The "Wild West" Collection. William MacLeod Raine
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question.
She knew the type of fellow who was rigging up the canoe, a light-headed, assuming specimen, who had not yet learned to keep a still tongue in his head, but he did not impress her as being a deliberate liar. Then, all at once, she realized who he must be, and turned back. There was no harm in asking that, at any rate.
"You are the man whom Overton sent to put Harris to bed last night, are you not?" she asked.
He nodded, cheerfully.
"And your name is Jake Emmons, of the Spokane country?"
"Thet's who," he assented; "that's where I came across Lottie Snyder, Overton's wife, you know. I was running a little stage there for a manager, and she--"
"I am not asking you about--about Mr. Overton's affairs," she said, and she sat down, white and dizzy, on the overturned canoe. "And he might not like it if he knew you were talking so free. Don't do it again."
"All right," he agreed. "I won't. No one here seems to know about the bad break he made over there; but, Lord! there was excuse enough. She is one of those women that look just like a little helpless baby; and that caught Overton. Young, you know. But I won't whisper her name in camp again, for it is hard on the old man. But, as you are partners, I guessed you must know."
"Yes," she said, faintly; "but don't talk, don't--"
"Say! You are sick, ain't you?" he demanded, as her voice dropped to a whisper. "Say! Look here, Miss Rivers! Great snakes! She's fainted!"
When she opened her eyes again, the rough roof of her cabin was above her, instead of the blue sky. The women folks were using the camp restorative--whisky--on her to such good purpose that her hands and face and hair were redolent of it, and the amount she had been forced to swallow was strangling her.
The face she saw first was that of Max--Max, distressed and anxious, and even a little pale at sight of her death-like face.
She turned to him as to a haven of refuge from the storm of emotion under which she had fallen prostrate.
It was all settled now--settled forever. She had heard the worst, and knew she must go away--away from where she must see that one man, and be filled with humiliation if ever she met his gaze. A man with a wife somewhere--a man into whose arms she had crept!
"Are you in pain?" asked Miss Lavina, as 'Tana groaned and shut her eyes tight, as if to bar out memory.
"No--nothing ails me. I was without a hat, and the sun on my head made me sick, I suppose," she answered, and arose on her elbow. "But I am not going to be a baby, to be watched and carried around any more. I am going to get up."
Just outside her door Overton stood; and when he heard her voice again, with its forced independent words, he walked away content that she was again herself.
"I am going to get up," she continued. "I am going away from here to-morrow or next day--and there are things to do. Help me, Max."
"Best thing you can do is to lie still an hour or two," advised Mrs. Huzzard, but the girl shook her head.
"No, I'm going to get up," she said, with grim decision; and when Lyster offered his hand to help her, she took it, and, standing erect, looked around at the couch.
"That is the last time I'm going to be thrown on you for any such fool cause," she said, whimsically. "Who toted me in here--you?"
"I? Not a bit of it," confessed Lyster. "Dan reached you before any of the others knew you were ill. He carried you up here."
"He? Oh!" and she shivered a little. "I want to talk to Harris. Max, come with me."
He went wonderingly, for he could see she was excited and nervous. Her hand trembled as it touched his, but her mouth was set so firmly over the little white teeth that he knew it was better to humor her than fret her by persuading her to rest.
But once beside Harris, she sat a long time in silence, looking out from the doorway across the level now active with the men of the works. Not until the two cousins had walked across to their other shelter did she speak, and then it was to Harris.
"Joe, I am sick," she confessed; "not sick with the fever, but heartsick and headsick. You know how and maybe why."
He nodded his head, and looked at Lyster questioningly.
"And I've come in here to tell you something. Max, you won't mind. He can't talk, but knows me better than you do, I guess; for I've come to him before when I was troubled, and I want to tell him what you said to me in the boat."
Max stared at her, but silently agreed when he saw she was in earnest. He even reached out his hand to take hers, but she drew away.
"Wait till I tell him," she said, and turned to the helpless man in the chair. "He asked me to marry him--some day. Would it be right for me to say yes?"
"'Tana!" exclaimed Lyster; but she raised her hand pleadingly.
"I haven't any other person in the world I could go to and ask," she said. "He knows me better than you do, Max, and I--Oh! I don't think I should be always contented with your ways of living. I was born different--a heap different. But to-day it seems as if I am not strong enough to do without--some one--who likes me, and I do want to say 'yes' to you, yet I'm afraid it is only because I am sick at heart and lonely."
It was a declaration likely to cool the ardor of most lovers, but Lyster reached out his hand to her and laughed.
"Oh, you dear girl," he said, fondly. "Did your conscience make it necessary for you to confess in this fashion? Now listen. You are weak and nervous; you need some one to look after you. Doesn't she, Harris? Well, take me on trial. I will devote myself to your interests for six months, and if at the end of that time you find that it was only sickness and loneliness that ailed you, and not liking me, then I give you my word I'll never try to hold you to a promise. You will be well and strong by that time, and I'll stand by the decision you make then. Will you say 'yes,' now?"
She looked at Harris, who nodded his head. Then she turned and gave her hand to Max.
"Yes," she said. "But if you should be sorry--"
"Not another word," he commanded; "the 'yes' is all I want to hear just now; when I get sorry I'll let you know."
And that is the way their engagement began.
CHAPTER XXI.
LAVINA AND THE CAPTAIN.
As the day wore on, 'Tana became more nervous and restless. With the dark, that man was to come for the gold she had promised.
Lyster brought it to her, part in money, part in free gold, and as he laid it on the couch, she looked at him strangely.
"How much you trust me when you never even ask what I am to do with all this!" she said. "Yet it is enough to surprise you."
"Yes, it is," he agreed. "But when you are ready you will tell me."
"No, I will not tell you," she answered, "but it is the last thing--I think--that I will keep from you, Max. It is a debt that belongs to days before I knew you. What did Overton say?"
"Not much, maybe he will leave for the upper works this evening or to-morrow morning."
"Did you--did you tell him--"
"That you are going to belong to me? Well, no, I did not. You forgot to give me permission."
Her face flushed shyly at his words.
"You must think me a queer girl, Max," she said. "And you are so good and patient with me, in spite of my queer ways. But, never mind; they will not last always, I hope."
"Which?--my virtues or your queerness?" he asked.
She only smiled and pushed the gold under the pillow.
"Go away now for a little while. I want to rest."
"Well, rest if you like; but don't think. You have been fretting over some little personal troubles until you fancy them heavy enough to overbalance