She did not believe that harm had befallen Gary. Things couldn’t happen to Gary Marshall. Not for one moment, she told herself resolutely4, had she believed it. Yet the mystery of his absence nagged5 at her like a gadfly.
Fifty feet or so away, partially6 hidden by a young juniper, Patricia could discern the white tarp that covered the bed where Monty Girard and Joe were still asleep. She stepped down off the doorsill and made her way quietly to the creek7, and knelt on a stone and laved her face and hands in the cool water.
Standing8 again and gazing up through the fringe of tree tops at the towering, sun-washed butte, Patricia told herself that now she knew what people meant when they spoke9 of air like wine. She could feel the sparkle, the heady stimulation10 of this rare atmosphere untainted by the grime, the noise, the million conflicting vibrations11 created by the world of men. After her sleep she simply could not believe that any misfortune could have befallen her Gary, whose ring she wore on her third finger, whose kisses were the last that had touched her lips, whose face, whose voice, whose thousand endearing little ways she carried deep in her heart.
“The God that made all this wouldn’t let anything happen to Gary!” she whispered fiercely, and drew fresh courage from the utterance12.
The mottled cat appeared, coming from the bushes across the tiny stream. It halted and looked at her surprisedly and gave an inquiring meow. Patricia stooped and held out her hands, calling softly. She liked cats.
“Come, kitty, kitty—you pretty thing!”
Faith regarded her measuringly, then hopped13 across the creek on two stones and rubbed against Patricia’s knees, purring and mewing amiably14 by turns. Patricia took the cat in her arms and stroked its sleek15 fur caressingly16, and Faith radiated friendliness17.
Patricia made her way through the grove, glimpsed the corral and went toward it, her big eyes taking in everything which Gary may have touched or handled. Standing by the corral, she looked out toward the creek, seeking the bushy juniper of which Monty had spoken. Carrying the cat still in her arms she started forward through the tall weeds and bushes, burrs sticking to her skirt and clinging to her silken stockings.
Abruptly18 Faith gave a wriggle19 and a jump, landed on all four feet two yards in advance of Patricia, and started off at an angle up the creek, looking back frequently and giving a sharp, insistent20 meow. Patricia hesitated, watching the cat curiously21. She had heard often enough of dogs who led people to a certain spot when some one the dog loved was in trouble. She had never, so far as she could remember, heard of a cat doing the same thing; but Patricia owned a brain that refused to think in grooves22 fixed23 by the opinions of others.
“I can’t see any reason why cats can’t lead people the same as dogs,” she told herself after a moment’s consideration, and forthwith turned and followed Faith.
Just at first she was inclined to believe that the cat was walking at random24; but later she decided25 that Monty Girard had been slightly inaccurate26 in his statement regarding the exact location of the juniper beside the creek. The mottled cat led her straight to the grave and stopped there, sniffing27 at the dirt and patting it daintily with her paws.
Monty was frying bacon with a great sizzling and sputtering28 on a hot stove when Patricia entered the cabin. Her cheeks showed more color than had been seen in them for weeks. Her eyes were clear and met Monty’s inquiring look with their old, characteristic directness.
“Have a good sleep?” he asked with that excessive cheerfulness which is seldom genuine. Monty himself had not slept until dawn was breaking.
“Fine, thank you,” Patricia answered more cordially than she had yet spoken to Monty. “Mr. Girard, this may not be a pleasant subject before breakfast, but it’s on my mind.” She paused, looking at Monty inquiringly.
“Shoot,” Monty invited calmly. “My mind’s plumb29 full of unpleasant things, and talking about them can’t make it any worse, Miss Connolly.”
“Well, then, I’ve been up to that grave. And it wasn’t made by any murderer. I somehow know it wasn’t. A murderer would have been in a hurry, and I should think he’d try to hide it—and he wouldn’t pick the prettiest spot he could find. And I know perfectly30 well, Mr. Girard, that if I had killed a man, I wouldn’t spat31 the dirt down over his grave and make it as nice and even as that grave is up there. And somebody picked some flowers and laid them at the head, Mr. Girard. They had wilted—and I don’t suppose you noticed them.
“Besides,” she finished, after an unconscious pause that seemed to sum up her reasoning and lend weight to the argument, “the cat knows all about it. She tried as hard as ever she could to tell me. I—this may sound foolish, but I can’t help believing it—I think the cat was there looking on, and I’m pretty sure it was some one the cat knew and liked.”
Monty poured coffee all over Patricia’s plate, his hand shook so. “Gary kinda made a pal32 uh that cat,” he blurted33, before he realized what meaning Patricia must read into the sentence.
“The cat was here when Gary arrived, I suppose,” Patricia retorted sharply, squaring her chin. “I can’t imagine him bringing a cat with him.”
A look of relief flashed into Monty’s face. “That cat’s been here on the place for about eight years, as close as I can figure. Steve Carson got it from a woman in Vegas when it was a kitten, and packed it out here in a nose bag hung on his burro’s pack. Him and the cat wasn’t ever more than three feet apart. There’s been something queer about that cat, ever since Steve came up missing.”
Monty started for the door, having it in his mind to call the boy to breakfast. But a look in Patricia’s eyes stopped him, and he turned back and sat down opposite her at the table.
“I’d let that boy sleep—all day if he wants to,” Patricia remarked. “He’ll do enough talking about us and our affairs, as it is. I wish you’d tell me about this Steve Carson. I never heard of him before.”
Whereupon Monty related the mysteriously gruesome story to Patricia, who listened so absorbedly that she neglected a very good breakfast. Afterward34 she announced that she would wash the dishes and keep breakfast warm for Joe, who appeared to be afflicted35 with a mild form of sleeping sickness, since Monty yelled at him three times at a distance of no more than ten feet, and elicited36 no response save a grunt37 and a hitch38 of the shoulders under the blankets. Monty left him alone, after that, and started off on another exhaustive search of the cañon, tactfully leaving Patricia to herself.
Patricia was grateful for the temporary solitude39. Never in her life had she been so full of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Her forced resentment40 against Gary had suffered a complete collapse41; the revulsion of feeling was overwhelming. It seemed to Patricia that her very longing42 for him should bring him back.
She pulled his suit case from under the bunk, touching43 lock and clasps and the smooth leather caressingly with her fingers. Its substantial elegance44 spoke intimately to her of Gary’s unfailing good taste in choosing his personal belongings45. The square-blocked initials, “G. E. M.” (Gary Elbert Marshall, at which Patricia had often laughed teasingly), brought a lump into her throat. But Patricia boasted that she was not the weepy type of female. She would not yield now to tears.
She almost believed it was accident that raised the lid. For a moment she hesitated, not liking46 to pry47 into the little intimacies48 of Gary’s possessions. But she saw her picture looking up from under a silk shirt still folded as it had come from the laundry, and the sight of her own pictured eyes and smiling lips gave her a reassuring49 sense of belonging there.
It was inevitable50 that she should find the “Dear Pat:” letters; unfolded, the pages stacked like a manuscript, and tucked flat on the bottom under the clothing.
Patricia caught her breath. Here, perhaps, was the key to the whole mystery. She lifted out the pages with trembling eagerness and set her lips upon the bold scribbling51 she knew so well. She closed the suit case hastily, pushed it out of sight beneath the bunk and hurried out of the cabin, clasping the letters passionately52 to her breast. She wanted to be alone, to read them slowly, gloatingly, where no human eye could look upon her face.
She went down to the creek, crossed it and climbed a short distance up the bluff53, to where a huge bowlder shaded a smaller one beside it. There, with the butte staring down inscrutably upon her, she began to read.
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1
gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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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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resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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nagged
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| adj.经常遭责怪的；被压制的；感到厌烦的；被激怒的v.不断地挑剔或批评（某人）( nag的过去式和过去分词 )；不断地烦扰或伤害（某人）；无休止地抱怨；不断指责 | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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stimulation
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| n.刺激，激励，鼓舞 | |
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vibrations
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| n.摆动( vibration的名词复数 )；震动；感受；（偏离平衡位置的）一次性往复振动 | |
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utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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caressingly
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| 爱抚地，亲切地 | |
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friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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wriggle
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| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
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insistent
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| adj.迫切的，坚持的 | |
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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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grooves
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| n.沟( groove的名词复数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏v.沟( groove的第三人称单数 )；槽；老一套；（某种）音乐节奏 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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inaccurate
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| adj.错误的，不正确的，不准确的 | |
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sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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28
sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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plumb
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| adv.精确地，完全地；v.了解意义，测水深 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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33
blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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elicited
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| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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38
hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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39
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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40
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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41
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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42
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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43
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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44
elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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45
belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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47
pry
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| vi.窥(刺)探，打听；vt.撬动(开，起) | |
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48
intimacies
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| 亲密( intimacy的名词复数 )； 密切； 亲昵的言行； 性行为 | |
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49
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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50
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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51
scribbling
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| n.乱涂[写]胡[乱]写的文章[作品]v.潦草的书写( scribble的现在分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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52
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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53
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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