“Ten miles is a long trip when one hasn’t had a drink in about seven hours,” said Charmian. Then she wheeled upon the comical figure that had followed the burro into camp.
“Your burro shall have all the water she needs,” she promised him. “And you may fill up your bags, if you have any. I’m Mrs. Charmian Reemy, of San Francisco, and this lady is my companion, Miss Mary Temple. These two gentlemen are Doctor Shonto and Mr. Jerome, of Los Angeles. You know the others, it seems. We’re here to investigate their opal claims.”
The man was tall, and his bronzed face was covered with ragged brown whiskers. His eyes were large and blue and innocent-looking. His clothes were far too large for him, enormous though his body was. Quaintness stood out all over him.
“I’m reg’lar glad to meet ye, ma’am,” he grinned, bowing profoundly. “And, lady”—he made another impressive bow to Mary—“the same to you.” He turned to Dr. Shonto and Andy. “Gentle-men,” he said, and bent nearly double again. “I am Shirttail Henry. They call me Shirttail because I live at Shirttail Bend, which is a hairpin curve in th’ trail that leads from these here buttes here to the meadows up on top o’ the mountains. My right name’s Henry Richkirk, an’ I ain’t a nuisance in these parts, if I do say it myself. But I could name some that are, though I wouldn’t. You,” he continued, swinging back toward Charmian as if the wind had caught his fluttery garments and whisked him about, “are a gorgeous pretty girl, an’ seein’ ye stood up for Lot’s Wife, I guess ye’re perfect. If ye wanta make Shirttail Henry your friend, stand up f’r Lot’s Wife. Ye done it, an’ I’ll tell ye somethin’ about opals before ye go any furder. Shirttail Henry knows th’ stones that’ve caught the colours o’ the rainbow. An’ he knows how they get them colours. Ye stood up f’r Lot’s Wife, an’ Shirttail Henry’s gonta stand up f’r you. Nuisance, eh! Well—”
But here Smith Morley and Omar Leach leaped upon the man, and together they bore him, fighting, to the ground.
“He’s crazy, Mrs. Reemy,” puffed Leach, struggling to keep the big man on his back. “Crazy as a roadrunner. Dangerous, too! He’s lived in this country all alone too long—and he’s—”
At this point Dr. Inman Shonto and Andy Jerome took a hand in the rough proceedings.
CHAPTER VIII
MISSING
DESPITE the fact that there were two against him, the curious man from the mountains needed little aid. He was a powerful Cyclops, and his columnar arms flailed out to right and left as he fought on his back like a ’coon. He might have pounded off his enemies and gained his feet alone in time. But Andy had grabbed the coat collar of Omar Leach, and Dr. Shonto, himself a snarl of sinewy muscles, was in like manner dragging Smith Morley from the prostrate mountaineer. Charmian Reemy, biting her lips, looked on without a word. Mary observed proceedings with an acidulous smile, which might have signified any one of several primitive emotions.
While the doctor and Andy held the prospectors off, Shirttail Henry bounded to his feet and broadcasted a wide grin about the circle.