“Hello!” Monty shouted buoyantly, for all he had just finished a twenty-mile ride through desert heat. He waited a minute, got no reply, and dismounted.
He pushed open the door and went in, his eyes betraying a shade of anxiety. The cabin was clean, blankets spread smoothly3 on the bunk4. He lifted a square of unbleached cloth that had once been a flour sack which covered sugar, salt, pepper, condensed milk and four tin teaspoons5, lately scoured6 until they almost shone, leaning bowls up in an empty milk can. Also a white enameled7 bowl two thirds full of dried apples and raisins8 stewed9 together. Monty heaved a sigh of relief. The movie star was evidently keeping house just like a human.
Monty went out and stood at the corner of the cabin near the horse. There was nothing the matter with his lungs, but the rest of him was tired. He hunted Gary by the simplest means at his command. That is, he cupped his palms around his mouth, curved his spine10 inward, planted his feet rather far apart, and sent a loud “Hello!” echoing through the cañon.
The thin-flanked sorrel threw up its head violently and backed, stepped on the dragging reins11 and was brought up short. Monty turned, picked up the reins and drawled a reproof12 before he called again. Four times he shouted and proceeded then to unsaddle. If the movie star were anywhere within Johnnywater Cañon he could not fail to know that he had a caller come to see him.
Five minutes later Monty glanced up and stared with his mouth slightly open. Gary was sneaking13 around the corner of the cabin with raised pitchfork in his hands and a glitter in his eyes. When he saw who it was, Gary lowered the pitchfork and grinned sheepishly.
“When you holler hello in this cañon, smile!” he paraphrased14 whimsically, and drew his shirt sleeve across his forehead. “Thought I’d landed that trick Voice at last. Well, darn it, how are you?”
“All right,” Monty grinned slowly, “if you just put down that hay fork. What’s the matter? You gittin’ like Waddell?”
Gary leaned the pitchfork against the cabin. He pushed his hair back from his forehead with a gesture familiar to audiences the country over.
“By heck, I hope not,” he exclaimed brusquely. “I’d given up looking for you, Monty. And that cussed Voice sounded to me like it had slipped. I’ve got used to it up on the hill, but I sure as heck will take a fall out of it if it comes hollering around my humble15 hang-out. Where’s the Ford16?”
Monty pulled saddle and blanket together from the back of the sorrel, leaving the wet imprint17 shining in the sun. The sorrel twitched18 its hide as the air struck through the moisture coldly.
“Well, now, the old Ford’s done been cremated19 ever since the night I left here,” Monty informed him pensively20. “Yuh-all recollect21 we had quite a wind from the west that night. Anyway, it blowed hard over to my camp. I started a fire and never thought a word about the Ford being on the lee side of camp, so first I knew the whole top of the car was afire. I just had time to give her a start down the hill away from camp before the gas tank blowed up. So that left me afoot, except for a saddle horse or two. Then I had some ridin’ to do off over the other way. And I knew yuh had grub enough to last a month or two, so I didn’t hurry right over like I would have done if yuh-all needed anything.” His keen eyes dwelt upon Gary’s face with unobtrusive attention.
The young movie star, he thought, had changed noticeably. He was a shade browner, a shade thinner, more than a shade less immaculate. Monty observed that he was wearing a pair of Waddell’s old trousers, tucked into a pair of Waddell’s high-laced boots with the heels worn down to half their height, the result of climbing over rocks. Gary’s shirt was open with a deep V turned in at the collar, disclosing a neck which certain sentimental22 extra girls at the studio had likened to that of a Greek god. Gary’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He looked, in short, exactly as any upstanding city chap looks when he is having the time of his life in the country, wearing old clothes—the older, the better suited to his mood—and roughing it exuberantly24.
Yet there was a difference. Exuberant23 young fellows from the city seldom have just that look in the eyes, or those lines at the corners of the mouth. Monty unconsciously adopted a faintly solicitous25 tone.
“How yuh-all been making it, anyway?” he asked, watching Gary roll a cigarette.
“Finest ever!” Gary declared cheerfully, lighting26 a match with his thumb nail, a trick he had learned from an old range man because it lent an effective touch sometimes to his acting27.
“A couple of Piutes happened along the other day, and I had them run in the horses for me. Thought I’d keep up a saddle horse so I could round up a team of work horses when I get ready to haul the hay.” He blew a mouthful of smoke and gave a short laugh. “I’m a heck of a stock hand for a gink that was born on a horse ranch28.” He blew another mouthful of smoke deliberately29, not at all conscious that he was making what is termed a dramatic pause, nor that he was making it with good effect. “I owe Pat Connolly,” he said slowly, “a cheap saddle horse. I’m glad Pat hadn’t learned to love that scrawny bay. Where can I get a horse for about a dollar and six bits?”
“No-o, I didn’t exactly lose a horse. It died.” Gary sat down in the doorway31 and folded his arms upon his knees.
“I ought to have had more sense,” he sighed, “than to stake him out so close to the shed where the sack of grain was. I sort of knew that rolled barley32 is not good as an exclusive diet for horses. I had a heck of a job,” he added complainingly, “digging a hole big enough to plant him in.”
Monty swore sympathetically; and after the manner of men the world over, related sundry33 misfortunes of his own by way of giving comfort. Gary listened, made profane34 ejaculations in the proper places, and otherwise deported35 himself agreeably. But when Monty ceased speaking while he attended to the serious business of searching his most inaccessible36 pockets for a match, Gary broached37 a subject altogether foreign to Monty’s plaintive38 reminiscences.
“Say, Monty! Was Waddell tall and kind of stoop-shouldered and bald under his hat? And did he have blue eyes and a kind of sandy complexion39 and lips rather thin—but pleasant, you know; and did he always wear an old gray Stetson and khaki pants tucked into boots like these?”
Monty found the match, in his shirt pocket after all. A shadow flicked40 across his face. Perhaps even Monty Girard had an instinct for dramatic pauses and hated to see one fall flat.
“Naw. Waddell wasn’t a very tall man and he was dark complected; the sallow kind of dark. His eyes was dark, too.” He examined the match rather carefully, as if he were in some doubt as to its proper use. He decided41 to light it and lifted a foot deliberately, so that he might draw the match sharply across the sole.
“That description of yours,” he said, flipping42 the match stub away from him and watching to see just where it landed, “tallies up with Steve Carson. Yuh ain’t——” He turned his head and regarded curiously43 the Gary Marshall profile, which at that moment was absolutely impassive. “It was Steve cut the logs and built this cabin,” he finished lamely44.
Gary unfolded his arms and stretched his legs out straight before him. “What happened to this Steve Carson?” he asked innocently. “Did he sell out to Waddell?”
“That’s Steve’s cat,” he observed irrelevantly46, glancing up as Faith came out of the bushes, picking her way carefully amongst the small rocks that littered the dooryard.
“Uh-huh.” Gary drew up his legs and clasped his hands around his knees. “If this Steve Carson didn’t sell out to Waddell, then where does Waddell come into the scene? Did Steve Carson give the darned thing away?”
Monty leaned forward, inspecting the small trench his spur had dug. Very carefully he began to rake the dirt back into it.
“It ain’t gettin’ yuh, is it?” He did not look up when he asked the question. He was painstakingly47 patting the dirt smooth with the toe of his boot.
“Getting me! Hell!” said Gary.
“It got Waddell—bad,” drawled Monty, biting a corner of his lip. “That’s why he sold out. It was gettin’ him. Bad.” Having filled the trench and patted the dirt smooth, Monty straightway began to dig another trench beside it.
“What is there to get a fellow?” Gary looked challengingly at Monty. “I’ve stayed with it two weeks, and I haven’t been got yet.” He laughed a little. “The Piutes told me a man disappeared here and left his Voice behind him. Of course that’s Injun talk. What’s the straight of it, Monty?”
“Well—nobody ever called me superstitious48 yet,” Monty grinned, “but that’s about the size of it. Steve Carson came up missing. Since then, there’s that Voice. I know it started in right away. I was over here helping49 hunt for him, and I heard it. Some says Steve went loco and tried to walk out. If he did, he left mighty50 onexpected, and he didn’t take anything at all with him. Not even a canteen, far as I could see. He had two, I know—and they was both hangin’ on the same nail beside the door. Uh course, he might a had another one—I hadn’t been over to Johnnywater for a coupla months, till I come over to see what was wrong. I was scoutin’ around the country for a week or more, tryin’ to get some trace of him.”
Having completed the second trench, Monty filled that one as carefully as he had filled the first. Abruptly51 he looked at Gary. “Yuh-all ain’t—seen anything, have yuh?”
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1
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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teaspoons
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| n.茶匙( teaspoon的名词复数 )；一茶匙的量 | |
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6
scoured
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| 走遍（某地）搜寻（人或物）( scour的过去式和过去分词 )； （用力）刷； 擦净； 擦亮 | |
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enameled
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| 涂瓷釉于，给…上瓷漆，给…上彩饰( enamel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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raisins
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| n.葡萄干( raisin的名词复数 ) | |
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stewed
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| adj.焦虑不安的，烂醉的v.炖( stew的过去式和过去分词 )；煨；思考；担忧 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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11
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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12
reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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paraphrased
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| v.释义，意译( paraphrase的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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Ford
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| n.浅滩，水浅可涉处；v.涉水，涉过 | |
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imprint
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| n.印痕，痕迹；深刻的印象；vt.压印，牢记 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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cremated
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| v.火葬，火化（尸体）( cremate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pensively
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| adv.沉思地，焦虑地 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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exuberantly
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| adv.兴高采烈地，活跃地，愉快地 | |
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solicitous
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| adj.热切的，挂念的 | |
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26
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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dubiously
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| adv.可疑地，怀疑地 | |
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31
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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barley
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| n.大麦，大麦粒 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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profane
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| adj.亵神的，亵渎的；vt.亵渎，玷污 | |
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deported
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| v.将…驱逐出境( deport的过去式和过去分词 )；举止 | |
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inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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broached
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| v.谈起( broach的过去式和过去分词 )；打开并开始用；用凿子扩大（或修光）；（在桶上）钻孔取液体 | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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39
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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40
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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41
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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42
flipping
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| 讨厌之极的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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44
lamely
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| 一瘸一拐地，不完全地 | |
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45
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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46
irrelevantly
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| adv.不恰当地，不合适地；不相关地 | |
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47
painstakingly
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| adv. 费力地 苦心地 | |
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48
superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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49
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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50
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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51
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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