The Furnace of Gold

  CHAPTER XII

  BOSTWICK LOSES GROUND

  The one retreat for Beth was the house where she was lodging. She wentthere at once, briefly explaining to Bostwick on the way how it chancedshe had come the day before. What had happened to himself she alreadyknew.

  Bostwick was a thoroughly angered man. He had seen the horseman in thefight and had hoped to see him slain. To find Beth safe and evencheerful here annoyed him exceedingly.

  "Have you lodged a complaint--done anything to have this fellowarrested?" he demanded, alluding to Van. "Have you reported what wasdone to me?"

  "Why, no," said Beth. "What's the use? He did it all in kindness,after all."

  "Kindness!"

  "Of a sort--a rough sort, perhaps, but genuine--a kindness to me--andElsa," she answered, flushing rosily. "He saved me from----" shelooked at the convict garb upon him, "--from a disagreeable experience,I'm sure, and secured me the very best accommodations in the town."

  They had almost come to her lodgings. Bostwick halted in the road, hisgun-metal jaw protruding formidably.

  "You haven't already begun to admire this ruffian--glorify thisoutlaw?" he growled, "--after what he did to me?"

  "Don't stop to discuss it here," she answered, beholding Mrs. Dick atthe front of the house. "I haven't had time to do anything. You mustmanage to change your clothes."

  "I'll have my reckoning with your friend," he assured her angrily."Have you engaged a suite for me?"

  They had come to the door of the house. Beth beheld the look ofamazement, suspicion, and repugnance on the face of Mrs. Dick, and herface burned red once more.

  "Oh, Mrs. Dick," she said, "this is Mr. Bostwick, of whom I spoke." Shehad told of Bostwick's capture by the convicts. "Do you think youcould find him a room?"

  "A room? I want a suite--two rooms at least," said Bostwickaggressively. "Is this a first-class place?"

  "It ain't no regular heaven, and I ain't no regular Mrs. Saint Peter,"answered Mrs. Dick with considerable heat, irritated by Bostwick'spersonality and recognizing in him Van's "smoke-faced Easterner." Sheadded crisply: "So you might as well vamoose the ranch, fer I couldn'teven put you in the shed."

  "But I've got to have accommodations!" insisted Bostwick. "I preferthem where my fiancee--where Miss Kent is stopping. I'm sure you canmanage it someway--let someone go. The price is no object to me."

  "I don't want you that bad," said Mrs. Dick frankly. "I said no andI'm too busy to say it again."

  She bustled off with her ant-like celerity, followed by Bostwick'sscowls.

  "You'll have to give up your apartments here," he said to Beth. "I'llfind something better at once."

  "Thank you, I'm very well satisfied," said Beth. "You'll find thistown quite overcrowded."

  "You mean you propose to stay here in spite of my wishes?"

  "Please don't wish anything absurd," she answered. "This is really noplace for fastidious choosing--and I am very comfortable."

  A lanky youth, with a suitcase and three leather bags, came shufflingaround the corner and dropped down his load.

  "Van told me to bring 'em here with his--something I don't remember,"imparted the youth. "That's all," and he grinned and departed.

  Bostwick glowered, less pleased than before.

  "That fellow, I presume. He evidently knows where you are stopping."

  Beth was beginning to feel annoyed and somewhat defiant. She had neverdreamed this man could appear so repellant as now, with his stubble ofbeard and this convict garb upon him. She met his glance coldly.

  "He found me the place. I am considerably in his obligation."

  Bostwick's face grew blacker.

  "Obligation? Why don't you admit at once you admire the fellow?--orsomething more. By God! I've endured about as much----"

  "Mr. Bostwick!" she interrupted. She added more quietly: "You've beenvery much aggravated. I'm sorry. Now please go somewhere and changeyour clothing."

  "Aggravated?" he echoed. "You ought to know what he is, by instinct.You must have seen him in a common street brawl! You must have seenthat woman--that red-light night-hawk throwing herself in his arms.And to think that you--with Glenmore in town---- Why isn't yourbrother here with you?"

  Beth was smarting. The sense of mortification she had felt at thesight of that woman in the street with Van, coupled with the sheeraudacity of his conduct towards herself that morning, had alreadysufficiently shamed her. She refused, however, to discuss such aquestion with Bostwick.

  "Glen isn't here," she answered coldly. "I trust you will soon beenabled to find him--then--we can go."

  "Not here?" repeated Bostwick. "Where is he, then?"

  "Somewhere out in another camp--or mining place--or something. Nowplease go and dress. We can talk it over later."

  "This is abominable of Glen," said Bostwick. "Is McCoppet in town?"

  She looked her surprise. "McCoppet?"

  "You don't know him, of course," he hastened to say. "I shall try tofind him at once." He turned to go, beheld her luggage, and added: "Isthere anyone to take up your things?"

  She could not bear to have him enter her apartment in this awful prisoncostume.

  "Oh, yes," she answered. "You needn't be bothered with the bags."

  "Very well. I shall soon return." He departed at once, his impatiencesuddenly increased by the thought of seeking out McCoppet.

  Beth watched him going. A sickening sense of revulsion invaded all hernature. And when her thoughts, like lawless rebels, stole guiltily toVan, she might almost have boxed her own tingling ears in sheervexation.

  She entered the house, summoned Elsa from her room, and had the luggagecarried to their quarters. Then she opened her case, removed somedainty finery, and vaguely wondered if the horseman would like her inold lavender.

  Van, in the meantime, had been busy at the hay-yard known as Charlie's.Not only had Algy's arm been broken, by the bully in the fight, but hehad likewise been seriously mauled and beaten. His head had been cut,he was hurt internally. A doctor, immediately summoned by thehorseman, had set the fractured member. Algy had then been put to bedin a tent that was pitched in the yard where the horses, mules, cows,pyramids of merchandise, and teamsters were thicker than flies onmolasses.

  Gettysburg and Napoleon, quietly informed by Van of the latest turn oftheir fortune, were wholly unexcited by the news. The attack on Algy,however, had acted potently upon them. They started to get drunk andachieved half a load before Van could herd them back to camp.

  Napoleon was not only partially submerged when Van effected hiscapture; he was also shaved. Van looked him over critically.

  "Nap," he said, "what does this mean?--you wasting money on your face?"

  Napoleon drunk became a stutterer, who whistled between his dischargesof seltzer.

  "Wheresh that little g-g-g-(whistle) girl?" he answered, "--lit-tleD-d-d-d-(whistle) Dutch one that looksh like--looksh like--quoth ther-r-r-r-(whistle) raven--NEVER MORE!"

  Van divined that this description was intended to indicate Elsa.

  "Gone back to China," said he. "That shave of yours is wasted on thedesert air."

  Gettysburg, whose intellect was top heavy, had the singular habit, at atime like this, of removing his crockery eye and holding it firmly inhis fist, to guard it from possible destruction. He stared uncertainlyat both his companions.

  "China!" said he tragically. "China?"

  "Hold on, now, Gett," admonished Van, steering his tall companion as aman might steer a ladder, "you don't break out in the woman line againor there's going to be some concentrated anarchy in camp."

  "No, Van, no--now honest, no woman," said Gettysburg in a confidentialmurmur. "I had my woman eye took out the last time I went down to'Frisco."

  "You're a l-l-l-(whistle) liar!" ejaculated Napoleon.

  "What!" Gettysburg fairly shrieked.

  "Metaphorical speakin'--meta phor-f-f-f-f-f-(whistle) phoricalspeakin'," Napoleon
hastened to explain."Metaphor-f-f-f-(whistle)-phorical means you don't reallym-m-m-m-(whistle) mean what you say--means--quoth ther-r-r-r-r-(whistle) raven--NEVER MORE!"

  Van said: "If you two old idiots don't do the lion and the lamb actpretty pronto I'll send you both to the poor house."

  They had entered the hay-yard, among the mules and horses. Gettysburgpromptly reached down, laid hold of Napoleon, and kissed him violentlyupon the nose.

  Napoleon wept. "What did I s-s-s-s-(whistle) say?" he sobbedlugubriously. "Oh, death, where is thy s-s-s-s-(whistle) sting?"

  Evening had come. The two fell asleep in Algy's tent, locked in eachother's arms.