The Storyteller.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXV, Issue 2069, 21 December 1907, Page 3 (Supplement)

The Storyteller.

A TENDERFOOT’S WOOING. 11V

CL lV E l 'II t CLIPS-WOOIXE V. Author of "Gold, Gold iu Cariboo,” Xho Chicniuiii Stone,” etc. tAll nights reserved.)

CIIA PTKit XXV. —Continued. W hen Anstrutlier mid gone to get the eii’.ds Holt turned to Combs: ••Is it any good keeping this From the ladies? Tiny might prevent Ills going if the lou should Fall, to turn. .Nothing vise will’, and i don’t believe that he could sit a horse for a. mile. •Hit ribi can’t be knit yet.” "Don't you worry about that colt. Boss. He ain't used to our rtnge yet. but lie's a bit of good stuff amt lender nor you think. Let him be and give hint a tail' show. It's five to one against his getting the deal anyway. But you kin toil the ladies. They aren’t the sort to holler.” "Thank you. Al, old triend. I knew v.e might come in.” It was Alary Unit herself who spoke, luring come in quie-ty whilst the men talked, with Kitty by her side, whose young beauty was woefully marred by the strain of" the last few days. If anyone had had time to notice such things then, he might have been struck by the contrast between the two women. A face, is after all, only the window which a- soul looks through, so that whereas the pink and white hud died from Kitty’s soft cheek, the pretty curls lost their soft coquetry, the dimple became almost a hollow, and she herself it very worn and wistful shadow of the spoiled darling of the rmiebe, in> the other woman the strain bad only emphasised every brave line in her clear-cut face, made firmer the curve of hier sweet Bps, and given depth .to her tfenrlers eves. Holt looked at her, and in his eyes was the pride without which love is not perfect. "You know what we are going to do. Alary, and voit know that 1 am cutting with the rest?” "Of course. You could do nothing less. I will cut first for you, Dick. Lowest deals, of course?” ■She had east the cards on. the table and now stood facing the men, a tall, slight figure, as calm to all outward seeming as if this were but the beginning cf a game of bridge. "Yes, ma'am. Lowest deals, as you say,” replied Al, with a great smile in his deep wrinkles, and under his breathJts muttered: "Holy smoke, ain’t she a peach?” "Ace high?” "Ace high it is” “Then I cut- for my husband. AYlioever cuts the lowest card makes the first- attempt.” For a, moment, her eyes rested on Dick Dolt, and perhaps her lips trembled : they are the only part of the

face which no one can control; hut if they did, it was so slightly that' no one in the room could have sworn to it, and if slier sat down: somewhat .suddenly when she had turned up the knave ,of diamonds, she had reason enough to be tired, and tho room, was hot. At once Jim, Al, and Anstruthcr went to the table together, but Mrs Dolt held up her hand. “In. order ‘of precedence please, gentlemen.” And then with a little curl about lior lips: “Our guest comes first,”and young Fa.irclou.gh came from his corner with somewhat overdone nonchalance and turned a. card quickly. “No hick,” ho said as he turned up a nine. "You'don’t know yet, Air Fairdough,” she said sweetly. “Tho forom.tn next.” Jim Combe hesitated a. moment and a. queer smile spread over his face. He remembered that if a pack of cards is shot over a smooth surface,

lb Jo IIU-b g ll c‘J’-j 'ivni-uv. win. law car:ls will .be, the least painted offering the least resitance and he .picked hiis card carefully. •His rule was justified. The card ho chose had only one pip on. if., hut for a. momejit his face clouded. Then he smiled again. “Aco low ycxu said, ‘Mrs Holt?” “I thought that Jim Combo was a Etpia.ro player,” .she Slid, hut there was uo censure in her tones. “You know the rule, Jim. Stand hack. Your turn, AI.” “Clive mo a. little ’mi, Ma'am.” She hesitated. It is not pleasant to send an old friend to his death, and the cards which had been cut ■were all high. “You want mo to cut for you, Al?” “If the Boss don’t mind, Ma.’nm.” Belt nodded to her to .humor the old man, biTt her hand shook as she turned up a. fivo of spades. "Oh, Al, I’m so sorry.” "Then you ain’t got no call to he. It's what I asked for, ain’t, it, and I .mostly asks for what I want,” and he swung gailly round on his heels to leave the room. “Hold on, All" said a quiet voice at his elbow, "there is one more to cut yet.” " daint no use, Mr Anstrutlivr. joii ain’t fit to go, and there ain’t anything there no lower than a five.” . “There are three lower, Al. If 3011 please, .Mrs Holt.” ■Mrs •Holt, looked up into the quiet smiling face, and saw a light in ft winch she had never iseen before. It was as if Anstnitber knew .what lay in store for him and the knowledge made him hold his head more ly“Ho is right, Al. You pledged youiTolvcs that ali should cut. Take your curd, -Frank.” As she spoke. Kitty Clifford moved from her friend's side uncertainly tow 1 id,3 Anstruther, and then Stood i hesitating, her lips trom'hliing'.and her j sweet eyes full of unshed tears. ! “What is it, Kitty? Do you want! to cut for him?” I She tried to answer, hut no sound j came from lre-r. parted lips. j “Shall she cut for you, Frank?” j “Will you. Miss Clifford—Kitty?”,

and he held out his hand to her. .For 1 a moment .the hoy and girl stood cbero ' hand in hand before tint altar of chance, forgetful of the world and reckless of the 'betrayal of their secret. " .

It- was a strange betrothal, but such it- seemed to all those who saw them lu a silence which could be felt, tin gill's white hand began to move uncertainly over the pack, touching a

card here and another there, ns .1' afraid to choose. 'The others had drawn their lots at on.ee. To them it seemed that minutes elapsed -whilst that little -hand wandered over the table, ami each man prayed iu Iks own fashion that she might choose n-right.* At last, like a child who tears to see the knife, she shut her eyes, and clutching a- card, held it up to Anstrutlier, over whose face a proud smile spread as bright and geivunie a- daylight. "Thank you, dear. You have saved my honor. You don't- mind If I spoil your pack, Atrs Dolt. I sliad want this card by and bye more than you will.” and kissing it lie put it into his breast pocket.

But Kitty caught at bis hand and :«rird to. him to show it to her. "A r.-oilier time. dear. It is the ,on card in. tho world .for me."

"What, was if, Frank? Show >t to me. oh, show it to me!" "Xot now. Kitty,” and bending down lie kissed her white brow before them all, and with his arms round her waist, half led, half carried her to Atrs Dolt.

"Take her away now. For God's sake take her a,way!" he said, and Atrs Dolt led Kitty sobbing from the

"Oh. Afary 1 Alary! f have killo-:, him. Frank—” But Frank Anstruther stood back from the weak pleading hand, and as the two women left the room, n's was the only face left in it on which there was no sign'of sorrow. When the door closed he sat down on tho edge of the table and began to roll a- cigarette. “Let’s-see that card, partner. Aon ain't putting up a job'on ns? ’ "Xo. Al. There it is.” and lie showed him the two ol hearts. "Holy smoke ! The *wo spot! She couldn’t have drawed a lowei if she d tried to!” “Or better. Luck is for the young, Al.” and this curiously-mi-niej young man from Piccadilly began to bum a light air to himself, the words oT ■which were: "He ain’t no good about the house Ho c-ain’t cut wood.” CHAPTER XXYI. "You said, Combe, that I should not be able to find my way to 'Soil.: Creek?” Aiisbrutlier was still sitting on tlie table rolling lus. cigarette. “In the dawk. It would not be light all the time you were on tlie road. But you don’t have to. It- is not likely wo are going to let you suckle after that.” Anstruther smiled a little superciliously. “That- has nothing to dp with the question. Would you mind coining here for a. moment?” and he went to the window. “That is the road to Sod.i Creek; the way we came?” Combe nodded'. "But that is the direct way, as the crow flies?”

“Yes, only there’s a hit of a canyon in the way.” “I know. But. after?” “There wouldn’t be any after. ; There’s no way across the canyon until you come to the place where the road crosses it. It’s a hundred feet deep with sides like tlie walls of a house.” “If there was a bridge across it, it would shorten the distance, by a mile wouldn’t it?” "Yes, by two, I should think. But the.ro isn’t any bridge and the Indians ain’t going to wait whilst we build one.” "Could one bo built? How wide is the Pan-yon?” "Not more than twenty or thirty feet at the Buck’s Jump. It- couTd

be bridged there easily enough, but what's the good of talking; it ain’t bridged.” “ Where is the Buck’s Jump. There. isn’t it?” J “Yes, right against that big lone

pino with tTw> broken top.’ 5 “Very nearly in a. direct line for Soda Creek?” “In a plumb straight line. That pine might have been put there for a surveyor's post.” “So .I thought,” said A 11st.ruthe;. and he stood there measuring the distance with his eye, and noting the land-marks. Combo watched him and at last with 11.11 obvious effort he said: “Forgive me, -Anstruther. .Perhaps you don’t think it is my business, but I’ve got to speak. I know just how you feel, and it’s the way a. manonght to feel, but you know you can’t go now. It wouldn’t lie a square, deal to Miss Clifford.” “Leave Miss Clifford's name out of the question please. I’m very much obliged to you for what you suggest, hut there are some things you don’t understand. I'm going, and there’s an end of it.” “When ?” “When I am ready,” Anstruther answered curtly, and left the room. . “Pretty rough on them kiddies ain’t it, Jim?” said Al, when Anstni-idi-er had left the room, “and she dead struck on him. But I guess lie’s right.” “Right?” snorted Combe. “Right : Just to think of himself? Mo, I don't thing he is right, and I’ll take blanked good c.llO as ho'doesn.’t do it.” Whatever Al was going to .say wat lost, for at that moment the call sounded from the upper story. The rifles wore wanted at the windows. With, a rush the two men went tc their places, and for the next twenty minutes they had their whole attention occupied by what they saw from their A cloud of dust was coining towards them at railway speed, and at first they flattered themselves that Horsely and Ids specials had broken tine cor- ! don and were coming to their relief, ! But the rider:, v.ho emerged from tin J cloud were Cid!- ’tens, reckless, wliop- ! ing devil's, p.rrted as none of the white men had ever before seen 1 1I diaiis painted in British Columbia. ! their greasy plumes drooping from I their heads to half way between, their , shoulders.

At break-neck gallop they rode to within a hundred yards of the house, and then like a flight of starlings they diverged, following their leader in single file in a. wild circuit round the building, brandishing their weapons

uid discharging them in mid career. In spite of the pace at which they came several bullets struck the bouse, and one was «o well-aimed that it mulshed through a chest of drawers behind wheh. Holt was kneeling; but one of the Indians’ horses pitched on its head ami before its rider could extricate himself sever il bullets found

him. ‘■Only tin' cantor past I fancy, Al,” said Holt coolly, blowing tho smoko : out of liis ’barrels. “Where is Anstruther?” “I seed him go into his room as we ciimo upstairs, lie hasn’t 'been up here to see the show. ‘He’s up to his neck in them trunks of his, I reckon.” “What?” “Kinder sortin’ out his duds and Setting good and ready for his passear.” Jim glanced quickly through the window and saw that the Indians were already Jelling iback to their lines. Then he put his rifle up against the wall and left the room quietly. A 1 noticed him and seemed about to follow him, but thought better of it and muttering “Let ’em settle it themselves. It ain’t m.v funeral.” Kept his place at the window. Austruther’s door was wide open, hut from where lie stood Jim could not see into the room, neither could ho hear anyone moving in it. hut to prevent accidents lie sat down and took off his boots, and then with them in his hand, stole quietly along the passage, and peeped through between the door and tiro jamb. Anstruther had gone, 'but the. room could not ho said to ibo empty, for the floor of it was covered with mountains of clothes as Jim had never dreamed of, piled poll moll in a greatheap whilst, as he said afterwards, there lvore “hoots enough for a battalion, and coats like blankets at a potlatch.” As he looked he heard the horses stamping in tho kitchen. “Going is he? I’m blanked if he shall!” he muttered, and without stopping to think, lie ran down into the kitchen l . But the sight which met him there staggered Jim Combe, so that hostood gaping ’with his hoots .still in his hand. Anstruther in full, hunting costume, pink coat, immaculate leathers, top lint, and gloves, turned and l faced him. His horse, looking enormous alongside the weedy country-hi'eds, was standing as still as a sheep in the middle, of the room facing the window, from which. Anstruther had contrived to take the saslus-. “IVliat in—” “Going to -bed. Jim?" asked Anstruther easily, interrupting him and looking with a. grin at Combo’s boots. “Sorry to bother you, but before you turn in you might put those up again forme,” and he pointed to tho sashes. “But —” ■ “Say I’ll be hack soon:: so long!” and. before Combe had realised iwliat was happening. Anstruther swung cleverly into his saddle, and put his horse at the window. Combe saw Anstrutheir touch the great horse with his heel, heard has “Up, boy,” as they came to tho low window sill, and then the beast's great quarters were gathered beneath it and like a. cat, or, to be more exact, a. well-broken Heythaxip hunter. Ruddy-gore reared and popped over into space. The little cramped jump would have done more to unseat Combe than the worst buck, but the man from Pieca- ■ dilly sat as if he was in a, rocking i chair. So quietly had Anstruther made his I preparations, and tho Indian’s feint had served him so well, that, with the single exception of Jim Combe, no one bad any idea that he meant to start before night fall until they saw him from the. windows, trotting quietly towards the Indians, who had just returned to their lines, their horses a trifle pumped hy the wild gallop they had indulged in. For a hundred yards he. trotted quietly, and then stopping unconcernedly as if lie had been at a meet in liis own country, he turned and imtcovered to the ladies, smiling 'and calling a message to them, the words of which they could not catch. Considering the probability of a volley, it was very gallant fooling, and ■worthy of the good sportsman he looked, and at any rate it was better and more merciful to Kitty than ni tearful leave-taking. Perhaps he meant it so, but Anstruther was never one of those who • parade their good intentions. lieplacing his hat and waving his hand to them, ho turned in his saddle, and at a quiet trot rode steadily ! towards the Indian lines, the great horso reaching at liis bit, and showing plainly how good the turf feltunder his feet after so many days oii'a boarded floor. “Great heavens! The hoy has gono mad!” cried Holt. “Can no one stop him?” “Best, let linn play his own hand now, Boss,” growled Al, whoso eyes were beginning to glitter with excitement and understanding. “Ho knows his long suit. None of ns do. Maybe lie’s going to play peace-maker.” This may indeed have been the idea which kept the Indians quiet, though that could hardly have been All’s reading of the riddle, or tho old mail’s thin nostrils would not have been working so nervously, and though such an attire as Anstruther’s would have been in keeping with the traditions of the old-time Hudson Bay factors when going to solemn meeting, he carried no white flag, or other wilfully misleading embCcni. But lie rode unarmed. Except for liis horn-handled hunting crop, he carried nothing, and in this fashion, restraining his horse to the steadiest trot, lie advanced to within fifty yards of the wondering Chilcotens without a sliot fired or a word spoken, whilst Ids friends watched him with their hearts in their mouths. At fifty yards from the Indian lines la dozen voices challenged him, lmt he rode on as if he had been deal', without haste or without pause. Then there was a clank of "Winchester pumps, and a rifle went up to a redskin’s shoulder. Before the butt touched flesh, in the last second of grace, Anstruther spoke to his horso, and touched him with liis spurs, so that the gallant beast, unused to such treatment, sprang madly forward on the instant, whilst its rider bent over its shotifder and rodo it headlong into the volley which belched forth to meet him. “Give ’em hell! Oh give ’em hell!” screamed old Al, at tho window, losing all control of himself, his face working with excitement, "Didn’t I say the colt was ciar grit? He’s through ’em, I tell you. Miss Kitty, look! Don’t shut your eyes, lassie. Your man’s clear through ’em.”

And lie ivas. A beast coining at you is tlio hardest mark to hit. A man in-deadly earnest is oven harder, especially when-you don’t expect him, and calculating upon this, and timing his dash to a moment, tho man from I’icend illy lin'd ridden right over tho nearest group) of Chilcotens, knocking ono down with his horse, and breaking old Klielowna’s head with his riding crop as he passed, and now ho was going “ilicketty Urindle,” as old A 1 would put it, on the far side of the enemy’s Hines, whilst they scrambled to their horses instead of stopping to shoot. So far ho had done well, hilt in a glance liis friends realised that his gallant effort had been wasted. Instead of turning to his left and making for the road, in which case he would have had a clear eourso, and two hundred yards start, lie was heading for Soda Creek as tho crowflies. r, Ho has forgotten tho canyon,” groaned -Jim Combo. ‘‘Ho l-.ain’t dono no such thing.” contradicted Al. ‘‘That’s what lie’s a-pllaying for.” Jim l.iokod at the old man and understood. “He nn’t do it. No horse could.” “He cm. A buck couldn’t. A horse co-.hln’t, but lie’s a goin’ to. Great Scott! Seo that!” ,

Perhaps a dozen Indians followed directly in Anstrutlier’s footsteps, liko a pack of hounds running in view, but tho main body of them, realising their quarry’s mistake, skirted, making for tho dip where the road went through, to which they imagined ho must eventually come if he would cross the canyon. For half a mile tho going was good, linn', grass-covered cattle land, and over this the red coat sailed, going two lengths for every one covered by liis pursuers. But beyond this for several hundred yards the land was boggy, and when Al siic/ke, Anstruther slipped out of the saddle, and ran by his horse’s 6ide, whilst tho Indians seeing this, made desperate efforts to overtake him, and played their horses clean out.

Once through tho little hog, he was ill the saddle again, cantering easily, unitfl, to those watching lie seemed on the very brink of tho canyon, with tho broken pino close on Ins right. Then he shook his horse together, crammed liis hat on his head, and went- at his death hands down. When it was over, a fair-liaircd girl

To five i>eople still alive, there is one second in their past lives which was more than a day Jong, sank quietly to tho ground, and for tlie first timo in her life Mrs. Rolt iliil not move to help a sister in trouble. She could not. Her great eyes were wide with the hunger of seeing; her little hands clenched, and her parted lips white; and when Al, speaking as if ho were in church, whispered: “I take it all back about them duds. Tliero ain’t no flies on fox-hunting,” tlie others burst into hysterical laughter which was perilously near tears, for the red coat had' cleared tho canyon. “Jomped it, by gum, jomped it clar!” as the old song says, and was sailing laway a dim pink spot, straight as tho crow flies for Soda Creek.

Does tlie story want finishing? Before Anstruther had ridden for a couple of hours, a large posse of men camo over a rise and were startled by tlie vision of a white-faced madman riding across the Chilcoten country in tho uniform of the Vale Hunt; moreover, the madman was so mad that he could barely speak intelligibly, and he appeared to be swooning from pain, though on him was no trace of a wound. Thoy brought, him back with them to tho rancho from which at their approach the Chilcoten vanished like the mists of morning, and it was Horsely the leader of the posso who,' a month later, talking to Jim Combe over a pipe, said: “Like will to like. Jim. She’d never have made a wife for. you, old chap. You’ll have to plug along same as wo all do until - you find another Mrs. Rolt—if tho world holds one.” (The End.)