Valley of Wild Horses Part 50

Pan drew Blinky aside in the gloom. "She hasn't begun to think yet.

Reckon you'd better stay away from her. Let her come back to the wagon."

"Pard, sh.o.r.e she took our kidnappin' her all right," whispered Blinky, hopefully.

"Blink, I'll bet a million she'll be glad--after it all comes out,"

responded Pan.

Presently Louise interrupted their whispered colloquy. "Help me up.

I'm sick--and weak."

They lifted her back into the wagon and covered her. In the pale starlight her eyes looked unnaturally big and black.

"No use--to lie," she said drowsily, her head rolling. "I'm glad to leave--Marco.... Take me anywhere."

Then her eyes closed. Again Pan drew Blinky away into the gloom.

"It's the way I figured," whispered Pan swiftly. "She'll never remember what happened."

"Thank Gawd fer thet," breathed Blinky.

They found the campfire deserted except for Gus and Pan's father.

Evidently Pan's advent interrupted a story that had been most exciting to Gus.

"Son, I--I was just tellin' Gus all I know about what come off yesterday," explained Smith, frankly, though with some haste. "But there are some points I'd sure like cleared up for myself."

Pan had expected this, and had fortified himself against the inevitable.

"Well, get it over then once and for all," he replied, not too civilly.

"You come d.a.m.n near b.u.t.tin' right into the weddin'!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Smith, with a sense of what dramatic possibility had just been missed.

Pan, whose back had been turned to the campfire light, suddenly whirled as if on a pivot.

"What?" he cried. Then there seemed to be a cessation of all his faculties.

"Why, son, you needn't jump out of your boots," returned the father, somewhat offended. "Lucy was married to Hardman in the stage office just before you got there. Fact was, she'd just walked out to get in the stage when you came.... Now, I was only sayin' how funny it'd been if you had got there sooner."

"Who--told--you--that?"

"Lucy told me. An' she said tonight she didn't believe you knew,"

returned his father.

There was a blank silence. Pan slowly turned away from the light.

"No. I had an idea--she'd been married--days," replied Pan in queer strangled voice.

"You should have asked some questions," said Smith bluntly. "It was a d.a.m.n unfortunate affair, but it mustn't be made worse for Lucy than it actually was.... She was d.i.c.k Hardman's wife for less than five minutes before you arrived."

Without another word Pan stalked away into the darkness. He heard his father say: "Bet that's what ailed him--the darned idiot!"

Pan gained the pasture fence under the dark trees, and he grasped it tightly as if his hold on life had been shaken. The shock of incredulous amaze pa.s.sed away, leaving him in the grip of joy and grat.i.tude and remorse. How vastly different was this vigil under the stars!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was Pan who routed out the campers next morning when the first rose of dawn flushed the clear-cut horizon line.

He had the firewood collected, and the saddle horses in for their grain before Blinky presented himself. Wild eyed, indeed, was the cowboy.

"Pard," he whispered, huskily, dragging Pan aside some paces, "the cyclone's busted."

"Yes?" queried Pan in both mirth and concern.

"I was pullin' on my boots when Louise pokes her head above the wagon an' says: 'Hey, you bow-legged gurl s.n.a.t.c.her, where's my clothes?'

"'What clothes?' I answers. An' she snaps out, 'Mine. Didn't you fetch my clothes?'

"'Louie,' I says, 'we sh.o.r.e forgot them an' they burned up with all the rest of the Yellow Mine. An' if you want to know, my dear, I'm darn glad of it.'

"Then, Pan, she began to cuss me, an' I jumps up mad, but right dignified an' says, 'Mrs. Somers, I'll require you to stop usin'

profanity.'

"'_Mrs. Somers_!' she whispers, her eyes poppin'. 'Are you crazy?'

An' I told her I sh.o.r.e wasn't crazy an' I sh.o.r.e was sober. An' thet my name wasn't Moran, but Somers.

"She gave a gasp an' fell back in the wagon. An' you bet I run fer you. Now, pard, for Gawd's sake, what'll I do?" finished Blinky with a groan.

"Cowboy, you've done n.o.ble," replied Pan in great satisfaction.

"Wha-at!--Say, Pan, you look queer this mawnin'. Sort of shiny eyed an' light-footed. You don't look drunk or loco. So what ails you?"

"Blink, I'm as crazy as you," responded Pan, almost hugging his friend.

"But don't worry another minute. I swear I can fix it up with Louise.

I swear I can fix _anything_."

With that, Pan strode across the dew-wet gra.s.s to the trees under which stood Blinky's wagon. There was no sign of the girl. Pan breasted the wagon side to look down. She was there, wide-eyed, with arms under her head, staring at the colored leaves.

"Morning, Louie, how are you?" he began cheerfully, smiling down upon her.

"I don't know," she replied.

"Well, you look better, that's sure."

"Pan, am I that cowboy's wife?" she queried, gravely.

"Yes," he replied, just as gravely.