The Bandit of Hell's Bend - Edgar Rice Burroughs (reading tree .txt) 📗

“More likely they’re renegades,” said Shorty. “Anyhow I ain’t a-takin’ no chances on no Injuns—I shoots fust an’ axes for their pass later.”

“You ain’t never seed a hos-tyle Injun, Shorty,” said Texas Pete.

“A lot you know about it, you sawed-off, hammered-down, squint-eyed horse thief,” retorted Shorty courteously; “I’m a bad man with Injuns.”

“By gollies!” exclaimed Pete, “thet reminds me of another verse:

“‘So bring on yore bad men, yore killers an’ sich

An’ send out some Greasers to dig me a ditch,

Fer when I gits through, ef I takes any pains,

You’ll need a big hole fer to plant the remains.’”

On the opposite side of the chuck wagon, where a tent had been pitched for Diana Henders, a little group surrounded her fire. Beside the girl there were her father, Hal Colby and Jefferson Wainright, Jr. The two young men always gravitated in Diana’s direction when off duty. Colby had been quick to realize the advantage that the other’s education gave him and bright enough to remain a silent observer of his manners and conversation. Inwardly he held the Easterner in vast contempt, yet he cultivated him and often rode with him that he might learn from him something of those refinements which he guessed constituted the basis of Diana’s evident liking for Wainright. He asked him many questions, got him to talk about books, and made mental note of various titles with the determination to procure and read the books that he had heard the man discuss with Diana.

Bull, on his part, kept away from the Henders’ fire in the evening and in the day time Colby saw to it that his assignments sent him far afield from where there was much likelihood of Diana being, with the result that he saw less of her than was usual at home.

The ex-foreman’s natural reserve had degenerated almost to sullenness. He spoke seldom and never smiled, but he rode hard and did his work well, until he came to be acknowledged as the best all-round man in the outfit. There was no horse that he wouldn’t ride, no risk that he wouldn’t take, no work that he would ever refuse, no matter how unfair the assignment, with the result that the men respected him though there were none who seemed to like his company, with the exception of Texas Pete.

“Well, boys,” said Elias Henders, rising, “I guess we’d better be turning in. Tomorrow’s going to be a hard day.”

The two younger men rose, Colby stretching and yawning. “I reckon you’re right, Mr. Henders,” he agreed, but waiting for Wainright to make the first move to leave. The latter paused to roll a cigarette—an accomplishment that he had only recently brought to a state even approximating perfection. He used both hands and was rather slow. Colby eyed him, guessing that he was merely fighting for time in order to force the foreman to go first. Slowly the latter withdrew his own pouch of tobacco from his shirt pocket.

“Reckon I’ll roll a smoke by the light of your fire, Di, before I do,” he remarked.

He creased the paper, poured in a little tobacco, and, as he drew the pouch closed with his teeth and left hand, deftly rolled the cigarette with his right, bending it slightly in the center to keep it from opening up. Wainright realized that if he had -a conversational advantage over Colby there were other activities in which the foreman greatly outshone him. Rolling a smoke was one of them and that was doubtless why Colby had chosen to roll one at a moment that odious comparison might be made.

Wainright lighted his and shifted to the other foot. Would Colby never leave! Colby permitted three matches to burn out before he finally succeeded in getting a light, thus gaining a considerable advantage in time over Wainright. Elias Henders had repaired to his blankets, just beyond Diana’s tent and out of sight.

The girl realized the game that the two men were playing and could scarce repress an inclination to laughter. She wondered which would win, or if she would have to call it a draw and send them both about their business. Wainright decided the matter.

“Come on, Colby,” he said, throwing an arm about the other’s shoulders, “we’re keeping Miss Henders up. Good night, Miss Henders,” and raising his hat he moved off, taking Colby with him. They had taken about twenty steps when Wainright halted and wheeled about.

“Oh, I say, Miss Henders,” he called, “there’s something I wanted to ask you,” and he started back. “Don’t wait, for me, Colby,” he threw over his shoulder; “I’ll be along in a moment.”

Colby glared at the other’s retreating back through the darkness, hurled his cigarette to the ground and stamped away. out-generated. “I’ll get him yet,” he mumbled. “He may be pretty slick at them parlor tricks, but they ain’t many parlors in Arizona. The damn dude!”

Wainright rejoined Diana by the fire. “It’s too beautiful an evening to go to bed,” he said, “and I haven’t had half a chance to talk with you. Colby hangs around as though he had a mortgage on your time and was going to foreclose. He sort of puts a damper on conversation unless it revolves about cows-that’s all he can talk about.”

“It’s a subject that is always of interest to us out here,” replied the girl loyally. “Cows are really our lives, you know.”

“Oh. that’s all right, for men; but there are other things in life for a girl like you, Miss Henders. You deserve something better than cows-and cowboys. You love music and books, and you can’t deny that you like to talk about them. You belong East-you belong back in Boston.”

“We’re going back, not to Boston, but to New York, after the round-up-Dad and I,” she told him.

“No! really? How funny! I’ve got to go back too. Maybe we could all go together.”

“That would be fine,” she agreed.

“Wouldn’t you like to stay back there?” he asked, almost excitedly, and then quite unexpectedly he took her hand. “Miss Henders!” he exclaimed. “Diana! Wouldn’t you like to stay there always? I’d make a home for you there-I’d make you happy-I love you, Diana. We could be married before we left. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, going back there together on our honeymoon! And then to Europe! We could travel everywhere. Money would mean nothing. I don’t have to tell you how rich we are.”

“No,” she replied, “I have heard your father mention it,” and withdrew her hand from his.

He did not seem to notice the allusion to his father’s boastfulness.

“Tell me that you love me,” he insisted. “Tell me that you will marry me.”

“But I don’t know that I do love you,” she replied. “Why, I scarcely know you, and you certainly don’t know me well enough to know that you would want to live with me all the rest of your life.”

“Oh, yes, I do!” he exclaimed. “If there was only some way to prove it. Words are so futile-they cannot express my love, Diana. Why, .I worship you. There is no sacrifice that I would not willingly and gladly make for you or yours. I would die for you, dear girl, and thank God for the chance!”

“‘But I don’t want you to die for me. I want you to go to bed and give me a chance to think. I have never been in love. Possibly I love you and do not know it. There is no need for haste anyway. I will give you my answer before I go East. Now run along, like a good boy.”

“But tell me, darling, that I may hope,” he begged.

“You will do that anyway, if you love me,” she told him, laughingly, as she turned and entered her tent. “Good night!”