Out of the Depths: A Romance of Reclamation
CHAPTER XII
THE MEETING
A word started the horses into a lope. The buckboard was whirled alongover the last two miles to Stockchute in a wild race against thetrain. The steam horse won. It had sidetracked the private carattached to the rear of the last pullman and was puffing awaywestward, when Ashton guided his running team in among the crudeshacks of the town. He swung around at a more moderate pace towardsthe big chute for cattle-loading, and fetched up a few yards out fromthe rear step of the private car.
An assiduous porter had already swung down with a box step. A big,square-faced, square-framed man of twenty-eight or thirty stepped outinto the car vestibule. He sprang to the ground as Miss Knowlesstepped from the buckboard. She had lowered her veil, but it failed tomask the extreme brilliancy of her eyes and her quick changes ofcolor. Her face, flushed from the excitement of the race into town,went white when she first saw the man in the vestibule; flushed againwhen he sprang down; again paled; and, last of all, glowed radiantlyas she advanced to meet him.
He hastened to her, baring his big head of its Panama, and staring ather fashionable hat and dress in frank surprise.
"Mr. Blake!" she murmured.
At the sound of her voice he started and fixed his light blue eyes onher veiled face with a keen glance. She turned pale and as quicklyblushed, as if embarrassed by his scrutiny.
"Excuse me!" he apologized. "You are Miss Knowles?"
"Yes," she murmured.
"Knowles?" he repeated, half to himself. "Strange! Haven't I met youbefore?"
"In Denver?" she suggested. "I spend my winters in Denver. But therewas one in Europe."
"No, it wouldn't be either. You must excuse me, Miss Knowles. Therewas something about your voice and face--rather threw me off mybalance. If you'll kindly overlook the bungling start-off! I'm greatlypleased to meet you. My wife will be, too. May I ask you to stepaboard the car?--No, here she is now."
A graceful, rather small lady, dressed with elegant simplicity, hadcome out into the car vestibule.
"Jenny, here's Miss Knowles now," said Blake. "She came to meet usherself."
"That was very good of you, Miss Knowles," said the lady, as the twoadvanced towards her. "We are very glad to meet you. Will you notcome up out of the sun?"
The white-uniformed porter promptly stood at attention. Blake aspromptly offered his hand. The girl accepted his assistance andmounted the car steps with an absence of awkwardness instantly notedby Mrs. Blake. That lady held out a somewhat thin white hand as Isobeldrew off her gauntlet gloves. But she did not stop with the light firmhandclasp. Lifting the girl's veil, she kissed her full on her corallips.
"We shall be friends," she stated, a smile in her hazel eyes.
"I hope so," murmured the girl, blushing with delight. "The onlyquestion is whether you will like me."
Mrs. Blake patted the plump, sunbrowned hand that she had not yetrelinquished. She was little if any older than the girl, but her airwas that of matronly wisdom. "My dear, can you doubt it? I wasprepared to like even the kind of young woman my husband told me toexpect."
"Bronco Bess, Queen of the Cattle Camp," suggested the girl, dimpling."Wait till you see me rope and hogtie a steer."
Mrs. Blake smiled, and looked across at Ashton, who sat motionlessunder the shadow of his big sombrero, his face half averted from thecar.
"I've a real surprise for you," said the girl. "Mr. Blake, if I maytell it to you also."
Blake swung up the steps, hat in hand. "It can't be half as pleasantas the surprise you've already given us," he said.
"I fear not," she replied, with a quick change to gravity. She lookedearnestly into their faces. "Still, I hope--yes, I really believe itwill please you when you consider it. But first, I want to tell youthat out here it's our notion that a man should be rated according tohis present life, and not blamed for his past mistakes."
"Certainly not!" agreed Mrs. Blake, with a swift glance at herhusband. "If a man has mounted to a higher level, he should be upheld,not dragged down again."
"That's good old-style Western fair play," added Blake.
"I'm so glad you take it that way!" said Isobel. "A young man utterlyruined in fortune--partly at least through his own fault--came to usand asked to be hired. He has been a hard worker and a gentleman. Hisname is Lafayette Ashton."
"Ashton?" said Blake, his face as impassive as a granite mask.
"Yes. He has told me all about the bridge. He wished to go away,because he thought you and Mrs. Blake would not like to meet him. Itold him you would be willing to let bygones be bygones, and help himstart off with a new tally card."
"Lafayette Ashton working--as a cowboy!" murmured Mrs. Blake.
"He is still a good deal of a tenderfoot. But he is learning fast; andwork!--the way he pesters Daddy to find him something to do!"
"He certainly must be a changed man," dryly commented Blake.
"_Cherchez la femme_," said his wife.
"Mrs. Blake!" protested the girl, blushing.
"What's that?" he asked.
"'Find the woman,'" explained Mrs. Blake.
"That's easy," he said, fixing his twinkling eyes on the rosy-facedgirl.
"But I'm sure it has not been because of me--at least not altogether,"she qualified with her uncompromising honesty.
"I wouldn't blame him even if it was altogether," said Blake.
"Then you will be willing to overlook your past trouble with him?"
"Since you say he has straightened out--yes."
"That's good of you! That's what I expected of you!" exclaimed thegirl. "That is he, in the buckboard."
Without a word, Blake started down the car steps.
"Bring him here at once, Tom," said Mrs. Blake.
Her husband went up beside the motionless figure in the buckboard andheld out his hand. "Glad to meet you, Ashton," he said withmatter-of-fact heartiness. "Jenny wants you to come to her. We're notready to start, as we were not certain we would be met."
"Miss--Mrs. Blake wishes me to come!" mumbled Ashton.
"Yes," said Blake, gripping the other's hesitatingly extended hand.
Ashton flushed darkly. "But I--I can't leave the horses," he replied.
Blake signed to the porter, who hastened forward. "Hold the lines forthis gentleman, Sam."
Ashton reluctantly gave the lines into the mulatto's sallow hands andstepped from the buckboard. His head hung forward as he followedBlake. But at the foot of the steps he removed his sombrero and forcedhimself to look up. Isobel was smiling down at him encouragingly. Helooked from her to Mrs. Blake, his handsome face crimson with shame.
"How do you do, Lafayette?" Mrs. Blake greeted him with quietcordiality. "This is a pleasant surprise."
"Yes--yes, indeed! I--yes, very!" he stammered, so embarrassed that hewould have stuck at the foot of the steps had not Blake started him upwith a vigorous boost.
Mrs. Blake gave him her hand. "You look so strong and hearty!" sheremarked. "It speaks well for the fare Miss Knowles provides."
"Oh, that credit is due our Jap chef," laughed the girl. "I can cutout a cow from the herd better than I can bone a chop. But the butterand eggs and cream that are awaiting you--Which reminds me that we'veyet to see It."
"It?" asked Blake.
"Yes, him--the _baby_!"
"Oh, you dear girl!" cooed Mrs. Blake. "Come in and see him."
Isobel followed her into the car. Blake nodded to Ashton. But theyounger man shrank away from the door.
"If you'll kindly excuse me," he muttered. "It would remind me toomuch of--the time when--No, I'd rather not."
"Of course," assented Blake with ready understanding. "How do you likethis country? I went through here once on a railway survey. It's raregood luck--this chance to visit Miss Knowles. Jenny is a little rundown, as you see."
"I shall trust that her visit to this locality will soon quite restoreher," remarked Ashton.
"It will. The doctors said Maine; I said Colorado. It ha
s done you noend of good. You are looking particularly fine and fit."
"It has helped me--in more ways than one," murmured Ashton.
"Glad to hear you say it!" responded Blake in hearty approval.
Ashton turned from him as Isobel appeared in the doorway, cuddling alusty, rosy-cheeked baby. The mother hovered close behind her.
"Look at him!" jeered Blake with heavily feigned derision. "Did youever see such a big, fat, lubberly--"
"Yes, look at him, Lafe," said the girl, stepping out into thevestibule. "He is only a yearling, but isn't he just the perfect imageof his father?"
Ashton burst into a ringing laugh, but abruptly checked himself atsight of the sober face of the young mother. "I--I beg pardon!" hestammered. "I--she--Miss Knowles--that is what she told me to tell youabout him."
"And you didn't play up worth a little bit, Lafe!" complained thegirl.
It was Blake's turn to laugh. "You--!" he accused. "Schemed to frameup a case on us did you!"
His wife smiled faintly, not altogether certain that an aspersion hadnot been cast upon her chuckling son.
"But it's partly true, really," remarked Ashton, peering at the baby'sbig pale-blue eyes.
Blake burst into a hilarious roar. But Mrs. Blake now beamed uponAshton. "Then you, too, see the resemblance, Lafayette! Isn't itwonderful, and he so young? His name is Thomas Herbert Vincent LeslieBlake.--Now, my dear, if you please, I shall take him in. We must bepreparing to start, if it is so long a drive."
"Do let me hold him until you and Mr. Blake are ready," begged thegirl.
"I am not quite sure that--You will be careful not to drop him? He istremendously strong, and he squirms," dubiously assented the fondmother. "Come, Tom. We must not keep Miss Knowles waiting."
Blake disappeared with her into the luxuriously furnished car.
"Isn't he a dear?" cooed the girl, clasping the baby to her bosom andkissing his chubby clenched hands. He stared up into her glowing facewith his round light-blue eyes. "Thomas Blake!--Tom Blake!" shewhispered.
Ashton did not heed the words. He was gazing too intently at the girland the child. His eyes glistened with a wonderment and longing soexquisitely intense that it was like a pain. The girl sank down in oneof the cane chairs and laid the baby on his back. He kicked andgurgled, seized one of his upraised feet and thrust a pink big toe inbetween his white milk teeth.
"That's more than you can do, Lafe!" challenged the girl.
She glanced up, dimpling with merriment,--met the adoration in hiseyes, and looked down, blushing. He attempted to speak, but the wordschoked into an incoherent sound like a sob. He jumped from the car andhurried to take the lines from the porter.