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Page 87
Galloway's second step, known only to himself and Florrie, was a
private meeting with the banker's daughter. It occurred upon the
second evening following his return, just after dark among the
cottonwoods, but a hundred yards from her home. He had made the
opportunity with the despatch which marked him now; he had watched for
her during the day, had appeared merely to pass her by chance on the
street, and had paused just long enough to ask her to meet him.
"I have done all that I planned to do," he announced triumphantly, his
eyes holding hers, forcing upon her spirit the mastery of his own.
"The power in Mexico is going to be Francisco Villa. I have seen him.
Let me talk with you to-night, Florence. History is in the making; it
may be you and I together who shape the destiny of a people."
After all, she was but a little over sixteen, her head filled with the
bright stuff of romance, and he was a forceful man who for his own
purposes had long studied her. She came to the tryst, albeit half in
trembling, a dozen tremulous times ready for a fleeing retreat.
Again he was all deference to her. He builded cunningly upon the fact
that he trusted her; that he, a strong man, put his faith in her, a
woman. He flattered her as she had never been flattered, not too
subtly, yet not so broadly as to arouse her suspicion of his intent.
He spoke quietly at first, then his voice seeming charged with his
leaping ambition set responsive chords within her thrilling. He
pictured to her the state he was going to found, organize, rule, an
uncertain number of fair miles stretching along a tropical coast; he
made her see again a palatial dwelling with servants in livery, the
blue waters of the Gulf, the white of dancing sails. He spoke of a
peace which was going to be declared between warring factions below the
border within thirty days, of the magnificence to be Francisco Villa's,
of the position to be occupied by Jim Galloway at Villa's side. His
planned development of a gold-mine he mentioned merely casually.
And then at length when Florrie was prepared for the passionate
declaration he humbled himself at her feet, lifted his hands to her in
supplication, told her in burning words of his love. Whether the man
did love her with all of the strength of his nature or whether he but
meant to strike through her at John Engle, the richest man of this
section of the State, it was for Jim Galloway alone to know. Certainly
not for Florrie, who listened wide-eyed. . . . Once she thought that
he was about to sweep her up into his arms; they had lifted suddenly
from his sides. She had drawn back, crying sharply: "No, no!" But he
had waited, had again grown deeply deferential, swerving immediately to
further vividly colored pictures of life as it might be, of power and
pomp, of a secure position from which a man and a woman might direct
policies of state, shaping the lives of other men and women.
And in the end of that ardent interview Jim Galloway's caution was
still with him, his knowledge of the girl's nature clear in his mind.
He did not ask her answer; he merely sought a third opportunity to
speak with her, suggesting that upon the next night she slip out and
meet him. He would have a horse for her, one for himself; they could
ride for a half-hour. He had so much to tell her.
Perhaps a much more important factor than she realized in her action
was Florrie's new riding-habit. It had been acquired but three days
before and she knew very well just how she looked in it. There would
be a moon, almost at the full. The full moon and the new riding-habit
were the allies given by fate to Jim Galloway.
Besides all of this, she had not seen Elmer Page for a month. Further,
she knew that Elmer had gone riding upon at least one occasion with a
girl of Las Palmas, Superintendent Kemble's daughter. And finally,
there lies much rich adventure in just doing that which we know we
should leave alone. So Florrie, while her mother and father thought
that she had gone early to bed, was on her way to meet Galloway.
They rode out of the cottonwood fringed arroyo just before moonrise,
circling the town, Florrie scarcely marking whether they rode north or
south. But Galloway knew what he was doing and they turned slowly
toward the southwest. As they rode, his horse drawn in close to hers,
he talked as he had never talked before; his voice rang from the first
word with triumphant assurance.
"When he calls she will follow!" Virginia had thought fearfully of
them. To-night he was calling eloquently, she was following,
frightened and yet obedient to his mastery.
Galloway's influence over the girl, that of a strong will over a weak
and fluttering one, was quite naturally the stronger when they were
alone together. She had always been willing, sometimes a bit eager, to
make a hero of him; he had long thoroughly understood her. To-night
was the brief battle of wills, with him summoning all of his strength,
flushed with victory. Abruptly now he urged that she marry him; a
moment later his insistent pleading was subtly tinged with command. He
was the arbiter of the hour; he told her of a priest waiting for them
at a little village a dozen miles away. They would be married
to-night; they were eloping even at this palpitant instant!
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