by Rex Beach
CHAPTER XI
It was several moments after they had left the bank before "Bob" Parkercould manage to slip a word in edgewise, so rapid, so eager was Gray'sflow of conversation, so genuine was his pleasure at again seeing her.Finally, however, she inquired, curiously:
"What was it you said to Henry Nelson as I came out? 'No quarterasked'?"
Her escort stared down at her, his brows lifted, his tone betrayedblank astonishment. "'No quarter asked'? Bless me! What are you talkingabout?" Then his face cleared. "Now I remember--I said I had foundquarters at last. The town is so crowded, you know; I didn't want himto feel bound to put me up. I abhor visiting. Don't you?"
"Are you really good friends? I felt very queer, the instant after Ihad walked in. But--I was bursting with good news and I couldn't seeHenry's face until too late. Then, it seemed to me--"
"Nelson and I are scarcely 'good' friends--we never were chummy--but wewere thrown together in France and saw a lot of each other. At first,my respect for him was not great, for he is a--difficult person tounderstand; but as my understanding grew, so did my respect. He is aremarkably capable man and a determined fighter. Admirable qualities ina soldier. My call to-day was in the nature of a ceremonial."
"Um-m! There's a ceremony before every duel--the salute. I thought Icould hear the ring of steel."
Gray laughed off the suggestion. "Merely the jingle of officers' spurs,I assure you. We amateurs cling to the Regular Army pomp and practice.Frankly, I love it; I admire the military method--a rule for everyoccasion, a rigid adherence to form, no price too high for a necessaryobjective. And the army code! Ironclad and exacting! Honors difficultand disgrace easy. One learns to set great store by both. You've noidea, Miss Good, how precious is the one and how-hideous is the other."
"You mustn't call me Miss Good any longer," the girl told him. "My nameis Barbara Parker."
"Oh, I like that!"
"I'm more generally known as 'Bob.'"
"Even better! It sounds tomboyish."
"It's not. It is Tom Parkerish. Father insisted on calling me thatand--it stuck. He's a man's man and my being a girl was a totalsurprise to him. It completely upset his plans. So I did my best toremedy the mistake and learn to do and to take an interest in thethings he was interested in."
"Those were--?"
Miss Parker looked up from beneath her trim velvet hat and her blueeyes were defiant. "All that people like you disapprove of; all thatyou probably consider undignified and unladylike, such as riding,roping, shooting--"
"Riding--unladylike? It's very smart. And why do you say people 'likeme'? There are no people like me."
"You know what I mean. You're not a Westerner. You are what acowpuncher would call a swell Easterner." Ignoring Gray's grimace ofdislike she went on, deliberately exaggerating her musical Texas drawl."You are a person of education and culture; you speak languages; youhave the broad 'a,' and if you had to go unshaven it would be a livingdeath. You are rich, too, and probably play the piano. People like thatdon't admire cow-girls."
The man laughed heartily. "In spite of my broad 'a' and my safetyrazor, I'm as much of a man's man as your father. Frankly, I don'tadmire cowgirls, but I do admire you and everything you say aboutyourself adds to that admiration. If your father is Tom Parker--well. Icongratulate you upon an admirable taste in the selection of parents."
"Do you know him?" Barbara eagerly inquired.
"No. But I know of him and I know what he stands for. I think we havemany things in common, and I venture to say that he is going to likeme."
Barbara smiled. This vibrant stranger had an air about him and anirresistible magnetism. It was flattering to receive marked attentionsfrom a person of his age and consequence--the girl felt an access ofimportance--and the tone of his voice, his every look, assured her thatshe had indeed challenged his deepest interest. She colored faintly ashe ran on:
"So you're a partner of Henry Nelson's! He doesn't deserve it and--ourfriendship ceases. I shall now hate him. Yes, henceforth he and I shallbe enemies."
"I love to be flattered, but please don't become Henry's enemy. Themost dreadful things happen to them."
"He pretends to be a friend, but in reality he is a suitor--adetestable suitor--and the ties of business bind you closer! I see itall. I--I consider it abominable." Gray's tone was as gay as hisdemeanor had been thus far, nevertheless he was probing deliberately,and the result appeared to verify his earlier suspicions. Calm as hehad appeared to be during that interview in the bank, in reality he hadbeen, and still was, in a state of intense nervous excitement; his mindwas galloping; the effect of that clash had been to rouse in him a keenexaltation and a sense of resistless power. If Henry Nelson wasseriously interested in this girl, he reasoned, here then was anotherweapon ready shaped--a rapier aimed at his enemy's breast--and all hehad to do was grasp it. That promised to be a pleasant undertaking. Norhad he any doubt of success, for Barbara Parker had aroused his likingso promptly that reason--and experience--told him they must be in closesentimental accord. Even had she proven less responsive, he would stillhave been confident of himself, for few women remained long indifferentto his zeal, once he deliberately set about winning them. To build uponthat subtle, involuntary attraction, therefore, and to profit by it,appeared advisable, nay, necessary, for henceforth all must be gristthat came to his mill. In view of his declaration of war, he couldafford to scorn no advantage, however direct or indirect its bearing.
"Tell me about the Briskows," Barbara demanded.
"Of course! I'm dying to do so, but"--Gray looked at his watch--"eventhe good must lunch. No doubt you abhor the public eating places, but,alas--"
"I do. So does everybody who tries them. But our cook has beenspeculating in shares, and yesterday she stalked majestically from thekitchen. She was a wretched cook, anyhow; but we couldn't afford abetter one. We're very poor, dad and I."
"Were poor. Not poor any longer, I hope."
"Oh, that well! It is exciting, isn't it? Dad has gone out there to seeit, so--Yes, I'll lunch with you and be duly grateful."
"Where shall we go?"
Barbara's brows drew together in a frown of consideration, and Graytold himself that she was even more charming when serious than whensmiling. "Wherever we go, we'll be sorry we didn't go somewhere else.We might try the Professor's place. He's a Greek scholar--left hisuniversity to get rich quick in the oil fields, but failed. He starteda sandwich and pie counter--a good one--and it pays better than apumper. But we'd have to sit on high stools and be scowled at if wedidn't gobble our food and make room for others. Then there is PtomaineTommy's. Cafes are good and bad by comparison. After you've been here afew days you'll enjoy Tommy's."
"Then I vote for his poison palace. The very name has a thrill to it."
On their way to the restaurant, Gray said: "Pa and Ma and Allie Briskowand the tutoress have gone to the mountains--Ma's belovedmountains--and they appear to be living up to her expectations. Themountains, I mean. The old dear writes me every week, and her lettersare wonderful, even outside of the spelling. She hasn't lost a singleillusion. She has a soul for adventure, has Ma; she's hunting for cavesnow--keeps her ears open to hear if the ground sounds hollow; wants tofind a mysterious cavern and explore it, with her heart in her mouth.She revels in the clean, green foliage and the spring brooks. She saysthe trees are awful crowded in places and there's no dust on them."
"And Allie has a tutor!"
"The best money could secure. And, by the way, you wouldn't have knownthe girl after you got through with her that day. That was only thebeginning, too. She fills the eye now, and she's growing."
"_Growing?_"
Gray chuckled. "Not physically, but mentally, psychologically,intellectually."
"I said she had possibilities."
"Yes. More than I gave her credit for, but what they are, where theywill lead her, I don't know. I'm a foolish person, Miss Parker, for Itake an intense interest in the affairs of other people, especially myfriends
. My favorite dissipation is to share the troubles of those whomI like, and right now I'm quite as worried over Allie as her father is.You see, she has outdistanced her parents already; the dream part iswearing off and her new life is a reality. She is confronted with thegrim and appalling necessity of adapting herself to a completely newand bewildering set of conditions. I'm not sure that she will be equalto it."
"I presume you mean that she is sensitive."
"Supersensitive! And ambitious! That's the trouble. If she were dulland conceited she could be both happy and contented. But she's bright,and she lacks egotism, so she'll never be either. Adversity wouldtemper a girl like her; prosperity may--spoil her."
"There is a boy, too, isn't there?"
"Oh, Buddy! He's away at school. He'll make a hand, or--well, if hedoesn't, I'll beat the foolishness out of him. I've assumed completeresponsibility for Buddy, and he'll be a credit to me."
There was a tone in Gray's voice when he spoke of the Briskows thatgave Barbara Parker a wholly new insight into his character; it waswith a feeling that she knew him and liked him better that she said:
"You think a lot of those nesters, don't you?"
"More than they believe, and more than I would have thought possible,"he readily declared. "I'm a lonesome institution. There's nobodydependent upon me; I owe no bills, no gratitude, and I've canceled theobligations that others owe me. You've no idea how unnecessary I am. Itgives me a pleasing sense of importance, therefore, to feel that I filla place in somebody's affairs."
Wichita Falls's facilities for public entertainment reflected perhapsas correctly as anything else the general chaos consequent upon itsswift expansion into a city. Such hotels as had been capable of caringfor the transient trade of pre-petroleum days were full and carriedwaiting lists like exclusive clubs; rooming houses and privatedwellings were crowded. A new and modern fireproof hotel was stretchingskeleton fingers of steel skyward, but meanwhile the task ofsheltering, and especially of feeding three times a day, the hungryhordes that bulged the sides of the little city was a difficult one. Towrest possession of a cafe table for two at the rush hour was anundertaking almost as hazardous as jumping a mining claim, but CalvinGray succeeded and eventually he and "Bob" found themselves facing eachother over a discolored tablecloth, reading a soiled menu card to aperspiring waiter. It was in some ways an ideal retreat for atete-a-tete, for the bellowed orders, the rattle of crockery, the voiceof the hungry food battlers, and the clash of their steel made intimateconversation easy. Gray noted with approval the ease with which hisdainty companion adapted herself to the surroundings and remarked uponit.
"After four years in the East it took me a little while to get used toit," she confessed. "The Wichita I left was a quiet town; the one Icame home to was a madhouse. At first the excitement frightened me, forI felt as if I were being run over, tossed aside. But now that I'vefallen in with the chase, why--I think it is splendid."
"Just what are you doing and how do you do it?" Gray wanted to know.
Barbara was glad to tell him about her brief but eventful experiencesince that morning at the Nelson bank when she had executed her coup,and she recited the story with enthusiasm.
"Having no capital to go on," she explained, "I've merely bought andsold on commission so far, but I'm not always going to be a broker. I'mmaking good, and some day dad and I will be big operators. I've beenable to buy a car, and most of my time I'm out in the field. They tellme I'm as good an oil scout as some of the' men working for the bigcompanies; but, of course, I'm not. I merely have an advantage;drillers tell me more than they'd tell a man."
"Of course, with your father along you're safe in going anywhere, butto go through the fields alone--"
"Oh, dad doesn't go!"
"What?" Gray looked up incredulously, but "Bob" nodded her headvigorously.
"Dad hates automobiles; they frighten him. So I go out alone while heruns the office."
"Extraordinary! But, my dear girl, it's dangerous."
"Naturally, I avoid 'Burk' and the Northwest Extension after dark--eventhe scouts do that. But it wouldn't pay anybody to high-jack me. No. Igo right in on the derrick floors and hobnob with the drillers, talkabout their wives and their families, discuss croup and fishing jobs;sometimes they let me taste the sand and even show me the logs of theirwells. It amused them at first to think of a girl playing the gamesingle-handed--most men, however rough, have a sense of chivalry, youknow, and are better sports than they realize. Now--well, they'rebeginning to respect my business ability. They have learned that I keepmy mouth closed and that I'll treat them squarely. Some of them wouldfight for me. I tell you it is the greatest experience, the mostthrilling adventure, a girl ever had."
"You are a brave child, and I admire your courage," Gray declared.
"But I'm not. I'm afraid of everything that other girls are afraid of."Leaning forward confidentially, the girl continued: "I'm a hollow sham,Mr. Gray, but dad doesn't know it. After I learned how badly he wantedme to be a boy, and how he had set his heart on teaching me the thingshe thought a son of his should know, I had a secret meeting with myselfand I voted unanimously to fill the specifications if it killed me. SoI began a fraudulent life. I'm in earnest. For instance, I abhor guns,but I learned to shoot with either hand until--well, I'm pretty expert.And roping! I can build a loop, jump through it, do straight and fancycatches like a cowboy. I worked at it for months, years it seemed tome. I knew very well it was a ridiculous waste of time, but I'll neverforget how proud dad was when I learned the 'butterfly.' That was myreward. Horses used to frighten me blue, but I learned to ride wellenough. In fact, it has been a keen disappointment to him that I won'tenter the Frontier Day contests. He'd like nothing better than to seeme win the bucking-horse match. Think of it! And I'm so timid I can'tlook an oat in the face!" Barbara attempted a shy laugh, but there wasa quaver to her voice, and when Gray continued to stare at her gravely,sympathetically, her face quickly sobered. "Now you understand why myfather doesn't think it necessary to go along on my trips through theoil fields. It has never occurred to him that I'm anything but 'Bob'Parker, his boy. Mind you, he is lost in admiration of me and I rulehim like a slave. I think he is great, too, and he _is_. He is thedearest, gentlest, sweetest father in the world, and I wouldn't havehim learn the hideous truth about me for anything."
For a moment Barbara's listener studied her thoughtfully, then he said:"I'm immensely flattered that you like me well enough to make me yourconfessor. Now I'm going to confess to you that I also am an arrantcoward."
"Please don't joke. You have become quite a famous character, and ifthe stories I hear are true--"
"The stories one hears are never true. I have my share of physicalcourage, perhaps; that's a common, elementary virtue, like generosity,gratitude, sympathy. The most mediocre people are blessed that way."
"Oh! Generosity and gratitude are divine qualities!"
Gray shook his head positively. "Impulses! Heart impulses, not brainimpulses. They have nothing to do with character. Now I'm deathlyafraid of one thing."
"What, pray?"
"Ridicule! You see, I'm egotistical and ostentatious. Oh, very!Disgustingly vain, in fact. If I were unconscious of it, I'd beunbearable, but--it amuses me as much as it amuses others, and thattakes the curse off of it. I am delighted at some of my own antics. Ilove to swagger and I adore an audience, but to be laughed at by otherswould kill me. Ridicule! Scorn! I'm insensible to anything exceptthose."
"You're a queer man."
Gray's gaze became fixed; there was a peculiar light--almost aglitter--in his eyes; he talked on as if voicing some engrossingthought. "Of course, I'm vindictive--that's a part of the swashbucklingcharacter; it goes with the ruffles, the jack boots, and the swagger.It is a luxury of which I am extremely jealous." Bringing his attentionback to the girl, he smiled and his manner changed abruptly. "There!I've proved it all by talking about myself when I'm interested only inyou. However, it is sometimes easier to sell a thing by franklyde
crying it than by covering up its bad points, and I'm tryingdesperately to make a good impression upon you. Now then, I'mtremendously interested in what you have told me about yourself, andI'm sure you are a better oil man--oil girl--than you have led me tosuppose. But these are no times for social pleasantries. We are livingin bedlam. There is nothing in the air but business--oil--profits. Youare a business woman, and if we are to become as well acquainted as Ihope we will, it must be the result of a common business interest. So,then, for a bargain. I am going to enter this field in a large way; ifyou will take me for a client, I will buy and sell through you wheneverpossible. Perhaps we can even speculate together now and then. I'llguarantee you against loss. What do you say?"
"Why--it's a splendid opportunity for me. And I know of some goodthings; I'm overflowing with information, in fact. For instance--"Barbara hurriedly produced her oil map and, shoving aside the dishes infront of her, she spread it upon the table. "There is a wildcat goingdown out here that looks awfully good." As she indicated a tiny circlemarked into the corner of one square, Gray noted that there was adimple at the base of her finger. "The scouts don't think much of it,but I happen to know it is on a structure and has a good showing ofoil. The driller is a friend of mine, and he has told me that hiscasing is set. He'll tip me off when he intends to drill through, andif you like we'll go out there and see what happens. If it comes in, itwill mean a big play on surrounding property; prices will double,treble. My theory is this--"
Gray's head was close to the speaker's, but, although he pretended tolisten to her words and to follow the tracings of her finger withstudious consideration, in reality his attention was fixed upon thetantalizing curve of her smooth cheek and throat. In some perplexity ofspirit he asked himself why it was that mere proximity to this whollysensible and matter-of-fact young creature filled him with such a vagueyet pleasurable excitement. He realized that he was not easilythrilled; feminine beauty, feminine charm were nothing new,nevertheless at this moment he experienced an intense elation, aneagerness of spirit, such as he had not felt since he was in the firstresistless vigor of youth, and his voice, when he spoke, carried anunconscious quality strange to his ears.
It was the more bewildering because nothing had happened to awaken suchfeelings. He had met this unworldly, inexperienced prairie girl buttwice, and on her part she had betrayed no particular attraction forhim. As a matter of fact, she probably considered him an old man--younggirls were like that. Of course, that was absurd. He was right in hisprime, youth sang through his veins at this moment, and yet--she mustlike him, he must have somehow impressed her. That was fortunate, inview of her relations with Henry Nelson; luck was coming his way, andshe would undoubtedly prove useful. The last thing Calvin Graycontemplated was a sentimental woman complication, but on account ofthis girl's peculiar knowledge it seemed to him the part of wisdom tocultivate her--to see as much of her as possible.
"If you will come over to the office, I'll show you how I think thatpool lies," Barbara was saying, and Gray came to with a start.
It was midafternoon when he left the Parker office--at least he thoughtit must be midafternoon until he consulted his watch and discoveredthat, to all intents and purposes, he had completely lost two hours. Anamazing loss, truly. There was no lack of youthful vigor in CalvinGray's movements at any time, but now there was an unusual lightness tohis tread and his lips puckered into a joyous whistle. It had been agreat day, a day of the widest extremes, a day of adventure andromance. And that is what every day should be.