Part 14 (2/2)

The cowboy nodded: ”That's fair an' square. An' if I win--_you'll have to be satisfied with what you get_. Good-day, I've fooled away time enough already.” And, with a word to his horse, Vil Holland disappeared up the valley in the direction from which the girl had come.

When her anger had cooled sufficiently, Patty smiled, a rather grim, tight-lipped little smile. ”If he wins I'll have to be satisfied with what I get,” she muttered. ”At least, he's candid about it. I think, now, Mr. Vil Holland and I understand each other perfectly.”

Late in the afternoon she emerged from the mouth of her valley and, crossing a familiar tongue of bench, found herself upon the trail near the point of its intersection with Monte's Creek. Turning up the creek, she stopped for a few minutes' chat with Ma Watts.

”Law sakes! Climb right down an' set a while. I wus sayin' to Watts las' night how we-all hain't see nawthin' of yo' fer hit's goin' on a couple of weeks 'cept yo' hirein' the team, an' not stoppin' in to speak of, comin' er goin'. How be yo'? An' I 'spect yo' hain't found yer pa's claim yet. I saved yo' up a dozen of aigs. Hed to mighty near fight off that there Lord Clendennin' he wanted 'em so bad. But I done tol' him yo' wus promised 'em, an' yo'd git 'em not nary nother.

So there they be, honey, all packed in a pail with hay so's they won't break. No sir, I tol' him how he couldn't hev' 'em if he wus two lords. An' all the time we wus a-augerin', Mr. Bethune an' Microby Dandeline sot out yonder a-talkin' an' laughin', friendly as yo'

please.” Ma Watts paused for breath and her eye fell upon her spouse, who stood meekly beside the kitchen door. ”Watts, where's yer manners?

Cain't yo' say 'howdy' to Mr. Sinclair's darter--an' her a-payin' yo'

good money fer rent an' fer team hire. Yo' ort to be 'shamed, standin'

gawpin' like a mud turkle. Folks 'ud think yo' hain't got good sense.”

”I aimed to say 'howdy' first chanct I got.” He shoved a chair toward the girl. ”Set down an' take hit easy a spell.”

”Where is Microby?” she asked, refusing the proffered seat with a smile, and leaning lightly against her saddle.

”Land sakes, I don't know! She's gittin' that no 'count, she goes pokin' off somewhere's in the hills on Gee Dot. Says she's a-prospectin'--like they all says when they're too lazy to do reg'lar work.”

”My father was a prospector,” answered the girl, quickly, ”and there wasn't a lazy bone in his body. And I'm a prospector, and I'm sure I'm not lazy.”

”Law, there I went an' done hit!” exclaimed Ma Watts, contritely. ”I didn't mean no real honest-to-Gawd, reg'lar prospectors like yo' pa wus, an' yo', an' Mr. Bethune. But there's that Vil Holland, he's a cowpuncher, when he works, and a prospector when he don't. An' there's Lord Clendennin', he's a prospector all the time, 'cause he don't never work--an' that's the way hit goes. An' Microby Dandeline's a-gittin' as triflin' as the rest. Mr. Bethune, he tellin' her how she'd git rich ef she could find a gol' mind, an' how she could buy her some fine clos' like yourn, an' go to the city to live like the folks in the pitchers. Mr. Bethune, he's done found minds. He's rich.

An' he's got manners, too. Watts, he's allus makin' light of manners--says they don't 'mount to nawthin'. But thet's 'cause he hain't quality. Quality's got 'em, an' they're nice to hev.”

”Gre't sight o' quality--him,” growled Watts. ”He's part Injun.”

”Hit don't make no diff'ence what he's part!” defended the woman.

”He's rich, an' he's purty lookin', an' he's got manners like I done tol' yo'. Ef I wus you I'd marry up with him, an----”

”Why, Mrs. Watts! What do you mean?” exclaimed the girl flus.h.i.+ng with annoyance.

”Jest what I be'n aimin' to tell yo' fer hit's goin' on quite a spell.

Yo'n him 'ud step hit off right pert. Yo' pretty, an' yo' rich, er yo'

will be when yo' find yo' pa's mind, an' yo' manners is most as good as his'n.”

The humor of the mountain woman's serious effort at match-making struck Patty, and she interrupted with a laugh: ”There are several objections to that arrangement,” she hastened to say. ”In the first place Mr. Bethune has never asked me to marry him. He may have serious objections, and as for me, I'm not ready to even think of marrying.”

”Don't take long to git ready, onct yo' git in the notion. An' I bet Mr. Bethune hain't abuzzin' 'round up an' down this yere crick fer nawthin'. Law sakes, child, when I tuk a notion to take Watts, come a supper time I wusn't no more a mind to git married than yo' be, an', by cracky! come moonrise me an' Watts had forked one o' pa's mewels with nothin' on but a rope halter, an' wus headin' down the branch with pa an' my brother Lafe a-cuttin' through the lau'ls with their rifle-guns fer to head us off.”

”Yo' didn't take me fer looks ner manners, neither,” reminded Watts.

”Law, I'd a be'n single yet, ef I hed. No sir, I tuk yo' to save a sight o' killin' that's what I done. Yo' see, Miss, my pa wus sot on me not marryin' no Watts--not that I aimed to, 'til he says I dasn't.

But Watts hed be'n a pesterin' 'round right smart, nights, an' pa lowed he'd sh.o.r.e kill him daid ef he didn't mind his own business--so'd my brothers, they wus five of 'em, an' nary one that wusn't mighty handy with his rifle-gun.

”So Watts, he quit a-comin' to the cabin, but me an' him made hit up thet he'd hide out on t'other side o' the branch an' holler like a owl, an' then I'd slip out the back do'--an' that's the way we done our co'tin'. My folks didn't hev no truck with the Wattses thet lived on t'other side the mountain, 'count of them killin' two Strunkses a way back, the Strunkses bein' my pa's ma's folks, over a hawg. Even then I didn't hev no notion o' marryin' Watts, jest done hit to be a-doin' like, ontil pa an' the boys ketched on to whut we wus up to.

After thet, hit got so't every time they heerd a squinch owl holler, they'd begin a-shootin' into the bresh with their rifle guns. Watts lowed they was comin' doggone cl.u.s.t to him a time er two, an' how he aimed to bring along his own gun some night, an' start a shootin'

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