understand?' The cold, cutting tone and the plain threat brought Fagan to his senses. With a nod of comprehension, he pushed his glass away and stumbled out of the bar. He could not afford to quarrel with Paul Lesurge--yet, but deep in his mean little soul he hated this man so superior to himself, who never neglected an opportunity to vent upon him his vitriolic spleen.
With a sneering smile of satisfaction, Lesurge moved along the bar to where the two cowboys were standing.
'Oh, Mason, I want to thank you for assisting Miss Ducaneon the journey here,' he began easily. 'What actually happened?' The cowboy gazed at him with steady but hostile eyes; he did not like this well-dressed, good- looking stranger who had spirited his travelling companion away, and he resented the patronizing air.
'Yu'd better ask the fella who's just gone out,' he replied. 'Claims he's a. friend o' yores.'
'I have employed him at times, but a friend, hardly,' Paul explained. 'As regards Miss Ducane, I do not think he will offend again. I--mentioned it.'
'I had a word with him my own self,' Mason said grimly. 'Yu don't happen to be the uncle Miss Ducane come in search of, do yu?' The two-edged implication that he was either an old man or an interfering busybody brought a flush of anger even to the adventurer's impassive face, but he masked his emotion and replied coolly:
'I happen to know him, and I shall have the pleasure of bringing them together to-morrow morning.' He reaped his revenge in full when he saw the crestfallen look on the boy's face; Lesurge had done what he had been hoping to do and the girl would no longer have any need of his help or protection.
'That let's you out,' the other went on. 'With her uncle and myself, the little lady will be well looked after.' Having thus twisted the knife in the wound he strolled away. Mason looked at his companion.
'Jim,' he said. 'Did yu ever wanta take a fella by the throat an' slowly squeeze the life out'n him?'
'Mustn't let angry li'l tempers rise, of timer; it's a serious matter to take a human life.'
'Who was talking o' that?' Mason retorted.
The other's eyes twinkled. 'I gotta admit he does look awful like a skunk,' he said.
Chapter III
Wayside had a shock on the following morning when it saw Paul Lesurge, accompanied by the man it knew as Snowy, enter the hotel. But it was not the Snowy they were familiar with; this one had hair and beard trimmed to respectable proportions, and his shirt was clean. The girl, forewarned, was awaiting them in the little parlour. She rose as the two men entered. Lesurge effected a simple introduction:
'Miss Ducane, this is your father's brother, Philip.' For some moments they studied each other in silence, this slim, grave-eyed girl and the white-haired, wizened old man. It was the latter who spoke first.
'So you are George's little lass, eh?' he said, and the high-pitched voice was gentle. 'You favour yore mother.' Her face lighted up. 'You knew her, sir?' she asked eagerly.
Snowy nodded. 'She was a bonny gal--I never seen a purtier --till now,' he added, with a little smile. 'Must be twenty-five year ago--las' time I went East. I wanted George to jine me, but he'd just married an' bought that land at Dent's Crossing. Allus the plodder, George; I was the rollin' stone.' Her eyes were moist. 'And when he would have come ...'
'Paul told me,' Snowy said sadly. 'Pore of Squint--I expect they still called him that?'
'Yes, but he didn't mind.'
'Got used to it, I reckon; but when I christened him that at school he gave me a fine hidin'. But he thought a lot o' me, George did, an' even when I near knocked his left eye out with a hoe he told Dad he fell off'n a fence to save me. Why didn't he answer my letter?'
'But he did,' she protested. 'A few weeks before he--died, he wrote saying he was selling the farm and coming to join you here.' Snowy shook his head. 'Guess it got lost, mails bein' as uncertain as females in these parts.' He chuckled at his little joke. Unnoticed by the girl, Lesurge had tapped his own forehead. 'Or mebbe I disremembered,' he went on. 'You see, my dear, some years back I had a bad sickness an' since then my memory plays me pranks. Times I even forget--' a warning shake of the head from the other man pulled him up--'my own name. I'm 'mowed here as Snowy, 'count o' my white hair. Some folks figure I'm loco, but you know that ain't so, don't you, Paul?'
'Of course, Phil,' Lesurge smiled. 'It's just jealousy, because you have seen so much more of the world.' In an undertone to the girl, he added, 'He's a bit eccentric, especially when his memory fails, and the ignorant settlers here have but one explanation for that, but he's quite harmless.'
'I'm sure of it,' Mary said warmly. 'I must try and make up to him for all he has suffered. I can never be sufficientlygrateful to you for discovering my uncle; it solves all my difficulties, and I might never have found him.' The feeling in her low sweet voice stirred the man's cold pulses and brought an eager gleam into his dark eyes.
'It will always be a pleasure to serve you,' he replied. 'I am taking Phil away now, but we'll meet again this afternoon and discuss plans.' Outside the hotel the old man glanced at his companion and slyly asked, 'How'd I do it?'
'Wonderfully,' Lesurge told him, and meant it. 'A fine actor was lost in you, Snowy.'
'Ah, I got brains, I has,' came the complacent answer. 'You reckon she swallowed it?'
'Hook, line and sinker,' Paul assured him. 'How do you know she resembles her mother?' o 'I don't,' Snowy smirked, 'but most gals like to think so.' At the Pioneer the prospector found himself a popular person. Not only was he the uncle of the most charming visitor Wayside had ever received but he owned a fabulously rich gold-mine; Fagan had talked to some purpose. Never in Snowy's sinful life had so much free whisky been offered to him and he was preparing to enjoy himself thoroughly when Lesurge intervened; a liquor-loosened tongue might well wreck his plans.
'No more now, Phil,' he said firmly. 'You have business to talk over with Mary presently.' Two of the company watched him follow Lesurge out of the saloon with unbelieving eyes.
'That of skeezicks her uncle?' Mason ejaculated contemptuously. 'The whale what found a home for Jonah couldn't 'a' swallowed that.'
'I'm allowin' Jonah must 'a' looked more appetizin',' Sudden said soberly. 'O' course, Snowy might be the fella, but how did Mister Lesurge get wise an' what's his game? was he waitin' here for the girl, an' where's the real uncle? Also who wiped out her daddy?' His friend looked at him in mock disgust. 'Can't yu think o' no more questions?'
'Shore, there's another,' Sudden grinned. 'What are we goin' to do about it?' Mason spun round, his face alight. 'Jim, did yu mean that `we'?' he asked.
'Why, I got nothin' to interest me about now,' was the careless reply, 'an' they tell me gold-minn' is a lazy way o' gettin' a livin'.'
'I wish I knowed if she really believes in this scarecrow relative,' Gerry reflected.
'Go an' ask her,' Sudden suggested. 'She don't look like she'd savage yu, though yu can't tell; women is same as hosses--the meekest-appearin' is sometimes the one to pile yu '
'Miss Ducane would never say a harsh word to anyone,' Gerry reproved, and departed in search of this paragon.
Greatly to his relief he did not have to ask for her--she tripped out of the hotel just as he arrived. She was pleased to see this boy who had been chivalrous and attentive to her, and she said so, but when he bluntly asked whether she was satisfied that Snowy was indeed the uncle she had come to find, her smile vanished and a look of dignified surprise took its place.
'Have you any right to put such a question?' she inquired, and when he could find no answer, 'What object could Mister Lesurge and that harmless old man have in deceiving a girl who has nothing?' Mason could have replied that she had herself, but his courage would not carry him so far, and as he did not know the whole story of her pilgrimage could only mutter doubts about 'that other fella.'
'Mister Lesurge has been exceedingly good,' she said severely. 'He is a gentleman.'
'Looks to me more like a tin-horn gambler,' the boy burst out angrily.
Her eyes grew stormy. 'How dare you say such an outrageous thing?' she cried. 'I am afraid I have misjudged you. When I heard you had been engaged in a brawl yesterday I was willing to believe it was not your fault, but I fear you must be of a quarrelsome nature.' He could have told her that the trouble was on her account, but he had his pride, and remained silent. One not vitally concerned might have smiled at her rather prim seriousness, so out of keeping with her budding beauty, but to Gerry Mason it was the end of a dream and it made
