Jessica, the Heiress

“Oh, yes! This end has been dead for a great while, yet my mother would not have it removed. It would have lasted maybe forever in just that way; and Antonio knew how we prized it. Oh, dear! I do believe he is as wicked as the ‘boys’ say, though I hate to think that of anybody.” “Surely, you have had proof enough of his evil doings, even without these later fantastic developments. You must never trust that man, little girl, should he again try to make you.”

“I think he won’t bother me. Why should he?” asked she, in some surprise, for her friend’s tone had been most impressive. “Why should you imagine that?”

“I don’t know myself, exactly why. It just ‘happened’ into my head. By the way, captain, did you send me all of the specimen of copper that you had?”

“Oh, no, indeed! My mother thought best not. We sent you only a little bit, cut from the larger one Pedro dug. Let’s go into the office and I’ll open the safe and show you the rest. Do you know anything about such mines and stuff?”

“I do know something about ores and minerals, my dear, for before I was a newspaper man I was a clerk in the office of an expert in such matters. I should greatly like to see your sample,” he answered, readily.

So she led the way at once and took the key from a desk drawer, which anybody might have opened, and Ninian remarked:

“What an insecure place for a safe key! Yours is certainly a most confiding household.”

“Oh, it’s not a very safe safe, anyway,” she answered, laughing; “and who would want to open it? It’s Ephraim’s really, though I don’t think he’s ever been near it since he came home. Isn’t it a great, clumsy key? But my father told me that there are safes much, much larger and stronger than this which are opened by very small keys. Odd, isn’t it?” As she spoke she was down upon her knees in front of the strong box and trying with all her small strength to turn the lock; and after watching her for a moment the reporter laughed, and suggested:

“Suppose you just merely pull at the knob. It looks to me as if the thing were already opened, for the door isn’t tight; or is that protruding edge of it a part of the general crudeness?”

Jessica obeyed, pulling with such unnecessary force that the safe flew open and he fell backward, laughing.

But Mr. Sharp did not laugh. In view of what had been told him he was afraid the thing had been tampered with, and watched in silence while the little girl thrust her hand into the safe and felt all about, her face lengthening as she did so; but again, suddenly brightening, when she exclaimed:

“Oh, my mother must have done that! There was all the money in here that was left after Elsa got her own share. The first nights two of the ‘boys’ slept in the house to watch, ’cause mother was afraid we might lose it again. Then, since ‘Forty-niner’ got home only he has slept here, and he generally ‘bunks’ on the lounge in this very office. That’s what it is, what it must be. My mother has worried about Antonio, and has taken the money and the piece of copper away and put them somewhere else. Well, never mind. She’ll show it to you as soon as she comes back; and now, what shall we do next? Would you like to ride?”

Ninian passed his hand across his brow in mild perplexity. An instant conviction had seized him that here was another feature of the mysteries pervading this peaceful ranch; and though he as instantly frowned upon his own suspicion, it would remain to torment him. However, he said nothing further to disturb Jessica’s composure, and readily agreed that a ride would be delightful, though he added, grimly:

“I’m so lame and stiff already from yesterday’s horseback exercise that I feel older than Ephraim. I expect a ‘hair of the same dog’ is the best cure, and wish now I had made time, back there in town, to get used to a saddle. I never found it convenient, though, and poor Nimrod missed his outings even more than I did, I fancy. It certainly is a glorious day for a canter, as almost all our days are.”

“It’s nice, too, when the rains come. We do things indoors then that we never do all the rest of the year. My mother plays and sings half the time, ’cause then she can’t go poking around all over the ranch, like she does now. In the evenings the ‘boys’ all come in and tell stories or do their best to amuse us. We were always happiest, too, when Pedro came, and when my father was here he coaxed him and he came often. Now–he’ll never come again!” she finished, with an irrepressible burst of grief, which she as quickly suppressed, for she saw that it saddened her guest as well; and she had been reared in the spirit of hospitality that makes the stranger glad even at the cost of one’s own impulses.

So she added, with a smile that seemed all the brighter because of the tears still glistening on her long lashes:

“I’ll bring you some books out here and you can rest in the hammock while I run and have the horses saddled. Buster isn’t as fast as Nimrod, but he’ll go now and then as if he were a colt. I hope this will be one of his fast times, don’t you? I love to ride fast!” Ninian smiled rather grimly, answering:

“Just at present, from the state of my poor muscles, I fancy I’d prefer a gait as slow as Buster’s ordinary one. But if I stay the week out, I mean to learn a thing or two about that fine beast of mine.”

“A week or two! Why, you’re to be here till after Christmas, anyway, and that’s a fortnight off. I wish–oh, I wish you would live here always!”

From his delightful resting place in a hammock that was “stretched just right,” and which commanded one of the loveliest views in the world, he looked afield and wished so too. Fond as he was of his own active city life, this broad outlook appealed to him most strongly; yet he shook off the longing that assailed him to pass his days in the country and opened the book Jessica had brought. He was soon absorbed in its pages and forgot the errand upon which the child had gone, till, after a long time, as it proved, Ned stole bashfully up and pushed a scrap of paper into his down-hanging hand.

“Hello, youngster!” cried the gentleman, sitting up. “What’s this?”

The child’s timidity banished at the first sound of the visitor’s voice. Mr. Sharp reading, with his spectacles on, and Mr. Sharp speaking in that hail-fellow-well-met manner were two different people. Besides that, Ned’s shyness was not his strongest feature, though it cropped out now and then to the astonishment of his family. Also, he was fresh from the hands of Aunt Sally and his catechism lesson, into which she had adroitly forced a hint of the conduct due toward a “wise man, that can write printin’.” Supposing it to be a production of the little fellow’s own, Mr. Sharp delayed the reading of the crumpled epistle he had received and continued his talk with its bearer; who presently forgot his Sunday manners, and reproachfully demanded that “printing press you promised.”

“’Cause if I had it I’d be just as smart as you, you know.”

“Smartersyou!” cried the echo, clasping Ned’s neck with that choking affection of his.

Ned turned upon his other self and pummeled him well, declaring:

“No, you wouldn’t neither, Luis Garcia! ’Twouldn’t be your printing press, and you can’t spell cat backwards! So, there!”

“Cat backwards, dogboycat,” gurgled Luis, in a rapture of mere existence.

Ninian laughed at the comical pair, finding them infinitely diverting; and was only brought back to his immediate duty by the insistence of the small messenger, who demanded:

“Why don’t you read your letter? I should think anybody what makes newspapers could read a little girl’s letter.”

“That’s a fact; I’ll see if I can;” and accordingly spread out the scrap of wrapping paper, which had not been very smooth to start with and had suffered further ill treatment at Ned’s hand. The note required a second reading before he could fully comprehend its meaning, which he then found sufficiently startling to send him stableward in hot haste. The message was from the little captain, and was worded thus:

“dear mister sharp please excuse me i must go to a Dyeing man and i Mustnt Tell Who cause if my mother was Home I Wood and she wood say yes. She always helps dyeing folks and sick ones one the boys will go and he can ride Moses or prince Which he likes. I guess marty so i Cant right any more the paper is so littul and i cant Stay.”

“JESSICA.”

This had been written with a coarse blue pencil, evidently picked up in the stable or workroom; and to the reporter’s inquiries, put to the first ranchman he met, there seemed no satisfactory answer. The man in question had not seen Jessica since service, and the men’s quarters to which Ninian hurried, were almost deserted. Sunday was their own, so the “boys” spent much of it afield, hunting or visiting on neighboring ranches. Yet a further search revealed John Benton, in his own room, reading; and to him the visitor again put the question of Jessica’s probable whereabouts, and showed the letter.

The carpenter was on his feet instantly, a look of apprehension deepening the lines of his earnest face; and running to the door he shouted to a stable boy who was crossing the space before the old adobes:

“Natan! Natan!”

The youth paused, hesitated, yet came no nearer; and John repeated his summons, with an imperative “Here!” Then muttered an explanation to the reporter: “Another of those no-account Greasers; same kind as the Bernals and hired by top-lofty when, he was in charge. Works well enough but–”

By this time Natan had slouched forward and stood stolidly awaiting an expected as well as merited reproof, because of stalls imperfectly cleaned and harnesses left in other than their own places; for John was orderly to the last degree and a very martinet in disciplining his subordinates. However, it was no neglect of duty that was now to be scored, but a question was fairly hurled at the young groom and in a voice sharp with anxiety:

“Natan, did you saddle Buster just now?”

“But yes,” answered the lad, greatly relieved.

“Where is he? And Nimrod?”

“Nimrod is at the ‘house’ horse block, is it not? Si. Groomed to the highest, and a beauty we’re all glad to see back where he belongs.”

“Your opinion wasn’t asked. Where is Buster?”

“Where the captain wills. I know not, I,” with a shrug of his lean shoulders.

“Did she mount him?”

“Why else should he be saddled, no?” returned the groom, with an insolent laugh.

John’s temper flamed and he turned away with a disgusted snort, meaning to seek information elsewhere on a case he felt permitted no delay. But Ninian was cooler, if equally suspicious that Natan was concealing something that should be known; so, laying his hand not unkindly upon the youth’s shoulder, he said:

“If you know anything of this, where Miss Jessica has gone and with whom, or if alone, it will be worth your while to tell me and at once. I’m pretty good pay for seasonable articles,” he finished, in his journalistic manner.

He had taken a dollar from his pocket and was carelessly tossing it from hand to hand, nor was he disappointed when Natan fixed his black eyes greedily upon the coin. Still the lad said nothing, only pondered in his own dull mind which of two masters it would benefit him most to serve; and annoyed by this hesitation, Ninian hazarded a guess:

“Oh, well, if you prefer to work for Antonio Bernal, it’s all one to me.”

Natan’s mouth flew open and his eyes grew wild: