When the next letter came from Lahoma,Wilfred Compton and Bill Atkins hurried to the crevice in the mountain-top according to agreement.It was a cloudless afternoon,but at the farther end of the retreat the light of the lantern was necessary for its perusal.Brick Willock,who was there before them,read the letter in silence before handing it to the young man to read aloud.
It's just addressed to me,this time,he remarked grimly,in explanation of his proprietary act;they ain't no foolishness of 'Dear Brick and Bill.'But I treats you as friends should be treated,and lays before you everything Lahoma has found out.For Brick Willock,he says 'Friends is better friends when they don't know all about each other,'says he;and I tells you only what Lahoma has been told,according.
Wilfred took the letter,tingling with excitement.The strained watching and waiting for the sudden appearance of an unknown Red Kimball had made his bed in the cabin as sleepless as had been Bill's pallet in the dugout.They squatted about the lantern that rested on the stone floor,Willock always with eyes directed toward the narrow slit in the ceiling that they might not be taken by surprise.
The long natural corridor was bare,except for the old Spanish sword hanging upon the wall.A stout cedar post,firmly fixed in the extremity of the walls,formed a rude barricade against the abyss of unknown depth that yawned a few yards away from where they sat.This railing and the sword were the only evidences of man's possession,save for the ladder that would presently be carried back to the cove.No inquiries were made as to how Brick came and went,where he found food and a bed,or how he happened to be present at the precise moment of the arrival of the bearers of news.
Dear Brick,Lahoma began:By this time you have hidden where nobody can find you,for you've got my telegram and you know I wouldn't have sent it if it hadn't been necessary.You believe in me,and,as you would say,--how I'd love to hear you--you act 'according.'Well,and I believe in you,Brick,and you needn't imagine as long as you live that anybody could make me think you anything but what I know you to be,the kindest,most tender-hearted,most thoughtful man that ever lived.Get that fixed in your mind so when I tell what they say about you,you won't care,knowing I'm with you and will believe in you till death.
I'm going to skip everything except the part about you,for this letter goes by next mail.There's ever and ever so many other things I'd love to tell you,and I don't see how I can wait,but I'm going to find out,for wait I must.Maybe I ought to begin with Mr.Gledware so you'll know more about him when I begin on the main news.
We are at his house now and the house-party is in full swing.Mr.Gledware is pressing his suit to Annabel with all his might,and her mother is helping him.Nothing stands in the way--for she wants to marry him--except her love for Mr.Edgerton Compton.She told me all about her old romance with Wilfred--you remember him,I guess?She got to liking Edgerton after Wilfred went away because he looked so much like Wilfred.Maybe he does,but he isn't the same kind of man.Mr.Edgerton has spent all his money on fixing up the outside of the house,but Wilfred has spent his on the furnishings.Well!If Annabel could change her heart from one brother to the other just because Edgerton reminded her of Wilfred,I guess she won't have a very hard time making another transfer,especially as Mr.Gledware is traveling her way.When I love anybody,my love is the part of me that comes alive whenever that person is present,or is mentioned.So how could I slide it from one man to another,any more than the man himself could change to another man?And that's the way I love you,Brick,and not all the wealth or fame or good looks in the world (and you have neither)could get my heart away from YOU!
Or from Bill.
The first time I met Mr.Gledware,he acted in a curious way.Of course I was introduced as 'Miss Willock'and he started at the name,and at sight of me--two separate little movements just as plain as anything.Then he said he had heard the name 'Willock'in unusual surroundings,and that my face reminded him of somebody who was dead.That was all there was to it,then.But afterward he heard Annabel call me 'Lahoma,'and his face turned perfectly white.
The first chance he had,after that,he sat down to talk to me in a corner where we wouldn't be overhead,and he asked me questions.So,of course,I told about father and mother taking me across the prairie to the Oklahoma country,and how mother died and father was killed,and I was with the Indians a while and then was taken to live with my cousin,Brick.He listened with his head down,never meeting my eye,and when I had finished all he said was,'Did you ever bear my name before?'
And I said I never had.Then he asked if I thought I had ever seen him,for he thought he could remember having seem ME somewhere.And I said I wasn't sure,I had met so many people,and there was something familiar about him.Then he said he guessed we hadn't ever met unless accidentally on the trail somewhere,as he had once been down in Texas,--and that was all.
I don't like Mr.Gledware's eye because it always looks away from you.He would be considered a handsome man by anybody not particular about eyes.Afterward,I heard about his trip to Texas.Annabel and her mother were talking about Mr.Gledware's past.It seems that once Mr.Gledware and his first wife (I say his FIRST because I look upon Annabel as certain to be the second)joined the Oklahoma boomers and they were attacked by Indians,just as MY father and mother were,and they had with them his wife's little girl,for he had married a widow,just as MY father had (my stepfather)and there was a terrible battle.And Mr.Gledware,oh,he was SO brave!He killed ten Indians after the rest of his party,including his wife and daughter,had been slain,and he broke through the attacking party and escaped on a horse--the only one that got away.
