Heart's Desire
CHAPTER XX
MEDICINE AT HEART'S DESIRE
_How the Girl from the States kept the Set of Twins from being broken_
Even as the stouter-hearted captains of Heart's Desire began to voicetheir confidence, a sudden sense of helplessness, of personal inadequacy,came upon Porter Barkley, erstwhile leader of the forces of the A. P. andS. E. Railway Company. With emotions of chagrin and humiliation he foundhimself obliged wholly to readjust his estimate of himself and hispowers. He had come hither full of confidence, accustomed to success,animated by a genial condescension toward these benighted men; and now,how quickly had the situation been reversed! Nay, worse than reversed.He, Porter Barkley, a man who had bought a legislature in his time, wasignored, forgotten by these strangers, as though he did not exist! Morethan that, Ellsworth was reticent with him; and worst of all, when he metConstance at the table she gave him no more than a curt nod and a politeforgetfulness of his presence.
Porter Barkley wished nothing so much as speedily to get away from thescene of his twofold defeat, although he knew that farewell meantdismissal. He knew also that he could restore himself to the respect ofHeart's Desire in only one way; but he did not go out on the street insearch of that way, although the Socorro stage was a full day late in itsdeparture, and he was obliged to remain a prisoner indoors.
Indeed, Constance and her father were little better than prisoners aswell, for no possible means of locomotion offered whereby they could getout of town; and all Heart's Desire remained aloof from them, not eventhe Littlest Girl coming across the _arroyo_ to call on Constance at thehotel.
"I'd like to have her come over to see the twins," said Curly to hisspouse, "but I reckon like enough she's sore."
"I'd be mighty glad to have a good square talk with some woman from theStates," rejoined the Littlest Girl, hesitatingly. "I'd sort of like toknow what folks is wearin' back there now. Besides that--"
"Besides what?"
"I don't more'n half believe her and Dan Anderson is gettin' along verywell, someway."
"That so? Well, I don't see how they can, the way he throwed the spursinto her pa the other night."
"He just worships the ground that girl walks on."
"You oughtn't to talk so much. That ain't our business--but how do youknow?"
"Well, because I _do_ know," responded the Littlest Girl, warmly. "Don'tyou suppose I can see? I've talked with Dan every time he come up hereto buy a pie--talked about that girl. He buys more pies now than he usedto. I reckon I _know_."
"That may all be. Question is, how's she a-feelin' toward _him_ thesedays?"
"Curly," after a little silence, "I'm going to put on my bonnet and goover there and see that girl. She's all alone. I'll take her a pie. Ialways did think she was nice."
"Well, all right. There's Bill Godfrey drivin' the stage out of his barnnow. I'll go over to the post-office and help the old man with the mail.May ride out as far as the ranch with Bill and see if Mac has anythingspecial to do. There was talk of that Nogal sheep outfit gettin' in onthe lower end of our range. If they do, something'll pop for sure. Yougo on over to the hotel if you want to. Ma'll take care of the twins."
The departure of the stage for Socorro occurred once a week or so, if allwent well, and the event was always one of importance. Even Mr.Ellsworth and Constance found themselves joining the groups whichwandered now toward the post-office, next door to Whiteman's store, infront of which Bill Godfrey regularly made his first stop preparatory toleaving town. As they two passed up the street from the hotel, theymissed the Littlest Girl, who crossed the _arroyo_ above them by aquarter of a mile; Heart's Desire being, in view of its population, acity of magnificent distances.
The man from Leavenworth, postmaster, had nearly finished the solemnperformance of locking up the emaciated mail-bag for Socorro, and BillGodfrey was looking intently at his watch--which had not gone for sixmonths--when all at once the assemblage in and around the post-office wasstartled by shrieks, screams, and calls of the most alarming nature.These rapidly approached from the direction of the _arroyo_, beyondwhich lay the residence portion of Heart's Desire. Presently there wasto be distinguished the voice of a woman, raised in terrifiedlamentations, accompanied with the broken screams of a child in evidentdistress. There appeared, hastening toward the group in front of thestore, Curly's mother-in-law, wife of the postmaster of Heart's Desire,and guardian as well of the twins of Heart's Desire. It was one of thesetwins, Arabella, whom she now hurried along with her, at such speed thatthe child's feet scarce touched the ground. When this latter did happen,Arabella seemed synchronously to catch her breath, becoming thus able toemit one more spasmodic wail. There was pain and fright in the cries,and the whole attitude of the woman from Kansas was such that all knewsome tragedy had occurred or was impending.
"Good Lord!" cried Curly, "I'll bet a thousand dollars the kid's got mystrychnine bottle this time! I left it in the window. There was enoughto poison a thousand coyotes!"
He sprang forward to catch the other arm of the sobbing child. The manfrom Kansas, postmaster of Heart's Desire, hastened to join his wife inthe street, wagging his gray beard in wild queries. In half a moment allthe population was massed in front of Whiteman's store, incoherent,frightened, utterly helpless.
"She's dyin'!" cried the woman from Kansas. "Poison! Oh, Willyam, whatshall we do?" But the postmaster was unable to offer any aid or counsel.
"I just left it there in the window," explained Curly, excitedly; "I wasgoin' to put out some baits around a water hole, about to-morrow."
"Oh, it's awful!" sobbed the woman from Kansas. "What shall we do? Whatshall we do?"
"Doc," said Curly to Doc Tomlinson, "you run the drug store--ain't yougot no anecdote for this?" Doc Tomlinson could only shake his headmournfully. A ring of bearded, beweaponed men gathered about the littlesufferer, hopeless, at their wits' end.
Constance and her father, hurrying to learn the cause of the commotion,received but incoherent answers to their questions. "Good Lord! girl,that child's hurt!" cried Ellsworth, helpless as the others. "What'll wedo?"
Constance did not even reply to him. Without his assistance, indeedwithout looking to right or left, she made straight through the circle ofmen, who gave way to admit her.
"What's the trouble here? What's wrong?" she demanded sharply, catchingthe weeping woman by the arm, even as she reached out a hand toward thesuffering Arabella.
"Poison!" wailed the woman from Kansas again. "She's goin' to die!There ain't no way to help it."
"What poison--what has the child taken?" asked Constance.
"It was strychnine, ma'am, like enough," ventured Curly. "There wassome--"
"Nonsense! It's not strychnine," cried the girl. In an instant her eyehad caught what every other individual present had overlooked, althoughit was certainly the most obvious object in all the landscape,--thehalf-empty can which still remained tightly clutched in Arabella's freehand.
"Why, here it is!" she exclaimed. "The child has eaten concentrated lye.Quick! Get her in somewhere. What are you standing around here for--getout of the way, you men!"
They scattered, and Constance glanced about her. "Where's somegrease--some lard? Quick!" she called out to Whiteman, who was lookingon.
"In here, lady--dis vay," he answered eagerly; but she outfooted him tothe rear of the store, carrying Arabella in her arms. Spying a lard tin,she thrust off the cover, and plunged in a hand. Immediately the sobs ofArabella changed to sputterings, for the physician in charge had coveredher face, lips, and a goodly portion of the interior of her mouth andthroat with the ameliorating unguent! At this act of first aid, thewails of the woman from Kansas ceased also, and a vast sigh of reliefarose from the confederated helplessness of Heart's Desire.
"Is she going to die?" gasped the woman from Kansas.
"No," said Constance, scornfully. "I've seen much worse burns. The lyehas perhaps lost a little of its strength, too
. The burns are all wellin the front of the mouth and tongue, and I don't think she swallowed anyof it. Lard is as good as anything to stop the burn. Why didn't youthink of it?"
"I don't know, ma'am," confessed the woman from Kansas.
A sudden loquacity now seized upon all those recently perturbed andsilent.
"Now," said Curly, "it's this-a-way; the women they must have left thatcan of lye settin' around. It's mighty careless of 'em. I _needed_ mystrychnine, but there ain't no _sense_ in leavin' lye settin' around.Them twins was due to eat it, shore. Why, they was _broke_ to eatanything that comes in tin cans!"
Constance gathered Arabella in her arms. The tailored gown was ruinednow. One hand remained gloved, but both were grease-laden to the wrists.She was unconscious of all this. Her gaze, frowning, solicitous,maternal, bent itself upon the face of her patient. The men of Heart'sDesire looked on, silent, relieved, adoring. A few began to edge towardthe open air.
"You ain't no kind of a drug-store man," said the postmaster, scornfully,to Tomlinson.
"Why ain't I?" retorted the latter, hotly. "What _chance_ does amerchant get in this town? What do I get for carrying a full line ofdrugs here for years? Now, _lard_ ain't drugs. It ain't in thepharmacopy."
"I don't know but it's a good thing for that kid," said Curly. "Sheought to be plumb soft-spoken all her life, after all that lard in herfrontispiece. But it won't do 'em no good,--they'll eat my strychninenext. This here stage-coach--with her along," jerking his thumb towardsthe physician in charge, "won't be any more'n out of sight before thattwin corporation will be fryin' dynamite on the kitchen stove. I shorethought that set of twins was busted this time for keeps. Unless there'stwo of 'em, twins ain't no good!"
"Ma'am, your dress is just ruined," said the woman from Kansas; "you arelard clean from head to foot!"
"I know it," cried Constance, gayly, the color coming to her cheeks; "butnever mind, the baby's all right now."
"Well, you've got to come over to our house and get fixed up. Was yougoin' out on the stage? You stay here for a day or so and watch thatchild; we'd like it mighty well if you would."
It was a flag of truce from Heart's Desire. Nevertheless, Constanceseemed to hesitate. Ah! wily Constance. A great many things mighthappen which had not yet happened, but which ought to happen. And in allthat group Dan Anderson was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps after a time hemight come!
Constance hesitated just long enough. The dignity of Bill Godfrey had tobe sustained. His stagecoach had not started on the appointed andstipulated time any day these many months; yet for that stage, readyequipped for its journey, to stand waiting idly upon the convenience ofany mortal after the "mails" had been brought out from the post-officeand placed safely in the boot, was mortal affront to any stage-driver'sreputation. Bill Godfrey again looked solemnly at his watch and gatheredup the reins. "All aboard!" he cried. "Git up!" and so swung a widecircle and headed down the street to the hotel. Presently he departed.He carried a solitary passenger. Constance and her father were stillprisoners, or guests, in Heart's Desire for an indefinite time! And inan indefinite time many things may occur.
In his house across the _arroyo_ Dan Anderson endured the silence andloneliness as long as he could, turning over and over again in his mindthe old questions to which he had found no answer. Most of all, onequestion was insistent. Had he been just to her, to Constance, inallowing himself to accept her alleged conduct as a motive for his ownactual conduct? He had taken for granted much--all--and upon what mannerof testimony? The babblings of a half-witted herder! He had asked themen of Heart's Desire to hear both sides of his own case. The men ofHeart's Desire had heard both sides of the railroad's case. But he hadcondemned without trial the woman whom he loved--her--Constance! It wasimpossible, unbelievable of any man.
When the horror of this thought broke upon him fully, Dan Anderson sprangup, caught his hat, and started fast as he might for the hotel. Hecrossed the _arroyo_ below the post-office, and so did not know, at thetime, of the peril and rescue of Arabella. Nor did he know that all ofHeart's Desire was penitent regarding her and her father; nor that bothwere to remain for yet a little time.
Dan Anderson approached the stone hotel in time to watch the stagedepart, himself unobserved. Then he stepped farther toward the hoteldoor. He met the Littlest Girl just emerging from the building, whithershe had gone upon the same errand as his own.
"She ain't here, Mr. Anderson," explained the Littlest Girl; "her and herpa has just went to the post-office."
He looked at her silently. "Oh, I know who you come to see," assertedthe Littlest Girl, "and I don't blame you. It's _time_ you did, too."
Without a word he turned and walked with her up the street, there to missConstance by three moments, which, potentially, might have been alife-time.