This stranger of royal bearing, riding a rough Western pony as if it
were decked with golden trappings, with his bright hair gleaming like
Roman gold in the sun, and his blue-gray eyes looking into hers with the
gladness of his youth; this one who had come to her out of the
night-shadows of the wilderness and led her into safety! Yes, she was
glad to see him.
He dismounted and greeted her, his wide hat in his hand, his eyes upon
her face, and Bud stepped back, watching them in pleased surprise. This
was the man who had shot all the lights out the night of the big riot in
the saloon. He had also risked his life in a number of foolish ways at
recent festal carouses. Bud would not have been a boy had he not admired
the young man beyond measure; and his boy worship of the teacher yielded
her to a fitting rival. He stepped behind and walked beside the pony,
who was following his master meekly, as though he, too, were under the
young man's charm.
"Oh, and this is my friend, William Tanner," spoke Margaret, turning
toward the boy loyally, (Whatever good angel made her call him William?
Bud's soul swelled with new dignity as he blushed and acknowledged the
introduction by a grin.)
"Glad to know you, Will," said the new-comer, extending his hand in a
hearty shake that warmed the boy's heart in a trice. "I'm glad Miss
Earle has so good a protector. You'll have to look out for her. She's
pretty plucky and is apt to stray around the wilderness by herself. It
isn't safe, you know, boy, for such as her. Look after her, will you?"
"Right I will," said Bud, accepting the commission as if it were
Heaven-sent, and thereafter walked behind the two with his head in the
clouds. He felt that he understood this great hero of the plains and was
one with him at heart. There could be no higher honor than to be the
servitor of this man's lady. Bud did not stop to question how the new
teacher became acquainted with the young rider of the plains. It was
enough that both were young and handsome and seemed to belong together.
He felt they were fitting friends.
The little procession walked down the road slowly, glad to prolong the
way. The young man had brought her handkerchief, a filmy trifle of an
excuse that she had dropped behind her chair at the bunk-house, where it
had lain unnoticed till she was gone. He produced it from his inner
pocket, as though it had been too precious to carry anywhere but over
his heart, yet there was in his manner nothing presuming, not a hint of
any intimacy other than their chance acquaintance of the wilderness
would warrant. He did not look at her with any such look as West had
given every time he spoke to her. She felt no desire to resent his
glance when it rested upon her almost worshipfully, for there was
respect and utmost humility in his look.
The men had sent gifts: some arrow-heads and a curiously fashioned
vessel from the cañon of the cave-dwellers; some chips from the
petrified forest; a fern with wonderful fronds, root and all; and a
sheaf of strange, beautiful blossoms carefully wrapped in wet paper, and
all fastened to the saddle.
Margaret's face kindled with interest as he showed them to her one by
one, and told her the history of each and a little message from the man
who had sent it. Mom Wallis, too, had baked a queer little cake and sent
it. The young man's face was tender as he spoke of it. The girl saw that
he knew what her coming had meant to Mom Wallis. Her memory went quickly
back to those few words the morning she had wakened in the bunk-house
and found the withered old woman watching her with tears in her eyes.
Poor Mom Wallis, with her pretty girlhood all behind her and such a
blank, dull future ahead! Poor, tired, ill-used, worn-out Mom Wallis!
Margaret's heart went out to her.
"They want to know," said the young man, half hesitatingly, "if some
time, when you get settled and have time, you would come to them again
and sing? I tried to make them understand, of course, that you would be
busy, your time taken with other friends and your work, and you would
not want to come; but they wanted me to tell you they never enjoyed
anything so much in years as your singing. Why, I heard Long Jim singing
'Old Folks at Home' this morning when he was saddling his horse. And
it's made a difference. The men sort of want to straighten up the
bunk-room. Jasper made a new chair yesterday. He said it would do when
you came again." Gardley laughed diffidently, as if he knew their hopes
were all in vain.
But Margaret looked up with sympathy in her face, "I'll come! Of course
I'll come some time," she said, eagerly. "I'll come as soon as I can
arrange it. You tell them we'll have more than one concert yet."
The young man's face lit up with a quick appreciation, and the flash of
his eyes as he looked at her would have told any onlooker that he felt
here was a girl in a thousand, a girl with an angel spirit, if ever such
a one walked the earth.
Now it happened that Rev. Frederick West was walking impatiently up and
down in front of the Tanner residence, looking down the road about that
time. He had spent the morning in looking over the small bundle of "show
sermons" he had brought with him in case of emergency, and had about
decided to accede to Mrs. Tanner's request and preach in Ashland before
he left. This decision had put him in so self-satisfied a mood that he
was eager to announce it before his fellow-boarder. Moreover, he was
hungry, and he could not understand why that impudent boy and that
coquettish young woman should remain away at Sunday-school such an
interminable time.
Mrs. Tanner was frying chicken. He could smell it every time he took a
turn toward the house. It really was ridiculous that they should keep
dinner waiting this way. He took one more turn and began to think over
the sermon he had decided to preach. He was just recalling a
particularly eloquent passage when he happened to look down the road
once more, and there they were, almost upon him! But Bud was no longer
walking with the maiden. She had acquired a new escort, a man of broad
shoulders and fine height. Where had he seen that fellow before? He
watched them as they came up, his small, pale eyes narrowing under their
yellow lashes with a glint of slyness, like some mean little animal that
meant to take advantage of its prey. It was wonderful how many different
things that man could look like for a person as insignificant as he
really was!
Well, he saw the look between the man and maiden; the look of sympathy
and admiration and a fine kind of trust that is not founded on mere
outward show, but has found some hidden fineness of the soul. Not that
the reverend gentleman understood that, however. He had no fineness of
soul himself. His mind had been too thoroughly taken up with himself all
his life for him to have cultivated any.
Simultaneous with the look came his recognition of the man or, at least,
of where he had last seen him, and his little soul rejoiced at the
advantage he instantly recognized.
He drew himself up importantly, flattened his chin upward until his
lower lip protruded in a pink roll across his mouth, drew down his
yellow brows in a frown of displeasure, and came forward mentor-like to
meet the little party as it neared the house. He had the air of coming
to investigate and possibly oust the stranger, and he looked at him
keenly, critically, offensively, as if he had the right to protect the
lady. They might have been a pair of naughty children come back from a
forbidden frolic, from the way he surveyed them. But the beauty of it
was that neither of them saw him, being occupied with each other, until
they were fairly upon him. Then, there he stood offensively, as if he
were a great power to be reckoned with.
"Well, well, well, Miss Margaret, you have got home at last!" he said,
pompously and condescendingly, and then he looked into the eyes of her
companion as if demanding an explanation of _his_ presence there.
Margaret drew herself up haughtily. His use of her Christian name in
that familiar tone annoyed her exceedingly. Her eyes flashed
indignantly, but the whole of it was lost unless Bud saw it, for Gardley
had faced his would-be adversary with a keen, surprised scrutiny, and
was looking him over coolly. There was that in the young man's eye that
made the eye of Frederick West quail before him. It was only an instant
the two stood challenging each other, but in that short time each knew
and marked the other for an enemy. Only a brief instant and then Gardley
turned to Margaret, and before she had time to think what to say, he
asked:
"Is this man a friend of yours, Miss _Earle_?" with marked emphasis on
the last word.
"No," said Margaret, coolly, "not a friend--a boarder in the house."
Then most formally, "Mr. West, my _friend_ Mr. Gardley."
If the minister had not been possessed of the skin of a rhinoceros he
would have understood himself to be dismissed at that; but he was not a
man accustomed to accepting dismissal, as his recent church in New York
State might have testified. He stood his ground, his chin flatter than
ever, his little eyes mere slits of condemnation. He did not acknowledge
the introduction by so much as the inclination of his head. His hands
were clasped behind his back, and his whole attitude was one of
righteous belligerence.
Gardley gazed steadily at him for a moment, a look of mingled contempt
and amusement gradually growing upon his face. Then he turned away as if
the man were too small to notice.
"You will come in and take dinner with me?" asked Margaret, eagerly. "I
want to send a small package to Mrs. Wallis if you will be so good as to
take it with you."
"I'm sorry I can't stay to dinner, but I have an errand in another
direction and at some distance. I am returning this way, however, and,
if I may, will call and get the package toward evening."
Margaret's eyes spoke her welcome, and with a few formal words the young
man sprang on his horse, said, "So long, Will!" to Bud, and, ignoring
the minister, rode away.
They watched him for an instant, for, indeed, he was a goodly sight upon
a horse, riding as if he and the horse were utterly one in spirit; then
Margaret turned quickly to go into the house.
"Um! Ah! Miss Margaret!" began the minister, with a commandatory gesture
for her to stop.
Margaret was the picture of haughtiness as she turned and said, "Miss
_Earle_, if you please!"
"Um! Ah! Why, certainly, Miss--ah--_Earle_, if you wish it. Will you
kindly remain here for a moment? I wish to speak with you. Bud, you may
go on."
"I'll go when I like, and it's none of your business!" muttered Bud,
ominously, under his breath. He looked at Margaret to see if she wished
him to go. He had an idea that this might be one of the times when he
was to look after her.
She smiled at him understandingly. "William may remain, Mr. West," she
said, sweetly. "Anything you have to say to me can surely be said in his
presence," and she laid her hand lightly on Bud's sleeve.
Bud looked down at the hand proudly and grew inches taller enjoying the
minister's frown.
"Um! Ah!" said West, unabashed. "Well, I merely wished to warn you
concerning the character of that person who has just left us. He is
really not a proper companion for you. Indeed, I may say he is quite the
contrary, and that to my personal knowledge--"
"He's as good as you are and better!" growled Bud, ominously.
"Be quiet, boy! I wasn't speaking to you!" said West, as if he were
addressing a slave. "If I hear another word from your lips I shall
report it to your father!"
"Go 's far 's you like and see how much I care!" taunted Bud, but was
stopped by Margaret's gentle pressure on his arm.
"Mr. West, I thought I made you understand that Mr. Gardley is my
friend."
"Um! Ah! Miss Earle, then all I have to say is that you have formed a
most unwise friendship, and should let it proceed no further. Why, my
dear young lady, if you knew all there is to know about him you would
not think of speaking to that young man."
"Indeed! Mr. West, I suppose that might be true of a good many people,
might it not, _if we knew all there is to know about them_? Nobody but
God could very well get along with some of us."
"But, my dear young lady, you don't understand. This young person is
nothing but a common ruffian, a gambler, in fact, and an habitué at the
saloons. I have seen him myself sitting in a saloon at a very late hour
playing with a vile, dirty pack of cards, and in the company of a lot of
low-down creatures--"
"May I ask how you came to be in a saloon at that hour, Mr. West?" There
was a gleam of mischief in the girl's eyes, and her mouth looked as if
she were going to laugh, but she controlled it.
The minister turned very red indeed. "Well, I--ah--I had been called
from my bed by shouts and the report of a pistol. There was a fight
going on in the room adjoining the bar, and I didn't know but my
assistance might be needed!" (At this juncture Bud uttered a sort of
snort and, placing his hands over his heart, ducked down as if a sudden
pain had seized him.) "But imagine my pain and astonishment when I was
informed that the drunken brawl I was witnessing was but a nightly and
common occurrence. I may say I remained for a few minutes, partly out of
curiosity, as I wished to see all kinds of life in this new world for
the sake of a book I am thinking of writing. I therefore took careful
note of the persons present, and was thus able to identify the person
who has just ridden away as one of the chief factors in that evening's
entertainment. He was, in fact, the man who, when he had pocketed all
the money on the gaming-table, arose and, taking out his pistol, shot
out the lights in the room, a most dangerous and irregular proceeding--"
"Yes, and you came within an ace of being shot, pa says. The Kid's a
dead shot, he is, and you were right in the way. Served you right for
going where you had no business!"
"I did not remain longer in that place, as you may imagine," went on West,
ignoring Bud, "for I found it was no place for a--for--a--ah--minister
of the gospel; but I remained long enough to hear from the lips of this
person with whom you have just been walking some of the most terrible
language my ears have ever been permitted to--ah--witness!"
But Margaret had heard all that she intended to listen to on that
subject. With decided tone she interrupted the voluble speaker, who was
evidently enjoying his own eloquence.
"Mr. West, I think you have said all that it is necessary to say. There
are still some things about Mr. Gardley that you evidently do not know,
but I think you are in a fair way to learn them if you stay in this part
of the country long. William, isn't that your mother calling us to
dinner? Let us go in; I'm hungry."
Bud followed her up the walk with a triumphant wink at the discomfited
minister, and they disappeared into the house; but when Margaret went
up to her room and took off her hat in front of the little warped
looking-glass there were angry tears in her eyes. She never felt more
like crying in her life. Chagrin and anger and disappointment were all
struggling in her soul, yet she must not cry, for dinner would be ready
and she must go down. Never should that mean little meddling man see
that his words had pierced her soul.
For, angry as she was at the minister, much as she loathed his petty,
jealous nature and saw through his tale-bearing, something yet told her
that his picture of young Gardley's wildness was probably true, and her
soul sank within her at the thought. It was just what had come in
shadowy, instinctive fear to her heart when he had hinted at his being a
"roughneck," yet to have it put baldly into words by an enemy hurt her
deeply, and she looked at herself in the glass half frightened.
"Margaret Earle, have you come out to the wilderness to lose your heart
to the first handsome sower of wild oats that you meet?" her true eyes
asked her face in the glass, and Margaret Earle's heart turned sad at
the question and shrank back. Then she dropped upon her knees beside her
gay little rocking-chair and buried her face in its flowered cushions
and cried to her Father in heaven:
"Oh, my Father, let me not be weak, but with all my heart I cry to Thee
to save this young, strong, courageous life and not let it be a failure.
Help him to find Thee and serve Thee, and if his life has been all
wrong--and I suppose it has--oh, make it right for Jesus' sake! If there
is anything that I can do to help, show me how, and don't let me make
mistakes. Oh, Jesus, Thy power is great. Let this young man feel it and
yield himself to it."
She remained silently praying for a moment more, putting her whole soul
into the prayer and knowing that she had been called thus to pray for
him until her prayer was answered.
She came down to dinner a few minutes later with a calm, serene face, on
which was no hint of her recent emotion, and she managed to keep the
table conversation wholly in her own hands, telling Mr. Tanner about her
home town and her father and mother. When the meal was finished the
minister had no excuse to think that the new teacher was careless about
her friends and associates, and he was well informed about the high
principles of her family.
But West had retired into a sulky mood and uttered not a word except to
ask for more chicken and coffee and a second helping of pie. It was,
perhaps, during that dinner that he decided it would be best for him to
preach in Ashland on the following Sunday. The young lady could be
properly impressed with his dignity in no other way.