I went from porch to parlor and thence to patio, watching and amused.
The lights and the decorations of flowers, the bright dresses and the flashy scarfs of the cowboys furnished a gay enough scene to a man of lonesome and stern life like mine. During the dance there was a steady, continuous shuffling tramp of boots, and during the interval following a steady, low hum of merry talk and laughter.
My wandering from place to place, apart from my usual careful observation, was an un.o.btrusive but, to me, a sneaking pursuit of Sally Langdon.
She had on a white dress I had never seen with a low neck and short sleeves, and she looked so sweet, so dainty, so altogether desirable, that I groaned a hundred times in my jealousy. Because, manifestly, Sally did not intend to run any risk of my not seeing her in her glory, no matter where my eyes looked.
A couple of times in promenading I pa.s.sed her on the arm of some proud cowboy or gallant young buck from town, and on these occasions she favored her escort with a languishing glance that probably did as much damage to him as to me.
Presently she caught me red-handed in my careless, sauntering pursuit of her, and then, whether by intent or from indifference, she apparently deigned me no more notice. But, quick to feel a difference in her, I marked that from that moment her gaiety gradually merged into coquettishness, and soon into flirtation.
Then, just to see how far she would go, perhaps desperately hoping she would make me hate her, I followed her shamelessly from patio to parlor, porch to court, even to the waltz.
To her credit, she always weakened when some young fellow got her in a corner and tried to push the flirting to extremes. Young Waters was the only one lucky enough to kiss her, and there was more of strength in his conquest of her than any decent fellow could be proud of.
When George Wright sought Sally out there was added to my jealousy a real anxiety. I had brushed against Wright more than once that evening.
He was not drunk, yet under the influence of liquor.
Sally, however, evidently did not discover that, because, knowing her abhorrence of drink, I believed she would not have walked out with him had she known. Anyway, I followed them, close in the shadow.
Wright was unusually gay. I saw him put his arm around her without remonstrance. When the music recommenced they went back to the house.
Wright danced with Sally, not ungracefully for a man who rode a horse as much as he. After the dance he waved aside Sally's many partners, not so gaily as would have been consistent with good feeling, and led her away.
I followed. They ended up that walk at the extreme corner of the patio, where, under gaily colored lights, a little arbor had been made among the flowers and vines.
Sally seemed to have lost something of her vivacity. They had not been out of my sight for a moment before Sally cried out. It was a cry of impatience or remonstrance, rather than alarm, but I decided that it would serve me an excuse.
I dashed back, leaped to the door of the arbor, my hand on my gun.
Wright was holding Sally. When he heard me he let her go. Then she uttered a cry that was one of alarm. Her face blanched; her eyes grew strained. One hand went to her breast. She thought I meant to kill Wright.
"Excuse me," I burst out frankly, turning to Wright. I never saw a hyena, but he looked like one. "I heard a squeal. Thought a girl was hurt, or something. Miss Sampson gave me orders to watch out for accidents, fire, anything. So excuse me, Wright."
As I stepped back, to my amazement, Sally, excusing herself to the scowling Wright, hurriedly joined me.
"Oh, it's our dance, Russ!"
She took my arm and we walked through the patio.
"I'm afraid of him, Russ," she whispered. "You frightened me worse though. You didn't mean to--to--"
"I made a bluff. Saw he'd been drinking, so I kept near you."
"You return good for evil," she replied, squeezing my arm. "Russ, let me tell you--whenever anything frightens me since we got here I think of you. If you're only near I feel safe."
We paused at the door leading into the big parlor. Couples were pa.s.sing.
Here I could scarcely distinguish the last words she said. She stood before me, eyes downcast, face flushed, as sweet and pretty a la.s.s as man could want to see, and with her hand she twisted round and round a silver b.u.t.ton on my buckskin vest.
"Dance with me, the rest of this," she said. "George shooed away my partner. I'm glad for the chance. Dance with me, Russ--not gallantly or dutifully because I ask you, but because you _want_ to. Else not at all."
There was a limit to my endurance. There would hardly be another evening like this, at least, for me, in that country. I capitulated with what grace I could express.
We went into the parlor, and as we joined the dancers, despite all that confusion I heard her whisper: "I've been a little beast to you."
That dance seemingly lasted only a moment--a moment while she was all airy grace, radiant, and alluring, floating close to me, with our hands clasped. Then it appeared the music had ceased, the couples were finding seats, and Sally and I were accosted by Miss Sampson.
She said we made a graceful couple in the dance. And Sally said she did not have to reach up a mile to me--I was not so awfully tall.
And I, tongue-tied for once, said nothing.
Wright had returned and was now standing, cigarette between lips, in the door leading out to the patio. At the same moment that I heard a heavy tramp of boots, from the porch side I saw Wright's face change remarkably, expressing amaze, consternation, then fear.
I wheeled in time to see Vaughn Steele bend his head to enter the door on that side. The dancers fell back.
At sight of him I was again the Ranger, his ally. Steele was pale, yet heated. He panted. He wore no hat. He had his coat turned up and with left hand he held the lapels together.
In a quick ensuing silence Miss Sampson rose, white as her dress. The young women present stared in astonishment and their partners showed excitement.
"Miss Sampson, I came to search your house!" panted Steele, courteously, yet with authority.
I disengaged myself from Sally, who was clinging to my hands, and I stepped forward out of the corner. Steele had been running. Why did he hold his coat like that? I sensed action, and the cold thrill animated me.
Miss Sampson's astonishment was succeeded by anger difficult to control.
"In the absence of my father I am mistress here. I will not permit you to search my house."
"Then I regret to say I must do so without your permission," he said sternly.
"Do not dare!" she flashed. She stood erect, her bosom swelling, her eyes magnificently black with pa.s.sion. "How dare you intrude here? Have you not insulted us enough? To search my house to-night--to break up my party--oh, it's worse than outrage! Why on earth do you want to search here? Ah, for the same reason you dragged a poor innocent man into my father's court! Sir, I forbid you to take another step into this house."
Steele's face was bloodless now, and I wondered if it had to do with her scathing scorn or something that he hid with his hand closing his coat that way.
"Miss Sampson, I don't need warrants to search houses," he said. "But this time I'll respect your command. It would be too bad to spoil your party. Let me add, perhaps you do me a little wrong. G.o.d knows I hope so. I was shot by a rustler. He fled. I chased him here. He has taken refuge here--in your father's house. He's hidden somewhere."
Steele spread wide his coat lapels. He wore a light shirt, the color of which in places was white. The rest was all a b.l.o.o.d.y ma.s.s from which dark red drops fell to the floor.
"Oh!" cried Miss Sampson.
Scorn and pa.s.sion vanished in the horror, the pity, of a woman who imagined she saw a man mortally wounded. It was a hard sight for a woman's eyes, that crimson, heaving breast.
"Surely I didn't see that," went on Steele, closing his coat. "You used unforgettable words, Miss Sampson. From you they hurt. For I stand alone. My fight is to make Linrock safer, cleaner, a better home for women and children. Some day you will remember what you said."
How splendid he looked, how strong against odds. How simple a dignity fitted his words. Why, a woman far blinder than Diane Sampson could have seen that here stood a man.
Steele bowed, turned on his heel, and strode out to vanish in the dark.
Then while she stood bewildered, still shocked, I elected to do some rapid thinking.
How seriously was Steele injured? An instant's thought was enough to tell me that if he had sustained any more than a flesh wound he would not have chased his a.s.sailant, not with so much at stake in the future.
Then I concerned myself with a cold grip of desire to get near the rustler who had wounded Steele. As I started forward, however, Miss Sampson defeated me. Sally once more clung to my hands, and directly we were surrounded by an excited circle.