Part 13 (1/2)

Curious that he should pull off that cut-up stuff there, infernally risky I call it. He couldn't have been doing it for my benefit. What do you make of it, Steve?”

”Probably some crazy, reckless flier getting ready for a contest,”

Courtlandt observed, and disappeared below the bank.

Doc Hand and Greyson left directly after luncheon. Benson packed the basket which some of the boys would take back to the ranch before he rode off to Upper Farm on an errand for Courtlandt. Steve helped Jerry mount and swung into the saddle. The girl tightened her rein then held up an arresting finger.

”Listen! The Kreutzer Sonata,” she whispered.

From somewhere up-stream came the notes of a violin. There was a rare brightness, an aerial quality to the music that most artists take too gravely. The variations of the slow movements gave the sense of a glorified voice. Jerry drew a long, tremulous breath as the last note died away.

”That must have been the Man of Mystery,” she confided in a low voice, as though fearful even at that distance of disturbing the musician. ”I don't care if he did drop from the sky, if he never receives letters, he plays like--like an angel--if angels can play,” with a laugh. Courtlandt looked up-stream as though mystified.

”I knew a man who played that sonata, just like that, but--but it can't possibly be he. Who did you say you thought it was?”

”Bill Small, the range-rider at the B C. Mrs. Carey told me about him when I called there yesterday. She said that the boys of the Double O and X Y Z outfits trailed over there every chance they could get to hear him play. That reminds me,” her beautiful face glowed with enthusiasm, ”I--I wonder if--if the boys of our outfit would care to have me play and sing for them? I should so love to do it.”

”Care! I know they would. Pete says that they line up outside the court wall after dinner on the chance of hearing you sing.”

”Really--really, Steve? I'd rather have that tribute than--than my name in electric lights on the Great White Way. Ask them up this afternoon.

We'll have an honest-to-goodness musicale with Signora Geraldina Courtlandta as head-liner. Hurry!” She touched her horse with her heels.

”It's a pity that Bruce Greyson didn't wait. He----”

”Your proposition was to sing for the Double O outfit. Greyson doesn't come in on that.”

”Ogre! I can hear my bones scrunch between those strong white teeth of yours when you look at me like that.”

”Then remember that you're married.”

”Are you sure that the ceremony wasn't a dream?” with a provocative ripple of laughter. ”Do you know, Steve, somehow I never can think of you as Bened.i.c.k the married man. You--you are such a good-looking boy.”

She was the incarnation of girlish diablerie indulging an irresistible desire to torment. The color burned to Courtlandt's temples. He caught the bridle and drew Patches close. His eyes compelled Jerry's.

”Do you know what happens to a person who rocks a boat, Mrs.

Courtlandt?” he demanded autocratically.

”Do you know what happens when a person gets unbearably dictatorial, Mr.

Courtlandt? This!” She slapped her horse smartly on the hip. Patches threw up his head and broke from Steve's hold. The girl looked over her shoulder. Lips and eyes challenged in unison as she sang mischievously:

”'My road calls me, lures me West, east, south and north; Most roads lead me homewards, But my road leads----'”

Patches stepped in a gopher hole, which, feat brought the song to an abrupt termination.

When she met him in the late afternoon on the terrace which overlooked the court Jerry was as coolly friendly as though the little pa.s.sage-at-arms, which had left Steve's pulses hammering, had never taken place. The piano had been moved out and the outfit, in its Sunday best, occupied the rustic seats and benches and overflowed to the turf paths. The girl felt choky as the men rose to greet her. They looked so big and fine, so like eager, wistful boys. She smiled at them through a mist.

”I'll sing what I think you'll like, then you must ask for anything you want. Please smoke,” she added, as she realized what it was that had made them seem so unfamiliar. They looked from her to Steve. He nodded.

With delighted grins they dropped back to their places and proceeded with the business of rolling cigarettes.

Courtlandt and Benson took their places on the edge of the terrace.