NINIAN'S GREETING
Suddenly, out of the moonlit distance before them, appeared a strange
vision. A horse and his rider, as spotlessly white and gleaming as the
snow on the distant mountaintops, moving toward them as swift as the
wind and in supernatural silence. The eyes of the steed and its master
glowed with a wicked light that startled both the old frontiersman and
the modern scribe, and set Prince and Nimrod into paroxysms of
terror.
Rearing, plunging and backing, Ninian's mount had him soon on the
ground; and though Ephraim stuck to his saddle like a burr; he could
not hold his horse and get at his revolver in that one instant of the
appearance and disappearance of this strange "specter." It was
coming--it was upon them--it was gone; and the blast of cold air with
which it passed them set the horses shivering in an ague of fear, and
tied the men's tongues.
It seemed an age that they halted there in the open solitude, silently
stroking and soothing their frightened beasts, before either could
speak. Then "Forty-niner" found his voice and burst forth, absurdly:
"Drat--that--pocket!"
Ninian laughed; nervously, almost hysterically at first; then with
honest merriment, exclaiming:
"Oh, what a chance was lost there, comrade!"
"Whoa, boy, whoa, I tell you! There, there, steady now. Well, you
needn't throw it in my teeth if it was!" retorted the sharpshooter,
furiously. "Hang new pants!"
Ninian rolled on the ground and laughed afresh; then feebly observed:
"That's what I generally do with mine. But pockets! What of them?"
"Huh! it's all very well for you to lie there and snicker. I lost the
chance of my life that time. What's the use of a repertation for
hittin' a pin at the distance I have if you can't hit a fool when he's
close alongside?"
"Referring to me?" asked the reporter, sweetly.
"Yes, if the coat fits. Drat that pocket!"
"Poor pocket! Who made it?"
"That pesky Sally Benton. The one was in burst right through, and she
sewed this one so tight at the top----Huh! I believe she done it
a-purpose."
"To be sure she did. If I remember correctly that estimable woman was
opposed to bloodshed and preferred corporal punishment. I suppose she
feared you might do what you attempted to do and----"
"Shut up your shallow talk, young man!" ordered Ephraim, with so much
venom that the other realized his mirth was ill-timed and grew
serious.
"What was the thing, anyway, Marsh?"
"That's more than I know, but just what I would have known if I'd hit
it with a bullet. That's the 'spook' Aleck warned us of. It's been
kitin' round the country ever since that first night after Pedro died.
Some say it's the ghost. It 'pears to be wrapped in a white blanket
and wears it same as he did. He had a white horse once that had
outlived all the horses ever was, I reckon; and the Simple Simons all
about us claim that it's the Indian's spirit on the Indian's horse,
a-ridin' round 'count of some trouble why he can't rest. There was a
letter thrown into our settin' room night before last, in poor
printing enough, too; and it said that Pedro had been banished from
the happy hunting grounds on account of a secret he'd told; and a
warning everybody not to touch to try and find the place the secret
told about. It scared the mistress pretty bad, though she didn't let
on much. The captain laughed, of course. She always laughs at
everything; and Mrs. Benton--well, she just pinned the paper in her
bosom, and says she: 'I'll know where that is when it's needed.' She's
some sense, Sally has, though nothing to boast of, and she's a mighty
good sewer of patchwork, though she's no good at pistol pockets. Well,
shall we go on?"
Ninian had remounted his horse, which still was restless and ill to
manage, and Prince was capering about in a fantastic fashion that,
however, was not greatly different from his behavior earlier in the
evening; and the reporter had satisfied himself that there was nothing
now to be seen of the apparition which had flashed upon them and
disappeared on the road back to Marion.
"Yes, let's go on. And I hope the least that will happen will be the
arrival of that 'spook' at Aleck McLeod's cheerful inn. I'd give much
to see his face if it did appear."
"Oh! it's been there already; last night. The kitchen window was
raised so softly none but Janet could have heard it, and before she
could get to it, a white, skinny hand came through and snatched up a
quail pie she'd baked for breakfast and off sooner'n she could catch
it. She was so mad about the pie that, for a minute, she forgot to be
scared; then it came over her that she'd been cookin' ghost's
victuals, and she shivered all the rest the night. She wouldn't ever
let Aleck far out of sight, she's so fond of him, but now he can't
stir three foot away. Every man I met has something fresh to tell of
how his women folks have been worried by the thing; and if somebody
doesn't settle his spookship mighty sudden, we'll have all the females
in hysterics; and something we've never needed in this valley yet, and
that's a doctor. There won't be a nerve left anywhere."
Ninian laughed again; adding, a moment later: "Not just the sort of
place to send a nervous-prostration patient, is it, after all? But
what's your own speculation concerning the nuisance?"
"Let me tell you the whole business, so far forth as I've heerd it
since I came home. Then you can form your own mind on it and see how
best to help my folks out their troubles; 'cause I ain't trying to
hide that was my reason for wanting you to come. You'd helped us so
much with the title affair I knew you'd unravel this skein. But I'm
powerful glad to see you, all the same, and I do hope you'll get as
much good for yourself out the visit as I want the mistress to get."
The horses were now somewhat quieted by a long stretch of the level
road, over which they had been allowed to travel at their own pace,
and talking was easier. Ephraim gave in detail the story of Pedro's
visit and gift of the wand; of the many strange incidents of the last
few days; of Ned's serious illness, caused by fright, Aunt Sally
declared, but, as his mother thought, by too much rich food and an
overdose of candy; and how, though he had repeatedly been heard about
the premises, nobody had as yet actually seen Antonio Bernal. However,
at present, little was thought of but the suffering children; for Luis
had remained true to his character of "echo" and had himself, that
very day, been put to bed with the same high fever which was
tormenting Ned.
"You see, though it's getting Christmas time and everything ought to
be lovely, we're about as badly off as a family can be. All the same,
if anybody in this world can cheer the mistress it'll be yourself, Mr.
Sharp, and I'm powerful glad you've come."
For the rest of the ride they were mostly silent; each man revolving
in his mind the most plausible explanation of Antonio's behavior, in
his would-be mysterious hiding, and his terrorizing of the little
lads.
Finally, Ninian expressed his own opinion:
"It's perfectly natural he should drift back to Sobrante, even with
all the opprobrium that would attach to him there. It is his home. He
believed or pretended to believe, that it was also his birthright. He
knows nothing that would bring him a livelihood in the city----"
"Except gambling," interrupted Ephraim, contemptuously.
"If he tried his hand at that even, he'd fail. He hasn't the head to
plot deeply. His maneuvers are all childishly transparent, and this
last one--h'm! Have you connected his 'highness' with this spook
business?"
"No, sir; and you needn't. That Antonio Bernal is the biggest coward
above ground. Why, bless me! even if he'd had gumption enough to
concoct such a scheme he wouldn't have the nerve to carry it out.
He'd be afraid of himself! Fact! No, siree. Top-lofty never had a hand
in this," answered the elder man.
Ninian said no more but kept his suspicions revolving in his own mind;
yet was far more absorbed in the possibility that "Forty-niner" had
suggested, of the copper vein in the canyon, than by anything else he
had heard. They had ridden on again, each silent, till the lights of
Sobrante came into view; then Ephraim remarked:
"Reckon the little tackers ain't much better. The mistress don't
gen'ally keep lamps lit as late as this, 'less something's wrong. Oh!
I hope there's no more death and disappointment on our road. 'Twould
break Mrs. Trent's heart, indeed, if she lost Ned."
Ninian roused himself from his reverie, and answered, lightly:
"For such a cheerful fellow as I remember you, even when you were
first laid up in hospital, you're degenerated sadly. What in the name
of common sense is the use of prognosticating evil, when good is just
as likely to come?"
"Huh! I'm consid'able older than you, young man," retorted the
sharpshooter, perversely.
"All the more reason you should be more hopeful. What's happened to
you besides these external troubles? Something on your own account,
eh? If so, believe me you have my hearty sympathy and my right hand to
help you, if you need it."
Ephraim checked Prince so shortly that the animal reared on his
haunches, and pushing his hat from his brow regarded the visitor with
a sad but grateful countenance. Then he spoke, and his tones were
husky with subdued emotion:
"Thanks, friend. I took to you the first time my old eyes lit on you
and I've leaned on you, in my mind, ever since. There is something 'at
worries me, but it's so slight I shan't put it into words--yet. I've
got work to do still for them I love and that love me. Which I might
maybe sum up in one small person--my precious Lady Jess. God bless
her! Ay, God bless her! From the crown of her sunny head to the tips
of her dainty feet, she's the truest, squarest, tenderest creature the
Lord ever sent to lighten this dark world. They all love her, every
one of them rough, hard-handed sons of toil whom she calls her 'boys';
but there isn't one, not one, can begin to love her as I do. Not one.
It is she that makes me still keep a little faith----There, there!
what an old fool I am! But, thanks, all the same, and don't you forget
I'm your own to command if need comes. Shake, neighbor, and may your
age be----Giddap there, Prince! Let'son, lad; let's get on."
Ninian did get on, but again silently pondering that here again was
something mysterious in this honest octogenarian's mood. There was an
undercurrent of sorrow which, he was sure, was wholly distinct from
the anxieties of his mistress and her household, and he wondered what
it might be. Surely, for an old man, though wifeless and childless he
had much to make him happy. The devotion of the family in which he had
lived for so long, his comfortable home, his freedom from care
concerning his future--to the young man struggling amidst a crowd of
competitors to make a place for himself in the world, it seemed as if
the venerable sharpshooter had cause for nothing but rejoicing.
However, these might be mere imaginations, and best banished for the
present.
Ephraim made straight for the house, and the sound of the horses'
footfalls brought figures flying to the open doors; most welcome of
these in the eyes of the two men, the small one of Jessica herself,
her head stretched forth as she peered into the night, and the
lamplight behind her making a radiance about her golden head and
slender gracefulness. But she poised there on the threshold only for
an instant, till she was sure what animals these were, then darted
toward them with uplifted hands and a cry of delight:
"They've come! Oh, mother, they've come!--they've come!"
Another moment and the reporter had slipped from his saddle and had
caught up the little girl, more glad on his own part than he would
have once thought possible to have her once more beside him.
"Yes, captain, here we are! But did you expect us--or me? And how
could you tell that we were not strangers?"
"Why, don't you suppose I'd know the step of any horse for ours? And
though Nimrod is yours now I know him like--like a brother. Don't I,
dear fellow?" and from Ninian's clasp she ran to embrace the down-bent
head of the thoroughbred.
On his side, Nimrod was equally rejoiced. His velvet nostrils caressed
the little girl's cheeks and flowing hair, while his dainty forefoot
gently pawed the ground in expression of delight and not impatience.
Prince stood looking on, unmoved. He was not Sobrante raised and
seemed to feel it; or so Jessica fancied, as she left off petting
Nimrod and passed to Prince's side, to stroke his head also, and to
murmur words of praise for good behavior in bringing Ephraim safely
home.
Then "Forty-niner" led the beast away, while Jessica sped after
Ninian, who had been greeted--almost grasped--by Aunt Sally. She had
drawn him indoors, laughing, crying, whispering, entreating, all in a
breath:
"Oh, oh, oh, land of Goshen! My suz! If you ain't the gladdest sight
I've seen this dog's age! How are you, how are you? Slim? You
certainly do look slim," she declared, as she led him into the
radiance of the lamp and critically peered into his face, both through
and above her spectacles.
"Well, my good friend, I never was anything but slim, as I remember.
And I have been just a bit ailing, if that's your meaning. However,
I'm all right now, most delighted to be here, and wholly at your
service or that of anybody else who needs me. How are the children?
Ephraim said that they were ill. And Mrs. Trent?"
As if in answer to his questions, there was a patter of bare feet on
the stairs and in came Luis, his great dark eyes looking twice their
normal size and his voice shrill with excitement, as he tried to say:
"Ned--Ned's gone and got--and got--Ned's gone got gone roof. Oh, oh!"
Mrs. Benton dropped Ninian's hand which she had continued to hold and
shake up and down, much in the manner of one pumping water, and caught
up the child to also shake him vigorously:
"Hi! What's that you say? Don't you dare to tell auntie a story.
What's Neddy----Oh, my land! all the catnip's gone out of my life,
seems if!"
The reporter and Jessica looked at each other and burst into
laughter. It was impossible to help it, Aunt Sally's manner had been
so droll and yet so dramatic; and, oddly enough, over Ninian there
stole again the feeling that he had come home, and that the griefs
and perplexities of this household had become his own. With that
his merriment was over, for the fear Mrs. Benton's face had
betrayed was sincere.
Jessica, also, had sobered instantly, and catching her guest's hand
hurried him impulsively upward, crying:
"He's done it again! Oh, if mother sees him it will frighten her to
death!"
They reached the upper floor and the end of the hall which divided it
into two sections, and from whence a ladder ran upright to a trapdoor
opening on the sloping roof. The scuttle had been left open for
ventilation, and up this steep stairway Luis was pointing with wild
gestures.
Again Aunt Sally caught and shook the little fellow, but he could make
no better business of talking than before. Jessica had not waited for
more than one glance into the empty chamber where the sick children
had been cared for, since it was more quiet than the customary
bed-room below; and that glance, added to Luis' gesticulations, told
her story.
"Oh, he's walking in his sleep again! He's gone on the roof!"
The next the reporter realized she had climbed the ladder and
disappeared through the scuttle. He forgot that he was, or had been,
ill, and followed her, only to pause at the sight which met him as his
head protruded through the opening. It was a house of many gables, and
upon the peak of the farthest one poised Ned in his night-clothes,
slowly swinging his arms in the circular fashion children adopt
preparatory to a leap or spring.
"One!" counted the childish voice. "Two!"
Ninian closed his eyes, as if by so doing he might shut his ears to
the final "Three!" which would mark the fatal leap.