Overland Red. Henry Herbert Knibbs

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СКАЧАТЬ ain't used to—to real ladies," apologized Overland. "We could do better if we practiced up."

      "Of course!" said Louise, smiling. "But the poetry."

      "U-m-m, yes. The po'try. What'll I give her, Collie?"

      "I don't care," replied the boy. "You might try 'Casey Jones.' It's better'n anything you ever wrote."

      "That? I guess not! That ain't her style. I mean one of my own—somethin' good."

      "Oh, I don't know. 'Toledo Blake,'" mumbled Collie.

      "Nope! But I guess the 'Grand Old Privilege' will do for a starter."

      "Oh, good!" And Louise clapped her hands. "The title is splendid. Is the poem original?"

      The tramp bowed a trifle haughtily. "Original? Me life's work, lady." And he awkwardly essayed to button a buttonless coat, coughed, waved his half-consumed cigarette toward the skies, and began:—

      "Folks say we got no morals—that they all fell in the soup;

       And no conscience—so the would-be goodies say;

       And I guess our good intentions did jest up and flew the coop, While we stood around and watched 'em fade away. "But there's one thing that we're lovin' more than money, grub, or booze, Or even decent folks that speaks us fair; And that's the Grand Old Privilege to chuck our luck and choose, Any road at any time for any where."

      And Overland, his hand above his heart, bowed effusively.

      "I like 'would-be goodies,'" said Louise. "Sounds just like a mussy, sticky cookie that's too sweet. And 'Any road at any time for any where—' I think that is real."

      Overland puffed his chest and cleared his throat. "I can't help it, Miss. Born that way. Cut my first tooth on a book of pomes ma got for a premium with Mustang Liniment."

      "Well, thank you." And Louise nodded gayly. "Keep the tobacco and papers to remember me by. I must go."

      "We don't need them to remember you by," said Overland gallantly. Then the smile suddenly left his face.

      Down the Old Meadow Trail, unseen by the girl and the boy, rode a single horseman, and something at his hip glinted in the sun. Overland's hand went to his own hip. Then he shrugged his shoulders, and slowly recovered himself. "What's the use?" he muttered.

      But there was that in his tone which brought Collie's head up. The lad pushed back his battered felt hat and ran his fingers through his wavy black hair, perplexedly. "What's the matter, Red? What's the matter?"

      "Nothin'. Jest thinkin'." Yet the tramp's eyes narrowed as he glanced furtively past the girl to where Boyar, the black pony, grazed in the meadow.

      Louise, puzzled by something familiar in the boy's upturned, questioning face, raised one gauntleted hand to her lips. "Why, you're the boy I saw, out on the desert, two years ago. Weren't you lying by a water-tank when our train stopped and a man was kneeling beside you pouring water on your face? Aren't you that boy?"

      "Yes!" exclaimed Collie, getting to his feet. "Red told me about you, too."

      "Yes, it's her," muttered Overland, nodding to himself.

      "And you chucked a rose out of the window to us?" said the boy. "Overland said she did."

      "Yes. It's her, the Rose-Lady Girl," said Overland. "Some of the folks in the train laughed when I picked up the rose. I remember. Some one else says, 'They're only tramps.' I recollect that, too."

      "But those men were arrested at Barstow, for murder, Uncle Walter said."

      Again Overland Red nodded. "They was, Miss. But they couldn't prove nothin', so they let us go."

      "We always was goin' to say thanks to the girl with the rose if we ever seen her," said the boy Collie. "We ain't had such a lot of roses give to us."

      "So we says it now," said Overland quickly. "Or mebby we wouldn't never have another chance." Then he slowly rolled another cigarette.

      Just then the black pony Boyar nickered. He recognized a friend entering the meadow.

      Overland lighted his cigarette. As he straightened up, Louise was surprised to see him thrust both hands above his head while he continued smoking placidly. "Excuse me, Miss," he said, turning the cigarette round with his lips; "but the gent behind you with the gun has got the drop on me. I guess he's waitin' for you to step out of range."

      Louise turned swiftly. Dick Tenlow, deputy sheriff, nodded good-morning to her, but kept his gun trained on the tramp.

      "Just step out from behind that rock," said Tenlow, addressing Overland.

      "Don't know as I will," replied the tramp. "You're no gentleman; you didn't say 'please.'"

      "Come on! No bluff like that goes here," said the deputy.

      "Can't you see I ain't finished smokin' yet?" queried Overland.

      "Come on! Step along!"

      "No way to address a gent, you Johnny. Say, I'll tell you now before you fall down and shoot yourself. Do you think you got me because you rode up while I was talkin' to a lady, and butted into polite conversation like a drunk Swede at a dance? Say, you think I'd 'a' ever let you got this far if there hadn't been a lady present? Why, you little nickle-plated, rubber-eared policeman, I was doin' the double roll with a pair of Colts .45's when you was learnin' the taste of milk!"

      "That'll be about all for you," said the sheriff, grinning.

      "No, it ain't. You ain't takin' me serious, and there's where you're makin' your mistake. I'm touchy about some things, Mr. Pussy-foot. I could 'a' got you three times while you was ridin' down that trail, and I wouldn't 'a' had to stop talkin' to do it. And you with that little old gun out before you even seen me!"

      "Why didn't you, then?" asked Tenlow, restraining his anger; for Louise, in spite of herself, had smiled at Overland's somewhat picturesque resentment. "Why didn't you, then?"

      "Huh!" snorted Overland scornfully. "Do you suppose I'd start anything with a lady around? That ain't my style. You're a kid. You'll get hurt some day."

      Deputy Tenlow scowled. He was a big man, slow of tongue, ordinarily genial, and proverbially stupid. He knew the tramp was endeavoring to anger him. The deputy turned to Louise. "Sorry, Miss Lacharme, but I got to take him."

      "There's really nothing to hinder, is there?" Louise asked sweetly.

CHAPTER V

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"CAN HE RIDE?"

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      The tramp glanced up, addressing СКАЧАТЬ