Читать книгу The Mystery at Dark Star Ranch - Percy Keese Fitzhugh - Страница 5

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The Dark Star Ranch lay on the other side of Crosley’s Range; one large, sprawling white house and several white painted outbuildings whose composite picture presented a perfect star to the eye of the beholder traveling toward it from the range. And snuggling as it did under the mountain wall, a continual shadow was cast upon it, giving it a sombre aspect even when the sun was at its height.

Hal noticed this and thought a good deal about it when he stood on the veranda of the big house amidst his baggage. Buck Perry had summarily disposed of him and was guiding the roaring, shaking Ford back up the trail, evidently glad to be on his way back to the depot at Gordon’s Creek.

Hal peered through the front screen door into the dim hall as he knocked. He heard voices somewhere in the house. Then, almost without warning, a slippered footstep sounded right at hand and on the other side of the door he saw the smiling round face of a Chinaman.

“Hullo!” Hal said, grinnning amiably. “Guess I’m in the right place. I’ve come to visit Richard Merrivale—I’m his friend, Hal Keen, from Ramapo, New Jersey.”

The Chinaman’s smile deepened perceptibly and he opened the door and came out onto the veranda. “Velly pleased to meet you, Mister Kleen,” he said in his sing-song voice. “Velly pleased to meet a flend of Mister Richard’s. You come stay while—this your blaggage?”

“It sure is,” Hal answered, studying the Chinaman’s face. Somehow he felt sure of the Oriental and he winked at him confidentially. “I’m told I may not be very welcome here—is that so?” he asked in low tones.

The Chinaman’s smile faded and he looked thoughtful for a moment. Suddenly he cocked his round bald head and listened at the door, then pattered softly to Hal’s side. “It velly true, Mister Kleen,” he whispered, “but you will be welcome velly much by Mister Richard. I know. Mister Clark and Missy Aida—they clanky like everything—they no want anything since the boss died. They’ll be what you call hoppin’ mad, but you keep velly nice smile like you have and stay. Richard be glad—he down now to village on business—he be back three o’clock maybe.”

“Fine. But how about this Mister Clark Merrivale and Miss Aida—are they here, by any misfortune?”

The Chinaman chuckled softly and nodded. “They come down velly soon now. Then they go for afternoon to Yellow City to buy horses. They come now, I think—I hear them. After they go I take you to nice cool room upstairs. You take bath maybe and then have lunch, Mr. Kleen?”

Hal held out his hand to the Chinaman and smiled gratefully. “You’re a fellow after my own heart!”

“My name Sen,” the Oriental grinned, taking his outstretched hand. “I like you velly fine a’ready, Mister Kleen.”

“Same here, Sen,” Hal said with a ring of feeling in his voice. “As we say down east, you’re my pal, and how!”

“And how!” Sen echoed with a beaming face.

They said no more for heavy footsteps sounded in the hall. Presently the door opened and Hal was a little startled at the domineering quality so apparent in both Clark and Aida Merrivale as they stepped out on the veranda. Of striking proportions and almost his equal in height, they looked at him searchingly out of dark, deep-set eyes.

Sen bowed profusely and introduced Hal to them in his own inimitable way. “Mister Hal Kleen, he friend of Mister Richard ... he come from Ramplo....”

“Keen—Hal Keen’s my name,” Hal interposed with his frank smile. “I come from Ramapo, New Jersey, and I met Richard at Lee Holliday’s last summer. He insisted on my stopping off here and spending a little time with him this summer. I started from home with the coast as my destination, but when I got to Montana I thought of Richard Merrivale. So here I am!”

Clark Merrivale’s smile was forced and he leaned back against the veranda rail, flecking an imaginary piece of dust from his spotless riding habit. When he looked up at Hal there was a suggestion of a frown on his face.

“So you’re a friend of Richard’s, eh?” he asked tersely. Then after a hasty scrutiny of Hal’s handsome face and physique, he added, sarcastically: “Odd that I never heard him mention you, Keen.”

Aida Merrivale seemed to rustle in her riding togs and her dark, handsome face puckered into a frown. “There’s nothing odd about it, Clark, dear,” she said incisively. “It’s Richard that’s so odd. After all, we know little of him, much less of his friends,” she added with a sweeping glance of disapproval at Hal.

Hal bowed his head and smiled goodnaturedly. “The Merrivales have nothing to fear from me, Miss Merrivale,” he chuckled. “If there’s any doubt about my desirability as Richard’s friend, I can refer you to no better character witness than my own beloved mother.”

“We weren’t questioning character, Mr. Keen; we were questioning Richard’s odd manner of inviting people here without....”

“My fault, Miss Merrivale, my fault,” Hal smiled apologetically. “You see, Richard didn’t expect me at any definite time. He asked me last summer to drop in on him some time this summer and I said I would. And,” he added with light sarcasm, “I’ve heard so much about western hospitality I just thought....”

“It’s all right, Keen,” Clark Merrivale said curtly. “I understand perfectly.” He looked at Hal again searchingly, then moved slowly toward the steps on his powerful-looking legs. “Richard will be back at....”

“I know,” Hal interposed. “Sen told me. Don’t bother about me. I’ll find plenty to do while I’m waiting for Richard. I’m just that kind of a fellow.”

“Odd,” said Clark as he stood on the top step. “I had you sized up that way. So long,” he added and nodding to his imperious-looking sister, he walked briskly away at her side.

Hal stared after them, scratching his red, curling hair and whistling softly.