CHAPTER XL
CLAY PLAYS SECOND FIDDLE
Johnnie felt that Kitty's farewell dinner had gone very well. It washer first essay as a hostess, and all of them had enjoyed themselves.But, so far as he could see, it had not achieved the results for whichthey had been hoping.
Clay came home late and next morning was full of plans about leaving.He discussed the packing and train schedules and affairs at theB-in-a-Box. But of Beatrice Whitford he made not even a casual mention.
"Two more days and we'll hit the trail for good old Tucson," he saidcheerfully.
"Y'betcha, by jollies," agreed his bandy-legged shadow.
None the less Johnnie was distressed. He believed that his friend wasconcealing an aching heart beneath all this attention to impendingdetails. As a Benedict he considered it his duty to help the rest ofthe world get married too. A bachelor was a boob. He didn't know whatwas best for him. Same way with a girl. Clay was fond of MissBeatrice, and she thought a heap of him. You couldn't fool Johnnie.No, sirree! Well, then?
Mooning on the sad plight of these two friends who were too coy or tooperverse to know what was best for them, Johnnie suddenly slappedhimself a whack on the thigh. A brilliant idea had flashed into hiscranium. It proceeded to grow until he was like to burst with it.
When Lindsay rose from breakfast he was mysteriously beckoned intoanother room. Johnnie outlined sketchily and with a good deal ofhesitation what he had in mind. Clay's eyes danced with that spark ofmischief his friends had learned to recognize as a danger signal.
"You're some sure-enough wizard, Johnnie," he admitted. "I expectyou're right about girls not knowin' their own minds. You've had moreexperience with women than I have. If you say the proper thing to dois to abduct Miss Whitford and take her with us, why--"
"That's whatever. She likes you a heap more than she lets on to you.O' course it would be different if I wasn't married, but Kitty she canchaperoon Miss Beatrice. It'll be all accordin' to Hoyle."
The cattleman gazed at the puncher admiringly. "Don't rush me off myfeet, old-timer," he said gayly. "Gimme a coupla hours to think of it,and I'll let you know what I'll do. This is real sudden, Johnnie. Youmust 'a' been a terror with the ladies when you was a bachelor. Me, Inever kidnaped one before."
"Onct in a while you got to play like you're gonna treat 'em rough,"said Mr. Green sagely, blushing a trifle nevertheless.
"All right. I'll let you engineer this if I can make up my mind to itafter I've milled it over. I can see you know what you're doin'."
When Johnnie returned from a telephone call at the office two hourslater, Kitty had a suspicion he was up to something. He bubbledmystery so palpably that her curiosity was piqued. But the puncher foronce was silent as a clam. He did not intend to get Kitty into troubleif his plan miscarried. Moreover, he had an intuition that if she knewwhat was under way she would put her small, competent foot through themiddle of the project.
The conspirators arranged details. Johnnie was the brains of thekidnaping. Clay bought the tickets and was to take charge of theprisoner after the train was reached. They decided it would be best toget a stateroom for the girl.
"We wantta make it as easy as we can for her," said Johnnie. "O'course it's all for her own good, but we don't figure to treat hernoways but like the princess she is."
"Yes," agreed Clay humbly.
According to programme, carefully arranged by Johnnie, Beatrice rodedown to the train with him and Kitty in their taxicab. She went onboard for the final good-byes and chatted with them in their section.
The chief conspirator was as easy as a toad in a hot skillet. Now thatit had come down to the actual business of taking this young woman withthem against her will, he began to weaken. His heart acted verystrangely, but he had to go through with it.
"C-can I see you a minute in the next car, Miss Beatrice?" he asked,his voice quavering.
Miss Whitford lifted her eyebrows, but otherwise expressed no surprise.
"Certainly, Johnnie."
"What do you want to see Miss Whitford about, Johnnie?" his spouseasked. There were times when Kitty mistrusted Johnnie's judgment. Sheforesaw that he might occasionally need a firm hand.
"Oh, nothin' much. Tell you about it later, honey." The kidnapermopped the perspiration from his forehead. At that moment he wishedprofoundly that this brilliant idea of his had never been born.
He led the way down the aisle into the next sleeper and stopped at oneof the staterooms. Shakily he opened the door and stood aside for herto pass first.
"You want me to go in here?" she asked.
"Yes'm."
Beatrice stepped in. Johnnie followed.
Clay rose from the lounge and said, "Glad to see you, Miss Whitford."
"Did you bring me here to say good-bye, Johnnie?" asked Beatrice.
The Runt's tongue stuck to the root of his mouth, His eyes appealeddumbly to Clay.
"Better explain to Miss Whitford," said Clay, passing the buck.
"It's for yore good, Miss Beatrice," stammered the villain who hadbrought her. "We--we--I--I done brought you here to travel home withus."
"You--what?"
Before her slender, outraged dignity Johnnie wilted. "Kitty, she--shecan chaperoon you. It's all right, ma'am. I--we--I didn't go for todo nothin' that wasn't proper. We thought--"
"You mean that you brought me here expecting me to go along withyou--without my consent--without a trunk--without--"
Clay took charge of the kidnaping. "Johnnie, if I were you I'd light ashuck back to the other car. I see I'll have to treat this lady roughas you advised."
Johnnie wanted to expostulate, to deny that he had ever given suchcounsel, to advise an abandonment of the whole project. But his nerveunexpectedly failed him. He glanced helplessly at Clay and fled.
He was called upon the carpet immediately on joining Kitty.
"What are you up to, Johnnie? I'm not going to have you make a gooseof yourself if I can help it. And where's Mr. Lindsay? You said he'dmeet us here."
"Clay, he's in the next car."
"You took Miss Beatrice in there to say good-bye to him?"
"No--she--she's goin' along with us."
"Going along with us? What do you mean, Johnnie Green?"
He told her his story, not at all cheerfully. His bold plan lookedvery different now from what it had two days before.
Already the chant of the wheels had begun. The train was in thesub-Hudson darkness of the tunnel.
Kitty rose with decision. "Well, of all the foolishness I ever heard,Johnnie, this is the limit. I'm going right to that poor girl. You'vespoiled everything between you. She'll hate Mr. Lindsay for the restof her life. How could he be so stupid?"
Her husband followed her, crestfallen. He wanted to weep with chagrin.
Beatrice opened the door of the stateroom. She had taken off her hatand Clay was hanging it on a hook.
"Come in," she said cordially, but faintly.
Kitty did not quite understand. The atmosphere was less electric thanshe had expected. She stopped, taken aback at certain impressions thatbegan to register themselves on her brain.
"Johnnie was tellin' me--"
"About how he abducted me. Yes. Wasn't it dear of him?"
"But--"
"I've decided to make the best of it and go along."
"I--your father, Mr. Whitford--" Kitty bogged down.
Beatrice blushed. Little dimples came out with her smile. "I thinkI'd better let Clay explain."
"We were married two days ago, Kitty."
"What!" shouted the Runt.
"We intended to ask you both to the wedding, but when Johnnie proposedto abduct Miss Whitford, I thought it a pity not to let him. So we--"
Johnnie fell on him and beat him with both fists. "You daw-goned ol'scalawag! I never will help you git married again!" he shoutedgleefully.
Clay sat down on the seat and gave way to mirth
. He rocked with glee.Beatrice began to chuckle. She, too, yielded to laughter. Kitty, andthen Johnnie, added to the chorus.
"Oh, Johnnie--Johnnie--you'll be the death of me!" cried Clay. "It'llnever be a dull old world so long as you stay a bandit."
"Did you really advise him to beat me, Johnnie?" asked Beatricesweetly. "I never would have guessed you were such a cave man."
Johnnie flamed to the roots of his hair. "Now, ma'am, if you're gonnabelieve that--"
Beatrice repented and offered him her hand.
"We'll not believe anything of you that isn't good? even if you didwant to kidnap me," she said.
CHAPTER XLI
THE NEW DAY
The slapping of the wind against the tent awakened Beatrice. She couldhear it soughing gently through the branches of the live oaks. Anoutflung arm discovered Clay missing.
Presently she rose, sleep not yet brushed fully from her eyes, drew thetent flaps together modestly under her chin, and looked out upon aworld which swam in the enchanted light of a dawn primeval. Theeastern sky was faintly pink with the promise of a coming sun. Thesweet, penetrating lilt of the lark flung greeting at her.
Her questing glance found Clay, busy over the mesquite fire upon whichhe was cooking breakfast. She watched him move about, supple and lightand strong, and her heart lifted with sheer joy of the mate she hadchosen. He was such a man among men, this clear-eyed, bronzed husbandof a week. He was so clean and simple and satisfying. As she closedthe flaps she gave a deep sigh of content.
Every minute till she joined him was begrudged. For Beatrice hadlearned the message of her heart. She knew that she was wholly andcompletely in love with what life had brought her.
The hubbub of the city seemed to her now so small and so petty. Alwaysshe had known a passionate love of things fine and good. Butcivilization had thwarted her purposes, belittled her expression ofthem. Environment had driven her into grooves of convention. Here atlast she was free.
And she was amazingly, radiantly happy. What did motor-cars orwine-suppers or Paris gowns matter? They were the trappings thatstressed her slavery. Here she moved beside her mate without fear ordoubt in a world wonderful. Eye to eye, they spoke the truth to eachother after the fashion of brave, simple souls.
Glowing from the ice-cold bath of water from a mountain stream, shestepped down the slope into a slant of sunshine to join Clay. Helooked up from the fire and waved a spoon gayly at her. For he too wasas jocund as the day which stood tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.They had come into the hills to spend their honeymoon alone together,and life spoke to him in accents wholly joyous.
The wind and sun caressed her. As she moved toward him, a breath ofthe morning flung the gown about her so that each step modeled anew theslender limbs.
Her husband watched the girl streaming down the slope. Love swift asold wine flooded his veins. He rose, caught her to him, and lookeddown into the deep, still eyes that were pools of happiness.
"Are you glad--glad all through, sweetheart?" he demanded.
A little laugh welled from her throat. She gave him a tender, mockingsmile.
"I hope heaven's like this," she whispered.
"You don't regret New York--not a single, hidden longing for it 'waydown deep in yore heart?"
She shook her head. "I always wanted to be rescued from theenvironment that was stifling me, but I didn't know a way of escapetill you came," she said.
"Then you knew it?"
"From the moment I saw you tie the janitor to the hitching-post. Youremember I was waiting to go riding with Mr. Bromfield. Well, I wasbored to death with correct clothes and manners and thinking. I knewjust what he would say to me and how he would say it and what I wouldanswer. Then you walked into the picture and took me back to nature."
"It was the hitching-post that did it, then?"
"The hitching-post began it, anyhow." She slipped her arms around hisneck and held him fast. "Oh, Clay, isn't it just too good to be true?"
A ball of fire pushed up into the crotch between two mountain-peaks andfound them like a searchlight, filling their little valley with agolden glow.
The new day summoned them to labor and play and laughter, perhaps totears and sorrow too. But the joy of it was that the call came to themboth. They moved forward to life together.
The Big-Town Round-Up Page 41
