THE FACE AT THE WINDOW
All waited breathlessly for Elsa's answer. They knew her greed, or,
rather, why she hoarded her money so closely, and were not so
surprised, after all, when it came.
"No, I cannot."
"Can't? I should like to know why you can't?" demanded John Benton,
indignantly, though Mrs. Trent protested against his urgency by a nod
of her head.
"It is for the little one. It is mine. I want it already."
The ranch mistress at once extended the basket, but it was now the
carpenter's turn to object.
"Please, 'admiral,' not so fast. Let her tell us, first, how much
money she lost."
Elsa caught her breath. To save her life she could not have stated in
exact figures the sum, because, though she had known to a dime before
the robbery, at, and after that time, she had recklessly tossed aside
the little that remained. This wasted portion belonged with the whole
amount, and being as truthful as she was penurious, she hesitated. Her
color came and went, as she looked anxiously into John's face,
realizing that he had laid a trap for her and caught her in it.
But the mistress confronted her, saying:
"Never mind that, Elsa. I do not blame you for refusing to try
experiments with what you have so hardly earned and so nearly lost.
These are certainly your own little money bags, as I judge from their
knitted covers; but it is just possible there may have been other
money added to that was taken from you. So, tell me as nearly as you
can, what you had, and we will examine them all together."
This was wise, and commended itself even to the eager Elsa, who stated
promptly and proudly:
"Three t'ousand of the dollars it was. All gold. Big gold and littles
ones. In them bags was lost entirely. In the others--I don't know. Oh!
I don't know. It was much, much!"
It was Wolfgang's turn to interpose, and he did so, sternly:
"Elsa, wife! Three thousand dollars, and I not know it! How dare
you?"
"Ach! how not dare I? It was the new pick, or the new pushcart, or the
new everything, is it not so? Well, then, if one would save one need
not tell."
Mrs. Trent's face saddened, and, seeing this, Jessica impatiently
exclaimed:
"Oh, I hate money! It's always that which makes the trouble. It was
about money that those New York folks made such wicked charges against
my father. It was for a little money that you 'boys' were so quick to
ruin 'Forty-niner's' character. It was money, and the greed for it,
that changed Antonio from a good to a bad man."
"Hold on, captain. There wasn't ever any 'change' in him. He was born
that way."
"He was born a baby, wasn't he, John? All babies are good, I s'pose.
It's loving money has made Ferd do such dreadful things; and now, over
a little money, Wolfgang and Elsa are quarreling, though I never heard
them speak crossly to each other before. Oh, I hate it! Give it all
back to her, mother dear, and let us forget all that Pedro said. I,
for my part, hope his old copper mine will never be dug out."
Some who heard her laughed, but the mother grew even graver than at
first, and looked searchingly into her daughter's face. Again there
came to her mind the consciousness that the little girl was growing up
in a strange fashion; seeming both too wise and too simple for her
years. It could never be any different at Sobrante, where one and all
conspired to spoil her, though innocently enough, and from pure
affection. How could she, single-handed, combat these hurtful
influences?
The answer came swiftly enough in a second thought: "Money."
If there were but a little more of that power for good as well as evil
in her possession she could send the child to some fine school and
have her educated properly. The separation would be like death in life
to herself, but what true mother ever thought of self where her child
was concerned? Certainly, not Gabriella Trent. It was with a little
sigh that she put her arm about Lady Jess and drew her to her side,
saying:
"Here, daughter, you and John examine these bags together, while the
rest of us look on and tally for you. I want Elsa to have her own, at
once."
They moved the books and papers from the table, and Jessica emptied
the contents of the bags into one gleaming heap near the big lamp,
whose light gave an added radiance to the coins, making more than one
pair of eyes sparkle and stare. None could remember ever to have seen
so large an amount displayed outside a bank window.
Even John's hands trembled slightly as he began to count the double
eagles first, pushing each five of these toward his small co-laborer
and reckoning:
"One hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred--one thousand!"
"One thousand!" echoed Jessica, in turn handing the pile to her
mother, while the others watched, counting each for himself in
silence, ready to check any blunder that might be made.
That is, the men were silent, but Elsa and Aunt Sally rather disturbed
the proceedings; the former, by eagerly reaching out for the piles as
each was arranged before the mistress, and being as regularly rebuked
by the latter.
"There you go again, woman! How can they count right if you don't have
patience? Keep your hands still, do," said Mrs. Benton.
"Keep your tongue, mother, too. Two thousand!" rejoined John.
"Two--thousand!" cried Jessica, tallying. But her voice had now lost
its impatience, and she began to have a very different feeling in
regard to this "money," which looked so real, and was so much needed
at Sobrante. If Pedro's "copper" could be transmuted into shining
golden eagles, why, after all, she guessed she didn't hate it quite so
much.
"Three--thousand--and--ain't half--touched yet!" gasped Samson,
throwing up his great hands in a gesture of astonishment.
Elsa was also gasping then, and the expression of her face was
changing into one from which Mrs. Trent involuntarily turned her eyes.
Cunning and avarice predominated, and in the woman's throat was a
curious clicking sound, as if she had lost and were trying to find her
voice. Which, when found, seemed not to belong to the good-natured
Elsa, so changed it was:
"Ach, me! But I forgot already. I guess--it was not three t'ousand; it
was two times so much. That was seven t'ousand, is it not? The money
of this America--it so confuse, yes," and she tapped her forehead with
one fat finger, while her eyes grew beady, and seemed to shrink in
size as they gazed upon the wealth she coveted.
But Wolfgang would have none of this. He was as honest as the sun,
and, till that moment, had supposed his wife to be of one mind with
him. Indeed, honest she had been, in thought and deed, until that
terrible temptation was spread before her.
"Elsa! Elsa Winkler! Is it my wife you was and would lie--lie--for a
bit of that rubbish!"
"'Rubbish' is good," commented "Marty," under his breath, but nobody
smiled.
The woman cowered. Accustomed as she was to domineer over the
seemingly weak-willed man, there had been times, within her memory,
when he had thrown off her rule and asserted himself to a degree that
terrified her. She had stumbled upon one of those times now, and sank
back in her place with a deprecating gesture, advancing the flimsy
protest:
"Are they not my bags, so? Sewed I them not with my own hands out of
the skin of the little kid was killed? The covers I knitted with----"
The miner raised his hand, and she dropped her eyes before him.
"Give her what belongs, if you will, good lady, and let us be gone,"
he said, pulling his forelock respectfully to Mrs. Trent.
"Gone! Why no, Wolfgang, not to-night. It's a long way, and you should
wait till morning. Indeed, you should," she replied, at the same time
sending a questioning glance toward John Benton, and pushing toward
Elsa all the empty bags and three of the thousand dollar piles.
For the carpenter nodded swift acquiescence, on his part longing to be
rid of "them miserly Dutchmen, barring the man."
Elsa rapidly recounted, and bestowed the eagles within their
receptacles, and these again, wrapped in a handkerchief, within her
bosom. Then, as coolly as if she had not made an unpleasant exhibition
of herself, she turned to her hostess and smiled:
"I go now, mistress. I thank you already for one good time I have. It
is to buy the mine, one day, for my child. I must be going. Yes, I
must. The stew! Ach! how I forgot! The cat--it was a good stew, no?
And the cat has eat the stew!"
"Then you'd better stew the cat!" suggested Marty, with a facetiousness
to which she paid no heed.
Holding out her hand for Otto to take it, she commanded:
"Little heart, but come. It is in bed you should be, yes. Good-by,
all," adding in German, "May you sleep well!"
Wolfgang followed the retreating pair, but turned on the threshold to
make his obeisance to the ranch mistress, and to say, "At your
service, good lady. My pick and my head." Then, bowing again toward
all the company, he disappeared.
Everybody felt the relief of their departure, and Aunt Sally
humorously threw a kiss after them, remarking, with a sniff:
"Blessed be nothing, if somethin' is going to make a hog out of a
decent woman. That there Elsy'd been content with half she got if she
hadn't seen the rest that heap. I'm a good deal like Jessie, here. I
think money's the root of all evil."
"That ain't an original observation, mother, though you do speak as if
it was. Money's the root of a pretty consid'able comfort, too; and I'd
like to know, for one, where in creation all this that's left came
from," returned John.
"There's no doubt in my mind, that it came out of the Trent
pocketbook, every dollar of it!" said Samson. "But how it came into
Ferd's fist is more'n I can guess. Seems if even a half-wit would
steal from his own brother, and it must have passed through Antonio's
hands first."
"Antonio's brother!" cried Marty, incredulously.
"That's the true word. Pedro knew it, and the master knew it. The
'admiral' heard it, first, to-day; along with that other secret about
the copper. Ain't any harm in mentioning it, is there?" said Samson.
The lady laughed, and answered:
"Even if there were the harm is done, herder. But that's right. I wish
no secrets at Sobrante. I like to feel that we are all one family in
interests and affection, as my husband wished. And now remains this
gold. What is to be done with it? Where shall we bestow it that it may
be both safe and ready when needed?"
Aunt Sally immediately went and closed the door and locked it; then
fastened the windows and pulled the shades over them. At which a shout
arose that the old lady heeded not a whit. She clasped her hands over
her breast and her round face turned pale, as she whispered shrilly
enough for all to hear:
"We're undone! We're all undone! We're a passel of fools--and--and----
Oh, suz!"
Down she dropped into a chair, and there was no more laughter. She was
not a timid woman, and her fright was evident. Her son stepped to her
side and laid his hand on her shaking shoulder, demanding:
"What ails you, mother? What did you see? Why did you lock the
doors?"
"I--I----"
"Quit chattering your teeth together. What did you see?"
"Oh, son! I seen a--a--ghost!"
"Trash!"
Her courage began to return, and her anger to rise. She retorted
promptly:
"No trash! A ghost. A spirit! As sure as I'm a-settin' here this
minute; the spirit of--of----"
It aggravated John that she should pause and peep behind her, to be
sure the windows were still covered.
"The spirit of what tomfoolery has possessed you, mother, I'd like to
know? What's the use of scarin' folks half to death? As if we hadn't
had enough things happen without your cuttin' up, too!"
"Hold your tongue, John Benton, you sassy boy. As sure as I'm alive, I
saw the ghost of Antonio Bernal peeking in at that open window afore I
shut it. He was so white I couldn't tell him from paper, and so thin I
'peared to see clean through him."
"Pshaw, mother! You're overtired, and for once in your life really
nervous. I reckon it's the sight of more money than ever come your way
before. Well, forget it. 'Tisn't yours nor mine. We've no cause to
worry. I'll step and get you a drink of water and then you'll feel all
right, and would better go to bed."
"I don't want water, and I shan't go to bed. I shan't close my eyes
this night, John Benton, and you needn't touch to tell me so."
"All right. Stay awake if you like. It's nothing to me," answered the
exasperated man, who, in spite of his strong common sense, had been
more startled than he cared to admit, even to himself. But, glancing
at Mrs. Trent and Jessica, he now felt that it would be wiser to
express his own fear, which was of nothing supernatural.
"Mother's upset, 'admiral,' and don't you let her upset you, too. The
fact is, we're a very careless set at Sobrante, where everything
is--or used to be--all open and above board. It's a new thing for keys
to be turned on this ranch, and it's a new thing for us to go
suspecting one another of sneak notions. I, for one, am ashamed enough
of the way I've felt about old Ephraim Marsh, and if he don't show up
pretty soon, I'll make a special trip to Los Angeles to tell him so.
Even if I have to foot it the heft of the way.
"Howsomever, all the world ain't as honest as them that had the honor
of knowin' Cassius Trent. There's been a power of strangers on these
premises durin' these last days; and it stands to reason that among
'em one villain might have crept in. I ain't sayin' there was. I'll
never accuse nobody again--'cept--'cept----"
Here the honest fellow interrupted himself with a laugh; remembering
his ingrained suspicion of the two Bernals, which he would never even
try to overcome. But he went on again:
"Mother thinks she's seen somethin', and like enough she has. There
might be some scamp hangin' around; and if there was, and he looked
through that window and saw all this gold, I don't wonder his face was
ghosty-lookin', nor--Somebody stop me talking and answer this: Where's
the safest place to stow that pile?"
For a moment nobody replied. Mrs. Trent was wishing, most heartily,
that the money had never come into her possession, since she did not
know to whom she should restore it; and beginning to feel, with
Jessica, that "money" did carry discord and danger with it.
But the little captain was now all eagerness, and exclaimed:
"Oh! how I wish I'd seen it! Aunt Sally, I never saw a ghost in all my
life, never! I thought they were just make-believes, but if you saw
one, of course they're true. Do you s'pose we could see it again if we
went out to look? Will you go with me?"
"I? I! Well, I guess not. Not a step will I step----"
"But several steps I'll step, Mrs. Benton. I advise the money going
into the office safe, that old Ephraim uses when he's at home. One of
us better camp out on the lounge in the room there till we get rid of
whoever's cash that is. I'll bunk there myself, if you like, Mrs.
Trent, after I step outside and see if all's serene with my prisoner,"
said Samson, cheerfully.
"May I go with you, Samson? May I, mother?" asked Jessica.
The mother's consent was somewhat reluctant, for now she could not
bear to have her darling out of sight. Yet if anybody on earth was to
be trusted with so precious a charge it was the herder. Besides, she
was annoyed at this talk of "ghosts," and knew that the shortest way
to convince Jessica how nonsensical it was, would be by allowing her
to go out and seek for them herself.
But Samson answered cordially:
"You do me proud, little one. Suppose you take your rifle, and then,
if we see any specter you can pin it to the mission wall, and we'll
have a show, charging ten pins' admission."
They went out, laughing and gay; the child clinging to the giant's
hand, and hoping that she might really see the phantom of Aunt Sally's
story, for she had no fear concerning it. They came back, five minutes
later, looking grave and seriously alarmed.