"We"re all hoping you like San Juan, Miss Page. And you will, too, if the desert stillness doesn"t get on your nerves. But then silence isn"t such a bad thing after all, is it? Good night."
She understood his meaning and, though a thrill of excitement ran through her blood, answered laughingly:
"Shall a woman learn from the desert? Have I been such a chatter-box, Mrs. Engle, that I am to be admonished at the beginning to study to hold my tongue?"
Florence looked at her curiously, turned toward Norton, and then went with him to the door. For a moment their voices came in a murmur down the hallway; then Norton had gone and Florence returned slowly to the living-room.
Again Virginia looked out into the patio. Never a twig stirred now; all was as quiet as the sleeping fountain, as silent and mystery-filled as the desert itself. Had Roderick Norton seen more than she? Did he know who had been out there? Was here the beginning of some further sinister outgrowth of the lawlessness of Kid Rickard? of the animosity of Jim Galloway? Was she presently to see Norton himself slipping into the patio from the other side, was she again to hear the rattle of pistol-shots? He had asked that she say nothing; she had unhesitatingly given him her promise. Had she so unquestioningly done as he had requested because he was the sheriff who represented the law?
or because he was Roderick Norton who stood for fine, upstanding manhood? . . . Again she felt Florence Engle"s eyes fixed upon her.
"Florence is prepared at the beginning to dislike me," she thought.
"Why? Just because I walked with him from the hotel?"
In the heat of an argument with Mrs. Engle there came an interruption.
The banker"s wife was insisting that Virginia "do the only sensible thing in the world," that she accept a home under the Engle roof, occupying the room already made ready for her. Virginia, warmed by the cordial invitation, while deeply grateful, felt that she had no right to accept. She had come to San Juan to make her own way; she had no claim upon the hospitality of her kinswoman, certainly no such claim as was implied now. Besides, there was Elmer Page. Her brother was coming to join her to-morrow or the next day, and as soon as it could be arranged they would take a house all by themselves, or if that proved impossible, would have a suite at the hotel. At the moment when it seemed that a deadlock had come between Mrs. Engle"s eagerness to mother her cousin"s daughter and Virginia"s inborn sense of independence, the interruption came.
It arrived in the form of a boy of ten or twelve, a ragged, scantily clothed, swarthy youngster, rubbing a great toe against a bare leg while from the front door he announced that Ignacio Chavez was sick, that he had eaten something _muy malo_, that he had pains and that he prayed that the doctor cure him.
Patten grunted his disgust.
"Tell him to wait," he said briefly. And, in explanation to the others: "There"s nothing the matter with him. I saw him on the street just before I came. And wasn"t he ringing his bell not fifteen minutes ago?"
But the boy had not completed his message. Ignacio was sick and did not wish to die, and so had sent him to ask the Miss Lady Doctor to come to him. Virginia rose swiftly.
"You see," she said to Mrs. Engle, "what a nuisance it would be if I lived with you? May I come to see you to-morrow?"
While she said good night Engle got his hat.
"I"ll go with you," he said. "But, like Patten, I don"t believe there is much the matter with Chavez. Maybe he thinks he"ll get a free drink of whiskey."
"You see again," laughed Virginia from the doorway, "what it would be like, Mrs. Engle; if every time I had to make a call and Mr. Engle deemed it necessary to go with me . . . I"d have to split my fees with him at the very least! And I don"t believe that I could afford to do that."
"You could give me all that Ignacio pays you," chuckled Engle, "and never miss it!"
The boy waited for them and, when they came out into the starlight, flitted on ahead of them. At the cottonwoods a man stepped out to meet them.
"h.e.l.lo," said Engle, "it"s Norton."
"I sent the boy for Miss Page," said Norton quickly. "I had to have a word with her immediately. And I"m glad that you came, Engle. I want a favor of you; a mighty big favor of Miss Page."
The boy had pa.s.sed on through the shadows and now was to be seen on the street.
"I guess you know you can count on me, Rod," said Engle quietly. "What now?"
"I want you, when you go back to the house, to say that you have learned that Miss Page likes horseback riding; then send a horse for her to the hotel stable, so that if she likes she can have it in the early morning. And say nothing about my having sent the boy."
Engle did not answer immediately. He and Virginia stood trying to see the sheriff"s features through the darkness. He had spoken quietly enough and yet there was an odd new note in his voice; it was easy to imagine how the muscles about his lean jaw had tensed, how his eyes were again the hard eyes of a man who saw his fight before him.
"I can trust you, John," continued Norton quickly. "I can trust Ignacio Chavez; I can trust Julius Struve. And, if you want it in words of one syllable, I cannot trust Caleb Patten!"
"Hm," said Engle. "I think you"re mistaken there, my boy."
"Maybe," returned Norton. "But I can"t afford right now to take any unnecessary chances. Further," and in the gloom they saw his shoulders lifted in a shrug, "I am trusting Miss Page because I"ve got to! Which may not sound pretty, but which is the truth."
"Of course I"ll do what you ask," Engle said. "Is there anything else?"
"No. Just go on with Miss Page to see Ignacio. He will pretend to be doubled up with pain and will tell his story of the tinned meat he ate for supper. Then you can see her to the hotel and go back home, sending the horse over right away. Then she will ride with me to see a man who is hurt . . . or she will not, and I"ll have to take a chance on Patten."
"Who is it?" demanded Engle sharply.
"It"s Brocky Lane," returned Norton, and again his voice told of rigid muscles and hard eyes. "He"s hurt bad, John. And, if we"re to do him any good we"d better be about it."
Engle said nothing. But the slow, deep breath he drew into his lungs could not have been more eloquent of his emotion had it been expelled in a curse.
"I"ll slip around the back way to the hotel," said Norton. "I"ll be ready when Miss Page comes in. Good night, John."
Silently, without awaiting promise or protest from the girl, he was gone into the deeper shadows of the cottonwoods.
CHAPTER VI
A RIDE THROUGH THE NIGHT
Ignacio Chavez, because thus he could be of service to _el senor_ Roderico Nortone whom he admired vastly and loved like a brother, drew to the dregs upon his fine Latin talent, doubled up and otherwise contorted and twisted his lithe body until the sweat stood out upon his forehead. His groans would have done ample justice to the occasion had he been dying.
Virginia treated him sparingly to a harmless potion she had secured at her room on the way, put the bottle into the hands of Ignacio"s withered and anxious old mother, informed the half dozen Indian onlookers that she had arrived in time and that the bell-ringer would live, and then was impatient to go with Engle to Struve"s hotel. Here Engle left her to return to his home and to send the saddle-horse he had promised Norton.
"You can ride, can"t you, Virginia?" he had asked.
"Yes," she a.s.sured him.
"Then I"ll send Persis around; she"s the prettiest thing in horseflesh you ever saw. And the gamest. And, Virginia . . ."
He hesitated. "Well?" she asked.
"There"s not a squarer, whiter man in the world than Rod Norton," he said emphatically. "Now good night and good luck, and be sure to drop in on us to-morrow."
She watched him as he went swiftly down the street; then she turned into the hotel and down the hall, which echoed to the click of her heels, and to her room. She had barely had time to change for her ride and to glance at her "war bag" when a discreet knock sounded at her door. Going to the door she found that it was Julius Struve instead of Norton.
"You are to come with me," said the hotel keeper softly. "He is waiting with the horses."
They pa.s.sed through the dark dining-room, into the pitch black kitchen and out at the rear of the house. A moment Struve paused, listening.
Then, touching her sleeve, he hurried away into the night, going toward the black line of cottonwoods, the girl keeping close to his heels.
At the dry arroyo Norton was waiting, holding two saddled horses.
Without a word he gave her his hand, saw her mounted, surrendered Persis"s jerking reins into her gauntletted grip and swung up to the back of his own horse. In another moment, and still in silence, Virginia and Norton were riding away from San Juan, keeping in the shadows of the trees, headed toward the mountains in the north.