The Desert Valley | Page 6

eyes was utterly beyond his control.
'I'd better be going off by myself somewhere,' he remarked as gravely
as he could manage, 'if you're going to start shooting a man up just
because he calls before breakfast.'
With a face grown a sick white, the man in bed looked helplessly from
the stranger to his daughter and then to the gun.
'I didn't do a thing to it,' he began haltingly.
'You won't do a thing to yourself one of these fine days.' remarked the
horseman with evident relish, 'if you don't quit carrying that sort of
life-saver. Come over to the ranch and I'll swap you a hand-axe for it.'
Helen sniffed audibly and distastefully. Her first impression of the
stranger had been more correct than are first impressions nine times out
of ten; he was as full of impudence as a city sparrow. She had sat up
'looking like a fright'; her father had made himself ridiculous; the
stranger was mirthfully concerned with the amusing possibilities of
both of them.
Suddenly the tall man, smitten by inspiration, slapped his thigh with
one hand, while with the other he curbed rebellion in his mare and
offered the explosive wager:
'I'll bet a man a dollar I've got your number, friends. You are Professor
James Edward Longstreet and his little daughter Helen! Am I right?'
'You are correct, sir,' acknowledged the professor a trifle stiffly. His
eye did not rise, but clung in a fascinated, faintly accusing way to the
gun which had betrayed him.
The stranger nodded and then lifted his hat for the ceremony while he
presented himself.

'Name of Howard,' he announced breezily. 'Alan Howard of the old
Diaz Rancho. Glad to know you both.'
'It is a pleasure, I am sure, Mr. Howard,' said the professor. 'But, if you
will pardon me, at this particular time of day----'
Alan Howard laughed his understanding.
'I'll chase up to the pool and give Helen a drink of real water,' he said
lightly. 'Funny my mare's name should be Helen, too, isn't it?' This
directly into a pair of eyes which the growing light showed to be grey
and attractive, but just now hostile. 'Then, if you say the word, I'll romp
back and take you up on a cup of coffee. And we'll talk things over.'
He stooped forward in the saddle a fraction of an inch; his mare caught
the familiar signal and leaped; they were gone, racing away across the
sand which was flung up after them like spray.
'Of all the fresh propositions!' gasped Helen.
But she knew that he would not long delay his return, and so slipped
quickly from under her blanket and hurried down to the water-hole to
bathe her hands and face and set herself in order. Her flying fingers
found her little mirror; there wasn't any smudge on her face, after all,
and her hair wasn't so terribly unbecoming that way; tousled, to be sure,
but then, nice, curly hair can be tousled and still not make one a perfect
hag. It was odd about his mare being named Helen. He must have
thought the name pretty, for obviously he and his horse were both
intimate and affectionate. 'Alan Howard.' Here, too, was rather a nice
name for a man met by chance out in the desert. She paused in the act
of brushing her hair. Was she to get an explanation of last night's
puzzle? Was Mr. Howard the man who had lighted the other fire?
The professor's taciturnity was of a pronounced order this morning.
Now and then as he made his own brief and customarily untidy toilet,
he turned a look of accusation upon the big Colt lying on his bed.
Before drawing on his boots he bestowed upon his toe a long glance of
affection; the bullet that had passed within a very few inches of this

adjunct of his anatomy had emphasized a toe's importance. He had
never realized how pleasant it was to have two big toes, all one's own
and unmarred. By the time the foot had been coaxed and jammed down
into his new boot the professor's good humour was on the way to being
restored; a man of one thought at the time, due to his long habit of
concentration, his emotion was now one of a subdued rejoicing. It
needed but the morning cup of coffee to set him beaming upon the
world.
Alan Howard's sudden call: 'Can I come in now, folks?' from across a
brief space of sand and brush, found Professor Longstreet on his knees
feeding twigs to a tiny blaze, and hastened Helen through the final
touches of her dressing. Helen was humming softly to herself, her back
to him, her mind obviously concentrated upon the bread she