Part 20 (2/2)

Now, when I came to think it over, I hadn't heard the Friar express himself very free on women. I had heard him say to allus treat 'em kind an' square, the good ones and the bad; but when ya come to ponder over this, it wasn't no-wise definite. Still I couldn't believe ill of him; so I took a vacation an' started to hunt him up.

The feller who had told me didn't know much about it, but the feller who had told him knew it all. When I found this feller, he was in the same fix; and he sent me along to the one who had told him. They were all a lot alike in not knowin' it all; but I finally found out who the girl was.

She was a girl named Kit Murray, and she allus had been a lively young thing with a purty face, an' could ride an' shoot like a man. She had took part in a couple o' frontier-day exhibitions, and it had turned her head, and she had gone out with a show. When she had come back, she had put on more airs 'n ever, and naturally the boys were some wild about her-though I hadn't seen her myself.

News o' this kind travels fast, and I heard buzzin' about it everywhere; but it was just like all other scandal. Most people, when they gossip, believe an' tell the story which comes closest to what they'd 'a' done if they'd had the same chance; and what I figured out to be true was, that Olaf the Swede and another Cross-brander by the name o' Bud Fisher had sc.r.a.pped about the girl, Olaf near killin' the kid and the girl runnin' off to the Friar. Now, all the good deeds 'at the Friar had done hadn't caused much talk; but this news spread like wild-fire; and a lot o' those he had helped the most turned again' him and said they wished they could find out where he was hidin'.

I took it just the other way; I knew the Friar purty well, and what I feared most was, that he wasn't hidin' at all, and that Olaf would find him before I could give him warnin'. It was two weeks before I found the Friar; but once I came upon Olaf, face to face, and we eyed each other purty close. This was the first time I ever noticed his eyes. They were the queerest eyes I ever saw, a sort of blue; but a deeper blue, a bluer blue 'n anything I had ever seen outside a flower. The's a flower on the benches in June just the color of his eyes, a soft, velvety flower; but Olaf's eyes weren't soft and velvety the day we met, and they gave me a queer, creepy feelin'. I hope I didn't show it any; but I did feel relieved after I'd pa.s.sed him.

Finally I found the Friar, just as I might have expected-by the sound of his voice. I had got clear over into the Basin and was crossin'

through Carter Pa.s.s when I heard his voice above me, singin' one of his marchin' songs. I was mightily rejoiced to find him; but I had that all out of my face by the time I had wound around up to him. He was totin' a log on his shoulder, and struttin' along as jaunty as though the whole earth was simply his backyard.

”Here,” I growls to him, indignant, ”what do you mean by makin' such a noise? Haven't you got a grain o' gumption!”

He looked up at me with the surprise stickin' out from under his grin.

”Well, well, well!” sez he. ”Who are you-the special officer for the prevention of noise?”

”I ain't no special officer of anything,” I answers; ”but the's people lookin' for you, and you ought to have sense enough to keep quiet.”

”And I'm lookin' for people,” sez he, grinnin' like a boy; ”and the best way to find 'em is by makin' a noise. The' ain't any rules again'

walkin' on the gra.s.s up here, is there?”

”Olaf the Swede is after you on account o' the gal,” I blunted; ”and he ain't no bluffer. He intends to do away with you for good and all; and you'd better be makin' your plans.”

”Goin' to do away with me for good an' all,” he repeats, smilin'.

”Well, Olaf the Swede is a gross materialist. The worst he can do will be to tear off my wrapper and leave me free to find out a lot of things I'm deeply interested in. Why, Happy, you're all worked up!

You've lost your philosophy, you've become a frettish old woman. What you need is a right good scare to straighten you up again. This Olaf the Swede is part of Ty Jones's outfit, isn't he?”

”He is,” I replied, shakin' my head in warnin', ”and the whole gang'll back him up in this.”

”Good!” sez the Friar, smackin' his hand. ”I've wanted an openin'

wedge into that outfit ever since I came out here. Of a truth, the Lord doth move in a mysterious way, his wonders to perform.”

”Well, he certainly will have to perform some mysterious wonders to get you out of this sc.r.a.pe,” I said. I was put out at the way he took it.

”Don't be irreverent, Happy,” sez he, the joy-lights dancin' in his eyes. ”We are all merely instruments, and why should an instrument take it upon itself to question the way it is used. Where is this Olaf?”

”I met him yesterday; and for all I know, he's been followin' me.”

”Fine, fine!” sez the Friar. ”Now, you go on back to the Diamond Dot, and I'll go back over your trail and save Olaf as much bother as possible.”

”I'm goin' along with you,” I sez.

”No,” sez he.

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