Desert Gold Part 35

"He wouldn't, you can gamble on that, as Laddy says. ... Well, the first time I catch this locoed Romeo sneaking round here I'll--I'll--"

"Dad, you promised."

"Confound it, Nell, I promised not to pack a gun. That's all. I'll only shoo this fellow off the place, gently, mind you, gently. I'll leave the rest for d.i.c.k Gale!"

"Oh, Dad!" cried Nell; and she clung to him wistful, frightened, yet something more.

"Don't mistake me, Nell. You have your own way, generally. You pull the wool over mother's eyes, and you wind me round your little finger.

But you can't do either with d.i.c.k Gale. You're tender-hearted; you overlook the doings of this hound, Chase. But when d.i.c.k comes back, you just make up your mind to a little h.e.l.l in the Chase camp. Oh, he'll find it out. And I sure want to be round when d.i.c.k hands Mr. Radford the same as he handed Rojas!"

Belding kept a sharp lookout for young Chase, and then, a few days later, learned that both son and father had gone off upon one of their frequent trips to Casa Grandes, near where their mines were situated.

April grew apace, and soon gave way to May. One morning Belding was called from some garden work by the whirring of an automobile and a "Holloa!" He went forward to the front yard and there saw a car he thought resembled one he had seen in Casita. It contained a familiar-looking driver, but the three figures in gray coats and veils were strange to him. By the time he had gotten to the road he decided two were women and the other a man. At the moment their faces were emerging from dusty veils. Belding saw an elderly, sallow-faced, rather frail-appearing man who was an entire stranger to him; a handsome dark-eyed woman whose hair showed white through her veil; and a superbly built girl, whose face made Belding at once think of d.i.c.k Gale.

"Is this Mr. Tom Belding, inspector of immigration?" inquired the gentleman, courteously.

"I'm Belding, and I know who you are," replied Belding in hearty amaze, as he stretched forth his big hand. "You're d.i.c.k Gale's Dad--the Governor, d.i.c.k used to say. I'm sure glad to meet you."

"Thank you. Yes, I'm d.i.c.k's governor, and here, Mr. Belding--d.i.c.k's mother and his sister Elsie."

Beaming his pleasure, Belding shook hands with the ladies, who showed their agitation clearly.

"Mr. Belding, I've come west to look up my lost son," said Mr. Gale.

"His sister's letters were unanswered. We haven't heard from him in months. Is he still here with you?"

"Well, now, sure I'm awful sorry," began Belding, his slow mind at work. "d.i.c.k's away just now--been away for a considerable spell. I'm expecting him back any day.... Won't you come in? You're all dusty and hot and tired. Come in, and let mother and Nell make you comfortable.

Of course you'll stay. We've a big house. You must stay till d.i.c.k comes back. Maybe that 'll be-- Aw, I guess it won't be long.... Let me handle the baggage, Mr. Gale.... Come in. I sure am glad to meet you all."

Eager, excited, delighted, Belding went on talking as he ushered the Gales into the sitting-room, presenting them in his hearty way to the astounded Mrs. Belding and Nell. For the s.p.a.ce of a few moments his wife and daughter were bewildered. Belding did not recollect any other occasion when a few callers had thrown them off their balance. But of course this was different. He was a little fl.u.s.tered himself--a circ.u.mstance that dawned upon him with surprise. When the Gales had been shown to rooms, Mrs. Belding gained the poise momentarily lost; but Nell came rus.h.i.+ng back, wilder than a deer, in a state of excitement strange even for her.

"Oh! d.i.c.k's mother, his sister!" whispered Nell.

Belding observed the omission of the father in Nell's exclamation of mingled delight and alarm.

"His mother!" went on Nell. "Oh, I knew it! I always guessed it!

d.i.c.k's people are proud, rich; they're somebody. I thought I'd faint when she looked at me. She was just curious--curious, but so cold and proud. She was wondering about me. I'm wearing his ring. It was his mother's, he said. I won't--I can't take it off. And I'm scared....

But the sister--oh, she's lovely and sweet--proud, too. I felt warm all over when she looked at me. I--I wanted to kiss her. She looks like d.i.c.k when he first came to us. But he's changed. They'll hardly recognize him.... To think they've come! And I had to be looking a fright, when of all times on earth I'd want to look my best."

Nell, out of breath, ran away evidently to make herself presentable, according to her idea of the exigency of the case. Belding caught a glimpse of his wife's face as she went out, and it wore a sad, strange, anxious expression. Then Belding sat alone, pondering the contracting emotions of his wife and daughter. It was beyond his understanding.

Women were creatures of feeling. Belding saw reason to be delighted to entertain d.i.c.k's family; and for the time being no disturbing thought entered his mind.

Presently the Gales came back into the sitting-room, looking very different without the long gray cloaks and veils. Belding saw distinction and elegance. Mr. Gale seemed a grave, troubled, kindly person, ill in body and mind. Belding received the same impression of power that Ben Chase had given him, only here it was minus any harshness or hard quality. He gathered that Mr. Gale was a man of authority. Mrs. Gale rather frightened Belding, but he could not have told why. The girl was just like d.i.c.k as he used to be.

Their manner of speaking also reminded Belding of d.i.c.k. They talked of the ride from Ash Fork down to the border, of the ugly and torn-up Casita, of the heat and dust and cactus along the trail. Presently Nell came in, now cool and sweet in white, with a red rose at her breast. Belding had never been so proud of her. He saw that she meant to appear well in the eyes of d.i.c.k's people, and began to have a faint perception of what the ordeal was for her. Belding imagined the sooner the Gales were told that d.i.c.k was to marry Nell the better for all concerned, and especially for Nell. In the general conversation that ensued he sought for an opening in which to tell this important news, but he was kept so busy answering questions about his position on the border, the kind of place Forlorn River was, the reason for so many tents, etc., that he was unable to find opportunity.

"It's very interesting, very interesting," said Mr. Gale. "At another time I want to learn all you'll tell me about the West. It's new to me.

I'm surprised, amazed, sir, I may say.... But, Mr. Belding, what I want to know most is about my son. I'm broken in health. I've worried myself ill over him. I don't mind telling you, sir, that we quarreled.

I laughed at his threats. He went away. And I've come to see that I didn't know Richard. I was wrong to upbraid him. For a year we've known nothing of his doings, and now for almost six months we've not heard from him at all. Frankly, Mr. Belding, I weakened first, and I've come to hunt him up. My fear is that I didn't start soon enough.

The boy will have a great position some day--G.o.d knows, perhaps soon!

I should not have allowed him to run over this wild country for so long. But I hoped, though I hardly believed, that he might find himself. Now I'm afraid he's--"

Mr. Gale paused and the white hand he raised expressively shook a little.

Belding was not so thick-witted where men were concerned. He saw how the matter lay between d.i.c.k Gale and his father.

"Well, Mr. Gale, sure most young bucks from the East go to the bad out here," he said, bluntly.

"I've been told that," replied Mr. Gale; and a shade overspread his worn face.

"They blow their money, then go punching cows, take to whiskey."

"Yes," rejoined Mr. Gale, feebly nodding.

"Then they get to gambling, lose their jobs," went on Belding.

Mr. Gale lifted haggard eyes.

"Then it's b.u.mming around, regular tramps, and to the bad generally."

Belding spread wide his big arms, and when one of them dropped round Nell, who sat beside him, she squeezed his hand tight. "Sure, it's the regular thing," he concluded, cheerfully.

He rather felt a little glee at Mr. Gale's distress, and Mrs. Gale's crushed I-told-you-so woe in no wise bothered him; but the look in the big, dark eyes of d.i.c.k's sister was too much for Belding.

He choked off his characteristic oath when excited and blurted out, "Say, but d.i.c.k Gale never went to the bad!... Listen!"

Belding had scarcely started d.i.c.k Gale's story when he perceived that never in his life had he such an absorbed and breathless audience.

Presently they were awed, and at the conclusion of that story they sat white-faced, still, amazed beyond speech. d.i.c.k Gale's advent in Casita, his rescue of Mercedes, his life as a border ranger certainly lost no picturesque or daring or even n.o.ble detail in Belding's telling. He kept back nothing but the present doubt of d.i.c.k's safety.

d.i.c.k's sister was the first of the three to recover herself.

"Oh, father!" she cried; and there was a glorious light in her eyes.

"Deep down in my heart I knew d.i.c.k was a man!"

Mr. Gale rose unsteadily from his chair. His frailty was now painfully manifest.

"Mr. Belding, do you mean my son--Richard Gale--has done all that you told us?" he asked, incredulously.

"I sure do," replied Belding, with hearty good will.

"Martha, do you hear?" Mr. Gale turned to question his wife. She could not answer. Her face had not yet regained its natural color.

"He faced that bandit and his gang alone--he fought them?" demanded Mr.

Gale, his voice stronger.

"d.i.c.k mopped up the floor with the whole outfit!"

"He rescued a Spanish girl, went into the desert without food, weapons, anything but his hands? Richard Gale, whose hands were always useless?"

Belding nodded with a grin.