Part 33 (1/2)

_She_ wasn't hangin' on to the side of her hoss, no, ma'am! She was ridin' the prettiest _kind_ of a bronc, fat and sa.s.sy. And she was settin' a-straddle, straight and graceful, in a spick-and-span new suit, and a three-cornered hat like George Was.h.i.+ngton.

I let out a yell that would 'a' raised the hair of a reservation Injun.

”Macie Sewell!” I says--just like that. I give my blamed little nag a hit that put her into her jerky trot. And I come 'longside, humpin'

like Sam Hill.

She pulled her hoss down to a standstill; and them long eye-winkers of hern lifted straight up into the air, she was so surprised. ”Alec!”

she says.

”Yas, Alec,” I answers. ”Aw, dear little gal, is y' glad t' see me?”

”Wal, what 're _you_ doin' here!” she goes on. ”I cain't hardly believe what I see.”

I was so blamed fl.u.s.tered, and so happy, and so--so scairt, that I had t' go say the _one_ thing that was plumb foolish. ”I'm on hand t'

take you back home if you're ready,” I answers. (Hole on till I give myself another good, ten-hoss-power kick!)

Up till now, her look 'd been all friendly enough. But now of a suddent it got cold and offish. ”Take me home!” she begun; ”_home!_ Wal, I like that! Why, I'm just about t' make a great, big success, _yas_. And I'll thank you not t' spoil my chanst with any more of you' tricks.”

She swung her bronc round into the trail.

”Macie! Spoil you' chanst!” I answers. ”Why, honey, I wouldn't do that. I only want t' be friends----”

Her eyes can give out fire just like her paw's. And when I said that, she give me one turrible mad stare. Then, she throwed up her chin, spurred her bronc, and went trottin' off, a-humpin' the same as the rest of the ladies.

I follered after her as fast as I could. ”Macie,” I says, ”talk ain't goin' t' show you how I feel. And I'll not speak to you again till you want me to. But I'll allus be clost by. And if ever you need me----”

She set her hoss into a run then. So I fell behind--and come nigh pullin' the mouth plumb outen that crow-bait I was on. ”Wal, Mister Cupid,” I says to myself, ”that Kansas cyclone the boss talked about seems t' be still a-movin'.”

I wasn't discouraged, though,--I wasn't discouraged.

”One of these times,” I says, ”she'll come t' know that I only want t' help her.”

Next mornin', I started my jumpin'-jack business again. And _that_ whack, I sh.o.r.e got a rough layout: 'Round and 'round that blamed park, two hunderd and forty-'leven times, without grub, 'r a drink, 'r even water! And me a-hirin' that hoss _by the hour!_

Just afore sundown, she showed up, and pa.s.sed me with her eyes fixed on a spot about two miles further on. A little huffy, yet, y' might say!

I joked to that three-card-monte feller, you recollect, about bein'

busted. Wal, it was beginnin' t' look like no joke. 'Cause that very next day I took some stuff acrosst the street to a p.a.w.nbroker gent's, and hocked it. Then I sit down and writ a postal card t' the boys.

”_Pa.s.s 'round the hat,_” I says on the postal card, ”_and send me the collection. Bar that Mexic. Particulars later on._”

Wal, fer a week, things run smooth. When Mace seen it was no use to change the time fer her ride, she kept to the mornin'. It saved me a pile. But she wouldn't so much as look at me. Aw, I felt fewey, just _fewey_.

One thing I didn't figger on, though--that was the _po_lice. They're white, all right (I mean the _po_lice that ride 'round the park).

Pretty soon, they noticed I was allus ridin' behind Macie. I guess they thought I was tryin' to bother her. Anyhow, one of 'em stopped me one mornin'. ”Young feller,” he says, ”you'd better ride along Riverside oncet in a while. Ketch on?”

”Yas, sir,” I says, salutin'.

Wal, I _was_ up a stump. If I was to be druv out of the park, how was I ever goin' to be on hand when Macie 'd take a notion t' speak.

But I hit on a plan that was somethin' _won_-derful. I follered her out and found where she stalled her hoss. Next day, I borraed a'