When Bushy awoke the next morning, her father, Tom, and Shanks were
busying themselves over the wounded brigand. “Do you know,” said the
chief, as he lay stretched out full length on the stone floor, “do you
know, Mr. Sukolt, that you have a very fine girl?”
“Well, we are all inclined to think so,” replied her father. “Had it
not been for her last night you would have soon wiped us out.”
“I think that last bullet is going to end my career,” murmured the
wounded man.
“I have nobody to leave my money to,” he added, turning seriously to
Mr. Sukolt. “I became an outlaw first because I had murdered a man I
hated. I am rich and came by my wealth, honestly enough, from the sale
of lands left me by my people. I would like to will it to your girl,
for she is the bravest little creature I ever met. I don’t suppose you
are anxious to take things so ill-gotten as those we have in the cave,
but Bushy knows the way, and you can do what you wish with everything
there. My bank account goes to the little girl. Now give me paper,
pen, and ink. Quick! for I feel I am sinking!”
Tom, thoroughly realizing the seriousness of the case, and filled
with wild delight over the thought of Bushy coming in for perhaps a
good round sum of money, made a dash over to the main cabin, snatched
the required articles and hastened back again to lay them before the
brigand, saying:
“There you are, sir; now is your chance to leave the child a mite of
money, if you see fit.”
Mr. Sukolt was not altogether satisfied with the idea of such a legacy,
but both Tom and Shanks insisted that the man be allowed to do as he
wished, and the Padre at length yielded. The outcome of it all was that
the wounded chief turned over all his honestly acquired property to
Bushy. Shanks understood the law well enough to see that everything was
done correctly. The wounded man died within an hour.
A month afterward Mr. Sukolt explained to Bushy that he had written and
ascertained that the bandit’s real estate amounted to nearly $25,000,
of which she thus became heiress in her own right.
“It is my duty to tell you,” said her father, “and to add that you are
old enough to realize in a measure what that amount of money means.”
Bushy sat stunned, and was only aroused by Rover’s cold nose being
poked into her closed hand.
Mr. Sukolt returned to his office near the mine. He was there
confronted with a great surprise. A Mr. Richard Hamilton laid his card
on the desk. He was the man whom Bushy had lariated when his frightened
horse was rushing toward a precipice at Cross Roads. Mr. Sukolt hardly
recognized him at first. When the visitor recalled the circumstances,
the two men shook hands warmly. Mr. Hamilton had a proposition to make
with reference to Bushy, and had come far out of his way to speak to
Mr. Sukolt.
“I am going to New York,” he said, “and she can go East with me,
remain with my people and attend school. I insist that you consider my
suggestion.”
“Bushy’s action scarcely merits your exhibition of feeling; any one
would have done the same in similar circumstances,” said Mr. Sukolt.
“Must I be deprived of showing my gratitude for the care you took of
me? Can I forget how Bushy ran her horse to Cross Roads for Tom and the
wagon, in order that I might be taken to your camp comfortably?”
“Your offer alone amply repays me for the little trouble we may have
taken,” replied Mr. Sukolt. “Your proposition,” he added, looking the
young man gravely in the face, “is to take Bushy with you and have her
educated as a young lady should be?”
“Exactly; her talents might, perhaps, be cultivated in this solitude,
where she never sees a child, seldom a woman, and rarely anybody
outside the camp; but her character must be developed by coming in
contact with the world itself. Let me take her. It’s the best thing you
can do for the child.”
“She is the last link that binds me to life. You do not know what you
ask of me; yet, I have been conscious lately of a guilty feeling in
keeping her so long with me. The miners and myself have tried to think
we could give her all the education necessary, but I find that while
developing her rapidly in some ways, we are neglecting her in others,
quite as essential, perhaps. I know she needs the companionship of her
own sex.” His broad frame shook with emotion as he concluded, “You can
take her if she is willing.”
“Thank you,” replied Mr. Hamilton; “you will not regret placing her in
the care of my mother.”
“Your letters from home not only confirm that statement, but have
revealed to me the fact that I have met your father. I remember your
family well, and since I have decided to part with Bushy, I consider
myself very fortunate in being able to place her in the home of Dick
Hamilton, your father.”
“Hallo! Oh, Mr. Hamilton, is it really you?” cried the cheery voice of
Bushy as she burst into the office. “How do you do?”
Something in her father’s face told Bushy that Mr. Hamilton’s visit
had a serious meaning. She shook his hand, and then asked: “Anything
happened, Padre?”
“No, dear, I have just begun to realize that you are almost a woman and
quite old enough to go to school. So Mr. Hamilton and myself have been
planning to send you away for four or five years. And”--trying in a sad
way to make a joke--“he is doing all this because you lariated him,
Bushy.”
Bushy could not smile, but she listened bravely to the plans for her
future. Then she found an excuse to get away, and as soon as she was
by herself she broke into tears, but she was quieted down by the time
the men came home. At night the tears began to flow again and she cried
herself to sleep. It was decided that she was to start in two days for
Denver with Mr. Hamilton in the buckboard that carried the mail.