Desert Conquest by A. M. Chisholm (top e book reader .TXT) 📖
- Author: A. M. Chisholm
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Simon obeyed, but he drew a letter from his pocket.
"Papah," said he. "Casey."
McHale read Casey's warning as to Dade, and whistled softly, passing the letter to Sandy.
"So this here Dade makes it a feud, does he?" he said meditatively. "All right, he can have it that way. Same time, I'm goin' to keep out of trouble long as I can. I'll stay cached mighty close, and I'll run like blazes before I'll fight. Simon, how'd you find this camp?"
"Find um easy," said Simon scornfully. He pointed to the carcass of the deer. "S'pose you mamook cook um."
CHAPTER XXVII
In the morning Sheila awoke stiff and sore, but rested. Her strong young body, hard and well conditioned by a life in the open and much healthy exercise, refused to indulge in the luxury of after effects of shock. Looking around, she found that her clothes were gone. But spread ready for her was a dainty morning costume, which she knew for Clyde Burnaby's. Dressing quickly, she entered the breakfast room.
Clyde, sitting by the window, rose, smiling, as she entered.
"I hope they fit," she said. "How do you feel, Miss McCrae?"
"They fit very well, and I feel first rate," said Sheila. "I'm sore in spots, but I'll limber up when I get moving. Where is Mrs. Wade? I suppose Casey has gone to Talapus."
"Kitty's busy cleaning your riding clothes," Clyde replied. "Casey has gone; I haven't seen him."
It was the first time she had used his given name to a third person. It slipped out naturally, and she coloured a trifle, but Sheila did not appear to notice. They breakfasted together, and later sat on the veranda enjoying the perfect morning after the storm. Naturally, they spoke of the events of the preceding day and night. Sheila took a practical view.
"It was lucky Tom McHale wasn't here," she said. "Somebody would have been hurt. That's what I was afraid of."
"It was very brave of you," said Clyde. "I admire you more than I can say. I want you to know it, Miss McCrae."
"Oh, that"—Sheila dismissed the warm praise with a wave of her brown hand—"why, it wasn't anything; only a wet ride in the dark. If my horse had kept his feet it would have been all right. I simply had to come. Don't try to make me think myself a heroine. You'd do the same thing yourself for a friend."
"I'm afraid I couldn't. I'm not much of a rider, and I couldn't have found my way in the dark."
"Well, that's no credit to me. I've been riding all my life, and I know every foot of this country. Of course, I'd do anything for Casey or Tom."
"Yes," said Clyde, "they both think a great deal of you, I know."
"No more than I think of them—especially Casey. Some day I suppose he'll get married, and then I'll have to call him 'Mr. Dunne.'"
"That won't be necessary."
"Oh, yes, it will. His wife wouldn't stand for 'Casey.'"
"Yes, she will," said Clyde. Sheila turned and looked at her keenly. "We are going to be married," Clyde added.
"You don't mean it!" Sheila exclaimed. "Well, you are a lucky girl, if you don't mind my saying so. Casey's white. I congratulate you with all my heart. And he's lucky, too; yes, he is."
"You—you don't mind?" Clyde ventured. She thought it quite possible that Sheila might care for Casey, although convinced that he did not love her.
"Mind? Why should I mind?"
"You know I thought once"—Clyde hesitated—"you see you were such great friends——"
"You thought I might be fond of him? Why, so I am. Not in that way, though. I might have been if he had tried to make love to me, but he never did. You see, Miss Burnaby——"
"I wish you'd call me Clyde."
"If you'll call me Sheila. You see, Clyde, Casey and I are too much two of a kind. We'd never get on. You'll idealize him; I'd call him down. He'll talk out of his heart to you; he'd talk irrigation, and crops, and horses to me. You'll accept his judgment in most things as final; I'd want him to take my opinion instead of his own. Oh, we'd make an awful mess of it! And so, my dear, don't you think that I'd want his love, even if I could get it. But at that he's the whitest man I know, and the best friend I ever had. You're lucky. I don't wonder that he fell in love with you, either. I wish to goodness I were as pretty."
"I'm glad," said Clyde, "that you haven't said anything about money. Thank you."
"It's not because I didn't think of it," Sheila admitted frankly. "But I know it makes no difference to Casey. Fact is, I wonder, knowing him as I do, that he hadn't some absurd scruples on that point."
"He had. He says we can't be married if he loses this ranch and the other lands."
"Nonsense," said Sheila practically. "He won't stay with that if you coax him; he couldn't."
Clyde laughed happily. "That's the nicest compliment I ever had. You're absolutely the first person I've told."
"Well, I'm much flattered," said Sheila. "When did it happen?"
"Last night."
"Everything happened last night. Was he—er—convincing in the part?"
But Clyde, laughing and blushing, refused details. Sheila wished to go home at once, but Clyde prevailed on her to wait for Casey. It was his wish.
"And that settles it from your point of view, of course," said Sheila. "Well, I'll wait."
Casey returned at noon. Clyde met him halfway between the stable and the house, bareheaded, the fresh wind fluttering her skirts and spinning little tendrils of coppery gold across her forehead. He would have taken both her hands, but she put them behind her, laughing.
"Not here, sir!"
"It's my ranch and my girl."
"In order of merit?"
"My girl and my ranch, then. But tell me: How is Sheila?"
"Quite well, except for her bruises. What a plucky girl she is, Casey!"
"I should say she is," he agreed heartily. "You must be friends. Somehow you never seemed to like her."
"I understand her better now. I've told her about—us."
"Fine! And Kitty Wade?"
"Yes. Come in and face the music yourself."
But Casey got off lightly. They lunched without Wade, who had gone to town for mail; but as they were finishing the meal he entered.
"Casey," he cried, "I hope to Heaven I haven't foundered your horse, but I have all kinds of news for you!"
Casey's mouth tightened a little. "Let it go, Wade. Maybe it's all for the best."
"Part of this is, anyway. Don't look so glum; it's all right, I tell you. Now, this was the way of it: When I got my papers at the post office I saw that Western Air stock, which had been playing antics before, had gone clean crazy. It's been boosted sky high. All sorts of rumours, the chief being that the Hess System people were responsible. So I wired for the latest. Got a reply that it was impossible to confirm rumours. Then, just as I was leaving, in comes a wire for Clyde which I herewith produce and put in as Exhibit A, and which, I strongly suspect, throws light on the situation. Open it, Clyde, for Heaven's sake, and put us out of our misery!"
Clyde tore the envelope with fingers which trembled slightly. She read the message and handed it to Casey.
"Aloud?" he asked, and she nodded. He read:
Sending you power of attorney and proxy to vote shares recently purchased by your brokers. We now control corporation. Advise friends to drop lawsuit. They will get a square deal.
Jim.
Casey looked up. He did not understand. Wade struck him a violent blow on the back.
"Hooray!" he shouted. "It's blamed unprofessional, but I was never so glad to discontinue an action in my life. Clyde, you're a darling!" He caught her in his arms and whirled her around the room.
"Harrison!" Kitty cried, "have you gone crazy?"
Wade released Clyde, breathless, and sank into a chair.
"Bring me an expensive drink!" he commanded. "This needs celebrating."
"Will somebody tell me what's the matter with him?" Casey asked.
"What!" exclaimed the lawyer. "Don't you see it?"
"Not yet," Casey admitted.
"Why, you old dub," cried Wade, "the wire is from Jim Hess, Clyde's uncle. His interests control Western Air. He promises you a square deal."
"Eh!" Casey ejaculated, staring at him.
"You blamed idiot!" snapped the lawyer, "why don't you thank Clyde? She started the old chief on the warpath after York's scalp."
Casey turned to her. "Tell me he isn't raving mad! Is it so?"
"It's so," she said, "but I——" He interrupted by catching her in his arms.
"Here, hold on, old man!" Wade protested. "Gratitude's a fine thing, but you're too——"
His wife took him by the arm. "Come on, Harrison, you stupid! You're worse than he is. Can't you understand anything?" Sheila's skirts were already fluttering through the door.
"Great Scott!" Wade exclaimed, "you don't mean——"
"You—you bonehead!" she cried, exasperated, and hustled him outside.
Careless of them, Casey held Clyde, looking down into her eyes. "Sweetheart," he said, "you never told me!"
"I was afraid."
"Of raising false hopes?"
"Not that, so much. But you wouldn't let me help you with money. And I was afraid that if you knew, you'd consider yourself under an obligation and wouldn't—wouldn't——"
"Wouldn't what?"
"Wouldn't be sensible and tell me you loved me," she said softly. "You're so funny about such things, Casey. You aren't angry now, are you?"
"Angry?" he said. "Dear, I'd put the savings of years into this land—years when I'd worked like a very slave to get enough cash together to swing some good deal when I should see it. That was my stake. And the others! Why, girl, you've saved Talapus to the McCraes, and their ranches for the men who made them. We can't repay you; we won't try."
CHAPTER XXVIII
"Excuse me," said Wade, who had anticipated his entrance by many preliminary noises, "excuse me, my dear young friends, and, incidentally, accept my sincerest congratulations, felicitations, and—er—jubilations. Kindly listen to the following observations. Ahem! Far be it from me to horn in where I am as welcome as a wet dog. Nothing is farther from my desire than to short circuit two hearts——"
"Come right in, old man," said Casey. "What's the trouble?"
"I want my dinner," said Wade plaintively. "I Paul Revered on a shoestring. I Sheridaned without a commissariat. I brought the good news to Ghent on an empty tummy. Is thy servant a dog, that he should eat with a Chinaman? And I'd do that willingly; but, Casey, you know as well as I do that the only thing fit to drink Clyde's health in is in this room, and I warn you that if there is much more delay in doing so nothing which may occur hereafter will be either lucky or legal. While it is possibly true that a dinner of herbs where love is has a porterhouse, rare, and hashed brown spuds backed clean off the board, I submit, not being in love myself——"
"What's that?" cried Kitty Wade from the door.
"Why, it's a shame!" said Clyde. "He must be starving. It's all Casey's fault, too."
"Wouldn't he break away?" asked Wade. "I remember——?"
"Harrison!" cried Kitty, warningly.
"Well, then, do I eat?" he demanded.
"Yes. Anything to keep you quiet. I'll get your dinner myself."
Half an hour later Wade pushed back his chair with a sigh of satisfaction, lit a cigar, and joined the others.
"I feel better," he announced. "A child could play with me in comparative safety. Now let me tell you what else I discovered. In the first place, Cross is dead. I was talking to Shiller. He says that Tom wasn't to blame—corroborates his story, in fact, in every material particular. So Tom's all right on that score. My advice to him would be to come in and have his trial over."
"That isn't what's bothering him so much. It's these friends of Cross's. I don't blame him. Some sheriffs are mighty weak-kneed about such things."
"Well, I'm told that officers will be after him. Now as
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