“He allee time makum heap tlouble Half Box,” explained Wing Lee to the
girl, the words rushing out in a burst of sing-song eloquence, as though
to justify his action to her. “He no ’flaid. No matter big man, little
man, quick man, slow man, allee same, he fixum. One man already he
shootum, one man stickum glove in mouth no talkum. He heap smart man. He
allee samee one piecee fliend.”
With which introduction he dropped the curtain and was gone.
“Sit down, Black Barr,” said the girl. “I am Mattie Bevans. I take it
that we’re both pleased to meet each other, so we can eliminate all
those preliminary formalities. I also take it that you’re not overly
pleased at having Wing Lee catapult you into the mess that I’m in, so
we’ll just forget that. With Wing Lee a man who is unfriendly to the
Half Box or the Flying M must be a friend of mine since I’m fighting
both of them.”
I watched her closely. She had received the benefit of a college
education somewhere. Her poise, the diction of her words, her easy
manner showed her training, her education. Now that there was no trace
of emotion on her face, it was almost impossible to detect the slight
strain of Indian blood which had become noticeable when she was excited,
had become apparent through her very immobility of expression.
“When I last sought to have words with you, you sent a few rifle shots
at me,” I remarked, exhibiting the brim of my hat.
Instantly her eyes hardened, and the lips seemed to take on that
peculiar, expressionless set.
“You were there at the burning?” and the coppery tint showed once more
in her skin, while one hand dropped below the level of the table.
“I was there shortly afterward. I was awakened by the red glow and came
to see if I could be of any assistance. In my position one does not
sleep within buildings, but out in the open, and at a different place
each night. I saw you while you were ... er ... dancing.”
Her hand came up from under the table, and her mouth softened slightly
although the coppery tinge deepened.
“And you were shocked to find a girl with hardly any clothes on dancing
around the burning building?”
There was something hostile in the tone.
“Miss Bevans, I have lived much. I have hated much, and I have fought
much. There are times when rage requires some physical outlet. The more
overwhelming the odds, the more necessity for deferred action, the more
need there is for physical expression of rage. And then again, it was a
ceremonial dance. I have seen it before—once.”
Her hand abruptly came across the table and rested on my own.
“Black Barr, thank you. Thank you for understanding. I am part Indian,
and I am proud of it. That was the dance of revenge, and I needed to
dance it or go mad. My uncle and I located that homestead. It was ours,
our title never questioned, until we sunk a well. Then it appeared that
a narrow belt of artesian water ran along the place, down from the
canyon. Artesian water is more precious than gold in this country.
Immediately both of the big cattle camps claimed that the homestead was
within the lines of their survey. They took us into court, hired crooked
surveyors, bribed witnesses, and finally, tried to run us out of the
country, to burn the place, to obtain possession. My uncle was killed
two nights ago, and then they thought they had me, but I stuck it out,
put up the best fight I could.
“This afternoon I disposed of the Flying M. The Half Box is another
matter. Ed Boswell has built up his land holdings by dirty work. He is a
land grabber, a ranch pirate, and he knows no mercy. He keeps himself
surrounded by gunfighters. Let a man get a reputation for being a
killer, and immediately Ed Boswell hears of it, searches him out, gives
him a bonus to come to work for the Half Box.”
The curtain was thrust back and Wing Lee began to deposit platters
containing such viands as I hardly believed could exist in this remote
section. He had evidently been cooking all afternoon.
The girl rewarded him with a swift smile. I said nothing, realizing that
I was merely an incidental guest.
“Wing Lee has been a jewel,” she said. “He was our cook at one time, and
he has the loyalty of the Chinese, a loyalty that cannot be purchased or
destroyed.”