Bat Wing Bowles

"Yes, but this deputy sheriff – and all that!"

"We-ell," drawled Brigham, with a sly twinkle in his eye, "I heeard a little more from him than what I told you at the first!"

"Oh, indeed! And what else did you hear?"

"Well – " Brig stopped and stuck his tongue in his cheek roguishly. "He said it was a woman that wanted you!"

"My aunt!" exclaimed Bowles, striking his leg; but Brig only spat and grinned.

"Sure!" he said, and grinned again.

"I have it!" cried Bowles. "Mrs. Lee wrote back and told her sister I was here – and then my aunt began telegraphing! That telegram Mrs. Lee had was from her!"

"Sure thing," agreed Brig; and Bowles looked up to find him smirking.

"Well, what's the matter?" he demanded. "Say, you're pretty smart, aren't you, Brig?" he observed, with pitying scorn. "They don't put one over on you very often, do they?"

"No, indeedy!" swaggered Brigham; and then they both laughed – to themselves. But the jest put an effectual end to the discussion, since Brigham did not know what it was he was supposed to have discovered, and Bowles took no pains to enlighten him. It was enough that Brig considered him a very gay dog indeed, and he did not deny the soft impeachment. So, each with his satisfied smile, they jogged along across the plains, dragging their pack animal behind them and heading for the Bat Wing.

All that day they rode on through the mellow sunshine, and the next morning found them still on their way; but just as the well-remembered ranch came into view there was a rattle of wheels from behind and they swung out to give Henry Lee the road. He was driving the fiery grays, and they fought gamely against the delay, but he pulled them down to a walk while he handed Bowles a note.

"Telegram for you, Mr. Bowles," he said. "Brig, stop at the ranch when you go by – I want to talk with you."

There was much more that might have been said, and Mrs. Lee smiled approvingly at Bowles, but the grays were within sight of the haystack and they cut the talk short with a bolt. Then Bowles glanced through the telegram and thrust it into his shirt.

"My aunt – " he began, and as the grin on Brig's face widened, he stopped short and fell into a sulk. "No use telling you anything, Brig," he said at last; "you can guess by the color of my eye."

"Sure!" said Brig, after a moment of baffled silence. "Yore aunt seems to think a whole lot of you. And, speakin' about women-folks, what's this comin' down off the hill?"

He nodded at the foothills to the west, and as Bowles gazed he saw Dixie Lee coming down the broad slope like an arrow. She was riding Wa-ha-lote, too, and at sight of that noble charger the heart of Bat Wing Bowles became sad – or perhaps it was at sight of Dixie. However that may be, he continued on his way with melancholy resignation; while Brig viewed her coming with alarm.

"Here's where I ketch hell fer somethin'!" he muttered, as she sighted him from afar; and when she rode up and faced him he hung his head like a truant.

"You Brig!" she said at last, whipping the hair from her eyes with one hand, "you haven't got git-up enough in you to win an Indian squaw! You'll make a lovely husband for somebody, and that's a fact – the way you do your courting. Who do you think is up to the big house waiting for you?"

"Huh?" demanded Brig, now suddenly all attention.

"Well, she's been there for more than a day – while you were out shooting prairie-dogs. What she sees in you is more than I can say, but – "

"Who're ye talkin' about?" barked Brigham, throwing loose his leading-rope.

"I'm talking about your girl," answered Dixie with Spartan directness. "Here, I'll lead your pack – go ahead and show her your dust."

"I'll do that," said Brig, leaning forward as she spoke; and, passing over the rope, he went spurring up the road.

Dixie Lee gave Bowles a level look from beneath her tumbled hair, and touched Wa-ha-lote with the spur. Her manner seemed to be a disclaimer of any responsibility for their being left together, and yet somehow it was very obvious that the stage had been set for an interview. But if Dixie had any intentions, she concealed them effectually, and her manner was one of good-natured tolerance.

"Well, look at that crazy fool ride," she observed, as Brig disappeared in his own dust. "You'd think from the way he travels he was the keenest lover in the world." She paused here and laughed to herself.

"Yes, indeed!" responded Bowles, with a certain brotherly pride. "Old Brig thinks a lot of that girl."

"Well, maybe he does," conceded Dixie; "but he certainly makes me provoked. I declare, the way some of these men – " she paused again and bit her lip. Mr. Bowles was one of those men, too. "I reckon it's all right," she continued resignedly; "but when a woman has to ride clear over to the Gila, and propose for a man, and steal his girl for him, and then round him up and send him in, I guess she has some excuse to speak her mind. Don't you think so, Mr. Bowles? Well, then, if your friend Brigham had had his way, he would have hit for the summit of the White Mountains, and his girl would have been married to a Mormon! It makes me mad, Mr. Bowles, I declare it does! The idea of leaving that poor little girl over there and never going near her, when all the time she was begging him to come back, and her folks were reading her letters. She couldn't write it to him – she had to tell him – and he never showed up at all. Please don't apologize for him, Mr. Bowles; I'm sure there's not a word to be said."

Mr. Bowles bowed his head and felt very humble indeed, as if he, too, in some inexplicable way, had erred and been rebuked.

"And now," said Dixie at last, "Father'll make Mr. Brig his wagon-boss, and they'll get married and live at the ranch. Simple, isn't it?"

"Why, it seems so," admitted Bowles; "but how do you know he will?"

"How do I know?" repeated Dixie, rolling her eyes on him. "Why, Mr. Bowles, have you been around the Bat Wing for two months and failed to note who was boss? Right after you and Brigham Clark left I went down and fired that Hardy Atkins – so you don't need to be bashful about coming back."

Her voice trailed off a little as she ended, and Bowles started and looked at the ground. New worlds and vistas appeared before him, and visions and sudden dreams – and then he was back by her side, and the road was passing by.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "It's my own fault – I should have explained at the beginning. But now your mother has written to her sister, and she has told my aunt, and so I've got to move on. She's telegraphing already." He showed her the yellow message and slipped it back into his pocket. "And there was a deputy sheriff inquiring for me," he added bitterly.

"Oh, dear!" pouted Dixie, yanking at the reluctant pack-horse. "I just knew she'd do it. Mother means well, but she's a New Yorker, and – well, I hope she's satisfied!"

"Yes, I hope so too," added Bowles. "I never did have anything to be ashamed of, but – do you know who I am?"

"No, I don't," answered Dixie May. "And I don't care, either," she added, glancing across at him with clear-seeing eyes. "I always knew you were a gentleman, and – say, what's the matter with that pack?"

She dismounted quickly as she spoke, and Bowles dropped off to help. Then, after the ropes had been tightened, they stood silent within the circle of their horses.

"Mr. Bowles," began Dixie, leaning one arm on the pack and looking thoughtfully away, "being the man you are, you – you wouldn't compel a lady to apologize to you, would you?"

"Why no, no – certainly not!" gasped Bowles, alarmed by a mistiness in her eyes.

"Because if that's what you're going away for – "

"Oh, my dear Miss Lee!" protested Bowles, now suddenly stirred to the depths. "Don't think of it – not for a moment! No, indeed! I will confess that I was a little hurt by your – but that's all right! That's all right! You don't know my aunt, do you, Miss Lee? I can't explain it to you, but – well, she's a very determined woman, in her way, and – well, she wants me to come home."

"Yes?"

"Yes, and so I'd better move on. I'm sorry that Brig can't go along with me, but – well, I can go alone. Do you remember one time, when we were coming West, I spoke about the spirit of the country – the spirit of the West? Well, I have found it – it is to move on!"

"And never come back?" inquired Dixie quickly.

"Well, something like that," admitted Bowles.

"Yes, I do remember that," responded Dixie, with a reminiscent smile. "I remember it well. We were alone on the train and we said all kinds of things – I didn't know you very well then. I remember you told me once, if I'd help you find the Far West, you'd be my faithful knight – and all that. And I helped you, too, didn't I?"

"Why, yes!" said Bowles, puzzled by her air.

"Well, what about being my knight?" demanded Dixie, with sudden frankness. "You've done well out here, Mr. Bowles, but there's one thing I'm disappointed in – you don't keep the customs of the country!"

"Why, what do you mean, Miss Lee?" inquired Bowles.

A sudden smile illuminated Dixie's face – the same smile that had taken possession of him when he had forgotten and stolen a kiss – and then she turned away and blushed.