ira ambled along through the woods, emerging at barrett’s where the dubious rumors of his past career always assured him a ready welcome. he had never been of the barrett’s set, preferring the quiet of the farm, and the adventurous game of quietly plaguing aunt mira. but they knew him for a former sailor and soldier of fortune (or ill-fortune) and they respected him for the dark traditions which were associated with his name.
he sauntered along the shabby little street till he came to the house of luke meadows. he had no better plan than just a quiet tour of observation and inquiry. he intended to chat with luke. but his curiosity had been greatly enlivened since he had seen the deer.
but at luke’s house he was doomed to surprise and disappointment. the alien had gone away with his little girl. there had been no furniture worth moving and the westerner’s few portable belongings (so the loiterers said) had been taken in a shabby bag.
luke had not vouchsafed his neighbors any information touching the cause of his departure or his destination. there was a picture, unconsciously and crudely drawn by “missie ellis,” the neighbor to whose care meadows had consigned his little daughter just before the scout had saved him from arrest and jail. she seemed a motherly person, well chosen by the man who, in his extremity, had thought only of his little daughter.
“i see them go,” said mrs. ellis, “and he was carryin’ her in one arm and the bag in the other. they went up the road toward dawson’s and i says to my man, i says, sumpin is wrong and they’ve gone to git the train. the county men was allus after him, houndin’ him and houndin’ him; lord knows, i never knew him to do no harm but shoot game. and the little kiddie, she was the livin’ image of her mother. i nursed the poor woman when she died of the flu and luke he jes stood there by the bed and lookin’ at her and sayin’ not a word. even after she went not a word did he say.
“she was out of her head, she was, and she was sayin’ how they were back in cody where they came from and he says, ‘yes, mommy, we’ll go back; soon as you can travel we’ll go back.’ they was strangers here; i guess they was allus thinkin’ and frettin’ about their big wild west. he says once how he could see miles of prairies, poor man. sech eyes as he had! seemed as if he could see across miles of prairies.
“to-day he had some trouble with terry again. i don’t know what it was all about, but there was a youngster over here, a fine likely lookin’ young lad and they took him away to chandler. i says to my man, they’ve gone to make the poor, frightened boy tell something and then come back an’ arrest luke. so i guess he goes away while it was yet time—lord knows what it was all about.”
ira walked through the poor, little, deserted house and even he was touched by its bareness. curious, gossipy neighbors accompanied him, commenting upon the brown, taciturn man who had gone and taken away with him the one thing of value that he possessed, his little girl. if he had gone for fear westy might weaken, under some rustic third degree, and incriminate him, he might have saved himself the slight inconvenience of a hasty departure. the scout who had seen to it that the little motherless girl and her father were not parted, was not likely to say one word more than he intended to say to the authorities or to any one else.
one thing ira did find in the little house which interested him. this was a collection of as many as a dozen empty tinfoil packages on the wooden shelf above the cooking stove. according to the labels they had contained mechanic’s delight plug cut tobacco.
