CHAPTER XXI
"My dear boy, I'm glad to see you!" called Sydney.
"Larry O'Hara chopping wood! Impossible!" declared Hope, as Carter rodeon past her. "It's an illusion--a vanishing vision. Our eyes deceiveus!"
"But it is a young man there," said Louisa. "A big one like Mr.Livingston, not so slim like Sydney--your cousin."
"True enough," laughed Hope. "But it is the occupation--the ax, Louisa,dear. I never knew Larry to do a stroke of work!"
"Ach, but he is handsome!" whispered Louisa.
"Don't let him know you think so," returned Hope. "He's spoiled badlyenough now." She turned to the man who rode on her opposite side. "He'sfrom the ranch--one of the guests from New York. He's the _dearest_character!" After which exclamation she rode ahead and greeted thenewcomer.
"It never rains but it pours," said O'Hara, as he entered the tent withHope and Louisa, while Sydney and Livingston remained to take care ofthe horses. "I thought awhile ago that I was stranded in a wilderness,and here I am surrounded by beautiful ladies and foine gentlemen!"
"Right in your natural element," commented Hope. "That's why I couldn'tbelieve my eyes when I saw you out there alone with the ax--Larry O'Harachopping fire-wood!"
"Now, what's there funny about that?" asked Larry.
"I can't explain just now," laughed the girl. "But tell me, did you haveany trouble getting over here? Jim started for the ranch this afternoon.Didn't you meet him on the road?"
"Not one living soul," replied Larry. "For I took a road nobody evertraveled before."
"And got lost," said Hope.
"Yes, about four hundred toimes!"
"And yet you live to tell the tale! I'm awfully glad to see you, Larry!Let's have a light in here, William, it's getting dark," she said.
The cook hustled about, and soon two lanterns, suspended from each endof the ridge pole, flooded the tent with light.
"Now I can see you," exclaimed O'Hara to Hope, who had taken a seat upona box beside Louisa. "You're looking foine! The mountains must agreewith you--and your friend also," he added.
"Louisa is always fine! Are you not?" asked Hope.
Louisa laughed in her quiet little way. "The young man is very polite!"
Sydney opened the flap of the tent and looked in, then turned back againfor an instant.
"That'll be all right there, Livingston. There won't a thing touch it upthat tree! Come along in and get some chuck!"
"All right!" came the reply from the edge of the brush. Then Carter cameinside and drew up a seat beside the two girls.
"What's that you said, Miss Louisa?" he asked. "I didn't quite catch it.You surely weren't accusing Larry of _politeness_!"
The girl bit her little white teeth into the red of her lower lip. Hercheeks flushed and the dimples came and went in the delicate coloring.
"Was it wrong to say?" she asked hesitatingly.
"Not if it was true," he replied. "It's never wrong to tell the truth,even in Montana."
"Oh, Syd, don't plague her! Larry included her in a little flattery--acompliment; and she merely remarked upon his extreme politeness."
"And I am completely squelched," said O'Hara despairingly.
"Then you shouldn't try to flatter two people at once," declared Hope.
"American girls aren't so honest," said Carter, looking soberly intoLouisa's blue eyes.
She regained her composure with a little toss of her head.
"An American girl is my best friend--you shall say nodings about _dem_!Ah, here comes Mr. Livingston mit de beautiful horns which he gif tome!" she cried, clapping her hands.
"They're beauties, aren't they?" said Livingston, holding up the antlersto view. "I'll get some of the Indians around here to fix them up foryou." He took them outside again, then came in and joined the othersaround the camp table.
"Mr. Livingston was the lucky one to-day," said Hope to O'Hara; "but wehad a great hunt."
"I am not at all sure that I got him," said Livingston, seating himselfbeside her. "I am positive another shot was fired at the same time, butI looked around and saw no one. You came up a few moments afterward,Miss Hathaway, and I have had a sort of rankling suspicion ever sincethat there was some mystery about it."
"Then clear your mind of it at once," replied the girl. "I'll admitthat I fired a shot at the same instant you did, but I was on theopposite side of the brush from where you were, and didn't see theantelope at all. What I aimed at was a large black speck in the skyabove me, and this is my trophy." She drew from her belt a glossy, darkeagle's feather, and handed it to him.
"May I have this?" he asked, taking it from her.
"Why, certainly," she answered carelessly.
O'Hara had been looking at Livingston closely, as though extremelyperplexed by his appearance. Suddenly he gave a deep laugh, jumped upfrom his seat and began shaking him warmly by the hand.
"Well, if this isn't----"
"_Edward Livingston_," interrupted the other briefly.
"But who'd ever dream of seeing _you_ here in this country!" continuedO'Hara. "It was too dark to see you distinctly when you rode up, or I'dhave known you at once. I'm glad to see you; indeed, I am, sir!"
"How romantic!" exclaimed Hope. "Where did you ever meet Larry, Mr.Livingston?"
"I had the privilege of meeting Mr. O'Hara at the home of anacquaintance near London two or three years ago. I am very glad to havethe pleasure again." O'Hara was about to say something in reply to this,but thought better of it, and remained silent, while Livingstoncontinued: "I never imagined that I should meet my Irish-American friendin this far country, though you Americans do have a way of appearing inthe most unexpected places. This America is a great country. I likeit--in fact, well enough that I have now become one of its citizens."
"But you have not left England for good!" exclaimed O'Hara.
"For good, and for all time," replied Livingston, the youthfulexpression of his face settling into maturer lines of sadness. "I havenot one tie left. My friend, Carter here, will tell you that I havesettled down in these mountains as a respectable sheep-man--respectable,if not dearly beloved. Miss Hathaway does not believe there can beanything respectable about the sheep business, but I have promised toconvert her. Is that not so?" he asked, turning to her.
"He has promised to give me a pet lamb to take back to the ranch," shesaid, laughing. "I shall put a collar on its neck and lead it by a blueribbon! At least it will be as good an ornament as Clarice VanRensselaer's poodle. Horrible little thing!"
"Now just imagine the beautiful Mrs. Larry O'Hara trailing that kind ofa baist about the streets of New York! I move that the animal berejected with thanks!" exclaimed Larry. Livingston looked at him inquiet amazement, then at Hope and Sydney to see how they took hisaudacity.
"Don't worry, Larry, dear," replied Hope. "The pet lamb hasn't beenaccepted yet--or you, either! I shall probably choose the pet lamb, butrely on my good judgment, that's a nice boy, and don't let such a littlematter bother you!"
Larry heaved an unnaturally deep sigh, at which little Louisa laughed,and Sydney patted him upon the shoulder, exclaiming:
"Cheer up! You have an even chance with the lamb. You don't need to beafraid of such a rival!"
"But she says herself that the animal's chances are the best," saidLarry dismally. Then with a sudden inspiration: "How much'll you takefor that baist? I'll buy him of you--_Mr._ Livingston!"
"Now's your chance to make some money!" cried Sydney.
Livingston quickly entered the mood of the moment.
"Miss Hathaway has an option on the lamb," he said, looking at her. "Ifshe wants to throw it up I shall be glad to sell it to you."
"She wants her supper mostly now," said Hope. "Come on, let's eat, forwe must get back. See all the fine things William has prepared for us!"
After the meal, when the girls rose to depart, Larry insisted uponaccompanying them home.
"I am going along, too," laughed Sydney, "so I'll see that he gets ba
ckto camp all right! You might as well let him go, Hope."
"Well, if he is so foolish, after his hard day's ride," she said, with ashrug of the shoulders. "But get him a fresh horse, Sydney. At least wecan spare the poor tired animal!"
Sydney and O'Hara both went a short distance away to get thesaddle-horse which was feeding quietly on the hillside. Hope led herhorse down to the water and while it was drinking Livingston came andstood beside her.
For a moment they remained there quiet, side by side, then the manspoke:
"It is of such as this that life's sweetest moments are made. It seemsalmost a sacrilege to break the spell, but I cannot always be silent.You know I love you, Hope!"
"Yes," she replied carelessly, "I believe you told me so once before."For an instant he did not speak. "It was here at the camp, anotherevening like this, wasn't it?" she continued, in quite a matter-of-facttone.
"I will not believe that you have forgotten it," he exclaimed softly."It may have sounded foolish to you to hear the words, but I could nothelp saying them!" He stood so close to her that he could feel her warmbreath. "It may be wrong to stand here with you now, alone. How quiet itis! You and I together in a little world of our own! How I love you, mygirl, _love you_! I may not have the right to this much happiness, butthere is no moral law that man or God has made to prevent a man fromsaying to the woman he loves, 'I love you!' Are you--do you care that Ihave said it?"
"You must not--tell me again," she said, in a voice so forced that itseemed to belong to some other person. Then she turned abruptly and ledher horse past him, up the bank of the creek, to Louisa waiting beforethe tent.
Hope Hathaway: A Story of Western Ranch Life Page 21
