She swung off fiercely, and the man chuckled softly as he followed,
watchfully, through the circling, red dust cloud created by her hasty
feet. The truth is, Mr. Hampton possessed troubles and scruples of his
own in connection with this contemplated call. He had never met the
lady; indeed, he could recall very few of her sex, combining
respectability and refinement, whom he had met during the past ten
years. But he retained some memory of the husband as having been
associated with a strenuous poker game at Placer, in which he also held
a prominent place, and it would seem scarcely possible that the wife
did not know whose bullet had turned her for some weeks into a
sick-nurse. For Herndon he had not even a second thought, but the
possible ordeal of a woman's tongue was another matter. A cordial
reception could hardly be anticipated, and Hampton mentally braced
himself for the worst.
There were some other things, also, but these he brushed aside for the
present. He was not the sort of man to wear his heart upon his sleeve,
and all his life long he had fought out his more serious battles in
loneliness and silence. Now he had work to accomplish in the open; he
was going to stay with the Kid--after that, quien sabe? So he smiled
somewhat soberly, swore softly to himself, and strode on. He had never
yet thrown down his cards merely because luck had taken a bad turn.
It was a cheerless-looking house, painted a garish yellow, having
staring windows, and devoid of a front porch, or slightest attempt at
shade to render its uncomely front less unattractive. Hampton could
scarcely refrain from forming a mental picture of the woman who would
most naturally preside within so unpolished an abode--an angular,
hard-featured, vinegar-tempered creature, firm settled in her
prejudices and narrowed by her creed. Had the matter been left at that
moment to his own decision, this glimpse of the house would have turned
them both back, but the girl unhesitatingly pressed forward and turned
defiantly in through the gateless opening. He followed in silence
along the narrow foot-path bordered by weeds, and stood back while she
stepped boldly up on the rude stone slab and rapped sharply against the
warped and sagging door. A moment they stood thus waiting with no
response from within. Once she glanced suspiciously around at him,
only to wheel back instantly and once more apply her knuckles to the
wood. Before he had conjured up something worth saying the door was
partially opened, and a rounded dumpling of a woman, having rosy
cheeks, her hair iron-gray, her blue eyes half smiling in uncertain
welcome, looked out upon them questioningly.