“I’ve been takin’ after a girl. She was called Jane on Yarnall’s ranch an’ she was cook there for the outfit. Nobody knowed her story nor her name. She left the mornin’ I came in an’ I didn’t set eyes on her. You were takin’ her East to teach her to play-act for you. I don’t know whether you done so or not, but I’ve come here to learn where she is so that I can find out if she’s the woman I’m lookin’ for.”
Morena smiled kindly. “You’ve come a long way, Mr. Landis, on an uncertainty.”
“Yes, sir.” Pierre did not smile. He was holding himself steady. “But I’m used to uncertainty. There ain’t no uncertainty that can keep me from seekin’ after the person I want.” He paused, the eyes still fixed upon Morena, who, uncomfortable under them, veiled himself thinly in cigarette smoke. “I want to see this Jane,” Pierre ended gently.
“Nothing easier, Landis. I’ll give you a ticket to ‘The Leopardess.’ She is acting the title part. She is my leading lady and a very extraordinary young actress. Of course, it’s none of my business, but in a way I am Miss West’s guardian—”
“Miss West?”
“Yes. That is Jane’s name—Jane West. You think it is an assumed one?”
Pierre stood up. “I’m not thinkin’ on this trip,” he said; “I’m hopin’.”
“I am sorry, but I am afraid you’re on the wrong track. There may be a resemblance, there may even be a marked resemblance, between Miss West and the person you want to find, but—again please forgive me—I am in the place of guardian to her at present and I should like to know something of your business, enough of it, that is, to be sure that your sudden appearance, if you happen to be right in your surmise, won’t frighten my leading lady out of her wits and send her off to Kalamazoo on the next train.”
Pierre evidently resented the fashion of this speech. “I’m sorry,” he said with dignity, “not to be able to tell you anything. I’ll be careful not to frighten Miss West. I can see her first from a distance an’ then—”
“Certainly. Certainly.”