Bat Wing Bowles

by Dane Coolidge

  CHAPTER XXI

  A CALL

  There is a regrettable but very well defined tendency in human naturewhich prompts the author of a miss-fire revenge to take it out on thedog. Certainly there was no more innocent party to the inveigling ofGloomy Gus than Bowles, and yet for some reason Hardy Atkins and hiscomrades in crime chose to gaze upon him with a frown. After laboringfar into the night they had finally persuaded the cook that it was all amistake; that no insult was intended to his years; and that it would becontrary to those high principles of Southern chivalry of which he hadalways been such an illustrious exponent to report the fake fight to theboss. Then they had busied themselves in the early morning with choppingwood and packing water, and similar ingratiating tasks, with the resultthat, when Henry Lee came down after breakfast, there was no complaintfrom anybody. But when he had let it pass, and started off for ChulaVista, it was cloudy in the south for Bowles.

  But your true lover, with the wine of ecstasy in his veins, and hauntingfeminine glimpses to catch his eye, is not likely to be scanning thehorizon for a cloud the size of a man's hand. Bowles' troubles beganthat evening when, after an arduous day in the saddle, he returned tohis own social sphere. For two months and more Samuel Bowles had been acow-hand. He had slept on the ground, he had eaten in the dirt, and whenluck had gone against him he had learned to swear. But now, as he wasriding past the gate, Mrs. Lee, in a charming house-gown, had waylaidhim with a smile; he paused for a friendly word, and his breeding hadprompted him to linger while she chatted; then she had invited him todinner--not supper--and he had forgotten his lowly part. Forgotten alsowas the warning of Hardy Atkins, now so sullen in his defeat, andeverything else except the lure of dainty living and the memory of asmile. So, after a hasty shave and a change to cleaner clothes, hestepped out boldly from the ranks and walked up to the big white house.

  The chill and gusty days of early spring had passed and the soft warmthof May had brought out all the flowers. Along the gallery thehoneysuckle and the Cherokee climbers were fragrant with the firstblossoms of summer, and Bowles was glad to tarry beneath them when Mrs.Lee met him hospitably at the stoop. In the far west the Tortugas werepassing through the daily miracle of sunset, and the hush of evening hadsettled upon all the land.

  "Ah, Mrs. Lee," sighed Bowles, as he contemplated with a poet's eye thebeauties of nature, "now I understand how you can live here for thirtyyears and never go back to New York. Such illumination--such color! Andfrom the hill here, it is so much more glorious! Really, in spite of theloneliness, I almost envy you those thirty years!"

  "Yes," admitted Mrs. Lee, leading him to a rawhide chair beneath thehoneysuckle, "it _is_ beautiful. I like it--in a way--but still, I cannever forget New York. It offers so much, you know, of music and art andsociety; and yet--well, Henry needed me, and so I stayed. But I havetried to give my daughter what advantages I could. I have a sister, youknow, living in New York--Mrs. Elwood Tupper--perhaps you know her?"

  "Why, the name seems familiar," returned Bowles glibly.

  "Yes, she's my sister," resumed Mrs. Lee, after glancing at himcuriously. "Dixie was with her all last winter--I thought perhaps youmight have met her there?"

  Once more she gazed at him in that same inquiring way, and Bowleswondered if she had heard anything, but he was quick to elude the point.

  "Hmm," he mused, "Tupper! No, I hardly think so. When I return, though,I shall be glad to look her up--perhaps I can convey some message fromyou. Your daughter must find it rather close and confining in the city,after her fine, free life in the open. Really, Mrs. Lee, I never knewwhat living was until I came out here! Of course, I'm very new yet----"

  "Yes," agreed Mrs. Lee, who knew a few social sleights herself, "Dixiedid complain of the confinement, but she----_O Dixie_!"

  "Yes, Mother!" replied a dutiful voice from within.

  "Come out on the gallery--Mr. Bowles is here. But she met some very nicepeople there--some of the real old families, you know--and Ithought----"

  The door opened at this point, and Bowles leapt to his feet inastonishment. It was a different Dixie that appeared before him--thesame bewitching creature who had dazzled his eyes at the WordsworthClub, and she wore the very same gown. And what a wonderfultransformation it seemed to make in her--she was so quiet and demurenow, and she greeted him in quite the proper manner.

  "I was just telling Mr. Bowles, Dixie," continued Mrs. Lee, stillholding to her fixed idea, "that you went out quite a little in NewYork--and perhaps you might have met back there."

  For a moment the two eyed each other shrewdly, each guessing how muchthe other had said, and then Bowles opened up the way.

  "Why, really, Miss Lee," he exclaimed, still gazing at her with admiringeyes, "you do look familiar in that dress! Perhaps we have met in acrush, like ships that pass in the night? May I ask at what function youwore this charming gown?"

  "Yes, indeed, Mr. Bowles," returned Dixie May; "but, rather than runover the whole list and recall a winter's agony, let's take it forgranted that we met. It's a fine, large place to come away from, isn'tit--dear old New York? Wasn't the slush of those sidewalks somethingelegant? And that steam heat! My! It never gets as hot as that out here.Yes, indeed, Mother, I'm sure Mr. Bowles and I have met before; but,"she added, and here her voice changed, "since he's traveling incognito,changing his name as a garment and not getting any letters from home,perhaps it's just as well not to dwell upon the matter."

  "Why, Dixie, child!" protested Mrs. Lee. "What in the world do youmean?"

  "Nothing at all, Mother, except that he is our guest. Shall we go in nowto dinner?"

  They went in, and throughout the rest of the evening Bowles was guiltilyconscious of a startled mother's eyes which regarded him with anxiousscrutiny at first and then became very resolute and stern. Mrs. Lee hadsolved her problem, whatever it was, and settled upon her duty. Bowlesfelt a social chill creep into the air as he rose to go, and he bracedhimself for some ultimatum; but his hostess did not speak her thoughts.There was no further allusion to New York, or his alias, or the factthat he had acted a lie. All those things were taken for granted, and heleft with a balked feeling, as if he had failed of some purpose. Hervery silence clutched at his heart, and her passive hand-touch as theyparted. Dixie, too, seemed to share in the general aloofness. She hadsaid good-night without any friendly grip of the fingers, looking at himvery straight, as if to fathom his deceit.

  Bowles lay awake that night and thought it out, and he saw where he hadmade his mistake. From the first his manner had been evasive almost tomendacity, and, with both Dixie and her mother, he had made a mystery ofhis past. Now the time for explanations was gone, and he was reaping hisjust reward. He should have taken Dixie into his confidence when theywere alone beneath the cedars; he should have answered that question ofhers when she asked it--but now it was too late.

  "Mr. Bowles," she had said, "who are you, anyway?"

  And when he had evaded her, she had never asked again. And now, throughthe same damnable ineptitude, he had estranged her mother and lost hiswelcome at the big house. All the explanations in the world would notsquare him now, for one deceit follows another and his second word wasno better than his first. He could see with half an eye that Mrs. Leedistrusted him. He must seem to her candid mind no less than a politeadventurer, a ne'er-do-weel young profligate from the East withintentions as dark as his past. Nor could he bring himself to blame her,for the inference was logical--if a man conceals his identity and denieshis acquaintances and friends, surely there must be something shamefulthat he is at such pains to hide.

  But the way out? That was what kept Bowles awake. Certainly, if he werea gentleman, he would stay away from the house. Nor would it be whollyhonorable to waylay Dixie May and explain. And, besides, there wasnothing to explain. He had references, of course, but if he gave them,his aunt would discover his whereabouts and summon him home--and thenthere was Christabel!

  The memory of those prearranged meetings at his aunt's swept
over him,and he shuddered where he lay. Dear, pretty, patient Christabel! What ifshe should sense this conspiracy to make him marry her and lose thatfriendly smile? What if she should blush as he had blushed at eachchance tete-a-tete, gazing nervously into his eyes to guess if he wouldyield? And to wonder if that was love! Ah no, he could never do that!Rather than inflict such torture upon her he would flee to the depths ofthe wilderness and hide until she was married. But his safety lay onlyin flight, for his aunt was a resolute woman, with tears and sighs ather command, if all else failed. Yes, he must run away--that was the wayout.

  And it would solve all his problems at once. There would be no lameexplanations to make at the house, no cheap jealousies with HardyAtkins, no breaking of his cherished dream of seeing the West. He wouldmove on into the White Mountains and explore their fastnesses withBrigham. Or, lacking Brigham, he would plunge into that wildernessalone.

  The harsh clangor of Gloomy Gus's dishpan cut short his fitful sleep,and he rolled out of bed with his mind made up to quit. At breakfast hesaid nothing, bolting his food with the rest of them, and followed on tothe horse corral for a private word with Brig. But right there fateplayed him a scurvy trick, and disrupted all his schemes, for as hestepped around behind the corral Hardy Atkins strode in upon him andmade signs to certain of his friends.

  "Now, lookee here, Mr. Man," he said, and he said it quietly for once,"you been four-flushin' around hyer long enough, and we give you warnin'to git. We got yore record and we know what you're after, so don't handus out any bull. Yore name ain't Bowles and you're aimin' at Dix, butshe's got too many good friends. Now we've let you off easy, so far, butGawd he'p you if we come ag'in. Ain't that so, boys?"

  "You bet it is!" answered three or four, and the rest of them lookedtheir disdain.

  But an unreasoning anger swept over Bowles at the very first word, andhe returned the sneer with interest.

  "Mr. Atkins," he said, "you have threatened me before, but I am notafraid of you. You cannot frighten me away."

  "Oh, I cain't, cain't I?" jeered Hardy Atkins, while his friends rumbledthreats from behind. "Well, _poco pronto_ you're liable to change yoremind. You come into this country on a Hinglish trot and we thought youwas a sport, but now that we know better, you got to make good or git.Ain't that so, boys?"

  "You bet it is!" roared the bunch, and Atkins hitched up his shaps.

  "All right," he said. "You got a job with this outfit by claimin' thatyou could ride. _Now_--you're so brave--either you ride that Dunbarhawse the way you said or we kick you out o' camp! You can take yorechoice."

  "Very well," said Bowles; "I'll ride the horse."

  "Like hell you will!" sneered the gang in a chorus, but Bowles did notheed their words.

  "Any time you put the saddle on him," he said, "I'll ride him."

  At this they stood irresolute, unable to make him out. On the morningthat he had ridden Wa-ha-lote he was a tenderfoot, not knowing one horsefrom another, but now he had seen the worst. And yet he would climb upon Dunbar!

  "Come on--let's rope 'im!" urged Hardy Atkins, but he did not move outof his tracks. "No, the boss is comin' back," he said. "Let's wait tillwe're hyer by ourse'ves. All right, Mr. Bronco-bustin' Bowles, we'll fixyou good and plenty--the first time the folks leave the house. Andmeantime, if you value yore health, you better stay down on low ground."

  "I will go wherever I please," answered Bowles; but he stayed down onthe low ground.