Once again the Peaceful Hart ranch lay in brooding silence under the shadow of the bluff. A few crickets chirped shrilly along the trail, and from their sudden hush as he drew near marked unerringly his passing. Along the spring-fed creek the frogs croaked a tuneless medley before him, and, like the crickets, stopped abruptly and waited in absolute silence to take up their night chant again behind him. His horse stepped softly in the deep sand of the trail, and, when he found that his rider refused to let him stop at the stable-door, shook his head in mute displeasure, and went quietly on. As he neared the silent house, the faint creak of saddle-leather and the rattle of spur-chains against his iron stirrups were smothered in the whispering of the treetops in the grove, so that only the quick hushing of night noises alone betrayed him to any wakeful ear.
He was guilty of staring hard at that corner of the house where he knew Evadna slept, and of scowling over the vague disquiet which the thought of her caused him. No girl had ever troubled his mind before. It annoyed him that the face and voice of Evadna obtruded, even upon his thoughts of other things.
The grove was quiet, and he could hear Gene's unmistakable snore over by the pond--the only sound save the whispering of the trees, which went on, unmindful of his approach. It was evident, he thought, that the ghost was effectually laid--and on the heels of that, as he rode out from the deep shade of the grove and on past the garden to the meadows beyond, he wondered if, after all, it was again hardily wandering through the night; for he thought he glimpsed a figure which flitted behind a huge rock a few rods in advance of him, and his eyes were not used to playing him tricks.
He gave a twitch of his fingers upon the reins, and turned from the trail to investigate. He rode up to the rock, which stood like an island of shade in that sea of soft moonlight, and, peering into the shadows, spoke a guarded challenge:
"Who's that?"
A figure detached itself without sound from the blot of darkness there, and stood almost at his stirrup.
"Yo' Good Injun--me likum for talk yo'."
Good Indian was conscious of a distinct disappointment, though he kept it from his voice when he answered:
"Oh, it's you, Peppajee. What you do here? Why you no sleepum yo' wikiup?"Peppajee held up a slim, brown hand for silence, and afterward rested it upon the saddle-fork.
"Yo' heap frien' Peaceful. Me heap frien' all same. Mebbyso we talk. Yo' get down. No can see yo', mebbyso; yo' no likum bad man for se--" He stepped back a pace, and let Good Indian dismount; then with a gesture he led him back into the shadow of the rock.
"Well, what's the row?" Good Indian asked impatiently, and curiously as well.
Peppajee spoke more hastily than was usual. "Me watchum Man-that-catchum-fish. Him hee-eeap kay bueno. Me no sabe why him walk, walk in night--me heap watchum.""You mean Baumberger? He's all right. He comes down here to catchum many fish--trout, up in the Malad, you sabe. Heap friend Peaceful. You no likum?""Kay bueno." Peppajee rested a forefinger upon Good Indian's arm. "Sun up there," he pointed high in the west. "Me go all same Hartley. Come stable--Pete stable--me walkum close--no makum noise. Me hear talk. Stoppum--no can see--me hear much bad talk. All time me hear, heap likum for steal dis ranch. Me no sabe"--his tone was doubtful for a space--"all same, me hear stealum this ranch. Man, you callum--""Baumberger?" suggested Grant.
"Him. All same Baumberga, him talk Man-that-coughs. All time say stealum ranch. Makum much bad talk, them mans. Me come ranch, me tellum Peaceful, him all time laugh, me. All time shakum head. Mebbyso thinkum I lie--shont-isham!""What more you do?" Good Indian, at least, did not laugh.
"Me go camp. Me thinkum, thinkum all time. Dat man have bad heart. Kay bueno. No can sleep--thinkum mebbyso do bad for Peaceful. Come ranch, stop all time dark, all time heap watchum.
Bimeby, mebbyso man--all same yo' callum Baumberga--him come, look, so--" He indicated, by a great craning of neck in all directions, the wariness of one who goes by stealth. "Him walk still all time, go all time ova there." He swept his arm toward the meadows. "Me go still, for watchum. Yo' come, mebbyso make heap much noise--kay bueno. Dat mans, him hear, him heap scare.
Me tellum, yo' mebbyso go still." He folded his arms with a gesture of finality, and stood statue-like in the deep gloom beside the rock.
Good Indian fingered his horse's mane while he considered the queer story. There must be something in it, he thought, to bring Peppajee from his blankets at midnight and to impel him, unfriendly as he usually seemed, to confide his worry to him at once and without urging. And yet, to steal the Peaceful Hart ranch--the idea was ludicrous. Still, there was no harm in looking around a bit. He sought a sagebrush that suited his purpose, tied his horse to it, stooped, and took tho clanking Mexican spurs from his heels, and touched Peppajee on the shoulder.
