry now," and, edginghimself through the door, he slipped away.
"What do you think is father's last idea?" said Christie, with, I fear,a slight lack of reverence in her tone, as her sister reentered theroom. "He thinks George Kearney is paying you too much attention."
"No!" said Jessie, replying to her sister's half-interrogative,half-amused glance with a frank, unconscious smile.
"Yes, and he says that Fairfax--I think it's Fairfax--is equallyfascinated with ME."
Jessie's brow slightly contracted as she looked curiously at her sister.
"Of all things," she said, "I wonder if any one has put that idea intohis dear old head. He couldn't have thought it himself."
"I don't know," said Christie musingly; "but perhaps it's just as wellif we kept a little more to ourselves for a while."
"Did father say so?" said Jessie quickly.
"No, but that is evidently what he meant."
"Ye-es," said Jessie slowly, "unless--"
"Unless what?" said Christie sharply. "Jessie, you don't for a momentmean to say that you could possibly conceive of anything else?"
"I mean to say," said Jessie, stealing her arm around her sister's waistdemurely, "that you are perfectly right. We'll keep away from thesefascinating Devil's Forders, and particularly the youngest Kearney.I believe there has been some ill-natured gossip. I remember that theother day, when we passed the shanty of that Pike County family onthe slope, there were three women at the door, and one of them saidsomething that made poor little Kearney turn white and pink alternately,and dance with suppressed rage. I suppose the old lady--M'Corkle, that'sher name--would like to have a share of our cavaliers for her Euphemyand Mamie. I dare say it's only right; I would lend them the cheruboccasionally, and you might let them have Mr. Munroe twice a week."
She laughed, but her eyes sought her sister's with a certainwatchfulness of expression.
Christie shrugged her shoulders, with a suggestion of disgust.
"Don't joke. We ought to have thought of all this before."
"But when we first knew them, in the dear old cabin, there wasn't anyother woman and nobody to gossip, and that's what made it so nice. Idon't think so very much of civilization, do you?" said the young ladypertly.
Christie did not reply. Perhaps she was thinking the same thing. Itcertainly had been very pleasant to enjoy the spontaneous and chivalroushomage of these men, with no further suggestion of recompense orresponsibility than the permission to be worshipped; but beyond that sheracked her brain in vain to recall any look or act that proclaimed thelover. These men, whom she had found so relapsed into barbarism thatthey had forgotten the most ordinary forms of civilization; thesemen, even in whose extravagant admiration there was a certain loss ofself-respect, that as a woman she would never forgive; these men, whoseemed to belong to another race--impossible! Yet it was so.
"What construction must they have put upon her father's acceptance oftheir presents--of their company--of her freedom in their presence? No!they must have understood from the beginning that she and her sisterhad never looked upon them except as transient hosts and chanceacquaintances. Any other idea was preposterous. And yet--"
It was the recurrence of this "yet" that alarmed her. For she rememberednow that but for their slavish devotion they might claim to be herequal. According to her father's account, they had come from homes asgood as their own; they were certainly more than her equal in fortune;and her father had come to them as an employee, until they had taken himinto partnership. If there had only been sentiment of any kindconnected with any of them! But they were all alike, brave, unselfish,humorous--and often ridiculous. If anything, Dick Mattingly was funniestby nature, and made her laugh more. Maryland Joe, his brother, toldbetter stories (sometimes of Dick), though not so good a mimic as theother Kearney, who had a fairly sympathetic voice in singing. They wereall good-looking enough; perhaps they set store on that--men are sovain.
And as for her own rejected suitor, Fairfax Munroe, except for a kind ofgrave and proper motherliness about his protecting manner, he absolutelywas the most indistinctive of them all. He had once brought her somerare tea from the Chinese camp, and had taught her how to make it; hehad cautioned her against sitting under the trees at nightfall; he hadonce taken off his coat to wrap around her. Really, if this were theonly evidence of devotion that could be shown, she was safe!
"Well," said Jessie, "it amuses you, I see."
Christie checked the smile that had been dimpling the cheek nearestJessie, and turned upon her the face of an elder sister.
"Tell me, have YOU noticed this extraordinary attention of Mr. Munroe tome?"
"Candidly?" asked Jessie, seating herself comfortably on the tablesideways, and endeavoring, to pull her skirt over her little feet."Honest Injun?"
"Don't be idiotic, and, above all, don't be slangy! Of course,candidly."
"Well, no. I can't say that I have."
"Then," said Christie, "why in the name of all that's preposterous, dothey persist in pairing me off with the least interesting man of thelot?"
Jessie leaped from the table.
"Come now," she said, with a little nervous laugh, "he's not so bad asall that. You don't know him. But what does it matter now, as long aswe're not going to see them any more?"
"They're coming here for the ride to-day," said Christie resignedly."Father thought it better not to break it off at once."
"Father thought so!" echoed Jessie, stopping with her hand on the door.
"Yes; why do you ask?"
But Je
ssie had already left the room, and was singing in the hall.
CHAPTER IV
The afternoon did not, however, bring their expected visitors. Itbrought, instead, a brief note by the hands of Whiskey Dick fromFairfax, apologizing for some business that kept him and George Kearneyfrom accompanying the ladies. It added that the horses were at thedisposal of themselves and any escort they might select, if they wouldkindly give the message to Whiskey Dick.
The two girls looked at each other awkwardly; Jessie did not attempt toconceal a slight pout.
"It looks as if they were anticipating us," she said, with a half-forcedsmile. "I wonder, now, if there really has been any gossip? But no! Theywouldn't have stopped for that, unless--" She looked curiously at hersister.
"Unless what?" repeated Christie; "you are horribly mysterious thismorning."
"Am I? It's nothing. But they're wanting an answer. Of course you'lldecline."
"And intimate we only care for their company! No! We'll say we're sorrythey can't come, and--accept their horses. We can do without an escort,we two."
"Capital!" said Jessie, clapping her hands. "We'll show them--"
"We'll show them nothing," interrupted Christie decidedly. "In our placethere's only the one thing to do. Where is this--Whiskey Dick?"
"In the parlor."
"The parlor!" echoed Christie. "Whiskey Dick? What--is he--"
"Yes; he's all right," said Jessie confidently. "He's been here before,but he stayed in the hall; he was so shy. I don't think you saw him."
"I should think not--Whiskey Dick!"
"Oh, you can call him Mr. Hall, if you like," said Jessie, laughing."His real name is Dick Hall. If you want to be funny, you can say AlkyHall, as the others do."
Christie's only reply to this levity was a look of superior resignationas she crossed the hall and entered the parlor.
Then ensued one of those surprising, mystifying, and utterlyinexplicable changes that leave the masculine being so helpless in thehands of his feminine master. Before Christie opened the door her faceunderwent a rapid transformation: the gentle glow of a refined woman'swelcome suddenly beamed in her interested eyes; the impulsive courtesyof an expectant hostess eagerly seizing a long-looked-for opportunitybroke in a smile upon her lips as she swept across the room, and stoppedwith her two white outstretched hands before Whiskey Dick.
It needed only the extravagant contrast presented by that gentleman tocomplete the tableau. Attired in a suit of shining black alpaca, thevisitor had evidently prepared himself with some care for a possibleinterview. He was seated by the French window opening upon the veranda,as if to secure a retreat in case of an emergency. Scrupulously washedand shaven, some of the soap appeared to have lingered in his eyes andinflamed the lids, even while it lent a sleek and shining lustre, notunlike his coat, to his smooth black hair. Nevertheless, leaning backin his chair, he had allowed a large white handkerchief to dependgracefully from his fingers--a pose at once suggesting easy and elegantlangour.
"How kind of you to give me an opportunity to make up for my misfortunewhen you last called! I was so sorry to have missed you. But it wasentirely my fault! You were hurried, I think--you conversed with othersin the hall--you--"
She stopped to assist him to pick up the handkerchief that had fallen,and the Panama hat that had rolled from his lap towards the windowwhen he had started suddenly to his feet at the apparition of grace andbeauty. As he still nervously retained the two hands he had grasped,this would have been a difficult feat, even had he not endeavored at thesame moment, by a backward furtive kick, to propel the hat out of thewindow, at which she laughingly broke from his grasp and flew to therescue.
"Don't mind it, miss," he said hurriedly. "It is not worth yourdemeaning yourself to touch it. Leave it outside thar, miss. I wouldn'thave toted it in, anyhow, if some of those high-falutin' fellows hadn'tallowed, the other night, ez it were the reg'lar thing to do; as if,miss, any gentleman kalkilated to ever put on his hat in the house aforea lady!"
But Christie had already possessed herself of the unlucky object, andhad placed it upon the table. This compelled Whiskey Dick to rise again,and as an act of careless good breeding to drop his handkerchief in it.He then leaned one elbow upon the piano, and, crossing one foot over theother, remained standing in an attitude he remembered to have seenin the pages of an illustrated paper as portraying the hero in somedrawing-room scene. It was easy and effective, but seemed to be morefavorable to revery than conversation. Indeed, he remembered that he hadforgotten to consult the letterpress as to which it represented.
"I see you agree with me, that politeness is quite a matter ofintention," said Christie, "and not of mere fashion and rules. Now, forinstance," she continued, with a dazzling smile, "I suppose, accordingto the rules, I ought to give you a note to Mr. Munroe, accepting hisoffer. That is all that is required; but it seems so much nicer, don'tyou think, to tell it to YOU for HIM, and have the pleasure of yourcompany and a little chat at the same time."
"That's it, that's just it, Miss Carr; you've hit it in the centre thistime," said Whiskey Dick, now quite convinced that his attitude was notintended for eloquence, and shifting back to his own seat, hat and all;"that's tantamount to what I said to the boys just now. 'You want anexcuse,' sez I, 'for not goin' out with the young ladies. So, accorden'to rules, you writes a letter allowin' buzziness and that sorter thingdetains you. But wot's the facts? You're a gentleman, and as gentlemenyou and George comes to the opinion that you're rather playin' it forall it's worth in this yer house, you know--comin' here night and day,off and on, reg'lar sociable and fam'ly like, and makin' people talkabout things they ain't any call to talk about, and, what's a darnedsight more, YOU FELLOWS ain't got any right YET to allow 'em to talkabout, d'ye see?" he paused, out of breath.
It was Miss Christie's turn to move about. In changing her seat to thepiano-stool, so as to be nearer her visitor, she brushed down some loosemusic, which Whiskey Dick hastened to pick up.
"Pray don't mind it," she said, "pray don't, really--let it be--"But Whiskey Dick, feeling himself on safe ground in this attention,persisted to the bitter end of a disintegrated and well-worn"Travatore." "So that is what Mr. Munroe said," she remarked quietly.
"Not just then, in course, but it's what's bin on his mind and in histalk for days off and on," returned Dick, with a knowing smile and a nodof mysterious confidence. "Bless your soul, Miss Carr, folks like youand me don't need to have them things explained. That's what I said tohim, sez I. 'Don't send no note, but just go up there and hev it outfair and square, and say what you do mean.' But they would hev the note,and I kalkilated to bring it. But when I set my eyes on you, and heardyou express yourself as you did just now, I sez to myself, sez I, 'Dick,yer's a young lady, and a fash'nable lady at that, ez don't go foolin'round on rules and etiketts'--excuse my freedom, Miss Carr--'and you andher, sez I, 'kin just discuss this yer matter in a sociable, off-hand,fash'nable way.' They're a good lot o' boys, Miss Carr, a squarelot--white men all of 'em; but they're a little soft and green, may be,from livin' in these yer pine woods along o' the other sap. They justworship the ground you and your sister tread on--certain! of course!of course!" he added hurriedly, recognizing Christie's half-conscious,deprecating gesture with more exaggerated deprecation. "I understand.But what I wanter say is that they'd be willin' to be that ground,and lie down and let you walk over them--so to speak, Miss Carr, so tospeak--if it would keep the hem of your gown from gettin' soiled in themud o' the camp. But it wouldn't do for them to make a reg'lar curderoyroad o' themselves for the houl camp to trapse over, on the mere chanceof your some time passin' that way, would it now?"
"Won't you let me offer you some refreshment, Mr. Hall?" said Christie,rising, with a slight color. "I'm really ashamed of my forgetfulnessagain, but I'm afraid it's partly YOUR fault for entertaining me to theexclusion of yourself. No, thank you, let me fetch it for you."
She turned to a handsome sideboard near the door, and presently facedhim again wi
th a decanter of whiskey and a glass in her hand, and areturn of the bewitching smile she had worn on entering.
"But perhaps you don't take whiskey?" suggested the arch deceiver, witha sudden affected but pretty perplexity of eye, brow, and lips.
For the first time in his life Whiskey Dick hesitated between two formsof intoxication. But he was still nervous and uneasy; habit triumphed,and he took the whiskey. He, however, wiped his lips with a slight waveof his handkerchief, to support a certain easy elegance which he firmlybelieved relieved the act of any vulgar quality.
"Yes, ma'am," he continued, after an exhilarated pause. "Ez I saidafore, this yer's a matter you and me can discuss after the fashion o'society. My idea is that these yer boys should kinder let up on you andMiss Jessie for a while, and do a little more permiskus attention roundthe Ford. There's one or two families yer with grown-up gals ez oughterbe squared; that is--the boys mighter put in a few fancy touches amongthem--kinder take 'em buggy riding--or to church--once in a while--justto take the pizen outer their tongues, and make a kind o' bluff to theparents, d'ye see? That would sorter divert their own minds; and even ifit didn't, it would kinder get 'em accustomed agin to the old style andtheir own kind. I want to warn ye agin an idea that might occur to youin a giniral way. I don't say you hev the idea, but it's kind o' nat'ralyou might be thinkin' of it some time, and I thought I'd warn you aginit."
"I think we understand each other too well to differ much, Mr. Hall,"said Christie, still smiling; "but what is the idea?"
The delicate compliment to their confidential relations and the slightstimulus of liquor had tremulously exalted Whiskey Dick. Affecting tolook cautiously out of the window and around the room, he venturedto draw nearer the young woman with a half-paternal, half-timidfamiliarity.
"It might have occurred to you," he said, laying his handkerchief as ifto veil mere vulgar contact, on Christie's shoulder, "that it would be agood thing on YOUR side to invite down some of your high-toned gentlemenfriends from 'Frisco to visit you and escort you round. It seems quitenat'ral like, and I don't say it ain't, but--the boys wouldn't stand forit."
In spite of her self-possession, Christie's eyes suddenly darkened,and she involuntarily drew herself up. But Whiskey Dick, guiltilyattributing the movement to his own indiscreet gesture, said, "Excuseme, miss," recovered himself by lightly dusting her shoulder with hishandkerchief, as if to remove the impression, and her smile returned.
"They wouldn't stand for it," said Dick, "and there'd be some shooting!Not afore you, miss--not afore you, in course! But they'd adjourn to thewoods some morning with them city folks, and hev it out with rifles ata hundred yards. Or, seein' ez they're city folks, the boys would do thesquare thing with pistols at twelve paces. They're good boys, as Isaid afore; but they're quick and tetchy--George, being the youngest,nat'rally is the tetchiest. You know how it is, Miss Carr; his pretty,gal-like face and little moustaches haz cost him half a dozen scrimmagesalready. He'z had a fight for every hair that's growed in his moustachesince he kem here."
"Say no more, Mr. Hall!" said Christie, rising and pressing her handslightly on Dick's tremulous fingers. "If I ever had any such idea, Ishould abandon it now; you are quite right in this as in your otheropinions. I shall never cease to be thankful to Mr. Munroe and Mr.Kearney that they intrusted this delicate matter to your hands."
"Well," said the gratified and reddening visitor, "it ain't perhapsthe square thing to them or myself to say that they reckoned to have mediscuss their delicate affairs for them, but--"
"I understand," interrupted Christie. "They simply gave you the letteras a friend. It was my good fortune to find you a sympathizing andliberal man of the world." The delighted Dick, with conscious vanitybeaming from every feature of his shining face, lightly waved thecompliment aside with his handkerchief, as she continued, "But I amforgetting the message. We accept the horses. Of course we COULD dowithout an escort; but forgive my speaking so frankly, are YOU engagedthis afternoon?"
"Excuse me, miss, I don't take--" stammered Dick, scarcely believing hisears.
"Could you give us your company as an escort?" repeated Christie with asmile.
Was he awake or dreaming, or was this some trick of liquor in hisoften distorted fancy? He, Whiskey Dick! the butt of his friends, thechartered oracle of the barrooms, even in whose wretched vanity therewas always the haunting suspicion that he was despised and scorned; he,who had dared so much in speech, and achieved so little in fact! he,whose habitual weakness had even led him into the wildest indiscretionhere; he--now offered a reward for that indiscretion! He, Whiskey Dick,the solicited escort of these two beautiful and peerless girls! Whatwould they say at the Ford? What would his friends think? It would beall over the Ford the next day. His past would be vindicated, his futuresecured. He grew erect at the thought. It was almost in other voice,and with no trace of his previous exaggeration, that he said, "Withpleasure."
"Then, if you will bring the horses at once, we shall be ready when youreturn."
In another instant he had vanished, as if afraid to trust the reality ofhis good fortune to the dangers of delay. At the end of half an hourhe reappeared, leading the two horses, himself mounted on a half-brokenmustang. A pair of large, jingling silver spurs and a stiff sombrero,borrowed with the mustang from some mysterious source, were donned to dohonor to the occasion.
The young girls were not yet ready, but he was shown by the Chineseservant into the parlor to wait for them. The decanter of whiskey andglasses were still invitingly there. He was hot, trembling, and flushedwith triumph. He walked to the table and laid his hand on the decanter,when an odd thought flashed upon him. He would not drink this time.No, it should not be said that he, the selected escort of the elite ofDevil's Ford, had to fill himself up with whiskey before they started.The boys might turn to each other in their astonishment, as he proudlypassed with his fair companions, and say, "It's Whiskey Dick," but he'dbe d----d if they should add, "and full as ever." No, sir! Nor whenhe was riding beside these real ladies, and leaning over them at someconfidential moment, should they even know it from his breath! No. . . .Yet a thimbleful, taken straight, only a thimbleful, wouldn't be much,and might help to pull him together. He again reached his tremblinghand for the decanter, hesitated, and then, turning his back upon it,resolutely walked to the open window. Almost at the same instant hefound himself face to face with Christie on the veranda.
She looked into his bloodshot eyes, and cast a swift glance at thedecanter.
"Won't you take something before you go?" she said sweetly.
"I--reckon--not, jest now," stammered Whiskey Dick, with a heroiceffort.
"You're right," said Christie. "I see you are like me. It's too hot foranything fiery. Come with me."
She led him into the dining-room, and pouring out a glass of icedtea handed it to him. Poor Dick was not prepared for this terribleculmination. Whiskey Dick and iced tea! But under pretence of seeing ifit was properly flavored, Christie raised it to her own lips.
"Try it, to please me."
He drained the goblet.
"Now, then," said Christie gayly, "let's find Jessie, and be off!"