The Award of Justice Part 41

"I guess he hain't got none, he seems to be out here for pleasure like his brother."

"Pleasure!" growled Maverick, with an oath, "there's too many of 'em, d.a.m.n 'em, out here for pleasure; I'd give some of 'em some pleasure that they ain't a lookin' for, if I had a chance."

His wife made no response.

"What's that girl Lyle tricked out in such finery for?" he next asked.

"They're clothes that Miss Gladden give her," Mrs. Maverick replied, "and it saves us jest so much, so you needn't growl; besides she looks nice."

"Looks nice!" said Maverick, contemptuously, "you're always bound to stick up for her! Look here, old woman," he added, in a lower tone, but which Lyle could hear, "have you been tellin' that girl anything?

She don't own me for her daddy lately, I notice; now, if you've been puttin' her or anybody else onto anything of the kind, I can tell you you'll be d.a.m.ned sorry for it before you git through with me."

"I hain't said a word, it's jest a notion she's took, I dun'no why. I hain't said nothin' nor I ain't a goin' to, as long as you behave yourself, Jim Maverick, but the proofs is all ready in case you don't treat me and her jest as you'd orter."

A terrible oath burst from Maverick's lips, but the entrance of the two boys and Minty, prevented any further conversation on this subject; and Lyle, seated in the little porch whither she had retreated from the dining-room, reflected on what she had just heard, its meaning seeming very clear to her in the light of what Miss Gladden had told her the night before.

There were proofs then in existence, probably in that very house, as to her ident.i.ty. Her friends were correct in their surmises: she had been stolen, and the villain who had committed the deed, even now trembled with apprehension lest his villainy should become known.

Those proofs she must have, and it would be worse than useless to demand them of either Maverick or his wife. She must search for them.

This she resolved to do, day by day, as opportunity afforded, until there should be no nook or corner which she had not thoroughly explored.

As Lyle recalled all that occurred within the past twenty-four hours, the most eventful period within her recollection thus far, she felt that she had virtually broken with the old life and all its a.s.sociations, and that she stood upon the threshold of a new life, higher, n.o.bler,--perhaps sweeter,--than any of which she had ever dreamed.

The return of the little company of friends to the house interrupted her thoughts, but not before she had decided fully as to her future course.

After supper, it was decided to spend that first evening on the summit of one of the nearest mountains, to watch the glories of the sunset, and to give Morton Rutherford a bird's-eye view of the beautiful scenery, before introducing him to its details.

But on the second evening, the entire party set forth for the trip to the cascades, for which Ned was so especially desirous.

Mr. Houston and Miss Gladden led the little procession, Houston carrying her guitar. Ned had const.i.tuted himself Lyle's escort by taking the violin, and they came next, while Morton Rutherford and Arthur Van Dorn brought up the rear.

Their two boats were already awaiting them, and Ned, having a.s.sisted Lyle to a seat, turned to Van Dorn.

"Mr. Van Dorn," he said in his blandest tones, "may we have the pleasure of your company in our boat?"

As Van Dorn laughingly accepted the invitation, Morton Rutherford turned toward his brother, saying:

"Are you not going to extend an invitation to me, also?"

"Unfortunately," said Ned, with as much dignity as he could a.s.sume, "this boat will seat but three people."

"Is that so!" replied his brother, with a curious downward inflection, "unfortunately, then, for Mr. Houston and Miss Gladden, you will have to take the other boat, as I am going in this one myself," and stepping lightly into the boat, he pulled it quickly out into the water, leaving Ned in a state of bewilderment, alone on sh.o.r.e, as Mr.

Houston and Miss Gladden were already seated in their boat, and watching this little by-play.

There was a general laugh at Ned's expense, as he clambered into the other boat, exclaiming good-naturedly:

"Well, Mort, that's an awfully shabby trick, but then, it's all I can expect of you, anyhow."

"It's all you deserve, after such attempted selfishness on your part,"

replied his brother.

They rowed across the lake in the soft light, the glory of the setting sun still reflected from the surrounding peaks, the music of their boat songs accompanied by the dip and plash of the oars.

At last they reached the cascades, and rounding a little promontory, the glory of that wondrous scene suddenly burst upon them. For a moment Mr. Rutherford sat speechless, and Lyle, facing him, silently enjoyed his surprise and his ecstasy as keenly as he enjoyed the wonderful beauty about him. In his face, she read the same capacity for joy or for suffering which Nature had bestowed upon herself, and when his eyes suddenly met hers again, he saw the tears glistening in their s.h.i.+ning depths, and with quick, intuitive sympathy, readily understood the cause.

For a while they rowed back and forth in almost silent admiration; then the boats were brought side by side at the foot of the cascades, and the air resounded with song; sometimes their voices all blending together in exquisite harmony, then in twos and threes, while occasionally, some beautiful old song would be given as a solo.

It had been an evening of rare enjoyment for each one, and they were just about to turn their boats homeward, when Ned Rutherford exclaimed:

"I say, don't let us leave this spot until Miss Maverick sings that song she gave us the first time we came out here, the first we ever heard her sing. I never can forget that song, and it is always a.s.sociated with this place."

The others joined in the request. Lyle hesitated. Could she trust herself to sing that song to-night? It was easy to sing when love had come to another's heart, but could she sing it now that he had come to her own?

She consented, and the oars rested once more. With her eyes fixed on the distant mountains, Lyle began her song:

"Love is come with a song and a smile."

At the first words, Morton Rutherford started, and as he fixed his eyes on the beautiful singer, her fair form and s.h.i.+ning hair outlined against the silvery cascades, it seemed to him the loveliest sight of his whole life.

Her voice, exquisitely sweet as she began, gained in expression and power, until she sang as she had never sung before; and as the last notes died away, Houston, bending his head low, whispered to Miss Gladden:

"Leslie, my dear, do you think now that Lyle's heart is not susceptible? She never could sing that song in that way if she knew nothing of love."

And Miss Gladden made no reply, for her own heart was too full for words.

The song was ended, and Lyle's eyes suddenly met the dark ones fixed upon her face, and though no words were spoken, she read in their depths that hers was not the only heart to which love had come.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.

That night the diminutive lamp that did duty in the room a.s.signed to the two brothers burned till long past the hour of midnight. By its dim light, Ned Rutherford indited a letter to his fiancee, while his brother quietly paced back and forth, the entire length of the small apartment, his hands clasped behind him and his head thrown back,--his usual att.i.tude when in deep thought.

"Getting up another article on the application of electric force?"

inquired Ned, as he paused to watch his brother.

"No," was the reply, "I am thinking at present of a force far more subtle and more powerful than that of electricity."

"Why, how's that?" asked Ned in surprise, "I thought electricity was one of your pet hobbies."

"Never mind about my pet hobbies," said his brother, with a smile, "just continue your writing for the present."

Half an hour later, as Ned folded and sealed the voluminous letter, and placed upon it the long, foreign address, his brother, watching him with a curious half smile, said:

"I shall have to give you credit for a great deal of constancy, Ned, more than I really supposed you possessed."

"How's that?" asked Ned, with a slight blush, "to what do you refer."