The Girl of the Golden West Part 24

"Good!" cried the Girl, delightedly, as she spied them. The next instant she was busily engaged in arranging them in her hair, pausing only to take a pistol out of her pocket, which she laid on the edge of the bureau. "No offence, Wowkle," she went on thoughtfully, a moment later, "but I want you to put your best foot forward when you're waitin' on table to-night. This here company o' mine's a man o' idees. Oh, he knows everythin'! Sort of a damme style."

Wowkle gave no sign of having heard her mistress' words, but kept right on tidying the room. Now she went over to the cupboard and took down two cups, which she placed on the fireplace base. It was while she was in the act of laying down the last one that the Girl broke in suddenly upon her thoughts with:

"Say, Wowkle, did Billy Jackrabbit really propose to you?"

"Yep--get marry," spoke up Jackrabbit's promised wife without looking up.

For some moments the Girl continued to fumble among her possessions in the bureau drawer; at last she brought forth an orange-coloured satin ribbon, which she placed in the Indian woman's hands with her prettiest smile, saying:

"Here, Wowkle, you can have that to fix up for the weddin'."

Wowkle's eyes glowed with appreciation.

"Huh!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, and proceeded to wind the ribbon about the beads around her neck.

Turning once more to the bureau, the Girl took out a small parcel done up in tissue paper and began to unwrap it.

"I'm goin' to put on them, if I can git 'em on," she said, displaying a pair of white satin slippers. The next instant she had plumped herself down upon the floor and was trying to encase her feet in a pair of slippers which were much too small for them. "Remember what fun I made o' you when you took up with Billy Jackrabbit?" suddenly she asked with a happy little smile. "What for? sez I. Well, p'r'aps you was right.

P'r'aps it's nice to have someone you really care for--who belongs to you. P'r'aps they ain't so much in the saloon business for a woman after all, and you don't know what livin' really is until--" She stopped abruptly and threw upon the floor the slipper that refused to give to her foot. "Oh, Wowkle," she went on, taking up the other slipper, "it's nice to have someone you can talk to, someone you can turn your heart inside out to."

At last she had succeeded in getting into one slipper and, rising, tried to stand in it; but it hurt her so frightfully that she immediately sank down upon the floor and proceeded to pat and rub and coddle her foot to ease the pain. It was while she was thus engaged that a knock came upon her cabin door.

"Oh, Lord, here he is!" she cried, panic-stricken, and began to drag herself hurriedly across the room with the intention of concealing herself behind the curtain at the foot of the bed; while Wowkle, with unusual celerity, made for the fire-place, where she stood with her back to the door, gazing into the fire.

The Girl had only gotten half-way across the room, however, when a voice a.s.sailed her ears.

"Miss, Miss, kin I--" came in low, subdued tones.

"What? The Sidney Duck?" she cried, turning and seeing his head poked through the window.

"Beg pardon, Miss; I know men ain't lowed up here nohow," humbly apologised that individual; "but, but--"

Vexed and fl.u.s.tered, the Girl turned upon him a trifle irritably with:

"Git! Git, I tell you!"

"But I'm in grite trouble, Miss," began The Sidney Duck, tearfully. "The boys are back--they missed that road agent Ramerrez and now they're taking it out of me. If--if you'd only speak a word for me, Miss."

"No--" began the Girl, and stopped. The next instant she ordered Wowkle to shut the window.

"Oh, don't be 'ard on me, Miss," whimpered the man.

The Girl flashed him a scornful look.

"Now, look here, Sidney Duck, there's one kind o' man I can't stand, an'

that's a cheat an' a thief, an' you're it," said the Girl, laying great stress upon her words. "You're no better'n that road agent Ramerrez, an'--"

"But, Miss--" interrupted the man.

"Miss nothin'!" snapped back the Girl, tugging away at the slippers; in desperation once more she ordered:

"Wowkle, close the winder! Close the winder!"

The Sidney Duck glowered at her. He had expected her intercession on his behalf and could not understand this new att.i.tude of hers toward him.

"Public 'ouse jide!" he retorted furiously, and slammed the window.

"Ugh!" snarled Wowkle, resentfully, her eyes full of fire.

Now at any other time, The Sidney Duck would have been made to pay dearly for his words, but either the Girl did not hear him, or if she did she was too engrossed to heed them; at any rate, the remark pa.s.sed unnoticed.

"I got it on!" presently exclaimed the Girl in great joy. Nevertheless, it was not without several ouches and moans that, finally, she stood upon her feet. "Say, Wowkle, how do you think he'll like 'em? How do they look? They feel awful!" she rattled on with a pained look on her face.

But whatever would have been the Indian woman's observation on the subject of tight shoes in general and those of her mistress in particular, she was not permitted to make it, for the Girl, now hobbling over towards the bureau, went on to announce with sudden determination:

"Say, Wowkle, I'm a-goin' the whole hog! Yes, I'm a-goin' the whole hog," she repeated a moment later, as she drew forth various bits of finery from a chest of drawers, with which she proceeded to adorn herself before the mirror. Taking out first a lace shawl of bold design, she drew it over her shoulders with the grace and ease of one who makes it an everyday affair rather than an occasional undertaking; then she took from a sweet-gra.s.s basket a vividly-embroidered handkerchief and saturated it with cologne, impregnating the whole room with its strong odour; finally she brought forth a pair of long, white gloves and began to stretch them on. "Does it look like an effort, Wowkle?" she asked, trying to get her hands into them.

"Ugh!" was the Indian woman's comment at the very moment that a knock came upon the door. "Two plates," she added with a groan, and started for the cupboard.

Meanwhile the Girl continued with her primping and preening, her hands flying back and forth like an automaton from her waist-line to her stockings. Suddenly another knock, this time more vigorous, more insistent, came upon the rough boards of the cabin door, which, finally, was answered by the Girl herself.

XI.

"h.e.l.lo!" sang out Johnson, genially, as he entered the Girl's cabin.

At once the Girl's audacity and spirit deserted her, and hanging her head she answered meekly, bashfully:

"h.e.l.lo!"

The man's eyes swept the Girl's figure; he looked puzzled, and asked:

"Are you--you going out?"

The Girl was plainly embarra.s.sed; she stammered in reply:

"Yes--no--I don't know--Oh, come on in!"

"Thank you," said Johnson in his best manner, and put down his lantern on the table. Turning now with a look of admiration in his eyes, at the same time trying to embrace her, he went on: "Oh, Girl, I'm so glad you let me come . . ."

His glance, his tone, his familiarity sent the colour flying to the Girl's cheeks; she flared up instantly, her blue eyes snapping with resentment:

"You stop where you are, Mr. Johnson."

"Ugh!" came from Wowkle, at that moment closing the door which Johnson had left ajar.