the bohemian girl-第1章

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The　Bohemian　Girl







The　transcontinental　express　swung　along　the　windings　of　the



Sand　River　Valley；　and　in　the　rear　seat　of　the　observation　car　a



young　man　sat　greatly　at　his　ease；　not　in　the　least　discomfited　by



the　fierce　sunlight　which　beat　in　upon　his　brown　face　and　neck　and



strong　back。　　There　was　a　look　of　relaxation　and　of　great　passivity



about　his　broad　shoulders；　which　seemed　almost　too　heavy　until　he



stood　up　and　squared　them。　　He　wore　a　pale　flannel　shirt　and　a　blue



silk　necktie　with　loose　ends。　　His　trousers　were　wide　and　belted　at



the　waist；　and　his　short　sack　coat　hung　open。　　His　heavy　shoes　had



seen　good　service。　　His　reddish…brown　hair；　like　his　clothes；　had



a　foreign　cut。　　He　had　deep…set；　dark　blue　eyes　under　heavy　reddish



eyebrows。　　His　face　was　kept　clean　only　by　close　shaving；　and　even



the　sharpest　razor　left　a　glint　of　yellow　in　the　smooth　brown　of



his　skin。　　His　teeth　and　the　palms　of　his　hands　were　very　white。　



His　head；　which　looked　hard　and　stubborn；　lay　indolently　in　the



green　cushion　of　the　wicker　chair；　and　as　he　looked　out　at　the　ripe



summer　country　a　teasing；　not　unkindly　smile　played　over　his　lips。　



Once；　as　he　basked　thus　comfortably；　a　quick　light　flashed　in　his



eves；　curiously　dilating　the　pupils；　and　his　mouth　became　a　hard；



straight　line；　gradually　relaxing　into　its　former　smile　of　rather



kindly　mockery。　　He　told　himself；　apparently；　that　there　was　no



point　in　getting　excited；　and　he　seemed　a　master　hand　at　taking　his



ease　when　he　could。　　Neither　the　sharp　whistle　of　the　locomotive



nor　the　brakeman's　call　disturbed　him。　　It　was　not　until　after　the



train　had　stopped　that　he　rose；　put　on　a　Panama　hat；　took　from　the



rack　a　small　valise　and　a　flute　case；　and　stepped　deliberately　to



the　station　platform。　　The　baggage　was　already　unloaded；　and　the



stranger　presented　a　check　for　a　battered　sole…leather　steamer



trunk。







〃Can　you　keep　it　here　for　a　day　or　two？〃　he　asked　the　agent。　　〃I



may　send　for　it；　and　I　may　not。〃







〃Depends　on　whether　you　like　the　country；　I　suppose？〃　demanded



the　agent　in　a　challenging　tone。







〃Just　so。〃







The　agent　shrugged　his　shoulders；　looked　scornfully　at　the



small　trunk；　which　was　marked　〃N。E。；〃　and　handed　out　a　claim　check



without　further　comment。　　The　stranger　watched　him　as　he　caught　one



end　of　the　trunk　and　dragged　it　into　the　express　room。　　The　agent's



manner　seemed　to　remind　him　of　something　amusing。　　〃Doesn't　seem　to



be　a　very　big　place；〃　he　remarked；　looking　about。







〃It's　big　enough　for　us；〃　snapped　the　agent；　as　he　banged　the



trunk　into　a　corner。







That　remark；　apparently；　was　what　Nils　Ericson　had　wanted。　　He



chuckled　quietly　as　he　took　a　leather　strap　from　his　pocket　and



swung　his　valise　around　his　shoulder。　　Then　he　settled　his　Panama



securely　on　his　head；　turned　up　his　trousers；　tucked　the　flute　case



under　his　arm；　and　started　off　across　the　fields。　　He　gave　the



town；　as　he　would　have　said；　a　wide　berth；　and　cut　through　a　great



fenced　pasture；　emerging；　when　he　rolled　under　the　barbed　wire　at



the　farther　corner；　upon　a　white　dusty　road　which　ran　straight　up



from　the　river　valley　to　the　high　prairies；　where　the　ripe　wheat



stood　yellow　and　the　tin　roofs　and　weathercocks　were　twinkling　in



the　fierce　sunlight。　　By　the　time　Nils　had　done　three　miles；　the



sun　was　sinking　and　the　farm　wagons　on　their　way　home　from　town



came　rattling　by；　covering　him　with　dust　and　making　him　sneeze。　



When　one　of　the　farmers　pulled　up　and　offered　to　give　him　a　lift；



he　clambered　in　willingly。　　The　driver　was　a　thin；　grizzled　old　man



with　a　long　lean　neck　and　a　foolish　sort　of　beard；　like　a　goat's。　



〃How　fur　ye　goin'？〃　he　asked；　as　he　clucked　to　his　horses　and



started　off。







〃Do　you　go　by　the　Ericson　place？〃







〃Which　Ericson？〃　　The　old　man　drew　in　his　reins　as　if　he　expected



to　stop　again。







〃Preacher　Ericson's。〃







〃Oh；　the　Old　Lady　Ericson's！〃　　He　turned　and　looked　at　Nils。　



〃La；　me！　　If　you're　goin'　out　there　you　might　a'　rid　out　in　the



automobile。　　That's　a　pity；　now。　　The　Old　Lady　Ericson　was　in　town



with　her　auto。　　You　might　'a'　heard　it　snortin'　anywhere　about　the



post…office　er　the　butcher　shop。〃







〃Has　she　a　motor？〃　asked　the　stranger　absently。







〃'Deed　an'　she　has！　　She　runs　into　town　every　night　about　this



time　for　her　mail　and　meat　for　supper。　　Some　folks　say　she's　afraid



her　auto　won't　get　exercise　enough；　but　I　say　that's　jealousy。〃







〃Aren't　there　any　other　motors　about　here？〃







〃Oh；　yes！　we　have　fourteen　in　all。　　But　nobody　else　gets



around　like　the　Old　Lady　Ericson。　　She's　out；　rain　er　shine；　over



the　whole　county；　chargin'　into　town　and　out　amongst　her　farms；　an'



up　to　her　sons'　places。　　Sure　you　ain't　goin'　to　the　wrong　place？〃



He　craned　his　neck　and　looked　at　Nils'　flute　case　with　eager



curiosity。　　〃The　old　woman　ain't　got　any　piany　that　I　knows　on。　



Olaf；　he　has　a　grand。　　His　wife's　musical：　took　lessons　in



Chicago。〃







〃I'm　going　up　there　tomorrow；〃　said　Nils　imperturbably。　　He



saw　that　the　driver　took　him　for　a　piano　tuner。







〃Oh；　I　see！〃　　The　old　man　screwed　up　his　eyes　mysteriously。　　He



was　a　little　dashed　by　the　stranger's　noncommunicativeness；　but　he



soon　broke　out　again。







〃I'm　one　o'　Miss　Ericson's　tenants。　　Look　after　one　of　her



places。　　I　did　own　the　place　myself　once；　but　I　lost　it　a　while



back；　in　the　bad　years　just　after　the　World's　Fair。　　Just　as　well；



too；　I　say。　　Lets　you　out　o'　payin'　taxes。　　The　Ericsons　do　own



most　of　the　county　now。　　I　remember　the　old　preacher's　favorite



text　used　to　be；　'To　them　that　hath　shall　be　given。'　They've　spread



something　wonderfulrun　over　this　here　country　like　bindweed。　　But



I　ain't　one　that　begretches　it　to　'em。　　Folks　is　entitled　to　what



they　kin　git；　and　they're　hustlers。　　Olaf；　he's　in　the　Legislature



now；　and　a　likely　man　fur　Congress。　　Listen；　if　that　ain't　the　old



woman　comin'　now。　　Want　I　should　stop　her？〃







Nils　shook　his　head。　　He　heard　the　deep　chug…chug　of　a　motor



vibrating　steadily　in　the　clear　twilight　behind　them。　　The　pale



lights　of　the　car　swam　over　the　hill；　and　the　old　man　slapped　his



reins　and　turned　clear　out　of　the　road；　ducking　his　head　at



the　first　of　three　angry　snorts　from　behind。　　The　motor　was　running



at　a　hot；　even　speed；　and　passed　without　turning　an　inch　from　its



course。　　The　driver　was　a　stalwart　woman　who　sat　at　ease　in　the



front　seat　and　drove　her　car　bareheaded。　　She　left　a　cloud　of　dust



and　a　trail　of　gasoline　behind　her。　　Her　tenant　threw　back　his　head



and　sneezed。







〃Whew！　　I　sometimes　say　I'd　as　lief　be　before　Mrs。　Ericson



as　behind　her。　　She　does　beat　all！　　Nearly　seventy；　and　never　lets



another　soul　touch　that　car。　　Puts　it　into　commission　herself



every　morning；　and　keeps　it　tuned　up　by　the　hitch…bar　all　day。　　I



never　stop　work　for　a　drink　o'　water　that　I　don't　hear　her　a…



churnin'　up　the　road。　　I　reckon　her　darter…in…laws　never　sets



down　easy　nowadays。　　Never　know　when　she'll　pop　in。　　Mis'　Otto；



she　says　to　me：　'We're　so　afraid　that　thing'll　blow　up　and　do　Ma



some　injury　yet；　she's　so　turrible　venturesome。'　Says　I：　'I



wouldn't　stew；　Mis'　Otto；　the　old　lady'll　drive　that　car　to　the



funeral　of　every　darter…in…law　she's　got。'　That　was　after　the　old



woman　had　jumped　a　turrible　bad　culvert。〃







The　stranger　heard　vaguely　what　the　old　man　was　saying。　



Just　now　he　was　experiencing　something　very　much　like



homesickness；　and　he　was　wondering　what　had　brought　it　about。　



The　mention　of　a　name　or　two；　perhaps；　the　rattle　of　a　wagon



along　a　dusty　road；　the　rank；　resinous　smell　of　sunflowers　and



ironweed；　which　the　night　damp　brought　up　from　the　draws　and　low



places；　perhaps；　more　than　all；　the　dancing　lights　of　the　motor



that　had　plunged　by。　He　squared　his　shoulders　with　a　comfortable



sense　of　strength。







The　wagon；　as　it　jolted　westward；　climbed　a　pretty　steady



up…grade。　　The　country；　receding　from　the　rough　river　valley；



swelled　more　and　more　gently；　as　if　it　had　been　smoothed　out　by



the　wind。　　On　one　of　the　last　of　the　rugged　ridges；　at　the　end　of



a　branch　road；　stood　a　grim　square　house　with　a　tin　roof　and



double　porches。　　Behind　the　house　stretched　a　row　of　broken；



wind…racked　poplars；　and　down　the　hill　slope　to　the　left



straggled　the　sheds　and　stables。　　The　old　man　stopped　his　horses



where　the　Ericsons'　road　branched　across　a　dry　sand　creek　that



wound　about　the　foot　of　the　hill。







〃That's　the　old　lady's　place。　　Want　I　should　drive　in？〃　　〃No；



thank　you。　　I'll　roll　out　here。　　Much　obliged　to　you。　　Good



night。〃







His　passenger　stepped　down　over　the　front　wheel；　and　the　old



man　drove　on　reluctantly；　looking　back　as　if　he　would　like　to　see



how　the　stranger　would　be　received。







As　Nils　was　crossing　the　dry　creek　he　heard　the　restive



tramp　of　a　horse　coming　toward　him　down　the　hill。　　Instantly　he



flashed　out　of　the　road　and　stood　behind　a　thicket　of　wild　plum



bushes　that　grew　in　the　sandy　bed。　　Peering　through　the　dusk；　be



saw　a　light　horse；　under　tight　rein；　descending　the　hill　at　a



sharp　walk。　　The　rider　was　a　slender　womanbarely　visible



against　the　dark　hillsidewearing　an　old…fashioned　derby　hat　and



a　long　riding　skirt。　　She　sat　lightly　in　the　saddle；　with　her



chin　high；　and　seemed　to　be　looking　into　the　distance。　　As　she



passed　the　plum　thicket　her　horse　snuffed　the　air　and　shied。　　She



struck　him；　pulling　him　in　sharply；　with　an　angry　exclamation；



〃Blazne！〃　in　Bohemian。　　Once　in　the　main　road；　she　let　him



out　into　a　lope；　and　they　soon　emerged　upon　the　crest　of　high　land；



where　they　moved　along　the　skyline；　silhouetted　against　the　band



of　faint　colour　that　lingered　in　the　west。　　This　horse　and　rider；



with　their　free；　rhythmical　gallop；　were　the　only　moving　things



to　be　seen　on　the　face　of　the　flat　country。　　They　seemed；　in　the



last　sad　light　of　evening；　not　to　be　there　accidentally；　but　as



an　inevitable　detail　of　the　landscape。







Nils　watched　them　until　they　had　shrunk　to　a　mere　moving



speck　against　the　sky；　then　he　crossed　the　sand　creek　and　climbed



the　hill。　　When　he　reached　the　gate　the　front　of　the　house　was



dark；　but　a　light　was　shining　from　the　side　windows。　　The　pigs