CHAPTER II
THE UNIFORM OF THE PLAINS
It was some five hours later when Gideon Birkenshaw, Abe Harum, and IsaBlagg returned to the camp at Sweetwater Bridge. After a sharp fightin the gulch, they had recovered the larger number of their stolenponies, and the rest of their company were still out, rounding-upothers abandoned by their captors.
Greatly to Gideon's annoyance, his precious Arab mare had not yet beenrestored to him, and he had no knowledge of what had happened to theIndian chief.
Leaving Abe and Isa to corral the horses, Gideon dismounted at the sideof the trail and walked slowly and wearily up the woodland path to hishomestead.
Abreast of the well in front of the veranda he came to an abrupt halt,staring with amazed eyes at a great bay horse that was tethered to thetie post. Young Rube had removed the saddle and was in the act ofspreading a blanket over the animal's perspiring body.
"Where in thunder did that hoss come from?" Gideon demanded to know.
"A real beauty, ain't he?" said Rube. "A thoroughbred, sure. An' lookat the saddle and bridle. Ain't they just wonderful?"
"It's the identical hoss that I seen in One Tree Gulch only a few hoursago," declared Gideon. "Thar's no mistakin' it."
"It's the same as I seen racin' down the trail just before the Indianscame along," added Rube.
"But who brought it? Who rid it?" Gideon asked. "Who does it belongto?"
"Dunno," Rube answered, shaking his head in perplexity. "Can't makehim out nohow. Never seen him before. He's just a stranger. Astranger, an' yet he seems ter know his way 'bout this yer camp most aswell as I do meself. He's in the house right now, jawin' with mother.Seems he kinder knows her."
"Knows her? Knows your mother? Knows Mee-Mee? I'm amazed! Yourmother ain't bin outer this yer camp, not for years an' years. How c'nany stranger know her? What's the man's name? Where does he comefrom?"
"Dunno, Boss; dunno." Rube shrugged his shoulders. "Guess th' bestway fer you ter straighten out all them things is to step indoors an''vestigate."
Gideon straightened the wide rim of his hat, arranged his scarf, andtightened his belt. The horse's furnishings told him that the strangerwas not a low-down prairie loafer. He strode to the veranda steps,and, crossing to the open door, looked furtively within the living-room.
Mee-Mee, Rube's Redskin mother, stood with her back to thecooking-stove, stirring a cup of steaming coffee as she smiled at thestranger, talking to him in the Pawnee tongue, which Gideon did notunderstand. The stranger sat on the edge of the table, facing her,boyishly swinging a loose leg. He took the proffered cup of coffee andrested it beside him on the table, almost touching his revolver.
Gideon noticed that the ivory butt of the revolver, projecting from itsholster, was silver-mounted. He also noticed that the man's leatherbelt was new and brightly polished, that his red shirt was of very fineflannel, and his spotted blue scarf of fine soft silk. His short hairwas black, and his complexion as dark as that of an Italian.
The stranger did not look round until Gideon was close up to him. Thenhe stood up from the table and turned.
"Well, Gid, old man," he said very quietly, "d'ye know me?"
Gideon drew back, staring into the stranger's handsome, clean-shavenface, trying to recognize it. His visitor smiled, showing his evenwhite teeth. Then, dropping his hat on the floor, Gideon leapt forwardwith eager, outstretched hands.
"Kiddie!" he cried. "Kiddie!--you--back here! Here to th' old shack?"
Kiddie took the old man's head tenderly between his hands, drew it tohim, and kissed the straggling grey hairs.
"Yes, Gid," he said. "It's me, sure; come back to the old shack andthe old man--back like a wild coyote to its lair among the rocks."
"And it was you, then, as came gallopin' along the trail this mornin',time the Injuns crept up to the corral? It was you as fired all themshots from behind the willows? You that raced like mad inter One TreeGulch an' dropped your lariat over Broken Feather? Oh, Kiddie, Kiddie,I might ha' known--I might ha' known. But I never thought, neverguessed it c'd be you. My! how you've growed! how you've--improved!And you ain't wearin' your earl's coronet, nor your robe trimmed roundwith ermine skins? You've come just like one of ourselves."
"Yes," Kiddie laughed--"in the uniform of the plains, like a simplefrontier scout, leaving all the useless fashionable fixings behind mein England."
"Didn't yer like it, then?" Gideon questioned. "Didn't yer cotton toit, bein' a English nobleman with a pile o' dollars an' vast estates?Didn't yer find that seat in the House of Lords altogether comfortable?"
Kiddie sipped at the cup of coffee.
"I never even entered the House of Lords," he explained. "It wasn'treally necessary. As to my being an English nobleman--well, that wasall right; nobody ever objected; everybody was tremendously kind andconsiderate. But somehow I didn't exactly cotton to it, Gid. I wasnever at my ease, except when out riding, or shooting, or yachting.You see, the blood of the wilds is in my veins. I didn't like thewhirl and gaiety and excitement of London. It seemed somehow hollowand insincere. I yearned for the freedom and simplicity of life on theprairies; couldn't put myself on a level with men who had been topublic schools and universities, or talk with elegant ladies who weremaybe criticizing the way I ate and spoke and moved. I even feltmyself inferior to my own valet, who addressed me as 'your lordship'while teaching me the proper way to wear my fine clothes."
"Ah!" sighed Gideon. "In them circumstances nat'rally you occasion'llythought of the old trail here, an' of me an' the boys, eh?"
"Always," Kiddie answered him. "Always in the social rush of London Iheard the dear old tune of the Sweetwater River, the musical murmur ofthe pine trees, and all the familiar voices of the wilds, and they forever called to me, 'Kiddie, Kiddie, come back, come back! This is thelife for you, not that.' And so, old man, I've come back."
"And haven't delayed none in droppin' inter your old ways," addedGideon. "Hadn't been back in camp ten minutes 'fore you was at yourold graft of shootin' law-breakin' Injuns."
"Did you recover your ponies?" Kiddie asked.
"Some," Gideon nodded. "But not the Arab mare--the best of the bunch.She's took."
"Oh, but the Arab is all right," smiled Kiddie. "You'll find her inthe old stable back of the timber stack."
"Eh? You captured her? Then what about Broken Feather--the Injun thatrode her? Did he give you the slip, or----?"
"Oh, he's captured, too," said Kiddie. "I towed him along in the loopof my lariat, and fixed him up in one of your lean-to sheds. He's inneed of some sticking plaster for a cut on his leg. If you'll comealong, we'll go and attend to him, while Mee-Mee gets ready thebreakfast."
They went out to the shed. Kiddie loosened the padlock, flung open thedoor and looked within. The place was empty. Broken Feather hadescaped.