The Girl of the Golden West

by David Belasco

  XV.

  As has been said, it was a custom of the miners, whenever a storm madeit impossible for them to work in the mines, to turn the dance-hall ofthe Polka Saloon into an Academy, the post of teacher being filled bythe Girl. It happened, therefore, that early the following morning themen of Cloudy Mountain Camp assembled in the low, narrow room with itswalls of boards nailed across inside upright beams--a typical miners'dance-hall of the late Forties--which they had transformed into averitable bower, so eager were they to please their lovely teacher.Everyone was in high spirits, Rance alone refraining from taking anypart whatsoever in the morning's activities; dejectedly, sullenly, hesat tilted back in an old, weather-beaten, lumber chair before theheavily-dented, sheet-iron stove in a far corner of the room, gazingabstractedly up towards the stove's rusty pipe that ran directly throughthe ceiling; and what with his pale, waxen countenance, his eyes red andhalf-closed for the want of sleep, his hair ruffled, his necktie awry,his waistcoat unfastened, his boots unpolished, and the burnt-out cigarwhich he held between his white, emaciated fingers, he was not theimmaculate-looking Rance of old, but presented a very sad spectacleindeed.

  Outside, through the windows,--over which had been hung curtains of redand yellow cotton,--could be seen the green firs on the mountain, theirbranches dazzling under their burden of snow crystals; and stretchingout seemingly interminably until the line of earth and sky met were thegreat hills white with snow except in the spots where the wind had sweptit away. But within the little, low dance-hall, everywhere wereevidences of festivity and good cheer, the walls being literally coveredwith pine boughs and wreaths of berries, while here and there was aneagle's wing or an owl's head, a hawk or a vulture, a quail or asnow-bird, not to mention the big, stuffed game cock that was mounted ona piece of weather-beaten board, until it would seem as if every varietyof bird native to the Sierra Mountains was represented there.

  Grouped together on one side of the wall were twelve buck horns, andthese served as a sort of rack for the miners to hang their hats andcoats during the school session. Several mottoes, likewise upon thewall, were intended to attract the students' attention, the mostconspicuous being: "Live and Learn" and "God Bless Our School." A greatbear's skin formed a curtain between the dance-hall and the saloon,while upon the door-frame was a large hand rudely painted, theindex-finger outstretched and pointing to the next room. It said:"To The Bar."

  It was, however, upon the teacher's desk--a whittled-up, hand-madeaffair which stood upon a slightly-raised platform--that the boys hadoutdone themselves in the matter of decoration. Garlanded both on topand around the sides with pine boughs and upon the centre of which stooda tall glass filled with red and white berries, it looked not unlike asacrificial altar which, in a way, it certainly was. A box that wasintended for a seat for the teacher was also decorated with pinebranches; while several cheap, print flags adorned the primitive ironholder of the large lamp suspended from the ceiling in the centre of theroom. Altogether it was a most festive-looking Academy that was destinedto meet the teacher's eye on this particular morning.

  For some time Nick had been standing near the window gazing in thedirection of the Girl's cabin. Turning, suddenly, to Rance, the onlyother occupant of the room, he remarked somewhat sadly:

  "I'd be willin' to lose the profits of the bar if we could git back to aweek ago--before Johnson walked into this room."

  At the mention of the road agent's name Rance's eyes dropped to thefloor. It required no flash of inspiration to tell him that things wouldnever be what they had been.

  "Johnson," he muttered, his face ashen white and a sound in his throatthat was something like a groan. "A week--a week in her cabin--nursedand kissed . . ." he finished shortly.

  Nick had been helping himself to a drink; he wheeled swiftly round,confronting him.

  "Oh, say, Rance, she--"

  Rance took the words out of his mouth.

  "Never kissed him! You bet she kissed him! It was all I could do to keepfrom telling the whole camp he was up there." His eyes blazed and hishands tightened convulsively.

  "But you didn't . . ." Nick broke in on him quickly. "If I hadn't beenlet into the game by the Girl I'd a thought you were a level Sherifflookin' for him. Rance, you're my ideal of a perfect gent."

  Rance braced up in his chair.

  "What did she see in that Sacramento shrimp, will you tell me?"presently he questioned, contempt showing on every line of his face.

  The little barkeeper did not answer at once, but filled a glass withwhisky which he handed to him.

  "Well, you see, I figger it out this way, boss," at last he answered,meeting him face to face frankly, earnestly, his foot the while restingon the other's chair. "Love's like a drink that gits a hold on you an'you can't quit. It's a turn of the head or a touch of the hands, or it'sa half sort of smile, an' you're doped, doped, doped with a feelin' likestrong liquor runnin' through your veins, an' there ain't nothin' onearth can break it up once you've got the habit. That's love."

  Touched by the little barkeeper's droll philosophy, the Sheriff droppedhis head on his breast, while the hand which held the glassunconsciously fell to his side.

  "I've got it," went on Nick with enthusiasm; "you've got it; the boy'sgot it; the Girl's got it; the whole damn world's got it. It's all theheaven there is on earth, an' in nine cases out of ten it's hell."

  Rance opened his lips to speak, but quickly drew them in tightly. Thenext instant Nick touched him lightly on the shoulder and pointed to theempty glass in his hand, the contents having run out upon the floor.

  With a mere glance at the empty glass Rance returned it to Nick.Presently, then, he took out his watch and fell to studying its faceintently, and only when he had finally returned the watch to his pocketdid he voice what was in his mind.

  "Well, Nick," he said, "her road agent's got off by now."

  Whereupon, the barkeeper, too, took out his watch and consulted it.

  "Left Cloudy at three o'clock this morning--five hours off . . ." washis brief comment.

  Once more a silence fell upon the room. Then, all of a sudden, the soundof horses' hoofs and the murmur of rough voices came to their ears, andalmost instantly a voice was heard to cry out:

  "Hello!"

  "Hello!" came from an answering voice.

  "Why, it's The Pony Express got through at last!" announced Nick,incredulously; and so saying he took up the whisky bottle and glasseswhich lay on the teacher's desk and dashed into the saloon. He hadbarely left, however, than The Pony Express, muffled up to his ears andlooking fit to brave the fiercest of storms, entered the room, hailingthe boys with:

  "Hello, boys! Letter for Ashby!"

  The Deputy--who with Trinidad and Sonora had come running in, the lattercarrying a boot-leg and a stove-polishing brush in his hand--took theletter and started in search of the Wells Fargo Agent who, Rance hadtold them, had gone to sleep.

  "Well, boys, how d'you like bein' snowed in for a week?" asked The PonyExpress, warming himself by the stove; and then without waiting for ananswer he rattled on: "There's a rumour at The Ridge that you all letRamerrez freeze an' missed a hangin'. Say, they're roarin' at you,chaps!" And with a "So long, boys!" he strode out of the room.

  Sonora started in hot pursuit after him, hollering out:

  "Wait! Wait!" And when The Pony Express halted, he added: "Says you tothe boys at The Ridge as you ride by, the Academy at Cloudy is opento-day full blast!"

  "Whoopee! Whoop!" chimed in Trinidad and began to execute a _pas seul_in the middle of the room, dropping into a chair just in time to avoidrunning into Nick, who hurriedly returned with two glasses and a bottle.

  "Help yourselves, boys," he said; which they did to the accompaniment ofa succession of joyous yells from Trinidad.

  Meantime Rance had relighted the burnt-out cigar which he had beenholding for some time between his fingers, and was sending curls ofsmoke upwards towards the ceiling.

  "Academy," he sneered.

  So
nora surveyed him critically for some moments; at length he said:

  "Say, Rance, what's the matter with you? We began this Academy gametogether--we boys an' the Girl--an' there's a damn pretty piece ofsentiment back of it. She's taught some of us our letters, and--"

  "He's a wearin' mournin' because Johnson didn't fall alive into hishands," interposed Trinidad with a laugh.

  "Is that it?" queried Sonora.

  "Ain't it enough, Rance, that he must be lyin' dead down some canyon,with his mouth full of snow?" A mocking smile was on Trinidad's face ashe asked the question.

  "You done all you could to git 'im," went on Sonora as if there had beenno interruption. "The boys is all satisfied he's dead."

  "Dead?" Rance fairly picked up the word. "Dead? Yes, he's dead," hedeclared tensely, and unconsciously arose and went over to the windowwhere he stood motionless, gazing through the parted curtains at thesnow-covered hills. Presently the boys saw a cynical smile spread overhis face, and a moment later, he added: "The matter with me is that I'ma Chink."

  This depreciation of himself was so thoroughly un-Rance like, that itbrought forth great bursts of laughter from the men, but notwithstandingwhich, Rance went on to admit, in the same sullen tone, that it was allup with him and the Girl.

  "Throwed 'im!" whispered Trinidad to Sonora with a pleased look on hisface.

  Sonora, likewise, was beaming with joy when almost instantly he turnedto Nick with:

  "As sure's you live she's throwed 'im for me!"

  Nick, among his other accomplishments, had a faculty for dumbness andsaid nothing; but a smile which approached a grin formed on his face ashe stood eyeing quizzically first one and then the other. Finally,picking up the empty glasses, he left the room.

  "Will old dog Tray remember me"--immediately sung out Trinidad,gleefully. While Sonora, in the seventh heaven of delight, began tocaper about the room. Of a sudden Nick poked his head in through thedoor to inquire into the cause of their hilarity, but they ignored himcompletely. At the bar-room door, however, Sonora halted and, glancingover his shoulder in the Sheriff's direction, he added in a mosttantalising manner:

  ". . . for me!"

  But while Trinidad and Sonora were going out through one door the Deputywas entering through another. He was greatly agitated and carried in hishand the letter which The Pony Express had entrusted to his keeping forAshby.

  "Why, Ashby's skipped!" he announced uneasily. "Got off just after threethis morning--posse and all."

  A question was in Nick's eyes as he turned upon the speaker with theinterjection:

  "What!" And then as the Deputy made a dash for the bar-room, he addedwith a swift change of manner: "Help yourself, Dep."

  But if Nick was slow to realise the situation, not so the Sheriff, whoinstantly awoke to the fact that the Wells Fargo Agent was on Johnson'strail. His lips drew quickly back in a half-grin.

  "Ashby's after Johnson," presently he said with a savage little laugh."Nick, he was watchin' that greaser . . . Took him ten minutes to saddleup--Johnson has ten minutes' start"--He broke off abruptly and endedimpatiently with: "Oh, Lord, they'll never get him! He's a wonder on theroad--you've got to take your hat off to the damn cuss!" And with a digat the other's ribs that was half-playful, half-serious, he was off inpursuit of Ashby.

  A moment later the miners began to pile in for school, whooping andyelling, their feet covered with snow. Sonora led with an armful ofwood, which he deposited on the floor beside the stove; then cameHandsome Charlie and Happy Halliday, together with Old Steady and BillCrow, who immediately dropped on all fours and began to play leap-frog.

  "Boys gatherin' for school," observed Trinidad, hurriedly opening thedoor; and while the men proceeded to flock in, he got into his jacketwhich lay on a chair beside the teacher's desk.

  "Here, Trin, here's the book!" cried out Happy Halliday; and the book,which was securely tied in a red cotton handkerchief, went flyingthrough the air.

  In those few words the signal was given; the fun was on in earnest.Instantly the miners--veritable school-boys they were, so genuine wastheir merriment--braced themselves for a catch of the book, which hadlanded safely in Trinidad's hands. Now it was aimed at Sonora, whocaught it on the fly; from Sonora it travelled to Old Steady, who sentit whizzing over to Handsome. Now the Deputy made ready to receive it;but instead it landed once more in Sonora's hands amidst cheers of "Comeon, Sonora! Whoopee! Whoop!"

  "Sh-sh-sh, boys!" warned the Deputy as Sonora was about to send the bookon another expedition through the air; "here comes the noo scholar fromWatson's."

  An ominous hush fell upon the room. One could have heard a pin drop asthe school settled itself down with anticipatory grins that said, "Whatwon't we do to Bucking Billy!" Therefore, there was not an eye that wasnot upon the new pupil when with dinner-pail swinging on one arm and theother holding tightly onto a small slate, he slowly advanced towardsthem.

  "Did you ever play Lame Soldier, m' friend?" was Sonora's greeting,while the miners crowded around them.

  "No," replied the big, raw-boned, gullible-looking fellow with a grin.

  "We'll play it after school; you'll be the stirrup," promised Sonora;then turning to his mates with a laugh, which was unobserved by BuckingBilly, he added: "We'll initiate 'im."

  Presently the miners began to move away and Trinidad, picking up a chipwhich he espied under a bench, put it on his shoulder and stood in thecentre of the room, thereby indirectly challenging the new pupil to ascrimmage.

  "Don't do it!" cried Old Steady as he hung up his hat upon a buck's hornon the wall.

  "Go on! Go on!" encouraged Bill Crow, hanging up his hat beside OldSteady's.

  The boys took up his words in chorus.

  "Go on! Go on!"

  Whereupon, Sonora made a dash far the chip and knocked it off ofTrinidad's shoulder, blazing huskily into his face as he did so:

  "You do, do you?"

  In the twinkling of an eye Trinidad's jacket was off and the two menwere engaged in a hand-to-hand scuffle.

  "Soak him!" came from a voice somewhere in the crowd.

  "Hit him!" urged another.

  "Bat him in the eye!" shrieked Handsome Charlie.

  Finally Sonora succeeded in throwing down his opponent and sent himrolling along the floor, the contents of his pockets marking his trail.

  The rafters of The Polka shook to a storm of cheering, and there is notelling when the men would have ceased had not Nick interfered at thatmoment by yelling out:

  "Boys, boys, here she is!"

  "Here comes the Girl!" came simultaneously from Happy Halliday, who hadgot a glimpse of her coming down the trail.

  None the worse for his defeat and fall, Trinidad sprang to his feet;while Sonora made a dash for a seat. They had not been placed; whereuponhe cried out excitedly:

  "The seats, boys, where's the seats?"

  For the few minutes that preceded the Girl's entrance into the room nomen were ever known to work more rapidly or more harmoniously. Theyfairly flew in and out of the room, now bringing in the greatwhittled-up, weather-beaten benches and placing them in school-roomfashion, and then rolling in boxes and casks which served as aground-hold for the planks which were stretched across them for desks.It was in the midst of these pilgrimages that Trinidad rushed over toNick to ask whether he did not think to-day a good time to put thequestion to the Girl.

  Nick's eyes twinkled up with merriment; nevertheless, his face took on adubious look when presently he answered:

  "I wouldn't rush her, Trin--you've got plenty of time . . ." And when heproceeded to put up the blackboard he almost ran into Sonora, who stoodby the teacher's desk getting into his frock coat.

  "Hurry up, boys, hurry up!" urged Trinidad, though he himself smilinglylooked on.

  A moment later the Girl, carrying a small book of poems, walked quietlyinto their midst. She was paler and not as buoyant as usual, but shemanaged to appear cheerful when she said:

  "Hello, boys!"

  T
he men were all smiles and returned her greeting with:

  "Hello, Girl!"

  Then followed the presentation of their offerings--mere trifles, to besure, but given out of the fulness of their hearts. Sonora led with abunch of berries, which was followed by Trinidad with an orange.

  "From 'Frisco," he said simply, watching the effect of his words withpride.

  A bunch of berries was also Happy's contribution, which he made with astiff little bow and the one word:

  "Regards."

  Meantime Nick, faithful friend that he was, went down on his knees andbegan to remove the Girl's moccasins. The knowledge of his proximityencouraged the Girl to glance about her to see if she could detect anysigns on the men's faces which would prove that they suspected the realtruth concerning her absence. Needless to say adoration and love was allthat she saw; nevertheless, she felt ill-at-ease and, unconsciously,repeated:

  "Hello, boys!" And then added, a little more bravely: "How'severythin'?"

  "Bully!" spoke up Handsome Charlie, who was posing for her benefit, aswas his wont, beside one of the desks.

  "Say, we missed you," acknowledged Sonora with a world of tenderness inhis voice. "Never knew you to desert The Polka for a whole week before."

  "No, I--I . . ." stammered guiltily, and with their little gifts turnedabruptly towards her desk lest she should meet their gaze.

  "Academy's opened," suddenly announced Happy, "and--"

  "Yes, I see it is," quickly answered the Girl, brushing away a tear thatpersisted in clinging to her eyelids; slowly, now, she drew off hergloves and laid them on the desk.

  "I guess I'm kind o' nervous to-day, boys," she began.

  "No wonder," observed Sonora. "Road agent's been in camp an' we missed ahangin'. I can't git over that."

  All a-quiver and not daring to meet the men's gaze, much less to discussthe road agent with them, the Girl endeavoured to hide her confusion byasking Nick to help her off with her cape. Turning presently she said ina strained voice:

  "Well, come on, boys--come, now!"

  Immediately the boys fell in line for the opening exercises, whichconsisted of an examination by the Girl of their general appearance.

  "Let me see your hands," she said to the man nearest to her; a glancewas sufficient, and he was expelled from her presence. "Let me seeyours, Sonora," she commanded.

  Holding his hands behind his back the man addressed moved towards herslowly, for he was conscious of the grime that was on them. Before hehad spoken his apology she ordered him none too gently to go and washthem, ending with an emphatic:

  "Git!"

  "Yes'm," was his meek answer, though he called back as he disappeared:"Been blackenin' my boots."

  The Girl took up the word quickly.

  "Boots! Yes, an' look at them boots!" And as each man came up to her,"An' them boots! an' them boots! Get in there the whole lot o' you an'be sure that you leave your whisky behind."

  When all had left the room save Nick, who stood with her cape on his armnear the desk she suddenly became conscious that she still had her hoodon, and at once began to remove it--a proceeding which brought outclearly the extraordinary pallor of her face which, generally, had abright, healthy colouring. Now she beckoned to Nick to draw near. Noneed for her to speak, for he had caught the questioning look in hereyes, and it told him plainer than any words that she was anxious tohear of her lover. He was about to tell her the little he knew when withlips that trembled she finally whispered:

  "Have you heard anythin'? Do you think he got through safe?"

  Nick nodded in the affirmative.

  "I saw 'im off, you know," she went on in the same low voice; then,before Nick could speak, she concluded anxiously: "But s'pose he don'tgit through?"

  "Oh, he'll git through sure! We'll hear he's out of this country prettyquick," consoled the little barkeeper just as Rance, unperceived bythem, quietly entered the room and went over to a chair by the stove.