Louisiana Lou

by William West Winter

  CHAPTER XIV

  READY FOR ACTION

  The fact that Solange ate heartily and naturally perhaps went far toovercome the feeling of diffidence that had settled on the Wallacerancheria. Perhaps it was merely that she showed herself quite humanand feminine and charmingly demure. At any rate, before the meal wasover, the Wallaces and Dave had recovered much of their poise and thetwo young men were even making awkward attempts at flirtation, much tothe amusement of the girl.

  Mr. Wallace, himself, although retaining a slight feeling that therewas something uncanny about her, felt it overshadowed by a convictionthat it would never do to permit her to go into the hills as sheintended to do. He finally expressed himself to that effect.

  "This here mine you're hunting for, mad'mo'selle," he said. "I ain'tgoin' to hold out no hopes to you, but I'll set Dave and my son tolookin' for it and you just stay right here with ma and me and makeyourself at home."

  Solange smiled and shook her head. She habitually kept her eyeslowered, and perhaps this was the reason that, when she raised themnow and then, they caught the observer unawares, with the effect ofholding him startled and fascinated.

  "It is kind of you, monsieur," she said. "But I cannot stay. I ampledged to make the hunt--not only for the mine but for the man whokilled my father. That is not an errand that I can delegate."

  "I'm afraid there ain't no chance to find the man that did that," saidWallace, kindly. "There ain't no one knows. It might have beenLouisiana, but if it was, he's been gone these nineteen years andyou'll never find him."

  Solange smiled a little sadly and grimly. "We Basques are queerpeople," she said. "We are very old. Perhaps that is why we feelthings that others do not feel. It is not like the second sight I haveheard that some possess. Yet it is in me here." She laid her hand onher breast. "I feel that I will find that man--and the mine, but notso strongly. It is what you call a--a hunch, is it not?"

  Wallace shook his head dubiously, but Solange had raised her eyes andas long as he could see them he felt unable to question anything shesaid.

  "And it is said that a murderer always returns, sooner or later, tothe scene of his crime, monsieur. I will be there when he comesback."

  "But," said Mrs. Wallace, gently, "it is not necessary for you to goyourself. Indeed, you can't do it, my dear!"

  "Why not, madame?"

  "Why--why---- But, mad'mo'selle, you must realize that a young girllike you can't wander these mountains alone--or with a set of youngscamps like these boys. They're good boys, and they wouldn't hurt you,but people would talk."

  Solange only shrugged her shoulders. "Talk! Madame, I am not afraid oftalk."

  "But, my dear, you are too lovely--too---- You must understand thatyou can't do it."

  "It'd sure be dangerous," said Wallace, emphatically. "We couldn'tallow it, nohow. Even my son here--I wouldn't let you go with him, andhe's a good boy as they go. And there's others you might meet in thehills."

  Solange nodded. "I understand, monsieur. But I am not afraid. Besides,am I not to meet my husband on this Shoestring Canyon where we mustfirst go?"

  Simultaneously they turned on her. "Your _husband_!" It was a cry ofastonishment from the older people and one of mingled surprise andshock from the boys. Solange smiled and nodded.

  "Yes," she said. "Monsieur de Launay, whom you rescued from the jail.He is my husband and it is all quite proper."

  "It ain't proper nohow," muttered Sucatash. "That bum is her husband,Dave!"

  "I don't get this, quite," said Wallace.

  Then Solange explained, telling them of the strange bargain she hadmade with De Launay and something of his history. The effect of thestory was to leave them more doubtful than ever, but when Wallacetried to point out that she would be taking a very long chance totrust herself to a man of De Launay's character and reputation, sheonly spread her hands and laughed, declaring that she had no fear ofhim. He had been a soldier and a gentleman, whatever he was now.

  Wallace gave it up, but he had a remedy for the situation, at least inpart.

  "Son," he said, abruptly, "you and Dave are hired. You-all are goin'to trail along with this lady and see that she comes out all right. Ifshe's with her husband, there ain't no cause for scandal. But if thisDe Launay feller gets anyways gay, you-all just puts his light out.You hear me!"

  "You're shoutin', pop. Which we already signs on with mad'mo'selle. Wehunts mines, murderers, or horned toads for her if she says so."

  Solange laughed, and there was affection in her mirth.

  "That is splendid, messieurs. I cannot thank you."

  "You don't need to," growled Dave. "All we asks is a chance to slaythis here husband of yours. Which we-all admires to see you a widow."

  After that Solange set herself to question Wallace regarding herfather's death. But he could tell her little she did not know.

  "We never knows who killed him," he said, after telling how Pierred'Albret had been found, dying in his wagon, with a sack ofmarvelously rich ore behind him. "There was some says it wasLouisiana, and a coroner's jury over to Maryville brings in a verdictthat a way. But I don't know. Louisiana was wild and reckless and hecould sure fan a gun, but he never struck me as bein' a killer.Likewise, I never knows him to carry a rifle, and Brandon says hedidn't have one when he went out past his ranch. Course, he might havegot hold of Pete's gun and used that, but if he did how come that Petedon't know who kills him?

  "The main evidence against Louisiana lays with old Jim Banker, theprospector. He comes rackin' in about a week later and says he seesLouisiana headin' into Shoestring Canyon about the time Pete was shot.But the trailers didn't find his hoss tracks. There was tracks left byPete's team and some burro sign, but there wasn't no recent hosstracks outside o' that."

  "You say Jim Banker says he saw him?" demanded Sucatash.

  "Yes."

  "Huh! That's funny. Jim allows, down in Sulphur Falls, that he don'tknow nothin' about it. Says he was south of the range, out on thedesert at the time."

  "Reckon he's forgot," said Wallace. "Anyway, if it was Louisiana, he'sgone and I reckon he won't come back."

  "I think it could not have been any one else," said Solange,thoughtfully. "What kind of man was this--this Louisiana?"

  "Tall, good-lookin' young chap, slim and quick as a rattler. He'd foolyou on looks. Came from Louisiana, and gets his name from that andfrom a sort of coon song he was always singin'. Something about 'MyLouisiana--Louisiana Lou!' Don't remember his right name except thatit was something like Delaney. Lew Delaney, I think."

  "He was a dangerous man, you say?"

  "Well--he was sure dangerous. I've seen some could shake the loads outof a six-gun pretty fast and straight, but I never saw the beat ofthis feller. Them things gets exaggerated after a time, but if half ofwhat they tell of this fellow was true, he was about the boss of theherd with a small gun.

  "Still, he never shoots any one until he mixes with Snake Murphy andthat was Snake's fault. He was on the run with some of Snake's friendsafter him when this happens. That's how come he was down here."

  In the morning Solange appeared, dressed for the range. The two youngmen, who had been smitten by her previously, when she had been cladin the sort of garments they had seen on the dainty town girls, weredoubly so when they saw her now. Slim and delicate, she wore breechesand coat of fair, soft leather and a Stetson, set over a vivid silkhandkerchief arranged around her hair like a bandeau. The costume waseminently practical, as they saw at once, but it was alsopicturesquely feminine and dainty. It had the effect of raising hereven higher above ordinary mortals. If it had been any other who woreit they would have contemptuously set her down as a moving-pictureheroine and laughed behind her back. But Solange set off the costumeand it set her off. Besides, it was not new, and had evidently beensubjected to severe service.