“I am done with Benton, and with Benton’s society, madam,” I insisted. “I have learned my lesson, believe me, and I’m no longer a ‘gudgeon.’”
“You never were,” said she. “Not that. And you don’t have to turn bull-whacker or mule-skinner either. It’s a hard life; you’re not fitted for it—never, never. Leave Benton if you will. I hate it myself. And let us go together.”
“Madam!” I rapped; and drew back, but she clung to me.
“Listen, listen! Don’t mistake me again. Last night was enough. I want to go. I must go. We 150 can travel separately, then; I will meet you anywhere—Denver, Omaha, Chicago, New York, anywhere you say—anywhere——”
“Your husband, madam,” I prompted. “He might have objections to parting with you.”
“Montoyo? That snake—you fear that snake? He is no husband to me. I could kill him—I will do it yet, to be free from him.”
“My good name, then,” I taunted. “I might fear for my good name more than I’d fear a man.”
“I have a name of my own,” she flashed, “although you may not know it.”
“I have been made acquainted with it,” I answered roundly.
“No, you haven’t. Not the true. You know only another.” Her tone became humbler. “But I’m not asking you to marry me,” she said. “I’m not asking you to love me as a paramour, sir. Please understand. Treat me as you will; as a sister, a friend, but anything human. Only let me have your decent regard until I can get ’stablished in new quarters. I can help you,” she pursued eagerly. “Indeed I can help you if you stay in the West. Yes, anywhere, for I know life. Oh, I’m so tired of myself; I can’t run true, I’m under false colors. You saw how the trainmen curried favor all along the line, how familiar they were, how I submitted—I even dropped that coin a-purpose in the Omaha station, for you, just to test you. Those things are expected of me and I’ve felt 151 obliged to play my part. Men look upon me as a tool to their hands, to make them or break them. All they want is my patronage and the secrets of the gaming table. And there is Montoyo—bullying me, cajoling me, watching me. But you were different, after I had met you. I foolishly wished to help you, and last night the play went wrong. Why did I take you to his table? Because I think myself entitled, sir,” she said on, bridling a little, defiant of my gaze, “to promote my friends when I have any. I did not mean that you should wager heavily for you. Montoyo is out for large stakes. There is safety in small and I know his system. You remember I warned you? I did warn you. I saw too late. You shall have all your money back again. And Montoyo struck me—me, in public! That is the end. Oh, why couldn’t I have killed him? But if you stayed here, so should I. Not with him, though. Never with him. Maybe I’m talking wildly. You’ll say I’m in love with you. Perhaps I am—quién sabe? No matter as to that. I shall be no hanger-on, sir. I only ask a kind of partnership—the encouragement of some decent man near me. I have money; plenty, till we both get a footing. But you wouldn’t live on me; no! I don’t fancy that of you for a moment. I would be glad merely to tide you over, if you’d let me. And I—I’d be willing to wash floors in a restaurant if I might be free of insult. You, I’m sure, would at least protect me. Wouldn’t you? You would, wouldn’t you? Say something, 152 sir.” She paused, out of breath and aquiver. “Shall we go? Will you help me?”