Bells of San Juan, The

<h3> CHAPTER XX </h3> <h4> FLUFF AND BLACK BILL </h4> <p>Fluff and Black Bill were quarrelling.</p> <p>Elmer, while Norton and Virginia were on their way from San Juan to Las Estrellas, had dropped in at the hotel to see his sister. He found upon her office table the card which she always left for him; this merely informed him that she was "out on a case at Las Estrellas." Elmer had come for her purposing to suggest a call upon the Engles. For not yet had he summoned the hardihood to present himself alone at Florrie's home. Now, disgruntled, seeing plainly that Virginia would never get back in time, he went out on the veranda and took solace from the pipe to which he had grown fairly accustomed. To him came the girl of whom he was thinking. "Hello, Fluff," he said from the shadows.</p> <p>"Hello, Black Bill," she greeted him. "Where's Virgie?"</p> <p>"Gone," he informed her, waving his pipe. "On a case to Las Estrellas. I'm waiting for her. Did you want to see her?"</p> <p>Florrie, coming down the veranda to him, giggled.</p> <p>"No," she told him flippantly. "I'm looking for the Emperor of China. I never was so lonesome.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;."</p> <p>"So'm I," said Elmer. He pushed a chair forward with his foot. "Sit down and we'll wait for her. And I'll go in and bring out a couple of bottles of ginger ale or something."</p> <p>"Will she be back real soon?" asked Florrie pretending to hesitate.</p> <p>"Sure," he assured her positively.</p> <p>"All right then." Florrie with a great rustling of skirts sat down. "But you must be nice to me, Black Bill."</p> <p>"It's always you who starts it," he muttered at her. "I'd be friends if you would. What's the good of spatting like two kids, anyway?"</p> <p>"We're really not kids any longer, are we?" she agreed demurely. "I feel terribly grown up sometimes, don't you?"</p> <p>From which point they got along swimmingly for perhaps five minutes longer than it had ever been possible for them to talk together without "starting something." Elmer, very emphatic in his own mind concerning his matured status, yearned for her to understand it as he did. With such purpose clearly before him&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and before her, too, for that matter, since Miss Florrie had a keen little comprehension of her own&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. he spoke largely of himself and his blossoming plans. He was a vaquero, to begin with; he had ridden fifty miles yesterday on range business; he was making money; he was putting part of that money away in Mr. Engle's bank. There was a little ranch on the rim of Engle's big holding which belonged to an old half-breed; Elmer meant to acquire it himself one of these days. And before so very long, too. Mr. Engle had been approached and was looking into it, might be persuaded to advance the couple of thousand dollars for the property, taking as security a mortgage until Elmer could have squared for it. Then Black Bill would begin stocking his place, a cow now, a horse, another cow, and so on.</p> <p>He had launched himself valiantly into his tale. But at a certain point he began to swallow and catch at his words and smoke fast between sentences. He had located a dandy spot for a house&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. the jolliest little spring of cold water you ever saw&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. a knoll with big trees upon it.</p> <p>"We'll make up a party with Virginia and Norton some day and ride out there," he said abruptly. "I&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. I'd like to have you see it, Fluff."</p> <p>She was tremulously delighted. She sensed the nearest thing to an out-and-out proposal which had ever sung in her ears. She leaned forward eagerly, her hands clasped to keep them from trembling. She was sixteen, he eighteen&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and she had his assurance of a moment ago that they were no longer just "kids." And then and there their so-long-delayed quarrel began. Just at the wrong time, after the time-honored fashion of quarrels. He was ready to twine the vine about the veranda posts of the house on the knoll where the spring and the big trees were, she was ready to plant the fig-tree. Then she had glimpsed something just too funny for anything in the idea of Elmer raising pigs&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. for he had gone on to that, sagely anticipating a high market another season&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and she laughed at him and all unintentionally wounded his feelings. In a flash he was Black Bill again and on his mettle, ready with the quick retort stung from him; and she, parrying his thrust, was at once Fluff, the mercuric. The spat was on&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. they would call it a spat to-morrow if to-morrow were kind to them&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and Elmer's ranch and house and cow, horse and pigs were laughed to scorn.</p> <p>Florrie departed leaving her cruellest laughter to ring in his ears. This might have been a repetition of any one of a dozen episodes familiar to them both, but never, perhaps, had Elmer's ears burned so or Florrie's heart so disturbed her with its beating. For, she thought regretfully as she hurried out into the street, they had been getting along so nicely.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p> <p>She had no business out alone at this time of night and she knew it. So she hurried on, anxious to get home before her father, who was returning late from a visit to one of his ranches. Abreast of the Casa Blanca she slowed up, looking in curiously. Then, as again she was hastening on, she heard Jim Galloway's deep voice in a quiet "Good evening, Miss Florence."</p> <p>"Good evening!" gasped Florrie aloud. And "Oh!" said Florrie under her breath. For Galloway's figure had separated itself from the shadows at the side of his open door and had come out into the street, while Galloway was saying in a matter-of-fact way: "I'll see you home."</p> <p>She wanted to run and could not. She hung a moment balancing upon a high heel in indecision. Galloway stepped forward swiftly, coming to her side. "Oh, dear," the inner Florrie was saying. A glance over her shoulder showed her Black Bill standing out in front of Struve's hotel. Well, there were compensations.</p> <p>She started to hurry on, and had Jim Galloway been less sure of himself, troubled with the diffidence of youth as was Elmer, he must have either given over his purpose or else fairly run to keep up with her. But being Jim Galloway, he laid a gentle but none the less restraining hand upon her arm.</p> <p>"Please," he said quietly. "I want to talk with you. May I?"</p> <p>Florrie's arm burned where he had touched her. She was all in a flutter, half frightened and the other half flattered. A shade more leisurely they walked on toward the cottonwoods. Here, in the shadows, Galloway stopped and Florrie, although beginning to tremble, stopped with him.</p> <p>"Men have given me a black name here," he was saying as he faced her. "They've made me somewhat worse than I am. I feel that I have few friends, certainly very few of my own class. I like to think of you as a friend. May I?"</p> <p>It was distinctly pleasant to have a big man like Galloway, a man whom for good or for bad the whole State knew, pleading with her. It gave a new sort of assurance to her theory that she was "grown up"; it added to her importance in her own eyes.</p> <p>"Why, yes," said Florrie.</p> <p>"I am going away," he continued gravely. "For just how long I don't know. A week, perhaps a month, maybe longer. It is a business matter of considerable importance, Florence. Nor is it entirely without danger. It will take me down below the border, and an American in Mexico right now takes his life entirely into his own hands. You know that, don't you?"</p> <p>"Then why do you go?"</p> <p>Galloway smiled down at her.</p> <p>"If I held back every time a danger-signal was thrown out," he said lightly, "I wouldn't travel very far. Oh, I'll come back all right; a man may go through fire itself and return if he has the incentive which I have." His tone altered subtly. Florrie started.</p> <p>"But before I go," went on Galloway, "I am going to tell you something which I think you know already. You do, don't you, Florence?"</p> <p>She would not have been Florrie at all, but some very different, unromantic, and unimaginative creature, had she failed of comprehension. Jim Galloway was actually making love to her!</p> <p>"What do you mean, Mr. Galloway?" she managed to stammer.</p> <p>"I mean that what I am telling you is for your ears alone. I am placing a confidence in you, the greatest confidence a man can place in a girl. Or in a woman, Florence. I am trusting that what I say will remain just between you and me for the present.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. When I come back I will be no longer just Jim Galloway of the Casa Blanca, but Galloway of one of the biggest grants in Mexico, with mile after mile of fertile lands, with a small army of servants, vaqueros, and retainers, a sort of ruler of my own State! It sounds like a fairy-tale, Florence, but it is the sober truth made possible by conditions below the border. My estates will run down to the blue water of the Gulf; I shall have my own fleet of ocean-going yachts; there is a port upon my own land. There will be a home overlooking the sea like a king's palace. Will you think of all that while I am gone? Will you think of me a little, too? Will you remember that my little kingdom is crying out for its queen?&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. No; I am not asking you to answer me now. I am just asking that you hold this as our secret until I come back. Until I come back for you!&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. I shall stand here until you reach your home," he broke off suddenly. "Good night, my dear."</p> <p>"Good night," said Florence faintly, a little dazed by all that he had said to her. Then, running through the shadows to her home, she was thinking of the boy who had wished to propose to her and of the man who had done so; of Elmer's little home upon the knoll surrounded by a cow, a horse, and some pigs&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. and of a big house like a palace looking out to sea across the swaying masts of white-sailed, sea-going yachts!</p> <br/><br/><br/> <SPAN name="chap21"></SPAN> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />