XXI.

  CARSON'S BLANK PAGES IN LIFE.

  When Carson left the cabin he followed the winding trail that led tothe valley below. The road to Saguache showed the hoofprints of aprospector's outfit, and the marks of a sleigh leading to Del Norte.The glare of the sun on the reflected snow was blinding and he drewhis hat down over his eyes. He was thinking of his worthless lifesince leaving college. Once he had builded lofty hopes of futuredoings in the world, but he had allowed himself to drift; his ship offate had gone wherever the strongest tide wind carried. He saw nowthat he might have marked out some honorable career and piloted hiscourse toward it. Others of his class in college were in a fair way tomake their mark in the world. Why was it not so with him? It was bornin him, as it had been in his father, to choose the wild life of thefrontier in preference to holding the presidency of a bank in Atlanta.He felt that the world in its wildest freedom was his for hispleasure. The cords of restraint which society demanded were to himthe fetters of a tyrant ruler, and so, as Sampson broke the greenwithes which bound him, Carson broke the laws of society--naycivilization, and married a squaw according to the ceremony of herpeople. He repented the act to some extent, and then cast his caresaside, with the comforting knowledge that the world was too busy aplace for people to give themselves much concern over his affairs.Long ago he realized that if he threw himself into the swirl ofhumanity and allowed himself to become a part of its motives and itsemotions, that it would require a herculean effort to attain aposition where he could look over the heads of other men. Thatposition, he argued, was not worth the life-long effort required.Withal, he could not bring himself to quite understand why he hadmarried Mary Greenwater, unless that she possessed some occult powerand gained control over forces of his nature which he did notunderstand. True, there was but little or no obligation to theceremony. It held good in the Cherokee Indian nation, that governmentwithin a government. Outside that limited space of ground it was nulland void. He was a free man under the laws of his own government. Yetthat act, of his own creation, somehow seemed to stand over him like aFrankenstein with an uplifted axe.

  The snow was deep, and as he plodded along with these thoughts runningthrough his mind, he heard a cry. Glancing backwards he saw a horsedrawing a sleigh, plunging madly down the road. The reins were held bya woman, frantically urging the horse forward. Some distance behindfour huge mountain lions were in hot pursuit, their heavy bodiescrouching and springing forward many feet at a leap. Carson took inthe situation at a glance and, raising his hand as a signal to thegirl in the sleigh to rein in, he sprang into the vehicle as shepassed. The momentary pause had given the beasts a chance to gain,when, drawing his revolver, he fired at the foremost and sent itrolling in the snow. Another shot and a second lion paused with amighty roar. At this the other two turned and fled in the oppositedirection.

  Carson now took the reins and stopped the horse. The animal wastrembling with fright, while the girl was calm but pale.

  "Rather a close shave, eh, Sis?"

  "Truly," she replied, "how fortunate you were here. I was drivingto Del Norte when I met the lions. They were gamboling in thesnow like kittens. When I turned Bess, they pursued. I want theone you have just killed, I want to have him mounted to remembertoday,--and--and--you."

  "By all means, Miss, you shall have it, but where are you going now?"

  "Back to Saguache after this fright. Poor Old Bess could not havestood the race much farther. See how she trembles. I am the niece ofMr. Amos. My name is Annie Amos. I have friends in Del Norte, whom Iintended to visit. I shall wait now until I have an escort."

  "Ah--my name is Carson--Jack Carson. I was going to Saguache to seeMr. Amos, the assayer, to have him test a jug handle,--er, that is, tohave the jug handle test him. I don't mean that; I mean our mine isnamed the Jug Handle, I will get it right after awhile, and I want himto make a test of the ore."

  "Confound it," he thought as he turned the horse, "I haven't the senseof a jackrabbit to make a break like that."

  One of the lions lay pawing the snow in its death struggle and asCarson came near, it reared itself as if to make one last leap. Itseyes gleamed in savage yellow, foam fell in flecks from its mouth,while a tiny stream of crimson stained the snow. Carson's weapon spitfire and the creature rolled over motionless. He dragged the carcassto the end of the sleigh and, lifting it upon the edge of the box,made it fast.

  "If you are going to Saguache to see my uncle, I fear you will bedisappointed as he left this morning for an absence of several days."

  "That does not matter as I have other business anyway. Most any timewill do, as I am in town quite often. We would better not drive sofast. Your horse is in a foam."

  Carson was fast becoming interested in the girl at his side. Her calmpoise, after the exciting adventures with the mountain lions,surprised him. Other women would have been hysterical, but here by hisside sat a girl not yet out of her teens, as calm and collected as aveteran soldier after the battle. And Amos, the man he was going tosee and intended to kill if he proved to be the villain he suspectedhim to be, was her uncle.

  The white billows rose rank on rank on the distant mountains, whilethe snow of the valley shrunk visibly away, leaving the grey rocksnaked and protuberant.

  The newly-made acquaintances chatted gaily as the horse jogged along.

  "I was thinking of your remark awhile ago," said Carson, "that youwould go to Del Norte tomorrow if you had an escort, and as I havesome time to idle away it would give me pleasure to drive you over."

  "It would give me equal pleasure to have you do so," she replied withadmirable frankness, "that is, if you are going there anyway."

  "I may need to purchase some new implements with which to work theAberdeen--I mean the Jug Handle mine," he explained. "I have heard ofa new drill they are working over there and it may be just the thingfor the formation we are now in."

  "I see," said the girl, as a mischievous smile flitted about her lips,"and I am very glad you will accompany me. I shall make you acquaintedwith some of my very dear friends."

  Carson was forgetting his millions in the mine and letting his mindwander to the expected joys of entertaining and being entertained bypeople of real worth once more. He felt returning pride, and then thethought of the Frankenstein with the uplifted axe made him groaninwardly. But pshaw! she did not know--never would know, and whatpeople do not know will not hurt them, he reasoned.

  He felt an increasing admiration for the girl beside him. They werealone in the wide expanse of valley and had known each other only anhour, yet this girl was willing to trust to his honor and manhood. Andbe it said for Carson, as it may be said for thousands of other men onthe American frontier, he would have yielded his life rather thanbetray that sacred trust. Instances like this are common in the West.

  As they drove down the main street of Saguache, the passers lookedcuriously at the pair in the sleigh and at the dead lion strappedbehind. When they stopped in front of the postoffice, a crowd gatheredaround the sleigh. A supple figure edged through the crowd andaddressed the girl:

  "Kill it all by yourself, Annie?"

  The familiarity with which he spoke nettled the girl, and she turnedher head without answering. The supple figure felt the rebuff and allthe more because others noticed it. He stood his ground, however,until Carson returned and when he saw his face he quickly drew out ofsight.

  "Tomorrow at seven," said Carson, as he bade her good-bye at herhouse.

  Carson went to his hotel with a lighter heart than he had had formonths. He lit a cigar and sat by the window, then felt for somethingin his pocket, and threw it in the wood-box. "There are other jughandles," he said to himself.

  He walked the streets aimlessly until supper. He retired early andtried to sleep, but his thoughts ran wild on the events of the day. Hecould think of no one except Annie. It was still early in the night,when he arose from a restless bed and went out on the streets. Lightsblazed from the Lone Tree saloon, and as he entered he saw a crow
dabout the faro table. The sudden exclamations of many voices toldthat some one was winning heavily. He pressed forward through thecrowd and saw the form of a woman. When she partially turned her face,he felt his heart give a great throb, and he fled into the street.

  The remainder of the night he walked through the crunching snow, whilethe silent stars seemed to gaze with tearful eyes upon him in this,the greatest misery he had ever known. He walked several miles out oftown to avoid meeting anyone he knew and then presented himself at theAmos residence.

  "I believe it is seven o'clock, Miss Annie," he said, when sheanswered his call.

  "Yes, and I am ready," was the cheerful answer.

 
Robert McReynolds's Novels