But to Lyster, Dan with his arms filled with female trappings and a lot of pink zephyr blown about his face and streaming over his shoulder, like a veritable banner of Love’s color, was a picture too ludicrous to be lost. He gazed after them in a fit of delight that seemed likely to end in apoplexy, because he was obliged to keep his hilarity silent.
“Just look at him!” he advised, in tones akin to a stage whisper. “Isn’t he a great old Dan? And maybe you think he would not promenade beside that make-up just as readily on Broadway, New York, or on Chestnut street, Philadelphia? Well, sir, he would! If it was necessary that some man should go with her, he would be the man to go, and Heaven help anybody he saw laughing! If you knew Dan Overton twenty years you would not see anything that would give you a better key to his nature than just his manner of acting cavalier to that—wonder.”
But Mr. Haydon did not appear to appreciate the scene with the same degree of fervor.
“Ah!” he said, turning his eyes with indifference to the two figures, and with scrutiny over the little camp-site and primitive dwellings. “Am I to understand, then, that your friend, the ranger, is a sort of modern Don Juan, to whom any order of femininity is acceptable?”
“No,” said Lyster, facing about suddenly. “And if my thoughtless manner of speech would convey such an idea of Dan Overton, then (to borrow one of Dan’s 188 own expressions) I deserve to be kicked around God’s footstool for a while.”
“Well, when you speak of his devotion to any sort of specimen—”
“Of course,” agreed Lyster. “I see my words were misleading—especially to one unaccustomed to the life and people out here. But Dan, as Don Juan, is one of the most unimaginable things! Why, he does not seem to know women exist as individuals. This is the only fault I have to find with him; for the man who does not care for some woman, or never has cared for any woman, is, according to my philosophy, no good on earth. But Dan just looks the other way if they commence to give him sweet glances—and they do, too! though he thinks that collectively they are all angels. Yes, sir! let the worst old harridan that ever was come to Overton with a tale of virtue and misfortune, and he will take off his hat and divide up his money, giving her a good share, just because she happens to be a woman. That is the sort of devotion to women I had reference to when I spoke first; the wonder to me is that he has not been caught in a matrimonial noose long ere this by some thrifty maid or matron. He seems to me guileless game for them, as his sympathy is always so easily touched.”
“Perhaps he is keeping free from bonds that he may marry this ward of his for whom he appears so troubled,” remarked Mr. Haydon.
Lyster looked anything but pleased at the suggestion.
“I don’t think he would like to hear that said,” he returned. “’Tana is only a little girl in his eyes—one left in his charge at the death of her own people, and one who appeals to him very strongly just now because of her helplessness.” 189