CHAPTER XVI--LOVE AND LONGING
Even Hunt could not express sympathy for the unhappy Tolley. But he didnot join in Judson's laughter or the chatter of the others in themeeting room. Tolley staggered off toward the Grub Stake, swearingbetween the huge sneezes which racked him like successive earthquakeshocks. Hunt returned inside the building.
The others were grouped near the door, and there were weeping eyes amongthem. For the moment the atmosphere in the vicinity of the pulpit wasunbearable.
Hunt drew forth a handkerchief, tied it across his nose and mouth, andadvanced to the desk. The Bible had not been injured by Tolley's roughaction. But the red pepper was scattered thickly upon the linen pulpitcloth. He wrapped the book in this cloth and carried it to a windowwhich looked upon the narrow lane beside the building. Hunt opened thiswindow; and, leaning over the low sill, dropped the book to the ground.
He closed that window quickly; but he opened others to ventilate theroom. The damp air quickly relieved the place of the pungent pepper. Theparson did all this quietly. He made no comment on the incident.
But the gathering company whispered and chattered--the women angrily, themen more than a little inclined to be amused.
"Parson," said Bill Judson, his eyes twinkling, "I promised Jib Collinslast night that I'd warn you to go easy on pounding the pulpit becauseit was sort o' wabbly. I reckon 'twas Tolley I ought t've warned."
Betty explained to the woman who furnished the pulpit cloth why it wasnot in evidence, and Mother Tubbs when she arrived had to be told whythe pulpit Bible was in retirement. But there was time for little morethan that, as the second whistle blew, and the room began to fill.
At least an audience was not lacking to hear Hunt preach his firstsermon at Canyon Pass. The seats were comfortably filled. Most of thecongregation were cleanly and neatly dressed; the women in such fineryas they owned. But some of the men, the rougher sort and evidentlypresent out of curiosity only, looked just as they did on week days.Smoking, however, was taboo.
Rosabell Pickett and her piano, a small upright instrument of a ratheruncertain tone, was of great assistance. Without her help the strangelyawkward congregation could scarcely have raised a hymn.
Hunt made no comment upon the inauguration of the new regime in thetown. He conducted the service just as he might have conducted a missionmeeting at Ditson Corners. And he preached as carefully thought-out adiscourse as was his wont, although his theme was simple. He held theirrespectful attention and, he believed, won their undivided interest.
After the close of the service the Bible was rescued by two of the womenand cleansed of the pepper which had been so plentifully shaken into it.Mother Tubbs took Hunt aside.
"I'm plumb ashamed, parson!" she said indignantly. "To think that NellBlossom done such a trick on you!"
"Nell Blossom?"
"She done it," said the old woman with conviction. "I missed my box o'red pepper last evening; but I had no idee what that flighty gal took itfor. And then she said when I tried to get her to come to meetin' thismornin' that she reckoned it would be too hot up yere for her, and saidfor me to keep out o' the front seats."
"Ah!"
"She reckoned you'd get to thumping the Book in the middle of thesermon, maybe. When Boss Tolley hears tell how it come, he won't loveNell none the better, I reckon."
The peppering of the pulpit Bible might have made the whole of CanyonPass roar with laughter and have brought nothing but ridicule on theparson had Hunt been the actual victim of Nell Blossom's impish trick.That Boss Tolley chanced to suffer yielded a number of the townspeoplemuch amusement. But it afforded others an opportunity to show strongerapproval of what Hunt and his coworkers were trying to do.
Then, there was a third party. It was chiefly made up of Boss Tolley'sfriends. Tolley raved against both Hunt and Nell Blossom, and hissatellites listened and agreed with him. There began to be whisperedabout Canyon Pass a story to the effect that the absent Dick Beckworthwould never be seen by mortal eye again, that he had left town in NellBlossom's company, and that the cabaret singer, if anybody, couldexplain how Dick's horse had come to be found under a heap of fallengravel at the edge of Runaway River.
Joe Hurley did not chance to hear these whispers for some time. Intruth, during the weeks immediately following that first service inTolley's old shack, the owner of the Great Hope had found his time fullyoccupied by two interests. The mine itself was one, for he believed hewas close upon the unveiling of that rich vein which he had alwaysbelieved was the "mother lode" of his claim. The second interest was inBetty Hunt.
Hurley sought the society of the Eastern girl whenever he could do so.Hunt, who was busy himself in several ways--especially in gettingpersonally acquainted with the people in their homes or where theyworked--was glad Joe could devote himself to Betty. Otherwise his sistermight have found it very lonely here at Canyon Pass.
The girl from the East allowed Hurley's better qualities to impress hermind more and more. In her company, too, the young man tried toeradicate from his speech the vernacular that he knew she despised. Yetwhen he grew interested in a subject of conversation, or was excited, itwas the most natural thing in the world for Hurley to revert to thevivid expressions of the cattle trail and the camp.
Of course, no man could have prepared himself for college withoutobtaining a foundation of book education which Betty must fully approve.Occasionally Hurley revealed a flash of wit or a literary appreciationthat delighted the girl.
These weeks of association bred in both young people a confidence andadmiration for each other which under ordinary conditions might haveforetold the growth of a much warmer regard. Hurley began to hope. YetBetty gave him no such encouragement as young women are wont to offer aman in whom they begin to feel a tender interest.
Midsummer was approaching, and the dry, rarified air of Canyon Passsometimes seemed a blast from an open furnace. But when they rode, asthey often did, out upon the heights--above the canyon, forinstance--there was always a cooler and more pleasantly odorous breeze.
In one of their earlier rides the two had jogged the entire length ofthe canyon on the east bank of Runaway River, and even a little way intothe desert, far enough to mark the shallow basin where the last trickleof what was at Canyon Pass a boisterous torrent disappeared in thealkali.
But Betty did not admire even the look of the desert country. There wassomething horrible to her mind in the appearance of the dreary waste.She had never seen the Topaz at sunrise!
When they mounted to the highlands west of the camp, as they did on thispresent day, there were half a dozen trails they might strike into acountry which would reveal beautiful as well as rugged prospects, and tothese Betty could grant admiration. She had begun very soon to feel thesplendors of nature which were so different here from those of hernative Berkshires.
There was a forest that always intrigued her. The trail led them downcathedral aisles to the bank of a murmurous stream. To this theyjourneyed to-day; and, when within sound of the river, Betty drew hermount to a stand.
"It is beautiful, Mr. Hurley," she sighed. "I do not wonder that you solove this out-of-door life and this wilderness. And then you have alwaysbeen used to it. It does make a difference where one is born."
"You said it!" returned Hurley emphatically. "I pretty near stifle whenI get into a city and have to stay a spell. When I get back to this Ifeel like a boy again." He smiled reflectively. "The bard of 'CactusCenter' hits off my feelings to a fare-ye-well," and he proceeded torepeat from "The Forester's Return:"
"'I'm back on the job by the singing river, Far from the town with its money-mad, Back where the quaking aspens quiver-- And I'm glad.
There's work to do and there's work in plenty, And it's sleep in the open if fate so wills; But no man is more than one-and-twenty In the hills.'"
"That is fine!" Betty cried with enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling as theyseldom did. "Why, I can almost feel that way myself, sometimes."
Ther
e was a drop in her tone at the end. She looked away and, had hebeen able to see into her eyes then, he would have beheld a muchdifferent expression in their dimmed depths.
"You'd feel like it always if you'd just let yourself, Miss Betty,"Hurley said, with sudden warmth.
She smiled a little doubtfully, but turned toward him again, havingrecovered her composure. Joe's eyes glowed and a strange pallor roseunder his tan.
"Just think of living out here all your days and enjoying every momentof them! It's rough, I know, and sort of untamed. But it's a good life,Miss Betty--a wonderful life!"
"You--you almost convince me," she stammered, laughing a littleuncertainly, yet gazing at him with a dawning light in her eyes that Joehad not seen there before.
It emboldened him; it inspired him to speak the words that were boilingunder the surface of his calm. He was a forthright fellow at best, wasJoe Hurley, and he was very, very much in love with Betty Hunt.