Keith of the Border: A Tale of the Plains

by Randall Parrish

  The opportunity thus so unexpectedly afforded was not one to be wasted,and Keith accepted it with swift determination. The expression inthe woman's face was scarcely one of welcome, yet his purpose wassufficiently serious to cause him to ignore this with easy confidence inhimself.

  "I am, indeed, most fortunate to discover you alone, Miss Maclaire," hesaid, avoiding her eyes by a swift glance over the table, "and evidentlyat a time when you are only beginning your meal. May I join you?"

  She hesitated for an instant, debating with herself, and as quicklydeciding on disagreeable tactics.

  "I presume this is a public table, and I consequently have little choicein the matter, if you insist," she replied, her voice more civil thanher words. "Still, Mr. Keith, I am not accustomed to associating withcriminals."

  He smiled, holding his temper in check, more than ever determined towin.

  "Then, possibly, you may rather welcome a new diversion. I can assureyou our criminals out here are the most interesting portion of ourpopulation. I wish I might have your permission."

  Standing there before her, bare-headed, his slightly tanned face strongand manly, his gray eyes filled with humor, Miss Maclaire recognizedagain that he was not of the common herd, and the innate coquetry of hernature obtained mastery. What harm could it do for her to chat with himfor half an hour? It was better than eating a lonely meal, and, besides,she might learn something of value to report to Hawley. Her own eyesbrightened, the slight frown disappearing.

  "You are certainly an illustration of your theory," she said pleasantly."I shall have to say yes, but, really, I did not suppose you would enjoybeing ranked among that class."

  He drew out a chair, and sat down facing her, leaning slightly forwardupon the intervening table.

  "Nor would I, only I recognize you do not comprehend. The source of yourinformation is a bit polluted, Miss Maclaire. There are those whose goodopinion I do not seek, and you should not form your decisions on theunsupported testimony of a personal enemy."

  "Oh, indeed," rather resenting the words, and already regretful of hercompliance. "Surely I have as much reason to trust my informant as Ihave you. He, at least, has proven himself a friend."

  "I wish I could feel as fully assured of that as you do," he returnedhonestly. "I would then have every temptation to meddle further takenaway from me. Do you realize that my interest is very largely upon youraccount?"

  "Oh, no," laughing, "I couldn't believe that. I--I have heard itwhispered it might be because of the other girl."

  "The other girl!" in complete surprise at this swift return.

  "Yes, sir," conscious of having attained the upper hand. "Miss HopeWaite."

  "Some more of Mr. Hawley's fancies," he retorted, perplexed that so muchshould be suspected. "Have you seen her?"

  "Why, of course. I am a woman, Mr. Keith, with all the natural curiosityof my sex. In this case I had special reason to be interested. One doesnot meet her counterpart every day."

  "The resemblance between you is certainly most striking."

  "Sufficiently so," she said slowly, her eyes on his face, "to abundantlyconfirm in my mind the truth of all that has been told me."

  The waiter approached with the orders, and the two remained in silenceuntil he had deposited his load upon the table, and departed. She waswatching the face opposite through lowered lashes that veiled her eyes,but Keith was first to break the stillness.

  "I wish I might be told what that was."

  "To what do you refer?" apparently forgetful as to where theirconversation had been broken.

  "To Hawley's proposition."

  "No doubt," her lips smiling, "but you have come to the wrong market,Mr. Jack Keith."

  "Yet," he insisted earnestly, "if this is all straight, with no fraudconcealed anywhere, if you have the proofs in your hands, why are youafraid to talk openly? The very manner in which Hawley works shouldconvince you he is himself afraid to face the truth."

  "No, you are wrong. There are perfectly satisfactory reasons why weshould for the present keep our plans secret. There are details yet tobe decided upon, and Mr. Hawley's present objection to publicity is onlyordinary prudence."

  She leaned toward him, her fingers playing nervously with a knife.

  "Mr. Keith, I cannot help but like you, and I also feel most kindlydisposed toward Mr. Hawley. I wish in this I was no longer compelledto consider you an enemy to us both. There is no reason why I should,except for your blind prejudice against this other man who is my friend.I know you have some cause, for he has told me the entire story, yet Iam sure he did no more than his actual duty. He let me realize how verysorry he was that the marshal at Carson City had called upon him forassistance."

  "Who? Hawley?" Keith questioned, hardly trusting his own ears.

  "Yes; indeed he is a very different man from what you have been ledto believe. I know he is a gambler, and all that, but really it is notaltogether his fault. He told me about his life, and it was very sad.He was driven from home when only a boy, and naturally drifted into evilcompany. His one ambition is, to break away, and redeem himself. I amso anxious to help him, and wish you could realize his purpose, as I do,and become his friend. Won't you, for my sake? Why, even in this affairhe has not the slightest mercenary purpose--he has only thought of whatwas rightfully mine."

  Keith listened, feeling to the full the woman's earnestness, theimpossibility of changing her fixed conviction. Hawley had planted hisseed deep and well in fruitful soil.

  "You make a strong and charming advocate, Miss Maclaire," he returned,feeling the necessity of saying something. "I should like to have youequally earnest on my side. Yet it will be hard to convince me that'Black Bart' is the paragon of virtue you describe. I wish I mightbelieve for your sake. Did he also explain how he came into possessionof these papers?"

  "Oh, yes, indeed; there is no secret about that. They were entrusted tohim by an old man whom he discovered sick in Independence, and who diedin his rooms three years ago. Mr. Hawley has been searching ever sincefor the old man's grand-daughter. It is remarkable how he was finallyconvinced that I was the one."

  "A photograph, was it not?"

  A gleam of sudden suspicion appeared in the brown eyes, a slight changein facial expression.

  "That was a clue, yes, but far from being all. But why should I tell youthis?--you believe nothing I say."

  "I believe that you believe; that you are fully convinced of the justiceof your claim. Perhaps it is just, but I am suspicious of anything whichBart Hawley has a hand in. Miss Christie, you really make me wish toretain your friendship, but I cannot do so if the cost includes faithin Hawley. Do you know that is not even his name--that he lives under analias?"

  "Is there anything strange in that out here?" she asked stoutly. "I toldyou how deeply he regretted his life; that alone would be sufficientcause for him to drop his family name. Did you ever learn his truename?"

  He was not sure--only as Neb had reported what Waite had called the man,yet ventured a direct reply.

  "Bartlett, I believe--he uses it now as a prefix."

  "Bartlett!--Bartlett!" her hands clasping, and unclasping nervously."Why, what a strange coincidence!"

  "How? What do you mean?"

  "Oh, nothing--nothing," biting her lips in vexation. "The name merelyrecalled something. But really I must go, Mr. Keith, or I shall be lateat the theatre. You have not attended since I came?"

  "No," arising from the table with her. "However, I have heard you singbefore, and hope I may again."

  "How tenderly you dwell on that word 'hope,'" she said banteringly, "italmost makes me envious."

  "Your resemblance almost makes me forget."

  "But not quite?"

  "No, not quite," he confessed, smiling back into her quizzing eyes.

  They went out into the hall together, only to meet with Doctor Fairbainat the door. The latter stared at the two with some embarrassment, fora moment forgetful of his purpose. His gaze settled on the face of thelad
y.

  "Always getting you two mixed," he blurted forth. "Never saw suchresemblance--positively uncanny--same hotel too means trouble--this MissWaite?"

  "No, Doctor; I am Miss Maclaire."

  "Ought to have known it--if I knew as much about faces as I do aboutanatomy never would make such mistake--very sorry--what fooled me wasseeing you with Keith--thought he was after the other one--gay dogthough--never satisfied--was hunting after you."

  "After me?" evidently amused.

  "Certainly--you--went to the room--then to the clerk--said you were inat supper--just occurred to me streets here bad at night--thoughtI'd ask you to let me escort you to theatre and back--a bit of lunchlater--" he glanced suspiciously at Keith--"probably got here too late."

  "Well really you have, Doctor," she replied sweetly, veiling her eyesto hide their laughter. "But I can assure you it is not Mr. Keith,"courtesying slightly to the latter, "for he has not honored me; wemerely met by chance at the table. I am sure I should enjoy your companyexceedingly, but to-night I must plead a previous engagement."

  "Ah--ah, some other night?"

  "With pleasure, yes."

  The doctor faded away into the office, not wholly satisfied becauseKeith still lingered. Miss Christie extended her hand.

  "Isn't he a funny man? But I do like him--someway I like so many peoplewhom perhaps I ought not, including you, Mr. Jack Keith. Please thinkover what I told you about Mr. Hawley, won't you?"

  "Certainly; you have given me food for thought. I presume he is to beyour escort?"

  She bowed, evidently resenting the question.

  "Yes, and it may interest you to know that he has something of theutmost importance to tell me to-night--he has actually seen my guardian.Don't you wish you could be there?"

  She gave him a tantalizing smile, withdrawing her hand, and running upthe stairs before he could answer. Over the railing of the landing sheglanced down, and then disappeared.

  Chapter XXVII. Miss Hope Suggests