That Girl Montana
seems as if every one thinks I need looking after so much more than they
used to. Maybe because I am not strong yet--maybe so; I don't know." Then
she smiled and looked at him curiously.
"But I made a mistake when I said 'every one,' didn't I? For Dan never
comes near me any more."
Then the strange canoes came in sight and very close to them, as they
turned a bend in the creek. There were three large boats--one carrying
freight, one filled with new men for the works, and in the other--the
foremost one--was Mr. Haydon, and a tall, thin, middle-aged stranger.
"Uncle Seldon!" exclaimed Lyster, with animation, and held the canoe still
in the water, that the other might come close, and in a whisper he said:
"The one to the right is Mr. Haydon."
He glanced at her and saw she was making a painful effort at
self-control.
"Don't worry," he whispered. "We will just speak, and drift on past
them."
But when they called greeting to each other, and the Indian boatman was
told to send their craft close to the little camp canoe, she raised her
head and looked very levelly across the stranger, who had hair so like her
own, and spoke to the Indian who paddled their boat as though he were the
only one there to notice.
"Plucky!" decided Mr. Haydon, "and stubborn;" but he kept those thoughts
to himself, and said aloud: "My dear young lady, I am indeed pleased to
see you so far recovered since my last visit. I presume you know who I
am," and he looked at her in a smiling, confidential way.
"Yes, I know who you are. Your name is Haydon, and--there is a piece of
your letter."
She picked up a fragment of paper that had fallen at her feet, and flung
it out from her on the water. Mr. Haydon affected not to see the pettish
act, but turned to his companion.
"Will you allow me, Miss Rivers, to introduce another member of our firm?
This is Mr. Seldon. Seldon, this is the young girl I told you of."
"I knew it before you spoke," said the other man, who looked at her with a
great deal of interest, and a great deal of kindness. "My child, I was
your mother's friend long ago. Won't you let me be yours?"
She reached out her hand to him, and the quick tears came to her eyes. She
trusted without question the earnest gray eyes of the speaker, and turned
from her own uncle to the uncle of Max.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE MAN IN AKKOMI'S CLOAK.
"My dear fellow, there is, of course, no way of thanking you sufficiently
for your care of her; but I can only say I am mighty glad to know a man
like you."
It was Mr. Seldon who said so, and Dan Overton looked embarrassed and
deprecating under the praise he had to accept.
"It is all right for you to make a fuss over it, Seldon," he returned;
"but you know, as well as you know dinner time, that you would have done
no less if you had found a young girl anywhere without a home--and
especially if you found her in an Indian camp."
"Did she give you any information as to how she came to be there?"
Overton looked at him good-naturedly, but shook his head.
"I can't give you any information about that," he answered. "If you want
to know anything of her previous to meeting her here, she will have to
tell you."
"But she won't. I can't understand it; for I can see no need of mystery. I
knew her mother when she was a girl like 'Tana, and--"
"You did?"
"Yes, I did. So now, perhaps, you will understand why I take such an
interest in her--why Mr. Haydon takes an interest in her. Simply because
she is his niece."
"Oh, she is--is she? And he came here, found her dying, or next door to
it, and never claimed her."
"No; that is a little way of his," acknowledged his partner. "If she had
really died, he never would have said a word about it, for it would have
caused him a lot of troublesome explanation at home. But I guess he knew I
would be likely to come across her. She is the very image of what her
mother was. He told me the whole story of how he found her here, and all.
And now he wants to do the proper thing and take her home with him."
"The devil he does!" growled Overton. "Well, why do you come to me about
it?"
"Your influence with her was one thing," answered Mr. Seldon, with a
dubious smile at the dark face before him. "This _protegee_ of yours has a
will of her own, it seems, and refuses utterly to acknowledge her
aristocratic relations, refuses to be a part of her uncle's household; and
we want your influence toward changing her mind."
"Well, you'll never get it," and the tone was decided as the words. "If
she says she is no relation to anybody, I'll back her up in it, and not
ask her her reasons, either. If she doesn't want to go with Mr. Haydon,
she is the only one I will allow to decide, unless he brings a legal order
from some court, and I might try to hinder him even then. She willingly
came under my guardianship, and when she leaves it, it must be
willingly."
"Oh, of course there will be no coercion about the matter," explained Mr.
Seldon, hastily. "But don't you, yourself, think it would be a decided
advantage for her to live for a while with her own relatives?"
"I am in no position to judge. I don't know her relatives. I don't know
why it is that she has not been taken care of by them long ago; and I am
not asking any questions. She knows, and that is enough; and I am sure her
reasons for not going would satisfy me."
"Well, you are a fine specimen to come to for influence," observed the
other. "She has a grudge against Haydon, that is the obstacle--a grudge,
because he quarreled with her mother long ago. I thought that as you have
done so much for her, your word might have weight in showing her the folly
of it."
"My word would have no more weight than yours," he answered, curtly. "All
I have done for her amounts to nothing; and I've an idea that if she
wanted me to know her family affairs, she would tell me."
"Which, interpreted, means that I had better be at other business than
gossiping," said Mr. Seldon, with much good humor. "Well, you are a fine
pair, and something alike, too--you goldfinders! She snubbed Max for
trying to persuade her, and you snub me. As a last resort, I think I shall
try to get that old Indian into our lobbying here. He is her next great
friend, I hear."
"I haven't seen him in camp to-day, for a wonder; but he is sure to be
around before night."
"But, you see, we are to go on up to the new works on the lake to-day, and
be back day after to-morrow. I wish you, too, could go up to-morrow, for I
would like your judgment about some changes we expect to make. Could you
leave here for twenty-four hours?"
"I'll try," promised Overton. "But the new men from the Ferry will be up
to-day or to-morrow, so I may not reach there until you are about ready to
start back."
"Come anyway, if you can, I don't seem to get much chance to talk to you
here in camp--maybe I could on the river. You may be in a more reasonable
mood about 'Tana by that time, and try to influence her to partake of
civilization."
"'Civilization!' Oh, yes, of course, you imagine it all lies east of the
Appalachian range," remarked Overton, slightingly. "I expect that from a
man of Haydon's stamp, but not from you."
Seldon only laughed.
"One would think you had been born and bred out here in the West," he
remarked, "while you are really only an importation. But what is that
racket about?"
For screeches were sounding from the cabin--cries, feminine and
frightened.
Overton and Seldon started for it, as did several of the workmen, but
their haste slackened as they saw 'Tana leaning against a doorway and
laughing, while the squaw stood near her, chuckling a little as a
substitute for merriment.
But there were two others within the cabin who were by no means merry--the
two cousins, who were standing huddled together on the couch, uttering
spasmodic screeches at every movement made by a little gray snake on the
floor.
It had crept in at a crevice, and did not know how to make its escape from
the noisy shelter it had found. Its fright was equal to that of the women,
for it appeared decidedly restless, and each uneasy movement of it was a
signal for fresh screams.
"Oh, Mr. Overton! I beg of you, kill the horrible reptile!" moaned Miss
Slocum, who at that moment was as indifferent to the proprieties as Mrs.
Huzzard, and was displaying considerable white hosiery and black gaiter
tops.
"Oh, lawsy! It is coming this way again. Ooh--ooh--h!" and Mrs. Huzzard
did a little dance from one foot to the other, in a very ecstasy of fear.
"Oh, Lavina, I'll never forgive myself for advising you to come out to
this Idaho country! Oh, Lord! won't somebody kill it?"
"Why, there is no need to fear that little thing," said Overton. "Really,
it is not a snake to bite--no more harm in it than in a mouse."
"A _mouse_!" they both shrieked. "Oh, please take it away."
Just then Akkomi came in through the other cabin, and, hearing the
shrieks, simply stooped and picked up the little stranger in his hand,
holding it that they might see how harmless it was.
But, instead of pacifying them, as he had kindly intended, they only
cowered against the wall, too horrified even to scream, while they gazed
at the old Indian, as at something just from the infernal regions.
"Lord, have mercy on our souls," muttered Lavina, in a sepulchral tone,
and with pallid, almost moveless, lips.
"Forever and ever, amen," added Lorena Jane, clutching her drapery a
little closer, and a little higher.
And not until Overton persuaded Akkomi to throw the frightened little
thing away did they consent to move from their pedestal. Even then it was
with fear and trembling, and many an awful glance toward the placid old
Indian, who smoked his pipe and never glanced toward them.
"Never again will I sleep in that room--not if I die for it!" announced
Mrs. Huzzard, and Miss Slocum was of the same mind.
"But the cabin is as safe as a tent," said 'Tana, persuasively, "and,
really, it was not a dangerous snake."
"Ooh--h! I beg that you will not mention it," shivered Miss Slocum. "For
my part, I don't expect to sleep anywhere after this terrible experience.
But I'll go wherever Lorena Jane goes, and do what I can to comfort and
protect her, while she rests."
Akkomi sat on Harris' doorstep, and smoked, while they argued on the
dangers around them, and were satisfied only when Overton put a tent at
their disposal. They proceeded to have hammocks swung in it on poles set
for the purpose, as they could feel safe on no bed resting on the ground.
"But, really, my conscience troubles me about leaving you here alone,
'Tana," said Mrs. Huzzard, and Overton also looked at her as if interested
in her comfort.
"Well, your conscience had better give itself a rest, if that is all it
has to disturb it," she answered. "I don't care the least bit about
staying alone--I rather like it; though, if I need any one, I'll have
Flap-Jacks stay."
So Overton left them to their arrangements, and said nothing to 'Tana; but
as Seldon and Haydon were about to embark, he spoke to the former.
"I may not be able to get up there after all, as I may feel it necessary
to be here at night, so don't wait for me."
"All right, Overton; but we'd like to have you."
After the others had left the cabin, Akkomi still remained, and the girl
watched him uneasily but did not speak. She talked to Harris, telling him
of the funny actions of the two frightened women, but all the time she
talked and tried to entertain the helpless man, it was with an evident
effort, for the dark old Indian's face at the door was constantly drawing
her attention.
When she finally entered her own room, he appeared at the entrance, and,
after a careful glance, to see that no one was near, he entered and
spoke: