That Girl Montana

by Marah Ellis Ryan

  CHAPTER XVI.

  THROUGH THE NIGHT.

  The soft dusk of the night had fallen over the northern lands, and thepale stars had gleamed for hours on the reflecting waves of mountainstreams. It was late--near midnight, for the waning sickle of the moon wasslipping from its dark cover in the east and hanging like a jewel of goldjust above the black crown of the pines. Breaths from the heights sifteddown through the vast woods, carrying sometimes the dreary twitter of abird disturbed, or the mellow call of insects singing to each other of thesummer night. All sounds of the wilderness were as echoes of rest andutter content.

  And in the camp of the Twin Springs, shadows moved sometimes with asilence that was scarce a discord in the wood songs of repose. A camp fireglimmered faintly a little way up from the stream, and around it slept theIndian boatman, the squaw, and old Akkomi, who, to the surprise ofOverton, had announced his intention of remaining until morning, that hemight know how the sickness went with the little "Girl-not-Afraid."

  A dim light showed through the chinks of 'Tana's cabin, where Miss Lavina,the doctor, and Lyster were on guard for the night. The doctor had grownsleepy and moved into Harris' room, where he could be comfortable onblankets. Lyster, watching the girl, was trying to make himself think thattheir watching was all of no use; her sleep seemed so profound, sohealthfully natural, that he could not bring himself to think, as Dan did,that the doctor's worst prophecy could come true--that out of that sleepshe might awake to consciousness, or that, on the other hand, she mightdrift from sleep to lethargy and thus out of life.

  Outside a man stood peering in through a chink from which he hadstealthily pulled the moss. He could not see the girl's face, but he couldsee that of Lyster as he bent over, listening to her breathing, and hewatched it as if to glean some reflected knowledge from the young fellow'searnest glances.

  He had been there a long time. Once he slipped away for a short distanceand stood in the deeper shadows, but he had returned, and was listening tothe low, disjointed converse of the watchers within, when suddenly a tallform loomed up beside him and a heavy hand was dropped on his shoulder.

  "Not a word!" said a voice close to his ear. "If you make a noise, I'llstrangle you! Come along!"

  To do otherwise was not easy, for the hand on his shoulder had a helpfulgrip. He was almost lifted over the ground until they were several yardsfrom the cabin, and out in the clearer light of the stars.

  "Well, I protest, Mr. Overton, that your manner is not very pleasant,"remarked the captive, as he was released and allowed to speak. "Is--isthis sort of threats a habit of yours with strangers in your camp?"

  Overton, seeing him now away from the thick shadows of the cabin, gave alow exclamation of astonishment and irritation.

  "_You_--Mr. Haydon! Well, you must confess that if my threats are notpleasant, neither is it pleasant to find some one moving like a spyaround that little girl's cabin. If you don't want to be treated like aspy, don't act like one."

  "Well, it does look queer, maybe," said the other, lamely. "I--I could notget asleep, and as I was walking around, it seemed natural to look in thecabin, though I did not want to disturb them by going in. I think I heardthem say she was improving."

  "Did they say that--lately?" asked Overton, earnestly, everything elseforgotten for the moment in his strong desire for her recovery. "Who saidit--Miss Slocum? Well, she seems like a sensible woman, and I hope to Godshe is right about this! Don't mind my roughness just now. I was tooquick, maybe; but spies around a new gold mine or field are given prettyharsh treatment up here sometimes; and you were liable to suspicion fromany one."

  "No doubt--no doubt," agreed the other, with visible relief. "But to be asuspected character is a new role for me--a bit amusing, too. However, nowthat you have broached the subject of this new find of yours, I presumeLyster made clear to you that I came up here for the express purpose ofinvestigating what you have to offer, with a view to making a deal withyou. And as my time here will be limited--"

  "Perhaps to-morrow we can talk of it. I can't to-night," answered Overton."To that little girl in there one-third of the stock belongs; anotherthird belongs to that paralyzed man in the other cabin. I have to lookafter the interests of them both, and need to have my head clear to do it.But with her there sick--dying maybe--I can't think of dollars and cents."

  "You mean to tell me that the young girl is joint owner of a gold findpromising a fortune? Why, I understood Max to say she was poor--in fact,indebted to you for all care."

  "Max is too careless with his words," answered Overton, coldly. "She is inmy care--yes; but I do not think she will be poor."

  "She has a very conscientious guardian, anyway," remarked Mr. Haydon,"when it is impossible for a man even to look in her cabin without findingyou on his track. I confess I am interested in her. Can you tell me howshe came in this wild country? I did not expect to find pretty young whitegirls in the heart of this wilderness."

  "I suppose not," agreed the other.

  They had reached the little camp fire by this time, and he threw some drysticks on the red coals. As the blaze leaped up and made bright the circlearound them, he looked at the stranger and said, bluntly:

  "What did Akkomi tell you of her?"

  "Akkomi?"

  "Yes; the old Indian who went in with you to see her."

  "Oh, that fellow? Some gibberish."

  "I guess he must have said that she looks like you," decided Overton. "Irather think that was it."

  "Like _me_! Why--how--" and Mr. Haydon tried to smile away the absurdityof such a fancy.

  "For there is a resemblance," continued the younger man, with utterindifference to the stranger's confusion. "Of course it may not meananything--a chance likeness. But it is very noticeable when your hat isoff, and it must have impressed the old Indian, who seems to thinkhimself a sort of godfather to her. Yes, I guess that was why he spoke toyou."

  "But her--her people? Are there only you and these Indians to claim her?She must have some family--"

  "Possibly," agreed Overton, curtly. "If she ever gets able to answer, youcan ask her. If you want to know sooner, there is old Akkomi; he can tellyou, perhaps."

  But Mr. Haydon made a gesture of antipathy to any converse with thatindividual.

  "One meets so many astonishing things in this country," he remarked, asthough in extenuation of something. "The mere presence of such a savage inthe sick girl's room is enough to upset any one unused to this borderlife--it upset me completely. You see, I have a daughter of my own backEast."

  "So Max tells me," replied Overton, carelessly, all unconscious of theintended honor extended to him when Mr. Haydon made mention of his ownfamily to a ranger of a few hours' acquaintance.

  "Yes," Haydon continued, "and that naturally makes one feel an interest inany young girl without home or--relatives, as this invalid is; and I wouldbe glad of any information concerning her--or any hint of help I might beto her, partly for--humanity's sake, and partly for Max."

  "At present I don't know of any service you could render her," saidOverton, coldly, conscious of a jarring, unpleasant feeling as the mantalked to him. He thought idly to himself how queer it was that he shouldhave an instinctive feeling of dislike for a person who in the slightestdegree resembled 'Tana; and this stranger must have resembled her muchbefore he grew stout and broad of face; the hair, the nose, and otherpoints about the features, were very much alike. He did not wonder thatAkkomi might have been startled at it, and made comments. But as hehimself surveyed Mr. Haydon's features by the flickering light of theburning sticks, he realized how little the likeness of outlines amountedto after all, since not a shadow of expression on the face before him waslike that of the girl whose sleep was so carefully guarded in the cabin.

  And then, with a feeling of thankfulness that it was so, there flashedacross his mind the import of the stranger's closing words--"for the sakeof Max."

  "For Max, you said. Well, maybe I am a little more stupid than usualto-night, but I must
own up I can't see how a favor to 'Tana could affectMax very much."

  "You do not?"

  "I tell you so," said Overton curtly, not liking the knowing smile in theeyes of the speaker. He did not want to be there talking to him, anyway.To walk alone under the stars was better than the discord of a voiceunpleasant. Under the stars she had come to him that once--once, when shehad been clasped close--close! when she had whispered words near to hisheart, and their hands had touched in the magnetism of troubled joy. Ah!it was best to remember that, though death itself follow after! A short,impatient sigh touched his lips as he tried to listen to the words of thestranger while his thoughts were elsewhere.

  "And Seldon would do something very handsome for Max if he married to suithim," Haydon was saying, thoughtfully. "Seldon has no children, you know,and if this girl was sent to school for a while, I think it would come outall right--all right. I would take a personal interest to the extent oftalking to Seldon of it. He will think it a queer place for Max to comefor a wife; but when--when I talk to him, he will agree. Yes, I canpromise it will be all right."

  "What are you talking of?" demanded Overton, blankly. He had not heardone-half of a very carefully worded idea of Mr. Haydon's. "Max married! Towhom?"

  "You are not a very flattering listener," remarked the other, dryly, "anddon't show much interest in the love affairs of your _protegee_; but itwas of her I was speaking."

  "You--you would try to marry her to Max Lyster--marry her!" and his voicesounded in his own ears as strange and far away.

  "Well, it is not an unusual prophecy to make of a young girl, is it?"asked Mr. Haydon, with an attempt to be jocular. "And I don't know whereshe could find a better young fellow. From his discourses concerning heron our journey here and his evident devotion since our arrival, I fancythe idea is not so new to him as it seems to be to you, Mr. Overton."

  "Nonsense! when she is well, they quarrel as often as theyagree--oftener."

  "That is no proof that he is not in love with her--and why not? She is apretty girl, a bright girl, he says, and of good people--"

  "He knows nothing about her people," interrupted Overton.

  "But you do?"

  "I know all it has been necessary for me to know," and, in spite ofhimself, he could not speak of 'Tana to this man without a feeling ofanger at his persistence. "But I can't help being rather surprised, Mr.Haydon, that you should so quickly agree that a wise thing for yourpartner's nephew to do is to turn from all the cultured, intelligent girlshe must know, and look for a wife among the mining camps of the Kootenaihills. And, considering the fact that you approve of it, without everhaving heard her speak, without knowing in the least who or what herfamily have been--I must say it is an extraordinarily impulsive thing fora man of your reputation to do--a cool-headed, conservative businessman."

  Mr. Haydon found himself scrutinized very closely, very coldly by theranger, who had all the evening kept away from him, and whom he hadmentally jotted down as a big, careless, improvident prospector, untaughtand a bit uncouth.

  But his words were not uncouth as he launched them at the older man, andhe was no longer careless as he watched the perturbation with which theywere received. But Haydon shrugged his shoulders and attempted to lookindifferent.

  "I remarked just now that this was a land of astonishing things," he said,with a tolerant air, "and it surely is so when the most depraved-lookingredskin is allowed admittance to a white girl's chamber, while the mostharmless of Caucasians is looked on with suspicion if he merely shows alittle human interest in her welfare."

  "Akkomi is a friend of her own choosing," answered Overton, "and a friendwho would be found trusty if he was needed. As to you--you have no right,that I know of, to assume any direction of her affairs. She will chooseher own friends--and her own husband--when she wants them. But while sheis sick and helpless, she is under my care, and even though you were herfather himself, your ideas should not influence her future unless sheapproved you."

  With a feeling of relief he turned away, glad to have in some way givenvent to the irritation awakened in him by the prosperous gentleman fromcivilization.

  The prosperous gentleman saw his form grow dim in the starlight, andthough his face flushed angrily at first, the annoyance gave place to acertain satisfaction as he seated himself on a log by the fire, andrepeated Overton's final words:

  "_'Even though you were her father himself_!' Well, well, Mr. Overton!Your uncivil words have told me more than you intended--namely, that yourown knowledge as to who her father was, or is, seems very slight. So muchthe better, for one of your unconventional order is not the sort of personI should care to have know. 'Even though you were her father himself.'Humph! So he does me the doubtful honor to suppose I may be? It is a nastymuddle all through. I never dreamed of walking into such a net as this.But something must be done, and that is clear; no use trying to shirk it,for Seldon is sure to run across them sooner or later up here--sure. Andif he took a hand in it--as he would the minute he saw her--well, I couldnot count on his being quiet about it, either. I've thought it all outthis evening. I've got to get her away myself--get her to school, get herto marry Max, and all so quietly that there sha'n't be any socialsensation about her advent into the family. I hardly know whether thiswealth they talk of will be a help or a hindrance; a help, I suppose. Andthere need not be any hitch in the whole affair if the girl is onlyreasonable and this autocratic ranger can be ignored or bought over tosilence. It would be very annoying to have such family affairs talkedof--annoying to the girl, also, when she lives among people who object toscandals. Gad! how her face did strike me! I felt as if I had seen aghost. And that cursed Indian!"

  Altogether, Mr. Haydon had considerable food for reflection, and much ofit was decidedly annoying; or so it seemed to Akkomi, who lay in theshadow and looked like a body asleep, as were the others. But from a foldof his blanket he could see plainly the face of the stranger and note theperplexity in it.

  The first tender flush of early day was making the stars dim when thedoctor met Overton between the tents and the cabins, and surveyed himcritically from his slouch hat to his boots, on which were splashes ofwater and fresh loam.

  "What, in the name of all that's infernal, has taken possession of you,Overton?" he demanded, with assumed anger and real concern. "You have notbeen in bed all night. I know, for I've been to your tent. You prowlsomewhere in the woods when you ought to be in bed, and you are lookinglike a ghost of yourself."

  "Oh, I guess I'll last a day or two yet, so quit your growling; you thinkyou'll scare me into asking for some of your medicines; but that is whereyou will find yourself beautifully left. I prefer a natural death."

  "And you will find it, too, if you don't mend your ways," retorted the manof the medicines. "I thought at first it was the care of 'Tana that keptyou awake every hour of every night; but I see it is just the same nowwhen there are plenty to take your place; worse--for now you go tramping,God only knows where, and come back looking tired, as though you hadbeen racing with the devil."

  "You haven't told me how she is," was all the answer he made to thistirade. "You said--that by daylight--"

  "There would be a change--yes, and there is; only a shadow of a change asyet, but the shadow leans the right way."

  "The _right_ way," he half whispered, and walked on toward her cabin. Hefelt dizzy and the tears crept up in his eyes, and he forgot the doctor,who looked after him and muttered statements damaging to Dan's sanity.

  All the long night he had fought with himself to keep away, to let theothers care for her--the others, who fancied they were giving him awished-for rest. And all the while the desire of his heart was to bar themout--to wait, alone with her, for the life or death that was to come. Hehad walked miles in his restlessness, but could not have found again thepaths he walked over. He had talked with some of the people who werewakeful in the night, but could scarce have told of any words he hadsaid.

  He had felt dazed by the dread of what the new day woul
d bring, and now helooked up at the morning star with a great thankfulness in his heart. Thenew day had come, and with it a breath of hope.

  Miss Lavina met him at the door, and whispered that the doctor thought thefever had taken the hoped-for turn for the better. 'Tana had opened hereyes but a moment before, and looked at Miss Slocum wonderingly, but fellasleep again; she had looked rational, but very weak.

  "Well, old fellow, I am proud of myself," said Lyster, as Overton entered."It took Miss Slocum and me only one night to bring 'Tana around severaldegrees nearer health. We are the nurses! And if she only wakesconscious--"

  His words, or else the intense, wistful gaze of the man at the foot of thebed, must have aroused her, for she moved and opened her eyes and lookedaround aimlessly, passing over the faces of Miss Slocum, of the squaw, andof Overton, until Lyster, close beside her, whispered her name. Then herlips curved ever so little in a smile as her eyes met his.

  "Max!" she said, and put out her hand to him. As his fingers clasped it,she turned her face toward him, and fell contentedly asleep again, withher cheek against his hand.

  And Mr. Haydon, who came in with the doctor a moment later, glanced at thepicture they made, and smiled meaningly at Overton.

  "You see, I was right," he observed. "And do you not think it would be avery exacting guardian who could object?"

  Overton only looked at Max, whose face had flushed a little, knowing howsignificant his attitude must appear to others. But his hand remained inhers, and his eyes turned to Dan with a half embarrassed confession inthem--a confession Dan read and understood.

  "Yes, you may well be proud, Max," he said, answering Lyster's words. "Youdeserve all gratitude; and I hope--I hope nothing but good luck will comeyour way."

  Mr. Haydon, who watched him with critical eyes, could read nothing in hiswords but kindliest concern for a friend.

  The doctor, who had suddenly got a ridiculous idea in his head that DanOverton was wearing himself out on 'Tana's account, changed his mind andsilently called himself a fool. He might have known Dan had more sensethan that. Yet, what was it that had changed him so?

  Twenty-four hours later he thought he knew.