CHAPTER XVII
To learn that her mountain retreat had been invaded and that she hadbeen spied upon filled Ma Briskow with dismay, but when Allie foundfault with her behavior the elder woman burned with resentment.
"We're queer enough," the girl said, "without you cutting up crazy andmaking folks talk. If you want to dance, for goodness' sake hiresomebody to lear--to teach you, same as I did."
Mrs. Briskow had silently endured her daughter's criticism up to thispoint, but now her lips tightened and there was a defiant tilt to herhead.
"Who says I want to dance?" she demanded. "I can dance good enough."
"What was you up to the other day? That Delamater man said you wasacting plumb nutty."
"I wasn't doin' anything."
"Where do you go every day, Ma? You stay around nice and quiet tillMiz' Ring or I look the other way, then--you're gone."
"I kinda--visit around."
"Who d'you visit with? You don't know anybody. Nobody ever speaks tous. You ain't in earnest about those fairies and things, are you?"
"It ain't anybody's business where I go or what I do," Ma declared, insullen exasperation. "I ain't bothering anybody, am I?"
"Don't say 'ain't,' say 'isn't.'"
For once in her patient life the mother flamed into open rebellion."Don't 'don't' me!" she cried. "You're gettin' the 'don't' habit offMiz' Ring an' nothin' I say or do is right any more. You mind your own'isn'ts' an' I'll handle my 'ain'ts.' I got places where I go an'things I do an' I don't bother nobody. I guess we got enough money so Ican do things I want to, as long as I don't bother nobody."
"Why don't you take Pa along? He'd go, then people--"
"Mind your own business!" the old woman snapped. She flounced out ofthe room, leaving Allie amazed and indignant at this burst of temper.
That day Ma Briskow abandoned her mountain fastness. She took herfaithful retainers with her and led them farther up the ravine to aretreat that was truly inaccessible. She moved them, bag and baggage.Of course, there was a scene; the children cried, the women wailed, themen wept. But she told them that traitors had betrayed their hidingplace to the dastardly Duke of Dallas, and any moment might bring hiscutthroat crew upon them. Some of the younger bloods were for remainingand selling their lives dearly, but Ma would not hear to it.
It was quite an undertaking to move a whole nomad tribe, for there wereall the household belongings, the cattle, the sheep, the goats, themilk-white Arabian steeds, the butter and eggs and homemade preserves,and all the paraphernalia of a warlike people. It is surprising howstuff accumulates in a mountain fastness. But she managed the retreatwith conspicuous ability. Ma led the long caravan into the bed of arunning stream, so that there would remain not a single footprint toguide pursuers, then she sat in her saddle and gazed back at the silentcamping place.
Trap her, eh? Come upon her unprepared, would they? Ha! ha! She laughedscornfully and tossed her head of midnight hair as she pictured theduke's rage at finding he had been foiled again, and by a mere slip ofa girl!
This was a good game and exciting, too. Fetch Pa Briskow along, indeed!Why, these wild mountain folk would kill him; in their present moodthey would rend a stranger hip from thigh. If they dreamed, forinstance, that she, their queen, was married--
Here was a new thought, and Ma's imagination leaped at it. If thesepassionate people suspected that she had contracted a secret marriagewith the--the Earl of Briskow, their jealousy would know no bounds.They would probably slay Pa. Ma shuddered at the horrid vision of whatwould happen to Pa. This was truly thrilling.
Later on in the morning Mrs. Briskow discovered that she possessedanother amazing accomplishment--_viz_., the ability to walk on aceiling, upside down, like a fly. It was extremely amusing, for itenabled a person to see right into everything. Pa and Allie looked veryfunny from above.
The next day, when she stealthily slipped out of her French window, shefound Calvin Gray idly rocking on the veranda. He welcomed herappearance and pretended not to see her embarrassment at the meeting;he was glad of this chance for a visit with her alone. Perhaps she wasgoing for a walk and would take him along?
Ma was annoyed and suspicious. She liked Gray, but--she was as wary asa trout and she refused to be baited. She would allow him to walk withher--but lead him to the retreat? Well, hardly.
The man was piqued, for suspicion irked him. It was a tribute to hispatience and to his knack of inspiring confidence that Ma finally toldhim about Allie's criticism and her resentment thereat.
"I got my own way of enjoyin' myself, an' I don't care what peoplethink," she declared, with some heat.
"Quite right. It's none of their darned business, Ma."
"She thinks I'm kind of crazy an'--I guess I am. But it comes fromlivin' so long in the heat an' the drought an' allus wantin' things Icouldn't have--allus bein' sort of thirsty in the head. When you wantthings all your life an' never have 'em, you get so you _play_ you'vegot 'em."
The man nodded. "You had a hard time. Your life was starved. I'm soglad the money came in time."
"You see, I never had time to play, or a good place to play in, evenwhen I was a little girl. But this is like--like books I've read."
"Are these mountains what you thought they would be?"
"Oh, they're better!" Ma breathed. "It's too bad Allie's got to spoilever'thing."
"I shall speak to her. We won't let her spoil anything. Now tell me howyou play."
But Ma flushed faintly, and for some time longer she refused herconfidence. It didn't matter; it was all an old woman's foolishness;nobody would understand. Gray was not insistent; nevertheless, beforelong they were on their way toward the glen.
It was a glorious morning, the forest was beautiful, and as the twostrolled through it Ma's companion told her many things about trees andflowers and birds and bees that she had never dreamed of. Now Gray'snatural history was shockingly inaccurate, nevertheless it wasinteresting, and it was told in a manner both whimsical and sprightly.He made up outrageous stories, and he took no shame in seriouslyrecounting experiences of his own that Ma knew were wholly imaginary.She told him, finally:
"Sakes alive! You're as crazy as I am."
This he denied with spirit. Forests were enchanted places, and trollsdwelt in the mountains. There was no question about that; most peoplenever took time to see them, that was all. Now as for him, he hadactually beheld naiads and dryads, nixies and pixies, at play--at leasthe had practically been upon the point of seeing them. Ma, herself,must have come across places they had just left, but probably she hadlacked the patience to await their return or the faith to woo them intobeing. There were little woods people, too, no bigger than your thumb,whose drinking goblets were acorn cups, and whose plates were shinyleaves. He showed her how to set a fairy tablecloth with herhandkerchief and with toadstools for seats.
In a reckless burst of confidence Ma told him how it felt to walkupside down, like a fly, and to go bounding through the woods like athistledown. Gray had never tried it, but he was interested.
Then, finally, alas! the inconsistency of woman! she told him all abouther hidden band of mountaineers.
Now this was something he _could_ understand. This was more his speed.He insisted upon making the personal acquaintance of those boldfollowers of hers and upon hearing the whole sad story of the PrincessPensacola. The history of her struggle against the wicked Duke ofDallas moved him; he wove new details of his own into it, and before Maknew it he was actually playing the part of the duke.
The duke, it appeared, was a hard and haughty man, but at heart he wasnot all bad; when he had listened to the story of his victim's wrongsand more fully appreciated the courage, the devotion of her doughtyfollowers, he was touched. For her sake, and theirs, he proposed atruce to this ruinous struggle. What kind of a truce? Well, he refusedentirely to renounce his claim to the throne, but--they might share it.He was a handsome man and no wickeder than the general run of dukes; hewould make a becoming husband to the beauteo
us princess, and if she sether mind to it she could probably make a better person of him. Thuswould the warring factions be united, thus would the blessings of peacedescend--
But the princess raised her slim, jeweled hand, and spoke thus: "Toolate, Your Honor! I been married to His Royal Highness the Earl ofBriskow, and it serves you right the way you done both of us."
The duke fell into a great rage at this. He refused to believe it, andthreatened to annul the marriage.
"Oh, you can't do that," tittered the princess. "We was married by theRoyal Justice of the Peace and--we got two children."
Here _was_ a blow! The duke was crushed, until a happy thought came tohim. If cruel fate prevented him from claiming the Princess Pensacolafor a bride he would take her for a mother. He had always wanted amother, anyhow; lack of maternal care it was that accounted for hiswildness--it was enough to ruin any duke--and mothers were much nicerthan wives. They were much harder to get, also.
"Lord! I wish you meant it!" Ma exclaimed, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Iwish Allie was a real princess. Mebbe--"
Gray broke in with a laugh. "There! You've spoiled the play. The dukehas fled."
Mrs. Briskow's wrinkled face beamed. "Think of a gre't big man like youplayin' 'pretend' with a foolish old woman like me! I thought you hadmore sense."
"I live in my own land of 'pretend,' just as you do. Why, I have a realprincess of my own."
"Honest?"
Gray nodded. "The Princess of Wichita Falls. Would you like to hearabout her? Well, she's small and dainty, as princesses should be, andher eyes are like bluebells, Ma. They are brave, honest eyes that canlaugh or cry--the sort of eyes that make a man's head swim when helooks into them too long. She carries herself like a great lady, andshe's very cool and business--I mean princess-like, to men. But inreality she's just an adorable feminine creature who wants to be loved.When she laughs two deep dimples come into her cheeks--marks of royalfavor. Some people may consider her too stern, too matter-of-fact, butshe isn't; in her boudoir there is scent and sachet and frilly, ribbonythings that nobody ever sees. And flowers from me. She loves roses bestof all and she says she buries her face in them. I send her roses,mostly, so they can kiss her cheeks for me. A tiny yellow love bird ina tiny yellow cage sings her awake every morning. I taught it the songit warbles, but--she'll never understand what the little bird is tryingto say."
Ma Briskow had listened with rapt attention. Now, she inquired, "Doesshe love you?"
"Didn't I tell you this was my game of pretense?" Gray said, gayly. "Doyou really think that an adorable creature whose head is full ofgirlish notions and youthful ideals could care for the worldly, wickedold Duke of Dallas? I am old, Ma, and I've gone the gait."
"Pshaw! You ain't any such thing."
"Well, perhaps I'm a better lover than I believe. Who knows?Fortunately, however, it is all just an amusing game." The speaker roseand looked at his watch. "It is lunch time, Mother Briskow, and I'mfamished."
As the two entered the hotel grounds, Gus and Allie hurried to meetthem, and the latter exclaimed, irritably: "It's about time you showedup. We've been looking everywhere for you."
At sight of her husband's face Ma inquired, in sudden anxiety, "What'swrong, Gus?"
"It's Buddy," Allie declared.
"'Tain't serious," Briskow said. "And it is, too. He's left school--runaway! Here, Mr. Gray, see what you make out of it."
Gray read aloud the letter that was handed to him, a letter from theprincipal of the institution that he himself had recommended, statingthat Ozark had disappeared without doing the college authorities thecourtesy of leaving an address. Inasmuch as he had never expressed theslightest dissatisfaction with his surroundings, the writer was at aloss to explain the reason for this disappearance. As to Ozark'ssafety, there was no immediate cause for apprehension, for he had takenwith him three trunks of clothing, a high-powered touring car, and aBelgian police dog; but certain of the young man's exploits that hadcome to light since his departure aroused grave doubts in theprincipal's mind of his moral well-being.
"What's it mean?" the mother inquired.
"It means that Buddy has taken a vacation. How much money has he?"
"He's got plenty," Gus declared. "More 'n is good for him if--"
"If what?" Ma queried.
Gus halted; it was Allie who answered: "If he's done what we think he'sdone--gone away after some woman."
"Some _woman_?" Ma stared blankly from one face to another. "Buddy inlove? Why, he never wrote me nothing about bein' in love." Reading afurther message in her husband's expression, she cried, fiercely: "He'sa good boy. He wouldn't take up with--with nobody that wasn't nice.What makes you think it's a girl?"
"I didn't say 'girl,' Ma, I said '_woman_.' Buddy's been writin' to meand--"
"What's the difference? Mebbe he's in love with some nice young womanan' they've run away to git married. Buddy's han'some, and they gotnice women everywhere--"
"_Love_? With all his money? And him only up to fractions?" Alleghenylaughed scornfully.
Gus Briskow wiped his face with a nervous hand. "I'm 'most sick overit," he confessed. "The perfessor has written me a coupla times abouthim. Buddy's gone kinda wild, I guess, drinkin' an'--"
"Drinking?" Gray interrupted, sharply. "Why didn't you tell me? So, yougave him unlimited money, in spite of my warning?"
"He wanted his own bank account; his share of the royalties. Made himfeel more like a man, he said. I--I never learned how to say 'no' tohim or Allie. Ma an' I allus said 'no' to each other, but it was allus'yes' to them. We never had much to give 'em, noway."
"Drinking, eh?" Gray was frowning. "The woman part I don't care so muchabout--he'll probably get over that if it isn't too serious. Butwhisky! That's different. I'm responsible for that boy; in a manner ofspeaking, I adopted him because--well, because he flattered me bypretending to admire me. It was a unique experience. I took Buddy formy own. Will you let me handle this matter?" The speaker looked fromone parent to the other, and they saw that his face was grimly set."Give me my way and I'll bring that young rascal to time or--" Heshrugged, he smiled faintly. "Give me permission to treat him as if hereally were my own, will you?"
"You got my leave," said the father; but Ma Briskow bristled.
"Don't you dast to hurt him," she cried.
Again Gray shrugged, this time with resignation. "As you will. I waswild, myself; I think I know what he needs."
"You can't beat anything into Buddy's head." It was Allie speaking."After all, he's grown up, and what right has anybody got to interferewith him? S'pose it _is_ a woman? S'pose she _is_ after his money? It'shis. Men can get what they want by payin' for it. An hour, a day, aweek of happiness! Ain't that worth all Buddy 'll have to pay? I'd pay.I'd go through torture the rest of my life--"
"_Allegheny Briskow!_" the mother exclaimed.
"Well, I would." The girl's voice broke, a sudden agitation seized her;in passionate defiance she went on: "What's the use of wantingsomething all your life and never getting it? What's money for if youcan't buy the one thing you want worst of all? That's where men havegot the best of it; they can buy love. I wish I was a man; I wish I wasBuddy! I'd have my day, my week--and as much more as I could pay for.I'd have happiness that long if it broke my heart. But I'm a _girl_!"
It was with a sudden interest that Gray studied the speaker. Here was aside to the Briskow character that he had not suspected, and it gavehim a new light upon Buddy, for brother and sister were much alike; itshowed him more clearly the size of the task he had volunteered toundertake. He heard the father speaking, and reluctantly withdrew hiseyes from Allie's flaming face.
"He likes you, Mr. Gray, an' mebbe you could keep him from spoilin' hishull life. That's what he's liable to do an'--I'm skeered. He wouldn'tlisten to me. Boys don't listen to their fathers."
"I'll find him, Gus, and I'll make him listen to me. If it is drink,I'll break him of it. If it is a woman--I'll break him of that, too,for it can't be more than a
passing fancy." Noting the tragic concernthat wrinkled Ma Briskow's face, he put an arm about her, saying moregently: "Now, now! I won't deny you the luxury of worrying, Ma dear.That is a mother's divine prerogative, but rest assured Buddy sha'n'tdo himself any great harm. Now then, let's get to a long-distancephone."
It was perhaps two hours before Gray reported to Gus Briskow: "Theydon't know much more at the school than was written in that letter. Hehas been going a rather lively pace lately, it seems."
"Did you find out anything about the--the woman?"
"Nothing definite. I have put detectives on the case, and they willreport to me at Wichita Falls. As soon as they uncover his trail, I'llgo to Buddy at once."
"You goin' to leave us?"
"I must. I've just received a telegram from my--my agent. About thepurchase of a well. It is a matter that can't wait."
"I can't thank you for all you done for us. We was in bad shape tillyou come. Now--"
"Now everything is straight again. That's my job, Gus--to do little oddfavors for those I love. You must stay here, for Ma is happy, and thisplace is making a girl of her. Allie is doing wonders with herself,too. By the way, she needn't be lonely any more; I've talked to some ofthe guests, and they want to make friends with her. She'll find themnice people, and you must make her meet them halfway. Perhaps she'llbecome interested in some decent young fellow. I'd like that, wouldn'tyou?"
"Would ye?"
The tone of this inquiry caused Gray to glance more keenly at thespeaker, but Briskow's bright eyes told him nothing.
"Why, naturally. Allie is becoming more attractive every day, and sheis going to make something of herself. She is going to 'do us allproud.'"
As soon as he was alone Gray eagerly reread his telegram from WichitaFalls. It was from Barbara Parker--the first, by the way, that he hadever received--and he smiled at the girl's effort to be thoroughlybusinesslike, and at the same time to convey the full urgency of hermessage. Why had she economized on words when every one was precious tohim? Buy that well? Of course he would, if she so earnestly desired it.But what was better by far than the prospect of a profitable purchasewas the fact of her personal interest in him. When it came to the lastline of her message, "Bob" had plunged into a ten-word riot ofextravagance.
"The bird is darling. I have named him after you."
Gray wondered if these words really meant what they seemed to imply, orif it was merely her bubbling, enthusiasm that spoke. Well, he wouldsoon find out. Already he had wasted too much time on the Briskows--aman's duty ever lies in the way of his desire--but once he had roundedup Buddy perhaps the family would be able to take care of itself. Hehoped so, for it was assuming the character of a liability.
It was late that night. The southbound flyer had gone through. TheBriskows were sitting in the pleasant parlor of their handsome suite,but they were like three mourners. Ma and Pa were soberly discussingthe news about Buddy, Allegheny was staring in somber meditation atnothing. The girl was bitter, rebellious, for never had she felt soutterly alone as at this moment. To that question which monotonouslyrepeated itself, she could form no answer. Did he care, or was it allpity--just his way?
She heard his name and her own mentioned, and she became attentive."What's that? He wants me to meet these people halfway?" she inquired."What for? I don't like 'em."
"He says you'll git to like 'em, an' they'll git to like you. He saysyou're goin' ahead tremendous, and we'll all be proud of you. Mebbeyou'll meet some nice young feller--"
"He said that, did he?" Allie's voice was sharp.
"N-not exactly, but--"
"He asked 'em to be nice to me--he fixed it all up. Is that it? I gotlots of money; some man 'll make love to me and I'll--I'll fall in lovewith him. Is that what he said?"
"He didn't put it that way. What he said was more--"
Allegheny rose with an exclamation of anger. "Well, I won't meet 'em.He'd better mind his own business."
"Why, _Allie_!" the mother exclaimed, in mild reproach.
"I won't! I hate 'em. I hate everybody. Him, with his high an' fancyways--" the girl choked. "He looks down on us the same as other folksdoes, an' I don't blame him. He acts like we was cattle, an' we are."Her own scorn appeared to whip the speaker into a higher frenzy. "Nowhe's gone off to spoil Buddy's doin's. Buttin' in, that's what it is.If I knew where Buddy is, I'd warn him. I'd tell him to look out. I'dtell him to grab his chance when it comes along, if it takes all theBriskow money, all the Briskow wells. He's lucky, Buddy is. It don'tmake any difference _who_ he took up with, if he loves her."
Never but once before had the Briskows seen their daughter in a moodlike this, and that was on the occasion of their first visit to Dallas.Now they sat numb and speechless as she raved on:
"Playin' with us to amuse himself! It's a game with him. He 'ain't gotanything better to do. Why, he even shows us how to dress! 'With atouch,' he says, 'I work miracles. I transfer--transform you fromsomething dark an'--an' common into a thing of passion.' _Passion!_What the hell does he know about passion? He's a doctor, he is, cuttin'up a live dog to see what ails it. A live dog that's tied down! Cuttin'it up--Oh, my God, I wish I was Buddy!" It was several moments afterthe door of Allie's room had slammed behind her before Gus Briskowspoke, and then it was with a deep sigh.
"I been afraid of something like this, Ma. I reckon we're goin' to paydear for our money before we get through."
"An' him with a princess in Wichita Falls!" the mother quavered.