PAGE 11
The Winning Of The Biscuit-Shooter
by
Tommy rose in disgust and sped after the animal.
“I must be cooking supper now,” said Katie, shortly.
“I’ll stir for yu’,” said Lin, grinning at her.
“Come along then,” said she; and they departed to the adjacent kitchen.
Miss Wood’s gray eyes brightened with mischief. She looked at her Virginian, and she looked at me.
“Do you know,” she said, “I used to be so afraid that when Bear Creek wasn’t new any more it might become dull!”
“Miss Peck doesn’t find it dull either,” said I.
Molly Wood immediately assumed a look of doubt. “But mightn’t it become just–just a little trying to have two gentlemen so very–determined, you know?”
“Only one is determined,” said the Virginian
Molly looked inquiring.
“Lin is determined Tommy shall not beat him. That’s all it amounts to.”
“Dear me, what a notion!”
“No, ma’am, no notion. Tommy–well, Tommy is considered harmless, ma’am. A cow-puncher of reputation in this country would cert’nly never let Tommy get ahaid of him that way.”
“It’s pleasant to know sometimes how much we count!” exclaimed Molly.
“Why, ma’am,” said the Virginian, surprised at her flash of indignation, “where is any countin’ without some love?”
“Do you mean to say that Mr. McLean does not care for Miss Peck?”
“I reckon he thinks he does. But there is a mighty wide difference between thinkin’ and feelin’, ma’am.”
I saw Molly’s eyes drop from his, and I saw the rose deepen in her cheeks. But just then a loud voice came from the kitchen.
“You, Lin, if you try any of your foolin’ with me, I’ll histe yu’s over the jiste!”
“All cow-punchers–” I attempted to resume.
“Quit now, Lin McLean,” shouted the voice, “or I’ll put yus through that window, and it shut.”
“Well, Miss Peck, I’m gettin’ most a full dose o’ this treatment. Ever since yu’ come I’ve been doing my best. And yu’ just cough in my face. And now I’m going to quit and cough back.”
“Would you enjoy walkin’ out till supper, ma’am?” inquired the Virginian as Molly rose. “You was speaking of gathering some flowers yondeh.”
“Why, yes,” said Molly, blithely. “And you’ll come?” she added to me.
But I was on the Virginian’s side. “I must look after my horse,” said I, and went down to the corral.
Day was slowly going as I took my pony to the water. Corncliff Mesa, Crowheart Butte, these shone in the rays that came through the canyon. The canyon’s sides lifted like tawny castles in the same light. Where I walked the odor of thousands of wild roses hung over the margin where the thickets grew. High in the upper air, magpies were sailing across the silent blue. Somewhere I could hear Tommy explaining loudly how he and General Crook had pumped lead into hundreds of Indians; and when supper-time brought us all back to the door he was finishing the account to Mrs. Taylor. Molly and the Virginian arrived bearing flowers, and he was saying that few cow-punchers had any reason for saving their money.
“But when you get old?” said she.
“We mostly don’t live long enough to get old, ma’am,” said he, simply. “But I have a reason, and I am saving.”
“Give me the flowers,” said Molly. And she left him to arrange them on the table as Lin came hurrying out.
“I’ve told her,” said he to the Southerner and me, “that I’ve asked her twiced, and I’m going to let her have one more chance. And I’ve told her that if it’s a log cabin she’s marryin’, why Tommy is a sure good wooden piece of furniture to put inside it. And I guess she knows there’s not much wooden furniture about me. I want to speak to you.” He took the Virginian round the corner. But though he would not confide in me, I began to discern something quite definite at supper.
“Cattle men will lose stock if the Crows get down as far as this,” he said, casually, and Mrs. Taylor suppressed a titter.
“Ain’t it hawses the’re repawted as running off?” said the Virginian.