Part 49 (1/2)
At the pasture gate the drivers halted the wagon teams, waiting for Pan to come up. Gus had opened the wide-barred gate, and now stood there with a grin of relief and gladness.
”Drive in,” shouted Pan from behind. ”We'll camp here tonight.”
”Howdy thar, you ole wild-hoss night wrangler,” yelled Blinky to Gus.
”Howdy, yourself,” was the reply. ”You can bet your roll that I never expected to see you agin. What'd you do to Marco?”
They drove in along the west fence, where a row of trees shaded the still hot sun.
”Gus, I see our wild horses are still keeping you company,” remarked Pan, as he loosened the cinch of his saddle.
”Sh.o.r.e. But they ain't so wild no more. I've fooled around with them for two days now,” replied Gus.
Pan smacked Sorrel on the flank: ”There! Go take a look at your rival, Whitefoot.” But the sorrel hung around camp. He had been spoiled by an occasional nose bag of grain. Pan lent a hand all around, and took note of the fact that Blinky lingered long around his wagon. Pan peeped over the wagon side. Louise lay on her side with face exposed.
It was pale, with eyelids tight. In sleep her features betrayed how life had wronged her.
”Reckon you're wise, Blink, to keep your wagon away from the others like this,” said Pan. ”Because when your wife wakes up there's liable to be h.e.l.l. Call me p.r.o.nto.”
”Pard, you're sh.o.r.e she ain't in a stupor or somethin'?” queried Blinky, apprehensively.
”Blink, you know she was ill for ten days. Then she drank a lot.
Reckon she's knocked out. But there's nothing to worry about, except she'll jump the traces when she comes to.”
”You mean when she finds out--I--she--we're married?”
”That's what, Pard Blink. I wish you didn't have to tell her.”
”_Me_? My Gawd, I cain't tell her,” replied Blinky, in consternation.
”Sh.o.r.e you gotta do that.”
”All right, Blink. I'll save what little hair you have left,” returned Pan, good humoredly.
He walked out to take a look at the horses, which were scattered on the far side of the pasture. They could not be closely approached, yet were not nearly so wild as he had expected them to be. The saddle and wagon horses grazed among them. The blue roan looked vastly better for two days' rest. Whitefoot was a n.o.ble stallion. Sight of Little Bay brought keen pain to Pan. What boundless difference between his state of mind when he had caught that beautiful little horse and what it was now!
Pan went back to the campfire. Supper was in progress, with the capable Mrs. Smith bustling about. Lucy and Alice were a.s.sisting. Pan stole a glance at Lucy. Her face was flushed from the wind and sun; she wore a white ap.r.o.n; her sleeves were rolled up to show round strong arms. Bobby and his two puppies were much in the way.
”Pan, how is Mrs. Somers?” inquired his mother solicitously.
”Who?” queried Pan, puzzled.
”Why, your partner's wife.”
”Oh, Blinky! ... Gee, I'd clean forgot his right name,” laughed Pan, mentally kicking himself. ”She's still sound asleep. I told Blinky not to wake her. She looked white and worn out.”
”But she'll starve,” interposed Lucy, with questioning eyes on Pan.
Indeed their meaning had no relation to her words. ”You men don't know anything. Won't you let me wake her?”
”Thanks. Better let her alone till tomorrow,” replied Pan briefly.