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1The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ranchman, by Charles Alden Seltzer
2
3This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
4almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
5re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
6with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
7
8
9Title: The Ranchman
10
11Author: Charles Alden Seltzer
12
13Illustrator: P. V. E. Ivory
14
15Release Date: August 25, 2011 [EBook #37204]
16
17Language: English
18
19Character set encoding: UTF-8
20
21*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RANCHMAN ***
22
23
24
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26Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed
27Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
28
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30
31
32
33[Illustration: CARRINGTON LAUGHED JEERINGLY. (Page 268)]
34
35
36
37
38 THE
39 RANCHMAN
40
41 BY
42 CHARLES ALDEN SELTZER
43
44 AUTHOR OF
45 THE BOSS OF THE LAZY Y,
46 FIREBRAND TREVISON,
47 THE RANGE BOSS, ETC.
48
49 FRONTISPIECE BY
50 P. V. E. IVORY
51 NEW YORK
52 GROSSET & DUNLAP
53 PUBLISHERS
54
55 Made in the United States of America
56
57
58
59
60 Copyright
61 A. C. McClurg & Co.
62 1919
63
64 Published September, 1919
65
66 _Copyrighted in Great Britain_
67
68
69
70
71 CONTENTS
72
73 CHAPTER PAGE
74 I Concerning Dawes 1
75 II Slick Duds 14
76 III The Serpent Trail 20
77 IV The Hold-Up 26
78 V The Unexpected 36
79 VI A Man Makes Plans 51
80 VII The Shadow of the Past 59
81 VIII Concerning “Squint” 66
82 IX A Man Lies 75
83 X The Frame-Up 86
84 XI “No Fun Fooling Her” 91
85 XII Lifting the Mask 106
86 XIII The Shadow of Trouble 113
87 XIV The Face of a Fighter 128
88 XV Gloom—and Plans 142
89 XVI A Man Becomes a Brute 153
90 XVII The Wrong Ankle 172
91 XVIII The Beast Again 186
92 XIX The Ambush 193
93 XX A Fight to a Finish 200
94 XXI A Man Faces Death 212
95 XXII Looking for Trouble 218
96 XXIII A World-Old Longing 225
97 XXIV A Death Warrant 232
98 XXV Keats Looks for “Squint” 238
99 XXVI Keats Finds “Squint” 245
100 XXVII Besieged 254
101 XXXIII The Fugitive 259
102 XXIX The Captive 264
103 XXX Parsons Has Human Instincts 270
104 XXXI A Rescue 277
105 XXXII Taylor Becomes Riled 284
106 XXXIII Retribution 290
107 XXXIV The Will of the Mob 304
108 XXXV Triumph at Last 315
109
110
111
112
113THE RANCHMAN
114
115
116
117
118CHAPTER I—CONCERNING DAWES
119
120
121The air in the Pullman was hot and, despite the mechanical contrivances
122built into the coach to prevent such a contingency, the dust from the
123right-of-way persisted in filtering through crevices.
124
125Even the electric fans futilely combated the heat; their droning hum
126bespoke terrific revolutions which did not materially lessen the
127discomfort of the occupants of the coach; and the dry, dead dust of the
128desert, the glare of a white-hot sun, the continuing panorama of waste
129land, rolling past the car windows, afforded not one cool vista to
130assuage the torture of travel.
131
132For hours after leaving Kansas City, several of the passengers had
133diligently gazed out of the windows. But when they had passed the vast
134grass plains and had entered the desert, where their eyes met nothing
135but endless stretches of feathery alkali dust, beds of dead lava, and
136clumps of cacti with thorny spire and spatula blade defiantly upthrust
137as though in mockery of all life—the passengers drew the shades and
138settled down in their seats to endure the discomfort of it all.
139
140A _blasé_ tourist forward reclined in one seat and rested his legs on
141another. From under the peak of a cap pulled well down over his eyes he
142smiled cynically at his fellow-passengers, noting the various
143manifestations of their discomfort. The tourist was a transcontinental
144traveler of note and he had few expectations. It amused him to watch
145those who had.
146
147A girl of about twenty, seated midway in the coach to the left of the
148tourist, had been an intent watcher of the desert. With the covert eye
149of the tourist upon her she stiffened, stared sharply out of the window,
150then drew back, shuddering, a queer pallor on her face.
151
152“She’s seen something unpleasant,” mused the tourist. “A heap of
153bleached bones—which would be the skeleton of a steer; or a
154rattlesnake—or most anything. She’s got nerves.”
155
156_One_ passenger in the car had no nerves—of that the tourist was
157convinced. The tourist had observed him closely, and the tourist was a
158judge of men. The nerveless one was a young man who sat in a rear seat
159staring intently out into the inferno of heat and sand, apparently
160absorbed in his thoughts and unaware of any physical discomfort.
161
162“Young—about twenty-seven or twenty-eight—maybe thirty,” mused the
163tourist; “but an old-timer in this country. I wised up to him when he
164got aboard at Kansas City. Been a miner in his time—or a cow-puncher.
165I’d hate to cross him.”
166
167Among the other passengers were two who attracted the attention of the
168tourist. They occupied the seat in front of the young man.
169
170One of the two, who sat nearest the window, was not much older than the
171young man occupying the seat behind him. The tourist guessed his age to
172be around thirty-five or thirty-six. He was big, almost massive, and had
173lived well—as the slightly corpulent stomach revealed. Despite that,
174however, he was in good physical condition, for his cheeks glowed with
175good healthy color under the blue-black sheen of his fresh-shaved beard;
176there was a snapping twinkle in his black eyes, which were penetrating
177and steady; and there was a quiet confidence in his manner which told
178that he knew and appreciated himself. He was handsome in a heavy,
179sensuous fashion, and his coal-black hair, close-cropped and wavy, gave
180him an appearance of virility and importance that demanded a second
181look. The man seated beside him was undersized and ordinary-looking,
182with straight, iron-gray hair and a look of having taken orders all his
183life. The tourist set his age at fifty-five.
184
185The girl was of the type that the tourist admired. He had seen her kind
186in the far corners of the world, on the thronged streets of cosmopolitan
187cities, in isolated sections of the world—the self-reliant, quietly
188confident American girl whose straight-in-the-eye glance always made a
189man feel impelled to respectfully remove his hat.
190
191She was not beautiful, but she was undeniably good-looking. She was
192almost tall, and the ease and grace of her movements sufficed to convey
193to the tourist some conception of the symmetrical lines of her figure.
194If her features had been more regular, the girl would have been plain;
195but there was a slight uptilt to her nose that hinted of piquancy,
196denied by the quiet, steady eyes.
197
198A brown mass of hair, which she had twisted into bulging coils and
199glistening waves, made the tourist wonder over her taste in that
200feminine art.
201
202“She knows what becomes her,” he decided.
203
204He knew the two men seated in front of the young man were traveling with
205her, for he had seen them together, with the older man patting her
206shoulder affectionately. But often she left them with their talk, which
207did not seem to interest her, while she withdrew to a distant seat to
208read or to gaze out of the window.
209
210She had not seemed to notice either the man of colorless personality or
211the young man who occupied the seat behind her friends. If she had
212glanced at them at all it was with that impersonal interest one feels in
213the average traveler one meets anywhere.
214
215But long ago—which, to be strictly accurate, was when he had entered
216the coach at Kansas City—Quinton Taylor had been interested in her. He
217was content, though, to conceal that interest, and not once when she
218chanced to look toward him did she catch him looking at her.
219
220Taylor knew he was no man to excite the interest of women, not even when
221he looked his best. And he knew that in his present raiment he did not
222look his best. He was highly uncomfortable.
223
224For one thing, the white, starched collar he wore irritated him, choked
225him, reddening his face and bulging his eyes. The starched shirt had a
226pernicious habit of tightly sticking to him, the seams chafing his skin.
227
228The ready-made suit he had bought at Kansas City was too small, and he
229could feel his shoulders bulging through the arms of the coat, while the
230trousers—at the hips and the knees—were stretched until he feared the
231cloth would not stand the strain.
232
233The shoes were tight, and the derby hat—he glowered humorously at it in
234the rack above his head and gazed longingly at the suitcase at his feet,
235into which he had crammed the clothing he had discarded and which he had
236replaced at the suggestion of his banker in Kansas City. Cowboy rigging
237was not uncommon to Kansas City, the banker had told him, but
238still—well, if a man was wealthy, and wished to make an impression, it
239might be wise to make the change.
240
241Not in years had Taylor worn civilized clothing, and he was fully
242determined that before reaching his home town he would resume the
243clothing to which he was accustomed—and throw the new duds out of a
244window. He reddened over an imaginary picture of himself descending from
245the train in his newly acquired rigging to endure the humorous comments
246of his friends. Old Ben Mullarky, for instance, would think he had gone
247loco—and would tell him so. Yes, the new clothes were doomed; some
248ragged overland specimen of the genus “hobo” would probably find them
249or, if not, they would clutter up the right-of-way as the sad memento of
250a mistake he had made during a fit of momentary weakness.
251
252As a matter of fact the girl had noticed Taylor. A girl will notice men,
253unconsciously. Sitting at her window even now, she was thinking of him.
254
255She was not aware that she had studied him, or that she had even glanced
256at him. But despite her lack of interest in him she had a picture of him
257in mind, and her thoughts dwelt upon him.
258
259She, too, had been aware that Taylor’s clothes did not fit him. She had
260noticed the bulging shoulders, the tight trousers, the shoes, squeaking
261with newness, when once he had passed through the car to go out upon the
262platform. She had noticed him screwing his neck around in the collar;
263she had seen him hunch his shoulders intolerantly; she had seen that the
264trousers were too short; that he looked like an awkward farmer or
265homesteader abroad on a pleasure trip, and decidedly uncomfortable in
266the unaccustomed attire.
267
268She had giggled to herself, then. For Taylor did make a ridiculous
269figure. But later—when he had reentered the car and she had looked
270fairly, though swiftly, at him as he advanced down the aisle—she had
271seen something about him that had impressed her. And that was what she
272was thinking about now. It was his face, she believed. It was red with
273self-consciousness and embarrassment, but she had seen and noted the
274strength of it—the lean, muscular jaw, the square, projecting chin, the
275firm, well-controlled mouth; the steady, steel-blue eyes, the broad
276forehead. It had seemed to her that he was humorously aware of the
277clothes, but that he was grimly determined to brazen the thing out.
278
279Her mental picture now gave her the entire view of Taylor as he had come
280toward her. And she could see him in a different environment, in cowboy
281regalia, on a horse, perfectly at ease. He made a heroic figure. So real
282was the picture that she caught herself saying: “Clothes _do_ make the
283man!” And then she smiled at her enthusiasm and looked out of the
284window.
285
286Taylor had been thinking of her with the natural curiosity of the man
287who knows he has no chance and is not looking for one. But she had
288impressed him as resembling someone with whom he had been well
289acquainted. For an hour he puzzled his brain in an endeavor to associate
290hers with some face of his recollection, but elusive memory resisted his
291demands on it with the result that he gave it up and leaned back as
292restfully as he could with the consciousness of the physical torture he
293was undergoing.
294
295And then he heard the younger of the two men in front of him speak to
296the other:
297
298“We’ll make things hum in Dawes, once we get hold of the reins.”
299
300“But there will be obstacles, Carrington.”
301
302“Sure! Obstacles! Of course. That will make the thing all the more
303enjoyable.”
304
305There was a ring in Carrington’s voice that struck a chord of sudden
306antagonism in Taylor, a note of cunning that acted upon Taylor
307instantly, as though the man had twanged discord somewhere in his
308nature.
309
310Dawes was Taylor’s home; he had extensive and varied interests there; he
311had been largely responsible for Dawes’s growth and development; he had
312fought for the town and the interests of the town’s citizens against the
313aggressions of the railroad company and a grasping land company that had
314succeeded in clouding the titles to every foot of land owned by Dawes’s
315citizens—his own included.
316
317And he had heard rumors of outside interests that were trying to gain a
318foothold in Dawes. He had paid little attention to these rumors, for he
319knew that capital was always trying to drive wedges that would admit it
320to the golden opportunities afforded by new towns, and he had ascribed
321the rumors to idle gossip, being aware that such things are talked of by
322irresponsibles.
323
324But the words, “Get hold of the reins,” had a sound of craft and
325plotting. And there was something in Carrington’s manner and appearance
326that suggested guile and smooth cunning. Seething with interest, Taylor
327closed his eyes and leaned his head back upon the cushion behind him,
328simulating sleep.
329
330He felt Carrington turn; he could feel the man’s eyes on him, and he
331knew that Carrington was speculating over him.
332
333He heard the other man whisper, though he could not catch the words.
334However, he heard Carrington’s answer:
335
336“Don’t be uneasy—I’m not ‘spilling’ anything. _He_ wouldn’t know the
337difference if I did. A homesteader hitting town for the first time in a
338year, probably. Did you notice him? Lord, what an outfit!”
339
340He laughed discordantly, resuming in a whisper which carried to Taylor:
341
342“As I was saying, we’ll make things hum. The good folks in Dawes don’t
343know it, but we’ve been framing them for quite a spell—been feeding
344them Danforth. You don’t know Danforth, eh? He’s quite a hit with these
345rubes. Knows how to smear the soft stuff over them. He’s what we call a
346‘mixer’ back in Chicago. Been in Dawes for about a year, working in the
347dark. Been going strong during the past few months. Running for mayor
348now—election is today. It’ll be over by the time we get there. He’ll
349win, of course; he wired me it was a cinch. Cost a lot, though, but it’s
350worth it. We’ll own Dawes before we get through!”
351
352It was with an effort that Taylor kept his eyes closed. He heard nothing
353further, for the man’s voice had dropped lower and Taylor could not hear
354it above the roar of the train.
355
356Still, he had heard enough to convince him that Carrington had designs
357on the future welfare of Dawes, and his muscles swelled until the
358tight-fitting coat was in dire danger of bursting.
359
360Danforth he knew slightly. He had always disliked and distrusted the
361man. He remembered Danforth’s public _début_ to the people of Dawes. It
362had been on the occasion of Dawes’s first anniversary and some
363public-spirited citizens had decided upon a celebration. They had
364selected Danforth as the speaker of the day because of his
365eloquence—for Danforth had seized every opportunity to publicly air his
366vigorous voice, and Taylor had been compelled to acknowledge that
367Danforth was a forceful and able speaker.
368
369Thereafter, Danforth’s voice often found the public ear. He was a
370lawyer, and the sign he had erected over the front of the frame building
371adjoining the courthouse was as magnificent as Danforth was eloquent.
372
373But though Taylor had distrusted Danforth, he had found no
374evidence—until now—that the lawyer intended to betray his
375fellow-citizens. Before leaving Dawes the week before he had heard some
376talk, linking Danforth’s name with politics, but he had discredited the
377talk. His own selection had been Neil Norton, and he had asked his
378friends to consider Norton.
379
380Taylor listened intently, with the hope of hearing more of the
381conversation being carried on between the two men in front of him. But
382he heard no more on the subject broached by Carrington. Later, however,
383his eyes still closed, still pretending to be asleep, he saw through
384veiled eyelids the girl rise from her seat and come toward the two men
385in front of him.
386
387For the first time he got a clear, full view of her face and a deep,
388disturbing emotion thrilled him. For now, looking fairly at her, he was
389more than ever convinced that he had seen her before, or that her
390resemblance to someone he had known was more startling than he had
391thought.
392
393Then he heard Carrington speak to her.
394
395“Getting tired, Miss Harlan?” said Carrington. “Well, it will soon be
396ended, now. One more night on the train—and then Dawes.”
397
398The older man laughed, and touched the girl’s arm playfully. “You don’t
399mind it, do you, Marion?”
400
401The older man said more, but Taylor did not hear him. For at his mention
402of the girl’s given name, so soon after Carrington’s pronouncement of
403“Harlan,” Taylor’s eyes popped open, and he sat erect, staring straight
404at the girl.
405
406Whether her gaze had been drawn by his, or whether her woman’s curiosity
407had moved her to look at him, Taylor never knew. But she met his wide
408gaze fairly, and returned his stare with one equally wide. Only, he was
409certain, there was a glint of mocking accusation in her eyes—to remind
410him, he supposed, that she had caught him eavesdropping.
411
412And then she smiled, looking at Carrington.
413
414“One is recompensed for the inconveniences of travel by the interesting
415characters one chances to meet.”
416
417And she found opportunity, with Carrington looking full at her, to throw
418a swift, significant glance at Taylor.
419
420Taylor flushed scarlet. Not, however, because of any embarrassment he
421felt over her words, but because at that instant was borne
422overwhelmingly upon him the knowledge that the girl, and the man,
423Carrington, who accompanied her—even the older man—were persons with
424whom Fate had insisted that he play—or fight. They were to choose. And
425that they had chosen to fight was apparent by the girl’s glance, and by
426Carrington’s words, “We’ll own Dawes before we get through.”
427
428Taylor got up and went to the smoking-room, where he sat for a long
429time, staring out of the window, his eyes on the vast sea of sagebrush
430that stretched before him, his mental vision fixed on an earlier day and
431upon a tragedy that was linked with the three persons in the coach—who
432seemed desirous of antagonizing him.
433
434
435
436
437CHAPTER II—SLICK DUDS
438
439
440After a time Taylor’s lips wreathed into a smile. He searched in his
441pockets—he had transferred all his effects from the clothing in the
442suitcase to his present uncomfortable raiment—and produced a long,
443faded envelope in danger of imminent disintegration.
444
445The smile faded from his lips as he drew out the contents of the
446envelope, and a certain grim pity filled his eyes. He read:
447
448 Squint:
449
450 That rock falling on me has fixed me. There is no use in me trying
451 to fool myself. I’m going out. There’s things a man can’t say, even
452 to a friend like you. So I’m writing this. You won’t read it until
453 after I’m gone, and then you can’t tell me what you think of me for
454 shoving this responsibility on you. But you’ll accept, I know;
455 you’ll do it for me, won’t you?
456
457 I’ve had a lot of trouble—family trouble. It wouldn’t interest you.
458 But it made me come West. Maybe I shouldn’t have come. I don’t know;
459 but it seemed best.
460
461 You’ve been a mighty persevering friend, and I know you from the
462 ground up. You never inquired about my past, but I know you’ve
463 wondered. Once I mentioned my daughter, and I saw you look sharp at
464 me. Yes, there is a daughter. Her name is Marion. There was a wife
465 and her brother, Elam Parsons. But only Marion counts. The others
466 were too selfish and sneaking.
467
468 You won’t be interested in that. But I want Marion taken care of.
469 She was fifteen when I saw her last. She looked just like me; thank
470 God for that! She won’t have any of the characteristics of the
471 others!
472
473 Squint, I want you to take care of her. You’ll find her in Westwood,
474 Illinois. You and me have talked of selling the mine. Sell it; take
475 my share and for it give Marion a half-interest in your ranch, the
476 Arrow. If there is any left, put it in land in Dawes—that town is
477 going to boom. Guard it for her, and marry her, Squint; she’ll make
478 you a good wife. Tell her I want her to marry you; she’ll do it, for
479 she always liked her “dad.”
480
481There was more, but Taylor read no further. He stuffed the envelope into
482a pocket and sat looking out of the window, regarding morosely the
483featureless landscape. After a time he grinned saturninely:
484
485“Looks to me like a long chance, Larry,” he mused. “Considered as a
486marrying proposition she don’t seem to be enthusiastic over me. Now what
487in thunder is she doing out here, and why is that man Carrington with
488her—and where did she pick him up?”
489
490There came no answer to these questions.
491
492Reluctant, after the girl’s mocking smile, to seem to intrude, Taylor
493sat in the smoking-compartment during the long afternoon, until the dusk
494began to descend—until through the curtains of the compartment he
495caught a glimpse of the girl and her companions returning from the
496dining-car. Then, after what he considered a decent interval, he emerged
497from the compartment, went to the diner, ate heartily, and returned to
498the smoking-room.
499
500He had met Larry Harlan about three years before. Harlan had appeared at
501the Arrow one morning, looking for a job. Taylor had hired him, not
502because he needed men, but because he thought Harlan needed work. A
503friendship had developed, and when one day Harlan had told Taylor about
504a mine he had discovered in the Sangre de Christo Mountains, some miles
505southwestward, offering Taylor a half-interest if the latter would help
506him get at the gold, Taylor had agreed.
507
508They had found the mine, worked it, and had taken considerable gold out
509of it, when one day a huge rock had fallen on Harlan. Taylor had done
510what he could, rigging up a drag with which to take Harlan to town and a
511doctor, but Harlan had died before town could be reached.
512
513That had been the extent of Taylor’s friendship for the man. But he had
514followed Harlan’s directions.
515
516Sitting in the smoking-compartment, he again drew out Harlan’s note to
517him and read further:
518
519 Marion will have considerable money, and I don’t want no sneak to
520 get hold of it—like the sneak that got hold of the money my wife
521 had, that I saved. There’s a lot of them around. If Marion is going
522 to fall in love with one of that kind, I’d rather she wouldn’t get
523 what I leave—the man would get it away from her.
524
525 Use your own judgment, and I’ll be satisfied.
526
527It was not difficult for Taylor to divine what had happened to Harlan,
528nor was it difficult to understand that the man’s distrust of other men
529amounted to an obsession. However, Taylor had no choice but to assume
530the trust and no course but to obey Harlan’s wishes in the matter.
531
532Taylor’s trip eastward to Kansas City had been for the purpose of
533attending to his own financial interests, and incidentally to conclude
534the deal for the sale of the mine. He had deposited the money in his own
535name, but he intended—or had intended—after returning to the Arrow to
536make arrangements for his absence, to go to Westwood to find Marion
537Harlan. The presence of the girl on the train and the certain conviction
538that she was bound for Dawes made the trip to Westwood unnecessary.
539
540For Taylor had no doubt that the girl was the daughter of Larry Harlan.
541That troublesome resemblance of hers to someone of his acquaintance
542bothered him no longer, for the girl was the living image of Larry
543Harlan.
544
545Taylor had not anticipated the coming of Carrington into his scheme of
546things. For the first time since Larry Harlan’s letter had come into his
547possession he realized that deep in his heart was a fugitive desire for
548the coming of the girl to the Arrow. He had liked Larry Harlan, and he
549had drawn mental pictures of what the daughter would be like; and,
550though she was not exactly as he had pictured her, she was near enough
551to the ideal he had visualized. He wanted, now more than ever, to
552faithfully fulfil his obligation to Larry Harlan.
553
554The presence of Carrington on the train, coupled with the inference that
555Carrington was a close friend of the girl’s, irritated Taylor. For at
556the first glance he had felt a subtle antagonism for the man. Yet he was
557more disturbed over the mockery in the girl’s eyes when she had looked
558directly at him when she had caught him listening to her talk with
559Carrington and the older man.
560
561Still, Taylor was not the type of man who permits the imminence of
562discord to disturb his mental equanimity, and he grinned into the
563growing darkness of the plains with a grimly humorous twist to his lips
564that promised interesting developments should Carrington oppose him.
565
566When he again looked out of the aperture in the curtains screening the
567smoking-compartment from the aisle he saw the porter pass, carrying
568bedclothing. Later he saw the porter returning, smilingly inspecting a
569bill. After an interval the porter stuck his head through the curtains
570and surveyed him with a flashing grin:
571
572“Is you ready to retiah, boss?” he asked.
573
574A quarter of an hour later Taylor was alone in his berth, gazing at his
575reflection in the glass while he undressed.
576
577“You wouldn’t have the nerve to think she is interested in you, would
578you—you homely son-of-a-gun?” he queried of his reflection. “Why, no,
579she ain’t, of course,” he added; “no woman could be interested in you.
580You’ve been all day looking like a half-baked dude—and no woman is
581interested in dudes!”
582
583Carefully removing the contents of the several pockets of the despised
584wearing apparel in which he had suffered for many days, he got into his
585nightclothes and rang for the porter. When the latter appeared with his
586huge grin, Taylor gave him the offensive clothing, bundled together to
587form a large ball.
588
589“George,” he said seriously, almost solemnly, “I’m tired of being a
590dude. Some day I may decide to be a dude; but not now. Take these duds
591and save them until I ask for them. If you offer them to me before I ask
592for them, I’ll perforate you sure as hell!”
593
594He produced a big Colt pistol from somewhere, and as the weapon glinted
595in the light the porter’s eyes bulged and he backed away, gingerly
596holding the bundle of clothing.
597
598“Yassir, boss—yassir! I shuah won’t mention it till you does, boss!”
599
600When the porter had gone, Taylor grinned into the glass.
601
602“I sure have felt just what I looked,” he said.
603
604Then he got into his berth and dreamed all night of a girl whose mocking
605eyes seemed to say:
606
607“Well, do you think you have profited by listening?”
608
609“Why, sure,” he retorted, in his dreams; “I’ve seen you, ain’t I?”
610
611
612
613
614CHAPTER III—THE SERPENT TRAIL
615
616
617Marion Harlan did not dream of Quinton Taylor, though her last waking
618thought was of him, and when she opened her eyes in the morning it was
619to see him as he had sat in the seat behind Carrington and her uncle,
620his eyes wide with interest, or astonishment—or some emotion that she
621could not define—looking directly at her.
622
623She had been certain then, and still was certain that he had been
624feigning sleep, that he had been listening to the talk carried on
625between her uncle and Carrington.
626
627Why had he listened?
628
629That interrogation absorbed her thoughts as she dressed.
630
631She had not meant to be interested in him, for she had, in her first
632glance at him, mentally decided that he was no more interesting than
633many another ill-dressed and uncouth westerner whom she had seen on the
634journey toward Dawes.
635
636To be sure, she had seen signs of strength in him, mental and physical,
637but that had been when she looked at him coming toward her down the
638aisle. But even then he had not interested her; her interest began when
639she noted his interest in the conversation of her traveling companions.
640And then she had noticed several things about him that had escaped her
641in other glances at him.
642
643For one thing, despite the astonishment in his eyes, she had observed
644the cold keenness of them, the odd squint at the corners, where little
645wrinkles, splaying outward, indicated either deliberate impudence or
646concealed mirth. She was rather inclined to believe it the latter,
647though she would not have been surprised to discover the wrinkles to
648mean the former.
649
650And then she had noted his mouth; his lips had been straight and firm;
651she had been sure they were set resolutely when she had surprised him
652looking at her. That had seemed to indicate that he had taken more than
653a passing interest in what he had overheard.
654
655She speculated long over the incident, finally deciding that much would
656depend upon what he had overheard. There was only one way to determine
657that, and at breakfast in the dining-car she interrogated Carrington.
658
659“Of course, you and uncle are going to Dawes on business, and I am
660merely tagging along to see if I can find any trace of my father. But
661have you any business secrets that might interest an eavesdropper? On a
662train, for instance—a train going toward Dawes?”
663
664“What do you mean?” Carrington’s eyes flashed as he leaned toward her.
665
666“Have you and uncle talked business within hearing distance of a
667stranger?”
668
669Carrington’s face flushed; he exchanged a swift glance with the other
670man.
671
672“You mean that clodhopper with the tight-fitting hand-me-down in the
673seat behind us—yesterday? He was asleep!”
674
675“Then you did talk business—business secrets,” smiled the girl. “I
676thought really big men commonly concealed their business secrets from
677the eager ears of outsiders.”
678
679She laughed aloud at Carrington’s scowl, and then went on:
680
681“I don’t think the clodhopper was asleep. In fact, I rather think he was
682very wide awake. I wouldn’t say for certain, but I _think_ he was awake.
683You see, when I came back to talk with you he was sitting very straight,
684and his eyes were wide open.
685
686“And I shall tell you something else,” she went on. “During all the time
687he sat behind you, when you were talking, I watched him, he was
688pretending to sleep, for at times he opened his eyes and looked at you,
689and I am sure he was not thinking pleasant thoughts. And I don’t believe
690he is a clodhopper. I think he amounts to something; and if you will
691look well at him you will see, too. When he was listening to you there
692was a look in his eyes that made me think of fighting.” And then, after
693a momentary pause, she added slowly, “there isn’t anything wrong about
694the business you are going to transact out here—is there?”
695
696“Wrong?” he laughed. “Oh, no! Business is business.” He leaned forward
697and gazed deliberately into her eyes, his own glowing significantly.
698“You don’t think, with me holding your good opinion—and always hoping
699to better it—that I would do anything to destroy it, Marion?”
700
701The girl’s cheeks were suffused with faint color.
702
703“You are assuming again, Mr. James J. Carrington. I don’t care for your
704subtle speeches. I like you best when you talk frankly; but I am not
705sure that I shall ever like you enough to marry you.”
706
707She smiled at the scowl in his eyes, then looked speculatively at him.
708It should have been apparent to him that she had spoken the truth
709regarding her feeling for him.
710
711The uncle knew she had spoken the truth, for she left them presently,
712and the car door had hardly closed behind her when Carrington said,
713smiling grimly:
714
715“She’s a thoroughbred, Parsons. That’s why I like her. I’ll have her,
716too!”
717
718“Careful,” grinned the other, smoothly. “If she ever discovers what a
719brute you are—” He made a gesture of finality.
720
721“Brute! Bah! Parsons, you make me sick! I’ll take her when I want her!
722Why do you suppose I told her that fairy tale about her father having
723been seen in this locality? To get her out here with me, of
724course—where there isn’t a hell of a lot of law, and a man’s will is
725the only thing that governs him. She won’t have me, eh? Well, we’ll
726see!”
727
728Parsons smirked at the other. “Then you lied about Lawrence Harlan
729having been seen in this country?”
730
731“Sure,” admitted Carrington. “Why not?”
732
733Parsons looked leeringly at Carrington. “Suppose I should tell her?”
734
735Carrington glared at the older man. “You won’t,” he declared. “In the
736first place, you don’t love her as an uncle should because she looks
737like Larry Harlan—and you hated Larry. Suppose I should tell her that
738you were the cause of the trouble between her parents; that you framed
739up on her mother, to get her to leave Larry? Why, you damned, two-faced
740gopher, she’d wither you!”
741
742He grinned at the other and got up, turning, when he reached his feet,
743to see Quinton Taylor, standing beside a chair at the next table, just
744ready to sit down, but delaying to hear the remainder of the
745extraordinary conversation carried on between the two men.
746
747Taylor had donned the garments he had discarded in Kansas City. A blue
748woolen shirt, open at the throat; corduroy trousers, the bottoms stuffed
749into the soft tops of high-heeled boots; a well-filled cartridge-belt,
750sagging at the right hip with the weight of a heavy pistol—and a
751broad-brimmed felt hat, which a smiling waiter held for him—completed
752his attire.
753
754Freshly shaved, his face glowed with the color that betokens perfect
755health; and just now his eyes were also glowing—but with frank disgust
756and dislike.
757
758Carrington flushed darkly and stepped close to Taylor. Carrington’s chin
759was thrust out belligerently; his eyes fairly danced with a rage that he
760could hardly restrain.
761
762“Listening again, eh?” he said hoarsely. “You had your ears trained on
763us yesterday, in the Pullman, and now you are at it again. I’ve a notion
764to knock your damned head off!”
765
766Taylor’s eyelids flickered once, the little wrinkles at the corners of
767his eyes deepening a trifle. But his gaze was steady, and the blue of
768his eyes grew a trifle more steely.
769
770“You’ve got a bigger notion not to, Mr. Man,” he grinned. “You run a
771whole lot to talk.”
772
773He sat down, twisted around in the chair and faced the table, casting a
774humorous eye at the black waiter, and ignoring Carrington.
775
776“I’ll want a passable breakfast this morning, George,” he said; “I’m
777powerful hungry.”
778
779He did not turn when Carrington went out, followed by Parsons.
780
781The waiter hovered near him, grinning widely.
782
783“I reckon you-all ain’t none scary, boss!” he said, admiringly.
784
785
786
787
788CHAPTER IV—THE HOLD-UP
789
790
791After breakfast—leaving a widely grinning waiter, who watched him
792admiringly—Taylor reentered the Pullman.
793
794Stretching out in the upholstered seat, Taylor watched the flying
795landscape. But his thoughts were upon the two men he had overheard
796talking about the girl in the diner. Taylor made a grimace of disgust at
797the great world through which the train was speeding; and his feline
798grin when his thoughts dwelt definitely upon Carrington, indicated that
799the genial waiter had not erred greatly in saying Taylor was not
800“scary.”
801
802Upon entering, Taylor had flashed a rapid glance into the car. He had
803seen Carrington and Parsons sitting together in one of the seats and,
804farther down, the girl, leaning back, was looking out of the window. Her
805back was toward Taylor. She had not seen him enter the car—and he was
806certain she had not seen him leave it to go to the diner. He had
807thought—as he had glanced at her as he went into the smoking
808compartment—that, despite the girl’s seemingly affectionate manner
809toward Parsons, and her cordial treatment of the big man, her manner
810indicated the presence of a certain restraint. And as he looked toward
811her, he wondered if Parsons or the big man had told her anything of the
812conversation in the diner in which he himself figured.
813
814And now, looking out of the window, he decided that even if the men had
815told her, she would not betray her knowledge to him—unless it were to
816give him another scornful glance—the kind she threw at him when she saw
817him as he sat behind the two men when they had been talking of Dawes.
818Taylor reddened and gritted his teeth impotently; for he knew that if
819the two men had told her anything, they would have informed her, merely,
820that they had again caught him listening to them. And for that double
821offense, Taylor knew there would be no pardon from her.
822
823Half an hour later, while still thinking of the girl and the men, Taylor
824felt the train slowing down. Peering as far ahead as he could by
825pressing his face against the glass of the window, Taylor saw the train
826was entering a big cut between some hills. It was a wild section, with a
827heavy growth of timber skirting the hills—on Taylor’s side of the
828train—and running at a sharp angle toward the right-of-way came a small
829river.
830
831Taylor recognized the place as Toban’s Siding. He did not know how the
832spot had come by its name; nor did he know much about it except that
833there was a spur of track and a water-tank. And when the train began to
834slow down he supposed the engineer had decided to stop to take on water.
835He found himself wondering, though, why that should be necessary, for he
836was certain the train had stopped for water a few miles back, while he
837had been in the dining-car.
838
839The train was already late, and Taylor grinned as he settled farther
840back in the seat and drew a sigh of resignation. There was no accounting
841for the whims of an engineer, he supposed.
842
843He felt the train come to a jerking stop; and then fell a silence. An
844instant later the silence was broken by two sharp reports, a distinct
845interval between them. Taylor sat erect, the smile leaving his face, and
846his lips setting grimly as the word “Hold-up” came from between them.
847
848Marion Harlan also heard the two reports. Stories of train
849robberies—recollections of travelers’ tales recurred in her brain as
850she sat, for the first tense instant following the reports, listening
851for other sounds. Her face grew a little pale, and a tremor ran over
852her; but she did not feel a bit like screaming—though in all the
853stories she had ever read, women always yielded to the hysteria of that
854moment in which a train-robber makes his presence known.
855
856She was not frightened, though she was just a trifle nervous, and more
857than a trifle curious. So she pressed her cheek against the window-glass
858and looked forward.
859
860What she saw caused her to draw back again, her curiosity satisfied. For
861on the side of the cut near the engine, she had seen a man with a
862rifle—a masked man, tall and rough-looking—and it seemed to her that
863the weapon in his hands was menacing someone in the engine-cab.
864
865She stiffened, looking quickly around the car. None of the passengers
866had moved. Carrington and Parsons were still sitting together in the
867seat. They were sitting erect, though, and she saw they, too, were
868curious. More, she saw that both men were pale, and that Carrington, the
869instant she turned, became active—bending over, apparently trying to
870hide something under a seat. That movement on Carrington’s part was
871convincing, and the girl drew a deep breath.
872
873While she was debating the wisdom of permitting her curiosity to drive
874her to the door nearest her to determine what had happened, the door
875burst open and a masked man appeared in the opening!
876
877While she stared at him, he uttered the short, terse command:
878
879“Hands up!”
880
881She supposed that meant her, as well as the men in the car, and she
882complied, though with a resentful glare at the mask.
883
884Daringly she turned her head and glanced back. Carrington had his hands
885up, too; and Parsons—and the tourist, and the other man. She did not
886see Taylor—though she wondered, on the instant, if he, too, would obey
887the train-robber’s command.
888
889She decided he would—any other course would have been foolhardy; though
890she could not help remembering that queer gleam in Taylor’s eyes. That
891gleam, it had seemed to her, was a reflection of—not foolhardiness, but
892of sheer courage.
893
894However, she had little time to speculate. The masked man advanced, a
895heavy gun in his right hand, its muzzle moving from side to side,
896menacing them all.
897
898He halted when he had advanced to within a step of the girl.
899
900“You guys set tight!” he ordered gruffly—in the manner of the
901train-robber of romance. “If you go to lettin’ down your sky-hooks one
902little quiver, I bore you so fast an’ plenty that you’ll think you’re a
903colander!” Then he turned the mask toward the girl; she could feel his
904eyes burning through it.
905
906“Shell out, lady!” he commanded.
907
908She stared straight back at the eye-slits in the mask, defiance glinting
909her own eyes.
910
911“I haven’t any money—or anything of value—to give you,” she returned.
912
913“You’ve got a pocketbook there—in your hand!” he said. “Fork it over!”
914He removed his hat, held it in his left hand, and extended it toward
915her. “Toss it in there!”
916
917Hesitatingly, she obeyed, though not without a vindictive satisfaction
918in knowing that he would find little in the purse to compensate him for
919his trouble. She could see his eyes gleam greedily as he still looked at
920her.
921
922“Now that chain an’ locket you’ve got around your neck!” he ordered.
923“Quick!” he added, savagely, as she stiffened and glared at him.
924
925She did as she was bidden, though; for she had no doubt he would kill
926her—at least his manner indicated he would. And so she removed it, held
927it lingering in her hand for an instant, and then tossed it into the
928hat. She gulped as she did so, for the trinket had been given to her by
929her father before he left home to go on that pilgrimage from which he
930had never returned.
931
932“That’s all, eh?” snarled the man. “Well, I ain’t swallowin’ that! I’m
933goin’ to search you!”
934
935She believed she must have screamed at that. She knew she stood up,
936prepared to fight him if he attempted to carry out his threat; and once
937on her feet she looked backward.
938
939Neither Carrington nor Parsons had moved—they were palely silent,
940watching, not offering to interfere. As for that, she knew that any sign
941of interference on the part of her friends would result in their instant
942death. But she did not know what they _should_ do! Something must be
943done, for she could not permit the indignity the man threatened!
944
945Still looking backward, she saw Taylor standing at the end of the
946car—where the partition of the smoking-compartment extended outward. He
947held a gun in each hand. He had heard her scream, and on his face as the
948girl turned toward him, she saw a mirthless grin that made her shiver.
949She believed it must have been her gasp that caused the train-robber to
950look swiftly at Taylor.
951
952Whatever had caused the man to look toward the rear of the car, he saw
953Taylor; and the girl saw him stiffen as his pistol roared in her ears.
954Taylor’s pistols crashed at the same instant—twice—the reports almost
955together. Afterward she could not have told what surprised her the
956most—seeing the man at her side drop his pistol and lurch limply
957against a corner of the seat opposite her, and from there slide gently
958to the floor, grunting; or the spectacle of Taylor, arrayed in cowboy
959garb, emerging from the door of the smoking-compartment, the mirthless
960smile on his face, and his guns—he had used both—blazing forth death
961to the man who had threatened her.
962
963Nor could she—afterward—have related what followed the sudden
964termination of the incident in the car. Salient memories stood out—the
965vivid and tragic recollection of chief incidents that occurred
966immediately; but she could not have even guessed how they happened.
967
968She saw Taylor as he stood for an instant looking down at the man after
969he came running forward to where the other lay; and she saw Taylor leap
970for the front door of the car, vanish through it, and slam it after him.
971
972For an instant after that there was silence, during which she shuddered
973as she tried to keep her gaze from the thing that lay doubled oddly in
974the aisle.
975
976And then she heard more shooting. It came from the direction of the
977engine—the staccato crashing of pistols; the shouts of men, their
978voices raised in anger.
979
980Pressing her cheek against the window-pane, and looking forward toward
981the engine, she saw Taylor. With a gun in each hand, he was running down
982the little level between the track and the steep wall of the cut, toward
983her. She noted that his face still wore the mirthless grin that had been
984on it when he shot the train-robber in the car; though his eyes were
985alight with the lust of battle—that was all too plain—and she
986shivered. For Taylor, having killed one man, and grimly pursuing others,
987seemed to suggest the spirit of this grim, rugged country—the threat of
988death that seemed to linger on every hand.
989
990She saw him snap a shot as he ran, bending far over to send the bullet
991under the car; she heard a pistol crash from the other side of the car;
992and then she saw Taylor go to his knees.
993
994She gasped with horror and held to the window-sill, for she feared
995Taylor had been killed. But almost instantly she saw her error, for
996Taylor was on his hands and knees crawling when she could again
997concentrate her gaze; and she knew he was crawling under the car to
998catch the man who had shot from the other side.
999
1000Then Taylor disappeared, and she did not see him for a time. She heard
1001shots, though; many of them; and then, after a great while, a silence.
1002And during the silence she sat very still, her face white and her lips
1003stiff, waiting.
1004
1005The silence seemed to endure for an age; and then it was broken by the
1006sound of voices, the opening of the door of the car, and the appearance
1007of Taylor and some other men—several members of the train-crew; the
1008express-messenger; the engineer, his right arm hanging limply—and two
1009men, preceding the others, their hands bound, their faces sullen.
1010
1011On Taylor’s face was the grin that had been on it all along. The girl
1012wondered at the man’s marvelous self-control—for certainly during those
1013moments of excitement and danger he must have been aware of the terrible
1014risk he had been running. And then the thought struck her—she had not
1015considered that phase of the situation before—that she _must_ have
1016screamed; that he had heard her, and had emerged from the smoking-room
1017to protect her. She blushed, gratitude and a riot of other emotions
1018overwhelming her, so that she leaned weakly back in the seat, succumbing
1019to the inevitable reaction.
1020
1021She did not look at Taylor again; she did not even see him as he walked
1022toward the rear of the car, followed by the train-crew, and preceded by
1023the two train-robbers he had captured.
1024
1025But as the train-crew passed her, she heard one of them say:
1026
1027“That guy’s a whirlwind with a gun! Didn’t do no hesitatin’, did he?”
1028
1029And again:
1030
1031“Now, what do you suppose would make a guy jump in that way an’ run a
1032chance of gettin’ plugged—plenty? Do you reckon he was just yearnin’
1033fer trouble, or do you reckon they was somethin’ else behind it?”
1034
1035The girl might have answered, but she did not. She sat very still,
1036comparing Carrington with this man who had plunged instantly into a
1037desperate gun-fight to protect her. And she knew that Carrington would
1038not have done as Taylor had done. And had Carrington seen her face just
1039at that moment he would have understood that there was no possibility of
1040him ever achieving the success of which he had dreamed.
1041
1042She heard one of the men say that the two men were to be placed in the
1043baggage-car until they reached Dawes; and then Carrington and Parsons
1044came to where she sat.
1045
1046They talked, but the girl did not hear them, for her thoughts were on
1047the picture Taylor made when he appeared at the door of the
1048smoking-compartment arrayed in his cowboy rigging, the grim smile on his
1049face, his guns flaming death to the man who thought to take advantage of
1050her helplessness.
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055CHAPTER V—THE UNEXPECTED
1056
1057
1058The train pulled out again presently, and the water-tank and the cut
1059were rapidly left in the rear. Taylor returned to the smoking-room and
1060resumed his seat, and while the girl looked out of the window, some men
1061of the train-crew removed the body of the train-robber and obliterated
1062all traces of the fight. And Carrington and Parsons, noting the girl’s
1063abstractedness, again left her to herself.
1064
1065It had been the girl’s first glimpse of a man in cowboy raiment, and, as
1066she reflected, she knew she might have known Taylor was an unusual man.
1067However, she knew it now.
1068
1069Cursory glances at drawings she had seen made her familiar with the
1070type, but the cowboys of those drawings had been magnificently arrayed
1071in leather _chaparajos_, usually fringed with spangles; and with
1072long-roweled spurs; magnificent wide brims—also bespangled, and various
1073other articles of personal adornment, bewildering and awe inspiring.
1074
1075But this man, though undoubtedly a cow-puncher, was minus the
1076magnificent raiment of the drawings. And, paradoxical as it may seem,
1077the absence of any magnificent trappings made _him_ seem magnificent.
1078
1079But she was not so sure that it was the lack of those things that gave
1080her that impression. He did not _bulge_ in his cowboy clothing; it
1081fitted him perfectly. She was sure it was he who gave magnificence to
1082the clothing. Anyway, she was certain he was magnificent, and her eyes
1083glowed. She knew, now that she had seen him in clothing to which he was
1084accustomed, and which he knew how to wear, that she would have been more
1085interested in him yesterday had he appeared before her arrayed as he was
1086at this moment.
1087
1088He had shown himself capable, self-reliant, confident. She would have
1089given him her entire admiration had it not been for the knowledge that
1090she had caught him eavesdropping. That action had almost damned him in
1091her estimation—it would have completely and irrevocably condemned him
1092had it not been for her recollection of the stern, almost savage
1093interest she had seen in his eyes while he had been listening to
1094Carrington and Parsons.
1095
1096She knew because of that expression that Carrington and Parsons had been
1097discussing something in which he took a personal interest. She had not
1098said so much to Carrington, but her instinct told her, warned her, gave
1099her a presentiment of impending trouble. That was what she had meant
1100when she had told Carrington she had seen _fighting_ in Taylor’s eyes.
1101
1102Taylor confined himself to the smoking-compartment. The negro porter,
1103with pleasing memories of generous tips and a grimmer memory to exact
1104his worship, hung around him, eager to serve him, and to engage him in
1105conversation; once he grinningly mentioned the incident of the cast-off
1106clothing of the night before.
1107
1108“I ain’t mentionin’ it, boss—not at all! I ain’t givin’ you them duds
1109till you ast for them. You done took me by s’prise, boss—you shuah did.
1110I might’ near caved when you shoved that gun under ma nose—I shuah did,
1111boss. I don’t want to have nothin’ to do with your gun, boss—I shuah
1112don’t. She’d go ‘pop,’ an’ I wouldn’t be heah no more!
1113
1114“I didn’t reco’nize you in them heathen clo’s you had on yesterday,
1115boss; but I minds you with them duds on. I knows you; you’re ‘Squint’
1116Taylor, of Dawes. I’ve seen you on that big black hoss of yourn, a
1117prancin’ an’ a prancin’ through town—more’n once I’ve seen you. But I
1118didn’t know you in them heathen clo’s yesterday, boss—’deed I didn’t!”
1119
1120Later the porter slipped into the compartment. For a minute or two he
1121fussed around the room, setting things to order, meanwhile chuckling to
1122himself. Occasionally he would cease his activities long enough to slap
1123a knee with the palm of a hand, with which movement he would seem to be
1124convulsed with merriment, and then he would resume work, chuckling
1125audibly.
1126
1127For a time Taylor took no notice of his antics, but they assailed his
1128consciousness presently, and finally he asked:
1129
1130“What’s eating you, George?”
1131
1132The query was evidently just what “George” had been waiting for. For now
1133he turned and looked at Taylor, his face solemn, but a white gleam of
1134mirth in his eyes belying the solemnity.
1135
1136“Tips is comin’ easy for George this mornin’,” he said; “they shuah is.
1137No trouble at all. If a man wants to get tips all he has to be is a
1138dictionary—he, he, he!”
1139
1140“So you’re a dictionary, eh? Well, explain the meaning of this.” And he
1141tossed a silver dollar to the other.
1142
1143The dollar in hand, George tilted his head sidewise at Taylor.
1144
1145“How on earth you know I got somethin’ to tell you?”
1146
1147“How do I know I’ve got two hands?”
1148
1149“By lookin’ at them, boss.”
1150
1151“Well, that’s how I know you’ve got something to tell me—by looking at
1152you.”
1153
1154The porter chuckled. “I reckon it’s worth a dollar to have a young lady
1155interested in you,” he told himself in a confidential voice, without
1156looking at Taylor; “yassir, it’s sure worth a dollar.” He slapped his
1157knee delightedly. “That young lady a heap interested in you, ’pears
1158like. While ago she pens me in a corner of the platform. ‘Porter, who’s
1159that man in the smoking-compartment—that cowboy? What’s his name, an’
1160where does he live?’ I hesitates, ’cause I didn’t want to betray no
1161secrets—an’ scratch my haid. Then she pop half a dollar in my hand, an’
1162I tole her you are Squint Taylor, an’ that you own the Arrow ranch, not
1163far from Dawes. An’ she thank me an’ go away, grinnin’.”
1164
1165“And the young lady, George; do you know her name?”
1166
1167“Them men she’s travelin’ with calls her Marion, boss.”
1168
1169He peered intently at Taylor for signs of interest. He saw no such
1170signs, and after a while, noting that Taylor seemed preoccupied, and was
1171evidently no longer aware of his presence, he slipped out noiselessly.
1172
1173At nine thirty, Taylor, looking out of the car window, noted that the
1174country was growing familiar. Fifteen minutes later the porter stuck his
1175head in between the curtains, saw that Taylor was still absorbed, and
1176withdrew. At nine fifty-five the porter entered the compartment.
1177
1178“We’ll be in Dawes in five minutes, boss,” he said. “I’ve toted your
1179baggage to the door.”
1180
1181The porter withdrew, and a little later Taylor got up and went out into
1182the aisle. At the far end of the car, near the door, he saw Marion
1183Harlan, Parsons, and Carrington.
1184
1185He did not want to meet them again after what had occurred in the diner,
1186and he cast a glance toward the door behind him, hoping that the porter
1187had carried his baggage to that end of the car. But the platform was
1188empty—his suitcase was at the other end.
1189
1190He slipped into a seat on the side of the train that would presently
1191disclose to him a view of Dawes’s depot, and of Dawes itself, leaned an
1192elbow on the window-sill, and waited. Apparently the three persons at
1193the other end of the car paid no attention to him, but glancing sidelong
1194once he saw the girl throw an interested glance at him.
1195
1196And then the air-brakes hissed; he felt the train slowing down, and he
1197got up and walked slowly toward the girl and her companions. At about
1198the same instant she and the others began to move toward the door; so
1199that when the train came to a stop they were on the car platform by the
1200time Taylor reached the door. And by the time he stepped out upon the
1201car platform the girl and her friends were on the station platform,
1202their baggage piled at their feet.
1203
1204Dawes’s depot was merely a roofless platform; and there was no shelter
1205from the glaring white sun that flooded it. The change from the subdued
1206light of the coach to the shimmering, blinding glare of the sun on the
1207wooden planks of the platform affected Taylor’s eyes, and he was forced
1208to look downward as he alighted. And then, not looking up, he went to
1209the baggage-car and pulled his two prisoners out.
1210
1211Looking up as he walked down the platform with the two men, he saw a
1212transformed Dawes.
1213
1214The little, frame station building had been a red, dingy blot beside the
1215glistening rails that paralleled the town. It was now gaily draped with
1216bunting—red, white, and blue—which he recognized as having been used
1217on the occasion of the town’s anniversary celebration.
1218
1219A big American flag topped the ridge of the station; other flags
1220projected from various angles of the frame.
1221
1222Most of the town’s other buildings were replicas of the station in the
1223matter of decorations—festoons of bunting ran here and there from
1224building to building; broad bands of it were stretched across the fronts
1225of other buildings; gay loops of it crossed the street, suspended to
1226form triumphal arches; flags, wreaths of laurel, Japanese lanterns, and
1227other paraphernalia of the decorator’s art were everywhere.
1228
1229Down the street near the Castle Hotel, Taylor saw transparencies, but he
1230could not make out the words on them.
1231
1232He grinned, for certainly the victor of yesterday’s election was
1233outdoing himself.
1234
1235He looked into the face of a man who stood near him on the platform—who
1236answered his grin.
1237
1238“Our new mayor is celebrating in style, eh?” he said.
1239
1240“Right!” declared the man.
1241
1242He was about to ask the man which candidate had been victorious—though
1243he was certain it was Neil Norton—when he saw Marion Harlan, standing a
1244little distance from him, smiling at him.
1245
1246It was a broad, impersonal smile, such as one citizen of a town might
1247exchange with another when both are confronted with the visible
1248evidences of political victory; and Taylor responded to it with one
1249equally impersonal. Whereat the girl’s smile faded, and her gaze, still
1250upon Taylor, became speculative. Its quality told Taylor that he should
1251not presume upon the smile.
1252
1253Taylor had no intention of presuming anything. Not even the porter’s
1254story of the girl’s interest in him had affected him to the extent of
1255fatuous imaginings. A woman’s curiosity, he supposed, had led her to
1256inquire about him. He expected she rarely saw men arrayed as he was—and
1257as he had been arrayed the day before.
1258
1259The girl’s gaze went from Taylor to the street in the immediate vicinity
1260of the station, and for the first time since alighting on the platform
1261Taylor saw a mass of people near him.
1262
1263Looking sharply at them, he saw many faces in the mass that he knew.
1264They all seemed to be looking at him and, with the suddenness of a
1265stroke came to him the consciousness that there was no sound—that
1266silence, deep and unusual, reigned in Dawes. The train, usually merely
1267stopping at the station and then resuming its trip, was still standing
1268motionless behind him. With a sidelong glance he saw the train-crew
1269standing near the steps of the cars, looking at him. The porter and the
1270waiter with whose faces he was familiar, were grinning at him.
1271
1272Taylor felt that his own grin, as he gazed around at the faces that were
1273all turned toward him, was vacuous and foolish. He _felt_ foolish. For
1274he knew something had attracted the attention of all these people to
1275him, and he had not the slightest idea what it was. For an instant he
1276feared that through some mental lapse he had forgotten to remove his
1277“dude” clothing; and he looked down at his trousers and felt of his
1278shirt, to reassure himself. And he gravely and intently looked at his
1279prisoners, wondering if by any chance some practical joker of the town
1280had arranged the train robbery for his special benefit. If that were the
1281explanation it had been grim hoax—for two men had been killed in the
1282fight.
1283
1284Looking up again, he saw that the grins on the faces of the people
1285around him had grown broader—and several loud guffaws of laughter
1286reached his ears. He looked at Marion Harlan, and saw a puzzled
1287expression on her face. Carrington, too, was looking at him, and
1288Parsons, whose smile was a smirk of perplexity.
1289
1290Taylor reddened with embarrassment. A resentment that grew swiftly to an
1291angry intolerance, seized him. He straightened, squared his shoulders,
1292thrust out his chin, and shoving his prisoners before him, took several
1293long strides across the station platform.
1294
1295This movement brought him close to Marion Harlan and her friends, and
1296his further progress was barred by a man who placed a hand against his
1297chest.
1298
1299This man, too, was grinning. He seized Taylor’s shoulders with both
1300hands and looked into his face, the grin on his own broad and expanding.
1301
1302“Welcome home—you old son-of-a-gun!” said the man.
1303
1304His grin was infectious and Taylor answered it, dropping his suitcase
1305and looking the other straight in the eyes.
1306
1307“Norton,” he said, “what in hell is the cause of all this staring at me?
1308Can’t a man leave town for a few days and come back without everybody
1309looking at him as though he were a curiosity?”
1310
1311Norton—a tall, slender, sinewy man with broad shoulders—laughed aloud
1312and deliberately winked at several interested citizens who had followed
1313Taylor’s progress across the platform, and who now stood near him,
1314grinning.
1315
1316“You are a curiosity, man. You’re the first mayor of this man’s town!
1317Lordy,” he said to the surrounding faces, “he hasn’t tumbled to it yet!”
1318
1319The color left Taylor’s face; he stared hard at Norton; he gazed in
1320bewilderment at the faces near him.
1321
1322“Mayor?” he said. “Why, good Lord, man, I wasn’t here yesterday!”
1323
1324“But your friends were!” yelped the delighted Norton. He raised his
1325voice, so that it reached far into the crowd on the street:
1326
1327“He’s sort of fussed up, boys; this honor being conferred on him so
1328sudden; but give him time and he’ll talk your heads off!” He leaned over
1329to Taylor and whispered in his ear.
1330
1331“Grin, man, for God’s sake! Don’t stand there like a wooden man; they’ll
1332think you don’t appreciate it! It’s the first time I ever saw you lose
1333your nerve. Buck up, man; why, they simply swamped Danforth; wiped him
1334clean off the map!”
1335
1336Norton was whispering more into Taylor’s ear, but Taylor could not
1337follow the sequence of it, nor get a coherent meaning out of it. He even
1338doubted that he heard Norton. He straightened, and looked around at the
1339crowd that now was pressing in on him, and for the first time in his
1340life he knew the mental panic and the physical sickness that overtakes
1341the man who for the first time faces an audience whose eyes are focused
1342on him.
1343
1344For a bag of gold as big as the mountains that loomed over the distant
1345southern horizon he could not have said a word to the crowd. But he did
1346succeed in grinning at the faces around him, and at that the crowd
1347yelled.
1348
1349And just before the crowd closed in on him and he began to shake hands
1350with his delighted supporters, he glanced at Marion Harlan. She was
1351looking at him with a certain sober interest, though he was sure that
1352back in her eyes was a sort of humorous malice—which had, however, a
1353softening quality of admiration and, perhaps, gratitude.
1354
1355His gaze went from her to Carrington. The big man was watching him with
1356a veiled sneer which, when he met Taylor’s eyes, grew open and
1357unmistakable.
1358
1359Taylor grinned broadly at him, for now it occurred to him that he would
1360be able to thwart Carrington’s designs of “getting hold of the reins.”
1361His grin at Carrington was a silent challenge, and so the other
1362interpreted it, for his sneer grew positively venomous.
1363
1364The girl caught the exchange of glances between them, for Taylor heard
1365her say to Parsons, just before the noise of the crowd drowned her
1366voice:
1367
1368“Now I _know_ he overheard you!”
1369
1370Meanwhile, the two prisoners were standing near Taylor. Taylor had
1371almost forgotten them. He was reminded of their presence when he saw
1372Keats, the sheriff, standing near him. At just the instant Taylor looked
1373at Keats, the latter was critically watching the prisoners.
1374
1375Keats and Taylor had had many differences of opinion, for the sheriff’s
1376official actions had not merited nor received Taylor’s approval.
1377Taylor’s attitude toward the man had always been that of good-natured
1378banter, despite the disgust he felt for the man. And now, pursuing his
1379customary attitude, Taylor called to him:
1380
1381“Specimens, eh! Picked them up at Toban’s this morning. They yearned to
1382hold up the train. There were four, all together, but we had to put two
1383out of business. I came pretty near forgetting them. If I hadn’t seen
1384you just now, maybe I would have walked right off and left them here.
1385Take them to jail, Keats.”
1386
1387Keats advanced. He met Taylor’s eyes and his lips curved with a sneer:
1388
1389“Pullin’ off a little grand-stand play, eh! Well, it’s a mighty clever
1390idea. First you get elected mayor, an’ then you come in here, draggin’
1391along a couple of mean-lookin’ hombres, an’ say they’ve tried to hold up
1392the train at Toban’s. It sounds mighty fishy to me!”
1393
1394Taylor laughed. He heard a chuckle behind him, and he turned, to see
1395Carrington grinning significantly at Keats. Taylor’s eyes chilled as his
1396gaze went from one man to the other, for the exchange of glances told
1397him that between the men there was a common interest, which would link
1398them together against him. And in the dead silence that followed Keats’s
1399words, Taylor drawled, grinning coldly:
1400
1401“Meaning that I’m a liar, Keats?”
1402
1403His voice was gentle, and his shoulders seemed to droop a little as
1404though in his mind was a desire to placate Keats. But there were men in
1405Dawes who had seen Taylor work his guns, and these held their breath and
1406began to shove backward. That slow, drooping of Taylor’s shoulders was a
1407danger signal, a silent warning that Taylor was ready for action, swift
1408and violent.
1409
1410And faces around Taylor whitened as the man stood there facing Keats,
1411his shoulders drooping still lower, the smile on his face becoming one
1412of cold, grim mockery.
1413
1414The discomfiture of Keats was apparent. Indecision and fear were in the
1415set of his head—bowed a little; and a dread reluctance was in his
1416shifting eyes and the pasty-white color of his face. It was plain that
1417Keats had overplayed; he had not intended to arouse the latent tiger in
1418Taylor; he had meant merely to embarrass him.
1419
1420“Meaning that I’m a liar, Keats?”
1421
1422Again Taylor’s voice was gentle, though this time it carried a subtle
1423taunt.
1424
1425Desperately harried, Keats licked his hot lips and cast a sullen glance
1426around at the crowd. Then his gaze went to Taylor’s face, and he drew a
1427slow breath.
1428
1429“I reckon I wasn’t meanin’ just that,” he said.
1430
1431“Of course,” smiled Taylor; “that’s no way for a sheriff to act. Take
1432them in, Keats,” he added, waving a hand at the prisoners; “it’s been so
1433long since the sheriff of this county arrested a man that the jail’s
1434gettin’ tired, yawning for somebody to get into it.”
1435
1436He turned his back on Keats and looked straight at Carrington:
1437
1438“Have you got any ideas along the sheriff’s line?” he asked.
1439
1440Carrington flushed and his lips went into a sullen pout. He did not
1441speak, merely shaking his head, negatively.
1442
1443Keats’s glance at Taylor was malignant with hate; and Carrington’s
1444sullen, venomous look was not unnoticed by the crowd. Keats stepped
1445forward and seized the two prisoners, hustling them away, muttering
1446profanely.
1447
1448And then Taylor was led away by Norton and a committee of citizens,
1449leaving Carrington, the girl and Parsons alone on the platform.
1450
1451“Looks like we’re going to have trouble lining things up,” remarked
1452Parsons. “Danforth——”
1453
1454“You shut up!” snapped Carrington. “Danforth’s an ass and so are you!”
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459CHAPTER VI—A MAN MAKES PLANS
1460
1461
1462Within an hour after his arrival in Dawes, Carrington was sitting in the
1463big front room of his suite in the Castle Hotel, inspecting the town.
1464
1465A bay window projected over the sidewalk, and from a big leather chair
1466placed almost in the center of the bay between two windows and facing a
1467third, at the front, Carrington had a remarkably good view of the town.
1468
1469Dawes was a thriving center of activity, with reasons for its
1470prosperity. Walking toward the Castle from the railroad station,
1471Carrington had caught a glimpse of the big dam blocking the constricted
1472neck of a wide basin west of the town—and farther westward stretched a
1473vast agricultural section, level as a floor, with a carpet of green
1474slumbering in the white sunlight, and dotted with young trees that
1475seemed almost ready to bear.
1476
1477There were many small buildings on the big level, some tenthouses, and
1478straight through the level was a wide, sparkling stream of water, with
1479other and smaller streams intersecting it. These streams were irrigation
1480ditches, and the moisture in them was giving life to a vast section of
1481country that had previously been arid and dead.
1482
1483But Carrington’s interest had not been so much for the land as for the
1484method of irrigation. To be sure, he had not stopped long to look, but
1485he had comprehended the system at a glance. There were locks and flumes
1486and water-gates, and plenty of water. But the irrigation company had not
1487completed its system. Carrington intended to complete it.
1488
1489Dawes was two years old, and it had the appearance of having been
1490hastily constructed. Its buildings were mostly of frame—even the
1491Castle, large and pretentious, and the town’s aristocrat of hostelries,
1492was of frame. Carrington smiled, for later, when he had got himself
1493established, he intended to introduce an innovation in building
1494material.
1495
1496The courthouse was a frame structure. It was directly across the street
1497from the Castle, and Carrington could look into its windows and see some
1498men at work inside at desks. He had no interest in the post office, for
1499that was of the national government—and yet, perhaps, after a while he
1500might take some interest in that.
1501
1502For Carrington’s vision, though selfish, was broad. A multitude of men
1503of the Carrington type have taken bold positions in the eternal battle
1504for progress, and all have contributed something toward the ultimate
1505ideal. And not all have been scoundrels.
1506
1507Carrington’s vision, however, was blurred by the mote of greed. Dawes
1508was flourishing; he intended to modernize it, but in the process of
1509modernization he intended to be the chief recipient of the material
1510profits.
1511
1512Carrington had washed, shaved himself, and changed his clothes; and as
1513he sat in the big leather chair in the bay, overlooking the street, he
1514looked smooth, sleek, and capable.
1515
1516He had seemed massive in the Pullman, wearing a traveling suit of some
1517light material, and his corpulent waist-line had been somewhat
1518accentuated.
1519
1520The blue serge suit he wore now made a startling change in his
1521appearance. It made his shoulders seem broader; it made the wide,
1522swelling arch of his chest more pronounced, and in inverse ratio it
1523contracted the corpulent waist-line—almost eliminating it.
1524
1525Carrington looked to be what he was—a big, virile, magnetic giant of a
1526man in perfect health.
1527
1528He had not been sitting in the leather chair for more than fifteen
1529minutes when there came a knock on a door behind him.
1530
1531“Come!” he commanded.
1532
1533A tall man entered, closed the door behind him and with hat in hand
1534stood looking at Carrington with a half-smile which might have been
1535slightly diffident, or impudent or defiant—it was puzzling.
1536
1537Carrington had twisted in his chair to get a glimpse of his visitor; he
1538now grunted, resumed his former position and said, gruffly:
1539
1540“Hello, Danforth!”
1541
1542Danforth stepped over to the bay, and without invitation drew up a chair
1543and seated himself near Carrington.
1544
1545Danforth was slender, big-framed, and sinewy. His shoulders were broad
1546and his waist slim. There was a stubborn thrust to his chin; his nose
1547was a trifle too long to perfectly fit his face; his mouth a little too
1548big, and the lips too thin. The nose had a slight droop that made one
1549think of selfishness and greed, and the thin lips, with a downward
1550swerve at the corners, suggested cruelty.
1551
1552These defects, however, were not prominent, for they were offset by a
1553really distinguished head with a mass of short, curly hair that ruffled
1554attractively under the brim of the felt hat he wore.
1555
1556The hat was in his right hand, now, but it had left its impress on his
1557hair, and as he sat down he ran his free hand through it. Danforth knew
1558where his attractions were.
1559
1560He grinned shallowly at Carrington when the latter turned and looked at
1561him.
1562
1563He cleared his throat. “I suppose you’ve heard about it?”
1564
1565“I couldn’t help hearing.” Carrington scowled at the other. “What in
1566hell was wrong? We send you out here, give you more than a year’s time
1567and all the money you want—which has been plenty—and then you lose.
1568What in the devil was the matter?”
1569
1570“Too much Taylor,” smirked the other.
1571
1572“But what else?”
1573
1574“Nothing else—just Taylor.”
1575
1576Carrington exclaimed profanely.
1577
1578“Why, the man didn’t even know he was a candidate! He was on the train I
1579came in on!”
1580
1581“It was Neil Norton’s scheme,” explained Danforth. “I had _him_ beaten
1582to a frazzle. I suppose he knew it. Two days before election he suddenly
1583withdrew his name and substituted Taylor’s. You know what happened. He
1584licked me two to one. He was too popular for me—damn him!
1585
1586“Norton owns a newspaper here—the only one in the county—the _Eagle_.”
1587
1588“Why didn’t you buy him?”
1589
1590Danforth grinned sarcastically: “I didn’t feel that reckless.”
1591
1592“Honest, eh?”
1593
1594Carrington rested his chin in the palm of his right hand and scowled
1595into the street. He was convinced that Danforth had done everything he
1596could to win the election, and he was bitterly chagrined over the
1597result. But that result was not the dominating thought in his mind. He
1598kept seeing Taylor as the latter had stood on the station platform,
1599stunned with surprise over the knowledge that he had been so signally
1600honored by the people of Dawes.
1601
1602And Carrington had seen Marion Harlan’s glances at the man; he had been
1603aware of the admiring smile she had given Taylor; and bitter passion
1604gripped Carrington at the recollection of the smile.
1605
1606More—he had seen Taylor’s face when the girl had smiled. The smile had
1607thrilled Taylor—it had held promise for him, and Carrington knew it.
1608
1609Carrington continued to stare out into the street. Danforth watched him
1610furtively, in silence.
1611
1612At last, not opening his lips, Carrington spoke:
1613
1614“Tell me about this man, Taylor.”
1615
1616“Taylor owns the Arrow ranch, in the basin south of here. His ranch
1617covers about twenty thousand acres. He has a clear title.
1618
1619“According to report, he employs about thirty men. They are holy
1620terrors—that is, they are what is called ‘hard cases,’ though they are
1621not outlaws by any means. Just a devil-may-care bunch that raises hell
1622when it strikes town. They swear by Taylor.”
1623
1624So far as Carrington could see, everybody in Dawes swore by Taylor.
1625Carrington grimaced.
1626
1627“That isn’t what I want to know,” he flared. “How long has he been here;
1628what kind of a fellow is he?”
1629
1630“Taylor owned the Arrow before Dawes was founded. When the railroad came
1631through it brought with it some land-sharks that tried to frame up on
1632the ranch-owners in the vicinity. It was a slick scheme, they tell me.
1633They had clouded every title, and figured to grab the whole county, it
1634seems.
1635
1636“Taylor went after them. People I’ve talked with here say it was a dandy
1637shindy while it lasted. The land-grabbers brought the courts in, and a
1638crooked judge. Taylor fought them, crooked judge and all, to a
1639bite-the-dust finish. Toward the end it was a free-for-all—and the
1640land-grabbers were chased out of the county.
1641
1642“Naturally, the folks around here think a lot of Taylor for the part he
1643played in the deal. Besides that, he’s a man that makes friends
1644quickly—and holds them.”
1645
1646“Has Taylor any interests besides his ranch?”
1647
1648“A share in the water company, I believe. He owns some land in town; and
1649he is usually on all the public committees here.”
1650
1651“About thirty, isn’t he?”
1652
1653“Twenty-eight.”
1654
1655Carrington looked at the other with a sidelong, sneering grin:
1656
1657“Have any ladies come into his young life?”
1658
1659Danforth snickered. “You’ve got me—I hadn’t inquired. He doesn’t seem
1660to be much of a ladies’ man, though, I take it. Doesn’t seem to have
1661time to monkey with them.”
1662
1663“H-m!” Carrington’s lips went into a pout as he stared straight ahead of
1664him.
1665
1666Danforth at last broke a long silence with:
1667
1668“Well, we got licked, all right. What’s going to happen now? Are you
1669going to quit?”
1670
1671“Quit?” Carrington snapped the word at the other, his eyes flaming with
1672rage. Then he laughed, mirthlessly, resuming: “This defeat was
1673unexpected; I wasn’t set for it. But it won’t alter things—very much.
1674I’ll have to shake a leg, that’s all. What time does the next train
1675leave here for the capital?”
1676
1677“At two o’clock this afternoon.” Danforth’s eyes widened as he looked at
1678Carrington. The curiosity in his glance caused Carrington to laugh
1679shortly.
1680
1681“You don’t mean that the governor is in this thing?” said Danforth.
1682
1683“Why not?” demanded Carrington. “Bah! Do you think I came in with my
1684eyes closed!”
1685
1686There was a new light in Danforth’s eyes—the flame of renewed hope.
1687
1688“Then we’ve still got a chance,” he declared.
1689
1690Carrington laughed. “A too-popular mayor is not a good thing for a
1691town,” he said significantly.
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696CHAPTER VII—THE SHADOW OF THE PAST
1697
1698
1699Marion Harlan and her uncle, Elam Parsons, did not accompany Carrington
1700to the Castle Hotel. By telegraph, through Danforth, Carrington had
1701bought a house near Dawes, and shortly after Quinton Taylor left the
1702station platform accompanied by his friends and admirers, Marion and her
1703uncle were in a buckboard riding toward the place that, henceforth, was
1704to be their home.
1705
1706For that question had been settled before the party left Westwood.
1707Parsons had declared his future activities were to be centered in Dawes,
1708that he had no further interests to keep him in Westwood, and that he
1709intended to make his home in Dawes.
1710
1711Certainly Marion had few interests in the town that had been the scene
1712of the domestic tragedy that had left her parentless. She was glad to
1713get away. For though she had not been to blame for what had happened,
1714she was painfully conscious of the stares that followed her everywhere,
1715and aware of the morbid curiosity with which her neighbors regarded her.
1716Also—through the medium of certain of her “friends,” she had become
1717cognizant of speculative whisperings, such as: “To think of being
1718brought up like that? Do you think she will be like her mother?”
1719Or—“What’s bred in the bone, _et cetera_.”
1720
1721Perhaps these good people did not mean to be unkind; certainly the
1722crimson stains that colored the girl’s cheeks when she passed them
1723should have won their charity and their silence.
1724
1725There was nothing in Westwood for her; and so she was glad to get away.
1726And the trip westward toward Dawes opened a new vista of life to her.
1727She was leaving the old and the tragic and adventuring into the new and
1728promising, where she could face life without the onus of a shame that
1729had not been hers.
1730
1731Before she was half way to Dawes she had forgotten Westwood and its
1732wagging tongues. She alone, of all the passengers in the Pullman, had
1733not been aware of the heat and the discomfort. She had loved every foot
1734of the great prairie land that, green and beautiful, had flashed past
1735the car window; she had gazed with eager, interested eyes into the far
1736reaches of the desert through which she had passed, filling her soul
1737with the mystic beauty of this new world, reveling in its vastness and
1738in the atmosphere of calm that seemed to engulf it.
1739
1740Dawes had not disappointed her; on the contrary, she loved it at first
1741sight. For though Dawes was new and crude, it looked rugged and
1742honest—and rather too busy to hesitate for the purpose of indulging in
1743gossip—idle or otherwise. Dawes, she was certain, was occupying itself
1744with progress—a thing that, long since, Westwood had forgotten.
1745
1746Five minutes after she had entered the buckboard, the spirit of this new
1747world had seized upon the girl and she was athrob and atingle with the
1748joy of it. It filled her veins; it made her cheeks flame and her eyes
1749dance. And the strange aroma—the pungent breath of the sage, borne to
1750her on the slight breeze—she drew into her lungs with great long
1751breaths that seemed to intoxicate her.
1752
1753“Oh,” she exclaimed delightedly, “isn’t it great! Oh, I love it!”
1754
1755Elam Parsons grinned at her—the habitual smirk with which he recognized
1756all emotion not his own.
1757
1758“It _does_ look like a good field for business,” he conceded.
1759
1760The girl looked at him quickly, divined the sordidness of his thoughts,
1761and puckered her brows in a frown. And thereafter she enjoyed the
1762esthetic beauties of her world without seeking confirmation from her
1763uncle.
1764
1765Her delight grew as the journey to the new home progressed. She saw the
1766fertile farming country stretching far in the big section of country
1767beyond the water-filled basin; her eyes glowed as the irrigation
1768ditches, with their locks and gates, came under her observation; and she
1769sat silent, awed by the mightiness of it all—the tall, majestic
1770mountains looming somberly many miles distant behind a glowing
1771mist—like a rose veil or a gauze curtain lowered to partly conceal the
1772mystic beauty of them.
1773
1774Intervening were hills and flats and draws and valleys, and miles and
1775miles of level grass land, green and peaceful in the shimmering sunlight
1776that came from somewhere near the center of the big, pale-blue inverted
1777bowl of sky; she caught the silvery glitter of a river that wound its
1778way through the country like a monstrous serpent; she saw dark blotches,
1779miles long, which she knew were forests, for she could see the spires of
1780trees thrusting upward. But from where she rode the trees seemed to be
1781no larger than bushes.
1782
1783Looking backward, she could see Dawes. Already the buckboard had
1784traveled two or three miles, but the town seemed near, and she had quite
1785a shock when she looked back at it and saw the buildings, mere huddled
1786shanties, spoiling the beauty of her picture.
1787
1788A mile or so farther—four miles altogether, Parsons told her—and they
1789came in sight of a house. She had difficulty restraining her delight
1790when they climbed out of the buckboard and Parsons told her the place
1791was to be their permanent home. For it was such a house as she had
1792longed to live in all the days of her life.
1793
1794The first impression it gave her was that of spaciousness. For though
1795only one story in height, the house contained many rooms. Those,
1796however, she saw later.
1797
1798The exterior was what intrigued her interest at first glance. So far as
1799she knew, it was the only brick building in the country. She had seen
1800none such in Dawes.
1801
1802There was a big porch across the front; the windows were large; there
1803were vines and plants thriving in the shade from some big cottonwood
1804trees near by—in fact, the house seemed to have been built in a grove
1805of the giant trees; there were several outhouses, one of which had
1806chickens in an enclosure near it; there was a garden, well-kept; and the
1807girl saw that back of the house ran a little stream which flowed sharply
1808downward, later to tumble into the big basin far below the irrigation
1809dam.
1810
1811While Parsons was superintending the unloading of the buckboard, Marion
1812explored the house. It was completely furnished, and her eyes glowed
1813with pleasure as she inspected it. And when Parsons and the driver were
1814carrying the baggage in she was outside the house, standing at the edge
1815of a butte whose precipitous walls descended sharply to the floor of the
1816irrigation basin, two or three hundred feet below. She could no longer
1817see the cultivated level, with its irrigation ditches, but she could see
1818the big dam, a mile or so up the valley toward Dawes, with the water
1819creeping over it, and the big valley itself, slumbering in the pure,
1820white light of the morning.
1821
1822She went inside, slightly awed, and Parsons, noting her excitement,
1823smirked at her. She left him and went to her room. Emerging later she
1824discovered that Parsons was not in the house. She saw him, however, at a
1825distance, looking out into the valley.
1826
1827And then, in the kitchen, Marion came upon the housekeeper, a negro
1828woman of uncertain age. Parsons had not told her there was to be a
1829housekeeper.
1830
1831The negro woman grinned broadly at her astonishment.
1832
1833“Lawsey, ma’am; you jes’ got to have a housekeeper, I reckon! How you
1834ever git along without a housekeeper? You’re too fine an’ dainty to keep
1835house you’self!”
1836
1837The woman’s name, the latter told her, was Martha, and there was honest
1838delight—and, it seemed to Marion, downright relief in her eyes when she
1839looked at the new mistress.
1840
1841“You ain’t got no ‘past,’ that’s certain, honey,” she declared, with a
1842delighted smile. “The woman that lived here befo’ had a past, honey. A
1843man named Huggins lived in this house, an’ she said she’s his wife.
1844Wife! Lawsey! No man has a wife like that! She had a past, that woman,
1845an’ mebbe a present, too—he, he, he!
1846
1847“He was the man what put the railroad through here, honey. I done hear
1848the woman say—her name was Blanche, honey—that Huggins was one of them
1849ultra rich. But whatever it was that ailed him, honey, didn’t help his
1850looks none. Pig-eye, I used to call him, when I’se mad at him—which was
1851mostly all the time—he, he, he!”
1852
1853The girl’s face whitened. Was she never to escape the atmosphere she
1854loathed? She shuddered and Martha patted her sympathetically on the
1855shoulder.
1856
1857“There, there, honey; you ain’t ’sponsible for other folks’ affairs.
1858Jes’ you hold you’ head up an’ go about you’ business. Nobody say
1859anything to you because you’ livin’ here.”
1860
1861But Martha’s words neither comforted nor consoled the girl. She went
1862again to her room and sat for a long time, looking out of a window. For
1863now all the cheer had gone out of the house; the rooms looked dull and
1864dreary—and empty, as of something gone out of them.
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869CHAPTER VIII—CONCERNING “SQUINT”
1870
1871
1872Marion Harlan had responded eagerly to Carrington’s fabrication
1873regarding the rumor of Lawrence Harlan’s presence in Dawes. Carrington’s
1874reference to her father’s sojourn in the town had been vague—he merely
1875told her that a rumor had reached him—a man’s word, without
1876details—and she had accepted it at its face value. She was impatient to
1877run the rumor down, to personally satisfy herself, and she believed
1878Carrington.
1879
1880But she spent a fruitless week interrogating people in Dawes. She had
1881gone to the courthouse, there to pass long hours searching the
1882records—and had found nothing. Then, systematically, she had gone from
1883store to store—making small purchases and quizzing everyone she came in
1884contact with. None had known a man named Harlan; it seemed that not one
1885person in Dawes had ever heard of him.
1886
1887Parsons had returned to town in the buckboard shortly after noon on the
1888day of their arrival at the new house, and she had not seen him again
1889until the following morning. Then he had told her that Carrington had
1890gone away—he did not know where. Carrington would not return for a week
1891or two, he inferred.
1892
1893Parsons had bought some horses. A little bay, short-coupled but wiry,
1894belonged to her, Parsons said—it was a present from Carrington.
1895
1896She hesitated to accept the horse; but the little animal won her regard
1897by his affectionate mannerisms, and at the end of a day of doubt and
1898indecision she accepted him.
1899
1900She had ridden horses in Westwood—bareback when no one had been
1901looking, and with a side-saddle at other times—but she discovered no
1902side-saddle in Dawes. However, she did encounter no difficulty in
1903unearthing a riding-habit with a divided skirt, and though she got into
1904that with a pulse of trepidation and embarrassment, she soon discovered
1905it to be most comfortable and convenient.
1906
1907And Dawes did not stare at her because she rode “straddle.” At first she
1908was fearful, and watched Dawes’s citizens furtively; but when she saw
1909that she attracted no attention other than would be attracted by any
1910good-looking young woman in more conventional attire, she felt more at
1911ease. But she could not help thinking about the sanctimonious
1912inhabitants of Westwood. Would they not have declared their kindly
1913predictions vindicated had they been permitted to see her? She could
1914almost hear the chorus of “I-told-you-so’s”—they rang in her ears over
1915a distance of many hundreds of miles!
1916
1917But the spirit of the young, unfettered country had got into her soul,
1918and she went her way unmindful of Westwood’s opinions.
1919
1920For three days she continued her search for tidings of her father, eager
1921and hopeful; and then for the remainder of the week she did her
1922searching mechanically, doggedly, with a presentiment of failure to
1923harass her.
1924
1925And then one morning, when she was standing beside her horse near the
1926stable door, ready to mount and fully determined to pursue the
1927Carrington rumor to the end, the word she sought was brought to her.
1928
1929She saw a horseman coming toward her from the direction of Dawes. He was
1930not Parsons—for the rider was short and broad; and besides, Parsons was
1931spending most of his time in Dawes.
1932
1933The girl watched the rider, assured, as he came nearer, that he was a
1934stranger; and when he turned his horse toward her, and she saw he _was_
1935a stranger, she leaned close and whispered to her own animal:
1936
1937“Oh, Billy; what if it _should_ be!”
1938
1939An instant later she was watching the stranger dismount within a few
1940feet of where she was standing.
1941
1942He was short and stocky, and undeniably Irish. He was far past middle
1943age, as his gray hair and seamed wrinkles of his face indicated; but
1944there was the light of a youthful spirit and good-nature in his eyes
1945that squinted at the girl with a quizzical interest.
1946
1947With the bridle-rein in the crook of his elbow and his hat in his hand,
1948he bowed elaborately to the girl.
1949
1950“Would ye be Miss Harlan, ma’am?” he asked.
1951
1952“Yes,” she breathed, her face alight with eagerness, for now since the
1953man had spoken her name the presentiment of news grew stronger.
1954
1955The man’s face flashed into a wide, delighted grin and he reached out a
1956hand, into which she placed one of hers, hardly knowing that she did it.
1957
1958“Me name’s Ben Mullarky, ma’am. I’ve got a little shack down on the
1959Rabbit-Ear—which is a crick, for all the name some locoed ignoramus
1960give it. You c’ud see the shack from here, ma’am—if ye’d look sharp.”
1961
1962He pointed out a spot to her—a wooded section far out in the big level
1963country southward, beside the river—and she saw the roof of a building
1964near the edge of the timber.
1965
1966“That’s me shack,” offered Mullarky. “Me ol’ woman an’ meself owns
1967her—an’ a quarter-section—all proved. We call it seven miles from the
1968shack to Dawes. That’d make it about three from here.”
1969
1970“Yes, yes,” said the girl eagerly.
1971
1972He grinned at her. “Comin’ in to town this mornin’ for some knickknacks
1973for me ol’ woman, I hear from Coleman—who keeps a store—that there’s a
1974fine-lookin’ girl named Harlan searchin’ the country for news of her
1975father, Larry Harlan. I knowed him, ma’am.”
1976
1977“You did? Oh, how wonderful!” She stood erect, breathing fast, her eyes
1978glowing with mingled joy and impatience. She had not caught the
1979significance of Mullarky’s picturesque past tense, “knowed;” but when he
1980repeated it, with just a slight emphasis:
1981
1982“I _knowed_ him, ma’am,” she drew a quick, full breath and her face
1983whitened.
1984
1985“You knew him,” she said slowly. “Does that mean——”
1986
1987Mullarky scratched his head and looked downward, not meeting her eyes.
1988
1989“Squint Taylor would tell you the story, ma’am,” he said. “You see,
1990ma’am, he worked for Squint, an’ Squint was with him when it happened.”
1991
1992“He’s dead, then?” She stood rigid, tense, searching Mullarky’s face
1993with wide, dreading eyes, and when she saw his gaze shift under hers she
1994drew a deep sigh and leaned against Billy, covering her face with her
1995hands.
1996
1997Mullarky did not attempt to disturb her; he stood, looking glumly at
1998her, reproaching himself for his awkwardness in breaking the news to
1999her.
2000
2001It was some minutes before she faced him again, and then she was pale
2002and composed, except for the haunting sadness that had come into her
2003eyes.
2004
2005“Thank you,” she said. “Can you tell me where I can find Mr.
2006Taylor—‘Squint,’ you called him? Is that the Taylor who was elected
2007mayor—last week?”
2008
2009“The same, ma’am.” He turned and pointed southward, into the big, level
2010country that she admired so much.
2011
2012“Do you see that big timber grove ’way off there—where the crick
2013doubles to the north—with that big green patch beyond?” She nodded.
2014“That’s Taylor’s ranch—the Arrow. You’ll find him there. He’s a mighty
2015fine man, ma’am. Larry Harlan would tell you that if he was here. Taylor
2016was the best friend that Larry Harlan ever had—out here.” He looked at
2017her pityingly. “I’m sorry, ma’am, to be the bearer of ill news; but when
2018I heard you was in town, lookin’ for your father, I couldn’t help comin’
2019to see you.”
2020
2021She asked some questions about her father—which Mullarky answered;
2022though he could tell her nothing that would acquaint her with the
2023details of her father’s life between the time he had left Westwood and
2024the day of his appearance in this section of the world.
2025
2026“Mebbe Taylor will know, ma’am,” he repeated again and again. And then,
2027when she thanked him once more and mounted her horse, he said:
2028
2029“You’ll be goin’ to see Squint right away, ma’am, I suppose. You can
2030ease your horse right down the slope, here, an’ strike the level. You’ll
2031find a trail right down there. You’ll follow it along the crick, an’
2032it’ll take you into the Arrow ranchhouse. It’ll take you past me own
2033shack, too; an’ if you’ll stop in an’ tell the ol’ woman who you are,
2034she’ll be tickled to give you a snack an’ a cup of tea. She liked Larry
2035herself.”
2036
2037The girl watched Mullarky ride away. He turned in the saddle, at
2038intervals, to grin at her.
2039
2040Then, when Mullarky had gone she leaned against Billy and stood for a
2041long time, her shoulders quivering.
2042
2043At last, though, she mounted the little animal and sent him down the
2044slope.
2045
2046She found the trail about which Mullarky had spoken, and rode it
2047steadily; though she saw little of the wild, virgin country through
2048which she passed, because her brimming eyes blurred it all.
2049
2050She came at last to Mullarky’s shack, and a stout, motherly woman, with
2051an ample bosom and a kindly face, welcomed her.
2052
2053“So you’re Larry Harlan’s daughter,” said Mrs. Mullarky, when her
2054insistence had brought the girl inside the cabin; “you poor darlin’. An’
2055Ben told you—the blunderin’ idiot. He’ll have a piece of my mind when
2056he comes back! An’ you’re stoppin’ at the old Huggins house, eh?” She
2057looked sharply at the girl, and the latter’s face reddened. Whereat Mrs.
2058Mullarky patted her shoulder and murmured:
2059
2060“It ain’t your fault that there’s indacint women in the world; an’ no
2061taint of them will ever reach you. But the fools in this world is always
2062waggin’ their tongues, associatin’ what’s happened with what they think
2063will happen. An’ mebbe they’ll wonder about you. It’s your uncle that’s
2064there with you, you say? Well, then, don’t you worry. You run right
2065along to see Squint Taylor, now, an’ find out what he knows about your
2066father. Taylor’s a mighty fine man, darlin’.”
2067
2068And so Marion went on her way again, grateful for Mrs. Mullarky’s
2069kindness, but depressed over the knowledge that the atmosphere of
2070suspicion, which had enveloped her in Westwood, had followed her into
2071this new country which, she had hoped, would have been more friendly.
2072
2073She came in sight of the Arrow ranchhouse presently, and gazed at it
2074admiringly. It was a big building, of adobe brick, with a wide porch—or
2075gallery—entirely surrounding it. It was in the center of a big space,
2076with timber flanking it on three sides, and at the north was a green
2077stretch of level that reached to the sloping banks of a river.
2078
2079There were several smaller buildings; a big, fenced enclosure—the
2080corrals, she supposed; a pasture, and a garden. Everything was in
2081perfect order, and had it not been for the aroma of the sage that
2082assailed her nostrils, the awe-inspiring bigness of it all, the sight of
2083thousands of cattle—which she could see through the trees beyond the
2084clearing, she could have likened the place to a big eastern farmhouse of
2085the better class, isolated and prosperous.
2086
2087She dismounted from her horse at a corner of the house, near a door that
2088opened upon the wide porch, and stood, pale and hesitant, looking at the
2089door, which was closed.
2090
2091And as she stared at the door, it swung inward and Quinton Taylor
2092appeared in the opening.
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097CHAPTER IX—A MAN LIES
2098
2099
2100Taylor was arrayed as Marion had mentally pictured him that day when, in
2101the Pullman, she had associated him with ranches and ranges. Evidently
2102he was ready to ride, for leather chaps incased his legs. The chaps were
2103plain, not even adorned with the spangles of the drawings she had seen;
2104and they were well-worn and shiny in spots. A pair of big, Mexican spurs
2105were on the heels of his boots; the inevitable cartridge-belt about his
2106middle, sagging with the heavy pistol; a quirt dangled from his left
2107hand. Assuredly he belonged in this environment—he even seemed to
2108dominate it.
2109
2110She had wondered how he would greet her; but his greeting was not at all
2111what she had feared it would be. For he did not presume upon their
2112meeting on the train; he gave no sign that he had ever seen her before;
2113there was not even a glint in his eyes to tell her that he remembered
2114the scornful look she had given him when she discovered him listening to
2115the conversation carried on between her uncle and Carrington. His manner
2116indicated that if _she_ did not care to mention the matter _he_ would
2117not. His face was grave as he stepped across the porch and stood before
2118her. And he said merely:
2119
2120“Are you looking for someone, ma’am?”
2121
2122“I came to see you, Mr. Taylor,” she said. (And then he knew that the
2123negro porter on the train had not lied when he said the girl had paid
2124him for certain information.)
2125
2126But Taylor’s face was still grave, for he thought he knew what she had
2127come for. He had overheard a great deal of the conversation between
2128Parsons and Carrington in the dining-car, and he remembered such phrases
2129as: “That fairy tale about her father having been seen in this locality;
2130To get her out here, where there isn’t a hell of a lot of law, and a
2131man’s will is the only thing that governs him;” and, “Then you lied
2132about Lawrence Harlan having been seen in this country.” Also, he
2133remembered distinctly another phrase, uttered by Carrington: “That you
2134framed up on her mother, to get her to leave Larry.”
2135
2136All of that conversation was vivid in Taylor’s mind, and mingled with
2137the recollection of it now was a grim pity for the girl, for the
2138hypocritical character of her supposed friends.
2139
2140To be sure, the girl did not know that Parsons had lied about her father
2141having been seen in the vicinity of Dawes; but that did not alter the
2142fact that Larry Harlan had really been here; and Taylor surmised that
2143she had made inquiries, thus discovering that there was truth in
2144Carrington’s statement.
2145
2146He got a chair for her and seated himself on the porch railing.
2147
2148“You came to see me?” he said, encouragingly.
2149
2150“I am Marion Harlan, the daughter of Lawrence Harlan,” began the girl.
2151And then she paused to note the effect of her words on Taylor.
2152
2153So far as she could see, there was no sign of emotion on Taylor’s face.
2154He nodded, looking steadily at her.
2155
2156“And you are seeking news of your father,” he said. “Who told you to
2157come to me?”
2158
2159“A man named Ben Mullarky. He said my father had worked for you—that
2160you had been his best friend.”
2161
2162She saw his lips come together in straight lines.
2163
2164“Poor Larry. You knew he died, Miss Harlan?”
2165
2166“Mullarky told me.” The girl’s eyes moistened. “And I should like to
2167know something about him—how he lived after—after he left home;
2168whether he was happy—all about him. You see, Mr. Taylor, I loved him!”
2169
2170“And Larry Harlan loved his daughter,” said Taylor softly.
2171
2172He began to tell her of her father; how several years before Harlan had
2173come to him, seeking employment; how Larry and himself had formed a
2174friendship; how they had gone together in search of the gold that Larry
2175claimed to have discovered in the Sangre de Christo Mountains; of the
2176injury Larry had suffered, and how the man had died while he himself had
2177been taking him toward civilization and assistance.
2178
2179During the recital, however, one thought dominated him, reddening his
2180face with visible evidence of the sense of guilt that had seized him. He
2181must deliberately lie to the daughter of the man who had been his
2182friend.
2183
2184In his pocket at this instant was Larry’s note to him, in which the man
2185had expressed his fear of fortune-hunters. Taylor remembered the exact
2186words:
2187
2188 Marion will have considerable money and I don’t want no sneak to get
2189 hold of it—like the sneak that got hold of the money my wife had,
2190 that I saved. There’s a lot of them around. If Marion is going to
2191 fall in with one of that kind, I’d rather she wouldn’t get what I
2192 leave; the man would get it away from her. Use your own judgment and
2193 I’ll be satisfied.
2194
2195And Taylor’s judgment was that Carrington and Parsons were
2196fortune-hunters; that if they discovered the girl to be entitled to a
2197share of the money that had been received from the sale of the mine,
2198they would endeavor to convert it to their own use. And Taylor was
2199determined they should not have it.
2200
2201The conversation he had overheard in the dining-car had convinced him of
2202their utter hypocrisy and selfishness; it had aroused in him a feeling
2203of savage resentment and disgust that would not permit him to transfer a
2204cent of the money to the girl as long as they held the slightest
2205influence over her.
2206
2207Again he mentally quoted from Larry’s note to him:
2208
2209 The others were too selfish and sneaking. (That meant Parsons—and
2210 one other.) Squint, I want you to take care of her.... Sell—the
2211 mine—take my share and for it give Marion a half-interest in your
2212 ranch, the Arrow. If there is any left, put it in land in
2213 Dawes—that town is going to boom. Guard it for her, and marry her,
2214 Squint; she’ll make you a good wife.
2215
2216Since the first meeting with the girl on the train Taylor had felt an
2217entire sympathy with Larry Harlan in his expressed desire to have Taylor
2218marry the girl; in fact, she was the first girl that Taylor had ever
2219wanted to marry, and the passion in his heart for her had already passed
2220the wistful stage—he was determined to have her. But that passion did
2221not lessen his sense of obligation to Larry Harlan. Nor would it—if he
2222could not have the girl himself—prevent him doing what he could to keep
2223her from forming any sort of an alliance with the sort of man Larry had
2224wished to save her from, as expressed in this passage of the note: “If
2225Marion is going to fall in with one of that kind, I’d rather she
2226wouldn’t get what I leave.”
2227
2228Therefore, since Taylor distrusted Carrington and Parsons, he had
2229decided he would not tell the girl of the money her father had left—the
2230share of the proceeds of the mine. He would hold it for her, as a sacred
2231trust, until the time came—if it ever came—when she would have
2232discovered their faithlessness—or until she needed the money. More, he
2233was determined to expose the men.
2234
2235He knew, thanks to his eavesdropping on the train, at least something
2236regarding the motives that had brought them to Dawes; Carrington’s
2237words, “When we get hold of the reins,” had convinced him that they and
2238the interests behind them were to endeavor to rob the people of Dawes.
2239That was indicated by their attempt to have David Danforth elected mayor
2240of the town.
2241
2242Taylor had already decided that he could not permit Marion to see the
2243note her father had left, for he did not want her to feel that she was
2244under any obligation—parental or otherwise—to marry him. If he won her
2245at all, he wanted to win her on his merits.
2246
2247As a matter of fact, since he had decided to lie about the money, he was
2248determined to say nothing about the note at all. He would keep silent,
2249making whatever explanations that seemed to be necessary, trusting to
2250time and the logical sequence of events for the desired outcome.
2251
2252He was forced to begin to lie at once. When he had finished the story of
2253Larry’s untimely death, the girl looked straight at him.
2254
2255“Then you were with him when he died. Did—did he mention anyone—my
2256mother—or me?”
2257
2258“He said: ‘Squint, there is a daughter’”—Taylor was quoting from the
2259note—“‘she was fifteen when I saw her last. She looked just like
2260me—thank God for that!’” Taylor blushed when he saw the girl’s face
2261redden, for he knew what her thoughts were. He should not have quoted
2262that sentence. He resolved to be more careful; and went on: “He told me
2263I was to take care of you, to offer you a home at the Arrow—after I
2264found you. I was to go to Westwood, Illinois, to find you. I suppose he
2265wanted me to bring you here.”
2266
2267The speech was entirely unworthy, and Taylor knew it, and he eased his
2268conscience by adding: “He thought, I suppose, that you would like to be
2269where he had been. I’ve not touched the room he had. All his effects are
2270there—everything he owned, just as he left them. I had given him a room
2271in the house because I liked him (that was the truth), and I wanted him
2272where I could talk to him.”
2273
2274“I cannot thank you enough for that!” she said earnestly. And then
2275Taylor was forced to lie again, for she immediately asked: “And the
2276mine? It proved to be worthless, I suppose. For,” she added, “that would
2277be just father’s luck.”
2278
2279“The mine wasn’t what we thought it would be,” said Taylor. He was
2280looking at his boots when he spoke, and he wondered if his face was as
2281red as it felt.
2282
2283“I am not surprised.” There was no disappointment in her voice, and
2284therefore Taylor knew she was not avaricious—though he knew he had not
2285expected her to be. “Then he left nothing but his personal belongings?”
2286she added.
2287
2288Taylor nodded.
2289
2290The girl sat for a long time, looking out over the river into the vast
2291level that stretched away from it.
2292
2293“He has ridden there, I suppose,” she said wistfully. “He was here for
2294nearly three years, you said. Then he must have been everywhere around
2295here.” And she got up, gazing about her, as though she would firmly fix
2296the locality for future reminiscent dreams. Then suddenly she said:
2297
2298“I should like to see his room—may I?”
2299
2300“You sure can!”
2301
2302She followed him into the house, and he stood in the open doorway,
2303watching her as she went from place to place, looking at Larry’s
2304effects.
2305
2306Taylor did not remain long at the door; he went out upon the porch
2307again, leaving her in the room, and after a long time she joined him,
2308her eyes moist, but a smile on her lips.
2309
2310“You’ll leave his things there—a little longer, won’t you? I should
2311like to have them, and I shall come for them, some day.”
2312
2313“Sure,” he said. “But, look here, Miss Harlan. Why should you take his
2314things? Leave them here—and come yourself. That room is yours, if you
2315say the word. And a half-interest in the ranch. I was going to offer
2316your father an interest in it—if he had lived——”
2317
2318He realized his mistake when he saw her eyes widen incredulously. And
2319there was a change in her voice—it was full of doubt, of distrust
2320almost.
2321
2322“What had father done to deserve an interest in your ranch?” she
2323demanded.
2324
2325“Why,” he answered hesitatingly, “it’s rather hard to say. But he helped
2326me much; he suggested improvements that made the place more valuable; he
2327was a good man, and he took a great deal of the work off my mind—and I
2328liked him,” he finished lamely.
2329
2330“And do you think I could do his share of the work?” she interrogated,
2331looking at him with an odd smile, the meaning of which Taylor could not
2332fathom.
2333
2334“I couldn’t expect that, of course,” he said boldly; “but I owe Harlan
2335something for what he did for me, and I thought——”
2336
2337“You thought you would be charitable to the daughter,” she finished for
2338him, with a smile in which there was gratitude and understanding.
2339
2340“I am sure I can’t thank you enough for feeling that way toward my
2341father and myself. But I can’t accept, you know.”
2342
2343Taylor did know, of course. A desperate desire to make amends for his
2344lying, to force upon her gratuitously what he had illegally robbed her
2345of, had been the motive underlying his offer. And he would have been
2346disappointed had she accepted, for that would have revealed a lack of
2347spirit which he had hoped she possessed.
2348
2349And yet Taylor felt decidedly uncomfortable over the refusal. He wanted
2350her to have what belonged to her, for he divined from the note her
2351father had left that she would have need of it.
2352
2353He discovered by judicious questioning, by inference, and through crafty
2354suggestion, that she was entirely dependent upon her uncle; that her
2355uncle had bought the Huggins house, and that Carrington had made her a
2356present of the horse she rode.
2357
2358This last bit of information, volunteered by Marion, provoked Taylor to
2359a rage that made him grit his teeth.
2360
2361A little while longer they talked, and when the girl mounted her horse
2362to ride away, they had entered into an agreement under which on Tuesdays
2363and Fridays—the first Tuesday falling on the following day—Taylor was
2364to be absent from the ranch. And during his absence the girl was to come
2365and stay at the ranchhouse, there to occupy her father’s room and, if
2366she desired, to enter the other rooms at will.
2367
2368As a concession to propriety, she was to bring Martha, the Huggins
2369housekeeper, with her.
2370
2371But Taylor, after the girl had left, stood for an hour on the porch,
2372watching the dust-cloud that followed the girl’s progress through the
2373big basin, his face red, his soul filled with loathing for the part his
2374judgment was forcing him to play. But arrayed against the loathing was a
2375complacent satisfaction aroused over the thought that Carrington would
2376never get the money that Larry Harlan had left to the girl.
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381CHAPTER X—THE FRAME-UP
2382
2383
2384James J. Carrington was unscrupulous, but even his most devout enemy
2385could not have said that he lacked vision and thoroughness. And, while
2386he had been listening to Danforth in his apartment in the Castle Hotel,
2387he had discovered that Neil Norton had made a technical blunder in
2388electing Quinton Taylor mayor of Dawes. Perhaps that was why Carrington
2389had not seemed to be very greatly disturbed over the knowledge that
2390Danforth had been defeated; certainly it was why Carrington had taken
2391the first train to the capital.
2392
2393Carrington was tingling with elation when he reached the capital; but on
2394making inquiries he found that the governor had left the city the day
2395before, and that he was not expected to return for several days.
2396
2397Carrington passed the interval renewing some acquaintances, and fuming
2398with impatience in the barroom, the billiard-room, and the lobby of his
2399hotel.
2400
2401But he was the first visitor admitted to the governor’s office when the
2402latter returned.
2403
2404The governor was a big man, flaccid and portly, and he received
2405Carrington with a big Stetson set rakishly on the back of his head and
2406an enormous black cigar in his mouth. That he was not a statesman but a
2407professional politician was quite as apparent from his appearance as was
2408his huge, welcoming smile, a certain indication that he was on terms of
2409intimate friendship with Carrington. Formerly an eastern political
2410worker, and a power in the councils of his party, his appointment as
2411governor of the Territory had come, not because of his ability to fill
2412the position, but as a reward for the delivery of certain votes which
2413had helped to make his party successful at the polls. He would be the
2414last carpetbag governor of the Territory, for the Territory had at last
2415been admitted to the Union; the new Legislature was even then in
2416session; charters were already being issued to municipalities that
2417desired self-government—and the governor, soon to quit his position as
2418temporary chief, had no real interest in the new régime, and no desire
2419to aid in eliminating the inevitable confusion.
2420
2421“Take a seat, Jim,” he invited, “and have a cigar. My secretary tells me
2422you’ve been buzzing around here like a bee lost from the hive, for the
2423past week.” He grinned hugely at Carrington, poking the latter playfully
2424in the ribs as Carrington essayed to light the cigar that had been given
2425him.
2426
2427“Worried about that man Taylor, in Dawes, eh?” he went on, as Carrington
2428smoked. “Well, it _was_ too bad that Danforth didn’t trim him, wasn’t
2429it? But”—and his eyes narrowed—“I’m still governor, and Taylor isn’t
2430mayor yet—and never will be!”
2431
2432Carrington smiled. “You saw the mistake, too, eh?”
2433
2434“Saw it!” boomed the governor. “I’ve been watching that town as a cat
2435watches a mouse. Itching for the clean-up, Jim,” he whispered. “Why,
2436I’ve got the papers all made out—ousting him and appointing Danforth
2437mayor. Right here they are.” He reached into a pigeon-hole and drew out
2438some legal papers. “You can serve them yourself. Just hand them to Judge
2439Littlefield—he’ll do the rest. It’s likely—if Taylor starts a fuss,
2440that you’ll have to help Littlefield handle the case—arranging for
2441deputies, and such. If you need any more help, just wire me. I don’t
2442pack my carpetbag for a year yet, and we can do a lot of work in that
2443time.”
2444
2445Carrington and the governor talked for an hour or more, and when
2446Carrington left for the office he was grinning with pleasurable
2447anticipation. For a municipality, already sovereign according to the
2448laws of the people, had been delivered into his hands.
2449
2450Just at dusk on Tuesday evening Carrington alighted from the train at
2451Dawes. He went to his rooms in the Castle, removed the stains of travel,
2452descended the stairs to the dining-room, and ate heartily; then,
2453stopping at the cigar-counter to light a cigar, he inquired of the clerk
2454where he could find Judge Littlefield.
2455
2456“He’s got a house right next to the courthouse—on your left, from
2457here,” the clerk told him.
2458
2459A few minutes later Carrington was seated opposite Judge Littlefield,
2460with a table between them, in the front room of the judge’s residence.
2461
2462“My name is Carrington—James J.,” was Carrington’s introduction of
2463himself. “I have just left the governor, and he gave me these, to hand
2464over to you.” He shoved over the papers the governor had given him,
2465smiling slightly at the other.
2466
2467The judge answered the smile with a beaming smirk.
2468
2469“I’ve heard of you,” he said; “the governor has often spoken of you.” He
2470glanced hastily over the papers, and his smirk widened. “The good people
2471of Dawes will be rather shocked over this decision, I suppose. But
2472laymen _will_ confuse things—won’t they? Now, if Norton and his friends
2473had come to _me_ before they decided to enter Taylor’s name, this thing
2474would not have happened.”
2475
2476“I’m glad it _did_ happen,” laughed Carrington. “The chances are that
2477even Norton would have beaten Danforth, and then the governor could not
2478have interfered.”
2479
2480Carrington’s gaze became grim as he looked at the judge. “You are
2481prepared to go the limit in this case, I suppose?” he interrogated.
2482“There is a chance that Taylor and his friends will attempt to make
2483trouble. But any trouble is to be handled firmly, you understand. There
2484is to be no monkey business. If they accept the law’s mandates, as all
2485law-abiding citizens should accept it, all well and good. And if they
2486don’t—and they want trouble, we’ll give them that! Understand?”
2487
2488“Perfectly,” smiled the judge. “The law is not to be assailed.”
2489
2490Smilingly he bowed Carrington out.
2491
2492Carrington took a turn down the street, walking until his cigar burned
2493itself out; then he entered the hotel and sat for a time in the lobby.
2494Then he went to bed, satisfied that he had done a good week’s work, and
2495conscious that he had launched a heavy blow at the man for whom he had
2496conceived a great and bitter hatred.
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501CHAPTER XI—“NO FUN FOOLING HER”
2502
2503
2504Accompanied by Martha, who rode one of the horses Parsons had bought,
2505Marion Harlan began her trip to the Arrow shortly after dawn.
2506
2507The girl had said nothing to Parsons regarding her meeting with Taylor
2508the previous day, nor of her intention to pass the day at the Arrow. For
2509she feared that Parsons might make some objection—and she wanted to go.
2510
2511That she feared her uncle’s deterrent influence argued that she was
2512aware that she was doing wrong in going to the Arrow—even with Martha
2513as chaperon; but that was, perhaps, the very reason the thought of going
2514engaged her interest.
2515
2516She wondered many times, as she rode, with the negro woman trailing her,
2517if there was not inherent in her some of those undesirable traits
2518concerning which the good people of Westwood had entertained fears.
2519
2520The thought crimsoned her cheeks and brightened her eyes; but she knew
2521she had no vicious thoughts—that she was going to the Arrow, not
2522because she wanted to see Taylor again, but because she wanted to sit in
2523the room that had been occupied by her father. She wanted to look again
2524at his belongings, to feel his former presence—as she had felt it while
2525gazing out over the vast level beyond the river, where he had ridden
2526many times.
2527
2528She looked in on Mrs. Mullarky as they passed the Mullarky cabin, and
2529when the good woman learned of her proposed visit to the Arrow, she gave
2530her entire approval.
2531
2532“I don’t blame you, darlin’,” declared Mrs. Mullarky. “Let the world
2533jabber—if it wants to. If it was me father that had been over there,
2534I’d stay there, takin’ Squint Taylor at his word—an’ divvle a bit I’d
2535care what the world would say about it!”
2536
2537So Marion rode on, slightly relieved. But the crimson stain was still on
2538her cheeks when she and Martha dismounted at the porch, and she looked
2539fearfully around, half-expecting that Taylor would appear from
2540somewhere, having tricked her.
2541
2542But Taylor was nowhere in sight. A fat man appeared from somewhere in
2543the vicinity of the stable, doffed his hat politely, informed her that
2544he was the “stable boss” and would care for the horses; he having been
2545delegated by Taylor to perform whatever service Miss Harlan desired; and
2546ambled off, leading the horses, leaving the girl and Martha standing
2547near the edge of the porch.
2548
2549Marion entered the house with a strange feeling of guilt and shame.
2550Standing in the open doorway—where she had seen Taylor standing when
2551she had dismounted the day before—she was afflicted with regret and
2552mortification over her coming. It wasn’t right for a girl to do as she
2553was doing; and for an instant she hesitated on the verge of flight.
2554
2555But Martha’s voice directly behind her, reassured her.
2556
2557“They ain’t a soul here, honey—not a soul. You’ve got the whole house
2558to yo’self. This am a lark—shuah enough. He, he, he!”
2559
2560It was the voice of the temptress—and Marion heeded it. With a defiant
2561toss of her head she entered the room, took off her hat, laid it on a
2562convenient table, calmly telling Martha to do the same. Then she went
2563boldly from one room to another, finally coming to a halt in the doorway
2564of the room that had been occupied by her father.
2565
2566For her that room seemed to hallow the place. It was as though her
2567father were here with her; as though there were no need of Martha being
2568here with her. The thought of it removed any stigma that might have been
2569attached to her coming; it made her heedless of the opinion of the world
2570and its gossip-mongers.
2571
2572She forgot the world in her interest, and for more than an hour, with
2573Martha sitting in a chair sympathetically watching her, she reveled in
2574the visible proofs of her father’s occupancy of the room.
2575
2576Later she and Martha went out on the porch, where, seated in
2577rocking-chairs—that had not been on the porch the day before—she
2578filled her mental vision with pictures of her father’s life at the
2579Arrow. Those pictures were imaginary, but they were intensely satisfying
2580to the girl who had loved her father, for she could almost see him
2581moving about her.
2582
2583“You shuah does look soft an’ dreamy, honey,” Martha told her once. “You
2584looks jes’ like a delicate ghost. A while ago, lookin’ at you, I shuah
2585was scared you was goin’ to blow away!”
2586
2587But Marion was not the ethereal wraith that Martha thought her. She
2588proved that a little later, when, with the negro woman abetting her, she
2589went into the house and prepared dinner. For she ate so heartily that
2590Martha was forced to amend her former statement.
2591
2592“For a ghost you shuah does eat plenty, honey,” she said.
2593
2594Later they were out on the porch again. The big level on the other side
2595of the river was flooded with a slumberous sunshine, with the glowing,
2596rose haze of early afternoon enveloping it, and the girl was enjoying it
2597when there came an interruption.
2598
2599A cowboy emerged from a building down near the corral—Marion learned
2600later that the building was the bunkhouse, which meant that it was used
2601as sleeping-quarters for the Arrow outfit—and walked, with the rolling
2602stride so peculiar to his kind, toward the porch.
2603
2604He was a tall young man, red of face, and just now affected with a
2605mighty embarrassment, which was revealed in the awkward manner in which
2606he removed his hat and shuffled his feet as he came to a halt within a
2607few feet of Marion.
2608
2609“The boss wants to know how you are gettin’ along, ma’am, an’ if there’s
2610anything you’re wantin’?”
2611
2612“We are enjoying ourselves immensely, thank you; and there is nothing we
2613want—particularly.”
2614
2615The puncher had turned to go before the girl thought of the significance
2616of the “boss.”
2617
2618Her face was a trifle pale as she called to the puncher.
2619
2620“Who is your boss—if you please?” she asked.
2621
2622The puncher wheeled, a slow grin on his face.
2623
2624“Why, Squint Taylor, ma’am.”
2625
2626She sat erect. “Do you mean that Mr. Taylor is here?”
2627
2628“He’s in the bunkhouse, ma’am.”
2629
2630She got up, and, holding her head very erect, began to walk toward the
2631room in which she had left her hat.
2632
2633But half-way across the porch the puncher’s voice halted her:
2634
2635“Squint was sayin’ you didn’t expect him to be here, an’ that I’d have
2636to do the explainin’. He couldn’t come, you see.”
2637
2638“Ashamed, I suppose,” she said coldly.
2639
2640She was facing the puncher now, and she saw him grin.
2641
2642“Why, no, ma’am; I don’t reckon he’s a heap ashamed. But it’d be mighty
2643inconvenient for him. You see, ma’am, this mornin’, when he was gittin’
2644ready to ride to the south line, his cayuse got an ornery streak an’
2645throwed him, sprainin’ Squint’s ankle.”
2646
2647The girl’s emotions suddenly reacted; the resentment she had yielded to
2648became self-reproach. For she had judged hastily, and she had always
2649felt that one had no right to judge hastily.
2650
2651And Taylor had been remarkably considerate; for he had not even
2652permitted her to know of the accident until after noon. That indicated
2653that he had no intention of forcing himself on her.
2654
2655She hesitated, saw Martha grinning into a hand, looked at the puncher’s
2656expressionless face, and felt that she had been rather prudish. Her
2657cheeks flushed with color.
2658
2659Taylor had actually been a martyr on a small scale in confining himself
2660to the bunkhouse, when he could have enjoyed the comforts and
2661spaciousness of the ranchhouse if it had not been for her own presence.
2662
2663“Is—is his ankle badly sprained?” she hesitatingly asked the now
2664sober-faced puncher.
2665
2666“Kind of bad, ma’am; he ain’t been able to do no walkin’ on it. Been
2667hobblin’ an’ swearin’, mostly, ma’am. It’s sure a trial to be near him.”
2668
2669“And it is warm here; it must be terribly hot in that little place!”
2670
2671She was at the edge of the porch now, her face radiating sympathy.
2672
2673“I am not surprised that he should swear!” she told the puncher, who
2674grinned and muttered:
2675
2676“He’s sure first class at it, ma’am.”
2677
2678“Why,” she said, paying no attention to the puncher’s compliment of his
2679employer, “he is hurt, and I have been depriving him of his house. You
2680tell him to come right out of that stuffy place! Help him to come here!”
2681
2682And without waiting to watch the puncher depart, she darted into the
2683house, pulled a big rocker out on the porch, got a pillow and arranged
2684it so that it would form a resting-place for the injured man’s
2685head—providing he decided to occupy the chair, which she doubted—and
2686then stood on the edge of the porch, awaiting his appearance.
2687
2688Inside the bunkhouse the puncher was grinning at Taylor, who, with his
2689right foot swathed in bandages, was sitting on a bench, anxiously
2690awaiting the delivery of the puncher’s message.
2691
2692“Well, talk, you damned grinning inquisitor!” was Taylor’s greeting to
2693the puncher. “What did she say?”
2694
2695“At first she didn’t seem to be a heap overjoyed to know that you was in
2696this country,” said the other; “but when she heard you’d been hurt she
2697sort of stampeded, invitin’ you to come an’ set on the porch with her.”
2698
2699Taylor got up and started for the door, the bandaged foot dragging
2700clumsily.
2701
2702“Shucks,” drawled the puncher; “if you go to _runnin’_ to her she’ll
2703have suspicions. Accordin’ to my notion, she expects you to come a
2704hobblin’, same as though your leg was broke. ‘Help him to come,’ she
2705told me. An’ you’re goin’ that way—you hear me! I’ll bust your ankle
2706with a club before I’ll have her think I’m a liar!”
2707
2708“Maybe I _was_ a little eager,” grinned Taylor.
2709
2710An instant later he stepped out of the bunkhouse door, leaning heavily
2711on the puncher’s shoulder.
2712
2713The two made slow progress to the porch; and Taylor’s ascent to the
2714porch and his final achievement of the rocking-chair were accomplished
2715slowly, with the assistance of Miss Harlan.
2716
2717Then, with a face almost the color of the scarlet neckerchief he wore,
2718Taylor watched the retreat of the puncher.
2719
2720His face became redder when Miss Harlan drew another rocker close to his
2721and demanded to be told the story of the accident.
2722
2723“My own fault,” declared Taylor. “I was in a hurry. Accidents always
2724happen that way, don’t they? Slipped trying to swing on my horse, with
2725him running. Missed the stirrup. Clumsy, wasn’t it?”
2726
2727Eager to keep his word, of course, Marion reasoned. She had insisted
2728that he be gone when she arrived, and he had injured himself hurrying.
2729
2730She watched him as he talked of the accident. And now for the first time
2731she understood why he had acquired the nickname Squint.
2732
2733His eyes were deep-set, though not small. He did not really squint, for
2734there was plenty of room between the eyelids—which, by the way, were
2735fringed with lashes that might have been the envy of any woman; but
2736there were many little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, which spread
2737fanwise toward cheek and brow, and these created the illusion of
2738squinting.
2739
2740Also, he had a habit of partially closing his eyes when looking directly
2741at one; and at such times they held a twinkling glint that caused one to
2742speculate over their meaning.
2743
2744Miss Harlan was certain the twinkle meant humor. But other persons had
2745been equally sure the twinkle meant other emotions, or passion. Looking
2746into Taylor’s eyes in the dining-car, Carrington had decided they were
2747filled with cold, implacable hostility, with the promise of violence, to
2748himself. And yet the squint had not been absent.
2749
2750Whatever had been expressed in the eyes had been sufficient to deter
2751Carrington from his announced purpose to “knock hell out of” their
2752owner.
2753
2754The girl was aware that Taylor was not handsome; that his attractions
2755were not of a surface character. Something about him struck deeper than
2756that. A subtle magnetism gripped her—the magnetism of strength, moral
2757and mental. In his eyes she could see the signs of it; in the lines of
2758his jaw and the set of his lips were suggestions of indomitability and
2759force.
2760
2761All the visible signs were, however, glossed over with the deep, slow
2762humor that radiated from him, that glowed in his eyes.
2763
2764It all made her conscious of a great similarity between them; for
2765despite the doubts and suspicions of the people of Westwood, she had
2766been able to survive—and humor had been the grace that had saved her
2767from disappointment and pessimism. Those other traits in Taylor—visible
2768to one who studied him—she knew for her own; and her spirits now
2769responded to his.
2770
2771Her cheeks were glowing as she looked at him, and her eyes, half veiled
2772by the drooping lashes, were dancing with mischief.
2773
2774“You were in that hot bunkhouse all morning,” she said. “Why didn’t you
2775send word before?”
2776
2777“You were careful to tell me that you didn’t want me around when you
2778came.”
2779
2780There was a gleam of reproach in his eyes.
2781
2782“But you were injured!”
2783
2784“Look how things go in the world,” he invited, narrowing his eyes at
2785her. “It’s almost enough to make a man let go all holds and just drift
2786along. Maybe a man would be just as well off.
2787
2788“Early this morning I knew I had to light out for the day, and I didn’t
2789want to go any more than a gopher wants to go into a rattlesnake’s den.
2790But I had to keep my word. Then Spotted Tail gets notions——”
2791
2792“Spotted Tail?” she interrupted.
2793
2794“My horse,” he grinned at her. “He gets notions. Maybe he wants to get
2795away as much as I want to stay. Anyhow, he was in a hurry; and things
2796shape up so that I’ve got to stay.
2797
2798“And then, when I hang around the bunkhouse all morning, worrying
2799because I’m afraid you’ll find out that I didn’t keep my word, and that
2800I’m still here, you send word that you’ll not object to me coming on the
2801porch with you. I’d call that a misjudgment all around—on my part.”
2802
2803“Yes—it was that,” she told him. “You certainly are entitled to the
2804comforts of your own house—especially when you are hurt. But are you
2805sure you _worried_ because you were afraid I would discover you were
2806here?”
2807
2808“I expect you can prove that by looking at me, Miss Harlan—noticing
2809that I’ve got thin and pale-looking since you saw me last?”
2810
2811She threw a demure glance at him. “I am afraid you are in great danger;
2812you do not look nearly as well as when I saw you, the first time, on the
2813train.”
2814
2815He looked gravely at her.
2816
2817“The porter threw them out of the window,” he said. “That is, I gave him
2818orders to.”
2819
2820“What?” she said, perplexed. “I don’t understand. What did the porter
2821throw out of the window?”
2822
2823“My dude clothes,” he said.
2824
2825So he _had_ observed the ridicule in her eyes.
2826
2827She met his gaze, and both laughed.
2828
2829He had been curious about her all along, and he artfully questioned her
2830about Westwood, gradually drawing from her the rather unexciting details
2831of her life. Yet these details were chiefly volunteered, Taylor noticed,
2832and did not result entirely from his questions.
2833
2834Carrington’s name came into the discussion, also, and Parsons. Taylor
2835discovered that Carrington and Parsons had been partners in many
2836business deals, and that they had come to Dawes because the town offered
2837many possibilities. The girl quoted Carrington’s words; Taylor was
2838convinced that she knew nothing of the character of the business the men
2839had come to Dawes to transact.
2840
2841Their talk strayed to minor subjects and to those of great importance,
2842ranging from a discussion of prairie hens to sage comment upon certain
2843abstruse philosophy. Always, however, the personal note was dominant and
2844the personal interest acute.
2845
2846That atmosphere—the deep interest of each for the other—made their
2847conversation animated. For half the time the girl paid no attention to
2848Taylor’s words. She watched him when he talked, noting the various
2849shades of expression of his eyes, the curve of his lips, wondering at
2850the deep music of his voice. She marveled that at first she had thought
2851him uninteresting and plain.
2852
2853For she had discovered that he was rather good-looking; that he was
2854endowed with a natural instinct to reach accurate and logical
2855conclusions; that he was quiet-mannered and polite—and a gentleman. Her
2856first impressions of him had not been correct, for during their talk she
2857discovered through casual remarks, that Taylor had been educated with
2858some care, that his ancestors were of that sturdy American stock which
2859had made the settling of the eastern New-World wilderness possible, and
2860that there was in his manner the unmistakable gentleness of good
2861breeding.
2862
2863However, Taylor’s first impressions of the girl had endured without
2864amendations. At a glance he had yielded to the spell of her, and the
2865intimate and informal conversation carried on between them; the flashes
2866of personality he caught merely served to convince him of her
2867desirability.
2868
2869Twice during their talk Martha cleared her throat significantly and
2870loudly, trying to attract their attention.
2871
2872The efforts bore no fruit, and Martha might have been entirely forgotten
2873if she had not finally got to her feet and laid a hand on Marion’s
2874shoulder.
2875
2876“I’s gwine to lie down a spell, honey,” she said. “You-all don’t need no
2877third party to entertain you. An’ I’s powerful tiahd.” And over the
2878girl’s shoulder she smiled broadly and sympathetically at Taylor.
2879
2880The sun was filling the western level with a glowing, golden haze when
2881Miss Harlan got to her feet and announced that she was going home.
2882
2883“It’s the first day I have really enjoyed,” she told Taylor as she sat
2884in the saddle, looking at him. He had got up and was standing at the
2885porch edge. “That is, it is the first enjoyable day I have passed since
2886I have been here,” she added.
2887
2888“I wouldn’t say that I’ve been exactly bored myself,” he grinned at her.
2889“But I’m not so sure about Friday; for if you come Friday the chances
2890are that my ankle will be well again, and I’ll have to make myself
2891scarce. You see, my excuse will be gone.”
2892
2893Martha was sitting on her horse close by, and her eyes were dancing.
2894
2895“Don’ you go an’ bust your haid, Mr. Taylor!” she warned. “I knows
2896somebuddy that would be powerful sorry if that would happen to you!”
2897
2898“Martha!” said Marion severely. But her eyes were eloquent as they met
2899Taylor’s twinkling ones; and she saw a deep color come into Taylor’s
2900cheeks.
2901
2902Taylor watched her until she grew dim in the distance; then he turned
2903and faced the tall young puncher, who had stepped upon the porch and had
2904been standing near.
2905
2906The puncher grinned. “Takin’ ’em off now, boss?” he asked.
2907
2908He pointed to the bandages on Taylor’s right foot. In one of the young
2909puncher’s hands was Taylor’s right boot.
2910
2911“Yes,” returned Taylor.
2912
2913He sat down in the rocker he had occupied all afternoon, and the young
2914puncher removed the bandages, revealing Taylor’s bare foot and ankle,
2915with no bruise or swelling to mar the white skin.
2916
2917Taylor drew on the sock which the puncher drew from the boot; then he
2918pulled on the boot and stood up.
2919
2920The puncher was grinning hugely, but no smile was on Taylor’s face.
2921
2922“It worked, boss,” said the puncher; “she didn’t tumble. I thought I’d
2923laff my head off when I seen her fixin’ the pillow for you—an’ your
2924foot not hurt more than mine. You ought to be plumb tickled, pullin’ off
2925a trick like that!”
2926
2927“I ain’t a heap tickled,” declared Taylor glumly. “There’s no fun in
2928fooling _her_!”
2929
2930Which indicated that Taylor’s thoughts were now serious.
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935CHAPTER XII—LIFTING THE MASK
2936
2937
2938Elam Parsons awoke early in the morning following that on which Marion
2939Harlan’s visit to the Arrow occurred. He lay for a long time smiling at
2940the ceiling, with a feeling that something pleasurable was in store for
2941him, but not able to determine what that something was.
2942
2943It was not long, however, before Parsons remembered.
2944
2945When he had got out of bed the previous morning he had discovered the
2946absence of Marion and Martha. Also, he found that two of the horses were
2947missing—Marion’s, and one of the others he had personally bought.
2948
2949Parsons spent the day in Dawes. Shortly before dusk he got on his horse
2950and rode homeward. Dismounting at the stable, he noted that the two
2951absent horses had not come in. He grinned disagreeably and went into the
2952house. He emerged almost instantly, for Marion and Martha had not
2953returned.
2954
2955Later he saw them, Marion leading, coming up the slope that led to the
2956level upon which the house stood.
2957
2958Marion had retired early, and after she had gone to her room Parsons had
2959questioned Martha.
2960
2961Twice while getting into his clothes this morning Parsons chuckled
2962audibly. There was malicious amusement in the sound.
2963
2964Once he caught himself saying aloud:
2965
2966“I knew it would come, sooner or later. And she’s picked out the
2967clodhopper! This will tickle Carrington!”
2968
2969Again he laughed—such a laugh as the good people of Westwood might have
2970used had they known what Parsons knew—that Marion Harlan had visited a
2971stranger at his ranchhouse—a lonely place, far from prying eyes.
2972
2973Parsons hated the girl as heartily as he had hated her father. He hated
2974her because of her close resemblance to her parent; and he had hated
2975Larry Harlan ever since their first meeting.
2976
2977Parsons likewise had no affection for Carrington. They had been business
2978associates for many years, and their association had been profitable for
2979both; but there was none of that respect and admiration which marks many
2980partnerships.
2981
2982On several occasions Carrington had betrayed greediness in the division
2983of the spoils of their ventures. But Carrington was the strong man,
2984ruthless and determined, and Parsons was forced to nurse his resentment
2985in silence. He meant some day, however, to repay Carrington, and he lost
2986no opportunity to harass him. And yet it had been Parsons who had
2987brought Carrington to Westwood two years before. He knew Carrington; he
2988knew something of the big man’s way with women, of his merciless
2989treatment of them. And he had invited Carrington to Westwood, hoping
2990that the big man would add Marion Harlan to his list of victims.
2991
2992So far, Carrington had made little progress. This fact, contrary to
2993Parsons’ principles, had afforded the man secret enjoyment. He liked to
2994see Carrington squirm under disappointment. He anticipated much pleasure
2995in watching Carrington’s face when he should tell him where Marion had
2996been the day before.
2997
2998He breakfasted alone—early—chuckling his joy. And shortly after he
2999left the table he was on a horse, riding toward Dawes.
3000
3001He reached town about eight and went directly to Carrington’s rooms in
3002the Castle.
3003
3004Carrington had shaved and washed, and was sitting at a front window,
3005coatless, his hair uncombed, when Parsons knocked on the door.
3006
3007“You’re back, eh?” said Parsons as he took a chair near the window.
3008“Danforth was telling me you went to see the governor. Did you fix it?”
3009
3010Carrington grinned. “Taylor was to take the oath today. He won’t take
3011it—at least, not the sort of oath he expected.”
3012
3013“It’s lucky you knew the governor.”
3014
3015“H-m.” The grim grunt indicated that, governor or no governor,
3016Carrington would not be denied.
3017
3018Parsons smirked. But Carrington detected an unusual quality in the
3019smirk—something more than satisfaction over the success of the visit to
3020the governor. There was malicious amusement in the smirk, and
3021anticipation. Parsons’ expressed satisfaction was not over what _had_
3022happened, but over what was _going_ to happen.
3023
3024Carrington knew Parsons, and therefore Carrington gave no sign of what
3025he had seen in Parsons’ face. He talked of Dawes and of their own
3026prospects. But once, when Carrington mentioned Marion Harlan, quite
3027casually, he noted that Parsons’ eyes widened.
3028
3029But Parsons said nothing on the subject which had brought him until he
3030had talked for half an hour. Then, noting that his manner had aroused
3031Carrington’s interest, he said softly:
3032
3033“This man, Taylor, seems destined to get in your way, doesn’t he?”
3034
3035“What do you mean?” demanded Carrington shortly.
3036
3037“Do you remember telling me—on the train, with this man, Taylor,
3038listening—that your story to Marion, of her father having been seen in
3039this locality, was a fairy tale—without foundation?”
3040
3041At Carrington’s nod Parsons continued:
3042
3043“Well, it seems it was not a fairy tale, after all. For Larry Harlan was
3044in his section for two or three years!”
3045
3046“Who told you that?” Carrington slid forward in his chair and was
3047looking hard at Parsons.
3048
3049Parsons was enjoying the other’s astonishment, and Parsons was not to be
3050hurried—he wanted to _taste_ the flavor of his news; it was as good to
3051his palate as a choice morsel of food to the palate of a disciple of
3052Epicurus.
3053
3054“It came in a sort of roundabout way, I understand,” said Parsons. “It
3055seems that during your absence Marion made a number of inquiries about
3056her father. Then a man named Ben Mullarky rode over to the house and
3057told her that Larry had been in this country—that he had worked for the
3058Arrow.”
3059
3060“That’s Taylor’s ranch,” said Carrington. A deep scowl furrowed his
3061forehead; his lips extended in a sullen pout.
3062
3063Parsons was enjoying him. “Taylor again, eh?” he said softly. “First, he
3064appears on the train, where he gets an earful of something we don’t want
3065him to hear; then he is elected mayor, which is detrimental to our
3066interests; then we discover that Larry Harlan worked for him. _You’ll_
3067be interested to know that Marion went right over to the Arrow—in fact,
3068she spent part of Monday there, and practically _all_ of yesterday.
3069More, Taylor has invited her to come whenever she wants to.”
3070
3071“She went alone?” demanded Carrington.
3072
3073“With Martha, my negro housekeeper. But that—” Parsons made a gesture
3074of derision and went on: “Martha says Taylor was there with her, and
3075that the two of them—with Martha asleep in the house—spent the entire
3076afternoon on the porch, talking rather intimately.”
3077
3078To Parsons’ surprise Carrington did not betray the perturbation Parsons
3079expected. The scowl was still furrowing his forehead, his lips were
3080still in the sullen pout; but he said nothing, looking steadily at
3081Parsons.
3082
3083At last his lips moved slightly; Parsons could see the clenched teeth
3084between them.
3085
3086“Where’s Larry Harlan now?”
3087
3088Parsons related the story told him by Martha—which had been imparted to
3089the negro woman by Marion in confidence—that Larry Harlan had been
3090accidentally killed, searching for a mine.
3091
3092When Parsons finished Carrington got up. There was a grin on his face as
3093he stepped to where Parsons sat and placed his two hands heavily on the
3094other’s shoulders.
3095
3096There was a grin on his face, but his eyes were agleam with a slumbering
3097passion that made Parsons catch his breath with a gasp. And his voice,
3098low, and freighted with menace, caused Parsons to quake with terror.
3099
3100“Parsons,” he said, “I want you to understand this: I am going to be the
3101law out here. I’ll run things to suit myself. I’ll have no half-hearted
3102loyalty, and I’ll destroy any man who opposes me! Those who are not with
3103me to the last gasp are against me!” He laughed, and Parsons felt the
3104man’s hot breath on his face—so close was it to his own.
3105
3106“I was born a thousand years too late, Parsons!” he went on. “I am a
3107robber baron brought down to date—modernized. I believe that in me
3108flows the blood of a pirate, a savage, or an ancient king; I have all
3109the instincts of a tribal chief whose principles are to rule or ruin!
3110I’ll have no law out here but my own desires; and hypocrisy—in
3111others—doesn’t appeal to me!
3112
3113“You’ve told me a tale that interested me, but in the telling of it you
3114made one mistake—you enjoyed the discomfiture you thought it would give
3115me. You tingled with malice. Just to show you that I’ll not tolerate
3116disloyalty from you—even in thought—I’m going to punish you.”
3117
3118He dropped his big hands to Parsons’ throat, shutting off the incipient
3119scream that issued from between the man’s lips. Parsons fought with all
3120his strength to escape the grip of the iron fingers at his throat,
3121twisting and squirming frenziedly in the chair. But the fingers
3122tightened their grip, and when the man’s face began to turn blue-black,
3123Carrington released him and looked down at his victim, laughing
3124vibrantly.
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129CHAPTER XIII—THE SHADOW OF TROUBLE
3130
3131
3132Elam recovered slowly, for Carrington had choked him into
3133unconsciousness. Out of the blank, dark coma Parsons came, his brain
3134reeling, his body racked with agonizing pains. His hands went to his
3135throat before he could open his eyes; he pulled at the flesh to ease the
3136constriction that still existed there; he caught his breath in great
3137gasps that shrilled through the room. And when at last he succeeded in
3138getting his breath to come regularly, he opened his eyes and saw
3139Carrington seated in a chair near him, watching him with a cold,
3140speculative smile.
3141
3142He heard Carrington’s voice saying: “Pretty close, wasn’t it, Parsons?”
3143But he did not answer; his vocal cords were still partially paralyzed.
3144
3145He closed his eyes again and stretched out in the chair. Carrington
3146thought he had fainted, but Parsons was merely resting—and thinking.
3147
3148His thoughts were not pleasant. Many times during the years of their
3149association he had seen the beast in Carrington’s eyes, but this was the
3150first time Carrington had even shown it in his presence, naked and ugly.
3151Carrington had told him many times that were he not hemmed in with laws
3152and courts he would tramp ruthlessly over every obstacle that got in his
3153way; and Parsons knew now that the man had meant what he said. The beast
3154in him was rampant; his passions were to have free rein; he had thrown
3155off the shackles of civilization and was prepared to do murder to attain
3156his aims.
3157
3158Parsons realized his own precarious predicament. Carrington controlled
3159every cent Parsons owned—it was in the common pool, which was in
3160Carrington’s charge. Parsons might leave Dawes, but his money must
3161stay—Carrington would never give it up. More, Parsons was now afraid to
3162ask for an accounting or a division, for fear Carrington would kill him.
3163
3164Parsons knew he must stay in Dawes, and that from now on he must play
3165lackey to the master who, at last in an environment that suited him, had
3166so ruthlessly demonstrated his principles.
3167
3168In a spirit of abject surrender Parsons again opened his eyes and sat
3169up. Carrington rose and again stood over him.
3170
3171“You understand now, Parsons, I’m running things. You stay in the
3172background. If you interfere with me I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you if you
3173laugh at me again. Your job out here is to take care of Marion Harlan.
3174You’re to keep her here. If she gets away I’ll manhandle you! Now get
3175out of here!”
3176
3177An hour later Parsons was sitting on the front porch of the big house,
3178staring vacantly out into the big level below him, his heart full of
3179hatred and impotent resentment; his brain, formerly full of craft and
3180guile, now temporarily atrophied through its attempts to comprehend the
3181new character of the man who had throttled him.
3182
3183In Dawes, Carrington was getting into his clothing. He was smiling, his
3184eyes glowing with grim satisfaction. At nine o’clock Carrington
3185descended the stairs, stopped in the hotel lobby to light a cigar; then
3186crossed the street and went into the courthouse, where he was greeted
3187effusively by Judge Littlefield. Quinton Taylor, too, was going to the
3188courthouse.
3189
3190This morning at ten o’clock, according to information received from Neil
3191Norton—sent to Taylor by messenger the night before—Taylor was to take
3192the oath of office.
3193
3194Taylor was conscious of the honor bestowed upon him by the people of
3195Dawes, though at first he had demurred, pointing out that he was not
3196actually a resident of the town—the Arrow lying seven miles southward.
3197But this objection had been met and dismissed by his friends, who had
3198insisted that he was a resident of the town by virtue of his large
3199interests there, and from the fact that he occupied an apartment above
3200the Dawes bank, and that he spent more time in it than he spent in the
3201Arrow ranchhouse.
3202
3203But on the ride to Dawes—on Spotted Tail—(this morning wonderfully
3204docile despite Tuesday’s slander by his master)—Taylor’s thoughts dwelt
3205not upon the honor that was to be his, but upon the questionable trick
3206he had played on Marion Harlan, with the able assistance of the tall
3207young puncher, Bud Hemmingway.
3208
3209He looked down at the foot, now unbandaged, with a frown. The girl’s
3210complete and matter-of-fact belief in the story of his injury; her
3211sympathy and deep concern; the self-accusation in her eyes; the instant
3212pardon she had granted him for staying at the ranchhouse when he should
3213not have stayed—all these he arrayed against the bald fact that he had
3214tricked her. And he felt decidedly guilty.
3215
3216And yet somehow there was some justification for the trick. It was the
3217justification of desire. The things a man wants are not to be denied by
3218the narrow standards of custom. Does a man miss an opportunity to
3219establish acquaintance with a girl he has fallen in love with, merely
3220because custom has decreed that she shall not come unattended—save by a
3221negro woman—to his house?
3222
3223Taylor made desire his justification, and his sense of guilt was
3224dispelled by half.
3225
3226Nor was the guilt so poignant that it rested heavily on his conscience
3227since he had done no harm to the girl.
3228
3229What harm had been done had been done to Taylor himself. He kept seeing
3230Marion as she sat on the porch, and the spell of her had seized him so
3231firmly that last night, after she had left, the ranchhouse had seemed to
3232be nothing more than four walls out of which all the life had gone. He
3233felt lonesome this morning, and was in the grip of a nameless longing.
3234
3235All the humor had departed from him. For the first time in all his days
3236a conception of the meaning of life assailed him, revealing to him a
3237glimpse of the difficulties of a man in love. For a man may love a girl:
3238his difficulties begin when the girl seems to become unattainable.
3239
3240Looming large in Taylor’s thoughts this morning was Carrington. Having
3241overheard Carrington talking of her on the train, Taylor thought he knew
3242what Carrington wanted; but he was in doubt regarding the state of the
3243girl’s feelings toward the man. Had she yielded to the man’s intense
3244personal magnetism?
3245
3246Carrington was handsome; there was no doubt that almost any girl would
3247be flattered by his attentions. And had Carrington been worthy of
3248Marion, Taylor would have entertained no hope of success—he would not
3249even have thought of it.
3250
3251But he had overheard Carrington; he knew the man’s nature was vile and
3252bestial; and already he hated him with a fervor that made his blood riot
3253when he thought of him.
3254
3255When he reached Dawes he found himself hoping that Marion would not be
3256in town to see that his ankle was unbandaged. But he might have saved
3257himself that throb of perturbation, for at that minute Marion was
3258standing in the front room of the big house, looking out of one of the
3259windows at Parsons, wondering what had happened to make him seem so glum
3260and abstracted.
3261
3262When Taylor dismounted in front of the courthouse there were several men
3263grouped on the sidewalk near the door.
3264
3265Neil Norton was in the group, and he came forward, smiling.
3266
3267“We’re here to witness the ceremony,” he told Taylor.
3268
3269Taylor’s greeting to the other men was not that of the professional
3270politician. He merely grinned at them and returned a short: “Well, let’s
3271get it over with,” to Norton’s remark. Then, followed by his friends, he
3272entered the courthouse.
3273
3274Taylor knew Judge Littlefield. He had no admiration for the man, and yet
3275his greeting was polite and courteous—it was the greeting of an
3276American citizen to an official.
3277
3278Taylor’s first quick glance about the interior of the courthouse showed
3279him Carrington. The latter was sitting in an armchair near a window
3280toward the rear of the room. He smiled as Taylor’s glance swept him, but
3281Taylor might not have seen the smile. For Taylor was deeply interested
3282in other things.
3283
3284A conception of the serious responsibility that he was to accept
3285assailed him. Until now the thing had been entirely personal; his
3286thoughts had centered upon the honor that was to be his—his friends had
3287selected him for an important position. And yet Taylor was not vain.
3288
3289Now, however, ready to accept the oath of office, he realized that he
3290was to become the servant of the municipality; that these friends of his
3291had elected him not merely to honor him but because they trusted him,
3292because they were convinced that he would administer the affairs of the
3293young town capably and in a fair and impartial manner. They depended
3294upon him for justice, advice, and guidance.
3295
3296All these things, to be sure, Taylor would give them to the best of his
3297ability. They must have known that or they would not have elected him.
3298
3299These thoughts sobered him as he walked to the little wooden railing in
3300front of the judge’s desk; and his face was grave as he looked at the
3301other.
3302
3303“I am ready to take the oath, Judge Littlefield,” he gravely announced.
3304
3305Glancing sidewise, Taylor saw that a great many men had come into the
3306room. He did not turn to look at them, however, for he saw a gleam in
3307Judge Littlefield’s eyes that held his attention.
3308
3309“That will not be necessary, Mr. Taylor,” he heard the judge say. “The
3310governor, through the attorney-general, has ruled you were not legally
3311elected to the office you aspire to. Only last night I was notified of
3312the decision. It was late, or I should have taken steps to apprise you
3313of the situation.”
3314
3315Taylor straightened. He heard exclamations from many men in the room; he
3316was conscious of a tension that had come into the atmosphere. Some men
3317scuffled their feet; and then there was a deep silence.
3318
3319Taylor smiled without mirth. His dominant emotion was curiosity.
3320
3321“Not legally elected?” he said. “Why?”
3322
3323The judge passed a paper to Taylor; it was one of those that had been
3324delivered to the judge by Carrington.
3325
3326The judge did not meet Taylor’s eyes.
3327
3328“You’ll find a full statement of the case, there,” he said. “Briefly,
3329however, the governor finds that your name did not appear on the
3330ballots.”
3331
3332Norton, who had been standing at Taylor’s side all along, now shoved his
3333way to the railing and leaned over it, his face white with wrath.
3334
3335“There’s something wrong here, Judge Littlefield!” he charged. “Taylor’s
3336name was on every ballot that was counted for him. I personally examined
3337every ballot!”
3338
3339The judge smiled tolerantly, almost benignantly.
3340
3341“Of course—to be sure,” he said. “Mr. Taylor’s name appeared on a good
3342many ballots; his friends _wrote_ it, with pencil, and otherwise. But
3343the law expressly states that a candidate’s name must be _printed_.
3344Therefore, obeying the letter of the law, the governor has ruled that
3345Mr. Taylor was not elected.” There was malicious satisfaction in Judge
3346Littlefield’s eyes as they met Taylor’s. Taylor could see that the judge
3347was in entire sympathy with the influences that were opposing him,
3348though the judge tried, with a grave smile, to create an impression of
3349impartiality.
3350
3351“Under the governor’s ruling, therefore,” he continued, “and acting
3352under explicit directions from the attorney-general, I am empowered to
3353administer the oath of office to the legally elected candidate, David
3354Danforth. Now, if Mr. Danforth is in the courtroom, and will come
3355forward, we shall conclude.”
3356
3357Mr. Danforth was in the courtroom; he was sitting near Carrington; and
3358he came forward, his face slightly flushed, with the gaze of every
3359person in the room on him.
3360
3361He smiled apologetically at Taylor as he reached the railing, extending
3362a hand.
3363
3364“I’m damned sorry, Taylor,” he declared. “This is all a surprise to me.
3365I hadn’t any doubt that they would swear you in. No hard feelings?”
3366
3367Taylor had been conscious of the humiliation of his position. He knew
3368that his friends would expect him to fight. And yet he felt more like
3369gracefully yielding to the forces which had barred him from office upon
3370the basis of so slight a technicality. And despite the knowledge that he
3371had been robbed of the office, he would have taken Danforth’s hand, had
3372he not at that instant chanced to glance at Carrington.
3373
3374The latter’s eyes were aglow with a vindictive triumph; as his gaze met
3375Taylor’s, his lips curved with a sneer.
3376
3377A dark passion seized Taylor—the bitter, savage rage of jealousy. The
3378antagonism he had felt for Carrington that day on the train when he had
3379heard Carrington’s voice for the first time was suddenly intensified. It
3380had been growing slowly, provoked by his knowledge of the man’s evil
3381designs on Marion Harlan. But now there had come into the first
3382antagonism a gripping lust to injure the other, a determination to balk
3383him, to defeat him, to meet him on his own ground and crush him.
3384
3385For Carrington’s sneer had caused the differences between them to become
3386sharply personal; it would make the fight that was brewing between the
3387two men not a political fight, but a fight of the spirit.
3388
3389Taylor interpreted the sneer as a challenge, and he accepted it. His
3390eyes gleamed with hatred unmistakable as they held Carrington’s; and the
3391grin on his lips was the cold, unhumorous grin of the fighter who is not
3392dismayed by odds. His voice was low and sharp, and it carried to every
3393person in the room:
3394
3395“We won’t shake, Danforth; you are not particular enough about the
3396character of your friends!”
3397
3398The look was significant, and it compelled the eyes of all of Taylor’s
3399friends, so that Carrington instantly found himself the center of
3400interest.
3401
3402However, he did not change color; on his face a bland smile testified to
3403his entire indifference to what Taylor or Taylor’s friends thought of
3404him.
3405
3406Taylor grinned mirthlessly at the judge, spoke shortly to Norton, and
3407led the way out through the front door, followed by a number of his
3408friends.
3409
3410Norton took Taylor into his office, adjoining the courthouse, and threw
3411himself into a chair, grumbling profanely. Outside they could see the
3412crowd filing down the street, voicing its opinion of the startling
3413proceeding.
3414
3415“An election is an election,” they heard one man say—a Taylor
3416sympathizer. “What difference does it make that Taylor’s name wasn’t
3417_printed_? It’s a dawg-gone frame-up, that’s what it is!”
3418
3419But Danforth’s adherents were not lacking; and there were arguments in
3420loud, vigorous language among men who passed the door of the _Eagle_
3421office.
3422
3423“I could have printed the damned ballots, myself—if I had thought it
3424necessary,” mourned Norton. “And now we’re skinned out of it!”
3425
3426Norton’s disgust was complete and bitter; he had slid down in the chair,
3427his chin on his chest, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his
3428trousers.
3429
3430Yet his dejection had not infected Taylor; the latter’s lips were curved
3431in a faint smile, ironic and saturnine. It was plain to Norton that
3432whatever humor there was in the situation was making its appeal to
3433Taylor. The thought angered Norton, and he sat up, demanding sharply:
3434“Well, what in hell are you going to do about it?”
3435
3436Taylor grinned at the other. “Nothing, now,” he said. “We might appeal
3437to the courts, but if the law specifies that a candidate’s name must be
3438printed, the courts would sustain the governor. It looks to me, Norton,
3439as though Carrington and Danforth have the cards stacked.”
3440
3441Norton groaned and again slid down into his chair. He heard Taylor go
3442out, but he did not change his position. He sat there with his eyes
3443closed, profanely accusing himself, for he alone was to blame for the
3444complete defeat that had descended upon his candidate; and he could not
3445expect Taylor to fight a law which, though unjust and arbitrary, was the
3446only law in the Territory.
3447
3448Taylor had not gone far. He stepped into the door of the courthouse, to
3449meet Carrington, who was coming out. Danforth and Judge Littlefield were
3450talking animatedly in the rear of the room. They ceased talking when
3451they saw Taylor, and faced toward him, looking at him wonderingly.
3452
3453Carrington halted just inside the threshold of the doorway, and he, too,
3454watched Taylor curiously, though there was a bland, sneering smile on
3455his face.
3456
3457Taylor’s smile as he looked at the men was still faintly ironic, and his
3458eyes were agleam with a light that baffled the other men—they could not
3459determine just what emotion they reflected.
3460
3461And Taylor’s manner was as quietly deliberate and nonchalant as though
3462he had merely stepped into the room for a social visit. His gaze swept
3463the three men.
3464
3465“Framing up—again, eh?” he said, with drawling emphasis. “You sure did
3466a good job for a starter. I just stepped in to say a few words to
3467you—all of you. To you first, Littlefield.” And now his eyes held the
3468judge—they seemed to squint genially at the man.
3469
3470“I happen to know that our big, sleek four-flusher here”—nodding toward
3471Carrington—“came here to loot Dawes. Quite accidentally, I overheard
3472him boasting of his intentions. Danforth was sent here by Carrington
3473more than a year ago to line things up, politically. I don’t know how
3474many are in the game—and I don’t care. You are in it, Littlefield. I
3475saw that by the delight you took in informing me of the decision of the
3476attorney-general. I just stepped in to tell you that I know what is
3477going on, and to warn you that you can’t do it! You had better pull out
3478before you make an ass of yourself, Littlefield!”
3479
3480The judge’s face was crimson. “This is an outrage, Taylor!” he
3481sputtered. “I’ll have you jailed for contempt of court!”
3482
3483“Not you!” gibed Taylor, calmly. “You haven’t the nerve! I’d like
3484nothing better than to have you do it. You’re a little fuzzy dog that
3485doesn’t crawl out of its kennel until it hears the snap of its master’s
3486fingers! That’s all for you!”
3487
3488He grinned at Danforth, felinely, and the man flushed under the odd
3489gleam in the eyes that held his.
3490
3491“I can classify you with one word, Dave,” he declared; “you’re a crook!
3492That lets you out; you do what you are told!”
3493
3494He now ignored the others and faced Carrington.
3495
3496His grin faded quickly, the lips stiffening. But still there was a hint
3497of cold humor in his manner that created the impression that he was
3498completely in earnest; that he was keenly enjoying himself and that he
3499did not feel at all tragic. And yet, underlying the mask of humor,
3500Carrington saw the passionate hatred Taylor felt for him.
3501
3502Carrington sneered. He attempted to smile, but the malevolent bitterness
3503of his passions turned the smile into a hideous smirk. He had hated
3504Taylor at first sight; and now, with the jealousy provoked by the
3505knowledge that Taylor had turned his eyes toward Marion Harlan, the
3506hatred had become a lust to destroy the other.
3507
3508Before Taylor could speak, Carrington stepped toward him, thrusting his
3509face close to Taylor’s. The man was in the grip of a mighty rage that
3510bloated his face, that made his breath come in great labored gasps. He
3511had not meant to so boldly betray his hatred, but the violence of his
3512passions drove him on.
3513
3514He knew that Taylor was baiting him, mocking him, taunting him; that
3515Taylor’s words to the judge and to Danforth had been uttered with the
3516grimly humorous purpose of arousing the men to some unwise and
3517precipitate action; he knew that Taylor was enjoying the confusion he
3518had brought.
3519
3520But Carrington had lost his self-control.
3521
3522Without a word, but with a smothered imprecation that issued gutturally
3523from between his clenched teeth, he swung a fist with bitter malignance
3524at Taylor’s face.
3525
3526The blow did not land, for Taylor, self-possessed and alert, had been
3527expecting it. He slipped his head sidewise slightly, evading the fist by
3528a narrow margin, and, tensed, his muscles taut, he drove his own right
3529fist upward, heavily.
3530
3531Carrington, reeling forward under the impetus of the force he had
3532expended, ran fairly into the fist. It crashed to the point of his jaw
3533and he was unconscious, rigid, and upright on his feet in the instant
3534before he sagged and tumbled headlong out through the open doorway into
3535the street.
3536
3537With a bound, his face set in a mirthless grin, Taylor was after him,
3538landing beyond him in the windrowed dust at the edge of the sidewalk,
3539ready and willing to administer further punishment.
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544CHAPTER XIV—THE FACE OF A FIGHTER
3545
3546
3547Slouching in his chair, in an attitude of complete dejection, Neil
3548Norton was glumly digesting the dregs of defeat.
3549
3550The _Eagle_ office adjoined the courthouse. Both were one-story frame
3551structures, flimsy, with one thin wall between them; and to Norton’s
3552ears as he sat with his unpleasant thoughts, came the sound of voices,
3553muffled, but resonant. Someone was speaking with force and insistence.
3554Norton attuned his ears to the voice. It was then he discovered there
3555was only one voice, and that Taylor’s.
3556
3557He sat erect, both hands gripping the arms of his chair. Then he got up,
3558walked to the front door of the _Eagle_ office, and looked out. He was
3559just in time to see Carrington tumble out through the door of the
3560courthouse and land heavily on the sidewalk in front of the building.
3561Immediately afterward he saw Taylor follow.
3562
3563Norton exclaimed his astonishment, and he saw Taylor turn toward him, a
3564broad, mirthless grin on his face.
3565
3566“Good Heavens!” breathed Norton, “he’s started a ruckus!”
3567
3568Taylor had not moved. He was looking at Norton when a man leaped from
3569the door of the courthouse, straight at him. It was Danforth, his face
3570hideous with rage.
3571
3572Taylor sensed the movement, wheeled, stumbled, and lost his balance just
3573as Danforth crashed against him. The two men went down in a heap into
3574the deep dust of the street, rolling over and over.
3575
3576Danforth’s impetus had given him the initial advantage, and he was
3577making the most of it. His fists were working into Taylor’s face as they
3578rolled in the dust, his arms swinging like flails. Taylor, caught almost
3579unprepared, could not get into a position to defend himself. He shielded
3580his face somewhat by holding his chin close to his chest and hunching
3581his shoulders up; but Danforth landed some blows.
3582
3583There came an instant, however, when Taylor’s surprise over the assault
3584changed to resentment over the punishment he was receiving. He had
3585struck Carrington in self-defense, and he had not expected the attack by
3586Danforth.
3587
3588Norton, also surprised, saw that his friend was at a disadvantage, and
3589he was running forward to help him when he saw Taylor roll on top of
3590Danforth.
3591
3592To Norton’s astonishment, Taylor did not seem to be in a vicious humor,
3593despite the blows Danforth had landed on him. Taylor came out of the
3594smother with a grin on his face, wide and exultant, and distinctly
3595visible to Norton in spite of the streaks of dust that covered it.
3596Taylor shook his head, his hair erupting a heavy cloud. Then he got up,
3597permitting Danforth to do likewise.
3598
3599Regaining his feet, Danforth threw himself headlong toward Taylor,
3600cursing, his face working with malignant rage. When Taylor hit him the
3601dust flew from Danforth’s clothes as it rolls from a dirty carpet flayed
3602with a beater. Danforth halted, his knees sagged, his head wabbled. But
3603Taylor gave him a slight respite, and he came on again.
3604
3605This time Taylor met him with a smother of sharp, deadening uppercuts
3606that threw the man backward, his mouth open, his eyes closed. He fell,
3607sagging backward, his knees unjointed, without a sound.
3608
3609And now Norton was not the only spectator. Far up the street a man had
3610emerged from a doorway. He saw the erupting volcanoes of dust in the
3611street, and he ran back, shouting, “Fight! Fight!”
3612
3613Dawes had seen many fights, and had grown accustomed to them. But there
3614is always novelty in another, and long before Danforth had received the
3615blows that had rendered him inactive, nearly all the doors of Dawes’s
3616buildings were vomiting men. They came, seemingly, in endless streams,
3617in groups, in twos and singly, eager, excited, all the streams
3618converging at the street in front of the courthouse.
3619
3620Mindful of the ethics in an affair of this kind, the crowd kept
3621considerately at a distance, permitting the fighting men to continue at
3622their work without interference, with plenty of room for their energetic
3623movements.
3624
3625Word ran from lip to lip that Taylor, stung by the knowledge that he had
3626been robbed of the office to which he had been elected, had attacked
3627Carrington and Danforth with the grim purpose of punishing them
3628personally for their misdeeds.
3629
3630Taylor was aware of the gathering crowd. When he had delivered the blows
3631that had finished his political rival, he saw the dense mass of men in
3632the street around him; and he felt that all Dawes had assembled.
3633
3634There was still no rancor in Taylor’s heart; the same savage humor which
3635had driven him into the courthouse to acquaint Carrington and the others
3636with his knowledge of their designs, still gripped him. He had not meant
3637to force a fight, but neither had he any intention of permitting
3638Carrington and Danforth to inflict physical punishment upon him.
3639
3640But a malicious devil had seized him. He knew that what he had done
3641would be magnified and distorted by Carrington, Danforth, and the judge;
3642that they would charge him with the blame for it; that he faced the
3643probability of a jail sentence for defending himself. And he was
3644determined to complete the work he had started.
3645
3646Therefore, having disposed of Danforth, he grinned at the eager, excited
3647faces that hemmed him about, and wheeled toward Carrington.
3648
3649He was just in time. For Carrington, not badly hurt by Taylor’s blow,
3650which had catapulted him out of the door of the courthouse, had been
3651standing back a little, awaiting an opportunity. The swiftness of
3652Taylor’s movements had prevented interference by Carrington; but now,
3653with Danforth down, Carrington saw his chance.
3654
3655Without a word, Carrington lunged forward. They met with a shock that
3656caused the dry dust to splay and spume upward and outward in thin,
3657minute streaks like the leaping, spraying waters of a fountain. They
3658were lost, momentarily, in a haze, as the dust fell and enveloped them.
3659
3660They emerged from the blot presently, Carrington staggering, his chin on
3661his chest, his eyes glazed—Taylor crowding him closely. For while they
3662had been lost in the smother of dust, Taylor had landed a deadening
3663uppercut on the big man’s chin.
3664
3665The big man’s brain was befogged; and yet he still retained presence of
3666mind enough to shield his chin from another of those terrific blows. He
3667had crossed his arms over the lower part of his face, fending off
3668Taylor’s fists with his elbows.
3669
3670A Danforth man in the crowd called on Carrington to “wallop” Taylor, and
3671the big man’s answering grin indicated that he was not as badly hurt as
3672he seemed.
3673
3674Almost instantly he demonstrated that, for when Taylor, still following
3675him, momentarily left an opening, Carrington stepped quickly forward and
3676struck—his big arm flashing out with amazing rapidity.
3677
3678The heavy fist landed high on Taylor’s head above the ear. It was not a
3679blow that would have finished the fight, even had it landed lower, but
3680it served to warn Taylor that his antagonist was still strong, and he
3681went in more warily.
3682
3683The advantage of the fight was all with Taylor. For Taylor was cool and
3684deliberate, while Carrington, raging over the blows he had received, and
3685in the clutch of a bitter desire to destroy his enemy, wasted much
3686energy in swinging wildly.
3687
3688The inaccuracy of Carrington’s hitting amused Taylor; the men in the
3689crowd about him could see his lips writhing in a vicious smile at
3690Carrington’s efforts.
3691
3692Carrington landed some blows. But he had lived luxuriously during the
3693later years of his life; his muscles had deteriorated, and though he was
3694still strong, his strength was not to be compared with that of the
3695out-of-door man whose clean and simple habits had toughened his muscles
3696until they were equal to any emergency.
3697
3698And so the battle went slowly but surely against Carrington. Fighting
3699desperately, and showing by the expression of his face that he knew his
3700chances were small, he tried to work at close quarters. He kept coming
3701in stubbornly, blocking some blows, taking others; and finally he
3702succeeded in getting his arms around Taylor.
3703
3704The crowd had by this time become intensely partisan. At first it had
3705been silent, but now it became clamorous. There were some Danforth men,
3706and knowing Danforth to be aligned with Carrington—because, it seemed
3707to them, Carrington was taking Danforth’s end of the fight—they howled
3708for the big man to “give it to him!” And they grew bitter when they saw
3709that despite Carrington’s best efforts, and their own verbal support of
3710him, Carrington was doomed to defeat.
3711
3712Taylor’s admirers vastly outnumbered Carrington’s. They did not find it
3713necessary to shout advice to their champion; but they shouted and roared
3714with approval as Taylor, driving forward, the grin still on his face,
3715striking heavily and blocking deftly, kept his enemy retreating before
3716him.
3717
3718Carrington, locking his arms around Taylor, hugged him desperately for
3719some seconds—until he recovered his breath, and until his head cleared,
3720and he could fix objects firmly in his vision; and then he heaved
3721mightily, swung Taylor from his feet and tried to throw him. Taylor’s
3722feet could get no leverage, but his arms were still free, and with both
3723of them he hammered the big man’s head until Carrington, in insane rage,
3724threw Taylor from him.
3725
3726Taylor landed a little off balance, and before he could set himself,
3727Carrington threw himself forward. He swung malignantly, the blow landing
3728glancingly on Taylor’s head, staggering him. His feet struck an
3729obstruction and he went to one knee, Carrington striking at him as he
3730tried to rise.
3731
3732The blow missed, Carrington turning clear around from the force of the
3733blow and tumbling headlong into the dust near Taylor.
3734
3735They clambered to their feet at the same instant, and in the next they
3736came together with a shock that made them both reel backward. And then,
3737still grinning, Taylor stepped lightly forward. Paying no attention to
3738Carrington’s blows, he shot in several short, terrific, deadening
3739uppercuts that landed fairly on the big man’s chin. Carrington’s hands
3740dropped to his sides, his knees doubled and he fell limply forward into
3741the dust of the street where he lay, huddled and unconscious, while
3742turmoil raged over him.
3743
3744For the Danforth men in the crowd had yielded to rage over the defeat of
3745their favorites. They had seen Danforth go down under the terrific
3746punishment meted out to him by Taylor; they had seen Carrington suffer
3747the same fate. Several of them drove forward, muttering profane threats.
3748
3749Norton, pale and watchful, fearing just such a contingency, shoved
3750forward to the center, shouting:
3751
3752“Hold on, men! None of that! It’s a fair fight! Keep off, there—do you
3753hear?”
3754
3755A score of Taylor men surged forward to Norton’s side; the crowd split,
3756forming two sections—one group of men massing near Norton, the other
3757congregating around a tall man who seemed to be the leader of their
3758faction. A number of other men—the cautious and faint-hearted element
3759which had no personal animus to spur it to participation in what seemed
3760to threaten to develop into a riot—retreated a short distance up the
3761street and stood watching, morbidly curious.
3762
3763But though violence, concerted and deadly, was imminent, it was delayed.
3764For Taylor had not yet finished, and the crowd was curiously following
3765his movements.
3766
3767Taylor was a picturesquely ludicrous figure. He was covered with dust
3768from head to foot; his face was streaked with it; his hair was full of
3769it; it had been ground into his cheeks, and where blood from a cut on
3770his forehead had trickled to his right temple, the dust was matted until
3771it resembled crimson mud.
3772
3773And yet the man was still smiling. It was not a smile at which most men
3774care to look when its owner’s attention is definitely centered upon
3775them; it was a smile full of grimly humorous malice and determination;
3776the smile of the fighting man who cares nothing for consequences.
3777
3778The concerted action which had threatened was, by the tacit consent of
3779the prospective belligerents, postponed for the instant. The gaze of
3780every partisan—and of all the non-partisans—was directed at Taylor.
3781
3782He had not yet finished. For an instant he stood looking down at
3783Carrington and Danforth—both now beginning to recover from their
3784chastisement, and sitting up in the dust gazing dizzily about them—then
3785with a chuckle, grim and malicious, Taylor dove toward the door of the
3786courthouse, where Littlefield was standing.
3787
3788The judge had been stunned by the ferocity of the action he had
3789witnessed. Whatever judicial dignity had been his had been whelmed by
3790the paralyzing fear that had gripped him, and he stood, holding to the
3791door-jambs, nerveless, motionless.
3792
3793He saw Taylor start toward him; he saw a certain light leaping in the
3794man’s eyes, and he cringed and cried out in dread.
3795
3796But he had not the power to retreat from the menace that was approaching
3797him. He threw out his hands impotently as Taylor reached him, as though
3798to protest physically. But Taylor ignored the movement, reaching upward,
3799a dusty finger and thumb closing on the judge’s right ear.
3800
3801There was a jerk, a shrill cry of pain from the judge, and then he was
3802led into the street, near where Carrington and Danforth had fallen, and
3803twisted ungently around until he faced the crowd.
3804
3805“Men,” said Taylor, in the silence that greeted him as he stood erect,
3806his finger and thumb still gripping the judge’s ear, “Judge Littlefield
3807is going to say a few words to you. He’s going to tell you who started
3808this ruckus—so there won’t be any nonsense about actions in contempt of
3809court. Deals like this are pulled off better when the court takes the
3810public into its confidence. Who started this thing, judge? Did I?”
3811
3812“No—o,” was Littlefield’s hesitating reply.
3813
3814“Who did start it?”
3815
3816“Mr. Carrington.”
3817
3818“You saw him?”
3819
3820“Yes.”
3821
3822“What did he do?”
3823
3824“He—er—struck at you.”
3825
3826“And Danforth?”
3827
3828“He attacked you while you were in the street.”
3829
3830“And I’m not to blame?”
3831
3832“No.”
3833
3834Taylor grinned and released the judge’s ear. “That’s all, gentlemen,” he
3835said; “court is dismissed!”
3836
3837The judge said nothing as he walked toward the door of the courthouse.
3838Nor did Carrington and Danforth speak as they followed the judge. Both
3839Carrington and Danforth seemed to have had enough fighting for one day.
3840
3841The victor looked around at the faces in the crowd that were turned to
3842his, and his grin grew eloquent.
3843
3844“Looks like we’re going to have a mighty peaceable administration,
3845boys!” he said. His grin included Norton, at whom he deliberately
3846winked. Then he turned, mounted his horse—which had stood docilely near
3847by during the excitement, and which whinnied as he approached it—and
3848rode down the street to the Dawes bank, before which he dismounted. Then
3849he went to his rooms on the floor above, washed and changed his clothes,
3850and attended to the bruises on his face. Later, looking out of the
3851window, he saw the crowd slowly dispersing; and still later he opened
3852the door on Neil Norton, who came in, deep concern on his face.
3853
3854“You’ve started something, Squint. After you left I went into the
3855_Eagle_ office. The partition is thin, and I could hear Carrington
3856raising hell in there. You look out; he’ll try to play some dog’s trick
3857on you now! There’s going to be the devil to pay in this man’s town!”
3858
3859Taylor laughed. “How long does it take for a sprained ankle to mend,
3860Norton?”
3861
3862Norton looked sharply at Taylor’s feet.
3863
3864“You sprain one of yours?” he asked.
3865
3866“Lord, no!” denied Taylor. “I was just wondering. How long?” he
3867insisted.
3868
3869“About two weeks. Say, Squint, your brain wasn’t injured in that ruckus,
3870was it?” he asked solicitously.
3871
3872“It’s as good as it ever was.”
3873
3874“I don’t believe it!” declared Norton. “Here you’ve started something
3875serious, and you go to rambling about sprained ankles.”
3876
3877“Norton,” said Taylor slowly, “a sprained ankle is a mighty serious
3878thing—when you’ve forgotten which one it was!”
3879
3880“What in——”
3881
3882“And,” resumed Taylor, “when you don’t know but that she took particular
3883pains to make a mental note of it. If I’d wrap the left one up, now, and
3884she knew it was the right one that had been hurt—or if I’d wrap up the
3885right one, and she knew it was the wrong one, why she’d likely——”
3886
3887_“She?”_ groaned Norton, looking at his friend with bulging eyes that
3888were haunted by a fear that Taylor’s brain _had_ cracked under the
3889strain of the excitement he had undergone. He remembered now, that
3890Taylor _had_ acted in a peculiar manner during the fight; that he had
3891grinned all through it when he should have been in deadly earnest.
3892
3893“Plumb loco!” he muttered.
3894
3895And then he saw Taylor grinning broadly at him; and he was suddenly
3896struck with the conviction that Taylor was not insane; that he was in
3897possession of some secret that he was trying to confide to his friend,
3898and that he had begun obliquely. Norton drew a deep breath of relief.
3899
3900“Lord!” he sighed, “you sure had me going. And you don’t know which
3901ankle you sprained?”
3902
3903“I’ve clean forgot. And now she’ll find out that I’ve lied to her.”
3904
3905“_She?_” said Norton significantly.
3906
3907“Marion Harlan,” grinned Taylor.
3908
3909Norton caught his breath with a gasp. “You mean you’ve fallen in love
3910with her? And that you’ve made her—Oh, Lord! What a situation! Don’t
3911you know her uncle and Carrington are in cahoots in this deal?”
3912
3913“It’s my recollection that I told you about that the day I got back,”
3914Taylor reminded him. And then Taylor told him the story of the bandaged
3915ankle.
3916
3917When Taylor concluded, Norton lay back in his chair and regarded his
3918friend blankly.
3919
3920“And you mean to tell me that all the time you were fighting Carrington
3921and Danforth you were thinking about that ankle?”
3922
3923“Mostly all the time,” Taylor admitted.
3924
3925Norton made a gesture of impotence. “Well,” he said, “if a man can keep
3926his mind on a girl while two men are trying to knock hell out of him,
3927he’s sure got a bad case. And all I’ve got to say is that you’re going
3928to have a lovely ruckus!”
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933CHAPTER XV—GLOOM—AND PLANS
3934
3935
3936Elam Parsons sat all day on the wide porch of the big house nursing his
3937resentment. He was hunched up in the chair, his shoulders were slouched
3938forward, his chin resting on the wings of his high, starched collar, his
3939lips in a pout, his eyes sullen and gleaming with malevolence.
3940
3941Parsons was beginning to recover from his astonishment over the attack
3942Carrington had made on him. He saw now that he should have known
3943Carrington was the kind of man he had shown himself to be; for now that
3944Parsons reflected, he remembered little things that Carrington had done
3945which should have warned him.
3946
3947Carrington had never been a real friend. Carrington had used him—that
3948was it; Carrington had made him think he was an important member of the
3949partnership, and he had thought so himself. Now he understood
3950Carrington. Carrington was selfish and cruel—more, Carrington was a
3951beast and an ingrate. For it had been Parsons who had made it possible
3952for Carrington to succeed—for he had used Parsons’ money all
3953along—having had very little himself.
3954
3955So Parsons reflected, knowing, however, that he had not the courage to
3956oppose Carrington. He feared Carrington; he had always feared him, but
3957now his fear had become terror—and hate. For Parsons could still feel
3958the man’s fingers at his throat; and as he sat there on the porch his
3959own fingers stroked the spot, while in his heart flamed a great yearning
3960for vengeance.
3961
3962 * * * * *
3963
3964Marion Harlan had got up this morning feeling rather more interested in
3965the big house than she had felt the day before—or upon any day that she
3966had occupied it. She, like Parsons, had awakened with a presentiment of
3967impending pleasure. But, unlike Parsons, she found it impossible to
3968definitely select an outstanding incident or memory upon which to base
3969her expectations.
3970
3971Her anticipations seemed to be broad and inclusive—like a clear,
3972unobstructed sunset, with an effulgent glow that seemed to embrace the
3973whole world, warming it, bringing a great peace.
3974
3975For upon this morning, suddenly awakening to the pure, white light that
3976shone into her window, she was conscious of a feeling of satisfaction
3977with life that was strange and foreign—a thing that she had never
3978before experienced. Always there had been a shadow of the past to darken
3979her vision of the future, but this morning that shadow seemed to have
3980vanished.
3981
3982For a long time she could not understand, and she snuggled up in bed,
3983her brow thoughtfully furrowed, trying to solve the mystery. It was not
3984until she got up and was looking out of the window at the mighty basin
3985in which—like a dot of brown in a lake of emerald green—clustered the
3986buildings of the Arrow ranch, that knowledge in an overwhelming flood
3987assailed her. Then a crimson flush stained her cheeks, her eyes glowed
3988with happiness, and she clasped her hands and stood rigid for a long
3989time.
3990
3991She knew now. A name sprang to her lips, and she murmured it aloud,
3992softly: “Quinton Taylor.”
3993
3994Later she appeared to Martha—a vision that made the negro woman gasp
3995with amazement.
3996
3997“What happen to you, honey? You-all git good news? You look light an’
3998airy—like you’s goin’ to fly!”
3999
4000“I’ve decided to like this place—after all, Martha. I—I thought at
4001first that I wouldn’t, but I have changed my mind.”
4002
4003Martha looked sharply at her, a sidelong glance that had quite a little
4004subtle knowledge in it.
4005
4006“I reckon that ‘Squint’ Taylor make a good many girls change their mind,
4007honey—he, he, he!”
4008
4009“Martha!”
4010
4011“Doan you git ’sturbed, now, honey. Martha shuah knows the signs. I done
4012discover the signs a long while ago—when I fall in love with a worfless
4013nigger in St. Louis. He shuah did captivate me, honey. I done try to
4014wiggle out of it—but ’tain’t no use. Face the fac’s, Martha, face the
4015fac’s, I tell myself—an’ I done it. Ain’t no use for to try an’ fool
4016the fac’s, honey—not one bit of use! The ol’ fac’ he look at you an’
4017say: ‘Doan you try to wiggle ’way from me; I’s heah, an’ heah I’s goin’
4018to stay!’ That Squint man ain’t no lady-killer, honey, but he’s shuah a
4019he-man from the groun’ up!”
4020
4021Marion escaped Martha as quickly as she could; and after breakfast began
4022systematically to rearrange the furniture to suit her artistic ideals.
4023
4024Martha helped, but not again did Martha refer to Quinton
4025Taylor—something in Marion’s manner warned her that she could trespass
4026too far in that direction.
4027
4028Some time during the morning Marion saw Parsons ride up and dismount at
4029the stable door; and later she heard him cross the porch. She looked out
4030of one of the front windows and saw him huddled in a big rocking-chair,
4031and she wondered at the depression that sat so heavily upon him.
4032
4033The girl did not pause in her work long enough to partake of the lunch
4034that Martha set for her—so interested was she; and therefore she did
4035not know whether or not Parsons came into the house. But along about
4036four o’clock in the afternoon, wearied of her task, Marion entered the
4037kitchen. From Martha she learned that Parsons had not stirred from the
4038chair on the porch during the entire day.
4039
4040Concerned, Marion went out to him.
4041
4042Parsons did not hear her; he was still moodily and resentfully reviewing
4043the incident of the morning.
4044
4045He started when the girl placed a gentle hand on one of his shoulders,
4046seeming to cringe from her touch; then he looked up at her suddenly.
4047
4048“What do you want?” he demanded.
4049
4050“Don’t you feel well, Uncle Elam?” she inquired. Her hand rose from his
4051shoulder to his head, and her fingers ran through his hair with a light,
4052gentle touch that made him shiver with repugnance. There were times when
4053Parsons hated this living image of his brother-in-law with a fervor that
4054seemed to sear his heart. Now, however, pity for himself had rather
4055dulled the edge of his hatred. A calamity had befallen him; he was
4056crushed under it; and the sympathy of one whom he hated was not entirely
4057undesirable.
4058
4059No sense of guilt assailed the man. He had never betrayed his hate to
4060her, and he would not do so now. That wasn’t his way. He had always
4061masked it from her, making her think he felt an affection for her which
4062was rather the equal of that which custom required a man should feel for
4063a niece. Yet he had always hated her.
4064
4065“I’m not exactly well,” he muttered. “It’s the damned atmosphere, I
4066suppose.”
4067
4068“Martha tells me that it _does_ affect some persons,” said the girl.
4069“And lack of appetite seems to be one of the first symptoms—in your
4070case. For Martha tells me you have not eaten.”
4071
4072The girl’s soft voice irritated Parsons.
4073
4074“Go away!” he ordered crossly; “I want to think!”
4075
4076It was not the first time the girl had endured his moods. She smiled
4077tolerantly, and softly withdrew, busying herself inside the house.
4078
4079Parsons did not eat supper; he slunk off to bed and lay for hours in his
4080room brooding over the thing that had happened to him.
4081
4082He got up early the next morning, mounted his horse and left the house
4083before Marion could get a glimpse of him. It was still rather early when
4084he reached Dawes. There, in a saloon, he overheard the story of the
4085fight in the street in front of the courthouse, and with tingling
4086eagerness and venomous satisfaction he listened to a man telling another
4087of the terrible punishment inflicted upon Carrington by Quinton Taylor.
4088
4089Parsons did not go to see Carrington, for he feared a repetition of
4090Carrington’s savage rage, should he permit the latter to observe his
4091satisfaction over the incident of yesterday. He knew he could not face
4092Carrington and conceal the gloating triumph that gripped him.
4093
4094So he returned to the big house. And for the greater part of the day he
4095sat in the rocker on the porch, his soul filled with a vindictive joy.
4096
4097He ate heartily, too; and his manner indicated that he had quite
4098recovered from the indisposition that had affected him the previous day.
4099He even smiled at Marion when she told him he was “looking better.”
4100
4101But his bitter yearning for vengeance had not been satisfied by the
4102knowledge that Taylor had thrashed Carrington. He knew, now that
4103Carrington had ruthlessly cast him aside, that he was no longer to
4104figure importantly in the scheme to loot the town; he knew that it was
4105Carrington’s intention to rob him of every dollar he had entrusted to
4106the man. He knew, too, that Carrington would not hesitate to murder him
4107should he offer the slightest objection, or should he make any visible
4108resistance to Carrington’s plans.
4109
4110But Parsons was determined to be revenged upon Carrington, and he was
4111convinced that he could secure his revenge without boldly announcing his
4112plans.
4113
4114As for that, he had no plans. But while sitting in the rocker on the
4115porch during the long afternoon, the vindictive light in his eyes
4116suddenly deepened, and he grinned evilly.
4117
4118That night after supper he exerted himself to be agreeable to Marion.
4119During the interval between sunset and darkness he walked with the girl
4120along the edge of the butte above the big valley which held the
4121irrigation dam. And while standing in a timber grove at the edge of the
4122butte, he questioned her deftly about the news she had received of her
4123father, and she told him of her visits to the Arrow.
4124
4125He had watched her narrowly, and he saw the flush that came into her
4126cheeks each time Taylor was mentioned.
4127
4128“He is a remarkably forceful man,” he observed once, when he mentioned
4129Taylor. “And if I am not mistaken, Carrington is going to have his hands
4130full with him.”
4131
4132“What do you mean? Do you mean that Mr. Taylor is not in sympathy with
4133Carrington’s plans concerning Dawes?”
4134
4135“I mean just that. And if you had happened to be in Dawes yesterday you
4136might have witnessed a demonstration of Taylor’s lack of sympathy with
4137Carrington’s plans. For”—and now Parsons’ eyes gleamed
4138maliciously—“after Judge Littlefield, acting under instructions from
4139the governor, had refused to administer the oath of office to
4140Taylor—inducting his rival, Danforth, into the position instead——”
4141
4142Here the girl interrupted, and Parsons was forced to relate the tale in
4143its entirety.
4144
4145“Uncle Elam,” she said when Parsons paused, “are you certain that
4146Carrington’s intentions toward Dawes are honorable?”
4147
4148Parsons smiled crookedly behind a palm, and then uncertainly at the
4149girl.
4150
4151“I don’t know, Marion. Carrington is a rather hard man to gauge. He has
4152always been mighty uncommunicative and headstrong. He is getting
4153ruthless and domineering, too. I am rather afraid—that is, my dear, I
4154am beginning to believe we made a mistake in Carrington. He doesn’t seem
4155to be the sort of man we thought him to be. If he were like that man
4156Taylor, now——” He paused and glanced covertly at the girl, noting the
4157glow in her eyes.
4158
4159“Yes,” he resumed, “Taylor _is_ a man. My dear,” he added
4160confidentially, “there is going to be trouble in Dawes—I am convinced
4161of that; trouble between Carrington and Taylor. Taylor thrashed
4162Carrington yesterday, but Carrington isn’t the kind to give up. I have
4163withdrawn from active participation in the affairs that brought me here.
4164I am not going to take sides. I don’t care who wins. That may sound
4165disloyal to you—but look here!” He showed her several black and blue
4166marks on his throat. “Carrington did that—the day before yesterday.
4167Choked me.” His voice quavered with self-pity, whereat the girl caught
4168her breath in quick sympathy and bent to examine the marks. When she
4169stood erect again Parsons saw her eyes flashing with indignation, and he
4170knew that whatever respect the girl had had for Carrington had been
4171forever destroyed.
4172
4173“Oh!” she said, “why did he choke you?”
4174
4175“Because I frankly told him I did not approve of his methods,” lied
4176Parsons, smirking virtuously. “He showed his hand, unmistakably, and his
4177methods mean evil to Dawes.”
4178
4179The girl stiffened. “I shall go directly to Dawes and tell Carrington
4180what I think of him!” she declared.
4181
4182“No—for God’s sake!” protested Parsons. “He would kill me! He would
4183know, instantly, that I had been talking. My life would not be worth a
4184snap of your fingers! Don’t let on that I have said _anything_ to you!
4185Let him come here, and treat him as you have always treated him. But
4186warn Taylor. Taylor may know something—it is certain he suspects
4187something—but Taylor will not know everything. Make a friend of Taylor,
4188my dear. Go to him—visit his ranch—as much as you like. But if
4189Carrington says anything to you about going there, tell him I opposed
4190it. That will mislead him.”
4191
4192When Parsons and the girl reached the house, Parsons stood near the
4193kitchen door and watched her enter. He did not go in, himself; he walked
4194around to the front and sat on the edge of the porch, grinning
4195maliciously. For he knew something of the tortures of jealousy, and he
4196was convinced that he had added something to the antagonism that already
4197had been the cause of one clash between Carrington and Taylor. And
4198Parsons was convinced that both he and Carrington had made a mistake in
4199planning to loot Dawes; that despite the connivance of the governor and
4200Judge Littlefield, Quinton Taylor would defeat them.
4201
4202Parsons might lose his money; but the point was that Carrington would
4203also lose. And if Parsons was wise and cautious—and did not antagonize
4204Taylor—there was a chance that he might gain more through his
4205friendship—a professed friendship—for Taylor, than he would have won
4206had he been loyal to Carrington. At the least, he would have the
4207satisfaction of working against Carrington in the dark. And to a man of
4208Parsons’ character that was a satisfaction not to be lightly considered.
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213CHAPTER XVI—A MAN BECOMES A BRUTE
4214
4215
4216During the days that Parsons had passed nursing his resentment,
4217Carrington had been busy. Despite the bruises that marked his face
4218(which, by the way, a clever barber had disguised until they were hardly
4219visible) Carrington appeared in public as though nothing had happened.
4220
4221The fight at the courthouse had aroused the big man to the point of
4222volcanic action. The lust for power that had seized him; the implacable
4223resolution to rule, to win, to have his own way in all things; his
4224passionate hatred of Taylor; his determination to destroy anyone who got
4225in his path—these were the forces that drove him.
4226
4227Taylor had brought matters to a sudden and unexpected crisis. Carrington
4228had planned to begin his campaign differently, to insinuate himself into
4229the political life of Dawes; and he had gone to the courthouse intending
4230to keep in the background, but Taylor had forced him into the open.
4231
4232Therefore, Carrington had no choice, and he instantly accepted Taylor’s
4233challenge. After reentering the courthouse, following the departure of
4234Taylor, Carrington had insisted that Judge Littlefield have Taylor taken
4235into custody on a contempt of court charge. Littlefield had flatly
4236refused, and the resulting argument had been what Neil Norton had
4237overheard. But Littlefield had not yielded to Carrington’s insistence.
4238
4239“That would be ridiculous, after what has happened,” the judge declared.
4240“The whole country would be laughing at us. More, you can see that
4241public sentiment is with Taylor. And he forced me to publicly admit that
4242you were to blame. I simply won’t do it!”
4243
4244“All right,” grinned Carrington, darkly; “I’ll find another way to get
4245him!”
4246
4247And so for the instant Carrington dismissed Taylor from his thoughts,
4248devoting his attention to the task of organizing his forces for the
4249campaign he was to make against the town.
4250
4251He held many conferences with Danforth and with three of five men who
4252had been elected to the new city council—that political body having
4253also been provided under the new charter. Three of the
4254members—Cartwright, Ellis, and Warden—were Danforth men, cogs of that
4255secret machine which for more than a year Danforth had been perfecting
4256at Carrington’s orders.
4257
4258Some officials were appointed by Mayor Danforth—at Carrington’s
4259direction; a chief of police, a municipal judge, a town clerk, a
4260treasurer—and a host of other office-holders inevitable to a system of
4261government which permits the practice.
4262
4263Carrington dominated every conference; he made it plain that he was to
4264rule Dawes—that Danforth and all the others were subject to his orders.
4265
4266Only one day was required to perfect Carrington’s organization, and on
4267Thursday evening, with everything running smoothly, Carrington appeared
4268in the palm-decorated foyer of the Castle, a smugly complacent smile on
4269his face. For he had won the first battle in the war he was to wage. To
4270be sure, he had been worsted in a physical encounter with Taylor, as the
4271bruises still on his face indicated, but he intended to repay Taylor for
4272that thrashing—and his lips went into an ugly pout when his thoughts
4273dwelt upon the man.
4274
4275He had almost forgotten Parsons; he did not think of the other until
4276about eight o’clock in the evening, when, with Danforth in the barroom
4277of the Castle, Danforth mentioned his name. Then Carrington remembered
4278that he had not seen Parsons since he had throttled the man. He ordered
4279another drink, not permitting Danforth to see his eyes, which were
4280glowing with a flame that would have betrayed him.
4281
4282“This is good-night,” he said to Danforth as he raised his glass. “I’ve
4283got to see Parsons tonight.”
4284
4285Yet it was not Parsons who was uppermost in his mind when he left the
4286Castle, mounted on his horse; the face of Marion Harlan was in the
4287mental picture he drew as he rode toward the Huggins house, and there
4288ran in his brain a reckless thought—which had been uttered to Parsons
4289at the instant before his fingers had closed around the latter’s throat
4290a few days before:
4291
4292“I was born a thousand years too late, Parsons! I am a robber baron
4293brought down to date—modernized. I believe that in me flows the blood
4294of a pirate, a savage, or an ancient king. I have all the instincts of a
4295tribal chief whose principles are to rule or ruin! I’ll have no law out
4296here but my own desires!”
4297
4298And tonight Carrington’s desires were for the girl who had accompanied
4299him to Dawes; the girl who had stirred his passions as no woman had ever
4300stirred them, and who—now that he had seized the town’s government—was
4301to be as much his vassal as Parsons, Danforth—or any of them. He
4302grinned as he rode toward the Huggins house—a grin that grew to a laugh
4303as he rode up the drive toward the house; low, vibrant, hideous with its
4304threat of unrestrained passion.
4305
4306The night had been too beautiful for Marion Harlan to remain indoors,
4307and so, after darkness had swathed the big valley back of the house, she
4308had slipped out, noting that her uncle had gone again to the chair on
4309the front porch. She had walked with Parsons along the butte above the
4310valley, but she wanted to be alone now, to view the beauties without
4311danger of interruption. Above all, she wanted to think.
4312
4313For the news that Parsons had communicated to her had affected her
4314strangely; she felt that her uncle’s revelations of Carrington’s
4315character amounted to a vindication of her own secret opinion of the
4316man.
4317
4318He had been a volcanic wooer, and she had distrusted him all along. She
4319had never permitted that distrust to appear on the surface, however, out
4320of respect for her uncle—for she had always thought he and Carrington
4321were firm friends. She saw now, though, that she had always suspected
4322Carrington of being just what her uncle’s revelation had proved him to
4323be—a ruthless, selfish, domineering brute of a man, who would have no
4324mercy upon any person who got in his way.
4325
4326Reflecting upon his actions during the days she had known him in
4327Westwood—and upon his glances when sometimes she had caught him looking
4328at her, and at other times when his gaze—bold, and flaming with naked
4329passion—had been fixed upon her, she shuddered, comparing him with
4330Quinton Taylor, quiet, polite, and considerate.
4331
4332Loyally, she hated Carrington now for the things he had done to Parsons.
4333She mentally vowed that the next time she saw Carrington she would tell
4334him exactly what she thought of him, regardless of the effect her frank
4335opinion might have on her uncle’s fortunes.
4336
4337But still she had not come to the edge of the butte for the purpose of
4338devoting her entire thoughts to Carrington; there was another face that
4339obtruded insistently in the mental pictures she drew—Quinton Taylor’s.
4340And she found a grass knoll at the edge of the butte, twisted around so
4341that she could look over the edge of the butte and into the big basin
4342that slumbered somberly in the mysterious darkness, staring intently
4343until she discovered a pin-point of light gleaming out of it. That
4344light, she knew, came from one of the windows of the Arrow ranchhouse,
4345and she watched it long, wondering what Taylor would be doing about now.
4346
4347For she was keeping no secrets from herself tonight. She knew that she
4348liked Taylor better than she had ever liked any man of her acquaintance.
4349
4350At first she had told herself that her liking for the man had been
4351aroused merely because he had been good to her father. But she knew now
4352that she liked Taylor for himself. There was no mistaking the nameless
4353longing that had taken possession of her; the insistent and yearning
4354desire to be near him; the regret that had affected her when she had
4355left the Arrow at the end of her last visit. Taylor would never know how
4356near she had come to accepting his invitation to share the Arrow with
4357him. Had it not been for propriety—the same propriety which had
4358inseparably linked itself with all her actions—which she must observe
4359punctiliously despite the fact that girls of her acquaintance had
4360violated it openly without hurt or damage to their reputations; had it
4361not been that she must bend to its mandates, because of the shadow that
4362had always lurked near her, she would have gone to live at the Arrow.
4363
4364For she knew that she could have stayed at the Arrow without danger.
4365Taylor was a gentleman—she knew—and Taylor would never offend her in
4366the manner the world affected to dread—and suspect. But she could not
4367do the things other girls could do—that was why she had refused
4368Taylor’s invitation.
4369
4370She had thought she had conquered her aversion for the big house—the
4371aversion that had been aroused because of the story Martha had told her
4372regarding its former inhabitants, but that aversion recurred to her with
4373disquieting insistence as she sat there on the edge of the butte.
4374
4375It seemed to her that the serpent of immorality which had dragged its
4376trail across hers so many times was never to leave her, and she found
4377herself wondering about the house and about Carrington and her uncle.
4378
4379Carrington had bought the horse for her—Billy; and she had accepted it
4380after some consideration. But what if Carrington had bought the house?
4381That would mean—why, the people of Dawes, if they discovered it—if
4382Carrington had bought it—might place their own interpretation upon the
4383fact that she was living in it. And the interpretation of the people of
4384Dawes would be no more charitable than that of the people of Westwood!
4385They would think——
4386
4387She got up quickly, her face pale, and started toward the house,
4388determined to ask her uncle.
4389
4390Walking swiftly toward the front porch, where she had seen Parsons go,
4391she remembered that Parsons had told her he had arranged for the house,
4392but that might not mean that he had personally bought it.
4393
4394She meant to find out, and if Carrington owned the house, she would not
4395stay in it another night—not even tonight.
4396
4397She was walking fast when she reached the edge of the porch—almost
4398running; and when she got to the nearest corner, she saw that the porch
4399was quite vacant; Parsons must have gone in.
4400
4401She stood for an instant at the porch-edge, a beam of silvery moonlight
4402streaming upon her through a break in the trees overhead, convinced that
4403Parsons had gone to bed; and convinced, likewise, that, were she to
4404disturb him now to ask the question that was in her mind, he would laugh
4405at her.
4406
4407She decided she would wait until the morning, and she was about to
4408return to the edge of the butte, when she realized that it had grown
4409rather late. She had not noticed how quickly the time had fled.
4410
4411She turned, intending to enter the house from one of the rear doors
4412through which she had emerged, when a sound reached her ears—the rapid
4413drumming of a horse’s hoofs. She wheeled, facing the direction from
4414which the sound came—and saw Carrington riding toward her, not more
4415than fifty feet distant.
4416
4417He saw her at the instant her gaze rested on him—an instant before, she
4418surmised, for there was a huge grin on his face as she turned to him.
4419
4420He was at her side before she could obey a sudden impulse to run—for
4421she did not wish to talk to him tonight—and in another instant he had
4422dismounted and was standing close to her.
4423
4424“All alone, eh?” he laughed. “And enjoying the moon? Do you know that
4425you made a ravishing picture, standing there with the light shining on
4426you? I saw you as you started to turn, and I shall remember the picture
4427all my life! You are more beautiful than ever, girl!”
4428
4429Carrington was breathing fast. The girl thought he had been riding hard.
4430But, despite that explanation for the repressed excitement under which
4431he seemed to be laboring, the girl thought she detected the presence of
4432restrained passion in his eyes, and she shrank back a little.
4433
4434She had often seen passion in his eyes, identical with what glowed in
4435them now, but she had always felt a certain immunity, a masterfulness
4436over him that had permitted her to feel that she could repulse him at
4437will. Now, however, she felt a sudden, cringing dread of him. The dread,
4438no doubt, was provoked by her uncle’s revelation of the man’s character;
4439and, for the first time during her acquaintance with Carrington, she
4440felt a fear of him, and became aware of the overpowering force and
4441virility of the man.
4442
4443Her voice was a little tremulous when she answered:
4444
4445“I was looking for Uncle Elam. He must have gone in.”
4446
4447His face was not very distinct to her, for he was standing in a shadow
4448cast by a near-by tree, and she could not see the bruises that marred
4449the flesh, but it seemed to her that his face had never seemed so
4450repulsive. And the significance of his grin made her gasp.
4451
4452“That’s good. I’m glad he did go in; I did not come to see Parsons.”
4453
4454She had meant to take him to task for what he had done to her uncle, but
4455there was something in his voice that made thoughts of defending Parsons
4456seem futile—a need gone in the necessity to conserve her voice and
4457strength for an imminent crisis.
4458
4459For Carrington’s voice, thick and vibrant, smote her with a presentiment
4460of danger to herself. She looked sharply at him, saw that his face was
4461red and bloated with passion and, taking a backward step, she said
4462shortly:
4463
4464“I must go in. I—I promised Martha——”
4465
4466His voice interrupted her; she felt one of his hands on her arm, the
4467fingers gripping it tightly.
4468
4469“No, you don’t,” he said, hoarsely; “I came here to have a talk with
4470you, and I mean to have it!”
4471
4472“What do you mean?” she asked. She was rigid and erect, but she could
4473not keep the quaver out of her voice.
4474
4475“Playing the innocent, eh?” he mocked, his voice dry and light. “You’ve
4476played innocent ever since I saw you the first time. It doesn’t go
4477anymore. You’re going to face the music.” He thrust his face close to
4478hers and the expression of his eyes thrilled her with horror.
4479
4480“What do you suppose I brought you here for?” he demanded. “I’ll tell
4481you. I bought the house for you. Parsons knows why—Dawes knows
4482why—everybody knows. You ought to know—you shall know.” He laughed,
4483sneeringly. “Westwood could tell you, or the woman who lived in the
4484Huggins house before you came. Martha could tell you—she lived
4485here——”
4486
4487He heard her draw her breath sharply and he mocked her, gloating:
4488
4489“Ah, Martha has told you! Well, you’ve got to face the music, I tell
4490you! I’ve got things going my way here—the way I’ve wanted things to go
4491since I’ve been old enough to realize what life is. I’ve got the
4492governor, the mayor, the judges—everything—with me, and I’m going to
4493rule. I’m going to rule, my way! If you are sensible, you’ll have things
4494pretty easy; but if you’re going to try to balk me you’re going to
4495pay—plenty!”
4496
4497She did not answer, standing rigid in his grasp, her face chalk-white.
4498He did not notice her pallor, nor how she stood, paralyzed with dread;
4499and he thought because of her silence that she was going to passively
4500submit. He thought victory was near, and he was going to be magnanimous
4501in his moment of triumph.
4502
4503His grip on her arm relaxed and he leaned forward to whisper:
4504
4505“That’s the girl. No fuss, no heroics. We’ll get along; we’ll——”
4506
4507Her right hand struck his face—a full sweep of the arm behind
4508it—burning, stinging, sending him staggering back a little from its
4509very unexpectedness. And before he could make a move to recover his
4510equilibrium she had gone like a flash of light, as elusive as the
4511moonbeam in which she had stood when he had first come upon her.
4512
4513He cursed gutturally and leaped forward, running with great leaps toward
4514the rear of the house, where he had seen her vanish. He reached the door
4515through which she had gone, finding it closed and locked against him.
4516Stepping back a little, he hurled himself against the door, sending it
4517crashing from its hinges, so that he tumbled headlong into the room and
4518sprawled upon the floor. He was up in an instant, tossing the wreck of
4519the door from him, breathing heavily, cursing frightfully; for he had
4520completely lost his senses and was in the grip of an insane rage over
4521the knowledge that she had tricked him.
4522
4523Parsons heard the crash as the door went from its hinges. He got out of
4524bed in a tremor of fear and opened the door of his room, peering into
4525the big room that adjoined the dining-room. From the direction of the
4526kitchen he caught a thin shaft of light—from the kerosene-lamp that
4527Martha had placed on a table for Marion’s convenience. A big form
4528blotted out the light, casting a huge, gigantic shadow; and Parsons saw
4529the shadow on the ceiling of the room into which he looked.
4530
4531Huge as the shadow was, Parsons had no difficulty in recognizing it as
4532belonging to Carrington; and with chattering teeth Parsons quickly
4533closed his door, locked it, and stood against it, his knees knocking
4534together.
4535
4536Martha, too, had heard the crash. She bounded out of bed and ran to the
4537door of her room, swinging it wide, for instinct told her something had
4538happened to Marion. Her room was closer to the kitchen, and she saw
4539Carrington plainly, as he was rising from the débris. And she was just
4540in time to see Marion slipping through the doorway of her own room. And
4541by the time Carrington got to his feet, Martha had heard Marion’s door
4542click shut, heard the lock snap home.
4543
4544Martha instantly closed the door of her own room, fastened it and ran to
4545another door that connected her room with Marion’s. She swung that door
4546open and looked into the girl’s room; heard the girl stifle a
4547shriek—for the girl thought Carrington was coming upon her from that
4548direction—and then Martha was at the girl’s side, whispering to
4549her—excitedly comforting her.
4550
4551“The damn trash—houndin’ you this way! He ain’ goin’ to hurt you,
4552honey—not one bit!”
4553
4554Outside the door they could hear Carrington walking about in the room.
4555There came to the ears of the two women the scratch of a match, and then
4556a steady glimmer of light streaked into the room from the bottom of the
4557door, and they knew Carrington had lighted a lamp. A little later, while
4558Martha stood, her arms around the girl, who leaned against the negro
4559woman, very white and still, they heard Carrington talking with Parsons.
4560They heard Parsons protesting, Carrington cursing him.
4561
4562“He ain’ goin’ to git you, honey,” whispered Martha. “That man come heah
4563the firs’ day, an’ I knowed he’s a rapscallion.” She pointed upward, to
4564where a trap-door, partly open, appeared in the ceiling of the room.
4565
4566“There’s the attic, honey. I’ll boost you, an’ you go up there an’ hide
4567from that wild man. You got to, for that worfless Parsons am tellin’ him
4568which room you’s in. You hurry—you heah me!”
4569
4570She helped the girl upward, and stood listening until the trap-door
4571grated shut. Then she turned and grinned at the door that led into the
4572big room adjoining the kitchen. Carrington was at it, his shoulder
4573against it; Martha could hear him cursing.
4574
4575“Open up, here!” came Carrington’s voice through the door, muffled, but
4576resonant. “Open the door, damn you, or I’ll tear it down!”
4577
4578“Tear away, white man!” giggled Martha softly. “They’s a big ’sprise
4579waitin’ you when you git in heah!”
4580
4581For an instant following Carrington’s curses and demands there was a
4582silence. It was broken by a splintering crash, and the negro woman saw
4583the door split so that the light from the other room streaked through
4584it. But the door held, momentarily. Then Carrington again lunged against
4585it and it burst open, pieces of the lock flying across the room.
4586
4587This time Carrington did not fall with the door, but reeled through the
4588opening, erect, big, a vibrant, mirthless laugh on his lips.
4589
4590The light from the other room streamed in past him, shining full upon
4591Martha, who stood, her hands on her hips, looking at the man.
4592
4593Carrington was disconcerted by the presence of Martha when he had
4594expected to see Marion. He stepped back, cursing.
4595
4596Martha giggled softly.
4597
4598“What you doin’ in my room, man; just when I’se goin’ to retiah? You git
4599out o’ heah—quick! Yo’ heah me? Yo’ ain’t got no business bustin’ my
4600door down!”
4601
4602“Bah!” Carrington’s voice was malignant with baffled rage. With one step
4603he was at Martha’s side, his hands on her throat, his muscles rigid and
4604straining.
4605
4606“Where’s Marion Harlan?” he demanded. “Tell me, you black devil, or I’ll
4607choke hell out of you!”
4608
4609Martha was not frightened; she giggled mockingly.
4610
4611“That girl bust in heah a minute ago; then she bust out ag’in, runnin’
4612fit to kill herself. I reckon by this time she’s done throw herself off
4613the butte—rather than have you git her!”
4614
4615Carrington shoved Martha from him, so that she staggered and fell; and
4616with a bound he was through the door that led into Martha’s room.
4617
4618The negro woman did not move. She sat on the floor, a malicious grin on
4619her face, listening to Carrington as he raged through the house.
4620
4621Once, about five minutes after he left, Carrington returned and stuck
4622his head into the room. Martha still sat where Carrington had thrown
4623her. She did not care what Carrington did to the house, so long as he
4624was ignorant of the existence of the trap-door.
4625
4626And Carrington did not notice the door. For an hour Martha heard him
4627raging around the house, opening and slamming doors and overturning
4628furniture. Once when she did not hear him for several minutes, she got
4629up and went to one of the windows. She saw him, out at the stable,
4630looking in at the horses.
4631
4632Then he returned to the house, and Martha resumed her place on the
4633floor. Later, she heard Carrington enter the house again, and after that
4634she heard Parsons’ voice, raised in high-terrored protest. Then there
4635was another silence. Again Martha looked out of a window. This time she
4636saw Carrington on his horse, riding away.
4637
4638But for half an hour Martha remained at the window. She feared
4639Carrington’s departure was a subterfuge, and she was not mistaken. For a
4640little later Carrington returned, riding swiftly. He slid from his horse
4641at a little distance from the house and ran toward it. Martha was in the
4642kitchen when he came in. He did not speak to her as he came into the
4643room, but passed her and again made a search of the house. Passing
4644Martha again he gave her a malevolent look, then halted at the outside
4645door.
4646
4647The man’s wild rage seemed to have left him; he was calm—polite, even.
4648
4649“Tell your mistress I am sorry for what has occurred. I am afraid I was
4650a bit excited. I shall not harm her; I won’t bother her again.”
4651
4652He stepped through the doorway and, going again to a window and drawing
4653back the curtain slightly, Martha watched him.
4654
4655Carrington went to the stable, entered, and emerged again presently,
4656leading two horses—Parsons’ horse and Billy. He led the animals to
4657where his own horse stood, climbed into the saddle and rode away, the
4658two horses following. At the edge of the wood he turned and looked back.
4659Then the darkness swallowed him.
4660
4661For another half-hour Martha watched the Dawes trail from a window. Then
4662she drew a deep breath and went into Marion’s room, standing under the
4663trap-door.
4664
4665“I reckon you kin come down now, honey—he’s gone.”
4666
4667A little later, with Marion standing near her in the room, the light
4668from the kerosene-lamp streaming upon them through the shattered door,
4669Martha was speaking rapidly:
4670
4671“He acted mighty suspicious, honey; an’ he’s up to some dog’s trick,
4672shuah as you’m alive. You got to git out of heah, honey—mighty quick!
4673‘Pears he thinks you is hid somewhares around heah, an’ he’s figgerin’
4674on makin’ you stay heah. An’ if you wants to git away, you’s got to
4675walk, for he’s took the hosses!” She shook her head, her eyes wide with
4676a reflection of the complete stupefaction that had descended upon her.
4677“Laws A’mighty, what a ragin’ devil that man is, honey! I’se seen men
4678_an’_ men—an’ I knowed a nigger once that was——”
4679
4680But Martha paused, for Marion was paying no attention to her. The girl
4681was pulling some articles of wearing apparel from some drawers, packing
4682them hurriedly into a small handbag, and Martha sprang quickly to help
4683her, divining what the girl intended to do.
4684
4685“That’s right, honey; doan you stay heah in this house another minit!
4686You git out as quick as you kin. You go right over to that Squint man’s
4687house an’ tell him to protect you. ’Cause you’s goin’ to need
4688protection, honey—an’ don’t you forgit it!”
4689
4690The girl’s white face was an eloquent sign of her conception of the
4691danger that confronted her. But she spoke no word while packing her
4692handbag. When she was ready she turned to the door, to confront Martha,
4693who also carried a satchel. Together the two went out of the house,
4694crossed the level surrounding it, and began to descend the long slope
4695that led down into the mighty basin in which, some hours before, the
4696girl had seen the pin-point of light glimmering across the sea of
4697darkness toward her. And toward that light, as toward a beacon that
4698promised a haven from a storm, she went, Martha following.
4699
4700From a window of the house a man watched them—Parsons—in the grip of a
4701paralyzing terror, his pallid face pressed tightly against the glass of
4702the window as he watched until he could see them no longer.
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707CHAPTER XVII—THE WRONG ANKLE
4708
4709
4710Bud Hemmingway, the tall, red-faced young puncher who had assisted
4711Quinton Taylor in the sprained-ankle deception, saw the dawn breaking
4712through one of the windows of the bunkhouse when he suddenly opened his
4713eyes after dreaming of steaming flapjacks soaked in the sirup he liked
4714best. He stretched out on his back in the wall-bunk and licked his lips.
4715
4716“Lordy, I’m hungry!”
4717
4718But he decided to rest for a few minutes while he considered the
4719cook—away with the outfit to a distant corner of the range.
4720
4721He reflected bitterly that the cook was away most of the time, and that
4722a man fared considerably better with the outfit than he did by staying
4723at the home ranch. For one thing, when a man was with the outfit he got
4724“grub,” without having to rustle it himself—that was why it was better
4725to be with the outfit.
4726
4727“A man don’t git nothin’ to eat at all, scarcely—when he’s got to
4728rustle his own grub,” mourned Bud. “He’s got the appetite, all right,
4729but he don’t know how to rassle the ingredients which goes into good
4730grub. Take them flapjacks, now.” (He licked his lips again.) “They’re
4731scrumptuous. But that damned hyena which slings grub for the outfit
4732won’t tell a man how he makes ’em, which greediness is goin’ to git him
4733into a heap of trouble some day—when I git so hungry that I feel a heap
4734reckless!”
4735
4736Bud watched the dawn broaden. He knew he ought to get up, for this was
4737the day on which Marion Harlan was to visit the Arrow—and Taylor had
4738warned him to be on hand early to bandage the ankle again—Taylor having
4739decided that not enough time had elapsed to effect a cure.
4740
4741But Bud did not get up until a glowing shaft entering the window warned
4742him that the sun was soon to appear above the horizon. Then he bounded
4743out of the bunk and lurched heavily to an east window.
4744
4745What he saw when he looked out made him gasp for breath and hang hard to
4746the window-sill, while his eyes bulged and widened with astonishment.
4747For upon the porch of the ranchhouse—seated in the identical chairs in
4748which they had sat during their previous visit, were Marion Harlan and
4749the negro woman!
4750
4751Bud stepped back from the window and rubbed his eyes. Then he went to
4752the window again and looked with all his vision. And then a grin covered
4753his face.
4754
4755For the two women seemed to be asleep. Bud would have sworn they were
4756asleep! For the negress was hunched up in her chair—a big, almost
4757shapeless black mass—with her chin hidden in the swell of her ample
4758bosom; while the girl was leaning back, her figure slack with the utter
4759relaxation that accompanies deep sleep, her eyes closed and her hat a
4760little awry. Bud was certain _she_ was asleep, for no girl in her waking
4761moments would permit her hat to rest upon her head in that negligent
4762manner.
4763
4764Bad scratched his head many times while hurriedly getting into his
4765clothing.
4766
4767“I’m bettin’ _they_ didn’t wait for flapjacks _this_ morning!” he
4768confided to himself, mentally. “Must like it here a heap,” he reflected.
4769“Well, there’s nothin’ like gittin’ an early start when you’re goin’
4770anywhere!” he grinned.
4771
4772Stealthily he opened the door of the bunkhouse, watching furtively as he
4773stepped out, lest he be seen; and then when he noted that the women did
4774not move, he darted across the yard, vaulted the corral fence, ran
4775around the corner of the ranchhouse, carefully opened a rear door, and
4776presently stood beside a bed gently shaking its tousled-haired occupant.
4777
4778“Git up, you sufferin’ fool!” he whispered hoarsely; “they’re here!”
4779
4780Taylor’s eyes snapped open and were fixed on Bud with a resentful glare,
4781which instantly changed to reserved amusement when he saw Bud’s bulging
4782eyes and general evidence of suppressed excitement.
4783
4784He yawned sleepily, stretching his arms wide.
4785
4786“The outfit, eh? Well, tell Bothwell I’ll see him——”
4787
4788“Bothwell, hell!” sneered Bud. “It ain’t the outfit! It ain’t no damned
4789range boss! It’s _her_, I tell you! An’ if you’re figgerin’ on gittin’
4790that ankle bandaged before— That starts you to runnin’, eh?” he jeered.
4791
4792For Taylor was out of bed with one leap. In another he had Bud by the
4793shoulders and had crowded him back against the wall.
4794
4795“Bud,” he said, “I’ve a notion to manhandle you! Didn’t I tell you to
4796have me up early?”
4797
4798“Git your fingers out of my windpipe,” objected Bud. “Early! Sufferin’
4799shorthorns! Did you want me to git you up last night? It’s only four,
4800now—an’ they’ve been here for hours, I reckon—mebbe all night. How’s a
4801man to know anything about a woman?”
4802
4803Taylor was getting into his clothes. Bud watched him, marveling at his
4804deft movements. “You’re sure a wolf at hustlin’ when _she’s_ around!” he
4805offered.
4806
4807But he got no reply. Taylor was dressed in a miraculously short time,
4808and then he sat down on the edge of the bed and stuck a foot out toward
4809Bud.
4810
4811“Shut up, and get the bandage on!” he directed.
4812
4813Bud dove for a dresser and pulled out a drawer, returning instantly with
4814a roll of white cloth, which he unfolded as he knelt beside the bed. For
4815an instant after kneeling he scratched his head, looking at Taylor’s
4816feet in perplexity, and then he looked up at Taylor, his face
4817thoughtfully furrowed.
4818
4819“Which ankle was it I bandaged before?” he demanded; “I’ve forgot!”
4820
4821Taylor groaned. He, too, had forgotten. Since he had talked with Neil
4822Norton about the ankle directly after the fight with Carrington in front
4823of the courthouse he had tried in vain to remember which ankle he had
4824bandaged for Miss Harlan’s benefit. Driven to the necessity of making a
4825quick decision, his brain became a mere muddle of desperate conjecture.
4826Out of the muddle sprang a disgust for Bud for _his_ poor memory.
4827
4828“You’ve forgot!” he blurted at Bud. “Why, damn it, you ought to know
4829which one it was—you bandaged it!”
4830
4831“Well,” grinned Bud gleefully, “it was _your_ ankle, wasn’t it? Strikes
4832me that if I busted one of _my_ ankles I wouldn’t forget which one it
4833was! Leastways, if I’d busted it just to hang around a girl!”
4834
4835Taylor sneered scornfully. “You wouldn’t bust an ankle for a girl—you
4836ain’t got backbone enough. Hell!” he exploded; “do something! Take a
4837chance and bandage one of them—I don’t care a damn which one! If she
4838noticed the other time, I’ll tell her that one was cured and I busted
4839the other one!”
4840
4841“She’d know you was lyin’,” grinned Bud. He stood erect, his eyes alight
4842with an inspiration. “Wrap up both of ’em!” he suggested. “If she goes
4843to gittin’ curious—which she will, bein’ a woman—tell her you busted
4844both of ’em!”
4845
4846“It won’t do,” objected Taylor; “I couldn’t lie that heavy an’ keep a
4847straight face.”
4848
4849Bud began to wrap the left ankle. As he worked, the doubt in his eyes
4850began to fade and was succeeded by conviction. When he finished, he
4851stood up and grinned at Taylor.
4852
4853“That’s the one,” he said; “the left. I mind, now, that we talked about
4854it. You go right out to her, limpin’, the same as you done before, an’
4855she’ll not say a word about it. You’ll see.”
4856
4857Taylor grunted disbelievingly, and hobbled to the front door. He looked
4858back at Bud, who was snickering, made a malicious grimace at him, and
4859softly opened the door.
4860
4861Miss Harlan had been asleep, but she was not asleep when Taylor opened
4862the door. Indeed, she was never more wide awake in her life. At the
4863sound of the door opening she turned her head and sat stiffly erect, to
4864face Taylor.
4865
4866Taylor looked apologetically at his ankle, his cheeks tinged with a
4867flush of embarrassment.
4868
4869“This ankle, ma’am—it ain’t quite well yet. You’ll excuse me not being
4870gone. But Bud—that’s my friend—says it won’t be quite right for a few
4871days yet. But I won’t be in your way—and I hope you enjoy yourself.”
4872
4873Miss Harlan was enjoying herself. She was enjoying herself despite the
4874shadow of the tragedy that had almost descended upon her. And mirth,
4875routing the bitter, resentful emotions that had dwelt in her heart
4876during the night, twitched mightily at her lips and threatened to curve
4877them into a smile.
4878
4879For during her last visit to the Arrow she had noted particularly that
4880it had been Taylor’s _right_ ankle which had been bandaged, and now he
4881appeared before her with the _left_ swathed in white cloth!
4882
4883But even had she not known, Taylor’s face must have told her of the
4884deception. For there was guilt in his eyes, and doubt, and a sort of
4885breathless speculation, and—she was certain—an intense curiosity to
4886discover whether or not she was aware of the trick.
4887
4888But she looked straight at him, betraying nothing of the emotions that
4889had seized her.
4890
4891“Does it pain you _very_ much?” she inquired.
4892
4893Had not Taylor been so eager to make his case strong, he might have
4894noted the exceedingly light sarcasm of her voice.
4895
4896“It hurts a heap, ma’am,” he declared. “Why, last night——”
4897
4898“I shouldn’t think it would be necessary to lie about an ankle,” she
4899said, coldly.
4900
4901Taylor’s face went crimson, and in his astonishment he stepped heavily
4902upon the traitor foot and stood, convicted, before her, looking very
4903much like a reproved schoolboy.
4904
4905She rose from her chair, and now she turned from Taylor and stood
4906looking out over the big level, while behind her Taylor shifted his
4907feet, scowled and felt decidedly uncomfortable.
4908
4909From where Taylor watched her she looked very rigid and indignant—with
4910her head proudly erect and her shoulders squared; and he could almost
4911_feel_ that her eyes were flashing with resentment.
4912
4913Yet had he been able to see her face, he would have seen her lips
4914twitching and her eyes dancing with a light that might have puzzled him.
4915For she had already forgiven him.
4916
4917“There’s lies—_and_ lies,” he offered palliatively, breaking a painful
4918silence.
4919
4920There was no answer, and Taylor, desperately in earnest in his desire
4921for forgiveness, and looking decidedly funny to Bud Hemmingway, who was
4922watching from the interior of the room beyond the open door, walked
4923across the porch with no suspicion of a limp, and halted near the girl.
4924
4925“Shucks, Miss Harlan,” he said. “I’m sure caught; and I’m admitting it
4926was a sort of mean trick to pull off on you. But if you wanted to be
4927near a girl you’d taken a shine to—that you liked a whole lot, I mean,
4928Miss Harlan—and you couldn’t think of any _good_ excuse to be around
4929her? You couldn’t blame a man for that—could you? Besides,” he added,
4930when peering at the side of her face, he saw the twitching lips, ready
4931to break into a smile, “I’ll make it up to you!”
4932
4933“How?” It was a strained voice that answered him.
4934
4935“By manhandling Bud Hemmingway for wrapping up the wrong ankle, ma’am!”
4936he declared.
4937
4938Both heard a cackle of mirth from the room behind them. And both turned,
4939to see Bud Hemmingway retreating through a door into the kitchen.
4940
4941It might have been Bud’s action that brought the smile to Miss Harlan’s
4942face, or it might have been that she had forgiven Taylor. But at any
4943rate Taylor read the smile correctly, and he succeeded in looking
4944properly repentant when he felt Miss Harlan’s gaze upon him.
4945
4946“I won’t play any more tricks—on you,” he declared. “You ain’t holding
4947it against me?”
4948
4949“If you will promise not to harm Bud,” she said.
4950
4951“That goes,” he agreed, and went into the house to get his discarded
4952boot.
4953
4954When he reappeared, Miss Harlan was again seated in the chair. Swiftly
4955her thoughts had reverted to the incident of the night before, and her
4956face was wan and pale, and her lips pressed tightly together in a brave
4957effort to repress the emotions that rioted within her. In spite of her
4958courage, and of her determination not to let Taylor know of what had
4959happened to her, her eyes were moist and her lips quivering.
4960
4961He stepped close to her and peered sharply at her, standing erect
4962instantly, his face grave.
4963
4964“Shucks!” he said, accusingly; “I wouldn’t be called hospitable—now,
4965would I? Standing here, talking a lot of nonsense, and you—you must
4966have started _early_ to get here by this time!” Again he flashed a keen
4967glance at her, and his voice leaped.
4968
4969“Something has happened, Miss Harlan! What is it?”
4970
4971She got up again and faced him, smiling, her eyes shining mistily
4972through the moisture in them. She was almost on the verge of tears, and
4973her voice was tremulous when she answered:
4974
4975“Mr. Taylor, I—I have come to ask if you—still—if your offer about
4976the Arrow is still open—if—I could stay here—myself and Martha; if I
4977could accept the offer you made about giving me father’s share of the
4978Arrow. For—for—I can’t go back East—to Westwood, and I won’t stay in
4979the Huggins house a minute longer!”
4980
4981“Sure!” he said, with a grim smile, aware of her profound emotion;
4982aware, too, that something had gone terribly wrong with her—to make her
4983accept what she had once considered charity—an offer made out of his
4984regard for her father.
4985
4986“But, look here,” he added. “What’s wrong? There’s something——”
4987
4988“Plenty, Mr. Squint.”
4989
4990This was Martha. She had been awake for some little time, sitting back
4991with her eyes closed, listening. She was now sitting erect, her eyes
4992shining with eagerness to tell all she knew of the night’s happenings.
4993
4994“Plenty, Mr. Squint,” she repeated, paying no attention to Miss Harlan’s
4995sharp, “Martha!” “That big rapscallion, Carrington, has been makin’
4996things mighty mis’able for Missy Harlan. He come to the house las’ night
4997an’ bust the door down, tryin’ to git at missy, an’ she’s run away from
4998him like a whitehead. Then, when he finds he can’t diskiver where I hide
4999missy he run the hosses off an’ we have to walk heah. That’s all, Mr.
5000Squint, ’ceptin’ that me an’ missy doan stay in that house no more—if
5001we have to walk East—all the way!”
5002
5003Miss Harlan saw a flash light Taylor’s eyes; saw the flash recede, to be
5004replaced by a chilling glow. And his lips grew straight and stiff—two
5005hard lines pressed firmly together. She saw his chest swell and noted
5006the tenseness of his muscles as he stepped closer to her.
5007
5008“Was your uncle there with you, Miss Harlan?”
5009
5010She nodded, and saw his lips curve with a mirthless smile.
5011
5012“What did Carrington do?” The passion in his voice made an icy shiver
5013run over her—she felt the terrible earnestness that had come over him,
5014and a pulse of fear gripped her.
5015
5016She had never felt more like crying than at this instant, and until this
5017minute she had not known how deeply she had been affected by
5018Carrington’s conduct, nor how tired she was, nor how she had yearned for
5019the sympathy Taylor was giving her. But she felt that something in
5020Taylor’s manner portended violence, and she did not want him to risk his
5021life fighting Carrington—for her.
5022
5023“You see,” she explained, “Mr. Carrington did not really _do_ anything.
5024He just came there, and was impertinent, and impudent, and insulting.
5025And he told me that he had bought the house; that it didn’t belong to
5026uncle—though I thought it did; and that the people of Dawes—and
5027everywhere—would think—things—about me—as the people of Westwood
5028had—thought. And I—I—why, I just couldn’t stay——”
5029
5030“That’s enough, Miss Harlan. So Carrington didn’t do anything.” His
5031voice was vibrant with some sternly repressed passion.
5032
5033“So you walked all the way here, and you have had no breakfast,” he
5034said, shortly. He turned toward the front door, his voice snapping like
5035the report of a rifle:
5036
5037“Bud!”
5038
5039And, looking through the doorway, Miss Harlan saw Bud jump as though he
5040had been shot. He appeared in the doorway, serious-faced and alert.
5041
5042“Rustle some breakfast—quick! And hoe out that spare bedroom. Jump!”
5043
5044Taylor understood perfectly what had happened, for he remembered what he
5045had overheard between Carrington and Parsons on the train. To be sure,
5046Miss Harlan knew nothing about the conversation, and so she mentally
5047commended Taylor’s quickness of perception, and felt grateful to him
5048because he had spared her the horror of explaining further.
5049
5050She sat down again, aware of the startling unconventionality of this
5051visit and of the conversation that had resulted from it, but oppressed
5052with no sense of shame. For it seemed entirely natural that she should
5053have come to Taylor, though she supposed that was because he had been
5054her father’s friend, and that she had no other person to go to—not even
5055if she went East, to Westwood. But she would not have mentioned what had
5056happened at the big house if Martha had not taken the initiative.
5057
5058She was startled over the change that had come in Taylor. Watching him
5059covertly as he stood near her, and following his movements as he walked
5060around in the room, helping Bud, generously leaving her to herself and
5061her thoughts, she looked in vain for that gentleness and subtle
5062thoughtfulness that hitherto had seemed to distinguish him. She had
5063admired him for his easy-going manner, the slow deliberateness of his
5064glances, the quizzical gleam of his eyes.
5065
5066But she saw him now as many of the men in this section of the country
5067had seen him when he faced the necessity for rapid, determined action.
5068It was the other side of his character; before she had heard his voice,
5069and before she had seen him smile—the stern, unyielding side of him
5070which she had discovered always was ready for the blows of adversity and
5071enmity—his fighting side.
5072
5073And when she went into the house to breakfast, feeling the strangeness
5074of it all—of the odd fate which had led her to the Arrow; the queer
5075reluctance that affected her over the action in accepting the
5076hospitality of a man who—except for his association with her
5077father—was almost a stranger to her—she found that he did not intend
5078to insinuate his presence upon her.
5079
5080He called her, and stood near the table when she and Martha went in.
5081Then he told her gravely that the house was “hers,” and that he and Bud
5082would live in the bunkhouse.
5083
5084“And when you get settled,” he told her, as he stood in the doorway,
5085ready to go, “we’ll write those articles of partnership. And,” he added,
5086“don’t you go to worrying about Carrington. If he comes here, and Bud or
5087me ain’t here, you’ll find a loaded rifle hanging behind the front door.
5088Don’t be afraid to use it—there’s no law against killing snakes out
5089here!”
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094CHAPTER XVIII—THE BEAST AGAIN
5095
5096
5097Carrington was conscious of the error his unrestrained passion had
5098driven him to committing. Yet he had not been sincere when he had
5099declared to Martha that he wouldn’t bother the girl again. For after
5100leading the two horses to Dawes and arranging for their care, he hunted
5101up Danforth. It was nearly midnight when Danforth reached Carrington’s
5102rooms in the Castle, and Carrington was in a sullen mood.
5103
5104“I want two or three men who will do what they are told and keep their
5105mouths shut,” he told Danforth. “Get them—quick—and send them to the
5106Huggins house—mine, now—and have them stay there. Nobody is to leave
5107the house—not even to come to town. Understand? Not even Parsons.
5108Hustle! There is no train out of here tonight? No? Well, that’s all
5109right. Get going!”
5110
5111Danforth had noticed Carrington’s sullenness, and the strained
5112excitement of his manner, and there was in Danforth’s mind an
5113inclination to warn Carrington about including the woman in the scheme
5114to subjugate Dawes—for he knew Carrington of old; but a certain light
5115in the big man’s eyes warned Danforth and he shut his half-opened lips
5116and departed on his errand.
5117
5118In an hour he returned, telling Carrington that his orders had been
5119obeyed.
5120
5121Danforth seated himself in a chair near one of the front windows and
5122waited, for he knew Carrington still had something to say to him—the
5123man’s eyes told him, for they were alight with a cold, speculative gleam
5124as they rested on Danforth.
5125
5126At last, after a silence that lasted long, Carrington said, shortly:
5127
5128“What do you know about Taylor?”
5129
5130“What I told you before—the first day. And that isn’t much.”
5131
5132“I had a talk with Parsons the other day—about Larry Harlan,” said
5133Carrington. “It seems that Larry Harlan worked for Taylor—for two or
5134three years. I didn’t question Parsons closely about the connection
5135between Taylor and Harlan, but it seems to me that Parsons mentioned a
5136mine. What about it? Do you know anything about it?”
5137
5138Danforth related what he knew regarding the incident of the mine—the
5139story told by Taylor when he returned after Larry Harlan’s death—and
5140Carrington’s eyes gleamed with interest.
5141
5142“Do you think he told a straight story?” he asked.
5143
5144He watched Danforth intently.
5145
5146“Hell, yes!” declared the other. “He’s too square to lie!”
5147
5148Five minutes later Carrington said good-night to Danforth. But
5149Carrington did not immediately go to bed; he sat for a long time in a
5150chair near the window looking out at the buildings of Dawes.
5151
5152In the courtroom early the next morning he leaned over Judge
5153Littlefield’s desk, smiling.
5154
5155“Did you ever hear of Quinton Taylor being connected with a mining
5156venture?”
5157
5158“Well, rather.”
5159
5160“Where?”
5161
5162“At Nogel—in the Sangre de Christo Mountains.”
5163
5164“How far is that?”
5165
5166“About ten miles—due west.”
5167
5168“What do you know about the mine?”
5169
5170“Very little. Taylor and a man named Lawrence Harlan registered the
5171claim here. I heard that Harlan died—was killed in an accident. Soon
5172afterward, Taylor sold the mine—to a man named Thornton—for a
5173consideration, not mentioned.” The judge looked sharply at Carrington.
5174“Why this inquiry?” he asked; “do you think there is anything wrong
5175about the transaction?”
5176
5177“There is no determining that until an investigation is made.”
5178Carrington laughed as he left the judge.
5179
5180Later he got on his horse and rode to the big house. On the front porch,
5181seated in a chair, smoking, he saw one of the men Danforth had sent in
5182obedience to his order; at the rear of the house was another; and,
5183lounging carelessly on the grass near the edge of the butte fringing the
5184big valley, he saw still another—men who seemed to find their work
5185agreeable, for they grinned at Carrington when he rode up.
5186
5187Carrington dismounted and entered the house—by one of the rear
5188doors—which he had wrecked the night before. He went in boldly,
5189grinning, for he anticipated that by this time Marion Harlan would have
5190reached that stage of intimidation where she would no longer resist him.
5191
5192At first he was only mildly disturbed at the appearance of the interior;
5193for nothing had been done to bring order out of the chaos he had created
5194the night before, and the condition of the furniture, and the atmosphere
5195of gloomy emptiness that greeted him indicated nothing. The terror under
5196which the girl had labored during the night might still be gripping her.
5197
5198He had no suspicion that the girl had left the house until after he had
5199looked into all the rooms but the one occupied by Parsons. Then a
5200conviction that she _had_ fled seized him; he scowled and leaped to the
5201door of Parsons’ room, pounding heavily upon it.
5202
5203Parsons did not answer his knock, and an instant later, when Carrington
5204forced the door and stepped into the room, he saw Parsons standing near
5205a window, pallid and shaking.
5206
5207With a bound Carrington reached Parsons’ side and gripped the man by the
5208collar of his coat.
5209
5210“Where’s Miss Harlan?” he demanded. He noted that Parsons swayed in his
5211grasp, and he peered at the other with a malignant joy. He had always
5212hated Parsons, tolerating him because of Parsons’ money.
5213
5214“She’s gone,” whispered Parsons tremulously. “I—I tried to stop her,
5215knowing you wouldn’t want it, but—she went away—anyway.”
5216
5217“Where?” Carrington’s fingers were gripping Parsons’ shoulder near the
5218throat with a bitter, viselike strength that made the man cringe and
5219groan from the pain of it.
5220
5221“Don’t, Jim; for God’s sake, don’t! You’re hurting me! I—I couldn’t
5222help it; I couldn’t stop her!”
5223
5224The abject, terrified appeal in his eyes; the fawning, doglike
5225subjection of his manner, enraged Carrington. He shook the little man
5226with a force that racked the other from head to heel.
5227
5228“Where did she go—damn you!”
5229
5230“To the Arrow.”
5231
5232Aroused to desperation by the flaming fury that blazed in Carrington’s
5233eyes, Parsons tried to wrench himself free, tugging desperately, and
5234whining: “Don’t, Jim!” For he knew that he was to be punished for his
5235dereliction.
5236
5237He shrieked when Carrington struck him; a sound which died in his throat
5238as the blow landed. Carrington left him lie where he fell, and went out
5239to the men, interrogating the one he had seen on the front porch.
5240
5241From that person he learned that no one had left the house since the men
5242had come; so that Carrington knew Marion must have departed soon after
5243he had left the night before—or some time during the time of his
5244departure and the arrival of the men.
5245
5246Ten minutes after emerging from the house he went in again. Parsons was
5247sitting on the floor of his room, swaying weakly back and forth, whining
5248tonelessly, his lips loose and drooling blood.
5249
5250For an instant Carrington stood over him, looking down at him with a
5251merciless, tigerlike grin. Then he stooped, gripped Parsons by the
5252shoulders, and, lifting him bodily, threw him across the bed. Parsons
5253did not resist, but lay, his arms flung wide, watching the big man
5254fearfully.
5255
5256“Don’t hit me again, Jim!” he pleaded. “Jim, I’ve never done anything to
5257you!”
5258
5259“Bah!” Carrington leaned over the other, grinning malevolently.
5260
5261“You’ve double-crossed me, Elam,” he said silkily. “You’re through. Get
5262out of here before I kill you! I want to; and if you are here in five
5263minutes, I shall kill you! Go to the Arrow—with your niece. Tell her
5264what you know about me—if you haven’t done so already. And tell her
5265that I am coming for her—and for Taylor, too! Now, get out!”
5266
5267In less than five minutes, while Carrington was at the front of the
5268house talking with the three men, Parsons tottered from a rear door,
5269staggered weakly into some dense shrubbery that skirted the far side of
5270the house, and made his slow way toward the big slope down which Marion
5271and Martha had gone some hours before.
5272
5273Retribution had descended swiftly upon Parsons; it seemed to him he was
5274out of it, crushed and beaten. But no thread of philosophy weaved its
5275way through the fabric of the man’s complete misery and humiliation, and
5276no reflection that he had merely reaped what he had sown glimmered in
5277his consciousness. He was merely conscious that he had been beaten and
5278robbed by the man who had always been his confederate, and as he reeled
5279down the big slope on his way to the Arrow he whined and moaned in a
5280toneless voice of vengeance—and more vengeance.
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285CHAPTER XIX—THE AMBUSH
5286
5287
5288The incident of the fight between Carrington, Danforth, Judge
5289Littlefield, and Taylor in front of the courthouse had eloquently
5290revealed a trait of Taylor’s character which was quite generally known
5291to the people of Dawes, and which, in a great measure, accounted for
5292Taylor’s popularity.
5293
5294Few of Dawes’s citizens had ever seen Taylor angry. Neil Norton had seen
5295him in a rage once, and the memory of the man’s face was still vivid. A
5296few of the town’s citizens had watched him once—when he had thrashed a
5297gunman who had insulted him—and the story of that fight still taxed the
5298vocabularies of those who had witnessed it. One enthusiastic watcher, at
5299the conclusion of the fight, had picturesquely termed Taylor a “regular
5300he-wolf in a scrap;” and thus there was written into the traditions of
5301the town a page of his history which carried the lesson, repeated by
5302many tongues:
5303
5304“Don’t rile Taylor!”
5305
5306Riding into Dawes about two hours after he had heard from Marion Harlan
5307the story of the attack on her by Carrington, Taylor’s face was set and
5308grim. His ancient hatred of Carrington was intensified by another
5309passion that had burned its way into his heart, filling it with a
5310primitive lust to destroy—jealousy.
5311
5312He dismounted in front of the Castle Hotel, and, entering, he asked the
5313clerk where he could find Carrington. The clerk could give him no
5314information, and Taylor went out, the clerk’s puzzled gaze following
5315him.
5316
5317“Evidently he doesn’t want to congratulate Carrington about anything,”
5318the clerk confided to a bystander.
5319
5320Mounting his horse, Taylor rode down the street to the building which
5321Danforth had selected as a place from which to administer the government
5322of Dawes. A gilt sign over the front bore upon it the words:
5323
5324 CITY HALL.
5325
5326Taylor went inside, and found Danforth seated at a desk. The latter
5327looked sourly at his visitor until he caught a glimpse of his eyes, then
5328his face paled, and he sat silent until Taylor spoke:
5329
5330“Where’s Carrington?”
5331
5332“I haven’t seen Carrington this morning,” lied Danforth, for he _had_
5333seen Carrington some time before, riding out of town toward the Huggins
5334house. He suspected Carrington’s errand was in some way concerned with
5335the three men who had been sent there. But he divined from the
5336expression in Taylor’s eyes that trouble between Taylor and Carrington
5337was imminent, and he would not set Taylor on the other’s trail without
5338first warning Carrington.
5339
5340He met Taylor’s straight, cold look of disbelief with a vindictive
5341smirk, which grew venomous as Taylor wheeled and walked out. Taylor had
5342not gone far when Danforth called a man to his side, whispered rapidly
5343to him, telling him to hurry. Later the man slipped out of the rear door
5344of the building, mounted a horse, and rode hurriedly down the river
5345trail toward the Huggins house.
5346
5347Taylor rode to the _Eagle_ office, but Norton was not there, and so,
5348pursuing his quest, Taylor looked into saloons and stores, and various
5349other places. Men who knew him noted his taciturnity—for he spoke
5350little except to greet a friend here and there shortly—and commented
5351upon his abrupt manner.
5352
5353“What’s up with Taylor?” asked a man who knew him. “Looks sort of
5354riled.”
5355
5356Taylor found Carrington in none of the places in which he looked. He
5357returned to the _Eagle_ office, and found Norton there. He greeted
5358Norton with a short:
5359
5360“Seen Carrington?”
5361
5362“Why, yes.” Norton peered closely at his friend. “What in blazes is
5363wrong?” His thoughts went to another time, when he had seen Taylor as he
5364appeared now, and he drew a deep breath.
5365
5366Briefly Taylor told him, and when the tale was ended, Norton’s eyes were
5367blazing with indignation.
5368
5369“So, that’s the kind of a whelp he is!” he said. “Well,” he added, “I
5370saw him go out on the river trail a while ago; it’s likely he’s gone to
5371the Huggins house.”
5372
5373“His—now,” said Taylor; “that’s what makes it worse. Well,” he added as
5374he stepped toward the door, “I’ll be going.”
5375
5376“Be careful, Squint,” warned Norton, placing a hand on his friend’s
5377shoulder. “I know you can lick him—and I hope you give him all that’s
5378coming to him. But watch him—he’s tricky!” He paused. “If you need any
5379help—someone to go with you, to keep an eye——”
5380
5381“It’s a one-man job,” grinned Taylor mirthlessly.
5382
5383“You’ll promise you won’t be thinking of that ankle—this time?” said
5384Norton seriously.
5385
5386Taylor permitted himself a faint smile. “That’s all explained now,” he
5387said. “She’s been a lot generous—and forgiving. No,” he added, “I won’t
5388be thinking of that ankle—now!”
5389
5390And then, his lips setting again, he crossed the sidewalk, mounted
5391Spotted Tail, and rode through town to the river trail. Watching him,
5392Norton saw him disappear in some timber that fringed the river.
5393
5394 * * * * *
5395
5396Carrington had finished his talk with the three men he had set to guard
5397the Huggins house. The men were told to stay until they received orders
5398from Carrington to leave. And they were to report to him immediately if
5399anyone came.
5400
5401Carrington had watched Parsons go down the big slope; and for a long
5402time after he had finished his talk with the three men he stood on the
5403front porch of the house watching the progress made by Parsons through
5404the basin.
5405
5406“Following Marion,” Carrington assured himself, with a crooked smile.
5407“Well, I’ll know where to get both of them when I want them.”
5408
5409Carrington felt not the slightest tremor of pity for Parsons. He laughed
5410deep in his throat with a venomous joy as he saw Parsons slowly making
5411his way through the big basin; for he knew Parsons—he knew that the
5412craven nature of the man would prevent him from attempting any reprisal
5413of a vigorous character.
5414
5415Yet the exultation in the big man’s heart was dulled with a slight
5416regret for his ruthless attack on Marion Harlan. He should not have been
5417so eager, he told himself; he should have waited; he should have
5418insinuated himself into her good graces, and then——
5419
5420Scowling, he got on his horse and rode up the Dawes trail, shouting a
5421last word of caution to the three men—one seated on the front porch,
5422the other two lounging in the shade of a tree near by.
5423
5424Half a mile from the house, riding through a timber grove, he met the
5425man Danforth had sent to him. The latter gave Carrington the message he
5426carried, which was merely: “Taylor is looking for you.”
5427
5428“Coming here?” he asked the man sharply.
5429
5430“I reckon he will be—if he can’t find you in town,” said the man.
5431“Danforth said Taylor was a heap fussed up, an’ killin’ mad!”
5432
5433A grayish pallor stole over Carrington’s face, and he drew a quick
5434breath, sending a rapid, dreading glance up the Dawes trail. Then,
5435coincident with a crafty backward look—toward the Huggins house—the
5436grayish pallor receded and a rush of color suffused his face. He spoke
5437shortly to the man:
5438
5439“Sneak back—by a roundabout trail. Don’t let Taylor see you!”
5440
5441He watched while the man urged his horse deep into the fringing timber.
5442Carrington could see him for a time as he rode, and then, when horse and
5443rider had vanished, Carrington wheeled his horse and sent it clattering
5444back along the trail to the big house.
5445
5446Arriving there, he called the three men to him and talked fast to them.
5447The talk ended, the men ran for their horses, and a few minutes later
5448they raced up the river trail toward Dawes, their faces grim, their eyes
5449alert.
5450
5451About a mile up the trail, where a wood of spruce and fir-balsam spread
5452dark shadows over the ground, and an almost impenetrable growth of brush
5453fringed the narrow, winding path over which any rider going to the big
5454house must pass, they separated, two plunging deep into the brush on one
5455side, and one man secreting himself on the other side.
5456
5457They urged their horses far back, where they could not be seen. And
5458then, concealing themselves behind convenient bushes, they waited, their
5459eyes trained on the Dawes trail, their ears attuned to catch the
5460slightest sound that might come from that direction.
5461
5462Back at the big house—having arranged the ambuscade—Carrington drew a
5463deep breath of relief and smiled evilly. He thought he knew why Taylor
5464was looking for him. Marion had gone to the Arrow, to tell Taylor what
5465had happened at the big house, and Taylor, in a jealous rage, intended
5466to punish him. Well, Taylor could come now.
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471CHAPTER XX—A FIGHT TO A FINISH
5472
5473
5474And Taylor was “coming.” The big black horse he was riding—which he had
5475named “Spotted Tail” because of the white blotches that startlingly
5476relieved his somber sable coat—was never in better condition. He
5477stepped lightly, running in long, smooth leaps down the narrow trail,
5478champing at the bit, keen of eye, alert, eager, snorting his impatience
5479over the tight rein his rider kept on him.
5480
5481But Spotted Tail was not more eager than his rider. Taylor, however,
5482knowing that at any instant he might run plump into Carrington,
5483returning from the big house, was forced to restrain his impatience.
5484Therefore, except on the straight reaches of the trail, he was forced to
5485pull the black down.
5486
5487But they were traveling fast when they reached the timber grove in which
5488Carrington’s men were concealed; and yet on the damp earth of the trail,
5489where the sunlight could not penetrate, and where the leaves of past
5490summers had fallen, to rot and weave a pulpy carpet, the rush of Spotted
5491Tail’s passing created little sound.
5492
5493Within a hundred feet of the spot where Carrington’s men were concealed,
5494Spotted Tail shot his ears forward stiffly and raised his muzzle
5495inquiringly. Taylor, noting the action, and suspecting that instinct had
5496warned Spotted Tail of the approach of another horse, drew the animal
5497down and rode forward at a walk, for he felt that it must be
5498Carrington’s horse which was approaching.
5499
5500Rounding a sharp turn in the trail, Taylor could look ahead for perhaps
5501a hundred feet. He saw no rider advancing toward him, and he leaned
5502forward, slapping the black’s neck in playful reproach.
5503
5504As he moved he heard the heavy crash of a pistol shot and felt the
5505bullet sing past his head. Another pistol barked venomously from some
5506brush on his right, and still another from his left.
5507
5508But none of the bullets struck Taylor. For the black horse, startled by
5509Taylor’s playful movement when all his senses were strained to detect
5510the location of his kind on the trail, had made an involuntary forward
5511leap, thus whisking his rider out of the line of fire. And before either
5512of the three men could shoot again, Spotted Tail had flashed down the
5513trail—a streak of somber black against the green background of the
5514trees.
5515
5516He fled over the hundred feet of straight trail and had vanished around
5517a bend before the Carrington men could move their weapons around
5518impeding branches of the brush that covered them. There was no stopping
5519Spotted Tail now, for he was in a frenzy of terror—and he made a mere
5520rushing black blot as he emerged from the timber and fled across an open
5521space toward another wood—the wood that surrounded the big house.
5522
5523Standing on the front porch of the big house, nervously smoking a cigar,
5524his face set in sullen lines, his eyes fixed on the Dawes trail,
5525Carrington heard the shots. He sighed, grinned maliciously, and relaxed
5526his vigilance.
5527
5528“He’s settled by now,” he said.
5529
5530He looked at one of the chairs standing on the porch, thought of sitting
5531in one of them to await the coming of the three men, decided he was too
5532impatient to sit, and began walking back and forth on the porch.
5533
5534He had thrown a half-smoked cigar away and was lighting another when he
5535saw a black blot burst from the edge of a timber-clump beyond an open
5536space. The match flared and went out as Carrington held it to the end of
5537the cigar, for there was something strangely familiar in the shape of
5538the black blot—even with it heading directly toward him. An instant
5539later, the blot looming larger in his vision, Carrington dropped cigar
5540and match and stood staring with wild, fear-haunted eyes at the rushing
5541black horse.
5542
5543Carrington stood motionless a little longer—until the black horse, its
5544rider sitting straight in the saddle, in cowboy fashion, reached the
5545edge of the wood surrounding the house. Then Carrington, cursing, his
5546lips in a hideous pout, drew a pistol from a hip-pocket. And when the
5547black horse was within fifty feet of him, and still coming at a speed
5548which there was no gauging, Carrington leveled the pistol.
5549
5550Once—twice—three, four, five, six times he pulled the trigger of the
5551weapon. Carrington saw a grim, mocking smile on the rider’s face, and
5552knew none of his bullets had taken effect.
5553
5554Unarmed now, he was suddenly stricken with a panic of fear; and while
5555the rider of the black horse was dismounting at the edge of the porch,
5556Carrington dove for the front door of the house and vanished inside,
5557slamming the door behind him, directly in the rider’s face.
5558
5559When Taylor threw the door open he saw Carrington, far back in the room,
5560swinging a chair over his head. At Taylor’s appearance he threw the
5561chair with all the force his frenzy of fear could put into the effort.
5562Taylor ducked, and the chair flew past him, sailing uninterruptedly
5563outside and over the porch railing.
5564
5565Carrington ran through the big front room, through the next room—the
5566sitting-room—knocking chairs over in his flight, throwing a big center
5567table at his silent, implacable pursuer. He slammed the sitting-room
5568door and tried to lock it, but he could not turn the key quickly enough,
5569and Taylor burst the door open, almost plunging against Carrington as he
5570came through it.
5571
5572Carrington ran into the dining-room, shoved the dining-room table in
5573Taylor’s way as Taylor tried to reach him; but Taylor leaped over the
5574obstruction, and when Carrington dodged into Marion Harlan’s room,
5575Taylor was so close that he might have grasped the big man.
5576
5577Taylor had said no word. The big man saw two guns swinging at Taylor’s
5578hips, and he wondered vaguely why the man did not use them. It occurred
5579to Carrington as he plunged through Marion Harlan’s room into Martha’s,
5580and from there to the kitchen, and back again to the dining-room, that
5581Taylor was not going to shoot him, and his panic partially left him.
5582
5583And yet there was a gleam in Taylor’s eyes that made his soul cringe in
5584terror—the cold, bitter fury of a peaceloving man thoroughly aroused.
5585
5586Twice, as Taylor pursued Carrington through the sitting-room again and
5587into another big room that adjoined it, Carrington’s courage revived
5588long enough to permit him to consider making a stand against Taylor, but
5589each time as he stiffened with the determination, the terrible rage in
5590Taylor’s eyes dissuaded him, and he continued to evade the clash.
5591
5592But he knew that the clash must come, and when, in their rapid, headlong
5593movements, Carrington came close to the front door and tried to slip out
5594of it, Taylor lunged against him and struck at him, the fist just
5595grazing Carrington’s jaw, the big man understood that Taylor was intent
5596on beating him with his fists.
5597
5598Had it not been for his previous encounter with Taylor, Carrington would
5599not have hesitated, for he knew how to protect himself in a fight; but
5600there was something in Taylor’s eyes now to add to the memory of that
5601other fight, and Carrington wanted no more of it.
5602
5603But at last he was forced to stand. Ducking to evade the blow aimed at
5604his jaw when he tried to dart out of the front door, he slipped.
5605Reeling, in an effort to regain his equilibrium, he plunged into another
5606big room. It was a room that was little used—an old-fashioned parlor,
5607kept trim and neat against the coming of visitors, but a room whose
5608gloominess the occupants of the house usually avoided.
5609
5610The shades were down, partly concealing heavy wooden blinds—which were
5611closed. And the only light in the room was that which came from a little
5612square window high up in the side wall.
5613
5614Before Carrington could regain his balance Taylor had entered the room.
5615He closed the door behind him, placed his back against it, locked it,
5616and grinned felinely at the big man.
5617
5618“Your men are coming, Carrington,” he said—“hear them?” In the silence
5619that followed his words both stood, listening to the beat of hoofs near
5620the house. “They’ll be trying to get in here in a minute,” went on
5621Taylor. “But before they get in I’m going to knock your head off!” And
5622without further warning he was upon Carrington, striking bitterly.
5623
5624It seemed to Carrington that the man was endowed with a savage strength
5625entirely out of proportion to his stature, and that he was able to start
5626terrific, deadening blows from any angle. For though Carrington was a
5627strong man and had had some fighting experience, he could neither evade
5628Taylor’s blows nor stand against the impact of them.
5629
5630He went reeling around the room under the impetus of Taylor’s terrible
5631rushes, struggling to defend himself, to dodge, to clinch, to evade
5632somehow the fists that were flying at him from all directions. He could
5633not get an instant’s respite in which to set himself. Three times in
5634succession he was knocked down so heavily that the house shook with the
5635crash of his body striking the floor, and each time when he got to his
5636feet he tried to fight Taylor off in an endeavor to set himself for a
5637blow. But he could not. He was knocked against the walls of the room,
5638and hammered away from them with stiff, jolty, venomous blows that
5639jarred him from head to heels. He tried vainly to cover up—with his
5640arms locked about his head he crouched and tried to rush Taylor off his
5641feet, knowing he was stronger than the other, and that his only hope was
5642in clinching. But Taylor held him off with savage uppercuts and terrific
5643short-arm swings that smashed his lips.
5644
5645He began to mutter in a whining, vicious monotone; twice he kicked at
5646Taylor, and twice he was knocked down as a punishment for his foul
5647methods. Finding his methods ineffectual, and discovering that covering
5648his face with his arms did not materially lessen the punishment he was
5649receiving, he began to stand up straight, taking blows in an effort to
5650land one.
5651
5652But Taylor eluded him; Carrington’s blows did not land. Raging and
5653muttering, roaring with impotent passion, he whipped the air with his
5654arms, almost jerking them out of their sockets.
5655
5656Stiff and taut, his muscles accommodating themselves to every demand he
5657made on them, and in perfect coordination with his brain—and the
5658purpose of his brain to inflict upon Carrington the maximum of
5659punishment for his dastardly attack on Marion Harlan—Taylor worked fast
5660and furiously. For he heard Carrington’s three men in the next room; he
5661heard them try the door; heard them call to Carrington.
5662
5663And then, convinced that the fight must be ended quickly, before the men
5664should break down the door and have him at a disadvantage, Taylor
5665finished it. He smothered Carrington with a succession of stiff-arm,
5666straight punches that glazed the other’s eyes and sent him reeling
5667around the room. And, at last, over in a corner near the little window,
5668Carrington went down flat on his back, his eyes closed, his arms flung
5669wide.
5670
5671Panting from his exertions, Taylor drew his guns and ran to one of the
5672front windows. They opened upon the porch, and, peering through the
5673blinds, Taylor saw one of the men standing at one of the windows, trying
5674to peer into the room. The other two, Taylor knew, were at the door—he
5675could hear them talking in the silence that had followed the final
5676falling of Carrington.
5677
5678With a gun in each hand, Taylor approached the door. He was compelled to
5679sheath one of the guns, finding that it interfered with the turning of
5680the key in the lock; and he had sheathed it and was slowly turning the
5681key, intending to throw the door open suddenly and take his chance with
5682the two men on the other side of it, when he saw a shadow darken the
5683little window above where Carrington lay.
5684
5685He wheeled quickly, saw a man’s face at the window, caught the glint of
5686a pistol. He snapped a shot at the man, swinging his gun over his head
5687to keep it from striking the door as he turned. But at the movement the
5688man’s pistol roared, glass tinkling on the floor with the report. The
5689air in the room rocked with the explosion of Taylor’s pistol, but a
5690heavy blow on Taylor’s left shoulder, accompanied by a twinge of pain,
5691as though a white-hot iron had suddenly been plunged through it, spoiled
5692Taylor’s aim, and his bullet went into the ceiling. As he staggered back
5693from the door he saw the man’s face at the window, set in a triumphant
5694grin. Then, as Taylor flattened against the wall to steady himself for
5695another shot, the face disappeared.
5696
5697For an instant Taylor rested against the wall, his arms outstretched
5698along it to keep himself from falling, for the bullet which had struck
5699him had hurt him badly. The wound was in the left shoulder, though, and
5700high, and therefore not dangerous, yet he knew it had robbed his left
5701arm of most of its strength—there was no feeling in the fingers that
5702groped along the wall.
5703
5704He stepped again to the door and softly turned the key in the lock. He
5705heard no sound in the room beyond the door, and, thinking that the men,
5706curious over the shooting, had gone outside, he jerked the door open.
5707
5708The movement was greeted with deafening report and a smoke-streak that
5709blinded Taylor momentarily. In just the instant before the smoke-streak
5710Taylor had caught a glimpse of a man standing near the center of the
5711room beyond the door, and though he was rather disconcerted by the
5712powder-flash and the searing of his left cheek by a bullet, he let his
5713own gun off twice in as many seconds, and had the grim satisfaction of
5714seeing the man stagger and tumble headlong to the floor.
5715
5716Taylor peered once at the man, to see if he needed further attention,
5717decided he did not, and ran toward the front door, which opened upon the
5718porch.
5719
5720He was just in time to see one of Carrington’s men sticking his head
5721around a corner of the house. It was the man who had shot him from the
5722little window. Taylor’s gun and the man’s roared simultaneously. Taylor
5723had missed, for the man dodged back, and Taylor staggered, for the man’s
5724bullet had struck him in the left thigh. He leaped, though limping,
5725toward the corner, and when almost there a pistol crashed behind him,
5726the bullet hitting his left shoulder, near where the other had gone in,
5727the force of it spinning him clear around, so that he reeled and brought
5728up against a porch column where it joined the rail.
5729
5730Grimly setting himself, grinning bitterly with the realization that the
5731men had him between them, Taylor stood momentarily, fighting to overcome
5732the terrible weakness that had stolen over him. His knees were
5733trembling, the house, trees, and sky were agitated in sickening
5734convolutions, and yet when he saw the head of a man appear from around a
5735corner of the house at his right, he snapped a shot at it, and instantly
5736as it was withdrawn he staggered to the corner, lurching heavily as he
5737went, and turning just as he reached it to reply to a shot sent at him
5738from the other corner of the house.
5739
5740A smoke-spurt met him as he reeled around the corner nearest him, and
5741his knees sagged as he aimed his gun at a blurring figure in front of
5742him. He saw the man go down, but his own strength was spent, and he knew
5743the last bullet had struck him in a vital spot.
5744
5745Staggering drunkenly, he started for the side of the house and brought
5746up against it with a crash. Again, as he had done inside the house, he
5747stretched his arms out, flattening himself against the wall, but this
5748time the arms were hanging more limply.
5749
5750He was seeing things through a crimson haze, and raising a hand, he
5751wiped his eyes—and could see better, though there was a queer dimness
5752in his vision and the world was still traveling in eccentric circles.
5753
5754He saw a blur in front of him—two men, he thought, though he knew he
5755had accounted for two of the three gunmen who had followed him to the
5756house. Then he heard a laugh—coarse and brutal—in a voice that he
5757knew—Carrington’s.
5758
5759With heartbreaking effort he brought up his right hand, bearing the
5760pistol. He was trying to swing it around to bring it to bear upon one of
5761the two dancing figures in front of him, when a crushing blow landed on
5762his head, and he knew one of the men had struck him with a fist. He felt
5763his own weapon go off at last—it seemed he had been an age pressing on
5764the trigger—and he heard a voice again—Carrington’s—saying: “Damn
5765him; he’s shot me!” He laughed aloud as a gun roared close to him; he
5766felt another twinge of pain somewhere around where the other twinges had
5767come—or on the other side—he did not know; and he sank slowly, still
5768pressing the trigger of his pistol, though not knowing whether or not he
5769was doing any damage. And then the eccentrically whirling world became a
5770black blur, soundless and void.
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775CHAPTER XXI—A MAN FACES DEATH
5776
5777
5778Taylor’s last shot, when he had been automatically pressing the trigger
5779after Carrington had struck him viciously with his fist, had brought
5780down the last of the three men who had ambushed him. And one of his last
5781bullets had struck Carrington, who had recovered consciousness and
5782staggered out of the house in time to see the end of the fight. And the
5783big man, in a black, malignant fury of hatred, was staggering toward
5784Taylor, lifting a foot to kick him, when from the direction of the
5785clearing in front of the house came a voice, hoarse and vibrant with a
5786cold, deadly rage:
5787
5788“One kick an’ I blow the top of your head off!” Carrington stopped short
5789and wheeled, to face Ben Mullarky.
5790
5791The Irishman’s eyes were blazing with wrath, and as he came forward,
5792peering at the figures lying on the ground near the house, Carrington
5793retreated, holding up his hands.
5794
5795“Three of ye pilin’ on one, eh?” said Mullarky as he looked down at
5796Taylor, huddled against the side of the house. “An’ ye got him, too,
5797didn’t ye? I’ve a domn big notion to blow the top of your head off, anny
5798way. Ye slope, ye big limb of the divvle, or I’ll do it!”
5799
5800Mullarky watched while Carrington mounted his horse and rode up the
5801river trail toward Dawes, and the instant Carrington was out of sight,
5802Mullarky was down on his knees beside Taylor, taking a lightning
5803inventory of his wounds.
5804
5805“Four of them, looks like!” he muttered thickly, his voice shaking with
5806pity for the slack, limp, smoke-blackened figure that lay silent, the
5807trace of a smile on its face. “An’ two of them through the shoulder!” He
5808paused, awed. “Lord, what a shindy!”
5809
5810Then, swiftly gulping down his sympathy and his rage, Mullarky ran to
5811his horse, which he had left at the edge of the wood when he had heard
5812the shooting. He led the animal back to where Taylor lay, tenderly
5813lifted Taylor in his arms, walked to the horse, and after much labor got
5814Taylor up in front of him on the horse, Taylor’s weight resting on his
5815legs, the man’s head and shoulders resting against him, to ease the jars
5816of the journey.
5817
5818Then he started, traveling as swiftly as possible down the big slope
5819toward his own house, not so very far away.
5820
5821Spotted Tail, jealously watching his master, saw him lifted to the back
5822of the other horse. Shrewdly suspecting that all was not going well, and
5823that his master would need him presently, Spotted Tail trotted after
5824Mullarky.
5825
5826In this manner, with Spotted Tail a few paces in his rear, Mullarky,
5827still tenderly carrying his burden, reached his cabin.
5828
5829He stilled Mrs. Mullarky’s hysterical questions with a short command:
5830
5831“Hitch up the buckboard while I’m gettin’ him in shape!”
5832
5833And then, while Mrs. Mullarky did as she was bidden, Mullarky carried
5834Taylor inside the cabin, bathed his wounds, stanching the flow of blood
5835as best he could—and came out again, carrying Taylor, and placed him in
5836the bed of the light spring-wagon, upon some quilts—and upon a pillow
5837that Mrs. Mullarky ran into the house to get, emerging with the
5838reproach:
5839
5840“You’d be lettin’ him ride on them hard boards!”
5841
5842Following Mullarky’s instructions, Mrs. Mullarky climbed to the driver’s
5843seat and sent the buckboard toward the Arrow, driving as fast as she
5844thought she dared. And Ben Mullarky, on Spotted Tail, turned his face
5845toward Dawes, riding as he had never ridden before.
5846
5847 * * * * *
5848
5849Parsons had reached the Arrow shortly after Taylor had departed for
5850Dawes. The man had stopped at the Mullarky cabin to inquire the way from
5851the lady, and she had frankly commented upon Parsons’ battered
5852appearance.
5853
5854“So it was Carrington that mauled you, eh?” she said. “Well, he’s a
5855mighty evil man—the divvle take his sowl!”
5856
5857Parsons concurred in this view of Carrington, though he did not tell
5858Mrs. Mullarky so. He went on his way, refusing the good woman’s proffer
5859of a horse, for he wanted to go afoot to the Arrow. He felt sure of
5860Marion’s sympathy, but he wanted to make himself as pitiable an object
5861as possible. And as he walked toward the Arrow he mentally dramatized
5862the moment of his appearance at the ranchhouse—a bruised and battered
5863figure dragging itself wearily forward, dusty, thirst-tortured, and
5864despairing. He knew that spectacle would win the girl’s swift sympathy.
5865The fact that the girl herself had been through almost the same
5866experience did not affect him at all—he did not even think of it.
5867
5868And when Parsons reached the Arrow the scene was even as he had dreamed
5869it—Marion Harlan had seen him from afar, and came running to him,
5870placing an arm about him, helping him forward, whispering words of
5871sympathy in his ears, so that Parsons really began to look upon himself
5872as a badly abused martyr.
5873
5874Marion cared for him tenderly, once she got him into the ranchhouse. She
5875bathed his bruised face, prepared breakfast for him, and later, learning
5876from him that he had not slept during the night, she sent him off to
5877bed, asking him as he went into the room if he had seen Ben Mullarky.
5878
5879“For,” she added, “he came here early this morning, after Mr. Taylor
5880left, and I sent him to the big house to get some things for me.”
5881
5882But Parsons had not seen Mullarky.
5883
5884And at last, when the morning was nearly gone, and Marion saw a
5885horse-drawn vehicle approaching the Arrow from the direction of Dawes,
5886she ran out, thinking Ben Mullarky had brought her “things” in his
5887buckboard. But it was not Ben who was coming, but Mrs. Mullarky. The
5888lady’s face was very white and serious, and when the girl came close and
5889she saw the look on the good woman’s face, she halted in her tracks and
5890stood rigid, her own face paling.
5891
5892“Why, Mrs. Mullarky, what has happened?”
5893
5894“Enough, deary.” Mrs. Mullarky waved an eloquent hand toward the rear of
5895the buckboard, and slowly approaching, the girl saw the huddled figure
5896lying there, swathed in quilts.
5897
5898She drew her breath sharply, and with pallid face, swaying a little, she
5899walked to the rear of the buckboard and stood, holding hard to the rim
5900of a wheel, looking down at Taylor’s face with its closed eyes and its
5901ghastly color.
5902
5903She must have screamed, then, for she felt Mrs. Mullarky’s arms around
5904her, and she heard the lady’s voice, saying: “Don’t, deary; he ain’t
5905dead, yet—an’ he won’t die—we won’t let him die.”
5906
5907She stood there by the buckboard for a time—until Mrs. Mullarky,
5908running to one of the outbuildings, returned with Bud Hemmingway. Then,
5909nerved to the ordeal by Bud’s businesslike methods, and the awful
5910profanity that gushed from his clenched teeth, she helped them carry
5911Taylor into the house.
5912
5913They took Taylor into his own room and laid him on the bed; a long, limp
5914figure, pitifully shattered, lying very white and still.
5915
5916The girl stayed in the room while Mrs. Mullarky and Bud ran hither and
5917thither getting water, cloths, stimulants, and other indispensable
5918articles. And during one of their absences the girl knelt beside the
5919bed, and resting her head close to Taylor’s—with her hands stroking his
5920blackened face—she whispered:
5921
5922“O Lord, save him—save him for—for me!”
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927CHAPTER XXII—LOOKING FOR TROUBLE
5928
5929
5930Before night the Arrow outfit, led by Bothwell, the range boss, came
5931into the ranchhouse. For the news had reached them—after the manner in
5932which all news travels in the cow-country—by word of mouth—and they
5933had come in—all those who could be spared—to determine the truth of
5934the rumor.
5935
5936There were fifteen of them, rugged, capable-looking fellows; and despite
5937the doctor’s objections, they filed singly, though noiselessly, into
5938Taylor’s room and silently looked down upon their “boss.” Marion,
5939watching them from a corner of the room, noted their quick gulps of
5940pity, their grim faces, the savage gleams that came into their eyes, and
5941she knew they were thinking of vengeance upon the men who had wrought
5942the injury to their employer.
5943
5944Bothwell—big, grim, and deliberate of manner—said nothing as he looked
5945down into his chief’s face. But later, outside the house, listening to
5946Bud Hemmingway’s recital of how Taylor had been brought to the
5947ranchhouse, Bothwell said shortly:
5948
5949“I’m takin’ a look!”
5950
5951Shortly afterward, followed by every man of the outfit who had ridden in
5952with him, Bothwell crossed the big basin and sent his horse up the long
5953slope to the big house.
5954
5955Outside they came upon the bodies of the two men with whom Taylor had
5956fought. And inside the house they saw the other huddled on the floor
5957near a door in the big front room. Silently the men filed through the
5958house, looking into all the rooms, and noting the wreck and ruin that
5959had been wrought. They saw the broken glass of the little window through
5960which one of Carrington’s men had fired the first shot; they noted the
5961hole in the ceiling—caused by a bullet from Taylor’s pistol; and they
5962saw another hole in the wall near the door beside which Taylor had been
5963standing just before he had swung the door open.
5964
5965“Three of them—an’ Carrington—accordin’ to what Bud says,” said
5966Bothwell. “That’s four.” He smiled bitterly. “They got him all
5967right—almost, I reckon. But from the looks of things they must have had
5968a roarin’ picnic doin’ it!”
5969
5970Not disturbing anything, the entire outfit mounted and rode swiftly down
5971the Dawes trail, their hearts swelling with sympathy for Taylor and
5972passionate hatred for Carrington, “itching for a clean-up,” as one
5973sullen-looking member of the outfit described his feelings.
5974
5975But there was no “clean-up.” When they reached Dawes they found the town
5976quiet—and men who saw them gave them plenty of room and forebore to
5977argue with them. For it was known that they were reckless, hardy spirits
5978when the mood came upon them, and that they worshiped Taylor.
5979
5980And so they entered Dawes, and Dawes treated them with respect. Passing
5981the city hall, they noticed some men grouped in front of the building,
5982and they halted, Bothwell dismounting and entering.
5983
5984“What’s the gang collectin’ for?” he asked a man—whom he knew for
5985Danforth. There was a belligerent thrust to Bothwell’s chin, and a glare
5986in his eyes that, Danforth felt, must be met with diplomacy.
5987
5988“There’s been trouble at the Huggins house, and I’m sending these men to
5989investigate.”
5990
5991“Give them diggin’ tools,” said Bothwell grimly. “An’ remember this—if
5992there’s any more herd-ridin’ of our boss the Arrow outfit is startin’ a
5993private graveyard!” He pinned the mayor with a cold glare: “Where’s
5994Carrington?”
5995
5996“In his rooms—under a doctor’s care. He’s hit—bad. A bullet in his
5997side.”
5998
5999“Ought to be in his gizzard!” growled Bothwell. He went out, mounted,
6000and led his men away. They were reluctant to leave town, but Bothwell
6001was insistent. “They ain’t no fight in that bunch of plug-uglies!” he
6002scoffed. “We’ll go back an’ ’tend to business, an’ pull for the boss to
6003get well!”
6004
6005And so they returned to the Arrow, to find that the Dawes doctor was
6006still with Taylor. The doctor sent out word to them that there was a
6007slight chance for his patient, and satisfied that they had done all they
6008could, they rode away, to attend to “business.”
6009
6010For the first time in her life Marion Harlan was witnessing the fight of
6011a strong man to live despite grievous wounds that, she was certain,
6012would have instantly killed most men. But Taylor fought his fight
6013unconsciously, for he was still in that deep coma that had descended
6014upon him when he had gently slipped to the ground beside the house,
6015still fighting, still scorning the efforts of his enemies to finish him.
6016
6017And during the first night’s fever he still fought; the powerful
6018sedatives administered by the doctor had little effect. In his delirium
6019he muttered such terms and phrases as these: “Run, damn you—run! I
6020ain’t in any hurry, and I’ll get you!” And—“I’ll certainly smash you
6021some!” And—“A ‘thing,’ eh—I’ll show you! She’s mine, you miserable
6022whelp!”
6023
6024Whether these were thoughts, or whether they were memories of past
6025utterances, made vivid and brought into the present by the fever, the
6026girl did not know. She sat beside his bed all night, with the doctor
6027near her, waiting and watching and listening.
6028
6029And she heard more: “That’s Larry’s girl, and it’s up to me to protect
6030her.” And—“I knew she’d look like that.” Also—“They’re both tryin’ to
6031send her to hell! But I’ll fool them!” At these times there was
6032ineffable tenderness in his voice. But at times he broke out in terrible
6033wrath. “Ambush me, eh? Ha, ha! That was right clever of you, Spotted
6034Tail—we didn’t make a good target, did we? Only for your sense we’d
6035have—” He ceased, to begin anew: “I’ve got _you_—damn you!” And then
6036he would try to sit erect, swinging his arms as though he were trying to
6037hit someone.
6038
6039But toward morning he fell into a fitful sleep—the sleep of exhaustion;
6040and when the dawn came, Mrs. Mullarky ordered the girl, pale and wan
6041from her night’s vigilance and service, to “go to bed.”
6042
6043For three days it was the same. And for three days the doctor stayed at
6044the side of the patient, only sleeping when Miss Harlan watched over
6045Taylor.
6046
6047And during the three days’ vigil, Taylor’s delirium lasted. The girl
6048learned more of his character during those three days of constant
6049watchfulness than she would have learned in as many years otherwise.
6050That he was honorable and courageous, she knew; but that he was so
6051sincerely apprehensive over her welfare she had never suspected. For she
6052learned through his ravings that he had fought Carrington and the three
6053men for her; that he had deliberately sought Carrington to punish him
6054for the attack on her, and that he had not considered his own danger at
6055all.
6056
6057And at the beginning of the fourth day, when he opened his eyes and
6058stared wonderingly about the room, his gaze at first resting upon the
6059doctor, and then traveling to the girl’s face, and remaining there for a
6060long time, while a faint smile wreathed his lips, the girl’s heart beat
6061high with delight.
6062
6063“Well, I’m still a going it,” he said weakly.
6064
6065“I remember,” he went on, musingly. “When they was handing it to me, I
6066was thinking that I was in pretty bad shape. And then they must have
6067handed it to me some more, for I quit thinking at all. I’m going to pull
6068through—ain’t I?”
6069
6070“You are!” declared the doctor. “That is,” he amended, “if you keep your
6071trap shut and do a lot of sleeping.”
6072
6073“For which I’m going to have a lot of time,” smiled Taylor. “I’m going
6074to sleep, for I feel mighty like sleeping. But before I do any sleeping,
6075there’s a thing I want to know. Did Carrington’s men—the last two—get
6076away, or did I——”
6077
6078“You did,” grinned the doctor. “Bothwell rode over there to find
6079out—and Mullarky saw them. Mullarky brought you back—and got me.”
6080
6081“Carrington?” inquired the patient.
6082
6083“Mullarky saw him. He says he never saw a man so beat up in his life.
6084Besides, you shot him, too—in the side. Not dangerous, but a heap
6085painful.”
6086
6087Taylor smiled and looked at Miss Harlan. “I knew you were here,” he
6088said; “I’ve felt you near me. It was mighty comforting, and I want to
6089thank you for it. There were times when I must have shot off my mouth a
6090heap. If I said anything I shouldn’t have said, I’m a whole lot sorry.
6091And I’m asking your pardon.”
6092
6093“You didn’t,” she said, her eyes eloquent with joy over the improvement
6094in him.
6095
6096“Well, then, I’m going to sleep.” He raised his right hand—his good
6097one—and waved it gayly at them—and closed his eyes.
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102CHAPTER XXIII—A WORLD-OLD LONGING
6103
6104
6105Looking back upon the long period of Taylor’s convalescence, Marion
6106Harlan could easily understand why she had surrendered to the patient.
6107
6108In the first place, she had liked Taylor from the very beginning—even
6109when she had affected to ridicule him on the train coming toward Dawes.
6110She had known all along that she had liked him, and on that morning when
6111she had visited the Arrow to ask about her father Taylor had woven a
6112magnetic spell about her.
6113
6114That meeting and the succeeding ones had merely strengthened her liking
6115for him. But the inevitable intimacy between nurse and patient during
6116several long weeks of convalescence had wrought havoc with her heart.
6117
6118Taylor’s unfailing patience and good humor had been another factor in
6119bringing about her surrender. It was hard for her to believe that he had
6120fought a desperate battle which had resulted in the death of three men
6121and the wounding of Carrington and himself; for there were no savage
6122impulses or passions gleaming in the eyes that followed her every
6123movement while she had been busy in the sickroom for some weeks. Nor
6124could she see any lingering threat in them, promising more violence upon
6125his recovery. He seemed to have forgotten that there had been a fight,
6126and during the weeks that she had been close to him he had not even
6127mentioned it. He had been content, it seemed, to lounge in a chair and
6128listen to her while she read, to watch her; and there had been times
6129when she had seen a glow in his eyes that told her things that she
6130longed to hear him say.
6131
6132The girl’s surrender had not been conveyed to Taylor in words, though
6133she was certain he knew of it; for the signs of it must have been
6134visible, since she could feel the blushes in her cheeks at times when a
6135word or a look passing between them was eloquent with the proof of her
6136aroused emotions.
6137
6138It was on a morning about six weeks following the incident of the
6139shooting that she and Taylor had walked to the river. Upon a huge flat
6140rock near the edge of a slight promontory they seated themselves, Taylor
6141turned slightly, so that she had only a profile view of him.
6142
6143Taylor’s thoughts were grave. For from where he and the girl sat—far
6144beyond the vast expanse of green-brown grass that carpeted the big
6145level—he could see a huge cleft in some mountains. And the sight of
6146that cleft sent Taylor’s thoughts leaping back to the days he and Larry
6147Harlan had spent in these mountains, searching for—and finding—that
6148gold for which they had come. And inevitably as the contemplation of the
6149mountains brought him recollections of Larry Harlan he was reminded of
6150his obligation to his old-time partner. And the difficulties of
6151discharging that obligation were increasing, it seemed.
6152
6153At least, Taylor’s duty was not quite clear to him. For while Parsons
6154still retained a place in the girl’s affections he could not turn over
6155to her Larry’s share of the money he had received from the sale of the
6156mine.
6157
6158And Parsons did retain the girl’s affections—likewise her confidence
6159and trust. A man must be blind who could not see that. For the girl
6160looked after him as any dutiful girl might care for a father she loved.
6161Her attitude toward the man puzzled Taylor, for, he assured himself, if
6162she would but merely study the man’s face perfunctorily she could not
6163have failed to see the signs of deceit and hypocrisy in it. All of which
6164convinced Taylor of the truth of the old adage: “Love is blind.”
6165
6166One other influence which dissuaded Taylor from an impulse to turn over
6167Larry’s money to the girl was his determination to win her on his own
6168merits. That might have seemed selfishness on his part, but now that the
6169girl was at the Arrow he could see that she was well supplied with
6170everything she needed. Her legacy would not buy her more than he would
6171give her gratuitously. And he did not want her to think for a single
6172moment he was trying to buy her love. That, to his mind was gross
6173commercialism.
6174
6175Marion was not looking at the mountains; she was watching Taylor’s
6176profile—and blushing over thoughts that came to her.
6177
6178For she wished that she might have met him under different
6179conditions—upon a basis of equality. And that was not the basis upon
6180which they stood now. She had come to the Arrow because she had no other
6181place to go, vindicating her action upon Taylor’s declaration that he
6182had been her father’s friend.
6183
6184That had been a tangible premise, and was sufficient to satisfy, or to
6185dull, any surface scruples he might have had regarding the propriety of
6186the action. But her own moral sense struck deeper than that. She felt
6187she had no right to be here; that Taylor had made the offer of a
6188partnership out of charity. And so long as she stayed here, dependent
6189upon him for food and shelter, she could not permit him to speak a word
6190of love to her—much as she wanted him to speak it. Such was the
6191puritanical principle driven deep into the moral fabric of her character
6192by a mother who had set her a bad example.
6193
6194This man had fought for her; he had risked his life to punish a man who
6195had wronged her in thought, only; and she knew he loved her. And yet,
6196seated so near him, she could not put out the hand that longed to touch
6197him.
6198
6199However, her thoughts were not tragic—far from it! Youth is hopeful
6200because it has so long to wait. And there was in her heart at this
6201moment a presentiment that time would sever the bonds of propriety that
6202held her. And the instincts of her sex—though never having been tested
6203in the arts of coquetry—told her how to keep his heart warm toward her
6204until that day, having achieved her independence, she could meet him on
6205a basis of equality.
6206
6207“Mr. Squint,” she suddenly demanded; “what are you thinking about?”
6208
6209He turned and looked full at her, his eyes glowing with a grave humor.
6210
6211“I’d tell you if I thought you’d listen to me,” he returned,
6212significantly. “But it seems that every time I get on that subject you
6213poke fun at me. Is there _anything_ I can do to show you that I love
6214you—that I want you more than any man ever wanted a woman?”
6215
6216“Yes—there is.” Her smile was tantalizing.
6217
6218“Name it!” he demanded, eagerly.
6219
6220“Stop being tragic. I don’t like you when you are tragic—or when you
6221are talking nonsense about love. I have heard so much of it!”
6222
6223“From me, I suppose?” he said, gloomily.
6224
6225He had turned his head and she shot a quick, eloquent glance at him.
6226“From you—and several others,” she said, deliberately.
6227
6228There was a resentful, hurt look in his eyes when he turned and looked
6229at her. “Just how many?” he demanded, somewhat gruffly.
6230
6231“Jealous!” she said, shaking her finger at him. “Do you want a bill of
6232particulars? Because if you do,” she added, looking demurely downward,
6233“I should have to take several days to think it over. You see, a woman
6234can’t catalogue everything men say to her—for they say so many silly
6235things!”
6236
6237“Love isn’t silly,” he declared. He looked rather fiercely at her. “What
6238kind of a man do you like best?” he demanded.
6239
6240She blushed. “I like a big man—about as big as you,” she said. “A man
6241with fierce eyes that glower at a woman when she talks to him of
6242love—she insisting that she hasn’t quite fallen in love—with _him_. I
6243like a man who is jealous of the reputation of the woman he _professes_
6244to love; a man who is jealous of other men; a man who isn’t so very
6245good-looking, but who is a handsome man for all that—because he is so
6246very manly; a man who will fight and risk his life for me.”
6247
6248“Could you name such a man?” he said. There was a scornful gleam in his
6249eyes.
6250
6251“I am looking at him this minute!” she said.
6252
6253Grinning, for he knew all along that she had been talking of him, he
6254wheeled quickly and tried to catch her in his arms. But she slipped off
6255the rock and was around on the other side of it, keeping it between them
6256while he tried to catch her. Instinctively he realized that the chase
6257was hopeless, but he persisted.
6258
6259“I’ll never speak to you again if you catch me!” she warned, her eyes
6260flashing.
6261
6262“But you told me——”
6263
6264“That I liked you,” she interrupted. “And liking a man isn’t——”
6265
6266And then she paused and looked down, blushing, while Taylor, in the act
6267of vaulting over the rock, collapsed and sat on it instead, red of face
6268and embarrassed.
6269
6270For within a dozen paces of them, and looking rather embarrassed and
6271self-conscious, himself, though with a twinkle in his eyes that made
6272Taylor’s cheeks turn redder—was Bud Hemmingway.
6273
6274“I’m beggin’ your pardon,” said the puncher; “but I’ve come to tell you
6275that Neil Norton is here—again. He’s been settin’ on the porch for an
6276hour or two—he says. But I think he’s stretching it. Anyway, he’s tired
6277of waitin’ for you—he says—an’ he’s been wonderin’ if you was goin’ to
6278set on that boulder all day!”
6279
6280Taylor slipped off the rock and started toward Bud, feigning resentment.
6281
6282Bud, his face agitated by a broad grin, deliberately winked at Miss
6283Harlan—though he spoke to Taylor.
6284
6285“I’d be a little careful about how I went to jumpin’ off boulders—you
6286might bust your ankle again!”
6287
6288And then Taylor grinned at Miss Harlan—who pretended a severity she did
6289not feel; while Bud, cackling mirthfully, went toward the ranchhouse.
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294CHAPTER XXIV—A DEATH WARRANT
6295
6296
6297Carrington was not a coward; he was not even a cautious man. And the
6298bitter malice that filled his heart, together with riotous impulses that
6299seethed in his brain prompted him to go straight to the Arrow, wreak
6300vengeance upon Taylor and drag Marion Harlan back to the big house he
6301had bought for her.
6302
6303But a certain memory of Taylor’s face when the latter had been pursuing
6304him through the big house; a knowledge of Taylor’s ability to inflict
6305punishment, together with a divination that Taylor would not hesitate to
6306kill him should there arise the slightest opportunity—all these
6307considerations served to deter Carrington from undertaking any rash
6308action.
6309
6310Taylor’s opposition to his desires enraged Carrington. He had met and
6311conquered many men—and he had coolly and deliberately robbed many
6312others, himself standing secure and immune behind legal barriers. And he
6313had seen his victims writhe and squirm and struggle in the meshes he had
6314prepared for them. He had heard them rave and wail and threaten; but not
6315one of them had attempted to inflict physical punishment upon him.
6316
6317Taylor, however, was of the fighting type. On two occasions, now,
6318Carrington had been given convincing proof of the man’s ability. And he
6319had seen in Taylor’s eyes on the latest occasion the implacable gleam of
6320iron resolution and—when Taylor had gone down, fighting to the last, in
6321the sanguinary battle at the big house, he had not failed to note the
6322indomitability of the man—the tenacious and dogged spirit that knows no
6323defeat—a spirit that would not be denied.
6324
6325And so, though Carrington’s desires would have led him to recklessly
6326carry the fight to the Arrow, certain dragging qualms of reluctance
6327dissuaded him from another meeting with Taylor on equal terms.
6328
6329And yet the malevolent passions that gripped the big man would not
6330tolerate the thought of opposition. Taylor was the only man who stood
6331between him and his desires, and Taylor must be removed.
6332
6333During the days of Carrington’s confinement to his rooms above the
6334Castle—awaiting the slow healing of the wound Taylor had inflicted upon
6335him, and the many bruises that marred his face—mementoes of the
6336terrible punishment Taylor had inflicted upon him—the big man nursed
6337his venomous thoughts and laid plans for revenge upon his enemy.
6338
6339As soon as he was able to appear in Dawes—to undergo without
6340humiliation the inspection of his face by the citizens of the town—for
6341news of his punishment had been whispered broadcast—he boarded a
6342westbound train.
6343
6344He got off at Nogel, a little mining town sitting at the base of some
6345foothills in the Sangre de Christo Range, some miles from Dawes.
6346
6347He spent three days in Nogel, interrogating the resident manager of the
6348“Larry’s Luck” mine, talking with miners and storekeepers and quizzing
6349men in saloons—and at the beginning of the fourth day he returned to
6350Dawes.
6351
6352At about the time Miss Harlan and Taylor were sitting on the rock on the
6353bank of the river near the Arrow, Carrington was in the courthouse at
6354Dawes, leaning over Judge Littlefield’s desk. A tall, sleek-looking man
6355of middle age, with a cold, steady eye and a smooth smile, stood near
6356Carrington. The man was neatly attired, and looked like a prosperous
6357mine-owner or operator.
6358
6359But had the judge looked sharply at his hands when he gripped the one
6360that was held out to him when Carrington introduced the man; or had he
6361been a physiognomist of average ability, he could not have failed to
6362note the smooth softness of the man’s hands and the gleam of guile and
6363cunning swimming deep in his eyes.
6364
6365But the judge noted none of those things. He had caught the man’s
6366name—Mint Morton—and instantly afterward all his senses became
6367centered upon what the man was saying.
6368
6369For the man spoke of conscience—and the judge had one of his own—a
6370guilty one. So he listened attentively while the man talked.
6371
6372The thing had been bothering the man for some months—or from the time
6373it happened, he said. And he had come to make a confession.
6374
6375He was a miner, having a claim near Nogel. He knew Quinton Taylor, and
6376he had known Larry Harlan. One morning after leaving his mine on a trip
6377to Nogel for supplies, he had passed close to the “Larry’s Luck” mine.
6378Being on good terms with the partners, he had thought of visiting them.
6379Approaching the mine on foot—having left his horse at a little
6380distance—he heard Taylor and Harlan quarreling. He had no opportunity
6381to interfere, for just as he came upon the men he saw Taylor knock
6382Harlan down with a blow of his fist. And while Harlan lay unconscious on
6383the ground Taylor had struck him on the head with a rock.
6384
6385Morton had not revealed himself, then, fearing Taylor would attack him.
6386He had concealed himself, and had seen Taylor, apparently remorseful,
6387trying to revive Harlan. These efforts proving futile, Taylor had rigged
6388up a drag, placed Harlan on it, and had taken him to Nogel. But Harlan
6389died on the way.
6390
6391To Littlefield’s inquiry as to why Morton had not reported the murder
6392instantly, the man replied that, being a friend to Taylor, he had been
6393reluctant to expose him.
6394
6395After the man concluded his story the judge and Carrington exchanged
6396glances. There was a vindictively triumphant gleam in Littlefield’s
6397eyes, for he still remembered the humiliation he had endured at Taylor’s
6398hands.
6399
6400He took Morton’s deposition, told him he would send for him, later; and
6401dismissed him. Carrington, appearing to be much astonished over the
6402man’s confession, accompanied him to the station, where he watched him
6403board the train that would take him back to Nogel.
6404
6405And on the platform of one of the coaches, Carrington, grinning
6406wickedly, gave the man a number of yellow-backed treasury notes.
6407
6408“You think I won’t have to come back—to testify against him?” asked the
6409man, smiling coldly.
6410
6411“Certainly not!” declared Carrington. “You’ve signed his death warrant
6412this time!”
6413
6414Carrington watched the train glide westward, and then returned to the
6415courthouse. He found the judge sitting at his desk, gazing meditatively
6416at the floor. For there had been something insincere in Morton’s
6417manner—his story of the murder had not been quite convincing—and in
6418spite of his resentment against Taylor the judge did not desire to add
6419anything to the burden already carried by his conscience.
6420
6421Carrington grinned maliciously as he halted at Littlefield’s side and
6422laid a hand on the other’s arm.
6423
6424“We’ve got him, Littlefield!” he said. “Get busy. Issue a warrant for
6425his arrest. I’ll have Danforth send you some men to serve as
6426deputies—twenty of them, if you think it necessary!”
6427
6428The judge cleared his throat and looked with shifting eyes at the other.
6429
6430“Look here, Carrington,” he said, “I—I have some doubts about the
6431sincerity of that man Morton. I’d like to postpone action in this case
6432until I can make an investigation. It seems to me that—that Taylor, for
6433all his—er—seeming viciousness, is not the kind of man to kill his
6434partner. I’d like to delay just a little, to——”
6435
6436“And let Taylor get wind of the thing—and escape. Not by a damned
6437sight! One man’s word is as good as another’s in this country; and it’s
6438your duty as a judge of the court, here, to act upon any complaint. You
6439issue the warrant. I’ll get Keats to serve it. He’ll bring Taylor here,
6440and you can legally examine him. That’s merely justice!”
6441
6442Half an hour later, Carrington was handing the warrant to a big,
6443rough-looking man with an habitual and cruel droop to the corners of his
6444mouth.
6445
6446“You’d better take some men with you, Keats,” suggested Carrington.
6447“He’ll fight, most likely,” he grinned, evilly. “Understand,” he added;
6448“if you should have to kill Taylor bringing him in, there would be no
6449inquiry made. And—” he looked at Keats and grinned, slowly and
6450deliberately closing an eye.
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455CHAPTER XXV—KEATS LOOKS FOR “SQUINT”
6456
6457
6458Neil Norton had been attending to Taylor’s affairs in Dawes during the
6459latter’s illness, and he had ridden to the Arrow this morning to discuss
6460with Taylor a letter he had received—for Taylor—from a Denver cattle
6461buyer. The inquiry was for Herefords of certain markings and quality,
6462and Norton could give the buyer no information. So Norton had come to
6463Taylor for the information.
6464
6465“The herd is grazing in the Kelso Basin,” Taylor told Norton. Norton
6466knew the Kelso Basin was at least fifteen miles distant from the Arrow
6467ranchhouse—a deep, wide valley directly west, watered by the same river
6468that flowed near the Arrow ranchhouse.
6469
6470“I can’t say, offhand, whether we’ve got what your Denver man wants.” He
6471grinned at Norton, adding: “But it’s a fine morning for a ride, and I
6472haven’t done much riding lately. I’ll go and take a look.”
6473
6474“I’ll be looking, too,” declared Norton. “The _Eagle_ forms are ready
6475for the press, and there isn’t much to do.”
6476
6477Later, Taylor, mounted on Spotted Tail, and Norton on a big, rangy
6478sorrel, the two men rode away. Taylor stopped at the horse corral gate
6479long enough to tell Bud Hemmingway, who was replacing a bar, that he and
6480Norton were riding to the Kelso Basin.
6481
6482And there was one other to whom he had spoken—when he had gone into the
6483house to buckle on his cartridge-belt and pistols, just before he went
6484out to saddle Spotted Tail. It was the girl who had tantalized him while
6485they had been sitting on the rock. She had not spoken frivolously to him
6486inside the house; instead, she had gravely warned him to be “careful;”
6487that his wounds might bother him on a long ride—and that she didn’t
6488want him to suffer a relapse. And she watched him as he and Norton rode
6489away, following the dust-cloud that enveloped them until it vanished
6490into the mists of distance. Then she turned from the door with a sigh,
6491thinking of the fate that had made her dependent upon the charity of the
6492man she loved.
6493
6494To Bud Hemmingway, working at the corral gate about an hour following
6495the departure of Taylor and Norton, there came an insistent demand to
6496look toward Dawes. It was merely one of those absurd impulses founded
6497upon a whim provoked by self-manufactured presentiment—but Bud looked.
6498What he saw caused him to stand erect and stare hard at the trail
6499between Mullarky’s cabin and the Arrow—for about two miles out came a
6500dozen or more riders, their horses traveling fast.
6501
6502For several seconds Bud watched intently, straining his eyes in an
6503effort to distinguish something about the men that would make their
6504identity clear. And then he dropped the hammer he had been working with
6505and ran to the bunkhouse, where he put on his cartridge-belt and pistol.
6506
6507Returning to the bunkhouse door, he stood in it for a time, watching the
6508approaching men. Then he scowled, muttering:
6509
6510“It’s that damned Keats an’ some of his bunch! What in hell are they
6511wantin’ at the Arrow?”
6512
6513Bud was standing near the edge of the front gallery when Keats and his
6514men rode up. There were fourteen of the men, and, like their leader,
6515they were ill-visaged, bepistoled.
6516
6517Marion Harlan had heard the noise of their approach, and she had come to
6518the front door. She stood in the opening, her gaze fixed inquiringly
6519upon the riders, though chiefly upon Keats, whose manner proclaimed him
6520the leader. He looked at Bud.
6521
6522“Hello, Hemmingway!” he greeted, gruffly. “I take it the outfit ain’t
6523in?”
6524
6525“Workin’, Kelso,” returned Bud. Bud’s gaze at Keats was belligerent; he
6526resented the presence of Keats and the men at the Arrow, for he had
6527never liked Keats, and he knew the relations between the visitor and
6528Taylor were strained almost to the point of open antagonism.
6529
6530“What’s eatin’ you guys?” demanded Bud.
6531
6532“Plenty!” stated Keats importantly. He turned to the men.
6533
6534“Scatter!” he commanded; “an’ rustle him up, if he’s anywhere around!
6535Hey!” he shouted at a slender, rat-faced individual. “You an’ Darbey
6536search the house! Two more of you take a look at the bunkhouse—and the
6537rest of you nose around the other buildin’s. Keep your eyes peeled, an’
6538if he goes to gettin’ fresh, plug him plenty!”
6539
6540“Why, what is wrong?” demanded Marion. Her face was pale with
6541indignation, for she resented the authoritative tone used by Keats as
6542much as she resented the thought of the two men entering the house
6543unbidden.
6544
6545Keats’s face flamed with sudden passion. With a snap of his wrist he
6546drew his gun and trained its muzzle on Bud.
6547
6548“Wrong enough!” he snapped. He was looking at Bud while answering Miss
6549Harlan’s question. “I’m after Squint Taylor, an’ I’m goin’ to get
6550him—that’s all! An’ if you folks go to interferin’ it’ll be the worse
6551for you!”
6552
6553Marion stiffened and braced herself in the doorway, her eyes wide with
6554dread and her lips parted to ask the question that Bud now spoke, his
6555voice drawling slightly with sarcasm.
6556
6557“Taylor, eh?” he said. “What you wantin’ with Taylor?”
6558
6559“I’m wantin’ him for murderin’ Larry Harlan!” snapped Keats.
6560
6561Bud gulped, drew a deep breath and went pale. He looked at Marion, and
6562saw that the girl was terribly moved by Keats’s words. But neither the
6563girl nor Bud spoke while Keats dismounted, crossed the porch, and
6564stopped in front of the door, which was barred by the girl’s body.
6565
6566“Get out of the way—I’m goin’ in!” ordered Keats.
6567
6568The girl moved aside to let him pass, and as he crossed the threshold
6569she asked, weakly:
6570
6571“How do you—how do they know Mr. Taylor killed Larry Harlan?”
6572
6573Keats turned on her, grinning mirthlessly.
6574
6575“How do we know anything?” he jeered. “Evidence—that’s what—an’ plenty
6576of it!”
6577
6578Keats vanished inside, and Bud, his eyes snapping with the alert glances
6579he threw around him, slowly backed away from the porch toward the
6580stable. As he turned, after backing several feet, he saw Marion walk
6581slowly to a rocker that stood on the porch, drop weakly into it and
6582cover her face with her hands.
6583
6584Gaining the stable, Bud worked fast; throwing a saddle and bridle upon
6585King, the speediest horse in the Arrow outfit, excepting Spotted Tail.
6586
6587With movements that he tried hard to make casual, but with an impatience
6588that made his heart pound heavily, he got King out and led him to the
6589rear of the stable.
6590
6591Some of Keats’s men were running from one building to another; but he
6592was not Taylor, and they seemed to pay no attention to him, beyond
6593giving him sharp glances.
6594
6595Passing behind the blacksmith-shop, Bud heard a voice saying:
6596
6597“Dead or alive, Keats says; an’ they’d admire to have him dead. I heard
6598Carrington tellin’ Keats!”
6599
6600As the sound of the voice died away, Bud touched King’s flank with the
6601spurs. The big horse, after a day in the stable, was impatient and eager
6602for a run, and he swept past the scattered buildings of the ranch with
6603long, swift leaps that took him out upon the plains before Keats could
6604complete his search of the first floor of the house.
6605
6606The two men who had searched the upper floor came downstairs, to meet
6607Keats in the front room. They grimly shook their heads at Keats, and at
6608his orders went outside to search with the other men.
6609
6610Keats stepped to the door, saw Marion sitting limply in the
6611rocking-chair, her shoulders convulsed with sobs, and crossed to her,
6612shaking her with a brutal arm.
6613
6614“Where’s that guy I left standin’ there? Where’s he—Hemmingway?”
6615
6616“I don’t know,” said the girl dully.
6617
6618Keats cursed and ran to the edge of the porch. With his gaze sweeping
6619the buildings, the pasture, the corrals, and the wide stretch of plain
6620westward, he stiffened, calling angrily to his men:
6621
6622“There he goes—damn him! It’s that sneakin’ Bud Hemmingway, an’ he’s
6623gone to tell Taylor we’re after him! He knows where Taylor is! Get your
6624hosses!”
6625
6626Forced to her feet by the intense activity that followed Keats’s loudly
6627bellowed orders, the girl crossed the porch, and from a point near the
6628end railing watched Keats and his men clamber into their saddles and
6629race after Bud. For a long time she watched them—a tiny blot gliding
6630over the plains, followed by a larger blot—and then she walked slowly
6631to the rocking-chair, looked down at it as though its spaciousness
6632invited her; then she turned from it, entered the house, and going to
6633her room—where Martha was sleeping—began feverishly throwing her few
6634belongings into the small handbag she had brought with her from the big
6635house.
6636
6637
6638
6639
6640CHAPTER XXVI—KEATS FINDS “SQUINT”
6641
6642
6643Looking back after he had been riding for some minutes, Bud saw a dozen
6644or more horses break from the group of Arrow buildings and come racing
6645toward him, spreading out fanwise.
6646
6647“They’ve seen me!” breathed Bud, and he leaned over King’s shoulders and
6648spoke to him. The animal responded with a burst of speed that brought a
6649smile to Bud’s face. For the puncher knew that Taylor and Norton
6650couldn’t have traveled more than a few miles in the short time that had
6651passed since their departure; and he knew also that in a short run—of a
6652dozen miles or so—there wasn’t a horse in the Dawes section that could
6653catch King, barring, of course, Spotted Tail, the real king of range
6654horses.
6655
6656And so Bud bent eagerly to his work, not riding erect in the saddle as
6657is the fashion of the experienced cow-puncher in an unfamiliar country,
6658where pitfalls, breaks, draws, hidden gullies, and weed-grown barrancas
6659provide hazards that might bring disaster. Bud knew this section of the
6660country as well as he knew the interior of the bunkhouse, and with his
6661knowledge came a confidence that nothing would happen to him or King,
6662except possibly a slip into a gopher hole.
6663
6664And Bud kept scanning the country far enough ahead to keep King from
6665running into a gopher town. He swung the animal wide in passing
6666them—for he knew it was the habit of these denizens of the plains to
6667extend their habitat—some venturesome and independent spirits straying
6668far from the huddle and congestion of the multitude.
6669
6670Bud looked back many times during the first two miles, and he saw that
6671Keats and his men were losing ground; their horses could not keep the
6672pace set by the big bay flier under Bud.
6673
6674And King was not going as he could go when the necessity arrived. This
6675ride was a frolic for the big bay, and yet Bud knew he must not force
6676him, that he must conserve his wind, for if Taylor and Norton had
6677yielded to a whim to hurry, even King would need all his speed and
6678endurance to hang on. For the sorrel that had accompanied Spotted Tail
6679was not so greatly inferior to King that the latter could take liberties
6680with him.
6681
6682Bud gloated as he looked back after he had covered another mile. Keats
6683and his men were still losing ground, though they were not so very far
6684back, either—Bud could almost see the faces of the men. But that, Bud
6685knew, was due to the marvelous clarity of the atmosphere.
6686
6687When the sides of the big hills surrounding the level began to sweep
6688inward rapidly, Bud knew that the grass level was coming to an end, and
6689that presently he would strike a long stretch of broken country. Beyond
6690that was a big valley, rich and fertile, in which, according to report,
6691the Arrow herd should be grazing, guarded by the men of the outfit,
6692under Bothwell. But Kelso Basin was still nine or ten miles distant, and
6693Bud did not yet dare to let the big bay horse run his best.
6694
6695Still, when they flashed by a huge promontory that stood sentinel-like
6696above the waters of the river—a spot well remembered by Bud, because
6697many times while on day duty he had lain prone on its top smoking and
6698dreaming—King was running as lightly as a leaf before the hurricane.
6699
6700King had entered the section of broken country, with its beds of rock
6701and lava, and huge boulders strewn here and there, relics of gigantic
6702upheavals when the earth was young; and Bud was skilfully directing King
6703to the stretches of smooth level that he found here and there, when far
6704ahead he saw Taylor and Norton.
6705
6706In ten minutes he was within hailing distance, and he grinned widely
6707when, hearing him, they pulled their horses to a halt and, wheeling,
6708faced him.
6709
6710For Bud saw that they had reached a spot which would make an admirable
6711defensive position, should Taylor decide to resist Keats. The hills, in
6712their gradual inward sweep, were close together, so that their crests
6713seemed to nod to one another. And a little farther down, Bud knew, they
6714formed a gorge, which still farther on merged into a cañon. It was an
6715ideal position for a stand—if Taylor would stand and not run for it;
6716and he rather thought Taylor would not run.
6717
6718Taylor had ridden toward Bud, and was a hundred feet in advance of
6719Norton when Bud pulled King to a halt, shouting:
6720
6721“Keats and a dozen men are right behind me—a mile; mebbe two! He’s got
6722a warrant for you, chargin’ you with murderin’ Larry Harlan! I heard one
6723of his scum sayin’ it was to be a clean-up!”
6724
6725Taylor laughed; he did not seem to be at all interested in Keats or his
6726men, who at that instant were riding at a pace that was likely to kill
6727their horses, should they be forced to maintain it.
6728
6729“Who accused me of murdering Harlan?”
6730
6731“Keats didn’t say. But I heard a guy sayin’ that Carrington was wantin’
6732Keats to take you dead!”
6733
6734The cold gleam in Taylor’s eyes and the slight, stiff grin that wreathed
6735his lips, indicated that he had determined that Keats would have to kill
6736him before taking him.
6737
6738“A dozen of them, eh?” he said, looking from Bud to Norton deliberately.
6739“Well, that’s a bunch for three men to fight, but it isn’t enough to run
6740from. We’ll stay here and have it out with them. That is,” he added with
6741a quick, quizzical look at the two men, “if one of you is determined to
6742stay.”
6743
6744“One of us?” flared Bud. He gazed hard at Norton, with suspicion and
6745belligerence in his glance. Norton flushed at the look. “I reckon we’ll
6746both be in at the finish,” added Bud.
6747
6748“Only one,” declared Taylor. “We might hold a dozen men off here for a
6749good many hours. But if they were wise and patient they’d get us. One
6750man will light out for Kelso Basin to get the outfit. Settle it between
6751you, but be quick about it!”
6752
6753Taylor swung down from his horse, led the animal out of sight behind a
6754jutting crag into a sort of pocket in the side of the gorge, where there
6755would be no danger of the magnificent beast being struck by a bullet.
6756Taylor pulled his rifle from its saddle-sheath, examined the mechanism,
6757looked at his pistols, and then returned to where Bud Hemmingway and
6758Neil Norton sat on their horses.
6759
6760Bud’s face was flushed and Norton was grinning. And at just the instant
6761Taylor came in sight of them Norton was saying:
6762
6763“Well, if you insist, I suppose I shall have to go to Kelso. There isn’t
6764time to argue.”
6765
6766Norton wheeled his horse, and, with a quick grin at Taylor, sent the
6767animal clattering down the gorge.
6768
6769Bud’s grin at Taylor was pregnant with guilt.
6770
6771“Norton didn’t want me to stay. There’s lots of stubborn cusses in the
6772world—now, ain’t they?”
6773
6774Taylor’s answering smile showed that he understood.
6775
6776“Get King back here with Spotted Tail, Bud!” he directed. “And take that
6777pile of rocks for cover. They’re coming!”
6778
6779By the time Bud did as he had been bidden, and was crouching behind a
6780huge mound of broken rock on the north side of the gorge, Taylor on the
6781southern side, with a twenty-foot passage on the comparatively level
6782floor of the gorge between them, and an uninterrupted sweep of narrow
6783level in front of them, except for here and there a jutting rock or a
6784boulder, they saw Keats and his men just entering the stretch of broken
6785country.
6786
6787The horses of the pursuing outfit were doing their best. They came on
6788over the stretch of treacherous trail, laboring, pounding and
6789clattering; singly sometimes, two and three abreast where there was
6790room, keeping well together, their riders urging them with quirt and
6791spur. For far back on the trail they had lost sight of Bud, though Keats
6792had remembered that Bud had said Taylor had gone to Kelso Basin, and
6793therefore Keats knew he was on the right trail.
6794
6795However, he did not want to let Bud get to Kelso before him to warn the
6796Arrow outfit; for that would mean a desperate battle with a force equal
6797in numbers to his own. Keats fought best when the advantages were with
6798him, and he knew his men were similarly constituted. And so he was
6799riding as hard as he dared, hoping that something would happen to Bud’s
6800horse—that the animal might become winded or fall. A man could not tell
6801what _might_ happen in a pursuit of this character.
6802
6803But the thing that _did_ happen had not figured in Keats’s lurid
6804conjectures at all. That was why, when he heard Taylor’s quick
6805challenge, he pulled his horse up sharply, so that the animal slipped
6806several feet and came to a halt sidewise.
6807
6808Keats’s unexpected halt brought confusion to his followers. A dozen of
6809them, crowding Keats hard, and not noticing their leader’s halt in time,
6810rode straight against him, their horses jamming the narrow gorge,
6811kicking, snorting and squealing in a disordered and uncontrollable mass.
6812
6813When the tangle had been magically undone—the magic being Taylor’s
6814voice again, burdened with sarcasm bearing upon their excitement—Keats
6815found himself nearest the nest of rocks from behind which Taylor’s voice
6816seemed to come.
6817
6818The jutting crag behind which Taylor had concealed his horse, and where
6819Bud had led King, completely obstructed Keats’s view of the gorge behind
6820the crag, toward Kelso Basin, and Keats did not know but that the entire
6821Arrow outfit was concealed behind the rocks and boulders that littered
6822the level in the vicinity.
6823
6824And so he sat motionless, slowly and respectfully raising his hands.
6825Noting his action, his men did likewise.
6826
6827“That’s polite,” came Taylor’s voice coldly. “Hemmingway says you’re
6828looking for me. What for?”
6829
6830“I’ve got a warrant for you, chargin’ you with murderin’ Larry Harlan.”
6831
6832“Who accused me?”
6833
6834“Mint Morton, of Nogel.”
6835
6836There was a long silence. Behind the clump of rock Taylor smiled
6837mirthlessly at Bud, who was watching him. For Taylor knew Mint Morton,
6838of Nogel, as a gambler, unscrupulous and dishonest. He had earned
6839Morton’s hatred when one night in a Nogel saloon he had caught Morton
6840cheating and had forced him to disgorge his winnings. His victim had
6841been a miner on his way East with the earnings of five years in his
6842pockets. Taylor had not been able to endure the spectacle of abject
6843despair that had followed the man’s loss of all his money.
6844
6845Taylor did not know that Carrington had hunted Morton up, paying him
6846well to bring the murder charge, but Taylor did know that he was
6847innocent of murder; and by linking Morton with Carrington he could
6848readily understand why Keats wanted him. He broke the silence with a
6849short:
6850
6851“Who issued the warrant?”
6852
6853“Judge Littlefield.”
6854
6855“Well,” said Taylor, “you can take it right back to him and tell him to
6856let Carrington serve it. For,” he added, a note of grim humor creeping
6857into his voice, “I’m a heap particular about such things, Keats. I
6858couldn’t let a sneak like you take me in. And I don’t like the looks of
6859that dirty-looking outfit with you. And so I’m telling you a few things.
6860I’m giving you one minute to hit the breeze out of this section. If
6861you’re here when that time is up, I down _you_, Keats! Slope!”
6862
6863Keats flashed one glance around at his men. Some of them already had
6864their horses in motion; others were nervously fingering their
6865bridle-reins. Keats sneered at the rock nest ahead of him.
6866
6867The intense silence which followed Taylor’s warning lasted about ten
6868seconds. Then Keats’s face paled; he wheeled his horse and sent it
6869scampering over the back trail, his men following, crowding him hard.
6870
6871
6872
6873
6874CHAPTER XXVII—BESIEGED
6875
6876
6877Hemmingway tentatively suggested that a ride through the gorge toward
6878the Kelso Basin might simplify matters for himself and Taylor; it might,
6879he said, even seem to make the defending of their position unnecessary.
6880But his suggestions met with no enthusiasm from Taylor, who lounged
6881among the rocks of his place of concealment calmly smoking.
6882
6883Taylor gave some reasons for his disinclination to adopt Hemmingway’s
6884suggestions.
6885
6886“Norton will be back in an hour, with Bothwell and the outfit.” And now
6887he grinned as he looked at Bud. “Miss Harlan told me to be careful about
6888my scratches. I take it she don’t want no more sieges with a sick man.
6889And I’m taking her advice. If I’d go to riding my horse like blazes,
6890maybe I _would_ get sick again. And she wouldn’t take care of me
6891anymore. And I’d hate like blazes to run from Keats and his bunch of
6892plug-uglies!”
6893
6894So Hemmingway said no more on that subject.
6895
6896They smoked and talked and watched the trail for signs of Keats and his
6897men; while the sun, which had been behind the towering hills surrounding
6898the gorge, traveled slowly above them, finally blazing down from a point
6899directly overhead.
6900
6901It became hot in the gorge; the air was stifling and the heat
6902uncomfortable. Taylor did not seem to mind it, but Bud, with a vigorous
6903appetite, and longings that ran to flapjacks and sirup, grew impatient.
6904
6905“If a man could eat now,” he remarked once, while the sun was directly
6906overhead, “why, it wouldn’t be so bad!”
6907
6908And then, after the sun’s blazing rays had begun to diminish in
6909intensity somewhat, Bud looked upward and saw that the shimmering orb
6910had passed beyond the crest of a towering hill. He looked sharply at
6911Taylor, who was intently watching the back trail, and said gravely:
6912
6913“Norton ought to have been back with Bothwell and the bunch, now.”
6914
6915“He’s an hour overdue,” said Taylor, without looking at Bud.
6916
6917“I reckon somethin’s happened,” growled Bud. “Somethin’ always happens
6918when a guy’s holed up, like this. It wouldn’t be so bad if a man could
6919eat a little somethin’—to sort of keep him from thinkin’ of it all the
6920time. Or, mebbe, if there was a little excitement—or somethin’. A man
6921could——”
6922
6923“There’ll be plenty of excitement before long,” interrupted Taylor.
6924“Keats and his gang didn’t go very far. I just saw one of them sneaking
6925along that rock-knob, down the gorge a piece. They’re going to stalk us.
6926If you’re thinking of riding to Kelso—why—” He grinned at Bud’s
6927resentful scowl.
6928
6929Lying flat on his stomach, he watched the rock-knob he had mentioned.
6930
6931“Slick as an Indian,” he remarked once, while Bud, having ceased his
6932discontented mutterings, kept his gaze on the rock also.
6933
6934And then suddenly the eery silence of the gorge was broken by the sharp
6935crack of Taylor’s rifle, and, simultaneously, by a shriek of pain.
6936Report and shriek reverberated with weird, echoing cadences between the
6937hills, growing less distinct always and finally the eery silence reigned
6938again.
6939
6940“They’ll know they can’t get careless, now,” grinned Taylor, working the
6941ejector of his rifle.
6942
6943Bud did not reply; and for another hour both men intently scanned the
6944hills within range of their vision, straining their eyes to detect signs
6945of movement that would warn them of the whereabouts of Keats and his
6946men.
6947
6948Anxiously Bud watched the rays of the sun creeping up a precipitous rock
6949wall at a little distance. Slowly the streak of light narrowed, growing
6950always less brilliant, and finally, when it vanished, Bud spoke:
6951
6952“It’s comin’ on night, Squint. Somethin’s sure happened to Norton.” He
6953wriggled impatiently, adding: “If we’re here when night comes we’ll have
6954a picnic keepin’ them guys off of us.”
6955
6956Taylor said nothing until the gorge began to darken with the shadows of
6957twilight. Then he looked at Bud, his face grim.
6958
6959“My stubbornness,” he said shortly. “I should have taken your advice
6960about going to Kelso Basin—when we had a chance. But I felt certain
6961that Norton would have the outfit here before this. Our chance is gone,
6962now. There are some of Keats’s men in the hills, around us. I just saw
6963one jump behind that rim rock on the shoulder of that big hill—there.”
6964He indicated the spot. Then he again spoke to Bud.
6965
6966“There’s a chance yet—for you. You take Spotted Tail and make a run for
6967the basin. I’ll cover you.”
6968
6969“What about you?” grumbled Bud.
6970
6971Taylor grinned, and Bud laughed. “You was only funnin’ me, I reckon,” he
6972said, earnestly. “You knowed I wouldn’t slope an’ leave you to fight it
6973out alone—now didn’t you?”
6974
6975“But if a man was hungry,” said Taylor, “and he knew there was grub with
6976the outfit——”
6977
6978“I ain’t hungry no more,” declared Bud; “I’ve quit thinkin’ of flapjacks
6979for more than——”
6980
6981He stiffened, and the first shadows of the night were split by a long,
6982narrow flame-streak as his rifle crashed. And a man who had been
6983slipping into the shelter of a depression on the side of a hill a
6984hundred yards distant, tumbled grotesquely out and down, and went
6985sliding to the bottom of the gorge.
6986
6987As though the report of Bud’s rifle were a signal, a dozen vivid jets of
6988fire flamed from various points in the surrounding hills, and the
6989silence was rent by the vicious cracking of rifles and the drone and
6990thud of bullets as they sped over the heads of the two men at the bottom
6991of the gorge and flattened themselves against the rocks of their
6992shelter.
6993
6994That sound, too, died away. And in the heavy, portentous stillness which
6995succeeded it, there came to the ears of the two besieged men the sounds
6996of distant shouting, faint and far.
6997
6998“It’s the outfit!” said Taylor.
6999
7000And Bud, rolling over and over in an excess of joy over the coming of
7001the Arrow men, hugged an imaginary form and yelled:
7002
7003“Oh, Bothwell, you old son-of-a-gun! How I love you!”
7004
7005
7006
7007
7008CHAPTER XXVIII—THE FUGITIVE
7009
7010
7011One thought dominated Marion Harlan’s brain as she packed her belongings
7012into the little handbag in her room at the Arrow—an overpowering,
7013monstrous, hideous conviction that she had accepted charity from the man
7014who was accused of murdering her father! There was no room in her brain
7015for other thoughts or emotions; she was conscious of nothing but the
7016horror of it; of the terrible uncertainty that confronted her—of the
7017dread that Taylor _might_ be guilty! She wanted to believe in him—she
7018_did_ believe in him, she told herself as she packed the bag; she could
7019not accept the word of Keats as final. And yet she could not stay at the
7020Arrow another minute—she could not endure the uncertainty. She must go
7021away somewhere—anywhere, until the charge were proved, or until she
7022could see Taylor, to look into his eyes, there to see his guilt or
7023innocence.
7024
7025She felt that the charge could not be true; for Taylor had treated her
7026so fairly; he had been so sympathetically friendly; he had seemed to
7027share her grief over her father’s death, and he had seemed so sincere in
7028his declaration of his friendliness toward the man. He had even seemed
7029to share her grief; and in the hallowed moments during which he had
7030stood beside her while she had looked into her father’s room, he might
7031have been secretly laughing at her!
7032
7033And into her heart as she stood in the room, now, there crept a mighty
7034shame—and the shadow of her mother’s misconduct never came so close as
7035it did now. For she, too, had violated the laws of propriety; and what
7036she was receiving was not more than her just due. And yet, though she
7037could blame herself for coming to the Arrow, she could not excuse
7038Taylor’s heinous conduct if he were guilty.
7039
7040And then, the first fierce passion burning itself out, there followed
7041the inevitable reaction—the numbing, staggering, sorrowing realization
7042of loss. This in turn was succeeded by a frenzied desire to go away from
7043the Arrow—from everybody and everything—to some place where none of
7044them would ever see her again.
7045
7046She started toward the door, and met Parsons—who was looking for her.
7047He darted forward when he saw her, and grasped her by the shoulders.
7048
7049“What has happened?” he demanded.
7050
7051She told him, and the man’s face whitened.
7052
7053“I was asleep, and heard nothing of it,” he said. “So that man Keats
7054said they had plenty of evidence! You are going away? I wouldn’t, girl;
7055there may have been a mistake. If I were you——”
7056
7057Her glance of horror brought Parsons’ protests to an end quickly. He,
7058too, she thought, was under the spell of Taylor’s magnetism. That, or
7059every person she knew was a prey to those vicious and fawning instincts
7060to which she had yielded—the subordination of principle to greed—of
7061ease, or of wealth, or of place.
7062
7063She shuddered with sudden repugnance.
7064
7065For the first time she had a doubt of Parsons—a revelation of that
7066character which he had always succeeded in keeping hidden from her. She
7067drew away from him and walked to the door, telling him that _he_ might
7068stay, but that she did not intend to remain in the house another minute.
7069
7070She found a horse in the stable—two, in fact—the ones Taylor had
7071insisted belonged to her and Martha. She threw saddle and bridle on
7072hers, and was mounting, when she saw Martha standing at the stable door,
7073watching her.
7074
7075“Yo’ uncle says you goin’ away, honey—how’s that? An’ he done say
7076somethin’ about Mr. Squint killin’ your father. Doan’ you b’lieve no
7077fool nonsense like that! Mr. Squint wouldn’t kill nobody’s father! That
7078deputy man ain’t nothin’ but a damn, no-good liar!”
7079
7080Martha’s vehemence was genuine, but not convincing; and the girl mounted
7081the horse, hanging the handbag from the pommel of the saddle.
7082
7083“You’s sure goin’!” screamed the negro woman, frantic with a dread that
7084she was in danger of losing the girl for whom she had formed a deep
7085affection.
7086
7087“You wait—you hear!” she demanded; “if you leave this house I’s a
7088goin’, too!”
7089
7090Marion waited until Martha led the other horse out, and then, with the
7091negro woman following, she rode eastward on the Dawes trail, not once
7092looking back.
7093
7094And not a word did she say to Martha as they rode into the space that
7095stretched to Dawes, for the girl’s heart was heavy with self-accusation.
7096
7097They stopped for an instant at Mullarky’s cabin, and Mrs. Mullarky drew
7098from the girl the story of the morning’s happenings. And like Martha,
7099Mrs. Mullarky had an abiding faith in Taylor’s innocence. More—she
7100scorned the charge of murder against him.
7101
7102“Squint Taylor murder your father, child! Why, Squint Taylor thought
7103more of Larry Harlan than he does of his right hand. An’ you ain’t goin’
7104to run away from him—for the very good reason that I ain’t goin’ to let
7105you! You’re upset—that’s what—an’ you can’t think as straight as you
7106ought to. You come right in here an’ sip a cup of tea, an’ take a rest.
7107I’ll put your horses away. If you don’t want to stay at the Arrow while
7108Taylor, the judge, an’ all the rest of them are pullin’ the packin’ out
7109of that case, why, you can stay right here!”
7110
7111Yielding to the insistent demands of the good woman, Marion meekly
7112consented and went inside. And Mrs. Mullarky tried to make her
7113comfortable, and attempted to soothe her and assure her of Taylor’s
7114innocence.
7115
7116But the girl was not convinced; and late in the afternoon, despite Mrs.
7117Mullarky’s protests, she again mounted her horse and, followed by
7118Martha, set out toward Dawes, intending to take the first east-bound
7119train out of the town, to ride as far as the meager amount of money in
7120her purse would take her. And as she rode, the sun went down behind the
7121big hill on whose crest sat the big house, looming down upon the level
7122from its lofty eminence; and the twilight came, bathing the world with
7123its somber promise of greater darkness to follow. But the darkness that
7124was coming over the world could not be greater than that which reigned
7125in the girl’s heart.
7126
7127
7128
7129
7130CHAPTER XXIX—THE CAPTIVE
7131
7132
7133Carrington’s experiences with Taylor had not dulled the man’s savage
7134impulses, nor had they cooled his feverish desire for the possession of
7135Marion Harlan. In his brain rioted the dark, unbridled passions of those
7136progenitors he had claimed in his talk with Parsons on the morning he
7137had throttled the little man in his rooms above the Castle.
7138
7139For the moment he had postponed the real beginning of his campaign for
7140the possession of Dawes, his venomous hatred for Taylor and his passion
7141for the girl overwhelming his greed.
7142
7143He had watched the departure of Keats and his men, a flush of exultation
7144on his face, his eyes alight with fires that reflected the malignant
7145hatred he felt. And when Keats and the others disappeared down the trail
7146that led to the Arrow, Carrington spent some time in Dawes. Shortly
7147after noon he rode out the river trail toward the big house with two men
7148that he had engaged to set the interior in order.
7149
7150Carrington had not seen the house since the fight with Taylor in the
7151front room, and the wreck and ruin that met his gaze as he stood in the
7152door brought a sullen pout to his lips.
7153
7154But he intended to exact heavy punishment for what had occurred at the
7155big house; and as he watched the men setting things to order—mending
7156the doors and repairing the broken furniture—he drew mental pictures
7157that made his eyes flash with pleasure.
7158
7159He felt that by this time Keats and his men should have settled with
7160Taylor. After that, he, himself, would make the girl pay.
7161
7162So he was having the house put in order, that it would again be
7163habitable; and then, when that was done, and Taylor out of the way, he
7164would go to the Arrow after the girl. But before he went to the Arrow he
7165would await the return of Keats with the news that Taylor would no
7166longer be able to thwart him.
7167
7168Never in his life had he met a man he feared as he feared Taylor. There
7169was something about Taylor that made Carrington’s soul shrivel. He knew
7170what it was—it was his conviction of Taylor’s absolute honorableness,
7171as arrayed against his own beastly impulses. But that knowledge merely
7172served to intensify his hatred for Taylor.
7173
7174Toward evening Carrington rode back to Dawes with the men; and while
7175there he sought news from Keats. Danforth, from whom he inquired, could
7176tell him nothing, and so Carrington knew that Taylor had not yet been
7177disposed of. But Carrington knew the time would not be long now; and in
7178a resort of a questionable character he found two men who listened
7179eagerly to his proposals. Later, the two men accompanying him, he again
7180rode to the big house.
7181
7182And just as dusk began to settle over the big level at the foot of the
7183long slope—and while the last glowing light from the day still softly
7184bathed the big house, throwing it into bold relief on the crest of its
7185flat-topped hill, Carrington was standing on the front porch,
7186impatiently scanning the basin for signs of Keats and his men.
7187
7188For a time he could distinguish little in the basin, for the mists of
7189twilight were heavy down there. And then a moving object far out in the
7190basin caught his gaze, and he leaned forward, peering intently, consumed
7191with eagerness and curiosity.
7192
7193A few minutes later, still staring into the basin, Carrington became
7194aware that there were two moving objects. They were headed toward Dawes,
7195and proceeding slowly; and at last, when they came nearer and he saw
7196they were two women, on horses, he stiffened and shaded his eyes with
7197his hands. And then he exclaimed sharply, and his eyes glowed with
7198triumph—for he had recognized the women as Marion Harlan and Martha.
7199
7200Moving slowly, so that he might not attract the attention of the women,
7201should they happen to be looking toward the big house, he went inside
7202and spoke shortly to the two men he had brought with him.
7203
7204An instant later the three, Carrington leading, rode into the timber
7205surrounding the house, filed silently through it, and with their horses
7206in a slow trot, sank down the long slope that led into the big basin.
7207
7208For a time they were not visible, as they worked their way through the
7209chaparral on a little level near the bottom of the slope; and then they
7210came into view again in some tall saccaton grass that grew as high as
7211the backs of their horses.
7212
7213They might have been swimming in that much water, for all the sound they
7214made as they headed through the grass toward the Dawes trail, for they
7215made no sound, and only their heads and the heads of their horses
7216appeared above the swaying grass.
7217
7218But they were seen. Martha, riding at a little distance behind Marion,
7219and straining her eyes to watch the trail ahead, noted the movement in
7220the saccaton, and called sharply to the girl:
7221
7222“They’s somethin’ movin’ in that grass off to your right, honey! It
7223wouldn’t be no cattle, heah; they’s never no cattle round heah, fo’ they
7224ain’t no water. Lawsey!” she exclaimed, as she got a clear view of them;
7225“it’s men!”
7226
7227Marion halted her horse. Martha’s voice had startled her, for she had
7228not been thinking of the present; her thoughts had been centered on
7229Taylor.
7230
7231A shiver of trepidation ran over her, though, when she saw the men, and
7232she gathered the reins tightly in her hands, ready to wheel the animal
7233under her should the appearance of the men indicate the imminence of
7234danger.
7235
7236And when she saw that danger did indeed threaten, she spoke to the horse
7237and turned it toward the back trail. For she had recognized one of the
7238three men as Carrington.
7239
7240But the horse had not taken a dozen leaps before Carrington was beside
7241her, his hand at her bridle. And as her horse came to a halt,
7242Carrington’s animal lunged against it, bringing the two riders close
7243together. Carrington leaned over, his face close to hers; she could feel
7244his breath in her face as he laughed jeeringly, his voice vibrating with
7245passion:
7246
7247“So it _is_ you, eh? I thought for a moment that I had made a mistake!”
7248Holding to her horse’s bridle-rein with a steady pull that kept the
7249horses close together, he spoke sharply to the two men who had halted
7250near Martha: “Get the nigger! I’ll take care of this one!”
7251
7252And instantly, with a brutal, ruthless strength and energy that took the
7253girl completely by surprise, Carrington threw a swift arm out, grasped
7254her by the waist, drew her out of the saddle, and swung her into his
7255own, crosswise, so that she lay face up, looking at him.
7256
7257She fought him then, silently, ferociously, though futilely. For he
7258caught her hands, using both his own, pinning hers so that she could not
7259use them, meanwhile laughing lowly at her efforts to escape.
7260
7261Even in the dusk she could see the smiling, savage exultation in his
7262eyes; the gloating, vindictive triumph, and her soul revolted at the
7263horror in store for her, and the knowledge nerved her to another mighty
7264effort. Tearing her hands free, she fought him again, scratching his
7265face, striking him with all her force with her fists; squirming and
7266twisting, even biting one of his hands when it came close to her lips as
7267he essayed to grasp her throat, his eyes gleaming with ruthless
7268malignance.
7269
7270But her efforts availed little. In the end her arms were pinned again to
7271her sides, and he pulled a rope from his saddle-horn and bound them.
7272Then, as she lay back and glared at him, muttering imprecations that
7273brought a mocking smile to his lips, he urged his horse forward, and
7274sent it clattering up the slope, the two men following with Martha.
7275
7276
7277
7278
7279CHAPTER XXX—PARSONS HAS HUMAN INSTINCTS
7280
7281
7282Elam Parsons stood on the front porch of the Arrow ranchhouse for a long
7283time after Marion and Martha departed, watching them as they slowly
7284negotiated the narrow trail that led toward Dawes. Something of the
7285man’s guilt assailed his consciousness as he stood there—a conception
7286of the miserable part he had played in the girl’s life.
7287
7288No doubt had not Fate and Carrington played a mean trick on Parsons, in
7289robbing him of his money and his prospects, the man would not have
7290entertained the thoughts he entertained at this moment; for success
7291would have made a reckoning with conscience a remote possibility, dim
7292and far.
7293
7294And perhaps it was not conscience that was now troubling Parsons; at
7295least Parsons did not lay the burden of his present thoughts upon so
7296intangible a chimera. Parsons was too much of a materialist to admit he
7297had a conscience.
7298
7299But a twinge of something seized Parsons as he watched the girl ride
7300away, and bitter thoughts racked his soul. He could not, however,
7301classify his emotions, and so he stood there on the porch, undecided,
7302vacillating, in the grip of a vague disquiet.
7303
7304Parsons sat on the porch until long after noon; for, after Marion and
7305Martha had vanished into the haze of distance, Parsons dropped into a
7306chair and let his chin sink to his chest.
7307
7308He did not get up to prepare food for himself; he did not think of
7309eating, for the big, silent ranchhouse and the gloomy, vacant appearance
7310of the other buildings drew the man’s attention to the aching emptiness
7311of his own life. He had sought to gain everything—scheming, planning,
7312plotting dishonestly; taking unfair advantage; robbing people without
7313compunction—and he had gained nothing. Yes—he had gained Carrington’s
7314contempt!
7315
7316The recollection of Carrington’s treatment of him fired his passions
7317with a thousand licking, leaping flames. In his gloomy meditations over
7318the departure of the girl, he had almost forgotten Carrington. But he
7319thought of Carrington now; and he sat stiff and rigid in the chair,
7320glowering, his lips in a pout, his soul searing with hatred.
7321
7322But even the nursing of that passion failed to satisfy Parsons.
7323Something lacked. There was still that conviction of utter baseness—his
7324own baseness—to torture him. And at last, toward evening, he discovered
7325that he longed for the girl. He wanted to be near her; he wanted to do
7326something for her to undo the wrong he had done her; he wanted to make
7327some sort of reparation.
7328
7329So the man assured himself. But he knew that deep in his inner
7330consciousness lurked the dread knowledge that Taylor was aware of his
7331baseness. For Taylor had overheard the conversation between Carrington
7332and himself on the train, and Parsons feared that should Taylor by any
7333chance escape Keats and his men and return to the Arrow to find Marion
7334gone, he would vent his rage and fury upon the man who had sinned
7335against the woman he loved. That was the emotion which dominated Parsons
7336as he sat on the porch; it was the emotion that made the man fervently
7337desire to make reparation to the girl; it was the emotion that finally
7338moved him out of his chair and upon a horse that he found in the stable,
7339to ride toward Dawes in the hope of finding her.
7340
7341Parsons, too, stopped at the Mullarky cabin. He discovered that Marion
7342had left there shortly before, after having refused Mrs. Mullarky’s
7343proffer of shelter until the charge against Taylor could be disproved.
7344
7345Parsons listened impatiently to the woman’s voluble defense of Taylor,
7346and her condemnation of Keats and all those who were leagued against the
7347Arrow owner. And then Parsons rode on.
7348
7349Far out in the basin, indistinct in the twilight haze, he saw Marion and
7350Martha riding toward Dawes, and he urged his horse in an effort to come
7351up with them before they reached the bottom of the long, gradual rise
7352that would take them into town.
7353
7354Parsons had got within half a mile of them when he saw them halt and
7355wait the coming of three horsemen, who advanced toward them from the
7356opposite direction. Parsons did not feel like joining the group, for
7357just at that moment he felt as though he could not bear to have anyone
7358see his face—they might have discovered the guilt in it—and so he
7359waited.
7360
7361He saw the three men ride close to the other riders; he watched in
7362astonishment while one of the strange riders pursued one of the women,
7363catching her.
7364
7365Parsons saw it all. But he did not ride forward, for he was in the grip
7366of a mighty terror that robbed him of power to move. For he knew one of
7367the strange riders was Carrington. He would have recognized him among a
7368thousand other men.
7369
7370Parsons watched the three men climb the big slope that led to the great
7371house on the flat-topped hill. For many minutes after they had reached
7372the crest of the hill Parsons sat motionless on his horse, gazing
7373upward. And when he saw a light flare up in one of the rooms of the big
7374house, he cursed, his face convulsed with impotent rage.
7375
7376 * * * * *
7377
7378Marion Harlan did not yield to the overpowering weakness that seized her
7379after she realized that further resistance to Carrington would be
7380useless. And instead of yielding to the hysteria that threatened her,
7381she clenched her hands and bit her lips in an effort to retain her
7382composure. She succeeded. And during the progress of her captor’s horse
7383up the long slope she kept a good grip on herself, fortifying herself
7384against what might come when she and her captor reached the big house.
7385
7386When they reached the crest of the hill, Carrington ordered the two men
7387to take Martha around to the back of the house and confine her in one of
7388the rooms. One man was to guard her. The other was to wait on the front
7389porch until Carrington called him.
7390
7391The girl had decided to make one more struggle when Carrington
7392dismounted with her, but though she fought hard and bitterly, she did
7393not succeed in escaping Carrington, and the latter finally lifted her in
7394his arms and carried her into the front room, the room in which
7395Carrington had fought with Taylor the day Taylor had killed the three
7396men who had ambushed him.
7397
7398Carrington lighted a lamp—it was this light Parsons had seen from the
7399basin—placed it on a shelf, and in its light grinned triumphantly at
7400the girl.
7401
7402“Well, we are here,” he said.
7403
7404In his voice was that passion that had been in it that other time, when
7405he had pursued her into the house, and she had escaped him by hiding in
7406the attic. She cringed from him, backing away a little, and, noting the
7407movement, he laughed hoarsely.
7408
7409“Don’t worry,” he said, “at least for an hour or two. I’ve got something
7410more important on my mind. Do you know what it is?” he demanded,
7411grinning hugely. “It’s Taylor!” He suddenly seemed to remember that he
7412did not know why she had been abroad at dusk on the Dawes trail, and he
7413came close to her.
7414
7415“Did you see Keats today?”
7416
7417She did not answer, meeting his gaze fairly, her eyes flashing with
7418scorn and contempt. But he knew from the flame in her eyes that she had
7419seen Keats, and he laughed derisively.
7420
7421“So you saw him,” he jeered; “and you know that he came for Taylor. Did
7422he find Taylor at the Arrow?”
7423
7424Again she did not answer, and he went on, suspecting that Taylor had not
7425been at the Arrow, and that Keats had gone to search for him. “No, Keats
7426didn’t find him—that’s plain enough. I should have enjoyed being there
7427to hear Keats tell you that Taylor had killed your father. You heard
7428that, didn’t you? Yes,” he added, his grin broadening; “you heard that.
7429So that’s why you left the Arrow! Well, I don’t blame you for leaving.”
7430
7431He turned toward the door and wheeled again to face her. “You’ll enjoy
7432this,” he sneered; “you’ve been so thick with Taylor. Bah!” he added as
7433he saw her face redden at the insult; “I’ve known where you stood with
7434Taylor ever since I caught you flirting with him on the station platform
7435the day we came to Dawes. That’s why you went to the Arrow from
7436here—refusing my attentions to _give_ yourself to the man who killed
7437your father!”
7438
7439He laughed, and saw her writhe under the sound of it.
7440
7441“It hurts, eh?” he said venomously; “well, this will hurt, too. Keats
7442went out to get Taylor, but he will never bring Taylor in—alive. He has
7443orders to kill him—understand? That’s why I’ve got more important
7444business than you to attend to for the next few hours. I’m going to
7445Dawes to find out if Keats has returned. And when Keats comes in with
7446the news that Taylor is done for, I’m coming back here for you!”
7447
7448Calling the man who was waiting on the porch, Carrington directed him to
7449watch the girl; and then, with a last grin at her, he went out, mounted
7450his horse, and rode the trail toward Dawes. And as he rode, he laughed
7451maliciously, for he had not told her that the charge against Taylor was
7452a false one, and that, so far as he knew, Taylor was not guilty of
7453murdering her father.
7454
7455
7456
7457
7458CHAPTER XXXI—A RESCUE
7459
7460
7461An early moon stuck a pallid rim over the crest of the big, hill-like
7462plateau as Parsons sat on his horse in the basin, and Parsons watched it
7463rise in its silvery splendor and bathe the world with an effulgent glow.
7464It threw house and timber on the plateau crest in bold relief, a dark
7465silhouette looming against a flood of shimmering light, and Parsons
7466could see the porch he knew so well, and could even distinguish the
7467break in the timber that led to the house, which merged into the trail
7468that stretched to Dawes.
7469
7470Parsons was still laboring with the devils of indecision and doubt. He
7471knew why Carrington had captured Marion, and he yearned to take the girl
7472from the man—for her own sake, and for the purpose of satisfying his
7473vengeance. But he knew that certain death awaited him up there should he
7474venture to show himself to Carrington. And yet a certain desperate
7475courage stole into Parsons as he watched from the basin, and when, about
7476half an hour after he had seen the flicker of light filter out of one of
7477the windows of the house, he saw a man emerge, mount a horse, and ride
7478away, he drew a deep breath of resolution and urged his own horse up the
7479slope. For the man who had mounted the horse up there was
7480Carrington—there could be no doubt of that.
7481
7482Shivering, though still obeying the courageous impulse that had seized
7483him, Parsons continued to ascend the slope. He went half way and then
7484halted, listening. No sound disturbed the solemn stillness that had
7485followed Carrington’s departure.
7486
7487Reassured, though by this time he was sweating coldly, Parsons
7488accomplished the remainder of the intervening space upward. Far back in
7489the timber he brought his horse to a halt, dismounted, and again
7490listened. Hearing nothing that alarmed him, except a loud, angry voice
7491from the rear of the house—a voice which he knew as Martha’s—he
7492cautiously made his way to the front porch, tiptoed across it, and
7493peered stealthily into the room out of which the light still shone, its
7494flickering rays stabbing weakly into the outside darkness.
7495
7496Looking into the room, Parsons could see Marion sitting in a chair. Her
7497hands were bound, and she was leaning back in the chair, her hair
7498disheveled, her face chalk-white, and her eyes filled with a haunting,
7499terrible dread. Near the door, likewise seated on a chair, his back to
7500the big room that adjoined the one in which he sat, was a
7501villainous-looking man who was watching the girl with a leering grin.
7502
7503The sight brought a murderous passion into Parsons’ heart, nerving him
7504for the deed that instantly suggested itself to him. He crept off the
7505porch again, moving stealthily lest he make the slightest sound that
7506would warn the watcher at the door, and searched at a corner of the
7507porch until he found what he was looking for—a heavy club, a spoke from
7508one of the wheels of a wagon.
7509
7510Parsons knew about where to find it, for during the days that he had sat
7511on the porch nursing his resentment against Carrington, he had gazed
7512long at the wagon-spoke, wishing that he might have an opportunity to
7513use it on Carrington.
7514
7515He took it, balancing it, testing its weight. And now a hideous terror
7516seized him, almost paralyzing him. For though Parsons had robbed many
7517men, he had never resorted to violence; and for a time he stood with the
7518club in his hand, unable to move.
7519
7520He moved at last, though, his face transformed from the strength of the
7521passion that had returned, and he carefully stepped on the porch,
7522crossed it, and stood, leaning forward, peering into the room through
7523the outside door left open by Carrington. The outside door opened from
7524the big room adjoining that in which the watcher sat, and Parsons could
7525see the man, who, with his back toward the door, was still looking at
7526Marion.
7527
7528Entering the big room, Parsons saw Marion’s eyes widen as she looked
7529full at him. He shook his head at her; her face grew whiter, and she
7530began to talk to the other man.
7531
7532Only a second or two elapsed then until Parsons struck. The man rolled
7533out of his chair without a sound, and Parsons, leaping over him,
7534trembling, his breath coming in great gasps, ran to Marion and unbound
7535her hands.
7536
7537Together they flew outside, where they found the girl’s horse tethered
7538near a tree, and Parsons’ animal standing where he had left it.
7539
7540Mounting, the girl whispered to Parsons. She was trembling, and her
7541voice broke with a wailing quaver when she spoke:
7542
7543“Where shall we go, Elam—where? We—I can’t go back to the Arrow! Oh, I
7544just can’t! And Carrington will be back! Oh! isn’t there any _way_ to
7545escape him?”
7546
7547“We’ll go to Dawes, girl; that’s where we’ll go!” declared Parsons, his
7548dread and fear of the big man equaling that of the girl. “We’ll go to
7549Dawes and tell them there just what kind of a man Carrington is—and
7550what he has tried to do with you tonight! There must be some men in
7551Dawes who will not stand by and see a woman persecuted!”
7552
7553And as they rode the river trail toward the town, the girl, white and
7554silent, riding a little distance ahead of him, Parsons felt for the
7555first time in his life the tingling thrills that come of an unselfish
7556deed courageously performed. And the experience filled him with the
7557spirit to do other good and unselfish deeds.
7558
7559They rode fast for a time, until the girl again spoke of Carrington’s
7560announced intention to return shortly. Then they rode more cautiously,
7561and it was well they did. For they had almost reached Dawes when they
7562heard the whipping tread of a horse’s hoofs on the trail, coming toward
7563them. They rode well back from the trail, and, concealed by some heavy
7564brush, saw Carrington riding toward the big house. He went past them,
7565vanishing into the shadows of the trees that fringed the trail, and for
7566a long time the girl and Parsons did not move for fear Carrington might
7567have slowed his horse and would hear them. And when they did come out of
7568their concealment and were again on the Dawes trail, they rode fast,
7569with the dread of Carrington’s wrath to spur them on.
7570
7571 * * * * *
7572
7573It _had_ been Martha’s voice that Parsons had heard when he had been
7574standing in the timber near the front of the house. The negro woman was
7575walking back and forth in the room where her captor had confined her,
7576vigorously berating the man. She was a dusky thundercloud of wrath, who
7577rumbled verbal imprecations with every breath. Her captor—a small man
7578with a coarse voice, a broken nose, and a scraggy, drooping
7579mustache—stood in the doorway looking at her fiercely, with obvious
7580intent to intimidate the indignant Amazon.
7581
7582At the instant Parsons heard her voice she was confronting the man, her
7583eyes popping with fury.
7584
7585“You let me out of heah this minute, yo’ white trash! Yo’ heah! An’
7586doan’ you think I’s scared of you, ’cause I ain’t! If you doan’ hop away
7587from that do’, I’s goin’ to mash yo’ haid in wif this yere chair! You
7588git away now!”
7589
7590The man grinned. It was a forced grin, and his face whitened with it,
7591betraying to Martha the fear he felt of her—which she had suspected
7592from the moment he had brought her in and the light from the kitchen
7593lamp shone on his face.
7594
7595She took a threatening step toward him; a tentative movement, a testing
7596of his courage. And when she saw him retreat from her slightly, she
7597lunged at him, raising the chair she held in her hands.
7598
7599Possibly the man was reluctant to resort to violence; he may have had a
7600conviction that the detaining of Martha was not at all necessary to the
7601success of Carrington’s plan to subjugate the white girl, or he might
7602have been merely afraid of Martha. Whatever his thoughts, the man
7603continued to retreat from the negro woman, and as she pursued him, her
7604courage grew, and the man’s vanished in inverse ratio. And as he passed
7605the center of the kitchen, he wheeled and ran out of the door, Martha
7606following him.
7607
7608Outside, the man ran toward the stable. For an instant Martha stood
7609looking after him. Then, thinking Carrington was still in the house, and
7610that there was no hope of her frightening him as she had frightened the
7611little man who had stood guard over her, she ran to where her horse
7612stood, clambered into the saddle, and sent the animal down the big slope
7613toward Mullarky’s cabin, where she hoped to find Mullarky, to send him
7614to the big house to rescue the girl from Carrington.
7615
7616
7617
7618
7619CHAPTER XXXII—TAYLOR BECOMES RILED
7620
7621
7622By the time Bud Hemmingway had finished his grotesque expression of the
7623delight that had seized him, and had got to his knees and was grinning
7624widely at Taylor, the horses of the Arrow outfit were running down the
7625neck of the gorge, their hoofs drumming on the hard floor of the bottom,
7626awakening echoes that filled the gorge with an incessant rumbling
7627clatter that might have caused one to think a regiment of cavalry was
7628advancing at a gallop.
7629
7630Bud turned his gaze up the gorge and saw them.
7631
7632“Ain’t they great!” he yelled at Taylor. The leap in Bud’s voice
7633betrayed something of the strained tenseness with which the man had
7634endured his besiegement.
7635
7636And now that there was an even chance for him, Bud’s old humorous and
7637carefree impulses were again ascendant. He got to his feet, grinning,
7638the spirit of battle in his eyes, and threw a shot at a Keats man, far
7639up on a hillside, who had left his concealment and was running upward.
7640At the report of the rifle the man reeled, caught himself, and continued
7641to clamber upward, another bullet from Bud’s rifle throwing up a dust
7642spray at his feet.
7643
7644Other figures were now running; the slopes of the hills in the vicinity
7645were dotted with moving black spots as the Keats men, also hearing the
7646clattering of hoofs, and divining that their advantage was gone, made a
7647concerted break for their horses, which they had hidden in a ravine
7648beyond the hills.
7649
7650Taylor did not do any shooting. While Bud was standing erect among the
7651pile of rocks which had served as a shelter for him during the
7652afternoon, his rifle growing hot in his hands, and picturesque curses
7653issued from his lips, Taylor walked to Spotted Tail and tightened the
7654saddle cinches. This task did not take him long, but by the time it was
7655finished the Arrow outfit had dispersed the Keats men, who were fleeing
7656toward Dawes in scattered units.
7657
7658Bothwell, big and grim, rode to where Taylor was standing, his voice
7659booming as he looked sharply at Taylor.
7660
7661“I reckon we got here just in time, boss!” he said. “They didn’t git you
7662or Bud? No?” at Taylor’s grin. “Well, we’re wipin’ them out—that’s all!
7663That Keats bunch can’t run in no raw deal like that on the Arrow—not
7664while I’m range boss. Law? Bah! Every damned man that runs with Keats
7665would have stretched hemp before this if they’d have been any law in the
7666country! A clean-up, eh—that’s what they tryin’ to pull off. Well,
7667watch my smoke!”
7668
7669His voice leaping with passion, Bothwell slapped his horse sharply, and
7670as the animal leaped down the trail toward Dawes, Bothwell shouted to
7671the other men of the outfit, who had halted at a little distance back in
7672the gorge:
7673
7674“Come a runnin’, you yaps! That ornery bunch can’t git out of this
7675section without hittin’ the basin trail!”
7676
7677Bothwell and the others fled down the gorge like a devastating whirlwind
7678before Taylor could offer a word of objection.
7679
7680As a matter of fact, Taylor had paid little attention to Bothwell’s
7681threats. He knew that the big range boss was in a bitter rage, and he
7682had been aware of the ill-feeling that had existed for some time between
7683Keats and his friends and the men of the Arrow outfit.
7684
7685But the deserved punishment of Keats was not the burden his mind carried
7686at this instant. Dominating every other thought in Taylor’s brain was
7687the obvious, naked fact that Carrington had struck at him again; that he
7688had struck underhandedly, as usual; and that he would continue to fight
7689with that method until he was victorious or beaten.
7690
7691And yet Taylor was not so much concerned over the blow that had been
7692aimed at him as he was of its probable effect upon Marion Harlan. For of
7693course the girl had heard of the charge by this time—or she would hear
7694of it. It would be all the same in the end. And at a blow the girl’s
7695faith in him would be destroyed—the faith that he had been nurturing,
7696and upon which he had built his hopes.
7697
7698To be sure he had Larry Harlan’s note to show her, to convince her of
7699his innocence, but he knew that once the poison of suspicion and doubt
7700got into her heart, she could never give him that complete confidence of
7701which he had dreamed. She might, now that Carrington had spread his
7702poison, conclude that he had forged the note, trusting in it to disarm
7703the suspicions of herself and of the world. And if she were to demand
7704why he had not shown her the note before—when she had first come to the
7705Arrow—he could not tell her that he had determined never to show it to
7706her, lest she understand that he knew her mother’s sordid history. That
7707secret, he had promised himself, she would never know; nor would she
7708ever know of the vicious significance of that conversation he had
7709overheard between Carrington and Parsons on the train coming to Dawes.
7710He was convinced that if she knew these things she would never be able
7711to look him in the eyes again.
7712
7713Therefore, knowing the damage Carrington had wrought by bringing the
7714charge of murder against him, Taylor’s rage was now definitely centered
7715upon his enemy. The pursuit and punishment of Keats was a matter of
7716secondary consideration in his mind—Bothwell and the men of the outfit
7717would take care of the man. But Taylor could no longer fight off the
7718terrible rage that had seized him over the knowledge of Carrington’s
7719foul methods, and when he mounted Spotted Tail and urged him down the
7720trail toward the Arrow ranchhouse, there was a set to his lips that
7721caused Norton, who had brought his horse to a halt near him, to look
7722sharply at him and draw a quick breath.
7723
7724Not speaking to Norton, nor to Bud—who had also remained to watch
7725him—Taylor straightened Spotted Tail to the trail and sent him flying
7726toward the Arrow. Taylor looked neither to the right nor left, nor did
7727he speak to Norton and Bud, who rode hard after him. Down the trail at a
7728point where the neck of the gorge broadened and merged into the grass
7729level that stretched, ever widening, to the Arrow, Spotted Tail and his
7730rider flashed past a big cluster of low hills from which came
7731flame-streaks and the sharp, cracking reports of rifles, the yells of
7732men in pain, and the hoarse curses of men in the grip of the fighting
7733rage.
7734
7735But Taylor might not have heard the sounds. Certainly he could not have
7736seen the flame-streaks, unless he glimpsed them out of the corners of
7737his eyes, for he did not turn his head as he urged Spotted Tail on,
7738speeding him over the great green sweep of grass at a pace that the big
7739horse had never yet been ridden.
7740
7741Laboring behind him, for they knew that something momentous impended,
7742Norton and Bud tried their best to keep up with the flying beast ahead
7743of them. But the sorrel ridden by Norton, and even the great, rangy,
7744lionhearted King, could not hold the pace that Spotted Tail set for
7745them, and they fell slowly back until, when still several miles from the
7746Arrow, horse and rider vanished into the dusk ahead of them.
7747
7748
7749
7750
7751CHAPTER XXXIII—RETRIBUTION
7752
7753
7754Twice descending the long slope leading to the basin, Martha’s horse
7755stumbled. The first time the negro woman lifted him to his feet by
7756jerking sharply on the reins, but when he stumbled the second time,
7757Martha was not alert and the horse went to his knees. Unprepared, Martha
7758was jolted out of the saddle and she fell awkwardly, landing on her
7759right shoulder with a force that knocked the breath out of her.
7760
7761She lay for a short time, gasping, her body racked with pain, and at
7762last, when she succeeded in getting to her feet, the horse had strayed
7763some little distance from her and was quietly browsing the tops of some
7764saccaton.
7765
7766It was several minutes before Martha caught the animal—several minutes
7767during which she loosed some picturesque and original profanity that
7768caused the experienced range horse to raise his ears inquiringly.
7769
7770Then, when she caught the horse, she had some trouble getting into the
7771saddle, though she succeeded after a while, groaning, and grunting, and
7772whimpering.
7773
7774But Martha forgot her pains and misery once she was in the saddle again,
7775and she rode fast, trembling with eagerness, her sympathies and her
7776concern solely for the white girl who, she supposed, was a prisoner in
7777the hands of the ruthless and unprincipled man that Martha, with her
7778limited vocabulary, had termed many times a “rapscallion.”
7779
7780Martha headed her horse straight for the Mullarky cabin, guided by a
7781faint shaft of light that issued from one of its windows.
7782
7783When she reached the cabin she found no one there but Mrs. Mullarky.
7784Ben, Mrs. Mullarky told Martha, had gone to Dawes—in fact, he had been
7785in Dawes all day, she supposed, for he had left home early that morning.
7786
7787Martha gasped out her news, and Mrs. Mullarky’s face whitened. While
7788Martha watched her in astonishment, she tore off the gingham apron that
7789adorned her, threw it into a corner, and ran into another room, from
7790which she emerged an instant later carrying a rifle.
7791
7792The Irishwoman’s face was pale and set, and the light of a great wrath
7793gleamed in her eyes. Martha, awed by the woman’s belligerent appearance,
7794could only stand and blink at her, her mouth gaping with astonishment.
7795
7796“You go right on to the Arrow!” she commanded Martha, as she went out of
7797the door; “mebbe you’ll find somebody there by this time, an’ if you do,
7798send them to the big house. I’m goin’ over there right this minute to
7799take that dear little girl away from that big brute!”
7800
7801She started while Martha was again painfully mounting her horse, and the
7802two women rode away in opposite directions—Martha whimpering with pain,
7803and Mrs. Mullarky silent, grim, with a wild rage gripping her heart.
7804
7805 * * * * *
7806
7807Taylor, on Spotted Tail, was approaching the Arrow ranchhouse at a speed
7808slightly greater than that into which the big horse had fallen shortly
7809after he had left the gorge. The spirited animal was just warming to his
7810work, and he was doing his best when he flashed past the big cattle
7811corral, going with the noise of rushing wind. In an instant he was at
7812the long stretch of fence which formed the ranchyard side of the horse
7813corral, and in another instant he was sliding to a halt near the edge of
7814the front porch of the ranchhouse itself. There he drew a deep breath
7815and looked inquiringly at his master, while the latter slid off his
7816back, leaped upon the porch, and with a bound crossed the porch floor,
7817knocking chairs helter-skelter as he went.
7818
7819The house was dark, but Taylor ran through the rooms, calling sharply
7820for Parsons and Marion, but receiving no reply. When he emerged from the
7821house his face, in the light of the moon that had climbed above the
7822horizon some time before, was like that of a man who has just looked
7823upon the dead face of his best friend.
7824
7825For Taylor was convinced that he had looked upon death in the
7826ranchhouse—upon the death of his hopes. He stood for an instant on the
7827porch, while his passions raged through him, and then with a laugh of
7828bitter humor he leaped on Spotted Tail.
7829
7830Half-way to the Mullarky cabin, with the big horse running like the
7831wind, Taylor saw a shape looming out of the darkness ahead of him. He
7832pulled Spotted Tail down, and loosed one of his pistols, and approached
7833the shape warily, his muscles stiff and taut and ready for action.
7834
7835But it was only Martha who rode up to him. Her fortitude gone, her pains
7836convulsing her, she wailed to Taylor the story of the night’s tragic
7837adventure.
7838
7839“An’ Carrington’s got missy in the big house!” she concluded. “She fit
7840him powerful hard, but it was no use—that rapscallion too much fo’
7841her!”
7842
7843She shouted the last words at Taylor, for Spotted Tail had received a
7844jab in the sides with the rowels that hurt him cruelly, and, angered, he
7845ran like a deer with the hungry cry of a wolf-pack in his ears.
7846
7847Like a black streak they rushed by Mrs. Mullarky, who breathed a
7848fervent, “Oh, thank the Lord, it’s Taylor!” and before the good woman
7849could catch her breath again, Spotted Tail and his rider had opened a
7850huge, yawning space between himself and the laboring horse the woman
7851rode.
7852
7853Riding with all his muscles taut as bowstrings, and a terrible,
7854constricting pressure across his chest—so mighty were the savage
7855passions that rioted within him—Taylor reached the foot of the long
7856slope that led to the big house, and sent Spotted Tail tearing upward
7857with rapid, desperate leaps.
7858
7859 * * * * *
7860
7861When Carrington reached the big house soon after he had unknowingly
7862passed Marion Harlan and Parsons on the river trail, he was in a sullen,
7863impatient mood.
7864
7865For no word concerning Keats’s movements had reached Dawes, and
7866Carrington was afflicted with a gloomy presentiment that something had
7867happened to the man—that he had not been able to locate Taylor, or that
7868he had found him and Taylor had succeeded in escaping him.
7869
7870Carrington did not go at once into the house, for captive though she
7871was, and completely within his power, he did not want the girl to see
7872him in his present mood. Lighting a cigar, and chewing it viciously, he
7873walked to the stable. There, standing in the shadow of the building, he
7874came upon the guard Martha had routed. He spoke sharply to the man,
7875asking him why he was not inside guarding the “nigger.”
7876
7877The man brazenly announced that Martha had escaped him, omitting certain
7878details and substituting others from his imagination.
7879
7880“If she hadn’t been a woman, now,” added the man in self-extenuation.
7881
7882Carrington laughed lowly. “We didn’t need _her_, anyway,” he said, and
7883the other laughed with him.
7884
7885The laugh restored Carrington’s good-nature, and he left the man and
7886went into the front room of the house. Had he paused on the porch to
7887listen, or had he glanced toward the big slope that dropped to the
7888basin, he would not have entered the house just then. And he _would_
7889have paused on the porch had it not been that the intensity of his
7890desires drove him to concentrate all his senses upon Marion.
7891
7892He crossed the porch and entered the room, and then halted, staring
7893downward with startled eyes at the body of the guard huddled on the
7894floor, a thin stream of blood staining the carpet beneath his head.
7895
7896Cursing, Carrington stepped into the other room—the room in which he
7897had fought with Taylor—the room in which he had left Marion Harlan
7898bound and sitting on a chair. The lamp on the shelf was still burning,
7899and in its light Carrington saw the rope he had used to bind the girl’s
7900hands.
7901
7902A bitter rage seized him as he looked at the rope, and he threw it from
7903him, cursing. In an instant he was outside the house and had leaped upon
7904his horse. He headed the animal toward the long slope leading to the
7905Arrow trail, for he suspected the girl would go straight back there,
7906despite any conviction she might have of Taylor’s guilt—for there she
7907would find Parsons, who would give her what comfort he could. Or she
7908might stop at the Mullarky cabin. Certainly she would not go to Dawes,
7909for she must know that _he_ ruled Dawes—Parsons must have told her
7910that—and that if she went to Dawes, she would be merely postponing her
7911surrender to him.
7912
7913He had plenty of time, even if she were in Dawes, he meditated as he
7914sent his horse over the crest of the slope, for there were no trains out
7915of the town during the night, and if she were not at the Arrow or
7916Mullarky’s, he was sure to catch her later.
7917
7918He was half-way down the slope, his horse making slow work of threading
7919its way through the gnarled chaparral growth, when, looking downward, he
7920saw another horse leaping up the slope toward him.
7921
7922In the glare of the moon that was behind Carrington, he could see horse
7923and rider distinctly, and he jerked his own horse to a halt, cursing
7924horribly. For the horse that was leaping toward him like a black demon
7925out of the night was Spotted Tail. And Spotted Tail’s rider was Taylor.
7926Carrington could see the man’s face, with the terrible passion that
7927distorted it, and Carrington wheeled his horse, making frenzied efforts
7928to escape up the slope.
7929
7930Carrington was not more than a hundred feet from the big black horse and
7931its indomitable rider when he wheeled his own animal, and he had not
7932traveled more than a few feet when he realized that Spotted Tail was
7933gaining rapidly.
7934
7935Cursing again, though his face was ghastly with the fear that had seized
7936him, Carrington slipped from his horse, and, running around so that the
7937animal was between him and Taylor, he drew a heavy pistol from a
7938hip-pocket. And when the oncoming horse and rider were within
7939twenty-five or thirty feet of him, Carrington took deliberate aim and
7940fired.
7941
7942He grinned vindictively as he saw Taylor reel in the saddle, and he
7943fired again, and saw Taylor drop to the ground beside Spotted Tail.
7944
7945Carrington could not tell whether his second shot had struck Taylor, and
7946before he could shoot again, Taylor dove headlong toward a jagged rock
7947that thrust a bulging shoulder upward. Carrington threw a snapshot at
7948him as he leaped, but again he could not have told whether the bullet
7949had gone home.
7950
7951Keeping the horse between himself and the rock behind which Taylor had
7952thrown himself, Carrington leaped behind another that stood near the
7953edge of the chaparral clump through which he had been riding when he had
7954seen Taylor coming up the slope. Seeming to sense their danger, both
7955horses slowly moved off out of the line of fire and proceeded
7956unconcernedly to browse the clumps of grass that dotted the side of the
7957slope.
7958
7959And now began a long, strained silence. Carrington could see Taylor’s
7960rock, but it was at the edge of the chaparral, and Taylor might easily
7961slip into the chaparral and begin a circling movement that would bring
7962him behind Carrington. The thought brought a damp sweat out upon
7963Carrington’s forehead, and he began to cast fearing glances toward the
7964chaparral at his side. He watched it long, and the longer he watched,
7965the greater grew his fear. And at last, at the end of half an hour, the
7966fear grew to a conviction that Taylor was stalking him in the chaparral.
7967No longer able to endure the suspense, Carrington left the shelter of
7968his rock and began to work his way around the edge of the chaparral
7969clump.
7970
7971Taylor had felt the heat and the shock of Carrington’s first bullet, and
7972he knew it had gone into his left arm. The second bullet had missed him
7973cleanly, and he landed behind the rock, with all his senses alert,
7974paying no attention to his wound.
7975
7976He had recognized Carrington, and with the cold calm that comes with
7977implacable determination, Taylor instantly began to take an inventory of
7978the hazards and the advantages of his position. And after his
7979examination was concluded, he dropped to his hands and knees and began
7980to work his way into the chaparral.
7981
7982He moved cautiously, for he knew that should he disturb the rank growth
7983he would disclose his whereabouts to Carrington, should the latter have
7984gained a vantageous point from where he could watch the thicket for just
7985such signs of Taylor’s presence.
7986
7987But Taylor made no such signs; he had not spent the greater part of his
7988life in the open to be outdone in this grim strategy by an eastern man.
7989He grinned wickedly at the thought.
7990
7991He suspected that Carrington might try the very trick he himself was
7992trying, and that thought made him wary.
7993
7994Working his way into the thicket, he at last reached a point near its
7995center, upon a slight mound surrounded by stunt oak and quivering aspen.
7996There, concealed and alert, he waited for Carrington to show himself.
7997
7998Carrington, though, did not betray his presence in the thicket. For
7999Carrington was not in the thicket when Taylor reached its center.
8000Carrington had started into the thicket, but he had not proceeded very
8001far when he began to be afflicted with a dread premonition of Taylor’s
8002presence somewhere in the vicinity.
8003
8004A clammy sweat broke out on the big man; a panic of fear seized him, and
8005he began to creep backward, out of the thicket. And by the time Taylor
8006reached his vantagepoint, Carrington was crouching at the thicket’s
8007edge, near the rock where he had been concealed, oppressed with a
8008conviction that Taylor was working his way toward him through the
8009thicket.
8010
8011The big man waited, his nerves taut, his muscles quivering and cringing
8012at the thought that any instant a bullet sent at him by Taylor might
8013strike him. For he knew that Taylor had come for him; he was now
8014convinced that Marion Harlan _had_ gone to the Arrow, that she had told
8015Taylor what had happened to her, and that Taylor had come straight to
8016the big house to punish him for his misdeeds.
8017
8018And Carrington had a dread of the sort of punishment Taylor had dealt
8019him upon a former occasion, and he wanted no more of it. That was why he
8020had used his pistol instantly upon recognizing Taylor. He wished, now,
8021that he had not been so hasty; for he had taken the initiative, and
8022Taylor would not scruple to imitate him.
8023
8024In fact, he was so certain that at that moment Taylor was creeping upon
8025him from some point with the fury of murder in his heart, that he got to
8026his feet and, looking over the top of the rock, searched with wild eyes
8027for his horse. And when he saw the animal not more than twenty or thirty
8028feet from him, he could not longer resist the panic that had seized him.
8029Crouching, he ran for several yards on his hands and feet and then,
8030nearing his horse, he stood upright and ran for it.
8031
8032As he ran he cringed, for he expected a pistol-shot to greet his
8033appearance at the side of his horse. But no report came, and he reached
8034the horse, threw himself into the saddle and raced the animal down the
8035slope.
8036
8037He was conscious of a pulse of elation, for he thought he had eluded
8038Taylor, but just as his horse struck the edge of the big level
8039Carrington looked back, to see Spotted Tail slipping down the slope with
8040a smooth swiftness that terrified the big man.
8041
8042He turned then and began to ride as he had never ridden before. The
8043animal under him was strong, courageous, and speedy; but Carrington knew
8044he would have need of all those sterling qualities if he hoped to escape
8045the iron-hearted horse Taylor bestrode. And so Carrington leaned
8046forward, trying to lighten the load, slapping the beast’s neck with the
8047palm of his hand, urging him with his voice—coaxing him to the best
8048endeavors. For Carrington knew that somewhere in the vast expanse of
8049grass land and spread before him Keats and his men must be. And his only
8050hope lay in reaching them before the avenger, astride the big horse that
8051was speeding on his trail like a black thunderbolt, could bring his
8052rider within pistol-shot distance of him.
8053
8054But Carrington had not gone more than half a mile when he realized that
8055the race was to be a short one. Twice after leaving the edge of the
8056slope Carrington looked back. The first time Spotted Tail seemed to be
8057far away; and the next time the big, black animal was so close that
8058Carrington cried out hoarsely.
8059
8060And then as Carrington felt the distance being shortened—as he felt the
8061presence of the black horse almost at the withers of his own
8062animal—heard the breathing of the big pursuing beast, he knew that he
8063was not to be shot.
8064
8065Before he could swing his own horse to escape, the big, black horse was
8066beside his own, and one of Taylor’s arms shot out, the fingers gripping
8067the collar of the big man’s coat. Then with a vicious pull, swinging the
8068black horse wide, Taylor jerked Carrington out of the saddle, so that he
8069fell sidewise into the deep grass—while the black horse, eager for a
8070run, and not immediately responding to Taylor’s pull on the reins, ran
8071some feet before he halted and wheeled.
8072
8073And when he did finally face toward the spot where the big man had been
8074jerked from the saddle, it was to face a succession of flame-streaks
8075that shot from the spot where Carrington stood trying his best to send
8076into Taylor a bullet that would put an end to the horrible presentiment
8077of death that now filled the big man’s heart.
8078
8079He emptied his pistol and saw the black horse coming steadily toward
8080him, its rider erect in the saddle, seeming not to heed the savagely
8081barking weapon. And when the gun was empty, Carrington threw it from him
8082and began to run. He ran, and with grim mockery, Taylor followed him a
8083little distance—followed him until Carrington, exhausted, his breath
8084coming in great coughing gasps, could run no farther. And then Taylor
8085brought the big black to a halt near him, slid easily out of the saddle,
8086and stepped forward to look into Carrington’s face, his own stiff and
8087set, his eyes gleaming with a passion that made the other man groan
8088hopelessly.
8089
8090“Now, you miserable whelp!” said Taylor.
8091
8092He lunged forward and the bodies of the two men made a swaying blot out
8093of which came the sounds of blows, bitter and savage.
8094
8095 * * * * *
8096
8097The little broken-nosed man laughed a little in recollection of
8098Carrington’s words about Martha. The big man had let him off easily, and
8099he was properly grateful. And yet his gratitude did not prevent him from
8100betraying curiosity; and he watched the front of the house for
8101Carrington’s reappearance, wondering what he meant to do with the white
8102girl, now that he had her.
8103
8104Still watching the front porch, he saw Carrington run for his horse,
8105leap upon it and sink down the side of the slope.
8106
8107The little man then ran to the front of the house and, concealed among
8108the trees, watched the duel that was waged in the moonlight. He saw
8109Carrington break from the thicket, mount his horse and race out into the
8110plain; he saw Taylor—for he had recognized him—send Spotted Tail after
8111Carrington. But he did not see the finish of the race, nor did he see
8112what followed. But some minutes later he saw a big, black horse tearing
8113toward him from the spot where the race had ended. He muttered
8114gutturally and profanely, leaped on his horse and sent it plunging down
8115the trail toward Dawes, his face ghastly with fear.
8116
8117
8118
8119
8120CHAPTER XXXIV—THE WILL OF THE MOB
8121
8122
8123Parsons had always been an unemotional man. His own character being
8124immune to the little twinging impulses of humanness that grow to
8125generous and unselfish deeds, he had looked with derision upon all
8126persons who betrayed concern for their fellow-men. And so Parsons had
8127lived apart from his fellows; he had watched them from across the gulf
8128of disinterest, where emotion was foreign.
8129
8130But tonight Parsons was learning what emotion is. Not from others, but
8131from himself. Emotions—thousands of them seethed in his brain and
8132heart. He was in an advanced state of hysteria when he rode down the
8133Dawes trail with Marion Harlan. For there was the huge, implacable,
8134ruthless, and murderous Carrington, whom he had just passed on the
8135trail, to menace his very life—and he knew that just as soon as
8136Carrington returned to the big house and found Marion gone and the guard
8137dead, he would ride back to Dawes, seeking vengeance. And Carrington
8138would know it was Parsons who had robbed him of the girl; for Carrington
8139would inquire, and would discover that he had ridden into town with
8140Marion. And when Parsons and Marion rode into Dawes fear, stark, abject,
8141and naked, was in the man’s soul.
8142
8143Dawes was aflame with light as the two passed down the street; and
8144Parsons left the girl to sit on her horse in front of a darkened store,
8145while he rode down the street, peering into other stores, alight and
8146inviting. He hardly knew what he did want. He knew, however, that there
8147was little time, for at any minute now Carrington might come thundering
8148into town on his errand of vengeance; and whatever Parsons did must be
8149done quickly.
8150
8151He chose the second store he came to. He thought the place was a
8152billiard-room until he entered and stood just inside the door blinking
8153at the lights; and then he knew it was a saloon, for he saw the bar, the
8154back-bar behind it, littered with bottles, and many tables scattered
8155around. More, there were perhaps a hundred men in the place—some of
8156them drinking; and at the sight of them all, realizing the mightiness of
8157their number, Parsons raised his hands aloft and screamed frenziedly:
8158
8159“Men! There’s been a crime committed tonight! At the Huggins house!
8160Carrington did it! He abducted my niece! I want you men to help me!
8161Carrington is going to kill me! And I want you to protect my niece!”
8162
8163For an instant after Parsons’ voice died in a breathless gasp, for he
8164blurted his story, the words coming in a stream, with hardly a pause
8165between them; there was an odd, strained silence. Then a man far back in
8166the room guffawed loudly:
8167
8168“Plumb loco. Too much forty-rod!”
8169
8170There was a half-hearted gale of laughter at the man’s taunt; and then
8171many men were around Parsons, ready to laugh and jeer. And while some of
8172the men peered at Parsons, cynically inspecting him for signs of
8173drunkenness, several others ran to the open door and looked out into the
8174street.
8175
8176“There’s somethin’ in his yappin’, boys,” stated a man who returned from
8177the door; “there’s a gal out here, sure enough, setting on a hoss,
8178waitin’.”
8179
8180There was a concerted rush outside to see the girl, and Parsons was
8181shoved and jostled until he, too, was forced to go out. And by the time
8182Parsons reached Marion’s side she had been questioned by the men. And
8183wrathful curses arose from the lips of men around her.
8184
8185“Didn’t I know he was that kind of a skunk!” shouted a man near Parsons.
8186“I knowed it as soon as he beat Taylor out of the election!”
8187
8188“I’m for stringin’ the scum up!” yelled another man. “This town can git
8189along without guys that go around abductin’ wimmen!”
8190
8191There were still other lurid and threatening comments. And many profane
8192epithets rose, burdened with menace, for Carrington. But the girl,
8193humiliated, weak, and trembling, did not hear all of them. She saw other
8194men emerging from doorways—all of them running toward her to join those
8195who had come out of the saloon. And then she saw a woman coming toward
8196her, the men making a pathway for her—a motherly looking woman who,
8197when she came near the girl, smiled up at her sympathetically and
8198reached up her hands to help the girl out of the saddle.
8199
8200Marion slipped down, and the woman’s arms went around her. And with many
8201grimly pitying glances from the men in the crowd about her, which parted
8202to permit her to pass, she was led into a private dwelling at a little
8203distance down the street, into a cozy room where there were signs of
8204decency and refinement. The woman placed the girl in a chair, and stood
8205beside her, smoothing her hair and talking to her in low, comforting
8206tones; while outside a clamor rose and a confused mutter of many voices
8207out of which she began to catch sentences, such as:
8208
8209“Let’s fan it to the big house an’ git him!”
8210
8211“There’s too many crooks in this town—let’s run ’em out!”
8212
8213“What in hell did he come here for?”
8214
8215“Judge Littlefield is just as bad—he cheated Taylor out of the
8216election!” “That’s right,” answered another voice. “Taylor’s our man!”
8217
8218“They are all wrought up over this, my dear,” said the woman. “For a
8219long time there has been an undercurrent of dissatisfaction over the way
8220they cheated Quinton Taylor out of the mayoralty. I don’t think it was a
8221bit fair. And,” she continued, “there are other things. They have found
8222out that Carrington is behind a scheme to steal the water rights from
8223the town—something he did to the board of directors of the irrigation
8224company, I believe. And he has had his councilmen pass laws to widen
8225some streets and open new ones. And the well-informed call it a steal,
8226too. Mr. Norton has stirred up a lot of sentiment against Carrington and
8227Danforth, and all the rest of them. Secretly, that is. And there is that
8228murder charge against Quinton Taylor,” went on the woman. “That is
8229preposterous! Taylor was the best friend Larry Harlan ever had!”
8230
8231But the girl turned her head, and her lips quivered, for the mention of
8232Taylor had brought back to her the poignant sense of loss that she had
8233felt when she had learned of the charge against Taylor. She bowed her
8234head and wept silently, the woman trying again to comfort her, while
8235outside the noise and tumult grew in volume—threatening violence.
8236
8237By the time Marion Harlan had dropped into the chair in the room of the
8238house into which the woman had taken her, the crowd that had collected
8239in the street was packed and jammed against the buildings on each side
8240of it.
8241
8242Those who had come late demanded to be told what had happened; and some
8243men lifted Parsons to the back of his horse, and with their hands on his
8244legs, bracing him, Parsons repeated the story of what had occurred.
8245More—yielding to the frenzy that had now taken possession of his
8246senses, he told of Carrington’s plotting against the town; of the man’s
8247determination to loot and steal everything he could get his hands on. He
8248told them of his own culpability; he assured them he had been as guilty
8249as Carrington and Danforth—who was a mere tool, though as unscrupulous
8250as Carrington. He gave them an account of Carrington’s stewardship of
8251his own money; and he related the story of Carrington’s friendship with
8252the governor, connecting Carrington’s trip to the capital with the
8253stealing of the election from Taylor.
8254
8255It is the psychology of the mob that it responds in some measure to the
8256frenzy of the man who agitates it. So it was with the great crowd that
8257now swarmed the wide street of Dawes. Partisan feeling—all differences
8258of opinion that in other times would have barred concerted action—was
8259swept away by the fervent appeal Parsons made, and by his complete and
8260scathing revelation of the iniquitous scheme to rob the town.
8261
8262A great sigh arose as Parsons finished and was drawn down, his hat off,
8263his hair ruffled, his eyes gleaming with the strength of the terrible
8264frenzy he was laboring under. The crowd muttered; voices rose sharply;
8265there was an impatient movement; a concerted stiffening of bodies and a
8266long pause, as of preparation.
8267
8268Aroused, seething with passion, with a vindictive desire for action,
8269swift and ruthless, the crowd waited—waited for a leader. And while the
8270pause and the mutterings continued, the leader came.
8271
8272It was the big, grim-faced Bothwell, at the head of the Arrow outfit.
8273With his horse in a dead run, the other horses of the outfit crowding
8274him close, Bothwell brought his horse to a sliding halt at the edge of
8275the crowd.
8276
8277Bothwell’s eyes were ablaze with the light of battle; and he stood in
8278his stirrups, looming high above the heads of the men around him, and
8279shouted:
8280
8281“Where’s my boss—Squint Taylor?” And before anyone could
8282answer—“Where’s that damned coyote Carrington? Where’s Danforth? What’s
8283wrong here?”
8284
8285It was Parsons who answered him. Parsons, again clambering into the
8286saddle from which he had spoken, now shrieking shrilly:
8287
8288“It’s Carrington’s work! He abducted Marion Harlan, my niece. He’s a
8289scoundrel and a thief, and he is trying to ruin this town!”
8290
8291There was a short silence as Parsons slid again to the ground, and then
8292the man growled profanely:
8293
8294“Let’s run the whole bunch out of town! Start somethin’, Bothwell!”
8295
8296Bothwell laughed, a booming bellow of grim mirth that stirred the crowd
8297to movement. “We’ve been startin’ somethin’! This outfit is out for a
8298clean-up! There’s been too much sneakin’ an’ murderin’; an’ too many
8299fake warrants flyin’ around, with a bunch like them Keats guys sent out
8300to kill innocent men. Damn their hides! Let’s get ’em—all of ’em!”
8301
8302He flung his horse around and leaped it between the other horses of the
8303Arrow outfit, sending it straight to the doors of the city hall. Closing
8304in behind him, the other members of the Arrow outfit followed; and
8305behind them the crowd, now able to center its passion upon something
8306definite, rushed forward—a yelling, muttering, turbulent mass of men
8307intent to destroy the things which the common conscience loathes.
8308
8309It seemed a lashing sea of retribution to Danforth and Judge
8310Littlefield, who were in the mayor’s office, a little group of their
8311political adherents around them. At the first sign of a disturbance,
8312Danforth had attempted to gather his official forces with the intention
8313of preserving order. But only these few had responded, and they,
8314white-faced, feeling their utter impotence, were standing in the room,
8315terror-stricken, when Bothwell and the men of the Arrow outfit, with the
8316crowd yelling behind them, entered the door of the office.
8317
8318 * * * * *
8319
8320The little, broken-nosed man had done well to leave the vicinity of the
8321big house before Taylor arrived there. For when Taylor emerged from the
8322front room, in which the light still burned, his soul was still in the
8323grip of a lust to slay.
8324
8325He was breathing fast when he emerged from the house, for what he saw
8326there had puzzled him—the guard lying on the floor and Marion gone—and
8327he stood for an instant on the porch, scanning the clearing and the
8328woods around the house with blazing eyes, his guns in hand.
8329
8330The silence around the house was deep and solemn now, and over Taylor
8331stole a conviction that Carrington had sent Marion to Dawes in charge of
8332some of his men; having divined that he would come for her. But Taylor
8333did not act upon the conviction instantly. He ran to the stable, stormed
8334through it—and the other buildings in the cluster around the
8335ranchhouse; and finding no trace of men or girl, he at last leaped on
8336Spotted Tail and sent him thundering over the trail toward Dawes.
8337
8338When he arrived in town a swaying, shouting, shooting mob jammed the
8339streets. He brought his horse to a halt on the edge of the crowd that
8340packed the street in front of the city hall, and demanded to know what
8341was wrong.
8342
8343The man shouted at him:
8344
8345“Hell’s to pay! Carrington abducted Marion Harlan, an’ that little
8346guy—Parsons—rescued her. An’ Parsons made a speech, tellin’ folks what
8347Carrington an’ Danforth an’ all the rest of the sneakin’ coyotes have
8348done, an’ we’re runnin’ the scum out of town!” And then, before Taylor
8349could ask about the girl, the man raised his voice to a shrill yell:
8350
8351“It’s Squint Taylor, boys! Squint Taylor! Stand back an’ let ol’ Squint
8352take a hand in this here deal!”
8353
8354There was a wild, concerted screech of joy. It rose like the shrieking
8355of a gale; it broke against the buildings that fringed the street; it
8356echoed and reechoed with terrific resonance back and forth over the
8357heads of the men in the crowd. It penetrated into the cozy room of a
8358private dwelling, where sat a girl who started at the sound and sat
8359erect, her face paling, her eyes, glowing with a light that made the
8360motherly looking woman say to her, softly:
8361
8362“Ah, then you _do_ believe in him, my dear!”
8363
8364 * * * * *
8365
8366It was when the noise and the tumult had subsided that Taylor went to
8367her. For he had been told where he might find her by men who smiled
8368sympathetically at his back as he walked down the street toward the
8369private dwelling.
8370
8371She was at the door as soon as he, for she had been watching from one of
8372the front windows, and had seen him come toward the house.
8373
8374And when the motherly looking woman saw them in each other’s arms, the
8375moon and the light from within the house revealing them to her, and to
8376the men in the crowd who watched from the street, she smiled gently.
8377What the two said to each other will never be known, for their words
8378were drowned in the cheer that rose from hoarse-voiced men who knew that
8379words are sometimes futile and unnecessary.
8380
8381
8382
8383
8384CHAPTER XXXV—TRIUMPH AT LAST
8385
8386
8387A month later, Taylor walked to the front door of the Arrow ranchhouse
8388and stood on the threshold looking out over the great sweep of
8389green-brown plain that reached eastward to Dawes.
8390
8391A change had come over Taylor. His eyes had a gentler light in them—as
8392though they had seen things that had taken the edge off his sterner
8393side; and there was an atmosphere about him that created the impression
8394that his thoughts were at this moment far from violence.
8395
8396“Mr. Taylor!” said a voice behind him—from the front room. There had
8397been an undoubted accent on the “Mr.” And the voice was one that Taylor
8398knew well; the sound of it deepened the gentle gleam in his eyes.
8399
8400“Mrs. Taylor,” he answered, imparting to the “Mrs.” exactly the emphasis
8401the voice had placed on the other.
8402
8403There was a laugh behind him, and then the voice again, slightly
8404reproachful: “Oh, that sounds so _awfully_ formal, Squint!”
8405
8406“Well,” he said, “you started it.”
8407
8408“I like ‘Squint’ better,” said the voice.
8409
8410“I’m hoping you keep on liking Squint all the days of your life,” he
8411returned.
8412
8413“I was speaking of names,” declared the voice.
8414
8415“Doan’ yo’ let her fool yo’, Mr. Squint!” came another voice, “fo’ she
8416think a heap mo’ of you than she think of yo’ name!”
8417
8418“Martha!” said the first voice in laughing reproof, “I vow I shall send
8419you away some day!”
8420
8421And then there was a clumping step on the floor, and Martha’s voice
8422reached the door as she went out of the house through the kitchen:
8423
8424“I’s goin’ to the bunkhouse to expostulate wif that lazy Bud Hemmingway.
8425He tole me this mawnin’ he’s gwine feed them hawgs—an’ he ain’t done
8426it!”
8427
8428And then Mrs. Taylor appeared at the door and placed an arm around her
8429husband’s neck, drawing his head over to her and kissing him.
8430
8431She looked much like the Marion Harlan who had left the Arrow on a night
8432about a month before, though there was a more eloquent light in her
8433eyes, and a tenderness had come over her that made her whole being
8434radiate.
8435
8436“Don’t you think you had better get ready to go to Dawes, dear?” she
8437suggested.
8438
8439“I like that better than ‘Squint’ even,” he grinned.
8440
8441For a long time they stood in the doorway very close together. And then
8442Mrs. Taylor looked up with grave eyes at her husband.
8443
8444“Won’t you please let me look at _all_ of father’s note to you, Squint?”
8445she asked.
8446
8447“That can’t be done,” he grinned at her. “For,” he added, “that day
8448after I let you read part of it I burnt it. It’s gone—like a lot of
8449other things that are not needed now!”
8450
8451“But what did it say—that part that you wouldn’t let me read?” she
8452insisted.
8453
8454“It said,” he quoted, “‘I want you to marry her, Squint.’ And I have
8455done so—haven’t I?”
8456
8457“Was that _all_?” she persisted.
8458
8459“I’d call that plenty!” he laughed.
8460
8461“Well,” she sighed, “I suppose that will have to be sufficient. But get
8462ready, dear; they will be waiting for you!” She left him and went into a
8463room, from where she called back to him: “It won’t take me long to
8464dress.” And then, after an interval: “Where do you suppose Uncle Elam
8465went?”
8466
8467He scowled out of the doorway; then turned and smiled. “He didn’t say.
8468And he lost no time saying farewell to Dawes, once he got his hands on
8469the money Carrington left.” Taylor’s smile became a laugh, low and full
8470of amusement.
8471
8472Shortly Mrs. Taylor appeared, attired in a neat riding-habit, and Taylor
8473donned coat and hat, and they went arm in arm to the corral gate, where
8474their horses were standing, having been roped, saddled, and bridled by
8475the “lazy” Bud Hemmingway, who stood outside the bunkhouse grinning at
8476them.
8477
8478“Well, good luck!” Bud called after them as they rode toward Dawes.
8479
8480Lingering much on the way, and stopping at the Mullarky cabin, they
8481finally reached the edge of town and were met by Neil Norton, who
8482grinned widely when he greeted them.
8483
8484Norton waved a hand at Dawes. As in another time, Dawes was arrayed in
8485holiday attire, swathed in a riot of color—starry bunting, flags, and
8486streamers, with hundreds of Japanese lanterns suspended festoonlike
8487across the streets. And now, as Taylor and the blushing, moist-eyed
8488woman at his side rode down the street, a band on a platform near the
8489station burst into music, its brazen-tongued instruments drowning the
8490sound of cheering.
8491
8492“We got that from Lazette,” grinned Norton. “We had to have _some_
8493noise! As I told you the other day,” he went on, speaking loudly, so
8494that Taylor could hear him above the tumult, “it is all fixed up. Judge
8495Littlefield stayed on the job here, because he promised to be good. He
8496hadn’t really done anything, you know. And after we made Danforth and
8497the five councilmen resign that night, and saw them aboard the
8498east-bound the next morning, we made Littlefield wire the governor about
8499what had happened. Littlefield went to the capital shortly afterward and
8500told the governor some things that astonished him. And the governor
8501appointed you to fill Danforth’s unexpired term. But, of course, that
8502was only an easy way for the governor to surrender. So everything is
8503lovely.”
8504
8505Norton paused, out of breath.
8506
8507And Taylor smiled at his wife. “Yes,” he said, as he took her arm, “this
8508is a mighty good little old world—if you treat it right.”
8509
8510“And if you stay faithful,” added the moist-eyed woman.
8511
8512“And if you fall in love,” supplemented Taylor.
8513
8514“And when the people of a town want to honor you,” added Norton
8515significantly.
8516
8517And then, arm in arm, followed by Norton, Taylor and his wife rode
8518forward, their horses close together, toward the great crowd of people
8519that jammed the street around the band-stand, their voices now raised
8520above the music that blared forth from the brazen instruments.
8521
8522
8523
8524
8525EDGAR RICE BURROUGH’S NOVELS
8526
8527May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
8528
8529TARZAN THE UNTAMED
8530
8531 Tells of Tarzan’s return to the life of the ape-man in his search
8532 for vengeance on those who took from him his wife and home.
8533
8534JUNGLE TALES OF TARZAN
8535
8536 Records the many wonderful exploits by which Tarzan proves his right
8537 to ape kingship.
8538
8539A PRINCESS OF MARS
8540
8541 Forty-three million miles from the earth—a succession of the
8542 weirdest and most astounding adventures in fiction. John Carter,
8543 American, finds himself on the planet Mars, battling for a beautiful
8544 woman, with the Green Men of Mars, terrible creatures fifteen feet
8545 high, mounted on horses like dragons.
8546
8547THE GODS OF MARS
8548
8549 Continuing John Carter’s adventures on the Planet Mars, in which he
8550 does battle against the ferocious “plant men,” creatures whose
8551 mighty tails swished their victims to instant death, and defies
8552 Issus, the terrible Goddess of Death, whom all Mars worships and
8553 reveres.
8554
8555THE WARLORD OF MARS
8556
8557 Old acquaintances, made in the two other stories, reappear, Tars
8558 Tarkas, Tardos Mors and others. There is a happy ending to the story
8559 in the union of the Warlord, the title conferred upon John Carter,
8560 with Dejah Thoris.
8561
8562THUVIA, MAID OF MARS
8563
8564 The fourth volume of the series. The story centers around the
8565 adventures of Carthoris, the son of John Carter and Thuvia, daughter
8566 of a Martian Emperor.
8567
8568GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK.
8569
8570
8571
8572
8573ZANE GREY’S NOVELS
8574
8575May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
8576
8577 THE MAN OF THE FOREST
8578 THE DESERT OF WHEAT
8579 THE U. P. TRAIL
8580 WILDFIRE
8581 THE BORDER LEGION
8582 THE RAINBOW TRAIL
8583 THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT
8584 RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE
8585 THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS
8586 THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN
8587 THE LONE STAR RANGER
8588 DESERT GOLD
8589 BETTY ZANE
8590
8591LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS
8592
8593 The life story of “Buffalo Bill” by his sister Helen Cody Wetmore,
8594 with Foreword and conclusion by Zane Grey.
8595
8596ZANE GREY’S BOOKS FOR BOYS
8597
8598 KEN WARD IN THE JUNGLE
8599 THE YOUNG LION HUNTER
8600 THE YOUNG FORESTER
8601 THE YOUNG PITCHER
8602 THE SHORT STOP
8603 THE RED-HEADED OUTFIELD AND OTHER BASEBALL STORIES
8604
8605Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
8606
8607
8608
8609
8610JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD’S STORIES OF ADVENTURE
8611
8612May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
8613
8614THE RIVER’S END
8615
8616 A story of the Royal Mounted Police.
8617
8618THE GOLDEN SNARE
8619
8620 Thrilling adventures in the Far Northland.
8621
8622NOMADS OF THE NORTH
8623
8624 The story of a bear-cub and a dog.
8625
8626KAZAN
8627
8628 The tale of a “quarter-strain wolf and three-quarters husky” torn
8629 between the call of the human and his wild mate.
8630
8631BAREE, SON OF KAZAN
8632
8633 The story of the son of the blind Grey Wolf and the gallant part he
8634 played in the lives of a man and a woman.
8635
8636THE COURAGE OF CAPTAIN PLUM
8637
8638 The story of the King of Beaver Island, a Mormon colony, and his
8639 battle with Captain Plum.
8640
8641THE DANGER TRAIL
8642
8643 A tale of love, Indian vengeance, and a mystery of the North.
8644
8645THE HUNTED WOMAN
8646
8647 A tale of a great fight in the “valley of gold” for a woman.
8648
8649THE FLOWER OF THE NORTH
8650
8651 The story of Fort o’ God, where the wild flavor of the wilderness is
8652 blended with the courtly atmosphere of France.
8653
8654THE GRIZZLY KING
8655
8656 The story of Thor, the big grizzly.
8657
8658ISOBEL
8659
8660 A love story of the Far North.
8661
8662THE WOLF HUNTERS
8663
8664 A thrilling tale of adventure in the Canadian wilderness.
8665
8666THE GOLD HUNTERS
8667
8668 The story of adventure in the Hudson Bay wilds.
8669
8670THE COURAGE OF MARGE O’DOONE
8671
8672 Filled with exciting incidents in the land of strong men and women.
8673
8674BACK TO GOD’S COUNTRY
8675
8676 A thrilling story of the Far North. The great Photoplay was made
8677 from this book.
8678
8679Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
8680
8681
8682
8683
8684FLORENCE L. BARCLAY’S NOVELS
8685
8686May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
8687
8688THE WHITE LADIES OF WORCESTER
8689
8690 A novel of the 12th Century. The heroine, believing she had lost her
8691 lover, enters a convent. He returns, and interesting developments
8692 follow.
8693
8694THE UPAS TREE
8695
8696 A love story of rare charm. It deals with a successful author and
8697 his wife.
8698
8699THROUGH THE POSTERN GATE
8700
8701 The story of a seven day courtship, in which the discrepancy in ages
8702 vanished into insignificance before the convincing demonstration of
8703 abiding love.
8704
8705THE ROSARY
8706
8707 The story of a young artist who is reputed to love beauty above all
8708 else in the world, but who, when blinded through an accident, gains
8709 life’s greatest happiness. A rare story of the great passion of two
8710 real people superbly capable of love, its sacrifices and its
8711 exceeding reward.
8712
8713THE MISTRESS OF SHENSTONE
8714
8715 The lovely young Lady Ingleby, recently widowed by the death of a
8716 husband who never understood her, meets a fine, clean young chap who
8717 is ignorant of her title and they fall deeply in love with each
8718 other. When he learns her real identity a situation of singular
8719 power is developed.
8720
8721THE BROKEN HALO
8722
8723 The story of a young man whose religious belief was shattered in
8724 childhood and restored to him by the little white lady, many years
8725 older than himself, to whom he is passionately devoted.
8726
8727THE FOLLOWING OF THE STAR
8728
8729 The story of a young missionary, who, about to start for Africa,
8730 marries wealthy Diana Rivers, in order to help her fulfill the
8731 conditions of her uncle’s will, and how they finally come to love
8732 each other and are reunited after experiences that soften and
8733 purify.
8734
8735Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
8736
8737
8738
8739
8740ETHEL M. DELL’S NOVELS
8741
8742May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
8743
8744THE LAMP IN THE DESERT
8745
8746 The scene of this splendid story is laid in India and tells of the
8747 lamp of love that continues to shine through all sorts of
8748 tribulations to final happiness.
8749
8750GREATHEART
8751
8752 The story of a cripple whose deformed body conceals a noble soul.
8753
8754THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE
8755
8756 A hero who worked to win even when there was only “a hundredth
8757 chance.”
8758
8759THE SWINDLER
8760
8761 The story of a “bad man’s” soul revealed by a woman’s faith.
8762
8763THE TIDAL WAVE
8764
8765 Tales of love and of women who learned to know the true from the
8766 false.
8767
8768THE SAFETY CURTAIN
8769
8770 A very vivid love story of India. The volume also contains four
8771 other long stories of equal interest.
8772
8773Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
8774
8775
8776
8777
8778“STORM COUNTRY” BOOKS BY GRACE MILLER WHITE
8779
8780May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
8781
8782JUDY OF ROGUES’ HARBOR
8783
8784 Judy’s untutored ideas of God, her love of wild things, her faith in
8785 life are quite as inspiring as those of Tess. Her faith and
8786 sincerity catch at your heart strings. This book has all of the
8787 mystery and tense action of the other Storm Country books.
8788
8789TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY
8790
8791 It was as Tess, beautiful, wild, impetuous, that Mary Pickford made
8792 her reputation as a motion picture actress. How love acts upon a
8793 temperament such as hers—a temperament that makes a woman an angel
8794 or an outcast, according to the character of the man she loves—is
8795 the theme of the story.
8796
8797THE SECRET OF THE STORM COUNTRY
8798
8799 The sequel to “Tess of the Storm Country,” with the same wild
8800 background, with its half-gypsy life of the squatters—tempestuous,
8801 passionate, brooding. Tess learns the “secret” of her birth and
8802 finds happiness and love through her boundless faith in life.
8803
8804FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING
8805
8806 A haunting story with its scene laid near the country familiar to
8807 readers of “Tess of the Storm Country.”
8808
8809ROSE O’ PARADISE
8810
8811 “Jinny” Singleton, wild, lovely, lonely, but with a passionate
8812 yearning for music, grows up in the house of Lafe Grandoken, a
8813 crippled cobbler of the Storm Country. Her romance is full of power
8814 and glory and tenderness.
8815
8816_Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_
8817
8818Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
8819
8820
8821
8822
8823BOOTH TARKINGTON’S NOVELS
8824
8825May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.
8826
8827SEVENTEEN. Illustrated by Arthur William Brown.
8828
8829 No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortal
8830 young people of this story. Its humor is irresistible and
8831 reminiscent of the time when the reader was Seventeen.
8832
8833PENROD. Illustrated by Gordon Grant.
8834
8835 This is a picture of a boy’s heart, full of the lovable, humorous,
8836 tragic things which are locked secrets to most older folks. It is a
8837 finished, exquisite work.
8838
8839PENROD AND SAM. Illustrated by Worth Brehm.
8840
8841 Like “Penrod” and “Seventeen,” this book contains some remarkable
8842 phases of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenile
8843 prankishness that have ever been written.
8844
8845THE TURMOIL. Illustrated by C. E. Chambers.
8846
8847 Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts against
8848 his father’s plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The
8849 love of a fine girl turns Bibbs’ life from failure to success.
8850
8851THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA. Frontispiece.
8852
8853 A story of love and politics,—more especially a picture of a
8854 country editor’s life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies in
8855 the love interest.
8856
8857THE FLIRT. Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood.
8858
8859 The “Flirt,” the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl’s
8860 engagement, drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another,
8861 leads another to lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid
8862 and unpromising suitor, leaving the really worthy one to marry her
8863 sister.
8864
8865_Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_
8866
8867Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
8868
8869
8870
8871
8872KATHLEEN NORRIS’ STORIES
8873
8874May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list
8875
8876SISTERS. Frontispiece by Frank Street.
8877
8878 The California Redwoods furnish the background for this beautiful
8879 story of sisterly devotion and sacrifice.
8880
8881POOR, DEAR, MARGARET KIRBY.
8882
8883 Frontispiece by George Gibbs.
8884
8885 A collection of delightful stories, including “Bridging the Years”
8886 and “The Tide-Marsh.” This story is now shown in moving pictures.
8887
8888JOSSELYN’S WIFE. Frontispiece by C. Allan Gilbert.
8889
8890 The story of a beautiful woman who fought a bitter fight for
8891 happiness and love.
8892
8893MARTIE, THE UNCONQUERED.
8894
8895 Illustrated by Charles E. Chambers.
8896
8897 The triumph of a dauntless spirit over adverse conditions.
8898
8899THE HEART OF RACHAEL.
8900
8901 Frontispiece by Charles E. Chambers.
8902
8903 An interesting story of divorce and the problems that come with a
8904 second marriage.
8905
8906THE STORY OF JULIA PAGE.
8907
8908 Frontispiece by C. Allan Gilbert.
8909
8910 A sympathetic portrayal of the quest of a normal girl, obscure and
8911 lonely, for the happiness of life.
8912
8913SATURDAY’S CHILD. Frontispiece by F. Graham Cootes.
8914
8915 Can a girl, born in rather sordid conditions, lift herself through
8916 sheer determination to the better things for which her soul
8917 hungered?
8918
8919MOTHER. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
8920
8921 A story of the big mother heart that beats in the background of
8922 every girl’s life, and some dreams which came true.
8923
8924_Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_
8925
8926Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
8927
8928
8929
8930
8931
8932End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ranchman, by Charles Alden Seltzer
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