"You see, ma'am, I had a little hole in the ground--a dinky, hydraulic, one-horse outfit of a mine.And when the Setliffe crowd shook down Idaho, and reorganized the smelter trust, and roped in the rest of the landscape, and put through the big hydraulic scheme at Twin Pines, why I sure got squeezed.Inever had a run for my money.I was scratched off the card before the first heat.And so, to-night, being broke and my friend needing me bad, I just dropped around to make a raise outa your pa.Seeing as I needed it, it kinda was coming to me.""Granting all that you say is so," she said, "nevertheless it does not make house-breaking any the less house-breaking.You couldn't make such a defense in a court of law.""I know that," he confessed meekly."What's right ain't always legal.And that's why I am so uncomfortable a-settin' here and talking with you.Not that I ain't enjoying your company--Isure do enjoy it--but I just can't afford to be caught.I know what they'd do to me in this here city.There was a young fellow that got fifty years only last week for holding a man up on the street for two dollars and eighty-five cents.I read about it in the paper.When times is hard and they ain't no work, men get desperate.And then the other men who've got something to be robbed of get desperate, too, and they just sure soak it to the other fellows.If I got caught, I reckon Iwouldn't get a mite less than ten years.That's why I'm hankering to be on my way.""No; wait." She lifted a detaining hand, at the same time removing her foot from the bell, which she had been pressing intermittently."You haven't told me your name yet."He hesitated.
"Call me Dave."
"Then...Dave," she laughed with pretty confusion.
"Something must be done for you.You are a young man, and you are just at the beginning of a bad start.If you begin by attempting to collect what you think is coming to you, later on you will be collecting what you are perfectly sure isn't coming to you.And you know what the end will be.Instead of this, we must find something honorable for you to do.""I need the money, and I need it now," he replied doggedly.
"It's not for myself, but for that friend I told you about.
He's in a peck of trouble, and he's got to get his lift now or not at all.""I can find you a position," she said quickly."And--yes, the very thing!--I'll lend you the money you want to send to your friend.This you can pay back out of your salary.""About three hundred would do," he said slowly."Three hundred would pull him through.I'd work my fingers off for a year for that, and my keep, and a few cents to buy Bull Durham with.""Ah! You smoke! I never thought of it."
Her hand went out over the revolver toward his hand, as she pointed to the tell-tale yellow stain on his fingers.At the same time her eyes measured the nearness of her own hand and of his to the weapon.She ached to grip it in one swift movement.
She was sure she could do it, and yet she was not sure; and so it was that she refrained as she withdrew her hand.
"Won't you smoke?" she invited.
"I'm 'most dying to."
"Then do so.I don't mind.I really like it--cigarettes, Imean."
With his left band he dipped into his side pocket, brought out a loose wheat-straw paper and shifted it to his right hand close by the revolver.Again he dipped, transferring to the paper a pinch of brown, flaky tobacco.Then he proceeded, both hands just over the revolver, to roll the cigarette.
"From the way you hover close to that nasty weapon, you seem to be afraid of me," she challenged.
"Not exactly afraid of you, ma'am, but, under the circumstances, just a mite timid.""But I've not been afraid of you."
"You've got nothing to lose."
"My life," she retorted.
"That's right," he acknowledged promptly, "and you ain't been scairt of me.Mebbe I am over anxious.""I wouldn't cause you any harm."
Even as she spoke, her slipper felt for the bell and pressed it.At the same time her eyes were earnest with a plea of honesty.
"You are a judge of men.I know it.And of women.Surely, when I am trying to persuade you from a criminal life and to get you honest work to do....?"He was immediately contrite.
"I sure beg your pardon, ma'am," he said."I reckon my nervousness ain't complimentary."As he spoke, he drew his right hand from the table, and after lighting the cigarette, dropped it by his side.
"Thank you for your confidence," she breathed softly, resolutely keeping her eyes from measuring the distance to the revolver, and keeping her foot pressed firmly on the bell.
"About that three hundred," he began."I can telegraph it West to-night.And I'll agree to work a year for it and my keep.""You will earn more than that.I can promise seventy-five dollars a month at the least.Do you know horses?"His face lighted up and his eyes sparkled.
"Then go to work for me--or for my father, rather, though Iengage all the servants.I need a second coachman--""And wear a uniform?" he interrupted sharply, the sneer of the free-born West in his voice and on his lips.
She smiled tolerantly.
"Evidently that won't do.Let me think.Yes.Can you break and handle colts?"He nodded.
"We have a stock farm, and there's room for just such a man as you.Will you take it?""Will I, ma'am?" His voice was rich with gratitude and enthusiasm."Show me to it.I'll dig right in to-morrow.And Ican sure promise you one thing, ma'am.You'll never be sorry for lending Hughie Luke a hand in his trouble--""I thought you said to call you Dave," she chided forgivingly.
