Part 7 (1/2)

”You may find it disagreeable,” warned Tom, delighted by the prospect of a tramp with her. ”It is bound to be wet under foot and the wind will be cold and penetrating; but if you don't mind it, I'm sure _I_ don't.” He finished his coffee and smiled. ”It will be a great relief to get off this boat.”

”Come on, then; I'll meet you at the landing stage in ten minutes,” she exclaimed. ”This will be a good opportunity to get accustomed to the heavy boots Uncle Joe had made for me. They smell like tallow candles with leather wicks, if you can imagine the combination.”

He saw her enter her stateroom and then went to his own, got his rifle and stood at the gangplank like a sentry. In less than the allotted time she joined him, waved gaily at her uncle and the captain, who were talking together near the pilot house, and went down the sloping plank, eager to explore the river bank. As they reached the top of the terrace-like bank and turned to wave again, the sun broke through the clouds and turned the moisture-laden trees and brush into a jeweled fairyland. They did not go far south since they were restricted to the more open s.p.a.ces where they could walk without rubbing against wet foliage, but they found comparatively open lanes along the top of the bank, from where they could keep watch over the packet and get back without undue haste at the sound of her warning whistle.

They crossed the trails of several animals and she listened with interest to her companion's description of their makers, wondering at his intimate knowledge of animal habits. Finally, coming to a great cottonwood log, stripped of its bark and s.h.i.+ning in the sunlight, he helped her upon it and sat down by her side.

”You surprised me, Miss Cooper, when you mentioned you were going to Santa Fe,” he said, turning to one of the subjects uppermost in his mind. ”It is a long, tedious, trying journey to men, and it might prove infinitely more so to a woman.”

”I suppose so,” she replied reflectively. ”But you know, Mr. Boyd, I haven't seen my father in five years, and his letter, sent back by the eastbound caravan from Santa Fe last year, told us how he missed me and how dissatisfied he was with his housekeeping arrangements and how he dreaded to spend another winter away from us. It was too late then, of course, to make the trip, but I determined to go to him with the first caravan leaving Independence this spring. Uncle Joe fumed and fussed about it and collected all the stories of privation, loss of sanity and sudden death, and everything else of a deterring nature and brought them home to me to serve as warnings. I can do anything I want with him except keep him from gambling, and when he really understood that nothing could stop me, he gave in and I soon had him so busy explaining away the woeful tales he had brought me, and hunting up new ones of a bright and cheerful aspect that he half believed them himself. I learned that all the Indians were pets, that there were miles of flowers all the way, that people near death from all kinds of causes miraculously recovered their health by the end of the first two days, and that the caravan had to watch closely to keep its members from leaving it and settling all along the trail.”

They burst out laughing together. He could easily picture her uncle frantically reversing himself. He had taken a great liking to Joseph Cooper, who was a humorous, warm-hearted old fox among his friends, delighting in their pleasures and sunning himself complacently in their approbation. No trouble was too great for him to go through if it would bring happiness to those he cared for.

They laughed and chatted and enjoyed themselves greatly, and were very much surprised when his lean figure appeared beside the pilot house and they saw him wave his hat and motion toward his mouth with animation and great exaggeration.

”Good heavens! Is it dinner time already?” exclaimed Tom, sliding from the log, and becoming aware for the first time that the log had been far from as dry as he thought.

Laughing and scampering, they hurried back toward the landing, racing down the hill that led to the little opening in the grove not far from the water's edge. As they started down it Tom caught sight of several figures sprawled on the sand, which had dried quickly under the combined attacks of sun and wind. Among them he saw the lank form of Ephriam Schoolcraft slowly arising to one elbow as the horse-dealer turned and watched them come down the incline.

Patience stumbled, her heavy boots bothering her, and her companion checked himself and caught her as she pitched forward. Swinging her through the air, he put her down again on the other side of him and laughingly offered his arm.

”Thar ain't nothin' like 'la.s.ses fer to draw flies,” came the drawling, unpleasant voice of the sneering figure on the ground. ”Blow flies air included. Wrap it in skirts an' young fellers make plumb fools o'

theirselves. Any flirt kin pull th' wool over thar eyes like it war a loose skin cap.” His raucous laugh was doubly disagreeable because of the sneer envenoming it, and Tom stiffened.

”I seed an example o' that right yere on this hyar packet; an' most likely I'll see a hull lot more o' it if I has patience. He-he-he!”

Tom checked his stride, but the quick, rea.s.suring pressure on his arm made him keep on, his burning face held rigidly toward the boat. He dared not look at his companion. They walked silently up the landing stage and into the cabin, Tom waiting with ill concealed impatience until his companion should join her uncle at the table. But he was surprised, for she spoke in a pleasant, soft tone and ordered him to remain where he was for a few minutes. Before he could make up his mind what she meant he saw her lean over her uncle's table and say something.

The ex-gambler pushed suddenly back, patted her on the head and walked briskly but nonchalantly toward the curious onlooker.

”You young folks never have any regard for an old man's comfort,” he chuckled as he took hold of Tom's arm. ”Now, sir, I'll take great pleasure in stretching my legs in any direction you may select, and in stretching the neck of any officious meddler. I am at your service, Tom; and, d.a.m.n it, I'm not too old to become a princ.i.p.al!”

Tom stared at him for a moment as the words sunk in. ”By G-d!” he murmured. ”There ain't another like her in th' whole, wide world! Thank you, Mr. Cooper: if you'll be kind enough to stand on one side and keep the affair strictly between myself and that polecat, I'll try not to keep you from your dinner very long. He might have been decent enough to have picked his quarrel in some other way!”

Schoolcraft arose alertly as they entered the little clearing, and watched Tom hand the double-barreled rifle to his companion, slip off his belt and throw his coat over it. The horse-dealer grinned with savage elation as he discarded his own weapons and coat, hardly believing in his good fortune. Not many men along the border cared to meet him unarmed.

Tom stepped forward. ”Every time I look at that terbaccer juice a-dribblin' down yer chin, Schoolcraft, it riles me,” he said evenly.

”I'm a-goin' ter wipe it off,” and his open hand struck his enemy's jaw with a resounding whack as he stepped swiftly to one side. ”You've allus had a sneakin' grudge ag'in me,” he a.s.serted, giving ground before the infuriated horse-dealer, ”since I caught ye cheatin' at Independence.

You've been tryin' ter work it off ever since we left th' levee. I reckon this belongs to you!”

He stepped in quickly and drove his right fist into Schoolcraft's mouth, avoiding the flailing blows. ”If ye'll stand up ter it an' make it a fight,” he jeered, ”I'll be much obliged to ye, fer I've promised my friend not ter keep him from his dinner.” Again he stepped in and struck the bleeding lips. He boxed correctly according to the times, except that he used his feet to good advantage. His education at an eastern university had been well rounded and he never allowed himself to get out of condition.

Schoolcraft, stung to fury, leaped forward to grapple, hoping to make it a rough-and-tumble affair, at which style of fighting he had but few equals. Instead of his adversary stepping to one side, he now stood solidly planted in one spot, his left foot a little advanced, and drove in a series of straight-arm blows that sent the horse-dealer staggering back. The younger man pressed his advantage, moving forward with unswerving determination, his straight punches invariably beating the ill-timed and terrific swings of his bleeding opponent, who showed a vitality and an ability to take punishment not unusual among the men of his breed. The horse-dealer knew that if the fight remained an open affair he would not last long, and he got command over his rage and began to use his head.

Suddenly he dropped to hands and knees under a right-hand blow that was a little short of hurting him, and sprang up under his enemy's guard, and brought exultant e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns from his little group of friends. But for the warning conveyed to Tom by the knowledge that he barely had touched the horse-dealer's jaw with that blow, and could not have knocked him down, the trick might have worked; and as it was it succeeded in bringing the two men to close grips. Schoolcraft's right arm slid around his enemy's waist and hugged him close, while the left slipped up between them until the hand went under the younger man's chin and began to push it up and back. It was the horse-dealer's favorite and most deadly trick and he exulted as he arched his back and threw his full strength into the task. Never had it failed to win, for the victim of that hold must either quit or have his neck broken; and the choice did not rest with the victim.

The muscles of Tom's neck stood out as though they would burst, the veins of his forehead and throat swelling into tiny serpents, and his crimson face grew darker and darker, a purplish tint creeping into it.

But Schoolcraft found that he was dealing with a man who had studied wrestling as eagerly as its sister science. He also found that there was a counter to his favorite hold, always providing that it had been robbed of its greatest factor: surprise. For it to be deadly effective his whole strength had to be thrown into it instantly and meet no ready, rigid opposition; and in this he had failed because of the subtle warning conveyed to his adversary when he fell before a harmless blow.