When five days passed with no ^w from Augustus McCrae or the two men who had been sent to find him, Governor Clark waxed so indignant that he was hot to the touch. Call, impatient himself, thought the Governor's indignation unwarranted. The rangers had no urgent mission at the moment, in light of which Augustus's absence did not seem exceptional. Governor Clark himself was a hunter, often gone from Austin for a week at a time killing deer, antelope, or wild pig. Call began to find the Governor's complaints irksome, and said so to Maggie one evening over a beefsteak which she had been kind enough to cook him. The boy, Newt, had scampered downstairs on his arrival and was blowing his whistle at some chickens who belonged to the lady next door.
'I expect Gus is just grieving,' Maggie said. 'If I ever had a husband and he died, I'd want to go off someplace to do my grieving.
It wouldn't be fair to Newt to do too much moping at home.' 'Being a ranger's getting to be like being a policeman,' Call said. 'Nowadays they want you on call all the time.' He noticed that Maggie's arms were freckled to the elbows. Probably she had spent a little too much time in the sun, working the little garden plot she had planted with Jake Spoon's help. In the warm months Maggie was never without vegetables.
It was a fine thing, in Call's view, that Maggie had gained respectable employment at last. He had been in the store one day while Maggie was writing up an inventory and was surprised to see that her penmanship was excellent.
'Why, you write a hand as fine as Jake's,' he said. 'They'll be asking you to teach school next. I doubt there's a teacher in town who writes that pretty.' 'Oh, it just takes practice,' Maggie said. 'Jake lent me his penmanship book and showed me how to do some of the curls.' As Call was finishing his beefsteak he noticed Jake's penmanship book on a table by Maggie's bed; then he noticed a bandanna that he thought was Jake's hanging over the bedpost at the foot of Maggie's bed.
He had known, of course, that Jake and Maggie had a friendship; the two of them were often seen working in the garden. Jake's skills as a gardener were such that a number of local women pestered him for his secrets or showed up to watch when he was working in the garden. Jake basked in the attention of all the local ladies--Call had no doubt that many of them would have envied Maggie her penmanship lessons.
'Why, Jake's left his bandanna on the bedpost,' Call said, as Maggie was taking his plate to the wash bucket.
'Yes, he left it,' Maggie said. At that point young Newt burst in, crying and holding up an injured hand; in his pursuit of the chickens he had wandered too close to old Dan, the turkey, and had been soundly pecked.
'That ain't the first time Dan's pecked you--why won't you avoid that turkey?' Maggie said.
'Go down to the mud puddle and daub a little mud on that peck--it'll soothe it.' When Newt went down Maggie excused herself for a moment and went with him--she wanted to run the old turkey off before it did damage to her garden.
While Maggie was gone Call looked around the room. A pair of Jake's spurs were on the floor by the little sofa and his shaving brush and razor were by the wash basin.
Call knew it was none of his business where Jake kept his razor, or his spurs, or his bandanna, and yet the sight of so many of Jake's things in Maggie's room disturbed him in a way he had not expected. When she came back he thanked her for the beefsteak, gave Newt a penny for some sassafras candy--newt was a well-bbhaved little boy who deserved an occasional treat--and left.
Call got his rifle and started to take a short walk down by the river. He had been twice to the Governor that day and had spent the afternoon going over the company accounts with Jake, a task that always tired him. He didn't intend to walk long.
As he came out of the bunkhouse he saw Jake Spoon leave a saloon across the street and angle off toward Maggie's rooms.
Ordinarily he would have thought nothing of it, but that night he did think of it. He didn't wait to see if Jake went up the stairs to the room he himself had just left; he felt that would be unseemly. Instead, he walked out of town, disquieted without quite knowing why. He realized he had no right to boss Maggie Tilton at all. She had her employment and could do as she pleased.
The thought that disturbed him--right or no right--was that Jake and Maggie were now living together. That notion startled him greatly. Maggie was a respectable woman now, with a child who was well liked. She needed to be thinking of her work and her child and not risk her respectability for any reason --certainly not for the irresponsible Jake Spoon.
Call walked out of Austin on the wagon road that led to San Antonio. He wished Gus were back, not because the Governor wanted him back but so he could ask his opinion about the matter of Maggie and Jake. Of course, he knew nothing definite--all he knew was that what he was feeling left him too agitated for sleep.
In what seemed like a matter of minutes Call was surprised to see, at a curve in the wagon road, a big live oak tree that had been split by lightning some years before. The reason for his surprise was that the live oak was ten miles from town. In his confusion he had walked much farther than he had meant to--usually he only strolled two or three miles and went to bed. But he had walked ten miles without noticing, and would have to walk another ten to get back to the bunkhouse.
The walk back went slower--it was almost dawn when he got back to the bunkhouse. Across the way, Maggie's window was dark. Was Jake sleeping there? And what if he was? He had long since put the whole question of Maggie and men out of his mind. Now, suddenly, it was very much in his mind, and yet he had no one to discuss the matter withand was far from knowing even what he felt himself.
Old Ikey Ripple, retired now except for ceremonial appearances, was sitting on a nail keg rubbing his white hair when Call walked up, in the first light.
'Hello, you're up early,' Call said, to the old man. Ikey, of course, was always up early.
'Yep, I don't like to miss none of the day,' Ikey said.
Ikey was a snuff dipper; he had already worked his lip over a good wad of snuff.
'Where have you been, Captain?' he asked.
'It's too early for patrol.' 'Just looking around,' Call said. 'Someone saw three Indians west of town yesterday. I don't want them slipping in and running off any stock.' 'Will you be going off to the war, Captain?' Ikey asked.
Call shook his head, which seemed to reassure the old man.
