by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MARY V CONFRONTS JOHNNY
Johnny was in one of his hurry-up moods now. He had the material torepair his plane, he had the aviator who could help him far, far betterthan could his cold-blooded, printed instructions. Remained only thesmall matter of annihilating time and distance so that the work couldstart.
In his zeal Johnny nearly annihilated the aviator as well. He rode fastfor two reasons: He was in a great hurry to get back to camp, and he hada long way to go: and the long-legged, half-broken bronk he was ridingwas in a greater hurry than Johnny, and did not care how far he had togo. So far as they two were concerned, the pace suited. But Sandy refusedto be left behind, and he also objected to a rider that rode soggily,ka-lump, ka-lump, like a bag of meal tied to the horn with one saddlestring. Sandy pounded along with his ears laid flat against his skull,for spite keeping to the roughest gait he knew, short of pitching. BlandHalliday pounded along in the saddle, tears of pain in his opaque eyes,caused by having bitten his tongue twice.
"For cat's sake, is this the only way of getting to your camp?" hegasped, when Johnny and the bronk mercifully slowed to climb a steeparroyo bank.
"Unless yuh fly," Johnny assured him happily, hugging the thought that,however awkward he might be when he first essayed to fly, it would behumanly impossible to surpass the awkwardness of Bland Halliday in thesaddle.
"Believe me, bo, we'll fly, then, if I have to _build_ a plane!" Hallidaylet go the saddle horn just long enough to draw the back of his grimywrist across his perspiring face. "And I've heard folks claim they_liked_ to ride on a horse!" he added perplexedly.
Johnny grinned and turned off the road to ride straight across thecountry. It would be rough going for the aviator, but it would shortenthe journey ten or twelve miles, which meant a good deal to Johnny'speace of mind.
He did not feel it necessary to inform his expert assistant that SinkholeCamp was accessible to wagons, carts, buckboards--automobiles, even, ifone was lucky in dodging rocks, and the tires held out. It had occurredto him that it might be very good policy to make this a trip ofunpleasant memories for Bland Halliday. He would work on that plane withmore interest in the job. The alternative of a ticket and "eating money"to Los Angeles had been altogether too easy, Johnny thought. There shouldbe certain obstacles placed between Sinkhole and the ticket.
So he placed them there with a thoroughness that lathered the horses,tough as they were. Johnny Jewel knew his Arizona--let it go at that.
"Say, bo, do we have to ride down in there?" came a wail from behindwhen Johnny's horse paused to choose the likeliest place to jump off athree-foot rim of rock that fenced a deep gash.
"Yep--ride or fly. Why? This ain't bad," Johnny chirped, never lookingaround.
"Honest to Pete, I'm ready to croak right now! I can loop and I can writemy initials in fire on a still night--but damned if I do a nose-dive withnothing but a horse under me. He--his control's on the blink! He don'tbalance to suit me. Aw, say! Lemme walk! Honest--"
"And get snake-bit?" Johnny glanced back and waved his hand airily justas his horse went over like a cat jumping off a fence. "Come on! Let yourhorse have his head. He'll make it."
"Me? I ain't got his head! Sa-ay, where's--" He trailed off into amumble, speaking always from the viewpoint of a flyer. Johnny, listeningwhile he led the way down a blind trail to the bottom, caught a word nowand then and decided that Bland Halliday must surely be what he claimedto be, or he would choose different terms for his troubles. He would not,for instance, be wondering all the while what would happen if Sandy did aside-slip; nor would he have openly feared a "pancake" at the landing.
Johnny let the horses drink at a water hole, permitted the fellow fiveminutes or so in which to make sure that he was alive and that aches didnot necessarily mean broken bones, and led the way on down that smallcanon and out across the level toward another gulch, heading straight forSinkhole much as a burdened ant goes through, over, or under whateverlies in its path.
It was a very good way to reach home quickly, but it had one drawbackwhich Johnny could not possibly have foreseen. It brought him face toface with Mary V without any chance at all of retreating unseen or makinga detour.
The three horses stopped, as range horses have a habit of doing when theymeet like that. The riders stared for a space. Then Bland Halliday turnedhis attention to certain raw places on his person, trying to ease them byputting all his weight on what he termed the foot-controls. Even a prettygirl could not interest him very much just then, and Mary V, I mustconfess, was not looking as pretty as she sometimes looked.
"Well, Johnny Jewel!" said Mary V disapprovingly. "_What_ have youthere?"
"Well, Mary V! _What_ are you doing here?" Johnny echoed promptly,choosing to ignore her question.
"What is that to you, may I ask?" Mary V challenged him.
"What is the other to you, may I ask?" Johnny retorted.
Deadlocked, they looked at each other and tried not to let their eyessmile.
"You're all over your cold, I see," said Mary V meaningly. "You didn'tcome after all to ride with me last Sunday, although you promised tocome."
"Promised? I did? Well, what did you expect? Not me--I'll bet on it."Johnny had been nearly caught, but he recovered himself in time, hebelieved.
"I expected you wouldn't know the first thing about it--which you didn't.Oh, there's something here I want to show you." She tilted her headbackward, and gave him a warning scowl, and rode slowly away.
Johnny followed, uncomfortably mystified. She did not go more than fiftyyards--just out of the hearing of the stranger. She stopped and pointedher finger at a rock which was like any other rock in that locality.
"What is that fellow doing here? He can't ride. I saw you, when you cameout of the canon, so he isn't a new hand. And why did somebody answeryour telephone for you, and pretend he had a cold so dad wouldn't know hewas a stranger? Dad didn't, for that matter, but _I_ knew, the very firstwords he spoke. And what are you up to, Johnny Jewel? You better tell me,because I shall find out anyway."
"Go to it!" Johnny defied her. "If you're going to find out anyway,what's the use of me telling yuh?"
"Who was it answered your 'phone? You better tell me that, because if Iwere to just _hint_ to dad--"
"What would you hint? I've been answering the 'phone pretty regularly,seems to me. And can't I have a cold and get over it if I want to? Andcan't I fool you with my voice? You'd pine away if you didn't have somemystery to mill over. You ought to be glad--"
"You weren't at Sinkhole camp that night I 'phoned." Mary V looked at himaccusingly.
"Oh, _weren't_ I?" Johnny took refuge in mockery. "How do you know?"
Naturally, Mary V disliked to tell him how she knew. She shied from thesubject. "You're the most _secretive_ thing; you are doing something daddoesn't know about, but you ought to know better than to think you canfool _me_. Really, I should not like to see you get into trouble with myfather, even though--"
"Even though I am merely your father's hired man. I get you, perfectly.Why not let papa's hired man take care of himself?"
Mary V flushed angrily. Johnny was reminding her of the very beginning oftheir serial quarrel, when he had overheard her telling a girl guest atthe ranch that Johnny Jewel was "only one of my father's hired men." MaryV had not been able to explain to Johnny that the girl guest hadexhibited altogether too great an interest in his youth and his goodlooks, and had frankly threatened a flirtation. The girl guest wassomething of the snob, and Mary V had taken the simplest, surest way ofsquelching her romantic interest. She had done that effectually, but shehad also given Johnny Jewel a mortal wound in the very vitals of hisyoung egotism.
"We are so short-handed this season!" Mary V explained sweetly. "And dadis so stubborn, he'd fire the last man on the ranch if he caught himdoing things he didn't like. And if he doesn't get all the horses brokenand sold that he has set his heart on selling, he says he won't be ableto buy me a new car this fall. Ther
e's the _dearest_ little sport Normanthat I want--"
"Hope you get it, I'm sure. I'll take an airplane for mine. In themeantime, you're holding up a hired hand when he's in a hurry to get onthe job again. That won't get you any sport Normans, nor buy gas for theone you've got."
"That man--" Mary V lowered her voice worriedly. "I know something nastyand unpleasant about him. I can't remember what it is, but I shall. I'veseen him somewhere. What is he doing here? You might tell me that much."
"Why, he's going to stay over night with me. Maybe a little longer. I'mwilling to pay for all he eats, if that--"
"Shame on you! Why _must_ you be so perfectly intolerable? I hope hestays long enough to steal the coat off your back. He's a crook. Hecouldn't be anything else, with those eyes."
"Poor devil can't change the color of his eyes; but that's a girl'sreason, every time. You better be fanning for home, Mary V. You've nobusiness out this far alone. I think I'll have to put your dad wise tothe way you drift around promiscuous. You can't tell when a stray greasermight happen along. No, I mean it! You're always kicking about my doingthings I shouldn't; well, you've got to quit riding around alone the wayyou do. What if I had been somebody else--a greaser, maybe?"
Mary V had seen Johnny angry, often enough, but she had never seen justthat look in his eyes; a stern anxiety that rather pleased her.
"Why, I should have said '_Como esta Vd_,' and ridden right along. If hehad been half as disagreeable as you have been, I expect maybe I'd haveshot him. Go on home to Sinkhole, why don't you? I'm sure _I_ don't enjoythis continual bickering." She rode five steps away from him, and pulledup again. "Of course you want me to tell dad you have a--a guest atSinkhole camp?"
Johnny gave a little start, opened his lips and closed them. Opened themagain and said, "You'll suit yourself about that--as usual." If shethought he would beg her to keep this secret or any other, she wasmistaken.
"Oh, thank you so much. I shall tell him, then--of course."
She gave her head a little tilt that Johnny knew of old, and rode away atas brisk a trot as Tango could manage on that rough ground.
"Some chicken!" Bland Halliday grinned wryly when Johnny waved him tocome on. "Great place to keep a date, I must say."
Johnny turned upon him furiously. "You cut that out--quick! Or hoof itback to the railroad after I've licked the stuffin' outa you. That girlis a real girl. You don't need to speak to her or about her. She ain'tyour kind."
