The Gold Girl Part 28

"Don't you go wastin' any sympathy on that old renegade," cut in Vil.

"That's right," laughed Christie, noting the genuine concern in the girl's eyes. "As a matter of fact, I have in mind a subst.i.tute who will be tickled to death to learn that she is to have the regular position. Didn't I tell you out at the Samuelsons' that I had a hunch you'd make your strike before school time? Of course, everyone knows that Vil is the one who made the real strike, but you'll find that the claim you've staked isn't so bad, and that after you get down through the surface, you will run onto a whole lot of pure gold."

Patty who had been regarding him with a slightly puzzled expression suddenly caught his allusion, and she smiled happily into the face of her cowboy. "I've already found pure gold," she said, "and it lies mighty close to the surface."

In the little church after the hastily summoned witnesses had departed, the Reverend Len Christie stood holding a hand of each.

"Never in my life have I performed a clerical office that gave me so much genuine happiness and satisfaction," he announced.

"Me, neither," a.s.sented Vil Holland, heartily, and, then--"Hold on, Len. You're too blame young an' good lookin' for such tricks--an'

besides, I've never kissed her, myself, yet----!"

"Where will it be now?" asked Holland, when they found themselves once more upon the street.

"Home--dear," whispered his wife. "You know we've got to get that cabin up before snow flies--our cabin, Vil--with the porch that will look out over the snows of the changing lights."

"If the whole town didn't have their heads out the window, watchin' us I'd kiss you right here," he answered, and strode off to lead her horse up beside his own.

Swinging her into the saddle, he was about to mount Lightning, when she leaned over and raised the brown leather jug on its thong. "Why, it's empty!" she exclaimed.

"So it is," agreed Holland, with mock concern.

"Really, Vil, I don't care--so much. If it don't hurt men any more than it has hurt you, I won't quarrel with it. I'll wait while you get it filled."

"Maybe I'd better," he said, and swinging it from the saddle horn, crossed the street and entered the general store. A few minutes later he returned and swung the jug into place.

"Why! Do they sell whisky at the store? I thought you got that at a saloon."

"Whisky!" The man looked up in surprise. "This jug never held any whisky! It's my vinegar jug. I don't drink."

Patty stared at him in amazement. "Do you mean to tell me you carry a jug of vinegar with you wherever you go?"

For the first time since she had known him she saw that his eyes were twinkling, and that his lips were very near a smile. "No, not exactly, but, you see, that first time I met you I happened to be riding from town with this jug full of vinegar. I noticed the look you gave it, an' it tickled me most to death. So, after that, every time I figured I'd meet up with you I brought the jug along. I'd pour out the vinegar an' fill it up with water, an' sometimes I'd just pack it empty--then when I'd hit town, I'd get it filled again. I bet Johnson, over there, thinks I'm picklin' me a winter's supply of p.r.i.c.kly pears. I must have bought close to half a barrel of vinegar this summer."

"Vil Holland! You carried that jug--went to all that trouble, just to--to _tease_ me?"

"That's about the size of it. An' Gos.h.!.+ How you hated that jug."

"It might have--it nearly did, make me hate _you_, too."

"'Might have,' an' 'nearly,' an' 'if,' are all words about alike--they all sort of fall short of amountin' to anythin'. It 'might have'--but, somehow, things don't work out that way. The only thing that counts is, it didn't."

Out on the trail they met Watts riding toward town. "Wher's Microby?"

he asked, addressing Patty.

"Microby! I haven't seen Microby since early this morning. She was riding down a coulee not far from Vil's camp."

"Didn't yo' send for her?"

"I certainly did not!"

The man's hand fumbled at his beard. "Bethune was along last evenin'

an' hed a talk with her, an' then he done tol' Ma yo' wanted Microby should come up to yo' place, come daylight. When I heern it, I mistrusted yo' wouldn't hev no truck with Bethune, so after I done the ch.o.r.es, I rode up ther'. They wasn't no one to hum." The simple-minded man looked worried. "Bethune, he could do anything he wants with her.

She thinks he's grand--but, I know different. Then I met up with Lord Clendennin' in the canyon, an' he tol' me how Bethune wus headin' fer Canady. He said, had I lost anythin'. An' I said 'no,' an' he laffed an' says he guess that's right."

As Vil Holland listened, his eyes hardened, and at the conclusion, something very like an oath ground from his lips. Patty glanced at him in surprise--never before had she seen him out of poise.

"You go back home," he advised Watts, in a kindly tone, "to the wife and the kids. I'll find Microby for you!"

When the man had pa.s.sed from sight into the dip of a coulee, Vil leaned over and, drawing his wife close to his breast, kissed her lips again and again. "It's too bad, little girl, that our honeymoon's got to be broke into this way, but you remember I told you once that if I won you'd have to be satisfied with what you got. You didn't know what I meant, then, but you know, now--an' I'm goin' to win again! I'm goin' to find that child! The poor little fool!" Patty saw that his eyes were flas.h.i.+ng, and his voice sounded hard:

"You ride back to town and tell Len to get his white goods together an' ride back with you to Watts's. There's goin' to be a funeral--or better yet, a weddin' _an'_ a funeral in it for him by this time to-morrow, or my name ain't Vil Holland!" And then, abruptly, he turned and rode into the North.

A wild impulse to overtake him and dissuade him from his purpose took possession of the girl. But the thought of Microby in the power of Bethune, and of the sorrowing face of poor Watts stayed her. She saw her husband hitch his belt forward and swiftly look to his six-gun, and as the sound of galloping hoofs grew fainter, she watched his diminis.h.i.+ng figure until it was swallowed up in the distance.

Impulsively she stretched out her arms to him: "Good luck to you, my knight!" she called, but the words ended in a sob, and she turned her horse and, with a vast happiness in her heart, rode back toward the town.

THE END.