1 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE MAN WHO WAS GUILTY. A Novel. 
 
 i6mo, 1.25. 
 THE ABANDONED CLAIM. A California Story 
 
 for Young People. i6mo, #1.25. 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & COMPANY, 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK.
 
 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 BY 
 
 FLORA HAINES LOUGHEAD 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFL1N AND COMPANY 
 
 (F)i- Rilursibe press,
 
 COPYKIQHT, 1896, BY FLORA HAINES LOUGHEAD 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
 
 ps 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER FAOE 
 
 I. SlNGEB AND PAINTEB 1 
 
 II. LAYING DOWN THE LAW .... 5 
 
 III. A FRIEND IN NEED 21 
 
 IV. A WARRANT THAT WAS NOT SWORN . . 25 
 V. Miss JUDITH'S INVESTMENT .... 31 
 
 VI. UNDER SIEGE 37 
 
 VII. A WILLFUL WOMAN 51 
 
 VIII. AN ARMISTICE 63 
 
 IX. THE BLACK CURTAIN 69 
 
 X. AN ALARMING DISCOVERY .... 75 
 
 XI. A SUBTERRANEAN VOLLEY .... 89 
 
 XII. MR. PAUL TO THE RESCUE .... 97 
 
 XIII. Miss JUDITH FEELS THE INFLUENCE OF THE 
 
 BLACK CURTAIN 108 
 
 XIV. Our OF THE SHADOW 118 
 
 XV. GOOD COMRADES 121 
 
 XVI. A LETTER 137 
 
 XVII. Miss JUDITH'S DISAPPEARANCE . . . 141 
 
 XVHL A MYSTERIOUS TRYST 159 
 
 XIX. A STORMY INTERVIEW 164 
 
 XX. BOY AND MAN 168 
 
 XXI. AN OLD FRIEND 184 
 
 XXII. AN APPEAL FOR CLEMENCY .... 194 
 
 XXIII. A MOUNTAIN OF GOLD . . . . - . 198 
 
 XXIV. A STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT . . . 207 
 XXV. ROB TELLS HIS STORY 212 
 
 XXVI. " WAITING TILL THE CLOUDS PASS BY " . 217 
 
 XXVII. THE TREASURE-SEEKERS 222 
 
 XXVIII. WINGED RICHES .231 
 
 XXIX. THE INTERVIEWER INTERVIEWED . . . 239 
 
 XXX. CALAMITY 246 
 
 XXXI. A COWARD MEETS HIS DESERTS . . . 253
 
 iv CONTENTS 
 
 XXXII. HEROISM 260 
 
 XXXIII. MR. PAUL BEHIND THE BLACK CURTAIN . 270 
 
 XXXIV. ROB RECEIVES A COMMISSION . . . 275 
 XXXV. ON THE TRACK OF A COUNTERFEITER . . 279 
 
 XXXVL THE MAN IN THE PRIVATE CAR ... 284 
 
 XXXVII. ROB'S POLITICAL CONVERSION .... 290 
 
 XXXVIII. A CHAPTER OF REVELATIONS . . . 298 
 
 XXXIX. THE SHERIFF MEETS HIS WATERLOO . . 302 
 
 XL. THE BLACK CURTAIN is LIFTED . . . 309 
 
 XLI. THE BLACK CURTAIN FALLS .... 319 
 
 XLIL THE HISTORY OF THE BLACK CURTAIN . 322 
 
 XLHL CROSS PURPOSES 329 
 
 XLIV. BOHEMIANS TO THE RESCUE .... 333 
 
 XLV. THE WOMAN OF THE PORTRAIT . . . 343 
 
 XL VI. "THE DEAREST WOMAN IN THE WORLD" . 347 
 
 XL VII. AMY JUDITH'S OPPORTUNITY .... 351 
 
 XL VIII. RENUNCIATION 357 
 
 XLIX. LIGHT IN DARKNESS 363
 
 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 SINGER AND PAINTER 
 
 ONE night a great audience gathered in a fashion 
 able hall to listen to a voice. 
 
 It is only once in many years that a voice is born 
 into the world to rejoice all mankind with its sweet 
 ness and power. Even then, the precious gift is of 
 ten misused and injured beyond repair before it has 
 won recognition. This voice had been protected and 
 nurtured and trained like some rare and sensitive 
 plant, and it had expanded and taken to itself new 
 grace and melody, as the plant puts forth buds and 
 blossoms and grows apace. The critic had heard it 
 and been unstinted in his praise ; and the dilettante 
 had listened and almost forgotten to find fault ; and 
 now the common multitude were waiting to render 
 the final verdict. 
 
 The singer faced the people without fear. Her 
 time of triumph was at hand, but she thought not of 
 self nor of the plaudits of her hearers. To her the 
 voice was a divine gift, to be divinely used. When 
 she sang she forgot self, forgot her listeners ; all that
 
 2 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 was earthly fell away, and she reached upward to 
 the stars. 
 
 The orchestra played an inspiriting strain, which 
 died away in a low, faint prelude. There was a hush 
 throughout the hall, and the people waited in pleased 
 expectancy as the girl began to sing the famous aria 
 from Norma. 
 
 But why the uneasy stir throughout the house, the 
 disappointed glances, the spots of flame that glowed 
 in the singer's pale cheeks, her startled and appeal 
 ing eyes ? 
 
 Instead of a pure, sweet volume of melody welling 
 from an inexhaustible fountain, her notes were like 
 the pealing of a muffled bell. She sang bravely on, 
 summoning all her strength and all her art to con 
 quer the strange huskiness that was overpowering 
 her. Those who watched her closely saw her slight 
 form tremble and sway, the bright flush on her face 
 fade into a deathly pallor, the unshed tears gather 
 in her eyes. Then, while the same appalling silence 
 prevailed throughout the audience, she turned and 
 left the stage, an uncrowned little Queen of Song, 
 dethroned with her foot on the royal dais. / 
 
 The thoughtless exposure of an hour had ruined 
 the promise of a lifetime, and the voice was slain. 
 
 And the singer went out into the darkness and the 
 night. 
 
 That same day a painter finished a commission on 
 which he had been working early and late, and 
 turned from the order of his patron to set down on 
 canvas, before the mood should fail him, an inspira-
 
 SINGER AND PAINTER 3 
 
 tion of his own soul. He mixed his colors and plied 
 his brush with feverish haste, for the light of day 
 was waning. Diligently as he labored, it was fruit 
 less effort. His wonted cunning, that mingling of 
 delicate fancy and consummate skill which had made 
 him the foremost man of the day in the younger 
 ranks of his profession, seemed suddenly to have 
 failed him. A strange blur was on the canvas. The 
 room seemed to reel about him. A brother artist 
 came into the studio and watched him for awhile in 
 silence. At length he spoke : 
 
 " Hang it, Armitage ! What are you trying to 
 do, anyway ? Is that a brook or a road ? Is this a 
 tree or a man ? And why in art should you paint 
 that sky green ? Is this some latest fantasy of the 
 French landscape school ? " 
 
 Armitage caught the tone of genuine vexation un 
 derlying his comrade's badinage, and realized that 
 he was sincere. He stood off and surveyed the can 
 vas, but could see only a meaningless daub of form 
 and color. He turned to the picture he had com 
 pleted that morning, and which had already received 
 his patron's praises and the gracious approval of the 
 press. A singular haze seemed to obscure it. 
 
 " It 's all one to me, Lane. I believe my brain is 
 going." 
 
 " Nonsense, Armitage ! It 's not so bad as that. 
 But if I were you, I 'd see an oculist without delay." 
 
 The next day Armitage received his verdict. His 
 career was ended. Unless he should put aside brush 
 and palette, and give himself to a wholly different 
 vocation, the man who had given so many delightful
 
 4 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 visions to humanity, and whose future no man in his 
 profession had dared to measure, must sit in dark 
 ness all his life. 
 
 Thus wantonly does Fate weave her web, only to 
 cut the threads at the moment when the design is 
 well-nigh perfected, and the strivings of a lifetime 
 near their fruition.
 
 CHAPTER H 
 
 LAYING DOWN THE LAW 
 
 A PLEASANT brook, having its source in the high 
 mountains, and flowing down through wooded foot 
 hills of the Coast Range to join the larger stream 
 which breaks the monotony of the broad valley be 
 low, beyond which a dimpling sheet of sunshine 
 marks the beginning of the vast western sea. Above 
 the brook, on one side, a steep bluff, terminating in 
 a noble tableland, where clumps of live-oaks spread 
 cool shadows over the parched grasses of early sum 
 mer. On the other side of the stream a long, level 
 strip of rich alluvial land, but slightly elevated 
 above it and covered with a stately growth of syca 
 mores and alders. In the bed of the brook mossy 
 boulders interrupt the crystal current or overhang 
 dark pools where glittering shapes with rainbow 
 tints flash swiftly from sunlight to shadow. Tangles 
 of wild blackberry vines, roped through and through 
 with late blooming clematis, cover the ground, and 
 birds sing gayly in the leafy thickets overhead, or 
 dart downward to dip their soft plumage in the shal 
 lows and to slake parched little throats, poised on 
 projecting stones in mid-stream. 
 
 On the high ground to the west of the gulch a 
 woman superintended the erection of an extraordi 
 nary dwelling-house. This structure was being un-
 
 6 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 loaded from a large farm-wagon, drawn by four stout 
 horses, and it was being set up in sections. The 
 builder, a gaunt, elderly man, with a kindly twinkle 
 in his eye, could not repress a certain humorous grat 
 ification which he felt in this triumph of modern in 
 genuity. 
 
 When he reached a certain stage, he stood off and 
 reviewed his work with a chuckle of satisfaction. 
 
 " Give a woman her head, and it beats all how 
 she'll contrive!" he cordially attested. "We've 
 only got to clap on the roof," indicating something 
 resembling a huge jointed sheet of pasteboard, which 
 was leaning against an oak tree near by, " hang on 
 the doors and sashes, and set this truck inside," wav 
 ing his hand in the direction of a tiny gasoline stove, 
 a couple of chairs, a tiny dresser, a spring mattress 
 on short legs, a bamboo table, and several boxes, 
 " and I '11 eat my head, Miss Judith, if you won't 
 have the neatest, snuggest little cabin in the Vernal 
 Hills. House, owner, and furniture all packed up 
 here in one load, and not a very heavy one at 
 that ! " He chuckled again, glancing at the slight 
 figure standing in the shadow of the gnarled oak. 
 
 The woman resented this reference to her stature, 
 drawing herself up rather stiffly and lifting her head 
 proudly, so that a pert little chin became the most 
 conspicuous feature of the small face hidden beneath 
 an odd little shaker bonnet, with dark blue binding, 
 puffed crown, and frill. 
 
 "I I 'm sure Jack Jack Jack's beanstalk 
 was n't a cir-cir-circumstance to it. And it 's got 
 a heap better foun-foundations, to say nothing of no
 
 LAYING DOWN THE LAW 7 
 
 ogre waiting to gob-gobble you ! " attested a tall, 
 lanky youth who had been eagerly assisting in the 
 erection of this unique domicile. 
 
 "Now you, Orlando, you shut up and tend to 
 business. What you mean, anyhow, trying to skeer 
 Miss Judith, talking about ogres an' sech like?" 
 demanded the old man severely, calling his errant 
 scion to strict account. "'T ain't altogether the 
 boy's fault, ma'am," he hastened to explain. " He 's 
 a regular bookworm, Orlando is, an' his maw she 's 
 always been encouraging him to read story-books. 
 He can't swallow his ham an' eggs of a morning, if 
 you '11 believe me, without a book propped up afore 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, I 'm not in the least afraid," returned the 
 lady lightly. " And as for ogres, I 'm quite used 
 to them. I've been meeting them all my life, at 
 every turn of my path." 
 
 Both men looked mystified. The older was plainly 
 disposed to institute an inquiry into the lady's san 
 ity, then and there. 
 
 "At present there is, fortunately, no ogre to 
 trouble my castle ; and if you hurry, Mr. Birdsall," 
 she slyly added, " I really believe you can get my 
 house all up in another hour." 
 
 At this unmistakable hint the two resumed their 
 labors, while the lady began unpacking some dainty 
 sash curtains and various feminine fittings and 
 adornments, and gravely entered upon the task of 
 furnishing her dwelling while the builders were giv 
 ing it the finishing touches. 
 
 Having hung several swinging sashes in the win-
 
 8 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 dow casements, and tested the front door, which 
 swung noiselessly on its hinges, and was supplied 
 with a nicely fitting bolt of ponderous size, out of 
 all proportion to the strength and resistance of the 
 edifice it was designed to protect, farmer Birdsall 
 untied his patient team and prepared to return to 
 the valley below, promising the lady that he would 
 always be on hand to render her any required ser 
 vice, an assurance young Orlando echoed with an 
 unction that did amends for his halting speech. 
 
 The lady listened absently ; her attention seemed 
 to be directed to some sound up the canon. 
 
 "What is that?" she asked sharply. "I have 
 been hearing it all the morning." 
 
 All hearkened. From across the gulch came the 
 unmistakable thud of an axe, muffled by the bank 
 of mist that had drifted up from the sea the preced 
 ing night, and was slowly dissolving in the after- , 
 noon sunshine. The crags above echoed the sound. 
 
 " I swan ! " exclaimed Birdsall the father, drop 
 ping the lines and preparing to laboriously descend 
 from his elevated seat. 
 
 " It is some one on my land," declared the wo 
 man indignantly. 
 
 " Some blamed old greasers. They 're always 
 cutting down oak timber wherever they can get a 
 hold on 't. Now, I just would n't wonder if 't was 
 that Cota crowd that lives over the slope yon, a 
 clear three mile away. They 're harmless enough ; 
 got three hundred acres as prime barley land as 
 there is around, but rather 'n put it into hay or corn 
 or potatoes, they '11 climb the ridge to cut wood on
 
 LAYING DOWN THE LAW 9 
 
 government land and sneak it down on burros. 
 I 'm afraid you '11 have no end of trouble with them, 
 Miss Judith, and that 's a fact." 
 
 " Miss Judith, the the the days of chivalry 
 may be go-gone to the dogs, but if you say the 
 word, I '11 take my my my shotgun and crawl 
 along the bluff and pep-pep-pepper the whole crowd. 
 I will, 'pon 'pon my word, if it costs me my 
 life." 
 
 " Stop your foolishness, sonny," said the father 
 calmly. " We don't want no blood and thunder 
 business round here. It 's an ugly thing to run up 
 agin, but what we want is to consider this matter 
 impassionately an' jewdiciously. If you don't mind 
 having the firewood cleaned out of that gulch, Miss 
 Judith " - 
 
 " But I do mind. I shall not let them carry off 
 a single stick," she returned, with decision. 
 
 "Then you better let me go down and have a 
 word with them. I '11 lay down the law to them." 
 
 " No. Go straight home. It 's past your dinner 
 hour now, and your wife will be waiting. I can lay 
 down the law to them myself. They won't dare " 
 
 She did not finish the sentence, but with com 
 pressed lips and a little toss of her head suggested 
 the dark fate that would overtake the malefactors, 
 in case they should venture to resist the rights of a 
 landed proprietor. 
 
 Yet when the rattle and rumble of the departing 
 team had died away down the hillside, she almost 
 regretted that she had not accepted the old man's 
 kindly offer. Moving toward the gulch, and stand-
 
 10 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 ing at the head of the steep trail leading down to 
 the water, she became conscious that the dull stroke 
 of the axe had given way to a new and even more 
 significant sound, the sharp hiss of a saw as it 
 gnawed its way through green timber. 
 
 A new and alarming possibility arose before her. 
 Suppose that a tribe of squatters should be endeav 
 oring to take possession of her land. It seemed a 
 reckless proceeding for one small woman, unarmed, 
 to attempt to defy a party of reckless squatters. 
 She had been long enough upon the coast to know 
 something of the character and methods of these 
 people. She had read of the manner in which 
 bands of men, some of them outlaws, and others 
 aliens, yet contrived to defeat the rights of honest 
 settlers. She had read of roads and trails blocked 
 or rendered impassable, of disputes over boundary 
 lines where lives had been taken and foul murders 
 remained unavenged. Yet the sense of proprietor 
 ship, the stout conviction of inviolate personal right 
 which has before now made heroes of cowards, was 
 strong within her. 
 
 Stealing softly down the trail, she succeeded in 
 crossing the stream. Threading the tangle of briers 
 on the opposite bank, and passing a jutting ledge, 
 she came suddenly upon a clearing, the centre of 
 the operations to which she had been hearkening. 
 
 It was a relief to find only one man, a strong, 
 athletic fellow in overalls and white sweater, who 
 was kneeling, saw in hand, with his back to her. 
 When she perceived his occupation, her indignation 
 blazed out afresh.
 
 LAYING DOWN THE LAW 11 
 
 Upon a rude ground sill, laid of rough hewn 
 young alders, he was actually laying the floor of a 
 house. He sprang to his feet as she succeeded in 
 making her voice heard above the scream of the 
 saw. In spite of the tumult of wrath that surged 
 within her, she could not but appreciate his deferen 
 tial manner. 
 
 " Madam ! How can I serve you ? " 
 
 He spoke with formal courtesy, removing his hat 
 as he addressed her. In dismay she observed that, 
 instead of the rough boor or ignorant Mexican she 
 had expected to deal with, this was a gentleman; 
 and, although he spoke politely, it was very plain 
 that he regarded her presence as a most distaste 
 ful intrusion. 
 
 Over Miss Judith swept a quick conviction that 
 she would have to muster all her resources to face 
 and rout this foe. 
 
 "You are on my land," she said distinctly and 
 coldly. " I am sorry that I must tell you to leave. 
 I came to notify you. I cannot permit this to go 
 on," waving her hand in the direction of the incom 
 plete floor and the small pile of lumber near by. 
 
 " Unless I am sadly misinformed, this is a quarter 
 section of government land that was not surveyed 
 or filed upon up to three o'clock yesterday, and that 
 has not a sign of a habitation upon it," returned the 
 stranger, quite as firmly and decisively. 
 
 " My house is on the opposite side of the stream." 
 
 The stranger stared at her in unfeigned astonish 
 ment. 
 
 " I came over the ground yesterday with my
 
 12 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 lumber. We unloaded it at the head of the trail. 
 I camped there last night. I can swear there was 
 not a stick of timber other than my own, or a hu 
 man being, within a mile of here at that time." 
 
 " Nevertheless, my house is there. The roof has 
 just been fastened on. You can go and see for your 
 self," retorted the lady triumphantly. 
 
 " Madam, are you sure you are not dreaming, or 
 have n't you lost your bearings ? Houses are not 
 built in a day." 
 
 " Mine is not a board house. It is a patent 
 house," returned the lady, with dignity. 
 
 " A patent I beg pardon ? " 
 
 " A patent house. Made of paper pulp or some 
 thing of the kind, compressed. It comes in sec 
 tions, all ready to set up." 
 
 " I am not sure that such a structure comes within 
 the requirements of the law," remarked the inter 
 loper gravely. Then, remembering his duty as a 
 host, albeit his right to act as such was under chal 
 lenge, he motioned in the direction of the pile of 
 lumber. 
 
 "Please be seated. Let us discuss this matter 
 fairly and dispassionately, Madam Miss " 
 
 "Judith. Miss Judith." 
 
 "Hang it! A very Gorgon of a name. Goes 
 well with her errand and speech ! " was his secret 
 comment, as he bent forward and tried to catch a 
 glimpse of the face the little shaker so effectually 
 concealed. Aloud he said : 
 
 " And my name 's Paul." 
 
 She acknowledged the introduction with a stiff
 
 LAYING DOWN THE LAW 13 
 
 little bow. Mr. Paul deliberated in silence for some 
 moments. .The woman took advantage of the op 
 portunity to look about her. The smouldering 
 embers of a camp-fire, surrounded by a few rude 
 cooking utensils, showed where her rival claimant 
 had prepared his noon meal. A pair of gay Navajo 
 blankets were airing on some bushes, and near at 
 hand a couple of packing cases had been hastily 
 opened, and a portion of their contents, consisting 
 of a miscellaneous assortment of clothing, tools, and 
 various personal belongings, were scattered about 
 on the ground. A larger case, standing a little 
 apart, also had its cover lifted, but its contents were 
 apparently undisturbed, except that spread over the 
 top and hanging down over one side was a piece of 
 black drapery, so dense and heavy that it at once 
 attracted and held the woman's attention. She 
 shivered as she looked at it. 
 
 " What a singular thing to bring to a mountain 
 camp ! " she reflected. " It looks like a funeral 
 pall." 
 
 Her meditations were interrupted by Mr. Paul. 
 
 "At what time, may I ask, did you commence 
 building operations ? " 
 
 " I came up with Mr. Birdsall and his son. They 
 were very prompt. We started from the valley at 
 daybreak let me see at twenty minutes to six 
 this morning." 
 
 " The very hour that I began carrying my lumber 
 down the trail." 
 
 " And he began to set up my house at precisely 
 eight o'clock," continued the lady.
 
 14 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 " The deuce ! " said Mr. Paul, this time expressing 
 himself aloud. " I beg your pardon, but that does 
 complicate matters. I 'm a punctual sort of fellow 
 myself when I have work on hand. It was exactly 
 eight when I hung my watch on that tree," nodding 
 in the direction of a sycamore sapling behind her, 
 " got out my axe and hammer and saw, and began." 
 
 " But I had three of the lines run by a surveyor 
 unofficial, of course, week before last," retali 
 ated Miss Judith, with a little nod that struck Mr. 
 Paul as being extremely saucy and disagreeable. 
 
 " I 'm ahead of you there. I struck the spot when 
 I was traveling through the hills two years ago. The 
 friend who was with me was a civil engineer. He 
 ran all four of the section lines, and I helped him. 
 We even christened this little stream Escondido, or 
 Hidden Creek." 
 
 " If running the lines gives one any legal advan 
 tage, which I very much doubt," retorted the lady, 
 shamelessly abandoning her own attitude of the pre 
 vious moment, " I am sure that must have been out 
 lawed long ago. Anyhow, you have n't a shadow 
 of a squatter's right until your house is up, and mine 
 is ready for occupancy. I shall have Mr. Birdsall 
 take me to the station to-morrow, and I shall take 
 the evening train and go straight to the Land Office 
 in Los Angeles, and ask them to make an official 
 survey of the land, that I may file upon it." 
 
 " And I shall get this shanty in some sort of shape 
 to-morrow night, if I have to work all night, and 
 leave off doors and windows, and roof it with blan 
 kets. Then I know a trail that leads across the
 
 LAYING DOWN THE LAW 15 
 
 range. I have the fleetest pony in the district," 
 pointing to a spirited sorrel grazing near by, whose 
 splendid chest, neat hoofs and stocky legs bore wit 
 ness to his broncho blood. " I shall go directly to the 
 county seat and file my application for a survey." 
 
 " I shall contest it," asserted the woman, with 
 such fire and decision that the rival claimant gave 
 her another curious look. But the ugly shaker kept 
 its own counsel. 
 
 " And waste all your substance in litigation. I 
 warn you that I am an obstinate fellow, and never 
 give up a just cause." 
 
 The idea of this unceremonious scramble to estab 
 lish their rights evidently did not appeal to either of 
 these enterprising settlers. After a long pause, dur 
 ing which the man scrawled cabalistic figures on his 
 lumber, and the lady strung some belated alfilaria 
 blossoms on a blade of grass, he broke the silence. 
 
 " What does your family consist of, Miss Judith ? 
 I infer that you are its head." 
 
 " There is no one but myself," replied the lady, in 
 a low tone. 
 
 " Then listen to me, Miss Judith. I really I 
 very much dislike to enter a contest with a lady. 
 Could n't we settle on some amicable basis ? Let 
 me offer a suggestion. Three miles below here, in 
 the heart of the fertile valley, there is a strip of land 
 forty feet wide and half a mile long, about three 
 acres in all, which by some odd blunder was omit 
 ted from the original survey. My friend, the sur 
 veyor, told me about it. It runs along the edge of. 
 one of the most valuable ranches in the valley, and
 
 16 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 the owner would have entered it long ago, but he is 
 already the proprietor of a tract that bars his right 
 to acquire government land in this State, and he has 
 conscientious scruples against making a dummy en 
 try. As a matter of fact, no one has any title to it, 
 and you could homestead it to-morrow. Small as the 
 strip is, it is in a region where high values rule, and 
 is already worth ten times as much as this will be in 
 our lifetime. One of these days the settlement about 
 it will become a village, and you will be the lucky 
 possessor of town lots. Moreover, it is excuse me 
 for saying so in a much more desirable and suit 
 able neighborhood for a lady to live. Your present 
 locatiort is, if you will permit me to say so, a very 
 lonely and isolated one for a lady." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Paul. I am afraid of nothing." 
 
 " And it is very unprotected." 
 
 " But I have a most efficient protector." 
 
 " The land I have been telling you about is in a 
 pleasant neighborhood," persisted the man, his voice 
 betraying his vexation, " convenient to town and 
 market, and with a church close by." 
 
 " Why don't you take it yourself ? " 
 
 "I oh, I prefer the hills." 
 
 " So do I." 
 
 The young man drew out his pocketknife and 
 carved his pencil in silent wrath. He had an un 
 comfortable conviction that the face in the shaker 
 was laughing at him. But his resources were by no 
 means exhausted. 
 
 " Then let me tell you of another place. Five 
 miles from here, but also in the hills, there is a
 
 LAYING DOWN THE LAW 17 
 
 quarter section of surveyed land, better than this, of 
 which I also learned through my friend the sur 
 veyor. It was entered by an old man nearly seven 
 years ago. He died after living there three or four 
 years, and after awhile his children abandoned the 
 claim without proving up. In six weeks the claim 
 will have lapsed, and be open to entry without con 
 test. For the present, according to custom, it stands 
 in his name on the government maps. Only a few 
 are aware of the state of the title, or it would have 
 been snapped up long ago. It is directly on a good 
 traveled road, has a few orchard trees well started, 
 some twenty acres are cleared, and there is a valu 
 able water right. It is really a rare chance." 
 
 " You are perfectly free to take advantage of it," 
 replied the lady coldly. 
 
 " But I prefer this." 
 
 " So do I." 
 
 " The deuce ! " 
 
 This time the lady laughed aloud a clear, musi 
 cal laugh that blended with the ripple of the brook 
 below. He was so plainly exasperated that she 
 instantly grew grave again. 
 
 " Then there is nothing to do but to await the 
 survey. For the present we may as well declare a 
 truce, I suppose," he said with resignation. 
 
 " I suppose so," returned Miss Judith reluctantly. 
 " Of course I have the prior claim. But one of us 
 may die, or decide to go away. Of course I shall 
 not go away," she added quickly, evidently fearing 
 that her antagonist might imagine she was making 
 some concession.
 
 18 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 " But you may die," he suggested. 
 
 " That is inhuman ! " 
 
 This accusation discomfited the enemy. He has 
 tened to defend himself. " But it was your own 
 suggestion. What am I to infer, then ? That the 
 mortality may be on my side ? " 
 
 " You need infer nothing ; I was only generalizing. 
 It is often extremely indelicate to particularize." 
 
 For one swift instant the shaker was lifted, and a 
 pair of flashing gray eyes blazed at him. The next 
 instant the slight figure had taken an unceremonious 
 leave. 
 
 He took up a handful of nails and eyed them re 
 flectively, then seized his hammer and addressed 
 himself to work. For a few moments the stroke of 
 his hammer kept time with her fleeing footsteps ; 
 but the sorrel horse lifted his head and whinnied as 
 she plunged down into the thick underbrush. 
 
 His master had evidently lost his zest for his task, 
 for, after laying a single strip of flooring, he sat 
 down upon it and gravely considered the singular 
 complications in which he found himself involved. 
 
 " It might be worse," he decided. " If she were 
 an old woman, infirm or feeble, I would have to lay 
 down my arms and surrender without quarter. Or 
 if she were a young matron with a houseful of chil 
 dren, she might have routed me. Happily the case 
 is altogether different. I '11 venture she 's a peppery 
 little schoolmarm of uncertain age, who has for 
 some reason temporarily abandoned her profession 
 to seek a sentimental retreat amid mountain soli 
 tudes uncontaminated by the tread of man. Or
 
 LAYING DOWN THE LAW 19 
 
 f 
 
 she 's a new woman, adopting misanthropy as a novel 
 and interesting fad. In either case she '11 soon get 
 disenchanted, or be ready to listen to a reasonable 
 proposition for a compromise. ' Afraid of nothing ! ' 
 Hang her independence ! " 
 
 His meditations were disturbed by an appalling 
 sound, the cry of a woman in mortal peril. 
 
 With the instinct of a mountaineer, he caught up 
 his rifle, which was leaning against the bole of a 
 live-oak, and, guided by this piercing cry, ran swiftly 
 down the path to the brook, leaped the shallow 
 stream, and sprang up the steep trail leading to the 
 mesa above. The tall trees on either side inter 
 locked their branches overhead, and the dense, leafy 
 canopy through which only an occasional ray of sun 
 light found its way, produced a perpetual twilight. 
 
 Near the head of the trail, he saw the slight figure 
 of his visitor. Half fainting with terror, not daring 
 either to advance or retreat, she was clinging to the 
 bough of a friendly oak, her eyes fixed upon an ob 
 ject further along the path. 
 
 Mr. Paul gained her side, and, to his horror, saw 
 in the dim light the huge, tawny shape of a Califor 
 nia lion, its sinewy form poised uncertainly, as if it 
 were doubtful whether to spring upon its prey or to 
 beat a cowardly retreat, its great head outstretched 
 and dully regarding the lady, the long tail vigorously 
 lashing the weeds that lined the trail. 
 
 Quickly and stealthily the man raised his rifle to 
 his shoulder and was bringing his eye to bear upon 
 the sights, when a small hand gripped his arm and a 
 soft voice implored him,
 
 20 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 " Don't kill him ! Oh, please don't kill him ! " 
 
 So extraordinary and unexpected was this request 
 that Mr. Paul committed a most unsportsmanlike 
 act. With the ferocious beast but a couple of rods 
 away, and liable to spring the next instant, he paused 
 with his finger on the trigger, and took his eye from 
 the sights to turn it upon his rival claimant. 
 
 " I beg you not to kill him. Could n't you try 
 him with a piece of meat ? " 
 
 Several queer thoughts pursued each other through 
 the young man's brain at this remarkable proposal 
 to bait a mountain lion. He was convinced that 
 either he or the lady had gone daft. On the whole, 
 he was inclined to accredit this unhappy infirmity to 
 himself, for the rapidity with which he was obliged 
 to revise his previous conceptions of her was in itself 
 bewildering. The shaker had fallen off, and in her 
 terror Miss Judith had forgotten that he was her 
 enemy, forgotten her own threats and pledges of 
 heroic resistance to his pretensions, and was clinging 
 to his arm with her pleading face uplifted. 
 
 Instead of the vinegary spinster of withered as 
 pect and uncertain years whom he had imagined 
 hidden away beneath the disfiguring bonnet, he saw 
 a woman, young and beautiful. The sunlight had 
 tangled itself in the brown hair, banded about the 
 small head like a coronet and escaping in soft ten 
 drils over her white forehead. Her mouth was wist 
 ful as a child's, her skin the texture of the rose leaf, 
 and the large beseeching eyes that she lifted to him 
 were gentle and moist as spring violets.
 
 CHAPTER in 
 
 A FKIEND IN NEED 
 
 THE young man's common sense asserted itself 
 and recalled him to a realization of their danger. 
 
 "My dear child," he cried, taking an odd de 
 light in this paternal form of address. " A moun 
 tain lion is not a beast to be trifled with. Let me 
 fire." 
 
 "A mountain lion! Oh, dear! A mountain 
 lion ? He 's mine ! " 
 
 The girl burst into a little irrepressible laugh. 
 
 Never was a sportsman in such an embarrassing 
 position. Mr. Paul lowered his weapon in despera 
 tion, still keeping a vigilant eye on the animal, 
 which lashed its long tail more vigorously than 
 ever. 
 
 " Miss Judith, will you be kind enough to tell me 
 if you 're the keeper of a menagerie ? " 
 
 " It is my dog. My big mastiff, Hercules. War 
 ranted dangerous and guaranteed to defend me 
 against all intruders. But I'm horribly afraid of 
 him. Mr. Birdsall tied him up for me. He has 
 somehow broken loose." 
 
 It was Mr. Paul's turn to laugh, and the hills re 
 echoed his boisterous merriment, while the mastiff 
 wagged his tail with renewed energy. 
 
 " Don't touch him ! He '11 bite. The man who
 
 22 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 sold him to me in San Francisco assured me he had 
 nearly killed several men." 
 
 But the young man already had his hand on the 
 dog's head, and the mastiff, instead of resenting this 
 familiarity, seemed gratified, and wag rubbing against 
 his knee and smelling of his pockets. 
 
 " I don't see how you dare," said the girl, aghast 
 at this foolhardiness. " I know I shall never dare 
 touch him." 
 
 " Oh, dogs always like me. And you 're a good 
 fellow, are n't you, Hercules ? I believe he 's not at 
 all bloodthirsty, but honestly hungry, Miss Judith. 
 I 'm afraid you don't feed your mountain lions 
 well." 
 
 He felt in his pocket and brought forth a small 
 sandwich, wrapped in a paper bag. The dog de 
 voured this greedily, after which Mr. Paul inserted 
 his hand beneath the animal's leather collar and 
 led him up the trail. The girl followed, in a brown 
 study. 
 
 "So this is the house?" 
 
 She nodded, but did not venture to invite his 
 opinion, as he critically regarded the exterior. At 
 tached to a stout staple in a tree beside the cabin, 
 was a bright steel chain. The young man examined 
 it and held up a broken snap on the end. 
 
 " You can't hold this great fellow with any such 
 flimsy fastening. A rope is the proper thing for 
 him. A good, strong rope, something as near a 
 cable as you can find. Ah, here is a piece that will 
 do for the present." 
 
 From amid the rubbish, neatly tucked away in a
 
 A FRIEND IN NEED 23 
 
 packing case, he drew a short piece of half-inch 
 inanila and secured one end to the animal's collar, 
 and the other to the staple in the tree. 
 
 " I think this will answer," he said, examining 
 the knot, then letting the rope fall from his hand. 
 " When you want to let him go, you need only to 
 untie the rope from his collar and leave it hanging 
 here." 
 
 " But I shall never dare untie him," replied the 
 girl despondently. 
 
 " Then what possible protection can the animal 
 be? Any ill-disposed person could easily storm 
 your castle from the other side. Indeed, it would n't 
 take much of an athlete to pick it up and carry it 
 off." 
 
 " I am not half as much afraid of ill-disposed per 
 sons as I am of my dog," confessed the girl reluc 
 tantly. 
 
 " Now, I '11 tell you what I '11 do," proposed the 
 young man. " Of course it 's perfectly absurd for 
 you to have this dog chained up here all the time, 
 so that he cannot be of the least use to you. If you 
 like, I'll come up here every night and let him 
 loose, and then every morning, as soon as I get up, 
 I '11 come around and tie him up again. In that 
 way you can feel perfectly easy at night, for I really 
 think the animal is capable of taking care of any 
 stray traveler. And in the daytime you will be 
 able to go about without the slightest fear of the 
 dog." 
 
 The girl made a faint protest that this would be 
 altogether too much trouble for Mr. Paul ; that she
 
 24 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 could not think of taxing him in this way ; but her 
 neighbor, who seemed to be a very amiable young 
 fellow when clashing land titles were not in ques 
 tion, assured her that he would not mind it in the 
 least ; that he had always been in the habit of tak 
 ing a walk night and morning, and that it would be 
 no hardship whatever to direct his steps in this 
 direction. So the strange compact was sealed, and 
 Mr. Paul took his departure, to resume operations 
 upon the domicile which was to support his adverse 
 claim when the land should be surveyed and placed 
 upon the market.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A WAKKANT THAT WAS NOT SWORN 
 
 To one who has always lived in a crowded com 
 munity, where all nature has been mutilated by the 
 hand of man, there is a rare delight in awakening, 
 day after day, to the grace, tranquillity, and beauty 
 of nature fresh from the hand of its Creator. Miss 
 Judith, who had all her life breathed the murky air 
 of the city, whose small feet had ever trodden damp 
 or dusty pavements, and whose eyes had been 
 bounded by walls of brick or stone, with only an 
 occasional escape to a sea-beach swarming with peo 
 ple, or a great artificial park laid out by rod and 
 rule, and with forbidding signs on every grass-plot 
 and flower border, had now entered upon a charmed 
 existence. 
 
 She was sitting out under her oaks, engaged in 
 some light needlework, the next morning, enjoying 
 the bright sunshine and the twitter of birds, uncon 
 sciously absorbing the beautiful picture spread out 
 below her, when the clatter of hoofs and rattle of 
 wheels resounded on the road below, and the good- 
 natured ranchman who had aided in placing her 
 household Lares and Penates in position appeared 
 in a light cart. He looked relieved upon seeing her 
 alive and whole, but addressed her with a very 
 apologetic air.
 
 26 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 " I got into hot water, I can tell you, Miss Judith, 
 going off an' leaving you the way I did yesterday," 
 he began, mopping his forehead with a red handker 
 chief. "Mis' Birdsall, she just wouldn't let me 
 hear the last of it. Talked all the rest the day an' 
 all night about it. Said the idee of leaving you up 
 here all alone, with a lot o' strange men trying to 
 jump the land, for all I knew ! Set it all down to 
 me an' Orlando being men-folks, an' slaves to our 
 stummicks. Said we thought more of our mutton 
 an' pertaters than we did of human life. She 's a 
 warm-hearted woman, Mis' Birdsall is, a pow'ful 
 warm-hearted woman, an' she let me have it hot an' 
 heavy. I '11 own I was a mite oneasy 'bout yeh, an' 
 I thought I 'd come up an' see how you got along 
 with that greaser crowd. Mis' Birdsall 'lowed likely 
 as not I 'd find yeh murdered in your bed. Did 
 they cut up rough, now ? " 
 
 " There was only one," quoth Miss Judith, busy 
 ing herself with the drapery she was hemming, while 
 a faint flush rose to her cheek. 
 
 " I swan ! That ain't like the race. They gen'- 
 ally go in swarms." 
 
 " I think he 's not a not the class of men you 
 supposed, Mr. Birdsall," explained Miss Judith de 
 murely. " In fact, he talks very fair English. He 
 seems to be an American." 
 
 " Tarnation ! They 're the wrist kind ! " exclaimed 
 the old man, forgetting that he was condemning his 
 own race and kith and kin. " A greaser makes a 
 big to-do, an' you 'd think he 'd make war on you 
 an' all your relations ; but you can gen'ally handle
 
 A WARRANT THAT WAS NOT SWORN 27 
 
 him some fashion, if you talk smooth an' don't seem 
 to mind his bluster. A Yurrupean can most always 
 be bought off, if wust comes to wust. But you get 
 an American or an Englishman in a snarl over a 
 land title, an' they '11 law an' law till they get gray- 
 headed. How 'd he talk ? Anyways reasonable, 
 now?" 
 
 " No. He was very unreasonable," declared Miss 
 Judith, with decision. " He said he was on the land 
 two years ago, and prefers it to any other place he 
 has ever seen, when he knows there are much better 
 tracts in this very country, open to entry. Oh, he is 
 certainly the most unreasonable person I ever saw." 
 
 " People don't gen'ally reason much when prop'ty 
 rights is concerned," sagely observed the old man. 
 
 "And hard-hearted! He even intimated it was 
 possible I might die before the land was surveyed, 
 and so remove all obstacles from his path," she said 
 bitterly. 
 
 " The villain ! " exclaimed the old man, openly 
 alarmed. " Why, child, your life ain't safe a mo 
 ment with a man round that talks that-a-way. He 
 he might be up to anything, pisen your water ! 
 run off your stock ! " 
 
 " Oh, I guess not," said the girl. " You see, we 
 have the very same water ; and as for stock, I 
 have n't any, except my hen and her chickens," 
 nodding in the direction of a fussy little mother-hen 
 who was diligently scratching up the sod before the 
 cabin, in a commendable effort to find sustenance 
 for her fluffy brood, although corn and wheat were 
 scattered all around her.
 
 28 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 " Well, you come right hum with me, anyhow," 
 insisted the old man. " Mis' Birdsall, she '11 make 
 you stay there till this man 's out of the way. I '11 
 swear out a warrant agin him this very afternoon." 
 
 " I really am not a particle afraid of him," said 
 the girl. 
 
 " Ain't you, now ? " asked the old man, admir 
 ingly. " I says to Mis' Birdsall last night, when she 
 was carryin'-on so 'bout yeh, I says, ' Now you look 
 heah, Mis' Birdsall, Miss Judith 's a mite of a cree- 
 tur, but I '11 guarantee she 's a young woman that 
 can take care of herself.' But when it comes to actu 
 ally talking 'bout yeh a-dying off I nevah reck 
 oned on that. The cold-blooded ruffyan ! I '11 swear 
 out a warrant agin him ! " 
 
 " Oh, no, I would n't, if I were you," protested 
 the young lady. " He really does n't look exactly 
 murderous. In fact, I believe I am almost sure 
 I was the first one to suggest that one of us might 
 die or go away, and so settle the case." 
 
 " Well, that ain't so bad, for a fact ! " The old 
 man was appeased, but there was a twinkle in his 
 eye. " Maybe he 's the one that needs to keep a 
 sharp lookout, after all." 
 
 " Mr. Birdsall ! " The small person rebuked him 
 with great dignity. 
 
 " Oh, no offense, no offense, Miss Judith. I 'm 
 not sayin' that you 'd pisen his water or run off his 
 stock, but a woman can plague the very life out of 
 a man, if she 's a mind to, without doing anything 
 to transgress the law, or so much as fracture the 
 least little rule of eticat."
 
 A WARRANT THAT WAS NOT SWORN 29 
 
 This time there was a look of humorous under 
 standing in the eyes of both, as the girl looked up 
 for one brief instant. 
 
 That night the old man conveyed to his wife the 
 impression he received in that instant, saying, 
 " Don't you worry any more about Miss Judith. 
 Save your pity for that forlorn young man that 's 
 come up here a stranger. If she don't make it hot 
 for him before that entry question 's settled, I don't 
 know when the very mischief 's in a woman's eye ; 
 an' bein' married this thirty year I ought to " 
 But here a stern " You, Samuel ! " that he had 
 learned to understand and respect during his quarter 
 century and more of married life, cut short his com 
 ments. 
 
 " Now, 'bout that bringing of the water down that 
 we was talking of yesterday," resumed the old man, 
 after having fully absorbed and assimilated this ex 
 pressive glance of the lady's ; " I 'd like to do it for 
 yeh, best kind, but if I 'm ever to summer-fallow 
 that east field of mine, now 's the time. An' that 
 boy Orlando 's plumb crazy to do it for yeh. I don't 
 know what 's got into the boy. He warn't so stuck 
 on any job of work before, but he seems to set his 
 heart on doin' this. Do you want to sluice or pipe 
 it?" 
 
 " I 'm afraid I don't know what a sluice is," 
 admitted the young lady. 
 
 " Only some boards tight-jinted, to carry the 
 water down. They 're cheaper an' easier to lay 
 than pipe, an' they don't clog or require a dam." 
 
 " Then I '11 have the sluice," said Miss Judith.
 
 30 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 " I '11 have the boards j'inted together at the mill, 
 an' Orlando can bring them up with the big team. 
 It 's a plain, straight-ahead job. Only finding 
 a rest for the sluice, an' gettin' your level by the 
 water flowing along it. Are you a mind to trust 
 him with it ? " 
 
 " Why, certainly," replied the young woman in 
 differently. " It does n't matter in the least who 
 does the work. All I want is the water." 
 
 Miss Judith spoke with little knowledge. It would 
 matter very much who did this particular job, as she 
 was some day to discover. 
 
 " The main thing is to get a good fall. He 'd 
 better go a thousand feet back, to make sure. He '11 
 have to dig an' pick away the rock a little to get 
 round a couple o' pints above here, but I reckon 
 he '11 make out. It 's all down-grade. No siphon 
 ing. By the way, what you goin' to do for milk up 
 here ? " 
 
 " I really had n't thought. Of course, there 's 
 condensed milk. I opened a can this morning for 
 my coffee ; but I can't say I relish it." 
 
 " Good, fresh milk, an' plenty of it, is what you 
 want to bring the roses to them bleached city cheeks," 
 said the ranchman. " It 's too far away to go or 
 send, for the sake of a quart or two a day. You 've 
 got plenty of feed up here. Why don't you keep a 
 cow?"
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 MISS JUDITH'S INVESTMENT 
 
 " I DON'T know the least thing about one. I 
 have n't the faintest idea how to milk." 
 
 The old man laughed indulgently. " A baby can 
 learn. Orlando '11 teach you. Then you '11 have 
 plenty good, fresh milk, an' butter. I ain't got any 
 stock to spare, but what put it into my head, my 
 neighbor Montrose, he spoke to me about it as I 
 was passing his place this morning." 
 
 " And what did he say?" eagerly inquired Miss 
 Judith. The more she thought of it, the idea of 
 keeping .a cow appealed to her. Hanging on her 
 wall was an engraving of which she was very fond, 
 and which represented a group of cattle and a pretty 
 young milkmaid. It would be delightful to have 
 one of the lovely, deer-like creatures always grazing 
 under her oaks. 
 
 " He ast me," said Birdsall, " if the young woman 
 as had taken up this claim in the hills did n't want 
 a cow ? Said he had a nice two-year-old heifer he 
 wanted to sell, one he had raised himself. I pro 
 mised him I 'd speak to you." 
 
 " I wish you 'd ask him the price, and send word 
 by Orlando." 
 
 " Now, see here, Miss Judith. 'T ain't my place 
 to advise, an' I ain't the man to run down my neigh-
 
 32 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 bors. But don't you buy no cow unless you exam 
 ine her yourself, an' find out all her p'ints. Don't 
 you miss one thing. You ask when she was fresh, 
 an' how much milk she gives, an' about the cream, 
 an' whether she '11 stand good to be milked, an' 
 milks easy, an' if she kicks the pail, an' what stock 
 she comes of, an' if she 's sound an' healthy. Don't 
 you overlook a single p'int. You 're bound to get 
 taken in some way. Everybody mostly is that buys 
 a cow. Mind, I ain't making no reflection on Ed 
 Montrose, but the man ain't living who 's got a cow 
 to sell, an' '11 represent the facts just as they is, 
 without a mite of coloring. I tell you, a minister of 
 the gospel can't be trusted to tell the truth about a 
 cow." 
 
 " Then I '11 go down and see her." 
 
 " That 's sensible. You take a look at her your 
 self, an' see what you think of her. I 'd take you 
 down in my buggy, but I can't bring you back to 
 day. It 'd be a clean two-mile walk up here again." 
 
 "Why, I'll be glad to go, Mr. Birdsall. The 
 walk will only be a bit of pleasant exercise. I '11 
 be ready in five minutes." 
 
 The old man put it down to Miss Judith's credit 
 that she was ready, properly cloaked and hatted, 
 within the promised time. Indeed, she looked so 
 very dainty and pretty in her stylish check walking- 
 suit and broad-brimmed chip hat and feather, that 
 he secretly wished he had put on his Sunday suit 
 that morning, and endeavored to spruce up surrep 
 titiously by drawing a pocket-comb through his 
 beard, under pretense of stroking it.
 
 MISS JUDITH'S INVESTMENT 33 
 
 The road led through pleasant windings and easy 
 descents to the broad county road below. The 
 Montrose house was a large, square structure, dis 
 creetly retired from the road behind a tall evergreen 
 hedge, trimmed into rigid sugar cones. Mr. Mon 
 trose, a dapper little middle-class Englishman, in 
 corduroy knee-breeches and shooting-coat, came up 
 from the stable as he saw them enter the gate. The 
 old man assisted the lady to alight, spoke the neces 
 sary words of introduction, and assuring Miss Judith 
 that "Mis' Birdsall was coming up to see her as 
 soon as she was settled," excused himself and drove 
 away. He evidently did not intend to have any 
 part in the proposed cattle deal. 
 
 " I understand you have a cow to sell, Mr. Mon 
 trose," said Miss Judith. 
 
 " I believe I did mention to Mr. Bihdsall that I 
 had a nice little heifeh I might dispose of." 
 
 Mr. Montrose spoke very deliberately, in a soft, 
 low voice, and with a slight drawl. Indeed, his 
 voice was so very soft and low at times that Miss 
 Judith had difficulty in understanding him. 
 
 " Can I see the heifer ? " she asked. 
 
 " Cehtainly. If you '11 kindly wait 'eah one mo 
 ment, I '11 have one of my men bwing 'er up." 
 
 The lady waited some time, declining the invita-, 
 tion tendered by Mrs. Montrose, who was very large 
 and stout, to take a seat in the house. But she ac 
 cepted from that lady's hands a glass of sweet, 
 creamy milk, cool and refreshing after her dusty 
 ride. 
 
 At length Mr. Montrose returned, flushed with 
 exertion, and leading the heifer himself.
 
 34 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Miss Judith scrutinized the animal sharply, let 
 ting no detail escape her. It was bright red in color, 
 with white markings on either side of its face, which 
 gave it a fantastic expression. It looked plump and 
 well fed, and had a somewhat overgrown look. 
 " How much milk does she give ? " 
 " I would n't be positive," returned the gentle 
 man ; " but I fancy she gives from six to eight 
 quahts a day. Mrs. Montrose, have you eveh mea 
 sured Sawah Ann's milk ? " 
 
 " No, Ed," replied Mrs. Montrose. " It 's always 
 brought in with Kitty's, and they 're poured in the 
 pans together. But she gives enough for the lady's 
 use. She's a young thing, you see, Miss Judith, 
 and not come to her full milking yet." 
 
 " Is she pure Jersey ? " Miss Judith persevered, 
 while Mrs. Montrose returned to her household 
 cares. 
 
 The Englishman contemptuously snipped off the 
 heads of a row of weeds with a little stick he carried. 
 
 " My deah madam ! No Jehsey for me ! She 's 
 a cross between Devonshiah and Du'am. The vewy 
 finest stwain in the country. Jehsey can't compah 
 with it." 
 
 " Is she an easy milker ? " 
 
 " Perfectly easy, madam." 
 
 " And she 's gentle ? " 
 
 " Gentle as a dog, Miss Judith. I always make 
 it a point to bring up my stock by hand. It makes 
 them almost 'uman. They know me better than 
 their own mothers." 
 
 " She looks kind," said the girl, putting out her
 
 MISS JUDITH'S INVESTMENT 35 
 
 hand in response to what seemed to her a beseeching 
 look in the heifer's eye, but quickly withdrawing it 
 as a misgiving seized her. 
 
 " Does she bite ? " 
 
 " Nevah, madam ! " Mr. Montrose had his at 
 tention distracted at this moment by a noise in his 
 stable-yard, and turned his head to investigate it. 
 When he faced Miss Judith again, he was sober as 
 a judge. 
 
 " Madam, I assuah you, I would n't keep a cow 
 on my place that would bite. There is n't one in 
 my 'erd that I would n't guahantee not to bite." 
 
 This sounded very honest and promising. The 
 young lady stroked the heifer's nose. The animal 
 licked her hand, and she conceived an affection for 
 it on the spot. She tried to recall the remainder of 
 Mr. Birdsall's cautions. 
 
 " She has nice, clean, long limbs," she remarked. 
 " She looks as if she could run fast." 
 
 "Yes, ma'am. She comes of the best racing- 
 stock in the country." 
 
 " And her back has such pretty lines." 
 
 " People who know what 's what in cattle," said 
 Mr. Montrose, dropping his voice to a mysterious 
 whisper, " always look for that nice arched back, 
 when they 're after a fine milch cow." 
 
 This settled it for Miss Judith. She had not 
 only been reassured on all the points the old ranch 
 man had cautioned her about, but she had discov 
 ered other admirable features which he had not so 
 much as named. There was nothing to do but to 
 ask the price. The sum the Englishman named
 
 36 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 seemed even to her inexperience somewhat ex 
 cessive. 
 
 " If you '11 just figgah it up this way," said the 
 Englishman, softly, " I don't think you '11 consideh 
 it at all exhorbitant. Fihst, you get you' milk, say 
 seven quahts a day, two hundred and ten quahts a 
 month. At eight cents a quaht that 's sixteen dol- 
 lahs and eighty cents. Then you' butteh, say two 
 rolls a week ; choice table butteh 's six bits a roll. 
 That 's six dollahs. Twenty-two dollahs and eighty 
 cents a month. Neahly three hundred dollahs a 
 year. Miss Judith, if I asked you a hundwed dol 
 lahs for that heif eh, you 'd still be making more 
 than two hundwed peh cent, a year on your invest 
 ment after deducting the cost of foddeh." 
 
 This was such a very moderate and rational way 
 of looking at the matter that the lady felt quite 
 ashamed of having for one instant caviled at the 
 price of so great a treasure. She paid the price on 
 the spot, with a mild apology, and arranged to have 
 Orlando bring the heifer when he should come up 
 to work on the sluice the following week.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 UNDER SIEGE 
 
 ONE evening, a few days later, Miss Judith, sit 
 ting on the threshold of her cottage, looked away 
 from the book she was reading to see the sun set 
 ting in a glory of pellucid rose and crimson, trans 
 figuring the distant valley, robing the mountains in 
 splendor, and reflecting its dazzling light in the 
 western sea. Wrapped in her thoughts, she did not 
 at first observe that the scene had another specta 
 tor. Under a tree some rods distant a man stood, 
 apparently absorbing the picture. 
 
 When he saw that he was observed, he came 
 directly to her. 
 
 "You must admit that I have chosen the best 
 location for my dwelling," she said. "You have 
 not the sunshine, the freedom, the broad and beauti 
 ful view of the uplands." 
 
 " I did not come here for views," said Mr. Paul, 
 with sarcastic emphasis. " I came here for a wholly 
 different purpose than sitting down and enjoying 
 the landscape." 
 
 Miss Judith put the young man down in her men 
 tal inventory as wholly lacking in sentiment and 
 ideality. 
 
 " And that purpose is ? " 
 
 " Farming, naturally. I have the seclusion of the
 
 38 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 canon, the music of the stream. Besides, the land 
 in there is infinitely superior to this. You could n't 
 raise onions and cabbages here to save your life." 
 
 " Oh ! Onions and cabbages ! " returned the girl 
 scornfully. 
 
 "Cabbages and onions are more profitable than 
 charming views, and oak-trees, and wild flowers. 
 You are plainly no farmer, Miss Judith." 
 
 She resented this imputation with asperity. 
 
 "There are farmers, and farmers. One can al 
 ways choose. I am going to raise strawberries, and 
 raspberries, and blackberries." 
 
 The young man groaned in spirit. His theory 
 that the young woman's invasion of the primeval 
 hills was due to some passing whim fell to the 
 ground. 
 
 " You '11 break your back over the one, and 
 scratch your hands to pieces with the other," he re 
 torted. "And as for blackberries, only stroll up 
 the banks of my stream in early June, and I '11 
 show you wild berries that in flavor will discount 
 any cultivated fruit ever offered in the market. My 
 friend the surveyor and I nearly lived on them when 
 we were up here two years ago." 
 
 " Your stream ! " she repeated, with a little satiri 
 cal emphasis upon the possessive pronoun. " It is 
 upon your stream that I shall rely to irrigate my 
 berries. A man is coming to pipe the water down 
 next week." 
 
 " Oh, as to that, there is abundance of water for 
 both our uses," he returned indifferently. " Can I 
 be of any further assistance to you this evening, 
 Miss Judith ? " he added pleasantly.
 
 UNDER SIEGE 39 
 
 " Thank you. I think not. But I am forgetting 
 my province as hostess, sir. Won't you come into 
 my house ? " 
 
 " I don't know about compromising my rights by 
 entering the abode of mine enemy," he said whim 
 sically, but he obediently followed as she led the 
 way into the cottage. 
 
 It was impossible not to marvel over the magical 
 little home that a woman's ingenuity and taste had 
 created in one short day. There were but two 
 rooms, the sleeping apartment being divided from 
 the living-room by dull rose curtains, toning with 
 the pale terra-cotta of the walls. Each side of the 
 larger apartment was fitted with a square, project 
 ing window. Grayish-blue denim curtains, figured 
 with white dragons, were looped back above these, 
 and the broad window-seats were converted into 
 couches, with Japanese rugs and a profusion of pil 
 lows. A little bookcase, with faded rose curtains, 
 stood beside one of these alcoves; a couple of 
 easy-chairs and a rattan rocker were conveniently 
 distributed, and a tiny drop-leaf table of polished 
 mahogany stood near a small antique dresser, where 
 a few pieces of dainty china were ranged behind 
 glass doors. In one corner of the room a flowered 
 screen stood guard. 
 
 " My kitchen ! " explained Miss Judith, swinging 
 the screen about and disclosing a trim little gasoline 
 range and kitchen table and cupboard, while a small 
 square door in the wall gave access to a wire safe 
 attached to the wall outside. 
 
 "It is all very pretty, very comfortable, very
 
 40 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 tasteful," commented the visitor. " It has but one 
 drawback." 
 
 " And that is ? " 
 
 " It is not a house at all. It is a toy. Only see 
 how it shakes when I walk across the floor." 
 
 He took a few heavy steps, and the light structure 
 rocked at each movement, to the owner's manifest 
 trepidation. 
 
 " Oh, don't ! Please don't. It is n't necessary 
 to step so hard ! " she pleaded. 
 
 "When I get my house built, Miss Judith, you 
 can step as hard as you please on the floor. I pre 
 dict that this will go over in the first high wind," 
 he grimly added. 
 
 " In this windless climate ? " 
 
 " It is not precisely in a cyclone belt. But wait 
 until some night when the trades contrive to slip in 
 between yonder mesa and the mountain range, and 
 come sweeping down the coast valley. Perhaps you 
 may be moved across the gulch, seeking a location 
 near mine, without any effort of your own." 
 
 Again Miss Judith mentally accredited Mr. Paul 
 with a gift for saying very disagreeable things. 
 
 Aloud she remarked : 
 
 " I perceive you are an optimist." 
 
 Mr. Paul disclaimed this caustic little compli 
 ment. 
 
 " No. Only a philosopher, after a lame and halt 
 ing fashion. It is always well to face the inevitable, 
 and to prepare for emergencies. When I go on a 
 journey, I take an accident insurance ticket. Under 
 such circumstances as these I would counsel you "
 
 UNDER SIEGE 41 
 
 He broke off, lifting his eyes to inspect the roof of 
 the slight structure, and evidently taking the mea 
 sure of its resistance. 
 
 " You would advise me What ? I am wait- 
 ing." 
 
 " As we cannot tell exactly when the calamity will 
 come, it would be better to take out a life policy. 
 The premiums are more reasonable." 
 
 " I can dig a hole in the ground and retire into 
 my cave when the wind begins to blow, like the resi 
 dents of the Western prairies." 
 
 " But what will you live in when you come out ? " 
 
 " A mere shelter is easy to devise. Wiser than I 
 have lived in a tub ! " 
 
 Mr. Paul held out his hand, smiling. 
 
 " Good-night," he said. 
 
 There was a hint of hesitation in the girl's man 
 ner. Then a small hand fluttered into his waiting 
 palm, the shy eyes were upraised to his with an im 
 pulse of friendliness, and the voice that echoed his 
 farewell took on a tone of neighborly kindliness. 
 
 Before she retired to her couch that night, Miss 
 Judith tried the experiment of crossing the floor of 
 her dwelling with a heavy stride, as Mr. Paul had 
 done. She even stamped on the floor ; but the little 
 cottage stood as firmly as a rock. Satisfied with this 
 crucial test, she retired to rest, wondering why Mr. 
 Paul would persist in making such needless and 
 absurd predictions. 
 
 Notwithstanding the courteous attitude which 
 they assumed toward each other, each of these 
 young people was firm in the resolve to defeat the
 
 42 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 purpose of the rival claimant. As the man slowly 
 walked home that night, he pondered the situation. 
 
 " Of course, it 's perfectly absurd for a woman to 
 undertake to be a farmer," he reflected, " and it 's 
 really nothing but an act of kindness to help her out 
 of her mistake as soon as possible. Amateur farm 
 ing is a disease, and it has to run its course. No 
 amount of well-meant advice will ever check it. 
 The rational mode of treatment is on the homeo 
 pathic plan. I '11 take her up an armful of those 
 pretty illustrated catalogues the Eastern seed-houses 
 are perpetually sending out. And I '11 see if I 
 can't find some old numbers of a Poultry Journal 
 and the Live-Stock Breeder. It 's better for her to 
 have the whole thing at once. When a man or 
 woman takes it by degrees, tries vegetables this year 
 and fodder plants the next, and berries and flowers 
 and orchard trees, and rare plants from the Ori 
 ent, one after another, the malady keeps up, and 
 sometimes strikes in in a chronic form, and lasts for 
 a lifetime. If I don't mistake this Miss Judith's 
 temperament, she 's the type that will take the whole 
 thing at once, in a healthful form, and be exempt 
 from it forever afterwards." 
 
 Miss Judith's reflections were none the less vigor 
 ous and to the point ; and, although her plan of ac 
 tion might not have been quite so well systematized 
 as Mr. Paul's, it was no less clear in her own mind. 
 
 Her dreams were troubled that night. She thought 
 that she was out at sea in a boat, and that a storm 
 burst upon her. The waves dashed mountain high, 
 and her frail craft tossed helplessly about under full
 
 UNDER SIEGE 43 
 
 canvas. Other boats passed by, but they would not 
 heed her pleading cries. On the deck of one staunch 
 little sloop she discerned Mr. Paul standing, and she 
 cried out to him to lay by ; but he only smiled mock 
 ingly, and lowered a net over the side of his boat, 
 and held it in his hands, and she understood that 
 when the wind and waves should have done their 
 work, he meant to recover her body. After a long 
 delay, her recreant crew came up from the hold 
 where they had been hiding, and lazily began to reef 
 the sails, to a great creaking of ropes, clanking of 
 iron, and rattling of blocks and cables. The vessel 
 pitched less violently, and gradually calmed down, 
 and rode the sea like a bird. But the strange clamor 
 continued, rising to a deafening din, that aroused 
 her from her deep sleep. 
 
 She sat up, and looked around her for the familiar 
 belongings of the little cottage. The gray light of 
 dawn was in her room, and a cool blast shrieked 
 through a shutter which was open above her head. 
 The deafening roar of artillery sounded around her, 
 occasionally varied by a shrill whirring and jangling, 
 and a scraping against her outer walls. The fierce 
 bay of the mastiff, apparently rising from the bowels 
 of the earth, proved that something strange and 
 unusual was going on. Had some invading army 
 passed the populous valley, to lay siege to her tiny 
 dwelling ? 
 
 She made a hasty toilet, thrust her feet into a 
 pair of small knit slippers, and essayed to make her 
 way to the door. This was a difficult feat, for the 
 floor was tilted from its proper level, and the wind
 
 44 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 appeared to come from all points of the compass 
 through her open casements. She found it necessary 
 to pursue a roundabout course, steadying herself 
 by grasping various articles firmly affixed to the 
 wall. 
 
 Her eyes were still dazed with sleep, but she was 
 dimly aware of a peculiar disorder in the room. 
 Only the locked doors of her dresser prevented the 
 china, which had all slid to the front of the shelves, 
 from falling to the floor. Under her feet were the 
 fragments of a glass jar she had left on the table 
 the night before, holding a branch of wild roses. As 
 she at last succeeded in gaining the opposite side of 
 the room, the frail structure gave one final lunge. 
 Again she heard the thunderous din outside, but 
 with this final reel and bump, as if first tossed on 
 the crest of a wave and then plunged in the trough 
 of the sea, the building appeared to come to a stand. 
 With trembling fingers the girl slid back the bolt 
 and opened the door. 
 
 It would not have surprised Miss Judith in the 
 least to have found a wild waste of blue waters foam 
 ing and churning about her. It did surprise her 
 very much to find her doorway completely obstructed 
 with a leafy barricade. She felt like the maiden in 
 the fairy tale, about whose abode the enchanted for 
 est springs up in a single night. While she stood, 
 uncertain and bewildered, she was startled by seeing 
 a man's face through the screen of foliage, and a 
 voice anxiously called her name. 
 
 " Miss Judith ! " 
 
 " Yes," she answered faintly. For the moment it
 
 UNDER SIEGE 45 
 
 was grateful to feel the nearness of a human being, 
 albeit that person was her enemy. 
 
 " Are you alive ? " 
 
 To this very superfluous question Miss Judith 
 returned a scornful response. 
 
 " Of course I am." 
 
 Mr. Paul seemed short of breath, like one who has 
 been undertaking some herculean exertion. Rank 
 suspicion rose in the lady's mind. 
 
 " Mr. Paul, what have you been doing to my 
 house ? " 
 
 " Merely staying it in place, that it may ride out 
 the gale," responded that gentleman coolly, although 
 she could see that he was mopping his forehead with 
 his handkerchief. 
 
 "But how dare you close up my door in this 
 way ? " demanded his small antagonist, viewing him 
 with wrathful intent. She followed the challenge 
 with a faint cry of terror, as the floor again rose 
 beneath her feet, so that she only saved herself from 
 falling by catching hold of the door, which swung 
 back on its hinges. 
 
 " Just wait till I take an extra turn of the wire 
 around that end," exclaimed Mr. Paul, and to her 
 surprise he disappeared skyward, and she heard light 
 touches along her roof, followed by a renewed jan 
 gling and clamor, in the midst of which the small 
 dwelling seemed to gradually right itself. 
 
 Feeling herself once more on a firm foundation, 
 Miss Judith brought all her pigmy strength to move 
 aside a great bough which was thrust across her en 
 trance. To her surprise it proved unyielding. Fait
 
 46 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 ing in her attempt to remove this obstacle, she parted 
 the lighter branches with her hands and peered 
 through them. In a direct line with her eyes, and 
 not half a dozen feet away, was a large nest, clum 
 sily built of twigs, from which four little bald heads 
 with yawning mouths were stretched. 
 
 The girl rubbed her eyes in mystification. 
 
 Again the legend of the forest occurred to her. 
 Or had she, herself, been in some enchanted sleep ? 
 How else could great living boughs interlace before 
 her door, and birds build their nest and rear their 
 young within them ? From the greedy little mouths 
 her gaze traveled downwards, and she could scarce 
 repress a scream of horror at seeing the ground some 
 twenty feet below her. 
 
 She was not slow to grasp what had actually oc 
 curred. The high wind, rising almost to a tempest 
 at daybreak, taking advantage of the broad eaves of 
 the tiny habitation and surging through her open 
 casements, had lifted the light structure as if it had 
 been a box kite, and carried it into the great oak- 
 tree that stood near by, where it had been wedged 
 fast among the branches. 
 
 Her neighbor again made his appearance, this time 
 beside the open window. She saw now that he carried 
 a coil of wire on his arm, and a hatchet in his hand. 
 
 " The wind was so high that I really felt uneasy 
 about you," he explained apologetically. "It oc 
 curred to me that it would n't be a bad plan to wire 
 the house down to the ground, as they do in tropical 
 countries where they build more solid structures, but 
 where hurricanes abound. I reached here just two
 
 UNDER SIEGE 47 
 
 minutes too late. You moved a little earlier than I 
 anticipated, Miss Judith. But permit me to con 
 gratulate you on your safe transit." 
 
 " I suppose I ought to be very thankful to you," 
 remarked the lady, comprehending the service that 
 he had rendered, and awarding him a doubtful grati 
 tude. 
 
 " Oh, not at all. There 's no occasion whatever ! " 
 declared her neighbor, deprecating her gratitude. 
 " As I understand the law, every improvement made 
 on my land, and not covered by special contract, 
 belongs to me. If I had n't reached here just in 
 time, you see you might have moved over on the 
 next section." 
 
 "This is preposterous," exclaimed the lady, her 
 spirit returning. " If this were true, then it would 
 simply mean that you are adding to my possessions 
 with your building up the gulch." 
 
 Mr. Paul paid no attention to this feminine out 
 burst, but went on as calmly and steadily as he could 
 in the teeth of the gale : 
 
 " You see, you put up this house without making 
 any contract whatever with me, and that makes it 
 my legal property. In securing it against further 
 pilgrimages, I am merely looking out for my own 
 interests. Fortunately, in making your ascent you 
 chose a side of the oak where the large branches 
 parted sufficiently to give almost free passage, and 
 the lighter twigs snapped off or were pushed aside. 
 I see there is a bit of the cornice missing, however, 
 and the roof is somewhat battered, but a bit of card 
 board and a pot of paste will make that all right."
 
 48 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Miss Judith was plainly offended at this light 
 assessment of damages her domicile had suffered, 
 as well as at the insidious reflection upon its light 
 structure. 
 
 " I shall have Mr. Birdsall up to make what re 
 pairs are necessary, as well as to put it in its proper 
 place again," she said stiffly. 
 
 "I trust you don't think of having it taken 
 down," Mr. Paul exclaimed, genuinely disapproving 
 and disappointed. "By nailing a step here and there, 
 you can have the most delightful winding staircase, 
 finished with a step or two at the bottom. And 
 you must excuse me for suggesting, Miss Judith, 
 that while the little dwelling was well, not exactly 
 a conspicuous feature of the landscape down on the 
 broad mesa, in its new location up in the clouds it is 
 really quite a stately mansion. You can live here, 
 secure from tramps and four-footed marauders, like 
 a like a"- 
 
 " Like a bird in a tree ! " completing his simile 
 with a curl of her little scarlet lip. " Thank you, 
 sir, for your very poetical suggestion, but I happen 
 to be a very practical person, and the idea is not at 
 all to my taste." 
 
 The young man accepted this withering rebuke in 
 good part, and retired from the scene. 
 
 When farmer Birdsall heard of the strange flight 
 undertaken by the paper cottage, he hastened to the 
 scene and listened gravely to the little lady's instruc 
 tions, but deliberately reconnoitred the situation 
 from every possible point of view before opening 
 his mouth to reply.
 
 UNDER SIEGE 49 
 
 " Now, Miss Judith," he protested, " you take my 
 advice, and don't you fly in the face of Providence, 
 which it has lodged your paper house in the very 
 identical place best fitted to it. Great Scott, if it 
 doesn't look for all the world like a nice, trim 
 pigeon-cote up thar, with all the latest improve 
 ments ! " 
 
 "Mr. Birdsall, I am the best judge of where I 
 want my house," replied the lady, with much dig 
 nity. " I prefer to live on the ground, like other 
 people." 
 
 " But, child, how you goin' to get it down from 
 thar? The' ain't enough jackscrews in the valley 
 to mount under it, an' when you get up to it, how 's 
 a man going to get it apart, or find a place to stand 
 while he 's lowering it ? If I could rig a scaffolding 
 up in the clouds, now, it would be an easy matter." 
 
 " The house must come down," said the girl 
 firmly. 
 
 " Oh, well, if you 're set on it, I s'pose it must," 
 conceded the old man. " Of course the oak '11 have 
 to come down with it." 
 
 " But I want the oak just where it is. It 's my 
 very largest and finest oak. I would n't part with 
 it for the world ! " 
 
 "But it can't be done without hacking it into 
 slivers. Don't ye see that when the wind hefted you 
 up an' toted you thar, only them big branches that 
 make the crown of the tree kept you from sailing 
 for kingdom come ? You brought up agin them, an' 
 then the whole concern must have fluttered there, 
 trying to get away, an' skewed around till it settled
 
 50 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 cornerwise: this near part over here wedged in 
 between the main trunk an' that big limb ; an' the 
 far corner ground itself in like it was mortised in 
 the crotch back there ; an' that man Paul has wired 
 it good an' fast. Come round this side an' see for 
 yourself. You can't unhook one of them roof sec 
 tions no way without lopping off all the top branches ; 
 an' you can't get the sides apart or off the floor till 
 you 've cut off the trunk at that p'int, an' the mo 
 ment you 've done that, the whole house 's loose, an' 
 liable to smash down before you can stop it." 
 
 " But it 's so ridiculous to take up one's residence 
 in a tree ! " cried the little woman, who could have 
 wept from vexation at discovering that she would 
 be compelled to accept Mr. Paul's advice. 
 
 " Don't you fret about that ! " said the good old 
 farmer, in a sorry effort at consolation. " It might 
 be for a big man, or even for a full-sized woman, but 
 for a little body like you, with no family, an' a 
 paper house, it 's a grand idee ! I see this end here 
 is a leetle out o' plumb, an' you just let me get my 
 spirit-level an' put a sycamore limb across them 
 two branches, an' make you a front doorstep an' 
 a bit of a railing about it, an' I '11 have you all 
 shipshape in less 'n two hours."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A WILLFUL WOMAN 
 
 AFTER a two days' blow the wind abated, and 
 was succeeded by a sky so serene and an atmosphere 
 so reposeful as to efface all recollection of the 
 weather's unseemly prank. A few days later Miss 
 Judith, who began to feel quite at home in her little 
 eyrie, was summoned to her door, to find the lank 
 Orlando gazing in admiration upon her lofty resi 
 dence. 
 
 " Beats Ja-Ja-Jack's Beanstalk all hollow now, 
 Miss Judith. Found the ogre up there ? " 
 
 "No, Orlando. My ogres are down on the 
 earth." 
 
 The boy's attention was drawn to the meshwork 
 of stout wire with which Mr. Paul had secured the 
 dwelling to the ground and tree. 
 
 " Wha-what 's that ? Bur-bur-burglar trap ? " 
 
 " The very latest patent, Orlando." 
 
 " Got a bell on the end of each one ? " 
 
 " That is n't necessary. The wire itself sounds a 
 loud enough alarm. Try it." 
 
 The lad complied, and the loud whirr of the wire 
 made good her assurance. His face beamed. 
 
 " You '11 have him slick, if he comes prowling 
 round here at night." 
 
 The young lady began to understand the trend of
 
 52 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 the youth's inquiries. To her shame be it said, 
 she permitted Orlando to believe that the wires were 
 designed to entrap the man who had so considerately 
 placed them there. Orlando had a fresh inspira 
 tion. 
 
 " Miss Judith, I '11 te-tell you what ! I got a 
 b-b-bear-trap to home. I '11 fetch it up and put it 
 by the tree. If he ge-gets that far, it '11 cat-catch 
 him by the leg." 
 
 "I think this will be sufficient, Orlando. But 
 I '11 remember the bear-trap, in case I need it. Is 
 that the sluice you have in the wagon ? " 
 
 "Yes, ma'am. Part of it. And I g-got a sp- 
 spade and a p-pick, weapons of warfare, Miss 
 Judith. I'll do him up. Strat-strat-egy is better 
 than powder and shot, you know." 
 
 The lady was at a loss to interpret the look of 
 owlish wisdom that accompanied this pledge, but set 
 it down to the youth's highly imaginative tempera 
 ment, and the novel he had taken with his breakfast 
 that morning. Her attention was at this moment 
 distracted from him by an imperative low from be 
 hind the great wagon, and the sight of a couple of 
 long horns and a streaked white face looking mourn 
 fully around the hind wheel. 
 
 " She 's a great one, is 3airy Ann ! " testified 
 Orlando. " Could n't come half fast enough up the 
 moun-mountain to suit her. She's been ducking 
 under and bump-bumping into the wagon all the 
 way. Wh-where '11 you have her staked ? " 
 
 " What do you think would be the best place? " 
 
 " There 's nothing for her to eat up here. That
 
 A WILLFUL WOMAN 53 
 
 fo-f oxtail 's no good for cows. There 's mi-mighty 
 good feeding on the fl-flat, below the house." 
 
 The young lady resigned the pastoral possibilities 
 of a heifer on her lawn the more readily as she be 
 came convinced, on a second inspection, that Sairy 
 Ann was not as picturesque as the cattle in her pic 
 ture. It was a decided advantage to her, in her new 
 role as a dairymaid, to have this country boy on 
 hand to initiate her into the mysteries of milking, 
 setting cream, skimming, and churning. She found 
 it to be an even greater advantage, as the days went 
 on, to have the aid of Orlando's long legs to pursue 
 the enterprising Sairy Ann, who was constantly 
 seeking green fields and pastures new, and who soon 
 displayed a very restless disposition and great skill 
 in untying her picket rope, developing prowess as a 
 sprinter, and leading the youth many a weary chase 
 up the hillside or down the canon. 
 
 Meantime the cabin across the gulch, taking form 
 more slowly and solidly than the paper house, was 
 finally completed. Miss Judith, who only beheld it 
 from afar, finding constant excuse to decline the 
 owner's pressing invitation to take a nearer view, 
 could not but acknowledge its picturesque simpli 
 city. Laid of rough-hewn logs, with a generous 
 adobe chimney swelling out, bell-shape, at one end, 
 and with a broad porch finished with a rustic bal 
 cony woven of rich-hued manzanita shrubs from 
 the surrounding hills, it had a singularly substantial 
 and home-like aspect, as of a dwelling long since 
 erected, and grown into complete harmony with its 
 surroundings.
 
 54 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Mr. Paul was certainly very obliging in these 
 days. He overwhelmed the lady with lovely picto 
 rial catalogues of all the seed-houses and nurseries 
 on the American continent, tempting and delusive 
 little periodicals, which set forth the virtues and 
 superiorities of all manner of vegetables and fruits 
 and flowers in the most alluring guise, and be 
 witched the little woman into sending order upon 
 order, until her bank account stood dangerously 
 near zero, and she realized that she had undertaken 
 gardening on a scale which would have kept a dozen 
 pairs of hands busily employed. Nor were her ven 
 tures confined to the plant world alone. She in 
 vested in a coop of guinea fowl, which disturbed 
 her rest at daylight with their discordant cries ; and 
 she imported a trio of snow-white turkeys, whose 
 plumage proved so shining a mark by night for the 
 coyotes that a solitary hen-turkey was soon the sole 
 survivor of the once happy family, wandering 
 through chaparral and gulches like a forlorn spirit, 
 or patiently sitting on nests of eggs in the greaser 
 grass, coming off gaunt and mournful, without the 
 comfort of a solitary chick. The man who prompted 
 all these enterprises was a heartless spectator of 
 their results. 
 
 Mr. Paul and Miss Judith, while outwardly civil 
 and even considerate in their treatment of each 
 other, had abated no whit of their original purpose. 
 Each looked forward with pleasurable anticipation 
 to the ultimate eviction of the enemy, and the exclu 
 sive possession of the disputed tract. In the mind 
 of the man there may have been an unconscious
 
 react ration, which, when his tide should be a 
 would have moved him to concede a 
 
 acreage to the lady, should her bucolic real really 
 the test of tone and 
 
 turn to him as an humble supplicant for miucy. 
 The lady herself was hke granite in her purpose. 
 M He shall not have a single acre nor a fraction of 
 
 how nice he tries to be, nothing can alter tike fact 
 that he came up here and persisted in building his 
 house when my cottage was already up and- 1 was 
 
 rf rf ~ M. 
 
 living in it. And he had fair warning that he was 
 on niv i.sm Q . 
 
 Meanwhile, strive as she might to be independent 
 of her neighbor and absolutely free from any obliga 
 tions to him, he was perpetually rendering assistance 
 with which she could ffl dispense. Through special 
 contract with the Birdsalk, father and son, her pro 
 visions and mail were brought up regularly twice a 
 week from the town in the valley; but when Mr. 
 Paul rode by on his sorrel mare, courteously asking 
 if he might do any errands on her behalf, her sugar 
 was sure to be out, or baking powder, yeast, soap, or 
 
 e adjunct of ernfiaed exist- 
 
 ence had run short, and before she could cheek her 
 self, the want would be on her lips, or to be plainly 
 read in her face. 
 
 ^"iivn tasks or chore? :->.-> heavy for her own 
 strength needed to be performed, Mr. Paul always 
 seemed either to anticipate the need, or to present 
 his services at the opportune moment. 
 
 Miss Judith may or may not hare been by nature
 
 56 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 vindictive, but there is nothing so arouses the spirit 
 of mischief in a woman as to have a man steadfastly 
 persist in unasked and undesired attentions, which 
 nevertheless could ill be spared by the recipient. 
 The lady repaid him with every malicious little 
 prank, every neglectful and inconsiderate act, that 
 her fertile brain could devise. 
 
 Most vexatious was this relation of helpless de 
 pendence when accident brought it to the knowledge 
 of the outer world. 
 
 " Well, I swan ! " exclaimed old farmer Birdsall, 
 bringing a load of pumpkins up to the cottage one 
 day, and coming upon a truly pastoral scene. 
 
 A row of freshly dug holes in the loamy earth 
 back of the cottage indicated the destination of 
 some raspberry vines, whose scraggy branches were 
 bravely beginning to leave out from a trench where 
 they had lately been " heeled in." 
 
 At the end of the row Miss Judith stood, one 
 gloved hand holding upright the tip of a thorny 
 stalk, while Mr. Paul industriously shoveled earth 
 about its roots. 
 
 The girl was manifestly embarrassed by the arri 
 val of the visitor. Not so the young man, who 
 greeted the old farmer in the most cordial way. 
 
 " Just in the nick of time with our planting, are 
 we not ? " he asked, indicating a gray bank gather 
 ing in the southeast. 
 
 " Nothing but fog. 'T is n't time for a southeaster 
 this season o' year," corrected the man of experience 
 indulgently. " By Jumbo ! So you 've made up 
 friends, an' settled your diffunces. Now I says to
 
 A WILLFUL WOMAN 57 
 
 my wife, I says, ' There 's that man an' that woman, 
 up that gulch, each of 'em alone to theirselves, an' 
 no one can tell when they '11 need a good neighbor, 
 pow'ful bad,' I says. ' An' if, insted o' jawin' an' 
 scrappin', they 'd just look at things sensible-like, an' 
 settle up their diffunces,' I says, * they 'd both be 
 showing long heads an' live together in neighborly 
 peace.' " 
 
 " But we 're not neighbors. Mr. Paul 's my ten 
 ant," interposed Miss Judith quickly. 
 
 " You don't mean to say you can get any rent for 
 that little patch o' land up there, half a mile from 
 any road. No pasture, no grain land, no nothing ! " 
 
 " I am sorry to contradict the lady," put in Mr. 
 Paul gravely, " but the fact is, Miss Judith 's my 
 tenant. Her rent is in arrears, and this is the only 
 way I have of getting even with her. No, Miss 
 Judith, I would n't stamp the earth down with my 
 foot. This is the better way, if you will permit 
 me ! " he added seriously, firming the earth around 
 the roots of the plant with the pressure of his palms. 
 
 Occasionally Mr. Paul's sufferings were along 
 the lines of strictly poetic justice. The guinea-fowl 
 took a fancy to change their roosting-place to the 
 trees bordering the stream close by his cabin, and 
 awakened him in turn with their unearthly clamor 
 at daybreak. The white turkey's favorite foraging- 
 ground was upon his newly planted beet patch ; 
 while Sairy Ann, escaping from her tether, invari 
 ably chose her race-course through his garden and 
 around his abode ; and although on such occasions 
 Mr. Paul would bring back the truant himself, lead-
 
 58 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 ing her by her rope to her assigned pasture-ground, 
 Miss Judith received the prodigal without a word of 
 regret or apology for the damage she had wrought. 
 
 On the other hand, Mr. Paul's sorrel mare had a 
 naughty habit of sometimes straying beyond bounds, 
 and on more than one occasion, after a hard day's 
 toil, he passed Miss Judith's abode, halter in hand, 
 pursuing an imaginary track leading into the next 
 canon or down into the valley, only to return at 
 dusk, after a fruitless search, to find the animal 
 quietly grazing under the oaks. At such times he 
 had a shrewd suspicion that the animal had been 
 in the near vicinity of Miss Judith's dwelling all 
 the time, and that the lady of the mansion might 
 have spared him weary hours of unproductive exer 
 tion, had she chosen. 
 
 Orlando's job at Miss Judith's, which she had 
 expected to have finished in a few days at most, 
 extended itself to weeks. When she expressed im 
 patience at the long delay in bringing water so short 
 a distance, he puckered up his mouth wisely. 
 
 " Better make a good, sol-solid job, Miss Judith, 
 a good, solid job while we 're about it ! " 
 
 His parents, suspecting that the unconscionable 
 time the boy expended up the gulch was being squan 
 dered upon trapping birds or in studying the habits 
 of the wild things about him, with a zeal for natural 
 history which had been strictly discountenanced by 
 his wise elders, communicated these misgivings to 
 Miss Judith. She thereupon made several trips 
 to the scene of Orlando's labors, to ascertain what 
 progress he was making, but invariably found the
 
 A WILLFUL WOMAN 59 
 
 youth working like a savage, shoveling earth or 
 picking rock. It occurred to her, one of these times, 
 that he was making very elaborate preparations for 
 the laying of a small box sluice. 
 
 " Is it the custom, Orlando, to dig a ditch as big 
 and deep as this, to lay a sluice in ? " she once 
 asked. 
 
 " Nothing like making a good, sol-solid job while 
 we 're about it, Miss Judith," he repeated. " Them 's 
 my sentiments. This here sluice is come to stay. 
 It ain't going to be washed away by the first 
 st-storm ; and if it si-slops over, there '11 be some 
 thing to catch the water, and keep it from mud- 
 mud-muddying up the whole country." 
 
 As his work finally neared completion, she em 
 phatically objected to carrying ditch and sluice past 
 her cottage. 
 
 " All I want is water for the house, and to irrigate 
 my berry patch back of it," she explained. 
 
 " That 's all r-r-right, ma'am. You only need to 
 pull this pi-plug, and you 've got the water where 
 you need it. But what '11 you do when you ain't 
 using it? It'll be sp-spilling all over your yard, 
 making it all nasty and sog-soggy. You just let 
 it run down hill in the pas-pasture, and you can 
 have as pretty an al-al-alfalfa field as there is in the 
 valley." 
 
 Miss Judith appreciated the wisdom of Orlan 
 do's plans the day when the water was first turned 
 into the sluice. It overflowed the latter and filled 
 the ditch from bank to bank, a boiling torrent, dis 
 charging itself in a stream like a waterspout down
 
 60 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 the hillside, hydraulicking a miniature lake in the 
 meadow below in the course of a few minutes. She 
 followed the course of this waterfall, and saw a 
 ghastly head, crowned by a pair of long horns, lifted 
 above the surface of the pond. Orlando flew to 
 Sairy Ann's rescue. With a few energetic strokes 
 of his shovel he diverted the water, distributing the 
 main current into a number of harmless minor 
 streams, which trickled peacefully over the arid 
 land. 
 
 " Good thing she 's got such long legs, Miss 
 Judith ! " he cried. " Sairy Ann was n't born to 
 be drowned. My land ! Would n't she make a 
 spr-sprinter, now ? " 
 
 " I suppose it 's a great advantage to a cow," re 
 plied the lady doubtfully; "but I can't see the 
 exact value of such a possession to the owner." 
 
 "Sid-Sid-Sidney Smith says, Miss Judith, that 
 true economy is the ap-application of waste forces. 
 Now, there are Sairy Ann's legs going all to waste. 
 It just ri-riles me to think of it." 
 
 Orlando pondered the subject of Sairy Ann's 
 phenomenal legs to some purpose. In the end he 
 constructed a treadmill attachment to Miss Judith's 
 rotary churn, placed Sairy Ann in the mill, and 
 travelers through the wilds of the Vernal Hills were 
 thereafter treated to the unwonted sight of a long- 
 legged red cow placidly chewing her cud, and churn 
 ing her own cream into butter. 
 
 The afternoon that Orlando completed his triumph 
 of hydraulic engineering, and turned the water into 
 ditch and sluice, Mr. Paul rode up to the cottage
 
 A WILLFUL WOMAN 61 
 
 and hailed the youth, who had gathered up his tools 
 and was on the point of departure. 
 
 " I want to know under whose instructions you 
 have been acting in making this ditch ? " demanded 
 the young man. " Is this an original idea of yours, 
 or are you acting under directions ? " 
 
 Miss Judith saved the startled and stammering 
 boy the embarrassment of replying, appearing 
 promptly at the cottage door. 
 
 " He has been acting solely under my instructions 
 and directions, Mr. Paul," she answered, lifting her 
 small head proudly. 
 
 Instead of addressing her with his usual gentle 
 courtesy, Mr. Paul was formal and severe. 
 
 " Then the water here was taken from the stream 
 by your direction and at your instance, Miss Ju 
 dith ? " he said coldly. 
 
 " Certainly ! " answered the girl, even more icily, 
 indignant at his tone and demand. 
 
 " What am I to understand, then ? " 
 
 "Understand! Understand that I assert my 
 right to the water. That I am going to have the 
 very nicest berries next summer that have ever been 
 grown in the Vernal Hills ! " 
 
 Mr. Paul was very pale, and was evidently exer 
 cising severe self-restraint. Twice he opened his 
 lips to speak, but resolutely closed them. At length, 
 lifting his hat, he rode down in the direction of the 
 valley. 
 
 After this episode, which Miss Judith pondered 
 with growing resentment and perplexity, a very per 
 ceptible change entered into Mr. Paul's behavior.
 
 62 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 She was no longer annoyed by his solicitous atten 
 tions. Although he still occasionally offered some 
 slight service, these offers were made in a perfunc 
 tory way, and he did not appear in the least sur 
 prised when they were declined. They soon fell 
 into a habit of merely bowing very distantly when 
 they met, and these meetings were as seldom as Miss 
 Judith could make them, for she took great pains to 
 retreat into her castle whenever she saw her surly 
 neighbor approaching. 
 
 The rains came early that season, and when a car 
 pet of verdure began to cover all the hills and val 
 leys, when the streams went leaping madly down the 
 gulches, swollen with winter floods, and the few de 
 ciduous trees along their margin, shaking themselves 
 free from the dying leaves that still clung to their 
 branches, began to timidly put forth new buds and 
 tassels, it was observable that Mr. Paul's manner 
 toward his little neighbor relaxed. But Miss Judith, 
 vaguely wounded and resenting his unaccountable 
 behavior, received these overtures coldly, and gave 
 him no encouragement to attempt to pass the invisi 
 ble barrier which had somehow grown up between 
 them.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AN ARMISTICE 
 
 WITH two healthy and, on the whole, normal 
 young people, such a state of affairs could not for 
 ever continue, and this sense of bitter hostility, 
 whatever its source, dissolved in a gust of childish 
 merriment on Christmas Day. 
 
 It was a day of memories to both, a day that it 
 required strength and courage to calmly face. Miss 
 Judith had risen at daybreak that morning, and 
 gone energetically about her tasks, shutting out all 
 thought of past or future. She had cared for her 
 cow and chickens, swept and dusted her house, and 
 set about some unusually elaborate preparations for 
 her solitary afternoon meal. And then, in the midst 
 of a pastry baking, she had suddenly gone to a little 
 cabinet that hung on her wall, and had taken out a 
 photograph, looking long and sadly at the handsome 
 boyish face, bowing over it, in a tempest of tears, 
 crying wildly : 
 
 " Oh, Rob, Rob ! My dear, dear boy ! Where 
 are you to-day? I am so lonely, so lonely, Rob, 
 without you ! " 
 
 Having regained her composure, trying to escape 
 from herself and her sorrows, her thoughts had 
 turned to her lonely neighbor up the gulch, and, 
 although she would, without compunction, have
 
 64 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 robbed him of land and property, her woman's heart 
 was overwhelmed with pity as she reflected that, 
 being a man, he could by no possibility be able to 
 prepare himself a decent Christmas dinner ! 
 
 With Miss Judith, to think was to act. She has 
 tened back to her kitchen, renewed her labors with 
 new zeal, lit all the burners of the gasoline range, 
 and soon through doors and windows floated savory 
 vapors, appealing to hungry nostrils. 
 
 It was but a little past noon when the girl set out 
 on her mission of charity. She had, with feminine 
 inconsistency, gowned herself daintily for the occa 
 sion, having donned a pale gray cambric, finished 
 with fine needlework at collar and wrists, and wear 
 ing smoked-pearl ornaments ; and with her gray chip 
 hat tied down over her ears, and a covered basket 
 on her arm, she looked like some sedate little shep 
 herdess. An expression of conscious rectitude was 
 on her face, the light of her generous purpose 
 shone in her eyes. 
 
 Halfway down the trail she met Mr. Paul. One 
 of his arms clasped a mass of manzanita branches 
 laden with clustered scarlet berries, the Christmas 
 holly of California. In the other hand he carried 
 a platter, and on it was a smoking haunch of 
 venison. 
 
 " I could not be so selfish as to enjoy these alone," 
 he began. 
 
 " Nor I ! " she chimed, holding up her basket. 
 
 Both laughed. 
 
 " Now that you are so far on the way, come to my 
 cabin," he urged.
 
 AN ARMISTICE 65 
 
 " No. Let us go back to my cottage." 
 
 " Miss Judith, suppose we compromise and take 
 our Christmas dinner in the open," proposed the 
 young man. " I know a delightful spot, not a stone's 
 throw away." 
 
 Nothing loath, she followed him along a narrow 
 path through the underbrush, to where a tiny bench 
 lay like a shelf on the steep bluff, making room for 
 a giant live-oak. A great boulder beneath its shade 
 offered a solid if somewhat uneven table. 
 
 " We will lunch in the old Eoman style. Here 
 is my divan ! " cried Mr. Paul, throwing himself 
 down on the sod beneath, green as emerald. 
 
 She seated herself more cautiously, furtively ex 
 amining the ground for ants and spiders, and 
 selecting for herself a hollow in the roots of the tree. 
 
 Mr. Paul had placed the venison on top of the big 
 rock, and he now threw the bright berries around 
 her, embowering her in green and scarlet. 
 
 " You look like a veritable wood-nymph," he said 
 lightly. " All in gray and green. When you have 
 finished eating, I shall expect you to knock on the 
 trunk of the oak and disappear, like the hamadryads 
 of old." 
 
 " Instead of which, belonging to this very prosaic 
 age, I shall go home and wash my dishes," she re 
 plied. " But first let us dispose of their contents." 
 
 Out of her basket came a roast chicken, nicely 
 browned, with a little flask of warm gravy ; Boston 
 brown bread and butter ; crisp lettuce, dressed with 
 mayonnaise ; cream puffs ; a mould of jelly ; a tiny 
 plum-pudding, and a couple of mince turnovers.
 
 66 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Mr. Paul watched these revelations with a greedy 
 eye. 
 
 " The first civilized food I have seen in six 
 months ! " he averred. 
 
 " See that you do justice to it ! " returned the 
 girl, secretly pluming herself on her discernment. 
 " And this is my first game for a twelvemonth." 
 
 " Here is an ideal carver." 
 
 He drew from its sheath a horn-handled hunting- 
 knife with a flashing blade, politely tendering the 
 use of his pocket-knife to her. 
 
 They ate slowly and luxuriously, with keen appe 
 tites whetted by the fresh outdoor air and the exer 
 tions of the day. Sometimes they chatted pleasantly 
 together. More often they gazed silently down into 
 the pretty nook where the stream rippled below, or 
 out over the distant valley with its farms and vil 
 lages fronting the dazzling, restless sea. 
 
 " Why did you come up here ? " she asked him 
 once, impetuously. 
 
 " I had a purse of gold," he answered dreamily. 
 " From my earliest recollection, I possessed it. 
 Although I spent freely of it, it never was empty. 
 It brought me friends, popularity, comfort, occupa 
 tion. I thought it never could be exhausted. But 
 one day I drew from it my last coin. The purse 
 itself vanished. I came up here to repent my folly." 
 
 She heard him gravely and thoughtfully. 
 
 " And you ? " he at length said. 
 
 " I had no purse. If I had owned one, I would 
 not have cared for it. But I had a beautiful gem. 
 I was told that if I would keep it untarnished, I
 
 AN ARMISTICE 67 
 
 would one day be crowned a queen, with this stone 
 for the chief of my crown jewels. One day I lost 
 it. I ain always seeking it, but I can never find it." 
 
 Her voice had sunk into a tone of indescribable 
 pathos. He reached over and gently placed upon 
 her bare head the chaplet of manzanita berries that 
 he had been weaving. 
 
 " You shall still be crowned," he said. " These 
 are better than jewels." 
 
 Old memories again had possession of her. She 
 did not raise her eyes lest he should see the tears 
 that had gathered there. Had she encountered his 
 gaze in that moment, she might have seen a look 
 that comes into a man's face but once in a lifetime. 
 
 The sun was dropping low in the west and the 
 shadows growing long. She sprang to her feet, 
 dropping the chaplet. Again she was the matter-of- 
 fact little woman of the paper cottage. 
 
 " It is growing late. The mists are rising, and 
 my chickens will be clamoring for their supper," she 
 said, beginning to clear away the remnants of the 
 feast. The young man joined her. 
 
 " ' A banquet-hall deserted ! ' " he quoted, looking 
 back under the oak, as they walked away. " But 
 how pleasant it has been ! " 
 
 " It has been dreadfully unconventional," mur 
 mured the girl shyly. 
 
 *' I have found that the dearest pleasures in the 
 world, and the purest and most innocent, are apt to be 
 unconventional," returned the young man earnestly. 
 
 He accompanied her back to the mesa, declining 
 her invitation to tarry there.
 
 68 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 " For this one perfect day, I am tempted to for 
 give you all of my injuries," he said, lingering there. 
 
 " Your injuries ! If any one has been the injured 
 party, I am sure it is I," declared Miss Judith, 
 drawing up her slight figure and darting an indig 
 nant glance at him. 
 
 " Never mind ! Some day I shall wipe out all old 
 scores in one master stroke of retribution. Until 
 then, I grant you absolution." 
 
 Firm in the conviction of the justice of her cause 
 and the integrity of her every act, Miss Judith 
 reviewed this parting charge of Mr. Paul's, and 
 at each rehearsal of this interview gathered fresh re 
 sentment. Failing to account for this extraordinary 
 accusation coming so suddenly in the wake of so 
 pleasant an afternoon, she set him down as a man 
 of moods, whose disposition nobody could rely 
 upon. Being an exceedingly well-balanced young 
 woman herself, she decided Mr. Paul's vagaries to 
 be inexcusable.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 IN the valley, dark rumors of a mysterious nature 
 were being circulated concerning Mr. Paul. 
 
 The time has gone by when a hermit could dwell 
 tranquilly in his cave, wrapt in reverie and undis 
 turbed by the intrusion of vulgar curiosity. No 
 matter how resolutely a man in these days attempts 
 to separate himself from the world, society will seek 
 him out, going about the errand with all the more 
 avidity because of the interest aroused by any ec 
 centric variation from the common human type. Mr. 
 Paul, who would have held himself aloof from his 
 fellows, who made no acquaintances and was mani 
 festly lacking in the first gregarian instinct, found 
 that, unless he wished to set up a reputation as a ver 
 itable monster, he must open his doors to certain 
 travelers, and extend a sincere hospitality to unbid 
 den guests. 
 
 It is an honored custom of the California moun 
 tains to freely welcome to the meanest cabin every 
 man journeying through the wilderness, a custom 
 handed down from the much despised and griev 
 ously misjudged native Californians of Mexican 
 ancestry, among whom the poorest and lowliest ex 
 hibit kindly hearts and an unreckoning generosity 
 which puts to shame the calculating Gringo.
 
 70 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Throughout the mountain regions of southern 
 California, any man who is " on the trail " may 
 enter a cabin, even in the owner's absence, possess 
 himself of bed and blankets, and help himself from 
 whatever stores the abode contains. If he be able 
 and considerate, he will leave a supply of sugar, 
 coffee, tobacco, or ammunition to compensate for 
 what he has taken ; but the more common practice 
 is to trust to chance to return such hospitality in 
 kind. 
 
 Mr. Paul's house, being directly on the line of a 
 trail leading to a favorite pass over the sierra, of 
 fered a convenient camping-ground for men coming 
 up from the valley who wished to make an early 
 start up the ascent the next morning. Sportsmen, 
 cattlemen, ranchers, miners, came constantly to his 
 door. In stormy weather, it was a common expe 
 rience for him to be awakened at midnight by the 
 entrance of some mountaineer who had compassed 
 the passage of the range in rain or snow, who would 
 silently stir up the dying embers in the fireplace, 
 throw on a stick of wood, and, without a word, 
 wrapping his blankets around him, stretch himself 
 out on the hearth like a tired dog, to sleep off his 
 fatigue. 
 
 Little by little, strange stories related by these 
 wayfarers began to find circulation in the valley, 
 which had never understood Mr. Paul, and, not un 
 derstanding him, had all along sternly disapproved 
 of the young man and his ways. 
 
 Mrs. Birdsall, coming up, armed with her knit 
 ting, to spend the afternoon with Miss Judith, first 
 brought tidings of these weird tales.
 
 THE BLACK CURTAIN 71 
 
 " Now, what do you think, Miss Judith ! They say 
 he has a big curtain, black as night, stretched across 
 the hull end of his big room." 
 
 " I should certainly say that he had questionable 
 taste," replied the girl smiling. 
 
 " Taste ! But you ought to hear the way the men 
 all carry on 'bout the fancy fixin's he has round ! 
 Carpets hanging on the wall, with the floor all bare, 
 if you '11 believe me ! Plates with pictures on 'em 
 stuck up on nails, an' more flummeries and gim- 
 cracks, from what they say, than Mis' Montrose has 
 in her parlor, an' she tuk a whole course in decorat 
 ing art, she did ! Taste ! He 's got loads of it, 
 hammered brass things, an' china, an' sech ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " commented Miss Judith, much edified. 
 
 " There 's no question about his havin' taste, an' 
 to spare," persevered Mrs. Birdsall. " But why he 
 should string up that great curtain, black as night, 
 is what gets me. Nobody 's ever seen him go behind 
 it, an' when some of 'em made bold enough to ask 
 him what it 's for, he just lets on like he does n't 
 hear 'em." 
 
 " Perhaps he hangs his clothes behind it, or keeps 
 his books there, or uses it for a little storeroom, or 
 something," suggested the girl. 
 
 " Humph ! Clothes-press ten feet across an' fifteen 
 feet long ! Pretty good size for a closet, ain't it ! 
 Abe Workman got the measure by pacing off the 
 floor inside, an' measurin' the outside of the timbers 
 when Mr. Paul was n't round. Abe, he let on to go 
 behind it an' see for himself what was there, he did, 
 that same time. But he 'clared to goodness, Abe
 
 72 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 did, an' he 's a truthful man an' no coward, that 
 the minute he touched his hand to the curtain some 
 thing came over him like a 'lectric shock, an' he 
 just had to drop it." 
 
 Miss Judith was suddenly reminded of the piece 
 of heavy black cloth she had seen hanging from the 
 packing-case on the occasion of her first and only 
 visit to her neighbor's chosen home-site. She re 
 called the strange creeping sensation she had ex 
 perienced on seeing it. Even now, sitting in the 
 bright, wholesome sunlight, a shudder stole over her 
 at the recollection. 
 
 " Not a door or window is there in all that end o' 
 the cabin ! " insisted Mrs. Birdsall impressively. 
 " And that black curtain hanging from the ceiling 
 to the floor. Do you know the only place they sell 
 that sort o' cloth? Abe Workman worked along 
 o' an undertaker when he was a young man, and he 
 knows ! " 
 
 There was something blood-curdling in the infer 
 ence to be drawn from this statement of her visitor, 
 but Miss Judith struggled against it. 
 
 " Perhaps he is an inventor," she said cheerfully. 
 " And possibly he lifts the black curtain when no one 
 is there to see or disturb him. He may be at work 
 on some instrument or machine he keeps behind it. 
 Perhaps it is some electrical device that carries a 
 charged atmosphere about it, and the black curtain 
 may be a sort of shield, a non-conductor, to keep its 
 influence from extending further." 
 
 The visitor gave a contemptuous sniff at this pro 
 posed explanation.
 
 THE BLACK CURTAIN 73 
 
 " If it 's an instrument, or a machine, as you say, 
 it 's something he does n't want people to see. 
 Mark my words, Miss Judith, that black curtain 
 means no good ! " 
 
 " Why, I shall have to go up to Mr. Paul's cabin 
 and see this mysterious drapery for myself," said 
 the girl laughing. " He has often invited me. 
 And then, when he is showing me over his dwell 
 ing, which he declares much more substantial than 
 mine, I will myself lift the black curtain and see 
 what lies behind it." 
 
 " Don't you do no such thing, Miss Judith ! " 
 the elder woman earnestly conjured her. " You 're 
 young, and haven't had much experunce, I dare 
 say, an' don't know much yet, but let me tell you 
 it 's evil things an' evil ways that hides theirselves 
 in darkness. One o' these days we '11 hear more o' 
 this here Mr. Paul." 
 
 " You mean " began the girl, seriously con 
 cerned. 
 
 " Yes, my dear. I mean he may be up to doin's 
 that '11 yet bring him to public notice," stated the 
 old lady placidly. " Now, I '11 tell you suthin' my 
 boy Orlando told me last night, an' made me pro 
 mise I 'd never tell. Only you must n't say no word 
 about it. The' 's a pile o' counterfeit half dollars 
 lately been put in circ'lation in this county some- 
 wheres." 
 
 " And Mr. Paul " 
 
 " I make no accusations, an' I don't say he 's in 
 nocent, an' I don't say he 's guilty, mind you ! But 
 one o' these days we '11 be hearing more about this
 
 74 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Mr. Paul, an' people far an' wide '11 hear it ; an' 
 this black curtain is goin' to be lifted some day, an' 
 it '11 cut a figure in the story ! " 
 
 Miss Judith laughed. She could not know that 
 one day Mrs. Birdsall's prediction would be fulfilled, 
 and that she herself would play a part in the stirring 
 drama.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY 
 
 HITHERTO Mr. Paul had been an embarrassment 
 to Miss Judith, a person whose presence upon her 
 claim was a menace to her rights, who deserved and 
 received her condemnation from a strictly business 
 point of view. Yet there were times when she would 
 very much have liked to recognize this antagonist as 
 her friend, had such an attitude been consistent with 
 her material interests. 
 
 The strange rumors brought to her knowledge by 
 Mrs. Birdsall invested him with a new and uncanny 
 interest. Previous to this she had accepted him for 
 what he had seemed, a frank, straightforward, 
 though somewhat obstinate young man, whose 
 claims were unfortunately in conflict with her own, 
 but who was to be tolerated, and accorded a certain 
 sympathy when the case should be decided in her 
 favor, a result which she never for a moment ques 
 tioned. Now she recalled the saying of an old 
 heathen philosopher to the effect that the greatest 
 secretiveness of character was invariably concealed 
 beneath the mask of an apparently open and confid 
 ing nature, and she recalled countless incidents in 
 support of this theory, significant reservations and 
 more significant half admissions, all of which went 
 to prove that Mr. Paul was a man whose past was
 
 76 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 veiled in mystery, and who carried beneath his 
 frank countenance some dark secret which the black 
 curtain symbolized. 
 
 Personal thoughts and morbid forebodings dare 
 not intrude too constantly upon the man or woman 
 who undertakes to keep pace with the demands of 
 California ranch life. Here nature has no period 
 of rest, and her ceaseless activity from year's begin 
 ning to year's end exacts corresponding attention 
 from those who would reap her bounty. With 
 chickens hatching, strawberries blossoming, fruit 
 ing, and sending out runners every month in the 
 year, raspberries and blackberries bearing at longer 
 intervals, but in ever increasing quantities, and 
 miscellaneous gardening in progress all the year 
 round, Miss Judith had no leisure and little thought 
 to give to Mr. Paul and his black curtain. 
 
 It cannot be said that all of these rural enter 
 prises prospered. Flocks of brown birds contended 
 with cutworms for her early vegetables, and other 
 pests attacked the tender growths ; for it is a pain 
 ful fact, learned through sad experience by those 
 who for the first time break virgin soil along the 
 foot-hills of the Coast Range, that close proxim 
 ity to wild primeval growth brings down upon the 
 rancher a host of small enemies of every descrip 
 tion, which leave devastation in their wake. It was 
 only through unflagging industry and constant 
 attention that a meagre crop of berries was pre 
 served from these scourges, and Miss Judith had 
 the pleasure of marketing, from her own ground 
 and as the achievement of her own hands' labor,
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY 77 
 
 some of the choicest fruit ever seen in the Golden 
 State. 
 
 No Wall Street broker ever enjoyed a triumph so 
 lofty, an exultation so great, or a pride so whole 
 some and so abounding, as that which comes to the 
 man or woman who for the first time wrests from 
 Mother Earth, by individual labor, some delicious 
 article of food of marketable value, and who learns 
 what it is to become enrolled as one of the producers 
 among the human race. 
 
 The girl was too exhausted with picking and 
 packing the berries in their square splint boxes to 
 accompany Orlando, who carried the fruit down to 
 the village grocer, on the occasion of his semi-weekly 
 visit to the mesa, bringing supplies for the fair lady. 
 She did not enjoy the full measure of her triumph 
 until the following Saturday, when she stepped into 
 the store, and realized the distinction she had 
 achieved. 
 
 " Miss Judith, I just want to congratulate you on 
 them berries ! " cried the grocer, extending a horny 
 palm. 
 
 " Is this the lady who raised those berries you 
 had on exhibition last week, Tom ? " asked a lounger, 
 whose easy address and confident manner proclaimed 
 him a man of local prestige. " Then I must chip 
 in with my compliments. Madam, they beat any 
 thing that Jim Thompson ever raised. My wife says 
 she would never buy another berry from Thompson, 
 if she could be sure of getting these big red berries 
 all the time." 
 
 This was praise indeed, could the lady but have
 
 78 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 known it. Thompson was a nurseryman who sup 
 plied all the country about with small fruits in their 
 season, and who was popularly supposed to be the 
 highest authority in horticultural matters on the 
 Pacific Coast. 
 
 Miss Judith acknowledged these tributes with 
 dignity. 
 
 " Where 'd you get the variety?" pursued the 
 last speaker. 
 
 " From a Northern seed-house and nursery. It 's 
 entirely new, but they recommend it above every 
 thing else." 
 
 " They 're right. Let me give you one caution," 
 said the citizen kindly. " Don't you let Jim Thomp 
 son get hold of any plants. Going to be able to 
 ship any berries this season?" 
 
 " Oh, no," replied the girl. " I have n't under 
 taken raising them on any such scale." 
 
 " I advise you to hurry up, then, and get ready 
 by another season: It 'd pay you. Shows what 
 can be done in this climate, with good soil and 
 plenty of water," he added, turning to the store 
 keeper. 
 
 " You 're right. The Vernal Hills can beat the 
 world every time, just you give them moisture 
 enough ! " assented the latter. " How does that 
 man named Paul your neighbor up there take 
 it about the water?" he asked, turning to Miss 
 Judith, for whom he was doing up a parcel. 
 
 " I beg your pardon ? " said his customer. 
 
 "That fellow Paul! Didn't he make any kick 
 about the water ? "
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY 79 
 
 " Of course not," returned the girl stiffly. " He 
 knows I am entitled to the whole stream." 
 
 " When it comes to a question of water, in this 
 country, it does n't seem to much matter what a per 
 son is entitled to," declared the man, with a dry 
 smile. " More than one poor fellow in the Vernal 
 Hills has had a bullet put through him for taking 
 what the law entitled him to." 
 
 Beyond a sense of displeasure at having her affairs 
 so freely discussed in the settlement, this conversa 
 tion left little impression upon Miss Judith. The 
 day came when she was destined to recall it with 
 amazement at her own dullness. 
 
 A berry farm, judiciously conducted, is a small 
 mint in California. Stimulated by this advice, Miss 
 Judith, who, although seemingly possessed of very 
 modest tastes, was nevertheless an exceedingly avari 
 cious little woman, began to plan for the extension 
 of her small plantation, and to lie awake nights 
 counting her prospective profits. 
 
 All told, she had scarcely one tenth of an acre in 
 berries, yet at the rate they were yielding, and with 
 the increased crops which might be expected in an 
 other year, a full acre would yield a comfortable 
 living for a family. There were not less than three 
 acres of her strip of upland, and another acre or so 
 in the meadow below, which might be similarly 
 planted and irrigated. To do this would require 
 a considerable outlay in the way of hired labor, and 
 it would be necessary to begin at once to propagate 
 on a large scale from the vines already brought to 
 the point of production, thus cutting short her 
 coming crops.
 
 80 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 The girl had a shrewd suspicion that Mr. Paul 
 looked upon her small successes with a jealous eye. 
 She had an even better founded suspicion that his 
 own proudly vaunted bucolic enterprises had proved 
 a dismal failure. Nor did she spare his feelings, for 
 she diligently tormented him with mock solicitude, 
 inquiring feelingly for his onions and cabbages, and 
 slyly insinuating that the valley below was waiting 
 with bated breath to witness the marketing of his 
 crops. Mr. Paul turned these inquiries aside with 
 a dignity which ill concealed his vexation, but she 
 was wholly unprepared for the revenge she one day 
 discovered that he had taken. 
 
 This second summer of the young lady's life in 
 the Vernal Hills was warm and dry. The winter 
 rains had suddenly ceased in mid-March, and were 
 succeeded by frequent scorching winds, termed 
 "northers" in the parlance of the district, which 
 dried up the short herbage on the hills and caused 
 fields of barley hay to mature before their time, so 
 that before the month of May was well past, farmers 
 had for the most part cut and harvested their short, 
 succulent hay crops, and were sadly recounting their 
 losses. The effect of two successive years of a rain 
 fall below the average was severely felt throughout 
 the country. Wells were everywhere drying up, 
 streams ran low or altogether failed, and the pro 
 blem of securing a sufficient water supply every 
 where became the absorbing question of the hour. 
 Men quarreled and fought over the possession of 
 little springs. Homes were abandoned, families 
 broken up, life-long enmities created, and the peace
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY 81 
 
 of neighborhoods destroyed by wrangling over this 
 all-engrossing subject. Expensive litigation, sapping 
 the very life-blood of the farmer, ensued. 
 
 Miss Judith, who had all along had water and to 
 spare, was not alarmed when the ditch in which 
 her sluice was laid began to run low and at length 
 became altogether dry. A gay little stream still 
 coursed merrily along the wooden conduit, and the 
 small galvanized tank she had at the beginning 
 of the season placed above her cottage, connected 
 by a pipe with a box in the sluice, was filled, yield 
 ing her an ample household supply. 
 
 In late July she observed, with some concern, that 
 the water in the sluice was lowering. By the first 
 of August barely half an inch flowed along the 
 sluice, and she began to practice economy in her 
 irrigation, watering her berries in sections, instead 
 of treating all to a deluge in one and the same 
 hour. 
 
 One day she saw that the water no longer flowed 
 along the sluice below the box which filled her tank- 
 pipe, unless she turned off the supply for the latter. 
 
 For the first time her mind awakened to suspi 
 cions that something wrong was going on up the 
 canon. Setting a close watch on the sluice, she dis 
 covered that twice a day, morning and evening, the 
 water came down the conduit in a few uneven 
 spurts. During all the remainder of the twenty-four 
 hours not a drop flowed down. 
 
 What enemy was diverting from its appointed 
 course the life-giving stream which had so gener 
 ously nourished her pretty garden, and upon which
 
 82 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 she had herself depended for drink and refreshment ? 
 Who was interested in making the conditions of life 
 in these charming uplands untenable for her ? Who 
 would be directly benefited by causing her to aban 
 don the pretty home she had established ? 
 
 There was but one possible answer. 
 
 Who but Mr. Paul? 
 
 It was a dastardly act, but common report had 
 made her too familiar with such occurrences to re 
 gard it as anything exceptional or impossible. A 
 mile further along the hills two happy families had 
 that season been broken up, one man laid in a dis 
 honored grave, and another sent to the state peni 
 tentiary, as the result of a bitter wrangle over a 
 water right. Honor, character, human feeling, com 
 mon honesty, everything, seemed to go down in this 
 frantic struggle for the possession of the precious 
 fluid ; no one expressed surprise, and the cases in 
 which a malefactor was brought to justice, except 
 when deeds of open violence occurred, were rare. 
 
 Miss Judith sat down to think and to decide upon 
 her wisest course. At first she was disposed to send 
 down to the village and begin legal proceedings 
 against the offender, but she reflected in time that 
 if she should consult a lawyer, one of the first ques 
 tions put to her would in all probability be as to 
 the character of her title to the land and stream. 
 Another very uncomfortable recollection confronted 
 her. She remembered having heard her own sur 
 veyor remark that water rights on government land 
 were still in a very unsettled and unsatisfactory con 
 dition ; that it was yet a matter of discussion as to
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY 83 
 
 whether prescriptive rights did or did not apply in 
 such cases ; that, in short, nobody, not even the best 
 lawyer on the coast, was altogether sure about the 
 ramifications of water rights on unsurveyed or even 
 unpatented lands. 
 
 Mr. Paul might happen to be as wise as she in 
 regard to water laws. In fact, he might easily be a 
 good deal wiser, for Miss Judith had only the 
 vaguest idea of what a prescriptive right meant. 
 Never mind ! There were moral ethics away and 
 above all the legal codes ever framed, and no 
 right-minded person could resist an appeal to their 
 majesty. 
 
 It was a very agitated but very resolute little per 
 son that set the paper house to rights, fastened 
 doors and windows, descended the tree, and, with a 
 last look at the sluice, set off up the canon on a tour 
 of investigation. 
 
 Miss Judith determined to make this inspection a 
 thorough and searching one, proudly telling herself 
 that she was not a woman to come to any hasty con 
 clusions. She first went directly to the stream at 
 the point where the trail crossed it, and made the 
 significant discovery of one small pool of water, 
 while she found that the bed of the brook, above 
 and below this spot, was wet with recent moisture, 
 and plainly showed that within a short time a stream 
 of more or less magnitude had flowed along it. 
 
 Pursuing her investigations below this point, she 
 at last made the startling discovery that not a hun 
 dred yards below Mr. Paul's cabin the brook reap 
 peared, greatly diminished from its original proper-
 
 84 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 tions, it is true, but rippling along as demurely as if 
 it had never lent itself to the perpetration of wrong 
 or injustice. 
 
 " It has plainly been diverted from its course, and 
 returned to the stream bed at some point along 
 here," she decided. 
 
 Upon arriving at this conclusion, she carefully 
 retraced her steps, examining the banks closely on 
 either side, but could find no trace of the truant 
 stream's return except in the vicinity of a boulder 
 which it would have taken the strength of a Titan 
 to move, and where it seemed to her the first ap 
 pearance of a flow could be detected. Reaping no 
 thing but a pair of damp feet from this scrutiny, she 
 regained the trail, hot, disappointed, and indignant. 
 
 " It would have been so clear a case and such 
 unanswerable proof to have faced him with, if I 
 could only have found the stolen water coming back 
 to the brook, discovered the exact use he was putting 
 it to, and followed it up to the very point where 
 it is taken," she reasoned. 
 
 Mr. Paul's cabin had a deserted look, but she 
 went up to it and knocked boldly upon the door. 
 No one answered. Standing there on the pictur 
 esque little veranda, with its balustrade of rich-hued 
 manzanita boughs, she looked down upon the young 
 man's garden patch and noted its parched and 
 stunted appearance ; but this condition conveyed no 
 argument to her mind. 
 
 Beyond her lay an unknown land. She had never 
 penetrated farther up the gulch. It required some 
 courage to gather her skirts closely about her and to
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY 85 
 
 follow the trail, here narrowing to a mere thread and 
 piercing the heart of the chaparral. 
 
 There were strange rustles in the parching grasses 
 and tangled weeds. Squirrels, interrupted in their 
 quest for toothsome morsels, stood upright in the 
 brush, with tiny paws close hugging their spoil, 
 viewing her with curious, shining eyes, then leaped 
 down and rushed to underground nesting-places. 
 Fledgling songbirds, untaught the dangers of fa 
 miliar companionship with the human race, hovered 
 about her, only fluttering timidly ahead when she 
 softly put out her hand to stroke their fresh-hued 
 plumage. 
 
 Suddenly there was a terrible commotion at her 
 feet. A swarm of tiny brown birds, not unlike so 
 many soberly clad canaries, slipped away in all di 
 rections. She eagerly stooped to imprison one of 
 the pretty creatures in her hand, when a large bird, 
 with silvery plumage and dove-like head proudly 
 crested with nodding black plumes, tumbled to the 
 ground in her path, dragging a broken wing. 
 
 " Oh, who could have done such a cruel thing ! " 
 cried the girl, her mind intent upon wanton sports 
 men with wicked guns, as she attempted to succor 
 the poor, maimed creature ; but even as she stooped 
 tenderly over it, it whirred swiftly through the air 
 with unimpaired strength, alighting in a neighboring 
 tree. 
 
 Amazed and interested, Miss Judith waited, mo 
 tionless, and presently from the tree came a low, 
 melodious call. At its repetition all the ground 
 about her became suddenly alive with wee brown
 
 86 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 birdlings, frantically hastening, half flying, half 
 running, in the direction of the tree. 
 
 The mother quail's ruse had saved her young. 
 
 Scaly brown lizards, some of them rainbow-tinted, 
 flashed through the leaves, over the rocks, and 
 across the sand. With a tremor she remembered 
 that a more dangerous reptile, the cruel crotalus, 
 powerful and sinuous, with broad-fanged head, hid 
 his dingy checked shape near the ledges of this alti 
 tude at certain seasons of the year. But she pressed 
 on undaunted. 
 
 A little further, and she turned again into the 
 bed of the stream, now so dry that the crusted sand 
 broke beneath the pressure of her light foot. Here, 
 somewhat overgrown with brambles, was the head 
 of her sluice, and she beheld, for the first time, 
 the really excellent manner in which Orlando had 
 performed his task, constructing a low, but solid 
 dam of rock, brush, and sand, below which the ditch 
 that held the conduit broadened out in V-shape, to 
 receive the water. 
 
 The lady examined this closely. Here were at last 
 faint signs of moisture, probably from the morning 
 flow. The rocks alongside wore a damp look, as 
 if they had been recently sprinkled by the cool cur 
 rent flowing through the sluice. Yet, as far as her 
 eye could command the stream above, no water was 
 flowing. 
 
 By this time Miss Judith had evolved a very plain 
 theory. 
 
 Instead of taking the water out of the stream pre 
 cisely at the point where her sluice joined the latter,
 
 AN ALARMING DISCOVERY 87 
 
 Mr. Paul had evidently pursued a much more sen 
 sible course, and one less compromising to himself in 
 its aspect. He had ditched or piped the flow from 
 a point far above. This placed him in a very advan 
 tageous position, should he be called upon to defend 
 the legality of his act. Perhaps, although he was 
 without doubt morally responsible and well aware of 
 the existence of the sluice, he might not be legally 
 cognizant of it. Or dismal thought ! he might 
 be able to swear that he had begun to use the water 
 above that point at some time previous to her ap 
 propriation, perhaps in that far-away period when 
 he had first visited the land with " his friend the 
 surveyor," that mythical individual, whom she 
 detested without ever having seen. 
 
 This remarkable theory was confirmed by the fact 
 that the stream bed, which the trail now frequently 
 crossed and recrossed, continued dry, with scarcely 
 a trace of moisture. 
 
 As to why the young man should have occasion 
 ally turned the water into her sluice, thus still doling 
 out to her a small supply, the girl could not deter 
 mine. 
 
 Her attention was suddenly arrested by a steady 
 " Clink ! clink ! clink ! " coming from far up the 
 canon. She was growing very tired ; the heat, the 
 unaccustomed exertion, and the rugged path along 
 which she was climbing combined to overtax her 
 strength. This sound spurred her to fresh exertion. 
 
 Evidently the mysterious operations by which she 
 had been deprived of her righteous property were 
 still in active progress. Who could tell but that the
 
 88 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 same hands that had turned the water out of its 
 course were now building a stone aqueduct to convey 
 it altogether out of the canon, down into the valley, 
 where the precious fluid was now very nearly mea 
 sured by its weight in coin ? 
 
 With her eyes intent on the narrow defile through 
 which she was passing, she stumbled, slipped, and 
 stepped into a pool of water.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 A SUBTERRANEAN VOLLEY 
 
 WATER ! Abundant, flowing water, pouring over 
 a ledge above and escaping down the hillside, a 
 trickling stream, finding its way back into the bed of 
 the brook and forming the pool into which she had 
 slipped. It was queer-looking water, appearing to 
 hold in solution a mass of yellowish clay, but cool 
 and fresh, as she knew by the chill to which she had 
 treated her immersed foot. 
 
 She pressed on eagerly, noting with surprise that 
 as she progressed the water grew muddier, and was 
 not flowing through its regular channel. The canon 
 contracted here, and a frowning cliff, rising in the 
 middle distance, seemed to shut off the sunlight. 
 Near this cliff a well-trodden path, newly made, as 
 evidenced by the freshly cut brush lining it on either 
 side, departed abruptly from the trail, appearing to 
 climb a low, wooded spur, and then disappearing in 
 the direction of the cliff, while the old trail, stony 
 and worn, led off up a gulch which met the main 
 canon at right angles. The rhythmic sound of metal 
 striking upon stone came from the direction of this 
 new path. 
 
 A person gifted with less resources of wit than 
 Miss Judith might have been at a loss as to which 
 path to follow. Not so the young lady. She in-
 
 90 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 stantly decided that it would be perfectly useless to 
 take the old trail, which led away from what she 
 was convinced was the scene of the enemy's opera 
 tions. At the same time she did not deem it either 
 prudent or discreet to go directly to the spot, pre 
 senting herself without warning, and without the op 
 portunity of first ascertaining the exact state of the 
 case. She therefore resolved to skirt the hillside 
 at the right until she had reached the point where it 
 merged in the cliff, and thus to reconnoitre the field 
 before advancing upon the enemy's works. 
 
 Very noiselessly and stealthily she therefore 
 threaded her way along the light copse growing on 
 the stony hillside. The slope was moderate and 
 the growth meagre, interspersed with an occasional 
 stunted oak or clump of manzanita bushes, so that 
 she made easy progress, and was rejoiced to see that 
 she was steadily advancing upon the point she 
 wished to gain. 
 
 When stones and soil were at length replaced by 
 rugged rock, with only now and then a starveling 
 juniper or pine taking root where a bit of soil had 
 lodged, she found progress more difficult ; but, light 
 and sure of foot as a fawn, she persevered in her 
 perilous journey until a bend of the hill disclosed 
 her objective point, and she drew breath to find 
 herself holding to a clump of purple asters on a 
 dizzy perch, looking down over an almost perpen 
 dicular wall of rock into a little glen some forty feet 
 below. Miss Judith had no thought to give to her 
 own transient bodily peril. She had attained the 
 goal toward which she had been striving.
 
 A SUBTERRANEAN VOLLEY 91 
 
 She realized at once that she was looking down 
 upon the bed of the little stream whose course she 
 had been following, at a place where it emerged 
 from a lofty gateway, of which the cliff on which she 
 was standing formed one of the buttresses. Massive 
 steps hewn in the solid rock, and so coated with 
 lime that they presented the appearance of a majes 
 tic marble staircase, here formed the brook bed, and 
 in time of winter floods must have produced a beau 
 tiful cascade ; but now this staircase was almost dry, 
 save where a mere trickle of water wound along a 
 crevice at one side, and dripped over a fern-hung 
 cavity below. 
 
 After leaving this dazzling white stairway, the 
 course of the stream appeared to be completely 
 dammed by a newly constructed deposit of clay and 
 broken rock. This dam, beginning at a point on 
 the opposite side of the gulch, crossed it on a slant 
 ing line, which from her point of view seemed at 
 first to follow the bend of the canon, but a little 
 distance below appeared to solidly unite with the 
 near bank. The material of which this iniquitous 
 dam was constructed would seem to have been taken 
 from the opposite cliff, for on top of the dam she 
 saw a little open car, and back of this was a black 
 hole into which she could dimly see that some sort 
 of tramway ran. 
 
 But these things were not what most impressed 
 Miss Judith. 
 
 Out of this black hole a stream of water was run 
 ning, muddy, yellowish water like what she had seen 
 in the stream bed. Was Mr t Paul actually piercing
 
 92 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 this bluff to intercept and capture the water, rather 
 than permit it to flow through its accustomed chan 
 nel ? How deep and shameful a conspiracy against 
 her rights ! 
 
 While Miss Judith was perfectly sure of her con 
 clusions, she was not so certain of her premises. She 
 wisely decided to quietly view this interesting scene, 
 and to await developments. 
 
 She could still hear the peculiar clinking sound 
 that had attracted her attention far down the canon, 
 but although it seemed to come from the black hole 
 in the ledge across the way, and was therefore much 
 nearer her than when she first heard it, it now 
 sounded muffled and distant. This might possibly 
 be due, she thought, to her own change of position 
 and the intervention of the rocky mass below. 
 
 Save for this one mysterious sound it was now 
 very still in the canon. All the hills around her 
 were barren and rocky, with occasional scraggy trees 
 or bushes. Once she thought she saw a pair of 
 antlers raised from a distant copse. A blue jay flew 
 into a neighboring thorn-bush and eyed her medita 
 tively, evidently speculating as to what new and 
 strange manner of bird was clinging to the face of 
 the cliff, and presently began to taunt her with his 
 saucy cry. A tiny blue lizard crept out of a crevice 
 in the rock beside her and came directly toward her 
 hand. She snapped off one of the purple asters and 
 scratched his back with its stem, while he blinked 
 his queer little eyes at her in grateful acknowledg 
 ment. 
 
 There were voices down the canon, and she real-
 
 A SUBTERRANEAN VOLLEY 93 
 
 ized in vexation that travelers were coming up the 
 trail. Nearer and nearer they drew, till she saw two 
 figures riding horses and driving burros laden with 
 heavy packs. She recognized the two men. The 
 elder was an aged pioneer, who had the reputation 
 of being the first settler across the range. The 
 youth he had in tow was a young Englishman, 
 dressed in picturesque cowboy style, and with a car 
 tridge belt around his waist, trying to imagine him 
 self a full-blown desperado on the strength of his 
 recent acquisition of a small cattle range in the high 
 sierras. In a year or two he would be wiser. 
 
 The old man was acquainted with Mr. Paul, hav 
 ing frequently camped at his cabin for the night. 
 They stopped at the point where the path left the 
 trail. 
 
 " Now you just wait here," she heard the old 
 man say. " I 've a friend working over here, and 
 I want to see how he 's getting on." 
 
 He dismounted slowly and laboriously, and climbed 
 the low ridge separating them from the dam, while 
 his companion waited in aristocratic tolerance. 
 
 "Mr. Paul! Mr. Paul! How are you?" the 
 old man shouted, approaching the hole in the bluff. 
 
 " Coming ! " sounded a full voice from its depths. 
 
 The clinking stopped, and in a few moments Mr. 
 Paul came in sight, greeting the old man civilly. 
 
 " I only stopped a minute to see how you 're get 
 ting on," explained the aged pioneer. 
 
 Miss Judith, deliberately eavesdropping, learned 
 with helpless anger that these operations, of which 
 she had not the slightest inkling until her own en-
 
 94 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 terprise led her to discover them, must have been 
 generally known and frankly discussed. 
 
 "Making fair progress, as you see," said Mr. 
 Paul. " I took your advice and went in this side 
 instead of the other." 
 
 " How far you in ? " 
 
 " About fifty feet." 
 
 " What kind of rock ? " 
 
 " A little of all kinds, I should say," waving his 
 hand toward the dam on whose edge they were 
 standing. " Sandstone, a little shale and clay, but 
 for the most part this fine-grained blue rock you see 
 all around here." 
 
 The old man, miner and prospector of '49, stooped 
 and possessed himself of a fragment of the substance 
 indicated. 
 
 " Limestone ! " he said laconically. " Harder 'n 
 granite. Tough work getting it out, you bet you ! " 
 
 " Oh, I succeed in making about two inches a day," 
 returned Mr. Paul, and both men laughed. 
 
 " What 's your prospects ? " 
 
 " I 'm sure I have n't experience enough to 
 judge," returned the young man, plainly a little 
 restless over the time he was losing. " It 's slow 
 work." 
 
 " How much water you got ? " persisted the ques 
 tioner. 
 
 " I have n't measured it. A matter of an inch, I 
 fancy. But I 'm going to have it, if I go through 
 the range for it." 
 
 " That 's right. Stick to it. Land in this coun 
 try 's no good without water. Well, so long ! " and
 
 A SUBTERRANEAN VOLLEY 95 
 
 the old man departed, while Mr. Paul again disap 
 peared into the dark hole. 
 
 Not a word about her rights, or the wicked depri 
 vation to which she was being subjected, the injury 
 to her property, her blighted berries and parching 
 garden ! How hard-hearted men could be when it 
 came to matters of gain ! Miss Judith clenched her 
 hands in impotent rage. 
 
 The noise in the bowels of the bluff was resumed 
 for a little time, and then abruptly ceased. Mr. 
 Paul again came out, and going to a wooden box 
 standing in a cranny of the rocks and covered with 
 a gunny sack, took out some objects that looked like 
 three long wax candles and a coil of heavy cord. He 
 cut off a few feet of the latter, and, without lighting 
 a candle, again entered the hole and disappeared 
 from sight. Miss Judith concluded that the candle 
 by the light of which he had been working must 
 have gone out ; but she wondered very much that he 
 should take three at a time, and that he did not light 
 one before entering the dark passage. 
 
 Imagine her surprise, then, while she was gazing 
 mystified upon the scene, at seeing Mr. Paul, breath 
 less and hatless, come running out of the black hole 
 in the ledge, and, leaping off the dam and turning 
 upstream, advance directly towards the ledge upon 
 which she had so perilous a foothold. 
 
 What could be the matter ? Could he have un 
 earthed some serpents' nest in the course of his in 
 iquitous undertaking? Was the dark hole in the 
 ground the chosen lair of some wild beast which was 
 about to wreak vengeance upon him, or was he flee-
 
 96 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 ing from his own uneasy conscience, that haunting 
 Nemesis of evil-doers, which in the case of this 
 young rnan was somehow interwoven with the mystic 
 gloom of the black curtain ? What would follow ? 
 
 In cold-blooded curiosity she leaned forward to 
 see. Mr. Paul was quietly standing at the foot of 
 the cliff on which she was perched, one arm braced 
 against the rock. She could hear his quick, panting 
 breath, but his attitude told only of patient waiting, 
 while his eyes were fixed on the dark opening, from 
 which no pursuer had yet emerged. 
 
 The next instant there came a terrific detonation, 
 and the whole mountain-side seemed to tremble. 
 Miss Judith, dizzy and frightened, lost her balance, 
 and clutched wildly at the purple asters, which 
 were uprooted in her hand. 
 
 Mr. Paul heard a frightened little cry ring out 
 above his head, a bunch of purple asters fell at his 
 feet, and looking up, he saw the slight figure slip 
 ping down the mountain side upon the jagged rocks 
 below.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 MR. PAUL TO THE RESCUE 
 
 MR. PAUL took in the situation at a glance. The 
 sandstone, presenting an almost vertical wall and 
 offering no chance for so much as a hand-hold, made 
 it impossible for him to reach her from below. 
 
 " Try to hold on until I can run around and get 
 up above you and lower a rope ! " he called. 
 
 She had caught the thorny branch of a mountain 
 lilac, but the bough had bent like a willow, and was 
 slipping from her grasp. 
 
 " I can't. There 's nothing to hold to. I 'm 
 coming ! " 
 
 The young man sprang to catch her in his arms, 
 but only succeeded in partially breaking the force 
 of her fall. 
 
 " Are you hurt ? " he asked anxiously, seeing that 
 she reeled and would have fallen had it not been for 
 his supporting arm. 
 
 " I 'm alive ! " was the curt reply. 
 
 Miss Judith released herself, stood erect for a mo 
 ment, then dropped suddenly down, composing her 
 self as comfortably as she could upon a fallen slab 
 of sandstone. Her face was pale, but Mr. Paul's 
 was whiter. 
 
 " Thank God you 're not killed ! " he ejaculated, 
 mopping his forehead with a white handkerchief,
 
 98 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 whose fine texture repudiated the quality of its 
 laundrying. 
 
 " What were you up on that ledge for ? " he de 
 manded sternly. "Don't you know that you 
 narrowly escaped being killed, crushed on these 
 rocks, when you fell ? " 
 
 "I I 'd like to know what you 're doing to my 
 mountain ! " retorted the girl, trying to steady her 
 voice, and looking very forbidding and unapproach 
 able. 
 
 "It was a prodigious blast. That rock is like 
 adamant. I made up my mind I 'd rip it out if the 
 whole mountain had to go. Why did n't you let me 
 know you were up here ? How could I be expected 
 to know any one was about ? " 
 
 His reproachful tone, the absurd fact that this 
 interloper upon her own land should presume to 
 take her to task for having gone whither she pleased 
 over it, made the young lady hot with resentment. 
 
 " I think it was high time I should be about," she 
 replied with dignity. " I 'm making a tour of in 
 spection of my property. Will you have the good 
 ness to explain what you are doing ? " 
 
 " Doing ! Why, can't you see for yourself ? Don't 
 you understand? I 'm after water." 
 
 " I don't doubt it." 
 
 What scorn and rancor can be compressed into a 
 little tinkling laugh ! The man was aghast at the 
 words and the laugh and the fierce look that accom 
 panied them. 
 
 " I should think you might be satisfied with what 
 you have already taken," said Miss Judith.
 
 MR. PAUL TO THE RESCUE 99 
 
 " Already ! " 
 
 "Yes, already. My poor berries are parching 
 and drying up in the sun below. But there seems 
 to be no lack of water up here." 
 
 He was beginning to understand. 
 
 " And you think I have been deliberately robbing 
 you of your water, the water you sluiced down to 
 your berry patch ? " 
 
 She did not quite like the cold glint of his eye, 
 nor the measured way in which he spoke. He looked 
 dangerous. But she stood her ground sturdily. 
 
 " What else can I think, when my plants are dry, 
 and there is so much water so much and to spare 
 up here?" and she waved her hand toward the 
 stream that gurgled out of the black hole in the 
 rock, about which a cloud of smoke now hovered, 
 like a wreath of mist. 
 
 "And the brook below. In what condition did 
 you find it when you came up?" persisted her 
 inquisitor. 
 
 " Dry. Damp, but with no water standing, though 
 I found running water below your cabin," laying 
 a very noticeable stress on the word ' below.' " Of 
 course I don't know where you have taken the water, 
 or what you mean to do with it, but it stands to 
 reason " 
 
 She stopped, confused. It suddenly occurred to 
 her that her theory of Mr. Paul's crime did not 
 exactly conform to any course of reasoning she could 
 at that moment devise. 
 
 " Is your sluice dry all the time ? Have you had 
 no water in it at any time since the water failed ? "
 
 100 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 " Sometimes, in the morning and at night, a little 
 water comes down, just enough to water my chickens 
 and give me a trifle for indoor use. It amounts to 
 nothing for my berries. The miserable little allow 
 ance that you have permitted to flow would not be 
 as much to them as a single swallow to a person 
 dying of thirst." 
 
 "I'm sorry, Miss Judith, that I haven't been 
 able to make the ' miserable little allowance ' more 
 generous. It is quite plain to me that you are 
 not familiar with the summer habits of California 
 streams." 
 
 " I have lived in California all my life," she re 
 torted. 
 
 " Even that might not make you wise about the 
 sources and caprices of these treacherous streams, 
 which, when the surface-flow fails in a dry season, 
 sink and disappear and appear again in the most 
 puzzling fashion. If you had taken some pains to 
 examine the geological formation of the brook bed 
 as you came along, you would have found above 
 your sluice a shale formation, which is like a sieve 
 for holding water in the dry season." 
 
 " But the water that comes down nights and 
 mornings ? " persisted Miss Judith skeptically. 
 
 Mr. Paul would plainly have preferred not to 
 have this point pressed. 
 
 " After a hard day's work here in my tunnel," he 
 explained diffidently, " where I hope to develop 
 water enough to irrigate the whole of my tillable 
 land, including the section you are now occupying, 
 I find that to cany a dozen buckets down to the
 
 MR. PAUL TO THE RESCUE 101 
 
 sluice is about all the exertion I can afford, even for 
 the sake of my thriving berry patch." 
 
 Any feeling of gratitude arising from the dis 
 covery that she had been indebted to the personal 
 exertions of her enemy for every drop of water she 
 had received for a couple of weeks past was wholly 
 offset by this insolent assumption of proprietorship 
 over her cherished berry patch. 
 
 The lady gave an impatient gesture and turned her 
 head aside, indicating that this foolish persistence 
 in asserting his claim to her domain was a matter 
 wholly beneath discussion. 
 
 " And I must add," continued Mr. Paul, " that 
 this accusation comes with a singular grace from the 
 lady who, without an hour's warning, last fall appro 
 priated every drop of water in this stream, leaving 
 my stock and myself to perish for want of water, 
 for aught she cared." 
 
 This may seem an extravagant manner of stating 
 the case, but those who have lived in districts where 
 the water supply is insufficient, and who have wit 
 nessed the shocking consequences incident to its 
 deprivation, can appreciate the tragedy of its loss. 
 " As soon shut off a man's sunlight as his water ! " 
 is a common saying in these parts. 
 
 "Mr. Paul!" 
 
 Miss Judith faced him, her eyes ablaze, her voice 
 trembling with indignation. " How dare you make 
 such a statement ! How can you look me in the 
 eye, and accuse me of such an awful thing? " 
 
 " You certainly did it, and did n't hesitate to 
 avow it then," replied the young man, confounded
 
 102 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 by the girl's extraordinary outburst. "When I 
 went down to see you, hoping to arrive at some 
 compromise, for it was a serious dilemma for me, 
 I can assure you ! you disdained to discuss the 
 question at all, but frankly assumed the whole 
 responsibility of the affair. You declared your pro 
 prietorship to all the water in the stream, and vowed 
 you were going to water your fruit with it and take 
 the first prize on your berries at the county fair, or 
 something of the sort. I remember the substance 
 better than the exact verbiage." 
 
 " Do you mean to persuade me that when Orlando 
 turned the water into my little sluice, it took all the 
 water in that big, broad stream? " asked Miss Judith 
 caustically. 
 
 "It takes quite a big, broad stream, flowing 
 quietly along its bed, to fill a sluice with a capacity 
 of some half dozen inches and with a fall of one 
 foot in ten, to say nothing of the ditch along which 
 it was laid," replied Mr. Paul indifferently. " But 
 that 's all over and done with. I found a spring in 
 a gully a quarter of a mile away, where I contrived 
 to water my horse and obtain enough to carry me 
 along until the rains came. I did n't mean to get 
 caught again this season, however." 
 
 Miss Judith listened, with a knitted brow, convic 
 tion growing within her. 
 
 " That awful boy ! " she said. " It must have 
 been all planned out by Orlando." 
 
 " Oh, don't blame the boy. I did n't mean to stir 
 up any feeling by referring to what is all gone 
 by," said Mr. Paul pacifically.
 
 MR. PAUL TO THE RESCUE 103 
 
 " But it is n't gone by. It never will be gone by. 
 You will never believe that I did n't intend to do 
 it, that I did n't know all the water had been taken. 
 You will never credit that until this minute I 
 had n't the slightest idea of what you referred to 
 that day when you rode up to the house and ques 
 tioned me about my sluice." 
 
 Mr. Paul did not speak. His chill manner and 
 attitude were so expressive that the girl was 
 wounded to the quick. 
 
 " You did n't explain a single word," she went on 
 desperately. "You only asked if the water had 
 been taken from the stream by my instructions, 
 not ' all the water,' mind you ! You never said a 
 word about that. And I told you, truthfully, that 
 it had, wondering very much that you should come 
 and ask such questions, or begrudge me a small 
 share of such a splendid flow. And then you 
 asked what you were to understand by that, and 
 you spoke in such a very unpleasant way that I felt 
 quite justified in asserting my title over again to 
 the disputed territory and all there was in it." 
 
 Again there was silence between them ; and again 
 it was broken by Miss Judith, in a sad little voice. 
 
 " You may believe what you like," she said. " I 
 am sorry I have attempted to screen myself. If 
 honor and truth cannot stand without the poor 
 defense of words, one would better not lay claim to 
 them." 
 
 She started to rise and beat a dignified retreat, 
 but no sooner did she attempt to bear her weight 
 upon her feet than she turned very pale, and 
 dropped again to a sitting posture.
 
 104 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 It was odd what keen powers of observation Mr. 
 Paul possessed. He was listlessly leaning against 
 the ledge, despoiling one of a bunch of purple 
 asters of its petals, but this movement brought him 
 instantly to Miss Judith's side. 
 
 " What is the matter ? You have hurt your foot." 
 
 " It is nothing. A little twist as I slipped down. 
 It will be better in a moment. Do they know, 
 down in the valley, about the water?" as she 
 remembered the inquiry that had one day been put 
 to her in the village store, and the odd remarks that 
 had followed. 
 
 "I think Orlando took pains that they should 
 know," returned Mr. Paul. 
 
 " Oh, what must they think of me ? " 
 
 "From what I have heard, you are generally 
 considered a very smart woman, and I am supposed 
 to have only met my just deserts. Sympathy is 
 always with the woman in such a case. But about 
 the foot. These ' little twists ' are sometimes serious 
 things. I had a trifling hurt of the kind once while 
 climbing the Matterhorn, and paid for it with three 
 months' helplessness. May I help you to remove 
 the shoe?" 
 
 " I beg that you will leave me alone, Mr. Paul. 
 It does not concern you in the least." 
 
 She sat with the skirt of her blue serge gown 
 firmly drawn about her feet. The man could tell 
 by the manner in which she compressed her lips, 
 and by her alternate flushing and paling, that she 
 was suffering severe physical pain. 
 
 " It concerns me so much that I shall not leave
 
 MR. PAUL TO THE RESCUE 105 
 
 you until I have learned the extent of your injury," 
 he replied with decision. 
 
 "After doubting my word, and accusing me of 
 so base an act, Mr. Paul, how could you expect me 
 to accept any further service from you, even if I 
 were dying ? " 
 
 " Doubting your word ! Miss Judith, here I have 
 been standing for the past five minutes, denouncing 
 my own infernal stupidity in not having fully 
 explained the water situation to you that time ; at 
 having for a moment accredited you with such 
 vindictiveness. I 'm in sackcloth and ashes over 
 the whole affair. Are you going to punish me 
 further by making me responsible for the neglect of 
 your injured foot ? " 
 
 Honest contrition was in face and voice. She 
 viewed him for a moment, her head poised on one 
 side like a bird's, doubtful, questioning. Another 
 twinge brought a little grimace of pain to her face, 
 and decided her. 
 
 Meekly she put out the injured foot and attempted 
 to undo the shoe-lacings, leaning back in sudden 
 faintness and surrendering the task. Mr. Paul re 
 moved the coverings with a surgeon's deft and 
 indifferent touch. If he observed the faultless lines 
 of the little pink-tinted foot that was at length 
 bared, he betrayed no sentiment concerning it, but 
 manipulated the ankle with a cold-blooded interest 
 that seemed to the suffering girl little short of 
 savagery. 
 
 The foot hung very limp. 
 
 " Try to move it now," said Mr. Paul.
 
 106 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Miss Judith endeavored to obey him, but was 
 shocked to find that she no longer seemed to have 
 any control over joints or muscles. 
 
 Mr. Paul passed his fingers lightly along the 
 limb, pausing at a point some two inches above the 
 ankle joint, where an ugly ridge, marked with a 
 sullen red swelling, was conspicuous. 
 
 He looked grave as he concluded his examina 
 tion. 
 
 " I 'm afraid it 's broken," he said, easing it to 
 the ground with exceeding care. "Just what sort 
 of a fracture it is, or how serious, I cannot tell. 
 You must have surgical aid. Meantime the best I 
 can do is to apply a little water to check inflamma 
 tion." 
 
 He tore some strips from a piece of soft cloth 
 hanging at the mouth of the tunnel, and designed 
 for the ignoble purpose of swabbing out the holes 
 made by his drills, dipped these in the gurgling 
 stream, and skillfully bandaged the ankle, then 
 waited while she drew on her stocking. An attempt 
 to put on the shoe called forth an exclamation of 
 pain. 
 
 " I would n't draw anything tightly about it if I 
 were you," he said. " Are you ready ? Come ! " 
 
 Before she could protest, he had lifted her like a 
 child, and was carrying her down the trail, the 
 path that his own feet had worn, going to and from 
 the hard toil that he had undertaken for both their 
 sakes. She knew it now. There was no need for 
 him to tell her that with every blow of the pick and 
 hammer he had remembered her need, and thought
 
 MR. PAUL TO THE RESCUE 107 
 
 joyfully of the relief his work would bring her. 
 Upborne in these strong arms, held closely to his 
 breast, all pain seemed to leave the girl, and the 
 world's burdens slipped away. Was it fancy, or 
 did he for an instant press his dark bearded face 
 against her hair, whispering, 
 
 " Now that I have you a fast prisoner, my little 
 foewoman, I am minded never to let you go ! " 
 
 Like one in a happy, wordless dream, she 
 resigned herself to his care. The western hills 
 frowned darkly upon them, shutting out the glad 
 rays of the setting sun which glorified the topmost 
 peaks. Hidden creatures stirred in the copse around, 
 and a bird, daintily sipping a crystal draught from 
 the plashing water, soared into the air and thrilled 
 its song of thankfulness from a tree-top. 
 
 As they approached the cabin, Miss Judith noticed 
 that the young man's step, at first light and spring 
 ing, grew heavy and lagging, and she felt the heav 
 ing of his chest as he labored along the path. A 
 rustic chair stood on the veranda before his door, 
 and he placed her in it. As he rose, his watch-chain 
 became entangled in her clothing, and a small open 
 locket, worn as a charm, tumbled into her lap.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 MISS JUDITH FEELS THE INFLUENCE OF THE BLACK 
 CURTAIN 
 
 Miss JUDITH looked down upon the locket and 
 saw the face of a woman, a young, lovely face, with 
 a high serenity upon it, whose eyes seemed to look 
 into her own with a noble trustfulness. 
 
 He reached out his hand to reclaim it. 
 
 " The dearest woman in all the world ! " he said 
 with feeling. " Some day I hope you may know 
 her." 
 
 Miss Judith did not answer. She lay back in the 
 chair with closed eyes, trying to think, wondering 
 what this hurt was, which went so much deeper than 
 any mere physical pang. 
 
 " Is the ankle painful ? " asked the young man. 
 
 " Yes, oh, yes." 
 
 " It has seemed rather nice to be cut off from the 
 world, but now I wish we were united with it by a 
 telephone wire. As it is, it will be some little time 
 before you can have relief. Do you think you can 
 be patient ? " 
 
 " I am always patient," said Miss Judith, rebuking 
 him. . 
 
 " Well and good. Of course you will have to stay 
 here for the present," speaking very positively, and 
 drawing a long breath.
 
 INFLUENCE OF THE BLACK CURTAIN 109 
 
 " I cannot. I must go home this moment." 
 
 " How are you going to get any further ? " 
 
 A tart little tongue was about to accuse him of 
 taking a mean advantage of her helplessness, in thus 
 making her a prisoner, but reflection checked the 
 speech. 
 
 " I don't think you can walk," pursued her matter- 
 of-fact neighbor ; " and I am sure I cannot carry you 
 a step farther. When I picked you up, I thought 
 you no heavier than a feather, but now I am positive 
 you weigh a ton." 
 
 Mr. Paul laughed a deep, mellow laugh, good to 
 hear. 
 
 " That alters the case," she said wearily. 
 
 " This being the case," he went on, " we shall 
 have to make the best of circumstances." 
 
 " I suppose we shall," said the girl ruefully. 
 
 " I will make you as comfortable as I know 
 how " 
 
 Oh, I don't doubt it." 
 
 This was said impetuously, for pain was returning 
 to the ankle. Her host shrugged his shoulders with 
 a smile which she recalled later on, when she realized 
 the brusqueness of her speech. At the time she was 
 in silent revolt against being forced, even for a night, 
 to exchange the dainty comforts of her paper house 
 for the rude surroundings of a ranchman's cabin. 
 
 " But there are my dog and bird. The nights are 
 cold. He is delicate and the bird has to be covered. 
 And my cow and my chickens." 
 
 " First your ankle demands attention. I will ride 
 down to the Montrose place and telephone for Dr.
 
 110 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Graham. Then I will come back to your cottage, 
 and if you will not mind being left alone for a little 
 while, biding the surgeon's coming, I will cover the 
 bird, and feed the chickens, and milk the cow, I 
 think I see her in my cabbage patch now." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Paul, I am so sorry." 
 
 " Never mind ! They will not hurt her. She is 
 not unaccustomed to the diet." 
 
 With this parting shot Mr. Paul disappeared, soon 
 returning with the truant Sairy Ann, securing her 
 to a tree. 
 
 " I must look up my horse, now. He seems to 
 have strayed beyond limits, perhaps to take a repri 
 sal on your strawberry patch," said the young man 
 cheerfully. " But I must help you inside the cabin. 
 The nights are growing chill." 
 
 He opened the door, and lifted her chair over the 
 sill, placing it, as she could dimly see, beside a table. 
 Striking a match, he turned up the wick of a heavy 
 antique lamp of hammered brass. 
 
 " Let me lift your foot and place it on this chair. 
 Are you sure that is a comfortable position ? And 
 you may be cold before I return." 
 
 Bringing a thick traveling-robe, he wrapped its 
 fleecy folds around her, then stood looking down 
 upon her, silently challenging her to meet his gaze. 
 
 " Until I return, I make you mistress of all I pos 
 sess except what lies behind the black curtain ! " 
 he added, as if in sober afterthought. 
 
 She obstinately closed her eyes, opening them 
 again in shocked surprise as she felt a gentle touch 
 upon her forehead, but the door was closing behind
 
 INFLUENCE OF THE BLACK CURTAIN 111 
 
 her host, and she heard his firm step on the garden 
 path. * 
 
 Lying back in the easy-chair, Miss Judith again 
 wondered if she were in a dream. 
 
 She found herself, it is true, in the ranchman's 
 cabin of her fancy. The chinks between the rough- 
 hewn logs of the walls were plastered with clay, and 
 the big fireplace which yawned at the end of the 
 great room made no attempt to disguise its clumsy 
 structure of stone and adobe, and opened upon a 
 hearth of rough sandstone flags. But the furnish 
 ings of this rough abode were of Oriental magnifi 
 cence. 
 
 Rare tapestries hung on the walls, superb Turk 
 ish rugs were flung broadcast upon chairs and 
 couches, yellowed ivory carvings alternated with 
 rare bronzes and statuettes in the rude niches of the 
 fireplace. A flagon of old Venetian glass, pink and 
 white, wrought in the semblance of a rose-vine, stood 
 on a sideboard, with a cup and saucer of fragile 
 Sevres beside it. Throughout the room were count 
 less evidences of a refined taste and a free purse. 
 Was it the magic purse of Mr. Paul's fanciful tale ? 
 
 Although a certain quaint order was noticeable 
 throughout the apartment, things were put to strange 
 uses. A cloissone vase was degraded to a dust-brush 
 holder. A pair of well-worn slippers poised on either 
 shoulder of a bronze Chinese god, a jolly little figure, 
 with eyes that seemed to twinkle in the dim half- 
 light. A hammer and saw were hung on either arm 
 of an East Indian throne-chair, gorgeous in scarlet 
 and gilt ; before a door that opened into another
 
 112 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 room a Bengal tiger's skin formed a clumsy and 
 barbaric portiere. 
 
 Here and there an unframed etching or water- 
 color could be seen, and a dusty portfolio with 
 knotted strings leaned against the wall; but, with 
 all its wealth of ornament, the house was singularly 
 lacking in pictures. 
 
 A number of late magazines were scattered over 
 the table beside which he had placed her chair. She 
 took up one after another, and found each in the 
 same condition, with uncut pages, and bearing no 
 evidences of having been handled. Several late 
 novels were idly flung beside them, but she felt con 
 vinced that they, like the magazines, were unread, 
 for the leaves clung together like those of books 
 fresh from the press. In a pocket on the wall were 
 countless newspapers, some with their wrappers torn 
 off, but all lying in their original folds. 
 
 Upon the table stood a frame of carved silver, and 
 in it was a portrait. She took it in her hand. It 
 was an excellent specimen of the recently revived 
 art of daguerreotypy, and the subject was the woman 
 of the locket. 
 
 The lady was in evening-dress, clad in the extreme 
 of modern fashion, with a low bodice disclosing a 
 slender, columnar neck and shapely shoulders, full, 
 puffed sleeves falling over her rounded arms. One 
 slender white hand was lifted, the fingers resting 
 lightly against her cheek. 
 
 Miss Judith studied the picture long and closely. 
 
 The lustrous dark hair was brought low over the 
 thoughtful brow, half concealing the white temples
 
 INFLUENCE OF THE BLACK CURTAIN 113 
 
 and the tips of the pearly ears. A stately, intel 
 lectual woman, generosity and breadth indicated by 
 the noble forehead, a loving heart looking from the 
 tender eyes. She returned the picture to its place 
 with a sigh. 
 
 A peculiar whirr drew her attention to a small 
 clock of some carved wood, standing on the simple 
 shelf of redwood that served for a mantelpiece. As 
 she looked, two tiny doors flew open, a brown bird 
 hopped out, told off the hour in a succession of 
 liquid notes, hopped back into his niche, and the 
 doors swung after him. 
 
 Outside, in the gloom, a chorus of night birds 
 answered his greeting. She could distinguish the 
 mellow call of the California nightingale, and a blue 
 jay's harsh note of defiance. Following these there 
 came a piteous, thrilling refrain, as of some small 
 songster for whom existence was weighed down with 
 sorrow. After a while the nightingale relapsed into 
 silence, and the jay ceased his jeering cry, but the 
 small bird of sorrow flitted from tree to tree, repeat 
 ing his woeful lament. 
 
 The room was large, and its shadows deep. Her 
 eyes, growing accustomed to the semi-twilight that 
 reigned outside of the little circle of light encom 
 passing her, traveled to the farther side of the 
 room, and she saw, spanning the ceiling from wall to 
 wall, a massive dark wood carving of elaborate de 
 sign. Attached to this, the heavy folds of the black 
 curtain, sombre and sinister, hung to the floor. 
 
 " Mistress of all I possess, except what lies behind 
 the black curtain ! "
 
 114 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 This fantastic speech recurred to the girl again 
 and again. What was his meaning? What mys 
 tery, sorrow, or sin was concealed behind those 
 heavy folds ? 
 
 What was the secret of Mr. Paul's life ? What 
 strange circumstance or combination of circum 
 stances could have led this man of culture into soli 
 tary exile, to live by the labor of his own hands ? A 
 traveler, too, and a man of education, who might 
 easily have found a chair in some college or acad 
 emy, surrounded by congenial associations, had his 
 chosen business or calling failed him. 
 
 Was the beautiful woman of the portrait ac 
 quainted with the mystery ? Had she a part in it ? 
 Or could it be the curtain which was dividing these 
 two lives, apparently so dear to each other, and 
 shadowing two souls with hopeless sorrow ? 
 
 She tried to put these questions aside. She told 
 herself that she had no desire to fathom the mys 
 tery. Could she have drawn the curtain aside by 
 merely putting out her hand, she would not have 
 done it. 
 
 A careless movement caused the ankle to begin 
 paining her fiercely again. She changed her posi 
 tion, drawing about her shoulders the warm rug that 
 Mr. Paul's thoughtfulness had provided her. Pil 
 lowing her cheek on her hand, she looked around 
 her, and all the strange, weird furnishings seemed 
 to assume a sympathetic, friendly aspect. The room 
 was really a most restful, peaceful place. Its very 
 atmosphere was soothing. 
 
 How had it happened that such a foolish dream
 
 INFLUENCE OF THE BLACK CURTAIN 115 
 
 had overtaken her on the way down the canon ! Mr. 
 Paul had shown her precisely the same degree of 
 kindness and the same tender sympathy that he 
 would have exhibited towards a hurt child, and she 
 was sincerely grateful to him. She rejoiced in her 
 heart that instead of an enemy she had found in him 
 a stanch, true friend, a friend who had persisted in 
 kindness to her even when he had believed himself 
 suffering from a most atrocious injury at her hands. 
 A good, sensible friend. She asked nothing more. 
 And yet, what was that queer little ache, that sensa 
 tion of missing something dear and precious, the 
 loss of something that had never been ? 
 
 She was conscious of growing drowsy, and it 
 seemed to her that Mr. Paul had been gone a very 
 long time. A long time to lie alone and helpless, 
 with an aching ankle, in a strange house, and in that 
 weird room. 
 
 Her eyes wandered again to the black curtain. 
 She was dreaming again. Its folds were stirring, 
 stirring, and it was not the night wind that moved 
 them. An irresistible fascination drew her eyes to 
 the swaying drapery, and she was conscious that its 
 mystery was about to be solved. 
 
 It was a woman's hand a white, shapely hand, 
 whose counterpart she had seen in the portrait 
 that parted them, and while she waited, breathless 
 and panic-stricken, a tall, stately figure advanced 
 slowly into the room, her eyes fixed on Miss Judith's. 
 
 The girl was paralyzed with terror, and could 
 neither move nor cry out. The lady moved slowly 
 towards her, and at length stood beside her chair,
 
 116 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 looking down upon her with her eyes, gray and cold, 
 that seemed to scornfully inventory the timid suf 
 ferer, lingering on the slight, childish figure, the 
 tumbled hair, the features now blanched with fright 
 and pinched with pain. An ironical smile over 
 spread the stranger's face. 
 
 " No. One cannot lose what one never has pos 
 sessed. And you never have possessed it. Past nor 
 present, present nor future, you never shall possess 
 it. The black curtain, ay, the black curtain, cursing 
 every one that lives beneath its baleful shadow, shall 
 do its work." 
 
 Before Miss Judith could divine her intention, the 
 lady had swept with regal grace across the floor, and, 
 raising her bare white arms, gathered the mass of 
 drapery in them and tore it from its fastenings. A 
 portion of the time-stained carving to which it was 
 hung fell with a crash to the floor. She dragged 
 the black pall across the room, and with the same 
 cold smile on her lips began wrapping it about the 
 girl. Fold upon fold she laid over and about her, 
 while her victim struggled, voicelessly, to push it 
 away and to make her escape. Would Heaven never 
 remove this awful ban upon all her faculties ? Must 
 she submit, without a protest, to this grotesque 
 doom, to be smothered by this funereal drapery in 
 this dreadful woman's hands ? Like a child acquir 
 ing the art of speech, she began to brokenly shape 
 words, until at length voice and the power of articu 
 lation came back to her. 
 
 " The black curtain ! Help ! Oh, help ! I am 
 choking ! "
 
 INFLUENCE OF THE BLACK CURTAIN 117 
 
 But still the cruel hands bound the black stuff 
 closely about her, pinioning her arms so that she 
 could make no struggle. 
 
 " Mr. Paul ! Where are you? Save me, oh, save 
 me ! The black curtain ! Mr. Paul ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 OUT OF THE SHADOW 
 
 " YES, yes ! " said a soothing, strange voice. " We 
 will see to that by and by. Keep the foot very still 
 now, child, that we may place the bones precisely 
 in line." 
 
 She opened her eyes and encountered Mr. Paul's 
 look of compassion, and saw the gray head of a 
 stranger who was kneeling beside her. Upon her 
 foot, she felt a firm, practiced touch. Then a hand 
 seized the ankle above the fracture. She turned her 
 head, and was surprised to see that the black cur 
 tain was still in place. Was it imagination, or did 
 she see a white hand for an instant at its parting ? 
 
 " Do not move ! " admonished the voice. " Only 
 one instant now ! " 
 
 A harsh wrench of the limb, an awful pain, a 
 horrid crunching and grinding, as the bones slipped 
 into place. 
 
 " Here, Mr. Paul ! Your help, please. Hold this 
 splint here where I have placed it." 
 
 A bandage was wound around and around, and 
 securely fastened. 
 
 " You are to be congratulated, madam, upon this 
 nice, clean fracture, the thing a physician loves to 
 see. In a few weeks the bone will be as firmly knit 
 together as it ever was. If it had been a sprain,
 
 OUT OF THE SHADOW 119 
 
 now ! Sprains are often ugly things. You might 
 have been laid up for months. Only keep very 
 quiet for the present. She will remain here ? " ad 
 dressing Mr. Paul. 
 
 " Certainly. There is not the slightest occasion 
 for her to be moved," replied Mr. Paul pleasantly. 
 
 " But the black curtain, doctor ! " cried the girl 
 piteously. " I must go. I must go home to-night. 
 It smothers me. I am afraid of it. It suffocates 
 me." 
 
 " That is all right," declared the doctor sooth 
 ingly. " Take a drink of cold water, close your eyes, 
 and sleep." 
 
 The girl rejected the water. 
 
 " You don't understand, doctor. You did n't see. 
 I must get away from the curtain. It stifles me. I 
 cannot live in its shadow. Oh, I do not see how 
 you can endure it," turning to the young man. 
 
 " It is my fate," he said in a low voice that only 
 she heard. 
 
 The doctor laid his hand on her forehead, then 
 wisely drew from his pocket a tiny thermometer, and 
 placed it in her mouth. When several minutes had 
 elapsed he removed it and consulted its scale. 
 
 " Delirium ! " he whispered significantly to Mr. 
 Paul. " A slight inflammation attendant upon the 
 hurt, giving rise to a touch of fever. Still, the fancy 
 is so strong it may be well to indulge it." 
 
 " And will you carry me away from the curtain, 
 doctor ? I should die if I had to live beneath it." 
 
 "That is all right. You shall go," said the 
 doctor.
 
 120 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 " It is a very strange fancy," said Mr. Paul, in a 
 vexed tone, to the physician. 
 
 " It is certainly a very strange curtain ! " returned 
 the surgeon, surveying the curtain's dismal folds. 
 
 To Miss Judith's inexpressible relief the two men 
 carried her up to the paper house that night, the 
 doctor, who was the lighter of the two, supporting 
 her as she limped up her winding stairway, and she 
 awoke the next morning to the bright sunshine and 
 cheerful surroundings of her own little home in the 
 oak-tree.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 GOOD COMRADES 
 
 DURING the weeks of inaction that followed, Miss 
 Judith learned some salutary lessons, and a sincere 
 gratitude was the first of them. Always a spirited 
 little being, priding herself upon her absolute inde 
 pendence, the help which she required, and which 
 money could not have hired in that busy season of 
 the fruit harvest, came to her freely through the 
 impulse of neighborly sympathy. Mrs. Birdsall, 
 whose coarse manners and gossipy habit were so 
 distasteful to her that she had snubbed the good 
 lady by never returning her first call, shone out as 
 a rescuing angel in this emergency, showering upon 
 the girl examples of her really excellent cookery. 
 
 Other strait-laced and uninteresting women, vil 
 lagers' and farmers' wives, whose acquaintance she 
 had disdained, sent gifts of choice preserves and 
 jellies, and toiled up the steep road in clumsy con 
 veyances and behind sleepy farm horses, to fearfully 
 climb up to the cottage and lighten Miss Judith's 
 monotonous hours with kindly chat and solicitous 
 inquiries. Even the children, barefooted lads whose 
 faces were unfamiliar to her, neatly dressed little 
 boys and girls whom she dimly remembered as hav 
 ing greeted on farm gate or village street, came 
 eagerly to the mesa, bearing messages and tribute
 
 122 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 to the friendless young stranger, and expended their 
 individual zeal in enthusiastic war upon the weeds 
 and runners in her berry beds. 
 
 "I don't deserve it! " said the girl, in self-abase 
 ment. "They might have lain down and died, 
 every one, and I would have been none the wiser, 
 nor even have grieved to hear it." 
 
 She rendered secret atonement for her previous 
 indifference by exercising a gracious hospitality to 
 wards the older visitors, and captivating the younger 
 ones with charming tales of fairies and hobgoblins, 
 sometimes reading stories to them out of the few 
 books she possessed, adapting the language to their 
 youthful comprehension. 
 
 The village clergy, Protestant and Catholic, hon 
 ored her with sympathetic calls, the former urging 
 her to join his flock when she should have recovered 
 from her injury, while he of the brown cassock and 
 sandals said no word of his holy calling, nor ex 
 tended formal invitation to the church whose doors 
 are always open. 
 
 Throughout the entire period Mr. Paul was most 
 attentive, serving in all manner of ways. 
 
 "You are a veritable staff to lean upon in sea 
 sons of lameness ! " Miss Judith called to him one 
 day, as she watched him fill the gasoline tank on her 
 range, a task that she had been wondering how she 
 should accomplish. 
 
 " ' A staff unto my feet and a light unto my eyes, ' ' 
 gravely quoted the young man. "Some day, Miss 
 Judith, if I call upon you for the greater service, 
 will you grant it? "
 
 GOOD COMRADES 123 
 
 "If I can," she replied simply. 
 
 One feature of these weeks of confinement im 
 pressed Mr. Paul, while it puzzled him. 
 
 During Miss Judith's helplessness he had natu 
 rally undertaken to bring her mail from the railroad 
 village, to which he regularly went. He could not 
 help noticing the scant correspondence she seemed 
 to conduct. A few letters bearing the imprint of 
 nurseries or seed-houses, now and then one with the 
 stamp of a San Francisco tradesman, with perhaps 
 one or two personal letters throughout the entire 
 period, comprised the sum and substance of her 
 correspondence. Yet she never failed to meet him 
 with the same eager inquiry : 
 
 "Any letter for me, Mr. Paul? " 
 
 These appeals grew more and more anxious as 
 time went by, until he could almost imagine that 
 there was a note of entreaty in the gentle voice 
 which repeated the monotous inquiry : 
 
 "No letter for me to-day, Mr. Paul? " 
 
 He came to feel that his constant failure to bring 
 this looked-for letter was inflicting a grievous dis 
 appointment upon her ; there was an indefinable air 
 of brooding trouble about the girl, some hope or 
 resource was failing her. 
 
 "If it is a man, and he is trifling with or deceiv 
 ing that sweet little woman, I 'd like to know it 
 and him! " he said grimly to himself. 
 
 Time wore on, and the letter Miss Judith so anx 
 iously awaited did not come. After a time she 
 seemed to no longer expect it, and often waited 
 silently while he answered the questioning look in 
 her eyes.
 
 124 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Despite her straightforward manner and almost 
 childish candor, she was not one upon whose reserve 
 one would willingly intrude ; nor was Mr. Paul, who 
 had his own reserves, the one to probe the hidden 
 sorrow or to force an unwilling confidence. 
 
 "If she wishes to tell me, she will do so," he 
 thought. 
 
 Nevertheless he noted with genuine apprehension 
 the change that was taking place in Miss Judith, 
 her loss of color, the singular lassitude, for which 
 her injury was insufficient to account. Even when 
 he one day helped her down her winding stair, and 
 placed her in a hammock swung beneath the tree, 
 the diversion did not cheer her. 
 
 She looked dreamily away over the landscape to 
 where they could see a large coast steamer gliding 
 over the water under full steam, looking in the dis 
 tance like some fairy craft trailing a breath of mist. 
 
 "I wish I were in that steamer, going up to San 
 Francisco," remarked Miss Judith, with sudden 
 energy. 
 
 "You have not looked at your strawberry bed. 
 I 'm rather proud of the way it has flourished under 
 my stewardship. The water from the tunnel has 
 given it new life. The children have worked at it 
 like beavers, and I 've taken a hand with them now 
 and then. It 's so full of blooms you can't count 
 them, and before Christmas it ought to market a 
 superb crop of berries." 
 
 She moved her head ever so little, and sent an 
 indifferent glance in the direction of the berry 
 patch.
 
 GOOD COMRADES 125 
 
 "I 'm very much obliged to you, I 'm sure. But 
 I believe I hate strawberries," she said. 
 
 "They are rather a back-breaking occupation," 
 rejoined the young man apologetically. "Raspber 
 ries are different. They are ripening in consider 
 able quantities now, late in the season as it is. 
 Next week you will certainly have a generous yield 
 for your table. That bovine racer of yours is dry 
 ing up altogether too soon for a cow at her second 
 milking, but she can certainly supply enough cream 
 for the berries, and raspberries and cream are a 
 dish for the gods! " 
 
 "The gods may have them, for all I care," re 
 turned the girl absently. " Oh, I beg your pardon, 
 Mr. Paul. I did not know what I was saying. It 
 was because I was thinking." 
 
 Mr. Paul looked down upon the earth, and in 
 imagination ground that unknown recreant corre 
 spondent under his heel. 
 
 When Miss Judith was given a pair of crutches, 
 and undertook to learn their use, she perceptibly 
 brightened, for, provided even with this awkward 
 means of locomotion, she was enabled to find occu 
 pation which created diversion for the troubled 
 mind. Still it was evident that her thoughts were 
 often far away, and the wish that she had openly 
 expressed he fancied that he could often read in her 
 face. 
 
 It occurred to him that the hope he had formed 
 in the early days of his acquaintance with the little 
 lady was in a fair way of realization. The tide had 
 turned. Miss Judith was growing disenchanted
 
 126 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 with the charms of a rural existence. One of these 
 days, probably at a time now near at hand, she 
 would be ready to listen to a reasonable proposition 
 for a compromise. He would allow her a generous 
 compensation for her improvements, and thus secure 
 undisputed possession of the land; then he would 
 help her to pack up the pretty furnishings of the 
 paper cottage, and take her down to the station, 
 there to pronounce a friendly farewell, and he would 
 return to enjoy peaceful and undivided occupation 
 of the coveted territory. 
 
 Somehow this prospect did not appear as enchant 
 ing as it once had seemed to Mr. Paul. 
 
 Miss Judith, who enjoyed ample time for reflec 
 tion during her enforced idleness, reviewed all the 
 events of the past year, together with Mr. Paul's 
 every act. 
 
 "I did him what must have seemed considering 
 his remarkable faith in the justice of his claim to 
 the land the most shameful wrong, and when he 
 spoke to me about it, I appeared to vaunt it and 
 glory in it ! If the situation had been reversed 
 Well, I know very well what I felt the day that I 
 climbed the trail, believing he had deprived me of 
 my water supply ! Yet all the time he never retali 
 ated with a single discourteous word or act. And 
 when I so ungenerously accused him of what I my 
 self had actually done, and forced an explanation 
 of that wretched affair, he not only accepted my 
 word, but took upon himself the entire blame of the 
 misunderstanding. And after that " 
 
 But here there always occurred a gap in Miss
 
 GOOD COMRADES 127 
 
 Judith's reminiscences. Out of her life she had 
 deliberately dropped a single hour, and when a man 
 or woman intentionally drops from life any period, 
 long or short, you may know that it must be weighty 
 with meaning. 
 
 Out of all these reflections had grown a most 
 magnanimous resolve, and it was this that Miss 
 Judith was conning, some eight weeks after her 
 accident, as she flitted busily about the cottage, pre 
 paring a meal that was to celebrate two events of 
 importance to the people most concerned. 
 
 With the doctor's permission, she had that morn 
 ing discarded her crutches, and was feeling a won 
 derful exhilaration at being, as she phrased it, an 
 "able-bodied person " once more, when Mr. Paul had 
 stopped, on his way to town, to congratulate her. 
 
 "It is a notable day to me, as well," he had said 
 genially. "I turned my thirty-fifth milestone this 
 morning, and began to go downhill to-day. Wit 
 ness these white hairs!" and he lifted his hat in 
 mock solemnity. 
 
 The young man could afford to jest about marks 
 of age. His abundant brown hair was glossy as a 
 boy's, and as yet was not threaded by so much as 
 a single gray hair, while his face, despite the sober 
 look it habitually wore, was free from lines and 
 instinct with the vigor of youth. 
 
 "No man begins to go downhill at thirty -five," 
 contended the girl. "A woman may, at thirty, but 
 a man's way lies uphill until he reaches fifty, and 
 even beyond. Some of our greatest statesmen have 
 done their best work after sixty."
 
 128 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "The best possibilities of life closed to me a year 
 ago," returned the young man gloomily. "It was 
 then I drew the last coin from my purse." 
 
 "There is no last coin in the purse of a man 
 young and vigorous," asserted Miss Judith with 
 warmth. "A young man's resources are inexhaust 
 ible. If one thing fails him, he should turn to 
 another." 
 
 "So I have to cabbages! " retorted Mr. Paul. 
 
 "And Sairy Ann spoiled the cabbage patch!" 
 cried the girl compassionately. "Mr. Paul, I owe 
 you a birthday dinner for those cabbages. It shall 
 be ready when you come back." 
 
 The young man's face brightened as he lifted his 
 hat and passed on. During her long helplessness 
 his little neighbor had been a veritable will-o'-the- 
 wisp in moods, now receiving him in the most cor 
 dial, sisterly fashion, now puzzling him with her 
 gay humor, and again retreating to an immeasura 
 ble distance. To-day she had returned to a frank 
 comradeship. 
 
 Miss Judith had everything ready for that fin 
 ishing process known as "taking up," when the 
 unaccustomed sound of wheels drew her to the 
 door. Mr. Paul had gone away on the sorrel mare's 
 back. He returned driving the animal in a neat 
 little hammock cart, the saddle at his feet. 
 
 " I concluded to make myself a birthday present, 
 Miss Judith," he explained, springing from the 
 cart. " I shall have to ask the privilege of taking 
 my horse out of harness here, until I have a better 
 road to my cabin. Perhaps you '11 do me the favor
 
 GOOD COMRADES 129 
 
 to use it occasionally in return. The mare needs 
 driving, to keep her spirits down." 
 
 His neighbor returned an embarrassed reply. The 
 fact that she had long felt the need of some con 
 veyance made her shy of accepting this offer. But 
 she came cautiously down the steps, and admired 
 the cart's graceful lines and ingenious construction. 
 
 "A cart is the proper vehicle for these hill roads," 
 remarked Mr. Paul, as he unbuckled the harness, 
 while the girl caressed the pretty mare after the 
 foolish fashion of women. "No danger in turning 
 around, you see. It revolves on a pivot." 
 
 Did the young man remember the day when she 
 had confessed to him that she was a cowardly driver, 
 always afraid of upsetting a conveyance in turning 
 around ? 
 
 "Miss Judith, you are a genius! " exclaimed Mr. 
 Paul as they sat down to the small mahogany 
 table, which, with both wings spread, would have 
 groaned under the weight of the delicacies it held, 
 could it have found voice. 
 
 "It is a very sad thing to be a genius," responded 
 the girl demurely. 
 
 "In some lines, yes. But a gifted cook is always 
 to be envied," persisted her guest. "And any one 
 who can evolve a spread like this, away from mar 
 kets, and with " 
 
 "A paucity of material?" supplied the hostess. 
 
 "As regards variety, yes. There is no poverty 
 of quantity. I used to count myself a fair moun 
 tain and camp cook. But give a man flour, sugar, 
 yeast-powder, milk, eggs, and he can compose one 
 solitary dish "
 
 130 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "Flapjacks?" 
 
 "Yes, flapjacks, and flapjacks alone. Whereas 
 a woman, given the same material " 
 
 " Gems, muffins, pop-overs, biscuit, butter wafers, 
 waffles, cookies, doughnuts, omelettes, puddings in 
 infinite variety, a dozen kinds of cake ! " called off 
 his hostess, pausing, out of breath. 
 
 "After this list, I bow my diminished head." 
 
 "Oh, that is a mere nothing. Given so many 
 ingredients, with all the different methods of cook 
 ing, and there is scarcely any limit to the changes 
 one can play. The real art is to play these changes 
 upon but one ingredient." 
 
 "Only one ingredient! Oh, you couldn't do 
 that unless you were a magician." 
 
 "Yes, you could. With potatoes, for instance. 
 There need be little suffering among the poor of 
 our large cities, if all the housewives would learn 
 the wonderful variety of really tempting dishes that 
 can be prepared from this one cheapest of vegeta 
 bles. A celebrated cook claims that he can cook 
 potatoes in a hundred different ways. No woman 
 is fit to be a poor man's wife until she has learned 
 at least twenty -five. Of course it 's highly improper 
 to make eating the chief end of life, but the fact 
 remains that nine tenths of the misery among the 
 poor sickness, dissension, discontent is caused 
 by ignorant or unskillful preparation of the cheap 
 foodstuffs at their command." 
 
 "You're turning social economist, Miss Judith." 
 
 "On a very limited scale. I know little of wages 
 
 and profits, and nothing at all of basic principles.
 
 GOOD COMRADES 131 
 
 It 's the homely, woman's share of the question that 
 appeals to me." 
 
 "I 'm not sure but it 's the most important part," 
 said the man thoughtfully. "Once get the Home 
 I speak the word with a capital letter, for it 
 always seems to me the most important factor in 
 society or government get the Home properly 
 organized everywhere " 
 
 "And the little children properly started," put 
 in Miss Judith. Her voice was very soft and sweet. 
 " There is the chief mistake, making the wrong 
 beginnings. The world is always mending mistakes, 
 but that early mistake is the one that can never be 
 mended." 
 
 She spoke with deep feeling. There were tears 
 in her hazel eyes as she looked up. 
 
 "We have to accept conditions as they are," said 
 Mr. Paul soberly. "The wrong beginnings will be 
 made, and the best that people can do is to mend, 
 and to patiently keep on mending." 
 
 No complexity of courses burdened this appetizing 
 repast. Its crowning glory was a huge birthday 
 cake, adorned with frosting quilled over it in a 
 fancy design, the hollows filled with cubes of ruby- 
 colored jelly. 
 
 "If I could have found some little colored can 
 dies, I would have spelled your name upon the cake 
 in genuine schoolboy style," explained his hostess. 
 "This is a sorry substitute." 
 
 "It is gorgeous!" cried Mr. Paul, with a mock 
 obeisance. " So imposing that I am afraid to cut 
 it for fear of spoiling the pattern."
 
 132 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "Let me do it," proposed Miss Judith, poising 
 the knife gracefully above it. " Oh, I am forget- 
 ting." 
 
 She laid down the knife and pushed towards him 
 a tulip-shaped silver cup, filled with something that 
 he took to be powdered sugar, and was about to 
 empty in the cup of fragrant tea which steamed at 
 his elbow. 
 
 "No, no! " she protested. "That is the test. If 
 we are to be friends hereafter, you must take a 
 pinch of salt; if enemies, spill it on the table." 
 
 He held the dish in his hand as if debating with 
 himself, tilted it dangerously to one side, then set 
 it down, took a pinch between his thumb and finger, 
 and tasted it with a grimace. 
 
 "That settles it," said Miss Judith, who evidently 
 attached much importance to this ceremony. "Now 
 you may have your cake, and while you are eating 
 it I have a proposition to make." 
 
 The young man meekly accepted a generous slab 
 of the ornamental edifice before him, and awaited 
 her communication. 
 
 "Now it is all nonsense for us to be quarreling 
 over this land," began Miss Judith. 
 
 "She's going to offer to abdicate!" said Mr. 
 Paul to himself, with a strange sinking of the heart. 
 Aloud he only remarked : 
 
 "So you are getting tired of the country, Miss 
 Judith?" 
 
 "Tired of the country! Who says I am tired of 
 the country?" 
 
 "I couldn't help noticing," said the young man
 
 GOOD COMRADES 133 
 
 resignedly, "that your enthusiasm appeared to have 
 died out. You don't seem to care for the berry 
 patch any longer. You haven't asked for a necro- 
 logical report upon your young chickens since they 
 have been intrusted to my care." 
 
 "A what kind of report?" she asked, with a 
 puzzled face. 
 
 "Necrological. Perhaps I should use simpler 
 language, and say a mortuary list. I 'm ready for 
 you. I 've been arming myself with poultry statis 
 tics, in anticipation of this moment, and am ready 
 to prove that the average mortality of chickens of 
 a tender age is usually thirty per cent. I 've only 
 lost forty -five per cent., and I put it to your sense of 
 fairness if that isn't a good showing for an amateur 
 with no pretensions whatever in the poultry line. 
 However, I '11 consider these losses when it comes to 
 making you an actual offer." 
 
 He was going on recklessly, warding off the an 
 nouncement that he felt sure she was about to 
 make, and lo ! he had himself blundered into anti 
 cipating it. 
 
 "An offer? Explain yourself, sir! An offer of 
 what? " 
 
 "For your stock and improvements, in case you 
 want to sell out and go away." 
 
 He did not look like a very eager buyer, but the 
 lady did not take his appearance into account. 
 
 "Why should you suppose that I want to go 
 away?" she queried. "Are you so anxious to get 
 rid of me, Mr. Paul?" 
 
 "Now, Miss Judith, what else could I suppose,
 
 134 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 from the way you opened out on me? Is it possible 
 that I have been mistaking your sentiments, and 
 that you are not going to declare that you detest 
 the country?" 
 
 Somehow a great load had dropped from Mr. 
 Paul's mind. 
 
 "Detest the country! I love it, love it more 
 than ever. I do not think I could bear to go away, 
 could endure any other life. If it had not been 
 for this reposeful existence, I could never have sur 
 vived the past four weeks." 
 
 For an instant she seemed lost in sad thought; 
 then she rallied and looked up brightly. 
 
 "But you don't ask me what I was going to 
 propose ! " 
 
 "I am waiting for you to explain yourself." . * 
 
 "Mr. Paul, some day, if we live long enough, 
 this land will be surveyed, and one or the other of 
 us will be compelled to enter it, or lose all chance 
 to secure it." 
 
 Mr. Paul assented. 
 
 " If you enter it, I shall certainly contest. If I 
 enter it, of course you have been very polite and 
 kind to me, but I don't think you have any more 
 intention of giving up than I have." 
 
 "Certainly not!" 
 
 "Such a contest would be expensive, and exas 
 perating to us both. I have thought of a way out 
 of it." 
 
 "And what is this marvelous solution of the 
 vexed problem ? " 
 
 "It is this. Being squatters upon unsurveyed
 
 GOOD COMRADES 135 
 
 public lands, we are entitled to enter three hundred 
 and twenty acres. I have been reading up the law. 
 We will divide the land. You can enter a hundred 
 and sixty acres, and I will enter a hundred and 
 sixty." 
 
 Mr. Paul deliberated. 
 
 "I decline to compromise. I will have all or 
 nothing," he said at length. 
 
 "Then you prefer war? " 
 
 " On the contrary, I prefer peace. But peace on 
 my own terms." 
 
 "And what may they be? " asked the girl coldly. 
 
 Mr. Paul looked searchingly at her. She re 
 turned his gaze with the utmost calmness. He 
 looked away. 
 
 "Some day I may tell you. Not now." 
 
 "Oh, how vexatious you are!" she exclaimed, 
 rising from the little table and attempting to trun 
 dle the tall screen before it. " If I had a temper " 
 
 He sprang to help her. 
 
 "How very fortunate that you have not! But 
 you were saying " he innocently queried. 
 
 "Oh, if I had a temper (which you know very 
 well that I have not, Mr. Paul), I should be very 
 angry." 
 
 "If it would be any relief for you to box my 
 ears " he amiably suggested. 
 
 "Oh, if you choose to make light of it." 
 
 "On the contrary, it is a serious matter to me." 
 
 The girl eyed him curiously. 
 
 "One would never think you were so sordid," 
 she said, with a sigh.
 
 136 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "I am not sordid, I am only avaricious. There 
 is a vast difference between the two terms," insisted 
 the young man. 
 
 " ' Strange such a difference should be 'twixt 
 tweedledum and tweedledee! ' " quoted the girl mis 
 chievously. 
 
 "You are trying to exasperate me, and after salt 
 ing down our friendship ; but I warn you, I shall 
 not quarrel," said Mr. Paul magnanimously. 
 
 "What a martyr he is!" remarked Miss Judith 
 to her bird.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A LETTER 
 
 "FOR the present let us be content with matters 
 as they are. Sufficient unto the day is the happi 
 ness thereof! " 
 
 Miss Judith smiled at this boyish speech. She 
 had settled back into her easy-chair, looking very 
 content. 
 
 The sun was setting, and through the open win 
 dow came the low of cattle from the distant salt 
 grass meadows bordering the tide -lands. 
 
 Mr. Paul crossed the room and stood where he 
 could see the rosy glow in the western sky reflected 
 in the sloughs of the salt marshes. He glanced 
 at Miss Judith. She had lain back, and with closed 
 eyes appeared a part of the harmonious, peaceful 
 scene. 
 
 The young man drew from his pocket a reed-like 
 instrument, handling it caressingly, like some living 
 creature that he knew and loved. He placed it to 
 his lips. A succession of round, full notes, like the 
 soft warble of a bird, seemed to float away and lose 
 themselves in the stillness. Then the exquisite 
 melody of "Home, Sweet Home" rose upon the air. 
 
 At the first note Miss Judith had stirred, but 
 her eyelids dropped again, and the player fancied 
 that she slept.
 
 138 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Once, twice, thrice, he repeated the air, until a 
 listener might almost have fancied that he heard 
 the words of the song, tender, sweet, thrilling with 
 feeling, blending with the air. 
 
 And now the player took the instrument from his 
 lips and looked out into the gathering gloom. The 
 light in the west had faded from crimson to sullen 
 purple, the valley was lost in shadow, night crea 
 tures were astir, a bat brushed his loathsome form 
 against the window screen. 
 
 Again he raised the reed to his lips, and this 
 time the aria from "Norma" thrilled the night air 
 with its sad, sweet melody. 
 
 At the first notes the look of sweet content van 
 ished from the girl's face, being replaced with an 
 expression of distress. She put out her hands in 
 passionate protest, as if the melody were torture 
 beyond endurance. 
 
 "Oh, I beg of you, Mr. Paul, stop! I cannot 
 bear it. Do not spoil it all with that." 
 
 Mr. Paul did not consider himself a virtuoso by 
 any means, but he ranked among his friends as far 
 from an indifferent flute-player. A chance oppor 
 tunity for study abroad under one of the first masters 
 of the instrument, and years of subsequent practice, 
 he reflected, should certainly give a man a degree of 
 proficiency which ought to preserve his music from 
 being a positive infliction, as Miss Judith seemed 
 to regard it. He removed the instrument from his 
 lips. 
 
 " I beg your pardon. I did not know my playing 
 was so offensive," he said coldly.
 
 A LETTER 139 
 
 "It is not that, but the music itself! I cannot 
 bear it. I wish I might never hear another note in 
 all my life." 
 
 Her guest made no answer to this tempestuous 
 outburst, but reflected that here was a curious and, 
 so far as his experience went, a wholly original 
 trait of character. He had known young ladies 
 who could not tell one tune from another, and who 
 were wholly lacking in that fine sensitiveness to 
 melody which alone makes the appreciative musi 
 cian, to nevertheless declare that they adored music. 
 To detest the art in the abstract was a novel affec 
 tation. Yet she seemed very much in earnest, and 
 he could see, in the failing light, that the face she 
 turned back into the room was downcast and dis 
 tressed, as if she were repenting her confession. 
 
 "I should have consulted your wishes before I 
 began to play," he said a little stiffly. "To tell 
 the truth, I was not aware that any one lived who 
 actually disliked music." 
 
 "We are all differently constituted, and I sup 
 pose all have our peculiarities," replied Miss Ju 
 dith shortly. 
 
 This explanation satisfied Mr. Paul. He con 
 cluded that this singular idiosyncrasy was some 
 hereditary affection, and might account in part for 
 the melancholy which occasionally replaced this lit 
 tle person's customary cheerfulness. He had read 
 of an abnormal sensitiveness to sound, which con 
 stituted one of the earlier phases of a disease that 
 left total deafness as its result. Whatever the 
 cause or character of this peculiarity, it was cer-
 
 140 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 tainly a great misfortune. Although himself pre 
 tending to little skill in and less knowledge of the 
 art, he was a fervent lover of music, and found in 
 it a sweet solace for grinding care. He could 
 scarcely conceive what it would be to be lacking in 
 all appreciation of melody, as we can with difficulty 
 realize the deprivations of the blind and deaf and 
 speechless. How it must diminish one's resources, 
 shut off one of the sweetest joys of existence ! 
 
 He sincerely pitied the little woman, who by this 
 confession seemed to have been removed to another 
 sphere of life. His manner was exceptionally kind 
 as he rose to go, insisting upon lighting her lamp 
 and performing other slight offices that might save 
 her exertion. On parting he asked after her ankle 
 with extreme solicitude. 
 
 "You are sure that you are not overtaxing it? 
 You know you must be very cautious for a time, if 
 you wish to have it absolutely sound again." 
 
 "Oh, the ankle is all right!" she said, a little 
 impatiently. "But Mr. Paul you did not find 
 any letter for me in the post to-day? " 
 
 "Bless my soul, Miss Judith! You made the 
 afternoon so pleasant that I actually forgot ! " ex 
 claimed the young man contritely, this time draw 
 ing from his pocket a bulky envelope, addressed in 
 a man's bold hand. 
 
 The girl hurried to the light and eagerly exam 
 ined the superscription, then tore it open and began 
 to read. She ran her eye quickly down the first 
 page, and gave a low cry. Mr. Paul was only just 
 in time to catch her as she fell fainting to the floor.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 MISS JUDITH'S DISAPPEARANCE 
 
 WHEN a song-bird refuses to eat or sing, and 
 spends the entire day moping in the bottom of his 
 cage, gloom will often settle over an entire house 
 hold. To Mr. Paul the sun shone less brightly 
 upon the Vernal Hills, and nothing was in accord 
 in all the charming landscape, when his blithe little 
 neighbor, upon the receipt of this mysterious letter, 
 drooped and lost her gay spirits, and no longer 
 seemed to take any interest in life. 
 
 Her strength was slowly coming back, but her 
 mood did not change for the better. Although she 
 went patiently about her daily tasks, there was a 
 pathetic shadow on the sweet young face, and a tired 
 droop to her shoulders, as if they bent to the weight 
 of an unseen burden. 
 
 Miss Judith did not often look at the photograph 
 in her cabinet now. When she did, it was on her 
 bended knees. 
 
 In his innocence of soul, Mr. Paul one day at 
 tempted to counsel her. 
 
 "Why don't you get a woman to come up and 
 stay with you awhile, Miss Judith? I don't mean 
 a regular servant girl, but some lady who would 
 enjoy the hill air, a sewing-woman out of employ 
 ment, or a teacher who is taking a vacation ? Some-
 
 142 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 body who would share your cares, and be sympa 
 thetic, and lend you companionship?" 
 
 "A woman ! And woman's sympathy ! " she cried 
 disdainfully. "That is one of the very things I 
 came up here to avoid. When one is not well, or 
 worried, it is unbearable to be persecuted with the 
 average woman's sympathy. She always wants to 
 probe the innermost recesses of your heart, and 
 drag out to the light what you have not acknow 
 ledged to your own soul. And she has her own 
 infallible prescription, moral or physical, for every 
 ail, and watches you like a hawk to see that you 
 take it. Oh, preserve me from the average wo 
 man's companionship or sympathy, Mr. Paul! " 
 
 Despite this impulsive outburst, Miss Judith was 
 by no means lacking in tender feeling towards her 
 sex. One day Mr. Paul, returning from town, 
 brought intelligence of a distressing case of sickness 
 and destitution. 
 
 The children of a poor Mexican family, a mile 
 or so away in the hills, had been taken sick with a 
 malignant disease. The mother, in delicate health, 
 was too feeble and too ignorant to do aught but dose 
 the young sufferers with all manner of herb teas, 
 concocted from native herbs and shrubs. The fa 
 ther, shiftless and improvident, had gone on a wild 
 debauch when he found that his little brood was 
 in danger of being swept away, and merciful author 
 ity had accorded him quarters in the county jail. 
 
 Tidings of their extremity had reached the valley, 
 and provisions and clothing had been showered upon 
 the needy family with indiscriminate liberality.
 
 MISS JUDITH'S DISAPPEARANCE 143 
 
 The physicians of the place courteously contended 
 with each other to render professional service, finally 
 conceding this doubtful privilege to the most modest 
 and hardest-worked of all their number, old Doctor 
 Graham. The one thing most needed, personal care 
 and attention, no volunteer stepped forth to render. 
 There was no leisure class in the valley, and all of 
 the women were engrossed in their own cares. Had 
 there been one who could have been spared, she 
 would have debated long with herself as to whether, 
 for her own and her family's sake, she would do 
 right to expose herself to the contagion. 
 
 Miss Judith listened attentively to this account, 
 but made no remark. 
 
 "A hard case, isn't it?" asked Mr. Paul, on 
 concluding. 
 
 "Where did you say they lived? " questioned the 
 girl carelessly. 
 
 The young man was nettled at her unwomanly 
 apathy. 
 
 "In that tumble-down adobe on the line of the 
 old toll-road," he said. "Beyond the oak grove on 
 that hill," pointing to where a solemn line of oaks 
 stood like soldiers drawn up on parade, against the 
 afternoon sky. 
 
 "I should think they were quite off the line of 
 travel," remarked Miss Judith listlessly. 
 
 "Yes, the road was abandoned years ago, and is 
 barred now by half a dozen barbed-wire fences. 
 Pico has some way of getting out by a trail through 
 the Los Gatos caiion over here; takes all his sup 
 plies up on burros, they say."
 
 144 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 The next morning Mr. Paul noticed that Miss 
 Judith was late in rising. As he led Hercules to 
 his kennel, he observed a note pinned to the oak- 
 tree to which the dog's chain was attached. This 
 was addressed to him. He opened it and read : 
 
 DEAR MR. PAUL, Will you please see that my 
 poultry has water and food for a week or more, and 
 take my cow up and keep her for me until I come 
 back ? Sincerely yours, 
 
 A. JUDITH. 
 
 Mr. Paul read this message several times, then 
 saddled his horse and rode up into the hills. 
 
 The previous evening, at nightfall, Margarita 
 Pico had crouched before the embers of an open fire 
 in the old adobe, with both hands pressed to her 
 ears to shut out the moans and sighs of poor To- 
 masa, the youngest of her ninitos, she that had 
 but a week before been the plumpest and rosiest 
 of the merry crowd, but who ,now, alas ! lay in her 
 mother's bed, with skin the color of old parchment, 
 save where festering sores made hideous blotches 
 upon it. There had been another, younger than 
 Tomasa, Benito, but the angels had smiled upon 
 him when he was yet a babe whose age was counted 
 in weeks, and there had been a beautiful funeral 
 in the old Mission, to which all the kindred and 
 friends had come, and he had been laid away in 
 consecrated ground, wearing a robe finer and more 
 spotless than any he would have worn in this world, 
 poor child ; and Tomasa, but just weaned, had crept
 
 MISS JUDITH'S DISAPPEARANCE 145 
 
 again into the mother's arms, and Margarita had 
 been comforted. And now little Tomasa was fading 
 away, and the mother heart would be bereft. 
 
 Margarita herself had been born of very good 
 parentage. Her parents had not been exactly aris 
 tocrats, but they had been servants in the family of 
 an aristocrat, which is almost as good; and their 
 children had been reared with gentle manners and 
 a knowledge of the ways of people of blue blood, 
 which is second best to having that blood in your 
 veins. As a girl the young Margarita had been 
 extremely pretty, with small hands and feet, a 
 graceful figure, abundant dusky hair, beautiful soft 
 brown eyes, teeth like kernels of white corn, and 
 a clear dark skin, with cheeks as peachy as To- 
 masa's were when in health. Now she was stout 
 and ungainly, her hair thin and threaded with 
 white, her bright eyes dimmed, her teeth gone, and 
 a little network of wrinkles marking the outer cor 
 ners of her eyes, although she was only thirty-five. 
 
 Margarita had married beneath her. All her 
 friends had deplored the day when she left the 
 parental roof to take up life with Andronico Pico, 
 a worthless, roving half-breed, even then a slave to 
 the vice which had now brought him low; but he 
 had wooed her with a savage persistence, and she 
 had believed his fair promises. 
 
 With the gentle non-resistance of the women of 
 her race, Margarita had submitted to be dragged 
 to her husband's level, and the Pico house on the 
 old toll -road was known far and wide as a place 
 where men met and gambled away their hard earn-
 
 146 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 ings, where strong drink was plentiful and other 
 fare meagre, and where children blossomed and 
 flourished like the golden-cupped poppies on the 
 uplands. It did not comfort poor Margarita to 
 remember that it was one of these visitors, a burly 
 vaquero from across the sierra, whose money An- 
 dronico had won and carried to the valley for the 
 prosecution of his drunken orgie, who had brought 
 the dread disease to the children. 
 
 There came a soft rap at the door. The poor 
 woman, with her hands pressed to her ears, did not 
 hear. There was a pause, the latch was lifted, and 
 the door gently pushed open. 
 
 Margarita dimly saw a woman's figure, halting 
 in the open door; a graceful, ethereal being, clad 
 in some light raiment, who hesitated, as if not 
 knowing whether to advance or retreat. 
 
 Margarita extended her hands, palms outward, in 
 a passion of appeal. 
 
 "JVb/ No! Noahora! Tomasita mia ! " 
 
 But the visitor advanced, with a winning smile, 
 and now Margarita saw that this was a flesh-and- 
 blood young lady, as slight and girlish as she had 
 once been, very simply dressed in a gown of some 
 light tint, and with such a heavenly look of compas 
 sion in the tender blue eyes, shining like stars out 
 of her pale face, that the sad-faced little mother 
 would still have taken her for an angel, come to 
 bear away little Tomasa, had it not been for the 
 small satchel she carried in her hand. 
 
 Now that Margarita realized that this strange 
 and beautiful visitor was truly a human being, a
 
 MISS JUDITH'S DISAPPEARANCE 147 
 
 woman of flesh and blood, who had come to her 
 in the hour of her extremity, when all her friends 
 had abandoned her, she tottered to Miss Judith, 
 and stretching out her arms like a tired child, laid 
 her head on the girl's shoulder, and sobbed out her 
 sorrows in a mixture of Spanish and English. 
 
 " Oh, lady, you so kind, so good come here ! She 
 will die ! Mis pobrecitos ! All so sick ! Tomasita 
 mia ! Lady, my heart is like to break! " 
 
 "There! there! Poor little mother !" murmured 
 Miss Judith in cooing tones, whose language all wo 
 men on earth know without need of an interpreter. 
 
 Margarita controlled her emotion. She vaguely 
 felt the influence of a superior intelligence, and 
 realized that if she would reap the benefit of the 
 young stranger's heaven -brought aid, she must throw 
 no obstacle in her way. So she dried her eyes and 
 smoothed her tumbled hair, and led the way to the 
 beds of the children, Tomasa's last. 
 
 They stood long by Tomasa's side. Margarita 
 scarcely dared look up into Miss Judith's face, lest 
 she read there the confirmation of her fears. 
 
 Miss Judith put out her hand, her clean, white 
 hand, and laid it without shrinking on the child's 
 hot forehead, where ugly ulcers blotched the parched 
 skin. The cool touch was grateful to the child. 
 She ceased for a moment her low moan, and open 
 ing her eyes, gave the lady an intelligent look. 
 
 "She likes it," said Miss Judith, laying her cool 
 hand for an instant upon Margarita's warm, flabby 
 palm. Margarita understood. 
 
 "So hot! So hot! All time like burn!" she
 
 148 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 said, dramatically striking her own forehead, then 
 pointing to the child. 
 
 Miss Judith opened her satchel and took out a roll 
 of soft old cloth, a sponge, and a towel. Partly 
 by signs, and by uniting Margarita's slight know 
 ledge of the English tongue with her own slighter 
 knowledge of Spanish, she made the mother under 
 stand that she wanted water. This Margarita has 
 tened to bring, in a shining tin pan. Miss Judith 
 wet a cloth in it and laid it on the child's forehead, 
 then set the dish on the hot stones of the hearth 
 until the water was milk -warm, dipped the sponge 
 in it, squeezed it out, and under cover of the blan 
 kets sponged the child's body from head to foot, 
 following the sponge with the towel. Tomasa, very 
 wide awake now, suffered this attention with an ex 
 pression of great satisfaction. Only once did Mar 
 garita venture a mild remonstrance : 
 
 "It no go in no ? " indicating the eruption. 
 
 "Oh, dear, no. It's the very best thing in the 
 world to bring it out," responded the young nurse. 
 
 Tomasa was very sleepy before the operation was 
 concluded. She sipped a little cool water that Miss 
 Judith held to her lips, then lay back with her eyes 
 closed. 
 
 "Lie down beside her. Sing to her," suggested 
 the young lady, humming a soft little lullaby to 
 make her meaning clear. 
 
 Margarita's face brightened. Stretching her tired 
 figure on the coverlet beside the child, she crooned 
 an old Spanish cradle-song, in a queer, cracked lit 
 tle voice that nevertheless thrilled with mother love.
 
 MISS JUDITH'S DISAPPEARANCE 149 
 
 Mr. Paul would have been amazed could he have 
 seen Miss Judith's face as she listened with un 
 feigned pleasure, looking from mother to child. 
 For Tomasa first smiled, peeped from beneath her 
 fringed eyelids at the stranger, and then in a kitten 
 ish way cuddled close to her mother, and reached 
 out a little burning hand. 
 
 Margarita's heart was very full as she felt the 
 little hand nestle upon her neck. The song was 
 one she had sung to her children in turn, as she 
 held them to her breast in their all too fleeting in 
 fancy. As she crooned the simple melody, each of 
 them seemed to come back to their innocent, confid 
 ing babyhood, Benito last, in his fine white robe and 
 with his arms extended. When Tomasa at length 
 slumbered, her breath still coming and going in the 
 harsh stridency of fever, Margarita too for a little 
 time forgot this world's cares and sorrows in sleep. 
 
 Miss Judith laid a light quilt over the sleeping 
 woman, hung a shawl where it would shield the 
 blaze of the fire from her face, and turned to the 
 other patients. Eduardo and Juanito, sturdy boys 
 of ten and twelve, Anita aged eight, and Batisto, 
 a little scamp of six, had developed the disease in 
 a vigorous type, and were in turn combating it with 
 the vigor of healthy childhood. Maria, a girl of 
 fourteen, had a mild type of the fever, and was 
 already convalescing. 
 
 When each of the younger invalids realized that 
 Miss Judith's services were at their command, they 
 proceeded to make the most of the opportunity, 
 to Maria's great distress. Eduardo and Juanito
 
 150 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 wanted their pillows constantly turned, their bed 
 clothes straightened, and part of the coverings re 
 moved, and they accompanied these demands with 
 terrible Spanish oaths, in startling contrast to their 
 cherubic appearance. The window that rattled, one 
 of them wanted wedged tight and the other con 
 tended must be opened. They engaged in a wordy 
 dispute as to whose back ached the most and who 
 was the sickest. Batisto wanted a cloth on his 
 forehead, like Tomasa's, and he wanted to see the 
 lady's watch, no ! not the face, the works inside. 
 And, how did she make the little curls that fell over 
 her forehead, with papers like Maria, or with a 
 hot iron like his cousin Felicia? And when he 
 asked for a drink, why did she give him the agua 
 and not the hot tea, like mamma ? 
 
 Miss Judith granted, and parried, and denied 
 these demands, as the case required, and at length 
 had the satisfaction of seeing the two older boys 
 and Anita fall asleep, while Batisto subsided into 
 a mutinous silence. 
 
 When the young nurse had the remainder of her 
 ward under control, she turned to the soft-voiced 
 Maria, who was lying beside Anita in a corner of 
 the great room, divided from the boys' quarters by 
 a dingy curtain. Maria's eyes had long been full 
 of solicitude. 
 
 "Mamma, she sleep?" she anxiously asked, in 
 her pretty broken English. 
 
 "Yes, Maria. Beside little Tomasa." 
 
 "I so glad!" cried the unselfish girl. "She 
 work work all day, all night the same. And in
 
 MISS JUDITH'S DISAPPEARANCE 151 
 
 her arms she carry Tomasa, oh, so much ! Tomasa 
 she no like it lie in the bed, and she cry, cry all 
 time, only mamma carry her. Tomasa very sick! " 
 and the girl's face was sad. 
 
 " Yes, Maria. But she breathes better now. In 
 the morning she may be better." 
 
 From Maria Miss Judith learned that Josefa and 
 Panchito, the seven-year old twins, had been visit 
 ing their aunt in town when the family were stricken 
 down, and that the good woman was keeping them 
 from the contagion. 
 
 When Maria at length slept, Miss Judith made 
 an inspection of the premises, to determine the sani 
 tary condition of the impromptu hospital. This in 
 spection was on the whole not unsatisfactory. The 
 building was open to the rafters, but this insured a 
 good circulation of air, and the big chimney and 
 the shake roof and the chinks about the windows 
 contributed to present a passable system of ventila 
 tion. The large kitchen and eating-room in one, 
 which formed the second apartment of the house, 
 was as sweet and clean as it could reasonably be 
 kept. The spring that furnished the household sup 
 ply of water was but a few paces from the back 
 door. Best of all, for the weather was chill, there 
 was an abundant supply of fuel. 
 
 When she returned to the main living-room and 
 sleeping-room, she built up the fire, which was get 
 ting low, and, sitting down by the hearth, patiently 
 watched out the rest of the night. 
 
 When the gray light of dawn came through the 
 window, little Tomasa suddenly aroused and sat 
 upright in her bed.
 
 152 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "Mamma ! Tengo hambre I Came ! Mamma ! " 1 
 she cried out fiercely. 
 
 Margarita was instantly awake. , She tried to 
 draw the little figure down under the covers, but 
 the child resisted, struggling to free her arms, and 
 calling again loudly and shrilly for carne ! 
 
 Miss Judith could not understand the child's 
 words, but she comprehended the meaning of the 
 cry. She watched Margarita as the latter hastened 
 into the rear room, where she heard her fumbling 
 at the cupboard. Presently she reappeared with a 
 plate, and on the plate Miss Judith gave an 
 exclamation of horror. 
 
 "Oh, no, no! Surely you wouldn't give that 
 little sick child ham to eat? " 
 
 "She want it. She ask for him," returned Mar 
 garita placidly, still bent on gratifying the little 
 child's whim. 
 
 "It would kill her. Her stomach oh, how can 
 I make you understand? Maria! Maria!" gently 
 rousing the sleepy girl, "tell me, what do you call 
 milk in Spanish?" 
 
 "Leche! " answered the drowsy voice. 
 
 "Leche! leche, Margarita! No meat! Doctor 
 say no meat!" shaking her head as she pointed to 
 the offending dish. "iecAe, Margarita! leche 
 no?" 
 
 " Si ! Si I " was the laughing reply. 
 
 The mother disappeared again into the back room. 
 When she returned, she brought a mug of milk. 
 
 The young lady warmed this on the hearth, de- 
 
 1 " Mamma ! I am hungry. Meat ! Mamma ! "
 
 MISS JUDITH'S DISAPPEARANCE 153 
 
 spite the little girl's impatient demands. When she 
 finally lifted it to the small invalid's lips, the child 
 drained it to the last drop. 
 
 "Man he come!" announced Margarita, with a 
 puzzled look, a little later. "Me no spik Ingles." 
 
 Miss Judith hastened to the door, and found Mr. 
 Paul. When he saw her, he sprang from his pant 
 ing horse, whose flanks were dripping sweat, and 
 came towards her, looking stern and disapproving. 
 The instant she recognized him, she retreated. 
 
 "Don't come any nearer, Mr. Paul, I beg of 
 you ! You 're directly in the breeze that sweeps 
 past the house past me ! " 
 
 "Nonsense!" cried the young man savagely. 
 "Do you think," he demanded, "that I will hesitate 
 to go where a woman leads the way ? " 
 
 "But there isn't the least need" edging off 
 from him as she spoke " for you to expose your 
 self to the contagion. It 's sheer foolhardiness." 
 
 "Miss Judith!" said the young man, grasping 
 her hands and looking her full in the face, while 
 her eyes shrank from meeting his. "What did you 
 come up here for? " 
 
 "They needed me. You yourself told me of poor 
 Mrs. Pico's extremity." 
 
 Mr. Paul muttered an imprecation upon his own 
 folly. 
 
 "But you," cried Miss Judith, "you have done 
 this thing needlessly and without purpose. You 
 have no possible object or justification. Why don't 
 you go away?" 
 
 "I will!" he said curtly, turning on his heel.
 
 154 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 But he reconsidered the act and wheeled about 
 again. 
 
 "So you '11 not even accept me as a helper?" 
 
 "Oh, it 's a woman's work," said Miss Judith. 
 
 "But you can't do everything. You'll need 
 supplies and a messenger to town. It 's absurd to 
 think of living up here cut off from all connection 
 with people." 
 
 "You should see the supplies we have!" ex 
 claimed the volunteer nurse, her face dimpling with 
 sudden recollection. "The people of the valley 
 have been lavish with pies and cakes, and spices, 
 and baked meats. We have everything for a feast ; 
 the only drawback is that there are n6 banqueters ! 
 But there is n't a particle of corn-meal or oat-meal, 
 or anything to make gruel of, in the house. And 
 nobody has thought to send any old cloth." 
 
 "Then let me get what you need," urged the 
 young man eagerly. 
 
 "If you could find time to come up once a day 
 to take down any little list I may prepare " con 
 ceded the lady. 
 
 "I will take time." 
 
 " But you must promise to come only to a certain 
 place, say that clump of elders below the spring, 
 where there will be no danger of further exposure/' 
 
 "While you are hanging over the beds of those 
 sick children, inhaling disease with every breath." 
 
 " Could it make my danger less if you shared it ? 
 You're very irrational," said Miss Judith. "The 
 best and kindest thing you could do would be to 
 keep well and strong, so as to be able to take care
 
 MISS JUDITH'S DISAPPEARANCE 155 
 
 of me if I should fall sick, or see that I had proper 
 care." 
 
 "I will do just as you say," said Mr. Paul hum 
 bly. "But spare yourself all you can, my little 
 woman. If the lives of all the Picos should be 
 saved at the expense of yours " 
 
 "They would be cheaply bought," said the girl 
 positively, and a shadow came over her face. But 
 as she turned to go into the house, he* noted the tired 
 droop of her shoulders, the expression of one labor 
 ing under a hopeless burden of sorrow. 
 
 The doctor came at noon. He made his way at 
 once to little Tomasa's side. The child was par 
 tially propped up on pillows, holding in her arms 
 a cherished doll of Maria's. Although still very 
 sick and painfully 'disfigured, she was the picture 
 of content. 
 
 "What have you been doing to my patient? " he 
 gruffly asked Miss Judith, who had followed him to 
 the bedside. 
 
 "Very little, doctor," returned the young lady, 
 alarmed at his tone and manner. "I know so little 
 of disease or sickness that I could only do what it 
 seemed to me I would like to have done for myself. 
 I sponged her a little, and kept her head cool, and 
 her feet warm, and saw that she had milk instead 
 of ham " 
 
 At the mention of this latter dish the physician 
 threw up his hands. She misunderstood his action. 
 
 "If I have made any mistake" she faltered. 
 " Perhaps I ought not to have tried. I 've had so 
 little experience "
 
 156 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "Mistake! " exclaimed the doctor. He timed 
 the child's pulse, and took her temperature, and 
 drew away her clothing to look at chest and stom 
 ach, where the eruption had been scant and dull. 
 
 "Miss Judith," he said frankly, "I expected to 
 find this child dead or dying this morning. With 
 care she is going to live." 
 
 Margarita understood, and knelt thankfully be 
 side the baby, placing her arms around her. The 
 young nurse's eyes were moist. The doctor took 
 a hasty survey of his remaining patients, gave some 
 brief instructions, and moved towards the door. 
 
 "It 's a blessing to have some one who can under 
 stand English, and with sufficient intelligence to 
 carry out directions when I give them," he said. 
 "Half the mortality among these people is due to 
 their ignorance and carelessness. If it were not 
 for their healthy outdoor life, the race would soon 
 be extinct." 
 
 The battle was by no means over. There were 
 days and nights of tireless watching, of ceaseless 
 and menial service, of patient self-sacrifice, for Miss 
 Judith, before the last patient was well on the road 
 to recovery. To go into the comfortable chamber 
 of the rich, surrounded by every convenience and 
 with servants within call, and to minister to the 
 wants of the suffering, is a task that often tries the 
 most patient nurse. To enter the hovel of the poor, 
 share its homely drudgery and its deprivations, and 
 at the same time to render faithful service to a 
 squad of young invalids, is a task to try an angel, 
 and Miss Judith's wings had not more than sprouted.
 
 MISS JUDITH'S DISAPPEARANCE 157 
 
 In spite of all the adverse conditions, chief of 
 which was the smiling indifference of the little 
 Spanish mother, Miss Judith contrived to introduce 
 a certain system into the ill-regulated household. 
 Each day the floor was neatly brushed and the 
 hearth swept, wild flowers gathered and put in a jar 
 on the table, lending new grace to the dim, bare 
 room, and all the litter made by the convalescents 
 was put away in an orderly fashion. So untaught 
 were the children in all that goes to make up the 
 refinements of civilization that she often felt herself 
 at the mercy of a horde of savages. 
 
 Eduardo and Juanito were still in bed, and Maria 
 feebly creeping about, when Margarita herself 
 drooped, refusing food, and taking to her bed. 
 
 "Miss Judith, you are already worn out, and 
 ought to be discharged," said the physician that 
 day, viewing her doubtfully. 
 
 "Not while there is anything left to be done!" 
 replied the lady bravely. 
 
 "It's a shame to ask it, but do you think you 
 can help me through this case? " 
 
 "I '11 try, doctor." 
 
 That night another baby was born into the old 
 adobe, a puny little boy, whom the mother gathered 
 to her breast as gladly and proudly as if he had 
 been her firstborn. 
 
 Toward morning, when Miss Judith went to see 
 if mother and child were comfortable, she found 
 Margarita wide awake, but in a deep reverie. She 
 stretched out her hand and patted the girl's slender 
 fingers.
 
 158 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "You good me. Good lady. Muy bonito baby. 
 No?" 
 
 "Very pretty! " approved Miss Judith. 
 
 "I been think I name him Andronico, for my 
 poor man ! " And Margarita began to weep. 
 
 So Andronico, languishing in the county jail, 
 where there was neither drink nor cards, had his 
 sorrows assuaged by the tidings that a son and 
 namesake had been born to him that day. 
 
 What did it matter that a month later the baby 
 died? He was buried in a fine white robe like 
 Benito's, and in a white and gilt coffin whose splen 
 dor dazzled Margarita's eyes. 
 
 This coffin was Andronico 's peace-offering to his 
 family when he returned to its bosom after serving 
 out his term of exile. Its magnificence so capti 
 vated Margarita that in recounting its glory she 
 quite forgot the little baby who slumbered so peace 
 fully against its satin lining, calling it by turns 
 Benito and Andronico. What would you have? 
 Did she not still have Tomasita?
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 A MYSTERIOUS TRYST 
 
 '"!T must seem good to be out of doors after 
 breathing that polluted atmosphere for weeks," re 
 marked Mr. Paul, coming upon Miss Judith, who 
 was diligently pruning a climbing rose whose crim 
 son blooms already reached the door sill of her eyrie. 
 
 "The wonder is that people ever live in houses," 
 rejoined the girl. "I have burned every thread I 
 wore up there, but I feel as if I myself ought to be 
 aired and fumigated." 
 
 "My promised occupation has not materialized. 
 You don't show any symptoms of sickness." 
 
 "No. The doctor's disinfectants may have had 
 something to do with it, but nature helped. When 
 ever I caught an hour's rest, it was out in the 
 sunshine, lying on a blanket under a bush or tree. 
 The fresh air I drew into my lungs drove all the 
 microbes out. I can't get enough of it now." And 
 she stood erect and drew a long, deep breath. 
 
 "Then come with me on a drive down to the vil 
 lage. I promise you your fill all the way." 
 
 She hesitated. A hundred little unfulfilled duties 
 claimed her ; but the day was charming, the invita 
 tion alluring, and human nature weak. 
 
 The road zigzagged down the mesa, entering a 
 thicket of mountain lilacs hastened into premature
 
 160 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 bloom by the mild December sunshine. The clus 
 ters of delicate blue blossoms brushed against them, 
 filling the air with their sweetness. Mr. Paul 
 broke off a little branch and placed it in her hand. 
 
 "Pure and fragrant as the perfume of a good 
 woman's life ! " he reverently remarked. 
 
 Miss Judith made no reply, but held the blooms 
 to her face. The simple tribute appealed to her, 
 and brought her dangerously near to tears. 
 
 Modestly laboring in the squalid adobe, she had 
 little guessed the sensation that her course had cre 
 ated in the small community below. As they drove 
 through the village streets, she found herself the 
 recipient of an uncomfortable amount of attention. 
 Hats were everywhere lifted, and heads bowed low 
 as she passed. Children stared at her. Women 
 left their marketing or shopping to solicitously in 
 quire after her health and to applaud her courage. 
 It was a relief when they at length escaped from 
 the thickly populated quarter and took their way 
 in the direction of the lower settlement, where a 
 miscellaneous collection of warehouses clustered near 
 the railroad, and where Mr. Paul wished to negoti 
 ate for seed for his spring planting. 
 
 Near the station, on the edge of the salt marsh, 
 a rude camp had been established under a clump 
 of willows. Cooking operations were in progress, 
 and they could see around the open fire a gang of 
 tramps grouped. A young man, better dressed 
 than the others, stood a little apart, looking up the 
 road. As he heard the rattle of cart-wheels, he 
 gave a hasty glance at the occupants, then quickly
 
 A MYSTERIOUS TRYST 161 
 
 wheeled about, turning his back to them. Miss 
 Judith bent over and looked back at him as they 
 passed. As they approached the station, she spoke 
 in what she tried to make a brisk, business-like tone, 
 but which sounded very weak and tremulous : 
 
 "Please stop at the depot. I must see the agent 
 about something. Wait at the warehouse for me 
 until I come." 
 
 Something in this sudden resolve and unexpected 
 statement impressed Mr. Paul with its insincerity. 
 He helped her out, and drove slowly on, without 
 looking behind him. Had he done so, he might 
 have seen Miss Judith walk straight through the 
 depot and out upon the opposite platform, where a 
 path led off over the fields. 
 
 Mr. Paul finished his business at the warehouse, 
 and decided to disregard Miss Judith's request and 
 return to the depot for her. Indeed, he was quite 
 sure that she could by no possibility find the station 
 agent in at that hour, as no train was due until 
 late that night. For this reason it surprised him a 
 little that he did not meet her coming along the road. 
 As he had expected, the office was closed and the 
 station deserted. Moved by a vague apprehension, 
 he drove rapidly back to where they had seen the 
 tramps' encampment. In the edge of the field Miss 
 Judith stood, talking with the man they had seen. 
 Her hand was on his arm, and her whole attitude 
 seemed to be one of entreaty. Apparently the fel 
 low yielded a sullen consent, for he awkwardly lifted 
 his hat, and Miss Judith, not seeing Mr. Paul, 
 turned and walked swiftly back in the direction of
 
 162 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 the station. To whip up his horse and fly back 
 over the road, screened by the willows which lined 
 the fence, was the work of a few moments, and Mr. 
 Paul was waiting there in patience when she came. 
 
 The girl's veil was tightly drawn, and Mr. Paul 
 felt sure, without seeing her face, that she had been 
 crying. With exceeding delicacy he did not appear 
 to notice that anything was amiss, but drove along 
 back streets until they gained the quiet and privacy 
 of the hills. 
 
 The sun was low on the horizon, and the chill of 
 night was in the air. He picked up an extra robe 
 that he carried and wrapped it about her shoulders, 
 an attention that she recognized with murmured 
 thanks. They had reached the mesa, climbed the 
 last terrace, and drawn up in the shelter of the 
 oaks before she spoke or seemed to acknowledge 
 his presence. 
 
 It is not in human nature to heartily sympathize 
 with hidden suffering. Mr. Paul could not free 
 himself from a feeling that Miss Judith had not 
 shown proper confidence in him. 
 
 "I am afraid the ride has been too much for 
 you," he said, as he lifted her from the cart. 
 
 "No, oh, no!" she protested, in a dreary little 
 voice. "The fresh air is always good for one. It 
 was kind of you to take me." 
 
 "Then I shall expect you to go again," he said 
 politely, occupying himself with a refractory buckle 
 on the harness. 
 
 "I feel as if I never wanted to go anywhere 
 again," said the girl wearily, her voice breaking.
 
 A MYSTERIOUS TRYST 163 
 
 The young man made no response or comment. 
 
 Miss Judith pulled a handful of lettuce leaves 
 and fed them to the sorrel. Mr. Paul waited, 
 ready to twist the hitching-rope into a hackamore 
 about the animal's nose. 
 
 " I wish I could consult you about something, 
 Mr. Paul," she said at length desperately. 
 
 "If my advice would be of any benefit, I am sure 
 you are welcome to it," he replied stiffly. 
 
 She looked at him searchingly, but shook her 
 head sadly. 
 
 "No, no. It would never do. Men are too hard 
 on men. They do not know what it is to be char 
 itable and forgiving." 
 
 With this equivocal statement she left him.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 A STOEMY INTERVIEW 
 
 MR. PAUL went along the canon trail feeling 
 decidedly uncomfortable. He knew that his man 
 ner had not been such as to invite Miss Judith's 
 confidence, and he could not blind himself to the 
 fact that she seemed greatly in need of a wise and 
 sympathetic counselor. But he could not conceive 
 of a more distasteful office than to advise Miss 
 Judith in an affair involving another man. 
 
 As he went about his chores that night, other 
 misgivings assailed him. What relation did this 
 strange man bear to the girl, that he should be 
 capable of causing her such sorrow? He was 
 plainly some one near and dear, for she had placed 
 her hand on his arm, and had humbled herself so 
 far as to plead with him. Was it some unworthy 
 lover, or could he hold a nearer and dearer tie ? In 
 this Western land women were often married and 
 divorced, and resumed their maiden names, and 
 new friends were none the wiser. This suspicion 
 he instantly put away as unworthy of himself and 
 impossible to her. Whatever secret her life held, 
 deceit had no part in it, he knew. What a heroic 
 soul she was, loyal to the call of duty, facing hor 
 rors from which others fled, patiently devoting her 
 self to the service of the lowly, then serenely return-
 
 A STORMY INTERVIEW 165 
 
 ing to her own simple duties ! He had acted like a 
 churl when she had been ready to bestow her confi 
 dence upon him. He resolved that he would go 
 up to the paper cottage that very night, and humbly 
 ask her to trust him, assuring her of his stanch 
 support and sympathy, whatever the troubles that 
 beset her. 
 
 It was later than he expected when he finished 
 his work that night, so late that he was afraid his 
 neighbor, who kept early hours, might have retired, 
 and he hastened over the trail, walking lightly, 
 that he might not disturb her in case she should 
 have already sought her couch. As he reached the 
 top of the trail, he saw that her light was still 
 burning brightly, but the next instant he paused in 
 consternation, for in the vicinity of the oak-tree 
 he could plainly hear two voices, a man's and a 
 woman's, raised in excited argument. 
 
 Mr. Paul's first impulse was to retreat as quietly 
 as he had come. He remembered Miss Judith's 
 lonely and unprotected situation. Upon what er 
 rand had this strange visitor come, who had thus 
 invaded the peace and privacy of her home ? 
 
 Two figures were standing under the oaks. He 
 knew the slight girlish form to be Miss Judith's, 
 but so changed was her voice that he could not have 
 recognized it. 
 
 So absorbed were the pair in impassioned speech 
 that they did not heed him as he walked towards 
 them. Hesitating for a moment, he stepped for 
 ward and boldly presented himself before them. The 
 light from the open door of the cottage streamed
 
 166 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 down upon them, making a luminous circle in which 
 the two figures stood. Miss Judith was facing a 
 boy, a lad of man's stature, but with a boy's hand 
 some, unformed, shamefaced, indecisive counte 
 nance. 
 
 The young fellow shrank back, surprised and 
 silenced at Mr. Paul's intrusion. His appearance 
 did not startle or dismay the girl. Perhaps, in her 
 tense mood, it was a momentary comfort to find 
 some one upon whom she could call to witness her 
 despair and shame. 
 
 "See him! " she cried. "My brother my only 
 brother, Mr. Paul. The boy my mother gave me 
 as a sacred charge upon her dying bed. The pride 
 of my girlhood, the hope of my womanhood. The 
 only living person to inherit and hand down our 
 name. Oh, that I should have to say it! he is 
 a thief. A self-confessed thief, who has robbed the 
 employer who trusted him. Look at him! See 
 dishonor written in his face. A thief and a coward, 
 running away from the just consequences of the 
 crime he has committed. Oh, go! go!" she sud 
 denly cried, turning upon the lad, her hand uplifted 
 as if to banish him forever from her sight. 
 
 "I 'm willing," said the boy doggedly. "I did n't 
 want to come up here. You know I didn't. It 
 was accident that brought me to the station. I 
 was trying to keep out of your sight, trying to get 
 out of the country. You followed me and made me 
 promise." 
 
 There were unshed tears in his eyes. His flushed 
 face quivered. Miss Judith did not see. She went 
 on in the same strained voice :
 
 A STORMY INTERVIEW 167 
 
 "You have ruined your life, Rob, and mine. Dis 
 graced our name! I can never hold up my head 
 again. I never want to see your face again as long 
 as I live . . . never hear your voice " 
 
 "Be silent!" commanded Mr. Paul sternly, lay 
 ing his hand on her shoulder. 
 
 Miss Judith looked at him in amazement. 
 
 "You don't know what you are saying, what 
 you are doing ! Go back to the house. Leave him 
 to me." 
 
 He had taken her hand, and was leading her, 
 unresisting, to the foot of her stair. All her fierce 
 indignation and passionate resentment seemed to 
 die away at his touch. 
 
 Bowing meekly under his reproof, and without 
 speaking, possessed now only by hopeless sorrow, 
 she suffered him to guide her. On the stair he 
 paused for a hasty word. 
 
 "You don't understand boys. Women never do. 
 Go to work and get that lad the cosiest little supper 
 you can. He 's hungry and tired. He '11 never 
 forget it. Be cheerful and pleasant when we come 
 back. Don't say another word about this trouble ! " 
 
 Mr. Paul hastened back to where he had left the 
 young fellow, but he was nowhere to be seen.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 BOY AND MAN 
 
 ALONG the bluff, where the road took its first 
 plunge towards the valley, the young man could 
 dimly see a moving figure, fast vanishing into the 
 night. Mr. Paul was but an instant in deciding 
 upon his course. He took a bridle-path through 
 the chaparral, and in a few minutes came face to 
 face with the boy, who was recklessly making his 
 way to the coast. 
 
 "Rob, I want to have a talk with you." 
 
 "Oh, I'm going!" said the lad defiantly. 
 "Straight to perdition, where she's sending me. 
 I've got over a good piece of the road already!" 
 and he laughed harshly. 
 
 Mr. Paul laid his hand on the fugitive's arm. 
 
 "Come with me!" 
 
 "I beg to be excused." 
 
 "Come with me!" 
 
 "Not much!" 
 
 "Come with me." 
 
 "I won't." 
 
 "Come with me! " The grasp of his hand tight 
 ened. 
 
 " I '11 be hanged if I will!" 
 
 "You '11 be hanged if you won't." 
 
 Rob wrenched himself free, and would have
 
 BOY AND MAN 169 
 
 started on a run for the valley, when the clenched 
 fist of a trained boxer shot through the air and fell 
 like lightning on him, and he measured his length 
 across the road. 
 
 "How do you feel now?" asked Mr. Paul anx 
 iously, a few minutes later. 
 
 Robert Judith was sitting propped up against the 
 bank at the roadside, very much dazed, while Mr. 
 Paul was applying his own handkerchief, dipped in 
 cold water, to a big bruise on the side of the lad's 
 head. 
 
 "All right, I guess," replied Rob doubtfully. 
 "What happened to me, anyhow?" 
 
 "I think I took the right spot," said Mr. Paul, 
 still a little solicitous, comparing the two sides of 
 the boy's skull. "The moonlight is deceptive, and 
 you dodged just as my fist came down." 
 
 "You 're a queer fellow ! " said the lad, after a few 
 minutes' silence, noting the tenderness of the man's 
 ministrations. "What did you do it for, anyway? " 
 
 "It would be better to kill you outright than to 
 have you return to that kind of life," replied Mr. 
 Paul frankly. 
 
 Rob laughed again, and this time there was no 
 thing but healthy amusement in the sound. But the 
 light mood passed swiftly away. 
 
 "What do you want of me? " he asked. 
 
 "I want to take you up into the hills and make 
 a man of you." 
 
 "You can't. She 's tried. Others have tried. 
 I 've tried, God knows I 've tried ! It's always 
 a losing game."
 
 170 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "Tell me aU about it, Bob." 
 
 "Cards, and wine and then stronger drink. 
 Some of the men got hold of us boys. I was get 
 ting a fair salary this time, and had begun a little 
 bank account. I 'd kept fairly straight, but always 
 wasted all I ma'de before. With money in bank, 
 I felt as if I 'd made a real start. But they found 
 it out. It all went, and more. They called them 
 debts of honor, and taunted me about them. I 
 knew the combination of the safe. Captain Nor- 
 cross trusted me." 
 
 "Norcross, of the Great Western Traffic and 
 Navigation Company?" 
 
 Rob nodded. 
 
 "A decent old chap, but a queer manager. Gives 
 his clerks their head, then reins them up short, and 
 wants to shoot them when they jump the traces. 
 How much was it, Rob ? " 
 
 "Thirty -five hundred. There were three of us. 
 The others got most all the money, or I 'd have been 
 out of the country before this. The officers are on 
 the watch for us everywhere. I don't see how I 
 got this far." 
 
 "Suppose you get out of the country. What 
 then?" 
 
 "Where people didn't know me I could make a 
 fresh start, maybe; and live right, and build up a 
 good reputation " 
 
 "Knowing all the time that you were a liar and 
 hypocrite, and had left this unpaid debt behind 
 you, to the world and to society," supplied the 
 man.
 
 BOY AND MAN 171 
 
 "Oh, I know it's no use," said the boy desper 
 ately. "But there are other things one can do." 
 
 "As, for instance?" 
 
 "Better let me go, Mr. Paul. I promise you 
 I '11 keep straight. I give you my word, this is the 
 last thing I '11 ever do to disgrace my friends. The 
 moon's setting, and there 's only enough light to 
 show me the way to the camp." 
 
 The young fellow stood up, looking very erect 
 and manly. 
 
 "I'll let you go only on condition that you'll 
 confide your plans to me," said Mr. Paul. 
 
 "Oh, I know it's no use my trying to do any 
 thing more," said the boy sadly. "But I do know 
 a fellow who will sleep in the shed at the station to 
 night, who has a revolver that shoots straight. I 
 don't think he '11 mind my using a single cartridge." 
 
 His voice was steady, and the grim purpose with 
 which he' had started out could be plainly read in 
 his young face, as the moonlight fell full upon it. 
 
 "And break your sister's heart?" 
 
 "It's broken already. Do you think I didn't 
 care to-night? Every word she said went through 
 me like a knife. She shan't suffer any more on my 
 account." 
 
 Mr. Paul threw an arm around the boy's shoul 
 der, with a gesture of comradeship. 
 
 "Rob, why do you suppose your sister came up 
 here?" 
 
 "I don't know. I never thought," said the boy. 
 
 "I never knew before. It has puzzled me very 
 much to see a young, gently bred, delicate woman
 
 172 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 like her, coming up into this wild country and try 
 ing to establish a home. She has worked very 
 hard, Rob, and cheerfully performed many tasks 
 that few women would undertake. And she put so 
 much enthusiasm into her work, her home-build 
 ing! One day, several weeks ago, a letter came, 
 and before she had finished reading it she fainted 
 away. Do you know what was in that letter, Rob ? " 
 
 "I suppose so," said the boy, in a choked voice. 
 
 "Then I knew there was somebody, somewhere, 
 she was thinking of as she toiled," continued Mr. 
 Paul. "But from that day all the heart seemed to 
 have gone out of her work. Rob, I believe she 
 came up here to try to make a home for you, she, 
 that frail, delicate little woman! " 
 
 "Poor little Amy! " said he, gulping down a sob. 
 
 Amy ! Amy Judith ! It was the first time Mr. 
 Paul .had heard her Christian name. How the 
 pretty girlish name softened and sweetened the aus 
 tere surname. 
 
 "Rob," he said, "do you know what life in the 
 hills is like; do you know what it is to dwell on 
 these sunny heights, apart from all temptation, 
 where the days are filled with healthy work and 
 healthy thoughts, and the nights bring sweetest 
 rest? Can you fancy what it is to rise to the music 
 of bird songs, to learn to know and love every tree 
 and flower that grows, to read the story of the rocks, 
 to spend your holidays exploring mountain recesses 
 where no human foot has ever trod? Do you un 
 derstand how souls reach their full stature away 
 from the vices and striving and unrest of the city?"
 
 BOY AND MAN 173 
 
 To the boy who had been for days fleeing like 
 a hunted thing, disgraced, hungry, weary, and foot 
 sore, the young man's words seemed to conjure a 
 forbidden paradise, over whose entrance hung the 
 flaming sword. 
 
 "It 's too late. If I could only have been started 
 so!" 
 
 "Make a fresh start now, Eob, and on the right 
 basis. Take a good rest to-night, and to-morrow 
 write a letter to old Norcross, telling him where 
 you are, and how you feel, and asking him to give 
 you a chance to repay the money. He 's not a 
 revengeful fellow. Like most rich men, you '11 find 
 he '11 prefer to measure retribution in dollars and 
 cents. Ask him to give you time." 
 
 "And you think he 'd do it? " 
 
 "Try it. I '11 help you to devise ways and 
 means." 
 
 "But Amy?" 
 
 "Don't mind the harsh words she said to-night, 
 Rob. No doubt they were not half as harsh as you 
 deserved, but she didn't mean them, just the same. 
 She was all unstrung with grief and worry and 
 exhaustion. She 's been doing what not another 
 woman in the valley would do, nursing a lot 
 of little Spanish children through the smallpox in 
 an old adobe, up in the hills. She 's had no regu 
 lar sleep, or proper food, or civilized comforts for 
 weeks." 
 
 "Poor little Amy! " said her brother. 
 
 They climbed the trail to the paper cottage, where 
 the light streamed out of an open door, in which
 
 174 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 stood Miss Judith, clad in her prettiest gown, to 
 welcome the prodigal and efface the memory of that 
 sorry earlier home-coming. 
 
 "Amy!" cried the boy, and his voice was a 
 prayer for forgiveness. 
 
 "Rob! My dear brother! I have so wanted 
 you to make the little home complete." 
 
 In the bright lamplight Mr. Paul could see that 
 the boy was gaunt and ragged. The suit he wore, 
 of expensive cloth and stylish cut, showed earth 
 stains, and had evidently been slept in; but his 
 cleanly appearance testified to the power of early 
 breeding. 
 
 In the house a little table was decked with spot 
 less damask and dainty dishes. A tea-kettle was 
 singing, and a savory odor came from a covered pan 
 on the stove. Mr. Paul would have retired, but 
 both sister and brother were plainly so anxious to 
 have him stay that he remained. Amy placed a 
 chair at the table, and urged Rob into it. 
 
 "I know you '11 enjoy a good home meal, late as 
 it is," she said. "You see I have n't forgotten your 
 likings, Rob," uncovering a nicely browned egg 
 omelette of generous proportions. "And I make 
 my own bread and my own butter," pushing each 
 towards him in turn. "And this is my own cow's 
 milk. It 's so different from the city, where every 
 thing has to be bought from other people, and you 
 never really know what you are getting." 
 
 "They taste good, I can tell you, Amy. You 
 always were a glorious cook," said the boy, between 
 mouthfuls, for he was ravenously bolting all that
 
 BOY AND MAN 175 
 
 was set before him, with an appetite born of long 
 tramping and fasting. 
 
 "Your sister has so wide a range of accomplish 
 ments in the cooking line that she quite overawes 
 me sometimes," said Mr. Paul. "I have a single 
 really artistic achievement" 
 
 "Flapjacks?" suggested the girl. 
 
 "Flapjacks!" avowed the young man proudly. 
 "I 'm ready to meet Miss Amy in a flapjack contest 
 any day." 
 
 "Mr. Paul is a better sailor than he is a cook 
 or farmer!" explained the girl. "His especial 
 talent is the reefing of small craft in a gale." 
 
 "Miss Judith, people in paper houses" 
 
 " Rob, I leave it to you if my paper cottage mer 
 its so many jibes. Is n't it a dear, cosy, comfort 
 able little home? " 
 
 "Not exactly medieval in structure, perhaps, but 
 an abode 'that nobody could capsize with a mere 
 breath!" supplied Mr. Paul. 
 
 This little badinage relieved the strain that was 
 on them all. Rob looked from one to the other 
 of the bright, animated faces with manifest enjoy 
 ment. He surveyed the interior of the cottage with 
 new interest. So unusual a structure appealed to 
 the boyish love of novelty. 
 
 "You don't mean to say that it is made of paper, 
 Amy! All this oak graining, and the frescoed 
 ceiling and paneled walls?" 
 
 "All make-believe, but just as pleasant and ser 
 viceable as wood in this climate, and not a quarter 
 its price. To be sure, it has its drawbacks and its
 
 176 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 disadvantages. It 's necessary to keep the furniture 
 well balanced, and you have to be rather circum 
 spect in your movements. I tipped over my broom 
 the other day, and it went through the wall. It 
 teaches one careful habits, too. You don't feel like 
 leaving matches around promiscuously, or driving 
 nails at random, or leaning on door-knobs. But 
 you are forgetting your tea, Rob." 
 
 She poured out the amber liquid, sweetening it 
 with a couple of lumps of sugar, and passed him 
 the cream-jug. With the cup halfway to his lips, 
 he stopped and scrutinized the ware. 
 
 "Mother's willow cup. Do you remember it, 
 Rob? You will find many of the old home -belong 
 ings up here. The chair in which you are sitting 
 is the one in which she used to sit and hold you 
 when you were a little fellow, the big chair that 
 used to stand in the corner of the nursery, Rob ! " 
 
 The boy hastily swallowed the tea and looked 
 down on the chair, his face working. He had been 
 trying to get away from the old recollections, trying 
 to discard the home ties, but they were very dear, 
 he had not realized how dear until now that he 
 found himself again in their toils. The girl's voice 
 went on, tenderly, cheerily : 
 
 "Nothing can quite take the place of the old 
 home things, Rob. We '11 hold fast to them as long 
 as we live, won't we, dear? You don't know what 
 a help it is going to be to me to have you here. 
 I'm afraid I 'm a very ambitious farmer. I plan 
 so much that I 'm not able to carry out. But now, 
 with our two pairs of hands and your strength
 
 BOY AND MAN 177 
 
 Why, Rob, what a man you have grown since I 
 saw you last! " 
 
 How he sorrowed to think that his moral stature 
 had not kept pace with his physical; but in that 
 moment he resolved that if God would grant him 
 grace to accomplish it, he would yet retrieve the 
 past, and become a man in whom this dear sister 
 could honestly take pride. 
 
 " But you, Amy ? You 're not looking as strong 
 as I hoped to see you." 
 
 "I had a little accident that confined me indoors 
 for a while. And I 've been tired and troubled. 
 But it will be all right now, Rob. Never fear ! " 
 she said, with a wan little smile. 
 
 "And that old trouble? " the boy asked softly. 
 
 "Just the same, Rob. It will never be any dif 
 ferent. I must put all thought of that aside." 
 
 But here Mr. Paul, who had long since betaken 
 himself to the far end of the room, and who had 
 been trying to interest himself in a book while 
 keenly conscious of all that was taking place, came 
 forward to say good-night. 
 
 "It is late now. I must go over to my cabin. 
 Rob had better run down and see me in the morn 
 ing, and we '11 discuss plans together." 
 
 "How far away from here do you live?" asked 
 the boy innocently. 
 
 " Only a stone's throw. Merely across the gulch." 
 
 "Is it possible! How fortunate you are in hav 
 ing such a near neighbor, Amy." 
 
 "Very fortunate!" attested Miss Amy, but she 
 looked at Mr. Paul with a flash of satirical fun.
 
 178 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "Your letters gave me the impression that you 
 lived a long distance from anybody else; that your 
 land extended half a mile on either side, all cut up 
 with gulches and rough country, and you had the 
 wild mountains back of you." 
 
 "I shall have to tell you, Kob, that my letters 
 were correct." 
 
 "Then, where does Mr. Paul's land come in? 
 Oh, I see. He 's living on your land, farming it 
 on shares or under contract." 
 
 "You are mistaken, Rob. So far as titles go 
 which is not very far in this case I am on my 
 own land," insisted Mr. Paul. 
 
 "Then I can't see, oh, are you both close to the 
 edges of your tracts, near section lines?" pursued 
 Rob, with a boy's inquisitiveness. 
 
 "I like your tenacity, Eob," replied Mr. Paul. 
 "It 's a good trait, and should be rewarded. I see 
 I shall have to explain this matter. To begin with, 
 your sister and I are both on unsurveyed govern 
 ment land." 
 
 "Oh, I see" 
 
 " On the contrary, I fear you have just reached 
 the point where you will begin not to see." 
 
 "And every actual settler on government land, 
 before a survey is made, is entitled to enter three 
 hundred and twenty acres when the survey is filled," 
 put in his sister. 
 
 "Now we are coming to the facts, Rob. It 's a 
 blessing to be exact," bowing before the girl, who 
 resented this attention with a little shrug. 
 
 "Nearly four years ago, Rob, I camped on this
 
 BOY AND MAN 179 
 
 land, and I decided then that if the world or for 
 tune should ever go back on me, I 'd come up here 
 and spend my declining days." 
 
 "Oh! ' Declining days ' ! " exclaimed Amy. 
 
 "The day came when the world went back on 
 me," continued Mr. Paul, disdaining to notice this 
 interruption. "I packed my gripsack " 
 
 "With a black curtain! " put in Miss Judith. 
 
 Mr. Paul gave her a reproachful look. What* 
 ever the mystery of the black curtain, he permitted 
 no light reference to it. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said the girl, under her 
 breath. 
 
 He acknowledged the gentle apology with a look 
 so sad and wistful that her heart ached over her 
 hasty speech. But he went on, resuming his tone 
 of playful seriousness : 
 
 "So I came up here, intending to turn farmer 
 and live by the sweat of my brow. I had great 
 plans and roseate expectations. Of course I meant 
 to begin in a very modest way " 
 
 "Planting cabbages and onions!" suggested the 
 girl mischievously. 
 
 "For the sustenance of my neighbor's cows," 
 supplied Mr. Paul quickly, at which the girl mo 
 mentarily subsided. "No one ever builds such mag 
 nificent air-castles as the poor California farmer, 
 Rob. You '11 find out, when you get to work your 
 self. And no one ever has his air castles topple 
 down so persistently. I intended to keep my canon 
 as nearly as possible in its wild state, a charming 
 little natural park. The hills I meant to plant with
 
 180 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 olives, and along the benches, ranging downward 
 towards the sea, I designed setting out all manner 
 of fruits of every clime, according to the altitudes. 
 I planned to widen the brook at one point into an 
 artificial lake, stocking it with trout. The hills 
 back of me formed a great natural preserve for 
 game. I had never seen a more secluded, peaceful 
 spot than this was when I first beheld it." 
 
 "And before I came," murmured Miss Judith. 
 
 "All these delights and privileges, and the quiet 
 and seclusion, I intended to keep to myself for a 
 while, until I got over grieving for the loss of my 
 purse." 
 
 "I didn't know you had lost any purse," put in 
 the boy, aggrieved by the omission. 
 
 "Oh, didn't I mention it? Well, I had," said 
 the young man placidly. "When the time came 
 that I could forget, I meant to hunt up other fel 
 lows, friends of mine, who are all the while using 
 up or throwing away their purses, their fairy 
 purses, Rob ! and ask them up here for a while, 
 make it a sort of hospital for disappointed ambi 
 tions, decayed hopes, wasted efforts, do you see? " 
 
 "I see," said the boy seriously. 
 
 Miss Judith was listening very gravely now. 
 
 "I knew Uncle Sam had this tract ready to give 
 away for the asking, if one would comply with cer 
 tain conditions. I came up here ready to faithfully 
 keep my part of the contract with the paternal gov 
 ernment. I brought lumber and nails and tools, 
 prepared to turn carpenter, joiner, woodsman, and 
 mason. One morning I went about building my
 
 BOY AND MAN 181 
 
 house, a good, solid, substantial dwelling, as you '11 
 admit when you see it, Kob. And while I was 
 blistering my hands and breaking my back over it, 
 your sister had this cottage put in a wheelbarrow, 
 and a man trundled it up here and set it in place, 
 and she claimed priority of settlement on the strength 
 of it." 
 
 "A wheelbarrow! A great four -horse team!" 
 contended Miss Judith. 
 
 "Never mind! I won't stand on trifles!" an 
 nounced Mr. Paul, with a grand wave of his hand. 
 "But there 's the situation. Priority of settlement! 
 Of course the land isn't surveyed yet, and may not 
 be till we 're gray-headed. Meantime we have a 
 magnificent, legitimate, desperate land-feud." 
 
 "And I spoiled all your Utopian plans by coming 
 up here," said Miss Judith; and no one could have 
 told whe.ther she spoke in genuine compunction or 
 in irony. 
 
 "Yes, you spoiled them, completely and utterly," 
 said Mr. Paul. "My air-castle is in ruins. You 
 spoiled them, for the simple reason that no man 
 can properly nurse disappointed ambitions, decayed 
 hopes, or mourn over wasted efforts, with a woman 
 around. And this is the reason: she will stimu 
 late him to new efforts and new ambitions, and put 
 new hope into him." 
 
 A thoughtful silence fell upon the three. The 
 young man broke it in a very prosaic way. 
 
 "Excuse me, Miss Judith," he said, "but have 
 you the necessary bedding to make this young man 
 comfortable for the night?"
 
 182 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "There is a comfortable couch," she said, point 
 ing to the window seat with its soft upholstery. 
 "As for coverings, oh, I can contrive." 
 
 "There isn't the slightest need of contriving, 
 when I have more blankets than I can use, and it 's 
 a perpetual conflict to keep the moths out of them. 
 Come down to my cabin, Rob, and we '11 see what 
 we can find. Good-night, Miss Amy ! " 
 
 They descended the tree warily, and stopped for 
 a moment under the oaks. With the setting of the 
 moon the night had grown very dark. Coming out 
 of the bright lamplight, they had to wait a moment 
 to accustom their eyes to the darkness. 
 
 Mr. PauPs ear, trained to all mountain sounds, 
 caught the sharp clink of a horseshoe against a rock 
 in the distance. He waited, listening. 
 
 "There is a body of horsemen coming up the trail 
 from the valley," he said. 
 
 The boy trembled. Weeks of flight from arrest 
 and constant fear of apprehension had shaken his 
 young nerves instead of hardening them. 
 
 "The officers! " he whispered. 
 
 "Wait a little, Rob, and hark." 
 
 And now they could hear the sound of men's 
 voices coming up the hillside, and again these had 
 paused, debating together, at a point below. 
 
 "I think this road will take us there," said one. 
 
 "I don't trust roads that I don't know," said an 
 other. "Better keep to the trail. It 's more direct, 
 and I know will carry us there." 
 
 "Perhaps I 'd better give myself up, Mr. Paul." 
 
 "By no means. It maybe only a party of hunters
 
 * BOY AND MAN 183 
 
 going over the range," said Mr. Paul. "But it's 
 as well to keep on the safe side. Be off to my 
 house. Follow the trail, and you '11 go straight to 
 the cabin. If you hear me whistle, take to the 
 chaparral above. We must protect you from arrest 
 until you have a chance to communicate with Nor- 
 cross," he explained. "I think I'll let Hercules 
 loose to serve as a sort of outpost. You needn't 
 be afraid of his attacking you. He 's seen you with 
 me." 
 
 The great dog was loosed, and with a bound and 
 a furious bay, tore off down the hill toward the val 
 ley, while the boy disappeared in the darkness.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 AN OLD FRIEND 
 
 AN excited chorus from the horsemen proved that 
 the big dog was successfully holding them in check. 
 
 "Don't run, Sedgwick! It's always safer to 
 face an animal like that. Nice fellow! Good, 
 goo-od doggie! Come here! There 's a clever fel 
 low. Get out, you ugly brute ! Is there room on 
 that branch for me, Sedgwick?" 
 
 "Don't take the gun, Blake. Give him one over 
 the head with the tripod." 
 
 This latter speech relieved Mr. Paul's fears. 
 Posses of officers, trailing their prey through moun 
 tain wilds, do not usually include tripods in their 
 armament. 
 
 "Halloa there!" 
 
 "Coming, gentlemen." 
 
 Mr. Paul hurried down the hillside. 
 
 "Dick Fowler, upon my word! " 
 
 "Bless my soul, Paul! How do you happen to 
 be up here? Been establishing that retreat or her 
 mitage you used to talk of ? " 
 
 "I have a little shanty up the gulch," returned 
 the young man modestly. "But how do you hap 
 pen up here at this time of year? Going to make 
 the survey of this township ? " 
 
 "Not yet. We 're on our way over the range,
 
 AN OLD FRIEND 185 
 
 where some wrangling Englishmen have put up for 
 a survey of land not worth two bits a square league. 
 Is that your dog? " 
 
 "I'm acquainted with him," replied Mr. Paul 
 discreetly. 
 
 " Thank Heaven ! I 'm delighted to meet with 
 even a distant acquaintance of the monster's. Is 
 your acquaintance of sufficient standing to justify 
 you in calling him off? You see he 's got my tran- 
 sitman up a tree, and has scattered the rest of my 
 force throughout the brush. I 've exhausted all my 
 blarney on him, and, failing in fair measures, was 
 about to try foul, when you opportunely for the 
 dog arrived." 
 
 "Here, Hercules!" shouted Mr. Paul, following 
 the command with a whistle. 
 
 The great dog instantly obeyed the call, leaping 
 and frolicking about him like a puppy. 
 
 "The ravening beast is subdued," announced 
 Fowler oracularly. "Now, gentlemen, I think you 
 may advance without further risk to life or limb. 
 Zaccheus, come down out of your tree ! " 
 
 The man with the tripod, a stout, clumsy fellow, 
 descended from his high perch amid the shouts of 
 his comrades. 
 
 "Oh, you may laugh if you like, boys," he said, 
 "but I tell you it was a matter of life or death. 
 The beast all but had me by the leg. As it was, 
 he got a good piece of my garments." 
 
 "I was never more serious in my life, Sedgwick," 
 avowed his chief. "In truth, it was a valiant re 
 treat. For all that, I 'm convinced, from the way
 
 186 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 you lit up that tree, that you 're planning to desert 
 the profession for the circus ring. What '11 you 
 take to repeat the performance, Sedgwick? " 
 
 "All I can say is that I 've got to lay up for re 
 pairs before I cross the range. I 'd have provided 
 .myself with a suit of armor, if I'd known such 
 bloody attacks as this were to be expected," grum 
 bled Sedgwick; and now they could see by the 
 starlight that he was holding one hand behind 
 him, a performance rendered necessary to conceal 
 sundry ravages in his apparel made by Hercules' 
 teeth. This discovery was greeted with another 
 roar of laughter. 
 
 "The most opportune meeting in the world!" 
 exclaimed Fowler, clapping Mr. Paul on the shoul 
 der. " First you save us from annihilation at the 
 fangs of this ferocious monster, then you present 
 yourself in the guise of an angel of mercy, to heal 
 the devastation he has wrought; for, being a bache 
 lor, you of course have a needle and a waxed end 
 always at hand, and will place them at poor Sedg 
 wick 's disposal." 
 
 " Gentlemen, my poor cabin and all its contents 
 are at your command. If any of you want a little 
 arnica or court-plaster, or a piece of boiler-plate, 
 you 're welcome to all you can find." 
 
 "That's hospitality of a royal sort!" cried the 
 merry Fowler. Then, more seriously, he remarked : 
 " I wonder you find it necessary to keep such a for 
 midable guardian up in this Arcadian region." 
 
 "I think I told you he was only a passing ac 
 quaintance of mine," said Mr. Paul impatiently.
 
 AN OLD FRIEND 187 
 
 "The truth is, I have a neighbor^ and my neighbor 
 has the dog." 
 
 They had reached the head of the bridle-path, 
 and the paper cottage could be dimly seen in the 
 starlight, nestling like a dovecote in the oak's shel 
 tering arms. 
 
 "By George! What's that light in the tree? 
 Ghosts?" queried one. 
 
 "It's only a cottage. A paper cottage," quoth 
 Mr. Paul. 
 
 "How in creation did it come up there?" 
 
 "Oh, it was originally set on the ground. Mov 
 ing up there was an afterthought," was the consid 
 erate and discreet reply. 
 
 The men stood still and marveled. 
 
 "Is it your house?" asked Fowler. 
 
 "No, my neighbor's," explained Mr. Paul. 
 "Mine is further on." 
 
 The curtains of the cottage were drawn, but a 
 light could be observed, dimly burning within. Mr. 
 Paul spoke aloud, and cheerily, that the anxieties 
 of the lonely watcher might be relieved. " Of course 
 you '11 put up with me to-night." 
 
 "If it won't be an imposition " 
 
 " And you can survive my hard floors and humble 
 fare! No pate defoie gras up here, Dick." 
 
 "As we expect to live on bacon and beans for 
 the next six weeks, we ought to be able to get along 
 without any flummeries for breakfast. Are you 
 really established up here, Paul ? Actually turned 
 ranchman and following the plough? " 
 
 "I 'm afraid the plough doesn't enjoy much fol-
 
 188 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 lowing, but I 've been up here two years, and mean 
 to stay, Dick." 
 
 The cabin, dark and silent, seemed to rise out of 
 the ground as they approached under cover of the 
 tall trees. Only the host perceived the dark figure 
 that moved towards the rear as they climbed the 
 steps. He struck a light, and excusing himself, 
 went into a back room and thence to a rear door, 
 where he passed out a roll of blankets to the lad 
 waiting there, saying quietly : 
 
 "It 's all right, Rob. Nothing but a party of 
 surveyors passing over the hills, an old friend of 
 mine in charge of the outfit. They '11 be off at day 
 break to-morrow. Good-night, my boy. Hurry 
 back to your sister." 
 
 While the other men wrapped themselves in their 
 blankets and bestowed themselves in divers nooks 
 for a good rest, the two friends sat up far into the 
 night. 
 
 In the course of their conversation, Fowler drew 
 out a shabby -looking leather-bound book, and after 
 consulting some dim notes, turned to Mr. Paul as 
 one who asks the solution of a problem. 
 
 "I thought my memory couldn't have failed me, 
 Paul, and my old field-notes confirm my recollec 
 tion. Unless I 've gone astray on all landmarks in 
 the darkness, this should be just about the geo 
 graphical centre of the half -section you selected for 
 settlement when we were up here together." 
 
 "I think it is," said Mr. Paul. 
 
 "And your lines are about half a mile to the 
 east and west."
 
 AN OLD FRIEND 189 
 
 "As nearly as I can calculate," returned the 
 young man, "my cabin is pretty close to the mid 
 dle." 
 
 "Then how in the name of common sense does 
 that house come here, less than twenty rods away, 
 in that tree on the mesa above? " 
 
 "My neighbor put it there," replied the young 
 man meekly. 
 
 "With your consent?" 
 
 "Nobody did me the honor of asking ' my con 
 sent.'" 
 
 "Hang it! You don't mean to say some one got 
 ahead of you in the matter of settlement? That 
 would break down your entry, make you liable to 
 trespass." 
 
 "As nearly as I can make out," explained Mr. 
 Paul, "our acts of settlement were simultaneous." 
 
 "That makes a deuce of a case. Could n't you 
 bluff him?" 
 
 "My neighbor is not to be bluffed." 
 
 "And in possession, too, which makes nine tenths 
 of any case. Of course you both have the same 
 advantage, so far as that goes; but when it comes 
 to a contest, two men, each with the proverbial nine- 
 tenths' hold on the title to oppose to each other, 
 make up the ugliest kind of a situation." 
 
 "I judge so," said Mr. Paul. 
 
 Fowler ruminated for a while. At length his 
 face brightened. 
 
 "Do you remember that corral we built here 
 abouts, of brush and logs, to confine our animals 
 when we camped up here three or four years ago? "
 
 190 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "I remember very well," said Mr. Paul. 
 
 "Is that corral still in existence? " 
 
 "It is. With a little mending I make it serve 
 the same purpose to-day." 
 
 "Then you've got 'em!" shouted Fowler joy 
 fully. 
 
 "How's that?" 
 
 "That corral constituted an act of settlement. 
 All you 've got to do is to go before the Register 
 and swear to the building of that corral four years 
 ago, and you '11 knock their claim higher 'n a kite." 
 
 "You feel sure of this?" asked Mr. Paul doubt 
 fully. 
 
 "Sure? Why, man, it's the whole thing in a 
 nutshell. It 's absolutely conclusive. In such cases 
 everything turns on ' priority of settlement. ' And 
 you 've got me for a witness." 
 
 "I don't doubt that your word would carry great 
 weight, Fowler," said Mr. Paul weakly. "I'm 
 sure I 'm much obliged. But I would n't like to 
 tax you " 
 
 "Tax be hanged!" returned Fowler more heart- 
 tily than elegantly, for he had grown enthusiastic in 
 the espousal of his friend's cause. "I '11 do more. 
 There 's no use in your being bothered with this 
 confounded interloper any longer. Before we start 
 up the mountains to-morrow, I '11 go over and see 
 him myself. I '11 climb his tree and beard him in 
 his paper house, and I '11 explain to him his exact 
 legal status. I 've got the United States Land 
 Laws at my tongue's end. I '11 quote him every 
 section and every amendment to every section, if
 
 AN OLD FRIEND li)l 
 
 he wants to hear 'em. I '11 show him that he 's no 
 thing more nor less than a squatter. I '11 tell him 
 he 's rendering himself liable to damages for tres 
 pass every hour he remains here, that you can 
 bring claims against him for rent and pasture and 
 the deuce knows what not. Oh, you leave him to 
 me. I '11 scare him out of his boots ! " 
 
 "Fowler really you '11 do me a favor if you 
 won't go near this neighbor of mine. I 'd rather 
 go about the thing peacefully, don't you know? 
 The survey 's not made yet. There 's no occasion 
 for stirring up trouble." 
 
 The embarrassed manner in which Mr. Paul 
 uttered these protests, his craven attitude upon the 
 subject of his rights, perplexed his friend. 
 
 "Old fellow, this is n't like you. I never thought, 
 Paul, you would stand tamely by and submit to 
 such imposition. Indeed, I used to think you some 
 thing of a fire-eater. What sort of a desperado is 
 it that has quartered himself upon you ? I 'm curi 
 ous to see the fellow. I think I '11 pay him a visit 
 to-morrow morning, in spite of your objections." 
 
 "It isn't a desperado. It is a woman!" said 
 Mr. Paul. 
 
 It was the surveyor's turn to exhibit a craven 
 spirit. 
 
 "A woman! A woman and a land claim I I'll 
 be hanged if I go to see her ! " 
 
 Fowler paced the room in excitement, upsetting 
 the little Japanese god in the course of his peregri 
 nations. 
 
 " A woman, eh ? Then you 're in for it, old f el-
 
 192 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 low. A woman and a homestead claim! Heaven 
 preserve us ! I '11 keep as far out of the case as / 
 can. Don't you be summoning me as a witness, 
 mind you ! The bravest officer in the special ser 
 vice of the General Land Office, and the most effi 
 cient, once told me that he 'd rather face an armed 
 troop of cowboys trying to hold down a range, than 
 one woman with a homestead claim to contest. Do 
 you know what I 'd advise you to do in this case, 
 old boy? Light out, while your scalp's whole. 
 The longer you stay, the dearer you '11 rue it." 
 
 Before the two men parted the following morning, 
 they stood alone together in Mr. Paul's great living- 
 room. 
 
 The black curtain, seen by daylight and in sharp 
 contrast to the bright sunlight without, which laid 
 a flickering bar across the floor, looked grimmer 
 than by lamplight. There was something so de 
 pressing in its sinister folds that Fowler shuddered 
 as he looked upon it. 
 
 "Paul," he said, speaking earnestly and laying 
 his arm affectionately on the other's shoulder, "I 
 think I understand. But why do you keep the dis 
 mal thing hanging there, forever before your vision ? 
 If you have given up everything, burn your bridges 
 behind you. Separate yourself from every reminder 
 of the past." 
 
 "You can't understand, Fowler. No one but my 
 self can comprehend," returned his host. "I 've no 
 idea of mounting a death's-head at my feast, a sym 
 bol of mortality to damp all earthly joys. I 'm not 
 of a morbid temperament, Fowler, but this thing has
 
 AN OLD FRIEND 193 
 
 struck deep into my life. I keep the black curtain 
 here, and what is behind it, as the pagans of old 
 used to carry about with them the ashes of their 
 loved and lost." 
 
 "As well build a house upon a grave! " muttered 
 the surveyor, but his words did not reach Mr. 
 Paul, who, dismissing the subject abruptly, as he 
 invariably repulsed any reference to the black cur 
 tain, had stepped to the window and was consulting 
 the sky. 
 
 " We shall have rain, Fowler, rain before night. 
 Do you see that gray fringe drifting along the sierra, 
 from where it dips down into the sea? Rain always 
 comes when that ragged fringe trails along the 
 mountains." 
 
 "Then we must be stirring. I want to make 
 camp ten miles up the Las Cruces Canon before 
 night," cried Fowler, rolling up his blankets and 
 proceeding to arrange his pack.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 AN APPEAL FOR CLEMENCY 
 
 "Now, Kob," said Mr. Paul, a little later that 
 same forenoon, "under what circumstances did you 
 leave the employ of Norcross?" 
 
 "After I took the bonds, they were United 
 States four per cents. , Mr. Paul, I was in misery 
 every hour, knowing their loss would be discovered, 
 sooner or later. I couldn't bear to look Captain 
 Norcross or any of the men in the face. So I threw 
 up my place : told him I could n't stand the indoor 
 work, and had a chance to take a place on a coffee 
 plantation down in Guatemala. That was the place 
 I was aiming for when I came here, you know." 
 
 "And how did you learn that the theft had been 
 discovered and fixed on you?" 
 
 "Why, it stands to reason the bonds would be 
 missed, and I knew it would be a clear case against 
 me from the first," answered the boy, wide-eyed. 
 " All the others were trusted old employees, had 
 been with Norcross for years. As for knowing the 
 officers were following me, I tell you I have n't 
 taken a step since I left San Francisco that I have n't 
 been conscious men were dogging me. At every 
 town and station I 've stopped, there ? s been a man 
 on the lookout. I 've been quizzed and followed, 
 and hunted right and left. Sometimes I think Nor-
 
 AN APPEAL FOR CLEMENCY 195 
 
 cross has followed me all the way, playing with me 
 as a cat with a mouse, ready to clap his hand on 
 me the moment I start to leave the country." 
 
 "If this is so, don't you think it 's a little strange 
 that there hasn't been a single word in the daily 
 papers about either the loss of the bonds or your 
 flight? " 
 
 " If there has n't ! But are you sure ? I have n't 
 seen anything but a stray paper now and then," 
 said Rob thoughtfully. 
 
 "Your sister tells me that she has kept a careful 
 watch on the papers ever since the letter you sent 
 her, you know when ! and she 's sure there 
 has n't been a line on the subject. How do you 
 account for that? " 
 
 "I don't know, I 'm sure. It isn't like Norcross 
 to spare a fellow's feelings or name when he has 
 a clear case against him." 
 
 "But suppose this isn't a clear case. Suppose 
 that all the detectives you have met and the men 
 on the lookout for you have been mere phantoms 
 of your own uneasy conscience. You yourself say 
 there were others who knew the combination of the 
 safe, others who had access to it. How do you know 
 but that the loss was not discovered until it seemed 
 plain that the bonds must have been taken at a date 
 subsequent to your employment in the company's 
 service?" 
 
 "I never thought of that," said Rob. 
 
 "It appears to me quite within the range of possi 
 bility that you may not have been so much as sus 
 pected," remarked Mr. Paul. "The evidence may
 
 196 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 seem to point clearly to some other man's crime. 
 They may never gather sufficient evidence to convict 
 him, or even to arrest him upon. He may merely 
 rest under suspicion all the rest of his life. Under 
 the circumstances, why should you incriminate your 
 self by writing to Norcross?" 
 
 The boy had been listening attentively. At this 
 suggestion he raised his head and his eyes blazed. 
 
 "Let an innocent man suffer for my fault? I 'd 
 rather go to prison all the rest of my life ! " he 
 cried. 
 
 "You're the right stuff, Kob," said Mr. Paul 
 quietly. 
 
 He brought paper and pen and ink, and set them 
 before the boy. 
 
 " Tell him in your own language and in your own 
 way," he advised. "Don't mince matters, or try 
 to excuse yourself." 
 
 There is not space here to set down the labored 
 epistle in which Robert Judith made confession to 
 his old employer of the dastardly wrong he had done 
 him, and humbly asked for time in which to restore 
 what he had taken. To own one's error under the 
 pressure of a verbal inquiry, be it kind or harsh, is 
 a wholly different matter from deliberately volun 
 teering, in black and white, the story of a man's 
 undoing. Beads of sweat stood on the lad's fore 
 head when he had finished, and the hand which held 
 out the sheets to Mr. Paul trembled as if the muscles 
 had been put to some hard strain. 
 
 " A good, straightforward statement ! " was the 
 young man's only comment, but the look of friendly
 
 AN APPEAL FOR CLEMENCY 197 
 
 confidence that accompanied it warmed the heart of 
 the youth, who but the day before had felt himself 
 an outcast from his kind. 
 
 Days must necessarily elapse before an answer 
 could be expected. This period of waiting was one 
 of almost intolerable suspense to the lad, and only 
 a degree less trying to his sister and Mr. Paul. 
 Would Captain Norcross appreciate the boy's frank 
 confession and the manner in which he had cast 
 himself upon his mercy, and show him compassion, 
 allowing him a reasonable time in which to make 
 up the sum he had taken ; or would he, enraged and 
 vindictive, at once place the young fellow under 
 arrest, and see that he had meted out to him the full 
 penalty of the law, making of him an example to 
 evil-doers, a warning and a menace to his remain 
 ing employees? 
 
 The mail route that connected the Vernal Hills 
 with the city was devious and roundabout. They 
 reckoned that fully a week might pass before the 
 answer from Norcross could reach them, for that a 
 prompt response would certainly be sent to a com 
 munication of such a character they could not doubt. 
 When a week and two days had elapsed, and still 
 there was no word from the stern old captain, the 
 delay seemed inexplicable. 
 
 In these days Rob wandered about like an uneasy 
 spirit, unable to settle down to any fixed plan or 
 routine of work, feeling each hour pregnant with 
 grim possibilities. His sister and Mr. Paul did 
 what they could to interest him and to divert his 
 mind, but upon all rested the shadow of foreboding.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 A MOUNTAIN OF GOLD 
 
 "ROB, I want to send a messenger over the sierra 
 to Fowler. Some dispatches have come for him, 
 and I must get them to him at the earliest possible 
 moment. How would you like to undertake the 
 trip?" 
 
 Rob hailed this diversion with relief. 
 
 "If you think I can find my way!" he said 
 modestly. 
 
 "You couldn't lose it, or get far off the trail, if 
 you tried. Now and then you '11 find a path branch 
 ing off to some claim or ranch, but they are little 
 traveled, and if you chance to go astray, a few 
 minutes will set you right. If you start at daylight 
 to-morrow, my sorrel will easily carry you to old 
 Ortega's place before nightfall, and a couple of 
 hours' travel the next morning will take you up the 
 Las Cruces Canon, where Fowler is encamped." 
 
 Moody and depressed, Rob started out on his 
 journey, but before he had reached the summit of 
 the range, the elasticity of boyhood had asserted 
 itself, and he was in buoyant spirits. It was im 
 possible not to feel the exhilaration of the hills. 
 The great solitudes, the sweet silences, the com 
 manding heights, lifted his soul into a new altitude. 
 What were temptations and weaknesses, that they
 
 A MOUNTAIN OF GOLD 199 
 
 could not be resisted? What were trials and hu 
 miliations, that they could not be patiently borne ? 
 What was calamity, that it could not be bravely 
 met? 
 
 In the smiling valley nestling beside the shining 
 sea, in the busy towns which scattered like the 
 crested waves of some great storm-tossed ocean be 
 yond, were infinite possibilities of usefulness, of 
 honorable conquest, of achievement. 
 
 Had some wise philosopher studied how best to 
 heal a human soul sore wounded and defeated in 
 the world's harsh conflict, he could not have pre 
 scribed a better tonic than this lonely ride amid 
 the wilds of the Coast Range. Self-communion is 
 a discipline which weak natures successfully avoid 
 when surrounded by the thousand and one distrac 
 tions of city life, yet it is the corner-stone of char 
 acter-building, and no great nature, sound, massive 
 and well poised, was ever reared without it. 
 
 The meals he prepared for himself on the way 
 may have been ill cooked and more poorly served, 
 but it seemed to Rob that nothing he had ever 
 eaten in a city restaurant could compare in flavor 
 with the crisp, half -burned slices of bacon and cup 
 of hot coffee made ready over a bunch of dry twigs 
 beside the trail. No sleep was ever sweeter than 
 the rest he enjoyed on the earth floor of Juan 
 Ortega's adobe dwelling. 
 
 At the surveyors' camp he was greeted with a 
 hearty welcome, for he brought not only the dis 
 patches, but mail and newspapers to men who were 
 cut off from civilization. Fowler urged him to
 
 200 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 prolong his stay and go hunting with the party up 
 a branch of the stream where they were encamped, 
 promising him a wild-cat skin or two, with a chance 
 of seeing a grizzly, but the sky looked threaten 
 ing, and Rob reflected that it would never do to 
 get caught forty miles away from any settlement 
 and over impassable trails, with the letter from 
 Norcross awaiting him, and regretfully declined the 
 invitation. 
 
 Feeling sure of his route on his return trip, he 
 had more leisure to observe the country through 
 which he was traveling. It seemed strange to find 
 himself so near the coast and convenient to seaports, 
 and yet in this vast, unpeopled region. Owing to 
 the range that rose westward, shutting off the sea, 
 the district was subject to greater extremes of heat 
 and cold in summer and winter. But a few hun 
 dred feet above Fowler's camp, snow was already 
 lying in shaded gulches, cumbering the boughs of 
 tall pines with its fleecy mantle. Yet this was a 
 region of splendid altitudes, rivaling the coast strip 
 in climatic advantages, well watered and wooded, 
 and dotted with countless fertile little valleys which 
 might easily be made to provide support for a large 
 population. That it had at one time been densely 
 populated was demonstrated by the abounding relics 
 telling of vanished races, great tumuli marking the 
 site of ruined villages, broken stone implements, 
 and dim paintings on towering cliffs. 
 
 Rob paid little heed to these signs and tokens. 
 His eyes were more frequently fixed on the rugged 
 heights bounding the northern horizon, often barren
 
 A MOUNTAIN OF GOLD 201 
 
 to their summits and royally tinted with rose, 
 purple, yellow, green, blue, all the colors of the 
 rainbow. Was it possible that nature had created 
 these majestic hills as so many useless barriers, 
 barren, unproductive, interrupting communication 
 and traffic? Were they not rather mammoth store 
 houses of treasure, to which no man had yet found 
 the key? 
 
 The thought fascinated the boy. Sometimes he 
 observed, afar off, towering heights of a pale rock 
 formation banded with the green of malachite. 
 Other cliffs were rose-red in spots, looking as if 
 monstrous rubies had found a setting in their bos 
 oms. One distant peak presented a solid front of 
 glistening white. Near at hand, the ledges were 
 weather-worn and moss-grown, and yielded little 
 satisfaction when he clipped off fragments in pass 
 ing, but along the banks of small streams which he 
 crossed, he picked up fragments of quartz, jasper, 
 and feldspar, many tinted, and in some measure 
 portraying the glories of the hidden ledges from 
 which they had been torn. 
 
 That night he encamped, from choice, on the 
 shore of the Santa Ysabel, that broad river which 
 fifty miles further north, after many stately wind 
 ings and turnings, finds its outlet in the Pacific 
 Ocean. A projecting rock offered an ideal shelter, 
 and there Rob spread his blankets, while his horse 
 grazed upon the luxuriant grasses that fringed the 
 river. 
 
 There were trout in the stream, but he had no 
 fishing-tackle, and could only watch their glistening
 
 202 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 shapes dart past him as he breakfasted the next 
 morning. The stream, shallow and dwindling to 
 a mere thread in summer, was now swollen with 
 winter rains. Above his camping-place it rippled 
 through a narrow, rocky channel, and at the point 
 of its exit a hill of red earth or clay rose to a con 
 siderable height, distinctly contrasting with the soil 
 about him, which was a sandy alluvial on the bottom 
 lands and a black leaf mould on the hillside. 
 
 Watching the yellow sands as the river rippled 
 over them, Rob remembered having seen, on his 
 trip along the ocean beach, the profitable placer 
 mining for years conducted by Chinamen above and 
 below this river's mouth. The gold found in these 
 placer claims was washed down from the mountains 
 through which he was now traveling, but although 
 experienced prospectors had searched them time 
 and again, no quartz ledge could be found which 
 would account for the presence of the precious metal 
 in such quantities on the beach. Yet if the gold 
 were actually carried down by the river and depos 
 ited along the sands of the ocean beach, why should 
 not similar deposits occur higher up, at the place 
 where he was sitting, for instance? He resolved 
 that as soon as he had finished his breakfast he 
 would take his frying-pan and wash a little of the 
 sand, as the miners were accustomed to try fresh 
 places along the beach. 
 
 With this fascinating sport in prospect, it is to 
 be feared that he made quick work of the remain 
 der of his meal. As soon as he had drained his 
 tin coffee-cup, he began to scoop a hole in the sand
 
 A MOUNTAIN OF GOLD 203 
 
 with it, this and his shallow frying-pan being his 
 only available utensils. Although water seeped in 
 and filled the hole almost as fast as he could bail 
 it, he came at length to a streak of black magnetic 
 sand, which he recognized as the gold-bearing de 
 posit in the Chinese diggings. This he ladled into 
 the pan, rocking it and swashing it about in the 
 shallow water as he had seen the miners do. It 
 was slow and discouraging work, for the pan held 
 but a handful of sand, and although he filled it 
 again and again, not the slightest "color" rewarded 
 his exertions. 
 
 Eob now advanced up the river-bank, scooping 
 other holes and making repeated tests, but the re 
 sult was always the same. When he reached the 
 point where the red hill interrupted the course of 
 the stream, he eyed it curiously. It seemed to be 
 composed of a stiff, pasty material in which small 
 pebbles and fragments of rock were imbedded. 
 
 "You're queer-looking stuff, but I'm going to 
 have a try at you ! " he cried. 
 
 The clay was peculiarly tenacious, and he was 
 obliged to take his jackknife from his pocket and 
 pick away at it before he could loosen it. When 
 he had secured a fragment, he pulverized it between 
 some smooth, water-worn stones before placing it 
 in the pan. Then he stooped down beside the 
 river, extending it at arm's length and rocking it 
 mechanically, paying little attention to its contents, 
 but watching the trout as they flashed up and down 
 stream. After a while he saw that the earth had 
 been washed away, and that the pan was empty. He
 
 204 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 listlessly looked at the bottom before refilling it, "to 
 give the red hill another chance," as he mentally 
 phrased it. 
 
 Empty ? What were those glittering yellow par 
 ticles lying on the black iron? He bent close to 
 the pan and counted one, two, three, four! Tilting 
 the pan to one side, he counted again, with the same 
 result. Perhaps it was only mica, "fool's gold." 
 He poured a little water over the yellow grains. 
 Mica does not lie, dull and heavy, in the bottom of 
 a pan, with a current of water flowing over it. 
 
 Amazed at this result, not daring to credit the 
 evidence of his senses, Rob spread out his hand 
 kerchief and laid the yellow grains upon it. He 
 dug out another chunk of the red clay and washed 
 it in the pan, very circumspectly this time, tilting 
 it carefully, and vigilantly watching lest an unwary 
 movement should wash earth and all into the river. 
 When the clay began to dissolve and mire the 
 water, he cautiously removed the pebbles with his 
 fingers, and afterwards picked out the tinier frag 
 ments of rock with painstaking touch. This time 
 there were a full half dozen of the yellow particles 
 in the bottom of the pan. 
 
 Hour after hour the lad continued his labors, 
 undisturbed by any passing travelers. It was only 
 when a light mist began to fall, and he realized that 
 the promised storm was at last upon him, that he 
 packed up his traps and began the ascent of the 
 Vernal Hills. 
 
 Robert Judith was a good enough arithmetician 
 to be able to calculate an approximate measurement
 
 A MOUNTAIN OF GOLD 205 
 
 of the red hill. He realized that if a few spoonfuls 
 of earth, handled by inexperienced hands and with 
 the awkward utensils he had used, could yield half 
 a thimbleful of gold, there was untold wealth in 
 the entire hill, with its thousands upon thousands 
 of tons. 
 
 He had gone up into the mountains a beggar 
 and an outcast, trembling before the prospect of 
 arrest for a beggarly sum of misappropriated funds. 
 He was returning a Croesus, with unlimited riches 
 waiting only for his taking. How absurd seemed 
 the troubles which had weighted him down! He 
 could pay back the trifling sum he had taken from 
 old Norcross ten times over could buy him out 
 defy him in the courts. He 'd only like to see Nor 
 cross attempt to dictate terms to him ! 
 
 Generous thoughts mingled with these trium 
 phant reflections. Amy should never know another 
 want or care. He would build her a beautiful 
 home, surround her with every luxury, do every 
 thing in his power to make her life a bright and 
 easy one. If people were not disposed to treat him 
 civilly or showed any inclination to throw up his 
 old mistake at him, they would just leave the coun 
 try altogether, he and Amy, and take up quarters 
 in some gay foreign capital, London or Paris. A 
 fellow he had once known, who had got into some 
 trouble in San Francisco, had gone to Paris and 
 was living like a prince there, he had heard. In 
 those foreign capitals people were not so confound 
 edly impertinent and prying as they were in Amer 
 ica. They were content to take a fellow for what
 
 206 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 he was. They didn't ask uncomfortable questions 
 about what he had been. 
 
 As for Mr. Paul, well, Mr. Paul had been a 
 pretty decent sort of fellow. He would take him 
 into the thing in some shape or other : perhaps give 
 him enpugh to set him up in business by and by. 
 
 He left the horse at Mr. Paul's cabin, which was 
 closed, and with a springing stride and a lordly air, 
 strode along the trail leading to the cottage and 
 climbed the steps leading to it. 
 
 Amy came to meet him, an expression of relief 
 and welcome dispersing the clouds on her troubled 
 face, as she saw him. Mr. Paul was there, and in 
 his hand he held an open letter.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 A STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT 
 
 "You have been gone so long. I 've been wor 
 ried to death about you. And you are wet and 
 tired, Kob." 
 
 "Nothing but a little dampness. It 's only on the 
 outside," said the boy indifferently. "And tired! 
 Not a bit of it ! I could tramp a dozen miles more. 
 In fact, I 've had such rare fun, I 'm thinking of 
 going back to-morrow morning." 
 
 Had fear and anxiety and the lonely journey 
 turned the young brain and the lad gone daft? 
 His hearers listened to him in amazement. 
 
 " I ' ve no doubt it is very novel and interesting 
 across the range, Rob," said Amy gently. "But 
 just now we have something of importance to con 
 sider. Mr. Norcross has written. You were not 
 here, and we didn't know when you would come. 
 So we thought it best to open the letter. I hope 
 you don't mind." 
 
 "Of course not. It's all one to me," returned 
 Rob flippantly. 
 
 "I knew when I saw the bulky envelope, Rob, 
 that its contents wouldn't be agreeable. When 
 people have kind acts to perform, they can gener 
 ally put their promises into few words. Still, we 
 had no right to expect anything better."
 
 208 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "What has the old man to say?" queried Rob 
 irreverently. 
 
 "It isn't a pleasant letter, Rob, and its terms 
 are hard," his sister went on, feeling that he should 
 be forewarned, if he fancied there would be an easy 
 way out of his difficulties. 
 
 " Oh, I expected he would try to make some kind 
 of a Shylock bargain. I was prepared for that," 
 returned Rob jauntily, reaching for the letter. 
 
 Amy could not understand the singular change in 
 his tone and manner, but her heart was like lead in 
 her bosom. 
 
 "A deuce of a hand!" declared Rob, examining 
 the superscription of the envelope. "There 's only 
 one thing more complex than the old captain's hand 
 writing, and that 's the inscription on the Rosetta 
 Stone." 
 
 Rob moved to a window to get in a better light, 
 and began the perusal of the closely written sheets. 
 
 The letter began as civilly and coldly as if it had 
 been addressed to one of the old gentleman's formal 
 business acquaintances : 
 
 MR. ROBERT JUDITH, 
 
 Dear Sir : Your letter of the inst. received 
 to-day, upon my return from a trip up country. I 
 will not dwell upon the painful shock of the intelli 
 gence it contains, nor expatiate upon the iniquity 
 of betraying the trust which I, as your employer, 
 reposed in you, for the simple reason that if you 
 have not already realized these for yourself, no 
 words of mine could make you feel them.
 
 A STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT 209 
 
 . . . Yet, whether you 're acting on your own 
 impulse or under advice, I like the spirit in you 
 which stands up to confess your fault and take its 
 consequences, and feel like meeting you halfway 
 and giving you a chance to redeem your error. . . . 
 I don't know whether it mightn't be considered 
 compounding a felony, to let you go scot-free from 
 punishment, but it seems to me a man does a better 
 service to society and to himself when he saves a 
 boy from wearing a felon's stripes and becoming 
 a charge upon the community, and at the same time 
 offers him an opportunity to make good the injury 
 he has done, than when he pockets his loss and puts 
 the offender behind the bars. So I '11 give you 
 twelve months to make those bonds good, Robert 
 Judith. Twelve months, no more; and the sum 
 must be repaid with interest in full. But I 'm not 
 making this concession as an empty form, intending 
 to let you off if you fail to raise the money. I '11 
 take your note for the amount, indorsed by some 
 responsible man. With the friends you have, you 
 should have no difficulty in securing this indorse 
 ment, if you go about the matter in earnest and 
 show an industrious and sober spirit. But mind 
 my words: It's only on parole I'm placing you. 
 I '11 have an eye on you all the time, and if you 
 don't keep your compact and the note is n't' met at 
 the expiration of that time, I '11 know you are not 
 sincere in making this proposition, and I will see 
 that you pay the full penalty of the law for your 
 offense. Truly yours, 
 
 EDWARD NORCROSS.
 
 210 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 P. S. I don't know whether you will care to 
 learn that your confession has relieved an innocent 
 man from suspicion. 
 
 The odd commingling of kindly impulse and keen 
 commercial interest, the queer philanthropy which 
 could find exercise only in strict harmony with the 
 writer's material interests, might at another time 
 have provoked the amusement of the three, but so 
 deeply absorbed were two of them in considering 
 the letter's provisions that they passed its incon 
 gruities in silence. 
 
 "One year's grace! It's a pretty short shrift, 
 Rob," said Mr. Paul. 
 
 "You can never do it! " cried Amy, in despair. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I can! " said Rob confidently. 
 
 "This is no question of ' can ' or ' can't.' We 
 must do it," said Mr. Paul. "But we '11 have to put 
 on our thinking-caps, my boy, and do some bright 
 planning, to work our way out in so short a time." 
 
 Through Rob's excited mind there coursed a con 
 viction that Mr. Paul was acting more than de 
 cently : he was really behaving handsomely in thus 
 frankly enlisting in a project to raise what must 
 seem to him poor fellow ! a prodigious sum of 
 money. And he evidently had a hard enough time 
 to scrub along himself, judging from the sorry look 
 of his garden, of which the boy had caught a pass 
 ing glimpse. He would do more than set Mr. Paul 
 up in business. He would take him in as a mining 
 partner, full and square division. 
 
 "I don't think we '11 have to plan so very hard,"
 
 A STARTLING ANNOUNCEMENT 211 
 
 said the young fellow, with what seemed to his 
 hearers a reckless bravado. 
 
 "Why, Rob, what are you thinking of? It's a 
 very large sum of ready money to raise, and our 
 resources are so limited. At the very best, we '11 
 have to plan, and contrive, and work our fingers off 
 to get it," said Amy chidingly. 
 
 "I don't propose to work or plan, but I 'm going 
 to have the money, piles of it, and to spare!" 
 said Rob tranquilly, sticking his hands in his pock 
 ets and looking down upon her; and the secret he 
 had brought back from the mountains was in his 
 sparkling eyes. 
 
 He pulled out a handkerchief, a boy's linen hand 
 kerchief with a ragged hem, now damp and grimy 
 and tied up in a wad. With nervous fingers he 
 undid the knot and spread its contents before Mr. 
 Paul's astonished eyes. 
 
 "What do you call that?" he demanded tri 
 umphantly. 
 
 Mr. Paul carried the handkerchief and its con 
 tents to the light. 
 
 "Call it?" he said pleasantly. "There's only 
 one metal that has that dull yellow sheen and weight. 
 I call it placer washings of the very richest sort. 
 No light flakes, but little compact grains that weigh 
 down like the miniature nuggets they are. Where 
 did you get them, Rob? " 
 
 "No, sir, I'm not going to think, or plan, or 
 work," said the boy rejoicingly, disregarding Mr. 
 Paul's inquiry. "I'm not going to do it because 
 I know an easier way of making money. I have 
 found a mountain of gold! "
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 ROB TELLS HIS STORY 
 
 "A MOUNTAIN of gold!" said Amy Judith in 
 credulously. 
 
 "A mountain of gold!" exclaimed Mr. Paul, 
 and in his voice there was also a skeptical note 
 which Rob did not fail to observe, and he silently 
 cut down Mr. Paul's share as a prospective partner. 
 
 "Yes, a mountain of gold," declared Rob, with 
 dignity. "At any rate, if this is gold, and even 
 Mr. Paul seems disposed to acknowledge it is, 
 there 's a small mountain of the same stuff where it 
 comes from." 
 
 "My dear boy," said Mr. Paul, "I'd like only 
 too well to have you find a whole mountain range 
 of gold, but when all the expert geologists in the 
 country and all the surviving Forty-niners have 
 prospected these mountains and assert that the 
 formation absolutely will not admit of its presence, 
 what am I to think? " 
 
 " Oh, think that I ' ve been tapping the till of 
 some old Greaser over there, as I did with old Nor- 
 cross." 
 
 The boy was so carried away by the excitement 
 of his remarkable discovery that he felt as if some 
 wheels in his head had been loosened, and was 
 scarcely responsible for his reckless speech.
 
 ROB TELLS HIS STORY 213 
 
 "Why, Rob! " said his sister, in a shocked voice. 
 
 Rob brought himself up with a round turn, 
 schooling himself to think steadily and to weigh his 
 words. 
 
 "I didn't realize what I was saying, Amy, 
 truly I didn't. I 've been so hopeless, and knocked 
 about in such rough places this month past, and 
 now to have this wonderful thing happen " 
 
 She understood, without need of any further ex 
 planation. She patted his hand gently, and Mr. 
 Paul ignored the rudeness of the speech. 
 
 " Where did you find it, and how did you come 
 to chance upon it, Rob?" 
 
 "I was thinking, all the way home, about the 
 gold strung along the beach at the mouth of the 
 Santa Ysabel River, and the mystery of where it 
 came from, for you know everybody says the river 
 brings it down. Then Fowler and his men were 
 stuffing me with a fable about the ' Padre's lost 
 mine, ' telling me how the old Mission fathers had 
 hoards of gold that they used to get somewhere up 
 in the mountains, and how one of them died and 
 the secret of the mine's location had been lost. I 
 did n't take any stock in the story, for I could see 
 they were guying me and trying to stir me up about 
 it. But it set me to thinking and watching out as 
 I came back." 
 
 "As thousands of men have thought and ' watched 
 out,' " said Mr. Paul smiling; "I among the num 
 ber, Rob. But go on with your tale." 
 
 " I chipped away at every rock and ledge I passed 
 within reach of, traveling on foot almost all the
 
 214 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 way," continued the boy. "But the most of them 
 were nothing but rotten old sandstone, and I was 
 disgusted. When I came to where the trail crosses 
 the river, I camped there for the night." 
 
 "Under the shelf of rock? I know the place." 
 
 "Close by there I saw a big hill of some red 
 stuff, that seemed to have risen out of the bed of 
 the river." 
 
 "I remember it," said Mr. Paul. "It is con 
 spicuous because it differs so from everything else 
 in the country around. Fowler and I picked away 
 at it a little. He said it took its color from the 
 cinnabar in it, but was n't rich enough to work for 
 quicksilver. And as quicksilver and gold are in 
 consistencies in any geological formation " 
 
 "I don't care a straw for inconsistencies or geo 
 logical formations," interrupted Rob somewhat in 
 coherently. "It's from that very hill that I took 
 all my 'pay dirt,' and if you don't believe me, 
 here 's a chunk of the dirt itself that I brought 
 along to show you." 
 
 Mr. Paul took the stuff in his hand. 
 
 " It certainly looks like the cinnabar earth Fowler 
 and I examined," he said quietly. 
 
 "There 's a monstrous lot of it, and the water 's 
 right there to wash it with," pursued Rob exult- 
 ingly. "It 's a big fortune right in sight." 
 
 "Blessings on you for a tenderfoot, Rob!" said 
 Mr. Paul. "No miner of experience would ever 
 have looked twice at that red hill. Learning and 
 experience are serious bars to progress. It 's the
 
 ROB TELLS HIS STORY 215 
 
 ignoramuses, who have nothing to unlearn, who are 
 making the world over, these days." 
 
 "I don't care where you rate me. It 's the shek 
 els I'm after," said the boy smartly. "Do you 
 wonder I snap my fingers at old Norcross now?" 
 
 Neither the man nor the woman answered. Over 
 Amy's face there swept an expression of keen pain. 
 Rob went on briskly : 
 
 " We ought to get ready to go over right away, 
 Mr. Paul. Don't you think so? The Chinamen 
 up around Point Sal have a simple way of washing 
 out the dirt with a string of riffles. There 's timber 
 over there, and it would be easy to build them on 
 the spot. It seems a pity to lose any time." 
 
 "You'll have to lose time now, Rob. There's 
 no crossing that trail in this weather, to say nothing 
 of the lack of shelter if we were there. Listen." 
 
 There was no need of this injunction. A heavy 
 shower was falling like a rain of bullets on the roof 
 of the paper house, making a deafening clatter. 
 
 "Here 's a pretty go! " exclaimed Rob fretfully. 
 
 "Merely a lesson in patience. We have to take 
 them all along the way," rejoined the young man. 
 
 Rob paid little attention to this speech. He 
 was examining the postscript to Captain Norcross' 
 letter. 
 
 "Hello! What's this? 'Relieved an innocent 
 man of suspicion ! ' My soul ! I wonder if it could 
 have been Brainerd. Brainerd 's the very pink of 
 propriety and uprightness," he explained, turning 
 to Mr. Paul. "And conscientious! Lord, how 
 conscientious! He wouldn't touch so much as a
 
 216 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 pin, if he had n't a clear title to it. Actually used 
 to lecture the boys when they took stamps for their 
 personal letters from the company's drawer! It 
 would be a rough one on old Brainerd, if they 
 thought he had taken the bonds."
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 "WATTING TILL THE CLOUDS PASS BY" 
 
 BEFORE Mr. Paul left that day, they held a seri 
 ous conference on the subject of the note exacted 
 by Norcross. 
 
 "I don't see any use fussing over that!" cried 
 Rob impatiently. "Just wait till this rain stops, 
 and we get over to that mountain of gold, and I '11 
 paralyze the old captain by meeting his demands a 
 year ahead of time." 
 
 "Norcross will expect an answer to his letter 
 inside of forty-eight hours," insisted Mr. Paul. 
 "Until he has the note and accepts it, he may count 
 himself free to retract his promise." 
 
 ".But the ' responsible person ' whom he requires 
 to indorse it! I don't see whom we could ask," 
 said Amy hopelessly. "We have n't a near relative 
 in the world. I can't think of a single friend upon 
 whom I would dare to call. And he requires it. 
 He will not accept the note unless he has the in 
 dorsement. He says so very positively." 
 
 "I wonder if he would accept me," said the young 
 man diffidently. 
 
 "You!" cried Rob, in a tone that was far from 
 complimentary. 
 
 Mr. Paul smiled. 
 
 "Before I lost my fairy purse, people had some
 
 218 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 confidence in me. It would be interesting to ascer 
 tain whether they have lost it. And I used to know 
 Norcross slightly, as I think I once told you, 
 Eob." 
 
 He did not add, as he might have done, that he 
 had once been the honored guest of this same mil 
 lionaire, and had sat at his host's right hand at a 
 dinner party where many prominent guests were as 
 sembled. Instead, he found himself seeking Amy 
 Judith's eyes, and was surprised to see that they 
 were filled with tears. Somehow, although she did 
 not clearly understand Mr. Paul's fable of the 
 magic purse, any reference to it always touched her 
 deeply. 
 
 That night the note was drawn up in due form, 
 Mr. Paul wrote his name upon the back, and, 
 adding a few lines to Norcross, himself sealed and 
 addressed the communication to the rich ship 
 owner. 
 
 This storm was a memorable one in the history 
 of the Vernal Hills. It was not only the heaviest 
 of the season, but it broke the Signal Service record, 
 bringing the heaviest rainfall registered in all that 
 region since the clerk of the weather went into office. 
 
 Along the coast, wharves and piers suffered great 
 damage, warehouses were flooded, and harbors 
 shoaled by the powerful currents of debris that 
 swept down from the mountains. Streams ran at 
 high flood-mark, fences and buildings and bridges 
 were carried away, cattle were drowned, and havoc 
 was played with every nicely cultivated hillside, the 
 ground being cut into vertical furrows to afford
 
 WAITING TILL THE CLOUDS PASS BY 219 
 
 channels for the rain, so that it looked as though 
 gigantic ploughs had taken their way straight down 
 the slopes. 
 
 The small brook running between Mr. Paul's 
 cabin and mesa, which had been completely dry all 
 the fall, overflowed its banks, making a torrent that 
 was for a few days impassable. 
 
 For six days and six nights the rain poured down 
 almost without cessation. At the end of that pe 
 riod the weather broke into April smiles and tears, 
 shower succeeding shower, with intervals of bright 
 sunshine between, until at length all the clouds 
 seemed to have wept themselves dry, and, changing 
 to white-winged craft, scudded off to the interior 
 valleys. 
 
 This period of waiting was a trying one to Miss 
 Amy. Rob, intolerant of delay in the realization 
 of a princely fortune, fumed and fretted over this 
 untimely dispensation of Providence. It mattered, 
 not to him that farmers and stockmen were rejoi 
 cing, that empty water-courses were being replen 
 ished, wells and reservoirs were filling, and the 
 thorough saturation of the ground was paving the 
 way for a season of unusual prosperity. He was 
 in a state of hot rebellion against every one and 
 everything, and divided his time between a savage 
 espionage of the sky from the shelter of the cottage 
 roof, and frequent trips to the village to learn the 
 latest forecasts of the weather bureau. 
 
 Incidentally, he ascertained the local mining-laws 
 regulating the taking up of placer claims, and pre 
 pared several elaborate notices to post upon the
 
 220 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 ground in the vicinity of his rich discovery, when 
 he should be able to begin operations. 
 
 During one of these absences, Mr. Paul, passing 
 the cottage, saw a fair face at the open door, 
 wearing a look of patient sorrow which went to his 
 heart. 
 
 "You are wearing your life out over that boy," 
 he said brusquely, as he entered. 
 
 "Oh, no. But he has been so long away. He 
 is changing so; this strange restlessness" 
 
 "Is nothing but boy nature. Leave him alone, 
 and he will find his balance," urged the young man, 
 with a confidence he was far from feeling. 
 
 "I am afraid oh, I am afraid " 
 
 The girl turned again to the window, her fair 
 head bowed as some delicate flower of the woods 
 bends before a harsh blast, and the young man 
 knew that tears were gathering in the wistful eyes. 
 
 With an impulsive movement he crossed the 
 room, standing so close beside her that her bright 
 head touched his breast as she lifted her face at his 
 touch. 
 
 There was infinite tenderness in his low speech : 
 
 "Amy, lay all your cares here. Let this be your 
 shelter for evermore." 
 
 For an instant her head rested there. A great 
 gladness coursed through the man's being. The 
 strength of Samson was in his veins; he felt all- 
 powerful to strive for, to defend, to cherish this 
 fair young existence whom a blessed Providence had 
 confided to his care. Like Samson, his strength 
 was slain, and by a woman's hands. For the girl
 
 WAITING TILL THE CLOUDS PASS BY 221 
 
 slipped from his clasp, her pale face aflame, the 
 keenest reproach in her eyes. Her voice rang out 
 stern and cold : 
 
 " Mr. Paul, remember ! Remember do you 
 think I have forgotten ? that evening at your 
 cabin the black curtain?" she cried incoher 
 ently, for in her mind the incident of the portrait 
 and the fantastic vision in which the curtain had 
 played its part were strangely confused. 
 
 All youth and hope seemed to die out of the 
 man's face at her words. 
 
 "You do well to remind me," he said. "The 
 shadow of the black curtain falls between me and 
 every joy in life." 
 
 Mystified by this speech, she was about to make 
 reply, when Rob threw open the door, his face 
 alight with joyful expectation. 
 
 " The storm is over. The bulletin has just come ! " 
 he cried.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE TREASURE-SEEKERS 
 
 ROB would have started across the range the next 
 day after the rain ceased, had not Mr. Paul pointed 
 out to him the folly of such an undertaking. 
 
 "The trail will be slippery as grease, and washed 
 away in places. We must wait for it to drain off 
 and dry. Besides, we shall have to pack over 
 supplies, if we expect to make an extended stay. 
 Moreover, you are forgetting one thing, Eob." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "We ought to hear from Norcross before going. 
 He may not accept my indorsement." 
 
 The boy colored. 
 
 "It seems a perfect farce, the whole thing, with 
 such prospects in sight. But of course Norcross 
 doesn't know." 
 
 " And would probably not accept ' prospects, ' if 
 he did know. These conservative rich men don't 
 often trade on anything but certainties. The very 
 suggestion of speculation is a bugbear to them." 
 
 "That's all right. I don't ask him to take an 
 interest. There are no shares for sale in this mine, 
 Mr. Paul," returned the boy gayly. "I dare say 
 you are right about wishing to hear from him, and 
 it was awfully good of you to indorse it. But I '11 
 make that good to you. You '11 see! "
 
 THE TREASURE-SEEKERS 223 
 
 "Look here, Rob," said Mr. Paul sharply, 
 "we'd better have a clear understanding about 
 this thing and done with it. I did n't put my name 
 to that note because you had a rich gold mine over 
 the range, nor even because you were a boy in seri 
 ous trouble. I did it because you were your sister's 
 brother." 
 
 This unexpected rejoinder gave Rob something to 
 think about, and for a time he ceased to vaunt the 
 glory of his prospective wealth. He even cheerfully 
 joined the young man in ploughing and planting a 
 hillside which the latter had cleared the preceding 
 fall, and which he had decided to put into Kaffir 
 corn, a new forage plant which he had been assured 
 would yield treble the amount of fodder to be ex 
 pected from barley. This hillside, being steep and 
 gravelly, had quickly drained, and looked nice and 
 mealy when the deep furrows had been harrowed 
 over the seed. 
 
 A day came which dawned bright and clear, and 
 Mr. Paul declared the trail in shape for traveling. 
 Their preparations were few and simple. If Rob 
 could have had his own way, he would have started 
 out with a pack-train incumbered with all manner 
 of baggage, tools, and supplies, procured on credit 
 on the strength of the glittering prospects ahead; 
 but the older man's prudent counsels prevailed. 
 
 "It 's a good principle to never spend your money 
 before you get it, my boy," he sagely advised. 
 
 "But we'll have to take picks and shovels and 
 blankets and things," Rob insisted. 
 
 "As we can't each be picking and shoveling at
 
 224 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 one and the same time, a tool apiece ought to be 
 enough. It 's not more than eight miles to the 
 river, and if you and I can't make the trip afoot, 
 we 're not worthy to be counted as millionaires, 
 Rob. My sorrel can carry a couple of hundred 
 pounds' pack, and this will include our blankets and 
 the few utensils we really need, as well as a week's 
 provisions. When we have put in a week's steady 
 work over there, we can plan more intelligently for 
 the future." 
 
 Mr. Paul proved an expert packer. Upon the 
 arms of the wooden pack-saddle he hung two great 
 rawhide sacks, in which were stored the provisions. 
 Bound along the animal's back, in parallel lines, 
 were the tools required for the expedition, while 
 above all rose a bale of bedding, surmounted by a 
 roll of rubber blankets designed for protection in 
 case of storms. Rob viewed the horse with a keen 
 appreciation of his ludicrous aspect. 
 
 "It looks like a good deal more pack than horse ! " 
 he declared merrily. 
 
 He laughed good-naturedly when he saw Mr. Paul 
 add to the pack a jointed rod of sumptuous work 
 manship, and carefully place in his pocket a case 
 of elaborate trout-flies. Evidently the young man 
 was a devoted disciple of the venerable Izaak. 
 
 "All right, if you want to take them. I don't 
 think, myself, we '11 have much time or inclination 
 for fishing!" remarked Rob, with lofty condescen 
 sion. 
 
 "Amy might enjoy a mess of trout when we come 
 back," said the young man quietly.
 
 THE TREASURE-SEEKERS 225 
 
 Rob was secretly amused at this very prosaic 
 consideration for his little sister's material wants. 
 He himself had much more ambitious plans for her, 
 and it was natural that homely considerations such 
 as these should be excluded from his more brilliant 
 projects. 
 
 They started out single file, one leading and the 
 other following the little sorrel. All things had 
 taken on a new aspect since the refreshing down 
 pour. The whole face of nature seemed to be newly 
 washed. In the higher altitudes tender plantlets 
 were already peeping through the moist earth, and 
 shrubs that clothed the northern slopes were taking 
 heart for another season's gracious endeavor, put 
 ting forth buds and blossoms. 
 
 Rob was a little depressed at the start. His sister 
 had parted from him with a singularly sad counte 
 nance, considering the joyful nature of his mission. 
 
 "I wonder if Amy thinks I 've deceived her about 
 this thing," he pondered. "Or more likely she 
 has no faith in Mr. Paul's judgment as a mineral 
 expert, and imagines we 're both deluded. Never 
 mind. I '11 buy her a necklace of diamonds as big 
 as pigeons' eggs, and she shall dress in silks and 
 velvets all the rest of her life. She shall have 
 everything heart can wish " 
 
 But here his reflections suddenly broke off. He 
 knew very well that there was one precious posses 
 sion, the dearest treasure of Amy Judith's in the 
 past, that no amount of money could either restore 
 or compensate her for. 
 
 Yet it was not in boy nature to resist the joyous
 
 226 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 influences of the day and hour. Rob laughed and 
 chattered and sang, as happy as any bird that 
 thrilled its spring song from rugged crag or leafy 
 perch, as care-free as the flowerets, poised on slen 
 der stems, which nodded greeting as they passed. 
 His strong young limbs bounded exultingly up the 
 steep ascent, making frequent excursions from the 
 trail in pursuit of fleeing squirrels and timorous 
 rabbits, or to spy out the house plans of some nest 
 ing feathered pair. 
 
 His companion plodded more slowly after. Rob, 
 looking behind him at a bend of the trail where 
 horse and rider were brought into picturesque relief, 
 sat down upon a rock and laughed uproariously. 
 
 "You make a gay old picture, you two!" he 
 shouted. "If a stranger were to come along, he 'd 
 put you down, sure, as relics of Joaquin Murietta's 
 band!" 
 
 Mr. Paul smiled at the comparison, which was 
 not at all far-fetched. In his worn corduroys, with 
 cartridge-belt around his waist, his slouched hat 
 with tattered crown and boots with flapping tops, 
 the young man did not look unlike a border ruffian 
 returning from some raid, to the success of which 
 the overladen hampers attested. 
 
 "Count yourself in, Rob!" he retaliated, laugh 
 ing. 
 
 "Oh, I 'm the chief ruffian and cut-throat of the 
 band!" declared Rob shamelessly. "This gaping 
 wound in my boot is the death-thrust of my dying 
 victim. This gory cut on my face," dramatically 
 raising his hand to where a chaparral thorn had left
 
 THE TREASURE-SEEKERS 227 
 
 an ugly scratch on his cheek, "was received in a 
 hand-to-hand conflict with the gallant senor whose 
 beautiful daughter I am carrying in a hamper to 
 my mountain lair." 
 
 "And if my ear does not deceive me, the enemy is 
 now after us in hot pursuit, heading off our escape, 
 and intent upon rescuing the maiden and slaying 
 her ruthless captor," cried Mr. Paul. 
 
 Listening, they heard the soft beat of hoofs on 
 the trail above them. A moment later, a solitary 
 figure, mounted on a burro, came in sight. 
 
 "One of Fowler's party, I vow! " exclaimed 
 Hob. "Now he '11 want to know where we 're going 
 and what we 're up to." 
 
 The traveler proved to be Sedgwick, who at once 
 confirmed Rob's apprehensions. 
 
 "Going over to camp? " he cried heartily. 
 "Fowler '11 be delighted to see you." 
 
 "Not so far this time, Mr. Sedgwick," returned 
 Mr. Paul. 
 
 "Hunting! " exclaimed the man, in surprise. 
 "I 'm afraid I can't give you much encouragement 
 as to prospects. Game 's scarce up our way. The 
 storm 's been tough in the hills, I can tell you. 
 Regular cloudburst in a canon near us, and it rounded 
 up with a fall of snow that seems to have scared all 
 the game out of the country. We have n't seen so 
 much as a rabbit for a fortnight. Even the cattle 
 have betaken themselves to unknown parts, and we 
 can't pick up so much as a maverick." 
 
 Mr. Paul silently held up his fishing-rod. 
 
 "Aha!" cried Sedgwick, comprehending. "A
 
 228 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 little in advance of the legal season, but never mind, 
 I '11 not peach. On the whole, I congratulate you 
 on not undertaking to make Las Cruces Canon 
 to-day. It 's a deuce of a trip. Do you know upon 
 what weighty commission I 'm making this sixty- 
 mile journey, risking life and limb, and hazarding 
 my amiable temper?" 
 
 "Letters? Telegrams? Coffee given out ?" ven 
 tured Eob. 
 
 "Oh, a few of those things by the way; thrown 
 in incidentally, as it were," explained the young 
 surveyor. "But they are not my main errand. 
 Our chief has made up his mind that he can't sur 
 vive any longer without a mince-pie. I can get 
 letters, and papers, and coffee, and a few incidentals, 
 if I choose, but if I return without a rich mince- 
 pie, thick with plums, my doom is sealed. I '11 be 
 bounced from the service." 
 
 "If I had a transitman in my employ who wasn't 
 capable of mustering a mince-pie across the range 
 if I wanted it, I 'd fire him, too," returned Mr. 
 Paul soberly. "Well, Rob, it 's slow work getting 
 over this trail any day, and if we don't buckle down 
 to business, that stream will either run dry or the 
 fish will all swim out to sea. Adios, Sedgwick ! " 
 
 "Adios, and good luck!" called out Sedgwick, 
 waving his hat. 
 
 "You switched him finely off the track," observed 
 Rob, as they resumed their climb. "Oh, won't 
 he open his eyes when he sees us coming back in 
 style, with a band of music, and pretty yellow metal 
 enough to pave the whole trail and to spare! "
 
 THE TREASURE-SEEKERS 229 
 
 "We shall have to dispense with our coach and 
 four until we get a better road built," returned Mr. 
 Paul. "As our special private flying-ship is not in 
 order, I see no way of returning but by the very 
 prosaic route we are now taking." 
 
 "Oh, who cares about style, so long as we have 
 such glorious prospects ! I tell you, Mr. Paul, I 'm 
 going to travel and learn things, and do things. 
 One can have anything and be anything, in these 
 days, if he has money to help him along. I '11 have 
 the finest stables in America, and the best horses, 
 and the nicest home for Amy, books and pictures 
 till you can't rest! " 
 
 The boy's exhilaration of spirit was so infectious 
 that it communicated itself to Mr. Paul. He found 
 himself entering into Rob's extravagant plans, sug 
 gesting and correcting them with a buoyant spirit. 
 So absorbed were both in these dreams of the future 
 that they crossed the summit and began to descend 
 the steep slope, where the trail shot down in a series 
 of nearly vertical dashes towards the river, before 
 they realized that the promised land was actually 
 in sight. 
 
 With one accord they suspended speech, and 
 eagerly looked down to where a turbid current, 
 charged with wash from the high mountains, hur 
 ried seaward. 
 
 A long, strange silence fell between them. At 
 length the boy wheeled about, turning his back 
 upon the rippling stream and smiling valley and 
 burnished heights, and the two wild crags to which 
 he had confided the guardianship of his treasure.
 
 230 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 He grasped Mr. Paul's arm, looking into the young 
 man's face in agonized appeal. 
 
 "Mr. Paul, what do you see? " 
 
 But Mr. Paul was looking blankly and incredu 
 lously in the direction Rob's eyes had been searching.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 WINGED RICHES 
 
 "WHAT do I see? I see nothing, nothing at 
 all," replied Mr. Paul. 
 
 "It can't be gone!" groaned the boy. "That 
 mountain can't have been swept out of existence 
 like a handful of sand." 
 
 "I 'm afraid that is precisely what has happened." 
 
 Rob collapsed in a heap on the ground. His 
 companion watched him with sympathy blended with 
 secret congratulation. 
 
 The red hill, for twenty years a landmark in that 
 vicinity, was actually gone, vanished off the face 
 of the earth, completely swept away by the torrent 
 that had poured down the river-bed when all the 
 countless little rills in the high mountains above 
 had been transformed to boiling floods, and had 
 rushed down to join the Santa Ysabel, seeking an 
 outlet to the sea. 
 
 The river was quiet now, tranquilly flowing along 
 its broad channel, mirroring the clear blue sky and 
 wooded heights and rocky ledges upon its placid 
 bosom; but a line of debris high on its banks, and 
 clusters of brush far above their heads in the crotches 
 of tall sycamores, told of the mighty current that 
 had hurled itself against the red hill, itself no doubt 
 the accumulation of milder freshets of bygone years,
 
 232 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 rending and undermining and Storming against it, 
 until, with a great surge and plunge, the mountain 
 had tottered and gone down, to be dissolved in the 
 torrent and swept seaward by the foaming waters. 
 
 So stupendous a catastrophe was beyond all con 
 ceived forms of verbal expression. A vast fortune, 
 wholly beyond their power to compute, carrying 
 with it an immeasurable potentiality, had been 
 stricken from their hold in the moment of attain 
 ment. 
 
 The two looked blankly into each other's faces, 
 then Rob began to laugh, weakly, helplessly, fool 
 ishly, until the full absurdity of the situation pos 
 sessed him, and he ended with a roar of merriment 
 which echoed from the hills, and in which Mr. 
 Paul joined him. 
 
 "That's the true American humor, that laughs 
 its way past obstacles and trials of every sort," 
 said the older man at length, wiping his eyes. "I 
 have n't the least doubt our forefathers laughed and 
 jested and cracked jokes amid the terrors of Valley 
 Forge." 
 
 "Valley Forge wasn't a circumstance to this," 
 asserted Rob ruefully. "Here I 've been lying 
 awake nights, trying to calculate how much gold 
 there was in that hill. If the piece I panned was 
 a fair average test, it would have run about five 
 thousand dollars to the ton. As nearly as I could 
 make out, there was enough of it to pay off the 
 national debt and have a few shekels left over. 
 And here I haven't a whole pair of shoes to my 
 name, nor means to get them ! "
 
 WINGED RICHES 233 
 
 He wound up this dismal statement with a 
 chuckle. 
 
 "It 's barely possible that the red hill may merely 
 have been torn apart by the flood and floated down 
 stream. In that case fragments of considerable size 
 may be strewn like wreckage along the river-bank." 
 
 They started on foot down the river-bank, fol 
 lowing the stream for several miles; but although 
 the banks were everywhere liberally lined with 
 brush and trees deposited by the flood, and now 
 and then they picked up crumbling chunks of a soft 
 reddish conglomerate, they could find no trace of 
 the mountain of gold, which appeared to have 
 vanished as mysteriously as it had been formed. 
 
 Tired, wet, and discouraged, Rob was the first to 
 call a halt. 
 
 "It 's no use looking any further," he grumbled. 
 "A great mass of earth and stone like that isn't 
 going to set sail for the sea like a clipper-rigged 
 yacht. It 's just my luck, anyhow, to lose it! " 
 
 "Look at it from another point of view, Rob," 
 counseled the young man cheerfully. " You ' ve en 
 joyed a delightful dream, such as it falls to the lot 
 of few men to rejoice in throughout their prosaic 
 lifetimes. If it has come to nothing, bear in mind 
 that it has cost you nothing, and you are the gainer 
 by a very jolly memory." 
 
 "It 's queer how you contrive to turn everything 
 into either fun or comfort," grumbled the boy. " "I 
 don't believe you 've ever known what it was to 
 have a trouble or grief, Mr. Paul." 
 
 Could the lad have looked beneath the man's
 
 234 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 smiling mask, or known with what a heavy heart 
 he had set out upon this expedition ; could he have 
 learned the secret of the black curtain, a secret 
 which he was one day to discover with horror and 
 renjorse, how bitterly he might have rued this care 
 less speech. 
 
 Mr. Paul disregarded the remark. 
 
 " I 'm not sure but you 're a millionaire still, 
 Rob," he said shrewdly. "I doubt if you've ever 
 counted up your assets." 
 
 The boy eyed him indignantly. He was in no 
 mood for further jesting on this sore subject. 
 
 "Oh, more than a mere millionaire, a multi 
 millionaire," the man went on seriously. "First, 
 there 's your youth and strength and health. Worth 
 a cool hundred thousand apiece at the lowest quota 
 tions. Then you have intelligence, a decent practi 
 cal education, I take it, five keen Censes, an unim 
 paired digestion, and a glorious appetite for the 
 supper we 're going to have in a jiffy. That last 
 item alone, more than one of the nabobs of the 
 world would pay a full million to acquire, Rob." 
 
 This last suggestion went home to the boy, who 
 became conscious of a hunger gnawing at his vitals 
 which all the gold in the world could not at that 
 moment have assuaged. It was a relief to be con 
 ceded the privilege of frying bacon over the blazing 
 camp-fire that was kindled, and when Mr. Paul, 
 casting a line, pulled several speckled beauties from 
 the stream, the two enjoyed a feast which many 
 men, rich in bonds and bank-stock, would have 
 given half their fortune to have relished.
 
 WINGED RICHES 235 
 
 "Now, Rob, we'll lay plans, for dessert," re 
 marked Mr. Paul cheerily, when both had eaten 
 their fill. 
 
 "I know that note! It's been hanging over 
 me like a nightmare all day. But what can I do, 
 Mr. Paul? -I 've no standing, no money, no friends. 
 If I were to get the best kind of a place, and the 
 best wages, I could n't begin to earn more than a 
 third of the amount during the next year." 
 
 "Be your own employer, Rob." 
 
 The boy was slow to comprehend. 
 
 "We have here, between us, and waiving the 
 question of title for the present," Mr. Paul went 
 on, "three hundred and twenty acres. Forty or 
 fifty of these are already cleared for cultivation. 
 We two, working faithfully, ought to be able to 
 clear twenty or thirty more before the season for 
 spring planting has gone by. Where the wood is 
 heaviest, we might bring men in to cut it on shares 
 and sell it for fuel. Then by judicious planting, 
 with a fair season, we ought to get in a round sum." 
 
 "I 'm no farmer," said Rob frankly. 
 
 "Nor I! " declared Mr. Paul, with equal candor. 
 "But there's no trick about putting seed in the 
 ground and gathering crops. Of course we shall 
 have to get a span of good work-horses, and a gang 
 plough, and other implements, as well as seed." 
 
 "Amy told me yesterday she had less than forty 
 dollars left in bank," said Rob dejectedly. 
 
 "My own balance isn't very large, but between 
 that and my credit I think we can pull through. 
 Aside from what we should make by selling wood
 
 236 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 and raising crops, there is my tunnel as an addi 
 tional resource. It has n't been a brilliant success, 
 but by putting in all our spare time there, we ought 
 to develop more water, and I 've been offered a 
 thousand dollars a miner's inch for everything I 
 will sell. Oh, we '11 pull out somehow, never fear! " 
 
 "But it isn't fair to draw you into the thing this 
 way, Mr. Paul. It isn't your loss or your dis 
 grace." 
 
 The young man looked gravely at the boy, and 
 Rob remembered his speech as they started out that 
 morning. But all Mr. Paul said was : 
 
 " We can adjust all that by and by, Rob. When 
 we get this thing settled and out of the way, it will 
 be time enough to begin to balance our mutual 
 account." 
 
 The journey homeward was not as dreary as might 
 have been imagined. In the midst of the heavy 
 problems that beset them, and the stern tasks that 
 lay before them, the comicality of the complete 
 collapse of their dreams was constantly occurring 
 to the two, upsetting their gravity and sending 
 them into fresh paroxysms of merriment. Only at 
 the foot of the trail, as they came in sight of the 
 cottage in the tree, did Rob for a moment draw 
 back. 
 
 "It's no use, Mr. Paul, I can't face her. It's 
 only a day since I started over the sierra to bring 
 back a fortune. And now I 've only a few speckled 
 trout." 
 
 "Your sister is very fond of trout!" said Mr. 
 Paul conservatively.
 
 WINGED RICHES 237 
 
 "Now you 're laughing at nie again. I tell you 
 I 'd rather be shot than tell her what 's happened. 
 It '11 be an awful shock, Mr. Paul. Oh, I wish 
 I 'd never told her, never started her hoping and 
 expecting, only to be disappointed." 
 
 "Kob, you're bringing back yourself. I think 
 that 's a little better than your sister expected." 
 
 Mr. Paul had neither time nor occasion to explain 
 this somewhat obscure remark, for in another in 
 stant there was a flutter of light garments along the 
 path, and Amy Judith came in sight. She scarcely 
 seemed to see Mr. Paul, acknowledging his presence 
 with a little nod. 
 
 "What has happened, Rob?" she asked breath 
 lessly. "Are you sick? Have you hurt yourself? 
 I saw you coming down the mountain side. You 
 were not to be back for at least a week." 
 
 At the sight of her distress a manly purpose re 
 placed the weak, indecisive look on the boy's hand 
 some face. He put his arm around the girl's waist 
 and met her gaze unflinchingly. 
 
 "Yes, Amy, something has happened. Some 
 thing awful. Sit down and I '11 tell you all about 
 it." 
 
 Wonderingly she obeyed him and seated herself 
 beside the trail, awaiting the sorrowful tidings that 
 his face and voice premised. 
 
 " Can you nerve yourself for a terrible disappoint 
 ment? " 
 
 "Tell me, Rob. I'm no baby. Tell me at once !" 
 
 " Sister, my mountain of gold is all gone. Gone, 
 to the last crumb. Washed downstream by last 
 week's freshet."
 
 238 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "Thank Heaven!" cried Amy, in a voice that 
 betokened great relief. 
 
 "Amy! Amy Judith!" 
 
 "I didn't want it in the least, Rob. I 'd much 
 rather do without it," she insisted blithely. 
 
 "Well, I must say this is a queer deal! " growled 
 Rob, much aggrieved. "That 's all you care for a 
 fellow or a fellow's plans for you. I might have 
 known it would turn out so. Trust a woman to 
 have no sympathy for a fellow and to gloat over 
 the downfall of his hopes! " 
 
 "Robert Judith," said the girl, with great dignity 
 and impressiveness, "I don't believe it 's a good 
 thing for any boy to have a fortune that he does n't 
 earn. I 'd be gladder and prouder to share the 
 smallest sum made by your own hands' labor than 
 to live in a palace with money that came without 
 effort. The day '11 come, Rob, when you '11 see it 
 as I do. Let it be enough now that I want you 
 for yourself, Rob."
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE INTERVIEWER INTERVIEWED 
 
 MR. PAUL was guiding the plough one day, and 
 Eob, following after, was dropping nicely cut potato 
 eyes in the furrow, when this very prosaic labor 
 met with an unexpected interruption. Across the 
 moist field, daintily picking his way, came a slen 
 der young cyclist, who had left his wheel propped 
 against a tree along the trail. 
 
 "Is Mr. Paul here?" he called out when still 
 quite a distance away, evidently disinclined to soil 
 his new russet leather gaiters unless reassured as to 
 the object of his search. 
 
 "That's supposed to be my name. Whoa, Dob 
 bin! What can I do for you, sir?" returned Mr. 
 Paul. 
 
 "Mr. Paul, I 'm really delighted to find you," 
 declared the new-comer, with unction. "You see 
 we 're short on a feature story for our Sunday edi 
 tion, and I don't know what I 'd have done if I 
 hadn't chanced on you." 
 
 "I'm afraid I don't quite grasp your meaning. 
 Couldn't you be a little more explicit?" said Mr. 
 Paul, in a somewhat chill tone, holding fast to the 
 lines while he viewed the visitor with a frown. 
 
 "Oh, pardon me. I supposed you would recog 
 nize me. I flatter myself there are not many people
 
 240 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 in this valley who don't know me," drawing out a 
 card and presenting it with a flourish. "There's 
 my name and calling, sir." 
 
 With an amused smile Mr. Paul examined the 
 card, which was embellished with all the flourishes 
 that adorn the country printer's art. 
 
 MR. ARTHUR BLODGETT, 
 
 ifjj anfc Tfceefety (Comet. 
 
 "Ah! You 're a newspaper man, Mr. Blodgett." 
 
 "An editor and the proprietor of a daily journal, 
 sir," remonstrated Mr. Blodgett haughtily, resent 
 ing the commonplace appellation. 
 
 "Oh! A sort of journalist-at-large ! " Mr. Paul 
 corrected himself. 
 
 "If you please to call it so, sir!" smiled Mr. 
 Blodgett, propitiated by this more sounding title. 
 
 "And you want me to subscribe advertise 
 write a poem, or what, for your paper, the 'Daily 
 Comet'?" 
 
 "The soliciting of subscriptions and advertise 
 ments is attended to by our business staff," ex 
 plained the young man airily. "As for our poetry, 
 sir, the 'Comet ' is very particular, very particular 
 indeed, about the quality of the verse it admits to
 
 THE INTERVIEWER INTERVIEWED 241 
 
 its columns. However, if you have a poem you 
 would like to submit to the 'Comet,' I will see that 
 it is read and passed upon impartially, and with the 
 most discriminating literary taste." 
 
 "Very well, Mr. Blodgett, when I finish my new 
 poem on Spring, I '11 call round. But you see just 
 now I 'm rather busy at the plough, and my literary 
 efforts are, so to speak, going by default," quoth 
 Mr. Paul. "Is there anything else you would like? 
 How are you off for editorials ? I might give you 
 something to-day on Potato Culture, and a few 
 weeks from now I 'm likely to have a special inspi 
 ration on the subject of Cutworms." 
 
 "The editorials of the 'Comet ' are always written 
 by the staff, and they are confined strictly to politi 
 cal matters, Mr. Paul." 
 
 "And I 'm no politician, so you see I could be 
 of no use to you in that line. As my Spring poem 
 isn't ready, and I'm no authority at all on fash 
 ions, and you won't have my sentiments on agricul 
 tural or entomological themes, I don't see how I 'm 
 going to help out your Sunday issue." 
 
 "It was a feature story I spoke of" 
 
 "Oh, yes, a feature story. And a Sunday edi 
 tion without a feature story, in these days, is like 
 a plough without a share." 
 
 "If you 'd just permit me to get in a word edge 
 ways, Mr. Paul!" 
 
 "Why, certainly, Mr. Blodgett!" returned Mr. 
 Paul amiably. "Let 's see. It 's a feature you 're 
 after. Why don't you have a write-up of the pretty 
 girls of the valley. That would be tremendously
 
 242 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 popular, as well as mildly sensational. Or expati 
 ate upon the sanitary advantages and picturesque 
 features of the Vernal Hills. A newspaper can 
 never say too much about the climate and advan 
 tages of the locality where it is published and upon 
 which it must depend for support." 
 
 "Mr. Paul, I want you to furnish the feature." 
 
 " Wait until my spring planting 's done, Mr. 
 Blodgett, I beg of you." 
 
 "But it won't take any time. You have a cur 
 tain. A black curtain ?" 
 
 Mr. Paul could not deny the impeachment. 
 
 "About which there are really remarkable stories 
 in circulation." 
 
 "I dare say." 
 
 "Jim Jones has told me about it." 
 
 Jim Jones was a roving character, hunter and 
 naturalist in the mountains, and loafer and gambler 
 in town, who enjoyed the reputation of possessing 
 the most vivid imagination in the community. 
 
 "Ah! And what does Jones say ?" 
 
 "He slept, or rather tried to sleep, in the room 
 with it one night, and he declares it 's haunted. He 
 says that while he lay watching it by the firelight, 
 he saw a beautiful maiden emerge from it, weeping 
 and wailing. Following her there came an ugly 
 old savage, with his war-paint on and three feathers 
 in his hair. And the girl crouched on the floor, 
 and the Indian raised his tomahawk, and the girl 
 gave a screech, and Jim Jones jumped to his feet, 
 intending to rescue the maiden, when the savage 
 and the girl rushed behind the curtain."
 
 THE INTERVIEWER INTERVIEWED 243 
 
 "That 's very hackneyed and threadbare. I 
 thought Jones had more originality. I could give 
 you a better story myself." 
 
 "If you only will! " Blodgett pulled out a bulky 
 note-book. " Would you mind if I sit down on the 
 plough, Mr. Paul?" 
 
 "Not at all. Make yourself perfectly at home. 
 You can hold the lines, if you want to." 
 
 "I don't see how I could do that and manage my 
 pencil." 
 
 "Never mind. Only, if the horses should take 
 a fancy to start, I want it understood I can't be 
 held accountable for the consequences. We 're 
 planting potatoes, not journalists, in this furrow." 
 
 The editor and proprietor of the " Comet " was 
 good enough to laugh at this pleasantry. 
 
 "Will you be kind enough to begin, Mr. Paul?" 
 
 "But I 'm not acquainted with either the political 
 complexion of the ' Comet ' nor its ethical postulates, 
 Mr. Blodgett. I always like to oblige the press, 
 but one wants to see everything in a newspaper 
 homogeneous. How can I tell whether the story I 
 relate will be in harmony with your paper's pre 
 vious attitude on the great social questions of the 
 hour?" 
 
 "I assure you, Mr. Paul, that has nothing to do 
 with it. Give me just a nice, readable " 
 
 "And then what kind of a story do you want? " 
 persisted Mr. Paul. 
 
 "Really, sir, you own the curtain, and you ought 
 to know " 
 
 "But I don't. I assure you, on my honor, I
 
 244 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 haven't the faintest idea. Would you prefer to 
 have it located in this country or in India? Now 
 that Theosophy is the rage among educated people, 
 to which class I do not doubt that all the readers of 
 the 'Comet' belong" 
 
 "I don't care a rap about Theosophy or India! 
 It 's the curtain itself, the story of the curtain " 
 
 "And would you prefer tragedy, comedy, or ro 
 mance? You see, Mr. Blodgett, you know the 
 temper of the 'Comet's ' readers. Not being a news 
 paper man myself, I beg your pardon, Mr. Blodg 
 ett, I should say not being an editor and proprietor, 
 but only a 'prentice hand, I 'd like the benefit of 
 your advice before I begin to reel off my tale." 
 
 " I want the truth, just the plain truth, Mr. 
 Paul. That oughtn't to be so very difficult." 
 
 "Young man, there's nothing more difficult or 
 complex than the truth," returned his tormentor 
 solemnly. "A piece of fiction, of more or less ar 
 tistic merit, the merest tyro can evolve. But when 
 it comes to dressing out the naked truth in readable 
 shape, without altering a feature or an outline, it 's 
 a stupendous task. Seriously, I 'd advise you 
 against undertaking it. Better think it over. I '11 
 finish this furrow, and if you have a mind to join 
 us at luncheon, which we shall take under that 
 tree," indicating an oak at a discouraging distance 
 over the freshly ploughed field, " I '11 consider your 
 request." 
 
 Mr. Blodgett, editor and proprietor of the " Daily 
 and Weekly Comet," arose from his not over com 
 fortable seat, Mr. Paul whistled to his horses, and
 
 THE INTERVIEWER INTERVIEWED 245 
 
 the animals, refreshed by their short rest, moved 
 briskly forward, pulling the plough after .them. At 
 the end of the field he turned and looked back. 
 
 The ploughed space was un tenanted. Through 
 the trees on the mesa below there appeared a flash 
 of rapidly revolving wheels. 
 
 Mr. Blodgett had beaten a retreat. Whether 
 this act was due to consideration for the new russet 
 leathers, or whether he resented Mr. 'Paul's novel 
 and wholly original method of being interviewed, 
 the two he left behind were at a loss to decide.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 CALAMITY 
 
 THAT year the Vernal Hills were the scene of 
 one of those gallant struggles against heavy odds 
 of which the world makes little account, and which 
 yet develop the heroes of the earth. Day after day 
 Rob, unused to severe physical exertion, rose with 
 the dawn and labored for long, weary hours, until 
 the setting sun brought a grateful relief to his ach 
 ing limbs. Day after day a man of gentle breeding 
 made willing sacrifice of his time and strength, 
 joining in the humblest toil, to lend aid and com 
 panionship to the boy so sorely worsted in the 
 world's conflict, who was battling his way back to 
 honor and self-respect. All the while a delicate 
 woman loyally shared their burdens and privations, 
 bringing cheer and grace into their homely lives. 
 
 "We shall just about pull out, Rob," said Mr. 
 Paul in late July, as they sat about their evening 
 meal. Amy Judith had insisted that during this 
 season of mutual endeavor he should resign the cares 
 of his bachelor household and share their own cosy 
 meals. 
 
 The most difficult relation in the world for a 
 man and woman to sustain is that of friendly, daily 
 intercourse, when on either side there is a con 
 sciousness that the depths of existence have been
 
 CALAMITY 247 
 
 stirred by the other's touch. Although this man 
 and woman each possessed a gentility too fine and 
 true to permit the remembrance of this unspoken 
 drama to embarrass their association, there were 
 unguarded moments when a thoughtless speech or 
 unbidden thought thrilled the heart of one or caused 
 sharp pain to the other. The presence of Rob, 
 with a boy's blunt perceptions and youth's impet 
 uous interests, went far to relieve the awkwardness 
 of their intercourse, and they were accustomed to 
 direct conversation in the channels which most in 
 terested him. 
 
 " I was afraid you know that wretched field of 
 beans, and the time and money it cost! " said Rob. 
 Eight months of stern effort had wrought a notable 
 change in the boy. His voice had become deep 
 and manly, and there was a steadfastness in his eye 
 that told of a spirit grown strong in adversity. 
 
 "That shows the beauty of always planning to 
 have a margin," declared Mr. Paul. "With the 
 money already collected on the wood and water 
 account, and the balance we shall have on the hay 
 when it is delivered to Barry, and the hundred or 
 so dollars we ought to be able to clear on the corn, 
 we shall fall less than a thousand dollars short on 
 the note. By putting more men to work this fall 
 on the oak wood in the west gulch and ourselves 
 joining them on the hauling, we ought to be able 
 to make up the rest by spring." 
 
 "Another good year would clear up all our local 
 bills and put us ahead," said Rob, with animation. 
 
 "Another year you shall not work as hard, if I
 
 248 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 can prevent it," cried Amy impulsively. "It may 
 not hurt you, Rob, but it is wearing out Mr. Paul." 
 
 She broke off short, avoiding the look that her 
 sympathetic speech had kindled in his face, but 
 although he put in a cheerful disclaimer, as they 
 rose from the table she did not fail to note his stiff 
 and weary movements, telling of sore exhaustion 
 and stiffened muscles. Rob, on the other hand, 
 moved about as easily as any young athlete who had 
 just pulled his oar with a college crew. 
 
 "The only outstanding account that troubles 
 me is our grocery bill," remarked Mr. Paul. "I 
 dislike to owe a grocer. There 's something that 
 savors of disrepute in it." 
 
 "Would you like to see the account? " asked Amy. 
 
 While both men puzzled over her laughing look, 
 she went to her desk, and taking out a homely little 
 brown fcook, laid it in Mr. Paul's hand and stood 
 looking down upon him, a dainty vision of grace 
 and womanly sweetness in her simple lawn gown 
 and with a single Castilian rose in her bosom. Mr. 
 Paul's tired eyes lingered upon her face, where the 
 joy of an innocent mystery for the moment lent 
 brilliancy to her delicate features. 
 
 "Look in the book! " she commanded. 
 
 He did as he was bid. Page after page was filled 
 with humdrum entries of various food-stuffs, sugar, 
 flour, coffee, tea, rice, all of the items small. 
 Even a cursory glance showed their character. 
 
 "It is a very economical account. The total 
 is n't anything like what I expected. But what is 
 this? The account is balanced."
 
 CALAMITY 249 
 
 "Turn to the back! " said the girl. 
 
 He found a series of credits. "Berries" and 
 "eggs" were the most frequent items, although now 
 and then there was an entry showing that surplus 
 garden-stuff had been marketed to advantage. 
 
 "Bravely done, Miss Amy!" he said simply. 
 "But I know of a third member of this firm who 
 shall not work as hard another year." 
 
 She flushed, and busied herself about the dishes, 
 a task in which both men hastened to join her. 
 
 "It's a burning shame, Amy! If my mountain 
 of gold had n't gone up or rather down the 
 flume, you 'd have never known what it was to have 
 another duty or care." 
 
 " Better to wear out than rust out, Rob. Hon 
 estly, am I not twice the woman I was when I left 
 the city three years ago? " 
 
 She stood up, straight and lithe, before him, her 
 graceful figure showing rounded outlines through 
 her thin summer dress, a healthy glow in her cheek, 
 but best of all a tranquil spirit and sweet patience 
 displacing the olden unrest. 
 
 "I don't know about the stature, Amy. In all 
 other ways, yes," said her brother, beginning in good- 
 natured sarcasm, but ending seriously, as he realized 
 the picture of perfect and gracious womanhood that 
 she presented. 
 
 "I have health, congenial occupation, and happi 
 ness; perfect happiness," she added firmly, meet 
 ing Mr. Paul's eye. 
 
 They went out that night to look upon the splen 
 did spectacle presented by the fires that raged along
 
 250 . THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 the mountains, a common incident of summer in the 
 Vernal Hills, but presenting, this season, a scene 
 of more than usual magnificence. The tallest peaks 
 were literally garlanded with flame, and now and 
 then -a pine-tree, standing like a lone sentinel upon 
 some rocky outpost with gaunt arms outstretched, 
 robed itself in a garment of flame and sent a black 
 volume of smoke into the blue firmament, blotting 
 out the glittering stars. 
 
 "There is something frightful in the resistless 
 sweep of these fires," said Amy, shivering with 
 sudden fright in the tropical atmosphere, as she 
 watched the work of the flames and listened to their 
 distant roar. "One could almost believe the fire- 
 fiend a living creature, pouncing with relentless fury 
 upon his victims. He has been lying still and hid 
 den in that gulch all da'y, and now see how he has 
 suddenly sprung upon his victim, that pretty oak 
 grove that we have often noted near the summit. 
 You can almost hear the trees groan and struggle 
 in his clutch. I hope he won't get down here." 
 
 "Not the slightest danger in the world," Mr. 
 Paul reassured her. "At this season of the yar 
 all the winds are trades, blowing straight from the 
 sea. Those steep gulches act like so many chim 
 neys, and the range of such fires is always upward." 
 
 It was an east wind, a little, hot, desert breeze, 
 that one day a week later grew tired of playing 
 with the scorched sands of the Mojave desert, and 
 determined to bathe its tired wings in the cool spray 
 of the great Pacific. So with many graceful sallies 
 and retreats, it darted up the wooded slopes of the
 
 It CALAMITY 251 
 
 mother mountains, that stately sierra that frowns' 
 darkly over those barren wastes, and laughingly 
 peered over its fretted summit. The mountain val 
 leys lay sweltering in the heat of the August sun, 
 with here and there a tiny ranch, tucked in a nook 
 of the hills, where lonely men smoked and drank, 
 read or played cards, during the long, 'hot hours of 
 the day, sometimes sallying forth at nightfall to look 
 after their herds. With a glad surge and flutter, 
 the little desert wind flung itself across this desolate 
 waste, poising with glad, outstretched wings on the 
 crest of the Vernal Hills, and quaffing deep draughts 
 of the cool air that floated up from the peaceful 
 blue waters spread out below. Its enemy, the trade 
 wind, was sleeping, and the visitor grew strong and 
 mirthful as he realized that in all that wide domain 
 he might enjoy full sway. Near at hand the moun 
 tain sides and gulches were curiously blackened, 
 and all the ground was covered with a fine dust as 
 gray as the sands of the desert. He breathed gently 
 upon this gray coating, and the tiny atoms rose in 
 the air, giving a glimpse of something bright and 
 glowing beneath. He blew vigorously, and bright 
 sparks rose, and little curling flames began to play, 
 and fiery cinders flew. These the roysterer gath 
 ered eagerly in his embrace, hurrying them sea 
 ward, strewing them through the dry underbrush 
 in the green canons below, where new sparks rose 
 and new flames were kindled, joining to form a furi 
 ous, frolicking band, a flaming battalion sweeping 
 down upon the little ranch homes nestling in the 
 coverts of the hills, and advancing upon the fruitful 
 orchards of the valley.
 
 252 THE BLACK CURTAIN JL 
 
 Amy Judith was busily engaged that morning in 
 training a willful climbing-rose upon a trellis which 
 it had obstinately refused to follow. Her brother 
 and Mr. Paul were gathering corn in a distant field, 
 and she had gone out with hammer and tacks to 
 bind the refractory shoots in place. So deeply 
 absorbed in her work was she that she only idly 
 wondered when a breath of air hot as a blast from 
 a fiery furnace touched her cheek. The mountain 
 fires had subsided and gradually died out days 
 before, and now the hot September weather was 
 at hand. A few weeks more and the season's rush 
 and strain would be over, and Rob, with old scores 
 cleared away and a redeemed name, would have 
 before him an open path to a noble manhood. 
 
 Amy's heart swelled with joy and thankfulness. 
 To be secure, safe and secure once more, was all 
 she, who had once expected so much, now asked of 
 life. Then all at once she heard a voice crying out 
 her name, in agonized appeal. 
 
 "Oh, what is the matter?" she exclaimed, for 
 Mr. Paul was running towards her, an expression 
 of fright and horror on his face. 
 
 "The fire!" he shouted. "Can't you see it is 
 upon us?" 
 
 Amy looked to the west, where a line of flame and 
 smoke followed the gulch which half encircled the 
 bit of mesa on which the cottage stood. She turned 
 to the east. Black billows of smoke, rising from 
 the thick growth of oaks and chaparral, which ex 
 tended from the foothills far down into the valley, 
 told that all escape was cut off in that direction.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 A COWARD MEETS HIS DESERTS 
 
 "THERE'S only one place that offers a possible 
 chance for safety. My cabin!" cried Mr. Paul. 
 "Yours is sure to go. Don't you see, it's coming 
 straight this way, a tempest of flame ! There 
 isn't a chance of reaching the valley. For God's 
 sake, come! Don't lose a moment! " 
 
 "Where is Rob? " asked Amy. 
 
 "Gone with the wood-cutters to fight it. They 
 are taking every possible precaution, wet cloths 
 over their mouths, their clothes drenched. They 
 soaked their felt hats in water. The men are used 
 to it." 
 
 Amy Judith ran up into her little home, snatched 
 up a few needful articles, and thrust into her breast 
 a single memento of her dead mother, then, with 
 a sigh and a quick backward glance, said her last 
 farewell to the small cottage about whose brief ex 
 istence so many dear memories clustered, and which 
 hung, in its leafy bower, all unconscious of its 
 hastening doom. 
 
 Fast as her light feet flew down the shadowed 
 path that led to Mr. Paul's cabin, she could with 
 difficulty keep pace with the man by her side, who 
 held fast to her hand, half leading, half dragging 
 her down the steep descent. The air was full of
 
 254 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 flying cinders, and charred leaves, mere floating 
 flakes of ash, fell in a shower about them. The 
 smoke was suffocating, and little curling tongues of 
 heat seemed to play about their faces. 
 
 "Quick! There is a short cut through here! " 
 
 He helped her across the dry and stony bed of 
 Hidden Creek, and through a matted undergrowth 
 that seemed to fade and shrivel in the scorching 
 atmosphere even as they passed. Once Amy was 
 about to remonstrate with her guide for the needless 
 impetus of this flight, when the fire was still in 
 another gulch and a full half mile away, but she 
 reflected, in time, that every moment of delay was 
 keeping him from lending aid to others who might 
 be in greater need of succor. On the threshold of 
 the cabin she halted, pale, but smiling bravely. 
 
 "Don't come any further with me, Mr. Paul. I 
 am as safe now as you can make me." 
 
 "Hurry into the house. Don't stop! " he urged. 
 
 "But I am keeping you needlessly. You have 
 done all you can for me," she cheerfully insisted. 
 "I would not hold you back for the world. Of 
 course I shall be a little afraid until I know that 
 all danger is past, but I should be just as timid if 
 you were here. Go. Do go! " 
 
 "There is a good clearing around the cabin. It 
 cannot overtake us here," he cried rejoicingly, as 
 he closed the door and sank into a chair. 
 
 "Us!" she repeated incredulously, certain that 
 she had misunderstood him. Then, in quick apology : 
 
 "You are exhausted. Of course you must take 
 a moment's rest before you join the men."
 
 A COWARD MEETS HIS DESERTS 255 
 
 He looked up at her, and she saw that his face 
 was drawn with lines like those of physical pain. 
 
 "I cannot. I dare not face it," he said. 
 
 For the first time she divined that the strange 
 excitement and agitation which she had attributed 
 to his anxiety to get her to a place of safety had 
 been in part due to his own personal fear, and in 
 the same instant, like many another woman, she 
 realized the awful truth that this man, whom she 
 loved with all her heart and soul, was unworthy of 
 her regard, a coward and deserter in time of danger. 
 It mattered not what other ties barred the way to 
 their union, what weaknesses he possessed to claim 
 her contempt rather than the rightful homage a 
 woman should render the man she loves, no matter 
 what the character of the mystery that invested his 
 life, her heart had gone out to him beyond recall. 
 
 Amy Judith shrank from this knowledge as she 
 would have shrunk from any impure thought or 
 base impulse that might have found lodgment in 
 her mind. All the honor and truth and faith of 
 her nature recoiled from the discovery, and de 
 manded that she should cast out this unworthy affec 
 tion. At the same time, and in spite of his present 
 craven attitude, his own acts pleaded for him. She 
 could not help recalling his many deeds of kindness, 
 the loyal and unselfish aid he had rendered ter and 
 an erring boy who had no claim upon him save the 
 claim of the helpless and unfortunate. But he had 
 basely abandoned his post of duty. He was shrink 
 ing from an ordeal that a seventeen -year-old boy 
 was bravely facing. He had made open confession
 
 256 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 of his own weakness. He had been recreant to his 
 manhood. Ah, how she wished that she might hate 
 and despise him as he deserved! 
 
 A sudden glare illuminated the room. The 
 smouldering embers at the head of Hidden Creek 
 had been fanned into new life, and finding fresh 
 food in the luxurious growth along the stream bed, 
 the flames were madly charging down the gulch. 
 The fire was upon them, with a deafening rush and 
 roar, dazzling in its splendor, terrifying in its 
 majesty. 
 
 She went to the window and looked out, find 
 ing relief from her own battling emotions in wit 
 nessing this furious onslaught of the fire-fiend. In 
 the semi-twilight of the gulch the scene was one of 
 unearthly brilliancy. A sheet of flame seemed to 
 spread from hill to hill, licking up the thick under 
 brush with slap of its giant tongue. Now and then 
 a fiery thread would glide like a serpent up a 
 snarl of climbing vines that wreathed some tall tree, 
 writhing and hissing as it reached the canopy of 
 foliage above, and a little later, with a crash and 
 shower of sparks, the forest giant would fall. 
 
 At one time the fire seemed to threaten the cabin, 
 and she thankfully remembered a coil of hose at 
 tached to a hydrant beside the door, which could 
 be resorted to in case of need; but after a series of 
 dazzling feints and sallies, the wily foe withdrew 
 and sped on its way to the valley, leaving a black 
 ened path behind, and she knew that the peril had 
 gone by. 
 
 Smoke had penetrated the cabin through a hun-
 
 A COWARD MEETS HIS DESERTS 257 
 
 dred chinks and crevices, and its atmosphere was 
 stifling. Her eyes were stinging, her throat was 
 dry, and a scorching breath seemed to have filled 
 her lungs. She groped her way to the door and 
 flung it open, letting in the fresh evening air. 
 
 All this time Mr. Paul had been sitting with his 
 face in his hands. He gave a groan of relief and 
 staggered to his feet, and he was wan and haggard 
 as a man who had passed through some mortal 
 illness. 
 
 Amy constrained herself to meet his eyes, and 
 he encountered the expression a man most dreads 
 to see on a woman's face, a look of contempt that 
 passed all speech. 
 
 It was the girl's turn to cover her face, with a 
 low cry : 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Paul, Mr. Paul! I did not mean that 
 you should see." 
 
 A look of stern resentment succeeded the amaze 
 ment in Mr. Paul's countenance. 
 
 " I hoped you had sufficient regard or at least 
 sufficient confidence in me" he began. 
 
 "That is just it. If I hadn't liked you! We 
 were such good comrades, such loyal friends ! It is 
 a terrible thing to have a friendship, a beautiful 
 friendship, slain ! " 
 
 "Don't talk of friendships, Amy." 
 
 The young man was evidently laboring under 
 severe restraint. He walked up and down the 
 apartment, his lips tightly compressed, his whole 
 expression one of intense indignation and resent 
 ment.
 
 258 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "No, it is all gone by," said the girl sadly. 
 "Yet it is because I so esteemed you yesterday that 
 I have courage to speak now. Granted that you 
 are subject to some mortifying, uncontrollable, per 
 haps inherited weakness, Mr. Paul, we all have 
 our frailties and our weaknesses, but they are given 
 us to control, not to make weak surrender to." 
 
 Mr. Paul stopped before her, looking down upon 
 her with a strange smile, and for an instant it 
 seemed as if he were about to speak, but her next 
 words silenced him. For she went on, steadfast in 
 her purpose, in a dreary little monotone : 
 
 "The duty that is appointed is the one that comes 
 to our hand, and we owe it to our manhood and our 
 womanhood to face it without flinching or counting 
 the cost. But you you yielded without resist 
 ance; you did not make the slightest effort to over 
 come yourself and to rise to the demands of the 
 hour and of your manhood." 
 
 Once again it seemed as if he were about to 
 speak, and she waited, half hoping that his words 
 might explain his strange moral collapse, half dread 
 ing lest they confirm it in its worst aspect. She 
 resumed, speaking wearily, sadly, hopelessly : 
 
 "I have so honored you for your goodness to 
 Rob. Your past was nothing to me. I have never 
 asked, I do not ask you, to explain the mystery of 
 the black curtain. The careless gossip of the coun 
 try is nothing to me. That is, no doubt, nothing 
 but some harmless caprice with little significance, 
 a mere shield behind which you screen from curious 
 gaze or profane touch some article or furnishings
 
 A COWARD MEETS HIS DESERTS 259 
 
 dear to you through past association. But this is 
 different. This I have seen with my own eyes; it 
 is unanswerable. Men have gone into battle shrink 
 ing in every limb, trembling at the sound of can 
 non; and they have come out heroes. I would 
 rather have seen you dead at my feet, than to have 
 known you a " 
 
 She did not finish the sentence. Something in 
 the face of the man standing so grave and silent 
 before her arrested her words. 
 
 "A coward." 
 
 In dignity and calmness he finished the speech 
 for her, and he seemed to grow in stature as he 
 pronounced the word, so immeasurably above and 
 beyond its reach did he seem. 
 
 To a casual observer, the woman who had framed 
 this cruel sentence might at the moment have seemed 
 to be in greater need of pity than the man upon 
 whom it fell. For she buried her face in her hands 
 as he spoke, and her cheeks burned with shame.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 HEROISM 
 
 WHEN the fire tore like a cyclone down the hills 
 that afternoon, interrupting Mr. Paul and Rob at 
 their pleasant labor, it was at the boy's suggestion 
 that Mr. Paul hastened down to the mesa to warn 
 his sister and see that she found a place of safety. 
 To the lad there was exhilaration in the threatening 
 danger, and although he had patiently undertaken 
 his share of the season's cares, he rejoiced in this 
 escape from the monotony of daily routine, and the 
 chance to join in a hand-to-hand conflict with the 
 fiery monster which was menacing his home. 
 
 The wood-cutters, scenting danger with the first 
 stir of the east wind, had abandoned their work, 
 and armed with axe and mattocks, were hurrying 
 across to make a clearing in the path of the advan 
 cing foe. 
 
 "There comes McCabe and his boys! " one cried, 
 pointing to some black figures climbing the hillside 
 above a little farm located at the mouth of the 
 canon below. 
 
 "And yon 's a team coming up from town! " said 
 the other, pointing to a cloud of dust whirling along 
 the highway. "We'll have help. They all know 
 what this means." 
 
 A dozen years before, another east wind, frolick-
 
 HEROISM 261 
 
 ing over the hills from the desert, had brought a 
 fierce fire down upon the valley, more thickly 
 wooded then than now, and many homes had been 
 destroyed and orchards and vineyards despoiled 
 before its progress had been checked. 
 
 A host of earnest workers were soon on the scene, 
 but before they could reach it the fire had spread 
 in all directions, and the belt of country to be cov 
 ered was wide. They succeeded in stopping its 
 spread in one place, only to find that it had escaped 
 them in another, but they battled on undaunted, as 
 only men can fight who struggle for the preserva 
 tion of their homes. They grubbed at the roots of 
 the tough chaparral, and tore out the lighter growths 
 of underbrush with their naked hands, flinging it 
 in the maw of the advancing demon. Now and 
 then, when a sufficient clearance had been made, 
 they burned away small strips of ground, piled high 
 with the uprooted brush, that the flames might find 
 nothing to feed upon when they reached the spot. 
 
 The greatest menace to the workers and the fire's 
 chief allies were the great trees, whose branches, like 
 flaming banners, served to carry the enemy's victory 
 into new territory. At one point, where the flames 
 were well under control, a tall, dead sycamore was 
 discovered aflame. The men undertook to fell it 
 with axes, but a shower of burning brands forced 
 them to desist. 
 
 "If we could get a rope through the fork of them 
 limbs, twenty feet from the ground, we 'd bring her 
 down. Then we 'd be masters of the situation," 
 said McCabe, who by virtue of his superior force
 
 262 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 and decision had been conceded the leadership. 
 " If she falls now, she '11 go the wrong way and 
 undo everything." 
 
 They tried to cast one end of a long rope over 
 the tree, but the wind tossed it about, and the flam 
 ing branches, like so many waving arms, beat it 
 back, while the fire gained furious headway. 
 
 "It 's as much as a man's life is worth to climb 
 her," remarked one old man. "I 'd tackle her, but 
 the rheumatics in my knees makes me that clumsy 
 I 'm afeard I couldn't make it." 
 
 Rob, who, with the great dog Hercules by his 
 side, had been one of the most energetic and effi 
 cient in the ranks, came up in season to hear this 
 conversation and to recognize the need. 
 
 "I'll take it up. I'm the lightest," he cried. 
 " Give me a hand, McCabe ! " 
 
 Seizing the coil of rope, and bracing himself 
 against McCabe 's stout shoulder, he succeeded in 
 mounting the slippery trunk to where a broken 
 limb afforded him a foothold. From this point the 
 ascent was comparatively easy, save for the blinding 
 shower of fire that greeted his every upward glance. 
 
 "That boy has grit. I like him," was McCabe's 
 comment, as they watched him. 
 
 Hob reached his goal in safety, although his 
 hands were bruised and burned, and on his cheek 
 and neck a falling brand seared deeply, causing 
 agonizing pain. Bracing himself in the crotch of 
 two limbs, he flung the rope through the fork of the 
 limbs above. The shout that went up from below 
 was better than ointment for his smarting wounds,
 
 HEROISM 263 
 
 and he waved a triumphant greeting and cheered 
 lustily over the success of his mission. 
 
 No one knew exactly how it happened. Self- 
 forgetful in his boyish rejoicing, he may have for 
 the instant loosed his hold ; a foot may have slipped 
 as he began his perilous descent; the hands that 
 grasped the rope may have unconsciously laid weight 
 upon it; or it may be the old tree was so rotten at 
 the roots that the boy's weight overbalanced the 
 slender hold it had upon the earth. 
 
 Still blazing, and with twinkling branches out 
 spread like a great flaming candelabra, it tottered 
 and went down. Down into a blazing line of brush 
 and chaparral, scattering ashes like whirlwinds in 
 all the air around, while the smoke rose like a pall, 
 the old tree lay prone in its death agony, a help 
 less, uncouth shape, lifting gaunt and blackened 
 arms as if in mute appeal. But where was the 
 lad who had but the moment before cried out ex- 
 ultingly at its conquest? 
 
 Hercules was barking furiously about the smoul 
 dering chaparral, where the tree pressed heavily 
 upon it. 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 "Don't you see where the dog is barking, under 
 that branch there ? Lend a hand, boys ! " Raise the 
 heavy limb that binds him down in that fiery fur 
 nace. Lift him out tenderly, carefully! Is he 
 quite dead? Oh, the foolhardiness of it! Why 
 had they let him undertake so desperate a venture ? 
 Better that a few fields should have been burned, 
 a few buildings destroyed, than that this young life
 
 264 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 should be sacrificed ! Bring water, and wipe away 
 the grime and blood from his pale face. Straighten 
 the limp limbs and fold the bruised hands where 
 cruel burns have eaten deep into the flesh. 
 
 Suddenly McCabe, kneeling beside the boy, and 
 directing these tender offices, sprang to his feet. 
 
 "His heart 's beating! Send Jim to the village 
 for a doctor. Two of you stay and watch the fire. 
 The wind 's gone down, and unless it starts up 
 again, the danger 's past." 
 
 Constructing a simple litter of willow poles, lined 
 with fragrant chemisal, they carried him down to 
 Mr. Paul's cabin, crossing the blackened cornfield 
 where the lad had so patiently toiled that summer, 
 with honor and liberty his stake, and where here 
 and there charred stalks, like so many ineffectual 
 prayer plumes, drooped their tasseled heads. 
 
 The movement through the cool night air restored 
 him to consciousness, and with consciousness came 
 pain. 
 
 Amy Judith heard the sound of voices, and peer 
 ing out into the twilight, saw the shadowy proces 
 sion and hurried out to meet it. Ashes, gray as 
 early snow, covered the ground, which was still hot 
 beneath her feet. 
 
 The men's faces were blackened with smoke and 
 sweat, but they were heroes, every one, the girl felt, 
 with a thrill of sympathy that steeled her heart 
 against her own small woes. But what was the 
 burden they carried? 
 
 "Rob!" 
 
 He tried to rise on his elbow with a reassuring 
 speech.
 
 HEROISM 265 
 
 "I 'm all right, Amy. Don't worry! There's 
 no occasion" he protested, and immediately pro 
 ceeded to give tangible proof of his assertion by 
 fainting away. 
 
 "He got his arm rather badly mangled and his 
 back hurt by the falling of a tree; and he 's got 
 some ugly burns," explained McCabe. 
 
 Mr. Paul's strong arms lifted the injured boy 
 and carried him to his own bed, in an alcove ad 
 joining the large living-room. It was Mr. Paul's 
 clear head and ready wit which brought order out 
 of chaos, and applied healing lotions to the deep 
 burns, with a touch tender as a woman's. And 
 when everything had been done that the resources 
 of the mountain home would permit, he it was who 
 took up his watch by Rob's bedside, insisting 
 upon sharing his care with the distracted girl, min 
 istering to the sufferer's every want, anticipating 
 every demand. 
 
 The men had been gone but a short time when 
 there came a knock at the door, which Mr. Paul 
 hastened to answer. He found McCabe and an 
 other man there, the bearers of an important com 
 munication, which, curtly ignoring the young man, 
 they insisted upon delivering to Miss Judith in 
 person. 
 
 Amy reluctantly left her post and presented her 
 self before them, looking so frail and slight that the 
 men's hats were doffed in an instant, and they felt 
 a chivalrous joy in the message they brought. 
 
 "We just came to tell you I thought maybe 
 you'd like to know" began McCabe, his honest
 
 266 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 face beaming, "that we thought we'd take a look 
 around when we were on the way down, to sort o' 
 make note of the mischief done, like the appraisers 
 the underwriters send out when a house or barn 
 burns down. And if you '11 believe me, ma'am, 
 that darned little paper house is hanging there in 
 its tree, big as life an' pert as all creation." 
 
 "The fire must have taken a turn there. How 
 strange! " was Amy's musing comment. 
 
 "That's just what it didn't do, ma'am," said 
 McCabe. "It made a clean sweep down to Jake 
 Wright's stubble-field, where they stopped it by 
 ploughing fresh furrows. It took everything on 
 the way, mowed down big live-oaks like so many 
 mustard stalks and charred the very boulders. But 
 there stands that oak and that little house in it, only 
 scorched a mite on one side where a vine dumb 
 up the tree. Hen-house 's gone, an' the big oak 
 on the east side 's a heap of ashes, but that tinder- 
 box had the queerest luck. Must be it 's got some 
 sort of fireproof dressing over it. But here comes 
 the doctor. If you don't mind, I '11 just wait and 
 see what he has to say. Everybody down our 
 way '11 be wanting to hear," added McCabe. 
 
 The old physician shook his head doubtfully when 
 he saw the extent of the burns. Rob was growing 
 feverish, and had relapsed into unconsciousness, 
 moaning with pain and muttering about the fire and 
 the tree, sometimes feebly summoning Hercules to 
 his aid, and again begging the men to lift the 
 weight that pinned him down. 
 
 "His chances are slim," the doctor said at length,
 
 HEROISM 267 
 
 with cruel frankness. "He was evidently in an 
 exhausted condition when the injuries were sus 
 tained. That great patch on his neck and cheek, 
 where the skin is burned away, is enough to kill a 
 strong man. Nature's recuperative forces are lim 
 ited. To be sure, he has youth in his favor, but I 
 fear all we can do is to relieve his sufferings as far 
 as we can." 
 
 Amy Judith, overpowered with sudden faintness, 
 dropped on her knees beside the bed where the poor 
 sufferer was now babbling of water, cool, flowing 
 water, and begging to have his face and hands laved 
 in it. The doctor looked pitifully upon her, and 
 McCabe, who had followed to the threshold, unable 
 to bear the sight, tiptoed clumsily away. But Mr. 
 Paul touched the doctor lightly on his arm. 
 
 "A few words with you, doctor, if you please. 
 Will you be kind enough to come this way?" 
 
 The doctor followed, marveling at his unconcerned 
 voice and manner. McCabe was standing in the 
 large room, the picture of helpless misery. 
 
 "Have you ever tried skin-grafting, doctor?" 
 Mr. Paul asked, still in the same careless voice. 
 
 "Once, years ago, when the experiment was 
 new." 
 
 "Was it a success?" 
 
 "Decidedly." 
 
 "What would its effect be in this case?" 
 
 "The boy's salvation, if done under the right 
 conditions. But it would be necessary to engraft 
 from a healthy, vigorous person. You never find 
 any one willing to volunteer in such cases except
 
 268 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 members of the patient's family. As I understand 
 it, young Judith has no relative but that delicate 
 girl. I '11 tell you honestly, Mr. Paul, I would n't 
 dare undertake it, if she were willing. She isn't 
 strong enough. I couldn't forecast the result." 
 
 "How wiU this do?" 
 
 Mr. Paul rolled back the sleeve from his left arm, 
 displaying the muscles of an athlete, covered with 
 a skin fair and free from blemish as a girl's. The 
 doctor's eyes sparkled. 
 
 "Good! " he cried. "But we must lose no time. 
 Come on, McCabe! I want your help." 
 
 "By the Lord, you '11 have it in more ways than 
 one! " responded McCabe, slowly gathering the 
 meaning of this demonstration. "It's I that will 
 be proud, doctor, to have a drop of my blood run 
 ning in that brave lad's veins." 
 
 Amy Judith did not understand why she was so 
 summarily banished from the room where the young 
 sufferer lay, but she obediently followed the doctor's 
 directions, making ready warm water and preparing 
 fresh bandages, all unconscious of the scene that 
 was transpiring behind the drawn portiere. 
 
 Mr. Paul stood without flinching while the doctor 
 removed patch after patch of skin, until his arm 
 was dripping blood and checked from wrist to shoul 
 der. When it came McCabe 's turn, at the first 
 prick of the knife, the strong man turned white, and 
 dropped, half fainting, into the nearest chair. 
 
 "Ow! It 's like being vaccinated, doctor; I 
 never could stand it." 
 
 " I really think we can dispense with your epider-
 
 HEROISM 269 
 
 mis, McCabe. Mr. Paul has contributed enough," 
 said the doctor, looking with pride upon the parti 
 cles of white skin inlaid upon the angry surface of 
 his patient's wound, and commencing to bandage it 
 skillfully.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 MR. PAUL BEHIND THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "I WANT to have a talk with you both about my 
 affairs," said Rob, some days later, as he lay 
 back in a reclining-chair, fully dressed, but still 
 swathed in bandages, in the pleasant apartment that 
 had been allotted him. 
 
 The siege of suffering through which he had passed 
 had left Rob pale and wasted, but all danger from 
 any shock to the system resulting from the exten 
 sive surface of skin burned over was past, and the 
 mangled arm was now the most serious injury, re 
 quiring good care and frequent dressing. The hurt 
 to the spine had been trifling, and while he would 
 probably have a weak back for a year or more to 
 come, there was no reason why it should not in time 
 become strong and sound again. 
 
 "Don't try to talk now. Try not to think!" 
 said his sister impulsively. 
 
 "But I must. I can't help thinking, and I must 
 have it out now and here. Our crops all we 
 depended upon are gone. A clean sweep, Mr. 
 Paul?" 
 
 "A clean sweep, with the exception of the hay 
 already stored at Barry's," replied Mr. Paul gravely. 
 
 " If it were any other man but Norcross, we might
 
 MR. PAUL BEHIND THE BLACK CURTAIN 271 
 
 pay over the little we have, and get the time ex 
 tended. But the old captain always prides himself 
 on being a man of his word." 
 
 "Yes, it would be useless to try to temporize with 
 Norcross." 
 
 "I 've done my best, and failed." The lad's face 
 quivered. Amy buried her face in the coverlet 
 beside him. "But " Rob rallied "you 've done 
 more than your best, you and Amy. You 've 
 been the kindest friends a boy ever had. You 've 
 done more than you had any right to do, and it 's 
 been no use. Now what I want to say is this: 
 You shan't be cumbered by me any longer. Next 
 week I '11 be able to travel, and I '11 go to San Fran 
 cisco and give myself up and take my sentence. 
 Don't cry, Amy! " 
 
 For she was sobbing violently beside him. 
 
 Rob went on speaking with feverish haste. 
 
 "It's the right thing to do. It 's what I ought 
 to have done in the first place. I see it now. But 
 I was so young and the chance of liberty was 
 tempting." 
 
 There was a break in his voice. Amy raised her 
 face, streaming with tears, and kissed the maimed 
 arm and bandaged hand. Rob tried to speak cheer- 
 fully. 
 
 "I '11 promise you I '11 keep straight all the time 
 I 'm in there, Amy. And I 'm young yet, and the 
 time won't be long. I '11 earn every credit there 
 is, and shorten the time all I can. And I '11 keep 
 straight when I come out. I '11 come back to you, 
 Amy, then, if you 're not ashamed to have me, and
 
 I 
 
 272 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 I '11 work my way up again, honestly and squarely, 
 so help me God ! " 
 
 There was a hush in the room, disturbed only by 
 Amy's sobs, breaking forth again in uncontrollable 
 anguish. 
 
 Mr. Paul had hitherto listened in silence and 
 with the grave expression growing on his face. He 
 bent down now, and took Rob's unhurt hand in his. 
 
 "So help me God, Robert Judith," he said sol 
 emnly, "you shall never step inside prison walls." 
 
 The boy feebly shook his head. Amy raised her 
 head, looking up reproachfully through her tears, 
 as if she would upbraid Mr. Paul for holding forth 
 a hope so impossible of realization. 
 
 "I have one resource, Rob, which we have all 
 been forgetting, my fairy purse. I think there 
 are a few coins left. I shall draw upon it now. 
 Norcross shall be paid promptly on the day when 
 the note falls due." 
 
 He tried to speak lightly, but there was still such 
 solemnity in his voice that his two hearers were 
 strangely moved. Rob's eyes shone with new hope 
 and courage. 
 
 "Are you sure you can spare it, Mr. Paul? " 
 
 "Yes. It is merely an investment, Rob. If I 
 should try to keep the coins, they might only be 
 lost to me in the end. This way I make sure of 
 them, you see. Amy, may I have a word with 
 you?" 
 
 While Rob lay idly in his chair, with bright 
 visions of a free future flitting past his closed eyes, 
 Mr. Paul led her to the outer room, through whose
 
 MR. PAUL BEHIND THE BLACK CURTAIN 273 
 
 broad windows they could see the birds flitting to 
 and fro, laying new plans for home-building. 
 
 Amy was the first to speak. 
 
 "Mr. Paul, will you forget what I said that 
 day? I was half wild with anxiety for Rob. I did 
 not realize what I was saying. Can we not be 
 friends again? " putting out a. timid little hand. 
 
 "I do not want your friendship, nor even your 
 loyal comradeship. Friendship is not for you and 
 me, Amy. Some day I had meant to ask you once 
 again for a more precious gift, but that is all gone 
 by. Trust is the very foundation-stone of all true 
 affection. When doubt undermines it, the whole 
 structure goes down." 
 
 Had she obeyed the impulse of her heart and, 
 putting her arms around his neck and resting her 
 head upon his breast, whispered her penitence and 
 her trust, she would have had cause to rejoice all the 
 rest of her life, and been spared much bitter regret. 
 That she made no sign of the love and compassion 
 and sorrow that surged within her was due in part 
 to her own shy willfulness, in part to a haunting 
 recollection of the day when she had fallen from 
 the bluff and been brought to his cabin, and the 
 half confidence that he had made her then. 
 
 A singular transformation appeared to come over 
 this man whom she had known so long and inti 
 mately. Instead of the cheerful, practical-minded 
 young ranchman who had quibbled with her over 
 land titles, thrust good-natured assistance upon 
 her, and shown himself her stanch friend and wise 
 adviser in time of trouble, Mr. Paul had suddenly
 
 274 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 retreated to an immeasurable distance. His voice, 
 low and deep, seemed merely to echo emotions .that 
 belonged, to some remote past. He went on, in the 
 same measured, abstract tone. 
 
 "You have told me some bitter truths, little 
 woman, but I want to assure you now that should 
 the time ever come when you feel disposed to re 
 proach yourself for them, I sincerely thank you for 
 your frank and fearless speech. A man has no 
 right to make weak surrender to the inevitable. It 
 is better to fight honorably to the bitter end, and 
 to go down in battle with one's face to the foe, than 
 to weakly capitulate and cry for quarter, as I have 
 done. To-day I shall lift the black curtain. There 
 is blessing even in loss, for had you loved me, this 
 pall might have forever overhung my life. When 
 I put the curtain in place I did not foresee that it 
 was destined to take such a hold upon the imagina 
 tion of the countryside. It was kind of you to view 
 the matter so sensibly. I assure you that you are 
 correct in supposing it to be merely a harmless 
 caprice of mine; yet its lifting will not be with 
 out significance to me." 
 
 He crossed the room and laid his hand upon the 
 drapery's sombre folds. The girl, watching his 
 sober face, felt a chill foreboding as the heavy cloth 
 swayed beneath his touch. 
 
 The next instant the black curtain parted, and 
 when it fell again hi place, Mr. Paul had disap 
 peared behind it.
 
 ROB RECEIVES A COMMISSION 
 
 DURING the days that elapsed before Rob's con 
 dition would permit of his removal, he and his sister 
 saw little of their host, who remained for the most 
 part in strict and mysterious seclusion behind the 
 black curtain. 
 
 When the demands of their simple way of life 
 brought them in contact, or when his solicitude for 
 the injured boy caused him to join them, although 
 he made a manifest effort to direct conversation in 
 light channels and to encourage and stimulate Rob, 
 and often entertained his guests charmingly with 
 anecdote and reminiscence, always impersonal in 
 character, he relapsed by turns into fits of singular 
 abstraction, and day by day the drawn and haggard 
 look deepened on his face. 
 
 Strive as she might to fill her mind with cheerful 
 thoughts and to banish morbid speculation, Amy 
 Judith was painfully sensitive to every sound that 
 came from the distant recess over which the funereal 
 drapery hung. Sometimes she heard the sound of 
 footsteps pacing to and fro, up and down, with a 
 wearisome monotony and restlessness that told of 
 a spirit chafing and striving. Occasionally there 
 was a movement as if some piece of furniture were
 
 276 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 being shifted from place to place; but more fre 
 quently there were long, deathlike silences, when 
 not so much as a stir or rustle betokened the pre 
 sence of human life in the shadowy embrasure ; and 
 these silences were to the girl's sensibility most pain 
 ful to bear, for they seemed pregnant with signifi 
 cance, weighted with untold agony. 
 
 It was a relief to them all when Rob one day 
 regained his feet, and announced his ability to walk, 
 and they climbed the hill to the little home, doubly 
 dear to them after the fiery ordeal it had passed 
 unscathed. 
 
 The leaves of the oak were scorched upon one 
 side ; a curtain that had fluttered out of a window 
 hung, a charred rag, in the opening; and a single 
 dark stain on the enamel covering the substance of 
 which the house was made told of the futile effort 
 the flames had made to gain possession of the dwell 
 ing. With this single exception, the cottage was 
 untouched, but around it all was desolation. 
 
 "Looks as if lightning had struck it!" observed 
 Eob. 
 
 "It's a blasted heath. The witches have been 
 holding high carnival on it!" cried Amy fantasti 
 cally. 
 
 Although few of the trees had fallen, they pre 
 sented a melancholy appearance, with blackened 
 trunks and naked boughs, while the ground beneath 
 was carpeted with pale gray ashes. Not a green 
 leaf or blade of grass, or a single bud or flower, was 
 spared. Even the vigorous climbing-rose that Amy 
 had been training when the alarm was given had
 
 ROB RECEIVES A COMMISSION 277 
 
 writhed from its fastenings and fallen to the ground, 
 distorted and charred. 
 
 The utter desolation of the pretty garden over 
 which she had so faithfully toiled might well have 
 daunted a stouter heart than Amy Judith's; but 
 the spirit that had so many times before faced dis 
 aster with undiminished courage blazed up afresh 
 at sight of the havoc the fire had wrought. 
 
 "At any rate, all the weeds are killed. That is 
 one thing to rejoice over. And I 've always under 
 stood ashes were excellent fertilizers. We 've cer 
 tainly had the ground enriched on a large scale," 
 she said blithely. 
 
 Days and weeks moved slowly by, and still Mr. 
 Paul maintained his mysterious seclusion. Occa 
 sionally he paid a brief evening call at the cottage, 
 but the strange air of remoteness and separation 
 that had marked him in the days of their enforced 
 stay at the cabin still encompassed him, and when 
 he rose to go, his departure brought a sense of relief 
 to all three. 
 
 In these days Mr. Paul seemed to have resigned 
 his customary interests, all of his time being ab 
 sorbed by the secret undertaking upon which his 
 whole being seemed intent. Rob, who brought and 
 carried his light mail, observed the neglected condi 
 tion of his little garden, the air of forlornness and 
 even disorder that invested the cabin, but a sense 
 of delicacy and reserve, new to the boy, restrained 
 him from either offering his services or intruding 
 impertinent inquiries. 
 
 One day, as Rob lingered to give a handful of
 
 278 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 grass to the sorrel mare, whinnying at the end of 
 her tether, Mr. Paul came out with an open letter 
 in his hand. 
 
 "Rob, I wish you 'd put the mare in harness 
 and hurry down to meet the afternoon train. I 'm 
 expecting a friend, and I want you to bring him 
 up. It 's due at 2.30, and there 's no time to lose." 
 
 Mr. Paul seemed quite his old self. There was 
 a smile on his face, but he was pale and worn as 
 a man who had engaged in some mortal contest and 
 triumphed. 
 
 It was so long a time since the young man had 
 asked service or favor that Rob was rejoiced to exe 
 cute this commission. He hastened to exchange the 
 mare's halter for her bridle, and was soon driving 
 up the road which the two had carved out of the 
 hillside the spring before. He was halfway to the 
 village before he realized that in his haste he had 
 forgotten to ask the name of Mr. Paul's friend, but 
 he reflected that travel was so light along the road, 
 and arrivals at the station so few, that he could 
 scarcely fail to intercept the expected guest.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 ON THE TRACK OF A COUNTERFEITER 
 
 MR. PAUL'S singular seclusion had attracted the 
 attention of others besides the dwellers of the paper 
 cottage, and it is needless to state that the outside 
 world placed a less liberal construction upon it. 
 
 For weeks his cabin had been closed to passers-by, 
 and although this withdrawal of hospitality worked 
 no hardship in the mildest season of the year, it 
 was regarded as an affront to travelers up the trail, 
 an incivility which, added to other offenses laid 
 at the young man's door, provoked the public indig 
 nation and prepared public sentiment for what was 
 to follow. 
 
 "Boys, I 've found my man! " 
 
 It was the sheriff of the county who spoke. He 
 had summoned his entire force in consultation, and 
 the men had promptly obeyed the call, knowing that 
 only an emergency of extraordinary importance 
 could have stirred their phlegmatic chief to such a 
 measure. 
 
 They knew at once to what he referred. For 
 months past a genuine sensation had been bubbling 
 and fermenting along the Vernal Hills. The coast 
 counties of southern California had recently been 
 flooded with counterfeit coin, and although the
 
 280 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 . brightest agents in the government's employ had 
 been assigned to that locality, all efforts to trace 
 the spurious coin to its source had been unavailing. 
 A short time previous, one of these secret agents 
 had paid this district a visit, and had declared his 
 conviction that the counterfeiters' den was not a 
 dozen miles from the Vernal Hills. Since then 
 every man on the constabulary force had been on 
 the lookout. False trails innumerable had been 
 taken up and run down, but the artful offenders 
 were still at large. 
 
 All looked their interest and awaited the sheriff's 
 further confidence. 
 
 "It's that fellow Paul, who's been living up 
 there on Escondido Creek." 
 
 " Gee-whillikins ! You mean to say he's been 
 carrying on this business all along, right under our 
 noses?" 
 
 "I mean to say nothin' I can't prove! " returned 
 the sheriff discreetly, enjoying the sensation he had 
 produced. 
 
 "I ain't one mite surprised. Not one mite! 
 I 've said to myself all along there was something 
 wrong about that fellow Paul. What 's a man like 
 him up here for, anyway? He 's no farmer, if he 
 did harrow in a field of hay this year and a few 
 rows of corn. And he 's no invalid. And if a 
 man 's in good health and no farmer, what busi 
 ness 's he got going up into the hills and living off 
 by hisself?" demanded another, who felt that his 
 argument was unanswerable. 
 
 "I tell you he's ekle to it. Any man that'll
 
 ON THE TRACK OF A COUNTERFEITER 281 
 
 hide in his house when a fire 's ragin' all over the 
 country, and let others fight to save his property, 'd 
 steal the pennies off his dead grandmother's eyes," 
 was the ghoulish suggestion of a gray-bearded dep 
 uty, one Watkins, who was married to a Spanish 
 wife, and, being popularly supposed to swing a large 
 Spanish vote by virtue of this alliance, was treated 
 with marked respect by the autocrat who adminis 
 tered the law of the district. 
 
 u How'd you drop onto it?" queried another 
 curiously. 
 
 "Never you mind! I got there just the same! " 
 said the sheriff, with a swagger, remembering his 
 pledge to Orlando Birdsall, with whom he had been 
 in secret conference that morning. 
 
 "It's curious how McCabe stands up for that 
 fellow Paul," remarked Burnham, a grave, middle- 
 aged deputy, who had demonstrated his courage in 
 more than one encounter with lawbreakers, and 
 who, after twenty years of minor service, was re 
 puted to have aspirations towards the shrievalty. 
 "McCabe won't hear a word said against Paul, 
 though he 's the man owes him a grudge if any one 
 does, working all day the way he did in front o' 
 the fire, with never so much as a word of thanks 
 for it." 
 
 "Let up, Burnham! Who cares what McCabe 
 thinks or doesn't think? He isn't in this deal. 
 There 's some of the fellow's stuff, boys." 
 
 The sheriff passed out a handful of half-dollars 
 so adroitly coined as to be an almost perfect imita 
 tion of Uncle Sam's legal tender. The men caught
 
 282 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 eagerly at them, passing them from hand to hand, 
 and demonstrating their proficiency in the art of 
 detecting base coinage by submitting them to devi 
 ous tests, biting them, rubbing them with their 
 fingers, and ringing them on the floor. The sight 
 of these warmed the men to new interest in the 
 malefactor. 
 
 "Pretty good work! He 's none o' your common 
 coin-scrapers or lead -fillers." 
 
 " Where 'd you get 'em, sheriff?" asked Burn- 
 ham. 
 
 "I got 'em from the man he passed 'em off on, 
 and that 's all you '11 know till the proper time in 
 court," said the superior officer witheringly. 
 
 Burnham subsided amidst the scorn of his more 
 discreet fellows. 
 
 "Now we've got work on hand, and it's work 
 that won't admit of no fooling! " resumed the high 
 functionary. "We 've got to go cautious about it, 
 and not scare our game, or he '11 run or shoot. A 
 man who 's up to such work is always on his guard, 
 for he knows sooner or later he '11 be took." 
 
 "You bet! " assented an admiring deputy. 
 
 "S'pose he 's alone in it? " ventured Burnham. 
 
 "I don't s'pose anything. All I know is what 
 I find out. Now what I purpose to do is to go up 
 Hidden Creek and take him, dead or alive, this 
 very afternoon." 
 
 "That 's the talk! " said Burnham approvingly. 
 
 "I don't need your opinion of my qualifications, 
 Joe Burnham! " said the sheriff disdainfully. "It 's 
 on the votes of my constituency, and them that
 
 ON THE TRACK OF A COUNTERFEITER 283 
 
 swings 'em, I depend for election, not on your 
 approval. Now we 'd better be all armed, Win 
 chesters for long range and six-shooters for close 
 quarters. Who knows the trails up that way best? 
 I ain't been up there myself this six year." 
 
 "It'd be a daisy place to get cornered in," 
 chuckled Watkins, with a freedom born of the con 
 sciousness of that long Spanish vote at his back. 
 "A regular gorge, where Paul's cabin stands, nar 
 row, with steep sides. There 's places there, if I 
 remember the gulch rightly, where one man could 
 wipe out an army. And then again there 's places 
 where a good-sized company could stow theirselves 
 away for weeks and see everything going on in the 
 canon, and no one be the wiser." 
 
 "Then that last's the sort of spot we want to 
 make for. Who 's the man can show the way?" 
 
 "The best man to pilot us up there is Jim Jones. 
 He knows every foot of the hills by heart. They 
 ain't a squirrel-hole or fox -burrow for twenty mile 
 around that Jim Jones don't know." 
 
 "All right, boys! We'll pick Jim Jones up 
 down to the depot as we go by. He never misses 
 seeing the train come in when he 's in town. Keep 
 close mouths, all of you. There 's a reward out, 
 and a clean capture means a little money and more 
 glory for you all."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 THE MAN IN THE PRIVATE CAR 
 
 WHEN the afternoon train pulled into the station 
 that day, it brought behind it a private car of more 
 than ordinary magnificence. Such arrivals were not 
 uncommon in the valley, but they invariably passed 
 on with the train. On this occasion the excitement 
 of the populace was aroused when, with a couple of 
 runs of the engine up and down the track, the car 
 was detached on a side-switch. 
 
 This excitement grew apace when it was whis 
 pered about that the owner and occupant of the 
 private car was none other than the Hon. Jasper 
 Harmon, foremost politician and silver-tongued ora 
 tor of the Pacific Coast, a power in the most august 
 body in the nation, and whp had lately received 
 prominent mention in connection with the highest 
 office in the gift of the people. 
 
 It was rumored that the senator had come up to 
 look after a wavering constituency in the Vernal 
 Hills. That so great a man should condescend to 
 mend his own political fences in this fertile region 
 invested the district and the people with new impor 
 tance in the latter's eyes. 
 
 The train, with a clangor of bell, a snort, and a 
 whistle, pulled out, but the crowd about the depot
 
 THE MAN IN THE PRIVATE CAR 285 
 
 mysteriously increased in numbers instead of dis 
 persing. 
 
 After a short delay the distinguished man, his 
 overcoat on his arm, descended from the car and 
 fraternally joined the crowd on the platform. 
 
 "Will any of you have the goodness to tell me 
 where I may find Armitage's studio?" he asked 
 pleasantly. 
 
 The sheriff, who, with his posse, had well-nigh 
 forgotten his search for the astute Jim Jones, as 
 sumed the responsibility of answering this inquiry, 
 as befitted his position of chief dignitary and lead 
 ing politician. 
 
 " Well, now, you get me ! " he responded cor 
 dially. "The only studios we got here is Lane's 
 and Ormsby's. But if you '11 accept my advice, sir, 
 I'm the sheriff of this county " (Harmon made 
 his acknowledgment of this introduction with a 
 graceful bow), "you'll go to Ormsby. Mind, I 
 ain't saying anything against Lane, but he takes 
 mostly tintypes, and you ought to 'a' seen the cabi 
 nets Ormsby took of my wife and children last 
 week. Group picture. If you 'd like to look at 
 it, my house 's only a step away " 
 
 The sheriff had his object in pressing this invita 
 tion. For a considerable time past he had enter 
 tained the belief that with his knowledge of the 
 language he would make a shining success as United 
 States Minister to Spain, should opportunity put 
 the chance in his way. A five minutes' walk with 
 this man of power, who was popularly known to 
 carry such trifling appointments up his sleeve,
 
 286 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 might in all probability accomplish his dearly cher 
 ished purpose. 
 
 Senator Harmon received this information and 
 invitation with the tact for which he was celebrated. 
 
 " Unfortunately, sir, I am not looking for a pho 
 tographer to-day. Mr. Armitage writes me that 
 he lives a little out of town, up a stream called 
 Escondido Creek." 
 
 "There 's just one Escondido Creek around here, 
 and there 's just one man lives up it," replied the 
 sheriff oracularly. "He 's a man named Paul. 
 Farmer by trade ! " pluming himself upon his cun 
 ning in thus diverting the crowd from any suspicion 
 they might entertain as to his party's mission, and 
 casting a warning look at his men. 
 
 "Farmer! Pooh!" sniffed Barry, the grain- 
 dealer, who had joined the throng and could not 
 permit this statement to go unchallenged for the 
 credit of the Vernal Hills agricultural district. 
 "He's no farmer! He came to me asking credit 
 for some corn he wanted to plant last spring. I 
 mistrusted him. I always mistrust these city men 
 begging your pardon, senator! " 
 
 "Oh, don't apologize to me. I was brought up 
 on a farm," said the visitor. 
 
 "An' I told him I did n't believe he knew enough 
 about farming to plant a kernel of corn right side 
 up. He thought pretty hard a minute, did this 
 here Mr. Paul, and then he said o' course he did! 
 All you had to do was to place 'em all carefully, 
 pinted end down ! " 
 
 All the company roared, the Hon. Jasper Har-
 
 THE MAN IN THE PRIVATE CAR 287 
 
 mon among the rest. One voice alone was raised 
 in Mr. Paul's defense, and this voice was McCabe's. 
 
 "All the same, before that fire came, he had as 
 pretty a field of corn as you 'd find in all the 
 country ! " 
 
 "Nonsense, man!" interrupted a waggish old 
 farmer. "He had it simply because no amount of 
 wrong farming could spoil crops this year in the 
 Vernal Hills. Why, I had a volunteer pumpkin- 
 vine that would persist in growing side my back 
 door last summer. My wife she poured scalding 
 water on it, and dug it up time and agin ; actually 
 salted it down once, an' thought she had it ! Well, 
 we went down camping to Point Concepcion for a 
 fortnight, an' when we got back, I '11 be durned if 
 the pesky thing hadn't clumb the kitchen porch an' 
 stuck a shoot through the top of a kitchen winder 
 my wife left open to keep the room well aired, an' 
 there, square over the stove, a-hangin' from the ceil 
 ing, was a couple of yellow pumpkins all ready for 
 Thanksgiving pies. Must have weighed fifty pounds 
 apiece. Lucky thing we got home when we did, 
 for if one o' them big golden apples had taken a 
 notion to drop down to get ready for roasting, 
 our stove would 'a' been nothing but a heap o' 
 scrap iron." 
 
 "Ah, those were pumpkins worth growing!" re 
 marked the senator genially. "I think it was in 
 one of your pumpkin patches here, along the foot 
 of the Vernal Hills, where that pretty little romance 
 transpired that I heard of the other day." 
 
 All the crowd looked blankly at the senator,
 
 288 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 who seemed to look each straight in the eye, with 
 an expression of the truest candor and earnest. 
 
 "What was that? Seems to me I heard tell of 
 it, but I disremember just this minute," said Barry, 
 the grain-dealer, putting on a reflective scowl. 
 
 "Oh, the story runs this way," said Harmon 
 thoughtfully. "A young railroad man, or banker 
 from the East, or foreign potentate I really for 
 get which was traveling on horseback through this 
 valley, when he turned into a nicely cultivated field 
 owned by one of your most prosperous ranchmen. 
 The owner came to meet him, and the young man 
 explained that he had heard great stories of the 
 big pumpkins raised in this locality, and wished to 
 verify them for himself. ' Is it actually true,' he 
 asked, ' that you raise pumpkins around here weigh 
 ing as much as a hundred and seventy pounds ? ' 
 
 " ' Now, see here, young man, ' said the farmer, 
 ' I 'm not one who wants to brag of the products 
 of the country, but seeing 's believing, and you just 
 come out to my pumpkin patch and take a look 
 'round for yourself.* 
 
 "So they both started off to the pumpkin-field, 
 stopping an instant at the house for the ranch 
 man to get on his best hat and to whisper a word 
 to his wife. They reached the field by a roundabout 
 way, and found a nice bit of bottom land, gentle 
 men, which kept its moisture all summer, and crops 
 growing all the fall; and the stranger was so carried 
 away by the glorious sight before him that he gasped 
 with amazement, and professed himself more than 
 satisfied with the proof of the fairy tales he had 
 heard.
 
 THE MAN IN THE PRIVATE CAR 289 
 
 '" They 're fair-sized, good for a prize at most 
 any Eastern county fair, every last one of 'em. 
 Out here competition's sharper,' said the farmer, 
 drawing out his knife and pruning an apple-tree. 
 ' But size ain't all there is to them pumpkins. Do 
 you know ' dropping his voice to a mysterious 
 whisper ' some of them big yellow ones, when 
 we cut 'em open, have pretty girls inside ! ' 
 
 "' You don't say! ' cried the stranger, very much 
 startled, and not knowing whether to think the old 
 man a liar or a lunatic. 
 
 " ' Yes, sir, ' the old farmer assured him. ' Now 
 there 's that big golden fellow near the tall almond- 
 tree. I don't know whether he '11 pan out one or 
 not, but he looks promisin'. You just watch while 
 I cut him open ! ' 
 
 "He made a slit around the stem end of the 
 pumpkin, which happened to be on top, and lifted 
 it off, and out stepped a pretty red -cheeked, black- 
 eyed girl, the ranchman's eldest daughter. The 
 story goes that the young nabob was so entranced 
 that he married the girl next week." 
 
 A general guffaw followed, in the midst of which 
 the waggish old ranchman stepped forward, and, 
 crooking his finger warningly at the senator, said 
 in a stage whisper : 
 
 "Now, look here, Senator Harmon! It 's a good 
 story, a blamed good story ! and it 's all right 
 your telling it here, for we 're a company of men. 
 But don't you go telling it round over the country, 
 or all our girls '11 go climbing into pumpkins, and 
 we shan't have ary one left to feed our stock! "
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 ROB'S POLITICAL CONVERSION 
 
 "BuT this isn't getting on in my errand up 
 here," resumed the senator, when the crowd had 
 its laugh out. "Is it possible that none of you can 
 tell me where I can find Armitage? A man like 
 him can't possibly have lived among you three years 
 and kept his light hid under a bushel. Armitage, 
 the famous painter, who stands at the head of 
 American landscape artists ! Armitage, who stripped 
 the Parisian schools of their medals when he was 
 a beardless boy! Time 's getting on," he said, con 
 sulting his watch; "I shall be greatly disappointed 
 if I can't find Armitage to-night." 
 
 Rob, who had, to his discomfiture, failed to dis 
 cover any trace of Mr. Paul's expected guest, a 
 couple of villagers and one lone commercial traveler 
 having been the only passengers to leave the train, 
 had been one of the enthralled listeners to the sena 
 tor's genial story -telling. He heard this speech 
 with his head in a whirl. A sudden recollection 
 engulfed him. When parting with Fowler back 
 in the mountains, nearly a year before, upon the 
 occasion of his visit to the surveyors' camp, the 
 chief had called after him : 
 
 "Be sure to give my compliments to Armitage,
 
 ROB'S POLITICAL CONVERSION 291 
 
 and ask him to take care of any of the boys I may 
 send down ! " 
 
 "Armitage! " Rob had -repeated, looking blankly 
 at the young surveyor, "Armitage ! Who 's he ? " 
 
 "Hang it.! 'I meant to say Mr. Paul. Names 
 are such confounded things. I 'm always getting 
 them mixed in these high altitudes," was Fowler's 
 naive apology, and Rob had ridden away, never 
 giving the matter a second thought till now. 
 
 He pushed his way through the crowd, his heart 
 throbbing like a drum. 
 
 "Beg your pardon, sir! I think I know the 
 gentleman you 're looking for. He was expecting 
 somebody on the train to-day." 
 
 "Then you're my man!" exclaimed the senator 
 heartily. "Can you show me the way up there this 
 afternoon? Eh, going up there yourself? Can 
 give me a seat in your cart? That 's capital ! Well, 
 Isaiah," to his negro servant, who had come for 
 ward for parting orders, " look for me when I come, 
 and keep the boys straight while I 'm gone." 
 
 Saying which, the visitor swung himself into the 
 cart by Rob's side, and the two rode off together 
 to the wonder and surprise of the crowd. 
 
 "If there is any way of traveling I like more 
 than another, it is jaunting in one of these little 
 carts over a country road," declared the senator, as 
 the sorrel mare sped through the village and past 
 orchards with green leaves still clinging to branches 
 where spring buds were swelling. 
 
 This speech was an immense relief to Rob, who 
 had been secretly very much embarrassed at having
 
 292 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 to invite so celebrated a man to take a seat in so 
 shabby and insignificant a vehicle ; for the cart had 
 long since lost its polish and gloss, thumping over 
 rough roads in rain and sunshine, and presented a 
 decidedly weather-beaten appearance. 
 
 Now Rob, all of whose political proclivities and 
 family traditions pointed to alliance with a very 
 different party from that which Senator Harmon 
 so ably represented, was destined to have the party 
 affiliations of his life changed in the course of a 
 single hour's ride. 
 
 "Live on a farm, eh? When I was a boy, I used 
 to live on a farm in western New York; " and the 
 senator began a story of simple experience, which 
 moved the boy as no tale of romance he had ever 
 read had power to do. 
 
 Hitherto Rob had regarded the party which Mr. 
 Harmon represented, and which chanced to be the 
 party in power, as a mere aggregation of rogues 
 and tricksters, its motive plunder, its policy knav 
 ery. But listening to the honorable orator's plea 
 sant little talk at the station, he had already begun 
 to modify his previous convictions. Had he but 
 known it, his political fate was sealed. 
 
 When Senator Harmon got to the point of mak 
 ing a confidence about "When I was a boy on a 
 farm," he was irresistible. Vast audiences had 
 thrilled under his frank accounts of his boyhood 
 life, wavering voters had been conciliated, rabid 
 enemies discomfited. Before Rob had reached the 
 county highway, he was wondering whether men, 
 after all, were not of much more importance than
 
 ROB'S POLITICAL CONVERSION 293 
 
 parties or political principles. Before they had 
 turned off into the hill road, he had decided that the 
 sentiments of Senator Harmon were worth adopt 
 ing without question. Long before they reached 
 the mesa, he was eagerly reckoning the days and 
 months that would elapse before his name would 
 be on the great register, and he could proudly 
 follow the senator as his standard-bearer, and cast 
 his vote for him and his party. 
 
 Nor did Mr. Harmon confine the conversation to 
 himself. As they approached the hills, his obser 
 vant eye detected signs of the scourge which had 
 swept down their slopes a few weeks previous, and 
 little by little he drew from Rob a modest account 
 of his own part in the stern fight that had been 
 waged to check it. He saw the marks on the boy's 
 hands and face, and said with a sincerity of feeling 
 that no man could have affected : 
 
 "Honorable scars, my boy. Be proud of them 
 to the end of your days. Not half the heroes are 
 found at the battle front." 
 
 A man of broad and varied tastes, Harmon was 
 keenly alive to the beauty of the scenery as they 
 began to climb the hills, and every turn of the road 
 disclosed some new and charming view. His simple, 
 appreciative comments disclosed a strong vein of 
 sentiment that underlaid a character at once bold 
 and diplomatic, aggressive and tactful. As they 
 came out upon the edge of the mesa overlooking 
 the windings of Escondido Creek, Rob pointed out 
 the quaint cabin, looking like some mimic fortress,' 
 with massive breastwork of stone and great trees
 
 294 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 doing sentinel duty beside it, which formed Mr. 
 Paul's habitation. 
 
 "Armitage has chosen a charming retreat! " cried 
 the senator, with enthusiasm. "And you live in 
 the cottage up there in the tree? What an original 
 idea, and what a picture it makes ! You 're highly 
 favored, my boy, in having a man of Armitage 's 
 culture for a friend and neighbor. No one can 
 measure the influence of refined associations." 
 
 Now Rob, who every little while was overcome 
 with desperate uncertainty as to whether he might 
 not have made a stupendous mistake in seizing upon 
 this gentleman as Mr. Paul's expected friend, was 
 tortured with a succession of grotesque pictures at 
 the great man's every reference to Armitage. The 
 picture that now arose before his mind's eye was 
 of Mr. Paul in blue overalls and jumper, plodding 
 along the moist furrows with bent shoulders, hold 
 ing the ploughshare to its course, while he, Rob, 
 followed after, dropping grain. Again, he recalled 
 him exhausted, his face dripping perspiration, throw 
 ing himself down in the shade of tree or bush to 
 snatch a frugal luncheon. 
 
 "Pity he should bury himself up here. Society 
 can ill spare Armitage. He 's one of the most 
 delightful fellows I ever knew." 
 
 The picture that Rob saw now was of Mr. Paul 
 at the supper-board, too tired to eat, but disguising 
 his lack of appetite with gay speech and merry 
 anecdote. Something swelled in Rob's throat. He 
 did not know whether to laugh or to cry. Always 
 a gentleman ; always polished of manner and cour-
 
 ROB'S POLITICAL CONVERSION 295 
 
 teous of speech, patient and forbearing under every 
 trial and discouragement. And instead of the poor 
 and luckless farmer Rob had imagined him, could 
 he be Armitage, the celebrated artist, one of the 
 great men of the earth? What did it all mean? 
 The problem was too much for the boy's brain. 
 
 Amy's predictions were already on their way to 
 fulfillment, and a cloak of green, nourished by new 
 elements in the soil, covered the ground below the 
 cottage, and the delicate tracery of vines was be 
 ginning to show against the gnarled oaks. Most 
 marvelous of all, the oaks themselves, with boles still 
 black and charred, were putting forth fresh leaves. 
 
 Under them stood a slight girlish figure clad in 
 short denim gown and rubber boots, directing the 
 stream from a hose upon the green carpet. 
 
 Senator Harmon looked at her long and keenly, 
 then over his face came a look of surprised recog 
 nition as he lifted his hat in grave courtesy, while 
 Rob, with a nod and wave of his hand, drove on. 
 
 In the canon the ravages of the fire were more 
 noticeable, but nature was already covering the 
 scars, and an early rain had freshened the land 
 scape, effacing the uglier traces of the fire-fiend's 
 work. The cabin, now silhouetted against the rich 
 greens of the untouched hillside beyond, looked 
 mediaeval in its simplicity, but the place had a 
 deserted air. 
 
 "You are sure Armitage is expecting me? I 
 wouldn't intrude upon him for the world, if he's 
 occupied," said the senator, with sudden misgiving. 
 
 "He 's looking for you," said Rob doggedly, de-
 
 296 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 termined to see his blunder, if blunder it be, to the 
 bitter end. Again a queer reminiscence assailed 
 him. He remembered the time when he had found 
 fault with Mr. Paul's furrows, insisting that they 
 were neither straight nor true. And Mr. Paul, 
 resigning the task to him and meekly accepting his 
 seed-apron in exchange, had tramped behind him, 
 and, looking back when the field was traversed, had 
 acknowledged with humility that the boy's furrow 
 was much more creditable than his own. Rob had 
 been very gracious that time, and had kindly under 
 taken to show Mr. Paul the cause of his superior 
 work, directing him how to hold the plough-handles, 
 and just how to bear down upon them when the 
 implement struck against a rock or root. And Mr. 
 Paul had certainly profited by his teaching, and 
 been a much better ploughman thereafter. 
 
 Rob had an hysterical impulse to laugh, as he 
 wondered what the world would think if it could 
 know that he had actually trained Mr. Armitage 
 Armitage, the great landscape painter ! to plough 
 straight furrows. Oh, the absurdity, the towering 
 impertinence of it! 
 
 The door of the cabin opened, and Mr. Paul 
 appeared. Harmon sprang from the cart and has 
 tened up the steps. 
 
 "Armitage! My dear fellow, how are you! " 
 
 "It was good of you to come all the way up here, 
 Harmon ! " 
 
 "I 'd do it any day to see you. What have you 
 been doing all this time ? All the world has been 
 wondering where you have been hiding."
 
 ROB'S POLITICAL CONVERSION 297 
 
 The two men passed into the house, talking fast 
 and eagerly, with the freedom and confidence of 
 old friends. A few minutes later the door opened 
 and Mr. Paul came down the steps, stopping short 
 as he saw Rob. 
 
 "Rob, I beg your pardon. I'd completely for 
 gotten you. Let me tie the horse to a tree while 
 you run up to the cottage and bring Amy. Say 
 to her that I wish her to be present at the lifting 
 of the black curtain." 
 
 Rob never knew how he covered the ground lying 
 between cabin and cottage. Flushed and breathless 
 he burst upon his sister, who, embarrassed at her 
 recent encounter, was standing with folded arms 
 resting on a window-sill and looking out upon the 
 distant sea. 
 
 "Amy!" he cried, "come at once! Mr. Paul 
 wants you. And he is n't Mr. Paul at all, but he 's 
 Armitage, the famous painter, Senator Harmon's 
 friend."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 A CHAPTER OF REVELATIONS 
 
 "ARMITAGE, who is that boy?" 
 
 "Robert Judith." 
 
 "Judith. I thought so. Has his father's brow 
 and eyes. You remember Tom Judith? Used to 
 be on the Stock Board. Shot himself when the 
 crash in Consolidated Virginia came. The shock 
 killed his wife. But tell me, how in the name of 
 common sense does Amy Judith happen to be up 
 here?" 
 
 "Amy Judith?" 
 
 "Yes, Amy Judith. I never forget a face. I 
 knew her the moment I saw her, but, coming upon 
 that exquisite little girl in a short gown and rubber 
 boots, irrigating a berry patch, I confess I was posed 
 for a moment." 
 
 "Amy Judith? She why, she 's homesteading 
 government land," was the embarrassed reply. 
 
 "Homesteading! You must be mistaken, Armi- 
 tage." 
 
 "I have pretty good reason to be sure of it," 
 replied the young man ruefully. 
 
 "It's inconceivable! That gifted little being! 
 You 're quite sure, Armitage, that your head 's level 
 and I haven't a bee in my bonnet? Amy Judith
 
 A CHAPTER OF REVELATIONS 299 
 
 turned ranchwoman, and trying to establish a title 
 to a quarter section of government land ! Wonders 
 will never cease." 
 
 Somehow this speech inspired the younger man 
 with a wretched sense of discomfort. 
 
 "Miss Judith is certainly a charming woman, 
 but I don't know that I should characterize her as 
 ' gifted.' So you know her, Harmon?" 
 
 "Know her! Man alive! I never had the plea 
 sure of a personal acquaintance with her, but who 
 in San Francisco did n't know her? " 
 
 "I didn't. I never heard of her till I came up 
 here, Harmon. Isn't there some mistake?" 
 
 " Mistake ! You pretend to say you never heard 
 of Amy Judith? Confound you, Armitage! You 
 artists are always so clannish, you don't realize 
 there 's a world outside your set. Why, man, all 
 San Francisco was raving over Amy Judith's voice 
 three years ago. I heard her at a private recital 
 given before the Bohemian Club the night before I 
 left for Japan. Great Scott, how she sang ! Her 
 voice was surpassingly pure and sweet, and of phe 
 nomenal range. They called her ' the coming Patti. ' 
 She was to make her first public appearance the 
 following week. I don't keep up with such matters 
 myself, but I supposed she 'd sung her way to fame 
 and fortune long ago." 
 
 " Hush ! She 's coming. " 
 
 On their way to Mr. Paul's cabin Rob's attention 
 was attracted by the peculiar actions of the mastiff, 
 who accompanied them, and who was evidently 
 very much excited by the presence of some wild
 
 300 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 beast somewhere in the canon, whose approach his 
 keen scfint had detected. Hercules barked furi 
 ously, and made savage dashes into the thick growth 
 of chaparral beyond the cabin, returning from these 
 sorties, his dark eyes eloquent with appeal. 
 
 "Quiet, Hercules!" commanded his young mas 
 ter. "What do you care if a wildcat or badger is 
 sneaking down to rob some ranchman's hen-roost 
 to-night? They 're not your chickens, sir! " 
 
 But these remonstrances had no effect on the 
 animal, who continued to make fiercer attacks upon 
 the thickets, gradually changing the direction of 
 his skirmishes further and further up the gulch. 
 
 "If I had time, I 'd come and see what it is, old 
 boy. But just now I 'd advise you to let up on 
 your chase." 
 
 Rob's advice was wiser than he knew. He little 
 guessed that more than once, when Hercules barked 
 so loudly in the chaparral, the dog was looking 
 down the barrel of a Winchester, loaded and cocked. 
 
 Amy Judith had changed her gardening-gown for 
 a plain white mull without garniture or ornament, 
 but no queen ever carried her crown with a more 
 regal bearing than her head wore its coronet of fair 
 braids. Yet in the deep-blue eyes was a look that 
 challenged Paul Armitage to account for his decep 
 tion. 
 
 "Mr. Harmon, Miss Judith! Rob, you need no 
 introduction." 
 
 Senator Harmon took her hand with a pleasant 
 little speech. The girl was very quiet and subdued. 
 All her ready wit and sprightliness seemed to have
 
 A CHAPTER OF REVELATIONS 301 
 
 deserted her, and not even the stranger's mag 
 netic conversation could arouse her to any animation. 
 
 "Miss Amy, I wanted you to be present at the 
 lifting of the black curtain," said Armitage lightly. 
 Then, to Harmon : 
 
 "I've been hoping the sun might come out and 
 give us better light. It 's a pity, when you 've trav 
 eled so far to see it, Harmon, that we should have 
 this dull, overcast day and obscure atmosphere. 
 The fog seems to have got into the room." 
 
 His friend eyed Armitage curiously. In the 
 course of his life he had many times encountered 
 that humility which laments the quality of fare or 
 accommodation which is placed before a guest, but 
 it struck him that this was an entirely new phase 
 of hospitality which deprecated the quality of its 
 sunlight. 
 
 Armitage led the way to the further end of the 
 apartment and laid his hand on the heavy draperies. 
 
 ."Miss Amy first, if you don't mind, Harmon." 
 
 With a quick movement of his hand he swept 
 aside the black curtain, and the four found them 
 selves gazing into the mysterious space that lay 
 beyond.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 THE SHERIFF MEETS HIS WATERLOO 
 
 THE sheriff and his posse, traveling for the most 
 part on foot and by many and devious routes, as 
 became brave men who had atn important capture 
 in prospect and must needs approach it warily, at 
 last reached a point in the east arm of the gulch 
 below Mr. Paul's cabin, and stopped to hold a coun 
 cil of war. 
 
 "If he sees us coming, he'll know everything's 
 up, and most likely fire. There 's no use throw 
 ing our lives away. No more do we want to kill 
 him. He 's worth more alive than dead," said the 
 sheriff. " Jim Jones, you know the country up here 
 better 'n I do. What 's your idea of how to go to 
 work? " 
 
 "Well now, Mr. Sheriff, if you reely want my 
 idee, and ain't got no better man to advise you," 
 replied Jim Jones, exhibiting a becoming modesty 
 over this distinction that commended him to all his 
 hearers, "I say we 'd better climb up .the side hill 
 there to that steep place the fire missed, I '11 tell 
 you when we reach it, an' then lay low and creep 
 through the chaparral till we git round yon, where 
 there 's neyther brush nor yit trees in the way, and 
 I can level my glass on the windows an' see the lay
 
 THE SHERIFF MEETS HIS WATERLOO 303 
 
 of the land before we go down, which last I 'd do 
 at nightfall, sure, and no sooner! " 
 
 The glass Jim alluded to was a fine field-glass 
 which he was accustomed to carry with him on his 
 mountain trips, and which swung from a strap over 
 his shoulder. 
 
 The party cautiously advanced under cover of 
 the trees, until Jim gave the signal to climb the 
 hillside, an ascent accomplished with difficulty, for 
 the slope was nearly vertical, and the substratum 
 of rock but thinly veneered with a slippery coating 
 of soil and short deer-grass, which afforded an 
 uncertain foothold, but they at length halted for 
 further orders, staying themselves by clutching at 
 the brush and weeds. 
 
 "It ought to be along here, but it ain.'t. Must 
 be a little higher. Here it is," said Jim Jones. 
 "It ain't much of a trail. I 'm not settled myself 
 whether" it 's one of the old Indian paths, grown 
 over, or jest a mountain lion or coyote path. But 
 it goes through all right. I followed fox tracks 
 all the way up it one day last spring." 
 
 The stouter members of the company looked 
 doubtfully at the slender parting in the chaparral, 
 roofed over with tightly interlaced green boughs. 
 The brush on either side seemed impenetrable. 
 
 "No danger o' going astray ! " chuckled Watkins. 
 
 At the command of their superior officer, the 
 men plunged into this burrow, Burnham leading 
 and the others following in single file, the sheriff 
 near the rear of the procession, with Jim Jones close 
 behind him.
 
 304 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Now the sheriff of the Vernal Hills district, al 
 beit a very efficient and democratic officer, as may 
 be seen by this personal participation in the perils 
 of the execution of the law, was a gentleman of 
 Falstaffian proportions, and it chanced that midway 
 in the course of this painful journey he stuck fast 
 between a projecting root, on the one hand, and a 
 jutting ledge, on the other. 
 
 It would be impossible to describe the wretched 
 ness of the shrievalty's body, or the embarrassment 
 of its mind, in this unparalleled predicament. The 
 man in advance could by no possibility turn around 
 to come to his chief's relief, and the man behind 
 had but limited opportunity to assist in the big 
 man's rescue. To add to the horrors of the situa 
 tion, some great tawny beast, with the roar of an 
 African lion, was darting into the chaparral beside 
 him, threatening the helpless man with instant an 
 nihilation. 
 
 "Draw a bead on him, Bob! He 's coming 
 straight at me. I can see his dripping fangs. 
 Can't you break away that root, Jim Jones? A 
 pretty pickle you 've got me in, have n't you ! Oh, 
 give me my hands where my legs are, and I 'd be 
 out of this fix in a jiffy! " 
 
 "If I had a drill and a pinch of giant powder 
 now," said Jim Jones slowly, "I 'd make a hole in 
 this rock and blow it to smithereens before you 
 could say Jack Robinson." 
 
 "Much good it 'd do me! " groaned the sheriff. 
 
 Jim considered the situation from a scientific 
 point of view.
 
 THE SHERIFF MEETS HIS WATERLOO 305 
 
 "Well, now, it seems to me, you got in this place 
 goin' for'ards. And I argy that what 's done can 
 always be undone, if you go sensible about it. 
 You 've pulled ahead, an' pulled ahead, till you 've 
 wedged yourself like a cork in a bottle. Wherefore 
 we '11 just try the contrary. Now I '11 lay hold of 
 your legs, an' you back for all you 're worth! " 
 
 In his zeal to extricate himself from his unhappy 
 dilemma, the sheriff exceeded his instructions. He 
 kicked out violently with one leg, narrowly missing 
 Jim Jones's right eye, and striking the latter 's 
 precious field-glass a blow with his hob-nailed boot 
 that discounted an ostrich's kick. 
 
 "Now you 've done it. Broke one o' my lenses, 
 da-a-arn you!" howled Jim Jones, as the sheriff, 
 made free by this Herculean effort, contrived to 
 face him in a sitting posture. Before so great a 
 catastrophe the shrievalty was mute. 
 
 " The best glass ever made in Frisco ! I would n't 
 ha' taken two hundred dollars for it," Jim went 
 on, examining the injured instrument. Then, in 
 a sudden burst of wrath : 
 
 "What do you mean, a-throwing up your heels 
 that away like a yearling colt? You ought to be 
 ashamed o' yourself. Sheriff o' this county, too ! " 
 
 "I did n't mean to, Jim," said the sheriff humbly. 
 "I I '11 get you a better one ! " 
 
 " Where '11 you get it? In the Vernal Hills, 
 eh?" 
 
 "Jim, I '11 give you half my part of the reward 
 share an' share alike, when we get this counterfeiter 
 in jail. I 've got to pay the other men, but I '11
 
 306 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 cut them down to the lowest notch an' go snacks 
 with you." 
 
 "I s'pose it 's the best I can do, but I 'd a heap 
 rather have my field-glass," grumbled Jim sulkily. 
 "Well, git along now, and make time! And don't 
 be gittin' stuck in the next thornbush you come 
 to, or I '11 leave you there for the buzzards to 
 pick!" 
 
 With scratched faces, grimy and ragged garments, 
 and damaged tempers, the party finally emerged in 
 the clearing. Jim Jones was still soured by the 
 accident that had befallen his glass. 
 
 "Ain't no use tryin' to see with one glass. Ain't 
 no focus to it! " he grumbled, vainly trying to level 
 his one remaining lens and fix a single optic on the 
 row of windows fronting them in the little cabin. 
 "All I can see, they 's two men in the room, an' 
 they ain't doin' a blamed thing but standin' still! 
 Darn 'em!" 
 
 "What's tljat shinin' thing On the north roof? 
 Glass! I can see that much with my naked eye," 
 said Burnham. 
 
 "Then that means a light in the roof of the part 
 the black curtain shuts off ! " 
 
 "You're right, boys! That's his little work 
 shop where he makes the stuff! " 
 
 "Tell you. what, Jim Jones," said the sheriff 
 propitiatingly, "knowin' the lay of the land, sup 
 pose you slide down there an' try an' see what 's 
 goin' on through the windows." 
 
 " I ' ve a better idee 'n that, sheriff. You see 
 how nigh that ledge o' rock is to the roof. I '11
 
 THE SHERIFF MEETS HIS WATERLOO 307 
 
 take off my shoes, an' git on the roof, an' take a 
 squint at the whole blame outfit." 
 
 This valiant proposal was hailed with general 
 approval. 
 
 "Mind, you fire your six-shooter if you're in 
 trouble, or want we should close in ! " suggested the 
 sheriff. Jim Jones forthwith departed, while the 
 remainder of the posse, painfully conscious that 
 their exposed position might make them a target 
 for a shot from the desperate occupant of the cabin, 
 should they be detected, strove to efface themselves 
 from observation by identifying themselves with the 
 ledge in every imaginable cramped attitude, while 
 they patiently awaited the result of Jim Jones's 
 reconnoissance. 
 
 The scout felt himself peculiarly favored on this 
 expedition when he found that the great dog, who 
 had been angrily watching and loudly announcing 
 the progress of the party through the brush, had 
 temporarily subsided. He worked his way, unob 
 served, to the vicinity of the cabin, and gained a 
 position on the hillside where Mr. Paul had chiseled 
 out his stone chimney, making the roof of easy 
 access. Gaining this with the stealth and agility 
 of a cat, the scout stood erect to take observations, 
 and was startled to perceive Miss Judith and her 
 brother coming together down the road and making 
 a straight course for the cabin. 
 
 Now by the same token that he detested Mr. 
 Paul, Jim Jones cherished a great admiration for 
 Miss Judith, and he immediately laid flat against 
 the cabin roof, thanking his lucky stars that he had
 
 308 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 seen the young lady in time, and in the same breath 
 anathematizing his ill luck for setting this particular 
 day and hour for the apprehension of the law 
 breaker. 
 
 He heard Mr. Paul's hearty greeting, a door 
 which opened and shut, and then the murmur of 
 voices, which appeared to gradually move towards 
 the north end of the house, until he could plainly 
 distinguish them directly beneath that portion of 
 the roof on which he was lying. It is to be feared 
 that it was a consuming curiosity, rather than any 
 sense of good faith to the mission upon which he 
 had been dispatched, which led him to draw him 
 self, inch by inch, like a writhing serpent, along 
 the ridgepole to where the skylight glittered in the 
 sunshine. 
 
 This point at length gained, he peered cautiously 
 over the edge of the panes and dimly saw Mr. Paul, 
 Miss Judith, and Rob, together with a strange 
 gentleman whose countenance was somewhat famil 
 iar, the gaze of all seemingly concentrated upon 
 some object on the opposite side of the apartment. 
 
 Jim Jones felt that he must gain a view of this 
 interesting object, whatever it was, and he accord 
 ingly again mounted to the ridgepole, and essayed 
 to drag himself noiselessly along the slippery shakes.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE BLACK CUETAIN IS LIFTED 
 
 THE little apartment disclosed by the lifting of 
 the black curtain was as bare and destitute of com 
 fort as a monk's cell. A case with drawers, a stool, 
 an easel, a jar with brushes, constituted its sole fit 
 tings, but against the easel rested a canvas, which 
 drew from Harmon a low exclamation of delight. 
 
 The scene was laid in the depths of a wood. 
 The shadows were deep and long, but the rays of 
 the setting sun found their way through the dense 
 canopy of foliage and fell full upon a feminine 
 figure clad in some ethereal gray stuff, a crown of 
 scarlet berries on her shining hair, the glory and 
 expectation of immortal youth in her startled eyes. 
 Suppleness and grace were in every line of the slen 
 der figure, which stood with one bare foot lightly 
 resting upon the roots of a gnarled oak, and with 
 a shapely arm upraised, as if she were surprised in 
 the act of touching some secret latch which gave 
 admission to her sylvan dwelling. 
 
 "The Hamadryad! I see you've gone back to 
 Greek mythology for your subject," said Harmon 
 thoughtfully. "Armitage, it is your masterpiece! " 
 
 Rob was gazing, entranced, at this magical crea 
 tion of human fancy and human hands. But ah!
 
 310 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 he could not help remembering the baser uses to 
 which these hands had been so often put, the heavy 
 tasks they had performed, the homely drudgery they 
 had so patiently discharged. 
 
 Amy could not speak. Her thoughts flew back 
 to a Christmas Day when she had declared a truce 
 with her enemy and he had crowned her with man- 
 zanita berries. Mr. Paul had plainly found his 
 magic purse again. It need nevermore be empty. 
 
 "I 'm sorry the light is so poor," said the young 
 man again. "It's rather a dark picture to show 
 on such a dismal day." 
 
 Again Harmon marveled. A mellow glow fell 
 through the skylight above, flooding the picture 
 with light. 
 
 "Miss Amy, "said the painter, coming around to 
 her side and speaking in an undertone, "I hope 
 you '11 forgive the harmless . little deception about 
 my name. The fact is, I came up here for an in 
 definite period, to rest my eyes. It was imperative. 
 The only way to do it was to hide from everybody, 
 for they besieged me with commissions. It was 
 a constant temptation. This was done on an old 
 order I had from the national government. I 've 
 been on the point of telling you more than once. 
 But there was so much to be explained." 
 
 He stopped abruptly. 
 
 "It isn't of the least consequence. Don't give 
 it a second thought," returned Amy indifferently. 
 "What does a name amount to, anyhow? Our 
 fathers changed theirs at pleasure, and no three 
 generations in the same family are likely to retain
 
 THE BLACK CURTAIN IS LIFTED 311 
 
 the same spelling where there is a chance for devia 
 tion." 
 
 "True," said Armitage. "Even the law recog 
 nizes a man's right to name and rename himself 
 at pleasure, and he can legally transact business 
 under any title he chooses to adopt, so long as it 
 isn't another man's property, or he doesn't assume 
 it for dishonest purposes." 
 
 "In this case the offense amounts to nothing," 
 assented Amy. "We have merely formed a little 
 habit which it may take time to unlearn. That 
 is all." 
 
 This sounded very amiable and reasonable, but 
 Armitage could not help wishing that Amy were 
 not quite so complaisant. 
 
 "We have each had some reserves from the 
 other," he said meaningly. 
 
 The senator turned to the young lady. 
 
 "And this is the little song-bird who enchanted 
 all the critics of the Bohemian Club," he remarked, 
 with a pleasant smile. "How do you come to have 
 hidden yourself away in this wilderness, Miss Ju 
 dith? Pardon me for saying that you have a future 
 too brilliant to be sacrificed in this way." 
 
 "The bird was slain that very night, Mr. Har 
 mon," she replied, with piteous candor. "I sup 
 pose I went out into the fog without muffling my 
 throat properly. The next time I tried to sing, my 
 voice was gone." 
 
 " Surely you took medical advice ? A good phy 
 sician ought to have helped you." 
 
 "I saw them all. There was nothing to be done,"
 
 312 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 she said, the bitterness of memory making her voice 
 pathetic. "It was an obstinate form of throat 
 trouble, never any acute inflammation, but in chronic 
 form from the first. I was advised to come up here, 
 but I put hope behind me." 
 
 Her simple story of disappointment and failure 
 seemed to. emphasize the distance between the great 
 painter, whose touch was like the alchemist's of old, 
 bringing fortune, friends, and fame, and herself, a 
 helpless woman, with her one talent destroyed. 
 
 Armitage appeared to be looking past her, listen 
 ing intently, with an expression on his face she had 
 never seen before. 
 
 "I beg your pardon for bringing this up," said 
 Harmon, in genuine contrition. 
 
 "It belongs to another life," said Amy Judith 
 steadily. "I have found new occupation, new inter 
 ests, and I am perfectly content, perfectly happy." 
 
 At this moment there came an unexpected diver 
 sion. A shadow darkened the skylight, there was 
 a sound of something slipping and scrambling on 
 the roof, and the next instant, with a shower of 
 glass, a man crashed head first through the flimsy 
 skylight, striking a palette spread with fresh colors 
 that was lying on the chest of drawers, thence 
 caroming to the floor, which he reached in a sitting 
 posture, while with a sullen report a revolver dis 
 charged, sending a ball of large calibre harmlessly 
 into the wall. 
 
 All gathered around this unbidden guest to ascer 
 tain his identity, and incidentally to discover the 
 extent of his injuries.
 
 THE BLACK CURTAIN IS LIFTED 313 
 
 The man himself was too dazed to speak, but sat 
 upright and stared foolishly about him. 
 
 "This is rather an unceremonious descent upon 
 us, my fine fellow," said Harmon. "What's your 
 name? Can't you present your card? " 
 
 Still the new-comer stared speechlessly about him. 
 
 "I should say he was suffering from an ultrama 
 rine concussion of the brain and a raw umber frac 
 ture of the maxillary process," asserted Harmon, 
 gravely addressing Armitage. 
 
 "He's certainly got a chrome-yellow contusion 
 of the right eye, and a complication of sepia and 
 prussian blue on his cheek," returned Armitage as 
 seriously. 
 
 "With a liberal shading of rose madder," sug 
 gested Miss Judith, for streaks of blood trickling 
 down the intruder's face began to testify to the 
 wounds he had received in transit, and, combined 
 with his plastering of moist colors, caused him to 
 resemble an Indian brave who had been studying 
 in the impressionist school. 
 
 "How would it do to treat him on the homoeo 
 pathic plan? Give him a dose of Venetian red and 
 apply a plaster of cobalt? " pursued Harmon. 
 
 "I should incline to a surgical operation on the 
 allopathic principle," replied Armitage. "It seems 
 to me his only hope is heroic scraping with the 
 palette knife." 
 
 "Was I saying anything about the political situ 
 ation? What paper do you think he represents? 
 How much do you suppose he overheard? " asked 
 Harmon of Armitage, in an undertone.
 
 314 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "I don't really think he is a reporter," Armitage 
 replied, scrutinizing the features of his unbidden 
 guest as well as he could with their bizarre decora 
 tions. "I believe he's a fellow who lives around 
 here, a man known as Jim Jones, perfectly inno 
 cent of writing for the press, whatever other iniqui 
 ties he may be guilty of." 
 
 "Thank Heaven! " said the senator. 
 
 "Jim Jones," said Armitage severely, "what 
 were you doing on my roof?" 
 
 "Darn your old roof and your skylight!" said 
 Jim Jones vigorously, finding breath and voice. 
 "I '11 sue you for damages, having 16 oz. glass in 
 that skylight, see if I don't! The idee that when 
 a man 's chasing a coyote down the hills an' the 
 critter jumps on a roof, an' a man follers after him, 
 he 's got to tumble through death-traps like this! " 
 
 "Chasing coyotes on a roof! " Rob bent dou 
 ble with laughter. 
 
 The senator, with his unfailing tact, relieved the 
 strain of the occasion. 
 
 "Rather a sudden notion, this hunting-trip of 
 yours, Jones! I believe I saw you at the station 
 as our train pulled in. Now, Mr. Jones," he went 
 on suavely, "I respect your modesty, and I do not 
 doubt Mr. Armitage sympathizes with the delicacy 
 you show hi trying to conceal the real object of 
 your visit. But we 're all art lovers here, Jones, 
 and there 's not one among us that does n't admire 
 the enterprise of a man who will climb the roof of 
 a house to get a peep at a painting like this through 
 a skylight. Brought your field-glass along, too, I
 
 THE BLACK CURTAIN IS LIFTED 315 
 
 see. Now, Armitage, here 's a tribute such as you 
 might n't receive again in a lifetime. Get up, get 
 up, Mr. Jones. Never mind your wounds. They 're 
 obtained in a noble cause. Satisfy to the full the 
 cravings of your aesthetic mind." 
 
 Jim Jones, recovering his wits, such as they 
 were, dimly realized that something was expected 
 of him, and, awkwardly struggling to his feet, drew 
 his glass from its leather case, and, covering the 
 damaged barrel of the instrument with his hand, 
 directed it upon the canvas, focusing it with elab 
 orate attention. 
 
 "Better perspective than when you look at it 
 upside down, Jones ? " queried the senator. 
 
 "Heap better! " said Jones desperately. 
 
 "What do you think of the chiaro-oscuro, Jones? " 
 
 "Tiptop!" returned Jones, seeking safety in 
 brevity of answer. 
 
 "Let me see your glass, Jones." 
 
 The miserable man could do no less than extend 
 the instrument to his inquisitor. 
 
 Harmon examined it with a quiet smile. 
 
 " Ha ! I thought it was an original-looking instru 
 ment. Sort of monocular, isn't it? Or perhaps 
 you have a glass eye, Jones?" 
 
 "I 've got just as good a pair of eyes as any man 
 in the Vernal Hills! " declared Jones hotly. 
 
 "Glad to hear it, Jones. It's plain to see you 
 have the right ideas on art. Some day I 'd like 
 to have a talk with you about the old masters. I 'd 
 value your opinion about Murillo, Raphael, Rubens, 
 and the lot. To-day my time's limited; but I'm
 
 316 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 very happy to have met with a gentleman possessed 
 of the refreshing interest in high art you 've evinced 
 to-day. If you should ever visit the national capi 
 tal, I 'd take pleasure in handing you passes to the 
 art galleries." 
 
 ( "Darn him! He was as polite an' palavering as 
 you please, an' I couldn't tell, to save me, whether 
 he was in dead earnest or only in joke, for all the 
 while there was a twinkle in his eye whenever he 
 looked at me," said Jim Jones, when retailing his 
 adventure to the sheriff and his force that night. 
 "But he slicked things over for me when I was in 
 the wust mess of my life, and he gets my vote next 
 election, you bet ! " ) 
 
 "I believe my car 's booked to pull out on the early 
 morning train, Armitage. Won't you come along? 
 Take a little run down to Los Angeles with me." 
 
 "Not this time, Harmon, thank you. Of course 
 you '11 give my regards to the boys when you reach 
 San Francisco. And you '11 see Norcross and take 
 up that note. But about the picture? " 
 
 "Better express it direct to Washington. I shall 
 be back there in a month." 
 
 They were moving towards the outer door, through 
 the black curtain, which parted sullenly to let them 
 pass, along the great room with its odd appoint 
 ments, the flotsam and jetsam of a city studio. Jim 
 Jones brought up the rear of the procession, re 
 lieved at being for the moment spared the embarrass 
 ment of the distinguished visitor's attentions, and 
 looking eagerly for a chance of escape, when they 
 were all startled by the simultaneous firing of a
 
 THE BLACK CURTAIN IS LIFTED 317 
 
 fusillade of shots outside, accompanied by a loud 
 pounding on the door of the cabin. "Give yourself 
 up peaceable, and we won't hurt a hair o' your head ! " 
 shouted a voice from without, and in the same in 
 stant there was a fierce bay and a wild stampede. 
 
 "In the name of common sense, Armitage, are 
 these every-day occurrences in your Arcadian re 
 treat?" demanded the senator. 
 
 "Not exactly, Harmon. It seems to be a little 
 livelier to-day than common," Armitage replied 
 soberly. 
 
 Rob had darted out of the door at the sound of 
 Hercules' angry cry, and was just in time to see the 
 sheriff turning a somersault over the corral fence, 
 which offered the only visible fortifications. 
 
 "Here, Hercules! Lie down, boy. What would 
 you like, sir? " 
 
 "I don't want nothing o' you. What I want is 
 the fine gentleman who 's in that cabin." 
 
 The sheriff came out from behind his barricade, 
 and his deputies joined him one by one. 
 
 Armitage and the senator appeared in the door 
 of the dwelling, looking very much surprised and 
 somewhat annoyed, while Jim Jones, still wearing 
 his high-colored decorations, appeared behind them, 
 wildly gesticulating. 
 
 "Did you wish to see me, Mr. Sheriff, or are 
 you looking for my friend Armitage?" indicating 
 the painter, on whose shoulder his hand was resting, 
 asked Harmon, with dignity, and a chill look 
 which sent the sheriff's hopes of the Spanish mis 
 sion down into his boots.
 
 318 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 The sheriff, if somewhat lacking in judgment, 
 was a man of perception. The presence of no less 
 a person than Senator Harmon in Mr. Paul's house, 
 and on terms of apparent intimacy with its master, 
 was proof conclusive that something was wrong in 
 the information on which he had been acting. It 
 was an embarrassing moment for him, but he rose 
 to the occasion. 
 
 "I beg pardon, senator. It's the man behind 
 you I 'm after. Fact is, we were out together " 
 
 "A-hunting! " put in Jim Jones eagerly. 
 
 "Yes, on a little hunting expedition. We got 
 separated. That 's all there is to it. Land sakes, 
 Jim! What 's happened to you? " 
 
 There was a general uproar as the full glory of 
 Jim Jones's adornment became visible. 
 
 "He 's merely been dabbling in art a little. A 
 dangerous thing for amateurs. Good-day, gentle 
 men ! " and the senator turned on his heel. 
 
 The minor discovery that Mr. Paul and Armitage 
 were one and the same person did not endear that 
 gentleman to the constabulary force, or increase the 
 sheriff's liking for him. 
 
 "Serve him right if I'd jugged him then and 
 there! What business 's he got coming up here 
 fooling round with his aliases? " demanded the 
 sheriff of his force. 
 
 The posse lingered in the hills until after sunset, 
 and under cover of darkness went down the canon, 
 wisely separating when they reached the highway, 
 where the presence of so large a body of armed 
 men might have given rise to awkward inquiries.
 
 CHAPTER XLI 
 
 THE BLACK CURTAIN FALLS 
 
 ARMITAGE and his friends strolled down the road, 
 for the senator had declared his intention of walk 
 ing back to the village and would not be dissuaded 
 from it. He sauntered along in advance with Amy 
 Judith, finding a rare charm in the girl's sweet 
 womanly ways and piquant speech. As he com 
 pared her fresh, unspoiled nature with the weary, 
 world-worn air and frequently tarnished characters 
 of great singers whom he had met, he could not help 
 wondering whether, after all, her calamity had not 
 been a blessing in disguise, and if the world could 
 not better spare a great singer from its lists rather 
 than be made the poorer by the loss of a single true 
 and happy woman, contented within the wholesome 
 limits of her own home life. 
 
 Armitage was following after, with Rob. The 
 strain and confinement of the past weeks had told 
 strangely upon him, for Rob observed that he moved 
 wearily and heavily, often stumbling, and he seemed 
 in a depressed mood, paying little heed to the boy's 
 cheerful remarks, until he relapsed into silence. 
 
 They reached the clearing under the oaks beneath 
 the cottage, stopping there for a few parting words.
 
 320 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "I shall always retain an exceedingly pleasant 
 memory of this day," said Harmon. "When I get 
 back to the turmoil and worries of office, and am 
 wading through the slush and sleet of winter in the 
 capital, I am going to often think of the peace and 
 beauty of this little nook in the hills. Good-by, 
 Miss Judith, and may life bring you compensation 
 so rich that you will never grieve over the jewel 
 you have lost. Good-by, Rob. Take good care 
 of your sister. As you won't accept my invitation, 
 Armitage, I suppose I must take leave of you as 
 well." 
 
 "Good-by," said Armitage. 
 
 He seemed in a peculiarly absent-minded mood, 
 for he extended his hand to Rob, who stood a few 
 paces away to his right, while the senator was stand 
 ing at his left. 
 
 Harmon saw the odd blunder, and came hastily 
 forward to relieve the awkwardness of the error. 
 
 "I won't go any farther with you, Harmon. I 
 must go back and rest my eyes. But do you think 
 you can find your way? It 's such a black night, 
 and the road is new to you." 
 
 The sun was hanging, a great crimson ball, over 
 the western sea. A soft mist obscured the hori 
 zon, but a tremulous radiance brightened all the 
 landscape. 
 
 A chill crept over those who listened, fear gath 
 ering in their hearts as they read confirmation in 
 each other's eyes. 
 
 Their voicelessness was more impressive than any
 
 THE BLACK CURTAIN FALLS 321 
 
 speech. Armitage reeled as if he had received a 
 blow, then stood up straight and tall, the brightness 
 of the setting sun upon his pallid face. 
 
 "My God! The sun will never rise again for 
 me. The black curtain has fallen forever! "
 
 CHAPTER XLII 
 
 THE HISTORY OF THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "DON'T be disheartened, Armitage!" said Har 
 mon, clasping the latter's hand, while his trembling 
 voice showed how deeply he was moved. "You 
 have only overtaxed your eyes again. I did n't 
 know I ought not to have let you undertake the 
 commission till your cure was complete. But when 
 you wrote me you were rea^y to begin work again, 
 I supposed you were the best judge." 
 
 A great horror took possession of Rob, who had 
 been looking on and listening, slowly comprehend 
 ing the nature of the awful tragedy that had t oc- 
 curred, and his own agency in it. 
 
 " Oh, he is blind ! He is blind ! He has given 
 his eyesight to save me ! " 
 
 The senator thought the catastrophe had turned 
 the boy's brain, and tried to soothe and hush him 
 with a hopeful, sympathetic speech, but Rob raved 
 on like one distracted : 
 
 "You don't understand, Mr. Harmon. It is all 
 my fault. He painted that picture because I had 
 to have a certain sum of money by spring, and 
 everything else we depended on had failed. Oh, 
 Mr. Armitage, if it would bring back your sight 
 to have my own eyes pierced with red-hot irons, 
 I 'd have it done this minute "
 
 THE HISTORY OF THE BLACK CURTAIN 323 
 
 "Don't, Bob!" 
 
 Armitage groped for the boy's hand, hardened 
 with honest labor and bearing a hero's scars, and 
 held it close with a warm, loyal pressure. 
 
 "It might have happened anyhow, Rob. It is 
 only an old weakness come back. Some day it 
 was inevitable. I narrowly escaped it three years 
 ago in San Francisco. My boy, don't grieve so! 
 What is friendship, if a man may not risk his all 
 for it? I count it well invested, Rob. Amy, have 
 you gone? Where are you? I want you, Amy." 
 
 They led him back to his cabin, and all that night 
 Amy Judith sat beside him, woeful and wordless, 
 laying cooling lotions on the hot, closed eyelids. 
 Sometimes he slept, but more often he lay with 
 knitted brows, fighting a stern battle of resignation. 
 When morning came and the brilliancy of dawn 
 flooded all the earth with rejoicing light, it was not 
 for him. 
 
 Once he said : 
 
 " Amy, you know now why I dared not face the 
 fire." 
 
 "And I would have called you a coward!" she 
 murmured, with a bursting heart, laying her cheek 
 against his, while he seized her hand and held it 
 close to his throbbing heart; but no other caress 
 passed between them, and the deep affection which 
 in the one heart so hungered for a return, and in 
 the other would have found its greatest joy in lav 
 ishing its boundless wealth upon the stricken man, 
 remained voiceless and unconfessed. 
 
 The next day a distinguished oculist came from
 
 324 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 the neighboring southern city, sent by Harmon, 
 who would not be denied this effort on his friend's 
 behalf. The specialist made a thorough examina 
 tion and rendered a frank verdict. When Kob 
 heard this sentence he left the house, half mad with 
 grief and remorse, but Armitage made no comment, 
 and gave no sign either of rebellion or protest. 
 
 Days passed drearily by, and Armitage, whose 
 lips no word of revolt had once passed, came slowly 
 to a sense of the inevitable. 
 
 "You must go back to your little home to-mor 
 row. I cannot impose upon you in this way any 
 longer," he announced one night, as he sat by an 
 open window listening dreamily to the distant surf 
 breaking against the cliffs that lined the seashore. 
 
 "Mr. Armitage, are you unwilling we should 
 have this little chance to atone?" cried Rob, in 
 dismay. 
 
 "Rob, you take this too much to heart. Sooner 
 or later it was bound to come. I have known it 
 for years. I never spared myself in my busy days. 
 I was a spendthrift then." 
 
 "But if you had n't painted that picture " 
 
 The boy could get no further. The magnitude 
 of Armitage 's sacrifice stupefied him. The canceled 
 note had been returned by Norcross. He was free 
 from any danger of prosecution, his name had been 
 saved, life was again before him to shape according 
 to his will but at what a cost ! 
 
 " It makes it very pleasant to have you here, 
 too pleasant!" Armitage went on, after a slight 
 pause. "But I must get back to my bachelor life,
 
 THE HISTORY OF THE BLACK CURTAIN 325 
 
 test my ability to wait upon myself, accustom myself 
 to its limitations. Never fear but that I shall tax 
 you enough! " he added, with a dreary smile. 
 
 "As if it could be a tax!" Rob indignantly 
 repudiated the suggestion. 
 
 The lad went to the door and stood there looking 
 tip into the sky, wondering that the stars could 
 bear to look down upon a world where a good and 
 brave man, devoting himself to a noble and unself 
 ish deed, could be so grievously punished. 
 
 "I've been thinking that I ought to explain to 
 you the history of the black curtain, Miss Amy," 
 Armitage went on thoughtfully. "There 's really 
 very little to the story, or would n't have been if the 
 curtain hadn't gone on making history for itself up 
 here. It was one of the studio fixtures of a fellow 
 named Towne, a moody, morose sort of man, with 
 any amount of talent, but with a positive genius 
 for being misunderstood. He was a genuine pessi 
 mist, and when the world refused to recognize his 
 worth, he bought this black stuff the boys used 
 to declare, at an undertaker's and stretched it 
 across his studio wall to hide his paintings from the 
 sight of the great public, which as a matter of fact 
 never came near the place. Well, matters went 
 badly with him, and one day they found him hang 
 ing behind the curtain, stark and stiff, poor fellow! 
 
 "The curtain was offered for sale with the rest 
 of his studio effects. There was really nothing of 
 much value; but a lot of us attended the auction 
 and stood in on the sale for the sake of his destitute 
 old mother. None of the boys wanted the curtain.
 
 326 . THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 They had a sort of notion that Towne's spirit 
 haunted it. I bought it simply because nobody else 
 would have it, and when I had to give up my pro 
 fession and come down here, the fancy seized me 
 to bring it along and string it before my old easel 
 and the other belongings of my workshop. It was 
 a foolish notion. I 've come to feel myself that a 
 sort of fatality attached to the drapery, that it 
 symbolized the dark doom which has so long over 
 hung me." 
 
 "Well, you '11 never see it again," remarked Rob, 
 with mild satisfaction. 
 
 "No, I shall never see it again," replied the 
 blind man sadly. 
 
 Rob flushed with distress over his unthinking 
 speech. 
 
 "I mean," he said hastily, "that when I went to 
 pack up the painting to send to Senator Harmon, 
 as you directed me to, I needed something soft and 
 thick to wrap about the frame and canvas to pro 
 tect them from injury. There was nothing else 
 handy, and I tore down the curtain. None of us 
 will ever see it again, for the reason that by this 
 time it 's a thousand or so miles from here." 
 
 The following day Armitage was left alone in his 
 little canon home, overruling every objection that 
 could be raised. 
 
 "I am not half as helpless as you imagine me," 
 he said to Amy cheerfully. "You see I have been 
 anticipating this for years. I never knew at what 
 moment it might descend upon me, and I have 
 taught myself to go about with closed eyes, and
 
 THE HISTORY OF THE BLACK CURTAIN 327 
 
 to recognize and discriminate between things by 
 touch. There is scarcely an article in my cabin 
 here that I couldn't put my hand on in the da<rk. 
 I have often found my way about my garden and 
 along the path to my neighbor's garden with closed 
 eyes. Now I must put this training to use, for 
 I shall probably live alone all the rest of my life." 
 
 "But, Mr. Armitage, to come down to a very 
 practical little question, you cannot undertake to 
 cook for yourself." 
 
 "As to that, I have under consideration an offer 
 made by one of the wood-cutters who worked here 
 at the time of the fire. He wanted to continue to 
 cut wood on shares in the east gulch, and proposed 
 to put up a brush shanty and bring his wife up 
 here to live. She will prepare my meals and 
 render any little service I may require. Of course 
 it 's only a makeshift, but it may do for a while, 
 until I decide what I shall do in the future." 
 
 Amy Judith mustered courage to broach a sub 
 ject that had been in her mind for days. 
 
 "Mr. Armitage," she said, "why don't you have 
 her come? " 
 
 He turned to her, surprised and questioning. 
 
 "You know you showed me her portrait one 
 day," Amy Judith went on bravely. "Looking 
 upon her face, I can realize what she must be to 
 you. You need her now. You ought to send for 
 her." 
 
 "Oh, that would never do; never in this world! 
 I could not ask so much of her." 
 
 Amy said no more, but a generous purpose was
 
 328 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 gradually taking shape in her mind, only waiting 
 opportunity to be put into execution. 
 
 The sweet, tranquil face of the portrait was ever 
 present before her mental vision. She felt it to be 
 her mission, in these dark days of misfortune, to 
 reunite these strangely separated lives. Obstacles 
 were in her way, but some day she would be able 
 to overcome them. She did not know the name 
 or address of the lady. She was not quite certain 
 whether she were Mr. Armitage's wife or sweet 
 heart, although the presumption was that they were 
 married, as in the days of his prosperity there 
 could have been no possible reason for procrastina 
 tion or delay. Moreover, men were not wont to 
 speak of their fiancees with the perfect candor 
 Armitage had exhibited in alluding to this lady. 
 
 Meantime the two, brother and sister, kept a 
 closer espionage over the blind man than they would 
 have had him know, and remembered him with 
 every little attention in their power.
 
 CHAPTER XLIII 
 
 CROSS PURPOSES 
 
 ONE day Armitage presented himself at the 
 cottage door. 
 
 "Miss Amy, will you be kind enough to supply 
 me with writing materials? There is a letter I 
 must send." 
 
 The girl's quick intuition at once divined the 
 character of this communication. 
 
 "Mr. Armitage, are you going to tell her? " 
 
 "Not yet. Oh, not yet. But I must write." 
 
 Her heart ached for him, as she read back of his 
 words a painful shrinking from confiding the full 
 measure of his misfortune to the woman he loved. 
 
 She gave him a seat at her little writing-desk, 
 and placing paper and pencil before him, stood at 
 a little distance and saw him form the first awkward 
 words, guiding his hand by means of a book laid 
 across the paper above the line he essayed to follow. 
 Not for the world would she have deciphered the 
 words in which he disguised the awful tragedy that 
 had overtaken him, or, confessing it at length with 
 out reserve, resigned his life's dearest hopes. 
 
 For a while she waited, and thus it came that 
 she was a witness of the agonized struggle which 
 ensued. She saw him stop and bow his head
 
 330 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 upon the desk-lid, his hands clenched, his whole 
 attitude one of profound despair. When she could 
 bear the sight no longer, she noiselessly left the 
 room. 
 
 Oh, cruel world, that ranked each man and wo 
 man by the little measure of worldly success achieved 
 in selfish greed, and counted as nothing the unseen 
 sacrifices that resulted in disaster and loss ! Cruel 
 civilization, which bound its coronets upon unde 
 serving brows, and left its grandest heroes to tread 
 the by-paths of poverty and despair, and to sleep, 
 at length, in unmarked and forgotten graves ! 
 
 And she, the beautiful, gifted woman, whom he 
 so worshiped, and in whom his life was so bound 
 up, that to lose her meant more than the bitterness 
 of death, what manner of woman was she, who 
 could be only a fair-weather friend, and from whom 
 he would fain conceal the dire misfortune that had 
 befallen him? 
 
 More generous thoughts forced themselves upon 
 the girl. The face was always before her. Mr. 
 Armitage was mistaken. Men rarely understood 
 a woman's heart, or were capable of measuring its 
 depths of devotion, of loyalty and sympathy. She 
 recalled the high nobility of the countenance, the 
 exquisite tenderness of brow and eyes and lips. 
 Beneath the pride and gayety and possible crust of 
 worldly ambition, there existed a royal capacity for 
 self-sacrifice. Gracious, elegant woman and society 
 queen that she divined the original of the portrait 
 to be, who could tell but that she might find a hap 
 piness better and sweeter than any social triumph
 
 CROSS PURPOSES 331 
 
 in ministering to the wants of the stricken man, 
 and in bringing consolation to his sore heart? 
 
 An hour later Armitage placed the letter in her 
 hand. 
 
 "Will you address it? I'm afraid to trust my 
 wavering hand on an envelope." 
 
 He dictated the address: "Mrs. Paul Armitage, 
 No. St., Boston, Mass." 
 
 The girl wrote the superscription clearly and 
 neatly, a definite plan forming in her mind. Fate 
 had at last placed opportunity in her hands, and 
 she meant to avail herself of it. She did not seal 
 the envelope when she had finished, but laid it on 
 the little cabinet where they were accustomed to 
 place their mail, awaiting Kob's next trip to the 
 village. 
 
 That night another inclosure was slipped within 
 this envelope; it was simple and direct, and read 
 as follows : 
 
 DEAK MRS. ARMITAGE, I think it is only right 
 you should know of the terrible calamity that has 
 come upon Mr. Armitage, and of which I am sure 
 he is trying to spare you all knowledge. He is blind. 
 His eyesight was offered up in noble self-sacrifice 
 for a friend. Because the man he saved is near and 
 dear to me, it seems to me proper that I should 
 send you this intelligence. 
 
 Sadder even than his helplessness is the cloud of 
 sorrow and despondence in which he seems to be per 
 petually wrapped. I know he is constantly think 
 ing of you and longing for your presence, for he
 
 332 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 often takes your portrait, which he cannot see, in 
 his hands, and when he sits alone, he is always fin 
 gering the little charm on his watch-chain which 
 holds your likeness. 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 
 AMY JUDITH.
 
 CHAPTER XLIV 
 
 BOHEMIANS TO THE RESCUE 
 
 WHEN the news of Armitage's affliction traveled 
 up to San Francisco, it aroused in his old comrades 
 that quick and unreckoning sympathy characteristic 
 of the true Bohemian. 
 
 " Blind blind and penniless ! Think of it, 
 boys ! Harmon says he has next to nothing in the 
 world. All the money he paid him for the paint 
 ing he ruined his eyes over went to pay off some 
 old debt. Blind and alone; living up a mountain 
 canon! .It 's an awful situation, boys! We 've got 
 to do something for him, and right away." 
 
 Bohemia is by instinct gregarious. She cannot 
 understand the beauties of solitude. Separation 
 from the bustle and action of the city, the extrava 
 gance and mirth of club-life, the gay companion 
 ship of kindred souls, means to her something only 
 a shade less gruesome than the awful solitude of 
 the grave. 
 
 " We must have him down here at once, boys ! 
 that 's sure ! " cried Jack Pryor, who had once been 
 a tenant by courtesy of Armitage's studio, when 
 turned out of his own by reason of a disagreement 
 with a presumptuous and unreasonable landlord, 
 who wanted his rent, twelve months overdue.
 
 334 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "But how can we manage it? We can't get him 
 here unless he has something to live upon. Armi- 
 tage would cut his throat before he 'd eat the bread 
 of charity." 
 
 " How would it do to try to railroad a bill through 
 Congress granting him an extra allowance for the 
 painting, on account of what it has cost him?" 
 
 "Aw, Congress! Lots of sympathy for art in 
 Congress, isn't there? We 'd stand a better chance 
 of getting a group of gilded sea-lions placed on the 
 dome of the national Capitol than to ask Congress 
 for an appropriation for such a purpose. I happen 
 to know that Harmon rolled logs with a New Eng 
 land member to get that commission for Armitage, 
 voted an allowance for a fog-horn to be run by 
 the distinguished member's nephew, or something 
 of the kind, else he 'd never have secured the job 
 for Armitage! " shamefully asserted another of the 
 party, a foreigner, who had not a proper respect for 
 American institutions. 
 
 "And our government, which pensions off its 
 schoolma'ams and soldiers, one class at least being 
 provided all their lives with ample salaries to save 
 a competency from during their years of usefulness, 
 has nothing to award the men who bring the highest 
 distinction on the nation and get the least for it," 
 bitterly remarked an old painter, who had for years 
 battled to keep the wolf from his door and yet re 
 main true to the highest ideals of his profession, 
 and who saw old age and destitution approaching. 
 
 "Oh, that's as you look at it," smartly replied 
 young Potboiler. " I don't seem to have any trou 
 ble to get along."
 
 BOHEMIANS TO THE RESCUE 335 
 
 "Armitage has a most picturesque head. He'd 
 be a fine subject for an ideal study of the blind Saul. 
 I could make no end of use of him," said a young 
 portrait painter, Mortimer by name. 
 
 "Armitage a model! You need to have a hole 
 punched in your head, Mortimer, to let some sense 
 in," blandly remarked another. 
 
 "Oh, let up, boys!" put in Pryor. "As Armi 
 tage won't accept help, there 's no use talking about 
 an appeal to the government, or getting up a benefit 
 sale, or anything of that sort. We 've got to devise 
 some plan we can work without any affront to his 
 feelings or his dignity." 
 
 "If it were anything but his eyes!" groaned 
 Rathburn, a portrait painter of distinction, who had 
 been abroad with Armitage, and who had been 
 deeply affected by the tidings of his old friend's 
 calamity. "If he'd only been crippled for life, or 
 his hands disabled, or his health failed, he could 
 lie on a sofa and talk and give us ideas, and be no 
 end of help to everybody ! Armitage loves his art, 
 and he 's scintillating with brilliant thoughts and 
 suggestions. Ruskin was n't a circumstance to him. 
 But blind!" 
 
 Pryor's face had brightened during this speech. 
 He tossed his cigar into a basket, where it began to 
 smoulder in a little nest of burnt paper, promising 
 to kindle a fine blaze when the men should have 
 gone and the studio be deserted. 
 
 "Boys, I have an idea! " 
 
 "Oh, oh, Pryor's captured an idea! Put your 
 finger on it, Pryor!" "An epoch in Jack's life,
 
 336 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 boys! " were some of the sarcastic sallies that 
 greeted this announcement. One of the young men 
 slyly blew a police-whistle out of the window, 
 quickly retreating before the gaze of people on the 
 street below could travel up to the sixth story, in 
 which Rathburn's sky parlor was situated. 
 
 "That policeman 's never on his beat when he 's 
 needed. If he 'd been in his proper place, I 'd have 
 had him come up and arrest it!" he explained to 
 the reckless crowd. 
 
 Pryor waited' with perfect unconcern until the 
 storm of badinage subsided. Then he unfolded his 
 idea, which was hailed with approval by the caucus. 
 
 A few days later, two young men clad in well- 
 worn corduroys, and looking like a pair of disrepu 
 table fishermen on a bootless expedition, accosted 
 Amy Judith as she stood beneath the tree which 
 sheltered her mountain home. 
 
 "Beg pardon," said one of the young men affa 
 bly, doffing his cap, and sending a curious glance 
 aloft, "would you be so kind as to direct us to Mr. 
 Armitage's place? " 
 
 Miss Judith gave him the desired information. 
 
 " Stunning little woman ! " remarked Mortimer. 
 "Wonder if I could get a sketch of her through the 
 trees! And did you see that little summer-house 
 up in the tree ? " 
 
 "Oh, come along! Do leave shop at home for 
 once," angrily muttered Pryor, hurrying him along 
 their way. 
 
 Amy Judith felt when she saw these visitors that 
 their advent boded change for Paul Armitage, and
 
 BOHEMIANS TO THE RESCUE 337 
 
 she followed them wistfully with her eyes, until 
 they were lost to sight around a bend of the path. 
 
 Some doubts had been felt by Armitage's old 
 comrades as to the advisability of sending Mortimer 
 along on this commission, on account of his pro 
 verbial lack of tact. It was current rumor that he 
 had once forfeited a thousand -dollar commission 
 for painting the daughter of one of the bonanza 
 kings, through garnishing the portrait, with deplor 
 able fidelity to nature, with a large wart which 
 formed a questionable embellishment to the young 
 lady's nose. Could his friends have witnessed the 
 interview which followed, they would have realized 
 that their misgivings were not ill founded. 
 
 The visitors found Armitage standing in his 
 corral, feeding a bit of green clover to his mare, the 
 one living companion he possessed of whose affection 
 he had constant and unquestionable demonstration. 
 The animal whinnied softly as her master turned 
 away, detecting the sound of footfalls and waiting 
 for his visitors to announce themselves. 
 
 Unchanged in every respect save that fixed ex 
 pression of his eyes which seemed ever waiting for 
 some divine touch to unseal their inner chambers, 
 his pathetic attitude of listening and waiting was 
 too much for Mortimer, who blubbered like a school 
 boy, struggling valiantly to keep any sound of his 
 grief from reaching the blind man's sensitive ears. 
 
 Pry or 's heart was no less moved, but he went 
 cheerily forward. 
 
 "Armitage, I 'm glad to find you! " 
 
 "Is it Jack Pryor? Well, this is a pleasure, 
 Jack. Who 's with you ? "
 
 338 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 Mortimer contrived to come forward and take 
 Armitage's hand, murmuring a few words of con 
 ventional greeting. 
 
 "Out on a sketching-trip, boys?" 
 
 "Well, not exactly. Of course we make a scrawl 
 now and then. But we 're up here to see you." 
 
 "Lovely pictures you have in these hills, Mr. 
 Armitage," said Mortimer, rallying his spirits and 
 speaking jauntily. "Just look at that oak over there 
 by the stream now! Where the sun strikes it, it 
 throws real purple shadows on the grass, Van 
 Antwerp and the other fellows to the contrary, eh? 
 Don't you agree with me? " 
 
 Pryor nudged Mortimer sharply. He could have 
 kicked him with a better grace. 
 
 "Take us some place where we can sit down, 
 Armitage. We have a proposition to make to 
 you," said Pryor, noting that the blind man was 
 evidently accustomed to find his way about alone, 
 and rightly judging that he would take pride in 
 demonstrating his independence of movement. 
 
 Armitage led the way to the cabin, chatting easily 
 and pleasantly of old friends and old associations, 
 and thirstily drinking down the studio gossip with 
 which the two men regaled him on the way. He 
 seated his visitors in his large living-room. Morti 
 mer's eyes, wandering down the gay perspective to 
 the forlorn space at the room's extremity, no longer 
 concealed by the black drapery, where the unused 
 easel stood, relapsed into tears. 
 
 "Now, Armitage," began Pryor, casting a with 
 ering look upon his fellow artist, "it 's just this
 
 BOHEMIANS TO THE RESCUE 339 
 
 way. We need you up in San Francisco. You 
 know you always were a sort of balance-wheel and 
 corrective to us all, keeping us true to the best 
 principles of art, or at least preventing our going 
 far astray. Since you 've been away, we 're all at 
 sixes and sevens. The fellows are running to all 
 sorts of fads. Some of their work would make you 
 sick." 
 
 Pryor had carefully avoided all reference to the 
 misfortune which had descended upon his old friend, 
 and which might render this proposal welcome to 
 him. But in avoiding Scylla, he had unwittingly 
 steered against Charybdis. 
 
 Mortimer tipped him a vengeful nod, as one who 
 realized and rejoiced in another's misstep. 
 
 "Such things are not serious," remarked Armi- 
 tage calmly. "To go astray and come back to the 
 fold is often an essential process of growth." 
 
 "But to keep in the straight path and never go 
 astray takes a man ahead faster and surer," as 
 serted Jack tranquilly. "Fact is, we 've been talk 
 ing it over, some of us fellows, and we 've come to 
 the conclusion we want you as a sort of shepherd. 
 You you haven't any engagement or plan in 
 prospect that would prevent your coming to us, 
 have you? " 
 
 "I have a sort of plan. I could scarcely dignify 
 it by the title of ' engagement. ' It is n't matured 
 yet. But go ahead and let me hear what you have 
 to say. In what capacity do you want me to serve 
 as shepherd, Jack? To reach out a pole and crook, 
 catch the lambs that are straying, and hustle them
 
 340 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 back to the fold ? Or merely to herd the old sheep, 
 keep them together, fat and hearty, and see that 
 they do not graze in strange pastures or eat what 
 isn't good for them? Explain yourself fully, 
 Jack!" 
 
 "Well, I suppose that's about it," said Pryor, 
 wishing to heaven that he had never been betrayed 
 into that awkward metaphor of the lambs and the 
 shepherd, and trying with all his might to escape 
 from it. "In other words, if you 'd just come back 
 and accept quarters among us, and give us your 
 ideas on art, either in the form of private talks or 
 open lectures, there needn't be anything formal 
 about them, we 'd be no end obliged. You know 
 men are living by that very sort of thing, and 
 reaping distinction, in Munich and Vienna and 
 Paris, and all the art centres abroad." 
 
 "Blind men?" 
 
 "Now, Armitage, the question of sight doesn't 
 enter into the matter at all. You have seen, and 
 you have painted, and you 've got all the technique 
 at your fingers' end, for that matter. What we 
 want is the benefit of your experience and your 
 ideas." 
 
 "In other words, if a question of color or of 
 treatment or of motive arises ; if a new art school 
 comes to town or a new fad develops, or some poor 
 fellow is trying to free himself from a mannerism 
 or find his true leading, you want me to keep on 
 promulgating the high and lofty abstract principles 
 of art. When the poor devils are dying for want 
 of water, I 'm to offer them a drop of oil."
 
 BOHEMIANS TO THE RESCUE 341 
 
 "You don't look at it the right way, Arraitage." 
 
 "I'm afraid it is you who won't look at it the 
 right way, Pryor. I appreciate the kindness that 
 prompts this offer, but I believe I prefer brooms." 
 
 "What 's that? " asked Mortimer. 
 
 "Brooms. Haven't you heard of that institution 
 where men who have lost their sight make them 
 selves useful by manufacturing hand-made brooms? 
 I believe the establishment is supposed to draw 
 state aid, but it 's really self-supporting through 
 this admirable industry of its inmates, who thus 
 retain their self-respect. Very good brooms they 
 make, I 'm told. I 've been practicing. As a pre 
 liminary, I 've dissected two old brooms." 
 
 "But, Mr. Armitage, we were going to pay you 
 a salary, a good round salary ! Every one of us 
 was going to chip in," put in Mortimer. Jack 
 Pryor wished he had murdered him before starting 
 on this journey, as he had been tempted to do in 
 San Francisco. 
 
 "Thank you, Mortimer. I think making brooms 
 would be more respectable." 
 
 "Armitage, don't be hasty in deciding. It's 
 going to be an awful disappointment to us. Why 
 won't you try it for a month, say? I think you 
 could demonstrate to yourself that the position was 
 no mere sinecure, but one of genuine usefulness," 
 urged Jack, in desperation. 
 
 "Thank you, Jack. I '11 think it over. It strikes 
 me that it would be a good test case to take the 
 scheme direct to the Blind Men's Industrial Home, 
 and make it the feature of some public entertain-
 
 342 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 ment. I 'm obliged to you for the suggestion. It 
 may be that the populace would rise in force to hear 
 a blind man instruct them on art. And if there 
 should be a hearty, genuine outpouring at so much 
 a head, I promise you I '11 take to the platform at 
 once. It 's certainly a unique idea ! " 
 
 " I 'd rather be shot than go back and tell them 
 you won't come," said Pry or dejectedly. 
 
 He might have added, with truth, that Mortimer 
 would certainly come to his death at the hands of 
 a mob of infuriated Bohemians, should they be en 
 lightened as to the manner in which he had aided 
 their mutual errand.
 
 CHAPTER XLV 
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE PORTRAIT 
 
 AMY JUDITH had not expected any answer to the 
 pitiful little note she had slipped into Mr. Armi- 
 tage's letter to the unknown woman who exerted 
 so strong an influence over his life, but a couple of 
 weeks later a letter came to her, addressed in deli 
 cate feminine penmanship. It was very brief, and 
 read : 
 
 DEAR Miss JUDITH, I shall take Tuesday's 
 train for the coast, reaching the Vernal Hills on 
 Sunday the inst. 
 
 When I see you, I shall try to express the grati 
 tude I feel for your confidence that I would rather 
 be acquainted with the full measure of Paul's mis 
 fortune, than to be left in ignorance of it. Oh, 
 these men ! Paul is one of the best and truest, but 
 how little they understand our women's hearts! 
 Your friend, 
 
 MARY ARMITAGE. 
 
 All the remainder of that week Amy Judith went 
 about with a conscience heavy burdened, oddly 
 silent and reticent when she met Armitage, and 
 escaping from his society on every possible excuse.
 
 344 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 In spite of these chill and varying moods, she 
 surprised him by inviting him to dinner on the fol 
 lowing Sunday. 
 
 Annitage accepted the invitation with alacrity. 
 The wood-chopper's wife had not proved a success as 
 a caterer, and his meals were neither well cooked 
 nor agreeably served. Amy, however, repented the 
 invitation as soon as she had framed it, as she be 
 thought herself of the embarrassments that might 
 arise, and reflected that it would have been far 
 more considerate to have permitted these two, so 
 long apart, to enjoy their reunion, with all its pos 
 sible explanations and mutual confessions, in ther 
 seclusion of their canon home. 
 
 On the appointed day, the fateful Sabbath, Armi- 
 tage came to the cottage early, so early that Amy 
 was obliged to excuse herself to give Rob directions 
 to drive at once to the station to meet the after 
 noon train. 
 
 "I 'm expecting a friend a lady, Rob." 
 
 "And never told me! " The boy's tone was 
 aggrieved. "Why did you make a secret of it, 
 Amy?" 
 
 "Rob, it is Mrs. Armitage." 
 
 "Mrs. Armitage! " Rob gave a long whistle. 
 
 "Yes. Please don't ask a word. Only be sure 
 to get there in time, and be very nice to her." 
 
 Miss Judith was so absent-minded that afternoon, 
 and made such random replies to her visitor, that 
 he began to feel very uncomfortable. She had de 
 cided that before the traveler arrived she must have 
 a little talk with Armitage, and tell him what she
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE PORTRAIT 345 
 
 had done, but she heard the train whistle and pass 
 the station before she could muster courage for it. 
 
 "Mr. Armitage," she said hastily, breaking in 
 upon a remark of his concerning the weather. 
 
 "Yes, Miss Amy?" 
 
 He lifted his head with a startled expression, 
 impressed by her serious tone. 
 
 "I cannot help seeing how lonely you are, and I 
 have decided that you must have her come." 
 
 "I wouldn't suggest such a thing to her for the 
 world," interposed Armitage positively. 
 
 "Are you afraid she wouldn't be contented?" 
 
 "That is n't the question. You don't understand. 
 She has always lived well, not exactly in affluence, 
 but she has been used to every comfort and atten 
 tion. She has never known privation of any kind. 
 She would probably come if I asked her. She 
 might not repine. It is I who would be miserable 
 over her discomforts. How could I bear to know 
 she was rasped by all manner of little discomforts, 
 burdened with cares I was powerless to lift, secretly 
 pining for her old home, her accustomed surround 
 ings and associates? " 
 
 "And you think a woman who truly loves a man 
 could ever reckon the trifles you speak of?" 
 
 "It is the man whose duty it is to reckon, to be 
 foresighted." 
 
 "Mr. Armitage, you cannot change matters now. 
 I wrote her myself. She is coming. She has come 
 on this very train. Rob has gone to meet her. I 
 can hear the wheels now." 
 
 "Impossible!" he cried, but she could see the
 
 346 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 look of boyish pleasure that leaped into his face, 
 brightening all his features, a look that not all her 
 attention or devotion had ever called forth. 
 
 "And one word more, Mr. Armitage. You made 
 this great sacrifice for us for Rob and me," said 
 Amy Judith humbly. "There is just one thing 
 for us to do. We will go away and resign all 
 claim to the land, leave it all to you and your wife." 
 
 "My wife!" exclaimed Paul Armitage, and he 
 sprang from his chair and took a step forward in 
 the darkness, groping in the direction of her vanish 
 ing footsteps. But he heard the clatter of horse's 
 hoofs, the rattle of wheels, Rob's gay young voice, 
 and another, whose dear accents he had not heard 
 for many weary years. 
 
 Amy Judith had intended to go calmly forward 
 and welcome the new-comer with a dignity befitting 
 her part of hostess. She had even a carefully 
 prepared little speech with which she had meant 
 to greet her; but now, as she saw Rob handing 
 down a slender veiled figure, smitten with a sudden 
 sense of anguish and desolation, she turned and fled 
 up the mountain side, anywhere, anywhere, out of 
 sight and sound of that reunion which she suddenly 
 discovered it was beyond her strength to witness.
 
 CHAPTER XLVI 
 "THE DEAREST WOMAN IN THE WORLD" 
 
 THE lady who descended from the cart was tall 
 and slender, and wore her dusty traveling-garments 
 with a stately grace. She hastened to where the 
 tall man waited, incredulous expectation in his face. 
 
 "Oh, Paul, Paul!" 
 
 With sobs and inarticulate murmurs of endear 
 ment she hung upon him, pressing kisses upon the 
 sightless eyes, whispering tender reproaches in his 
 ears, pouring out upon him the pent-up love and 
 tenderness of years. 
 
 "And you would not tell me! " she cried in gen 
 tle reproof. "You would have left me in ignorance 
 of your trouble. Oh, Paul, to think that I might 
 never have known, if it had not been for her, for 
 this dear Amy Judith." 
 
 "It seemed so cruel! " he said brokenly. "Now, 
 when you most needed my support and care, my 
 poor, precious, neglected " 
 
 "Hush, dear ! No hardship that enters a woman's 
 life can be half so bitter as to be refused the right 
 to share the misfortunes and sorrows of one dear 
 to her." 
 
 A silence fell between them, a silence instinct 
 with that perfect trust which casts out doubt, out 
 lasts life, and is more powerful than the grave.
 
 348 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "Where is Amy, Paul?" she at length asked. 
 "I must see her." 
 
 "She was here only a moment ago," replied the 
 young man. "I was speaking with her as you 
 came. I supposed she went to meet you." 
 
 "I certainly had a glimpse of her standing in the 
 door as we drove up," said the lady softly. "It 
 was only a passing look, Paul, but I am sure I 
 never saw so beautiful a little creature in all my 
 life." 
 
 Paul Armitage made no reply to this enthusiastic 
 speech, but he pressed the hand which held his own. 
 
 When Amy Judith fled' like a frightened child 
 from her little home at the approach of her stranger 
 guest, she instinctively avoided all accustomed paths, 
 and turned in the direction of a barren, untraveled 
 hillside. One hand she held pressed closely against 
 her throat, as if to stifle the flood of anguish rising 
 there, and with the other she beat back the thorny 
 boughs which seemed to reach out a thousand prickly 
 arms to mock at her and detain her. 
 
 "Amy! Amy Judith!" 
 
 Rob, who had observed the direction in which 
 she had gone, followed after, and came upon her 
 seated on a stone amid a dreary waste of rock and 
 sagebrush, her face as dull and expressionless as 
 the bleak prospect upon which her eyes were fixed. 
 
 "Amy! They are calling you! " said Rob, com 
 ing to her side. 
 
 The look in her face startled him. 
 
 "Why, Amy, it can't be possible that you dread 
 meeting her. She 's so pleasant and kind I feel as
 
 THE DEAREST WOMAN IN THE WORLD 349 
 
 if I 'd known her all my life. And she 's so anx 
 ious to know you. She talked about you half the 
 way." 
 
 So even Rob had gone over to the enemy. Amy 
 felt as if she had no place left in the world, but 
 she passively rose and set her face homeward, feel 
 ing that of all the hard ordeals of her life, the most 
 crucial was at hand. With feminine inconsistency, 
 she decided that she would rather endure the sorest 
 trial than to welcome to their peaceful retreat this 
 new and alien element, or to submit herself to the 
 inspection of Paul Armitage's wife. 
 
 Clad in some misty gray fabric, her fragile beauty 
 seemed to take on a new and spiritual meaning as 
 she halted on the threshold, shyly viewing the two 
 who awaited her. 
 
 Paul Armitage was holding the lady's hand in 
 his own, but he was leaning forward, intently listen 
 ing to her step, and she could see that, no matter 
 how dear this new-comer, in his heart a deathless 
 affection hungered for her presence. 
 
 The girl's eyes wandered to the woman by his 
 side. She saw the face of the portrait, sweeter and 
 lovelier, though years had passed over it, leaving 
 their snows on the bands of shining dark hair, now 
 silvery white, and the hand that Armitage held was 
 shrunken and wrinkled. 
 
 "Miss Amy," he said, rising as she came slowly 
 to them, "I want you to know the dearest woman 
 in the whole world, my mother! " 
 
 One moment the two women looked into each 
 other's eyes, the girl's questioning and amazed, the
 
 350 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 elder lady's gentle and loving; then Amy Judith, 
 softly sobbing, was gathered in the motherly arms. 
 
 Paul Armitage put out his hand and groped for 
 Amy's fair head, laying it softly there. 
 
 "You are blinder than I, Amy!" he said under 
 his breath, and passed away, leaving the two women 
 together. 
 
 It was the portrait of the mother, taken in early 
 youth and gowned after the fashion of forty years 
 before, strangely reproduced in the fashions of the 
 day, which Amy Judith had seen, and whose like 
 ness had been burned upon her brain, calling forth 
 fantastic -visions in her fever and delirium, the 
 loving mother whom Paul Armitage, with a son's 
 loyalty, had enshrined in his heart, and who had 
 throughout life been his guiding star, holding him 
 aloof from the temptations and allurements that had 
 beset his path.
 
 CHAPTER XLVII 
 AMY JUDITH'S OPPORTUNITY 
 
 To Amy Judith, so long denied a mother's love, 
 there was something inexpressibly sweet in close 
 daily association with this generous, bountiful wo 
 manly nature, which, like a hovering dove, took her 
 under its sheltering wing. 
 
 From the first, the tenderest sympathy existed 
 between the two women so strangely brought to 
 gether, but a time soon came when even this affec 
 tionate regard entailed its measure of pain upon 
 them. 
 
 "When Poverty knocks at the door, Love flies 
 out of the window," is a proverb so trite that it 
 would long ago have been retired in company with 
 other time-worn saws, were it not that we see it 
 so constantly and painfully exemplified in the lives 
 of people around us. 
 
 When life becomes a stern struggle for the means 
 of existence, there is little leisure for sentiment. 
 Groveling care was pressing closely about these 
 dwellers in the Vernal Hills, and a consuming 
 anxiety drove content from their hearths and took 
 up its abode beside them. 
 
 As the year wore on, Amy Judith saw Rob laying 
 down youth and hope under the pressure of more
 
 352 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 than a man's work. She saw Paul Armitage's 
 prediction verified, and his aged mother bowed 
 under her new weight of care, while her delicate 
 hands were growing calloused with unaccustomed 
 drudgery. She saw a deeper shade of melancholy 
 driving the transient cheer from the blind man's 
 face, and felt that by her own ill-considered act she 
 had added to his burden of anxiety. 
 
 One by one little luxuries were banished from 
 their tables ; one by one they dispensed with accus 
 tomed comforts, and all the while debt was accumu 
 lating, a living horror to the two women, in whose 
 daily greetings the recognition of threatening dis 
 tress became a dumb appeal, a piteous entreaty. 
 
 One day Amy Judith received an unexpected 
 visitor in her eyrie. 
 
 "I did not know that you were within a thousand 
 miles of here, Senator Harmon," she said. "Mr. 
 Armitage will be so gratified to see you." 
 
 "I did not come to see Armitage this time," was 
 the quiet reply. 
 
 When Jasper Harmon went on to the national 
 capital, he had by no means passed out of the lives 
 of the dwellers on Escondido Creek. From time 
 to time letters and little remembrances had borne 
 witness that not even the cares of State could banish 
 them from his mind ; but while he had never flagged 
 in his faithful consideration for Armitage, his let 
 ters became more and more of a personal appeal to 
 the woman to whom they were addressed, and the 
 time came when Armitage became conscious of long 
 passages left unread, although he could not see the
 
 AMY JUDITH'S OPPORTUNITY 353 
 
 pretty flush that mantled the girl's cheek as her 
 eyes roved over them. 
 
 Another national campaign was approaching, and 
 again the papers were busily coupling Harmon's 
 name with the high office to which it had long been 
 known he honorably aspired. 
 
 His two memories of Amy Judith, one as a fair 
 girl, thrilling all hearts and prepared to capture a 
 world's adoration with her marvelous gift of song, 
 the other as a lovely, well-poised woman, accepting 
 her homely tasks with a gracious humility, bearing 
 disappointment with a noble patience, had made 
 an impression upon the invincible old bachelor such 
 as no brilliant society belle had ever succeeded in 
 producing. He began his wooing in a way char 
 acteristic of the man. 
 
 "Miss Judith, the world does me the honor to 
 call me a successful man. In reality, my life is 
 blank and' lonely. I 'm afraid I have not much to 
 offer you that you care for, but if you will consent 
 to be my wife, all I have shall be laid at your feet, 
 and it will be the first object of my life to secure 
 your happiness." 
 
 "Marriage cannot be a question of worldly goods," 
 began the girl, with heightened color. 
 
 "I beg your pardon for so much as alluding to 
 them," returned Harmon humbly, but inwardly 
 pleased at the girl's original manner of receiving 
 a proposal which all the other marriageable women 
 of his acquaintance would have accepted with smiles 
 and blushes. Egad! How he would enjoy confus 
 ing some old diplomats of his acquaintance with 
 her simple, direct ways !
 
 354 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "Then, if a lifetime of devotion " 
 
 "Senator Harmon, please stop right there!" in 
 terposed the girl eagerly. " It cannot be. To dis 
 cuss it would only be to spoil our friendship." 
 
 "But I cannot give you up like this, little 
 woman! " cried Harmon, and forthwith surprised 
 himself and frightened the girl with the vehemence 
 of his wooing. He had never been an insincere or 
 hypocritical man ; he had known broad sympathies 
 and loyal friendships, had generously espoused the 
 cause of the weak, and had been a diligent and 
 incorruptible public servant; but hitherto he had 
 dwelt only in the shallows of existence. For the 
 first time he found himself struggling in the deeps, 
 all his suavity and ready wit gone, powerless to 
 express the sentiments that overpowered him. He, 
 who had bent great assemblies to his will, who had 
 influenced legislation by the force of his eloquence 
 and logic, found himself unable to sway the decision 
 of this one small woman. 
 
 "How can I endure to give you up?" he cried 
 passionately; "to see you going on year after year, 
 discharging the most menial drudgery, bowing and 
 aging under your homely cares! If you had pre 
 served your voice, you might have shaped your life 
 as you chose. But to go on climbing this treadmill 
 of care, I cannot bear it ! " 
 
 " It is good to climb, although it be nothing but 
 a treadmill!" said the girl quaintly. "And some 
 day the treadmill may travel to the mountain top, 
 and all things are possible to those who reach the 
 heights after a long and weary climb."
 
 AMY JUDITH'S OPPORTUNITY 355 
 
 Was there a mysterious meaning in her words? 
 A happy smile played about her lips for one brief 
 instant and then faded, leaving only a look of sweet 
 seriousness. 
 
 The senator took up his hat. The battle was 
 over, and he was too good a general not to recognize 
 defeat. 
 
 "Good-by! Give my regards to Armitage, and 
 do not quite forget me, little woman, when you 
 have reached the heights. Remember that I would 
 have liked to smooth your pathway." 
 
 She held out her hand, and he saw the first evi 
 dence of kindly feeling in her moist eyes, but there 
 was no recall in her glance, and he passed down 
 the mountain and out of her life. 
 
 Although Harmon, on this occasion, had left his 
 private car behind and traveled in the modesty of 
 a private citizen, it is not to be supposed that so 
 distinguished a man could make a movement that 
 was not ferreted out by the sharp eyes of the daily 
 press and made the subject of curious speculation. 
 Various rumors were current concerning his visit, 
 one being that the national government had deter 
 mined to establish a mammoth zoological garden in 
 the Vernal Hills, and that Harmon had visited the 
 district to investigate its climate and facilities and 
 to report upon them. Another accredited the sen 
 ator himself with the intention of investing in a 
 large tract for the cultivation of semi-tropical fruits. 
 Local citizens, acquainted with the fact of his 
 former visit to Armitage, ascribed his present fly 
 ing trip to the same purpose, and thus it happened
 
 356 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 that friendly inquiry brought to the blind man 
 knowledge of his friend's recent proximity, and he 
 was left to form his own conclusions as to the pur 
 pose of Harmon's visit. 
 
 The blind have little to divert their minds from a 
 steadfast chronicle of the events which come within 
 the circle of their experience. Hence it was that 
 Armitage was afterwards enabled to date back to 
 the time of Harmon's visit the beginning of cer 
 tain mysterious behavior of Amy Judith's, and to 
 draw his own conclusions as to its meaning.
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII 
 
 RENUNCIATION 
 
 "MOTHER, she is tiring of it all." 
 
 "Amy Judith?" 
 
 "Yes, Amy. To expect her to be forever recon 
 ciled to this life of toil and. privation would be to 
 expect some wild, free bird of the woods to be blithe 
 and gay, shut up in a rusty cage." 
 
 Mrs. Armitage had noted Amy's odd restless 
 ness, her growing indifference to household cares 
 which she had formerly conscientiously performed, 
 even her neglect of little attentions hitherto faith 
 fully rendered Armitage, many of them under his 
 protest. 
 
 "She is so young! " the mother said, with a sigh. 
 
 "It is only natural she should grow impatient," 
 said Armitage sadly. " To expect otherwise would 
 be an injustice to her youth. We could not hope 
 to keep her here forever. To do so would be to 
 defraud her of youth's rightful heritage, of congen 
 ial companionship adapted to her years, of cheerful 
 surroundings, of all the little diversions that lighten 
 life and rob it of dull care. In her tenderness of 
 heart she might have been ready to make the sacri 
 fice. I gave her up when this came upon me, 
 mother."
 
 358 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "Oh, Paul, Paul!" 
 
 She bowed her head above him, arid a tear, an 
 old woman's bitter, hard-wrung tear, fell on his 
 brown hair. 
 
 After a little pause Armitage went on cheer- 
 fully:- 
 
 "Harmon was up here a month ago, mother. 
 He came to see her alone. There is only one ex 
 planation for his visit. And it is since then that 
 she has taken to these solitary walks in the hills. 
 She is rarely at home. She comes here at longer 
 and longer intervals. What answer she gave him 
 I do not know, but a man like Harmon should 
 command any woman's love, and sooner or later 
 he will win. He is a splendid fellow, well worthy 
 of her." 
 
 At this instant Amy Judith called out a gay little 
 greeting, on her way up the mountain trail. Her 
 face was sparkling, her voice joyous, and her step 
 light and free. The mother sighed as she turned 
 from the bonny girl to her son, depressed, discon 
 solate, aging before he had reached his prime. 
 
 The sound of the blithe young voice was a stimu 
 lus to Armitage. He rose from his chair, shaking 
 off the melancholy that weighed him down, as if it 
 had been a cumbrous garment, to be flung off at 
 pleasure. 
 
 "I shall look backward no more, mother, nor 
 burden myself with useless regrets. I am still a 
 strong man, and must sustain my part in life. If 
 one sense has been taken from me, that is all the 
 more reason why I should make the most of what
 
 RENUNCIATION 359 
 
 is left. I have brains, a good education, some pro 
 ficiency as a linguist, and a fund of reminiscence 
 that will grow more valuable as the years go by. I 
 have no doubt I might negotiate a magazine article 
 or so about art study abroad. First of all, I must 
 get back to the city, where I can employ my abili 
 ties to the best advantage. You shall go with me, 
 mother, and we will scandalize Bohemia by setting 
 up a bit of New England housekeeping in her 
 midst." 
 
 "Could n't you be content to live on here, Paul?" 
 asked the mother wistfully, for she dreaded change 
 with the sensitiveness of age, which finds its sorest 
 trial in conforming to new conditions and new sur 
 roundings. 
 
 " Here ! where every step I take would remind 
 me of the happiness I had lost!" said Armitage 
 sadly. "I should go mad. My only salvation is in 
 finding new surroundings, new interests. There is 
 not a rock or tree around here that is not in 
 some way associated with her, mother. The very 
 breeze that blows would bring memories of her. I 
 must go where I can forget." 
 
 Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival 
 of Rob, breathless with haste and excitement. 
 
 "They are going to make the survey of the land 
 at last!" he cried. "I saw Fowler down at the 
 station. He is to run the lines, and he told me to 
 tell you that as soon as he has finished, the plat will 
 be placed in the Receiver's office. It will be neces 
 sary to file as soon as that is done." 
 
 Armitage listened to this announcement without 
 concern.
 
 360 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 "I shall be glad to have Fowler up here," he 
 said quietly. "But I am no longer interested in 
 the filing."- 
 
 "But we want you to file upon it! " insisted Rob 
 firmly. "Amy will never touch it, and if you don't 
 enter the tract, some one else will be sure to file 
 when the sixty days' limit has expired." 
 
 "Then file upon it yourself , Rob. I hereby re 
 linquish every claim I may have, in your favor, and 
 make you a free gift of my improvements. I could 
 not comply with the law's requirements. A home 
 stead claim demands constant residence, and I am 
 going away." 
 
 The very earth seemed to collapse under Rob's 
 feet with this intelligence. He succeeded in con 
 trolling his voice and shakily asking: 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "Back to the city, Rob. I am beginning to real 
 ize that I may find a field of usefulness up there. 
 Some of my brother artists made me an offer last 
 spring, which appeared to me rather absurd at the 
 time, but now I 'm thinking seriously of accepting 
 it, with modifications." 
 
 Rob fumbled with some books lying on the table 
 beside him, then bent for a close examination of 
 the Japanese throne-chair, one of whose joints was 
 getting weak. 
 
 "Have you told Amy? " he asked at length. 
 
 "Not yet." 
 
 "I think you ought." 
 
 Could Armitage have seen the boy's frank face, 
 he would have read there the tokens of a secret
 
 RENUNCIATION 361 
 
 which was growing altogether too weighty for the 
 boy's keeping. 
 
 "I am going to tell her now," said Armitage, 
 reaching for his hat and stick. 
 
 The hard toil and heavy cares of the past two 
 years had hastened Rob's development. Stalwart 
 of figure andi earnest of countenance, his boyhood's 
 error had bextomje the strength of his manhood, steel 
 ing him agafnsfr temptation, teaching him a gentle 
 humility, and at the same time instilling in his 
 heart broad charity and sympathy for others, which 
 invested an originally arbitrary and self-sufficient 
 nature with a rarely winning personality. 
 
 He made no further remark, but silently waited, 
 while Armitage passed out of the door, and in the 
 direction the girl had gone, walking with a free, 
 firm stride along the accustomed path. Soon he 
 disappeared from sight in the windings of the gulch, 
 but Rob; eagerly watching, saw him reappear, climb 
 ing the steep trail leading to the summit of the 
 range. Mrs. Armitage joined him, looking over his 
 shoulder. 
 
 "He goes about so fearlessly," she said anxiously, 
 "and in places where I would not dare trust myself 
 if I had a dozen pairs of eyes. But he enjoys it so, 
 I do not like to discourage him. He has never gone 
 so far before. Do you think it is safe? " she asked 
 the boy, wistfully following the dark figure sil 
 houetted against the tawny brown of the hills. 
 
 "Perfectly safe! " Rob assured her, with the 
 happy security of youth. Then a sudden recollec 
 tion smote him.
 
 362 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 " Oh, the washout, the washout that carried 
 away the trail last spring! " he cried, in horror. "I 
 don't believe he knows ! And he 's already so far 
 up ! God help him ! God help me ! " 
 
 The boy flung himself out of the door, tearing off 
 his coat as he ran. Mrs. Armitage, dimly com 
 prehending the threatening danger, followed after, 
 a wan and pathetic figure, tottering along the rugged 
 path, with gray hair flying, and before her eyes the 
 awful spectacle of the dread abyss toward which the 
 blind man's feet were so unconsciously walking.
 
 CHAPTER XLIX 
 
 LIGHT IN DARKNESS 
 
 UNCONSCIOUS of threatening danger, Armitage 
 swung himself along the mountain trail, drinking 
 in new strength with every breath. The loss of one 
 faculty seemed to have increased the delicacy and 
 keenness of his remaining senses, and although he 
 could no longer see the many tinted blossoms and 
 rich green verdure that lined his path, their subtle 
 fragrance flowed like a cordial through his veins. 
 
 His ear was no less finely attuned to every sound 
 that thrilled the solitudes. The sweet calls of birds 
 and their happy songs, the hum of insects, the tin 
 kling of distant rills, the murmur of the wind that 
 sighed down the canon, seemed to him to blend 
 with innumerable minor cadences, to which common 
 ears were deaf, the soft movements of growing 
 plants, the stir of the sap as it quickened the bare 
 boughs, all uniting to form a glorious anthem, 
 nature's own choral harmony. 
 
 To-day he seemed to hear at intervals a new note 
 in this great song. He bent his head, listening 
 intently. Somewhere, far up in the hills, there 
 was a burst of melody swelling in full, liquid notes, 
 falling away in a cadence clear and sweet as the 
 song of the hermit thrush, then sporting itself in
 
 364 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 a series of playful trills. The very birds seemed 
 to hush their songs in the thickets, hearkening to 
 this wonderful human Voice exulting its power in 
 the high altitude. 
 
 Armitage pressed eagerly on in the direction of 
 the Voice, his head uplifted and thrown back, his 
 soul going out in joyous greeting to the singer who 
 had finished the long and rugged climb and stood 
 triumphant on the heights. 
 
 He was coming now to the one perilous part of 
 the trail, and he remembered the slender path run 
 ning like a thread along the face of a perpendicular 
 wall of earth and stone, and the great boulder mid 
 way, where a narrow shelf of rock afforded a slight 
 but firjn footing. What he did not know was that 
 the big stone, dislodged by the heavy rains of the 
 preceding season, was lying at the bottom of the 
 gulch, and that the mountaineers had made a new 
 trail around and above this point, unwilling to trust 
 their sure-footed pack-animals to its passage, with 
 a caving cliff of earth and rock above and a fall of 
 a thousand feet below. 
 
 The Voice was nearer now, but blending with it 
 and producing strange confusion and discord, he 
 seemed to hear a chorus of cries from the trail 
 below, terrified, warning voices, calling out in 
 entreaty and pain. Once he halted for an instant 
 and listened, but more distinct in his ear was the 
 soft flutter of a frightened bird, darting from her 
 nest in a thorn-tree, the rush of wings as she crossed 
 his path, the cheery, reassuring call of her mate 
 from a neighboring thicket, the low cry of the nes 
 tlings clamoring for food.
 
 LIGHT IN DARKNESS 365 
 
 He was on the narrow trail now, and he walked 
 with more caution, touching the bank on his right 
 with his stick, knowing perfect security demanded 
 that he should keep close to this inner wall. 
 
 A turn of the trail brought him to the slope on 
 the summit of which the Singer stood. 
 
 The Voice was only a little further on. He could 
 hear the words of the gay song it caroled, the 
 happy, care-free song, telling that from the Singer's 
 life the clouds had rolled away, and henceforth her 
 path lay in the clear sunshine amid the plaudits of 
 all human-kind. 
 
 How the melody soared out upon the air, inspir 
 ing, exulting, rejoicing in its own strength and 
 sweetness. His heart was lifted up by the music, 
 and his soul climbed the heights where the Singer 
 stood, unconscious of his coming, reveling in her 
 gift, waking the echoes of the hills, which seemed 
 to follow her like some divine refrain. 
 
 He was nearing the washout now. A few more 
 steps and he would reach the brink of the chasm, 
 and Death would be upon him with a thunderous 
 rush and roar and a yawning sepulchre in the depths 
 of the deep fissure. Oh, that some Divine hand 
 might be outstretched to warn and save him ! 
 
 And now the song suddenly faltered and died 
 away. Armitage pressed on, but his face grew 
 bewildered, and he walked like a man in a dream, 
 disappointment and discouragement growing with 
 every step. 
 
 The Singer had seen him treading the abandoned 
 trail, walking unawares into deadly peril, and her
 
 360 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 heart semed to die within her at the sight. To 
 disturb him by a cry of warning would be to seal 
 his doom. There seemed no hope for any human 
 help or intervention. For an instant the mountains 
 seemed to reel about her, the sunshine was blotted 
 out, and all the world grew dim before her eyes. 
 
 Then suddenly she rallied all her strength and 
 forced herself to think clearly and quickly. Only 
 instant and intelligent action might save him. There 
 was no longer chance for him to halt or turn back. 
 Already the broken earth was almost beneath his 
 feet. Hesitation meant destruction of his only hope, 
 and in another moment fie might be pausing, inde 
 cisive, hearkening again for the Voice which had 
 been his beacon in the darkness. 
 
 Solemn and sweet and slow, swelling with new 
 power and majesty, the Voice arose in Haydn's 
 mighty anthem, " The heavens are telling the glory 
 of God." 
 
 Armitage had reached the break in the trail. 
 His stick, extended to tap the wall at his right, 
 dislodged a shower of loose dirt and stones which 
 rattled down the abyss, carrying others with them 
 and making a thunderous din in the gulch below. 
 The ground was crumbling beneath his feet, his 
 staff touched nothing before. 
 
 The Singer was on her knees now, her hands 
 clasped, staring in agony before her. Her white 
 lips could scarce shape the words of the anthem, 
 but the Voice still rose, calm, majestic, uplifting, 
 "The wonder of his work proclaims the firmament." 
 
 The strong, solemn melody seemed to sustain and
 
 LIGHT IN DARKNESS 367 
 
 uplift Armitage even as the stars draw men's souls 
 upward. A moment's indecision, an instant of 
 panic or uncertainty, and he would have been lost, 
 but even as he felt the ground crumbling beneath 
 his feet he rested his hand lightly on the crumbling 
 bank, and swinging himself forward with a great 
 spring landed on firm ground on the trail beyond the 
 break. 
 
 "Safe! " shouted Rob, the awful strain over, and 
 grown suddenly conscious of that pitiful, feeble 
 figure toiling up the trail behind him. A gray- 
 haired woman sank weakly on the hillside to pour 
 out her heart in thanksgiving to her Maker, and 
 it was there the young fellow found her when he 
 turned back to lend her his stout support in retrac 
 ing the steep path. 
 
 "Safe!" 
 
 The echo of the cry reached Armitage, but he 
 gave it no heed. The Voice he had been so eagerly 
 following had suddenly and mysteriously ceased. 
 He hurried along the trail, oppressed by a vague 
 fear, calling aloud, but receiving no answer. Had 
 Song and Singer been nothing but a wild fancy, a 
 fiction of imagination playing upon his sensitive 
 hearing? Perplexed and wondering, he pressed 
 forward, possessed only by a generous longing to 
 be the first to lay his homage at the Singer's feet. 
 
 He had not far to go. At the widening of the 
 trail as it crossed the summit he came to where a 
 slight figure knelt, mute and helpless, now that the 
 tense strain was over. Even before his groping 
 hands touched her, he seemed to know her pre-
 
 368 THE BLACK CURTAIN 
 
 sence, and his face was transfigured with unself 
 ish joy. 
 
 "The days of care and toil and anxiety have 
 gone by for you. Now you have your crown again, 
 with its shining jewel, Amy," he cried, rejoicing. 
 
 Her answer came so low and faint that he must 
 fain stoop to hear it. 
 
 "But the manzanita berries are dearer! " 
 
 Armitage passed his hand over her head and 
 face, and thus became conscious of her kneeling 
 posture and of her wet cheeks. 
 
 "Why, Amy, what is this? Tears in the mo 
 ment of triumph! Dear child, what is the matter?" 
 
 "The broken trail! I was watching you, and 
 you were in such dreadful danger," she faltered. 
 "There was a great hole washed in the path, and 
 an awful fall below. You did not know. I was 
 sure you were lost." 
 
 "And your tender heart went out to the blind 
 man in his peril," he said, striving to divest the 
 incident of any deeper meaning, and to take no 
 advantage of her overwrought nerves. "I must be 
 more careful hereafter, if by my heedlessness I run 
 the risk of bringing such distress to my unselfish 
 little friend." 
 
 He gently raised her to her feet, but she shivered 
 and clung to him, so that he must fain support her 
 on his strong arm. 
 
 "My little queen among women, you may now 
 take your rightful place in the world again. Your 
 rich gift is restored. Let me be the first to con 
 gratulate you."
 
 LIGHT IN DARKNESS 369 
 
 Did her woman's intuition reveal the noble re 
 nunciation underlying his friendly words, or had 
 the dread calamity that had drawn so near swept 
 away the last vestige of affectation or reserve? 
 
 "It is worth nothing to me unless it brings help 
 and comfort and happiness to you," she said softly. 
 "When the hope first came, I cherished it for your 
 sake. All the effort and all the joy have been for 
 you. But if you no longer care " 
 
 She made a faint attempt to free herself from his 
 sustaining arm, but he held her to his heart, and 
 all the world was suddenly glorified to his darkened 
 eyes.
 
 CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS, U. S. A. 
 
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