The girl came soon to the Holloman Gate, which swung across the trail near the west end of the mountain. Tall poplars and spruce made an ample shade, but a glance toward the sun showed it at the zenith. She was prompt to the rendezvous; it was the lover who was laggard. She wondered a little at that, but with no lightening of her mood. She was sure that he would come all too speedily. She stood waiting in misery, leaning listlessly against the fence, her gaze downcast. The geranium blossoms touched the sward richly with color; the rhododendrons flaunted the loveliness of their flowering round about the spot. A delicate medley of birds’ songs throbbed from out the thickets; a tiny stream purled over its pebbled bed in the ravine that entrenched the trail. Plutina gave no heed. She saw and she heard, but, in this hour, she was without response to any charm of sight or of sound. Yet, that she was alert was proven presently, for 157 her ear caught the faint crackle of a twig snapping. It was a little way off—somewhere along the line of the brush-grown fence, on the same side of the trail. She peered steadily in the direction of the noise. When her eyes became accustomed to the shadows, she made out the figure of a man, crouched in a corner of the fence, behind the screen of a bush. He was no more than three or four rods from her. She was sure even that she recognized him—Gary Hawks, one of the most vicious of the Hodges gang, but notorious for cowardice. She was puzzled for only a moment by the presence of the fellow. Then, she realized that he doubtless was acting under his leader’s orders. It was another menace against her own safety. The fingers of her hand went once again for encouragement to the holster beneath her arm.
Plutina gave no sign that she had discovered the lurking man’s presence. But, after a minute, she retraced her steps a little way along the trail, until she came to a point where there was a clear space on either side, which was out of hearing from the fence line. She had scarcely reached the place, when Hodges appeared, his bare feet trudging swiftly. His head, too, was bare. In the hollow of his left arm lay the long rifle. He was approaching from the east, and halted at the gate, without having observed the girl beyond it. He whistled a 158 soft note as a signal if she should be anywhere about.
Plutina called out softly in answer.
“Hyar, Dan!” As he looked toward her, she beckoned him to approach.
Hodges shook his head in dissent, and, by a gesture, bade her come to him. But, when she showed no sign of obeying, he moved forward, scowling, ferociously. The girl seemed undaunted. She spoke curtly in rebuke:
“’Pears to me, Dan Hodges, like ye hain’t very prompt, seein’ as how I’ve been a-waiting hyar a quarter-hour fer ye. When a man loves a gal, he gen’rally gits to the place sot ahead o’ her. Ye hain’t a-startin’ right to win me, Dan, an’ so I’m a-tellin’ ye fair.”
“You-all orter have more sense than hang out hyar in the sun. Come back to the gate, under the shade o’ the sarvis bushes.” He turned away, but paused as the girl made no movement to follow. “What in hell’s the matter on ye?” he demanded, angrily. “This place in the rud hain’t fitten fer talk, nohow.”
“Hit’s fitten ’nough fer me,” Plutina retorted, quietly. A mellow laugh sounded. “Seems to me this-hyar bright sunshine orter warm yer love up some, Dan. We’ll stay hyar, I reckon. I’m afeared 159 o’ snakes an’ eavesdroppers an’ sech critters thar in the shade.”
The man was racked by many emotions. He had come swiftly under the hot sun, and the haste and the heat had irritated him. The sight of the girl moved him to fierce passion of desire. He was aflame with eagerness to take her within his arms, there where were the cool shadows. Her indifference to his command exasperated him; her final refusal infuriated him. In the rush of feeling he lost what little judgment he might otherwise have had. He had meant to placate her by a temporary gentleness, to be offset by future brutalities. Now, in his rage, he forgot discretion under the pricking of lawless impulse. He reached out and dropped a huge hand on Plutina’s shoulder, and twisted her about with a strength she was powerless to resist. The clutch of his fingers cut cruelly into her flesh, firm though it was, and she winced. He grinned malevolently.
“Git back thar as I done tol’ ye,” he rasped; “afore ye git wuss.”