Nancy MacIntyre Part 9

7

"You don't blame me, do you, Billy, If I did go in and stay, Warming by your stove and fire, Just to hear what he would say?

I will try to tell his story As he told it, if I can, Putting in what I remember Of his 'interesting plan.'

'Now, then, gal, I heard you calling As you stood there in the dark, On a fellow, named Bill Truly, But you shot 'way off the mark.

Billy ain't here now, and further, He won't be here, you can bet; Anyhow, that's what he told me Two weeks past, when we last met.

8

"'When your folks all skipped the country I decided I'd move, too; Thought perhaps you'd get in trouble And I'd try to help you through; So I got beyond the posse, Rode like fire upon your track, Found your dad, and _you_ not with him, So I turned and came right back.

Riding home along the Solomon,-- For the truth I pledge my word-- I met Billy with his horses Three miles east of Mingo's Ford.

Stopped and shook my hand and told me He was so far on his way To a ranch 'way up in Utah, Where he'd made his plans to stay.

9

"'Said he wanted to be friendly, So the things that he had left, If I cherished no hard feelings, I could look on as his gift.

"If you come across Miss Nancy You can say to her for me, That I've got another sweetheart, And that she is wholly free."

Billy'd never do to tie to-- He's too fickle, gal, for you-- So I just propose to offer You a man that will stay true.

I have worked it out, Miss Nancy-- It's the problem of my life; I have planned that you shall stay here As my own dear little wife.'

10

"'Look here, Johnson! You're a liar, When you say he's set me free!

When you met him there at Mingo's He had gone to hunt for me.

Don't you dare to touch me, scoundrel!

Don't you dare to slur his name!

You're a cur--a thief--Jim Johnson!

You have jumped my sweetheart's claim.

Don't you dare to venture near me!

Or you'll wish you'd not begun.

All your schemes and double dealings, All your hatched-up plans are done.

You start now and pack your fixin's!

Don't you leave the smallest bit!

Every filthy thing you own here, Pack it up--you dog, and _git!_'

11

"He was standing there uncertain, And I felt to clinch his throat; But, instead, I shot--to scare him-- All the b.u.t.tons off his coat.

Then I pumped two in the corner, Where he'd sunk down on his knees-- Slit his ear and cut his collar, Never listening to his pleas.

Told him if he didn't mosey I would plant his carca.s.s whole, In a grave I'd dig that evening On the eighty he had stole.

Then he promised, but I chased him 'Way across the old Saline, And so far as I have knowledge, He has never since been seen.

12

"When I got back here 'fore morning, Thought of having Kelly's mare, So I rode her to his stable And I left her standing there.

For I knew that you'd consider Twas the proper thing to do, If you came back here and found me Holding down your claim for you.

But I felt right sorry, Billy, When I looked around next day, In the box there in the corner Where the pans and dishes lay; For in fixing for my breakfast, My! the crockery was slim!

More than half of it was busted By the bullets fired at Jim:

[Ill.u.s.tration: "But, instead, I shot, to scare him, All the b.u.t.tons off his coat."]

13

"I forgot to tell you, Billy, That for thirteen months or more, You're the only man that's ever Crossed the threshold of that door.

I have stayed alone and waited, Full of faith that you would come, So that I--might go to daddie, And that you'd--have back your home.

Though perhaps I've sometimes suffered From the cold and from the heat, And I've gone for days together, Here, without a bite to eat, 'Twasn't hunger of the body That I craved to satisfy, I was starved for--you--and daddie, As the weary weeks trailed by.

14

"How I tried to think and reason Why the fire from one caress Turned my burning, yearning spirit To a cinder of distress.

Some one told me, I remember, Long ago when I was small, G.o.d made every star up yonder, Everything--the world and all.

Then I thought that in His workshop, Up there in the heavens above, He had made that curious hunger Of the heart that we call love.

P'r'aps my troubles and the waiting Stirred me to this queer-like whim; But I couldn't help it, Billy, I just had to talk to Him.

15

"In the night, when G.o.d wa'n't busy And could hear the slightest sound, I would venture from my hiding To the top of North Pole Mound.

I was sure He'd never let His Angels come out this-a-way, But would use the wind to carry, Prayers out here, that people pray.

So I'd hold my hands, and stopping Gusts that tried to struggle free, Tell them this here simple message They must take to you from me: 'Please, dear G.o.d, won't you tell Billy That I'm holding down his claim?

He don't come 'cause he's in trouble.

Thank you, G.o.d. He ain't to blame.'"

16

Long before her honest story Faltered to its hallowed close, Pushing back his untouched supper, Tremblingly her guest arose.

Vain for him to curb emotion, Or to stammer out his praise Through a storm of rude devotion, Cast in halting human phrase.

Vain for him to frame a message Never meant for words to tell, At the joy of reaching heaven By that trail that led through h.e.l.l.

But his fervent benediction Was a pa.s.sionate embrace, And the Amen love's own ending, As he kissed her fearless face.