A Prairie Courtship

"I believe I have already admitted that I was prejudiced against Winthrop."

"That," returned Thorne, "is, perhaps, from your point of view, no more than natural. In fact, I'm not sure I could say he was right in everything he has done." He paused a moment. "But, I shouldn't like to think that your prejudice extends to Lucy."

Alison had not expected this, and she wondered with some resentment exactly what he meant to imply.

"Of course," he added, "some of her ideas and some of the things she says might jar on you, but that doesn't count for very much, after all. The girl's staunch all through, and the way she has stuck to Winthrop in his trouble and the way she has run the farm would compel the respect of any one who understood what she has had to put up with."

Alison wondered whether he wished to reassure her concerning Lucy's devotion to her lover, which, as she remembered, the girl herself had already done; but she scarcely fancied that he would adopt such a course as this. It would, at least, be very much out of harmony with his usual conduct.

"I venture to believe that Lucy and I will be good friends in the future," she said.

Slaney and the trooper were now rapidly approaching, and a minute or two later Thorne pulled up and turned to the corporal, who reined in his horse close beside the wagon.

"You have something to say to me?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Slaney; "it's this: Do you know where Jake Winthrop is?"

"No," answered Thorne; "on the whole, I'm glad I don't. What's more, I haven't the least suspicion."

They looked at each other steadily, and it struck Alison that the little gesture Slaney made was a striking testimonial to her companion's character. It indicated that the corporal had no hesitation in taking the word of the man with whom he was at variance. Though she and Thorne occupied the same seat they were far enough apart for her to see his face, and as he sat with his broad hat tilted back, smiling down at Slaney, she recognized that in spite of the old blue duck he wore there was a virile grace in every line of his figure. In addition to this, by contrast with the smartly uniformed corporal, he looked, as she felt it could most fittingly be described, thoroughbred, and there was something in his half-whimsical manner that curiously pleased her.

"I guess you heard what happened up the track?" Slaney next inquired.

"I did. Rather amusing in some respects, wasn't it? I understand that you and the trooper sat out most of the night watching an empty shack."

"Well," asserted Slaney grimly, "there was nothing very amusing about the giant-powder. I tell you the man meant to drop it into the fire."

"From what I know of Winthrop, I'm inclined to believe he did. In fact, in my opinion, it would be considerably wiser of Nevis if he left that man alone. I'm not sure he has a very good case against him, anyway; though, of course, that's no concern of yours or mine. You can't pick up his trail?"

"That's a cold fact," declared the corporal. "I guess you wouldn't mind getting down and walking along a few yards with me?"

"It's not worth while. I've no objections to Miss Leigh's hearing what you have to say, and I'm afraid Volador wouldn't stand unless I kept the reins. The flies are bothering him, and he doesn't seem quite easy when you're in the neighborhood." Thorne paused and laughed. "In a way, that's not astonishing."

Slaney disregarded the last observation.

"Then," he said, "I'm not the man to make useless trouble – anyway, unless it's going to give me a shove up toward promotion – but you're worrying me. The fact is, wherever I pick up Winthrop's trail I strike yours too. Now there was a night some while back when we ran one of you down close to the frontier."

Thorne saw Alison glance sharply at the corporal, and he smiled.

"Why should I ride for the frontier with the police after me?"

"That's what I don't exactly know, but I have my views. I want to say that we picked up a black plug hat when we were coming back along the trail. The point is that the thing was new. Then we found a brown duck jacket with a tear in it, but I figured the tear had been made quite lately."

"I don't think you could prove very much from that."

"Well," said Slaney, "I could try. It would look bad if I put the other matter of the horse Winthrop found near your homestead alongside it. Now I'll ask you right out – Are you going to mix yourself up with Jake's affairs any more?"

"In return, I'd like to hear whether you have any notion of carrying your investigations further?" Thorne parried.

They looked rather hard at each other, and then Slaney smiled.

"I guess it will depend a good deal on your answer; that is, unless Nevis gets hold of the thing."

"Then it's my intention to drop Jake Winthrop now. There's very little probability of his wanting any further assistance that I could render him."

"Well, let it go at that," replied Slaney simply. "I guess it will save you trouble. Good-day to you."

He rode away, and Alison turned to her companion when they drove on again.

"One could have imagined that you and the corporal were making a bargain," she suggested.

Thorne laughed.

"Well," he admitted, "I'm afraid it was quite illegal, but it amounted to something very much like that. The bargain, however, is only a provisional one. If Nevis chances on the truth, he may upset it by forcing Slaney's hand."

"But, after all, you gave each other only a vague hint. It would be difficult even to reproach the corporal if, as you say, he went back on it."

"Oh, yes," assented Thorne dryly. "Still, I haven't the least reason for believing that probable."

Alison made no comment, though the attitude of both men appealed to her. They were enemies in some respects, and yet once the indefinite understanding had been arrived at neither seemed to have the slightest fear that the other would violate it. They were, she remembered, men who lived in the open, who broke and rode wild horses, and who faced exposure and strenuous toil. Why this should be conducive to reliability of character was not very clear, but it apparently had that result. Then she remembered what the corporal had mentioned.

"You have been doing something to help Winthrop to escape since the night you let him have the horse?"

Thorne admitted it, and when she pressed him for the story he told it whimsically; but this time Alison felt no anger. A few plain words spoken by Lucy Calvert had obviated that, for it was now quite clear that the man had been prompted by mere chivalrous pity and lust of excitement, and had no desire to win the girl's favor.

"That was splendid!" she exclaimed.

Thorne smiled, though he looked at her in a somewhat curious fashion. Then at her request he related how Winthrop had held off the police. As it happened, he could tell a story with dramatic force, and both the brief narratives had their effect on Alison. She had imagination, and could picture the man who now sat beside her smashing furiously through the tangled bluff in the blackness of the night, and the other sitting grimly resolute beside the stove with the stick of giant-powder in his hand. After all, they were, she realized, the doings of primitive men; but charity that did not stop to count the cost, and steadfast, unflinching valor, were rudimentary too, and all the progress of a complex civilization had evolved nothing finer. Man could add nothing to them. They were perfect gifts to him, though there was reason for believing that they were not distributed broadcast.

Then they chatted about other matters, and Alison was almost sorry when the Farquhar homestead and its barns and stables rose, girt about with a sweep of tall green wheat, out of the prairie. Thorne stayed for supper, and he was standing beside his team with Farquhar an hour afterward when the latter suddenly made an excuse and moved away as his wife came out of the doorway. Thorne grinned at this, and there was still a gleam of amusement in his eyes when his hostess stopped beside him. He indicated the retreating Farquhar with a wave of his hand.

"Harry remembered that he'd want the wagon to-morrow, and there's a bolt loose," he explained. "It didn't seem to occur to him until he noticed you. I suppose one could call it a coincidence."

"Have you any different ideas on the subject?" Mrs. Farquhar inquired.

"Since you ask the question, it looks rather like collusion."

"Well," laughed Mrs. Farquhar, "I certainly wanted a little talk with you. To begin with, I should like to point out that we have had a good deal of your company lately."

"That's a fact. Perhaps I'd better say that quite apart from the pleasure of spending an evening with you and Harry there's another reason."

"The thing has been perfectly obvious for some time; indeed, it has had my serious consideration. You see, I hold myself responsible for Alison to some extent."

"You feel that you stand in loco parentis– I believe that's the correct phrase – but in one way it doesn't seem to apply. Nobody would believe you were old enough to be her mother."

Mrs. Farquhar glanced at him in half-amused impatience, but his manner swiftly changed.

"It's my intention to marry Alison as soon as things permit," he added. "Anyway, that is what I should like to do, but whether I'll ever get any farther is, of course, another matter. It's one on which I'd be glad to have your opinion; and that suggests a question. Can my views have been perfectly obvious to Alison?"