by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER XXV
THE WOLF JOKE
Billy Louise stayed all night. She was afraid to leave Ward until hiscold was safely better, and there was no one living near enough tosummon; no one whom she wanted to summon, in fact, however close theymight have been. She spent most of the night curled comfortably on thewolf-skins beside the stove, with a sack of flour for a pillow andWard's fur coat for covering. Ward slept more unbrokenly than he haddone for a long time, while Billy Louise lay cuddled under the smellyfur and thought and thought.
In the morning, if Ward were well enough, she meant to ask him aboutthose cattle he had mentioned when he thought her Buck Olney. Theywere the same ones which she had seen in the Cove, she knew. Ward hadtold enough to prove that. He had, in fact, told nearly all she neededto know--except the mystery of his prosperity. He had not mentionedthat, and Billy Louise was more curious than ever about his "wolfhunting."
At sunrise she rebuilt the fire and made fresh coffee and a stew fromthe pieces of jerky she had soaked overnight for the purpose. Shewanted eggs, and bread for toast, and fresh cream; but she did not havethem, and so she managed a very creditable breakfast for her patientwithout these desirables.
"Say, that's great. A fellow doesn't appreciate coffee and warm fooduntil he's eaten out of cans and boxes for a month or so. You're agreat little lady, Wilhemina. I wish you'd happened alongsooner--about six weeks sooner. I'd have got some pleasure out of mybroken leg then, maybe."
"Was it--did Buck Olney break it?" Billy Louise knew he had not, butshe had been waiting for a chance to open the subject.
"No. I broke it myself, pulling Rattler off a bank into some rocks. Ibelieve I could walk on it, doctor, if you could rustle me something touse for crutches. That's what held me in bed so long. Beckon youcould manufacture a pair for me?" His eyes made love. "You've doneeverything else." He caught her hand and kissed the palm of it."Can't the Billy part turn carpenter?"
"I'll see. Say, Ward, do you think you could shave off those whiskersif I got everything ready for you? I don't like you to look like oldSourdough. Or maybe I could do it. I--I used to shave daddy's neck,sometimes."
Ward ran his fingers thoughtfully over his hairy cheeks. "I expect Ido look like a prehistoric ancestor. I'll see what I can do about it.I set my own leg; I guess I can shave myself. You're a great doctor,Wilhemina. You knocked that cold up to a peak, all right. But--Idon't believe you'd better tackle barbering, my dear girl."
Billy Louise pouted her lips at him. She could afford to pout now:Ward was so like himself that she did not worry over him at all. Shealso felt that she could afford to badger him into telling her some ofthe things she wanted to know.
"Where did you hang Buck?" she asked naively.
"Huh?" Ward's eyes bored into hers with his intent look, trying toread her thoughts.
"Where was it you hanged Buck Olney?"
"Nowhere. I put the fear of the Lord into him, that's all. How didyou hear about it?"
"From you." Billy Louise was maddeningly calm. "You told me all aboutit yesterday. And about those cattle in the corral up here. I foundthem yesterday myself, Ward--only it seems a month ago!--down in theCove."
"Did you?"
"Yes, and I drove them up to the corral and read the riot act to Marthyand Charlie Fox--"
"Huh! What did they say?"
"Oh, they denied it, of course! What are we going to do about it,Ward?"
"Nothing, I guess. What did you want to do?"
"I don't know. I don't want to hurt them, and I don't want them tohurt anyone else. Do you know Seabeck? He's an awfully square oldfellow. I believe--" An idea formed vaguely in the back of BillyLouise's mind. "I believe I could persuade him--"
"I believe you could persuade the devil himself, if you took a notionto try," Ward affirmed sincerely, when she hesitated. "What do youwant to persuade him into?"
"Oh, nothing, I guess! How do you feel, Ward? We've got to stick tothe job of getting you fit to leave here and go on down to the ranchwith me. When do you think you could manage to ride?"
Ward looked longingly out of the window, just as he had been lookingfor six weeks. "I think I could manage it now," he said doggedly,because of his great longing. "I set my own leg--"
"Yes, and I'm willing to admit you're a wonder, and have gotten thestoics beaten at their own game. Still, there's a limit to what thehuman body will stand. I'm going down to tend the horses, and if youthink you can walk without hurting your leg, I'll hunt some forkedsticks for crutches. We'll see how you make out with them, first,before we talk about riding twenty miles on horseback. Besides, you'dcatch more cold if you went out to-day."
While she talked, her plans took definite shape in the back of hermind. She took Buck Olney's knife that was lying on the window-silland went in search of crutches among the willows along the creek.Forked sticks were plentiful enough, but it was not so easy to find twothat would support even so skinny a man as Ward. She compromised bycutting four that seemed suitable and binding them together in couples.
When she went in with her makeshifts, Ward was sitting upon the side ofthe bunk, clothed and in his right mind--but pitifully wobbly andashamed of his weakness.
"You shouldn't have tried to get up yet," she scolded. "Do you want tobe worse, so I'll have to cure you all over again?" Then, woman-like,she proceeded to annul the effect by petting and sympathy.
It was while she was sitting in the one chair, padding the stickscrudely enough but effectively, that Ward, gazing at her with the lightof love in his eyes, thought of something he had meant to tell her.
"Oh, by the way, I've got something for you, Wilhemina," he said. "Putdown that thing and come over here. I want to shave before I take atry at walking, anyway. See here, lady-mine. How would you like thesestrung on a gold chain?"
From under his pillow he drew out a tobacco sack and emptied thecontents into her palm. "Those are your Christmas present, Bill-Loo.Like 'em?"
"Do I!" Billy Louise held up the biggest one and stared at itround-eyed. "Gold nuggets! Where in the world--"
"That's what I'm going to tell you--now you're through being just pals.Oh, I'd have told you, anyway, I reckon, only the play never cameright, after that first little squabble we had over it." He put an armaround her, pulled her down beside him, and rubbed his bristly chinover her hair. "That's the wolf joke, William. I did make a lot ofmoney wolfing--on the square. I dug out a den of pups and struck alittle pocket of pretty rich gravel. I've been busy panning it out allthe time I could spare, till the creek froze up."
"You found a gold mine?" Billy Louise gasped. "Why, whoever would havethought--"
"Oh, I wouldn't call it a gold mine, exactly," he hastened to assureher, before her imagination dazzled her. "There isn't enough of it.It's just a pocket. I've cleaned up about eighteen hundred dollars,this summer, besides these nuggets. Maybe more. And there's some leftyet. I found both ends of the streak; it lies along a ledge on theside of a gully. I couldn't find anything except in that one streak ofgravel; and when that's gone she's done, as near as I can figure. Butit isn't all gone yet, lady mine. There's enough left to pay thepreacher, anyway. That big fellow I found along toward the last, justbefore I quit working." He kissed her gravely. "Poor old girl! She'sdead game, all right, and she's kind of had the cards stacked againsther from the start. But things are going to come easier from now on,if I'm any prophet. It's too bad--"
Billy Louise read his thought.
"Mommie looked so peaceful, Ward. At the last, I mean. If I couldhave waked her up, I don't believe I'd have had the heart to do it.She never was very happy; you know that. She couldn't seem to see thehappiness in little things. So many are like that. And she lookedhappier--at the last--than I ever saw her look before. So--I'mhappier, too--since yesterday."
"Are you?" Ward dropped his face against her hair and held it therefor a minute. It was not his cold altogether that had
made his voicebreak hoarsely over those two words.
"Do you know--" Billy Louise was lifting the nuggets one after theother and letting them drop to her lap--"happiness is like gold, Ward.We've got to pan it out of life ourselves. If we try to steal it fromsomeone else, we pay the penalty, don't you think? And so many golooking and looking for great big chunks of it all--all--whatever theydo to it." She laughed a little at her ignorance of the technicalprocess. "You see what I mean, don't you? We get a streak of gravel;that's life. And we can pan out happiness if we try--little nuggetsand sometimes just colors--but it keeps us hoping and working."
"Doctor of philosophy!" Ward kissed her hair. "You're a great littlegirl, all right. And I'm the buckaroo that has struck a mighty richstreak of pay dirt in life, Wilhemina. I'm panning out happinessmillions to the pan right now."
Billy Louise, attacked with a spasm of shyness, went abruptly back topadding the makeshift crutches and changed the subject.
"I'm going home, soon as I fix you comfy," she said.
Whereupon Ward protested most strenuously and did not look in the leastlike a man who has just announced himself a millionaire in happiness.
"What for?" he demanded, after he had exhausted himself to no purposein telling her that she should not leave the cabin until he could goalong.
"I want eggs--for you, you ungrateful beast. And some bread for toast.And I want to tell Phoebe and John where I am."
"You think those Injuns are going to hurt themselves worrying? I don'twant any eggs and toast. I've managed all right on crackers and jerkyfor six weeks, so I guess I can stand it a few hours longer. Still, ifyou're crazy to go--" He dropped back on the pillow and turned hisface away.
Billy Louise worked silently until she had made the crutches as soft ontop as she could. Then she hunted for Ward's razor and shaving-cup andafter one or two failures--through using too much water--she managed tomake a cup of very nice lather.
"Now, buckaroo, don't be a sulky kid," she said, firmly as she could."You know it's hard enough for me to go off and leave you here likethis. But, as you say, you've managed to get along for six weekswithout me, so--"
"Sure. I could do it again, I reckon." Ward turned a gloomy pair ofeyes upon her. "What's the rush? Do you think it isn't proper--"
"It's always proper to do what is right and helpful and kind," saidBilly Louise with dignity, because she had made up her mind and wastrying not to weaken. "I've lived in this country all my life, and Iguess my reputation will stand this little strain," she went onlightly, "even if anyone finds it out. I've got to go, that's all.Those people in the Cove--" It was eloquent of her stern justice thatshe could not bring herself to speak them by name.
"You aren't going to turn them over to the sheriff, are you, William?Good Lord, girl! If I can--"
"Your lather is getting cold," Billy Louise said evenly. "I ought tohave known better than mention the subject at all. I'm going to dowhat's right. I believe I have some faint idea of right and wrong,Ward Warren. And I'm not going to do anything that I don't feel isright, or anything that I'll be sorry for. You might trust me, Ithink. It's early yet--"
"You'll come back before night, won't you?" From his tone, Ward hadyielded the point--and was minded to yield with what graciousness hecould command. It had occurred to him that he was behaving like aselfish booby. Billy Louise should not call him weak-kneed; whateverhappened.
"No, I don't think I can, Ward. I might send John."
"You needn't bother. I don't want John."
"Well, I don't suppose he would be much comfort. I'll make a pot ofcoffee, Ward, and I'll fill the lantern and fix it so you can heat acup when you want to; how will that be?" She brightened a little atthe idea. "And I'll fix your lungs up again before I go and bake somenice, hot biscuits and put here, and butter, and fix you just as comfyas possible. Or, if you can manage to get around with the crutches,all the better. I'll leave things so you won't have to go outside fora thing.
"And, Ward"--she bent over him anxiously--"I'm going because I must.For all our sakes I must go right away. And I'll come back to-morrowjust as early as I can get here. So if you are real good, and takecare of your cold, and get a little strong about walking, you can goback with me. And to-morrow night you can sit in daddy's chair beforethe fireplace, and we'll have chicken and--"
"All right--all right!" Ward laughed suddenly. "Will you give me alump of sugar and let me look at all the pitty pittys in the album?Oh, you William the Conqueror!" He caught her close, when he saw thathe had hurt her feelings a little, and held her a minute. "When I gettwo good legs under me, Wilhemina," he promised softly, "I'm going tostake myself to the job of taking care of you. Your cheeks are prettythin, little lady-girl. Damn the luck, anyway!"
"Here's the lather. I'm going down and saddle up," said Billy Louise."When I come back, we'll see how the crutches work."
"Oh, say!" Ward called after her. "My saddle's behind a buck bush upalong the trail where the bank is cut straight. I forgot about that.And would you mind bringing the looking-glass, William? How the deucedo you think a man's going to shave without a glass? And that oldpaper to wipe the lather on, while you're at it. I see the Billy ofyou hasn't got to the shaving-point yet, at any rate!"
Billy Louise took down the glass and flung it on the bed, threw thenewspaper after it, and departed with her chin in the air to find hissaddle and bridle and carry them to the stable.
Ward, sitting up in bed, stared at the closed door remorsefully. Whenhe was convinced that she did not intend to return even for the lastword which is so tempting to a woman, he reached for the glass, held itup, and looked within.
"Sufferin' saddle blankets!" he grunted and dropped the glass. "Andshe could kiss a mug like that!"