CHAPTER XVII
THE GIRL IN RED
Jessamy Selden finished washing and drying the supper dishes. Then shehurried to her room and slipped into a red-silk dress, by no means outof date, silk stockings, and high-heeled pumps with large shell buckles.A few deft pats and her rich hair suited her, and the red rose glowedagainst the black distractingly. She spun round and round before themirror of her plain little dresser, one set of knuckles at her waist,like a Spanish dancer, her face trained over her shoulder at herreflection in the glass. There was a mischievous gleam in her jetty eyesas she reached the conclusion that she was all right. Just a hint ofheightened colour showed in her cheeks when she started for the livingroom.
Old Man Selden had not yet returned with the guest of the house. Thetrace of a pucker of disappointment came between her eyes, then she wasserene again as she lighted coal-oil lamps and sat down with a book. Shewas alone in the great rough-walled room, like a gorgeous flower in aweather-beaten box. Her mother was dressing--one dressed after dinnerinstead of _for_ dinner in the House of Selden. Bolar and Moffatpresumably had gone to sit and look at their saddles while daylightlasted, since coming night forbade them to mount and ride.
Minutes passed. Jessamy stared at the open book in her hands, but hadnot read a word. Why was Old Man Selden keeping their guest out there inthe night? A girlish pout which might have surprised Oliver Drew, had heseen it, puckered her lips. The girl looked down at her red-silk dressand the natty buckles on her French-heel pumps, and the pout grew morepronounced.
She went out doors, but no sound came to her save the intimate nightsounds of the wilderness.
"_Darn_ the luck!" she cried in exasperation, her serenity for oncecompletely unavailing.
Five minutes later she stepped from the gorgeous dress with a sigh ofresignation. She kicked off the pumps and pulled on her morocco-topriding boots. She donned shirt and riding skirt, and slipped out by herown door into the young night.
Cautiously she approached the stables and corrals, but found nobody.Lights gleamed in the windows of Hurlock's and Winthrop's cabins, andfrom the latter came the doleful strains of Bolar's accordion. Shedoubted if Selden and Oliver were in either of these houses.
She walked up the hill toward the spring, and presently heard the bassboom of Old Man Selden's voice.
A little later, flat on the ground, she was wriggling her way throughtall ferns toward two indistinct figures seated on a fallen pine. Likean Indian she crept on silently, till by and by she lay quite still,close enough to hear every word that passed between the men who sat infront of her. And her conscience seemed not to trouble her at all.
It had been practicable to come to a pause at some little distance fromthe two, for their voices carried a long way through the tranquilwilderness night. Behind her and up the hill the frogs were croaking atthe spring. Their horse-fiddling ceased abruptly, as if they had beensuddenly disturbed, and it was not immediately continued. Trained toread a meaning in Nature's signs, she wondered at this; then presentlyshe heard a stealthy step between her and the spring.
Lifting her head and shoulders above the fronded plants, she saw a dark,crouched shape approaching warily. Some one had walked past the springand disturbed the croaking choir. She ducked low and waitedbreathlessly, hoping that this second would-be eavesdropper, whoever hemight be, would not come upon her engaged in a like pursuit. At the sametime she was trying to hear what Selden was saying to Oliver Drew.
It seemed from Old Adam's slightly hesitating manner that he was as yetnot well launched on the subject that had caused him to pilot Oliver tothis lonely spot. He said:
"I reckon they told ye ye wouldn't be welcome down on the Old IvisonPlace. Didn't some of 'em say, now, that a gang called the Poison Oakersmight try to drive ye out?--if I'm not too bold in askin'."
"Yes," said the voice of Oliver Drew.
"Uh-huh! I thought as much. Well, Mr. Drew, ye got to make allowancesfor ol'-timers in the hills. We get set in our ways, as the fella says;and I reckon we _don't_ like outsiders to come in any too well.
"But anybody with any savvy oughta know its different in a case likeyours. Why, what little feed we'd get offen your little piece, if youwasn't there, wouldn't amount to the price of a saddle string. It wasplumb loco for any one to tell ye we'd raise a rumpus 'bout ye bein'down there."
"I thought about the same," observed Oliver Drew quietly.
There came a distinct pause in the dialogue. Once more Jessamystraightened her arms and pushed head and shoulders above the ferns. Theperson who had disturbed the frogs was nowhere to be seen. He too,perhaps, had taken up a lizardlike progress through the ferns, and wasnow listening to all that was being said by Oliver and Selden.
She flattened herself again, and held one hand behind her ear to catchevery word.
"Yes, sir, plumb loco," Old Man Selden reiterated. "And they ain't noreason on earth why you and us can't be the best o' friends. That's whatwe oughta be, seein' we're pretty near neighbours."
"I'm sure I'm perfectly willing to be friendly, Mr. Selden."
"Course ye are. Just so! An' so are we. And listen here, Mr. Drew: Don'tye put too much stock in that there Poison Oaker racket."
"I don't know that I understand that."
"Well," drawled Selden, "they ain't any such thing as a Poison OakerGang. That there's all hot air. It's true that Obed Pence and JayMuenster and Buchanan and Allegan and Foss run what cows they got withourn, and they're pretty good friends o' my boys an' me. But as fer usbein' a gang--why, they's nothin' to it. Nothin' to it a-tall! Justbecause we use a poison-oak leaf for our brand--why, that's what got 'emto callin' us the Poison Oakers. And when anything mean is done in thiscountry, why, they gotta hang it onto somebody--and as a lot of 'emdon't like me and my friends, why, they hang it onto us and call us thePoison Oakers. Now that there ain't right and just, is it, Mr. Drew?"
"When you put it that way," Oliver evaded, "I should say that it isnot."
"No, sir, it ain't--not a-tall! An' I'm glad ye understand and ain't gotno hard feelin's."
There was another long pause. Fragrant tobacco smoke floated toJessamy's nostrils.
"If I ain't too bold in askin', Mr. Drew--what was ol' Damon Tamroyfillin' yer ear with about me today?"
"He was telling me how Old Dad Sloan had spoken of your having oncedanced the fire dance."
"Uh-huh! Just so! Some o' my friends overheard Old Dad spoutin' about itafter I'd hit the feathers. Well, I don't reckon I care any. It'snothin' to try to hide. Was that all Tamroy had to say?"
Jessamy could imagine on Oliver Drew's lips the grave, half-whimsicalsmile that she had seen twitching them so often. She waited eagerly forhis reply.
"I think that the subject you mention is all that he talked to meabout," it came at last.
"Just so! Just so!" muttered Selden. "But didn't he say as how othershad danced the fire dance besides me and you?"
"Yes, he mentioned others."
"Just so! And who, now--if I ain't too bold in askin'."
"Let me see," said Oliver after a pause. "Some other man's name wasmentioned. A short name, if I remember correctly."
"Uh-huh! Plumb forget her, eh?"
"It seems to me it was Smeed, or something like that. Yes--Dan Smeed."
Silence. Again tobacco smoke was wafted over the ferns.
"Dan Smeed, eh?" ruminated Selden finally. "Mr. Drew, did ye ever hearthat name before Damon Tamroy said it to ye?"
Another thoughtful intermission; then--
"Yes, I had heard it before."
"Just so! Just so! And if I ain't too bold in askin'--just where, Mr.Drew?"
"Why, I heard it first from Old Dad Sloan himself. Miss Selden and Irode over to his cabin one morning, and we got him to talking of thedays of 'Forty-nine. He can be quite interesting when he doesn'twander."
"Uh-huh! And ye say ye heard the name Dan Smeed over to Old Dad Sloan'sfer the first time?"
"Yes, sir."
"_The first
time in yer life, Mr. Drew?_"
"Yes. I had never heard of it until then."
A short, low snort from Selden. Jessamy knew it well. It signified: "Idon't believe you!"
Said Selden presently: "Well, then, I'm gonta put another question toye, Mr. Drew. I don't want ye to think I'm tryin' to butt in, as thefella says. But s'long's Tamroy was talkin' about me, I reckon it'sright an' just that I should be interested. Now, what did Tamroy tell yeOld Dad Sloan had to say 'bout this here Dan Smeed and _me_?"
"He said that you and Dan Smeed were one time partners."
"Oh! Uh-huh! Just so! Partners, eh? And was that the first time ye everheard that, Mr. Drew?"
"Yes, the first time," said Oliver patiently.
Again that peculiar little snort of Selden.
"How ye gettin' along down to the Old Ivison Place, Mr. Drew?" wasSelden's abrupt shift of the conversation.
"Oh, my garden is fine. And I have two colonies of bees storing up honeyfor me. Besides, I've located another colony up in the hills, and willget them as soon as I can get around to it."
"But ye can't live on garden truck an' honey!"
"I suppose I should have some locusts to go along with them," laughedOliver; but his flight was lost on Old Man Selden. "You forget, though,"the speaker added, "that I am writing for farm journals. I've sold threelittle articles since I settled down there. I'll get along, if my luckholds out."
"Oh, yes--ye'll get along. I ain't worryin' 'bout that. I'll bet yecould draw a check right this minute that'd pay fer every acre o' land'tween here an' Calamity Gap."
"I'll bet I couldn't!" Oliver positively denied.
Old Man Selden chuckled craftily. "Ye're pretty foxy, Mr. Drew--prettyfoxy!" He had lowered his deep tones until Jessamy could barelydistinguish words. "Yes, sir--_mighty_ foxy! A garden an' bees an'writin' for a story paper, eh? Oh, ye'll get along. I'll tell a manye'll get along!"
"I really have no other source of revenue, Mr. Selden."
"Just so! I understand. Well, Mr. Drew, maybe I been a mite too bold;but I'll step in another inch or two and say this: When ye need any helpdown there on the Old Ivison Place, just send word to Dan Smeed'spartner. D'ye understand?"
"I thank you, I'm sure," Oliver told him dryly. "But really I don'tthink I'll need any help. My garden is so small that--"
"Just so! Still, ye never can tell when a foxy fella like you'll needhelp. And Dan Smeed's partner'll be always ready to help. Just rememberthat."
"Help with what?" asked Oliver testingly.
"In watchin' the dead," was Selden's surprising answer, spoken in acrafty half-whisper.
"In watching the dead!" cried his listener. "Why, I--"
"Le's go in to the womenfolks now," interrupted Selden. "And keepthinkin' over this, Mr. Drew. Always ready to help--d'ye savvy? Anddon't ye pay no attention to that there supposed gang that they call thePoison Oakers. They ain't no such gang. But if anybody does try tobother ye, tell me. Get me? Tell Dan Smeed's partner. He'll help yewatch the dead."
"You're talking in riddles," Oliver snorted. "I don't understand--"
"Oh, yes, ye do! Ye savvy, all right. Ye're foxy, Mr. Drew. I'll say nomore just now. But when ye need my help...."
Their voices trailed off.
Once again the girl's supple body rose from the hips, and she searchedthe ferns on every side. For several minutes she lay quite still in thesame position. Then, perhaps fifty feet on her left, a head rose abovethe tall fronds, and then a body followed it. Next instant a dark figurewas hurrying back toward the spring.
Jessamy waited until sight and sound of it were no more, then rose andran with all her might toward the house.
She slipped in at her private door, hustled out of her clothes, andbegan donning her gorgeous red dress again.
"So Old Man Selden always shoots straight from the shoulder,eh?" she muttered. "Piffle! When he wants to be he's a regularBarkis-is-willin'!"
In the midst of her dressing her mother tapped.
"Jessamy, where have you been?" she asked. "Mr. Selden and Mr. Drew arein the living room now. I've knocked twice, but you didn't answer."
"I was outdoors," Jessamy replied. "I'm dressing now. I'll be rightout."
And a minute or two later Oliver Drew gasped and his blue eyes grew wideas a silk-garbed figure, with a red rose in her raven hair, glidedtoward him.
Yea, even as the girl in red had planned that he should gasp!