"Couldn"t say, stranger," yawned the landlord. "Oh, sh.o.r.e," he added, as Loudon looked incredulous, "I could tell yuh everybody else what mailed mail for the last month. But that one letter I couldn"t. I didn"t see the man, woman, child, or Injun what mailed it. Three days ago when I got up in the mornin" an" went outside to wash my face I done found that letter an" two bits a-layin" on the door-step. That"s all. Just a letter an" two bits. I clamps on a stamp an" sends her along when the up-stage pulls in."
"Any parties from the Bend in town that day, or the day before?"
"Nary a party as I knows of--but then I ain"t got eyes all over me.
Some sport might "a" slid through an" me not know it."
"I ain"t askin" questions just to make talk," said Loudon, sharply.
"So if yuh ain"t got no real serious objections I"ll ask a couple more."
"No need to get het, stranger," soothed the landlord. "No need to get het. Ask away."
"Any strangers been in town lately?"
"Two, to-day. They"re the only strangers I"ve seen for quite a spell, an" they"re upstairs now. Lady an" gent they are, travellin" separate.
Goin" to the Bend, I reckon. Yest"day the off hind wheel o" the stage dished down at Lew"s Gully, an" she come in on three wheels an" half a cottonwood. Pa.s.sengers had to stay over till Whisky Jim rustled him a new wheel. Whisky"ll pull out in the mornin"."
"Who"s the gent?"
"Drummer. Dunno his name."
"Didn"t Block--you know, Sheriff Block o" Fort Creek--didn"t he stop here a day or two ago? He must "a" come through Rocket."
"Sh.o.r.e he did. But he ain"t no stranger. I see him as many as two or three times a year. Sh.o.r.e he come through Rocket. He had a drink here day before yest"day. Goin" to the Bend, he said."
"Well, if he stops on his way back tell him Tom Loudon was askin" for him. Old friend o" mine, the sheriff is. Just tell him yuh know me, an" he"ll set "em up for the whole town."
"I expect," grinned the landlord. "Was you wantin" beds, gents?"
"That"s us," grunted Scotty. "Me, I"m asleep from the neck down. Show me that bed, Mister."
Loudon, sitting on the edge of his sway-backed cot, pulled off his boots, dropped them clattering on the floor, and looked across at Scotty Mackenzie.
"Block didn"t send that letter--or write it," he said, sliding his long body under the blanket.
"How do yuh know?" came in m.u.f.fled tones from Scotty.
"He ain"t got the brains. No sir, some gent in Paradise Bend sent that letter, an" I think I know his name."
"Who is he?" Scotty was plainly striving to keep awake, and making a poor job of it.
"I"ll tell yuh after we get back to the Bend."
Next morning, while the east was yet lemon and gray, the thunderous clamour of a beaten dish-pan reverberated through the hotel. The hideous din ceased abruptly, and the voice of the landlord became audible.
"Yuh half-witted idjit! Don"t yuh know better"n to beat that pan when there"s a lady in the house? Dish-pans is for common folks, an" don"t yuh forget it! Now you hump yoreself upstairs an" bang on her door right gentle an" tell her the stage is due to pull out in a hour."
"Must be a real lady," commented Loudon, when a door at the other end of the corridor had been duly rapped upon.
"Must be," said Scotty in a singularly joyless tone. "Yuh couldn"t hear what she said to the feller. Reg"lar female ladies always talk so yuh got to ask "em to say it again, they carry fancy-coloured umbrellas when the sun shines, an" they pack their gold specs on the end of a stick. They watch yuh eat, too. I know "em. Yuh bet I do.
"I met a pair of "em once when they was visitin" at the Seven Lazy Seven. They made me so nervous a-lookin" at me that I cut the roof o"
my mouth three times with my knife. Reg"lar ladies don"t make me feel to home nohow. I"m goin" down now an" eat before this one scampers in an" spoils my appet.i.te."
So saying, Scotty almost ran from the room, buckling on his cartridge-belt as he went.
The drummer was at the table when the two Flying M men sat down. An impressive person was the drummer. He was known in his own circle as a "perfectly elegant dresser." If the tightest of tight-fitting suits, the gaudiest of shirts, the highest of collars, an explosive cravat, two watch-chains, a bartender"s curl, and a perpetual leer made for elegance, that drummer was elegant to a degree.
The three had nearly finished breakfast when there came a tapping of quick heels on the stairs. Scotty Mackenzie groaned. The drummer hastily patted his curl and broadened his leer. Loudon raised his eyes and gasped audibly. His knife and fork rattled on the plate. For the woman entering the room was Kate Saltoun.
"Good morning, Tom," said Kate, brightly, quite as if she and he, the best of friends, had parted the previous evening.
The nonplussed Loudon mumbled unintelligibly, but accomplished a pa.s.sable greeting by the time Kate had seated herself directly opposite. The drummer glanced contemptuously at Loudon, and, with a flourish and a killing ogle, handed the bread to Kate. Miss Saltoun helped herself, nodded casual thanks, and bestowed a ravishing smile on Loudon.
"I"m awfully glad to see you again, Tom," she declared, b.u.t.tering her bread. "It"s just like old times, isn"t it?"
Could this smiling young girl be Kate Saltoun? Was this the Kate that had called him names and broken his heart and driven him from the Lazy River? Loudon furtively pinched himself. The pinch hurt.
It was not all a dream then. Kate Saltoun, in the flesh, and separated from him by not more than four feet of scaly oilcloth, was actually smiling at him. Words failed Loudon. He could do nothing but gaze.
Scotty, fearful of an introduction, oozed from the table. The drummer, unused to being ignored, fidgeted. He cleared his throat raucously.
He would show this dumb person in chaps how a gentleman comports himself in the presence of a lady. It was the drummer"s first trip West.
"Beautiful day, Miss, beautiful," he smirked, tilting back in his chair, and rattling his watch-chains. "We should have a quick trip to Paradise Bend. Our driver, I understand, has procured another wheel, and----"
The full-voiced utterance died abruptly.
For Kate had looked imploringly at Loudon, and Loudon had swung about to face the drummer. For the first time in his life the drummer realized how cold, how utterly daunting, a pair of human eyes could be.
"You through?" demanded Loudon.
The drummer endured that disconcerting stare while a man might draw three breaths. Then his eyelids quivered, dropped, and a curious mottled pallor overspread his countenance. He glanced up, met again that disconcerting stare, and quickly looked elsewhere.
"You through?" repeated Loudon.
"I--I don"t know as that"s any of your business," said the drummer, faintly.
"Git out," ordered Loudon.
"Why, look here! By what right----"
"Git out." Loudon had not raised his voice.
The drummer glanced at Miss Saltoun. She was crumbling her bread and looking over his head with an air of intense boredom. So far as she was concerned, he had ceased to exist. And she had been so friendly and companionable on the long ride from Farewell.
"You"ve done kept me waitin" some time," suggested Loudon, softly.
Awkwardly, for he found his knees strangely weak, the drummer rose.
With a lame attempt at jauntiness he pulled down his vest, shot his cuffs, and teetered from the room. He made his way to the bar and called for whisky. His nerves were rather upset.