THE RIDE UP THE BOW
Having once agreed to the proposal of a ride up the Bow, the doctor lost no time in making the necessary preparations.Half an hour later he found himself in the stable consulting with Billy.His mood was gloomy and his language reflected his mood.Gladly would he have escaped what to him, he felt, would be a trying and prolonged ordeal.But he could not do this without exciting the surprise of his friends and possibly wounding the sensitive girl whom he would gladly give his life to serve.He resolved that at all costs he would go through with the thing.
"I'll give her a good time, by Jingo! if I bust something," he muttered as he walked up and down the stable picking out his mounts."But for a compound, double-opposed, self-adjusting jackass, I'm your choice.Lost my first chance.Threw it clean away and queered myself with her first shot.I say, Billy," he called, "come here.""What's up, Doc?" said Billy.
"Kick me, Billy," said the doctor solemnly.
"Well now, Doc, I--"
"Kick me, Billy, good and swift."
"Don't believe I could give no satisfaction, Doc.But there's that Hiram mule, he's a high class artist.You might back up to him.""No use being kicked, Billy, by something that wouldn't appreciate it," said Martin.
"Don't guess that way, Doc.He's an ornery cuss, he'd appreciate it all right, that old mule.But Doc, what's eatin' you?""Oh, nothing, Billy, except that I'm an ass, an infernal ass.""An ass, eh? Then I guess I couldn't give you no satisfaction.
You better try that mule."
"Well, Billy, the horses at two," said the doctor briskly, "the broncho and that dandy little pinto.""All serene, Doc.Hope you'll have a good time.Brace up, Doc, it's comin' to you." Billy's wink conveyed infinitely more than his words.
"Look here, Billy, you cut that all out," said the doctor.
"All right, Doc, if that's the way you feel.You'll see no monkey-work on me.I'll make a preacher look like a sideshow."And truly Billy's manner was irreproachable as he stood with the ponies at the hotel door and helped their riders to mount.There was an almost sad gravity in his demeanor that suggested a mind preoccupied with solemn and unworldly thoughts with which the doctor and his affairs had not even the remotest association.
As Cameron who, with his wife, watched their departure from the balcony above, waved them farewell, he cried, "Keep your eyes skinned for an Indian, Martin.Bring him in if you find him.""I've got no gun on me," replied the doctor, "and if I get sight of him, you hear me, I'll make for the timber quick.No heroic captures for me this trip.""What is all this about the Indian, Dr.Martin?" inquired the girl at his side as they cantered down the street.
"Didn't your brother tell you?"
"No."
"Well, I've done enough to you with that Indian already to-day.""To me?"
"Didn't I like a fool frighten you nearly to death with him?""Well, I was startled.I was silly to show it.But an Indian to an Old Country person familiar with Fenimore Cooper, well--""Oh, I was a proper idiot all round this morning," grumbled the doctor."I didn't know what I was doing."The brown eyes were open wide upon him.
"You see," continued the doctor desperately, "I'd looked forward to meeting you for so long." The brown eyes grew wider."And then to think that I actually didn't know you.""You didn't look at me," cried Moira.
"No, I was looking for the girl I saw that day, almost three years ago, in the Glen.I have never forgotten that day.""No, nor I," replied the girl softly."That is how I knew you.It was a terrible day to us all in the Glen, my brother going to leave us and under that dreadful cloud, and you came with the letter that cleared it all away.Oh, it was like the coming of an angel from heaven, and I have often thought, Mr.Martin--Dr.Martin you are now, of course--that I never thanked you as I ought that day.Iwas thinking of Allan.I have often wished to do it.I should like to do it now.""Get at it," cried the doctor with great emphasis, "I need it.It might help me a bit.I behaved so stupidly this morning.The truth is, I was completely knocked out, flabbergasted.""Was that it?" cried Moira with a bright smile."I thought--" Afaint color tinged her pale cheek and she paused a moment."But tell me about the Indian.My brother just made little of it.It is his way with me.He thinks me just a little girl not to be trusted with things.""He doesn't know you, then," said the doctor.
She laughed gayly."And do you?"
"I know you better than that, at least."
"What can you know about me?"
"I know you are to be trusted with that or with anything else that calls for nerve.Besides, sooner or later you must know about this Indian.Wait till we cross the bridge and reach the top of the hill yonder, it will be better going."The hillside gave them a stiff scramble, for the trail went straight up.But the sure-footed ponies, scrambling over stones and gravel, reached the top safely, with no worse result than an obvious disarrangement of the girl's hair, so that around the Scotch bonnet which she had pinned on her head the little brown curls were peeping in a way that quite shook the heart of Dr.
Martin.
"Now you look a little more like yourself," he cried, his eyes fastened upon the curls with unmistakable admiration, "more like the girl I remember.""Oh," she said, "it is my bonnet.I put on this old thing for the ride.""No," said the doctor, "you wore no bonnet that day.It is your face, your hair, you are not quite--so--so proper.""My hair!" Her hands went up to her head."Oh, my silly curls, Isuppose.They are my bane." ("My joy," the doctor nearly had said.) "But now for the Indian story."Then the doctor grew grave.
