Overland Red Part 30

"It's this way, Miss Lacharme. That man there in the machine is wanted.

He--"

"What has that to do with my pony, please?"

"I guess you know who he is. I figured he was layin' to get away on that pony."

"You want to go back to school, pardner, and learn to figure correct,"

said Overland, his foot on the accelerator pedal of the throbbing car.

"One minus one is nothin'."

"Hold on there!" cried Tenlow, striding forward. Louise stood between the deputy and the car.

"My horse, please," she said quietly. As she spoke the car roared, jumped forward, and shot down the smooth grade of the valley road.

"Now, Mr. Tenlow, I wish you would explain this to me. And then to Uncle Walter. I sent one of our men with a horse. He was to wait for me here.

What right have you to interfere with him?"

"I guess I got as much right as you have to interfere with me," said Tenlow sullenly.

"Hold on there!" cried Collie, jumping forward.

"Collie, I'll talk with him."

"Take my horse, Miss Louise," said Collie, flushing.

"No, indeed. I'll ride Sarko."

"I'll get him," said Collie.

"No. Mr. Tenlow will get him, I am sure."

"A woman can make any deal look smooth--if she is interested," said Tenlow, turning toward the brush. He came out leading the pony.

"Thank you. Collie, you may get the mail, please."

Collie stood watching her as she rode away. Then with much deliberation he tied his own pony Apache to a clump of greasewood. He unbuckled his belt and flung it, with gun and holster, to the ground.

"Now," he said, his face blazing white with suppressed anger. "I'm going to make you eat that speech about any woman making things look smooth--_if she's interested_."

"You go on home or I'll break you in two," said Tenlow.

Collie's reply was a flail-like blow between Tenlow's eyes. The deputy staggered, gritted his teeth, and flung himself at the younger man. The fight was unequal from the beginning. Apache snorted and circled as the bushes crashed and crackled.

A few minutes later, Tenlow strode from the brush leading his pony. He wiped the blood and sweat from his face and spat viciously.

Louise, riding homeward slowly, heard a horse coming behind her. She reined Sarko and waited. Collie saw no way out of it, so he rode up, grinning from a bruised and battered face.

"Why, Collie!"

The young man grinned again. His lips were swollen and one eye was nearly closed.

Dismounting, Louise stepped to the ford. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she cried.

"Your face is terribly bruised. And your eye--" She could not help smiling at Collie's ludicrous appearance.

"I took a fall," he mumbled blandly. "Apache here is tricky at times."

Louise's gaze was direct and reproachful. "Here, let me bathe your face.

Stoop down, like that. You don't look so badly, now that the dirt is off. Surely you didn't fall on your _eye_?"

Collie tried to laugh, but the effort was not very successful.

Tenderly she bathed his bruised face. Her nearness, her touch, made him forget the pain. Suddenly he seized her hand and kissed it, leaving a stain of blood where his lips had touched. She was thrilled with a mingled feeling of pride and shame--pride in that he had fought because of her, as she knew well enough, and shame at the brutality of the affair which she understood as clearly as though she had witnessed it.

She was too honest to make herself believe she was not flattered, in a way, but she made Collie think otherwise.

He evaded her direct questioning stubbornly. Finally she asked whether Mr. Tenlow "had taken a fall," or not.

"Sure he did!" replied Collie. "A couple or three years ago--tryin' to outride Overland Red. Don't you remember?"

"Collie, you're a regular hypocrite."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you look--frightful."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're not a bit ashamed."

"Yes, ma'am, I am."

"Don't say 'Yes, ma'am' all the time. You don't seem to be ashamed. Why should you be, though. Because you were fighting?"

"No, Miss Louise. Because I got licked."

Louise mounted Sarko and rode beside Collie silently. Presently she touched his arm. "But did you?" she asked, her eyes grave and her tone conveying a subtle question above the mere letter.

"No! By thunder!" he exclaimed. "Not in a hundred years!"

"Well, get some raw meat from the cook. I'll give your explanation to Dr. and Mrs. Marshall, for you will have to be ready for the trip to-morrow. You will have to think of a better explanation for the boys."

While riding homeward, Louise dropped her glove. Collie was afoot instantly and picked it up. "Can I keep it?" he said.

The girl looked curiously at him for a moment. "No, I think not, Collie," she said gently.

Collie rode up to the corrals that afternoon whistling as blithely as he could considering his injuries. He continued to whistle as he unsaddled Apache.

At the bunk-house Brand Williams looked at him once, and bent double with silent laughter. The boys badgered him unmercifully. "Fell off a hoss!--Go tell that to the c.h.i.n.k!--Who stepped on your face, kid?--Been ridin' on your map, eh?--Where _was_ the wreck?--Who sewed up your eye?"