Told In The Hills Part 36

"No, I have not told her, if that is what you mean; why--why should I?"

His denial weakened a little as he remembered how closely his impulse had led him to it, and how strong, though reasonless, that impulse had been.

The stem of the pipe snapped in Genesee's fingers as he arose, pus.h.i.+ng the camp-stool aside with his foot, as if clearing s.p.a.ce for action.

"Since you own up that there's someone about here that you--you've taken a fancy to--d.a.m.n you!--I'm going to tell you right now that you've got to stop that! You're no more fit than I am to speak to her, or ask for a kind word from her, and I give you a pointer that if you try playing fast and loose with her, there'll be a committee of one to straighten out the case, and do it more completely than that man did who was a fool ten years ago. Now, hearken to that--will you?"

And then, without waiting for an answer, he strode out of the shack, slamming the door after him, and leaving his visitor in possession.

"I've got to show him, by staying right in these hills, that I am in earnest," Stuart decided, taking the seat his host had kicked aside, and stretching his feet out to the fire. "No use in arguing or pleading with him--there never was. But give him his own lead, and he will come around to the right point of view, though he may curse me up hill and down dale while he is doing it; a queer, queer fellow--G.o.d bless him! And how furious he was about that girl! Those two are a sort of David and Jonathan in their defense of each other, and yet never exchange words if they can help it--that's queer, too--it would be hard telling which of them is the more so. Little need to warn any man away from her, however; she is capable of taking very good care of herself."

There was certainly more than one woman at the ranch; but to hear the speech of those two men, one would have doubted it; for neither had thought it necessary even to mention her name.

CHAPTER X.

THE TELLING OF A STORY.

"But you promised! Yes, you did, Mr. Stuart--didn't he, Mrs. Hardy?

There, that settles it; so you see this is your evening to tell a story."

The protracted twilight, with its cool grays and purples, had finally faded away over the snow, long after the stars took up their watch for the night. The air was so still and so chill that the bugle-call at sunset had sounded clearly along the little valley from camp, and Fred thought the nearness of sound made a house seem so much more home-like.

After the bugle notes and the long northern twilight, had come the grouping of the young folks about the fire, and Fred's reminder that this was to be a "story" night.

"But," declared Stuart, "I can think of none, except a very wonderful one of an old lady who lived in a shoe, and another of a house marvelously constructed by a gentleman called Jack--"

Here a clamor arose from the rebels in the audience, and from Fred the proposal that he should read or tell them of what he was working on at present, and gaining at last his consent.

"But I must bring down some notes in ma.n.u.script," he added, "as part of it is only mapped out, and my memory is treacherous."

"I will go and get them," offered Fred. "No, don't you go! I'm afraid to let you out of the room, lest you may remember some late business at camp and take French leave. Is the ma.n.u.script on the table in your room?

I'll bring it."

And scarcely waiting either a.s.sent or remonstrance, she ran up the stairs, returning immediately with hands full of loose sheets and two rolls of ma.n.u.script.

"I confiscated all there was in reach," she laughed. "Here they are; you pay no money, and you take your choice."

She was such a pet.i.te, pretty little creature, her witchy face alight with the confidence of pleasure to come; and looking down at her, he remarked:

"You look so much a spirit of inspiration, Miss Fred, that you had better not make such a sweeping offer, lest I might be tempted to choose you."

"And have a civil war on your hands," warned Rachel, "with the whole camp in rebellion."

"Not much; they don't value me so highly," confessed Fred. "They would all be willing to give me away."

"A willingness only seconded by your own." This from the gallant Lieutenant on the settee. "My child, this is not leap-year, and in the absence of your parent I--"

"Yes, I know. But as Captain Holt commands in papa's absence, I don't see what extra responsibility rests on your shoulders. Now, Mr. Stuart, all quiet along the Kootenai; go ahead."

"Not an easy thing to do," he answered ruefully, trying to sort the jumbled lot of papers she had brought him, and beginning by laying the rolls of ma.n.u.script on the table back of him, as if disposing of them.

"You have seized on several things that we could not possibly wade through in one evening, but here is the sketch I spoke of. It is of camp-life, by the way, and so open to criticism from you two veterans.

It was suggested by a story I heard told at the Fort."

Just then a wild screech of terror sounded from the yard, and then an equally wild scramble across the porch. Everyone jumped to their feet, but Rachel reached the door first, just as Aunty Luce, almost gray from terror, floundered in.

"They's come!" she panted, in a sort of paralysis of fright and triumph of prophecy. "I done tole all you chillen! Injuns! right here--I seed 'em!"

Hardy reached for his gun, the others doing the same; but the girl at the door had darted out into the darkness.

"Rachel!" screamed Tillie, but no Rachel answered. Even Hardy's call was not heeded; and he followed her with something like an oath on his lips, and Stuart at his elbow.

Outside, it seemed very dark after the brightness within, and they stopped on the porch an instant to guide themselves by sound, if there was any movement.

There was--the least ominous of sounds--a laugh. The warlike att.i.tude of all relaxed somewhat, for it was so high and clear that it reached even those within doors; and then, outlined against the background of snow, Stuart and Hardy could see two forms near the gate--a tall and a short one, and the shorter one was holding to the sleeve of the other and laughing.

"You and Aunty Luce are a fine pair of soldiers," she was saying; "both beat a retreat at the first glimpse of each other. And you can't leave after upsetting everyone like this; you must come in the house and rea.s.sure them. Come on!"

Some remonstrance was heard, and at the sound of the voice Hardy stepped out.

"h.e.l.lo, Genesee!" he said, with a good deal of relief in his manner; "were you the scarecrow? Come in to the light, till we make sure we're not to be scalped."

After a few words with the girl that the others could not hear, he walked beside her to the porch.

"I'm mighty sorry, Hardy," he said as they met. "I was a little shaky about Mowitza to-day, and reckoned I'd better make an extra trip over; but I didn't count on kicking up a racket like this--didn't even spot the woman till she screeched and run."

"That's all right," said Hardy rea.s.suringly. "I'm glad you came, whether intentionally or by accident. You know I told you the other day--"

"Yes--I know."

Rachel and Stuart had entered the house ahead of them, and all had dropped back into their chosen points of vantage for the evening when a.s.surance was given that the Indians belonged to Aunty's imagination; but for those short seconds of indecision Tillie had realized, as never before, that they were really within the lines of the Indian country.

Aunty Luce settled herself sulkily in the corner, a grotesque figure, with an injured air, eyeing Genesee with a suspicion not a whit allayed when she recognized the man who had brought the first customs of war to them--taking nocturnal possession of the best room.

"No need tell me he's a friend o' you all!" she grunted. "Nice sort o'

friend you's comin' to, I say--lives with Injuns; reckon I heard--umph!"

This was an aside to Tillie, who was trying to keep her quiet, and not succeeding very well, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the others within hearing, especially Fred.

Genesee had stopped in the outer room, speaking with Hardy; and, standing together on the hearth, in the light of the fire, it occurred to the group in the other room what a fine pair they made--each a piece of physical perfection in his way.

"A pair of typical frontiersmen," said Murray, and Miss Fred was pleased to agree, and add some praise on her own account.

"Why, that man Genesee is really handsome," she whispered; "he isn't scowling like sin, as he was when I saw him before. Ask him in here, Mrs. Tillie; I like to look at him."

Mrs. Tillie had already made a movement toward him. Perhaps the steady, questioning gaze of Rachel had impelled her to follow what was really her desire, only--why need the man be so flagrantly improper? Tillie had a great deal of charity for black sheep, but she believed in their having a corral to themselves, and not allowing them the chance of s.m.u.tching the spotless flocks that have had good luck and escaped the mire. She was a good little woman, a warm-hearted one; and despite her cool condemnation of his wickedness when he was absent, she always found herself, in his presence, forgetting all but their comrades.h.i.+p of that autumn, and greeting him with the cordiality that belonged to it.