He had been there a long time. Once he slipped away for a short distance and stood in the deeper shadows, but he had returned, and was listening to the low, disjointed converse of the watchers within, when suddenly a tall form loomed up beside him and a heavy hand was dropped on his shoulder.
"Not a word!" said a voice close to his ear. "If you make a noise, I'll strangle you! Come along!"
To do otherwise was not easy, for the hand on his shoulder had a helpful grip. He was almost lifted over the ground until they were several yards from the cabin, and out in the clearer light of the stars.
"Well, I protest, Mr. Overton, that your manner is not very pleasant," remarked the captive, as he was released and allowed to speak. "Is--is this sort of threats a habit of yours with strangers in your camp?"
Overton, seeing him now away from the thick shadows of the cabin, gave a low exclamation of astonishment and irritation.
"_You_--Mr. Haydon! Well, you must confess that if my threats are not pleasant, neither is it pleasant to find some one moving like a spy around that little girl's cabin. If you don't want to be treated like a spy, don't act like one."
"Well, it does look queer, maybe," said the other, lamely. "I--I could not get asleep, and as I was walking around, it seemed natural to look in the cabin, though I did not want to disturb them by going in. I think I heard them say she was improving."
"Did they say that--lately?" asked Overton, earnestly, everything else forgotten for the moment in his strong desire for her recovery. "Who said it--Miss Slocum? Well, she seems like a sensible woman, and I hope to God she is right about this! Don't mind my roughness just now. I was too quick, maybe; but spies around a new gold mine or field are given pretty harsh treatment up here sometimes; and you were liable to suspicion from any one."
"No doubt--no doubt," agreed the other, with visible relief. "But to be a suspected character is a new rle for me--a bit amusing, too. However, now that you have broached the subject of this new find of yours, I presume Lyster made clear to you that I came up here for the express purpose of investigating what you have to offer, with a view to making a deal with you. And as my time here will be limited--"
"Perhaps to-morrow we can talk of it. I can't to-night," answered Overton. "To that little girl in there one-third of the stock belongs; another third belongs to that paralyzed man in the other cabin. I have to look after the interests of them both, and need to have my head clear to do it. But with her there sick--dying maybe--I can't think of dollars and cents."
"You mean to tell me that the young girl is joint owner of a gold find promising a fortune? Why, I understood Max to say she was poor--in fact, indebted to you for all care."
"Max is too careless with his words," answered Overton, coldly. "She is in my care--yes; but I do not think she will be poor."
"She has a very conscientious guardian, anyway," remarked Mr. Haydon, "when it is impossible for a man even to look in her cabin without finding you on his track. I confess I am interested in her. Can you tell me how she came in this wild country? I did not expect to find pretty young white girls in the heart of this wilderness."
"I suppose not," agreed the other.
They had reached the little camp fire by this time, and he threw some dry sticks on the red coals. As the blaze leaped up and made bright the circle around them, he looked at the stranger and said, bluntly:
"What did Akkomi tell you of her?"
"Akkomi?"
"Yes; the old Indian who went in with you to see her."
"Oh, that fellow? Some gibberish."
"I guess he must have said that she looks like you," decided Overton. "I rather think that was it."
"Like _me_! Why--how--" and Mr. Haydon tried to smile away the absurdity of such a fancy.
"For there is a resemblance," continued the younger man, with utter indifference to the stranger's confusion. "Of course it may not mean anything--a chance likeness. But it is very noticeable when your hat is off, and it must have impressed the old Indian, who seems to think himself a sort of godfather to her. Yes, I guess that was why he spoke to you."
"But her--her people? Are there only you and these Indians to claim her? She must have some family--"
"Possibly," agreed Overton, curtly. "If she ever gets able to answer, you can ask her. If you want to know sooner, there is old Akkomi; he can tell you, perhaps."
But Mr. Haydon made a gesture of antipathy to any converse with that individual.
"One meets so many astonishing things in this country," he remarked, as though in extenuation of something. "The mere presence of such a savage in the sick girl's room is enough to upset any one unused to this border life--it upset me completely. You see, I have a daughter of my own back East."
"So Max tells me," replied Overton, carelessly, all unconscious of the intended honor extended to him when Mr. Haydon made mention of his own family to a ranger of a few hours' acquaintance.
"Yes," Haydon continued, "and that naturally makes one feel an interest in any young girl without home or--relatives, as this invalid is; and I would be glad of any information concerning her--or any hint of help I might be to her, partly for--humanity's sake, and partly for Max."
"At present I don't know of any service you could render her," said Overton, coldly, conscious of a jarring, unpleasant feeling as the man talked to him. He thought idly to himself how queer it was that he should have an instinctive feeling of dislike for a person who in the slightest degree resembled 'Tana; and this stranger must have resembled her much before he grew stout and broad of face; the hair, the nose, and other points about the features, were very much alike. He did not wonder that Akkomi might have been startled at it, and made comments. But as he himself surveyed Mr. Haydon's features by the flickering light of the burning sticks, he realized how little the likeness of outlines amounted to after all, since not a shadow of expression on the face before him was like that of the girl whose sleep was so carefully guarded in the cabin.
And then, with a feeling of thankfulness that it was so, there flashed across his mind the import of the stranger's closing words--"for the sake of Max."
"For Max, you said. Well, maybe I am a little more stupid than usual to-night, but I must own up I can't see how a favor to 'Tana could affect Max very much."
"You do not?"
"I tell you so," said Overton curtly, not liking the knowing smile in the eyes of the speaker. He did not want to be there talking to him, anyway. To walk alone under the stars was better than the discord of a voice unpleasant. Under the stars she had come to him that once--once, when she had been clasped close--close! when she had whispered words near to his heart, and their hands had touched in the magnetism of troubled joy. Ah! it was best to remember that, though death itself follow after! A short, impatient sigh touched his lips as he tried to listen to the words of the stranger while his thoughts were elsewhere.
"And Seldon would do something very handsome for Max if he married to suit him," Haydon was saying, thoughtfully. "Seldon has no children, you know, and if this girl was sent to school for a while, I think it would come out all right--all right. I would take a personal interest to the extent of talking to Seldon of it. He will think it a queer place for Max to come for a wife; but when--when I talk to him, he will agree. Yes, I can promise it will be all right."
"What are you talking of?" demanded Overton, blankly. He had not heard one-half of a very carefully worded idea of Mr. Haydon's. "Max married! To whom?"
"You are not a very flattering listener," remarked the other, dryly, "and don't show much interest in the love affairs of your _protge_; but it was of her I was speaking."
"You--you would try to marry her to Max Lyster--marry her!" and his voice sounded in his own ears as strange and far away.
"Well, it is not an unusual prophecy to make