And now you are a St. Ann's girl, a good little Catholic. How
did you ever get away up into Kansas Territory, anyhow?"
Beverly had unconsciously held the girl's hand as he spoke, but at the
mention of the Indian boy she drew back and her bright face became
expressionless.
Just then Mat Nivers joined us--Mat, whom the Lord made to smooth the
way for everybody around her--and we sat down for a visit.
"We are all here, friends of my youthful days," Beverly went on, gaily.
"Bill Banney and Jondo are down in the Clarenden warehouse packing
merchandise for the Santa Fe trade. Even big black Aunty Boone, getting
supper in there, is still a feature of this circus. If only that slim
Yankee, Rex Krane, would appear here now. Uncle Esmond tells me he is to
be here soon, and if all goes well he will go with us to Santa Fe again.
How about it, Mat? Can't you hurry his coming a bit?"
But Mat was staring at the roadway leading to the ravine below us. Her
wide gray eyes were full of eagerness and her cheeks were pink with
excitement. For, sure enough, there was Rex Krane striding up the hill,
with the easy swing of vigorous health. No longer the slender, slouching
young idol of my boyhood days, with Eastern cut of garment and
devil-may-care dejection of manner, all hiding a loving tenderness for
the unprotected, and a daring spirit that scorned danger.
Pages:
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201