Jessica Trent: Her Life On A Ranch Part 9

By this time Jessica was laughing, as her old friend had meant she should be. In his contemptuous harangue of the man he disliked and mistrusted, there had been more humor than anger.

"Well, my lady, that did me good. Haven't had such a thorough housecleaning of my mean thoughts in quite a spell. Feel all ready for a fresh voyage under the new captain. You rest run along and find that long sufferin' mother of yours and tell her the coast's clear of that pirate craft. We've all shipped men-o'-war, now, and run up the old flag of truth and love. That was the banner your father floated from his masthead, and the colors that'll never dip to lying or cheating. Wait. I'll pack this baby Luis to his bed. Poor little castaway, that your good father picked up in the canyon and fetched home in his arms, to share the best with his own. Well, needn't tell me that the family of a man as good as he was'll ever come to want. Heave ahead, captain. Show me the track to sail."

Jessica stopped to bid the other ranchmen good-night, then led the sailor to the little bedroom which the lads shared in common, and where Ned was already asleep, tucked in his white cot by his mother, who let no personal grief interfere with her care for others.

"Good-night, dear Samson. I must find that paper. You must help me. My mother must not, shall not, lose her home."

"Never. Good-night, captain. You've a good crew on deck and we'll make happy haven yet."

That was Jessica Trent's first wakeful night. Though she tried to lie quietly in her own little bed, lest she should disturb her mother whose room she shared, she fancied all sorts of strange sounds, both in-doors and out; and whenever she dropped into a doze, dreamed of the missing paper and of searching for it.

One dream was so vivid that she woke, exclaiming:

"Oh, mother! I've found it. The black tin box under the three sharp rocks!"

But her eyes opened upon vacancy, and there was no response from the larger bed where her anxious parent had, at last, fallen asleep. Yet the vision remained, painted upon the darkness, as it were, a sun-lighted glowing spot, with three pyramidal rocks and a clump of scraggly live oaks. A spot she had never seen, indeed, but felt that she should instantly recognize, should she come upon it anywhere.

Then she curled back upon her pillows and again shut her eyes.

Could it be possible that she, a healthy little girl, was growing fidgety, like Aunt Sally Benton, who sometimes came to visit her son and help with the sewing? For she surely was hearing things. Movements, hushed footfalls, softly closing doors, creaking floors, at an hour when all the household should be at rest.

"How silly! It may be somebody is ill! Wun Lung's hand may hurt him, though it seemed so nearly well, and n.o.body else would have minded it.

That stranger! Yes, I fancy it's he. He may need something that I can get him, and I'll go inquire."

Slipping a little wrapper over her gown, but in her bare feet, the girl noiselessly left the room and followed the sound she had heard. These led her to a small apartment which her father had used as an office and where stood the desk in whose secret drawer she had expected to find the t.i.tle deed. A small fireproof safe was in this office. It was an old-fashioned affair, with a simple, but heavy key, which the Sobrante children had played with in their infancy. She remembered her father remarking, with a laugh, that a safe was the most useless thing he possessed, for he never had anything worth putting in it; but it had been a belonging of old "Forty-niner" Marsh, a gift to his employer, and therefore accorded a place of honor.

Before this safe now bent a man whom Jessica recognized with surprise and relief.

"Why, Mr. Marsh! Is it you? What in the world are you doing here at this hour? Are you ill? Do you want something?"

"No, dearie. I'm not ill; and I'm not robbing you. And I've got all I want. That's one more look at your bonny face, G.o.d bless it!"

It was close to his shoulder now, that face he loved, and he kissed it tenderly; though with equal tenderness, if less emotion, the little maid returned his caress and clasped his neck with those strong, young arms that so yearned to protect and comfort everybody.

"That's funny. Should think you'd be tired of it, sometimes, I disappoint you so. But never mind. I'm getting handier with my new rifle every day, I think, and I mean to do yet what Samson claims I should--just beat the world. Have you finished looking at your things?"

For it was Mr. Marsh himself who had always used the safe, even after giving it away. "Can't I get you something to eat, so you can sleep better?"

"No, dearie, no, just one more good kiss--to remember. Good-by. Good-by.

It--it might have been done kinder, maybe, but--her heart is sad, I know, and her first thought is for you. She must save for you. Here, Lady, take the key. Some time you--you might want to look in that safe for yourself. Good-night."

Jessica went with him to the outer door, wondering much at this oddly-timed visit. Yet the ranchman walked erect, still carrying his lighted candle quite openly, as one who had done nothing of which to be ashamed; and when he had departed the girl returned to her own bed still more wakeful because of this queer incident.

Ten minutes later, it may have been, she heard the limping footfall of a slowly-moving horse, the echoes growing fainter continually.

Again she sat up and listened.

"That's Mr. Marsh's 'Stiffleg!' What should send him off riding now?

Oh! I do wish mother was awake, things seem so queer. Yet I don't really wish it. She has so many wakeful nights and just this one is more than I want. Now, Jessica Trent, don't be foolish any longer. Go straight to sleep or you'll be late in the morning."

Nature acted upon this good advice, and Our Lady knew no more till a pair of chubby hands were pulling her curls and Ned's voice was screeching in her ear:

"Wake up, Jessie Trent. We had our breakfast hours ago, and the 'boys'

is all out-doors, can't go to work 'ithout their captain. That's _me_, Jessie Trent, 'cause I'm the 'heir.' Samson said so."

"I's the heir, Samson said so!" echoed Luis from the floor where he was trying the fit of Jessica's new "buckskins"--the comfortable moccasin-like footgear which Pedro made for her--upon his own stubby toes.

"He, he! What's the heir Samson said? You're a stupid, Luis Garcia."

"Stupid Garcia!" laughed the little mimic, not in the least offended.

"Well, run away then, laddies, and I'll be ready in a jiffy. Poor mother. To think that I should have left her to do so much alone."

As she threw open the sash of the rear window, Jessica started back, surprised; for there, reined close to the porch, was Nero's black form, with the dark face of his master bending low over the saddle.

"Good-morning, senorita, and good fortune. Those who hid may find. I kiss your hand in farewell, and may it rule in peace till I return, I myself, the master. One month hence I come, bringing my servants with me. _Adios._ Ah! but what did you and the old sharpshooter at the office safe at midnight? _When the senora would seek her t.i.tle, seek him._ It is farewell."

CHAPTER VII

CAPTAIN JESS

Jessica drew back, repelled. Why did that man make her so unhappy whenever she saw him nowadays? What did he mean by that speech about old Ephraim Marsh and the safe? Well, he was gone, riding swiftly away and lightening her trouble with every rod of ground he put between them.

"He'll not come for a month, he said, and by that time everything will be straight. If Sobrante is ours it cannot possibly be his. That's simple. Though he might have lived here always if he'd wished. The t.i.tle paper has been mislaid. That's all. I'm sure to find it when I have time to look thoroughly, and how different things do seem by daylight. Now, to say good-morning to the 'boys,' dear fellows, and then for breakfast. I'm as hungry as on ostrich."

Though since sunrise each had been busy about his accustomed duties, neglecting nothing because of the change in command, it suited the ideas of these faithful ranchmen to report for duty to their newly appointed "captain" and to ask for orders from her. With the ready intuition of childhood she fell in with their mood at once and received them in a manner which robbed the affair of burlesque and invested it with dignity.

From a shaded corner of the porch, from behind his book, Mr. Hale watched the scene with an amus.e.m.e.nt that soon gave place to wonder and admiration. They were all profoundly in earnest. The fair young girl with folded arms and serene composure, poised at the head of the steps and the group of sunburned workmen standing respectfully before her.

By tacit consent Samson was spokesman for the company and his words had their usual nautical tinge.

"We're ready to set sail, captain, and here's wishing good luck to the v'yge! Old 'Forty-niner' hasn't showed up on deck yet, but he'll likely soon heave to, and the rest the crew'll vouch for his being a good hand in any sort o' storm we're apt to strike. We've overhauled this chart. Each of us solemnly promise to abide and obey no orders but yours, captain, or the admiral's through you. And would respectfully suggest--each man sticks to the post he's always filled, till ordered off it by his superior officer. Right, mates?"

"Ay, ay."

"How's that suit you, commodore?"

"That suits me, Samson. It will suit my mother."

"As for pay--being as we've got along without any these five months back, and Senor Top-Lofty's rode off, forgettin' to leave them arrears we mentioned, we wash the slate clean and start all over again. For five months to come we'll serve you and the admiral for mess and berth, no more, no less."

"Samson, do you mean that? Haven't you boys been paid your wages regularly, just as in my father's time?"

"Come, now, captain, that's all right. Give us the word of dismissal and let that slide. You missed your own mess this morning----"

"But that will break my mother's heart. I know! I know! I've often heard her ask him, and Antonio tell her--he said that your wages were always taken out before he brought what little money he could to her.