Brockton leaned over the balustrade trying, through the increasing
dusk, to catch a glimpse of the girl's slender form, as in her light
summer gown she flitted among the trees. The autumn afternoon was now
far advanced. The shadows of approaching night were already falling
across the Pass. The golden glow that tinged the distant snow-clad
peaks grew deeper in color. The lights were rapidly fading to beautiful
opalescent hues.
It was only by the exercise of the greatest self-control that the
broker had retained his composure. What the girl had just told him was
a staggering and unexpected blow. Underneath the man's stolid,
business-like manner, there was a big heart. He was selfish and
comfort-loving, like most men of his class and opportunities, but he
was far from being as callous and blase as he pretended. He had grown
to be very fond of Laura. He knew that up to this time and during her
whole career he was the first man who had had any real influence over
her. Since the day when they first became pals, he had always
dominated, and while his moral teaching left much to be desired, he had
always endeavored to keep her semi-respectable in the bohemian,
unconventional kind of life she had elected to lead. His coming all the
way from New York to Denver to accompany her home--for the business at
Kansas City was, of course, only a pleasant fiction--was proof of his
keen interest in the girl. And what a disappointment awaited him! He
had come after her, only to find that she had drifted away from him.
What perhaps made matters worse, he could not in the least object to
the manner of her going. She had been absolutely fair and square in her
agreement with him. If this new love affair really meant new life to
her, respectability, happiness, he would be worse than a cad to stand
in her way. Nor could he, logically, bear any malice towards the man
who was taking her from him.
Presently he heard voices and footsteps on the walk below, and the next
moment Laura reappeared, dragging John Madison after her. The big
fellow's clothes were dusty after the long ride. His corduroy trousers
were encased in leggings, and on his boots were brass spurs, such as
are worn in the army. In his hand he held rather awkwardly a gray
cowboy hat. As the two men faced one another, there was a dramatic
pause. Each looked at the other interrogatively, with ill-disguised
hostility. One felt it needed but a spark to bring about an explosion.
Physically, they were both fine-looking men, although the contrast was
most marked. Brockton was tall and well-built, and many considered him
a handsome man, but by the side of the big Westerner, he suffered by
comparison. The broker was the conventional type of Eastern business
man, the style of man one meets in clubs and drawing-rooms, well
dressed, well groomed; John Madison, in his six feet of muscular
manhood, careless and picturesque in attire, suggested the free, open
life on the plains, where men face danger as a matter of course, and
are prepared to defend their lives at an instant's notice. Each man
took the other's measure in silence, neither flinching a muscle. The
smile faded from Madison's face, and his mouth dropped into an
expression of fierce determination. For a moment, Laura almost lost her
self composure. Nervous, frightened, now that she had brought them
together, her voice trembled slightly from apprehension:
"Oh, I beg your pardon! Mr. Madison--this is Mr. Brockton, a friend of
mine from New York. You've often heard me speak of him. He came out
here to keep me company when I go home."
Madison advanced with hand outstretched. Looking the broker straight in
the eye, he said:
"I am very glad to know you, Mr. Brockton."
"Thank you," returned the New Yorker with forced cordiality.
The newspaper man shuffled uneasily on his feet, as if he realized the
false position in which both of them were placed, but was ready enough,
if only for convenience sake, to avoid hostilities. Indeed, the
broker's easy and friendly manner entirely disarmed the antagonism that
Madison had long been nursing. With a side glance, at Laura, he went
on:
"I've heard a great deal about you and your kindness to Miss Murdock.
Anything that you have done for her in a spirit of friendliness, I am
sure all her friends must deeply appreciate, and I count myself in as
one."
Brockton smiled amiably, as he replied:
"Then we have a great deal in common, Mr. Madison, for I also count
Miss Murdock a friend, and when two friends of a friend have the
pleasure of meeting, I daresay that's a pretty good foundation for them
to become friends, too."
The big fellow nodded and showed his white teeth. With a determined
effort not to show himself behind his rival in cordiality, he said:
"Whatever my opinion may have been of you, Mr. Brockton, before you
arrived, now I have seen you--and I'm a man who forms his conclusions
right off the bat--I don't mind saying you've agreeably surprised me.
That's just a first impression, but they run kind o' strong with me."
Brockton carelessly flecked the ash from his cigar as he answered in
the same tone:
"Well, young man, I size up a fellow in pretty short order, and all
things being equal, I think you'll do."
Laura, radiant at this totally unexpected result of the encounter,
looked from one man to the other in delighted amazement. She was afraid
they would fly at each other's throats, and here they were, apparently,
the best of friends. Making a move towards the house she said:
"Shall I get the tea?"
"Tea?" exclaimed Madison in mock dismay.
The girl shook her finger in his face.
"Yes, tea. You know it must be tea--nothing stronger."
Madison looked comically at the broker:
"How strong are you for that tea, Mr. Brockton?"
"I'll pass," rejoined the broker, entering into the spirit of the fun,
"it's your deal, Mr. Madison."
"Mine?" echoed the Westerner, laughing. "No, deal me out this hand."
Putting on her favorite little pout, Laura pretended to be angry.
"I don't think you're at all pleasant, but I'll tell you one
thing--it's tea this deal or no game."
Throwing herself into a seat, she picked up a magazine, and made a
pretense of becoming interested in the illustrations.
Brockton moved towards the entrance to the house.
"No game then," he said laughingly. "I'm going in to help Mrs.
Williams. Maybe she's lost seven dollars by this time. I may be able to
get it back for her."
He disappeared in the house. Directly he was gone Laura sprang from her
seat, and running up to Madison, flung her arms unrestrainedly about
his neck.
"John!" she exclaimed.
"Well, dear?"
"Are you going to be cross with me?"
"Why?"
"Because he came?"
"Because who came?" he demanded, "Brockton?"
"Yes."
"You didn't know, did you?"
"Yes, I did."
"That he was coming?"
"He wired me when he reached Kansas City."
"Does he know?"
"About us?"
"Yes."
"I've told him."
"When?"
"To-day."
"Here?"
"Yes."
Madison looked at her closely for a moment. Then slowly, he asked:
"What was the result?"
"I think it hurt him."
"Naturally."
Thoughtfully, almost pensively, she added:
"More than I had any idea it would."
Madison shrugged his big, square shoulders, and sinking into a chair,
said laconically:
"I'm sorry."
"He cautioned me to be very careful, and to be sure I knew my way."
"That's right," nodded Madison approvingly.
Laura took a couple of cushions from a sofa near one of the windows,
and returning to where he was sitting, threw them on the ground near
his chair. From the interior of the house floated the soulful strains
of a Chopin nocturne. Sitting down quietly at his feet, she said
softly:
"John."
"What, dear?"
"We've been very happy all summer."
"Very."
"This thing has gradually been growing on us."
"That's true," he assented.
Musingly she went on:
"I little thought when I came out here to Denver to play in a little
stock company, that it was going to bring me all this happiness; but it
has, hasn't it?"
He smiled indulgently and caressed her golden hair. Changing her
position, she got up and sat on his knee, her arms around his neck.
After a moment's silence she said:
"Now the season's over, there's nothing to keep me in Colorado. I've
got to go back to New York and work."
"I know," he replied gloomily. "I've been awake all night thinking
about it."
"Well?" she asked anxiously.
"Well?" he repeated, without satisfying her curiosity.
"What are we going to do?" she inquired.
He remained silent for a moment; then he said:
"Why, you've got to go, I suppose."
"Is it good-bye?"
He nodded gloomily.
"For a while, I suppose--it's good-bye."
Turning his face round so she could see it, she looked searchingly at
him.
"What do you mean by 'a while'?"
"Until I get money enough together, and am making enough to support
you. Then I'll come and take you out of the show business and make you
Mrs. Madison."
She tightened her arm around his neck and placed her cheek lovingly
against his. In one fond, pure caress she showed him all the affection
of which a woman is capable. Fondling up against him she seemed like a
dainty little kitten purring close to its master. Her every thought and
desire seemed to be centered on this man, who had taught her for the
first time the meaning of the word "love." Tenderly she said:
"John, that is what I want above everything else."
He smiled fondly at her. Gravely he said:
"But, Laura, dear, we must come to some distinct understanding before
we start to make our plans. We're not children."
"No, we're not," she assented positively.
Rising from his knee, she went to the side of the porch and, leaning
her elbows on the balustrade, gazed meditatively out into the valley.
"Now, in the first place," he continued, "we'll discuss you, and in the
second place we'll discuss me. We'll keep nothing from each other, and
we'll start out on this campaign of decency and honor, fully
understanding its responsibilities, without a chance of a come-back on
either side."
Laura turned and looked at him. Her face was pale and serious. Yes,
plain words must be spoken between them and the proper time was now--so
he might yet draw back, if he found he could not take her as she was.
"You mean," she said in a tone so low that he hardly caught it, "that
we should tell each other all about each other so, no matter what is
said about us by other people, _we'll_ know it first."
Madison rose and paced the porch nervously:
"That's precisely what I'm trying to get at," he said.
The girl was silent for a moment; then hesitatingly she said:
"Well, John, there are so many things I don't want to speak of--even to
you. It isn't easy for a woman to go back and dig up a lot of ugly
memories and try to excuse them----"
He interrupted her:
"I don't ask that. I know your life, as I told you. That makes no
difference now. The past is past. I love you as I know you, as you are
to-day. It's only the future we want to worry about. Laura, the habit
of life is a hard thing to get away from. You've lived in this way for
a long time. As my affianced wife you'll have to give it up. You'll
have to go back to New York and struggle along on your own hook, until
I get enough together to come for you. I don't know how long that will
be." Determinedly, almost fiercely, he added: "But it _will_ be. Do you
love me enough to stick out for the right thing?"
The girl said nothing. Her bosom heaved and her mouth quivered. She
appeared deeply moved. Then, suddenly, going quickly up to her
companion, she threw her arms affectionately around his neck. Earnestly
she said:
"Yes, John. I think this is my one great chance. I do love you, and I
want to do just what you say."
The big fellow's face beamed with content and happiness as fondly he
caressed her hair.
"I think you will, little girl," he said. "And I'm going to make the
same promise. I've been no angel myself. Ever since I've been able to
earn my own living, I've abused every natural gift God gave me. This
restlessness and love of adventure has kept me where I am. My life
hasn't been exactly loose, but it's been all in pieces. I've frittered
my time and opportunities away just for the fun of it. But, Laura,
dear--when I met you and began to know you I realized for the first
time that I was making an awful waste of myself. Now it's all
different. Give me time--only a few months--and I'll show you what I
can do."
"John!"
It was all she could say, but he understood, and clasping her
passionately, his head dropped lower over her face, until his warm lips
met her unresisting mouth. When, after a blissful interval, she looked
up, he saw that there were tears in her eyes. Tenderly he said:
"Some lovers place a woman on a pedestal and say: 'She never has made a
mistake.' Well, we don't need any pedestals. I know you will never make
a mistake again."
Gravely she placed both her hands on his square shoulders. Looking him
straight in the eyes, she said:
"John, I will never make you take those words back."
"That goes double," he rejoined laughingly. "You're going to cut out
the cafes and the lobster suppers, and I'm going to cut out my
shiftlessness and indolence. You're going to be somebody, and if my
hunch is worth the powder to blow it up, we'll show folks things they
never thought were in us. We'll begin right now. You're ready, ain't
you, dear?"
"Yes, I'm ready."
Pointing towards the house, he said:
"Then call him."
"Brockton?"
"Yes, tell him you go back to New York without any traveling
companion."
She hesitated and looked perplexed. She was hardly prepared to act so
quickly as this.
"Now?" she demanded.
"Now," he said firmly.
She clasped and unclasped her hands nervously. Timidly she said:
"You want to hear me tell him?"
He smiled.
"We're partners, aren't we? I ought to be in on any important
transaction like that, but it's just as you say."
The girl nodded. Hesitatingly she said:
"I think it would be right you should. I'll call him now."
"All right."
He strolled carelessly in the direction of the stairway, while Laura
moved towards the house. It was dark now outside, and the interior of
the bungalow was already lighted up. Halting just outside the front
door, she called:
"Mr. Brockton! Oh, Mr. Brockton!"
"Yes?" answered the broker's voice from inside.
"Can you spare a moment to come out here?"
"I'll be there presently."
"No--now," she insisted. "You must come now."
"All right, I'm coming."
She waited for him until he appeared.