NAN ESCAPES.
All night long Gypsy Nan, on the back of her small horse Binnie climbed
the steep mountain road, a full moon far over her head transforming
everything about her to shimmering silver.
A bundle tied in a beautiful shawl of scarlet and gold contained all that
belonged to her and food enough to last for several days.
Nan was on the ridge of a mountain road when the sun rose, and to her joy
saw the village of San Seritos lying in the valley below, and beyond was
the gleaming blue sea.
She drew rein and gazed ahead wondering where she should go, when her
ears, trained to notice all of nature's sounds, heard the startled cry of
some little ground animal. Dismounting, she bent over the place from
which the sound had come and saw an evil-eyed rattle-snake about to
spring upon a squirrel that seemed powerless to get away.
Nan, whose heart was always filled with pity for creatures that were weak
and helpless, threw a rock at the snake which glided into the underbrush.
Then she lifted the squirrel, feeling its heart pounding against her
hand. She carried the little thing across the road and placed it on an
overhanging limb of a live oak tree.
"There now! Nan's given you a chance to get away from the snake. That's
what Anselo Spico is, a rattle-snake, an' I'm trying to get away."
She was about to mount on her pony when she again paused and listened
intently. This time she heard the galloping of a horse. Peering through
the trees, back of her, she saw a black pony and its rider fairly
plunging down the rough road on the opposite side of the canyon she had
just crossed. In half an hour, perhaps less, that horse and rider would
reach the spot where she was standing.
Nan's fears were realized. She was being pursued. The rider she knew even
at that distance, to be Vestor, a cruel man who would do anything his
master Anselo Spico commanded.
Where could she hide? It would have been easier if she had been alone,
but it would not be a simple matter to conceal the pony. Mounting, the
girl raced ahead. A turn in the mountain road brought her to a ranch. It
was so very early that no one was astir. Riding in and trusting to fate
to protect her, she went at once to a great barn and seeing a stack of
hay in one corner, she wedged her pony back of it and stood, scarcely
breathing, waiting for, she knew not what, to happen.
But, although the moments dragged into an hour, no one came. At last,
unable to endure the suspense longer, the girl slipped from her
hiding-place, and, keeping close to the wall of the old barn she sidled
slowly toward a wide door. She heard voices not far away.
"You ain't seen nothing of a black-haired wench in a yellar an' red
dress?"
It was Vestor speaking and it was quite evident that he was snarling
angry. Nan peered through a knot-hole, her heart beating tempestuously.
The gypsy's gimlet-like black eyes were keeping a sharp lookout all about
him as he talked. The rancher's back was toward the girl. He, at first,
quietly replied, but when Vestor took a step toward the barn, saying he'd
take a look around himself, the brawny rancher caught his arm, whirled
him about and pointed toward the road. "I'll have none of _your_ kind
prowlin' about _my_ place. You'd lake a look, all right, but I reckon
you'd take everything else that wa'n't held down wi' a ton of rock.
"I know the thievin', lying lot of you. I'd as soon shoot one of you down
as I would a skunk, an' sooner, if 'twant for the law upholding of you,
though gosh knows why it does." Then, as Vestor kept looking intently at
the open barn door, the rancher, infuriated by the man's doggedly
remaining when he had been told to be off, sprang toward a wagon,
snatched a whip and began to lash the gypsy about the legs.
With cries of pain, Vestor turned an ugly visage toward the rancher, but
meeting only determination and equal hatred, he thought better of his
attempt to spring at him, turned, went to his black pony, mounted it and
rode rapidly back the way he had come.
He didn't want to be too far behind the caravan fearing that the gorigo
police might take _him_ up and put him in jail on Anselo's offense.
The rancher stood perfectly still for sometime after the gypsy had ridden
away, then he also turned and looked toward the barn. Nan had at once
sidled to her place back of the hay stack and so she did not see that he
slowly walked that way.
Stopping in the door he listened intently. Then shrugging his shoulders,
he went into the house to his breakfast. Half an hour later he again
sauntered to the barn door. "Gal," he called. "Hi, there, you gypsy gal!
That black soul'd critter's gone this long while. Don't be afeard to come
out. Ma's waitin' to give you some breakfast."
Surely Nan could trust a voice so kindly. Timidly she appeared, leading
the pony who was munching a mouthful of hay. The rancher smiled at the
girl in a way to set her fears at rest, at least as far as he was
concerned, but once out in the open she glanced around wildly.--"Where is
he? Where's that Vestor gone? Will he be back?"
For answer, the rancher motioned the girl to follow him. He led her to a
high peak back of the barn. "You kin see from here to all sides," he
said: "You lie low, sort of, behind that big rock an' keep watchin'. The
scoundrel rode off that a-way. If he keep's a goin', you'll see him soon.
If he turned back, well, I'll let out the dogs." Nan did as she had been
told and from that high position, she soon saw, far across the canyon,
riding rapidly to the south, the black pony bearing the man she feared.
She rose greatly relieved. "He's gone sure enough, Vestor has." Then,
suspiciously she turned toward the man. "How did you know where I was?"
"I saw you go in," the rancher told her, "an' I was settin' outside
waitin for you to come out with whatever 'twas, you'd gone in to steal."
A dark red mantled the girl's face, and she said in a low voice. "I don't
steal an' I don't lie, but he does." She jerked her head in the direction
Vestor had taken. "So do the rest, mostly, but, they don't all. Manna Lou
don't steal and she don't lie. She fetched me up not to."
The girl's dark eyes looked into the penetrating grey eyes of the rancher
with such a direct gaze that he believed her.
A woman appeared on the back porch and called to them. "Fetch the gal in
for a bite of breakfast if she ain't too wild like."
"Thanks, but I don't want any breakfast," Nan said. Then, noting that
Binnie was still chewing on the hay he had pulled from the stack, she
added,--"I haven't any money, or I'd pay for what he's had. I couldn't
keep him from eating it."
"Of course you couldn't, gal," the rancher said kindly. Then, as he saw
that the girl was determined to mount her pony and ride away, he
asked--"Where are you going to? I don't have to ask _what_ you're running
away from? I _know_ that purty well."
The girl shook her head and without a smile, she again said "Thanks."
Then, quite unexpectedly, for the man had seen her make no sign, the pony
broke into a run and she was gone.