CHAPTER III.
MISS BARBARA WORTH.
Mrs. Worth, sitting on the wide veranda of her home after a lonelysupper, lifted her eyes frequently from the work in her lap to lookdown the street. Perhaps it was unusual for a banker's wife to bedarning her husband's socks; it may be, even, that bankers do notusually wear socks that have been darned. But Mrs. Worth was notsensible that her task was at all strange.
A group of dust-covered cow-boys, coming into town for an evening'spleasure, jogged past with loud laughter and soft-clinking spurs andbridle-chains. "There's Jefferson Worth's place," said one. "D'yereckon he'll make good corralin' all the money there is in the world?"
Now and then a carriage, filled with well-to-do citizens out for anevening ride, drove slowly by. The people in the carriages alwayssaluted Mrs. Worth and she returned their salutations with a primlittle bow. But no one stopped to chat or to offer her a seat. In this,also, there was nothing strange to the woman on the porch of the big,empty house. Sometimes the people in the carriages, entertainingvisiting friends, pointed to Jefferson Worth's house, with properexplanations, as they also called attention to the PioneerBank--Jefferson Worth's bank.
When dusk came and she could no longer see, Mrs. Worth laid aside herwork and sat with folded hands, her face turned down the street. Insidethe house the lights were not yet on; there was no need for them andshe liked to sit in the dark.
The Indian servant woman came softly to the door. "Does the Senora wishanything?"
"No, thank you, Ynez; come and sit down."
Noiselessly the woman seated herself on the top step.
"It has been warm to-day, Ynez."
"Si, Senora."
"It is nearly three weeks since Mr. Worth left with Texas Joe for SanFelipe, Ynez."
"Si, Senora."
"Do you know how far it is across the Desert to San Felipe?"
"Si. I think three--four day, maybe five, Senora."
"It will be very hot."
"Si, Senora. Las' year my sister's man--Jose--go for San Felipe. Nomuch water. He no come back."
"Yes, I remember. What is it your people call The King's Basin Desert?The Hollow of God's Hand, isn't it?"
"Si, Senora. La Palma de la Mano de Dios."
"I wish they would come."
"He come pretty quick, I think. Mebbe so he not start when he think.Mebbe so what you call 'beesness' not let him come," said the Indianwoman, soothingly.
"But Mr. Worth expected to be back two days ago and he is always ontime, you know, Ynez."
"Si, Senora. But mebbe so this one time different"
"I do wish they would---Look, Ynez, look! There's some one stopping!"
A carriage was turning in toward the house.
"It is Senor Worth," said the Indian woman.
"Someone is with him, Ynez. They have a child."
As Jefferson Worth and the Seer came up the walk--the engineer carryingthe little girl--Mrs. Worth rose unsteadily to her feet. "Run, quick,Ynez--quick! The lights!"
That night when the Seer, with everything possible done for hiscomfort, had retired, and the baby--bathed and fed--was sound asleep ina child's bed that Ynez had brought from an unused room in the banker'sbig house and placed in Mrs. Worth's own chamber, Jefferson Worth andhis wife crept softly to the little girl's bedside. Silently theylooked at the baby form under the snow-white coverlet and at the round,baby face, with the tumbled brown hair, on the pillow.
Mrs. Worth clasped her hands in eager longing as she whispered: "Oh,Jeff, can we keep her? Can we?"
Jefferson Worth answered in his careful manner: "Did you look for markson her clothing?"
"There was nothing--not a letter even. And all that she can tell of hername is Barba. I'm sure she means Barbara." As she answered, Mrs. Worthsearched her husband's face anxiously. Then she exclaimed: "Oh you dowant her; you do!" and added wistfully: "Of course we must try to findher folks, but do you think it very wrong, Jeff, to wish--to wish thatwe never do? I feel as though she were sent to take the place of ourown little girl. We need her so, Jeff. I need her so--and you--you willneed her, when--" There was a day coming that the banker and his wifedid not talk about. Since the birth and death of their one child, Mrs.Worth had been a hopeless invalid.
Several weeks passed and every effort to find little Barbara's peoplewas fruitless. Inquiry in Rubio City and San Felipe and through thenewspapers on the Coast brought no returns. The land in those days wasa land of strangers where people came and went with little notice andwere lost quickly in the ever-restless tide. It was not at all strangethat no one could identify an outfit of which it was possible to tellonly of a woman and child and one bay horse. There were many outfitswith a woman and child in the party and many that had among the two,four, six, or more animals one bay horse.
In the meantime, little Barbara, in her new home, was growing graduallyaway from all that had gone before her long ride in the big wagon withthe men. Already she was beginning to talk of her "other mamma andpapa." Mrs. Worth slipped into the other woman's place in the childishheart, even as little Barbara filled the empty mother-heart of thewoman.
Toward Mr. Worth, though she no longer shrank from him in fear, thelittle girl maintained an attitude of questioning regard. With Texas orPat or the boy Abe, who often went together to see her, she laughed andchattered like a good little comrade and play-fellow. But when the Seercame, as he did whenever his duties and his presence in town wouldpermit, she flew to him with eager love, climbing on his knee orsnuggling under his arm with entire confidence and understanding.
Public interest in Rubio City, keen at first, died out quickly. RubioCity, in those days of railroad building, had too many things ofinterest to retain any one thing long. Still, because it was JeffersonWorth, Rubio City could not altogether drop the matter. So it was oneevening in the Gold Bar saloon, where Pat, coming into town for a quietevening from the grading camp on the new road, and Texas Joe, who wasjust back from another trip across the Desert, were having a friendlyglass in a quiet corner.
"Is there anythin' doin' in that San Felipe I don't know?" was Pat'snatural question. "Things is that slow in this danged town I'm gettin'all dead on me insides."
Texas grinned in his slow way. "There'll be another pay day beforelong."
"Yes, an' 'tis ye that'll be 'round agin to kape me from properenjoyment av the blissin's av civilization wid yer talk av the goldthat's to be found in thim mountains that nobody but ye knows wherethey are. 'Tis a fool I am to be listenin' to yer crazy drames."
"Just keep your shirt on a little longer, pard," returned the othersoothingly. "We've most enough for a grub-stake now. When we're alittle mite better fixed we'll pull out of this sinful land o'temptation an' when we come back"--he drew a long breath--"we'll do thething up proper."
Pat dropped his glass with a thump. "We will," he said. "We will that.An' it's to San Felipe we'll go. Tell me, did you see no wan thereinquirin' afther me good health this last thrip?"
"I kept away from Sailor Mike's place, not wishin' to deprive you ofyour share o' the sport. But I met a big policeman who said: 'Tell thatred-headed Irish bum that it'll be better for his health to stay awayfrom San Felipe.'"
"He did, did he? He towld ye that? The big slob! He knows ut will bebetter for him. Fwhat did ye tell him?"
"I said you'd decided to locate here permanent."
Pat gasped for breath. "Ye towld him that! Ye did! Yer a dangedsun-baked herrin' av a man wid no proper spirit at all. Fwhat the helldo ye mane to be so slanderin' me reputation an' two or three hundredmiles av disert between me an' him? For a sup av wather I'd go to yewid me two hands."
Texas Joe laughed outright. "Let's have another drink instead," he said.
In the silence occasioned by the re-filling of their glasses the twofriends caught the name of Jefferson Worth. Instantly their attentionwas attracted to a well-dressed, smart-looking stranger, who stood atthe bar talking loudly to a man known to Rubio City as a promoter ofsomewhat dou
btful mining schemes. Pat and Texas listened with amusedinterest while the two in concert cursed Jefferson Worth with carefuland exhaustive attention to details.
"Go to it, gentlemen!" put in the bar-keeper, as he returned to hisplace from the table in the corner. "We-all sure endorses youropinions. Have one on the house." He graciously helped them to moreliquor.
"Brother Worth sure stands high with this here congregation," drawledTexas Joe to his companion.
"Hst!" whispered Pat. "They're askin' afther the kid." The casual,amused interest of the two friends became intense.
"They sure tried everything to find her folks," the saloon man wassaying, "but there ain't no thin' doin' so far. They say if nobodyshows up with a claim Jefferson Worth is goin' to adopt her an' bringher up like his own."
This statement of Jefferson Worth's intentions called forth from thestranger an exhaustive opinion as to the banker's fitness to have thechild and her probable chances for right training and happiness in thefinancier's hands. His remarks being cordially commended by thepromoter and the man in the white apron, the speaker was encouraged tostrengthen his position in reference to the future of this poor,helpless orphan and to point out freely the duties of Rubio City in thematter. He was interrupted by a light hand on his shoulder. Turningwith a start that spilled the liquor in his glass, he looked into thelean face of Texas Joe. Behind the plainsman stood the heavy form ofthe Irishman, a look of pleased anticipation on his battle-scarredfeatures. There was a sudden sympathetic hush in the room. Every facewas turned toward the group.
"Excuse me, stranger," said Texas, in his softest tones; "but I sure ammoved to testify in this here meetin'."
The man would have made some angry, blustering reply, but a warninglook from the promoter and a slight cough from the bar-tender checkedhim.
Tex proceeded. "That you-all has rights to your opinion regardin' Mr.Jefferson Worth's character I ain't denyin', an' there's plenty inRubio City that'll agree with you. Mebbe you has reasons for feelin'grieved. I don't sabe this here business game nohow. Mebbe you stackedthe deck an' he caught you at it. You sure impresses me that a-way, forI've noticed that it ain't the sport who plays fair or loses fair thatsqueals loudest when the cards are agin him. But when you touches onsaid Jefferson Worth an' the future of that little kid, with freeremarks on the duties of Rubio City regardin' the same, you're suregettin' around where I live. Me an' this gent here"--he waved his handtoward Pat with elaborate formality, to the huge delight of hisaudience--"me an' this here gent is first uncles to that kid, an' anypop-eyed, lop-eared, greasy-fingered cross between a coyot' an' ajack-rabbit that comes a-pouncin' out o' the wilds o' civilization tojump our claim by makin' insinuations that we ain't competent to seethat the aforementioned kid has proper bringin' up an' that BrotherWorth ain't a proper daddy for her, had best come loaded for trouble.For trouble'll sure camp on his trail 'til he's reformed or been safelyplanted."
In the significant pause that followed no one moved. Texas stoodeasily, looking into the eyes of the stranger. Pat shot fierce,watchful glances around the room, from face to face.
"I trust you get's the force o' my remarks," concluded Texassuggestively.
The stranger moved uneasily and looked hurriedly about for signs ofsympathy or assistance. Every face was a blank. Texas waited.
"I suppose I was hasty," said the stranger, sullenly. "I beg yourpardon, gentlemen."
"Consider the meetin' dismissed, gentlemen," said Texas, easily. "Mean' my pardner trusts that the congregation will treasure our remarksin the future. Now, you bar-tender, everybody drinks on us to thehealth and happiness of our respected niece--Miss Barbara Worth."
On the street a few minutes later Pat growled his disappointment. "Thedivil take a man wid no bowels."
Ignoring his friend's complaint, Texas returned meditatively; "Do youthink, Pat, that there might be anything in what that there gent said?In spite o' what we seen of him on that trip, Jefferson Worth is sure acold proposition. Give it to me straight. What will he do for thelittle one?"
"An' it's just fwhat we see'd on that thrip that makes me think ut's aquestion av fwhat the little girl will do to him," answered Pat,thereby sustaining the reputation of his race.
The Winning of Barbara Worth Page 5
