At that time, also, she meant to have John Benton present, to hear what Pedro had to say about this copper find, and to comfort him in his disappointment, for between these two there had always been close friendship.
However, to her surprise, John attempted no comfort. He was instantly and heartily on the shepherd"s side, and demanded, excitedly:
"Begging pardon for plain words, as you are a woman with growing children, can you sit there calm as mola.s.ses and say "you wish you could do something about it," yet say no more. "Wish!" Why, land of Goshen! this ain"t a wishin" sort of business, this ain"t! It"s "Hurray for old Sobrante! Hurray, hurray, hurray!" Call "em in, captain, dearie! Call in the whole crowd! That was the luckiest gettin" lost anybody ever had! Oh, won"t somebody call "em in?"
To the group about the table it seemed that the sensible carpenter had suddenly gone mad. n.o.body had ever heard him so address the mistress whom he loved, and his excited prancing around the room, alternately hugging and examining the mineral in his hand, added to the impression. While the captain departed to summon the other "boys,"
Aunt Sally attempted to reduce her hilarious son to sanity by a sharp box on the ear, and the sharper reprimand:
"You, John Benton! Do you mean to bring my gray hairs with sorrer to the grave? What"s the reason of these goings on, I"d like to know? I never was so disgraced in all my life, never. Now, quit! Quit to once, or----"
He paid no heed to her, but laid his hand on Pedro"s shoulder and shook it vigorously, demanding:
"What kind of a feller are you, anyway? Why in the name of sense didn"t you tell this thing while the boss was alive? Shucks! Half of you is Indian, and that means dirt. Known it all this time, and kept it hid! You"d ought to be drawn and quartered, that"s what you had!"
Mrs. Benton advanced with threatening hand, and from force of habit he retreated before her, and sank into the nearest chair; so that, when his mates entered, they found him sitting with bent head and down-hanging hands, as limp and inert as if his vitality had been sapped by the news he had heard.
"What"s up?" asked "Marty," making his respectful salutation to the mistress, but looking past her toward the carpenter, who, with another change of mood, sprang again to his feet and waved the fragment of mineral overhead, exclaiming:
"This is "up"! Copper"s "up"! Sobrante"s "up"! And lucky the men that belong to it. Only--that old villain, yonder, has known it even since forever, and was mean enough to keep his secret. That"s what he is, that Pedro, yonder!"
Yet, with another whimsical change, he seized the shepherd"s hand and wrung it till even that hardened member ached. But the Indian remained as calm and undisturbed, amid the torrent of blame or praise, as if he had been sitting alone at his weaving on the mesa. His soul was satisfied at last. He had done that which he had pondered doing for many years, without being able, heretofore, to bring his thought to action. Surely he had known that, locked within his own breast, his "secret" was worthless; yet he had clung to it tenaciously. Now he had imparted it to others, and behold! all the world knew it, even so soon. Well, that did not matter. It was no longer his. His part was ended. Meanwhile, on his beloved upland, there was a faithful collie watching for his return, and lambs bleating, needing his care.
Suddenly he rose, placed his cherished staff in Mrs. Trent"s hands, and bowing low, said:
"Keep this, as I have kept it, where none but you may find. At the Navidad I come once more, the last. Adios."
His departure was so unexpected that, at first, they did not try to prevent it, but Jessica was swift to follow and protest:
"Not to-night, dear Pedro! Please not to-night. You have been so good to me, you must stay and be glad with us this one night. In the morning----"
"In the morning the sheep will need new pasture. Adios, nina."
"Then, if go you must, it shall not be on foot. Wait! I know! Prince, Mr. Hale"s horse, that he left with you on the mesa. It is here. The naughty children painted him, but I saw him in the corral, just now, and you shall ride him home. That is if you will not stay, even for me."
"The Navidad. Till then, adios."
She had never heard him talk so much nor so well as since these few hours among his friends. He seemed to be almost another Pedro than the silent shepherd of the mesa, and as she followed him, taking his direct way to the paddock, she wondered at the uprightness of his bearing and the unconscious dignity which clothed him like a garment.
Then she remembered something else--his blanket, and sprang to his side again, entreating:
"Just one five minutes more, Pedro. Your blanket. You must have a new one."
He hesitated and sighed. Then shook his head sadly. That which he had torn, to bind the dwarf, had been a Navajo weave, so fine and faultless that even he, the wonderful weaver, knew it for a marvel.
There could not be its mate in all that country, nor had been since the old padres went and took with them, as he believed, all the wisdom of the world.
Before he had caught and bridled the horse, Jessica was back, and playfully enveloped in a wonderful piece of cloth that made the Indian stare. If it were not the mate to his lost treasure, it was quite as fine and soft, as generous in size, and far cleaner.
"See, dear old fellow. This was my father"s. My mother sends it to you with her love. Put it on, so I may see how fine you look. Oh, grand!
When the children play "Indian" why can"t they copy you, and not those dirty Diggers, that Ferd teaches them to be like! Pedro, you are splendid, and--I love you! I love you!"
All at once, as she gazed upon him, there returned to her a memory of that dark time in the cavern"s pit, where he had found her, and which, in the general rejoicing over her safety she had, for the present, almost forgotten. By now, save for this old man, she might have been dead.
He received the onslaught of her embrace exactly as he had accepted the gift of the blanket--in silence. There was a momentary lighting of his somber eyes, but no word, as, putting her quietly down upon the ground, he mounted the barebacked Prince and loped swiftly away into the darkness and solitude.
Brighter by contrast was the room to which the little captain returned, after Prince and his rider had vanished into the night, and the circle of lamp-lighted faces gleamed with excitement. Everybody seemed trying to outtalk his neighbor, and only one glowering countenance showed dark by contrast; the face of Elsa Winkler, with its eyes angrily fixed upon the basket which Mrs. Trent held on her lap, quite forgetting what it contained in her listening to the others" words.
Suddenly, Samson brought his fist down upon the table, enforcing a brief silence, while demanding:
"What"s amiss with using the capital on hand? There sits our "admiral," with money enough in that basket to start the whole business. Set Wolfgang to manage, and the rest of us to dig and delve. More"n one here has tried mining for a yellower metal than this"--holding up the bit of copper--""twould do us proud to give the first pick to Sobrante"s fortune! Lads, what say?"
"Ay, and right off! That"s what we say!" cried somebody, but Mrs.
Trent lifted her hand, and they were silent.
She had become as interested now as any of the others; far more, indeed, since if this amazing tale of Pedro"s proved true she would be able, at last, to fulfill her husband"s interrupted life-work, and make Sobrante a power for good in the world.
"What does Elsa say? Will she lend us this money?"
[B] Christmas box or gift.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW
All waited breathlessly for Elsa"s answer. They knew her greed, or, rather, why she h.o.a.rded her money so closely, and were not so surprised, after all, when it came.
"No, I cannot."
"Can"t? I should like to know why you can"t?" demanded John Benton, indignantly, though Mrs. Trent protested against his urgency by a nod of her head.
"It is for the little one. It is mine. I want it already."
The ranch mistress at once extended the basket, but it was now the carpenter"s turn to object.
"Please, "admiral," not so fast. Let her tell us, first, how much money she lost."
Elsa caught her breath. To save her life she could not have stated in exact figures the sum, because, though she had known to a dime before the robbery, at, and after that time, she had recklessly tossed aside the little that remained. This wasted portion belonged with the whole amount, and being as truthful as she was penurious, she hesitated. Her color came and went, as she looked anxiously into John"s face, realizing that he had laid a trap for her and caught her in it.
But the mistress confronted her, saying:
"Never mind that, Elsa. I do not blame you for refusing to try experiments with what you have so hardly earned and so nearly lost.
These are certainly your own little money bags, as I judge from their knitted covers; but it is just possible there may have been other money added to that was taken from you. So, tell me as nearly as you can, what you had, and we will examine them all together."
This was wise, and commended itself even to the eager Elsa, who stated promptly and proudly:
"Three t"ousand of the dollars it was. All gold. Big gold and littles ones. In them bags was lost entirely. In the others--I don"t know. Oh!
I don"t know. It was much, much!"