The Angel of the Gila Part 31

"Of course not. What made the animal run? Did you cut him with the whip?"

"Yes. I thought it'd be such fun to run away from you for calling me a gypsy."

He laughed. Then he looked grave.

Suddenly Esther Bright grew as cold as ice, and swayed in the saddle.

At last she was forced to say she was ill. Her companion dismounted and lifted her from the saddle.

"Why, how you tremble!" he was saying. "How cold you are!"

"Just fright," she replied, making an effort to rally. "I am ashamed of being scared. The fright has made me deathly sick." Even her lips were white. He seemed deeply concerned.

After a while her color returned, and she a.s.sured him that she was able to go on.

"But are you sure?" he asked, showing the deepest concern.

"Quite sure," she said, positively. "Come, let us go. I have given you enough trouble already."

"No trouble, I a.s.sure you."

He did not add that the very fact that she had needed a service from him was sufficient recompense.

Then they walked their horses homeward, talking of many things of common interest to them.

Down in the valley, the soft gray of the dead gramma gra.s.s was relieved by the great beds of evergreen cacti, yucca, and the greenery of the sage and mesquite. The late afterglow in the sky mingled with the purple haze that hung like an ethereal veil over the landscape.

They stopped their horses at a turn of the road commanding a fine view of the mountains.

"How beautiful the world is everywhere!" Esther said, half to herself.

"Especially in Arizona," said Kenneth, as he drew a deep invigorating breath.

Silence again.

"Miss Bright," he hesitated. "I believe the world would be beautiful to me anywhere, if you were there."

"You flatter," she said, lifting her hand as if to ward off what might follow.

"No flattery. Since you came, the whole world has seemed beautiful to me."

"I am glad if my coming has improved your vision," she said merrily.

"Come, we must hasten, or we'll be late for dinner. You are to dine with us to-night, I believe."

"Yes, Mrs. Clayton was so kind as to invite me."

Again her horse took the lead. Kenneth touched his with the whip, and overtook her. For some distance, the horses were neck and neck. As they came to a steep ascent, they slackened their pace.

Her eyes were sparkling, and she was in excellent spirits.

"If I were a better horsewoman," she said gayly, "I'd challenge you to a race."

"Why not, anyway?" he suggested. "There are no more gulches."

"I might not be able to stick on."

"We'll try it," he responded, encouragingly, "over the next level stretch."

So try it they did. They flew like the wind. The cool evening air, the excitement of the race, the rich afterglow in the heavens,--all were exhilarating. On they sped, on and on, till they turned into the canyon road. Again Esther's horse led, but Kenneth soon overtook her, and then their horses walked slowly on together the rest of the way.

"I wonder if you are as happy as I am," he said, as he a.s.sisted her from the saddle.

"I am in the positive degree of happiness," she said, cheerily. "I am always happy except when shadowed by someone else's sorrow."

He said something to her about bearing all her future sorrows for her, adding:

"That is becoming the dearest wish of my heart."

"All must meet sorrow sometime," she responded gravely. "I hope to meet mine with fort.i.tude when it comes."

She stood stroking the horse's neck.

"I wish I might help you to bear it when it comes. Oh, Miss Bright,"

he said, earnestly, "I wish I could make you realize how I honor you--and dare I say it?--how I love you! I wish you would try to understand me. I am not trifling. I am in earnest." He looked at her downcast face.

"I will try," she said, looking up frankly, with no trace of coquetry in her voice or manner.

There had been moments when Kenneth's love for Esther had led him to speak dearer words to her than her apparent interest in him would warrant. At such times she would retire within herself, surrounded by an impenetrable reserve. Kenneth Hastings was the only one she ever treated icily. One day he would be transported to the seventh heaven; another, he would sink to the deeps of gloom.

It was several days after this ride that he chanced to meet Esther in the path along the river road. He stopped her, and asked abruptly:

"Why do you treat me so frigidly sometimes?"

"Do I?" she asked in surprise.

He remained silent.

"Do I?" she said, repeating her question.

"Yes, you do. Why do you treat me so?"

She looked distressed.

"I didn't realize I had treated you discourteously, Mr. Hastings. If I did, it was because I am afraid of you."

"Preposterous! Afraid of me!" Now he was smiling.

"Perhaps--" As she hesitated, she looked up at him in an appealing manner.

"Perhaps what?"