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shield;〃 his lance; and 〃uncontrolled crest。〃



Nevertheless; the warlike teamster was not without embarrassment。

Muttering something about the necessity of 〃looking after his

stock;〃 he achieved a hesitating bow; backed awkwardly out of the

door; and receiving from the conquering hands of the young girl his

weapons again; was obliged to carry them somewhat ingloriously in

his hands across the road; and put them on the wagon seat; where; in

company with the culinary articles; they seemed to lose their

distinctively aggressive character。  Here; although his cheek was

still flushed from his peaceful encounter; his voice regained some

of its hoarse severity as he drove the oxen from the muddy pool into

which they had luxuriantly wandered; and brought their fodder from

the wagon。  Later; as the sun was setting; he lit a corn…cob pipe;

and somewhat ostentatiously strolled down the road; with a furtive

eye lingering upon the still open door of the farmhouse。  Presently

two angular figures appeared from it; the farmer and his wife;

intent on barter。



These he received with his previous gloomy preoccupation; and a

slight variation of the story he had told their daughter。  It is

possible that his suggestive indifference piqued and heightened the

bargaining instincts of the woman; for she not only bought the

skillet; but purchased a clock and a roll of carpeting。  Still more;

in some effusion of rustic courtesy; she extended an invitation to

him to sup with them; which he declined and accepted in the same

embarrassed breath; returning the proffered hospitality by

confidentially showing them a couple of dried scalps; presumably of

Indian origin。  It was in the same moment of human weakness that he

answered their polite query as to 〃what they might call him;〃 by

intimating that his name was 〃Red Jim;〃a title of achievement by

which he was generally known; which for the present must suffice

them。  But during the repast that followed this was shortened to

〃Mister Jim;〃 and even familiarly by the elders to plain 〃Jim。〃

Only the young girl habitually used the formal prefix in return for

the 〃Miss Phoebe〃 that he called her。



With three such sympathetic and unexperienced auditors the gloomy

embarrassment of Red Jim was soon dissipated; although it could

hardly be said that he was generally communicative。  Dark tales of

Indian warfare; of night attacks and wild stampedes; in which he had

always taken a prominent part; flowed freely from his lips; but

little else of his past history or present prospects。  And even his

narratives of adventure were more or less fragmentary and imperfect

in detail。



〃You woz saying;〃 said the farmer; with slow; matter of fact; New

England deliberation; 〃ez how you guessed you woz beguiled amongst

the Injins by your Mexican partner; a pow'ful influential man; and

yet you woz the only one escaped the gen'ral slarterin'。  How came

the Injins to kill HIM;their friend?〃



〃They didn't;〃 returned Jim; with ominously averted eyes。



〃What became of him?〃 continued the farmer。



Red Jim shadowed his eyes with his hand; and cast a dark glance of

scrutiny out of the doors and windows。  The young girl perceived it

with timid; fascinated concern; and said hurriedly:



〃Don't ask him; father!  Don't you see he mustn't tell?〃



〃Not when spies may be hangin' round; and doggin' me at every step;〃

said Red Jim; as if reflecting; with another furtive glance towards

the already fading prospect without。  〃They've sworn to revenge

him;〃 he added moodily。



A momentary silence followed。  The farmer coughed slightly; and

looked dubiously at his wife。  But the two women had already

exchanged feminine glances of sympathy for this evident slayer of

traitors; and were apparently inclined to stop any adverse

criticism。



In the midst of which a shout was heard from the road。  The farmer

and his family instinctively started。  Red Jim alone remained

unmoved;a fact which did not lessen the admiration of his feminine

audience。  The host rose quickly; and went out。  The figure of a

horseman had halted in the road; but after a few moments'

conversation with the farmer they both moved towards the house and

disappeared。  When the farmer returned; it was to say that 〃one of

them 'Frisco dandies; who didn't keer about stoppin' at the hotel

in the settlement;〃 had halted to give his 〃critter〃 a feed and

drink that he might continue his journey。  He had asked him to come

in while the horse was feeding; but the stranger had 〃guessed he'd

stretch his legs outside and smoke his cigar;〃 he might have thought

the company 〃not fine enough for him;〃 but he was 〃civil spoken

enough; and had an all…fired smart hoss; and seemed to know how to

run him。〃  To the anxious inquiries of his wife and daughter he

added that the stranger didn't seem like a spy or a Mexican; was 〃as

young as HIM;〃 pointing to the moody Red Jim; 〃and a darned sight

more peaceful…like in style。〃



Perhaps owing to the criticism of the farmer; perhaps from some

still lurking suspicion of being overheard by eavesdroppers; or

possibly from a humane desire to relieve the strained apprehension

of the women; Red Jim; as the farmer disappeared to rejoin the

stranger; again dropped into a lighter and gentler vein of

reminiscence。  He told them how; when a mere boy; he had been lost

from an emigrant train in company with a little girl some years his

junior。  How; when they found themselves alone on the desolate

plain; with the vanished train beyond their reach; he endeavored to

keep the child from a knowledge of the real danger of their

position; and to soothe and comfort her。  How he carried her on his

back; until; exhausted; he sank in a heap of sage…brush。  How he was

surrounded by Indians; who; however; never suspected his hiding…

place; and how he remained motionless and breathless with the

sleeping child for three hours; until they departed。  How; at the

last moment; he had perceived a train in the distance; and had

staggered with her thither; although shot at and wounded by the

trainmen in the belief that he was an Indian。  How it was afterwards

discovered that the child was the long…lost daughter of a

millionaire; how he had resolutely refused any gratuity for saving

her; and she was now a peerless young heiress; famous in California。

Whether this lighter tone of narrative suited him better; or whether

the active feminine sympathy of his auditors helped him along;

certain it was that his story was more coherent and intelligible and

his voice less hoarse and constrained than in his previous

belligerent reminiscences; his expression changed; and even his

features worked into something like gentler emotion。  The bright

eyes of Phoebe; fastened upon him; turned dim with a faint moisture;

and her pale cheek took upon itself a little color。  The mother;

after interjecting 〃Du tell;〃 and 〃I wanter know;〃 remained open…

mouthed; staring at her visitor。  And in the silence that followed;

a pleasant; but somewhat melancholy voice came from the open door。



〃I beg your pardon; but I thought I couldn’t be mistaken。  It IS my

old friend; Jim Hooker!〃



Everybody started。  Red Jim stumbled to his feet with an

inarticulate and hysteric exclamation。  Yet the apparition that now

stood in the doorway was far from being terrifying or discomposing。

It was evidently the stranger;a slender; elegantly…knit figure;

whose upper lip was faintly shadowed by a soft; dark mustache

indicating early manhood; and whose unstudied ease in his well…

fitting garments bespoke the dweller of cities。  Good…looking and

well…dressed; without the consciousness of being either; self…

possessed through easy circumstances; yet without self…assertion;

courteous by nature and instinct as well as from an experience of

granting favors; he might have been a welcome addition to even a

more critical company。  But Red Jim; hurriedly seizing his

outstretched hand; instantly dragged him away from the doorway into

the road and out of hearing of his audience。



〃Did you hear what I was saying?〃 he asked hoarsely。



〃Well; yes;I think so;〃 returned the stranger; with a quiet smile。



〃Ye ain't goin' back on me; Clarence; are ye;ain't goin' to gimme

away afore them; old pard; are ye?〃 said Jim; with a sudden change

to almost pathetic pleading。



〃No;〃 returned the stranger; smiling。  〃And certainly not before

that interested young lady; Jim。  But stop。  Let me look at you。〃



He held out both hands; took Jim's; spread them apart for a moment

with a boyish gesture; and; looking in his face; said half

mischievously; half sadly; 〃Yes; it's the same old Jim Hooker;

unchanged。〃



〃But YOU'RE changed;reg'lar war paint; Big Injin style!〃 said

Hooker; looking up at him with an awkward mingling of admiration and

envy。  〃Heard you struck it rich with the old man; and was Mister

Brant now!〃



〃Yes;〃 said 

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