CHAPTER VI
"TO BE OR NOT TO BE"
They were seated rather close together upon the steep hillside, gazingsilently down upon squalid Glencaid. At such considerable distance allthe dull shabbiness of the mining town had disappeared, and it seemedalmost ideal, viewed against the natural background of brown rocks andgreen trees. All about them was the clear, invigorating air of theuplands, through which the eyes might trace for miles the range ofirregular rocky hills, while just above, seemingly almost within touchof the extended hand, drooped the blue circling sky, unflecked bycloud. Everywhere was loneliness, no sound telling of the labor of manreached them, and the few scattered buildings far below resembling meredoll-houses.
They had conversed only upon the constantly changing beauty of thescene, or of incidents connected with their upward climb, while movingslowly along the trail through the fresh morning sunshine. Now theysat in silence, the young girl, with cheeks flushed and dreamy eyesaglow, gazing far off along the valley, the man watching her curiously,and wondering how best to approach his task. For the first time hebegan to realize the truth, which had been partially borne in upon himthe previous evening by Wynkoop, that this was no mere child with whomhe dealt, but a young girl upon the verge of womanhood. Such knowledgebegan to reveal much that came before him as new, changing the entirenature of their present relationship, as well as the scope of his ownplain duty. It was his wont to look things squarely in the face, andunpleasant and unwelcome as was the task now confronting him, duringthe long night hours he had settled it once for all--the preacher'swords were just.
Observing her now, sitting thus in total unconsciousness of hisscrutiny, Hampton made no attempt to analyze the depth of his interestfor this waif who had come drifting into his life. He did not in theleast comprehend why she should have touched his heart with generousimpulses, nor did he greatly care. The fact was far the moreimportant, and that fact he no longer questioned. He had been alonely, unhappy, discontented man for many a long year, shunned by hisown sex, who feared him, never long seeking the society of the other,and retaining little real respect for himself. Under such conditions areaction was not unnatural, and, short as the time had been since theirfirst meeting, this odd, straightforward chit of a girl had found anabiding-place in his heart, had furnished him a distinct motive in lifebefore unknown.
Even to his somewhat prejudiced eyes she was not an attractivecreature, for she possessed no clear conception of how to renderapparent those few feminine charms she possessed. Negligence and totalunconsciousness of self, coupled with lack of womanly companionship andguidance, had left her altogether in the rough. He marked now thecoarse ragged shoes, the cheap patched skirt, the tousled auburn hair,the sunburnt cheeks with a suggestion of freckles plainly visiblebeneath the eyes, and some of the fastidiousness of earlier days causedhim to shrug his shoulders. Yet underneath the tan there was the glowof perfect young health; the eyes were frank, brave, unflinching; whilethe rounded chin held a world of character in its firm contour.Somehow the sight of this brought back to him that abiding faith in her"dead gameness" which had first awakened his admiration. "She's got itin her," he thought, silently, "and, by thunder! I 'm here to help herget it out."
"Kid," he ventured at last, turning over a broken fragment of rockbetween his restless fingers, but without lifting his eyes, "you weretalking while we came up the trail about how we 'd do this and thatafter a while. You don't suppose I 'm going to have any useless girllike you hanging around on to me, do you?"
She glanced quickly about at him, as though such unexpected expressionsstartled her from a pleasant reverie. "Why, I--I thought that was theway you planned it yesterday," she exclaimed, doubtfully.
"Oh, yesterday! Well, you see, yesterday I was sort of dreaming;to-day I am wide awake, and I 've about decided, Kid, that for your owngood, and my comfort, I 've got to shake you."
A sudden gleam of fierce resentment leaped into the dark eyes, theunrestrained glow of a passion which had never known control. "Oh, youhave, have you, Mister Bob Hampton? You have about decided! Well, whydon't you altogether decide? I don't think I'm down on my kneesbegging you for mercy. Good Lord! I reckon I can get along all rightwithout you--I did before. Just what happened to give you such achange of heart?"
"I made the sudden discovery," he said, affecting a laziness he wasvery far from feeling, "that you were too near being a young woman togo traipsing around the country with me, living at shacks, and havingno company but gambling sharks, and that class of cattle."
"Oh, did you? What else?"
"Only that our tempers don't exactly seem to jibe, and the two of uscan't be bosses in the same ranch."
She looked at him contemptuously, swinging her body farther around onthe rock, and sitting stiffly, the color on her cheeks deepeningthrough the sunburn. "Now see here, Mister Bob Hampton, you're afraud, and you know it! Did n't I understand exactly who you was, andwhat was your business? Did n't I know you was a gambler, and a 'badman'? Didn't I tell you plain enough out yonder,"--and her voicefaltered slightly,--"just what I thought about you? Good Lord! I haven't been begging to stick with you, have I? I just didn't know whichway to turn, or who to turn to, after dad was killed, and you sorterhung on to me, and I let it go the way I supposed you wanted it. But I'm not particularly stuck on your style, let me tell you, and I reckonthere 's plenty of ways for me to get along. Only first, I propose tounderstand what your little game is. You don't throw down your handlike that without some reason."
Hampton sat up, spurred into instant admiration by such independence ofspirit. "You grow rather good-looking, Kid, when you get hot, but yougo at things half-cocked, and you 've got to get over it. That's thewhole trouble--you 've never been trained, and I would n't make much ofa trainer for a high-strung filly like you. Ever remember your mother?"
"Mighty little; reckon she must have died when I was about five yearsold. That's her picture."
Hampton took in his hand the old-fashioned locket she held out towardhim, the long chain still clasped about her throat, and pried open thestiff catch with his knife blade. She bent down to fasten her loosenedshoe, and when her eyes were uplifted again his gaze was riveted uponthe face in the picture.
"Mighty pretty, wasn't she?" she asked with a sudden girlish interest,bending forward to look, regardless of his strained attitude. "And shewas prettier than that even, the way I remember her best, with her hairall hanging down, coming to tuck me into bed at night. Someway that'show I always seem to see her."
The man drew a deep breath, and snapped shut the locket, yet stillretained it in his hand. "Is--is she dead?" he questioned, and hisvoice trembled in spite of steel nerves.
"Yes, in St. Louis; dad took me there with him two years ago, and I sawher grave."
"Dad? Do you mean old Gillis?"
She nodded, beginning dimly to wonder why he should speak so fiercelyand stare at her in that odd way. He seemed to choke twice before hecould ask the next question.
"Did he--old Gillis, I mean--claim to be your father, or her husband?"
"No, I don't reckon he ever did, but he gave me that picture, and toldme she was my mother. I always lived with him, and called him dad. Ireckon he liked it, and he was mighty good to me. We were at Randolpha long time, and since then he's been post-trader at Bethune. That'sall I know about it, for dad never talked very much, and he used to getmad when I asked him questions."
Hampton dropped the locket from his grasp, and arose to his feet. Forseveral minutes he stood with his back turned toward her, apparentlygazing down the valley, his jaw set, his dimmed eyes seeing nothing.Slowly the color came creeping back into his face, and his handsunclinched. Then he wheeled about, and looked down upon her,completely restored to his old nature.
"Then it seems that it is just you and I, Kid, who have got to settlethis little affair," he announced, firmly. "I 'll have my say aboutit, and then you can uncork your feelings. I rather imagine I have n'
tvery much legal right in the premises, but I 've got a sort of moralgrip on you by reason of having pulled you out alive from that canyonyonder, and I propose to play this game to the limit. You say yourmother is dead, and the man who raised you is dead, and, so far aseither of us know, there is n't a soul anywhere on earth who possessesany claim over you, or any desire to have. Then, naturally, the wholejack-pot is up to me, provided I 've got the cards. Now, Kid, wavingyour prejudice aside, I ain't just exactly the best man in this worldto bring up a girl like you and make a lady out of her. I thoughtyesterday that maybe we might manage to hitch along together for awhile, but I 've got a different think coming to-day. There 's no usedisfiguring the truth. I 'm a gambler, something of a fighter on theside, and folks don't say anything too pleasant about my peacefuldisposition around these settlements; I have n't any home, and mightyfew friends, and the few I have got are nothing to boast about. Ireckon there 's a cause for it all. So, considering everything, I 'mabout the poorest proposition ever was heard of to start a youngladies' seminary. The Lord knows old Gillis was bad enough, but I 'm adamned sight worse. Now, some woman has got to take you in hand, and Ireckon I 've found the right one."
"Goin' to get married, Bob?"
"Not this year; it's hardly become so serious as that, but I 'm goingto find you a good home here, and I 'm going to put up plenty of stuff,so that they 'll take care of you all right and proper."
The dark eyes never wavered as they looked steadily into the gray ones,but the chin quivered slightly.
"I reckon I 'd rather try it alone," she announced stubbornly. "MaybeI might have stood it with you, Bob Hampton, but a woman is the limit."
Hampton in other and happier days had made something of a study of thefeminine nature, and he realized now the utter impracticability of anyattempt at driving.
"I expect it will go rather hard at first, Kid," he admitted craftily,"but I think you might try it a while just to sort of please me."
"Who--who is she?" doubtfully.
"Mrs. Herndon, wife of the superintendent of the 'Golden Rule' mine";and he waved his hand toward the distant houses. "They tell me she's amighty fine woman."
"Oh, they do? Then somebody's been stirring you up about me, havethey? I thought that was about the way of it. Somebody wants toreform me, I reckon. Well, maybe I won't be reformed. Who was it,Bob?"
"The Presbyterian Missionary," he confessed reluctantly, "a nervylittle chap named Wynkoop; he came in to see me last night while youwere asleep." He faced her open scorn unshrinkingly, his mind fullydecided, and clinging to one thought with all the tenacity of hisnature.
"A preacher!" her voice vibrant with derision, "a preacher! Well, ofall things, Bob Hampton! You led around by the nose in that way! Didhe want you to bring me to Sunday school? A preacher! And I supposethe fellow expects to turn me over to one of his flock for religiousinstruction. He'll have you studying theology inside of a year. Apreacher! Oh, Lord, and you agreed! Well, I won't go; so there!"
"As I understand the affair," Hampton continued, as she paused forbreath, "it was Lieutenant Brant who suggested the idea of his comingto me. Brant knew Gillis, and remembered you, and realizing yourunpleasant situation, thought such an arrangement would be for yourbenefit."
"Brant!" she burst forth in renewed anger; "he did, did he! Theputty-faced dandy! I used to see him at Bethune, and you can bet henever bothered his head about me then. No, and he didn't even know meout yonder, until after the sergeant spoke up. What business has thatfellow got planning what I shall do?"
Hampton made no attempt to answer. It was better to let herindignation die out naturally, and so he asked a question. "What isthis Brant doing at Bethune? There is no cavalry stationed there."
She glanced up quickly, interested by the sudden change in his voice."I heard dad say he was kept there on some special detail. Hisregiment is stationed at Fort Lincoln, somewhere farther north. Heused to come down and talk with dad evenings, because daddy saw servicein the Seventh when it was first organized after the war."
"Did you--did you ever hear either of them say anything about MajorAlfred Brant? He must have been this lad's father."
"No, I never heard much they said. Did you know him?"
"The father, yes, but that was years ago. Come, Kid, all this is onlyancient history, and just as well forgotten. Now, you are a sensiblegirl, when your temper don't get away with you, and I am simply goingto leave this matter to your better judgment. Will you go to Mrs.Herndon's, and find out how you like it? You need n't stop there anhour if she is n't good to you, but you ought not to want to remainwith me, and grow up like a rough boy."
"You--you really want me to go, don't you?"
"Yes, I want you to go. It's a chance for you, Kid, and there is n't abit of a show in the kind of a life I lead. I never have been in lovewith it myself, and only took to it in the first place because thedevil happened to drive me that way. The Lord knows I don't want tolead any one else through such a muck. So it is a try?"
The look of defiance faded slowly out of her face as she stood gravelyregarding him. The man was in deadly earnest, and she felt the quietinsistence of his manner. He really desired it to be decided in thisway, and somehow his will had become her law, although such a suspicionhad never once entered her mind.
"You bet, if you put it that way," she consented, simply, "but I reckonthat Mrs. Herndon is likely to wish I hadn't."
Together, yet scarcely exchanging another word, the two retraced theirsteps slowly down the steep trail leading toward the little town in thevalley, walking unconsciously the pathway of fate, the way of all theworld.
Bob Hampton of Placer Page 6