Part 37 (2/2)
”Why the hull town, seemingly. There's the preacher, and the doctor, and that there Crawley, with Carroll's wagon outfit. They looked a little like a circus, except that there want any wild animals. Unless you'd count Crawley for a monkey, which would be rather hard on the monkey, I guess.”
Ike chuckled, a rare chuckle that seemed to begin a long way below his diaphragm and work slowly up to his lips.
”What the deuce are you talking about?” enquired The Kid. ”What has Crawley got to do with this?”
”Why,” said Ike in a surprised tone, ”dunno, onless he's a friend of the old man's. They do have a lot of business together seemingly. Or perhaps as company for the gel.”
”The girl! Steady there, Swallow,” to his mare, for Swallow had given a sudden spring. ”What girl?” demanded The Kid. ”Why don't you talk sense? You didn't say anything about a girl.”
”Why, didn't I mention about that gel? Well, I'm gettin' forgetful.
Why, what gel do you think? They aint growin' on rose bushes or old willows round here, so far as I've seen. Now, how many gels have you observed in your pilgrimages round that town?”
”Oh, blank you for an idiot!” said The Kid wrathfully. ”Do you mean that the--Miss Mowbray has gone off with the rest?” In spite of his splendid self-control, as The Kid spoke the name a red flush on his face could be suddenly seen through the brown tan.
Ike nodded gravely.
”Yes, she's gone. But she'll be all right. The preacher's there. He'll be busy with the old man, of course, but he'll find some time for her.
And then there's the other chap, you know. He's been mighty kind to-day, mighty kind, and considerable, too. Can't say as I'd just cotton to him, but when he likes he's ingraciousin' ways, mighty ingraciousin' ways.”
”Oh!” roared The Kid. ”Crawley” Then he looked at his cowboy's face.
”Confound you, Ike! So you were pulling my leg a little, were you?
Never mind, my day will come.”
With this he turned the Swallow toward the Lake and set off.
”Good-bye,” called out Ike. ”Where you going?”
”Oh, I say,” cried The Kid, wheeling the Swallow.
”What trail did they take?”
”You mean Crawley?” inquired Ike.
With a curse The Kid bore down upon him.
”Which way did they go?” he demanded.
”Okanagan trail,” said Ike, with a slow grin. ”So long.”
”Good-bye, Ike. You'll see me when I come back.”
And The Kid waved his hand, and gave the Swallow her head.
Ike looked after him, and allowed himself the very, unusual indulgence of a hearty laugh.
”Well,” he said, ”I tried to help Crawley a little, but somehow it didn't seem to go right.”
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