The Deer Stalker

by Zane Grey

  Eburne could not very well run, because he was too stiff with cold and cramps, but he managed to plod through the deep snow around on the side street to the house Sue had rented. The blinds were drawn, but Eburne saw that behind them a bright light burned.

  He tramped up the little porch and thumped on the door. He could feel the thump of his heart, too. A door opened inside, quick steps sounded in the hall. Then the outside door opened to disclose Sue. She started back in fright.

  “It’s Thad,” announced Eburne, stepping over the threshold. “Frozen stiff, starved to death—but happy.”

  “Thad Eburne!” she cried joyously, and she pulled down his snow-covered head to kiss his cheek. “Oh, you snowy bear! I’m shore glad to see you. Is Nels all right? With you?”

  “He’ll be here pronto, he says,” replied Eburne as he closed the door. “I think he wanted to clean up a little. But I couldn’t wait. I’ve got to see Patricia. Then I’ll run back to the hotel and make myself presentable.”

  “She’s in heah,” replied Sue, with her hand going to a door in the dimly lighted hall. Then she whispered, “Let me give you a hunch. Be shore to grab her like a cave man before she can get over her surprise.”

  She flung open the door, letting out a flood of light. “Patricia, look who’s heah!”

  Eburne strode into the room, almost blinded by the glare, while Sue shut the door without entering. He heard a quick, low exclamation. His heart had not yet left his throat where Sue’s extraordinary advice had sent it. Then he saw her. She was rising, lips parted, dark eyes dilating, one white hand pressed to her bosom. A magazine fell from her lap.

  “Thad—is it you?” she cried.

  How the rich, well-remembered voice rang through him.

  “Yes, Patricia—all that’s left of me,” he replied huskily, finding it suddenly hard to speak. There was something subtly different about her, something softer in her face, sweeter and less aloof. “I just want—one look at you. Then I’ll go make myself presentable.”

  “Oh, Thad, I didn’t know you,” she cried, gliding to him. “Why, you muddy, snowy, grimy, terrible man.”

  But his frightful appearance did not keep her from clasping his hand in both of hers, and then raising them to his muffled wet shoulders while she gazed up at him in a way to make him realize what Sue had hinted was no wild dream.

  “Patricia, I’m—I’m all wet—dirty,” he stammered, almost struck dumb by her nearness and the joy of surprise in her eyes.

  “What do I care how wet and dirty you are?” she exclaimed. “But are you well—and all right?”

  “Worn out, frozen—and starved—especially for sight of you,” he replied.

  “Well, here I am to—to look at.”

  “Are you well—and all right?”

  “Indeed yes—and happy, Thad,” she said tremulously.

  “I’m glad,” he said. He found that his voice, too, was a bit shaky.

  He felt himself standing there like a fool, unable to think or act. How lovely she was! He trembled under the touch of her hands, still on his shoulders.

  “But you don’t ask why I’m happy,” she said, with a shyness that he did not remember in her.

  “It doesn’t matter, so long as you are.”

  “But Thad—it has to do with you—something you asked me at the El Tovar. At dinner. Do you remember?”

  “Every word.”

  “Well, I—I have reconsidered—and—and—if your offer is still open I may—”

  “Patricia!” he whispered hoarsely.

  “It is, then! Very well,” she replied, suddenly composed, though a blush mounted to her cheeks. “I have a letter from an old friend —Alice, the woman for whom I sacrificed my reputation. You must read it.”

  “Patricia, I don’t want—don’t need to read it,” he returned.

  She regarded him with sweet grave eyes, in which shone a light that Eburne had never seen before.

  “But, Thad—” she hesitated and slipped her hands a little farther along and over his shoulders. She was lightly pressing against him now, and a mist of joyous tears suddenly came into her eyes. “But Thad, this letter makes it possible for me to marry you!”

  FINIS