BAT WING BOWLES.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LII, Issue 15930, 29 May 1915, Page 3 (Supplement)

BAT WING BOWLES.

BY DANE COOLIDGE, 'W' l ' . Author of , " Hidden Water" and " Tho ■'\ Tcxican." . ;•*'

CHAPTER I.

MR. BOWLES.

It was a fine windy morning in March and Dixie Lee, of Chula Vista, ; Arizona, was leaving staid New York at the gate marked "Western, Limited." A slight difference with the gatekeeper, who seemed to doubt every word she said, cast no cloud upon her spirits, and she was cheerfully searching for her ticket when a gentleman came up from behind. At sight of the trim figure at the wicket, he too became suddenly happy, and it looked as if tho effete East was lowng two of its merriest citizens.

"Oh, good" morning. Miss Lee!" he said, bowing and smiling radiantly as 6ho glanced in his direction. " Are you going out on this train!"

"Why— she replied, gazing into her handbag with a preoccupied frown. "That is, if I can find my ticket!" She found' it on the instant, but the frown did not depart. Sho had forgotten tho young man's name. It was queer how ! those Now York name* slipped her memory—but she remembered his face distinctly. She had m , him at some high-brow affair— was a reception or some such social maelstrom—and, yes, his namo was Bowles!

j "Oh, thank you, Mr. Bowles," sho exclaimed as he gallantly took her bag; but a furtivo glanco at his face left her suddenly transfixed with doubts. Not that his expression changed—far from that— but a fleeting twinkle in his eyes suggested some hidden joke.

"Oh, isn't your name Bowles?" she stammered. "1 met you at the Wordsworth Club, you know, and—"

" Oh, yes-quite right!" ho assured her politely. " You have a wonderful memory for names, Miss Leo. Shall we go on down to your car!"

Dixie Leo regarded the young man questioningly and with a certain, Western disfavour. He was one of those trim and proper creatures that seemed to haunt Wordsworth societies', welfare meetings, and other culture areas known only to the cognoscente- and stern-eyed Eastern aunts. In fact, he seemed to personify all those qualities of breeding and education which a long winter of compulsory "finishing" had taught her to despise; and yet—well, if it were toot for his clothes and manners and the way he dropped his "r's" he' might almost pass for human. But she luHew his name wasn't Bowles.

There had been a person there by the name of Bowles, but tho hostess had mumbled when sh« presented this one— and they had s talked quito a little, too. She glanced at him again and a question trembled on her lips; but names were nothing out where sho came from, and 6he let it go for Bowles. '* ■ V

The hypothetical Mr. Bowles was a tall and slender young man, of a type that ordinarily maddened her beyond all reason and prompted her to say" cruel things which she was never sorry for afterward. He had a clear complexion, a Cupid's bow mouth, and eyes as innocent as a girl's. They were of a deep violet hue, very soft and soulful, and had a truly cultured way 'of changing—when ho talked— mirror a thousand shades of interest, courtesy and concern; but tho way they flickered when he took: over the name of Bowles suggested arrial man, behind the veil. His manners, of course, were irreproachable; and not even "a: haberdasher, could' take exception to his clothes. He was, in fact; attired strictly according to tho mode, in a close-fitting suit of striped "grey, with four-inch cuffs above his box-toed shoes, narrow shoulders, and a low-crowned derby hat, now, all the rage but affected for many years only by Dutch comedians, j

' When he removed this ,hat, which he did whenever he stood in her presence, he revealed a". very fine head of hair which hid been brushed straight back from his forehead until each strand knew its separate place; and yet, far from being pleased at this final evidence of conscientious endeavour, Dixie Slay received him almost with a sniff.

"And are you really on your way to Arizona, Miss Lee!". he inquired, carefully leaving the "r" out of" are" and putting the English on "really." "Why, how fortunate! I am going West myself! Perhaps' we can renew our acquaintance on the way. ' Those were jolly stories you were telling mo at the Wordsworth Club —very improperly, to he sure, but all the more interesting' on that account." About the round-up cook, you know, and the man who couldn't say * No.' Nothing like that in California, I suppose. I'm off for Los Angeles, myself." " All right," answered Dixie Lee, waving California airily aside; "Arizona is good enough for me! Say, I'm going to ask this man where my section is." She fished out her Pullman ticket and showed it to a waiting porter, who motioned her down tho train. '

"The fourth car, lady," he said. «' Car Number Four!" v "Car Four!'" cried Bowles, setting down the suitcase with quite a dramatic start. "Why—why, isn't this remarkable, Miss Lee? To think that we should take the same train—on the same day— and then have the very same car! But, don't you know, you never finished that last story you were telling me—about the cowboy who went to the picnic—and now I shall demand the end of it. Really, Miss Leo, I enjoyed your tales immensely —but don't lctjme keep you waiting!" He hurried on, still commenting upon the remarkable coincidence; and .as a memory of the reception came back to her and she recalled the avid way in which this same young man had hung upon her words, a sudden doubt, a shrewd questioning, camo over the mind of Dixie Lee. Back in Arizona, now, a man with any git-up-and-git to him mightbut, pshaw, this was not Arizona! And lie was not that kind of man ! No, indeed ! The idea of one of these New York Willies doing the sleuth, act and tagging her to the train!

At the same time Dixie Lee bad her misgivings about this correct young man, because sho knew his name was not Bowles. More than that, his language displeased her, reminding her as it did of her long winter's penanco among the culturines. Three days more of highbrow conversation would just about finish her —she must be stern, very stern, if she would avert the impending disaster! So sho stabbed her neatly-trimmed little »om»r«'o with a hatpin and rafted Soj Mr. Bowies.

" Lovely weather we've been having, isn't it? ' he purled as ho made bold to sit down beside her.

"Yes, indeed," she answered, showing her white teeth in a simpering smile. " Simply heavenly. Don't you know, it reminds mo of those lines in Wordsworth —you remember—l think it was in his 'Idiot Boy.* Oh, how do they go?" She knitted her brows and Mr. Bowles regarded her thoughtfully. Perhaps it was in his 'Lines Written in Early Spring,'" ho suggested guardedly. " No," she insisted. "It was in ' The Idiot Boy'— that or in ' Lines Written to the same Dog-' I forget which. Anyway, it told all about the rain, you know, and the cloudsand all that. Don't you remejftber ? I thought you were full of Wordsworth." This last was thrown out for a bait, to get Mr. Bowles to extend himself, but it failed of its effect. A sombre israile took the placo of the expected frenzy and he muttered half to himself as he gazed put of the .window*

"What's that you say?" she questioned sharply. 0 '-■'- -' ■ '• *• •

"Oh, pardon me," he v;exclaimed,'recovering himself with a sudden, access of manner ; " X was talking to myself, don't you know? i But; really, I am pretty full of Wordsworth; so, if you don't mind, we'll talk about something else. v My aunt, you know, is f« a great devotee of all the nature poots, and I attend the meetings to pleaso her. It's, an awful boro sometimes, too, I assuro youj that's why your face was so welcome .to mo when I chanced to see you at the club- ' rooms. That lecturer' was such a conceited ass and'' those women were so besotted in their admiration of him that I looked around to see if there wtis a single sane and , reasonable , creature ■in the room—and there* you were, as stern and uncompromising as an" angel and—' oh, well, I formed a different conception of angels, right there. Yoa were so delightfully humorous, too, when Mrs. Mel vine introduced us—and, well, really, Miss Lee, you are partly responsible for my leaving New York. I never fully realised before what our western country must be like I never dreamed that there was a, place to flee to when the conventions of society grew irksome; but when you told me of your ranch,, and the cowboys, and all the wonderful happenings of tnat wild and care-free life-1— made up my mind to chuck the whole thing, don't you know, and strike out for myself-" • , ,

"Oho!" breathed Dixie Lee, squinting down her eyes and regarding bin. with a shrewd smile. "So you're running aw ay to Jbe a cowboy, eh? Going West to fight the Indians! Well, well But let me ask you one question, Mr. Bowles— if that's your name— trust you don't plan to begin your depredations in my part of tho country; because if you do—"

"Oh, ray dear Miss Lee," protested Mr. Bowles. " you have quite a mistaken idea, I assure you. Really, now, I hope you give me credit for more discretion than that. The fact -is, I have an old college friend on a ranch in California and, though I have not taken my aunt

entirely into confidence, I am really going out to make him a visit. It's all very well, you know, to rajid about sunsets in Wordsworth, but why not go out into the Far West and see the sun set indeed? That's what I Bay, but of course .1 would not offend her—alio simply thinks my health is failing and I need a western trip."

"Oh!" said Dixie Lee quietly. "So you've got an aunt, too, eh? What did you say her name was?" "Why, Mrs.--cr—Bowles!" "But why Mrs. Ev-Bowlcs?" queried Dixie May, relentlessly. " Why not Mis. Bowles straight? Now, you know, Mr. Bowles, it looks very much to me as if-"

" Her former name was Earl," inter posed Mr. Bowles suavely, and carefully leaving out tho "r." "My father's brother married a very dear friend of ours, a Mrs. Earl, and I sometimes call her so inadvertently, you know. 1 am an orphan now, and Mrs. Earl— Bowles—has taken me as a son. But you can readily ■understand uoyj & yovmg maw ol my age and disposition might not idways fall in with a somewhat elderly lady's views of life, especially in regard to cultural influences, and while I love her very dearly, and wouldn't hurt hor feelings for the world—"

"Yes, it's too bad about you!" observed Dixie Lee heartlessly; and then for quite a while sho looked out <if the car window as drab and dirty tenements slipped by and the train plunged into a tunnel.

" How far West are you going?" she inquired, waking up suddenly from her reverie. " Lemme see your ticket. Um-m! Well, we travel together as far as Albuquerque, New Mox., and there we say ' Good-bye.' I reckon California is about your size, Mr. Bowles; but don't you make any mistake and drop off in Arizona, or the cowboys will scare you up some. As for the rest of it, I don't care what name a man goes by, but I see you are down on your ticket hero as 'Houghton.'"

There was a challenge In her, voice; but Bowles was not dismayed*

"Now, really, Miss Lee," he began, ,*' why. quibble ; over the accident of \ a name? , Whether my name is .-Houghton, as I have signed, it here, or Bowles, has nothing to do with tho case. The fact is, I.' am suffering from an excess of aunts and' Wordsworth, much in the same 'way that you are, perhaps, and my heart has gone out to the West. Be a good fellow now, and help me out. Tell me about the country now and what I would better do; and, though it is a small return, you shall lwc one more devoted slave to worship at' your feet." ■ ' - A fleeting 6milo 'came into -his eyes as ho delivered himself of this last, and the queen of the Bat Wing Ranch paused suddenly to make sure there was no mistake. It would be hard, indeed, to find oneself laughed at by a suede New Yorker, and yet—well, he seemed to mean it, _too. "Rise up, then, Sir, Knight," she said, tapping him lightly with her sombrero; " and bo mighty particular to change cars when wo got to Albuquerque—otherwise the Chula Vista cowboys will make you hard to catch."

CHAPTER 11. THE FAR WEST. Three days is a short time in which to post a man on the Far West, but if you don't care what you say, and say it quick, you can give him a pretty good fill. Dixie Lee was 1 almost sorry'when the Limited rolled into Albuquerque, and Mr. Bowles was "fairly 'tearful in his adieus.

"Really, Miss Lee," ho said, holding her hand with just a shade more than the proper pressure, " really, I .shall never forget your kindness. The days have passed like a dream, and I feel myself quite a Westerner already. Yes, I am suro I shall love the West— is c© big, and free— what I like about it most is its splendid spirit of equality, its camaraderie./' I can feel it everywhere—it is in the air—these great, rough-looking men, greeting perfect strangers in tho smokers and on the platforms, and saying: 'Say, pardner, gimme a, match'—or a smoke, even 1 Oh, it is glorious 1 hut, really,

I must bo going So sorry our ways should part here. W°"> good-bye, Miss Lee—so glad wo should happen to meet. I hope you have a pleasant journey. Thank you! Oh, don't mention it—goodbye!" Ho raised his Dutch, comedian hat once more, a trace of romantic mistiness camo into his violet eyes, and then ho hurried back to his luxurious quarters on the Limited, while Dixie Leo sat and waited for the south-bound to take her to Deming. It was not a cheerful journey to contemplate, for New Mexico and Arizona way trains aro slow and dusty, and given to making poor connections and unseemly arrivals; hut by ten o'clock that evening Dixio Leo hoped to get as far as Deming, and then, if tho Overland happened to bo late, too, she could catch a westbound passenger and get to Chnla Vista heforo tho hotel closed. The Western Limited pulled out as her train still stood on its track, and she glanced at tho rear end of the observation-car for a fluttering handkerchief; but Mr. Bowles' emotions seemed to have* overcome him, for he was lacking in this hist attention. She waited for him with a hmd grin; then y when she was sure ho was really gone, Dixie May threw herself back in her seat and laughed until sho was silly.

She was in good humour all tho way to Doming, where tho westbound was reported two hours late; but as she was pacing up and down the platform at midnight her. face came suddenly straight. The, westbound was standing on the track waiting for orders and sho was walking along up toward the front when suddenly, through tlw smoking-car window, she beheld Sir Knight Bowles in eager converse with a grizzled old-timer! If it wasn't he, it was his twin brother—for there was tho hard-boiled hat as large as life. 'The window was a little murky and the air was thick inside, but Dixie May was sure sho had seen him—or was she having dreams ?

It seemed, somehow, as if she couldn't get that droll creature out of her mind. All tho way down from Albuquerquo she had been hearing, his talk in her ears and laughing at the way ho broadened his "a's" and purred and purled over his "r's". At times she had burst into inextinguishable laughter, insomuch that

several of the -male : passengers "regarded her with curious glances and' the train boy had tried to get gay, with her; but Dixie Lee .knew how to settle that kind Of folks. A peanut butcher was a peanut butcher to her, and nothing more; and if he neglected to hawk his wares in order to drape himself over the back'of her seat she Could put him in his place. It was Mr. Bowles that sho was thinking of—Mr. Bowles—and when she remembered the innocent look on his faco' as she filled him up with Indian atrocities and cattle-war stories she just simply had to laugh. But now. to find him following her—to discover him on the same train when ho was ticketed west out of Albuquerque—well, that was a different thing entirely! Dixie Leo retired to the sleeper to snatch a few hours of reposo and when tho dead-eyed porter set her down at Chula Vista she had entirely forgotten her knight. It was five o'clock on a cold March morning, and the wind came in from across the prairie with a sweep that chilled the blood. It was so cold that the ticket-agent had ducked back into his inner sanctum beforo she could so much as hail himand it was-a quarter of a milo up to the hotel! Dixie May took a long look about her; sho tried tho wait-ing-room door; then, with a deep-drawn shudder, she turned to go it alone'* when 10, a tall and masculine figure stepped out from behind tho warehouse and aht» recognised Mr. Bowles!

"Pardon mo, madam," ho said, doffing his comedian hat and addressing her as if sho were a stranger; "I see you ar t all alone— Ibe of any service to you ?" It was dark, all right, but tho idea of Mr. Bowles expecting to conceal his identity by mere starlight! She knew him, of course, tho minute she saw his hat, but—well, what was tho uso of getting haughty about it? Why not flo a little play-acting, too, until they got up to tho hotel?

" Why—why, yes," sho faltered, simulating an 'appealing weakness. It's very kind of you, I'm euro. I— expected my father to meet mo here, but—"

" Ah, yes—very unrjrTunalo," put in Bowles promptly. "Is there any hotel

near? Just lead tho way then, and I'll follow with your luggage. You might put on my overcoat if you'ro suffering from the cold. Bather not? Very well, tlienj lot's hurry along to the hotel."

They hurried, Bowles struggling with tho bliggago, of which ho had three pieces, and -Dixie Loo preparing her valedictory. Yes, much as she regretted' it, she would have to bid him farewell—otherwise he might come tagging after her out to the ranch and set the whole country to talking. It was all very well back in New York, or on the train, but in .the Tortugas—never! She would have to make ho" final effort cutting, but sho hoped he would not take it too hard—and meanwhile, as a penance for his presumption, he could break his back packing her suitcases up from tho station. \,

"All, just a moment!" entreated Mr. Bowles, sotting down the suitcases ana working his tortured hands. "Oh, no, not heavy at perhaps I can fasten them together with this strap."

Ho unbuckled the, shoulder-strap from his alligator-skin bag, and looped it through the handles of the suitcases.

" Hah,'. Just, (ha thing '." ho axchumad, slinging the two suitcases over lus shoulder; and then, with a long, free stride, he swung along beside her, as tireless as an Indian— as silent.

A sudden sense of respect, almost o! awe, came over Dixie Lee as she contemplated his masterful repose, but the hotel door was near, and she nerved herself for the assault. "You think you're smart, don't you?" sho snapped. "Following along after me this way! Just because i happened to be a little friendly—"

"Now, really, Miss Lee," broke in Bowles with admirable calm, " I hope you will not be too hard on me. 1 assure you, if it had not been for your distressing ' situation—which' no gentleman could overlook— would never have been awaro of my presence. But you have known me long enough, I am sure, to know that I would never presume to force my society upon any lady, more particularly upon one for whom—" " Well, what aro you tagging 'along for then?" demanded Dixie Loo, wrathfully. "When I said good-bye to you up at Albuquerque you, had a through ticket to

California^:. Now here you are down at Chula Vista. What are you .up to—that's what I want to know!" * * ; f

•"'"To':: be sure!" r , agreed , Mr. - N Bowles.' "Under the circumstances you have a'perfect right to an explanation. I may as well confess then, , Miss Lee, that your stories 'told on the train have fired me with a desire to see the real West, not the-pseudo ■or imitation article, but the real thing with the hair on, as you so aptly phrased it. But, here was my difficulty—l had no one to direct me. The hotelkeepers, the ticket-agents, even my Eastern friends in the West, might send me_ astray and Ibe none the wiser. 1 admit it was hardly a. gentlemanly thing to, do, but rather than lose my last chance to see the great West of which you spoke I followed after you, but without the slightest intention, I assure you, of making myself obnoxious. Is this the hotel ahead?" ...

Yes," said Dixie Lee, "it is.. And while I wish to congratulate you upon your explanation I want to inform you, Mr. Bowles, that right here is where we part. You're looking for the Wild West, and here she is with her hair down. -If you are hunting experiences these Uhula Vista boys will certainly accommodate you, but from this time on, Mr. Bowles, we are strangers. We don't know each other, do you understand? If what you say is true, you followed me simply to< find the Far West. This is it. ' We're quits, then; and I shall have to ask you, as a gentleman, not to annoy me further. You may be all right— ',ri New York —but out hero it's different and I don't want to have the folks joshing me about you. So I'll bid you farewell, Mr. Bowles, and thank you kindly for carrying up my baggage—but don't you dare come around the Bat Wjng ranche, or I'll tell the boys to kill you!"

Sho grabbed up her baggage as she spoke and hurried ahead, and when Mr. Bowles stepped into the' hotel some minutes later she was as distant as an ivory goddess, or a bronze goddess, to be exact, for the sun and wind had caressed the fair cheeks of Dixie Lee until they* were as brown and ruddy as a berry, and oven the steam heat of a "New York apart-

ment could only reduce their colouring. Sho seemed a goddess indeed to Bowles as sho lingered beside the stove, her smooth, capable hands bared to the glow of tho flames and her body buoyant with the graco of youth " '

The bottle-nosed proprietor came shuffling in from tho bar and silently handed him a pen; then, without looking at the name that was signed, he wrote a number after it and handed his guest a key.

"Baggago?" l he inquired, as Mr. Bowles stood helplessly to one side.

Ob, yes!" said Bowles, recovering himself with an effort. "Here are tho checks. My trunks will be in on a later train. Have them sent up, won't you?" "Sample-room?" queried the hotelkeeper, brusquely.

"Beg pardon?"

"D/ye want 'em put in the sampleroom?" snarled the proprietor, outraged at having to handy words with the despised Easterner. \

"The sample-room?" repeated Mr. Bowles, now thoroughly mystified. "Why, no— should IV*

At ,Jhis final evidehco of imbecility a mighty spasm of rage came over the proprietor, and as he struggled to regain his calm Dixie Lee suddenly clapped a handkerchief to her mouth and made a dash for the dining-room.

"All right!" he grumbled. "Guess you know your own business. Thought you was a travellin' man."

He stepped back through the door marked "Bar," and Mr. Bowles was left to gasp alone. A travelling man! They took him for a travelling man I It was quite a shock, and Bowles was still brooding over it by the stove when the door from the bar was thrust open and a tall cowboy, booted- and spurred and shapped and pistolled, came stalking,, into the room. His broad sombrero was shoved far back on his head, showing A tremendous stand of tumbled hair, and his keen hazel eyes roved about with the steady; mtentness of a hunting animal's; but only for the fraction of a second did he condescend to notice Bowles. - ...

(To be continued on Saturday, nexti