by B. M. Bower
MISS MARTIN'S MISSION
When Andy Green, fresh-combed and shining with soap and towel polish,walked into the dining-room of the Dry Lake Hotel, he felt not theslightest premonition of what was about to befall. His chief sensationwas the hunger which comes of early rising and of many hours spent inthe open, and beyond that he was hoping that the Chinaman cook hadmade some meat-pie, like he had the week before. His eyes, searchingunobtrusively the long table bearing the unmistakable signs of manyother hungry men gone before--for Andy was late--failed to warn him.He pulled out his chair and sat down, still looking for meat-pie.
"Good after_noon!_" cried an eager, feminine voice just across thetable.
Andy started guiltily. He had been dimly aware that some one wassitting there, but, being occupied with other things, had not given athought to the sitter, or a glance. Now he did both while he said goodafternoon with perfunctory politeness.
"Such a _beau_tiful day, isn't it? _so_ invigorating, like rare, oldwine!"
Andy assented somewhat dubiously; it had never just struck him thatway; he thought fleetingly that perhaps it was because he had nevercome across any rare, old wine. He ventured another glance. She wasnot young, and she wore glasses, behind which twinkled very brighteyes of a shade of brown. She had unpleasantly regular hair waves onher temples, and underneath the waves showed streaks of gray. Also,she wore a black silk waist, and somebody's picture made into a broochat her throat. Further, Andy dared not observe. It was enough for oneglance. He looked again for the much-desired meat-pie.
The strange lady ingratiatingly passed him the bread. "You're acowboy, aren't you?" was the disconcerting question that accompaniedthe bread.
"Well, I--er--I punch cows," he admitted guardedly, his gaze elsewherethan on her face.
"I _knew_ you were a cowboy, the moment you entered the door! I couldtell by the tan and the straight, elastic walk, and the silkhandkerchief knotted around your throat in that picturesque fashion.(Oh, I'm older than you, and dare speak as I think!) I've read a greatdeal about cowboys, and I do admire you all as a type of free,great-hearted, noble manhood!"
Andy looked exactly as if someone had caught him at somethingexceedingly foolish. He tried to sugar his coffee calmly, and so sentit sloshing all over the saucer.
"Do you live near here?" she asked next, beaming upon him in theorthodox, motherly fashion.
"Yes, ma'am, not very near," he was betrayed into saying--and shemight make what she could of it. He had not said "ma'am" before sincehe had gone to school.
"Oh, I've heard how you Western folks measure distances," she teased."About how many miles?"
"About twenty."
"I suppose that is not far, to you knights of the plains. At home itwould be called a _dreadfully_ long journey. Why, I have known numbersof old men and women who have never been so far from their own doorsin their lives! What would you think, I wonder, of their little fortyacre farms?"
Andy had been brought to his sixteenth tumultuous birthday on ahalf-acre in the edge of a good-sized town, but he did not say so. Heshook his head vaguely and said he didn't know. Andy Green, however,was not famous for clinging ever to the truth.
"You out here in this great, wide, free land, with the free winds everblowing and the clouds--"
"Will you pass the butter, please?" Andy hated to interrupt, but hewas hungry.
The strange lady passed the butter and sent with it a smile. "I haveread and heard so much about this wild, free life, and my heart hasgone out to the noble fellows living their lonely life with theircattle and their faithful dogs, lying beside their camp-fires at nightwhile the stars stood guard--"
Andy forgot his personal embarrassment and began to perk up his ears.This was growing interesting.
"--And I have felt how lonely they must be, with their rude fare andfew pleasures, and what a field there must be among them for a greatand noble work; to uplift them and bring into their lonely lives abroader, deeper meaning; to help them to help themselves to be better,nobler men and women--"
"We don't have any lady cowpunchers out here," interposed Andy mildly.
The strange lady had merely gone astray a bit, being accustomed toaddressing Mothers' Meetings and the like. She recovered herselfeasily. "Nobler men, the bulwarks of our nation." She stopped and eyedAndy archly. Andy, having observed that her neck was scrawny, withcertain cords down the sides that moved unpleasantly when she talked,tried not to look.
"I wonder if you can guess what brings me out here, away from home andfriends! Can you guess?"
Andy thought of several things, but he could not feel that it would bepolite to mention them. Agent for complexion stuff, for instance, andnext to that, wanting a husband. He shook his head again and looked athis potato.
"You _can't guess_?" The tone was the one commonly employed for theencouragement, and consequent demoralization of, a primary class. Andyrealized that he was being talked down to, and his combativenessawoke. "Well, away back in my home town, a woman's club has beenthinking of all you lonely fellows, and have felt their hearts swellwith a desire to help you--so far from home and mother's influence,with only the coarse pleasures of the West, and amid all thetemptations that lie in wait--" She caught herself back fromspeech-making--"and they have sent _me_--away out here--to be your_friend_; to help you to help yourselves become better, truer menand--" She did not say women, though, poor soul, she came near it."So, I am going to be your friend. I want to get in touch with youall, first; to win your confidence and teach you to look upon me inthe light of a mother. Then, when I have won your confidence, I wantto organize a Cowboys' Mutual Improvement and Social Society, to helpyou in the way of self-improvement and to resist the snares laid forhomeless boys like you. Don't you think I'm very--_brave_?" She wassmiling at him again, leaning back in her chair and regarding himplayfully over her glasses.
"You sure are," Andy assented, deliberately refraining from saying"yes, ma'am," as had been his impulse.
"To come away out here--_all alone_--among all you wild cowboys withyour guns buckled on and your wicked little mustangs--Are you sure youwon't shoot me?"
Andy eyed her pityingly. If she meant it, he thought, she certainlywas wabbly in her mind. If she thought that was the only kind of talkhe could savvy, then she was a blamed idiot; either way, he feltantagonistic. "The law shall be respected in your case," he told her,very gravely.
She smiled almost as if she could see the joke; after which she becametwitteringly, eagerly in earnest. "Since you live near here, you mustknow the Whitmores. Miss Whitmore came out here, two or three yearsago, and married her brother's coachman, I believe--though I've heardconflicting stories about it; some have said he was an artist, andothers that he was a jockey, or horse-trainer. I heard too that he wasa cowboy; but Miss Whitmore certainly wrote about this young mandriving her brother's carriage. However, she is married and I have aletter of introduction to her. The president of our club used to be aschoolmate of her mother. I shall stop with them--I have heard so muchabout the Western hospitality--and shall get into touch with mycowboys from the vantage point of proximity. Did you say you knowthem?"
"I work for them," Andy told her truthfully in his deep amazement, andimmediately repented and wished that he had not been so virtuous. WithAndy, to wish was to do--given the opportunity.
"Then I can go with you out to their farm--ranchero! How nice! And onthe way you can tell me all about yourself and your life andhopes--because I do want to get in touch with you all, you know--andI'll tell you all my plans for you; I have some _beau_tiful plans! Andwe'll be very good friends by the time we reach our destination, I'msure. I want you to feel from the start that I am a true friend, andthat I have your welfare very much at heart. Without the confidence ofmy cowboys, I can do nothing. Are there any more at home like you?"
Andy looked at her suspiciously, but it was so evident she never meantto quote comic opera, that he merely wondered anew. He struggledfeebly against temptation, and fell from grace quite willin
gly. Itisn't polite to "throw a load" at a lady, but then Andy felt thatneither was it polite for a lady to come out with the avowed intentionof improving him and his fellows; it looked to him like butting inwhere she was not wanted, or needed.
"Yes, ma'am, there's quite a bunch, and they're pretty bad. I don'tbelieve you can do much for 'em." He spoke regretfully.
"Do they--_drink_?" she asked, leaning forward and speaking in thehushed voice with which some women approach a tabooed subject.
"Yes ma'am, they do. They're hard drinkers. And they"--he eyed herspeculatively, trying to guess the worst sins in her category--"theyplay cards--gamble--and swear, and smoke cigarettes and--"
"All the more need of someone to help them overcome," she decidedsolemnly. "What you need is a coffee-house and reading room here, sothat the young men will have some place to go other than the saloons.I shall see to that right away. And with the Mutual Improvement andSocial Society organized and working smoothly, and a library ofstandard works for recreation, together with earnest personal effortsto promote temperance and clean-living, I feel that a _wonderful_ workcan be done. I saw you drive into town, so I know you can take me outwith you; I hope you are going to start soon. I feel very impatient toreach the field and put my sickle to the harvest."
Andy mentally threw up his hands before this unshakable person. He hadmeant to tell her that he had come on horseback, but she hadforestalled him. He had meant to discourage her--head her off, hecalled it to himself. But there seemed no way of doing it. He pushedback his chair and rose, though he had not tasted his pie, and it waslemon pie at that. He had some faint notion of hurrying out of townand home before she could have time to get ready; but she followed himto the door and chirped over his shoulder that it wouldn't take hertwo minutes to put on her wraps. Andy groaned.
He tried--or started to try--holding out at Rusty Brown's till shegave up in despair; but it occurred to him that Chip had asked him tohurry back. Andy groaned again, and got the team.
She did not wait for him to drive around to the hotel for her;possibly she suspected his intentions. At any rate, she came nippingdown the street toward the stable just as he was hooking the lasttrace, and she was all ready and had a load of bags and bundles.
"I'm not going to begin by making trouble for you," she twittered. "Ithought I could just as well come down here to the wagon as have youdrive back to the hotel. And my trunk did not come on the train withme, so I'm all ready."
Andy, having nothing in mind that he dared say to a lady, helped herinto the wagon.
At sundown or thereabouts--for the days were short and he had a loadof various things besides care--Andy let himself wearily into thebunk-house where was assembled the Happy Family. He merely gruntedwhen they spoke to him, and threw himself heavily down upon his bunk.
"For Heaven's sake, somebody roll me a cigarette! I'm too wore out todo a thing, and I haven't had a smoke since dinner," he groaned, aftera minute.
"Sick?" asked Pink solicitously.
"Sick as a dog! water, water!" moaned Andy. All at once he rolled overupon his face and shook with laughter more than a little hysterical,and to the questioning of the Happy Family gave no answer but howls.The Happy Family began to look at one another uneasily.
"Aw, let up!" Happy Jack bellowed. "You give a man the creeps just tolisten at yuh."
"I'm going to empty the water-bucket over yuh in a minute," Pinkthreatened, "Go get it, Cal; it's half full."
Andy knew well the metal of which the Happy Family was made, and thenight was cool for a ducking. He rolled back so that they could seehis face, and struggled for calm. In a minute he sat up and merelygurgled.
"Well, say, I had to do something or die," he explained, gasping."I've gone through a heap, the last few hours, and I was right where Icouldn't do a thing. By gracious, I struck the ranch about as nearbug-house as a man can get and recover. Where's a cigarette?"
"What you've gone through--and I don't give a cuss what it is--ain't amarker for what's going to happen if yuh don't loosen up on thehistory," said Jack Bates firmly.
Andy smoked hungrily while he surveyed the lot. "How calm and innocentyuh all look," he observed musingly, "with your hats on and sayingwords that's rude, and smoking the vile weed regardless, neverdreaming what's going to drop, pretty soon quick. Yuh make me think ofa hymn-song my step-mother used to sing a lot, about 'They dreamed notof danger, those sinners of old, whom--"
"Hand me the water bucket," directed Pink musically.
"Oh, well--take it from the shoulder, then; I was only trying to leadup to it gradual, but yuh _will_ have it raw. You poor, dear cowboys,that live your lonely lives watching over your cattle with your_faithful dogs_ and the stars for company, you're going to be_improved_. (You'll sure stand a lot of it, too!) A woman's reliefclub back East has felt the burden of your no-accountness and generalorneriness, and has sent one of its leading members out here to reformyuh. You're going to be hazed into a Cowboys' Mutual Improvement andSocial Society, and quit smoking cigarettes and cussing your hossesand laying over Rusty's bar when yuh ride into town; and for pleasureand recreation you're going to read Tennyson's poems, and when yuh getcaught out in a blizzard yuh'll be heeled with Whittier's _Snowbound_,pocket edition. Emerson and Browning and Shakespeare and Gatty" (Andymisquoted; he meant Goethe) "and all them stiffs is going to be setbefore yuh regular and in your mind constant, purging it of uncleanthoughts, and grammar is going to be learnt yuh as a side-line. Yuh--"
"Mama mine," broke in Weary. "I have thought sometimes, when Andybroke loose with that imagination uh his, that he'd gone the limit;but next time he always raises the limit out uh sight. He's like theGood Book says: he's prone to lie as the sparks fly-upward."
Andy gazed belligerently at the skeptical group. "I brought her outfrom town," he said doggedly, "and whilst I own up to having animagination, she's stranger than fiction. She'd make the fellow thatwrote "She" lay down with a headache. She's come out here to help uscowboys live nobler, better lives. She's going to learn yuh Browning,darn yuh! and Emerson and Gatty. She said so. She's going to fill yourhearts with love for dumb creatures, so when yuh get set afoot out onthe range, or anything like that, yuh won't put in your time cussingthe miles between you and camp; you'll have a pocket edition of 'MuchAdo About Nothing' to read, or the speech Mark Anthony made when hewas running for office. Or supposing yuh left 'em all in camp, yuh'llstudy nature. There's sermons in stones, she says. She's going to sendfor a pocket library that can easy be took on roundup--"
"Say, I guess that's about enough," interrupted Pink restlessly. "Weall admit you're the biggest liar that ever come West of theMississippi, without you laying it on any deeper."
Whereupon Andy rose in wrath and made a suggestive movement with hisfist. "If I was romancing," he declared indignantly, "I'd do asmoother job; when I do lie, I notice yuh all believe it--till yuhfind out different. And by gracious yuh might do as much when I'mtelling the truth! Go up to the White House and see, darn yuh! If yuhdon't find Miss Verbena Martin up there telling the Little Doctor howher heart goes out to her dear cowboys and how she's going to get intouch with 'em and help 'em lead nobler, better lives, you can kick meall round the yard. And I hope, by gracious, she _does_ improve yuh!Yuh sure do need it a lot."
The Happy Family discussed the tale freely and without regard for thefeelings of Andy; they even became heated and impolite, and they madethreats. They said that a liar like him ought to be lynched or gagged,and that he was a disgrace to the outfit. In the end, however, theydecided to go and see, just to prove to Andy that they knew he lied.And though it was settled that Weary and Pink should be theinvestigating committee, by the time they were halfway to the WhiteHouse they had the whole Happy Family trailing at their heels. A lightsnow had begun to fall since dark, and they hunched their shouldersagainst it as they went. Grouped uncomfortably just outside the circleof light cast through the unshaded window, they gazed silently in uponChip and the Little Doctor and J.G. Whitmore, and upon on
e other; astrange lady in a black silk shirtwaist and a gold watch suspendedfrom her neck by a chaste, black silken cord; a strange lady withsymmetrical waves in her hair and gray on her temples, and withglasses and an eager way of speaking.
She was talking very rapidly and animatedly, and the others werelistening and stealing glances now and then at one another. Once,while they watched, the Little Doctor looked at Chip and then turnedher face toward the window. She was biting her lips in the way theHappy Family had learned to recognize as a great desire to laugh. Itall looked suspicious and corroborative of Andy's story, and the HappyFamily shifted their feet uneasily in the loose snow.
They watched, and saw the strange lady clasp her hands together andlean forward, and where her voice had before come to them with nowords which they could catch distinctly, they heard her say somethingquite clearly in her enthusiasm: "Eight real cowboys _here_, almostwithin reach! I must see them before I sleep! I must get in touch withthem at once, and show them that I am a true friend. Come, Mrs.Bennett! Won't you take me where they are and let me meet my boys? forthey _are_ mine in spirit; my heart goes out to them--"
The Happy Family waited to hear no more, but went straightway backwhence they had come, and their going savored of flight.
"Mama mine! she's coming down to the bunkhouse!" said Weary under hisbreath, and glanced back over his shoulder at the White House bulkinglarge in the night. "Let's go on down to the stable and roost in thehay a while."
"She'll out-wind us, and be right there waiting when we come back,"objected Andy, with the wisdom gained from his brief acquaintance withthe lady. "If she's made up her mind to call on us, there's no wayunder Heaven to head her off."
They halted by the bunk-house door, undecided whether to go in or tostay out in the open.
"By golly, she don't improve _me_!" Slim asserted pettishly. "I hatebooks like strychnine, and, by golly, she can't make me read 'em,neither."
"If there's anything I do despise it's po'try," groaned Cal Emmett.
"Emerson and Browning and Shakespeare and _Gatty_," named Andygloomily.
Whereat Pink suddenly pushed open the door and went in as goes one whoknows exactly what he is about to do. They followed him distressfullyand silently. Pink went immediately to his bunk and began pulling offhis boots.
"I'm going to bed," he told them. "You fellows can stay up andentertain her if yuh want to--_I_ won't!"
They caught the idea and disrobed hastily, though the evening wasyoung. Irish blew out the lamp and dove under the blankets just asvoices came faintly from up the hill, so that when Chip rapped awarning with his knuckles on the door, there was no sound within savean artificial snore from the corner where lay Pink. Chip was not inthe habit of knocking before he entered, but he repeated the summonswith emphasis.
"Who's there-e?" drawled sleepily a voice--the voice of Weary.
"Oh, I do believe they've retired!" came, in a perturbed femininetone, to the listening ears of the Happy Family.
"Gone to bed?" cried Chip gravely.
"Hours ago," lied Andy fluently. "We're plumb wore out. What'shappened?"
"Oh, don't disturb the poor fellows! They're tired and need theirrest," came the perturbed tone again. After that the voices and thefootsteps went up the hill again, and the Happy Family breathed freer.Incidentally, Pink stopped snoring and made a cigarette.
Going to bed at seven-thirty or thereabouts was not the custom of theHappy Family, but they stayed under the covers and smoked anddiscussed the situation. They dared not have a light, and the nightwas longer than they had ever known a night to be, for it was latebefore they slept. It was well that Miss Verbena Martin could notoverhear their talk, which was unchivalrous and unfriendly in theextreme. The general opinion seemed to be that old maid improverswould better stay at home where they might possibly be welcome, andthat when the Happy Family wanted improving they would let her know.Cal Emmett said that he wouldn't mind, if they had only sent a young,pretty one. Happy Jack prophesied plenty of trouble, and boasted thatshe couldn't haul _him_ into no s'ciety. Slim declared again that bygolly, she wouldn't do no improving on _him_, and the others--Wearyand Irish and Pink and Jack Bates and Andy--discussed ways and meansand failed always to agree. When each one hoots derision at all plansbut his own, it is easy guessing what will be the result. In thisparticular instance the result was voices raised in argument--voicesthat reached Chip, grinning and listening on the porch of the WhiteHouse--and tardy slumber overtaking a disgruntled Happy Family on thebrink of violence.
It was not a particularly happy Family that woke to memory and a snowySunday; woke late, because of the disturbing evening. When they spoketo one another their voices were but growls, and when they trailedthrough the snow to their breakfast they went in moody silence.
They had just brightened a bit before Patsy's Sunday breakfast, whichincluded hot-cakes and maple syrup, when the door was pushed quietlyopen and the Little Doctor came in, followed closely by Miss Martin;an apologetic Little Doctor, who seemed, by her very manner ofentering, to implore them not to blame _her_ for the intrusion. MissMartin was not apologetic. She was disconcertingly eager and glad tomeet them, and pathetically anxious to win their favor.
Miss Martin talked, and the Happy Family ate hurriedly and withlowered eyelids. Miss Martin asked questions, and the Happy Familykicked one another's shins under the table by way of urging someone toreply; for this reason there was a quite perceptible pause betweenquestion and answer, and the answer was invariably "the soul ofwit"--according to that famous recipe. Miss Martin told them naivelyall about her hopes and her plans and herself, and about the distantwoman's club that took so great an interest in their welfare, and theHappy Family listened dejectedly and tried to be polite. Also, theydid not relish the hot-cakes as usual, and Patsy had half the batterleft when the meal was over, instead of being obliged to mix more, aswas usually the case.
When they had eaten, the Happy Family filed out decorously and wenthastily down to the stables. They did not say much, but they didglance over their shoulders uneasily once or twice.
"The old girl is sure hot on our trail," Pink remarked when they weresafely through the big gate. "She must uh got us mixed up with someWild West show, in her mind. Josephine!"
"Well, by golly, she don't improve _me_," Slim repeated for about thetenth time.
The horses were all fed and everything tidy for the day, and severalsaddles were being hauled down significantly from their pegs, whenIrish delivered himself of a speech, short but to the point. Irish hadbeen very quiet and had taken no part in the discussion that had waxedhot all that morning.
"Now, see here," he said in his decided way. "Maybe it didn't strikeyou as anything but funny--which it sure is. But yuh want to rememberthat the old girl has come a dickens of a long ways to do us somegood. She's been laying awake nights thinking about how we'll get tocalling her something nice: Angel of the Roundup, maybe--you can'ttell, she's that romantic. And right here is where I'm going to givethe old girl the worth of her money. It won't hurt _us_, letting hertalk wild and foolish at us once a week, maybe; and the poor oldthing'll just be tickled to death thinking what a lot uh good she'sdoing. She won't stay long, and--well, I go in. If she'll feel betterand more good to the world improving me, she's got my permission. Iguess I can stand it a while."
The Happy Family looked at him queerly, for if there was a black sheepin the flock, Irish was certainly the man; and to have Irish take thestand he did was, to say the least, unexpected.
Cal Emmett blurted the real cause of their astonishment. "You'll haveto sign the pledge, first pass," he said. "That's going to be the antein _her_ game. How--"
"Well, I don't play nobody's hand, or stake anybody's chips, but myown," Irish retorted, the blood showing under the tan on his cheeks.
"And we won't das't roll a cigarette, even, by golly!" reminded Slim.For Miss Martin, whether intentionally or not, had made plain to themthe platform of the new society.
Irish got some d
eep creases between his eyebrows, and put back hissaddle. "You can do as yuh like," he said, coldly. "I'm going to stayand go to meeting this afternoon, according to her invite. If it'sgoing to make that poor old freak feel any better thinking she's areal missionary--" He turned and walked out of the stable withoutfinishing the sentence, and the Happy Family stood quite still andwatched him go.
Pink it was who first spoke. "I ain't the boy to let any long-leggedson-of-a-gun like Irish hit a gait I can't follow," he dimpled, andtook the saddle reluctantly off Toots. "If he can stand it, I guess Ican."
Weary loosened his latigo. "If Cadwolloper is going to learn poetry, Iwill, too," he grinned. "Mama! it'll be good as a three-ringed circus!I never thought uh that, before. I couldn't miss it."
"Oh, well, if you fellows take a hand, I'll sure have to be there tosee," Andy decided. "Two o'clock, did she say?"
* * * * *
"I hate to be called a quitter," Pink remarked dispiritedly to theHappy Family in general; a harassed looking Happy Family, which sataround and said little, and watched the clock. In an hour they wouldbe due to attend the second meeting of the M.I.S.S.--and one wouldthink, from the look of them, that they were about to be hanged. "Ihate to be called a quitter, but right here's where I lay 'em down.The rest of yuh can go on being improved, if yuh want to--darned if Iwill, though. I'm all in."
"I don't recollect hearing anybody say we wanted to," growled JackBates. "Irish, maybe, is still burning with a desire to be nice andchivalrous; but you can count me out. One dose is about all I canstand."
"By golly, I wouldn't go and feel that foolish again, not if yuh paidme for it," Slim declared.
Irish grinned and reached for his hat. "I done my damnettest," he saidcheerfully. "I made the old girl happy once; now, one Irish Mallory isdue to have a little joy coming his way. I'm going to town."
"'Break, break, break, on thy cold, gray crags, oh sea, And I would that my tongue could utter the thoughts that come over me.'
"You will observe, gentlemen, the beautiful sentiment, the euphoniousrhythm, the noble--" Weary went down, still declaiming mincingly,beneath four irate bodies that hurled themselves toward him and uponhim.
"We'll break, break, break every bone in your body if you don't shutup. You will observe the beautiful sentiment of _that_ a while," criedPink viciously. "I've had the euphonious rhythm of my sleep broke upever since I set there and listened at her for two hours. Josephine!"
Irish stopped with his hand on the door knob. "I was the jay thatstarted it," he admitted contritely. "But, honest, I never had a hunchshe was plumb locoed; I thought she was just simply foolish. Come onto town, boys!"
Such is the power of suggestion that in fifteen minutes the HappyFamily had passed out of sight over the top of the grade; all saveAndy Green, who told them he would be along after a while, and thatthey need not wait. He looked at the clock, smoked a meditativecigarette and went up to the White House, to attend the second meetingof the Mutual Improvement and Social Society.
When he faced alone Miss Verbena Martin, and explained that the othermembers were unavoidably absent because they had a grudge against aman in Dry Lake and had gone in to lynch him and burn the town, MissMartin was shocked into postponing the meeting. Andy said he was glad,because he wanted to go in and see the fight; undoubtedly, he assuredher, there would be a fight, and probably a few of them would getkilled off. He reminded her that he had told her right in the startthat they were a bad lot, and that she would have hard work reformingthem; and finally, he made her promise that she would not mention toanyone what he had told her, because it wouldn't be safe for him, orfor her, if they ever got to hear of it. After that Andy also took thetrail to town, and he went at a gallop and smiled as he rode.
Miss Martin reflected shudderingly upon the awful details of thecrime, as hinted at by Andy, and packed her trunk. It might be braveand noble to stay and work among all those savages, but she doubtedmuch whether it were after all her duty. She thought of many ways inwhich she could do more real good nearer home. She had felt all alongthat these cowboys were an untrustworthy lot; she had noticed themglancing at one another in a secret and treacherous manner, allthrough the last meeting, and she was positive they had not given herthat full confidence without which no good can be accomplished. Thatfellow they called Happy looked capable of almost any crime; she hadnever felt quite safe in his presence.
Miss Martin pictured them howling and dancing around the burningdwellings of their enemies, shooting every one they could see; MissMartin had imagination, of a sort. But while she pictured the horrorsof an Indian massacre she continued to pack her suit-case and toconsult often her watch. When she could do no more it occurred to herthat she would better see if someone could take her to the station.Fortunately for all concerned, somebody could. One might go furtherand say that somebody was quite willing to strain a point, even, inorder to get her there in time for the next train.
* * * * *
The Happy Family was gathered in Rusty Brown's place, watching Irishdo things to a sheep-man from Lonesome Prairie, in a game of pool.They were just giving vent to a prolonged whoop of derision at thesheep-man's play, when a rig flashed by the window. Weary stopped withhis mouth wide open and stared; leaned to the window and craned to seemore clearly.
"Mama mine!" he ejaculated incredulously. "I could swear I saw MissVerbena in that rig, with her trunk, and headed towards the depot.Feel my pulse, Cadwolloper, and see if I'm normal."
But Pink was on his way to the back door, and from there climbed likea cat to the roof of the coal-house, where, as he knew fromexperience, one could see the trail to the depot, and the depotitself.
"It's sure her," he announced. "Chip's driving like hell, and thesmoke uh the train's just coming around the bend from the big field.Wonder what struck her so sudden?" He turned and looked down into thegrinning face of Andy Green.
"She was real insulted because you fellows played hookey," Andyexplained. "I tried to explain, but it didn't help none. I don'tbelieve her heart went out to us like she claimed, anyhow."
* * * * *