'I guess–I'm pretty sick,' he said.
He saw Belding lean over him, feel his face, and speak, and then everything seemed to drift, not into darkness, but into some region where he had dim perceptions of gray moving things, and of voices that were remote. Then there came an interval when all was blank. He knew not whether it was one of minutes or hours, but after it he had a clearer mind. He slept, awakened during night-time, and slept again. When he again unclosed his eyes the room was sunny, and cool with a fragrant breeze that blew through the open door. Dick felt better; but he had no particular desire to move or talk or eat. He had, however, a burning thirst. Mrs. Belding visited him often; her husband came in several times, and once Nell slipped in noiselessly. Even this last event aroused no interest in Dick.
On the next day he was very much improved.
'We've been afraid of blood poisoning,' said Belding. 'But my wife thinks the danger's past. You'll have to rest that arm for a while.'
Ladd and Jim came peeping in at the door.
'Come in, boys. He can have company–the more the better–if it'll keep him content. He mustn't move, that's all.'
The cowboys entered, slow, easy, cool, kind-voiced.
'Shore it's tough,' said Ladd, after he had greeted Dick. 'You look used up.'
Jim Lash wagged his half-bald, sunburned head, 'Musta been more'n tough for Rojas.'
'Gale, Laddy tells me one of our neighbors, fellow named Carter, is going to Casita,' put in Belding. 'Here's a chance to get word to your friend the soldier.'
'Oh, that will be fine!' exclaimed Dick. 'I declare I'd forgotten Thorne....How is Miss Castaneda? I hope–'
'She's all right, Gale. Been up and around the patio for two days. Like all the Spanish–the real thing–she's made of Damascus steel. We've been getting acquainted. She and Nell made friends at once. I'll call them in.'
He closed the door leading out into the yard, explaining that he did not want to take chances of Mercedes's presence becoming known to neighbors. Then he went to the patio and called.
Both girls came in, Mercedes leading. Like Nell, she wore white, and she had a red rose in her hand. Dick would scarcely have recognized anything about her except her eyes and the way she carried her little head, and her beauty burst upon him strange and anew. She was swift, impulsive in her movements to reach his side.
'Senor, I am so sorry you were ill–so happy you are better.'
Dick greeted her, offering his left hand, gravely apologizing for the fact that, owing to a late infirmity, he could not offer the right. Her smile exquisitely combined sympathy, gratitude, admiration. Then Dick spoke to Nell, likewise offering his hand, which she took shyly. Her reply was a murmured, unintelligible one; but her eyes were glad, and the tine in her cheeks threatened to rival the hue of the rose she carried.
Everybody chatted then, except Nell, who had apparently lost her voice. Presently Dick remembered to speak of the matter of getting news to Thorne.
'Senor, may I write to him? Will some one take a letter?...I shall hear from him!' she said; and her white hands emphasized her words.
'Assuredly. I guess poor Thorne is almost crazy. I'll write to him....No, I can't with this crippled hand.'
'That'll be all right, Gale,' said Belding. 'Nell will write for you. She writes all my letters.'
So Belding arranged it; and Mercedes flew away to her room to write, while Nell fetched pen and paper and seated herself beside Gale's bed to take his dictation.
What with watching Nell and trying to catch her glance, and listening to Belding's talk with the cowboys, Dick was hard put to it to dictate any kind of a creditable letter. Nell met his gaze once, then no more. The color came and went in her cheeks, and sometimes, when he told her to write so and so, there was a demure smile on her lips. She was laughing at him. And Belding was talking over the risks involved in a trip to Casita.
'Shore I'll ride in with the letters,' Ladd said.
'No you won't,' replied Belding. 'That bandit outfit will be laying for you.'
'Well, I reckon if they was I wouldn't be oncommon grieved.'
'I'll tell you, boys, I'll ride in myself with Carter. There's business I can see to, and I'm curious to know what the rebels are doing. Laddy, keep one eye open while I'm gone. See the horses are locked up....Gale, I'm going to Casita myself. Ought to get back tomorrow some time. I'll be ready to start in an hour. Have your letter ready. And say–if you want to write home it's a chance. Sometimes we don't go to the P. O. in a month.
He tramped out, followed by the tall cowboys, and then Dick was enabled to bring his letter to a close. Mercedes came back, and her eyes were shining. Dick imagined a letter received from her would be something of an event for a fellow. Then, remembering Belding's suggestion, he decided to profit by it.
'May I trouble you to write antoher for me?' asked Dick, as he received the letter from Nell.
'It's no trouble, I'm sure–I'd be pleased,' she replied.
That was altogether a wonderful speech of hers, Dick thought, because the words were the first coherent ones she had spoken to him.
'May I stay?' asked Mercedes, smiling.
'By all means,' he answered, and then he settled back and began.
Presently Gale paused, partly because of genuine emotion, and stole a look from under his hand at Nell. She wrote swiftly, and her downcast face seemed to be softer in its expression of sweetness. If she had in the very least been drawn to him– But that was absurd–impossible!
