The Award of Justice Part 8

"What do you mean by that last threat?" asked Morgan defiantly.

"I mean just this; that I know enough about you, that if I should repeat what I know to Mr. Blaisdell, you would not remain in this office one day longer."

Morgan grew pale. "You seem to know a great deal for a man that's been here no longer than you have. I suppose Lyle Maverick has been filling you up with stuff about me."

"She has never mentioned your name to me, and you will do well not to bring her name into this conversation."

"Seems to me you're wonderfully particular about old Jim Maverick's girl," Morgan sneered, "I suppose you want her for yourself, though I should think the other one--"

Morgan never finished his sentence; a blow that he afterwards said was "worse than the kick of a mule," had closed one eye.

With an oath, he made a terrible lunge toward Houston, but he knew nothing more until about fifteen minutes later, when he found himself lying on the floor, under the long desk, on the opposite side of the room, while Houston stood a few feet away, watching him.

"You dirty contemptible cur!" said Houston, "do you think because you have no sense of honor, because you are so vile you can have no idea of what purity means, that every one is like yourself? You deserve to be kicked like a dog; come out from there and fight, why don't you?"

"I don't believe I'm very anxious to, if you'd just as soon excuse me," said Morgan, who had gradually a.s.sumed a sitting posture, and was pa.s.sing his hand over his eye and jaw. Then, looking up with as much of a grin as he could muster, with his rapidly swelling face, he said, "Give it up, Houston; you're a better man than I am; I'll let you boss this ranch."

"Do you mean," asked Houston sternly, "that from this time there will be no more insinuations against ladies, and no innuendoes in their presence?"

"Yes, I agree," said Morgan, "I'll never say anything myself, and I'll smash any other fellow that does; I think," he added, reflectively, "that you've showed me how pretty well, though I'd a little rather you'd practiced on some other fellow, Haight, for instance."

"I'll attend to Haight," said Houston, helping Morgan to his feet, and smiling grimly at the figure he made.

An hour later, Houston presented himself at the sorting rooms, where Haight met him with many smiles, offering to show him through the rooms.

"Another time will do, Mr. Haight," said Houston coldly, "I have business with yourself this morning."

"Oh, yes," said Haight, as if the thought had just occurred to him, "that unfortunate business at the table this morning; Mr. Houston, I am more than sorry for what happened, and a.s.sure you, that, so far as I am concerned, it shall never occur again."

"It will be much better for your interests that it should not,"

replied Houston; "I have not been in the habit of hearing such insinuations against ladies, or such language in their presence; and there is something more I have to say to you," he continued, as he saw Haight was trying to speak; "you were bookkeeper for the company, for a while, were you not?"

"Certainly," replied Haight in a tone of surprise, "I kept the books for a few months last year."

"So I have been informed since coming here, and I wish to state that the other day I had occasion to refer to some of the old books kept by you, and I very soon found evidences of a few shady transactions on your part that I think you would not care to have come to the knowledge of the company."

"You must be mistaken, Mr. Houston," said Haight, trying to preserve a calm exterior, but paling visibly; "it must have been some of Mr.

Johnson's work you found."

"No, Mr. Haight," said Houston firmly, "it was your own work, in your own writing, and very bunglingly done at that; a man would not need to be an expert accountant,--and that is what I am,--to detect the fraud."

"Mr. Houston," interrupted Haight, in trembling tones, "everything here shall be as you wish, and I will help you too,--I can be of use to you,--if you will just say nothing. There were certain circ.u.mstances that I cannot now explain, that justified the transactions you allude to; and as I have told you, I regret what occurred this morning, and it shall not be repeated. But really, Mr. Houston," he continued, "I had no idea that my teasing Morgan this morning would have such an effect; you see, what I was joking about was really to Miss Maverick's credit; it seems that a few weeks ago, he was rather smitten with her and attempted to be what she thought was a little too familiar, and she gave him a black eye, and--"

"He has another one now," said Houston, rising abruptly.

"Indeed!" exclaimed Haight.

"Yes, and there will be more black eyes if there are any more insinuations of that character," and Houston returned to the office, leaving behind him a bitter enemy, but one whose enmity would be concealed by a cloak of friendship.

Meanwhile, while Houston was pursuing his chivalric course, Miss Gladden, sitting by the fire in the deserted breakfast room, was planning in what way and by what means she could best help her young friend in whom she felt such an interest. The scene at the table had given her a new insight into Lyle's surroundings; the rudeness and insult to which the beautiful girl was likely to be subjected in such a home, the possible dangers to which she might also be exposed, and she was more than ever determined to win the confidence of the reserved, proud-spirited girl.

In the midst of her reflections, Lyle entered the room, and Miss Gladden saw there were still traces of trouble in her face.

Unconscious of the friends who were beginning to care for her welfare, Lyle had felt that morning as though she could endure her life there no longer. She had felt by a sort of instinct that she was in some way connected with the talk at the table, and she knew that both Morgan and Haight would not hesitate to injure her by their insinuations, in retaliation for the manner in which she had met their advances.

Thirsting for human sympathy, her heart quickly responded to Miss Gladden's words, as she told Lyle of her interest in her, her sympathy for her, and her desire to help her, and in reply to one or two questions, she spoke freely of the trials she had suffered, inevitably connected with a life such as hers, and touched by the kindness of her new-found friend, Lyle continued:

"The insults and insinuations of those men, and others like them, are bad enough, but I expect nothing else from such as they, but when one receives insult from the source where one would expect protection,--that is hardest of all," and with flushed cheeks and quivering lips, Lyle related the scene with her father, and his words to her, while Miss Gladden looked inexpressibly shocked.

"I was almost desperate this morning," she said in conclusion, "I felt as though I could not live such a life any longer; I must go somewhere, anywhere, to get away from it. Mother says that nothing of that kind shall ever happen again, that father is in her power in some way, and she will not let him abuse me; but it is this whole wretched life that I despise, if I could only be freed from that!"

"I hope, dear, your life will not always be like this," said Miss Gladden, "it shall not be if it is in my power to prevent it; perhaps I may be able to brighten it in some way."

"You have already," said Lyle gratefully, "I shall be happy now, as long as you are here; after you are gone away,--" she shuddered slightly, then added, "who knows what may happen before that time?"

CHAPTER XII.

A few hours later, a wild, mountain storm was raging outside, the wind roaring down the canyon from the icy fields above, driving the fast falling snow in every direction, with blinding fury.

Within doors, however, a happy group were seated around the fire, oblivious of the storm outside, or with just enough consciousness of its fury to add to the enjoyment of the warmth and comfort inside.

Miss Gladden was, as usual, becomingly gowned in a house dress of rich, warm color, while she had persuaded Lyle to put on a dark blue dress of her own, which, with a very little change, fitted as though originally intended for her, and also to dress her beautiful, golden hair high on her head, thus producing a change in her appearance which astonished even Miss Gladden herself.

The perfectly fitting gown revealed the outlines of her well developed and finely proportioned form; its color seemed to enhance the delicacy of her face and the brilliancy of her eyes, while the graceful coiffure showed to good advantage the beautifully shaped head, and added to her dignity. She seemed suddenly to have been transformed from shy, reserved girlhood, to graceful, royal womanhood.

As she, with Miss Gladden, entered the room where Rutherford awaited them, that young gentleman started suddenly, and turning, gazed at the regal little beauty, with her golden coronet, in undisguised admiration, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of both ladies.

"Great Caesar!" he exclaimed, "what metamorphosis is this? Excuse me, Miss Maverick, I really couldn't help it; I thought you were a sort of little girl, you know, and you are,--begging your pardon,--a very beautiful young lady."

Both ladies laughed merrily, and Miss Gladden secretly resolved that Lyle, in the future, should always be dressed becomingly, if her influence could accomplish anything in that direction.

The afternoon pa.s.sed very pleasantly in looking over the beautiful views which Rutherford had collected since he left his distant, eastern home. The pictures taken among the mountains had developed finely, and they all grew enthusiastic over them. Then there were pictures of his friends, in groups and singly, and in laughable combinations and positions; among them, some which Rutherford had taken of his friend, Tom Durston, and his family, at the ranch where he had stopped over night on his way out. There was one of Tom himself, in a futile attempt to milk a refractory cow, where he lay sprawling ingloriously upon the ground, the milk bucket pouring its foaming contents over him, the excited cow performing a war dance, while two others, more peaceably inclined, looked on in mild-eyed astonishment: chickens were flying in every direction, with outstretched necks and wings, while in the background, a company of geese were hissing their disapproval of the scene.

The girls laughed until the tears were in their eyes. "How did you ever get such a picture? and so perfect!" they asked.

"Oh, I just happened to," he answered, "I was out that morning, with my kodak all ready, looking for a subject, and I saw Tom milking, and thought it would be fun to take a picture of him to send back to the cla.s.s-boys, you know; I held the kodak up and was just ready--when that old cow sent him flying quicker than lightning, and I caught the picture all right. I'm going to mail him one copy."

There was a picture of Tom's baby, taking his bath, his mouth wide open and his eyes shut, crying l.u.s.tily for his mother, who had deserted him to run to Tom's a.s.sistance. Then there were pictures of Rutherford's home and friends, among them, that of a brother, older than himself, which particularly attracted Lyle's attention; she looked at it long and earnestly. He was sitting in an easy att.i.tude, smoking a cigar, and looking at the face of a beautiful, dark-eyed girl, of about her own age, which appeared above him, encircled by the light clouds of smoke,--just the face and no more. Rutherford stated that it was his brother and their only sister, and explained the process by which it was taken, but the picture remained in Lyle's memory for many a day.

After a while, Houston, returning a little early on account of the storm, joined them, and the four friends spent the most enjoyable evening which they had yet known together, notwithstanding the storm.

It had been an eventful day. To Lyle, and one or two of the others, it was the beginning of a new life, though they did not then realize it; the first, faint flush that heralds the coming of the sun to brighten the new day, but which is so subtle and silent, that few are aware of its presence.

Houston, on his return to the house at noon, had given, in answer to Rutherford's eager inquiries, an account of the "skirmish" as he called it. Rutherford was so proud of his friend, and of the victory he had won, that at the first opportunity, he told the story to Miss Gladden, before Houston had even returned to the office. Miss Gladden was enthusiastic in her admiration of the course he had taken, so different from many of the young men she had known in wealthy, aristocratic circles, in thus defending a poor, friendless girl, subject to insult because she had the misfortune, under such circ.u.mstances, to be beautiful; and obeying the impulses of her n.o.ble-hearted, high-spirited nature, she went to Houston, as she saw him standing alone a few minutes after dinner, and extending her hand, with a bright smile, said:

"Sir Knight, I want to thank you, in Lyle's name and my own, for the chivalric course you have taken this morning."