CHAPTER XIII
BUSINESS AT HEART'S DESIRE
_This Describing Porter Barkley's Method with a Man, and Tom Osby's Waywith a Maid_
Dan Anderson sat for a long time on his blanket roll, looking at thedribbling smoke from the ends of the charred pinon sticks. So deep washis preoccupation that he did not at first hear the shuffle of feetapproaching over the carpet of pine needles; and when the sound came tohis consciousness, he wondered merely how Tom Osby had gotten around thecamp and come in on that side of the mountain. Then he looked up. Itwas to see the face that had dwelt in his dreams by night, his reveriesby day, the face that he had seen but now--the "face that was thefairest"! He sat stupid, staring, conscious that Fate had chided himonce more for his unreadiness. Then he sprang up and stared theharder--stared at Constance Ellsworth coming down the slope between herfather and a well-groomed stranger.
The girl looked up, their eyes met; and in that moment Porter Barkleydiscovered that Constance Ellsworth could gaze with brightening eye andheightened color upon another man.
When Ellsworth and Barkley had started from the hotel in search of theengineer's camp, Constance had joined them ostensibly for the sake of awalk in the morning's sun. If it had been in her mind to discover themystery of this man from Heart's Desire, she had kept it to herself. Butnow as they approached the dying fire, she gained the secret of thisstranger who had travelled a week by wagon to listen to a bedizened divaof the stage! The consciousness flashed upon her sharply. Despite hertraitorous coloring, she greeted him but coolly.
Porter Barkley, noticing some things and suspecting others, drew a breathof sudden conviction. With swift jealousy he guessed that this could benone other than the man to whom Ellsworth had referred,--Anderson, thelawyer of Heart's Desire. Why had not Ellsworth told him that Constancealso knew him? Porter Barkley ran his eye over the tall strong figure,the clean brown jaw, the level eyes, sizing up his man with professionalkeenness. He instantly rated him as an enemy dangerous in more ways thanone.
After the first jumbled speeches of surprise, Ellsworth introduced thetwo. Maugre his coatless costume, Dan Anderson was Princeton man uponthe moment, and Barkley promptly hated him for it, feeling that in thenature of things the stranger should have been awkward and constrained.Yet this man must, for business reasons, be handled carefully. He mustbe the business friend, if the personal enemy, of Hon. Porter Barkley,general counsel for the A. P. and S. E. Railway.
The States had come to Sky Top, as Tom Osby had said, and this group,gathered around a mountain fireside, became suddenly as conventional asthough they had met in a drawing-room. "Who could have suspected thatyou were here, of all places, Mr. Anderson?" Constance remarked withpolite surprise.
"Why, now, Dolly," blundered Mr. Ellsworth, "didn't the hotel fellow tellyou that some one had come down from Heart's Desire to hear the latestfrom grand opera--private session--chartered the hall, eh? You mighthave guessed it would be Mr. Anderson, for I'll warrant he's the only manin Heart's Desire that ever heard an opera singer before, or who wouldride a hundred miles--that is--anyhow, Mr. Anderson, you are preciselythe man we want to see." He finished his sentence lamely, for heunderstood in some mysterious fashion that he had not said quite theright thing.
"I am very glad to hear that," replied Dan Anderson, gravely, "I was justsitting here waiting for you to come along."
"Now, Mr. Anderson," resumed Ellsworth, "Mr. Barkley, here, is ourgeneral counsel for the railroad. He's going up to Heart's Desire withus in a day or so to look into several matters. We want to take up thequestion of running our line into the town, if proper arrangements can bemade."
"Take chairs, gentlemen," said Dan Andersen, motioning to a log that laynear by. He had already seated Constance upon the corded blanket rollfrom which he himself had arisen. "I will get you some breakfast," headded.
"No, no," Mr. Ellsworth declined courteously. "We just came frombreakfast. We were moving around trying to find our engineer's camp;Grayson, our chief of location, was to have been here before this. Bythe way, how did you happen to come down here, after all, Anderson?"
Dan Anderson was conscious that this question drew upon him the gaze of apair of searching eyes, yet none the less he met the issue. He glancedat the battered phonograph which leaned dejectedly against a tree.
"As near as I can figure," said he, "I made this pilgrimage to hear awoman's voice." Saying which he leaned over and deliberately kicked thephonograph down the side of the hill.
"I hope you enjoyed it," commented Constance, viciously, her cheeksreddening.
"Very much," replied Dan Anderson, calmly, and he looked squarely at her.
Porter Barkley, quiet and alert, once more saw the glance which passedbetween these two. Into his mind, ever bent upon the business phase ofany problem, there flashed a swift conviction. This was the girl! Here,miraculously at hand, was the girl whom Dan Anderson had known back inthe East, the girl who had sent him West, perhaps the same girl to whomher father had referred! If so, there was certainly a solution for theriddle of Heart's Desire. Piqued as he was, his heart exulted. For thetime his own jealousy must be suppressed. His accounting with DanAnderson on this phase of the matter would come later; meanwhile he musthandle the situation carefully--literally for what it is worth.
"As I was saying," continued Dan Anderson, "what's a breakfast or twoamong friends?"
"If it is among friends," replied Ellsworth, "and if you'll rememberthat, we'll eat with you."
In answer Dan Anderson began to kick together the embers of the fire andto busy himself with dishes. He was resolved to humiliate himself beforethis girl, to show her how absolutely unfit was the life of this land forsuch as herself.
Suddenly he stopped and listened, as there came to his ear the distantthin report of a rifle. Ellsworth looked inquiringly at his host.
"That's my friend, Tom Osby," explained Dan Anderson, "He went out aftera deer. Tom and I came down together from the town."
"I presume you do have some sort of friends in here," began Barkley,patronizingly.
"I have never found any in the world worth having except here," repliedDan Anderson, quietly.
"Oh, now, don't say that. Mr. Ellsworth tells me that he has known youfor a long time, and has the greatest admiration for you as a lawyer."
"Yes, Mr. Ellsworth is very fond of me. He's one of the most passionateadmirers I ever had in my life," said Dan Anderson.
Barkley looked at him again keenly, realizing that he had to do with aquantity not yet wholly known and gauged.
Socially the situation was strained, and he sought to ease it after hisown fashion. "You see," he resumed, "Mr. Ellsworth seems to think thathe can put you in a way of doing something for yourself up at Heart'sDesire."
It was an ugly thing for him to do under the circumstances, but if he hadintended to humiliate the other, he met his just rebuke.
"I don't often talk business at breakfast in my own house," said DanAnderson. "Do you use tabasco with your _frijoles_?"
"Oh, we'll get together, we'll get together," Barkley laughed, with anassumed cordiality which did not quite ring true.
"Thank you," Dan Anderson remarked curtly; "you bring me joy thismorning."
He did not relish this sort of talk in the presence of ConstanceEllsworth. Disgusted with himself and with all things, be arose and madea pretence of searching in the wagon. Rummaging about, his hand struckone of the round, gutta-percha plates which had accompanied thephonograph. With silent vigor he cast it far above the tree tops belowhim on the mountain side.
"That," he explained to Constance as he turned, "is the 'Annie Laurie'record of the Heart's Desire grand opera. The season is now over." Thegirl did not understand, but he lost the hurt look in her eyes.Irritated, he did not hear her soul call out to him.
"It's the luckiest thing in the world that you happen to be here." Mr.Ellsworth took up again the idea that was foremost in his mind. "You fitin l
ike the wheels in a clock. We're going to run our railroad up intoyour town--I don't mind saying that right here--and we're going to giveyou plenty of law business, Mr. Anderson; that is to say, if you want it,and will take it."
"Thank you," said Dan Anderson, quietly. But now in spite of himself hefelt his heart leap suddenly in hope. Suppose, after all, there shouldbe for him, stranded in this out-of-the-way corner of the world, a chancefor some sort of business success? Suppose that there should be, afterall, some work for him to do? Suppose that, after all, he shouldsucceed--that, after all, life might yet unfold before him as he haddreamed and planned! Unconsciously he stole a glance at the gray-cladfigure on the blanket roll.
Constance sat cool, sweet, delicate but vital, refreshing to look upon,her gray skirt folded across her knees, the patent-leather tips of herlittle shoes buried in the carpet spread by the forest conifers. Hecould just catch the curve of her cheek and chin, the droop of the longlashes which he knew so well. Ah, if he could only go to her and tellher the absolute truth--if only it could be right for him, all his life,to tell her the truth, to tell her of his reverence, his loyalty, hislove, through all these years! If, indeed, this opportunity should cometo him, might not all of this one day be possible? He set his mind tohis work, even as the girl held her heart to its waiting.
There came the sound of a distant whistle approaching up the trail, andere long Tom Osby appeared, stumbling along in his pigeon-toed way, hisrifle in the crook of his arm. Tom saluted the strangers briefly, andleaned his rifle against the wagon wheel. Dan Anderson made known thenames of the visitors, and Tom immediately put in action his own notionsof hospitality. Stepping to the wagon side he fished out a kerosene can,stoppered with a potato stuck on the spout. He removed the potato,picked up a tin cup, and proceeded calmly to pour out a generous portion.
"I always carry my liquor this way, gentlemen," said he, "because it'sconvenient to pour in the dark, and ain't so apt to get spilled. Thishere liquor sometimes makes folks forget their geogerphy. 'Missin' meone place, search another,' as Walt Whitman says. If a fellow gets adrink of this, he may take to the tall trees, or he may run straight onout of the country. You never can tell. Drink hearty."
Ellsworth and Barkley, for the sake of complacency, complied with suchshow of pleasure as they could muster.
"Now," said Tom, "I'll cook you a real breakfast. My _compadre_, here,can't drink and he can't cook."
"Three breakfasts before ten o'clock?" protested Constance.
But Tom was inexorable. "Eat when you get a chanct," he insisted."That's a good rule."
Barkley drew Ellsworth to one side. "I can't figure these people out,"he complained.
Ellsworth chuckled. "I told you you'd need help, Barkley," he said."They've got ways of their own. You can't come in here and take thatwhole town without reckoning with the people that live there. Nowsuppose we get Anderson to himself and talk things over with him alittle? We may not have another chance so good."
Ellsworth beckoned to Dan Anderson, and he readily joined them. Thethree walked a little way apart; which left Constance to the tender mercyof Tom Osby.
"That's all right, ma'am," said he, when she objected to his cleaning theknives by sticking them into the sand. "I don't reckon you do that wayback home, but it's the only way you can get a knife plumb clean."
"So this is the way men live out here?" mused Constance, half to herself.
"Mostly. You ought to see him"--he nodded toward Dan Anderson--"cookflap-jacks. The woman who marries him will shore have a happy home.We're goin' to send him to Congress some day, maybe."
Constance missed the irrelevance of this. "I wonder," said she, gently,"how he happened to come out here--how any one happened to come out here?"
"In his case," replied Tom, "it was probably because he wanted to get asfar away from Washington as he could--his mileage will amount to more.This is one of the best places in America, ma'am, for a man to go toCongress from." Constance smiled, though the answer did not satisfy her.
"There are folks, ma'am," Tom Osby continued, "that says that everyfeller come out here because of a girl somewheres. They allow that awoman sent most of us out here. For me, it was my fifth wife, or myfourth, I don't remember which. She never did treat me right, and hereyes didn't track. Yes, I'll bet, ma'am, without knowing anything aboutit, there was a girl back somewhere in Dan Anderson's early ree-cords,though whether it was his third or fourth wife, I don't know. We don'task no questions about such things out here."
He went on rubbing sand around in the bottom of the frying-pan, but nonethe less caught, with side-long glance, the flush upon the brown cheekvisible beneath its veil.
"I'm mighty glad to see you this mornin', ma'am," he went on; "I am, fora fact. It more'n pays me--it more'n pays him--" and he nodded againtoward Dan Anderson, "for our trip down here. We wasn't expectin' tomeet you."
"How did you happen to come?" asked Constance, feeling as she did so thatshe was guilty of treachery.
Tom Osby again looked her straight in the face. "Just because we wasnaturally so blamed lonesome," said he. "That is to say, I was. Iallowed I wanted to hear a woman sing. It wasn't him, it was me. Hecome along to take care of me, like, because he's used to that sort ofthing, and I ain't. He's my chaperoon. He didn't know, you know--didn'teither of us know--but what I might be took advantage of, and stole bysome gipsy queen."
"But--but the phonograph--"
Tom looked around. "Where is it?" he asked.
"Mr. Anderson kicked it down the hill."
"Did he? Good for him! I was goin' to do it my own self. You see,ma'am, I come down here to hear a song about Annie Laurie. I done so.Ma'am, I heard about a 'face that was the fairest.' Him? Was hesurprised to see you-all this morning? Was, eh? Well, he didn't seem soalmighty surprised, to my way of thinkin', last night when I told him youwas comin' up here from El Paso. I don't know how he knowed it, and Iain't sayin' a word."
A strange lightening came to Constance Ellsworth's heart. The droop atthe corners of her mouth faded away. She slid down off the blanket rolland edged along across the ground until she sat at his side. She reachedout her hand for the skillet.
"That spider isn't clean in the least," said she.
"Oh, well," apologized Tom Osby, leaning back against the wagon wheel andbeginning to fill a pipe. "I suppose there might be just a leetle sandleft in it, but that don't hurt. Do you want a dish towel? Here's onethat I've used for two years, freightin' from Vegas to Heart's Desire.Me and it's old friends."
"Let your dishes dry in the sun if you can't do better than that,"reproved Constance. "Ah, you men!"
"You're right hard to get along with, ma'am. Us gettin' you twobreakfasts, too!"
They looked into each other's faces and Constance laughed. "The air isdelightful--isn't it a beautiful world?" she exclaimed joyously.
"It shore is, ma'am," rejoined Tom Osby, "if you think so. It's all inthe way you look at things."
"I came out here for my health, you know," said she, carefullyexplanatory.
"Yes, I know. You ain't any healthier than a three-year-old deer on goodpasture. Ma'am, I'm sorry for you, but I wouldn't really have picked youout for a lunger. You know, I don't believe Dan Andersen's health isvery good, either. He's needin' a little Sky Top air, too,"
She froze at this. "I don't care to intrude into Mr. Andersen'saffairs," she replied, "nor to have him intrude into my own."
"Who done the intrudin'?" asked Tom Osby, calmly. "Here's me and himhave flew down here as a bird to our mountings. We was wantin' to hearabout a 'face that was the fairest.' We was a-settin' here, calm andpeaceful, eating _frijoles_, who intruded? Was it us? Or, what made usintrude?" He looked at her keenly, his eyes narrowed in the sunlight.
Constance abandoned the skillet and returned to the blanket roll.
"Now," went on Tom Osby, "things happens fast out here. If I come andset in your parlor in New York,
it takes me eight years to learn the nameof your pet dog. Lady comes out and sets in my parlor for eight minutes,and I ain't such a fool but what I can learn a heap of things in thattime. That don't mean necessary that I'm goin' to tell any _other_fellow what I may think. It _does_ mean that I'm goin' to see fairplay."
The girl could make no protest at this enigmatic speech, and the evenvoice went on.
"How I know things is easy," he continued. "If you think he"--once morenodding his head toward the group beyond--"come down here to hear a op'rysinger sing, I want to tell you he didn't. That was me. He come to giveme fair play in regards to a 'face that was the fairest.' I'm here to seethat he gets fair play in them same circumstances--"
"I just came down with my father," Constance interrupted hotly, suddenlythrown upon the defensive, she knew not why. "He's been ill a greatdeal. I've been alarmed about him. I _always_ go with him."
"Of course. I noticed that. Your dad's goin' to run the railroad intoHeart's Desire, and we'll all live happy ever after. You come along justto see that your dad didn't get sun stroke, or Saint Vitus dance, orcerebrus meningittus, or something else. I understood all thatperfectly, ma'am. And I understand too, perfectly, ma'am," he continued,tapping his pipe on a wagon wheel, "that back yonder in the States,somewhere, Dan Anderson knowed a 'face that was the fairest'; I reckon heallowed it was 'the fairest that e'er the sun shone on.' Now, I'm old andugly, and I don't even know whether I'm a widower any or not; so I know,ma'am, you won't take no offence if I tell you it's a straight case ofreasonin'; for _yore_ own face, ma'am,--and I ain't sayin' this with anysort of disrespect to any of my wives,--is about the fairest that DanAnderson ever did or could see--or me either. I don't reckon, ma'am,that he's lookin' for one that's any fairer."
Constance Ellsworth turned squarely and gazed hard into the eyes of theman before her. She drew a breath in sharply between her lips, but itwas a sigh of content. She felt herself safe in this man's hands. Againshe broke into laughter and flung herself upon the convenient frying-pan,which she proceeded to scrub with sudden vigor. Tom Osby's eyes twinkled.
"Whenever you think that skillet's clean enough, us two will set up andcook ourselves some breakfast right comfterble. As for them fellers overthere, they don't deserve none."
So presently they two did cook and eat yet again. A strange sense ofpeace and content came to Constance, albeit mingled with remorse. Shehad suspected Dan Anderson of worshipping at the shrine of an operaticstar, whereas he had made the long journey from Heart's Desire to seeherself! She knew it now.
"I'm goin' to take you up to the hotel, ma'am," said Tom Osby, afterConstance had finished her third breakfast, "and then, after that, I'mgoin' to take Dan Anderson back home to Heart's Desire. We'll see you upthere after a while.
"One thing I want to tell you, ma'am, is this. We've got along without arailroad, all right, and we ain't tearin' our clothes to have one now.If that railroad does get into our town, it's more'n half likely thatit'll be because the boys has took a notion to you. I never did see youbefore this mornin'; but the folks has told me about you--Curly's wife,you know, and the rest. We'd like to have you live there, if only wethought the town was good enough for you. It's been mostly for men, sofar."
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