Me Smith

Smith’s mind!”
    The tears slipped from under the Schoolmarm’s lashes, and her chin quivered.
    Worn out by the all night’s vigil at her mother’s bedside, and the exciting events of the morning, Susie finally succumbed to the strain and slept the sleep of exhaustion. It was almost supper-time when she awakened. Passing the Schoolmarm’s door, she heard a sound at which she stopped and frankly listened. Teacher was crying!
    “Ling, this is an awful world. Everything seems to be upside down and inside out!”
    “Plenty tlouble,” agreed Ling, stepping briskly about as he collected ingredients for his biscuits.
    “Don’t seem to make much difference whether you love people or hate ’em; it all ends the same way—in tears.”
    “Plitty bad thing—love.” Ling solemnly measured baking-powder. “Make people cly.”
    Susie surmised correctly that Ling’s ears also had been close to a nearby keyhole.
    “There’d ’a’ been fewer tears on this ranch if it hadn’t been for Smith.”
    “Many devils—Smith.”
    Susie sat on the corner of his work-table, and there was silence while he deftly mixed, rolled, and cut his dough.
    “Mr. Ralston intends to go away in the morning,” said Susie, as the biscuits were slammed in the oven.
    Ling wagged his head dolorously.
    “And they’ll never see each other again.”
    His head continued to wag.
    “Ling,” Susie whispered, “we’ve got to do something.” She stepped lightly to the open door and closed it.
----
    There were few at the supper-table that night, and there was none of the noisy banter which usually prevailed. The grub-liners came in softly and spoke in hushed tones, out of a kind of respect for two empty chairs which had been the recognized seats of Tubbs and the Indian woman.
    Ralston bowed gravely as Dora entered—pale, her eyes showing traces of recent tears. Susie was absent, having no heart for food or company, and preferring to sit beside her mother for the brief time which remained to her. Even Meeteetse Ed shared in the general depression, and therefore it was in no spirit of flippancy that he observed as he replaced his cup violently in its saucer:
    “Gosh A’mighty, Ling, you must have biled a gum-boot in this here tea!”
    Dora, who had drank nearly half of hers, was unable to account for the peculiar tang which destroyed its flavor, and Ralston eyed the contents of his cup doubtfully after each swallow.
    “Like as not the water’s gittin’ alkali,” ventured Old Man Rulison.
    “Alkali nothin’. That’s gum-boot, or else a plug of Battle Ax fell in.”
    Ling bore Meeteetse’s criticisms with surprising equanimity.
    A moment later the lights blurred for Dora.
    “I—I feel faint,” she whispered, striving to rise.
    Ralston, who had already noted her increasing pallor, hastened around the table and helped her into the air. Ling’s immobile face was a study as he saw them leave the room together, but satisfaction was the most marked of its many expressions. He watched them from the pantry window as they walked to the cottonwood log which served as a garden-seat for all.
    “I wonder if it was that queer tea?”
    “It has been a hard day for you,” Ralston replied gently.
    Dora was silent, and they remained so for some minutes. Ralston spoke at last and with an effort.
    “I am sorry—sorrier than I can tell you—that it has been necessary for me to hurt you. I should rather, far, far rather, hurt myself than you, Miss Marshall—I wish I could make you know that. What I have done has been because it was my duty. I am employed by men who trust me, and I was in honor bound to follow the course I have; but if I had known what I know now—if I had been sure—I might in some way have made it easier for you. I am going away to-morrow, and perhaps it will do no harm to tell you that I had hoped”—he stopped to steady his voice, and went on—“I had hoped that our friendship might end differently.
    “I shall be gone in the morning before you are awake, so I will say good-night—and good-by.” He arose and put out his hand. “Shall I send Susie to you?”
    The lump in Dora’s throat hurt her.
    “Wait a minute,” she whispered in a strained voice. “I want to say something, too, before you go. I don’t want you to go away thinking that I knew anything of Smith’s plans; that I knew he was going to steal cattle; that he was trying to make a ’stake’ for us—for me . It is all a misunderstanding.”
    Dora