by Charles King
CHAPTER X.
"Three mortal hours," said Miss Folsom to her fond little school friendand chum that afternoon, "have I had to sit or stroll with or listen toMajor Burleigh. I never once was able to enjoy the view. What made himhurry us away from the northeast point, do you suppose?"
"Did you notice that, Nell? I did, too, and I was so interested in theview. Away up toward Laramie Peak I could see something through theglasses that looked like a lot of little ants crawling along together.It was just after that--just after we looked through the glass, that hemarched us round to the other side. The view toward Green River isn'thalf as pretty."
"And now he's telling some interminable story to father over theircigars. What shall we do if he hangs on? Father will have to ask him todrive with us to the fort, and there won't be room."
"Unless Mrs. Fletcher gives up her seat," said Jessie demurely.
"Mrs. Fletcher isn't going. A very different person takes her seatto-day, Jess. Father left a note for Mr. Loomis at the hotel and heaccepted. Now you see why I don't want Major Burleigh."
It was then long after three o'clock. At five they were to start andJessie could hardly curb her impatience. The mail from Frayne, so saidFolsom, would arrive that evening, and then surely there would be newsof Marshall. They had slipped away to their rooms after the bountifulluncheon served on their return, in order, as "Pappoose" expressed it,that the gentlemen might have t-heir cigars in peace. Mrs. Fletcher,after seeing that everything was prepared, had directed the servant tosay to Mr. Folsom, on the return of the party, that she would prefer notto appear, and would be glad to keep her room, as she did not feel it atall necessary for the housekeeper to meet strangers, and Folsom felt asense of relief. It was so much sweeter not to have any presiding geniusother than Pappoose, not that he was forgetful of Mrs. Fletcher's meritsand services--which were great--but it was plain to see that hisdaughter would have been happier had no such office existed as thatcreated for this deserving and destitute widow. At three Miss Folsom hadgone and tapped at the lady's door--her room was in the third storyoverlooking the street--and was very civilly assured that Mrs. Fletcherstood in need of nothing, but, being wearied, she would like a littlesleep. No, she did not even care for a cup of tea. Yet Elinor feltconfident that the voice that replied to her inquiries came neither fromthe bed nor the lounge, but from the direction of the front window.
At three the cigars were smoked out and the host and his guest were inthe library. It was Folsom's custom, when a possible thing, to take abrief nap after the midday meal, and Elinor felt sure he would be gladof the opportunity now, if Burleigh would only go, but Burleighwouldn't. In monotonous monologue his voice came floating up to thesecond floor, drowsy, unbroken in its soporific flow, and the girlsthemselves, after the morning's drive in the clear, bracing air, felt asthough forty winks would be a blessing. Could it be that Burleighlingered on in hopes of their reappearance below? Might it not be thatif relief came not speedily Papa Folsom would yield to the spell andfall asleep in his easy-chair? Was it not Miss Folsom's duty to descendand take the burden of entertainment off those elder shoulders? Thesethoughts oppressed the girl, and starting up, she cried:
"It's simply wicked of me staying here and letting poor papa be bored todeath. Do come down, Jess, dear, unless you're dreadfully sleepy. Heacts just as though he intended never to go."
And Jess promised reluctantly to come down in ten minutes, if he didn'tleave; but she hated him, and had hated him ever since he spoke so ofMarshall in the car three days before.
The upper hall had been quite dark when Miss Folsom went up to inquirehow Mrs. Fletcher was just after luncheon. The door to her little roomwas tightly closed. The blinds in all the other rooms aloft were drawnagainst the glare of the sunshine in the cloudless atmosphere; yet now,as Pappoose stepped suddenly out upon the landing, she was surprised tosee that the upper floor was much lighter than when she went up half anhour earlier. The maid had not gone thither from the kitchen, and Mrs.Fletcher wished to doze. Who, then, could have opened both blind anddoor and let in that flood of light? Impulsively the active girl flew upthe winding stairs to the third story, and some one suddenly withdrewfrom the balcony rail, and an instant later, as Miss Folsom reached thetop, all became dark again. Mrs. Fletcher's door had unquestionably beenopen, and was now shut to. She must have been out there listening, andgravely the young girl asked herself what it meant--Mrs. Fletcher'sagitation in the library that morning as she peered out at the major'swagon; her absence from luncheon on account, as she pleaded, of notdesiring to appear when company was present; and now, despite her desireto sleep, her vigil at the third-floor landing, where she was surelylistening to the sounds from below.
Pondering over the facts, Elinor Folsom slowly retraced her steps andwent downstairs. She reached the library none too soon. Old John's eyeswere closed, and he was slowly toppling, over come with sleep. The soundof her cheery voice aroused him, and he started, guilty and crestfallen.
Burleigh's heavy face brightened visibly at her coming. He cared no morefor music than does a cat, but eagerly followed her across the broadhall into the parlor when she suggested showing him the beautiful pianopapa had given her; and old John, blessing her, lurched for the sofa,buried his hot head in a pillow, and was asleep in ten seconds. MajorBurleigh was alone with the lovely daughter of the veteran trader. Hewas a man of the world; she an unsophisticated girl just out ofschool--so said Burleigh, albeit a most charming one; and he, who hadmonopolized her time the entire morning, bore down once more upon hisprize.
She had seated herself at the piano, and her long, taper fingers wererippling over the keys. She knew full well he did not care what sheplayed, and as for herself she did not care just then to play at all.She was thinking of his insinuation at Marshall Dean's expense. She wasstill pondering over Mrs. Fletcher's stealthy scrutiny of thequartermaster's team. On these two accounts, and no other, he waspossessed of certain interest in Elinor's dark-brown eyes, and they werestudying him coolly, searchingly, as he drew a chair near the pianostool, and seated himself and met her look with a broad, encouragingsmile.
Trill and ripple, ripple and trill her white fingers raced over thekeyboard.
"I'm sure you know this waltz, major," she was saying. "They played itbeautifully at the Point two summers ago."
"I--ah, yes, it's a charming composition--charming, though I don'trecall it's name just now."
"This? why it's one of Godfrey's--'The Hilda,' don't you know? I'm sureyou waltz, major."
"I--ah, used to, yes. I was very fond of a waltz," answered Burleigh,whose best efforts in that line could result in nothing better than awaddle. "But of late years I--I--since my bereavement--have practicallywithdrawn from society." Then, with a languishing smile, he added, "Ishall be tempted to re-enter the list now," and the major drew his chairnearer by full an inch, and prepared to be further "killing."
"Jessie dances divinely," said Miss Folsom. "She simply floats round aroom. You should see her waltz with her brother, Major Burleigh. Theymight be waltzing here this very minute if he were only home. What canhave detained him, do you think?"
"I wish I knew," said the quartermaster slowly. "It makes those whoare--ah--his friends, you know, anxious in more ways than one, becausethere is--er--nothing to warrant delay--nothing to--excuse it. Heshould, in fact, have been at his post, where his troop is sorelyneeded, full four days ago," and Burleigh looked heavy with portent.
"Is it not possible that he has found something along the lowerLaramie--something where his troop is needed much more than here doingstable guard?"
"How can it be possible?" said Burleigh. "The only thing to warrant hisdelay would be Indians, and there are none south of the Platte; or horsethieves, and they hung the last of the gang three months ago. Mr. Dean,I--ah--regret to say, is fonder of fishing and hunting than of hislegitimate duties, and this, I fear, is why he is not here to welcomehis sister."
The piano went rippling on, but the brown eyes kept up th
eir steadygaze. In the deep bass chords now her slender fingers were entangled.Slowly and thoughtfully the rich melody swung in the proud waltz rhythmthrough the airy room and floated out upon the summer breeze. A littleline was setting deep between the dark, arching eyebrows, a symptomPappoose's schoolmates had learned to note as a signal for danger, butBurleigh knew her not, as yet.
"It is odd," said she dreamily, "that at the Point the officers spoke sohighly of Mr. Dean, and here you seem to think so differently of him. Itis a deep disappointment to his sister that he is not here; but, do youknow, major, we were saying only this morning before you came that therewas some excellent reason for his delay, and we'd know it within anotherday."
"Oh, ah--er--of course I hope so. I think, pardon me, that that must bea messenger from my office now," for spurred boot-heels were comingbriskly up the wooden walk. There was a bounding step on the piazza, aring at the bell. The servant bustled through the hall and threw openthe door. It was not a messenger from the depot, but a stalwart,sunburnt man in rough ranch garb, who whipped off his broad-brimmed hatand stood abashed within the hall as he asked for Mr. Folsom.
And all of a sudden over went the piano-stool with a crash, and out intothe hall, joyous, bounding, light as a fairy, a vision of dark, girlishbeauty, went Pappoose.
"Why, Ned Lannion!" she cried, as she seized the swarthy young fellow'shands and shook them up and down "Don't you know me--Winona that used tobe? Why, how well you look! When did you leave the ranch? How did youleave them? Is Hal here--or coming?"
And at sound of her voice old Folsom had started up from his sofa andcame trotting out into the hall, just roused from his sleep, andblinking a bit as he, too, held forth cordial, welcoming hands. It was amoment before they could let Ned tell his story, and then it came byjerks.
"We left there early yesterday morning, mum. They're all well now, 'ceptJake, and he'll come out all right, but we had a close call. A war partyof Sioux jumped as Wednesday afternoon, and they'd a got away with usbut for Lieutenant Dean and his troop. They come along just in time----"
"Ned!" gasped Elinor, "you don't mean they attacked the ranch?"
"No'me. We was down the Lar'mie--rounding up horses. There was a dozenbucks in the party. It's the first time they've come across in a yearthat I know of, and they won't be apt to try it again. We shot two of'em and the cavalry drove 'em a running fight, so hard that they had toleave one of their wounded behind them. He died in a minute. Itwas--" and then Ned Lannion gulped and stumbled and choked inembarrassment.
"Who was it?" demanded Mr. Folsom, his rugged face pale and twitching,his eyes full of anxiety.
"Chaska, sir. _You_ know."
Folsom gripped him by the shoulder. "And Burning Star--did you see him?Was he there?"
"Yes, sir; but those boys of Lieutenant Dean's gave them a lickin'they'll never forget. The ranch is safe as if it was here in Gate City,only Hal he couldn't come himself, and he knowed you'd be anxious forfull particulars, so he sent me in with the cavalry. They're out at thefort now."
"Jessie!" cried Elinor, in delight that overmastered the emotion withwhich she had listened to the tale of her brother's recent peril.Marshall's here--almost home. It's just as we said, Jess. Do come down.He was there just in time to save my brother's life--to drive theIndians back to the river. Come quick--I want to hug you!" And her darkeyes, flashing with joy and excitement, danced full upon the bulky formof the major, slowly issuing from the parlor door, then beyond as shewent bounding by him, all eagerness to clasp her bonny friend in herarms, and shower her with congratulations. And so it happened that boththe girls were at the rear of the hall entwined in each other's arms atthe foot of the stairs when the ranchman answered Folsom's nextquestion, and then broke out with the abrupt announcement, "I never seea young officer handle his men better. We'd all been in hell by thistime if it wasn't for him, yet, by God, sir, the moment he got into thepost they clapped him in arrest."
