Part 35 (1/2)
The sentence was never finished, already the two women were in each other's arms, and Reba Reeves was smiling at him over the girl's shoulder: ”Carter Brent! If you had dared to even think of taking her to the hotel, I'd never have spoken to you again! You just let me catch you talking about hotels--when your _folks_ are living right here! And now take off your things because supper is most ready. You'll find warm water in the reservoir of the stove, and I'll make an extra lot of good hot coffee, because I know you will be tired of tea.”
Never in his life had Brent enjoyed a meal as he enjoyed that supper in the dining room of the Reeves', with Snowdrift, radiant with happiness, beside him, and his host and hostess eagerly plying him with questions.
”I think it is the most romantic thing I ever heard of!” cried Reba Reeves, when Snowdrift had finished telling of her life among the Indians, and at the mission, ”It's easy enough to see why Carter chose you, but for the life of me I can't see how you came to take an old scapegrace like him!” she teased, and the girl smiled:
”I took him because I love him,” she answered, ”Because he is good, and strong, and brave, and because he can be gentle and tender and--and he understands. And he is not a scapegrace any more,” she added, gravely, ”He has told me all about how he drank hooch until he became a--a bun----”
”A what?”
”A bun--is it not that when a man drinks too much hooch?”
”A b.u.m,” supplied Brent, laughing.
”So many new words!” smiled the girl. ”But I will learn them all.
Anyway, we will fight the hooch together, and we will win.”
”You bet you'll win!” cried Reeves, heartily, ”And if I'm any judge, I'd say you've won already. How about it Brent?”
Deliberately--thoughtfully, Brent nodded: ”She has won,” he said.
”On the word of a Brent?” Reba Reeves' eyes were looking straight into his own as she asked the question.
”Yes,” he answered, ”On the word of a Brent.”
A moment's silence followed the words, after which he turned to Reeves: ”And, now--let's talk business. I have used about half the dust you loaned me. There is nothing worth while on the Coppermine--now.” He smiled, as his eyes rested upon the girl, ”So I have come back to take that job you offered me. Eleven hundred miles, we came, under the chaperonage of Joe Pete----”
”And a very capable chaperonage it was!” laughed Reeves, ”Funniest thing I ever saw in my life--there in your cabin the morning you started. It was then I learned to know Joe Pete. But, go on.”
”That's about all there is to it. Except that I'd like to keep the rest of the dust, and pay you back in installments--that is, if the job is still open. I've got to borrow enough for a start, somewhere--and I reckon you're about the only friend I've got left.”
”How about that fellow, Camillo Bill? I thought he was a friend of yours.”
”I thought so too, but--when I was down and out, and wanted a grub-stake, he turned me down. He's all right though--square as a die.”
”About that job,” continued Reeves, gravely, ”I'm a little afraid you wouldn't just fill the bill.”
For a moment Brent felt as though he had been slapped in the face. He had counted on the job--needed it. The next instant he was smiling: ”Maybe you're right,” he said, ”I reckon I am a little rusty on hydraulics and----”
”I'd take a chance on the hydraulics,” laughed Reeves, ”But--before we go any further, what would you take for your t.i.tle to those two claims that Camillo Bill has been operating?”
”Depends on who wanted to buy 'em,” grinned Brent.
”What will you sell them to me for?”
”What will you give?”
”How would ten thousand for the two of them strike you?”
Brent laughed: ”Don't you go speculating on any claims,” he advised, ”I'd be tickled to death to get ten thousand dollars--or ten thousand cents out of those claims--but not from you. It would be highway robbery.”
”And if I did buy them from you at ten thousand, or a hundred thousand, you would be only a piker of a robber, as compared to me.”