CHAPTER XXXII
A TALE OF A CARELESS MAN
Jacqueline ran to the door and threw it open.
"Ride down the valley!" she cried. "That's right. He's coming up, andhe'll meet you on the way. He'll be glad--to see you!"
She saw the rider swing sharply about, and the clatter of the gallopinghoofs died out up the valley; then she closed the door, dropped thelatch, and, running to the middle of the room, threw up her arms andcried out, a wild, shrill yell of triumph like the call of the oldIndian brave when he rises with the scalp of his murdered enemydripping in his hand.
The extended arms she caught back to her breast, and stood there withhead tilted back, crushing her delight closer to her heart.
And she whispered: "Pierre! Mine, mine! Pierre!"
Next she went to the steel mirror on the wall and looked long at theflushed, triumphant image. At length she started, like one awakeningfrom a happy dream, and hurriedly coiled the thick, soft tresses abouther head. Never before had she lingered so over a toilet, patting eachlock into place, twisting her head from side to side like a peacockadmiring its image.
Now she looked about hungrily for a touch of color and uttered a littlemoan of vexation when she saw nothing, till her eyes, piercing throughthe gloom of a dim corner, saw a spray of autumn leaves, long leftthere and still stained with beauty. She fastened them at the breastof her shirt, and so arrayed began to cook.
Never was there a merrier cook, not even some jolly French chef with aheart made warm with good red wine, for she sang as she worked, andwhenever she had to cross the room it was with a dancing step. Springwas in her blood, warm spring that loosens the muscles about the heartand makes the eyes of girls dim and sets men smiling for no causeexcept that they are living, and rejoicing with the whole awakeningworld.
So it was with Jacqueline. Ever and anon as she leaned over the pansand stirred the fire she raised her head and remained a momentmotionless, waiting for a sound, yearning to hear, and each time shehad to look down again with a sigh.
As it was, he took her by surprise, for he entered with the soft footof the hunted and remained an instant searching the room with a carefulglance. Not that he suspected, not that he had not relaxed his guardand his vigilance the moment he caught sight of the flicker of lightthrough the mass of great boulders, but the lifelong habit ofwatchfulness remained with him.
Even when he spoke face to face with a man, he never seemed to begiving more than half his attention, for might not some one elseapproach if he lost himself in order to listen to any one voice? Hehad covered half the length of the room with that soundless step beforeshe heard, and rose with a glad cry: "Pierre!"
Meeting that calm blue eye, she checked herself mightily.
"A hard ride?" she asked.
"Nothing much."
He took the rock nearest the fire and then raised a glance of inquiry.
"I got cold," she said, "and rolled it over."
He considered her and then the rock, not with suspicion, but as if heheld the matter in abeyance for further consideration; a hunted man anda hunter must keep an eye for little things, must carry an armed handand an armed heart even among friends. As for Jacqueline, her colorhad risen, and she leaned hurriedly over a pan in which meat was frying.
"Any results?" she asked.
"Some."
She waited, knowing that the story would come at length.
He added after a moment: "Strange how careless some people get to be."
"Yes?" she queried.
"Yes."
Another pause, during which he casually drummed his fingers on hisknee. She saw that he must receive more encouragement before he wouldtell, and she gave it, smiling to herself. Women are old in certainways of understanding in which men remain children forever.
"I suppose we're still broke, Pierre?"
"Broke? Well, not entirely. I got some results."
"Good."
"As a matter of fact, it was a pretty fair haul. Watch that meat,Jack; I think it's burning."
It was hardly beginning to cook, but she turned it obediently and hidanother slow smile. Rising, she passed behind his chair, and pretendedto busy herself with something near the wall. This was the environmentand attitude which would make him talk most freely, she knew.
"Speaking of careless men," said Pierre, "I could tell you a yarn,Jack."
She stood close behind him and made about his unconscious head agesture of caress, the overflow of an infinite tenderness.
"I'd sure like to hear it, Pierre."
"Well, it was like this: I knew a fellow who started on the range witha small stock of cattle. He wasn't a very good worker, and he didn'tunderstand cattle any too well, so he didn't prosper for quite a while.Then his affairs took a sudden turn for the better; his herd began toincrease. Nobody understood the reason, though a good many suspected,but one man fell onto the reason: our friend was simply running in afew doggies on the side, and he'd arranged a very ingenious way ofchanging the brands."
"Pierre--"
"Well?"
"What does 'ingenious' mean?"
"Why, I should say it means 'skilful, clever,' and it carries with itthe connotation of 'novel.'"
"It carries the con-conno--what's that word, Pierre?"
"I'm going to get some books for you, Jack, and we'll do a bit ofreading on the side, shall we?"
"I'd love that!"
He turned and looked up to her sharply.
He said: "Sometimes, Jack, you talk just like a girl."
"Do I? That's queer, isn't it? But go on with the story."
"He changed the brands very skilfully, and no one got the dope on himexcept this one man I mentioned; and that man kept his face shut. Hewaited.
"So it went on for a good many years. The herd of our friend grew veryrapidly. He sold just enough cattle to keep himself and his wifealive; he was bent on making one big haul, you see. So when hisdoggies got to the right age and condition for the market, he'd tradethem off, one fat doggie for two or three skinny yearlings. Butfinally he had a really big herd together, and shipped it off to themarket on a year when the price was sky-high."
"Like this year?"
"Don't interrupt me, Jack!"
From the shadow behind him she smiled again.
"They went at a corking price, and our friend cleared up a good manythousand--I won't say just how much. He sank part of it in a rubybrooch for his wife, and shoved the rest into a satchel.
"You see how careful he'd been all those years while he was piling uphis fortune? Well, he began to get careless the moment he cashed in,which was rather odd. He depended on his fighting power to keep thatmoney safe, but he forgot that while he'd been making a business ofrustling doggies and watching cattle markets, other men had been makinga business of shooting fast and straight.
"Among others there was the silent man who'd watched and waited for solong. But this silent man hove alongside while our rich friend wasbound home in a buckboard.
"'Good evening!' he called.
"The rich chap turned and heard; it all seemed all right, but he'd donea good deal of shady business in his day, and that made him suspiciousof the silent man now. So he reached for his gun and got it out justin time to be shot cleanly through the hand.
"The silent man tied up that hand and sympathized with the rich chap;then he took that satchel and divided the paper money into two bundles.One was twice the size of the other, and the silent man took thesmaller one. There was only twelve thousand dollars in it. Also, hetook the ruby brooch for a friend--and as a sort of keepsake, you know.And he delivered a short lecture to the rich man on the subject ofcarelessness and rode away. The rich man picked up his gun with hisleft hand and opened fire, but he'd never learned to shoot very wellwith that hand, so the silent man came through safe."
"That's a bully story," said Jack. "Who was the silent man?"
"I think you've seen him a few times, at that."
&
nbsp; She concealed another smile, and said in the most businesslike manner:"Chow-time, Pierre," and set out the pans on the table.
"By the way," he said easily, "I've got a little present for you, Jack."
And he took out a gold pin flaming with three great rubies.