The Girl of the Golden West Part 10

"Here, you, Billy Jackrabbit! What are you doin' here?" she exclaimed sharply, causing that generally imperturbable redskin to start perceptibly. "Did you marry my squaw yet?"

Billy Jackrabbit's face wore as stolid an expression as ever, when he answered:

"Not so much married squaw--yet."

"Not so much married . . ." repeated the Girl when the merriment, which his words provoked, had subsided. "Come 'ere, you thievin' redskin!" And when he had slid up to the bar, and she had extracted from his pockets a number of cigars which she knew had been pilfered, she added: "You git up to my cabin an' marry my squaw before I git there." And at another emphatic "Git!" the Indian, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of all, started for the Girl's cabin.

"Here--here's your prairie oyster, Sonora," at last said the Girl; and then turning to the Sheriff and speaking to him for the first time, she called out gaily: "h.e.l.lo, Rance!"

"h.e.l.lo, Girl!" replied the Gambler without even a glance at her or ceasing to shuffle the cards.

Presently, Sonora pulled out a bag of gold-dust and told the Girl to clear the slate out of it. She was in the act of taking the sack when Nick, rus.h.i.+ng into the room and jerking his thumb over his shoulder, said:

"Say, Girl, there's a fellow in there wants to know if we can help out on provisions."

"Sure; what does he want?" returned the Girl with a show of willingness to accommodate him.

"Bread."

"Bread? Does he think we're runnin' a bakery?"

"Then he asked for sardines."

"Sardines? Great Gilead! You tell 'im we have nothin' but straight provisions here. We got pickled oysters, smokin' tobacco an' the best whisky he ever saw," rapped out the Girl, proudly, and turned her attention to the slate.

"You bet!" vouched Trinidad with a nod, as Nick departed on his errand.

Finally, the Girl, having made her calculations, opened the counter drawer and brought forth some silver Mexican dollars, saying:

"Sonora, an' Mr. Ashby, your change!"

Ashby picked up his money, only to throw it instantly back on the bar, and say gallantly:

"Keep the change--buy a ribbon at The Ridge--compliments of Wells Fargo."

"Thank you," smiled the Girl, sweeping the money into the drawer, but her manner showed plainly that it was not an unusual thing for the patrons of The Polka to refuse to accept the change.

Not to be outdone, Sonora quickly arose and went over to the counter where, pointing to his stack of silver dollars, he said:

"Girl, buy two ribbons at The Ridge;" and then with a significant glance towards Ashby, he added: "Fawn's my colour."

And again, as before, the voice that said, "Thank you," was colourless, while her eyes rested upon the ubiquitous Nick, who had entered with an armful of wood and was intent upon making the room warmer.

Rance snorted disapprovingly at Sonora's prodigality. That he considered that both his and Ashby's attentions to the Girl had gone far enough was made apparent by the severe manner in which he envisaged them and drawled out:

"Play cyards?"

But to that gentleman's surprise the men did not move. Instead, Ashby raising a warning finger to the Girl, went on to advise that she should bank with them oftener, concluding with:

"And then if this road agent Ramerrez should drop in, you won't lose so much--"

"The devil you say!" cut in Sonora; while Trinidad broke out into a scornful laugh.

"Oh, go on, Mr. Ashby!" smilingly scoffed the Girl. "I keep the specie in an empty keg now. But I've took to bankin' personally in my stockin'," she confided without the slightest trace of embarra.s.sment.

"But say, we've got an awful pile this month," observed Nick, anxiously, leaving the fireplace and joining the little ring of men about her. "It makes me sort o' nervous--why, Sonora's got ten thousand alone fer safe keepin' in that keg an'--"

"--Ramerrez' band's everywhere," completed Ashby with a start, his quick and trained ear having caught the sound of horses' hoofs.

"But if a road agent did come here, I could offer 'im a drink an' he'd treat me like a perfect lady," contended the Girl, confidently.

"You bet he would, the durned old halibut!" was Sonora's comment, while Nick took occasion to ask the Girl for some tobacco.

"Solace or Honeydew?" she inquired, her hands already on the a.s.sortment of tobacco underneath the bar.

"Dew," was Nick's laconic answer.

And then it was that the Girl heard for the first time the sound of the galloping hoofs; startled for the moment, she inquired somewhat uneasily:

"Who's this, I wonder?"

But no sooner were the words spoken than a voice outside in the darkness sung out sharply:

"h.e.l.lo!"

"h.e.l.lo!" instantly returned another voice, which the Girl recognised at once as being that of the Deputy.

"Big holdup last night at The Forks!" the first voice was now saying.

"Holdup!" repeated several voices outside in tones of excitement.

"Ramerrez--" went on the first voice, at which ominous word all, including Ashby, began to exchange significant glances as they echoed:

"Ramerrez!"

The name had barely died on their lips, however, than Nick precipitated himself into their midst and announced that The Pony Express had arrived, handing up to the Girl, at the same time, a bundle of letters and one paper.

"You see!" maintained Ashby, stoutly, as he watched her sort the letters; "I was right when I told you . . ."

"Look sharp! There's a greaser on the trail!" rang out warningly the voice of The Pony Express.

"A greaser!" exclaimed Rance, for the first time showing any interest in the proceedings; and then without looking up and after the manner of a man speaking to a good dog, he told the Deputy, who had followed Nick into the room:

"Find him, Dep."

For some time the Girl occupied herself with cas.h.i.+ng in the chips which Nick brought to her--a task which she performed with amazing correctness and speed considering that her knowledge of the science of mathematics had been derived solely from the handling of money at The Polka. Now she went over to Sonora, who sat at a table reading.

"You got the newspaper, I see," she observed. "But you, Trin, I'm sorry you ain't got nothin'," she added, with a sad, little smile.