CHAPTER V.

AT SINNA FERRY.

"It has been young wolves, an' bears, an' other vicious pets--every formed

thing, but snakes or redskins, and at last it's that!"

"Tush, tush, captain! Now, it's not so bad. Why, I declare, now, I was

kind of pleased when I got sight of her. She's white, anyway, and she's

right smart."

"Smart!" The captain sniffed, dubiously. "We'll get a chance to see about

that later on, Mrs. Huzzard. But it's like your--hem! tender heart to have

a good word for all comers, and this is only another proof of it."

"Pshaw! Now, you're making game, I guess. That's what you're up to,

captain," and Mrs. Huzzard attempted a chaste blush and smile, and

succeeded in a smirk. "I'm sure, now, that to hem a few neckties an' sich

like for you is no good reason for thinking I'm doing the same for every

one that comes around. No, indeed; my heart ain't so tender as all that."

The captain, from under his sandy brows, looked with a certain air of

satisfaction at the well rounded personality of Mrs. Huzzard. His vanity

was gently pleased--she was a fine woman!

"Well, I mightn't like it so well myself if I thought you'd do as much for

any man," he acknowledged. "There's too many men at the Ferry who ain't

fit even to eat one of the pies you make."

Mrs. Huzzard was fluting the edge of a pie at that moment, and looked

across the table at the captain, with arch meaning.

"Maybe so; but there's a right smart lot of fine-looking fellows among

them, too; there's no getting around that."

The unintelligible mutter of disdain that greeted her words seemed to

bring a certain comfort to her widowed heart, for she smiled brightly and

flipped the completed pie aside, with an airy grace.

"Now--now, Captain Leek, you can't be expecting common grubbers of men to

have all the advantages of manners that you've got. No, sir; you can't.

They hain't had the bringing up. They hain't had the schooling, and they

hain't had the soldier drills to teach them to carry themselves like

gentlemen. Now, you've had all that, and it's a sight of profit to you.

But don't be too hard on the folks that ain't jest so finished like as

you. There's that new Rivers girl, now--she ain't a bad sort, though it is

queer to see your boy Dan toting such a stranger into camp, for he never

did seem to take to girls much--did he?"

"It's not so easy to tell what he's taken to in his time," returned the

captain, darkly. "You know he isn't my own boy, as I told you before. He

was eight years old when I married his mother, and after her death he took

the bit in his own teeth, and left home. No great grief to me, for he

wasn't a tender boy to manage!" And Captain Leek heaved a sigh for the

martyrdom he had lived through.

"Oh, well, but see what a fine man he's turned out, and I'm sure no own

son could be better to you," for Mrs. Huzzard was one of the large,

comfortable bodies, who never see any but the brightest side of affairs,

and a good deal of a peacemaker in the little circle where she had taken

up her abode. "Indeed, now, captain, you'll not meet many such fine

fellows in a day's tramp."

"If she'd even been a real Indian," he continued, discontentedly, "it

would have been easier to manage her--to--to put her in some position

where she could earn her own living; for by Dan's words (few enough, too!)

I gather that she has no money back of her. She'll be a dead weight on his

hands, that's what she'll be, and an expensive savage he'll find her, I'll

prophesy."

"Like enough. Young ones of any sort do take a heap of looking after. But

she's smart, as I said before, and I do think it's a sight better to make

room for a likely young girl than to be scared most to death with young

wolves and bears tied around for pets. I was all of a shiver at night on

account of them. I'll take the girl every time. She won't scratch an' claw

at folks, anyway."

"Maybe not," added the captain, who was too contented with his discontent

to let go of it at once. "But no telling what a young animal like that may

develop into. She has no idea whatever of duty, Mrs. Huzzard, or of--of

veneration. She contradicted me squarely this morning when I made some

comment about those beastly redskins; actually set up her ignorance

against my years of service under the American flag, Mrs. Huzzard. Yes,

madame! she did that," and Captain Leek arose in his wrath and tramped

twice across the room, halting again near her table and staring at her as

though defying her to justify that.

When he arose, one could see by the slight unsteadiness in his gait that

the cane in his hand was for practical use. His limp was not a

deformity--in fact, it made him rather more interesting because of it;

people would notice or remember him when nothing else in his personality

would cause them to do so.

For Captain Alphonso Leek was not a striking-looking personage. His blue

eyes had a washed-out, querulous expression. His sandy whiskers had the

appearance of having been blown back from his chin, and lodged just in

front of his ears. An endeavor had been made to train the outlying

portions of his mustache in line with the lengthy, undulating "mutton

chops;" but they had, for well-grounded reasons, failed to connect, and

the effect was somewhat spoiled by those straggling skirmishers, bristling

with importance but waiting in vain for recruits. The top of his head had

got above timber line and glistened in the sun of early summer that

streamed through the clear windows of Mrs. Huzzard's back room.

But as that head was generally covered by a hat that sported a cord and

tassel, and as his bulging breastbone was covered by a dark-blue coat and

vest, on which the brass buttons shone in real military fashion--well, all

those things had their weight in a community where few men wore a coat at

all in warm weather.

Mrs. Huzzard, in the depths of her being, thought it would be a fine thing

to go back to Pennsylvania as "Mrs. Captain," even if the captain wasn't

as forehanded as she'd seen men.

Even the elegant way in which he could do nothing and yet diffuse an air

of importance, was impressive to her admiring soul. The clerical whiskers

and the military dress completed the conquest.

But Mrs. Huzzard, having a bit of native wisdom still left, knew he was

a man who would need managing, and that the best way was not to let his

opinion rule her in all things; therefore, she only laughed cheerily at

his indignation.

"Well, captain, I can't say but she did flare up about the Indians, when

you said they were all thieves and paupers, stealing from the Government,

and all that. But then, by what she says, she has knowed some decent ones

in her time--friends of hers; an' you know any one must say a good word

for a friend. You'd do that yourself."

"Maybe; I don't say I wouldn't," he agreed. "But I do say, the friends

would not be redskins. No, madame! They're no fit friends for a gentleman

to cultivate; and so I have told Dan. And if this girl owns such friends,

it shows plainly enough that the class she belongs to is not a high one.

Dan's mother was a lady, Mrs. Huzzard! She was my wife, madame! And it is

a distress for me to see any one received into our family who does not

come up to that same level. That is just the state of the case, and I

maintain my position in the matter; let Dan take on all the temper he

likes about it."

The lady of the pies did not respond to his remarks at once. She had an

idea that she herself might fall under the ban of Captain Leek's

discriminating eyes, and be excluded from that upper circle of chosen

humanity to which he was born and bred. He liked her pies, her flap-jacks,

and even the many kinds of boiled dinners she was in the habit of

preparing and garnishing with "dumplings." So far as his stomach was

concerned, she could rule supreme, for his digestion was of the best and

her "filling" dishes just suited him. But Lorena Jane Huzzard had read in

the papers some romances of the "gentle folk" he was fond of speaking of

in an intimate way. The gentle folk in her kind of stories always had

titles, military or civil, and were generally English lords and ladies;

the villains, as generally, were French or Italian. But think as she might

over the whole list, she could remember none in which the highbred scion

of blue blood had married either a cook or a milliner. One might marry the

milliner if she was very young and madly beautiful, but Lorena Jane was

neither. She remembered also that beautiful though the milliner or

bailiff's daughter, or housekeeper's niece might be, it was only the

villain in high life who married her. Then the marriage always turned out

at last to be a sham, and the milliner generally died of a broken heart.

So Mrs. Huzzard sighed and, with a thoughtful face, stirred up the batter

pudding.

Captain Leek had given her food for reflection of which he was little

aware, and it was quite a little while before she remembered to answer his

remarks.

"So Mr. Dan is showing temper, too, is he? Well--well--that's a pity. He's

a good boy, captain. I wouldn't waste my time to go against him, if I was

you, and there he is now. Good-morning, Mr. Dan! Come right in! Breakfast

over, but I'll get you up a bite at any time, and welcome. It does seem

right nice for you to be back in town again."

Overton entered at her bidding, and smiled down from his tall stature to

the broad, good-natured face she turned to him.

"Breakfast! Why, I'm thinking more about dinner, Mrs. Huzzard. I was up in

the hills last night, and had a camp breakfast before you city folks were

stirring. Where's 'Tana?"

A dubious sniff from Captain Leek embarrassed Mrs. Huzzard for a moment.

She thought he meant to answer and hesitated to give him a chance. But the

sniff seemed to express all he wanted to say, and she flushed a little at

its evident significance.

"Well, what's the matter now?" demanded the younger man, impatiently,

"where is she--do you know?"

"Oh--why, yes--of course we do," said Mrs. Huzzard hurriedly. "I didn't

mean to leave you without an answer--no, indeed. But the fact is, the

captain is set against something I did this morning, but I do hope you

won't be. Whatever they know or don't know in sussiety, the girl was

ignorant of it as could be when she asked to go, and so was I when I let

her. That's the gospel truth, and I do hope you won't have hard feeling

against me for it."

He came a step nearer them both, and looked keenly from one to the

other--even a little threateningly into the watchful eyes of Captain

Leek.

"Let her go! What do you mean? Where--Out with it!"

"Well, then, it was on the river she went, in one of them tiltuppy Indian

boats that I'm deathly afraid of. But Mr. Lyster, he did promise

faithfully he'd take good care of her. And as she'd seemed a bit

low-spirited this morning, I thought it 'ud do her good, and I part told

her to run along. And to think of its being improper for them to go

together--alone! Well, then, I never did--that's all!"

"Is it?" and Overton drew a long breath as of relief and laughed shortly.

"Well, you are perfectly right, Mrs. Huzzard. There is nothing wrong about

it, and don't you be worried into thinking there is. Max Lyster is a

gentleman--didn't you ever happen to know one, dad? Heavens! what a sinner

you must have been in your time, if you can't conceive two young folks

going out for an innocent boat ride. If any 'sky pilot' drifts up this

way, I'll explain your case to him--and ask for some tracts. Why, man,

your conscience must be a burden to you! I understand, now, how it comes I

find your hair a little scarcer each time I run back to camp."

He had seated himself, and leaning back, surveyed the irate captain as

though utterly oblivious of that gentleman's indignation, and then turned

his attention to Mrs. Huzzard, who was between two fires in her regret

that the captain should be ridiculed and her joy in Overton's commendation

of herself. The captain had dismayed her considerably by a monologue on

etiquette while she was making the pies, and she had inwardly hoped that

the girl and her handsome escort would return before Overton, for vague

womanly fears had been awakened in her heart by the opinions of the

captain. To be sure, Dan never did look at girls much, and he was as

"settled down" as any old man yet. The girl was pretty, and there was a

bit of mystery about her. Who could tell what her guardian intended her

for? This question had been asked by Captain Leek. Dan was very

close-lipped about her, and his reticence had intensified the mystery

regarding his ward. Mrs. Huzzard had seen wars of extermination started

for a less worthy reason than pretty Montana, and so she had done some

quiet fretting over the question until 'Tana's guardian set her free from

worries by his hearty words.

"Don't you bother your precious head, or 'Tana's, with ideas of what rules

people live by in a society of the cities thousands of miles away," he

advised her. "It's all right to furnish guards or chaperons where people

are so depraved as to need them."

This with a turn of his eyes to the captain, who was gathering himself up

with a great deal of dignity.

"Good-morning, Mrs. Huzzard," he said, looking with an unapproachable air

across Dan's tousled head. "If my stepson at times forgets what is due a

gentleman in your house, do not fancy that I reflect on you in the

slightest for it. I regret that he entertains such ideas, as they are

totally at variance with the rules by which he was reared. Good-morning,

madame."

Mrs. Huzzard clasped her hands and gazed with reproach at Overton, but at

the same time she could not repress a sigh of relief.

"Well, now, he is good-natured to take it like that, and speak so

beautiful," she exclaimed, admiringly; "and you surely did try any man's

patience, Mr. Dan. Shame on you!"

But Dan only laughed and held up his finger warningly.

"You'll marry that man some day, if I don't put a stop to this little

mutual admiration society I find here on my return," he said, and caught

her sleeve as she tried to pass him. "Now don't you do it, Mrs. Huzzard.

You are too nice a woman and too much of a necessity to this camp for any

one man to build up a claim for you. Just think what will happen if you do

marry him! Why, you'll be my stepmother! Doesn't the prospect frighten

you?"

"Oh, stop your nonsense, Mr. Dan! I declare you do try a body's patience.

You are too big to send to bed without your supper, or I vow I'd try it

and see if it would tame you any. The captain is surely righteous mad."

"Then let him attend to his postoffice instead of interfering with your

good cooking. Jim Hill said yesterday he guessed the postoffice had moved

to your hotel, and the boys all ask me when the wedding is to be."

She blushed with a certain satisfaction, but tossed her head provokingly.

"Well, now, you can just tell them it won't be this week, Mr. Dan Overton;

so you can quit your plaguing. Who knows but they may be asking the same

about you, if you keep fetching such pretty girls into camp? Oh, I guess

you don't like bein' plagued any more than other folks."

For Overton's smile had vanished at her words, and a tiny wrinkle crept

between his brows. But when she commented on it, he recovered himself, and

answered carelessly:

"But I don't think I will keep on bringing pretty girls into camp--that

is, I scarcely think it will grow into a steady habit," he said, and met

her eyes so steadily that she dismissed all idea of any heart interest in

the girl. "But I'd rather 'Tana didn't hear any chaff of that sort. You

know what I mean. The boys, or any one, is like enough to joke about it at

first; but when they learn 'for keeps,' that I'm not a marrying man,

they'll let up. As she grows older, there'll be enough boys to bother her

in camp without me. All I want is to see that she is looked after right;

and that's what I'm in here to talk about this morning."

"Well, now, I'm right glad to help you all I can--which ain't much, maybe,

for I never did have a sight of schooling. But I can learn her the

milliner trade--though it ain't much use at the Ferry yet; but it's

always a living, anyway, for a woman in a town. And as to cookin' and

bakin'--"

"Oh, yes; they are all right; she will learn such things easily, I think!

But I wanted to ask about that cousin of yours--the lady who, you said,

wanted to come out from Ohio to teach Indians and visit you. Is she

coming?"

"Well, she writes like it. She is a fine scholar, Lavina is; but I kind o'

let up on asking her to come after I struck this camp, for she always held

her head high, I hear, and wouldn't be noways proud of me as a relation,

if she found me doing so much downright kitchen work. I hain't seen her

since she was grow'd up, you know, and I don't know how she'd feel about

it."

"If she's any good, she'll think all the more of you for having pluck to

tackle any honest work that comes," said Overton, decidedly. "We all

do--every man in the settlement. If I didn't, I wouldn't be asking you to

look after this little girl, who hasn't any folks--father or mother--to

look after her right. I thought if that lady teacher would just settle

down here, I would make it worth her while to teach 'Tana."

"Well, now, that would be wise," exclaimed Mrs. Huzzard, delightedly. "An'

I'll write her a letter this very night. Or, no--not to-night," she added,

"for I'll be too busy. To-night the dance is to be."

"What dance?"

"Well, now, I clean forgot to tell you about that. But it was Mr. Lyster

planned it out after you left yesterday. As he's to go back East in a few

days, he is to give a supper and a dance to the boys, and I just thought

if they were going to have it, they might as well have it right and so

it's to be here."

Overton twisted his hat around in silence for a few moments.

"What does 'Tana think of it?" he asked, at last.

"She? Why, land's sakes! She's tickled a heap over it. Indeed, to go back

to the commencement, I guess it was to please her he got it up. At least,

that's the way it looked to me, for she no sooner said she'd like to see a

dance with this crowd at the Ferry than he said there should be one, and I

should get up a supper. I tell you that young chap sets store by that

little girl of yours, though she does sass him a heap. They're a

fine-looking young couple, Mr. Dan."

Mr. Dan evidently agreed, for he nodded his head absently, but did not

speak. He did not look especially pleased over the announcement of the

dance.

"Well, I suppose she's got to learn soon or late whom to meet and whom to

let alone here," he said at last, in a troubled way, "and she might as

well learn now as later. Yet I wish Max had not been in such a hurry. And

he promised to take good care of her on the river, did he?" he added,

after another pause. "Well, he's a good fellow; but I reckon she can guide

him in most things up here."

"No, indeed," answered Mrs. Huzzard, with promptness, "I heard her say

myself that she had never been along this part of the Kootenai River

before."

"Maybe not," he agreed. "I'm not speaking of this immediate locality. I

mean that she has good general ideas about finding ways, and trails, and

means. She's got ideas of outdoor life that girls don't often have, I

reckon. And if she can only look after herself as well in a camp as she

can on a trail, I'll be satisfied."

Mrs. Huzzard looked at him as he stared moodily out of the window.

"I see how it is," she said, nodding her head in a kindly way. "Since

she's here, you're afraid some of the folks is most too rough to teach her

much good. Well, well, don't you worry. We'll do the best we can, and that

dead partner o' yours--her father, you know--will know you do your best;

and no man can do more. I had a notion about her associates when I let her

go out on the river this morning. 'Just go along,' thought I, 'if you get

into the way of making company out of real gentlemen, you'll not be so

like to be satisfied with them as ain't--"

"Good enough," Dan assented, cheerily. "You have been doing a little

thinking on your own account, Mrs. Huzzard? That's all right, then. I'll

know that you are a conscientious care-taker, no matter how far out on a

trail I am. There's another thing I wanted to say; it's this: Just you let

her think that the help she gives you around the house more than pays for

her keeping, will you?"

"Why, of course I will; and I'm willing enough to take her company in

change for boarding, if that's all. You know I didn't want to take the

money when you did pay it."

"I know; that's all right. I want you to have the money, only don't let

her know she is any bill of expense to me. Understand! You see, she said

something about it yesterday--thought she was a trouble to me, or some

such stuff. It seemed to bother her. When she gets older, we can talk to

her square about such things. But now, till she gets more used to the

thought of being with us, we'll have to do some pious cheating in the

matter. I'll take the responsibilities of the lies, if we have to tell

any. It--it seems the only way out, you see."

He spoke a little clumsily, as though uttering a speech prepared

beforehand and by one not used to memorizing, and he did not look at Mrs.

Huzzard as he talked to her.

But she looked at him and then let her hand fall kindly on his shoulder.

She had not read romances for nothing. All at once she fancied she had

found a romance in the life of Dan Overton.

"Yes, I see, as plain as need be," she said. "I see that you've brought

care for yourself with that little mischief in her Indian dress; an' you

take all the care on your shoulders as though it was a blessed privilege.

And she's never to know what she owes you. Well, there's my hand. I'm your

friend, Dan Overton. But don't waste your days with too much care about

this new pet you've brought home. That's all I've got to say. She'll never

think more of you for it. Girls don't; they are as selfish as young

wolves."