Читать книгу Lucky Larribee - Frederick Schiller Faust - Страница 11

Table of Contents

When the West opens its throat to shout, it remembers the Indians that once filled its plains, and the sound splits the sky. So it was now that big Larribee had got the stallion under control.

For under control he plainly was. He had not bucked a single jump of the way. Though he had seemed to bolt, at first, he had given up even that means of protest and now jogged peaceably forward, Larribee actually giving the blue horse a round thump in the ribs with his heel.

He rode to the barred gate of the corral and just paused there to speak to Gurry.

“He’ll do,” he told Gurry. “He’ll win some stakes that will choke you to swallow ’em!”

“You can get choked by ’em, too,” said Gurry. “I’m for you, Larribee!”

Those words came out of the trainer’s heart.

Potswood could be heard shouting in the distance, parting the crowd before him with loud words accompanied by blows freely delivered with his walking stick, with the aid of which he hobbled forward. Some of those blows might well have been resented, were it not that on either side of the gambler walked a brace of his ruffianly bouncers who did duty of a night in his gambling house.

Potswood came up through the crowd brandishing a purse or, rather, a double-ended bag-shaped wallet of chamois skin. He was striking right and left with this, and the gold within jingled loudly.

As he came close to young Larribee, he shouted: “Here, Larribee! Here you are, boy! You can have double this, the first time that you lack a stake in my house!”

Larribee turned to the gambler, nodded and waved his hand cheerfully.

“You save that money, Potswood,” said he. “Split it into ten sections, and give it to the next ten poor fellows—not the ones who want to gamble, but the ones who have their fill of cards and dice, and are leaving.”

Potswood hesitated and seemed in two minds as to how he should take this suggestion, but the hearty clapping of hands which greeted his most unexpected act of generosity caused Potswood to side with the apparent majority. He waved his hand to Larribee and called back loudly that he would do exactly as he was bidden, and that he would take a pleasure in doling out the money in this manner.

This last act of Larribee’s was of great importance in the mind of one of his observers, for Arabelle Ransome exclaimed to her hostess: “You see? You see? It’s not the money that he’s interested in.”

“Money? Stuff!” said Mrs. Ransome. “Whatever put such an idea into your head in the first place? The boy’s a hero! A downright hero!”

When her son heard this remark and saw Arabelle nod with the utmost gravity, he squeezed his hand together so hard that the spines of the bur almost pierced his palm.

Then Larribee came through the crowd. He was big enough at all times. He looked like a giant on the back of Sky Blue, and the people gave way before him, opening a lone lane of considerable width, for the stallion was dancing and prancing now that he had such a mob of strangers around him. No stiff rein checked him; it was only the gentle voice of Larribee that kept him in control.

So he came straight up to Mrs. Ransome and dismounted, thereby definitely putting an end to his first ride on Sky Blue.

“I hear that you have something for me,” he said to Mrs. Ransome.

“Yes, indeed, I have your money,” said she.

Then she placed the ring in Arabelle’s hand.

“You can talk to her about the other thing,” said Mrs. Ransome.

Her husband came up with a stern and forbidding air and stood by, but Arabelle stepped straight up to Larribee.

“This ring,” she said slowly, “belongs to you, I suppose. But it’s only mine to keep on a sort of trust, I suppose I may say. I’ve no right to give it away to a man whom I’ve met to-day for the first time. I’m going to ask you not to wear it.”

He took the ring and looked down at it. It was a broad golden band with a plain setting, such as a man would be likely to prefer. The emerald itself was big, with a broad-faced tablecut, and it was by no means free from flaws. Looking down into it, he saw the dull blue-white of several small fissures. Nevertheless, it was a handsome stone, and the face of it bore an incised design of a coat of arms, supported by a unicorn and a lion rampant on opposite sides.

He tried the ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. It would not pass over even the first joint, but with some pressure it was got on to his small finger on the same hand.

He said: “If it were a looser fit, I’d take it off and wear it in my pocket, but it’s so snug that I’m going to leave it where it is.”

“Young man,” said Mrs. Ransome, “don’t be rash. If you wear that ring, it will cost you a pretty package of trouble, one of these days!”

“I suppose it will,” said Larribee, “but I’ve an idea that it likes the open air and the sun, and I like to see it. Arabelle, this is a better day than even a blue sky could make it!”

Arabelle looked him straight in the eye.

“I ought to tell what that ring means,” said she, “but you’re so proud, my friend, that I won’t. Only, if you can keep it safely on your hand for a year, I wish that you’d let me know about it!”

“At the end of a year,” said Larribee, looking back into her eyes with a glance as straight as hers, “the ring will be on my hand if the hand is still mine!”

If there was a little bravado about this, he covered it with a chuckle, and remarking that it was time for him to give the stallion its second trial, he got into the saddle, this time with a bound, and rode off through the shouting crowd.

Major Ransome was almost exploding with rage. He had not spoken while Larribee was present, partly because he would not demean himself by speaking, as he put it, to a common adventurer and, secondly, because he hardly knew what words to address to his wife and his young cousin. For he felt that no language could be quite strong enough.

“Women, by Heaven,” said the major, “need discipline more than soldiers and, by the Eternal, they’re going to have it.”

He fanned his moustaches out of either side with his thumb and forefinger. “Arabelle has mother all excited,” said Josiah III. “That’s the only trouble. Poor mother, she can be influenced, you know. And Arabelle’s a rebel, it looks to me!”

He smiled as he said it, a sick, wan smile, for his whole heart yearned after her, in bitter longing that was almost like hatred.

“Arabelle is young,” said the major, heavily, “but youth is a fault that corrects itself. A little patience with Arabelle, my boy! A little more patience and you’ll see everything turn out well. One mustn’t forget that she’s been badly spoiled. Wealth like hers is able to corrupt saints, even!”

He licked his lips and added, again: “Even saints!”

As for young Josiah, he had not the girl’s wealth in mine. He would have had her willingly if she had brought with her nothing but beggery and her loveliness.

In the meantime, Arabelle was saying to Mrs. Ransome: “I’ve got to tell him what the ring means. Of course, I can’t let him go off without knowing all about it!”

“Of course, you can’t,” said Mrs. Ransome. “But I’ll tell you one thing, my child!”

“What’s that?” said Arabelle.

“Whatever you say, he’ll never hide the ring.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Arabelle.

“I say it because it’s true,” said Mrs. Ransome. “He’s filing his claim. He’s warning you that some day he’s going to marry you, and well you know it!”

“Oh, stuff,” said Arabelle, “I never heard of such a thing!”

She looked straight before her, not at the people, but at the brilliant white clouds which were sailing out of the east, each shining as though a separate sun, or a moon, at least, were hidden in its depths.