That Girl Montana
only wanted to interest a seemingly influential stranger in a poor little
sick girl, and was not aware that he took an uncanny way of doing it. Had
we better go down and apologize to Haydon?"
"You can--directly. Who is he?"
"Well, he is the great moneyed mogul at the back of the company for whom
you have been doing some responsible work out here. I guess he is what you
call a silent partner; while Mr. Seldon--my relation, you know--has been
the active member in the mining deals. They have been friends this long
time. I have heard that Seldon was to have married Haydon's sister years
ago. Wedding day set and all, when the charms of a handsome employee of
theirs proved stronger than her promise, and she was found missing one
morning; also the handsome clerk, as well as a rather heavy sum of money,
to which the clerk had access. Of course, they never supposed that the
girl knew she was eloping with a thief. But her brother--this one
here--never forgave her. An appeal for help came to him once from
her--there was a child then--but it was ignored, and they never heard from
her again. Haydon was very fond of her, I believe--fond and proud, and
never got over the disgrace of it. Seldon never married, and he did what
he could to make her family forgive her, and look after her. But it was no
use, though their regard for him never lessened. So you see they are
partners from away back; and while Haydon is considerable of an expert in
mineralogy, this is the first visit he has ever made to their works up in
the Northwest. In fact, he had not intended coming so far north just now;
he was waiting for Seldon, who was down in Idaho. But when I got your
letter, and impressed on his mind the good business policy of having the
firm investigate at once, he fell in with the idea, and--here we are! Now,
that is about all I can tell you of Haydon, and how he came here."
"Less would have been plenty," said Overton, with a pretended sigh of
relief. "I didn't ask to be told his sister's love affairs or his
brother-in-law's failings. I was asking about the man himself."
"Well, I don't know what to tell you about him; there doesn't seem to be
anything to say. He is T. J. Haydon, a man who inherited both money and a
genius for speculation. Not a plunger, you know; but one of those pursy,
far-seeing fellows who always put their money on the right number and wait
patiently until it wins. I might tell you that he was sentimental once in
his life, and got married; and I might tell you of a pretty daughter he
has (and whom he used to be very much afraid I would make love to), but I
suppose you would not be interested in those exciting details, so I will
refrain. But as to the man himself and his trip here, I can only say, if
you have made a strike up here, he is the very best man I know to get
interested. Better even than Seldon, for Seldon always defers to Haydon,
while Haydon always acts on his own judgment. And say, old fellow, long as
we have talked, you have not yet told me one word of the new gold mine. I
suspected none of the Ferry folks knew of it, from the general opinion
that your trip here was an idiotic affair. Even the doctor said there was
no sane reason why you should have dragged Harris and 'Tana into the woods
as you did. I kept quiet, remembering the news in your letter, for I was
sure you did not decide on this expedition without a good reason. Then the
contents of that letter I read the night Harris collapsed--well, it stuck
in my mind, and I got to wondering if your bonanza was the one he had
found before. Oh, I've been doing some surmising about it. Am I right?"
"Pretty nearly," assented Overton. "Of course I knew some of the folks
would raise a howl because I let 'Tana come along; but it was necessary,
and I thought it would be best for her in the end, else you may be
sure--be very sure--I would not have had her come. She--was to have gone
back--at once--the very next day; but when the next day came, she was not
able. I have done what I could, but nothing seems to count. She does not
get well, and the gold doesn't play much of a figure in this camp just
now. One-third of the find is hers, and the same for Harris and me; but
I'd give my share cheerfully this minute if it would buy back health for
her and let me see her laughing and bright again."
Lyster reached out his hand and gave Overton's arm an affectionate
pressure.
"Don't I know it, Dan?" he asked kindly. "Can't I see that you have just
worked and worried yourself sick over her illness--blaming yourself,
perhaps--"
"Yes, that is it--blaming myself for--many things," he agreed, brokenly,
and then he checked himself as Lyster's curious glance was turned on him.
"So you see I am in no fit condition to talk values with this Mr. Haydon.
All my thoughts are somewhere else. Doctor says if she is not better
to-night she will not get well. That means she will not live. Tell your
friend that something worse than a gold crisis is here just now, and I
can't talk to him till it is over. Don't mind if I'm even a bit careless
with you, Max. Look after yourselves as well as you can. You are
welcome--you know that; but--what's the use of words? Perhaps 'Tana is
dying!"
And turning his back abruptly on his friend, he walked away, while Lyster
looked after him with some surprise.
"I seem to be dropped by everybody," he remarked, "first Haydon and now
Dan. But I don't believe there is danger of her dying. I _won't_ believe
it! Dan has worried himself sick and fearful during these terrible days,
but I'll do my share now and let him get some rest and sleep. 'Tana die! I
can't think it. But I care ten times more for Dan, just because of his
devotion to her. I wonder what he would think if he knew why I wanted her
to go to school, or how much she was in my mind every hour I was gone. I
felt like telling him just now, but better not--not yet. He thinks she is
only a little child yet. Dear old Dan!"
He entered the cabin and spoke to Harris, whom he had not seen before, and
who looked with pleasure at him, though, as ever, speechless and moveless,
but for that nod of his head and the bright, quick glance of his eyes.
From him he went again to 'Tana; but she lay still and pale, with closed
eyes and no longer muttering.
"There ain't a blessed thing you can do, Mr. Max," said Mrs. Huzzard, in a
wheezing whisper; "but if there is, you may be sure I'll let you know and
glad to do it. Lavina says she's going to help me to a rest; and you must
help Dan Overton, for slept he has not, and I know it, these eight nights
since I've been here. And if that ain't enough to kill a man!"
"Sure enough. But now that I am here, we will not have any night watches
on his part," decided Lyster. "Between Miss Slocum and myself I think we
can manage to do some very creditable nursing."
"I am willing to do my best," said Miss Lavina, with a shrinking glance
toward Flap-Jacks, who just slouched past with a bucket of water; "but I
must confess I do feel a timidity in the presence of these sly-looking
Indians. And if at night I can only be sure none of them are very close, I
may be able to watch this poor girl instead of watching for them with
their tomahawks."
"Never fear while I am detailed as guard," answered Lyster, reassuringly.
"They will reach you only over my dead body."
"Oh, but--" and the timid one arose as if for instant flight, but was held
by Mrs. Huzzard.
"Now, now!" she said reprovingly to the young fellow, "it's noways
good-natured of you to make us more scared of the dirty things than we are
naturally. But, Lavina, I'll go bail that he never yet has seen a dead
body of their killing since he came in the country. Lord knows, they don't
look as if they would kill a sheep, though they might steal them fast
enough. It ain't from Dan Overton that you ever learned to scare women,
Mr. Max; you wouldn't catch him at such tricks."
"Now I beg that whatever you do, Mrs. Huzzard, you will not compare me to
that personage," objected Lyster; "for I am convinced that anything human
would in your eyes suffer by such a comparison. Great is Dan in the camp
of the Kootenais!"
Mrs. Huzzard only laughed at his words, but Miss Lavina did not. She even
let her eyes wander again to Akkomi, in order to show her disapproval of
frivolous comment on Mr. Overton; a fact Lyster perceived and was
immensely amused by.
"She has set her covetous maidenly eyes on him, and if she doesn't marry
him before the year is over, he will have to be clever," he decided, as he
left them and went to look up Haydon. "Serves Dan right if she did, for he
never gives any other fellow half a chance with the old ladies. The rest
of us have to be content with the young ones."
CHAPTER XVI.
THROUGH THE NIGHT.
The soft dusk of the night had fallen over the northern lands, and the
pale stars had gleamed for hours on the reflecting waves of mountain
streams. It was late--near midnight, for the waning sickle of the moon was
slipping from its dark cover in the east and hanging like a jewel of gold
just above the black crown of the pines. Breaths from the heights sifted
down through the vast woods, carrying sometimes the dreary twitter of a
bird disturbed, or the mellow call of insects singing to each other of the
summer night. All sounds of the wilderness were as echoes of rest and
utter content.
And in the camp of the Twin Springs, shadows moved sometimes with a
silence that was scarce a discord in the wood songs of repose. A camp fire
glimmered faintly a little way up from the stream, and around it slept the
Indian boatman, the squaw, and old Akkomi, who, to the surprise of
Overton, had announced his intention of remaining until morning, that he
might know how the sickness went with the little "Girl-not-Afraid."
A dim light showed through the chinks of 'Tana's cabin, where Miss Lavina,
the doctor, and Lyster were on guard for the night. The doctor had grown
sleepy and moved into Harris' room, where he could be comfortable on
blankets. Lyster, watching the girl, was trying to make himself think that
their watching was all of no use; her sleep seemed so profound, so
healthfully natural, that he could not bring himself to think, as Dan did,
that the doctor's worst prophecy could come true--that out of that sleep
she might awake to consciousness, or that, on the other hand, she might
drift from sleep to lethargy and thus out of life.
Outside a man stood peering in through a chink from which he had
stealthily pulled the moss. He could not see the girl's face, but he could
see that of Lyster as he bent over, listening to her breathing, and he
watched it as if to glean some reflected knowledge from the young fellow's
earnest glances.
He had been there a long time. Once he slipped away for a short distance
and stood in the deeper shadows, but he had returned, and was listening to
the low, disjointed converse of the watchers within, when suddenly a tall
form loomed up beside him and a heavy hand was dropped on his shoulder.
"Not a word!" said a voice close to his ear. "If you make a noise, I'll
strangle you! Come along!"
To do otherwise was not easy, for the hand on his shoulder had a helpful
grip. He was almost lifted over the ground until they were several yards
from the cabin, and out in the clearer light of the stars.
"Well, I protest, Mr. Overton, that your manner is not very pleasant,"
remarked the captive, as he was released and allowed to speak. "Is--is
this sort of threats a habit of yours with strangers in your camp?"
Overton, seeing him now away from the thick shadows of the cabin, gave a
low exclamation of astonishment and irritation.
"_You_--Mr. Haydon! Well, you must confess that if my threats are not
pleasant, neither is it pleasant to find some one moving like a spy