Judge Briscoe was sitting out under the afternoon sky with his chair
tilted back and his feet propped against the steps. His coat was off, and
Minnie sat near at hand sewing a button on the garment for him, and she
wore that dreamy glaze that comes over women's eyes when they sew for
other people.
From the interior of the house rose and fell the murmur of a number of
voices engaged in a conversation, which, for a time, seemed to consist of
dejected monosyllables; but presently the judge and Minnie heard Helen's
voice, clear, soft, and trembling a little with excitement. She talked
only two or three minutes, but what she said stirred up a great commotion.
All the voices burst forth at once in ejaculations--almost shouts; but
presently they were again subdued and still, except for the single soft
one, which held forth more quietly, but with a deeper agitation, than any
of the others.
"You needn't try to bamboozle me," said the judge in a covert tone to his
daughter, and with a glance at the parlor window, whence now issued the
rumble of Warren Smith's basso. "I tell you that girl would follow John
Harkless to Jericho."
Minnie shook her head mysteriously, and bit a thread with a vague frown.
"Well, why not?" asked the judge crossly.
"Why wouldn't she have him, then?"
"Well, who knows he's asked her yet?"
Minnie screamed derisively at the density of man, "What made him run off
that way, the night he was hurt? Why didn't he come back in the house with
her?"
"Pshaw!"
"Don't you suppose a woman understands?"
"Meaning that you know more about it than I do, I presume," grunted the
old gentleman.
"Yes, father," she replied, smiling benignantly upon him.
"Did she tell you?" he asked abruptly.
"No, no. I guess the truth is that women don't know more than men so much
as they see more; they understand more without having to read about it."
"That's the way of it, is it?" he laughed. "Well, it don't make any
difference, she'll have him some time."
"No, father; it's only gratitude."
"Gratitude!" The judge snorted scornfully. "Girls don't do as much as
she's done for him out of gratitude. Look what she's doing; not only
running the 'Herald' for him, but making it a daily, and a good daily at
that. First time I saw her I knew right away she was the smartest girl I
ever laid eyes on;--I expect she must have got it from her mother.
Gratitude! Pooh! Look how she's studied his interests, and watched like a
cat for chances for him in everything. Didn't she get him into Eph Watts's
company? She talked to Watts and the other fellows, day after day, and
drove around their leased land with 'em, and studied it up, and got on the
inside, and made him buy. Now, if they strike it--and she's sure they
will, and I'm sure she knows when to have faith in a thing--why, they'll
sell out to the Standard, and they can all quit work for the rest of their
lives if they want to; and Harkless gets as much as any without lifting a
finger, all because he had a little money--mighty little, too--laid up in
bank and a girl that saw where to put it. She did that for him, didn't
she?"