Beth Norvell
Page 75The man uttered an unrestrained oath, fully believing now that he was
being led into a cunningly devised trap. His mental operations were
slow, but he was swift and tenacious enough in prejudice. He stopped
still, and the two stood silently facing each other, the same vague
spectre of suspicion alive in the minds of both.
"Farnham," the man muttered, for one instant thrown off his guard from
surprise. "How th-the hell d-d-did he g-git hold o' that?"
"I don't know; but is n't it true?"
He turned her face around toward the light, not roughly, yet with an
unconscious strength which she felt irresistible, and looked at her
searchingly, his own eyes perceptibly softening.
"Y-you sure l-l-look all right, little g-girl," he admitted, slowly,
"but I 've h-heard th-th-that feller was hell with w-women. I-I reckon
He paused, wiping his perspiring face with the back of his hand, his
cheeks reddening painfully under her unfaltering gaze. Finally he
blurted out: "Say, w-who are you, anyhow?"
"Beth Norvell, an actress."
"You kn-kn-know Farnham?"
She bent her head in regretful acknowledgment.
"An' you kn-kn-know the señorita?"
"Yes, a very little."
Stutter Brown wet his lips, shifting awkwardly.
"Well, y-you 'll excuse me, M-Miss," he stuttered in an excess of
embarrassment, yet plunging straight ahead with manly determination to
have it out. "I-I ain't much used t-t-to this sorter th-thing, an'
affairs, nohow. But you s-see it's th-this way. I 've sorter t-took a
big l-l-likin' to that dancin' girl. Sh-she 's a darn sight n-n-nearer
my s-style than anything I 've been up a-against fer s-some time. I-I
don't just kn-know how it h-h-happened, it was so blame s-sudden, b-but
she 's got her l-l-lasso 'bout me all r-right. But Lord! sh-she 's all
fun an' laugh; sh-sh-she don't seem to take n-nothin' serious like, an'
you c-can't make much ou-ou-out o' that kind; you n-never know just how
to t-take 'em; leastwise, I don't. N-now, I 'm a plain s-s-sorter man,
an' I m-make bold ter ask ye a m-mighty plain sorter qu-question--is
that there M-M-Mercedes on the squar?"
He stood there motionless before her, a vast, uncertain bulk in the dim
light, but he was breathing hard, and the deep earnestness of his voice
"Why do you ask me that?" she questioned, for the moment uncertain how
to answer him. "I scarcely know her; I know almost nothing regarding
her life."
"Y-you, you are a w-woman, Miss," he insisted, doggedly, "an', I t-take
it, a woman who will u-understand such th-th-things. T-tell me, is she
on the squar?"
"Yes," she responded, warmly. "She has not had much chance, I think,
and may have made a mistake, perhaps many of them, but I believe she 's
on the square."