Part 13 (1/2)
”Give me a seat, somebody, quick, before I fall. I--I--to think of my little gell--my own sweet-faced, lovin' little gell----Oh, I can't believe it! I can't and I won't. It's some plaguey Californy yarn'
you're pa.s.sin' the time with. Atlantic! But you might have chose a likelier subject to fool over, you might.”
But Aleck himself had seen the arrival through the window and came out to greet him with the heartiness accorded all the Sobrante people, and to a.s.sure him that the story was all true; and that, after all, it were better that he had not been at home when the trouble came; ”for it would have broke your heart, 'Forty-niner,' into more pieces than old Stiffleg broke your bones, and it wouldn't have healed so soon, neither. But, come in, come in, boy, and have a mouthful of dinner.
Janet has as fine a dish of haggis as ever I tasted in Aberdeen at home, and it should relish to you, after all that hospital fare and so on. Janet! Janet! Here's Ephraim Mars.h.!.+ Come welcome him!”
And Janet came quickly, like her husband cordial and sympathetic, and led the deeply moved frontiersman into her own kitchen, where no uninvited ranchman dared intrude, and there served him well with good things, including the haggis. And as she served she talked in a wise, womanly way that soothed his agitation and turned his thoughts from enmity against the dwarf into thanksgiving that now all was well.
”For since it is over and done with we can reckon the gain. The sweet bit bairnie has won for herself fresh friends. In all the countryside there was but one feeling, 'The child must be found.' No other thing was of any moment, and found she was, by a man so much older than any of the rest that n.o.body, not even you, can grudge him the honor. More hot milk? Oat cake? Nothing? Well, well; for a man that's traveling you've a small appet.i.te. Must be off already and pack your own bundle?
Why, friend, you would better leave that till one the boys rides up for the mail. Due before this, indeed, for Sobrante ranchers are ever keen for their post stuff. No? A horse, then? Aleck was going to do a bit of plowing with her, later on, but he'll eagerly give over that for you.”
But Ephraim felt that he could delay for nothing more, not even for the arrival of a Sobrante messenger; and as for Jean, the sorrel mare--he and she were old acquaintances, and he declined her services with a grim smile, saying:
”Thank you, Janet, it's kindly offered, but I'm in haste and I'd rather trust my own lame leg than her four lagging ones. Besides, if Aleck has been afield in this search he'll be behindhand in his work, and he's a hand to keep things up to the level line. Good-by, good-by.
Oh! wait a bit, though. I'd clean forgot that I put a sc.r.a.p of white Scotch linen and a yard or two of plaid bodice stuff in my pack for you. This business of my captain getting lost has shaken my wits.”
Though Janet protested against the trouble her face glowed at prospect of her gifts, and as she a.s.sisted him to unstrap and refasten his canvas sack, and even begged to be shown the simple remembrances he had procured for everybody he knew ”at home;” not least among them being calicoes of brilliantly unwashable colors for Aunt Sally's patchwork. Then he set off alone, staff in hand, stolidly yet swiftly covering the ground with that halting stride of his that soon took him out of sight.
The a.s.sembled ranchmen received their own mail matter, mounted and rode away; and there settled over the little town that monotonous quiet which would not be broken again until the arrival of the evening train, when, possibly, some chance pa.s.senger might alight on the deserted platform.
Meanwhile, Ephraim was pa.s.sing over the level road toward ”home,”
feeling keener delight and longing with each step's advance, and when he came to a little branch trail, where a rude signpost stated the fact that he had come ”Five miles from Marion,” he made his first halt, sitting to rest for a few moments under the eucalyptus trees bordering the arroyo. The branch road led to and disappeared among a group of buildings, some distance to the north, on the ranch of one Miguel Solano, a friend of Antonio Bernal, and a Mexican of ill-repute. The ranch was comparatively new and was rich in olive orchards and all the conveniences for producing a fine quality of oil, and had been bought and arranged by an easterner with all the accessories of profitable farming. Death had put an end to the settler's industry, and the property had come, at a low figure, into Solano's hands; whereupon everything industrious lapsed, neglect and discomfort usurping the place of thrifty comfort.
Gazing toward this place, Ephraim reflected that; ”If that Greaser had half as much snap as he has wickedness he'd be a rich man. As 'tis, honest folks sort of give Solano's a wide berth. I'm thirsty as a dog and wouldn't mind havin' a drink out that artesian well they have there, but--Atlantic! There's somebody already stoopin' over it; looks mighty familiar!”
Then the old man stood up and s.h.i.+elded his eyes with his hand as he peered into the distance, ending his scrutiny with a shake of his fist in the direction he had gazed, and muttering aloud:
”No, I'm better off here. Queer how you can recognize a snake, no matter how far off! That's Ferd, the dwarf; and if I was near enough to touch him I couldn't keep my fingers off his dirty throat, nohow, till I'd choked the life out of him! Ugh! When I think---- But I mustn't think. I must just get up and jog on till I see a prettier sight than that. If I can spy the hunchback at one mile off I can see my little captain's bonny head at ten. Home, old 'Forty-niner'! Home's the word!”
As if the thought of Jessica had put new strength into his body Ephraim again shouldered his pack and started forward; but he had proceeded a short distance only when he again halted and this time in consternation. On the road before him, where it dipped slightly into a hollow, lay the prostrate figure of a man, face downward in the dust; and from the shrubbery near by came the helpless floundering of some big animal and its occasional cry of distress, than which there is no sound more pitiful in all the world.
Away flew the pack, and Ephraim bent over the man, gently turning him over, and crying in fresh dismay:
”It's Marty! George Cromarty, of all men, dead as a doornail!”
Alas! Ephraim's home-coming was proving anything but the delight he had antic.i.p.ated. To be met first by the story of the trouble which had visited Sobrante and now by this dreadful discovery almost unnerved him; but he was a man of action and his hand flew to Marty's breast to feel if his heart still beat. With the other hand he softly brushed the dust from the rigid features and rubbed the colorless temples.
After a second or two his face brightened, and he cried aloud, as if the other might hear and be cheered:
”Well, you aren't a dead man, after all, Marty, my lad! But I'd give a heap, this minute, for a bit of cold water to give you. And, Atlantic!
I believe I'm losing my wits. 'Course, he's got it himself, handy. All the boys carry a flask in their pockets, even on the short ride to post, but Marty, being teetotal, fills his with water and gets laughed at for his notions. A mighty good notion it'll prove for him if it saves his life, and here goes!”
Raising Marty's lean body so that his head rested on the fallen bundle, Ephraim secured the flask, found it full, and began to moisten the white lips; then, cautiously, to force a few drops down the stiffening throat. Success soon crowned his efforts since, fortunately, the ranchman was merely stunned, not killed, by the ugly fall he had taken when his horse so suddenly pitched forward and tossed him overhead against the pile of rocks.
For it was a horse in agony which sent that moving appeal from the thicket near by, and as soon as ”Forty-niner” was sure that the man was recovering, though he could not as yet speak, he sought the poor beast and saw, to his distress, that for it there was no respite save in death.
”Well, well, well! This is a bad job all round, but better a horse than a man, and lucky for both I came when I did. If I had a gun I'd end the misery of one, straight off. And maybe Marty has. I'll look and see.”
Returning to the road he was greeted by a prolonged stare from the dazed ranchman, who had, indeed, been able to drag his body to a sitting posture, but vainly sought to understand what had happened.