The Girl of the Golden West Part 40

The rafters of The Polka shook to a storm of cheering, and there is no telling when the men would have ceased had not Nick interfered at that moment by yelling out:

"Boys, boys, here she is!"

"Here comes the Girl!" came simultaneously from Happy Halliday, who had got a glimpse of her coming down the trail.

None the worse for his defeat and fall, Trinidad sprang to his feet; while Sonora made a dash for a seat. They had not been placed; whereupon he cried out excitedly:

"The seats, boys, where's the seats?"

For the few minutes that preceded the Girl's entrance into the room no men were ever known to work more rapidly or more harmoniously. They fairly flew in and out of the room, now bringing in the great whittled-up, weather-beaten benches and placing them in school-room fashion, and then rolling in boxes and casks which served as a ground-hold for the planks which were stretched across them for desks.

It was in the midst of these pilgrimages that Trinidad rushed over to Nick to ask whether he did not think to-day a good time to put the question to the Girl.

Nick's eyes twinkled up with merriment; nevertheless, his face took on a dubious look when presently he answered:

"I wouldn't rush her, Trin--you've got plenty of time . . ." And when he proceeded to put up the blackboard he almost ran into Sonora, who stood by the teacher's desk getting into his frock coat.

"Hurry up, boys, hurry up!" urged Trinidad, though he himself smilingly looked on.

A moment later the Girl, carrying a small book of poems, walked quietly into their midst. She was paler and not as buoyant as usual, but she managed to appear cheerful when she said:

"h.e.l.lo, boys!"

The men were all smiles and returned her greeting with:

"h.e.l.lo, Girl!"

Then followed the presentation of their offerings--mere trifles, to be sure, but given out of the fulness of their hearts. Sonora led with a bunch of berries, which was followed by Trinidad with an orange.

"From 'Frisco," he said simply, watching the effect of his words with pride.

A bunch of berries was also Happy's contribution, which he made with a stiff little bow and the one word:

"Regards."

Meantime Nick, faithful friend that he was, went down on his knees and began to remove the Girl's moccasins. The knowledge of his proximity encouraged the Girl to glance about her to see if she could detect any signs on the men's faces which would prove that they suspected the real truth concerning her absence. Needless to say adoration and love was all that she saw; nevertheless, she felt ill-at-ease and, unconsciously, repeated:

"h.e.l.lo, boys!" And then added, a little more bravely: "How's everythin'?"

"Bully!" spoke up Handsome Charlie, who was posing for her benefit, as was his wont, beside one of the desks.

"Say, we missed you," acknowledged Sonora with a world of tenderness in his voice. "Never knew you to desert The Polka for a whole week before."

"No, I--I . . ." stammered guiltily, and with their little gifts turned abruptly towards her desk lest she should meet their gaze.

"Academy's opened," suddenly announced Happy, "and--"

"Yes, I see it is," quickly answered the Girl, brushing away a tear that persisted in clinging to her eyelids; slowly, now, she drew off her gloves and laid them on the desk.

"I guess I'm kind o' nervous to-day, boys," she began.

"No wonder," observed Sonora. "Road agent's been in camp an' we missed a hangin'. I can't git over that."

All a-quiver and not daring to meet the men's gaze, much less to discuss the road agent with them, the Girl endeavoured to hide her confusion by asking Nick to help her off with her cape. Turning presently she said in a strained voice:

"Well, come on, boys--come, now!"

Immediately the boys fell in line for the opening exercises, which consisted of an examination by the Girl of their general appearance.

"Let me see your hands," she said to the man nearest to her; a glance was sufficient, and he was expelled from her presence. "Let me see yours, Sonora," she commanded.

Holding his hands behind his back the man addressed moved towards her slowly, for he was conscious of the grime that was on them. Before he had spoken his apology she ordered him none too gently to go and wash them, ending with an emphatic:

"Git!"

"Yes'm," was his meek answer, though he called back as he disappeared: "Been blackenin' my boots."

The Girl took up the word quickly.

"Boots! Yes, an' look at them boots!" And as each man came up to her, "An' them boots! an' them boots! Get in there the whole lot o' you an'

be sure that you leave your whisky behind."

When all had left the room save Nick, who stood with her cape on his arm near the desk she suddenly became conscious that she still had her hood on, and at once began to remove it--a proceeding which brought out clearly the extraordinary pallor of her face which, generally, had a bright, healthy colouring. Now she beckoned to Nick to draw near. No need for her to speak, for he had caught the questioning look in her eyes, and it told him plainer than any words that she was anxious to hear of her lover. He was about to tell her the little he knew when with lips that trembled she finally whispered:

"Have you heard anythin'? Do you think he got through safe?"

Nick nodded in the affirmative.

"I saw 'im off, you know," she went on in the same low voice; then, before Nick could speak, she concluded anxiously: "But s'pose he don't git through?"

"Oh, he'll git through sure! We'll hear he's out of this country pretty quick," consoled the little barkeeper just as Rance, unperceived by them, quietly entered the room and went over to a chair by the stove.

XVI.

No man had more of a dread of the obvious than the Sheriff. His position, he felt, was decidedly an unpleasant one. Nevertheless, in the silence that followed the Girl's discovery of his presence, he struggled to appear his old self. He was by no means unconscious of the fact that he had omitted his usual cordial greeting to her, and he felt that she must be scrutinising him, feature by feature. When, therefore, he shot a covert glance at her, it was with surprise that he saw an appealing look in her eyes.

"Oh, Jack, I want to thank you--" she began, but stopped quickly, deterred by the hard expression that instantly spread itself over the Sheriff's face. Resentment, all the more bitter because he believed it to be groundless, followed hard on the heels of her words which he thought to be inspired solely by a delicate tactfulness.

"Oh, don't thank me that he got away," he said icily. "It was the three aces and the pair you held--"

This was the Girl's opportunity; she seized it.

"About the three aces, I want to say that--"

It was Rance's turn to interrupt, which he did brutally.