California -- Fiction; Western stories; Women pioneers -- Fiction
The Girl did not answer; her breathing, swift and short, painfully
intensified the hush that had fallen on the room; at last, the boys
becoming impatient began to bombard her with questions.
“Be you goin’ to show them Ridge boys we’ve petered out an’ culture’s a
dead dog here?” began Happy, rising.
“Do you want them to think Academy’s busted?” asked Handsome.
“Ain’t we your boys no more?” put in Trinidad, wistfully.
“Ain’t I your boy?” asked Sonora, sentimentally. “Why, what is it, Girl?
Has anybody--tell me--perhaps--”
The Girl raised her head and dried her eyes; when she spoke one could
have heard a pin drop.
“Oh, no, no, no,” she said with averted face, and added tremulously:
“There, we won’t say no more about it. Let’s forgit it. Only when I go
away I want to leave the key o’ my cabin with Old Sonora here, an’ I
want you all to come up sometimes, an’ to think o’ me as the girl who
loved you all, an’ sometimes is wishin’ you well, an’ I want to think o’
little Nick here runnin’ my bar an’ not givin’ the boys too much
whisky.” Her words died away in a sob and her head fell forward, her
hand, the while, resting upon Nick’s shoulder.
At last, Sonora saw what lay beneath her tears; the situation was all
too clear to him now.
“Hold on!” he cried hoarsely. “There’s jest one reason for the Girl to
leave her home an’ friends--only one: There must be some fellow away
from here that she--that she likes better ’n she does any of us.” And
turning once more upon the Girl, he demanded excitedly: “Is that it?
Speak!”
The Girl raised her tear-stained face and looked him in the eye.
“Likes--” she repeated with a world of meaning in her voice--“in a
different way, yes.”
“Well, so help me!” ejaculated Happy, unhappily, while Sonora, with head
bent low, went over to his seat.
The next moment the boys of the front rows had joined those of the rear
and were grouping themselves together to discuss the situation.
“Sure you ain’t makin’ a mistake?” Trinidad questioned suddenly.
The Girl came down from her seat on the platform and went over to them.
“Mistake,” she repeated dreamily. “Oh, no, no, no, boys, there’s no
mistake about this. Oh, Trin!” she burst out tearfully, and two soft
arms crept gently about his neck. “An’ Sonora--Ah, Sonora...!” She
raised herself on her tiny toes and kissed him on the left cheek.
The next instant she was gone.
XVII
Whatever may be said to the contrary, there are few more humiliating
moments in a man’s life than when he learns that some other person has
supplanted him in the affections of his adored one. And it was the
Girl’s knowledge of this, together with her desire to spare the feelings
of her two old admirers,--for in her nature there was ever that
thoughtfulness of others which never permitted her to do a mean thing to
anyone,--that had caused her to flee so precipitously from the room.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account