Even a child would have known that these men did not keep the law. Their eyes were never still; their heads were forever turning; and everything spoke of that restlessness of men who are hunted by men. The fear of an outraged society was upon them.
No matter how much she wished to retreat now, it was too late. The hand of the father fell on the bridle rein of Nancy and drew the mare with her burden toward the fire, and the two tall sons closed in from either side. They seemed doubly formidable at this close range. Mary Hood could not move. Her arms hung limp, her head sank.
The two boys spoke not a word. But they drew close to her with grins of strange pleasure. One of them took her nerveless hand in his huge, grimy paw, and, lifting it, he showed it to his brother and laughed foolishly. The other touched her dress, smiling into her face with eyes that flickered like lightning from feature to feature and back again. She thought them half-witted, or entirely mad.
“Hey, Harry, Joe!” cried the father. “What d’you mean starin’ the lady out of face like that? Been a long time since they seen a girl, and they mostly don’t know how they should act, but they’ll come around. Don’t look so scared at ‘em. They ain’t going to do you no harm! Here, climb outn your saddle and sit down and rest yourself.”
It was the sweetest of sweet music to the girl, these hurried words, together with the sharp reproof to the two big fellows. She got out of the saddle, but faltered the moment her heels struck the ground. She was weaker than she had thought. The old man was instantly beside her and had his arms beneath her shoulders.
“Get some water. Don’t stand there like idiots,” he called to Joe and Harry. “Step alive or I’ll skin you. The lady’s sick. Sit here, ma’am. Now rest yourself against that log. Wait till I get a blanket. There you are. Put your hands out to that fire. Heaven a’mighty, if you ain’t plumb fagged!”
The kindness was so unexpected, so hearty and genuine, that tears welled up in the eyes of the girl as she smiled at the wild woodsman. He squatted beside her patting her hands.
“I know. You got lost. Been riding a couple of days and nothing to eat. Well, these hills would bother most anybody. But wait till I get a cup or two of coffee into you and a few slices of - hey, Joe, lay your knife into that bacon and get some off - and cut it thin! I know the way a lady likes her chuck!”
Chapter XXVII
Good News
At least the cooking of Sam, as he said he was called, was better, she was willing to vow, than any she had ever tasted. What matter if the bacon was fat and cut thick in spite of his injunctions, and the flapjacks unspeakably greasy, and the ample venison steak only half done, and the coffee bitter beyond imagining. It was food, and her blood grew rich and warmly contented again as she ate.
Sam himself sat cross-legged beside her and a little to the front, overseeing all the operations of that meal, applauding each mouthful she took with a smile and a nod, and eagerly following the motions of her hand as though he himself were half starved and the food she ate were nutriment to him.
As for the two gaunt sons, they were kept busy following the orders of their father to bring new delicacies for the girl, or to build up the fire, or to unsaddle her horse, or to cut evergreen boughs for her bed that night and lay it in a comfortable place beside the fire.
They obeyed these instructions with a sort of hungry eagerness that amazed her. She began to be surprised that she had ever feared them. When they had done anything for her comfort they stole small, abashed side glances at her and flushed under her answering smile. They were like half-wild puppies, fearing the hand of man but loving the touch of it. Her heart welled up in pity of them and their ragged clothes and their fierce, lean faces, grown mature before their time.
“Just think of how you near missed us,” said Sam, as the meal reached an end at length. “When we heard your hoss come up the wind I had the boys douse the fire. Never can tell in these parts. Wild folks are about ready to do wild things, and old Sam ain’t the one to be took by surprise. No, sir!”
He watched her face keenly and covertly to discover any doubt of the truth of his words.
“I don’t think you are,” replied Mary Hood. “The fire went out by magic, it seemed to me. And I only blundered on it again by chance.”
“You see?” said Sam triumphantly to the two sons. “That’s what I tell you all the time.” He turned to the girl again. ”Joe and Harry always want to leave the fire burning and slip off among the trees. If anybody comes up to snoop around the fire, then it’s hunter hunt hunter. And there you are. But my way is best. Never take no chances. Keep away from trouble. Run from a fight. That’s my way of doing things. In spite of all that, you’ll find trouble enough in this world!”
He continued to watch her while he talked. She answered his glance with difficulty, looking gravely and steadily into his face. Presently he laughed, embarrassed.
“Now, we’re a rough-looking lot ourselves,” he continued. “What might you take us to be, lady? You ain’t told us your name yet.”
“My name is Mary Hood.” Why conceal the name, she thought.
“Mary Hood? That’s a pretty plain name for a girl like you. But going back where I stopped, how might you make us out, Mary Hood?”
She sighed. It might infuriate them if she told the truth; but if she lied they would soon suspect her dissimulation.
“I only guess, of course,” she said softly. “You are men who have been very kind to me, and of course I like you for your kindness. You are prospectors, perhaps, in the mountains.”
“You make us out that way, eh?” said the old man, rubbing his hands together. “Hear that, boys? This lady has an eye, eh?”
She added slowly: “And I think that perhaps you are also fugitives from the law. I don’t know. I only guess. But I’m afraid you’re unhappy fellows, and the law hunts you.”
The three men became three moveless statues looking gravely at her, not with anger or sullen spite, but as men who have been judged and cannot appeal from the judgment.
The old man changed the subject. “How come you to get lost?”
She paused to think. If she told him that she had indeed lost her way there were nine chances in ten that he would discover the lie before he had talked with her for five minutes. But if she confessed everything she might win him to her side, and then whoever followed her trail to these men would get no further clews from them.
“I am running away,” she said simply.
At a stride the two tall youths came near with their great shadows standing boldly against the trees behind them. They looked earnestly down into her face as though by her confession she had been drawn closer to them. They, the fugitives, could understand the pursued.
Sam was chuckling. “You had a little change of words with the gent you’re engaged to marry, maybe, and got so mad you figured you’d leave and never see him again? Was that it?”
His random guess had struck so close to the truth that she stared at him.
“Maybe I hit it the first time,” he said, nodding. “Yes, I guess I pretty near did.”
“Very nearly. But the whole truth is that I have a very stern father.”
“H’m. I’ve heard tell of such things before, but mostly the fathers I’ve seen has been stern just to do good to their boys and their girls.”
He pointed the moral of his tale with a meaning glance at the two youths.
“I think so,” she confessed; “but sometimes they may be wrong. This father of mine wants me to marry a man I don’t love.”
“H’m,” said Sam, nodding. “But maybe you could get to love him? Has he got money and looks and”