The "Wild West" Collection. William MacLeod Raine
stay right here."
He urged his horse forward and went to meet Nevil. The girl was very anxious, hardly knowing why. She heard Seth's voice low but commanding. His words were lost upon her, but their effect was plain enough. Nevil first smiled contemptuously, then he paled and finally turned his horse about, and slowly returned the way he had come.
Then, and not until then, Rosebud observed that Seth was grasping the butt of his revolver.
CHAPTER XXIV
ROSEBUD'S FORTUNE
Something of the old spirit seemed to have gone out of Rosebud when Seth rode back to her. A strange fascination held her; and now, as he came up, she had no thought of questioning him, no desire. She was ready to obey. She watched the emaciated figure as it drew near with eyes that told a story which only he could have misinterpreted. She was ready for a scolding, a scolding which she felt she merited. But Seth made no attempt to blame her. And this very fact made her wish that he would.
"Say, Rosie, gal, I guess we'll be gettin' back," he said, in a manner which suggested that they had been out together merely, and that it was time for returning.
"Yes, Seth."
There was unusual humility in the reply. It may have been that the girl remembered that scene in the woods so many months ago. Perhaps the scene she had just witnessed had told her something that no explanations could have made so clear. Seth was always the dominating factor in their intercourse, but this outward submission was quite foreign to the girl.
They rode off together, the man's horse leading slightly. Neither spoke for a while, but Rosebud noticed that almost imperceptibly they had branched off and were heading for the bridge by unfrequented by-paths which frequently demanded their riding in Indian-file.
Seth displayed no haste and no inclination to talk, and the silence soon began to jar on the girl. It was one thing for her to give ready obedience, but to be led like some culprit marching to execution was something which roused her out of her docility. At the first opportunity she ranged her horse alongside her companion's and asserted her presence.
"I want you to answer me a question, Seth," she said quietly. "How did you get wounded?"
The man's face never relaxed a muscle, but there was a dryness in the tone of his reply.
"Guess some bussock of a feller got monkeyin' with a gun an' didn't know a heap."
Rosebud favored him with a little knowing smile. They were still amidst the broken woodlands, and she was quick to observe her companion's swift-moving eyes as they flashed this way and that in their ceaseless watchfulness.
"I'm not to be cheated. Some one shot at you who meant--business."
"Guess I ain't aware jest how he figgered, Rosie." A smile accompanied Seth's words this time.
"Well, who did it?"
"I never seen him; so I can't rightly say."
"But you guess?"
"I ain't good at guessin'."
The girl laughed.
"Very well, I won't bother you."
Then after a little silence the man spoke again.
"Those letters of yours was mortal fine," he said. "Seems to me I could most find my way around London, with its stores an' nigglin' trails. It's a tol'ble city. A mighty good eddication, travelin'."
"I suppose it is." Rosebud seemed to have lost her desire for conversation.
"Makes you think some," Seth went on, heedless of the girl's abstraction. "Makes you feel as the sun don't jest rise and set on your own p'tickler patch o' ploughin'. Makes you feel you're kind o' like a grain o' wheat at seedin' time. I allow a man don't amount to a heap noways."
Rosebud turned on him with a bright smile in her wonderful eyes.
"That depends, Seth. I should say a man is as he chooses to make himself. I met a lot of men in England; some of them were much better than others. Some were extremely nice."
"Ah." Seth turned his earnest eyes on the girl's face. He lost the significance of the mischievous down-turning of the corners of her mouth. "I guess them gilt-edge folk are a dandy lot. Y' see them 'lords' an' such, they've got to be pretty nigh the mark."
"Why, yes, I suppose they have."
There was another brief pause while the man's eyes glanced keenly about.
"Maybe you mixed a deal with them sort o' folk," he went on presently.
"Oh, yes." The violet eyes were again alight.
"Pretty tidy sort o' fellers, eh?"
"Rather. I liked one or two very much--very much indeed. There was Bob--Bob Vinceps, you know--he was a splendid fellow. He was awfully nice to me. Took auntie and me everywhere. I wonder how he's getting on. I must see if there's a letter from him at Beacon. He asked me if he might write. And wasn't it nice of him, Seth? He came all the way from London to Liverpool to see me, I mean us, off. It's a long way--a dreadful long way."
"Ah, mebbe when I go into Beacon Crossing I'll fetch that letter out for you, Rosie."
But Seth's simple-heartedness--Rosebud called it "stupidity,"--was too much. The girl's smile vanished in a second and she answered sharply.
"Thanks, I'll get my own letters." Then she went on demurely. "You see if there happened to be a letter from Bob I shouldn't like auntie to see it. She is very--very--well, she mightn't like it."
"How?"
Seth looked squarely into the face beside him.
"She thinks--well, you see, she says I'm very young, and--and----"
"Ah, I tho't mebbe ther's suthin' agin him. You see, Rosie, ther' mustn't be anythin' agin the man you marry. He's got to be a jo-dandy clear thro'. I----"
"But I'm not going to marry Lord Vinceps, you silly, at least--I don't think so. Besides," as an afterthought, "it's nothing to you who I marry."
"Wal, no. Mebbe that's so, only ef you'd get hitched, as the sayin' is, to some mule-headed son of a gun that wa'n't squar' by you, I'd git around an' drop him in his tracks, ef I had to cross the water to do it."
Rosebud listened with a queer stirring at her heart, yet she could not repress the impatience she felt at the calm matter-of-fact manner in which the threat was made. The one redeeming point about it was that she knew one of Seth's quiet assurances to be far more certain, far more deadly, than anybody's else wildest spoken threats. However, she laughed as she answered him.
"Well, you won't have to cross the ocean to find the man I marry. I'm not going to England again, except, perhaps, on a business visit. I intend to stay here, unless Pa and Ma turn me out."
Seth caught his breath. For a second his whole face lit up.
"Say, I didn't jest take you right," he said. "You're goin' to stay right here?"
Rosebud gave a joyous little nod. She had stirred Seth out of his usual calm. There was no mistaking the light in his hollow eyes. He made no movement, he spoke as quietly as ever, but the girl saw something in his eyes that set her heart beating like a steam hammer. The next moment she was chilled as though she had received a cold douche.
"Wal, I'm sorry," he went on imperturbably. "Real sorry. Which I mean lookin' at it reas'nable. 'Tain't right. You belong ther'. Ther's your folk an' your property, an' the dollars. You jest ought to fix up wi' some high soundin' feller----"
"Seth, mind your own business!"
Rosebud's exasperation broke all bounds. If a look could have withered him Seth would have shriveled to bare bones. The next moment the girl's lips trembled and two big tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. She urged her horse ahead of her companion and kept that lead until they had crossed the bridge. Seth's eyes, busy in every other direction, had failed to witness her distress, just as he failed to take any