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diff --git a/27051-h/27051-h.htm b/27051-h/27051-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6b387d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/27051-h/27051-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10206 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Trail To Yesterday, by Charles Alden Seltzer. +</title> + +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size: 1.2em;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + div.ce p {text-align: center; margin: auto 0;} + hr.mini {width: 2em; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + div.la p {text-align: left; margin: auto 0;} + .caption {font-size:.8em;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + hr.tb {width: 35%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + hr.silver {width: 100%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size: 1.4em;} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Trail to Yesterday, by Charles Alden Seltzer + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Trail to Yesterday + +Author: Charles Alden Seltzer + +Release Date: October 26, 2008 [EBook #27051] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL TO YESTERDAY *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>THE TRAIL TO YESTERDAY</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 384px; height: 560px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 384px;'> +“IF YOU WANT THE PARSON TO DIE, DON’T LOOK AT ME WHEN HE STEPS IN.”<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:2.2em; margin-top:0.7em;'>The Trail To</p> +<p style=' font-size:2.2em; margin-bottom:0.5em;'>Yesterday</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:2em; font-style:italic;'>By Charles Alden Seltzer</p> +<p>Author of</p> +<p>“The Two-Gun Man,”</p> +<p>“The Coming of the Law,”</p> +<p>Etc.</p> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-emb.png' alt='' title='' /><br /> +</div> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:1em; font-style:italic;'>With Three Illustrations</p> +<p>A. L. BURT COMPANY</p> +<p style=' margin-bottom:1em;'>PUBLISHERS NEW YORK</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Copyright, 1913, by</span></p> +<p>OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY</p> +</div> + +<hr class='mini' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>All rights reserved</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>CONTENTS</p> +</div> + +<table border='0' width='500' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Woman on the Trail</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_A_WOMAN_ON_THE_TRAIL'>11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Dim Trail</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_THE_DIM_TRAIL'>40</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Converging Trails</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_CONVERGING_TRAILS'>53</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>This Picture and That</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_THIS_PICTURE_AND_THAT'>72</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dakota Evens a Score</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_DAKOTA_EVENS_A_SCORE'>88</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Kindred Spirits</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_KINDRED_SPIRITS'>111</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Bogged Down</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_BOGGED_DOWN'>121</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Sheila Fans a Flame</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_SHEILA_FANS_A_FLAME'>146</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Strictly Business</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_STRICTLY_BUSINESS'>163</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Duncan Adds Two and Two</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_DUNCAN_ADDS_TWO_AND_TWO'>196</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Parting and a Visit</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_A_PARTING_AND_A_VISIT'>215</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>A Meeting on the River Trail</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_A_MEETING_ON_THE_RIVER_TRAIL'>233</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Shot in the Back</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIII_THE_SHOT_IN_THE_BACK'>254</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Langford Lays Off the Mask</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIV_LANGFORD_LAYS_OFF_THE_MASK'>275</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Parting on the River Trail</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XV_THE_PARTING_ON_THE_RIVER_TRAIL'>303</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Sheriff Allen Takes a Hand</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVI_SHERIFF_ALLEN_TAKES_A_HAND'>310</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Doubler Talks</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVII_DOUBLER_TALKS'>323</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVIII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>For Dakota</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XVIII_FOR_DAKOTA'>336</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Some Memories</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XIX_SOME_MEMORIES'>344</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XX.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Into the Unknown</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XX_INTO_THE_UNKNOWN'>359</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:1em;'>ILLUSTRATIONS</p> +</div> + +<table border='0' width='400' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Illustrations' style='margin:1em auto'> +<col style='width:80%;' /> +<col style='width:20%;' /> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“If you want the parson to die, don’t look at me when he steps in.”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_1'>Frontispiece</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“Won’t you please get us out of this?”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_2'>134</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>Duncan grasped for his pistol, but the hand holding it was stamped violently into the earth.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_3'>161</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span></div> +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>THE TRAIL TO</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>YESTERDAY</p> +</div> + +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='I_A_WOMAN_ON_THE_TRAIL' id='I_A_WOMAN_ON_THE_TRAIL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>A WOMAN ON THE TRAIL</h3> +</div> + +<p>Many disquieting thoughts oppressed +Miss Sheila Langford as she halted +her pony on the crest of a slight rise +and swept the desolate and slumberous +world with an anxious glance. Quite the +most appalling of these thoughts developed +from a realization of the fact that she had +lost the trail. The whole categorical array +of inconveniences incidental to traveling in +a new, unsettled country paled into insignificance +when she considered this horrifying +and entirely unromantic fact. She was +lost; she had strayed from the trail, she was +alone and night was coming.</p> +<p>She would not have cared so much about +the darkness, for she had never been a coward, +and had conditions been normal she +would have asked nothing better than a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +rapid gallop over the dim plains. But as +she drew her pony up on the crest of the +rise a rumble of thunder reached her ears. +Of course it would rain, now that she had +lost the trail, she decided, yielding to a sudden, +bitter anger. It usually did rain when +one was abroad without prospect of shelter; +it always rained when one was lost.</p> +<p>Well, there was no help for it, of course, +and she had only herself to blame for the +blunder. For the other—not unusual—irritating +details that had combined to place her +in this awkward position she could blame, +first Duncan, the manager of the Double +R—who should have sent someone to meet +her at the station; the station agent—who +had allowed her to set forth in search of the +Double R without a guide,—though even +now, considering this phase of the situation, +she remembered that the agent had told her +there was no one to send—and certainly the +desolate appearance of Lazette had borne +out this statement; and last, she could blame +the country itself for being an unfeatured +wilderness.</p> +<p>Something might be said in extenuation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +of the station agent’s and the Double R +manager’s sins of omission, but without +doubt the country was what she had termed +it—an unfeatured wilderness. Her first +sensation upon getting a view of the country +had been one of deep disappointment. +There was plenty of it, she had decided,—enough +to make one shrink from its very +bigness; yet because it was different from +the land she had been accustomed to she felt +that somehow it was inferior. Her father +had assured her of its beauty, and she had +come prepared to fall in love with it, but +within the last half hour—when she had begun +to realize that she had lost the trail—she +had grown to hate it.</p> +<p>She hated the desolation, the space, the silence, +the arid stretches; she had made grimaces +at the “cactuses” with their forbidding +pricklers—though she could not help admiring +them, they seemed to be the only +growing thing in the country capable of defying +the heat and the sun. Most of all she +hated the alkali dust. All afternoon she had +kept brushing it off her clothing and clearing +it out of her throat, and only within the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +last half hour she had begun to realize that +her efforts had been without result—it lay +thick all over her; her throat was dry and +parched with it, and her eyes burned.</p> +<p>She sat erect, flushed and indignant, to +look around at the country. A premonitory +calm had succeeded the warning rumble. +Ominous black clouds were scurrying, wind-whipped, +spreading fan-like through the +sky, blotting out the colors of the sunset, +darkening the plains, creating weird shadows. +Objects that Sheila had been able to +see quite distinctly when she had reined in +her pony were no longer visible. She stirred +uneasily.</p> +<p>“We’ll go somewhere,” she said aloud to +the pony, as she urged the animal down the +slope. “If it rains we’ll get just as wet +here as we would anywhere else.” She was +surprised at the queer quiver in her voice. +She was going to be brave, of course, but +somehow there seemed to be little consolation +in the logic of her remark.</p> +<p>The pony shambled forward, carefully +picking its way, and Sheila mentally thanked +the station agent for providing her with so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +reliable a beast. There was one consoling +fact at any rate, and she retracted many +hard things she had said in the early part of +her ride about the agent.</p> +<p>Shuffling down the slope the pony struck +a level. After traveling over this for a quarter +of an hour Sheila became aware of an +odd silence; looking upward she saw that +the clouds were no longer in motion; that +they were hovering, low and black, directly +overhead. A flash of lightning suddenly +illuminated the sky, showing Sheila a great +waste of world that stretched to four horizons. +It revealed, in the distance, the naked +peaks of some hills; a few frowning buttes +that seemed to fringe a river; some gullies in +which lurked forbidding shadows; clumps +of desert growth—the cactus—now seeming +grotesque and mocking; the snaky octilla; +the filmy, rustling mesquite; the dust-laden +sage-brush; the soap weed; the sentinel lance +of the yucca. Then the light was gone and +darkness came again.</p> +<p>Sheila shuddered and vainly tried to force +down a queer lump that had risen in her +throat over the desolation of it all. It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +not anything like her father had pictured it! +Men had the silly habit of exaggerating in +these things, she decided—they were rough +themselves and they made the mistake of +thinking that great, grim things were attractive. +What beauty was there, for instance, +in a country where there was nothing +but space and silence and grotesque +weeds—and rain? Before she could answer +this question a sudden breeze swept over +her; a few large drops of rain dashed into +her face, and her thoughts returned to herself.</p> +<p>The pony broke into a sharp lope and she +allowed it to hold the pace, wisely concluding +that the animal was probably more familiar +with the country than she. She found +herself wondering why she had not thought +of that before—when, for example, a few +miles back she had deliberately guided it +out of a beaten trail toward a section of +country where, she had imagined, the traveling +would be better. No doubt she had +strayed from the trail just there.</p> +<p>The drops of rain grew more frequent; +they splashed into her face; she could feel +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +them striking her arms and shoulders. The +pony’s neck and mane became moist under +her hand, the darkness increased for a time +and the continuing rumble in the heavens +presaged a steady downpour.</p> +<p>The pony moved faster now; it needed no +urging, and Sheila held her breath for fear +that it might fall, straining her eyes to watch +its limbs as they moved with the sure regularity +of an automaton. After a time they +reached the end of the level; Sheila could +tell that the pony was negotiating another +rise, for it slackened speed appreciably and +she felt herself settling back against the +cantle of the saddle. A little later she realized +that they were going down the opposite +side of the rise, and a moment later they +were again on a level. A deeper blackness +than they had yet encountered rose on their +right, and Sheila correctly decided it to be +caused by a stretch of wood that she had observed +from the crest of the rise where she +had halted her pony for a view of the country. +After an interval, during which she debated +the wisdom of directing her pony into +the wood for protection from the rain which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +was now coming against her face in vicious +slants, her pony nickered shrilly!</p> +<p>A thrill of fear assailed Sheila. She knew +horses and was certain that some living thing +was on the trail in front of her. Halting +the pony, she held tightly to the reins +through a short, tense silence. Then presently, +from a point just ahead on the trail, +came an answering nicker in the horse language. +Sheila’s pony cavorted nervously +and broke into a lope, sharper this time in +spite of the tight rein she kept on it. Her +fear grew, though mingling with it was a +devout hope. If only the animal which had +answered her own pony belonged to the +Double R! She would take back many of +the unkind and uncharitable things she had +said about the country since she had lost +the trail.</p> +<p>The pony’s gait had quickened into a gallop—which +she could not check. In the past +few minutes the darkness had lifted a little; +she saw that the pony was making a gradual +turn, following a bend in the river. Then +came a flash of lightning and she saw, a +short distance ahead, a pony and rider, stationary, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +watching. With an effort she succeeded +in reining in her own animal, and +while she sat in the saddle, trembling and +anxious, there came another flash of lightning +and she saw the rider’s face.</p> +<p>The rider was a cowboy. She had distinctly +seen the leathern chaps on his legs; +the broad hat, the scarf at his throat. Doubt +and fear assailed her. What if the man did +not belong to the Double R? What if he +were a road agent—an outlaw? Immediately +she heard an exclamation from him in +which she detected much surprise and not a +little amusement.</p> +<p>“Shucks!” he said. “It’s a woman!”</p> +<p>There came a slow movement. In the lifting +darkness Sheila saw the man return a +pistol to the holster that swung at his right +hip. He carelessly threw one leg over the +pommel of his saddle and looked at her. She +sat very rigid, debating a sudden impulse to +urge her pony past him and escape the danger +that seemed to threaten. While she +watched he shoved the broad brimmed hat +back from his forehead. He was not over +five feet distant from her; she could feel her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +pony nuzzling his with an inquisitive muzzle, +and she could dimly see the rider’s face. It +belonged to a man of probably twenty-eight +or thirty; it had regular features, keen, level +eyes and a firm mouth. There was a slight +smile on his face and somehow the fear that +had oppressed Sheila began to take flight. +And while she sat awaiting the turn of +events his voice again startled her:</p> +<p>“I reckon you’ve stampeded off your +range, ma’am?”</p> +<p>A sigh of relief escaped Sheila. The +voice was very gentle and friendly.</p> +<p>“I don’t think that I have stampeded—whatever +that means,” she returned, reassured +now that the stranger gave promise of +being none of the dire figures of her imagination; +“I am lost merely. You see, I am +looking for the Double R ranch.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” he said inexpressively; “the +Double R.”</p> +<p>There ensued a short silence and she could +not see his face for he had bowed his head +a little and the broad brimmed hat intervened.</p> +<p>“Do you know where the Double R ranch +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +is?” There was a slight impatience in her +voice.</p> +<p>“Sure,” came his voice. “It’s up the +crick a ways.”</p> +<p>“How far?”</p> +<p>“Twenty miles.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” This information was disheartening. +Twenty miles! And the rain was +coming steadily down; she could feel it soaking +through her clothing. A bitter, unreasoning +anger against nature, against the circumstances +which had conspired to place her +in this position; against the man for his apparent +lack of interest in her welfare, moved +her, though she might have left the man out +of it, for certainly he could not be held responsible. +Yet his nonchalance, his serenity—something +about him—irritated her. +Didn’t he know she was getting wet? Why +didn’t he offer her shelter? It did not occur +to her that perhaps he knew of no shelter. +But while her indignation over his inaction +grew she saw that he was doing something—fumbling +at a bundle that seemed to be +strapped to the cantle of his saddle. And +then he leaned forward—very close to her—and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +she saw that he was offering her a tarpaulin.</p> +<p>“Wrap yourself in this,” he directed. “It +ain’t pretty, of course, but it’ll keep you +from getting drenched. Rain ain’t no respecter +of persons.”</p> +<p>She detected a compliment in this but ignored +it and placed the tarpaulin around +her shoulders. Then it suddenly occurred +to her that he was without protection. She +hesitated.</p> +<p>“Thank you,” she said, “but I can’t take +this. You haven’t anything for yourself.”</p> +<p>A careless laugh reached her. “That’s +all right; I don’t need anything.”</p> +<p>There was silence again. He broke it +with a question.</p> +<p>“What are you figuring to do now?”</p> +<p>What was she going to do? The prospect +of a twenty-mile ride through a strange +country in a drenching rain was far from +appealing to her. Her hesitation was eloquent.</p> +<p>“I do not know,” she answered, no way +of escape from the dilemma presenting +itself. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span></p> +<p>“You can go on, of course,” he said, “and +get lost, or hurt—or killed. It’s a bad trail. +Or”—he continued, hesitating a little and +appearing to speak with an effort—“there’s +my shack. You can have that.”</p> +<p>Then he did have a dwelling place. This +voluntary information removed another of +the fearsome doubts that had beset her. She +had been afraid that he might prove to be +an irresponsible wanderer, but when a man +kept a house it gave to his character a certain +recommendation, it suggested stability, +more, it indicated honesty.</p> +<p>Of course she would have to accept the +shelter of his “shack.” There was no help +for it, for it was impossible for her to entertain +the idea of riding twenty miles over an +unknown trail, through the rain and darkness. +Moreover, she was not afraid of the +stranger now, for in spite of his easy, serene +movements, his quiet composure, his suppressed +amusement, Sheila detected a note +in his voice which told her that he was deeply +concerned over her welfare—even though +he seemed to be enjoying her. In any event +she could not go forward, for the unknown +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +terrified her and she felt that in accepting +the proffered shelter of his “shack” she was +choosing the lesser of two dangers. She decided +quickly.</p> +<p>“I shall accept—I think. Will you please +hurry? I am getting wet in spite of this—this +covering.”</p> +<p>Wheeling without a word he proceeded +down the trail, following the river. The +darkness had abated somewhat, the low-hanging +clouds had taken on a grayish-white +hue, and the rain was coming down in +torrents. Sheila pulled the tarpaulin tighter +about her shoulders and clung desperately +to the saddle, listening to the whining of the +wind through the trees that flanked her, +keeping a watchful eye on the tall, swaying, +indistinct figure of her guide.</p> +<p>After riding for a quarter of an hour they +reached a little clearing near the river and +Sheila saw her guide halt his pony and dismount. +A squat, black shape loomed out of +the darkness near her and, riding closer, she +saw a small cabin, of the lean-to type, constructed +of adobe bricks. A dog barked in +front of her and she heard the stranger +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +speak sharply to it. He silently approached +and helped her down from the saddle. Then +he led both horses away into the darkness on +the other side of the cabin. During his absence +she found time to glance about her. +It was a desolate place. Did he live here +alone?</p> +<p>The silence brought no answer to this +question, and while she continued to search +out objects in the darkness she saw the +stranger reappear around the corner of the +cabin and approach the door. He fumbled +at it for a moment and threw it open. He +disappeared within and an instant later +Sheila heard the scratch of a match and saw +a feeble glimmer of light shoot out through +the doorway. Then the stranger’s voice:</p> +<p>“Come in.”</p> +<p>He had lighted a candle that stood on a +table in the center of the room, and in its +glaring flicker as she stepped inside Sheila +caught her first good view of the stranger’s +face. She felt reassured instantly, for it +was a good face, with lines denoting strength +of character. The drooping mustache did +not quite conceal his lips, which were straight +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +and firm. Sheila was a little disturbed over +the hard expression in them, however, +though she had heard that the men of the +West lived rather hazardous lives and she +supposed that in time their faces showed it. +It was his eyes, though, that gave her a fleeting +glimpse of his character. They were +blue—a steely, fathomless blue; baffling, +mocking; swimming—as she looked into +them now—with an expression that she +could not attempt to analyze. One thing +she saw in them only,—recklessness—and +she drew a slow, deep breath.</p> +<p>They were standing very close together. +He caught the deep-drawn breath and +looked quickly at her, his eyes alight and +narrowed with an expression which was a +curious mingling of quizzical humor and +grim enjoyment. Her own eyes did not +waver, though his were boring into hers +steadily, as though he were trying to read +her thoughts.</p> +<p>“Afraid?” he questioned, with a suggestion +of sarcasm in the curl of his lips.</p> +<p>Sheila stiffened, her eyes flashing defiance. +She studied him steadily, her spirit battling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +his over the few feet that separated them. +Then she spoke deliberately, evenly: “I +am not afraid of you!”</p> +<p>“That’s right.” A gratified smile broke +on the straight, hard lips. A new expression +came into his eyes—admiration. +“You’ve got nerve, ma’am. I’m some +pleased that you’ve got that much trust in +me. You don’t need to be scared. You’re +as safe here as you’d be out there.” He +nodded toward the open door. “Safer,” he +added with a grave smile; “you might get +hurt out there.”</p> +<p>He turned abruptly and went to the door, +where he stood for a long time looking out +into the darkness. She watched him for a +moment and then removed the tarpaulin and +hung it from a nail in the wall of the cabin. +Standing near the table she glanced about +her. There was only one room in the cabin, +but it was large—about twenty by twenty, +she estimated. Beside an open fireplace in a +corner were several pots and pans—his cooking +utensils. On a shelf were some dishes. A +guitar swung from a gaudy string suspended +from the wall. A tin of tobacco and a pipe +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +reposed on another shelf beside a box of +matches. A bunk filled a corner and she +went over to it, fearing. But it was clean +and the bed clothing fresh and she smiled a +little as she continued her examination.</p> +<p>The latter finished she went to a small +window above the bunk, looking out into the +night. The rain came against the glass in +stinging slants, and watching it she found +herself feeling very grateful to the man who +stood in the doorway. Turning abruptly, +she caught him watching her, an appraising +smile on his face.</p> +<p>“You ought to be hungry by now,” he +said. “There’s a fireplace and some wood. +Do you want a fire?”</p> +<p>In response to her nod he kindled a fire, +she standing beside the window watching +him, noting his lithe, easy movements. She +could not mistake the strength and virility +of his figure, even with his back turned to +her, but it seemed to her that there was a +certain recklessness in his actions—as though +his every movement advertised a careless regard +for consequences. She held her breath +when he split a short log into slender splinters, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +for he swung the short-handled axe +with a loose grasp, as though he cared very +little where its sharp blade landed. But she +noted that he struck with precision despite +his apparent carelessness, every blow falling +true. His manner of handling the axe reflected +the spirit that shone in his eyes when, +after kindling the fire, he stood up and +looked at her.</p> +<p>“There’s grub in the chuck box,” he +stated shortly. “There’s some pans and +things. It ain’t what you might call elegant—not +what you’ve been used to, I expect. +But it’s a heap better than nothing, and I +reckon you’ll be able to get along.” He +turned and walked to the doorway, standing +in it for an instant, facing out. “Good-night,” +he added. The tarpaulin dangled +from his arm.</p> +<p>Evidently he intended going away. A +sudden dread of being alone filled her. +“Wait!” she cried involuntarily. “Where +are you going?”</p> +<p>He halted and looked back at her, an odd +smile on his face.</p> +<p>“To my bunk.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span></p> +<p>“Oh!” She could not analyze the smile +on his face, but in it she thought she detected +something subtle—untruthfulness perhaps. +She glanced at the tarpaulin and from it to +his eyes, holding her gaze steadily.</p> +<p>“You are going to sleep in the open,” she +said.</p> +<p>He caught the accusation in her eyes and +his face reddened.</p> +<p>“Well,” he admitted, “I’ve done it before.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps,” she said, a little doubtfully. +“But I do not care to feel that I am driving +you out into the storm. You might catch +cold and die. And I should not want to +think that I was responsible for your death.”</p> +<p>“A little wetting wouldn’t hurt me.” He +looked at her appraisingly, a glint of sympathy +in his eyes. Standing there, framed +in the darkness, the flickering light from the +candle on his strong, grave face, he made a +picture that, she felt, she would not soon +forget.</p> +<p>“I reckon you ain’t afraid to stay here +alone, ma’am,” he said.</p> +<p>“Yes,” she returned frankly, “I am +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +afraid. I do not want to stay here alone.”</p> +<p>A pistol flashed in his hand, its butt toward +her, and now for the first time she saw +another at his hip. She repressed a desire +to shudder and stared with dilated eyes at +the extended weapon.</p> +<p>“Take this gun,” he offered. “It ain’t +much for looks, but it’ll go right handy. +You can bar the door, too, and the window.”</p> +<p>She refused to take the weapon. “I +wouldn’t know how to use it if I had occasion +to. I prefer to have you remain in the +cabin—for protection.”</p> +<p>He bowed. “I thought you’d—” he began, +and then smiled wryly. “It certainly +would be some wet outside,” he admitted. +“It wouldn’t be pleasant sleeping. I’ll lay +over here by the door when I get my blankets.”</p> +<p>He went outside and in a few minutes reappeared +with his blankets and saddle. +Without speaking a word to Sheila he laid +the saddle down, spread the blanket over it, +and stretched himself out on his back.</p> +<p>“I don’t know about the light,” he said +after an interval of silence, during which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +Sheila sat on the edge of the bunk and regarded +his profile appraisingly. “You can +blow it out if you like.”</p> +<p>“I prefer to have it burning.”</p> +<p>“Suit yourself.”</p> +<p>Sheila got up and placed the candle in a +tin dish as a precaution against fire. Then, +when its position satisfied her she left the +table and went to the bunk, stretching herself +out on it, fully dressed.</p> +<p>For a long time she lay, listening to the +soft patter of the rain on the roof, looking +upward at the drops that splashed against +the window, listening to the fitful whining +of the wind through the trees near the cabin. +Her eyes closed presently, sleep was fast +claiming her. Then she heard her host’s +voice:</p> +<p>“You’re from the East, I reckon.”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Where?”</p> +<p>“New York.”</p> +<p>“City?”</p> +<p>“Albany.”</p> +<p>There was a silence. Sheila was thoroughly +awake again, and once more her gaze +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +went to the window, where unceasing +streams trickled down the glass. Whatever +fear she had had of the owner of the cabin +had long ago been dispelled by his manner +which, though puzzling, hinted of the gentleman. +She would have liked him better +were it not for the reckless gleam in his eyes; +that gleam, it seemed to her, indicated a +trait of character which was not wholly admirable.</p> +<p>“What have you come out here for?”</p> +<p>Sheila smiled at the rain-spattered window, +a flash of pleased vanity in her eyes. +His voice had been low, but in it she detected +much curiosity, even interest. It was not +surprising, of course, that he should feel an +interest in her; other men had been interested +in her too, only they had not been men +that lived in romantic wildernesses,—observe +that she did not make use of the term +“unfeatured,” which she had manufactured +soon after realizing that she was lost—nor +had they carried big revolvers, like this man, +who seemed also to know very well how to +use them.</p> +<p>Those other men who had been interested +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +in her had had a way of looking at her; there +had always been a significant boldness in +their eyes which belied the gentleness of demeanor +which, she had always been sure, +merely masked their real characters. She +had never been able to look squarely at any +of those men, the men of her circle who had +danced attendance upon her at the social +functions that had formerly filled her existence—without +a feeling of repugnance.</p> +<p>They had worn man-shapes, of course, +but somehow they had seemed to lack something +real and vital; seemed to have possessed +nothing of that forceful, magnetic +personality which was needed to arouse her +sympathy and interest. Not that the man +on the floor in front of the door interested +her—she could not admit that! But she had +felt a sympathy for him in his loneliness, +and she had looked into his eyes—had been +able to look steadily into them, and though +she had seen expressions that had puzzled +her, she had at least seen nothing to cause +her to feel any uneasiness. She had seen +manliness there, and indomitability, and +force, and it had seemed to her to be sufficient. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +His would be an ideal face were it +not for the expression that lingered about +the lips, were it not for the reckless glint in +his eyes—a glint that revealed an untamed +spirit.</p> +<p>His question remained unanswered. He +stirred impatiently, and glancing at him +Sheila saw that he had raised himself so +that his chin rested in his hand, his elbow +supported by the saddle.</p> +<p>“You here for a visit?” he questioned.</p> +<p>“Perhaps,” she said. “I do not know +how long I shall stay. My father has bought +the Double R.”</p> +<p>For a long time it seemed that he would +have no comment to make on this and +Sheila’s lips took on a decidedly petulant +expression. Apparently he was not interested +in her after all.</p> +<p>“Then Duncan has sold out?” There +was satisfaction in his voice.</p> +<p>“You are keen,” she mocked.</p> +<p>“And tickled,” he added.</p> +<p>His short laugh brought a sudden interest +into her eyes. “Then you don’t like Duncan,” +she said. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span></p> +<p>“I reckon you’re some keen too,” came +the mocking response.</p> +<p>Sheila flushed, turned and looked defiantly +at him. His hand still supported his head +and there was an unmistakable interest in +his eyes as he caught her glance at him and +smiled.</p> +<p>“You got any objections to telling me +your name? We ain’t been introduced, you +know?” he said.</p> +<p>“It is Sheila Langford.”</p> +<p>She had turned her head and was giving +her attention to the window above her. The +fingers of the hand that had been supporting +his head slowly clenched, he raised himself +slightly, his body rigid, his chin thrusting, +his face pale, his eyes burning with a +sudden fierce fire. Once he opened his lips +to speak, but instantly closed them again, +and a smile wreathed them—a mirthless +smile that had in it a certain cold caution +and cunning. After a silence that lasted +long his voice came again, drawling, well-controlled, +revealing nothing of the emotion +which had previously affected him.</p> +<p>“What is your father’s name?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span></p> +<p>“David Dowd Langford. An uncommon +middle name, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“Yes. Uncommon,” came his reply. His +face, with the light of the candle gleaming +full upon it, bore a queer pallor—the white +of cold ashes. His right hand, which had +been resting carelessly on the blanket, was +now gripping it, the muscles tense and knotted. +Yet after another long silence his voice +came again—drawling, well-controlled, as +before:</p> +<p>“What is he coming out here for?”</p> +<p>“He has retired from business and is coming +out here for his health.”</p> +<p>“What business was he in?”</p> +<p>“Wholesale hardware.”</p> +<p>He was silent again and presently, hearing +him stir, Sheila looked covertly at him. +He had turned, his back was toward her, +and he was stretched out on the blanket as +though, fully satisfied with the result of his +questioning, he intended going to sleep. For +several minutes Sheila watched him with a +growing curiosity. It was like a man to ask +all and give nothing. He had questioned +her to his complete satisfaction but had told +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +nothing of himself. She was determined to +discover something about him.</p> +<p>“Who are you?” she questioned.</p> +<p>“Dakota,” he said shortly.</p> +<p>“Dakota?” she repeated, puzzled. “That +isn’t a name; it’s a State—or a Territory.”</p> +<p>“I’m Dakota. Ask anybody.” There +was a decided drawl in his voice.</p> +<p>This information was far from being satisfactory, +but she supposed it must answer. +Still, she persisted. “Where are you +from?”</p> +<p>“Dakota.”</p> +<p>That seemed to end it. It had been a +short quest and an unsatisfactory one. It +was perfectly plain to her that he was some +sort of a rancher—at the least a cowboy. It +was also plain that he had been a cowboy before +coming to this section of the country—probably +in Dakota. She was perplexed +and vexed and nibbled impatiently at her +lips.</p> +<p>“Dakota isn’t your real name,” she declared +sharply.</p> +<p>“Ain’t it?” There came the drawl again. +It irritated her this time. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span></p> +<p>“No!” she snapped.</p> +<p>“Well, it’s as good as any other. Good-night.”</p> +<p>Sheila did not answer. Five minutes later +she was asleep.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='II_THE_DIM_TRAIL' id='II_THE_DIM_TRAIL'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>THE DIM TRAIL</h3> +</div> + +<p>Sheila had been dreaming of a world +in which there was nothing but rain +and mud and clouds and reckless-eyed +individuals who conversed in irritating +drawls when a sharp crash of thunder +awakened her. During her sleep she had +turned her face to the wall, and when her +eyes opened the first thing that her gaze +rested on was the small window above her +head. She regarded it for some time, following +with her eyes the erratic streams +that trickled down the glass, stretching out +wearily, listening to the wind. It was cold +and bleak outside and she had much to be +thankful for.</p> +<p>She was glad that she had not allowed the +mysterious inhabitant of the cabin to sleep +out in his tarpaulin, for the howling of the +wind brought weird thoughts into her mind; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +she reflected upon her helplessness and it +was extremely satisfying to know that within +ten feet of her lay a man whose two big revolvers—even +though she feared them—seemed +to insure protection. It was odd, +she told herself, that she should place so +much confidence in Dakota, and her presence +in the cabin with him was certainly a +breach of propriety which—were her friends +in the East to hear of it—would arouse much +comment—entirely unfavorable to her. Yes, +it was odd, yet considering Dakota, she was +not in the least disturbed. So far his conduct +toward her had been that of the perfect +gentleman, and in spite of the recklessness +that gleamed in his eyes whenever he looked +at her she was certain that he would continue +to be a gentleman.</p> +<p>It was restful to lie and listen to the rain +splashing on the roof and against the window, +but sleep, for some unaccountable reason, +seemed to grow farther from her—the +recollection of events during the past few +hours left no room in her thoughts for sleep. +Turning, after a while, to seek a more comfortable +position, she saw Dakota sitting at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +the table, on the side opposite her, watching +her intently.</p> +<p>“Can’t sleep, eh?” he said, when he saw +her looking at him. “Storm bother you?”</p> +<p>“I think it was the thunder that awakened +me,” she returned. “Thunder always +does. Evidently it disturbs you too.”</p> +<p>“I haven’t been asleep,” he said in a curt +tone.</p> +<p>He continued to watch her with a quiet, +appraising gaze. It was evident that he +had been thinking of her when she had +turned to look at him. She flushed with embarrassment +over the thought that while she +had been asleep he must have been considering +her, and yet, looking closely at him now, +she decided that his expression was frankly +impersonal.</p> +<p>He glanced at his watch. “You’ve been +asleep two hours,” he said. “I’ve been +watching you—and envying you.”</p> +<p>“Envying me? Why? Are you troubled +with insomnia?”</p> +<p>He laughed. “Nothing so serious as that. +It’s just thoughts.”</p> +<p>“Pleasant ones, of course.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></p> +<p>“You might call them pleasant. I’ve +been thinking of you.”</p> +<p>Sheila found no reply to make to this, but +blushed again.</p> +<p>“Thinking of you,” repeated Dakota. +“Of the chance you took in coming out here +alone—in coming into my shack. We’re +twenty miles from town here—twenty miles +from the Double R—the nearest ranch. It +isn’t likely that a soul will pass here for a +month. Suppose——”</p> +<p>“We won’t ‘suppose,’ if you please,” said +Sheila. Her face had grown slowly pale, +but there was a confident smile on her lips +as she looked at him.</p> +<p>“No?” he said, watching her steadily. +“Why? Isn’t it quite possible that you +could have fallen in with a sort of man——”</p> +<p>“As it happens, I did not,” interrupted +Sheila.</p> +<p>“How do you know?”</p> +<p>Sheila’s gaze met his unwaveringly. “Because +you are the man,” she said slowly.</p> +<p>She thought she saw a glint of pleasure +in his eyes, but was not quite certain, for his +expression changed instantly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span></p> +<p>“Fate, or Providence—or whatever you +are pleased to call the power that shuffles us +flesh and blood mannikins around—has a +way of putting us all in the right places. I +expect that’s one of the reasons why you +didn’t fall in with the sort of man I was going +to tell you about,” said Dakota.</p> +<p>“I don’t see what Fate has to do—” began +Sheila, wondering at his serious tone.</p> +<p>“Odd, isn’t it?” he drawled.</p> +<p>“What is odd?”</p> +<p>“That you don’t see. But lots of people +don’t see. They’re chucked and shoved +around like men on a chess board, and +though they’re always interested they don’t +usually know what it’s all about. Just as +well too—usually.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see——”</p> +<p>He smiled mysteriously. “Did I say +that I expected you to see?” he said. +“There isn’t anything personal in this, aside +from the fact that I was trying to show you +that some one was foolish in sending you out +here alone. Some day you’ll look back on +your visit here and then you’ll understand.”</p> +<p>He got up and walked to the door, opening +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +it and standing there looking out into +the darkness. Sheila watched him, puzzled +by his mysterious manner, though not in the +least afraid of him. Several times while +he stood at the door he turned and looked at +her and presently, when a gust of wind +rushed in and Sheila shivered, he abruptly +closed the door, barred it, and strode to the +fireplace, throwing a fresh log into it. For +a time he stood silently in front of the fire, +his figure casting a long, gaunt shadow at +Sheila’s feet, his gaze on her, grim, somber +lines in his face. Presently he cleared his +throat.</p> +<p>“How old are you?” he said shortly.</p> +<p>“Twenty-two.”</p> +<p>“And you’ve lived East all your life. +Lived well, too, I suppose—plenty of +money, luxuries, happiness?”</p> +<p>He caught her nod and continued, his lips +curling a little. “Your father too, I +reckon—has he been happy?”</p> +<p>“I think so.”</p> +<p>“That’s odd.” He had spoken more to +himself than to Sheila and he looked at her +with narrowed eyes when she answered. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span></p> +<p>“What is odd? That my father should +be happy—that I should?”</p> +<p>“Odd that anyone who is happy in one +place should want to leave that place and +go to another. Maybe the place he went +to wouldn’t be just right for him. What +makes people want to move around like +that?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps you could answer that yourself,” +suggested Sheila. “I am sure that +you haven’t lived here in this part of the +country all your life.”</p> +<p>“How do you know that?” His gaze +was quizzical and mocking.</p> +<p>“I don’t know. But you haven’t.”</p> +<p>“Well,” he said, “we’ll say I haven’t. But +I wasn’t happy where I came from and I +came here looking for happiness—and something +else. That I didn’t find what I was +looking for isn’t the question—mostly none +of us find the things we’re looking for. But +if I had been happy where I was I wouldn’t +have come here. You say your father has +been happy there; that he’s got plenty of +money and all that. Then why should he +want to live here?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></p> +<p>“I believe I told you that he is coming +here for his health.”</p> +<p>His eyes lighted savagely. But Sheila +did not catch their expression for at that +moment she was looking at his shadow on +the floor. How long, how grotesque, it +seemed, and forbidding—like its owner.</p> +<p>“So he’s got everything he wants but his +health. What made him lose that?”</p> +<p>“How should I know?”</p> +<p>“Just lost it, I reckon,” said Dakota +subtly. “Cares and Worry?”</p> +<p>“I presume. His health has been failing +for about ten years.”</p> +<p>Sheila was looking straight at Dakota +now and she saw his face whiten, his lips +harden. And when he spoke again there +was a chill in his voice and a distinct pause +between his words.</p> +<p>“Ten years,” he said. “That’s a long +time, isn’t it? A long time for a man who +has been losing his health. And yet——” +There was a mirthless smile on Dakota’s +face—“ten years is a longer time for a man +in good health who hasn’t been happy. +Couldn’t your father have doctored—gone +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +abroad—to recover his health? Or was his +a mental sickness?”</p> +<p>“Mental, I think. He worried quite a +little.”</p> +<p>Dakota turned from her, but not quickly +enough to conceal the light of savage joy +that flashed suddenly into his eyes.</p> +<p>“Why!” exclaimed Sheila, voicing her +surprise at the startling change in his manner; +“that seems to please you!”</p> +<p>“It does.” He laughed oddly. “It +pleases me to find that I’m to have a neighbor +who is afflicted with the sort of sickness +that has been bothering me for—for a good +many years.”</p> +<p>There was a silence, during which Sheila +yawned and Dakota stood motionless, looking +straight ahead.</p> +<p>“You like your father, I reckon?” came +his voice presently, as his gaze went to her +again.</p> +<p>“Of course.” She looked up at him in +surprise. “Why shouldn’t I like him?”</p> +<p>“Of course you like him. Mostly children +like their fathers.”</p> +<p>“Children!” She glared scornfully at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +him. “I am twenty-two! I told you that +before!”</p> +<p>“So you did,” he returned, unruffled. +“When is he coming out here?”</p> +<p>“In a month—a month from to-day.” +She regarded him with a sudden, new interest. +“You are betraying a great deal of +curiosity,” she accused. “Why?”</p> +<p>“Why,” he answered slowly, “I reckon +that isn’t odd, is it? He’s going to be my +neighbor, isn’t he?”</p> +<p>“Oh!” she said with emphasis of mockery +which equalled his. “And you are gossiping +about your neighbor even before he +comes.”</p> +<p>“Like a woman,” he said with a smile.</p> +<p>“An impertinent one,” she retorted.</p> +<p>“Your father,” he said in accents of sarcasm, +ignoring the jibe, “seems to think a +heap of you—sending you all the way out +here alone.”</p> +<p>“I came against his wish; he wanted me +to wait and come with him.”</p> +<p>Her defense of her parent seemed to +amuse him. He smiled mysteriously. +“Then he likes you?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span></p> +<p>“Is that strange? He hasn’t any one +else—no relative. I am the only one.”</p> +<p>“You’re the only one.” He repeated +her words slowly, regarding her narrowly. +“And he likes you. I reckon he’d be hurt +quite a little if you had fallen in with the +sort of man I was going to tell you about.”</p> +<p>“Naturally.” Sheila was tapping with +her booted foot on his shadow on the floor +and did not look at him.</p> +<p>“It’s a curious thing,” he said slowly, after +an interval, “that a man who has got a +treasure grows careless of it in time. It’s +natural, too. But I reckon fate has something +to do with it. Ten chances to one if +nothing happens to you your father will consider +himself lucky. But suppose you had +happened to fall in with a different man +than me—we’ll say, for instance, a man who +had a grudge against your father—and that +man didn’t have that uncommon quality +called ‘mercy.’ What then? Ten chances +to one your father would say it was fate that +had led you to him.”</p> +<p>“I think,” she said scornfully, “that you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +are talking silly! In the first place, I don’t +believe my father thinks that I am a treasure, +though he likes me very much. In the +second place, if he does think that I am a +treasure, he is very much mistaken, for I am +not—I am a woman and quite able to take +care of myself. You have exhibited a wonderful +curiosity over my father and me, and +though it has all been mystifying and entertaining, +I don’t purpose to talk to you +all night.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t waken you,” he mocked.</p> +<p>Sheila swung around on the bunk, her +back to him. “You are keeping me awake,” +she retorted.</p> +<p>“Well, good night then,” he laughed, +“Miss Sheila.”</p> +<p>“Good night, Mr.—Mr. Dakota,” she returned.</p> +<p>Sheila did not hear him again. Her +thoughts dwelt for a little time on him and +his mysterious manner, then they strayed. +They returned presently and she concentrated +her attention on the rain; she could +hear the soft, steady patter of it on the roof; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +she listened to it trickling from the eaves and +striking the glass in the window above her +head. Gradually the soft patter seemed to +draw farther away, became faint, and more +faint, and finally she heard it no more.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='III_CONVERGING_TRAILS' id='III_CONVERGING_TRAILS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>CONVERGING TRAILS</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was the barking of a dog that brought +Sheila out of a sleep—dreamless this +time—into a state of semi-consciousness. +It was Dakota’s dog surely, she decided +sleepily. She sighed and twisted to a more +comfortable position. The effort awakened +her and she opened her eyes, her gaze resting +immediately on Dakota. He still sat at +the table, silent, immovable, as before. But +now he was sitting erect, his muscles tensed, +his chin thrust out aggressively, his gaze on +the door—listening. He seemed to be unaware +of Sheila’s presence; the sound that +she had made in turning he apparently had +not heard.</p> +<p>There was an interval of silence and then +came a knocking on the door—loud, unmistakable. +Some one desired admittance. +After the knock came a voice: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span></p> +<p>“Hello inside!”</p> +<p>“Hello yourself!” Dakota’s voice came +with a truculent snap. “What’s up?”</p> +<p>“Lookin’ for a dry place,” came the voice +from without. “Mebbe you don’t know it’s +wet out here!”</p> +<p>Sheila’s gaze was riveted on Dakota. He +arose and noiselessly moved his chair back +from the table and she saw a saturnine smile +on his face, yet in his eyes there shone a +glint of intolerance that mingled oddly with +his gravity.</p> +<p>“You alone?” he questioned, his gaze on +the door.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Who are you?”</p> +<p>“Campbellite preacher.”</p> +<p>For the first time since she had been +awake Dakota turned and looked at Sheila. +The expression of his face puzzled her. “A +parson!” he sneered in a low voice. “I +reckon we’ll have some praying now.” He +took a step forward, hesitated, and looked +back at Sheila. “Do you want him in +here?”</p> +<p>Sheila’s nod brought a whimsical, shallow +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +smile to his face. “Of course you do—you’re +lonesome in here.” There was +mockery in his voice. He deliberately +drew out his two guns, examined them minutely, +returned one to his holster, retaining +the other in his right hand. With a cold +grin at Sheila he snuffed out the candle between +a finger and a thumb and strode to +the door—Sheila could hear him fumbling +at the fastenings. He spoke to the man outside +sharply.</p> +<p>“Come in!”</p> +<p>There was a movement; a square of light +appeared in the wall of darkness; there +came a step on the threshold. Watching, +Sheila saw, framed in the open doorway, the +dim outlines of a figure—a man.</p> +<p>“Stand right there,” came Dakota’s voice +from somewhere in the impenetrable darkness +of the interior, and Sheila wondered at +the hospitality that greeted a stranger with +total darkness and a revolver. “Light a +match.”</p> +<p>After a short interval of silence there +came the sound of a match scratching on +the wall, and a light flared up, showing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +Sheila the face of a man of sixty, bronzed, +bearded, with gentle, quizzical eyes.</p> +<p>The light died down, the man waited. +Sheila had forgotten—in her desire to see +the face of the visitor—to look for Dakota, +but presently she heard his voice:</p> +<p>“I reckon you’re a parson, all right. +Close the door.”</p> +<p>The parson obeyed the command. “Light +the candle on the table!” came the order +from Dakota. “I’m not taking any +chances until I get a better look at you.”</p> +<p>Another match flared up and the parson +advanced to the table and lighted the candle. +He smiled while applying the match to the +wick. “Don’t pay to take no chances—on +anything,” he agreed. He stood erect, a +tall man, rugged and active for his sixty +years, and threw off a rain-soaked tarpaulin. +Some traces of dampness were visible +on his clothing, but in the circumstances he +had not fared so badly.</p> +<p>“It’s a new trail to me—I don’t know the +country,” he went on. “If I hadn’t seen +your light I reckon I’d have been goin’ yet. +I was thinkin’ that it was mighty queer that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +you’d have a light goin’ so——” He +stopped short, seeing Sheila sitting on the +bunk. “Shucks, ma’am,” he apologized, +“I didn’t know you were there.” His hat +came off and dangled in his left hand; with +the other he brushed back the hair from his +forehead, smiling meanwhile at Sheila.</p> +<p>“Why, ma’am,” he said apologetically, +“if your husband had told me you was here +I’d have gone right on an’ not bothered +you.”</p> +<p>Sheila’s gaze went from the parson’s face +and sought Dakota’s, a crimson flood +spreading over her face and temples. A +slow, amused gleam filled Dakota’s eyes. +But plainly he did not intend to set the parson +right—he was enjoying Sheila’s confusion. +The color fled from her face as suddenly +as it had come and was succeeded by +the pallor of a cold indignation.</p> +<p>“I’m not married,” she said instantly to +the parson; “this gentleman is not my husband.”</p> +<p>“Not?” questioned the parson. “Then +how—” He hesitated and looked quickly +at Dakota, but the latter was watching +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +Sheila with an odd smile and the parson +looked puzzled.</p> +<p>“This is my first day in this country,” +explained Sheila.</p> +<p>The parson did not reply to this, though +he continued to watch her intently. She +met his gaze steadily and he smiled. “I +reckon you’ve been caught on the trail too,” +he said, “by the storm.”</p> +<p>Sheila nodded.</p> +<p>“Well, it’s been right wet to-night, an’ it +ain’t no night to be galivantin’ around the +country. Where you goin’ to?”</p> +<p>“To the Double R ranch.”</p> +<p>“Where’s the Double R?” asked the parson.</p> +<p>“West,” Dakota answered for Sheila; +“twenty miles.”</p> +<p>“Off my trail,” said the parson. “I’m +travelin’ to Lazette.” He laughed, shortly. +“I’m askin’ your pardon, ma’am, for takin’ +you to be married; you don’t look like you +belonged here—I ought to have knowed +that right off.”</p> +<p>Sheila told him that he was forgiven and +he had no comment to make on this, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +looked at her appraisingly. He drew a +bench up near the fire and sat looking at +the licking flames, the heat drawing the +steam from his clothing as the latter dried. +Dakota supplied him with soda biscuit and +cold bacon, and these he munched in contentment, +talking meanwhile of his travels. Several +times while he sat before the fire Dakota +spoke to him, and finally he pulled his +chair over near the wall opposite the bunk +on which Sheila sat, tilted it back, and +dropped into it, stretching out comfortably.</p> +<p>After seating himself, Dakota’s gaze +sought Sheila. It was evident to Sheila that +he was thinking pleasant thoughts, for several +times she looked quickly at him to catch +him smiling. Once she met his gaze fairly +and was certain that she saw a crafty, calculating +gleam in his eyes. She was puzzled, +though there was nothing of fear from Dakota +now; the presence of the parson in the +cabin assured her of safety.</p> +<p>A half hour dragged by. The parson +did not appear to be sleepy. Sheila glanced +at her watch and saw that it was midnight. +She wondered much at the parson’s wakefulness +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +and her own weariness. But she +could safely go to sleep now, she told herself, +and she stretched noiselessly out on the +bunk and with one arm bent under her head +listened to the parson.</p> +<p>Evidently the parson was itinerant; he +spoke of many places—Wyoming, Colorado, +Nevada, Arizona, Texas; of towns in +New Mexico. To Sheila, her senses dulled +by the drowsiness that was stealing over her, +it appeared that the parson was a foe to +Science. His volubility filled the cabin; he +contended sonorously that the earth was not +round. The Scriptures, he maintained, +held otherwise. He called Dakota’s attention +to the seventh chapter of Revelation, +verse one:</p> +<p>“And after these things I saw four angels +standing on the four corners of the +earth, holding the four winds of the earth, +that the wind should not blow on the earth, +nor on the sea, nor on any tree.”</p> +<p>Several times Sheila heard Dakota laugh, +mockingly; he was skeptical, caustic even, +and he took issue with the parson. Between +them they managed to prevent her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +falling asleep; kept her in a semidoze which +was very near to complete wakefulness.</p> +<p>After a time, though, the argument grew +monotonous; the droning of their voices +seemed gradually to grow distant; Sheila +lost interest in the conversation and sank +deeper into her doze. How long she had +been unconscious of them she did not know, +but presently she was awake again and listening. +Dakota’s laugh had awakened her. +Out of the corners of her eyes she saw that +he was still seated in the chair beside the +wall and that his eyes were alight with interest +as he watched the parson.</p> +<p>“So you’re going to Lazette, taking it on +to him?”</p> +<p>The parson nodded, smiling. “When a +man wants to get married he’ll not care +much about the arrangements—how it gets +done. What he wants to do is to get married.”</p> +<p>“That’s a queer angle,” Dakota observed. +He laughed immoderately.</p> +<p>The parson laughed with him. It <i>was</i> an +odd situation, he agreed. Never, in all his +experience, had he heard of anything like it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span></p> +<p>He had stopped for a few hours at Dry +Bottom. While there a rider had passed +through, carrying word that a certain man +in Lazette, called “Baldy,” desired to get +married. There was no minister in Lazette, +not even a justice of the peace. But Baldy +wanted to be married, and his bride-to-be +objected to making the trip to Dry Bottom, +where there were both a parson and a justice +of the peace. Therefore, failing to induce +the lady to go to the parson, it followed that +Baldy must contrive to have the parson +come to the lady. He dispatched the rider +to Dry Bottom on this quest.</p> +<p>The rider had found that there was no +regular parson in Dry Bottom and that the +justice of the peace had departed the day +before to some distant town for a visit. +Luckily for Baldy’s matrimonial plans, the +parson had been in Dry Bottom when the +rider arrived, and he readily consented—as +he intended to pass through Lazette anyway—to +carry Baldy’s license to him and perform +the ceremony.</p> +<p>“Odd, ain’t it?” remarked the parson, +after he had concluded. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span></p> +<p>“That’s a queer angle,” repeated Dakota. +“You got the license?” he inquired softly. +“Mebbe you’ve lost it.”</p> +<p>“I reckon not.” The parson fumbled in +a pocket, drawing out a folded paper. “I’ve +got it, right enough.”</p> +<p>“You’ve got no objections to me looking +at it?” came Dakota’s voice. Sheila saw +him rise. There was a strange smile on his +face.</p> +<p>“No objections. I reckon you’ll be usin’ +one yourself one of these days.”</p> +<p>“One of these days,” echoed Dakota with +a laugh as strange as his smile a moment before. +“Yes—I’m thinking of using one +one of these days.”</p> +<p>The parson spread the paper out on the +table. Together he and Dakota bent their +heads over it. After reading the license Dakota +stood erect. He laughed, looking at +the parson.</p> +<p>“There ain’t a name on it,” he said, “not +a name.”</p> +<p>“They’re reckonin’ to fill in the names +when they’re married,” explained the parson. +“That there rider ought to have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +knowed the names, but he didn’t. Only +knowed that the man was called ‘Baldy.’ +Didn’t know the bride’s name at all. But it +don’t make any difference; they wouldn’t +have had to have a license at all in this Territory. +But it makes it look more regular +when they’ve got one. All that’s got to be +done is for Baldy to go over to Dry Bottom +an’ have the names recorded. Bein’ as I +can’t go, I’m to certify in the license.”</p> +<p>“Sure,” said Dakota slowly. “It makes +things more regular to have a license—more +regular to have you certify.”</p> +<p>Looking at Dakota, Sheila thought she +saw in his face a certain preoccupation; he +was evidently not thinking of what he was +saying at all; the words had come involuntarily, +automatically almost, it seemed, so +inexpressive were they. “Sure,” he repeated, +“you’re to certify, in the license.”</p> +<p>It was as though he were reading aloud +from a printed page, his thoughts elsewhere, +and seeing only the words and uttering them +unconsciously. Some idea had formed in his +brain, he meditated some surprising action. +That she was concerned in his thoughts +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +Sheila did not doubt, for he presently turned +and looked straight at her and in his eyes she +saw a new expression—a cold, designing +gleam that frightened her.</p> +<p>Five minutes later, when the parson announced +his intention to care for his horse +before retiring and stood in the doorway +preparatory to going out, Sheila restrained +an impulse to call to him to remain. She +succeeded in quieting her fears, however, by +assuring herself that nothing could happen +now, with the parson so near. Thus fortified, +she smiled at Dakota as the parson +stepped down and closed the door.</p> +<p>She drew a startled breath in the next instant, +though, for without noticing her smile +Dakota stepped to the door and barred it. +Turning, he stood with his back against it, +his lips in straight, hard lines, his eyes steady +and gleaming brightly.</p> +<p>He caught Sheila’s gaze and held it; she +trembled and sat erect.</p> +<p>“It’s odd, ain’t it?” he said, in the mocking +voice that he had used when using the +same words earlier in the evening.</p> +<p>“What is odd?” Hers was the same +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +answer that she had used before, too—she +could think of nothing else to say.</p> +<p>“Odd that he should come along just at +this time.” He indicated the door through +which the parson had disappeared. “You +and me are here, and he comes. Who sent +him?”</p> +<p>“Chance, I suppose,” Sheila answered, +though she could feel that there was a subtle +undercurrent in his speech, and she felt +again the strange unrest that had affected +her several times before.</p> +<p>“You think it was chance,” he said, drawling +his words. “Well, maybe that’s just as +good a name for it as any other. But we +don’t all see things the same way, do we? +We couldn’t, of course, because we’ve all +got different things to do. We think this is +a big world and that we play a big game. +But it’s a little world and a little game when +Fate takes a hand in it. I told you a while +ago that Fate had a queer way of shuffling +us around. That’s a fact. And Fate is +running this game.” His mocking laugh +had a note of grimness in it, which brought +a chill over Sheila. “Just now, Miss +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +Sheila, Fate is playing with brides and +bridegrooms and marriages and parsons. +That’s what is so odd. Fate has supplied +the parson and the license; we’ll supply the +names. Look at the bridegroom, Sheila,” +he directed, tapping his breast with a finger; +“this is your wedding day!”</p> +<p>“What do you mean?” Sheila was on her +feet, trembling, her face white with fear and +dread.</p> +<p>“That we’re to be married,” he said, smiling +at her, and she noted with a qualm that +there was no mirth in the smile, “you and +me. The parson will tie the knot.”</p> +<p>“This is a joke, I suppose?” she said +scornfully, attempting a lightness that she +did not feel; “a crude one, to be sure, for +you certainly cannot be serious.”</p> +<p>“I was never more serious in my life,” +he said slowly. “We are to be married +when the parson comes in.”</p> +<p>“How do you purpose to accomplish +this?” she jeered. “The parson certainly +will not perform a marriage ceremony without +the consent of—without my consent.”</p> +<p>“I think,” he said coldly, “that you will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +consent. I am not in a trifling mood. Just +now it pleases me to imagine that I am an +instrument of Fate. Maybe that sounds +mysterious to you, but some day you will be +able to see just how logical it all seems to me +now, that Fate has sent me a pawn—a subject, +if you please—to sacrifice, that the +game which I have been playing may be carried +to its conclusion.”</p> +<p>Outside they heard the dog bark, heard +the parson speak to it.</p> +<p>“The parson is coming,” said Sheila, her +joy over the impending interruption showing +in her eyes.</p> +<p>“Yes, he is coming.” Still with his back +to the door, Dakota deliberately drew out +one of his heavy pistols and examined it minutely, +paying no attention to Sheila. Her +eyes widened with fear as the hand holding +the weapon dropped to his side and he +looked at her again.</p> +<p>“What are you doing to do?” she demanded, +watching these forbidding preparations +with dilated eyes.</p> +<p>“That depends,” he returned with a +chilling laugh. “Have you ever seen a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +man die? No?” he continued as she shuddered. +“Well, if you don’t consent to +marry me you will see the parson die. I +have decided to give you the choice, ma’am,” +he went on in a quiet, determined voice, entirely +free from emotion. “Sacrifice yourself +and the parson lives; refuse and I shoot +the parson down the instant he steps inside +the door.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” she cried in horror, taking a step +toward him and looking into his eyes for evidence +of insincerity—for the slightest sign +that would tell her that he was merely trying +to scare her. “Oh! you—you coward!” +she cried, for she saw nothing in his eyes but +cold resolution.</p> +<p>He smiled with straight lips. “You +see,” he mocked, “how odd it is? Fate is +shuffling us three in this game. You have +your choice. Do you care to be responsible +for the death of a fellow being?”</p> +<p>For a tense instant she looked at him, +and seeing the hard, inexorable glitter in his +eyes she cringed away from him and sank to +the edge of the bunk, covering her face with +her hands. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span></p> +<p>During the silence that followed she +could hear the parson outside—his voice, and +the yelping of the dog—evidently they had +formed a friendship. The sounds came +nearer; Sheila heard the parson try the door. +She became aware that Dakota was standing +over her and she looked up, shivering, +to see his face, still hard and unyielding.</p> +<p>“I am going to open the door,” he said. +“Is it you or the parson?”</p> +<p>At that word she was on her feet, standing +before him, rigid with anger, her eyes +flaming with scorn and hatred.</p> +<p>“You wouldn’t dare to do it!” she said +hoarsely; “you—you——” She snatched +suddenly for the butt of the weapon that +swung at his left hip, but with a quick motion +he evaded the hand and stepped back +a pace, smiling coldly.</p> +<p>“I reckon it’s the parson,” he said in a +low voice, which carried an air of finality. +He started for the door, hesitated, and came +back to the bunk, standing in front of Sheila, +looking down into her eyes.</p> +<p>“I am giving you one last chance,” he +told her. “I am going to open the door. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +If you want the parson to die, don’t look at +me when he steps in. If you want him to +live, turn your back to him and walk to the +fireplace.”</p> +<p>He walked to the door, unlocked it, and +stepped back, his gaze on Sheila. Then the +door opened slowly and the parson stood on +the threshold, smiling.</p> +<p>“It’s sure some wet outside,” he said.</p> +<p>Dakota was fingering the cylinder of his +revolver, his gaze now riveted on the parson.</p> +<p>“Why,” said the latter, in surprise, seeing +the attitudes of Dakota and his guest, +“what in the name of——”</p> +<p>There came a movement, and Sheila stood +in front of Dakota, between him and the +parson. For an instant she stood, looking +at Dakota with a scornful, loathing gaze. +Then with a dry sob, which caught in her +throat, she moved past him and went to the +fireplace, where she stood looking down at +the flames.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IV_THIS_PICTURE_AND_THAT' id='IV_THIS_PICTURE_AND_THAT'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>THIS PICTURE AND THAT</h3> +</div> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>It</span> was a scene of wild, virgin beauty +upon which Sheila Langford looked as +she sat on the edge of a grassy butte +overlooking the Ute River, with Duncan, +the Double R manager stretched out, full +length beside her, a gigantic picture on Nature’s +canvas, glowing with colors which the +gods had spread with a generous touch.</p> +<p>A hundred feet below Sheila and Duncan +the waters of the river swept around the +base of the butte, racing over a rocky bed +toward a deep, narrow canyon farther down. +Directly opposite the butte rose a short +slope, forming the other bank of the river. +From the crest of the slope began a plain +that stretched for many miles, merging at +the horizon into some pine-clad foothills. +Behind the foothills were the mountains, +their snow peaks shimmering in a white +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +sky—remote, mysterious, seeming like guardians +of another world. The chill of the +mountains contrasted sharply with the slumberous +luxuriance and color of the plains.</p> +<p>Miles of grass, its green but slightly +dulled with a thin covering of alkali dust, +spread over the plain; here and there a grove +of trees rose, it seemed, to break the monotony +of space. To the right the river doubled +sharply, the farther bank fringed with alder +and aspen, their tall stalks nodding above +the nondescript river weeds; the near bank a +continuing wall of painted buttes—red, picturesque, +ragged, thrusting upward and outward +over the waters of the river. On the +left was a stretch of broken country. Mammoth +boulders were strewn here; weird rocks +arose in inconceivably grotesque formations; +lava beds, dull and gray, circled the bald +knobs of some low hills. Above it all swam +the sun, filling the world with a clear, white +light. It made a picture whose beauty +might have impressed the most unresponsive. +Yet, though Sheila was looking upon +the picture, her thoughts were dwelling upon +another. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span></p> +<p>This other picture was not so beautiful, +and a vague unrest gripped Sheila’s heart +as she reviewed it, carefully going over each +gloomy detail. It was framed in the rain +and the darkness of a yesterday. There +was a small clearing there—a clearing in a +dense wood beside a river—the same river +which she could have seen below her now, +had she looked. In the foreground was a +cabin. She entered the cabin and stood beside +a table upon which burned a candle. +A man stood beside the table also—a reckless-eyed +man, holding a heavy revolver. +Another man stood there, too—a man of +God. While Sheila watched the man’s lips +opened; she could hear the words that came +through them—she would never forget them:</p> +<p>“To have and to hold from this day forth ... till +death do you part....”</p> +<p>It was not a dream, it was the picture +of an actual occurrence. She saw every detail +of it. She could hear her own protests, +her threats, her pleadings; she lived over +again her terror as she had crouched in the +bunk until the dawn.</p> +<p>The man had not molested her, had not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +even spoken to her after the ceremony; had +ignored her entirely. When the dawn came +she had heard him talking to the parson, but +could not catch their words. Later she had +mounted her pony and had ridden away +through the sunshine of the morning. She +had been married—it was her wedding day.</p> +<p>When she had reached the crest of a long +rise after her departure from the cabin she +had halted her pony to look back, hoping +that it all might have been a dream. But it +had not been a dream. There was the dense +wood, the clearing, and the cabin. Beside +them was the river. And there, riding +slowly away over the narrow trail which she +had traveled the night before, was the parson—she +could see his gray beard in the +white sunlight. Dry eyed, she had turned +from the scene. A little later, turning +again, she saw the parson fade into the horizon. +That, she knew, was the last she +would ever see of him. He had gone out +of her life forever—the desert had swallowed +him up.</p> +<p>But the picture was still vivid; she had +seen it during every waking moment of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +month that she had been at the Double R +ranch; it was before her every night in her +dreams. It would not fade.</p> +<p>She knew that the other picture was beautiful—the +picture of this world into which +she had ridden so confidently, yet she was +afraid to dwell upon it for fear that its +beauty would seem to mock her. For had +not nature conspired against her? Yet she +knew that she alone was to blame—she, obstinate, +willful, heedless. Had not her +father warned her? “Wait,” he had said, +and the words flamed before her eyes—“wait +until I go. Wait a month. The +West is a new country; anything, everything, +can happen to you out there—alone.”</p> +<p>“Nothing can happen,” had been her +reply. “I will go straight from Lazette +to the Double R. See that you telegraph +instructions to Duncan to meet me. It will +be a change; I am tired of the East and impatient +to be away from it.”</p> +<p>Well, she had found a change. What +would her father say when he heard of it—of +her marriage to a cowboy, an unprincipled +scoundrel? What could he say? The marriage +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +could be annulled, of course! it was +not legal, could not be legal. No law could +be drawn which would recognize a marriage +of that character, and she knew that she had +only to tell her father to have the machinery +of the law set in motion. Could she tell +him? Could she bear his reproaches, his +pity, after her heedlessness?</p> +<p>What would her friends say when they +heard of it—as they must hear if she went +to the law for redress? Her friends in the +East whose good wishes, whose respect, she +desired? Mockers there would be among +them, she was certain; there were mockers +everywhere, and she feared their taunts, the +shafts of sarcasm that would be launched at +her—aye, that would strike her—when they +heard that she had passed a night in a lone +cabin with a strange cowboy—had been married +to him!</p> +<p>A month had passed since the afternoon +on which she had ridden up to the porch of +the Double R ranchhouse to be greeted by +Duncan with the information that he had +that morning received a telegram from her +father announcing her coming. It had been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +brought from Lazette by a puncher who had +gone there for the mail, and Duncan was at +that moment preparing to drive to Lazette +to meet her, under the impression that she +would arrive that day. There had been a +mistake, of course, but what did it matter +now? The damage had been wrought and +she closed her lips. A month had passed +and she had not told—she would never tell.</p> +<p>Conversations she had had with Duncan; +he seemed a gentleman, living at the Double +R ranchhouse with his sister, but in no conversation +with anyone had Sheila even mentioned +Dakota’s name, fearing that something +in her manner might betray her secret. +To everyone but herself the picture of her +adventure that night on the trail must remain +invisible.</p> +<p>She looked furtively at Duncan, stretched +out beside her on the grass. What would he +say if he knew? He would not be pleased, +she was certain, for during the month that +she had been at the Double R—riding out +almost daily with him—he had forced her +to see that he had taken a liking to her—more, +she herself had observed the telltale +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +signs of something deeper than mere liking.</p> +<p>She had not encouraged this, of course, +for she was not certain that she liked Duncan, +though he had treated her well—almost +too well, in fact, for she had at times felt a +certain reluctance in accepting his little attentions—such +personal service as kept him +almost constantly at her side. His manner, +too, was ingratiating; he smiled too much +to suit her; his presumption of proprietorship +over her irritated her not a little.</p> +<p>As she sat beside him on the grass she +found herself studying him, as she had done +many times when he had not been conscious +of her gaze.</p> +<p>He was thirty-two,—he had told her so +himself in a burst of confidence—though she +believed him to be much older. The sprinkling +of gray hair at his temples had caused +her to place his age at thirty-seven or eight. +Besides, there were the lines of his face—the +set lines of character—indicating established +habits of thought which would not +show so deeply in a younger face. His +mouth, she thought, was a trifle weak, yet +not exactly weak either, but full-lipped and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +sensual, with little curves at the corners +which, she was sure, indicated either vindictiveness +or cruelty, perhaps both.</p> +<p>Taken altogether his was not a face to +trust fully; its owner might be too easily +guided by selfish considerations. Duncan +liked to talk about himself; he had been talking +about himself all the time that Sheila +had sat beside him reviewing the mental +picture. But apparently he had about exhausted +that subject now, and presently he +looked up at her, his eyes narrowing quizzically.</p> +<p>“You have been here a month now,” he +said. “How do you like the country?”</p> +<p>“I like it,” she returned.</p> +<p>She was looking now at the other picture, +watching the shimmer of the sun on the distant +mountain peaks.</p> +<p>“It improves,” he said, “on acquaintance—like +the people.” He flashed a smile +at her, showing his teeth.</p> +<p>“I haven’t seen very many people,” she +returned, not looking at him, but determined +to ignore the personal allusion, to which, +plainly, he had meant to guide her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span></p> +<p>“But those that you have seen?” he persisted.</p> +<p>“I have formed no opinions.”</p> +<p>She <i>had</i> formed an opinion, though, a +conclusive one—concerning Dakota. But +she had no idea of communicating it to Duncan. +Until now, strangely enough, she had +had no curiosity concerning him. Bitter +hatred and resentment had been so active in +her brain that the latter had held no place +for curiosity. Or at least, if it had been +there, it had been a subconscious emotion, +entirely overshadowed by bitterness. Of +late, though her resentment toward Dakota +had not abated, she had been able to review +the incident of her marriage to him with +more composure, and therefore a growing +curiosity toward the man seemed perfectly +justifiable. Curiosity moved her now as she +smiled deliberately at Duncan.</p> +<p>“I have seen no one except your sister, +a few cowboys, and yourself. I haven’t paid +much attention to the cowboys, I like your +sister, and I am not in the habit of telling +people to their faces what I think of them. +The country does not appear to be densely +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +populated. Are there no other ranches +around here—no other cattlemen?”</p> +<p>“The Double R ranch covers an area of +one hundred and sixty square miles,” said +Duncan. “The ranchhouse is right near +the center of it. For about twenty miles in +every direction you won’t find anybody but +Double R men. There are line-camps, of +course—dugouts where the men hang out +over night sometimes—but that’s all. To +my knowledge there are only two men with +shacks around here, and they’re mostly of +no account. One of them is Doubler—Ben +Doubler—who hangs out near Two Forks, +and the other is a fellow who calls himself +Dakota, who’s got a shack about twenty +miles down the Ute, a little off the Lazette +trail.”</p> +<p>“They are ranchers, I suppose?”</p> +<p>Sheila’s face was averted so that Duncan +might not see the interest in her eyes, or +the red which had suddenly come into her +cheeks.</p> +<p>“Ranchers?” There was a sneer in Duncan’s +laugh. “Well, you might call them +that. But they’re only nesters. They’ve +got a few head of cattle and a brand. It’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +likely they’ve put their brands on quite a +few of the Double R cattle.”</p> +<p>“You mean——” began Sheila in a low +voice.</p> +<p>“I mean that I think they’re rustlers—cattle +thieves!” said Duncan venomously.</p> +<p>The flush had gone from Sheila’s cheeks; +she turned a pale face to the Double R manager.</p> +<p>“How long have these men lived in the +vicinity of the Double R?”</p> +<p>“Doubler has been hanging around here +for seven or eight years. He was here when +I came and mebbe he’s been here longer. +Dakota’s been here about five years. He +bought his brand—the Star—from another +nester—Texas Blanca.”</p> +<p>“They’ve been stealing the Double R +cattle, you say?” questioned Sheila.</p> +<p>“That’s what I think.”</p> +<p>“Why don’t you have them arrested?”</p> +<p>Duncan laughed mockingly. “Arrested! +That’s good. You’ve been living where +there’s law. But there’s no law out here; +no law to cover cattle stealing, except our +own. And then we’ve got to have the goods. +The sheriff won’t do anything when cattle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +are stolen, but he acts mighty sudden when +a man’s hung for stealing cattle, if the man +ain’t caught with the goods.”</p> +<p>“Caught with the goods?”</p> +<p>“Caught in the act of stealing. If we +catch a man with the goods and hang him +there ain’t usually anything said.”</p> +<p>“And you haven’t been able to catch +these men, Dakota and Doubler, in the act +of stealing.”</p> +<p>“They’re too foxy.”</p> +<p>“If I were manager of this ranch and +suspected anyone of stealing any of its cattle, +I would catch them!” There was a note +of angry impatience in Sheila’s voice which +caused Duncan to look sharply at her. He +reddened, suspecting disparagement of his +managerial ability in the speech.</p> +<p>“Mebbe,” he said, with an attempt at +lightness. “But as a general thing nosing +out a rustler is a pretty ticklish proposition. +Nobody goes about that work with a whole +lot of enthusiasm.”</p> +<p>“Why?” There was scorn in Sheila’s +voice, scorn in her uplifted chin. But she +did not look at Duncan. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span></p> +<p>“Why?” he repeated. “Well, because +it’s perfectly natural for a man to want to +live as long as he can. I don’t like them +nesters—Dakota especially—and I’d like +mighty well to get something on them. But +I ain’t taking any chances on Dakota.”</p> +<p>“Why?” Again the monosyllable was +pregnant with scorn.</p> +<p>“I forgot that you ain’t acquainted out +here,” laughed the manager. “No one is +taking any chances with Dakota—not even +the sheriff. There’s something about the +cuss which seems to discourage a man when +he’s close to him—close enough to do any +shooting. I’ve seen Dakota throw down on +a man so quick that it would make you +dizzy.”</p> +<p>“Throw down?”</p> +<p>“Shoot at a man. There was a gambler +over in Lazette thought to euchre Dakota. +A gunman he was, from Texas, and—well, +they carried the gambler out. It was done +so sudden that nobody saw it.”</p> +<p>“Killed him?” There was repressed +horror in Sheila’s voice.</p> +<p>“No, he wasn’t entirely put out of business. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +Dakota only made him feel cheap. +Creased him.”</p> +<p>“Creased him?”</p> +<p>“Grazed his head with the bullet. Done +it intentionally, they say. Told folks he +didn’t have any desire to send the gambler +over the divide; just wanted to show him +that when he was playin’ with fire he ought +to be careful. There ain’t no telling what +Dakota’d do if he got riled, though.”</p> +<p>Sheila’s gaze was on Duncan fairly, her +eyes alight with contempt. “So you are +all afraid of him?” she said, with a bitterness +that surprised the manager.</p> +<p>“Well, I reckon it would amount to +about that, if you come right down to the +truth,” he confessed, reddening a little.</p> +<p>“You are afraid of him, too I suppose?”</p> +<p>“I reckon it ain’t just that,” he parried, +“but I ain’t taking any foolish risks.”</p> +<p>Sheila rose and walked to her pony, which +was browsing the tops of some mesquite +near by. She reached the animal, mounted, +and then turned and looked at Duncan +scornfully.</p> +<p>“A while ago you asked for my opinion +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +of the people of this country,” she said. “I +am going to express that opinion now. It +is that, in spite of his unsavory reputation, +Dakota appears to be the only <i>man</i> here!”</p> +<p>She took up the reins and urged her pony +away from the butte and toward the level +that stretched away to the Double R buildings +in the distance. For an instant Duncan +stood looking after her, his face red with +embarrassment, and then with a puzzled +frown he mounted and followed her.</p> +<p>Later he came up with her at the Double +R corral gate and resumed the conversation.</p> +<p>“Then I reckon you ain’t got no use for +rustlers?” he said.</p> +<p>“Meaning Dakota?” she questioned, a +smoldering fire in her eyes.</p> +<p>“I reckon.”</p> +<p>“I wish,” she said, facing Duncan, her +eyes flashing, “that you would kill him!”</p> +<p>“Why——” said Duncan, changing +color.</p> +<p>But Sheila had dismounted and was walking +rapidly toward the ranchhouse, leaving +Duncan alone with his unfinished speech and +his wonder.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='V_DAKOTA_EVENS_A_SCORE' id='V_DAKOTA_EVENS_A_SCORE'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>DAKOTA EVENS A SCORE</h3> +</div> + +<p>With the thermometer at one hundred +and five it was not to be expected +that there would be much +movement in Lazette. As a matter of fact, +there was little movement anywhere. On +the plains, which began at the edge of town, +there was no movement, no life except +when a lizard, seeking a retreat from the +blistering sun, removed itself to a deeper +shade under the leaves of the sage-brush, or +a prairie-dog, popping its head above the +surface of the sand, took a lightning survey +of its surroundings, and apparently dissatisfied +with the outlook whisked back into +the bowels of the earth.</p> +<p>There was no wind, no motion; the little +whirlwinds of dust that arose settled quickly +down, the desultory breezes which had +caused them departing as mysteriously as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +they had come. In the blighting heat the +country lay, dead, spreading to the infinite +horizons; in the sky no speck floated against +the dome of blue. More desolate than a +derelict on the calm surface of the trackless +ocean Lazette lay, its huddled buildings +dingy with the dust of a continuing dry season, +squatting in their dismal lonesomeness +in the shimmering, blinding sun.</p> +<p>In a strip of shade under the eaves of +the station sat the station agent, gazing +drowsily from under the wide brim of his +hat at the two glistening lines of steel that +stretched into the interminable distance. +Some cowponies, hitched to rails in front +of the saloons and the stores, stood with +drooping heads, tormented by myriad flies; +a wagon or two, minus horses, occupied a +space in front of a blacksmith shop.</p> +<p>In the Red Dog saloon some punchers on +a holiday played cards at various tables, +quietly drinking. Behind the rough bar +Pete Moulin, the proprietor stood, talking +to his bartender, Blacky.</p> +<p>“So that jasper’s back again,” commented +the proprietor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span></p> +<p>“Which?” The bartender followed the +proprietor’s gaze, which was on a man +seated at a card table, his profile toward +them, playing cards with several other men. +The bartender’s face showed perplexity.</p> +<p>Moulin laughed. “I forgot you ain’t +been here that long,” he said. “That was +before your time. That fellow settin’ sideways +to us is Texas Blanca.”</p> +<p>“What’s he callin’ himself ‘Texas’ for?” +queried the bartender. “He looks more like +a greaser.”</p> +<p>“Breed, I reckon,” offered the proprietor. +“Claims to have punched cows in +Texas before he come here.”</p> +<p>“What’s he allowin’ to be now?”</p> +<p>“Nobody knows. Used to own the Star—Dakota’s +brand. Sold out to Dakota five +years ago. Country got too hot for him an’ +he had to pull his freight.”</p> +<p>“Rustler?”</p> +<p>“You’ve said something. He’s been suspected +of it. But nobody’s talkin’ very loud +about it.”</p> +<p>“Not safe?”</p> +<p>“Not safe. He’s lightning with a six. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +Got his nerve to come back here, though.”</p> +<p>“How’s that?”</p> +<p>“Ain’t you heard about it? I thought +everybody’d heard about that deal. Blanca +sold Dakota the Star. Then he pulled his +freight immediate. A week or so later Duncan, +of the Double R, rides up to Dakota’s +shack with a bunch of Double R boys an’ +accuses Dakota of rustlin’ Double R cattle. +Duncan had found twenty Double R calves +runnin’ with the Star cattle which had been +marked secret. Blanca had run his iron on +them an’ sold them to Dakota for Star stock. +Dakota showed Duncan his bill of sale, all +regular, an’ of course Duncan couldn’t +blame him. But there was some hard words +passed between Duncan an’ Dakota, an’ +Dakota ain’t allowin’ they’re particular +friends since.</p> +<p>“Dakota had to give up the calves, sure +enough, an’ he did. But sore! Dakota was +sure some disturbed in his mind. He didn’t +show it much, bein’ one of them quiet kind, +but he says to me one day not long after +Duncan had got the calves back: ‘I’ve +been stung, Pete,’ he says, soft an’ even like; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +‘I’ve been stung proper, by that damned +oiler. Not that I’m carin’ for the money +end of it; Duncan findin’ them calves with +my stock has damaged my reputation.’ +Then he laffed—one of them little short +laffs which he gets off sometimes when +things don’t just suit him—the way he’s +laffed a couple of times when someone’s +tried to run a cold lead proposition in on +him. He fair freezes my blood when he +gets it off.</p> +<p>“Well, he says to me: ‘Mebbe I’ll be +runnin’ in with Blanca one of these days.’ +An’ that’s all he ever says about it. Likely +he expected Blanca to come back. An’ sure +enough he has. Reckon he thinks that +mebbe Dakota didn’t get wise to the calf +deal.”</p> +<p>“In his place,” said Blacky, eyeing +Blanca furtively, “I’d be makin’ some inquiries. +Dakota ain’t no man to trifle +with.”</p> +<p>“Trifle!” Moulin’s voice was pregnant +with awed admiration. “I reckon there +ain’t no one who knows Dakota’s goin’ to +trifle with him—he’s discouraged that long +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +ago. Square, too, square as they make ’em.”</p> +<p>“The Lord knows the country needs +square men,” observed Blacky.</p> +<p>He caught a sign from a man seated +at a table and went over to him with a bottle +and a glass. While Blacky was engaged in +this task the door opened and Dakota came +in.</p> +<p>Moulin’s admiration and friendship for +Dakota might have impelled him to warn +Dakota of the presence of Blanca, and he +did hold up a covert finger, but Dakota at +that moment was looking in another direction +and did not observe the signal.</p> +<p>He continued to approach the bar and +Blacky, having a leisure moment, came forward +and stood ready to serve him. A short +nod of greeting passed between the three, +and Blacky placed a bottle on the bar and +reached for a glass. Dakota made a negative +sign with his head—short and resolute.</p> +<p>“I’m in for supplies,” he laughed, “but +not that.”</p> +<p>“Not drinkin’?” queried Moulin.</p> +<p>“I’m pure as the driven snow,” drawled +Dakota. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span></p> +<p>“How long has that been goin’ on?” +Moulin’s grin was skeptical.</p> +<p>“A month.”</p> +<p>Moulin looked searchingly at Dakota, +saw that he was in earnest, and suddenly +reached a hand over the bar.</p> +<p>“Shake!” he said. “I hate to knock my +own business, an’ you’ve been a pretty good +customer, but if you mean it, it’s the most +sensible thing you ever done. Of course you +didn’t hit it regular, but there’s been times +when I’ve thought that if I could have three +or four customers like you I’d retire in a +year an’ spend the rest of my life countin’ +my dust!” He was suddenly serious, catching +Dakota’s gaze and winking expressively.</p> +<p>“Friend of yourn here,” he said.</p> +<p>Dakota took a flashing glance at the men +at the card tables and Moulin saw his lips +straighten and harden. But in the next +instant he was smiling gravely at the proprietor.</p> +<p>“Thanks, Pete,” he said quietly. “But +you’re some reckless with the English language +when you’re calling him my friend. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +Maybe he’ll be proving that he didn’t mean +to skin me on that deal.”</p> +<p>He smiled again and then left the bar and +strode toward Blanca. The latter continued +his card playing, apparently unaware +of Dakota’s approach, but at the sound of +his former victim’s voice he turned and +looked up slowly, his face wearing a bland +smile.</p> +<p>It was plain to Moulin that Blanca had +known all along of Dakota’s presence in the +saloon—perhaps he had seen him enter. +The other card players ceased playing and +leaned back in their chairs, watching, for +some of them knew something of the calf +deal, and there was that in Dakota’s greeting +to Blanca which warned them of impending +trouble.</p> +<p>“Blanca,” said Dakota quietly, “you can +pay for those calves now.”</p> +<p>It pleased Blanca to dissemble. But it +was plain to Moulin—as it must have been +plain to everybody who watched Blanca—that +a shadow crossed his face at Dakota’s +words. Evidently he had entertained a hope +that his duplicity had not been discovered. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span></p> +<p>“Calves?” he said. “What calves, my +frien’?” He dropped his cards to the table +and turned his chair around, leaning far +back in it and hooking his right thumb in +his cartridge belt, just above the holster +of his pistol. “I theenk it mus’ be mistak’.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” returned Dakota, a slow, grimly +humorous smile reaching his face, “it was +a mistake. You made it, Blanca. Duncan +found it out. Duncan took the calves—they +belonged to him. You’re going to pay for +them.”</p> +<p>“I pay for heem?” The bland smile on +Blanca’s face had slowly faded with the realization +that his victim was not to be further +misled by him. In place of the smile his +face now wore an expression of sneering +contempt, and his black eyes had taken on +a watchful glitter. He spoke slowly: “I +pay for no calves, my frien’.”</p> +<p>“You’ll pay,” said Dakota, an ominously +quiet drawl in his voice, “or——”</p> +<p>“Or what?” Blanca showed his white +teeth in a tigerish smirk.</p> +<p>“This town ain’t big enough for both of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +us,” said Dakota, his eyes cold and alert as +they watched Blanca’s hand at his cartridge +belt. “One of us will leave it by sundown. +I reckon that’s all.”</p> +<p>He deliberately turned his back on +Blanca and walked to the door, stepping +down into the street. Blanca looked after +him, sneering. An instant later Blanca +turned and smiled at his companions at the +table.</p> +<p>“It ain’t my funeral,” said one of the +card players, “but if I was in your place +I’d begin to think that me stayin’ here was +crowdin’ the population of this town by +one.”</p> +<p>Blanca’s teeth gleamed. “My frien’,” he +said insinuatingly, “it’s your deal.” His +smile grew. “Thees is a nize country,” he +continued. “I like it ver’ much. I come +back here to stay. Dakota—hees got the +Star too cheap.” He tapped his gun holster +significantly. “To-night Dakota hees +go somewhere else. To-morrow who takes +the Star? You?” He pointed to each of +the card players in turn. “You?” he questioned. +“You take it?” He smiled at their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +negative signs. “Well, then, Blanca take +it. Peste! Dakota give himself till sundown!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>The six-o’clock was an hour and thirty +minutes late. For two hours Sheila Langford +had been on the station platform awaiting +its coming. For a full half hour she had +stood at one corner of the platform straining +her eyes to watch a thin skein of smoke +that trailed off down the horizon, but which +told her that the train was coming. It +crawled slowly—like a huge serpent—over +the wilderness of space, growing always +larger, steaming its way through the golden +sunshine of the afternoon, and after a time, +with a grinding of brakes and the shrill hiss +of escaping air, it drew alongside the station +platform.</p> +<p>A brakeman descended, the conductor +strode stiffly to the telegrapher’s window, +two trunks came out of the baggage car, +and a tall man of fifty alighted and was +folded into Sheila’s welcoming arms. For a +moment the two stood thus, while the passengers +smiled sympathetically. Then the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +man held Sheila off at arm’s length and +looked searchingly at her.</p> +<p>“Crying?” he said. “What a welcome!”</p> +<p>“Oh, daddy!” said Sheila. In this moment +she was very near to telling him what +had happened to her on the day of her +arrival at Lazette, but she felt that it was +impossible with him looking at her; she +could not at a blow cast a shadow over the +joy of his first day in the country where, +henceforth, he was to make his home. And +so she stood sobbing softly on his shoulder +while he, aware of his inability to cope with +anything so mysterious as a woman’s tears, +caressed her gently and waited patiently for +her to regain her composure.</p> +<p>“Then nothing happened to you after +all,” he laughed, patting her cheeks. +“Nothing, in spite of my croaking.”</p> +<p>“Nothing,” she answered. The opportunity +was gone now; she was committed +irrevocably to her secret.</p> +<p>“You like it here? Duncan has made +himself agreeable?”</p> +<p>“It is a beautiful country, though a little +lonesome after—after Albany. I miss my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +friends, of course. But Duncan’s sister has +done her best, and I have been able to get +along.”</p> +<p>The engine bell clanged and they stood +side by side as the train pulled slowly away +from the platform. Langford solemnly +waved a farewell to it.</p> +<p>“This is the moment for which I have +been looking for months,” he said, with +what, it seemed to Sheila, was almost a sigh +of relief. He turned to her with a smile. +“I will look after the baggage,” he said, +and leaving her he approached the station +agent and together they examined the +trunks which had come out of the baggage +car.</p> +<p>Sheila watched him while he engaged in +this task. His face seemed a trifle drawn; +he had aged much during the month that +she had been separated from him. The lines +of his face had grown deeper; he seemed, +now that she saw him at a distance, to be +care-worn—tired. She had heard people +call him a hard man; she knew that business +associates had complained of what they were +pleased to call his “sharp methods”; it had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +even been hinted that his “methods” were +irregular.</p> +<p>It made no difference to her, however, +what people thought of him, or what they +said of him, he had been a kind and indulgent +parent to her and she supposed that in +business it was everybody’s business to look +sharply after their own interests. For there +were jealous people everywhere; envy stalks +rampant through the world; failure cavils at +mediocrity, mediocrity sneers at genius. +And Sheila had always considered her +father a genius, and the carping of those +over whom her father had ridden roughshod +had always sounded in her ears like +tributes.</p> +<p>As quite unconsciously we are prone to +place the interests of self above considerations +for the comfort and the convenience +of others, so Sheila had grown to judge her +father through the medium of his treatment +of her. Her own father—who had died during +her infancy—could not have treated her +better than had Langford. Since her +mother’s death some years before, Langford +had been both father and mother to her, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +her affection for him had flourished in the +sunshine of his. No matter what other +people thought, she was satisfied with him.</p> +<p>As a matter of fact David Dowd Langford +allowed no one—not even Sheila—to +look into his soul. What emotions slumbered +beneath the mask of his habitual imperturbability +no one save Langford himself +knew. During all his days he had successfully +fought against betraying his emotions +and now, at the age of fifty, there was +nothing of his character revealed in his face +except sternness. If addicted to sharp practice +in business no one would be likely to suspect +it, not even his victim. Could one have +looked steadily into his eyes one might find +there a certain gleam to warn one of trickery, +only one would not be able to look +steadily into them, for the reason that they +would not allow you. They were shifty, +crafty eyes that took one’s measure when +one least expected them to do so.</p> +<p>Over the motive which had moved her +father to retire from business while still in +his prime Sheila did not speculate. Nor had +she speculated when he had bought the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +Double R ranch and announced his intention +to spend the remainder of his days on +it. She supposed that he had grown tired +of the unceasing bustle and activity of city +life, as had she, and longed for something +different, and she had been quite as eager +as he to take up her residence here. This +had been the limit of her conjecturing.</p> +<p>He had told her when she left Albany +that he would follow her in a month. And +therefore, in a month to the day, knowing +his habit of punctuality, Sheila had come +to Lazette for him, having been driven over +from the Double R by one of the cowboys.</p> +<p>She saw the station agent now, beckoning +to the driver of the wagon, and she went +over to the edge of the station platform and +watched while the trunks were tumbled into +the wagon.</p> +<p>The driver was grumbling good naturedly +to Langford.</p> +<p>“That darned six-o’clock train is always +late,” he was saying. “It’s a quarter to +eight now an’ the sun is goin’ down. If +that train had been on time we could have +made part of the trip in the daylight.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span></p> +<p>The day had indeed gone. Sheila looked +toward the mountains and saw that great +long shadows were lengthening from their +bases; the lower half of the sun had sunk +behind a distant peak; the quiet colors of +the sunset were streaking the sky and glowing +over the plains.</p> +<p>The trunks were in; the station agent +held the horses by the bridles, quieting them; +the driver took up the reins; Sheila was +helped to the seat by her father, he jumped +in himself, and they were off down the +street, toward a dim trail that led up a +slope that began at the edge of town and +melted into space.</p> +<p>The town seemed deserted. Sheila saw a +man standing near the front door of a saloon, +his hands on his hips. He did not +appear interested in either the wagon or its +occupants; his gaze roved up and down the +street and he nervously fingered his cartridge +belt. He was a brown-skinned man, +almost olive, Sheila thought as her gaze +rested on him, attired after the manner of +the country, with leathern chaps, felt hat, +boots, spurs, neckerchief. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></p> +<p>“Why, it is sundown already!” Sheila +heard her father say. “What a sudden +change! A moment ago the light was perfect!”</p> +<p>A subconscious sense only permitted +Sheila to hear her father’s voice, for her +thoughts and eyes were just then riveted on +another man who had come out of the door +of another saloon a little way down the +street. She recognized the man as Dakota +and exclaimed sharply.</p> +<p>She felt her father turn; heard the driver +declare, “It’s comin’ off,” though she had +not the slightest idea of his meaning. Then +she realized that he had halted the horses; +saw that he had turned in his seat and was +watching something to the rear of them +intently.</p> +<p>“We’re out of range,” she heard him say, +speaking to her father.</p> +<p>“What’s wrong?” This was her father’s +voice.</p> +<p>“Dakota an’ Blanca are havin’ a run-in,” +announced the driver. “Dakota’s give +Blanca till sundown to get out of town. It’s +sundown now an’ Blanca ain’t pulled his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +freight, an’ it’s likely that hell will be a-poppin’ +sorta sudden.”</p> +<p>Sheila cowered in her seat, half afraid to +look at Dakota—who was walking slowly +toward the man who still stood in front of +the saloon—though in spite of her fears and +misgivings the fascination of the scene held +her gaze steadily on the chief actors.</p> +<p>Out of the corners of her eyes she could +see that far down the street men were congregated; +they stood in doorways, at convenient +corners, their eyes directed toward +Dakota and the other man. In the sepulchral +calm which had fallen there came to +Sheila’s ears sounds that in another time +she would not have noticed. Somewhere a +door slammed; there came to her ears the +barking of a dog, the neigh of a horse—sharply +the sounds smote the quiet atmosphere, +they seemed odd to the point of unreality.</p> +<p>However, the sounds did not long distract +her attention from the chief actors in the +scene which was being worked out in front +of her; the noises died away and she gave +her entire attention to the men. She saw +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +Dakota reach a point about thirty feet from +the man in front of the saloon—Blanca. As +Dakota continued to approach, Sheila observed +an evil smile flash suddenly to +Blanca’s face; saw a glint of metal in the +faint light; heard the crash of his revolver; +shuddered at the flame spurt. She expected +to see Dakota fall—hoped that he might. +Instead, she saw him smile—in much the +fashion in which he had smiled that night +in the cabin when he had threatened to shoot +the parson if she did not consent to marry +him. And then his hand dropped swiftly to +the butt of the pistol at his right hip.</p> +<p>Sheila’s eyes closed; she swayed and felt +her father’s arm come out and grasp her to +keep her from falling. But she was not going +to fall; she had merely closed her eyes to +blot out the scene which she could not turn +from. She held her breath in an agony of +suspense, and it seemed an age until she +heard a crashing report—and then another. +Then silence.</p> +<p>Unable longer to resist looking, Sheila +opened her eyes. She saw Dakota walk +forward and stand over Blanca, looking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +down at him, his pistol still in hand. Blanca +was face down in the dust of the street, and +as Dakota stood over him Sheila saw the +half-breed’s body move convulsively and +then become still. Dakota sheathed his +weapon and, without looking toward the +wagon in which Sheila sat, turned and +strode unconcernedly down the street. A +man came out of the door of the saloon in +front of which Blanca’s body lay, looking +down at it curiously. Other men were running +toward the spot; there were shouts, +oaths.</p> +<p>For the first time in her life Sheila had +seen a man killed—murdered—and there +came to her a recollection of Dakota’s words +that night in the cabin: “Have you ever +seen a man die?” She had surmised from +his manner that night that he would not +hesitate to kill the parson, and now she knew +that her sacrifice had not been made in vain. +A sob shook her, the world reeled, blurred, +and she covered her face with her hands.</p> +<p>“Oh!” she said in a strained, hoarse +voice. “Oh! The brute!”</p> +<p>“Hey!” From a great distance the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +driver’s voice seemed to come. “Hey! +What’s that? Well, mebbe. But I reckon +Blanca won’t rustle any more cattle.” +“God!” he added in an awed voice; “both +of them hit him!”</p> +<p>Blanca was dead then, there could be no +doubt of that. Sheila felt herself swaying +and tried to grasp the end of the seat to +steady herself. She heard her father’s voice +raised in alarm, felt his arm come out again +and grasp her, and then darkness settled +around her.</p> +<p>When she recovered consciousness her +father’s arms were still around her and the +buckboard was in motion. Dusk had come; +above her countless stars flickered in the +deep blue of the sky.</p> +<p>“I reckon she’s plum shocked,” she heard +the driver say.</p> +<p>“I don’t wonder,” returned Langford, +and Sheila felt a shiver run over him. +“Great guns!” Sheila wondered at the +tone he used. “That man is a marvel with +a pistol! Did you notice how cool he took +it?”</p> +<p>“Cool!” The driver laughed. “If you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +get acquainted with Dakota you’ll find out +that he’s cool. He’s an iceberg, that’s what +he is!”</p> +<p>“They’ll arrest him, I suppose?” queried +Langford.</p> +<p>“Arrest him! What for? Didn’t he give +Blanca his chance? That’s why I’m tellin’ +you he’s cool!”</p> +<p>It was past two o’clock when the buckboard +pulled up at the Double R corral gates +and Langford helped Sheila down. She was +still pale and trembling and did not remain +downstairs to witness her father’s introduction +to Duncan’s sister, but went immediately +to her room. Sleep was far from her, +however, for she kept dwelling over and +over on the odd fortune which had killed +Blanca and allowed Dakota to live, when +the latter’s death would have brought to an +end the distasteful relationship which his +freakish impulse had forced upon her.</p> +<p>She remembered Dakota’s words in the +cabin. Was Fate indeed running this +game—if game it might be called?</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VI_KINDRED_SPIRITS' id='VI_KINDRED_SPIRITS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>KINDRED SPIRITS</h3> +</div> + +<p>Looking rather more rugged than +when he had arrived at the station +at Lazette two weeks before, his face +tanned, but still retaining the smooth, sleek +manner which he had brought with him from +the East, David Dowd Langford sat in a +big rocking chair on the lower gallery of +the Double R ranchhouse, mentally appraising +Duncan, who was seated near by, his +profile toward Langford.</p> +<p>“So this Ben Doubler has been a thorn +in your side?” questioned Langford softly.</p> +<p>“That’s just it,” returned Duncan, with +an evil smile. “He has been and still is. +And now I’m willing him to you. I don’t +know when I’ve been more tickled over getting +rid of a man.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said Langford, leaning farther +back in his chair and clasping his hands, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +resting his chin on his thumbs, his lips curving +with an ironic smile, “I suppose I ought +to feel extremely grateful to you—especially +since when I was negotiating the purchase +of the ranch you didn’t hint of a nester +being on the property.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t sell Doubler to you,” said Duncan.</p> +<p>Langford’s smile was shallow. “But I +get him just the same,” he said. “As a +usual thing it is pretty hard to get rid of a +nester, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“I haven’t been able to get rid of this +one,” returned Duncan. “He don’t seem +to be influenced by anything I say, or do. +Some obstinate.”</p> +<p>“Tried everything?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“The law?”</p> +<p>Duncan made a gesture of disgust. “The +law!” he said. “What for? I haven’t been +such a fool. He’s got as much right to the +open range as I have—as you will have. I +bought a section, and he took up a quarter +section. The only difference between us is +that I own mine—or did own it until you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +bought it—and he ain’t proved on his. He +is on the other side of the river and I’m on +this. Or rather,” he added with a grin, +“he’s on the other side and you are on this. +He’s got the best grass land in the country—and +plenty of water.”</p> +<p>“His rights, then,” remarked Langford +slowly, “equal yours—or mine. That is,” +he added, “he makes free use of the grass +and water.”</p> +<p>“That’s so,” agreed Duncan.</p> +<p>“Which reduces the profits of the Double +R,” pursued Langford.</p> +<p>“I reckon that’s right.”</p> +<p>“And you knew that when you sold me +the Double R,” continued Langford, his +voice smooth and silky.</p> +<p>Duncan flashed a grin at the imperturbable +face of the new owner. “I reckon I +wasn’t entirely ignorant of it,” he said.</p> +<p>“That’s bad business,” remarked Langford +in a detached manner.</p> +<p>“What is?” Duncan’s face reddened +slightly. “You mean that it was bad business +for me to sell when I knowed Doubler +owned land near the Double R?” There +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +was a slight sneer in his voice as he looked +at Langford. “You’ve never been stung +before, eh? Well, there’s always a first +time for everything, and I reckon—according +to what I’ve heard—that you ain’t been +exactly no Sunday school scholar yourself.”</p> +<p>Langford’s eyes were narrowed to slits. +“I meant that it was bad business to allow +Doubler’s presence on the Two Forks to +affect the profits of the Double R. Perhaps +I have been stung—as you call it—but if I +have been I am not complaining.”</p> +<p>Duncan’s eyes glinted with satisfaction. +He had expected a burst of anger from the +new owner when he should discover that the +value of his property was impaired by the +presence of a nester near it, but the new +owner apparently harbored no resentment +over this unforeseen obstacle.</p> +<p>“I’m admitting,” said Duncan, “that +Doubler being there is bad business. But +how are you going to prevent him staying +there?”</p> +<p>“Have you tried”—Langford looked +obliquely at Duncan, drawling significantly—“force?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></p> +<p>“I have tried everything, I told you.”</p> +<p>Duncan gazed at Langford with a new +interest. It was the first time since the new +owner had come to the Double R that he +had dropped the mask of sleek smoothness +behind which he concealed his passions. +Even now the significance was more in his +voice than in his words, and Duncan began +to comprehend that Langford was deeper +than he had thought.</p> +<p>“I’m glad to see that you appreciate the +situation,” he said, smiling craftily. “Some +men are mighty careful not to do anything +to hurt anybody else.”</p> +<p>Langford favored Duncan with a steady +gaze, which the latter returned, and both +smiled.</p> +<p>“Business,” presently said Langford +with a quiet significance which was not lost +on Duncan, “good business, demands the +application of certain methods which are not +always agreeable to the opposition.” He +took another sly glance at Duncan. “There +ought to be a good many ways of making +it plain to Doubler that he isn’t wanted in +this section of the country,” he insinuated. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span></p> +<p>“I’ve tried to make some of the ways +plain,” said Duncan with a cold grin. “I +got to the end of my string and hadn’t any +more things to try. That’s why I decided +to sell. I wanted to get away where I +wouldn’t be bothered. But I reckon that +you’ll be able to fix up something for him.”</p> +<p>During the two weeks that Langford had +been at the Double R Duncan had studied +him from many angles and this exchange of +talk had convinced him that he had not erred +in his estimate of the new owner’s character. +As he had hinted to Langford, he had tried +many plans to rid the country of the nester, +and he remembered a time when Doubler +had seen through one of his schemes to +fasten the crime of rustling on him and had +called him to account, and the recollection +of what had happened at the interview between +them was not pleasant. He had not +bothered Doubler since that time, though +there had lingered in his heart a desire for +revenge. Many times, on some pretext or +other, he had tried to induce his men to +clash with Doubler, but without success. It +had appeared to him that his men suspected +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +his motives and deliberately avoided the +nester.</p> +<p>With a secret satisfaction he had watched +Langford’s face this morning when he had +told him that Doubler had long been suspected +of rustling; that the men of the +Double R had never been able to catch him +in the act, but that the number of cattle +missing had seemed to indicate the nester’s +guilt.</p> +<p>Doubler’s land was especially desirable, +he had told Langford, and this was the +truth. It was a quarter section lying adjacent +to good water, and provided the best +grass in the vicinity. Duncan had had +trouble with Doubler over the water rights, +too, but had been unsuccessful in ousting +him because of the fact that since Doubler +controlled the land he also controlled the +water rights of the river adjoining it. The +Two Forks was the only spot which could be +used by thirsty cattle in the vicinity, for the +river at other points was bordered with cliffs +and hills and was inaccessible. And Doubler +would not allow the Double R cattle to +water at the Two Forks, though he had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +issued this edict after his trouble with the +Double R owner. Duncan, however, did not +explain this to Langford.</p> +<p>The latter looked at him with a smooth +smile. “It is plain from what you have +been telling me,” he said, “that there is no +possibility of you succeeding in reaching a +satisfactory agreement with Doubler, and +therefore I expect that I will have to deal +with him personally. I shall ride over some +day and have a talk with him.”</p> +<p>The prospect of becoming involved with +the nester gave Langford a throb of joy. +All his life he had been engaged in the task +of overcoming business obstacles and he had +reached the conclusion that the situation +which now confronted him was nothing +more or less than business. Of course it was +not the business to which he had been accustomed, +but it offered the opportunity for +cold-blooded, merciless planning for personal +gain; there were the elements of profit +and loss; it would give him an opportunity +to apply his peculiar genius, to grapple, to +battle, and finally overthrow the opposing +force. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></p> +<p>Though he had allowed Duncan to see +nothing of the emotions that rioted within +him over the discovery that he had been victimized +by the latter—at least to the extent +of misrepresentation in the matter of the +nester—there was in his mind a feeling of +deep resentment against the former owner; +he felt that he could no longer trust him, +but for the sake of learning all the details of +the new business he felt that he would have +to make the best of a bad bargain. He had +already arranged with Duncan to remain at +the Double R throughout the season, but he +purposed to leave him out of any dealings +that he might have with Doubler. He +smiled as he looked at Duncan.</p> +<p>“I like this country,” he said, leaning +back in his chair and drawing a deep breath. +“I was rather afraid at first that I would +find it dull after the East. But this situation +gives promise of action.”</p> +<p>Duncan was watching him with a crafty +smile. “You reckon on running him off, +or——” He leered at Langford significantly.</p> +<p>The latter’s face was impassive, his smile +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +dry. “Eh?” he said, abstractedly, as +though his thoughts had been wandering +from the subject. “Why, I really haven’t +given a thought to the method by which I +ought to deal with Doubler. Perhaps,” he +added with a genial smile, “I may make a +friend of him.”</p> +<p>He observed Duncan’s scowl and his smile +grew.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VII_BOGGED_DOWN' id='VII_BOGGED_DOWN'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>BOGGED DOWN</h3> +</div> + +<p>Each day during the two weeks that +her father had been at the Double R +Sheila had accompanied him on his +rides of exploration. She had grown tired +of the continued companionship, and despite +the novelty of the sight she had become decidedly +wearied of looking at the cowboys +in their native haunts. Not that they did +not appeal to her, for on the contrary she +had found them picturesque and had admired +their manliness, but she longed to ride +out alone where she could brood over her +secret. The possession of it had taken the +flavor out of the joys of this new life, had +left it flat and filled with bitter memories.</p> +<p>She had detected a change in her father—he +seemed coarse, domineering, entirely unlike +his usual self. She attributed this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +change in him to the country—it was hard +and rough, and of course it was to be expected +that Langford—or any man, for that +matter—taking an active interest in ranch +life, must reflect the spirit of the country.</p> +<p>She had developed a positive dislike for +Duncan, which she took no trouble to conceal. +She had discovered that the suspicions +she had formed of his character during +the first days of their acquaintance were +quite correct—he was selfish, narrow, and +brutal. He had accompanied her and her +father on all their trips and his manner toward +her had grown to be one of easy familiarity. +This was another reason why she +wanted to ride alone.</p> +<p>The day before she had spoken to Langford +concerning the continued presence of +Duncan on their rides, and he had laughed +at her, assuring her that Duncan was not a +“bad fellow,” and though she had not taken +issue with him on this point she had decided +that hereafter, in self protection, she would +discontinue her rides with her father as long +as he was accompanied by the former owner.</p> +<p>Determined to carry out this decision, she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +was this morning saddling her pony at the +corral gates when she observed Duncan +standing near, watching her.</p> +<p>“You might have let me throw that saddle +on,” he said.</p> +<p>She flushed, angered that he should have +been watching her without making his presence +known. “I prefer to put the saddle on +myself,” she returned, busying herself with +it after taking a flashing glance at him.</p> +<p>He laughed, pulled out a package of tobacco +and some paper, and proceeded to roll +a cigarette. When he had completed it he +held a match to it and puffed slowly.</p> +<p>“Cross this morning,” he taunted.</p> +<p>There was no reply, though Duncan +might have been warned by the dark red in +her cheeks. She continued to work with the +saddle, lacing the latigo strings and tightening +the cinches.</p> +<p>“We’re riding down to the box canyon +on the other side of the basin this morning,” +said Duncan. “We’ve got some strays +penned up there. But your dad won’t be +ready for half an hour yet. You’re in something +of a hurry, it seems.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span></p> +<p>“You are going, I suppose?” questioned +Sheila, pulling at the rear cinch, the pony +displaying a disinclination to allow it to be +buckled.</p> +<p>“I reckon.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see,” said Sheila, straightening +and facing him, “why you have to go with +father everywhere.”</p> +<p>Duncan flushed. “Your father’s aiming +to learn the business,” he said. “I’m showing +him, telling him what I know about it. +There’s a chance that I won’t be with the +Double R after the fall round-up, if a deal +which I have got on goes through.”</p> +<p>“And I suppose you have a corner on all +the knowledge of ranch life,” suggested +Sheila sarcastically.</p> +<p>He flushed darkly, but did not answer.</p> +<p>After Sheila had completed the tightening +of the cinches she led the pony beside the +corral fence, mounted, and without looking +at Duncan started to ride away.</p> +<p>“Wait!” he shouted, and she drew the +pony to a halt and sat in the saddle, looking +down at him with a contemptuous gaze as +he stood in front of her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></p> +<p>“I thought you was going with your +father?” he said.</p> +<p>“You are mistaken.” She could not repress +a smile over the expression of disappointment +on his face. But without giving +him any further satisfaction she urged her +pony forward, leaving him standing beside +the corral gates watching her with a frown.</p> +<p>She smiled many times while riding toward +the river, thinking of his discomfiture, +reveling in the thought that for once she had +shown him that she resented the attitude of +familiarity which he had adopted toward +her.</p> +<p>She sat erect in the saddle, experiencing +a feeling of elation which brought the color +into her face and brightened her eyes. It +was the first time since her arrival at the +Double R that she had been able to ride out +alone, and it was also the first time that she +really appreciated the vastness and beauty +of the country. For the trail to the river, +which she had decided she would follow, led +through a fertile country where the bunch +grass grew long and green, the barren +stretches of alkali were infrequent, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +where the low wooded hills and the shallow +gullies seemed to hint at the mystery. Before +long the depression which had made her life +miserable had fled and she was enjoying herself.</p> +<p>When she reached the river she crossed it +at a shallow and urged her pony up a sloping +bank and out upon a grass plain that +spread away like the level of a great, green +sea. Once into the plain, though, she discovered +that its promise of continuing green +was a mere illusion, for the grass grew here +in bunches, the same as it grew on the +Double R side of the river. Yet though she +was slightly disappointed she found many +things to interest her, and she lingered long +over the odd rock formations that she encountered +and spent much time peering +down into gullies and exploring sand draws +which seemed to be on every side.</p> +<p>About noon, when she became convinced +that she had seen everything worth seeing +in that section of the country, she wheeled +her pony and headed it back toward the +river. She reached it after a time and urged +her beast along its banks, searching for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +shallow which she had crossed some time before. +A dim trail led along the river and +she felt certain that if she followed it long +enough it would lead her to the crossing, but +after riding half an hour and encountering +nothing but hills and rock cliffs she began to +doubt. But she rode on for another half +hour and then, slightly disturbed over her +inability to find the shallow, she halted the +pony and looked about her.</p> +<p>The country was strange and unfamiliar +and a sudden misgiving assailed her. Had +she lost her idea of direction? She looked +up at the sun and saw that it was slightly +past the zenith on its downward path. She +smiled. Of course all she had to do was to +follow the river and in time she would come +in sight of the Double R buildings. Certain +that she had missed the shallow because of +her interest in other things, she urged her +pony about and cantered it slowly over the +back trail. A little later, seeing an arroyo +which seemed to give promise of leading to +the shallow she sought, she descended it and +found that it led to a flat and thence to the +river. The crossing seemed unfamiliar, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +yet she supposed that one crossing would do +quite as well as another, and so she smiled +and continued on toward it.</p> +<p>There was a fringe of shrubbery at the +edge of what appeared to have once been a +swamp, though now it was dry and made +fairly good footing for her pony. The animal +acted strangely, however, when she tried +to urge it through the fringing shrubbery, +and she was compelled to use her quirt vigorously.</p> +<p>Once at the water’s edge she halted the +pony and viewed the crossing with satisfaction. +She decided that it was a much better +crossing than the one she had encountered +on the trip out. It was very shallow, not +over thirty feet wide, she estimated, and +through the clear water she could easily see +the hard, sandy bottom. It puzzled her +slightly to observe that there were no wagon +tracks or hoof prints in the sand anywhere +around her, as there would be were the crossing +used ever so little. It seemed to be an +isolated section of the country though, and +perhaps the cattlemen used the crossing little—there +was even a chance that she was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +the first to discover its existence. She must +remember to ask someone about it when she +returned to the Double R.</p> +<p>She urged the pony gently with her +booted heel and voice, but the little animal +would not budge. Impatient over its obstinacy, +she again applied the quirt vigorously. +Stung to desperation the pony stood +erect for an instant, pawing the air frantically +with its fore hoofs, and then, as the +quirt continued to lash its flanks, it lunged +forward, snorting in apparent fright, made +two or three eccentric leaps, splashing water +high over Sheila’s head, and then came to a +sudden stop in the middle of the stream.</p> +<p>Sheila nibbled at her lips in vexation. +Again, convinced that the pony was merely +exhibiting obstinacy, she applied the quirt +to its flanks. The animal floundered and +struggled, but did not move out of its tracks.</p> +<p>Evidently something had gone wrong. +Sheila peered over the pony’s mane into the +water, which was still clear in spite of the +pony’s struggling, and sat suddenly erect, +stifling cry of amazement. The pony was +mired fast! Its legs, to a point just above +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +the knees, had disappeared into the river +bottom!</p> +<p>As she straightened, a chilling fear clutching +at her heart, she felt the cold water of +the river splashing against her booted legs. +And now knowledge came to her in a sudden, +sickening flood. She had ridden her +pony fairly into a bed of quicksand!</p> +<p>For some minutes she sat motionless in +the saddle, stunned and nerveless. She saw +now why there were no tracks or hoof prints +leading down into the crossing. She remembered +now that Duncan had warned her of +the presence of quicksand in the river, but +the chance of her riding into any of it had +seemed to be so remote that she had paid +very little attention to Duncan’s warning. +Much as she disliked the man she would have +given much to have him close at hand now. +If he had only followed her!</p> +<p>She was surprised at her coolness. She +realized that the situation was precarious, +for though she had never before experienced +a quicksand, she had read much of them in +books, and knew that the pony was hopelessly +mired. But it seemed that there could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +be no immediate danger, for the river bottom +looked smooth and hard; it was grayish-black, +and she was so certain that the +footing was good that she pulled her feet out +of the stirrups, swung around, and stepped +down into the water.</p> +<p>She had stepped lightly, bearing only a +little of her weight on the foot while holding +to the saddle, but the foot sank instantly +into the sand and the water darkened around +it. She tried again in another spot, putting +a little more weight on her foot this time. +She went in almost to the knee and was surprised +to find that she had to exert some little +strength to pull the foot out, there was so +great a suction.</p> +<p>With the discovery that she was really in +a dangerous predicament came a mental +panic which threatened to take the form of +hysteria. She held tightly to the pommel +of the saddle, shutting her eyes on the desolate +world around her, battling against the +great fear that rose within her and choked +her. When she opened her eyes again the +world was reeling and objects around her +were strangely blurred, but she held tightly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +to the saddle, telling herself that she must +retain her composure, and after a time she +regained the mastery over herself.</p> +<p>With the return of her mental faculties +she began to give some thought to escape. +But escape seemed to be impossible. Looking +backward toward the bank she had left, +she saw that the pony must have come fifteen +or twenty feet in the two or three +plunges it had made. She found herself +wondering how it could have succeeded in +coming that distance. Behind her the water +had become perfectly clear, and the impressions +left by the pony’s hoofs had filled up +and the river bottom looked as smooth and +inviting as it had seemed when she had urged +the pony into it.</p> +<p>In front of her was a stretch of water of +nearly the same width as that which lay behind +her. To the right and left the grayish-black +sand spread far, but only a short distance +beyond where she could discern the +sand there were rocks that stuck above the +water with little ripples around them.</p> +<p>The rocks were too far away to be of +any assistance to her, however, and her heart +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +sank when she realized that her only hope of +escape lay directly ahead.</p> +<p>She leaned over and laid her head against +the pony’s neck, smoothing and patting its +shoulders. The animal whinnied appealingly +and she stifled a sob of remorse over +her action in forcing it into the treacherous +sand, for it had sensed the danger while +obeying her blindly.</p> +<p>How long she lay with her head against +the pony’s neck she did not know, but when +she finally sat erect again she found that the +water was touching the hem of her riding +skirt and that her feet, dangling at each side +of the pony, were deep in the sand of the +river bottom. With a cry of fright she drew +them out and crossed them before her on the +pommel of the saddle. With the movement +the pony sank several inches, it seemed to +her; she saw the water suddenly flow over +its back; heard it neigh loudly, appealingly, +with a note of anguish and terror which +seemed almost human, and feeling a sudden, +responsive emotion of horror and despair, +Sheila bowed her head against the pony’s +mane and sobbed softly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span></p> +<p>They would both die, she knew—horribly. +They would presently sink beneath the surface +of the sand, the water would flow over +them and obliterate all traces of their graves, +and no one would ever know what had become +of them.</p> +<p>Some time later—it might have been five +minutes or an hour—Sheila could not have +told—she heard the pony neigh again, and +this time it seemed there was a new note in +the sound—a note of hope! She raised her +head and looked up. And there on the bank +before her, uncoiling his rope from the saddle +horn and looking very white and grim, +was Dakota!</p> +<p>Sheila sat motionless, not knowing +whether to cry or laugh, finally compromising +with the appeal, uttered with all the +composure at her command:</p> +<p>“Won’t you please get us out of here?”</p> +<p>“That’s what I am aiming to do,” he said, +and never did a voice sound sweeter in her +ears; at that moment she almost forgave him +for the great crime he had committed against +her.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +<img src='images/illus-134.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 391px; height: 573px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 391px;'> +“WON’T YOU PLEASE GET US OUT OF THIS?”<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></div> +<p>He seemed not in the least excited, continuing +to uncoil his rope and recoil it again +into larger loops. “Hold your hands over +your head!” came his command.</p> +<p>She did as she was bidden. He had not +dismounted from his pony, but had ridden +up to the very edge of the quicksand, and as +she raised her hands she saw him twirl the +rope once, watched as it sailed out, settled +down around her waist, and was drawn +tight.</p> +<p>There was now a grim smile on his face. +“You’re in for a wetting,” he said. “I’m +sorry—but it can’t be helped. Get your feet +off to one side so that you won’t get mixed +up with the saddle. And keep your head +above the water.”</p> +<p>“Ye-s,” she answered tremulously, dreading +the ordeal, dreading still more the +thought of her appearance when she would +finally reach the bank.</p> +<p>His pony was in motion instantly, pulling +strongly, following out its custom of dragging +a roped steer, and Sheila slipped off the +saddle and into the water, trying to keep her +feet under her. But she overbalanced and +fell with a splash, and in this manner was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +dragged, gasping, strangling, and dripping +wet, to the bank.</p> +<p>Dakota was off his pony long before she +had reached the solid ground and was at +her side before she had cleared the water, +helping her to her feet and loosening the +noose about her waist.</p> +<p>“Don’t, please!” she said frigidly, as his +hand touched her.</p> +<p>“Then I won’t.” He smiled and stepped +back while she fumbled with the rope and +finally threw it off. “What made you try +that shallow?” he asked.</p> +<p>“I suppose I have a right to ride where I +please?” He had saved her life, of course, +and she was very grateful to him, but that +was no reason why he should presume to +speak familiarly to her. She really believed—in +spite of the obligation under which he +had placed her—that she hated him more +than ever.</p> +<p>But he did not seem to be at all disturbed +over her manner. On the contrary, looking +at him and trying her best to be scornful, he +seemed to be laboring heroically to stifle +some emotion—amusement, she decided—and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +she tried to freeze him with an icy stare.</p> +<p>“Now, you don’t look dignified, for a +fact,” he grinned, brazenly allowing his +mirth to show in his eyes and in the sudden, +curved lines that had come around his mouth. +“Still, you couldn’t expect to look dignified, +no matter how hard you tried, after being +dragged through the water like that. Now +could you?”</p> +<p>“It isn’t the first time that I have amused +you!” she said with angry sarcasm.</p> +<p>A cloud passed over his face, but was instantly +superseded by a smile.</p> +<p>“So you haven’t forgotten?” he said.</p> +<p>She did not deign to answer, but turned +her back to him and looked at her partially +submerged pony.</p> +<p>“Want to try it again?” he said mockingly.</p> +<p>She turned slowly and looked at him, +her eyes flashing.</p> +<p>“Will you please stop being silly!” she +said coldly. “If you were human you would +be trying to get my pony out of that sand +instead of standing there and trying to be +smart!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></p> +<p>“Did you think that I was going to let +him drown?” His smile had in it a quality +of subtle mockery which made her eyes blaze +with anger. Evidently he observed it for he +smiled as he walked to his pony, coiling his +rope and hanging it from the pommel of the +saddle. “I certainly am not going to let +your horse drown,” he assured her, “for in +this country horses are sometimes more valuable +than people.”</p> +<p>“Then why didn’t you save the pony +first?” she demanded hotly.</p> +<p>“How could I,” he returned, fixing her +with an amused glance, “with you looking +so appealingly at me?”</p> +<p>She turned abruptly and left him, walking +to a flat rock and seating herself upon +it, wringing the water from her skirts, trying +to get her hair out of her eyes, feeling +very miserable, and wishing devoutly that +Dakota might drown himself—after he +had succeeded in pulling the pony from the +quicksand.</p> +<p>But Dakota did not drown himself. Nor +did he pull the pony out of the quicksand. +She watched him as he rode to the water’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +edge and looked at the animal. Her heart +sank when he turned and looked gravely at +her.</p> +<p>“I reckon your pony’s done for, ma’am,” +he said. “There isn’t anything of him above +the sand but his head and a little of his neck. +He’s too far gone, ma’am. In half an hour +he’ll——”</p> +<p>Sheila stood up, wet and excited. “Can’t +you do something?” she pleaded. “Couldn’t +you pull him out with your lariat—like you +did me?”</p> +<p>There was a grim humor in his smile. +“What do you reckon would have happened +to you if I had tried to pull you out by the +neck?” he asked.</p> +<p>“But can’t you do <i>something</i>?” she +pleaded, her icy attitude toward him melting +under the warmth of her affection and sympathy +for the unfortunate pony. “Please +do something!” she begged.</p> +<p>His face changed expression and he +tapped one of his holsters significantly. +“There’s only this left, I reckon. Pulling +him out by the neck would break it, sure. +And it’s never a nice thing to see—or hear—a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +horse or a cow sinking in quicksand. I’ve +seen it once or twice and——”</p> +<p>Sheila shuddered and covered her face +with her hands, for his words had set her imagination +to working.</p> +<p>“Oh!” she said and became silent.</p> +<p>Dakota stood for a moment, watching her, +his face grim with sympathy.</p> +<p>“It’s too bad,” he said finally. “I don’t +like to shoot him, any more than you want +to see it done. I reckon, though, that the +pony would thank me for doing it if he could +have anything to say about it.” He walked +over close to her, speaking in a low voice. +“You can’t stay here, of course. You’ll +have to take my horse, and you’ll have to go +right now, if you don’t want to be around +when the pony——”</p> +<p>“Please don’t,” she said, interrupting +him. He relapsed into silence, and stood +gravely watching her as she resumed her +toilet.</p> +<p>She disliked to accept his offer of the +pony, but there seemed to be no other way. +She certainly could not walk to the Double +R ranchhouse, even to satisfy a desire to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +show him that she would not allow him to +place her under any obligation to him.</p> +<p>“I’ve got to tell you one thing,” he said +presently, standing erect and looking earnestly +at her. “If Duncan is responsible +for your safety in this country he isn’t showing +very good judgment in letting you run +around alone. There are dangers that you +know nothing about, and you don’t know a +thing about the country. Someone ought to +take care of you.”</p> +<p>“As you did, for example,” she retorted, +filled with anger over his present solicitation +for her welfare, as contrasted to his treatment +of her on another occasion.</p> +<p>A slow red filled his cheeks. Evidently +he did possess <i>some</i> self-respect, after all. +Contrition, too, she thought she could detect +in his manner and in his voice.</p> +<p>“But I didn’t hurt you, anyway,” he said, +eyeing her steadily.</p> +<p>“Not if you call ruining a woman’s name +not ‘hurting’ her,” she answered bitterly.</p> +<p>“I am sorry for that, Miss Sheila,” he +said earnestly. “I had an idea that night—and +still have it, for that matter—that I was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +an instrument— Well, I had an idea, that’s +all. But I haven’t told anybody about what +happened—I haven’t even hinted it to anybody. +And I told the parson to get out of +the country, so he wouldn’t do any gassing +about it. And I haven’t been over to Dry +Bottom to have the marriage recorded—and +I am not going to go. So that you can have +it set aside at any time.”</p> +<p>Yes, she could have the marriage annulled, +she knew that. But the contemplation +of her release from the tie that bound +her to him did not lessen the gravity of the +offense in her eyes. She told herself that she +hated him with a remorseless passion which +would never cease until he ceased to live. +No action of his could repair the damage he +had done to her. She told him so, plainly.</p> +<p>“I didn’t know you were so blood-thirsty +as that,” he laughed in quiet mockery. +“Maybe it would be a good thing for you if +I did die—or get killed. But I’m not allowing +that I’m ready to die yet, and certainly +am not going to let anybody kill me if I can +prevent it. I reckon you’re not thinking of +doing the killing yourself?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></p> +<p>“If I told my father—” she began, but +hesitated when she saw his lips suddenly +straighten and harden and his eyes light with +a deep contempt.</p> +<p>“So you haven’t told your father?” he +laughed. “I was sure you had taken him +into your confidence by this time. But I +reckon it’s a mighty good thing that you +didn’t—for your father. Like as not if you’d +tell him he’d get some riled and come right +over to see me, yearning for my blood. And +then I’d have to shoot him up some. And +that would sure be too bad—you loving him +as you do.”</p> +<p>“I suppose you would shoot him like you +shot that poor fellow in Lazette,” she +taunted, bitterly.</p> +<p>“Like I did that poor fellow in Lazette,” +he said, with broad, ironic emphasis. “You +saw me shoot Blanca, of course, for you were +there. But you don’t know what made me +shoot him, and I am not going to tell you—it’s +none of your business.”</p> +<p>“Indeed!” Her voice was burdened +with contempt. “I suppose you take a certain +pride in your ability to murder people.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +She placed a venomous accent on the “Murder.”</p> +<p>“Lots of people ought to be murdered,” +he drawled, using the accent she had used.</p> +<p>Her contempt of him grew. “Then I +presume you have others in mind—whom +you will shoot when the mood strikes you?” +she said.</p> +<p>“Perhaps.” His smile was mysterious +and mocking, and she saw in his eyes the +reckless gleam which she had noted that +night while in the cabin with him. She shuddered +and walked to the pony—his pony.</p> +<p>“If you have quite finished I believe I +will be going,” she said, holding her chin +high and averting her face. “I will have +one of the men bring your horse to you.”</p> +<p>“I believe I have quite finished,” he returned, +mimicking her cold, precise manner +of speech.</p> +<p>She disdainfully refused his proffer of assistance +and mounted the pony. He stood +watching her with a smile, which she saw by +glancing covertly at him while pretending +to arrange the stirrup strap. When she +started to ride away without even glancing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +at him, she heard his voice, with its absurd, +hateful drawl:</p> +<p>“And she didn’t even thank me,” he said +with mock bitterness and disappointment.</p> +<p>She turned and made a grimace at him. +He bowed and smiled.</p> +<p>“You are entirely welcome,” she said.</p> +<p>He was standing on the edge of the quicksand, +watching her, when she reached the +long rise upon which she had sat on her pony +on a day some weeks before, and when she +turned he waved a hand to her. A little +later she vanished over the rise, and she had +not ridden very far when she heard the dull +report of his pistol. She shivered, and rode +on.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='VIII_SHEILA_FANS_A_FLAME' id='VIII_SHEILA_FANS_A_FLAME'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>SHEILA FANS A FLAME</h3> +</div> + +<p>Sheila departed from the quicksand +crossing nursing her wrath against the +man who had rescued her, feeling bitterly +vindictive against him, yet aware that +the Dakota who had saved her life was not +the Dakota whom she had feared during her +adventure with him in his cabin on the night +of her arrival in the country. He had +changed, and though she assured herself +that she despised him more than ever, she +found a grim amusement in the recollection +of his manner immediately following the +rescue, and in a review of the verbal battle, +in which she had been badly worsted.</p> +<p>His glances had had in them the quality +of inward mirth and satisfaction which is +most irritating, and behind his pretended remorse +she could see a pleasure over her dilemma +which made her yearn to inflict +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +punishment upon him that would cause him +to ask for mercy. His demeanor had said +plainly that if she wished to have the marriage +set aside all well and good—he would +offer no objection. But neither would he +take the initiative. Decidedly, it was a matter +in which she should consult her own desires.</p> +<p>It was late in the afternoon when she rode +up to the Double R corral gates and was +met there by her father and Duncan. Langford +had been worried, he said, and was +much concerned over her appearance. In +the presence of Duncan Sheila told him the +story of her danger and subsequent rescue +by Dakota and she saw his eyes narrow with +a strange light.</p> +<p>“Dakota!” he said. “Isn’t that the chap +who shot that half-breed over in Lazette the +day I came?”</p> +<p>To Sheila’s nod he ejaculated: “He’s a +trump!”</p> +<p>“He is a brute!” As the words escaped +her lips—she had not meant to utter them—Sheila +caught a glint in Duncan’s eyes which +told her that she had echoed the latter’s sentiments, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +and she felt almost like retracting +the charge. She had to bite her lips to resist +the impulse.</p> +<p>“A brute, eh?” laughed Langford. “It +strikes me that I wouldn’t so characterize a +man who had saved my life. The chances +are that after saving you he didn’t seem delighted +enough, or he didn’t smile to suit +you, or——”</p> +<p>“He ain’t so awful much of a man,” remarked +Duncan disparagingly.</p> +<p>Langford turned and looked at Duncan +with a comprehending smile. “Evidently +you owe Dakota nothing, my dear Duncan,” +he said.</p> +<p>The latter’s face darkened, and with +Sheila listening he told the story of the calf +deal, which had indirectly brought about the +death of Blanca.</p> +<p>“For a long time we had suspected Texas +Blanca of rustling,” said Duncan, “but we +couldn’t catch him with the goods. Five +years ago, after the spring round-up, I +branded a bunch of calves with a secret +mark, and then we rode sign on Blanca.</p> +<p>“We had him then, for the calves disappeared +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +and some of the boys found some of +them in Blanca’s corral, but we delayed, +hoping he would run off more, and while we +were waiting he sold out to Dakota. We +didn’t know that at the time; didn’t find it +out until we went over to take Blanca and +found Dakota living in his cabin. He had +a bill of sale from Blanca all right, showing +that he’d bought the calves from him. It +looked regular, but we had our doubts, and +Dakota and me came pretty near having a +run-in. If the boys hadn’t interfered——”</p> +<p>He hesitated and looked at Sheila, and as +her gaze met his steadily his eyes wavered +and a slow red came into his face, for the +recollection of what had actually occurred +at the meeting between him and Dakota was +not pleasant, and since that day Duncan had +many times heard the word “Yellow” +spoken in connection with his name—which +meant that he lacked courage.</p> +<p>“So he wasn’t a rustler, after all?” said +Sheila pleasantly. For some reason which +she could not entirely explain, she suspected +that Duncan had left many things out of his +story of his clash with Dakota. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></p> +<p>“Well, no,” admitted Duncan grudgingly.</p> +<p>Sheila was surprised at the satisfaction +she felt over this admission. Perhaps Duncan +read her face as she had read his, for he +frowned.</p> +<p>“Him and Blanca framed up—making +believe that Blanca had sold him the Star +brand,” he said venomously.</p> +<p>“I don’t believe it!” Sheila’s eyes met +Duncan’s and the latter’s wavered. She was +not certain which gave her the thrill she felt—her +defense of Dakota or Duncan’s bitter +rage over the exhibition of that defense.</p> +<p>“He doesn’t appear to me to be the sort +of man who would steal cows,” she said with +a smile which made Duncan’s teeth show. +“Although,” she continued significantly, +“it does seem that he is the sort of man I +would not care to trifle with—if I were a +man. You told me yourself, if you remember, +that you were not taking any chances +with him. And now you accuse him. If I +were you,” she warned, “I would be more +careful—I would keep from saying things +which I could not prove.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span></p> +<p>“Meaning that I’m afraid of him, I +reckon?” sneered Duncan.</p> +<p>Sheila looked at him, her eyes alight with +mischief. That day on the edge of the butte +overlooking the river, when Duncan had +talked about Dakota, she had detected in his +manner an inclination to belittle the latter; +several times since then she had heard him +speak venomously of him, and she had suspected +that all was not smooth between +them. And now since Duncan had related +the story of the calf incident she was certain +that the relations between the two men were +strained to the point of open rupture. Duncan +had bothered her, had annoyed her with +his attentions, had adopted toward her an +air of easy familiarity, which she had deeply +resented, and she yearned to humiliate him +deeply.</p> +<p>“Afraid?” She appeared to hesitate. +“Well, no,” she said, surveying him with an +appraising eye in which the mischief was +partly concealed, “I do not believe that you +are afraid. Perhaps you are merely careful +where he is concerned. But I am certain +that even if you were afraid of him you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +would not refuse to take his pony back. I +promised to send it back, you know.”</p> +<p>A deep red suddenly suffused Duncan’s +face. A sharp, savage gleam in his eyes—which +Sheila met with a disarming smile—convinced +her that he was aware of her object. +She saw also that he did not intend to +allow her to force him to perform the service.</p> +<p>He bowed and regarded her with a shallow +smile.</p> +<p>“I will have one of the boys take the pony +over to him the first thing in the morning,” +he said.</p> +<p>Sheila smiled sweetly. “Please don’t +bother,” she said. “I wouldn’t think of allowing +one of the men to take the pony back. +Perhaps I shall decide to ride over that way +myself. I should not care to have you meet +Dakota if you are afraid of him.”</p> +<p>Her rippling laugh caused the red in +Duncan’s face to deepen, but she gave him +no time to reply, for directly she had spoken +she turned and walked toward the ranchhouse. +Both Duncan and Langford +watched her until she had vanished, and then +Langford turned to Duncan. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></p> +<p>“What on earth have you done to her?” +he questioned.</p> +<p>But Duncan was savagely pulling the saddle +from Dakota’s pony and did not answer.</p> +<p>Sheila really had no expectation of prevailing +upon Duncan to return Dakota’s +horse, and had she anticipated that the manager +would accept her challenge she would +not have given it, for after thinking over the +incident of her rescue she had come to the +conclusion that she had not treated Dakota +fairly, and by personally taking his horse to +him she would have an opportunity to proffer +her tardy thanks for his service. She +did not revert to the subject of the animal’s +return during the evening meal, however, +nor after it when she and her father and +Duncan sat on the gallery of the ranchhouse +enjoying the cool of the night breezes.</p> +<p>After breakfast on the following morning +she was standing near the windmill, watching +the long arms travel lazily in their wide +circles, when she saw Duncan riding away +from the ranchhouse, leading Dakota’s +pony. She started toward the corral gates, +intending to call to him to return, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +thought better of the impulse and hailed him +tauntingly instead:</p> +<p>“Please tell him to accept my thanks,” +she said, and Duncan turned his head, bowed +mockingly, and continued on his way.</p> +<p>Half an hour after the departure of Duncan +Sheila pressed a loafing puncher into +service and directed him to rope a gentle +pony for her. After the puncher had secured +a suitable appearing animal and had +placed a saddle and bridle on it, she compelled +him to ride it several times around +the confines of the pasture to make certain +that it would not “buck.” Then she +mounted and rode up the river.</p> +<p>Duncan was not particularly pleased over +his errand, and many times while he rode the +trail toward Dakota’s cabin his lips moved +from his teeth in a snarl. Following the incident +of the theft of the calves by Blanca, +Duncan had taken pains to insinuate publicly +that Dakota’s purchase of the Star from +the half-breed had been a clever ruse to avert +suspicion, intimating that a partnership existed +between Dakota and Blanca. The +shooting of Blanca by Dakota, however, had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +exploded this charge, and until now Duncan +had been very careful to avoid a meeting +with the man whom he had maligned.</p> +<p>During the night he had given much +thought to the circumstance which was sending +him to meet his enemy. He had a suspicion +that Sheila had purposely taunted +him with cowardice—that in all probability +Dakota himself had suggested the plan in +order to force a meeting with him. This +thought suggested another. Sheila’s defense +of Dakota seemed to indicate that a +certain intimacy existed between them. He +considered this carefully, and with a throb +of jealously concluded that Dakota’s action +in saving Sheila’s life would very likely pave +the way for a closer acquaintance.</p> +<p>Certainly, in spite of Sheila’s remark +about Dakota being a “brute,” she had betrayed +evidence of admiration for the man. +In that case her veiled allusions to his own +fear of meeting Dakota were very likely +founded on something which Dakota had +told her, and certainly anything which Dakota +might have said about him would not +be complimentary. Therefore his rage +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +against both Sheila and his enemy was bitter +when he finally rode up to the door of the +latter’s cabin.</p> +<p>There was hope in his heart that Dakota +might prove to be absent, and when, after +calling once and receiving no answer, he dismounted +and hitched Dakota’s pony to a +rail of the corral fence, there was a smile of +satisfaction on his face.</p> +<p>He took plenty of time to hitch the pony; +he even lingered at the corral bars, leaning +on them to watch several steers which were +inside the enclosure. He found time, too, +in spite of his fear of his enemy, to sneer +over the evidences of prosperity which were +on every hand. He was congratulating +himself on his good fortune in reaching Dakota’s +cabin during a time when the latter +was absent, when he heard a slight sound behind +him. He turned rapidly, to see Dakota +standing in the doorway of the cabin, +watching him with cold, level eyes, one of +his heavy six-shooters in hand.</p> +<p>Duncan’s face went slowly pale. He did +not speak at once and when he did he was +surprised at his hoarseness. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></p> +<p>“I’ve brought your cayuse back,” he said +finally.</p> +<p>“So I see,” returned Dakota. His eyes +glinted with a cold humor, though they were +still regarding Duncan with an alertness +which the other could not mistake.</p> +<p>“So I see,” repeated Dakota. His slow +drawl was in evidence again. “I don’t recollect, +though, that I sent word to have <i>you</i> +bring him back.”</p> +<p>“I wasn’t tickled to death over the job,” +returned Duncan.</p> +<p>Now that his first surprise was over and +Dakota had betrayed no sign of resenting +his visit, Duncan felt easier. There had +been a slight sneer in his voice when he answered.</p> +<p>“That isn’t surprising,” returned Dakota. +“There never was a time when you were +tickled a heap to stick your nose into my +affairs.” His smile froze Duncan.</p> +<p>“I ain’t looking for trouble,” said the latter, +with a perfect knowledge of Dakota’s +peculiar expression.</p> +<p>“Then why did you come over here? I +reckon there wasn’t anyone else to send my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +horse over by?” said Dakota, his voice coming +with a truculent snap.</p> +<p>Duncan flushed. “Sheila Langford sent +me,” he admitted reluctantly.</p> +<p>Dakota’s eyes lighted with incredulity. +“I reckon you’re a liar,” he said with cold +emphasis.</p> +<p>Duncan’s gaze went to the pistol in Dakota’s +hand and his lips curled. He knew +that he was perfectly safe so long as he +made no hostile move, for in spite of his +derogatory remarks about the man he was +aware that he never used his weapons without +provocation.</p> +<p>Therefore he forced a smile. “You ain’t +running no Blanca deal on me,” he said. +“Calling me a liar ain’t going to get no rise +out of me. But she sent me, just the same. +I reckon, liking you as I do, that I ought +to be glad she gave me the chance to come +over and see you, but I ain’t. We was gassing +about you and she told me I was scared +to bring your cayuse back.” He laughed +mirthlessly. “I reckon I’ve proved that I +ain’t any scared.”</p> +<p>“No,” said Dakota with a cold grin, +“you ain’t scared. You know that there +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +won’t be any shooting done unless you get +careless with that gun you carry.” His +eyes were filled with a whimsical humor, but +they were still alert, as he watched Duncan’s +face for signs of insincerity. He saw no +such signs and his expression became mocking. +“So she sent you over here?” he said, +and his was the voice of one enemy enjoying +some subtle advantage over another. “Why, +I reckon you’re a kind of handy man to have +around—sort of ladies’ man—running errands +and such.”</p> +<p>Duncan’s face bloated with anger, but he +dared not show open resentment. For behind +Dakota’s soft voice and gentle, over-polite +manner, he felt the deep rancor for +whose existence he alone was responsible. +So, trying to hold his passions in check, he +grinned at Dakota, significantly, insinuatingly, +unable finally to keep the bitter hatred +and jealousy out of his voice. For in +the evilness of his mind he had drawn many +imaginary pictures of what had occurred between +Dakota and Sheila immediately after +her rescue by the latter.</p> +<p>“I reckon,” he said hoarsely, “that you +take a heap of interest in Sheila.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></p> +<p>“That’s part of your business, I suppose?” +Dakota’s voice was suddenly hard.</p> +<p>Duncan had decided to steer carefully +away from any trouble with Dakota; he had +even decided that as a measure for his own +safety he must say nothing which would be +likely to arouse Dakota’s anger, but the +jealous thoughts in his mind had finally gotten +the better of prudence, and the menace +in Dakota’s voice angered him.</p> +<p>“I reckon,” he said with a sneer, “that I +ain’t as much interested in her as you are.”</p> +<p>He started back, his lips tightening over +his teeth in a snarl of alarm and fear, for +Dakota had stepped down from the doorway +and was at his side, his eyes narrowed +with cold wrath.</p> +<p>“Meaning what?” he demanded harshly, +sharply, for he imagined that perhaps Sheila +had told of her marriage to him, and the +thought that Duncan should have been selected +by her to share the secret maddened +him.</p> +<p>“Meaning what, you damned coyote?” +he insisted, stepping closer to Duncan.</p> +<p>“Meaning that she ain’t admiring you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +for nothing,” flared Duncan incautiously, +his jealously overcoming his better judgment. +“Meaning that any woman which +has been pulled out of a quicksand like you +pulled her out might be expected to favor +you with——”</p> +<p>The sunlight flashed on Dakota’s pistol +as it leaped from his right hand to his left +and was bolstered with a jerk. And with +the same motion his clenched fist was +jammed with savage force against Duncan’s +lips, cutting short the slanderous words and +sending him in a heap to the dust of the corral +yard.</p> +<p>With a cry of rage Duncan grasped for +his pistol and drew it out, but the hand holding +it was stamped violently into the earth, +the arm bent and twisted until the fingers +released the weapon. And then Dakota +stood over him, looking down at him with +narrowed, chilling eyes, his face white and +hard, his anger gone as quickly as it had +come. He said no word while Duncan +clambered awkwardly to his feet and +mounted his horse.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +<img src='images/illus-161.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 395px; height: 543px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 395px;'> +DUNCAN GRASPED FOR HIS PISTOL, BUT THE HAND HOLDING IT WAS STAMPED VIOLENTLY INTO THE EARTH.<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span></div> +<p>“I’m telling you something,” he said +quietly, as Duncan lifted the reins with his +uninjured hand, turning his horse to depart. +“You and me have never hitched +very well and there isn’t any chance of us +ever falling on each other’s necks. I think +what I’ve done to you about squares us for +that calf deal. I’ve been yearning to hand +you something before you left the country, +but I didn’t expect you’d give me the chance +in just this way. I’m warning you that the +next time you shove your coyote nose into +my business I’ll muss it up some. That applies +to Miss Sheila. If I ever hear of you +getting her name on your dirty tongue again +I’ll tear you apart. I reckon that’s all.” +He drew his pistol and balanced it in his +right hand. “It makes me feel some reckless +to be talking to you,” he added, a glint +of intolerance in his eyes. “You’d better +travel before I change my mind.</p> +<p>“You don’t need to mention this to Miss +Sheila,” he said mockingly, as Duncan urged +his horse away from the corral gate; “just +let her go on—thinking you’re a man.”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='IX_STRICTLY_BUSINESS' id='IX_STRICTLY_BUSINESS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>STRICTLY BUSINESS</h3> +</div> + +<p>For two or three quiet weeks Sheila +did not see much of Duncan, and her +father bothered her very little. Several +nights on the gallery of the ranchhouse +she had seen the two men sitting very close +together, and on one or two occasions she +had overheard scraps of conversation carried +on between them in which Doubler’s +name was mentioned.</p> +<p>She remembered Doubler as one of the +nesters whom Duncan had mentioned that +day on the butte overlooking the river, and +though her father and Duncan had a perfect +right to discuss him, it seemed to Sheila +that there had been a serious note in their +voices when they had mentioned his name.</p> +<p>She had become acquainted with Doubler. +Since discontinuing her rides with her father +and Duncan she had gone out every day +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +alone, though she was careful to avoid any +crossing in the river which looked the least +suspicious. Such crossings as she could +ford were few, and for that reason she was +forced to ride most of the time to the Two +Forks, where there was an excellent shallow, +with long slopes sweeping up to the +plains on both sides.</p> +<p>The first time that she crossed at the Two +Forks she had come upon a small adobe +cabin situated a few hundred yards back +from the water’s edge.</p> +<p>Sheila would have fled from the vicinity, +for there was still fresh in her mind a recollection +of another cabin in which she had +once passed many fearsome hours, but while +she hesitated, on the verge of flight, Doubler +came to the door, and when she saw that +he was an old man with a kindly face, much +of her perturbation vanished, and she remained +to talk.</p> +<p>Doubler was hospitable and solicitous and +supplied her with some soda biscuit and fresh +beef and a tin cup full of delicious coffee. +She refused to enter the cabin, and so he +brought the food out to her and sat on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +step beside her while she ate, betraying much +interest in her.</p> +<p>Doubler asked no questions regarding her +identity, and Sheila marveled much over +this. But when she prepared to depart she +understood why he had betrayed no curiosity +concerning her.</p> +<p>“I reckon you’re that Langford girl?” +he said.</p> +<p>“Yes,” returned Sheila, wondering. “I +am Sheila Langford. But who told you? +I was not aware that anyone around here +knew me—except the people at the Double +R.”</p> +<p>“Dakota told me.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” A chill came into her voice which +instantly attracted Doubler’s attention. He +looked at her with an odd smile.</p> +<p>“You know Dakota?”</p> +<p>“I have met him.”</p> +<p>“You don’t like him, I reckon?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Well, now,” commented Doubler, “I +reckon I’ve got things mixed. But from +Dakota’s talk I took it that you an’ him was +pretty thick.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span></p> +<p>“His talk?” Sheila remembered Dakota’s +statement that he had told no one of +their relations. So he <i>had</i> been talking, after +all! She was not surprised, but she was +undeniably angry and embarrassed to think +that perhaps all the time she had been talking +to Doubler he might have been appraising +her on the basis of her adventure with +Dakota.</p> +<p>“What has he been saying?” she demanded +coldly.</p> +<p>“Nothing, ma’am. That is, nothin’ +which any man wouldn’t say about you, once +he’d seen you an’ talked some to you.” +Doubler surveyed her with sparkling, appreciative +eyes.</p> +<p>“As a rule it don’t pay to go to gossipin’ +with anyone—least of all with a woman. +But I reckon I can tell you what he said, +ma’am, without you gettin’ awful mad. He +didn’t say nothin’ except that he’d taken an +awful shine to you. An’ he’d likely make +things mighty unpleasant for me if he’d find +that I’d told you that.”</p> +<p>“Shine?” There was a world of scornful +wonder in Sheila’s voice. “Would you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +mind telling me what ‘taking a shine’ to +anyone means?”</p> +<p>“Why, no, I reckon I don’t mind, ma’am, +seein’ that it’s you. ‘Takin’ a shine’ to you +means that he’s some stuck on you—likes +you, that is. An’ I reckon you can’t blame +him much for doin’ that.”</p> +<p>Sheila did not answer, though a sudden +flood of red to her face made the use of mere +words entirely unnecessary so far as Doubler +was concerned, for he smiled wisely.</p> +<p>Sheila fled down the trail toward the crossing +without a parting word to Doubler, +leaving him standing at the door squinting +with amusement at her. But on the morrow +she had returned, determined to discover +something of Dakota, to learn something +of his history since coming into the +country, or at the least to see if she could +not induce Doubler to disclose his real name.</p> +<p>She was unsuccessful. Dakota had never +taken Doubler into his confidence, and the +information that she succeeded in worming +from the nester was not more than he had +already volunteered, or than Duncan had +given her that day when they were seated +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +on the edge of the butte overlooking the +river.</p> +<p>She was convinced that Doubler had told +her all he knew, and she wondered at the +custom which permitted friendship on the +basis of such meager knowledge.</p> +<p>She quickly grew to like Doubler. He +showed a fatherly interest in her and always +greeted her with a smile when during +her rides she came to his cabin, or when she +met him, as she did frequently, on the open +range. His manner toward her was always +cordial, and he seemed not to have a care. +One morning, however, she rode up to the +door of the cabin and Doubler’s face was +serious. He stood quietly in the doorway, +watching her as she sat on her pony, not +offering to assist her down as he usually did, +and she knew instantly that something had +happened to disturb his peace of mind. He +did not invite her into the cabin.</p> +<p>“Ma’am,” he said, and Sheila detected +regret in his voice, “I’m a heap sorry, but +of course you won’t be comin’ here any +more.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see why!” returned Sheila in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +surprise. “I like to come here. But, of +course, if you don’t want me——”</p> +<p>“It ain’t that,” he interrupted quickly. +“I thought you knowed. But you don’t, of +course, or you wouldn’t have come just now. +Your dad an’ Duncan was over to see me +yesterday.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t know that,” returned Sheila. +“But I can’t see why a visit from father +should——”</p> +<p>“He’s wantin’ me to pull my freight out +of the country,” said Doubler “An’ of +course I ain’t doin’ it. Therefore I’m severin’ +diplomatic relations with your family.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see why——” began Sheila, puzzled +to understand why a mere visit on her +father’s part should have the result Doubler +had announced.</p> +<p>“Of course you don’t,” Doubler told her. +“You’re a woman an’ don’t understand +such things. But in this country when a +little owner has got some land which a big +owner wants—an’ can’t buy—there’s likely +to be trouble. I ain’t proved on my land +yet, an’ if your dad can run me off he’ll be +pretty apt to grab it somehow or other. But +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +he ain’t runnin’ me off an’ so there’s a heap +of trouble comin’. An’ of course while +there’s trouble you won’t be comin’ here any +more after this. Likely your dad wouldn’t +have it. I’m sorry, too. I like you a lot.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see why father should want your +land,” Sheila told him gravely, much disturbed +at this unexpected development. +“There is plenty of land here.” She swept +a hand toward the plains.</p> +<p>“There ain’t enough for some people,” +grimly laughed Doubler. “Some people is +hawgs—askin’ your pardon, ma’am. I +wasn’t expectin’ your father to be like that, +after seein’ you. I was hopin’ that we’d be +able to get along. I’ve had some trouble +with Duncan—not very long ago. Once I +had to speak pretty plain to him. I expect +he’s been fillin’ your dad up.”</p> +<p>“I’ll see father about it.” Sheila’s face +was red with a pained embarrassment. “I +am sure that father will not make any +trouble for you—he isn’t that kind of man.”</p> +<p>“He’s that kind of a man, sure enough,” +said Doubler gravely. “I reckon I’ve got +him sized up right. He ain’t in no way like +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +you, ma’am. If you hadn’t told me I reckon +I wouldn’t have knowed he is your father.”</p> +<p>“He is my stepfather,” admitted Sheila.</p> +<p>“I knowed it!” declared Doubler. “I’m +too old to be fooled by what I see in a man’s +face—or in a woman’s face either. Don’t +you go to say anything about this business +to him. He’s bound to try to run me off. +He done said so. I don’t know when I ever +heard a man talk any meaner than he did. +Said that if I didn’t sell he’d make things +mighty unpleasant for me. An’ so I reckon +there’s goin’ to be some fun.”</p> +<p>Sheila did not remain long at Doubler’s +cabin, for her mind was in a riot of rage and +resentment against her father for his attitude +toward Doubler, and she cut short her +ride in the hope of being able to have a talk +with him before he left the ranchhouse. But +when she returned she was told by Duncan’s +sister that Langford had departed some +hours before—alone. He had not mentioned +his destination.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>Ben Doubler had omitted an important +detail from his story of Langford’s visit to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +his cabin, for he had not cared to frighten +Sheila unnecessarily. But as Langford rode +toward Doubler’s cabin this morning his +thoughts persisted in dwelling on Doubler’s +final words to him, spoken as he and Duncan +had turned their horses to leave the +nester’s cabin the day before:</p> +<p>“If it’s goin’ to be war, Langford, it ain’t +goin’ to be no pussy-kitten affair. I’m +warnin’ you to stay away from the Two +Forks. If I ketch you or any of your men +nosin’ around there I’m goin’ to bore you +some rapid.”</p> +<p>Langford had sneered then, and he +sneered now as he rode toward the river, +for he had no doubt that Doubler had uttered +the threat in a spirit of bravado. Of +course, he told himself as he rode, the man +was forced to say something, but the idea +of him being serious in the threat to shoot +any one who came to the Two Forks was +ridiculous.</p> +<p>All his life Langford had heard threats +from the lips of his victims, and thus far +they had remained only threats. He had +determined to see Doubler this morning, for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +he had noticed that the nester had appeared +ill at ease in the presence of Duncan, and +he anticipated that alone he could force him +to accept terms. When he reached the +crossing at Two Forks he urged his pony +through its waters, his face wearing a confident +smile.</p> +<p>There was an open stretch of grass land +between the crossing and Doubler’s cabin, +and when Langford urged his pony up the +sloping bank of the river he saw the nester +standing near the door of the cabin, watching. +Langford was about to force his pony +to a faster pace, when he saw Doubler raise +a rifle to his shoulder. Still, he continued to +ride forward, but he pulled the pony up +shortly when he saw the flame spurt from +the muzzle of the rifle and heard the shrill +hiss of the bullet as it passed dangerously +near to him.</p> +<p>No words were needed, and neither man +spoke any. Without stopping to give +Doubler an opportunity to speak, Langford +wheeled his pony, and with a white, +scared face, bending low over the animal’s +mane to escape any bullets which might follow +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +the first, rapidly recrossed the river. +Once on the crest of the hill on the opposite +side he turned, and trembling with rage and +fear, shook a clenched hand at Doubler. The +latter’s reply was a strident laugh.</p> +<p>Langford returned to the ranchouse, riding +slowly, though in his heart was a riot of +rage and hatred against the nester. It was +war, to be sure. But now that Doubler had +shown in no unmistakable manner that he +had not been trifling the day before, Langford +was no longer in doubt as to the method +he would have to employ in his attempt to +gain possession of his land. Doubler, he +felt, had made the choice.</p> +<p>The ride to the ranchhouse took long, but +by the time Langford arrived there he had +regained his composure, saying nothing to +anyone concerning his adventure.</p> +<p>For three days he kept his own counsel, +riding out alone, taciturn, giving much +thought to the situation. Sheila had intended +to speak to him regarding the trouble +with Doubler, but his manner repulsed her +and she kept silent, hoping that the mood +would pass. However, the mood did not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +pass. Langford continued to ride out alone, +maintaining a moody silence, sitting alone +much with his own thoughts and allowing +no one to break down the barrier of taciturnity +which he had erected.</p> +<p>On the morning of the fifth day after his +adventure with Doubler he was sitting on +the ranchhouse gallery with Duncan, enjoying +an after-breakfast cigar, when he said +casually to the latter:</p> +<p>"I take it that folks in this country are +mighty careless with their weapons."</p> +<p>Duncan grinned. "You might call it +careless," he returned. "No doubt there +are people—people who come out here from +the East—who think that a man who carries +a gun out here is careless with it. But I +reckon that when a man draws a gun here +he draws it with a pretty definite purpose."</p> +<p>"I have heard," continued Langford +slowly, "that there are men in this country +who do not hesitate to kill other people for +money."</p> +<p>"Meaning that there are road agents and +such?" questioned Duncan.</p> +<p>"Naturally, that particular kind would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +be included. I meant, however another +kind—I believe they are called ‘bad men,’ +are they not? Men who kill for hire?”</p> +<p>Duncan cast a furtive glance at Langford +out of the corners of his eyes, but could +draw no conclusions concerning the latter’s +motive in asking the question from the expression +of his face.</p> +<p>“Such men drift in occasionally,” he returned, +convinced that Langford’s curiosity +was merely casual—as Langford desired +him to consider it. “Usually, though, they +don’t stay long.”</p> +<p>“I suppose there are none of that breed +around here—in Lazette, for instance. It +struck me that Dakota was extraordinarily +handy with a gun.”</p> +<p>He puffed long at his cigar and saw that, +though Duncan did not answer, his face had +grown suddenly dark with passion, as it always +did when Dakota’s name was mentioned. +Langford smiled subtly. “I suppose,” +he said, “that Dakota might be called +a bad man.”</p> +<p>Duncan’s eyes flashed with venom. “I +reckon Dakota’s nothing but a damned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +sneak!” he said, not being able to conceal +the bitterness in his voice.</p> +<p>Langford did not allow his smile to be +seen; he had not forgotten the incident of +the returning of Dakota’s horse by Duncan.</p> +<p>“He’s a dead shot, though,” he suggested.</p> +<p>“I’m allowing that,” grudgingly returned +Duncan. “And,” he added, “it’s been +hinted that all his shooting scrapes haven’t +been on the level.”</p> +<p>“He is not straight, then?” said Langford, +his eyes gleaming. “Not ‘square,’ as +you say in this country?”</p> +<p>“I reckon there ain’t nothing square +about him,” returned Duncan, glad of an +opportunity to defame his enemy.</p> +<p>Again Langford did not allow Duncan to +see his smile, and he deftly directed the current +of the conversation into other channels.</p> +<p>He rode out again that day, taking the +river trail and passing Dakota’s cabin, but +Dakota himself was nowhere to be seen and +at dusk Langford returned to the Double R. +During the evening meal he enveloped himself +with a silence which proved impenetrable. +He retired early, to Duncan’s surprise, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +and the next morning, without announcing +his plans to anyone, saddled his +pony and rode away toward the river trail.</p> +<p>He took a circuitous route to reach it, +riding slowly, with the air and manner of a +man who is thinking deep thoughts, smiling +much, though many times grimly.</p> +<p>“Dakota isn’t square,” he said once aloud +during one of his grim smiles.</p> +<p>When he came to the quicksand crossing +he halted and examined the earth in the +vicinity, smiling more broadly at the marks +and hoof prints in the hard sand near the +water’s edge. Then he rode on.</p> +<p>Two or three miles from the quicksand +crossing he came suddenly upon Dakota’s +cabin. Dakota himself was repairing a saddle +in the shade of the cabin wall, and for +all that Langford could see he was entirely +unaware of his approach. He saw Dakota +look up when he passed the corral gate, and +when he reached a point about twenty feet +distant he observed a faint smile on Dakota’s +face.</p> +<p>“Howdy, stranger,” came the latter’s +voice. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span></p> +<p>“How are you, my friend?” greeted +Langford easily.</p> +<p>It was not hard for Langford to adopt an +air of familiarity toward the man who had +figured prominently in his thoughts during +a great many of the previous twenty-four +hours. He dismounted from his pony, +hitched the animal to a rail of the corral +fence, and approached Dakota, standing in +front of him and looking down at him with +a smile.</p> +<p>Dakota apparently took little interest in +his visitor, for keeping his seat on the box +upon which he had been sitting when Langford +had first caught sight of him, he continued +to give his attention to the saddle.</p> +<p>“I’m from the Double R,” offered Langford, +feeling slightly less important, conscious +that somehow the familiarity that he +had felt existed between them a moment before +was a singularly fleeting thing.</p> +<p>“I noticed that,” responded Dakota, still +busy with his saddle.</p> +<p>“How?”</p> +<p>“I reckon that you’ve forgot that your +horse has got a brand on him?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></p> +<p>“You’ve got keen eyes, my friend,” +laughed Langford.</p> +<p>“Have I?” Dakota had not looked at +Langford until now, and as he spoke he +raised his head and gazed fairly into the +latter’s eyes.</p> +<p>For a moment neither man moved or +spoke. It seemed to Langford, as he gazed +into the steely, fathomless blue of the eyes +which held his—held them, for now as he +looked it was the first time in his life that +his gaze had met a fellow being’s steadily—that +he could see there an unmistakable, +grim mockery. And that was all, for whatever +other emotions Dakota felt, they were +invisible to Langford. He drew a deep +breath, suddenly aware that before him was +a man exactly like himself in one respect—skilled +in the art of keeping his emotions to +himself. Langford had not met many such +men; usually he was able to see clear +through a man—able to read him. But this +man he could not read. He was puzzled +and embarrassed over the discovery. His +gaze finally wavered; he looked away.</p> +<p>“A man don’t have to have such terribly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +keen eyes to be able to see a brand,” observed +Dakota, drawling; “especially when he’s +passed a whole lot of his time looking at +brands.”</p> +<p>“That’s so,” agreed Langford. “I suppose +you have been a cowboy a long time.”</p> +<p>“Longer than you’ve been a ranch +owner.”</p> +<p>Langford looked quickly at Dakota, for +now the latter was again busy with his saddle, +but he could detect no sarcasm in his +face, though plainly there had been a subtle +quality of it in his voice.</p> +<p>“Then you know me?” he said.</p> +<p>“No. I don’t know you. I’ve put two +and two together. I heard that Duncan was +selling the Double R. I’ve seen your daughter. +And you ride up here on a Double R +horse. There ain’t no other strangers in the +country. Then, of course, you’re the new +owner of the Double R.”</p> +<p>Langford looked again at the inscrutable +face of the man beside him and felt a sudden +deep respect for him. Even if he had not +witnessed the killing of Texas Blanca that +day in Lazette he would have known the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +man before him for what he was—a quiet, +cool, self-possessed man of much experience, +who could not be trifled with.</p> +<p>“That’s right,” he admitted; “I am the +new owner of the Double R. And I have +come, my friend, to thank you for what you +did for my daughter.”</p> +<p>“She told you, then?” Dakota’s gaze +was again on Langford, an odd light in his +eyes.</p> +<p>“Certainly.”</p> +<p>“She’s told you what?”</p> +<p>“How you rescued her from the quicksand.”</p> +<p>Dakota’s gaze was still on his visitor, +quiet, intent. “She tell you anything else?” +he questioned slowly.</p> +<p>“Why, what else is there to tell?” There +was sincere curiosity in Langford’s voice, +for Sheila had always told him everything +that happened to her. It was not like her +to keep anything secret from him.</p> +<p>“Did she tell you that she forgot to thank +me for saving her?” There was a queer +smile on Dakota’s lips, a peculiar, pleased +glint in his eyes. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></p> +<p>“No, she neglected to relate that,” returned +Langford.</p> +<p>“Forgot it. That’s what I thought. Do +you think she forgot it intentionally?”</p> +<p>“It wouldn’t be like her.”</p> +<p>“Of course not. And so she’s sent <i>you</i> +over to thank me! Tell her no thanks are +due. And if she inquires, tell her that the +pony didn’t make a sound or a struggle when +I shot him.”</p> +<p>“As it happens, she didn’t send me,” +smiled Langford. “There was the excitement, +of course, and I presume she forgot +to thank you—possibly will ride over herself +some day to thank you personally. But she +didn’t send me—I came without her knowledge.”</p> +<p>“To thank me—for her?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“You’re visiting then. Or maybe just +riding around to look at your range. Sit +down.” He motioned to another box that +stood near the door of the cabin.</p> +<p>Once Langford became seated Dakota +again busied himself with the saddle, ignoring +his visitor. Langford shifted uneasily +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +on the box, for the seat was not to his liking +and the attitude of his host was most peculiar. +He fell silent also and kicked +gravely and absently into a hummock with +the toe of his boot.</p> +<p>Singularly enough, a plan which had +taken form in his mind since Doubler had +shot at him seemed suddenly to have many +defects, though until now it had seemed +complete enough. Out of the jumble of +thoughts that had rioted in his brain after +his departure from Two Forks crossing had +risen a conviction. Doubler was a danger +and a menace and must be removed. And +there was no legal way to remove him, +for though he had not proved on his land he +was entitled to it to the limit set by the law, +or until his death.</p> +<p>Langford’s purpose in questioning Duncan +had been to learn of the presence of +someone in the country who would not be +averse to removing Doubler. The possibility +of disposing of the nester in this manner +had been before him ever since he had +learned of his presence on the Two Forks. +He had not been surprised when Duncan +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +had mentioned Dakota as being a probable +tool, for he had thought over the occurrence +of the shooting in Lazette many times, and +had been much impressed with Dakota’s +coolness and his satanic cleverness with a +six-shooter, and it seemed that it would be +a simple matter to arrange with him for the +removal of Doubler. Yes, it had seemed +simple enough when he had planned it, and +when Duncan had told him that Dakota was +not on the “square.”</p> +<p>But now, looking covertly at the man, he +found that he was not quite certain in spite +of what Duncan had said. He had mentally +worked out his plan of approaching Dakota +many times. But now the defect in the plan +seemed to be that he had misjudged his man—that +Duncan had misjudged him. Plainly +he would make a mistake were he to approach +Dakota with a bold request for the +removing of the nester—he must clothe it. +Thus, after a long silence, he started +obliquely.</p> +<p>“My friend,” he said, “it must be lonesome +out here for you.”</p> +<p>“Not so lonesome.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span></p> +<p>“It’s a big country, though—lots of land. +There seems to be no end to it.”</p> +<p>“That’s right, there’s plenty of it. I +reckon the Lord wasn’t in a stingy mood +when he made it.”</p> +<p>“Yet there seem to be restrictions even +here.”</p> +<p>“Restrictions?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” laughed Langford; “restrictions +on a man’s desires.”</p> +<p>Dakota looked at him with a saturnine +smile. “Restrictions on a man’s desires,” +he repeated slowly. Then he laughed mirthlessly. +“Some people wouldn’t be satisfied +if they owned the whole earth. They’d be +wanting the sun, moon, and stars thrown in +for good measure.”</p> +<p>Langford laughed again. “That’s human +nature, my friend,” he contended, determined +not to be forced to digress from the +main subject. “Have you got everything +you want? Isn’t there anything besides +what you already have that appeals to you? +Have you no ambition?”</p> +<p>“There are plenty of things I want. +Maybe I’d be modest, though, if I had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +ambition. We all want a lot of things which +we can’t get.”</p> +<p>“Correct, my friend. Some of us want +money, others desire happiness, still others +are after something else. As you say, some +of use are never satisfied—the ambitious +ones.”</p> +<p>“Then you are ambitious?”</p> +<p>“You’ve struck it,” smiled Langford.</p> +<p>Dakota caught his gaze, and there was a +smile of derision on his lips. “What particular +thing are <i>you</i> looking for?” he questioned.</p> +<p>“Land.”</p> +<p>“Mine?” Dakota’s lips curled a little. +“Doubler’s, then,” he added as Langford +shook his head with an emphatic, negative +motion. “He’s the only man who’s got +land near yours.”</p> +<p>“That’s correct,” admitted Langford; +“I want Doubler’s land.”</p> +<p>There was a silence for a few minutes, +while Langford watched Dakota furtively +as the latter gave his entire attention to his +saddle.</p> +<p>“You’ve got all the rest of those things +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +you spoke about, then—happiness, money, +and such?” said Dakota presently, in a low +voice.</p> +<p>“Yes. I am pretty well off there.”</p> +<p>“All you want is Doubler’s land?” He +stopped working with the saddle and looked +at Langford. “I reckon, if you’ve got all +those things, that you ought to be satisfied. +But of course you ain’t satisfied, or you +wouldn’t want Doubler’s land. Did you +offer to buy it?”</p> +<p>“I asked him to name his own figure, and +he wouldn’t sell—wouldn’t even consider +selling, though I offered him what I considered +a fair price.”</p> +<p>“That’s odd, isn’t it? You’d naturally +think that money could buy everything. +But maybe Doubler has found happiness +on his land. You couldn’t buy that from +a man, you know. I suppose you care a +lot about Doubler’s happiness—you +wouldn’t want to take his land if you knew +he was happy on it? Or don’t it make any +difference to you?” There was faint sarcasm +in his voice.</p> +<p>“As it happens,” said Langford, reddening +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +a little, “this isn’t a question of happiness—it +is merely business. Doubler’s land +adjoins mine. I want to extend my holdings. +I can’t extend in Doubler’s direction +because Doubler controls the water rights. +Therefore it is my business to see that +Doubler gets out.”</p> +<p>“And sentiment has got no place in business. +That right? It doesn’t make any difference +to you that Doubler doesn’t want to +sell; you want his land, and that settles it—so +far as you are concerned. You don’t +consider Doubler’s feelings. Well, I don’t +know but that’s the way things are run—one +man keeps what he can and another +gets what he is able to get. What are you +figuring to do about Doubler?”</p> +<p>Langford glanced at Dakota with an +oily, significant smile. “I am new to the +country, my friend,” he said. “I don’t +know anything about the usual custom employed +to force a man to give up his land. +Could you suggest anything?”</p> +<p>Dakota deliberately took up a wax-end, +rolled it, and squinted his eyes as he forced +the end of the thread through the eye of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +needle which he held in the other hand. So +far as Langford could see he exhibited no +emotion whatever; his face was inscrutable; +he might not have heard.</p> +<p>Yet Langford knew that he had heard; +was certain that he grasped the full meaning +of the question; probably felt some emotion +over it, and was masking it by appearing +to busy himself with the saddle. Langford’s +respect for him grew and he wisely +kept silent, knowing that in time Dakota +would answer. But when the answer did +come it was not the one that Langford expected. +Dakota’s eyes met his in a level +gaze.</p> +<p>“Why don’t you shoot him yourself?” +he said, drawling his words a little.</p> +<p>“Not taking any chances?” Dakota’s +voice was filled with a cold sarcasm as he +continued, after an interval during which +Langford kept a discreetly still tongue. +“Your business principles don’t take you +quite that far, eh? And so you’ve come over +to get me to shoot him? Why didn’t you +say so in the beginning—it would have +saved all this time.” He laughed coldly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span></p> +<p>“What makes you think that you could hire +me to put Doubler out of business?”</p> +<p>“I saw you shoot Blanca,” said Langford. +“And I sounded Duncan.” It did +not disturb him to discover that Dakota had +all along been aware of the object of his +visit. It rather pleased him, in fact, to be +given proof of the man’s discernment—it +showed that he was deep and clever.</p> +<p>“You saw me shoot Blanca,” said Dakota +with a strange smile, “and Duncan told +you I was the man to put Doubler away. +Those are my recommendations.” His +voice was slightly ironical, almost concealing +a slight harshness. “Did Duncan mention +that he was a friend of mine?” he +asked. “No?” His smile grew mocking. +“Just merely mentioned that I was uncommonly +clever in the art of getting people—undesirable +people—out of the way. Don’t +get the idea, though, because Duncan told +you, that I make a business of shooting +folks. I put Blanca out of the way because +it was a question of him or me—I shot him +to save my own hide. Shooting Doubler +would be quite another proposition. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +Still——” He looked at Langford, his +eyes narrowing and smoldering with a +mysterious fire.</p> +<p>It seemed that he was inviting Langford +to make a proposal, and the latter smiled +evilly. “Still,” he said, repeating Dakota’s +word with a significant inflection, +“you don’t refuse to listen to me. It would +be worth a thousand dollars to me to have +Doubler out of the way,” he added.</p> +<p>It was out now, and Langford sat silent +while Dakota gazed into the distance that +reached toward the nester’s cabin. Langford +watched Dakota closely, but there was +an absolute lack of expression in the latter’s +face.</p> +<p>“How are you offering to pay the thousand?” +questioned Dakota. “And when?”</p> +<p>“In cash, when Doubler isn’t here any +more.”</p> +<p>Dakota looked up at him, his face a mask +of immobility. “That <i>sounds</i> all right,” he +said, with slow emphasis. “I reckon you’ll +put it in writing?”</p> +<p>Langford’s eyes narrowed; he smiled +craftily. “That,” he said smoothly, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +“would put me in your power. I have +never been accused of being a fool by any +of the men with whom I have done business. +Don’t you think that at my age it +is a little late to start?”</p> +<p>“I reckon we don’t make any deal,” +laughed Dakota shortly.</p> +<p>“We’ll arrange it this way,” suggested +Langford. “Doubler is not the only man +I want to get rid of. I want your land, +too. But”—he added as he saw Dakota’s +lips harden—“I don’t purpose to proceed +against you in the manner I am dealing +with Doubler. I flatter myself that I know +men quite well. I’d like to buy your land. +What would be a fair price for it?”</p> +<p>“Five thousand.”</p> +<p>“We’ll put it this way, then,” said Langford, +briskly and silkily. “I will give you +an agreement worded in this manner: ‘One +month after date I promise to pay to Dakota +the sum of six thousand dollars, in consideration +of his rights and interest in the +Star brand, provided that within one month +from date he persuades Ben Doubler to +leave Union county.’” He looked at Dakota +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +with a significant smile. “You see,” +he said, “that I am not particularly desirous +of being instrumental in causing Doubler’s +death—you have misjudged me.”</p> +<p>Dakota’s eyes met his with a glance of +perfect knowledge. His smile possessed a +subtly mocking quality—which was slightly +disconcerting to Langford.</p> +<p>“I reckon you’ll be an angel—give you +time,” he said. “I am accepting that +proposition, though,” he added. “I’ve +been wanting to leave here—I’ve got tired +of it. And”—he continued with a mysterious +smile—“if things turn out as I expect, +you’ll be glad to have me go.” He +rose from the bench. “Let’s write that +agreement,” he suggested.</p> +<p>They entered the cabin, and a few minutes +later Dakota sat again on the box in +the lee of the cabin wall, mending his saddle, +the signed agreement in his pocket. Smiling, +Langford rode the river trail, satisfied +with the result of his visit. Turning once—as +he reached the rise upon which Sheila +had halted that morning after leaving Dakota’s +cabin, Langford looked back. Dakota +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +was still busy with his saddle. Langford +urged his pony down the slope of the +rise and vanished from view. Then Dakota +ceased working on the saddle, drew out the +signed agreement and read it through many +times.</p> +<p>“That man,” he said finally, looking toward +the crest of the slope where Langford +had disappeared, “thinks he has convinced +me that I ought to kill my best friend. He +hasn’t changed a bit—not a damned bit!”</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='X_DUNCAN_ADDS_TWO_AND_TWO' id='X_DUNCAN_ADDS_TWO_AND_TWO'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>DUNCAN ADDS TWO AND TWO</h3> +</div> + +<p>Had Langford known that there had +been a witness to his visit to Dakota +he might not have ridden away +from the latter’s cabin so entirely satisfied +with the result of his interview.</p> +<p>Duncan had been much interested in +Langford’s differences with Doubler. He +had agitated the trouble, and he fully expected +Langford to take him into his confidence +should any aggressive movement be +contemplated. He had even expected to be +allowed to plan the details of the scheme +which would have as its object the downfall +of the nester, for thus he hoped to satisfy +his personal vengeance against the latter.</p> +<p>But since the interview with Doubler +at Doubler’s cabin, Langford had been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +strangely silent regarding his plans. Not +once had he referred to the nester, and his +silence had nettled Duncan. Langford had +ignored his hints, had returned monosyllabic +replies to his tentative questions, causing +the manager to appear to be an outsider +in an affair in which he felt a vital interest.</p> +<p>It was annoying, to say the least, and +Duncan’s nature rebelled against the slight, +whether intentional or accidental. He had +waited patiently until the morning following +his conversation with Langford about +Dakota, certain that the Double R owner +would speak, but when after breakfast the +next morning Langford had ridden away +without breaking his silence, the manager +had gone into the ranchhouse, secured his +field glasses, mounted his pony, and followed.</p> +<p>He kept discreetly in the rear, lingering +in the depressions, skirting the bases of the +hills, concealing himself in draws and behind +boulders—never once making the mistake +of appearing on the skyline. And +when Langford was sitting on the box in +front of Dakota’s cabin, the manager was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +deep into the woods that surrounded the +clearing where the cabin stood, watching +intently through his field glasses.</p> +<p>He saw Langford depart, remained after +his departure to see Dakota repeatedly read +the signed agreement. Of course, he was +entirely ignorant of what had transpired, +but there was little doubt in his mind that +the two had reached some sort of an understanding. +That their conversation and +subsequent agreement concerned Doubler +he had little doubt either, for fresh in his +mind was a recollection of his conversation +with Langford, distinguished by Langford’s +carefully guarded questions regarding +Dakota’s ability with the six-shooter. +He felt that Langford was deliberately +leaving him out of the scheme, whatever it +was.</p> +<p>Puzzled and raging inwardly over the +slight, Duncan did not return to the ranchhouse +that day and spent the night at one +of the line camps. The following day he +rode in to the ranchhouse to find that Langford +had gone out riding with Sheila. Morose, +sullen, Duncan again rode abroad, returning +with the dusk. In his conversation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +with Langford that night the Double R +owner made no reference to Doubler, and, +studying Sheila, Duncan thought she +seemed depressed.</p> +<p>During her ride that day with her father +Sheila had received a startling revelation of +his character. She had questioned him regarding +his treatment of Doubler, ending +with a plea for justice for the latter. For +the first time during all the time she had +known Langford she had seen an angry intolerance +in his eyes, and though his voice +had been as bland and smooth as ever, it +did not heal the wound which had been +made in her heart over the discovery that +he could feel impatient with her.</p> +<p>“My dear Sheila,” he said, “I should +regret to find that you are interested in my +business affairs.”</p> +<p>“Doubler declares that you are unjust,” +she persisted, determined to do her best to +avert the trouble that seemed impending.</p> +<p>“Doubler is an obstacle in the path of +progress and will get the consideration he +deserves,” he said shortly. “Please do not +meddle with what does not concern you.”</p> +<p>Thus had an idol which Sheila worshiped +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +been tumbled from its pedestal. Sheila surveyed +it, lying shattered at her feet, with +moist eyes. It might be restored, patched +so that it would resemble its original shape, +but never again would it appear the same in +her eyes. She had received a glimpse of her +father’s real character; she saw the merciless, +designing, real man stripped of the +polished veneer that she had admired; his +soul lay naked before her, seared and rendered +unlovely by the blackness of deceit +and trickery.</p> +<p>As the days passed, however, she collected +the fragments of the shattered idol and +began to replace them. Piece by piece she +fitted them together, cementing them with +her faith, so that in time the idol resembled +its original shape.</p> +<p>She had been too exacting, she told herself. +Men had ways of dealing with one +another which women could not understand. +Her ideas of justice were tempered with +mercy and pity; she allowed her heart to +map out her line of conduct toward her +fellow men, and as a consequence her sympathies +were broad and tender. In business, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +though, she supposed, it must be different. +There mind must rule. It was a +struggle in which the keenest wit and the +sharpest instinct counted, and in which the +emotion of mercy was subordinate to the +love of gain. And so in time she erected +her idol again and the cracks and seams in +it became almost invisible.</p> +<p>While she had been restoring her idol +there had been other things to occupy her +mind. A thin line divides tragedy from +comedy, and after the tragedy of discovering +her father’s real character Sheila longed +for something to take her mind out of the +darkness. A recollection of Duncan’s jealousy, +which he had exhibited on the day +that she had related the story of her rescue +by Dakota, still abided with her, and convinced +that she might secure diversion by +fanning the spark that she had discovered, +she began by inducing Duncan to ask her +to ride with him.</p> +<p>Sitting on the grass one day in the shade +of some fir-balsams on a slope several miles +down the river, Sheila looked at Duncan +with a smile. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span></p> +<p>“I believe that I am beginning to like +the country,” she said.</p> +<p>“I expected you would like it after you +were here a while. Everybody does. It +grows into one. If you ever go back East +you will never be contented—you’ll be +dreaming and longing. The West improves +on acquaintance, like the people.”</p> +<p>“Meaning?” she said, with a defiant +mockery so plain in her eyes that Duncan +drew a deep breath.</p> +<p>“Meaning that you ought to begin to +like us—the people,” he said.</p> +<p>“Perhaps I do like some of the people,” +she laughed.</p> +<p>“For instance,” he said, his face reddening +a little.</p> +<p>She looked at him with a taunting smile. +“I don’t believe that I like you—so very +well. You get too cross when things don’t +suit you.”</p> +<p>“I think you are mistaken,” he challenged. +“When have I been cross?”</p> +<p>Sheila laughed. “Do you remember the +night that I came home and told you and +father how Dakota had rescued me from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +the quicksand? Well,” she continued, noting +his nod and the frown which accompanied +it, “you were cross that night—almost +boorish. You moped and went off +to bed without saying good-night.”</p> +<p>It pleased Duncan to tell her that he +had forgotten if he had ever acted that way, +and she did not press him. And so a silence +fell between them.</p> +<p>“You said you were beginning to like +some of the people,” said Duncan presently. +“You don’t like me. Then who do you +like?”</p> +<p>“Well,” she said, appearing to meditate, +but in reality watching him closely so that +she might catch his gaze when he looked up. +“There’s Ben Doubler. He seems to be a +very nice old man. And”—Duncan looked +at her and she met his gaze fairly, her eyes +dancing with mischief—“and Dakota. He +is a character, don’t you think?”</p> +<p>Duncan frowned darkly and removed his +gaze from her face, directing it down into +the plain on the other side of the river. +What strange fatality had linked her sympathies +and admiration with his enemies? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +A rage which he dared not let her see seized +him, and he sat silent, clenching and unclenching +his hands.</p> +<p>She saw his condition and pressed him +without mercy.</p> +<p>“He <i>is</i> a character, isn’t he? An odd +one, but attractive?”</p> +<p>Duncan sneered. “He pulled you out of +the quicksand, of course. Anybody could +have done that, if they’d been around. I +reckon that’s what makes him ‘attractive’ +in your eyes. On the other hand, he put +Texas Blanca out of business. Does that +killing help to make him attractive?”</p> +<p>“Wasn’t Blanca his enemy. If you remember, +you told father and me that +Blanca sold him some stolen cattle. Then, +according to what I have heard of the story, +he met Blanca in Lazette, ordered him to +leave, and when he didn’t go he shot him. +I understand that that is the code in matters +of that sort—people have to take the +law in their own hands. But he gave +Blanca the opportunity to shoot first. +Wasn’t that fair?”</p> +<p>It seemed odd to her that she was defending +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +the man who had wronged her, yet +strangely enough she discovered that defending +him gave her a thrill of satisfaction, +though she assured herself that the satisfaction +came from the fact that she was +engaged in the task of arousing Duncan’s +jealousy.</p> +<p>“You’ve been inquiring about him, +then?” said Duncan, his face dark with +rage and hatred. “What I told you about +that calf deal is the story that Dakota himself +tells about it. A lot of people in this +country don’t believe Dakota’s story. They +believe what I believe, that Dakota and +Blanca were in partnership on that deal, +and that Dakota framed up that story +about Blanca selling out to him to avert +suspicion. It’s likely that they wised up to +the fact that we were on to them.”</p> +<p>“I believe you mentioned your suspicions +to Dakota himself, didn’t you? The +day you went over after the calves? You +had quite a talk with him about them, didn’t +you?” said Sheila, sweetly.</p> +<p>Duncan’s face whitened. “Who told +you that?” he demanded. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span></p> +<p>“And he told you that if you ever interfered +with him again, or that if he heard of +you repeating your suspicions to anyone, he +would do something to you—run you out +of the country, or something like that, didn’t +he?”</p> +<p>“Who told you that?” repeated Duncan.</p> +<p>“Doubler told me,” returned Sheila with +a smile.</p> +<p>Duncan’s face worked with impotent +wrath as he looked at her. “So Doubler’s +been gassing again?” he said with a sneer. +“Well, there’s never been any love lost between +Doubler and me, and so what he says +don’t amount to much.” He laughed oddly. +“It’s strange to think how thick you are +with Doubler,” he said. “I understand that +your dad and Doubler ain’t exactly on a +friendly footing, that your dad was trying +to buy him out and that he won’t sell. +There’s likely to be trouble, for your dad is +determined to get Doubler’s land.”</p> +<p>However, that was a subject upon which +Sheila did not care to dwell.</p> +<p>“I don’t think that I am interested in +that,” she said. “I presume that father is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +able to take care of his own affairs without +any assistance from me.”</p> +<p>Duncan’s eyes lighted with interest. Her +words showed that she was aware of Langford’s +differences with the nester. Probably +her father had told her—taking her +into his confidence while ignoring his manager. +Perhaps he had even told her of his +visit to Dakota; perhaps there had been +more than one visit and Sheila had accompanied +him. Undoubtedly, he told himself, +Sheila’s admiration for Dakota had resulted +from not one, but many, meetings. He +flushed at the thought, and was forced to +look away from Sheila for fear that she +might see the passion that flamed in his +eyes.</p> +<p>“You seen Dakota lately?” he questioned, +after he had regained sufficient control +of himself to be able to speak quietly.</p> +<p>“No.” Sheila was flecking some dust +from her skirts with her riding whip, and +her manner was one of absolute lack of interest.</p> +<p>“Then you ain’t been riding with your +father?” said Duncan. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span></p> +<p>“Some.” Sheila continued to brush the +dust from her skirts. After answering Duncan’s +question, however, she realized that +there had been a subtle undercurrent of +meaning in his voice, and she turned and +looked sharply at him.</p> +<p>“Why?” she demanded. “Do you mean +that father has visited Dakota?”</p> +<p>“I reckon I’m meaning just that.”</p> +<p>Sheila did not like the expression in Duncan’s +eyes, and her chin was raised a little +as she turned from him and gave her attention +to flecking the grass near her with the +lash of her riding whip.</p> +<p>“Father attends to his own business,” she +said with some coldness, for she resented +Duncan’s apparent desire to interfere. “I +told you that before. What he does in a +business way does not interest me.”</p> +<p>“No?” said Duncan mockingly. “Well, +he’s made some sort of a deal with Dakota!” +he snapped, aware of his lack of wisdom in +telling her this, but unable to control his resentment +over the slight which had been imposed +on him by Langford, and by her own +chilling manner, which seemed to emphasize +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +the fact that he had been left outside their +intimate councils.</p> +<p>“A deal?” said Sheila quickly, unable to +control her interest.</p> +<p>For a moment he did not answer. He +felt her gaze upon him, and he met it, smiling +mysteriously. Under the sudden necessity +of proving his statement, his thoughts +centered upon the conclusion which had resulted +from his suspicions—that Langford’s +visit to Dakota concerned Doubler. Equivocation +would have taken him safely away +from the pitfall into which his rash words +had almost plunged him, but he felt that +any evasion now would only bring scorn into +the eyes which he wished to see alight with +something else. Besides, here was an opportunity +to speak a derogatory word about +his enemy, and he could not resist—could +not throw it carelessly aside. There was a +venomous note in his voice when he finally +answered:</p> +<p>“The other day your father was speaking +to me about gun-men. I told him that Dakota +would do anything for money.”</p> +<p>A slow red appeared in Sheila’s cheeks, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +mounted to her temples, disappeared entirely +and was succeeded by a paleness. She +kept her gaze averted, and Duncan could +not see her eyes—they were turned toward +the slumberous plains that stretched away +into the distance on the other side of the +river. But Duncan knew that he had scored, +and was not bothered over the possibility of +there being little truth in his implied charge. +He watched her, gloating over her, certain +that at a stroke he had effectually eliminated +Dakota as a rival.</p> +<p>Sheila turned suddenly to him. “How +do you know that Dakota would do anything +like that?”</p> +<p>Duncan smiled as he saw her lips, straight +and white, and tightening coldly.</p> +<p>“How do I know?” he jeered. “How +does a man know anything in this country? +By using his eyes, of course. I’ve used +mine. I’ve watched Dakota for five years. +I’ve known all along that he isn’t on the +square—that he has been running his branding +iron on other folks’ cattle. I’ve told you +that he worked a crooked deal on me, and +then sent Blanca over the divide when he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +thought there was a chance of Blanca giving +the deal away. I am told that when he +met Blanca in the Red Dog Blanca told him +plainly that he didn’t know anything about +the calf deal. That shows how he treats his +friends. He’ll do anything for money.</p> +<p>“The other day I saw your father at his +cabin, talking to him. They had quite a +confab. Your father has had trouble with +Doubler—you know that. He has threatened +to run Doubler off the Two Forks. I +heard that myself. He wouldn’t try to run +Doubler off himself—that’s too dangerous +a business for him to undertake. Not wanting +to take the chance himself he hires someone +else. Who? Dakota’s the only gunman +around these parts. Therefore, your +dad goes to Dakota. He and Dakota signed +a paper—I saw Dakota reading it. I’ve +just put two and two together, and that’s +the result. I reckon I ain’t far out of the +way.”</p> +<p>Sheila laughed as she might have laughed +had someone told her that she herself had +plotted to murder Doubler—a laugh full of +scorn and mockery. Yet in her eyes, which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +were wide with horror, and in her face, which +was suddenly drawn and white, was proof +that Duncan’s words had hurt her mortally.</p> +<p>She was silent; she did not offer to defend +Dakota, for in her thoughts still lingered a +recollection of the scene of the shooting in +Lazette. And when she considered her +father’s distant manner toward her and +Ben Doubler’s grave prediction of trouble, +it seemed that perhaps Duncan was right. +Yet in spite of the shooting of Blanca and +the evil light which was now thrown on Dakota +through Duncan’s deductions, she felt +confident that Dakota would not become a +party to a plot in which the murder of a +man was deliberately planned. He had +wronged her and he had killed a man, but +at the quicksand crossing that day—despite +the rage which had been in her heart against +him—she had studied him and had become +convinced that behind his recklessness, back +of the questionable impulses that seemed at +times to move him, there lurked qualities +which were wholly admirable, and which +could be felt by anyone who came in contact +with him. Certainly those qualities +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +which she had seen had not been undiscovered +by Duncan—and others.</p> +<p>She remembered now that on a former +occasion the manager had practically admitted +his fear of Dakota, and then there +was his conduct on that day when she had +asked him to return Dakota’s pony. Duncan’s +manner then had seemed to indicate +that he feared Dakota—at the least did not +like him. Ben Doubler had given her a different +version of the trouble between Dakota +and Duncan; how Duncan had accused +Dakota of stealing the Double R calves, and +how in the presence of Duncan’s own men +Dakota had forced him to apologize. Taken +altogether, it seemed that Duncan’s present +suspicions were the result of his dislike, or +fear, of Dakota. Convinced of this, her +eyes flashed with contempt when she looked +at the manager.</p> +<p>“I believe you are lying,” she said coldly. +“You don’t like Dakota. But I have faith +in him—in his manhood. I don’t believe +that any man who has the courage to force +another man to apologize to him in the face +of great odds, would, or could, be so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +entirely base as to plan to murder a +poor, unoffending old man in cold blood. +Perhaps you are not lying,” she concluded +with straight lips, “but the very least that +can be said for you is that you have a lurid +imagination!”</p> +<p>In Duncan’s gleaming, shifting eyes, in +the lips which were tensed over his teeth in +a snarl, she could see the bitterness that was +in his heart over the incident to which she +had just referred.</p> +<p>“Wait,” he said smiling evilly. “You’ll +know more about Dakota before long.”</p> +<p>Sheila rose and walked to her pony, +mounting the animal and riding slowly away +from the river. She did not see the queer +smile on Duncan’s face as she rode, but looking +back at the distance of a hundred yards, +she saw that he did not intend to follow her. +He was still sitting where she had left him, +his back to her, his face turned toward the +plains which spread away toward Dakota’s +cabin, twenty miles down the river.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XI_A_PARTING_AND_A_VISIT' id='XI_A_PARTING_AND_A_VISIT'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>A PARTING AND A VISIT</h3> +</div> + +<p>The problem which filled Duncan’s +mind as he sat on the edge of the +slope overlooking the river was a +three-sided one. To reach a conclusion the +emotions of fear, hatred, and jealousy would +have to be considered in the light of their +relative importance.</p> +<p>There was, for example, his fear of Dakota, +which must be taken into account when +he meditated any action prompted by his +jealousy, and his fear of Dakota was a +check on his desires, a damper which must +control the heat of his emotions. He might +hate Dakota, but his fear of him would prevent +his taking any action which might expose +his own life to risk. On the other hand, +jealousy urged him to accept any risk; it +kept telling him over and over that he was +a fool to allow Dakota to live. But Duncan +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +knew better than to attempt an open +clash with Dakota; each time that he had +looked into Dakota’s eyes he had seen there +something which told him plainer than +words of his own inferiority—that he would +have no chance in a man-to-man encounter +with him. And his latest experience with +Dakota had proved that.</p> +<p>However, Duncan’s character would not +permit him to concede defeat, and his revenge +was not a thing to be considered +lightly. Therefore, though he sat for a long +time on the slope, meditating over his problem, +in the end he smiled. It was not a good +smile to see, for his eyes were alight with a +crafty, designing gleam, and there was a +cruel curve in the lines of his lips. When +he finally mounted his pony and rode away +from the slope he was whistling.</p> +<p>During the next few days he did not see +much of Sheila, for he avoided the ranchhouse +as much as possible. He rode out with +Langford many times, and though he covertly +questioned the Double R owner concerning +the affair with Doubler he could +gain no satisfying information. Langford’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +reticence further aggravated the passions +which rioted in his heart, and finally one +afternoon when they rode up to the ranchhouse +his curiosity could be held in check no +longer, and he put the blunt question:</p> +<p>“What have you done about Doubler?”</p> +<p>Langford’s shifting eyes rested for the +fraction of a second on the face of his manager, +and then the old, bland smile came into +his own and he answered smoothly: “Nothing.”</p> +<p>“I have been thinking,” said Duncan +carelessly, but with a sharp side glance at +his employer, “that it wouldn’t be a half +bad idea to set a gunman on Doubler—a +man like Dakota, for instance.”</p> +<p>The manager saw Langford’s lips +straighten a little, and his eyes flashed with +a sudden fire. The expression on Langford’s +face strengthened the conviction already +in Duncan’s mind concerning the motive +of his employer’s visit to Dakota.</p> +<p>“I don’t think I care to have any dealings +with Dakota,” said Langford shortly.</p> +<p>Duncan’s eyes blazed again. “I reckon +if you’d go talk to him,” he persisted, turning +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +his head so that Langford could not see +the suppressed rage in his eyes, “you might +be able to make a deal with him.”</p> +<p>“I don’t wish to deal with him. I have +decided not to bother Doubler at present. +And I have no desire to talk with Dakota. +Frankly, my dear Duncan, I don’t like the +man.”</p> +<p>“You been in the habit of forming opinions +of men you’ve never talked to?” said +Duncan. He could not keep the sneer out +of his voice.</p> +<p>Langford noticed it and laughed softly.</p> +<p>“It is my recollection that a certain man +of my acquaintance advised me at length of +Dakota’s shortcomings,” he said significantly. +“For me to talk to Dakota after +that would be to consider this man’s words +valueless. I will have nothing to do with +Dakota. That is,” he added, “unless you +have altered your opinion of him.”</p> +<p>Duncan did not reply, and he said nothing +more to Langford on the subject, but he +had discovered that for some reason Langford +had chosen to keep the knowledge of +his visit to Dakota secret, and Duncan’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +suspicions that the visit concerned Doubler +became a conviction. Filled with resentment +over Langford’s attitude toward him, +and with his mind definitely fixed upon the +working out of his problem, Duncan decided +to visit Doubler.</p> +<p>He chose a day when Langford had ridden +away to a distant cow camp, and as +when he was following the Double R owner, +he did not ride the beaten trail but kept behind +the ridges and in the depressions, and +when he came within sight of Doubler’s +cabin he halted to reconnoiter. A swift survey +of the corral showed him a rangy, piebald +pony, which he knew to belong to Dakota. +As the animal had on a bridle and a +saddle he surmised that Dakota’s visit would +not be of long duration, and having no desire +to visit Doubler in the presence of his +rival, he shunted his own horse off the edge +of a sand dune and down into the bed of a +dry arroyo. Urging the animal along this, +he presently reached a sand flat on whose +edge arose a grove of fir-balsam and cottonwood.</p> +<p>For an hour, deep in the grove, he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +watched the cabin, and at length he saw Dakota +come out; saw a smile on his face; +heard him laugh. His lips writhed at the +sound, and he listened intently to catch the +conversation which was carried on between +the two men, but the distance was too great. +However, he was able to judge from the actions +of the two that their relations were decidedly +friendly, and this discovery immediately +raised a doubt in his mind as to the +correctness of his deductions.</p> +<p>Yet the doubt did not seriously affect his +determination to carry out the plan he had +in mind, and when a few moments after +coming out of the cabin, Dakota departed +down the river trail, Duncan slowly rode +out of the grove and approached the cabin.</p> +<p>Doubler stood in the open doorway, looking +after Dakota, and when the latter finally +disappeared around a bend in the river the +nester turned and saw Duncan. Instantly +he stepped inside the cabin door, reappearing +immediately, holding a rifle. Duncan +continued to ride forward, raising one hand, +with the palm toward Doubler, as a sign of +the peacefulness of his intentions. The latter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +permitted him to approach, though he +held the rifle belligerently.</p> +<p>“I want to talk,” said Duncan, when he +had come near enough to make himself +heard.</p> +<p>“Pull up right where you are, then,” +commanded Doubler. He was silent while +Duncan drew his pony to a halt and sat motionless +in the saddle looking at him. Then +his voice came with a truculent snap:</p> +<p>“You alone?”</p> +<p>Duncan nodded.</p> +<p>“Where’s your new boss?” sarcastically +inquired Doubler. “Ain’t you scared he’ll +git lost—runnin’ around alone without anyone +to look after him?”</p> +<p>“I ain’t his keeper,” returned Duncan +shortly.</p> +<p>Doubler laughed unbelievingly. “You +was puttin’ in a heap of your time bein’ his +keeper, the last I saw of you,” he declared +coldly.</p> +<p>“Mebbe I was. We’ve had a falling +out.” The venom in Duncan’s voice was +not at all pretended. “He’s double crossed +me.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span></p> +<p>“Double crossed you?” There was disbelief +and suspicion in Doubter’s laugh. +“How’s he done that? I reckoned you was +too smart for anyone to do that to you?” +The sarcasm in this last brought a dark red +into Duncan’s face, but he successfully concealed +his resentment and smiled.</p> +<p>“That’s all right,” he said; “I’ve got +more than that coming from you. I’m telling +you about what he done to me if you +ain’t got any objections to me getting off +my horse.”</p> +<p>“Tell me from where you are.” In spite +of the coldness in the nester’s voice there +was interest in his eyes. “Mebbe you an’ +him have had a fallin’ out, but I ain’t takin’ +any chances on you bein’ my friend—not a +durned chance.”</p> +<p>“That’s right. I don’t blame you for not +wanting to take a chance, and I’m not pretending +to be your friend. And I sure ain’t +any friendly to Langford. He’s double +crossed me, but I ain’t telling how he done +it—that’s between him and me. But I want +to tell you something that will interest you +a whole lot. It’s about some guy which is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +trying to double cross you. To prove that +I ain’t thinking to plug you when you ain’t +looking I’m leaving my gun here.” He +drew out his six-shooter and stuck it behind +his slicker, dismounted, and threw the reins +over the pony’s head.</p> +<p>In silence Doubler suffered him to approach, +though he kept his rifle ready in his +hand and his eyes still continued to wear a +belligerent expression.</p> +<p>“You and me ain’t been what you might +call friendly for a long time,” offered Duncan +when he had halted a few feet from +Doubler. “We’ve had words, but I’ve +never tried to take any mean advantage of +you—which I might have done if I’d wanted +to.” He smiled ingratiatingly.</p> +<p>“We ain’t goin’ to go over what’s happened +between us,” declared Doubler coldly. +“We’re lettin’ that go by. If you’ll stick +to the palaver that you spoke about mebbe +we’ll be able to git along for a minute or +two. Meanwhile, you’ll excuse me if I keep +this here gun in shape for you if you try any +monkey business.”</p> +<p>Duncan masked his dislike of Doubler +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +under a deprecatory smile. “That’s right,” +he agreed. “We’ll let what’s happened pass +without talking about it. What’s between +us now is something different. I’ve never +pretended to be your friend, and I’m not +pretending to be your friend now. But +I’ve always been square with you, and I’m +square now. Can you say that about him?” +He jerked his thumb in the direction of the +river trail, on which Dakota had vanished +some time before.</p> +<p>“Him?” inquired Doubler. “You mean +Dakota?” He caught Duncan’s nod and +smiled slowly. “I reckon you’re some off +your range,” he said. “There ain’t no comparin’ +Dakota to you—he’s always been my +friend.”</p> +<p>“A man’s got a friend one day and he’s +an enemy the next,” said Duncan mysteriously.</p> +<p>“Meanin’?”</p> +<p>“Meaning that Dakota ain’t so much of +a friend as you think he is.”</p> +<p>Doubler’s lips grew straight and hard. +“I reckon that ends the palaver,” he said +coldly, while he fingered the rifle in his hand +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +significantly. “If that’s what you come +for you can be hittin’ the breeze right back +to the Double R. I’m givin’ you——”</p> +<p>“You’re traveling too fast,” remonstrated +Duncan, a hoarseness coming into +his voice. “You’ll talk different when you +hear what I’ve got to say. I reckon you +know that Langford ain’t any friendly to +you?”</p> +<p>“I don’t see—” began Doubler.</p> +<p>He was interrupted by Duncan’s harsh +laugh. “Of course you don’t see,” he said. +“I’ve come over here to make you open your +eyes. Langford ain’t no friend of yours, +and I reckon that you wouldn’t consider +any man your friend which sets in his cabin +a couple of hours talking to Langford, about +you?”</p> +<p>“Meanin’ that Langford’s been to see +Dakota?” Doubler’s voice was suddenly +harsh and his eyes glinted with suspicion. +Certain that he had scored, Duncan turned +and smiled into the distance. When he +again faced Doubler his face wore an expression +of sympathy.</p> +<p>“When a man’s been a friend to you and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +you find that he’s going to double cross you, +it’s apt to make you feel pretty mean,” he +said. “I’m allowing that. But there’s a +lot of us get double crossed. I got it and +I’m seeing that they don’t ring in any cold +deck on you.”</p> +<p>“How do you know Dakota’s tryin’ to +do that?” demanded Doubler.</p> +<p>Duncan laughed. “I’ve kept my eyes +open. Also, I’ve been listening right hard. +I wasn’t so far away when Langford went +to Dakota’s shack, and I heard considerable +of what they said about you.”</p> +<p>Doubler’s interest was now intense; he +spoke eagerly: “What did they say?”</p> +<p>“I reckon you ought to be able to guess +what they said,” said Duncan with a crafty +smile. “I reckon you know that Langford +wants your land mighty bad, don’t you? +And you won’t sell. Didn’t he tell you in +front of me that he was going to make +trouble for you? He wants me to make it, +though; he wants me to set the boys on you. +But I won’t do it. Then he shuts up like a +clam and don’t say anything more to me +about it. He saw Dakota send Blanca over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +the divide and he’s some impressed by his +shooting. He figures that if Dakota puts +one man out of business he’ll put another +out.”</p> +<p>“Meanin’ that Langford’s hired Dakota +to look for me?” Doubler’s eyes were +gleaming brightly.</p> +<p>“You’re some keen, after all,” taunted +Duncan.</p> +<p>Doubler’s jaws snapped. “You’re a +liar!” he said; “Dakota wouldn’t do it!”</p> +<p>“Maybe I’m a liar,” said Duncan, his +face paling but his voice low and quiet. He +was not surprised that Doubler should exhibit +emotion over the charge that his friend +was planning to murder him, yet he knew +that the suspicion once established in Doubler’s +mind would soon grow to the stature of +a conviction.</p> +<p>“Maybe I’m a liar,” repeated Duncan. +“But if you’ll use your brain a little you’ll +see that things look bad for you. Dakota’s +been here. Did he tell you about Langford +coming to see him? I reckon not,” he added +as he caught Doubler’s blank stare; “he’d +likely not tell you about it. But I reckon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +that if he was your friend he’d tell you. I +reckon you told him about Langford wanting +your land—about him telling you he’d +make things hot for you?”</p> +<p>Doubler nodded silently, and Duncan +continued. “Well,” he said, with a short +laugh, “I’ve told you, and it’s up to you. +They were talking about you, and if Dakota’s +your friend, as you’re claiming him +to be, he’d have told you what they was talking +about—if it wasn’t what I say it was—him +knowing how Langford feels toward +you. And they didn’t only talk. Langford +wrote something on a paper and gave it to +Dakota. I don’t know what he wrote, but +it seemed to tickle Dakota a heap. Leastways, +he done a heap of laffing over it. +Likely Langford’s promised him a heap of +dust to do the job. Mebbe he’s your friend, +but if I was you I wouldn’t give him no +chance to say I drawed first.”</p> +<p>Doubler placed his rifle down and passed +a hand slowly and hesitatingly over his forehead. +“I don’t like to think that of Dakota,” +he said, faith and suspicion battling +for supremacy. “Dakota just left here; he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +acted a heap friendly—as usual—mebbe +more so.”</p> +<p>“I reckon that when a man goes gunning +for another man he don’t advertise a whole +lot,” observed Duncan insinuatingly.</p> +<p>“No,” agreed Doubler, staring blankly +into the distance where he had last seen his +supposed friend, “a man don’t generally do +a heap of advertisin’ when he’s out lookin’ for +a man.” He sat for a time staring straight +ahead, and then he suddenly looked up, his +eyes filled with a savage fierceness. “How +do I know you ain’t lyin’ to me?” he demanded, +glaring at Duncan, his hands +clenched in an effort to control himself.</p> +<p>Duncan’s eyes did not waver. “I reckon +you <i>don’t</i> know whether I’m lying,” he returned, +showing his teeth in a slight smile. +“But I reckon you’re twenty-one and ought +to have your eye-teeth cut. Anyway, you +ought to know that a man like Langford, +who’s wanting your land, don’t go to talk +with a man like Dakota, who’s some on the +shoot, for nothing. How do you know that +Langford and Dakota ain’t friends? How +do you know but that they’ve been friends +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +back East? Do you know where Dakota +came from? Mebbe he’s from the East, too. +I’m telling you one thing,” added Duncan, +and now his voice was filled with passion, +“Dakota and Sheila Langford are pretty +thick. She makes believe that she don’t like +him, but he saved her from a quicksand, and +she’s been running with him considerable. +Takes his part, too; does it, but she makes +you believe that she don’t like him. I reckon +she’s pretty foxy.”</p> +<p>Doubler’s memory went back to a conversation +he had had with Sheila in which +Dakota had been the subject under discussion. +He remembered that she had shown +a decided coldness, suggesting by her manner +that she and Dakota were not on the +best of terms. Could it be that she had +merely pretended this coldness? Could it +be that she was concerned in the plot against +him, that she and her father and Dakota +were combined against him for the common +purpose of taking his life?</p> +<p>He was convinced that any such suspicion +against Sheila must be unjust, for he had +studied her face many times and was certain +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +that there was not a line of deceit in it. +And yet, was it not odd that, when he had +told her of the trouble between him and her +father, she had not immediately taken her +parent’s side? To be sure, she had told him +that Langford was merely her stepfather, +but could not that statement also have been +a misleading one? And even if Langford +were only her stepfather, would she not +have felt it her duty to align herself with +him?</p> +<p>“I reckon you know a heap about Dakota, +don’t you?” came Duncan’s voice, +breaking into Doubler’s reflections. “You +know, for instance, that Dakota came here +from Dakota—or anyway, he says he came +here from there. We’ll say you know that. +But what do you know about Langford? +Didn’t he tell you that he was going to ‘get’ +you?”</p> +<p>Duncan turned his back to Doubler and +walked to his pony. He drew out his six-shooter, +stuck it into its holster, and placed +one foot in a stirrup, preparatory to mounting. +Then he turned and spoke gravely to +Doubler. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></p> +<p>“I’ve done all I could,” he said. “You +know how you stand and the rest of it is up +to you. You can go on, letting Dakota and +Sheila pretend to be friendly to you, and +some day you’ll get wise awful sudden—when +it’s too late. Or, you can wise up now +and fix Dakota before he gets a chance at +you. I reckon that’s all. You can’t say +that I didn’t put you wise to the game.”</p> +<p>He swung into the saddle and urged the +pony toward the crossing. Looking back +from a crest of a rise on the other side of the +river, he saw Doubler still standing in the +doorway, his head bowed in his hands. Duncan +smiled, his lips in cold, crafty curves, +for he had planted the seed of suspicion and +was satisfied that it would presently flourish +and grow until it would finally accomplish +the destruction of his rival, Dakota.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XII_A_MEETING_ON_THE_RIVER_TRAIL' id='XII_A_MEETING_ON_THE_RIVER_TRAIL'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>A MEETING ON THE RIVER TRAIL</h3> +</div> + +<p>About ten o’clock in the morning of +a perfect day Sheila left the Double +R ranchhouse for a ride to the Two +Forks to visit Doubler. This new world +into which she had come so hopefully had +lately grown very lonesome. It had promised +much and it had given very little. The +country itself was not to blame for the state +of her mind, though, she told herself as she +rode over the brown, sun-scorched grass of +the river trail, it was the people. They—even +her father—seemed to hold aloof from +her.</p> +<p>It seemed that she would never be able to +fit in anywhere. She was convinced that the +people with whom she was forced to associate +were entirely out of accord with the +principles of life which had been her guide—they +appeared selfish, cold, and distant. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +Duncan’s sister, the only woman beside herself +in the vicinity, had discouraged all her +little advances toward a better acquaintance, +betraying in many ways a disinclination +toward those exchanges of confidence +which are the delight of every normal +woman. Sheila had become aware very soon +that there could be no hope of gaining her +friendship or confidence and so of late she +had ceased her efforts.</p> +<p>Of course, she could not attempt to cultivate +an acquaintance with any of the cowboys—she +already knew <i>one</i> too well, and +the knowledge of her relationship to him +had the effect of dulling her desire for seeking +the company of the others.</p> +<p>For Duncan she had developed a decided +dislike which amounted almost to hatred. +She had been able to see quite early in their +acquaintance the defects of his character, +and though she had played on his jealousy +in a spirit of fun, she had been careful to +make him see that anything more than mere +acquaintance was impossible. At least that +was what she had tried to do, and she +doubted much whether she had succeeded. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span></p> +<p>Doubler was the only one who had betrayed +any real friendship for her, and to +him, in her lonesomeness, she turned, in +spite of the warning he had given her. She +had visited him once since the day following +her father’s visit, and he had received her +with his usual cordiality, but she had been +able to detect a certain constraint in his manner +which had caused her to determine to +stay away from the Two Forks. But this +morning she felt that she must go somewhere, +and she selected Doubler’s cabin.</p> +<p>Since that day when on the edge of the +butte overlooking the river Duncan had +voiced his suspicions that her father had +planned to remove Doubler, Sheila had felt +more than ever the always widening gulf +that separated her from her parent. From +the day on which he had become impatient +with her when she had questioned him concerning +his intentions with regard to Doubler +he had treated her in much the manner +that he always treated her, though it had +seemed to her that there was something +lacking; there was a certain strained civility +in his manner, a veneer which smoothed over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +the breach of trust which his attitude that +day had created.</p> +<p>Many times, watching him, Sheila had +wondered why she had never been able to +peer through the mask of his imperturbability +at the real, unlovely character it concealed. +She believed it was because she had +always trusted him and had not taken the +trouble to try to uncover his real character. +She had tried for a long time to fight down +the inevitable, growing estrangement, telling +herself that she had been, and was, mistaken +in her estimate of his character since +the day he had told her not to meddle with +his affairs, and she had nearly succeeded in +winning the fight when Duncan had again +destroyed her faith with the story of her +father’s visit to Dakota.</p> +<p>Duncan had added two and two, he had +told her when furnishing her with the +threads out of which he had constructed the +fabric of his suspicions, and she was compelled +to acknowledge that they seemed sufficiently +strong. Contemplation of the situation, +however, had convinced her that Dakota +was partly to blame, and her anger +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +against him—greatly softened since the rescue +at the quicksand—flared out again.</p> +<p>Two weeks had passed since Duncan had +told her of his suspicions, and they had been +two weeks of constant worry and dread to +her.</p> +<p>Unable to stand the suspense longer she +had finally decided to seek out Dakota to +attempt to confirm Duncan’s story of her +father’s visit and to plead with Dakota to +withhold his hand. But first she would see +Doubler.</p> +<p>The task of talking to Dakota about anything +was not to her liking, but she compromised +with her conscience by telling herself +that she owed it to herself to prevent +the murder of Doubler—that if the nester +should be killed with her in possession of +the plan for his taking off, and able to lift a +hand in protest or warning, she would be as +guilty as her father or Dakota.</p> +<p>As she rode she could not help contrasting +Dakota’s character to those of her father +and Duncan. She eliminated Duncan immediately, +as being not strong enough to +compare either favorably or unfavorably +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +with either of the other two. And, much +against her will, she was compelled to admit +that with all his shortcomings Dakota +made a better figure than her father. But +there was little consolation for her in this +comparison, for she bitterly assured herself +that there was nothing attractive in either. +Both had wronged her—Dakota deliberately +and maliciously; her father had placed the +bar of a cold civility between her and himself, +and she could no longer go to him with +her confidences. She had lost his friendship, +and he had lost her respect.</p> +<p>Of late she had speculated much over Dakota. +That day at the quicksand crossing +he had seemed to be a different man from +the one who had stood with revolver in hand +before the closed door of his cabin, giving +her a choice of two evils. For one thing, +she was no longer afraid of him; in his treatment +of her at the crossing he had not appeared +as nearly so forbidding as formerly, +had been almost attractive to her, in those +moments when she could forget the injury +he had done her. Those moments had been +few, to be sure, but during them she had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +caught flashes of the real Dakota, and +though she fought against admiring him, +she knew that deep in her heart lingered an +emotion which must be taken into account. +He had really done her no serious injury, +nothing which would not be undone through +the simple process of the law, and in his +manner on the day of the rescue there had +been much respect, and in spite of the mocking +levity with which he had met her reproaches +she felt that he felt some slight remorse +over his action.</p> +<p>For a time she forgot to think about Dakota, +becoming lost in contemplation of the +beauty of the country. Sweeping away +from the crest of the ridge on which she was +riding, it lay before her, basking in the warm +sunlight of the morning, wild and picturesque, +motionless, silent—as quiet and +peaceful as might have been that morning +on which, his work finished, the Creator had +surveyed the new world with a satisfied eye.</p> +<p>She had reached a point about a mile +from Doubler’s cabin, still drinking in the +beauty that met her eyes on every hand, +when an odd sound broke the perfect quiet. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span></p> +<p>Suddenly alert, she halted her pony and +listened.</p> +<p>The sound had been strangely like a pistol +shot, though louder, she decided, as she +listened to its echo reverberating in the adjacent +hills. It became fainter, and finally +died away, and she sat for a long time motionless +in the saddle, listening, but no other +sound disturbed the solemn quiet that surrounded +her.</p> +<p>It seemed to her that the sound had come +from the direction of Doubler’s cabin, but +she was not quite certain, knowing how difficult +it was to determine the direction of +sound in so vast a stretch of country.</p> +<p>She ceased to speculate, and once more +gave her attention to the country, urging +her pony forward, riding down the slope +of the ridge to the level of the river trail.</p> +<p>Fifteen minutes later, still holding the +river trail, she saw a horseman approaching, +and long before he came near enough +for her to distinguish his features she knew +the rider for Dakota. He was sitting carelessly +in the saddle, one leg thrown over +the pommel, smoking a cigarette, and when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +he saw her he threw the latter away, doffed +his broad hat, and smiled gravely at her.</p> +<p>“Were you shooting?” she questioned, +aware that this was an odd greeting, but +eager to have the mystery of that lone shot +cleared up.</p> +<p>“I reckon I ain’t been shooting—lately,” +he returned. “It must have been Doubler. +I heard it myself. I’ve just left Doubler, +and he was cleaning his rifle. He must +have been trying it. I do that myself, often, +after I’ve cleaned mine, just to make +sure it’s right.” He narrowed his eyes +whimsically at her. “So you’re riding the +fiver trail again?” he said. “I thought +you’d be doing it.”</p> +<p>“Why?” she questioned, defiantly.</p> +<p>“Well, for one thing, there’s a certain +fascination about a place where one has +been close to cashing in—I expect that when +we’ve been in such a place we like to come +back and look at it just to see how near we +came to going over the divide. And there’s +another reason why I expected to see you +on the river trail again. You forgot to +thank me for pulling you out.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span></p> +<p>He deserved thanks for that, she knew. +But there were in his voice and eyes the +same subtle mockery which had marked his +manner that other time, and as before she +experienced a feeling of deep resentment. +Why could he not have shown some evidence +of remorse for his crime against her? +She believed that had he done so now she +might have found it in her heart to go a +little distance toward forgiving him. But +there was only mockery in his voice and +words and her resentment against him grew. +Mingling with it, moreover, was the bitterness +which had settled over her within the +last few days. It found expression in her +voice when she answered him:</p> +<p>“This country is full of—of savages!”</p> +<p>“Indians, you mean, I reckon? Well, +no, there are none around here—excepting +over near Fort Union, on the reservation.” +He drawled hatefully and regarded her +with a mild smile.</p> +<p>“I mean white savages!” she declared +spitefully.</p> +<p>His smile grew broader, and then slowly +faded and he sat quiet, studying her face. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +The silence grew painful; she moved uneasily +under his direct gaze and a dash of +color swept into her cheeks. Then he spoke +quietly.</p> +<p>“You been seeing white savages?”</p> +<p>“Yes!” venomously.</p> +<p>“Not around here?” The hateful mockery +of that drawl!</p> +<p>“I am talking to one,” she said, her eyes +blazing with impotent anger.</p> +<p>“I thought you was meaning me,” he +said, without resentment. “I reckon I’ve +got it coming to me. But at the same time +that isn’t exactly the way to talk to +your——” He hesitated and smiled oddly, +apparently aware that he had made a mistake +in referring to his crime against her. +He hastened to repair it. “Your rescuer,” +he corrected.</p> +<p>However, she saw through the artifice, +and the bitterness in her voice grew more +pronounced. “It is needless for you to remind +me of our relationship,” she said; “I +am not likely to forget.”</p> +<p>“Have you told your father yet?”</p> +<p>In his voice was the quiet scorn and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +peculiar, repressed venom which she had detected +when he had referred to her father +during that other occasion at the crossing. +It mystified her, and yet within the past few +days she had felt this scorn herself and knew +that it was not remarkable. Undoubtedly +he, having had much experience with men, +had been able to see through Langford’s +mask and knew him for what he was. For +the first time in her life she experienced a +sensation of embarrassed guilt over hearing +her name linked with Langford’s, and she +looked defiantly at Dakota.</p> +<p>“I have not told him,” she said. “I +won’t tell him. I told you that before—I +do not care to undergo the humiliation of +hearing my name mentioned in the same +breath with yours. And if you do not already +know it, I want to tell you that David +Langford is not my father; my real father +died a long time ago, and Langford is only +my stepfather.”</p> +<p>A sudden moisture was in her eyes and +she did not see Dakota start, did not observe +the queer pallor that spread over his +face, failed to detect the odd light in his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +eyes. However, she heard his voice—sharp +in tone and filled with genuine astonishment.</p> +<p>“Your stepfather?” He had spurred +his pony beside hers and looking up she saw +that his face had suddenly grown stern and +grim. “Do you mean that?” he demanded +half angrily. “Why didn’t you tell me +that before? Why didn’t you tell me when—the +night I married you?”</p> +<p>“Would it have made any difference to +you?” she said bitterly. “Does it make +any difference now? You have treated me +like a savage; you are treating me like one +now. I—I haven’t any friends at all,” she +continued, her voice breaking slightly, as +she suddenly realized her entire helplessness +before the combined evilness of Duncan, her +father, and the man who sat on his pony +beside her. A sob shook her, and her hands +went to her face, covering her eyes.</p> +<p>She sat there for a time, shuddering, and +watching her closely, Dakota’s face grew +slowly pale, and grim, hard lines came into +his lips.</p> +<p>“I know what Duncan’s friendship +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +amounts to,” he said harshly. “But isn’t +your stepfather your friend?”</p> +<p>“My friend?” She echoed his words +with a hopeless intonation that closed Dakota’s +teeth like a vise. “I don’t know what +has come over him,” she continued, looking +up at Dakota, her eyes filled with wonder for +the sympathy which she saw in his face and +voice; “he has changed since he came out +here; he is so selfish and heartless.”</p> +<p>“What’s he been doing? Hurting you?” +She did not detect the anger in his voice, for +he had kept it so low that she scarcely heard +the words.</p> +<p>“Hurting me? No; he has not done anything +to me. Don’t you know?” she said +scornfully, certain that he was mocking her +again—for how could his interest be genuine +when he was a party to the plot to murder +Doubler? Yet perhaps not—maybe +Duncan <i>had</i> been lying. Determined to +get to the bottom of the affair as quickly +as possible, Sheila continued rapidly, her +scorn giving way to eagerness. “Don’t you +know?” And this time her voice was almost +a plea. “What did father visit you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +for? Wasn’t it about Doubler? Didn’t he +hire you to—to kill him?”</p> +<p>She saw his lips tighten strangely, his +face grow pale, his eyes flash with some mysterious +emotion, and she knew in an instant +that he was guilty—guilty as her father!</p> +<p>“Oh!” she said, and the scorn came into +her voice again. “Then it is true! You +and my father have conspired to murder an +inoffensive old man! You—you cowards!”</p> +<p>He winced, as though he had received an +unexpected blow in the face, but almost immediately +he smiled—a hard, cold, sneering +smile which chilled her.</p> +<p>“Who has been telling you this?” The +question came slowly, without the slightest +trace of excitement.</p> +<p>“Duncan told me.”</p> +<p>“Duncan?” There was much contempt +in his voice. “Not your father?”</p> +<p>She shook her head negatively, wondering +at his cold composure. No wonder her +father had selected him!</p> +<p>He laughed mirthlessly. “So that’s the +reason Doubler was so friendly to his rifle +this morning?” he said, as though her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +words had explained a mystery which had +been puzzling him. “Doubler and me have +been friends for a long time. But this +morning while I was talking to him he kept +his rifle beside him all the time. He must +have heard from someone that I was gunning +for him.”</p> +<p>“Then you haven’t been hired to kill +him?”</p> +<p>He smiled at her eagerness, but spoke +gravely and with an earnestness which she +could not help but feel. “Miss Sheila,” +he said, “there isn’t money enough in ten +counties like this to make me kill Doubler.” +His lips curled with a quiet sarcasm. “You +are like a lot of other people in this country,” +he added. “Because I put Blanca +away they think I am a professional gunman. +But I want <i>you</i>”—he placed a significant +emphasis on the word—“to understand +that there wasn’t any other way to +deal with Blanca. By coming back here +after selling me that stolen Star stock and +refusing to admit the deed in the presence +of other people—even denying it and accusing +me—he forced me to take the step I did +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +with him. Even then, I gave him his +chance. That he didn’t take it isn’t my +fault.</p> +<p>“I suppose I look pretty black to you, +because I treated you like I did. But it +was partly your fault, too. Maybe that’s +mysterious to you, but it will have to stay a +mystery. I had an idea in my head that +night—and something else. I’ve found +something out since that makes me feel a lot +sorry. If I had known what I know now, +that wouldn’t have happened to you—I’ve +got my eyes open now.”</p> +<p>Their ponies were very close together, +and leaning over suddenly he placed both +hands on her shoulders and gazed into her +eyes, his own flashing with a strange light. +She did not try to escape his hands, for she +felt that his sincerity warranted the action.</p> +<p>“I’ve treated you mean, Sheila,” he said; +“about as mean as a man could treat a +woman. I am sorry. I want you to believe +that. And maybe some day—when +this business is over—you’ll understand and +forgive me.”</p> +<p>“This business?” Sheila drew back and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +looked at him wonderingly. “What do +you mean?”</p> +<p>There was no mirth in his laugh as he +dropped his hands to his sides. Her question +had brought about a return of that +mocking reserve which she could not penetrate. +Apparently he would let her no farther +into the mystery whose existence his +words had betrayed. He had allowed her +to get a glimpse of his inner self; had shown +her that he was not the despicable creature +she had thought him; had apparently been +about to take her into his confidence. And +she had felt a growing sympathy for him +and had been prepared to meet him half +way in an effort to settle their differences, +but she saw that the opportunity was gone—was +hidden under the cloak of mystery +which had been about him from the beginning +of their acquaintance.</p> +<p>“This Doubler business,” he answered, +and she nibbled impatiently at her lips, +knowing that he had meant something else.</p> +<p>“That’s evasion,” she said, looking +straight at him, hoping that he would relent +and speak. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span></p> +<p>“Is it?” In his unwavering eyes she saw +a glint of grim humor. “Well, that’s the +answer. I am not going to kill Doubler—if +it will do you any good to know. I don’t +kill my friends.”</p> +<p>“Then,” she said eagerly, catching at the +hope which he held out to her, “father didn’t +hire you to kill him? You didn’t talk to +father about that?”</p> +<p>His lips curled. “Why don’t you ask +your father about that?”</p> +<p>The hope died within her. Dakota’s +words and manner implied that her father +had tried to employ him to make way with +the nester, but that he had refused. She +had not been wrong—Duncan had not been +wrong in his suspicion that her father was +planning the death of the nester. Duncan’s +only mistake was in including Dakota in +the scheme.</p> +<p>She had hoped against hope that she +might discover that Duncan had been wrong +altogether; that she had done her father an +injury in believing him capable of deliberately +planning a murder. She looked again +at Dakota. There was no mistaking his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +earnestness, she thought, for there was no +evidence of deceit or knavery in his face, +nor in the eyes that were steadily watching +her.</p> +<p>She put her hands to her face and shivered, +now thoroughly convinced of her +father’s guilt; feeling a sudden repugnance +for him, for everybody and everything in +the country, excepting Doubler.</p> +<p>She had done all she could, however, to +prevent them killing Doubler—all she could +do except to warn Doubler of his danger, +and she would go to him immediately. +Without looking again at Dakota she +turned, dry eyed and pale, urging her pony +up the trail toward the nester’s cabin, leaving +Dakota sitting silent in his saddle, +watching her.</p> +<p>She lingered on the trail, riding slowly, +halting when she came to a spot which offered +a particularly good view of the country +surrounding her, for in spite of her lonesomeness +she could not help appreciating +the beauty of the land, with its towering +mountains, its blue sky, its vast, yawning +distances, and the peacefulness which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +seemed to be everywhere except in her heart.</p> +<p>She presently reached the Two Forks and +urged her pony through the shallow water of +its crossing, riding up the slight, intervening +slope and upon a stretch of plain beside +a timber grove. A little later she came to +the corral gates, where she dismounted and +hitched her pony to a rail, smiling to herself +as she thought of how surprised Doubler +would be to see her.</p> +<p>Then she left the corral gate and stole +softly around a corner of the cabin, determined +to steal upon Doubler unawares. +Once at the corner, she halted and peered +around. She saw Doubler lying in the +open doorway, his body twisted into a peculiarly +odd position, face down, his arms outstretched, +his legs doubled under him.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIII_THE_SHOT_IN_THE_BACK' id='XIII_THE_SHOT_IN_THE_BACK'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>THE SHOT IN THE BACK</h3> +</div> + +<p>For an instant after discovering Doubler +lying in the doorway, Sheila stood +motionless at the corner of the cabin, +looking down wonderingly at him. She +thought at first that he was merely resting, +but his body was doubled up so oddly that +a grave doubt rose in her mind. A vague +fear clutched at her heart, and she stood +rigid, her eyes wide as she looked for some +sign that would confirm her fears. And +then she saw a moist red patch on his shirt +on the right side just below the shoulder +blade, and it seemed that a band of steel had +been suddenly pressed down over her forehead. +Something had happened to Doubler!</p> +<p>The world reeled, objects around her +danced fantastically, the trees in the grove +near her seemed to dip toward her in derision, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +her knees sagged and she held tightly +to the corner of the cabin for support in her +weakness.</p> +<p>She saw it all in a flash. Dakota had +been to visit Doubler and had shot him. +She had heard the shot. Duncan had been +right, and Dakota—how she despised him +now!—was probably even now picturing in +his imagination the scene of her discovering +the nester lying on his own threshold, murdered. +An anger against him, which arose +at the thought, did much to help her regain +control of herself.</p> +<p>She must be brave now, for there might +still be life in Doubler’s body, and she went +slowly toward him, cringing and shrinking, +along the wall of the cabin.</p> +<p>She touched him first, lightly with the +tips of her fingers, calling softly to him in +a quavering voice. Becoming more bold, +she took hold of him by the left shoulder +and shook him slightly, and her heart seemed +to leap within her when a faint moan escaped +his lips. Her fear fled instantly as she realized +that he was alive, that she had not to +deal with a dead man. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span></p> +<p>Stifling a quivering sob she took hold of +him again, tugging and pulling at him, trying +to turn him over so that she might see +his face. She observed that the red patch +on his shoulder grew larger with the effort, +and her face grew paler with apprehension, +but convinced that she must persist she shut +her eyes and tugged desperately at him, finally +succeeding in pulling him over on his +back.</p> +<p>He moaned again, though his face was +ashen and lifeless, and with hope filling her +heart she redoubled her efforts and finally +succeeded in dragging him inside the cabin, +out of the sun, where he lay inert, with wide-stretched +arms, a gruesome figure to the +girl.</p> +<p>Panting and exhausted, some stray wisps +of hair sweeping her temples, the rest of it +threatening to come tumbling down around +her shoulders, she leaned against one of the +door jambs, thinking rapidly. She ought +to have help, of course, and her thoughts +went to Dakota, riding unconcernedly away +on the river trail. She could not go to him +for assistance, such a course was not to be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +considered, she would rather let Doubler +die than to go to his murderer; she could +never have endured the irony of such an action. +Besides, she was certain that even +were she to go to him, he would find some +excuse to refuse her, for having shot the +nester, he certainly would do nothing toward +bringing the help which might possibly +restore him to life.</p> +<p>She put aside the thought with a shudder +of horror, yet conscious that something must +be done for Doubler at once if he was to live. +Perhaps it was already too late to go for assistance; +there seemed to be but very little +life in his body, and trembling with anxiety +she decided that she must render him whatever +aid she could. There was not much +that she could do, to be sure, but if she could +do something she might keep him alive until +other help would come.</p> +<p>She stood beside the door jamb and +watched him for some time, for she dreaded +the idea of touching him again, but after a +while her courage returned, and she again +went to him, kneeling down beside him, laying +her head on his breast and listening. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +His heart was beating, faintly, but still it +was beating, and she rose from him, determined.</p> +<p>She found a sheath knife in one of his +pockets, and with this she cut the shirt away +from the wound, discovering, when she drew +the pieces of cloth away, that there was a +large, round hole in his breast. She came +near to swooning when she thought of the +red patch on his back, for that seemed to +prove that the bullet had gone clear through +him. It had missed a vital spot, though, +she thought, for it seemed to be rather high +on the shoulder.</p> +<p>She got some water from a pail that stood +just inside the door, and with this and some +white cloth which she tore from one of her +skirts, she bathed and bandaged the wound +and laid a wet cloth on his forehead. She +tried to force some of the water down his +throat, but he could not swallow, lying there +with closed eyes and drawing his breath in +short, painful gasps.</p> +<p>After she had worked with him for a +quarter of an hour or more she stood up, +convinced that she had done all she could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +for him and that the next move would be +to get a doctor.</p> +<p>She had heard Duncan say that it was +fifty miles to Dry Bottom, and she knew +that it was at least forty to Lazette. She +had never heard anyone mention that there +was a doctor nearer, and so of course she +would have to go to Lazette—ten miles +would make a great difference.</p> +<p>She might ride to the Double R ranchhouse, +and she thought of going there, but +it was at least ten miles off the Lazette trail, +and even though at the Double R she might +get a cowboy to make the ride to Lazette, +she would be losing much valuable time. +She drew a deep breath over the contemplation +of the long ride—at best it would take +her four hours—but she did not hesitate +long and with a last glance at Doubler she +was out of the door and walking to the corral, +where she unhitched her pony, mounted, +and sent the animal over the level toward +the crossing at a sharp gallop.</p> +<p>Once over the crossing and on the river +trail where the riding was better, she held +the pony to an even, steady pace. One +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +mile, two miles, five or six she rode with her +hair flying in the breeze, her cheeks pale, +except for a bright red spot in the center of +each—which betrayed the excitement under +which she was laboring. There was a resolute +gleam in her eyes, though, and she rode +lightly, helping her pony as much as possible. +However, the animal was fresh and +did not seem to mind the pace, cavorting +and lunging up the rises and pulling hard +on the reins on the levels, showing a desire +to run. She held it in, though, realizing +that during the forty mile ride the animal +would have plenty of opportunity to prove +its mettle.</p> +<p>She reached and passed the quicksand +crossing from which she had been pulled by +Dakota, the pony running with the sure +regularity of a machine, and was on a level +which led into some hills directly ahead, +when the pony stumbled.</p> +<p>She tried to jerk it erect with the reins, +but in spite of the effort she felt it sink under +her, and with a sensation of dismay +clutching at her heart she slid out of the +saddle.</p> +<p>A swift examination showed her that the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +pony’s right fore-leg was deep in the sand +of the trail, and she surmised instantly that +it had stepped into a prairie dog hole. When +she went to it and raised its head it looked +appealingly at her, and she stifled a groan +of sympathy and began looking about for +some means to extricate it.</p> +<p>She found this no easy task, for the pony’s +leg was deep in the sand, and when she finally +dug a space around it with a branch of +tree which she procured from a nearby +grove, the animal struggled out, only to +limp badly. The leg, Sheila decided, after +a quick examination, was not broken, but +badly sprained, and she knew enough about +horses to be certain that the injured +pony would never be able to carry her +to Lazette.</p> +<p>She would be forced to go to the Double +R now, there was nothing else that she could +do. Standing beside the pony, debating +whether she had not better walk than try +to ride him, even to the Double R, she heard +a clatter of hoofs and turned to see Dakota +riding the trail toward her. He was traveling +in the direction she had been traveling +when the accident had happened, and apparently +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span> +had left the trail somewhere back +in the distance, or she would have seen +him. Perhaps, she speculated, with a flash +of dull anger, he had followed her near +to Doubler’s cabin, perhaps had been near +when she had dragged the wounded nester +into it.</p> +<p>His first word showed her that there was +ground for this suspicion. He drew up beside +her and looked at her with a queer +smile, and she, aware of his guilt, wondered +at his composure.</p> +<p>“You didn’t stay long at Doubler’s +shack,” he said. “I was on a ridge, back +on the trail a ways, and I saw you hitting +the breeze away from there some rapid. I +was thinking to intercept you, but you went +tearing by so fast that I didn’t get a chance. +You’re in an awful hurry. What’s wrong?”</p> +<p>“You ought to know that,” she said, bitterly +angry because of his pretended serenity. +“You—you murderer!”</p> +<p>His face paled instantly, but his voice was +clear and sharp.</p> +<p>“Murderer?” he said sternly. “Who +has been murdered?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span></p> +<p>“You don’t know, of course,” she said +scornfully, her face flaming, her eyes alight +with loathing and contempt. “You shot +him and then let me ride on alone to—to +find him, shot—shot in the back! Oh!”</p> +<p>She shuddered at the recollection, held +her hands over her eyes for an instant to +keep from looking at the expression of +amazement in his eyes, and while she stood +thus she heard a movement, and withdrew +her hands from her eyes to see him standing +beside her, so close that his body touched +hers, his eyes ablaze with curiosity and interest +and repressed anxiety. She cringed +and cried with pain as he seized her arm and +twisted her forcibly around so that she faced +him.</p> +<p>“Stop this fooling and tell me what has +happened!” he said, with short, incisive accents. +“Who did you find shot? Who has +been murdered?”</p> +<p>Oh, it was admirable acting, she told herself +as she tore herself away from him and +stood back a little, her eyes flashing with +scorn and horror. “You don’t know, of +course,” she flared. “You shot him—shot +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span> +him in the back and sent me on to find him. +You gloried in the thought of me finding +him dead. But he isn’t dead, thank God, +and will live, if I can get a doctor, to accuse +you!” She pointed a finger at him, but he +ignored it and took a step toward her, his +eyes cold and boring into hers.</p> +<p>“Who?” he demanded. “Who?”</p> +<p>“Ben Doubler. Oh!” she cried, in an +excess of rage and horror, “to think that I +should have to tell you!”</p> +<p>But if he heard her last words he paid no +attention to them, for he was suddenly at his +pony’s side, buckling the cinches tighter. +She watched him, fascinated at the repressed +energy of his movements, and became so interested +that she started when he suddenly +looked up at her.</p> +<p>“He isn’t dead, then,” he said rapidly, +sharply, the words coming with short, metallic +snaps. “You were going to Lazette +for a doctor. I’m glad I happened along—glad +I saw you. I’ll be able to make better +time than you.”</p> +<p>“Where are you going?” she demanded, +scarcely having heard his words, though +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +aware that he was preparing to leave. She +took a step forward and seized his pony’s +bridle rein, her eyes blazing with wrath over +the thought that he should attempt to deceive +her with so bald a ruse.</p> +<p>“For the doctor,” he said shortly. “This +is no time for melodramatics, ma’am, if +Doubler is badly hurt. Will you please let +go of that bridle?”</p> +<p>“Do you think,” she demanded, her +cheeks aflame, her hair, loosened from the +long ride, straggling over her temples and +giving her a singularly disheveled appearance, +“that I am going to let you go for the +doctor? You!”</p> +<p>“This isn’t a case where your feelings +should be considered, ma’am,” he said. “If +Ben Doubler has been hurt like you think +he has I’m going to get the doctor mighty +sudden, whether you think I ought to or +not!”</p> +<p>“You won’t!” she declared, stamping a; +foot furiously. “You shot him and now +you want to disarm suspicion by going after +the doctor for him. But you won’t! I +won’t let you!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span></p> +<p>“You’ll have to,” he said rapidly. “The +doctor isn’t at Lazette; he is over on Carrizo +Creek, taking care of Dave Moreland’s +wife, who is down bad. I saw Dave yesterday, +and he was telling me about her; that +the doctor is to stay there until she is out +of danger. You don’t know where Moreland’s +place is. Be sensible, now,” he said +gruffly. “I’ll talk to you later about you +suspecting me.”</p> +<p>“You shan’t go,” she protested; “I am +going myself. I will find Moreland’s place. +I can’t let you go—it would be horrible!”</p> +<p>For answer he swung quickly down from +the saddle, seized her by the waist, disengaged +her hands from the bridle rein, and +picking her up bodily carried her, struggling +and fighting and striking blindly at his face, +to the side of the trail. When he set her +down he pinned her arms to her sides. He +did not speak, and she was entirely helpless +in his grasp, but when he released his grasp +of her arms and tried to leave her she seized +the collar of his vest. With a grim laugh +he slipped out of the garment, leaving it +dangling from her hand. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span></p> +<p>“Keep it for me, ma’am,” he said with a +cold chuckle. “But get back to Doubler’s +cabin and see what you can do for him. +You’ll be able to do a lot. I’ll be back with +the doctor before sundown.”</p> +<p>In an instant he was at his pony’s side, +mounting with the animal at a run, and in a +brief space had vanished around a turn in +the trail, leaving a cloud of dust to mark +the spot where Sheila had seen him disappear.</p> +<p>For a long time Sheila stood beside the +trail, looking at the spot where he had disappeared, +holding his vest with an unconscious +grasp. Looking down she saw it and +with an exclamation of rage threw it from +her, watching it fall into the sand. But after +an instant she went over and took it up, +recovering, at the same time, a black leather +pocket memoranda which had slipped out +of it. She put the memoranda back into +one of the pockets, handling both the book +and the vest gingerly, for she felt an aversion +to touching them. She conquered this +feeling long enough to tuck the vest into the +slicker behind the saddle, and then she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +mounted and sent her pony up the trail toward +Doubler’s cabin.</p> +<p>She found Doubler where she had left +him, and he was still unconscious. The +water pail was empty and she went down +to the river and refilled it, returning to the +cabin and again bathing and bandaging +Doubler’s wound, and placing a fresh cloth +on his forehead.</p> +<p>For a time she sat watching the injured +man, revolving the incident of her discovery +of him in her mind, going over and over +again the gruesome details. She did not +dwell long on the latter, for she could not +prevent her mind reviewing Dakota’s words +and actions—his satanic cleverness in pretending +to be on the verge of taking her into +his confidence, his prediction that she would +understand when this “business” was over. +She did not need to wait, she understood +now!</p> +<p>Finding the silence in the cabin irksome, +she rose, placed Doubler’s head in a more +comfortable position, and went outside into +the bright sunshine of the afternoon. She +took a turn around the corral, abstractedly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +watched the awkward antics of several yearlings +which were penned in a corner, and +then returned to the cabin door, where she +sat on the edge of the step.</p> +<p>Near the side of the cabin door, leaning +against the wall, she saw a rifle. She +started, not remembering to have seen it +there before, but presently she found courage +to take it up gingerly, turning it over +and over in her hands.</p> +<p>Some initials had been carved on the +stock and she examined them, making them +out finally as “B. D.”—Doubler’s. Examining +the weapon she found an empty shell +in the chamber, and she nearly dropped the +rifle when the thought struck her that perhaps +Doubler had been shot with it. She +set it down quickly, shuddering, and for diversion +walked to her pony, examining the +injured leg and rubbing it, the pony nickering +gratefully. Returning to the cabin she +sat for a long time on the step, but she did +not again take up the rifle. Several times +while she sat on the step she heard Doubler +moan, and once she got up and went to him, +again bathing his wound, but returning instantly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +to the door step, for she could not +bear the silence of the interior.</p> +<p>Suddenly remembering Dakota’s vest and +the black leather memoranda which had +dropped from one of the pockets, she got +up again and went to the bench where she +had laid the garment, taking out the book +and regarding it with some curiosity.</p> +<p>There was nothing on the cover to suggest +what might be the nature of its contents—time +had worn away any printing +that might have been on it. She hesitated, +debating the propriety of an examination, +but her curiosity got the better of her and +with a sharp glance at Doubler she turned +her back and opened the book.</p> +<p>Almost the first object that caught her +gaze was a piece of paper, detached from +the leaves, with some writing on it. The +writing seemed unimportant, but as she +turned it, intending to replace it between the +leaves of the book, she saw her father’s +name, and she read, holding her breath with +dread, for fresh in her mind was Duncan’s +charge that her father had entered into an +agreement with Dakota for the murder of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +Doubler. She read the words several times, +standing beside the bench and swaying back +and forth, a sudden weakness gripping her.</p> +<p>“One month from to-day”—ran the +words—“I promise to pay to Dakota the +sum of six thousand dollars in consideration +of his rights and interest in the Star brand, +provided that within one month from date +he persuades Ben Doubler to leave Union +County.”</p> +<p>Signed: “David Dowd Langford.”</p> +<p>There it was—conclusive, damning evidence +of her father’s guilt—and of Dakota’s!</p> +<p>How cleverly that last clause covered the +evil intent of the document! Sheila read it +again and again with dry eyes. Her horror +and grief were too great for tears. She felt +that the discovery of the paper removed the +last lingering doubt, and though she had +been partially prepared for proof, she had +not been prepared to have it thrust so +quickly and convincingly before her.</p> +<p>How long she sat on the door step she did +not know, or care, for at a stroke she had +lost all interest in everything in the country. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +Even its people interested her only to the +point of loathing—they were murderers, +even her father. Time represented to her +nothing now except a dreary space which, +if she endured, would bring the moment in +which she could leave. For within the last +few minutes she seemed to have been robbed +of all the things which had made existence +here endurable and she was determined to +end it all. When she finally got up and +looked about her she saw that the sun had +traveled quite a distance down the sky. A +sorrowful smile reached her face as she +watched it. It was going away, and before +it could complete another circle she would +go too—back to the East from where she +had come, where there were at least <i>some</i> +friends who could be depended upon to commit +no atrocious crimes.</p> +<p>No plan of action formed in her mind; +she could not think lucidly with the knowledge +that her father was convicted of complicity +in an attempted murder.</p> +<p>Would she be able to face her father +again? To bid him good-bye? She thought +not. It would be better for both if she departed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span> +without him being aware of her going. +He would not care, she told herself +bitterly; lately he had withheld from her all +those little evidences of affection to which +she had grown accustomed, and it would +not be hard for him, he would not miss her, +perhaps would even be glad of her absence, +for then he could continue his murderous +schemes without fear of her “meddling” +with them.</p> +<p>There was a fascination in the paper on +which was written the signed agreement. +She read it carefully again, and then concealed +it in her bodice, pinning it there so +that it would not become lost. Then she +rose and went into the cabin, placing the +memoranda on a shelf where Dakota would +be sure to find it when he returned with the +doctor. She did not care to read anything +contained in it.</p> +<p>Marveling at her coolness, she went outside +again and resumed her seat on the door +step. It was not such a blow to her, after +all, and there arose in her mind as she sat +on the step a wonder, as to how her father +would act were she to confront him with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +evidence of his guilt. Perhaps she would +not show him the paper, but she finally became +convinced that she must talk to him, +must learn from him in some manner his +connection with the attempted murder of +Doubler. Then, after receiving from him +some sign which would convince her, she +would take her belongings and depart for +the East, leaving him to his own devices.</p> +<p>Looking up at the sun, she saw that it +still had quite a distance to travel before it +reached the mountains. Stealing into the +cabin, she once more fixed the bandages on +the wounded man. Then she went out, +mounted her pony, and rode through the +shallow water of the crossing toward the +Double R ranch.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIV_LANGFORD_LAYS_OFF_THE_MASK' id='XIV_LANGFORD_LAYS_OFF_THE_MASK'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>LANGFORD LAYS OFF THE MASK</h3> +</div> + +<p>The sun was still an hour above the +horizon when Sheila rode up to the +corral gates. While removing the +saddle and bridle from her pony she noted +with satisfaction that the horse which her +father had been accustomed to ride was inside +the corral. Therefore her father was +somewhere about.</p> +<p>Hanging the saddle and bridle from a +rail of the corral fence, she went into the +house to find that Langford was not there. +Duncan’s sister curtly informed her that she +had seen him a few minutes before down at +the stables. Sheila went into the office, +which was a lean-to addition to the ranchhouse, +and seating herself at her father’s +desk picked up a six month’s old copy of a +magazine and tried to read. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span></p> +<p>Finding that she could not concentrate +her thoughts, she dropped the magazine into +her lap and leaned back with a sigh. From +where she sat she had a good view of the +stables, and fifteen minutes later, while she +still watched, she saw Langford come out +of one of the stable doors and walk toward +the house. She felt absolutely no emotion +whatever over his coming; there was only a +mild curiosity in her mind as to the manner +in which he would take the news of her intended +departure from the Double R. She +observed, with a sort of detached interest, +that he looked twice at her saddle and bridle +as he passed them, and so of course he surmised +that she had come in from her ride. +For a moment she lost sight of him behind +some buildings, and then he opened the door +of the office and entered.</p> +<p>He stopped on the threshold for an instant +and looked at her, evidently expecting +her to offer her usual greeting. He frowned +slightly when it did not come, and then +smiled.</p> +<p>“Hello!” he said cordially. “You are +back, I see. And tired,” he added, noting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +her position. He walked over and laid a +hand on her forehead and she involuntarily +shrank from his touch, shuddering, for the +hand which he had placed on her forehead +was the right one—the hand with which he +had signed the agreement with Dakota—Doubler’s +death warrant.</p> +<p>“Don’t, please,” she said.</p> +<p>“Cross, too?” he said jocularly.</p> +<p>“Just tired,” she lied listlessly, and with +an air of great indifference.</p> +<p>He looked critically at her for an instant, +then smiled again and dragged a chair over +near a window and looked out, apparently +little concerned over her manner. But she +noted that he glanced furtively at her several +times, and that he seemed greatly satisfied +over something. She wondered if he +had seen Dakota; if he knew that the latter +had already attempted to carry out the +agreement to “Persuade Doubler to leave +the county.”</p> +<p>“Ride far?” he questioned, turning and +facing her, his voice casual.</p> +<p>“Not very far.”</p> +<p>“The river trail?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></p> +<p>Sheila nodded, and saw a sudden interest +flash into his eyes.</p> +<p>“Which way?” he asked quickly.</p> +<p>“Down,” she returned. She had not +lied, for she <i>had</i> ridden “down,” and +though she had also ridden up the river she +preferred to let him guess a little, for she +resented the curiosity in his voice and was +determined to broach the subject which she +had in mind in her own time and after the +manner that suited her best.</p> +<p>He had not been interested in her for a +long time, had not appeared to care where +she spent her time. Why should he betray +interest now? She saw a mysterious smile +on his face and knew before he spoke that +his apparent interest in her was not genuine—that +he was merely curious.</p> +<p>“Then you haven’t heard the news?” he +said softly. He was looking out of the window +now, and she could not see his face.</p> +<p>She took up the magazine and turned +several pages, pretending to read, but in +reality waiting for him to continue. When +he made no effort to do so her own curiosity +got the better of her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span></p> +<p>“What news?” she questioned, without +looking at him.</p> +<p>“About Doubler,” he said. “He is +dead.”</p> +<p>Her surprise was genuine, and her hands +trembled as the leaves of the magazine +fluttered and closed. Had the nester died +since she had left his cabin? A moment’s +thought convinced her that this could not +be the explanation, for assuredly she would +have seen anyone who had arrived at Doubler’s +cabin; she had scanned the surrounding +country before and after leaving the vicinity +of the crossing and had seen no signs of +anyone. Besides, Langford’s news seemed +to have abided with him a long time—it +seemed to her that he had known it for +hours. She could not tell why she felt this, +but she was certain that he had not received +word recently—within an hour or two at +any rate—unless he had seen Dakota.</p> +<p>This seemed to be the secret of his knowledge, +and the more she considered the latter’s +excitement during her meeting with +him on the trail, the more fully she became +convinced that Langford had talked to him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span> +The latter’s anxiety to relieve her of the +task of riding to Lazette for the doctor had +been spurious; he had merely wanted to be +the first to carry the news of Doubler’s +death to Langford, and after leaving her +he had undoubtedly taken a roundabout +trail for the Double R. Possibly by this +time he had settled with Langford and was +on his way out of the country.</p> +<p>“Dead?” she said, turning to Langford. +“Who——” In her momentary excitement +she had come very near to asking him +who had brought him the news. She hesitated, +for she saw a glint of surprise and +suspicion in his eyes.</p> +<p>“My dear girl, did I say that he had +been ‘killed’?”</p> +<p>His smile was without humor. Evidently +he had expected that she had been about to +ask who had killed the nester.</p> +<p>He looked at her steadily, an intolerant +smile playing about the corners of his +mouth. “I am aware that you have been +suspicious of me ever since you heard that +I had a quarrel with Doubler. But, thank +God, my dear, I have not that crime to answer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +for. Doubler, however, has been +killed—murdered.”</p> +<p>Sheila repressed a desire to shudder, and +turned from Langford so that he would not +be able to see the disgust that had come +into her eyes over the discovery that in addition +to being a murderer her father was that +most despicable of all living things—a hypocrite! +It required all of her composure to +be able to look at him again.</p> +<p>“Who killed him?” she asked evenly.</p> +<p>“Dakota, my dear.”</p> +<p>“Dakota!” She pronounced the name +abstractedly, for she was surprised at the +admission.</p> +<p>“How do you know that Dakota killed +him?” she said, looking straight at him. +He changed color, though his manner was +still smooth and his smile bland.</p> +<p>“Duncan was fortunate enough to be in +the vicinity when the deed was committed,” +he told her. “And he saw Dakota shoot +him in the back. With his own rifle, too.”</p> +<p>There was a quality in his voice which +hinted at satisfaction; a peculiar emphasis +on the word “fortunate” which caused +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +Sheila to wonder why he should consider it +fortunate that Duncan had seen the murder +done, when it would have been much better +for the success of Dakota’s and her father’s +scheme if there had been no witness to it +at all.</p> +<p>“However,” continued Langford, with a +sigh of resignation that caused Sheila a +shiver of repugnance and horror, “Doubler’s +death will not be a very great loss to +the country. Duncan tells me that he has +long been suspected of cattle stealing, and +sooner or later he would have been caught in +the act. And as for Dakota,” he laughed +harshly, with a note of suppressed triumph +that filled her with an unaccountable resentment; +“Dakota is an evil in the country, +too. Do you remember how he killed that +Mexican half-breed over in Lazette that +day?—the day I came? Wanton murder, +I call it. Such a man is a danger and a +menace, and I shall not be sorry to see him +hanged for killing Doubler.”</p> +<p>“Then you will have Duncan charge Dakota +with the murder?”</p> +<p>“Of course, my dear; why shouldn’t I? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +Assuredly you would not allow Dakota to +go unpunished?”</p> +<p>“No,” said Sheila, “Doubler’s murderer +should be punished.”</p> +<p>Two things were now fixed in her mind +as certainties. Dakota had not been to see +her father since she had left him on the +river trail; he had not received his blood-money—would +never receive it. Her father +had no intention of living up to his agreement +with Dakota and intended to allow +him to be hanged. She thought of the +signed agreement in her bodice. Langford +had given it to Dakota, but she had little +doubt that in case Dakota still had it in his +possession and dared to produce it, Langford +would deny having made it—would +probably term it a forgery. It was harmless, +too; who would be likely to intimate +that the clause regarding Dakota inducing +Doubler to leave the country meant that +Langford had hired Dakota to kill the +nester? Sheila sat silent, looking at Langford, +wondering how it happened that he +had been able to masquerade so long before +her; why she had permitted herself to love +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +a being so depraved, so entirely lacking in +principle.</p> +<p>But a thrill of hope swept over her. Perhaps +Doubler would not die? She had been +considering the situation from the viewpoint +of the nester’s death, but if Dakota had +really been in earnest and had gone for a +doctor, there was a chance that the tragedy +which seemed so imminent would be turned +into something less serious. Immediately +her spirits rose and she was able to smile +quietly at Langford when he continued:</p> +<p>“Dakota will be hung, of course; decency +demands it. When Duncan came to me +with the news I sent him instantly to Lazette +to inform the sheriff of what had happened. +Undoubtedly he will take Dakota +into custody at once.”</p> +<p>“But not for murder,” said Sheila evenly, +unable to keep a quiver of triumph out of +her voice.</p> +<p>“Not?” said Langford, startled. “Why +not?”</p> +<p>“Because,” returned Sheila, enjoying +the sudden consternation that was revealed +in her father’s face, and drawling her words +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span> +a little to further confound him; “because +Doubler isn’t dead.”</p> +<p>“Not dead!” Langford’s jaws sagged, +and he sat looking at Sheila with wide, +staring, vacuous eyes. “Not dead?” he +repeated hoarsely. “Why, Duncan told me +he had examined him, that he had been shot +through the lungs and had bled to death +before he left him! How do you know that +he is not dead?” he suddenly demanded, +leaning toward her, a wild hope in his eyes.</p> +<p>“I went to his cabin before noon,” said +Sheila. “I found him lying in the doorway. +He had been shot through the right +side, near the shoulder, but not through the +lung, and he was still alive. I dragged him +into the cabin and did what I could for him. +Then I started for the doctor.”</p> +<p>“For the doctor?” he said incredulously. +“Then how does it happen that you are +here? You couldn’t possibly ride to Lazette +and return by this time!”</p> +<p>“I believe I said that I ‘started’ for the +doctor,” said Sheila with a quiet smile. She +was enjoying his excitement. “I met Dakota +on the trail, and he went.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span></p> +<p>Langford continued to stare at her; it +seemed that he could not realize the truth. +Then suddenly he was out of his chair and +standing over her, his face bloated poisonously, +his eyes ablaze with a malignant light.</p> +<p>“Damn you!” he shrieked. “This is +what comes of your infernal meddling! +What business had you to interfere? Why +didn’t you let him die? I’ve a notion——”</p> +<p>His hands clenched and unclenched before +her eyes, and she sat with blanched +face, certain that he was about to attack +her—perhaps kill her. She did not seem to +care much, however, and looked up into his +face steadily and defiantly.</p> +<p>After a moment, however, he regained +control of himself, leaving her side and +pacing rapidly back and forth in the office, +cursing bitterly.</p> +<p>Curiously, Sheila was not surprised at +this outburst; she had rather expected it +since she had become aware of his real character. +Nor was she surprised to discover +that he had dropped pretense altogether—he +was bound to do that sooner or later. +Her only surprise was at her own feelings. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span> +She did not experience the slightest concern +over him—it was as though she were +talking to a stranger. She was interested +to the point of taking a grim enjoyment +out of his confusion, but beyond that she +was not interested in anything.</p> +<p>It made little difference to her what became +of Langford, Dakota, Duncan—any +of them, except Doubler. She intended to +return to the nester’s cabin, to help the doctor +make him comfortable—for he had been +the only person in the country who had +shown her any kindness; he was the only +one who had not wronged her, and she was +grateful to him.</p> +<p>Langford was standing over her again, +his breath coming short and fast.</p> +<p>“Where did you see Dakota?” he questioned +hoarsely. “Answer!” he added, +when she did not speak immediately.</p> +<p>“On the river trail.”</p> +<p>“Before you found Doubler?”</p> +<p>“Before, yes—and after. I met him +twice.”</p> +<p>She discerned his motive in asking these +questions, but it made no difference to her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +and she answered truthfully. She did not +intend to shield Dakota; the fact that +Doubler had not been killed outright did +not lessen the gravity of the offense in her +eyes.</p> +<p>“Before you found Doubler!” Langford’s +voice came with a vicious snap. +“You met him coming from Doubler’s +cabin, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” she answered wearily, “I met him +coming from there. I was on the trail—going +there—and I heard the shot. I know +Dakota killed him.”</p> +<p>Langford made an exclamation of satisfaction.</p> +<p>“Well, it isn’t so bad, after all. You’ll +have to be a witness against Dakota. And +very likely Doubler will die—probably is +dead by this time; will certainly be dead +before the Lazette doctor can reach his +cabin. No, my dear,” he added, smiling at +Sheila, “it isn’t so bad, after all.”</p> +<p>Sheila rose. Her poignant anger against +him was equaled only by her disgust. He +expected her to bear witness against Dakota; +desired her to participate in his scheme +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span> +to fasten upon the latter the entire blame +for the commission of a crime in which he +himself was the moving factor.</p> +<p>“I shall not bear witness against him,” +she told Langford coldly. “For I am going +away—back East—to-morrow. Don’t +imagine that I have been in complete ignorance +of what has been going on; that I +have been unaware of the part you have +played in the shooting of Doubler. I have +known for quite a long while that you had +decided to have Doubler murdered, and only +recently I learned that you hired Dakota to +kill him. And this morning, when I met +Dakota on the river trail, he dropped this +from a pocket of his vest.” She fumbled at +her bodice and produced the signed agreement, +holding it out to him.</p> +<p>As she expected, he repudiated it, though +his face paled a little as he read it.</p> +<p>“This is a forgery, my dear,” he said, in +the old, smooth, even voice that she had +grown to despise.</p> +<p>“No,” she returned calmly, “it is not a +forgery. You forget that only a minute ago +you practically admitted it to be a true +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +agreement by telling me that I should have +allowed Doubler to die. You are an accomplice +in the shooting of Doubler, and if I am +compelled to testify in Dakota’s trial I shall +tell everything I know.”</p> +<p>She watched while he lighted a match, +held it to the paper, smiling as the licking +flames consumed it. He was entirely composed +now, and through the gathering darkness +of the interior of the office she saw a +sneer come into his face.</p> +<p>“I shall do all I can to assist you to discontinue +the associations which are so distasteful +to you. You will start for the East +immediately, I presume?”</p> +<p>“To-morrow,” she said. “In the afternoon. +I shall have my trunks taken over to +Lazette in the morning.”</p> +<p>“In the morning?” said Langford, puzzled. +“Why not ride over with them, in +the afternoon, in the buckboard?”</p> +<p>“I shall ride my pony. The man can return +him.” She took a step toward the door, +but halted before reaching it, turning to look +back at him.</p> +<p>“I don’t think it is necessary for me to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +say good-by. But you have not treated me +badly in the past, and I thank you—for +that—and wish you well.”</p> +<p>“Where are you going?”</p> +<p>Sheila had walked to the door and stood +with one hand on the latch. He came and +stood beside her, a suppressed excitement in +his manner, his eyes gleaming brightly in +the dusk which had suddenly fallen.</p> +<p>“I think I told you that before. Ben +Doubler is alone, and he needs care. I am +going to him—to stay with him until the +doctor arrives. He will die if someone does +not take care of him.”</p> +<p>“You are determined to continue to meddle, +are you?” he said, his voice quivering +with anger, his lips working strangely. “I +am sick of your damned interference. Sick +of it, I tell you!” His voice lowered to a +harsh, throaty whisper. “You won’t leave +this office until to-morrow afternoon! Do +you hear? What business is it of yours if +Doubler dies?”</p> +<p>Sheila did not answer, but pressed the +door latch. His arm suddenly interposed, +his fingers closing on her arm, gripping it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +so tightly that she cried out with pain. Then +suddenly his fingers were boring into her +shoulders; she was twisted, helpless in his +brutal grasp, and flung bodily into the chair +beside the desk, where she sat, sobbing +breathlessly.</p> +<p>She did not cry out again, but sat motionless, +her lips quivering, rubbing her shoulders +where his iron fingers had sunk into the +flesh, her soul filled with a revolting horror +for his brutality.</p> +<p>For a moment there was no movement. +Then, in the semi-darkness she saw him +leave the door; watched him as he approached +a shelf on which stood a kerosene +lamp, lifted the chimney and applied a +match to the wick. For an instant after +replacing the chimney he stood full in the +glare of light, his face contorted with rage, +his eyes gleaming with venom.</p> +<p>“Now you know exactly where I stand, +you—you huzzy!” he said, grinning satyrically +as she winced under the insult. “I’m +your father, damn you! Your father—do +you hear? And I’ll not have you go back +East to gab and gossip about me. You’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +stay here, and you’ll bear witness against +Dakota, and you’ll keep quiet about me!” +He was trembling horribly as he came close +to her, and his breath was coughing in his +throat shrilly.</p> +<p>“I won’t do anything of the kind!” +Sheila got to her feet, and stood, rigid with +anger, her eyes flaming defiance. “I am +going to Doubler’s cabin this minute, and +if you molest me again I shall go to the +sheriff with my story!”</p> +<p>He seemed about to attack her again, and +his hands were raised as though to grasp her +throat, when there came a sound at the door, +it swung open, and Dakota stepped in, closing +the door behind him.</p> +<p>Dakota’s face was white—white as it had +been that other day at the quicksand +crossing when Sheila had looked up to see +him sitting on his pony, watching her. +There was an entire absence of excitement +in his manner, though; no visible sign to tell +that what he had seen on entering the cabin +disturbed him in the least. Yet the whiteness +of his face belied this apparent composure. +It seemed to Sheila that his eyes betrayed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span> +the strong emotion that was gripping +him.</p> +<p>She retreated to the chair beside the desk +and sank into it. Langford had wheeled +and was now facing Dakota, a shallow smile +on his face.</p> +<p>There was a smile on Dakota’s face, too; +a mysterious, cold, prepared grin that fascinated +Sheila as she watched him. The smile +faded a little when he spoke to Langford, +his voice vibrating, as though he had been +running.</p> +<p>“When you’re fighting a woman, Langford, +you ought to make sure there isn’t a +man around!”</p> +<p>Mingling with Sheila’s recognition of the +obvious and admirable philosophy of this +statement was a realization that Dakota +must have been riding hard. There was +much dust on his clothing, the scarf at his +neck was thick with it; it streaked his face, +his voice was husky, his lips dry.</p> +<p>Langford did not answer him, stepping +back against the desk and regarding him +with a mirthless, forced smile which, Sheila +was certain, he had assumed in order to conceal +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +his fear of the man who stood before +him.</p> +<p>“So you haven’t got any thoughts just at +this minute,” said Dakota with cold insinuation. +“You are one of those men who can +talk bravely enough to women, but who can’t +think of anything exactly proper for a man +to hear. Well, you’ll do your talking later.” +He looked at Sheila, ignoring Langford +completely.</p> +<p>“I expect you’ve been wondering, ma’am, +why I’m here, when I ought to be over at +the Two Forks, trying to do something for +Doubler. But the doctor’s there, taking +care of him. The reason I’ve come is that +I’ve found this in Doublet’s cabin.” He +drew out the memoranda which Sheila had +placed on the shelf in the cabin, holding it +up so that she might see.</p> +<p>“You took my vest,” he went on. “And +I was looking for it. I found it all right, +but something was missing. You’re the +only one who has been to Doubler’s cabin +since I left there, I expect, and it must have +been you who opened this book. It isn’t in +the same shape it was when you pulled it off +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span> +me when I was talking to you down there +on the river trail—something has been taken +out of it, a paper. That’s why I rode over +here—to see if you’d got it. Have you, +ma’am?”</p> +<p>Sheila pointed mutely to the floor, where +a bit of thin, crinkled ash was all that remained +of the signed agreement.</p> +<p>“Burned!” said Dakota sharply.</p> +<p>He caught Sheila’s nod and questioned +coldly:</p> +<p>“Who burned it?”</p> +<p>“My—Mr. Langford,” returned Sheila.</p> +<p>“You found it and showed it to him, and +he burned it,” said Dakota slowly. “Why?”</p> +<p>“Don’t you see?” Sheila’s eyes mocked +Langford as she intercepted his gaze, which +had been fixed on Dakota. “It was evidence +against him,” she concluded, indicating her +father.</p> +<p>“I reckon I see.” The smile was entirely +gone out of Dakota’s face now, and as he +turned to look at Langford there was an +expression in his eyes which chilled the +latter.</p> +<p>“You’ve flunked on the agreement. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span> +You’ve burned it—won’t recognize it, eh? +Well, I’m not any surprised.”</p> +<p>Langford had partially recovered from +the shock occasioned by Dakota’s unexpected +appearance, and he shook his head in +emphatic, brazen denial.</p> +<p>“There was no agreement between us, +my friend,” he said. “The paper I burned +was a forgery.”</p> +<p>Dakota’s lips hardened. “You called me +your friend once before, Langford,” he said +coldly. “Don’t do it again or I’ll forget +that you are Sheila’s father. I reckon she +has told you about Doubler. That’s why I +came over here to get the paper, for I knew +that if you got hold of it you’d make short +work of it. I know something else.” He +took a step forward and tried to hold Langford’s +gaze, his own eyes filled with a snapping +menace. “I know that you’ve sent +Duncan to Lazette for the sheriff. The +doctor told me he’d met him,—Duncan—and +the doctor says Duncan told him that +you’d said that I fixed Doubler. How do +you know I did?”</p> +<p>“Duncan saw you,” said Langford. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span></p> +<p>Dakota’s lips curled. “Duncan tell you +that?” he questioned.</p> +<p>At Langford’s nod he laughed harshly. +“So it’s a plant, eh?” he said, with a mirthless +chuckle. “You are figuring to get two +birds with one stone—Doubler and me. +You’ve already got Doubler, or think you +have, and now it’s my turn. It does look +pretty bad for me, for a fact, doesn’t it? +You’ve burned the agreement you made +with me, so that you could slip out of your +obligation. I reckon you think that after +the sheriff gets me you’ll be able to take the +Star without any trouble—like you expect +to take Doubler’s land.</p> +<p>“You’ve got Duncan to swear that he +saw me do for Doubler, and you’ve got your +daughter to testify that she saw me on the +trail, coming from Doubler’s cabin right +after she heard the shooting. It was a right +clever scheme, but it was my fault for letting +you get anything on me—I ought to +have known that you’d try some dog’s trick +or other.”</p> +<p>His voice was coming rapidly, sharply, +and was burdened with a lashing sarcasm. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +“Yes, it’s a right clever scheme, Mister +Langford, and it ought to be successful. +But there’s one thing you’ve forgot. I’ve +lived too long in this country to let anyone +tangle me up like you’d like to have me. +When a man gets double crossed in this +country, he can’t go to the law for redress—he +makes his own laws. I’m making mine. +You’ve double crossed me, and damn your +hide, I’m going to send you over the divide +in a hurry!”</p> +<p>One of his heavy revolvers leaped from +its holster and showed for an instant in his +right hand. Sheila had been watching +closely, forewarned by Dakota’s manner, +and when she saw his right hand drop to the +holster she sprang upon him, catching the +weapon by the muzzle.</p> +<p>Langford had covered his face with his +hands, and stood beside the desk, trembling, +and Sheila cried aloud in protest when she +saw Dakota draw the weapon that swung +at his other hip, holding her off with the +hand which she had seized. But when Dakota +saw Langford’s hands go to his face he +hesitated, smiling scornfully. He turned to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +Sheila, looking down at her face close to his, +his smile softening.</p> +<p>“I forgot,” he said gently; “I forgot he +is your father.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t that,” she said. “He isn’t my +father, any more. But—” she looked at +Dakota pleadingly—“please don’t shoot +him. Go—leave the country. You have +plenty of time. You have enough to answer +for. Please go!”</p> +<p>For answer he grasped her by the shoulders, +swinging her around so that she faced +him,—as he had forced her to face him that +day on the river trail—and there was a regretful, +admiring gleam in his eyes.</p> +<p>“You told him—” he jerked a thumb toward +Langford—“that you wouldn’t bear +witness against me. I heard you. You’re a +true blue girl, and your father’s a fool or he +wouldn’t lose you, like he is going to lose +you. If I had you I would take mighty +good care that you didn’t get away from me. +You’ve given me some mighty good advice, +and I would act on it if I was guilty of shooting +Doubler. But I didn’t shoot him—your +father and Duncan have framed up on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span> +me. Doubler isn’t dead yet, and so I’m not +running away. If Doubler had someone to +nurse him, he might—” He hesitated and +looked at her with a strange smile. “You +think I shot Doubler, too, don’t you? Well, +there’s a chance that if we can get Doubler +revived he can tell who did shoot him. Do +you want to know the truth? I heard you +say a while ago, while I was standing at the +window, looking in at your father giving a +demonstration of his love for you, that you +intended going over to Doubler’s shack to +nurse him. If you’re still of the same mind, +I’ll take you over there.”</p> +<p>Sheila was at the door in an instant, but +halted on the threshold to listen to Dakota’s +parting word to Langford.</p> +<p>“Mister man,” he said enigmatically, +“there’s just one thing that I want to say to +you. There’s a day coming when you’ll +think thoughts—plenty of them.”</p> +<p>In a flash he had stepped outside the door +and closed it after him.</p> +<p>A few minutes later, still standing beside +the desk, Langford heard the rapid beat of +hoofs on the hard sand of the corral yard. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span> +Faint they became, and their rhythmic beat +faster, until they died away entirely. But +Dakota’s words still lingered in Langford’s +mind, and it seemed to him that they conveyed +a prophecy.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XV_THE_PARTING_ON_THE_RIVER_TRAIL' id='XV_THE_PARTING_ON_THE_RIVER_TRAIL'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>THE PARTING ON THE RIVER TRAIL</h3> +</div> + +<p>“I’ll be leaving you now, ma’am.” +There was a good moon, and its mellow +light streamed full into Dakota’s +grim, travel-stained face as he halted +his pony on the crest of a slope above the +Two Forks and pointed out a light that +glimmered weakly through the trees on a +level some distance on the other side of the +river.</p> +<p>“There’s Doubler’s cabin—where you +see that light,” he continued, speaking to +Sheila in a low voice. “You’ve been there +before, and you won’t get lost going the rest +of the way alone. Do what you can for +Doubler. I’m going down to my shack. +I’ve done a heap of riding to-day, and I +don’t feel exactly like I want to keep going +on, unless it’s important. Besides, maybe +Doubler will get along a whole lot better if +I don’t hang around there. At least, he’ll +do as well.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span></p> +<p>Sheila had turned her head from him. He +was exhibiting a perfectly natural aversion +toward visiting the man he had nearly killed, +she assured herself with a shudder, and she +felt no pity for him. He had done her a +service, however, in appearing at the Double +R at a most opportune time, and she was +grateful. Therefore she lingered, finding it +hard to choose words.</p> +<p>“I am sorry,” she finally said.</p> +<p>“Thank you.” He maneuvered his pony +until the moonlight streamed in her face. “I +reckon you’ve got the same notion as your +father—that I shot Doubler?” he said, +watching her narrowly. “You are willing +to take Duncan’s word for it?”</p> +<p>“Duncan’s word, and the agreement +which I found in the pocket of your vest,” +she returned, without looking at him. “I +suppose that is proof enough?”</p> +<p>“Well,” he said with a bitter laugh, “it +does look bad for me, for a fact. I can’t +deny that. And I don’t blame you for thinking +as you do. But you heard what I told +your father about the shooting of Doubler +being a plant.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span></p> +<p>“A plant?”</p> +<p>“A scheme, a plot—to make an innocent +man seem guilty. That is what has been +done with me. I didn’t shoot Doubler. I +wouldn’t shoot him.”</p> +<p>She looked at him now, unbelief in her +eyes.</p> +<p>“Of course you would deny it,” she said.</p> +<p>“Well,” he said resignedly, “I reckon +that’s all. I can’t say that I expected anything +else. I’ve done some things in my +life that I’ve regretted, but I’ve never told a +lie when the truth would do as well. There +is no reason now why I should lie, and so I +want you to know that I am telling the truth +when I say that I didn’t shoot Doubler. +Won’t you believe me?”</p> +<p>“No,” she returned, unaffected by the +earnestness in his voice. “You were at +Doubler’s cabin when I heard the shot—I +met you on the trail. You killed that man, +Blanca, over in Lazette, for nothing. You +didn’t need to kill him; you shot him in pure +wantonness. But you killed Doubler for +money. You would have killed my father +had I not been there to prevent you. Perhaps +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span> +you can’t help killing people. You +have my sympathy on that account, and I +hope that in time you will do better—will +reform. But I don’t believe you.”</p> +<p>“You forgot to mention one other crime,” +he reminded her in a low voice, not without +a trace of sarcasm.</p> +<p>“I have not forgotten it. I will never +forget it. But I forgive you, for in comparison +to your other crimes your sin against +me was trivial—though it was great enough.”</p> +<p>Again his bitter laugh reached her ears. +“I thought,” he began, and then stopped +short. “Well, I reckon it doesn’t make +much difference what I thought. I would +have to tell you many things before you +would understand, and even then I suppose +you wouldn’t believe me. So I am keeping +quiet until—until the time comes. Maybe +that won’t be so long, and then you’ll understand. +I’ll be seeing you again.”</p> +<p>“I am leaving this country to-morrow,” +she informed him coldly.</p> +<p>She saw him start and experienced a sensation +of vindictive satisfaction.</p> +<p>“Well,” he said, with a queer note of regret +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +in his voice, “that’s too bad. But I +reckon I’ll be seeing you again anyway, if +the sheriff doesn’t get me.”</p> +<p>“Do you think they will come for you to-night?” +she asked, suddenly remembering +that her father had told her that Duncan +had gone to Lazette for the sheriff. “What +will they do?”</p> +<p>“Nothing, I reckon. That is, they won’t +do anything except take me into custody. +They can’t do anything until Doubler dies.”</p> +<p>“If he doesn’t die?” she said. “What +can they do then?”</p> +<p>“Usually it isn’t considered a crime to +shoot a man—if he doesn’t die. Likely they +wouldn’t do anything to me if Doubler gets +well. They might want me to leave the +country. But I don’t reckon that I’m going +to let them take me—whether Doubler +dies or not. Once they’ve got a man it’s +pretty easy to prove him guilty—in this +country. Usually they hang a man and +consider the evidence afterward. I’m not +letting them do that to me. If I was guilty, +I suppose I might look at it differently, but +maybe not.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span></p> +<p>Sheila was silent; he became silent, too, +and looked gravely at her.</p> +<p>“Well,” he said presently, “I’ll be going.” +He urged his pony forward, but +when it had gone only a few steps he turned +and looked back at her. “Do your best to +keep Doubler alive,” he said.</p> +<p>There was a note of the old mockery in +his voice, and it lingered long in Sheila’s +ears after she had watched him vanish into +the mysterious shadows that surrounded the +trail. Stiffling a sigh of regret and pity, +she spoke to her pony, and the animal +shuffled down the long slope, forded the +river, and so brought her to the door of +Doubler’s cabin.</p> +<p>The doctor was there; he was bending over +Doubler at the instant Sheila entered the +cabin, and he looked up at her with grave, +questioning eyes.</p> +<p>“I am going to nurse him,” she informed +the doctor.</p> +<p>“That’s good,” he returned softly; “he +needs lots of care—the care that a woman +can give him.”</p> +<p>Then he went off into a maze of medical +terms and phrases that left her confused, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span> +but out of which she gathered the fact that +the bullet had missed a vital spot, that Doubler +was suffering more from shock than +from real injury, and that the only danger—his +constitution being strong enough to +withstand the shock—would be from blood +poisoning. He had some fever, the doctor +told Sheila, and he left a small vial on a +shelf with instructions to administer a number +of drops of its contents in a spoonful +of water if Doubler became restless. The +bandages were to be changed several times +a day, and the wound bathed.</p> +<p>The doctor was glad that she had come, +for he had a very sick patient in Mrs. Moreland, +and he must return to her immediately. +He would try to look in in a day or two. +No, he said, in answer to her question, she +could not leave Doubler to-morrow, even +to go home—if she wanted the patient to get +well.</p> +<p>And so Sheila watched him as he went +out and saddled his horse and rode away +down the river trail. Then with a sigh she +returned to the cabin, closed the door, and +took up her vigil beside the nester.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XVI_SHERIFF_ALLEN_TAKES_A_HAND' id='XVI_SHERIFF_ALLEN_TAKES_A_HAND'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>SHERIFF ALLEN TAKES A HAND</h3> +</div> + +<p>The sheriff’s posse—three men whom +he had deputized in Lazette and himself—had +ridden hard over the twenty +miles of rough trail from Lazette, for Duncan +had assured Allen that he would have +to get into action before Dakota could discover +that there had been a witness to his +deed, and therefore when they arrived at the +edge of the clearing near Dakota’s cabin at +midnight, they were glad of an opportunity +to dismount and stretch themselves.</p> +<p>There was no light in Dakota’s cabin, no +sign that the man the sheriff was after was +anywhere about, and the latter consulted +gravely with his men.</p> +<p>“This ain’t going to be any picnic, boys,” +he said. “We’ve got to take our time and +keep our eyes open. Dakota ain’t no spring +chicken, and if he don’t want to come with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span> +us peaceable, he’ll make things plumb lively.”</p> +<p>A careful examination of the horses in +the corral resulted in the discovery of one +which had evidently been ridden hard and +unsaddled but a few minutes before, for +its flanks were in a lather and steam rose +from its sides.</p> +<p>However, the discovery of the pony told +the sheriff nothing beyond the fact that Dakota +had ridden to the cabin from somewhere, +some time before. Whether he was +asleep, or watching the posse from some +vantage point within or outside of the cabin +was not quite clear. Therefore Allen, the +sheriff, a man of much experience, advised +caution. After another careful reconnoiter, +which settled beyond all reasonable doubt +the fact that Dakota was not secreted in the +timber in the vicinity of the cabin, Allen +told his deputies to remain concealed on the +edge of the clearing, while he proceeded +boldly to the door of the cabin and knocked +loudly. He and Dakota had always been +very friendly.</p> +<p>At the sound of the knock, Dakota’s voice +came from within the cabin, burdened with +mockery. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span></p> +<p>“Sorry, Allen,” it said, “but I’m locked +up for the night. Can’t take any chances +on leaving my door unbarred—can’t tell +who’s prowling around. If you’d sent +word, now, so I would have had time to dress +decently, I might have let you in, seeing it’s +you. I’m sure some sorry.”</p> +<p>“Sorry, too.” Allen grinned at the door. +“I told the boys you’d be watching. Well, +it can’t be helped, I reckon. Only, I’d like +mighty well to see you. Coming out in the +morning?”</p> +<p>“Maybe. Missed my beauty sleep already.” +His voice was dryly sarcastic. +“It’s too bad you rode this far for nothing; +can’t even get a look at me. But it’s no +time to visit a man, anyway. You and your +boys flop outside. We’ll swap palaver in +the morning. Good night.”</p> +<p>“Good night.”</p> +<p>Allen returned to the edge of the clearing, +where he communicated to his men the +result of the conference.</p> +<p>“He ain’t allowing that he wants to be +disturbed just now,” he told them. “And +he’s too damned polite to monkey with. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span> +We’ll wait. Likely he’ll change his mind +over-night.”</p> +<p>“Wait nothing,” growled Duncan. “Bust +the door in!”</p> +<p>Allen grinned mildly. “Good advice,” +he said quietly. “Me and my men will set +here while you do the busting. Don’t imagine +that we’ll be sore because you take the +lead in such a little matter as that.”</p> +<p>“If I was the sheriff——” began Duncan.</p> +<p>“Sure,” interrupted Allen with a dry +laugh; “if you was the sheriff. There’s a +lot of things we’d do if we was somebody +else. Maybe breaking down Dakota’s door +is one of them. But we don’t want anyone +killed if we can help it, and it’s a dead sure +thing that some one would cash in if we tried +any monkey business with that door. If +you’re wanting to do something that +amounts to something to help this game +along, swap your cayuse for one of Dakota’s +and hit the breeze to the Double R for grub. +We’ll be needing it by the time you get +back.”</p> +<p>Duncan had already ridden over sixty +miles within the past twenty-four hours, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span> +he made a grumbling rejoinder. But in the +end he roped one of Dakota’s horses, saddled +it, and presently vanished in the darkness. +Allen and his men built a fire near +the edge of the clearing and rolled into their +blankets.</p> +<p>At eight o’clock the following morning, +Langford appeared on the river trail, leading +a pack horse loaded with provisions and +cooking utensils for the sheriff and his men. +Duncan, Langford told Allen while they +breakfasted, had sought his bunk, being +tired from the day’s activities.</p> +<p>“You’re the owner of the Double R?” +questioned Allen.</p> +<p>“You and Dakota friendly?” he questioned +again, noting Langford’s nod.</p> +<p>“We’ve been quite friendly,” smiled +Langford.</p> +<p>“But you ain’t now?”</p> +<p>“Not since this has happened. We must +have law and order, even at the price of +friendship.”</p> +<p>Allen squinted a mildly hostile eye at +Langford. “That’s a good principle to get +back of—for a weak-kneed friendship. But +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span> +most men who have got friends wouldn’t let +a little thing like law and order interfere +between them.”</p> +<p>Langford reddened. “I haven’t known +Dakota long of course,” he defended. +“Perhaps I erred in saying we were friends. +Acquaintances would better describe it I +think.”</p> +<p>Allen’s eye narrowed again with an emotion +that Langford could not fathom. “I +always had a heap of faith in Dakota’s judgment,” +he said. And then, when Langford’s +face flushed with a realization of the subtle +insult, Allen said gruffly:</p> +<p>“You say Doubler’s dead?”</p> +<p>“I don’t remember to have said that to +you,” returned Langford, his voice snapping +with rage. “What I did say was that +Duncan saw him killed and came to me with +the news. I sent him for you. Since then +my daughter has been over to Doubler’s +cabin. He is quite dead, she reported,” he +lied. “There can be no doubt of his guilt, +if that is what bothers you,” he continued. +“Duncan saw him shoot Doubler in the back +with Doubler’s own rifle, and my daughter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span> +heard the shot and met Dakota coming from +Doubler’s cabin, immediately after. It’s a +clear case, it seems to me.”</p> +<p>“Yes, clear,” said Allen. “The evidence +is all against him.”</p> +<p>Yet it was not all quite clear to Langford. +To be sure, he had expected to receive news +that Dakota had accomplished the destruction +of Doubler, but he had not anticipated +the fortunate appearance of Duncan at the +nester’s cabin during the commission of the +murder, nor had he expected Sheila to be +near the scene of the crime. It had turned +out better than he had planned, for since +he had burned the agreement that he had +made with Dakota, the latter had no hold +on him whatever, and if it were finally +proved that he had committed the crime +there would come an end to both Dakota +and Doubler.</p> +<p>Only one thing puzzled him. Dakota +had been to his place, he knew that he was +charged with the murder and that the agreement +had been burned. He also knew that +Duncan and Sheila would bear witness +against him. And yet, though he had had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span> +an opportunity to escape, he had not done +so. Why not?</p> +<p>He put this interrogation to Allen, carefully +avoiding reference to anything which +would give the sheriff any idea that he possessed +any suspicion that Dakota was not +really guilty.</p> +<p>“That’s what’s bothering me!” declared +the latter. “He’s had time enough to hit +the breeze clear out of the Territory. +Though,” he added, squinting at Langford, +“Dakota ain’t never been much on the run. +He’d a heap rather face the music. Damn +the cuss!” he exploded impatiently.</p> +<p>He finished his breakfast in silence, and +then again approached the door of Dakota’s +cabin, knocking loudly, as before.</p> +<p>“I’m wanting that palaver now, Dakota,” +he said coaxingly.</p> +<p>He heard Dakota laugh. “Have you +viewed the corpse, Allen?” came his voice, +burdened with mockery.</p> +<p>“No,” said Allen.</p> +<p>“You’re a hell of a sheriff—wanting to +take a man when you don’t know whether +he’s done anything.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span></p> +<p>“I reckon you ain’t fooling me none,” +said Allen slowly. “The evidence is dead +against you.”</p> +<p>“What evidence?”</p> +<p>“Duncan saw you fixing Doubler, and +Langford’s daughter met you coming from +his cabin.”</p> +<p>“Who told you that?”</p> +<p>“Langford. He’s just brought some +grub over.”</p> +<p>The silence that followed Allen’s words +lasted long, and the sheriff fidgeted impatiently. +When he again spoke there was the +sharpness of intolerance in his voice.</p> +<p>“If talking to you was all I had to do, +I might monkey around here all summer,” +he said. “I’ve give you about eight hours +to think this thing over, and that’s plenty +long enough. I don’t like to get into any +gun argument with you, because I know that +somebody will get hurt. Why in hell don’t +you surrender decently? I’m a friend of +yours and you hadn’t ought to want to make +any trouble for me. And them’s good boys +that I’ve got over there and I wouldn’t want +to see any of them perforated. And I’d +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span> +hate like blazes to have to put you out of +business. Why don’t you act decent and +come out like a man?”</p> +<p>“Go and look at the corpse,” insisted Dakota.</p> +<p>“There’ll be plenty of time to look at the +corpse after you’re took.”</p> +<p>There was no answer. Allen sighed regretfully. +“Well,” he said presently, “I’ve +done what I could. From now on, I’m looking +for you.”</p> +<p>“Just a minute, Allen,” came Dakota’s +voice. To Allen’s surprise he heard a fumbling +at the fastenings of the door, and an +instant later it swung open and Dakota stood +in the opening, one of his six-shooters in +hand.</p> +<p>“I reckon I know you well enough to be +tolerably sure that you’ll get me before you +leave here,” he said, as Allen wheeled and +faced him, his arms folded over his chest as +a declaration of his present peaceful intentions. +“But I want you to get this business +straight before anything is started. +And then you’ll be responsible. I’m giving +it to you straight. Somebody’s framed up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span> +on me. I didn’t shoot Doubler. When I +left him he was cleaning his rifle. After +I left him I heard shooting. I thought it +was him trying his rifle, or I would have +gone back.</p> +<p>“Then I met Sheila Langford on the +river trail, near the cabin. She’d heard the +shooting, too. She thinks I did it. You +think I did it, and Duncan says he saw +me do it. Doubler isn’t dead. At least he +wasn’t dead when I left the doctor with him +at sundown. But he wasn’t far from it, +and if he dies without coming to it’s likely +that things will look bad for me. But because +I knew he wasn’t dead I took a chance +on staying here. I am not allowing that +I’m going to let anyone hang me for a thing +I didn’t do, and so if you’re determined to +get me without making sure that Doubler’s +going to have mourners immediately, it’s a +dead sure thing that some one’s going to get +hurt. I reckon that’s all. I’ve given you +fair warning, and after you get back to the +edge of the clearing our friendship don’t +count any more.”</p> +<p>He stepped back and closed the door. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span></p> +<p>Allen walked slowly toward the clearing, +thinking seriously. He said nothing to +Langford or his men concerning his conversation +with Dakota, and though he covertly +questioned the former he could discover +nothing more than that which the Double +R owner had already told him. Several +times during the morning he was on the +point of planning an attack on the cabin, +but Dakota’s voice had a ring of truth in it +and he delayed action, waiting for some more +favorable turn of events.</p> +<p>And so the hours dragged. The men +lounged in the shade of the trees and talked; +Langford—though he had no further excuse +for staying—remained, concealing his +impatience over Allen’s inaction by taking +short rides, but always returning; Allen, +taciturn, morose even, paid no attention to +him.</p> +<p>The afternoon waned; the sun descended +to the peaks of the mountains, and there was +still inaction on Allen’s part, still silence +from the cabin. Just at sundown Allen +called his men to him and told them to guard +the cabin closely, not to shoot unless forced +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span> +by Dakota, but to be certain that he did not +escape.</p> +<p>He said they might expect him to return +by dawn of the following morning. Then, +during Langford’s absence on one of his +rides, he loped his pony up the river trail +toward Ben Doubler’s cabin.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XVII_DOUBLER_TALKS' id='XVII_DOUBLER_TALKS'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>DOUBLER TALKS</h3> +</div> + +<p>After the departure of the doctor +Sheila entered the cabin and closed +the door, fastening the bars and drawing +a chair over near the table. Doubler +seemed to be resting easier, though there +was a flush in his cheeks that told of the +presence of fever. However, he breathed +more regularly and with less effort than before +the coming of the doctor, and as a consequence, +Sheila felt decidedly better. At +intervals during the night she gave him +quantities of the medicine which the doctor +had left, but only when the fever seemed to +increase, forcing the liquid through his lips. +Several times she changed the bandages, +and once or twice during the night when he +moaned she pulled her chair over beside him +and smoothed his forehead, soothing him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span> +When the dawn came it found her heavy +eyed and tired.</p> +<p>She went to the river and procured fresh +water, washed her hands and face, prepared +a breakfast of bacon and soda biscuit—which +she found in a tin box in a corner of +the cabin, and then, as Doubler seemed to +be doing nicely, she saddled her pony and +took a short gallop. Returning, she entered +the cabin, to find Doubler tossing restlessly.</p> +<p>She gave him a dose of the medicine—an +extra large one—but it had little effect, +quieting him only momentarily. Evidently +he was growing worse. The thought +aroused apprehension in her mind, but she +fought it down and stayed resolutely at the +sick man’s side.</p> +<p>Through the slow-dragging hours of the +morning she sat beside him, giving him the +best care possible under the circumstances, +but in spite of her efforts the fever steadily +rose, and at noon he sat suddenly up in the +bunk and gazed at her with blazing, vacuous +eyes.</p> +<p>“You’re a liar!” he shouted. “Dakota’s +square!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span></p> +<p>Sheila stifled a scream of fear and shrank +from him. But recovering, she went to him, +seizing his shoulders and forcing him back +into the bunk. He did not resist, not seeming +to pay any attention to her at all, but he +mumbled, inexpressively:</p> +<p>“It ain’t so, I tell you. He’s just left +me, an’ any man which could talk like he +talked to me ain’t—I reckon not,” he said, +shaking his head with a vigorous, negative +motion; “you’re a heap mistaken—you ain’t +got him right at all.”</p> +<p>He was quiet for a time after this, but +toward the middle of the afternoon Sheila +saw that his gaze was following her as she +paced softly back and forth in the cabin.</p> +<p>“So you’re stuck on that Langford girl, +are you?” he demanded, laughing. “Well, +it won’t do you any good, Dakota, she’s—well, +she’s some sore at you for something. +She won’t listen to anything which is said +about you.” The laughter died out of his +eyes; they became cold with menace. “I +ain’t listenin’ to any more of that sorta talk, +I tell you! I’ve got my eyes open. Why!” +he said in surprise, starting up, “he’s gone!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span> +He suddenly shuddered and cursed. “In +the back,” he said. “You—you——” And +profanity gushed from his lips. Then he +collapsed, closing his eyes, and lay silent +and motionless.</p> +<p>Out of the jumble of disconnected sentences +Sheila was able to gather two things +of importance—perhaps three.</p> +<p>The first was that some one had told him +of Dakota’s complicity in the plan to murder +him and that he refused to believe his +friend capable of such depravity. The second +was that he knew who had shot him; he +also knew the man who had informed him +of Dakota’s duplicity—though this knowledge +would amount to very little unless he +recovered enough to be able to supply the +missing threads.</p> +<p>Sheila despaired of him supplying anything, +for it seemed that he was steadily +growing worse, and when the dusk came she +began to feel a dread of remaining with him +in the cabin during the night. If only the +doctor would return! If Dakota would +come—Duncan, her father, anybody! But +nobody came, and the silence around the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span> +cabin grew so oppressive that she felt she +must scream. When darkness succeeded +dusk she lighted the kerosene lamp, placed a +bar over the window, secured the door fastenings, +and seated herself at the table, determined +to take a short nap.</p> +<p>It seemed that she had scarcely dropped +off to sleep—though in reality she had been +unconscious for more than two hours—when +she awoke suddenly, to see Doubler sitting +erect in the bunk, watching her with a wan, +sympathetic smile. There was the light of +reason in his eyes and her heart gave an ecstatic +leap.</p> +<p>“Could you give me a drink of water, +ma’am?” he said, in the voice that she knew +well.</p> +<p>She sprang to the pail, to find that it contained +very little. She had lifted it, and +was about to unfasten the door, intending +to go to the river to procure fresh water, +when Doubler’s voice arrested her.</p> +<p>“There’s some water there—I can hear it +splashin’: It’ll do well enough just now. I +don’t want much. You can get some fresh +after a while. I want to talk to you.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span></p> +<p>She placed the pail down and went over +to him, standing beside him.</p> +<p>“What is it?” she asked.</p> +<p>“How long have you been here? I +knowed you was here all the time—I kept +seein’ you, but somehow things was a little +mixed. But I know that you’ve been here +quite a while. How long?”</p> +<p>“This is the second night.”</p> +<p>“You found me layin’ there—in the door. +I dropped there, not bein’ able to go any +further. I felt you touchin’ me—draggin’ +me. There was someone else here, too. +Who was it?”</p> +<p>“The doctor and Dakota.”</p> +<p>“Where’s Dakota now?”</p> +<p>“At his cabin, I suppose. He didn’t stay +here long—he left right after he brought the +doctor. I imagine you know why he didn’t +stay. He was afraid that you would recognize +him and accuse him.”</p> +<p>“Accuse him of what, ma’am?”</p> +<p>“Of shooting you.”</p> +<p>He smiled. “I reckon, ma’am, that you +don’t understand. It wasn’t Dakota that +shot me.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span></p> +<p>“Who did, then?” she questioned eagerly. +“Who?”</p> +<p>“Duncan.”</p> +<p>“Why—why——” she said, sitting suddenly +erect, a mysterious elation filling her, +her eyes wide with surprise and delight, and +a fear that Doubler might have been mistaken—“Why, +I saw Dakota on the river +trail just after you were shot.”</p> +<p>“He’d just left me. He hadn’t been +gone more than ten minutes or so when Duncan +rode up—comin’ out of the timber just +down by the crick. Likely he’d been hidin’ +there. I was cleanin’ my rifle; we had +words, and when I set my rifle down just +outside the shack, he grabbed it an’ shot +me. After that I don’t seem to remember +a heap, except that someone was touchin’ +me—which must have been you.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” she said. “I am <i>so</i> glad!”</p> +<p>She was thinking now of Dakota’s parting +words to her the night before on the +crest of the slope above the river,—of his +words, of the truth of his statement denying +his guilt, and she was glad that she had not +spoken some of the spiteful things which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span> +had been in her mind. How she had misjudged +him!</p> +<p>“I reckon it’s something to be glad for,” +smiled Doubler, misunderstanding her elation, +“but I reckon I owe it to you—I’d +have pulled my freight sure, if you hadn’t +come when you did. An’ I told you not to +be comin’ here any more.” He laughed. +“Ain’t it odd how things turn out—sometimes. +I’d have died sure,” he repeated.</p> +<p>“You are going to live a long while,” she +said. And then, to his surprise, she bent +over and kissed his forehead, leaving his side +instantly, her cheeks aflame, her eyes alight +with a mysterious fire. To conceal her emotion +from Doubler she seized the water pail.</p> +<p>“I will get some fresh water,” she said, +with a quick, smiling glance at him. “You’ll +want a fresh drink, and your bandages must +be changed.”</p> +<p>She opened the door and stepped down +into the darkness.</p> +<p>There was a moon, and the trail to the +river was light enough for her to see plainly, +but when she reached the timber clump in +which Doubler had said Duncan had been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331' name='page_331'></a>331</span> +hiding, she shuddered and made a detour to +avoid passing close to it. This took her +some distance out of her way, and she reached +the river and walked along its bank for a +little distance, searching for a deep accessible +spot into which she could dip the pail.</p> +<p>The shallow crossing over which she had +ridden many times was not far away, and +when she stooped to fill the pail she heard +a sudden clatter and splashing, and looked +up to see a horseman riding into the water +from the opposite side of the river.</p> +<p>He saw her at the instant she discovered +him, and once over the ford he turned his +horse and rode directly toward her.</p> +<p>After gaining the bank he halted his pony +and looked intently at her.</p> +<p>“You’re Langford’s daughter, I reckon,” +he said.</p> +<p>“Yes,” she returned, seeing that he was +a stranger; “I am.”</p> +<p>“I’m Ben Allen,” he said shortly; “the +sheriff of this county. What are you doing +here?”</p> +<p>“I am taking care of Ben Doubler,” she +said; “he has been——” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332' name='page_332'></a>332</span></p> +<p>“Then he ain’t dead, of course,” said Allen, +interrupting her. It seemed to Sheila +that there was relief and satisfaction in his +voice, and she peered closer at him, but his +face was hidden in the shadow of his hat +brim.</p> +<p>“He is very much better now,” she told +him, scarcely able to conceal her delight. +“But he has been very bad.”</p> +<p>“Able to talk?”</p> +<p>“Yes. He has just been talking to me.” +She took a step toward him, speaking earnestly +and rapidly. “I suppose you are +looking for Dakota,” she said, remembering +what her father had told her about sending +Duncan to Lazette for the sheriff. “If you +are looking for him, I want to tell you that +he didn’t shoot Doubler. It was Duncan. +Doubler told me so not over five minutes +ago. He said——”</p> +<p>But Allen had spurred his pony forward, +and before she could finish he was out of +hearing distance, riding swiftly toward the +cabin.</p> +<p>Sheila lingered at the water’s edge, for +now suddenly she saw much beauty in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333' name='page_333'></a>333</span> +surrounding country, and she was no longer +lonesome. She stood on the bank of the +river, gazing long at the shadowy rims of +the distant mountains, at their peaks, rising +majestically in the luminous mist of the +night; at the plains, stretching away and +fading into the mysterious shadows of the +distance; watching the waters of the river, +shimmering like quicksilver—a band of +glowing ribbon winding in and out and +around the moon-touched buttes of the canyons.</p> +<p>“Oh!” she said irrelevantly, “he isn’t so +bad, after all!”</p> +<p>Stooping over again to fill the pail, she +heard a sharp clatter of hoofs behind her. +A horseman was racing toward the river—toward +her—bending low over his pony’s +mane, riding desperately. She placed the +pail down and watched him. Apparently +he did not see her, for, swerving suddenly, +he made for the crossing without slackening +speed. He had almost reached the +water’s edge when there came a spurt of +flame from the door of Doubler’s cabin, followed +by the sharp whip like crack of a rifle! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334' name='page_334'></a>334</span></p> +<p>In the doorway of the cabin, clearly outlined +against the flickering light of the interior, +was a man. And as Sheila watched +another streak of fire burst from the door, +and she heard the shrill sighing of the bullet, +heard the horseman curse. But he did +not stop in his flight, and in an instant he +had crossed the river. She saw him for an +instant as he was outlined against the clear +sky in the moonlight that bathed the crest +of the slope, and then he was gone.</p> +<p>Dropping the pail, Sheila ran toward the +cabin, fearing that Doubler had suddenly +become delirious and had attacked Allen. +But it seemed to her that it had not been +Allen who had raced away from the cabin, +and she had not gone more than half way +toward it when she saw another horseman +coming. She halted to wait for him, and +when he halted and drew up beside her she +saw that it was the sheriff.</p> +<p>“Who was it?” she demanded, breathlessly.</p> +<p>“Duncan!” Allen cursed picturesquely +and profanely. “When I got to the shack +he was inside, standing over Doubler, strangling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335' name='page_335'></a>335</span> +him. The damned skunk! You was +right,” he added; “it was him who shot +Doubler!” He continued rapidly, grimly, +taking a piece of paper from a pocket and +writing something on it.</p> +<p>“My men have got Dakota corraled in +his cabin. If he tries to get away they will +do for him. I don’t want that to happen; +there’s too few square men in the country +as it is. Take this”—he held out the paper +to her—“and get down to Dakota’s cabin +with it. Give it to Bud—one of my men—and +tell him to scatter the others and try to +head off Duncan if he comes that way. I’m +after him!”</p> +<p>The paper fluttered toward her, she +snatched at it, missed it, and stooped to take +it from the ground. When she stood erect +she saw Allen and his pony silhouetted for +an instant on the crest of the ridge on the +other side of the river. Then he vanished.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XVIII_FOR_DAKOTA' id='XVIII_FOR_DAKOTA'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336' name='page_336'></a>336</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>FOR DAKOTA</h3> +</div> + +<p>Though in a state of anxiety and excitement +over the incident of Duncan’s +attack on Doubler and the subsequent +shooting, together with a realization +of Dakota’s danger, Sheila did not lose her +composure. She ran to the river and secured +the water, aware that it might be +needed now more than ever. Then, hurrying +as best she could with the weight of the +pail, she returned to the cabin.</p> +<p>She was relieved to find that Doubler had +received no injury, and she paused long +enough to allow him to tell her that Duncan +had entered the cabin shortly after she had +left it. He had attacked Doubler, but had +been interrupted by Allen, who had suddenly +ridden up. Duncan had heard him +coming, and had concealed himself behind +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337' name='page_337'></a>337</span> +the door, and when Allen had entered Duncan +had struck him on the head with the butt +of his six-shooter, knocking him down. The +blow had been a glancing one, however, +and Allen had recovered quickly, seizing +Doubler’s rifle and trying to bring down the +would be murderer as he fled.</p> +<p>While attending to Doubler’s bandages, +Sheila repeated the conversation she had +had with Allen concerning the situation in +which he had left Dakota, and instantly the +nester’s anxiety for his friend took precedence +over any thoughts for his own immediate +welfare.</p> +<p>“There’ll be trouble sure, now that Allen’s +left there,” he said. “Dakota won’t +be a heap easy with them deputies.”</p> +<p>He told Sheila to let the bandaging go +until later, but she refused.</p> +<p>“Dakota’ll be needin’ you a heap more +than I need you,” he insisted, refusing to allow +her to touch the bandages. “There’ll +be the devil to pay if any of them deputies +try to rush Dakota’s shack. I want you to +go down there right now. If you wait, it’ll +mebbe be too late.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338' name='page_338'></a>338</span></p> +<p>Sheila hesitated for a moment, and then, +yielding to the entreaty in Doubler’s eyes, +she was at his side, pressing his hand.</p> +<p>“Ride ma’am!” he told her, when she was +ready to go, his cheeks flushed with excitement, +his eyes bright.</p> +<p>Her pony snorted with surprise when she +brought her riding whip down against its +flanks when turning from the corral gates, +but it needed no second urging, and its pace +when it splashed through the shallow water +of the crossing was fully as great as that of +Duncan’s pony, which had previously passed +through it.</p> +<p>Once on the hard sand of the river trail +it settled into a long, swinging gallop, under +which the miles flew by rapidly and +steadily. Sheila drew the animal up on the +rises, breathing it sometimes, but on the levels +she urged it with whip and spur, and in +something more than an hour after leaving +Doubler’s cabin, she flashed by the quicksand +crossing, which she estimated as being +not more than twelve miles from her journey’s +end.</p> +<p>She was tired after her long vigil at Doubler’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339' name='page_339'></a>339</span> +side, but the weariness was entirely +physical, for her brain was working rapidly, +filling her thoughts with picturesque conjectures, +drawing pictures in which she saw +Dakota being shot down by Allen’s deputies. +And he was innocent!</p> +<p>She did not blame herself for Dakota’s +dilemma, though she felt a keen regret over +her treatment of him, over her unjust suspicions. +He had really been in earnest +when he had told her the night before on the +river trail that he was not guilty—that +everybody had misjudged him. Vivid in +her recollection was the curious expression +on his face when he had said to her just before +leaving her that night:</p> +<p>“Won’t you believe me?”</p> +<p>And that other time, when he had taken +her by the shoulders and looked steadily +into her eyes—she remembered that, too; +she could almost feel his fingers, and the +words he had uttered then were fresh in her +memory: “I’ve treated you mean, Sheila, +about as mean as a man could treat a +woman. I am sorry. I want you to believe +that. And maybe some day—when this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340' name='page_340'></a>340</span> +business is over—you’ll understand, and forgive +me.”</p> +<p>There had been mystery in his actions +ever since she had seen him the first time, +and though she could not yet understand it, +she had discovered that there were forces at +work in his affairs which seemed to indicate +that he had not told her that for the purpose +of attempting to justify his previous +actions.</p> +<p>Evidently, whatever the mystery that surrounded +him, her father and Duncan were +concerned in it, and this thought spurred her +on, for it gave her a keen delight to think +that she was arrayed against them, even +though she were on the side of the man who +had wronged her. He, at least, had not +been concerned in the plot to murder Doubler.</p> +<p>When she reached the last rise—on the +crest of which she had sat on her pony on +the morning following her marriage to Dakota +in the cabin and from which she had +seen the parson riding away—she was +trembling with eagerness and dread for fear +that something might happen before she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341' name='page_341'></a>341</span> +could arrive. It was three miles down the +slope, and when she reached the level there +was Dakota’s cabin before her.</p> +<p>She drew her pony to a walk, for she saw +men grouped in front of the cabin door, +saw Dakota there himself, standing in the +open doorway, framed in the light from +within. There were no evidences of the conflict +which she had dreaded. She had arrived +in time.</p> +<p>Convinced of this, she felt for the first +time her physical weariness, and she leaned +forward on her pony, holding to its mane +for support, approaching the cabin slowly.</p> +<p>Her father was there, she observed, as +she drew nearer; and three strangers—and +Allen! And near Allen, sitting on his +horse dejectedly, was Duncan!</p> +<p>One of Duncan’s arms swung oddly at +his side, and Sheila thought instantly of his +curse when he had been riding near her at +the river crossing. Evidently Allen’s bullet +had struck him.</p> +<p>Sheila’s presence at Dakota’s cabin was +now unnecessary, for it was evident that an +understanding had been reached with Allen, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342' name='page_342'></a>342</span> +and Sheila experienced a sudden aversion +to appearing among the men. Turning her +pony, she was about to ride away, intending +to return to Doubler’s cabin, when Allen +turned and saw her. He spurred quickly +to her side, seizing the pony by the bridle +rein and leading it toward the cabin door.</p> +<p>“It’s all right, ma’am,” he said, “I got +him. Holy smoke!” he exclaimed as she +came within the radius of the light. “You +certainly rode some, didn’t you, ma’am?”</p> +<p>She did not answer. She saw her father +look at her, noted his start, smiled scornfully +when she observed a paleness overspreading +his face. She looked from him +to Duncan, and the latter flushed and turned +his head. Then Allen’s voice reached her, +as he spoke to Dakota.</p> +<p>“This young woman has rode twenty +miles to-night—to save your hide—you +durned cuss. If you was anyways hospitable, +you’d——”</p> +<p>Allen’s voice seemed to grow distant to +Sheila, the figures of the men in the group +blurred, the light danced, she reeled in the +saddle, tried to check herself, failed, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343' name='page_343'></a>343</span> +toppled limply forward over her pony’s +neck. She heard an exclamation, saw Dakota +spring suddenly from the doorway, felt +his arms around her. She struggled in his +grasp, trying to fight him off, and then she +drifted into oblivion.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XIX_SOME_MEMORIES' id='XIX_SOME_MEMORIES'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344' name='page_344'></a>344</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>SOME MEMORIES</h3> +</div> + +<p>When Sheila recovered consciousness +she was in Dakota’s cabin—in +the bunk in which she had lain +on another night in the yesterday of her life +in this country. She recognized it instantly. +There was the candle on the table, there were +the familiar chairs, the fireplace, the shelves +upon which were Dakota’s tobacco tins and +matches; there was the guitar, with its +gaudy string, suspended from the wall. If +it had been raining, she might have imagined +that she was just awakening from a sleep +in that other time. She felt a hand on her +forehead, a damp cloth, and she opened her +eyes to gaze fairly into Dakota’s.</p> +<p>“Don’t, please,” she said, shrinking from +him.</p> +<p>It occurred to her that she had uttered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_345' name='page_345'></a>345</span> +the same words to him before, and, closing +her eyes for a moment, she remembered. It +had been when he had tried to assist her out +of the water at the quicksand crossing, and +as on that occasion, his answer was the same.</p> +<p>“Then I won’t.”</p> +<p>She lay for a long time, looking straight +up at the ceiling, utterly tired, wondering +vaguely what had become of her father, +Duncan, Allen, and the others. She would +have given much to have been able to lie +there for a time—a long time—and rest. But +that was not to be thought of. She struggled +to a sitting position, and when her eyes had +become accustomed to the light she saw her +father sitting in a chair near the fireplace. +The door was closed—barred. Sheila +glanced again at her father, and then questioningly +at Dakota, who was watching her +from the center of the room, his face inscrutable.</p> +<p>“What does this mean? Where are the +others?” she demanded.</p> +<p>“Allen and his men have gone back to +Lazette,” returned Dakota quietly. “This +means”—he pointed to Langford—“that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_346' name='page_346'></a>346</span> +we’re going to have a little talk—about +things.”</p> +<p>Sheila rose. “I don’t care to hear any +talk; I am not interested.”</p> +<p>“You’ll be interested in <i>my</i> talk,” said +Dakota.</p> +<p>Curiously, he seemed to be invested with +a new character. Just now he was more +like the man he had been the night she had +met him the first time—before he had forced +her to marry him—than he had been since. +Only, she felt as she watched him standing +quietly in the middle of the room, the recklessness +which had marked his manner that +other time seemed to have entirely disappeared, +seemed to have been replaced by +something else—determination.</p> +<p>Beneath the drooping mustache Sheila +saw the lines of his lips; they had always +seemed hard to her, and now there were little +curves at the corners which hinted at +amusement—grim amusement. His eyes, +too, were different; the mockery had departed +from them. They were steady and +unwavering, as before, and though they still +baffled her, she was certain that she saw a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_347' name='page_347'></a>347</span> +slumbering devil in them—as though he possessed +some mysterious knowledge and purposed +to confound Sheila and her father +with it, though in his own way and to suit +his convenience. Yet behind it all there +lurked a certain gravity—a cold deliberation +that seemed to proclaim that he was in +no mood to trifle and that he proposed to +follow some plan and would brook no interference.</p> +<p>Fascinated by the change in him Sheila resumed +her seat on the edge of the bunk, +watching him closely. He drew a chair over +near the door, tilted it back and dropped +into it, thus mutely announcing that he intended +keeping the prisoners until he had +delivered himself of that mysterious knowledge +which seemed to be in his mind.</p> +<p>Glancing furtively at her father, Sheila +observed that he appeared to have formed +some sort of a conclusion regarding Dakota’s +actions also, for he sat very erect on his +chair, staring at the latter, an intense interest +in his eyes.</p> +<p>Sheila had become interested, too; she had +forgotten her weariness. And yet Dakota’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_348' name='page_348'></a>348</span> +first words disappointed her—somehow they +seemed irrelevant.</p> +<p>“This isn’t such a big world, after all, +is it?” He addressed both Sheila and her +father, though he looked at neither. His +tone was quietly conversational, and when +he received no answer to his remark he looked +up with a quiet smile.</p> +<p>“That has been said by a great many +people, hasn’t it? I’ve heard it many times. +I reckon you have, too. But it’s a fact, +just the same. The world <i>is</i> a small place. +Take us three. You”—he said, pointing +to Langford—“come out here from Albany +and buy a ranch. You”—he smiled at +Sheila—“came with your father as a matter +of course. You”—he looked again at +Langford—“might have bought a ranch in +another part of the country. You didn’t +need to buy this particular one. But you +did. Take me. I spent five years in Dakota +before I came here. I’ve been here five +years.</p> +<p>“A man up in Dakota wanted me to stay +there; said he’d do most anything for me if I +would. But I didn’t like Dakota; something +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_349' name='page_349'></a>349</span> +kept telling me that I ought to move +around a little. I came here, I liked the +place, and I’ve stayed here. I know that +neither of you are very much interested in +what has happened to me, but I’ve told you +that much just to prove my contention about +the world being a small place. It surely +isn’t so very big when you consider that three +persons can meet up like we’ve met—our +trails leading us to the same section of the +country.”</p> +<p>“I don’t see how that concerns us,” said +Langford impatiently.</p> +<p>“No,” returned Dakota, and now there +was a note of sarcasm in his voice, “you +don’t see. Lots of folks don’t see. But +there are trails that lead everywhere. Fate +marks them out—blazes them. There are +trails that lead us into trouble, others that +lead us to pleasure—straight trails, crooked +ones, trails that cross—all kinds. Folks +start out on a crooked trail, trying to get +away from something, but pretty soon another +trail crosses the one they are on—maybe +it will be a straight one that crosses +theirs, with a straight man riding it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_350' name='page_350'></a>350</span></p> +<p>“The man riding the crooked trail and +the man riding the straight one meet at the +place where the trails cross. Such trails +don’t lead to any to-morrow; they are yesterday’s +trails, and before the man riding +the crooked trail and the man riding the +straight trail can go any further there has +got to be an accounting. That is what has +happened here. You”—he smiled gravely +as he looked at Langford—“have been riding +a crooked trail. I have been hanging onto +the straight one as best I could. Now we’ve +got to where the trails cross.”</p> +<p>“Meaning that you want an explanation +of my action in burning that signed agreement, +I suppose?” sneered Langford, looking +up.</p> +<p>“Still trying to ride the crooked trail?” +smiled Dakota, with the first note of mockery +that Sheila had heard in his voice since +he had begun speaking. “I’m not worrying +a bit about that agreement. Why, man, +I’d have shot myself before I’d have shot +Doubler. He’s my friend—the only real +friend I’ve had in ten years.”</p> +<p>“Then when you signed the agreement +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_351' name='page_351'></a>351</span> +you didn’t mean to keep it?” questioned +Langford incautiously, disarmed by Dakota’s +earnestness.</p> +<p>“Ten years ago a boy named Ned Keegles +went to Dakota. I am glad to see that you +are familiar with the name,” he added with +a smile as Langford started and stiffened +in his chair, his face suddenly ashen. “You +knowing Keegles will save me explaining a +lot,” continued Dakota. “Well, Keegles +went to Dakota—where I was. He was +eighteen and wasn’t very strong, as young +men go. But he got a job punching cows +and I got to know him pretty well—used to +bunk with him. He took a liking to me because +I took an interest in him.</p> +<p>“He didn’t like the work, because he had +been raised differently. He lived in Albany +before he went West. His father, William +Keegles, was in the hardware business with +a man named Langford—David Dowd +Langford. You see, I couldn’t be mistaken +in the name of the man; it’s such an uncommon +one.”</p> +<p>He smiled significantly at Sheila, and an +odd expression came into her face, for she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_352' name='page_352'></a>352</span> +remembered that on the night of her coming +he had made the same remark.</p> +<p>“One day Ned Keegles got sick and took +me into his confidence. He wasn’t in the +West for his health, he said. He was a +fugitive from the law, accused of murdering +his father. It wasn’t a nice story to hear, +but he told it, thinking he was going to die.”</p> +<p>Dakota smiled enigmatically at Sheila +and coldly at the now shrinking man seated +in the chair beside the fireplace.</p> +<p>“One day Keegles went into his father’s +office. His father’s partner, David Dowd +Langford, was there, talking to his father. +They’d had hard words. Keegle’s father +had discovered that Langford had appropriated +a large sum of the firm’s money. +By forging his partner’s signature he had +escaped detection until one day when the +elder Keegles had accidentally discovered +the fraud—which was the day on which Ned +Keegles visited his father. It isn’t necessary +to go into detail, but it was perfectly +plain that Langford was guilty.</p> +<p>“There were hard words, as I have said. +The elder Keegles threatened to prosecute. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_353' name='page_353'></a>353</span> +Langford seized a sample knife that had +been lying on the elder Keegle’s desk, and +stabbed him, killing him instantly. Then, +while Ned Keegles stood by, stunned by the +suddenness of the attack, Langford coolly +walked to a telephone and notified the police +of the murder. Hanging up the receiver, he +raised the hue and cry, and a dozen clerks +burst into the office, to find Ned Keegles +bending over his father, trying to withdraw +the knife.</p> +<p>“Langford accused Ned Keegles of the +murder. He protested, of course, but seeing +that the evidence was against him, he +fought his way out of the office and escaped. +He went to Dakota—where I met him.” +He hesitated and looked steadily at Langford. +“Do you see how the trails have +crossed? The crooked one and the straight +one?”</p> +<p>Langford was leaning forward in his +chair, a scared, wild expression in his eyes, +his teeth and hands clenched in an effort to +control his emotions.</p> +<p>“It’s a lie!” he shouted. “I didn’t kill +him! Ned Keegles——” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_354' name='page_354'></a>354</span></p> +<p>“Wait!” Dakota rose from his chair and +walked to a shelf, from which he took a box, +returning to Langford’s side and opening it. +He drew out a knife, shoving it before +Langford’s eyes and pointing out some rust +spots on the blade.</p> +<p>“This knife was given to me by Ned +Keegles,” he said slowly. “These rust spots +on the blade are from his father’s blood. +Look at them!” he said sharply, for Langford +had turned his head.</p> +<p>At the command he swung around, his +gaze resting on the knife. “That’s a pretty +story,” he sneered.</p> +<p>Dakota’s laugh when he returned the +knife to the box chilled Sheila as that same +laugh had chilled her when she had heard it +during her first night in the country—in this +same cabin, with Dakota sitting at the table—a +bitter, mocking laugh that had in it a +savagery controlled by an iron will. He +turned abruptly and walked to his chair, +seating himself.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said, “it’s a pretty story. But +it hasn’t all been told. With a besmirched +name and the thoughts which were with him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_355' name='page_355'></a>355</span> +all the time, life wasn’t exactly a joyful one +for Ned Keegles. He was young, you see, +and it all preyed on his mind. But after a +while it hardened him. He’d hit town with +the rest of the boys, and he’d drink whiskey +until he’d forget. But he couldn’t forget +long. He kept seeing his father and Langford; +nights he’d start from his blankets, +living over and over again the incident of +the murder. He got so he couldn’t stay in +Dakota. He came down here and tried to +forget. It was just the same—there was no +forgetfulness.</p> +<p>“One night when he was on the trail near +here, he met a woman. It was raining and +the woman had lost the trail. He took the +woman in. She interested him, and he questioned +her. He discovered that she was the +daughter of the man who had murdered his +father—the daughter of David Dowd Langford!”</p> +<p>Langford cringed and looked at Sheila, +who was looking straight at Dakota, her +eyes alight with knowledge.</p> +<p>“Ned Keegles kept his silence, as he had +kept it for ten years,” resumed Dakota. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_356' name='page_356'></a>356</span> +“But the coming of the woman brought +back the bitter memories, and while the +woman slept in his cabin he turned to the +whiskey bottle for comfort. As he drank +his troubles danced before him—magnified. +He thought it would be a fine revenge if he +should force the woman to marry him, for +he figured that it would be a blow at the +father’s pride. If it hadn’t been for a cowardly +parson and the whiskey the marriage +would never have occurred—Ned Keegles +would not have thought of it. But he didn’t +hurt the woman; she left him pure as she +came—mentally and physically.”</p> +<p>Langford slowly rose from his chair, his +lips twitching, his face working strangely, +his eyes wide and glaring.</p> +<p>“You say she married him—Ned Keegles?” +he said, his voice high keyed and +shrill. He turned to Sheila after catching +Dakota’s nod. “Is this true?” he demanded +sharply. “Did you marry him as +this man says you did?”</p> +<p>“Yes; I married him,” returned Sheila +dully, and Langford sank limply into his +chair. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_357' name='page_357'></a>357</span></p> +<p>Dakota smiled with flashing eyes and +continued:</p> +<p>“Keegles married the woman,” he said +coldly, “because he thought she was Langford’s +real daughter.” He looked at Sheila +with a glance of compassion. “Later, when +Keegles discovered that the woman was only +Langford’s stepdaughter, he was mighty +sorry. Not for Langford, however, because +he could not consider Langford’s feelings. +And in spite of what he had done he was +still determined to secure revenge.</p> +<p>“One day Langford came to Keegles with +a proposal. He had seen Keegles kill one +man, and he wanted to hire him to kill another—a +man named Doubler. Keegles +agreed, for the purpose of getting Langford +into——”</p> +<p>Dakota hesitated, for Langford had risen +to his feet and stood looking at him, his eyes +bulging, his face livid.</p> +<p>“You!” he said, in a choking, wailing +voice; “you—you, are Ned Keegles! You—you—— Why——” +he hesitated and +passed a hand uncertainly over his forehead, +looking from Sheila to Dakota with glazed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_358' name='page_358'></a>358</span> +eyes. “You—you are a liar!” he suddenly +screamed, his voice raised to a maniacal +pitch. “It isn’t so! You—both of you—have +conspired against me!”</p> +<p>“Wait!” Dakota got to his feet, walked +to a shelf, and took down a small glass, a +pair of shears, a shaving cup, and a razor. +While Langford watched, staring at him +with fearful, wondering eyes, Dakota deftly +snipped off the mustache with the shears, +lathered his lip, and shaved it clean. Then +he turned and confronted Langford.</p> +<p>The latter looked at him with one, long, +intense gaze, and then with a dry sob which +caught in his throat and seemed to choke +him, he covered his face with his hands, +shuddered convulsively, and without a +sound pitched forward, face down, at +Dakota’s feet.</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='XX_INTO_THE_UNKNOWN' id='XX_INTO_THE_UNKNOWN'></a> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_359' name='page_359'></a>359</span> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>INTO THE UNKNOWN</h3> +</div> + +<p>After a time Sheila rose from the +bunk on which she had been sitting +and stood in the center of the floor, +looking down at her father. Dakota had +not moved. He stood also, watching Langford, +his face pale and grim, and he did not +speak until Sheila had addressed him twice.</p> +<p>“What are you going to do now?” she +said dully. “It is for you to say, you know. +You hold his life in your hands.”</p> +<p>“Do?” He smiled bitterly at her. +“What would you do? I have waited ten +years for this day. It must go on to the +end.”</p> +<p>“The end?”</p> +<p>“Yes; the end,” he said gravely. “He”—Dakota +pointed to the prostrate figure—“must +sign a written confession.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_360' name='page_360'></a>360</span></p> +<p>“And then?”</p> +<p>“He will return to answer for his crime.”</p> +<p>Sheila shuddered and turned from him +with bowed head.</p> +<p>“Oh!” she said at last; “it will be too +horrible! My friends in the East—they +will——”</p> +<p>“Your friends,” he said with some bitterness. +“Could your friends say more than +my friends said when they thought that I +had murdered my own father in cold blood +and then run away?”</p> +<p>“But I am innocent,” she pleaded.</p> +<p>“I was innocent,” he returned, with a +grave smile.</p> +<p>“Yes, but I could not help you, you +know, for I wasn’t there when you were +accused. But you are here, and you can +help me. Don’t you see,” she said, coming +close to him, “don’t you see that the disgrace +will not fall on him, but on me. I +will make him sign the confession,” she offered, +“you can hold it over him. He will +make restitution of your property. But do +not force him to go back East. Let him +go somewhere—anywhere—but let him live. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_361' name='page_361'></a>361</span> +For, after all, he is my father—the only one +I ever knew.”</p> +<p>“But my vengeance,” he said, the bitterness +of his smile softening as he looked down +at her.</p> +<p>“Your vengeance?” She came closer to +him, looking up into his face. “Are we to +judge—to condemn? Will not the power +which led us three together—the power +which you are pleased to call ‘Fate’; the +power that blazed the trail which you have +followed from the yesterday of your life;—will +not this power judge him—punish him? +Please,” she pleaded, “please, for my sake, +for—for”—her voice broke and she came +forward and placed her hands on his shoulders—“for +your wife’s sake.”</p> +<p>He looked down at her for an instant, the +hard lines of his face breaking into gentle, +sympathetic curves. Then his arms went +around her, and she leaned against him, her +head against his shoulder, while she wept +softly.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>An hour later, standing side by side in +the open doorway of the cabin, Sheila and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_362' name='page_362'></a>362</span> +Dakota watched in silence while Langford, +having signed a confession dictated by Dakota, +mounted his pony and rode slowly up +the river trail toward Lazette.</p> +<p>He slowly passed the timber clump near +the cabin, and with bowed head traveled up +the long slope which led to the rise upon +which, in another time, Sheila had caught +her last glimpse of the parson. It was in +the cold, bleak moment of the morning when +darkness has not yet gone and the dawn not +come, and Langford looked strangely desolate +out there on the trail alone—alone with +thoughts more desolate than his surroundings.</p> +<p>Sheila shivered and snuggled closer to +Dakota. He looked down at her with a +sympathetic smile.</p> +<p>“It is so lonesome,” she said.</p> +<p>“Where?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Out there—where he is going.”</p> +<p>Dakota did not answer. For a long time +they watched the huddled form of the rider. +They saw him approach the crest of the rise—reach +it. Then from the mountains in the +eastern distance came a shaft of light, striking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_363' name='page_363'></a>363</span> +the summit of the rise where the rider +bestrode his pony—throwing both into bold +relief. For a moment the rider halted the +pony, turned, glanced back an instant, and +was gone.</p> +<div class='ce'> +<p>THE END</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.6em;'>Popular Copyright Books</p> +<p style=' font-size:1.2em;'>AT MODERATE PRICES</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>Ask your dealer for a complete list of</p> +<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'>A. L. 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