CHAPTER XXVII
TALL STORIES
Daylight had barely broadened into morning when Van was astir from hisbed. The air was chill and wonderfully clean. Above the eastern runof hills the sun was ready to appear.
Beth still lay deep in slumber. She had curled up like a child in hermeager covering. Van watched her from his distance. A little shiverpassed through her form, from time to time. Her hat was still inplace, but how girlish, how sweet, how helpless was her face--thelittle he could see! How he wished he might permit her to sleep it outas nature demanded. For her own sake, not for his, he must hasten heronward to Goldite, by way of the "Laughing Water" claim.
He walked off eastward where a natural furrow made a deep depression inthe valley. His pony followed, the lasso dragging in the sand. Onceover at the furrow edge, the man took out his pistol and fired it offin the air.
Beth was duly aroused. Van saw her leap to her feet, then hedisappeared in the hollow, with his broncho at his heels.
The girl was, if possible, stiffer than before. But she was muchrefreshed. For a moment she feared Van was deserting, till she notedhis saddle, near at hand. Then he presently emerged upon the level ofthe plain and returned to the site of their camp.
"First call for breakfast in the dining-car," he said. "We can make itby half-past eight."
"If only we could have a cup of good hot coffee first, before westart," said Beth, and she smiled at the vainness of the thought.
"We won't get good coffee at the claim," Van assured her dryly. "Butnear-coffee would lure me out of this."
He was rapidly adjusting the blanket and saddle on his horse.
"You'll have to ride or we can't make speed," he added. "As a walkeryou're sure the limited."
She appreciated thoroughly the delicacy with which he meant to continuethe fiction of her sex. But he certainly was frank.
"Thank you," she answered amusedly. "I'd do better, perhaps, if Iweren't so over-burdened with flattery."
"You'll have to do better, anyhow," he observed, concludingpreparations with Suvy. "There you are. Get on. Father Time withhobbles on could beat us getting a move."
He started off, leaving her to mount by herself. She managed thematter somewhat stiffly, suppressing a groan at the effort, and thenfor an hour she was gently pummeled into limberness as the ponyfollowed Van.
They came at the end of that time to one of the upper reaches of thatsame river she had forded the previous day. To all appearances thewide shallow bed was a counterpart of the one over which her horse hadwaded. But the trail turned sharply down the stream, and followedalong its bank.
They had halted for the pony to drink. Van also refreshed himself andBeth dismounted to lie flat down and quench her long, trying thirst.
"Right across there, high up in the hills, is the 'Laughing Water'claim," said Van, pointing north-eastward towards the mountains. "Onlythree miles away, if we could fly, but six as we have to go around."
"And why do we have to go around?" Beth inquired. "Aren't we going tocross the river here?"
"Looks like a river, I admit," he said, eying the placid stream."That's a graveyard there--quicksand all the way across."
Beth's heart felt a shock at the thought of what could occur to atraveler here, unacquainted with the treacherous waters.
"Good gracious!" she said. She added generously: "Couldn't I walk alittle now, and--share the horse?"
"When you walk it gets on Suvy's nerves to try to keep step," heanswered. "Fall in."
They went two miles down the river, then, across on a rock-and-gravelbottom, at a ford directly opposite a jagged rift in the mountains.This chasm, which was short and steep, they traversed perspiringly.The sun was getting warm. Beyond them then the way was all a rough,hard climb, over ridges, down through canyons, around huge dykes ofrock and past innumerable foldings of the range. How Van knew the waywas more than Beth could understand. She was already growing weariedanew, since the night had afforded her very little rest, and she hadnot eaten for nearly a day.
Van knew she was in no condition for the ride. He was watching herconstantly, rejoicing in her spirit, but aching for her aches. He seta faster pace for the broncho to follow, to end the climb as soon aspossible.
At length, below a rounded ridge, where stunted evergreens made awelcome bit of greenery, he came to a halt.
"We're almost there," he said. "You'll have to remain at the claimtill somewhere near noon, then I'll show you the way down to Goldite."
"Till noon?" She looked at him steadily, a light of worry in her eyesas she thought of arriving so late at Mrs. Dick's, with whatconsequences--the Lord alone knew.
"I can't get away much earlier," he said, and to this, by way of actinghis part, he added: "Do you want to wear me out?"
She knew what he meant. He would wait till noon to give her time torest. She would need all the rest he could make possible. And then hewould only "show her the way to Goldite." He would not ride with herto town. She might yet escape the compromising plight into which shehad been thrust. His thoughtfulness, it seemed, could have no end.
"Very well," she murmured. "I'm sorry to have made you all thistrouble." She was not--someways; she was lawlessly, inordinately glad.
The "trouble" for Van had been the most precious experience in all hislife.
"It has been one wild spasm of delight," he said in his dryest mannerof sarcasm. "But between us, Kent, I'm glad it's no continuousperformance."
He went over the ridge, she following. A moment later they werelooking down upon the "Laughing Water" claim from that self-sameeminence from which Searle Bostwick had seen it when he rode one dayfrom the Indian reservation.
"This," said Van, "is home."
"Oh," said the girl, and tears sprang into her eyes.
And a very home, indeed, it presently seemed, when they came to theshack, where Gettysburg, Napoleon, old Dave, and even Algy, the Chinesecook, came forth to give them cordial welcome.
Beth was introduced to all as Glenmore Kent--and passed inspection.
"Brother of Miss Beth Kent," said Van, "who honored us once with avisit to the Monte Cristo fiasco. He's been lost on the desert andhe's too done up to talk, so I want him to be fed and entertained. Andof the two requirements, the feed's more important than the vaudevilleshow, unless your stunts can put a man to sleep."
Algy and Gettysburg got the impromptu breakfast together. The placersluices outside were neglected. Nobody wished to shovel sand for goldwhen marvelous tales might be exchanged concerning the wind storm thathad raged across the hills the day before.
Indeed, as Van and Beth sat together at the board, regaling themselveslike the two famished beings they were, their three entertainersproceeded to liberate some of the tallest stories concerning stormsthat mortal ever heard.
Napoleon and Gettysburg became the hottest of rivals in an effort todeliver something good. Gettysburg furnished a tale of a breeze in theunpeopled wilds of Nebraska where two men's farms, fully twenty milesapart, had undergone an astounding experience whereby a completeexchange of their houses, barns, and sheds had been effected by acyclone, without the slightest important damage to the structures.
When this was concluded, Napoleon looked pained. "I think you lie,Gett--metaphorical speakin'!" he hastened to add. "But shiver mybowsprit if I didn't see a ship, once, ten days overdue, jest snatchedup and blowed into port two days ahead of time, and never touchednothing all the way, I remember the year 'cause that was the winter mahad twins and pa had guinea pigs."
"Wal," drawled Dave, who had all this time maintained a dignifiedsilence, "I've saw some wind, in my time, but only one that was reallya leetle mite too obstreperous. Yep, that was a pretty good blow--theonly wind I ever seen which blew an iron loggin' chain off the fence,link by link."
Napoleon paid Dave a compliment. He said:
"You old son of a gun!"
Van thought the storms had raged sufficiently.
"Is work unpopular, or did the wind blow the water from the creek?"
"I like to work," admitted Gettysburg, "but it's fun to watch youepicures eatin'."
Beth felt embarrassed.
"Epicures?" echoed Napoleon. "You don't know what an epicure is?That's a vulgar remark when you don't know no meaning of a word."
"Epicure? Me not know what an epicure is?" replied old Gettysburgaggressively. "You bet I do. An epicure's a feller which chaws hisfodder before he swallers it."
Napoleon subsided. Then he arose and sauntered out to work, Dave andGettysburg following. Van hastily drank his cup of coffee, which, ashe had predicted, was not particularly good, and started for theothers. He halted in the door.
"Make yourself comfortable, if you can here, Kent," he said. "You hadan exhausting experience yesterday. Perhaps you had better lie down."
Beth merely said: "Thank you." But her smile was more radiant thansunshine.
The Furnace of Gold Page 27
