by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER 13. Keith's Masterful Wooing.
Keith faced toward home, with Redcloud following at his heels like a petdog. For some reason, which he did not try to analyze, he was feelinglight of heart--as though something very nice had happened to him.It might have been the unexpected clearing up of the mystery of theprairie-fire, though he was not dwelling particularly upon that. Hewas thinking a great deal more of Beatrice's blue-brown eyes, which hadnever been more baffling, so far as he knew. And his blood was stilldancing with the smile she had given him; it hardly seemed possible thata girl could smile just like that and not mean anything.
When he reached the level, where she was waiting for him, he saw thatshe had her arms around the neck of her horse, and that she was cryingdismally, heart-brokenly, with an abandon that took no thought of hispresence. Keith had never seen a girl cry like that before. He hadseen them dab at their eyes with their handkerchief, and smile the nextbreath--but this was different. For a minute he didn't quite know whatto do; he could hear the blood hammering against his temples while hestood dumbly watching her. He went hesitatingly up, and laid a glovedhand deprecatingly upon her shoulder.
"Don't do that, Miss Lansell! The fellow isn't worth it. He's onlyliving the life he chose for himself, and he doesn't mind, not halfas much as you imagine. I know how you feel--I felt sorry for himmyself--but he doesn't deserve it, you know." He stopped; not beingable, just at the moment, to think of anything more to say about Kelly.Beatrice, who had not been thinking of Kelly at all, but remorsefully ofa fellow she had persisted in misjudging, only cried the harder.
"Don't--don't cry like that! I--Miss Lansell--Trix--darling!" Keith'sself-control snapped suddenly, like a rope when the strain becomes toogreat. He caught her fiercely in his arms, and crushed her close againsthim.
Beatrice stopped crying, and gasped.
"Trixie, if you must cry, I wish you'd cry for me. I'm about asmiserable a man--I want you so! God made you for me, and I'm starvingfor the feel of your lips on mine." Then Keith, who was nothing if notdaring, once he was roused, bent and kissed her without waiting to seeif he might--and not only once, but several times.
Beatrice made a half-hearted attempt to get free of his arms, but Keithwas not a fool--he held her closer, and laughed from pure, primitivejoy.
"Mr. Cameron!" It was Beatrice's voice, but it had never been like thatbefore.
"I think you might call me Keith," he cut in. "You've got to begin sometime, and now is as good a time as any."
"You--you're taking a good deal for granted," she said, wrigglingunavailingly in his arms.
"A man's got to, with a girl like you. You're so used to turning afellow down I believe you'd do it just from habit."
"Indeed?" She was trying to be sarcastic and got kissed for her pains.
"Yes, 'indeed.'" He mimicked her tone. "I want you. I want you! I wantedyou long before I ever saw you. And so I'm not taking any chances--Ididn't dare, you see. I just had to take you first, and ask youafterward."
Beatrice laughed a little, with tears very close to her lashes, andgave up. What was the use of trying to resist this masterful fellow, whowould not even give her a chance to refuse him? She did not know quitehow to say no to a man who did not ask her to say yes. But the queerpart, to her, was the feeling that she would have hated to say no,anyway. It never occurred to her, till afterward, that she mighthave stood upon a pedestal of offended dignity and cried, "Unhand me,villain!"--and that, if she had, Keith would undoubtedly have compliedinstantly. As it was, she just laughed softly, and blushed a good deal.
"I believe mama is right about you, after all," she said wickedly. "Atheart, you're a bold highwayman."
"Maybe. I know I'd not stand and see some other fellow walk off with myHeart's Desire, without putting up a fight. It did look pretty bluefor me, though, and I was afraid--but it's all right now, isn't it?Possession is nine points in law, they say, and I've got you now! I'mgoing to keep you, too. When are you going to come over and take chargeof the Cross ranch?"
"Dear me!" said Beatrice, snuggling against his shoulder, and findingit the best place in the world to be. "I never said I was going to takecharge at all!" Then the impulse of confession seized her. "Will youhate me, if I tell you something?"
"I expect I will," Keith assented, his eyes positively idolatrous. "Whatis it, girlie?"
"Well, I--it was Dick's fault; I never would have thought of such athing if he hadn't goaded me into it--but--well, I was going to makeyou propose, on a wager--" The brown head of Beatrice went down out ofsight, on his arm. "I was going to refuse you--and get Rex--"
"I know." Keith held her closer than ever. "Dick rode over and told methat day. And I wasn't going to give you a chance, missy. If you hadn'tstarted to cry, here-- Oh! what's the use? You didn't refuse me--andyou're not going to, either, are you, girlie?"
Beatrice intimated that there was no immediate danger of such a thinghappening.
"You see, Dick and I felt that you belonged to me, by rights. I fell inlove with a picture of you, that you sent him--that one taken in yourgraduation gown--and I told Dick I was going to take the next trainEast, and carry you off by force, if I couldn't get you any other way.But Dick thought I'd stand a better show to wait till he'd coaxed youout here. We had it all fixed, that you'd come and find a prairie knightthat was ready to fight for you, and he'd make you like him, whetheryou wanted to or not; and then he'd keep you here, and we'd all be happyever after. And Dick would pull out of the Northern Pool--and of courseyou would--and we'd have a company of our own. Oh! we had some greatcastles built out here on the prairie, let me tell you! And then, whenyou finally came here, you had milord tagging along--and you thinkingyou were in love with him! Maybe you think I wasn't shaky, girlie! Theair castles got awfully wobbly, and it looked like they were going tocave in on us. But I was bound to stay in the game if I could, and Dickdid all he could to get you to looking my way--and it's all right, isn'tit, Trixie?" Keith kept recurring to the ecstatic realization that itwas all right.
Beatrice meditated for a minute.
"I never dreamed--Dick never even mentioned you in any of his letters,"she said, in a rather dazed tone. "And when I came he made me believeyou were a horrible flirt, and I never can resist the temptation tomeasure lances."
"And take a fall out of a male flirt," Keith supplemented. "Dick," hewent on sententiously and slangily, "was dead onto his job." After thathe helped her into the saddle, and they rode blissfully homeward.
Near the ranch they met Dick, who pulled up and eyed them anxiously atfirst, and then with a broad smile.
"Say, Trix," he queried slyly, "who does Rex belong to?"
Keith came to the rescue promptly, just as a brave knight should. "You,"he retorted. "But I tell you right now, he won't very long. You're goingto do the decent thing and give him to Trixie--for a wedding present."
Dick looked as though Trix was welcome to any thing he possessed.
CHAPTER 14. Sir Redmond Gets His answer.
"Before long, dear, we shall get on the great ship, and ride across thelarge, large ocean, and be at home. You will be delighted to see Peggy,and Rupert, and the dogs, won't you, dear?" Miss Hayes, her cheeksactually getting some color into them at the thought of going home,buttered a fluffy biscuit for her idol.
Dorman took two bites while he considered. "Rupert'll want my littlewheels, for my feet, what Mr. Cam'ron gave me--but he can't have 'em,dough. I 'spect he'll be mad. I wonder what'll Peggy say bout my twopuppies. I've got to take my two puppies wis me. Will dey get sickriding on de water, auntie? Say, will dey?"
"I--I think not, dear," ventured his auntie cautiously. His auntie was aconscientious woman, and she knew very little about puppies.
"Be'trice will help me take care of dem if dey're sick," he remarkedcomfortably.
Then something in his divinity's face startled his assurance. "You'sgoing wis us, isn't you, Be'trice? I want you to help take care of mytwo puppies. Martha can't, 'cause she slaps d
ere ears. Is you going wisus, Be'trice?"
This, at the dinner table, was, to say the least,embarrassing--especially on this especial evening, when Beatrice wastrying to muster courage to give Sir Redmond the only answer it waspossible to give him now. It was an open secret that, in case she hadaccepted him, the home-going of Miss Hayes would be delayed a bit, whenthey would all go together. Beatrice had overheard her mother and MissHayes discussing this possibility only the day before. She undertook theimpossible, and attempted to head Dorman off.
"Perhaps you'll see a whale, honey. The puppies never saw a whale, I'msure. What do you suppose they'd think?"
"Is you going?"
"You'd have to hold them up high, you know, so they could see, and showthem just where to look, and--"
"Is you going, Be'trice?"
Beatrice sent a quick, despairing glance around the table. Four pairs ofeyes were fixed upon her with varying degrees of interest and anxiety.The fifth pair--Dick's--were trying to hide their unrighteous glee byglaring down at the chicken wing on his plate. Beatrice felt a strongimpulse to throw something at him. She gulped and faced the inevitable.It must come some time, she thought, and it might as well be now--thoughit did seem a pity to spoil a good dinner for every one but Dick, whowas eating his with relish.
"No, honey"--her voice was clear and had the note of finality--"I'm notgoing--ever."
Sir Redmond's teeth went together with a click, and he picked up thepepper shaker mechanically and peppered his salad until it was perfectlyblack, and Beatrice wondered how he ever expected to eat it. Mrs.Lansell dropped her fork on the floor, and had to have a clean onebrought. Miss Hayes sent a frightened glance at her brother. Dick satand ate fried chicken.
"Why, Be'trice? I wants you to--and de puppies'll need you--and auntie,and--" Dorman gathered himself for the last, crushing argument--"andUncle Redmon' wants you awf'lly!"
Beatrice took a sip of ice water, for she needed it.
"Why, Be'trice? Gran-mama'll let you go, guess. Can't she go,gran'mama?"
It was Mrs. Lansell's turn to test the exquisite torture of that pricklychill along the spine. Like Beatrice, she dodged.
"Little boys," she announced weakly, "should not speak until they'respoken to."
Dick came near strangling on a shred of chicken.
"Can't she go, gran'mama? Say, can't she? Tell Be'trice to go home wisus, gran'mama!"
"Beatrice"--Mrs. Lansell swallowed--"is not a little child any longer,Dorman. She is a woman and can do as she likes. I"--she was speaking tothe whole group--"I can only advise her."
Dorman gave a squeal of triumph. "See? You can go, Be'trice! Gran'mamasays you can go. You will go, won't you, Be'trice? Say yes!"
"No!" said Beatrice, with desperate emphasis. "I won't."
"I want--Be'trice--to go-o!" Dorman slid down upon his shoulder blades,gave a squeal which was not triumph, but temper, and kicked the tabletill every dish on it danced.
"Dorman sit up!" commanded his auntie. "Dorman, stop, this instant! I'mashamed of you; where is my good little man? Redmond."
Sir Redmond seemed glad of the chance to do something besides sitquietly in his place and look calm. He got up deliberately, and in twominutes, or less, Dorman was in the woodshed with him, making soundsthat frightened his puppies dreadfully and put the coyotes to shame.
Beatrice left the table hurriedly to escape the angry eyes of hermother. The sounds in the woodshed had died to a subdued sniffling, andshe retreated to the front porch, hoping to escape observation. Thereshe nearly ran against Sir Redmond, who was staring off into the dusk towhere the moon was peering redly over a black pinnacle of the Bear Paws.
She would have slipped back into the house, but he did not give her thechance. He turned and faced her steadily, as he had more than once facedthe Boers, when he knew that before him was nothing but defeat.
"So you're not going to England ever?"
Pride had squeezed every shade of emotion from his voice.
"No." Beatrice gripped her fingers together tightly.
"Are you sure you won't be sorry--afterward?"
"Yes, I'm sure." Beatrice had never done anything she hated more.
Sir Redmond, looking into her eyes, wondered why those much-vauntedsharpshooters, the Boers, had blundered and passed him by.
"I don't suppose it matters much now--but will you tell me why? Ibelieved you would decide differently." He was holding his voice down toa dead level, and it was not easy.
"Because--" Beatrice faced the moon, which threw a soft glow upon herface, and into her wonderful, deep eyes a golden light. "Oh, I'm sorry,Sir Redmond! But you see, I didn't know. I--I just learned to-day whatit means to--to love. I--I am going to stay here. A new company--isabout to be formed, Sir Redmond. The Maltese Cross and the--TriangleBar--are going to cast their lot together." The golden glow deepened anddarkened, and blended with the red blood which flushed cheek and browand throat.
It took Sir Redmond a full minute to comprehend. When he did, hebreathed deep, shut his lips upon words that would have frightened her,and went down the steps into the gloom.
Beatrice watched him stride away into the dusky silence, and her heartached with sympathy for him. Then she looked beyond, to where the lightsof the Cross ranch twinkled joyously, far down the coulee, and the sweetegotism of happiness enfolded her, shutting him out. After that sheforgot him utterly. She looked up at the moon, sailing off to meet thestars, smiled good-fellowship and then went in to face her mother.
