The Girl of the Golden West by David Belasco (interesting novels in english TXT) 📕

who was posing for her benefit, as was his wont, beside one of the desks.

"Say, we missed you," acknowledged Sonora with a world of tenderness in his voice. "Never knew you to desert The Polka for a whole week before."

"No, I--I . . ." stammered guiltily, and with their little gifts turned abruptly towards her desk lest she should meet their gaze.

"Academy's opened," suddenly announced Happy, "and--"

"Yes, I see it is," quickly answered the Girl, brushing away a tear that persisted in clinging to her eyelids; slowly, now, she drew off her gloves and laid them on the desk.

"I guess I'm kind o' nervous to-day, boys," she began.

"No wonder," observed Sonora. "Road agent's been in camp an' we missed a hangin'. I can't git over that."

All a-quiver and not daring to meet the men's gaze, much less to discuss the road agent with them, the Girl endeavoured to hide her confusion by asking Nick to help her off with her cape. Turning presently she said in a strained voice:

"Well, come on, boys--come, now!"

Immediately the boys fell in line for the opening exercises, which consisted of an examination by the Girl of their general appearance.

"Let me see your hands," she said to the man nearest to her; a glance was sufficient, and he was expelled from her presence. "Let me see yours, Sonora," she commanded.

Holding his hands behind his back the man addressed moved towards her slowly, for he was conscious of the grime that was on them. Before he had spoken his apology she ordered him none too gently to go and wash them, ending with an emphatic:

"Git!"

"Yes'm," was his meek answer, though he called back as he disappeared: "Been blackenin' my boots."

The Girl took up the word quickly.

"Boots! Yes, an' look at them boots!" And as each man came up to her, "An' them boots! an' them boots! Get in there the whole lot o' you an' be sure that you leave your whisky behind."

When all had left the room save Nick, who stood with her cape on his arm near the desk she suddenly became conscious that she still had her hood on, and at once began to remove it--a proceeding which brought out clearly the extraordinary pallor of her face which, generally, had a bright, healthy colouring. Now she beckoned to Nick to draw near. No need for her to speak, for he had caught the questioning look in her eyes, and it told him plainer than any words that she was anxious to hear of her lover. He was about to tell her the little he knew when with lips that trembled she finally whispered:

"Have you heard anythin'? Do you think he got through safe?"

Nick nodded in the affirmative.

"I saw 'im off, you know," she went on in the same low voice; then, before Nick could speak, she concluded anxiously: "But s'pose he don't git through?"

"Oh, he'll git through sure! We'll hear he's out of this country pretty quick," consoled the little barkeeper just as Rance, unperceived by them, quietly entered the room and went over to a chair by the stove.


XVI.


No man had more of a dread of the obvious than the Sheriff. His position, he felt, was decidedly an unpleasant one. Nevertheless, in the silence that followed the Girl's discovery of his presence, he struggled to appear his old self. He was by no means unconscious of the fact that he had omitted his usual cordial greeting to her, and he felt that she must be scrutinising him, feature by feature. When, therefore, he shot a covert glance at her, it was with surprise that he saw an appealing look in her eyes.

"Oh, Jack, I want to thank you--" she began, but stopped quickly, deterred by the hard expression that instantly spread itself over the Sheriff's face. Resentment, all the more bitter because he believed it to be groundless, followed hard on the heels of her words which he thought to be inspired solely by a delicate tactfulness.

"Oh, don't thank me that he got away," he said icily. "It was the three aces and the pair you held--"

This was the Girl's opportunity; she seized it.

"About the three aces, I want to say that--"

It was Rance's turn to interrupt, which he did brutally.

"He'd better keep out of my country, that's all."

"Yes, yes."

To the Girl, any reference to her lover was a stab. Her face was pale with her terrible anxiety; notwithstanding, the contrast of her pallid cheeks and masses of golden hair gave her a beauty which Rance, as he met her eyes, found so extraordinarily tempting that he experienced a renewed fury at his utter helplessness. At the point, however, when it would seem from his attitude that all his self-control was about to leave him, the Girl picked up the bell on the desk and rang it vigorously.

Began then the long procession of miners walking around the room before taking their seats on the benches. At their head was Happy Halliday, who carried in his hands a number of slates, the one on the top having a large sponge attached. These were all more or less in bad condition, some having no frames, while others were mere slits of slate, but all had slate-pencils fastened to them by strings.

"Come along, boys, get your slates!" sang out Happy as he left the line and let the others file past him.

"Whoop!" vociferated Trinidad in a burst of enthusiasm.

"Trin, you're out o' step there!" reprimanded the teacher a little sharply; and then addressing Happy she ordered him to take his place once more in the line.

In a little while they were all seated, and now, at last, it seemed to the barkeeper as if the air of the room had been freed of its tension. No longer did he experience a sense of alertness, a feeling that something out of the ordinary was going to happen, and it was with immense relief that he heard the Girl take up her duties and ask:

"What books were left from last year?"

At first no one was able to give a scrap of information on this important matter; maybe it was because all lips were too dry to open; in the end, however, when the silence was becoming embarrassing, Happy moistened his lips with his tongue, and answered:

"Why, we scared up jest a whole book left. The name of it is--is--is--" The effort was beyond his mental powers and he came to a helpless pause.

Swelling with importance, and drawing forth the volume in question from his pocket, Sonora stood up and finished:

"--is 'Old Joe Miller's Jokes.'"

"That will do nicely," declared the Girl and seated herself on the pine-decorated box.

"Now, boys," continued Sonora, ever the most considerate of pupils, "before we begin I propose no drawin' of weppings, drinkin' or swearin' in school hours. The conduct of certain members wore on teacher last term. I don't want to mention no names, but I want Handsome an' Happy to hear what I'm sayin'." And after a sweeping glance at his mates, who, already, had begun to disport themselves and jeer at the unfortunate pair, he wound up with: "Is that straight?"

"You bet it is!" yelled the others in chorus; whereupon Sonora dropped into his seat.

In time order was restored and now the Girl, looking at Rance out of her big, frightened, blue eyes, observed:

"Rance, last year you led off with an openin' address, an'--"

"Yes, yes, go on Sheriff!" cried the boys, hailing her suggestion with delight.

Nevertheless, the Sheriff hesitated, seeing which, Trinidad contributed: "Let 'er go, Jack!"

At length, fixing a look upon the Girl, Rance rose and said significantly:

"I pass."

"Oh, then, Sonora," suggested the Girl, covering up her embarrassment as best she could, "won't you make a speech?"

"Me--speak?" exploded Sonora; and again; "Me--speak? Oh, the devil!"

"Sh-sh!" came warningly from several of the boys.

"Why, I didn't mean that, o' course," apologised Sonora, colouring, and incidentally expectorating on Bucking Billy's boots. But to his infinite sorrow no protest worthy of the word was forthcoming from the apparently insensible Bucking Billy.

"Go on! Go on!" urged the school.

Sonora coughed behind his hand; then he began his address.

"Gents, I look on this place as something more 'n a place to sit around an' spit on--the stove. I claim that there's culture in the air o' Californay an' we're here to buck up again it an' hook on."

"Hear! Hear! Hear!" voiced the men together, while their fists came down heavily upon the improvised desks before them.

"With these remarks," concluded Sonora, "I set." And suiting the action to the word he plumped himself down heavily upon the bench, but only to rise again quickly with a cry of pain and strike Trinidad a fierce blow, who, he rightly suspected, was responsible for the pin that had found a lodging-place in the seat of his trousers.

At that not even the Girl's remonstrances prevented the boys, who had been silent as mice all the time that the instrument of torture was being adjusted, from giving vent to roars of laughter; and for a moment things in the school-room were decidedly boisterous.

"Sit down, boys, sit down!" ordered the Girl again and again; but it was some moments before she could get the school under control. When, finally, the skylarking had ceased, the Girl said in a voice which, despite its strange weariness, was music to their ears:

"Once more we meet together. There's ben a lot happened o' late that has learned me that p'r'aps I don't know as much as I tho't I did, an' I can't teach you much more. But if you're willin' to take me for what I am--jest a woman who wants things better, who wants everybody all they ought to be, why I'm willin' to rise with you an' help reach out--" She stopped abruptly, for Handsome was waving his hand excitedly at her, and asked a trifle impatiently: "What is it, Handsome?"

Handsome rose and hurriedly went over to her.

"Whisky, teacher, whisky! I want it so bad--"

The school rose to its feet as one man.

"Teacher! Teacher!" came tumultuously from all, their hands waving frantically in the air. And then without waiting for permission to speak the cry went up: "Whisky! Whisky!"

"No, no whisky," she denied them flatly.

Gradually the commotion subsided, for all knew that she meant what she said, at least for the moment.

"An' now jest a few words more on the subject o' not settin' judgment on the errin'--a subject near my heart."

This remark of the Girl's brought forth murmurs of wonder, and in the midst of them the door was pushed slowly inward and The Sidney Duck, wearing the deuce of spades which the Sheriff had pinned to his jacket when he banished him from their presence for cheating at cards, stood on the threshold, looking uncertainly about him. At once all eyes were focused upon him.

"Git! Git!" shouted the men, angrily. This was followed by a general movement towards him, which so impressed The Sidney Duck that he turned on his heel and was fleeing for his life when a cry from the Girl stopped him.

"Boys, boys," said the Girl in a reproving voice, which silenced them almost instantly; then,