Bunch Grass Part 58

Jeff explained. While describing his misadventure he decided that Bud could not be a party to the father's crime. Sillett asked for permission to examine the wounded leg Presently he asked Jeff to stand up.

"Oh, Dad!" protested Bud.

Jeff obeyed, glad to discover that he could stand upon the injured foot.

"Same thing happened to me once," Sillett remarked. "The tight boot caused more than half the trouble. Sit down, Mr.----?"

"Wells. Jefferson Wells."

"Thank you. My name is--of no service to you. And this is my daughter --Sarah. Run away, Sadie."

Jeff, watching the daughter, thought her confusion the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

"You are a cowboy, I presume?" said Sillett, as Bud disappeared. Not waiting for Jeff's answer, he went on fluently: "I'm sure I can trust you; you have an honest face, sir. I'm collecting certain plants and b.u.t.terflies, but--I have other reasons for camping out. My daughter has played the boy, because a boy is safe in these wild hills; an unprotected girl might be molested. We will do what we can for you.

You, I am sure, will respect this confidence."

Sillett played his trumps boldly, not knowing that he was speaking to a deputy-sheriff. Jeff said nothing. Sillett, after asking if the horse had been fed and watered, followed his daughter into the hut.

Jeff groaned to himself. "Mighty soon I'll be wis.h.i.+ng I'd never been born!"

However, a.s.sured that he was alone, he carefully examined his six- shooter, and began to reckon what chances there were for and against arresting Sillett single-handed. Ordinarily, he was quick enough at such calculations, but Bud introduced confusion into every sum. "I'm in an awful hole," reflected the unhappy Jeff.

The hole became a bottomless pit when Bud appeared in a pretty linen frock, and asked him demurely how he fared.

"You're looking worse," she said.

Changing her dress, she had cast off with the rough overalls such rugosities of manner, speech, and intonation as belonged to the ragam.u.f.fin of the foothills. Poor Jeff a.s.sumed his "society" manner and accent.

"If I'd only known," he began lamely.

"You never suspected?"

A note of anxiety escaped Jeff's ears.

"N-n-no. Of course not. Why, think how I handled you."

Sadie blushed.

"I'll forget everything," she whispered, showing a couple of dimples, "and we'll begin all over again, Mr.--Wells."

His confusion, which she attributed to bashfulness, encouraged the shameless coquette to add: "Maybe you liked me better as Bud?" Jeff was scarlet as he replied: "I liked Bud first-rate, but Bud'll remember what I said about his sister." Then he quite spoiled the effect of this happy phrase by adding hurriedly: "Say, I'd just as lief you didn't tell your father that I am a deputy-sheriff."

Sadie raised her dark brows.

"I thought you were so proud of that."

"I tooted my own horn, like a tenderfoot."

"But I liked what you said, Mr. Wells. That's the part I shan't forget. About doing your duty, you know. Dad would like that too. He's done his duty, has Dad--always."

"I'll allow he's done his duty by you."

She laughed gaily; then, seeing with a woman's quick eyes that the man was in pain, she said for the second time, "I know you're feeling worse, Mr. Wells."

A wiser than Jeff would have a.s.sented to this. Jeff rose hastily and walked a few paces.

"I'm most well," he declared irritably.

"Then what ails you?"

Jeff sat down again, smiling nervously.

"Well, Miss Sadie, I was thinking of the cruellest thing in this cruel world."

"My! What's that?"

"Why do the innocent suffer for the sins o' the guilty?"

"You do fly the track." She paused, gazing first at Jeff's troubled face, and then at the scene about them. The enchantress, Spring, had touched all things with her magical fingers The time had come when

"Half of the world a bridegroom is, And half of the world a bride."

Very soon--within a month at most--the creek which ran so joyfully to the great ocean yonder would have run altogether out of sight, leaving a parched and desolate watercourse in its place. The gra.s.s, now a vivid green, bespangled with brilliant poppies, would fade into premature age and ugliness. The trees would have a.s.sumed the dust- covered livery of summer. The birds would be mute.

Sadie shrugged, protestingly, her slender shoulders.

"Suppose we talk of something else this lovely day?"

But Jeff paid no attention. In a crude, boyish fas.h.i.+on he had come to a decision.

"Shall I tell you a story?"

"Oh, please!"

"It happened to a friend of mine, a man I knew real well."

"A love story, Mr. Wells?"

"There's love in it, Miss Sadie."

"I'm glad of that."

"This man, my friend, he was a brother deputy o' mine, came to be twenty-six without ever falling in love."

"My! He must have been hard-hearted--your friend."

"Mebbee. Well, one fine day he met his mate----"

"What was she like?"