The Patrol of the Sun Dance Trail [128]
of great sunlit spaces and fresh blowing winds, but this evening its very beauty appeared intolerable to him. Ever since the death of Raven upon that tragic night of the cattle-raid he had been fighting his bitter loss and disappointment; with indifferent success, it is true, but still not without the hope of attaining final peace of soul. This evening he knew that, while he lived in this land, peace would never come to him, for his heart-wound never would heal.
"I will go," he said again. "I will say good-by to-night. By Jove! I feel better already. Come along, Pepper! Wake up!"
Pepper woke up to some purpose and at a smart canter carried the doctor on his way round the bluff toward a gate that opened into a lane leading to the stables. At the gate a figure started up suddenly from the shadow of a poplar. With a snort and in the midst of his stride Pepper swung on his heels with such amazing abruptness that his rider was flung from his saddle, fortunately upon his feet.
"Confound you for a dumb-headed fool! What are you up to anyway?" he cried in a sudden rage, recognizing Smith, who stood beside the trail in an abjectly apologetic attitude.
"Yes," cried another voice from the shadow. "Is he not a fool? You would think he ought to know Mr. Smith by this time. But Pepper is really very stupid."
The doctor stood speechless, surprise, disgust and rage struggling for supremacy among his emotions. He stood gazing stupidly from one to the other, utterly at a loss for words.
"You see, Mr. Smith," began Moira somewhat lamely, "had something to say to me and so we--and so we came--along to the gate."
"So I see," replied the doctor gruffly.
"You see Mr. Smith has come to mean a great deal to me--to us--"
"So I should imagine," replied the doctor.
"His self-sacrifice and courage during those terrible days we can never forget."
"Exactly so--quite right," replied the doctor, standing stiffly beside his horse's head.
"You do not know people all at once," continued Moira.
"Ah! Not all at once," the doctor replied.
"But in times of danger and trouble one gets to know them quickly."
"Sure thing," said the doctor.
"And it takes times of danger to bring out the hero in a man."
"I should imagine so," replied the doctor with his eyes on Smith's childlike and beaming face.
"And you see Mr. Smith was really our whole stay, and--and--we came to rely upon him and we found him so steadfast." In the face of the doctor's stolid brevity Moira was finding conversation difficult.
"Steadfast!" repeated the doctor. "Exactly so," his eyes upon Smith's wobbly legs. "Mr. Smith I consider a very fortunate man. I congratulate him on--"
"Oh, have you heard? I did not know that--"
"Yes. I mean--not exactly."
"Who told you? Is it not splendid?" enthusiasm shining in her eyes.
"Splendid! Yes--that is, for him," replied the doctor without emotion. "I congratulate--"
"But how did you hear?"
"I did not exactly hear, but I had no difficulty in--ah--making the discovery."
"Discovery?"
"Yes, discovery. It was fairly plain; I might say it was the feature of the view; in fact it stuck right out of the landscape-- hit you in the eye, so to speak."
"The landscape? What can you mean?"
"Mean? Simply that I am at a loss as to whether Mr. Smith is to be congratulated more upon his exquisite taste or upon his extraordinary good fortune."
"Good fortune, yes, is it not splendid?"
"Splendid is the exact word," said the doctor stiffly.
"And I am so glad."
"Yes, you certainly look happy," replied the doctor with a grim attempt at a smile, and feeling as if more enthusiasm were demanded from him. "Let me offer you my congratulations and say good-by. I am leaving."
"You will be back soon, though?"
"Hardly. I am leaving the West."
"Leaving the West? Why? What? When?"
"To-night. Now. I must say good-by."
"To-night? Now?" Her voice sank almost to a whisper. Her lips were white and quivering. "But do they know at the house? Surely this is
"I will go," he said again. "I will say good-by to-night. By Jove! I feel better already. Come along, Pepper! Wake up!"
Pepper woke up to some purpose and at a smart canter carried the doctor on his way round the bluff toward a gate that opened into a lane leading to the stables. At the gate a figure started up suddenly from the shadow of a poplar. With a snort and in the midst of his stride Pepper swung on his heels with such amazing abruptness that his rider was flung from his saddle, fortunately upon his feet.
"Confound you for a dumb-headed fool! What are you up to anyway?" he cried in a sudden rage, recognizing Smith, who stood beside the trail in an abjectly apologetic attitude.
"Yes," cried another voice from the shadow. "Is he not a fool? You would think he ought to know Mr. Smith by this time. But Pepper is really very stupid."
The doctor stood speechless, surprise, disgust and rage struggling for supremacy among his emotions. He stood gazing stupidly from one to the other, utterly at a loss for words.
"You see, Mr. Smith," began Moira somewhat lamely, "had something to say to me and so we--and so we came--along to the gate."
"So I see," replied the doctor gruffly.
"You see Mr. Smith has come to mean a great deal to me--to us--"
"So I should imagine," replied the doctor.
"His self-sacrifice and courage during those terrible days we can never forget."
"Exactly so--quite right," replied the doctor, standing stiffly beside his horse's head.
"You do not know people all at once," continued Moira.
"Ah! Not all at once," the doctor replied.
"But in times of danger and trouble one gets to know them quickly."
"Sure thing," said the doctor.
"And it takes times of danger to bring out the hero in a man."
"I should imagine so," replied the doctor with his eyes on Smith's childlike and beaming face.
"And you see Mr. Smith was really our whole stay, and--and--we came to rely upon him and we found him so steadfast." In the face of the doctor's stolid brevity Moira was finding conversation difficult.
"Steadfast!" repeated the doctor. "Exactly so," his eyes upon Smith's wobbly legs. "Mr. Smith I consider a very fortunate man. I congratulate him on--"
"Oh, have you heard? I did not know that--"
"Yes. I mean--not exactly."
"Who told you? Is it not splendid?" enthusiasm shining in her eyes.
"Splendid! Yes--that is, for him," replied the doctor without emotion. "I congratulate--"
"But how did you hear?"
"I did not exactly hear, but I had no difficulty in--ah--making the discovery."
"Discovery?"
"Yes, discovery. It was fairly plain; I might say it was the feature of the view; in fact it stuck right out of the landscape-- hit you in the eye, so to speak."
"The landscape? What can you mean?"
"Mean? Simply that I am at a loss as to whether Mr. Smith is to be congratulated more upon his exquisite taste or upon his extraordinary good fortune."
"Good fortune, yes, is it not splendid?"
"Splendid is the exact word," said the doctor stiffly.
"And I am so glad."
"Yes, you certainly look happy," replied the doctor with a grim attempt at a smile, and feeling as if more enthusiasm were demanded from him. "Let me offer you my congratulations and say good-by. I am leaving."
"You will be back soon, though?"
"Hardly. I am leaving the West."
"Leaving the West? Why? What? When?"
"To-night. Now. I must say good-by."
"To-night? Now?" Her voice sank almost to a whisper. Her lips were white and quivering. "But do they know at the house? Surely this is