CHAPTER XX.
'TANA'S ENGAGEMENT
"And she wants a thousand dollars in money or free gold--a thousanddollars to-day?"
"No use asking me what for, Dan, for I don't know," confessed Lyster. "Ican't see why she don't tell you herself; but you know she has been alittle queer since the fever--childish, whimsical, and all that. Maybe asshe has not yet handled any specie from your bonanza, she wants some onlyto play with, and assure herself it is real."
"Less than a thousand in money and dust would do for a plaything,"remarked Overton. "Of course she has a right to get what she wants; butthat amount will be of no use to her here in camp, where there is not athing in the world to spend it for."
"Maybe she wants to pension off some of her Indian friends before sheleaves," suggested Max--"old Akkomi and Flap-Jacks, perhaps. I am a littlelike Miss Slocum in my wonder as to how she endures them, though, ofcourse, the squaw is a necessity."
"Oh, well, she was not brought up in the world of Miss Slocum--or yourworld, either," answered Overton. "You should make allowance for that."
"Make allowance--I?" and Lyster looked at him curiously. "Are you tryingto justify her to me? Why, man, you ought to know by this time what keepsme here a regular lounger around camp, and there is no need to makeexcuses for her to me. I thought you knew."
"You mean you--like her?"
"Worse than that," said Max, with his cheery, confident smile. "I'm tryingto get her to say she likes me."
"And she?"
"Well, she won't meet me as near half-way as I would like," he confessed;"talks a lot of stuff about not being brought up right, and not suited toour style of life at home, and all that. But she did seem rather partialto me when she was ill and off guard. Don't you think so? That is all Ihave to go on; but it encourages me to remember it."
Overton did not speak, and Lyster continued speculating on his chances,when he noticed his companion's silence.
"Why don't you speak, Dan? I did hope you would help me rather than beindifferent."
"Help you!" and Lyster was taken aback at the fierce straightening of thebrows and the strange tone in which the words were uttered. The older mancould not but see his surprised look, for he recovered himself, anddropped his hand in the old familiar way on Lyster's shoulder.
"Not much chance of my helping you when she employs you as an agent whenshe wants any service, rather than exchange words with me herself. Now,that is the way it looks, Max."
"I know," agreed Lyster. "And to tell the truth, Dan, the only thing shedoes that really vexes me is her queer attitude toward you of late. Ican't think she means to be ungrateful, but--"
"Don't bother about that. Everything has changed for her lately, and shehas her own troubles to think of. Don't you doubt her on my account. Justremember that. And if--she says 'yes' to you, Max, be sure I would rathersee her go to you than any other man I know."
"That is all right," observed Lyster, laughingly; "but if you only had alove affair or two of your own, you could perhaps get up more enthusiasmover mine."
Then he sauntered off to report the financial interview to 'Tana, andlaughed as he went at the impatient look flung at him by Overton.
He found 'Tana visiting at the tent of the cousins, who were using allarguments to persuade her to share their new abode. Each was horrified tolearn that she had dismissed the squaw at sleeping time, and had remainedin the cabin alone.
"Not quite alone," she corrected, "for Harris was just on the other sideof the door."
"Much protection he would be."
"Well, then, Dan Overton was with him. How is he for protection?"
"Thoroughly competent, no doubt," agreed Miss Lavina, with a ratherscandalized look. "But, my dear, the propriety?"
"Do you think Flap-Jacks would help any one out in propriety?" retorted'Tana. "But we won't stumble over that question long, for I want to leavethe camp and go back to the Ferry."
"And then, 'Tana?"
"And then--I don't know, Mrs. Huzzard, to school, maybe--though I feel oldfor that, older than either of you, I am sure--so old that I care nothingfor all the things I wanted less than a year ago. They are within myreach now, yet I only want to rest--"
She did not finish the sentence.
Mrs. Huzzard, noticing the tired look in her eyes and the wistfulness ofher voice, reached out and patted her head affectionately.
"You want, first of all, to grow strong and hearty, like you used tobe--that is what you need first, then the rest will all come right in goodtime. You'll want to see the theaters, and the pictures, and hear the finemusic you used to talk of. And you'll travel, and see all the fine placesyou used to dream about. Then, maybe, you'll get ambitious, like you usedto be, about making pictures out of clay. For you can have fine teachingnow, you know, and you'll find, after a while, that the days will hardlyseem long enough for all the things you want to do. That is how it will bewhen you get strong again."
'Tana tried to smile at the cheerful picture, but the smile was not amerry one. Her attention was given to Lyster and Overton, whom she couldsee from the tent door.
How tall and strong Dan looked! Was she to believe that story of him heardlast night? The very possibility of it made her cheeks burn at the thoughtof how she had stood with his arm around her. And he had pitied her thatnight. "Poor little girl!" he had said. Was his pity because he saw howmuch he was to her, while he himself thought only of some one else? Oneafter another those thoughts had come to her through the sleepless night,and when the day came she could not face him to speak to him of thesimplest thing. And of the money she must have, she could not ask him atall. She wished she could have courage to go to him and tell him thething she had heard; but courage was not strong in her of late. The fearthat he might look indifferently on her and say, "Yes, it is true--whatthen?"--the fear of that was so great that she had walked by the water'sedge, as the sun rose, and felt desperate enough to think of sleep underthe waves, as a temptation. For if it was true--
The two older women watched her, and decided that she was not yet strongenough to think of long journeys. Her hands would tremble at times, andtears, as of weakness, would come to her eyes, and she scarcely appearedto hear them when they spoke.
She never walked through the woods as of old, though sometimes she wouldstand and look up at the dark hills with a perfect hunger in her eyes. Andwhen the night breeze would creep down from the heights, and carry thesweet wood scents of the forest to her, she would close her eyes and drawin long breaths of utter content. The strong love for the wild places wasas second nature to her; yet when Max would ask her to go with him forflowers or mosses, her answer was always "no."
But she would go to the boat sometimes, though no longer having strengthto use the paddle. It was a good place to think, if she could only keepthe others from going, too, so she slipped away from Max and the women andwent down. A chunky, good-looking fellow was mending one of the canoes,and raised his head at her approach, nodding to her and evidently pleasedwhen she addressed him.
"Yes, it is a shaky old tub," he agreed, "but I told Overton I thought itcould be fixed to carry freight for another trip; so he put me at it."
"You are new in camp, aren't you?" she asked, not caring at all whether hewas or not. She was always friendly with the workmen, and this one smiledand bowed.
"We are all that, I guess," he said. "But I came up the day Haydon andSeldon came. I lived with Seldon down the country, and was staggered alittle, I tell you, when I found Overton was in charge, and had struck itrich. But no man deserves good luck more."
"No," she agreed. "Then you knew him before?"
"Yes, indeed--over in Spokane. He don't seem quite the same fellow,though. We thought he would just go to the dogs after he left there, forhe started to drink heavily. But he must have settled in his own mind thatit wasn't worth while; so here he is, straight as a string, and countinghis dollars by the thousands, and I'm glad to see it."
"Drink! He never drinks to excess
, that we know of," she answered."Doesn't seem to care for that sort of thing."
"No, he didn't then, either," agreed this loquacious stranger, "but awoman can drive as good men as him to drink; and that is about the way itwas. No one thought any worse of Overton, though--don't think that. Theworst any one could say was that he was too square--that's all."
Too square! She walked away from him a little way, all her mind aflamewith his suggestions. He had taken to drink and dissipation because ofsome woman. Was it the woman whose name she had heard last night? The keyto the thing puzzling her had been dropped almost at her feet, yet shefeared to pick it up. No teaching she had ever received told her it wasunprincipled to steal through another the confidence he himself had notchosen to give her. But some instinct of justice kept her from furtherquestion.
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 hishead, but he did not impress her as being a deliberate liar. Then, all atonce, she realized who he must be, and turned back. There was no harm inasking that, at any rate.
"You are the man whom Overton sent to put Harris to bed last night, areyou 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 amanager, and she--"
"I am not asking you about--about Mr. Overton's affairs," she said, andshe sat down, white and dizzy, on the overturned canoe. "And he might notlike 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 badbreak he made over there; but, Lord! there was excuse enough. She is oneof those women that look just like a little helpless baby; and that caughtOverton. Young, you know. But I won't whisper her name in camp again, forit is hard on the old man. But, as you are partners, I guessed you mustknow."
"Yes," she said, faintly; "but don't talk, don't--"
"Say! You are sick, ain't you?" he demanded, as her voice dropped to awhisper. "Say! Look here, Miss Rivers! Great snakes! She's fainted!"
When she opened her eyes again, the rough roof of her cabin was aboveher, instead of the blue sky. The women folks were using the camprestorative--whisky--on her to such good purpose that her hands and faceand hair were redolent of it, and the amount she had been forced toswallow was strangling her.
The face she saw first was that of Max--Max, distressed and anxious, andeven 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 underwhich she had fallen prostrate.
It was all settled now--settled forever. She had heard the worst, and knewshe must go away--away from where she must see that one man, and be filledwith humiliation if ever she met his gaze. A man with a wife somewhere--aman into whose arms she had crept!
"Are you in pain?" asked Miss Lavina, as 'Tana groaned and shut her eyestight, as if to bar out memory.
"No--nothing ails me. I was without a hat, and the sun on my head made mesick, I suppose," she answered, and arose on her elbow. "But I am notgoing to be a baby, to be watched and carried around any more. I am goingto 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 wasagain herself.
"I am going to get up," she continued. "I am going away from hereto-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 Lysteroffered his hand to help her, she took it, and, standing erect, lookedaround at the couch.
"That is the last time I'm going to be thrown on you for any such foolcause," she said, whimsically. "Who toted me in here--you?"
"I? Not a bit of it," confessed Lyster. "Dan reached you before any of theothers knew you were ill. He carried you up here."
"He? Oh!" and she shivered a little. "I want to talk to Harris. Max, comewith me."
He went wonderingly, for he could see she was excited and nervous. Herhand trembled as it touched his, but her mouth was set so firmly over thelittle white teeth that he knew it was better to humor her than fret herby persuading her to rest.
But once beside Harris, she sat a long time in silence, looking out fromthe doorway across the level now active with the men of the works. Notuntil the two cousins had walked across to their other shelter did shespeak, and then it was to Harris.
"Joe, I am sick," she confessed; "not sick with the fever, but heartsickand 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. Hecan't talk, but knows me better than you do, I guess; for I've come to himbefore when I was troubled, and I want to tell him what you said to me inthe boat."
Max stared at her, but silently agreed when he saw she was in earnest. Heeven 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 thechair. "He asked me to marry him--some day. Would it be right for me tosay 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 bealways contented with your ways of living. I was born different--a heapdifferent. But to-day it seems as if I am not strong enough to dowithout--some one--who likes me, and I do want to say 'yes' to you, yetI'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 Lysterreached out his hand to her and laughed.
"Oh, you dear girl," he said, fondly. "Did your conscience make itnecessary for you to confess in this fashion? Now listen. You are weak andnervous; 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 andloneliness that ailed you, and not liking me, then I give you my word I'llnever try to hold you to a promise. You will be well and strong by thattime, 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 herhand to Max.
"Yes," she said. "But if you should be sorry--"
"Not another word," he commanded; "the 'yes' is all I want to hear justnow; when I get sorry I'll let you know."
And that is the way their engagement began.
That Girl Montana Page 21
