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Meadowlark Basin

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<h2>CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE</h2> <h3>"DISARM THE PRISONER!"</h3> "Got your notebook handy, Marge?" Young Bud, looking altogether different, though not so handsome, in a tailored suit left over from college, and a new straw hat that gave no excuse for wearing cameo pins in the brim, crossed the lobby of Fort Benton's best hotel to where Marge was sitting beside Maw staring out at the shifting crowds with puckered brows, her thoughts no doubt dwelling upon picturesque effects. "This is Miss Bonnie Prosser, and I thought you might like to make a note of the fact that she is the high priestess in the temple where I worship; the goddess of the Golden Arrow, and—" "For the love of Moses, what kinda talk is that, Bud Larkin? Bonnie's too sweet and pretty a girl to be made fun of right in public, like this. I been waitin' for a chance to git you two girls acquainted," cried Maw, from the depths of a leather rocking chair. "Why—why—she's exactly like my heroine!" cried Marge, her eyes dancing with excitement. "I wrote the sweetest love scene just before we left home—" "Too late, too late," crowed Bud, his lips curving into the smile of a happy boy. "I beat you to it, Marge." "Now, hush," drawled Bonnie, in a voice amazingly low and sweet and vibrant—just the voice one would want to hear from that smooth young throat and lips formed for laughter. "I'd love to be your heroine, Miss—may I call you Marge? I've so wanted a girl like you to come into the range country and give me a sympathetic ear now and then. Ever since I first heard about you I've been planning to come over and steal you. We live right next to the reservation, and there's the dearest old squaw I want you to write up. And I know so many places where I want to take you. When this trial is over, I want you to come home with me. We're going to be the best of friends. I always know, the moment I look at a person. Don't you?" "Them girls don't need you, Buddy," Maw shrewdly observed. "Set down here where I can talk to you. Lean over here. Are you and Bonnie engaged?" "Yes, ma'am," Bud confessed meekly. "Have been, Maw, for almost a month." "Well, I ain't a mite su'prised, and I'm real glad. Set down, can't you? Let 'em alone till they get acquainted. I want to talk to you private. Now. What kinda luck did you have, Buddy? Are you goin' to be able to give that money back to Palmer—or the bank, or whoever it belongs to?" All the joy went out of Bud's face. He shook his head, his lips pressed tight. "Who told you, Maw?" "Lark told me. Who else do you think? You wouldn't, I notice. I was so scared and worried when you stayed out in the hills like you did, Buddy, that I thought Lark oughta get you out of the country some way. I thought you was on the dodge for killin' them Palmer men, mebbe. So Lark told me what it was all about. Butch is in town, did you know it?" Bud lifted his shoulders in a gesture of bitter defeat. "I didn't know it, but I can't do anything, anyway. I saw Kid, and he told me he's been watching Butch and he hasn't got a thing on him. I'm certain Butch did it, but—Maw, there isn't a gopher hole between Palmer's and the Frying Pan that I haven't searched. Kid claims he combed the ranch too. If he turned up anything, he's keeping it mighty quiet—but I don't believe he has, I think Butch has simply outguessed us." "Well, don't you have no trouble with Butch. You didn't bring no gun, did you, Buddy?" "Butch took my gun away from me when he caught me in swimming." His eyes evaded hers. "You heard about that, I suppose." "Yes, I did—and I heard too that Butch give your gun and Lark's rifle to Kid, and had him send 'em over home. Bob took 'em back down to you, so you needn't to think you can lie to me, Buddy. Don't you pack that gun around this town, or you'll get yourself into trouble, sure. You think what that would mean to Bonnie. I'm real glad she's got some say in the matter now, Bud. She'll hold you down—I'm sure I can't!" "What do you expect me to do if Butch makes a crack at me? Stand and take it?" Bud's eyes grew stubborn. "Butch won't make no crack at you. Kid told Lark he'd had a talk with Butch, and Butch promised him faithful he'd keep his own side the road. He ain't goin' to crowd you, Buddy, and you mustn't go glowerin' around edgin' him up to a fight. Them eyes of yourn git terrible stormy when you're all wrought up. You think about that nice girl and forget Butch." "You dragged me away from two nice girls, Maw, and opened the disagreeable subject yourself." "I know I did, but I was kinda lonesome for you, Bud. I ain't seen anything of you skurcely since that money was stole. Lark says Palmer's goin' to hold the bank responsible for it if it ain't returned. Palmer claims there was six thousand dollars, and he just as good as accused Delkin of takin' it himself. It'll likely come out at the trial. Lark says if the bank does have to stand good, he'll pay Delkin himself ruther than have 'em think—" "And admit that Jelly and I took the money! I thought Lark had a little sense. Maw, if Lark does that, I'll choke the truth out of Butch Cassidy if I have to do it right under the judge's nose!" "Now, now, Buddy, don't you go and git on your high horse again! You know as well as I do that Lark's soft-hearted as any old woman you ever saw. He can't bear to have Delkin feel—" "Fine way to salve his feelings and sharpen his belief that Jelly and I are thieves! Where's Lark? I want to have a talk with him." Maw stood up and looked around the lobby and sat down again with smug satisfaction. "Lark ain't here. I dunno where he is, Bud. He was talkin' about ridin' out to some ranch or other to look at some cattle they wanted to sell. You wait and see how things works out at the trial. I heard some one sayin' the jury's most all chose, and the show'll commence in the mornin'. They say that Melrose feller that Palmer's got to keep him from gittin' hung is a wonder, Buddy. It's kinda s'spicioned around that he's got a pretty strong defense. I don't see how he can have. Can you?" Bud brought his wandering glance from the two girls sitting in a corner with their heads together in confidential whisperings. He looked at Maw and cleared the impatience from his eyes. After all, who was more loyal than Maw? "Palmer has an alibi, you know, and Bat Johnson and Ed White are conveniently gone where they can't turn State's evidence, even if they wanted to. A good lawyer can do wonders with a situation like that, Maw. Where's Lightfoot? He came with you, didn't he?" Maw gave a sudden laugh, turned her new teeth sidewise in her mouth and necessitated some expert manipulations behind her handkerchief. "Consarn them teeth! I've a good mind to throw 'em out the window. Lightfoot got right out of the hack as we was comin' from the depot and started in drawin' pitchers of that Injun camp up there on the hill. I wouldn't be a mite su'prised if the sheriff had to go up there after him when it comes his turn to testify in court. Buddy, you oughta take him over onto the rese'vation some time. He never seen any Injuns in Smoky Ford—and I never told him why the Injuns all hate that place so. Thought I'd leave that to you. There! See that big, fine-lookin' man comin' across the street, Buddy? That's Palmer's lawyer. They say the county attorney would give a good deal to know what he's goin' to spring on 'em to-morrow. Here comes the girls. Ain't they pretty and sweet? I bet they're up to somethin', the way their eyes is dancin'!" Arms twined around each other, schoolgirl fashion, the two girls came up and perched on either arm of Maw's great upholstered chair. That buried Maw from sight of everything, so they laughed and accepted the chairs Bud was placing for them. Bonnie leaned forward, took one of Maw's tiny hands in her own and patted it. "What shall be done to punish a young man who tells lies to an innocent young lady from the East?" she asked gravely. "I have just heard some awful whoppers which a certain person told Marge. And Marge," she said impressively, "is my best friend. I have heard about the Iowa frogs and—" "I surrender." Bud interrupted her and threw both hands in the air. Maw gave him a quick look, sucked in her teeth apprehensively as if she were afraid of losing them into her lap, and glanced at Bonnie's hand that had one finger extended and pointing like a gun at Bud. "Yes, disarm the prisoner, Maw," said Bonnie. "I've got the drop." Maw reached out and got the gun tucked inside Bud's waistband, where it had been hidden from sight; looked at it, blinking tears from her round eyes, and shoved it down beside her in the big chair. "You may take down your arms and march ahead of us to that drug store on the corner. Two maidens in distress want lemon soda. Will you come, Maw?" "No," said Maw in a voice that shook perceptibly, "I don't believe I will. You childern run along and—and have a good time!" "Listen, Maw. We'll bring you some—some—" Bonnie leaned and whispered in Maw's ear. "Yes—yes—all right—yes-s—" Maw's hand closed convulsively over the gun. "And thank the good Lord for that!" Maw breathed fervently, while she watched the three cross the street. "My, my, what turrible liars men do make of us women—keepin' 'em outa trouble." She got up, looked shyly around to see if any there observed her deformity, and waddled away to her room, the gun hidden in a fold of her skirt. <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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