THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 335, 10 March 1910, Page 6

THE STORYTELLER.

" FAIRY " "Wei!, I do reckon that for out-auil-out <'liL-pk a blue-jay can lick all creation/' The words were spoken to a bird of the species named, and, as though realising this, the little creature paused, its .'head turned aside, one bright eye regarding the speaker. Apparently the scrutiny was satisfactory, for in a moment the bird was hopping again in close proximity to the man's spade. In truth, save for his humanity, there was nothing alarming about Stephen Deanc; other bright eyes —more critical than a blue-jay's—had found the tall, cleanlimbed young miner, with his sun-tan-ned ski:-, and frank gaze, good to look upon, and if his face had the gravity which comes of shouldering life's responsibilities too oarly, there was a twinkle in the grey eyes which showed that lie looked on the rosy side of things as a rule. The twinkle was prominent now as he surveyed his feathered visitor.

"S'pose you've got you own affairs to attend to," he drawled, "but if you could spare time to go down there, an' find out what's goin' on you'd be doin' me a real service."

' He nodded as lie spoke to where, nearly half a mile below in the gully, a miscellaneous collection of rough buildings indicated a settlement. That something unusual was "goin' on" was evident from the groups of hurrying figures, the shouts, and occasional reports of firearms.

"It's either fightin' or celcbratin', and as I allow it's that last I reckon she's come," Steven continued, "I most wish I'd "

He did not finish, for a stumble, followed by a picturesque ejaculation •which, sent the 'blue-jay fluttering into the bushes, made him turn hastily. "Halloa, Josh!" he said, slowly. "Managed to tear yourself away from the festivities at last, civ?"

Josh, a middle-aged man, short, but otherwise of generous proportions, with a lound, red face which.—as he was often told—made one hot to look at it, mopped his streaming brow and replied with a nod. Steve regarded him quizzically. :'( ' "Why. you're blushin' like a girl, Josh," lie began, only to he swiftly interrupted. "Steve, you're playin' me for an infant," Josh said, severely. "That old joke on my complexion ain't worthy of yo"s, an' wouldn't take in a blind mule; but if you mean to intermate that no news is required, I'll take it that way." He sat down on a pile of gravel and began to fill his pipe, ramming the tobacco home with extra care. His companion watched him with ill-disguised impatience—reticence was quite a new viteature in Joshua Stebb. At length, when the pipe was fairly going, Steve could stand it no longer. "Seeii' that I've teen slavin' up here all day with nothing better than a bluejay for company, an' that you've been in the gay and giddy' centre of frivolity," he said, with a wave towards the settlement below, "perhaps it ain't unreasonable to expect some news." ' "That's so" responded Stebh, stolidly. "Well, Pete Adams lost a cool five hundreif to Funny Rogers, the gamtiler, Jacobs's best mule slipped an' broke her off fore-leg, an' " He paused as Steve turned away and kicked an unoffending lump of red clay into infinitesimal fragments. "These interestin' items of social intelligence don't seem to 11 the bill." he continued. "Was there anythin' special you were efxpectin' to hear?"

Steve whirled round and regarded his partner fiercely for a moment. Then his fae> relaxed as he said:— 'All rio-ht Josh, that's one to you. Drop foolin' now, has Fairy come?" "Xo," replied the other, soberly enrnwli "But there's a young lady from Noo York who calls hersclt Miss Nora McQueen, anil at times she minds me a bit of l-er."

"Aye. thev've spoilt her, as I knew they would.'' Steve said, bitterly. "WheTi the old man was ,ju*t Jerry McQueen, the saloon-keeper, we were pood enough for her: but now she's the only daughter of Mr. McQueen, who owns the richest claims in Red Pine, and she ain't been allowed to forget it at this high-falutin' New York seminary. Did her ladyship coides'-'nd to remember ye, Josh?" he queried

"She shook hands " Josh began. ■'Having gloves on of course." sneered St»ve. with a glance at his partner's none too cleanly digits.

v "An' risked after you," continued the other, and, as the sneer on Steve's face grew more pronounced, he added. ''She was very nice, ye know, but there was a difference." Peano nodded in silence.

"Ye see, Steve," Stebb explained. >"On my way down T reckoned I would say. 'Halloa" Fairy, ve're back agin, are ve?' but somehow I found myself cnllin' her Miss McQueen before I knowed it. An' I wasn 1 ' the, onlv one, either." "Red Pine ain't noted ior timidity." Steve said, meditatively, "an' once she was just 'Fairy' to every man in it." He sat down on an upturned bucket and began to fill a pipe. Josh watched bin' in silence for some moments, and then said, suddenly: - "She ain't couip alone."

The match Steve had just struck burned nut unheeded in his fingers. His face whitened under the tan. for there was something in the speaker's tone which told him more than the words iinpticd. He did not speak, but JosTj needed no spur now. "A yaller-faced chap, with black hair an' eyes; looks Wee a half-bred V?aser.'" he said. "Wears a biled- shirt, store clothes, and flashes joolery considerable." ; 'Anrt does Fairy—that is. Miss Mc-Queen"--he corrected himself and bow-

Ed ironically towards the bushes—"think anything o'f this—this—thing V The Lushes swayed and rustled slightly as though in acknowledgment of his courtesy, and Josh dung a lump of clay into them. "Dura that blue-jay pal o' yours," he said. "I dumio her opinion of him, uut he 'pears to think an almighty lot of her—or or the old mart's dollars. He's a relation of sorts, t heard, an', if I'm any judge, Noo York ain't grievin' any over his absence." Steve did not answer; his thoughts were back in the little clearing a hundred yards away, where, two years before, a girl m a short, shabby frock, with hair the color of ripe corn, and blue eyes laden with unshed tears, had put her hand in his and made him promise to write to her. He recalled his letter-—he knew every word»-and lived again the weary months of waiting for the reply that never came. Too proud to write.again,*he had deduced his own reasons for her silence—for she was wealthy, moving in a new sphere, making new friends, and she had forgotten or despised her old ones. Little bylittle the iron had entered, and so. when the news came that she was to return, he determined to hold aloof. When he awoke irom his reverie Josh had vanished into the shanty they called home, and Steve shattered another lump of clay. What nonsense had he been thinking? After all, the girl was free—no word of love had passed between them- What did it matter to him if this dandy admirer was a scamp? he asked himself, scornfully. But he knew it did.

Why else should he have ignored his determination and visit McQueen's saloon that very evening? Mere curiositywas deemed a sufficient excuse to give Josh; but if he thought it deceived the little man, he was mistaken. Josh noticed that his partner "slicked himself up" before setting out, and he excused a soletiin little step-dance as soon as he had the cabin to himself.

Whatever faint hopes Steve might have been hav'ooring died when he entered the saloon. There was, as Josh had said, a "difference" indeed. The iliro slip of a girl had developed into a shapely, handsome young woman, fashionably dressed and perfectly at ease. Steve rnderstand just how his partner had felt, and himself hung- back until old McQueen, standing proudly by his daughter's aide, Saw hint and called him up, The girl shook hands, made a casual allusion to old times, and then turned to speajj to another of the crowd pressing round, fiei' father dragged llim to the bar.

•Give it a name, my boy!" he cried. "All free to-night, you know, in honor of my jiirl's home-coming." Then, lowering his voice he added: "What d'ye think cf her. eh? You were agin her goin'—.?aid it would spoil her. What's your idea now 5"

Steve did not answer, and the old man chuckled in gleeful triumph. "It's cost money,'' he continued, '"but I reckon it's worth it, and say, see who's talkin' to her now?"

Deanc did see, and his teeth met as i he watched her eyes light up, and the , other men tall back at the approach of \ the stranger. As Josh has said, he; looked like a : half-bred Mexican, with i lank black nair, sallow face, and shifty ; eyes. His youth, flashy attire, and evi- j dent intimacy with McQueen's beautiful daughter clearly impressed the simple—j in some ways—miners of Red Pine. | "He's a kind of distant relation she ! ■unearthed «n Noo York" McQneen confided. "Jest rollin' in money—estates in Spain, ye know—and though I don't cotton to furiners ez a rule. Norrle might do worse." Steve did not stay long. He had to [ make the acquaintance of the stranger, Paul Mendez, and with their hands theneyes met in one keen flash, and each knew the other for an enemy.

For the next few weeks Josh found his partner a burden. Nothing pleased him. A spirit of unrest seemed to have taken possession of him. and he spoke seriously of quitting Red Pine altogether. The claim, from which they were surely, if slowly, amassing a modest fortune, was put forward as his reason.

"Mebbe there's richer claims elsewhere, as you say," Stebb argued, "but there's plenty worse. Wre doin' well, and in. say, five years "

"Five years!" broke in Steve, impatiently. "I can't wait five years. What's the good of money to me when" .—he stopped short, and finished lamely —"when I'm an old man?"

The conclusion was obviously absurd, but Josh accepted it. He knew what the real trouble was, just as he know why Steve—whose visits to the settlement used to b» rare events —now went every,night, and spent more money ar, the saloon than Tie could well afford. Steve himself did not realise wh • he went; lie was simply conscious that he could not stay away. Certainly Norn gave him no encouragement. f or her manner to b ; m .vas even dis'.ant at times, and a disinterested spectator would have noticed that she was kindest to Mendez when Steve was there to see it.

The young minei knew it, and drew his own inferences. Nevertheless, wJie-i. after a few weeks, his rival openly boasted that the girl would soon be his. and produc?,! a photograph of hci self which he said she had {riven him. Steve gave hini the lie. and .luc'Ct-l t'.'t assertion by a blow which sent Mendez rolling in the dust. Nothing bat Tie quickest intervention of the hyitanduvr saved Steva from being shot down by the furious Spaniard. When Deane next met Miss McQueen his gratitude to tbose who had saved his life became a doubtful quantity.

"Mr. Deane" -he said, coldly, "the mere accident o' your being an oM friend does not entitle you to insult newer ones. I did give Paul the ph">c>-gT.-v-'i thx.cH J't silly fell(;.\ neej :. •* have made ;he fact 50 public." A slight smile and a blush accompanied the sentence, and Steve—his

teeth set in his lower lip—turned away without a word. He knew the worst now, and partly to get away from i is own thougV-., and partly in a .vn.-it of bravado v.h.eii urged him to .shovv the girl that lie did not care, he frequented the saioon more than ever, and even toJk to gambling—a thiny he had never been parL.il to. The ohf proverb, "Unlucky in love, lucky in play," did not appiy in his case, for Jic was unlucky in botii. The sums he lost moved even Josh to expostulation, and to that worthy being curtly .told to mhd his own affairs Then came a night when, disgusted with his luck, and the part he was play ing, Stev k-ft. the saloon easier than usual. Climbing the train, he was astonished to see a dark shadow srip quickly into a shanty, the owner of which—lrish Pat—lie had just left in the saloon. Noiselessly he approached and peeped thro'igh the unlatched door. The faint glimmer of a candle-end showed him th? bent form of a man groping beneath the shake-down. It was not Pat.

He drew !y.:k and waited. In a few moments the intruder slipped out. and with one stride Steve confronted him, pistol in hand. "Hands up!"

The command was obeyed so promptly that the man's hat was jerked back, and Steve saw that his capture was Paul Mendez, whose right hand stid clutchel the little leather bag of golddust which represented Irish Pat's fortune.

After the first shock of surprise Steve was conscious only of a 'feeling of triumph. This man whom McQueen thought so much of —this Spanish grandee with estates in Spain —was nothing more than a common thief, caught redhanded stealing the gold he scent so lavishly in sustaining his borrowed reputation. And this man had stolen the girl he loved. But it was his turn now.

'Keep your hands up and walk ahead," he said, grimly. "Don't drop that bag, if you want to live another minute." "Gon' to give me up?" queried the captive. "Why not go halves?" "You've guessed it," said Steve; and added, fiercely, "And if I hadn't been, I would now, you dog. Step out." The other drew hard on the cigarette which quivered between his lips, but he made another attempt.

"And the lady," he sneered. "How_ pleased she will be|" ,- Steve paused; the words went home, Shivering his dream of triumph to atoms. Thief or no. this was the man Nora loved—the man she was to wed; and though to give him to justice would save her from that, there would oe *ne shame, the blow to her pride. He made his decision quickly. "You'll have urgent business in New York to-mon-ow," he said. "And you'll not come back. You understand?"'

The thief obeyed with alacrity. A few yards away he turned his head, and saw Steve pick up the gold and re-enter the hut. His hand stole to his pistol as he paused irresolutely. Then a fiendish grin distorted his face as the murmur of approaching voices reached kirn. He hurried forward, and almost tumbled into the arms of Irish Pat and another miner

"Thought you \ T ere at home, Pat," he •aid, familiarly. "Saw you go into your shanty two minutes ago." Pat wasted no time in questions, but ran for his hut and dashed open the door just as Steve was replacing the .stolen gold. Covered by the Iristinian s revolver. Steve realised how he had been trapped, and that explanations would be useless. Hu now learned, for the first time that similar thefts had occurred during the past few days. ' At the hour fixed for the trial, the saloon—where all important events took place—was crowded. McQueen was elected judge, and the selection 01 a jury was but a matter of moments. The prisoner—his hands bound behind him, and guarded by a pair of stal. wart, armed miners—surveyed the proceedings with calm gravity. He knew his case was hopeless, and his only comforting thought was that Nora, visiting a neighlomig camp, would not be back till all was over.

One by one the victims of the previous robberies detailed their losses, am: then Irish Put told the story of the arrest, corroborated by his companion. Moreover, it was common knowledge the prisoner I>ad lost heavily at cards, and ,that supplied a motive. Even Josh, listening to the incriminating recital, could see no loophole of escape for his partner. Honesty, in such a community, was an essential factor and irom men who regarded the shooting-of a card-cheat as a justifiable act a mean thief could expect no mercy. Asked if he had anything to say, the prisoner shrugged his shoulders and was- dumb.

"Anyone want to speak ior the prisoner?'' asked the fudge. "Yes,'' said a silvery voice, and from behind the bar appeared Miss Nora. ''l've heard all th« evidence, and you've got The wrong man. dad," she said, with a feminine disregard of the judicial dignity. Then, turning to the prisoner, she asked: 'Steve, did you take the gold!" "Yes,' replied Steve, firmly; and a fipple of mirth disturbed the assembly. The yirl was nonplussed for a moment T3y the unexpected answer, but her eyes left the prisoner's face. '•from whom did you take it?" she asked, and when he would not answer she continued: "You caught the thief, took the gold from him. and when Pat arrived you were putting it back-. Isn't that it?" Still Steve was silent The girl did not falter; her eyes swept the crowd of faces v.ntil they encountered those or her so-called relative, and in a flash th,> truth came to her.

"The man you ai* trying to shieldtil.- real thief—stands there! He calls himself Mendez," she cried. The Spaniard—whiter than the slim fingers directing all eyes to him—strove vainly to speak. "Wh>- should Dean shield a man he hated?" ask«d the iudge The girl's face flushed, but she answered, proudly "For me; because he thought. I cared for—that" The Fcorn in her voice, with the ruin of his hopes in tbi* very moment of his triumph lashed Mendez to a sudden fury. With a snarling oath he wippcd out his revolver and levelled it at his accuser. Ere he could press thp trigger, however, ho tumbled headlong, an inert mass.

"I'm sorry." the judge said, regretskunk, but it couldn't be helped. Xow, boys. T put it to you that counsel for the defence has proved her ease, an' that the nrisoner the court without a stain on his character." _*. burst of cheering ratified the verdict, and the prisoner found himself +he hub of an enthusiasts nowd. which, after meeting to deprive him of his lite, now unanimously pvnrpssed a wish rt> drink his good health. When at length he managed tn escape, a desire for "solitude took him to

tin little clearing. Flinging himself down on the pine-needles lie tried to think things out. He had not been there long when the bushes rustled, and he looked up impatiently, fancying Josh had come in search of. him. But it was a girl who appeared-a girl in a shabby frock, with golden hair hanging in a plait behind—and at the sight of her he started up. 'Fairy!" he cried. And again, "Fairy!" "I've come to answer your letter," she ■aid. "I got it this morning— sent on from. New York—it was in a mail robbery, and they've only just found it. I waited and waited for it, and Wien, when jou didn't even com? to welcome me home, I you fli,j n > t _ SRrSi » The "Blue ey6s We're" dOWrieas'c HOW, aild S smile trembled on her lips as she added. "But if you had come her ladyship would have condescended to remember you, Steve." "You heard that?" ho. cried. ""* " 'Dura that blue-jay pal o' yours/ 7 she said, mimicking Josh, and flinging an imaginaiy piei* of clay in the bushes. "Yes, I heard all, and that's what made me act" so mean to you, Steve; I wanted to pretend I didn't care either.'' "Pretend!" Steve repeated, and thenwell, the blue-jay Is nol one of those little birds that tell tales. "And you are sure they haven't quite spoilt me, Steve?" she teased. "Quite sure," he answered; "but"— and his eye* laughed—"l expect I shall.'!