Jack studied the approaching figures for an instant, a smile of amus.e.m.e.nt lighting up his usually stern features, while Van Dorn hastily slipped on his gla.s.ses for a better view.
"That," said Jack, "is evidently the famous phantom of Spotted Horse gulch, but who has originated the idea?"
"It must be Lyle," said Houston, "she said the ghost would walk to-night."
"Well, by George!" exclaimed Van Dorn, "that is pretty good anyway."
Slowly the ghost approached, giving the interested observers an opportunity to note the details of the make-up; the ghastly face, the heavy beard of dark colored wool, the narrow strips of red flannel streaming from breast and side, and even the heavy woolen socks upon the horse"s feet, m.u.f.fling the sound of his steps. Suddenly the slouch hat was raised, and the shining eyes of Lyle looked out from the strange disguise, as she announced in triumphant tones:
"The road is clear, and you are safe!"
"Lyle," said Houston, "how did you ever think of this? Did you devise this masquerade?"
"The idea was mine," she answered, "it occurred to me the other night while listening to their talk, but Miss Gladden helped me to carry it out."
"And was it a success?" asked Van Dorn wonderingly, having more practical knowledge of mines than of miners, "Were the men frightened?"
"You would have thought so, could you have seen Pete Brody," Lyle replied, with a low laugh, "I believe he is running yet, and I wouldn"t be surprised if Jake has lost what few wits he ever possessed."
"It was one of the best schemes that could have been devised," said Jack, gravely, adding, "We probably owe you more than we know."
Quietly and safely the little party proceeded up the winding road, and having reached their several destinations, all were soon at rest. Even the spotted horse, securely stabled in his accustomed place, gravely munched his wisp of hay without a thought of the ghostly escapade in which he had borne so prominent a part.
But in the miners" quarters consternation reigned, as Pete and Bud related their experiences, Jake being utterly incapacitated for speech. Even to Jack and Van Dorn, Mike had a fearful tale to tell of the sight he had witnessed, while alone with Rex in the cabin, and it was some time before his perturbed Irish fancies could be soothed; and "the night that the ghost walked," was one long remembered and frequently recalled by many of the denizens of the little mining camp.
CHAPTER x.x.xV.
After the events leading up to the examination of the Lucky Chance mine, it was considered best for a while to pursue very nearly the same line of conduct that had been followed for the last ten days, carefully avoiding any abrupt change which might attract attention.
All necessary data had now been secured, and Houston felt that he could better afford to remain quiet for a brief time and reconnoiter the situation, than by any hasty move to excite further suspicion at the present time.
At the breakfast table the next morning, however, the thoughts of all present were partially diverted into different channels, by the arrival of a telegram for Houston which proved to be a message from Ned Rutherford, to the effect that he and his brother were on their way to Silver City, and would be at the mining camp within the next twenty-four or thirty-six hours.
Haight had been exceedingly angry on learning from Maverick, early in the morning, of the failure of the men to report anything definite concerning the movements of those whom they had been sent out to watch. He had accomplished nothing, and was uncertain what course next to pursue, and he too, decided to remain quiet for the present. He continued to watch Houston and Van Dorn, his ugly suspicions only half concealed by the smiling exterior which he tried to a.s.sume. He had hastened to make peace with Minty, as he feared the results which might follow should his plottings become known to Houston, not dreaming that the latter had woven such a web around, not the mining company alone, but including also its princ.i.p.al employes, that in remaining where he was, a fate far worse than his fears awaited him.
During the day, Miss Gladden and Lyle busied themselves with preparations for the expected guests. A room on the ground floor, adjoining and connecting with the one occupied by Houston and Van Dorn, and with a view of the lake and cascades, was put in readiness; and books, sketches and bric-a-brac contributed by Houston and Miss Gladden, and tastefully arranged by Lyle, relieved the blank walls and plain furniture, and made the place look quite attractive.
Houston was jubilant over the information acquired by their expedition of the previous night; nothing out of the usual course occurred that day, and returning earlier from his customary visit to the mines than he had done of late, the remainder of the evening was devoted to music and song.
After Miss Gladden and Lyle had gone up-stairs, they sat for some time talking over the events of the last few days, and antic.i.p.ating the coming of Rutherford and his brother on the morrow. Many were Miss Gladden"s surmises regarding the stranger, and Lyle then learned for the first time that he was an intimate friend of Houston"s.
"Everard tells me that though Ned is a pleasant fellow and good hearted, yet he is not in the least like his brother. He says Morton, as he always calls him, is a most perfect gentleman in every sense of the word, and a scholar of rare intellectual attainments, fond of scientific research, and a brilliant writer."
"I judged from his picture that the two brothers were very unlike,"
said Lyle, "and from your description he will be in many respects a new specimen to come under my limited observation; I will have to make a study of him, and see if he is at all like my idea of a literary person. I would not suppose, though, there would be much to interest him here; the only rarities he will find are possibly new phases of ignorance and coa.r.s.eness and crime."
Miss Gladden thought, as she looked at Lyle, that if the new-comer did not find rare beauty of mind and soul, as well as of form and face, in that secluded region, he certainly must be very unappreciative; but she only said:
"You seem to have forgotten what Ned said of his brother, that his love of the beautiful was so intense, he doubted whether he would ever want to leave the scenery and surroundings here."
"That was simply one of Mr. Rutherford"s extravagant expressions,"
Lyle replied, "the natural surroundings here are certainly beautiful, but their beauty only makes the conditions mentally and morally the more painfully conspicuous, and if I can see the contrast so plainly, who have always lived here and known no other life, how must it look to one such as he!"
"Why do you always insist upon it so strongly that you have never known any other life than this?" inquired Miss Gladden.
"Why?" asked Lyle, in surprise, "I suppose simply because it is a fact, the one hateful truth that I despise, and so I say it over and over to myself, to check these foolish dream-fancies of mine, that seem as if I had known something better sometime."
Lyle spoke with more bitterness than Miss Gladden had ever heard before, and the latter answered gently:
"If I were in your place, Lyle dear, I would not try to check these fancies; I would encourage them."
Lyle gazed at her friend in astonishment. "Encourage them!" she repeated, "I don"t understand your meaning, why would you advise that?"
"To see to what they would lead, my dear." Then, as Lyle looked bewildered, she continued:
"Did it never occur to you, Lyle, that these fancies, as you call them, might possibly be an effort on the part of memory to recall something, long ago forgotten?"
"I never thought of such a possibility," she replied, slowly.
Miss Gladden threw one arm about her caressingly.
"If these were mere fancies why should they occur so persistently, and why should there be this sense of familiarity, of which you have spoken, with other and far different a.s.sociations than these, unless there is some distinct image hidden away in the recesses of your brain, which your mind is trying to recall?"
Lyle had grown very pale; she had caught the idea which Miss Gladden was trying to convey, and her form trembled, while her lips and delicate nostrils quivered with suppressed agitation.
"Leslie," she cried, "do you mean that you think it possible there is any reality in it,--that I have ever known a different life from this,--a life anything like that which seems to come back to me?"
"I think it not only possible, but probable," said her friend, drawing the trembling girl closer to herself, "and that is why I want you to encourage these impressions, and see if you will not, after a time, be able to recall the past more definitely."
"But why do you believe this?" questioned Lyle, "How did you ever think of it?"
"When you first told me of your fancies, as you called them, and of your dreams, constantly recurring since your earliest childhood, I felt that they must be produced by something that had really occurred, some time in the past, but perhaps so long ago that only the faintest impression was left upon your mind; but however faint, to me it seemed proof that the reality had existed. The more I have questioned you, the more I have become convinced of this, and I find I am not alone in my opinion."
"Have you talked with Jack, and does he think as you do?" Lyle questioned. Miss Gladden answered in the affirmative.
"Is that the reason he has asked me so often regarding my early life?"
"Yes, he has questioned you, hoping you might be able to recall something of those years which you say seem to you only a blank. We can only surmise regarding your early life, but if you could recall some slight incident, or some individual, it might prove whether our surmises were correct." Then, as Lyle remained silent, Miss Gladden continued:
"That face which you always see in your dreams, must be the face of some one you have really seen and known."
"Yes," Lyle answered dreamily, "I have often thought of that, and have tried to remember when, or where, it could have been."
For a few moments, both were silent; Lyle, in her abstraction, loosened her hair, and it fell around her like a veil of fine-spun gold. An idea suddenly occurred to Miss Gladden, and rising from her chair, she gathered up the golden ma.s.s, and began to rearrange and fasten it, Lyle scarcely heeding her action, so absorbed was she in thought.
When she had completed her work, she looked critically at Lyle for a moment, and seeming satisfied with the result, asked her to look in the gla.s.s. Half mechanically, Lyle did as requested, but at the first glance at the face reflected there, she uttered a low cry, and stood as if transfixed. Miss Gladden had arranged her hair in a style worn nearly twenty years before, and in imitation of the photograph which Jack had shown her. The effect was magical, as it showed Lyle"s face to be an exact counterpart of the beautiful pictured face.