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Page 78
She had no business out alone at this time of night and she knew it.
So she hurried on, anxious to get home before her father, who was
returning late from a visit to one of his ranches. Abreast of the Casa
Blanca she slowed up, looking in curiously. Then, as again she was
hastening on, she heard Jim Galloway's deep voice in a quiet "Good
evening, Miss Florence."
"Good evening!" gasped Florrie aloud. And "Oh!" said Florrie under her
breath. For Galloway's figure had separated itself from the shadows at
the side of his open door and had come out into the street, while
Galloway was saying in a matter-of-fact way: "I'll see you home."
She wanted to run and could not. She hung a moment balancing upon a
high heel in indecision. Galloway stepped forward swiftly, coming to
her side. "Oh, dear," the inner Florrie was saying. A glance over her
shoulder showed her Black Bill standing out in front of Struve's hotel.
Well, there were compensations.
She started to hurry on, and had Jim Galloway been less sure of
himself, troubled with the diffidence of youth as was Elmer, he must
have either given over his purpose or else fairly run to keep up with
her. But being Jim Galloway, he laid a gentle but none the less
restraining hand upon her arm.
"Please," he said quietly. "I want to talk with you. May I?"
Florrie's arm burned where he had touched her. She was all in a
flutter, half frightened and the other half flattered. A shade more
leisurely they walked on toward the cottonwoods. Here, in the shadows,
Galloway stopped and Florrie, although beginning to tremble, stopped
with him.
"Men have given me a black name here," he was saying as he faced her.
"They've made me somewhat worse than I am. I feel that I have few
friends, certainly very few of my own class. I like to think of you as
a friend. May I?"
It was distinctly pleasant to have a big man like Galloway, a man whom
for good or for bad the whole State knew, pleading with her. It gave a
new sort of assurance to her theory that she was "grown up"; it added
to her importance in her own eyes.
"Why, yes," said Florrie.
"I am going away," he continued gravely. "For just how long I don't
know. A week, perhaps a month, maybe longer. It is a business matter
of considerable importance, Florence. Nor is it entirely without
danger. It will take me down below the border, and an American in
Mexico right now takes his life entirely into his own hands. You know
that, don't you?"
"Then why do you go?"
Galloway smiled down at her.
"If I held back every time a danger-signal was thrown out," he said
lightly, "I wouldn't travel very far. Oh, I'll come back all right; a
man may go through fire itself and return if he has the incentive which
I have." His tone altered subtly. Florrie started.
"But before I go," went on Galloway, "I am going to tell you something
which I think you know already. You do, don't you, Florence?"
She would not have been Florrie at all, but some very different,
unromantic, and unimaginative creature, had she failed of
comprehension. Jim Galloway was actually making love to her!
"What do you mean, Mr. Galloway?" she managed to stammer.
"I mean that what I am telling you is for your ears alone. I am
placing a confidence in you, the greatest confidence a man can place in
a girl. Or in a woman, Florence. I am trusting that what I say will
remain just between you and me for the present. . . . When I come back
I will be no longer just Jim Galloway of the Casa Blanca, but Galloway
of one of the biggest grants in Mexico, with mile after mile of fertile
lands, with a small army of servants, vaqueros, and retainers, a sort
of ruler of my own State! It sounds like a fairy-tale, Florence, but
it is the sober truth made possible by conditions below the border. My
estates will run down to the blue water of the Gulf; I shall have my
own fleet of ocean-going yachts; there is a port upon my own land.
There will be a home overlooking the sea like a king's palace. Will
you think of all that while I am gone? Will you think of me a little,
too? Will you remember that my little kingdom is crying out for its
queen? . . . No; I am not asking you to answer me now. I am just
asking that you hold this as our secret until I come back. Until I
come back for you! . . . I shall stand here until you reach your
home," he broke off suddenly. "Good night, my dear."
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