"Come on," said Hope, interrupting and taking her by the arm. "Lord or no lord, you'll never get any supper if you don't hurry up!" Her face had gone from red to white. She took Clarice by the arm and led her up to the buggy. "This is Mrs. Van Rensselaer, Mr. Livingston," she said quickly, before that lady could speak, then turned abruptly about and went to the stable for the saddle-horses.
Livingston helped Mrs. Van Rensselaer into the buggy, while Louisa ran after Hope, quickly overtaking her.
"She says he hass a vife. I don't belief her!" she exclaimed indignantly, linking her arm through Hope's. "Don't you belief her eider!"
"I must believe it, little Louisa, because it is true!" said Hope. "But if it were not true, if it were not true, I think I should be mad with happiness at this moment!"
CHAPTER XXV
In a short time the horses were saddled and the two girls dashed past the stable buildings and the rough assortment of men who stood silently about, past their watchful, alert eyes, on after the buggy, which had now become a mere speck high up on the mountain road. As they raced by the house and tepees the boy, Ned, cautiously raised his small body from behind a pile of logs which edged the road and beckoned to them frantically. Hope's quick eye saw him, but only as the flash of a moving picture across her mind, leaving no impression and instantly forgotten. But later, when she had entered the cook-tent at Sydney's camp and seated herself among the small company, the memory of the passing vision came back, annoying, troubling her. She scented danger more than she felt it. A sense of uneasiness possessed her. She condemned herself roundly for the wild thoughts that had carried her away from herself, and would have given much at that moment to have known what the breed boy had wanted to commune to her.
Clarice was chatting volubly to Livingston. Sydney leaned upon the table, listening attentively. Outside, old Jim McCullen was staking out the saddle-horses, while about the stove and mess-box William, the cook, flitted in great importance. Sydney jumped up from the table when the two girls entered and arranged some extra seats for them, then took one himself beside Louisa, who flushed prettily at his attentions.
"We beat you by fifteen minutes!" exclaimed Mrs. Van Rensselaer, breaking off from her conversation abruptly. "But we just came along spinning. And I must tell you that I'm perfectly happy now, and don't regret coming one bit! Just think, isn't this luck—Mr. Livingston has promised to take me back to the ranch to-morrow, or whenever I decide to return! And you should see what a splendid dinner we are going to have! After all, I'm coming out the best in the deal—in spite of Jim's 'didn't I tell you,' and Hope's 'what made you come.' This is a regular taste of the real West—wild and rugged! You don't get it at the ranch—luxurious quarters, Chinese servants everywhere, even the people especially imported. You might as well be in New York for everything except the climate. This is great—this little gulch here and these fresh, sweet tents; but horrors, that place back there! Isn't there any way to go around it when we go back to the ranch, Mr. Livingston? I don't want even to catch sight of it. I never saw such a lot of looking men in all my life!"
They all laughed at the look of abject horror which she put upon her face—all with the exception of Hope, who sat silently in the shadow of Louisa and Sydney.