Desert Dust Part 18

"Oh!" she breathed. Her hand darted for the pocket in her skirt, but I sprang between the two. Forgetful of my revolver, remembering only what I had witnessed--a woman struck by a man--with a blow I sent him reeling backward.

He recovered; every vestige of color had left his face, except for the spot where I had landed; his hat had sprung aside from the shock--his gray eyes, contrasted with his black hair, fastened upon my eyes almost deliberately and his upper lip lifted over set white teeth. With lightning movement he thrust the fingers of his right hand into his waistcoat pocket.

I heard a rush of feet, a clamor of voices; and all the while, which seemed interminable, I was tugging, awkward with deadly peril, at my revolver. His fingers had whipped free of the pocket, I glimpsed as with second sight (for my eyes were held strongly by his) the twin little black muzzles of a derringer concealed in his palm; a spasm of fear pinched me; they spurted, with ringing report, but just at the instant a flanneled arm knocked his arm up, the ball had sped ceiling-ward and the teamster of the gaming table stood against him, revolver barrel boring into his very stomach.

"Stand pat, Mister. I call you."

In a trice all entry of any unpleasant emotion vanished from my antagonist's handsome face, leaving it olive tinted, cameo, inert. He steadied a little, and smiled, surveying the teamster's visage, close to his.

"You have me covered, sir. My hand is in the discard." He composedly tucked the derringer into his waistcoat pocket again. "That gentleman struck me; he was about to draw on me, and by rights I might have killed him. My apologies for this little disturbance."

He bestowed a challenging look upon me, a hard unforgiving look upon the lady; with a bow he turned for his hat, and stepping swiftly went back to his table.

Now in the reaction I fought desperately against a trembling of the knees; there were congratulations, a hubbub of voices a.s.sailing me--and the arm of the teamster through mine and his bluff invitation:

"Come and have a drink."

"But you'll return. You must. I want to speak with you."

It was My Lady, pleading earnestly. I still could scarcely utter a word; my brain was in a smother. My new friend moved me away from her. He answered for me.

"Not until we've had a little confab, lady. We've got matters of importance jest at present."

I saw her bite her lips, as she helplessly flushed; her blue eyes implored me, but I had no will of my own and I certainly owed a measure of courtesy to this man who had saved my life.

CHAPTER IX

I ACCEPT AN OFFER

We found a small table, one of the several devoted to refreshments for the dancers, in a corner and unoccupied. The affair upon the floor was apparently past history--if it merited even that distinction. The place had resumed its program of dancing, playing and drinking as though after all a pistol shot was of no great moment in the Big Tent.

"You had a narrow shave," my friend remarked as we seated ourselves--I with a sigh of grat.i.tude for the opportunity. "If you can't draw quicker you'd better keep your hands in your pockets. Let's have a dose of t'rant'lar juice to set you up." Whereupon he ordered whiskey from a waiter.

"But I couldn't stand by and see him strike a woman," I defended.

"Wall, fists mean guns, in these diggin's. Where you from?"

"Albany, New York State."

"I sized you up as a pilgrim. You haven't been long in camp, either, have you?"

"No. But plenty long enough," I miserably replied.

"Long enough to be plucked, eh?"

We had drunk the whiskey. Under its warming influence my tongue loosened.

Moreover there was something strong and kindly in the hearty voice and the rough face of this rudely clad plainsman, black bearded to the piercing black eyes.

"Yes; of my last cent."

"All at gamblin', mebbe?"

"No. Only a little, but that strapped me. The hotel had robbed me of practically everything else."

"Had, had it? Wall, what's the story?"

I told him of the hotel part; and he nodded.

"Sh.o.r.e. You can't hold the hotel responsible. You can leave stuff loose in regular camp; n.o.body enters flaps without permission. But a room is a different proposition. I'd rather take chances among Injuns than among white men. Why, you could throw in with a Sioux village for a year and not be robbed permanent if the chief thought you straight; but in a white man's town--h.e.l.l! Now, how'd you get tangled up with this other outfit?"

"Which?" I queried.

"That brace outfit I found you with."

"The fellow is a stranger to me, sir," said I. "I simply was foolish enough to stake what little I had on a sure thing--I was bamboozled into following the lead of the rest of you," I reminded. "Now I see that there was a trick, although I don't yet understand. After that the fellow a.s.saulted the lady, my companion, and you stepped in--for which, sir, I owe you more thanks than I can utter."

"A trick, you think?" He opened his hairy mouth for a gust of short laughter. "My Gawd, boy! We were nicely took in, and we desarved it. When you buck the tiger, look out for his claws. But I reckoned he'd postpone the turn till next time. He would have, if you fellers hadn't come down so handsome with the dust. I stood pat, at that. So, you notice, did the capper, your other friend."

"The capper? Which was he, sir?"

"Why, Lord bless you, son. You're the greenest thing this side of Omyha. A capper touched him on the shoulder, a capper bent that there card, a capper tolled you all on with a dollar or two, and another capper fed the come-ons to his table. Aye, she's a purty piece. Where'd you meet up with her?"

"With her?" I gasped.

"Yes, yes. The woman; the main steerer. That purty piece who d.a.m.n nigh lost you your life as well as losin' you your money."

"You mean the lady with the blue eyes, in black?"

"Yes, the golden hair. Lady! Oh, pshaw! Where'd she hook you? At the door?"

"You shall not speak of her in that fas.h.i.+on, sir," I answered. "We were together on the train from Omaha. She has been kindness itself. The only part she has played to-night, as far as I can see, was to chaperon me here in the Big Tent; and whatever small winnings I had made, for amus.e.m.e.nt, was due to her and the skill of an acquaintance named Jim."

"Jim Daily, yep. O' course. And she befriended you. Why, d'you suppose?"

"Perhaps because I was of some a.s.sistance to her on the way out West. I had a little setto with Mr. Daily, when he annoyed her while he was drunk.

But sobered up, he seemed to wish to make amends."

"Oh, Lord!" My friend's mouth gaped. "Amends? Yep. That's his nature.

Might call it mendin' his pocket and his lip. And you don't yet savvy that your 'lady' 's Montoyo's wife--his woman, anyhow?"

"Montoyo? Who's Montoyo?"

"The monte thrower. That same spieler who trimmed us," he rapped impatiently.