flip-a california romance-第2章

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of　the　mountain；　which　in　the　Coast　Range　was　seldom　wooded。　　The

spiced　thicket　stretched　between　him　and　the　summit；　and　again

between　him　and　the　stage　road　that　plunges　from　the　terrace；　like

forked　lightning　into　the　valley　below。　　He　could　command　all　the

approaches　without　being　seen。　　Not　that　this　seemed　to　occupy　his

thoughts　or　cause　him　any　anxiety。　　His　first　act　was　to　disencumber

himself　of　his　tattered　coat；　he　then　filled　and　lighted　his　pipe；

and　stretched　himself　full…length　on　the　open　hillside；　as　if　to

bleach　in　the　fierce　sun。　　While　smoking　he　carelessly　perused　the

fragment　of　a　newspaper　which　had　enveloped　his　tobacco；　and　being

struck　with　some　amusing　paragraph；　read　it　half　aloud　again　to　some

imaginary　auditor；　emphasizing　its　humor　with　an　hilarious　slap　upon

his　leg。



Possibly　from　the　relaxation　of　fatigue　and　the　bath；　which　had

become　a　vapor　one　as　he　alternately　rolled　and　dried　himself　in

the　baking　grass；　his　eyes　closed　dreamily。　　He　was　awakened　by

the　sound　of　voices。　　They　were　distant；　they　were　vague；　they

approached　no　nearer。　　He　rolled　himself　to　the　verge　of　the　first

precipitous　grassy　descent。　　There　was　another　bank　or　plateau

below　him；　and　then　a　confused　depth　of　olive　shadows；　pierced　here

and　there　by　the　spiked　helmets　of　pines。



There　was　no　trace　of　habitation；　yet　the　voices　were　those　of　some

monotonous　occupation；　and　Lance　distinctly　heard　through　them　the

click　of　crockery　and　the　ring　of　some　household　utensil。　　It

appeared　to　be　the　interjectional；　half　listless；　half　perfunctory；

domestic　dialogue　of　an　old　man　and　a　girl；　of　which　the　words　were

unintelligible。　　Their　voices　indicated　the　solitude　of　the

mountain；　but　without　sadness；　they　were　mysterious　without　being

awe…inspiring。　　They　might　have　uttered　the　dreariest　commonplaces；

but；　in　their　vast　isolation；　they　seemed　musical　and　eloquent。

Lance　drew　his　first　sigh；they　had　suggested　dinner。



Careless　as　his　nature　was；　he　was　too　cautious　to　risk　detection

in　broad　daylight。　　He　contented　himself　for　the　present　with

endeavoring　to　locate　that　particular　part　of　the　depths　from　which

the　voices　seemed　to　rise。　　It　was　more　difficult；　however；　to

select　some　other　way　of　penetrating　it　than　by　the　stage　road。

〃They're　bound　to　have　a　fire　or　show　a　light　when　it's　dark；〃　he

reasoned；　and；　satisfied　with　that　reflection；　lay　down　again。

Presently　he　began　to　amuse　himself　by　tossing　some　silver　coins　in

the　air。　　Then　his　attention　was　directed　to　a　spur　of　the　Coast

Range　which　had　been　sharply　silhouetted　against　the　cloudless

western　sky。　　Something　intensely　white；　something　so　small　that　it

was　scarcely　larger　than　the　silver　coin　in　his　hand；　was　appearing

in　a　slight　cleft　of　the　range。



While　he　looked　it　gradually　filled　and　obliterated　the　cleft。　　In

another　moment　the　whole　serrated　line　of　mountain　had　disappeared。

The　dense；　dazzling　white；　encompassing　host　began　to　pour　over　and

down　every　ravine　and　pass　of　the　coast。　　Lance　recognized　the　sea…

fog；　and　knew　that　scarcely　twenty　miles　away　lay　the　oceanand

safety！　　The　drooping　sun　was　now　caught　and　hidden　in　its　soft

embraces。　　A　sudden　chill　breathed　over　the　mountain。　　He　shivered；

rose；　and　plunged　again　for　very　warmth　into　the　spice…laden

thicket。　　The　heated　balsamic　air　began　to　affect　him　like　a

powerful　sedative；　his　hunger　was　forgotten　in　the　languor　of

fatigue；　he　slumbered。　　When　he　awoke　it　was　dark。　　He　groped　his

way　through　the　thicket。　　A　few　stars　were　shining　directly　above

him；　but　beyond　and　below；　everything　was　lost　in　the　soft；　white；

fleecy　veil　of　fog。　　Whatever　light　or　fire　might　have　betokened

human　habitation　was　hidden。　　To　push　on　blindly　would　be　madness；

he　could　only　wait　for　morning。　　It　suited　the　outcast's　lazy

philosophy。　　He　crept　back　again　to　his　bed　in　the　hollow　and

slept。　　In　that　profound　silence　and　shadow；　shut　out　from　human

association　and　sympathy　by　the　ghostly　fog；　what　torturing　visions

conjured　up　by　remorse　and　fear　should　have　pursued　him？　　What

spirit　passed　before　him；　or　slowly　shaped　itself　out　of　the

infinite　blackness　of　the　wood？　　None。　　As　he　slipped　gently　into

that　blackness　he　remembered　with　a　slight　regret；　some　biscuits

that　were　dropped　from　the　coach　by　a　careless　luncheon…consuming

passenger。　　That　pang　over；　he　slept　as　sweetly；　as　profoundly；　as

divinely；　as　a　child。





CHAPTER　II。





He　awoke　with　the　aroma　of　the　woods　still　steeping　his　senses。

His　first　instinct　was　that　of　all　young　animals；　he　seized　a　few

of　the　young；　tender　green　leaves　of　the　yerba　buena　vine　that

crept　over　his　mossy　pillow　and　ate　them；　being　rewarded　by　a　half

berry…like　flavor　that　seemed　to　soothe　the　cravings　of　his

appetite。　　The　languor　of　sleep　being　still　upon　him；　he　lazily

watched　the　quivering　of　a　sunbeam　that　was　caught　in　the　canopying

boughs　above。　　Then　he　dozed　again。　　Hovering　between　sleeping　and

waking；　he　became　conscious　of　a　slight　movement　among　the　dead

leaves　on　the　bank　beside　the　hollow　in　which　he　lay。　　The　movement

appeared　to　be　intelligent；　and　directed　toward　his　revolver；　which

glittered　on　the　bank。　　Amused　at　this　evident　return　of　his

larcenous　friend　of　the　previous　day；　he　lay　perfectly　still。　　The

movement　and　rustle　continued；　but　it　now　seemed　long　and

undulating。　　Lance's　eyes　suddenly　became　set；　he　was　intensely；

keenly　awake。　　It　was　not　a　snake；　but　the　hand　of　a　human　arm；

half　hidden　in　the　moss；　groping　for　the　weapon。　　In　that　flash　of

perception　he　saw　that　it　was　small；　bare；　and　deeply　freckled。　　In

an　instant　he　grasped　it　firmly；　and　rose　to　his　feet；　dragging　to

his　own　level　as　he　did　so；　the　struggling　figure　of　a　young　girl。



〃Leave　me　go！〃　she　said；　more　ashamed　than　frightened。



Lance　looked　at　her。　　She　was　scarcely　more　than　fifteen；　slight

and　lithe；　with　a　boyish　flatness　of　breast　and　back。　　Her　flushed

face　and　bare　throat　were　absolutely　peppered　with　minute　brown

freckles；　like　grains　of　spent　gunpowder。　　Her　eyes；　which　were

large　and　gray；　presented　the　singular　spectacle　of　being　also

freckled；at　least　they　were　shot　through　in　pupil　and　cornea

with　tiny　spots　like　powdered　allspice。　　Her　hair　was　even　more

remarkable　in　its　tawny；　deer…skin　color；　full　of　lighter　shades；

and　bleached　to　the　faintest　of　blondes　on　the　crown　of　her　head；

as　if　by　the　action　of　the　sun。　　She　had　evidently　outgrown　her

dress；　which　was　made　for　a　smaller　child；　and　the　too　brief　skirt

disclosed　a　bare；　freckled；　and　sandy　desert　of　shapely　limb；　for

which　the　darned　stockings　were　equally　too　scant。　　Lance　let　his

grasp　slip　from　her　thin　wrist　to　her　hand；　and　then　with　a　good…

humored　gesture　tossed　it　lightly　back　to　her。



She　did　not　retreat；　but　continued　looking　at　him　in　a　half…surly

embarrassment。



〃I　ain't　a　bit　frightened；〃　she　said；　〃I'm　not　going　to　run　away；

don't　you　fear。〃



〃Glad　to　hear　it；〃　said　Lance；　with　unmistakable　satisfaction；　〃but

why　did　you　go　for　my　revolver？〃



She　flushed　again　and　was　silent。　　Presently　she　began　to　kick　the

earth　at　the　roots　of　the　tree；　and　said；　as　if　confidentially　to

her　foot；



〃I　wanted　to　get　hold　of　it　before　you　did。〃



〃You　did？and　why？〃



〃Oh；　you　know　why。〃



Every　tooth　in　Lance's　head　showed　that　he　did；　perfectly。　　But　he

was　discreetly　silent。



〃I　didn't　know　what　you　were　hiding　there　for；〃　she　went　on；　still

addressing　the　tree；　〃and；〃　looking　at　him　sideways　under　her　white

lashes；　〃I　didn't　see　your　face。〃



This　subtle　compliment　was　the　first　suggestion　of　her　artful　sex。

It　actually　sent　the　blood　into　the　careless　rascal's　face；　and　for

a　moment　confused　him。　　He　coughed。　　〃So　you　thought　you'd　freeze

on　to　that　six…shooter　of　mine　until　you　saw　my　hand？〃



She　nodded。　　Then　she　picked　up　a　broken　hazel　branch；　fitted　it

into　t