XVI.
No man had more of a dread of the obvious than the Sheriff. Hisposition, he felt, was decidedly an unpleasant one. Nevertheless, in thesilence that followed the Girl's discovery of his presence, he struggledto appear his old self. He was by no means unconscious of the fact thathe had omitted his usual cordial greeting to her, and he felt that shemust be scrutinising him, feature by feature. When, therefore, he shot acovert glance at her, it was with surprise that he saw an appealing lookin her eyes.
"Oh, Jack, I want to thank you--" she began, but stopped quickly,deterred by the hard expression that instantly spread itself over theSheriff's face. Resentment, all the more bitter because he believed itto be groundless, followed hard on the heels of her words which hethought to be inspired solely by a delicate tactfulness.
"Oh, don't thank me that he got away," he said icily. "It was the threeaces 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.
"He'd better keep out of my country, that's all."
"Yes, yes."
To the Girl, any reference to her lover was a stab. Her face was palewith her terrible anxiety; notwithstanding, the contrast of her pallidcheeks and masses of golden hair gave her a beauty which Rance, as hemet her eyes, found so extraordinarily tempting that he experienced arenewed fury at his utter helplessness. At the point, however, when itwould seem from his attitude that all his self-control was about toleave him, the Girl picked up the bell on the desk and rang itvigorously.
Began then the long procession of miners walking around the room beforetaking their seats on the benches. At their head was Happy Halliday, whocarried in his hands a number of slates, the one on the top having alarge sponge attached. These were all more or less in bad condition,some having no frames, while others were mere slits of slate, but allhad slate-pencils fastened to them by strings.
"Come along, boys, get your slates!" sang out Happy as he left the lineand let the others file past him.
"Whoop!" vociferated Trinidad in a burst of enthusiasm.
"Trin, you're out o' step there!" reprimanded the teacher a littlesharply; and then addressing Happy she ordered him to take his placeonce more in the line.
In a little while they were all seated, and now, at last, it seemed tothe barkeeper as if the air of the room had been freed of its tension.No longer did he experience a sense of alertness, a feeling thatsomething out of the ordinary was going to happen, and it was withimmense relief that he heard the Girl take up her duties and ask:
"What books were left from last year?"
At first no one was able to give a scrap of information on thisimportant matter; maybe it was because all lips were too dry to open; inthe end, however, when the silence was becoming embarrassing, Happymoistened his lips with his tongue, and answered:
"Why, we scared up jest a whole book left. The name of it is--is--is--"The effort was beyond his mental powers and he came to a helpless pause.
Swelling with importance, and drawing forth the volume in question fromhis pocket, Sonora stood up and finished:
"--is 'Old Joe Miller's Jokes.'"
"That will do nicely," declared the Girl and seated herself on thepine-decorated box.
"Now, boys," continued Sonora, ever the most considerate of pupils,"before we begin I propose no drawin' of weppings, drinkin' or swearin'in school hours. The conduct of certain members wore on teacher lastterm. I don't want to mention no names, but I want Handsome an' Happy tohear what I'm sayin'." And after a sweeping glance at his mates, who,already, had begun to disport themselves and jeer at the unfortunatepair, he wound up with: "Is that straight?"
"You bet it is!" yelled the others in chorus; whereupon Sonora droppedinto his seat.
In time order was restored and now the Girl, looking at Rance out of herbig, frightened, blue eyes, observed:
"Rance, last year you led off with an openin' address, an'--"
"Yes, yes, go on Sheriff!" cried the boys, hailing her suggestion withdelight.
Nevertheless, the Sheriff hesitated, seeing which, Trinidad contributed:"Let 'er go, Jack!"
At length, fixing a look upon the Girl, Rance rose and saidsignificantly:
"I pass."
"Oh, then, Sonora," suggested the Girl, covering up her embarrassment asbest she could, "won't you make a speech?"
"Me--speak?" exploded Sonora; and again; "Me--speak? Oh, the devil!"
"Sh-sh!" came warningly from several of the boys.
"Why, I didn't mean that, o' course," apologised Sonora, colouring, andincidentally expectorating on Bucking Billy's boots. But to his infinitesorrow no protest worthy of the word was forthcoming from the apparentlyinsensible Bucking Billy.
"Go on! Go on!" urged the school.
Sonora coughed behind his hand; then he began his address.
"Gents, I look on this place as something more 'n a place to sit aroundan' spit on--the stove. I claim that there's culture in the air o'Californay an' we're here to buck up again it an' hook on."
"Hear! Hear! Hear!" voiced the men together, while their fists came downheavily upon the improvised desks before them.
"With these remarks," concluded Sonora, "I set." And suiting the actionto the word he plumped himself down heavily upon the bench, but only torise again quickly with a cry of pain and strike Trinidad a fierce blow,who, he rightly suspected, was responsible for the pin that had found alodging-place in the seat of his trousers.
At that not even the Girl's remonstrances prevented the boys, who hadbeen silent as mice all the time that the instrument of torture wasbeing adjusted, from giving vent to roars of laughter; and for a momentthings in the school-room were decidedly boisterous.
"Sit down, boys, sit down!" ordered the Girl again and again; but it wassome moments before she could get the school under control. When,finally, the skylarking had ceased, the Girl said in a voice which,despite its strange weariness, was music to their ears:
"Once more we meet together. There's ben a lot happened o' late that haslearned me that p'r'aps I don't know as much as I tho't I did, an' Ican't teach you much more. But if you're willin' to take me for what Iam--jest a woman who wants things better, who wants everybody all theyought to be, why I'm willin' to rise with you an' help reach out--" Shestopped abruptly, for Handsome was waving his hand excitedly at her, andasked a trifle impatiently: "What is it, Handsome?"
Handsome rose and hurriedly went over to her.
"Whisky, teacher, whisky! I want it so bad--"
The school rose to its feet as one man.
"Teacher! Teacher!" came tumultuously from all, their hands wavingfrantically in the air. And then without waiting for permission to speakthe cry went up: "Whisky! Whisky!"
"No, no whisky," she denied them flatly.
Gradually the commotion subsided, for all knew that she meant what shesaid, at least for the moment.
"An' now jest a few words more on the subject o' not settin' judgment onthe errin'--a subject near my heart."
This remark of the Girl's brought forth murmurs of wonder, and in themidst of them the door was pushed slowly inward and The Sidney Duck,wearing the deuce of spades which the Sheriff had pinned to his jacketwhen he banished him from their presence for cheating at cards, stood onthe threshold, looking uncertainly about him. At once all eyes werefocused upon him.
"Git! Git!" shouted the men, angrily. This was followed by a generalmovement towards him, which so impressed The Sidney Duck that he turnedon his heel and was fleeing for his life when a cry from the Girlstopped him.
"Boys, boys," said the Girl in a reproving voice, which silenced themalmost instantly; then, beckoning to Sid to approach, she went on in hermost gentle tones: "I was jest gittin' to you, Sid, as I promised. Youcan stay."
Looking like a whipped dog The Sidney Duck advanced warily towards her.
Sonora's brow grew thunderou
s.
"What, here among gentlemen?"
And that his protest met with instantaneous approval was shown by theway the miners shifted uneasily in their seats and shoutedthreateningly:
"Git! Git!"
"Why, the fellow's a--" began Trinidad, but got no further, for the Girlstopped him by exclaiming:
"I know, I know, Trin--I've tho't it all over!"
For the next few minutes the Girl stood strangely still and her facebecame very grave. Never before had the men seen her in a mood likethis, and they exchanged wondering glances. Presently she said:
"Boys, of late a man in trouble has been on my mind--" She paused, herglance having caught the peculiar light which her words had caused toappear in Rance's eyes, and lest he should misunderstand her meaning,she hastened to add: "Sid, o' course,--an' I fell to thinkin' o' theProdigal Son. He done better, didn't he?"
"But a card sharp," objected Sonora from the depths of his big voice.
"Yes, that's what!" interjected Trinidad, belligerently.
The Girl's eyebrows lifted and a shade of resentment was in theanswering voice:
"But s'pose there was a moment in his life when he was called upon tofind a extra ace--can't we forgive 'im? He says he's sorry--ain't you,Sid?"
All the while the Girl had been speaking The Sidney Duck kept his eyeslowered and was swallowing nervously. Now he raised them and, with afeeble attempt to simulate penitence, he acknowledged that he had donewrong. Nevertheless, he declared:
"But if I 'adn't got caught things would 'a' been different. Oh, yes,I'm sorry."
In an instant the Girl was at his side removing the deuce of spades fromhis coat.
"Sid, you git your chance," she said with trembling lips. "Now go an'sit down."
A broad smile was creeping over The Sidney Duck's countenance as hemoved towards the others; but Happy took it upon himself to limit itsspread.
"Take that!" he blazed, striking the man in the face. "And git out ofhere!
"Happy, Happy!" cried the Girl. Her voice was so charged with reproachthat The Sidney Duck was allowed by the men to pass on without anyfurther molestation. Nevertheless, when he attempted to sit beside them,they moved as far away as possible from him and compelled him to take astool that stood apart from the benches which held them together infriendly proximity.
At this point Trinidad inquired of the Girl whether she meant to inferthat honesty was not the best policy, and by way of illustration, hewent on to say:
"S'posin' my watch had no works an' I was to sell it to the Sheriff forone hundred dollars. Would you have much respect for me?"
For the briefest part of a second the Girl seemed to be reflecting.
"I'd have more respect for you than for the Sheriff," she answeredsuccinctly.
"Hurrah! Whoopee! Whoop!" yelled the men, who were delighted both withwhat she said as well as her pert way of saying it.
It was in the midst of these shouts that Billy Jackrabbit and Wowkle,unobserved by the others, quietly stole into the room and squattedthemselves down under the blackboard. When the merriment had subsidedRance rose and took the floor. His face was paler than usual, though hisvoice was calm when presently he said:
"Well, bein' Sheriff, I'm careful about my company--I'll sit in the bar.Cheats and road agents"--and here he paused meaningly and glanced fromThe Sidney Duck to the Girl--"ar'n't jest in my line. I walk in the openroad with my head up and my face to the sun, and whatever I've pulledup, you'll remark I've always played square and stood by the cyards."
"I know, I know," observed the Girl and fell wearily into her seat; thenext instant she went on more confidently: "An' that's the way totravel--in the straight road. But if ever I don't travel that road, oryou--"
"You always will, you bet," observed Nick with feeling.
"You bet she will!" shouted the others.
"But if I don't," continued the Girl, insistently, "I hope there'll besomeone to lead me back--back to the right road. 'Cause remember, Rance,some of us are lucky enough to be born good, while others have to be'lected."
"That's eloquence!" cried Sonora, moved almost to tears; while Rancetook a step forward as if about to make some reply; but the nextinstant, his head held no longer erect and his face visibly twitching,he passed into the bar-room.
A silence reigned for a time, which was broken at last by the Girlannouncing with great solemnity:
"If anybody can sing 'My Country 'Tis,' Academy's opened."
At this request, really of a physical nature, and advanced in a spiritof true modesty, all present, curiously enough, seemed to have losttheir voices and nudged one another in an endeavour to get the hymnstarted. Someone insisted that Sonora should go ahead, but that worthypupil objected giving as his excuse, obviously a paltry one and trumpedup for the occasion, that he did not know the words. There was nothingto it, therefore, but that the Indians should render the great Americananthem. And so, standing stolidly facing the others, their high-pitched,nasal voices presently began:
"My country 'tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing."
"Well, if that ain't sarkism!" interjected Sonora between the lines ofthe hymn.
"Land where our fathers died--"
"You bet they died hard!" cut in Trinidad, rolling his eyes upward in acomical imitation of the Indians.
"Land of the Pilgrim's pride, From every mountain side Let freedom ring."
All the while the Indians were singing the last lines of the hymn theGirl's face was a study in reminiscent dreams, but when they hadfinished and were leaving the room, she came back to earth, as it were,and clapped her hands, an appreciation which brought forth from Wowkle agrateful "Huh!"
"I would like to read you a little verse from a book of poems,"presently went on the teacher; and when the men had given her theirattention, she read with much feeling:
"'No star is ever lost we once have seen, We always may be what we might have been.'"
"Why, what's the matter?" inquired Sonora, greatly moved at the sight ofthe tears which, of a sudden, began to run down the teacher's cheeks."Why, what's--?" came simultaneously from the others, words failingthem.
"Nothin', nothin', only it jest came over me that I'll be leavin' yousoon," stammered the Girl. "How can I do it? How can I do it?" shewailed.
Sonora gazed at her unbelievingly.
"Do what?" he said.
"What did she say?" questioned Trinidad.
Now Sonora went over to her, and asked:
"What d'you say? Why, what's the matter?"
Slowly the Girl raised her head and looked at him through half-closedlids, the tears that still clung to them, blinding her almost. Plainlyaudible in the silence of the room the seconds ticked away on the clock,and still she did not speak; at last she murmured:
"Oh, it's nothin', nothin', only I jest remembered I've promised toleave Cloudy soon an', p'r'aps, we might never be together again--youan' me an' The Polka. Oh, it took me jest like that when I seen yourdear, ol' faces, your dear, plucky, ol' faces an' realised that--" Shecould not go on, and buried her face in her hands, her glistening blondehead shaking with her sobs.
It was thus that the Sheriff, entering a moment later, found her.Without a word he resumed his seat in front of the fire.
Sonora continued to stare blankly at her. He was too dazed to speak,much less to think. He broke silence slowly.
"What--you leavin' us?"
"Leavin' us?" inquired Happy, incredulously.
"Careful, girl, careful," warned Nick, softly.
The Girl hesitated a moment, and then went recklessly on:
"It's bound to happen soon."
Sonora looked more puzzled than ever; he rested his hand upon her deskas if to support himself, and said:
"I don't quite understand. Great Gilead! We done anythin' to offendyou?"
"Oh, no, no, no!" she hastened to assure him, at the same time lettingher hand rest upon his.
But this explanation did not
satisfy Sonora. Anxious to discover whatshe had at heart he went on sounding:
"Tired of us? Ain't we got style enough for you?"
The Girl did not answer; her breathing, swift and short, painfullyintensified the hush that had fallen on the room; at last, the boysbecoming impatient began to bombard her with questions.
"Be you goin' to show them Ridge boys we've petered out an' culture's adead dog here?" began Happy, rising.
"Do you want them to think Academy's busted?" asked Handsome.
"Ain't we your boys no more?" put in Trinidad, wistfully.
"Ain't I your boy?" asked Sonora, sentimentally. "Why, what is it, Girl?Has anybody--tell me--perhaps--"
The Girl raised her head and dried her eyes; when she spoke one couldhave heard a pin drop.
"Oh, no, no, no," she said with averted face, and added tremulously:"There, we won't say no more about it. Let's forgit it. Only when I goaway I want to leave the key o' my cabin with Old Sonora here, an' Iwant you all to come up sometimes, an' to think o' me as the girl wholoved you all, an' sometimes is wishin' you well, an' I want to think o'little Nick here runnin' my bar an' not givin' the boys too muchwhisky." Her words died away in a sob and her head fell forward, herhand, the while, resting upon Nick's shoulder.
At last, Sonora saw what lay beneath her tears; the situation was alltoo clear to him now.
"Hold on!" he cried hoarsely. "There's jest one reason for the Girl toleave her home an' friends--only one: There must be some fellow awayfrom here that she--that she likes better 'n she does any of us." Andturning once more upon the Girl, he demanded excitedly: "Is that it?Speak!"
The Girl raised her tear-stained face and looked him in the eye.
"Likes--" she repeated with a world of meaning in her voice--"in adifferent way, yes."
"Well, so help me!" ejaculated Happy, unhappily, while Sonora, with headbent low, went over to his seat.
The next moment the boys of the front rows had joined those of the rearand were grouping themselves together to discuss the situation.
"Sure you ain't makin' a mistake?" Trinidad questioned suddenly.
The Girl came down from her seat on the platform and went over to them.
"Mistake," she repeated dreamily. "Oh, no, no, no, boys, there's nomistake about this. Oh, Trin!" she burst out tearfully, and two softarms crept gently about his neck. "An' Sonora--Ah, Sonora!" She raisedherself on her tiny toes and kissed him on the left cheek.
The next instant she was gone.