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Page 11
The sun went away; the horse ate his supper; and the girl slept. By and by
the horse drowsed off too, and the bleating sheep in the distance, the
lowing of the cattle, the sound of night-birds, came now and again from
the distance; but still the girl slept on. The moon rose full and round,
shining with flickering light through the cottonwoods; and the girl
stirred in a dream and thought some one was pursuing her, but slept on
again. Then out through the night rang a vivid human voice, "Hello!
Hello!" The horse roused from his sleep, and stamped his feet nervously,
twitching at his bridle; but the relaxed hand that lay across the leather
strap did not quicken, and the girl slept on. The horse listened, and
thought he heard a sound good to his ear. He neighed, and neighed again;
but the girl slept on.
The first ray of the rising sun at last shot through the gray of dawning,
and touched the girl full in the face as it slid under the branches of her
sheltering tree. The light brought her acutely to her senses. Before she
opened her eyes she seemed to be keenly and painfully aware of much that
had gone on during her sleep. With another flash her eyes flew open. Not
because she willed it, but rather as if the springs that held the lids
shut had unexpectedly been touched and they sprang back because they had
to.
She shrank, as her eyes opened, from a new day, and the memory of the old
one. Then before her she saw something which kept her motionless, and
almost froze the blood in her veins. She could not stir nor breathe, and
for a moment even thought was paralyzed. There before her but a few feet
away stood a man! Beyond him, a few feet from her own horse, stood his
horse. She could not see it without turning her head, and that she dared
not do; but she knew it was there, felt it even before she noticed the
double stamping and breathing of the animals. Her keen senses seemed to
make the whole surrounding landscape visible to her without the moving of
a muscle. She knew to a nicety exactly how her weapons lay, and what
movement would bring her hand to the trigger of her pistol; yet she
stirred not.
Gradually she grew calm enough to study the man before her. He stood
almost with his back turned toward her, his face just half turned so that
one cheek and a part of his brow were visible. He was broad-shouldered and
well built. There was strength in every line of his body. She felt how
powerless she would be in his grasp. Her only hope would be in taking him
unaware. Yet she moved not one atom.
He wore a brown flannel shirt, open at the throat, brown leather belt and
boots; in short, his whole costume was in harmonious shades of brown, and
looked new as if it had been worn but a few days. His soft felt sombrero
was rolled back from his face, and the young red sun tinged the short
brown curls to a ruddy gold. He was looking toward the rising sun. The
gleam of it shot across his brace of pistols in his belt, and flashed twin
rays into her eyes. Then all at once the man turned and looked at her.
Instantly the girl sprang to her feet, her hands upon her pistol, her eyes
meeting with calm, desperate defiance the blue ones that were turned to
her. She was braced against a tree, and her senses were measuring the
distance between her horse and herself, and deciding whether escape were
possible.
"Good morning," said the man politely. "I hope I haven't disturbed your
nap."
The girl eyed him solemnly, and said nothing. This was a new kind of man.
He was not like the one from whom she had fled, nor like any she had ever
seen; but he might be a great deal worse. She had heard that the world was
full of wickedness.
"You see," went on the man with an apologetic smile, which lit up his eyes
in a wonderfully winning way, "you led me such a desperate race nearly all
day yesterday that I was obliged to keep you in sight when I finally
caught you."
He looked for an answering smile, but there was none. Instead, the girl's
dark eyes grew wide and purple with fear. He was the same one, then, that
she had seen in the afternoon, the voice who had cried to her; and he had
been pursuing her. He was an enemy, perhaps, sent by the man from whom she
fled. She grasped her pistol with trembling fingers, and tried to think
what to say or do.
The young man wondered at the formalities of the plains. Were all these
Western maidens so reticent?
"Why did you follow me? Who did you think I was?" she asked breathlessly
at last.
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