"AT HIS TIME OF LIFE."
"Something not quite right there--not quite right. No, sir," said the
scout to himself, shaking his head softly as he furtively watched his
companion. "And I reckon I can fix it," he added. "Lord! Lord! To
think what we may come to--the most sensible of us as well as the most
downright foolishest."
Vipan, stretched at full length beside the camp fire, smoking his long
Indian pipe, looked the very picture of languid repose. Yet his
thoughts were in a whirl. Why had he come there?--why the devil had he
stayed?
The hour was late--late, that is, for those destined to rise at the
first glimmer which should tell of the rising dawn--and sundry shapes
rolled in blankets, whence emanated snores, betokened that most of the
denizens of the encampment were sleeping the sleep of the healthy and
the just. The murmur of voices, however, with now and then an airy
feminine laugh from the Winthrops' side of the corral, told that some at
any rate were keeping late hours.
"Say, Bill, I conclude I'll git from here."
No change of expression came into the speaker's face. Nor did he even
glance at him addressed. The words seem to escape him as the natural
and logical outcome of a train of thought.
"Right, old pard. I'm with you there. Where'll you light out for?"
"I think I'll go to Red Cloud's village and see what's on. Perhaps look
in upon Sitting Bull or Mahto-sapa on the way."
"There I ain't with you," answered the scout decisively. "Better leave
the reds alone just now. Haven't you been shooting 'em down like
jack-rabbits around here, and won't they now be bustin' with murderation
to take your hair? No, no."
"May be. But I want a change, anyway. So I'm for looking up that
_placer_ on upper Burntwood Creek. The troops won't molest us this
time, because all the miners'll have left. Besides all available
cavalry will be told off against Sitting Bull."
"It's strange that Mr Vipan hasn't been near us all day," Mrs Winthrop
was saying. "But I suppose he'll clear out as suddenly as he came.
These Western men are queer folks, and that's a fact."
"Vipan isn't a Western man," answered the Major, thoughtfully. "And
it's my private opinion he could give a queer account of himself if he
chose. Sometimes I could swear he had been in the Service. However
that's his business, not ours."
"Well, he might be a little more open with us, anyway, considering the
time we have been together."
"Just over a week."
"That's as long as a year out here. But I shall be sorry when he does
leave us--very sorry."
"May I hope that remark will apply to me, Mrs Winthrop?" said a voice
out of the gloom, as its owner stepped within the firelight circle.
"It's odd how things dovetail, for as a matter of fact I strolled across
for the purpose of taking leave."
"Oh, how you startled me!" she cried. "Of taking leave? Surely you are
not going to leave us yet, Mr Vipan? Why, we hoped you would accompany
us home, and stay awhile, and have a good time generally. You really
can't go yet. Fred--Yseulte--tell him we won't allow it."
"Why, most certainly, we won't," began the former, heartily. "Come,
Vipan--your time's your own, you know, and you may just as well do some
hunting out our way as anywhere else."
"Of course," assented his wife. "But--I know what it is. We have
offended him in some way. Yseulte, what have you done to offend Mr
Vipan? I'm sure I can't call to mind anything."
"There is no question of offence," protested Vipan. "I am a confirmed
wanderer, you see, Mrs Winthrop--here to-day, away to-morrow. The
country is clear of reds now, and you will no longer need our additional
rifles. If we have rendered you some slight service, I can answer for
it, my partner is as glad as I am myself."
No man living was less liable to be swayed by caprice than the speaker.
Yet suddenly he became as resolved to remain a little longer, as he had
been a moment before to leave. And this change was brought about by the
most trivial circumstance in the world. While he was speaking, his eyes
had met those of Yseulte Santorex.
Only for a moment, however.
When Vipan, in his usual laconic manner, informed his comrade that he
concluded to wait a bit longer, the latter merely remarked, "Right,
pard. Jest as you fancy." But as he rolled over to go to sleep, he
nodded off to the unspoken soliloquy--
"It's a rum start--a darn rum start. At his time of life, too! Yes,
sir."