The Westerners

by Stewart Edward White

  XXIX

  BISMARCK ANNE ARRIVES

  As has been hinted, the outward and visible signs of prosperity had tosome extent increased the feminine population of Copper Creek. MollyLafond had long since lost the distinction of being the only woman incamp. Some of the newcomers were blessed with wives, one or two werefavored with daughters. All told, there were perhaps fifteen or twentyof the gentler sex scattered among the new and old log cabins of thevalley.

  But from them Molly had little to fear in the way of rivalry. Theolder women were either buxom and decisive, representing the sturdierpioneer race, or dyspeptic and drawling, as typical of the effects of ahigh altitude on nervous and underfed organizations. The young girlswere angular, awkward and shy, especially so when in the presence ofMiss Molly's breezy self-possession. They would all make good"filling" at the new dance-house ball, but they would never obtrudeinto the foreground.

  Then Bismarck Anne came to camp. She conceived the idea quitesuddenly, late one afternoon, and without so much as a word to anybodyshe strapped her most becoming ball-gown inside a poncho and rodeacross from Spanish Gulch on her little pinto pony.

  Bismarck Anne was at that time in the heyday of her youth andprosperity. She was of the dark-skinned, black-haired, black-eyedtype, so "common" when it falls just short of attractiveness, but soabundantly vital when, as in the present case, it does not fall short.Bismarck Anne was instinct, charged with life. Into everything she didshe threw a verve and abandon that carried the adventure well throughwith something to spare. And she was afraid of nothing. She deniedthe possibility of nothing.

  About three o'clock of the afternoon she galloped in. A number of menrecognized her and ran to help her down from her horse. Everybody knewher by sight or reputation, but few had ever dared attempt heracquaintance, for ordinarily Bismarck Anne chose her coterie from thepowerful and wealthy. Now, however, there seemed to be little causefor anxiety on that point. Bismarck Anne had come over for a good timeand she was going to have it. If the men who surrounded her on herarrival felt any momentary restraint or trepidation, they were almostimmediately set at ease by the warmth of her manner.

  It was Old Mizzou, I believe, who steadied her stirrup, and Dave Kellywho helped her from her horse and held her a moment longer than wasnecessary, and, to his vast astonishment, instead of being slapped washeartily kissed for his temerity. There was a breathless element ofunexpectedness in this which appealed to the miners' sense of humor,and they all laughed consumedly and felt good comrades at once. OldMizzou mentally added another exception to his sweeping rule about"grass widders and school ma'ams." There sprang up a rapid fire ofgood-humored joking back and forth in which no man was favored, whereeach had a chance to enter the lists, and in the course of which eachconceived an inner conviction that all he needed to "win out" was achance unhindered by the crowd. Bismarck Anne stood in the centre ofthe group, flashing her black eyes back and forth from one to the otherand showing her white teeth in a series of dazzling smiles.

  Just at this moment Cheyenne Harry and Molly Lafond, returning from oneof their numerous expeditions, caught sight of the animated group nearthe hotel, and naturally turned aside to investigate its cause.

  Bismarck Anne faced toward them.

  "Why, Harry!" she cried, holding out both hands, "you here? I didn'tknow you-all hung out in this camp. You look just the same as ever.'Spose you're goin' to take in th' dance to-night. Yes, that's what Icame over for; that an' nothing else. We'll have to stir this camp upa bit and make her seem like old times. I'm afraid you boys have beengetting a little slow," she flashed good-humoredly at the others."Harry, you ought to have seen them when I kissed that boy over there,just for a 'kid,' you know. I don't believe you've got a girl in thiscamp who knows beans, and it's about time you did. I'm _mighty_ gladto see you. But you got to watch out, though! This is a prettygood-looking lot of boys, and you'll have to hustle to hold your job."She said this still holding both his hands in hers, and alternatelysmiling now at him, now at the men about her. She had taken rapidstock of Molly--whom she now ignored for the moment--and had as rapidlycome to the conclusion that if a rival were to appear at all, it wouldbe Harry's companion. She hoped her speech would at the same timeattach Harry to herself, and render assiduous his devotions by a fearof rivalry.

  "You bet we will!" cried Harry. His manner was enthusiastic, not somuch with joy over seeing Bismarck Anne, as with instinctive relieffrom the tension of his rather sentimental interview with Molly. Heremembered the latter and performed some sort of an introduction.

  The two women looked each other in the eye.

  "How do you do?" asked Molly coolly, without moving an inch.

  "Very well, my dear," replied Bismarck Anne smiling, "and very glad toget here."

  The endearing epithet relegated Molly at once to the category of littlegirls.

  The conversation continued for some moments longer, the men standing assilent spectators. Molly continued very reserved. The newcomer didnot appear to notice it, but chattered on unconcernedly in alight-hearted fashion, appealing to the other just often enough toconvey the idea that there was nothing noticeably repellent in hermanner. In fact she did it so well that the group gained theimpression that Molly carried her share of the small talk, which wasnot true. But in spite of the apparent good-feeling Cheyenne Harryfelt uncomfortably that something was wrong. Searching about for thecause, he at last discovered it in Molly's attitude.

  So on the way to the cabin he was vexed, and showed it. And Molly feltso strongly the innate justice of her position and appreciated sokeenly the skill with which she had been made to appear sulky andunreasonable, that when she had finally shut her own door behind her,she threw herself on her bed and cried as though her heart would break.Then her blood told. She dried her eyes and in her inmost heart shedeclared war against this woman, war to the knife and to the uttermost.The momentary defeat dashed her at first, then it nerved her. Afterall nothing definite had occurred. This creature had planted severalstinging thrusts which had hit home because Molly, in the innocence ofher heart, was not expecting them. She was on her guard now. It wouldnot happen again. Cheyenne Harry had known the woman before,evidently, and surely it was natural that in the first surprise ofseeing her so unexpectedly, he should display a certain enthusiasm ofrecognition. But his relations with her--Molly Lafond--were toointimate, too long-continued, to be lightly broken.

  As the twilight fell she saw, through the oblong of her sliding window,that men were hurrying by to dine early, in order that they mightprepare for the festivities of the evening. Across the square shecould make out the dim shape of the new dance hall, a long lowstructure trimmed with evergreens and bunting. Frosty was even thenlighting the lamps in the Little Nugget. She sat there motionless,staring out into the night, fingering the soft white stuff of the gownlying across her lap, until a certain peace came to her and aconviction that all would be well.

  The night was warm and balmy with the odors of early spring. Molly hadslid back the halves of her narrow window, and over the boxes offlowers that fringed this little artificial horizon the mellow notes ofthe first whitethroat, that nightingale of the north, floated in on thetepid air. Beyond the nearer silhouette of the flowers another dimmersilhouette of the hills wavered uncertainly beneath a few uncertainstars. The girl watched these stars idly, dreaming in tune with theplaintive notes of the bird. Then silently another bulkier silhouetteinterposed itself, almost filling the window.

  "What is it?" she cried, starting.

  "It's I," came the voice of Jack Graham. The silhouette rested twoblack-outlined elbows against the sill.

  "My, how you frightened me!" she cried pettishly. "What in the worlddo you want? Why aren't you at dinner?"

  "Molly," said Graham solemnly, "I don't suppose you'll listen to me.We haven't gotten along very well lately, have we? But I want you toknow that I am asking this for your sake, and that I believe it."

&nbs
p; She was impressed by the sincere quality of his tone. "Why, Jack," shesaid softly, "I know you mean well, and I suppose I _am_ very frivolousand careless. What is it?"

  "I wish you would not go to the dance to-night."

  There fell a pause. She was evidently in a softened mood and shewished to conduct the interview considerately. "But, Jack," shehesitatingly asked at last. "Do you think there is going to betrouble?"

  "It will only give you pain. You are going to be forced against thingsyou have never had to combat before."

  "I don't understand you."

  "I am going to talk very plainly, Molly; I hope you won't get angry. Ican't help it if you do. It's because I love you so, girl; I love youso!"

  His voice was deep and rich with emotion, so poignant and compellingthat it forced her attention in spite of herself. This was adeclaration, she dimly felt, and yet its import as such was somehowlost in the more pregnant subject-matter to which it but added emphasis.

  "Go on," she said breathlessly.

  "You are well liked by everybody here," he continued, carefullyavoiding more pointed personalities, "and you have grown so used tobeing liked by everybody that it would hurt you cruelly if you werenot. Isn't that true?"

  "Yes," assented Molly gravely, after a moment's consideration.

  "You want to hold first place in their thoughts and in their goodwill.You want to be first with them and you want them to show to you and toeach other by their actions that they are your best friends and aregoing to stand by you. Do I read you right?"

  "Yes, of course I want all the boys to like me. I've known them solong, and I should feel dreadfully if they didn't. But what do youmean by it? I don't understand."

  The silhouette moved uneasily. "Now don't get angry," he pleaded."Take to-night. To speak plainly, you want to be the woman whoreceives the most attention at that ball. Answer frankly."

  "Well," confessed the gill after another moment's hesitation, "franklythen, I do."

  "You will not."

  "Why?"

  "Because the woman who came this afternoon, Bismarck Anne, will takeyour place."

  Molly Lafond would have become angry if her experience of the afternoonhad not already made her uneasy on just this point.

  "Do you consider her more attractive than me?" she asked a littleresentfully.

  "A thousand times No!" assured the silhouette.

  "Has she known the boys as long as I? Is she as good friends withthem? Can she talk better? Is she brighter?"

  "No."

  "Then I don't believe I quite see."

  "It's just this. The men all like you and admire you, and would doanything for you, but at the same time they look up to you a little.You are better than they are, so, more or less, they are alittle--well--a little _restricted_ with you. This woman is theirsort. She isn't a bit better than they are. When they are out to havea good time, like at the dance to-night, they want somebody they canhave their sort of fun with. _You are too good for them_."

  "That is very theoretical."

  "It is very true."

  "And supposing, just supposing, it were. You want me to lie down andquit without making a fight. Do you call that being game? What wouldyou think of a man who would run away because the other man was alittle stronger? Don't you think I'd fight?"

  "That's just it. You'd fight too well."

  "I don't----"

  "She has ways of drawing men to her which you know nothing about. Theyare her weapons. I know you'd fight. You'd fight to the last becauseit is in you to, and I'm afraid, very much afraid, that when you foundyour weapons were not enough you'd use hers."

  There fell between them a long silence, while Molly slowly ponderedthese last words and gradually apprehended their meaning. In thedarkness she could feel the blood tingeing her face, forehead, andneck. At first she was inclined to be angry and to show it, but theman's evident sincerity, coupled with the fervor of his incidentaldeclaration of love, softened her.

  "I don't believe I ever had anybody tell me such things before," shecould not restrain herself from saying, "and I don't know whether Iought to thank you for your lack of trust in me. However, you'll bethere, and I can rely on your protection against these awful dangers."

  "I will not be there," contradicted Graham bluntly.

  "Well, then, there's Harry." She said the name out of bravado to showthat there was no reason why she should not say it.

  "Yes," cried Graham, with a burst of anger that astonished her. "It ishe I mean."

  It was the red flag to them both, the idea of this man. "I think you'dbetter go now," she replied coldly.

  Graham turned away with a little curse.

  She sat down again and tried desperately to regain her confidence of afew moments before, but it would not come. She was angry and insulted,and she was vexed at herself that she could not throw off theuneasiness which lay behind these emotions; but she could not. It grewon her as her nervousness increased. She sat staring straight beforeher into the dark, clasping and unclasping her hands, and striving withall the earnestness of which she was capable to seize and formulate thevague fear that seemed unreasonably to weigh on her spirits. Analyzeit as she would, she could find no adequate reason for it. It wastherefore the more terrible. The dinner hour passed quite unnoticed.The nervousness increased until she could have shrieked aloud. Andthen with a sudden start she recognized it--this old formless causelesssense of an indefinite guilt, as for something left undone; the voice,although this she did not know, of her inherited New England conscience.

  At the discovery she rebelled. She had always rebelled, and heretoforeshe had succeeded in putting it down, in stifling it underneath meresurface moods. But now the surface moods proved inadequate. Theuneasy guiltiness increased until it almost overflowed in tears. Mollywas afraid, just as a child is afraid of the dark.

  She lit the lamps and looked at herself in the mirror. This must notgo on. To-night, the one night when she needed all her powers, it wasfoolish to allow a whim to weaken them. She shook her head at herselfand smiled. The smile was not a success. She turned away wearily andthrust her hands through her hair. Why had Graham taken it into hishead to bother her this one evening of all others? It was his fault.She stamped her foot angrily. All his fault. In spite of his denial,she believed he would be there and would set everything. The thoughtstung her pride and the desire for tears left her. She would show himjust how much his advice and his fears were worth. On the impulse shespread her white dress out on the bed, and began hastily to smooth outthe wrinkles in its pleats. After a moment she turned decisively tothe mirror, and began to take down her hair.