It chanced that Ridgway, through the swinging door of a department store, caught a glimpse of Miss Balfour as he was striding along the street.He bethought him that it was the hour of luncheon, and that she was no end better company than the revamped noon edition of the morning paper.Wherefore he wheeled into the store and interrupted her inspection of gloves.
"I know the bulliest little French restaurant tucked away in a side street just three blocks from here.The happiness disseminated in this world by that chef's salads will some day carry him past St.Peter with no questions asked.""You believe in salvation by works?" she parried, while she considered his invitation.
"So will you after a trial of Alphonse's salad.""Am I to understand that I am being invited to a theological discussion of a heavenly salad concocted by Father Alphonse?""That is about the specifications."
"Then I accept.For a week my conscience has condemned me for excess of frivolity.You offer me a chance to expiate without discomfort.That is my idea of heaven.I have always believed it a place where one pastures in rich meadows of pleasure, with penalties and consciences all excluded from its domains.""You should start a church," he laughed."It would have a great following--especially if you could operate your heaven this side of the Styx."She found his restaurant all he had claimed, and more.The little corner of old Paris set her eyes shining.The fittings were Parisian to the least detail.Even the waiter spoke no English.
"But I don't see how they make it pay.How did he happen to come here? Are there enough people that appreciate this kind of thing in Mesa to support it?"He smiled at her enthusiasm."Hardly.The place has a scarce dozen of regular patrons.Hobart comes here a good deal.So does Eaton.But it doesn't pay financially.You see, I know because I happen to own it.I used to eat at Alphonse's restaurant in Paris.So I sent for him.It doesn't follow that one has to be less a slave to the artificial comforts of a supercivilized world because one lives at Mesa.""I see it doesn't.You are certainly a wonderful man.""Name anything you like.I'll warrant Alphonse can make good if it is not outside of his national cuisine," he boasted.
She did not try his capacity to the limit, but the oysters, the salad, the chicken soup were delicious, with the ultimate perfection that comes only out of Gaul.
They made a delightfully gay and intimate hour of it, and were still lingering over their demi-tasse when Yesler's name was mentioned.
"Isn't it splendid that he's doing so well?" cried the girl with enthusiasm."The doctor says that if the bullet had gone a fraction of an inch lower, he would have died.Most men would have died anyhow, they say.It was his clean outdoor life and magnificent constitution that saved him.""That's what pulled him through," he nodded."It would have done his heart good to see how many friends he had.His recovery was a continuous performance ovation.It would have been a poorer world for a lot of people if Sam Yesler had crossed the divide.""Yes.It would have been a very much poorer one for several I know."He glanced shrewdly at her."I've learned to look for a particular application when you wear that particularly sapient air of mystery."Her laugh admitted his hit."Well, I was thinking of Laska.I begin to think HER fair prince has come.""Meaning Yesler?"
"Yes.She hasn't found it out herself yet.She only knows she is tremendously interested.""He's a prince all right, though he isn't quite a fairy.The woman that gets him will be lucky.
"The man that gets Laska will be more that lucky," she protestedloyally.
"I dare say," he agreed carelessly."But, then, good women are not so rare as good men.There.are still enough of them left to save the world.But when it comes to men like Sam--well, it would take a Diogenes to find another.""I don't see how even Mr.Pelton, angry as he was, dared shoot him." "He had been drinking hard for a week.That will explain anythingwhen you add it to his, temperament.I never liked the fellow.""I suppose that is why you saved his life when the miners took him and were going to lynch him?""I would not have lifted a hand for him.That's the bald truth.But I couldn't let the boys spoil the moral effect of their victory by so gross a mistake.It would have been playing right into Harley's hands.""Can a man get over being drunk in five minutes? I never saw anybody more sober than Mr.Pelton when the mob were crying for vengeance and you were fighting them back.""A great shock will sober a man.Pelton is an errant coward, and he had pretty good reason to think he had come to the end of the passage.The boys weren't playing.They meant business.""They would not have listened to another man in the world except you," she told him proudly.
