She felt Mrs. Vining's body stiffen.

"No--that is--no, I'm not sure. I don't know."

Mrs. Horne cleared her throat and offered the sort of consolation we are apt to accord our friends.

"You know, Judy, dear, what everybody said when Harry left. Of course, I knew it was all his own fault and his drinking. I never did believe what people said--"

"No, of course you didn't," said Mrs. Vining, with a trace of bitterness.

They fell silent again. At last Mrs. Vining moved.

"She's so sweet," she murmured. Shortly afterwards she kissed Mrs. Horne and rose to go to her own room.

"Stay here, Judy. You won't bother me."

"No, but you'll bother me. You snore dreadfully."

"Judy, that's a lie," Mrs. Horne cried after her.

By Hetty's orders, Lafe accompanied us to The Tanks when Mrs. Vining departed. A truly womanly stab, this, in victory. And the Burro express bore Mrs. Vining away, the conductor winking at Lafe from the platform of the last car, his countenance sad and composed. We watched him take his cap off in order to mop his brow and Mrs. Vining waved her glove at us. Then we turned our horses about. Mrs. Horne shed a few tears and instructed Manuel to whip the team, lest she be late home for supper.

The Burro express crawled away up the valley. At a point six miles from The Tanks, an unkempt man with matted hair flung a stone through the window of the last car. Later I came on him on a mesa and he was counting the tops of the hills.

CHAPTER XXVIII

RECONCILIATION--MRS. VINING EXPERIENCES A CHANGE OF HEART

We were to see more of our mathematician who haunted The Hatter.

On a day, the rider who brought our mail twice weekly, delivered a fat letter to Mrs. Horne. She read it with open mouth and called her husband into consultation behind closed doors. Shortly afterwards they summoned Lafe, and in about an hour, he sent for me.

"I've got to go fetch that locoed prospector," he confided. "Will you help?"

"Why not get some of the boys to round him up?" I objected, for the mail had brought some personal business that required thought.

"They might be rough with him. No, sir; we've got to bring him in gentle, Dan. It's the queerest story I ever done heard. Say, don't women do queer things? I swan, I can't figure 'em."

All of the afternoon and next morning we rode the slopes of The Hatter.

Then suddenly we saw him. The prospector was catching gra.s.shoppers. He made to run as we approached, but Lafe spurred his horse and headed him off. Seeing escape barred, he stood still and waited, not without dignity--if a man who is clutching a fist-full of gra.s.shoppers can possess dignity.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"Say, you speak French, don't you?"

"I can speak five languages, sir," said the prospector pompously. And he began to patter German.

"Well," Lafe resumed--and I could see he was impressed--"well, sir, there's a guy at the ranch who can't speak English very good. We want somebody to tell him what the ol' man wants--ol' Horne of the Anvil. If you'll come down--"

"I shall be very pleased."

"Good," Johnson said in surprise. "We've got some right good liquor there and I thought--"

The prospector laughed and looked at him cunningly. He would not mount behind either of us, being suspicious even of the offer, but trudged between, occasionally breaking into rambling discourses on natural history and a.s.sociated topics--such as the edible qualities of gra.s.shoppers, if properly stewed. It took us five hours to reach the ranch, and our guest was then so tired that he readily acceded to the suggestion that we eat and sleep before meeting the gentleman who spoke only French.

Next morning, by dint of impressing on him the importance of the transaction and the high social status of the man he was to converse with, Lafe persuaded the prospector to bathe and don new clothes. They belonged to Horne and sagged all over his emaciated body, but he seemed rather proud of his appearance. Also, once started, he consented to let Dave, the cook, cut his hair and beard.

At noon I was on the porch when a buckboard drove up, and a man and a woman got out. The woman was heavily veiled. Both were hurried inside by Mrs. Horne and I was sent down to the bunkhouse to carry word to Lafe and his captive.

"That feller who just come in is a specialist," Lafe whispered on the way to the house. "They come off the Burro express this morning."

The prospector was ushered into Horne's office, a bare room facing the corrals. There a well-groomed man of affable manners met us and courteously addressed him in French. They talked for a moment. The prospector never let his gaze wander from the other's face.

"I say," he broke out abruptly in English, "isn't your name Toole?"

"It is."

"Harvard '87?"

"Yes, sir."

"That was my cla.s.s."

The other affected to search his memory. He wrinkled his brow and pursed up his mouth.

"I remember you now perfectly. You're Vining."

They shook hands. Then Vining drew back as though a.s.sailed by a suspicion, and his glance flickered from one to the other of us like that of an animal at bay.

"They said you couldn't speak--what does this mean, anyway? You're trying--"

"Steady, old man," said the doctor.

The door to the sitting-room off the office opened, and Mrs. Vining came in. She went straight to the prospector, with her hands out pleadingly.

Had she wavered, heaven knows what might not have happened.

"Harry!" she said.

What transpired after that I cannot say. Lafe and I found ourselves outside, and there the doctor joined us.

Not long after sunrise, Johnson himself drove a light, covered wagon in front of the porch steps, with me on the seat beside him. Our orders were to catch the Burro express with our guests.

Mrs. Vining came first, the prospector holding fast to her arm. His eyes were steady and he appeared perfectly rational, but uneasy and nervous, and he still shambled in his walk. Just behind them was the specialist, brisk and confident. He smiled on us triumphantly.

Before Mrs. Vining got into the vehicle, Mrs. Horne surged down the steps impulsively and threw her arms about her neck and kissed her.