The Furnace of Gold | Page 5

captive. The maid sat down upon the suitcase, dropped her skirt in a modest little manner, and cast her gaze upon the ground.
Beth was the first to speak.
"Well, Elsa, I hope you are comfortable."
"Yes, Miss, thank you," said the maid.
Thereupon Miss Kent turned to the horseman and laughed. Someway she could not feel alarmed, in the presence of this man of the hills, in whose eyes merry devils were dancing.
"Isn't this absurd?" she said.
"Searle must have been born absurd," replied the horseman, once more removing his hat. He waved it towards the station host imperiously. "Dave, present me to the lady." And as Dave floundered, hopelessly puzzled, he added: "Give me a knock-down, man, don't you savvy?"
Dave dropped his sliver, snatched off his hat, and rid himself of a quid of something strong--all in one convulsion of activity.
"'Scuse me," he apologized, approaching nearer. "Miss--Miss--Miss Laffin' Water, this is Van. His whole name's----"
"That's enough," Van interrupted. "I'm gratified to meet you, Se?orita, I'm sure."
He extended his hand. Beth knew not what to do, wherefore she gave him her own.
"How do you do, Mr. Van?" she answered tremulously, and she drew her fingers back again at once. "If you don't mind," she added, "we really must continue on to Goldite as soon as possible." A fleeting look of doubt and alarm had swept all the mirth from her eyes. After all, even with this "introduction" what were these men's intentions? It was a grave affair to be halted thus--to be practically abducted--to be left with no protection, in the hands of roadside strangers, one, at least, of whom was certainly inclined to be lawless and outrageously bold.
The horseman regarded her seriously, as if with a certain divination of her worry. Someway, from the look in his eyes her confidence returned, she knew not why.
"Do you ride?" he asked her, "--you and your maid?"
"Why, yes--that is----" she addressed the maid on the suitcase. "Elsa, can you ride--on a horse?"
Elsa said: "Yes, Miss, if it is part of my duty."
Beth's composure increased. After all, it was a glorious day, the horseman was handsome, and she had wished for a little adventure--but not too much!
"What does it mean?" she asked of Van more boldly. "We were perfectly comfortable, riding in the car. If you really intend to permit us to go, why couldn't we have gone on as we were?"
Dave started to answer.
"You see, Miss----"
Van cut in abruptly.
"Never mind, Dave; this isn't your pie." To Beth he added: "If you've brought any particularly appropriate garments for riding, suppose you retire for preparations. Dave will tote the bags inside the house."
"You bet I will!" said Dave, who, as Elsa rose, took suitcase and all in one load.
Beth hesitated. The horseman had started already for the stable at the rear. How superbly straight was his figure! What a confident, impudent grace beset him as he moved! How could it be possible for such a man to be other than a gentleman--no matter where he was found? Some strange little thrill of excitement and love of adventure stirred in the girl's full veins. Resistance was useless. Come what might, she was helpless in the hands of this man--and he seemed a person to be trusted.
"Come, Elsa," she said, bravely deciding to face whatsoever might arise. "You may wear the second of my skirts."
Fifteen minutes later, therefore, she and her maid emerged from the shack attired in brown cloth, and kahki, respectively, her own skirt long and graceful, while Elsa's was shorter and divided. Aside or cross-saddle Beth was equally at home upon a horse--or always had been, in the parks.
Van and Dave now returned, leading two extra ponies from the stable. One was a bay, accoutered with a man's deep Mexican saddle, whereon was secured a coiled lasso; the other was a wiry little roan mare, with a somewhat decrepit but otherwise sound side-saddle tightly cinched upon her back.
"Our stable chamberlain has slipped a cog on the outfits for ladies recently," said Van apologetically, "but I reckon these will have to do."
Beth looked the two mounts over uncritically. They seemed to be equally matched, as to general characteristics, since neither appeared either strong or plump. She said:
"Shall we ride very far?"
"No, just a pleasant little jog," replied the horseman. "They call it forty miles to Goldite by the ridge, but it isn't an inch over thirty."
Thirty miles!--over the mountains!--with an unknown man and her maid! Beth suppressed a gasp of despair and astonishment, not to mention trepidation, by making an effort that verged upon the heroic.
"But we--we can never arrive in Goldite tonight!" she said. "We can't expect to, can we?"
"It takes more than that to kill these bronchos," Van cheerfully assured her. "I can only guarantee that the horses will make it--by sunset."
Beth flushed. He evidently entertained