Part 25 (2/2)
”I came down to tell you about Dad last night. That's why I was here,”
he explained, as though he considered an explanation necessary. And with it was an indication of the curiosity which he could not conceal.
Jane flushed, and her gaze fell. The man stood looking down at her golden hair, the soft skin of cheeks and throat, the parted lips. One of his hands closed slowly, tightly. For a moment he let himself want her!
”I am very glad that you did come. I don't know how much you heard or what you saw but--”
”Nothing that I can recall, except that you wasn't havin' your own way.”
The courtesy of this touched her and she smiled her grat.i.tude.
”d.i.c.k Hilton had been an old friend of mine; that is, I thought he was a friend. I....
”He said some things last night that I wouldn't want you to misunderstand. They.... That is, it would hurt me to think that you might believe what you heard him say.”
”I don't think there's any danger of me misunderstanding anything that man would say about you. I mean, his meaning, ma'am, not only his words.”
”That is as much a.s.surance as could be given,” she replied.
For forty-eight hours following Hepburn's departure the HC was in a state of expectation. Frequently, even on the first night following, the men would stop talking and listen at any unusual sound as though that all believed it might be the foreman returning or some one with the word that he would never return, because the remainder of the crew did not have the faith in his well being that Beck had expressed to Jane Hunter.
The Reverend held the floor much of the time, preaching frequent impromptu sermons, discoursing largely on small matters. To him the rest listened in delight with the exception of Two-Bits, who was overawed by the verboseness of his kin.
A less obvious activity of the Reverend's was his pertinent, never ceasing questioning. He asked questions casually and covered his attempts to glean information by long-winded comments on irrelevant subjects. Tom Beck, even, caught himself expressing opinions when he had not intended to and guarded himself thereafter.
”He's an old fox!” he thought. ”He knows a heap more than he lets on ... like some other folks.”
Otherwise the man seemed harmless. He let no opportunity pa.s.s to sell his fountain pens which he carried always in the pockets of his frock coat. He took frequent inventories of his stock and when he miscounted or actually found some article missing he turned the place upside down until the loss was adjusted.
He seemed inclined to linger because though a.s.suring the rest that his plans were not of mortal making he often spoke of the summer's work. He was no mean ranch hand himself and was with his brother much, doing everything from branding colts to digging post holes.
When, on the morning of the third day Hepburn had not returned, Jane called Beck to the house and asked if he did not think it wise to send help. The man did not reply at once because at this suggestion a possibility flashed into his mind which he had not considered hitherto.
He looked at the girl who stood fingering the locket and asked himself:
”Has he taken this chance to quit the country? Has something happened that is bound to come to light?”
Aloud, he said:
”Your worry is in the wrong place. You're worrying over your men and you ought to be worrying over your stock. You've come into this country; you want to stay; you don't seem to understand, quite, that this is no polite game you're playing.
”When a man goes to work for an outfit, if he's the right kind to be a top hand out here, he's willing to do anything that comes up, even if it's risking his life. That ain't right pleasant to think about, ma'am, but we all understand it. If it has to be it has to be; no choice.
”If you're going to worry more about your men in a case like this than you do about havin' them hold up your end of the game you ain't going to play up to your part. You can't be soft hearted and stand off horse thieves.”
”But, don't you see that I can't feel that way?” she pleaded.
<script>