“Danny Mains!” she said, tremulously and smilingly. “If you are as glad as your news has made me—if you really think I merit such a reward—you may kiss me outright.”
With a bashful wonder, but with right hearty will, Danny Mains availed himself of this gracious privilege. Stillwell snorted. The signs of his phenomenal smile were manifest, otherwise Madeline would have thought that snort an indication of furious disapproval.
“Bill, straddle a chair,” said Danny. “You’ve gone back a heap these last few months, frettin’ over your bad boys, Danny an’ Gene. You’ll need support under you while I’m throwin’ my yarn. Story of my life, Bill.” He placed a chair for Madeline. “Miss Hammond, beggin’ your pardon again, I want you to listen, also. You’ve the face an’ eyes of a woman who loves to hear of other people’s happiness. Besides, somehow, it’s easy for me to talk lookin’ at you.”
His manner subtly changed then. Possibly it took on a little swagger; certainly he lost the dignity that he had shown under stress of feeling; he was now more like a cowboy about to boast or affect some stunning maneuver. Walking off the porch, he stood before the weary horse and burro.
“Played out!” he exclaimed.
Then with the swift violence so characteristic of men of his class he slipped the pack from the burro and threw saddle and bridle from the horse.
“There! See ’em! Take a look at the last dog-gone weight you ever packed! You’ve been some faithful to Danny Mains. An’ Danny Mains pays! Never a saddle again or a strap or a halter or a hobble so long as you live! So long as you live nothin’ but grass an’ clover, an’ cool water in shady places, an’ dusty swales to roll in an’ rest an’ sleep!”
Then he untied the pack and, taking a small, heavy sack from it, he came back upon the porch. Deliberately he dumped the contents of the sack at Stillwell’s feet. Piece after piece of rock thumped upon the floor. The pieces were sharp, ragged, evidently broken from a ledge; the body of them was white in color, with yellow veins and bars and streaks. Stillwell grasped up one rock after another, stared and stuttered, put the rocks to his lips, dug into them with his shaking fingers; then he lay back in his chair, head against the wall, and as he gaped at Danny the old smile began to transform his face.
“Lord, Danny if you hevn’t been an’ gone an’ struck it rich!”
Danny regarded Stillwell with lofty condescension.