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  Chapter XVI

  Sanchia Schemes

  Chance had it that the very first individual they saw in Big Run wasSanchia Murray. She was in white and looked fresh and cool and girlishand inviting as she sat idling upon the porch at the hotel. When shesaw them, she smiled engagingly.

  Only a minute ago as they turned into the hot, deserted street AlanHoward had suggested:

  'We'd better have lunch at the hotel and ride on to San Ramonafterwards.' Helen now told herself wisely that he had known Mrs.Murray would be at the hotel. She turned to wave to John Carr, who hadsaid good-bye at the outskirts of Big Run; he claimed that he had beenaway from home long enough and had some business waiting on his return.

  'He's perfectly splendid, don't you think, Mr. Howard?' Helen askedbrightly, quite as if she had not yet seen Sanchia.

  'Yes,' he rejoined warmly. 'He's the best friend a man ever had.'

  They dismounted, and Sanchia Murray was not to be ignored longer. Shehurried forward and gave both hands at the same time, one to Helen, oneto Longstreet. Howard, who held back a pace, fully occupying his ownhands with the reins of the three horses, she treated to a quick,friendly nod. He turned away to the stable as the Longstreets andSanchia took chairs on the porch. Helen was cool but civil; she didnot like the woman and yet she had no sufficient cause to be downrightrude as she was inclined to be. Longstreet, on the other hand, as hemade himself comfortable, considered Sanchia Murray as nice andfriendly and pleasant.

  They chatted about this, that and the other thing, all inconsequential,and Helen had to admit that Sanchia had her charm, that she wasvivacious and clever and pretty. Helen contented herself for the mostpart with a quiet 'Yes' or 'No,' and sat back and made her judgments.In the first place, Sanchia was no woman's woman, but the type to leada heedless man to make a fool of himself. In the second place, andeven when she was laughing, her dark eyes were quick and filled with alook of remarkable keenness. And, finally, it appeared that she felt avery strong interest in Longstreet.

  'She's nothing but a flirt,' thought Helen with something of disgustand utterly without realization that she herself had come perilouslyclose to flirting with John Carr not so long ago--though of course withample reason! 'She'd look like that at any man, were he inknee-breeches or as old as Dad.'

  Howard came, and presently they went into the darkened dining-room.Sanchia was entertaining Longstreet with an account of her first cominginto this perfectly dreadful country, and so it came about that Helenand Alan entered together and found chairs side by side. Since for thegreater part of the meal Sanchia monopolized the university man, Alanand Helen were left largely to themselves. And, largely, they weresilent. He sought to engage her in talk some two or three times, foundher quiet and listless, and in the end gave up all attempt atconversation. After lunch, while Mrs. Murray's tongue was still racingmerrily for the benefit of the professor, Howard succeeded in gettingHelen alone at the far end of the porch.

  'Look here, Helen,' he said after his outright style, 'what's thematter? What have I done?'

  '_Helen_?' she repeated after him.

  'Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Helen, or Miss Longstreet, or YourLadyship. That Helen just slipped out.'

  'So I noticed. Is it a little habit of yours calling girls by theirfirst names when----'

  'I don't know any girls,' he cut in vigorously.

  She lifted her brows at him.

  'How about Sanchia Murray? Isn't she----'

  'Damn Sanchia Murray,' he said savagely.

  'I'm talking about you! You and me.'

  Helen gasped. Either his oath shocked her or she gave a very excellentimitation of a maiden thunder-stricken by such language as she hadnever dreamed a man could employ. Certainly not a man who had theslightest claim to the title of a gentleman.

  'I beg your pardon again,' muttered Howard. 'That's twice. And nowtell me, will you, what I've done?'

  Just what had he done? Helen had to think fast. He was tall andstraight and manly, he stood looking honestly into her eyes, he wasgood to look upon and he struck her as very much of a man all the waythrough. Further, he had said 'Damn Sanchia Murray,' quite as thoughhe meant it with all his heart. Just what had he done?

  'Are you going to tell me?' he was asking again. 'That's only fair,you know.'

  'Don't you know?' countered Helen. She looked the part of a girl whoknows very well herself, but is in doubt whether or not she shouldspeak about it.

  'No,' he told her vigorously, 'honest to grandma, I don't. But I'msorry, just the same.'

  Then, all suddenly and with no premeditation, Helen smiled and AlanHoward's heart grew warm.

  'Maybe sometime I'll tell you,' she informed him. 'If you didn't meanit, we'll forget it now. And I'll try to believe that you didn't meananything.'

  He was considerably puzzled. He scratched his head and wondered. Sothere was something, then, that he had done to offend her? Then he wasa low-lived dog and should have been choked to death. He couldn't knowthat there was really nothing in the world wrong, and never had beenanything wrong; that merely Helen had been musing upon a mare's name,and that she had missed him, and did not intend that he should know it,and had resorted to the ancient womanly trick of smiling upon anotherman. At least Howard was relieved. The day grew bright again and hecould find it in his heart to thank God for Sanchia Murray, who stillmonopolized Helen's father.

  This monopoly was one which continued into the afternoon. For whentime came to ride on to San Ramon, Longstreet stated that Mrs. Murraywas going with them. It appeared that she had seen a most adorable hatthere in the milliner's window and had planned since early morning uponriding over for it. So when Alan brought the other horses he led herswith them, a beautiful white mare, glossy and well-groomed, trim as agreyhound and richly accoutred in Mexican saddle and Spanish bit. Mrs.Murray kept them waiting a moment, hardly more. Then she appeareddressed in a distracting riding habit. They saw her leave an envelopewith the hotelkeeper; they did not hear her instructions. Then allmounted, and again Howard had it in his heart to be grateful forSanchia. For now he and Helen rode together and far enough in advanceto be in a world by themselves.

  Until this moment Mrs. Murray had talked about nothing in the worldthat mattered. But now, her eyes watchful, her manner that of one whohas waited long enough and is impatient, she said quickly:

  'You are still looking for your gold mine?'

  'Yes,' said Longstreet. 'Oh, yes.'

  But on the instant in his eye was that look of a man with the aceburied. Perhaps Mrs. Murray had played poker; clearly she knewsomething of poker faces.

  'You have found it!' she cried softly. 'Oh, I am so glad!'

  He looked at her wonderingly.

  'What makes you say that?' he stammered.

  'That I am glad? Why shouldn't I be? Why shouldn't every one be glad?When one's friend--oh, but we are friends, dear Mr. Longstreet! Thereis the one glorious thing to be said about this country, about all ofthe West back from the railroads, that two persons don't have to knoweach other a year to become real, true friends. For your sake and forthe sake of your wonderful daughter, am I not to be genuinely glad?'

  He had to wait to the end of the rushing words to correct her:

  'I meant, what made you say that I had found it?'

  She opened her big eyes at him like a baby.

  'But you have, haven't you? You came to find gold; you brought to bearupon the situation your scientific knowledge instead of a prospector'spoor brain; and you have found gold, I am sure!' She smiled upon himbrightly as she concluded with a semblance of trustfulness andartlessness: 'Tell me the truth; haven't you found it?'

  Suddenly he found himself hard beset. She had gauged him prettyaccurately and therefore had asked him the question pointedly. He musteither say yes or no; true, he might be rude to her and refuse ananswer, but that would be equivalent to an admission. If he said 'No,'he would be lying. There was no other wor
d for it.

  'Well?' persisted Sanchia. She still smiled, she was still extremelykind and friendly, but it was plain that she would have her answer.

  Still he hesitated. What were his reasons for secrecy, after all?Just to spring a surprise for Helen on her birthday. He had alreadytold Alan. A secret is a rather dull and stupid affair unless it isshared. Mrs. Murray was all that was sympathetic; she would rejoicewith him.

  'I had not planned to say anything about it yet,' he began hesitatingly.

  'Oh!' she cried joyously. 'It's wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! I amso glad! Tell me about it. All about it, every word.'

  Longstreet's smile answered her own. And, of course, he told.

  'Only,' he warned her, 'I am keeping it a secret for a little. Helendoesn't know. Next week is her birthday. I am going to give it to herthen.'

  Mrs. Murray dropped her reins long enough to clap her gauntleted hands.Then she elicited the whole story. She asked to be informed how heknew he had really found gold; she expressed her child-like wonder athis great wisdom; she was breathless with admiration after a fashionwhich made him glow; and meantime she learned exactly where the placewas and saw his specimens. As she took them into her own hands hereyes were lowered so that they were hidden; but when she looked up theywere shining.

  'Give me one of them, just one,' she pleaded. 'Won't you? I should sodearly love to keep it for a souvenir of this happiness which is comingto you.' She sighed. Then, in a faint, quiet little voice: 'Maybe Iam asking too much?'

  'No, no,' returned Longstreet stoutly. He selected the finest specimenand presented it to her quite as a kind father might have given a stickof candy to his little girl. 'It is very kind of you to rejoice withus in the good fortune which is beginning to come our way. Justbeginning,' he added with grave assurance.

  'I'll have a locket made of it,' said Sanchia. Now for a little it wasLongstreet who did the talking. She grew thoughtful, nodding now andthen or answering absent-mindedly.

  'You'll begin work soon?' she asked abruptly.

  'Immediately. That's what I'm going into San Ramon to-day for. Thereare certain necessary papers to be drawn, you know, in order to fileproperly. Then I'm going to get some men and teams and explosives andtools and begin development to-morrow.'

  More thoughtful still grew Sanchia, biting her lips, frowning, hidingher eyes under her wide hat. Once she looked up quickly and studiedhis eager face, her eyes keen and searching. Then, still watching himfor the slightest change of expression, she said:

  'Maybe I can be of assistance to you. You will be busy enough gettingyour crew and implements. I know everybody in San Ramon; GeorgeHarkness, at the court-house, is the man to arrange your papers and heis an old friend of mine. I am going to see him anyway to-day, and ifyou like I can have him do everything for you and send you your papersnext week. It requires several days, you know,' and by now her intentregard had assured her that he knew absolutely nothing in the worldabout it.

  Longstreet demurred. He wasn't certain that it could be done this way,nor did he like the idea of imposing upon her. But, she told himquickly, it _could_ be done; she had acted for another gentleman inthis capacity, Mr. Nate Kemble of the Quigley mines. She knew allabout it. As for imposition, she broke into a timid little laugh.

  'I am a rather helpless and, I am afraid, stupid sort of a littlewoman,' she confessed. 'I have to make my own way in the world, andthis is one of the ways I do it. If, when everything is properlyconcluded, you feel that I have really been of assistance and care tosend me a small cheque, just for services rendered, you understand,why----'

  He saw the matter immediately in the desired light.

  'Then,' he told her heartily, 'I shall be delighted to have you see Mr.Harkness for me. You are very kind, Mrs. Murray. And, as you say, Ican give my attention exclusively to the other end of the business. Asto the location of the spot so that the papers----'

  'Oh, that part is all right! I know just where the Dry Gulch is and sowill George when he looks it up on his maps. You won't have to worryabout that in the least.'

  Again Sanchia grew silent and thoughtful. Before them, side by side,went Helen and Howard. She watched them and held her horse back sothat she and Longstreet would not come any closer to them. Finally shemade her second suggestion, watching as before the play of Longstreet'sexpression.

  'You have told Mr. Howard?'

  'Yes. No one else.'

  'He understands that you wish to keep your secret from Helen?'

  'Yes.'

  'Then, suppose we do this: As we come into town I must leave you amoment to ride by the milliner's and be sure that she holds that hatfor me; she lives on a side street. You can ride with the others tothe hotel, for you will have to stay all night there; it will beimpossible for you to get everything done before dark. And, after all,maybe it would be better if you come with me to the court-house. Iwant you at least to meet Mr. Harkness. I will attend to everythingfor you; you can rejoin Helen and Mr. Howard. And I think he willunderstand if you suggest that he stay with Helen at the hotel whileyou ride down to the post office to mail a letter, let's say. Iwouldn't mention court-house,' she added, 'as Helen might guess.'

  During the remaining hour of jogging slowly through the sunshine,Sanchia Murray elaborated her plans, all directed toward the double endof hastening Longstreet's venture and keeping his secret from Helen.She went into detail, secured his consent upon each point or swiftlywithdrew it to make another suggestion, and in the end awoke in him akeen sense of her generosity. When they came to the first buildings ofthe straggling town she waved her hand gaily, swung off into a sidestreet, and he rode on to overtake Alan and Helen. Once around acorner Sanchia put spurs to her mare, struck the sweating shoulderswith her quirt and raced on her way through puffing clouds of dust andbarking dogs as though all leisureliness were gone before a suddenvital need for haste. Before the party of three had come within sightof the hotel she had swung down from her saddle at the back door of theMontezuma House. And every one who knows San Ramon knows theMontezuma, and every one who knows the place knows a house of sinisterreputation.

  At the hotel Howard dismounted first to give his hand to Helen. Thistime she accepted it and even repaid him with a quick smile.Longstreet, while Helen was dismounting, tipped the cattleman a slywink. It was meant to be full of meaning, but only succeeded in makingHoward wonder.

  'If you two will wait for me a moment,' said Longstreet, making aperfectly transparent pretence of having nothing of importance on hismind, 'I am going to ride over to the post office. It's just overyonder. You'll be on the porch when I come back?' and without waitingfor a reply he clucked to his horse and trotted away. Helen lookedafter him in surprise.

  'Papa's up to something he ought to leave alone,' she decided wisely.She turned to remount.

  'We'd better follow him and----'

  Suddenly her expression altered. Her eyes softened and she added.

  'I know,' she added. 'No, we mustn't follow him. And he'll be gone anhour.'

  'What is it?' wondered Alan.

  'I am not quite old enough to stop having birthdays,' she explained.'He's just slipping off mysteriously as usual to buy somethingexpensive and foolish for me. He's just about the dearest old dad inthe world.'

  So they tied their horses and went into the cool of the shady porch.Because they had matters of their own to talk about, they did notconcern themselves further with the eccentricities of a fond parent.Meantime Longstreet, chuckling as he went, rode by the post office toestablish a sort of moral alibi and thence proceeded to thecourt-house. He found it readily, a square, paintless, dusty buildingupon a dying lawn. Sanchia looking flushed and hot, was waiting forhim under a tree in front.

  'Mr. Harkness is out,' she told him immediately. 'And as it happens,there is no one in the office. But I have found where his assistantis. He is Mr. Bates, and he has had a hard day, it seems, and is nowhaving a late lunch at the M
ontezuma House. We are to ride over there.'

  This satisfied him, and together they rode through the back street andto the rear entrance of the gambling-house. Here they dismounted andleft their horses, Sanchia going before him.

  'We'll go in the back way,' she told him, 'as I do not care to come tosuch places, and if I must come, I'd rather it wasn't known. Tonguesare so eager to wag when one is a woman deprived of a protector. Themen from the court-house sometimes come here for their meals.'

  She showed him the way under a long grape-vine arbour and to a doorwhich she opened. There was a dark, cool hall and another door openingupon a small room in which they could see a man sitting at a table witha cup of coffee and some sandwiches before him.

  'I don't know Mr. Bates personally,' whispered Sanchia. 'But he knowswho I am and will do quite as well as Mr. Harkness.'

  'You are Mr. Bates, aren't you?' she asked from the doorway. 'Mr.Harkness's assistant?'

  The man at the table nodded.

  'Yes. Come in. You are Mrs. Murray? I have heard Harkness mentionyou. If there is anything I can do for you?' His eye travelled slowlyto Longstreet.

  The man was not a pleasant type, thought Longstreet. He was swarthyand squat and had an eye that slunk away from his visitors'. But itappeared that he was kindly and eager to accommodate. He got up andclosed the door, and once, after they had begun talking, went on tiptoeto open it again and peered out into the hall as though he suspectedthat some one was listening. He seemed a broad-minded chap, wavingtechnicalities aside, assuring Longstreet that what he wanted done wasquite the simplest thing in the world. No, it was not necessary forhim to come in person to the office; Bates himself was authorized tomake the necessary entries and draw up the papers. Oh, yes; he knewall about Dry Gulch. But he did not seem in the least excited aboutthe discovery; in fact, at the end of the conversation, he said drylythat he feared that the mine would not pan out. Other men had thoughtbefore now that they had found gold in the Last Ridge country, andtheir findings had never amounted to anything.

  'I'll mail the papers to you at Big Run,' he said, rising at the end ofthe interview. 'There will be a small fee which you may pay at yourconvenience.'

  The three went out together. Bates waved a genial good-bye and strodeoff toward the court-house. Suddenly Sanchia appeared restless, almostfeverish to be gone.

  'I must hurry back to the milliner's,' she said. 'Good-bye.'

  Longstreet, abruptly deserted by his two companions, mounted to returnto the hotel. But Sanchia suddenly came back to him.

  'I'd rather you didn't say anything about my helping you,' she saidhurriedly. 'I don't like the idea of coming to a place like theMontezuma, even upon a business matter of urgency like yours. Mr.Howard has such old-fashioned ideas, too, and he might misunderstand.And even Helen---- You won't mention me at all, will you?'

  Again her smile was pleading, child-like. Longstreet assured her thathe would respect her wishes.

  'You can just say to Mr. Howard that you saw Bates and got everythingin shape,' she suggested. 'Good-bye.'

  She was gone, racing again, riding toward the milliner's--and, whenonce out of Longstreet's sight, turning into the road beyond which ledto Big Run.