CHAPTER XVII THE FEAST

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JOYOUS whoops, loud and heartfelt, brought the women to the door of the sheriff’s house in time to see their guests dismount. A perfect babel of words greeted their appearance as the cowboys burst into a running fire of jokes, salutations and comments. Even the ponies seemed to know that something important and unusual was taking place, for they cavorted and bit and squealed to prove that they were in accord with the spirit of their riders and that thirty miles in less than three hours had not subdued them. Bright colors prevailed, for the neck-kerchiefs in most cases were new and yet showed the original folding creases, while new, clean thongs of rawhide and glittering bits of metal flashed back the sunlight. Spurs glittered and the clean looking horses appeared to have had a dip in the Limping Water. Blake had hunted through the carpeted rooms of his ranch-house for decorations, and in the drawer of a table he had found a bunch of ribbons of many kinds and shades. These now fluttered from the pommels of the saddles and in one case a red ribbon was twined about the leg of a vicious pinto, and the pinto was not at all pleased by the decoration.

The sheriff led the way to the house closely followed by Blake, the others coming in the order of their nerve. The Orphan was last, not from lack of courage, but rather because of strategy. He thought that Helen would remain at the door to welcome each arrival and if he was in the van he would be passed on to make way for those behind him. Being the last man he hoped to be able to say more to her than a few words of greeting. As he mounted the steps she was drawn into the room for something and he stepped to one side on the porch, well knowing that she would miss him.

Bud poked his head out the door and started to say something, but The Orphan fiercely whispered for him to be silent and to disappear, which Bud did after grinning exasperatingly.

The man on the porch was growing impatient when he heard the light swish of skirts around the corner of the house. Sauntering carelessly to the corner he looked into the back-yard and saw Helen with a tray in her hands, nearing the back door. She espied him and stopped, flushing suddenly as he leaped lightly to the ground and walked rapidly toward her. Her cheeks became a deeper red when he stopped before her and took the tray, for his eyes were rebellious and would not be subdued, and the first thing she saw was the gold pin which stood out boldly against the dark blue neck-kerchief. She was rarely beautiful in her white dress, and the ribbon which she wore at her throat did not detract in its effect. Later her sister was to wonder if it was a coincidence that the ribbon and his neck-kerchief were so good a match in color.

She welcomed him graciously and he felt a sudden new and strangely exhilarating sensation steal over him as he took the hand she held out, the tray all the while bobbing recklessly in his other hand.

“Why aren’t you in the house paying your respects to your hostess?” she chided half in jest and half in earnest.

“The delay will but add to my fervor when I do,” he replied, “for I will have had a stimulus then. As long as the hostesses are four and insist on not being together, how can I pay my respects all at once?”

“But there is only one hostess,” she laughingly corrected. “I am afraid you are not very good at making excuses. You probably never felt the need to make them before. You see, I, too, am only a guest.”

“We two,” he corrected daringly.

“I am very glad to see you,” she said, leading away from plurals. “You are looking very well and much more contented. And then, this is ever so much nicer than our first meeting, isn’t it? No horrid Apaches.”

“I’ve gotten so that I rather like Apaches,” he replied. “They are so useful at times. But you mustn’t try to tempt me to subordinate that eventful day, not yet. It can’t be done, although I’ve never tried to do it,” he hastily assured her, making a gesture of helplessness. “Sometimes an unexpected incident will change the habits of a lifetime, making the days seem brighter, and yet, somehow, adding a touch of sadness. I have been a stranger to myself since then, restless, absentminded, moody and hungry for I know not what.” He paused and then slowly continued, “I must beg to remain loyal to that day of all days when you bathed an outlaw’s head and showed your love for fair play and kindness.”

“Goodness!” she cried, for one instant meeting his eager eyes. “Why, I thought it was a terrible day! And you really think differently?”

“Very much so,” he assured her as she withdrew her hand from his. “You see, it was such a new and delightful experience to save a stage coach and then find that it was a hospital with a wonderful doctor. I accused that Apache of being stingy with his lead, for he might just as well have given me a few more wounds to have dressed.”

“Yes,” she laughingly retorted, “it was almost as new an experience as starting on a long and supposedly peaceful journey and suddenly finding oneself in the middle of a desert surrounded by dead Indians and doctoring an Indian killer who was at war with one’s brother. And that after a terrible shaking up lasting for over an hour. Truly it is a day to be remembered. Now, don’t you think you should hurry in and greet my sister-in-law?”

“Yes, certainly,” he quickly responded. “But before I lose the opportunity I must ask you if you will care if I ride over and see you occasionally, because it is terribly lonely on that ranch.”

“You know that we shall always be glad to see you whenever you can call,” she replied, smiling up at him. “We are all very deep in your debt and brother and all of us think a great deal of you. Are you satisfied on the Star C, and do you like your work and your companions?”

“Thank you,” he cried happily, “I will ride over and see you once in a while. But as for my work, it is delightful! The Star C is fine and my companions–well, they just simply can’t be beat! they are the finest, whitest set of men that ever gathered under one roof.”

“That’s very nice, I am glad that you find things so congenial,” she replied in sincerity. “James was sure that you would, for Mr. Blake is an old friend of his.”

“I’m very anxious about this pin,” he said, putting his hand on it. “May I keep it for a while longer?” he asked with a note of appeal in his voice.

“Why, yes,” she replied, “if you wish to. But only as long as you do not displease me, and you will not do that, will you? James has such deep confidence in you that I know you will not disappoint him. You will justify him in his own mind and in the minds of his acquaintances and prove that he has not erred in judgment, won’t you?”

“If I am the sum total of your brother’s trouble, he will have a path of roses to wander through all the rest of his life,” he responded earnestly. “And I’m really afraid that you will never again wear this pin as a possession of yours. Of course you can borrow it occasionally,” and he smiled whimsically, “but as far as displeasing you is concerned, it is mine forever. It will really and truly be mine on that condition, won’t it? My very own if I do not forfeit it?”

“If you wish it so,” she replied quickly, her face radiant with smiles. “And you will work hard and you will never shoot a man, no matter what the provocation may be, unless it is absolutely necessary to do it for the saving of your own life or that of a friend or an innocent man. Promise me that!” she commanded imperatively, pleased at being able to dictate to him. “Men like you never break a promise,” she added impulsively.

“I promise never to shoot a man, woman, child or–or anybody,” he laughingly replied, “unless it is necessary to save life. And I’ll work real hard and save my money. And on Sundays, rain or shine, I’ll ride in and report to my new foreman.” Then a bit of his old humor came to him: “For I just about need this pin–knots are so clumsy, you know.”

She glanced at the knot which held the pin and laughed merrily, leading the way into the house.

As they entered Humble was extolling the virtues of his dog, to the broad grins of his companions, who constantly added amendments and made corrections sotto voce.

“Why, here they are!” cried the sheriff in such a tone as to suffuse Helen’s face with blushes. The Orphan coolly shook hands with him.

“Yes, here we are, Sheriff, every one of us,” he replied. “We couldn’t be expected to stay away when Mrs. Shields put herself to so much trouble, and we’re all happy and proud to be so honored. How do you do, Mrs. Shields,” he continued as he took her hand. “It is awful kind of you to go to such trouble for a lot of lonely, hungry fellows like us.”

“Goodness sakes!” she cried, delighted at his words and pleased at the way he had parried her husband’s teasing thrust. “Why, it was no trouble at all–you are all my boys now, you know.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Shields,” he replied slowly. “We will do our very best to prove ourselves worthy of being called your boys.”

The sheriff regarded The Orphan with a look of approbation and turned to his sister Helen.

“He ain’t nobody’s fool, eh, Sis?” he whispered. “I’m wondering how you ever made up your mind to share him with us!”

“Oh, please don’t!” she begged in confusion. “Please don’t tease me now!”

“All right, Sis,” he replied in a whisper, pinching her ear. “I’ll save it all up for some other time, some time when he ain’t around to turn it off, eh? But I don’t blame him a bit for exploring the yard first–you’re the prettiest girl this side of sun-up,” he said, beaming with love and pride. “How’s that for a change, eh? Worth a kiss?”

She kissed him hurriedly and then left the room to attend to her duties in the kitchen, and he sauntered over to where The Orphan was talking with Mrs. Shields, his hand rubbing his lips and a mischievous twinkle in his kind eyes.

“Did you notice the new flower-bed right by the side of the house as you ran past it a while ago?” he asked, flashing a keen warning to his wife.

The Orphan searched his memory for the flower-bed and not finding it, turned and smiled, not willing to admit that his attention had been too fully taken up with a fairer flower than ever grew in earth.

“Why, yes, it is real pretty,” he replied. “What about it?”

“Oh, nothing much,” gravely replied the sheriff as he edged away. “Only we were thinking of putting a flower-bed there, although I haven’t had time to get at it yet.”

The Orphan flushed and glanced quickly at the outfit, who were too busy cracking jokes and laughing to pay any attention to the conversation across the room.

“James!” cried Mrs. Shields. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself!”

“When you tickle a mule,” said the sheriff, grinning at his friend, “you want to look out for the kick. Come again sometime, Sonny.”

“James!” his wife repeated, “how can you be so mean! Now, stop teasing and behave yourself!”“For a long time I’ve been puzzled about what you resembled, but now I have your words for it,” easily countered The Orphan. “Thank you for putting me straight.”

The sheriff grinned sheepishly and scratched his head: “I’m an old fool,” he grumbled, and forthwith departed to tell Helen of the fencing.

Mrs. Shields excused herself and followed her husband into the kitchen to look after the dinner, and The Orphan sauntered over to his outfit just as Jim looked out of a rear window. Jim turned quickly, his face wearing a grin from ear to ear.

“Hey, Bud!” he called eagerly. “Bud!”

“What?” asked Bud, turning at the hail.

“Come over here for a minute, I want to show you something,” Jim replied, “but don’t let Humble come.”

Bud obeyed and looked: “Jimminee!” he exulted. “Don’t that look sumptious, though? This is where we shine, all right.” Then turned: “Hey, fellows, come over here and take a look.”

As they crowded around the window Humble discovered that something was in the wind and he followed them. What they saw was a long table beneath two trees, and it was covered with a white cloth and dressed for a feast. Bud turned quickly from the crowd and forcibly led Humble to a side window before that unfortunate had seen anything and told him to put his finger against the glass, which Humble finally did after an argument.

“Feel the pain?” Bud asked.

“Why, no,” Humble replied, looking critically at his finger. “What’s the matter with you, anyhow?”

“Nothing,” replied Bud. “Think it over, Humble,” he advised, turning away.

Humble again put his finger to the glass and then snorted:

“Locoed chump! Prosperity is making him nutty!” When he turned he saw his friends laughing silently at him and making grimaces, and a light suddenly broke in upon him.

“Yes, I did!” he cried. “That joke is so old I plumb forgot it years ago! Spring something that hasn’t got whiskers and a halting step, will you?”

Jim laughed and suggested a dance, but was promptly squelched.

“You heathen!” snorted Blake in mock horror. “This is Sunday! If you want to dance wait till you get back to the ranch–suppose one of the women was here and heard you say that!”

“Gee, I forgot all about it being Sunday,” replied Jim, quickly looking to see if any of the women were in the room. “We’re regular barbarians, ain’t we!” he exclaimed in self-condemnation and relief when he saw that no women were present. “We’re regular land pirates, ain’t we?”

“You’ll be asking to play poker yet, or have a race,” jabbed Humble with malice. “You ain’t got no sense and never did have any.”

“Huh!” retorted Jim belligerently, “I won’t try to learn a Chinee cook how to play poker and get skinned out of my pay, anyhow! Got enough?” he asked, “or shall I tell of the time you drifted into Sagetown and asked––

“Shut up, you fool!” whispered Humble ferociously. “Yu’ll get skun if you say too much!”

“’Skun’ is real good,” retorted Jim. “Got any more of them new words to spring on us?”

Helen had been passing to and fro past the window and Docile Thomas here put his marveling into words, for he had been casting covert glances at her, but now his restraint broke.

“Gee whiz!” he exclaimed in a whisper to Jack Lawson. “Ain’t she a regular hummer, now! Lines like a thoroughbred, face like a dream and a smile what shore is a winner! See her hair–fine and dandy, eh? She’s in the two-forty class, all right!” he enthused. “Why, when this country wakes up to what’s in it the sheriff will have to put up a stockade around this house and mount guard. Everybody from Bill up will be stampeding this way to talk business with the sheriff. No wonder The Orphan has got a bee in his bonnet–lucky dog!”

“She can take care of my pay every month just as soon as she says the word,” Jack replied. “But suppose you look away once in a while? Suppose you shift your sights! You, too, Humble,” he said, suddenly turning on the latter.

“Me what?” asked Humble, without interest and without shifting his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“Look at something else, see?”

“Shore I see,” replied Humble. “That’s why I’m looking. Do you think I look with my eyes shut! Gee, but ain’t she a picture, though!”

“She shore is, but give it a rest, take a vacation, you chump!” retorted Jack. “You’re staring at her like she had you hoodooed. Come out of your trance–wake up and make a fool of yourself some other way. Don’t aim all the time at her. Mebby Lee Lung has killed your dog!”

“If he has we’ll need a new cook,” replied Humble with decision.

“Come on, boys! Don’t start milling!” cried the sheriff, suddenly entering the room. “Dinner’s all ready and waiting for us. And I shore hope you have all got your best appetites with you, because Margaret likes to see her food taken care of lively. If you don’t clean it all up she’ll think you don’t like it,” he said, winking at Blake, “and if she once gets that notion in her head it will be no more invitations for the Star C.”

There was much excitement in the crowd, and the replies came fast.

“I ain’t had anything good to eat for fifteen long, aching years!” cried Bud. “When I get through you’ll need a new table.

“Same here, only for thirty years,” replied Jim hastily. “I just couldn’t sleep last night for thinking about the glorious surprise my abused stomach was due to have to-day. I’ll bet my gun on my performance if the track is heavy, all right. I’m not poor on speed, and I’m a stayer from Stayersville.”

“Well, I won’t be among the also rans, you can bet on that,” laughed Silent. “I don’t weigh very much, but I’m geared high.”

“I’ll bet it’s good!” cried Humble, “I’ll bet it’s real good!”

“D––n good, you mean!” corrected Jack. “Hey, fellows!” he cried, “did you hear what Humble said? He said that he’d bet it was real good!”

“Horray for Humble, the wit of the Star C,” laughed Docile.

“Me for the apricot pie!” exulted Charley. “Here’s where I get square on Blake for rubbing it in all these months about the fine pie he gets over here.”

“There ain’t no apricot pie,” gravely lied the sheriff in surprise.

“What!” cried Charley in alarm. “There ain’t none for me! Oh, well, you can’t lose me in daylight, for I’ll double up on everything else. I ain’t going to get left, all right!”

“Don’t wake me up,” begged Joe Haines. “Let me dream on in peace and plenty. Grub, real, genuine grub, grub what is grub! Oh, joy!”

Mrs. Shields hurried into the room and then paused in surprise when she saw that the outfit had not moved toward the feast.

“Land sakes!” she cried. “Aren’t you boys hungry, or is James up to some of his everlasting teasing again!”

“You talk to her, Bud,” whispered Jim eagerly. “I’m so scary I shore can’t.”

“Yes, go ahead, Bud!” came instant and unanimous endorsement in whispers.

“Well, ma’am,” began Bud, clearing his throat, glancing around uneasily to be sure that the crowd was giving him moral backing, and feeling uncomfortable, “we was just getting up a–a––

“B, C, D,” prompted Jim in a whisper.

“We was just getting up a resolution of thanks, Mrs. Shields,” he continued, stabbing his elbow into the stomach of the offending Jim. “You shut up!” he fiercely whispered. “I’m carrying one hundred and forty pounds now without the saddle!” Then he continued: “We all of us are plumb tickled about this, so plumb tickled we don’t hardly know what to say––“That’s right,” whispered Jim, folding his arms across his stomach. “You’re proving it, all right.”

Silent and Jack hauled Jim to the rear and Bud continued unruffled: “But we want to thank you, ma’am, from the bottoms, the very lowest bottoms of our hearts for your kindness to a orphant outfit what ain’t had anything to eat since the war, and very little during it. Joe Haines, here, ma’am, was just saying as how he was a-scared that it is all a dream––

“I didn’t neither!” fiercely contradicted Joe in a whisper, looking very self-conscious. He was whisked to the rear to join Jim and the speech went on.

“He is afraid it is a dream, ma’am, and I know we all of us have more or less doubts about it being really true. But, ma’am, we shore are anxious to find out all about it. We’ve rid thirty miles to see for ourselves, and I don’t reckon you’ll have any fears about our appetites being left at home when you sizes up the wreck left in the path of the storm after the stampede is over. The boys want to give you three cheers even if it is Sunday, ma’am, for your kindness to them, and I’m shore one of the boys!”“Hip, hip, horray!” yelled the crowd, surging forward.

“Good boy, Bud!” they cried.

“I’m proud of you, Buddie!” exulted Charley, slapping him extra heartily on the back.

“I didn’t know you had it in you, Bud!” cried Silent. “It was shore a dandy speech, all right.”

“We’ll send you to Congress for that, some day, Bud,” cried Jack Lawson. “You’re all right!”

“I once had a piece of pie, a piece of pie, a piece of pie,

I once had a piece of pie, when I was five years old,”

sang Charley as he pranced toward the door.

“Good! Go on, Charley, go on!” cried his companions joyously.

“Now I’ll have another piece, another piece, another piece,

Now I’ll have another piece, that’s two all told.

Good bye, Lee Lung, good bye Lee Lung,

Good bye, Lee Lung, we’re going to forget you now!”

“Again on that Lee Lung, altogether–it hits me right!” cried Bud, and the matter pertaining to the farewells to Lee Lung was promptly and properly attended to in heartfelt sincerity.

The ladies laughed with delight, and Mrs. Shields whispered to her husband, who nodded and escorted The Orphan to a seat near the head of the table, where he was flanked by Helen and Blake.

“Grab your partners, boys,” the sheriff cried, pointing to the chairs. There was a hasty piling of belts and guns on the ground, and after much confusion all were seated.

The sheriff arose: “Boys, Mrs. Shields wants me to tell you how pleased she is to have you all here. She has felt plumb sorry about you and she shore has shuddered at the thought of a Chinee cook––

“Which same we all do–it’s chronic,” interposed Jim to laughter.

“She wants you to make yourselves at home,” continued the sheriff, “learn the lay of the land around this range and never forget the trail leading here, because she insists that when any of you come to town you have simply got to pay us a visit and see if there is a piece of pie or cake to eat before you go back to that cook. And Tom says that he’ll fire the first man who renigs––

“I’m going to carry the mail hereafter!” cried Bud, scowling fiercely at Joe.

“Not if I can shoot first, you don’t!” retorted the mail carrier. “I was just a-wondering if it wouldn’t be better to come in twice a week for it instead of once. We might get more letters.”

“We’ll bid for your job next year,” laughed Silent.

“Before I coax you to eat,” continued the sheriff, “I––

“Wrong word, Sheriff,” interposed Humble. “Not coax, but force.”

“I am going to ask you to reverse things a little, and drink a standing toast to the man who saved the stage, to the man who saved Miss Ritchie and my sisters and who made this dinner possible. This would be far from a happy day but for him. I want you to drink to the long life and happiness of The Orphan. All up!”

The clink of glasses was lost in the spontaneous cheer which burst from the lips of the former outlaw’s new friends, and he sat confused and embarrassed with a sudden timidity, his face crimson.

“Speech!” cried Jim, the others joining in the cry. “Speech! Speech!”

Finally, after some urging, The Orphan slowly arose to his feet, a foolish smile playing about his lips.“It wasn’t anything,” he said deprecatingly. “You all would have done it, every one of you. But I’m glad it was me. I’m glad I was on hand, although it wasn’t anything to make all this fuss about,” and he dropped suddenly into his seat, feeling hot and uncomfortable.

“Well, we have different ideas about its being nothing,” replied the sheriff. “Now, boys, a toast to Bill Halloway,” he requested. “Bill couldn’t get here to-day, but we mustn’t forget him. His splendid grit and driving made it possible for our friend to play his hand so well.”

“Hurrah for Bill!” cried Silent, leaping to his feet with the others. When seated again he looked quickly at his glass and turned to Bud.

“Real sweet cider!” he exulted. “Good Lord, but how time gallops past! I’d almost forgotten what it was like! It’s been over twenty years since I tasted any! Ain’t it fine?”

“I was wondering what it was,” remarked Humble, a trace of awe in his voice as he refilled his glass. “It’s shore enough sweet cider, and blamed good, too!”

Charley was romping with the mail carrier and he had a sudden inspiration: “Speech from Joe! Speech for the pieces of pie and cake he’s due to get!”

“Now, look here, boy,” Joe gravely replied. “I’m the mail carrier. I don’t have to go on jury duty, lead religion round-ups, go to war or make speeches. As the books say, I’m exempt. All I have to do is punch cows, rustle the mail and eat pie and cake once a week,” he said, glancing at Bud, who glared and groaned.

“Good boy, Joe!” cried Humble, waving his glass excitedly. “You’re shore all right, you are, and I’m your deputy, ain’t I?”

“No, not my deputy, but my delirium,” corrected Joe.

“Glory be!” cried Silent as his plate was passed to him. “Chicken, real chicken! Mashed potatoes, mashed turnips and dressing and gravy! And here comes stewed corn, boiled onions and jelly and mother’s bread. And stewed tomatoes? Well, well! I guess we ain’t going to be well fed, and real happy, eh, fellows? My stomach won’t know what’s the matter–it’ll think it died and went to heaven by mistake. Holy smoke! It hurts my eyes. What, cranberry jam? Well, I’m just going to close my eyes for a minute if you don’t mind; I want to recuperate from the shock. This is where I live again!”

Humble stared in rapture at the feast before him and finally heaved a long drawn sigh of doubt and content.

“Gee!” he cried softly, a far-away look in his eyes. “Look at it, just look at it! Just like I used to get when I was a little tad back in Connecticut–but that was shore a long time ago. Well,” he exclaimed, bracing up and bravely forgetting his boyhood, “there’s one thing I hope, and that is that Lee beats my dog. Then I can shoot him and get square for all these years of imitation grub what he’s handed out to me!”

“Hey, Tom!” eagerly cried Charley, “why can’t we handle a herd of chickens out on the ranch, and have a garden? Why, we could have eggs every day and chickens on holidays!”

“No wonder Tom likes to ride to town,” laughed Silent. “Gee whiz, I’d walk it for pie and cake and real genuine coffee!”

“Walk it!” snorted Jim. “Huh, I’d crawl, and stand on my head, knock my feet together and crow every half mile! Walk it, huh!”

Merriment reigned supreme throughout the meal and when the bashfulness had worn off the conversation became fast and furious, abounding in terse wit, verbal attacks and clever counters, and in concentrated onslaughts against the unfortunate Humble, who soon found, however, a new and loyal champion in Miss Ritchie, who took his part. Her assistance was so doughty as to more than once put to rout his tormentors, and before the dessert had been reached he was her devoted slave and admirer and was henceforth to sing her praises at every opportunity, and even to make opportunities.

At The Orphan’s end of the table all was serene. He, Helen, Blake and the sheriff found much to talk about, and all the while Mrs. Shields regarded the four in a motherly way, and tempered the keenness of her husband’s wit, for he was prone to break lances with The Orphan and to tease his sister, much to her confusion. She was very happy, for here at her side were her husband and the man she had feared would harm him, laughing and joking and the best of friends; and down the table a crowd of big-hearted boys, her boys now, were having the time of their lives. They were good boys, too, she told herself; a trifle rough, but sterling at the heart, and every one of them a loyal friend. How good it was to see them eat and hear them laugh, all happy and mischievous. The welding of the units had been finished, and now the Star C and The Orphan were one in spirit.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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