Ranching for Sylvia Part 51

"Edgar told me I needn't be afraid of you," she said.

George smiled.

"I can understand his confidence, though it had a better foundation than my good-nature. I wonder whether I might venture to say that he has shown remarkably good sense?"

"I'm glad you don't think he has been very foolish," replied the girl, and it was obvious to George that she understood the situation.

He made her a little grave bow.

"What I've said, I'm ready to stick to. I'm a friend of Edgar's, and that carried an obligation."

"Yes," she a.s.sented, "but it was because you are a friend of his and, in a way, represent his people in England, that I was a little uneasy."

Her speech implied a good deal and George admired her candor.

"Well," he said, "so far as I am concerned, you must never feel anything of the kind again. But I think you should have known it was quite unnecessary."

She gave him a grateful glance and soon afterward her father came in.

"Guess we'll take a smoke in the back office," he said to George.

George followed him, and thought he understood why he was led into the little untidy room strewn with packets of goods, though his host had a fine commodious house. Taunton would not attempt to dissociate himself from his profession; he meant to be taken for what he was, but he knew his value. He was a gaunt, elderly man: as far as his general appearance went, a typical inhabitant of a remote and half-developed western town, though there was a hint of authority in his face. Giving George an excellent cigar, he pointed to a chair.

"Now," he began, "we must have a talk. When your partner first came hanging round my store, buying things he didn't want, I was kind of short with him. Helen helps me now and then with the books, and he seemed to know when she came in."

"I noticed he came home in a rather bad temper once or twice," George said with a laugh. "I used to wonder, when he produced sardine cans at supper, but after a while I began to understand."

"Well," continued Taunton, "I didn't intend to have any blamed Percy trying to turn my girl's head, until I knew what he meant. I'd n.o.body to talk it over with--I lost her mother long ago--so I kind of froze him out, until one day he came dawdling in and asked if he might take Helen to Jim Haxton's dance.

"'Does she know you have come to me about it?' I said.

"'Can't say,' he told me coolly, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. 'I haven't mentioned the matter yet; I thought I'd ask you first.'

"'S'pose I object?' I said.

"'Then,' he allowed quite tranquil, 'the thing will have to be considered. There's not the slightest reason why you should object.'

"I'd a notion I could agree with him--I liked the way he talked--and I told him Helen could go, but the next time he called he was to walk right into the office instead of hanging round the counter. I asked him what he'd done with all the canned truck he'd bought, and he said he was inclined to think his partner had eaten most of it. Since then he's been over pretty often, and I figured it was time I gave you a hint."

"Thanks," responded George. "He was, in a way, placed in my hands, but I've no real control over him."

"That's so; he's of age. What I felt was this--I've nothing against West, but my girl's good enough for anybody, and I can't have his people in England looking down on her and making trouble. If they're not satisfied, they had better call him back right now. There's to be no high-toned condescension in this matter."

"I don't think you need be afraid of that," said George. "It would be altogether uncalled for. It's very likely that I shall be consulted, and I'll have pleasure in telling his people that I consider him a lucky man."

"There's another point--has West any means?"

"I believe about five thousand dollars could be raised to put him on a farm."

Taunton nodded.

"It's not very much, but I don't know that I'm sorry. I'll see they're fixed right; whatever West gets I'll beat. My girl shan't be indebted to her husband's folks. But there's not a word to be said about this yet. West must wait another year before we decide on anything."

George thought the storekeeper's att.i.tude could not be found fault with, and when he drove home through the soft dusk of the summer night, he was glad to feel that there was no need for anxiety about the choice Edgar had made.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE LEADING WITNESS

Three or four weeks pa.s.sed quietly without any news from Flett until one evening when Edgar sat talking to Miss Taunton in the office of her father's store at Sage b.u.t.te. The little, dusty room was unpleasantly hot and filled with the smell of resinous pine boards; there was a drawl of voices and an occasional patter of footsteps outside the door; and a big book, which seemed to have no claim on her attention, lay open on the table in front of the girl.

She was listening to Edgar with a smile in her eyes, and looking, so he thought, remarkably attractive in her light summer dress which left her pretty, round arms uncovered to the elbow and displayed the polished whiteness of her neck. He was expressing his approval of the current fashions, which he said were rational and particularly becoming to people with skins like ivory. Indeed, he was so engrossed in his subject that he did not hear footsteps approaching until his companion flashed a warning glance at him; and he swung round with some annoyance as the door opened.

"I guessed I would find you here," said the station-agent, looking in with an indulgent smile.

"You're a thoughtful man," retorted Edgar. "You may as well tell me what you want."

"I've a wire from Flett, sent at Hatfield, down the line."

"What can he be doing there?" Edgar exclaimed; and Miss Taunton showed her interest.

"He was coming through on the train. Wanted Mr. Lansing to meet him at the station, if he was in town. Hadn't you better go along?"

"I suppose so," said Edgar resignedly, glancing at his watch. "It looks as if your men had taken their time. Flett should be here in about a quarter of an hour now."

"Operator had train orders to get through; we have two freights side-tracked," the agent explained. "Don't be late; she's coming along on time."

He hurried out, and a few minutes later Edgar crossed the street and strolled along the low wooden platform, upon which a smart constable was waiting. A long trail of smoke, drawing rapidly nearer, streaked the gray and ochre of the level plain, and presently the big engine and dusty cars rolled into the station amid the hoa.r.s.e tolling of the bell.

As they ran slowly past him, Edgar saw a police trooper leaning out from a vestibule, and when the train stopped the constable on the platform hurried toward the car. A hum of excited voices broke out and Edgar had some difficulty in pushing through the growing crowd to reach the steps. A constable, who had hard work to keep the others back, let him pa.s.s, and he found Flett standing on the platform above, looking rather jaded, with a pistol loose in his holster.

"Isn't Mr. Lansing here?" Flett asked eagerly, and then turned to the trooper. "Keep those fellows off!"

"No," answered Edgar; "he hasn't come into town. But what's the cause of this commotion? Have you got your men?"

"Three of them," said Flett, with a look of pride. "I expect we'll get the fourth. But come in a minute, out of the noise."

The car was besieged. Curious men were clambering up the side of it, trying to peer in through the windows; others disputed angrily with the trooper who drove them off the steps. Eager questions were shouted and sc.r.a.ps of random information given, and groups of people were excitedly running across the street to the station. It was, however, a little quieter in the vestibule when Flett had banged the door. He next opened the inner door that led to the smoking compartment of the Colonist car. In spite of its roominess, it was almost insufferably hot and very dirty; the sunlight struck in through the windows; sand and fine cinders lay thick upon the floor. A pile of old blue blankets lay, neatly folded, on one of the wooden seats, and on those adjoining sat three men. Two wore brown duck overalls, gray shirts, and big soft hats; one was dressed in threadbare cloth; but there was nothing that particularly suggested the criminal in any of their sunburned faces.

They looked hot and weary with the journey, and though their expression was perhaps a little hard, they looked like harvest hands traveling in search of work. One, who was quietly smoking, took his pipe from his mouth and spoke to Flett.

"Can't you get us some ice?" he asked. "The water in the tank isn't fit to drink."

"They haven't any here. You'll have to wait until we get to the junction," Flett told him, and drew Edgar back into the vestibule.

"We're taking them right along to Regina," he explained. "I'm sorry I couldn't see Mr. Lansing, but I'll ride over as soon as I'm sent back.

If he's likely to be away, he'd better send word to the station."