THEY RETURN TO THE RANCH OF ROARING BULL, WHERE SOMETHING SERIOUS
HAPPENS TO DICK DARVALL.
When Dick Darvall and Hunky Ben returned from the expedition which we
have just described, they found all right at the cave, except that a
letter to Leather had been sent up from Bull's ranch which had caused
him much grief and anxiety.
"I have been eagerly awaiting your return, Ben," said Charlie Brooke,
when he and the scout went outside the cave to talk the matter over,
"for the news in this letter has thrown poor Leather back considerably,
and, as he will continue to fret about it and get worse, something must
be done."
He paused for a few moments, and the scout gravely waited for him to
resume.
"The fact is," continued Charlie, "that poor Leather's father has been
given far too much to the bottle during a great part of his life, and
the letter just received tells us that he has suddenly left home and
gone no one knows where. Now, my friend Leather and his father were
always very fond of each other, and the son cannot forgive himself for
having at various times rather encouraged his father in drinking, so
that his conscience is reproaching him terribly, as you may well
believe, and he insists on it that he is now quite able to undertake the
voyage home. You and I know, Ben, that in his present state it would be
madness for him to attempt it; yet to lie and fret here would be almost
as bad. Now, what is your advice?"
For some moments the scout stood silent with his eyes on the ground and
his right hand grasping his chin--his usual attitude when engaged in
meditation.
"Is there enough o' dollars," he asked, "to let you do as ye like?"
"No lack of dollars, I dare say, when needed," replied Charlie.
"Then my advice," returned the scout promptly, "is to take Leather
straight off to-morrow mornin' to Bull's ranch; make him comfortable
there, call him Mister Shank,--so as nobody'll think he's been the man
called Leather, who's bin so long ill along wi' poor Buck Tom's gang,--
and then you go off to old England to follow his father's trail till you
find him. Leather has great belief in you, sir, and the feelin' that
you are away doin' your best for him will do more to relieve his mind
and strengthen his body than tons o' doctor's stuff. Dick Darvall could
remain to take care of him if he has no objection."
"I rather think he would be well pleased to do so," replied Charlie,
with a laugh of significance, which the scout quietly subjected to
analysis in what he styled his brain-pan, and made a note of the result
in his mental memorandum book!
"But I doubt if Leather--"
"Shank," interrupted the scout. "Call him Shank from now, so's we may
all git used to it; tho' p'r'aps it ain't o' much importance, for most
o' the men that saw him here saw him in uncommon bad condition an' would
hardly know him again, besides, they won't likely be at Bull's ranch,
an' the captain an' troops that were here have been ordered down south.
Still one can never be too careful when life and death may be i' the
balance. Your friend niver was one o' the outlaws, but it mightn't be
easy to prove that."
"Well, then," resumed our hero, "I was going to say that I fear Shank
won't be able to stand the journey even to the ranch."
"No fear of that, sir. We'll carry him down to the foot o' the Trap,
an' when we git out on the plain mount him on one o' the horses left by
poor Buck--the one that goes along so quiet that they've given it the
name o' the Wheelbarrow."
"Should I speak to him to-night about our plan, Ben?"
"No. If I was you I'd only say we're goin' to take him down to Bull's
ranch i' the mornin'. That'll take his mind a bit off the letter, an'
then it'll give him an extra lift when you tell him the rest o' the
plan."
In accordance with this arrangement, on the following morning a litter
was made with two stout poles and a blanket between. On this the
invalid was laid after an early breakfast; another blanket was spread
over him, and the scout and Dick, taking it up between them, carried him
out of Traitor's Trap, while Charlie Brooke, riding Jackson's horse, led
the Wheelbarrow by the bridle. As for Black Polly, she was left to
follow at her own convenience, a whistle from Hunky Ben being at any
moment sufficient to bring her promptly to her master's side.
On reaching the plain the litter was laid aside, the blankets were
fastened to the horses, and Shank prepared, as Dick said, to board
Wheelbarrow.
"Now then, Shank," said the seaman, while helping his friend, "don't be
in a hurry. Nothin' was ever done well in a hurry either afloat or
ashore. Git your futt well into the stirrup an' don't take too much of
a spring, else you'll be apt to go right over on the starboard side.
Hup you go!"
The worthy sailor lent such willing aid that there is little doubt he
would have precipitated the catastrophe against which he warned, had not
Hunky Ben placed himself on the "starboard side" of the steed and
counteracted the heave. After that all went well; the amble of the
Wheelbarrow fully justified the title, and in due course the party
arrived at the ranch of Roaring Bull, where the poor invalid was
confined to his room for a considerable time thereafter, and became
known at the ranch as Mr Shank.
One evening Charlie Brooke entered the kitchen of the ranch in search of
his friend Dick Darvall, who had a strange fondness for Buttercup, and
frequently held converse with her in the regions of the back-kitchen.
"I dun know whar he is, massa Book," answered the sable beauty when
appealed to, "he's mostly somewhar around when he's not nowhar else."
"I shouldn't wonder if he was," returned Charlie with a hopeful smile.
"I suppose Miss Mary's not around anywhere, is she?"
"I shouldn't wonder if she wasn't; but she ain't here, massa," said the
black maid earnestly.
"You are a truthful girl, Butter--stick to that, and you'll get on in
life."
With this piece of advice Charlie left the kitchen abruptly, and thereby
missed the eruption of teeth and gums that immediately followed his
remark.
Making his way to the chamber of his sick friend, Charlie sat down at
the open window beside him.
"How d'you feel this evening, my boy?" he asked.
"A little better, but--oh dear me!--I begin to despair of getting well
enough to go home, and it's impossible to avoid being worried, for,
unless father is sought for and found soon he, will probably sink
altogether. You have no idea, Charlie, what a fearful temptation drink
becomes to those who have once given way to it and passed a certain
point."
"I don't know it personally--though I take no credit for that--but I
have some idea of it, I think, from what I have seen and heard. But I
came to relieve your mind on the subject, Shank. I wanted to speak with
Dick Darvall first to see if he would fall in with my plan, but as I
can't find him just now I thought it best to come straight to you about
it. Hallo! There is Dick."
"Where?" said Shank, bending forward so as to see the place on which his
friend's eyes were fixed.
"There, don't you see? Look across that bit of green sward, about fifty
yards into the bush, close to that lopped pine where a thick shrub
overhangs a fallen tree--"
"I see--I see!" exclaimed Shank, a gleeful expression banishing for a
time the look of suffering and anxiety that had become habitual to him.
"Why, the fellow is seated beside Mary Jackson!"
"Ay, and holding a very earnest conversation with her, to judge from his
attitude," said Charlie. "Probably inquiring into the market-price of
steers--or some absorbing topic of that sort."
"He's grasping her hand now!" exclaimed Shank, with an expanding mouth.
"And she lets him hold it. Really this becomes interesting," observed
Charlie, with gravity. "But, my friend, is not this a species of
eavesdropping? Are we not taking mean advantage of a pair who fondly
think themselves alone? Come, Shank, let us turn our backs on the view
and try to fix our minds on matters of personal interest."
But the young men had not to subject themselves to such a delicate test
of friendship, for before they could make any attempt to carry out the
suggestion, Dick and Mary were seen to rise abruptly and hasten from the
spot in different directions. A few minutes later Buttercup was
observed to glide upon the scene and sit down upon the self-same fallen
tree. The distance from the bedroom window was too great to permit of
sounds reaching the observers' ears, or of facial contortions meeting
their eyes very distinctly, but there could be no doubt as to the
feelings of the damsel, or the meaning of those swayings to and fro of
her body, the throwing back of her head, and the pressing of her hands
on her sides. Suddenly she held out a black hand as if inviting some
one in the bush to draw near. The invitation was promptly accepted by a
large brown dog--a well-known favourite in the ranch household.
Rover--for such was his name--leaped on the fallen tree and sat down on
the spot which had previously been occupied by the fair Mary. The
position was evidently suggestive, for Buttercup immediately began to
gesticulate and clasp her hands as if talking very earnestly to the dog.
"I verily believe," said Shank, "that the blacking-ball is re-enacting
the scene with Rover! See! she grasps his paw, and--"
"My friend," said Charlie, "we are taking mean advantage again! And,
behold! like the other pair, they are flitting from the scene, though
not quite in the same fashion."
This was true, for Buttercup, reflecting, probably, that she might be
missed in the kitchen, had suddenly tumbled Rover off the tree and
darted swiftly from the spot.
"Come now, Shank," said Charlie, resuming the thread of discourse which
had been interrupted, "it is quite plain to Dick and to myself that you
are unfit to travel home in your present state of health, so I have made
up my mind to leave you here in the care of honest Jackson and Darvall,
and to go home myself to make inquiries and search for your father.
Will this make your mind easy? For that is essential to your recovery
at the present time."
"You were always kind and self-sacrificing, Charlie. Assuredly, your
going will take an enormous weight off my mind, for you are much better
fitted by nature for such a search than I am--to say nothing of health.
Thank you, my dear old boy, a thousand times. As for Dick Darvall,"
added Shank, with a laugh, "before this evening I would have doubted
whether he would be willing to remain with me after your departure, but
I have no doubt now--considering what we have just witnessed!"
"Yes, he has found `metal more attractive,'" said Charlie, rising. "I
will now go and consult with him, after which I will depart without
delay."
"You've been having a gallop, to judge from your heightened colour and
flashing eyes," said Charlie to Dick when they met in the yard,
half-an-hour later.
"N-no--not exactly," returned the seaman, with a slightly embarrassed
air. "The fact is I've bin cruisin' about in the bush."
"What! lookin' for Redskins?"
"N-no; not exactly, but--"
"Oh! I see. Out huntin', I suppose. After deer--eh?"
"Well, now, that was a pretty fair guess, Charlie," said Dick, laughing.
"To tell ye the plain truth, I have been out arter a dear--full sail--
an'--"
"And you bagged it, of course. Fairly run it down, I suppose," said his
friend, again interrupting.
"Well, there ain't no `of course' about it, but as it happened, I did
manage to overhaul her, and coming to close quarters, I--"
"Yes, yes, _I_ know," interrupted Charlie a third time, with provoking
coolness. "You ran her on to the rocks, Dick--which was unseamanlike in
the extreme--at least you ran the dear aground on a fallen tree and,
sitting down beside it, asked it to become Mrs Darvall, and the amiable
creature agreed, eh?"
"Why, how on earth did 'ee come for to know _that_?" asked Dick, in
blazing astonishment.
"Well, you know, there's no great mystery about it. If a bold sailor
_will_ go huntin' close to the house, and run down his game right in
front of Mr Shank's windows, he must expect to have witnesses.
However, give me your flipper, mess-mate, and let me congratulate you,
for in my opinion there's not such another dear on all the slopes of the
Rocky Mountains. But now that I've found you, I want to lay some of my
future plans before you."
They had not been discussing these plans many minutes, when Mary was
seen crossing the yard in company with Hunky Ben.
"If Hunky would only stop, we'd keep quite jolly till you return,"
observed Dick, in an undertone as the two approached.
"We were just talking of you, Ben," observed Charlie, as they came up.
"Are you goin' for a cruise, Miss Mary?" asked the seaman in a manner
that drew the scout's attention.
"No," replied Mary with a little laugh, and anything but a little blush,
that intensified the attention of the scout. He gave one of his quiet
but quick glances at Dick and chuckled softly.
"So soon!" he murmured to himself; "sartinly your sea-dog is pretty
slick at such matters."
Dick thought he heard the chuckle and turned a lightning glance on the
scout, but that sturdy son of the forest had his leathern countenance
turned towards the sky with profoundest gravity. It was characteristic
of him, you see, to note the signs of the weather.
"Mr Brooke," he said, with the slow deliberate air of the man who forms
his opinions on solid grounds, "there's goin' to be a bu'st up o' the
elements afore long, as sure as my name's Hunky."
"That's the very thing I want to talk about with you, Ben, for I
meditate a long journey immediately. Come, walk with me."
Taking the scout's arm he paced with him slowly up and down the yard,
while Dick and Mary went off on a cruise elsewhere.