That Girl Montana Part 28

"For Max, you said. Well, maybe I am a little more stupid than usual to-night, but I must own up I can't see how a favor to 'Tana could affect Max very much."

"You do not?"

"I tell you so," said Overton curtly, not liking the knowing smile in the eyes of the speaker. He did not want to be there talking to him, anyway.

To walk alone under the stars was better than the discord of a voice unpleasant. Under the stars she had come to him that once--once, when she had been clasped close--close! when she had whispered words near to his heart, and their hands had touched in the magnetism of troubled joy. Ah!

it was best to remember that, though death itself follow after! A short, impatient sigh touched his lips as he tried to listen to the words of the stranger while his thoughts were elsewhere.

"And Seldon would do something very handsome for Max if he married to suit him," Haydon was saying, thoughtfully. "Seldon has no children, you know, and if this girl was sent to school for a while, I think it would come out all right--all right. I would take a personal interest to the extent of talking to Seldon of it. He will think it a queer place for Max to come for a wife; but when--when I talk to him, he will agree. Yes, I can promise it will be all right."

"What are you talking of?" demanded Overton, blankly. He had not heard one-half of a very carefully worded idea of Mr. Haydon's. "Max married! To whom?"

"You are not a very flattering listener," remarked the other, dryly, "and don't show much interest in the love affairs of your _protegee_; but it was of her I was speaking."

"You--you would try to marry her to Max Lyster--marry her!" and his voice sounded in his own ears as strange and far away.

"Well, it is not an unusual prophecy to make of a young girl, is it?"

asked Mr. Haydon, with an attempt to be jocular. "And I don't know where she could find a better young fellow. From his discourses concerning her on our journey here and his evident devotion since our arrival, I fancy the idea is not so new to him as it seems to be to you, Mr. Overton."

"Nonsense! when she is well, they quarrel as often as they agree--oftener."

"That is no proof that he is not in love with her--and why not? She is a pretty girl, a bright girl, he says, and of good people--"

"He knows nothing about her people," interrupted Overton.

"But you do?"

"I know all it has been necessary for me to know," and, in spite of himself, he could not speak of 'Tana to this man without a feeling of anger at his persistence. "But I can't help being rather surprised, Mr.

Haydon, that you should so quickly agree that a wise thing for your partner's nephew to do is to turn from all the cultured, intelligent girls he must know, and look for a wife among the mining camps of the Kootenai hills. And, considering the fact that you approve of it, without ever having heard her speak, without knowing in the least who or what her family have been--I must say it is an extraordinarily impulsive thing for a man of your reputation to do--a cool-headed, conservative business man."

Mr. Haydon found himself scrutinized very closely, very coldly by the ranger, who had all the evening kept away from him, and whom he had mentally jotted down as a big, careless, improvident prospector, untaught and a bit uncouth.

But his words were not uncouth as he launched them at the older man, and he was no longer careless as he watched the perturbation with which they were received. But Haydon shrugged his shoulders and attempted to look indifferent.

"I remarked just now that this was a land of astonis.h.i.+ng things," he said, with a tolerant air, "and it surely is so when the most depraved-looking redskin is allowed admittance to a white girl's chamber, while the most harmless of Caucasians is looked on with suspicion if he merely shows a little human interest in her welfare."

"Akkomi is a friend of her own choosing," answered Overton, "and a friend who would be found trusty if he was needed. As to you--you have no right, that I know of, to a.s.sume any direction of her affairs. She will choose her own friends--and her own husband--when she wants them. But while she is sick and helpless, she is under my care, and even though you were her father himself, your ideas should not influence her future unless she approved you."

With a feeling of relief he turned away, glad to have in some way given vent to the irritation awakened in him by the prosperous gentleman from civilization.

The prosperous gentleman saw his form grow dim in the starlight, and though his face flushed angrily at first, the annoyance gave place to a certain satisfaction as he seated himself on a log by the fire, and repeated Overton's final words:

"_'Even though you were her father himself_!' Well, well, Mr. Overton!

Your uncivil words have told me more than you intended--namely, that your own knowledge as to who her father was, or is, seems very slight. So much the better, for one of your unconventional order is not the sort of person I should care to have know. 'Even though you were her father himself.'

Humph! So he does me the doubtful honor to suppose I may be? It is a nasty muddle all through. I never dreamed of walking into such a net as this.

But something must be done, and that is clear; no use trying to s.h.i.+rk it, for Seldon is sure to run across them sooner or later up here--sure. And if he took a hand in it--as he would the minute he saw her--well, I could not count on his being quiet about it, either. I've thought it all out this evening. I've got to get her away myself--get her to school, get her to marry Max, and all so quietly that there sha'n't be any social sensation about her advent into the family. I hardly know whether this wealth they talk of will be a help or a hindrance; a help, I suppose. And there need not be any hitch in the whole affair if the girl is only reasonable and this autocratic ranger can be ignored or bought over to silence. It would be very annoying to have such family affairs talked of--annoying to the girl, also, when she lives among people who object to scandals. Gad! how her face did strike me! I felt as if I had seen a ghost. And that cursed Indian!"

Altogether, Mr. Haydon had considerable food for reflection, and much of it was decidedly annoying; or so it seemed to Akkomi, who lay in the shadow and looked like a body asleep, as were the others. But from a fold of his blanket he could see plainly the face of the stranger and note the perplexity in it.

The first tender flush of early day was making the stars dim when the doctor met Overton between the tents and the cabins, and surveyed him critically from his slouch hat to his boots, on which were splashes of water and fresh loam.

"What, in the name of all that's infernal, has taken possession of you, Overton?" he demanded, with a.s.sumed anger and real concern. "You have not been in bed all night. I know, for I've been to your tent. You prowl somewhere in the woods when you ought to be in bed, and you are looking like a ghost of yourself."

"Oh, I guess I'll last a day or two yet, so quit your growling; you think you'll scare me into asking for some of your medicines; but that is where you will find yourself beautifully left. I prefer a natural death."

"And you will find it, too, if you don't mend your ways," retorted the man of the medicines. "I thought at first it was the care of 'Tana that kept you awake every hour of every night; but I see it is just the same now when there are plenty to take your place; worse--for now you go tramping, G.o.d only knows where, and come back looking tired, as though you had been racing with the devil."

"You haven't told me how she is," was all the answer he made to this tirade. "You said--that by daylight--"

"There would be a change--yes, and there is; only a shadow of a change as yet, but the shadow leans the right way."

"The _right_ way," he half whispered, and walked on toward her cabin. He felt dizzy and the tears crept up in his eyes, and he forgot the doctor, who looked after him and muttered statements damaging to Dan's sanity.

All the long night he had fought with himself to keep away, to let the others care for her--the others, who fancied they were giving him a wished-for rest. And all the while the desire of his heart was to bar them out--to wait, alone with her, for the life or death that was to come. He had walked miles in his restlessness, but could not have found again the paths he walked over. He had talked with some of the people who were wakeful in the night, but could scarce have told of any words he had said.

He had felt dazed by the dread of what the new day would bring, and now he looked up at the morning star with a great thankfulness in his heart. The new day had come, and with it a breath of hope.

Miss Lavina met him at the door, and whispered that the doctor thought the fever had taken the hoped-for turn for the better. 'Tana had opened her eyes but a moment before, and looked at Miss Sloc.u.m wonderingly, but fell asleep again; she had looked rational, but very weak.

"Well, old fellow, I am proud of myself," said Lyster, as Overton entered.

"It took Miss Sloc.u.m and me only one night to bring 'Tana around several degrees nearer health. We are the nurses! And if she only wakes conscious--"

His words, or else the intense, wistful gaze of the man at the foot of the bed, must have aroused her, for she moved and opened her eyes and looked around aimlessly, pa.s.sing over the faces of Miss Sloc.u.m, of the squaw, and of Overton, until Lyster, close beside her, whispered her name. Then her lips curved ever so little in a smile as her eyes met his.

"Max!" she said, and put out her hand to him. As his fingers clasped it, she turned her face toward him, and fell contentedly asleep again, with her cheek against his hand.

And Mr. Haydon, who came in with the doctor a moment later, glanced at the picture they made, and smiled meaningly at Overton.

"You see, I was right," he observed. "And do you not think it would be a very exacting guardian who could object?"

Overton only looked at Max, whose face had flushed a little, knowing how significant his att.i.tude must appear to others. But his hand remained in hers, and his eyes turned to Dan with a half embarra.s.sed confession in them--a confession Dan read and understood.

"Yes, you may well be proud, Max," he said, answering Lyster's words. "You deserve all grat.i.tude; and I hope--I hope nothing but good luck will come your way."

Mr. Haydon, who watched him with critical eyes, could read nothing in his words but kindliest concern for a friend.

The doctor, who had suddenly got a ridiculous idea in his head that Dan Overton was wearing himself out on 'Tana's account, changed his mind and silently called himself a fool. He might have known Dan had more sense than that. Yet, what was it that had changed him so?

Twenty-four hours later he thought he knew.

CHAPTER XVII.

MISS SLOc.u.m'S IDEAS REGARDING DEPORTMENT.

"So it was a gold mine that dragged you people up into this wilderness?

Well, I've puzzled my mind a good deal to understand your movements lately; but the finding of a vein as rich as your free gold promises is enough to turn any man's head for a while. Well, well; you are a lucky fellow, Overton."